Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1897-03-13

81 told him no, that she treated me
like the sand under her feet-never
noticed me at all. Father walked up
aud down the porch as if driven by the
wind, but halting u,ldenly in front OF
me he said:
"'You would better 60 away. How
would you like trip to the gold mines
among the Rockies? The mountains
might put you straight. Suppose now
you 60. l am sure your mother could
get your things together by Thurs
day
"The idea pleased me, pleased me
no little, and when Thursday came l
was on my way to the Rocky Noun.
tains. I pretty soon fell in with a
party of young bloods like myself, and
for a while 1 did not bother much
about my attractive enemy-not much.
All the time. though, I was travelling
just rs directly as 1 could toward al
event that would bring her vividly be-
fore my mind, and would show me in
white light truth I was then look
ing at through very foggy atmosphere
very foggy.
"Perhaps it was two months after
left home became separated from my
party during hunt and was lost. II
was an unhappy experience, young
man. I hallooed until I was hoarse,
climbed tree and tied q handkerchief
to it's highest limb, and did all the
other things that lost people do, you
know. At last, striking aimlessly down
ravine, found myself at sunset
emerging into an almost circular de-
preston among mountain peaks. And
right at me was wigwam. 1t startled
me so that jumped behind tree.
The next moment some one called to
me, told me to come on; that I would
meet friends. An Indian boy advanced
toward me, and in the wigwam l found
sick Indian. Both spoke English,
and was glad OF the good supper the
lad gave me. None Of us cared to talk
much, and was soon fast asleep, worn
out.
81 suppose it was long toward mid
night when I awoke, feeling some
thing punch me in the ribs. 1t was
the sick Indians bony hand. Enough
light from the fire without came
through the crevices to make the in
terror OF tho wigwam dimly discerni-
BILE.
"'what is it," I asked. Shall I
call the boy?"
"'No, beg he answered. Give
me water. believe I am dying
81 gave him the water promptly
enough, meaning to call the boy just
as promptIy-just as promptly. But
while was putting down the tin cup
he uttered words that were paralyzing
in their effect on me. I sank down
on my blanket and clasped my hands
alound my knees, and gazed as best
could at the poor fellow.
"I am not an Indian; am white,
he said. MY name is Garland Grant.
land, and because I killed by acci.
dent the man loved best in oil
the world, I was forced from home to
live an outlaws life. Under my head
is tin box; I trust its contents to
you
"He began gasping painfully then,
and tried to raise him, though I was
trembling violently.
Promise to help tho Indian bury
me; and to bury me deep. he said.
I" I promised him that he should be
buried as nenrly as possible like the
people back at home were buried, and
that the box should be my care.
There we're a few struggles, poor fel.
low, and he died while trying to thank
me. Then I sat there and thought
about him until my heart throbbed
itself tender. 1t seemed to me I had
travelled all those miles from home
just for this Life is strange mix.
ture, young man, strange mixture.
1 don't know what your faith is, but
mine is an over.rullng Providence.
My meditations during that night de.
stroyed my enmity toward the Grant.
lands.
"Iburied Garland two days later, OF
sundown. And buried him in q
coffin. Yes, it was rude affair; the
boy and I made it from the seasoned
trunks OF trees long since fallen. The
wood was not difficult to split with the
tools they had concealed among the
rocks. The lad was greatly impressed
by my care of the body OF half
breed, as he thought his one.time friend
was, and it won his devotion-won his
devotion.
"He finally guided me to a camp ol
miners, and he would have followed
me home had I allowed it. I was so
fortunate at the camp as to hear of my
party who were searching for me, and
to communicate with them, letting
them know my Intention to return
home. First. though, I had secret
commission to fulfil,
"In the dead mans tin box I had
found letter addressed to his mother.
and note addressed, TO the friend
who receives this box Both had evi-
IDENTIFY been written during his illness,
and the contents of my note made my
young. hot blood tingle in my veins.
1t contained minute directions as to
how to reach a certain place, and to
find a certain crevice between two
gigantic rocks, a crevice not extending
straight down, but almost at once curv.
ing westward. With a stout, sharp
hook attached to pliable rod, I was
to drag this crevice and fish out five
skin bags containing gold dust and
nuggets. l was to have my choice OF
the treasure bags, and the others were
to be forwarded to Mr.. Grantland.
"Of course I knew that no matter
how the hate had vanished out OF my
own heart, it burned just as fiercely as
ever in the hearts Of all at home. I
meant to do all that Garland had re-
quested. but I meant to do it secretly
do it secretly, you know. Then I
meant to go homo and live as usual.
I was not SO wise then as now. It is
true that found the treasure crevice,
fshed out the five bags, kept one for
myself and sent the others to Mr..
Grantland, Mrs. Grantland's letter
,;,nod 70 ono of them had ren