The Bienville Democrat. [volume] (Arcadia, Bienville Parish, La.) 1912-1980, 1922-11-16

h0ie, Where II kept the sizes IRON
caving In and allowed the water to
seep through. While Cameron watched,
the basket filled. OF all tie strange
Incidents of his desert career this was
the strangest. Curlously he picked up |
the peach branch and held 1t as he |
had seen 1t held. The thing, how.
ever, was dead in his hands.
II see you haven't got it, remarked
his cOmrade. "Few men have. Back
In Illinois an old German used to do
that to locate wells. He showed me
! had the same power. l can't ex.
plain. The old German spoke Of
made money travelling round with his
peach fork"
What a gift for a man in the des'
ert."
Cameron's cOmrade smiled-the Sec
ond time in all those days.
They entered a region where min
eral abounded, and their march be.
came slower. Generally they took the
course of a wash, one on each side,
and let the burrOs travel lelsurely
along nipping at the bleaChed blades
Of scant grass, or at sage or cactus,
while they searched IN the cAnOns and
under the lodges for signs of gold.
Each succeeding day and night
Cameron felt himself more and more
drawn to this strange man. He found
that after hours of burning toll he had
lnsenslbly grown nearer to his COM
rade. He reflected that after a few
weeks in the desert he had always
become a different man. In civiliza'
| ton, In the rough mining camps, he
had been a prey TO unrest and gloom.
But once down on the great hill0wing
sweep of this lonely world, he could
look into his unqulet soul without bit
terness. SO now he did not marvel at
a slow stir stealing warmer along his
veins, and at the premOnitlon that per-
haps he and this man, alone on the
desert, driven there by LIES mysterl'
GUS and remOrseless motive, were to
zee each other through Gods eyes.
One night they were encamped at
the head of a canon. The day had
been exceedingly hot, and long after
shutdown the radlations Of heat from
the rocks persisted. Cameron watched
his cOmrade. and yielded to interest
he had not heretofore voiced.
"Pardner, what drives you into the
desert? Do you come to forget"
Eyes"
"Ah" softly exclaimed Cameron
Always he seemed to have known that
He said no more, but grew acutel!
conscious Of the pang In his OWL
breast, of the fire in his heart tn
strife and torment Of his passion
driven soul. He had come into tn
desert to remember a woman. Sh
appeared to him then as she hat
looked when first she entered his lii
"A gOllen.haired girl, blue.eyet
white.sSInnsd red.lipped, tall an
slender and beautiful. He had neve
forgotten, and an I'd, siekening re
morse knocked at his heart he ros
and climbed out Of the canon and
the top of the mesa, where he pscee
to and fro and looked down into tn
weird and mystic shadows, like tn
: darkness Of his passion, and farthe
on down the moon track and the gil
tering stretches that vanished in tn
cold blue horizon. = In that endles
silent hall Of desert there was
spirit; and Cameron felt hoverir
L near him what he imagined TO
phantOms Of peace.
!, He returned to camp and sougl
his comrade.
II reckon we're two of a kind" |
said. 1T was a woman who drove
u into the desert. But come to
i member. The deserts the only pla
=, | can do that"
"Was she your wlfe?' asked Il
elder man.
L. mo"
Il A long silence ensued. The cam
u fire wore down to a ruddy ashen hea
J. II had a daughter" said Cameron
e comrade. "She lost her mother
s birth And IL didn't know how
II bring up a girl. She was pretty al
d gay. It was the-the old story
Il His words were peculiarly slgn1
l. cant to Cameron. They distress
n him. He had been wrapped up in !
u remorse. II ever In the past he h
he thought of anyone connected wi
n the girl he had wronged, he had 10
ID forgotten. But the consequences
IN such wrong were far.reaching. Tn
af struck at the roots Of a home.
'e "Well, tell me morer asked Ca
'e eron earnestly.
IT, ut was the old, old story. My
was pretty and free. The young bu'
nj ran after her. guess she did not +
or away from them. And I was ava!
p good deal-working in another 10,
ID She was in love with wild fellow.
H. knew nothing of It till too late.
TO was engaged to marry her. But
ts didn't come back. And when the
.st grace became plain to all, my girl
.ct home. She went west. After a wi
no I heard from her. She was wei
,s. worklng-living for her baby. A II
#. time passed, l had no ties. ! drift
N west. Her lover had also gone w
no In those days everybody went W
70 I trailed him, intending to Kill n
M But l lost his trail. Neither coul
find any trace Of her. She moved
al driven, no doubt, by the hound Of
mast Since that I have taken to