The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1881-04-16
ABAR SINISTER.
CHAPTER I.

Eureka Valley, lin 1876, contained half doz-
en- substantial log houses, and during the
severest portion OF the winter was the ref
uge of hunters, trappers, cattle herders, and
that singular class OF men who dwell among
the awful sublmites of nature, because they
have learned to love her in this form-men
who seldom forsake the mountains, mead
ows and lakes, and who would pine and die
IL compelled to live in the crowded haunts
OF gregarious man. For weeks terrific
storms had ragged over the valley. The cab
ms had long since disappeared beneath the
drifting snow, and still the flakes fell. Some
men huddled together before blazing fire
on the ample hearth of the largest cabin in
the Valley, discussing aproblem-a question
of life and death. Ben Smith, an expert
enced mountaineer, and one whose words
were listened to with the closest attention,
was just finishing long speech explanatory
of the terrible situation.
''We're in 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 comia' to
fetch us out, or set up fust-rate hotel in
Eureka to keep US from staryin'."
But sometimes got to be DONE" re-
marked Joe Skinner.
"Pd like to know watt" 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? l don't see but one
thing to be done"
"What's that?" muttered one of the men.
Ben did not reply, bat glanced rapidly from
one haggard, weather. beaten face to another.
The men seemed to understand instinctively
what that strange look foreboded, and a
chI1 NJ 1uh I ba froY c,Nf
or three OF the younger men. No one spoke
for a moment. Finally:
"Only weeks provisionsw The words
came huskily from the throat of Sam Bill
lings.
"a week-scant 'lowance, "answered Ben.
$50 ne of it's putrid, but L don't suppose
yer p 4rtickler bout 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.
CHOW long can man live on nothing but
water and toothpicks?" he answered, his
pleasantly contrasting horribly with the grim
possibilities conjured up by his words.
Bout nine days, Pve heerd eff he don't
die vilent 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 tips ex-
claimed the boy, his face blanching as he re-
allZeu luab' JneTo WAS DuC one resource left,
''Oh, yer beginning to understand, air We ?''
replied Ben. eyes, l mean it," he con-
tinued, ''an' to be palmer 18th We, afore this
weeks out ther'll be 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-
GUS. He was old and thin; struggling locks
of gray hair fell around his furrowed
temples. Every eye was turned toward him
inquirngly, 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. VINO
swat do you know bout it, Tom?" in
quired Ben Smith, a half smile playing
across his hard-lined features.
'I've been listening for the last hour,
Ben," replied Tom, ''to lot of talk about
me to suppose that cannibal feast is on the
cards. Now l don't want to be facetious-
it isn't in my ine-but I'll eat nv own hand
before I'll dine off any human being.
prefer turkey in mine for dinner, and the
next square meal we eat together shall have
talk sense?" said Tom. "Why don't you
talk about making a fight for your lives.
Come, boys, liven up-be men. DON'T sit
mopng there like lot of frightened chill
dren. Let us take what we can on our
backs; let us get out Of this.' .r s.
lOW lOHS QJo 'pOSt we'll De on the
road, Tom~ asked Ben. with sarcastic com
miseration.
"a day and night; perhaps two days.
"Easy trav'lin', s'pose?'
"SOme of us may die on the road''
.No danger of all of us dyin', 1 s'pose?''
"More chances Of our gettin' through
snowdrifts forty or hundred feet deep, in
storm that shakes the mount'ins, IN Their, is
stayin' here till she lets up, Ell? Hev We no.
ticed, Tom, tibet the trails out o. the valley
are smoother'n macadam, an plainer'n the
nose on yer faceS Hev we noticed that we're
all hale hearty, an able to travel?
81 understand all the difficulties and dan
gers, Ben, and for one am willing to brave
them. Who goes with me?" and Tom tight
ened his belt as II prepared for journey.
"Who'll take the chances with me in the
storm" No one replied. Gall 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.
bent the light boards to test them, "doped'i
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 uuH .u4. lil1all ..f...
"There's shoes enough for us all. Who'll
follow old Tom Stoddart to liberty. life. OF
the other world" No one replied. The men
seemed to be turned to statues. Some O
them regarded the fire with a 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
spreads the faces OF brave men rendered reck-
less by despair. "'fI Hd II
"NObody wants to go, !" said Tom, at last
swell, boys, l understand how it is. You
think you see certain death on the noun.
tain you think you see achance of prolong.
ing life by staying here-prolonging your
life at horrible expense. can't see it, a.
you do, boys. When die want to die
trying. want to die fighting; I don't want
to starve to death. But Pll tell you, boys,
what / intend to do. want you to under.
stand that Pm not actuated by selfish mo.
tives; want you to understand that Pm moi
leaving you in the lurch. / will risk my life
on the mountain to bring you relief. Tll BIZ
with you again in seven daysi"