si -. ^ - JJY l CAPT.CMARL&S RING. Kt OUTING PUBLICATIONS, COLLEGE DAYS OR HARRY'S CAREER AT YALE. A realistic story of American College life by John Seymour Wood. Illustrated, bound in cloth, $1.50. SADDLE AND SENTIMENT. Without doubt the most in- teresting of all turf stories. By Wenona Oilman. Handsomely bound in cloth, $1.00; paper, soc. YACHT RACES FOR THE AMERICA'S Ci p From 1851-1895. By A. J. Kenealy. Illustrated by F. S. Cozzens and others. "Very attractive," says the London Field. "Highly prized by all yachtsmen," the New York Times. Cloth, $1.50; paper, soc. KEY TO HEALTH AND STRENGTH. By J. R. Judd. A prac- tical and valuable treatise on physical culture, with numerous illustrations and diagrams. Bound in cloth, only $1.50. BOAT SAILING IN FAIR WEATHER AND FOIL. By A. J. Kenealy, an authority on Yachting. The work is devoted largely to the management of small craft. A valuable addition to the yachtsman's library ; this new and exceedingly interesting and helpful book, in an attractive binding, will be sent prepaid *to any address. Paper, soc. ; cloth, $1.00. OUTING LIBRARY. Short stories from Outing, pocket size, 1 86 pages, profusely illustrated. Issued quar- terly, price 25 cents. Subscription price, $1.00 per year. "Many excellent stories have appeared in OUTING during the last two or three years which are well worth gathering together into a convenient form for the car, the boat, or the hammock."- Journal of Education. VOLUME I. No. i. The Luck ol a Good-for-Nothing, by Mrs. Ward, and other turf stories. No. 2. A Comedy of Counterplots, by Edgar Fawcett, and other stories. No. 3. Rancho del Muerto, by Capt. Charles King, and other stories of adventure. No. ^ Antaeus, by Frank M. Bicknell, and other stories. VOLUME II. No. i. Where Were the Boys? by John Habberton, author of Helen's Babies, and other stories. RANCHO DEL MUERTO, BY CAPT. CHARLES KING, AND OTHER STORIES FROM OUTING. ILLUSTRATED. THE OUTING PUBLISHING COMPANY, NEW YORK AND LONDON. y. B* J. WORNT.^, 1895. '," ' . * * ' *.."* * *," .* * * * - N^W YORK? CONTENTS. I. RANCHO DEL MUERTO (Illustrated) - - n CHARLES KING, Capt. U. S. A. A MIGHTY HUNTER BEFORE THE LORD - 63 V1RGIN1US DABNEY. A COHUTTA VALLEY SHOOTING MATCH - 84 WILL N. HARBEN. MOERAN'S MOOSE (Illustrated) - 102 ED. W. SANDYS. THE MYSTERY OF A CHRISTMAS HUNT (///#.?.) 126 TALBOT TORRANCE. HERNE THE HUNTER - 149 WILLIAM PERRY BROWN. UNCLE DUKE'S "B'AR" STORY ... ^9 LILLIAN GILFILLAN. A CIGARETTE FROM CARCINTO - - - 182 EDWARD FRENCH. ANTAEUS (Illustrated) 13 FRANK M. BICKNELL. WHICH Miss CHARTERIS ? - 53 C. G. RODGERS. BEAR'S-HEAD BROOCH (Illustrated) 81 ERNEST INGERSOLL. Miss GWYNNE'S BURGLAR - 107 VIOLET E. MITCHELL. THE LADY IN ROUGE 121 W. E. P. FRENCH. THE BREAKING OF WINTER - 149 PATIENCE STAPLE 7^O N. CYNTHY'S JOE 173 CLARA S PR AGUE ROSS. M6Q530 rr fl\J does not look forward through the day, the week or the month, as fortune favors, to a break in the operations of the busy world, a holiday or a week's vacation ? What man or woman .......... ; not plan to dedicate this time to his or her favorite pastime, whether it be Cycling, Athletic Sports, Fishing, Hunting or Sailing ? Then why not in the interim read the doings of others as recorded by OUTING ? . Not all those who would, can indulge them- selves in those pastimes which give health and vigor to mind and body but all may . . . f\CctCl the only magazine that ministers to the army of toilers who of necessity stay at home, and the favorite magazine with those who seek physical development combined with recrea- tion Next to a day with wheel and camera, sail and paddle, rod and gun, an afternoon on the campus or in the gym, an hour spent with OUTING is the best tonic for tired brain and worn out nerves. FICTION has also a place in OUTING ; for all lovers of sport enjoy a good piece of fiction from the pen of a writer of note m^m^^mmmBBBlP Thus is OUTING a magazine for every library table. SEND FOR FREE SPECIMEN COPY. THE OUTING PUBLISHING COflPANY, NEW YORK. PART I. STORIES OF ADVENTURE. RANCHO DEL MUERTO. BY CHARLES KING, CAPT. U. S. ARMY. O denying it there was some- thing uncanny about the place at the very first glance. The p a y master ad- mitted that to himself as his ambulance slowly drove in, and his escort of half a dozen troopers came clattering after. It was his first visit to the spot, and he shrugged his broad shoulders and murmured a word of caution to the silent clerk who sat beside him : " I want you to keep eyes and ears open here, Staines. We've got to make a night of it. You remember that this is where Sergeant Dinsmore was murdered, and I've heard nothing but bad accounts of the people for the last six months." Mr. Staines was apparently a man who wasted no words. Acquiescence with him may have been expressed by silence. At all events he made no reply. 12 OUTING LIBRARY. '* Were you tver at the ranch before, when you made the trips with Colonel Torre: ? ' asked the paymaster. u No, sir, it's all strange to me here- abouts." " How far are we from Canon del Mu- erto now, sergeant?" asked the officer of the bearded trooper who rode close along- side. " Sixteen miles, sir, on a bee line, but at least twenty by the road. We're off the direct trail now. We could have got through the canon and reached the camp before this if that mule hadn't gone lame." " Major," said Staines in a low tone, " I can get a saddle horse or mule here, no doubt. Had I not better ride right on ? I can reach Captain Rawlins' camp by 9 or 10 o'clock. He will be mighty anxious at your non-arrival." " I was thinking of sending one man ahead ; I don't like to let you go. It will wear you out for to-morrow's work." " Indeed it won't, sir ; I'm feeling fresh enough, and the change from wagon to saddle will just suit me. I think I'd better go." And there was an eager look in Staines' clear-cut face. " I'll think about it " was the dubious answer. " These cavalry men are the proper ones to send, not a paymaster's clerk. If anything befell you on the route I would be crippled in making pay- ments." "Nothing would be apt to befall me, sir ; I know that road well." " I thought you said all was strange to you hereabouts " said the paymaster 14 OUTING LIBRARY. quickly. But the clerk showed no dis- comfiture. " I said here, around the ranch. The direct road lies off there nearly nine miles to the southwest, sir. That is the one we THE AMBULANCE SLOWLY DROVE IN. always took going to Tucson." The paymaster relapsed into silence. It is all very well to have subordinates who know far more than does the senior officer, yet the latter does not always RAXCHO DEL MUERTO. 15 find it agreeable. His own clerk having resigned some six months previous and returned to the East, when Major Sher- rick was ordered from San Francisco to Arizona he had employed Mr. Staines at the urgent request of the officer whom he relieved. Staines had property interests in the Territory, he was told, and wanted to remain. He was a man profoundly versed in his duties ; accurate, temperate, reliable and of unimpeachable character, said his recommenders. Sherrick was glad to get him, for he himself had no head for figures, and had been made a paymaster from civil life simply because his uncle the Senator found him a failure in every other capacity, and demanded the appointment of an Executive who could not deny him, though he felt like kicking himself when he looked at the long list of grizzled, war-tried captains who were wistful applicants for the long- ed-for promotion. A tall Mexican stepped forward with much urbanity and grace of manner to as- sist the paymaster to alight as the ambu- lance stopped in front of the ranch, and Major Sherrick looked with emotions of surprise upon Pedro Ruiz, the proprietor. "You don't mean to say that's the scoundrel we heard so much bad talk about at headquarters ? " he whispered to Staines at the first opportunity. " The very same, sir ; the most accom- plished cutthroat in Arizona, if we can believe our senses and disregard evi- dence." " Where are his men ? He seems alone 16 OUTING LIBRARY. here, all but that old greaser yonder." " Dios sabe," answered the clerk briefly, though his eyes glanced quickly away to- ward the purpling range to the south. " But we shall need our guards every moment we are here, sir, that's certain." An hour later night had settled down upon the broad valley, black and forbid- ding. All day long the wind had been sighing about the corral, whirling clouds of dust from the loose, sandy soil and sifting it in through many a chink and crevice over the floor of Pedro's ranch. The great ranges to the northwest, the Sierras to the south, were whitecapped at their lofty summits, but all over the arid miles of surrounding desert the sun had been hotly blazing from noon to the dewless eve, and not until it sank behind the western wave did the wind sweep down untempered. Through its shallow bed the Gila rolled, a lazy, turbid current, not a rifle shot away. Quicksands and muddy pools flanked its course for miles and barred all at- tempts at crossing except at the point where thrifty Pedro had " corduroyed" the flats with boards that had formerly done duty at the agency building, and, having originally cost the paternal Gov- ernment something in the neighborhood of $i apiece, had now come down to the base uses of daily trampling under foot. The stage to the Gripsack Mines, the huge ox teams and triple-hitched wagons, the nimble pack mules, even the buckboard with the United States IS OUTING LIBRARY. mail, paid reluctant tribute into Pedro's dingy palm, though the owners mental- ly damned him for a thief. Everybody in that part of Arizona well knew that in the unprecedented rise of the Gila, a few years back, two of the agency storehouses had been floated away down the stream, accom- panied by a dense flotilla of joists, scantling and clapboards, which had been piled up on the river bank after weeks of laborious transportation from Plummer's saw mill in the San Ga- briel. So, too, had sundry casks of bacon, barrels of beans and bales of Indian goods; and while portions of this flood-swept as- sortment were found stranded and scat- tered along the winding shores as far down as Pedro's bailiwick, not so much as a solitary shingle had passed beyond, and the laws of flotsam and jetsam had received at the hands of this shrewd "greaser" their most liberal construc- tion. More than once had the Federal authorities been compelled to proceed to stringent measures with Pedro and ar- raign him before a jury of his peers on charges of having robbed and defrauded the General Government, and more than once with prompt and cheering unanimity had the jury pronounced him not guilty, a service which he never failed to requite in kind when Garcia, Gomez or Sancho came up for his turn. And now the old Mexican was proprietor of a goodly ranch, built mainly of adobe, it is true, as were his roomy corrals and storehouses, yet roofed, floored, partitioned, doored and RANCHO DEL MUEETO. 19 windowed, too, by the unwilling contri- butions wrung from Uncle Sam. For three years he had furnished bacon, frijoles and fried eggs, the unvarying " IT IS NOT TRUE. YOU LIE J * menu for either breakfast, dinner or sup- per, at a charge of $i a head for any and all travelers who sought to appease their appetite at his table. He kept a bar, too, and dealt out villainous " tanglefoot " and 20 OUTING LIBRARY. fiery mescal to such stomachs as could stand the onslaught and the tax of two bits a thimbleful. He ran a " brace game " of monte whenever the packers were drunk or strangers fool enough to play. He was a thorough-paced rascal in the opinion of every " gringo" who passed that way, and a man of unimpeachable character according to all records in the case. He was a " greaser " of whom everything had been said and nothing proved ; that is, to the satisfaction of an old-time Arizona jury. But Mr. Whit- lock, the new United States District At- torney, was said to be " laying " for Pedro, and between those who knew them both and were aware of the possibilities of finding twelve better men and truer out- side of Maricopa County, bets were even as to the result. " Just let me get that thieving greaser across the line into Yavapai," said a local luminary, " and I'll find a jury that will hang him on sight or lynch him on gen- eral principles." But Pedro knew better than to venture northward along the tempting shores of the Hassayampa. Even the chance of collecting a bad debt from a fellow countryman, known to be lurking in Wickenburg, failed to lure Pedro thither. He smiled suggestively, showing his white teeth and waving aside the blue smoke of his cigarrito with sinewy brown hand. " A Wickenburg is too damn close to Yavapai, and Yavapai to 'ell," he remarked. And it had more than once been said of Pedro that he spoke English like a native. RAXCHO DEL MUERTO. 21 " Rancho Ruiz" was the sonorous and pretentious title he had bestowed upon the establishment to which the winding Arizona roadway led. " Cutthroat Cross- ing " was what the soldiers and placer miners had called this half ferry, half ford of Pedro's ever since the body of young Sergeant Dinsmore had been found stranded on a sand bar of the Gila two miles below, his neck and his money belt slashed by the same knife. Going into Yuma with well-lined pockets, Dinsmore had been warned to make no stay among the gang of monte players always hov- ering about Pedro's. But he had been a bold and successful gambler at Tucson. He had nothing but contempt for Mexican bravos and confidence in his own prowess as a shot. The card table had attractions he could not well resist, but the ranch had still another Pedro's daughter. Now it was when he was sent thither with a squad of a dozen troopers, hunting up the missing sergeant, that Lieutenant Adriance caught sight of this siren of a senorita. She could not have been more than seventeen, and her mother would have denied her even that number of years. "She is a mere child," protested Senora Dolores, when the subject was mentioned. Pedro had moved up from Sonora only a few years before, and had lived a while at the old Mexico-Spanish town of Tucson, whither, ere long, there came unflattering tales as to the cause of his change of residence. He had money, and that in Arizona covered more sins than charity. The boundary line lay con- 22 OUTING LIBRARY. veniently near. Extradition was an un- practiced art in the days whereof we write. Apaches of the mountains and assassins of the mines found equal refuge across the border, and in exchange we re- ceived such choice spirits as proved too tough for even a Mexican town to tol- erate. Of such was Pedro ; but no one to look at Pedro's daughter would have called her a felon's child. The night that Adriance reached the rancho on the search just mentioned he had purposely left his little escort some distance up the Gila, and advanced alone to reconnoitre. It was a perfectly still evening, soft and starry. The hoofs of his broncho made no sound upon the sandy waste of road, and not even the dogs about the corral seemed aware of his coming. Adriance had thrice visited the ranch before, when returning from scout or pursuit of Apaches, and never once had he been greeted by feminine voice about the premises. It was with no little sur- prise, then, that he heard the tinkle of a guitar and the sound of low, soft, girl- ish tones singing a plaintive melody. He had heard many a Mexican ditty, and had pronounced the singers twangy, shrill and nasal ; but this was different. He had come to Rancho Ruiz with every expecta- tion of finding evidence of the murder of one of his most valued troopers, and here, on the instant of his arrival, was disarmed by a song. East of the ranch there stood a little lattice-work structure, something after the manner of a summer house, and from thence the sounds pro- EANCHO DEL NUERTO. 23 ceeded. The lieutenant leaped from his horse and strode to the entrance, wonder- ing what manner of woman he should find beyond. There was not light enough to distinguish either form or feature, but over in the farther corner was a shadowy something in white. The song continued but a moment before the singer became aware of the equally shadowy form at the entrance, and stopped abruptly. "Leon!" spoke a girlish voice in the Spanish tongue, "you frightened me. Is that you ? " " I am Felipe, otherwise Phil. Adriance, of the American Cavalry, sefiorita, and far more surprised than you are at seeing me." The girl started to her feet as though flight was her first impulse, then hesitated. Did not the " Senor Teniente " bar the way in merely standing in the entrance ? " Do not be alarmed, I beg of you," implored the young officer, " it is so long since I have heard a song in a woman's voice. It is such a surprise to hear one now. Do sing for me again. I will have to stand here where I can hold my horse." For a moment she was silent, then : " You have been to the rancho ? You have seen my father ? " she asked at length, her voice tremulous and almost inaudible. "I? No, I have just come; I am alone, and heard your song and forgot everything else." To his surprise she came hurriedly for- ward out of the dusk, and stood close 24 OUTING LIBRARY. to his side, looking fearfully over toward the night lights at the bar, whence the sounds of Mexican voices could be heard. " Alone ? You came here alone ? O sefior, ride on or ride back. Stay not here ! Not at the rancho ! There are wicked men not my father ; not Pedro Ruiz, but there are others." " Is this true? Are you Pedro's daugh- ter ? " queried the lieutenant, evidently far more impressed with this fact than with her tidings. " I never knew he had a child like you, and I have been here often and have never seen you." " But I have seen you, senor, when you were last here, and I saw you, too, at the cuartel at Tucson. Do you know do you remember the day of the race ? " And her dark eyes were for one instant lifted timidly to his. " Is this possible ? " he exclaimed, seiz- ing her hand as it fell listlessly by her side. " Let me see your face. Surely I have heard your voice before." But she shrank back, half timid, half capricious. " I must not ; I must go, senor, and you you must ride away." And now her eyes glanced half fear- fully toward the house, then sought his face in genuine anxiety. He had been fumbling in the pocket of his hunting shirt, and suddenly drew forth a little silver case. The next instant, while he held her wrist firmly with one hand, the brilliant flame of an electric match flashed over her face and form. "Oh, sefior," she cried, even when bowing her blushing face upon her bared ''THIS is MADNESS! PUT IT OUT!" 26 OUTING LIBRARY. arm, " this is madness ! Put it out ! " Then, like a frightened deer, she went bounding to the ranch, but not before he had recognized in her the pretty Mexican girl with whom he had thrice danced at the festa at Tucson and whose name he had vainly sought to learn. Nor did he again see her on this visit. Nor did he hear again her voice. Returning with his men at dawn, he began the day's investigations and had occasion to ask many questions of old Pedro, who promptly answered that he well remem- bered the sergeant and that the sergeant had drunk at his bar ; had partaken of his cheer ; had stabled his horse at the corral ; but that, after gambling with "los otros," men of whom he, Pedro, knew naught, the sergeant had gone on his way. More he could not tell. He shrugged his shoulders and protested his ignorance even of the names of the men with whom Dinsmore had gambled. " You enter my house, Senor Teniente. You ask for food, for drink. You pay. You go. Ask I you your name your home ? No ! Should I demand it of any caballero who so come and go ? " And failing in extracting information from the master, Adriance sought the hirelings and found them equally ret- icent. Shrewd frontiersmen and cam- paigners in his little detachment were equally unsuccessful until nearly night, when a brace of prospectors rode in and said they saw what looked to be a human body over on a sand bar down the Gila. Then Pedro's face had turned ashen gray, EANCHO DEL MUERTO. 27 and one of his henchmen trembled vio- lently. Poor Dinsmore was given such soldier burial as his comrades could devise, and Pedro, of his own accord, and with much reverential gravity of mien, had graced the ceremony with his presence. Every man of the cavalry detachment felt morally certain that Pedro Ruiz knew far more than he would tell, but there was no way in which they could proceed farther, and civil process was ineffectual in those days except in the court of final jurisdiction of which Judge Lynch was sole presiding officer. Adriance rode away with a distinct sense of discomfiture at heart. What business had he to feel baffled and chagrined at his failure to see that girl again when the original object of his mission had been the discovery of Dinsmore's fate ? What right had he to wish to speak with the daughter of the man whom he believed an accessory to the sergeant's murder ? " Do not let them know you have seen me " she had whispered ere she scurried away to the ranch, and as neither mother nor daughter once appeared during the presence of his escort about the corral, there seemed no way in which he could open the subject. Six months passed, during which period he had been sent to Tucson on escort duty, and while there had sought and found some well-to-do Mexican residents whom he remembered as being friends of the graceful girl who had danced so de- lightfully with him at the baile only the 28 OUTING LIBRARY. year before. From them he learned her name, Isabel, and something of her his- tory. And the very next scout down the Gila found him in command and eager to go, and this very night, black and for- bidding, that had settled down on Ran- cho Ruiz after the arrival of Paymaster Sherrick and his train, who should come riding noiselessly through the gloaming but Lieutenant Adriance himself, as be- fore, all alone. Nearing the lights of the rancho and moving at slow and cautious walk, his ears alert for every sound, the lieutenant be- came aware of the fact that Roderick, his pet horse, was pricking up his own ears and showing vast interest in some myste- rious and unseen presence which they were steadily approaching. Before he had got within two hundred yards of the dim light of the house he caught sight of a lantern or two flitting about the corral. Then Roderick quickened his nimble walk and began edging off to the right front, where presently, against the low western sky, Adriance could distinguish some object like a big covered wagon, and plainly heard the pawing and snorting of a horse. Roderick evidently wanted to answer, but the lieutenant reined him abruptly to the left, and veered away southward. Just now it was not the society of his fellow men he sought. A woman's voice, one woman's at least, would have called him eagerly forward from the darkness into the light of her waiting eyes. As it was, he made wide circuit, and not until well to the south did he again approach EANCHO DEL NUERTO. 