Thirteen; stories of the far West

University of California • Berkeley

Purchased from the
JOSEPH Z. AND HATHERLY B. TODD FUND

f- t *.* r

THIKTEEN

Stories of the Far West

BY

FOE BE S HEERMANS

SYRACUSE X. Y.
C. W. BARDEEN PUBLISHER

1887

COPYRIGHT 188T

BY
FORBES HEERMANS.

THIS VOLUME

IS

DEDICATED

TO THE ONE PERSON IN WHOSE LITERARY TASTE THE AUTHOR

HAS ENTIRE CONFIDENCE
THE MAN WHO BUYS IT

BY WAY OF EXPLANATION.

So far as the author knows, this book has no par-
ticular ' mission '; it was not even written to ' fill a
long felt want,' and if any reader should discover a
want that it does fill, nicely, he will confer a favor on
the author by notifying him to that effect — by mail.

As to the title— THIKTEEN— the author claims
that its merit lies in its utter irrelevancy.

As to the stories themselves, he wishes to say that
they are reports of actual experiences, written up from
his note-book, with such changes in names, places and
minor incidents as his personal safety seems to require.
Some attempt has also been made to expurgate the
language sufficiently to bring it within civilized lim-
its, without wholly losing its idiomatic flavor.

The author awaits the verdict of the public with
trepidation, but meekly submits his work — and starts
at once for the FAR EAST.

CONTENTS.

PAGE.

I. SHINGLES 9.

II. THE WIDOW OF THE LATE SMITH 25.

III. ALANASCAR AND HIS UNCLE 41.

IV. THE ASCENT OF UNCOMPAHGRE 58.

V, THE DESCENT OF UNCOMPAHGRE 76.

VI. BURIED UNDER AN AVALANCHE 81.

VII. THE WEDDING AT PUERTA DA LUNA _ _ 94.

VIII. ON WATCH WITH THE NIGHT HERD 113.

IX. DON QUIXOTE DE SANTA ROSA 123.

X. THE ASSAYER'S STORY 159.

XI. THE LOG OF A LANDSMAN 187.

XII. MOLOKAI— DEATH'S VALLEY 198.

XIII. THE HOME OF EVERLASTING FIRE .. ..241.

I. SHINGLES,

There was no question about it, the mining camp
at Clay's Gulch was wide awake. You might know
that by looking at the door of the Oasis, the principal
establishment in the place for the dissemination of li-
quids. Through this door, which stood wide open as
if to let in a little of the pure air and sunshine, so
plentiful without, so rare within, where the fumes of
whiskey and tobacco hung thick and fetid, might be
seen some of the residents of Clay's Gulch ; men in
rough dress, whose stern faces that bright morning in
June seemed harder and sterner than ever. For the
camp had been having a night of it, anyone could tell
you that ; and the consequences of that night had been
unpleasant, even to those who were used to that sort
of thing, as most of the men of the Gulch were.

Bob Stortles was lying dead in what he had called
his house, and a little blue spot on his left temple in-
dicated clearly the cause of his death. It needed no
coroner's inquest to settle that ; there wasn't a man
in the camp who couldn't swear to what Bob had
died of.

And that wasn't all ! Mrs. Bob Stortles was lying
dead in the same cabin, and the cause of her death was
equally well known — consumption.

Bob was one of those men who failing to get along
in the East had gone West to do better. That was
A

10 SHINGLES.

two years ago, and he had as regularly failed there as
before. He left a young wife behind him to do the
best she could and take care of, the baby that was born
a half year after. Bob wouldn't help them any;
he had all he could do to keep himself from starv-
ing, but when at last she wrote that she was dying, he
borrowed the money and sent for her to come to him.
Shingles was the man who lent it to him, and Shin-
gles was Bob's partner. Not that Shingles was any
richer than Bob, for he wasn't, but he had a few odd
trinkets that he had managed to save through all his
ups and downs and — well, Bob got some money, and
Mrs. Bob came to Clay's Gulch.

" You see, old man," said Bob to Shingl' after he
had sent for his wife, " I look at it in this \voy ; the at-
mosphere is Al for Sally in course, an' the stirrin'
round and me bein' with her'll brace her up. And
there's the Kid ! it'll do lot's for the Kid.'

Shingles assented to this with a nod. That was his
way. He never had anything to say ; a nod or a shake
of the head was a whole paragraph with him. He had
never been heard to utter a complete sentence but once
and that was when he and Bob were working the
61 Ghostly Hole " claim, and found a nugget. Bob used
to relate the story in the Oasis, telling how Shingles,
taken by surprise had exclaimed :

"It's worth a thousand, Bob!"

It was worth a thousand but it was soon gone. Bob
took it to the bank, sold it, and the same evening lost
the money to Major Burke at poker.

" Who'd a thought the blamed fool held fours ? " Bob
said to Shingles next day, " why, he drew three ! "

THE COMPLETE THING. 11

Shingles never complained ; you really couldn't tell
from the looks of him that he ever thought of the
matter. But then, tha* was another of Shingle's pe-
culiarities. He wasn't popular in the camp ; he was
hardly known, while Bob was everybody's friend.
Shingles loved Bob in that silent, enduring way, the
strong sometimes feel for the weak, and Bob accepted
the homage thus paid him, and assumed to be Shingles's
protector.

When Mrs. Bob and the baby came, matters did not
improve, but rather grew worse. If it hadn't been for
Shingles, more than once they would have starved.
But all that he did and all that Bob tried to do, was
of no av '^, and three months after she arrived Mrs.
Bob died. 'That night Bob went into the camp ; he was
in trouble, poor fellow, and he did what he'd often
done befo"^, drowned his care in rum. The story is
short. Inflamed by the liquor, he quarreled with a
stranger, and making a motion to draw his pistol, the
next moment Bob was with his wife and the little blue
-spot on his temple told the story.

Then occurred an event which for a time caused
.some little talk in Clay's Gulch. The man who shot
Bob was sent after him at just midnight. As Captain
Pish, the proprieter of the Oasis, and the most influ-
ential man in the place, remarked, with grim humor :

" Taint the shootin' of him so much that we object
to, but it's the shootin' of him now, his wife bein*
dead an' him a havin' on his hands a little Kid. In
this case I don't see ez we kin do less'n the complete
thing."

12 SHINGLES.

And they did < the complete thing,' and then there
were three lying dead in the camp.

The question of a place of burial for Bob and his
wife, being deemed of small importance, was left to-
Shingles to decide.

•" You know'd him best, you know, bein' his pard-
ner," said the Sheriff, who acted as Master of Cere-
monies, "an5 bein' familiar with his tastes, I reckon
you can guess pretty close what he'd fancy for a
shaft."

Shingles nodded and pointed to the claim he and
Bob had worked for a time and then abandoned.

"There!" he said.

" What ! the Ghostly Hole ! " said the Sheriff.

Shingles nodded again.

" Well, I dunno but you're right," said the Sheriff
after a thoughtful pause, " 'taint good for nothin'
else," and so Bob and his wife were buried there.

Then the question arose : " What'll we do with the
Kid ? " and a meeting of the Committee was called to
settle it. Mrs. Bob had been the first woman in the
camp, and this was the first baby, and the novelty of
the situation made it a perplexing one. Promptly at
two o'clock on the day after the funeral, the meeting
came to order in the back room of the Oasis, Captain
Fish in the chair. He opened the proceedings with
a short speech.

" You know the situation, gen'lemen," he said ;
" here's a Kid less'n two year old, an orphan, gen'le-
men and poor — " here the committee nodded as one
man — " and I won't say how it become an orphan, for
you all know." The committee nodded again. "I

AN ODD PAIR. 13

reckon we'd better send it to the States, to some of its
folks ; it'll die here. What d'ye say ? "

The plan seemed to the committee the only feasible
one, and after due deliberation, Tom Kedway rose and
offered a resolution to that effect. He was interrupted
by the entrance of Shingles. No one had thought of
him before, though it was he who had been taking
•care of the baby since its mother's death. He slowly
advanced to where the committee sat and said :

" Ex-cuse me, boys, but it ain't goin' east. It can't !
It aint got no folks nor no money. It's Bob's Kid,
boys, and " — here his voice shook a little — " I reckon
to take care of it myself."

The committee was amazed ; Shingles had never be-
fore said so much — they did'nt know he had it in him
— and for a moment they were speechless. When
they recovered they burst into a simultaneous cheer ;
they slapped him on the back ; they punched him in
the ribs ; they invited him to drink and the way then
most in vogue showed their approval of his course.
By acclamation he was appointed guardian and the
Committee adjourned, relieved to have the quesion so
easily settled.

Then a new life began for Shingles and he had a
hard struggle to get along. Little Bob, 'twas so he
called the baby girl, though he always spoke of her to
others as Miss Bob, while she was a tender care to him,
troubled him greatly. He had to be with her con-
.stantly ; he had but little time to work and earn the
bread they both must eat, and often he went to bed
hungry, though little Bob had enough, you may be
•sure. Shingles daily grew poorer, and if the boys

14 SHINGLES.

hadn't now and then helped him out on the sly, he and
little Bob would have had a much harder time than they
did, and that was very hard indeed. But through all
his troubles Shingles never flinched ; he had devoted
his life to the child and he did his duty as he under-
stood it — manfully.

The odd association of Shingles and Bob at first
seemed very strange to the camp, but in a little while
the two became an institution. No body ever saw
Shingles without Bob or Bob without Shingles ; they
were always together. Yet still his luck held on the
same. The only change noticed in him was that he
talked more than formerly.

" What's come over you, Shingles ? " Jack Farmer
asked him one day; "You talk so much; didn't use to!n

"It's along of Miss Bob," Shingles answered,.
" somebody's got to learn her to talk so I just thought
I would."

Jack told with great effect, every night for a week,,
to a never tiring audience in the Oasis, of a little ad-
venture he had met with, " up to Shingleses ! "

"Yes siree ! you'd orter been there," he used to-
say. . " I'm a married man myself, m'wife bein' in
the States, an? I know what's what. I just looked in
th' door an' I'll be jiggered if there wa'nt old Shin-
gles down on his knees before the fire a washin'
that baby like he was its mother." [Here Jack was-
always interrupted by murmurs of approval.] "It
was as funny as four kings. An' there was the Kid
a laughin' and a carryin' on, an' old Shingles talkin'
to it an' bein so soft an' smooth — and every now 'an
then sir, that Kid would just splash a lot of water up

15

into old Shing's face an' laugh, an5 then he'd laugh too
an' — well it beat me, that's all — it beat me, clean."

The prosperity of Clay's Gulch meanwhile steadily
increased; it was mentioned in the Denver papers
as a remarkable example of a prosperous mining
camp ; people flocked to it from all parts, and by
the time Little Bob was four years old the place had
undergone great changes. And with the changes in
the place had come changes in Bob. She had learned
to walk, to talk, and to think in a childish way. She
had never been sick a day, and the out-door life she
led made her hardy and strong. By degrees Shingles
began to get ahead a little and prosper, for now that
Bob could take care of herself he devoted more time
to his work. But still he kept her closely by him ;
he seemed unhappy when at rare and short intervals she
was out of his sight. The two were the most popular
persons in camp ; he because of his wonderful care
and tender love for the child and she because — well,
because she was Little Bob. She had a free, off-hand
way with her that hit the fancy of the men and con-
trasted oddly with Shingles' taciturnity. She always
called him Shingles, he had taught her to do so. She
was not afraid of anyone, and she used the slang of
the camp in an easy way that sounded odd yet attract-
ive, while her grammar was that of Shingles. It got
to be a regular thing for the men to stroll out to call
on Bob and Shingles every pleasant Sunday afternoon,
to inquire how they were getting along. Shingles
received them gravely ; he realized that he was of
minor importance, and he made no effort to entertain
the guests, but let Bob play the important part.

16 SHINGLES.

" Me an' Shin'les," she would tell her admirers,
" dot a dood mine, but we need some more tapital,
doesn't we Shin'les ? "

And he would nod his head slowly, while the visit-
ors would roar with laughter and slap their legs
resoundingly, to express their amusement.

As Shingles began to get ahead, though it was very
slowly at first, he became extravagant in the direction
of Bob. No one ever went to Denver from the camp
without having some little commission to execute for
him. In this way Bob became the owner, among
many other things, of a gold watch, massive cameo
ear-rings and brooch, and a pug dog, the last her great-
est treasure. Once when Colonel Moody went east,
"for the purpose of enlisting idle capital in develop-
ing the vast mineral resources of the country," Shin-
gles asked him to buy Bob a suit of clothes. u An' it
ought to be the la-test thing for style," he added. He
had always dressed Bob as a boy, because he had once
heard her express profound contempt for girls in gen-
eral. The Colonel willingly accepted the commission
and brought back with him four suits of boy's cloth-
inof, of different sizes and of the most elaborate pat-
terns imaginable.

" I reckoned Bob would grow some, you know," he
said half apologetically, as he handed the bundle to
Shingles, "they most generally do, so I just allowed for
it. There aint nothin' to pay," and off he walked,
leaving Shingles his firm friend from that day.

As the camp grew and prospered, its appearance
underwent a change ; it began to wear a settled look ;
permanent buildings replaced the old wooden struc-

BOB WONT GO. 17

tures ; a railroad at last reached there and Clay's
Gulch became a town of importance. With these
changes came women, and among them Jack Farmer's
wife who, when she heard from Jack the story of
Shingles and Little Bob went straight to see them.
She pitied Little Bob, and she pitied poor Shingles
too, and she urged him to send Bob to her, to live
with her children. She was one of the kind you some-
times find in just such places ; a woman you could
trust your soul with and have no fear.

" It seems to me, 'Mr. Shingles," she said, "the lit-
tle girl would be better away from the — that is, if she
could be with children of her own age," and as she
spoke her kindly blue eyes filled with tears as she
thought of the child's unhappy lot. She didn't know
Shingles then.

Poor Shingles was upset ; he had never been called
Mr. Shingles before, and the thought of parting with
Bob quite unmanned him. His life had been a lonely
one until she came ; he had never loved or been loved
before, and as he sat there, Little Bob quietly perched
on his knee and quite unconscious of what was going
on, two big tears rolled down his rough cheeks. Then
he seized her in his arms and clasping her tight to his
breast, kissed her silently.

She looked up in surprise,

" What oo tryin' for, Shingles?" she asked.

Shingles shook his head ; he couldn't speak.

" Oh ! oo is ; I seed oo ! "

" Bob ; " said Shingles, at length ; " this lady wants
to take you with her to play with her little girls.
Will you go?"

18 SHINGLES.

" To teep me always ? " she said, her eyes staring
large and round at Shingles.

" Yes— always. Will you go ? "

"No-o-!" cried Bob, and the next instant she was
sobbing on his shoulder. He didn't attempt to console
her; indeed, he didn't know how to. He had never
seen her cry like that before ; it troubled him and al-
most before he knew it he and Bob were in tears to-
gether. Mrs. Farmer, not knowing what else to do,
left them there, thinking the time had not yet came to
part them.

And then another change was noticed in Shingles.
From being careless in his dress he became noted for
his fine attire. ~No one who knew him ever intimated
that this was remarked. It was generally understood
that it was on little Bob's account.

But Brown, the new proprietor of the Oasis — and
successor to Captain Fish, (who departed this life
through holding three aces and two kings against his
opponent's three kings and two aces and being a little
slow with his pistol), rallied Shingles a little.

"What's up, boy?" he said, "goin' courtin' ?
Where does she live? "

Shingles did not take this in the wildly humorous
way Brown meant it — he never did take things in a
humorous way — and passed on without a nod.

That night Brown told the story in the Oasis, giving
it all the droll emphasis he was capable of, but it fell
flat.

" I'll tell you why he looked like a gentleman ;
growled Tom Redway. " Little Bob was five years
old last week ; remember that ! "

Every Sunday Shingles might be seen, clean shaven
and dressed in his finest suit of checkered clothesy
seated in a front pew of the largest church in Clay's
Gulch, and little Bob was always with him. If the
weather was bad he carried her all the way in his armsy
or as she much preferred to ride, on his back.

" I didn't think a little gospel'd do Miss Bob any
harm," he said, apologetically, to the minister who-
called on him one day. As if to develop this theory
he every Sunday afternoon read to Bob parts of the
Bible, spelling the words slowly out and expounding
their meaning in a manner suited, as he thought, to-
her youthful intelligence.

Captain Peters, a deputy sheriff, and popularly
known as " Little Casino," related with great glee at
the Oasis one Sunday evening, (at which time, in
deference to public opinion no liquor was sold between
seven and half-past, and no game allowed but poker)r
how he had that day called on Bob.

" There was old Shing, with the kid in his arms,
an' her fast asleep. There he was, sawin' away about
Moses and 'Li-jah, and his hull congregation asleep.
I most bust when I looked but I didn't dare laugh
fear I'd wake Bob, so I just came away silent."

All this time Shingles kept pegging along in his-
mine, not making much, but still making a little. If
he hadn't been Shingles, everyone would have laughed
at him for persisting in working a claim that had
never been a good one and could not, by any possi-
bility, improve.

" What you wastin' your time over that hole for ? ""
asked the sheriff, himself known as " Big Casino " 'r

SHINGLES.

" there's lots better ore all round ye. Give it up, man,
and stake out a new claim."

But Shingles shook his head.

" Can't do it Sherf ; this claim belonged to Old Bob
an' now its Miss Bob's, an' I, bein' her trus-tee, got to
work it fer her."

So he kept on, sometimes doing well, sometimes
poorly ; working hard in the tunnel all day and sit-
ting up half the night over his books. He had taught
Bob her letters and she was almost through words of
one syllable. He found it necessary to study hard,
lest she should get ahead of him. Still he persevered,
for he couldn't bear to think of her going away to
school yet awhile.

And now occurred an event which Clay's Gulch
remembered for many a day. Bob was a little more
than six years old and Shingles — well, never mind
how old he was, no one ever knew, not even Shingles
himself. It was a warm, clear day in May; matters
had not been going very well with Shingles for some
time, in fact they had been going very badly. Once
or twice he had almost lost courage and in his heart
he believed the Sheriif was right and his mine — Bob's
mine — was played out. Each night for a month past,
as he left the tunnel, he felt low spirited, and each
night as he caught sight of Bob he forgot his trouble
and answered her question :

" How's our mine, Shingles ? " with a cheerful :
-"All right, little Bob."

On this particular morning he felt unusually down
hearted, but he didn't pause for that and entered the
tunnel. He did not appear at noon, and Bob went to

IN THE TUNNEL. 21

look for him. Such a thing as his being late had never
occurred before and she was surprised and troubled.

" Shin — gles ! " she called at the mouth of the tun-
nel, and " Shin — gles ! " was echoed out to her again,
but that was all. No cheery u Ay ! ay ! little Bob ! "
but only "Shin — gles" thrice repeated by the lone-
some echoes of the rocks. Bob was troubled ; she was
quite old enough to think for herself, yet she couldn't
understand it. She ventured a little way into the tun-
nel, cold and damp, and called again : " Shingles ! "
and still the echoes only answered. Her heart beat
fast. She knew he must be in the tunnel, and again
she advanced a few steps and called, and again she
heard no answer but her own voice. Frightened now,
she fancied she saw in the darkness ahead of her all sorts
of fearful things ; goblins, ghosts and demons ; the sto-
ries of elves and sprites she used to delight in now came
back to her mind and she shuddered in terror. The
slow trickle of the water down the sides of the tunnel
seemed like the hiss of snakes, and a piece of earth,
falling from the roof, sounded like the flutter of in-
visible wings. Still she kept on ; Shingles was in the
tunnel somewhere and she must find him ; and she
went on till she could go on no further. Across her
path lay a pile of rock ; the tunnel ended and yet —
where was he ? She called again and waited for an
answer, and again the hollow echoes mocked her.
But in another instant she heard a sound that made
her heart bound with fear ; she started for the light,
yet paused again to listen. This time the sound was
plainer — it was Shingles' voice :

" Bob, you there ? " she heard, hollow and strange.

22 SHINGLES.

" Oh Shingles ! " cried Bob, " where are you ? "

"In here," said Shingles, " I'm— ketched— Bob,
run fur — the boys," and almost before he had spoken
Bob was gone. Like a flash she darted from the tun-
nel's mouth, past the goblins, past the elves, out into
the blessed sunlight and then — where ? The nearest
mine was a mile away, but Bob didn't think of the
distance. " Shingles was ketched ! " that was enough
and away she dashed down the rough path. It was well
for Bob now that her life had been spent in the moun-
tains, and it was well for Shingles too. On she ran,
never pausing, never heeding, scarcely seeing where
she went, yet never stumbling nor falling — she couldn't
fall ; wasn't Shingles ketched, and musn't she get him
out? In an incredibly short time she reached the
other mine — it was Jack Farmer's — gasping and sob-
bing, her cheeks lined with tears. Jack saw her com-
ing ; he knew something was wrong and he ran to
meet her.

" Hullo ! Bob ! What's up ? " he cried.

" Shingles — ketched ! " was all she could say as she
-dropped down crying as if her heart would break.
But Jack didn't need to be told any more. With a
shout he summoned his three companions, and point-
ing to Bob, silently explained it all. Then, picking
her up in his great, strong arms, he started on a run
for Shingles' mine, followed by his men.

"There! there Bob!" he said consolingly, " it's all
right ; we'll have him out; everybody gits ketched now
an' then."

He couldn't talk very much ; he was running too fast,
and Bob cried herself out on his kindly shoulder.

MAKING A WILL. 23

At last they found Shingles, or what was left of him,
and carried him out into the daylight. He was badly
hurt ; the doctor who had been summoned from the
town shook his head when he saw him, and whispered
something to Jack. He nodded grimly ; he knew as
well as the doctor it was all up with Shingles ; he had
seen that sort of thing before. Shingles watched their
faces with that hungry look he had so often worn be-
fore little Bob had come into his life. Then he spoke
— slowly and painfully.

"I reckon — I und'stand ye — I'm ketched — in earn-
est," he said.

" Yes," said the doctor, gravely, " I think I ought
to tell you you cannot get well."

Just then one of the men who had rescued Shingles
whispered something to Jack. He started and en-
tered the tunnel.

" You had better make your will," continued the
doctor, " If you haven't done so,"

" It's all right," said Shingles, the cold sweat stand-
ing on his forehead ; " I done it — long ago — I give —
and — bequeath to — my beloved ward — Miss Bob —
Stortles— the hull of — my worldly goods — where —
ever found — and — may — God — have mercy — on my
soul — Amen — taint »much — I'm leavin' — ye Bob —
don't cry Bob — we all — got to go — sometime — I done
my — duty by ye Bob — 'cordin' as — I seen it — 'taint
much but its — all yourn — an' "

Just then Jack returned, greatly excited. " Shin-
gles ! " he cried, "do you know what that cave did
for you ? "

Shingles shook his head ; he knew well enough ; it

SHIXGLES.

had done him to death, but lie didn't want to say eo
before Bob.

" It has made you rich," said Jack; " it has showed
up the vein, at last, and you're a millionaire."

A happy smile lit up Shingle's pale face. "'Taint
fur me — its fur Bob," he said. " She's the — million-
aire— I'm dyin' — Jack — but it's — all right — Bob's rich
— I've made you an' your wife — guardeens, Jack —
you'll be kind to — Bob, won't you? I'm happy —
now." Bob was sobbing like a child. " Kiss me —
Bob dear — an' I give— an' bequeath to my — beloved
ward — Miss — Bob — Stortles the — hull of — my worldly
— goods — wherever — found — and may — God — have —
mercy on — my— " and Shingles was dead.

That night Jack told the story to the men who
went to his house. Everyone in the camp wanted to
hear of it and before he had gotten half through the
rough men were blinking their eyes and rubbing their
coat sleeves across their faces.

" There was them two," said Jack, his voice grow-
ing a little husky as he went on, " him — old Shingles
— lying there dead, an' little Bob kneelin' by his side
an' sayin' the prayers he had taught her. It was
mor'n I could stand," and he buried his face in his
hands and cried like a child.

II. THE WIDOW OF THE LATE SMITH,

There were five of us in the coach, a huge, solid
affair, resembling an immense box. It rested on
enormous leather straps that allowed it to swing with
a motion that is best described by saying it was diag-
onal, though in fact it was not diagonal at all. One
moment we found ourselves sliding toward the fore-
most corner on the left, as the wheel on that side
dropped heavily into some almost bottomless hole;
the next instant we would be flying with pleasant
unanimity through the rear window on the right, and
again, seeking to force an outlet through the roof or
floor. But the resultant of these motions, put together,,
added and divided, is most nearly described by the
word diagonal and so — diagonal it is.

All five of the passengers were riding inside, for it
was a day in November — cold and cloudy, and a light
snow was spasmodically falling, as if really uncertain
whether to stop or go on, but on the whole, rather in
favor of going on, it being a characteristic of western
habits never to give up anything for any cause what-
ever, once it was began. So, while a seat outside
just at that time was better than no seat at all,
it was by no means so desirable as a seat inside,
which is coming it pretty strong against the outside,
certainly.

B " (25)

2b THE WIDOW OF THE LATE SMITH.

The road we were to traverse led through the moun-
tains of Colorado, from the mining camp of Green-
wood (though why Greenwood none can say — it was
way above timber line) to Leadville. It was fairly
good wheeling, as that word is understood in the
Rockies, but six stout mules had all they could do
to manage the 'coach. One moment they were groan-
ing and straining up some steep incline; the next
fairly lifted from their feet as we dashed furiously
down a hill, our speed only partially checked by the
brake, which Tommy the driver would frantically
apply.

Everyone in the west has a title of some sort, no
matter whether he has a right to it or not, and the five
men in the coach were known as the Colonel, the Major,
the Judge, the Doctor and the Professor. It is sur*
prising how soon one becomes acquainted with his
companions in such a place. Whether this is due to
the commonalty of sensations that govern the passen-
gers, as the vehicle lurches to the right or left, or the
sociability of the men themselves, I can't say. The
fact remains however, and in less than half an hour
after we had started, I was on familiar terms with the
past history, present occupation, size of pile, and name
of each of my fellow travelers.

On the coach was an Express box, said to contain
$30,000 in bullion, the product of the Greenwood
mines. In a rack near the driver's feet hung two
Colt's revolvers and a Winchester rifle. The road was
considered safe enough, for no robbery had occurred
there since the camp had been in existence,, still the
stage company preferred to take reasonable pre-
cautions. Hence the weapons.

WESTERN EXHORTATION. 27

After we had exchanged our names and such parts
of our personal history as we felt free to give, we re-
lapsed into silence. The Westerner, although a soci-
.able, is not a talkative animal ; he converses in heats.
For a time our quiet was unbroken, save by the
groaning and creaking of the coach, the cracking of
the driver's whip and his rapidly uttered oaths.

Perhaps it is well that justice can never be done —
in print — to the profanity of the western mule driver.
It is as impossible to describe as the singing of some
beautiful aria by some sweet voiced singer. Not that
the two can be compared in any way ; I merely wished
to illustrate the utter inadequacy of words in type to
represent the sounds.

It was at the end of one of Tommy's flowery peri-
ods, (which came to our rescue when the coach, stuck
fast at the foot of a veritable Hill of Difficulty, had
at last been dragged up by the mules, inspired by the
•out-pouring) that the gentlemen occupying the mid-
dle seat — left, broke the silence. We knew him as
Professor Blood, "the hull owner of the Blackeye
mine of Greenwood, an' several others." It was at
the close of Tommy's exhortation I say, which began
softly arid slowly, then gradually increased in volume,
speed and power, until the flow was simply overwhelm-
ing, that the ' Professor ' remarked pleasantly :

u Tommy seems to swear tol'able easy, I'm thinkin'.
7Tis a great gift ; wonderful what 'twill do sometimes.
When I was a teamin' it up to Leadville, I would a
bet willin' I could cuss a dead mule up a six hundred
foot grade, with a load, and all by the parts o' speech.
It's just like anythin' else though, takes practice."

28 THE WIDOW OF THE LATE SMITH.

" Those was great days," he went on with a ret-
rospective sigh, " great days. We was gettin' twenty
and thirty cents a pound fur stuff, an' makin' slathers
o' money : an' losin' it too," he added with a laugh.

" I 'member comin' down over the divide one night
alone, with three thousan' dollars in my pocket, when
a d — d road agent held me up an' cleaned me out.
I was pretty blamed mad but I had to ante."

" I'd like to know," said the Doctor, " how one or
two men can stop and rob a dozen, all well armed.
It looks as if they had no nerve. I don't think I'd
stand it."

The Judge whistled softly at this remark ; the
Major smiled and made a pretence of wiping the win-
dow with his coat sleeve and looking out ; the Colonel
expectorated mournfully. The Professor alone wa&
calm.

" Pardner," said he looking the Doctor in the eye,
and tapping him gently on the knee as he spoke, " was
you ever held up ? "

The Doctor shook his head.

" I thought likely," said the Professor significantly,
" Just look here : when you are stopped you ante
quietly and perlitely. It's runnm' too much of a risk
to object. If any man is lookin' fur a chance to climb
the golden stairs, through barin' of his buzzum for his
fellow creatures — without compensation — let him. It
aint in my line, I'm pretty sure, an' so I say, if ever
you're held up you jest fork without any back talk —
it's really the cheapest, and a long way the safest."

These sentiments seemed to meet with universal
approval from the other occupants of the coach, and

29

the Doctor, quite crushed by the weight of opinion
against him relapsed into silence.

After this the conversation became desultory. Now
and then a passenger would volunteer a remark
which sometimes elicited a reply and sometimes did
not. Often, as the road led up some steep incline,
we would get out and walk, to restore, by exercise,
the circulation in our benumbed limbs. Twice the
coach stopped at relay stations, where fresh mules
were harnessed in the place of the tired out animals.
The stations were nothing more than rough log stables,
with accomodations for the men who fed and cared
for the mules.

The snow had been falling all the afternoon in fine
flakes, and had spread over the earth a thin white
cover that partially hid the roughness of the moun-
tains and whitened the light that came through the
clouds, into which we sometimes drove. The road
was becoming very heavy and our progress slow, when
to our relief the coach, about four o'clock, entered a
small park of a few hundred acres and pulled up in
front of Sampson's — twelve miles from Leadville.
While fresh mules were being harnessed we alighted,
and stepped into the room that served as bar, office,
parlor and reading room, for Sampson's was a hotel as
well as a relay station.

The establishment was owned and managed by Mr.
Sampson and his wife Almiry, or to put it in another
way, Sampson's and Sampson himself were controlled
by Almiry. A modern Delilah she, who, when she
married Sampson had, speaking figuratively, clipped
his locks and left him deprived of all ambition. There

30 THE WIDOW OF THE LATE SMITH.

was a rumor current that Sampson drank, a rumor not
altogether without foundation, since no one had ever
seen him entirely sober. His sole duty was to tend
bar, and when not occupied in ministering to the
liquid wants of others, he was looking after himself.
There was but one beverage sold at Sampson's — whis-
key— though there hung upon the wall back of the
rough bar, an illuminated card, setting forth in fly-
specked characters, the superior merits of Hall's
Jamaica Ginger. But as for the Ginger, that was
not to be had. Nor were there any indications, be-
yond dusty lithographs nailed askew to the wooden
partitions, that Soda Water, Seltzer, or Mumm's
Extra Dry, were procurable on demand. And so it
was fortunate that the systems of those passengers
who needed stimulation, craved whiskey only, for
that was positively all there was. On the sticky bar
stood a half-dozen thick, dirty glasses, side by side
with the long-necked bottle, half filled with an amber
fluid, while a rude sign fixed to the wall just over
Sampson's bald and somewhat inflamed head, set forth
in terse, though rather profane terms, the business
principles of the establishment, to wit :

"IN GOD WE TRUST;
ALL OTHERS PAY CASH."

We had not noticed at first, in the dim light of the
room, the figure of a woman, clad in deep black and
wearing a heavy veil drawn over her face. She sat in
a dark corner and seemed to shrink from observation.
But when Tommy entered, after looking to his cattle,
and had fortified his nerves with four fingers of the
" reg'lar thing," swallowed without a murmur, Al-

LOVELY WOMAN. 31

miry took him aside and engaged him in earnest con-
versation, and her gestures then for the first time
directed our attention to the woman.

Our halt was necessarily short and we were soon
back in the coach ; the mules had been changed
and we were ready to start. But Tommy lingered,
and when at length he appeared at the door, seemed
in no hurry. He stood there, slowly drawing on his
gloves and surveying the scene with a carelessly criti-
cal eye and an expression of countenance that seemed
to indicate that as for him, if he were to be given the
chance, he could make a good deal better world than
this one — easy. In his mouth was a cigar, tipped up
at such an angle that the glowing end nearly touched
the wide brim of his sombrero. The Major, irrever-
ently inspired,' voiced the sentiments of the party
when he remarked, in a drawling tone :

" I reckon that after bein' the angel Gabriel, for
pure glory an' so forth I'd ruther be a driver to a
coach, than most anythin' ! "

Just then there appeared in the doorway the lady
in black, whom Thomas gallantly offered his arm to
and thus escorted to the coach. As they approached,
the Colonel gave a little groan. "We're goin' to
have lovely woman along with us," he said, plain-
tively. Consternation was depicted on each face
when the coach door was opened and Tommy looking
in, remarked authoritatively : " Sorry gen'lemen, but
I shall hev to trouble you. Here's a lady goin' to
Leadville an' she's goin' inside. Jump in, marm ! "
and in the young woman jumped with remarkable

32 THE WIDOW OF THE LATE SMITH.

lightness, and took the vacant seat in the forward
corner.

" Cornel, }7ou'll look after her," said Tommy at the
door ; " she's in my charge. Widder of Smith, she
is ; him that was killed down to the Walker mine last
month, but she don't savvy a word of English,
bein' French. You know'd Smith didn't ye, Cornel ? "

"Yes, I know'd him well enough, but I never
know'd he had a widder. I'll look after her — in
English," growled the Colonel, and the door slammed
and the stage rolled ahead.

As we pulled out the clouds parted for an instant and
a bright ray of sunlight lit up the coach, striking full up-
on the dark veil of our new companion. It made briefly
visible the outlines of her face, and those of us who
were fortunate enough to catch a glimpse of it were
convinced that the lady had great beauty. Indeed, the
Judge, who had a happy facility of expression, ac-
quired from a long, though not lucrative practice at
the bar, leaned over to the Doctor and whispered in
tones of fervent admiration :

" She's as pretty as Cle-op-e-try, by Jove ! " to
which the Doctor responded with an assenting nod of
much vigor.

Nowhere in the world is a lady more certain of re-
spectful consideration than in the wild West. She is
invariably treated with a chivalrous gallantry that is
really magnificent ; men hasten to do her homage and
are proud to be commanded by her. Still the pres-
ence of Mrs. Smith in the coach acted on the party
as a little restraint, which the Judge and the Colonel
vainly endeavored to dispel.

33

" Fond of travelin', ma'am ? " said the latter, in his
best off-hand style, as he leaned towards her and smiled
handsomely. The lady made no reply and the Judge
knocked the Colonel's elbow.

" Sh ! Cornel ! " he said ; " you don't s'pose she un-
derstands you, when it's as much as / can do to untan-
gle your ideas from your words. She speaks French ! "

The Colonel accepted the rebuke meekly and made
no further conversational effort. The road became
more and more difficult as we advanced, and the fresh
mules were unruly and drove very hard. Several
times, in bad places, they had balked, and the coach
had swung around in a way that would have upset a
lighter vehicle, yet no exclamation of alarm escaped
from the lady, who sat motionless in her corner.

" Tumble bad place to be held up 'long here," said
the Major, after an unusually long silence, during
which the coach had slowly pounded over a huge rock
and then slid off with an unpleasant scrunch. "I
should hate to be stopped here, for I have a little mat-
ter of twelve hundred dollars about me, which I don't
care to lose. Of course we're all friends here ? " he
hastily asked.

We were, and it then came out that each man was
carrying various sums of money, ranging from five
hundred to four thousand dollars, the last amount be-
ing the property of the Colonel, who described accu-
rately how he had concealed it in a package sewed in
his clothing next to his body, where it was quite in-
accessible to dishonest persons.

" I reckon it'll take a pretty smart chap to find that,"
he remarked complacently, as he slapped his hand on

34 THE WIDOW OF THE LATE SMITH.

the spot where the treasure was concealed. We could
not deny this, and murmurs of admiration were heard
at his shrewdness. All this time — in fact since we left
Sampson's — the mysterious Mrs. Smith had not moved
or changed her position. She still kept her veil down,
and in the slowly waning light her black dress seemed
to emphasize the shadows in the coach.

" Judge," said the Major, at length, " It must be
lonesome for her. You're consid'able of a lingo-ist,
couldn't you give her a little touch in the native, just
to be perlite ? "

The Judge looked embarrassed and scratched hi&
head confusedly.

"Why, mebbe I might rack out some French," he
said, "it aint much to do, but er — what'll I say? You
got to be mighty circumspec' in talkin' French to a
lady — it's a terrible free langwidge."

Both the military men were impressed by this, the
Colonel particularly so, and fora moment his face was
expressive of painful perplexity.

" Well, just say somethin' civil," he said at length ;
" ask her if she wants the winder up. 'Taint likely
she does, but you might ask her."

"Oh no! Cornel," said the Judge, "not that.
That partickler word winder — in French" — here the
Judge lowered his voice to a whisper, " is cussin' an*
you'll hev to excuse me. That's where ./draw the line."

" Well, chin your own way then," said the Colonel
testily, " though I reckon I can open a winder fur a
lady — in French — without breakin' any of the Com-
mandments. Only say somethin' or we'll think you
don't know how."

A LITTLE PASEAE. 35-

This was touching the Judge on a tender spot, and
looking at the Colonel with an air of haughty dignity,
he said slowly :

" If it'll amuse the boys, I reckon I'll take a little
pasear, though I'm a trifle rusty in my langwidges
just now. Had consid'able practice too, down in San
Migell county."

Then with a soft ahern ! and a flourish of his hand-
kerchief he leaned forward, and casting a bewitching
smile at the lady, murmured :

"Buenos dias, senora. Habeis vosotros — er — that
is — como esta vey ? "

The lady made no answer ; in fact seemed not to
hear, but the Judge was in nowise disconcerted.

" Reckon she was thinkin' of the late lamented, and
didn't wholly catch on to my idee," he remarked
pleasantly. " I'll open another lead," and again he-
smiled as he murmured :

" These gen'lemen — " indicating us with a graceful
and comprehensive sweep, "fern' gen'lemen, and well
acquainted with good sassiety, hev asked me to pass
their compliments to you ma'am, which I now do.
Er — el tiempo es bien inconstanty senora, and esta —
er — ; " the Judge concluded the sentence with a
gesture. " It's a little remark in the vernacular of the
French," he explained, "an' I reckon it'll fetch her."

It certainly did seem to have some effect, for the
lady uttered a sound strangely like a chuckle, but said
nothing.

" Judge," said the Colonel, after waiting a reason-
able time for an answer, " I'm afraid your langwidges
have been — so to speak — tampered with. I've always

-36 THE WIDOW OF THE LATE SMITH.

allowed there was some difference between French
and Spanish, myself"

The Judge waxed indignant. " A joke's a joke an'
•all right," he said, " but I didn't s'pose there was a man
here but knowed the roots of the two langwidges was
the same, an' if you can only confine your talkin' to
roots — an' you gen'rally can in genteel sassiety — it
makes no odds whether it is French or Spanish."

"All right Judge, all right," said the Colonel,
soothingly ; " of course we know'd that well an' good,
but a man must have his little joke now an' then.
But ask her — in your roots — if she's any objection to
smoke."

The Judge — partly mollified — did not essay this in
speech, but beginning even farther back than "roots,"
managed to ask the questions by signs. The lady
nodded her assent with vivacity, and drawing a silver
case from her pocket, took therefrom a cigarette, which
after raising her veil a little she placed between her
lips. At first we were amazed, but the Colonel, with
that savoir vivre which had always distinguished him
and made him so popular with the sex, quickly recov-
ered himself, and gallantly offered the lady a light,
which she graciously accepted. Then murmurs of admi-
ration were heard. The Major audibly compared her
" a butterfly and a whip-poor-will, by Gad! " the Col-
onel swore the " she took him, blamed if she didn't,"
while the Judge repeated his former opinion and de-
clared that "she was a reg'lar Cle-op-etry from the
word go." The Professor was silent but I have rea-
son for believing that he endorsed all the others.

EVENING ON THE EOAD. 3T

" What I admire in lovely wimmiri," said the
Colonel, as we sat there quietly smoking, " is the er—
the ability she possesses to adapt herself to circum-
stances, as illustrated in the above. We are all friends
here — in course — so we can be comfortable, but I'm
safe in sayin' I shall be glad to git to Leadville. That
little matter of four thousand dollars I got sewed into
my — Judge, sure the lady can't understand Eng-
lish— my — in fact, gen'lemen, my shirt," said the
Colonel frankly, again indicating the exact location
of the treasure, "is a tax on my mind, an' I want to
git it off."

Outside the snow had ceased falling and the
dusk of a winter's evening was slowly deepening into
darkness. High up on the slope that rose on our
right stood a solitary pine tree, that had pushed its
way through the rocks, and now stood, lonesome and
sad, by night and day, keeping a melancholy watch on
the valley. The sun, long since hidden to us below,
shot a ray as a good-night message, and for an instant
the tree was ablaze ; then the light died quickly out and
we were in semi-darkness again. The road wound its
way around the face of a high cliff ; on one side tow-
ered a wall of rock sheer three hundred feet ; on the
other sunk an unsoundable chasm. Tommy sat on the
box, his two lamps lit, and his tongue playing a rapid,
accompaniment to his whip. Inside, the small
reflector at the end of the coach only served to make
the night without seem darker than it was. Silently
we sat there smoking, the ends of our cigars alter-
nately glowing and dimming in the dingy air. An
unusual volley of oaths from the box, a cracking of

38 THE WIDOW OF THE LATE SMITH.

whips, a shouting, and then the stopping of tlie coach
with a lurch startled us out of our quiet. Then a
shout from Tom as he spoke to his cattle, and a voice,
ringing like a bugle, was heard from the rocks above.

" Come ! none o' that ! Make a straight haul for it,
d — n you ! Throw off that box ! Lively now ! Put
up your hands an' git down ! Everyone of you, git
down ! "

Sorrowfully we obeyed. The description the Pro-
fessor had given a few hours before of our probable
sensations was exactly true. A pair of six-shooters,
held in the hands of a stalwart man, whose face was
partly concealed by a black mask, hastened our
descent, and in a moment we found ourselves ranged
in line, with our hands above our heads, a meek, un-
happy, cowed group. At one end of the line stood
Tommy, swearing savagely at his luck ; at the other
stood the Colonel, cool, impassive, dignified, confi-
dent in the security of his treasure. The last to
descend was the widow, but a widow no longer, for
out of the coach there sprang an active young fellow,
of slender but sinewy build, smooth shaven, dressed in
the conventional garb of the western rider, and carry-
ing in his hand a nickle plated six shooter. And this
was Mrs. Smith — who did not speak English. Any
one standing near the Judge at that time, might have
heard an exclamation, both forcible and profane. The
•" widow " heard it, for with a little laugh he (or she)
touched his finger to his lips and said :

" Hush, Judge ! that's cussin', an' you draw the line
there, you know."

NO HURRY TO MOVE. 6V

And then he proceeded to search the pockets of his
fellow travelers, as if it were a very common-place
affair, which it certainly was not, arid relieve them of
their valuables, his associate keeping guard meantime.
Down the line he went, doing his work quickly but
carefully, but before he was done the other began
to grow impatient.

