Wausau pilot. [volume] (Wausau, Wis.) 1896-1940, 1901-02-12
CHAPTER /.

its elevation is hardly more than FIVE hun
dred feet, the abruptness with which it
rises out of the meadow lands, the
straightuess and length of the lofty line
its summit makes against the sky and
the absence of near rival emincnces
cause it to seem, when viewed from the
valley, a real mountain. It's top, Tor a
length of about two miles, is level and
straight and is trayersed by road, one
of the most charming drives imaginable,
and not by any means so difficult of ac-
cess as might be expected. since the slope
at the end Of the hill is so gradual that
teams, drawing loaded wagons, ascend it
with little difficulty. Through an alley
Of tall trees it runs, their boughs arching
overhead and their dead leaves carpeting
1t. Smaller trees and shrubs NIL the
spaces between their great trunks, and
make a wall Of foliage on either side,
through riffs in which. here and there,
glimpses are afforded of blue sky and
1eecy-white clouds drifting across it. No
where is the summit more than four or
five rods in width.
One flank of the hill is steep, but not
beyond d skillful and daring climbers
scaling. The other, however, is like a
Of foliage, that rocky face would be seen
scared scanned and wrinkled by ages
Of passive resistance to the destroying
forces of nature. Rain, frost. sunshine
and wind have graved deeply their traces
upon It. But, while the summer lasts at
least, It is fresh and fair.
During all the season Of foliage and
bloom, one looking up from the valley
can descry nothing of that timefurrow-
ed face, but only its vivid mask from the
summit down to the base; where the crys-
tai creek has undermined it and where
fishes. alarmed by the cattle FLASHING
among the gravel on the farther side of
the pool, dart across the reflected sky and
through the inverted forest to find refuge
among the never-lifting black shadows
far beneath the rocks. All the hooks and
crannies in that rugged wall are full of
life. Foxes have their hiding places in
the caves; birds build their nests in safe
ty in spots accessible only to things with
wings; chipmunks and squirrels frolic
and bark among the branches; snakes
sun themselves on exposed points of
rocks; owls blink and ponder in the deep
est shadows; bees store their golden
sweets secure from all despoilers; myri-
ads Of Natures wild children here find
homes, safe from each other and from
the common enemy, man.
Late in the afternoon of 4 short autumn
nal day, John Cameron, returning home
ward from hunting in the distant hills.
strobe along the Devils Backbone toward
the valley. 4 big bunch of gray SOUR
rels upon his right shoulder showed that
he had had good success: but evidently
his hunt was not yet over. He moved
almost noiseiessly. his rifle lay ready on
his left forearm, and he was kecnly alert
for any sight or sound betokening the
presence of game. To his ears came the
sigh of the forest, that is never hushed,
and, through it the impudent barking of
foolish squirrel that having caught sight
of him, must needs proclaim the fact to
the universe, instead of prudently scam
pering away in silence to place Of safe
". The crack Of Johns rifle sounding
strangely small and sharp away up there
where there was nothing to echo it. put
an abrupt stop to the barking and Il lit
tie gray, furry lump tumbled from the
top of a hickory tree to the ground. at the
very brink OF the precipicc, and lay mo-
tionlesS. In the very act Of STOPPING to
sight Of a thin, dirty-whitc. cotton string.
tied to little bush. close to the ground.
1t had been covered by leaves, and would
have remained unseen. had not the SOUR
reIs body knocked them away and ex-
posed it.
Why should anybody have tied a string
ehere? lie laid down his gun and pro-
ceeded to investigate hauling in two or
h.,
which dangled over the face of the cliff.
Then it broke.
What the mischief is at the other end
of it," muttered John to himself.
He laid down, and, thrusting his body
out perilously far over the edge of tba
precipice, tried in vain to see, among tho
rocks and bushes below, what held the
other end of the string. Fifty feet below
a large hickory tree seemed to be firmly
rooted in a ledge of earth among tho
rocks, and one of its strong branches
was only few feet beyond his reach
He calculated that if he could GET hold of
that branch he might safely swing down
by il to a dogwoOd tree Of smaller siza
on the ledge he wished to reach. OF
course, if his hold gave way. or tba
branch broke, he would 20 on down to
the bottom Of the prccipicc, and probably
break everything frangible in his apat
Omy. But il he did not take thar rist
he could not learn what was ar the otbar
end of the string. That settled the ouss-
tiou OF his making the attempt. Having
in view a possible shot at a fox or RAT
tlesuake when he got down there. he low
cred his rifle by the string. 10 the ledge
he purposed reaching. Then, by means
of q long fOrked stick, he drew in To him
the hickory branch. clutchcd it, swung
off, and made the descent he had planned
in safety. But the elucidation of the myS-
terry had not vet been attained. The
string continued on. still farther down.
passing through a crevice in the rock. in
20 which il had doubtless been blown by
the wind when dangling free-and he had
TO make a second descent. even more
perilous than the first. to reach a still
lower ledge. This, too he effected safe
ly, having first sent his gun down ahead
Of him, as before. and NJ length he found
the other end Of the string.
1t was tied 70 n small but heavy parcel.
closely wrapped in 4 cloth that, as he I'M
rolled it. seemed to bear blood stains.
Eleven solid silver spoons and a gold
watch were in the package. Carefully
wound around the watch, to protect il
from dampuesS, was a strip of oiled silk,
two feet long and three inches wide. upon
which he made out the initials. Wv. s.
scratched as if by a pin-point. The watch
was wen worn, but had no marks by
which it might be identified. excepting.
perhaps. its number. Engraved upon the
spoons, in iorid, interlaced lines. was 4
monogram that might have been "R. 3.
W. or any other possible combination
OF those three letters.
slightly exclaimed John. If finds
is keeps as the boys say, it was worth
while climbing down here"
Thrusting his prize in his pocket, and
seeing no sign OF a fox or any other
game, he began casting about for means
to get back 70 the top OF the cliff. 1t is
generally easier, in hill climbing. TO as
cend than 10 descend safely, and, know
ing this, he had not until now troubled
himself abour how he ShOuld RETURN bu-