604 
FOREST AND STREAM 
[Dec. 27, igo2. 
"When the Long Shadows Fa^ll." 
At dusky eve, when the long shadows fall. 
And the last simlight lingers on the wall, 
My book laid down, I light my pipe, and dream 
Of long past hours in forest and by stream, 
.Orrce , more T saunter up the woodland way, 
To seek the sweetest, brightest flowers of May, 
And gather clusters of Its fragrant sheaves. 
Hiding their buds beneath the withered leaves. 
Again I loiter by the mountain brook, 
Tempting the wary trout from shady nook. 
Or cast the fly on lake or river fair. 
To rouse some giant from his stony lair. 
In s-ummer's heat I seek the forest's ^hade, 
And on some mossy stone supinely laid, 
With limbs at rest, and mind at perfect ease, 
Watch the stray sunbeams flickering through the trees. 
I see -the grouse burst forth with thundering wings, 
I hear the woodcock's whistle as he springs 
From alder covert near some marshy rill, 
Qr-steattered birches on the sunny hill. 
« 
I hear the nutshells pattering as they fall — 
Some squirrel feeding in his leafy hall — 
And joining in his feast with right good will. 
The beech and chestnuts soon my pockets fill. 
From dewy spring to autumn's golden haze. 
Float back the visions of departed days. 
Forming bright pictures to the mental eye. 
Of stream and forest in the hours gone by. 
So may it be, when life's last shadows fall, 
And quietly I wait the final call, 
May pleasant memories cheer the parting day, 
And light the path along the untrodden way. 
Von W. 
Dec. 1-2. 
The Wolf] fat the Door. 
BY FRANCIS MOONAN. 
The three friends had eaten their Christmas dinner 
after the time-honored custom and returned to the bar- 
room. 
Take Kunimelwasser, the inn-keeper, looked decidedly 
more pursy than he had a year ago, but evidently was 
still well content with himself and the world. 
Wirt Zaender, the silent philosopher and hugger of 
hot stoves, had more the appearance of a clothes peg, or 
lay figure, whilst his complexion had deepened its resem- 
blance to a dried tobocca leaf. 
Only Tim Mulcahy, the sportsman— the braver of wind 
and rain and frost and snoAV — appeared wholly un- 
changed. Like a well set frame was his square muscular 
body, and his cheek had the tone of a rosy russet apple 
Despite his fifty years he might easily have passed for 
forty. 
Everything about the bar-room wore its accustomed air 
of order and neatness and homely comfort. The canary 
had ceased to sing, but the kettle on the stove had taken 
up his lay after its own soothing fashion. Outside the 
winte^r wind blew searchingly about the eaves, or occa- 
sionally indulged in a fit of bluster which caused the win- 
dows 'to rattle. 
"Veil, gentlemens," said Jake, "vat you tink?" 
This remark was intended less as a question than as a 
comment on the situation of things in general. 
"I think," said Tim, "that Ave're three lucky min. How 
many poor craytures has to dine on sinkers and coffee, 
or iji^ybe go hungry this blessed evenin'." 
"Y&i ya," sighed Jake, "der volf at many a door alretty 
is!" •' 
"The wolf at the dure— the wolf at the dure!" took 
up Tim. "Ay, ay, I remimber — I remimber." 
For a while he leaned against the bar reflectively and 
then rousing himself, exclaimed : 
"Come, boys, sit dowm and I'll tell yez a story." 
When the three friends had taken their seats around 
the stove Tim spoke as follows : 
"There isn't many things I haven't turned me hand to 
since I came to this counthry. I've carried the hod, I've 
driven.a hearse, I've struck for a blacksmith, I've held a 
candle- for a plumber, I've laid ties on a railroad, I've 
cooked on a canal boat, I've hoed corn, I've washed dishes 
in a restaurant, I've blasted rocks in a quarry, I've cut 
ice, I've shoveled coal, I've run a razzle dazzle and I've 
bossed wild bastes in a menagerie. 
"There's one other thing I did that ought to have made 
me a millionaire, but it didn't, and that is I dug for goold. 
Yez mind Casey — him that caught the wild cat. Well, 
}-ears ago Casey and me was out in Colorado workin' in 
the mines. Afther me experiences there if I iver find 
raeself in Roosia I'll keep out of Sibayria — that's all. 
"Well, one evenin' Casey and me was down at the 
'Rattlers' Din,' which was the name of a saloon run by 
a man by the name of Brimstone, or Ould Bill Blazes, 
as we called him. He had the place all fixed up with 
rattlesnakes that he claimed to have killed. We used to 
say he kept thim on tap for his impty bottles. Well, sir, 
on the evenin' I spake of everything was unus'ally quiet. 
