GHOSTED.

Auckland Star, Volume XVII, Issue 247, 20 October 1886, Page 4

GHOSTED.

When I fit si looked upon the scenery of Novndn, after living half a lilo-timo among tho broad leave.-, gruut trees, wide waters, and grand prairies of tLo Mississippi Valley, I seemed to bo for a long timo in a ghostly country. In niy former homo, vegetable life was sappy, full, and varied in its green ami lloworing stages : while in tho autumn, th 3 whirl of the yellow, brown, and red dry le.tv.» dancing in tho wind, gave lifo, and c- iT^atoallthoyearroand. But in Nevada, the oh wi»e in tho vegetation, if it changes a any time, is not poroop-.ibia to a stranger's evj: everything betokens silence, lack ot lr.x' -n. and pcrpatual hush. In the MiasiMifipl VaUoy, animal lifo is full, robust, nn<l noisy in all its depart-

nifiitts, accustoming the eyo and ear to it:? universal pve.-oneo.' Kut in Nevada, among tha rucked i-ilonco of tho sage-brush and tho scraggy trees, tho animal lifo is so light thiic tha .-tuning of a hnre, tho "'"awith-swith " of a raven's wing, or tho

"caw-caw" of a blue j>iy is tho event of thfl sunlight hours; while tho shivering howl of a c-.oyntß after suudowu makes the ileul s-iloncj of tha night hours deader Kick homo (as wo fondly cill tho old SUte.-), there is snow or thero is not snow ; but hero, in) stands at right on tho dry sand i:i tlio valley, or lies on his blankets among tho dusky grey of the bu.-h'.i-, while a litLle way fiom him, on either uaud, the snowy peaks, whito a* tho ghostly warders in v fairy Ui\v, keep ?torn *in:3 »-hrouiiacl gu:ircl upm tlia tootio. T'.ks : characto: UUca o£ Nevada improved mo, when 1 fittt c:a:no upon the-?o sccnoa, vrith a lonesome sense cf something pending in tho air—a haunted fo ling.

If I havo mado plain by tho foregoing paragraphs tho peculiar impression uia-.io upon~mo by this strange country, my reader ■wiii sco h iv tiio relatijn of tho following circumstancoa was calculated to strengthen siin'ri an impression, particularly, when Isay that it \v:i; mada i.3 put mo out of doors in tho desert, by a brother teamster (ulbeit, ha \n< a " bull whicker,") as lie and I sat smoking by tho llickoring', uncurtain light of a aagc fira. I cama to Novada in ISG3, in the fall. "My name is Solim Simpson, and, being tpure in flesh and six feet tivo inches tall, I supple- it was vary easy for some low and not v ry bright jokist to corrupt my name inf:o Slim Sim, which I am now generally died by tho minors and bull whackers of thc.=o mountains. In fact, lam come to bo t;o accustomed to that sort of a name that I am compelled, sornotimo?, whon I Figu a froight bill or some such papor, to pause- a inomont to consult my memory as to what I ought to write - whether blim Sa-n or Selicn Simpson. When 1 first came here, or pretty soon after, a man named Tud Wottors and rnysdH followed "Old Tannohill" out of Austin about to tho place whore, at this time, is Eureka District, on a prospecting ■tour. Wo thought wo found good mine?, and Toil, who was an old miner, said the rjck was " bully." Wo made two trips to our claims, and spent most of the winter of 'Gil, prospecting and riding. We took specimens to tho ass lyors in Austin ; but they pronounced our v?r.k mostly dead, •with considerable silver, but too rofractory t) be worked profitably. I was an emigrant from tho States, and those things di^ojraged mo; but Tod never lost faith, for he was more on tho beliovo than I ever \va?.

