Mountain man I
A Ha*t*tesi tyiciian Serial
...c,— By HAROLD CHANNING WIRE
CHAPTER XXll—Continued
—2l—
behind the rock, Breck lev
eled his gun on a black opening
between two giant trunks that stood
like gate posts at the opposite end
of the bridge. Sound of approach
came nearer. The riders would first
pass through a hollow where trees
grew thick.
Abruptly a horse thrust its white
face between the two trunks. It
came on. Another followed.
“Pardner!”
“I see,” Breck whispered. He
steadied his aim over the flat rock
top.
‘‘Wait till they get on the bridge,”
Sierra advised. ‘‘Call out once. If
they move to break away, let ’em
have it.”
Breck watched behind his sights.
Jud rode in the lead, straight, alert.
Hep crouched in his saddle. They
came upon the narrow bridge with
horses walking nose to tail; reached
the center. Breck rose with a com
mand that was never uttered.
All in a split second the two horses
were plunging on with saddles emp
ty. Though watching the spot,
Breck sprang up. Sparks were eating the cloth of his shirt.
Breck scarcely caught a glimpse of
two bodies hurtling downward into
the gorge. He whirled to Sierra.
Sierra faced him. Neither had shot,
yet the mountains still echoed to
the crack of guns.
“Rifles!" Sierra gasped. “Back of
us!”
Breck turned. “The nesters?”
Up the bank behind them, horses
were being hard-ridden to the crest.
They passed over and the sound
died.
Sierra leaped from the rock. “No
use following up there now! We’ve
got to get out of here. That fire's
traveling!”
"Wait,” said Breck. “I want to
be sure of this.”
“Them two didn’t live to hit bot
tom!” Sierra flung out. “Come
on!”
But Breck ran to the bridge, knelt
and peered over. Only white wa
ter, foaming through jagged rocks
of the gorge, met his eyes. He
stared at it, drawn tense by a vision
of Hep Tillson’s treacherous face.
The man who had killed Jim Cotter
was dead!
“Pardner!”
Breck sprang up. Sparks were
eating the cloth of his shirt. A red
wave curled over the opposite ridge.
“We’ve got to move,” Sierra
shouted. “Cook will be needing us
badl”
CHAPTER XXIII
Cook did need them. They
climbed a ridge east of Sulphur and
looked across to a small round
meadow halfway up Kern Peak’s
flank. Fire had already swept two
sides of Indian Rock. The blaze
coming up at their backs would soon
complete the circle. All the country
for miles both north and south lay
under smoke.
“Sierra swung from his horse.
“Ought to begin here and make our
firebreak on the way down,” he ad
vised.
It was past noon when they had
finished a break and rode into camp.
Cook was there.
“Saw you coming,” he said brief
ly, “It’s a good job you did yon
der. How about the Sulphur busi
ness?”
“Nesters saved us a couple of
shots,” was Sierra’s laconic report.
► “Where’s Louise?” Breck asked.
“Gone out. It looked like we were
going to be surrounded and some
one had to reach a telephone. She’s
trying to make it to your station."
i “Rock House?” Breck gasped.
“Good God!” He looked south into a
pall of smoke. “That whole trail’s
under fire!”
“I know it,” Cook admitted.
“Someone had to go, and she
wouldn’t let me spare a man. Be
sides that, she had to get old Tom
and the Senator out.”
He mounted, giving orders, ‘‘You
ride that north canyon. JG and
some of his boys are up there. Slim
and I will go to a bunch working
on Nine Mile. Do what you can;
God knows we’re blind without a
wire to Kern Peak.”
What they could do was little
enough. Breck realized that when
he came upon Jackson and a hand
ful of cowpunchers. The cowman
met him, grim-faced, as he said,
“We’ve done our damnedest, Rang
er."
Breck took up his tools and
plunged into the endless job of clear
ing brush. But only a giant, able to
tear trees by the roots, could have
held the blaze that swept steadily
upward. Night came; men had to
sleep. They dropped on the ground
for two-hour turns, Breck waiting
until his legs collapsed beneath him.
Dawn rose over that most desolate
of sights—a mountain range being
laid waste. Throughout the morn
ing Breck flung his wearied crew
against the line, yet they were
blocked. Even as they built back
fires in one canyon, spots flared fur
ther on.
