Iron County register. [volume] (Ironton, Iron County, Mo.) 1867-1965, 1902-12-18
By William Sage.

was a tinge of red on the tip of his
nose, but with the thermometer at 80
below, a nose which had never even
known the smell of "old rye" might
be pardoned for taking on the color
of a ruddy beet.
With the mercury still trying to
crawl down to the bulb, three foot of
snow on the level, and drifts that
could not be measured, Jim started
out to drive to the big Slide" camp.
1t was not just the best of days for
a twenty-mile drive, but there was a
load of supplies to 60, and as Jim was
driving for "Big Slide" that winter, it
was for him to take them in; so he
hitched up and started. 1t was the
hardest winter that the lumbermen
on "Big Slide" had known in years.
The snow had come down suddenly
and heavily one day in early Novem-
Der, and successive storms had added
to it until no one could tell just how
far underneath the ground was to be
found. On the morning that the first
snow-storm fell the weather had been
SO mild that Bottles Calculated to do
a little plowin'." The blizzard came
up with a rush and Jim had been
obliged to unhitch and run his team
into the barn. He had not been able
to ''locate" that pillow since; though
he "reckoned it was somewhat out
in the lot; and he'd find it fore sum-
mer."
Jim was not a very big Bottle. He
was inclined to be what is called
poor" He had a thin, weather.
beaten face, and a scrubby grisled
growth on his upper lip. He might
have been IS or IS; it was impossible
to tell whether the scars and burrows
on his brown cheek were the marks
of age or of the cutting winds that
swept down the mountains and
through the valley six months in the
year. Jim stopped a little, and at his
best did not weigh over 1875 pounds;
but in winter he was obliged to hold
up his end with the other men in the
lumber camp, and in summer when
guiding it" through the mountains
he always seemed to get the heaviest
packs to carry; but at night he would
be a "durned sight porter" than many
! a bigger a
When Jim hitched up the bay colts
to the sleigh and drove out of the val
ley settlement on the oath of Deem
Der, it. was considerably past the
noon-hour. 1t would be dark before
the camp was reached, but Jim Bot
ties knew every inch of the road, win
ter or summer, awake or asleep. 1
was going to add, drunk or sober, but
Jim was not a drinking man. Some
of the men in the camp drank a little
''to keep the frost out"
When Jim left the valley road and
struck into the go ge it was growing
dark. The snow had drifted so
against the mountain-side that there
was no possibility of following over
the trail where the road lay con-
cealed. Between the h~igh-walled hills
lay two slender threads of lakes
joined by a narrow channel. On to
the crisp ice Jim drove. The wind
had swept the lake almost clear. Bot
ties touched up the colts and the
heavily-laden sleigh sped smartly over
the frozen surface. The wind blew
pitilessly through the gorge. 1t was
always more bitter there than any
where else. Jim drew up his coat col
lar and muttered, "Colder'n Sam
HILL" Bottles was not a profane
man. "Sam Hill" was his patron
saint and served him on all occasions.
The outlet from the upper to the
lower lake was not over ten rods in
length with a sharp twist like the
letter S. 1t was frozen solid with
the exception of a spring-hole at the
entrance to the upper pond" The
hardest winter had not succeeded in
congealing this spot of a half rod.
Bottles had himself thrown in some
brush-wood when he last came
through, but he knew the spot must
be soft and wondered whether the
colts would get the load over the
place in safety. 'It'd be Sam Hills
own job to get this load out if they
stuck in it," meditated Jim.
1t was a sombre Gene. The high
walls Of spruce and pine stretching
up a thousand feet to the dim sky
line; a cold sky above with a few
stars beginning to twinkle through
the fast approaching darkness; a
frozen lake below, with the gorge
banked on each side with huge drifts
of snow, pure and white and cold.
The wind, eddying through the ra-
vine, amused itself by catching up
fine particles of snow, whirling them
across the surface of the ice like mist
to deposit them upon some drift on
the opposite side. Back and forth
blew the sportful, boisterous wind,
taking away here, adding there,
forming new mounds and riffs with
every changing hour. Bottles cared
nothing for the grandeur Of the
scene. He had beheld it in summer
with the soft breeze signing through
the trees and gently ripping the
surface of the water. He had seen 1t in
spring with the rain pouring down in
torrents and the roads washed down
into the lakes. He had driven over 1t
on many a winter day and night.
1t was all an old story to him. The
grandeur did not thrill him, the So
lemnity did not Cypress him, nor did
the weather appear to daunt him or
draw forth any expression indicative
Of emotion, than the muttered: 1T
is colder'n Sam Hill, certain" as he
brushed the frozen particles from his
eyelashes for the twentieth time.
The fact that it was the hardest
winter "Big Slide" had known in
years made little impression on Jim.