Iron County register., 1891-06-04

dS "aS
anyhow. 1 reckon, that spirit has
been laid this many day"
1T may have been. And many a
year, too, for it began to walk in go,
as l mind. But, l call it infidelism, 1
do. to go setting your own little bit of
mind against what we know to be true"
This colloquy somewhat excited my
interest. l asked if there was an Ok
eye canyon ghost, or anything of the
kind.
There was" said the old fellow:
and then he looked amongst his mates,
as If hesitant to say more. | did not
press him; for l had seen enough of
him to know that if he meant to tell
the tale he would soon tell it without
urging; and if he preferred not to tell
it. no coaxing could make him tell it.
Well, two days afterwards, | was off
among the mountains after wild goats.
a Barkerville man and the priests
Indian servant were with me. the latter
more especially for the sake of follow
ing bear, if we We're so lucky as to hit
fresh trail. 1t was a lovely day-the
sky blue and cloudless; and the air,
they said. wonderfully mild for Barker
vile. 1t was like brilliant Septem ber
day in old England; something very
hard to beat. And so we were in
excellent spirits, and clambered about
among the pines and quartz rocks in
very high spirits, and l, for one, de-
termined not to mind very much if we
got neither goat nor deer nor bear. AS
luck would have it, we sighted only
two or three goats, and these two or
! three made off too fast for my gun. By
| lunch time we were very hungry, not
little tired. and considerably knocked
about by the sharp rock edges. We had
wandered good many miles.
I'VE are so near Ox-eye canyon, that
if you can hold on another hour. I'd
like you to see it. said the Barkerville
man when | mentioned the luncheon
| basket.
by all MEANS" I replied. But l
thought it was nearer the town"
''Oh, no; or else, l reckon. Barker
| vile 'ud go into pretty rapid sort of
decline. You remember the Ox-eye
spirit, don't you?" Ito the Indian1.
The guide shook his head.
''Ah, we'll, if you don't, you ought.
Fellows who do, describe it as voice
-mournful and sweet, you know, fill
ing the canyon like an 4Eolian harp.
For my part, l don't know what to
think. I'm bit spoiled in the spirit
| way, because l never saw one, to talk
| to-"
We crossed a bold arete of white rock
with not a single tree upon it, but with
| jagged peaks, snow-tipped, upon either
| side of the pass. Then we descended
by most dreadful slope of powders,
at as sharp an angle as a man may
Chamber down whole of limb. When
we had got about half way towards the
| broadish valley bottom beneath us,
there appeared a dark rift in the noun
tain close under us to the left. At first,
thought it natural tunnel. Later, l
saw that it was not hole, but a ravine,
very narrow, with the cliff sides form
| ing wall not less than thousand feet
high upon either hand. The odd thing
was that though at the mouth of the
canyon the width between the walls
was narrow enough, it was narrower
still at the summit. There, indeed, it
| looked as if a man could have leaped
across the frightful chasm.
That's OX-eye canyon" said my
Barlzerville friend "A nice gloomy
sort of place, amt it? However, We'll
| feed Just outside in the sun; and after
wards, if you like, we can have a look
| at it
Our meal was soon made. We got
through it the quicker because the In
dian left US on sudden, with shout
warning us not to follow HIM. He had
some notion of catching game in his
| own way. The Barkerville man lit his
pipe and stretched himself against
| bowlder.
There's nothing in that canyon to
see, after ALL" he said, nothing worth
the trouble. anyway"
"Well," said |, If you don't mind
| being left alone for few minutes, l
would like to have a look a. it, since
we have come so far"
do So said he, well pleased to es-
cape the task of cicerone. But mind
the shafts-they're bad sort of places"
| 1t was by no means an easy piece Of
| work, this Chamber of mine into the
pass. Road of course there was none.
There was slip of river in the bed
| of the canyon, with rubble of rocks
in it. And this stream was the high
way-until l had gone about quarter
of mile. Then, however, the ravine
widened, and the walls on either side
changed to rough slopes, with rocks in
| plenty about them, and here and there
the wreck of pine, which had lived n
little while, and then died-probably
because it wanted Elore sunlight and
air than it was likely to get.
Something made me scramble up one
of the slopes away from the water.
| The rocks stood on end Eere more Ike
| those of the Druids at Stonehenge,
| than as if they had merely rolled from
the overhanging cliffs at one time or
another. Here | first discovered what
my companion had meant by warning
me against the shafts" as he called
them. Really, they were certain fis-
sures in the ground, as if the heat of a
phenomenal summer had parched the
| soil until it was fain to crack and cape
| with thirst all but slipped into one
particularly big bowlder.
This lasted for about half an hour,
until l assured myself that could see
! to the other end of the canyon. 1t was
certainly a forbidding place. and the
night chills already seemed to have en-
tered it.
| turned to retrace my steps. But
almost Immediately l found myself on
the edge of one of these fiSsures, in
which | could see CLEAN of something
white. 1t was a cleft perhaps twenty
feet in depth, with sides absolutely
perpendicular looked again, and