Toward noon he rode to a bald
knob, hoping to get some idea of
their position. He was half an hour
in climbing up and found that the
point which had seemed so high was
still lower than those around it. He
sat numbed in mind and body. In
another day the whole South Sierra
would be stripped. Only a miracle
could save the forest.
He did not believe in miracles,
though as he rested on the knob
there sounded a far-off droning. It
puzzled him; recognition of its mag
ic came slowly. Then suddenly he
knew. Not the miracle of rain from
a cloudless sky, nor an unseen hand
beating back the flames, but of a
winged man.
The droning surged into a roar
as a white ship burst through rolls of
smoke. It shot close over his posi
tion and he read the letters; USFS.
From somewhere word had gone
outside!
Swept with grateful impulse he
lifted clasped hands high toward it.
The plane banked as if answering,
circled, and upon passing once more,
dropped a long white ribbon. Breck
rushed to it, found a small bag
weighted with sand, then a tube of
paper.
“Relief,” it said, "coming in from
Sequoia.”
Swinging upon Kit, he raced from
the knob and shouted the magic
word to his men below. “They’ve
got us located, boys. We’ll get re
lief now.”
The plane’s promise was not ful
filled through the afternoon nor in
the first hours of dark. But about
midnight Breck saw back fires
springing up over a ten mile front
both north and south, and by morn
ing the line was almost solid. Hun
dreds of men must have poured up
Kern River gap under the air pa
trol’s direction.
It was a little before mid-day that
a lean, brown-faced man rode in
at the head of an emergency crew.
He halted among Jackson's cow
boys and swung off. “I guess you fel
lows have had enough of it. Is
Breck here?”
Breck went to him.
"I’m Green,” the man said, “from
Sequoia. We’ll finish this. Cook
says for you to meet him at Temple
Meadow.”
“Did you get the call through
Rock House Station?” Breck asked,
his first thought for Louise.
“I don’t know,” Green answered.
Fear shot strength into Brack’s
deadened body. He threw on his
saddle and rode at once. All the
way as he climbed a summit then
dropped into Long Canyon, a dread
goaded him on. A familiar spot in
the canyon momentarily turned teis
thoughts to another day.
Here he had saved Louise from
the cattle stampede. He had car
ried her home in his arms. They
yearned for her now. That day he
had not known what it was to love.
Desperation swept upon him. He
could make life happy for her.
She could paint. They would live
below . . . winters. But summers
they must come back. Realization
of that struck him forcibly. Bound
into his love for Louise, growing out
of it, was a love for the High Si
erras.
Temple Meadow, since he last
saw it, had changed from fiesta
grounds to hospital ward. He loped
in before evening, coming among
cots beneath the pines where men
lay asleep with arms and faces in
white cloths.
Dad Cook came from a shed and
hailed him. “Dam’ me if you don’t
look like an old-timer. Mountain
man for sure! Son, you’ve earned a
rest and you’d better grab it. Slim’s
getting his.”
"Louise here?” Breck asked, even
before he reached the ground.
“In the cabin. She’s all right.
Been worried?”
Breck dropped upon a log, relaxed
tension suddenly leaving him un
steadied.
“Better turn in,” Cook advised
him, “and count this job done.
We’ve got some black forest, but
she’s otherwise cleaned up.” He
paused, drawing an envelope from
his pocket. “Here’s something for
you. The Senator’s party went out
with the first pack train. Had
enough mountains, but he knows a
sight more than when he came in.
I think we’ll name a trail for him
yet.”
Breck tore open the letter. It
was from Irene. He expected some
thing, not knowing exactly what. A
change of some sort. But here was
still the evasive writing, poured out
in unfinished thoughts—until the
end. There she wrote; “Arthur is
a dear boy, Gordon. Don’t put him
in jail. I lied to him beautifully.
We quite understand each other
now.”
Middle Ages Attempted to Guard From
Infection; ‘Cholera Man’ Wore Costume
The dangers of contagion have
been known for centuries, but the
use of sensible, efficient measures
to guard against contagion had to
wait for the discoveries of the mod
ern sciences of bacteriology and
chemistry.