" Hurry up, Jim ! " he said. " Ain't you most
through ? We're late."

" All done but this one," said Jim, the quondam
widow, as he halted before the Colonel. " He's got
four thousand dollars sewed plum to his shirt. I
reckon I'll hev to rip the old coon open to git it."
Saying which he drew his knife and with a quick
movement, as if to disembowel the Colonel, slipped
the point through his clothing, and with a wrench
pulled out the package.

" Sorry to trouble you, gents," said the larger man,
bowing politely, " but I won't detain you much longer,
fur I know you want to git to Leadville. I hope this
old gen'leman," pointing to the rent in the Colonel's
dress, " won't take cold. He must be careful — good
men are scarce." The Colonel snorted. "You will
kindly stand just where you are till I give the word.
There is a few friends of mine a lookin' at us from
them rocks, and I really wouldn't move very much if I
was you — I really wouldn't, fur their guns is all hair
triggers an' dreadful liable to go off. You won't
move now, will you ?

We would not! Wild horses could not have
dragged us from that spot, for up in the rocks we fan-
cied we could see two shining barrels, aimed truly at

40 THE WIDOW OF THE LATE SMITH.

us, and we were really anxious to remain quiet. Be-
fore we knew it we were alone ; our new acquaintances-
had vanished in the dusk, and an instant later we heard
the same voice, ringing out above us:

" Git into the coach now and git ! "

And we got.

But we were no longer the cheerful party we had
been. Outside we could hear Tommy swearing all
sorts of new and exuberant oaths, at himself, the com-
pany, the mules, the coach, and the road-agents. Inside,
not a word was spoken until the Judge, stooping
down, lifted into view the black skirt that the former
widow had worn. A sad smile stole over his face and
he whispered, mournfully :

" Boys, I'm reg'larly d— d ! "

To which the Colonel added a short postscript:

« It's just h— 1 ! "

III. ALA NASCAR AND HIS UNCLE.

It was a bright clear morning in early October, in
the year eighteen hundred and-I've-forgotten-exactly,
that I mounted my horse and started on a solitary
ride from Monmouth, Fremont County, Colorado,
to the new mining camp of Kirby, which lay in the
shadow of Mount Uncompahgre. The day before I
had purchased my mount, and by a dispensation of a
kindly Providence had secured an A 1 animal. So
at least the man I bought him of earnestly assured
me.

Said he : " Young feller, it's easy seen you aint no
tenderfoot, an' you know ezactly what you require in
the hoss line. Now, if you want a hoss that'll buck
an' tear 'round, Ms hoss won't suit you. Or if you're
lookin' for somethin' that'll jest take the bit in his-
teeth an' scoot till you can't see, an' pitch an' kick
till everythin's blue, why we can't trade — that's all.
This hoss aint that kind. If he's well took care of
though, you can ride him to Jerus'lem and back —
easy. He ain't wild ; he's jest strong."

Although I had no intention of going to Jerusalem at

that time, I purchased the horse. If he were capable

of making such a pilgrimage as that, I reasoned, he

must be a good animal, for are we not told that

c

42 ALANASCAK AND HIS UNCLE.

" Jordan is a hard road to travel " ? After the sale was
completed the dealer congratulated me on my choice.

" The moment I seen ye, I knowed what you
wanted," he said. " A reg'lar, sure 'miff boss, that's got
plenty of sand an' nothin' mean about him. An' there
he is ! Aint he a blamed little rustler ! I dunno what
my wife'll say to me lettin' him go. He's a genoine
pet ; reg'larly sets down to dinner with us sometimes."

The horse was fairly speedy, but neither handsome
nor intelligent, Still he was not particularly vicious,
and as long as we remained in sight of the town,
showed no signs of eccentricity, other than an un-
quenchable inclination to roll, without waiting for me
to dismount, and an embarrassing desire to taste my
legs. But so long as he didn't buck I overlooked
these faults. It was not until we had advanced several
miles on our journey that 'Rastus (I called him 'Rastus
because of his gentle disposition) first discovered to
me a gay little habit of shying, a most absurd trick
considering his age.

My saddle was of the Mexican pattern, with a high
cantle behind and a higher pommel in front. This
pommel was a sure safeguard for the integrity of my
neck in case of a stumble, but opened a long vista of
deadly perils to my viscera. Yet in spite of my fears,
or possibly because of them, 'Rastus neither stumbled
nor bucked, and although he several times shied half
across the State, I managed to keep him company. As
we advanced — generally sideways — 'Rastus developed
new peculiarities, before unsuspected. He had three
steps, which in a little while I was able to classify into

'RASTUS. 43

the waltz, polka and all promenade. He would start
with the waltz, glide gracefully into the polka, and
then evolve himself into the all promenade before I
realized he had started. He was infinite in his variety;
he seemed like an unfinished part of the Universe —
always in a period of transition. I have never yet
seen a fellow creature riding on a rail, but when I do
I shall know how to sympathize with him.

Thus I jogged — bumped is perhaps a better word —
along on my weary way. I was in light rig, carrying
no baggage besides a blanket, a Winchester carbine,
and a revolver, the weapons being more for effect than
use, as I had long before learned that a man is quite
as safe if he is unarmed as when he bristles with
breech-loaders.

Away we went, 'Rastus and I ; now we sidled, now
we backed ; one moment we waltzed and the next it
was all hands round in the grand chain. The ground
was still bare of snow, even at that altitude, and only
the summits of the mountain peaks were white ; the
rest of the land was brown and dry. The road was
plain and unmistakable, running south through the
mountains ; and now and then an opening in the wall
in front of me disclosed the snowy peak of Mt. Un-
<3ompahgre, that rose 14,235 feet in air. The ride to
Kirby was a rough one of sixty miles, through a coun-
try of wild beauty. On all sides were mountains,
some snow-covered, some plainly capped in decorous
brown. During the first hour I was fully occupied
in learning the 'individualities' of 'Rastus, for his
versatility in steps momentarily threatened to cripple
me for life ; but in time we arrived at sm understand*

44: ALANASCAR AND HIS UNCLE.

ing — either I became used to him or he began to tirer
and then we proceeded slowly and sedately.

It was about four in the afternoon that I reached
the top of a long ascent, steep, rocky and difficult, and
paused a moment to rest and look about. Before me
lay the narrow roadway, winding around the precip-
itous incline like a thread wound about an orange-
Down the slope of the hill, grew a few pines, scrub
and scanty. The sun was just resting on the spire of
some unnamed peak at my right, and it lit up with
sparkling brilliancy the snowy top of Uncompahgre,.
visible between the intervening crests. In the east
a blue haze wavered and trembled like the hot smoke
from some huge fire.

'Rastus had no dancing steps then ; no rhythmical
measures trod he, as he stood there on the summit,,
tired out, legs wide apart, tail drooping, and flanks heav-
ing as he sucked in the thin air. Seeing that my way
now led down hill and with a footing insecure for a
horse, I dismounted and proceeded on foot. We had
advanced in this way perhaps a mile, when turning a
corner around a huge rock 'Rastus gave a snort, in-
dicative of surprise, and looking up I beheld a stranger.
He was extremely meagre, lauterned-jawed and tall,,
with a very long and narrow face, and this appear-
ance was exaggerated by the tuft of dusty brown
whisker that hung from his chin. His dress was odd,
for he wore upon his head a torn and much battered
army-cap, that had once been blue, but was then of an
uncertain brown. He was clothed in a buckskin shirt,
its fringes tattered and ragged, breeches of the same,,
worn inside •normous boots, red with the accumulated

THE UNCLE. 45

mud of years, and on the right foot was strapped a
gigantic spur, silver-plated where the plating had not
worn off. His arms consisted of a battered cavalry
sabre, the scabbard indented and scratched, and a six-
shooter and cartridge belt, buckled loosely about his
waist. And then the horse ! Like his master, tall,
thin, sorrowful of visage, and tired. His front legs
were bent at the knees, as if his strength was hardly
•capable of sustaining his weight ; and a melancholy
drooping of his lower jaw was offset by a comical and
involuntary movement of his ears. Suspended from
the saddle-horn was a scabbard of ragged leather, from
which stuck out the butt of a carbine, while a pair of
well-filled saddle-bags were fastened to the cantle be-
hind. As I rounded the turn of the road, which was
there heavily shaded by pines, I came suddenly upon
these strange figures. The man stood by the horse's
side, resting his hand on the saddle and gazing into
the distance in silent contemplation. The instant he
perceived me, he made a lightning movement of his
right hand, and levelling a six-shooter cried :
" Halt ! Advance and give the countersign ! "
I was in a dilemma ; how could I halt and advance
too? Besides, I knew no countersign, and if I were
to guess and make a mistake I ran a risk. As I stood
there in chilly doubt, another person came forth out
-of the woods, leading a mule which he had evidently
been feeding, and laying his hand on the other's arm,
•checked him with a gesture.

The second man was in strange contrast to the first,
with his round, bullet head and broad, flat face, yet
wearing withal a look of good-natured shrewdness,

46 ALANASCAR AND HIS UNCLE.

considerably heightened by the merry light in his eyes-
and by a habit he had of, at times, slowly dropping
his left eye-lid in an irresistibly comical manner. This
wink was very expressive; he could graduate it to
anything. Sometimes he would close his eye entirely;,
sometimes there would be just the faintest tremor of
the lid ; but each had its own significance. His mule
was a tall, lank animal, carrying a huge Mexican sad-
dle, much the worse for wear, to which, as in the other
case, there were tied a pair of well-filled saddle-bags.

Not without some doubts of my new companions
did I accept the invitation of the younger to, " light
an' set awhile." I much preferred to ride on, but one-
can safely do things in the East he dare not try in
Colorado, and I reluctantly joined them. The tall
man paid no further attention to me, but stood rigid
and upright by his horse's head, and either would not
or could not hear me ; the younger was much interest-
ed in my past, present and future, and overwhelmed
me with questions. After a five-minutes stop I start-
ed on, for I had a long distance to go before dark and
a growing doubt of 'Rastus troubled me. As I made
ready, I saw the young man advance toward the tall
stranger and respectfully hold his stirrup for him to
mount ; and then he himself, with many groans and
infinite labor, climbed into his place on the mule and
followed after us. I was not altogether pleased with
my fellow travelers, but I could not u shake them."

We rode along the narrow path in single file, the
old man several hundred feet in advance; behind him
I came, with the fat squire in the rear, groaning and
puffing, and pounding his unshod heels into the flanks-

ALANASCAR. 47

of the mule in desperate efforts to keep up with the
cavalcade. Upon reaching the valley where the road
widened out, the squire, with some difficulty, urged
his mule into a trot, and rode to my side. He pulled
up abreast of me and with the comical droop of his left
eyelid, said abrubtly :

" Th' old man's a rum snoozer, ain't he ?

I nodded.

" Queer'n a unicorn ; leetle mite touched here, ye
know," he added, placing his finger just over his half
closed eye, " but square from the ground up. Oh !
cert'nly."

Then with his hand he described a circle in the air
just above the crown of his head, and leaning half
out of his saddle, whispered confidentially, nodding
toward the other : " Scalped ! He was ! Yes sir !
An' it's e-fected his hull nervous systum."

It was plainly true ; he looked like a seedy member
of that misguided and not too clean band, the Salva-
tion Army.

"Is your friend a religious enthusiast ? " I asked.

" Him ! the Guv'nor ! Well, I guess you aint never
heard him swear," he chuckled. " Oh ! yes ! he's a
religious enthoosiast with the bark on, he is ! No sir !
we're travelin' to do good" Then riding close to me,
he whispered, with the slightest possible wink: " 'Lixir
of Life, ye know ! two dollars a bottle or three for
five ; that's us ! See ? "

I endeavored to assume a look of intelligent ap-
preciation, but I must have failed, for my companion
went on :

48 ALANASCAR AND HIS UNCLE.

" Cures anythin' ye know, from biles to brain
fever, but is 'specially valooble in strengthnin' the
nerve functions of the systum. Behold ! The Guv'nor
is a living example of before usin'; me — after usin'.
If one bottle don't cure ye buy anotKer an' so on," and
my new friend again winked spasmodically, and slip-
ping his hands over his figure to call attention to its
rotundity, allowed an infectious smile to play about
the corners of his mouth. It was too much for me,
and I laughed outright.

" Was you ever up to Clay's Gulch ? " he asked,
after a short pause.

I admitted that I had been there — more or less.

"That's where I come from — Clay's Gulch," he said
cheerfully, as if delighted to find we had something in
common ; " though I was formally from Illinoy. Got
a second-cousin livin' in Chicago this minute ; name
of Reuben Stone — same name as me."

He bowed in, that graceful manner that always
marks the accomplished man of the world, and I ac-
knowledged the introduction by feebly imitating him.

u I aint allus been thus," he continued, evidently
referring to his pecuniary condition. " I used to live
up to Denver — th' metropulus of the Kockies an' so
forth — before I got unfortunate in bizness. That was
five year ago in June. I used to act there in the
slickest dime museum ever you did see — Mondays,
Wednesdays and Fridays as the Medicine Chief of the
Sioux Nation, and Tuesdays, Thursdays and Satur-
days as the Wild Man of Borneo, which was my
fav'rite character an' much cooler'n the Medicine
Chief, fur they kept the room warm 'count of the

OUE ENCAMPMENT. 49

Tatooed Man from Polynesy, an' the Medicine Chief
had to wear a buffalo skin, which made the pores
dreadful open an' liable to catch cold, interf erin' some
with the war whoop, though addin' to its gashlyness.
Oh ! I've seen life, I can tell you. Two dollars a day
/used to get."

We slowly advanced across the valley into which
the sun's rays had long ceased to penetrate, and the dull
gray light of evening enveloped us. We were still
many miles from the ranch where I had expected to
pass the night, and a glance at 'Rastus convinced me
that he was quite incapable of reaching there. I
did not relish the prospect of spending the night out
of doors, nor did I much care for the society of the
Medicine Chief of the Sioux Nation, but there was no
help for it, and so I suggested to him that we had better
stop at the first suitable place and camp for the night.
He agreed, and we rode on in the increasing darkness,
until we came to a small pine grove, at the edge of
which flowed a slender stream. Here we halted, but
the old man, who all this time had ridden in advance
of us, kept on. I pointed out this fact to the Medicine
Chief.

" Oh durn it, yes ! " he cried disgustedly ; " fire yer
gun at him ; he's deefer'n the deadly upas tree."

I accepted the comparison, although I was not then
aware that the upas was any harder of hearing than
many other varieties of trees ; but I declined to shoot
the old gentleman in order to attract his attention,
and the Wild Man was compelled to ride after him
and bring him back — a task not performed without
some difficulty.

50 AL ANA SCAR AND HIS UNCLE.

A fire was soon made, and after eating what was
left in our pouches — and it was very little — we pre-
pared for the night. I had previously unsaddled
'Rastus, watered him and picketed him where he could
feed on such grass as there was. I carried my saddle,
blanket and rifle down by the fire, and, building up a
huge blaze, wrapped myself up and waited for what
might come. My companions made a pile of their
accoutrements, carefully stowing the saddle-bags on
top of the heap, handling them very tenderly ; for they
were '"chuck full of 'Lixir," as Reuben assured me.
This done the old man went to sleep and we two lay
there silently smoking our pipes. In the woods
behind us we could hear our animals, munching the
leaves of the shrubs and occasionally stepping on some
dry twig that broke with a loud snap. The fire in
front glowed warm and bright, and the sap in the
green wood, made into steam by the heat, now and
then would burst with a loud report, and send the
embers flying, meteor-like, through the darkness. The
old man, completely buried in his blanket, was peace-
fully snoring at my right hand, while at my left lay
the Wild Man, flat on his back, a stubby pipe in his
mouth, and his right leg waving spasmodically in the
air, as he endeavored to interpose his foot between his
eyes and some of the darting flames that sprang up
from the fire. At length, for the sake of saying
something, I remarked :

" Your friend seems to be asleep ! "

" Friend ! " cried the Wild Man contemptuously,
rolling over on his right side so as to face me, " he
aint no friend! he's my uncle ! "

OLD JIM BAKKEE. 51

I hastily apologized for my mistake, and a short
silence ensued, at last broken by my companion.

" When you was up to Clay's Gulch last time, did
you hear anythin' how old Jim Barker was cominy
on ? " he asked hesitatingly. " Him that owns th'
'Hard Heart' mine and th' grocery story, I mean.
Does th' claim seem to be openin' up pretty mid-
dlin'rich?"

I informed him that, according to all reports, old
Jim Barker was in a very prosperous financial condi-
tion. Reuben sighed wearily ; he was plainly grow-
ing nervous as we talked, for he puffed with increas-
ing rapidity on his pipe, and allowed his foot to wander
along paths of puzzling eccentricity. From where I
lay, his boot looked like a tremendous black comet,
wheeling along an epicycloidal orbit, across a red sky.
His attitude at this moment, indicated deep and
troubled thought, from which he at length roused
himself to say emphatically :

" I consider that old Jim Barker is a dog-gone
mean rooster, sir. He never had another dollar till he*
struck the 'Hard Heart' claim— grub-staked a man
for it, ye know — an' now he swears that any feller
that gits Miss Car'line Barker — his daughter, ye know
— hez got to size his pile. It aint a square play, but
I know a likely young feller that holds the joker over
him, and when the time comes, sir — ' Here he stayed
his foot suddenly in its orbit, and winking a wink of
tremendous meaning whispered : — " We're engaged ! "
and instantly relapsed into gloomy silence, leaving
me in doubt, at first, whether he referred to Jim or
to Miss O&r'line.

-52 ALANASCAR AND HIS UNCLE.

" But I tell you, pardner," he said, at length, " I
propose to e-quire the hand of Miss Car'line, in spite
of unjust conditions. Me an' th' Guv'nor there,
we've got th' slickest little thing in them saddle-bags
•ever you did see. Beats minin', for there aint no
risks ; it's dead sure an' all profit."

" What is it ?" I asked.

" Why, that 'Lixir I was mentionin' to you just now.
It's the blamedest thing fur a weak intelleck you ever
did see. Try it and see for yourself. It's simply
rattlin' brain food, blamed if 'taint."

" What is it made of ? " I innocently asked.

Reuben slowly closed his left eye quite shut, and
thrust his tongue into his cheek, as if to intimate that
he was not entirely green, not at that moment cer-
tainly.

" Well, you see that's a secret," he chuckled, "but
I don't mind tellin' you that there's f ossiforus,a couple
of ingredients, an' consid'able whiskey in it. Them
two ingredients gives it range ; the fossiforus is brain
food an' the whiskey is good for everythin' else.
Powerful scope it has ; old man's invention."

" Well," said I, "if it is so good for the brain why
•doesn't the old man try it himself ? "

" Hush ! " he said. " I'm tumble afraid he will
;some day. Wouldn't do though ; he aint got the con-
stitution to stan' it. No sir ! We're sellin' this 'Lixir
fur two dollars a bottle, three fur five. Them saddle-
bags contain over three hunderd bottles, an' I cal'late
we shall hev quite a bunch of money when they're gone.
Then we'll begin again an' double up an' So on, and

BY AND BY. 53-

blame me if in a year we aint rollin' in money. Then
look out for Car'line. Still it's a tumble feelin', this
knowin' you can't get her short of jest so many dollars.
It ketches me at times right plumb here," and he laid
his hand tenderly on that part of his chunky frame
known in popular anatomy as the bread-basket, and
sighed wearily.

" But Car'line aint a bit like th' old man. No sir !.
she takes after her ma. Oh ! she's all right an' solid
for yours truly, you can just bet," he continued hope-
fully. " Besides, old Barker may die some day ; he's
got the asthmy bad. An' when we're spliced we'll
enjoy life. No tendin' fires or cookin' or washin7
dishes then ; no sir ! Two kinds of meat fur dinner —
the ushill vegetables, in course — an' pie as a wind up.
Expensive, I'll allow, but what's the use o' scrimpin.'
They'll be three or four wimmen to look after th&
childern with hot an' cold water in every room, an7"
every p. m. I an' Car'line we'll take our little pasear
in the park fur our healths an' go to the opry in th''
evenin'."

" But suppose old Barker objects or Car'line changes
her mind," I suggested warningly.

He held his foot quite still an instant and looked at
me in surprise.

" Object ! " he exclaimed, "how can he object when
he sees my pile? He'll be glad enough, an' as fur
Car'line you aint never seen I an' her together. No
sir, the 'tachment is mutual. An' besides, a couple o'
million dollars aint to be sneezed at, off-hand, I kin
tell you, not these times.

" The way we sells it is this," he said, changing the-

•54: ALANASCAK AND HIS UNCLE.

direction of his talk. " You see, the Guv'nor there is
—so to speak — oddish, and of a tigger that attracts at-
tention. "Well, that's the dodge. We go up to some
minin' camp where there's lots o' money, an' we ride
up and down, the Guv'nor on his hoss and his sword
drawd, an' me on my mule, carryin' a banner sayin':
* Try 'Lixir of Life fur the Nerves,' an' so on, an' the
thing bein' new an' catchy we sells our stock. There's
most usually a lot of men up to the camps what drink
mighty free, an' bein' badly broke up, and havin' that
tired f eelin' an' sense of goneness as per full directions
on th' label, they'll buy a bottle to try, an' it tastin'
like whiskey an' bein' medicine besides, they'll usually
buy two. Then we skip, an' when we get back there,
six months after, and the men what bought th' 'Lixir
first-time bein^ all of 'em dead, an' th' others havin'

O

forgot about it, why we sells some more an' so forth.
That's our little game, an' I cal'late after this trip we'll
start an outfit. We've got our hull fortune in them
saddle-bags, but we're goin' to make a big thing.
Double our money every time."

The fire by this time had burned low, and my com-
panion got up to replenish it. The night was perfect
for that time of year, calm, clear and cold. So bril-
liant were the stars that they seemed almost within
reach, and the Milky "Way lay like a broad white cestus
on the dark background of the sky. There was no
moon, and save where the fire lit up the scene, every-
thing was in absolute darkness. Eeuben, having heaped
up a huge pile of green fir boughs upon the fire,
resumed his place by me and proceeded with his story.

" I aint just rightly decided yet where we'll live

ADVANTAGES OF NEW YOEK. 55

when we're married," he said. " I'm thinkin' some of
Denver, but they is objections to it, an' I dnnno 's
Car'line would be best suited there anyhow. I reckon
New York's the place after all. I aint never been
there myself, but I'm pretty sure it's th' place. When
a man's got money he should live up to it — that's my
idee — an' it bein' the money centre they is nachally
more chances for investment there. A man don't
want his hull pile in one thing, you know. A few hun-
derd thousan' in stocks, the same in some good bonds —
never mind the intrust so long's the security is there —
say fifty thousan' in the bank for runnin' expenses an'
a 'casional ftyer, an' then let whatever you please
stay right here in this 'Lixir bizness, fur it's a sure
thing. Aint that 'bout right ? "

It seemed to me it was just right.

" Yes, I reckon N Y is the place. Car'line can do
her shoppin' an' rustle round in great style. One of
the childern '11 be sickly of course, an' we must have
the best doctors in the country, an' the others'll need
to be eddicated. Of course we'll have a country house
fur summer an' when the childern git older we'll buy
'em a yacht, an' go moseyin' off, say 'round the
world. Aint that about the right idee ? "

Again I had to admit that iti was.

" A man can live in good shape in N Y if he
knows how. I'll sit down with a nigger waiter fur
breakfast. Then I'll mosey off in my private coup to
the bank, an' the president '11 say: f Good mornin', Mr.
Stone ! what can I do for you' an' then I'll say : 1 1
want maybe fifty thousan', maybe a hunderd', an'
then he'll say : ' Oh certainly ! Cashier, just let Mr.

56 ALANASCAR AND HIS UNCLE.

Stone hev whatever he wants an' take his word for
it.' Then I'll just roll it up an' stick it in my pocket
an' off again, an' double my money before dinner. I
tell you money makes money every time, an' it's just
as easy. An' when old Jim Barker busts up — an' he
will, sure — I'll just put him on an allowance — an' you
bet it'll be blamed small, an' I'll make him rustle for
it, too."

At this moment Reuben was interrupted by a noise
in the woods back of us ; the horses were evidently
badly frightened — probably by a black bear or moun-
tain lion — and they stampeded wildly towards the fire.
Before we could jump to our feet they were within
the circle of light, trembling and snorting violently.
After them came the terrified mule ; slower and
half blind, it blundered stupidly into the pile of sad-
dles and fell heavily upon them. There was a muf-
fled crash, and Reuben sprang forward with a cry of
dismay, while the mule, frantic with fear, entangled
in the straps and unable to rise, kicked and tore the
saddles and saddle-bags to pieces, and the " boss brain
food " poured out upon the dry earth.

Reuben was overwhelmed at first with the extent
of his misfortune. " Our hull stock in trade is ruin-
ed ! " he moaned. " Farewell forever, Car'line ! fare
thee well ! " But in a few moments he regained his
composure and began to look at the situation more
philosophically.

" P'raps we can fix it up some way," he said hope-
fully. " Maybe Car'line '11 hev to wajt a spell longer,
but Lord! she don't mind; she's just that kind.
Never say die ! Fossiforous is cheap an' this kind o'

NEXT MORNING. 57

whiskey aint so very high neither, an' as for th' in-
gredients we can omit them. I guess it'll come out
all right."

During all the excitement the Guv'nor slept, never
stirring, and tired out I too soon dropped off. The last
thing I saw was Reuben, seated in meditative solitude
before the fire, into which he was absent-mindedly
tossing bits of bark, and repeating to himself : " Yes
sir, that's just the kind Car'line is ; fossiforous is cheap
an' we'll omit the ingredients."

When I awoke it was broad daylight ; the sun was
shining brightly ; the air was cold, and the ground
covered with a white frost. I looked about me
in vain for my companions. Both the Guv'nor and
Reuben had stolen away like the Arabs, and
with them had gone 'Rastus. In his place stood the
dissipated, one-eyed mule, weary and desolate of ap-
pearance. My saddle, which I had used as a pillow,
together with my arms and blanket remained un-
touched, but 'Rastus, light of my life, was gone forever.

In the dead gray ashes of last night's fire was a
small bottle wrapped up in a bit of brown paper, on
which was written these words :

Deer sir mak you a present of som of our stok in trade all they
is lef if yure nurv aint stiddy in morn try it take carr of the muel
hese yurn frely we got to rassel for mor capitul it beets hell how
hard times is good by Ruben.

IV. THE ASCENT OF UNCOMPAHGRE.

Eight thousand feet above us shone the glistening,
snowy summit of Uncompahgre, a giant dome of
white, that here and there the refracted light of
the rising sun, just sleepily crawling out of bed, col-
ored pale red or yellow. The darkness of the night
just past still lingered in the west, while in the east
the sky was blazing with the morning. High above
its surroundings towered Uncompahgre, with never a
consort in sight, though round about, in every direc-
iton, were the lesser peaks that made up a part of the
great mountain system.

There were four in our party, and we were about to
do the impossible ; to make the ascent of the moun-
tain in January — a feat no one had ever accomplished.
Or to be quite accurate — no one had ever made the
descent at that season. A year before, a prospector
named Forsyth, against the advice of every one, had
started to climb to the summit. That he was suc-
cessful was proved by finding him, seven months
after, at the bottom of a twenty foot snow drift, a few
rods from the top. He was quite dead. It was this
little circumstance that troubled me. There would be
no particular satisfaction in ascending the mountain if
I could not get down again. In fact, as I looked

(58)

OUR EQUIPMENT. 59

at it, quite half the pleasure in mountain-climbing
is the getting down — safely.

We left Kirby at sunrise on the morning of Janu-
ary 12th. There had been a heavy fall of snow the
day before, which had rendered all trails impassable.
We therefore had to seek a new route. Our party
consisted of four, namely, two brothers, — Jim and
Bill Russell — natives of the State, strong, active and
skilled in mountain climbing, learned in many years
experience as prospectors. The third member was
Robert Dawson, a young mining engineer, and the
superintendent of the Pay Rock mine at Kirby. The
fourth was myself. The storm which for three days
had raged about the mountain was over, and the weather
was bright and clear and even mild, for that altitude.
We were warmly dressed in heavy woolen clothing,
wore stout walking shoes, shod with hobnails, and
•carried, strapped to our shoulders, knapsack fashion,
small packs weighing about fifteen pounds each. In
them we stowed an aneroid barometer, a registering
thermometer, provisions consisting of dried beef and
biscuit, and a blanket. In addition to this, each man
carried a staff, a pair of snow-shoes and a coil of strong
rope, about thirty feet long, .wound over the left
•shoulder and under the right arm, in such a man-
ner as to leave the arms comparatively free. It can
be seen that our load was neither light nor easy, but
we traveled with as little as we dared.

A short distance out of the camp we entered the
blind canyon of Oknee; Bill was in advance, Bob
Dawson and I followed, while Jim brought up the
rear. The chasm was narrow and bounded on either

. 60 THE ASCENT OF UNCOMPAHGKE.

side by abrupt walls of gray rock, here and there en-
livened by spots of snow or bunches of fir apparently
growing out of the solid stone. Occasionally, as the
gorge turned to the right or left, we could see the
Peak, glowing like a gilded spire in the early morning
sunlight. For an hour our way led us up this canyon,
and our progress was quite rapid, there being no ob-
struction but the snow, which was there covered with a
crust sufficiently strong to bear us. At last we entered
a long, narrow amphitheatre, the upper end being
blocked by perpendicular walls of rock, rising sheer
five' hundred feet, while the lower end through which
we had entered seemed closed by the interlocking
scarps of the gorge. Except for the musical trickle
of the snow water and the occasional crash of some mass
of rock, heaved from its place by the frost, we heard
no sound save our own labored breathing, made diffi-
cult by the thin air of our great attitude of 12,500 feet
above the tides.

A short rest here and then we proceeded to devise
means of escape. The walls that encompassed us
seemed impregnable ; at first we could perceive but
one exit and that by the way we had come. But as
we approached the upper left-hand corner of the
chamber, we saw what in the dim light we had be-
fore overlooked ; that was a series of niches in the
otherwise smooth cliff. No regular steps, nor indeed
an incline, but six or seven shelves in the face of the
rock, which had been made by the decrepitation of the
stone. It was a very dubious pathway, narrow and
sloping away from the cliff so as to make the footing
very insecure, but it seemed practicable.

OUT OF THE CANYON. 61

We soon had our preparations completed. The first
shelf 'was about twelve feet above our heads — quite
beyond reach — and there were no crevices or projec-
tions in the rock to aid us in climbing. Forming a
three-sided pyramid by standing close together and
locking arms, Bill, being the lightest, mounted upon
our shoulders. From here he could easily reach the
shelf. Getting as firm a hold of it as he could, he
gave a spring that sent us staggering away, and left
him hanging in the air. Then with a quick, power-
ful effort he threw himself up upon the ledge. Once
there, he passed the noose of the rope he had
taken up with him over a point of rock, and
lowered the other end to us. With this rope
he drew up our packs and we finally followed
him. The next shelf was but ten feet above us, and
the next but eight feet above that, and these distances
we easily passed. But from there on the way seemed
•closed, for above us rose a smooth wall, fully seventy-
five feet, unbroken by any crack or projection. The
narrow ledge on which we stood hardly gave us a
footing, and any unguarded movement on our part
would certainly have resulted in throwing us over the
-edge. After a short survey of the situation Jim took
three ropes and carefully knotting them together, lean-
ed far out over the ledge, sustained in his position by
our united weights, we having hold of his arm. He
swung the long noose twice about his head and then,
by a powerful effort, shot it up into the air. It fell
short of the shelf nearly ten feet, and dropped back
into the gulf, detaching as it went a shower of loose
fragments. Again and again he tried this. The

62 THE ASCENT OF UNCOMPAHGRE.

third time the rope landed on the ledge but did not
catch, and it was not until the seventh cast that he was-
successful ; then the noose settled down over a pro-
jection in the rock and held fast. Up this rope start-
ed Bill and a moment later a shout from him apprised
us of his safety. Then our packs followed, and
lastly we. I went first and it was a long and hard
climb. I continually bumped against the rocks, bruis-
ing my hands and body. Halfway up I stopped to-
rest — out of breath. It was an exciting moment..
Above me, thirty feet, was the shelf on which Bill
stood ; far below me was the dark gorge. Curiously
enough, at this time, hanging as I was on a slender,,
insecurely fastened rope, I was not in the least nerv-
ous, and I surveyed the scene about me almost wTith
pleasure. A moment only I paused ; then went on
again and soon stood on the rock by Bill's side. Bob
and Jim followed me, and once more we were grouped
together. From this point up the climbing was less-
difficult ; it was like ascending some very steep incline..
Bill would go ahead, hanging to the rocks, like a fly,
with his toes and fingers, until he reached some rest-
ing place where he could contrive to attach a rope,
when we all followed, carrying the packs and steady-
ing ourselves by the cord. In this way, after two-
hours of hard work, we reached the top and turned to-
look back into the crevasse out of which we had just
emerged.

It was nearly a thousand feet to the bottom and
not altogether a pleasant prospect. But around and
above us the sight was grand. Down the side
at our left stretched the mountain slope, until it

THE SCENE. 63

blended with the foothills that rose here and
there like gigantic waves. The buildings in Kirby
were distinctly visible, and we could see even the
people in the street. Above us stood the ever-pres-
ent peak, white and sparkling. The view was unde-
niably magnificent, and I turned to Bob.

"Isn't it superb?" I asked in a whisper.

" Possibly," he answered indifferently ; " but take
away the mountains and it wouldn't amount to much."

I turned away impatiently ; he was a Philistine.

Another short rest and we started ahead. At first
the climbing was easy ; the snow was still covered
with a crust that supported us, and we advanced
rapidly up the steep and rocky incline. We were
congratulating ourselves on our great progress when
our way was suddenly stopped by a crevasse, about
fifty feet wide, but of vast depth. It extended to
our right and left a long distance, and a short survey
convinced us that we could not go around it ; we must
cross it. The question was how, and we sat down in
the snow to rest and consult. A barometrical obser-
vation showed our elevation to be 13,700 feet, and the
exceedingly rarefied air made our breathing very
painful.

" How deep d'ye call this, offhand ? " asked Bill of
his brother.

" Wai," said Jim, slowly closing one eye and as-
suming an air of calculation, " I guess 't 's 'bout two
thousan' feet, more or less; it's quite a drop."

It was plainly impossible to climb down it and up
the other side. Cautiously crawling to the edge we
looked over. The walls of the canyon went down

64 THE ASCENT OF UNCOMPAHGRE.

without a break ; worse than that, the opposite side
slanted back from the top, so that the ascent would be
extra hazardous ; very much like climbing up the side
of a house and getting over the eaves.

" We might chuck a rope across,'' said Bill, "and
get over onto that. How far kin you throw, Jim ? "

Jim closed his left eye again, took a survey of the
scene and making a rapid mental calculation said : " I
reckon I kin do it."

Taking the four lengths of rope we had brought, he
carefully knotted them together again and coiling up
the slack loosely, stepped to the edge of the precipice,
carrying the large noose in his right hand. With his
eye he carefully estimated the distance to a small
boulder that was perched upon the opposite side of
the crevasse. Then he slowly swung the loop
about his head, opening it out into a circle by a
peculiar twist of his hand. Again and again did the
rope weave about his head, until at last he sent it fly-
ing through the air across the gulf. The first and
second throws were failures— the noose missed the
boulder ; but the third time it settled down over the
rock and held fast, our united weights being unable
to move it. We then secured the end we held to a
jagged spike of stone that stuck up near the edge
and our bridge was done. Over this frail pathway of
a single rope, knotted and chafed, we must go. It
certainly seemed like flying in the face of a previously
beneficent Providence, but we had gone too far to
turn back ; besides, we were afraid to.

Our knapsacks had become exceedingly annoying,
and chafed our shoulders painfully; but we could not

THE BRIDGE. 65

leave them, as we should certainly need our provisions
and blankets, so we secured them again in place
in such a way as to leave our arms tolerably free,
and made ready for the crossing.

Jim went first : he claimed this privilege, saying
the bridge was his — and he was going — anyhow. We
let him ; it is always best to defer to others in little
matters of this kind. Besides the rope might break.
We watched him carefully let himself over the edge
of the cliff and then, grasping the cord over his head,
saw him make his way across — hand over hand. It
took less than a minute for him to reach the other
side, yet it seemed an hour to us. Bob went next, and
he went in good style, never looking down, but
straight ahead. Midway in the passage he stopped to
rest. It was a moment of great anxiety to all of us.
The strain on the rope was tremendous ; as he hung
there in the middle, his weight of 160 pounds stretched
the cord dangerously. I momentarily expected to
hear it snap, and to see him sent flying into the depths
below. But it held and he reached the other side in
safety.

Then it was my turn, and as I stepped to the edge,
Bill called to me :

" Look here," he said, " just throw your weight ez
light ez ye kin onto th' rope, f er it's beginnin' to chafe."

I examined it and found that where it touched the
rock it had been worn so much as seriously to impair
its strength.

"I reckon it'll go all right," said Bill, "if you're
careful ; anyhow 'twont break 'fore ye git to the
middle."

66 THE ASCENT OF UNCOMPAHGKE.

This was not eminently reassuring. There was but
very little satisfaction in knowing that it would
not break until I was in the very centre, and I drew
a lightning picture of myself, hanging in mid air, to a
thread ; then I saw myself striking on the jagged
rocks beneath, and so lifelike was the sketch that
I could actually hear the unresilient thud I made.
It was very realistic but— disagreeable. My reverie
was interrupted by William, who inquired facetiously :

" Wai, what ye cipherin' on now. Warnt thinkin'
of jumpin' it, was ye? "

I carefully wrapped my handkerchief about the
rope where it was chafed and started. Again I wa&
surprised and pleased to find how cool I was ; all my
fears had been anticipatory ; my nerves were firmer
than when I stood on the rock. I took great pains
not to jar or strain the rope unnecessarily, and I never
felt lighter in my life. A third of the way across I
stopped, and threw my left leg over the rope to re-
move the strain on my arms. The scene around me
was a wild one. Below, many hundred feet, yawned
the black chasm, its bottom only visible here and
there, where the sunlight penetrated it. A moment
sufficed to rest me and I went on. When I reached
the middle, the rope sagged perilously, and it seemed
as if I could feel the strands parting. I shut my eyes
and hurried over the dangerous spot. I passed it
safely, and then began the ascent. This was compar-
atively easy, for though it was up-hill, I knew the
worst was over and that I was secure. Another in-
instant and I was standing by Dawson and Jim.

Bill followed me and being much the lightest of the

SNOW-SHOES. 6T

party, got over safely, although one strand of the rope
parted as he passed the centre. The next question
was, how to loosen the further end of our bridge, and
this was quickly settled. We all laid hold of the rope
and with a "yo ! heave ho ! " fairly broke it off where
it had worn thin.

Before going further we ate our lunch of pemmi-
can and biscuit, and took a short rest. But it was a
very short one, for we were still nearly a thousand
feet from the top, and our time was limited. The
snow over which our way now lay had become too
soft to walk on safely, and we had to resort to snow-
shoes.

Any one who has ever worn these conveniences re-
members his first experience. I do mine. To begin
with, the shoes are unnecessarily long and many times-
too wide. It is absolutely impossible to walk in them
in the ordinary manner, or rather, it is impossible to
take more than one step in that way. The most in-
experienced can always take one step, and if he stops
there is all right. Unlike so many things in this life,
in snow-shoeing it is the second step that counts. For
you step on your heels ; you step on your toes ; you step
on everything but the snow, and you end finally by
standing on your head and wildly trying, feet in air, to
step on the galaxy above. Few succeed in this however,
and only these who are suffocated in the drifts and as-
cend the golden staircase. I wonder if they still wear
their snow-shoes or depend on their wings. And if
wings then why is the staircase — but I wander.

Fortunately for the success of our expedition we
had all had some experience with snow-shoes, and

68 THE ASCENT OF UNCOMPAHGRE.

could walk in them with tolerable ease, so in a few
minutes we were on our way again. Our path led
over an immense snow field, on which a hard crust
had formed the night before, but which the sun had
now so softened as to render walking without snow-
shoes impossible. The field was of immense depth,
of glacial formation, being plainly part of the ice field
that formed one wall of the mountain. During the
summer the hot sun melts the snow and ice, and the
streams thus created dig for themselves channels in
the glacial fields in exactly the same manner that the
mountain torrents have ploughed the deep canyons
through the rocks.

These channels are generally narrow but very deep,
and when the frost comes, it hardens the ice walls and
fixes them immovably. These fields are also pierced
by many small shafts, unusually made in this way.
Some dark-colored object, a leaf or a stone perhaps,
falls upon the snow. Because of its color it absorbs
great quantities of heat, which the white snow reflects,
and so the stone sinks rapidly below the surface. A
shaft is thus bored into the ice field and often extends
many feet down. In this manner the glaciers be-
come seamed and honeycombed by these narrow, deep
openings over which, in winter, the snow drifts, form-
ing bridges, often too slender to more than support
their own weights, yet which effectually conceal the
dangerous pitfalls beneath. In order to avoid plung-
ing into one of these abysses, we tied ourselves to-
gether with our ropes. Jim again took the lead, I
came second, then Dawson, and Bill last. The cord

DANGEROUS ICE FIELDS. 69

was securely knotted under our arms, with a space of
about twenty feet separating us.

We proceeded very cautiously, yet as rapidly as
possible, for we still ha\l a long distance to traverse
and many obstacles to overcome. Our way up the
slope was at a slight incline, and we advanced about
a mile and a half without accident. We were often
made aware of our peril by hearing our footsteps re-
verberate with a muffled echo as we crossed some frail
snow arch that spanned an abyss. Once Bill, striking
the iron point of his staif sharply into the crust, saw it
disappear from his sight as he relaxed his hold on it.
It had pierced the snow and fallen into the cavern
beneath. It was interesting to note the celerity with
which we hastened forward just then ; we seemed to
be actuated by a common impulse — particularly Bill.

All at once — without warning — I felt, a sharp tug
on the rope, that nearly threw me backwards; then a
shout, followed by the rush and roar as of an avalanche.
Had there been any slack between Jim and myself I
should certainly have been pulled down, but the rope
being taut, I managed, with the help of his great
weight and strength, to maintain my position and half
turn around. I found I was standing on the extreme
edge of a crevasse, into which Dawson and Bill had
been thrown by the breaking of the snow bridge that
had carried Jim and myself safely over. They were
sustained only by the rope, and Bill, as he swung up
against the wall of the cut, must have been badly
bruised. It was fortunate for all of us that they were
light and we heavy, else we should have been pulled
into the pit with them. As it was, our position was

70 THE ASCENT OF UNCOMPAHGKE.

serious enough. By careful maneuvering we con-
trived to work the rope into a Y shape crack on the
edge of the precipice and wedging it there were thus
enabled partially to remove the strain upon our breasts.
•Still we dared not move, and we were obliged to
maintain a rigid position, straining every muscle to
prevent being drawn over the edge. Our snow-shoes
-complicated the matter, for because of them we could
get no grip on the snow. Standing where I did I
could look straight down into the gulf. The green,
icy walls looked unpleasantly cool where the sun-
light touched them, but most of the cavern was in
rsemi-darkness. It was a fascinating sight and one I
gazed at earnestly, until I was aroused by Dawson,
his voice sounding strangely sonorous, backed by the
•echoes. u Whenever you get tired boys, we're ready to
change ends," he said.

