Near the end of the story, the narrator describes how the men of Roaring Camp would bring baby Luck to work with them, sitting him down “on a blanket spread over pine-boughs.” This leads to a particularly poetic passage in which Harte describes baby Luck’s relationship to nature, using personification and imagery in the process:
Nature was his nurse and playfellow. For him she would let slip between the leaves golden shafts of sunlight that fell just within his grasp; she would send wandering breezes to visit him with the balm of bay and resinous gums; to him the tall red- woods nodded familiarly and sleepily, the bumble-bees buzzed, and the rooks cawed a slumbrous accompaniment.
The personification here—in which nature is referred to as baby Luck’s feminized “nurse and playfellow” who manipulates the weather, plants, and insects to please him—demonstrates the positive effects of growing up so close to the natural world. Baby luck is not stuck indoors all day, but rather gets to know nature intimately while sitting outside near his many adoptive fathers.
The imagery in this passage is also poignant. The narrator describes how “golden shafts of sunlight” “would slip between the leaves,” how “wandering breezes” would bring brilliant smells like “the balm of bay and resinous gums,” and how “the rooks cawed a slumbrous accompaniment.” With this rich imagery, Harte is hoping readers can see, feel, hear, and smell the beauty of the outdoors in the American West.
Of course, the loving and gentle nature depicted here ultimately turns on the baby and the men, killing them in a large winter flood. This is Harte’s way of highlighting the fleeting nature of luck as well as the ways that nature's power can lead to both joy and sorrow.
When describing the calm evenings at Roaring Camp after baby Luck is born, Harte uses a simile and imagery, as seen in the following passage:
It was a fine sight to see Jack holding The Luck, rocking from side to side as if with the motion of a ship, and crooning forth this naval ditty […] At such times the men would lie at full length under the trees, in the soft summer twilight, smoking their pipes and drinking in the melodious utterances. An indistinct idea that this was pastoral happiness pervaded the camp.
The simile here—in which Jack’s rocking of baby Luck while singing him a lullaby is compared to “the motion of a ship”—communicates how gently Jack is rocking the child. Despite Jack’s normally rough sailor exterior, he treats baby Luck with immense care, rocking him back and forth in the manner of soft waves. This is one of the many examples of the ways that baby Luck’s presence challenges the hypermasculinity of the men in the camp.
The imagery here also shows how the men are softening as they raise the Luck. The descriptions of the men lying down in “the soft summer twilight” and “drinking in the melodious utterances” of Jack’s lullaby helps readers to imagine themselves into the scene, seeing the colors of twilight and hearing Jack’s tender singing, letting go of the performance of bravado along with the men.
When capturing the moment that baby Luck lets out his first cry, Harte uses imagery, as seen in the following passage:
In the midst of an excited discussion an exclamation came from those nearest the door, and the camp stopped to listen. Above the swaying and moaning of the pines, the swift rush of the river, and the crackling of the fire, rose a sharp, querulous cry,—a cry unlike anything heard before in the camp. The pines stopped moaning, the river ceased to rush, and the fire to crackle. It seemed as if Nature had stopped to listen too.
While Harte engages different senses with his imagery here, he is primarily focused on helping readers hear the importance of this moment. Baby Luck’s cry is layered on top of several other sounds—“the swaying and moaning of the pines,” “the swift rush of the river,” and “the crackling of the fire.” All of these descriptions help readers to be fully present in this pivotal scene, imagining themselves into the natural world of the Old West.
That baby Luck’s cry is described as “sharp,” “querulous,” and “unlike anything heard before in the camp” is significant. In addition to helping readers imagine the specific tone of a baby just being born, this language also denotes that baby Luck is going to be a major cause of change in the camp. Over the course of the story, he proves himself to be “unlike anything” that has come before, inspiring these hard-hearted, criminal men to transform into kind and loving caregivers.