Tod waa a protty smart fellow, with a trcol oduea'i>n, and wroto a good hand. He was ono of tlioso spiritualists ; and at night in camp ho used to talk to me for hours about spirits, and noises, and manipuSjtion?, nntil I got so tometitnea that a coyota, howling away out in the dark, from the light of tho fire, -would givo rue cold ,s'..i-.-er., up my bank. Some people aro not BnpQrrtiti»UF.ind I do not know that I am, naura'ly; bat I was rearal in tho old-fa-hitmed s;:hool of ghost stories, aud I gaess a littlo superstition was ground into mo wiih my small dgse of learning However, it i?, lam not stuck after spiritualism out oF deois at night, i.i the sago-brush wildorneas ; particularly in winter, when tho coyotes aro howling and the wind is blowing that lonesome whi^psr through (he Siges and pines. So, whon Tod woahi kcop on with his long talks about spirit influence being a part of the atmosphere which ia around us, the Hamo a? the air is a part of the wator we drink; or as iho awful lightning lives in tiie innocent air until it finds a medium to etriko through—as ho would keep on {ringing things which I supposed to bo triio, to prove the likelihood of his spiritual doctrine, which I did not want to believe— I had to toll him at last that he was crazy, and just had learning enough to make a fool of himßelf.

This mado him about half angry onenigbt, an wo stood out in the wildorness on opposite aides of a camp fire, and ho said to me, as the light shono up in our faces—looked 6traight into my eyes, and shaking his finger at me —"Sim, if I dio before you do, I'll make it my business to show you that I know what epiritualism moans; now jou mind if I don't."

Aud several times along toward the spring of IStii he repeated his threat, or promise (whichever it was). LJut about that time bo went to San Francisco, to be doctored for somo sort of heart disease—a kind of cramp he had in his left breast — and as I wont to work in Austin, I taw no moro of him for some time

About the time Tod leftforSan Francisco, thero was much conjecture about tho geographical location ol somo rich prospects, a<vay couth of Austin. Colonel Dave Buel and party had bean down that way looking for prospects, and as bis party nearly perished, of course others were talking about "going after it," and wanting to bet they could get through and find "the Lost Mine."

This lost mine was, in ISG3 64, and is yet, believed by many to be exceedingly rich ; so rich that the raw ore was beaten out for gun-sights by tho lost, wandering emigrants, who found and picked up the ore, while seeking their unfortunate way to California.

Now, the fall of 1861 wae a very hard one for minere in Reese River ; no money, no work, flour twenty-five gold dollars per cwt., and other things in proportion. I was soon out of a job and wandering about the camp, when whom should I meet one cold day, as he got out of the Etage, but Tod Wotters, well dressed and looking well "Why, halloo, Sim ! Old boy, how are you ?" " Nover had lees or felt heartier!" I replied. " What're you doing for yourself?" eaid lie. "Nothing," said I. " Wei1, I've got a ' lay out' for you," said he. "The doctors at the Bay say I'm to stay in the mountains and live out of doors, and I'm now come to ' go for' the Lost Mine, and I want you to come along. Just you and I. If we can't find It with the information I've got then I'm fooled." " How did you get your information!" I asked.

" Why, we had a big meeting of spiritualists down at tho Bay.—two of the best mediums in the State—and whon it came my turn to ask questions of tho spirits, I said :

"' la there any spirit present which, while in the body, was with the lost emigrant train in Eastern Nevada and Death Valley.

"Jhe answer was ' Yes !' " 'Does the spiritiramombor of the company finding silver oa tho trip '!' The anawer was ' Yes !'

" Will the spirit communicate what he remembers to a prospector now presto t from that country ?' The anevyer was ' Yv.> !' " Then I asked the spirit if he preferred to write or talk, and tho answer waa ' Write.' So. as one of the mediumß was a writing medium, she got into communication, and tho spirit wrote out where it is, directions how we are to go there from hero, and where we will find grass and water. I've got money enough for the outfit. Will you go ?" " Yes," I said, " Tod,l'm ready to go anywhere with you, partly because I'm not .ibis to stay whero I am. But I don't go much on that spiritual story " • • Ah, well 1" said Tod " mind what I told you, old fellow, last winter."

