The Vancouver independent. (Vancouver, W.T. [Wash.]) 1875-1910, 1879-11-06
Nv Midnight Peril.

shall ever forget its pitchy darkness,
the roar Of the autumnal wind through
the lonely forest, and the lncessant
down-pour of the rain?
This comes of short cuts" | NUT
tered petulently to myself as plodded
along, keeping close to the trunks OF
the trees to avoid the deep ravine,
through which l could hear the roar Of
the turbulent stream forty or fifty feet
below. Ny blood ran cold as l thought
what might be the possible conse-
ouences of n misstep or move in the
wrong direction. Why had l not been
content to keep in the right road?
Hold on; was that light, or are my
eyes playing me false?
I stopped, holding on to the low, res
inous boughs of hemlock that grew on
the edge of the bank, for it actually
seemed as if the wind would seize me
bodily and hurl me down the precipi-
tous descent. -.
1t was light-thank Providence-it
was light, and no ignas fafNts to lure
me on to destruction and death.
"Halloo-o Of"
Nv voice rang through the woods
like a clarion. 1 plunged on through
tangled vines, dense briers and rocky
banks. until, gradually nearing, 1 could
perceive a figure wrapped in an oil
cloth cape, or cloak, carIyinga lantern.
As the dim light fell upon his face,
almost recoiled. Would not solitude in
the woods be preferable to the compan.
ionship of this withered, wrinkled old
man? But it was too late to recede
now.
whats wanting?" he snarled, with
a peculiar motion Of the lips that seem
ed to leave his yellow teeth all bare.
81 am lost in the woods; can you dl'
rect me to R Station?'
Yes, R. Station is Il miles from
here
Twelve miles
/ stood aghast.
eyes"
"Can you tell me of any shelter
could obtain for the nigLt?"
"No."
"Where are you going?'
"To Drew's, down by the maple
swamp
SIS it tavern T.
"Nor'
Would they take me for the night
/ could pay them we'll"
His eyes CLEANED; the yellow stumps
stood revealed once more.
81 guess SO; folks do stop there"
ut is not far from here q
Not very. about half a mile"
Then let US make haste and reach
it. l am drenched to the skin.
No ,,1n1lal IN my o0r,1 naOI0O -nOrf
than keeping pace with Inc. Presently
We left the edge of the ravine, entering
what seemed like trackless woods. and
keeping straight on until the light,
cleaned ttfully through the wed fol
iAge.
1t was a ruinous old place, with the
windows all drawn to one side. as if the
foundation had settled, and the pillars
of rude porch nearly rotted away.
A woman answered my fellow-trav'
eler's knock. My companion whispered
word or two to her, and she turned &c
me with smooth, valuable words OF
welcome.
She regretted the poverty Of theil
accomm odations; but was welcome tc
them, such as they were.
"Where is Isaac?" demanded my
guide.
He has not come in yet"
/ sat down on a wooden bench besile
the fire, and ate few mouthfuls oil
bread.
Il should like to retire as soon a.
possible" for my WEAKNESS was ex
cessive.
Certainly" The woman started ur
with alacrity.
Where are you going to pu: him 2
asked my guide.
up chamber"
"Put him in Isaac's room
"No."
"It's the moot comfortable
81 tel. on nor
But here l interrupted the Whispered
eolloqly.
Il am not particular-I don't car,
where Won lodge me, only make haste.
So | was conducted up steep lad~fel
that stood in a corner of the rom, int
an apartment ceiled with sloping beam,
and ventilated by one small window
where a cot bedstead, crowded closs
against board partition. and pine
table, with two or three chairs, formed
the sole attempts at furniture.
The woman set the lisht-an old oil
lamp-on the table.
Anything more l can get you, sir 2
"Nothing, thank you"
II hope you'll sleep we'll. sir. When
.l.lI coll Won ."