Audubon Republican. [volume] (Audubon, Iowa) 1894-1925, 1901-08-01
Susie: A S shssss.
CHAPTER u.-(Continued, !,
By Philip verriII MishoIt

low. to cease and go to his cabin. Hav-
ing loaded the bucket he labored slow
ly up the vertical climb on the ladder.
The Indian glided nearer to the edge
He could hear every step on the rungs
OF the ladder. could ever detect the
sound of the roughened hands grasp
Ing the wood. Leaning far over, he
saw the candle, fastened on the miners
hat. Nearer, nearer 1t slowly came
nickering. throwing goblin shadows
against the somber walls, contending
faintly against the encompassins
gloom.
The shaft was now alive with hollow
echoes of the labors of the man. On
came the light. 1t was 10 feet AWAY
1t was five feet-two. The head and
the light emerged above the yawning
chasm.
With a movement swift, strong,
snake-like, Mingo thrust out his pow
erful hand. 1t came across the min
er's eyes and nose; then the head was
wrenched quickly, violently backward.
The hands, surprised, tried to cling,
but failed. They loosened, waved Wild
~, clutched at the air, and then, with
the body and head, were overtoppled.
Headlong, twisting, turning, the man
was hurled to the swallowing abyss.
The light on the hat gave forth the
sound of a. flame in the wind and was
gone-plucked off by the rushing dark
ness! A shrek issued forth from the
mouth Of the tomb.
Susie! little Susie!" was the cry.
Sounds of striking-a bounding
back and forth, DULY, against the
Jagged sides-a crash at the bottom
and silence deeper than stiffness en-
sued.
The door swung open and Mingo, the
Washoe, glided forth and away in the
twilight, into the sage brush; and a
rabbit would have made greater
rustic.
The stiffness Of midnight, seeming
attribute of masses of shadows that
crouched from the waning moon, be-
hind the rocks. the brush and every
salient thing, was timidly broken. The
ereak In the hinges Of the mine cabin
door sounded weirdly clear-a wall,
an omen, thought the Indian girl An
awesome darkness filled the silent
shed. Susie, on her knees, went creep
ing. feeling with her hands for the
edge of the shaft. There she clutched
the windlass post. and leaned her
breast against it.
Frank" she cooed, in a low, sweet
tone that wavered with the effort made
to keep 1t cheerful, Frank, my sun
shine-Frank."
No sound save that piece Of rock,
somewhere down along the pick
SCARED walls of the shaft, loosened and
fell, down and down, striking the sides
with diminishing sounds, till ghostly
echo announced its bottom rest. Then
deeper silence.
Dear one, are you there?" she called
again; but the sound of her voice, re-
bounding on herself, made her fright
, ened and awed.
Pressing her heart against the post
again, to still its audible humping, she
sat a moment in dread. Suddenly,
then, strengthened by the thought that
he might be there, wounded. perhaps,
and needing her sadly. down in the
gloom Of the yawning mine, she
CROPPED her way to the ladder Moan
ing of instinct, there in the darkness,
she slowly descended, down and down
in the hooking, echoing tomb.
In the utter blackness her hands
discovered his face, and she cried
aloud, till the shaft was full of an
guish.
A homeless mass. inert and fitted to
the jagged surface OF the loaded buck
ct OF ore, into which he had fallen, she
found. His head hung Imply athwart
the buckets edge: the eyes, which her
fingers sought, were closed.
Beside him. kneeling. she sank, to
moan and Groom, combing the dark,
curling hair with her fingers, kissing
the face--and seeing nothing. She
fancied that beat, slight and feeble,
lived in his breast. Calling his name,
she coaxed and wooed, and then, de-
spairing, stood up and prayed for
help.
God, IL the Indians. too, have souls"
she said, give my aching soul to him
--let him live! Give me something
Great Eternal Spirit-something of
hope!"
With an esoteric summoning of a
marvellous strength, she lifted the
dropping form; the arms and head fell
listlessly across her shoulders. Then
to the ladder! And with all the pow
er of arms and limbs, thewed by des-
peration against the giant task, she
started toiling up and up. like one who
shoulders up crushing weight, to
gain the air and freedom. Her palms
were burning, her knees shook and
trembled. her breath came in gasping
lung clutches painful to bear; the
darkness swan thickly about-she was
sitting, smothered, congested with
blood, yet she forced her way aloft.
Across the floor of the cabin at last
she fell with the burden. The limpish
arms went dangling at random about
her neck in a CHASTITY embrace that
thrilled her keenly with joy. Exhaust
ed she lay, fondling the hands and
face, trying to rub him back to life,
till the chill of long-dead clay was
come, and the face seemed carved in
stone.
Through the night, bending above
him, she poured out fountain of her
love and grief alternately with all the
softness of her Indian cooings and
cadence of her mellowed English syl-
tables. Grey morning found her WOO
ing still the smile on the dead mans
lips, striving, yearning to warm the
cold, white features.