The Vancouver independent. (Vancouver, W.T. [Wash.]) 1875-1910, 1879-09-18
Ny Midnight Peril.

The night of the 18th of October
shall l 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 l 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. My blood ran cold as I thought
what might be the possible conse-
quences of misstep or move III the
wrong direction. Why had 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 q 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 i1nus fatuuS to lure
me on to destruction and death.
"Halloo-o o."
Nv voice rang through the woods
like clarion. plunged on through
tangled vines, dense briers and rocky
banks, until, gradually nearing, could
perceive figure wrapped in an oil
cloth cape, or cloak, carvings lantern
As the dim light fell upon his face, l
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.
What's wanting" he snarled, with
peculiar motion of the lips that seem
ed to leave his yellow teeth all bare.
81 am lost in the woods; can you di-
rect me to R. Station y
Yes. R. Station is II miles from
here
Twelve miles,
stood aghast.
"Yes."
"Can you tell me of any shelter
could obtain for the night?"
"No."
"Where are you going?"
ITO Drew's, down 10y the maple
swamp
as it a tavern Z"
"Nor"
"Would they take me for the night =?
could pay them we'll
His eyes CLEANED; the yellow stumps
stood revealed once more.
Il guess SO; folks do stop there"
at is not far from here q
mot very. about half mile
Then let us make haste and reach
it. | am drenched to the skin
We plodded on, my companion more
than keeping pace with me. Presently
We left the edge of the ravine. entering
what seemed like trackless woods, and
keeping straight on until the lights
CLEANED titfully through the wed fol-
isge.
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 fellowtrav-
eler's knock. My companion whispered
word or two to her, and she turned to
me with smooth, valuable words of
welcome.
She regretted the poverty of their
accommodations; but was welcome to
them, such as they were.
where is Isaac?" demanded my
guide.
"He has not come in yet"
/ sat down on a wooden bench beside
the fire, and ate few mouthfuls of
bread.
Il should like to retire as soon as
possible for my WEAKNESS was ex-
cessive.
Certainly" The woman started up
with alacrity.
Where are you going to pm. him q
asked my guide.
up chamber
Put him in Isaac's room"
"No."
ats the moot comfortable"
81 tell YOU nor
But here l interrupted the whispered
colloquy.
81 am not PARTICULAR don't care
where Won lodge me, only make haste. "
So | was conducted up q steep ladder
that stood 10 a corner of the room. into
an apartment ceiled with sloping beams
and ventilated by one small window.
where a. cot bedstead, crowded close
against a board partition, and pine
table, with two or three chairs, formed
the sole attempts at furniture.
The woman set the light-an old oil
lamp-on the table.
Anything more can get you, sir ?"
"Nothing, thank you"
II hope you'll sleep we'll, sir. When
shall | call you?"