SHORT STORIES

Otago Witness, Issue 3514, 19 July 1921, Page 57

SHORT STORIES

By

Cora S. Day

THE BURNING OF DIX3NS.

[Copyright.] Dixon must have informed on them. The Government detective could never have have found their well-hidden centre of operations without the aid of one in tho secret of the mountain paths and and the cave so cunningly hidden away. They had always distrusted Dixon. He was not a. mountaineer born, but had come among them several years before, had married a mountain girl and entered into their moonshining industry with a zeal that should have left nothing to be desired. Blit . in spite of ad this, the t races of suspicion still lurked about him, and more than one of the distillers denounced in strong terms the impulse that hurl prompteu them to let him into their confidence. Now their worst fears had been realised. The still had been raided, tile men caught at die work were taken away prisoners, and the fortunate few who were elsewhere at the time of the raid were left to stare b'ankly at the ruins, and then ink into each other s eyes and swear vengeance on the informer. The punishment was decided upon instantly, without a minute’s hesitation or a dissenting voice; the only thing that remained for them to do was the drawing of the lots, to decide who should apply the torch to the little cabin where Dixon and his family were sleeping soundly, all unconscious of the awfud fate that "every moment brought nearer. As they stepped forward one by one to rhaw the lots, the character amt "thoughts of each might almost be reed in his face and action. One might well shrink from the pitiless sternness that showed in the faces of the majority. Here and there was one who looked relieved when he found that he had drawn a blank, but one man stamped Ins foot and swore with rage when he saw that lie had drawn a blank and that the job had not fallen to his share. At length someone said : “Now. Hawkins, it's your turn. Take your puli.” and in obedience to the summons a tall, shambling figure rose from the darkness of the outer circle. As he stretched out his long bony hand to take his turn a fit of coughing seized him, and when it passed it left him trembling with weakness. He drew the lot quickly, as if fearful that he would lose his turn, and sank weakly down on an upturned keg, without looking at his draw. “Let's see it, Hawkins,” said several of the men, and lie opened his hand mechanically. On the up-turned palm lay a black bean. He had drawn tlie Jot. “I sky- Hawkins, you trade with me. T ou ain t fit to do the job. raid one of the men, looking down with rough pity on the shrunken figure. But Hawkins closed his fingers over the bean with a tierce gesture, and a smouldering fire crept into his eyes. He rose slowly to his and said with a firmness and a steadiness of tone that surprised the others: I will do it myself. 1 hone I am man enough not to plav the sneak,” and then he walked out of the cave. Out on the mountain side Hawkins wandered aimlessly until lie stumbled and fell from weakness and exhaustion. Tie lav passive where lie had fallen, and there began a struggle that he had been vainly twing to ward off by action—n struggle of which none ever knew save the silent stars and the all-seeing One above and bevond them. As he lav there scenes from the vast came drifting across his memory—of the time when he was young and strong and happy, while p'-ettv Jennie Watson was true to him. Then Dixon came, with his handsome face and fine manners, and won her away from him. In less than a year they were married, and Tin-1. ins—well, ho had grown careless, and justice had found him out. " V n\v had come the chance for revenge on them both—a revenge that would involve their helpless children as well ns themselves. He rose stifflv. like one in a dream, and went by the shortest and most divert cut down the mountain side to the little settlement in the ,"bettered vcllev. Svißlv and ski'lfullv he did his work. As he watched the tinv tongue of flame that had crept up the bean of kindlings he had prepared. he thought of the fiorv harrier that would soon cut his enemy off from escape with a fierce evnltati- n. Then he turned and ran down .the path with, stumbling footsteps, towards the lonelr. half-mined cabin that, he "nlle-i home, and threw himself noon his hard lied with a g-oan o f physical weakness and pain. Meanwhile the tinv tongue of flame crept slowly upward with soft crackling sounds: one© it blazed bv-aht.h- fcg a. minute, then can’ to a WMe snirf f blue flame, struggled weakly as if for life and went out A Tittle mrl <-.f smoke wound upward and marked the ylnee V» T h©re t.fie fi.nm© Ved h©r>Ti. Tlmn it cipxrlv in fhp Nlrar air. and nothing v/ng loft but til© ho°"o of ku;Jln>© on th© rlooT-sten. w\ th tho ‘tow '•berod to ronrl: coot v-tprfl it W EnrnpJ, n a silont wtness of tho frustrate Lcd'H) of the avenger. A* th© first eorh- rnvc; of th© pom peered c\'-ny the mountain nnJ pent a rav of !i nr ht into the vn/iow of the eahin. Thvon ■G’Wdincr open th. h©9YV (1 oor nyi<l stopp©d fin Gi© Gl] in fin mb a stop i bmpnt at tV»© o i° r ht that mot ov©s. This was what t.fio civ looks a nr] BiDKiml manners of his r> © i °*L ] • o nr ct meant, wap if? A th©v had Red in their eowm’-Mv wort- What if t-bev hnrl «noeeedeH, Jennie am! the voting or>©c v;on1 r] With an imprecation strong and deep, the man turned and called his wife to his

side. She came, looked where he pointed silently at their feet, and then raised her eyes to his dark face in a frightened questioning glance. Before he could answer the unspoken inquiry, he caught eight of a shambling figure coming. Something in the man’s palid face made Dixon turn to his wife and say quickly: “You’d better go inside. He wants to see me, I guess,” and she obeyed him silently. Dixon kicked the debris from the step and advanced towards the advancing figure until he and Hawkins stood face to face in the narrow worn path. The visitor looked into his face with a wavering uncertain glance, his thin lips parted in a meaningless smile that was horrible to see, and then he began to speak in a tone in which treachery and cunning were strangely mingled. “So Dixon was burned out last night, eh? Too bad! Wife and young ones burned! Poor Jennie! Might ’a told her, but then she would 'a warned Dixon.” The listener knew at the first word that the poor wretch before him was insane. As the hol’ow voice went on, betraying the whole fiendish plot to his quickened intelligence, he caught the man suddenly bv the shoulders and held him with a grip that made him stop short in his rambling talk and give a little erv of pain. “See here,’’ cried Dixon, turning the man around in the path so that he faced toward the mountains, “you get out of here quick while I’ve got enough ho’d on myself to keep from shooting you. Go!” and he gave him a push as he released the motionless figure. Hawkins staggered, recovered his balance, and locfked up into the stem face above him. Some last glimmer of reason showed him there his danger, and without a word he turned and ran with uneven steps up the little path that led to the mountains. Dixon quietly cleared away the evidences of the attempt to burn him out, forbade his wife to mention it, and bided his time. Before noon everyone in the valley knew that Dixon’s cabin was still standing, and that Hawkins had disappeared.

A searching party got together quietly and started out to find him. All the long sunny afternoon they tramped and searched over the mountain side, and just as the sun sank behind the highest peak, lighting it up with an unearthly, awesome splendour, they found him. He was lying, face downwards, on the cool, moist ground, one arm thrown up and pillowing his forehead ; in the other hand was clutched tightly a little bunch of faded mountain flowers. A dark crimson stain on the ground beneath the white face told its silent story of death.