St. Landry democrat., 1884-02-09

y
and at six o'clock were in the timber of
Copper Creek on the eastern slope. In
few minutes more they were in q snug
cabin by a glowing fire, telling their
story to four fearless, big-hearted
miners.
They all knew Bill Lewis, and thought
he could win if any man could; but they
had little hope of finding Little John
alive. They all, however, willingly
made ready to set out. They had eight
miles of comparatively easy trail, which
they could do in three hours, leaving
them two hours in which to climb the
two miles from UNDERLINE to Red
Mountain summit. Without great diff
iculty they reached the foot of the slide
in the time proposed. But discourag-
ing, indeed, was the prospect upon ar
irving there. That drearY waste of
snow, snow, nothing but snow, stretch
ing up, up, up, at an angle of seventy
degrees, until it faded in the uncertain
light; the wind roaring far above their
heads as it came sweeping over from
the other side; all brought swift sense
of their own powerlessness as against
the appalling forces of nature, which
weighed down and discouraged them
drearily.
One by one they crawled up the fear
full winding way. Not. one had heart
to speak or breath to spare. Even min
utes seem long in a. time and place like
this, and it seemed an age before they
saw the top, and, oh, how long before
they reached it.
They had hitherto been warm enough.
But when they turned the summit the
cold west wind chilled them through.
There was no snow falling, but the wind
was driving and swirling the recent
snow in small cyclones OF arctic horror
around their shrinking forms. In a
moment they had abandoned every
hope.
There was no Bill Lewis there.
There was no council held; there was
no time for that; but instinctively every
man rushed forward for some slight
shelter. Onward they went, at times
easily and rapidly over the hard, old
snow, and then struggling through deep
drifts, until, some half mile from the
summit, they saw something dark in
the snow ahead.
1t could be nothing else. But were
they alive or dead?
Good, faithful Balaam! no man shall
abuse thee more! Brave Bill Lewis!
Thy sins be forgiven thee!
Bill had worked his way up from the
cabin by tramping the snow in front of
Balaam, a hundred feet at o time, and
going over the ground several times, I'M
til the animal could pass through, and
then repeating for another hundred feet.
This he had done in biting blast and
binding snow, never faltering, never
despairing, for six long hours!
Bills greeting was characteristic:
swell done, pards! / know'd you'd
come. The kid was better at the cabin;
but whether alive or dead now don't
know. Look an see.
Little John was alive and warm.
s.Now, pards, there's six O goa.
Balaam's pretty nigh played out.
Shoulder the ends o. them ERE poles an
strike for CaspaE's cabin-frst trail to
the left after We strike timber. Balaam
an I'll go back to the cabin, an come
over in the mornin'. You kin wait for
me. I'll come-for I've learnt sumthin'
at that thar cabin, an I'm goin' to see
this thing through!''
The six men took up the litter, and
Bill and Balaam went back to the cabin
at timber-line. They had packed the
trail pretty well coming down in line,
andso, without special difficulty, though
slowly and YEARLY, they gained the
and the dreadful and critical
fifty feet once passed, they felt that
their troubles were ended.
The next morning was bright one
on the eastern s!ope of the main range.
Low down in the big timber, nestled in
o warm nook, with an eastern and
exposure, was a miners cabin.
the water was dripping from
the roof-logs which oyerhung the front;
the pile Of mineral specimens on the
rude shelf beside the door sparkled in
the sunshine; the dog basked upon the
chips; the burros rubbed their necks to-
gether at the watering place; the fire
was swapping. in the rude forge, and
miner was heating and pounding his
drills and picks. Other men were sit
ting on the shafting ti1nbers which were
piled around, smoking their pipes and
talking of the sick boy who lay within.
Little John had already made his way
to these strangers hearts.
He was not delirious now. But he was
pale, and wore q hopeless look that was
pitiful. No one OF them thought he had
vet come out from the dark shadow,
and there was q sadness in their faces
and hush in their voices.
After a few hours Bill came. The
miners proposed TO go to the railroad
station for physician and such deli
cac;es as mining camps do not af-
ford. Bill accepted the proposition in
regard to the delicacies, but insisted
that he himself would be nurse and