The road paralleled this branch of the creek for nearly a mile, running along the base of a steadily curving knob. It was not a bad road, either, considering its location, and I found some pleasure in tramping through the yellow dust between the ruts which the wheels of passing vehicles had made. On the creek side was a rod-wide strip of verdure; flowering weeds choked with long, tough grass, bushes of many kinds, and an occasional tree. On the knob side the rise began at the very edge of the highway. Here was moss, dead leaves, many varieties of creepers, sumac, wild grapevine, and now and again eglantine, its flat, pink-white blossoms brightening the heavy shade. It was on this side the road my eyes dwelt oftener, for in my pocket was the jar of fresh water, and in my heart the hope of ultimate reward. It is true I had found nothing which resembled the life-plant in the least, and already I had traveled far. But I was prepared for disappointment, and schooled for patience. The prize was too valuable to be come at easily. I had already learned that great truth--the things worth while are the things you give your heart's blood in getting. Nothing you can grasp by merely stretching out your hand is worth even that slight effort. It is a law of nature and a law of life that hard work is the price of true success; that attainment means sacrifice; that the natural inclinations and desires of the flesh must be fettered and chained before we can reach any eminence whatsoever, or achieve any noble task. That unalterable decree of life applied to this case as well, and I bowed to it. I would wait and search; I would go on until the last day of my twelve months' exile had sped, believing that sooner or later my reward would come. Now my mountain road debouched upon a county highway, made of gravel, well packed and smooth. For a moment I was surprised, wondering where all this gravel came from. Then I remembered that a river ran near, and the mystery was plain.