The Iola register. [volume] (Iola, Allen County, Kansas) 1875-1902, 1881-04-08
A BAR SINISTER.
CHAPTER I.

a Dan Edo
CHAPTER L.
Eureka Valley, lin 1876, contained half doz-
en- substantial log houses, and during the
Beverest portion Of the winter was the ref
uge OF hunters, trappers, cattle herders, and
That singular class OF men who dwell among
the awful sublimities Of nature, because they
have learned to love her in this fOrm-men
who seldom fOrsake the mountains, mead
ows ana lakes, and who would pine and die
II compelled to live in the crowded haunts
OF gregarious man. For weeks terrific
storms had ragged over the valley. The cab
tns had long since disappeared beneath the
drifting snow, and still the flakes fell. Some
men huddled together before a blazing fire
on the ample hearth OF the largest cabin in
the Valley, discussing prOblem-a question
Of life and death. Ben Smith, an expert
enced mountaineer, and one whose words
was just finishing long speech explanatory
Of the terrible situation.
''We're i'm fur it. boys,' he said, ''unless
somethin' turns up mighty soon. We can't
live through another week eff the storm don't
let up, or somebody comes to lift us out.
Now, it's my opinion tibet the storm won't
let up, an faint likely nobody's comiR' to
fetch us out, or set up a fust-rate hotel in
Eureka to keep us from starvin'."
But somethin's got to be done," re-
marked Joe Skinner.
"Pd like to know w'at?" responded Ben.
"PervisiOns all gone, six of us raslin' 18th
the scurvy, cabins turned into wood piles
and burnin' to ashes eZ fast eZ we ken
pile on the logs, an the deuce's own storm
a-hOwlin down through the gulches and can
ons. Sometimes got to be done, sure
enough, but wat? I don't see but one
thing to be dOne.'
"What's that?' muttered one of the men.
v,nfr h,,fr Il
one haggard, weather-beate face to another.
The men seemed to understand ipstinctively
what that strange look foreboded, and a
shudder quivered through the frames of two
or three or the younger men. No one spoke
for moment. Finally:
"Only weeks prOvisiOnsv The words
came huskily from the throat of Sam Bill
ljngs.
ga week-scant 'lowance, answered Ben.
$50 ne of it's putrid, but 1 don't suppose
yer p ertickIer bout a little. thing like tibet,
air ye? There was another short pause in
the consultation, broken by the youngest of
the party, boy named Jerry Homer.
'sHOw long can man live OH nothing but
water and toothpicks!' he answered. his
pleasantly contrasting horribly with the grim
possibilities conjured up by his words.
'''Bout nine days, I've heerd, eff he don 4
die a vi'lent death afore tibet time," an
swered Ben, and then even the most Obtuse
understood the hidden meaning of the old
mountaineer's remarks, and the proposition
toward which he was reluctantly drifting.
''My God! Ben, you don't mean it?'' ex-
claimed the boy, his face blanching as he re-
allied that there was but one resource left.
'.Oh, yer beginning to understand, irye?''
tinued, "an' to be palmer 18th We, afore this
weeks out ther'll be a dinner in this yer
camp that wolves might smack their lips
over, but"
"Which we're not going to partake of ~
The speaker was tall, gaunt, and cadaver.
of gray hair fell around his furrowed
temples. Every eye was turned toward him
inquiringly, his hoarse voice was so positive
in its tone. He stepped forward and stood
in the full glare of the blazing fire, like a
specter from the other world.
"W'at do you know bout it, Tom?'' in
quired Ben Smith, half smile playing
across his hard-lined features.
"Pve been listening for the last hour,
Ben" replied Tom, ''to q lot Of talk about
starvation, and now 1 hear hints that lead
me to suppose that a cannibal feast is on the
it isn't in my line-but I'll eat my own hand
before I'll dine off any human being. l
prefer turkey in mine for dinner, and the
next square meal we eat together shall have
turkey on the bill Of fare. Why don't you
talk sense" said Tom. 'Why don't You
talk about making fight for your lives:
Come, boys, liven up-be men: Don't sit
moping there like lot of frightened chill
dren. Let us take what we can on our
backs; let us get out of this"
How long dye s'pose We'll be on the
road, Tom?" asked Ben. with sarcastic com.
miseratiOn.
"a day and night; perhaps two days.
"Easy trav'lin', 1 s'pose?'
"SOme of us may die on the road.'
"No danger of all of us dyin', Is'pose?''
"MOre chances of our gettin' through
snowdrifts forty or hundred feet deep, in
. storm that shakes the mount'ins, N Their is
etayin' here till she lets up, Ell? Hevyeno
ticed, Tom, tibet the trails out o. the valley
are smOother'n macadam, an plainer'n the
nose on yer face? Hev We noticed that we're
all hale'n hearty, an able to travel?"
"I understand all the difficulties and dan.
gers, Ben, and for one am willing to brave
them. Who goes with meE" and Tom tight
ened his belt as if prepared for a Journey.
"Who'll take the chances with me in the
Storm" No one replied. "All right, here
goes for liberty or death! hand me the dope,
Sam" And amid profound silence Tom
strobe to the cabin wall and took down a
pair Of snow-shOes. He examined the strap,
the bottoms. and placed them once more
against the wall. Approaching the silently
watching group in front Of the fire, he waved
his hand around the room, as he said, in a
quiet tone
"There's shoes enough for us all. Who'll
follow old Tom Stoddart to liberty, life, or
the other world:" No one replied. The men
seemed to be turned to statues. Some o.
them regarded the fire with stony stare !:
others bowed their heads in their hands !:
while small minority, among whom was
Ben Smith, looked upon Stoddart with the
singular expression which sometimes over
apreads the faces of brave men rendered reck-
less by despair.
"Nobody wants to go, }" said Tom. at last
swell, boys. 1 understand how it is. You
think you see certain death on the noun
tain: you think you see chance Of prolong
ing life by staying here-proIonging YOUR
life at a horrible expense. 1 can't see it, As
you do, boys. When die 1 want to die
irving. 1 want to die lighting; I don't want
70 starve to death. But I'll tell you, boys.
what intend to do. 1 want you to under
stand that Pm not actuated by selfish mo-
tives; I want you to understand that Pm not
leaving you in the lurch. / will risk my, life
on the mountain to bring You relief. T'il be