Butte semi-weekly miner. [volume] (Butte, Mont.) 1886-1890, 1886-12-04
LEFT IN 4 PIT.


LEFT IN THE PIT.
Il was past noon when ! started fof tAs
homo Of my betrothed. But my hot1s was
good and / rode hard might Be ct Trevesy
by nightfan. There was q sprinkle of snow
on the ground, and . feathery shower fell
lightly around me, Of which I thought
nothing till sunset The short, dark day wa
over at s o'clock; and at that hour . sharp
wind sprang up and the snow began falling
thickly. / felt somewhat blinded and be.
wildered by the big flakes, ever flying down.
ware, and onward, and around me-, like q
cold, patient army, whose onGlaught could
never be stayed or driven back.
Still I pushed on, though the poor beast !
rode shook and trembled, and strove, In his
dumb way, to reason against my headstrong
will. And now, with some dismay, I sud-
denly perceived, by the sinking Of my horse,
even to his tanks In heaped snow, that, be-
wildered by the whiteness, he and I had lost
the road. It was but . rough one At the
best, for I was in a wild country, where
mines were many and fien and dwellings
few. Extricating my poor steed from the
drifted snow wherein he 6olindered ! rested
him q moment and shouted for help. Again
and again my cry came back to me, follow
ing on the wings Of the cold wind, but no
other sound broke the deathly stiffness of the
night
O, for the saving light in some charitable
windowl But there was, hone-on1y now
and darkness, darkness and snow all around.
I thought it terrible, and yet in q little span
Of time from this I would have deemed it
paradise to be lying lonely In the heaped
snow upon this drear moor.
I put my horse to q sharp canter and he
went about a furlong blindly, then stood still
morting with terror. I strove to urge him
on, but he refused to obey either whip or
spur. Seeing no reason for my horses fright
or stubbornness I spurred him sharply, and
urged him with angry voice to obedience.
His wonderful obstinacy compelled me at
length to dismount; and, with drawn sword
in my hand; prepared for h~iehwayman ot
footpad, l dragged him inward by the bride.
Upon this he made one hasty plunge forward,
then stopped, and at the same instant the
earth went from beneath my feet, and I fell
fell I knew not whittier, down, down, into
deep darkness unfathomable, terrible as the
great pit. I can scarcely say whether I
thought as I fell, yet I knew I was going to
death-knew I was descending one Of those
unused shafts that lie on many q Cornish
~moor-knew that my bones would be TIN
thought Of in its depths forever.
But sven at that instant my fight was
arrested, and I hung in mid air, clinging by
hands, to what I knew not. It was my
sword, which I had forgotten that I held. By
a miracle it had thrust itself as / fell between
the earth and the rocks in the side Of the
shaft, and, damned fast, it held me up.
I cannot explain how this occurred. I only
know that it was SO. As the cry for mercy
escaped my lips the mercy came. Ny sword
caught in the interstices Of the rock, and I
was held up, my feet dangling over the abyss,
my hands clinging to the hilt Of my good
blade. It was firm as wedge; I could feel
that in spite Of my trembling; yet still my
position was horrible. To remain thus, to
hold on, was torture trnutterable, but to yield,
even for a moment, was death. There was no
hope for relief even for hours; there was no
possibility of relief of posture; there was moth
ing but strong endurance and courage to
carry me through. I waited, I suffered, I
prayed.
It was a night to me of fire. The winds
blew and the snow fell, bnt the cold touched
me not; I had fallen too deeply in the shaft
for that, even if my tortured blood could have
felt it.
Morning broke ct last, and hope grew with
it. At intervals l had called aloud through
all the night, but now, with scarcely any in
Permission, I raised my voice in cries for help.
I did this till WEAKNESS stopped me, and I
rested in agonized hope Of a voice in reply.
There was none. No sound reached me. I
was in my grave alone. I called again, again,
again. I husbanded my voice. I drew in
breath and shouted with the strength of de-
spair. There was no answer.
The SUN Travelled upward, and I knew it was
high noon, though to me the stars were visi-
bic likewise; yet the midday rays shone some
WHEAT into -tha shaft and -ehowvd H0 how T
hung. The pit here was quite perpendicular;
it sloped slightly from my feet upward, and I
had found rest for mi foot OF a ledge Of the
rock. o, the ease to my anguish from this
merciful restl Tears sprang to my eyes as I
thanked God for it.
The sun had shown me that to climb out of
the pit unaided was impossible, 50 I called for
help again, and called till my voice failed me.
I ceased to cry, and night fell down again.
As the hours crept on q kind of madness
seized me; phantoms sprang up from the pit
and tempted me to plunge below; horrible
eyes glared on me. But worst Of all was the
sound of water-a purling rin flowing gently
in my very ears, trucking drop by drop in
sweetest music, horribly distant. Waterl
To reach water I would willingly die; but I
knew it was madness, so I resisted the fiery
thirst that would have me release my hold
and perish. Water! Yes, there was water
at the bottom Of the shaft, fathoms deep
below my feet, but I could only reach that to
die: and there was water OF the fair earth,
fathons above me-water I should never see
again.
Igrew dizzy-sick-blind. I should have
fainted-have fallen-died; but as I leaned
nv head against the rock I felt as though a
cold, refreshing hand were laid upon it sud-
denly.
It was waterl It was no madness-it was
water. A tiny stream trucking through the
bare wall of rock, like dew from heaven. !
held forth my parched tongue and caughtthe
drops as they fell; and as drank my strength
was renewed, and hope and the desire for life
grew warm within me again. And yet on
this the second night Of my imprisonment !
cared not SO passionately-I looked not 50
eagerly for succor. My limbs were numbed.
nv brain deadened; life was ebbing toward
| death: q shadow at times fell over my eyes,
| and II I held still to the hilt of my sword, il
my feet sought still the ledge that rested
them, they did it mechanically from habit
and not from hope.
I think sometimes I was not in my right
mind. I was among green fields and woods
I was gathering flowers; I was climbing
mountains; and from these visions I invari
ably awoke to darkness-darkness above
around-darkness below, hiding the abyss tina,
hungered greedily for my life. And NJ
friendly face, no voice, no football near. MOI
even a step, through all these slow, SLOW
hours. If passing peasant through the day
had heard the lonely cry rising from tn
depths, he had set it down to ghost or pixy
and had passed on his frightened way regard