Charlevoix county herald., 1909-12-18

can see him, whatever his name may
have been, coming upon just this
place, as we have after him. Perhaps
he greeted wi joy, or maybe he
prayed, or maybe he swore. 'Tis all
one-now. He began his boys pickin'
and scrapin' among the rocks, and
made his untidy camp on this ledge.
Haven't we seen many and more O
such slovenly, pitiful, tenderfoot
camps?
He scraped and scratched among
the rocks, his heart fair burstin' wi
joy, maybe, two, three, even four
days. Ye can tell by the size O. the
hole, though it's part filled up now
! through the wash o. the weather.
And then one night he flung his pick
down, maybe, and went and stood on
the brink O. this very ledge, lookin'
out upon the hills, before he got his
supper.
| Perhaps twas just such night as
this, with a round moon ridin' clear,
and the chasm all one white fat sea
o cloud. Perhaps, as he stood there,
stretchin his stiff arms proudly, astone
caught him between the shoulders, a
stone thrown from the hand O. that
wolf-shadow that had followed him
and whirled him outwards from the
ledge, as the storm whirls a bird from
its cliff-nest. l seem to see that black
whirlin' shape rushin' down, down,
down-a vast sprawlin' shadow out
spread upon the floor of cloud be-
meath. l seem to see the shape and
it's shadow rushin' together, CROWN
smaller, becomin' one; and no more.
For that chasm, sirs, would take the
whole tragedy, WI little but faint
stir / that green fur o. pines, so far
below"
Urquhart looked out at the chasm,
a pot of silently bubbling pearl be-
meath the moon, and shuddered. Taya
whined again. God rest his soul"
said Ellsworth softly.
"But does it rest?" whispered Mac.
avoy. His eyes glittered strangely in
the red glow of the fire. Does it
rest?
II cannot see that wolf-shadow who
followed him, whose hand sent him in
to eternity, very clear. But do know
that the Siwash got no payment for
his crime. He never stayed to take
any.
when came upon this place near.
ly three years agone, l found the
wreck of a little tent on this very
ledge. No, not here, Mister Urquhart.
at l. other end where yon big rock
slopes down. 1t was battered by Il
winters weather, but by the snow, We
understand. l read the signs of 1t.
1t had tenderfoot for owner, by the
truck in it. Such truck We never see,
chiefly in bottles. l mind there was
chlorodyne, ammoniated quinine, plain
ammonia, and whisky-good whisky.
Aye, had the bottles to my nose, and
besides there were the labels. But
they were all empty, and flung about
in muddle o. rotted blanket Taya
had 'em to her nose, and growled,
readin' more than 1. "Siwash, old
lass?' I says to her, and she growls
again. Some unclean thing had nest
ed in that tent, drunk all them mixed
liquors, and then gone, as If in fright,
touchin' no more-not even some bits
O. gold in little brown canvas bag.
There was that about the matter
that weighed upon me so that / sent
all the tent and everythin' in it over
the rocks there. I'd seen the pick
on the hillside, and by this and that
I'd read the story plain. We'd lived
among cleaner, kinder things, me and
Taya, and we'd no mind to NEEDLE wi
gold which had that shadow on it.
Well make enough out of it by
tellin' other folks l says to Taya,
well have no finger in this pie, old
lass. 'Tis cursed from the beginnin'
"The mornin" came up clear be-
hind Tsalekulhye, and Taya and I
went our ways. We carried the Sc
cret o. the gold with us-and more
than that, more than that. had
heard. Taya, maybe, had both seen
and heard, for she looked at me wi
her yellow eyes and tried to tell me
what she knew. Aye, as the gold had
drawn that poor fool, Twin, so it drew
him, dead"
He paused, and again one of the
restless ponies whickered in the 81.
lence.
do you mean that He-Who Isl Not
'walks?'" asked Ellsworth at last,
bluntly.
Macavoy nodded slowly. II have
not seen, We understand" he an.
swered, 81 only hear. But l know
that He-Who-Is-Not finds no rest"
Poor fool" said Urquhart softly,
poor young fool. You're sorry for
him, eh, Norma Lisa?"
The dog looked across the fire to
the black slope above where the stars
hung in splendor above the last faint
crest of snow. Urquhart followed her
gaze, budding deeper into his blanket.
"But-but don't see" began Dals.
| worth argumentatively.
Then iisten,' said Macavoy, list.