The L'Anse sentinel. (L'Anse, L.S., Mich.) 18??-current, 1914-01-24

/ Il. EEre. lie BtoCd uncovered, ana
while his ears froze. spelled his name
to me, explaining that there were two
syllables In "Eure" with accent ON the
first. He seemed to convey an offer
Of protection. to claim my friendship,
to take charge OF my affairs. and with
perfect modesty to let me know that
he was competent.
/ He presented his assistant, led me
! to the sleigh, showed Billy where to
I stow the luggage, tucked me into some
warm f,lrs. congratulated me on es-
Gaping the local hotels, then bidding
my man and his own to jump in, took
the reins and asked which way we
| were going. l served as pilot along a
trail Of poignant memories.
We slept that night at Hat Creek
station, where fearful George proved
a most kindly host. He told me Of a
loaded sleigh which had passed last
| week on the way to Jesse's ranch. The
| teamster was Iron Dale. SO far had
wondered whether my name was
changing letter by letter from Madame
Scotson into Mrs. Grumble, but now
the scent Of the pines brought ease
of mind, and in the great calm of the
wilderness one is ashamed to fret.
Our next march brought US rather
late for the midday dinner to Fifty
Nine Mile House. which marks the
summit of the long climb from Ash
croft to the edge of the black pines.
We drove on, freezing, and right
glad | was to be welcomed with all
the rudy warmth and kindly cheer of
Eighty Mile House. There we had
tea, and secured fresh horses for the
last stage of our journey. learned
also that the driver intrusted by the
Hudson's Bay Company with provi-
sions for Hundred Mile House had
gone off with the team, leaving his
sleigh still loaded in Captain Taylor's
yard.
The malign bush seemed cowed by
sheer immensely of glittering star
light as we drove on. Only once ven
tured to speak. asking Mr.. Eure to
look out for Ninety-Mile House.
Horses accustomed to bait there would
try to stop. did not want to stop.
He nodded assent, and, croached
down beside him, waited until
brave red warmth sbone out across
the snow from all the lighted win
dows of Spite House. Mr.. Eure lash
we had passed into the night again.
Presently We crossed the little shaky
bridge over Hundred Mile Creek,
then swung to the left into Captain
Taylor's card. While Tom. the as
sistant, stabbed the team, Mr.. Eure and
Billy got snow shovels from the barn,
and hewed out a way to the deep
building Presently the Chinese serv-
ant let US in, and ! made my way
through the barroom and dining. hall
to that far door on the right. How
changed was the grand old Hundred
since days, only five years ago, OF
pompous assizes. banquets, dances.
when these rooms overlooked with
light warmth. and comfort, now dark,
in Arctic cold. in haunted silence!
crept into the captains room, where,
in an armchair beside the stove, the
old man lay. knelt beside him. TAX
ing his dreadfully swollen hand.
Dear wife," he Iauttered, whose
wife must have been dead full forty
years. this hulk is going to be laid
up soon, in Rotten Row. Can't all of
us founder in action"
| ran away. But there was much
to be done. fires, lights, supper, beds.
and the unloading OF the sleigh full
of hospital comforts, which would set
my patient great deal more at ease.
When l left my patient, very late
that night, supposing all lucky people
to be in bed. found M. Eure making
himself some tea. Gladly joined
him beside the kitchen stove, ever SO
pleased with its warmth and the tea,
for was weary. past all hope of any
sleep. Besides, the poor man was
just dying with curiosity rs to our
journey and his engagement as my en-
gineer. SO, for that one and only
time l told the story OF Jesse's fate,
and mine.
And then ! tried to explain the
scheme which needed his services as
an engineer
Let's see.' he checked my rambling
statement. TRY IL I've got all that
correct. This Cariboo wagon road
runs from Ashcroft to Quesnelle, due
north, except at one point where the
government wouldn't pay for a bridge ]
across the Hundred Mile gorge.
so at the ninety-five mile post the
road swings eastward five miles. pass
ing Spite House to the head of the |
gorge. wnere 1t crosses Hundred Mile
Creek right here
Z som here the road turns west |
again on the north side of the gorge,
and after one mile or me leve. drops
Gown the Hundred Mile Hin, which
Is three miles high. and terror to
AT the bottom the road turns north
again for Quesnelle. at a cabin called
the One Hundred and Four where old
Pete Mathson lives. a hairy little per.
son. like a Skye terrier with faith
full heart.
And said Mathson has blazed cut
OF. crossing the foot OF the gorge, then
climbing by an easy grade to the