29 the silent walls of the corral. And now the wind, blowing toward him, brought with it the sound of voices, and Adriance was suddenly warned that someone was here, close at hand. Dismounting, the PEDRO RUIZ. lieutenant slowly led his horse toward the dark barrier before him, but not until he had softly traversed the length of the southern wall did he become aware of other voices, low toned and eager. Around the corner, on the western side, the dark forms of a horseman and someone afoot SO OUTING LIBRARY. were dimly defined, then a brief conversa- tion became audible : u You have no time to lose, Leon. Go softly until you are a mile away, then ride like hell." " I understand, but the money ?" " That shall be yours to-morrow now skip." The jingle of a Mexican spur, the soft thud of mustang hoofs upon the yielding soil were heard a moment, and the horse- man rode slowly away southwestward, the broad stiff brim of his sombrero revealed against the starry sky ; then all was si- lence. The American, whoever he was, still stood there. Adriance felt sure he had heard the voice before. As for the horseman Leon that was the name he heard her speak the night he surprised her in the little summer house. Who was Leon ? Presently the American turned and strolled slowly back toward the rancho. Slipping Roderick's rein over the post at the angle, the lieutenant followed. Keep- ing close to the wall, the stranger led the way, all unconscious of pursuit or observ- ation, yet when he reached the next cor- ner, whence could be seen the night lights of the rancho and the far-away gleam of the camp fire, out toward the Gila, he stopped and peered cautiously around. Mindful of the evil fame that hung about the premises, Adriance halted too and waited. The next moment his heart beat hard. A woman's voice soft, sil- very and young had accosted the stran- ger. It was Isabel's. RANCHO DEL MUERTO. 31 " You have sent my brother away again, when he had but just returned. Why is this, sefior? Whither has he gone?" " Never mind about Leon, Belita," said the American, soothingly, " he's all right. He has simply ridden over to let Captain Rawlins know of our mishap." " It is not true, sefior ! I heard him speak to my father. It is to Sancho and to Manuel he rides, and for no good. To what new crime do you lead him ? Why are they all gone ? Why are we alone here this night ? Why " " Don't be a fool, girl," said the man curtly, as he took her by the wrist. " Come, Leon's gone. Come back to the house." " He has not gone. He promised me he would not go from me without a word to-night. The moment I saw you I knew that trouble would come, and I warned him when he returned. You have made him wicked you Americanos. You are all ' " Oh, yes, all, even Teniente Adriance, Isabel. I heard all about you and your affair with him. Have a care ! " " No. He is good. It is not in him to make a gambler and a rover of my brother." " He would make worse of your broth- er's sister, you fool," the man muttered, with brutal emphasis. " Come now, no nonsense with that fellow ; he's as good as married already, I tell you ; he is to be married in two months." "Oh, it is not true ! " was the fiery an- swer. " You lie ! " And then, with femi- 32 OUTlXd LIBRARY. nine inconsequence, "Who is she? Who does he marry ? " "The Senorita Abert a lovely girl, too, and rich in San Francisco." "Yes, it is a lie, Staines, and you know it ! " came in cool and measured tones, and Mr. Adriance suddenly stepped from the corner of the wall. Staines dropped the captive's hand and recoiled a pace or two with a stifled ex- clamation, half amaze, half dismay ; then with sudden effort strove to recover him- self. "Well," he exclaimed, with a nerv- ous laugh ; " talk of angels and you hear the rustle, etc. Indeed, lieutenant, I beg your pardon, though ; I was mere- ly joking with our little Mexican friend." " That will do, Mr. Staines ; I know a joke when I hear one. Wait here a mo- ment, if you please, for I want a word with you. Pardon me for startling you, senorita. Will you take my arm ? " The girl was trembling violently. With bowed head and fluttering heart she leaned upon the trooper's arm and was slowly led away toward the rancho, never seeming to note that the little brown hand that had been so firmly taken and drawn within by his was still tightly clasped by that cavalry gauntlet. The moment they were out of the earshot of Staines the lieutenant bent down. " It was to see you I came here, Isabel ; I had hoped to find you at the summer house. Come to me there in ten minutes, will you? I must see you before I go. First, though, I have to investigate that fellow Staines." 34 OUTING LIBRARY. " Oh, I cannot ! I dare not ! I slipped away from my room because of Leon. They will lead him into trouble again. Indeed, I must go back. I must go, Sefior Felipe." " You remember my name, then, lit' one ! " he laughed, delightedly. " Al have been to Tucson since I saw you tha. blessed night, and I heard all about you." " Hush, senor ! It is my mother who calls. List ! Let me go, senor ! " for his arm had suddenly stolen about her waist. " Promise you will come promise ! " " I dare not ! O Felipe, no ! " she cried, for he had with quick impulse folded her tightly in his strong embrace and his lips were seeking hers. Strug- gling to avoid them she had hidden her face upon his breast. " Promise quick ! " he whispered. " Ah, if I can yes. Now let me go." His firm hand turned her glowing face to his ; his eager lips pressed one linger- ing kiss just at the corner of her pretty mouth. She hurled herself from him then and bounded into the darkness. An in- stant more and he heard the latch of the rear door click ; a stream of light shot out toward the corral and she was gone. Then slowly he returned to the corner of , the wall, fully expecting that Staines had left. To his surprise, there was the clerk composedly awaiting him. "Where have you sent Leon Ruiz?" was the stern question. " I do not recognize your right to speak to me in that tone, Mr. Adriance. If you have nothing else to ask me good night ! " BANCHO DEL MUERTO. 35 " By God, sir ! I heard your whispered talk with him and I know there is mis- chief afoot," said the lieutenant, as he strode after the retreating form. "This thing has got to be explained, and in the lajor's presence." Staines halted, and lifting his hat with Castilian grace of manner bowed pn> foundly to the angry officer. " Permit me, sir, to conduct you to him." An hour later, baffled, puzzled, balked in his precious hopes, Mr. Adriance re- turned to the bivouac of his little com- mand. Major Sherrick had promptly and fully confirmed the statement of his clerk. It was he who told Mr. Staines to employ a ranchman to ride by night to Captain Rawlins, and the mysterious caution that surrounded the proceedings was explain- ed by the fact that Pedro had refused his permission and that Leon had to be brib- ed to disobey the paternal order. Adri- ance was dissatisfied and suspicious, but what was there left for him to say ? Then he had hastened to the summer house, and waited a whole hour, but there came no Isabel. It was nearly 10 o'clock when he turned his horse over to the care of the guard in a little clump of cotton- woods near the Gila. "We remain here to-morrow," he brief- ly told the sergeant. " No need to wake the men before 6." With that he went to the little wall tent, pitched for his use some yards away. How long he slumbered Adriance could not tell. Ill at ease as to the strange con- 36 OUTING LIBRARY. duct of Staines, he had not slept well. Conscience, too, was smiting him. Some- thing in the tones of that girlish voice thrilled and quivered through his memory. What right had he even to ask her to meet him ? What wrong had he not wrought in that one kiss ? Somebody was fumbling at the fasten- ing of the tent flap. "What is wanted, sergeant ? " he quick- ly hailed. " Open, quick ! " was the low-toned an- swer. "Come to the door. No, no, bring no light," was the breathless caution, as he struck a match. " Who is this ? " he demanded, with strange thrill at heart something in those tones he well knew yet it could not be. A dim figure in shrouding serape was crouching at the front tent pole as he threw open the flap." " Good God ! Isabel ! " " Si Yes. Hush, senor, no one must hear, no one must know 'twas I. Quick ! Wake your men ! Saddle ! Ride hard till you catch the paymaster ! Never leave him till you are beyond Canon del Muerto, and then never come to the rancho again never ! " Second Chapter. HAT off mule of the paymaster's ambu- lance must have been aquadruped of wonderful recuper- ative powers. She had gone nearly dead lame all the previous day, and now at 5 o'clock on this breezy morning was trotting along as though she had never known a twinge in her life. Mr. Staines was apparently nonplussed. Act- ing on his advice, the paymaster had de- cided to break camosoon after 2 o'clock, make coffee, and in^u start for Rawlins' camp at once. He confidently expected to have to drag along at a slow walk, and his idea was to get well through the Canon del Muerto before the heat of the day. The unexpected recovery of Jenny, however, enabled them to go bowling ahead over 38 OUTING LIBRARY. the level flat, and at sunrise they were al- ready in sight of the northern entrance to the gorge. It was odd how early Mr. Staines began to develop lively interest in the condition of that mule. First he sug- gested to the driver that he was going too fast, and would bring on that lameness again ; but the driver replied that it was Jenny herself who was doing most of the pulling. Then Staines became fearful lest the cavalry escort should get exhausted by such steady trotting, and ventured to say to Major Sherrick that they ought to rein up on their account. Sherrick was eager to push ahead, and, like most other men not to the manner born, never for a moment thought of such a thing as a horse's getting used up by simply carry- ing a man-at-arms six hours at ceaseless trot or lope. However, he knew that Staines was far more experienced in such matters than he, and so could not disregard his advice. " How is it, sergeant, are we going too fast for you ? " he asked. " Not a bit of it, sir," was the cheery answer. " We're glad enough to go lively now and rest all day in the shade." RAXCUO DEL MUERTO. 39 "You see how it is, Staines ; they don't want to slack up speed. We'll get to Rawlins' in time for breakfast at this rate," and again Staines was silent. Pres- ently the team began the ascent of a rolling wave of foothill, around which the roadway twisted as only Arizona roadways can, and at the crest the driver reined in to give his mules a " breather." Staines leaped from the ambulance for a stretch. The troopers promptly dis- mounted and loosened saddle girths. "Yonder is the mouth of the canon, sir," said the sergeant, pointing to a rift in the range to the south, now gorgeously lighted up by the morning sunshine. " How long is the defile, sergeant ? " "Not more than four miles, sir that is, the canon itself but it is crooked as a ram's horn, and the approach on the other side is a long, winding valley." " When were you there last ? " asked Staines. "About six months ago, just after Dins- more was murdered." Staines turned quickly away and stroll- ed back a few yards along the road. " You knew Dinsmore, then ? " asked the paymaster. " I knew him well, sir. We had served together during the war. They said he fell in love with a pretty Mexican girl at Tucson, and she would not listen to him. Some of the men heard that she was a daughter of old Pedro who keeps that ranch, and that it was hoping to see her that he went there." " I know. I remember hearing about 40 OUTING LIBRARY. it all then," said the paymaster. " Did you ever see anything of the man who was said to have killed him?" "Sonora Bill? No, sir; and I don't know anyone who ever did. He was al- ways spoken of as the chief of a gang of cutthroats and stage robbers down around Tucson. They used to masquerade as Apaches sometimes that's the way they were never caught. The time they robbed Colonel Wood and killed his clerk - =**' -l-'^-V^-'iL^Sn'"- . 7 "" ; -''**? ; :^ l ~'.- "IT SLOWLY ROSE HIGHER AND HIGHER." 114 OUTING LIBRARY. cover at the rapid, pounding trot pe- culiar to the species. Moeran's mission had been accom- plished much easier than was expected, and he certainly had discovered a most promising locality for the trip with his friends. After a day spent fishing, he departed homeward, leaving his canoe and camp outfit in charge of the guide, whom he also bound by most solemn pledge neither to betray the secret of the beaver meadow, nor to molest the moose himself, before Moeran and his friends returned in time for the first lawful day. The last day of the close season saw the party and the guide snugly en- camped at a point half-way down the lake. His three friends had unani- mously agreed that Moeran should have the honor of visiting the beaver mead- ow first, and alone if he desired. He was the surest shot and by far the best hand at this sort of business, and he had discovered the moose, while all hands knew how keen he was to secure a head to his own rifle. So at earliest dawn Moeran put lunch and rifle into his shapely Peterboro and sped noise- lessly away through the ghostly vapors curtaining the sleeping lake, and they saw him no more for many hours. The guide had questioned the others about their comrade's shooting (of his ability at the paddle he had somewhat sorrow- ful remembrance), and then, strange to say, had advised Moeran to go alone. "So much more glory for you," he MOE/tAN'S MOOSE. 115 said, "and I'll look after these other gentlemen and give them a day's fish- ing." But his manner was shifty, and Moeran mistrusted him. In due time he reached the little channel leading to the beaver mead- ow, and, as the sun lifted clear of the distant hills, he began working his way to the pond. He hardly expected to find the moose there then, but he had made up his mind to steal into the high grass and hide and watch all day, if necessary, and, at all events, study the thing out thoroughly. As the sun rose higher a brisk breeze sprang up, but as it came from the woods toward his station he did not mind, although it would have been fatal to his chance, probably, had it come from any other point of the compass. Presently his nose detected a strong, sickening odor of carrion, which, in time, as the breeze gained force, became almost overpow- ering, and he started to investigate. Paddling straight up-wind he came at last to a small pool, and the trouble was explained. The half-decomposed body of a full-grown cow moose lay in the pool and Moeran muttered savagely his opinion of all such butchery when he saw that not even the feet had been taken for trophies. Then he poled his canoe to the edge of the meadow and scouted carefully entirely round the open, seeking for any possible sign of the remainder of the quartet, To his utter disgust he found the remains of another moose, one of the younger ani- 11 6 OUTING LUUiARY. mals, lying just within the borders of the cover, and, as in the other case, the butcher had not troubled himself to take away any portion of his victim. Moeran understood, of course, that the guide had played him false, and if that worthy had been present he might have seriously regretted his wrong-do- ing, for he it was who had guided a learned and honorable (?) American judge to the sanctuary of the moose a month previously, and, for a considera- tion of twenty-five dollars, enabled his patron to gratify his taste for the sham- bles. Moeran's careful search discovered no fresh sign, and he made up his mind that the two survivors, the old bull and the yearling, had fled the scene and had probably sought another expanse oi beaver meadow and ponds the guide had mentioned as being about ten miles from Trout Lake. Moeran knew that some sort of a trail led thither, and he resolved to find it and follow it to the end and endeavor to locate the moose. Of the ensuing long, hard day's work it will be unnecessary to speak in de- tail. At nine o'clock that night his three friends sat near their roaring camp-fire on the lake shore, wondering at his pro- tracted absence. The guide had turn- ed in an hour previous, but the three were anxious, so they sat and smoked, and discussed the question, piling great drift-logs on their fire till it roared and cracked in fierce exultation and MOERAN'S MOOSE. 117 leaped high in air to guide the wander- er home. Its long, crimson reflection stretched like a pathway of flame far over the black waters of the lake, and the three sat and waited, now glancing along this glowing path, anon convers- ing in subdued tones. The lake was as still and dark as a lake of pitch, and some way the three felt ill at ease, as though some evil impended. At last the veteran of the trio broke a longer silence than usual : "Boys, I don't like this. It's ten o'clock and he should have been back long ago. I hope to Heaven A touch on his arm from the man at his right caused him to glance quickly lakeward. Forty feet from them, drifting noise- lessly into the firelight, was the Peter- boro, with Moeran kneeling as usual and sending the light craft forward in some mysterious manner which required no perceptible movement of the arms nor lifting of the paddle. It was a fine ex- hibition of his skill to thus approach un- heard three anxious, listening men on such a night, for he had heard their voices good two miles away. His ap- pearance was so sudden, so ghostliKe, that for a few seconds the party stared in mute surprise at the forms of man and craft standing out in sharp relief against the blackness of the night ; then a whoop of delight welcomed him. He came ashore, swiftly picked up the canoe and turned it bottom upward on the sand for the night, carried his rifle 118 OUTING LIBRARY. into camp, then approached the fire and looked sharply round. " The guide's asleep." " Oh, he is; him! " Then he flung himself down on the sand. Something in his tone and manner warned his friends not to talk, and they eyed him curiously. His face was white as death and drawn with an expression of utter exhaustion, and marked with grimy lines, showing where rivulets of sweat had trickled downward. As they looked, his eyes closed ; he was going to sleep as he lay. Quietly the veteran busied himself getting food ready, and presently roused the slumberer. " Here, old chap, have a nip and eat a bite. Why, you're dead beat. Where on earth have you been ? " A strangely hollow voice answered : "To the back lakes." His listeners whistled a combined long-drawn " whew " of amazement, for right well they knew the leagues of toilsome travel this statement implied. " See anything ? " " Wounded the old bull badly, and trailed him from the lakes to within five miles of here. That cur sleeping yon- der sold us ; but you hear me ! " he ex- claimed with sudden fierce energy, "/'// get that moose if I have to stay in the woods forever! " The three looked at him in admiring silence, for they guessed that, in spite of his terrible day's work, he intended starting again at daylight. In a few MOERAN'S MOOSE. 119 moments he finished his meal and stag- gered to the tent, and fell asleep as soon as he touched his blanket. When the party turned out next morn- ing the canoe was gone, though the sun was not yet clear of the hills. After breakfast they started in quest of grouse, working through the woods in the direc- tion of the beaver meadows, and finding plenty of birds. About ten o'clock they heard the distant report of a rifle, fol- lowed in a few minutes by a second, and the veteran exclaimed, " That's him, for an even hundred, and he's got his moose, or something strange has happened." At noon they returned to camp laden with grouse. No sign of the canoe as yet, so they had dinner, and lounged about and fished during the afternoon, casting many expectant glances down the lake for the laggard canoe. Night fell, with still no sound or sign of the wanderer, and again the camp-fire roar- ed and flamed and sent its glowing re- flection streaming far over the black waste of water. And again the three sat waiting. At ten o'clock the veteran rose and said, " Keep a sharp lookout, boys, and don't let him fool you again, and I'll get up a royal feed. He'll have moose-meat in the canoe this time, for he said he'd get that moose if he had to stay in the woods forever. He'll be dead beat, sure, for he's probably dragged the head out with him." So they waited, piling the fire high, and staring out over the lake for the first glimpse of the canoe. Eleven o'clock and midnight 120 OUTING LIBRARY. came and went, and still no sign. Then they piled the fire high for the last time and sought the tent. At the door the veteran halted, and laying a hand on the shoulder of his chum, drew him aside. " Why, whatever's the matter with you ? " The old man's face wore a piteous ex- pression, and his voice trembled as he whispered : " Hush ! Don't let ///';;/ hear you but there's something wrong. Something horrible has happened I feel it in my heart." " Nonsense, man ! You're sleepy and nervous. He's all right. Why, he's just cut himself a moose steak, and had a feed and laid down The sentence was never completed. A sound that caused both men to start convulsively tore through the black stillness of the night. A horrible, gurgling, demoniacal laugh came over the lake, and died away in fading echoes among the hills. " Woll-oll-all-ollow- wall-all-ollow ! " as though some hideous fiend was laughing with his lips touch- ing the water. They knew what it was, for the loon's weird cry was perfectly familiar to them, and they laughed too, but there was no mirth in their voices. Then one sought the tent, but the veteran paced up and down upon the cold beach, halting sometimes to replenish the fire or to stare out over the water, until a pale light spread through the eastern sky. Then he too turned in for a couple of hours of troubled, unre- freshing slumber. "LOOK, LOOK AT HIM!" The bright sunshine of an Indian summer's day brought a reaction and their spirits rose wonderfully; but still 122 OUTING LIBRARY. the canoe tarried, and as the hours wore away, the veteran grew moody again and the midday meal was a melancholy affair. Early in the after- noon he exclaimed : " Boys, I tell you what it is : I can stand this no longer something's wrong, and we're going to paddle those two skiffs down to the beaver meadow and find out what we can do, and we're going to start right now. God forgive us if we have been idling here while we should have been yonder ! " Two in a boat they went, and the pad- dles never halted until the channel to the beaver meadow was gained. Dividing forces, they circled in opposite directions round the open, but only the taint of the long-dead moose marked the spot. Then they fired three rifles in rapid suc- cession and listened anxiously, but only the rolling, bursting echoes of the woods answered them. "Guide, where would he probably have gone ? " " Wa'al, he told you he'd run the old bull this way from the back lakes thar's another leetle mash a mile north of us ; it's an awful mud-hole, and the bull might possibly hev lit out fur thar. Enyhow, we'd best hunt the closest spots first." The picture of that marsh will haunt the memories of those three men until their deaths. A few acres of muskeg, with broad reaches of sullen, black, slimy water, its borders bottomless mud, covered with a loathsome green scum, MOERAN'S MOOSE. 