An idea of how the Middle ages
attempted to guard from infection
the “cholera man” who was called
upon to care for cholera patients is
afforded in the directions prescrib
ing the costume which the “chol
era man” was to wear.
To resist the dread disease he was
to be equipped, according to the
best advice of those days, as fol
lows:
“About his body first a layer of
India rubber, thereupon a large
pitch plaster; on top of this a band
age of six yards of flannel. On the
pit of his stomach a copper plate,
on the chest a large box of warm
sand. Around the neck a double
bandage filled with juniper berries
and grains of pepper; in the ears
two pieces of cotton wool with cam
phor; hung on the nose a smelling
World May Have Been Without Bugs for
60 Million Years, Scientists Suspec\
Was this an almost bugless world
for about 60,000,000 years? One of
the enigmas of paleontology is that
so few Insect remains have been
found in rocks of the Cretaceous
geologic period which just preceded
the coming of mammals, birds and
flowering plants, says a writer in
the Chicago Daily News.
The Cretaceous was a time of
abundant life. It was the heydey
of the great dinosaurs. The Juras
sic period which preceded it was
notable for the abundance and vari
ety of its insects. Yet up to the
present practically none has been
found, except for one locality in
Germany, in Cretaceous rocks.
There is no known reason why
there shouldn’t have been insects.
Abundant before, they became
abundant again in the succeeding
Eocene and have remained one of
the dominant forms of life on earth
ever since. Cretaceous climates
were propitious for them. There
was plenty for them to eat.
It is, of course, only by a rare
accident that insect imprints ever
are preserved as fossils. But there
are such vast numbers of “bugs”
that even the rare accidents be
come rather numerous.
Smithsonian institution paleontol
ogists arc loath to believe that there
actually were few Cretaceous in
sects. The probability is that there
are plenty of fossil imprints which
haven’t been found in spite of in
tensive search.
While this condition remains,
however, there is essentially a 60,-
*OO,OOO-year gap in the life story of
■
“What about Art?" Breck asked.
“The doctor packed him down last
night. He’ll pull through,
“I mean what are we to do about
him.”
Without hesitation Cook answered,
“Give him a chance. You’re fin
ished with the Tillsons. Hep was
the one. Ask Louy.”
But when Breck found Louise, it
was not to ask her that. She came
from Temple’s shanty, softly clos
ing the door. Her eyes welcomed
him, yet were filled with trouble.
“Your father is worse?” he asked.
She nodded. “The fire was'too
much. He shouldn’t have gone.”
They moved from the cabin and
Breck led her into the pines where
the words would not carry back.
“Louise, I’m going to send your fa
ther out. I know a surgeon. He’ll
do wonders.”
She stood with eyes averted,
though one hand clasped his tightly.
“While he is there,” Breck con
tinued, “you and I will work two
jobs—the forest and the ranch.” He
hesitated. It had never occurred to
him that it would be hard to tell
this girl he loved her. Now he
seemed wordless. He wished she
would help.
She looked up. “We?”
That was enough. His arms swept
her close. “We, yes, you and I to
gether. Louise! I love you, want
you always.” All at once words
rushed too swiftly where there had
been none. “We can live the life we
have talked about. Outside, then
here. You need not answer now—
not until you know more of me.”
“Know you!” Her eyes and her
voice checked him. "Don’t I know
you? Haven’t you shown me what
you are, over and over again?”
“But nothing of who I am,” he
asserted.
“And of course that matters!”
“Doesn’t it?”
“No.” Gently she lifted her hands
to his face, drawing him down. “Not
here nor any place I know of! And
if you want my answer at all, take
it now.”
[THE END.]
bottle containing vinegar, and in
the mouth a twig of sweet calamus.
“Over the bandage a shirt, soaked
in chloride of lime, over that a cot
ton wool jacket and a hot brick and,
finally, a vest sprinkled with chlor
ide of lime. Then a mantle made ol
oilcloth and a hat of the same. In
his right pocket he carries one
pound of balm mint tea, a half
pound of carlyme thistle and a half
pound of sage. In his vest pocket
he carries a bottle containing camo
mile oil and in his trousers pocket
a bottle of camphor.
