CanÌƒon City record. [volume] (CanÌƒon City, Colo.) 1883-192?, 1901-07-25

ldst one LOT sucD proposition. buu,
boys, we've mistook him. He's got
sand, for he's going to his funeral"
What George Barton said to his
mother no one knew Time was the
essence of this transaction, and in a
very short while he came up the
shoot clad in his furs, the baby
wrapped in a fur bag which was
slung under his arm. He carried his
staff in his hand, revolver in his
pocket for wolves, and on his booted
feet were the skis which the incom-
parable dope" had polished SO that
he could hardly stand. A moment
later he was lost to view.
The same dogged persistency
which had led Long Barton 10 be-
lieye thathe could win the race made
him think that he could carry the
baby to safety. II he had been ask
ed an hour before if a man eanld
do this. he would bave said no. He
strode up the little valley, keeping
in the center, with the walls of the
sierras, snowclad, trembling with
avalanches on either side and in an
hour struck the struggling forest.
He knew the trees well and for FIVE
miles kept the trail. Then he came
to the first slope. BY the aid of his
staff he made rapid slide, reaching
the bottom of the CANYON safely in
few seconds. And this was to be
his experience-climbing and slid
ing. The next hill was so soft that
he was breathing hard when he
reached half way. Then he felt
tremble, a nameless thrill, and the
entire side Of the mountain seemed
to give way, and he was carried ire
sistibly down ON the wings Of an ay-
alanche He made desperate strug-
giles and by a miracle kept near the
Top and after much labor dug him
self out.
II had stopped showing as he
started down the canyon, now slid
ing, now leaping. the famous dope
carrying him well and fast. From a
deep valley he must climb the next
range. but when he was half way up
the snow began TO fall again. and he
became bewildered. He could not
see the stars and would have to trust
10 luck So he swung himself over
the divide and rushed down the
slopes. Another range to climb. and
still il showed. and later the wind
rose and tossed the snow aloft in
great spectral wraiths that looked to
his distorted vision like shrouds.
But that warm bundle so close to his
heart gave him courage, and he
pushed on.
Five hours he had been travelling
steadily. lie could no, remember
how many ranges he had passed.
IL had forgotten how many ranges
he was TO cross to reach the town
/ He made some descents that equaled
the famous race course, narrowly es-
Gaping trces and rocks, holding one
arm about the bundle, patting it as
I I've heard iitful cries. Again he was
caught in an avalanche, reaching the
bottom waist deep in snow, the baby
almost buried. 1t was now daylight,
and after digging his feet out he I'M
rolled the bundle and, protecting it,
gave the baby a ration Of the milk,
which had kept warm against his
body II looked wonderingly at him
the while, and George, who knew
very little about babies, made up his
mind that it must be very good
naturcd one.
He did not realize how weary he
was until he started up again. Then
he found that his foot had been
twisted and he was lame. The cold
was increasing, the snow was finer
and filed his eyes, and he felt that
/ this was the beginning of the end.
But on he pressed until the after
noon, when the baby cried, and he
stopped to give it the remainder of
the milk, looking at the little face
with red and desperate eyes. On he
went again, now running, now limp
ing, plunging down the slopes until
he began to experience strange
oppression. as though band of iron
was about his head. Then he SEEM
cd to be at home, and he tried TO ask
his mother to take the baby. He
suddenly stopped. trembling, realiz-
ing that his mind was not clear. and
dashed snow upon his forehead,
Then he rushed on again like a
mailman
How far he went no one knows to
this day. but it had been many miles
in the wrong direction, when, with
wild laugh, which frightened those
who heard il. Long Barton unslung