123 and a few pale-green, sickly-looking larches dotting the open the whole forming a repulsive blemish, like an ulcer, on the face of the earth. All round rose a silent wall of noble evergreens, rising in massive tiers upon the hills, with here and there a flame of gorgeous color where the frost had touched per- ishable foliage. Overhead a hazy dome of dreamy blue, with the sun smiling down through the gauzy curtains of the Indian summer. Swinging in easy cir- cles, high in air, were two ravens, chal- lenging each other in hollow tones, their orbits crossing and recrossing as they narrowed in slow-descending spirals. " Look, look at him ! " One bird had stooped like a falling plummet, and now hung about fifty yards above the farther bounds of the muskeg, beating the air with heavy, sable pinions and croaking loudly to his mate above. Closing her wings, she stooped with a whizzing rush to his level, and there the two hung flapping side by side, their broad wings sometimes striking sharply against each other, their hoarse, guttural notes sounding at intervals. A nameless horror seized the men as they looked. Their hunter's instinct told them that death lay below those flap- ping birds, and with one impulse they hurried round on the firmer ground to the ill-omened spot. The veteran, white-faced but active^ as a lad, tore his way through the border- ing cover first, halted and stared for an instant, then dropped his rifle in the 124 OUTING LIBRARY. mud, threw tip his hands and exclaimed in an agonized voice : " Oh, my God, my God ! " One by one they crashed through the brush and joined him, and stood staring. No need for questions. Ten square yards of deep-trodden, reeking mud and crushed grass, a trampled cap, and here and . there a rag of brown duck ; a silver-mounted flask shining in a little pool of bloody water ; a stock- less rifle-barrel, bent and soiled, stick- ing upright ; beyond all a huge, hairy body, and below it a suggestion of an- other body and a blood-stained face, that even through its terrible disfig- urement seemed to scowl with grim determination. Throwing off their coats, they dragged the dead moose aside and strove to raise Moeran's body, but in vain. Something held it ; the right leg was broken and they found the foot fast fixed in a forked root the treacherous slime had con- cealed. In the right hand was firmly clutched the haft of his hunting knife, and in the moose's throat was the broken blade. The veteran almost smiled through his tears as they worked to loosen the prisoned foot, and muttered, " Caught like a bear in a trap ; he'd have held his own with a fair chance." Carrying the poor, stamped, crushed body to the shade, they laid it upon the moss and returned to read the story of the fearful battle. To their hunter's eyes it read as plainly as printed page. The great bull, sore A CHRISTMAS HUNT. 125 from his previous wound, had sought the swamp. Moeran had trailed him to the edge and knocked him down the first shot, and after reloading had run forward to bleed his prize. Just as he got within reach the bull had struggled up and charged, and Moeran had shot him through the second time. Then he had apparently dodged about in the sticky mud and struck the bull terrific blows with the clubbed rifle, breaking the stock and bending the barrel, and getting struck himself repeatedly by the terrible forefeet of the enraged brute. To and fro, with ragged clothes and torn flesh, he had dodged, the dead- ly muskeg behind and on either side, the furious bull holding the only path to the saving woods. At last he had entrapped his foot in the forked root, and the bull had rushed in and beaten him down, and as he fell he struck with his knife ere the tremendous weight crushed out his life. The veteran picked up the rifle-barrel, swept it through a pool and examined the ac- tion, and found a shell jammed fast. In despairing voice he said, " Oh, boys, boys, if that shell had but come into place our friend had won the day, but he died like the noble fellow he was ! " With rifles and coats they made a stretcher and carried him sadly out to the lake. "He would get that moose, or stav in tJie ivoods forever ! " THE MYSTERY OF A CHRISTMAS HUNT, BY TALBOT TORRANCE. "CLUG !" The wad went home in the last shell, and as I removed it from the loader and finished the fill of my belt I heaved a sigh of profound relief at the completion of a troublesome job. I hate making ^BjPP'- _ cartridges. P e r - haps I am a novice, and have not a good kit, and am lazy, and clumsy, and impa- tient, and But go on and account for it yourself at greater length, if you will, my friends ; only accept my solemn statement that I detest the operation, which, I am convinced, ought to be con- fined to able-bodied colored men with per- severance and pachydermatous knuckles. An ordinary man is always in fluster and fever before he completes loading up for a day's gunning. His patent plugger becomes inexplicably and painfully frac- tious ; his percussions are misfits ; his A CHRISTMAS HUNT. 127 No. 10 wads prove to be No. 123 ; his shot sack is sure to spill ; his canister is certain to sustain a dump into the water pail, and, when he begins to reflect on all the unmentionable lapsi lingua of which his numerous vexations are the immedi- ately exciting, though possibly not the re- sponsible, cause, he is apt to conclude that, say what you may in favor of the breech- loader, there are a certain few points which commend the old - time muzzle- loader, especially when it comes around to charging a shell. 41 A TROUBLESOME JOB." 128 OUTIXG LIBRARY. At all events, that is the kind of man I now am ; and if the reader is not pre- pared to absolutely indorse me all through these crotchety cogitations, may I not hope he will at least bear with me pa- tiently and give me time to outgrow it, if possible ? But, as I was saying, I have charged up and am ready to sally forth and join the hunting party of the Blank- ville Gun Club, who had organized a match for Christmas Eve, a bright, nippy day of " an open winter " as experienced in Northeastern Ontario, at any rate. I don my game bag, strap on my belt, pick up my newly-bought hammerless and pre- pare to leave the house. My cocker Char- lie, long since cognizant of what my prepa- rations meant, is at heel. There is a wild light in his eyes, but, self-contained animal that he is, not a yelp, whine or even tail wag is mani- fested to detract from his native dignity and self possession. " Native " dignity ? Aye ! My dog boasts it naturally ; and yet, at the same time, I fancy the switch and I have had something to do in devel- oping it and teaching the pup its appar- ently unconscious display. "You're no fool dog, are you, Charlie? You're no funny, festive, frolicsome dog, who cannot hold himself in when a run is on the programme eh, boy ? " The silky-coated canine knows as well as I do that he is in for an afternoon a-wood. He has the inclination to leap and roll and essay to jump out of his hide. Yet the only answer he dare give to the inquiry is an appealing glance from his 130 OUTING LIBRARY. hazel orbs up at his master's immovable face. Yes, my dog Charlie is sober and sensible, and I am proud of these char- acteristics and their usefulness to me be- fore the gun. " Good-bye, little woman ! " I sing out cheerily to my wife as I pass down the hall. She comes to the door to see me off. Sometimes, perhaps, a man will find his adieu on an occasion of this kind re- sponded to uncordially, not to say frigid- ly, or perhaps not at all. But he must not grieve deeply over it or let it act as an excitative of his mean moroseness or angry passion. Think the thing all over. You are to be far away from home. Why should not the thought of the vacant chair next to that of the demonstrative and exacting baby at meal time rise up and sadden your wife ? Can you wonder at her distant bearing as she foresees how she will sigh " for the touch of a van- ished hand" on the coal scuttle and water pail ? Of course, she will " miss your welcome footsteps" carrying in kindlings, and the "dear, familiar voice" calling up the chickens. And so you cannot in reason expect her invariably to answer your kindly adios in a gladsome, gleesome, wholly satisfied sort of way. But never you go away without the good- bye on your part the honest, manly, loving-toned good-bye that will ring in her ears in your absence and cause her to fancy that perhaps you are not such a selfish old bear after all. With some of us men only a limited few, of course, and we are not inclined to A CHRISTMAS HUNT,. 131 think over and enumerate them it is un- happily the case that We have cheerful words for the stranger, And smiles for the sometime guest ; But oft for our own the bitter tone, Though we love our own the best. 44 WILL MISS YOUR WELCOME FOOT- STEPS." Now, if such men only thought How many go forth in the morning, Who never come back at night ! And hearts are broken for harsh words spoken, Which time may never set right, what a different atmosphere might perme- ate the domicile on " first days," to say nothing of the rest of the time ! 132 OUTIXG LIBRARY. The real fact of the matter is, men and brothers, we do not accurately appreciate the objections which the domestic part- ners may entertain against our occasion- al outings. For my part I verily believe they are largely, if not entirely, prompted by the feeling that There's nae luck aboot the hoose, There's nae luck at a' ! There's nae luck about the hoose, Since oor guid mon's avva'. And here we go on thinking it is purely a matter of petty petulance and small sel- fishness on their part ! Come, gentlemen, let us once and for all rightly appreciate the situation and resolve to do better in the fu- ture ! But let us return to our sheep. My hand is on the door knob, when, pit-a-pat, pit-a-pat, is heard the tread of tiny feet. It is Ted, my little two year old, coming to say good-bye to papa. I take him up and sing gaily : Bye, baby bunting, Papa goes a-hunting, To get a little rabbit skin To wrap the baby bunting in. How the little man crows and gurgles in glee ! Then he grows demonstrative and he wants to take off my cap. He makes a grab at my game bag. As I put him down gently he tries to disarm me and possess himself of the gun. I say, what an awful bother about the house of the sportsman is the toddling tot of a baby ! He is always getting hold of your gun swab for a fish pole or to bang the dog about. Putting holes in your fish basket with a big nail or a table knife is a supreme source of delight to 44 YOU'RE NO FOOL DOG, ARE YOU, CHARLIE?" him. He has a mania for planting carpet tacks in your hunting boots. Making smokestacks for mud houses with your brass shells is a passion with him. If he can get hold of your ammunition to make paste of the powder, and pulp of the 134 OUTIXG LIBRARY. wads, and a hopeless mixture of the shot, he is simply in his element. Give him possession of your lines and access to your fly book and he enjoys an hour of what is, to him, immense fun, but to you pronounced and positive destruction. And yet you wouldn't be without that self -same baby if to keep him cost you every shooting iron and foot of tackle you ever owned or hoped to own, and at the same time destroyed the prospect of you ever again having a " day out " on this rare old earth of ours. It is quite safe to say that the ar- ticle for which you would exchange that merry, mischievous toddler of yours, who clasps your brown neck with little white, soft arms and presses a sweet baby kiss to your bristled lips, as he sees you off on an outing, has not now an existence and you do not seem to exactly remember when it had. And you do not care whether he destroys your possessions ; they can be replaced. Yes, indeed ! Even you, most invet- erate and selfish and calloused votary of the chase you have a tender spot in your hard old heart for the baby boy. He may not be all that is orderly, obedient, non-combatable, non-destruc- tive, but still we all love him ! Not one of us, at all events, but will frankly admit that we respect him for his father's sake. Need anything more be said? And do not we also respect those who depict him in tenderness and affection ? Don't we think all the more of Scanlon A CHRISTMAS HUNT. 135 the actor for his inimitable "Peek-a- boo ?" and of Charles Mackay for his "Baby Mine?" and of Bret Harte for his "Luck of Roaring Camp ?" and of Dickens wasn't it Dickens who wrote: When the lessons and tasks all are ended, And the school for the day is dismissed, And the little ones gather around me To bid me good-bye and be kissed. Oh, the little, white arms that encircle My neck in a tender embrace ! Oh, the smiles that are halos of Heaven Shedding light in a desolate place ! Has it ever occurred to you, my friend, that the baby is the same unchanged, un- improved article since the world began ? Men are making smokeless powder, con- structing pneumatic bicycle tires, invent- ing long - distance guns, training horses down to two minutes, getting sprinters to cover 100 yards close to nine seconds revolutionizing everything, but leaving the baby the old-time brand ! People seem satisfied with the original make, and far from any movement to abol- ish it as out of date. The sentiment would appear to be pretty universal : Drear were the world without a child, Where happy infant never smiled. We sooner could the flowerets spare, The tender bud and blossom fair, Or breath of spring time in the air. I have said "bye-bye" to my tiny Ted half a dozen times and at last am about to escape during his sudden flight to an- other part of the house, when I am ar- rested by the eager cry, half in inquiry, half in jubilation, " Baby barlo ! Papa, baby barlo ! Dee ! " 130 OUTING LIBRARY. There he stands, holding up my little patent flask as though he had made a wonderful discovery. To humor the child I took the little companion, said " Ta-ta," and was in the act of slipping it back to my wife, when I decided to keep it. I am not partial to the cup that cheers and also inebriates, and yet I have an appreciation of the pocket pistol that warms, sustains and heartens in a long tramp on a zero afternoon with only a dog for companionship and the chances of bagging anything much reduced to a minimum. I stepped to the sideboard and filled the " barlo " quantum suff. " Ah, Scrib ! You're early on deck " was the grunting of the Doc. " None of the others are here yet. But I guess we'll not have long to wait. There is surely no laggard or lunkhead in our jolly sextette. On such an occasion as a Christmas Eve hunt, with an oyster supper at stake, the resources of our whole happy hunting grounds on trial, and the pluck and prowess of six rival sports in question there should certainly be no such word as * funk !' " Even as the Doc spoke Tinker drop- ped in. Hardly was he seated when Shy puffed his way into the little smoking room. We waited five minutes for the Judge, and had become impatient before Budge put in an appearance. What an assortment of unique nomen- clature ! Gun - club designations they were, of course. In polite society " Scrib " was the village editor ; " Tinker " was our general store keeper ; " The Judge " A CHRISTMAS HUNT. 137 was young Lawyer B ; "Budge" was mine host of the Queen's Arms, and the " Doc " was just the doctor our large- hearted, clever, hard-working local M. D., the life and soul of the sport-loving com- munity, as he was also the idol of the vil- lage and district for his skill, his unselfish- ness and his unvarying bonhomie. " Budge ! " exclaims the Doc. " As president of this club I fine you " " I rise to a point of order ! " breaks in the Judge. "This meeting is not yet duly open, and, at all events, this is a special one, and business of the regular order must be excluded. Referring to the con- stitution " " Oh, to thunder with the constitution ! Let us get off on our hunt ! ' And Tinker looks annihilation at the order pointer. "Well, well, fellows," laughs the Doc, "I shall rule partially in favor of both. I shall rule that Budge do tell us his latest joke as a penalty. Come now, prisoner, out with it and save your fine!" " Say, boys," begins Budge, deprecat- ingly, "don't insist. I'm sorry I was late, but the fact is I was giving elaborate or- ders for the supper, which I know it will be just my luck to get stuck for. One of my special orders was to secure a mag- nificent roast and have it cooked in Ben Jonson style." "Ben Jonson style? How is that?" queries the Doc. " ' O, rare Ben Jonson ! ' There, Mr. President," he adds, when the laugh 138 OUTING LIBRARY. ceases, " I believe that debt is squared." We have made out our list and fixed points, ranging from chipmunk, i, to bear, 1,000. " You leave out quail, I notice. Now that is an omission which " But the Judge is cut short on all sides. "Out in the wild and woolly West, from whence you have but recently emigrated to civilization and refinement," remarks the Doc, " quail are about as plentiful as hedge sparrows are here. But a quail has not been seen in this section for ten years, I'll venture to say. No, Judge, we needn't point on quail this time ! " "And yet," I observe in an encouraging tone, " who knows but we may each and all happen on a covey." " That is extravagant. But if any man should be lucky enough to bag a brace, that I may enjoy one more good square meal of quail on toast, I'll stand the sup- per." And the Judge looked straight at Budge. " Now that is what I would call extrava- gant supper for a whole party in con- sideration of a dish of quail on toast. Suppose you yourself should bag the brace. But this reminds me of the man who ordered quail on toast in a Boston restaurant. He was brought in some toast. He waited a while. Presently he called the waiter and repeated the order. 1 There -you are, sir ! ' answered Thomas. ' That ? That is toast, of course ; but where's the quail?' The waiter pointed to a small speck in the centre of each A CHRISTMAS JIUNT 139 slice, looking like a baked fly. ' Ah ! so this dish is quail on toast, is it ? ' ' Yes, sir!' ' Then you just remove it and bring me turkey on toast ! ' " We draw lots for choice of directions, and fix 8 p. M. sharp for reassembling to compare scores. My choice fell on a due north course, along which, seven miles distant, lay cover where I had scarcely ever failed to find at least fair sport and "SEVEN MILES OF HARD FOOTING IT." to take game, such as it was. And 1 went it alone barring my dog. Seven miles of hard footing it and I had only the brush of a couple of red squirrels, the wing of a chicken hawk, and the lean carcass of a small rabbit to show. I had sighted a fox far out of range, and had been taken unawares by a brace of birds which Charlie had nobly flushed and I had shockingly muffed. 140 OUTIXG LIBRARY. The dog had followed the birds deeper into the wood, leaving me angry and un- certain what to do. Suddenly I heard his yelp of rage and disappointment give place to his business bark, and I knew my pup had a tree for me. It was a sound not to be mistaken. My dog never now plays spoof with me by tongu- ing a tree for hair. His business bark means partridge every time. I hurried on as the dog gave tongue more sharp and peremptory, taking a skirt to avoid a tangled piece of underbrush as I began . to approach the critical spot. The ruins of an old shanty lay fifty yards to my left, and between them and me was a sort of cache or root cellar, the sides intact but the roof half gone. All of a sudden there broke on my ear a sound I had not heard for many a day. I listened, almost dumfounded. There it is again ! And no mistaking it. It is the pipe of a quail ! It came from a patch of meadow not many rods off, and it set every nerve in my body a-tingling. Charlie and his partridges were out of mind instanter. I had no manner of use for them at that supreme moment. " It's no stray bird ! " I mentally ejacu- lated. " Perhaps it's a regular Kansas covey ! " Heavens, what luck ! The boys the Judge quail on toast the laugh the amazement the consterna- tion I conjured all these things up in my excited brain in less time than it takes to tell it. I started forward with every fibre a-ten- " WHIR-R-R-R ! ROSE THE BIRDS." sion. I was wild to get even a glimpse of the little strangers. Suddenly enough almost to puzzle me the pipe was answered from the mouth of the old potato pit, and the next instant " whir-r-r-r ! " rose the birds, and " bang ! bang ! " I gave them right and left at a range and with a calculation that left three only to join and tell the 142 OUTIXG LIBRARY. tale to the whistler in the meadow. Seven was the drop, and the birds were as plump and pretty as ever I had set eyes on. I fairly chuckled aloud in glee at the surprise I had in store for my club mates. I sat down, took a congratula- tory nip, and actually toyed with the quail as a boy would with the first fruits of his initial day's outing with his own boughten gun ! My faithful dog Charlie had during this time stuck to his birds. I could hear his angry bark growing angrier, and I could detect, as I fancied, a shade of impatience and disappointment therein. A crack at a partridge will be a change, I thought, and so I hurried in Charlie's direction. There he sat on a rotten stump, with eyes fixed on the brushy top of a dead pine. I looked that top over, limb by limb, but not a sign of a feather could I detect. I made a circuit, and skinned every twig aloft in a vain endeavor to discover a roosting bird. I began to think the pup was daft, but I dismissed the reflection promptly as ungenerous and unfair to my trusty cocker. I make solemn affidavit that, though I could not note the sugges- tion of a partridge up that pine, my spaniel could see it as plain as a pike staff. " I'll climb the stump ! " said I. Mirabile dictu ! There, on lower limbs, one above the other and hugging the bark so close that they seemed part of it, were my missed brace ! "Bang!" and the topmost tumbles, nearly knocking his mate off as he falls. A CHRISTMAS HUNT. 143 " Bang ! " and down comes No. 2. Charlie mani- fests a sense of relieved anxiety and satisfaction that of itself re- wards me for the perplexing search. But a drowsi- ness had been creeping over me till its influ- e n c e had be- ^ come almost ir- resistible. I felt stupid and sleep-inclined. Almost without knowing what I did I pulled out my flask, poured a fair portion in the cup and drank it off. The twilight was coming on and casting its sombre shadows, avant coureurs of the black winter night that was soon to envelop the scene for a brief while, till fair Luna lit up the heavens and chased Darkness to its gloomy lair. I have an indistinct recollection of re- calling