The Red Cloud chief., 1901-08-23
BOO Celeste was Wooed.

county Of Carroll. in the state of New
Hampshire. are heavily wooded.
The lone exception Is Chocorna noun
tain. Passaconnaway. one Of the most
impressive of the group OF giant hills,
Is thick with huge hemlocks. pines and
frs, and here and there a broad ribbon
of uprooted and dead timber marks
where the tornadoes have rushed down
the mountainside, uprooting the tallest
trees and carrying death in their hol-
low hands.
Life there IN the hills still clings to
some Of its old-time ways, and the two
wheeled cart and the spinning wheel
are not yet relegated to the shades of
the past. The tall yankee clock Is still
10 be seen in many households, and
now and then a spinnet gives out a
quaver, like the cracked voice Of an
old man, vainly reminiscent Of the days
of his youth. On the lower foothills,
or shelving lodges, of Black mountain,
sandwich Dome. Ossipee, Chocorna,
Whiteface and Pangus are many thou
sands of acres covered with heavy tim
Der. Spruce, birch, hemlock and other
trees, and In many places there is a
dense underground, and under the
lodges and shelves of rock, and in nu-
fnerous caves high up on the rockier
OF the elevations, are still to be found
lynxes and wildcats. Lower down
foxes end sable are found ,'and deer are
yet fairly numerous on the mountains.
In a little cleared space on a slope
of Passaconnaway mountain was the
cabin Of Pierre Chenaud, a strange bit
OF human wreckage lodged among the
rocks Of that gaunt land. Chenaud
did not take kindly to the rude hus-
bandry Of his %neighbors, which wrung
a scauty subsistence from the unwill-
ing soil. He was a rover, a trapper, a
hunter. In the winter he tracked the
deer across the mountains and the car
cases he brought back proved his IN
erring aim In the autumn he shared
and shot the rufed grouse, which
ahounded, and the shy, silent, awkward
brown hares that passed. shadow-like,
through the thickets. In the spring
and summer the brook trout were ev-
erywhere In the mountain streams.
And then, too, in the mountain lakes
the black ducks descended, and Pierre
was a famous fowler. There were pike,
too, in these lakes.
And, too, his traps. The sable. fox,
marten, yer wildcats, that he over
came! Very seldom wal he obliged to
actually labor as did his neighbors. He
enjoyed life. He was AZ years old,
straight as a pine. tough and wlry as
a deer sinew. His little cabin, his
guns. traps. fishing tackle and fiddle
comprised his possessions. If the
nelghbors liked to farm, let them farm.
"Mais-oui." said Pierre.,"I care non.'
Canaille they were. according to him,
with an indescribably expressive shrug
of the shoulders. But first and fore
most OF his treasures--more than all
else to this lone man-was Celeste
INA chere Celeste"
She was brown and FURNISHED as an
autumn oak leaf in the sunlight. Quick
and graceful In her movements, daring
and light-hearted, singing quaint bits
III " iitto lhaI lCIlC a
taught her. keeping the cabin floor
swept Of every scrap Of dirt. decking
herself with bright feathers and beau
tifu. skins. half savage and yet all
woman. And as flery-hearted as Papa
Pierre. To say that the farmer boys of
The vicinity were crazy over Celeste is
simply putting 1t mildly. No one could
sing and dance like Celeste. And
Pierre ground his teeth and made fran
tic Gaelic gesticulations at the mere
thought IT anyone OF them capturing
her affections.
Chief among Celeste's admirers were
Alonzo Edwards, the Oldest son Of the
But he was SO evidently In love that
Celeste played with his passion with
true French cOquetry. Day In and day
out he sought her wherever she ap-
peared at the dances or at her fathers
cabin. Pierre looked on, sometimes
amused. sometimes ~glowering. One
night after Edwards had put on his
snow shoes and gone down the noun
tain Pierre put his hands on Celeste's
shoulders, looked deeply and steadily
into her eyes, and said, questioningly:
You love him."
The girl smiled, half thoughtfully:
Not yet" she said. Pierre shrugged
his shoulders.
"Nimporte." was his only reply.
One summer day Celeste started for
Bearcamp pond to fish for perch and
pickerel. She saddled her fathers
bony old Rosenante and in about AL
hours ride reached the pond. Dark
hemlocks and spruce grew to the wa
ter's edge on most of the shores and
Ossipee's colossal shadow swept over
the emerald waters. Cardinal flowers
flashed up among the gray powders al
the ponds edge like flashes of fire. All
among the lily pods lie great spotless
water lilies. and beyond stood Red
HIPS steep battlements.
The girl tied the ancient steed to a
- 49,