The Scranton tribune. [volume] (Scranton, Pa.) 1891-1910, 1897-10-16

revolver in his pocket. There was one
bullet left, he knew, and IL escape were
hopeless, then
At lastl The rocks were near. The
man began scrambling painfully up a
steep incline of loose earth and round
ed stonss which resembled moraine,
and that gave no hold to his desperate
grasp. Looking up, he saw with hope
less eyes that there had been a slight
landslip lately, which had left the bank
projecting overhead, so that he could
not reach the top; looking down. that
the lamparagua was slowly but stead
lily approaching once more over the
grass, foot-root following foot-root.
There was a torn piece of crimson
blanket hanging on one bough.
lie must struggle across the face of
this troacherous slide to where a clump
of yuccas were smoldering, their stems
blackened as one often sses them,
whether from spontaneous combustion
or sun-fired in some ineXplicable man
uer, no man knows.
Fire! The smoking plants suggested
thought to the man. He sayed still,
holding on halfway up the scree. He
felt for his matchbox; there were two
matches left.
Then Ramsay, instead of longer seek
ing escape upwards, flung himself In
still more desperate eagerness down
the steep slope again toward his enc
my. He was at bay.
Where the grass began, the man
stopped and stopped, plucking dry
blades and twigs with the haste of one
who has but a few moments to live
should this plan fail of success. Not
drop OF rain had fallen since last Oc-
tober; the scorching summer heat had
burnt the grass to tinder There came
the squirt of a match
Two moments: five!
The fre-spark, ,kindling. seemed about
to spread, when a roaring wind-gust
through the valleys stiffness blew 1t
out, and the man felt himself sucked
irresistibly toward a clump of prickly
pear, to which he clung palpitating,
with his face pressed against the
thorny broad discs that tore the skin
to bleeding. Ah!-that was over!
For the last time one chance was left
-one match! Again Ramsay snatched
what dry fuel lay within his grasp, as
he sheltered beneath the bushes. His
papers, cheque book, all were in a
small valise he had instinctively thrust
over night under his saddle pillow.
lNtTe w az one ltlltl III III iilo ~ NpSN
pocket which he had carried there two
years-the last one ever written by his
mother He tore 1t out.
With shaking fingers, and blinded by
blood drops he dared not wait to wipe
from his eyes-knowing the while that
the lamparagua was stalking a yard
nearer at each motion-its victim care
fully struck the match. Sheltering the
tiny flame with one hand, he turned
the wax stem gently till 1t lit. Next
the letter: and the fire licked the
words, MY Daarest Son." then blazed
and cracked in the funeral pyre of
broken bramble and dried myrtle leaves
that burnt a dead women's last token
of love to her youngest born. Gladly
would she have known it sacrificed on
the slight chance to save his life. Ram
say thrust both hands deep into the
burning mass, and recovering strength
in the excitement of hope, he staggered
| toward sCme clumps of tall grass of
the pampas a few feet away. The
sparks fell, making trail as he went
| that caught the dry herbaga. Hurrah!
| How the giant grass stems took fire,
| blazing high in a glorious bonfire!
A hasty glance over his shoulder.
| The lamparagua was not twelve yards
| distant; it's jaws were widening. But
the fire was was between them.
There came rush of wind ending in
| a sound more fierce than a wounded
| lions roar. The man was caught by
the blast as he stood upright weak yet
| defiant, matching his puny being
against the strength of the brute-tree
| with the help of the mind within him
| controlling the fiery element as & weap-
On. Sucked forward, blinded by smoke,
scorched, Ramsay fell on his face and
| lay still with a last conscious effort to
save his life. Beyond his BODY the
myrtlas and fuchsias were cracking,
the tall chajual blossoms blazed like
| high torches, the fire was spreading,
| leaEing up to the boldo branches i'll
| yCnder thicket, running over the open
ground in a low sheet that burnt the
| lamparagua roots.
For half minute the Thing stayed, try
| ing 10 stand its ground. Now it was in
| full flight! The great sucker-feet were
| travelling over the burning herbage, drag
ging it's tree-trunk with agonized efforts,
yard upon yard, toward the stream.
Five minutes later there came a gollop-
| ing of horses down the valley; mems
| shouts. But Ramsay did not hear them.
| He seemed to lie prone at deaths door,
! too weak to enter unless spirit hands
| lifted him over its threshold and brought
| him within to be at peace and rest.
| But they were earthly hands that were
| trying to pour some brandy down Ram
| says throat. When his eyes opened,
| Pedro was supporting his masters head,
| while group of men around were watch
| ing the stranger curiously, foremost
| among whom was an English gentleman.
| Coming TO all right?' said the latter.
| "a near shave that. You began to smoke,
| l take 1t, finding yourself pretty nearly
| lost and famished, so the valley got fired.
| We have been out searching for you since
| morning, when your man rode up TO my
| hacienda, worn out and demented. We
| passed the head of the valley at 10 o'clock,
| but could see no sign of your horse. which
|