lines I have read somewhere or other : When Life's last sun is sinking slow and sad,. How cold and dark its lengthened shadows fall. They lie extended on the straightened path Whose narrow close, the grave, must end it all. " JUST A NIP." 144 OUTING LIBRARY. Oh, Life,-so grudging in your gifts, redeem By one great boon the losses of the Past ! Grant me a full imperishable Faith, And let the Light be with me till the last. Then all became a blank ! ***** " Full ? I never knew him to more than taste liquor. No, no ! You're mistaken. He has either been knocked senseless by some accident or mischance, or else he has fallen in a fit." It was the Doc who spoke. I sud- denly grew seized of consciousness to the extent of recognizing my old friend's voice. But to indicate the fact physi- cally was impossible. I lay in a sort of trance, with lips that would not open and hands that would not obey. "Oh, all right, Doc! You ought to know ! " This time I caught the voice of the Judge. " But he is in a pitiable plight. We must get to him and move him or he may perhaps perish, if he's not gone now. Drat that dog ! I don't want to shoot him ; and yet he'll tear us if we try to lay hand on his master. But lay hand on him we must. Is it a go, Doc?" " It's the only alternative, Judge. I like canine fidelity ; but hang me if this brute doesn't suit too well ! We'll have to get him out of the way and succor the man. Give it to him, Judge ! " " Stop ! " By a superhuman effort, through some agency I never could account for, I man- 14 A SPEECH BY THE DOC." aged to utter that one worcf in a sort of half expostulatory, half authoritative tone, or rather groan. It broke the spell. My eyes opened. My arms regained power. Instinctively I reached out a hand and drew my canine guardian toward me, placing a cheek against his cold, moist nose. That was enough for Charlie. The faithful brute grew wild with joy. He barked, whined, jumped, capered, pirouet- ted after his own stump, and, in a word, did the most tremendous despite to all my 146 OUTIXG LIBRARY. careful training in the line of reserved and dignified demeanor. I rose to a sitting posture and finally drew myself up on my feet, gazing around me in a bewildered, uncertain sort of way. ." Hello, boys, what's the matter?" I managed to articulate. " Hello, and what's the matter your- self?" replied the Doc. " Yes, that's precisely what we came out here to know," put in the Judge. " I guess I think yes, let me see ! I believe I I must have dropped off in a little doze, boys ! Very kind of you to look me up. Only say, you never surely meant to shoot my dog? I'd have haunt- ed both of you to your respective dying days if you had, supposing I was a cold corpse instead of a man taking a little nap." " Taking a little nap ! Hear him ! I should rather say you were. But, look here, Scrib, do your little naps always mean two or three hours of the soundest sleep a man ever slept who wasn't dead or drugged ? " " Dead or drugged, Doc ? Pshaw, you're away off. You can see for your- self I am not dead, and I can vow I wasn't drugged." " Then you've been intoxicated, by George ; and as president of the Blank- ville Gun Club I'll fine you " " Quail, as I live ! " " One two three ; three brace and a half, Doc, and beauties, too ! It does my heart good to handle the darlings. A CHRISTMAS HUNT. 147 Doc, if Scrib has been full forty times to-day, he has more than atoned for the lapsi with this glorious bag. Whoop ! Ya, ha ! There'll be quail on toast for the whole party." By the time the Judge's jubilation had ceased I had about regained my normal condition and we were ready to make tracks homeward. The clock strikes the midnight hour as I re-enter my own home. My wife sits rocking the cradle, in which lies our dar- ling Ted. She turns a weary-looking, tear-stained face to me. " It's all right, dear," I gently remark, " I'm quite safe, as you see." "I haven't the slightest doubt of it, sir," she returns, icily. "It's not of you I've been thinking, but of baby." " Baby," I repeat inquiringly. " What is the matter with him ? " "There is nothing the matter with him, but there is no telling what might have been. And all owing to your foolish in- dulgence of his fancy for bottles." "What does it mean, dear?" I venture. " It means that you had not been gone an hour when I found Ted with that little two - ounce phial you left half filled with laudanum on the lower pantry shelf yes- terday. He had evidently climbed a chair and reached it down. The cork was out and the bottle was empty. You can per- haps imagine my feelings. I didn't know whether he had taken the stuff or not, but was in an agony of anxiety on the point, you may be sure. The doctor was away hunting, you were away hunting, and here 148 OUTIXG LIBRARY. was I fairly consumed with apprehension lest my baby had poisoned himself." Like a flash the whole mystery of my stupor sleep revealed itself to me. " Baby barlo " flask laudanum phial whiskey it was all as clear as day. I said : " But it transpires he hadn't taken any of the laudanum, eh ?" " Yes, thank Heaven ! But for all of you " " Listen, please. All I want to say is that what Ted missed I got. Do you understand ?" " Do / understand ! Are you in your sane and sober senses, William? " "I have a shrewd suspicion that I am," I replied, with a slight laugh, "and being so, I will repeat it : Baby didn't down the poison ; but I guess I made up for that, because I did!" Then I told her the story. Of course I gained my point. It ended with but, no matter. The Judge stood the supper in consideration of quail on toast being incorporated in the menu, and we sat around the festive board in the Queen's Arms a week later, and talked over our Xmas Eve hunting match. No one was disposed to question the sentiment in a speech by the Doc, who declared: " Fellows, our prowess as a gun club is growing, and I verily believe the old dis- trict is getting to be once more something like a half - decent hunting ground. Let us keep together, be as men and brothers always, and I was nearly overlooking it let us invariably wash out our pocket pistols before filling 'em up afresh." HERNE THE HUNTER. BY WILLIAM PERRY BROWN. HERNE THE HUNTER was tall, brown and grizzled. The extreme roundness of his shoulders indicated strength rather than infirmity, while the severing of his great neck at a blow would have made a feudal executioner famous in his craft. An im- aginative man might have divined some- thing comely beneath the complex con- junction of lines and ridges that made up his features, but it would have been more by suggestion, however, than by any actual resemblance to beauty traceable thereon. The imprint of strength, severity and en- durance was intensified by an open con- tempt of appearance ; only to a subtle second-sight was revealed aught nobler, sweeter and sadder, like faint stars twink- ling behind filmy clouds. Some town-bred Nimrod, with a misty Shakespearean memory, had added to his former patronymic of "Old Herne" that of Windsor's ghostly visitor. The mountain- eers saw the fitness of the title, and " Herne the Hunter " became widely current. His place of abode was as ambiguous as his history, being somewhere beyond the " Dismal," amid the upper caves and gorges of the Nantahalah. The Dis- mal was a weird, wild region of brake and laurel, walled in by lonely mountains, 150 UTING LIBRAE Y. with a gruesome outlet between two great cliffs, that nearly met in mid-air hundreds of feet over a sepulchral canon, boulder- strewn, and thrashed by a sullen torrent, that led from a dolorous labyrinth, gloomy at midday, and at night resonant with fierce voices and sad sighings. Far down in Whippoorwill Cove, the mountaineers told savage tales of adven- ture about the outskirts of the Dismal, yet, beyond trapping round the edges or driv- ing for deer, it was to a great extent a terra incognita to all, unless Herne the Hunter was excepted. " The devil air in the man, 'nd hopes him out'n places no hones' soul keers to pester hisse'f long of." This was common opinion, though a few averred that " Old Herne 'nd the devil wern't so master thick atter all." Said one : " Why, the dinged old fool totes his Bible eroun' ez riglar ez he do his huntin'-shirt. Onct when the parson wuz holdin' the big August meetin' down ter Ebeneezer Meetin'-house, he stepped in. The meetin' was a gittin' ez cold ez hen's feet, 'nd everybody a lookin' at Herne the Hunter, when down he draps onto his knees, 'nd holdin' on by his rifle he 'gun ter pray like a house afire. Wai, he prayed 'nd he prayed, 'twel the people, arter thur skeer wuz over, 'gun ter pray 'nd shout too, 'nd fust they all knowed, the front bench wuz plum full of mou'ners. Wai, they hed a hog-killin' time fur a while, 'nd all sot on by Herne the Hunter, but when they quieted down 'nd begun ter luk fer him by jing ! he wern't thar. Nobody HERNE THE HUNTER. 151 hed seed him get erway, 'nd that set 'em ter thinkin', 'nd the yupshot wuz they hed the bes' meetin' old Ebeneezer hed seed in many a year." Once a belated hunter discovered, when the fog came down, that he was lost amid the upper gorges of the Nantahalahs. While searching for some cranny wherein to pass the night, he heard a voice seem- ingly in mid-air before him, far out over an abyss of seething vapor which he feared concealed a portion of the dreaded Dismal. Memories of Herne the Hunter crowded upon him, and he strove to retrace his steps, but fell into a trail that led him to a cave which seemed to bar his further way. The voice came nearer ; his blood chilled as he distinguished imprecations, prayers and entreaties chaotically mingled, and all the while approaching him. He fled into the cave, and peeking thence, beheld a shadowy form loom through the mist, gesticulating as it came. A whiff blew aside shreds of the fog, and he saw Herne the Hunter .on the verge of a dizzy cliff, shaking his long rifle, his hair disheveled, his eyes dry and fiery, and his huge frame convulsed by the emotions that dominated him. The very fury and pathos of his passion were terrifying, and the watcher shrank back as old Herne, suddenly dropping his rifle, clutched at the empty air, then paused dejectedly. "Always thus ! " he said, in a tone of deep melancholy. " Divine in form transfigured beautiful oh, so beautiful ! yet ever with the same accursed face. I have prayed over these visitations. I, 152 UTING LIBRAE Y. have sought in God's Word that confirma- tion of my hope which should yet save me from despair ; but, when rising from my supplications, the blest vision confronts me the curse is ever there thwarting its loveliness reminding me of what was, but will never be again." He drew a tattered Bible from his bosom and searched it intently. He was a sight at once forbidding and piteous, as he stood with wind-fluttered garments, his foot upon^the edge of a frightful precipice, his head bent over the book as though de- vouring with his eyes some sacred antidote against the potency of his sorrow. Then he looked up, and the Bible fell from his hands. His eyes became fixed ; he again clutched at the air, then fell back with a despairing gesture, averting his face the while. " Out of my sight ! " he cried. " Your eyes are lightning, and your smile is death. I will have no more of you no more ! And yet O God ! O God ! what dare I what can I do without you ? " He staggered back and made directly for the cavern. The watcher shrank back, while Herne the Hunter brushed blindly by, leaving Bible and rifle on the rock without. Then the wanderer, slipping out, fled down the narrow trail as though there were less peril from the dizzy cliffs around than in the society of the strange man whose fan- cies peopled these solitudes with such soul- harrowing phantoms. Thus for years Herne the Hunter had been a mystery, a fear, and a fascination to the mountaineers ; recoiling from men, HERNE THE HUNTER. 153 abhorring women, rebuffing curiosity, yet* at times strangely tender, sad, and ever morbidly religious. He clung to his Bible as his last earthly refuge from his darker self, and to the aspirations it engendered as a bane to the fatalistic stirrings within him. He was a mighty hunter and lived upon the proceeds of his skill. Once or twice a year he would appear at some mountain store, fling down a package of skins, and demand its worth in powder and lead. The jean-clad loungers would regard him askance, few venturing to idly speak with him, and none repeating the experiment. His mien daunted the boldest. If women were there he would stand aloof until they left ; on meeting them in the road he would sternly avert his eyes as though from a distasteful presence. One day the wife of a storekeeper, waiting on him in her husband's absence, ventured to say, while wrapping up his purchases : " I've all'ays wonnered, Mr. Herne, what makes ye wanter git outen the wimmen folks' way ? Mos' men likes ter have 'em eroun'." Herne the Hunter frowned heavily, but made no reply. " I'm shore, if ye had a good wife long with ye way up thar whur ye live, she'd make ye a leetle more like a man 'nd less like a a " she hesitated over a term which might censure yet not give offense. "Like a beast you would say." He ex- claimed then with vehemence : "Were the necks of all women in one, and had I my hands on it, I'd strangle them all, though hell were their portion thereafter." 154 UTING LIBRAE Y. He made a gesture as of throttling a giant, snatched his bundle from the woman's hand and took himself off up the road with long strides. ***** That night was a stormy one. Herne the Hunter was covering the last ten miles between him and the Dismal in a pelting rain. The incident at the store, trivial as it was, had set his blood aflame. He prayed and fought against himself, oblivi- ous of the elements and the darkness, shel- tering his powder beneath his shirt of skins where his Bible lay secure. In his ears was the roar of wind and the groans of the tortured forest. Dark ravines yawned beside him, out of which the wolf howled and the mountain owl laughed ; and once came a scream like a child, yet stronger and more prolonged. He knew the panther's voice, yet he heeded nothing. At last another cry, unmistakably hu- man, rose nearer by. Then he paused, like a hound over a fresher scent, until it was repeated. He made his way around a shoulder of the mountain, and aided by the gray light of a cloud-hidden moon, approached the figures of a woman, a boy and a horse, all three dripping and motion- less. " Thank God ! we will not die here, after all," exclaimed the female, as Herne the Hunter grimly regarded them. " Oh, sir, we have missed the way. This boy was guiding me to the survey camp of Captain Renfro, my husband, on the upper Swana- noa. He has sprained his foot, and we HERNK THE HUNTER. 155 have been lost for hours. Can you take us to a place of shelter ? I will pay you well " " I hear a voice from the pit," said Herne, fiercely. " It is the way with your sex. You think, though you sink the world, that with money you can scale Heaven. Stay here rot starve perish what care I ! " After this amazing outburst he turned away, but her terror of the night overbore her fear of this strange repulse, and she grasped his arm. He shook himself free, though the thrill accompanying her clasp staggered him. For years no woman's hand had touched him ; but at this rebuff she sank down, crying brokenly : " What shall I do ? I should not have started. They warned me below, but I thought the boy knew the way. Oh, sir ! if you have a heart, do not leave us here." "A heart!" he cried. "What's that? A piece of flesh that breeds endless woes in bosoms such as yours. All men's should be of stone as mine is now ! " He paused, then said abruptly : " Up with you and follow me. I neither pity nor sympathize ; but for the sake of her who bore me, I will give you such shelter as I have." He picked up the boy, who, knowing him, had sat stupefied with fear, and bade the woman follow him. " But the horse ? " she said, hesitating. " Leave it," he replied. " The brute is the best among you, but whither we go no horse may follow." He turned, taking up the boy in his arms, and she dumbly followed him, trem- bling, faint, yet nerved by her fears to 156 UTING LIBRAE Y. unusual exertion. So rapfd was his gait, encumbered though he was, that she kept him in view with difficulty. Through the gloom she could divine the perils that environed their ever upward way. The grinding of stricken trees, the brawl of swollen waters harrowed her nerves not less than the partial gleams of unmeasured heights and depths revealed by the light- ning. A sense of helplessness exaggerated these terrors among the unknown possibil- ities surrounding her. It seemed as though they would never stop again. Her limbs trembled, her heart thumped suffocatingly, yet their guide gave no heed, but pressed on as though no shivering woman pantingly dogged his steps. They traveled thus for several miles. She felt herself giving way totally when, on looking up once more, she saw that the hunter had vanished. " Where am I ? " she cried, and a voice, issuing seemingly out of the mountain-side, bade her come on. Her hands struck a wall of rock ; on her right a precipice yawned ; so, groping toward the left, she felt as she advanced that she was leaving the outer air ; the wind and rain no longer beat upon her, yet the darkness was intense. She heard the voice of the boy calling upon her to keep near. Into the bowels of the mountains she felt her way until a gleam of light shone ahead. She hastened forward round a shoulder of rock into a roomy aperture branching from the main cavern. The boy lay upon a pallet of skins, while Herne the Hunter fixed the HEENE THE HUNTER. 157 flaring pine-knot he had lighted into a crevice of the rock. Then he started a fire, drew out of another crevice some cold cooked meat and filled a gourd with water from a spring that trickled out at one end of the cave. " Eat," he said, waving his hand. " Eat that ye may not die. The more unfit to live, the less prepared for death. Eat ! " With that he turned away and busied himself in bathing and bandaging the boy's foot, which, though not severely sprained, was for the time quite painful. Mrs. Renfro now threw back the hood of her waterproof and laid the cloak aside. Even old Herne women hater that he was could not have found fault with the matronly beauty of her face, unless with its expression of self-satisfied worldliness, as of one who judged others and herself solely by conventional standards, shaped largely by flattery and conceit. She was hungry her fears were some- what allayed, and though rather disgusted at such coarse diet, ate and drank with some relish. Meanwhile, Herne the Hun- ter turned from the boy for something, and beheld her face for the first time. A water-gourd fell from his hands, his eyes dilated, and he crouched as he gazed like a panther before its unsuspecting prey. Every fibre of his frame quivered, and drops of cold sweat stood out upon his forehead. The boy saw with renewed fear this new phase of old Herne's dreaded idiosyncrasies. Mrs. Renfro at length raised her eyes and beheld him thus. In- stantly he placed his hands before his face, 158 UTIXd LIBRAE Y. and abruptly left the cavern. Alarmed at his appearance, she ran toward the boy, exclaiming : " What can be the matter with him? Do you know him? " " I knows more of him 'n I wants ter," replied the lad. " Oh, marm, that's old Herne, 'nd we uns air the fust ones ez hev be'n in hyar whar he stays. I ganny ! I thort shore he'd hev yeaten ye up." " Well, but who is he ? " " Well, they do say ez. the devil yowns him, not but what he air powerful 'ligyus. No one knows much 'bouten him, 'cep'n* he's all'ays a projeckin' eround the Dismal whar no one yelse wants ter be." " Has he been here long ? " " Yurs 'nd yurs, they say." Tommy shook his head as though unable to meas- ure the years during which Herne the Hunter had been acquiring his present unsavory reputation, but solved the riddle by exclaiming : " I reckon he hev all'ays be'n that-a-way." An hour or more passed. Tommy fell asleep, while the lady sat musing by his side. She did not feel like sleeping, though much fatigued. Finally she heard a deep sigh behind her, and turning saw the object of her fears regarding her sombrely. The sight of her face appeared to shock him, for he turned half away as he said : " You have eaten the food that is the curse of life, in that it sustains it. Yet such we are. Sleep, therefore, for you have weary miles to go, ere you can reach the Swananoa." There was an indescribable sadness in HERNE THE HUNTER. 159 his tone that touched her, and she re- garded him curiously. "Who are you," she asked, " and why do you choose to live in such a place as this ? " " Ask naught of me," he said, with an energy he seemed unable to repress. " Ask rather of yourself who am I and how came I thus." He struck himself upon the breast, and without awaiting an answer again abruptly left the cave. She sat there wondering, trying to -weave into definite shape certain vague impressions suggested by his pres- ence, until weariness overcame her and she slept. Hours after, Herne the Hunter re- entered the cave, bearing a torch. His garments were wet, the rain-drops clung to his hair, and his face was more haggard than ever. He advanced towards the slumbering woman softly, and stood over her, gazing mournfully upon her, while large tears rolled down his cheeks. Then his expression changed to one that was stern and vindictive. His hand nervously toyed with the knife in his belt. Milder thoughts again seemed to sway him, and his features worked twitchingly. " I cannot, I cannot," he whispered to himself. " The tears I thought forever banished from these eyes return at this sight. There has never been another who could so move me. Though thou hast been my curse, and art yet my hell I cannot do it. Come ! protector of my soul ; stand thou between me and all murderous thoughts ! " 160 OUTING LIBRARY. He drew his Bible from his bosom, kissed it convulsively, then held it as though to guard her from himself, and drawing backward slowly, he again fled into the storm and darkness without. * * * * * The gray light of morning rose over the Dismal, though within the cave the gloom still reigned supreme, when Herne the Hunter again stood at the entrance hold- ing a flaring light. Then he said aloud: " Wake, you that sleep under the shadow of death ! Wake, eat, and pass* on ! " Mrs. Renfro aroused herself. The boy, however, slept on. Herne fixed his torch in the wall, and replenished the fire. Then he withdrew, apparently to give the lady privacy in making her toilet. She was stiff in limb and depressed in mind. After washing at the spring, she wandered listlessly about the cave, survey- ing old Herne's scanty store of comforts. Suddenly she paused before a faded picture, framed in long, withered moss, that clung to an abutment of the rock. It was that of a girl, fair, slender and ethereal. There was a wealth of hair, large eyes, and features so faultless that the witching sense of self-satisfaction permeating them, added to rather than marred their loveli- ness. The lady glancing indifferently sud- denly felt a thrill and a pain. A deadly sense of recognition nearly overcame her, as this memento confronting her like a resurrected chapter of the past made clear the hitherto inexplicable behavior of their host. She recovered, and looked HERNE THE HUNTER. 