Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1871-03-21

VERY COOL.

A mountain trial-a narrow, tortuous,
difficult path. Two miners, with their es-
tates tied up in ropes and slung across
their backs, scrabling wearily up it. Just
at the steepest part the foremost halted
short, turned about, deliberately unslung
his pack, sat down upon it, and sighed.
As he looked across the green expanse of
the valley below, to the brown majesty of
the opposite mountain range, and over in
to fathomless either beyond, look not Of
earth crept into his eyes, impressing his
face with something of the glory Of the
TRANSPORTATION. His companion, rough
and hard though he was, observed the
change and appeared to have some vague
and imperfect idea of his nature, for with
out word, he grounded his own baggage
and sat himself thoughtfully upon rock.
For some time the two maintained q 81
lence which was intensified rather than
broken by the just disting guishable muir
muir Of the river thousand feet below.
The wind whispered Its eternal secret to
the pines, and the sun flaming grandly
above, flung wave after wave of light
against the hills, which sent back faint
pulsations of heat, as if it were an echo.
"Jim"-and the voice Of the miner was
choked and husky, as if troubled in its
lower depths by some struggling emotion
Jim we two've been good friends
amt we ?''
Whether 1t was because he did not thor
oughly know what was coming, and 30 de-
clined to commit himself, or whether he
had a delicate consciousness that to reply =
to such a question would imply q miscon-
struction Of its purport, Jim maintained
grave silence, merely shifting his great
hands alternately. the one above the 9TH
er, upon the vertical handle of his pick
The uncertain light in the eyes Of the
speaker grew by imperceptible degrees
into positive gleam of intense longing,
as he continued:
Jim, I'm not feller to ask favors you
know that Ever since We two've been
pardners, you've never knowed me to git
man to hold my dust while attend to
the cards, without my bein wilin' to hold
hisn the same. Now, pardner, / feel
that can't drift no further on this level,
and guess I've got to go down lower.
But fore | go, want you to tell me, hon.
est who twas shot me that night at the
fandango over to Spanish Camp. The
thought that | was fired into by some
stranger who wasn't a-takin' no hand, and
come near havin' my light snufed out by
some one unbeknowns to me is not a good
thought to die on. When get down yon-
der, and they ask me who made this yer
hole in yer back?' I'd like to tell 'em, so't
they could spot him when he comes.
'Taint no case for human justice; we
haven't got nothing invented yet as'd do it
right TO him. And, Jim, don't you never
60 for him yourself; that mans too mean
for killin'." The dying man ceased, but
Jim bowed his head lower and lower over
the pick-handle in silence, and seemed
struggling to suppress sob. Finally he
asked, in an almost inaudible tone:
bill are yoa quite sure you're a-playin'
out fast?"
I'm a-coilin' up my RATA, Jim.'
''How long mout you last yet? ?"
Not more'n ten minutes at the outside
Jim Strengthened himself up on his rock
with jerk
'Bill, won't never get after that feller
-lestways, not till l commit suicide. l
fired that shot that's a-doin' for YOU" Then
half apologetically; II didn't know you
then, Bill, or shouldn't shot without
singin' out to you that was ON it."
That extremely moribund miner rose to
his feet; more properly, there was vast
upheaval of his frame, which seemed to
expand at every point as it finally lowered
aloft like blasted cedar.
Jim he famed out, "board's fair play
and ever since we two've been pardners
you never knowed me to take back card
But in saying what did about human in
Justice, ! throwed away a queen when
knowed held bower. Jim. take back
that play; I'm after your scalp, pardner!"
The spot is still pointed out to the trav-
eler. Overland Monthly