Lincoln County leader. [volume] (Toledo, Lincoln County, Or.) 1893-1987, 1908-12-04

point, b stay behind with the nuies A
little later, when the growing from the
prone upturned face of the great beast
suddenly arose to a roar that twisted the
flesh and outraged the senses of man,
the American looked back and found that
only one native was faltering behind, in-
stead of three.
Fascination for the dying Thing took
hold of him now, and drew him on. Con-
stable was conscious of no fear for his
life, but of a fixed terror lest he should
prove physically unable to go on to the
end. He found himself tearing up a
handkerchief and stuffing the shreds in
his ears, to deaden the horrid vibrations.
With the linen remaining he filled his
mouth, shutting his jaws together upon it,
as the wheels of wagon are blocked on
an incline.
The titanic disorder placated his own.
He revelled in it, unconscious of passing
time. He did not realize that he was
alone, but knew well from the contour
of the slope, learned intimately in past
visits, that he was nearing the Lac des
Palmists, which marked the summit level.
where evidenced. The shoulder of the
mountain was smeared with a crust Of
ash and scanned with fresh scars. The
crust was made by the dry whring winds
playing upon the paste formed of stone
dust and condensed steam. The clicking
whir, like the clap of wings, heard at
intervals, accounted for the scars. Bombs
of rock were being hurled from the great
tubes.
That he was in the range of a raking
volcano fire did not impress this ant
clinging to the beard of a giant Up,
knees and hands, he crawled-up over the
throbbing chin, to the black pounded lip
of the monster. Out of the old lake coiled
the furious tower of steam and rock dust
which mushroomed in high air like the
primal nebule from which the worlds
were made. Pockets of gas exploded in
the heights, rending the periphery as the
veil of the temple was rent. Only this
to see, but sounds not meant for the ears
of man, sounds which seemed to saw his
skull in twain-the laundering engines
of the planet.
The rocky rim of the lake was hot to
his hands and knees but he could not go
back. A thought in his brain held him
there with thrilling bands-the same
thought which Hayden Breen evolved as
he stood at the edge of the Brooklyn
pier. But it was only play
thing of mind-the vagary of altitude and
| immensity. did ever a man clog live
volcano? Did ever suicidal genius con-
ceive of corrupting such majesty of force
with his pygmy purposeW The
irreverent query rghted the balances.
There he lay, sprawled at the edge OF
the universal mystery, at the secret en-
trance to the chamber of >arth's dyna-
mos. The edge of the pit shook with the
frightful work going on below, yet he was
not slain. The torrent burst past and
upward, clean as a missing bullet. The
bombs of rock canted out from sheer
weight and fell behind him. That which
he compreehnded- although his eyes saw
only the gray laundering cataclysm-was
never before imagined in the mind Of
man.
The gray backened. The roar dwin
died, and his senses reeled. With a rush
of saliva the linen dropped from his open
mouth Constable was sure that there
was a gaping cleft in his skull, for he
could feel the air blowing in and out, cold
and colder. He tried to lift has hands
to cover the sensitive wound. but they
groped in vain for his head. With the
icy draughts of air, he seemed to hear,
family, his name falling upon the barred
ganglion.
Peter Peter Constable"
He strained his face toward the souno.
The lower part of his body would not
move. He was uncoupled, like beast
whose spine is broken.
peter! Oh, Peter Constable J" he
heard again.
Go be continued)