Lincoln County leader., August 30, 1907, Image 7

"3. THE RED
By GVSTAVE A IM ARD
? T R A IL -?
CHAPTEB I.
Toward the end of June, 1854, a well
icounted traveler, carefully wrapped up
in the thick folds of a sarape, raised to
bis eyes, was following one of the most
precipitous slopes of the Sierra of the
Wind river, at no great distance from, the
source of the Green river,- that great
western Colorado which pours its waters
into the Gulf of California.
It was about seven in the evening; the
traveler rode along, shivering Iroin the
effects of an icy wind which whistled
mournfully through the canyons. All
around had assumed a saddening aspect
' in the vacillating moonbeams, lie rode
on without hearing the footfall of his
horse, as it fell on the winding sheet of
now that covered the landscape ; at times
the capricious windings' of the track he
was following compelled him to - pass
through thickets, whose branches, bent
by the weight of snow, stood out before
bim like gigantic skeletons, and struck
each other after he had passed with a
ullen snap. '
The traveler continued his journey,
looking anxiously on both sides of him.
His horse, fatigued by a long ride, stum
bled at every step, and in spite of the
repeated encouragement ot iis rider seem
ed determined to stop short, when, after
turning an angle in the track, it suddVnfy
entered a large clearing, where the close
growing grass formed a circle about forty
yards in diameter and the verdure formed
cheery contrast with the whiteness that
surrounded it
"Heaven be praised !" the traveler ex
claimed in excellent French, "here is a
pot where I can camp for to-night with
out any excessive inconvenience."
While thus speaking the traveler had
topped his horse and dismounted. His
first attention was paid to his horse, from
which he removed the saddle and bridle,
and which he covered with his sarape, ap
pearing to attach no importance to the
cold, which' was, however, extremely se-.
vcre in these elevated regions. So soon
as it was free the animal; in spite of its
fatigue began browsing heartily on the
trra&s, and thus reassured about his com
panion, the traveler began thinking about
making arrangements for the night.
' It was no easy task to find dry firewood
at a spot almost denuded of trees, and
whose soil, covered with snow, except
In the clearing, allowed .nothing to be
distinguished; but the traveler was pa
tient, he would not be beaten, and within
an hour he had collected sufficient wood
to feed through the night two such fires
as he proposed kindling. '
"Ah ! ah," said the traveler, "the fire
will do, so now for supper."
Then fumbling in the double pockets,
which travelers always carry fastened to
the saddle, he took from them all the re
quisite elements of a frugal meal ; that is
to say, pemmican and tassajo, or meat
dried in the sun. At the moment when,
after shutting up his alforgas, the trav
eler raised his head to lay his meat on
the embers to broil, he stopped motion'
less, with widely opened mouth, and it
was only throaga a mighty strength of
will that he suppressed a cry of surprise
and possibly of terror. Although no sound
had revealed his presence, a man, leaning
on a long rifle, was standing motionless
before him and gazing at bim with pro
found attention.
At once mastering the emotion he felt
the traveler carefully laid the tassajo on
the embers, and then without removing his
eye from this strange visitor, he stretched
out his arm to grasp his rifle, while say
ing in a tone of the most perfect indif
ference : '
"Whether friend or foe,' you are wel
come, mate. 'Tis a bitter night, so if you
are cold, -warm yourself, and if you are
hungry, eat. When your nerves have re
gained their elasticity and your body its
usual strength we will have a frank ei
planation, such as men of honor ought to
have."
The stranger remained silent for some
seconds ; then, after shaking his head sev
eral times, said in a low and melancholy
- voice, as if speaking to himself :
"Can any human being really exist in
whose heart a feeling of pity still re
mains?"
"Make the trial, mate," the traveler an
swered, "by accepting without hesitation
my hearty offer. Two men who meet in
the desert must be friends, unless private
reasons make them implacable enemies.
Sit down and eat."
This dialogue had been held in Spanish,
a language tne jstranger spoke witn a
facility that proved his Mexican origin,
He seemed to reflect for a moment and
then instantly made up his mind.
"I accept," he said, "for your voice is
too sympathizing and your glance too
frank to deceive."
"That is the way to speak," the trav
eler said gaily. "Sit down and eat with
out further delay."
