The San Francisco call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1895-1913, 1895-10-21

miles out of Covelo, was to have been a
witness in suit against one Perry, Who
runs the White saloon in CoveIo, for sell
ing liquor to Indians. Selling liquor to
Indians is a United States offense and
there is danger of conviction in such cases,
though that fear does not in the least
check the traffic in Covelo. Other methods
are adopted. Williams knew some other
things, however; he was disposed to be a
decent fellow and was altogether obiec-
iectionable. One night about two months
ago Jim Williams was sitting with his wife
in his cottage. The lamps were lit, the
children had been put to bed Jim had lit
his pipe, and there was a cry outside
some one called his name. He laid down
his pipe and went out. His wife heard
some one speak from a little distance, as
though calling him to come nearer A
moment later two shots were fired, followed
by the quick tramp of horses feet that
rapidly became indistinct and died away
She went to the door and called:
"Jim!"
Turned from the bright lamplight into
the night her eyes could distinguish moth
ing. With her hands stretched out before
her she went cropping down the garden
calling: Jim! Jim!"
Her foot touched his dead body lying in
the path. She stopped, turned it over and
felt his face, covered with warm blood.
There is later murder, and so that is an
old story in Round Valley. This widow is
struggling alone now for her children and
jim is buried. To be sure, there was some
inquiry about the matter. 1t was dis
covered that the deadly leaden balls were
from 1856, and it is known that there
are only two weapons of that size in the
valley. 1t was noticed by the tracks that
the horses that stood by the fence that
night were unshod, and these tracks
were followed to the house of one of the
two men who owned a 1856. 1t is known,
also, that this man had his horse shod the
morning following this crime. But that
is all. With these facts discovered pro-
ceedings ceased. Jim Williams is buried
he did not testify; but his wife beats her
breast and weeps alone under the lamp
light these autumn evenings.
Impossible to believe men would murder
on such slight provocation? You do not
know the conditions IN Round Valley.
Secure against the consequences of doing
murder, murder may become fascinating.
The names of some men in Round Valley
with whom it is SO could be printed here.
Think OF two men standing on the mount
ain trail for hours whiting sticks while
they wait for the Constable to bring Jack
Littlefield along-his weapons safely in
the Constable's charge. And when he
comes, think of one of these men, hidden
among the bushes, lifting a rifle, looking
along It's barrel and driving a ball through
the defenseless mans breast. That is muir
der born of desire-the pleasure the MUIR
derer feels In doing murder-the crack of
the rife, the start, the shudder, the clutch
OF the breast, the fall, the gush of blood,
the glazing eye of the victim, the sense of
triumph, the satisfied enmity. This man
who was hated and feared lies dead here
he will never tell. The birds, the silent
forest, the still air-they will say no word.
The murderer is alone, or if not his com
panions are equally guilty. They may say
what they will in the presence of their VIC
tim; they may pull his beard or lift his lids
and laugh In his dead eyes; take the once
feared hand in their own and swear de-
tiance and spit upon the face
Where the fear OF tie law is absent, as it