Pioneer Sketches, Part III: Our New Bell [pp. 258-261]

Our Nevew Bell.
nation to make the attempt to reach some
mining camp and send them aid, his an nouncement did not awaken within them the
least glimmer of hope; they felt that his no ble attempt would result in nothing but fail ure, and they bade him good by with the
conviction that he was sacrificing his life
uselessly for them.
But our visitor had struggled on manfully
all day, and as he found less and less snow
to impede his progress as he descended the
western slope of the Sierras, his hopes of
success buoyed him up to continued effort;
he had got below the snow-line, and night
was just about setting in, when he had the
good fortune to come upon a solitary pros pector who was about camping for the night;
in a few minutes he had told his story, had
been refreshed with such food as the miner
had prepared, and seated on his mule was
making good time for our camp, his guide
running along by his side.
As I listened to the story as told to us, I
felt how unfortunate it was that one of our
best mountaineers, and one whose aid in
rescuing the emigrants would have been in valuable, was not in condition to join the re lief party. For Kentucky Bill, as we called
him, the hunter of our camp (who found
a ready sale with us for the game he invari ably brought back with him from his expe ditions) knew every foot of the mountains,
and I was sure that, after two minutes'
talk with the emigrant, he could lead a relief
party direct to their camp. But he had that
afternoon been drinking too freely, had had
a fight with Texas Jack, with whom a long standing trouble had existed, and had been
taken away by his friends to sober off.
Even while I was regretting his absence and
incapacity, he came staggering into the
room, and was intercepted by his two part ners. They had a short conversation with
him, which seemed to greatly sober him; he
was then taken up and introduced to the
stranger, and in a few minutes left the room.
On my saying to one of his partners that it
was such a pity Bill was not in a condition to
go with them, he electrified me by replying:
"Go with us? He will be on the trail in
fifteen minutes; he told us to get some fancy
grub together, and he would go and saddle
the mules."
By this time our little town had awakened
into new life. The stores were all open,
and everywhere hurry and bustle prevailed.
The traders were all busy putting provisions
of different kinds into portable shape. No
goods were priced nor scales brought into
use on this occasion, but everything was
free that could possibly be of use in saving
the lives of that little band of entrapped
emigrants, whose fate we feared would be
sealed before we should be able to reach
them; besides, the traders knew the "boys"
would settle their bills undisputed when
they returned-but the main thing now was
to lose as little time as possible in the start.
While I was watching our worthy doctor,
all muffled up for a long ride, busily packing
his saddle-bags, the clatter of hoofs outside
told me that the mules had arrived. I
could hardly believe my eyes when I saw
Bill, apparently perfectly sober, dismount
from one of them, and assist in adjusting
the packs on the saddles. In less than five
minutes they were off, Bill calling out as he
mounted his mule, "We'll tell them you're
coming; climb the ridge at the head of the
creek, then follow our trail."
In a few minutes other mounted parties
were on their way, some with packs fastened
behind them, and others driving loaded animals. It was a full hour after Bill had left
us before the last of the relief train started
and filed away in the darkness. Gradually
the lights were extinguished, and silence
again brooded over our little town. Our
new bell, having done its work nobly and
well, was now silent in its tower, but it was
hours before we who remained behind were
able to sleep: our thoughts were with our
companions, now far on their way up there
towards the regions of perpetual snow, straining every nerve and doing all that man could
do to snatch from the grasp of the storm its
expected prey.
As day dawned upon the camp of the beleaguered emigrants, they were surprised to
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