Rock Island daily Argus. (Rock Island, Ill.) 1886-1893, 1892-07-07
is the point the council will decide. Listen!
The leader of the party is speaking:

! is the point the council will decide Listen!
The leader of the party is speaking;
"All in favor of shooting hold up the
/ right hand! Six hands up. All in favor
of hanging hold up the same hand! Six
hands up. It's a tie. l vote agin both.
Take him up that ravine!'
| The White Hills are right here to the
! left, and the mouth of dark and rugged
! gulch is only fifty rods away. Four stall
wart men pick the prisoner up and carry
! him along. The leader goes to one of the
wagons and secures chains and tools and
; follows on. The prisoner struggles and
curses and reviles as he is carried along,
/ but no man replies to him. They have
not advanced forty feet into the gulch he
fore they are in twilight. Lanterns are
! lighted and they move along for a hundred
feet more Neither sunshine nor the light
of day has touched this spot since the crea
ton of the continent. 1t has been mid
night here for thousands of years. 1t is
doubtful if eyes other than those of ser
penis and fierce wild beasts have ever
rested upon these wet and Shiny rocks.
Halt! Here is the spot!'
The men group about the prisoner, who
has suddenly been awed to silence and the
leader passes a stout chain around the
mans body, and uses bowlder for an an
vii as he rivets it. Then with coldchiscl
| and hammer he works a hole into Il rock
projecting from the side, and at the end Of
half an hour his task is finished. The
growI of the grizzly as he made his way up
and down and the hiss of the serpent when
disturbed by the fall of a stone have been
heard down here in this awful darkness
but never before the blows of Il hammer or
; the whisper of human voices.
For Gods sake take me out and shoot
or hang mer'
So cries the prisoner as the men gather
below him and are ready to go Noauswrr
They hold up the lanterns to see that he is
safely fastened and then turn their backs
on him and disappear.
Have mercy on me! Come back and
shoot me hereri
They hear his voice and the clanking OF
his chains, but no one turns his head-no
one pleads for him. They emerge into the
sunshine, hitch up their horses, take their
places as on the day before and in twenty
minutes the rear wagon is out of sight.
Up the gulch the man stands listening.
He is hoping that some one will return.
There are women and children with the
train; they will surely plead for him. The
whinny of a horse and the shout of driver
comes family to his ears through that
pitch black darkness, but only once Then
all is quiet. An hour ago his eyes were
blazing with fury and his speech was loud
and vindictive His eyes look terror now,
and his lips are so dry that not a whisper
could pass over them.
All! Is some one returning-some one
who has voted that he must die, but who
Will place the muZZle of a revolver to his
breast and kill him out of pity? There are
soft footsteps-some one is surely coming!
No! IT'S the drip! drip! drip! of the water
as it falls off the shelf above and strikes
on the rocky bed of the gulch. He groans
and curses and cries out. The rock behind
him is damp. He turns and licks it to
cool his parched tongue and fevered lips.
One at the mouth of the gulch could hear
him pant as he tugs at his chain-as he
tries it link by link-as he sways to the
right and left and puts forth the strength
of an OK. The cry of DESPAIR he utters
when he realizes his utter helplessness
reaches the treetops far above as they
bathed in the bright sunshine and he
sinks down exhausted and unconscious.
Night has come. Now and then there is
a horrible clanking of chains; now and
then the sound of a human voice talking
and laughing. But for that ceaseless drip
of water the solitude would he that of the
grave. But for the fiery orbs of that wild
beast creeping down the gulch to investi-
gate the strange sounds heard at intervals.
the darkness would be that of the first day
of creation. Listen:
Il got away from them in the darkness
and they can't find the traiI-ha! ha. hal
They had money and was bound to have
it. Did the fools think l was going to dig
and delve for gold in the earth, I'd have
wiped out the whole lot if | hadn't lost my
bottle of poison-every last one of 'em.
It's all right, though-ha! ha! han'
Raying? Yes. The solitude and the
darkness and the thought Of tomorrow and
the next day and the next have driven him
to insanity. He will live on for several
days yet, but God has been more merciful
than man. Those who doomed him may
never return, but hunters and prospectors
and Indians viii stand here and cry out in
horror at the sight of a dead body sup
ported by rusting chain. No man will
utter prayer over it-no man give it
burial. They will go away to speak of
skeleton Gulch" and to SILVER about their
camp fires as they recall its awful black
ness and solitude. NJ QUAD.