JIM NORTON'S STORY.

Otago Witness, Issue 2675, 21 June 1905, Page 90

JIM NORTON'S STORY.

Some three years ago I came to Hagarty's with the intention of prospecting a lew places amongst the old workings where so much gold was obtained 'during the early sixties. At the time I came here I was possessed of an idea that the old diggers would leave a narrow etrip of maiden ground defining the boundaries of their respective claims, and by my working "along those boundaries I .would possibly obtain payable results. I surmised all manner of good things as emanating from my venture, but was not rewarded to the extent of my imaginings — indeed, a digger is seldom so rewarded. I was fairly successful, however, and felt content at the partial realisation of my hopes. Before I was a year at Hagarty's I had built a snug hut in a sunny aspect upon a narrow strip of flat near •the creek.

The winter was approaching, so I packed tip a goodly store of provisions, resolved to hibernate as pleasantly as possible away from the haunts of man. June set in with sharp frosts and occasional showers of snow, but it wasn't until July that .the really seasonable winter weather commenced that year at Hagarty's. When I opened the door of my hut one morning I was not astonished to see the country round about covered to a depth of several feet with snow. I had expected some such occurrence ; therefore looked upon it as a matter of course.

The nights were dark and bitterly cold, md for a whole week snow fell intermittently, until it was piled several feet deep around and upon my hut. One

night as I sat before my Sre reading a collection of essays by English writers I distinctly heard a coo-ee. I jumped from my seat, and threw open the door. 'Snow was falling outside, and the great crystalline flakes descending from the impenetrable darkness above passed slowly and silently through the narrow jbeam of light thrown through the doorway from my 'candle within. I called out as loudly as I could, and then listened intently for an answering coo-et^ but not a sound broke the stillness of th« night. I procmed my 'lantern, and putting a lighted candle into it proceeded to hang it° above the door on the outside, so that if seen by any person the light would serve to direct them towards my hut. To venture any distance beyond my door on such a night would have been risky, if not impossible, owing to the depth of snow ; and, besides, I could nob be certain of the direction whence the coo-ec proceeded. I sat up all night, and kept the candle alight in the lantern, and when morning broke I ventured out, and waded through the snow in the direction of the cliff at the foot of M'lntosh' s spin. On arriving at the cliff I saw the figure of a man in a crouching posture beneath an overhanging piece of rock. I called out to him, but received no reply. I went up to where he was,, and taking hold of his coat drew him over upon his back. He was apparently sleeping, but I knew it was the snow-sleep — the^ sleep of death —unless restoratives were instantly applied. He was not a big man, therefore I put him' across my shoulders, and thus burdened waded through the STiow to my Hut. Arriving there I deposited my burden upon the floor, and proceeded to rub his hands and face with snow. I divested him of his clothes, and rubbed his body with snow until I felt the flesh take on a warmth that indicated a circulation of the blood. After a time the muscles began to contract in a manner painful to behold, and my patient's body contracted to such an extent that I feared for his ultimate fate. Before the day was past, however, the action of the muscles became less frequent and violent, the beating of the heart more regular, while the breathing — which at times earlier in the day was l ow — was now deep and full. I had placed my patient upon a spare stretcher which was in my hut, and as the day wore on and darkness approached I placed a lighted candle upon the table standing near his bed. By the light I could detect any action of the features that might denote a return to consciousness. The features appeared to me to be rough and hardened by exposure • the forehead was low and retreating, and was .partly concealed by a growth of reddish hair that was well streaked with grey. The cheek bones and eyebrows were prominent, , and the lips, now slightly apart, were thin and colourless. Hardly had I conceived the idea that the features must be those of a man over 60 years old than I noticed a- slight twitching of the eyelids, a slow movement of the head to one side, and the eyes slowly opened, their glance falling on me as I moved to approach my patient's bedI involuntarily came to a standstill, for as the stranger's eyes met mine in one long questioning glance I saw, the light of delirium suffuse those small, restless orbs of his. "Do you feel better?" I asked. He dad not reply, but continued gazing at me as if my presence astonished him. I poured out a little whisky, and asked him to drink it. , . %.- He did so, and as I held the cup to his lips, his eyes were fixed on mine. After a brief interval he began to mutter some words, which I failed to understand; therefore I suggested lus reframm<r from speech until he was better. But he°kept on muttering disjointed sentences, from which I gathered such Avoids as "M'lntosh," "black rock," "gold,"' "murder,'' etc. By an effort h& raised himself in the bed, cmd^ glaring with eyes wide open towards the door, shrieked curses upon some imaginary person there. "He is there!' 1 he Jelled; "I see him beckoning me to follow im as he beckoned me onward to the ledge of the cliff on the night I got lost in the snow. Curse you, M'lntosb., and your gold. You shall not have a grain of it. I'll get it all now, every ounce of it. I have the key to your treasure. Ha ! ha ! ha! To-morrow I'll reach Hagarty's, and then, near the black rock, and three paces to the north. Ha ! ha ! ha ! I didn't watch you for nothing. I hold the paper. Get away — you are dead — I murdered you. A thousand curses upon you — go !" As he uttered those last words he leaped from the bed, and rushing past me before 1 had time to raise a restraining hand, he threw open the door that was standing ajar, and disappeared into the darkness beyond.

I followed instantly, calling out to him to return for his clothes. The snow was still falling, and a bitterly cold wind was swirling the flakes around me. Pursuit would-be of no avail, so I returned to my hut.

About a forindght after this I was able to get down from Hagarty's and notify the occurrence to the police. On search being made the mid© body of the man I had once rescued from the snow was found in Hagarty's Creek. In a pocket of the clothes left in my hut the constable found a carefully folded piece of faded paper, upon which was written) : "At the Black Rock turn four paces north."

The constable gave me the paper, so that I might make what use I thought bewt of tho instructions it bore.

There are so many black rocks at Hagarty's that I fail to see how it is possible to just hit the one referred to in the paper, which I still retain in my possession. I have little doubt but that the instructions upon this paper have some connection with the gold hidden by old Peter M'lntosh before he was murdered. It is not for me to say, however, that the man whom I once rescued from the terrible snow-sleep in which I found him was the

perpetrator of the cruel murder at Hagarty's in the early sixties. o