The stranger smiled sadly. : The two
men then attacked with no ordinary vigor
the provisions placed before them. The
general, appearance of the stranger was
most wretched and his ragged clothes
scarce covered his bony, fteshless body;
while his pale and , sickly features were
x rendered more sad and gloomy by a thick,
disordered beard that fell on bis chest
His eyes, inflamed by fever ' and sur
rounded by black circles, glistened with a
ombre fire. His weapons were In as bad
a condition as his clothes, yet there was
In him something grand and sympathetic
which aroused not only pity but also
peat far torturs to proudly hidden and
nobly endured. This man. In short
ere he fell so low, must have been great,
either in virtue or in vice ; but assuredly
there was nothing common about bim
and a mighty heart beat in his bosom.-
lnere was a rather long silence, during
which the two men Indulged in thnnirht.
The wind howled fiercely over their heads.
me eaaying snow was piling up around
them and the echoes of the canyons seem-
to utter notes of eomnlaint. It was a
horrible, night. Beyond the circle of
light produced by the flickering flame of
tne watch are all was buried in dense
gloom.
"Now that the lee Is broken between
s," the traveler said in a friendly voice
for we have been sitting at the mmn
fire and have eaten together the moment
has arrived, I fancy, for us to become
thoroughly acquainted.'.'
lhe stranger nodded bis head silently.
It was a gesture that ' could . ha Infer.
preted affirmatively or- nerativelv. at
pleasure. .
"For twenty vears 1 have been trnv.
ersing the prairies and great , savannahs
in every direction, and I. shall probably
continue fo do se till aq Indian, bullet
comes from some thicket to stop my wan-
iciui&a luteter. Towus are-. iiulelui to
me. And now. mate, von knoco mo
well as I do myself. I will merelv add.
in conclusion, that mv nnw inumv th
white men, my countrymen, Is Valentine
Guillois, and ajnong the .redskins, my'
adopted fathers, Koutenepi."
lhe speech, which the hunter bad com
menced in that clear voice and with that
careless accent habitual to him. terminnt-
ed involuntarily. Under the pressure of the
noou or. saaaenea memories that rose from
his heart, and (when he concluded be let
his head fall sadly on his' chest with a
sigh that resembled a sob. 1 The stranger
regarded him for a moment with an ex
pression of gentle commiseration.
"You have suffered," he said; "suf
fered in your love, suffered in your friend
ship. Your history is that of all men in
this world; who of ns but at a given
hour has felt his courage yield beneath
the weight of grief? You are alone,
friendless, abandoned by all, a voluntary
exile, far from the men who only Inspire
you with hatred and contempt you prefer
the society of wild beasts less ferocious
than they, but at any rate you live, while
I am a dead man !"
The hunter started and looked In
amnzement at the speaker.
"I suppose you think me mad?" he con
tinued with a melancholy smile; "reas
sure yourself, it is not so. . I am in full
possession of my senses, and my thoughts
are clear and lucid. For all that thn,i,h
I repeat to you, I am dead dead in the
siRm or my relations and friends, dead to
the whole world in fine. ..Mine is a
strange story, and ope that you would
recognize through one word, were you a
Mexican or hnd traveled in certain re
gions of Mexico." , - . , .
"Did I not tell you that for twenty
years I have been traveling over every
part of America?" the traveler replied.
"What is the word? "Can you tell it me?"
"Why not? I am alluding tohe name
I bore while I was still a living man."
"What is that name?"
"It had acquired a certain celebrity,
but I doubt whether It has remained in
your memory. ,
"Who knows? Perhaps you are mis
taken." f
"Well, since you. insist, learn, then,
that I was called Martial el Tigrero."
"You?" the astonished hunter exclaim
ed. "Why, that Is impossible!"
"Of course so. since I am dead," the
stranger answered, bitterly.
CHAPTER II.
The Tigrero had let his head fall on
his chest again, and seemed encaged with
gloomy thoughts. The hunter, somewhat
embarrassed by the turn the conversation
had taken, and anxious to continue it
mechanically stirred "up the fire. '
"Stay," he said, presently, as he thmat
back with his foot a few embers that had
rolled out ; "pardon me, sir, any insult
wnicn my exclamation may seem to have
contained. You have mistaken my mean
ing, although we have never met, we are
not buch strangers as you suppose. I
have known you for a long time."
The Tigrero raised his head and looked
at the hunter Incredulously.
"You?" he muttered. ' . .
"Yes, I, and it will not be difficult to
prove it to you."