Instead of a rattlin' of dice and a cussin' and a-swearin' 
there was Ould Bill Blazes dozin' in an arum chair and 
me sittin' at a table readin' a paper and Casey amusin' 
himself with the dice at the bar. I don't know why it 
was, or at laste forget. At all ivints it was only the calm 
before the storm. 
"I was beginnin' to get a little drowsy meself listenin' 
to the snorin' of Ould Bill whin the dure opened and in 
walks a man by the name of Sour Mash Sam — a big, raw- 
boned man, with long hair and a skin on him like an alli- 
gator. He was supposed to have been a horse thief or 
something of that kind and was gin'rally looked on as 
a dangerous man. I bid him the time of the evenin' and 
he just nodded and walks up to Casey. 
'■ 'Good evenin', stranger,' says he, 'have a throw for 
drinks,' 
"Casey hesitated a minute and then said, *I don't mind.' 
" 'You throw first,' says Sour Mash Sam. 
"So Casey began to throw and threw 37. 
" 'Reckon I'll bate that,' says Sour Mash, takin' the 
dice. 
" 'Ha I' he cried afther makin' the first throw, 'four and 
five is eleven and three is seventeen.' 
"'Hould.on!' cried Casey, 'that's not the way to count' 
"Whin I heard Casey say this I cocked me ears, for I 
srnelt trouble at once. Now. Casey in thim days was a 
quiet unasshumin' j^oung man — ^just the sort of one you'd 
think you'd be safe in bluffin', but there's where you'd 
make the mistake. 
"'That's not the way to count — eh?' says Sour Mash, 
glarin' at Casej-. 'Wal, that's the way / count.' 
" 'Well, thin, me man,' says Casey, 'you'd betther go 
bacl^ to school.' 
"At this Sour Mash let fly a volley of oaths and wanted 
to know if 'a green galoot' like Casey preshumed to tell 
hint to go back to school. 
"'You're a green galoot, ain't you?' says he. 
" 'Well,' says Casey, 'I may be green but I ain't black.' 
"There was a silence of a minute or two, while you 
could see Sour Mash's mouth workin'. Thin with a roar 
like a bull he made a dive for his gun, but Casey was too 
quick for him and had him round the body, pinnin' his 
arums to his sides. I seen it was me turn to lind a hand 
now, so I got up and wrinched the weapon away from 
Sour Mash. Casey thin squared off and let fly with his 
right and sint the bully sprawlin' on the flure. 
" 'If you won't go back to school I'll tache you a lesson 
anyway,' says he. 
"'That'll do, Casey,' says I, 'and now come home.' 
"At the dure I turned about and says to Sour Mash, 
who was gettin' up from the flure rubbin' the back of 
his hea.d and lookin' cowed as a sick calf: 'You can have 
your gun back, me man, whin you learn to be good !' 
"Casey and me trudged home to our shanty in silence. 
Once there, howiver, I took Casey by the hand and shook 
it. 
" 'Casey,' says I, 'you're a man. But you've upset our 
hopes of becomin' millionaires. We've got to clear away 
from this at once. I hate turnin' me back on an inimy,' 
says I, 'but whin an inimy is a common murderer there's 
no help for it. If we stay here our lives isn't worth 
twinty-four hours' purchase.' 
"Casey agreed with me sadly, so we set about gettin' 
ready to start. We got our few spare duds and a couple 
of blankets together and tied thim up in bundles; thin 
stufifed some bacon and hard tack, with a few cookin' 
utinsils, into the bundles and flung thim over our shoul- 
ders. We took a last look around the shanty, wished it 
ajew and thin struck for the thrail. 
"It was late in the fall and the moon was shinin' like 
an electhric lamp. So along we pegged at a good rate, 
not sorry to be cuttin' loose from our way of life, though 
wishin' we were loaded with goold instead of ould duds. 
Afther we'd covered five or six miles, we began to feel a 
bit tired, for the thrail was rough, and we decided to go 
into camp for the night. There was a belt of pines to our 
right, and we inthered this and selected a spot. In a 
Httle while we had a fire lit, cooked some bacon and made 
our supper; thin wrappin' ourselves in our blankets were 
soon fast asleep. 
"I awoke towards mornin' with the soughin' of the 
pines. The moon was gone down and it was dark as 
pitch and much coulder. A change in the weather, thinks 
I; the Lord grant it don't come on to snow! 
