The Wisconsin tobacco reporter. (Edgerton, Wis.) 1877-1950, 1913-12-19
s.l.lITI F,
FORTY 1.-TWO"
By Nj. QUAD
Copyright. 1918. by Associated Liz
erary Press.
By Nj. QUAD

lldL one HOfIlInS we I)dckeu UP. Day
and baggage, to the last man. and set
bff down the trail in search of some
thing better. l we'll remember-it was
IA hot July day, and there were exactly
lforty-One of us.
4 Seven miles down the trail we came
to what was then called Uncle J0e's
road, and right at the intersection was
where the surprise hit u.s. An immi-
grant family had strayed from tbs
main party for some reason which we
never aScertained, and right ut the
crossing they had been attacked by IN
dams. The wagon broke down there.
and there the pioneer made his defense
and fired his last shot. That he was
game we needed no other proof than
that visible to our eyes
The family had consisted of five per
sons and there they lay, hacked, cut,
shot. and Il shocking spectacle under
that bright sun and birds singing
around us. 1t was a horrible heap
which we surrounded, and for q min
ute 10 one spoke. Then the astonish-
ment and horror of the men brought
forth deep and angry EXPLANATIONS,
and amid the rumpus Uncle Ben Tur-
ner suddenly called out:
"Stand back-stand back! Here's a
live young un!"
There was for q fact. Half hidden
under the torn and blood stained gar
ments of it's dead mother was a boy
about two years old. What could we
do with him?
We had no kisses, no pet words no
dainties nor little clothes. We looked
from the baby to each other and
scratched our heads, and no man knew
what another man thought until finally
Uncle Ben called out:
Boys, it's a token of, good luck. If
this here what dye call it don't bring
us a rich find then we've all forgot our
homes and wives and children"
That's what we were all waiting for.
Up went our hats, cheers made the
rocks echo and the little toddler was
one of us-One of fOrty-twO.
When we were ready to go he stood
in the circle. screaming out as we
coaxed him in turn, but when old Ben
finally advanced the young cub held up
his arms and nestled against his shout
der as if he had found his own true
father. [ believe the rest of us were
a bit jealous. but we were also help
less. Ben had a kind. fatherly face,
quiet voice. and the boy had only to
look into his eyes to trust him.
AS to the luck. the old man was
right. Four miles farther down the
trail the boy pointed to some flowers
growing off to the right, and right
there we halted and founded what was
known for years as Lost Boy Diggings.
1T was the richest spot for fifty miles
around. and all on account of Little
Forty-twO." as we called the yOungster.
AS to the boy himself, he took to old
Ben in such a way that they could
not be separated.
If Ben wanted kiss he got dozen,
and all the gold in California wouldn't
have bribed the boy off his knee. AT
night his arm was the child'S pillow.
and the slightest move of the young
ster brought the old mans eyes open.
You might have expected that Little
Forty-twO" would die on our hands,
living as we did, but he never had a
moments sickness. Old Ben had a
way of preparing nourishing dishes
out of our coarse provisions. and from
the clothing found with the wagon
he was kept comfortably clad. Old
Ben was no dressmaker. and the boy
would have looked Queerly dressed in
the States, but as long as he was COM
Portable we didn't care for looks.
Little FOrty-twO' had been with us
thirteen months and was to our figur-
ing little over three years old when
some of the men who had made their
stakes announced their intention Of
going home. Then the question arose,
Whose boy is our boy? 1t was q
stumper Each man felt that he own
ed share in the little chap, and each
man would have been glad to take him
home. We argued and discussed with
out avail. and old UNCLE Ben sat there
SAYING never word. but his face was
as white as chalk. Little FOrty-twO"
belonged to the old man in every sense,
but | believe there would have been
some trouble if fate hadn't come stalk
ing up the rocky trail and halted at
our diggings.
This was the way of it: Some were
packing up and some using the pick
and bar. and down near the creek
powder was being used to blast the
ledge. 1t was about 10 o'clock i'll the
morning, and a blast had been pre-
pared and the fuse lighted when from
our retreat. full ten rods away, we
suddenly saw Little FOrty-twO" turn
the thicket and run straight for the
blast He was laughing and shout
ing, having been playing tag with
Uncle Ben. We sprang up and shouted
and screamed, and the boy halted with
in ten feet of the blast and waved his
cap at us. Next instant he was hid
den in the dust and smoke. and when
we reached him some of the men sat
down and covered their faces. He was
dead