Gloucester County Democrat. (Woodbury, N.J.) 1878-1932, 1892-02-04

bered the third figure in their group-a
woman, like Sibyl, growing calmer as
her peril grew, and succor seemed to
withdraw. And the pang Of this picture
crushed back into my heart any thoughts
but mad anxiety and frenzy to be
driving on.
We drank thankfully of this well by
the wayside. No gentle beauty here
abouts to enchant us to delay. Nogrand
old tree, the shelter and the landmark Of
the fountain, proclaiming an oasis near
Nothing but bare, hot sand But the
water was pure, cool and bright 1t had
come underground from the Sierra, and
still remembered its parent SHOWS. we
drank and were grateful, almost to the
point of pity. Had we been but avengers,
like Armstrong, my friend and | could
wellnigh have felt mercy here and turn
ed back pardOning. But rescue was more
imperative than vengeance Our busi-
ness tortured us, as with the fanged
scourge of Tisiphone, while we dallied.
We grudged these moments Of refresh
ment. Before night fell down the west,
and night was soon to be climbing up
the east, we must overtake-and then?
wiped the dust and spume away from
Fulano's nostrils and breatned him a mo-
inent. Then let him drain deep, de-
licious drafts from the stirrup cup. He
whinnied thanks and undying fealty
my noble comradeI He drank like
reveler When mounted again, he gave
a jubilant curvet and bound. NV weight
was a feather to him. All those leagues
Of our hard, hot gallop were nothing.
The brown Sierra here was close at
hand. Its glittering, icy SUBMITS, above
the dark and sheeny walls, far above the
black phalanxes Of clambering pines,
stopped forward and hung over us as we
rode.
We were now at the foot Of the range,
where it dipped suddenly down upon the
plain. The gap, our goal all day, opened
before us, grand and terrible. Some giant
force had clutched the mountains and
riyen them narrowly apart The wild
defle gaped and then wound away and
closed, lost between its mighty walls,
thousand feet high, and bearing two
brother pyramids of purple cliffs aloft
far above the snow line. a fearful portal
into a scene Of the throes and agonies Of
earthl and my excited eyes seemed to
read, gilded over its entrance, in the dead
gold of that hazy October sunshine, words
( from Dante's inscription:
Per me 81 va ira Ia perduta gente:
Lasciate ogni speranza vol. CHI entrate.
Here we are" said Brent, speaking
hardly above his breath "This is Ing
gernel alley, at last, thank God. In an
hour, if the horses hold ont, we shall be
at the springs, that is if we can go
+ through this breakneck gorge at the
same pace. My horse began to finch a
little before the water. Perhaps that will
set him up. How are yours
"FuIano asserts that he has not begun
to show himself yet. | may have to
! carry you en- croupe before weare done.
Armstrong said nothing, but pointed
Z impatiently down the defiIe. The gaunt
white horse moved on quicker at this
/ gesture. He seemed tireless machine,
not flesh and blood-a being like his
master living and acting by the force Of
a purpose alone.
Our CHIEF led the way into the canyon.
Terrible riding it was! A pavement
of slippery, sheeny rock; great beds of
loose stoness barricades Of mighty bowl
derS, where q cliff had fallen an con ago,
I before the days Of the roadmaker race;
crevices where an unwary foot might
catch; wide riffs where a shaky horse
might fall. OF timid horseman drag
4 him down.
( An arroyo, the channel of dry tor
rent, followed the pass. It had made its
way as water does, not straightway, but
by that potent feminine method Of pass
ing under the frowning front Of an OBJ
{ stacle, and leaving the dull rock staring
/ there, while the wild creature it would
have held is gliding away down the val
I ley. This zigzag channel baffied US; we
must leap it without check wherever it
crossed our path. Every second now
was worth a century. Here was the
sign OF horses, passed but now We
could mot choose ground We must take
our leaps on that cruel rock wherever
they offered.
Poor Pumps,
He had carried his master SO nobly
There were SO few miles to do. He had
chased so well. he merited to be in al
the death.
Brent lifted him at q leap across the
arroyo.
Poor Pumps.
His hind feet slipped on the time
smoothed rock He fell short. He
plunged down a dozen feet among the
rough powders of the torrent bed.
Brent was ont Of the saddle almost be-
fore he struck, raising him.
No, he would never rise again. Both
his forelegs were broken at the knee.
He rested there. kneelin@ on the rocks
where he fell.
Brent groaned The horse screamed
horribly, horribly-there is no more
Rgonized sound-and the scream went
echoing high up the cliffs where the red
sunlight rested
/ 1t costs a loving master much to
butcher his brave and trusty horse, the
half of his knightly self; but it costs
him more to hear him shrek in such
misery Brent drew his pistol to put
poor Pumps out Of pain.
Armstrong sprang down aud canght
his band.
s'Stopl' he said in his hoarse wh spar.
He had hardly spoken since We started
My nerves We're 50 strained that this
mere ghost of a sound rang through me
like death yell. a grisly cry of merci-
less and exultant vengeance. 4 seemed
/ to hear its echoes, rising up and swell.
ing in flood Of thick uproar, until they
burst over the summit of the pass and
We're wasted in the crannies Of The
towering mountain hanks above.
Stop whispered Armstrong. Nc
shootingl They'll hear. The knife!"
He held out his knife to my friend.
Brent hesitated one heart beat. Could
he stain his hand with his faithful serv-
ants blood?
Pumps screamed again.
Armstrong snatched the knife and
drew it across the throat Of the crippled
horse.
Poor Pumpsl He sank and died with
out moan. Noble martyr in the old,
heroic cause.
Icaught the knife from Armstrong.
cut the thong Of my girth. The heavy
/ California saddle. with its Inacheers and