“On his hat he balances a tureen
of thick gruel, in his right hand ha
carries a shrub of juniper, and in
his left hand an acacia branch.
Strapped to his body is a small
wagon which he pulls after him and
in which there are 15 yards of flan*
nel, a boiling kettle, 10 scrubbing
brushes, 18 bricks, two hides and
a comfort stool. He must wear a
mask made of curly-mint paste and
keep a quarter of a pound of cala
mus in his mouth.”
one of the dominant forms of ani
mal life. Hence any sort of Creta
ceous insect fossil is like the rarest
sort of gem in the eyes of the pale
ontologist. Hence special signifi
cance is attributed to two wing
prints which have come into the
Smithsonian collection from a Cre
taceous sandstone in eastern Colo
rado which have been tentatively
clasifled by Paul W. Oman of the
department of agriculture.
Both are “bugs.” A bug, in the
terminology of the entomologist, has
the restricted meaning of a “heter
opterous hemipterous” insect, and
the word is correctly used in ref
erence to the bedbug, the stinkbug,
chinch bugs, and the like. Closely
related are the hoppers, mealy bugs
and the rest.
One of the creatures described by
Mr. Oman was a giant leaf hopper.
It was bigger than the average of
this family now extant and nearly
as large as the largest. The other,
described from a smaller fragment
of wing impression in the sand
stone, was probably closely related
to the present-day squashbug and
not far distant from the bedbug or
stinkbug.
It is hardly conceivable that these
two fragments and a few more like
them are all the trace left behind
them of the billions of billions of
insects which must have infested
the Cretaceous landscapes.
Twenty-nine Women Silversmiths
Twenty-nine women are listed ai
silversmiths in London between 17S
and 1800.
What to Eat and Why
C. Houston Goudiss Offers Practical Advice
Regarding First Meal of the Day; Some
Breakfast-Time Wisdom for Homemakers
By C. HOUSTON GOUDISS
JF THERE is one meal that can be regarded as more impor
tant than any other, that meal is breakfast. It comes after
the longest fast and precedes a major portion of the day’s
work. Thirteen hours elapse between a 6:30 supper and a7; 30
breakfast, and the body engine requires a new supply of fuel
before the daily activities are begun. Yet all too frequently
this first meal is inadequate in food values, and is gobbled in
-
haste . . . with
that may have a far-reaching
effect upon health.
Men who set forth after a
meager breakfast are licked be
fore the day’s work
I is started. They
never seem to get
WFWm -- B into high gear and
4 ener ’
■ *° P e H° rm their
[ jj tasks efficiently.
| IlfpL M Homemakers who
Mi themselves fa
tigued and irritable
fct before the morn-
Hk JHB ing’s work is com-
IHB IrBI pleted may be sur
prised to learn that
their lassitude is due to a skimpy
breakfast. And children who go
to school after an insufficient
morning meal cannot hope to
make good grades in their studies.
They fatigue quickly, find it dif
ficult to concentrate and easily be
come cross. Moreover they are
apt to experience hunger pangs
during the middle of the morning;
and when it is time for the noon
meal they will either eat too much
or will have lost their appetite,
thus disrupting the entire food
program.
Starting the Day Right
It is therefore essential that
every homemaker recognize the
necessity for providing a substan
tial and satisfying breakfast. This
is not difficult to do; nor is it nec
essary to spend a great deal of
time in its preparation.
When I hear such complaints as
“My family won’t eat breakfast”
or “They’re simply not interested
in food in the morning,” I suspect
that the menus are dull and
monotonous; and perhaps mem
bers of the household have the bad
habit of sleeping so late that there
is no time to eat properly.
Both situations are easily rem
edied, and they are closely linked.
For if the breakfast menus are
made sufficiently attractive, it
won’t be difficult to persuade
every member of the family to
rise a little earlier in order to
enjoy a substantial, unhurried
meal.
A Model Breakfast
A well balanced breakfast in
cludes fruit or fruit juice; cereal;
an egg or bacon; bread or toast;
and milk, cocoa or cereal bev
erage for the children, with cof
fee for the grown-ups. The egg
or bacon may be omitted occa
sionally, for an egg may be in
cluded in some other meal during
the day. But cereal in some form
is usually the mainstay of the
breakfast menu, and there are
I AROUND Mss^ 1 * 8 " 15 of ln,erest
I .he HOUSE PBw> the
Coffee Stains. Remove from
silks or woolens by soaking them
in pure glycerine. Wash off in
tepid, soapless water.