We were tired already, but not able to change, for
an unguarded movement, a slip, and we should all go
into the pit together. I leaned over slightly, and en-
deavoring to assume a jesting tone, said :

" This place looks like the mouth of a hole, boys."
" / reckon we'll find it the mouth of h — 1 if any-
thing happens to that rope," said Bill profanely.
" Well, hang on ! " I said, " hang on ! "
A smothered laugh came from Dawson. u Thanks,
dear boys," he said, " but the advice is quite unneces-
sary ; you are the ones to hang on ; we can't let go if
we tried."

All this happened in much less time than it takes
to tell it, and the two men had not been in the hole a
minute before we were working to release them. By

IN THE CREVASSE. 71

throwing his weight heavily on the rope, Jiiri
managed to get down upon his knees, and with the
utmost difficulty removed his snow-shoes, so tha.t
his spiked soles gave him a better hold on the ice.
Then I contrived to do the same, and we were ready.
What made our task so difficult was the fact that the
two men were securely tied fastened together, and so
we had to raise them both at once. This our strength
was unequal to, for while we could maintain them
where they were, being aided by the friction of the
rope against the rocks, the same friction worked
equally against our efforts to pull them up. We
made several desperate attempts to do this, but were
obliged to desist, lest we should wear the rope.

" Don't hurry yourselves, gentlemen," said Dawson
from below ; "not the slightest good in hurrying, but
I should like to get out sometime this month. I have
an engagement on the 27th and to-day is the 12th."

Jim began to grow excited. " Hang on ! boy, hang
on ! " he shouted.

" Dear Jim," said Dawson, plaintively, a have we
not assured you that we could not let go ? We're tied !
We cannot slip unless you do, but we're slowly freez-
ing to death. A few short hours and all will be over."

A chuckle from Bill showed that he was alive at
any rate.

" Bill ! " shouted Jim, " can't you ontie yourself an'
come up the rope ? "

" I've been tryin' to all this time, but the durned
galoot that tied this rope made such a cussed knot in it
I can't."

4 2i THE ASCENT OF UXCOMPAHGKE.

" Oh ! the ingratitude of man ; " said Bob. " I my-
self well and truly tied that knot and now I am called
a galoot. William, you're another. Cut it ! "

" Yes, I guess I will ; here goes ; look out." There
was quiet for a few seconds, followed by jerks and
fierce pulls on the rope ; then we heard Bob's voice?
saying: "Excuse me, Bill, but if you could take
your left snow-shoe out of my eye I should feel
duly grateful. It seems to impair my sight a trifle."

Then came a half laugh from Bill and the next in-
stant his head appeared above the edge of the cliff,
and he stood by my side, looking as cool and
calm as ever. He still wore his snow shoes which he
had been unable to remove without losing, and which
had occasioned Bob's remonstrance. He quickly
kicked these off and joined us upon the rope. The
weight was now largely on our side so that we were
easily able to pull up Dawson^and once more we stood
together.

We had little time to waste however ; it was nearly
four o'clock ; the sun was just touching the mountain
tops ; the air was rapidly becoming colder and the light
was fading. We saw we could never reach the sum-
mit that night and our object then was to make our-
selves as comfortable as possible. Even as we spoke
the sun was gone ; the mountain summit looked bare
and cold ; a biting chill swept over us. The night
had come. We hurried on to find a place to camp.
There was very much less danger now of breaking
through the crust, for the strong hand of frost had
strengthened all the snow bridges. We found a place

ABOVE TIMBER BELOW ZEEO. 73

that was sheltered, and went into camp there.

I have never passed such another night in all my life.
The cold was intense ; we were without any fire, with
only some rocks to keep the wind off and but one light
blanket apiece. Before lying down we set the regis-
tering thermometer and read the barometer. The
temperature was 4° Far. above zero ; the barometer
indicated an altitude of 13,820 feet.

We had all we could do that night to keep from
freezing, but we contrived it some way. We did not
dare go to sleep, and we passed the time keeping
each other awake. It was a wonder we did not freeze
our hands or feet. Morning came at last and found
us worn out, cold and stiff. In our scrambles of the
day before we had pounded ourselves considerably,
and the cold served to develop these bruises until we
ached all over. At daylight the mercury showed a
temperature of 12° below zero. We ate a meagre
breakfast of biscuit and pemmican and drank a little
whiskey. Hot tea we knew was much better than
spirits at such a time, but there was an insuperable ob-
jection to tea then — we didn't have any. After
breakfast we approached the final obstacle. This
presented tremendous difficulties, seemingly insur-
mountable, but we had gone too far to turn back, short
of complete success.

We found ourselves standing at the foot of a wall
of stone, forming the sides of a rocky cylinder, which
made the cap or crown of the mountain peak. The
wall was fully sixty feet high at its lowest point, and

74 THE ASCENT OF TJNCOMPAHGKE.

to reach the summit we must scale this cylinder. This
we did as the day before we had ascended the side of
the canyon, that is, by casting a noose over a point of
rock and then going up the rope, hand over hand ; and
at exactly four minutes past ten o'clock, on the morn-
ing of the thirteenth day of January, we stood on the
.apex of Uncompahgre and looked about us.

The scene was one of indescribable grandeur ; we
Tvere surrounded by the Kolling Kockies, but rocky
then in name only, for everything was softened and
whitened by the snow. Below us were the mountain
slopes, rising in graceful curves until they could rise
no further and the mountain peaks were formed. I
have watched the sea during a storm, and the appear-
ance of the waves at that time, as seen from the main-
topsail yard, was wonderfully like the sight we looked
down upon from the summit of Uncompahgre. The
yeasty foam that covered the crests of the waves
made them white as snow, and in the south we saw
the peaks of Wilson and Lamborn, looking like two dis-
masted wrecks. For miles and miles about us stretched
the mountains, rising up and up, until the white out-
lines of their summits blended with and were lost in
the clouds they pierced. The bright morning sun
shone on the ocean of frozen billows beneath us, and
added to the strangeness of everything, for while the
eastern slopes were sparkling in the yellow light, the
western sides were still shrouded in dusk. A sense of
remoteness came over me as I stood there ; I felt like
the Last Man. " What countless ages it has taken to

MEDITATION. 75

get this world into its present condition," I thought,

•" and how many more will it be before "

" Look ahere ! " said Bill, rudely interrupting my
reverie ; " you look as if you was thinkin' of buyin'
the hull bloomin' universe. What do you call it wuth,
now ? "

V. THE DESCENT OF UNCOMPAHGRE.

After making observations with the barometer
and determining the altitude to be 14,226 feet, we pre-
pared to make the descent. A careful examination of
our rope disclosed that it had become very much worn
and shortened. It would be necessary to use it with
extreme care. But the greatest difficulty that pre-
sented itself was how to detach the cord after we had
all descended to the slope beneath. Various plans
were proposed and rejected as impracticable, and after
an hour's fruitless talk, we were forced to the painful
conclusion that one of our party must be left behind
to cast off the noose. The certainty that this was
unavoidable was very depressing.

Then arose the interesting question : " Who should
stay ? " and we decided this by lot. I tore four leaves
out of my note book, and on three wrote " Go" and on
the other "Stay" I folded them up into exactly
similar pellets, and buried them deep in a snow-
drift. Simultaneously, we all inserted our hands into
the snow, and groping about, each brought out his
paper. I never shall forget the look of dread that
overspread the faces of my companions as they pro-
ceeded to read their fate. Bob looked at his slip and
his face lit up as he read, " Go ! " Bill nervously tore

(76)

DESERTED. 77

his as he opened it and fairly shouted as he saw he
was safe. As for phlegmatic Jim, when he heard the
others announce their luck he turned coolly to me and
said : " It's even chance 'twixt me an' you, boy. I
aint looked at mine nor you at yours ; how'll ye
trade, sight unseen, just fur luck ? "

It seemed absolutely ghastly to jest at such a time,
but I handed him my unopened sheet, and looking at
the one he gave me I saw, " Stay ! " Like a fool I
had given away my life.

Our leave-taking was short. My companions warm-
ly pressed my hand, and promised to return at once
to rny rescue. Bob said, with the tears in his eyes :

" Good-bye, old fellow, good-bye ! Keep up>
won't you?" (This was rubbing it in a little, I
thought ; I couldn't help keeping up.) u I'd never leave
you in the world if I weren't sure I should see you to-
morrow. You've got provisions and blankets, and you
can amuse yourself with the barometer and thermome-
ter. Good-bye ! God bless youj" and he was over
the cliff before I could say a word. So were the
others, »and in a minute more I heard them calling out
to me, at the base of the rock, to cast off the rope.
Mechanically I did so, and as I looked down upon
them Bob sang out cheerily, " Keep up, old man ;
I'll be up to-morrow," but I heard him indis-
tinctly.

My companions had promised to head a party for
my rescue, but I knew it would be useless to do so.
Our own ascent had taken a day and a half ; the
mountain was hourly becoming more difficult, and

78 THE DESCENT OF UNCOMPAHGKE.

should another snow-storm come on, the way would be-
closed for months. Moreover, allowing that they did
succeed in re-ascending the mountain, could I live un-
til they reached me ? For the cold was intense ; the
thermometer then read 20° below, and that meant
death to me. Of course a fire was out of the question,,
but I did the best I could ; I wrapped myself up in my
blankets and burrowed in the snow to rny chin.

The day was beautiful ; the sky blue and clear, as it
so often is in Colorado, and the air transparent to a
remarkable degree. My companions were just in
sight, skimming rapidly along on their snow-shoes. As
I watched them I fell asleep, and slept soundly and
dreamlessly for four hours. When I awoke it was
about three in the afternoon, but a change had come
over the scene. At first I could not recall where I
was, but gradually a realization of my position stole
over me. Slowly freezing and starving to death on
the top of a lonely mountain ! I reproached my com-
panions for deserting me ; I reproached my weakness
in allowing them to go ; I regretted ever having left
home — I did a lot of silly and useless things just then.
Silly and useless they certainly were, for they neither
helped nor comforted me.

The sun, which at eleven o'clock shone bright and
clear, was now obscured by thick clouds; the wind
was rising and moaned around the rocky corners in a
ghostly way. A fierce mountain storm was begin-
ning. The air appeared to be peopled with spirits ; I
seemed to be made up of two persons ; one my right
hand — the other my left. " Up here," said my left
hand, " is it not a proper abode for the homeless souls

A MOUNTAIN STORM. 79

of dead men ? Could they be less in the world and
still out of it in any other place I " " What of it ? "
said rny right hand, to my left hand questioner:
" Shall we not soon be ourself a dead man?" I laughed
as I noticed the odd use of the editorial we.

It grew dark very rapidly, and as the day faded I
could faintly see the scattered lights of Kirby.
Nearer to rne — a little way up the slope — shone the
white gleam of an electric arc light, that the Pay
Rock Mining Company kept burning over their shaft-
house. I even fancied I could hear the clink of the
drills that I knew were at work in the mine. But
this was impossible, for no sounds could have traveled
such a distance in that rare air. My senses were
keenly active, and I took an extraordinary interest in
my physical condition. I lost the feeling of mental
depression that had lately overcome me ; every nerve
was now taut, and for the first time since my comrades
left me I began to think I could escape. I counted
my respirations and found I was breathing thirty
times a minute ; my pulse was making ninety-five
beats. Suddenly, the air seemed to grow colder ; the
wind which had been blowing with fearful velocity
lulled for an instant, and then — down came the snow
in great white flakes.

It was a mountain storm true enough, for the snow
filled the air in an almost solid mass. I could only
breathe by sheltering my face in my hands. The gale
began with redoubled fury, and seemed to fairly shake
the mountain, as it struck against it with tremendous
force. It caught my blankets and rushed them out

80 THE DESCENT OF UNCOMPAHGKE.

into the wind-swept blackness abou%t me ; it almost
carried me over the cliff and I barely saved myself by
taking shelter behind a boulder. As I crouched
there, I felt it rocking ; it swung a little as if poised

on its centre ; then it fell with a .

I find I am getting into a very awkward position,
without the least show for escape alive, and I think
I had better leave matters where they are. My im-
pression is that I jumped — finally.

VI. BURIED UNDER AN AVALANCHE.

There is a saving current in the Rocky Mountains
that u If you want to go anywhere you'd better start
two days before you're ready," implying by this that
otherwise you are sure to be late. Those travelers on
a certain train on a certain road in Colorado, during
the month of a certain January established the truth
of this saw beyond a perad venture.

It was a southern bound train, and when it reached
Colorado Springs it ran into a heavy snow-storm. At
Pueblo the gale was at its height, and twenty miles
beyond, the road became impassable and the train
stuck fast in a drift. The fires in the locomotive were
soon extinguished and the huge mass became inert
and helpless.

.Only those who have been snow-bound on an open
prairie can form any idea of our situation and our
powerlessness. The wind roared and howled as it
blew down upon us a furious storm from the north-
east, and the snow fell upon everything, swiftly cover-
ing the land and burying the train out of sight. There
was snow everywhere. To the eastward for hundreds
of miles, lay a vast, rolling prairie, yet so fast fell the
snow and so blinding was it, that our vision was
bounded a few yards away by a thick, impenetrable
wall of white. Westward, twenty-five miles, were

(81)

OZ BUKIED UNDER AN AVALANCHE.

the mountains, yet between them and us hung a screen
of snow-flakes and they were invisible. To the north
and south stretched the railroad that bound us with iron
ties to civilization, but this too was buried deep out of
sight. The very air was turned into a solid bank of
snow, and we fairly gasped for breath as we faced
the storm.

A curious way the snow seemed to fall. Tumbling
down one moment the broad white flakes came ; tumb-
ling up the next they went, as if suddenly met by
some force that sent them bounding into the air, back
whence they started. Kaleidoscopic figures in white
danced and played all manner of merry games to the
music of the North Wind, that whistled a discordant
and shrill refrain through the crevices and round the
corners of the car. A Midwinter Night's Dream it
was, and it was cold too, bitter cold ! Snow ! snow !
snow ! it was everywhere and it was everything. The
train was snow ; the land was snow ; the air was snow.
It seemed as if the Earth had suddenly put^on a white
veil and been married to Jack Frost.

Once or twice there loomed up through the mists
that enveloped us, the forms of stray cattle, drifting
helplessly before the storm like rudderless ships,
but even these were white with the snow, and no
sooner did we see them than they disappeared and
nothing remained but the blank walls.

Twenty hours we lay thus, dull and desperate.
Twenty hours, with nothing to do but be miserable,
and nothing to look at but each other. Four passen-
gers sat in the smoking compartment of the Pullman
car Las Yegas. Three were men with large mining

HUNGRY. 83

interests in New Mexico ; they had spent many years-
in the mountains and had prospered. They were
known to each other as the Colonel, the Professor and
the Judge, and I soon fell into the habit of thus ad-
dressing them.

Why these four men were in the smoking-room it
would be difficult to say, for they were not smoking ;
they had long been deprived of that luxury. Tobacco
in any form, at the end of twenty hours, was as much
a stranger as Hope. The train boy, who at Pueblo
experienced considerable difficulty in selling his cigars-
at five cents apiece, within four hours after we were
blockaded cleared out his entire stock at a net price of
twenty-five cents, and was heard later bitterly regret-
ting not having asked fifty. This was American en-
terprise.

At the end of twenty hours in the drift we were
apparently no nearer rescue than at the beginning,,
for the snow still fell and the wind still blew and the
banks of white grew higher and higher. We had ex-
hausted all the available devices for killing time, such
as card-playing, reading, chatting and sleeping. There
was but one thing we had not tried to any extent, and
that was — eating. During all that time we had fasted,
and the depression of spirits that always accompanies
an empty stomach, slowly settled down upon us, and
we sat silent and sullen, eying one another in a half-
savage way, neither reassuring nor calculated to raise
the general tone of the party. The car began to grow
unpleasantly cool ; the penetrating wind found out
the unchinked crevices and made frantic efforts to-
reach us, and it became necessary to put on our over-

84 BURIED UNDER AN AVALANCHE.

•coats. I shall never forget the look of mingled sur-
prise and joy that spread over the Judge's rugged
face, as he thrust his hand into the pocket of his
overcoat and pulled out, wrapped in a piece of old
newspaper, a genuine doughnut. Neither can I ad-
equately describe my own feelings. For it was none of
your imitation affairs, that can be digested in a week
or less. Not at all ! This was a real, tangible con-
trivance, ring-shaped, brown and harder than Christian
Charity. There could be no question about its genuine-
ness, and its appearance was hailed by the four with
emotion. No matter if it was so dry and tough it was
impossible to break ; all the better, in fact, since it
would take so much longer to digest, and thus give our
stomachs more occupation. "With the nicest care and
mathematical exactness the treasure was cut into four
equal parts, and quickly vanished down four throats.
Then a most remarkable change came over the faces
of all. From being gloomy and despondent, we be-
came light-hearted and talkative; pleased as to the
past and hopeful as to the future. The humanizing ef-
fect of the doughnut was wonderful. •

" It occurs to me," said the Colonel, " that the hull
of a man's moral intelligence is located, to a degree,
in his — er — stummick. Fifteen minutes ago I was
fightin' ugly ; now if a feller was to smite me, I
reckon I'd let it pass."

The Judge cleared his throat with a loud ahem!
.and remarked slowly :

"Thatf quarter-section of doughnut done me good
too. I remember once," here he settled himself in
his seat and assumed the attitude of a man about to

ON THE MAROON CREEK ROAD. 85-

relate a story, " I remember once I was ketched into-
a little snow-slide up in the mountains, when the cir-
cumstances was peculiar. I had been prospectin' all
the fall up in the Gunnison country, I and Major Bill
Tuttle, my pardner, and when winter came we 'lowed
we'd just put up a shanty on the Maroon Creek road
and live there 'till spring. You see, we was not flush
just then, an' we wanted to be ekernomical. We
picked out a likely spot on a pretty tol'able steep hill,
but protected by a heavy gro'th of timber from
snow-slides, and we put up a very substantial log
cabin. You know the kind, Cornel ; the rear end was
the dirt of the hill an' the ruff sloped forward, made
of clay." The Colonel nodded.

" Well, it was a right likely place, and afore we
was done a party of four other prospectors come
along, and built themselves a camp side by side. On
the mornin' of the 13th day of January — I 'member
the day like as if 'twas yesterday — as we run short of
grub, Bill 'lowed he'd go to the railroad an' fetch
some in 'fore snow come. I didn't mind beiri' alone, fur
there was my neighbors close to hand, and we all
passed the time pretty quietly an' comfortably, play-
in' old sledge or poker.

" Well sir, on the 20th of that month, just a week
after Bill left, it come on to snow, an' it certainly did
snow for all 'twas worth, an' could git credit for, just
like it's doin' now, It snowed for two days an''
nights — steady — and then let up an' begun to thaw.
On the night of the 22d, I was over to the other
cabin with the boys, havin' a little D. P. an' maybe a
little somethin' to keep the snow out — snow's a power-

86 BUKIED UNDER AN AVALANCHE.

ful bad thing for a man to git into him in winter,
Cornel, as you know — 'taint so disastrous in summer —
an' 'long about twelve I started for home. It was
snowin' then powerfully, an' th' old shanty was half
out o' sight, but I got there and tumbled into bed, 'just
'centered as I was,' " —here the Judge waved his hand
in graceful accompaniment to the quotation, and the
Colonel nodded approvingly.

u I closed the door, it was a very heavy one and
fitted snug ; the heavy shutter over the single winder
was shut already, an' then 1 went to sleep. When I
woke up the room was dark an' cold. Someways I
didn't feel sleepy, sort of slept out, so I got up an' lit
a match an' looked at my watch. It pointed to ten
o'clock and eight minutes, which was mighty surpris-
in' to me, for I didn't cal'late I had just slept clear
into the next night, for 'twas night I knew, bein' so
dark. The watch was going reg'lar, an' then I started
for th' door to have a look at the weather. But there
warnt any weather to be seen, for I couldn't git the
door open. I pushed, an' I kicked, an' I pounded,
but she wouldn't budge, and all at once it come to
me that I was buried in the snow !

" Gen'lemen, when that impression struck me, at
first I was amazed and dumfounded, but I was soon
all right. As I figgered it out, a snow-slide had, like
as not, come down the mountain, an' just covered up
the old shanty out o' sight. And I figgered that as
it come rippin' down the slope it went tearin' through
them trees, breakin' 'em off an' pullin' 'em up, and
they just stretched over the cabin an' sort o' bolstered
up the snow, so's to keep it from smashin' in the ruff.

IN THE DARK. 87

But I 'lowed they was a fearful weight on the old
shanty, an' I set to work, first thing, proppin' it up.
I knew as long as that snow laid over the cabin I
could never dig through it, 'cause of the trees and
limbs, for I'd never an axe by me, an' all I could do
was to wait for help to come. If the men in th' other
cabin warnt buried themselves, or killed, they'd dig
me out, and if they was, I knew Bill 'ud be back 'fore
long. On'y two things bothered me : First, I
couldn't have a fire, by reason of the chimley bein'
stopped by the snow, an' they was no way fur the
smoke to git out, and so I might freeze to death. Sec-
ond, was the starvin'. When Bill left me I was
mighty short o' pervisions, and for the last two days I
was entirely out an' had been boardin' over to the
other camp, expectin' to pay back when Bill come.

u Well, gen'lemen, I made a careful search through
the cabin fur somethin' to eat, an' all I found was a
little salt pork, a small piece of salt codfish, a little
bit o' taller candle, an' some bakin' powder. The
candle I 'lowed not to burn, but just keep fur the
last in the case of sickness, but the pork and codfish
I cut up into little chunks, and found I had 'bout
enough to sustain me fur three days, allowin' fair ra-
tions each day. I realized that I musn't scrimp my-
self, fur if I was to get weak I'd succumb to the cold.
There was just one thing I didn't think of then, an'
that was water. I wasn't takin' very much water
them days, an' so I naturally overlooked it.

" Well, as soon as I made my plans, I eat some of
my first day's allowance, and blowin' out the candle,
found myself in darkness. But before doin' this I

88 BURIED UNDER AN AVALANCHE.

looked at my watch and saw 'twas a few minutes past
'leven. Then, in order to keep warm and occupy
my mind, I begun dancin' and jumpin' about,
exercisin' as much as the narrer limits an' darkness
would allow. I kept this up more or less for may be
three hours, till I was out o' breath and dead tired,
and then feelin' warm and drowsy, I rolled myself up
in all the blankets they was in the cabin and lay down
on the bunk and fell asleep.

" Well sir, I was woke up by a most awful thirst ;
my mouth and throat fairly ached, and my tongue was
dry and parched. The feelin' was terrible, an' hardly
realizin' my situation I jest jumped up to get some
water. But I'd no sooner touched the floor than the
hull thing flashed into my mind ; I was helpless. All
round me was ; water, water everywhere, an' nary
drop to drink.' " Here the Judge made a slight pause
to note the effect of this quotation, which being well
received he went on :

"E~o sir ; not a drop, for I couldn't reach the snow
to save my life ; I was bound in too tight. The win-
der I knew was barred, an' the door I had already
tried to open an' failed. In the hope of gettin' some-
thin' to moisten my throat, I bit a piece offen the tal-
ler candle an' slowly swallered it. It was disgustin*
but it give me a little relief. But from that moment
the dreadful horror of my situation slowly grew on
me ; the cold got more intense, an' I slowly felt its chill
creepin' over me, as I sat there motionless in the
dark. Hours passed so ; my mouth and throat were
still unmoistened and my distress grew greater with
each minute. I begun to feel drowsy, an' this grad-

DYING OF THIRST. 89

ually got worse, till at last I wrapped myself in my
blankets an' fell asleep again, an' dreamed ; dreamed
of brooks an' streams. I could just hear 'em ripplin*
an' chirpin' through the medders, clear an' bright. I
plunged my face into the water an' drank, but still
I was thirsty. Or I caught some in a bright glass an'
watched the cool dew gather on the outside, but when
I went to drink, no water trickled down my parched
throat, an' I woke more distressed than ever.

" I had slept, it seemed to me, 'bout five hours, for
I had been worn out, body an' mind. No change had
taken place, an' the cabin was as dark an' colder'n
ever. Now I ain't a man that's easy beat ; I've been
up an' down too off'n to be discouraged, but that awful
thirst seemed to parch my very soul, and my pluck
just withered up. I was partially dazed. I judged
I had been in the cabin then 'bout twenty-four hours, as
my watch showed it was a little past one. I just sat
there and let the time slip slowly by ; I dared not ex-
ercise, for the exertion increased my thirst, which wa&
already almost inaddenin', so I wrapped myself in my
blankets an' lay in my bunk. Then in the darkness
about me I saw all kinds of ghostly things. Once,
standin' by my side appeared the figger of a man that
I recognized as Henry Freeman, a miner who had
been killed by my side in a mine-cave a year before.
A moment later, hanging from the bend in the stove-
pipe I saw the body of Coal Oil Jimmy, a desperado
who I saw hanged by the Vigilantes in eighteen eighty.
Then, before me danced rows of small fig^ers, of fan-
tastic shapes ; now up, now down they went, till my
brain peeled an' I thought I was goin' mad. All this

90 BURIED UNDER AN AVALANCHE.

time I felt I was steadily losin' strength — starvin'. I
hadn't eaten anythin' in a great many hours an' my
thirst also made me very weak. I saw I could not
hold out much longer.

" Suddenly a new horror came to me — I feared I was
in danger of suffocating for I noticed the oxygen
of th' air was becomin' exhausted. The snow had
packed so tightly around the cabin as to prevent the
air gettin' in. There seemed to be no way to meet
this danger, an' the greatness of it at first overcome
me. But by givin' the situation careful thought I come
to the conclusion that if I could reduce my breath-
in's from eighteen to twelve a minute, I should save
one-third of the air in the room, or make it go one-
third further. So I tried to do this, an' with some suc-
cess. But all this time my thirst was steadily increas-
in', an' I suffered terrible torment. The agony was
dreadful j my tongue was swollen to great size and
was cracked an' bleedin'. I could not close my teeth
together ; my mouth was parched an' hot ; my throat
smarted an' burned so that every breath sent a stingin'
pain down into my chest. The cold increased — or I
became more affected by it, as 1 grew weaker — an' in
spite of my distress a powerful drowsy feelin'
overcome me. I resisted it as well as I could, dreadin'
lest I should freeze to death, but though I realized the
danger of it, I fell asleep, an' was tormented by pain-
ful dreams of death an' disaster.

"I don't know how long I slept,^but 1 woke as tired
and weary an' sad as before.

" The thirst of yesterday was now worse than ever.
I was most crazy with it ; it was difficult to breathe ;

SUFFOCATING. 91

the air was certainly losin' its oxygen ; my head felt
light and giddy, while a gnawin' pain in my stomach
told me that I was starvin'. Still I could have en-
dured it all but for the thirst, which was awful.
I could think of nothin' but water, and the knowledge
that within a few feet of me lay ice an' snow in vast
quantities, only served to make it worse. I could not
sit still ! I could not think ! I raged up an' down
the cabin ; I pounded on the door ; I dashed my weight
.against it, but it was firm and hardly rattled. There
was no doubt about it, I was a prisoner, and would
soon be a madman or dead unless help came. My ex-
ertion, in consequence of the bad air and my weakness,
soon exhausted me and I sat down to rest. But I
couldn't rest ! My tongue, enormously swollen, al-
most stopped my breathin', an' I feared I was slowly
suff ocatin' in that way. I began, at last, to realize that
I was goin' to die, for my neighbors must all be dead
to have left me buried so long. Perhaps Bill was
also lost.

" As I sat there in the darkness I heard a sound,
the first not made by myself in the three days I had been
in the cabin. It was somethin' diggin' in the snow.
At first I could not make out what it was, but I be-
lieved it was some wild animal, a wolf or coyote, that
had discovered the existence of the cabin. But in a
few minutes I heard voices murmurin' indistinctly ;
— then talkin' and laughin' — they were very near.
The men approached very rapidly; I tried to shout, but
my throat refused to give forth more than a hoarse
croak. More laughter ! The rescuers were close at
hand. How could they laugh at such a time, not

92 BUEIED UNDER AN AVALANCHE.

knowin' but I was dead ! Nearer an' nearer they come,
till at last, after what seemed hours of waitin', they
reached the door an' bust it open with a crash. With
the inrush of the cold air an' dazzlin' light I fainted.
When I come to, Bill — my pardner — was standin'
over me, smilin', and near him was two of the boys
from the other camp. Bill looked at me steadily for
a minute, and then he says :

" ' You must have been pretty bilin' lately, Judge,
'cordin' to the looks of this cabin.'

" ' Water ! ' " was all I could say.

" i Aha ! " ' says Bill. " < I knowed I was right. But
sody is better ; Chimmy, just ring the bell and tell
Csesar to fetch some B. and S. I feel a little that
way myself.'

" His jokin' was quite lost on me, and weak as I was
I rushed to the door and greedily swallowed a hand-
full of snow. Bill looked at me sadly. ' Judge,' he
says, i You'd better reform. It'll be a case of snakes
before you know it.'

" * What day's this ?'" I asked, still confused, for
now that my thirst was temp'rarily relieved I felt the
effects of my fast. " ' It's two P. M. in the afternoon of
the 23rd day of January, Anni Dornino, 1881,' " says
Bill ; " ' and accordin' to the alminick the -moon was
full same time you was, an' that's last night.'

" It was just so. I had been locked up in that cabin
from twelve o'clock one night until two the next day,
and that was all. There was no avalanche, nor snow
slide ; there had been plenty of air ; the door was not
fastened at all, and could have been opened easy if

93

I hadn't tried to push it out when it actually
swung in."

The Judge paused, carefully shifted his long legs,
and looked benignantly upon us.

"Well, but look ahere," cried the Colonel, in great
excitement, " why didn't you try it both ways ? "

" Yes," said the Judge slowly, " that's the very
question the boys asked me."

" Well then, all I've got to say is that you were a
perfect blamed fool," the Colonel continued, in a dis-
gusted tone ; " a reg'lar cussed tenderfoot, by Jove !"

The Judge smiled sweetly. "The very identical
expression that Bill used," was all he said.

VII. THE WEDDING AT PUERTA DA LUNA.

The sun shone down upon Puerta da Luna* with a
yellow glare that was blinding in its intensity. The
red dust, through which an occasional horse or mule
kicked a cloudy way, rose sluggishly from the earth,,
then slowly settled back, hot and scorching, upon the
traveler. The air was baking, and it quivered and
shrivelled in a way that made one fairly gasp.

Down below the town flowed Rio Pecos — lazy and
dirty — its alkaline waters seeming, in the fiery sun-
light, to boil, as they flowed with languid difficulty
around the sand bars that blocked them in. The
plaza of the town — for every Mexican town is built
upon a plaza — was a grand affair, being bounded on
one side by the town itself, and on the other three
by the horizon. The founder of Puerta da Luna was
a man of large ideas, and he intended that the town
should have room to grow. It certainly had all the
advantages in this respect that ever a town had, for
there was nothing for hundreds of miles to stop its ex-
tending in three directions. Yet there it stood, at the
advanced age of one hundred and fifty years, a sad

*Lippincott's Gazetteer spells this Puerto de Luna, but Governor
Walker himself insisted that it should be Fuerta da Luna, and so that
spelling has been retained here.

(94)

HIGH NOON. 95

monument of neglected opportunities. It is doubt-
ful if it had increased in size by a single house in the
last century. Jndolence was the only industry there ;
a liking for work would have made a man's sanity
questionable. The white men, who from time to time
had gone to Puerta da Luna, at first carried with them a
breezy air of bustle and enterprise, and each avowed
his intention of u waking things up, sir ! " But their
energy and ambition were soon burnt out of them
by the hot suns of the desert, and the sleepy influences
of the place overcame them.

Close by the town rises the bluff of a mesa, and
from there we can 'look down upon Puerta da Luna
actually, as we do figuratively at all times. Below
us, on our left, we see the cacti and ocatillas crisping
in the heat, and the white face of the land glowing in
the fierce noon sun. We see the red clay roofs of the
town itself, and our eye is caught by its one frame
building, the Dew Drop Palace of Pleasure, that
lifts its warped and splintered walls to the extraor-
dinary height of two stories. Near at hand is the
little adobe church, older than the town itself, that
holds within its walls that precious relic, the holy
image of Santa Blasa, to whose shrine often come
barren women, who kneeling and praying, return
thence to their homes, and are made happy within
the year.

Beyond the town we see the river again, and the
quivering heat that rises from its sand bars is as
visible as a fog. Everything else is yellow or
red, and the baking earth is quite unmasked by the
green of vegetation, save for the cactus or sage, things

96 THE WEDDING AT PUERTA DA LUNA.

that are but the mockery of living, growing plants. One
can almost believe he has left the abode of earthly
dwellers and has been transported to Another planet,
because of the strangeness of everything about him.
Or else he can fancy, on some cruel hot day, that he is
seeing the death of the earth. The wither and blight
of the desert, the decay of old age are everywhere.
Even the children seem to be centuries old, their
parched, sun-burnt little bodies making them look
like animated mummies.

During the day one seldom sees a moving thing ex-
posed in the heat. But as the light wanes and the sun
drops behind the mesas in the west, the town slowly
awakens. The air is still hot, but not with the dry
and scorching heat of noon-time ; the sands still glow
with the stored-up caloric, accumulated during the
day, but the night-wind that follows the sun reaches
the town as the daylight fades, and then, of a sudden
it is cool. Slowly the people rouse themselves from
their lethargy. The doorsteps and narrow piazzas that
abut upon the plaza become populous with life, and
the sounds of guitars and castanets are heard, playing
an accompaniment to some melodious soprano, singing
a long-remembered song of Castile or Andalusia ; a
song brought here, may be, by some singer in Cortes' s
band, three hundred and fifty years ago.

A curious state of affairs exists in PuertaMa Luna,
as in many other New Mexican towns. There are two
races there, the Mexican or Hispanio- American, and
the White or American, as they are called, and these
two races do not commingle readily. It being a
frontier town, many of the riff-raff of the country

WALKER. 97

liave drifted there, and have earned by their lawless-
ness a bad name for the place. Not even the exhaust-
ing, enervating climate has entirely subdued the vi-
tality of this element, and it now and then breaks out
in some mad feat of blood.

Twenty years ago old " Guv'nor " Walker came to
Puerta da Luna, determined to make a success of his
life. At that time he possessed brains, pluck and a
little money, which he had saved from the wreck the
war had made of his fortune, for the " Guv'nor " had
been on the side of the south. And what had he
actually done for himself ? Nothing ! The fatal in-
fluences of the place had grown about him and he was
ambitionl ess. Yet in spite of his loss of energy, the
old man still carried himself with courtly dignity.
Twenty years « in Puerta da Luna had not entirely
worn away the polish of his Kentucky breeding. The
Governor was tall in figure and stately in manner yet,
and though he dressed shabbily, you would never think
it was less than broadcloth and linen he wore. He was
fond of reminiscence also, and wielded much influ-
ence in the hamlet. The Governor was looked up to
by all, and where fair dealing and honest arbitration
was desired he was appealed to, though it was seldom
that any other arbitrator than the six-shooter was
needed.

The Dew Drop was his property, as was also the ad-
joining small store, where might be purchased many
things, such as tobacco,calico, bacon, flour, cheap saddles
and baking-powder. Nothing ever gave the Governor
more pleasure than to collect about him in the Dew
Drop half a dozen companions who would listen to his

98 THE WEDDING AT PUEKTA DA LUNA.

stories of by-gone days. It used to be whispered in
Puerta da Luna that during the war the Governor had
been guilty of some tremendous, unmentionable act
of treason against the United States, and that he
was waiting for it to blow over before returning to
Kentucky. One would think that in twenty years it
had had time to be forgotten, yet still he lingered. " I
was thinkin' of going back this summer," he would
say, as regularly as the spring came around, " but I
reckon I'll wait now till fall. Don't quite see how I
kin leave my bizness."

Seated with his hearers about him, the Governor
would warm to his work. " Forty de Luny was not
what it used to be," he would protest, with a sorrow-
ful shake of the head, as if " Forty de Luny " had ever
been anything different since the Christian era began.
" It was gettin' too near the settlers ; it wouldn't be
long before there'd be a railroad runnin' slap in front
of the Dew Drop, and where would old Guv'nor
Walker be then ? Dead, sah ! that's th' idea — dead of
a broken heart." Here the old fellow's feelings al-
ways mastered him, and he found it necessary to
stimulate.

" When I fust come here," he would say, " we used
to hev great times. It was at the close of the wah,
sah, and there was a lively scatterin' of the boys for
certain reasons. Old Forty was very gay in those
days ; too gay almost, for we was obliged to get up a
little company of vigilantes, in order to sort of steady
things. There used to be some tol'able quick shootin'
for all that. I 'member once a chap named Bill
Thomas let off his six-shooter into a crowd and killed

GOOD OLD TIMES. 99

three Greasers. We had to tie him up, on account of
pop'lar opinion, though it didn't seem hardly fair,
they bein' only Mexikins. You see, Bill was after a
feller he had a right to kill on sight, and these Grea-
sers sort o' got plum in line, so, not bein' able to shoot
round, he tried goin' through 'em, killin' 'em by the
way, as it were, incidentally, and I always said it was
a mistake to hang him.

" There is a couple of holes here," he would add,
with a small laugh, pointing to the wooden bar, " that
has a story. It was before I was proprietor, bein' only
tendin' bar, when one day, while the usual game wa&
goin' on, a little feller, Manuel Manzanares, waltzes in
and sallies up to the bar an' calls for some whiskey.
Well, it just filled him up to the edge, and he whipped
out his gun an' sayin' he hadn't got any money, cov-
ered me an' backed fur the door. I dodged behind
the bar, whipped out my pistol and cal'lated to git pay
that way. Well, I caught him, caught him twice in
fact, an' could have caught him three times if it had
been necessary, but it warnt. An' the cur'us thing
about it all was that there was two other men hit
same time, an' it was claimed I did it, though I only
pulled twice an' both those leads was found in
Manuel. Well, it became convenient for me to go-
to Yegas just about then, and i must've stayed away
several months. Gurus, ain't it, to think of a man'&
havin' to leave Forty for such a thing as that ? We
were mighty strict in those days, sah ; most too strict."

But it was with the ladies the Governor was most
popular. There was always about him an air of re-
spectful homage and attention, no matter who the

100 THE WEDDING AT PUERTA DA LTJNA.

woman was, that at once won her regard. As lie
strolled across the plaza he was constantly bowing his
salutations to one or another senora, and his sombrero
was being beaten isochronally with his stately gestures.
There wasn't a house within fifty miles of Puerta da
Luna at which the white haired old "Guv'nor"was
not welcome, and though the envied of all men for
his taking qualities with the sex, no one ever ques-
tiened his right to their favor.

Great things were to happen in Puerta da Luna
this night, when the bright moon, hanging high in the
lunar pathway, shone through her "gates" upon the
sands of the desert. The moon was half full, and she
offered herself as a noble example of temperance and
moderation to the roisterers on earth ; an example alas,
neither understood nor followed, for Puerta da Luna
was undeniably — drunk.

The occasion of this unusual hilarity was the cele-
bration of the marriage of Placide Baca y Baca, eldest
son and heir of Don Selso Baca, the wealthiest and
best known ranchero in San Miguel County. The
title to thousands of acres of dry, red land was
vested in Don Selso, it having descended to him from
his father, who in turn had received it from his father,
and so on back, until you could trace the title straight
to the great land grant, given in the year 1723 to Don
Ferdigo Baca by the Spanish King. Besides the land
he owned, hundreds of cattle bore Don Selso's brand
and thousands of sheep were watched by his herders.
On the banks of the Pecos stood his house, and near
it was his orchard and vineyard — a few acres wrested
from the drought and made fertile by the alkaline

PLACIDE AND MAKIA DOLORES. 101

waters of the river, which had been led thither through
rude canals. Here grew fine fruit ; peaches, pears,
apricots, plums ; melons too of such tremendous girth
that I dare not give their dimensions. In the
vineyard grapes could be plucked, the bunches
rivaling in size and flavor the celebrated samples
brought back by the original investigating committee
from the land of Canaan. From these grapes wine
had been made, and this, the wine of Baca, was
expected to add to the innocent hilarity of this
joyful occasion.

Placide — son of Don Selso Baca— had that after-
noon led to the altar in the little church, the blushing
daughter of Don Anton Chico — herself called Maria
Dolores. In front of that altar they had knelt and
clasped hands, while the swarthy little priest had mum-
bled and stumbled through his unfamiliar mass, and
at length they had walked out, they who had entered
as two, forever bound together as one. And by this
marriage were united the houses of Baca and Chico ;.
the rights and titles to the two estates were joined,,
and there was great rejoicing.

Invitations had been sent out for miles around, bid-
ding the ranchmen come and be merry, and an hour
after sunset the town was alive with swaggering cow-
boys, dressed in their best ; all wearing broad som-
breros, fancifully colored shirts, bright flowing neck-
ties, curious little high heeled-boots, into which were
tucked their trousers, and huge, jingling spurs, buckled
over their in steps.

The two Dons had united to celebrate the notable
event becomingly. They had secured the large room

102 THE WEDDING AT PUERTA DA LUNA.

over the Dew Drop for an " Assembly Room," and
had craftily appointed Governor Walker Master of
Ceremonies. The bar of the Dew Drop was thrown
open to all comers, and long before the hour for the
Ball had arrived, Free Whiskey and the fiery Mescal
had made themselves felt. Now and then, some in-
toxicated reveler might be seen in the shimmer of the
moonlight on the plaza, arguing with his unstable
shadow, and as he swung his arms, to emphasize with
gestures his flowery, albeit disjointed sentences, the
earth would slip from under him and he would fall
limp in the dust. A companion, himself apostrophiz-
ing the night, wandering spirally by, and seeing the
prostrate form, would pause in pity, when from under
him the world would whirl, and he too would repose
in drunken dustiness. Then a merry laugh from some
dusky senorita would set vibrating the clear night air,
as the two roisterers would attempt to rise, then fall,
stagger and fall again, singing swanlike as they sank
to the unsteady ground. Fainter would grow their
voices and fainter, diminuendo — last and lost effort,
prostrate would they lie, drunk — dusty — happy.

The upper room of the Dew Drop was, this night,
devoted to Terpsichore, and presented a truly attractive
appearance. Around the rough, unceiled interior were
hung flags, in an ineffectual attempt to conceal the
bareness of the walls, while from the naked rafters
overhead were suspended two flimsy chandeliers, hold-
ing kerosene lamps which shed a smoky, dingy light
about. Through the cracks in the warped and creaking
floor came the heat, the smoke, the odors and the pro-
fanity of the bar-room below. The atmosphere in

THE BALL ROOM. 103

the Ball room was like that of an oven, and the four
narrow windows served to ventilate it but poorly.

In a frontier town like Puerta da Luna, society is
not defined and hedged about as it is where what is
called civilization has made more progress. Still it
has its limitations even there. Not every one was
bidden to the Ball that night, and a resolute, active
young fellow, with a significant six-shooter hanging
at his right hip, stood by the door as the guests
passed in, and closely scanned each face. Not every-
one was admitted, but nearly every one, and by ten
o'clock the scene was one of entrancing beauty. It was
eloquently described by the Governor, as he stood in
the doorway, as being — " bewitchin' — 'pon me soul,
—hie !"

Seated on the benches about the room were the
ladies, becomingly dressed in white. They were of
various nationalities, from the light-haired, fair-corn-
plexioned dame of Saxon descent, to the dusky belle,
whose shining black hair and dark skin be-
trayed the mixture of Spanish and Indian blood.
They were of all ages, for no maiden was without
her chaperon. They are very particular about this
little point in Fuerta da Luna, though the fact that
the ball was to be given over a bar-room was accepted
as a matter of course. Besides, where else could it be
given ?

