Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1891-12-26
Written fer The Evening Star.


IN An UNMARRIED GRAVE AT THE BASE
Il o. e great lone rock. within visions range
Of Pixies Peak. lie buried the remains of the
man who gave Gen. Phil Sheridan to America
and to history.
The facts contained in this narrative may
sound like romance. They have never until
now appeared in print. although known tC
hundreds Of persons both in Ohio and Colo
RADIO The peculiar circums tances by which
became possessed of the strange story and my
connection with it have rendered my task 8
delicate one. although fer several years l
have been constantly solicited to make them
public Death having removed the two lead
ing figures of the drama, l have at last con-
scented to relate the various details of pathetic
history as they came within my personal knowl-
Edge during a period of fifteen years The
facts contained in the story can be verified by
hundreds of citizens of Colorado. They reveal
q strange blending of drama and tragedy and
cas-: no discredit upon the memory of one OF
the great military figures Of the civil war.
first met George Buckley in 1874. in an en-
bryo mining camp perched high upon the pre-
cipitous slopes of the Sierras San Juan in
southwestern Colorado. How he got into camp
NO one knew and no one inquired. The search
for gold was then too keen to permit of idle
curiosity concerning your neighbor. He must
have climbed the long, toilsome and ZlgZaS
burrO trail leading from Del Norte to sum-
mitvilIe on foot Tor he was wan and weak from
hunger and fatigue when he appeared at our
camp FIRE one night and begged for something
to eat He presented an uncanny picture set
in uncanny surroundings. Tall and gaunt, he
stood before Us as a ghost, while an unkempt
mass of whitened hair fell down over his stoop-
ing shoulders, mingling with beard that fell
almost to mis- waist leaving visible only little
circle Of his face. From underneath his shaggy
eyebrows his eyes cleaned like two great EN-
beers of q once living and consuming fire. His
clothes were in tatters and his limbs trembled
with nervousness and fatigue but his voice had
a deep, mellow ring that despite an undercur-
rent OF pain and WEAKNESS bespoke tie train
ing OF its once masterful owner.
HE WAS ''oLD BINK."
I'm old Blink, and I'm hungry" was his
laconic salutation as he drew up before the
camp fire, aud calmly surveyed the half dozen
rough miners who sat about the blaze smoking
their pipes. 1t was uttered in the voice of one
who had been wors.ed in encounter with
fate and was indifferent as to the result.
With the proverbial hospitality of frontiers
men and miners we placed before the stranger
abundance of the rough but substantial
food, found in the camp kettles, and he ate
rayenously. When he had satisfied his hunger
IA pair of blankets was given him and rolling up
in them beneath the dropping branches of a
rightly pine our strange and taciturn visitor
soon fell asleep. WeTesumed our pipes and after
u brief discussion of our guest agreed that he
WAS a broken-dOwn prospector and that he was
welcome Then We creDt beneath our blanke is
and dreamed under the stars of fabulous veins
OF gold while our ears heard not the thunder
of the mountain torrents leaping down the
scanned and sacred sides of Del Norte peak to
Join the foaming current OF tine Rio Alamasa-
And that was how .'Old Blink came to our
camp. perehed like a speck between a rim of
pines ard the eternal snow. We knew not
whence he came. neither did We care. We had
the broken-down pilgrim in our care and would
shelter and feed him. In day or two he was
a fixture and little by little dropped his impen-
etrable reserve. During the day he would
wander along the mountain sides and up dec
gulches looking for indications of minerals.
He made himself useful in cooking our rude
meals. lie was conversant not only with geol-
Ogy and metallurgy, but knew every noun tain
plant and flower by name 1t was old Blink
vino. when one of the boys was stricken down
with mountain fever, sought out in the darkest
gulches the mountain sage and gave relief to
our comrade. He found bed of tender wild
onions and added them to our limited menu of
bacon and fapjacks- He staked claim. and,
while il was worthless. We would have defended
it for him against jumpers at the risk of our
lives. "Old Blink was our mascot. We
wouldn't have taken the richest lode on South
mountain for him, wretched as he had made
himself by life of wandering and dissipation.
And then one night he told to us the story of
his life. We didn't believe il then, but it had
served to while away a weary hour between
supper and blankets. and we forgave him. A
pack train from Del Norte had brought up to
camp fresh lot of supplies, including a keg Of
WHISKY. The latter article was the key which
unlocked odd Binks" lips. While talking his
eyes took on a far-away look, as IL they were
resting on green pastures, but his voice be-
came vibrant with manhood as he talked about
himself and Phil sheridan. Icould not attempt
10 give you the story in his own language be-
cause between me now and that summer night
episode high up on the slopes of the Sierras
San Juan nearly eighteen years have inter
vened-
OLD BINK's STORY.
His name, he said, was George Buckley and
he was born in northern OHIO, his family being
an influential and wealthy one. Phil sheridan
was his school;nate and although Pills mother
was very poor the two boys were inseparable
friends and companions They had grown up
together and their affection for each other was
as that Of David and Jonathan. Then one day
young BInckley's uncle, who was then in Con-
gress, secured Tor him appointment to the
West Point Military Academy. Wild with de-
hight lie rushed ACROSS the way to Mrs Sheri-
dan ; humble home TO tell l'hii the news. The
sturdy young Irish lad burst into tears.
Il m glad Of II, George" he at last found
voice 70 say But, oh. don't wish could go.
too I've always set my heart on being a
sOatier, but nOv-anQ the youthful Phil
again gave vent to has emotions. odd Blink
hurried over this part of his narrative He
talked o Phil Tor time and tried to comfort
him. with what elect tie sequel disclosed. He
asto2ished his parents and almost paralyzed
his uncle by declining she appointment He
Didn't wan. . be q soldier and Phil Sheridan
did. On this rock he stood immoyable The
world already knows part OF the result The
Irish lad, the ir:eEd OF George Buckley, went
10 IVES. Point His history Is part Of that Of
the nation The hero o: Winchester and half a
hundred Other bat;lehelds was made possible
by friend magnanimIty and STANDARDIZATION.
And binckley, what OF him! Oh, there WASH I
much 10 tell. be declared. lie had gone
through cole sc with hOuors. mad been admitted
u the bar, had tried journalism and had printed
several newspapers IN Iowa and Nebraska: had
drunk whisky and INDUCED in the use OF Opium
until worn out; he had quit fighting and was
now drifting with the tide toward sunset and
night and silence He had drifted with other
debris of wretched humanity into the noun
tains, and that was all He was still loyaI to
Phil Did Phil remember his old boyhood
friend and benefactOr? On, yes Gen Sheri-
dan. he said. had repeatedly offered to provide
Tor him, but lie was too far gone to 60 back
mat was all Phil was ali right and Old
bink was all right, and so what's the differ
eneeG Having delivered himself Of this
or1cular bit OF optimism. our mascot took
another drink Of whisky and fell asleep in his
blankets After deciding that "Old Blink" was
an entertaining liar The camp followed his ex
ample and retired to rest. When bantered