Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1878-02-20

kid, an hev sent her every ounce O
dust tibet could spare, an it's all she'd
he'd to live on. She's bin good 'un to
me, God bless her. an Pm sorry /
hewitt lived SOS [ can camp with her
up thar, (raising his fearful eyes toward
Heavenly and, boys, won't some O We
write to her? Tom Kirk, thar, knows
whar she lives-an' tell her 1 got let
out by an Injun, or pegged naturally
For Gods sake, don't let her know !
war strangled. The news 'ud kill her
But, then, I'll cheese this CAB, Or yell
think Pm weakenin', an the man don't
live as can skeer Tiger Jim. Elevate
me, boys, jist as quick as We please
I'm ready, when you are" Not a word
was spoken for few seconds.
During this recital, Jim's eyes were
filled with tears, and a close observer
would have detected silent weeping up
on all sides. That magic word mother
had awakened tender recollections in
the breasts of every one of those hardy
mountaineers. Men who could face
death in any shape without q particle
of feeling, did not try to hide their tears
at the mention of that sacred NAME
mother How sweet itsounded in their
ears. 1t carried them back to the hap
py days in the past, when they were
blessed with the love of parents, before
the Unsuitable thirst for gold had led
them into these mountain wilds. Not
word was spoken for few seconds,
and then old Job drew his horny hand
across his watery eyes, and said in a
husky voice:
"Tige, We w'udn't break IN oath, w'ud
YEP"
"No, JOB Dawson, not for friend or
foe. Thar aint a boy in the hills as can
say that Jim ever went back on even
his given word Pm a rough 'un, an
do some mighty wicked things, but
when | say thing, we can gamble
every dollar you've got on its bein'
straight"
"Wal, Tige, we had intended to swing
We, an We deserve swingin', but l can't
get rid O that mother chinnin' We give
US. 'spect the old lady's set her heart
on SEEM We agin', an is wearin' her old
eyes out a lookin' for We, I've got an
old mother myself, an tho | hevn't sot
eyes on her since 40, her picters right
hyar in my heart, an it's pleadin' fur
your old 'ooman, Tige. It's ruff, Tige ruff
an'-lemme see-yes, darned eff don't
do it. Jack, cut them ar strings, SOS he
can git his hams loose. Thar, thet's it.
Now, Tige, hold up yer right hand, and
eff ever We swore strong, do it now. Do
you swar by the great God, an yer bless
ed old mother, that if this court dis
charges We, yell lite right out for the
states, an 60 hum to the old lady, an
love her an comfort her as long as she
stays out O. heaven? Do We swar to this,
Tige, before Almighty God an this
cOurt?"
q do, Job, and thar's my fist on it.
Put 'er thar. | swar it, anil pull stakes
rite off,"
Then ye're released on them terms,
an the boy'll help We sit yer traps down
to the station; but mind, tell We, Nge,
eff yer ever caught in the hills agin, yell
go up tree. Fellers, the courts over,
an the prisoner discharged"
And big Comanche Bill, who stood
back in the crowd, drew his pistol, and
sa i'd:
"Amen! and any snoozer that says
Jobs law amt level, has got to fight me
right hyar.
When the Union Pacific train was
about to leave Laramie, the following
day, a number of mountaineers might
have been seen shaking hands and bid
ding farewell to q buckskin-clad com
panion, who stood upon the rear plat
form of the train. The citizens of the
place paid no attention to their move
ments, as it is an every day occurrence
for some Miner who has either struck
it rich and made his pile, or has had
bad luck and become disconnected to
embark for the states. The travele,
was Tiger Jim; and as the train flew
past Fort Saunders, and began the as
cent of the Black Hills range, he gazed
upon the distant peaks, clad in their
garments of eternal snow, and his
breath came hard as he muttered
It's hard to leave We, old hills, but
it's either the states Or a neck-tie festi-
val for me; an then I'll stick to that
cast-iron oath O. Jobs eff it takes the
ha'r off"