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March" 23, 1910. THE
ed up a long distance to our left, we
had good hope of making the ranch by
starlight. The day was bracing, and we
soon began to feel that we had been
born for a life in the desert We drank
our native air from those wide-open
plains before us.
"This is what I have dreamed of a
thousand times, Mayfleld," I said, sweeping
my arm out in a flowing gesture.
"Just what I wanted to say myself,"
returned Mayfleld enthusiastically; and
with that wo annrroH ami? **
'? v? VUV.V ? V U|/UliVU V/Ut J/UUI^O I1ILW a
gallop, and shouted aloud, swinging our
hats about our heads in what we fancied
was true cowboy fashion. In that moment
came to us the awakening of the
nomad spirit, which I suppose is latent
in us all by reason of our descent from
a primitive shepherd ancestry.
All day we followed the tortuous windings
of the trail. Sometimes the Sapio
was at our backs, sometimes on our
front; but what puzzled us was that the
mountain seemed to recede from us each
hour. We constantly strained our eyes
to get a sign or token of our destination.
None was visible, and again the
sun was going down! Now it was gone,
and, like the dropping of a curtain, the
night, black and blank, fell over the
plains. Again we were lost!
"It's the old story, Mayfleld,"I said,
after I had reluctantly admitted .to myself
that there was no hope of reaching
the ranch that night.
"Continued," observed Mayfleld, trying
to be Jocular, and remembering, no doubt,
some frontier serial we had read together
in the old White's Creek farmhouse.
For an hour or more we beat about,
forcing our ponies into this or that semblance
of a trail, but never bringing up
anywhere except against nothingness,
which stretched in one huge Inky block
from the sandy floor of the plain to the
stars which now began to crowd one
another in the vault above. At length,
however, my ears caught the welcome
sound of gurgling waters, and then I
knew we had come again upon the winding
course of the Hondo. I was about
to suggest camping for the night, when
a fralnt light broke out of the gloom. A
shaggy silhouette rose dimly against the
horizon. I recognized it as a jacal; and
riding quickly toward it, I "hailed" after
the manner of the Tennessee mountainroonnnoo
thorp pnmp the familiar
challenge: "What Is It yez'd be havln'?"
The voice was Benito's, and the light
came from his hermit chamber! We
had ridden the whole day In a circle.
CHAPTER II.
UNDER THE SHADOW OF SAPIO.
The old trapper received us under his
wing with an increased show of interest,
and a deepening, if possible, of his tones
of solicitude.
"Coom in wid yez," he said, as he
drew us a second time into his jacal.
"Coom in an' sthay by oontil mornin',
an' Oi'U be ridin* wid yez meselfto the
crist av the ridge. 'Tis a pity! An* two
as foine young gintlemen as iver Oi
see!"
/
PRESBYTERIAN OF THE SOU!
We entered the jacal feeling even
meeker than on the night before, and
went through much the same program.
The menu was identical, and Benito's
pipe followed in the same order. But tonight
we discovered what on the previous
night we had not noticed, or what
Benito had succeeded Ln repressing?
namely, that our host was a voluble
swearer. Once loosed from his restraint,
ue went some stages beyond anything
we had ever before heard in that line.
But from these sulphurous and stormy
locutions his speech, like the elemental
convections, fell off into gentle utterances
which restored him to the picture
of himself which we first carried away.
Nor was this our only discovery. Before
Benito again spread for us our welcome
otter hide couches we had learned
that he was a judge of Irish and all
other brands of whiskey. His solicitude
for the morals of his youthful guests
seemed at first to embarrass him somewhat;
but when he learned that we could
not at all be induced to imbibe, he
brought his flask into reach, and naid
it marked attention during the entire
evening.
A reminiscence of the "Old Country"
fell upon him like a dew, as his libations
increased. Suddenly, as though he saw
the ghost of a long-departed familiar, he
said: "Sure, lads, yez should 'ave seen
Dinnis O'Shane av the parish av Lurgan.
Dinnis was a man the loikes av which
yez are not often seein' ayxcipt in the
Ould Isle. Dinnis was, tek 'im all round,
wan av the foinest min Ol iver see. Sure,
he was a foine man, was Dinnis. Din
nis could take more av the good ould
Oiiish stuff nur any two or'nary men,
and sthand flat on his fate. Sure, an'
Ol never wanse see Dinnls down. He
was a fofne man, was Dinnis. But he
dold on a Froiday, poor Dinnis!"
I was not quite able to make out the
motive of this recital. Probably it was
meant to be a veiled warning against
the pot. If so, it had its effect; for I
was feeling sober enough as the result
of it, when the flickering taper admonished
us that it was time to seek the
otter pelts, which we did, and dreamed
" Hnr
Sarsa
Foi
All Spring B
and Ai
Possesses medicinal merii
an unequaled record of ci
in usual liquid form or tabl
?H. 371
the night out not less peacefully than
before.
With the light of day we were up, had
breakfasted, and were again away on
the trail, accompanied this time by our
accommodating host. Benito was loaded
in a double sense. He was not only
heeled with a big horse pistol at his
saddlebow and a Colt's revolver in his
belt, but he was a veritable blind tiger
on horseback. From his boot legs, from
fore and aft of his high-horned saddle,
he drew a flask, as convenience of hand
suggested, rfe was keeping up the traditions
of Dennis O'Shane.
The old trapper's spirits rose with the
going down of his potations. It was
plain that he felt obliged to entertain
and instruct us by the way.. Realizing
that he had for audience a pair of gaping,
credulous tenderfeet, he pursued his
advantage. Sindbad and Munchausen
might have learned somewhat sitting at
his feet. He towered with mendacity.
"Why, sure, lads, it's meself, Binjamin
Kirk, that knows the howl Sapio country
from stem to stern. An' why
shouldn't Oi? Sure an' Oi've bin here ,
since the year wan. Oi've seen a few
things happin in that toime, too, Oi'll
be sthandin' yez; Oi've seen the Sapio
mountain grow frum the soize of av
a pertaty hill to be what yez see It now;
and the Hondo whin Oi foorst see it
wasn't bigger nur a tarn in the ould
country. But it got on a tare wan9t
whin Oi was trappin' in the big Cainyon.
That was the flood, lads, by St. Patrick
it was! It clum the Sapio, inch by
Inch, but Oi wint ahid of it, Oi did. Yez
may see the big bowlder on the top
where Ois stood three days with the
wather oop to me chin. But it was only
a bit of a soomer shower at last."
(To be continued.)
The sore and aching heart of humanity
is drawn to the bruised and broken heart
of Jesus. Of all the beings whom men
have worshiped, Jesus alone satisfied the
craving for the sympathetic comprehension.
"In that He Himself hath suffered,
being tempted, He is able to succor
them that are tempted."
>d's
purine*
r
lood Diseases
Iments
t Peculiar to Itself and has
ires. Take it this spring,
ets known as Sarsatabs.