BY MAC A'RONY.
I will feed you to bursting.--_The Fair God._
Eureka is a good old mining town that saw its finish when Congress
demonetized silver. As have some clouds, it has a silver lining;
the earth beneath and the surrounding hills are rich, or rather
poor, in the white metal. A few of the mines were still operating,
and any one could see ten-horse teams drawing ore done up in bags,
like grain, to fool any mule or donk. The night we hungry donkeys
arrived in town we followed a wagon filled with bags of ore a
quarter of a mile out of our course before Prof. discovered the
mistake.
I observed that the populace didn't take much interest in what I
had to say, so I didn't say much, but I thought lots, and stored
away plenty of grain and hay, to say nothing of water. The amount
I drank would make a camel envious. But I wasn't satisfied. I
hadn't tasted fruit for a long time. So I got out of the corral,
strolled to a grocery store, and helped myself to dried apples; I
was about to nab a bacon when I was driven away to a watering-trough
by a kind boy who knew a thing or two, and then led to the
corral.
I remembered having eaten less than two quarts of apples, but
before ten minutes were gone I easily believed I had eaten ten
bushel. To look at me you would have sworn I had swallowed a
barrelful, barrel and all. Most of the day, I spent rolling round
the corral in pain. For the first time in my life I knew what it
was to be really tight.
The kind boy stood innocently by, and a companion of his dared him
to go up first. "Up where?" asked the kind boy.
"Up in the balloon, yo' big idiot!" said the other. "Jest got ter
tie a basket to his tail, and git in, and hang on. Fillin' fast,
he'll rise purty soon."
That mockery was more than I could stand while lying down, so I
rolled on to my feet and made both boys scarce. And if a
horse-doctor hadn't stabbed me, the kind boy would have needed a
balloon to save himself.
That evening saw me well again, but my cravings took a different
turn. I had a taste for a newspaper. Finally a man threw one to
me. Among its contents, I ran across the following squib, and
smiled:
"MAC TEMPTED AND DRIVEN OUT.
Some vixen let out one of Pye Pod's burros--it happened to be
his pet jack--then drove him to Pete Dago's open-air lunch
counter, where the ass helped himself to that diet which would
go farthest, yet take up the least room--dried apples. It's a
sad story, but the worst is over, and save a small doctor's
bill, and a grocer's bill, and a five dollar bill, and the small
boy, Bill, who has been placed in the coop for the night, no
other bill figures in the case. The distinguished party leave in
the morning, also the nigh extinguished party (meaning me). Adam
was the first ass to be tempted to eat of forbidden fruit, but
not the last. Adam blamed Eve. Mac blames a kind boy. Adam
deserved some commiseration for having perhaps sampled apples
too green, for we know what it is to be a boy, but no compassion
can be tendered the 'narrow-gage mule' that is such an ass as
to pack away a hundred pounds of evaporated apples, gulp down a
cistern, and expect to fly."
During his sojourn Pod wrote his weekly letter, discussed the
desperadoes with the sheriff, photographed some crippled, dried-up
Piute Indians, and doctored the sick dog, for Don had on the trail
imbibed too freely of alkali water.
We left town the morning of October 11th, and arrived at the
Willows about midnight, after a long forced march through a
wilderness. There Pod pitched camp. Neighing broncos disturbed my
dreams, and daylight revealed a bunch of cowboys on a round-up,
also a bale of hay, which set us all braying so loudly that we
awoke the men in time to start for Austin before the sun got
scorching hot.
The cowboys were a jolly lot. They gave an exhibition of rough
riding which nearly frightened Damfino into epileptics and Don
into hydrophobia. Then the whole lot of 'em fired their revolvers
in the air and skooted through the sage, yelling like mad.
Our next stop was the Blackbird ranch, twenty-five miles further
on, whose hospitable proprietor showed greater interest in the
novel tent than in anything else. Coonskin took it down with one
hand, pitched it with two feet, and while the wondering spectators
pulled their whiskers, bound up the canvas and tied the rope with
his teeth.
The seventy-five mile journey from Eureka to Austin was
accomplished in three days. There, the Professor lectured to an
immense audience.
Austin is another mining town that had seen more prosperous times;
its people, like those of Eureka, were cordial and generous. When
Pod and I led the troop out of town, he was considerably enriched
in pocket and mind.
Twelve mile ranch is twelve miles from the town. Same, I suppose,
as October thirteenth is the 13th of the month. Here was a large
stock ranch, and the thrifty proprietor did his best to persuade
my stubborn master to remain over night, at least until the
threatening storm had passed. He would not tarry, but hustled us
on in a drizzling rain.
By nightfall we began to climb a canyon winding over the Shoshone
Mountains, I think, and about midnight reached the summit in a
blinding snow squall. The wind blew at half a hurricane gait, and
the men were mad because they couldn't light a match to look at
the compass and get their bearings, and Damfino laid down on the
dog that had lain under the donkey to get out of the ice-shod
wind, and the men wasted twenty minutes searching for the right
trail.
You see, my biped friends, that another range of mountains met the
Shoshones at right angles at this point, and it was dollars to
nutmegs that the men would miss the trail in the dark, which
happened; as the result, two hours later, our outfit slid into
camp for the rest of the night some two half miles from the plain.
Breakfast was served at ten. Menu: sage brush for five.
We were on the north side, and the wrong side, of the range, plain
enough. Pod said it was Coonskin's fault, Coonskin claimed the
Prof. was to blame, and the dispute would have ended in the
blessings of the pipe of peace if Coxey and Cheese had not chewed
up the only bag of tobacco while the men were feeding.
We were now in what was, I believe, the Sinkarata Valley. It
stretched many miles to the north, and appeared to be twenty miles
wide at the narrowest point. No sign of habitation could we see.
All day long we trailed through that desolation parallel with the
range until we came to a cross-trail leading to the mountains.
Here the men examined the compass, and headed for the hills.
It was sundown ere we began the ascent, and ten o'clock when we
went into camp half-way to the summit. The air was chill, and we
thirsty animals were left unguarded while the men built a fire. I
smelt snow on the mountain peak, so did my comrades. My instinct
told me that in a moment more we all would be picketed for the
night. Our mouths were parched; but the men had only enough water
in their canteens for themselves.
Self preservation is the first law of nature, I reflected, and to
think was to act. I whispered to Damfino, she passed the word to
Coxey, and all five of us desperate donks stole away unnoticed in
the darkness and followed our noses as fast as our weary legs
could take us in the direction of the peak. The air was so
rarified I could hear the least sound, and the slow-kindling fire
flamed more plainly instead of more dimly as we widened the breach
of confidence between us and our masters.
"Rather hard on the fellows for us to run off with their water,"
observed Cheese, stopping for breath.
Sure enough, the men were left without supplies, water or food.
Not a thing had been unpacked. I loved the Professor, for he had
many times made sacrifices for me, and the thought made me stop
and look back. The men were talking and gesticulating excitedly.
Presently one started up the trail, and the other down, and were
soon lost to view. They had set out on the wrong scent. With some
misgivings I hastened to catch up with my comrades.