"What good will it do?" he murmured;
"what interest can I have in the fact of
your knowing me?
Valentine reflected for a moment, and
then went on as follows :
"Some months ago, in consequence of
circumstances unnecessary to remind you
or, dui wnicn you doubtless bear in mind,
you met at the- colony of' Guetzalli a
Frenchman and a Canadian hunter, with
whom you eventually stood on most inti
mate terms;"
"It is true," the Tigrero replied, "the
Frenchman to whom you allude is the
Count de Prebois Crance. Oh I I shall
never be able to discharge the debt of
gratitude I have contracted with him."
A sad smile curled the hunter's Hp.
"You no longer owe him anything," he
aid. . . .
"What do you mean?" the Tigrero ex
claimed eagerly; "surely the count can
not be dead 1"
"He is dead, caballero. He was as
sassinated on the shores of Guayamas.
His murderers laid him In his tomb, and
his blood, so treacherously shed, cries for
vengeance."
The hunter hurriedly wiped away tb
tears he had been unable to repress whil
speaking of the count, and went on it
a voice choked by the internal emotioi
which he strove in vain to conquer :
"But let us, for the present, leave thl:
wid reminiscence to slumber in our heart
The count was my friend, my deares
friend, more than a brother to me; h
often spoke about you to me, and severs
times told me your gloomy history, whicl
terminated in a frightful catastrophe."
- lhe Iigrero, In a few moments, began
bis narrative as follows:
"My friends must have fancied m
dead. You are aware that I was at
tacked by Black Bear just as I believer'
I bad saved friends. We fought on thi
edge of a pit and I was just about tt
finish him when the Comanche war crj
was heard. Startled, I let the Indian go
he rushed at Dona . Anita, a member, ol
the party, who, however, repulsed him
He fell backward in the direction of th
pit, clutching me, and down we went to
gether."
"Go oni" the hunter said, "I am listen
ing to you with the greatest attention." -'
"The Indian was desperately wounded
and it was a corpse that dragged mi
down. The chief was the first to read
the bottom, and I fell upon his body
which deadened my fall. I cannot saj
how long I remained In this state, but- 1
fancy my faint must have lasted twe
hours. When I opened my eyes again, I
found myself in utter darkness. That
did not trouble me greatly, as I had abou'
me everything necessary to light a fire
Within a few moments I had a light, and
was enabled to look about me. I wa:
lying at the bottom of a species of tun
nel, for the pk grew narrower in its de
scent When. I rcatacd. the floor of th'
cavern, I lay for more than half an hou
on the sand, exhausted, panting, unabh
to make the slightest movement. Fortu
nately for me this terrible condition did
not last long, for the refreshing air frorr
without, reaching me through the passage.'
of the cavern, recovered me. The grounr'
around me was covered with dead bodies
and there had, doubtless, been a terribli
struggle. I sought in vain for the corpset
of Dona Anita and her father. I breath
ed again, and hope re-entered my heart.
Those for whom I had given my life werr
saved. This thought restored my courage
and I felt quite a different man. . I ros
without any excessive difficulty, and, sup
porting myself on my rifle, went toward
the mouth of the cavern, after removing
my stock of provision, and 'taking tw
powder horns from stores I had previous
ly cached. No words can describe thi
emotion I felt when, after a painful wall
through the grotto, I at length reached
the river bank, and saw the sun oner
more.
"An hour later, mounted on my good
horse, I bent my steps toward houses
My journey was a long one, and wher
I reached Sonora the news I heard al
most drove me mad. Don Sylva di
Torres bad been killed in the fight witl
the Apaches, as was probably his daugh
tcr. For a month I hovered between lifi
and death. When hardly convalescent, 1
dragged myself to the house of the onlj
roan competent of giving me precise iu
formation. This man refused to recog
nize me, although I had been intimat)
with him for many years.. When I told
him niy name he laughed in my face, and
when I insisted,, he bad me expelled bj
his peons, telling me that I was mad.
that Don Martial was dead, and I an im
postor. I went away .. with rage and de
spair in my heart. After this all - mj
friends to whom I. presented .myself re
fused to recognize me, so thoroughly was
the report of my death believed. .All thr
efforts I attempted to dissipate'- tbi
alarming mistake and prove the falsehood
of the rumor were in vain, for too man;
persons were Interested In 'it being true
on account of my large estates ; and also
I suppose, through a fear of injuring thr
man to whom I first applied the onlj
living 'relation of the Torres family. Wha
more need I tell you? Disgusted in eve;")
way, heartbroken with grief, and recogniz .
ing the inutility of the' efforts I had made
I left the town, and, mounting my horse
returned to the desert, seeking the mdS',
unknown spots and the most desolate re
gions in which to hide myself."