Lounging about the door, in awkward, uneasy atti-
tudes were the men ; brave enough, all of them, yet
none daring now. Every one felt ill at ease ;-the Ball
seemed to be a funeral. But on the appearance of the
wavering Governor, a change took place. He wan-

104 THE WEDDING AT PUEKTA DA LUNA.

dered across the room, vainly endeavoring to follow
undeviatingly a crack in the floor, through which
arose the vapors from beneath. Cautiously he ap-
proached the band — a fiddle, guitar and accordeon.
Arriving at the side of the fiddler he laid his hand in a
free and easy manner on his shoulder and with this
support, endeavored to lean over and whisper confiden-
tially in his ear. But he miscalculated, either as to
the strength of his prop, or his own stability, for he
lost his balance, and making a clutch in the air was
only saved from disaster by the accordion. Then,
realizing that he was not in proper condition to
deliver the speech with which he had intended to open
the ball, with a delicate sense of the fitness of
things, he removed his sombrero and swinging it about
his head shouted lustily, " Hurrah ! " and the festivi-
ties began. With the first note of the music, a cow-
boy, inspired by the wine of Baca, dashed with a wild
" Whoop ! " toward the row of ladies, and seizing one at
random, rattled away in a mad, jingling waltz. Then
others followed, encouraged by his example, and in a
few minutes the floor was covered with dancing
couples. Roifnd and round they went ; the warped
boards creaking, the glass of the lamps rattling,and the
men whispering soft curses to themselves as they col-
lided with one another. The Governor did not dance,
but stood by the door, leaning heavily against the
wall, his sombrero tipped over his eyes and a benevo-
lent smile on his lips, as he beat unsteady time to the
music with his forefinger.

While the ball was at its height there appeared in
the low, narrow doorway at the head of the ladder-

THE LITTLE OLD MAN. 105

like stair, the figure of a stranger. A little old man,
bow-legged, with arms of unnatural length, and clad
in faded blue-jeans. His small face was wizened
and parched ; no trace of a beard was visible on his
sunken cheeks, and his small eyes, set unpleasantly
close together and unframed by eyebrows, glanced
restlessly about. Bob Lynch and Rube Friday were
standing near the door as the stranger appeared, and
as he hesitated about entering, Rube, in that easy lonne
camaraderie manner that became his style so well,
stepped up to him and hitting him a substantial blow
on the back, that seemed to shrivel him up, until
small as he had been before, he appeared even smaller
then, said :

" Hello ! Major ! Glad to see ye. Lookin' fur a
chance to jingle yer spurs, hey ? "

" E"o sir," said the stranger slowly, " I'm lookin'
fur my little boy. You aint seen him, now, I reckon ? "

" Seen him ! " said Rube, winking facetiously to
the others who stood near. " Oh yes ! I've seen him.
Little feller, pinafore, pink curls, 'bout so high an'
answers to the name o' Bub."

"Y-e-s," said the stranger doubtfully, " I guess that's
him. Where is he ? Hev you seen him lately ? "

" Well, I should say I hed ! Less see " here

Rube assumed an air of deep abstraction, occasionally
varied by heat-lightning movements of his left eyelid,
of so humorous a nature as to send everyone of the
bystanders into ill-repressed spasms of laughter.

u Less see ; where was it I see Bub last? Just you

wait ? I got a powerful mem'ry fur furgettin' things."
G

106 THE WEDDING AT PUERTA DA LUNA.

Here Rube pressed the back of his hand against
his forehead and assumed an air of meditation.

" Where — wuz — it — I seen Bub — last ? He was a
well mannered chap, wasn't he? Had fust rate
comp'ny manners — sort o' swallered the juice when
talkin' to ladies, so to speak ? "

" Yes, yes ! " said the old man eagerly ; " where
did you say you seen him ? "

" Tryin' to recollec'. There wuz a feller like that
had some trouble up to the X Bar X ranch a year or
so ago, and never quite recovered from it. Got ketched
into a lariat someways an' it affected his breathin' per-
manently. Made a mistake about the brand on some
hosses through bein' short sighted. At least that's
the way it come to me."

" It wasn't Willie, I know," said the old man.

" No, I reckon not, myself. Then there wuz a fel-
ler down to the Half -circle-diamond place, down near
the Laberde grant, that got into a misunderstandin'
with the boss an' hed to pull his freight to save his
head. Thet couldn't hev been Bub now, I reckon ? "

" No," said the old man, " that couldn't Ve been
Willie. He left home four year ago, an' I aint
heard 'bout him but onct, an' then they told me they'd
seen him out near Forty de Luny, an' so I come look-
in' for him. I'm from Missouri, myself."

"Well," said Rube, generously, "You keep right
on as long as you feel like it. Lord ! I guess this is
a free country, an' a man can look fur the devil if he
wants to."

The others acknowledged the humor of this remark
by a quavering laugh, and dispersed.

THE WINE OF BACA. 107

The dancing went merrily on. Too merrily most of
the ladies soon thought, and in a little while they took
their departure, escorted to their domiciles by their
attendants and cha-perons. Then, such was the effect
•of the wine of Baca and the fiery Mescal, that the
scene in the Assembly room became something in-
describable. The slim walls rocked with the blows
of heavy feet that fell upon the flimsy floor; the
rafters shook and the lamps burned dim. Up through
the splintered boards still came the smoke,
the heat, and the odors from the Dew Drop bar
beneath. The noise slowly grew fainter below, as one
by one the celebrants, overcome by the fiery potions,
sank helplessly down to the floor and slumbered in
their awkward positions. One by one they fell, until
not a soul sat upright to maintain the power of mind
over spirits. Most proud would the two Dons have
been could they then have seen how faithfully their
friends were rejoicing with them. Proud also would
have been the young Placide and his blushing Maria
Dolores, could they have seen the Dew Drop then.

Up stairs but four still kept their feet ; the rest
snored noisily. Off in obscure meekness, in one corner,
sat the little old man, his small eyes closed to the
smoke and shadows ; for he too slept. Out on the
floor were four booted and spurred rancheros, hard-
headed and well-balanced, who showed but little the
worse for their merriment. They were tripping a jig
to a fantastic measure, and the music was making des-
perate, though ineffectual efforts to keep up with them.
Away they went, their heels rattling noisily and their
spurs tinkling merrily. While they were thus occupied a

108 THE WEDDING AT PUEETA DA LUNA.

second stranger appeared in the doorway. The dancers
were too busy to notice him, and so failed to perceive
the two pistols he carried, one in each hand. He was
appearantly not over twenty years old, smooth-faced,
short and thick-set. He was dressed in the garb of
the country ; his light grey eyes glistened in the
smoky light, and his thin, compressed lips showed
he was what Rube called a " nervy little cuss." For a
moment he surveyed the scene from the door, then ad-
vancing towards the centre of the room, and halting be-
fore the dancers, said quietly :

" Reckon you'd better throw up your hands, gents."

The dancers stopped instantly ; they were sober
enough to know what the outcome would be if they
resisted. Besides, in compliance with a request of
Don Selso's, they had left their pistols at the bar, and
so were unarmed and helpless. They quietly held up
their hands and stood there in a row.

" I'm sorry to trouble you gents," continued the
stranger, apologetically ; " specially as we're unac-
quainted, an' I hope you wont think me rude. If the
fellers down stairs had panned out anythin' like, I'd
never hev come near ye, fur I know ez well ez anyone
there's a time fur work an' a time fur play. But I
never see just such a pauper outfit as they was ; I aint
made enough to buy a drink, an' so, if you'll ex-cu&&
me, I shall hev to ax you to be so kind."

When the stranger had accepted the various offer-
ings thus forced upon him, he found himself in pos-
session of nearly two hundred dollars, and three gold
watches.

MUKPEK. 109

" Really gents, " he said, with a polite little bow,
•" you're men after me own heart. You are rich,
well-mannered, an' open-handed. You'll be pleased
to know that this little contribution of yours will be
used to endow an orphan asylum — an' the little
orphans will pray for you every night, which will be
be very gratifyin', I'm sure." The four victims
were silent, Rube Friday alone showing by a
.grimace his vexation of spirit. " Perhaps, now
we've been so intimate and friendly, you'd like to
know my name," the stranger continued. " I'm
pop'larly known as Billy the Kid. See here ! " He
raised his right hand and with his pistol snuffed out
one of the remaining lights. He still kept his victims
in control by holding the other pistol in his left hand,
pointed straight at them.

The old man, who had been dozing in the dark cor-
ner all this time, was awakened by the shot, and
•catching sight of the stranger as he stood fronting the
four men, ran wildly toward him, shouting : " Willie !
Willie ! " All were startled, none more than the rob-
ber, at seeing this strange figure in the obscure light.
He hesitated an instant, but with four resolute,
angry men behind him he dared not pause, a delay
might be fatal; besides, in the dim, smoky room,
he did not recognize the stranger. With a light-
ning gesture, he raised his pistol and the old
man fell to the floor — dead. Quick as a flash — for
it was all over in a second — he faced the four again,
and covering them with a revolver in each hand,
backed to the door, and bowing there, said : "Good
night, gents ; " then with a third shot he extinguished

110 THE WEDDING AT PUEKTA DA LUNA.

the last light, and the room was in darkness. A
moment later the sound of galloping hoofs was
heard as he rode off.

It took but a very little time for the four men to
reach the open air in pursuit. As they ran through
the bar-room they reached behind the bar and took
from the rack, rifles and revolvers. In front of the
saloon, tied to a low railing, were some thirty horses,
all saddled and bridled, and on four of these the
men quickly mounted. The moon was still shining
brightly, and objects on the white sands of the desert
were distinguishable at a great distance.

Placidly as ever flowed the Rio Pecos, its gleaming-
sand bars looking whiter than usual, and down toward
the river was visible the figure of the robber, riding
rapidly.

" The cuss has shot his father, the old man, dead,
an' got away with my watch," said Rube, as he pressed
his horse into a hard gallop ; " an' he'll hev to swing
fur it, I'm thinkin', if there's any justice in Porty de-
Luny."

" He's makin' fur th' river," said Hank Pennel,
who had been watching him closely."

" "Well, he'd better look out how he crosses 'long
here," said Jim Pardee, the third rider.

"Boggy?"

" Boggy as hell !"

Doggedly the four kept after the one. He had a
long start and a better horse, and he gained on them
perceptibly. His brain too, was clearer than theirs,
for he had not been drinking. He rode diagonally
toward the river, aiming to reach it about a mile below

IN THE QUICKSAND. Ill

the town. Once on its banks, he did not hesitate, but
dashed boldly in for the other side. He had gotten
about half way across ; the water was up to his horse's
shoulder, when suddenly the animal stopped, reared
slightly, then struggled furiously as it slowly sank
under, caught in the treacherous quicksands of the
river. The instant the rider perceived the plight of
his horse, he slipped out of the saddle into the water,
and started to wade across, mercifully sending a bul-
let into the horse's brain before he left its side.
The water rose to his breast, but there was no current,
and he pushed boldly forward, holding his rifle and
pistols above his head. But he too had taken but a
few steps when his footing slipped away from him,
and he found himself gripped in the sand and slowly
sinking. Down, down he went ; struggle as hard as
he might, it was all the same ; he was fast and helpless.
He felt the cool water creep up on his breast, little by
little ; now it touched his shoulder — now his throat —

Just at this moment his four pursuers dashed up,
and halted at the edge of the stream. The head of
the robber was plainly visible above the water, upon
which the moonlight fell so that its reflections lit up
his eyes until they glowed phosphorescently.

" "What'll we do now ? " said Jim to the others. "I
could pitch a rope over him an' snake him out in no
time, if you say so. Shall I ? "

" It don't seem to me ez if 'twas policy," said Rube
slowly, " we shall hev to hang him anyhow, an' it'll
save trouble in buryin' him, an' make a neater job all
round if we let him slide." Then raising his voice
he said, " Say you ! we was goin' to hang you when

112 THE WEDDING AT PUEETA DA LUNA.

we ketched you, but we've concluded to let you off
this time. No thanks ! you're quite welcome ! "

The only answer the doomed man made to this was
to level the pistol he still held above his head, and
fire. The ball whistled close to Rube's shoulder.

" As ungrateful a cuss as ever I seen," Rube mut-
tered, " but game."

He was clear game. He never uttered a sound,
but silently waited his inevitable death. Little by
little he sank ; the water rose past his mouth, past
his nostrils — his eyes; then a few bubbles —

Mechanically and in awed silence, a little over-
come by what they had done, the four men rode back
to the town. The dawn was faintly showing in the
east, and the moonlight was slowly growing yellow as
the day drew near. As they pulled up in front of
the Dew Drop and dismounted, Rube suddenly
slapped his hand on his pocket and exclaimed :

" Sold, I swear ! He's got my watch."

The river still rolls on, silent and yellow ; the air
above its white sand-bars still quivers in the heat; but
there is nothing to mark the grave of the desperado,
and his only funeral oration was Rube's remorseful
reflection.

VIII. OK W4TCE WITH THE NIGHT HERD.

The day had been one of hard work, for we had
picked up many cattle that morning, " on circle," and
the afternoon had been most busily spent in branding
and sorting the herd. There were five wagons in the
Round-up party ; thirty-seven men all told, and two
hundred and fifty-six horses. When we came to clean
up the herd at sunset we found that there were near-
ly three thousand head of cattle that had to be guard-
ed and watched all night.

The life of a cowboy is one of constant hardship
and peril. He is in the saddle, riding a vicious horse,
from sunrise to sunset, and often stands guard two
hours of the night besides. He eats beef, fried in
lard and cooked until it resembles a dried leaf. He
is supplied with the yellowest imaginable doughy bis-
cuits, and the water he drinks is often so bitterly alka-
line as to be nauseating. During the day he suffers
from the heat and lack of food and drink ; during the
night from the cold and wet. The little time he has
for sleep he often spends in a pool of water, for his
bed is made in the open air with the sky for a roof.
He is as completely isolated from the world as if he
were on a remote island ; he knows nothing of what
is happening in civilization, and fortunately doesn't
care. He is exposed to constant danger of life and

(113)

114 ON WATCH WITH THE NIGHT HEED.

limb ; associates with rough men ; hears hard talk and
sees wild deeds. Is it a wonder then that the cow-
boy has acquired a reputation for reckless disregard
for his own and other people's lives ? The very exis-
tence he leads obliges him to be indifferent to danger,
and removed as he is from many of the restraints of
law and society, he is very apt to go to an extreme.
The riders are sometimes men who have been unable
to live in law-abiding communities,and have gone to the
frontier to escape the restraints of civilization. These
men may prosper at first, but never for long. For a
time they act the part of the bully and bravo with
great success, but some day they are sure to meet their
fate — personified in some-quiet spoken, mild-mannered
man — who gets the " drop on them " and brings them
up with a round turn and a short shrift.

The captain of a Round-up party has great
powers placed in his hands, and the man who occupies
that position must be naturally fitted to command.
He should know the cattle business from A to Z.
Moreover, he must be perfectly familiar with the
country through which the Round-up is to work, for
much depends on him whether the land is carefully
searched for the cattle, since a knowledge of the water-
ing-places is of the utmost importance. He must
have good executive abilities, and be possessed of firm-
ness joined to good temper. He is invested with al-
most autocratic powers, and while he certainly has not
the legal right to put anyone to death, there are
many instances known where men have been tried
before him for gross crimes — murder or cattle-stealing
— convicted, sentenced, and executed.

EVENING. 115

By a territorial law no man is allowed to carry a
pistol on the Round-up, and the reasons for this are
obvious. In the first place it is quite unnecessary for
any one's personal safety that he should be armed.
In the second place, the men being all quick tempered,
are very apt to resent with pistols — if they are armed
— some slight grievance, that otherwise they would let
pass, or settle with a rough-and-tumble fight. In the
third place, the life of the Round-up renders the re-
volver dangerous to the owner himself, because of the
liability to accidents.

After supper, the eating of which takes an incredi-
bly short time, pipes are lit and the men have their
short loafing time. Some play cards; some rnend their
clothes or harness ; some even wrestle or spar a little,
though not very actively, for there is not a rider who
is not dead tired, though not one would willingly ad-
mit it. Here a musically inclined cowboy is playing
a fiddle or accordion to a group of listeners, who now
and then interrupt him to call for some favorite air.
There is a group discussing some event of the day.
The great staple of conversation is the horse, though
one hears much about saddles, bridles, boots,slickers and
spurs. Every man has some hobby about an outfit and
likes to ventilate it.

" What party is the L J Bar wagon workin' with
this spring ? " you hear one man ask.

" They're with the Fort Summer Round-lip, workin'
north."

" Is Dutch Jake ridin' with them now ? "

" Naw ! th' old man bounced him ; said he used to

116 ON WATCH WITH THE NIGHT HERD.

stampede the herd tryin' to talk United States — and
he wouldn't have him round."

The humor of this remark is received with a light
laugh, and it is a specimen of much of the talk.

It is at this time of the day that the picturesque
side of the cowboy's life is seen. The heavy wagons,
with their white canvass covers, are drawn up in a
row at the edge of the stream, and around them are
grouped the men. They are all young, some even
boyish-looking (I never saw an elderly cowboy), but
they have sinewy, well-knit frames, and fresh, open
faces. At seven o'clock, the first guard of two men
goes on duty. Their business is to picket the herd
that is drawn up a few hundred feet from camp, and
their watch extends until ten o'clock, when they are
relieved. By eight the beds of the men are stretched
out near the wagons, and before many minutes the
•camp is asleep, each man wrapped in a heavy tar-
paulin to keep off the dew and rain. The horses
that are to be ridden later by the reliefs are tied near
at hand, with saddles loosely cinched in place. In
front of the captain's wagon hangs a lantern, the only
light allowed after night-fall.

When I turned in at 8:30 it was not dark, but a few
stars had appeared overhead, and it bade fair to be a
pleasant night. I expected to watch in the third re-
lief, from 12 to 2, and as I was a green hand I was
simply to ride as a companion to the regular guard.
It seemed as if I had been asleep but ten minutes when
I felt myself roughly shaken, and a voice shouted in
my ear :

THE THIED BELIEF. 11 T

" Third relief ! git up, pardner ! "

I was brim full of sleep and it was hard work wak-
ing up, but when I had my eyes fairly open, I hastily
pulled on my boots, buckled up my spurs, slipped on
my coat and hat, and picking up my bridle out of iny
bed, stumbled over to my pony, already saddled. I
quickly fastened the bridle over his head and tightened
the cinches, and had just finished this when my com-
panion appeared out of the gloom, on his horse.

"Keady?"he asked.

My answer was to mount, and the next moment we
were riding out into the darkness, in the direction of
the herd. The night was as black as a pocket ; heavy
clouds had rolled up and shut out the stars, and there
was a feel of rain in the air.

" Got yer slicker by ye ? " asked Rube, my com-
panion.

" Yes," I told him.

A slicker is an oil cloth coat, made for horsemen,,
and so constructed as to completely cover the person
of the wearer and his saddle. It is usually carried
tied to the can tie, ready for use at all times, for dur-
ing the round-up season in New Mexico, it rains nearly
every day.

We paused to catch the sound of the restless cattle,,
and rode on again when we had located this. On
reaching the herd we found the guard, relieved itr
and then began our watch. There were three of u&
" on " that night ; the two regular men and myself.
For the sake of the society, I rode with Rube, and a&
we circled round the herd he sang merrily. He had
a long repertory of words, all fitted conveniently to

118 ON WATCH WITH THE NIGHT HERD.

the same sounds, but his favorite verse sounded some-
thing like this :

" O der sling-iling — O der sling-Hung, fur hatz pun ahoy !
Aus ler opree — scouse ler dopee,
Dum blitz her adoy."

" That's German," said he complacently, after he
had repeated it a good many times. " You all us got
to sing to the cattle in the night, fer if they didn't
hear you comin' you might skeer a skittish heifer into
stampedin', by ridin on to her sudden."

And Rube roared out again :

"Aus les opree — scouse ler dopee,
Dum blitz her adoy,"

till I expected to hear the herd rush away into the
night.

Hound and round them we went. It was pitch
dark, and the wind from the north came piping up
with a cool dampness in it that foretold a storm.

It blew in clouds the dust into which the many thou-
sand hoofs had ground the red clay, and sent it sting-
ing into our faces, the alkalai making our throat and
eyes smart painfully. The cattle, which had been ly-
ing down and quietly reposing, became restless and
surged now this way, now that, as some impatient
animal urged its way out from the centre of the mass.
And dark ! it was never so dark before or since, I be-
lieve. Certainly it could never be darker.

" Gurus sort of feel, aint it, hearin' all them cattle
breathin' ? " says a voice by my side. It is my com-
panion, and though I can almost touch him, I can not
see him.

119

" Truly," I say, " it sounds a little like the noises
of the sea ; it makes one feel quite lost out here, en-
veloped in the vast, impenetrable blackness of the
night."

Eeuben coughs slightly. He evidently thinks my
language is above my business, but he merely remarks
that the night is a " Caution." Just then his horse
makes a quick jump away from the herd and I fancy
I can see .the white form of a cow that has slipped out
from the bunch, searching for her calf, which she has
lost. Away she goes across the prairie, and Rube
after her and I after him. She keeps her lead for a
few yards and then he catches her; she doubles,
twists and turns, but the smart little pony follows
every movement and slowly heads her back into the
herd. Time and again she tries to break away, but
as often as she does she is met and turned, and at last,
trots back with the other cattle, Rube muttering as he
rejoins me that, for " cussed contrariness he'd like to
have someone show him something to beat a cow, 'less
it was a woman, and yet where the difference was he
couldn't for the blessed life of him see."

I privately suspect that Reuben has had the best
impulses of a confiding heart cruelly betrayed, at
some time or other; he seems to be very bitter,
and to take it out of the cow at every opportunity.

We resume our tiresome ride round and round the
herd, and as we pass the other guard we exchange
a few words.

" Herd blamed uneasy to-night," says one voice.

"Dredful ! /reckon we're going to have a storm,"
replies the other voice.

120 ON WATCH WITH THE NIGHT HEED.

"/ex-pect! Got half a mind to call the cap'n; guess
better hold on a little though," and we drift apart in
the darkness and continue our patrol. Half a dozen
times does Rube ride away at full speed after some
truant cow, and each time does he drive her back,
" cussin' " her obstinacy. The cattle are getting more
and more restless.

" Don't like the looks of things — not in the least,"
he says at last. " The herd is actin' like as if the
storm was plum here." As he speaks a flash in the
west lights up the sc6ne for an instant, and then comes
the low, bass rumble of the thunder. At once we
hear another sound, nearer at hand and more unearthly.
It is the cattle which, startled by the coming storm
they have long been dreading, are now upon their
feet, alert and anxious. Suddenly, almost without
warning, a wild steer makes a dash for liberty and in-
stantly the whole herd — with a rush that shakes the
earth — are off in a mad stampede. It is as irresist-
ible as a tidal wave. We are caught in the fearful
panic and hurried along, helpless. Our position is
one of deadly peril. Surrounded by wild animals,
which we cannot see, pressed on all sides by their
hot flanks, our safety depends entirely upon our horses.
Should they stumble, or we become unseated, we
should be instantly trampled to death by the sense-
less brutes, whose headlong flight momently increases
their terror. This is the greatest danger the cowboy
is exposed to, and many a stalwart fellow has been
thus killed in a night stampede.

By spurring hard to the front of the herd, by
shouting and yelling and a vigorous use of the lash, we

OUT ON THE PEAIRIE. 121

succeed in slowly checking them, but not until after
they have run a mile or more, and not until we have
lost many stragglers out of the bunch. The storm is
rapidly approaching ; the lightning is frequent ; the
thunder incessant ; the' cattle wildly uneasy. As
each report tears the air into shreds, we can hear them
answer it with convulsive movements or low bellowings.

" I reckon we'll hev to hev 'em out, Rube," comes
to us out of the darkness ; " we can't begin to
hold 'em, an' they'll be all over God's creation in an
hour at this rate."

" I guess that's so, though I hate to do it," says
Rube regretfully. Then to me : " Pardner, wont
you ride into camp an' tell the old man the facts in
the case."

And so I start. Two miles or more away I can see
a spark, looking like a tiny star. This is the lantern
in front of the captain's wagon, and touching my
weary broncho with the steel I ride toward it. It is a
singular sensation and a novel one, out there in the
pitch dark night, a cold wind blowing rain and thun-
der from the north. Behind me is a herd of three
thousand wild cattle, churning and crowding, and con-
trolled by only two men. In front is space, with the
single star to guide me forward.

But it was hardly the time for reverie, for I could
hear the rain as it came sweeping over the plains. I
dashed into camp and rode straight to the captain's
wagon. I didn't have to tel1 him what the trouble
was, for no sooner did he hear the rain and thunder
than he was up and dressed, booted, spurred and coat-
ed. He hurried toward his pony, shouting, " Horses !

122 ON WATCH WITH THE NIGHT HEED.

Horses ! " The effect was magical. Where before
had lain sleeping men, covered with white tarpaulins,
now appeared hurrying forms, groping for boots, hats
and bridles. The cooks lit their lanterns and re-
plenished the fires, and in three minutes a dozen men
were mounted and on the way to the relief. I rode
with them, as it was supposed that I knew the location
of the herd, but we should never have found it but
for the vivid lightning, that lit up the scene, and
now and then disclosed the low, black shadow of the
cattle.

All the rest of the night we guarded them. Rain !
How it did rain ! Every man wore his " slicker," but
this was soon wet through. My heavy sombrero,
which when dry was as hard as a board, grew limp and
flabby, and hung around my face dejectedly. The
rain streamed from my hat, my coat, my boots, until
I looked like a broken water-pipe with the head full
on. By daylight the storm ceased and we were or-
dered back to camp, the wettest, f orlornest looking
group imaginable. The herd then was over three
miles from the wagons, the stampede and the storm
having carried them that far ; for cattle drift before
the wind much as a disabled vessel does at sea.

IX. DON QUIXOTE DE SANTA ROSA.

He certainly was an odd one — that is, if a fancied
resemblance to Cervantes' hero, modernized, can be
;said in any way to constitute eccentricity.

It was down on the Pecos that Captain Dick Hosier
ftrst met and adopted him. Captain Dick was rid-
ing over from the X Bar X ranch to the Barzee, of
which he was the general manager, one pleasant morn-
ing in October, and had just reached the ford by the
Laberde grant, intending to cross the river, when up-
on the opposite bank he spied a stranger. A citizen
•of New Mexico approaches his fellow man with cau-
tion. Almost the first thing an acquaintance with
the best society in that country teaches him is
narrowly to inspect a chance comrade, and to loosen
his pistol in its holster when coming within range.
And so, before starting his horse into the water,
Oaptain Dick had a look at the man across the stream.

The two were not very far apart — fifty yards or so,
for the Pecos was not wide there — and at that distance
Dick saw that the other was a tall, gaunt man of about
Hfty. His face was partly hidden behind a thin,
scraggly beard, that grew randomly out of a dark,
sun-burnt skin ; a tangled forest of hair hung from his
chin, while his cheeks were like the open prairie, with
only an occasional sage-brush spear to break the

(123)

124 DON QUIXOTE DE SANTA EOS A.

smooth monotony. The narrowness of his face was
accentuated by two small eyes, set in close to either
side of a thin, pointed nose; and his head-covering still
further exaggerated this effect, for in place of the
customary sombrero he wore a small, knit skull-cap*
that fitted tight to his head. This cap had once been
black, but the sun and the rain had faded it until it
had become a rusty brown, and so nearly the color
of his clayey hair that at a glance he appeared to be
bare-headed. Altogether the first impression he
created was his resemblance to a straight line — length
without breadth or thickness. But he seemed harm-
less enough, and Captain Dick started to cross the
river, giving his broncho a needless touch with the steel
to hasten him. The stream was high and the current
swift, and although the horse was stout and sure-footed,
he found it no light task to breast the flood. Half
way over the water rose above the stirrups, and Dick
loosed his feet and sat cross-legged on the saddle.
When at length he reached the bank, and halted there
a moment, the stranger gravely saluted him, and said
slowly :

"Mornin' Cap— it's 'bout 'leven o'clock, ain't it?"
A nearer view disclosed several things that Dick
had not noticed before — his dress for one thing. A
ragged, faded velveteen jacket ineffectually covered
the upper part of his person, while his lower limbs
were cased in a pair of heavy leather " shapps." They
had evidently been made for a much shorter man
than their present owner, for there was a yawning gap
between the lower ends and the deer-skin moccasins
that covered his feet. He was armed cap-a-pie, with a

HIS ARMOR. 125

Winchester carbine over his shoulder, a heavy
•Colt's revolver (45) and knife at his waist, and enor-
mous rusty spurs, with jingling chains, on his feet.
His saddle had once been a gorgeous affair of stamped
leather, with silver trimmings, one a grandee might
have used ; but now it was tattered and torn, hopeless-
ly beyond respectability. The leather was worn away
in huge patches and the naked wood of the tree ap-
peared unblushingly in sight. The horse matched the
saddle and the rider. Altogether the stranger looked
like a bandit who had been unfortunate in business,
yet his smile was cherubic in its sweetness.

"If you're goin' to Santy Rosy we might ride
'long together," he said in a mild voice, and although
Dick much preferred to go alone, he assented, and
they rode on.

" I heard tell down to the Cross-circle-diamond
ranch that they was wan tin' a cook up to the Barzee,"
the stranger said slowly, " so I just pulled my freight
to strike the job. Know if it's so ? "

" Yes, it is so,' Dick answered; " I'm from the Barzee
myself. Can you cook ? "

" Yes,'' he said slowly ; "I kin cook, if you aint
'too pertickler. I aint fond o' cookin' but I Tcin do it.
I kin fry beef, make a tol'able sallyratus biscuit an' a
middlin' fair pie outen most anythin'. But I aint
enjoyed cookin' much since I reformed.

" I used to be as bad as any of 'em," he continued,
leaving Dick in some doubt as to whether he referred
to his cooking or his morals, " but I seen th' error of
my way 'an stopped on the brink. I got religion,"
— he spoke of it as if it were an article he had pur-

126 DON QUIXOTE DE SANTA KOSA.

chased — " I got religion with a feller I was herdm*
sheep with down on the Gallinas, four year ago. He
let me into the ways of the righteous an' I'm walkin'
in the straight path now an' forevermore. Leastways,,
I'm walkin' when I aint ridin'," he added solemnly
and accurately.

They soon reached Santa Rosa. Captain Dick had
to stop there a short time on business with the black-
smith and the harness maker (the two were one in
Santa Rosa), and so, riding up in front of the Maver-
ick Inn, he dismounted. His new friend called after
him : " I reckon I'll just nachally wait 'round till you
come out, an' look over the sights."

A half hour later Dick walked out to his horse,,
drawing on his gloves preparatory to mounting, and
then discovered that his new companion had a weak-
ness. In the language of Gov. Walker, "he was-
gellorious." He had employed his half-hour well,,
and he stood at that moment leaning heavily against a
post and singing in lugubrious and wavering tones :

" Touched with a sympathy within,
How weak our feeble frame. "

Dick was puzzled at first to know what to do with
him. He had previously determined to take him to-
the ranch, for he did need a cook there, yet when he
saw his condition he hesitated. Not just because the
man was drunk — looking from a moral standpoint —
but because, being drunk, he was difficult of transpor-
tation. But Dick knew that a cowboy can often ride
when he cannot walk ; so with a little assistance he-
rolled the stranger into his saddle and the two started.
For the first few miles they proceeded on a walk ;.

127

then as the stranger grew slightly sober, and his
seat in the saddle became more assured, they broke
into a trot and were riding at this gait when, making
a sudden turn in the road, around the point of a mesa,
they came upon a herd of burros, driven by three
Mexicans ; two boys and an old man. These hurriedly
scattered out of the way, and as the two riders rattled
by, the old man saluted them with a respectful :

" Buenos dias, senores ! "

They had passed them but a few yards when Dick's
companion pulled up, and turning to him, said with
drunken gravity :

" Did ye see tha' Greaser make face 't me ? He
'suit me an' I'm goin' t' rebuke 'im," and he unslung
his rifle.

" No, no ! he didn't make a face at you" Dick said,
endeavoring to quiet him ; " that was at me"

" Thas all ri', but aint you goin' t'ave sas'fas'hun ? "

" No, not now ; to-morrow, perhaps."

" Thas' all ri', but you're my frien' an' goo' f 'ler, an'
I'll 'ave sas'fas'hun for you," and before Dick could
stop him the stranger threw his rifle to his shoulder
and fired. It was a chance shot, of course, but it was
a true one, and down went the old man and the burro
he was riding, both apparently dead. The avenger of
his honor looked smilingly at Dick, and then at his
victims, lying in the dust, and said pleasantly : " Th'
man t' wont do that fur fren aint worth' name o'
man. How's that fur a shot, eh ? "

Dick was seriously alarmed, for not only did he
realize the sin of killing an unarmed man — even in
New Mexico — but he knew the fellow-countrymen of

128 DON QUIXOTE DE SANTA ROSA.

the victim would work reprisals on him by stealing his
stock and annoying his men in every possible way.
And he was still more disturbed when he saw his
companion preparing to shoot again.

" Hold on ! " he cried, "you've killed him ; that's
enough ; you'd better get out of here now as quick as
you can."

" Killed him all ri', on'y he aint th' one. Here goes
fur 'nother — wash th' lill f'ler jump," and Dick had
just time to strike up the muzzle of the rifle when it
was discharged again. Then, in desperation, he seized
his companion's bridle, and facing him down the road,
laid his "cuert" smartly over the horse's back, and in an-
other moment they had rattled out of sight around a
turn in the road. It afterward turned out that the
burro was killed b ut the Mexican was unhurt beyond
a very bad fright.

That evening the men sat around the fire in the
bunk-room at the ranch house, talking and passing
the time as usual. The new arrival had been installed
as cook, with a monthly compensation of forty dollars
and Aboard, and he was at that moment in the kitchen
attending to his duties. Jim Carroll — the foreman, who
was popularly believed to possess fine literary acquire-
ments, shamefully wasted in cow-punching, was quite
taken with the cook's appearance and with Captain
Dick's adventure of the morning, and he declared that
henceforth the new comer should be known as Don
Quixote de Santa Rosa, which name was adopted by
acclamation and promptly shortened to Don.

"Still I can't make him out," said Reuben Friday ;
" not in the least ; he says he's a worker in the vine-

HIS MANNER OF SPEECH. 129

yards an' he's gone to cookin' to help out, but / think
he's a stray from the Eio Grandy ; Maverick maybe,
fur I don't see no brand on him."

"No, he aint a Maverick," said Bill Coleman, "fur
he told me he belonged to the Band of Hope outfit,
and was out lookin' over the range, roundin' up. I
reckon he hadn't better make any con verts in our herd ;
some folks might think he was stealin' cattle."

Day by day the men learned to like the Don. He
had such a modest way about him ; he was never
blustering, never profane, but always quiet and cheer-
ful. He was not didactic or puritanical, but he had
a singular habit of interspersing scriptural selections
through his conversations that at first was very puz-
zling to the men. He did this without the slightest
notion of the incongruity or of the unpleasant effect it
had on some, for he did it all in a deeply reverent way.
He never drank again, and was deeply mortified at his
one unfortunate lapse. It is true he could not cook —
true indeed, that he made worse failures than any
cowboy ever made before — but somehow no one could
find fault with him.

" Them biscuits hev got consid'able sallyratus in
Jem, I expect," he used to say, apologetically, as he
daily laid a pan of heavy, saffron-colored lumps of
dough on the table, " but it seems to take a heap of it
t' operate on this flour. I cal'late there's four parts
sallyratus to three of flour — fear ye not death — but
you won't mind it with a little raw onion and plenty
o' salt."

His mode of cooking beef too, was darkly mysteri-
ous. There would appear on the table, three times a

130 DON QUIXOTE DE SANTA EOSA.

day, a dingy, blackened pan, filled with a something
or other, floating in melted grease, and as the Don laid
it down he would smile benevolently, seeming to say
that no one could guess what that contained, not if he
were to try a week.

" Th' foundation fur it is fried beef," he would say,
" but there is other things in it fur to give it twang
— I bring ye tidings of joy — such as chopped pertaters
an' pork. It's got consid'able nourishment into it,
though it don't look so very good."

One day there was great excitement at the Barzee —
the Don had been there about four months then — for a
neighbor rode up and reported that there was to be a
dance the next night at the " Widder Davis's," four
miles up Los Tanos.

"The " Widder " was the relict of the late Jim
Davis, who came to an untimely end some five years
before by reason of his pistol's missing fire. Besides
the "Widder, Davis had left behind him a son and a
daughter. They had prospered, and by shrewd and
careful management of what the old man had be-
queathed them, had become possessed of a fair ranch
and a bunch of seven hundred cattle. The son was a
harum-scarum fellow, even for a cow-puncher ; the
Widder was admitted to be a Rustler. As for the
daughter — Mirandy — she was the belle of San Miguel
County. Few who saw her could resist her fascinations.
She was none of your sickly wee things ; that kind
does not flourish on the frontier. No, Mirandy was
"stout, strong and handsome withal." And yet,
frontier born and bred though she was, she had all the
coquettish ways that some think are only acquired by

MIRANDY. 131

a society training, but which are in truth as much a
part of woman's make-up as her back hair. It was a
liberal education to see Mirandy modestly drop her eye-
lids when one of her admirers was touching on dan-
gerous ground, or to hear her say, " Get along now
Bill, or I'll lam ye," and to note the stalwart cuff she
administered to Bill, if he attempted to steal a kiss.
Admirers she had by the score, suitors by the dozen,
but never an accepted lover among them all. She was-
believed to be heart whole and fancy free, a condition
which added an indefinable charm to her society.

Of course such an event as a dance was hailed with
pleasure, and every one at once made ready. There
was a greasing of boots and a polishing of spurs and
a dusting of clothing all that day and the next. The
time for starting was impatiently waited, but at last it
came, and the party was off — a cavalcade of six, in-
cluding the Don. The dance did not differ greatly
from the usual affairs of that kind. No one was shot,
no one was even physically hurt ; but there was one of
the party who was apparently wounded in a serious
way. I refer to the Don and the Don's very suscepti-
ble heart. The attentions that he lavished upon both
the Widder and Mirandy that night were the cause of
much remark. With what grace did he lead the matron
out on the floor, and take his place at the head of the
reel ; with what a stately bow did he salute her as the
accordion and fiddle struck up Money-musk ; with
what ease and dignity did he guide his buxom partner
down the middle, his huge spurs and chains playing a
jingling accompaniment to the music, and then, when

132 DON QUIXOTE DE SANTA EOSA.

the dance was over, how gallantly did he lead her to a
seat and hurry to get her some negus. To see him
you'd have thought he was a carpet-knight born and
bred, instead of the cook of the Barzee ranch.

And then, when he appealed to Miss Mirandy for
the favor of her hand in the bolero, how cleverly
he showed his versatility. With the dame he had been
dignified ; with the maiden he was as agile and grace-
ful as Jose Garcia, the handsome young Mexican,
said to be the best dancer and the worst liar in San
Miguel County. The other dancers paused to watch
the two as they swayed and pirouetted to the music,
and when at last they stopped, cheered them right
heartily. It would be worth a good deal to you could
you have seen the gallant way in which the Don led
his breathless partner to a seat, and stood by her side,
fanning her with a huge palm leaf that raised such a
breeze in the room as to blow out one of the lights.
And not the worst part of it all either, was to see the
savage scowl that came over Jose Gracia's swarthy
face at finding himself — hitherto the best dancer in
all the county, just beaten by a — cook. The Don
treated Jose's ill humor with the haughty disdain that
it merited — and led out Mirandy to supper.

" It beats all how he kin round-up an' cut out just
the heifer he wants, every time, while we fellers can't
^ven git outen the corral," said one disconsolate wall-
flower, envious of the Don's popularity with the sex.

But the Barzee men were proud to find themselves
so well represented on the floor.

As they rode back to the ranch after the ball was
•over, the Don was the only silent one in the party.

133

He was evidently turning something over in his mind,
and gave no heed to what was said to him, though
Jim Carrol swore that he heard him mutter to him-
self something about maiden's tears and lover's fears,,
and so it was promptly agreed that the Don was in love.

The effect of his new attachment became at
once noticeable in his cooking. Instead of the biscuits
having four parts saleratus to three of flour, the pro-
portion became as five to two. His " Irish stew" de-
generated into something beyond belief or description ;.
his dishes were never washed. " I don't want you
waddys to git too blame finicky — take no thought
'bout what ye shall eat," he explained.

" Look here, Don !" roared Jim one morning, as the
Don absent-mindedly emptied a pot of boiling coffee
on his wrist ; "What d'ye mean ? I aint a cup ! "

'• I know it, Jirnmie, I know it," said the Don
mildly ; " fight ye the good fight — I'll make some more
in a minute," and Jim had to be contented with that
apology.

Every evening after supper the Don would mount
Rozinante and ride away to court his Dulcinea del
Tanos. 'No one ever knew what time he returned, but
he always had breakfast — of a certain kind— ready by
sunrise. He was extremely reticent about his affairs
and gave no hint concerning them, nor could the men
judge from his manner how he prospered. It wasn't
even known whether it was the mother or the daugh-
ter he sought.

" Come, Don " said Eube once, at supper, " we're
old friends, you know, and you ought to tell us. Is
it the Widder or Mirandy ? "

134 DON QUIXOTE DE SANTA EOSA.

The Don merely smiled his pleasant smile and said
softly ; " It's both — all flesh is grass, Reuben," and
that was all they got from him .

(t Pd like to know how he gits along," said one of
the boys one evening, as the Don rode away ; " though
if love an' affection is anyways influenced by sally-
ratus, I reckon he'll get thar, Eli."

"Wai," said Shorty, as he reared his six-foot body
in front of the fire, and faced the party, "If he un-
dertakes to hitch up th' Widder, he wants to cinch
his saddle pretty snug or he'll git throwd. Women
are a queer lot."

It was generally understood that when Shorty spoke
of Women he knew what he was talking about ; he
had been married himself more or less several times,
and his knowledge had been gained by long and bit-
ter experience.

This condition of affairs continued through most of
the winter. Regularly every night the Don rode away
into the darkness, and regularly the next morning he
was to be seen bending over the cracked stove, stirring
round and round his unholy concoctions. He was
never late and his demeanor never varied from day to
day. The only change noticeable about him was that
already mentioned — his cooking — which finally be-
came so bad that even the cowboys objected. Still the
Don received the complaints as if they were words of
praise, and went on his quiet, dogged way, unmoved
and smiling.

But one morning he appeared at breakfast, looking
but the battered wreck of his former self. Dark cir-
cles of black framed his eyes and one was swollen shut.

135

His velveteen jacket was torn up the back and a sleeve
was gone. His right wrist seemed to be sprained and
he limped as he walked. He received the chaffing in
silence.

" Hullo, Don ! " cried Kube ; " what's up ? Widder
must hev bin extry 'fectionate last night."

"It's all along of his bronk, that is," said Shorty.
"He's bin feedin' it some of his cussed sallyratus bis-
cuit on the sly, till the beast got to feelin' so good
it most kicked the head off'n him."

The Don resolutely refused to disclose the cause
of his dilapidated appearance, and went about his du-
ties wearing a piece of raw beef tied over his eye, but
otherwise as if nothing unusual had happened. But
that evening, instead of mounting Rozinante and rid-
ing away, he took his seat by the tire, and briefly told
his story.

