The Portland daily press., 1878-03-23
Old German Love Song.
New YORK SUM-.
A Ghost Of the Sierras.
BY BRET HARTE.

through hundred feet of clear, unbroken
interval to the first lateral branches that
formed the fat canopy above us. Here and
there the fierce sun, from whose active perse-
cution we had just escaped, searched for us
us through the woods but It's keen blade was
dulled and turned aside by intercostal bougbs
and its brightness dissipated in nebulous
mists throughout the rooffiug of the dim
brown aisles around us. We were in an
other atmosphere, under another sky, indeed
in another world than the dazzling one we
had just quilted. The grave silence seemed
we hesitated to speak, and for some moments
lay quietly outstretched on the pine tassels
where we had first thrown ourselves. FL
nally, voice broke the silence.
ASK the old Major; he knows all abo ut
itP' The person here alluded to, under that
military title. was myself l hardly need ex-
plain to any Californian that it by no means
followed that was "Major," or that was
s'old," or that knew anything about ,sit,"
or lsdeed. what ''it' referred to. The whole
remark was merely one OF the usual conven-
tional feelers to conversation kind of social
preamble, quite common to our slangy camp
intercourse. Nevertheless, as I was always
known as the major, perhaps for no better
reason than that the speaker, an old journal
list, was always called doctor, recognized
the fact so far as to kick aside an intervening
saddle so that could see the speakers face
on a level with my own, and said nothing.
"About ghosts" said the doctor, after a
pause which nobody broke or was expected
to break. "Ghosts! sir. That's what we
want to know. What are We doing here in
this blank old mausoleum of Calaveras coun-
ty-ifit isn't to find out something about
'em, eh ?''
Nobody replied.
'That's that haunted house at Cave City.
Can't be more than a mile or two away, any
how. Used to be just off the trail"
A dead silence.
The doctor addressing space generally:
"Yes, sir; 1t was mighty queer story"
Still the same reposeful indifference. We
all knew the doctors skill as raconteur;
we all knew that story was coming; and
we all knew that any interruption would be
fatal. Time and time again, in our prospect
ing experience, had word of polite encour-
agement, a rash expression of interest, even
too eager attitude OF silent expectancy,
brought the doctor to a sudden change Of
subject; time and time again had we seen
the unwary stranger stand amazed and be-
wildered between our own indifference and
the sudden termination of a promising anec-
dote, through his own unlucky interference.
So we said nothing "The iudge''-another
instance of arbitrary nomenclature-pre-
tended to sleep. Jack began to twist cigar
ritto. Thornton bit off the ends of pine
needles refectively.
"Yes, SIR" continued the doctor, cooly,
resting the back of his head on the palms
of his hands, sit acGs rather curious. All ex-
cept the murder. That's what gets me, for
the murder had no new points, no fancy
touches, no sentiment, no mystery. Was
just one of the old-style, 'sub-head' para
graphs. Old-fashioned miner scrubs along
on hard tack and beans, and saves up little
money to go home and see relations Old
fashioned assassin sharpens up knife, old style,
loads old fint.lock, brass-mounted pistol;
walks out en- old fashioned miner one dark
night, sencs him home to his relations away
back to several generations, and walks of
with the swag. No mystery there; nothing
to clear up; subsequent revelations only i'm
pertinence. Nothing for any ghost to do
who meant business. More than that, over
forty nnrders-same kind, committed every
year in Calaveras, and no spiritual post obits
coming due every anniversary; 10 assess
ments made on the peace and quiet of the sur
viving community. 1 tell you what, boys, I've
always been inclined to throw off ON the
Cave City ghost for that alone. It's bad
precedent, sir. If that kind o. thing is going
to obtain in the Foot Hill, we'll have the
trails full of chaps formerly knocked over by
Mexicans and road agents; every little camp
and grocery will have stock enough on hand
ogo into business, and where's there any
security for surviving life and property, eh
What's your opinion, judge, as fair-minded
legislators" Il 81
ni-nAusss- there was no response. Yet 1t
was part of the doctors system of aggrava-
tion to become discursive at these moments,
in the hope of Interruption, and he continued
for some moments to dwell on the terrible
possibility of state of affairs in which
gentleman could no longer settle dispute
with an enemy without being subjected to
succeeding spiritual embarrassment. But all
this DEPRESSION fell upon apparently inatten-
tive ears. -4
swell, sir, after the murder, the cabin
stood for long time deserted and tenantless.
Popular opinion was against it. One day a
ragged prospector, savage with hard labor and
harder luck, came to the camp, looking for
place to live and a chance to prospect, After
the boys bad taken bis measure, they con-
cuded that he'd already tackled so much in
the way of difficulties that ghost more or
less wouldn't be of much account. So they
sent him to the haunted cabin. He had q
big yellow dog with him, about as ugly and as
savage as he himself, and the boys sort O. con-
graduated themselves from practical view
point that while they were giving the old
rufian shelter, they were helping in the
cause OF Christianity against ghosts and COB
Inns. They had little faith in the old man,
but went tneir whole pile on the dog. That's
where they were mistaken.
"The house stood almost three hundred
feet from the nearest cave, and on dark nights,
being in hollow, was as lonely as if il bad
been on the top OF Shaste. II you ever saw
the spot when there was just moon enough to
bring out the little surrounding clumps of
chapparal until they looked like connecting
figures, and make the bits of broken quartz
gsten like skulls, you'd begin to understand
how big contract that man and that yellow
dog undertook.
spto 1,
and old Hard Times set out to cook his sup
per. When it was over he sat down by the
embers and lit bis pipe, the yellow dog lying
at his feet. Suddenly Rap! rapv comes
from the door. Come in says the man,
gruffly. Rap! again. Come in and be id
to you,' says the man, who has no idea of
getting up to open the door. But no one re-
sponded, and the next moment smash goes
the only sound pane in the only window.
Seeing this, old Hard Times gets up, with
the devil in his eye and revolver in his hand,
followed by the yellow dog with every tooth
showing, and swings open the door. No one
therel But as the man opened the door, the
yellow dog, that had been so chipper before,
suddenly begins to crouch and step backward,
step by step, trembling and shivering, and at
last crouches down in the chimney, without
even so much as looking at his master. The
man slams the door shut again, but there
comes another smash. This time it seems to
come from Inside the cabin, and it isn't until
the man looks around and sees everything
quiet that he gets up, without speaking, and
makes dash for the door, and tears around
outside the cabin like mad, but finds nothing
but silence and darkness. Then he comes
back swearing and calls the dog. But that
great, yellow dog that the boys would have
staked all their money on, is crouching under
the bunk, and has to be dragged out like
coon from hollow tree, and lies there, his
eyes starting from their sockets; every limb
aud muscle quivering with fear, and his very
hair drawn up in bristling ridges. The man
calls him to the door. He drags himself
few steps, stops, shifts, and refuses to 20 fur |
ther. The man calls him again with an oath
and threat Then, what does that yellow
dog do? He crawls edgewise toward the door.
crouching himself against the bunk tin he's
fiatter than knife blade; then, half way. he
stops. Then that id yellow dog begins to
walk gingerly-lifting each foot up in the air.
one after the other, still trembling in every
limb. Then he stops again. Then he |
crouches. Then he gives one little shudder- |
H.. l. Il