Alpena weekly argus. [volume] (Alpena, Mich.) 1871-1893, 1873-08-26

two gentlemen one evening, at a
social gathering, the conversation
ran thus:
"You are an American 2"
81 am an Americana Califor-
nian."
"Ah 1! and is it true that your
people on the frontier have so
many rows? 2"
"Much that is said is true"
"And have you ever killed
man ?"
stared. I thought there was
an intent to quiz me. No. The
querists were two honest, innocent
English artists, who deemed that
nearly everything in the universe
worth seeing or knowing was to
be found in London, and that all
humanity living without the hap
by blessed boundaries of England
lived a vague, wretched sort of
existance.
l hesitate in my answer. Per-
haps one of the gentlemen mistook
that hesitation for momentary con-
fusion or remorsc, as memory, ag-
itated by such question, ran over
its long list of victims. He apol-
ogized. said that l had never
killed anybody. ] do not think |
was believed. My delay in ans
wering, raised me in their estima-
ton. They now held me West
ern Desperate, too modest to con
fess his crimes. The English have
quite a passion for the Academia
ruffian.
l saw now so wildly how great
had been my neglect, to have lived
full sixteen years in the toughest,
widest and most lawless camps il
California, without at least KILN!
one man 4; to have lived where tn,
shooting scrape" was semi-weelk
ly institution where every on
went "heeled" with derringer:
knives and revolvers where th
great pier glass behind the lar q
, the Long Tom saloon was treble,
in value by the bullet hole through
it, sent hither during controvers,
between DR.. B. and the sheriff.
now mourned neglected opportu
mites. could not truthfully say
a too, have slain a Peruvian !"
"But there is a great deal o
shooting and cutting among your
people ?" remarked the gentleman
/ perceived that these men were
hungry for a meal Of wild western
bloody fiction. 1t was cruelty tC
deny them.
l said: "Certainly. We shoo
much. We shoot often. We sboo'
socially. If, for instance, the com
pany be sitting about the stove
in the Rifle Saloon. and the con-
versation lags, and things generally
are dull, nothing is more common
than for gentleman to get up
stretch himself, draw his revolver
cock it, flourish it about his head
and proclaim himself the RoyaI
Bengal Tiger of the southern
mines. Then the sluggish blood
begins to quicken in the veins Of
some other gentleman, and he gets
up, stretches himself, draws his
revolver, cocks it, fouishes it about
and proclaims himself another Roy.
al Bengal Tiger of the southern
mines. Then, are heard ten ol
twelve short sharp reports. The
lights are blown out by the con
cussion. The Royal Bengal Tiger:
shoot round at random in the dark
and hit every body but themselves
The unhurt portion of the company
scramble behind the bar and under
the billiard tables, cry out, dom
shoot this way When the bar
rels of both revolvers are emptied
the combatants clinch, and, as they
imagine, cut each other all t.
pieces with bowie knives, although
when the lights are brought, i
turns out to be somebody else
Then the two Royal Bengals shalx,
hands, fraternize over drink, ant
go off together to the gunsmiths
to get their pistols reloaded. The
survivors pick up the dead ant
wounded. There is great dea
of talk over the affair for severa
days. The bodies are kept til
Sunday. Then there is splendit
funeral. The Odd Fellows, the
Masons, the military companies
and the temperance societies al
turn out, with music and banners
The Sunday School children, dress