" It'll set your minds at rest, maybe, if I tell you
'bout it," he said, " an' so I cal'late to do it. That
night — spell ago — when we went over to the Davis's
to the dance, I was quite took with the looks of Miss
Davis an' Mirandy, an' I says to myself — like as not
you need converting most every one does in this coun-
try— an' for brass will I give you gold, I says ; yea,
much gold, says I. Well, last night a young f 'ler rode
up an' got off'n his hoss an' come in. The Widder
didn't seem to shine to him, but Mirandy called him
Bobby." Here the Don paused and repeated thought-
fully: " Yes, sir, she called him Bobby, right before
my eyes." Then resuming his story: "Well, he
talked a good deal an' acted 's if he owned San Migell
County ; indulgin' freely in ripartee an' other little

136 DON QUIXOTE DE SANTA ROSA.

things, till finally I says : ' My friend, are you lookin'
to be saved ? ' an' then he says, he wasn't thinkin'
about himself, but he reckoned he'd hev to keep his
eye on his hoss, so long as I was about, if he wanted to
save him. Then Mirandy laughed, so I turned to
her an' I says: 4 It would seem as if that young man's
been poorly brought up ; he's a Mexikin, aint he ? '
Well — that's 'bout all I distinctly remember now;
there's a interval in my life where all is naught."
Here the Don made an attempt to smile that was lost
in the swelling of his cheek. u Th' only way you can
be free with any one in this country is to get th' drop
on him. I reckon I won't go there so often, after
this."

And from that day his visits ceased altogether.

Spring came at last, though the transition from win-
ter was so gradual that we should hardly have noticed
the change but for Jim Carrol, whose poetic nature was
stirred by the advent of the new season, and who took
every opportunity to assure us that, " The earth
again is young and fair, ethereal mildness fills the air,
spring, gentle spring smiles on the land, and May
flowers bloom on every hand."

With the warmer weather came the usual work on
the range. More riders were needed, and the Don
was relieved from his duties as cook and sent out to
look up stray cattle. This change in his labors he
hailed with pleasure, although it meant a loss of ten
dollars a month and harder work.

" I've allers held that cookin' warnt no proper busi-
ness fur a white man," he said ; " but I done it —

SPRING WORK. 13T

blessed are the meek— an' it's conquered my pride in
great shape."

Preparations for the Spring Round-up were rapidly
made ; the wagons were examined and repaired ; the
horses were driven up from the pasture and corralled
in a convenient place ; new horses were broken in and
old ones shod. Men were sent out over the range to
examine the watering-places, with orders to pull out
of the boggy ground about them any Barzee cattle that
had become mired and unable to extricate themselves.
These duties were hard and disagreeable, having
neither the excitement nor the social pleasures incident
to a Round-up, but the Don performed his part will-
ingly. One morning he rode away from the ranch with
instructions to examine carefully a certain specified
territory that lay in the west. His route led up Los
Tanos and as he started, Rube, who was preparing to
ride south, called out to him, in unconscious quotation
of Tony Weller : " Beware o' th' Widder, Don!" To
which the Don replied with a wave of his hand :
" Thanks, Reuben — judge ye not others," and disap-
peared around a bend in the stream.

It was the afternoon of the second day of his excur-
sion that found him approaching the Horse- shoe Y 3
ranch. It had been a perfect day in April, that best
of all months in New Mexico. The gramma grass
had exchanged its winter coat of silver for a fresher
one of green ; the few trees that grew along the river
were bright in leaf and blossom. Even the sombre
sage-bush had put off its mournful gray and the cactus
was gorgeous in its yellow flowers. The cattle too
seemed to feel the benign influences of spring, and as
i

138 DON QUIXOTE DE SANTA EOS A.

the Don drew near, hurried helter-skelter across the
vegas, followed in frisky content by their wobbly,
long-legged calves. The prairie-dogs squeaked in their
hundred holes, and here and there a rattlesnake might
be seen, gliding rapidly away on the approach of a
man.

The Don dismounted at the ranch house, and having
unsaddled Kozinante and turned him into the corral,
strode into the bunk-room.

" I'm from the Barzee," he said to one of two oc-
cupants there, " an' I'll put up with ye — the birds of
the air hev nests — 'till to-morrer."

" Well ! " said one of the men, " what's the news
over to the Barzee way ? "

" Nuthin' much ! " said the Don as he took a seat on
a bunk and commenced to whittle.

The two men resumed their interrupted conversa-
tion.

" You was sayin' th' cattle was lookin' well up your
way ? " said one.

" Middlin', though th' old man is growlin' 'bout th'
range gettin' crowded."

" Well, he's 'bout right — more blamed tenderfeet
rushin' in with their Texas cattle, that don't know a
yearlin' from a parara-dog. /say there ought to be
some law 'bout it."

" Guess that's so ! Any strangers 'round here ? "

" Naw, 'ceptin' him," pointing to the Don.

" Him ! Oh, he aint no stranger. He's nothin'
but a graven image. "

The two men chuckled over this remark, which the
Don heard but declined to notice.

NIGHT AT THE KANCH. 139

" Seen Mack lately ? "

" Mack ! yes, week ago. Had the spring fever bad
then ; delerious. Thought I was his grandfather first
an' then swore I was the devil."

" Well, you might hev bin his grandfather all the
same. Mack's got a pecooliar pedigree."

" Haw ! haw ! Well, so long ! I must be gettin'."

" Well, so long ! "

Bed time comes early at a ranch, and there were a
•dozen men packed away in the bunk-room that night,
when Texas, the foreman, shied his spurred boot at
the candle. Yet, although the Don was tired, for he
had ridden far and hard, he could not sleep. He was
dissatisfied with his lot. He had a soul above his
work, and yet he had succeeded in nothing else. He
had always had a lofty ideal in Woman — an ideal that
had been rudely shaken several times, but still stood
upright — and yet he had not been fairly treated by the
sex. There was that little incident at the Widder
Davis's — he still recollected the details of that per-
fectly. Indeed, there were one or two black and blue
spots on his body yet. Still for all that, his chivalrous
regard for Woman — as Woman — was unabated,though
when you came to particularize — well, that was a dif-
ferent matter. He was partially roused from his reverie
by hearing a voice over in the darkest corner of the
room say :

" Wai, Jim was sayin' you punched the feller's head
till he didn't know nothin'."

" Guess I didn't hurt him very much then, fur he
didn't know nothin' afore."

" Haw ! haw ! best ever heard ; must tell Jim that."

140 DON QUIXOTE DE SANTA KOSA.

" Why, the feller called me a Mexikin," said the
second voice ; " I'd a right t' hev pumped lead into
him fur that, hedn't I ? "

" Surely, but Jim was sayin' you called the feller a
hoss-thief."

"Don't recollec' 'bout that. Might 'a done so,'
never could recollec' little things."

" Haw ! haw ! When did you say you was goin' to
run the gal off ? "

" To-morrer, I ex-pec'. She'll be all alone up to the
place. Th' Widder's gone to Yegas and Tom Davis-
well, you know him ? "

"Yes, /know him. So you cal'late to run her off
-to-morrer, when her nat'eral guardeen is away, eh
Bob ? "

" Yes, an' make for Santy Rosy," said Bob. "And
I'd like mighty well if you could be there then, Billy."

The Don saw it all. This was the young man he had
had the trouble with at the Widder's that night last
winter, and now he was going to forcibly abduct
Mirandy in the absence of her mother and brother.
All the chivalry in the Don's nature was roused at
this. He determined to thwart the scheme, and save
the lovely damsel from the clutches of the villain. He
would — his thoughts were again interrupted.

" How was you 'lowin' to do it, if it's a fair question,
Bob ? " said the first voice.

" It surely is. Why, I was just a goin' to put her
on a pony and then dust for Santy Rosy. I figgered
to foller the old overland stage trail, till we come to
the Montezurny Marshes, and then — cross lots. There
is a path over that bog near the spring, that only two

THE PLOT DISCLOSED.

fellers — I and Rube Friday — know — an' I'll save five
mile over follerin' the rud, that way. Shouldn't care
to try it with a female gen'rally, but ez we aint hed
rain in six months I reckon the bog aint very shaky ! "

" Yes, you kin do it, I guess. Well, good night
Bob ! "

" Well, good night Bill ! Say Bill ! "

"Huh!"

"You'd orter been there to the Widder's that night
and seen old Ten Commandments. One^-two — three
— down he went. One — two — three — down again.
Ko guns drawd ; just stan' up an' knock down. Haw!
haw!"

The hurnor of the situation evidently appealed to
Bill as well as Bob, and for some time nothing was
heard but the sound of subdued chuckling.

" Bill Ransom ! " said voice No. 2 at length. " I
want you to be over to Santy Rosy to-morrow at three
o'clock. You're goin' to stand by me, aint you ? "

" You bet I'll be there ; if I aint, I don't want an-
other cent in this world." Silence followed for a
while ; then Bill drew a long sigh and murmured :

" Well, good night Bob ; good luck ! "

" Well, good night, Bill, old boy," and the camp
slept.

Before sunrise next morning the Don left the
Horseshoe Y 3 ^anch. He had passed a sleepless
night thinking over what he had heard, and as he placed
his left foot in the stirrup and mounted Rozinante,
he swore a reverential oath, that, come what might,
Mirandy should be saved. It was true he had not
been well treated, either by the Widder or Mirandy,

142 DON QUIXOTE DE SANTA KOSA.

he told himself again, yet— love yer enemies — he'd heap
coals of fire on their heads, and do them good for
evil. That had been his principle in life, ever since he
reformed. Besides, what man of spirit and honor
could see such an outrage committed and not intef ere ?
Even if the girl were a stranger to him, he could not
do less than shoot the villain, and restore her to her
weeping family. But when she was his heart's-ease —
Mirandy ! Kejoice, for the hour is at hand !

He pulled out his carbine from its holster under his
leg to see if it was all right. And yet, wasn't shooting
too good for a man who would treat a woman as Bob
Green was going to treat Mirandy. Shouldn't he be
hanged ? Then he examined the raw-hide lasso that
hung from his saddle-horn, in painful doubt on thi&
question.

He would intercept the party at the Montezuma
crossing, he told himself, and show Bob Green that
there was one man of honor and courage still left in
San Miguel County. And he'd do the deed single-
handed; perhaps Mirandy would smile upon him a little
for that — perhaps she'd — marry him. B'hold th' bride-
groom cometh — perhaps. His head grew dizzy at
this thought, and he pushed his horse into a hard
gallop and rode out of sight of the ranch.

When the sun rose that morning, it lit up a perfect
day. Here and there on the rolling mesas, stood a
sentinel cactus or pinion, that split up the yellow
light into long lanes that lay softly on the lea. As-
the day grew older and the shadows shorter, one
might have noticed a small, cumulus cloud in the west,
hanging close to the line where land and sky joined.

DOWN LOS TANOS. 143

This cloud grew larger and darker as it sailed up
toward the zenith, and others followed it until the
blue was hidden behind the gray. Then swift zig-
zag streaks of gold darted from one part of the
heaven to another, and dull, rumbling peals of thunder
followed the flashes. There was coming a storm in
April — an extraordinary occurrence in New Mexico.

Down the road that skirted Los Tanos might have
been seen two persons — a man and woman — riding
at full speed. The man sat bolt upright in his sad-
dle— a perpendicular line from his shoulder would
have touched his hip, his knee and his heel, — and he
stuck as close to the leather as if he had been tied
there. Beside him galloped the woman, mounted
upon a spirited chestnut mare, which she rode on a
side-saddle. Upon her head she wore a huge, white
sombrero, tied tightly under her chin, and from be-
neath this her hair had slipped and hung in masses
down her back. Her riding-habit was a long, flowing
skirt of some dark brown material, and her left
foot — although concealed by her dress — carried a
spur, with which she now and then urged her steed
onward. The man looked anxiously up at the sky,
and turning to his companion, said :

" Can't you git a little more outen the mare, Mir-
andy ? We must git across the Montezumy bog afore
the rain comes, if we want to git married this year.
Least bit o' water there '11 make the rud too soft."

" I don't 'low I kin do anythin' better, Bob," said
Mirandy ; " still I'll try." She spurred the mustang
again and again. To each prick of the steel the ani-

144: DON QUIXOTE DE SANTA ROSA.

mal responded with a few vicious jumps, then settled
back again into the lope.

" It's no use, Bob," she said ; " I can't git him
outen this gait."

" Well, we must take our chances then," said Bob.
" We can't turn back now ; the Widder '11 be after
us in two hours with a possy."

Before them stretched the low, flat expanse of the
marsh, extending to the right and left for several
miles. To look at, the surface of the bog appeared
to be a hard crust, baked dry and stiff, and covered
with a white coating of alkali, through which grew
no manner of living plant. So parched had the land
become that it was split and seamed with cracks, that
yawned for moisture. Down through the middle of
this desert flowed the sluggish stream that came
from the Montezuma spring, a curious natural phe-
nomenon, that yielded a water as bitter and heavy as
that of the Dead Sea, yet strange to say, nourished a
row of trees, willow and pine, with here and there a
scaly, narrow-chested cypress, that grew along the
edges of the creek. These trees were the only green
things for miles — the land elsewhere presented a bare,
desolate appearance.

Across this bog there ' was a faint path, which could
be traversed in the dry season ; but once let the crust
become wet, and it turned to a slimy mud, that yielded
to the weight of man or horse, and gripped so tightly
what it seized that self-relief was impossible.

Just before the two riders reached the edge of the
bog, the storm, which had been gathering all the
morning, suddenly burst upon them. Sharp flashes of

ACROSS THE BOG. 145

lightning darted from one black cloud to another, and
loud, rumbling thunder answered the flashes. Then
came the rain. The man hurriedly sprang from his
horse, and untying his slicker, which he had carried
tightly bound to his saddle, wrapped the huge
yellow oil-cloth coat about the girl, and mounting
again, pulled his sombrero down over his face.

" Wai, we got to go on, Mirandy. ~No use stoppin'
here. In half an hour the creek will be up so's we
can't cross anyhow. How's your mare ? Skittish,
least bit ? "

"Wai, yes, special when there's a storm like this
yere."

" Wai, I reckon I'd better slip a hackamore over
her head an' lead her then ; jest give her a loose rein
an' she'll go all right."

Thus they advanced across the bog. The rain
poured down in sheets, as it does in the tropics. The
water soon obliterated the path, and the dry earth
greedily drank up the moisture. The ground grew
softer and softer every moment. Twice Bob's horse
sank to the knees, and once the mare narrowly escaped.
But at length they reached the stream that flowed
through the marsh and gave it its name It was per-
haps fifty feet wide ; shallow, sluggish and evil-look-
ing, with rocky banks that gave refuge to innum-
erable rattlesnakes and lizards. Pausing a moment
on the edge to assure himself that his companion was
all right, Bob started to ride into the creek.

"Don't you f oiler me, Mirandy," he said, "till I
pull on th' tug ; this bottom 's nasty long here, special
since this rain begun."

146 DON QUIXOTE DE SANTA ROSA.

All this time the Don had been concealed in ambush
a few yards off, and dripped disconsolately in the rain
which was falling. He had reached his present posi-
tion with great difficulty. The trail across the bog
was quite unknown to him, and he had been obliged
to dismount and lead his horse. The storm that
followed had washed out his tracks, and prevented
those who came after from suspecting his presence.
He was too far away to hear what Bob said to Mirandy,
but he could see her sad face — her eyes seemed big
with tears — and her long brown hair that hung down
her back, resting in wet masses on the yellow slicker,
gave her the look of some lovely martyr maiden, in
the grasp of a vicious giant. He burned to distin-
guish himself ; to rescue helpless virginity from the
power of the monster. Not only was here an inno-
cent female being carried off by force, but she was
his innamorata — the Dulcinea del Tanos — whom he
had so long worshiped, silently but faithfully.

He watched Bob ride into the stream ; he saw his
horse lifted off its feet and carried down by the flood
current ; he saw him recover a foot-hold again ; then he
heard Bob shout to Mirandy : " Go back ! go back ! "
and he realized that the horse was fast in the bog —
for Bob was cutting him right and left with his heavy
riding-whip, while the animal was churning the water
into suds in his frantic efforts to escape.

]STow was the Don's chance. There was the wicked
monster, helpless to harm his Dulcinea, whilst here
was he, her savior, free and unfettered. So touching
Kozinante with his heel, he dashed out from behind
the chapparal, and rode straight at Mirandy. She

TO THE RESCUE. 147

gave a little scream when she saw him coming ; it was
not like Mirandy to indulge in such a feminine weak-
ness, but just then her nerves were quite upset. The
Don endeavored to reassure her. " Fear not maiden —
fly with me. I will save you," he said, and he laid
his hand upon her bridle rein.

" Halt ! " cried a voice.

The Don looked up and his eye caught sight of a
shining object, that seemed suspended in the air with-
out support, like the coffin of Mahomet. It appeared
to occupy space to the exclusion of everything else,
for the Don could see nothing beside the sinister look-
ing weapon, except the more sinister eye of Bob, that
glistened behind it.

He saw it was a pistol, and although he showed no
emotion, he mentally raved at his own rashness.
He had stupidly put his head into the lion's mouth ;
Bob had got the drop on him with a 45, at ten yards.
A nice predicament truly, for one who wished to
appear well before Mirandy.

" What you monkeyin' 'bout here fur ? " asked Bob
sternly, and his gray eyes looked wicked as he
snapped out his words. " Put yer hands up — put 'em
up, I say ! "

The Don reluctantly obeyed. It was a most hu-
miliating position for a knight like himself to be
placed in — just as he was about to rescue his own
Dulcinea — but what could he do ? He was not afraid,
he was simply yielding to circumstances — and Bob's
persuasive air and six-shooter — when he raised his
hands and sat there on Rozinante, dripping from
every angle.

14:8 DON QUIXOTE DE SANTA ROSA.

Bob studied the situation a moment. " What hed
we better do, Mirandy ? " he asked. " I've a notion
to turn my 45 loose into him — fur mixin' himself up
in fam'ly affairs. How'd he get here, anyway ? "

" Better get outen that quag first, Bob," said
Mirandy with great good sense ; " you kin shoot him
most any time."

" That's 'bout so, I guess. Look here, you," he said
to the Don, "what you hangin' round here fur, any-
how?"

" I come here to rescue Innercence — from a villain,
an' to have — Yengeance," said the Don, with an effort,
for his position, with his hands above his head, was a
tiresome as well as a ridiculous one.

" Haw ! haw ! " laughed Bob, hoarsely. " You
seem to be doin' it in great shape. None o' that ! Put
'em up ! " he added sharply, as the Don lowered his
aching arms a little.

" "Wai, you are a tenderfoot," said Mirandy, look-
ing at him scornfully. " Fust place, I aint innercent,
an' Bob aint a villain. We're on our way to Santy
Rosy to get married ! "

Married ! The Don was thunderstruck. He had
not expected this. It was not an abduction but an
elopement after all. Here was he blocking the wheels
of Love's chariot when he believed he was pushing
them out of the Slough of Despond. Mirandy going
to marry Bob ! Then she could no longer be his Dul-
•cinea ! What should he do ? At first he trembled
with indecision and doubt, but in a moment, like the
true knight he was, he bowed to the lady's choice,
and saluted her gracefully. Mirandy watched his

THE WAY OUT.

face attentively, and as he bent forward in obeisance,,
said :

" I reckon you kin put up your gun, Bob. He's all
solid," and Bob returned his pistol to its holster.

Then the Don set manfully to work to smooth the-
path of true love, which thus far had been rough
enough. If he could not be the very best man, he would
be the next best, and he hurriedly untied the raw-hide
lasso that hung in a neat coil from the saddle-hornr
just in front of his right knee. All this time Bob had
been seated on his mired horse, in mid-stream, quite
powerless to help himself or his animal. The Don
rode to the edge of the bank and said :

u I cal'late to chuck this over ye, Bob, and git ye
outen thar. Look out ! " Bob nodded his ac-
quiesence.

Very deftly the Don swung the loop about his head,
opening it at each turn with a gentle movement of his
wrist ; then, when it had acquired just the right
momentum he let it slip from his hand. It went
weaving and twisting through the air, and settled down
over Bob's shoulders. Taking a turn of the free end
about his saddle-horn, the Don backed E-ozinante
away from the stream, and in another second Bob,
wet and muddy, stood by Mirandy's side. The Don
did nothing by halves, and when he saw Mirandy
jump to the ground to greet her lover, he discreetly
turned his head, and endeavored, though ineffectu-
ally, not to hear the sounding smack that followed.
That little matter over, once more he swung hi&
lasso and once more it shot snakily through the
air. This time the open loop dropped over the

150 DON QUIXOTE DE SANTA ROSA.

head of the horse. Now the Don had his hands full ;
the animal reared and struggled and snorted, but the
effect of the strong, steady pull was apparent in time,
and at last the horse stood upon the bank — muddy,
trembling and weak.

About four o'clock that afternoon a party of three
rode into Santa Rosa. In spite of their wet and bedrag-
gled appearance it was plain that two of them were in
excellent spirits. The third was silent and preoccupied.
The rain had long since ceased ; the warm sun had dis-
persed the clouds, and the blue sky was without a spot
or speck. The party rode straight to the little adobe
church — built years ago by an over-sanguine mission-
ary, but now a long time unoccupied. It stood gable-
end to the plaza ; its ridge ornamented with a bell-
tower that sheltered a voiceless bell. To the rail in
front of the church were hitched three or four sad-
dled ponies, while loitering in the shade were as many
men, dressed in their best, with freshly greased boots
and clean-shaven faces, that showed white by contrast
with their sun-burned necks and foreheads.

" Well, boys ! here we be ! " cried Bob cheerfully,
as he drew up. " Everythin' all right, Bill ? "

" Yes," said Bill Ransom, as he stepped up and lay-
ing his hand on Mirandy's rein, helped her to dis-
mount. " How d'ye do, ma'am ? You're lookin'
well !"

Then noticing the Don he leaned over to Bob and
whispered: " Good Gawd ! Bob ! What's that ?
Some new kind of fam'ly ghost ? "

" He's my hated rival," said Bob complacently ; " an'
he's goin' to give the bride away, owin' to the un-

MAKKIED. 151

avoidable absence of her mother." Here he winked
at Bill in a very facetious manner.

" Give us all away, you mean," growled Bill. " Looks
's if he'd bin locoed," but no one seemed to hear him.

" Wai, come on now, boys," said Bob, as he gallant-
ly tucked Mirandy's arm through his — " Come along !
Less get this little exper'ment over. Is the Hon'able
Justice Parker on deck an' sober, Bill ? "

" The Hon'able Justice Parker, I regret to say,"
said Bill slowly, " is on deck — remarkably so — but
far from sober. He attempted to clean out the
* Maverick' at exactly two p. m., an' we had to tie
him an' put him to bed, where he now is, a ravin'
maniac from too much strong drink."

Bob uttered a very profane ejaculation.

" Curse him ! I give him five dollars in advance
'cause he promised to keep straight 'till after the
weddin'," he said. " What we goin' to do ? Tom
Davis an' the widder '11 be here in an hour with a
possy, an' I want to git married 'fore they come.
There's sure to be a fight an' I want to leave Mirandy
all right in case I git hit."

The Don stepped forward. " If you're lookin' fur
some one to marry ye," he said, " I reckon I kin help
ye out — do good fur evil — as I'm qualified to that ex-
tent, hevin' a licence to preach an' marry."

It was a very short ceremony as the Don perform-
ed it, and he brought it to a close in a style that some
of the guests thought a little abrupt. " Walk ye in
the narrer rud — I pronounce ye both one an' the

152 DON QUIXOTE DE SANTA KOSA.

Indeed, Bill Eansom was much dissatisfied with
the whole affair.

" Less make him do it over again," he said ; " 'taint
more'n half bindin' as 'tis now. I could've done it
better 'n that m'self."

But Bob would not hear of it.

" ]STo, siree ! " he said; "we're married an' thet's
enough. There's no double or quits about this. I'm
satisfied if Mirandy is," and Mirandy said she was,
entirely so.

" An' now gen'lemen, said Bob, a few moments
later, standing in front of the Maverick bar, " here's
my thanks to all, an' good-bye." He slowly raised his
glass, and held it an instant between his eye and the
light. " Mirandy an' I cal'late to rid over to Forty de
Luny to-night ; it's only twenty-five mile an' we've
borrowed a couple o' fresh hosses, an' to-morrow we'll
go on up to my place on th' 'Lupy creek. A week
from to-day we'll hev a dance, an' you're all to come.
By that time the Widder '11 be all solid, I reckon.
I'm sorter glad we didn't meet her to-day ; she's so
devilish sensitive she'd shot some one, sure."

As Bob and Mirandy rode away, they were sped on
their journey by a salute from a dozen revolvers.
Bill Ransom, who felt that he occupied the position
of best man, was determined that the affair should
come nothing short of complete success, and he hur-
riedly pulled off his huge riding-boot and threw it
after them, spur and all. " Not hevin' a slipper," he
said, " I fired my boot — fur luck — though its God's
mercy it didn't hit 'em."

NEW RESPONSIBILITIES. 153

A year from that day saw very few changes in
San Miguel County. The Widder and Tom had long
since forgiven Bob and Mirandy, who were living
quietly at Bob's ranch on the 'Lupy creek. With
what Mirandy had brought him, added to his own,
Bob found himself owner of 350 cows, which made
him quite a man of property. But then, there was
every reason why he should be, since he was a man
of family also. " Yes, sir ; it's a boy, just as certain as
the world," he had announced at Santa Rosa, "but he's
redder an' softer'n what I s'posed babies gen'rally
was. I'm sorter 'fraid to touch him, fear he'll break
in two, but he's a healthy breather."

This addition to his responsibilities made Bob more
sedate and steady -going than before. He worked hard,
early and late, and his only play-time was at night,
when he took his seat by the fire and watched Mirandy
and the baby. " Lord ! it's the queerestest thing, to set
here an' see you dressin' an' undressin' that there kid,
Mirandy, just as if you'd never done nothin' else all
yer life. Where ever you larned it, I can't think ; "
and Mirandy would look up at Bob and smile, but not
in her old coquettish way. Another expression, more
thoughtful and tender, had taken its place now. .
She was still the same buxom, stalwart Mirandy she
had ever been, but now she had a new object in life ;
she felt that new responsibilities required new man-
ners. It was quite a picture to see those three — Mirandy
seated in a low rocking-chair before the huge, open
clay fire-place, filled with a roaring wood fire, with
her baby on her lap, and Bob by her side, watching
her with a smile of gratified pride, as she fussed and

154: DON QUIXOTE DE SANTA KOSA.

cooed over the boy. " It beats all," he used to say,
" which likes it the best — you or him — or ine."

Sometimes the Don would ride over from the Bar-
zee, where he was still attached as cook, and spend the
evening. His regard for Mirandy was as deep as ever,
but since her marriage it had taken a different form,
being now more of a paternal nature, for he had come
to look upon her almost as a daughter.

The Don — he was still known by that name — had
appropriated the empty little chapel at Santa Rosa,
wherein Bob and Mirandy had been married, and
every Sunday morning during the winter, he had
ridden over from the Barzee ranch and preached
there. His success in that direction had been no bet-
ter than his attempts at cooking, but he was not cast-
down, and persevered faithfully. " San Migell is
pretty stony ground, but it aint all rock," he would
say hopefully.

The new spring opened promisingly. The price
of cattle was unusually high ; a very severe winter had
raged over the northern ranges, in Dakota, Montana
and Wyoming, and the losses among the cattle there
had been enormous, in some instances entire herds hav-
ing died from cold and starvation. The stockmen of
San Miguel County were jubilant, for their own losses
had been very few, the Barzee estimate being less than 2
per cent. ; and this, added to the fact that three-year-
old steers were bringing $30 and likely to bring $35,
made every one happy and prospectively rich.

With the return of spring, as in former years, men
started out over the range on preliminary surveys, in
preparation for the Round-up. Thus it happened that

155

Bob left Mirandy and the baby at his ranch one morn-
ing and rode away. He had kept no assistants all
winter ; he did his own work, knowing it was his duty
to economize for his family's sake, and so Mirandy was
left alone, but neither he nor she were troubled about
this . Mirandy was quite able to take care of herself.

The next afternoon about five o'clock, a horseman
rode at a hard gallop over the prairie towards Bob's
ranch, and checked his horse in front of the door.
Mirandy stepped out to see who it was, but not until
she had shaded her eyes with her hand did she recog-
nize the Don. " Wai, I declar' ! " she said, " ef taint
you! Wont ye light? " but the Don declined the
invitation, rather abruptly.

u Mirandy," he said, u I hearn down on th' Pecos
that there was a band of Injuns out from th' Reserva-
tion, loose, and "

" Injuns ! " cried Mirandy incredulously. " Why,
there aint no Injuns within two hundred mile of this
yere ! "

" Ef you'd seen the things I've seen," said the Don
slowly, " you'd say there was Injuns within ten mile
of this yere — broke out of th' Mescalero reservation —
they shot at Rube Friday, an' they're runnin' off stock
an' killin' anyone they kin ketch. You must git your
baby and come with me to the Barzee till this thing's
settled."

Mirandy demurred at first — she warnt afraid of no
Injuns, she said — but the recollection of her baby de-
cided her, and in a few minutes they were riding rapid-
ly towards the Barzee, twelve miles away. Yery ten-
derly the Don carried the child, wrapped in a heavy

156 DON QUIXOTE DE SANTA EOS A.

blanket, while Mirandy rode at his side, her eyes con-
stantly on the bundle. As they reached the top of a
mesa, two miles from their destination, they paused a
moment to breathe their horses. Suddenly the Don
noticed a commotion in a bunch of cattle behind him ;
they were running in evident alarm ; then he heard a
rifle shot and then another. His keen little eyes in-
stantly detected the cause of the disturbance.

" There they be ! Hide ! Mirandy, ride ! " and
away they dashed down the hill. Spur, spur and spare
not ! Ride, ride — for your lives, ride ! They had a
good half mile the start, and if they could only main-
tain it they were safe. Mirandy's horse was fresher
and speedier than the Don's, and she had constantly to
slow up for him, but he rode steadily along, giving
his entire attention to the child. And yet they had to
ride carefully too, for if a horse should step into a prai-
rie-dog's hole, or even stumble, it would be fatal. On
they went through the dust — their pursuers very slow-
ly gaining on them, and keeping up a continued firing.
It seemed as if they must be hit, but they rode on
and on, never swerving nor halting a moment. Once
a rifle-ball furrowed the rim of Mirandy's sombrero ;
once the Don's right stirrup was splintered ; but still
they kept on, on, on, with the yelling fiends behind
them.

At last they neared the ranch (the dusk was slowly
turning into night) and once there they were safe, for it
was garrisoned by a dozen men — good shots, well
armed and daring, every one. As they dashed along
the trail they came to a place where it forked ; the
main track ran around a mesa bluff and down into the

OVER THE BLUFF. 157

valley where the house stood, but there was a shorter
path, leading straight over the cliff, down which it was
possible, with great care, to lead a horse. It was rocky
and steep, there being a straight jump of five feet in
one place. As they approached the fork, the Don
motioned Mirandy to take this path, and without hes-
itation she rode for the bluff and disappeared over the
edge with the Don close after. How they ever reached
the bottom alive is still a mystery in the county, but
they did, and a few moments later pulled up in front
of the Barzee ranch. The men crowded to the door —
one bearing a lantern — to see who the new arrivals were,
and to learn what the firing had been about. No one
suspected then that the Don had been hit ; he still bore
the baby very tenderly on his left arm, while with his
right he steadied himself by the saddle-horn. It was
not until his charge had been transferred to Mirandy's
care that he reeled, and Rube Friday had just time to
•catch him as he lurched heavily from his horse. As
they laid him gently on the ground he fainted, and
the blood welled through his lips, which he had till
then kept tightly closed. They carried him into the
house and endeavored to staunch the blood, but it was
a hopeless case — he had been shot through the lung.
It was a solemn scene that the dim rays from the
smoky lantern lit up in the Barzee ranch, that night.
Around the dying man were grouped the stern-faced
riders, while at his head knelt Rube, vainly endeavor-
ing to force some stimulants past his lips. After
a little he revived and looked about him on the
familiar faces.

158 DON QUIXOTE DE SANTA ROSA.

" Boys ! " he said very faintly, " they're safe, Mi-
randy an' th' baby — deliver me from — mine offences-
— an' — forgive — "

That's all.

One of the men turned to the couch where the baby
lay. " He's asleep ! " he whispered. " So is the Don,n
said Rube, as he reverently drew the rough blanket
over the poor old fellow's face.

X. THE ASSAYER'S STORY.

I am the assayer of Phoenix. That is to say, I was,
for Phoenix no longer exists, except upon a map of
Colorado, published A. D. 1876. The edition is out
of print now, but I have a copy in my possession.
Looking at it I can see that PHCENIX (in capital let-
ters) lies in the very heart of the Sangre de Cristo range
of the great Rocky system. That is, Phoenix used to lie
there, for as I said before, Phoenix happens to be dead
now. Whether she will some day rise from her ashes,
somewhat scattered at the present moment, and prove
herself worthy of that reputation for immortality so
long connected with her name, I can't say. On the
whole I hope not. For Phoenix dead is better than
Phcenix living — that is, thfs Phoenix is. Not that I
bear the place a grudge, for I do not, but I believe I
have the interest of mankind at heart when I say again
— on the whole I hope not.

The three red lines radiating from Phcenix (on the
map of Colorado, 1876) represent railroads— projected.
The three lines of stakes and bench-marks that wind and
twist up through the Sangre de Cristo mountains rep-
resent the present condition of the aforesaid railroads.
They died a bornin'. During the heyday of its brief
existence, Phoenix dreamt nights and worked days for
railroad communication with the trunk lines, and just

(159)

160

as everything was fixed, Phoenix passed away, leaving
no thing to mark its grave but a few battered sheds
and dump-heaps, say two hundred holes in the ground,
and half as many rough, wooden crosses, rising out of
the western mountain slope — the cemetery.

I am sure you will admit that Phoenix had a most
undesirable location, when you hear that it was eleven
thousand feet above the sea ; that it was seventy miles
from a railroad, from civilization, from anywhere.
Upon three sides of it rose the stony sides of the
mountains, while the fourth was guarded by a per-
pendicular wall of rock, that stood a thousand feet
straight up in the clear air. Sprinkled here and there
upon the steep slopes were the rough shaft-houses of
the mines, and close to them were conical piles of
broken rock — the dump-heaps.

The state of affairs in Phoenix may be best described
in the words of Justice Shallow to Sir John Falstaff:
"Barren, barren, barren ; beggars all, Sir John, beg-
gars all. Marry, good air.''

The only desirable thing that Phoenix possessed in
exhaustless quantities was good air. And that was
often of such an unpleasant temperature as to render
a very little of it a good deal to much.

When I first saw Phoenix it was but two months
old, yet claims had already been staked out there,
which, according to their owner's estimates — prov-
erbially too small, contained sufficient treasures
to pay the debts of all the nations in the world
and leave a handsome surplus for contingent ex-
penses. The main thing was to get this treasure

WINTEK IN PHOENIX. 161

out — no one doubted it was there — and a great and
glorious future was predicted for the camp.

As long as the land was bare of snow, Phoenix could
be reached by a hard and dangerous ride, but during
the long winter months of that altitude, it was cut off
from the world by huge white barriers, that buried
the mountain passes deep out of sight. If you were
to object to Phcenix as a residence on this account and
say — in the hearing of one of her citizens — that it
must be lonesome living there, without news of the
rest of the world, the aforesaid citizen would prompt-
ly reply that the thing was just even, after all, for the
rest of the world then had no news of Phoenix. It is
this magnificent local pride that makes the "Westerner
the valuable citizen he certainly is.

During the season of snow, no man dared travel the
mountain paths of the Sangre de Cristo. Avalanches
raced elephantine games of tag down the slopes; the
wicked winds played hide-and-seek in the hollows and
canyons, piling up the snow into hills and digging deep
valleys between them, until the face of the land was
changed. The cold was so bitter that, but for its daz-
zling light, you could truly believe the fires of the
sun were extinguished forever.

Thus it happened that they who were in Phoenix
when the first snows of winter came, were there — pro-
vided they had not come to an untimely end mean-
while— when the spring sun had loosed the clasp that
bound the white mantle over the breast of the earth.
It was a motley crowd that wintered in the camp its first
year, and in it were found all sorts and conditions of
men — who at the first reports of the discovery of the

162

mines had instantly dropped whatever they had in
in hand, whether pen, spade or spare ace, and
started for the camp. And among the thousand
and odd was the undersigned, John Warner, Mining
Engineer. An unkind Providence, or lack of funds
— the two are much the same, after all — detained me
there. My success in prospecting during the fall had
been very poor. I had not then learned the golden
and silvern secret of mining, namely, to let some one
else do the hard work. Thus, instead of bettering my
condition I had so impaired it that it became a burn-
ing and a freezing question with me how I should
live, for provisions were scarce and dear, and I was
very poor. Just when I was mentally comparing the
various methods of suicide with involuntary, slow
starvation, the death of a resident of the camp, gave me
the chance I wanted. The Assayer of Phoenix, Peter
Ashe by name, got into a little difficulty with a miner,
through making a mistake in his report on some ores,
and the position of assayer became vacant in conse-
quence.

Mr. Ashe, in his professional capacity, had sworn
that certain specimens from a certain claim assayed
165 ounces of silver, three ounces of gold and 21 per
cent, of lead to the ton, and largely upon the strength
of this report the mine was bonded to a contemplat-
ing purchaser for $20,000. It very soon turned out
that the mine was worthless, and the unfortunate pur-
chaser obtained a meagre satisfaction — at sight — in the
usual way. At the informal inquest it was shown
that Mr. Ashe had been paid $10,000 by the former
owner of the property, coincidently with the unfor-

THE ASSAY OFFICE. 163

tunate error in his report, and a verdict in accordance
with the testimony was rendered.

In consequence of Mr. Ashe's untimely demise, the
camp was without a competent assayer, and seizing
the chance, I stepped into the vacant position. I was
backed by several influential men, Colonel Crocker
among others. The Colonel was the discoverer — by
purchase — of Phoenix, and had an extended acquain-
tance in the camp.

" You jump right in an' take the outfit," he said.
" I'll back you. You can act as ex-e-cu-tor of the un-
fortunate diseased, don't you see, an' do your assayin*
same time."

And I did so.

I found a fairly well equipped laboratory, contain-
ing a muffle furnace in tolerable repair ; two sets of
balances, one a cheap pair, the other a very good one
by Troemner ; a supply of crucibles, scorifiers, cupels
and all the other apparatus and chemicals necessary
for the work. The assay office was made of green,
unplaned boards, battened outside with cleats and
sheated within with old illustrated newspapers, princi-
pally Police Gazettes, pasted up two thick. Although
these precautions were quite ineffectual to keep out
the cold, the pictures gave the room a delightfully
cosey and refined appearance, in marked contrast to
the other houses in the camp.

Major Oswald, Colonel Crocker's partner, was never
tired of studying this gallery of art treasures. He
was especially pleased with one full-page picture, rep-
resenting " The Lynching of One-Eared Mike by the
Yigilantes of San Juan." Perhaps his interest was

164

partly due to his having been present at the death of
the aforesaid Michael, and the picture therefore re-
called pleasant memories. The engraving was fasten-
ed to the wall near the furnace, just where the glow
from the fire lit it up to great advantage.

" To look at that picture," the Major would remark,
with a critical squint of his left eye, " you'd almost
think you was in the saloon at Paree, durn me ! "

Colonel Crocker was best pleased with a full length
portrait of " Mile. Rosalba Confetti, premieure dan-
seuse, as she appears when about to make her wonder-
ful leap for life, from one flying trapeze to another,"
and he used to protest, "that she didn't have a fair
show, pasted up in a dark corner, where the light was
so devilish bad."

" Give her a chance," he would say, " an' she'll get
away from anythin' in her line, sure. I know what
I'm talkin' about too, for I've seen every first-class
show this side the Missouri river."

My house was a low, one-story affair, of so flimsy
construction that when the wind from the mountains
swept down through the valley it used " to rack an5
twist an' shake to its very roots," as the Major said,
in humorous reference to its being built upon stumps
of trees. The interior was divided by a couple of
blankets into two rooms, the front being the laboratory
and office; the rear "a combination libery, setfein'-
room and boo-dore, all in one," according to the
Colonel.

I had plenty of work to do, for in spite of the severe
winter, the mines were kept open and operated. They
never stop digging in Colorado, and never will,

A NEW CLIENT. 165-

until the mountains are leveled with the plains. And
even then they won't, for they'll set out to make some
new mountains. When that time comes, I shall have a
suggestion to make — about the mountains.

One stormy evening in January, I had just finished
work on some specimens from the " Big Six " mine,
and was clearing away my table and furnace, when the
door was suddenly opened, and there was blown inta
the room, along with a tremendous gust of twenty-
below-zero atmosphere, an odd figure of a man.

" Evenin', pardner," said the figure, from behind a
ragged, worsted muffler, that completely hid his face
and disguised his voice. He backed himself up
against the door to try if it was shut, and then ad-
vanced a step into the room. " Evenin' pardner," he
said again. " Cussed mean weather, aint it ? "

I made no reply to this other than a nod ; the state
of the weather was so obvious it didn't need any more
attention. The stranger went on :

" You don't happen to know now if the ass-sayer is
about, do ye ? "

I signified that I was acting in that capacity, just
then.

" You ! " By this time the stranger had unwound
the wrapping about his face — it seemed as if he never
would get unswathed — and advancing towards the
fire, stood with outstretched hands before the glow-
ing mouth of the muffle. He was a short and plump
little old man, and his rosy face was framed by a rim
of yellowish- white beard, thickly matted by icicles,
frozen there by the cold, mountain winds. He wore
a frayed and tattered buffalo-skin coat, from which,

166

the fur had been rubbed in huge blisters. Upon his
feet were enormous cowhide boots, seemingly all
wrinkles, while his head was ornamented by a cap
matching his coat.

" So you're th' ass-sayer, eh ! "Wai, I dunno but
it's all right. I'm gettin' so nothin' surprises rne now-
day s. I want to see you on partickler an' private biz-
ness."

He glanced suspiciously into the dark corners of the
room, and then, cautiously inserting a grimy hand into
the bosom of his shirt, drew forth a small piece of
stone. He touched a corner of it to his tongue, and
holding it close to the furnace, so that the light should
glance upon the moistened surface, asked with an air
of assumed indifference :

" There ass-sayer, what d'ye call that, off-hand ? "

I told him I thought it was a piece of rock — which
it most undoubtedly was, and —

" Of course it is," he interrupted impatiently, " I
know that, but what's the value of its argentiferous
contents ! Give us an ass-say."

He handed the specimen to me, and I went to work.
The steady crunch, crunch of the ore-pulverizer, as I
ground the rock into powder, was the only sound
heard except the whistling of the wind outside.
While I worked the stranger wandered uneasily about
the room, as if in search of something.

"Cussed mean weather," he said at last, with a
dreary poverty of conversational resource. " I dunno
as I ever see it much worse, an' I've seen consid'able
weather too, fust an' last."

PROCESSES. 167

I made no attempt to answer him, nor did he seem
to expect it, but went on from time to time with his
monologue.

" Ores runnin' pretty good now ? " he asked of the
furnace, " or aint ye doin' much 'count of snow ? I
dunno 's I ever see just such a winter 's this in a long
time. Come to think, not since seventy-one."

