The daily morning Astorian. [volume] (Astoria, Oregon) 1883-1899, 1893-05-27
Struck a
False Lead.

Written for the Astorian
Far in the bosom Of the Sierra Ne
vadas is a busy mining camp in Dead
Mans Gulch, so called from the fact
that number of prospectors early in
the seventies where the present camp
was located found little hut built of
bark and mud. The hut contained q
rude fire place and bed of pine
boughs. Half sitting on the latter was
the body of white man. One hand
rested caressingly upon the pan on
which his eyes seemed to gaze as II in
search of the glittering sands. The
rest of his "ldt'' lay scattered about
the room. Nothing to show the mans
history they found. No clew to his
identity; only a faded white rose bio
som. Alone he bad crossed the Great
Divide which separates us from the un-
known. Alone, while the rain fell in
cheerless pattering, the owl hooted
from the dismal pines, and the death
watch throbbed on the wall
Unknown, unmourned, no partner
to cheer him or carry his dying mess
age to his friends, he lay with the
clammy death chill upon his brow, in
his wild delirlum muttering, II struck
a false lead" Then, after a pause,
''Where is my pan? Hal old friend,
you are the only thing that made me
forget. Forget !" And the word echo
| ing through the halls of memory,
flashed back the panorama of his life
in all its vividness, as it appears to
| dying men. =
It is a bright June day. Two lovers
sit beside a babbling brook. the air
redolent with the odor of wild flowers.
"You will always love me-" he had
said. Then sealed her answer with
kiss. He could pity Dick then. Dick
was his only rival. Yes, he saw 1t all
now
Then the scene passed on. 1t was
war time. Whom would they draft.
The lot fell to Dick, who had Wild
owed mother dependent on him for sup
port. He had no feeling for Dick, other
than pity. He would volunteer.
Another scene beside the brook. 1t
was n farewell meeting, | will soon re-
turn BESSIE, from the war" he said,
in answer to her passionate entreaty.
1t was a battle now. He felt
strange fear as the bullets whistled by,
and his comrades fell one by one.
Then he thought Of the little maid in
the far New England town. and he
grasped his rifle tighter
The battle was OVER. The smoke
cleared away and he heard an officer
ask his name. Private" he said.
Corporal" said the officer and
passed on
Long marches, and bloody battles
followed. He was sergeant now. Then
came the great assault on the occasion
Of which he was one of the first over
tle breastworlSs He remembered the
wild yells OF victory, the groans Of the
wounded and then he felt siclening
burning pain In his chest and knew no
more.
The next scene was in the hospital,
where he lay among a lot of cots. A
man approached, surrounded by NUM-
Der Of officers His was strange
strong face, known to all; 1t was the
President. ''Heie is your brevet as
captain he said, approaching the cot
OF the wounded man.
A few weeks passed on and he
was once more in the streets Of his ma
tive town, hurrying as fast as possible
to meet his promised bride. There was
a commotion around the church, where
a marriage had been solemnized. The
bride was coming out, leaning upon the
arm of the bridegroom, Dick. The sol
dier saw her, and bending forward he
tried to get a good look. She saw rim.
Then, smiling playfully, she plucked
rose from her bouquet and threw 1t
TO him. He stopped and picked 1t up.
II was the only remnant OF his lost
love. Then the strong man bowed his
head. A feversh anxiety to leave
seized him and he dragged himself
away.
Now far in the mountain fastness ne
was dying, the fever having laid him
low. Once more addressing his pan"
he murmured, "I struck false lead,
but you were the only thing that made
me forget"
And now the darkness seemed to
deepen like curtain hiding the drama
Of his life. an inartIculate effort to
murmur name and the unknown
stranger had passed over the range.
w. c. BELT NJ. D.