Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1878-04-11
A Mountain Court Scene.

ku0 ONO OdHcOu 0dO OSSA Quiy clCCb-
ed to fill the responsible position Sof q
Justice of the Peace, and this was the
first case which had demanded his at
tention. Job was an AAold veteran
mountsineer, 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 region an accusa-
ti0n ofa great crime against any one
is but a forerunner of hanging Zee, ;
and q trial even is seldom thought of.
But in the present instance, avid
'cuss' who bad been frequenting the
settlements, had appropriatea 'brOn-
cho'i Indian pony belonging to a
neiShboring ranchman, and had been
pursued, captured and brought back.
Old Job was summoned to try the cul-
prit, and spot in q rocky gnlch near
the 'Squire's cabin was selected. as the
site for the investigation. A motley
crowd of hunters, trappers, miners, and
rancheros had assembled. Some were
lying upon the ground, and others sit
ting upon the rocks, all anXiously
awaiting the ,Squire's coming. Job
soon came from toward his cabin, and
with slsediguified air seated himself
upon boulder, took off his bear SIX in
cap, and said: H. ,s.s. i,.s s-1lao "a
sFellers, the court ar ready to git
down TO biz, and / want ye all to
cheese yer racket, an let up on that
chin music, according to law. Throw
your bar 10 sight, and pay 'tention TO
the court ~ g. @ r' .7i-
Every hat came offat his command,
and his Honor glancing round the
circle, said:
Z 'Whar is the cuss?' .4i9 s..i 500 --vl5.
Three mountaineers, armed with
Henry rifles and six. shooters, stepped
forward withthe thief az young man,
wearing bold devil may care express
ZION. His hands were securely fasteh-
thongs. Clad in buckskin from head
TO foot, he presented picturesque ap-
pearance, as he faced the Squire. .i.e
q What do they call you when you
are at home? asked the court. ..4
'Ain'tgot any home-leastwise in
these parts, 'sullenly replied the prison.
oner.l lfsE zFEEBE
'Ain't, hey? Well, watts the name
you tuck when you left ihe States,
then?' - 81
The boys here on the hills call me
Tiger Jim.' faea-..a..''a i. = ,lo
wall, Tige, yer spotted as boss
thief, am reckon there's sumthing in
it, or the boys wudn't a brought you
in. You cant expect tony trial, like
you'd get down to Laramie, or in emmy
of them towns along the road. We
hevn't emmy paper, pensAor ink, ur any
O. that sort o. foolishness up hyar in
the hills, yaH' there sintS oRe-OF as as
could engineer 'en efJwe had. pc we'll
jist grind her through, an do the best
we kin for you.2 In the naHsea of the
1aw,I now Ak you, did you collar tibet
hos? But stop 'er right thar; doggone
Ii, forgot to swar you. Cum mitey
near forgittin' it. Hold up yer right
.hanr, s1--+.-...-f ~.
Held up nuthin'. How kin l when
they're tied titer'n blaZes?'
sThet's SO. Yer k'Ieci, Tiger, but /
guess emmy member o. The body'll be
'corjing to law, in extreme cases.
Stedy him little, tellers, SOS he kin
hold up his right foot.'-2 5.sf 81.
Tige raised his moccasin covered
foot, while a guard on each side held
him in position.
Now, then, amt fly on them 'ar
lawyers sffydavys, hut I'll make her
stout enuff to hold Mexican mule.
Tiger Jim, do you swar by the holy
Muses., 'cOrdin' to the laws of WyO-
ming Territory, that every time you
chip into my racket, yell give Us the
-equar truth? An et you don't do you
hope thet you may git chawed up by q
grizzly, chopped to pieces by Sioux,
strung, up to pine witha. rope round
y0ur dam thievin' neck, am fail to
cOanect on heaven WIN yer life goe:
out, to the best o. yer understanding. as
pervided by law. s'help yer God, eh?'
THAT'S jist what l does pardy.'
Now, Tige, yer under oath, and ev'
~ time yer speak yer want ter hit the
bulls eye. Did you nip that hoss?'
Wall. Uncle Job, there's no use o
lyin' about it, an III tell you jist how
it war. Last night, you KNOW thai
war a jsmboree over to Al. wilkins,
ranch, in Miller's gulch, and i wal
thar. AL, had been to Laramie city
and got q keg " good old bulge, an
we all got purity full. Arter the dancin'
was over, l. pulled out for Bowles's
rancho, whar I'm -hangin' out, an as
was staggerin' down round, Mountain
Cat Hill; l runs right onto the broncho
that war picketed out in the grass, and
war list drunk enuff to mount him and
lite out. know I'm going to swint
for IL, and I'll die game, too i aini
wuth c1ls, anyway, an IL 1t warns
for my good old mothsr, back in the