Nothing mote was then said about spirits, but I knew mitrhty well a? soon as wo got out into tho wilderness Tod would get on to hi* old strini; with new power ; yet I did not suppo-ohi would carry tho matter as far lib he eventually did.

in a law duye wo wero ready. Tod bought two emait mules —one to ride, one to pack—and i rodo'my faithful, tough old c.ayune. When ovorything was ready, we started ; up Main-street, to Austin ; over to granite summit of the Toiya be, bound out oast and south for a six weeks''trip. It vr,n then December, and already the enow lay on the higher summits. Our spiritually written instructions were

to rido " nearly due oast, from Austin, over three ranges of mountains, until wo enmo to tho foot of a very high, steop rango " (thnt which is now known as Whito Pine) ; then we weroto"consttho west foot of that rango for about seventy-five miles, until we came to somo red bluffs in tho valley, where there was a spring ; thence, wo wero to bear moro to tho cast, passing through the great range into nnothor valley, by way of two adjacent canons" Up to this point, wo should rind plenty of water without difficulty ; but after pacing the great range wo wero to carry water in two kegs, to uso in caso wp missed the Indian Spring?! After passing through the groat range, wo wore to "look for tho trail of Iho lost WAggOliS, and follow that southerly to a low reddish mountain, where there was n dug spring, and base, anti-a-.onial metal. They follow tho waggon trail in its meandcringa until wo come to a lone, dark, oblong peak or reef, and on tho west by south faco of th.it hill was 'Tho Lost Mino.' " The second night out, wo cainpod at our old camp at Eureka, where Tod complained of a '• bad cold" and his old cramp, so we laid by ono day. Tho following day wo crocked tho Diamond Mountains, and on tho next day wo camped among tho lloat quartz, on tho west sido of what is now Whito Pine lJi-tiict, Tod still complaining of fail cramp and talking of spiritualism every evening. In throa days moro wo passod many fine largo springs, and arrived at the red blutTa. At this point, Tod bocamo feverish and delirious ; ~s& I moved next morning up into tho mountains, whore wood was plenty and gn»FS better. Tod still raved about spirits and mediums, and elements, and sphoro within sphere, until midnight of that liret day in tho mountains, when, all of a tuddeu, lie stoppod his ravings. From that time until morning, he scorned to livo only by spoil.--, and about dlybrouk ho die J ; rij/bt there, out of cloors, by tho

camp th'O. I taf> nnrl looked ab liiin, thon at t.lio brown, dry valloy, and tho tall, snowy mountains, until tho sense of loneliness and weak humanity came so strongly upon mo that, for a moment, I looked upon my loaded ravolvor with a desperate interest. But the eun was rising bright, just as he mcd to do in my boyhood homo, and I bocame singularly cheered by tho presonco of tho glorious old orb, for ho was tho only object that looked at all natural or familiar to my eight-except poor Tod, and, alas ! he was too natural.

Daring that day I dug a grave to bury Tod, and yet, oven while I was digging the grave, I kopt contradicting my own action by keoping'up tho camp whoro ho was lying, as if I did not know that he was dead and did not need any fire. Alont; in the afternoon I had him all ready to bury as decently as I could. Just then an Indian camo to c.iuip, but ftj soon as ho paw a dead man ho loft without parley, spoiling my hope of lua holp nt tho funoral. It was about dark when I got through covering up the grave and marking tho stal;o at tho hoad, which wns only a fow yards from the camp fire, so I pitched the pick and shovel over by tho fire, and, taking tho axe with mo, went to a (load tree near by to got more wood. When I stoppod to rest in my chopping, I looked toward tho fire, and, great God ! there sat Tod on tho ground, with his knoe drawn up and hid hands clasped around him, looking as natural and life-like as if ho bad not baon buried.

My hair went up with my hat ! All tlio superstition of all tho Simpsons, clean back to the Dark Ages, broke out on me, and I swont io3 water.

Then I said " Pshaw ! I've got a touch of fever, and anxiety has mado mo a little delirious ! I'll chop thia wood and build a firo, cook supper, eat, look ujj the nnimAls, aiiv go to sloop. This is no time for old women's feAt'3 and child's play."

