Waterbury evening Democrat. [volume] (Waterbury, Conn.) 1887-1895, 1891-05-18
a ROMANCE OF
LAS CHERITAS.

face.
He took the hands which hung Imply
at her side and in voice full of emo
ton said: Barb, little un, won't you
wish me joy in my new life?''
Barb wrestled a moment with her
bleeding heart, and then, oh, divine
spirit of woman, which suffers and
i gives no sign, which goes down into the
valley of the shadow with smile, she
looked up into his eyes bravely, and
said steadily:
"Good-by, dear Captain George, and
God bless you"
Something in Barb's gaze stirred
Georges heart with an unwonted thrill.
Tears dimmed his eyes, and he clasped
her close to his heart. kiss me, little
grill" he whispered. IL -. -,
| "Noi oh noi' she said in such tone
of anguish that he involuntarily loos-
ened his clasp, and with a sob, and an
incoherent excuse, she fed up the path
into the shadow of the tamaracls.
Late that night when the moon had
sunk behind the trees, which stood like
soldiers in battle array, with their
backs against the mountains, and faces
frowning down upon the haunts of men,
when Captain George, the few prepare
lions for his journey completed, slum-
bered upon his rude bed, and the sick
man, too, slept and dreamed of his
youthful home in the Scottish high
lands, Barb lay under the tamaracks
| where the shadows were blacklist, face
down upon the earth, wrestling with
that anguish which no soul can feel but
once, and which changes, when once
endured, the aspect of the world.
There is something sad and haunting
about deserted human habitation,
and when that dwelling place has been
home to us, 1t possesses for Us the same
pathetic meaning which brings the
tears to our eyes when we look at the
cold clay Of $dearly loved friend. In
parting from a spot which for months
or years has been a refuge from the
cares of the world, our home, we pic
ture It In solitude; the spring touching
with her vivifying breath the trees and
shrubs which have Swallowed US from
the heats of summer moons; the glory of
moonlight nights; the rush and roar Of
winter tempests, and nature seems by
her changelessness to mock the mrta-
tions Of human life.
just past, Capt. George had sometimes
thought of>himsef as a captive, and
yearned to break away from the prison
of mountain walls, and the life he led
there. But now in the hour Of parting
from the familiar scene, for some rea-
son, inexplicable to himself, his regret
far outweighed the Joy Of his anticipa-
tions of the future.
He fingered in his cabin, putting
everything in scrupulous order, and
then, at the last moment, happy
thought struck him. He would not sell
the cabin, as he had before intended; it
should remain as 1t was, and some day
he would bring Agnes here, and she
should see how and where a miner
lives. This idea made the wrench of
parting from the old life easier, and
when at last there was no further ex-
cuse for delay, he mounted his cayuse
and rode slowly down the mountain
side, after rolling down the paper
shade before the little window and
locking the door.
Las Cheritas was still wrapped in
slumber when he passed through the
town, for 1t was but little past dawn.
He paused beyond the camp upon the
crest of hill to watch the sun rise.
He saw the waste ruggedness and SOM
Der coloring of the hillsides glow and
become radiant, as the sovereign of
day began his triumphal march. Be-
low him there was world of gray
vapor, out of which the tops of the
nearer pines rose as mysterious as if
they had no root in solid ground, and
above him the snow-capped summit
wore a crown of opalescent glory. The
mists rose higher and uncovered the
now awakening town. Every sound of
life therein, blending with the low COM
planning of the stream, made a faint
and soft melody.
Still higher rose the curtain of vapor,
and at last breaking into heecy clouds
hoated above him, shutting out for an
instant the glistening summit, then
higher, until it melted in the azure sea
of the sky. He heard the far off cry of
some wild animal In the forest; above
the tops of the trees hawk 1azily cir
cled in the clear cir, and Capt. George,
after one long look backward, rode slow
ly down the trail.
In Las Cheritas the hustle of life be-
gan again. No man watched the beau
ty of the sunrise, for what is the wealth
of nature to those whose object and
aim in life is gold2 The labors of the
day and rest at night are filed with
visions of gold, the destroying demon
and the benefcent angel of. the human
race.
These men, perhaps, wrestled too
laboriously with primeval nature to
have any sympathy with her beauty.
However that may be, Las Cheritas sal
lied forth to its accustomed work, to
the shaft, the placer and the sluice,
neither missing the absent nor caring
for aught but self. ---- i
Barb came out of the shadows of the
forest In which she had spent that
never-to- be-forgotten night, pale but
calm; and, after leading the cayuse to
the stream that he might drink, teth-