Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1908-05-20

below was the real danger-pOlnt, Tor
to go straight ahead meant to hurtle
out into the open pasture, sloping
steeply at an angle of almost forty
degrees, with the limestone quarry at
it's foot But so far there had been
little difficulty in steering, for tho
center of the roadway was now a
smooth hollow, as if transformed by
nature into a scientific speedway.
Now he was two hundred rods from
the turn, and making the first bend.
What was that ahead, directly in the
path? Tom gave a mighty yell. An
old bobcat, veteran of the noun
tain, had started to lOpe across the
open way from thicket to thicket, and
had paused to survey the valley at
his feet, with his back toward a dan
ger he could not possibly foresee.
Hearing Toms shout, he glanced over
his shoulder, arched his back, and
leaped straight in air as the flying
sled came upon him.
Beneath that whirlwind of vibrat-
ing, dagger-like claws, Tom threw
himself fiat on his face, his leg rising
to receive vicious stab as the wild
cat caromed off, turned a somersault,
and dashed away up the mountain
side, splitting and growing.
Then, in only fraction of the time
required to tell of it, the lad felt
briers and bushers tearing at his
head and shoulders, and next shot out
into the treeless pasture, headed
straight for the quarry a half-mlle
away. Owing to the interference OF
the frightened cat, he had stopped
steering, had failed to make the turn,
and was now rushing headlong toward
the very peril he had planned from
the start to avoid.
His first impulse was to roll off the
sled, but on that icy slope he knew
that he could not check himself, but
would fall straight down and over the
ledge of rocks. So, instead, he dug
his left toe into the hard surface, and
strove to edge away, so as to clear the
farther corner of the quarry and en-
ter a ravine that made off from the
pasture to the southeast. Such a
course was bad enough, but infinitely
to be preferred to a sheer fall of
fifty feet upon the conical roofs of
the kilns.
Any one who has ever tried to steer
a sled diagonally across steep and
slippery slope knows the difficulty in
volved and in Toms case it was in
creased a hundred per cent. by the
terrific speed with which he had en-
tered the pasture. In a second he
turned the sled in the right direction,
but it slued so violently as nearly to
throw him off.
He bore down with half his weight
till the leather was worn through on
the toe of his extended foot. Thus
he worked his way across two-thirds
of the upper face of the quarry, but
a fall into its farther corned seemed
inevitable. Two or three seconds
would now decide his fate.
The pasture, although cleared years
before, was far from being perfectly
smooth. Here and there an old
stump protruded from the snow, but
they were minor dangers, which Tom
could do nothing to avoid. Twice, by
what seemed almost miracle, he
shot past scraggly monsters that
would have fatally injured him had
he stuck them squarely; and then, as
he was almost upon, although nearly
past, the quarry, the sled ran into the
deep hollow caused by an overturned
tree of long ago.
1t was hardly ten feet above the
yawning chasm. The shock turned
the sled half on its side, but it right
ed against the snow-padded roots, the
sluing was checked, and Tom flew by
the corner of the quarry, so close to
it that he caught glimpse of the bot
tom.
In five seconds he was humping
down the ravine. This was no cleared
road, but a narrow gorge so cluttered
with huge stones and bushes that he
could not have gone a dozen feet and
lived but for the deep mantle of
snow.
Branches whipped his face and
twigs tore at his homespun clothing.
Fortunate was it that grandsir had
built the sled of stoutest seasoned
hickory, seemingly twice as heavy as
was necessary, and that the years
had not distracted appreciably from its
strength, for never was sled subjected
to harder test. Tom hung on grim.
ly. waiting for the end.
The ravine, two hundred yards down
the mountain, made a sharp turn to
the right. The sled ran straight at
the slope ahead, mounted it for a
score of feet, turned over, and its
rider was pitched off sidewise, falling
to the bottom, where he lay uncon-
scious for half-hour.
At nightfall, a ragged lad, with
bIood-smeared hands and face, limped
painfully into Bent's Corners, drag
ging a battered but still serviceable
sled.
Old Doctor Phillips patched him up,