The Wheeling daily register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1864-1878, 1867-02-08
A Sketching Adventure.

Isn't it beautyr was my greeting
as strolled one morning into the salon
of our little inn.
"Isn't what beautyf' answered /.
"This pistol. Elliot bought it in
Bayonne Yesterday for my birthday
present. | think it's the very prettiest
| little thing of the kind | ever saw in
nv life; isn't it, Mr.. Campbellf'
i'My dear Mrs. Hardinge," l replied,
amazed, Hwhat in the world put it in
your head to want pistol What non
sense! who do you suppose Is going 70
hurt your
~ don't know; maybe no one, nor
nothing, and dare say it's very silly,
but when Pm out sketching or walking
by myself miles away from home, |
fancy shall feel more comfortable II
have some sort of protector with me,
although 1 don't suppose shall ever
meet with anything dreadful, OF course,
or shouldn't 60 alone"
"Well," said /, after minute examin-
alton, ''it certainly is n perfect little al
fair. Take care you don't shoot your
self, that's ALL" and with laughing
promise on her part to "try not" we
went out different ways for an hour or
two, to prepare as usual for the expedi-
tions of the day.
What blind moles we are, How little
did either she or imagine that before
another day dawned, her life would
hang on the way she used that little re-
yolver; that in a few hours her fate
would be to meet that something dread
full" so lightly spoken of just now, to
conquer it, OF die one of the most horri-
BILE deaths possibly to be conceived.
I'VE, We were very happy partie . gHGrrss; Isg
Elliot Hardinge and his wife; l, John
Campbell, and mine. We had got tired
of the coast of Biscay, where we had
spent the early part of the winter, and
taken to the little villages among the
Pyrenees, where there was very good
fishing, and occasionally plenty of shoot
ing besides. Our wives sometimes ac-
companied us on our excursions, but
very often mine, who was rather IN in
valid, remained at home, while Mrs.
Hardinge, n perfect slave to her color
box, would go out alone, sketching,
leaving Elliot and me to our own de-
vices.
Thus it had been arranged for the day
in question. Elliot, his wife, and l
started all together; but we two left the
lady at the entrance to small valley
which ran at almost right angles with
the tract of country We intended shoot
ing over; in passing which one day, she
had fancied some particular view or an
other would make good subject for n
picture, and determined to take advan-
tage Of the warmth of this unlucky
Friday to have long days work there.
Accordingly, we bade each other good
bye, and went our separate ways. She,
of course, went armed with her revoiv-
er, and plenty of ammunition, "for who
knows" quoth she, laughing, "but that
l may have to kill giant or two before
/ return"
At this point of my story i must
change places with Mrs. Hardinge, and
let her tell her own tale as she told it to
us long afterwards, when she had in
some measure recovered from the hOrri-
BILE effects of this terrible day.
"The weather." said she, "was so de-
licious, and the scenery SO beautiful,
that instead Of sitting down at once to
my work l wandered on, always be-
lieving / could cap the present view
with the one should get by just climb
ing the brow Of the next hill: this one
led to another, and that to still another;
and had only just begun to find out
that had straycd much further than /
had intended, or than, indeed, was quite
safe Mt this time of year, even though |
had grand new pistol to take care OF
myself with, when | awakened to the
very unpleasant fact that the sun was
rapidly disappearing behind the high
mountains to the west, and that shonld
soon have only moonlight to help me to
find my way back again. OF course,
sketching was now quite out of the
question, and turned round somewhat
anxiously to see what way-marks
could remember to have passed in the
morning. Luckily, though long, the
valley was straight, and in the open
ground just in front of the gorge by
which it communicated with the more
extended country beyond, there was
group of cork trees, the peculiar shape
of which rendered them distinguishable
from the brushwood which clothed tho
bases of the mountains. Luckily, too,
the valley, PERCEPTIONS and rugged on
either side, had nearly even ground,
perhaps half mile wide, upon which,
when once reached, the walking would
be easy. So, though the trees were q
good three miles of, and was already
sufficiently tired, l calculated that !
should reach them in about an hOnr and
half, all hindrances considered, and
once there, / should be only one mile
from the inn: aud after all, ! fattered
myself could get home before YOU" she
said, addressing her husband, "and the
others had begun to be frightened about
me-"
"Off l started, therefore, and walked
away with q will. In less than half an
hour the sun set, and for awhile it was
almost totally dark. To press on, not
minding the stumbles and occasional
falls, and to keep up as brave heart as
/ could, was all that was possible; and !
had got nearly to the end Of the last
wood, close to the open ground (Which
had not dared try to reach by direct
scramble in the dark) and could sec tho
cork trees looming large in the glimmer
of the rising moon, when thought l
heard peculiar cry far away behind
me, and paused for moment to listen,
thinking there might possibly be some
belated wanderer in the dark as well as
myself. ...
For only one moment. The next was
rushing along as fast as terror could
drive me, sketching things, cloak, um-
brella, everything which might impede
my flight flung away; for in that mo-
ment all I had ever heard Of the now
seldom seen Pyrenean dogs, their terri
bly, acute scent, and horrible ferocity,
flashed through my mind, and l knew
by instinct that the sound had heard
was the cry of one of them as it had
stumbled ON my trail, and that the whole
pack would be upon me long, l feared,
ere could get even as far as the cork
trees.
"At first, as / fed along wildly, gave
myself up for lost, for the idea Of de-
Tending myself never once occurred to
me, so paralysed was with fear; but as
/ went on and heard the occasional cry,
and hungry yapping always nsarer and
nearer, the horror of the threatened
deafh n ronaad in fua n cnurage i had