The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1894-05-18

quickly as it came. leaving the adobe al
most as stout as ever, though there was a
line which showed how far the water had
arisen and honeycomb bed the mud
The freshet also left great quantities OF
drltt-wood piled high on the hillside, and
in the next July, when no rain had fallen
Tor months, II caught fire and the flames
swept hercely up and down the canon
The big live oak, with its thick green
foliage, was the only thing that saved the
little house from destruction, and its
branches on the further side were all
blackened and burned by the blaze.
The old Indian woman pointed out the
traces Of these catastrophes as she spoke,
and then she suddenly turned to watch
three little dark browed children that
were chasing one another along the hills
crest, their chubby bodies silhouetted
against the blue sky beyond.
"Mine-all NINE" she said proudly
SANS and mine. l have had seven chill
dren. four grown three little See2" and
she pointed her wrnkled finger at the
youngsters, now rolling gleefully down
the hillside.
"Trantulas, chil'ren!" she screamed.
''I'rantulas like the warm earth on the
sunny hills, and come out and sting
sometimes, little chil'ren dead. - she ex-
planned, and then she started sewing
again, leaving the youngsters and the Ia
"How-how old are youp' the visitor
ventured.
The old woman dug thoughtfully into
the dirt with one of her brown toes.
Then she drew it back hastily beneath
her skirt and looked over at the noun
tains. Maybe forty-nine," she said with
sudden smile.
"Oh, no, not so much as that"
She thought again for long time
Watching "a 80 crla mir in ; la
light. We'll, maybe thirty-nine, then,
and she smiled contentedly.
The ocean breeze blew up the canon
bringing with it the faint roar of the
breakers. Occasionally one could hear
the crack of a rife, at which the old
Indian woman never failed TO glance up
quickly. Her sewing was almost done
when Sam Carson, her husband, walked
out of the thickets up the canon and
stalked lazily across the field, gun in
hand and small yellow dog at his heels
The wife arose quickly and Sam sat down
on the smooth stump. He was as brown
as his Indian wife, his hair was gray aud
his beard was grizzled He spoke in a low
toned, deliberate fashion, as most people
do who live long aunder a semi-tropic
sun.
"Do you see that little curln he said
THAT darned little dog has just killed a
wildcat, and the son of the old scout
wiped his brow ana prepared 10 tell the
rest of his story, He had a reputation
for thrilling and impossible tales.
ME and Baldy-I named him after the
the old mountain over there-me and
Badly, we was aslyin' through the under
brush. | thought I'd shoot some gophecs
just for luck Well, sir, | was standin'
in front of big live-oak, way up the
canon there where it gets narrer
all Of a suddin ! heard q whirrin' noise in
the air. / looked up, and bless me If there
wasn't big wildcat flying right down on
me. | gave one jump, but expected the
cat would have me the next lick-oh, she
was big 'un, Pm tellin you.
But Badly was there He just sailed
into that cat. My, how Badly did shake
her" and Sam caressingly SHE'D a lump
of dirt at the dininutive ours nose. 1t
would have been objectionable insult TO
suggest that any wildcat would have
made two mouthfuls of little Badly.
Did Badly kill HERO
LAS dead as a snail" said Sam.
"Well, where is the skin of the cat,
anywayl' | asked
Badly chewed him all up" said Sam
thoughtfully; "chewed him all up
''Twasn't worth brinin' home" and hand
ing his rife TO his wife to carry, Sam
walked slowly back among the onion
sprouts and disappeared with her in the
little cabin under the big oak