Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 22 — page 23: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

~ - — ney “oe i ee ne = = i | | 4 3 d | | : ' have [ _“ You seem to be tolerably reconciled to your loss,” added Neil. “If you could see the in’ard natur’ of this hoss, you'd find anything but reconcil’ation. No, no! there’s some'at that disturbs me yet. I’ve vowed to tind Milly and her child afore I go under. If I don't, some ha’r’ll be lifted, that’s clear! I shoot plum’ centre. Wah!’’ “ Let’s be movin’, comrade. I suffer more from inaction than I should from the severest exercise.” The mountaineer willingly assented to this proposition, and they proceeded toward the mines. When they were near them, they were surprised to hear the sound of a lhuman voice. * Sorra a bit o’ comfort, your riverence, shall we get in this howlin’ wilderness! As for the goold, or the silver, or the copper, or the iron, lead, or other precious mitals that they make sich a might peste about, it isn't one word in tin that I ves in the whole of it!” To this complaint the following answer was made : ‘‘ Hold up there, Barney, and don’t be talking of your troubles. Cut some fresh fuel, ani rouse up the fire, man. Our situation isn’t halt so bad as you make it. I’ve slept many times in the woods, alone, with nothing but a blanket to cover me ; that often happened when I was missionary among the Indians. Ah, Barney! this bit of a tramp is just sport compared with my adventures among the savages. I’ve been, too, on the Mexican border, aud pursued my solitary way from mission to mission, when my scalp wasn't safe on my head.,”’ “It was a nadeless timptin’ 0’ providence, your riverence! In my humble opinion, Fath- er Brady, the safest place is iver the best. Sez [ to myself, allys, Barney Powers, kape yourself dut o’ danger. Don't go for to git yourself into throuble by runnin’ afther this notion, and run- nin’ afther that. You'd betther give me absolu- tion jist here; for shure I'll be devoured by the bastes o’ the field, or murthered by the howlin’ st o’ the woods. Och hone! och hone!’ “If some evil should happen to ye, Barney, it wouldn't be no great naadan. you're such an ungrateful, murmuring, cowardly lad. Cut your “Jt’s evil that you wouldn't wonder would come upon me! Eroo! eroo! Is it to me you're sp’akin’? What could happen to me worse nor this ?”" Barney's voice was now partially drowned by the strokes of his axe ; for it was evident to the listeners that he was in quest of wood to re- plenish their fire. A great ery from Barney presently followed. ‘“ Murther ! murther! Come here, your riv- erence! See what kind of a counthry is this, where the mud-holes are deeper nor a well.” “ What now, Barney ?"’ «“ What now, bedad! Isn’t it a how! that you iv ticks, and think less of your mortal body.” : could put a church intil it, that 1 have diski ered? The howly virgin herself must have houlded me back, or I should have tumbled into the muchness of it, and you'd never seen Barney Bowers no more OQ wisha, wisha!”’ They he the person addressed as Father Brady arise and Hs § rime Barney. “ You're @ great blockhead, Barney Powers !” he said. ‘ This is a mine, and not a mud-hole!” « Yours, is it? Faix and I'm glad it isn’t mine ; for I should be in dread of me life to be the owner of such a decateful bit o’ property !” replied Barney, emphatically. +] didu’t say it was mine, you bogtrotter! ‘I meant that it was a copper-mine,” laughed Father Brady. Ske ‘« Wisha, it’s @ copper-mine. is it? Faix, I’m lad it’s no worse! for I should look upon your riverence as little betther nor a fool, had ye in- visted your money in @ howl like that, which e couldn’t use nor take away wid ye, which is nayther fit for a cellar, nor a hog-pin, nor an under-pinnin’ to a church! A eopper-mine, ye say? Now, I can jist see as fur intil it as your riverince, but niver a bit o’ copper can I set my two eyes on.” Father Brady broke into @ merry laugh; ‘laugh round, clear, and jolly. “Come away, you North-of-Ireland black- guard! It’s little that you know copper- mines, or anything else, for that matter,’ he said, in a voice as good-humored as his laughter. | “] wonder, Barney Bogtrotter, that yeu know enough to peel a potatoe before swallowing it.” “Arrah, your riverince! It’s in a tinder spot ye’re touchin’ me now. Sorra a peratie peeled these two weeks, for the raison that I couldn't git em ; and it al! comes of wan- SO ee ee Whitelaw. 