Essex County herald. [volume] (Guildhall, Vt.) 1873-1964, 1912-06-28
CHAPTER VIII.
The Wilderness Cabin.

The light was considerably farther
away than they had at first supposed,
and as they advanced steadily toward
1t, the nature Of the ground rapidly
changed, becoming irregular, and lit
Sered with low growing shrubs. In
the darkness they stumbled over out
broppings of rock, and after fall or
two. were compelled to move forward
with extreme caution. But the mys-
ferrous yellow glow continually beck
oned. and with new hope animating
the hearts Of both men, they staggered
on, ~herving themselves to the effort,
and following closely along the bank
of the stream.
At last they arrived where they
could perceive dimly something Of the
nature of this unexpected desert oasis.
The light shone forth, piercing the
night, through the uncurtained window
of log cabin, which would otherwise
have been completely concealed from
view by group Of low growing cot
'tonwoods. This was all the black, en-
shrouding night revealed, and even
this was merely made apparent by the
yellow illumination of the window.
The cabin stood upon an island
strip Of sand, partially covered by wa
ter, separating 1t from the north shore
on which they stood. There was no
sign OF life about the hut, other than
the burning lamp, but that alone was
sufficient evidence of occupancy. In
spite of hunger, and urgent need, Keith
hesitated, uncertain as to what they
might be called upon to face. Who
could be living In this out-ofthe-way
spot, in the heart of this inhospitable
desert? 1t would be no cattle out
post surely, for there was no surround
ing grazing land, while surely no pro-
fessional hunter would choose such
barren spot for headquarters. Either
hermit, anxious to escape all inter
course with humanity, or some outlaw
hiding from arrest, would be likely to
select SO isolated a place in which to
live To them 1t would be IDEAL Away
FROM all trails, where not even widely
rowing cattlemen would penetrate, in
midst of a desert avoided by Indians
because Of lack of game-a man might
hide here year after year without
danger of discovery. Yet such a one
would not be likely to welcome their
coming, and they were without arms.
But Keith was not man to hesitate
long because Of possible danger, and
he stepped down into the shallow wa
ter.
Come on, Neb," he commanded.
Aand We'll find out who lives here"
The window faced the west, and he
came up the low bank to where the
door fronted the north in intense
darkness. Under the shadow of the
cottonwoods he could see nothing,
cropping his way, with hands extended.
His foot struck a fiat stone, and he
plunged forward, striking the unlatch-
ed door SO heavily as to swing 1t open,
and fell partially forward into the
room. AS he struggled to his knees,
Neb's black face peering past him into
the lighted interior, he seemed to per-
ceive in one swift, comprehensive
glance, every revealed detail A lamp
burned on rudely constructed set of
drawers near the window, and wood
Gre blazed redly In a stone fireplace
opposite, the yellow and red lights
blending in peculiar glow of color
Under this radiance were revealed the
rough log walls plastered with yellow
clay, and hung about with the skins
Of wild animals, roughly made table,
bare except for book lying upon it.
and few ordinary appearing boxes,
evidently utilized as seats; together
with barrel cut SO as to make COM
Portable chair. In the back wall was
door, partially open, apparently
leading into second room. That was
ALL except the woman.
Keith must have perceived all these
tn that first hurried glance, for they
were ever after closely associated to-
Bether in his mind, yet at the moment
he possessed no clear thought of any
thing except her. She stood directly
behind the table, where she must have
sprung hastily at the first sound of
their approach, clutching at the rude
mantel above the fireplace, and staring
toward him, her face white, her breath
coming In sobs. At first he thought
the vision a dream, delirium born
from his long struggle; he could not
conceive the possibility of such pres
ence In this lonely place. and stagger-
Ing to his feet, gazed wildly, dumbly