Eaton weekly Democrat. [volume] (Eaton, Ohio) 1866-1875, 1873-11-13
THE DEAD TOWN.

It was among the tangled ridges and
ranges of the rugged mining region of
Central Nevada, and the sun was but
little more than two hours high, but
getting higher and hotter every minute.
Along the deep ruts of the old wagon
road, which wound through a crooked
valley, there were riding two men of
widely different exterior, although they
both were sufficiently noteworthy in
their way. The one in front, upon
whose slow movements the other was
rapidly gaining, was mounted on stout
old mule, whose dull ambition he con-
tinuoasly assisted with hearty thwacks
of what was left of the stalk and lash of
a worn out q" bull-whip ;" and curious
sort of customer was he. His dress
was an odd commingling of the rags and
relics of civilized clothing with articles
of Indian make, not to speak of sundry
rude improvements" that spoke proba-
bly, of his own clumsy handiwork. His
hat, for instance, consisted of a greasy
and battered antelope-skin, stretched
over an incomprehenslble frame of will
low twigs and rusty wire, and had such
a +" flap down" behind and such flap
up in front as suited admirably a way
the wearer had of bearing his snub nsse
high in air, as if he perpetually discov-
cred something unpleasant in the sur
rounding atmosphere. It needed no
second glance of an experienced eye to
determine that that man had been a
long time &c in the mountains" In fact,
he was just returning from a prospect
ing and mining tour of prolonged toll
and peril, but of very satisfactory sue
cess and there is no other time in his
wild, adventurous life when your gen.
uine miner so thoroughly appreciates
his right to carry his nose as high in the
air as he pleases. And yet our miner
seemed to be in no particular hurry, for
all his occasional applications to the
tough hide of his old mule, and, least of
all, did he seem disposed to avoid the
man behind him.
The latter wore the uniform of q
United States cavalry officer, spick and
span new. with the shoulder-straps of a
captain, and general appearance of
having Just been to the barber's, that
was in strong contrast with the out
ward man of the mule-rider in front of
him. He was well mounted on a sleek
skinned and perfectly -groomed fat geld
ing-quite too fat for use in country
like that. The Captain, however, did
not carry his nose in the air, but rather
seemed inclined to send its long, sharp
point ahead of him on a general scout
ing expedition of its own.
"Hullo, stranger !" shouted the
man on the mule, as he turned hall
round in his tattered saddle; Sc say
cap'n, my names Bing. Do you know
if this 'ere's the right road to Crooked
Pine?"
"Can't say, my friend" replied the
captain "never was here before, an6
I'm just riding on ahead of my men tc
see what can find"
Wall, then, cap'n, this ERE is tn,
right road to Crooked Pine, and Tn
gwine right into that thar city myself
sure as my names Bing."
'All right growled the captain; 'tg'
in if you want to. don't suppose an.
one will try to stop YOU
"Won't they, though ?' returned tn
the man on the mule. Wall, 1 reckol
you never was inty Crooked Pine in ye
life, anil I'm just gwine right in there,
am. Mebbe it aint bad place for you
with yer army-blue on and yer cavalr
fellers comm close on behind ye. I ain