The weekly Butte record., 1863-11-28


as much a source Of pleasure 10 me then
as peaceful serenity is at the present.
Some Of tie routes between one habit
alton and another was 50 long that one
days journey would not take me thro',
and then l would be obliged to find my
lodgings among the canes, rocks or trees
as best | could. Some Of the mountain
passes were very dangerous, ard a sin
gle slip or misstep, might send one head
long down hundred Or a thousand feet.
Then there were dangers from storms
and hurricanes, some of which were
terrible, and not least Of all was the
! dangers from robbers, who might be met
where least expected.
For six years carried on my pedling
traffic in that wild region, without any
other misfortune than some serious
frights and hair-treadth escapes. By
that time felt hat for a young man
l was pretty well of, and thought I
would return to Paris and set up shop
keeping; and an event, OF perhaps
should rather say tragedy, that happen
ed about time, fixed my resolution and
hastened my departure.
As was going over very wild and
lonely pass of the mountains, the sun
being nearly set and l at least seven
miles from the nearest habitation, my
familiar voice which had never left ne,
said distinctly:
"Piere BoiSant, beware -
| was alarmed at this warming be-
cause had never received warning of
the kind in vain. | looked up to the
rugged frowning rocks above me, and
down into the awful gulf below, and
then before and behind at the narrow
zis-zag path was pursuing, but saw no
living thing, except lage black bird Of
the yulture species, that was slowly
winging its way across the Wild scene,
as from one mountain peak to another.
| knew the voice was not human, and
felt there was some impending danger
but what it was, or where or when to
look for it, I could not tell. 1t was not
possible for me to remain where | was,
and to 60 back might be as dangerous
to 90 forward, and so | continued to ad-
vance looking carefully at every step,
and glancing keenly and nervously at
all the surroundings.
At length I reached a still wilder
and g,oomier place, where it was usual
for me, when on this route, to turn
off down into the dark valley to pass
the same night in a little cave, which I
had accidentally discovered about a
hundred and fifty yards from the path,
and which was 50 secluded and conceal
ed by ciump Of bushes in front of it,
that believed it was known to 10 one
except myself. Above this cave was a
steep led,e Of rocks. and by keeping
along the mountain side, without going
down into the valley at al, I could gain
position directly over it, at height
perhaps Of a hundred feet; and though
up to this moment | had not thought of
changing my course, now found my
self instinctively as it were moving off
in that direction. 4 moments refec
ton on the mysterious warning had
received, convinced me this was the
best thing could do; for if there was
danger 1t was most likely from robbers,
who were probably lying in wait for NE
on my regular well known roate-apd
as the night was warm, it could do me
no harm to pass it in the open air.
So l went on slowly and cautiously,
till l reached a point directly over the
cave, which l now found was as far as
l could 60 in that direction. owing to
the rocks terminating in a precipice a
a few feet beyond. Some bushes which
had struggled up from a little earth be
tween the crevices afforded NE a place Of
concealment; and crawling into these I
disburdened myself Of M pack, spread
oat my blanket, and proceeded, without
attempting 10 light fire, to eat the
food had prepared for my supper. By
the time had finished my frugal repast
the sun had set. and the dark shades of