Then I chopped away IJliO a chopping machine—nevor looking towards tho fire, nor elsewhere.

When I had finished chopping, I gathered up an armfwil of the wood, ayain turning my face towards tlia firo—and sure enough there he sat; Tod Wottera— no mistake —looking so nataral that confusion of mind came over me as I stopped and stcoJ, chilled and thiil'ed with a nameless horror. Eitkor I had dreamed of burying a dead man, or else I was now droaining ; or spiritualism had something in it, and Tod was proving hia doctiinc.

I shook off the spell of terror, and making a shade with my hand above my ejes, started around the camp fire, at some diatance off, in a circlo, keeping my eyes on tha figure as well as I could, at the same time taking care not to stumblo and fall over the stones and bushes ; and though I tried to get a full face viow, by going around as I have just related, I could not get such o view, for the 3ide, or rather the back, was always toward me. At last I said, "This will not do I I can't freeze, if the devil was at the tire." So, gathering; all the courage, I walked straight to the fire. There was no one there ! No mark, sign or tokon, except the sad reminders in the equipmont for two when one only remained. Then I built up the fire in silence and solitude, but I did not look—did not look anywhere, excopt ri»ht at what I was attending to. The solitude was awful. I have heard that some great man wrote a bcok in praise of so itude. 1 have my opinion of him. I will not Fay that he was a fool, tut 1 will say ihit if ho or ai j other man trace's in Nevada far out of tho way, for a fow days, he will voto ngainßt solitude all tho rest of his lifo. Solitude ! F^havv ! Tho groatcst criminal, tho lowest, ecummer, could ho speak my language, would on that night have been as wolcomo to mo as an angel; ho could have had tho half—yes ! nil I had. Solitude is a bilk ! But to go on with my story. I cooked and ate a sad, sickening, melancholy supper ; unrolled my blanket?, and then without looking back, walked straight out into the brush to hunt up the animals j because come what mighr, anything was batter than a lo3s- of the stock and being left on foot. I found the animals a short distance from camp, quietly feeding, and after securing them tcr the night with hobbles, I returned towards the fire. When I got near enough to see distinctly, there he sat in the same attitude as before, and just as I caught the first glimpse of him a coyote not far behind me put up his halflaugh, half-howl, starting me until my heart beat against my ribs, and I halted. But it was no nse —I could not freeze nor starve ; so, pulling my hat down over my eyes, I blundered rapidly straight up to the camp fire ; and once there—no sign of anyone ! Piling more wood on the tire I soon laid down, and pulling the blankets over my head, tried to step, but I could not. Neither could I think of the day's occurrences ; and at last I fell into a train of thought in which all the acts.fights.&cenee, and faces I had ever done or known came to mind with the utmost clearness. Faces long dimmed in my memory came up clear in every line, trick, and lineament. Thus following back my line of life, I came to early boyhood, and .there, amid scenes of wading in cool brooks, nut-gatherings in gaudy autumnal forests, romping with the house dog, or trudging off to school, I fell asleep, dreaming myself in a cold winter's night, tucked warm in bed by the dear, kind hands that now moulder far away by the great river. I slept soundly, until tho jellow sunlight mellowed all the sky, and my first waking thought was Tod Wotters ; but there was his grave in full view ; that was a fact.

As I cooked my solitary break ra3t, I ran over the scenes of yesterday and the »ituatioa generally, and fina'ly concluded I was not afraid of spirits or anything else. You see, it was warm, bright, glorious sunlight stimulating me, and giving me life and courage. The sun is one of the things I believe in, and I go a good deal on those ancients who worshipped the sun. Those old fellows were not so far wrong as one might think they were.

After breakfast, I concluded to go on and try to find the Lost Mine according to directions—at least, to try to go on. So I gathered the animals, saddled up, and packed the load upon the mule. Then drawing the reins of Tod's mule around the horn of the saddle, so that he could not put his head down to grass, I mounted my horse, leading the pack mulo, and leaving the other with an empty saddle upon him to fjllow, and away I went over the great White Pir.e range toward the south east. Tho day was splendid, cold—but not so very cold—and tha air clearer than siny air in the world, but so still, so silent —co very still that the jingling of a Spanish spur seemed noisy as the ringing of cymbals.