"I roused Casey and we had a bite of breakfast and as 
soon as it was light enough to see we shouldered our 
packs and started on our way once more. 
"Now the station, as I'd often heard, was about thirty 
miles distant from the mines, so with fair weather and 
no mishaps we didn't doubt that we'd be able to make 
it before nightfall. But the looks of the weather filled 
me with unaisiness. It was leaden and glowerin' with a 
low wind moanin' across the mountains. I said nothing, 
howiver, only kept urgin' Casey to quicken his pace. 
Along towards noon I could hould me thoughts no longer, 
so I says: 
" 'Casey, I'd give the biggest nugget I iver seen mined 
to feel just one drop of rain.' 
" 'How much would you give,' says the poor innocent, 
'to see a flake of snow, for there's one ?' 
"I started like a man at the sight of a ghost. 
" 'Casey,' says I, 'God help us if the thrail should get 
covered up !' 
"With that;', in a sort of panic, I started on a run and 
called on Casey to follow me. But runnin' over a rough 
thrail is no aisy matther and we were soon winded. But 
the minute we got our breath off we started again and 
kept this up for a couple of hours. Manewhile the snow 
was fallin' fast, coverin' up the thrail, so that we could 
hardly see it. I prayed to God that we might fall in 
with some one who knew the counthry, but niver a soul 
did we lay eyes on. Pantin' and perspirin' we struggled 
along, keepin' the thrail to the best of our judgment, 
whin suddenly we had to pull up for fear of fallin' into 
a chasm. 
" 'Casey,' says I, 'we're off the thrail. Back on your 
thracks for your life, man!' 
"For a while we were able to see our thracks, but the 
snow continuin' to come down like a blanket they grew 
fainter and fainter and fin'lly disappeared altogether. 
Me heart sank within me like lead and I felt like 
throwin' meself down on me face in the snow. Oh, but 
it's a terrible feelin' to be lost in the wilderness. Whin 
I was a boy at school I remimber readin' a poem about 
a sailor that was cast away all by himself. 
" 'Alone, alone, all, all alone — 
Alone on a wide, wide say!' 
"That's how you feel, and for the moment I forgot I 
had Casey with me. 
" 'What's the matther, Tim ?' says he, seein' me stand- 
in' there as if I'd been turned into a stone. 
" 'Casey,' says I, thryin' to conthrol meself, 'we're lost — 
that's what's the matther, me poor frind!' 
" 'We're lost !' he cried in a wild, frightened voice ; 
*oh, my God, Tim I and I'm the cause of it. Forgive me, 
won't you?' And he grabbed hould of me hand. 
" 'Casey,' says I, 'I have nothing to forgive and you 
don't act like the conqueror of Sour Mash Sam. We're 
lost, 'tis thrue, but we may find ourselves again. 
Sthranger things have happened. Now, the first thing to 
be done is to get our bearin's, if we can, so if you plaze 
I'll make a few observations.' 
"I knew something of woodcraft and began to examine 
the trunks of the trees and the growth about thim, but 
couldn't make m.uch of it. Thin I climbed to the top of a 
tall pine and viewed the counthry all 'round, but couldn't 
see the laste sign of a habitation, or anything to guide 
me. So I climbed down and tould Casey that so far luck 
seemed against us, but it might turn. 
"On a bould vinture, thin, we struck out a line through 
the openest part of the mountains. We kept on this till 
it was near nightfall, whin once more we had our path 
cut oft' by' a chasm. 
"It was still snowin', but lighter. We got into the woods 
and prepared to spind the_ night with heavy hearts. We 
lit a fire in the lea of a big rock and cooked our bacori, 
but though we hadn't ate anything since mornin', nayther 
of us was hungry, bein' too anxious, faith. But we were 
like to be hungry enough before long, with nothing but 
wind, maybe, to fill up on. 
"Whin we'd done atin', we cut some spruce boughs, 
shook the snow off thim and spread thim about the fire 
to sleep on. Thin we sat down and lit our pipes. 
"By this time the snow had stopped fallin' but it blew up 
piercin' could, so that we had to wrap our blankets about 
us. There we sat like a pair of red min by the flickerin' 
camp fire, and just about as churful and talkative. The 
dead laves rustled around us in the chilly blasts and the 
pines whispered and sighed like so many sperrits above 
our heads. 
" 'I'm thinkin', Casey,' says I, 'that this sort of a life 
would make an Injun of me before long.' 
"Casey didn't answer, but heaved a sigh, poor man. 
