Williston graphic. (Williston, Williams County, N.D.) 1895-1919, 1899-06-01

1 canyon bed as from desert to gar
den. He looked around to say some
thing. McCann was gone. 49f
| WeN,lFm dAzd!" he calculated, and
yelled loudly.
After q moments pause, from far
down the opposite slope came faint
whoop. Bob sat down on fallenatree
and waited philosophically, shouting
at intervals. In a little while the Irish
man came charging frantically up the
gulch, tearing along through the vines
and bushes at full speed, so terrified
that he passed within ten feet of Bob
without seeing him. The latter watched
him surge by with an odd little twinkle
in his eye. Then suddenly he shouted
again. Pat slowed up, looked about for
-a,moment vacantly and then his rugged
Hibernian face broke into a multitude
of jolly wrinkles. $
"Arrah, it's yerself, darlin'," he said;
'Oi thought it's Pat Mccain as is goin'
! t. slape wild tn mountain lines this
nightly
"You stick t. me-" was Bob's only
comment.
| After short climb the men reached
the camp on knoll overlooking two
continent gulches. There was the SUI
perintendent's office, the cookhouse, the
clubhouse, the blacksmith's shop, the
stables and the corral-all of logs. Sup
per was served at shutdown. The men
filed in, took off their coats and sat
down without word. AS each one
finished eating he arose, put on his
coat again and sauntered outside, filling
his pipe as he went. Finally the whole
gang was gathered at the clubhouse,
smoking, telling laconic stories or play
ing cribbage the great American game
in the mountains.
AS the last conner, Pat was told to
water the horses. He went boldly into
the corral with rope and was kicked
flat. The boys Strengthened him out,
and, after he had regained his breath,
gave two of the horses halters into his
hands. Except in the main canyons
of the Black Hills there is no surface
water, the creeks all running down
along the bedrock. Asa consequence,
wells are necessary even in the upper
hills. Pat first let horse get loose,
then he lost the bucket down the well,
then he fell in himself in trying to fish
it out. The boys fished him out with
some interest. So manifestly made
quate an individual it had not been their
fortune tomeet before, and they looked
on him as curiosity. On the spot they
adopted Pat Mccain much as they
would have adopted a stray kitten or
puppy, and doubtless in somewhat the
same amused, tolerant state of mind.
The next morning Bob and Pat
cleared away the debris of the three
blasts, wrenching off the broken, ad-
herring bits with pick and shoveling
them out. King came up with an ak
gang and built a rough, square breast
work of logs down the hill, to catch the
quartz as in a bin. They also squared
a number of timbers and tongued the
ends. These were to. timber the shaft.
All this interested the little Irishman.
He recovered his spirits, and his old
blarney came back to him. The clear,
fresh air of the hills, the abundant food,
the hard work, the sound sleep, the re-
action against the taciturnity of the
men, and the calm grandeur of the
mountains, filled him with animal
spirits. He imagined he had found his
vocation at last. He wanted to do
everything. In time he learned to
strike with the sledge, although it was
only after long practice on stake that
he could induce anyone to ''hold' for
him; he sharpened drills-after fash
ion; he even helped in the timbering-
up. The only thing lacking was the
Shooting of the charges. He had an
ambition to touch the thing off. This
King roughly forbade.
"That fy-away fool to risk his neck
that way?" he said; II guess not! He
don't know enough now to make his
head ache. When want wild Irish
man too dead to skin, I'll let you know.
don't want that man to have the first
thing to do with the powder. Under
stand that!"
What King said went in that camp.
| Besides, the men knew him to be in
the right. Pat was the unluckiest man
alive, and the most awkward. He was
sure to be in any trouble there was
about-in fact, as Jack Williams said,
he was sort of lightning-rod for the
whole camp in the way of trouble;
everyone else was sure of exemption, if
There was only one mans share of diff
ficulty dealt out. So Mccain pleaded
in vain.
This went to his heart. He would
have given his blackthorn shillalah
from Dublin to have been looked upon
as full-fedged miner. He used to put
on all the airs of one in Sweetwater
when he went down there once a week,
staggering about in copper-riveted
jeans, with his hat on one side, conyers-
ing learnedly though vaguely on "blow
OUTS" ''horses," foot wallis" and other
technicalities, hauling out of his pockets
yellow-fecked bits of quartz-in short,
putting on dog to an amazing extent.
But as he turned past the stampmill of
the Great Snake and began to scale the
heart-breaking trail that led to the top
of the ridge, his crest began to fall. AS
he followed tie narrow, level summit
for three miles of it's length, standing as
it were in the very blueness of the air,
his spirits began to evaporate. When
he took the shorter and gentler descent
to the camp, the old conviction had re-
turned with sickening force. He was
not a miner. He had never "shot." He
used all his persuasive powers in vain.
For one thing, the men were afraid to
| disobey King, For another. they liked