The workingman's advocate. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1864-1877, 1873-11-15
Written for the WOKKINoHAS's ADVOCATE
BANDS OF STEEL;
OK,
| WOMAN OF The WORLD
~ WELDON .. CaRB, ~.
Part First. SOWING IHE WIND.


rs p fearful nj HI n The winter time,
And "a, cold as ever can be,
Tic Urge OF the winds i>hetrd like the chime
uf the waves uf angry
I The moon IS hid flr it, b4lcful hght
/ The storm flaps JUt with its wings tonight
And the - y, frum south to north,
! Not seen. the storm comes forth.
in the strength " a mighty .iee. 1k rEsrEsr.
One Wild winters day, IN the year lS4
while the earth. air and SKY betokened the
gradual approach Of rigorous season of
unusual severity, two men sat shIverin.5
over the remnants of a feebly fickerlng
ire IN a cabin, the only one visible iii the
extensive stretch of the whole Sweetwater
Gully. The unbruken monotouy Of mile af-
ter mile IF snOw-choked gulch and canyon
was dreary enough to the view, but the
awful truth which stared in the face If the
| two lone occupants of the dreary Cahfor-
MA solitude, was far more awful and desc
late than could be conceived. Ii was the
one truth-starvatiO this or an inevita-
bic death from the fast-intenslhed frigid-
ity.
But if starvation pleaded IlteousIy from
the bright, fever lit eyes Of the elder of
the twain, mortal anguish. which Mas
too despairing and entire for utterance,
cleaned III the eyes and made itself mani
test IN the counteuance Of his companion.
young man Of perhaps twenty-five.
| While the former sat shlverln and crouch
ing by the handful of blackenlng embers,
his comrade would arise To his feet with a
titiul start. and As the Wild wind walled
dIsmally without, would clench has hands
IN an agony Of Noe and lift his gaze ap-
peahn.ly above him.
Must we remain here and die n he
cried, as, turning IN one Of these spasmodic
exhibitions Of distress and anxiety. his
eyes came IN contact with the despaIrlng-
| ly wild glance Of his companion. 1T is
terrible TO die So young, SO utterly desc
late and lonely. With no friends near
not even the rough but honest miners, who
have made life endurable in this place with
their open cordiality. 1t is hard to die,
and thus Z"
He stopped abruptly, for something in
the mute suffering Of the crouching figure
before him caused him to advance quickly
and lay a trembling hand upon the other 5
shoulpsr.
Forgive me, Tom, he said, brokenly ;
81 did not mean to render you more dis
pirited than you are already, but it will
N1illts alitl NtuiiOA IL OphH diIl
no coward" he continued, with sudden
ferocity no man can call Ine that But
oh to think OF perishing here. away from
! all the world, isolated, lonely and dying ,
We can hope for no assistance-we must
only succumb to the fate which led us here
to Lucky Gulch to die, and leave no trace
of our former existence, forfriend or foe. .
He bent his head as he concluded, his
! bright, buoyant face overloaded, his
keen, penetrating eye dimming with tears.
1t was some time ere the silence was
broken, silence IN which both men felt
and understood their utter loneliness and
desolation.
Thought was busy in the minds Of both
as they stared at the dying embers and
nournfully meditated, that even as the
! flickering flame was slowl ly but surely dy-
ing away into the blackness of exhaustion
and sombreness, so were their own lives
slowly tuctuating over the awful abyss Of
eternity. Back through the past went the
minds of both. They thought over the
events which had signalized their past
eventful experience-the older of the
twain with sad regret over wasted OPP
portunities and chances for better life,
the younger with the wild, impetuous i'm
patience Of youth, with CALLING sense of
his grandeur of strength and fulness
Of manhood, united with a humiliating
sense of his powerlessness agains. the fate
which held him in bands Of steel
They were men marked with character
istics which strongly exhibited their power
and depth upon the well delineated fea-
lures. The elder, Tom Barton, rude and
miner-lke IN his every gesture, evinced a
forgotten but not utterly lost sense of the
refinement he had evidently once been
habltuated To, ever and anon in his sub
dUed manner and air of gentle subservi-
ence to his companions will. Sickness
was apparent upon his features, and it was
evident that he had but recently recovered
FROM period Of destitution and illness.
The younger man was Eugene Allerton.
In build, tall, 1.-THE, graceful, his face
abetted the elegance and natural refine.
ment of his poise and mien. The hair III
wavy clusters, the bronzed features and
small but labor-hardened hands, bespoke
the amateur miner. And miners these
men were-miners unsuccessfully in the
spot which now bade fair to become theil
grave.
They had belonged to that vast army OF
speculative madmen who, fired with en-
thusiasm at the news Of the discovery OF
gold in the far-distant Occident, had Joined
the fevered legion in their journey to Cal
ifornia. Thousands, overtaken by sickness.
and disaster, had fallen by the wayside, t.
fill forgotten graves in Ambitions buria
l ground, or to become food for the rowing
coyote of the plains. A mere handful Of
lthese adventurers had reached the Gala.
lveras region, had raised their tents in the
long reaches Of gully and canyon, which
Extended the whole width of the Sweet.
Fater Gully, and soon the gorgeous shades
sunset colors were mingled with brown
fsaged, red -shirted men, hard and earn
city at work, endeavoring to wrest the
alden favors from the bosom Of old mother
arth.
They were few in number, and sicknes,
sobn depleted the little colony Of q scort
t~less than ten. Then came the hard
: allps Of rigorous winter, and whsn sum
me aeain came there MsEs but 1--WE. Dis