161 upon it tenderly, then shook her head gently and sighed. " You cannot recognize it ! " said a deep voice behind her. " You dare not ! For the sake of your conscience your hope in heaven your fear of hell you dare not recognize and look upon me ! " She did not look round, though she knew that Herne the Hunter stood frown- ing behind, but trembled in silence as he went on with increasing energy : " What does that face remind you of ? See you aught beneath that beauty but treachery without pity, duplicity without shame ? Lo ! the pity and the shame you should have felt have recoiled upon me me, who alone have suffered." He broke off abruptly, as though choked by emotion. She dared not face him ; she felt incapa- ble of a reply. After a pause, he resumed, passionately : " Oh ! Alice, Alice ! The dead rest, yet the living dead can only endure. Amid these crags, and through- out the solitude of years, I have fought and refought the same old battle ; but with each victory it returns upon me, strengthened by defeat, while with me all grows weaker but the remorselessness of memory and the capacity for pain." She still stood, with bowed head, shiver- ing as though his words were blows. " Have you nothing to say ? " he asked. " Does that picture of your own youth recall no vanished tenderness for one who self-outcast of men fell to that pass through you ? " " I have a husband," she murmured, almost in a whisper. 162 UTING LIBRAE Y. " Aye, and because of that husband I have no wife no wife no wife ! " His wail- ing repetition seemed absolutely heart- broken ; but sternly he continued : " You have told me where he is. I say to you hide him hide him from me ! Even this" he struck his bosom with his Bible feverishly " may not save him. I have prayed and wrought, but it is as noth- ing nothing when I think when I re- member. Therefore, hide him from me lest I slay him " " You would not you dare not harm him ! " She faced him now, a splendid picture of an aroused wife and mother. " He is not to blame he knew you not he has been good to me and and I love him." He shrank from the last words as though from a blow, and stood cowering. Then he hissed out : " Let me not find him. Hide him hide him ! " Tommy here awoke with a yawn, and announced that his foot was about well. Herne, closing his lips, busied himself about preparing breakfast, which cheerless meal was eaten in silence. When they finally emerged from the cave the sun was peep- ing into the Dismal below them ; bright gleams chased the dark shadows down the cliffs, and the morning mists were melting. The storm was over ; there was a twitter of birds, the tinkle of an overflowing burn, and a squirrel's bark emphasizing the freshness of the morn. The pure air entered the lips like wine, and Mrs. Renfro felt her depression roll off as they HEJKNE THE HUNTER. 163 retraced the devious trail of the night before. They found the lady's horse standing dejectedly near where he had been left. The fog, in vast rolls, was climbing out of the Dismal, disclosing dark masses of forest below. The flavor of pine and bal- sam slept beneath the trees, every grass blade was diamond -strewn, and every sound vivified by the sense of mighty walls and unsounded depths. After Mrs. Renfro had mounted, Herne the Hunter swept an arm around. The scene was savage and sombre, despite the sunlight. The intensity of the solitude about them dragged upon the mind like a weight. " Behold," he said sadly, " this is my world. I can tolerate no other." She inwardly shuddered ; then a wave of old associations swept over her mind. Beneath the austerity of the man, beyond his selfish nurture of affliction, she for the moment remembered him as he once was, homely, kindly, enthusiastic and true. Had she indeed changed him to this ? Or was it not rather the imperative- ness of a passion, unable to endure or for- get her preference of another ? Whatever the cause, her heart now ached for him, though she feared him. " Come with us," she said. " You were not made to live thus." " I cannot I dare not. It will take months to undo the misery of this meet- ing." " My husband" " Do not name him ! " he cried fiercely ; 164 OUTING LIBRARY. then abruptly lowering his tone, he said, with infinite sadness : " Ask me no more. Yonder, by that white cliff, lies the Swan- anoa trail you missed yesterday. The kindest thing you can do is to forget that you have seen me. Farewell ! " He turned away and swung himself down the mountain-side into the Dismal. She saw the rolling mists close over him, and remained motionless in a reverie so deep that the boy spoke twice to her before she turned her horse's head and followed him. * * * # * Above the surveyor's camp lay the Swananoa Gap, a gloomy, precipitous gorge through which the river lashed itself into milder reaches below. Mrs. Renfro found her husband absent. With a single assistant he had started for the upper de- files, intending to be gone several days. They told her that he would endeavor to secure the services of Herne the Hunter as a guide, as one knowing more of that wilderness than any one else. Here was fresh food for wifely alarm. Herne had never met her husband, yet the latter's name would make known his re- lationship to herself. She shuddered over the possibilities that might result from their sojourn together far from aid in those wild mountains, and made herself wretched for a week in consequence. Meanwhile the transient fine weather passed ; the rains once more descended, and the peaks of Nantahalah were invisi- ble for days amid a whirl of vapor. The boom of the river, the grinding of forest limbs, the shriek of the wind, made life HERNE THE HUNTER. 165 unusually dreary at the camp. She lay awake one night when the elements were apparently doing their worst. Her hus- band was still absent perhaps alone with a possible maniac, raving over the memory of fancied wrongs. Finally another sound mingled with and at last overmastered all others something between a crash and a roar, interblended with sullen jars and grindings. Near and nearer it came. She sprang to the tent- floor and found her feet in the water. The darkness was intense. What could be the matter ? Fear overcame her resolution- and she shrieked aloud. A man bearing a lantern burst into the tent with a hoarse cry. Its gleams showed her Hernethe Hunter, drenched, draggled, a ghastly cut across his face, with the blood streaming down, his long hair flying, and in his eyes a fierce flame. " I feared I would not find you," he shouted, for the roar without was now ap- palling. " It is a cloud-burst above. In five minutes this hollow will be fathoms deep. The tents lower down are already gone. Come ! " He had seized and was bearing her out. " Save alarm the others ! " she cried. "You first Alice." In that dread moment she detected the hopelessness with which he called her thus, as though such recognition was wrung from his lips by the pain he hugged, even while it rended him. " My husband ? " she gasped, growing faint over the thought of his possible peril or death. 166 UTING LIBRAE I . " Safe," he hissed through his clenched teeth, for his exertions were tremendous. With a fierce flap the tent was swept away as they left it. About his knees the waters swirled, while limbs and other float- ing debris swept furiously by. What seemed to her minutes though really seconds passed amid a terrific jumble of sounds, while the rain fell in sheets. It seemed as though the invisible mountains were dissolving. They were, however, slowly rising above the floods. She heard Herne's hard breathing, and felt his wild heart-throbs as he held her close. Something heavy struck them, or rather him, for he shielded her. One of his arms fell limp, and he groaned heavily. Then she swooned away, with a fleeting sensation of being grasped by some one else. Later, when she revived, there was a great hush in the air. Below, the river gently brawled ; there was a misty dark- ness around, and the gleam of a lantern held before a dear and familiar form. " Husband is it you ? " she murmured. " Yes, yes," said Captain Renfro, " I thought I had lost you. You owe your life to Herne the Hunter. In fact, but for him I would have been overwhelmed my- self." " Where is he ? " she asked feebly. " The men are searching for him. Just as one of them got hold of you, he fell back something must have struck him, and the flood swept him off. I tell you, Alice, that man crazy or not is a hero. We were on our way down and had camped HERNE THE HUNTER. 167 above the Gap, when the cloud-burst came. We knew you all would be overwhelmed before we could get round here by the trail ; so what does Herne do but send us on horseback by land, while he scoots down that canon in a canoe little better than an eggshell. Risked his life in that awful place to get here in time. I insisted on going with him at first." " Just like you, George," said the wife fondly, though in her mind's eye came a vision of Herne the Hunter battling with that Niagara to save and unite the two, through whom his own life had been made a burden. She sighed and clasped her husband's hand, while he resumed : " I was a fool, I expect, for the canoe would have swamped under both of us. He knew this, and ordered me off with a look I did not like ; there was madness in it. Well, we hurried round by the trail with one lantern ; Herne took the other. When we got here, you were apparently dead, Herne and two of the men swept off the camp gone from below, and so on." A cry was now heard. Several men hastened down, and soon lights were seen returning. Four of them bore Herne the Hunter. One arm and a leg were broken, and his skull crushed in ; yet the wonder- ful vitality of the man had kept him alive and sensible. "We found him clinging to a sapling,*' said one. " But he's about gone poor fellow ! " Poor fellow, indeed ! Mrs. Renfro felt the lumps rise in her throat as she gazed upon that wreck, and thought. Presently 168 OUTING LIBRARY. Herne opened his eyes already filling with the death-mist and his gaze fell upon her face. "Alice," he whispered, "my troubles are over. This " he tugged at something in his bosom with his uninjured arm, when some one drew forth his Bible, drenched and torn "this saved me. I could have killed him " he glanced at Renfro, who amid his pity now wondered. " I could but I saved you. And now Jesus have mercy " These were his last words, for in another minute Herne the Hunter was a thing of the past, and a weeping woman bent over him. After that there was silence for a while. Then the wife said to her hus- band, while the others removed the dead man : " It was his misfortune, not my fault, that he loved me. Has he not made amends ? " And the husband, with his hands clasped in hers, could find no other heart than to say: " Aye most nobly ! " UNCLE DUKE'S "B'AR" STORY. BY LILLIAN GILFILLAN. I 'LOWED ez mebbe you uns ud like ter hear thet thar b'ar story. I reckon it's ten year this December since it all hap- pened. I war a-livin* up in thet house on th' edge uv th' corn fiel' 'long side th' branch, an' ef it 't'warn't fer thet b'ar I'd be a-livin' thar yet, 'stead uv a settin' in th' warm corner uv Jim Ladd's fireplace. I 'low ez yer knowed Jim didn't hev no great sight uv worldly efects when he married Becky Crabtree ; I don't reckon his daddy war able ter do much fer him, 'ceptin' 'lowin' him the use uv thet yoke uv ole steers uv his'n. Thet war afore they moved th' mill out'n th' holler yander, so it war right handy fer Jim ter haul his logs ter, an' he jes' worked hisse'f plumb nigh ter death a-gettin' up thet leetle log house uv his'n, an' a-plantin' fruit trees an' sech, an' all summer Becky worked jes' ez hard a-berry pickin', tendin' her truck patch an' a-ped- dlin' up ter th' station. An' in th' winter time when Jim war a- makin' dish shelves an' a-puttin' some new splits inter th' bottoms uv them ole 170 OUTING LIBRARY. chiers his daddy give him, Becky war a-peecin' quilts an* a-spinnin' cloth fer dresses. Waal, in th' spring they war married an' went ter live in ther house on th' side uv th' mounting, out'n no neigh- bors, 'ceptin' me, fer a mile or more down th' cove. Thet war th' spring I war tuck so bad with this misery in my back an' afore summer I war so cript up I warn't no 'count whatever. One raornin' jes' ez I war a gettin' up from afore the fire whar I hed been a- eatin* a snack uv breakfast, Becky walked in, lookin' ez fresh ez a fiel' uv early corn, and sez : " Uncle Duke, I 'lowed I'd come in an* see how you war an* rid up a leetle fur yer." I h'ant never been used ter wimen folks, an' I could'nt git th' consent uv my mind ter set by an' see every thin' pot out'n its nat'ral place, so I reched my stick an' out'n sayin' nothin' I riz up an' went out under th' big gum tree. It warn't long afore Becky kem out with her bucket on her arm, an' sez : " Good-bye, Uncle Duke. I reckon I'll be a-gittin' along ter th' berry patch yan- der." I sed, "Thank yer, Becky. Don't yer come no more ter tend ter me. I 'low you's got a plenty ter do 'out'n a-doin' thet." Yer see, I didn't want ter be pestered with her fixin', yit she was so obleegin' ter everybody I didn't want ter 'fend her by axin' her ter stay ter hum. Waal, when I UNCLE DUKE S U E AR" STORY. 171 went in an* seed how piert things looked, I jes' wished I'd a-kep' my pipe in my mouth 'stead uv a-jawin' her. Spite uv my sayin' time an' ag'in fer her ter rest when her own work war done, she kep' a-comin'. I 'lowed she seed how much I enjoyed havin' things liken white folks lived in the house. I 'low she war jes' ez bright an' happy thet year ez enny woman in the cove ez hed a plenty. An* summer an' winter she 'peared ter be always a-workin*. Waal in th' middle uv March leetle Jim kem, and I reckon thar warn't no two happier people in th' world. They war proud uv thet baby, an' no mistake. The fust time I seed Becky arter it war born, she pulled a leetle hand out'n from under th' kiver an' sez : " Uncle Duke, some day thet leetle han'll chop wood fur his mammy." Waal, it did'nt look much like handlin' an axe thin. Thet summer she use ter roll th' baby up in her daddie's ole army blanket an* take it with her berry pickin' an' peddlin' an' everywhars ; it 'peared like she didn't think its weight nothin', un' she'd go 'long th' road talkin' ter it like ez ef a baby four months ole knowed ennythin'. With th' money from her berries she bought th' winter clothes mostely things fur th' baby an' flannel shirts fur her man 'peared like she thought th' cold wouldn't tech her. It war th' last uv th' next June thet th' twins war born. This time Becky didn't 172 OUTING LIBRARY. seem ter git 'long so piert jes' lay still an' pale like, an' a lookin' at the baby gals sad an' pityin'. I reckon she war a wonderin' whar th' warm winter clothes they'd need by' an' by' war ter be got from. It warn't in reason ter 'spose a woman could tote two babies an' do much at pickin' berries. Jim worked ez hard ez enny man could, but his ole mare died jist at fodder pickin' time, an' he couldn't do much out'n a critter, so a right smart uv his crap war lost. Becky didn't seem ter get strong ez she did afore, an' her sister up an' left her sooner 'en she oughter. She seemed tar be kinder mad all th' time ter think Becky had gone an' hed twins, an* she didn't keep her 'pinions hid. I reckon Becky warn't sorry when she went back ter her man. Ez I war a-sayin', it war ten year ago this December, an' a right smart uv snow on th' ground, when Becky came by my house one mornin' ter ax me ef I'd go down an* watch th' fire an' leetle Jim fer a spell. I seed she war lookin' anxious like, an* I axed her what war th' matter " Jim went a-rabbit huntin' yesterday evenin'," she sed, " an* he ain't kem hum yit ; I reckon somethin' hes happened ter him, an' I 'lowed I'd go an' see. The babies ez both asleep an' I speck ter be home afore long." She went on up th' mounting path a- makin' fur the top, a-holpin' herse'f over the sleek places with that hickory stick uv her'n. I went on down ter th' house an' found UNCLE DUKE 8 "B AE^ STORY. 173 leetle Jim a-noddin' afore th' fire. It war about'n th' time he always tuck his nap. Pretty soon he war ez sound asleep ez ef he war on th' biggest feather bed in th' cove, 'stead uv jes' his mammy's cook apron under his little yaller head. I pot on a fresh log an' was mighty nigh asleep myse'f when one o' th' babies waked up an* cried a leetle. Somehow I got th' cradle in an awk'ard place acrost a plank ez war all warped up an* th' churnin' back an' fore waked up th' t'other 'un. She jes' lay thar a-look- in' fust at me an' then at her leetle sister, kinder onsartin whether ter cry or not. By an' by I thought I'd holp her back ter sleep, so I tuck her leetle han' an' tried ter pot her thumb in ter her mouth, but thar warn't nobody knowed enny better thin thet thar baby thet she didn't want no thumb feedin'. I got up an' went fur some milk, fust a-lookin' out'n th' door ter see ef Becky war a-comin'. Seein' ez thar warn't no sign uv her no- whar, I 'lowed I try ter feed th' young uns, beein's th' both uv them war a-doin' ther best at cryin'. They didn't seem ter take much ter my feedin' ; I reckon thet war 'cause I didn't set th' milk afore th' fire fust, an' some- how it 'peared like th' milk most in gen- eral went down th' outside uv ther necks ; an' Annie (that war th' little un) kept a chokin' tell I had ter take her up. Jes' ez soon ez thet leetle critter got whar she could look 'round an* sense things, she 'peared quite satisfied. 174 OUTING LIBRARY. 1 managed ter git t'other un (Fannie) out'n the cradle. They jumped an* twisted tell I thought I'd die uv the mis- ery in my back, but whin I pot them down they yelled like hallelujer ! Teard like they'd kept me a-dancin' a powerful long time, whin I heerd voices an' I 'lowed Becky war come, but it turned out ter be Mitch Pendergrass an f Sonk Levan, with some rabbits an' ther guns. They bed stopped by ter git warm. Whin they seed me a-settin' thar nussin' two babies ter onct they bust out larfin'. Fannie hed holt uv my left year an* the leetle hair I hed on my head. Annie war a-sittin' on my knee a gazin* at Sonk an* Mitch, a-wonderin' why they war a-larfin'. " I 'low, Uncle Duke," sez Sonk, " ez yer've tuck ter larnin* nussin' late in life. It shows yer pluck ter commence on two ter onct. Whar's Becky ? " " She air gone ter look fer Jim," sez I. "He went out a-huntin' last night an' he ain't never come hum this mornin'. She war oneasy ' bout him an' went out ter look fur him. 'Lowed ez she'd be hum afore this." Mitch went ter the door an* looked out an' thin comin' back ter th' fire, sez he: " It's arter twelve o'clock, nigh ez I kin calkerlate. Thar seems ter be a big black cloud a-hangin' over th' Top. " Becky ought'en ter be out in no sich. I reckon we'd better be a-movin'. Mebbe Jim's happened ter an accite/// an' she's a-tryin* ter holp him by herse'f. " She's plucky, she is." UNCLE DUKE'S "B'AR" STORY. 175 41 Waal," sez Sonk, " Mitch, you give Uncle Duke a lesson in baby feedin' (the father uv ten ought'n ter know somethin' bout'n thet business); I'll tote in enough wood ter burn a spell, an' thin we'll light out'n hyar an' hunt up Becky an' Jim." Arter Mitch's learnin' me ter hold th' spoon un' ter warm th' milk an' ter pot in sweetenin' me an* th' babies got on fine. Soon I tied them both sleepin', kivered up ter th 1 years, an' th' cradle sot in a warm place. Then I began ter feel powerful hungry, an' leetle Jim, though he ain't sed nothin', hed been a-watchin' thet thar spoon an' milk cup while I fed th' babies, an' a openin' his mouth long side uf them. I skun one uv Sonk's rabbits, an' it warn't no time tel th' corn bread war a-cookin' in th' bake pan an* th' rabbit a-jumpin' up in th' grease. Arter dinner Jim set on my knee jes' ez quiet, never axin' fer his mammy onct, an' thim babies slept on jes' like they knowed they war twins an' ther mammy gone. Pretty soon it began ter get dark an* th' snow war a-fallin' ag'in a leetle. Jim went ter sleep an' I pot him ter bed. The time 'peared ter go powerful slow arter that, an' I began ter nod. It must have been eight o'clock whin voices in th' yard waked me. I opened th' door an' Mitch called out : " Stir up the fire an' give us a leetle more light. Thar ain't no bones broke, but Jim don't feel egsactly piert." They brung him in an' his face war jes' ez pale an' he looked powerful weak. 176 OUTING LIBRARY. Most of his coat war tore of en him an* th' blood war a-droppin' from a place in his arm. Becky looked plumb wore out, but th' fust thin' she did soon ez Jim war on th' bed war ter lean over th' cradle an' sez : " Uncle Duke, war my babies good ? " "Jes^ez good ez two leetle angels," I sed, spitin* th' fact th' side uv my head war pretty sore from ther pullin' an' scratchin'. She helped ter git Jim's arm wrapped up an' him warm in bed, an' thin began ter get supper, like nothin' hed happened out'n th' common. Whin I seed how pale she looked, I sed : "Jus' yer git out th' plates an' I'll tend the fire. I 'low arter cookin' fer nigh thirty year, I kin git a snack yer can eat." It twarn't long until another rabbit war in th' pan an* th' coffee a-boilin'. Jim looked up whin he smelt the cookin' an' sez : " I reckon we'll hev a little bigger meat fer to-morrow." I war jes' ez curious ez enny ole woman, but everybody was so tired an' hungry I didn't ax anny questions. Becky war a-sittin' in a low chier afore th' fire with leetle Jim on her lap a-warm- in' his leetle feet in her han'. I could see th' tears war a-chasin' each other down her face. Mon ! but they did eat. Jim, too, and I had ter git th' cold meat left from din- ner ter hev enough. When they hed got up from th' table Sonk sed : UNCLE DUKE'S "B'AR" STORY. 177 " Mitch, your wife'll need you with all thim chil'n ; I 'low you'd better be a-goin'. I reckon I'll stop hyer ; step by an' tell Sallie ter hev breakfast early, an' tell leetle Lular pappy'll be home in th' mornin'. You hev th' mules ready early ; I am afeard uv th' varmints a-gittin' Becky's game." Arter Mitch war gone an' things picked up they told me ther story. Tears like thar warn't no trouble in a trackin' Becky up ter th' top, an' they found her a-tryin' ter work Jim out'n a hole in th' bluff. Th' night afore, jes' ez Jim war a- makin' fur hum with his game, he hed run agin' a big b'ar. He up an' fired, but missed, it bein' most dark. The b'ar war on him afore he could load agin, an' makin' a pass at him with its big paw, knocked th' musket out'n his han's an' bruck it plumb in two. Jim hed jes' time ter make up a saplin' an' Mr. B'ar set down under him ter bide his time. He sot thar a long spell, an' it war most midnight, nigh ez Jim could tell, whin the b'ar made off an' lay down, seein' Jim warn't willin' ter come down an' be et. Waal, Jim decided thin he would come down an' run fur it, 'lowin' a hot chase war better'n freezin' up thar. So down he clumb an' lit out, Mr. B'ar arter him. Jes' ez they struck the bluff path the b'ar got so near thet it riz up an* grabbed him. Jim bein' quick got away, leavin' Mr. B'ar most uv his coat ter 'mem- ber him by, but in backin' away he wint too far an' fell inter a crack in th' bluff. 