The Anderson intelligencer. [volume] (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, 1884-01-31
THE UNKNOWN FRIEND.
An Incident of tho Colorado Mining Com
pany.

An Incident OF tho Colorado Mining Com
pany.
By William B. Parsons.
HalfMoon was new mining camp in
a deep canon 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, followed by q burro, which bore
upon its 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 induced to g,
in the Spring to spy out the land. And
so it happened, on March night, IN
1882, that q dozen camp6res were bright
ly burning, dozen tents were dlmly
outlined in the shadows and openings OF
the stunted pines, and forty or fifty mea,
in groups of from three to six, we're
gathered around the fires smoking their
evening pipes and relating their expert.
ences and wonderful finds Of the year be-
fore.
Among fifty men brought together
from every, part of the world, in Wild
country, by a purpose born, to some ex-
tent at least, Of sel6shness and greed,
some are likely to be found in whom
brntishness predominates. There were
several such in the camp at Half Moon.
The poets say that communion with
nature re6nes and :elevates 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 city
home, whera all the surroundings are OF
refining character, will become kindlier
and better as The years 60 on; while the
dull man will become duller, and the
mean man meaner, in the very presence
and hush of nature. At least it is some
times so; and it was so with Bill Lewis.
- He had seen nature in allsher majesty,
moods and aspects for more than thirty
wears: he trayersed the country from
the Missouri to the Pacific shore;
lnnched on the highest submits and
camped in the deepest gorges. And yet
his deprayity was immense. he had
been convicted of dozen crimes, and
committed q hundred others without con.
yiction. Each succeeding Fall bad found
him worse in every way than the preced
ing Spring, and those who knew him
best frequently remarked upon the new
and ever-increasing capabilities fer sin
which he vas constantly unfolding.
But he was not wholly bad. Perhaps
no man ever was. There was rumor
among the miners, credited by few,
that once OF twice during his career his
rough voice had become gentler and the
light in his fierce eye softer, when ne had
been surprised into speaking of his
mother. Where he had come from,
ssswhat made him leave,n where his
mother lived, or whether she lived at all,
no one knew or had the hardihood to
: ask..ts e
ri There was another man -or rather boy
s-in that camp; but he could not be
seen that evening around any OF the
! fires. He had come into the gulch in q
crowd of seven who had been on the trail
y some twenty days together, and Bill
LAWS was another of the seven. His
name was Zeno Brown. His comrades
had failed TO catch or comprehend MS
first name, and he had come to be called
.sssL Little John"
He would have been remarked any
where in mining region as one wholly
& ont 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 vicissitudes OF
mountain life; He might have been
i born for an artist or poet, or both I; be
certainly was never intended for miner.
Everybody except Bill Lewis liked and
pitted him. Bill apparently did not hate
him; but he desplsed him for his soft,
tender nature; was in the habit of call
ing him s'Susie'' and "Nellie," and other
feminine diminutives, and never let pass
an opportunity to humiliate 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 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
too many times in bad weather to be
much, troubled by one trip more.
But with Little John the case was diff
ferent. He had never before been thus
exposed, and was evidently not sustained
TO any considerable extent by hopeful
spirit, and he had succumbed. He lay
in his tent in his rough blanket bed,
sick, prostrated, exhausted. There was
no physician there, although most OF
those men knew something of sickness,
and in discussing his case, while none
could say that he had this or that disease,
all agreed that he was "clean gone and
likely to croak."
They had been talking of him around
the fire when some one, coming from q
tent in grove near by said:
81 think Little John'll go up tonight.
He's crazy now, an thinks he's in Ohio;
an keeps talkin' of his mother"
Bill Lewis, before silent and sul!en,
started up at once. ,''I'll 60 see The kid"
he said
s He went, and all followed in wonder.
The bed mas 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 q taiiow can
die burning in can; the saddles, ropes.
kettles and tools scattered around among
the bushes upon the earth foor-all to-
gether formed scene weird and impress
sive.
AS the man had said, Little John va.
delirious and talking of his home and
associates away back in Ohio, but most
of all of his mother, piteously begging
her to forgive him for deserting her, and
never to believe him guilty.
Beyond this brief hint there was moth
ing intelligible in his sayings. Now and
then word of pity or SORROW was
spoken by some one, but not word of
hope, until suddenly Bill Lewis quietly,
but firmly and confidently, remarked:
ICaL Ill .,,,,k ~ ,oroI