By this time I had prepared my samples for the fire ;
four small clay scorifiers were duly weighted with
proper quantities of powdered ore, and covered with a
thin coating of oxide of lead, and I carried them to
the furnace. The old man watched me anxiously as
I raised the cups, one by one, in the tongs, and pushed
them into the hot muffle, and when the last one was
safely deposited he gave a deep sigh of relief.

"lallustook lots of amusement in ass-sayin," he
said, as if to explain his interest ; " it's so cussed scien-
tific. I kin do a little of it m'self, off-hand, as fur
as gettin' the button goes an' so forth, but then I
weaken. When you come to cipherin' you've got me.
Ought turns ought's ought an' carry ought is about 's
fur 's I kin go."

The ore in the scorifiers rapidly melted in the hot
muffle, and at the end of twenty minutes the first step
was completed ; the rock had given up its impurities
to the oxide of lead, and there was left only a small
button of alloy, containing lead, and possibly silver and
and gold. I drew out the scorifiers from the furnace,
and the old man observing me carefully as I hammered
the round balls into clean, bright cubes, dropped
them into little white, bone-ash cupels, and put them
back into the muffle.

168

" It's this dog-gone-slap-me-on-the-back familiarity
with science that gets me," he cried enthusiastically.
" You just take a piece of ore — grind her up — stick
her in the fire " — here he picked up one of the red-hot
scorifiers to illustrate, and instantly dropped it with a
muttered, " Hottish, aint it ! " — " an' there you be.
When it's cooked you pull her .out, weigh her, an'
find, may be there's fifty ounces of silver, maybe a
hunderd, or may be" — here he lowered his voice to a
confidential whisper ; — " maybe there's two or three
hunderd ; it aint unushill, and I know a mine that —

He checked himself, and looked mysterious.

Within the furnace the little metallic cubes were
soon melted, and from the surface of the fluid there
arose red vapors, that wavered and floated in the hot
space of the muffle ; then lazily crawled to the chim-
ney's mouth and vanished. Slowly these vapors ^rew
less ; slowly the molten metal shrank, until at last
nothing was left in the cupels but tiny, glowing beads,
that winked and twinkled like stars. The fire test
was done, and these little specks contained all the
precious metal there was in the samples; the baser
elements had been driven off.

Then I withdrew the cupels, and carefully lifting up
the little beads with pincers, took them to the light.
They were very tiny — hardly visible, but they were
large enough to suit the stranger.

" Oh, maybe not ! " he cried, " may-be NOT ! Per-
haps th' Old Man hasn't struck it this time ! Oh no !
certainly not ! "

Accurately weighing the beads on the fine balance,
I found that the ore contained only six ounces of

THE RESULT. 169

silver to the ton, a very poor quality of rock indeed
— for Phoenix, in those days. But the old man
didn't think so.

" That'll do for a beginin', " he said, " but you
wait a little. You let me get into th5 vein a ways, an'
I'll show ye some three or four hunderd ounce rock,
sure. Just now you was sayin' ores was runnin' poor,
wasn't you ? I guess you'll talk t'other side soon 's I
git th' Mary Ann Billings — after her — m' wife you
know'' — he added with an explanatory wave of his
hand — " after I get her to pay in' dividen's."

Just then Colonel Crocker and Major Oswald came
in, covered with snow, and filling the close room with
the cool, fresh odor of the pure air. The stranger
stepped briskly forward, and with a polite little bow
said cheerfully:

" Ah, Cornel ! good evenin'! Always at it, you see,
always at it. Just havin' a little ass-sayin' done now.
I'd like to make you acquainted with m' friend the
ass-sayer. Cornel, the ass-sayer — gen'lemen, be ac-
quainted ! "

The Colonel and the Major bowed gravely to the
little man, and he bowed and smiled back at them.

" My name's Elisha E. Billings, you know," he said,
" but most every one in th' camp calls me th' Old Man.
Cussed mean weather, aint it ? I dunno 's I ever see
a wuss winter since seventy-one, an' I aint sure but it's
longer."

The old man monopolized the talk that evening.
" Speakin' of claims," he said, " I know where there's
a mine that's wuth — well, I dunno 's I can say ex-
actly what it is wuth — but it ass-says way up, as my
K

170

friend the ass-sayer will say," and lie looked at me
for corroboration.

He resolutely refused to tell where this mine was,
but he had it all snug and buttoned up tight in his
vest pocket — well, slightly — he should think so— oh
certainly, and he winked with an expression abso-
lutely machiavelian, and repeated " Oh certainly ! "
in a diminuendo, until his voice was lost in the laby-
rinth of his beard. He bade us good-night about nine,
and with a cheerful promise to call again, he went out
into the darkness.

Those who passed that winter in Phoenix and lived
through it, will not soon forget their experience.
Never before, in the memory of the oldest miner in
the camp, had the snow lain so deep on the mountains ;
never before had the winds been so cruel or the cold
so bitter. The very wild beasts came down out of
their lairs, and sought a refuge in the camp. The bar-
keeper of the " Poodle Dog " one morning found a
wild-cat behind an empty barrel, and humanely killed
it, " rather than let it suffer." For days at a time no
man dared leave his house, lest he should be over-
whelmed and lost in the snow. The valley seemed
to be the dwelling-place of storms. After seventeen
days of this weather in February there came a lull,
and a few of the bolder men ventured out among the
hills on snow-shoes. They came back with a report
that the ten miners who had been working the Ava-
lanche mine, a claim up Eagle Gulch, only half a mile
from the camp, had been buried in a slide, and were

THE FIRST ASSISTANT. 171

lying, frozen to death, beneath hundreds of tons of
snow and ice. It was impossible to find their bodies
then ; the spring sun alone could release them.

For a few days the sky was blue, the sun shone and
the snow sparkled ; then the storm-clouds swept down
again from the mountains, and the wind, the snow and
the cold sported in wanton merriment about us —
" a savage trinity," truly. Day after day the white
heaps rose higher and higher in the one street of
Phoenix, and men had to labor hard to keep their
dwellings from being crushed flat under the tremen-
dous pressure.

I am sure I cannot tell — if you were to ask me — how
it was brought about, but in a very little -time after
his first visit, the Old Man was domiciled in my house,
and acting as First Assistant Assayer for the camp
of Phoenix. To this day, the manner in which he in-
sinuated himself into the position is a mystery to me.
Perhaps it was our mutual love for science ; perhaps
it was his good-humor and optimism that won me over.
At all events, he soon became as much a part of the
laboratory as the furnace itself. He was by no means
a useless article either, for he learned to tend the fire
and pulverize the ores for assaying, very skillfully. He
entered into this latter work with such enthusiasm
that in two days he had ground up every bit of rock
in the office, including some very choice specimens I
intended to preserve as curiosities. His interest in his
new profession, as he called it, was great, and grew
greater every day.

" I tell you what," he said one day, pausing in his
work at the pulverizer, " it aint so difficult bein' an

172

ass-sayer, after all. What you got to do is to make
your reports big enough. If you find the ore runs,
say 30 ounces to the ton, why write her down 35.
That'll tickle the miner, an' when he sells his ore to
the smelter, an' they on'y pay him fur thirty, why he
wont blame you ; he'll swear the smelter is cheatin*
him outen his hard earnin's. Then he'll git you to
make some more ass-says, an' so forth — just to prove he
is right. If you work the cards you kin git lots of
bizness that away."

The Old Man had not been living with me three
days before I found myself admitted to a " full and
equal pardnership in the Mary Ann Billings mine,
with all her dips, spurs, angles and sinuosities as afore-
said." This generous act on his part was due partly
to the feeling of friendship he had for me, and partly
to sheer benevolence. Half was as good as all to him ;
the Mary Ann was too valuable a property for one man
to hold, he said. This cussed concentration of capi-
tal would play the devil with the body politic in time,
and like the true philosopher he was, he practiced
what he preached. I am not a man of lively imagin-
ation— being a Mining Engineer, as I've told you —
and I have had much experience with Holes-in-the-
ground-mines, that never paid back the recording fees
to their owners ; but the enthusiasm and dead-sureness
of the Old Man, took me clean off my feet, and I soon
fell into line with him in cheering for the Mary Ann.

And still, this may not seem so strange to anyone
who has been among the silver mines, and observed
the mad stampedes that sometimes take place there,
when hundreds of thinking and breathing men will

173

often lose their self-control and commit the most ab-
surd follies, just because some one else does.

So it happened that in a very short time, I be-
lieved as fully in the Mary Ann as the Old Man him-
self, and though I never visited the claim, I took his
reports for gospel, and even caught myself enlarging
on them — a little.

" Talk about your mines, Johnny," the Old Man
would say, as we seated ourselves before the furnace of
an evening, " there's where you git it. I've bin in this
biz ness risin' twenty year, an' I never see a prettier
prospec' fur a reg'lar teaser than the Mary Ann, an'
we're th' boys to prove it."

Twice a week he would mysteriously disappear and
return at dark, tired out, but triumphant. " I've been
lookin' her over," he would explain ; " lookin' after her
dips, spurs, angles an' so forth, an' she's all there, you
bet." .

He invariable brought back samples of rock which
he requested me to analyze, but he seemed in no ways
disconcerted whenever I informed him that they con-
tained no silver, as was generally the case. On the
contrary he appeared to be amused.

" Silver ! " he would exclaim. " Silver in them
specimens ! I should rayther say not ! Them stones" —
here he would point his finger at them impressively —
" them stones aint out of OUT mine. Well, hardly ! I
just brought 'em in fur you to practice on. You
don't expect to find native silver in snow-drifts, do
you ? "

After that I let the Old Man assay his own samples.

1T4

Besides his scientific studies, he developed a fine
appreciation for literature and art, and when not en-
gaged in his professional duties spent much time in re-
viewing the pictures that constituted the wall-paper of
the house. He always read the letter-press accompany-
ing the engravings, but with some difficulty, and could
never accurately connect the two. Thus, he would
attentively study a column upon " The Careless Boy,
Champion Light- Weight Slugger," and endeavor to-
fit the description of this noted pugilist to Mile. Ros-
alba Confetti, with but indifferent success. Her por-
trait, by the way, had a never-ending attraction for
him. Still he did not accept it without criticism.

" The lady looks as if she'd catch cold," he would
say musingly ; "it's a middlin' light outfit she's got on ;.
wouldn't do fur these altitudes."

How much more elegant was that than the Major's
comment on the same subject. "Rayther leggy, /call
it," was what he said.

Day by day our enthusiasm over the mine in-
creased, and we longed for spring, that we might get
to work. The Old Man's graphic description of the
splendid appearance of the Mary Ann, her extraor-
dinary richness and quantity, her desirable location,
" just where you can slam the ore out on a gravity
rud " and her many other good points, completely
carried me away, and made me dissatisfied with my
humdrum life as an assayer. The samples he brought
back, too, began to show up well, according to his
assays. Not one was under two hundred ounces,
and once he had one, which he told me, in an awe-
struck whisper, " unless I've made a mistake it's a

A FAMINE IN CAMP. 175

thousan' an' eight ounces of silver an' seventeen
of gold. Johnny, we're millionaires! Less take
suthin' ! "

Towards the middle of February a new danger
menaced the camp — famine. An insufficient quan-
tity of supplies had been laid in to carry us through
until spring, and our situation became alarming. The
price of provisions rose enormously. Flour was three
dollars a pound and only to be had by favor. Meat,
except a little tainted sow-belly pork, was a delicacy
quite unknown, and as for tea, coffee, sugar or salt,
they were never even thought of. Yet all this time,
the saloons kept open night and day (there seemed to
be plenty of whiskey) ; the gambling houses were
crowded and the proprietors made independent for-
tunes, although the amount of money in circulation
was comparatively small.

As February drew to a close the prospects of the
camp became very gloomy, and starvation seemed
near. A party of men made a desperate attempt to
escape from the valley. There were thirteen in all —
an unlucky number some said — and they started on
snow-shoes on the morning of the 26th. Many thought
they would succeed, as they were active and hardy,
and knew the mountains well. Four days later there
crawled into camp, on hands and knees, one of
the band, the only one left alive. The others had
been caught in an avalanche and smothered. This man
— James Russell — was walking in the rear of the party
at the time, and so escaped, and managed to make his
way back to Phoenix after enduring terrible suffering.

176

Both his hands and his feet were frozen, and he died
three days later.

Just as we had eaten the last pound of flour, it oc-
curred to some one that the barracks of three of the
mines, whose men had been killed by the snow-slides,
were stocked with provisions ; and parties were at once
organized to dig out the supplies and bring them
into camp. I attended the sale of the provisions and
purchased, for twenty-five dollars, a venerable, moth-
eaten looking ham, and that evening the Old Man and
I dined like princes.

" It's a trifle dry," he said, " but then, what of it ?
It quenches your hunger. If we on'y had the ma-
terials here I could make a gay little Sally Lunn or
floatin' i-le-and, but then we aint, so what's th' odds ?
But what bothers me most just now is, how we're to
git our ore to the smelter. It'll cost too much to
pack it seventy mile on burros ; still, when we're
gittin' five and six hunderd ounces of silver outen a
ton we hadn't orter kick very much, had we ? An'
then, of course, we can put in a con-centrator. Still
we must have a railrud in time. Run her right up
Eagle Gulch ; it's on'y sixty mile, air line, to the
main track, an' allowin' ten fur angles an' sinuosities
makes seventy, don't it ? Just check me up when
you see me gittin' off. Well, say seventy mile at —
we can do it for a hunderd thousand a mile, can't we ?
Yes, that'll cover it, an' that makes the rud cost seven
hunderd thousand ! What? Oh ! seven million, is it?
Well, another ought or two is all the same. Well, say
seven million for a neat little rud slap up to the camp. I
tell you, Johnny, I an' you, we'll build her next spring,

177

ship our ores fur nothin' and beat the other boys to
death. An' when they want to buy us out, maybe
we'll sell an' maybe we wont, just as it happens."

The next morning the Old Man had disappeared,
and with him had gone the venerable ham, all our
provisions. I confess it was in no pleasant frame of
mind, that I went to the grocery-store and expended
my entire capital on a little flour. I didn't appreciate
the Old Man's eccentricities, just then.

At night he returned, as lively and chipper as ever.

" Just been out to see her," he said, as he took
off his ragged fur coat. " Didn't know but suthin'
had happened to her, but there she was, snug as a
reg'lar old bug in a devilish little rug, with that cute
little notice just stickin' up outen th' snow, recitin',
to wit, how I the undersigned claim so an' so. I tell
you Johnny, I was relieved."

But just then the question of rations was upper-
most in my mind, and I asked him : " What have
you done with that ham ? " in much the same tone I
would have accused him of murder.

" Well now, Johnny, I 'low perhaps that wasn't
quite the fair thing, my takin' the ham, but poor lit-
tle Billy Strong — you know Billy ?— well, he was just
starvin' to death, an' sick, an' dead broke, an' so — well,
he's got the ham, an' I told him to come here, now an'
then, him an' his family, an' git suthin' to eat. I
know'd you wouldn't mind ; you can just charge it to
me. You don't mind so very much, now, do you
Johnny ? "

Mind ! God bless the little man, I should say I
didn't mind, and I liked him better than ever then.

178

But after that nothing would do but we should have a
regular set of books.

" May as well begin right," he said. " Our bizness is
gittin' so large an7 complicated we never can keep
track of it." And so I took an old note-book in which
I had kept a record of my assays, and wrote at the
top of a clean page : ff Billings and Warner — Mary
Ann Mine," and our books were opened.

" Just hold it into the light, Johnny, so's I can see
it," he said. " There, that's it ; neat, ain't it ? Bil-
lings & Warner ! Me an' you. Joint pardners in the
Mary Ann. An' now write — Charge Elisha R. Bil-
lings one partly-used ham, per Billy Strong, debtor.
If I'm dog-gone fool enough to fling away a ham like
that, why make me pay for it, that's all. The mine'll
stan' it, I guess. Git it down in writtin', slick, Johnny.
Joint pardners in the Mary Ann ! Great, isn't it ? Less
take su'thin' on that."

One afternoon the Old Man stopped me at my work
on some samples for the " Not Much " mine, (the
name was singularly prophetic, not only of the mine,
but of Phcenix also), and said : " Johnny, less I
an' you go out an' look her over to-day. You aint
seen her yet, an' bein' a joint pardner, you'd orter git
familiar with her dips an' spurs."

It was rather late when we started, the sun set early
in Phcenix that winter, and the air was cold. As we
proceeded in the direction the Old Man said the claim
lay, we came to a ricketty old cabin, half buried out of
sight in the snow Before this he stopped.

" Johnny," he said appealingly, " you don't mind
goin' in with me, do you ? There's a sick man in

WHERE HIS CHAEITY WAS BESTOWED. 179

there, I'd r'ally like to see a minute ; he aint a long
ways from dyin', I'm afeared."

The shanty was a wretched, tumble-down affair, and
through its splintered walls the wind and snow drifted
unhindered. We put aside the board that answered
for a door and entered. There was no fire in the
room ; in one corner we saw the form of a man,
buried beneath a pile of tattered blankets. His face
was thin, terribly thin and white, and except for his
slow, gasping breathing, he seemed to be dead. Dying
he certainly was. But what surprised me most was
to see a child, not over ten years old apparently, from
her size, though a woman to judge from her pinched,
shrivelled little face. She was dressed in an old
blanket, through which a hole had been cut for her
head and two smaller ones for her arms. A piece of
rope bound the folds about her waist. Yet in spite of
this garment, the child was almost frozen with the
cold. She kept her place by the head of the sick man,,
but nodded slightly to the Old Man as we entered.
He was visibly affected by what he saw, and turning to-
me, said with a trifling shake in his pleasant voice :

" This is Bob Strong, ye know ; what there is left of
him." Then to the little girl: "How is he to-day,
Nellie ? "

"Bad, Mr. Billings, dreadful bad. We're most
starvin' — an' I'm so hungry."

The tears came to the Old Man's eyes. " It's toughr
I swear it's tough, Johnny," he said, huskily. " Aint
it too bad that everyone aint got a Mary Ann mine-
back of 'em ? Don't you think you'd better come with
me an' this gen'lemen, Nellie? "

180 THE ASSAYEK'S STORY.

" Oh, but father ! " she cried, " he'll soon be well
*when the warm weather comes."

Yes, before the warm weather should come he
would be well, for as we stood there, a fit of coughing
seized him ; it seemed as if it would tear his poor,
worn body asunder ; then came a gush of blood from
his mouth ; a gasp and he was well, indeed.

No more pain or hunger for him ; no more trouble
or sorrow ; no more striving after what he could never
reach, nor regretting what was past recall. Lucky,
some say. I'm sure I don't know. I hope so ; he
never had any luck before.

We did not visit the Mary Ann that day, but when
the shadows of the mountains had veiled the snowy
valley, we covered up the body of Strong, and after
the Old Man load spoken a short prayer, we went back
to camp, with Nellie between us.

From that time she was as much a partner in
the mine as the Did Man or I. At first her grief was
•excessive, but she was so young and so hopeful, and
the Old Man devoted himself so earnestly to her, that
in a little while she became as merry and light-hearted
.as himself. This is not the place to discuss the wrong
done the child in bringing her to a mining camp. It was
•a cruel thing to do — but the one who was responsible
for it was buried under the snow, and the Old Man,
like the warm-hearted old grandfather he was, took
her straight to his heart, and saved her life and soul.

It was a pleasure to him to find in Nellie an atten-
tive listener, and he would hold forth to her by the
hour on the inexhaustible resources of the Mary Ann.
His favorite position was with his back to the furnace,

RELAXATION. 181

one hand in his pocket and the other swaying to em-
phasize his words.

" You shell ride in your kerridge, Nell, an' be a sure
'nuff lady," he used to tell this ten-year-old child ;
" you shell marry a prince ; live in a gold palace and be
happy forever after. But never forgit, child," he
would add impressively, " that you're a joint pardner^
an' that you must live up to the responsibilities that
the position kerries with it."

When the Old Man grew tired of being serious, he
and Nellie would indulge in a little blind-man's buff
in the office, until the room looked as if an elemental
disturbance had been traveling that way.

" Never mind, Johnny, never mind ! " he would say,,
with the utmost good-nature, if I found fault at hav-
ing my cupels broken or my samples scattered ; " charge
it to the Mary Ann ; she kin stand it. It's only been
a couple of the pardners havin' a little frolic."

The way the Old Man and Nellie made things in>
the cabin jump sometimes, would have driven a nerv-
ous man frantic. I was not over-burdened with nerves
at that time, being only twenty-three, still I must
admit that once or twice I was on the point of speak-
ing out.

The number of miles that those two rode, evenings,
over the Phoenix and Eagle Gulch Railroad (on passes,
the Old Man being the engineer, president and brake-
man of the corporation, and Nellie the conductor and
passengers generally), would have worn out any ordin-
arily constructed road-bed. The furnace was a capi-
tal locomotive, and our two chairs and an empty bar-
rel made such a train of cars you couldn't tell them

182

from real — in the dark. Sometimes, as general man-
ager, (also riding on a pass), I would go over the road
on a tour of inspection, and then, how we would swing
down the Gulch to the Junction. The president and
engineer, being anxious to show up the property, would
rattle over that seventy miles at a hair-raising speed,
keeping up a tremendous whistling — through an old
blow-pipe. We always started behind time, yet never
failed to make a good connection with the Denver
Express, and after the run was over the engineer
would come to* me, and taking out his watch, would
say : " There sir, how's that for runnin' ? Seventy-
one mile in sixty-three minutes ? " And then I would
shake hands with him, and ask what he'd take, and
we'd have something mixed out of two broken crucibles,
with a little yellow slag in the bottom for lemon-peel :
and very often the conductor would join us.

When the Colonel or the Major dropped in, they
were always invited to ride, and the Old Man presented
them with perpetual free-passes, which they thank-
fully accepted, and gravely showed to the conductor —
Nellie — every trip they made.

Once, in going around a sharp curve, the baggage-
car (the flour-barrel) went into the creek, and the
brakeman was killed. But the president, who was on
board, was luckily unhurt, and soon had things
straightened out.

One night, coming down the grade just out of
Phoenix, the engineer let the train run away with him,
and the engine (the furnace) was upset. For a few
minutes it looked as if the entire outfit, including the
Assay office would be burned, but by hard work, the

BUSINESS ACTIVITY. 183

fire was extinguished, and the damage charged to the
Old Man, on the partnership books of Billings, War-
ner & Co.

I never saw so much enthusiasm as the Old Man
displayed over this railroad. At first it even sup-
planted the mine in his affections, but after a while he
consolidated them, and thus relieved himself of much
extra work. Although he enjoyed running the pas-
senger trains over his road, he became absolutely radi-
ant when he backed his engine up to a line of flat-cars,
loaded with ore from the Mary Ann mine. The
number of pounds of pay-rock he thus took down the
mountains was millions. I figured once that he hauled
to the smelter that winter a little over 500,000 tons
of ore, not a ton running under $500, as he positively
assured me, making a total valuation of two hundred
and fifty million dollars. Not altogether a bad winter's
work, we both agreed, even allowing but half of it as
clear profit, not to mention the handsome sum the
railroad earned us, something like twenty per cent, on
its cost.

The capacity of the road was enormous. The Old
Man and Nellie would often take down five trains of
cars in an evening, and the actual running time was
so shortened that I have known them to make the
whole seventy-one miles in a shade under four min-
utes by the watch. I venture to say there is not
another railroad in the country that can do seventy-
one miles in a shade under four minutes, night after
night, without an accident.

Thus the winter wore away ; our lives being bright-
ened, and sweetened I'm sure, by Nellie's presence in

1,84

the house. She had a lovely disposition, and her short
contact with the world had in no wise hardened her,
though she was sometimes as grandmotherly in her
ways as the Old Man was grandfatherly in his.

At last it seemed as if spring had really come. The
warm March suns broke the fetters that bound the
land, and the streams once more began their interrupt-
ed labors of plowing the mountain's face. The canyon
of Eagle Creek was full to the brim with a rushing,
roaring torrent of water and snow and ice.

The air was mild ; the cold winds had been tamed
into quiet zephyrs. The barkeeper of the Poodle-
Dog composed a song — both words and music — upon
the season, with appropriate local hits, that was en-
cored three times at the Hall of Delight, and made
his reputation in a night.

The camp had survived the winter, and every one
was happy. Then the Old Man began to get restless.

u We must be gittin' to work, Johnny," he said one
evening. " We must sure-ly be git tin' to bizness. I
reckon I'll mosey out to-morrow to look at her again.
Maybe th' notice '11 want fixin' up a little. You kin
clean up your ass-say in' work ; we wont do any more
o' that for any but Billings, Warner & Co., joint pard-
ners in the Mary Ann. That'll keep you busy an'
more too, for ass-sayin' these high-priced ores takes
con'sid'able cipherin'."

The morning came and the Old Man started off in
high spirits. " I'll be back by sundown," he said, as
he kissed Nellie good-bye ; " on'y want to see if she's
there. This has been such a cussed mean winter — I

THE OLD MAN'S GRAVE. 185

dunno 's I ever see much worse — I want to look her
up. Good-bye, Nell ! So long, Johnny ! " and away
he went, smiling and happy.

But he never came back. The spring which we all
thought had come to Phoenix to stay, was in fact,
only coquetting with winter, and that afternoon ran
down the mountain to the valley, chased by the winds.
* The storm began, as all mountain storms do, with
awful unexpectedness, and the winds blew and the
snow fell, and in a few hours the face of the land was
white again. And it was in this storm that the Old
Man perished. We never knew exactly how, but we
believed he wandered through the blinding snow, and
fell at last, into the roaring hell of Eagle Gulch.

Late that summer a party of engineers, surveying
through the canyon for the railroad that the Old Man
had himself projected, and over which we three had
taken so many exciting rides, came upon a skeleton,
still clothed in a ragged buffalo-skin coat, in the pockets
of which were found some specimens of quartz. No
one doubted for a moment that these bones were the
mortal remains of the Old Man, and we made a grave
for him in the canyon, at the foot of a towering spire
of rock, that formed a truly noble monument. At the
foot of the grave we put up a rough board, with this
inscription :

ELISHA R. BILLINGS,

THE OLD MAN.
DISCOVERER OF THE MARY ANN MINE.

Died March, 187—.
L

186

That's all ; that's my story. Not much of a story, is
it? How's that? About Nellie! Oh, she's a
woman now. Where is she ? Not far off, I should —
Look there ! see that boy over there, trying to walk —
isn't he a baby for you ? Well, that's mine — and
her's.

What's that ? About the Mary Ann mine ! Why,
to be sure ! Well there never was any mine and there
never had been. But there — look at him now — isn't
he a baby for you ?

XL THE LOG OF A LANDSMAN.

SATURDAY, MARCH 27. — I mentally patted myself on
the back and drank to my pleasant voyage as the Zea-
landia swung away from her dock in San Francisco,
and slowly turning her bow down the bay, steamed
•out through the Golden Grate. It was a perfect day,
warm and bright, with just enough wind to give mo-
tion to the water. A thin haze hung over the land
-and softened the rough outlines of the hills that rose
up from the edge of the bay. The island of Alcatraz
looked misty and blue in the afternoon light, and the
seals that were sporting in the harbor stared at us with
an indifference born of long familiarity, as we sped
by. Through the Gate we went, and then out to sea.
A breeze from the north-east was tumbling the green
waters into high hills of foam, and blew us merrily
south on our course. At five o'clock we lost the land
and were bowling along — thirteen knots — in fine style.
There are but few passengers on board and they were
all present at dinner, evidently thinking, " Let us eat
and drink for to-morrow — it may be impossible."

Among them are all sorts and conditions of men
and — some women. There is the Tarry Yachtsman,
who wears a braided jacket, a nautical cap, and whiskers
that are little better than 'airy nothings. He carries
oakum in his pocket, smells unpleasantly of pitch, and

(187)

188 THE LOG OF A LANDSMAN.

talks in a breezy way of " reef points '' and " boom
jiggers," that is particularly refreshing. He has given
the captain many useful little suggestions about the
management of his ship, and makes me feel very
thankful he is on board to advise with in case of a
storm.

Then there is the man who is " never seasick, sir.'*
Confound him ! what business has such a person to go
to sea ? And the man who u doesn't know whether he
will be sick or not," but invariably is. (I belong in
this class.) He wears a mingled look of Doubt and
Hope, until he catches sight of some one already in the
throes, when with an " I too have been at Philippi n
expression, he rushes hurriedly away, and though not
seen again, is heard.

Then there is the young man who thinks going to
sea is " nice ; " who calls everything delicious, and
whose digestion is dubious or more. And the elderly
lady, in curls and spectacles, who has never been to
sea before, and who is nervous and unhappy now. And
the newly married pair, who little think how soon
their rapture will be changed to woe. And the two
missionaries, pale but determined, who are manifestly
too thin to become popular with the Islanders. And
several young ladies, in charge of a matronly dame.
They are delighted with everything, and exclaim :
u Oh ! " at short intervals during the voyage, but not
always from joy.

There have been times when I was sick at sea, but
then I was on the Atlantic. That such a misfortune
could happen to me on the calm Pacific, I believed
impossible, and I went to dinner with a light heart.

THE. SECOND DAY. 189

Not only that, but at nine o'clock I sat down to tiffin.
In the night the winds arose in their might, and they
smote the vessel, and she did roll and pitch most
dreadfully. How everything creaked and groaned ! I
did, I remember, now.

SUNDAY. SECOND DAY. — When this morning came
I found myself somewhat upset ; the thought of break-
fast was disquieting to me. Last night was a rough
one . About three bells I heard the Tarry Yachtsman
— who occupies the next stateroom to mine — remark
that he feared the ship was going down. I was glad
to hear of something that was going down ; it was
nothing about me. All doubts as to whether I am go-
ing to be sick or not are at an end. I am simply
dreadfully ill. Why do people assure you that it will
do you good, and why does the man who never is sick
look into your stateroom and tell you to " go it ! " as
if you were doing anything else, or could possibly help
**' g°mg * V f°r anv worldly gift mentionable ?

I know of nothing more prostrating to a person of
nervous temperament than to have to put on his own
shoes after a rough night. Your land lubber, who has
never been to sea, may tell you that it is all a " matter
of will " ; and he may prove to you very logically, that
you need never be sick, if you are only possessed of
sufficient resolution and firmness. All I say is — let
him try it ! The will has nothing to do with the mat-
ter, or if it has then the brain is not the seat of the
intelligence. [Mem. The Pacific is misnamed ; it
should be called the Terrific.] My state room is at the
end of a long passage, and down it comes the sound of

190 THE LOG OF A LANDSMAN.

much distress. The steward tells me that the Tarry
Yachtsman is seriously ill, and one of the men who are
" never sea-sick, sir ! " (there are two on board) is in a
dangerous condition. My only remaining, watery
hope is that they will both die ; the world can spare
them. I begin to think the world will have to spare
me. With infinite labor I managed to get up on deck
this afternoon ; how I did it I cannot quite say ; I am
not even prepared to swear I did do so, but I think I
did, as I retain a lively impression of seeing many
waves and much water in a state of disgusting activity.
I also have an idea that I grossly insulted some oner
and that he was only restrained • by force from knock-
ing me down. I wish he had ; I'd have turned to him
the other also with pleasure.

At noon we were in Latitude 35° 41' North ; Longi-
tude 126° 50' West ; distance from San Francisco
233 miles.

The night is closing in black and stormy ; the wind
is blowing hard from the north-west, and I am dis-
mally sick. I wish it were to-morrow !

MONDAY. THIRD DAY. — It is to-morrow! I wish it
were yesterday ! For I am, if possible, much worse,
oh, very much ! The ship is rolling her rails under,
and I can hear the Tarry Yatchsman exclaim at each
dip : " Oh Lord ! " What can he mean ? I have
passed the day wearily in my stateroom, and now the
darkness has shut in on us again. As I lie in my
berth, tossed this way and that, I feel a wild, at times
an irresistible, impulse. Can this be death?

TUESDAY. FOURTH DAY. — I am better ! I rejoice

THE FIFTH DAY. 191

that it is to-day. The sea once more looks blue, the
sky bright, the ship gay. I now think I shall live. I
am not sure of it, but I dare to hope. I am still un-
able to eat, but I can think of dinner without anguish.
I ventured on deck during the afternoon. How grand
the sea looked and — how dizzy it made me ! It was
raining hard, but it was rather a relief to get wet ; it
diverted my mind. I was doing very well until that
insufferable nuisance, the man who is never seasick,
(the other is not expected to live, thank Heaven ! )
recommended me to try a little bacon and molasses.
Then I hurried to my stateroom and had a relapse.
I'll have that man's blood if I live through this.

WEDNESDAY. FIFTH DAY. — I am quite well ! But six
passengers were present at breakfast and I was one of
them. I find I really like life at sea. True, it is mo-
notonous and very unpleasant — at first, but you get
used to all that in time. But what a constitution
Columbus must have had !

The air is grov.ing perceptibly warmer ; the officers
are all dressed in white duck and look enviably cool.
A rumor circulated through the ship this afternoon
that the Tarry Yachtsman was dead. Investigation
disclosed the fact that he had not been out of his berth
since the first night, and that he was still breathing —
but that was all. I suppose he is not accustomed to
steamers, and the vibrations of the engines disturb
him. He is only used to a "yot, doncherknow ! " I
feel peculiarly blood-thirsty to-day and should delight
in seeing the Innocents slain. The Tarry Yachtsman is
an Innocent. With the sinking of the sun the wind

192 THE LOG OF A LANDSMAN.

arose and blew hard from the north-east. I never
knew such a place as this is for wind !

THURSDAY. SIXTH DAY. — Last night was very rough
and the ship rolled her rails under. I collapsed again
and when morning came I was so occupied with other
duties that I quite forgot about breakfast. Some one
told me that I was a Jonah. He is mistaken ; I am
the whale !

By noon, however, the sea went down, and one by
one the passengers reappeared. I was shown a very
interesting contrivance by one of the missionaries. It
was a preventive or cure for seasickness, and much re-
sembled the popular form of chest-protector in appear-
ance. He said he had tried it on the bo's'n, and was
gratified at its entire success. Had also tried it on
himself, but the conditions were not entirely favorable,
and it rather aggravated than soothed. Even as we
were talking, he would leave me suddenly, and return,
each time looking paler and thinner. Poor fellow !

At noon we were in Latitude 26° 2' North ; Longi-
tude 146° 29' West ; distance run from San Francisco
1,405 miles.

All the afternoon the wind was light from the north-
east ; the sky was clear, the air warm and the sea a
deep blue, only broken * here and there by the white
crest of some lazy wave, urged into sluggish motion
by the soft trade-winds. The passengers have nearly
all recovered from their troubles, and are sitting around
the deck, looking very cool and comfortable in their
white clothing. What a pleasure going to sea would
be if we could only skip the first three days, and how

BETTER NOW. 193

delightful is this complete freedom from all responsi-
bility that one feels on shipboard. We haven't even
to think about living. The entire charge of our ex-
istence is taken out of our hands and given into the
keeping of the captain. Our duties are merely to
breathe now and then, and to eat when we feel that
way. And then again, what a tremendous satisfaction
it is to know that our dinners are secured and settled
on us until the voyage is ended ! It is true that we
may not care to eat all the dinners we are entitled
to, but there they are — ours on demand. It is like
having a balance at the bank.

The night shuts in upon us very quickly when the
sun drops down behind the sea on our right ; the twi-
light in these low latitudes is very brief, but we hard-
ly miss the daylight, for the full moon more than re-
places it, and sailing o'er summer seas is very pleasant,
truly.

The air is soft and balmy, but laden with the salt
moisture that the trade-wind picks up in its long
journey across the ruffled bosom of the Pacific. We
do not dance ; that requires too much exertion, but we
listen approvingly when the missionaries sing a mild
song, or watch the moonlight as it sprinkles over the
water on our left.

FRIDAY. SEVENTH DAY. — To-day all the passengers
are out except the Tarry Yachtsman, who still hovers
over a watery grave. The air is decidedly warmer.
I went down into the fire-room, but could stay there
only a few minutes. The temperature rose to 160° Far.
whenever the furnace doors were opened. A disciple

194 THE LOG OF A LANDSMAN.

of Calvin would have found in that room a practical
illustration of a sinner's hereafter.

We are almost within the tropical zone. We have
the same clear sky and dark blue waters that we had
yesterday, but were it not for the cool trade-winds we
should suffer from the heat. As it is, our only en-
deavor is to do nothing. We sit under the awning on
the hurricane deck and talk in a listless way, or are silent
even more listlessly. We look out upon the transparent
sea and watch a school of flying fish, frightened from
the water by our ship, and see them go scurrying
away, for all the world like a flock of birds. Now we
discover the fin of some huge shark, that is swimming
doggedly after us. Straight down we gaze and " nine
fathoms deep " behold, in fancy, some monster of the
sultry sea. The chambered nautilus floats by, and for a
moment we exclaim " Oh ! " rapturously, but only once.
The exertion is too great, even for this beautiful sight.
Our only thought is to be idle in the easiest way,
and so we pass the day, and at night we sit in the moon-
light and listen to the songs of the sea. One sweet-
voiced soprano sings Ariel's chant :

" Full fathom five thy father lies;

Of his bones are coral made;
Those are pearls that were his eyes:

Nothing of him doth fade,
But doth suffer a sea change
Into something rich and strange.
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell:

Ding-dong !
Hark ! now I hear them, — Ding-dong, bell ! "

And in answer to the call the ship's bell sounds
mournfully, one-two-three-four.

THE EIGHTH DAY. 195

Then the stalwart, red-faced captain growls out in
his deep, hoarse bass :

" Loud roared the dreadful thunder,

The rain a deluge show'rs,
The clouds were rent asunder,
By lightning's vivid powers.
The night was drear and dark,
Our poor devoted bark,
Till next day there she lay,
In the Bay of Biscay, O ! "

At eight bells (midnight) we turn in and dream that
the Tropic of Cancer has suddenly been materialized
and stretches like a chain across our path, and we can
only pass by going under or over it.

SATURDAY. EIGHTH DAY.- — The dream has not come
true ; we are in the Tropics ; anyone can tell you that,
for it is very, very hot. Our thoughts and occupa-
tions are the same as yesterday ; that is, we think
and do as little as is compatible with a mundane, or
semi-amphibious existence. At noon we were in
Latitude 21° 41' North; Longitude 151° 21' West ;.
distance from San Francisco 2,021 .miles. It is too-
warm to write more now ; besides, there is nothing
more to write.

LATER — We rapidly neared the islands, till at two-
o'clock in the afternoon we sighted Molokai, and at
half past three, Oahu, upon which is Honolulu, rose
to view. It looked very rugged and picturesque ; its
black volcanic rocks rising straight out of the sear
which dashed itself into impotent spray against
them.

196 THE LOG OF A LANDSMAN.

We steamed along the south-eastern shore of Oahu
all the afternoon, and at eight o'clock reached the
mouth of Honolulu harbor, where we were boarded
by the pilot. He was a grievous disappointment. I
-expected to see a stalwart native, clothed in his own
unconscious dignity and a ring in his nose, come out
to meet us in an immense canoe, rowed by twenty
men, similarly dressed with the exception of the
•dignity. The pilot was to board us and salute the
captain with a stately bow, at the same time expres-
sing a hope, in pure Sandwich, that he was well.
Whereupon the captain was to drop upon one knee
and humbly admit that he was well — or at any rate
so-so. Then the stalwart native was to lift him to his
feet and say : " Rise up- my faithful servant — and
let her come starboard." I was fully prepared to hear
that this native was no other that the king himself, or
at least the Prime Minister. But how was I dis-
appointed ! For the pilot was, in fact, a squatty
white man, with a divil of a brogue, a torn shirt and a
collar in the wash — where his shirt should have been
and he along with it.

With this fraud in charge we went on once more.
Out of the darkness on all sides of us, we could hear
voices uttering strange sounds, uncouth and harsh,
and now and then a canoe would be visible. After
what seemed like an interminable delay, we reached
the dock and landed with our baggage. Then, stow-
ing ourselves in a vehicle, driven by a native who
said he spoke English (and he did — enough to beat us
out of five times the proper fare), we started pell-mell
for the Royal Hawaiian Hotel. And we got there,

ASHORE. 19T

though how, I never can say. Briggs (he is the one
that was never seasick, and very nearly died), never
looks on the bright side of anything, and he found fault
because we were upset once in turning a sharp corner —
but Briggs wants the Earth, I think. He got a little
of it that time, however— some on his trousers and
some in his mouth — yet he grumbled still. For my
part, I was satisfied — I fell on Briggs.

At ten o'clock we drove up in front of the Hotel,,
and a few minutes later were settled in large, airy
rooms, cool and comfortable. But still I seemed to be
on shipboard, for the floor rose and fell, and the mos-
quito netting looked like the Zealandia's jib.

XII. MOLOKAI-DEATH'S VALLEY.

" For my part," said the Doctor, as he poured a
little water into his claret ; " for my part I don't think
so. You say, Jack, that Hawaii is as near Paradise as
you expect to get. Good— admit that it is, but
what does that prove ? Have you not said the same
thing of twenty other places ? Did you not say it as
you floated on the Lake of Lucerne, one moonlight
night ? Eh ! Did you not whisper it into the ear of
Donna Dolores, as you glided in a gondola down the
Grand canal in Venice, taking care the while not to
waken the duenna, her mother, who was lending
propriety to the affair ? Eh ! Did you not say it one
night in Cairo ? Or one midnight at Delmonico's ?
Come, you are altogether too quickly moved Jack ; too
easily influenced by your environment. You should
have been a poet instead of a rambler."

It was true what the Doctor had said ; and now that
I have cut my eye-teeth, now that I have seen the
world, the flesh, and necessarily therefore, a little bit
of the devil, I am convinced that Delmonico's is not
such a poor substitute for an urban Paradise. Take
it on a winter's night after the opera. What can look
more like a conventional and highly proper Garden
of Eden than the big room there ? Over in the eastern
corner we see a gay young fellow sipping his Pom-

(198)

PAKADISE AND HAWAII. 199

mery, tres sec, with his bediamonded Dulcinea by his
side. He stands for Adam before the fall ; she for
Eve, and mightily she looks it — from the waist up.
Then outside is the poor devil, who is turning a discor-
dant tune out of a wheezy box, and freezing to death
sixteen hours a day in order that he .may beg enough
to warm him the other eight. He is Adam after the
fall. If you want to see his Eve, go — oh ! go any-
where ; you can't make any mistake, God knows, about
a little matter of that sort.

But I have jumped from Hawaii to New York.

The Doctor's attack upon me was received by the
others with a laugh, and he was encouraged to go. on.

" You say," he continued, " because you've just eaten
a capital dinner" — the Colonel, our host, bowed — " or
because your conscience is not troublesome — probably
from inanition — or because your digestion is good and
your purse lined, that this is your idea of Paradise.
Good ! Admit that this is like it. But there was a
serpent hidden in Eden, you remember, and there is
a serpent in Hawaii."

" I thought there were no snakes on the islands,"
said Yan Baalen, the literal. Yan comes from JSTew
York, and otherwise than being rich, is not a very bad
fellow.

I found it necessary to defend myself and my posi-
tion, so I said :

" It comes pretty near my idea of Adam's sensa-
tions to be awakened in the morning by the perfume
of orange blossoms stealing into the room, though he
must have been quite incapable of appreciating the
poetry of it, since he had nothing to contrast Eden with.

200

I still maintain that Hawaii — as I have seen it

— is a very fair modern Paradise— with rural ac-
companiments. I have found no serpent here."