178 OUTING LIBRARY. It warn't very nice fallin', but the crack warn't over four feet deep an' full uv leaves at the bottom, so bein' out'n the wind they made a more comfortable place ter spend th' night in then th' saplin'. Pretty soon Jim hed occasion ter know he war hurt some. The bar had tore his left arm right smart an' in fallin' his face hed got skun up dreadful. Th' b'ar walked up an* down, a-smellin' down thet crack sorter much like, but by-an'-by he went off a leetle an' lay down, I spect arguin' with hisse'f thet Jim would come out'n th' hole liken he did out'n th' saplin.' Jim wrapped up his arm the best he could with a piece uv his shirt sleeve. It war daylight when he waked an* th' fust thin* he seed war th' head uv thet thar b'ar a-lookin' down at him. He knowed it war'n't no use ter hol- ler, so he jes' lay thar thinkin* 'bout Becky an' th' babies an' leetle Jim won- derin' ef she'd think he'd quit her. The thought uv Becky's thinkin' enny bad uv him made him groan with a new kind uv pain, an' whin he moved a leetle he fainted away. I reckon thet war jes' 'bout'n th' time Becky got thar, fer she said she heerd a groan down in thet hole an' thin all war still. She war jes' a-goin* ter call whin she spied thet b'ar a-lookin' down inter th' crack. 'Bout ten foot to th' left uv whar Jim war fust the mounting breaks away, leavin' a pres'pus uv forty foot or more, but thar's a leetle ledge at th' top whar you kin look inter thet crack in th' bluff. UNCLE DUKE'S "B*AR" STORY. 179 It war fur thet leetle ledge the b'ar made jes' ez Becky halted. When it clumb down she made sure it would git ter Jim (she war sure he war in thet crack), so she fol-' lered quiet ez she could, an th'snow bein' soft kept th' b'ar from hearing her until she war right behind it whar it war leanin' down over th f edge a-tryin' ter git inter th' crack. Tore it could turn on her she gave it a powerful push with her hick- ory stick, an' being so fur over an' so heavy the b'ar lost hisse'f, an' down he went with a crash into th' underbrush. Becky 'd gone too, only her dress war caught in some bushes an* thet saved her. She couldn't do nothin' but lay on th' ground an' rest a spell, thin she crawled ter th' edge an' looked down ter make sure th' b'ar war dead. Hearin' Jim groan agin she got up an' went ter him. He war clean gone in a faint agin be- fore she could get down ter him. When she got him to again she gave him th' flask uv milk she hed brought. She worked with him ter keep him warm, but she couldn't do much, th' place war so norrow. It seemed an age before he got so he knowed anythin', an' she had made up her mind ter leave him an' go fur help whin Sonk and Mitch got thar. An' 'twixt 'm they soon got Jim out an' laid him on the ole army blanket I hed sent, an' they axed Becky how come he thar. She told them what she knowed, but they wouldn't believe about th' b'ar until she showed them whar it lay. Whin Mitch looked over an' seed fur hisse'f he 180 OUTING LIBRARY. jis' sed 'By Gosh!' an' runnin' back to whar he could scramble down made down th' side like a coon. Sonk war about ter follow, when he stopped an' turned ter Becky, tellin' her ter see ter Jim till they could come up agin. He give her a bottle uv applejack out'n his pocket, which he said he carried fur snake bite. Becky never said nothin' 'bout'n snakes most in general stayin' in th' ground in winter time, but gave a little of the liquor ter Jim an' tuck a leetle dram herse'f. I reckon ef it hadn't been fer Sonk's snake medicine, they both a-been down sick from th' cold an' wet. Ez soon ez th' men could git a good kiverin' uv snow over th' b'ar ter keep wild cats from pesterin' it, they kem up an' took up th' ends uv Jim's blanket ter fotch him hum. It war slow work, th' path bein' steep an' norrow, an' Jim heavy, so it war eight o'clock afore they got down. Waal, th' next day they got th' bar down, an' mon ! he war a big 'un. They skim him an' put th' meat up fur sale at th' store. A young fellar from th' North ez war a-stayin' at th' station give Becky $12 fur th' hide, ter take home ter his gal, I reckon. The meat sold well, an' altergether I reckon Becky never seed so much money at one time afore in her life. She wanted ter divide with Sonk an' Mitch, but they wouldn't hear to it, an' she couldn't make them tock nary cent. Afore th' week war out she went ter th' station an' bought shoes an' warm clothes fur all an' enough ter last two winters, an' soon UNCLE DUKE'S B'AR" STORY. 181 Becky's fingers war busy. She made some red flannel shirts fur me, 'cause she sed they be good fer th' misery in my back. An' whin I sed my fire hed been out a week an' I'd eat enough uv other folks' corn bread an' coffee, Becky up and sed : " I 'low ez yer'd better stay, Uncle Duke ; I've got a sight uv sewin' ter do an' yer got ter be so handy with th' babies I can't hardly spare yer." Arter thet we jined corn fiel's an' next year war a powerful good one fer craps an' fruit. I tended th' chil'n while Becky went fur berries and did her peddlin'. We ain't a-gettin' rich, but we has a plenty, an' I don't reckon we air got anythin' in a worldly line to ax th' Lord fur he ain't already done give us. A CIGARETTE FROM CARCINTO. A BIT OF MEXICAN ADVENTURE. BY EDWARD FRENCH. W r E were sitting in the 'hotel in San Antonio, and the con- ^versation had taken that satisfactory turn and confidential col- oring which it will take amongst con- f genial companions round an open wood fire. We had been expressing our individual opinions about men and things, especially men, and had de- rived a sleepy satisfaction from our general criticisms. There were mer) among us who had seen a good deal of frontier life, and, as one man said, "he had seen so many men die with their boots on, it seemed the natural end." My nearest neighbor in the cir- cle was a young artist from New Or- leans, known throughout the city as "Jim the Painter," from the art he practiced to get his living. He turned and asked me if I knew Jack Dim- ton ; and when I denied the honor, he said : " Well, you ought to ; he is a map of the w r hole Indian country." A CIGARETTE FROM CARC1NTO 183 This awakened my interest. I found that Dunton was living in San Antonio, that his life had been really wonderful in experiences and adventures, that he was very intelligent as well as reck- lessly brave, and finally, that his ac- quaintance was worth any man's time to cultivate. Later in the evening we walked over to Dunton's office, a long, pleasant room in the second story of a flat-roofed adobe building that covered nearly half an acre. Both its stories were crammed full of the goods he sold wagons, harnesses, and all sorts of agricultural tools. Dunton's own room was a mighty in- teresting place, principally in its decora- tions. The walls and doorways were hung with bright-colored and strange-figured Mojave and Navajoe blankets, skins and weapons were scattered around or ar- ranged as trophies, while clumsy and rude implements of Aztec and Mexican fashioning, from Yucatan to Chihuahua, were suspended against the sides, or heaped in the corners. A large open fire, with blazing cedar logs, filled the room with the aromatic odor so pleas- ant and characteristic of that wood, and lighted it with fitful glares. There were many interesting stories connected with this collection, and every article in the room seemed to remind Dunton of an experience or incident in his varied career. After being introduced and comfortably seated in a chair, he passed us cigars, and while we were lighting these preliminaries to sociability he drew 184 OUTING LIBRARY. a square of corn husk from one side- pocket of his sack coat and a pinch of to- bacco from the other side-pocket, and quietly rolled a cigarette, which gave out a pungent, penetrating odor. It was not disagreeable, but it struck me as being peculiar, even for Texas. Upon remark- ing that it seemed different from ordi- nary tobacco, Dunton replied, " It is, and I have good reason to like it, for once it saved my life." This aroused my curiosity, and with some little urging he told us the story. "This tobacco," said Dunton, "comes from the town of Carcinto, quite a mining settlement of adobe houses and stockades, surrounding a Mexican con- vict station in the center of the state of Chihuahua. It is made by the convicts, who treat the ordinary tobacco with the juice of a native plant, which gives it the pungent flavor you notice and, I suspect, a slight narcotic power; be that as it may, now that I am used to it, other tobacco is flat and tasteless. I was down there some years ago, trying to sell the mine-owners some carts, har- ness, and things in my line, and I be- came well acquainted with the nature of these convicts, and I tell you, I would rather take my chances in a den of mountain lions than among those fellows when they revolt. At such times they are madly insane, and nothing is too hellish for them. " I had made a good thing of my deal and was anxiously waiting for an es- cort, for I had four thousand Mexican A CIGARETTE FROM CARC1NTO. 185 dollars, and a man of my shape takes no chances in toting money around in that country. " The day that I remember particular- ly and you will see I have reason to was the day before I was to go out from the mine with the mule train. That afternoon I went in the levels with Sefior Bustino, one of the owners, a gentleman, every inch of him and I tell you, no finer gentleman walks the earth than a high-caste Mexican of Castilian blood. " I had sold them a few dozen Amer- ican pickaxes, and one of the convict gangs was to try them that day for the first time. It was the first lot of pick- axes ever used in that mine, and, as the sequel proved, the last. The men were doing with them twice the business they had formerly done with their clumsy heavy hoes. Two soldiers with escopetas were on guard, and two overseers with pistols and heavy canes were directing the work. To get a better and nearer view, Sefior Bustino and I crowded through until we came to the rotten ledge filled with the silver, upon which they worked. The convicts stopped and gazed upon us curiously, some of them pushing back their long black hair out of their eyes and staring with undisguised wonder at me, for I was a gringo, a heretico, and a strange object to them in those early days, with my paler skin and peculiar dress. Near me was a large black fellow, bare to the waist. He was short-necked 186 OUTING LIBRARY. and broad-shouldered, and his cheeks were so high as to partly close his little fierce eyes ; his nose was low and flat, while his chin was sharp and prominent, with a deep scowl ; in fact, a bundle of animal appetites and passions done up in a hideous form. As we passed he drew from the folds of his drawers the only clothing- he wore a pinch of tobacco and a corn husk, and making a cigarette he stepped to one of the grease-wood torches and lighted it, blowing out a great cloud of pungent, aromatic smoke from his broad nostrils, that filled the space around us with the odor you noticed from my cigarette. " That was my first experience with that tobacco, and, indeed, my first smell of its peculiar odor, and I have never forgotten it. I dined that evening with the old sefior and was introduced to his family ; his wife, a Mexican lady prematurely aged as they all are, two daughters, handsome as angels, and was shown the picture of their son, a young man who was then being edu- cated in Paris. They were delightful people, especially to one who had been trucking for weeks across the dusty plains of Chihuahua, with only peons and mules for company, and we had a fiery Mexican dinner, spiced with the jokes of the village priest, who was an hon- ored guest. At ten, with the hearty wishes of the whole family, and after the elaborate Mexican custom of with- drawal, I left them. As I sauntered out in the moonlight I could not shut A CIGARETTE FROM CARC2NTO. 187 out of my mind the brutish face of the convict in the mine. Perhaps the round faces and handsome eyes of the sefior's pretty daughters may have emphasized the memory of the convict's ugly head ; otherwise I was in a happy mood. " I turned the corner of the street and entered a short dark lane that led toward the prison stockade. There was an oc- casional adobe house, but the street was mostly lined with the miserable mud jacals of the poorer Mexicans. I had hardly gotten well into it when I sniffed the same pungent odor that the convict's cigarette had given out. It startled me a trifle, conjuring up, as it did, the hide- ous mental picture of the man. I had but just realized this association when I heard the clanging of the cathedral bells in that hurried, nervous manner which has alarm in its every note for the tone of a bell always partakes of the state that its ringer is in. I heard the sound of approaching voices, loud and fierce, mixed with the alarming notes of the bells, and I stepped into the dark door- way of the nearest house. Next, there was the spatting of bare feet on the hard street, and a yelling crowd hurriedly rushed by my hiding-place, leaving a trailing smell of the same tobacco. I noticed the gleam of white handles in the moon-lighted street that I had seen in the yellow light of the mine, and then I knew that the convicts had re- volted, and that they were armed with the pick-axes I had sold the mining company. 188 OUTING LIBRARY. " The bells continued to clang out their terror, and the distant shouting became blended into the continuous murmur that you hear from a distant crowd of excited people. Once in a while the roar of an escopeta would be heard, and soon I saw a magenta glow in the sky, and I knew the town had been fired. Then followed the rapid snapping of pistols, and soon the bellow of the old brass escopetas de- noted that the guards had mustered, and that there was an organized resistance to the revolt. All this occurred quicker than I can tell it. I concluded to get back into the broad street I had just come out of, for if there is to be shoot- ing, I want a clear space and as much light as I can get. "Just as I turned the corner, on a run, witn both of my colts on a shooting level for, by the way, it is always best to come upon your enemy suddenly and surprise him before he knows you are there I saw several bodies in the street, and in the distance some dozen men retreating. I stopped near by the first body I came to ; and to my horror I saw it was the still warm corpse of Sefior Bus- tino. As I paused and stooped to more closely examine, I thought I could de- tect the lingering smell of that hellish convict's tobacco. Had the fiends at- tacked my host's home and dragged him insensate through the streets, or had he been slain whilst hurrying to the post of duty, at the sound of the alarm he knew well the meaning of ? If the former, good God ! what had been the A CIGARETTE FROM CARC1NTO. 189 fate of his wife and lovely daughters ? The very thought momentarily unnerved me ; and if the convicts had not yet wreaked their vengeance, could I reach them in time to be of effective service ? Louder and louder roared the tumult, nearer and nearer came the flashing, glinting lights of torch and pistol, and as I swept round into the street in which Sefior Bustino's house stood I could see, pouring down the hill toward it, a de- moniac gang led by the bare-breasted convict whose baleful face had haunted me. " I found the sefiora and her daughters alone and, thank God ! unharmed ; but not a moment too soon, for even as I hurried them through into the darkness of the night the convicts, with curses on their tongues, lust in their heart, and red ruin in their hands, swarmed into the house. A momentary check came as their leader and another fell in the nar- row door, beneath the fire of my two revolvers, and the flames which leaped up from that erewhile home lent their last protection in the shadow they cast, which enabled us, by availing ourselves of it, to escape. By the time we arrived at my hotel the convicts had flown to the mountains and we heard the story of the revolt. If I had not smelled that tobacco I should not have concealed my- self in the doorway, my life would not have been worth a picayune, and you may imagine what would have been the fate of my hostess and her household. Sefior Bustino, it appeared, had fallen 190 OUTING LIBRARY. a victim to the high chivalry which prompted him, hearing the bell and knowing its meaning, to hastily summon his servants, and with five or six armed peons hasten out to overtake me and bid me return to his house until all danger was over. He had met the convicts, who had attacked him and struck him down, while most of his servants fled." Dunton paused, made and lighted another cigarette, and continued : " I could not get away for a month, for it was not safe for a small party to leave the town. I brought out some of that to- bacco as a curiosity and learned to like it. I send for more every year where it is still prepared, in the prison-pens. " It is sometimes said, l Follow your nose and it will take you out of danger/ and in my case the proverb proved true. Sometimes, when I sit here alone, half sleepily watching the curling smoke wreaths, I can almost see the place again, and the rings of smoke shape themselves into a horde of convict de- mons killing the poor old noble sefior, whose elder daughter I have married. And now you know what I owe to the pungent aroma of a cigarette from Car- cinto." PART II. OUTING STORIES. ANTAEUS BY FRANK M. BICKNELL. ANTAEUS. BY FRANK M. BICKNELL. ATE one night, after having been a week out of town, I was re- turning home by a short cut across fields, when, on coming upon the street again, I found my path barred by a huge, hulking fellow, whose unexpected appearance startled me not a little. This was my introduction to Antaeus, whose better acquaintance I was to make later under rather peculiar cir- cumstances. Antaeus was not a high- way robber, but a highway roller, and when he first confronted me he was drawn up beside the road, enjoying an elephantine slumber after his hard day's labor being, despite his formidable aspect, quiescent and inoffensive. 14 OUTING LIBRARY, i am not sure that it is usual to confer upon steam-rollers the dignity of a name, but my friend had one, and I read it on the neat, black-lettered brass plate affixed to the side of his boiler, near the smoke-stack. This, I take it, was the nearest practicable approach to hanging a locket about his neck that could be managed, and I have always felt grate- ful to his unknown sponsors for their little act of consideration. I cannot think of Antaeus otherwise than as a creature not simply as a creation as a reasoning and responsible being, rather than as a docile, slavish piece of mechanism ; but to the unimag- inative he seemed to be under the domination of a tolerably clean speci- men of humanity whom I shall call the Driver. It was nearly a fortnight after our first meeting when I next saw Antaeus, for he was occupied in parts of the town remote from that in which I lived. I heard him occasionally, however, as he passed through the neighborhood after dark, en route for another field of labor, or propelling his weary weight toward the shed under which he was lodged for his Sunday's rest. On such occasions, when I heard him lumbering by, I used to fancy he was taking an after-supper promenade and puffing a meditative cigar as he went along. At length, after he had come several times for pleasure, or his own conveni- ence, he made us a professional call and buckled down to work at repairing a ANTAEUS. 