By and bye, seein' that it was no use attimpdn' conver- 
sation, I says: 
" 'I guess I'll go to bed and lave you to look afther the 
fire till midnight; thin I'll keep the second watch till 
mornin'.' 
"I was afraid if I let Casey go to sleep first that I 
couldn't trust him to stay awake in the early hours, 
which was the time the fire would be most needed. 
"'Where's that chambermaid with the warmin' pan?' 
says I. 'Well, here goes. Good night, Casey— and mind 
you don't nod and let the fire go out.' 
" 'No fear,' says Casey, as he put on more wood. 
"With a log under me head and me feet to the blaze I 
wrapped me blanket close about me and closed me eyes. 
But though I was tired I was so anxious I couldn't sleep. 
What was to become of us with only another day's 
rations — ^half rations at that — and no firearms, or laste- 
wise only a little six-shooter? I lay ponderin' this ques- 
tion with eyes half closed till long into the night. I 
could see Casey sittin' by the fire a picture of melancholy, 
with head thrun' forrard on his breast and hands hangin' 
by his sides, but rousin' himself now and thin to keep the 
fire alive. The wind wint down and everything became 
still as death. All of a sudden out of the blackness of 
the forest there rose a horrid panjemonium as if all the 
divils had been let loose and thin something flopped down 
near the fire and was away in a minute, silent as a spook. 
"Casey jumped up with a shout and thin fell a thrim- 
blin' like a lafe. I tell yez I was scared meself, but only 
for the minute or till I opened me eyes; then 1 knew it 
was only a big horned owl objectin' to our fire, 
"I began laughin' at Casey, and hearin' me he took 
courage and cries : 
'"My God, Tim, what was that?' 
"I explained the situation to him and thin lay down 
again, and do yez know that afther this my thoughts bein' 
disthracted I fell sound asleep. 
"I woke with the could and seen the fire gone out and 
Casey doubled up, snorin' like a bagpipes. I was goin' 
to rouse him up and coort-martial him, but no, says I, 
the poor crayture needs all the sleep he can get; I'll take 
him to task in the mornin'. 
"I built up the fire again and set it agoin', and thin as 
I sat ponderin' an idea came to me. Now in me young 
days I sarved a 3'ear before the mast and knew something 
of the stars, and my idea was that if I could locate the 
north star I'd be able to lay a coorse for the mornin'. I 
looked up at the sky and seen that the clouds were all 
cleared away and the stars shinin' bright. So I crept out 
of the forest and made me observations and found that 
we'd been thravelin' due north instead of south, which 
shows how one gets twisted up in the wilderness. Well, 
I laid out our coorse for the mornin,' feelin' that it was 
God directed me and returned to camp. I found Casey 
.still snorin' away and I let him snore till it was just day- 
light ; thin I shook him and he woke with a start. 
" 'Casey,' says I, T must complimint you on bein' such 
a wide-awake watch.' 
" 'Sure, Tim,' says he, 1 didn't intind it, but the sleep 
stole on me.' 
"I believed him and forgave him. 'But,' says I, 'we're 
on a perilous voyage, me man, and we've got to steady 
our helm and keep a sharp look out.' 
"We ate a little hard-tack, savin' the bacon for dinner, 
weighed anchor and lay to our coorse. We met with 
nothing but head winds and cross says and had to tack 
twinty times before noon and thin we didn't seem much 
advanced. In the afthernoon we made a little betther 
way and thought that maybe we might fetch up in some 
port, but the night found us still tossin' on the high says. 
"Well, to drop me nautical lingo we wint into camp in 
the head of a rocky defile. The weather continued clear 
but could as death. We made a fire, fixed things as com- 
fortable as we could and thin the question was whether 
we should fry all our bacon. 
" 'Fry it all !" says I ; 'no use makin' two bites of a 
cherry.' 
"That night I kept the first watch. All was quiet till 
about midnight, whin what should I hear but the barkin' 
of wolves in the distance ! It made me blood run could. 
I didn't wake Casey till on towards mornin' and I said 
nothing about the wolves. 
" 'Ain't you goin' to lie down?' says he. 
" 'No,' says I, 'I'm not sleepy.' 
" 'Nor hungry, maybe,' says he, by way of a joke. 
" 'Nor hungry,' says I. 
" 'Thin,' says he, 'there's something wrong. Tim, you 
ain't goin' to give up ?' 
"The words stung me and I jumped to me feet. 
" 'Whin Tim Mulcahy gives up,' says I, shakin' me first, 
'St- Pether or the divil will have him by the hand !' 