23 —_— — ee eee derin’ about with your riverince jist with no | There isn’t a dhrop of Trish blood in me veins ; ebjeck at all, at all, in view.” At that moment Kid Kerly and Neil Travis came forward and showed themselves. “Howly mother of God !” exclaimed Barney. ‘‘Here’s the red nagurs themselves! Take to your hales, Father Brady, if ye cares a ha’penny worth for your scalp; for, bedad, they'll skin your head afore ye can say as much as the divil take ye!” Barney dropped his axe, and started off upon animble run. He floundered through the bush- es like a buffalo “ Come back here, you wild Irishman!” shout- ed Kerly. ‘ Don’t you know an Injun from a white Christian ?” It was not without amery that the headlong career of Barney was stopped. He finally trust- ed himself within parleying distance. ‘“‘Jist spake a blissid word, your riverince, if you're dead intirely ; but if you're alive, I won't ut your riverinee to the trouble, for that’s all ’m afther wantin’ to find out, which ’ll set my heart at aise.” “'There’s nothin’ to fear,’’ answered Father Brady. ‘These are not savages, but white men.”’ ‘* It’s little, mayhap, that your riverince Has to fear,” added Barney, returning slowly ;’’ for, eome to think iv it, sorra a scalp has ye to lose, your head bein’ smooth as the back o me wand.” “How d’ye do, hoss ?” said Kerly, amicably. , re !”” replied Father Brady, extending his and. “Traps and trapsacks!” cried the mountain- eer, In a tone of surprise. “If ’tisn’t Father Brady, I don't know hind-sights from fore-sights ! I'm glad to see ye What in the world are you so near the clearin’s for? Ha’n’t fell from grace, have ye? Don’t mean to cheat the poor heathen out o’ the skin o’ your head, do ye? Haven't desarte! the mountains, I hope ?” “No; I’ve only been down to Mackinaw to take an airing. I just wanted to see civiliza- tion again, and then go back contented to m labors. Hearing strange stories about gold leing found on this side of the lake, and wea of a month's residence in the clearings, I took a stroll up this way, tor recreation, as well as to satisfy my curiosity. I have with me my new servant, Barney Powers, who don’t know a cop- per-mine from a mud-hole. Now you've heard my simple story, tell me what brings you here ?” ‘*T confess to much the same feelin’ that made you take this long jaunt. I wanted to see, too, the improvements in rifles, pistols, and other weepons, and try some expeeriments with the powder they’re makin’ nowadays. I shall be ready to go back, soon. Neil Travis, this: is Father Brady—as good a Catholic as every trod shoe-leather. Father Bredy spliced Milly aud I; and he did it right solemn and beautiful. I felt as if a stream o’ cold water was runnin’ down my back durin’ the whole ceremony! If you find Mary Danton, I allow he’ll do the job or you better nor any critter in the clearin’s. He can shvot almost plum’ centre, too; which ualifies him, in my ‘pinion, more’n anything else for j’inin’ fdélks together. Qualifications is everything. I’ve had trouble, Father Brady, since I see ye afore. My red sweetness has heen tooken away from me. May I never shoot plum’ centre if she hasn’t!- It’s now goin’ on two year since she was swooped away by a rummaygin’, vagabond band of Injuns. And the little gal, too! Remember her, don’t ye? Used to set on your knee, you know, and had a solemn little face, and eyes like black glass beads. I got mightily ’tatched to her ; I’s fond of her a heap. Didn't er mother have a form, though? Did ou ever see sich a face on a Nez Perce gal? hey shot me, them optics did, plum’ centre ! Well, well, we're all human! It's no use to grieve, I s’pose, about bygones, but nat’rall they come up. This lad, here, hasn't lost his wife, but he’s lost his sweetheart ; which ‘mounts to the same thing. We’re lookin’ for her. You'd better jine us; and when everything is straightened out, we'll tramp to the mountains together. Wah!” “ There'll be time enough to think of that. my son. I own that it strikes me favorably. There isn't a man I’d rather have for a companion on such a long and perilous journey.” “Your riverince and I don’t agree on that p’int. Sure and doesn't he wear moccasons and look like a haythen intirely. Faix, I’d rayther walk the woods with old Nick hisself!” “Go ’long, you Connaught