The Idaho Republican. [volume] (Blackfoot, Idaho) 1904-1932, 1905-12-22

About ten minutes later the boy
glided up to the window, opened Il
and called out, Pap says uil Of you
come over quick, bring lots of snow
shOveis and a couple of blankets.
Let some of the women get one of the
bed rooms warm and make some hot
soup and coffee" 1t don't take
much time for us old fellows whose
lives are full Of tragedies and start.
ling episodes, to get ready for almost
any kind Of contingency; and before
the boy had stopped talking, more
than two dozen strong and willing
men and several Of the other sex. not
always the weaker sex In a mining
camp, were gliding over the interven-
ing half mile. 1t was beautiful
morning after the storm and In the
light, crisp air Of that great altitude
every object stood out us clear and
distinct as If all nature rejoiced, and
no thought of death was possible. The
green branches Of the many pines
were heavily weighted with the late
ly fallen snow, and the level expanse
of Meadow Lake with it's white COW
ering glistened in the bright sunlight
like an immense mirror.
Not a word was spoken nor sound
heard in the still air, except the
swish of our snow shoes, as we
glided rapidly toward Cartons cabin.
This was built, as l have said, lit
tie distance from the more thickly
settled part Of the town although
now very many Of the smaller cabins
were buried out Of sight and upon
our arrival, nothing could be seen to
distinguish its position, except huge
mound of snow and the ends of two
snow shoes; presumably where the
chimney was. Two dozen willing
hands were soon hard at work, clear
ing away the huge drifts. and as soon
as the chimney was uncovered we
found. as we feared and expected.
that the space around it had been
permitted to lie and harden. 1t was
but too plain that what had fallen
during this previous storm had rapid
~ filed the small space below the
chimney cap, and the cabin been her.
metically sealed. AS soon as the
opening was made, couple of rs
climbed down. Poor Carlton stood,
leaning against the bricks of the
chimney; fully e othed, even to his
blue army o" coat, and the air was
thick W. d close, foul odor. There
were 40 matches in the cabin or up
on his person. He had evidently slept
long and soundly and realized from
his sensations when he awoke and be-
came partially conscious that he was
being smothered. That he had become
bewildered and had wandered aimless-
ly around the cabin was evident by
the articles strewn upon the floor, and
when he finally found the chimney,
had been too weak to make the
ascent and had gradually fallen into
his last sleep.
We judged he had been dead for
forty-eight hours or more, and as the
storm was raging so tlercely at that !
time, 1t is by no means certain that |
he could have been rescued, had his |
condition been known.
The body was wrapped in blankets |
and tenderly carried to the hotel |
and prepared at once for burial. The |
grave was dug near an old pine tree
through twenty-four feet of snow,
and steps had to be cut to lead down
to the ground. There was no minister
in the camp, but one of the women
brought out prayer book and the
burial service was read and probably |
each one of us sent up some sort of |
a prayer, that he might make hap
py landing on the other shore.
Over hundred men and women on
snow shoes accompanied the body
from the hotel to the grave, the wind
singing soft requiem as we laid the
body away in that great white sepul-
cher and commented upon the singu-
lar fatality that had CARED him safe
ly through years of bloody strife, to
at last meet his death in that strange
manner $500 feet above his home of
early days on the rock-bound shores