15 strip of street which had long stood in need of his services. Antaeus was with us for several weeks and during his stay I became, in a measure, "chummy" with the Driver, from whom I learned various interesting facts about my mus- cular friend. Antaeus was a "fifteen-tonner," and his market price was $4,000 ; he was about sixteen feet long by seven wide at his widest part ; he consumed from three to four hundred pounds of coal per diem ; his strength was equal to that of more horses than I can recollect ; he came down upon the dust at the rate of two tons weight per foot in width ; and, when put to his best, he could settle into what was intended to be its final resting place about two thousand square yards of new road material per day of ten hours. As regarded wheels he was tricycular, that is, he rested upon one roller in front and two behind, the former being also used for steering pur- poses. He had two small coal-bunkers in the rear, a reasonably commodious space, with a spring seat, for the Driver, and a good-sized awning overhead. He worked under a low pressure of I forget just how many pounds of steam, and when traveling for pleasure could do rather more miles a day than could a crack trotter per hour when put to his best paces. These particulars I learned during the first week that Antaeus was busied in our neighborhood. It was thus that I took the preliminary steps, toward 16 OUTING LIBRARY, making his acquaintance and came to be on pleasant speaking terms with him, as it were. For the subsequent intimacy between Antaeus and myself, neither he nor I were wholly responsible. A young lady had appeared at the house across the way. vShe was pretty, but I noticed her more particularly on account of the seemingly boundless capabilities of her wardrobe. She had a fresh gown for every new day, or at least, in the course of the first fortnight she had displayed a series of fourteen charming costumes, which I could no more hope to describe than could a North Greenland Eskimo to write an intelligent treatise on the flora of the torrid zone. I sat at my window, not too near, every morning when she came out of doors, and admired her through a spy-glass. This may appear like a piece of impertinence perhaps it was but I shall urge in my defence the fact that the street between us was nearly a hundred feet wide, and our two houses were set so far back that even by using my comparatively short-sighted little telescope, I could not bring her much nearer than we might actually have been without its aid in a more crowded neighborhood. One afternoon I stood talking with the Driver, while Antaeus was awaiting the deposit of more material by two tip- carts which were attached to his service, when she passed on the sidewalk, and I imagined she glanced at me with a certain degree of interest, as if she re- * WHILE I WAS MEDITATING SHE WALKED ON. 18 OUTING LIBRARY. called having seen me before or was it Antaeus who was the more worthy object of her attention ? Had I dared I should have smiled a little merely a vague, sketchy, tentative smile but, hardly thinking it prudent, I resisted the temptation and tried, as the photog- raphers put it, to look natural, with the probable result of looking only cross. After having been her neighbor for more than two weeks it seemed as if I ought to have the right to speak, but proper consideration for Ics convenances forbade. It was vacation season, I was alone in the house, and, there being no womankind to make the necessary ad- vances, I knew not how long it might be ere I could be formally introduced. While I was meditating upon this state of affairs peculiarly unfortunate for me she walked on and disappeared around a corner. A few minutes later the fire-alarm bell sounded the number of a box near by, and presently our beautiful fire-engine, all glittering with gold and silver plate, the just pride of the town, dashed rather noisily by. At sight of this brilliant appearance Antaeus gave vent to a species of snort and started up as if to follow, but naturally his lumbering pace was no match for the swiftness of the other machine, and from the first he was left hopelessly in the rear. I went off to see where the fire was it proved to be of small account and forgot Antaeus entirely until that night, when he re- called himself to my mind by figuring in ANTAEUS 19 an odd and whimsical dream. The scene I have just described was reproduced in part, the Driver, however, being eliminated from it. I thought I was standing beside Antaeus when the young lady appeared, only to disappear. As she went I sighed regretfully, where- upon something happened which ought to have surprised me, and would have done so anywhere else than in a dream. As if in sympathy with me, Antaeus heaved a sigh also a most ponderous one and thus addressed me : " I can understand your feelings," he said, in a low, hoarse voice. " You are longing for what seems the unattain- able. Alas ! so am I. We might mingle our tears," he went on, beginning to exude moisture around the gauges ; " or better still," he added, as if struck by an idea, u perhaps we can be of assist- ance to each other." " In what way ?" I asked, dubiously. " I might help you to know her if you would help me to an acquaintance with the charming Electra." Intuitively I divined that Electra must be the steam fire-engine. Big, brawny Antaeus was in love ! The lu- dicrousness of the notion did not strike me then as it did afterward. On the contrary, it seemed to be one of the most natural things imaginable. "Yes," he said, in response to my thoughts, " I am passionately enamored of her. I desire unutterably to gain her friendship, her esteem, her love even though she may scorn me. I realize 20 OUTING LIBRARY, that her station in life is far above mine. I am only a plodder, while she is Did you see her pass me like a flash of light this afternoon ? Was she not entrancing, enthralling, irresistible ! Ah, me ! when she bestows her love it will be upon one of those fast, dashing railway fellows, I dare say. Yet I should like her to know that I am her friend, that I would risk any danger, that I would go through the torments of of the repair shop, that I would give my last puff to serve her. I may be ugly and slow-going, and awk- ward and ungainly Do you think I am so very ungainly, that is, for one in my walk of life ? " he broke off, in rather piteous query. "Not at all," I hastened to assure him ; " when we consider your great adaptability to your your vocation, I am sure your form would be considered remarkably symmetrical." " Thank you ! " he exclaimed, grate- fully, " and whether or not such be the case, at least I am honest and straight- forward and true-hearted, though I do blow my own whistle in saying it." "You certainly are." " Then I trust I am not too aspiring in wishing to be numbered among Elec- tra's friends. I hope she would not be ashamed to acknowledge me if she met me in the street." " I should hope not, indeed," I mur- mured, when he paused for an encour- aging word. " Shall we call it a bargain, then, that I aid you to an introduction to the ANTAEUS. 21 young lady, your neighbor, and in re- turn you so contrive as to bring about a meeting between Electra and me? " " A bargain it is, with all my heart," I assented, grasping and shaking the handle of his throttle-lever, "and the sooner the better for the carrying out of it." " Very good ; call on me to-morrow, and I will see what can be done for you." "Shall shall I come in business hours ? " I asked, hesitatingly, thinking he might possibly prefer to attend to the matter between twelve and one. " Of course," he answered, "in busi- ness hours, certainly. I mean business, and I hope you do." I hastened to set his mind at rest on that point, and, after promising to come on the following afternoon, I shook his handle again, which had the effect of starting him off, and so our interview ended. When I awoke in the morning, my dream seemed so vividly real that I re- solved to risk making myself ridiculous in my own eyes and to keep my appoint- ment with Antaeus. Accordingly, after lunch, I strolled out toward the section of highway where he was at work. Soon I caught sight of a light-complexioned wagon standing on the opposite side of the street. Attached to it were two plump, blonde ponies, garbed in russet harness, and, on the front seat, reins in hand, talking with an acquaintance upon the sidewalk, sat my young lady. 22 OUTING LIBRARY. The natty vehicle had one other occu- pant, a sooty-faced pug, sitting up very straight on the cushion beside his mis- tress, with quite the air of a personage of distinction. In front of the ponies' noses was a horse of another breed, a four-legged structure of wood, uphold- ing a sign-board, upon which was paint- ed in glaring letters the word, " Danger," and in smaller ones, "No Passing ; Steam Roller Running." Upon this scene presently entered an important actor I might call him the heavy villian Antaeus, grumbling, groaning, puffing and perspiring in his efforts to consolidate the various ingre- dients for a durable roadbed that had been laid down in his path. As he drew nearer he gave utterance to a significant "ahem ! " as I thought by way of calling my attention to what was about to happen. Apparently he was going to keep his part of our agree- ment. A suspicion of what might be his idea began to dawn upon me. He purposed frightening the ponies, an in- cipient runaway would ensue, and I should be enabled to play the part of heroic rescuer. There were no very original features in the scheme, but it struck me as being quite practicable nevertheless ; consequently I was some- what surprised and grieved when noth- ing of the nature of what I had antici- pated took place. But Antaeus was more subtle than I. He wished to avoid the appearance of collusion between us, which might have ANTAEUS. 23 been given by the execution of the rudimentary strategem I have outlined. (Or perhaps the real explanation of it is that he knew the fat little beasts of ponies were of too phlegmatic a tem- perament to be disturbed by a buga- boo.) At any rate they only blinked sleepily at Antaeus and then went off into a peaceful doze, entirely unmoved by his nearness. With the black-vis- aged pug, however, it was quite other- wise. He regarded the monster as an interloper, a trespasser, and he began to bark at him angrily. Perceiving that his scoldings had no effect, he lost his temper entirely, and, jumping down from the carriage seat, ran forward toward the advancing engine and con- tinued his barking with redoubled force and fury. His mistress' attention was now aroused, and, seeing how persist- ently he put himself in the track of the roller, she became uneasy. She called to him persuasively, authoritatively, be- seechingly, but he paid her no heed. Apparently he had more faith in him- self than had King Canute when he gave his memorable lesson to his cour- tiers by the seashore. From his position in the rear the Driver could not see the dog, and I doubt if he clearly understood the situ- ation, for he made no attempt to avert the threatened catastrophe. The ridic- ulous animal stood his ground and kept up his remonstrances against the in- vader ; the alarmed young lady threw an eloquently imploring look at me; 24 OUTING LIBRARY. and Antaeus came on, stolid, grim and impassive. Meanwhile, strangely enough as it seems to me now I remained inactive until my coadjutor, justly irri- tated, suddenly growled out what I took to mean : " Come ! come ; stupid, now is your time ; why don't you bestir yourself ? " Then I awakened to a full sense of my responsibilities and opportunities, and rushing to the fore, seized the rash and obstinate pug by the scruff of the neck and restored him, rescued from the Juggernaut, to the arms of his grateful mistress. Thus did Antaeus fulfill his share of our agreement. This little incident broke the ice. In less than a week the young lady and I knew each other almost intimately. It transpired that we were in fact old ac- quaintances. That is to say, she re- membered me when I was at home during one college vacation, and she hoped I had not forgotten the small miss who used to come over and play tea-party with my sister. I replied that I should hope not, indeed, and mentally took myself to task for not being surer about it. The boy of seventeen is less likely to be impressed with the girl of eight than is the young man of twenty- eight with the maiden of nineteen. I was positive that at the end of another eleven years I should have had no trouble in recalling her to mind. I am not a tennis enthusiast, but I will admit that my white flannel suit NO; I SHALL STAY ON BOARD, TOO,' SHE DECLARED HEROICALLY." 26 OUTING LIBRARY, had a chance to contrast itself with the velvety green of the lawn across the way rather frequently after that. It was a convenient and plausible excuse for being with her a good deal. The pleasure of her society was worth some physical discomfort, and I couldn't com- plain if I did feel for a week or more as if I had been given a sound drubbing. One day, after we had finished a series of games in which mine was second- best record who should appear, labori- ously rumbling by, but my well-nigh forgotten friend Antaeus. " What an uncouth piece of mechan- ism that is ! " she exclaimed, turning to look at him " a sort of caricature of a locomotive, one might say. A veritable snail for traveling, too, isn't it ? " " Yes ; his I mean it's best speed does not exceed five miles an hour, I am told. A man might walk as fast as that with a little exertion." " I wonder if it is a pleasant mode of riding in a steam-roller ? " she said, half musing, her gaze still resting on An- taeus. " At least one would have plen- ty of leisure for viewing the scenery along the way. I should rather like to try a short ride on it." " Should you, really," I asked, doubt- ing whether or not she was in earnest. " Yes, indeed, I should." If she had been half in jest before she was seri- ous now. " It would be a new experi- ence." " Hardly an agreeable one for a lady, though," I commented. ANTAEUS. 27 " Oh, that would be a secondary con- sideration," she returned with a shrug. "I should value the experience as an experience, and I should be glad to have it to put on my list." I looked inquisitive and she proceeded to explain. "I keep a diary not a regulation school girl's diary, in which one feels bound to write something every single day of the year, whether there is any- thing worth recording or not but a col- lection of memoranda in which I take a good deal of satisfaction. Mine is. a classified diary and is contained in about a dozen different books which began as mere covers with nothing between. By putting in leaves when there was oc- casion the volumes grew until now several of them have attained to a very respectable thickness." " Might I ask, without indiscretion, for a hint as to the nature of their con- tents, or would that be " " Certainly ; there is no secret about them. In fact I have been known to show their pages to certain of my friends, and, to be quite honest, I am rather proud of them. As far as I can recollect now, they are labeled with these titles : * Books I have read, Places I have visited, Notable personages I have seen, Odd or eccentric characters I have met, Strange sights I have seen, Curious dishes of which I have eaten, Rides I have taken " "Do you mean," I interposed, "that every time you take a ride you enter an 28 OUTING LIBRARY. account of it in your collection ? " " I mean that whenever I ride in or on any unusual sort of conveyance I make a note of it. That particular book dates far back into my childhood. The idea of starting it was suggested to me by a ride I took on a tame ostrich in South Africa. " My increased respect for a young lady who had ridden upon an ostrich near, if not actually in his native desert, will be understood by the untraveled. " You have seen something of the world," I remarked. "Yes," she admitted; "I have been about with my father a great deal. An uncle of mine, who abhors what he calls globe-trotting, tells people, with a look of mock commiseration on his face, that I have been everywhere except at the North Pole and in a Trappist monastery. A slight exaggeration that, and yet not so very far from the truth either. I have visited most of the inhabited countries of the globe, I think, and I have had a chance to try riding in a good many pe- culiar conveyances. I have ridden on an elephant in India, on a dromedary in Egypt, in a sort of horse-litter in Persia, in a man-carriage in Japan, in a sledge on bare ground at Funchal, on a log- raft down the Rhine, on an Indian's back in Mexico, in the cab of a locomotive on the Southern Pacific, in a fast newspaper train out of New York, on an open car moved by gravity and moved very fast, too on that wonderful railroad in Peru, on a small landslide amorg the White ANTAEUS. 29 Mountains, in a dwelling-house being moved through the streets of this town, in but I will spare you further enu- meration." " I hope, however, that you will let me read the catalogue for myself some time. I no longer wonder that so suc- cessful a collector should be eager for an additional specimen. I happen tc have some little acquaintance with the man who runs our steam-roller ; per- haps I could arrange to have your wish for a ride gratified." "Oh, if you only could!" she ex- claimed, looking so hopefully expectant that I secretly vowed the thing should come to pass or I would know the most unanswerable of reasons why. I had learned that Antaeus was neither a native nor a naturalized citi- zen of our town, but that he owed alle- giance to a firm of contractors in a dis- tant city, whose delegate and sole repre- sentative here was the Driver ; conse- quently if I could prevail upon him to lend Antaeus I need apprehend no in- terference from the town authorities. I began upon the Driver the next forenoon. My persuasiveness took a conventional form, for, not being gifted with an oily tongue, I was forced to trust for success in a great measure upon my chance of stupefying the Driver's conscience with the fumes of several superfine cigars. I spent about two hours in company with Antaeus, taking many turns up and down the street with him for the special purpose of observing 30 OUTING LIBRARY. his manners and customs. With the advice and consent of his guardian I learned to start, to stop, to reverse, and to steer to my own satisfaction. I had intended to broach the important ques- tion that day, but, fearing I might not yet have sufficiently blunted the Driver's moral sensibilities, my courage failed at the critical moment and I permitted my- self the expensive luxury of procrasti- nation. The next day I found the task no easier, and so put it off again, but on the day after I awakened to the fact that de- lays are dangerous and made the fateful plunge. I frankly told the Driver the whole story, under the belief that he would be less likely to refuse the petition of a lady than one made in my own name. If he had suspected all the while, from my persistent attentions, that I had an axe to grind he did not mortify me by showing it. He accepted my fifth cigar as he had my first, with an air of sup- posing it to be offered from motives of the most disinterested friendliness. I did not meet with success in the outset. The Driver had grave doubts as to the propriety of "loaning" a steam-roller. Had he been a French- man he might reasonably have urged that, like a tooth-brush, ca ne se prete pas. However, I overcame his scruples in the end, and, probably in the belief that " if it were done 'twere well it were done quickly," he agreed to deliver Antaeus into my charge that evening, ANTAEUS. 31 Accordingly, not long after sunset, I went across the street and called for the young lady. I realized fully that her father and mother would not have ap- proved of our escapade, but they were absent from home and I tried to believe it was not my duty to stand toward her in loco parentium. She was a bit wilful too, and I feared my remonstrances would do no good unless I carried them to the extreme of refusing my assist- ance, which, after my ready offer of it, would have been uncivil and unkind. At an unfrequented spot, on a broad highway, near the outskirts of the town, Antaeus and the Driver the former under head of steam, and both smoking were awaiting us. We met them there by appointment at nine o'clock. After many instructions and cautions touch- ing the fire, the water, the steam, the use of the levers, the necessity of keep- ing a sharp lookout ahead, etc., the Driver left me in sole command, as proud as a boy with his first bicycle. "You find you have got into rather close quarters here, don't you ?" said I, as I perched myself upon the high seat, from which the machine was most con- veniently directed. " The passenger accommodations might be more spacious, but all things considered I hardly think I shall com- plain, 5 ' laughingly returned my com- panion, who had seated herself on one of the coal-boxes behind me. "I took the precaution not to wear my best frock, so I can stow myself away in 32 OUTING LIBRARY. small compass without fear of damage." Raving in mind the trouble I had taken, her delight in the novelty of her situation was highly gratifying to me. She eagerly asked about the functions of the various levers, try- cocks, and gauges, and insisted upon being allowed to experiment with them, as well as with the steering gear, herself. The knowledge, she said, might be useful to her in the future. Antaeus proved to be entirely docile and allowed him- self to be guided as easily as a well- broken flesh and blood horse. The big fly-wheel revolved, the fussy little piston pumped up and down with an ado that seemed absurd considering the slow progress resulting, the steam fretted and hissed, the three massive rollers bore with all their might upon the hard surface of the macadam, and thus crunching, clanking, thumping and rattling, we sluggishly made our way into the obscurity of the night. By and by, in the course of our jour- ney, we came to a gentle rise, the ascent of which made Antaeus puff rather laboriously. For a moment my passen- ger looked slightly uneasy. " Why does it do that ?" she asked. " The exertion of going up hill makes him breathe a little hard, naturally," I answered, reassuring her. " He is feeling in fine condition, though," I added, inspecting the steam-gauge by the light of my lantern ; " the effect of a plentiful supply of oats, doubtless." "You speak of // as he" she 'said, questioningly. ' HE RAN WITH ALL HIS MIGHT DOWN THE TRACK 34 OUTING LIBRARY, " Certainly ; why not ? " I retorted. " He seems to me unequivocally mascu- line." "True," she assented; "still in per- sonifying inanimate objects, are they not more frequently made members of the other sex ?" " Undoubtedly they are, but it strikes me as a ridiculous custom particularly in the case of great machines. No en- gine, however big, black or ungainly, but it must be spoken of by the feminine pronoun. It is hardly a compliment to your sex, is it ? Think of the incongru- ity of putting, for instance, a huge steamboat, named for the president of the company, into the feminine gen- der !" She laughed at my fancy, but her merriment did not wound my sensibili- ties. " So it's I beg pardon, his name is Antaeus, is it ? " " Yes, in honor of that old giant do you recollect ? whom Hercules over- came." " By lifting him quite off the ground, because as often as he came in contact with Mother Earth his strength was re- newed ? Yes, I recall the story, and I can see a certain propriety in the name. I rather think this fellow, if he were to be lifted off the ground, could scarcely use his great strength to advantage. Imagine him turned upon his back like a huge beetle, kicking about frantically into the air to no purpose !" " Undoubtedly he gets his grip from his contact with the earth," said I. u As ANTAEUS. 