The diamond drill. (Crystal Falls, Iron County, Mich.) 1887-1996, 1897-08-21

eNerlasun' stoppn ana startln thal /
wears a man plum out.
Every time you start the horses
and mules have 10 scratch gravel 10 git |
the wagons moyin' and the dust comes
up pretty thick and nigh smothers you.
Why, I've seen teamsters on the road
that didn't look any more like human
bein's than as IL they was made alto
gether of yaller dirt. Even their eyes
seemed 10 have n coat OF dust on 'em;
and as for their throats-well, these
here transfers generally try to keep
up some sort of communication with
their internal arrangements by means
OF a bottle.
ut might have been this permiscus
whisky drinlSin' that knocked old Potts
off his nut instead OF the hard team
STERN, but l can't say. But, anyway
Potts went sort o. daft, and finally left
the road and TUX up with the Injuns.
Before he went crazy, and before he
left teamin'. Potts was the genialest
kind OF feller. Everybody liked him.
He wasn't educated much, but he was
good-natured and jolly and always had
a good word for folks, an he liked chill
dren.
Clark, of the Oregon house, paused IN
his talk and pulled away In silence for
few minutes.
The man at the plum box, having sat
isfed himself, wiped his mouth on his
sleeve C'When in Rome, etc, y and now
sat gazing up the river. twas not an
uninteresting view. From narrow
gorge in the high brown hills, the river
suddenly appeared, a stream of dull
yellow that threw itself tempestuously
from the big, wlter-worn rocks, and
then with q smooth, graceful curve,
/ flowed downward toward the point on
which the blncksmith's shop stood.
Here, as IL turned to take another direc-
ton, il fretted, and fumed, and growlcd,
and muttered once more, until finding
a straight course again, IL journeyed
peacefully To Climmin's point, where it
made another angry turn.
As one looks up the river one notices
q red "cut" that leads, with the natural
wind OF the hills from the river bed 70
points far up on the mountains, on
either side Of the river. That is the road
that goes from Browns valley TO French
Corral, and where il crosses the Iuba
Is known as Bce's crossing. 1t is sim
ply ford, and in certain seasons an
impossible one.
As the man at the plum box looked up
the canyon he could see the Chinese
miners at work just below the cable.
The sun was bright, and now and then
their wet shoyels, as they turned them
in air, flashed like disks OF silver. The
j yellow Yuba roared and Numbered in
its uneven course where they were
working. and the canyon was full OF the
vibrant sound OF its ceaseless conflict
with the huge powders that lined lis
way; and yet, now and then, as the wind
blew down the river, the sharp, nnsaI
tones OF the Chinamen's voices could he
distinctly heard The man at the plum
box got to marveling at the clearnes'
with which things could be distin
guished over the dun, never failing
! thunder OF the great river that sweep
along below him, and all but forgo
/ Potts entirely. Even Clark seemed tC
find something foreign TO think Of, an'
smoked and gazed in silence.
A mountain quail, across the canyon
! whistled melodiously, and its SOFT bu
. impellant notes. seemed almost 10 echo
! just below the shop, about quarter o
a mile down the river, two sons Of tn
"a Flowery Kingdom were running
! rocker, and he could distinguish tn
q harsh kaash kaash! kaash. kaash! o
/, the gravel as IL grated back and fortl
| 1,
! stones rattle as they were thrown out
!, Heeyen fancied he could hear the swee-e
/, of the water as IL was poured upon tn
| gravel from the old oyster can tina
, served the Chinaman as a dipper-bu
!. OF course he was mistaken in that.
: As he was listening to these noises,
: sound came TO his ears from farthe
down the river IL was a long cry,
i, qunvering, fainting call that beat bac
!. and forth from point TO point, an
finally passed him by, seemingly like
!. broken-winged spirit dying painful
up the great canyon to die away in th
I. dull thunder Of the sweeping waters.
Clark moved as about 10 rise, an
! took his pipe from his mouth. Bot
!, listened.
Z The river Numbered, the quail acro'
! the canyon whistled, the Chinamc
), clinked their picks and talked nasal
far up the gorge. But the cry they ha
:. heard was not repeated, and Clark fina
: liz stretched himself out again and r
. turned to his leisured smoking an
I talking. His only comment was:
= I, guess them Injuns must be drunk
lie blew the smoke from his thin lii
y and sprayed u out through his sand
~ dropping mustache. Then he conti
n, ued:
!. "Mabbe Scar-Fnced Dick has been
! town, or old Potts has seen a fresh bate
I. OF his airships by the way, was teI
~ in YOU about Potts, wasn't /?
I. "Wen. after Potts began to &
/, looney, he got TO avodin' meetin' poop
= ,,d toIlsins Ia 'cm aud finally he can