The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1884-02-01
AN UNKNOWN FRIEND.

AN UNKNOWN FRIEND.
Half-Moon was a new mining camp
in deep canyon at the head waters of
the Gunnison. One Of that adventurous
class known as "prospectors" had, in
the fall of 1881, wandered through that
country, following burro which bore
upon it's back all his worldly wealth,
and had brought into winter quarters
in the valley of the Arkansas such
promising specimens. of brittle and ruby
silver that many, seeing them, were in
duced to 60 in the spring to spy out
the land. And so it happened, on a
March night in 1882, that a dozen
camp-fires were brightly burning, a
dozen tents were dimly outlined in the
shadows and openings of the stunted
pines, and forty or fifty men, in groups
of from three to six. were gathered
around the fires smoking their evening
pipes and relating their experiences and
wonderful finds Of the year before.
Among fifty men brought together
from every part of the world, in a wild
county, by purpose born, to some ex-
tent at least, of selfshness and greed,
some are likely to be found in whom
brutishness predominates. There were
several such in the camp at Half-Moon.
The poets say that communion with
nature ro6nos and oleuatos the soul, and
leads men onward and upward toward
natures God. The poets are somewhat
wrong. The kindly spirit born and
reared amid the best influences of a
city home, where all the surroundings
are of refining character, will become
. kindlier and better as the years 90 on;
while tho dull man will become duller,
and the mean man meaner, in the very
presence and hush of nature. At least
it is sometimes so; and it was so with
Bill Lewis.
He had seen nature in all her majesty,
moods and aspects for more than thirty
years; had traversed the country from
the Missouri to the Pacific shore:
lunched on the highest SUBMITS and
camped in the deepest gorges. And
yet his depravty was immense! He
had been convicted of dozen crimes,
and committed an hundred others with
out conviction Each succeeding fall
had found him worse in every way than
the preceding spring, and those who
knew him best frequently remarked upon
the new and ever-increasing capabilities
for sin which he was constantly unfold
ing.
But he was not wholly bad Perhaps
no man ever was. There was rumor
among the miners, credited by few,
that once or twice during his career his
rough voice had become gentler and
the light in his fierce eye softer, when
he had been surprised into speaking of
his mother. Where he had come from,
''what made him leave, where his moth
er lived, OF whether she lived at all, no
one knew or had the hardihood to ask.
There was another manor rather
boy--in that camp; but he could not be
seen that evening around any of the
fires. de had come into the gulch in a
crowd of seven who had been on the
trail some twenty days together, and
Bill Lewis was another of the seven.
His name was Zeno Brown. His com
rades had failed to catch or compre-
bend his first name, and he had come to
be called "Little John"
He would have been remarked any
where in mining region as one wholly
out of place. He was light, delicate
and fragile-though seemingly in good
health before coming to the gulch-and
was lily fitted to meet the Yicissitudes
of mountain life. He might have
been born for an artist or poet, or both;
he certainly was never intended for q
miner. Everybody except Bill Lewis
liked and pitied him. Bill apparently
did not hate him; but he despised him
for his soft, tender nature; was in the
habit of calling him "Suse' and .sNel-
lie, " and other feminine diminutives,
and never let pass an opportunity to HUI
initiate and wound him.
In coming into the gulch the party
had an unusually serious trip. The
trail was lily defined; the snow was
deep and soft; they had been compelled
to unpack their animals a score of
times, and to sleep in wet clothes and
wet snow. For all this, however, most
of them cared but little. They were
not invalid tourists, and they had
crossed the range stoo many times in
bad weather to be much troubled by one
trip more.
But with Little John the case was
different. He had never before been
thus exposed, and was evidently not
sustained to any considerable extent by
n hopeful spirit, and he had suecumbed.
lie lay in his tent in his rough blanket
bed, sick, Frustrated, exhausted. There
was no physician there, although most
of those men knew something of sick
ness, and in discussing his case, while
hone could say that he had this or that
disease, all agreed that he was s.clean
gone an likely TO croak,"
They had been talking of him around
the lire when some o.e, coming from a
tent in grove near by, said
Il think Little John IL 90 up to-
night. He's crazy now, an thinks he's
IN Ohioi an keeps talkin' of his moth
Bill Lewis, before silent and sullen.
started up at once. ''I'll go see the
kid. he said
He went, and all followed in wonder.
The bed was warm enough, and soft
enough. But it and its SURROUNDINGS
were terribly rough for one like him in
his condition, The pale face amid the
shaggy blankets, lit up by tallow
candle burning in can; the saddles,
ropes, kettles and tools scattered
around among the bushes upon the
earth floor all together formed a scene
weird and impressive.
AS the man had said, Little John was
delirious and talking of his home and
associates away back in Ohio, but most
Of all his mother, piteously begging her
to forgive him for deserving her. and
never to believe him guilty.
Beyond this brief hint there was moth
Ing ineligible IN bis sayings, Now
Snd then q vera Of pity or ssrgow was