Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1886-02-24


ton solely to escape Briggs. He paid
his bill and mounted his horse with q
feeling of relief. He felt hand on his
knee, and looking down saw his abom-
nation.
"Never shuk hams, Lo'ell," said the
clerk, his ruby face shining, and
drunken tears in his small eyes.
'sShake, ole man, fur the sake O. ole
times. | grabbed the ham o Teller
onst as were goin' to be scragged; I'm
aladdin farewell to er man as are 60
in to er sheep camp. Amt no diff
unce, as I see-none whatsomever.
Lowell grasped his proffered hand
savagely, wrung it in pure malice till
the bones cracked again, then spurred
furiously down the street. He leased
his sections of land at a price which
seemed to him ridiculously low, and
at which the lessor smiled with enjoy
ment, bought some thousands of ma
tive ewes, and imported ornately
wrinkled bucks from Vermont, which
died, most of them, the coming winter.
He found the life lonely and hard be-
yond belief. He had books, but they
would not last forever. He was not
a musical man, nor a writing man, nor
g. drinking man, SO he found time hang
heavy on his hands. Hethought often
Of his Northern home, more especially
of the bright fires and faces there when
the Northers were snarling. He could
see them, he thought, grouped round
the table, all comfort, all easy enjoy
ment, and hegnashed his teeth and as
saulted his loneliness in the vain effort
to beat it down. There vas absolute
ly no companionship. His herders
were Mexicans who spoke not his
language. The very dogs chung to their
masters, and would have none of him.
Scrapville was fifty miles to the south,
and there were none of it's men or
women he cared to see. His nearest
neighbors were cattle owners, hard
riders and hard drinkers, who hated
him for his sheep, which they swore SO
injured the range that no living thing
would eat the grass over which they
had passed. He had been g.
collegian, g. man Of influence
in his college, leader OF certain sets
in later days, and for his years a man
of affairs. 1t angered him that the few
people he met gagged him only by his
knowledge of range requirements and
ability to sit pitching pony. He was
little versed in the former; could not
do the latter SO we'll as they, and their
thinly-veiled contempt CALLED him to
an extent that later he looked back
on with amazement. "Hecould down
God Almighty at a spellin' bee," said
one man; "but he can't ride" That
was the idea he told himself. That
which he knew was of no earthly use
to him; that which they knew was
everything. Yet there was vein OF
pluck, or stubbornness, in the man
and he chung to his sheep. He saw
them die, he cursed their rotting
bodies, and held on. His employees
robbed him; he discharged them, and
hired others. He saw his dollars fad.
ing away with the stiff forms on the
prairies; he looked at his dwindling
bank account, and resolved to buy
more. Every blast which tore down
on his lonely cabin brought on it's
wings the ghastliest ruin; he knew it,
thought of what he had lost, of Whist
the future held for him, saw in his
dreams possible murder, probable sui
eide, ground his teeth and swore to
see it out. He had become a morose,
savage man when the long winter end
ed and the airs blew softly from the
south.
He dared not count his losses, but
tried to shake from him all remem-
brance of the horrible past time. He
had nothing to reproach himself with,
beyond ever setting foot in the cursed
country. His property had been as
well cared for as that OF his neighbours
It was simply i'll luck that tugged at
his garments and dragged him back.
He bought more sheep and turned
them over to his men, the grass grew
strong and fresh, the hills were velvet
to the SUBMITS. over the divide, Scrap
vile way, the level prairie was a mass
OF flowers, yellow and blue and white
and red and gray, the divinest har-
of color. From the highest of
the mounds he could look far to the
southwark, and the earth seemed
striped with brilliant ribbons. Per-
fumes were on the air and the atmos-
phere had in it an Intoxicating invig-
ORANGE. The winds whispered to him
of health, and that which was better
than health, success; of mercy and all
tender things; and he was sorry that
he had hated his men and cursed God.
He rode once week to the main road,
which ran from one of the southern
towns to the northern counties. He
met the mail carrier then, lonely lit
tie man who rode always with head
dropped forward, as though oppressed
by the vast stiffness. He was always
glad to gee Lowell, exchange a quiet
word with him, give him his letters
and ride on slowly. It seemed to the
ranchman that the going of this week
ly visitor took with it something from
things around him, and left him more
lonely than before. The man would
look at him with q, quiet, searching.
pitying gaze that always puzzled him.
He did not know that the carrier, who
had led a wild life and knew all men
and ali places, noted his gradual deter
ioration, the increasing slovenliness
of his dress, the fading of his old as
sertiveness, the wan, hunted look in
his face. "Better move, Cap'n," the
mail-rider said to him once. "You're