"Brother," Valentine said, gently, "yor
have forgotten to tell me the name of tha'
influential person who had you turned out
of his house, and treated you as an Irn
postor.
'That Is true," Don Martial answered
"His name Is Don Sebastian Guerrero
and he is military governor of the prov
Ince of Sonora."
, "Don Martial," cried the hunter, "yoi
may thank heaven for decreeing that w
should meet In the desert, in order tha'
the punishment of this man should bi
complete."
(To be continued.)
The New Farmer.
The President's address last month
at the Michigan State Agricultural Col
lege U so clear an expression of the
conditions of modern farm life that
a future- historian may turn to It to
read our times. All national leaden
have told us that the farmer Is the
backbone of the nation. Washington
and Jefferson were farmers, and good
ones. The Illinois that bred Lincoln
was one vaaj farm Chicago was then
only a small town. The President of
to-day, not bred In farm life, although
he hus been a practical ranchman, is
the first to express the unity between
farm labor and all other, kinds. The
farmer to him Is an expert mechanic
and business man, whose problems are
precisely those of the workman in tue
town, who depends for success on In
dustrial and social co-operation. He
must be an educated, aggressive par
ticipant In the work of life, competing
with the farmer of Europe, Inviting
to his workshop of uiuuy acres the
moBt skilful young men, learning from
technical students and the practical ex
perience of his neighbors the best that
is known about his business. City
workers, meeting In the friction of
crowded life, have always learned their
craft from one another. The farm
er has until recently been In social
and business Isolation. Now he Is a
citizen of the world, often closer In
point of time, to the nearest city than
his grandfather was to the farmers of
the adjacent town. The difference be
tween the townsman and the country
man in educational and intellectual
opportunities and In industrial respon
sibility Is rapidly diminishing. That
means the diminishing of the old real
or fancied disadvantage of farm life
which drove ambition and Initiative to
the city' for opportunity to show them
selves. The advantage remains' and
Increases, for no matter how near to
gether . modern Instruments of unity,
the trolley and telephone, bring city
and country, broad acres still remain
broad, and produce the conditions of
free and Independent life. Youth's
Companion.
Didn't Wlh to Interrupt.
A husband was being arraigned Ir
court In a suit brought by bis wlft
for cruelty.
, "I understand, sir," said the Judge
addressing the husband, "that one o
the Indignities you have showered upoi
your wife Is that you have not spokei
to her for three years. Is that so?"
"It Is, your honor," quickly answered
the husband. '
"Well, sir," thundered the., Judge
"why didn't you speak to her, may I
ask?",
. "Simply," replied the husband, "be
cause I didn't want to Interrupt her.'
Old Adaare Comes Up. 1
Creditor (angrily) Say, when aw
you going to pay the $50 you owe me'
Debtor (calmly) That query w
minds me of the old adage.
Creditor What old adage?
Debtor The one about a fool's abil
Ity to ask questions that a wIm man l
unable to answer.
' Weed Cotter and Gatherer.
Weeds are a constant source of
trouble to the gardener, cropping up
quicker than he can cut them down,
and spoiling the
appearance of the
lawn. A Massa
chusetts man has
invented an Imple
ment Intended to
help htm solve ths
problem and light
en the labor of
stopping and dig
ging up the root.
new weed cutter. It Is a combined
weed cutter and gatherer, as shown In
the accompanying Illustration. The
cutter Is adjustable, and Is operated by
a lever which-terminates close to the
handle of the Implement. The gatherer
is placed In the rear of the cutter. In
front of the cutter are a pair of small,
light wheels. It will be seen that after
bringing the Implement close to the
weed a pull on the lever Is all that Is
required to operate the cutter. As the
Implement la pushed on to the next K
spot, the weed Is gathered up by the
rake and carried on.
To Deatror Insects.
