The Colfax chronicle. [volume] (Colfax, Grant Parish, La.) 1877-1981, 1881-07-16

of the Sacramento?' said Ruth.
1.-The very same. My objective point
was place now famous in the annals
of that period, called Bidwelrs Bar
on account of rich bar in the Feather
River, full of golden sand, which was
discovered by General Bidwell. The
place was many miles from me; the
country was thinly settled; l did not
know a soul (for even tramps were
scarce in those early days., and so my
courage and my legs gave out together.
Pulling off my boots about five o'clock
one sultry day, barred my feet to the
cool evening breeze, and, creeping into
clump of young manzanitas, fell asleep,
hoping that would never awake again
this side of the stars. l did, however,
conscious tn at my toes were being licked
in a gentle fashion, and discovered that
it was being done by a brown setter
dog, about as hungry looking and gen.
orally dilapidated as l was myself.
"Where he came from never knew,
but. looking into his half human eyes
we speedily entered into sort of dumb
compact to trudge ON together. l found
that the poor fellow q never could call
him brute) had a sore knee, inflamed
and bleeding. tore strip off my last
handkerchief to bind itup, and, in place
of the Good Samaritan's oil and wine
gave him my last scrap of cold bacon.
1t is strange, but. forlorn as it was in
those days, recall them with tender
pleasure almost -unaccountable. If
had been raised brahmin would have
believed that some. immortal spirit of
unfailing cheerfulness and unending re-
sources was imprisoned in that dogs
body. Did you ever read the fairy le-
gend of The Wild Cat who, after she
had persuaded the young Prince, her
lover, to cut off her head and tail and
throw them in the fire. suddenly stood
before him as woman, as fair as Aurora.
Fritz, for that was the name by which L
called the dog, looked at me with Jen-
MES brown eyes, half roguish, half
thoughtful, and together we resumed
our Journey. Nor would l have fol-
lowed in the wake of the young Prince.
even had 1 known the result would have
been similar, for Fritz, the dog, was
Invaluable Just as he was. All lone
someness was gone now that he rarely
left my side, and, although our shadows
had grown less by the time we reached
the bar our immaterial entities were
in prime order for everything in the
shape of adventure. Have never seen
any gold dug Then I'll not at this
late day spoil your tirstilnpressions of a
miners camp by describing mine as
approached Bidwelrs Bar. I may say,
though, that one might have supposed
an earthquake or tornado had been at
work there, tearing up the hundreds of
thousands of cubic feet that had been
moved and removed by mortal hands
in their frantic and persistent search for
gold.
1.-The bar was world in miniature.
Almost every nationality was there rep
resented, and almost every feature OF
human kind but humanity. Armed
with a pick, pan and shovel, l, like
hundreds of others, began to dig and
burrow and wash dirt. But my labor
and It's results would not balance, for
somehow my little leather bag of gold
dust got no heavier, toll as l would.
Wages being good, stopped digging
and hired myself as camp-scullion.
did every kind of jobbing within the
range of miners wants Washing
dirty flannel shirts and cotton overalls,
patching leather trousers and cooking
| flapiacks is not the most dignified and
flower strewn path to fortune, you must
know; and to a boy whose ideas Of
chivalry. independence and deeds Of
knightly valor were purely and intense.
ly Byronic, such a fate, you must &C
knowledge, was sort of poetic injus-
tice. My aim, though, was to earn
enough money with which to buy Ger.
tain claim of which knew, and that
had in advance labeled Bonanza
81 might have succeeded, but / was
FRUSTRATED by malarial fever, and for
days and weeks lay unconscious at the
mercy of few rough Welsh miners
with human hearts. My little hoard Of
money and my energy melted away to-
gether like spring snow. But for Fritz
I'd have died of disappointment alone,
He had adopted the Never say die
motto, and as l often read in his glori.
GUS eyes the sentence, You great old
coward! At him againr as tender and
appreciative sympathy which the gift o.
speech could not have made more as
surfing. My nurses had pitched me 8
tent on the south side of a low hill, anC
had left me to get well at my leisure
My bottom dollar had dwindled to the
value of dime, my legs to the thick
ness OF pair OF tongs (for all appetite
was gone), and one evening hope failet
me. Believing was going to die. l re
solved to do the fair thing by Jennie
apprise her of the event and advise he
to forget me. BY the pickering light o
bit of tallow candle l began the letter
the first had written for months.
thought aloud and wrote. Fritz lay be-
side me, his nose wedged between hi
paws. but knew by the twitch of hi!
ears that he understood every word tina
was writing.
II had reached the climax of renun
citation and wretchedness-or, rather
my expression of it-when he suddenly
rose and went out. / soon heard hin