Essex County herald. [volume] (Guildhall, Vt.) 1873-1964, 1877-09-22
4" Who Was My Quiet Friend 2"
6 Stranger |"

"uu "oo wy VutVt tOitu
"Stranger !"
The voice was not loud, but clear and
penetrating. 1 looked vainly up and
down the narrow darkening trail. No
one in the fringe of alder ahead no one
on the quilted slope behind.
" Oh stranger p
This time little impatiently. The
Californian vocative, "Oh," always
meant business.
l looked up, and perceived for the first
time, on the ledge, thirty feet above me,
another trail parallel with my own, and
looking down upon me through the
buckeye bushes small man on a black
horse.
Five things to be here noted by the
circumspect mouutaineer. First, the
locality - lonely and inaccessible and
away from the regular faring of teamsters
and miners. Secondly, tho strangers
superior knowledge of the road from the
fact that the other trail was unknown to
the ordinary traveller. Thirdly, that he
was well armed and equipped. Fourthly,
that he was better mounted. Filthy.
that any distrust or timidity arising from
the contemplation of these facts had
better be kept to oneself.
All this passed rapidly through my
mind as l returned his salutation.
"Got any tobacco?" he asked.
had and signifed the fact, holding
up the pouch inquiringly.
"All right, I'll come down. Ride on,
and I'll jiDe ye on the slide"
"The slide?" Here was q new geo.
graphical discovery as odd as the second
trail. l had ridden over the trail a
dozen times, and seen no communication
between the ledge and trail. Neverthe-
less [ went on hundred yards or so,
when there was a sharp cracking in the
uuderbrush, shower of stones on the
trail, and my friend plunged through
the bushes to my side down grade that
l should scarcely have dared to lead my
horse. There was no doubt he was an
accomplished rider-another fact to be
noted.
AS he ranged beside me I found I was
not mistaken as to his size; he was quite
under the medium height, and but, for
pair of cold gray eyes, was rather COM
monplace in feature.
=" You've got good horse there" I
suggested.
He was filling his pipe from my pouch,
but looked up little surprised, and
said: "Of course" He then puffed
away with the nervous eagerness of a
man long deprived of that sedative.
Finally, between the puffs, he asked me
whence came.
Ireplied from Lagrange.
He looked at me few moments curl
ously, but on my adding that l had only
halted there for few hours, he said "I
thought knew every man between La
grange and Indian Spring, but somehow
| sorter disremember your face and your
name"
Not particularly caring that he should
remember either, replied, half laugh
ingly, that as lived the other side of
Indian Spring, it was quite natural. He
took the rebuff such it was-so quiet
ly, that as an act of mere perfunctory
politeness, I asked him where he came
from.
Lagrange"
"And you are going to-
'Well that depends pretty much on
how things pan out, and whether 1 can
make the rifle" He let his hand rest
quite unconsciously on the leathern
holster of his dragoon revolver, yet with
strong suggestion to me of his ability
+" to make the rifle if he wanted to,
and added: "But just now [ was reck-
min on taking little posedr with you. u
There was nothing offensive in his
speech, Its familiarity and the refec.
tion, perhaps, that whether I objected
or not, he was quite able to do as he
said. / only replied that if our pascal
was prolonged beyond Heavytree Hill,
should have to borrow his beast. II
my surprise, he replied quietly: "That'l
SO, adding that the horse was at my dis
posal when he wasn't using it, and hal
of it when he was. "Dick has carried
double many time before this" h,
continued: and kin do it again; whel
your mustang gives out, I'll give you
lift, and room to spare.
could not help smiling at the ide
of appearing before the boys at Ret
Gulch en- croupe with the stranger; bu
neither could help being oddly affecte,
by the suggestion that his horse ha,
done double duty before. son wha
occasion, and why? was a question
kept to myself. We were ascending tn
long rocky flank of the Divide; the nar
rowness of the trail obliged us to pro
ceed slowly and in file, so that ther
was little chance for conversation, ha
he been disposed to satisfy my curiosity
We toiled on in silence, the buckley
giving way to chimisal, the WESTERN
sun, reflected again from the blank wall
beside us, binding our eyes with il
glare. The pines in the canyon belo'
were olive CULTS of heat, over which
hawk here and there drifted lazily, G
rising to our level, cast weird an
gigantic shadow of slowly moving wing
on the mountain side. The superiorit
of the strangers horse led him often ff
in advance, and made me hope that h
might forget me entirely, or push OF
grown weary of waiting. But REGULAR
he would halt by boulder, or reappei
from some chtnaisal, where he ha