man!” said Kerly. “No more a Connaught mag than yvurself! <8 Cee eer ere t- . —— ' ' I’m Frinch, intirely. Don’t ye obsarve that I haven’t a bit iv the brogue?” retorted Barney. The mountaineer and Father Brady sat down by the fire and talked over oll times, while Neil Travis wanlered about restlessly. Just as the sun was rising, ania? Powers, who had busied himself in gathering fuel, made a fresh outery. “ Arrah musha! what kind of a conthrivance have we got here.I wonder. It looks, for all the worrold, like a long ladder sich as they use in earryin’ bricks till the top o’ buildin’s, bedad! Bad ‘cess to the man that made it, for Barney Powers ‘ll git his legs tangled in.” ‘‘Tt’s a miner's ladder,” said Travis, who Pepeene to be near him. “Is it the ladder iv one under age that ye mane? I can wel belave it, upon me sowl; for no lad that’s twinty-one would make sich a murtherin’.murchine jist for the sake o’ hidin’ it in the bushes.” The circumstance of finding the ladder was quite suggestive to Kerly, and he and Travis began to examine the nearest mine; the same which had excited so much surprise in the mind of Barney. The mountaineer was not long in assuring himself that the shaft had been recently visited. There were marks at the edge of the pit where the ladder had been pushed down and rawnup. Beside these signs, footprints could be distinguished and a small path had been worn in that place by frequent travel. Travis be- cane excited at these discoveries. It seemed to him that they were about to solve the question concerning Mary Danton. What more natural thao that her abductors should use the mine for present concealment ? He assisted to drag out the ladder and place it in the shaft, and was about to descend, when the mountaineer stopped him. “* Mayhap you'll find it dark down there,” he said, “ and pokin’ round among pitfalls, when you can’t tell the hind-sights from the fore- sights, wouldn't be by no means pleasant ; vou don’t only run the risk of a tumble, but of havin’ somebody pounce on ye onawares. Let's cut some pine torches, and do this job like reasonin’ critters. Don't be narvous, Neil; nothin’ may ve 0’ bree all.” _ Some sticks of pitch pine were procured and lighted, and all but Warnes went pit Travis oobeeng in going first. They all reached the ottom in safety, although the ladder trembled dangerously beneath the heavy weight of Father Brady. They stood still a moment, with their torches elevate:!, then cautiously proceeded to their explorations. They soon found the spot where the fire had been ‘built. The evidences of recent human presence were indubitable. “This mine,” observed Father Brady, ‘ was opened long ago. The walls and the arched roof bear the impress of age. It can only have been used for a fiahap-pines, it seems to me.” “No,” replied Neil,” not for that purpose, only, for here are mining tools. Let us go farther into this passage. Look! here are fresh diggings!” “What on airth could they be diggin’ here for?” queried the muuntaineer, Father Brady took up a handful of earth. “Copper, I dare say,” he replied, carelessly. “They would look for neither gold nor dia- monds here.” He threw down the earth with- out discovering the glittering particles that it contained. ‘“T eare not what they songht!” eried Travis, impatienly. “J seek a treasure more precious than silver, or gold, or diamonds.” “And a right small chance there seems of findin’ it. Howsomever, arter you've got doue runnin’ this way and that, this old boss will’ read signs a bit for ye.” “Signs!” echoed Travis. “This floor is as hard as a stone!” The young man hurried from passage to pas- sage; he made the entire circumference of the mine, and reached again the poiut from which they started. They had seen every visible space, but signally failed in their object. Neither the miners nor Mary Danton were found. Travis looked moody and despairing. His expecta- tions had received a shock. He had hoped, cherished a seeret conviction that this subter- ranean investigation would give him a clue to the fair subject of his anxiety, “I'm ready to go,” he said, despondingly. “Not quite yet,” replied the mountaineer. “While you's lookin’ up, I looked down, and I see the print of a little foot in the ashes. close to where you see the brands. "Twas @ Woman's foot; aud what's mare, ‘twas hera!” JOO S EGoOmic - — _—— i ae a ee ee ae 2s 2 oe