* * •
Use for Newspapers. Save
plenty of clean newspapers for the
moth season. Moths loathe print
er’s ink, so you’ll find the papers
useful when woolies and blankets
have to be stored away.
• • •
When Burning Vegetable Ref
use.—Put a handful of salt with
the rubbish. This will prevent any
unpleasant odor.
•• • /
Cane Cleaner. —Wicker or cane
garden armchairs if dusty or dirty
after being stored away during the
winter, should be scrubbed with
strong soda water and then rinsed
and left to dry in wind or sun.
This will tighten up sagging seats
as well as clean them.
• * •
For Discolored Handkerchiefs.—
Handkerchiefs that have become
a bad color should be soaked for
24 hours in a quart of cold water
to which a teaspoonful of cream of
tartar has been added. After
wards rinse and dry.
• • •
Use for Lumpy Sugar.— Lumpy
sugar will make a simple syrup
good for sweetening if put in
water and heated. A few drops
of vanilla mav be added.
ux vdiiuia may oe auueu, * xSSSmSSSSSSSSmSSSSSSSmmmB"^^^^
I™ Only —j
Good Merchandise
Cam Be CONSISTENTLY Advertised
BUY ADVERTISED **
9
many kinds from which to choose
—both hot cereals and cold
cereals.
Hot or Cold Cereal
Some people have the notion
that cereals must be hot in order
to be nourishing. This is a fallacy.
For the nutritive value of a cereal
is determined by the grain from
which it is made and by the man
ufacturing process—not by wheth
er it is hot or cold. It is desirable
to give whole grain cereals a
prominent place in the diet. This
rule can be followed even when
cold cereals are used. For there
are many nourishing ready-to-eat
cereals made from substantially
the whole grain. These appeal to
the palate because they are so
crisp and appetizing. And they
supply important minerals, a good
amount of vitamin B and some
vitamin G, in addition to energy
values.
A Cold Cereal Analyzed
It’s interesting to analyze a pop
ular ready-to-eat cereal, made
from wheat and malted barley.
We find a wide assortment of nu
trients, including protein, energy
values, phosphorus for the teeth
and bones; iron for building rich
red blood; and vitamin B which
promotes appetite and aids di
gestion. It has been estimated
that a serving of this cereal—
three-fourths of a cup—with one
fourth cup of whole milk, will pro
vide an adult with 7 per cent of
hie total daily requirement of pro*
tein; 11.5 per cent of his calcium,
11.2 per cent of his phosphorus;
9.75 per cent of his iron, and a
total of 125 calories.
Vary the Method of Serving
To help make breakfast inter
esting, vary the cereal from day
to day. Or offer a choice of sev
eral kinds of packaged ready-to
eat cereals and allow each mem
ber of the family to select the one
he prefers. Vary the fruit also.
And occasionally you may com
bine fresh, canned or stewed fruit
with cereals to make a “cereal
sundae.” Further variation may
be introduced by using brown
sugar or honey in place of white
sugar. And on occasion the cere
als may be baked into muffins,
waffles or pancakes.
It is also possible to serve the
eggs in many different forms—
poached, baked, scrambled or in
a plain or puffy omelet.
If these suggestions are fol
lowed, it should be a simple mat
ter for homemakers to servo
tempting wholesome breakfasts
that will send their families away
from the table well fitted for the
day’s activities.
®—WNU—C. Houston Goudiss—l939-OS.
Polishing Tip. —Wring out your
polishing cloth in a pint of water
in which a piece of whitening,
about the size of a walnut, has
been dissolved. Use when dry.
This gives a splendid polish to
mirrors, brass, and chromium.
• ♦ •
Chocolate Substitute. —When us
ing cocoa in place of chocolate,
use three and one-half tablespoon
fuls of cocoa for each ounce of
chocolate, and add one-half table
spoonful butter.
. juj
Noble Character
Nobleness of character is noth
ing but steady love of good, an
steady scorn of .evil. —Froude.
j^=====«^ |
