Year: 1878

The FOLLOWING SPRING


Cochse left his home and wandered off into
the forests. This journey was no doubt i'm
pelled by the robbery which preyed so heavily
upon his mind. For months he lived wan
dering about the woods, his only companions
being his trusted rife and his faithful dog.
Wherever night overlook him there was his
home, with no shelter but the trees and no


bed save the brush, and sometimes the rocks.
Occasionally he would come out and obtain
food; but his principle subsistence was de-
rived from game, which he cooked over rude
fire, and devoured with q relish bordering on
| starvation. He seemed suddenly to have taken
a strong dislike to the miserable home he had
so long inhabited and strenuously avoided even
the near approach to that locality. He finally
decided to build himself new home in al
other place, and selected the northern side of


SMALL's MOUNTAIN


For his future habitation. This was still
more desolate than the place he had formerly
occupied and his only shelter consisted of
few boards placed against a huge boulder,
one end of which rested on the ground and
the other against the rock. As well may be
imagined, the place was devoid of every com
fort; but Cochise had been accustomed to
hardships of the most trying character and
he bore bravely these additional discomforts.
1t was in this dcsolate spot that the remain
ing summer and most of the following winter
was passed. His only companions in his
newly-found home were his faithful dog. rats,
snakes, lizards and other reptiles. 1t was
no uncommon thing for Cochise to be awak-
enod at night and find the


SNAKES CRAWLING OVER HIM.


"They never did me any harm, ~ said Cochise.
81 became well acquainted with them, and
did not fear them In the least. | hung my
coat on nail one night continued the her
NIT, "and had no occasion to use it for week.
One day | noticed the sleeve in motion and
when | took it down found an adder in it,


But did not harm the snake. | let him
crawl out of the hut without touching him.


| somehow liked the company of rats, snakes
and such things" These and kindred rep
tiles, after a while, began to look upon the
hermit as denizen in common with them
selves. The only annoyance he received from
Them was their persistency in stealing por-
| ton of his scanty food After months of
su ufierng he became weary of this place, and
returned to his old haunts.


CocHIsE AS DOC TRAINER.
Cochise was a dear lover of dogs. His own
faithful hound had fairly won his heart, net
only for himself but for the whole canine
species. He devoted large portion Of his
time, after his return to his old home, to dog
training, and his reputation in this peculiar
sphere became widespread. Many of the
| Older residents of your city well remember
the valuable services which the Indian hermit


rendered them in training their pets. 81 can
train dog to do anything" said the hermit,
| and this assertion was almost literally true.
Tears coursed down his wrnkled face as he
alluded, one day, in the presence of one of
| the sturdy farmers OF the town, to a favorite
dog companion of his many years previous.
This faithful dumb servant was constantly at
his side.


.'He slept on my arm just like child"
said the old man, and when he died felt as
| though had lost my best friend. He was
the best dog that ever lived and when |
think of how faithful and devoted he was
| to me you cannot wonder that weep because
| he died. | might cite almost innumerable
| instances Of the great love and devotion


which has been enkIndled in the heart of this


old man, showing how deeply be felt for and
how interested he became in the dog specie,


but the above will suffice for all practical


purposes. Notwithstanding his long exile
| from the world, his heart was susceptible to
| many good impulses, and his devotion to his
| poor dumb companion was characteristic of a
| warm heart hidden beneath a rough exterior
| The


MUrABLE HAND OF TINE


began to work ravages on the life of the her


nit, however, and like all things else, he died
| after awhile. II is said that the winter he
4. 1 Il = l..
| the inhabitants of the town. The snow be-


gan to tall in the early season, and for weeks
| in succession it came down in thick masses
until the town and its inhabitants were lit


orally hemmed in by hight and ponderous
drifts. For weeks TIE roads were practically
| impossible, and no one, for the most urgent


demands, ventured forth to plough their way
| through. After the storm had subsided, it


was noticed that no smoke was seen issuing
| from the chimney of the hermt's house


Some of the neighbors thought it advisable to
visit the hermit and ascertain the cause of
| the silence which everywhere prevailed about


his premises. 4 knock at the door received
| no answer. Finally it was decided TO force
an entrance; and this being done. sight


which chilled the heart was revealed There
lay tue form of Cochise stretched upon the


floor, cold in death. The room was in pit
able condition. Poverty reigned supreme on
every band. The body had been frozen stiff


but the rats and other vermin had been at
work Upon it and made most horrible mutil-
ations. The eyes were dug from their sock
cts, the nose and one ear had been eaten
away by the half-starved rats, while two of
the fingers on the right hand had been greed
lly deyoured by the same means. The town
authorities were at once notified and the mu-
tllated remains carried to the poor-house by
order of the superintendent. The body was
placed in pine coffin and buried on the
shore of the Webber Pond, on land belonging
to the town. No headstone marks the spot,
but the grave is yet visible, though no one


would notice il unless the mound was point
ed out.


Such is an imperfect sketch Of some Of the
doings in the life time Of somewhat re


marksble man. The hand that slaughtered
TCoNoLUDEp ON FOURTH PAGE.l