Little Falls weekly transcript. (Little Falls, Morrison Co., Minn.) 1894-19??, 1898-07-19
FROM. THE PIT.

"Signor, we are arrived, Whispered
the old man in my ear, and he put out .
sudden cold hand, corded like melon
rind, to stay me in the stumbling dark
ness
We were on a tilted tablcland Of the
mountain, and, looking forth and below,
the far indigo crescent Of tho bay,
where it swept toward Castellamare,
seemed to rise up at me as if it were q
perpendicular wall. across which the
white crests Of the waves flew like
ghost moths. We skirted bowlder and
came upon field of sleek purple lava
sown all over with little lemon jets Of
silent smoke, which in their wan and
melancholy glow might have been the
corpse lights Of those innumerable dead
whose tombstone was the mountain
itself.
Far away to the right the great hol-
low tooth Of tho crater flickered inter-
mittently with u nerve of fire. I started
upon hearing the low whisper Of my
companion ut my ear. lin the bay yes
terday tho signor saved my life. I give
the signor in return my lifes secret. F"
He seized my right hand in his with
u sinewy clutch and pointed stiff fin
ger at the luminous blots "See there.
and there, and there, " he shrilled. Zone
floats and wavers like spineless rib.
bon Of seaweed in the water, another
burns with a steady radiance, q third
blares from its tissure like a fame driven
by the blowpipe. It is all question Of
tho underdraft, and some may feel
it little and some a little moro or q
little less. All. but I will show you
one that feels it not ut ALA hole,
narrow shaft that goes straight down
into the pit of the great hell and is cold
as the mouth Of q barbel. ="
The bones Of his face stood out like
rocks against sand, and the pupils OF
his maniac eyes were glazed or fell into
shadow as the volcano lightnings flick
cred.
Suddenly he drew me to q broken
pile of sulphur rock lying tumbled
against ridge of the mountain that
ran toward tho crater. 1t lay heaped, q
fused and fantastic ruin, and in mo
ment the old oman leaped from me and
was tugging by main strength vast
fragment from its place. l leaned over
his shoulder and looked down upon tho
hollow revealed by tho displaced bowl
der. 1t was like the bell Of II mighty
trumpet and in the middle puckered
opening seemed to suck inward rs IL it
were tho mouth Of some subtorranean
monster risen to the surface Of the
world for mir.
"Quick, quick" muttcrcd Paolo.
'Tho signor must place his car to tho
hole"
With little odd stir mt my heart
dropped upon my knees and leaned my
head deep into tho cup. l must have
staid thus full minute before / drew
myself back and looked up ut the old
mountaneer. His eyes gazed down into
mino with mad intensity.
Isl, ST." no whispered, "what didst
thou hear?''
II heard a long surging thunder, Pa
olo, and the deep shrill screaming Of
many gas jets.
He bent down, with livid face.
"Signor, it is the booming Of tho
everlasting fire, and thou hast heard
tho voices of tho damned."
"No, my friend, no. but it is mar
velous transmission Of tho uproar OF
hidden forces.
"Listen and believe" he cried, and
funneling his hands about his lips he
stopped over the central hole.
"Marco, MARCH, no screeched in q
piercing voice.
Something answered back. What was
it? A malforIned and twisted echo? A
whistle of imprisoned steam trickcd
into some horrible caricature Of hu-
man voice?
"Paoloi' it seemed to wall, weak
and faint with agony. 'L'aqua,
laqua, Paolo!"
Tho old man sprang to his feet, and
looking down upon mo in sort Of ter
rible triumph unsluhg a water flask
from his belt, and pulling out the cork
poured tho cold liquid down into the
puckercd oritico. Then folt his clutch
OH my arm again.
"Ho drinks, " he cried. "Liston, and
thou wilt understand"
rose, with tho ghost of laugh, and
once moro addressed my ear to tho open
ing.
From unthinkable depths came up a
strange gloating sound, as from a raven
GUS throat made vibrant with ecstasy.
"Paolo," cried, as rose and stood
before him, and there was an hysterical
note in my voice, "a feather may decide
tho balance. Beware Of meddling with
hidden thunders, or you may set rolling
such another tombstone as that ON
which these corpse fires arc yet fam
ing"
And ho only answered me, sot and
deathly:
1--WE Of the mountains, signor, know
moro things than we may tell of. e.
J. Capes in Short Stories.
Daring steeple Climbing.
Vienna has been astonished lately by
come daring stecple climbing. A steeple