Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1886-09-23

n leathern bottle slung over the machlllas
IF his saddle Concho raised the bottle to
ais lips, took a long draught, made a wry
face, and calculated:
"Carajop
1t appeared thai the bottle did not contain
aguardiente, but had lately been flied in a
tavern near Tres Pinos by an Irishman who
sold bad American whisky under that pleas
ing Castilian title Nevertheless, Concho had
already nearly emptied the bottle, and it fell
back against the saddle as yellow and faccid
as his own cheeks. Thus REINFORCED, Concho
turned to look at the valley behind him, from
which he had climbed since noon. 1t was a
sterile waste bordered here and there by ara
BILE fringes and valdas Of meadow land, but in
the main dusty, dry and forbidding. His eye
rested for moment on a low, white cloud
line ON the eastern horizon, but SO knocking
and unsubstantial that it seemed to come and
go as he gazed. Concho struck his forehead
and winked his hot eyelids Was it the Sierras
or the cursed American whisky
Again he recommended the ascent, AT times
The half-worn, half-invisible trail became ut
terly lost in the bare black out-crop of the
ridge, but his sagacious mule soon found ii
again. until, stepping upon loose bowlder,
she slipped and fell. In vain Concho tried to
lift her from out the ruin of camp kettles,
prospecting pans and picks; she remained
quietly recumbent occasionally raising her
head as if to contemplatively glance over the
arid plain below Then he had recourse to
useless blows. Then he essayed profanity of
secular kind, such as ASSASSIN" "Thief, "
"Beast with pigs head, !" "Food for the Bulls
Horns" but with no effect.
Then he had recourse to the curse ecclesias-
tic: aAh Judas Iscariot! is it thus, renegade
and traitor, thou leavest me, thy master, a
league from camp and supper waitinga Stealer
of the Sacrament. get up"
Still no effect. Concho began to feel un-
easy; never before had a mule of pious line
age failed to respond to this kind Of exhorta-
ton He made one more desperate attempt:
"Ah, defler of the ALTAR lie not therel
Loozlp he threw his hand into the air, extend
ing the fingers suddenly. Behold, fiendl
exercise theel Hal tremblestl Look but lit
tie now-see Apostate! I-I-excommuni-
cate thee Mula!"
"What are you kicking up such devil of
row down there forl7 said gruif voice from
the rocks above
Concho shuddered. Could it be that the
devil was really going sofly away with his
mule. He dared not look up.
"Come now" continued the voice, you just
let up on that mule, you d d old Greaser.
Don't you see she's slipped her shoulders"
Alarmed as Concho was at the information,
he could not help feeling to a certain extent
relieved She was famed, but had not lost her
standing as a good Catholic.
He ventured to lift his eyes. A stranger
an Americana from his dress and accent
was descending the rocks toward him. He
was slight-built man with q dark, smooth
face, that would have been quite common
place and inexpensive. but for his left eye, in
which all that was villainous in him APP
parently centered. Shut that eye, and you
had the features and expression of an or
binary man; cover up those features, and the
eye shown out like EbIis own. Nature had
apparently observed this too, and had, by a
paralysis of the nerve, ironically dropped the
corner Of the upper lid over it like curtain,
laughed at her handiwork, and turned him
loose to prey upon the credulous world.
"What are you doing here's" said the
stranger after he had assisted Concho in
bringing the mule to her feet, and helpless
halt.
prospecting Senor."
The stranger turned his respectable right
eye toward Concho, while his left looked
unutterable scorn and wickedness over the
landscape.
prospecting, what for!'