I mado a long day's ride, for the stock was re3ted, and night came down upon me, while I waß still riding higher up the hills searching for water. I was beginning to feel annoyed about water, and was riding sieadily along, thinking over matters, when I hoard Tod's mule snorting behind me, as if alarmed, and turning to look, I saw the mule, with Tod riding him, passing mo at full gallop up the kill, and still snorting. I had surmised from the eigns that water was no great way off, and now the two animals had quickened their paces, following the mule with the spiritual rider. I tried to hold them back, but it was no use until they came to the other mule, standing

quietly under his vacant Baddle, endeavouring to get his head down to water in a I avrangod camp a 9 usual, still keeping a shy lookout for the strange shadow of my doad and buried companion : but it troubled me no more that night, and I sat by the fire a long time, thinking over the doctrine of tho spiritualists, until I began to conclude perhaps it was just as reasonable for a disengaged spirit to dwoll in tho atmosphero as for a disorganised body to dwell in tho earth—ono becoming otheroal tho other earthy, and both retained in the universo for future combination whon the proper media shall occur to recall tho ethereal to inhabit tho earth. Then I regretted that I had not studied tho modus operandi of spiritual communication, for now, if 1 know how, I might talk to Tod Wotters ; but I did not know how to begin , tho tricks.

I travelled two more days without annoyance from any visitors, and early in tho evening of the second day, I came to tho Dug Spring in the antimonial bill. The antimoniy is bulky and nearly pure metal, and tho spring is almost in tho edgo of tho metallic deposit. At Dug Spring I campod for tho night, and being lonely and not vory well, I dotormined to go no further southward, but mado up my mind to return to Austin. Aftor I had mado this conclusion my spiritual visitor never left tho camp fire, except when I came to it, for five consecutive nights ; but new, instead of sitting at the firo, ho stood with his back toward it and one hand always pointing south. Whenever I was ten yards from the fire I could see him standing, his back toward mo, on the oppoaito side, pointing his outstretched hand south—always south.

I tried many devices to get him to go away. I lirst built anothor lire and moved over to it, thinking.ho would atay by tho old ono. But no !ho would not. Thon 1 built a fire for him nnj carried eueh of hithings as were not nooded to bury Inn body in, and laid thorn down by tlio firo, But ho would not stay thoro. Would not Rtay anywhoro but by my lire, whotiovor l loft it to go ton yards for any purpose, At last on tho fifth night at camp noar a big spring about fifty railaa south of Whito Pine, I stood off from tho firo whilo he stood by it, pointing south as usual, and I shoutod to him theso words:—"Tod Wottors, for God'a sake ! don't drive mo crazy by haunting mo in this way ! I've done the best I could for you, I always did. If I cau't see into spiritualism, I'm willing to say you could. Don't haunt mo this way. It's no uso. I will not go south. No ! not if you bring all tho spirits of the air, 1 will not go ! By tho Holy God of my mother's faith, I will not !" When I had finished this speech, which I uttered with tho distinctness and energy of agony, tho form fadod from tho firo, and I saw it no moro ; but a low, oloar laugh seemed to suffuse the night air, tho wild wind sighod through the long reeds about spring, and the stillnoss of dry, scraggy Nevada fell upon the scone. Some portion of the country is now thoroughly over. " Tho Lost Mino "is not yet found—but I have no inclination to rido that way again. As for spirits and modorn spiritualism, I still do not know what to make of them ; like many wonderful things I have read of, they require either more brains toboliove with, or loss to reason with, than belong to Slim Sam.

Hero Mr Simpson knocked tho ashes out of his pipe, and putting it in tho breast pocket of his coat, arose to hia foot, dustod tho sand from the coat of bia pantaloons, and romarked, "It's a fine, clear night," and gueaEed ho would "turn in"—which guess he soon converted into a fact, and as I followed his example I gaid— " Good-night."