" And still I don't think so," persisted the Doctor.
" Do you for one moment believe that Adam ever
underwent the sorrows of breakfasting, in Eden?
Don't you know that he had a cup of chocolate in bed,
and never dressed for the day before eleven ? Com-
pare his system with the Hawaiian and be dumb.
Here, at eight o'clock, you order what you please of a
Chinaman, who doesn't understand you, and at nine

— as he hasn't returned — you look him up. You find
him asleep under a palm tree. It does no good to
kill him — I've tried that, and find it really delays
matters — for you must then get another waiter and
begin all over again. There is so much red tape in
Hawaii. The best way is to kick the fellow ; thu&
soothing your own spirits and stimulating him ; con-
vincing him in fact, that the Chinese must go. Don't
you see your error now, Jack ? Adam never had any
waiter to trifle with his peace of mind."

Here the Doctor absent-mindedly emptied the re-
mainder of the claret into his own glass and filled up
mine with water. " What I meant in the first place,"
he continued, thoughtfully watching a vortex ring
of smoke that Yan Baalen had puffed out over the table,
" was, that at this moment, while we are living lives of
comfort, enjoying health and mental ease, surrounded
by a tropical profusion of flowers, and gazing upon a
scene of absolutely fairy beauty, yet still we are within
striking distance of this serpent. We — "

AT LAHAINA. 201

"Let's go out on the veranda," interrupted the
Colonel. " We can have our cigars and coffee there
where it is cooler." And we arose and went out.

We had been dining with the Colonel, the owner of
a vast sugar plantation on Maui, one of the Hawaiian
or Sandwich Islands. His home was situated on the
south-western coast of the island, at a little place called
Lahaina. The house was a low, one-story building,
with wide doors and windows ; completely encircled
by a broad piazza, and embowered in a garden, in which
grew, with wasteful profusion, all manner of trees
and shrubs ; bananas, oranges, palms and huge-leaved,
wide-spreading exotics of the southern sea. The soft
air, stirred by the trade-wind, was so laden with the
odors of the rose, gardenia, hibiscus and oleander, that
it seemed to have the consistency of some rich syrup,
too dense to be breathable. Five of us sat out upon
the piazza there, the Colonel, the Doctor, Yan Baalen,
Kapana, a native Hawaiian Chief or Alii, and my-
self. The Colonel usually spent a few months of
each year at Lahaina, and with him he brought his
wife and two daughters, just grown to womanhood.
He was a portly, white-haired, red-cheeked old fellow,
and rich beyond the dreams of avarice.

The Doctor was a true cosmopolite. His father was
French — whence his name of Lebrun ; his mother was
English. He was born in London city ; lived the first
twenty years of his life in the United States, and only
the Lord knows where after that. Or rather, only the
Lord knows where not after that, — for I believe he
had been in every country on the globe, and had only
been prevented from exploring space through lack of
M

202

the necessary means of locomotion. He had been a
surgeon in the Confederate Navy during the war of
the rebellion ; attached to the Garde Mobile, during
the Franco-Prussian conflict ; had fought with the
Turks against Russia, and been in charge of a Bul-
garian hospital, during the little difficulty between Bul-
garia and Servia. And now he had come to Hawaii
in search of new excitement, after having just returned
from an expedition to the Arctic seas.

Kapana was one of the finest specimens of physical
development I ever saw. Six feet two he stood ;
weighing two hundred and fifty pounds, yet so well
proportioned that he did not look massive. His skin
was dark ; his short black hair curly, but not kinky,
and his face, though heavy, was not ill-looking. There
were a certain glitter in his eye and a heaviness about
his brows that gave him an appearance of sternness, al-
most ferocity, contrasting with the peculiarly mourn-
ful lines of his mouth. He rarely spoke, but smoked
like a furnace.

As for Yan Baalen and myself — nothing. "We
were merely travelers, seeing what we could one day
and forgetting it the next.

We all seated ourselves comfortably upon the wide
piazza, where we could catch a glimpse of the white
sea, and smoked awhile in silence. Within the house,
around a dim lamp, sat the ladies ; the Colonel's wife
and his two daughters, and two native wahine,
handsome, refined women, guests of our hostess. They
were playing softly on guitars, and humming mourn-
ful Hawaiian airs. The scene was absolutely enchant-
ing. Ulysses could never have deserted Calypso had

THE CUESE OF HAWAII. 203

she dwelt in such a place ; Telemachus would have
laughed if Mentor had urged him away from La-
haina — at the full of the moon. Thus was I thinking
when the Colonel's voice roused me.

" Suppose you tell us. Doctor," he said, " what is
this serpent that lurks in our Paradise."

" In two words," the Doctor answered, " I mean the
curse of Leprosy."

"We were all silent again ; we did not even move,
but I could see the cigar that Kapana was smoking
.glow hot in the darkness, and I fancied I saw his glit-
tering eyes and lion-like brows behind it. But of
course that was my fancy.

" There is no cure for the leper," the Doctor went
on slowly ; " no hope, no life. He is one of God's
accursed, doomed to die by inches ; avoided by men ;
feared and fearful. For even under the lime-light
of nineteenth century investigation, the disease re-
mains what it has been for thousands of years — a
mystery. And it is this curse, lurking in the green
forests of Hawaii, that has changed it from Paradise
to a plague-spot."

" But how is the disease contracted ? " asked Yan
Baalen. " You medical men must know that."

" No, not even that," said the Doctor. Again I fan-
cied I saw Kapana's eyes shining through the darkness.
" It is not contagious or infectious as those terms are
generally used ; neither is it necessarily hereditary. It
is not impossible that the poison may be carried by
mosquitoes, as is sometimes the case in Elephantiasis."

" An extremely agreeable theory, upon my word/'

204

said Yan3 slapping his cheek ; " there goes one of the
little beggars now."

" The inorganic world is a perfect world," went on
the Doctor, not noticing the interruption. " So many
parts of hydrogen and oxygen combined always make
water ; so many parts of chlorine and sodium always
make salt. We know to a surety that certain results
are invariably produced by certain causes. The laws of
the inorganic world are immutable. But in the organic
everything is uncertain ; there we can be sure of
nothing except Death, which really means the resolu-
tion of organism back to its inorganic elements. You
introduce a grain of arsenic into a gallon of water,
and that arsenic is always detectable. You introduce
a poison into the circulation of an animal, and it may
or may not be discoverable. Leprosy is caused by the
inoculation of an active animal poison into a man's
blood. This poison will generate the disease in one
person and not in another. Leprous parents may have
all their children tainted, or only one or two, or even
none at all. This may happen when only the father
or the mother is affected, but transmission through
the mother is more constant. Again, the disease may
skip several generations and reappear when the
memory of it has been forgotten. The circumstances
that seem particularly to favor its extension are a damp
and humid atmosphere, and a diet consisting largely
of fish. All these conditions exist in Hawaii, where
the warm air is laden with moisture and where the
natives subsist mainly upon poi, fruit, and sea-food."

The Doctor paused a moment ; then, seeing the look
of eager attention on the faces of Yan and myself, and

HOPELESS HAWAII. 205

being thus assured of at least two hearers, he went on
with his monologue.

" Leprosy is identified with the disease known along
the Nile and its Delta 1,500 B. C., and the disease
common to-day in Asia, Africa, South America, West
Indies, parts of Europe and Hawaii. It was endemic
with the Jews at the time of their exodus from Egypt,
as you may see by reading Leviticus xiii, and was
prevalent for hundreds of years after, as any of the
books of the New Testament will tell you."

" Is there no hope for Hawaii ? " said a voice be-
hind a glowing cigar tip. " Can the disease never be
eradicated ? "

" Never, I believe/' answered the Doctor, " short of
the practical extermination of the native race, and
that, at the present rate, will soon be completed ;
perhaps by the end of this century. When Captain
Cook discovered these islands, about a hundred years
ago, he estimated the population at 400,000 ; to-day
the natives number less than 40,000. Possibly this
fearful death-rate is what Herbert Spencer calls, ( one
of the mild and beneficient results of civilization,' "
added the Doctor, grimly, "but it doesn't strike
me so."

I was right about it : I could see shining out of the
darkness the face of Kapana, glowing with a dull
phosphorescence that disclosed his massive brows, under
which his glassy eyes glistened strangely. I rubbed
my own eyes once or twice, thinking that I did not
see clearly ; I pinched myself to make sure I did not
dream. But I was awake and I was not mistaken. It
was curious the others did not see it.

206

" I must say, Doctor," said the Colonel, "you have
not chosen a very agreeable topic to discuss on such
a night as this. I am used to this sort o' thing, but I
feel as if I were sitting alongside of an actual leper,
b'Gad, I do ! Ho, Puna ! bring us some more cham-
pagne ! Champagne is a good preventive, isn't it
Doctor?"

The Doctor laughed softly. " There is no preven-
tive but to keep away from the infection, but cham-
pagne isn't a bad thing to try," he said. " The disease
does not generate spontaneously but spreads by the

bacillus of but here comes the ladies; let us

change the subject," and out upon the broad piazza
they stepped.

" Didn't I hear you calling for more champagne,
papa?'' said Louise, the younger daughter. "You
have had quite enough, sir, for your good, and at this
time of night, too."

" Well, you know, Lou," said her father, " the Doctor
has been saying such unpleasant things I just wanted
to take the bad taste out of my mouth."

By this time the ladies were seated. They were
dressed in rustling gowns of white — dresses that
would have rivalled many worn at the Italian Opera
in Paris, or at a ball in the Faubourg Hue St. Honore ;
and out into the warm, sensuous night, as they came,
the frou-frou of the fabrics tinkling in our ears, the
sight of so much loveliness, carried me from the Purga-
tory whither the Doctor had led us, to the Eden where
I would be. The ladies grouped themselves together
where the light from the room within fell faintly
upon them, and was reflected back again by their

THE ENVIRONMENT. 207

white shoulders and arms. Talk not to me of the
pleasures of gratified ambition — greed — revenge. Old
campaigner though I am, I still believe there is no
joy so great as the tender sorrow of loving, and while
I was long past that sort of thing, I could feel for Yan
Baalen, that night at Lahaina, when he whispered :
" By Jove, Jack ! this is Paradise Kegained, serpent
or no serpent."

For I do not see how one could help feeling senti-
mental there ; the moon had at last forced a zig-zag
hole through the green roof over us, and the white
dresses and forms of the ladies stood out in superb
relief, like negative silhouettes, against the dark back-
ground of the tropical foliage. About their necks
they wore leis of ohias and gardenias^ and in their
hair, roses. Behind them, in the shadow, sat Kapana.

Yan, inspired by the place and the hour, sprang to
his feet, and addressing the moon-lit sea — and Louise
— recited the sonorous lines of Lorenzo :

" In such a night

Troilus, methinks, mounted the Trojan walls,
And sighed his soul toward the Grecian tents,
Where Cressid lay that night.

In such a night

Stood Dido with a willow in her hand
Upon the wild sea-banks, and waft her love
To come again to Carthage."

The ladies applauded him.

" What were you talking about as we came out? "
one of them asked.

" Comparing our present position with that of Adam
and Eve," said the Doctor.

208

" And which did you decide was the pleasanter ? "
asked Marjorie.

" Oh ! our own is decidedly better," said the Doctor.
" Adam and Eve had no father or mother to begin
with ; they knew not the flavor of Pommery sec, with
just enough ice in it" — here the Doctor sipped a little
from his glass — " they had nothing to gossip about,
and although they ruled supreme on earth they were
not even well dressed."

Louise modestly dropped her eyes to the diamond
locket that hung from the lei about her round white
neck, but the others laughed merrily. Our hostess
screened a yawn behind her fan ; this was not very
entertaining for her.

" Come girls, give us a song or two, and then we'll
leave the men to their cigars," she said.

And without more urging, they sang to us one of
the old Hawaiian songs : a mournful love chant, with
a soft thrumming accompaniment on the native guitar.

" Moa popo ku'u ike i ka nani
Na pua rose o Maunawililo.
II aila hiaai na manu ;
Miki ala i ka nani o ka liko

O ka halia' lo-lia i hiki mai,
Ke hone ae nei ku'u manawa
O oe no ka'u ipo aloha ;
A lo ko i hana nei."

Chorus — Aloha oe, aloha oe

E ke ona-ona i-ka lipo

Sweet Rose of Maunawililo,
Day after day thy beauty grows,
The wild winds kiss the sweet red lips
Of thy petals rare and ripe, fair Rose.

NIGHT AT LAHAINA. 209

Sweet memories often come to me,
Soft tender thoughts of days gone by,
When thou wert mine and I was thine ;
Before our hearts were seared and dry.

Chorus — Farewell to thee — to thee farewell !

Sweet Rose, my love, my life — farewell !

At length the ladies rose to go. It was very late, they
said, and they must retire. As for us, we could sit on
forever, if we liked ; it surely was too lovely a night
to waste in sleeping, but they had their good looks —
such as they were — and their complexions to think
about ; and leading the way went madam, curtesying
and saying: " Aloha oef" then the others: "Good
night ! Aloha to all ! " — and we returned to our chairs
and cigars. No one knew what time it was, no one
cared ; the air was soft, the moon still bright, the
cigars excellent. And so we sat on and on, until of
a sudden the moonlight grew dim ; the breeze which
had died down piped up again. In the foliage about
us the awkward call of the mynah bird was heard ; a
yellow light appeared in the east, and a new day was
announced.

" Bless my soul ! " said the Colonel, " it's to-morrow
morning ! I had no idea it w*as as late as that. "Well,
I think I'll take about forty winks, myself ; you gentle-
men can do as you please," and off he went to bed.
For my part I did not care to sleep, and I strolled
down to the beach and watched the surf as it came
booming in upon the sand.

Close to the water's edge at Lahaina stood a group
of royal palms, tall, slender and graceful ; their tops
formed of a cluster of leaves that waved lightly in the

210 MOLOKAI — DEATH'S VALLEY.

morning air. Back from the shore was the village, bur-
ied beneath groves of bread-fruit, banana and orange
trees ; while behind it, six thousand feet in air, rose
the ancient volcano of Eaka, its green sides split here
and there by dark, gloomy canyons. In and out of
the grass huts that straggled along the beach went the
native women, looking like gorgeously tinted butter-
fly s in their brilliantly colored garments. At my feet
lay the Pacific, stretching away for miles a sur-
face of deep, dark blue, save where the water con-
cealed some wonderful coral grotto, which lit up the
waves until they became the golden color of the western
sky in a September afternoon. Off in the northern
distance, floating in the air above the water, was a
huge purple cloud, that seemed to drift, now this way,
now that, as the hurrying winds, caught in some of its
cavernous recesses, whirled it hither and thither. The
color of the cloud changed with the changing skies
above ; now smiling as the sun fell full upon it, now
frowning as some wanton shadow danced over the
azure fore-ground. " Surely," thought I " there at
least, is Paradise ; such a place is too lovely for this
curse to enter. One could rest forever in those soft
purple beds, soothed by the lullaby of a Siren :

" Where the shadows are blue,
And the light is gold ;
Where the —

" And yet," said an unmusical voice at my side,
" that Paradise, as you call it, is the most dreadful
spot in the world." I turned and found it was
Kapana who had spoken ; Kapana, lusty of limb and
mild of manner, but in the daylight innocent of that

MOKNING AT LAHAINA. 211

ghastly appearance, so dreadful at night. <c It is the
living hell, hoaaloha* '," he said ; " the grave of the
living. Do not look at it too long, lest it poison your
eyes."

I smiled in amusement ; such fancies might do for
midnight but I was not so nervous as that now.

" Do not smile, hoaaloha," he went on gravely, " for
it is Molokai — dwelling place of the lepers. Look
again now ! "

I looked again. The shadowy outlines seemed to
have grown hard and black ; I could see the white
surf, beating on the dark volcanic rocks that formed
its iron sides ; I could see the yawning caverns that
led into the home of living fire.

" Let us go away, hoaaloha," said Kapana, seizing
my arm ; " let us go away. It is not good to look at
Molokai too long. I cannot ! I am myself pau loa i
fyamake — quite used up. Let us go away."

And we strolled down the beach, and for a while
watched the natives bathing in the tremendous surf.
At length he said to me : " I am going this morning
on a short visit to Wailuku, upon the northern side of
this island. It is my home — such a home as I have
left. Will you be my guest ? We shall go in a large
canoe — and be absent a week. You need take nothing
— I will entertain you in the old Hawaiian style. Will
you not go, hoaaloha ? Your friends are in no hurry ;
no one ever is in a hurry in Hawaii, and they will
await your return contentedly here at Lahaina."

And I went.

*Friend.

.212 MOLOKAI — DEATH'S VALLEY.

II.

"If you will take your seat amidships and not mind
a little water, we shall go through the surf all right,"
said Kapana to me, and so, placing myself in the centre
of the large double canoe I awaited developments.
Eight naked natives seized the boat, and upon the
reflux of a huge wave, rushed it forward. For an in-
stant, just as it met the incoming roller, it wavered,
but with a shout the men shoved us outside the
breakers and then clambered in, their brown skins
shining with the salt water. Kapana stood in the
the stern, steering-oar in hand ; his calm, impression-
less face and magnificent stature giving him the ap-
pearance of some huge bronze statue.

The wind being strong and nearly aft, a spe-
cies of mainsail and jib were set, and under these
we ran rapidly along the south-west coast of Maui.
The light canoe, following the motions of the long
waves, rose and fell with the rythmical regularity of a
a pendulum. On our right were the precipitous,
black lava cliffs of the island, against which the sea
beat with useless fury, while here and there, fantastic
cascades sprang over the edge of the wall, embroider-
ing the dark expanse with silvery threads.

" Is it not beautiful ? " said Kapana to me. " I see
it often — very often — and yet, I love it more than
ever now. How hard it will be to leave this to die.
"What have my people done that this curse has been
visited upon them ? " He pointed with a stately ges-
ture to Molokai, blue in the distance. "Is it not
pitiful ? My people are dying ; in a little while we

NEARER TO MOLOKAI.

shall be extinct ; the world will know us no more.
Why are we thus damned ? Is it because we were
once cannibals — idolaters ? But what can you know
more than others ? The curse is everywhere in Hawaii.
It reaches the high — the low — the rich — the poor —
though there are no poor in Hawaii — except they who
live there" Again he pointed to Molokai, growing
more distinct as we neared it.

" Listen, hoaaloha ! " he slowly continued. " I wa&
married, once ; I had a wife, and she was very beauti-
ful— then. And she bore me three children — they
are dead now, my children — and she is dead also-
over there." Once more he pointed to Molokai. "I
have not seen her in five years," he went on thought-
fully. " Five years ! White men say the Hawaiians-
have no parental instinct ; that we are incapable of an
enduring love. But I loved Kola and our children —
yet I rejoiced — yes, I was happy — when they died,
one by one, for I had learned of the curse that was-
upon them. Five years ago she was — she went awayr
though for a year before that I knew what was surely
coming. But she had to go at last — she who had once
been so beautiful ; she who had been called the Rose-
of Maunawililo. Her cheeks became seared, her
voice harsh, her — but pardon, this is unpleasant for you.
Look ! let us go a little nearer to Molokai ; we are na
longer superstitious about it, are we ? But we must
not go too near ; I do not want to see Kola again."

On we swung through the tumbling waters ; nearer
and nearer we drew to the land. It lost its cloud-like
appearance ; its harsh outlines grew apparent ; we
could see its walls of rock, rising perpendicularly from

214:

the sea for thousands of feet, here and there gashed
with deep, black canyons. It was well named — Molo-
kai Aina Pali, The Island of Precipices.

It was with something very like awe that I watched
the island as we ran towards it ; it was such a mysterious
place ; so awful in its possibilities. I felt, as though it
were the ante-room to the Hall of Death.

" Kapana ! " I said at last ; " do not go too near ; it
is not right."

" Fear not, hoaaloha " said he ; "I cannot go too
near. Look ! look ! " he cried suddenly ; " see them
there!"

I strained my eyes, and when my sight became ad-
justed to the new focus, I seemed to see strange figures
on the shores ; not men, and yet — not anything else.

" This is near enough, Kapana," I urged. "Near
enough ; I am a coward ; let us go away."

He made no reply, but kept the boat steadily on
its course, his form standing rigidly in the stern and
his glittering eye fixed upon the land, as if striving to
distinguish something there. Again I spoke :

" Let us turn now," I said — " we have seen all there
is — this is enough, and it has been very pleasant."

" No, it is not near enough," he said harshly, " and
the joke has only just begun. You may find it will last
for years." I began to think he was insane.

" See here ! " he cried, " Here's a joke for you ! "
He tore away the sleeve that bound his right arm.
" Look at this and tell me if this isn't a joke ! " The
arm was horribly scarred ; great patches of dead white
or black skin, showed the rotting flesh beneath ; at the
elbow was a festering sore, open to the bone. I

IN THE WATER. 215

shrank back at the sight — he was a leper ! Kapana
laughed discordantly at my disgust. " Ah ha ! you do
not like it, eh ! It is not pleasant, you think. But
you shall see much more than this, soon. Yes, wait
till we find Kola, my wife. She will be something
worth seeing, I warrant you. This is nothing — but
she — she will be a sight ! "

He was plainly beside himself, almost violently in-
sane, and capable of doing mischief — though I did not
realize it at the moment. "But you must not go
there ! " I weakly protested.

" But I will go there," he answered. " I want to
show you all of Paradise — last night you wished to
see it — now you shall have the chance. And my
Kola—she will be the Eve ! "

We were now but a mile from the land, and hurry-
ing towards it every moment. Frenzied at my own
powerlessness, I grappled with Kapana. I might as
well have attempted to overthrow the pyramids. His
enormous strength had not yet been undermined by
the disease, and he flung me easily into the bottom of
the canoe. But in doing this he lost his balance ; the
boat gave a lurch and I was in the water. With the
roaring of the waves in my ears I sank — down — down
— to rest.

Then followed silence and night !

Yet in one way I was conscious — I did not com-
pletely lose my identity. At first I knew who I was,
yet could not realize where I was, until all at once it
came to me — I was dead ! and I laughed to think I had
died so easily. Yes, I was dead, and these objects about
me were but denizens of the next world. Queer sort

216

of an affair, the next world is, I thought ; somewhat dif-
ferent from the common idea of it. And this little
matter of dying that I used to dread so much, is rather
pleasant than otherwise.

Then I felt myself swiftly lifted up by some
invisible force and carried onward through darkness.
There came a desperate pain in my heart — a clutch
at my throat. I experienced two peculiar sen-
sations— one, physical — a desire to breath ; the other,
mental — an attempt to think. I no longer felt that
buoyancy of spirits I did at first. With a shock, as of a
physical injury, my senses partially returned to me.
I drew a little cool air into my lungs — I tried to speak,
and my returning consciousness fled again. I knew
nothing — or rather I knew everything. I became a
mere idea — an abstraction. I felt that I could under-
stand the meaning of Infinity ; that I was an integral
part of it. And yet I was helpless — hopeless. This,
then, is Death — the final Death I thought — when my
soul is to be ground up into Nothing and this dust of
Nothing is to be scattered out through Space. Death
means Darkness, both to Body and Soul ; Death means
absolute Annihilation — eternal, black Night.

Slowly I felt my powers of understanding this,
fade. I knew that the end was coming — then, with a
puff, as of a candle extinguished, I lost all sentience.
It was over — the end had come.

Very slowly and very painfully I opened my eyes
after what seemed, to my returning consciousness, a
lapse of eons of years, and looked about me on a scene
that was startling and horrible. I awoke to semi-

THE AWAKENING. 217

consciousness with a feeling of melancholy, such as
the eaters of opium must feel, when deprived of their
drug. It was a complete relaxation of every nerve
— a loss of every hope. I seemed to have gone be-
yond death (I could realize what that meant then,
though I cannot now), and to have seen most horrible
and sickening sights, the memory of which was still
haunting me in the figures I looked upon. I found
myself lying upon an irregular plain, at one end of
which was a black wall of rock that rose perpendicu-
larly in the air several thousand feet, without a break
or foothold, absolutely impregnable.

Around me were clustered, what might once have
been human beings, but from whom now almost the
last vestiges of humanity had been stricken off by the
transformation that Death had worked upon them.
Here was a man whose hands were gone at the wrists,,
yet who waved the frightful, unhealed ends in wild
gesticulations in the air ; there was one, standing un-
concernedly upon the raw and bloody stumps of
his legs, shortened to the knees. I saw two women ;
the face of one was a mass of hideous corruption,
her nose and ears were literally dropping off ; in the
cheek of the other was a great hole that laid open the
half of her face ; her eyes were unshaded by eye-
lashes or eyebrows, her hair was of a disgusting
yellowish-white color, and hung about her head
in snaky, Medusa-like locks. In her arms she
carried a year-old babe, whose skin was clean and
undefiled — a really beautiful child — making the con-
trast with the others all the more dreadful. I saw
a woman whose head was entirely denuded of hair —

N

218

great white patches covered her dark skin wherever
it was visible, and she was blind — for in the sockets
where her eyes had once been, now swelled hideous
tubercles, red and slimy. A young girl of fifteen stood
by her, and she like the rest, was cruelly scarred with
great discolored blotches upon her face and neck, while
her hands were like a skeleton's — bony and stiff ; the
nails had dropped off ; the joints were laid bare by
festering sores, or were swollen and red ; her eye-lids
and lips were raw and bloody. And yet these people,
in spite of their horrible appearance, seemed not to
think of it. They were talking and laughing, one with
another, and pointing and looking at me — such of
them as had eyes to see with.

Their voices added another horror to the scene.
Harsh, shrill, discordant with some ; miserable, wheez-
ing, puny sounds with others. And when one of them
laughed aloud — it was the man without legs — I cov-
ered up my face with my hands, and shuddered in
ineffable disgust.

With an effort I controlled myself at last, and spoke
to the one nearest me. It cost me a tremendous ex-
ertion to do this, on account of both the man's repul-
sive appearance and the dread I had of hearing my
own voice, sounding cracked and shrill like the others.
But no attention was paid to me. I endeavored to
sit up, but the change of position set my head whirl-
ing, and I became deathly sick. Just at this moment
the objects about me moved a little and I saw, coming
toward ine, a strange figure. It was that of a man,
dressed in the garb of a priest of the Order of Jesus.
He was of slender build and erect carriage, and but

FATHER DAMIEN. 219

for a certain heaviness of brow, a glassy look in his
eyes, and here and there, white or brown patches on his
forehead and ears, he would have been a really hand-
some man. There was, in the lines of his mouth, a
look of benignity, combined with firmness, that was
very winning. He appeared to be about 40 years
old. He approached my side, and kneeling down
said in English, though with a marked French accent:
" Ah ! he is not dead ! Dieu soit remercie ! " He
poured out a little liquor into a cup. " Drink this !
it will do you good ! " he said. " No, do not touch me"
he added, hastily, as I rested my hand a moment on
his shoulder. " It were better you did not."

I drank off the liquor — it was brandy — and as I did
so the priest watched me. " I had only just heard of
your misfortune," he said, " and I hurried here to
you. Can you walk a little way ? "

" I think so," I answered, " although I am weak yet,

but where am I ? Is this ? " I was going to ask

if it was hell, but checked myself. The priest smiled
sadly — he understood my meaning. "Yes, this is
Molokai — Death's Yalley," he said, "and those
whom you see here are really but the dead alive."

He turned and spoke a few words in Hawaiian to
the hideous things about me, and they slowly moved
away, talking unconcernedly and merrily, in shrill,
discordant voices.

" You say this is Molokai," I said, " the asylum of
the lepers. But how did I come here I I cannot
remember."

" You were upset in a canoe," said the priest, " and

220 MOLOKAI-

brought here by the crew, who swam ashore. They
thought you were dead."

The whole affair flashed through my mind. " But
where is Kapana ? " I asked. " Was he drowned ? "

" If Kapana is the alii who was with you, he is still
alive," said the priest ; " but did you know he was a
leper ? Just now he seems a little insane — lepers are
sometimes afflicted in that way at certain stages of
the disease. But let us go to my house — slowly —
this way, M'sieu — voila ! "

And off we started together at a very slow pace,
towards a group of houses that stood a half-mile back
from the sea. As my strength and confidence gradually
returned to me, I was able to take note of my sur-
roundings. I found myself upon a point of land of
triangular shape, two sides being bounded by the sea ;
the other, or base, was formed by the wall of rock
already spoken of. The triangle was a high plateau,
that stood straight up a hundred feet from the water,
except at two places, where short strips of sand formed
landing places. The area of the triangle was about
ten square miles, I should say, and sloped gently up-
wards towards the centre. Here rose a high, rocky
mound, perhaps a quarter mile in diameter, forming
the extinct crater of the volcano of Kohukoo, its black
rocks yet undraped in green. But the sloping plains
about the crater were bright in the luxuriant vege-
tation of the orange, bread-fruit, banana, fig and palm
trees. The manienie grass clothed the earth with a
tight-fitting garment, while the flowers were every-
where. It was a truly noble sight, and made me for-
get for a moment where I was. But only for a mo-

REMINISCENCE. 221

ment. The very voice even of ray companion told
me that I was in the company of a leper, and reminded
me that this spot was occupied only by the human
outcasts of the world. As we walked toward a little
group of white cottages, the good priest, in a few
words, gave me an account of himself and the place.
He had landed on Molokai, he said, in September,
1873, having come from Belgium here.

Had M'sieu ever been in Anvers — in Antwerp?
Yes ? Ah ! then he had seen the Cathedral there ; did
not M'sieu think it the finest Cathedral in all Europe ?
That spire, so light, so graceful and slender, yet so
strong. And then that sweet carillon of bells ! "What
is that like more than an angel's harp ! And did not
M'sieu recollect those two paintings by Eubens ? Ah,
si magnifique ! (he crossed himself), the Elevation and
the Descent from the Cross. And the old fountain in
front of the Cathedral, that brave Quentin Matsys
made, and — but pardon, this was silly in him. But
he had once been a priest in that same grand old
Anvers Cathedral, and when he met some one who had
seen it, and its pictures and — and its delicate spire —
there is nothing in the world more beautiful, is there
M'sieu ? — he could not help it — it seemed as if he
were once more there. Jesu ! but it was a blessed
place ! And now he had other things to do besides
dreaming.

He had come to Molokai, he said, because he be-
lieved it his duty as a priest. He had left the old
world's comforts and its chances of preferment, to carry
God's word and the promise of Salvation in Christ unto
these poor people. And M'sieu can see that they need

222

comfort spiritual, since they cannot have comfort
physical.

" Do they live long, these lepers, M'sieu asks ?
Mais oui — helas yes, only too long ; it is sluggish dis-
ease ; all the more dreadful for that. Sometimes they
will be lepers twenty years and not die, yet growing
more horrible every day. Still, it is a mercy that
they gradually loose their sensitiveness ; the disease
deadens all their susceptibilities.

" M'sieu asks my name ! A thousand pardons, I
should have told it before. They call me Father
Damien ; it is my priestly name, as M'sieu of course
understands.

" No one can imagine the dread I had of coming here
in the first place, M'sieu. Again and again my heart
failed me ; I felt like an irresolute man about to com-
mit suicide. And yet, even while I halted, I knew I
should go, for I was ordered by a more than Earthly
power, and although my weak flesh protested yet I
came. I knew I was going to a living death ; that I
was forever giving up the world, but a Jesuit priest
must have no thought or fear of such things.

" Have I succeeded in my labors to my hopes, M'sieu
asks ? No — no one ever quite does that, but that I
have done good here I'm sure I can say. Yoyez,
M'sieu : I have built me two small churches ; I have
established two schools for leper children ; I have
preached the word to these poor wretches ; I have
taught morality and cleanliness, and brought some
little order out of the former confusion. It is small,
what I have done, but it is something. When I came
here in 1873 I found eight hundred unfortunates, liv-

THE MISSION OF THE SACKED HEAKT. 223

ing together in inconceivable wretchedness. The
dead were buried without ceremony, in shallow
nameless graves ; the dying passed away without
absolution. Now we have a hospital, in which the
poor can come to die ; they go not hence un-
shriven, nor are they buried without the rights
of the church. God knows my work has been
imperfect, but I have done my best, and when
my turn comes I shall be ready."

I was wonderfully impressed with his manner and
with himself. Since the Christian era began I could
think of few nobler instances of self-sacrifice than this
of which he spoke so quietly. Men had given up their
lives for country or for others, but none had deliber-
ately walked into the mouth of a yawning grave, as
this priest had — solely actuated by the desire to help
others— knowing that in time he too must contract the
dreadful evil and himself become like the loathsome
objects about him. To a sensitive man — such as he
was — there could be no greater torture than to see,
in the hideous faces that he looked upon every day,
the pictures of what he soon must be himself. He
had buried himself alive when he landed on Molokai,
and went to face a death that might be prolonged for
many years. If ever a martyr deserved to be canon-
ized, this Father Damien did, I thought.

By this time, in spite of our slow progress, we had
reached a little wooden church, whose short spire I
had seen far out at sea. It was painted white, and
the bright clean appearance of the building and the
grounds about it, was noticeable. Facing it, and a
hundred feet away, was a small, two-story cottage, also

224:

painted white, and with windows and doors shaded by
green blinds. Entering, I found the cottage consisted
of two rooms, scrupulously clean, but with bare floors,
and walls unadorned except by some pictures of Catho-
lic Saints, and a shelf, upon which stood a few well-
worn books. A couch in one corner and two rough
chairs comprised all the furniture.

" If M'sieu will come this way," said the priest, " I
will show him how to get dinner. Although it may
seem inhospitable, it would not be prudent for me
to prepare the food — I being a leper — but M'sieu
will find plenty of fruit, oranges, bananas and figs, that
are clean and untainted, and perhaps the juice of a
cocoanut, if he wishes it. Meantime I will attend to
one or two little duties and then wre will talk more,
for it is a greater pleasure than I can express, to meet
one with whom I can converse."

As I sat eating the oranges and bananas, I suddenly
thought of Kapana again, and when the priest returned,
I asked about him.

" If you mean the alii you were speaking of before,"
he answered, " he is alive, but he seems to be some-
what affected mentally. I believe I told you he was a
leper." I bowed ; I knew that before. " I think
he has been brooding over his misfortunes so long that
his mind has become unbalanced. It sometimes
affects them so, though usually the Hawaiians are
too ignorant and thoughtless to care about anything
whatever. But this Kapana was a man of good
ability once. All the other men in the canoe were
saved of course ; it is impossible to drown a Hawaiian.
Two of them are already lepers, though in the first

KALAWAO. 225

stages ; the other six are as yet clean, but such is their
indifference to the disease that they have decided to
stay here upon Molokai. But if M'sieu is not too
tired, we might walk out a little way over the land ;
we can then see something of this place. But first
let me tell you something of it."

" This point we are on," he said, " is the Leper Set-
tlement of Kalawao. It is practically inaccessible,
except by water, being bounded on two sides by the
sea and on the third by the pali. To this place are
sent all lepers, as fast as the Health officers of the
Government discover them. Once here there is no
escape for them but death. There have been landed
on this point, since the establishment of the Colony,
twenty years ago, 3,101 lepers — of whom 1,985 were
males and 1,116 females. There are alive to-day 689,
showing that 2,412 have died of the disease in twenty
years. M'sieu asks if there are but eight hundred
cases of leprosy in all Hawaii. Ah no ! There are
many more cases than that, four or five hundred per-
haps, but they are not known. The natives have no
fear of the disease, and will conceal a leper from the
officers, by hiding him in the forests, or under mats,
until the risk of detection is past. I tell you M'sieu,
leprosy lurks in the green forests of Hawaii, just as
the serpent lies hid in the grass.

" Each leper is supplied by the Government* with
weekly rations," continued the priest, " consisting of
twenty-one pounds ofpoi, or rice and^>0£, and seven

*The biennial appropriation by the Hawaiian Government for the care
of the lepers is $100,000, but this is insufficient and should be largely in-
creased.

226 MOLOKAI — DEATH'S VALLEY.

pounds of beef or mutton, besides a certain quantity
of milk, kerosene oil, and soap, and a small supply of
clothing. Those who have the means often build
houses for themselves ; those who are poor are housed
by the Government. There is a hospital, established
for the reception of the worst cases, and it is here
that the lepers come, one by one, to die. As M'sieu
can see, there are two villages on the point, the one at
the northern side is called Kalaupapa ; the other on the
southern is called Kalawao. It is at Kalaupapa that the
steamer lands, once in six weeks, and this is our only
means of communication with the world."

" And now let us see for ourselves what there is in
Kalawao. En avant, M'sieu ! " he said, smiling to
hear himself use such a military expression. And
picking up his staff and hat, he and I went out
together.

A little way from his cottage we passed a group of
children playing. Some were clean, but many bore
upon their bodies the unmistakable signs of the dread-
ful plague. " It is the pitifullest sight," said the
good man " to see these tiny children, all suffering
from the curse, visited upon them for no fault of their
own. Allons M'sieu ! there is worse coming."

As we walked slowly along, we saw advancing
towards us, two figures, and as we neared them I per-
ceived one of them to be Kapana ; the other was a
woman. She was dressed in the native Tioloku of red
cotton cloth, and it was not until we were quite near
that I perceived her dreadful appearance. Her face
was seamed and riven with the leprosy. One ear
had been eaten away; one eye was sightless. Her

THE ROSE OF MATTNAWILILO. 227

right arm was twisted and shrunken ; her fingers
were claw-like and paralyzed, while wretched sores
appeared upon her hands. Her hair was turned to a
yellowish white, her eye-brows were gone, and her
lips were raw and bloody. As if to accentuate her
dreadful appearance, about her neck, swollen with
the sores and scales of leprosy, she wore leis of bright
yellow and red flowers, and in her hair — her horrible,
snaky hair — roses.

" Ah, ha ! hooaloha ! " cried Kapana as soon as he
saw me. " And so here you are ! And you were not
drowned after all ! Never mind, there is no hurry
about dying. You've heard of Kola, my wife ? Well,
this is she." The horrible figure made a grotesque
curtesy and in a shrill voice cried: " Aloha oe ! " and
extended her hand as if to shake mine. But I shrank
away from the disgusting contact with fear. Kapana
laughed harshly.

u Ah, ha ! he cried, "so you are afraid she will de-
file you, are }^ou ? You who are so clean ! Are you
not glad I brought you here ? And is not my Kola
beautiful ? " and again he laughed discordantly, while
the thing by his side echoed it shrilly. He touched
his finger to her seared cheek. " See ! " he said, " here
is the Rose of Maunawililo ; it was to my Kola that
that song was written. Don't you remember ?

" The wild winds kiss the sweet red lips
Of thy petals rare and ripe, fair Rose.

"Look now at her sweet red lips?" and he pointed
to her seared cheeks, and grinned horribly.

I turned away in disgust at Kapana and his words,
and followed the priest down the path. A few rods

228

beyond we entered the hospital inclosure. The hos-
pital consisted of a dozen detached cottages, cleanly
whitewashed, outside and in. Within the buildings
were 48 patients, 28 males and 20 females, all momently
expecting to die, yet dreading death most strangely.
Never have I beheld such sights as I saw there. Of all
the sickening and repulsive libels and hideous carica-
tures upon the human face and form that I had before
looked upon, none compared with these new sights
in the hospital. Here I saw those about to die ; those
whom the dreadful disease had at last almost con-
quered. If one can imagine the appearance of a corpse
exhumed after being a week buried he may have an
idea of some of the lepers slowly dying in the hospital
-at Kalawao. On every hand was Death, in its most
horrible shapes. There was nothing peaceful — nothing
hopeful — everything was as dreadful as it could be ;
worse than I had before thought possible. It seemed
like looking into some tomb, and throughout all the
rooms there prevaded the peculiar sickening odor of
the grave, that but added to this impression. Here was
what had been a pretty child of ten ; now a loathsome,
rotting mass. There lay the putrefying, yet breathing
remains of what one time had been a young maiden.
All ages were there in the hospital, from the child
of a few years, to the old man of seventy, yet
all so dreadfully disfigured by the disease as to be in-
distinguishable one from the other.

The horrors of Dante's Inferno, I believe, were out-
done by the sights in the hospital. Death ! death !
•death ! on every side. Not that quiet, peaceful death,
where the smiling soul glides away into space and

leaves a benediction on the frame that so long gave
it shelter. No — here everything was frightful. It
seemed as if the body had long since died, and that
life was lingering in a corpse unburied, u whose only
duty was to die," and yet which could not. Through
the rooms blew the soft air from off the warm ocean,,
but it could not purify the corruption there. Outside,
the land was gay with the most brilliant flowers and
luxuriant vegetation ; everything was bright and fresh
and clean — within everything was foul and hideous-
Why could not these things die and hide their corrup-
tion out of sight. " For this corruptible must put on
incorruption" — it were a mercy to all if they did
now. The contrast between the fresh glories of the
tropical vegetation without, and the horrors of the
dying within was indescribable.

As the priest and I were walking through the
buildings, a native attendant approached and spoke to-
him in the Hawaiian tongue. He turned to me
and said :

" He tells me that one of the lepers is dying and I
must go to him. Will you not return to my house
and await me there ? I shall not be long."

It was with a feeling of immense relief that I turned
away from that Chamber of Horrors and hurried
back to the cottage, hardly daring to look behind me
lest I should see myself followed by some inquisitive
corpse : and I took my seat on the veranda of the
priest's house, thankful that I had seen the last of
those sights, which I cannot forget, and ye t* which I
am thankful my pen cannot accurately describe.

230

III.

"Now, M'sieu," said the priest, as he rejoined me,
" the first thing we must think about is how to get
you away from this dreadful place. I believe I am
consulting your own wishes when I say this, for no one
would stay here long unlesss " — here he smiled sadly
— " unless he has work to do. God sent me here to
labor among these unfortunates, and now I am my-
self afflicted. Yet I looked for this when I came ;
I knew it would surely happen, and so I am not cast
down. I shall labor here until the end cometh — but
this is not what I wanted to talk about."

He paused for a minute, then slowly continued :
" No, M'sieu, you must not tarry. Every moment that
you pass here is fraught with danger to you. There
is pollution everywhere. You have to-day seen what
a dreadful curse this leprosy is ; do not, I beg you,
stay here and run the risk of contagion." His voice
shook a little with the earnestness of his words, and
he paused a moment.

"Do not think me inhospitable, M'sieu, in thus urg-
ing you away, for a slow and horrible death inevitably
awaits you if you linger."

I could not help feeling moved by the good priest's
words and manner, and I assured him that I wished,
above all things, to escape from the place. I was
sick, soul and body, with the awful sights I had that
day seen — many so dreadful as to be indescribable on
these pages, and of which I have not even dared to
hint. No grave or charnel house could have offered
more horrors than I saw on Molokai.

THE WAY OUT. 231

"You may leave by the Government steamer,
M'sieu," continued the priest, " but unfortunately she
will not be here again in five or six weeks — perhaps
longer."

" Is there no other way, then ? " I asked. "Must I
stay here six weeks ? Is there no small boat in which
I can sail to Maui ? "

" None," said the priest. " No boat but the Gov-
ernment vessel is allowed to land or leave here ; the
lepers are forbidden to own canoes and indeed, they
are all too feeble to handle them. But there is another
way by which you can leave, though it is very difficult
and dangerous."

" It cannot be more dangerous than living here six
weeks," I said.

" No," answered the priest, " that is so ; it is not.
You must climb to the main part of the island, by
ascending that cliff. Once at its summit you can
easily reach the village of Hulahoke. The steamer
Likelike touches there every two weeks, and on her
you can embark for Honolulu or Lahaina."

" But," said I, " I cannot fly and so I can never
scale that precipice that rises three thousand feet
straight up."

