Iron County register. [volume] (Ironton, Iron County, Mo.) 1867-1965, 1886-03-18
PART III.
THE SHADOWS ON THE SNOW RANGES.

| Far away from English homes and
| English firesides. our story takes US, on
| a dark and cherries night, to a small
| canvas tent. pitched in a gully, on each
| side of which frowning ranges rear
| their lofty heads. To this small tent
| we come from the dear old land, across
wild and stormy seas, through gale and
tempest, over tropical waters where the
blood-red moon rises from lurid
ocean. past icebergs looming threaten
ingly near, mid tracks of phosphores-
cent light cleaning in the darkness of
the darkest night-to this small tent,
wherein are conferred all the elements
of passion which make up the sum of
human life in the great world beyond.
Months fly. seasons change, and glow
ing aspirations fade away, and are lost
forever, in the gulf of time. The drama
of some mems lives is played out upon
many stages: for others, a single scene
upon a narrow stage suffices for the
commencement and the end
A dark. cold, cherries night. The
solitudes wear their saddest aspect.
The moon is in its third quarter, and
rises late. The wind, shrieking for
freedom, tears about the snow-clad
hills. and, finding no outlet. robs the
surfaces of a myriad soft and graceful
flakes, and, whirling them into furious
eddies. is stripped in its turn of its
stolen treasure by every sharp nook
and crevice it strives to pass. The hills
are here the master of the gale, which
grows more frantic in its vain endeav-
ors to escape into the plains, where it
can revel at its pleasure, with naught
to oppose its supremacy. But the
lo1 -
scorn its wild shrieks. knowing full
will die away in fitful whispers, and
find its grave in the valleys below
A dark. cold, cherries night. With
the exception of this small tent, no
trace of civilization near. Here
Nature reigns supreme. The lofty
mountains, rising range over range,
shut out from the world the gully in
which our scene is laid. And yet, be-
tween this sterile. savage spot and our
lovely Devon lane there is close
and human connection. Invisible but
inde>tructible links of love connect the
Old World and this that we call the
New. The thoughts of one man at
least, sitting in the tent with his face
hidden in his hands. are travelling
toward the beautiful lane in Devon,
which teens with pleasant and one ter
ribly bitter memOry-to the narrow,
quiet lane in the garden of England,
wherein were eliminated his life's
happiness and his life's great sorrow.
Again the scene rises before him.
Again the old familiar faces shape
themselves in the air. and visit him
with loving looks and smiles. Again a
tearfnily happy face is resting on his
breast. and loving eyes seek his.
Again the fond arms are thrown
around him. and tender form is
folded to his breast. And then he
wakes. and, looking up with bitter
smile, shakes off the dream in anger.
Within the tent a party of men are
seated before 4 miserabiy scant fire.
The canvaS-the only roof between
them and heaven - scarcely screens
them from the inclemency of the
storm; and, strong and hardy as they
are, they huddle close together for
warmth, and %Ieedily watch the dying
rough looking fellows, with great
boards and strong limbs. and de-
cided assertion of physical strength in
every movement OF their bodies. Each
has short, black pipe in his mouth,
which he puffs vigorously and with
will; and all are alike attired in rough
pea-jackets, mole-skin trousers. and
water tight knee boots; their biliycock
hats are on the ground or on the
wooden benches upon which they rest
at night. Although they are in as des-
perate condition as men well can be;
although the country for miles around
Is knee-deep. and in some places man
deep, with snow; although a heavy
drift without is raising barriers almost
impossible; although their last handful
of wood is burning on the fire, and
they know they can obtain no more;
although they have not three
days provisions in their tent
no craven fear disturbs them. If they
have to die they will die like men, as
others have done before them. Some
three or four weeks ago they had set
off on the track of g party of miners,
who, it was whispered, had discovered
new gold-tield. Stealing out in the
dead of night. lest they themselves
should be followed, they plunged into
portion of the country which they
did not hope to find other than barren,
inhospitable and incapable of sustain
ing human life. With the indomitable
courage and apparent recklessness
which form part of the gold-digger's
character, they set themselves the task
OF tracking the men before them and
discovering the locality of their work
ings. No pluck in the world can beat
the pluck of the gold-digger. He snaps
his fingers at obstacles from which
other men would shrink affrighted; he
fights with the barrenness of nature,
and, conquering, opens up country
which, but for his hardihood and dar-
ing, would remain, with its treasure,
forever shut out from the knowledge OF
mankind. There is no pioneer so brave,
so persistent, so enduring. In NO age
or country nave the nobler physical
qualities of man been more worthily
exercised. In the Australian colonies
the gold-digger is the pioneer of prog.
ress.
fTo BE CONTINUED