Lincoln County times. (Jerome, Idaho) 1911-1919, 1917-08-16

~ --s~~ s'HA tNi - PohaiJ ~ 49, 49,
swift grasp his muscles and sinews,
fought the stout flow of blood through
his veins, and searched his very heart
TO still it,
Encouraging the Lady with kind
words, and caresslng her in her CROP
Ing efforts as she turned head and tail
from the binding sheets of snow and
Ice. De Spain let her drift. hoping she
might bring them through. what he
confessed in his heart to be, the mar
rowest of chances.
He bent low in his saddle under the
amending blasts. He buffeted his legs
and arms To fight off the fatal cold. He
Slipped more than once from his seat,
and with a hand on the pommel
tramped beside the horse to revive his
failing circulation, there would come
a time, he realized. when he could no
longer climb up again, but he STAYED
that issue off to the last possible mo-
ment of endurance, because the Lady
made better time when he was on her
back. When the struggle to remount
had been repeated until nature could
no longer by any staggering effort be
made to respond to his will, until his
legs were no longer part of his be-
pumbed being-until below his hips he
had no body answerable to his COM
mands. but only two insensible lSasses
Of lead that anchored him TO the
ground-he still forced the frozen feet
to carry him. in feeble monstrous
gait beside the Lady. while he dragged
with his hands on the saddle for her
patient aid
One by one every thought, as if con-
gealed in their brain cells, deserted his
mind-save the thought that he must
not freeze to death. More than once
he had hoped the insensate fury of the
blizzard might abate. The Lady had
long since ceased to try to face it
like stripped vessel before hurri-
cane, she was drifting under it. De
Spain realized that his helpless legs
would not carry him farther His
hands, freezing to the pommel, no
longer supported him. They finally
slipped from it and he fell PROSTATE in
the snow beside his horse. When he
would cry out to her his frozen lips
could humble no words. 1t was the
fight no longer of man against ma
ture, but only of an indomitable soul
against cruel, hateful death. He
struggled to his feet only to fall again
more heavily. He pulled himself up
this time by the stirrup strap. got his
hands and arms up to the pommel, and
chung to 1t for a few PAGES more. But
he fell at last, and could no longer rise
from the ground. The storm swept un-
ceasingly on.
The Lady, checked by the lines
wrapped on his arm, stopped. De
Spain lay moment, then backed her
up step, pulled her head down by
the bride, clasped his wooden arms
around her neck, spoke to her, and,
lifting her head. the mare dragged him
to his feet. Clumsily and helplessly
he loOsened the tugs and the whiffie-
tree, beat his hands together with Idi-
otto effort, hooked the middle point
of the whlffietree into the elbow of his
left arm, brought the forearm and
hand against his shoulder and with
the hitching strap dashed his forearm
and upper arm tightly together around
the whiffietree.
He drew the tugs stiffly over the
Lady's back, unloosed the cinches of
the saddle. pushed 1t off the horse and,
sinking into the snow behind her,
struck with his free arm at her feet.
Relieved of the saddle, the Lady once
more started, dragging slowly behind
her through the snow still breathing
human being. Less than an hour be-
fore 1t had been man. 1t was hardly
more now. as the Lady plodded on,
than an insensate log. But not even
death could part it again from the
horse to which De Spain, alive, had
fastened 1t.
The fearful pain from the tortured
arm, torn at times almost from its
socket, the gradual swapping of strain
ing ligaments, the constant rupture of
capillaries and veins sustained his
consciousness for while. Then the
torturing pain abated, the rough drag
| ging shattered the bruised body less.
1t was as If the Lady and the storm
together were making easier for the
slowly dying man his last trail across
the desert. He still struggled to keep
alive, by sheer will power, Pickering
' sparks of consciousness, and to do so
concentrated every thought on Man. 1t
was poignant happiness to summon
her picture TO his fainting senses; he
knew he should hold to life as long
as he could think Of her. Love,
stronger than death. welled in his
heart. The bitter cold and the merci-
less wind were kinder as he called her
image from out of the storm. She
seemed to speak-to lift him on her
arms. Ahead, distant mountains rose,
white-peaked. The sun shone. He
rode with her through green fields, and
great peace rested on his weary
senses.
Lady Jane, pushing on and on, en-
1fohtenad hv thot instinct hafora rrbfcb