The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1888-08-31
ily. and by nightfall had accomplished
a large part of the task.

ily, and by nightfall had accomplished
large part of the task.
AS the sun went down somber line
OF cloud crept up from the northwest
and the wind shifted into that quarter.
Shortly after dark it increased in yio-
lence, and Bat, going out hoping for
the sound of footsteps thai would an
nounce his fathers return, found the
air filled with fine, sand-like particles
OF snow, which, shifting his face, stung
and cut it like bits Of broken glass.
Chilled and sick at heart, he crept
back into the dug-out, piled the fuel
higher in the little sheetiron stove
and endeavored to prepare his simple
meal. His worst fears were realized.
The blizzard had come. What if his
father, intoxicated and helpless. should
be caught in it?
lie tried to persuade himself that his
father had remained at the camp. He
was an old mountaineer, and, Bat ar
gued, would not be likely to start for
home with the signs of blizzard SO
plainly dIscernible. But drunken man
lacks judgment and caution, fact Bat
well knew; and then he might have
set out early in the afternoon, and,
overcome by liquor, fallen by the side
of the trail.
Again and again Bat opened the door
and strained his eyes through the
pitchy darkness. Each time the snow
whirled in in binding drifts and
the icy blast extinguished the lamp
that he had placed in front of the pane
of glass which served for window, in
the hope that.it might guide his father
home should he be wandering any
where on the mountain side.
When the supper was prepared, in
stead of eating it he set ii away. He
had been rayenously hungry on quit
ting work, but somehow the coffee had
lost it's appetizing odor, the steaming
fiap-jacks seemed fiat and heavy and
the crisp bits of bacon reminded him
of chips.
Suddenly there came light tap on
the door, followed by low whine.
Had he not been listening SO intently
the bowling winds would have borne
the sounds away unheard. He sprang
to the door and threw it open. Shop,
who had followed his master that
morning, came in with the whirling
snow, his shaggy coat as white as the
drifts outside.
Bat held the door open, needless of
the shifting winds, and, shading his
eyes, endeavored to pierce the thick
darkness.
He called again and again, but the
thunder of the storm drowned his calls.
Then he remembered the old musket
that was always kept loaded in the
dug-out and left the door to get it. The
door swung wildly, then banged to and
the suffering lamp went out, plung-
ing the room in darkness, except where
the fire from the sheet-iron stove sent
a rudy glow across the earthen floor.
Paying no heed to this Bat dragged
the gun from it's corner and again
pulled the door open. A moment later
he pressed the trigger. The gloom
was pierced for an instant by the fame
that leaped from the muzzle of the
musket. But the muffled s'boom'' of
the explosion was swallowed up in the
roaring of the winds. Bat listened
anxiously for several minutes, then
closed the door, showed the bolt into
place and again lighted the lamp.
The room was intensely cold and he
crammed more wood into the stove.
The dog, shaking in every limb, crept
closer to him as if for companionship.
''Where'd you leave i'm, Shop, ole
fellerp" Bat asked, patting his head.
The dog whined and crept still closer,
looking straight into the fire.
"Oh, if he cu'd on'y talk! Pap mus
be some'eres clost. Mebbe layin' in
the snow not more'n ten feet from the
door"
Then, as a thought struck him:
''D'you reckon you c'u'd take me to
himP That's a good dog! Where is
hep"
Shop looked into his young masters
face, then at the door, and whined
anxiously.
81 do b'leeve the dog c'u'd find him!
% rf,,1f 10 - L
a-freezin' ter death right by the door!''
Then his face lighted with stern de-
termination.
"I'll try it, any how. / don't b'leeve
I'd git lost, with the dog, an I kin
come back ter the dug-out eff I don't
find any thing
He searched about until he came upon
stout cord. This he tied about the
dogs neck. Then he put on his heavy
coat and mittens. and fastened the
loose end of the cord to his wrist so
that the wind might not wrench it
away.
"Come, Shepn' he said, pointing to
the door. s'Hunt i'm up"
The dog seemed to understand what
was intended and ran covering into
the corner.
Bat dragged him out and had just
placed his hand on the latch when a
dull, rumbling sound caught his ear
and arrested him.
An instant later the mountain seemed
to tremble to its base.
It's the slider he cried, covering
to the floori in terror, as, with mighty
roar, the avalanche passed over the
dug-out.
The room at once began to fill with
smoke. The chimney had been swept
away and the snow, packing in great
drift above, drove the smoke back into
the dug-out.
Bat realized the danger and quickly
extinguished the fire. To effect this
he poured a bucket OF water upon the
l g.. Al 4. I