The silver messenger. (Challis, Idaho) 1890-1912, 1902-11-18
Across Fanning's Bridge
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sue OF nil overlooking the french
Broad valley. Far up the valley
CLEANS the water of the beautiful
stream, as it rushes on through
mountain gorges and dales on its
way to the Tennessee. Beyond the
valley lie the foothills; high above
these rise range after range of
mountains. Above all towers the top
of lonely Pisgah.
There has been the usual August
rain, and the river is up and out of
its banks, covering the fertile valley
and climbing high up on the stalks
of corn. Last night the moon was
bright, and 1 went down to the
bridge, which is hidden from the
house by a high hill browning the
bend in the river. In the soft light
of the moon the old wooden bridge
is very picturesque, but you cannot
help wondering if it will stand
against that mighty rush of waters
against it's supports. Now and then
a big log hits against it's wooden
pier and you feel the jar and tremble
of all it's timbers.
/ stood near the center of the
bridge as in a dream, watching the
eddying of the waters and the play
of the moonlight on it's surface.
Suddenly l was startled by the sound
of buggy, or some kind of vehicle
Gathering on the bridge. 1 turned
in establishment to see who could be
going at such gait at that time of
night. What was my amazement
upon seeing nothing-not a human
being in sight, not buggy or even a
horse.
81 must surely have been dream
ing" said and turned again to
watch the water and the moonlight.
In moment the same sound dis
turbed my reverie. turned once
more in wonderment; the same re-
suit. Not soul; nothing broke the
quiet of the beautiful scene. 1 must
confess it was becoming somewhat
uncanny; and when a third time this
startling noise was heard the bright,
CHEEKY lights of home rose in allur-
ing colors before me, and l started in
that direction.
was just nearing the end of the
bridge when 1 saw my old friend By
Golly-Jim, as he was Familiarity
known. l knew ne was the bridge
watcher, and he had probably come
down to remove the driftwood from
the pier. This was his mission. L
greeted him and led him to the CEN
ter of the bridge under pretense of
looking at the drift. Again the clat-
tering of wheels and horses hoofs
were heard. / turned to him in ques-
tioning establishment. His face wore
a curious kind of satisfied express
sion.
you heerd it, too, did YEP" he
said. at bothered me lots at first,
but 1 done got plum used to it now.
They say that's Dick Lorick driving
He comes every full moon ever since
it happened, an that's nigh on to
five years. Whoop! thar comes big
'un. sho'." With this the old man
long pole pushed the log away from
the pier. 1t seemed to me a perilous
operation, but he appeared to be per-
fectly unconcerned and fearless
about hanging over the angry water.
l moved to the end of the bridge
and sat down, being very anxious to
hear the account of Dick Lorick, but
knew it was better to let Jim take
his own time in the telling of it.
After awhile he came and sat down
by me, saying: "Yes, on this kind o.
night 1 don't mind having company
on this bridge, not in the least
particle. You know l amt scared,
but it makes me feel kind of slittish,
sho', to hear that horse and buggy
come clatterin' over the bridge and
not see a durn soul"
NO" 1 said, of course you don't
believe in that foolishness; but who
was Dick Lorick and what happened
to him?"
"Who he was and whar he come
from nobody round in these parts
can tell We; but what happened tc
him seed myself. 1t was this way
You see that little cabin over thar
on the side of that hill-you cen just
see the roof of it from here. No
body lives thar now, and don'r
reckin' they ever will.
swell, old man Joe Skinner used
to live thar, and a meaner man never
walked Gods ground. He was so
mean to his wife they say she was
glad to die and get rid of him; but
she left a darter behind, and if ever
was sorry for anybody it was for
that ar Truthy Skinner. And pref
ty! There wasn't any hkelier gal
in all these mountains. AS old as 1
is, used to plum love to look at her,
but l alters looked out the corner of
my eye when my old woman was
around, for she is powerful cantanker-
Gus and perticlar. But Truthy was
one of them proud-looking creeters.
She hilt her head just as high and
walked just like a housekeeping
horse. And as mean as her daddy
was to her it never made her stop
her proud ways. She cooked and
washed and scrubbed for him; but
she was high-headed all the time.
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