Washington standard. [volume] (Olympia, Wash. Territory) 1860-1921, 1876-02-19
A Mountain Court Scene.


elected to fill the responsible position
of Justice OF the Peace, and this was
the first case which had demanded his
attention.
Job was an old veteran mountaineer,
and had lived in the shadow of the lofty
peaks, hunting, trapping and fighting
Indians, to use his own words, "Sense
Adam was a kid" In that rough
country an accusation of great crime
against any one is but forerunner of a
hanging" and a trial even is seldom
thought of. But in the present case a
wild cuss, who had been frequent
ing the settlements, had appropriated
a" broncho," (Inaian pony belonging
to a neighboring ranchmen, and had
been pursued, captured and brought
back. Old Job was summoned to try
the culprit, and a spot in the rocky
gulch near the 'Squire's cabin was Sc
lected as the site for the investigation.
A motley crowd of hunters, traprcrs,
miners and rancheros had assembled.
Some were lying upon the ground and
others were sitting upon the rocks, all
anxiously awaiting the 'Squire's coming.
Job soon came from toward his cabin,
and with dignified air seated himself
upon boulder, took off his bear-skin
cap. and said:
Fellers, the Court ar ready to get
down to biz, an I want yer all to cheese
yer racket an let up on that chin music
accordin' to law. Throw yer har in
sight an pay 'tenshun to the Court"
Every hat came off at his command
and His Honor glanced around the cir
Gle, md said:
&c Whar is the dam cuss?"
Three mountaineers, armed with
Henry iifes and six shooters stepped
forward with the thief, o young man,
wearing bold, devil-may- -care-expres-
sion. His hands were securely fastened
behind his back with buckskin thongs.
Clad in buckskin from head to foot, he
presented picturesque appearance as
he faced the Squire.
"W'at do they call yer when yer to
homer" asked the Court.
"Ain't got emmy home, leastwise in
these parts;" sullenly replied the pris-
oner
"Ain't hey? Well, watts the name
yer TUX when you left the States,
then?"
"The boysyer on the hills call me
Tiger jim"
" Wall, Tige, yer spotted as hoss
thief, an I reckon there's suthin' in it
or the boys wouldn't a bro't yer in.
You can't expect toney trial like
you'd get down to Laramie or in eny of
paper, pens or ink, or eny of that sort
Of foolishness up hyer in the hills, an
ther amt one of us could engineer 'em
if We had, SO we'll just grind her
through, an do the best we kin for
yer. In the name of the law now ok
you did you collar that hoss-but stop
'er rite thar, doggone it, forgot to
swar you. Cum mitey near forgittin'
it. Hold up yer rite han!"
"Hold up nothin'. How kin I when
they're tied titer'n blazes?"
" That's so. Yer k'rect, Tiger, but
CESS eny member O. the body'll be
'cordin' to law in extreme ases;-steddy
him little, fellers, SOS he kin hold up
his right foot"
"Tige" raised his moccasin- covered
foot, while guard held him in posi-
ton.
g Now, then, / amt fly on them ar
lawyers affvdavys, but I'll mako 'er
stout enough to hold Mexican mule.
Tiger Jim, do you swar by the holy
Moses. accordin' to the laws of Wyom-
ing Territory, that every time ye chip
into my racket yell give us the square
truth. An ef you don't, do you hope
thet you may get chawed up by griz.
zley, chopped to pieces by Sioux, strung
up to pine with rope round yer
dam theiven neck, an fail to connect
on heaven when yer life goes out, to
the best of yer understandin' as pro.
vided by law. s'help yer God. eh9"
"Thet's just what does pardy."
"Now Tige, yer under oath, an
every time yer speak yer want to hit the
bulls eye. Did you nip that yer horse ?''
Wall, Uncle Job, there's no use o.
lynn about it, an I'll tell yer just how
it war, Las night you know thar war
iamboree over to AL. Wilkins rancho
in Miller's gulch. Iwar thar. AL. had
been into Laramie City an got keg
O good old bulge, an we all got purity
full. Arter the dancing war over I
pulled out for Bowsley's rancho, whar
I'm hanging out, an as I was staggerin'
down round Mountain Cat Hill, runs
right onto the bronco that was picketed
out onto the grass an I was jist drunk
enough to mount him and lite out.
know I'm goin' to swing fur it, an I'll
die game, too. / amt wurth cuss,
anyway, an ef it warn't for my good
old mother back in the States, here the
tears began to roll down his bronzed
cheek, who never closes her eyes 'thout
praying to God to send me back to her,
I'd laf at death, en- help yer to fix the
rope, but when think o. that darling
old soul get weakern, wounded an.
telope. I tell yer fellers, I've been a
tough cuss ever since struck out ful
I