Elmore bulletin. [volume] (Rocky Bar, Idaho) 1889-1906, 1890-09-20
AN oLo HUNTERS STORY.
why tho Gray Bearded Stranger Hated
tho sight of n Wolf skin.

why the Gray Bearded Stranger Hated
the sight of Wolf skin.
He was along in years, as saw by
his iron gray beard, and l saw upon
his goods that his name was Cross.
He was a tall man. and his build
showed that he was a man OF great
muscular power He examined the
wolf skin for a moment, then threw il
from him. muttering deep curse. the
meaning of which did not under.
stand. privately asked my friend
what it meant
"Ahf' said he. ''he has sad story
10 tell"
My neighbor, who had only come as
guide, went home in the afternoon, I
and as Mr. Cross was somewhat ia
tigued by the journey from the set |
tlement. we did not leave the camp |
that day was very anxious 10 hear
Mr.. Z. 5 story. and after supper we sat
around the fire for some time, telling
about the moose and the various
things that had happened during our
few days stay at the head Of Bog river,
which was the name Of the locality
where we were stopping. After my
friend and had exhausted all our
tales, not forgetting that awful nights
watching AT the camp door, we asked
MIR. Gross to tell US something OF his
hunting exploits.
Il have but one story" he replied,
that will much interest you, but do
not often tell il, and ] saw tear
glistening in his eye.
told him we would be pleased 10
hear his story. but did not wish for
him TO call anything TO remembrance
that would cause him grief. He re
piled. The wound has been healed
these many years, though often now
il seems 10 bleed afresh. but my story
now will tell.
IL was born in tho northern part OF
Vermont My father was farmer.
! and as was the only child, my ia
ther gave me the homestead. He died
quite young aud the care Of the farm
devolved on me. My mother soon
: became lame and unable to do the
work, and resolved To marry. Dear
Louisa, farmers daughter who
lived but a few miles away, was the
one to whom gave my heart and
hand, and, indeed, she was worthy OF
the love of any man. My mother soon
: after died, and we laid her beside hei
! husband in the churchyard.
Two children were born to us,
0 Tommy and Louisa. We watched
: over them in their infancy, and loved
u them dearly Tommy was z, anC
, Louie, us we called her. was 8. Schoo
: was to commence the next Monday
u and as they had never been To school
y we made arrangements TO send them
! The schoolhouse was about one-hal
Q a mile off, beyond a piece Of woods
!. | went with them the first and seconI
). day, and met them at night, as theN
u were afraid To go through the wood
r alone: but the third day Tommy said
Papa need not go with us any more
we can go alone ! granted thei
n wish. and soon saw them disappear
a going toward the schoolhouse, swing
u ing their little dinner pals.
y They had been gone but fey
d minutes had taken up my AK. an
" was about commencing TO cut som
,r wood | heard little Tommy scream
4 % dear papal o dear, papar burs
upon my ears; and AT the same me
'e ment heard little Lulie call mamma
d mammal Ii is needless To say that
3 rushed to their rescue, tightly grasT
,r ing my AK In one minute saw tw
L wolves tearing my dear children {
70 pieces. With an unearthly yell,
$ rushed upon them. One left my chill
a, and sprung upon me; lie lay dead th
o next instant. sprang upon the othe
that was tearing the flesh from th
Is check of my little girl; but he ra
a. swiftly away Poor little Lulie wa
IL dead; little Tommy raised his tor
a and bloody hand, and family said
y % papa, wish you come forer
~ was his last words; in few moment
" he breathed his last took my deJ
10 ones in my arms. and carried them
at my house. My wife was at the barn
es lay them on the bed, my wife 500
er came in. She looked upon her chi
rs dren. uttered fearful wall OF sorrow
Is and fell almost lifeless upon the hooI
n The shock was too much for her, al
" indeed, more than many mothe
10 could have stood, and within oil
I'd month she died a raving maniac. 81
A sleepsin Vermont beside her dear bab
a she loved so we'll" When he had I'll
oil ished his story there was not a dry e,
m in the camp. and for some time not
ut word was spoken. But the eveniI
ct was far spent, and we soon retired
n, our beds To dream over the events
y. the day. Thomas A. Crabtree in Ley