Camas Prairie chronicle. [volume] (Cottonwood, Idaho) 1901-1917, 1906-06-01
CHAPTER XII.

TOT some time very well, and then tried
to bolt again"
'"The old trick. Ha; ha! don't know
itY says Mr.. Frere.
well we caught him and gave him
fifty. Then he was sent to the chain
gang, cutting timber Then we put him
into the boats, but he quarreled with
the coxswain, and then we took him
back to the timber RATS. About six
weeks ago he made another attempt
together with Gabbett, the man who
nearly killed you--but his leg was
chafed with the irons, and we took him
Gabbett and three more, however, got
tway."
just then some one came up the gar
den path and saluted.
what is it, Troke?"
prisoner given himself up, sir. Cab
bett. He came back tonight. He's
down at the sheds. You can see him at
once, gentlemen, If you like"
1t was not far to the sheds, and after
a few minutes walk through the wood
en- palisades they reached a long stone
building, two stories high, from which
Used a horrible growing pierced with
shrilly screamed songs. At the sound
of the musket butts clashing on the pine
wood tagging, the noises ceased, and a
silence more sinister than sound fell on
the place.
Passing between two rows Of warders,
the two officers reached a sort of ante
room to the jail, containing a pine-log
stretcher, on which a mass of some
thing was lying. On a roughly made
stool by the side of this stretcher sat
a man in the gray dress of good con-
duct" prisoners. This man held be-
tween his knees basin containing cruel
and was apparently endeavoring to feed
the mass, on the pine logs.
"Gabbettw
The intelligent Troke, considerably
alive to the wishes of his superior off,
GERS, dragged the mass into sitting
posture, and awoke it,
Gabbett-fOr it was he-passed one
great hand over his face, and, leaning
exactly in the position in which Troke
had placed him, scowled, bewildered, at
his visitors
well, Gabbett," says Vickers, you've
come back again, you see, When will
you learn sense, Ell? Where are your
matesP
Dead" says Gabbett
why don't you eat your gruel?"
Il have eaten it, Amt yer got nuf-
fin better nor that to fog a man on?
Ugh! yer a mean lot! Wot's it to be
this time, major? Fifty?"
"A nice specimen" said Vickers. with
a hopeless smile What can one do
with such a fellow?"
"I'd fog his soul out Of his body"
said Frere, ''if he spoke to me like
that"
The giant raised his great head and
looked at the speaker, but did not rec
ognize him. He saw only a strange
face-a visitor, perhaps. "You may
fog, and welcome, master" said he
IF you'll give me a fig o. tibbacky."
Frere laughed. The brutal Indifference
of the rejoinder suited his humor, and,
with glance at Vickers, he took a
small piece of cavendish from the peck
ct of his pea jacket, and gave to the
recaptured convict. Gabbett snatched
1t as cur snatches at bone, and
thrust it whole into his mouth.
How many mates had hep asked
Maurice, watching the champing jaws
as one looks at atstrange animal, and
asking the question as though a mate"
was something a convict was born with
like a mole, for instance.
"Three, sir"
Three, Ell? Well, give him thirty
lashes, Vickers"
And If ha' had three more" growl-
ed Gabbett. mumbling at his tobacco,
you wouldn't ha' had the chance"
As he sat there gloomily chewing, he
was a spectacle to shudder at. Not so
g L
ness, increased a thOusandfold by the
tattered and filthy rags which barely
covered him. Not so much on account
of his unshaven jaws, his hare-lip his
torn and bleeding feet, his haggard
cheeks, and his huge, wasted frame.
Not only because, looking at the animal,
as he crouched, with one foot curled
round the other, and one hairy arm
pendent between his knees. he was SO
horribly unhuman, that one shuddered to
think that tender women and fair chill
dren must, Of necessity, confess to fell
lowship of kind with such monster.
But also because, in his slavering mouth,
his slowly grinding jaws, his restless
fingers, and his bloodshot, wandering
eyes, there lurked a hint of some terror
more awful than the terror of starvation
IA memory of a tragedy played out in
the gloomy depths of that forest which
had vomited him forth again-and the
shadow of this unknown horror, cling
ing to him, repealed, as though he bore
about with him the reek of the sham
bles.
Come" said Vickers, 'let us go back.
/ shall have to fog him again, sup
pose. Oh, this place No wonder they
call it 'Hells Gates"
"Halloo! what's that red light thereY"
Dawes fire on Grummet Rock"
says Vickers, going In; ''the man l told
you about"
Two or three mornings altar +ha -