" There is a slender path up the pali" said the
priest. " It is a very insecure one, the more so now
since a recent earthquake has rent the face of the
cliff. Still, I think you can scale it, if you are will-
ing to try."

"lam willing to try anything," I said earnestly.
" I must leave this spot, for I believe I should lose my
reason if I were to stay here a month."

232

The priest smiled faintly. "Yes, M'sieu, you
are quite right ! It would be wicked to rest here
unless you have work to do. Yes — you must go, but
not to-night. See ! the sun is almost set ; it will be
dark soon and no one can venture along the face of
the pali save in the clear light of day. To-morrow,
at sunrise, you shall start, and I will send with you a
native as a guide He is not a leper yet, though he
lives here on Kalawao, where his ancestors have lived
for many generations. Before long the curse will
smite him — it is as inevitable as death itself — but as
yet he is clean."

As the westering sun slowly sank into the sea, the
air which had been very hot all day grew cooler, and
the soft trade-winds blew a refreshing draught
through the cottage. We moved our chairs out upon
the narrow veranda, and sat there awhile in silence.
The long rolling surges of the Pacific beat with a
ceaseless shock against the black rocks that formed
the point. About us on every hand grew trees and
flowers, with the splendid profusion of the tropics.
The land glowed in its bright dress of warm colors or
looked fresh in the cool green of grass and leaf. In
front of the cottage stood a cluster of palms, their
tops waving softly in the breezes, and between their
slender trunks we saw the sea, red in the evening
light. Just as the sun touched the water the bell
in the little church tower tolled musically, and the
priest arose :

" M'sieu will excuse me," he said; " but it is sun-
set, and at this hour I hold a service in my chapel.
But perhaps M'sieu will care to go ? "

ORA PRO NOBIS. 233

" Above all things ! " I said, and followed him into
the little chapel.

It was a beautiful sight to see the good Father that
evening, and to note the earnestness and devoutness
with which he conducted the splendid services of his
church. Yet it seemed like a Mass in Purgatory to me,
when I looked about on the congregation assem-
bled there. For every one had been stricken — every
one was doomed, and upon the bodies of each were
the dreadful signs of their coming fate. Hands, fin-
gers, feet sometimes were gone; cheeks were festering,
lips were raw and bleeding ; voices were harsh and dis-
cordant.

Among the worshipers were everywhere the evi-
dences of approaching death. I saw children of
tender ages, upon whose elfish, wizened faces were
deep scars and furrows and blistering sores. Then
youths and maidens, who should have been enjoying
the health and beauty of happy lives, but who stood
there upon the edges of too early, and yet too tardy
graves. And old men and women, whose twilight of
life was black midnight, as mournful and sad as can
be imagined. But why go on ? I am only repeating
what I have already written — dwelling upon horrors
that are better forgotten.

As I sat there in the slowly waning light, surround-
ed by these repulsive remnants of humanity, the scene
was ghastly and fearful. And when I heard the
priest chant his Orapro nobis, I felt that if ever a
prayer were answered his would be.

It was with a feeling of relief and thankfulness that
I stepped out into the fresh air again, and felt the soft

234

wind blowing upon my face, and caught the sweet
perfume of the flowers that grew about the cottage.
Very late that night did the good Father and I sit
up, talking of many things, or looking off at the white
sea. For a while I was alone, the priest having been
called away to see some poor creature whose death was
happily near. And in his absence my thoughts were of
him and his noble martyrdom. Who says this is not
the age of gallant deeds ? I thought. Who says men
are less brave than of old ? " Greater love hath no
man than this, that a man will lay down his life for his
friend," said Christ. And men are doing this every
day ; in battle, in shipwreck, in burning building,
in engine-cab, where a moment's tarrying means
death to the engineer and life to the passengers be-
hind him. We read of such deeds constantly. But
this act of Father Damien's is of a higher order than
those, for he has thoughtfully and cheerfully entered
this Yalley of the Shadow of Death,

" Left tlie warm precincts of the cheerful day,
Nor cast one longing, lingering look behind,"

and knowingly stepped into the open grave. And his
heroism seems all the more splendid, when one thinks
that he went to Molokai, strong in body and active in
brain ; in every way one whom the world would have
welcomed, for graces both of person and of mind ; in
every way one for whom the world had charms. And
this man had come to this foul spot, under every stone of
which is hidden the curse, solely actuated by his belief
in a future life, and that it was his mission to point
out to these afflicted people the way to salvation. The
thought returned to me with increasing force, how

NIGHT AT KALAWAO. 235

•dreadful it must be to him to daily see in the
hideous faces and corrupted bodies, the pictures of
what he soon must be, and to know that for years he
will linger thus, growing daily worse; longing for
that day's sun that shall see the kindly earth close over
him, and for that moment when he shall stand forth —
•clean and pure— and take his place high among the
saints.

When at length the priest returned to the cottage,
lie sank down wearily in his chair. " Each day I find
I lose my strength, he said. " When I first came
here I could work the day long and not tire ; now the
.smallest exertion wearies me. Et maintenant — je suis
bien faible."

The night was a perfect one. In front of us stood
the palms, their leafy topr. swaying in the breeze ; be-
yond them was the white moonlit sea. Save for the
dull noise of the waves on the rocks and the mourn-
full note of some singer — whose voice was happily
softened by the distance — we heard no sound. PThe
little cottage was embowered in flowers, and the whole
scene was one of as much beauty as that I had looked
upon at Lahaina the night before. Yet there I had
been surrounded by men and women in perfect health;
the men handsome, stalwart, manly; the women as
beautiful as women could be. Sere at Kalawao I
had seen no man or woman who was not far uglier
than death; hideous, revolting libels on humanity,
•every one.

As the sun rose next morning I stood ready to start
to climb out of the Dreadful Yalley, into which I had
so strangely and unwillingly entered. Since my first

236 MOLOKAI — DEATH'S VALLEY.

meeting with Kapana I had not seen him. So many
things had occupied iny mind that I had forgotten
him, or if I thought of him at all, it was merely as a,
leper — one of a full six hundred. And since he had
not come near me again, I believed he had forgotten
me, which I did not regret.

I was accompanied on my way to the foot of the-
pali) which I was to scale, by Father Damien and a
young native, Upala by name. He was a descendant
of the original dwellers on Kalawao — an alii or chief
— and the only one remaining. He was a man of
great size, and proportionately strong. Since he knew
no English and I but little Hawaiian, our conversation
was necessarily limited. As we approached the tre-
mendous cliff it looked absolutely impregnable. For
a few hundred feet above its base, it was clothed in
a dense garment of green, but beyond that rose a
blank wall in which I could see no mark nor crevice.
At the foot of the pali, Upala, who was leading,,
turned abruptly to the left and skirted along its base
until he came to what looked like an irregular flight of
steps, hewn in the solid rock. Here we halted and
waited for the priest, who followed painfully and
slowly.

" Now M'sieu," he said, as soon as he could recover
his breath, " we must part. I am very thankful for
this brief visit ; it has given me great pleasure, but
you must go." I held out my hand to him.

" No, my son," he said, shaking his head sadly.
" You must not touch me; but I give you my blessing,,
and I rejoice that I can send one out of Molokai who
is not unclean. Say to the beautiful world you are

UP THE PALI. 237

going back to, that I am doing Christ's work here,
and that I am happy in that work. Say that the holy
message of the church daily carries comfort to these
poor doomed wretches. And now, adieu; — Pax
vobis cum ! " and he was gone.*

Once out of the grove, we halted to rest, for the
sun was already hot and scorching. Then I perceived
a narrow, zig-zag mark on the face of the wall, which
was the path we were to follow. At first the ascent
was easy, not steep nor perilous ; then it grew more
difficult, broken by ragged steps, or the path sloped
away from the face of the cliff, until it seemed to
give no hold for hand or foot. More and more slowly we
went ; once we came to an abrupt termination of the
path — a wall of rock rose in front of us. But we
surmounted this in some way, how I cannot now
recollect, and then paused to rest.

At first I dared not look over the edge, but in a few
minutes my nerves became adjusted to the situation, and
I enjoyed the sight. We were half way up ihepali,
iif teen hundred feet in the air. Off in the shadowy
distance, I could see Maui, but that was all that

* The splendid self-sacrifice of Father Damien is only one of many
instances of this kind. Twelve sisters of the Franciscan Convent of
•St. Anthony, at Syracuse, N. Y., have gone to Hawaii within the last
three years, and have devoted their lives to this work. Seven of them,
Mother Marianne and Sisters Crescentia, Martha, Leopoldina, Carolina,
Irene and Cyrilla are now living in Honolulu, in charge of the Leper
Hospital and the Kapiolani Home for leper children. Four of them,
Sisters Bonaventura, Renata, Ludovica and Benedicta are at the Malu-
lani Hospital, at Wailuku, on the island of Maui. The twelfth, Sister
Antonella, is dead. The work these noble women are accomplishing is
beyond praise. They have not been permitted to go to Molokai, though
the writer was told by one of them that she was willing and anxious to
•do so, and only waited the consent of her Superior.

238

specked the blue expanse of water. Below was the-
triangle of land, its outlines sharply defined by the
black rocks that formed its boundaries. Two clusters
of tiny white houses marked the leper villages of
Kalawao and Kalaupapa. Near the centre of the-
triangle was a great yawning hole, its black sides
uncovered with green. This was the dead crater
of Kahukoo, and as the shadows just then fell upon it,
it seemed to be bottomless — a fit burial-place for the-
lepers. Here and there I could see moving specks,
but a merciful distance at last veiled their hideousness.

Up and up we went once more ; the path grew nar-
rower and more slippery. Once I should have fallen
if Upala had not caught my arm. I shuddered as I
saw the huge piece of rock on which I had been stand-
ing slip away from the wall and plunge into the abyss-
beneath. I waited in vain to hear it strike ; we were
too far above it for the sound to reach us, for we were
suspended mid-way between sea and sky. The higher
we went the further off seemed the summit, and the
more fearful the gulf below looked. Nothing but
the horror of returning again into the Dreadful
Yalley drove me on.

At last we reached the top, hot, parched and
trembling with weakness. If it had been twenty
feet further I should never have succeeded. Even
Upala, accustomed as he was to such work — he had
ascended and decended thepali hundreds of times —
was completely exhausted. To add to our discomfort
the sun which had all along been shining hotly, was-
suddenly obscured, and a hard rain set in. We were
enveloped in mist, and the Dreadful Yalley below us-

BACK AT LAHAINA. 239

was shut out of sight. I was not sorry ; I had seen
enough of it and its horrors. If I could only forget
everything about it but the memory of its guardian
angel. Father Damien !

At five that afternoon we reached Hulahoke, and
two days later I was again carried through the surf at
Lahaina in a canoe — but this time I was alone.

IY.

" And so you've spent the last week in travel, Jack ! "
said the Poctor to me, as once again I found myself
seated at the Colonel's dinner table. "Well, and
where have you been and what have you seen, if I
may presume to ask ? "

" I have walked through the Valley of Death," I
said, " and I have seen the Serpent in Paradise."

Somehow, I did not feel like telling my story that
evening, though urged by the Doctor to do so. Every-
thing was too fresh in my mind ; the sights I had
lately seen I remembered so vividly that I could not
then describe them without a return of the same hor-
ror I felt as I looked upon the lepers. And so it was
but a short time before we rose and went out into the
open air. As we stepped upon the veranda, Yan
took my arm and led me off into a dark corner.

ujack!" he said seriously, "I've got something to say
to you, and this is my first chance. Do you know I
don't believe there is any serpent here ; this place is
a pure, unadulterated Eden. Look there if you don't
believe me."

I turned and saw the ladies, as once before I had
seen them, seated just where the moonlight touched

240

their white dresses and soft rounded shoulders ; I saw
the leis about their necks and the roses in their hair,
but I did not see, as I almost feared I should, the glassy
eyes and heavy brows of Kapana. As we stood there,
looking on the fair sight, one of the group turned her
head, as if to look at us, and the moonlight showed the
lovely face of Louise.

" And Jack ! " whispered Yan earnestly ; " see
there ! Didn't I tell you ! She — Louise — some day
will — that is — Jack — we're engaged ! "

Faith, I didn't wonder then that Van thought La-
haina the new Paradise ; so should I if I had been in
his place, or if I could only have forgotton Molokai.

" And Jack! " he continued ; " there is something
else. Do you know, old man, you've changed tre-
mendously since the other day. Seem to have grown
older. You can't be in love — for that makes a man
feel young. I can almost fancy myself a young man
to-night." (The venerable speaker was in his twenty-
second year). " I wonder if you know how white your
hair is."

" By the way, Jack ! " said the Doctor, as Yan and I
returned to our chairs; "there's one thing you cer-
tainly can tell us. What has become of Kapana?
The ladies are anxious to know."

But even that I could not tell them — then.

XIII. THE HOME OF EVERLASTING FIRE.

FIRST LEGEND.

An ancient Hawaiian legend* relates, that : " Once
upon a time the wicked goddess Pele dwelt in the fiery
lake of Hale-mau-mau, Home of Everlasting Fire, in
the volcano of Kilauea. Here in the midst of the
flames she held her court, surrounded by her atten-
dant sprites; the unearthly noises of the burning
mass were the music of their dances and revelry, and
they bathed in the red surf of the fiery billows that
dashed against the sides of the crater.

" Pele was the chief goddess. Her principal fol-
lowers were Ka-ma-hu-alii, King of Steam; Ka-policb-
i-lcahi-ola. King of the Explosions in the Palace of
Life ; Ke-ua-lte-po, god of the Night Rains ; Kane-
hekili, god of Thunder and I£e-o-ahilcama-]caua,
Fire-Thrusting Child of War. These were brothers,
and like Yulcan, two of them were deformed.
Makole-wawahi-waa, Fiery -eyed Canoe-breaker ; Hi-
aha-wawahi-lani, Heaven-dwelling Cloud-breaker,
and several others of longer names and similar defin-
itions. These latter were sisters.

" The whole family were regarded with the great-
est awe. The volcano was their principal residence,
but occasionally they renovated their constitutions

* Jarves' History of the Hawaiian Islands.

(241)

242 THE HOME OF EVERLASTING FIRE.

amid the snows of the mountains. At such times
their journeys were accompanied by earthquakes,
eruptions, and heavy thunder and lightning. All were
malignant spirits, delighting in acts of vengeance and
destruction. The numerous eruptions with which the
island was devastated, were ascribed to their enmity.

" Pele was of a particularly vengeful disposition ;
her greatest pleasure was to destroy, and often, with-
out the slightest cause, she would turn loose her
dreadful messengers and ravage the land. The least
irregularity in her worship, a failure in the observ-
ance of the smallest ceremony, was enough to precipi-
tate death and destruction upon the people. The
natives were the slaves of her priests, a numerous and
wealthy body, who were held in the highest reverence,,
and were thought to control the fires of the all-power-
ful goddess. To insult them, break their taboo, or
neglect to send offerings was to call down certain
destruction.

" Pele had also a very implacable spirit, and when
once aroused nothing but some great sacrifice would
appease her. Yast numbers of hogs were thrown into
the crater of Kilauea when any fear of an eruption
was entertained, or to stay one already begun. Offer-
ings were annually made to keep her in good-humor,
and no traveler dared venture near her precincts with-
out seeking her good will.

Often, ordinary sacrifices proved unavailing, and
human victims were offered up to mollify her devilish
anger ; and there is no tradition extant, wherein such
an offering is said to have proved unavailing. And

HUMAN SACRIFICE.

the higher the rank of the victim the sooner was Pele
appeased.

Once the great King, Kamehameha I, sought to
check a vast river of lava flowing down from Mauna
Hualalai, and which was carrying destruction to all
the land. Many lives and much property had been
destroyed, and still the flow continued. Thereupon,
Kamehameha, attended by a large retinue of chiefs
and priests, approached the river, and having cut off
a piece of his owji hair, threw it into the burning-
lava, after proper incantations, and the flow stopped.

In Hawaii it is known to be true that the sacrifice
of a single victim of the rank of Alii or Chief, will
instantly check the most violent eruption, when every
other offering has failed to assuage Pele's anger. And
it is believed to this day, that the goddess dwells in
Hale-mau-mau, the Home of Everlasting Fire, and
that the earthquakes and eruptions that devastate the
land from time to time, are the evidences of her evil
disposition, excited by some slight or accident.

SECOND LEGEND.

Another legend runneth thus : Once upon a time
— a good many thousand years ago, in fact — volcanic
fires were burning upon all the Hawaiian islands.
Then there dwelt in the huge pit of Haleakala (House
of the Sun), upon the island of Maui, a fierce and
wicked demon, Wahokiho by name. This volcano of
Haleakala was the largest in the world, being more
than twenty-five miles in circumference, and filled to-
the very brim with molten lava. And while the
demon lived in the House of the Sun, Pele dwelt in

244 THE HOME OF EVERLASTING FIEE.

the Home of Everlasting Fire, upon the adjacent
island of Hawaii.

Ever since the beginning of time these two evil
spirits had been bitter enemies, and each had striven
to overwhelm the other. Long before Man appeared
this contest raged, and language is taxed to describe
the terrible battles between the two, backed as they
were by the gigantic forces of the burning world, and
actuated by a fiercer than human hate. For hundreds
of years the combat lasted; the atmosphere was black
with dense, sulphurous clouds of smoke ; there was
no sun ; the ocean was boiling hot ; millions of tons
of molten lava were vomited forth, and in time the
Hawaiian islands were formed, built up from the bot-
tom of the Pacific.

For a long time the struggle was a very even one,
but at length the demon, being a little the stronger,
began to get the better of the goddess. Then she,
f orseeing her inevitable destruction, begged for peace,
and sent a messenger to Wahokiho, acknowledging
his superior power, and praying him not to destroy
her. The demon replied that he would spare her if
she would become his wife. At this Pele demurred,
for in the Hawaiian mythology, the rank of a god-
dess is far above that of a demon. She took several
days to think over the matter, and Wahokiho, becom-
ing impatient, renewed his attack. Thereupon Pele
hastily accepted his terms and married him.

As neither Wahokiho nor Pele were allowed to ap-
pear upon the surface of the earth, the demon dug
for himself a tunnel, running under the sea, between
Haleaka and Hale-mau-mau, and through this passage

A PANORAMA OF THE WORLD. 245

he used to go, when visiting his own or his wife's
house. And the story relates that from the marriage-
of the two dates the failing of the fires in the House
of the Sun. For, being no longer actuated by hatred
against Pele, and being, in point of fact, henpecked,
the demon neglected his duties as fireman, and little-
by little Haleakala grew cold, until at last it died out
entirely.

Then Pele, having Wahokiho in her power, and
hating him worse than ever since she became his wife,
drove him out into the world, and he is believed to-
have perished miserably, for nothing was ever after-
wards heard of him.

DESCRIPTION.

Upon the island of Hawaii is Hilo, its capital. As
we enter the mouth of the bay on which it stands, we
see before us a panorama of the whole world. The ca-
noe in which we are seated floats upon the broad bosom
of the blue Pacific, that heaves in long, deep respira-
tions— soundless until the waves finally break in surf
upon the beach. There we see groups of figures ;.
white men, half-bloods and natives ; some dressed in
European costumes, many only in their dusky skins.
They represent the three divisions of men — civilized,,
half-civilized and savage.

The town itself presents a delightful picture of a.
tropical settlement. It is buried deep in foliage, and
but for a few gleaming spots of white, and three
church spires, spindling above them, one can hardly
believe there is a town there at all.

The land about Hilo gives forth fruits and flowers
with prodigal bounty. The plantations of sugar-

24:6 THE HOME OF EVERLASTING FIRE.

cane are the finest in the world ; the kalo root grows
so abundantly that it is said the product of an acre of
ground — made into poi — will feed a thousand men
for a year. Bananas, oranges, and cocoa-nuts grow wild.
It rains almost daily in Hilo, for it is upon the wind-
ward side of the island, where the moisture-laden
trade-winds reach it, and so, with the hot sun and
the wet and eager earth, vegetation is rank and pro-
lific.

The eye, wandering over the scene, at first searches
in vain for something noticeable. A narrow strip of
white sand and a few dark figures, indistinctly outlin-
ed against the back-ground of dense, tropical foliage
are all one sees. But behind the town, rising some-
what steeply, are the rich lands and pastures of the
hill-sides. Here, as below, almost the only color is
green — deep, rich and fresh. Then, looking upward
still further, we are attracted by two snow-covered
mountain peaks, nearly fourteen thousand feet above
us; Mauna Kea, the White Mountain, upon the
right, and Mauna Loa, the Great Mountain, upon the
left; both often so veiled in clouds we cannot see
where the mountains end and the mists begin.

To the left of Mauna Loa, and ten thousand feet
below its summit, is the volcano of Kilauea, in which
is the Home of Everlasting Fire. When not hidden
behind the low-flying clouds of the trade-winds, we
see that Kilauea, by day, is surmounted by a pillar of
smoke, that rises up in air, until the breeze catches it
and drifts it away to leaward. By night the sky is
illumined by the glow from the fiery crater beneath ;

FROM THE EQUATOR TO THE POLE. 247

a great red canopy seems to be suspended from the
clouds and lends a gorgeous dressing to the scene.

The mystery of it all too, adds to the fascination,
for it is very unearthly to see^ through the mists of a
dark, wet night, that dull glare up in the sky, and to
hear, above the boom of the surf that beats eternally
upon the beach, a long moaning sound, that some-
times floats down the mountain slope. The natives
call it Pele's breathing. It is very strange, very un-
canny, and one cannot hear it, even for the hun-
dredth time, without starting.

Looking at the land from the bay then, we can go,
in imagination, from the equator to the pole in an in-
stant. At the water's edge the sun burns with a
tropical fervor, and the air is moist and enervating.
Back from the coast we shall find the life and vege-
tation of the temperate zones. There we northerners
put aside that slothful, languid feeling so oppressive
below. Farther up — upon the summit of Mauna Kea
— where the snow rests unmelted all the year round,
we shiver in the polar temperature of perpetual win-
ter. In Hilo we wonder what is worse than too much
heat, and look longingly up at the snowy mountain ;
upon Mauna Kea we think regretfully of the warmth
of Hilo below.

Besides the general interest that every mountain
posseses for us, Mauna Loa has a mysterious and awful
attraction of its own. For festering in its side, like
vast leprous sores on a giant's body, are two huge
volcanos, the largest living fires in the world. Close
to the very apex of the mountain is the crater of Mo-
kuaweoweo, six miles in circumference ; and ten

248 THE HOME OF EVERLASTING FIRE.

thousand feet below it is Kilauea, larger and fiercer
than the other, and within whose fiery precincts dwells
the wicked goddess, Fele.

One can form no idea of the awfulness of the deso-
lation, of the horrible, ghastly ugliness of Kilauea,
until he has stood upon the brink of the crater and
looked down into it. There are no words, no matter
by whom put together, that can describe the scene ;
there are no colors, no matter how cunningly mixed
and spread, that can picture it. One needs the vast-
ness, the huge dreary emptiness of space ; the deathly
quiet, save for the hiss of steam and the curl of the
sulphurous smoke, that rises in thin columns out of
the crater, to accent the horrors of the place to the
full.

Riding up from the sea, one comes upon Kilauea
very suddenly. The path has led us past sugar and
coffee plantations and pasture lands ; over slopes of
rough aa lava, so ragged and jagged as to be absolute-
ly impassable except along narrow paths hewn across
them. Then over expanses of pahoe-hoe lava, where
we have to pick a careful way, for the fields are seamed
and honey-combed with tunnels and subterranean
chambers. Once past these dangers, we enter a dense
forest, climb a steep incline, and pull up our horses
just in time to save ourselves from plunging into the
awful crater that yawns in misty expectancy at our
very feet.

At first we do not see it at its worst ; the extent of
its hideousness is mercifully hid by clouds. But
when at length these are slowly rolled aside, we look
upon a scene that is frightful in its malignant extent

BY PELE'S PIT. 249

and desolation. We behold a deep, elliptical pit, seven
miles around, walled in by cliffs, eight hundred feet
high. Everything before us is black as midnight, and
the rocks are so twisted and shattered and deformed
as to be absolutely hideous. A floor of black lava
covers the bottom of the crater, and here and there
through it rise columns of pestilential vapors, deadly
to life. It is a picture of fearful desolation, of death
materialized ; yet back from the edge a little way
vegetation grows rankly and densely. It is but one
more of the amazing contrasts one sees in Hawaii.
Kilauea has the same place in a landscape that the
leper would have in a genre picture.

As if to magnify the ugliness of the crater, we have
but to turn our backs to the pit and look upon the
magnificent white dome of Mauna Loa, or farther
away and more dirnly seen, the summit of Mauna Kea,
both gleaning white and pure in the sunlight.

It is at night that Kilauea is seen at its best, for
then the darkness hides the black hole, and conceals
the vastness of the huge caldera. But by night or day
we hear the sighing of the wind among the sharp
rocks ; the faint hiss of steam and that occasional
moaning sound, the breathing of Pele, that each time
blanches our cheeks and makes us start in nervous
fear. A little tremble of the earth, a sound as of
some giant gasping for breath, a pause, and then that
long shuddering sigh — followed by a moment of ab-
solute silence, that is even more fearful than the
sounds ; aYid the whistling of the winds and the hiss
of steam begins again.

250 THE HOME OF EVERLASTING FIRE.

When night falls upon the mountain,, we have sight
for but one thing in Lau Pele (Pele's Pit) and
that is the Home of Everlasting Fire — wherein
dwells the goddess. There are other pools of molten
lava within the precincts of the pit, but this, Hale-mau-
mau, is the one of them all. It is a long and danger-
ous journey there across the thin lava floor of the
crater. Great cracks yawn beneath our feet, leading
down, perhaps, to the end of Infinity. The lava be-
comes so hot that our feet are blistered, the rain that
is falling becomes steam ; yet still we keep on, until
we reach a jagged wail of lava that extends across
our path. Slowly and painfully we climb this and
then face to face we stand with the most awful sight
in this world. For we see nothing but the red blazes
of the Everlasting Fire. It is in front of us, to the
right and to the left of us. Instinctively we look
back, thinking we must be surrounded by fire, and
are half disappointed at finding only black space there.

At first the surface of the molten lava is smooth
and glowing, but even as we look it breaks forth into
violent motion ; now surging this way, now that, in
great red billows. Then, for an instant, it lulls, and
there comes to us that long deep sigh of Pele's
breathing, doubly startling, now that we are standing
on the very threshhold of her House of Fire.

When this sound has swept past us, down the
mountain, the lake once more becomes agitated, as by
a storm. The force of the billows of lava is tremen-
dous ; they sway in long waves, poise themselves for
an instant to gather fresh force, then rush oriward and
dash against the red-hot walls of the crater in burning

H ALE-M AU-M A U. 251

surf . ' At intervals the glowing surface is skimmed
•over with a thin coating of hardened lava, but this is
no sooner formed than the heat shatters it with a
wicked crack ! and the burning surface is again ex-
posed. Everthing we see is fearful, overwhelming.
The goddess Pele must be indeed a devilish spirit,
we think, to dwell in such a place.

As we stand watching the scene, a thick smoke-
•cloud slowly settles down over the burning pool, and
we turn away, nearly blinded with the glare. But
•a moment later, the wind brushes aside the dingy
pall, and then the lake appears in another mood.

At its very centre are four curious mounds, or small
pyramids, floating upon the surface of the lava, and
rising and falling with the hot billows of the flood.
From their apices spout forth flame and sparks, recall-
ing the most magnificent fireworks. And as we watch
them, they slowly separate, and in couples move to
opposite sides of the lake. Then they advance again
toward the centre, pause, swing with majestic undul-
-ations upon a high rolling wave, and slowly retire to
the edge. They seem to be dancing a minuet.
Again and again is this repeated, faster and faster do
they move, until at last the black smoke sweeps down
over the scene, shutting it out from view, and we
hurry away. Darkness falls upon everything, and
slowly and wearily we grope our way back over the
treacherous floor of the crater, and once more stand
upon the firm footing of the rocks about the Pit. The
smoke has cleared away over the lake and the misty
sky is red with the light from the Home of
Everlasting Fire. And as we watch the waving blaze,

252 THE HOME OF EVERLASTING FIRE.

there comes to us the hoarse rumble, a shock — a pause-
— and that long, deep sigh, as of a dying giant, so mys-
terious and awful — the breathing of Pele. Hardly has-
it passed when we see the ruddy glow in the sky
grow pale, and looking off towards the east, behold
the sun rising up out of the sea, once more to show
us new horrors and to announce the end and the begin-
ning of a new chapter.

HISTORY.

In the annals of Hawaii this is related : That once
upon a time — not very many years ago — two travelers-
had journeyed over the island of Hawaii ; had ascend-
ed Mauna Hualalai, Mauna Kea and Mauna Loa ; had
looked into the volcano of Kilauea and stood upon the
brink of Hale-mau-mau, the Home of Everlasting
Fire. Then, surfeited at last with the horrors of the
place, they had descended the mountain toward the
sea. Stopping at noon at the small grass hut of a
native, they left their horses there, and started to-
make a short excursion on foot, across an immense
field of pahoe-hoe lava, that lay at their right hand.

It is known that the hills and mountains of Hawaii,
being of lava, are undermined by subterranean passages-
and chambers, which pierce them, with a vast net-
work of tunnels and galleries. These are created by
the cooling of the lava-flow upon the surface, thus-
forming a crust, from under which the molten sub-
stance beneath glides. Often, merely short, blind
leads are thus made, but not seldom several passages
are united and form a curious labyrinth, in which one
unacquainted with the clue might easily become lost.

THE DEAD CRATEK. 253

As the two travelers, accompanied by a native guide,
were making their way with some difficulty over the
billowy surface of the pahoe-hoe, they came suddenly
upon a small opening in the field. It was circular,
about a hundred }^ards in diameter, an extinct crater
plainly, and though its fires had been dead for cen-
turies, its steeply sloping sides were still bare of
vegetation. The black rocks were covered with a
green, slimy ooze, and the pool of stagnant water at
the bottom of the hole was jet-black, smooth and
glassy as a leper's eye. A dank haze, which even the
hot sun could not dispel, hung over the opening, and
the only sign of life visible was an unhealthy fungus,
that clung here and there to the slippery rocks with
vice-like tenacity. Everything spoke of death ; the
crater seemed as if it might be some ghastly charnel
pit, and the mist that overhung it had that sickening
odor we associate with such places.

Yet, in spite of its repulsive appearance, the travel-
ers resolved to descend into it and seek a little shelter
from the burning sun, which was fairly splitting their
heads with its fierce rays. In the wall of the crater
—opposite to where they stood — was a narrow, verti-
cal gash, disclosing a passageway leading somewhere
into the lava field, and they thought that in the shadow
of this tunnel they should find some protection.

With much difficulty they made their way down the
•slippery rocks to the opening, and entered it. The
change from the heat and glare without to the cool,
half-light within was very grateful to the men.
Except for the reflection that came through the en-
trance, the tunnel was dark, but they could see that it

254 THE HOME OF EVEELASTING FIRE.

stretched out before them into the heart of the lava
field, until its walls seemed to come together in a
sharp point, with that curious effect in perspective
noticed in long tunnels. The roof of the passageway
was out of reach ; the walls about ten feet apart.

The curiosity of the two men was excited by the
singularity of the place they found themselves in,
and after a short rest they started to explore it a lit-
tle. But by neither threat nor persuasion could they
induce their native guide to accompany them. He
insisted that it was dangerous ; that they were com-
ing within forbidden limits and that Pele would be
angry at them for trespassing; that they would be
suffocated by gas and that they ran in the way of a
hundred other dangers. So they left him at the tun-
nel's mouth and started on without him.

They had advanced but a few rods, when a turn in
the passage shut off the light from behind them, and
they halted, irresolute. Neither was timid, but the
overwhelming horrors of Kilauea were fresh in their
minds, and they felt themselves still under the spell
of the volcano. But when their eyes had become ac-
customed to the darkness, they thought they could see
a very faint glimmer of light ahead of them, and to-
ward this they proceeded. Taught by the experience
acquired in their explorations in Hawaii, they ad-
vanced with great care, never taking a step until they
were certain it was safe. The darkness of the passage
made this necessary, and it was well they were thus
prudent, for twice they stayed their feet upon the
edges of bottomless chasms, whose existence they dis-
covered only by feeling their faces fanned by the cur-

THE SUBTERRANEAN CHAMBER. 255

rents of air that rose out of them, and hearing, far
beneath them, the faint sound of falling waters.

But the crevices were narrow, and across them the
men sprang and went on. As they advanced the light
grew stronger, until the tunnel widened and they
found themselves in a large chamber. An opening in
the roof, where the lava crust had fallen in, served to
admit the light, and the two explorers saw that the
room was circular in form, and about fifty feet in
diameter. The roof, which was thirty feet from the
floor, was supported by irregularly placed columns of
twisted lava.

Walking around the periphery of the room, the
men noticed three passages leading out of it. One was
that by which they had entered; the other two led off
somewhere into the heart of the great lava field un-
der which they were. Near the centre of the chamber,
and directly beneath the opening in the roof, was a
symmetrically shaped block of lava, not unlike the
frustum of a pyramid, its base being about four feet
square, and its height five feet; upon its four faces
were rude carvings and hieroglyphs, wholly undeci-
pherable. A thick covering of dust and fine ashes
lay upon everything, and showed plainly that it was
long since the chamber had been visited by man.

Upon the floor, at the base of the pyramid, the ex-
plorers found a very small and grotesquely carved
idol. It was lying upon its side, almost buried in the
dust, and had evidently fallen there from the top of
the pile. The blow had split it through the very
centre, but the two halves were still joined by a few
tough slivers. The image was made of some dark, heavy

256 THE HOME OF EVERLASTING FIEE.

wood, and emitted a faint odor, not unlike that of
sandal-wood.

Searching further in the chamber, the men found
four worn and tattered Kahilis — great tufts of feath-
ers, mounted upon bamboo poles, and often used in
native ceremonies. They also discovered three heavy,
knotted clubs, such as were sometimes carried by
warriors and priests, and used by them with deadly
effect ; and a pile of calabashes, lying in a confused
heap in the darkest part of the room and covered
with dust and fine ashes.

In spite of the ventilating aperture in the roof, the air
was strongly impregnated with sulphurous gases, and
the men, finding themselves becoming affected by the
fumes, started hurriedly for the exit. As they did so
one of them picked up the little idol — it was no larger
than a common doll — and placed it in the pocket of
his shooting-coat. Halting an instant, in doubt as to
which passage they should take, they heard hurrying
toward 'them, from somewhere in the heart of the
great mountain, the long, deep sigh of Pele's breathing.
They felt a blast of wind, rushing out of the tunnel —
then came the moaning, faint at first, then growing
louder — a hoarse rumble, and the rocks about them
creaked and splintered in the shock of an earthquake.
The men had never heard these sounds so distinctly
before, nor felt the breath of the spirit blowing on
their faces, and these gave an unpleasant reality to the
superstition. The awful fear which an earthquake
always engenders in the bravest, seized them, and for
an instant they were helpless. But with the passing
of the shock, they recovered their self-possession,

LIFE IN HILO. 257

and hurried from the tunnel out into the sunlight
again, and so on down to Hilo.

And in the course of time, they departed from Ha-
waii and went into other lands, and saw new sights,
but before doing so they were received by the Princess
Likelike, sister of the reigning king, Kalakaua, and
Governess of the island of Hawaii. And to her, as a
present, the travelers gave the grotesque little idol
which they had found in the chamber in the great
field of pahoe-koe, and the Princess accepted the gift,
and thanked them. Then they sailed away and
Hawaii nei knew them no more.

The people of Hilo had lived so long under the
charm of their environment, had so yielded themselves
to the influences of the enervating climate of the
place, and to the absolute freedom from care that was
their birthright, that they had come to believe the
world was made solely for them. Living though they
did within the shadows of two terrible volcanoes,
wherein fires were forever burning, they forgot the
threat thus constantly extended, or believed that
nothing could awaken those fires into activity. If
they thought at all, it was that within the boundaries
of Hawaii might be found both the beginning and the
end of the world. The Pacific lay broad before them,
but it led to nowhere, they believed ; it was only water,
and there were no paths on the water. And so they
passed their days in idleness and pleasure, and gave no
thought for anything save the Now.

Therefore they did not notice that night after
night the clouds that had overhung Kilauea since
before their traditions began, were now slowly grow-

258 THE HOME OF EVERLASTING FIRE.

ing brighter; nor that day by day, the column of
smoke grew denser and blacker, and spread out over
the cloudy sky until the daylight became dusk.

They may have perceived that the shuddering sound
of Pele's breathing came more frequently hurrying
down the mountain slopes, to startle them from their
sleep or revelry, but with the thoughtlessness of their
race, they noticed it only to forget it.

Within the Home of Everlasting Fire, a great change
had taken place since the two travelers stood upon its
brink. The molten lava had risen in the Pit, until the
immense caldera was full to the brim of a white-hot
fluid that surged now this way, now that, in desperate
efforts to beat down the walls that hemmed it in.
Yet for a long time the rocks resisted the blows, and
the people of Hilo lived on, undisturbed by the im-
pending danger.

But one night, they were suddenly awakened to a
realization of their peril. The land was shaken by
violent earthquakes ; we are told that three hundred
and ninety-one heavy shocks were felt in twenty-
four hours; the earth was never quite still. The
sound of Pele's breathing was heard with alarming
frequency, coming louder and more distinct each
time ; the column of smoke above the Pit became
denser than the air, and cooling as it rose, rolled back
down the slopes, darkening the streets of Hilo, and
then slowly drifted out to sea. By night, the heavens
were ablaze, and the land was lighted up as if it were
sun-time.

Then, of a sudden, the swaying of the earth ceased;
the side of the mountain was cleft, as if with a gigantic

RELENTLESS PELE. 259

axe, and through this opening there gushed a river
of molten lava, that hurried on its destructive way to
the sea.

Down the slope it crept — a huge, glowing stream
four miles wide — scorching, terrrible, irresistible.
It withered the forests with its fiery -breath, and
turned the streams into vapor. It plowed down
hills and filled up valleys ; nothing could delay its-
steady advance.

The natives, at last aroused from their apathy, be-
came wild with terror. They ascribed the eruption to
Pele, and sought by all known means to propitiate
her. Every sort of sacrifice was offered up ; cattle
and hogs by the hundreds ; calabashes of poi, fruit,
flowers ; everything that tradition showed had hereto-
fore been acceptable to the goddess— everything but
human life.

Yet still the flow continued, rolling daily nearer
and nearer to the sea, and still the volcano gave no-
signs of abating. All accounts agree that the scene
was one of awful grandeur — an exhibition of terrible
and relentless power. Many of the very old or very
young died overcome by terror. The teachings of
civilization were forgotten by the Hawaiians, and
Pele was worshiped as she had been before the islands-
were discovered by the white men. Yet all the offer-
ings made to propitiate her were of no avail ; the
mighty red-hot river still held its slow, persistent way
down to Hilo.

Then there appeared — no one knew whence he-
came — an old man, who announced that he wasKanoa,
a high priest of Pele. He was of gigantic stature,.

^260 THE HOME OF EVERLASTING FIRE.

and though of great age, carried himself as upright
.as a youth. He declared that the flow was an evi-
dence of the goddess's anger, and that unless she were
immediately pacified, Hilo and all it contained would
be destroyed. He told the people that Pele was pro-
voked because one of her secret .temples had been
invaded by impious strangers, the taboo broken, and
.an idol carried away. This idol, Kanoa said, was
"Wahokiho, once the husband of Pele, and demon of
the House of the Sun. By her direction, it had been
placed in a temple in the heart of Mauna Loa, when
she drove him out into the world ; and the priest pre-
dicted that with the release of Wahokiho from con-
finement, the fires of Haleakala would soon be re-
kindled and the old fight between the demon and
the goddess would be resumed.

This prediction, coming at such a time, added to the
terror of the excitable natives, and they clamored
loudly for the punishment of the men who had Broken
Pele's taboo. The Princess Likelike, albeit a well-
educated, intelligent woman, became herself influenced
by the popular superstition ; and from the fact that
she had been the custodian of the idol, ignorant of its
name and character, she believed that she had become
the object of Pele's wrath, and that nothing but her
death as a sacrifice would save Hilo and its people
from total annihilation. This superstition was shared
by the Hawaiians almost without exception, although
a few of the most intelligent believed that the re-
turning of the idol to Pele would suffice to calm her.

Meantime, these reports, coming to the hearing of
the Princess, served to confirm her in her belief that

THE PRINCESS LIKELIKE. 261

she was the chosen victim of Pele's anger. The
continued slow advance of the great lava river ^
the destruction of lives and property ; the increase
of the heat and smoke and the growing terror of
the natives, made the scene in Hilo a most extraor-
dinary one. Night was literally turned into day, and
the sullen booming of Pele's breathing, now coming
bursting forth more and more rapidly as if she were
growing impatient for her revenge, added greatly to-
the superstitious fright of the people.

On the evening of the second of February, the lava
was within a mile of the town, and before morning,
would reach the sea and destroy Hilo and everything
remaining in it. The place was deserted : not a soul
dared stay upon land, but the bay was crowded with
boats, themselves crowded with people, who lingered
near to catch a last glimpse of their homes. The
glare from the molten lava lit up the cloudy sky,
and the trade-winds, blowing the smoke up the moun-
tain, left the scene in full view.

The Princess, in spite of her fixed belief that she-
was the selected object of Pele's anger, had fled with
the others to the water, and was seated there in her
canoe, in the centre of a large fleet. She had but one
attendant, the high priest Kanoa. While all, white
and native, were watching the slow advance of the
lava flow, and counting the minutes until it should
reach the sea, two figures seated in a small canoe were
observed making their way swiftly towards the land. It-
was not until they had passed through the surf and
reached the beach, that the Princess Likelike and
Kanoa were recognized.

262 THE HOME OF EVERLASTING FIRE.

The two paused a moment there, when Kanoa
handed the Princess a long staff of bamboo, upon
which was fastened the idol of Wahokiho. Holding
this high above her head, she advanced alone through
the deserted streets of Ililo, straight toward the now,
now but half a mile away. When the natives saw her
approaching the deadly stream they set up the long
mournful death-wail, and chanted the song sung at
the dying of a chief.

" Ue, ue! ua make kuu alii
Ua make kuu haku, kuu hoa;
Kuu hoa i ka wa o ka wi,
Kuu hoa i paa ka aina,
Kuu hoa i kuu ilihune
Kuu hoa i ka ua me ka makani ;
Kuu hoa i wela a ka la
Kuu hoa i ka ino,
Kuu hoa i ka malie
Kuu hoa i na kai awalu;
Ue, ue! na hala kun hoa,
Aole e hoi hou mai. "

And as this chant arose from the singers in the
boats the Princess walked on steadily through the town
toward the lava, bearing the idol high above her head;
and louder and louder rose the wailing from the
water.

While all were watching her, a quick change in the
wind swept the smoke back down the mountains, over
the bay, and the figure of the Princess disappeared
behind the black, enveloping clouds. The wailing
ceased and all gazed at the spot where she had
last been seen. At this moment, there came hurrying
down the mountain the long, low sigh of Pele's

THE END. 263

breathing ; it ended with a shock, and those who were
looking saw the opening in the mountain, through
which the lava had been flowing, grow dark as the
edges of the gash were drawn together. The eruption
was over, and Hilo and its inhabitants were saved.

That night the land was visited by a tremendous
storm. The lightning was incessant and the rain fell
in sheets, cooling the crust of the lava into stone; and
in the morning the people returned to their lovely
village and began again their life of lazy indifference.

ALOHA !