Pawtucket tribune. (Pawtucket, R.I.) 1890-189?, 1895-04-16

cnnc. nuuo minus Ernsp ana nunuio
roughly tho man Aho darcs To insult
woman on her wedding day. Pistols arc
drawn. There IL the muiiled report Of "A
shot at close quarters Tho voice Of Cas-
tolla IL heard abovethe noise Of the scuiIie.
Don't hurt him, boys. Please don't,
fer my sake! He's clear gone mad aud
don't know what he says"
The rough hands reluctantly loose their
hold Cheycnne's right arm hangs help
lcssly by his side. Blood drips from his
sleeve and forms n shining pool on the
floor. Cap Woods steps 10 the front
"Boys, 1t Shall be IN my gal sez Thar
amt goin to DO any scrimmage on this
particular occasion. That amt my style
OF cclcbratin weddins. Put this pugna-
cious cuss on t'other side Of the door and
percccd with the festivities. Out with
himl"
Three brawny miners do the ejccting.
Cheyenne curses, but does not resist. He
realizes that Inc now holds losing hand,
but muttcrs that "the game Is not out"
The door swiftly closes, and the disturbcr
of harmony finds himself lying In the
snow, bafiled and beaten, with one arm
perforated by bullet. He lies there and
listens. The violinist il once more endeav-
oring to make the old masters turn In
their graves. The sound Of boots shuflling
over the floor can DC heard The dance
goes merrily on. He wonders III Castclla
does not rcproach herself for her faithless-
ness AS II in answer, he hears silvery
laugh. How well he knows that laugh.
He can imagipe Castclla throwing back
her quccnly he'd and showing her pretty
teeth. He groans In his anguish. Then
the spirit Of the Indian, which has long
slept within him, awakens. With an effort
he rises TO his feet. His anguish turns TO
rage. He shakes the fist Of his good hand
| at the shanty.
"Laugh on, Castella Woods, /" he shouts,
"but beware of the Indian. You've let
| them turn Cheyenne from your door like
| homeless cur. / wuz half white then.
| I'm white man no more. Laugh now,
but ef you laughs tomorrow it won't be
| here"
The rising wind takes up hiswild words
| and carries them down the canyon. The
| mcrrymakcrs hear him not.
His hand drops to his side, and he stag
| gers forward toward the shanty where Joy
reigns supreme. He does not enter but
passes 1t with muttered curse. He will
not openly take his revenge Like the true
| Indian, he will strike in the dark. The
rain of yesterday has left the snow soft,
and he makes but poor headway, but he
| keeps on a course that would lead him
| around the mountain. The trail to Hecla
| canyon Is far to the south, but his face is
| turned to the north. He does not stop un-
| til he reaches DEVILS ridge He is weak
| from the loss OF blood and weary from ex-
| ertion, but his rest Is short. He arises
| from the.rock which has served as a rest
| ing place, and faint and stiff and sore as
he is starts directly up the ridge. His
destination is now apparent Cheyenne is
bound for the summit Of Eagle mountain.
The wind blowing across the rocky ridge
has kept it almost free from snow, and
| now 1t forms a clear way to the mountain
top. 1t is tedious climb. His arm Is
still bleeding but Cheyenne stops not to
bind 1t. His teeth are firmly set, and there
is determination In his eye. He must
live to accomplish his mission; then death
is welcome. Hour after hour he climbs,
his progress necessarily slow ON account
| Of his weakness. At last he reaches the
summit. Far below him lies Barton's
camp. One bright lit cabin betrays its To-
cality. Tho merrymaking must still be in
progress.
Cheyenne slowly gathers handful Of
snow and presses it into ball. Then nc
| stops. His face is not pleasant to look
upon. He kneels down and rolls the little
SNOWFALL to and fro, chuckling ominously
| 1t picks up the soft snow and grows in
| circumference When it is rs large as
mans head, he rises to his feet He holds
the ball of snow poised aloft. There is an
insane light in his eye. He looks down at
the brightly lit cabin and fairly screams in
his rage:
"Yer loves Jim best, does yeYp Yer
didn't think yer weddin dress would be
yer grave clothes. 1t costs hundred lives,
but no gal plays me false and lives"
The ball Of snow leaves his hand and
starts down the mountain side. As IL rolls
it grows as only SNOWFALL can rolling i'm
soft snow. Now it is as large as cart
wheel. A few moments and it Is as large
and wide as "a house. Rocks and earth are
following 1t. The noise it makes is music
to the man on the peak. He shouts and
dances with tho glee of maniac as he
hears the rumble and the roar growing
louder and louder. The SNOWFALL has
started ponder0ns mass, consisting of
tons and tons Of snow, which, rushing
along with resistIess force, tears up bowl
,ders and bushes and carries them along
in Its mad flight. AS long as he hears the
roar of the avalanche Cheyenne screams
and curses until he sinks exhausted to his
deathbed In the snow.
The great back Of the mountain lay bare
In the morning sun. Where Barton's camp
has stood there were . hundred fathoms OF
snow, and tho gulch was as silent as the
valley Of death 1t was as IL the mountain
were giant who had }et. his robe fall at
his fect.-Jack Taylor Waldorf in Boston
Herald.
Didn't Like Noncsmformists.
The Independent reports the following