The Bennington banner. [volume] (Bennington, Vt.) 1858-1894, 1892-06-10
A WHOLE MAN.

mlnlng-camp. Ii he wears MS nedr
upon his sleeve, let him steer clear of
the Mexican towns and their pretty SEN
oritas. If he would know any peace, let
him keep away from the cattle-range,
for the cowboys jests are as keen and
cutting as the spurs at their heels.
Frank Robbins was beginning to find
out some of these things. But if you
gave him a whole decade he would not
find them out.
What the boy wants is toughening,"
said Mart Selby.
Mart was big and tough, and he saw
no good reason why anybody but child
or a woman should be tender.
"He's young colt that wants Mex
lean bit showed into his mouth, and then
to be driven through the cactus"
At Lucin's ranch the boys joked and
irritated Robbins, but did not seem to
tougher him. They cared nothing for
whiskey that did not scratch as it went
down, and when he put water in his they
called him perfect lady and laughed
loudly.
stand their joshing," said Mart to
Robbins, land you'll get along better.
They'll always make it hot for a man
that don't josh back" .
"Oh, don't mind it, replied Rob
bins, badly OVERRIDING his efforts to look
unconcerned.
1t had been the same everywhere he
had been in the West. He was one of
those men who are never anything but
tenderfeet. He simply would not take
men as he found them, though they were
perfectly willing to take him so. And
the absurd ideas that had Judgement in
his head! Chief among these were that
he must have a friend-a chum-who
should be man after his heart. He had
been looking for such man for two
years. He picked him out occasionally,
but he never found him to suit. This
one was not truthful, that one was not
temperate, and the other was not nice in
his speech. There was something lack
ing in each one.
"What want is whole man." he
sighed 81 never could take up with
these half-made fellows. But it is not
so e;.sy. Even when l ltind man that
is temperate and intellectual he turns
out to be selfish. What would l not
give for a whole man for friend and
companion-a whole man."
He would not take up with Mart Sell
by, though Mart saw the ''young fellow"
sorely neededa friend and helper, par
ticulaTly one who would tougher him.
He kept on looking forh made. to-order
man, but he never seemed to hit upon
him. Few such men as he was looking
for are to be found within thousand
miles of Lucin's. In fact. at Lucin's you
would be at loss to discover a single
man who did not like to take observa-
ton of Old Ashbys cloth and paper
ceiling through the bottom of whiskey
fr1oeg oOI if vOI, hand unina I will
give you my word OF honor that it was
no cherub's.
One day the boys outdid all their
other little meannesses to Robbins by
getting him hopelessly drunk. OF course
it was no killing matter; but he had
never been drunk before; and he took it
very seriously and resolved to leaYe
camp next day.
Mart did not like this. His heart had
warmed toward the young fellow" and
he hated to see him leave the place. FL
nally he resolved to, go with him.
They agreed between them that they
would not go on the range again. They
would go prospecting for gold.
And thus it was they came to make
the journey over the desert toward Dead
Horse Gulch. Now, as everybody in
that country knows, the wealth of Dead
Horse Gulch is great, but it is very hard
to reach. Miners who have lived on the
awful heat of the alkali plain that lies
all around the buttes wherein the gulch
makes its cash have come back with full
belts, bnt none of them have gone sec
ond time.
In suggesting this journey, Mart Selby
had double object. First, he wanted
to tougher the ''young fellow" and
next he wanted to enrich them both.
Mart knew that Robbins had come out
West to make enough money to marry a
nice girl who lived IN Delaware, and he
knew too, that the young fellow had
found money-making very slow work.
From Lucin's to the great alkali plain
that lay before the buttes in which the
gold was hidden was long and toilsome
| Journey. But the real work only began
with the crossing of the alkali desert.
White and naked lay the dead land
before their aching eyes. The eye of
| heaven shown down with most unrelent-
| ing fierceness. No breath of air was
stirring, and the whole world was dumb
as death.
Mart had counted on the journey be-
ing hard one, but not so hard as this.
He had not dreamed the water would
| give out so soon, nor that the horses
would sink down and die as they did.
Still they staggered on, their forms
bent under their heavy burdens, stand
ing out sharp and raw above the white
earth, on which their clearly defined
shadows fell with inky blackness.
In that cloudless, mistless air, distance
seemed set at naught, for they travelled
on and on toward the buttes, and yet
they seemed to grow no nearer.
1t was toward evening they reached a
rocky islet in the sea of alkali, an d
there, after very bad meal of hard
tack, they fell asleep, Robbins dreaming
of clear, cold water, drawn from marble
fountains in crystal goblets. The young
man was the first to awake. The sun
was beginning to shoot out his fiery
needles over the mountain. Robbins
lifted, his hand to rub his eyes.
"R-r-z-z-zw
Then a tongue of fame darted toward
him and struck him on the palm of the
hand.
''My Cod" he groaned, 'it's rattle
snake and he's bitten mel"
His voice seemed to awaken a hundred
echoes, and to these responded hun
bred rattles.
Selby sat up on his blanket and stared
at him stupidity. AS he made the move
ment rattlesnake struck him in the
face, and another, at his side, would have
done the same had he not thrown him
-elf out of reach of his deadly fangs.
L. -,