35 a flying-machine he would hardly be a success." "Doesn't it strike you that he is almost unnecessarily deliberate?" she queried, presently, with a slight show of impatience ; evidently the novelty of the adventure was beginning to wear off. " More so than usual for the reason that we are ascending an incline ; but you must remember that Antaeus was not built for speed," returned I, de- fending my friend. " Evidently not. He belongs to the plodders the slow and sure sort. He would be entered for a race in the tortoise class probably. Fancy an ab- sconding cashier trying to escape from justice in a steam-roller ! It would be funny, wouldn't it ?" I agreed with her that it would be very funny. " Or imagine an eloping couple fleeing before an irate father on such a conveyance !" I suggested, with a consciousness of blushing in the dark for the audacity of the conceit. " Now, that is good !" she exclaimed, seizing on my idea with an eagerness that showed how far her thoughts were from taking the direction in which mine had dared to stray. "What a situation for a modern realistic, sensa- tional drama !" "It might be worked up into some- thing rather impressive, I should think. In these days of bringing steamboats, pile-drivers, fire-engines, real water, and railway trains in upon the stage I don't know why a steam-roller might not be 36 orTTNC, LIBRARY. given a chance." "Why not?" she cried, waxing en- thusiastic. " Picture the scene. Enter lovers on steam-roller, followed by incensed father in in " "In an electric-car," I supplied ex- perimentally. " Pshaw ! don't be foolish !" she ex- claimed thanklessly. "Followed by father in a light gig, drawn by a spirited horse. Overtakes lovers demands his daughter young man respectfully de- clines to give her up. Old gentleman prepares to come and take her. Is about to descend from gig when steam- roller whistles, spirited horse begins to prance, he is obliged to keep tight hold of reins " " Very good !" I put in approvingly. "Stern parent threatens direst ven- geance, horse cavorts alarmingly, par- ent rages unavailingly, resolute lover pushes throttle wide open with one hand and retains firm grip upon the helm with the other." " While the devoted loveress, with her own dainty hands, shovels in coal and encourages him to stand firm " " By the way, that reminds me of something," I interrupted and, getting off my elevated seat, I bent down and opened the furnace-door ; " I rather think I should have given Antaeus his supper before now." In truth, I had neglected the fire alto- gether too long. I hastily threw in more coal, but it was already too late to avert the consequences of my forget- ANTAEUS. B7 fulness. The pressure of steam was diminishing and continued to diminish in spite of all my efforts to prevent it. Back fell the indicator upon the dial, and more and more slowly worked the machinery as the power behind it be- came less and less. " We shall not reach the top of the hill at the present rate," remarked my companion. " The vital spark appears to be in danger of extinction, so to speak." " In very great danger," I sorrowfully assented as, with one last feeble effort, Antaeus wearily gave up the struggle. " Nor is that the worst of it," I added, filled with a sudden apprehension. "What do you mean?" she asked, disquieted by my manner, though not yet divining the inevitable outcome of the existing state of affairs. "You had better descend to terra firma unless you want to go back down hill faster than you came up," I replied significantly. "Oh!" she exclaimed, comprehend- ing the danger. " Yes ; the attraction of gravitation is going to take us back a deal faster than Antaeus ever traveled before. Shall I help you out ?" " Can't you put on the brakes ?" " There are none ; the builders of this machine did not foresee such a contingency as this. It was not to be supposed that Antaeus ever would fall into the unskillful hands of a bungling, blundering amateur," said I, calling up 3$ OUTING LIBRAItY, hard names for myself from out of the depths of my humiliation. " Don't reproach yourself," she begged ; " it is I who am to be blamed." " Shall I not help you out before it is too late ? " I interposed, as Antaeus be- gan to gather way. " What are you going to do," she de- manded. " Oh, I shall stick to the ship/' I an- swered grimly. " But you will get hurt if you do," she objected. "Antaeus will get hurt if I don't. Come ! " " No ; I shall stay on board, too," she declared heroically. " Now don't try and persuade me to desert, for I shall not do it. Can't I be of some use?" Seeing that she was firm in her re- solve to stand by me, I gratefully ac- cepted her offer of assistance, which indeed, was of considerable value. It was important that I should keep a firm hold upon the steering wheel, to pre- vent the craft from yawing, and, unless I were to be continually screwing my head about in a very painful position, I could not very well see the road over which we were traveling. From a po- sition between the coal- boxes behind me now the front of the conveyance she could keep a look-out and pass the word to me when it became necessary to correct the deviations in our course. Without her help, it is more than proba- ble that I should have run Antaeus ig- ANTAEUS. 39 nominiously, perhaps disastrously, into a ditch before reaching the foot of the in- cline. Even as it was, I had my hands full. During the ride, which certainly was one of the most disquieting, mentally aud physically, that I ever have taken, we said very little to each other. I gripped the wheel, and she grasped the iron sides of the coal-bunkers, between which she stood, opening her lips only to call, "right! left !" or "steady!" as I had hastily instructed her to do for my guidance in steering. So we rum- bled and rattled and jolted on down the hill, at continually increasing speed, un- til at length we reached the base, and I drew a deep breath of relief at knowing that the worst was over. Arrived upon a level, our momentum gradually expended itself. From an esti- mated ten-mile rate which had seemed terrific we slowed to a five, to a three, to a one, to a snail's pace, and then something occurred which, although not threatening any danger to us person- ally, filled our minds with the liveliest anxiety for the safety of others. Antaeus came to a stand-still just across the rail- way track. " Well ? " said my passenger, inquir- ingly "Well," I returned,' blankly, as I pulled my watch from my pocket, " this is interesting, to say the least." " Are there how about trains ? " she queried anxiously. During the jolting of our forced and forcible descent our lantern had gone 40 OUTING LIBRARY, out ; but there was an electric lamp near, and by its light I managed to read the hour upon my watch-dial. " There is a train leaving the city at ten, due here at ten-seventeen ; it now lacks five minutes of that. I must gp to the station and report that the way is blocked. I am sorry to leave you or would you prefer going while I wait here?" " I think it will be better for you to go." " Very well, then ; I'll not be long." This promise of mine was ill-advised. I hurried up the track to the station, only to find it locked and deserted. It was not the principal station of the town, being one of the half-dozen smaller ones strung at short intervals along the line. In all probability it would not be opened until a few minutes before train-time. As I knew the outcoming train would stop at that station, and thus give me a chance to warn the engineer of the obstruction ahead, I did not feel particularly alarmed at not finding the agent at once. Still I was conscious of some nervous uneasiness while awaiting his arrival. At last he came leisurely across the street, jingling his keys as he walked. As soon as he stepped foot upon the plat- form I went to 'him and began to tell my story. I had not proceeded far with it ere he interrupted me with a startled ejaculation. " Great Scott ! The White Mountain express ! " "What? What do you mean?" I gasped. 1 HE SEEMED TO COME ROLLING ACROSS THE BED. 42 OUTING LIBRARY. 11 New train put on yesterday passes here on the way in at ten-ten, and it's more than that now ! " he exclaimed in staccato, as he hastily unlocked the station door, and, putting in his hand, seized a red lantern that had been sit- ting ready lighted on the floor within. He did not waste any more time with me, but rushed along to the end of the platform, and then began to run with all his might down the track. I succeeded in following him at not too great a dis- tance, although I was turning sick and giddy with all sorts of horrible appre- hensions. Visions of a frightful wreck photographed themselves on my brain, the shrieks of the dying sounded pro- phetically in my ears, and in the midst of it all I was selfishly deploring the fact that I should be called on to pay the damages at least to Antaeus and won- dering if I could contrive to get a hard- ware discount off the market price of steam-rollers. The crossing was still hidden from us around a curve when a shrill whistling broke upon my startled ears. " T-o-o-t ! t-o-o-t ! Toot ! toot ! " The agent uttered an explosive invo- cation to the Deity, and added in tones of despair : " We're too late ; she's onto us ! " Still we staggered mechanically for- ward, until suddenly, with a cry of warn- ing, the agent sprang aside, and the ex- press went thundering by. " See here, young man," my compan- ion exclaimed angrily, " if this is a put- up job " ANTAEUS. 43 " But it is not ! " I interposed with in- dignant protest. " I don't understand it any better than you do. Certainly I left Ant the roller sprawled across both tracks." "Well, I guess it ain't there now," dryly remarked the agent, watching the rear lights of the fast-receding train, until they were swallowed up in the glare of the "local's" head-light. "I must run back," he added, recalled to a sense of his duties. " You take this lan- tern and go and see if the outward track is clear. Stand between the rails and swing the lantern if it ain't. I'll tell the engineer to go slow and be on the look- out." In another minute I was at the cross- ing. I looked up and down the street for Antaeus, but neither he nor the young lady were to be seen. If that Hercules of a locomotive actually had lifted him into the air and carried him off his absence could not have been more conspicuous. But naturally such a feat could not have been accomplished, nor had it been attempted. The real explanation of the mysteri- ous disappearance was this. During my absence the fire under the boiler had been getting up, until finally enough steam had made to start the machinery and so the roller had been enabled to roll itself away out of danger. I was about to start toward town, under the supposition that Antaeus had taken that direction, when I chanced to recollect that with the levers as I had 44 OUTING LIBRARY, left them he naturally must go just the opposite way that is, retrace the course over which he had lately come. Accordingly I set out on the run toward the hill. Near the foot of it I found him, diagonaled off the road-side with his nose against a tree, loudly hissing in impotent rage at the unwelcome bar to his progress. I jumped into the engineer's place, reversed the machinery, and without very much trouble succeeded in get- ting him back into the road and started on the homeward way. I was putting to myself an uneasy question as to the whereabouts of my passenger, when, to my relief, I heard her voice close at hand. " Is it all right ? " she inquired anx- iously; " I feared it was going to blow up or something, it made such a horri- bly distressing noise." " That very noise was a guarantee that he was not going to blow up," I replied, bringing Antaeus to a stop. " He was merely getting rid of super- fluous steam through the safety-.valve. I am very glad to find you again. Will you ride ? I think we shall get on smoothly this time." Rather hesitatingly she allowed me to help her in. Then, after taking the precaution to add some fuel to the fire, and to inspect the steam and water in- dicators by the light of my borrowed red lantern, I opened the throttle and started on again. " Did the train frighten you ? " I be- thought myself to ask, presently. ANTAEUS. 45 " Oh, don't speak of it," she returned with a shudder ; " I heard it coming from two or three miles away, and when it got nearer and nearer and you did not return I was almost frantic. But I couldn't do anything. I don't think it was more than a quarter of a mile distant, with the light gleaming along the rails and making it seem even nearer, when the roller began to move but, oh, how slowly ! I thought I should well, if my hair hasn't turned gray from that scare it never will do so until the natural time for it comes, I am sure." " Well, the old fellow got off in time, evidently." " Yes ; but with hardly a second to spare. He hadn't cleared the rails of the other track when the train passed. It was a frightfully narrow margin." " You were not on board all this while, I hope." " Oh, no ; that would have been too foolhardy. But when I saw it was making off I didn't want it I mean him to go careering and cavorting about the country alone, so I climbed up and tried to take command. You showed me how to use the reversing- lever, and it all seemed easy when you were here, but when I was alone I didn't dare touch it for fear something disastrous would happen. All I ven- tured to do was to take the wheel and keep him in the road or rather try to do so, for I didn't succeed very well. My strength was not equal to it. He swerved a little and then got to going 46 OUTING LIBRARY. more and more on the bias, until at last, despite all I could do to the contrary, he ran off against a tree and was obliged to stop. Soon afterward that hissing noise began, and, fearing an explosion, I ran and got behind the wall on the other side of the street, and then then you came. I don 't think I ever was more rejoiced to see anybody in all my life." I resisted a temptation to make a speech, which, however much in earnest I was, might have sounded silly, and contented myself with remarking that I was glad to have arrived in such good time, and I turned my attention to the taking of her and Antaeus safe home. I could not get to sleep after going to bed that night. The evening's experi- ence of itself was hardly a soporific, but there was yet another matter to occupy my thoughts and prevent my sleeping. Should I venture at the next favorable opportunity to put a certain question to a certain person ? If I did so what an- swer should I receive ? I hoped and I feared and I doubted concerning the sentiments of the said certain person toward my unworthy self. I revolved the thing in my mind until there seemed to be little else there but revolution. Progress in any direction, certainly there was none. My body was hardly less restless than my mind. At three o'clock it flashed across me like a revelation, that I was hungry. I had eaten a light supper hours ago, and now my stomach was eloquent with emptiness ; while the blood which ANTAEUS. 47 should be doing good service there was pulsing madly about in my brain to no purpose. I went down stairs and in- spected the contents of the ice-chest. Roast pork and brown bread make rather a hearty late supper, but break- fast time was so near I thought I would risk them and a good deal of them. Returning to my room, I set a lamp upon a stand at the head of the bed and, taking the first book that came to hand it chanced to be an Italian grammar I began to read. I had gone as far in the introduction as "CC like t-ch in hatchet, " when I grew drowsy. I laid down the book, my eyelids drooped, and there is good circumstantial evi- dence that a moment later I fell asleep, lying on my back with the upper half of my body bent into the form of a bow. My slumbers were visited by a dream a nightmare, composed, I estimate, of cold roast pork and brown bread, un- comfortable bodily position, the mem- ory of certain occurrences in my past history, and an event to be described later. In this dream Antaeus figured largely. He seemed to come rolling across the bed, and me, until he had stopped upon my chest and stomach. " What are you doing ? " I asked in alarm. " Do you know you are crush- ing me ? Get away ! " " I dare say I am. I weigh fifteen tons," Antaeus replied, heavily jocose. " I say," he continued with a burst of anger, "you are an honorable, high- minded sort of person, you are. What 48 OUTING LIBRAE Y. do you mean by treating- me so ? Have you forgotten our compact? I have given you every chance man could ask for with her ; what have you done for me in return ? Nothing. Even worse than nothing. To faithlessness you have added treachery. Not content with deceiving me, you have sought to destroy me. I suppose you hoped to see my debris strewn along the iron way." I was conscience-stricken by his ac- cusations ; but I could refute a part of them. " Oh, no ! oh, no ! " I protested, " it was an accident, I assure you. So far from desiring such a thing, I declare that I cannot even imagine your being reduced to debris. I " " Bah ! " roared Antaeus, and in his rage he began to belch forth smoke smoke so thick and black that I thought I should be stifled by it. In another moment I awoke gasping. One feature of my dream was a reality the smoke. The room was filled with it, and there were flames beside. As nearly as I can guess, the situation on which I opened my eyes had been thus brought about. While I slept the wind had risen and, pushing inward the shade at the open window, had pressed it against the small, unstable stand until the latter had been tipped over, bring- ing the lighted lamp to the floor. The muslin curtains had caught fire ; from them the straw matting, kerosene-soak- ed, had flamed up, so that now a pretty lively blaze was in progress. I sprang off the bed, made a snatch at ANTAEUS. 49 some of my clothes, and got out of the room as soon as possible. After I had helped save everything portable, that could be saved without risk to life, I went and stood before the house in the cool air of the early dawn and watched the struggle between flames and flood. In the midst of my perturbation I noticed something that struck me as being worthy of remark. I had left Antaeus at the edge of the roadway be- fore our gate ; now the fire-engine, Electra, had been drawn up beside him. He was maintaining strict silence, but I hoped he was being well entertained, for Electra kept up an incessant buzzing woman like, quite willing to do all of the talking. At any rate my share of our compact was now fulfilled ; Antaeus and I were quits. In the later morning I saw the young lady. My misfortunes called forth from her expressions of sincerest pity ; in- deed, she bitterly reproached herself for having been the direct cause of them. When I described my narrow escape from death by suffocation, she grew so pale that I thought she must feel considerable interest in me, al- though I immediately reflected that it could not be very pleasant to have one's next-door neighbor roasted alive. By-and-by I told her of my two dreams, and of the way in which I finally kept faith with Antaeus. " It is a shame that you had to burn up your house to do it," she comment- ed, "when a brush-heap might have 50 OUTING LIBRARY, answered the purpose quite as well." I thought or I hoped that the time had come for making a decisive move with some chance of its being effective. I furtively possessed myself of her hand. " I should not regret the house so much," said I, " if I might hope you would deign to extend to me the favor with which Electra has made Antaeus happy." This was bunglingly put, but she un- derstood me well enough, although she murmured in reply : "You have it already; we are ac- quainted. Surely you don't want any- thing more." But she did not withdraw her hand. I have just heard that the town fathers contemplate purchasing Antaeus and giving him a permanent residence "within our borders." If this report be true, I shall use all my influence from motives of gratitude to have him lodged beside the engine-house, so that he may be near his bewitching Electra. WHICH MISS CHARTERIS? WHICH MISS CHARTERIS? BY C. G. ROGERS. AVING completed his breakfast, Mr. Percy Darley seated himself in a n easy - chair, facing the cheer- ful grate- fire of ruddy anthra- cite, placed his toes upon the fender, and relapsed into a thoughtful contemplation of Leonard's letter. " You had best come, my dear boy," said the letter. "It is a sleepy little town one of those idyllic Acadian places of which you used to rave when you were tired of the city and fretful at her ways. We can smoke our pipes and chat over the old days, before a fire in my big, old-fashioned grate. There is a noble stretch of clear ice here now. Our little river is frozen over, solid and 54 OUTING LIB It ART. safe, and the darkest prospects do not foreshadow another fall of snow for a fortnight. The sleighing is superb ; and, as Madeline Bridges says, 'the nights are splendid.' Pack up your traps and come." The invitation was an alluring one, thought Barley. His head ached, and his heart was sick of the everlasting round of parties and calls and suppers. What a vision of beatific rest that idea of a chat over old times ! Ah, dear old times of childhood and youth, when our tears are as ephemeral as our spend- thrift dimes ! There seemed to be only one rational preclusion to wit, Miss Charteris. Not that he thought Miss Charteris would personally object to his absence, but, rather, that he had an objection to leav- ing Miss Charteris. Miss Charteris was an heiress, and a handsome woman ; to be brief, Miss Charteris being rich, and our friend Darley having the millstone of debt about his neck, he had deter- mined, if possible, to wed her. If he went away, however, at this period of his acquaintance, when the heiress and he were becoming fast friends, some one else would doubtless step into the easy shoes of attention. So Darley went down into the city and telegraphed his friend Leonard that he would be in Button on the evening train. He thought he should like to see Miss Charteris, however, before going. He walked back slowly along a particu- larly favorite drive of hers, and pres- WHICH MISS CHARTERIS. 55 ently met this young lady with her styl- ish little turn-out, looking very radiant and happy on this bright winter morn- ing. There was some one with her a fact Darley noticed with no great feeling of pleasure. It was not a strange thing ; but, following the course of things as they had been for the past few weeks, it should have been Darley himself. This morning it was a sallow, dark young man whom Darley did not remember having seen before. Darley explained that he was about to leave town for a few weeks, as soon as Miss Charteris had drawn up along- side the pavement to wish him good- morning. Then she introduced him to her companion. " A very old friend Mr. Severance just arrived from Australia." " Dear old Dutton ! " said Miss Char- teris, looking reminiscent. " You must not break any trusting hearts down there, Mr. Darley; for the Dutton maids are not only lovely, but proverbially trusting." " You know Dutton, then ? " Darley answered, surprised. " Oh, yes ! I have a very dear aunt in Dutton oh, but you will see ! I spent some of my happiest days there. So did you, I think, Lawrence." "Yes," said Mr. Severance reflect- ively, " days almost as happy as the present day. Don't you think, Mr. Dar- ley, that a man's best years cluster round the age of ten ? " 56 OUTING LIBRARY. Darley could not help agreeing to this. All men, provided their youth has been happy, think so. Darley said good-by, and walked on. Who was this fellow Severance ? She called him Lawrence Lawrence ', by Jove ! There was something in it rather \ Old schoolmates, too, they had been, and what might they not be now ? It was more pique than disappointment which caused Darley to wish momen- tarily that he was not scheduled for Dutton. However, he must stand the hazard of the die. His things were soon packed ; he also supplied himself with a box of the cigars Leonard and he used to love in " the days that are no more," and a copy of " OUTING." And ten hours later the train, with a jovial roar, ran into the little town, where the lights gleamed cozily against the snowy background, and the sleigh-bells seemed to bid him a merry, musical welcome. A short, erect, trimly built man with a finely chiseled face and a brown skin that seemed to breathe of pine woods and great wide, sunlit rivers grasped Darley's hand as he stepped to the plat- form. "Well, old man!" exclaimed the brown man, cheerily. " Awfully glad you've come ! Come this way ! Here we are, Joseph ! Step in ! " " By Jove ! it is wintry here, isn't it ? " said Darley, as he slid under the buffalo robes. " What a peerless night ! " After supper the two men made WHICH MISS CHARTERIS. 57 themselves thoroughly comfortable in great leather chairs before Leonard's promised fire, and smoked and chatted. "You look just the same, old boy," said Leonard, scanning Darley carefully. " But the hair is a little thin in front there, and I think I see the growing spot of baldness, as Ike Marvel has it. Did you ever read that great book of his,