The Vancouver independent. (Vancouver, W.T. [Wash.]) 1875-1910, 1881-07-28
THE HUNTERS STORI.

The campfire fickered hotly, like a
Acarlet curse, on the faces of the group
of prospectors gathered about it, and
Sung light, lambent and uncertain,
sow sinking almost into insignificance,
and now leaping fiercely into the enor-
mons vault of thickest darkness that sur
rounded us, unlighted by crescent or
STAR.
We were camped at the head of Clear
Water Canyon. On every side doomed
ND mighty, lofty mountains, closhed with
gigantic trees, that, when daylight
should come with its softening tints,
would be seen rearing their graceful
heads against the changeful morning
sky. -,
We were in hunters paradise, for all
species of pane found In temperate ell
mates were here to be found.
We had finished our toothsome supper
of yenison and trout-which latter OF
enormous size, the brawling Clear Water
had afforded-and having produced pipes
and tobacco, became seemingly absorbed
in the clouds OF curling smoke.
t'By George" CALCULATED Jim Mackay,
our recognized leader, a noted hunter
and scout; "it's darker than stack OF
black cats, and for that reason, it's a
6rst-class night for an Indian attack,
though haven't seen signs of any. How
ever, it's always best to be on the safe
nnrried down to the Clear Water.
Soon returning he set the trimming
pals down, and then STOPPING, stroked
with significant touch the head of dog,
Who looked up with great, loving eyes
INTO his masters face.
Take care, Guard" said his master as
he threw himself down beside the fire,
and low whine answered him.
-'Come, Dlngley, it's your turn to tell
\ story" Mackay said, turning toward
long, gaunt man, with one of the home.
hest faces that ever disfgured q mans
personal appearance, yet, who neverthe-
less, had one of the hndest hearts that
,-1er beat, and whose rough exterior
masked an inexhaustible fund of dry,
quaint humor.
That's so, Dingley" broke in others
q the group; "and there's no let-off this
time, we can tell you"
Dingley idolently stretched his India.
rubber form to its full dimensions, took
his pipe from his mouth, blew q man.
moth cloud of smoke, watched it dis
appear, and then said in very de-
hberate manner that characterized the
Oregonian:
81 reckon / never told yer the way I
once sent an Indian to the happy hunt
izg-grounds, have II"
''No. How was it?" questioned Mac
hy.
WALL" began Dingley, sit war good
many years ago, but az thar amt much
ser remember, reckon can put it inter
sosds for yer benefit"
Dipgley was q capital story-teller, had
= deep, musical voice, like the undertone
u an organ, making one involuntary
think of satyr possessed OF q sersph's
rolce, and when in earnest would at
hines drop the .vernacular of the plains,
and fragments of an early culture would
srop out in his talk.
Eyer see, it was when Oregon didn't
boast of q great number of white settle
nsents, and the Siwash we're determined
Mat it shouldn't boast of one. was
Nth . band, scouts, who were trying to
nd the emigrants in keeping their scalps.
Tor which the Siwash were s-6nguring
pretty close. We'd shared in good
many rather tough scrimmsges-in fact,
I'D been scouting for about six months
when one day We started on . bee-line
lor Jack Hudson's, to zee how he war
banking it.
Eyer see, we all knew Jack, fer he was
10 Of the best-hearted fellows that you
vvsr saw, and he was one of the best |
iAots that ever fred . gun. He was al
gsys glad to see one in the large-sized |
Iabin he built far inter the woods, and |
seated yer to the best that the woods or
~ streams could furnish.
II never SO him downhearted in my
ffe, never . mite hustered in the midst
danger, With never thought fer him.
~ II be ~ . comrade in dangsr-al-
Iuys the sane gallant, ight-hearted,
usso old Jack.
ssHs livsd il . large clearing IN W