Weekly Trinity journal., 1872-11-09
NUMBER 40.

upon an open spot where grass was abund-
ant and, after refreShment, forgot in the
narcotic languors of the pipe all physical
WEAKNESS and mental strain.
On the morning following we climbed
a lofty eminence that shot into the sky
like the spire of some Titanic temple, and
with our telescopes swept the unknown
country before us, serene and beautiful
under the tlattering tints of Summer
sun. To the right, and running nearly
north and south, laid another range OF
mountains, intersecting at right angles
| that through which we were passing-the
drawing below the ink-blot There, up
on the great face of Nature, was the real
ization of the penci-sketch and its SYM
bolism was as clear as light: away in
that central region to the south, the mys-
tic emblem Of the pick marked the locality
Of the vault of gold With the agitation
consequent on so sudden revelation,
turned toward Harper, with this interpret
alton OF the secret then divulgcd annd
he, too, was stirred to the inmost depths
of his imaginative nature.
On-on we went, in dream of wonder
and future wealth, and nothing mpeded
our progress now, until, at last, we enter
ed narrow valley, walled in by precipi-
tous mountains, and bordered on each side
by beautiful stream. We knew that We
were upon sacred ground and along the
shadowy fringe of the forest, whore the
fretted waters sang u barbaric rune, We
rode, silent rs spectres. a resistless
magnetism drew us on, and not q word
was spoken. Our very heart strings
might have snapped with their terrible
tension. We turned a projecting anglo
of the wood, and square, black object,
; halt buried in rank tangle Of weeds and
grass, was before us. We had found the
Lost Cabin !-nothing now but an empty
pen of scorched and blackened logs.
l disentangled pick from one of our
packs, and stepped within the enclosure.
1t, too, was choked with weeds and,
bending them aside, saw, grinnng upon
us in its hideous solitude, human skull!
Poor Harry The Indians had intended
that the cabin should be his funeral pyre,
but only the lighter materials of the roof
had ignitod, and the green logs had re-
fused to burn. | struck the pick into tho
ground, near the center of tho cabin
Once more lifted it, and drove the long
wedge Of iron to the handle in the loose
soil. The point fastened in some tough
substance and, at the same instant, Har-
per, uttering cry of mortal anguish, fell
heavily at my feet, as rifle shot roared
in my ear-and dropped into oblivion.
Then it was night-a long, staress, and
dreamess night of cloudcd intellect and
slumbering soul When the cunning
forces of Nature had repaired the fragile
structure, and the dawn Of reason came,
they were telling the story of a stage
driver on the Oregon and California route,
who, many months before, had captured
Il nude and sun-bronzed wild man-gib-
boring like a monkey, but harmless as u
babe-near the boundary line, and had
sent him north to Portland. 1t was tho
history Of my own rescue from the south
ern wilds.
For the rest, Harper must have fallen
by the accidental discharge of his own
rifle and my mind, strung by the high
excitement Of the search weakened by
the dospotsm Of one absorbing idea, and
dazed by the apparent interposition of
the supernatural, had given way under
the shock, and the mere instincts of ami
NAL nature had provided me with susie
nance and prolonged my life.