The Oxford intelligencer., 1860-09-12

ed tnelr we faces, amId the rank CLOUD OF
their own tobacco smoke. Some of them
were playing cards, all fthctn drinking and
smoking, and 50 interiarcing their converse
ton With oaths all around, that any one
might suppose they were swearing on a
match. veg iEHf 70 tllfl sin 10 "'t''ih'l iel
'Jim Champel what new deviltry iswork-
ing in your mind that keeps you stilli You
look for all the world as you did when you
were plotting to get young j. in that
scrapein Nashville, where weforced him to
shoot Bob p, all because we could not
do as we wanted wth----=''T- sd h'Hoe
= i"Hush, Jack Martin l--you have said en-
ough about that" cried the man who had
been called Chanipe, and sitting at the head
of the table, seemed to be the head of the
party. "But can tell you what | was think
ing about. We have paid that fellow Ben
edetto, the hunter, a good many ounces Of
gold for meat, since we have been here" VI
'That's sol" replied Martin, while the rest
stopped talking and listened. '-' '"'art..a .a,
"Then I've been thinking that as we are
about to pull up stakes and leave these dig
gins, we might just as well have that back,
and more too, that he has slowed away"
continued the villain Champe.' I.HHa
"You've struck vein, and I'll follow your
lead in that or anything else that is devilish,"
-a.1 "
"But the fellow is desperate and armed to
the teeth, and some of us will go under as
sure as we try it," remarked another one Of
the gang. i.erH .'ii .-u-'' .'roo.
"Yes, if he were there when we went in
for our little game But have laid a plan
which will take him ten miles from here to-
morrow to meet me- If he don't find me-
which he won't--he'll wait for me two or
three hours there, and we are poor set of
cusses if we can't do all we want to do, and
be off clear of the diggius before he gets
back" .. LHf fn'a.I .J .a.
"That's So" cried Martin, filling his cup.
"Here's to the captain and his plan. Hur-
rah for both of them"
"One thing want you to distinctly un-
derstand, all of you," cried Champe, "the
woman is to be mine don't care curse
for the gold---but she must be for me-"
"Thats agreed to-ain't it boysl The
gold for us, and the woman for the cap'n 7"
cried Martin.
"Yes, yes" was the response.
And thus the dark plot was concocted.
Wearied with haste, for he, too, had been
impressed with the foreboding of some inn
pending evil, Benedetto reached the spot
where he had agreed to meet Champe-the
mouth of gorge, up which in following
game, he had discovered quartz bearing gold,
and signs of there being great quantity of
it. Some would wonder why he did not
keep his secret, and work it himself; but he
neither knew how, nor cared to mine nor
did he wish to be in close contact with men.
His wife was the sole companion of his
hearts choice.
He was like the writer of this sketch, par
don his misanthropic egotism-he loved the
wilderness and its gloomy grandeurs, the
rocks and hills, and lakes, and rushing
streams but he liked not the haunts of men,
nor them, nor their ways.
Having come with such speed, Benedetto
did not wonder, when he arrived at the place
of rendezvous, that Champe had not arrived
and he sat down beneath a tree, by the side
of a spring which gurgled from under a rock,
and after drinking from it, and laving his
brow with its cool waters, resigned himself to
patience, and waited the arrival of the tardy
miner.
For full an hour he lay there dreamily, and
then he began to feel less easy, and often laid
his ear to the earth, hoping to distinguish the
sound of coming footsteps, and as often
he raised it, while look of uneasy disap-
pointment settled upod his face. At last he
got up and strobe to and fro, growing each
moment more and more impatient. Finally,
after waiting full two hours-to him it SEEM
ed day-his impatience mastered all other
feelings, and shouldering his rife, he hasten
ed towards his home, not pausing to look for
game, or even to raise his gun to that which
fed aside from his hurrying feet.
When Benedetto reached point whence
he could see his house, from which, when
she heard his well known shout of return, his
sweet wife ever ran to meet him, he paused
for moment; but he was too breathless to
cry out and too anxious to 90 on to wait for
breath-and on he sped like chased but un-
tired deer, whose hope of safety lies in some
we'll known lake or river, where the hounds
will lose their scent. r...-
He approached nearer and nearer at every
leap, and wondered why Nero-a noble Mt
San Bernard, that always watched by her
side in his absence-did not run forth, as
usual, to meet him. He saw the dog, how
ever, apparently lying asleep before the door.
But more fearful were his feelings little la
ter when he discovered, from the gashes on
its body, that it had been slain. Where was
she whom it would have died to defend
With q wild cry Of anticipative agony,