The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1886-07-29


| Aunt Tina, as she turns around the bet
ter to admire it. Il don't know when
have seen one of such intense color
INC. If the old fashioned child stories
are to be believed there must be very
! gorgeous treasure indeed at the foot #
that bow"
..And why not believe them?" ques-
tions Mr.. Monk, who, in spite of his
rough garb, is well-informed, pleasant
| Young gentleman. "For my part, |
have never yet gotten rid OF the idea
that if one would really find the end OF
the bow he would also find the treasure. "
Yes, certainly" says Aunt Tina,
with a smile, ''if one could find the end
of the bow"
Mr.. Monk" questions a sharp, high
pitched voice at this moment, where
do you think that the end of the rain
bow is?'
Mr. Monk turns bis head to follow the
direction pointed out by the nervous
brown finger.
| ''That?'T he repeated with a mis-
chieyous twinkle in his eye. why,
down Turner'S Point, to be sure"
II believe. Mr.. Monk" said Aunt
Tina again, that you told me many
| beautiful stones OF rare value had been
found in the rugged ciiitfs of the canon. /"
Yes" returns Mr. Monk. several
fine rubies, sapphires and emeralds
have been picked up, it is said, tloulgh
none OF late. | have never been so t"f'
tunate as to find one myself with
smile, 'but the guides who were here
before me stumbled upon an exceedingly
fine emerald in the gorge below Turner's
Point"
All the way back to the hotel the
words Down Turner's Point to be
sure?" kept beating time, syllable for
syllable, through SWANS busy brain.
| "Of course it is" he reasons. ''Where
else could it beP Why, hasn't he seen
| it with his own eyes, resting against the
rugged points of the biggest bowldecP"
He has marked the place we'll There
| is stunted pine at one side and great
clump of laurel bushes, rhododendrons,
| Aunt Tina calls them. On the other
| there is great rock that shines in the
! moonlight like is if streaked with silver,
| with here and there a cluster of beauti-
| ful ferns and moses and a tiny cascade
| trickling down its sides; Ribbon cas-
| cade, Mr.. Monk calls it. Of course the
treasure is there! And oh, how he does
| want it! Not SO much for himself as
! for Aunt Tina-Aunt Tina whom he
| loves so dearly in spite of the thought
that sometimes she is little too hard
Oh him. But at others how she does
| pet and humor him. And oh, they are
so happy together. Happier still, per-
| haps, because in all the world they have
only each other. And there is Aunt
Tina's book. How hard she has work
ed on it, day and night, and how much
she does want it publishedi But the
hard-hearted publishers, to whom many
| pages of the snowy manuscript have
been submitted have declared that they
can't touch it till part, at least, of the
money is forthcoming to pay for some
sort of plates. Swain wonders what
kind of plates they can be, and what in
the world dishes have to do with print
| ing. He has ventured to ask Aunt
Tina once, but, being absorbed in her
work, she has only answered briefly,
stereotype plates" and so he is as
much in the dErk as ever.
If he could only get that money for
Aunt Tina, which she has never yet
been able to get herself, for Aunt Tina
is only poor teacher with a meager
salary.
At o'clock this same afternoon,
when every guest of the house IS enjoy
ing his or her siesta, shut in the seclu-
sion of their rooms. a slight figure clad
in flannel knickerbockers, with a sailor
waist of the same, issues, stick in hand,
from a side entrance.
Ten minutes later the same figure
makes its way along the railroad track
to where small footpath turns off to
the left, with a stunted pine near at
hand labeled: ITO Turner's Point"
1T don't look so very awfulr' ex-
claims Swain, as he follows the path. He
stands at length beside clump of
dwarfed pines, and looks down upon
the river, much more peaceful here than
100 yards above. where its fury seems to
have been finally expended in the last
of the great cascades.
But in spite of this peace and quiet
the scene formed bv the stupendous
masses OF granite upheaved on every
side, with their bare and frowning
ledges and the sheer precipitous fall of
their rocky sides for nearly 1000 feet,
is enough TO inspire even the boldest
with fear.
A strange feeling of awe and dread
steals for a moment into the child S
heart and he partly turns as though he
would 90 back. The next, apparently
ashamed of even this faint show of cow
ardice, he graspS his stick firmly and
begins to climb downward.
There is no regular path, but he catches
sight here and there of a trodden tuft
of grass and the shredded twigs of ash
and laurel, that show plainly where the
foot and hand of the daring climber
, have left their prints.
Very cautiously Swain picks his way
at first; then, as he finds it easier than
l he has thought, he grows bolder.
Finally, when about three hundred feet
down, projecting ledge stops his
further progress kneeling down, he
crawls TO the edge and looks over.
, The very piace!' he cries eXcitedly,
. land just know it is down therer'
/ But the "down there" is fully $50
feet beneath him. and is another pro-
jecting ledge. but much larger, and
| thickly covered with ferns and moses,
over which thread-like cascade
| trickles.
! As he leans farther over tiny some
thing that glitters in the suns rays
, catches his eye.
; 1t is imbedded in the soil of the ledge
, a foot or so beneath him.
Reaching down he quickly grasps it.
and then with an eXultant little CRY
: springs to his feet. But the next mo
ment the cry of cxultation is changed
, to one of supplication and terror. for il
E the sudden spring his feet have come il
, contact with treacherous tuft that i
barely hanging to the cliffs edge. A
they press against it it gives way. anC
: the next moment he goes headlong owe
t the ledge.
7 Up at the hotel all is confusion ant
< excitement, for he has been missed, ant
: the mother and aunt, in her agony 0
/ terror, is beseeching landlord, clerk
r guide, walters, all to 60 in search O