Arizona republican., 1892-09-08
THE BLACK DOG.


 moss and haggard rocks beneath. Foui water soaked men made their difficult ways through the drenched forest. The little man stopped and shook an angry finger at where night was stealthily fol lowing them. "Cursed be fate and her children and her children's children We are eyerlastingly lostr' he cried The panting procession halted under some dripping, dropping .hemlocks and swore in wrathful astonishment.
 "It will rain for forty days and forty nights" said the pudgy man moaningly, "and feel like wet loaf of bread now. We shall never find our way out of this wilderness until am made into DOT ridge"
 In desperation they started again to drag their listless bodies through the watery bushes. After time, the clouds withdrew from above them and great winds came from concealment and went sweeping and swirling among the trees. Night also came very near and menaced the wanderers with darkness. The little man had determination in his legs. He scrambled among the thickets and made desperate attempts to find a path or road. As he climbed hillock he espied a small clearing upon which sat deso- lation and venerable house, wept over by wind waved pines.
 ''Ho," he cried, there's house."
 His companions struggled painfully after him as he fought the thickets be- tween him and the cabin. At their ap- proach the wind frenziedly opposed them and skirled madly in the trees. The little man boldly confronted the weird glances from the crannies of the cabin and rapped on the door. A score of timbers answered with groans, and within something fell to the floor with a clang.
 ''Ho." said the littlem man. He stepped back few paces.
 Somebody in distant part started and walked across the floor toward the door with an ominous step. A slate col ored man appeared. He was dressed in a ragged shirt and trousers, the latter stuffed into his boots. Large tears were falling from his eyes.
 "How d do, my friend?" said the little man affably.
 ''My ol uncle, Jim Crocker, he's sick ter death" replied the slate colored per son.
 "Ho!" said the little man. "Is that sop
 The latters clothing clung desperately to him and water sogged in his boots He stood patiently on one foot for a time.
 ''Can you put us up here until tomor- row?" he asked finally.
 "Yes," said the slate colored man.
 The party passed into little un- washed room, inhabited by stove, a stairway, a few precarious chairs and a misshapen table.
 'I'll fry yer some polk ard make yer some coffee," said the slate colored man to his guests.
 "Go ahead, old boy" cried the little man cheerfully from where he sat on the table smoking his pipe and dangling his legs.
 My ol uncle, Jim Crocker, he's sick ter death" said the slate colored man.
 "Think he'll diey asked the pudgy man gently.
 "NoI'
 "NoY'
 "He won't diei He's an ol man, but he won't die yitl The black dorg hain't been around yitl"
 "The black dog?" said the little man feebly. He struggled with himself for a moment.
 "What's the black dogy' he asked at last.
 He's sperrit," said the slate colored man in a voice of somber hue.
 "Oh. he is? Well?'
 He ha'nts these parts, he does. an when people are goin to die he comes and sets and howls."
 "Ho!" said the little man. He looked out of the window and saw night mak- ing million shadows.
 The little man moved his legs nerv. ously.
 ''I don't believe in these things" said he, addressing the slate colored man, who was scuffling with a side of pork.
 "Wot thingsY came incoherently from the combatant.
 ''Oh, these 'er' phantoms and ghosts and what not. All rot, l say"
 That's because you have merely a stomach and no soul" grunted the pudgy man.
 "Ho, old pudgkins!" replied the little man. His back curved with passion. A tempest of wrath was in the pudgy mans eye. The final epithet used by the little man was a carefully studied insult. always brought forth at crisis. They quarreled.
 "All right, pudgkins; bring on your phantom" cried the little man in con- clusion. His stout companions wrath was too huge for words. The little man smiled | He had staked his op- ponent's reputation.
 The visitors sat silent. The slate col | pred man moved about in a small per sonal atmosphere of gloom.
 Suddenly a strange cry came to their ears from somewhere. It was a low, trembling call which made the little man quake privately in his shoes. The 1 slate colored man bounded at. the stair !