The Daily Ardmoreite. [volume] (Ardmore, Okla.) 1893-current, 1911-01-22


made, cause don't know what
| can get for him"
You mern for your claim"
NO, my mammoth"
Il beg your pardon, said Hat,
field, stiffly.
My mammoth, | mined him."
Nov, my good man, know
what mammoth is. He's kind
of elephant, or he was. They grew
animals, ye' know"
Sure Sure!" agreed the stran-
ger, but / mined this one. Don't
believe it, eh? Well I'm giving
it to you straight
He bent his countenance on Hat
field and lucent clarity shone there
from. In his speculative gaze lurk-
| ed memories of strange adventure,
and the New Yorker felt himself
on the verge of interests new and
thrilling.
Hold on, | want the others to
hear this. Van, Come over here
Agnes All of YOU This man is
going to tell how he found a mann
moth. Fancy"
Mrs. Hatfield scanned the stran-
ger coldly through her glasses. AS
sured by the limpid candor in his
face, she addressed herself past
him.
I'VE would enjoy hearing it, I'm
sure"
Fits struck Out boldly into the
flood of narrative.
Il Was in Sitka about year
ago-broke. one day / sat on the
wharf sOpping up sunshine and
emitting a cloud of regrets, when
heard two prospectors talking.
u averaged two ounces day
reg lar says one, but | couldn't
stand it more'n week. 1t was aw-
ful! / tore out
Right for you says the other,
I need money bad myself, but |
won't work in a hole like that.
When she killed Jim / pulled my
freight too. Just buried him up on
the hill with the rest
Il began to show signs of return
ing spring.
" Excuse me, pardners,' / says,
but what's the name of the lady
you are alluding at?'
She's no lady, one of them an
swers, she's the Kayak Glacier.
Come again, please says |, ad-
vance slowly. Being a stranger, the
idioms of this vicinity is Scotch di-
alect to me-
We been mining at the Kayak
Glacier, but we happened to get
away before she laid down on us
she killed my pardner, though
Then, prodded along by inches,
they enlivened the solitude by these
humorous details.
Five hundred miles west, bay
lodges back into the saw-teeth, and
at its head the Kuyak winds down
through the mountains, a living riv-
er of ice; always a-gritting and
grinding along to the sea
in the sand at her feet is much
gold, ground out from the lodges
above. One summer a miner panned
among the boulders and straighta-
way built IA cabin on her flank.
In the summer heat the Kayak
shakes her head; humps of ice fall
off like dandruff and the noise of
the dropping bergs is like the burst
ing of cannon.
This man had the gold frenzy
on him, and he worked under the
brow of the ice-cliff, digging, dig
ging. Needless of the icy rain from
above. His rifles clogged heavy and
yellow-and he worked madly.
Two months later a trapper found
the skeleton broken and crushed,
half buried under the sluces. He
also found the buckskin bag at the
cabin. and the sight of its contents
the Kayak madness entered into
him RESET ng the boxes, he dug
in the dead mans tracks, cringing
at the roar of the splintering ice.
she caught him one day half
way out of the cabin, a cleanup
in his hands-and for a year no
man neared the lonesome spot. But
the news got out and men began
to stake their lives against her
sands A few came out unscathed
and laden with gold. They never
lSegS@&