The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1889-05-29
Selerteo Storp.
A Heroic Horse.

In the mountains of California, as
everybody knows, stages are used for
the transportation of passengers and
their baggage from one point to another;
and twenty years ago there were many
more in use than there are now, be-
cause since then railroads have been
built, and of course people prefer to go
by rail. But at the time / mean the
regular stage lines in the mountains
were in full pressure of business, and
wonderful was the speed and safety
with which the great vehicles passed
over roads so high and so steep, so mar
row and so curved, that at times, to
look above and behind, it seemed as if
they had just slid down thread of yell
low cottonl The drivers of the stages
were generally very skillful men. They
had driven up and down these terrible
inclines so often that they were very
confident, but not enough so to be care
less. They depended much, however,
upon the sagacity of the animals they
drove, for upon their being well trained,
sure-footed, strong and easily managed,
the lives of all the passengers hung.
But once in awhile accidents did
happen; and when they did, alas they
were sure to be sad and often fatal
ones. The one of which / am to tell is
no fiction of mine. 1t really is bit of
history.
One morning the stage, with six pas
sengers and plenty of baggage, began
to go down long incline with many
sharp curves in it and many risky places.
The four horses were in fine condition,
and feeling in very good spirits as they
trotted along at their regular gait. One
of these was an especially fine and we'll
bred creature. He had been born in.
the bluegrass regions of Kentucky (
and had blood in his veins which had
come to him from the celebrated Ara
bian horses of the far East. His name
was Whistler, and there was iaunty
and gay way with him in moving his
thin, well-formed limbs, that )me way
reminded one of the brightness and
cheerfulness implied in merry whistle
They had gone down the hill but lit
tie way when large bit of newspaper,
which had been dropped in the road,
was lifted by the wind and blown
straight into the off-leaders face! He
gave a spring to one side and pushed
Whistler over, falling on to him, drag
ging the pole-horses, coach, passengers
everything into space! Down they
fell, over and over, crash after crash,
cries and groans echoing up over those
silent mountain-sides, until it seemed
the nine hundred feet of horrible de-
scent would never be over and silence
would never come. But at last it did
In undistineuishable ruin the coach,
passengers and three horses Law at the
bottom, crushed, broken, wounded and
dead together. The driver, who had
been alone outside, when-in the brief
instant which was allowed him to
think-he had seen that he could do
nothing to save his coach, had Jumped
into the road and was saved. Two pas
sengers escaped, also, with bad injuries,
but the others were killed. Three of
the horses were killed outright-but
where was Whistler? From every
team up and down the mountain-side
men had collected, and were doing
everything to aid the sufferers, and all
noticed that there were but three horses.
Where was the fourth? The driver,
Dick Swinley at last found time to
think of his favorite. Going carefully
out on rock that overhung the chasm,
he beard little whinny underneath
him, and looking down, what should
he see but Whistler, standing on mar
row ledge about one hundred feet be-
low! Yes, he had fallen upon his feet
like cat, and bruised and frightened
as he was, he had had sense enough to
stand STILL and there he was, hung a.
it were in midair, between heaven and
earth
But he could not move. If he had
n,nUpH m would haxya
dashed down to certain death like the
rest, for the ledge was only just large
enough to hold him. He had not three
inches of spare space. He could just
stand there, and that was all. AS Dick
cautiously crept out little way on the
boulder, he gave low whistle which
he often used as call to his fine horse,
and Whistler pricked up his ears and
whinnied again, a pitiful, sad-sounding
WINNER, as if he knew his desperate
condition and felt he must sooner or
later die. "Oh, boys" cried Dick,
getting back into the road, elf thar
amt Whistler alive and kicking-no,
not kicking, cause he can't move-but
thar he stands like a statoo, a-watin' as
peaceful as lamb for me to come and
git him!"
And with that the poor fellow, from
excitement and sorrow. burst into tears
and sobbed like a baby. "Carn't we
do nothin' fer him?" said he. I" We've
got all the folks up, and doin' as well
ez can be expected; can't we do nothin'
for Whistler? l vaow!" he exclaimed,
tearing off his coat, y" Pm a-goin' to git
him myself. kin do it and / will!'
"Why, Dickl" every one cried, "you
can never get at that horse in the
world! You can neither get him up
nor down. He will stand till he can't
stand any longer, and then he will
have to fall over"
He shan'tl He shan't " cried Dick !;
"Pll save him if you kin help. Whar's
the ropes?"
They soon produced some ropes and
wondered what Dick was going to do.
"Put it around my body" said he,
"and let me down! I'll take blanket
and some more ropes, and hitch up a
tackle that'll bring Dick to the surface