The Ottawa free trader. [volume] (Ottawa, Ill.) 1843-1916, 1890-03-15

| wlnu-SlRnlnS LII tuo All "hcio ho AoicoS
trees are. 1t will come, and then the
vengeance falls and CO."
The sad eyes were gazing through the
veil we all seek to pierce but may not.
Moung Ko was in boding contemplation
of issues that as yet were below the ho-
rizon of his fellows.
frowned at myself, for again l was
conscious Of certain eerie impression,
| produced in defiance of reason, upon my
mind. And, TO an outsiders judgment,
the sky had no clouds.
Although | was guest, and not a
prisoner, and although Moung 10 had
expressly stated that he trusted me, it
was notion that grew in strength as
the DAYS went by that l was watched,
and that Moung Ko preferred that |
should not wander far afield.
Call it ingratitude, or the mere spirit
of contrariness and self assertion, as you
please, the fact remains that, one fine
morning, | secreted my revolver and a
stock of ammunition upon my person
and managed to elude the surveillance,
got up once more into the heights, and
in the exhilarating sense of freedom
snapped my fingers at the cautious old
priest.
The day was better chosen than at the
first moment of my revolt guessed.
While | was continuing and extending
the exploration previously interrupted
by my accident the storm broke. The
peace had been treacherous after all.
Some spark fell on the combustible ma
terial of race passion and tribal Jealousy,
and there was disastrous outburst Of
sanguinary fury. But of this at the
time, as l say, was in ignorance. The
care that came to me was of different
sort. When a declining sun warned me
to work my way downward if did not
wish to camp out, l made blunder and
took my bearings so indifferently that /
was lost.
Instead of striking the track looked
for, had strayed into desolate gulch,
strewn with the debris of mighty rocks
shattered, no doubt, in some remote nat
ural catastrophe. How to escape knew
not, except by the weary expedient of
retracing my steps. A wall of adamant
blocked the path in front. Suddenly l
halted, in the cover of a huge bowlder.
A mysterious figure, which | instantly
recognized again, was at work amongst
the stones little distance ahead, appar-
emily burying treasure. saw bundle
after bundle pushed into yawning hol-
low. With stupefied gaze l watched.
What genius of Desert Mountain was
this? Uncouth, dunrobed, dwartish; l
do not wonder that, for space, be-
lieve in being of other lineage than
the human. But when the strange,
squat figure moved off, was sufficiently
daring or sufficiently magnetized 20 fol-
low.
Pursuit was unexpected, and stealth
ruled my conduct. l was led by winding
ways into yet another place of bewilder-
ment. OF Burmese ruby mines l knew
a little by report and reading. Now
was in one. On every side were tokens
of the fact, abruptly realized, that caprice
had brought me into one of natures no.
table treasure houses. Astonishment in
duced carelessness. My foot overturned
a stone, and my presence was discov-
cred.
1t was an instant of curious crisis.
And l fancy my unwilling guide was as
uncertain of result as myself. But was
in light just then, and he was in shadow,
and it gave him the advantage of quick
knowledge. He came forward, not even
pausing as he heard the click of my
weapon, drawn against eventualities.
Closer scrutiny revealed a deformed
Burman boy, with the stamp equally of
intelligence and suffering on his pinched,
prematurely old countenance, And it
was startling thing that he called me at
once by my name, without prefix or ex-
PLANTATION.
"What do you do here, HoTon?" he
asked in a shrill, troubled voice.
Il want the path to the lower village"
I answered. II have missed it,"
At last got clew to much that was
pulling
"You are far out of your way. You
can not reach the zyat tonight. 1t will
be better to stay in father's-in our cave
again. Come"
| obeyed the word and gesture, and
very few PAGES brought us through
steep descent on to my old ledge, and
thus once again into the familiar quar-
tiers of Moung Kos secret home.
My gent of the mine, then, was Moung
Kos son!
"Hark" said he. And a terrified look
came upon his countenance.
| listened, but could hear nothing. My
senses were less acute than his.
Eyes, yes; it has come, as he said it
would, the boy cried, shifting his breast.
And his eyes dilated with fear.
"What is your trouble!" | asked,
though could already guess.
"Hark, say, again! he answered in
an agony; 1.-The wailing is louder! There
is fighting below in the valley. Oh, will
they kill him?'
Kill the loved and revered phoonghie,
of whose lapses from orthodoxy there
seemed no current suspicion! thought
it very unlikely. Yet the foreboding
words of the seer echoed in my memory.
The eventide went in anxious watch
ing and waiting. 1t was marvellous how
the one touch Of nature made us kin.