Evening star., 1900-10-01

for, strange 1t may seem, my companion
informed me 1t was no uncommon thing to
have a magazine broken into and a wagon
load Of the contents stolen. On one side of
the door hung a horseshoe held by string.
Inside were arranged several wagonloads
of cans; not shooters wagons, but stock
wagons, that hold from seventy-two to
ninety-six cans. Twelve cans were quickly
placed under the seat and we started again.
Somehow the road seemed rougher and the
horses not nearly SO steady after we were
loaded. although I was assured that the
wagon always swung easier when loaded.
AS If this road was too good, we turned off
into a mere track. where the trees had
simply been cut down to enable team and
wagon to get through. would much rather
have walked, but my companion seemed
very unconcerned, and L reflected that If
that was his ordinary occupation / would
try to stand 1t for once. He kept regaling
me with anecdotes of his experiences with
those who wished to ride and didn't know
his business; how some would make him
stop while they got out and ran, while
others would get out, but stay long enough
to bless him for not telling before they
got In.
AS the road kept getting sleeper and ston-
ier, I did not hear all the stories he told
me, but began to wonder If / couldn't man
age to get jolted out. I am afraid he guess
ed my thoughts, as he began telling about
the rattlesnakes and copperheads ne had
killed going through this country, and he
showed me a string Of nine rattles he had
in his vest pocket. l hate snakes, and de-
cided to hold on, but couldn't help feeling
that the fools weren't all dead yet, and
fearing that one of them might be any
minute, and without leaving much behind
him for his friends to mourn over. AT
length we reached the main road and in
a few minutes well up on the hiliside
was pointed out as our destination Some
more rough road brought us to within about
fifty feet of the derrick floor, when the
horses were unhitched. taken off some dis
tance and each one securely TIED to tree.
Now the real business of shooting the
we'll began. After learning the depth Of the
well and how far above the bottom the
sand was, enough of the small tin pipe
known as anchors was brought up and
jointed together to hold the shell in the
required place. The reel was bolted to the
engine fywheel as near the center as con-
venient The drilling engine is. center
crank with fywheel on one side and pulley
on the other. and the shaft does not extend
beyond either hub. The tools had beer stood
on the casing head to help hold the casing
in when the shot went of, and to them
small rope carrying a pulley was dashed
in such a position as to be directly over the
hole
At this point the drillers and owners con-
cluded that they had business elsewhere,
and had faith enough In the shooter to let
him finish without them. Six trips with
can in each hand brought the nitro-glycer-
Inc up over the rocks and logs to the der
rick. 1 didn't offer to help. and he didn't
invite me. The line was run down the reel
through the pulley. the anchor fitted to
the bottom of the shell, the shell carefully
lowered into the hole and hung on the hook
at the end of the line. This hook is made
so that when the torpedo rests at the bot.
tom of the well 1t unhoOkS ana the Dali
drops to one side.
Before leaving the drillers had poured
water into the hole so that 1t stood about
800 feet deep, the hole being 1.114 feet deep
altogether. On the top Of the shell. Just