Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1916-03-21
The Mania
! Weird Story Of a Man
Who Must Move On.
sssssssssssssssssssssssssS
By F. A. mitchell

west and settled In Atchison, Kan.
That was just after the close Of the
war between the states, and the Kan
sas 1ayhawkers, as the proslayery men
were called. were settling down to
peaceful pursuits. confess I was Of
q wandering disposition. Not satisfied
to remain In Atchison, went to To
peka. But was not satisfied there ei-
ther and concluded to 90 down to San
ta Fe, N. N. It was on this trip that
I received a shock that sent me back
to my home In Ohio, where I have
lived ever since, my desire for wander
ing about the land having been entire
ly eradicated.
could have gone south In stage
coach, but there was money to be
made In those days In shipping goods
into the heart Of New Mexico, and I
determined to take stock Of house
hold articles with me over the freight
ing road of the period. I concluded
to outfit at Denver and went there for
the purpose. had money and credit
together to buy three wagons. with the
teams to haul them, and hired two
men.
hadn't been out q week when one
Of the men took sick and died sudden
ly. This left me short handed. Then
one Of my wagons broke down, and I
was obliged to leave 1t at a ranch on
the way. In crossing the BIO Grande
my second wagon went over ledge Of
rock ON the river bottom and was
total loss, the man driving It being
drowned I had pluck enough to 30
on with the remaining wagon, and II
It had not been for what I'm going to
tell you I might have continued to be
a wanderer to the present day.
One evening l camped on the bank
Of the Rio Grande. There was
branch wagon road running for a
short distance parallel with the road
I was on and half mile away. had
fed my stock, eaten my supper and
was smoking my pipe. feeling mighty
lonesome. The night had come on, and
there was a moon, three quarters full,
shining through a dreary, misty atmos-
phere.
It was the kind Of night to bring on
depression Of spirits, and felt such
depression stealing over me. My ef-
forts to throw 1t OF were in vain. Oh,
why, asked myself, did leave a
comfortable home to camp alone In
such q dead place? I felt that l was
In a wise from which could not es-
cape. I had been born wanderer,
would live a wanderer, would die
wanderer.
While I was sitting there trying to
keep up my spirits by pulling Justify on
my pipe-for the glow Of the burning
tobacco was the only cheerful thing
about-I heard the creaking of wag-
on, which seemed to come from the
other road. ! listened, and, sure
enough, there was that familiar creak,
only In this case 1t was more pro-
nounced than I had ever heard It, as
though every stick Of timber, every
hub, every spoke, was loose.
Then I heard something else that
was even far more dismal than the
wagon creak. It was a woman's voice
trying to get the team onward, and I
judged that she was having hard
time doing 1t, for presently she broke
down, and could hear that she was
crying.
At this I got right up OF the box I
was sitting on and Lit out In the direc-
ton the sounds came from. After
passing through low growth Of brush
emerged upon the other road, and
there was q wagon standing stock still,
one hind wheel in hole up to the hub.
It was the sorriest looking vehicle /
ever saw. Every bit Of paint had been
worn or washed of It, and the cover
was rotten and full Of holes, the whole
looking as If 1t were ready to fall to
pieces. There were two horses har-
messed to 1t, both emaciated, most Of
the leather having been replaced with
rope. I didn't see any human being
about till. hearing a moan, I looked on
the other side Of the road, and there,
sitting on a stump, was woman-a
young woman apparently, though since
her face was covered with her hands
couldn't tell her age.
"Cheer up, young woman" I said.
"I'm ready to help you. What are you
dotng here alone without man, driv-
| ing a team and wagon at this ttme Of
nightr
The only reply I received was q
moan. I went to her and took her
hands from her face and looked down
ON II. It was very sweet, but very
melancholy. In the faded cheeks !
could discern traces Of beauty. Beauty.
there was In pair Of fiaring eyes,
though there was something uncanny
about them. The hands took In
mine were icy, but the night was chill.
and the poor girl was thinly clad. In
deed, her apparel corresponded with
| the rest Of the outfit.
was so moved by the pitiful sight
| that I put an arm about her. She let
her head fall upon my shoulder and
wept afresh
desired to comfort her, but her
sobs did not cease, and continued to
clasp form Of marble. Her face was
toward mine. but I felt no breath.
Notwithstanding her pitiful condi-
tion I could but wonder what In
the world a girl who could not have
been more than nineteen years old
could be doing in such peculiar sftua-
don. It struck me that was myself
lin the midst Of something weird There
were the horses, skin and bone, their
heads hanging low; the broken down
wagon, dim In the mist while was
caressing weeping girl on the road
aide.
Come" I said to her; "let me at
least try to help you. Ten me your
/ troubles"
She looked up at me through those
eyes Of hers, 20 black that they were
i the only thing about me clearly visible
IN the dull light Of the moon, and for
the nrst time In my life I realised
what b meant by the word despair.
that condition wherein the last shred
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