The Bolivar bulletin. [volume] (Bolivar, Hardeman County, Tenn.) 1865-1888, 1878-03-28
4 GHOST OF THE SIERRAS.
BY BRET HARTE.


with balsamic breath, and mufied with
the dry dust of dead bark and matted
messes. Lying on our backs, We looked
upward through a hundred feet of clear,
unbroken interval to the first lateral
branches that formed the fat canopy
| above us. Here and there the fierce sur,
| from whose active persecution we had
] Just escaped, searched for us through the
| woods, but its keen blade WAS dulled and
turned aside by intercOstai boughs, and
its brightness dissipated in nebuloHs
mists throughout the roofing of the dim
brown aisles around us. We were in
| another atmosphere, under another sky,
| indeed in another world than the daZ-
cling one we had just quilted. The grave
silence seemed so much a part of the
grateful coolness that we hesitated to
| speak, and for some moments lay quietly
outstretched on the pine tassels where
we had first thrown ourselves. Finally,
a voice broke the silence.
ASK the old major; he knows all
about itp
The person here alluded to, under that
military title, was myself. / hardly
need explain to any Californian that it
by no means followed that I was s.
| Major" or that was " old" }" or that ]
knew any thing about cit" or indeed
what I" it" referred to. The whole re-
mark was merely one of the usual cons
| ventional feelers to conversational kind
of social preamble, quite common to our
! slangy camp intercourse. Nevertheless,
| as l was always known as the major,
perhaps for no better reason than that
the speaker, an old journalist, was
always called doctor, I recognized the
fact so far as to kick aside an intervening
saddle so that 1 could see the speakers
face on a level with my own, and said
nothing.
1" About Ghosts" said the doctor, after
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 county, if it isn't to find out
something about 'em, eh %
Nobody replied.
"Thar;s that haunted house at Cave
| City, Can't be moIe than a mile or two
away, anyhow. Used to be just of the
trail"
A dead silence.
The doctor addressing space gener-
ally): " Yes, sir; it was mighty queer
story"
Sill the same reposeful indifference.
We all knew the doctors skill as rGcO71-
fe1tr; we all knew that story was COM
ing; and we al! knew that any Interrupt
tiOu would fatal. Time and time again,
in our prospecting experience, had a
word OF polite encouragement, rash ex-
preston of interest, even a too eager
attitude of silent expectancy, brought
the doctor 20 a sudden change OF subject ;
time and time again had we seen the
unwary stranger stand amazed and be-
| ] -, ,ng
and the sudden termination of promis-
ing anecdote, through his own unlucky
, interference So we said nothing. The
: Judge "--another instance of arbitrary
{ nomenclature pretended to sleep. Jack
} began to twist cigGTrttO. Thornton bil
! off the ends of pine needles rehectively
20 Yes, sir" said the doctor, coolly
resting the back of HIS head on the
! palms Of his hands, it was rather curl
l Gus. All except the murder. That
y what gets me, for the murder had nC
new points, no fancy touches, DO senti
ment, no mystery. Was just one OF th'
old style, 'sub-head' paragraphs. OLE
: fashioned miner scrubs along on hare
tack and beans, and saves up q Httl
; money to go home and see relations
= Old fashioned assassin sharpens u p knife
. old style. loads old hintlOck, brass
i mounted pistol; walks in old fashiOnet
: miner one dark night, sends him home t
J. his relations away back to several gene
0 rations, and walks off with the swag. N
8 mystery there; nothing to clear up
q | subsequent revelations only imperLi
!. nence. Nothing for any ghost to do
e who meant business. More than that
n over forty murders, same old kind
z committed every year in CalveTas
| ,frif n
n due every anniversary; no asses:
:. ments made on the peace and quiet c
u the surviving community. | tell yo'
o what, boys, I've always been incline
n to throw off on the Cave City ghost 70
e that alone. It's a bad precedent, sir
= II that kind o. thing is going to Obtai
Is in the Foot Hills, we'll have the ira
full of chaps formerly knocked over b
e Mexicans and road agents; every littl
d camp and grocery will nave stock enOug
r on hand to go into business, and where
IL shere any security for surviving life an
a property, eh7 What's your opinion
Judge, as fair minded legislator p
le OF course there was no response. Ye
ct It was a part OF the doctors system {
rs aggravation to become discursive at the'
~ ~ moments, in the hope of interruption
and he continued for some moments
dwell on the terrible possibility of a stat
N OF affairs in which a gentleman could L
IN longer settle dispute with an enem
IN without being subjected to succeediT
to spiritual embarrassment. But all th
e DEPRESSION fell upon apparently ina
nd tentive ears.
''Well, sir, after the murder, the cab
1n stood for a long time deserted al
1g tenantless. Popular opinion wss again
IN IN it. One day ragged prospector, savsi
o' with hard labor and harder luck, can
Is, to the camp, looking for a place to Ii
c., and a chance to prospect. After Il
20 bows had taken his measure, they co
ID, cluded that he'd already tackled so mut
81 in the way of difficulties that gho
ne more or less wouldn't be of much s
count. So they sent him to the haunt
= cabin. He had big yellow dog wi
/, him, about as ugly and assavage as hiI
m. self, and the boys sort of congratulate
ng themselves, from practical view pOiI
IN that while they were giving the 0
he ruffian a shelter, they were helping
ne the cause of christianity against ghoi
III and goblins. They had little faith in {
~ old man, but went their whole pile
ri that dog. That's where they were m
ds, taken.
in "The house stood almost thee hund;
ne feet nom the nearest cave, and on ds
me nights, being in hollow, was as lonely
le .au if it had-been on the top of Shasta.
On. YOU ever saw the spot when there was j
moon enough to bring out the little 8