The grayish black squash bug Is
difficult to manage. Gathering the eggs
and the old bugs early In the spring
Is laborious but sure, If thoroughly
done. The bugs will crawl upon a
piece of board laid among the vines,
and may be gathered and caught. The
use of poisons will do no good In the
case of the bugs, as they do not eat
the leaves, but pass their beaks
through the outside of the leaf to
suck the juices, and will not consume
any of the poison. In a series of ex
periments In the method of prevent
ing the attacks of the squash vine bor
er the preventatives employed were
parls green at the rate ot balf a tea
spoonful to two gallons of water, corn
cobs dipped In coal tar, and the kero
sene emulsion; the application of the
pnrls green and the kerosene was re
peated after every hard rain until
September; the cobs were dipped in
coal tar again once In three weeks.
All three of the applications seemed to
be beneficial, with perhaps a little
something In favor of the corncobs
as being cheapest and most convenient
Th odor of tho tr h" nr efrVvt on,
the Insects, but sometimes repels the
moth, causing her to lay her eggs else
where. To Give Plat a Bath.
The unfortunate pig has always had
the reputation of being the most un
cleanly animal In existence. This Is
not entirely the
fault of the pig,
as his environ
ment Is generally
accountable for
b 1 cleanliness.
Pig raisers sel
dom attempt to
give the pigs a
bath, as it is al
m o s t Impossible
to catch and hold
them, even for a
minute, Nevertheless a Missouri
stockman tackled the problem and suc
ceeded In planning an apparatus by
which the pigs are given a good wash
ing before they are slaughtered. It
should also prove equally as useful at
other times. The construction and op
eration of the dipping tank, as It is
called, will be plainly evident by a
glunce at the accompanying Illustra
tion. Resting on the ground Is the wa
ter tank, which Is connected to an In
clined Inlet and outlet On the In
cline of the outlet are tiny stairs to
assist the pig In ascending. In prep
aration for his "annual" the pig Is
forced down the Incline Into the water,
and If his common sense does not di
rect bim on the Incline, he Is prodded
from behind with a bar. In fact, In
time this device may become very
fashionable with pigs, and It would
not be surprising to hear of them tak
ing their dally "dip" hereafter.
PIO BATH,
The Beat Hoa to IlnUe.
It Is not the large bog that pays, but
the one that makes the largest quan
Ity of pork In the shortest time and
on the smallest amount of food. If a
pig comes In during April he has
nearly nine months during which to
grow by the end of the year. If be
Is well bred, and from a good stock
of hogs, he should easily be made to
weigh 250 pounds during the nine
months of his life.
Buckwheat Is a profitable crop and
thrives on sandy soli. It Is what may
Se termed a summer grain crop, as the
eed may be broadcasted In June and
he crop harvested before frost It Is
frown as a green manurlal crop, or for
he grain. It provides an abundant
'orage for bees when In blossom,
bough some do not claim the honey
herefrom to be of the highest quality,
teing of rapid , growth, buckwheat
rowds the weeds and prevents them
om growing, and as it shades the soli
is regarded as one of the best crops
ist can be grown for that purpose,
Testing- Dalrr Cows,
The. Illinois station publishes a cir
cular which emphasizes the Import
ance of studying the production of In
dividual cows, and contains records for
one year of eighteen dairy herds In
Illinois, Including 221 cows.
The average year production was
0,019.09 pounds of milk and 220.03
pounds of butterfat
The best herd averaged 850.17
pounds of butterfat and the poorest,
142.05 pounds.
The best ten cows averaged 888.75
pounds of butterfat and the poorest
ten 109.42 pounds.
It Is believed that at least one-third
of the cows In the ordinary herds are
practically unprofitable.
A marked Improvement was ob
served In herds where grading had
been practiced.
It was found possible to remove five
cows from a herd of ten and thereby
Increase the profit $7.02 per head.
Care of the Hedgt,
When the hedge plants begin to die
out the cause may sometimes be traced
to lack of plant food. There Is con
siderable wood removed from hedge
plants every year when the hedges are
trimmed, and this annual loss cannot
be sustained by the plants unless they
are assisted. Apply wood ashes freely
every falL
"Wild Silk."
Among the peculiar products of Man
churia, which are becoming better
known' to the outside world since the
opening of that country, Is "wild silk,"
produced by an Insect named Antheroea
pernyl, which lives upon the Mongoli
an oak leaves In southeastern (Manchu
ria.. Theannual production for a few
years past is estimated at 15,000,000 co
coons. In Shantung this silk Is manu
factured Into pongee.
The Belgians as potato eaters
outstrip the Irish.
far