"On bleak, windswept coats . . . I pitched my camps. On the banks of the sluggish Amazon I built my fires . . . I tramped alone through wilderness . . . On storm-lashed islands I stood, surveying far-off peaks. Then I camped beneath them in shadowed valleys, watching the sunset . . . These are the things I saw and the experiences I lived through that night long past. Now it is the night before I go. Once more I think of that which lies ahead. "Bitter pain is in store for me, but I shall bear it. Beauty beyond all power to convey shall be mine . . . Death may await me . . . Not through cynicism and ennui will I be easy prey. And regardless if all that may befall, let me not be found to lack an understanding of the inscrutable humor of it all." That was Everett's farewell to boyhood and home. He journeyed by horse and burro in Arizona, New Mexico, Utah, and Colorado during 1931, '32 and 34. Through the summers of '30 and '33 he trekked the length and breadth of Sequoia and Yosemite Parks and the High Sierra. As he wandered he and and remembered themes from the great operas and symphonies. He read, wrote and painted and thought, and was formulating a philosophy to meet the exigencies of his artist-vagabond existence.