The Austin weekly statesman. (Austin, Tex.) 1883-1898, 1894-07-19
MINING CAMP EXPERIENCES.

7 Once, long time ago, Mrs. ROBERT
Louis Stevenson lived out in a western
mining camp. That was before the
brilliant English essayist and novelist
/ saw her and fell desperately in love
with her, but even then she must have
| possessed some attractions for the
! stronger sex, since she was the recipi-
! ent of frequent presents. These gifts,
which were of simple but touching
| character, such as red apples and sage
| hens" were always made anonymous
| ly, and, try as she would, Mrs. Steven
son never succeeded in surprising one
of the donors in the act. Although the
white men in camp were thus gallant,
she received rather bad impression OF
the courtesy of the noble red man, as
may be guessed from the following in
cident which Mrs. Stevenson relates
with considerable enjoyment:
II had always been led to believe
that the Indians called their wives
'squaws,' that their conversation was
principally Ugh! ughr and that first,
last and all the time, they demanded
'frewater. Instead of this, the I'M
sophisticated savages with whom l
came in contact shuddered at the taste
of spirits, had fair command of En-
glish and called their wives 'mahalas
and themselves 'hombres.' My
cousin Ben, remarkably handsome
youth, whose few years came to an I'M
timely end in that forlorn country,
was always very good in helping me
with my household tasks, much to the
disgust of Shoshone Jim, an Indian
who often came to the cabin. He re-
garded with extreme disfavor the
spectacle of Ben washing dishes.
"Why you wash dish?'" he de-
manded.
"'Oh, the mahala makes me-" was
the careless reply.
"'You mahala?'" inquired Jim.
"Ben replied in the affirmative,
whereupon Jim rose, walked out of the
house and disappeared on trail lead
ing to the distant hills. Late in the
evening he returned, greatly fatigued
with his long tramp, carrying young
sapling carefully peeled and denuded
of its leaves and branches. Stick,
said he, offering it to Ben. You whip
you mahala; no good hombre wash
dish
ellis face clouded at Ben's refusal,
then frightened with hope as he said,
in a most insinuating voice, You like l
whip?'
my first last, and only dinner party
in camp was an occasion of much tribu-
lation. We had no vegetables, but, as
there were plenty of cattle, l made
roast beef the piece de resistance, while
of Calls brains, sweetbreads and
tongue l made a presentable vol au
vent. Vegetables there were none,
but made an imitation plum pudding,
which did very well.
'In the pride of my heart I refused
all help in my preparations for the
dinner party, only allowing Ben in the
kitchen after everything was well I'M
der way. As opened the door for him
to enter, hen that had long been my
bane fluttered in between his feet.
This hen belonged to gang of China
men, who were fattening her for their
coming New Years celebration. l had
several times found her in the house,
doing more or less damage, but was
afraid to complain to her owners.
She began Topping about in the
idiotic manner of hens, upsetting
dishes, and utterly refusing to go out
of the door we had set open for her
exit. Never was creature more eXas-
perating than that hen. Finally she
pumped into pan of dough had set
to rise. Ben let fly Ratchet he had
picked up from the hearth; it went
straight to the mark, and the hen was
decapitated. 1t was a good throw, but
the result filled us with CONSERVATION.
We closed the door, shot the bolt, drew
the curtains and sat down in council to
consider the question of what we should
do with the body of the hen A fowl
| in Reese River was an article of untold
value. Its price might ruin us. Ben
suggested installments.
aAnd become bond slaves to China
for the rest of our lives returned l.
| Besides we found that neither of us haC
the courage to confess the deed and say
| like USOTSO w IOli Illi ~ " III
nv little hatchet. Burning in. the
[ kitchen stove would not be safe, for the
odor of burnt feathers might betray us
| Time pressed and we had come to NJ
decision. Steps must be TAKEN criet
Ben, and catching up the fowl he but
toned it inside his coat, snatched VI
his hat, and disappeared. In shor
time he returned, unbuttoned his coat
and produced the fowl, plucked ant
ready for roasting.
Into the oven with it, said he.
had meant to shy it down that oil
shaft behind the house. but hadn't tn
heart to waste the good meat. 1t will
look we'll at your dinner party, an
guests do not ask questions.
"'But the feathers and the restP
asked, doubtfully. No danger re
turned Ben. 4 lay down behind bi
boulder and plucled it into my hant
kerchief; then put in a stone, tied IL
the handkerchief, and flung it to tn
bottom of the shaft. There's not S
much as a pin feather of evidenc
against us. After dinner I'll send tn
bones the same road
81 detected look of surprise in TIL