Newspaper Page Text
lowa County Democrat.
f VOL. XII. .1 MAWKS'S " SO" no*a there upon the slnir I he flowers lie; 1 piiss-'d them hj I Mint 1 did net cine I or them; 1 wonder if I dare i*o hack npen, now Max ts gen • - I saw him on the lawn lie teased me so, 1 souid net help miv >ofilr the' maid deseended. Aid eageih. Now none nun no, W Ith smPfs and idnslies bleudeo. She gathered them, and then he' >e winded. Iter hand 11 led full of bloom, across the paneled gloom T nlo the very room W hero Max received hi, doom Well may the lover smile, Within the open dooi. Across the oaken Boo it- standelh all the while I'oreives the maiden guile, And laughing, speaks her name. • i>! flowers of snow ana flame. To you he all the Maine, rhat down the stairs she filin'. Cincimuili Com >. I IN A BEAU’S DEN. t Thrilling Adventure in Colorado. During the spring of tB4o our party ■vns encamped on the headspring ■if San Juan, ti region as desolate in its vastc of rocky hills and mountains as it vas fruitful in fun—the object i'f our xpedition, and the more tlangerous •avages, who held full sway at the early ime of which 1 write. A paradise for ‘rappers it. was beyond doubt. There vere lour of us from the settlements of he Colorado, hold, strong, athletic, not mi' below six feet, full formed and mus ■nlar. A rude hut of logs was used as nir headquarters and depository for the ■■'irs, which, from our sueeess and indus :ry, had beeome a large and valuable 'ollectiun. Within the hut were the nth' accommodations which our iso lation front settlement:* made soiree Yom necessity. Blankets swung from ■aeh of the corners served for beds, while in the centre of the room was a roughly-constructed hearth. About his hearth and against the walls were piled and hung the fruits of our winter’s ahor. Thoie is much of real pleasure u the wild, rollicking style of life that aiseinates the trapper, and the suffer ings and privation he endures only lend i. charm to the roving nature. The season was drawing to its close; the snow was beginning to disappear in the valleys, and multitudes of rivulets were ashing themselves into foaming furies is they hastened down to join the swel ling river. Karly one morning 1 nnslung my tile, prepared a small luncheon, and started for the mountainous region to he northward of the camp in quest of game to supply the larder. Hoping to Ti>ss the valley before the warmth of in' rising sun should convert it into an mpassable slough, I hastened forward 0 reach the higher mountains. I reached thorn just as the sun began to tlood the valley with all of its golden warmth and beauty, i’ausingon a lofty • •rest, 1 viewed one of the grandest scenes that inimitable Nature has dared before my wondering eyes. To the smith lay the valley, stretching n its serpentine course until it disap peared in some low-lying hills; to the lorlh wore the mountains, piled one vbove another, till the snow-capped ips lost themselves within approaching ■louds. This is only a faint, idea of the vonderful beauty which held me for a noment. 1 had seen this view many •.lines before, and each time new bean ies were added, and with a warm spring sun rcllccting from the frosty oiis it was indescribably beautiful. Reaching a narrow defile that led to 1 section most frequented by large game, I pushed rapidly onward. The •un mounted higher in the heavens, and *he beautiful frost-work, so lovely when he first rays of sunlight made it look iko glittering diamonds, began to melt nto tiny streamlets. By noon the place where I most i \- ,iected to find a plenteous supply of game was reached, but, to my surprise, here was not the least visible sign of 4iiy. The most careful surveys dis ••losed nothing but tracks several days *ld. To return empty-handed to my •ompanions was by no means a picas tnl idea. It did not lake me long to teeide to push to the north east, and risk the possibility of a night’s deten ion in the mountains. Mile after nile 1 climbed over the rough, preci pitous route. How far J wandered rrom the camp was not easy to deter ninc, but as the afternoon was drawing o a close, and the sun disappea: and be hind tiie lofty peaks about me. a sense of extreme fatigue pervaded my frame. I w;e completely at a lo*s to explain he total disappearance of all signs of inimal life, where befon there had al vavs been an abundance, and the only •ca'sonable conclusion lor me to form was that some wandeting hand of Nava oes had preceded nu . I had advanced hut a couple of miles further into this wilderness of monn ains, when an oncoming darkness and 'igns uf an approaching storm bade in' sek some shelter for the night. Half way up the steep declivity I dis covered a cluster of trees, which premi sed a partial shelter and a supply of ■nishwood fur a tire. A few moments brought me to this haven. The trees verc scrubby, and afforded little or no i-oteenon; but, thankful for the benefit MINERAL POINT. WIS., FRIDAY, FEBRUARY la, IS7S. of that small favor. I wont to work earnestly to rake together dry sticks and loaves for a tiro. by which to roast some of the hoar steak which 1 had prepared for my lunch. With sonic dimculty the wood light ed, and, after sputtering for some time, hurst into a comfortable blare. A couple of spits were soon ready, and the meat, the only article 1 possessed, was blister ing away before the tire. Stepping a few yards aside to a heap j of dead brush, to get a fresh supply of 1 fuel, to my great surprise and joy I dis covered a large cavity in the rocks, 1 eagerly tore away the brush and vines about the entrance, and made im way into the new quarters. It proved to he a rough apartmeu*. extending about fifteen foot into the side of the mountain, and widened from the entrance to the back wall. It was comparatively dry. and a very desirable shelter from the approaching storm. A large pile of brush was easily passed into the cavity, where I speedily removed my supper. When the feeble light of lire illumin ed the dingy place 1 was not so par ticularly at ease as my first impressions led me to hope I would he. The indi cations were quite too evident for mej to be mistaken; 1 had usurped the| abode of a grizzly bear. 1 was not then , so fearful of meeting this terrible mon ster a> I am now,and 1 was not at all in- 1 elined to give it up to Bruin: it wn much more comfortable, compared to I the open air, protected from the storm j which was n w beating against the mountain side w ith increasing fury , "Ah !" was my inward ejaculation, “ this storm will certainly dime Bruin hack to his home and prei ipitatc a meeting with me." I felt confident of meeting the brute w ith an advantage to myself. With my ritle 1 was shine shot; added to this were two strong-shooting navy revol vers and a reliable hunting-knife. There was no idea of sleep for me while things were in this condition: so 1 made a brisk lire near the entrance, and, with a large rock at my hack, I waited pa tiently, m a sitting posture, with my ritle freshly primed and cocked for in stant use at my side, for the appearance of my enemy. The rain was now pouring in torrents upon the snow, already softened by the approaching spring, and, with the melt ing snow, poured down the mountain at a fearful rate. My attention was shortly directed to the top of the en trance, which I had first noticed with a casual glance, hut on examining it more closely found it to be a large flat stone. Of course there was nothing alarm ing in this, and when the water began to trickle through the rocks, making ii necessary for me to remove the I’m' further w ithin the shelter of the cavern, my alarm was not excited in the least. One two long, long hours passed by; still I remained watching for the com ing of the dreadful creature still was the torrent of water pouring about the entrance. 11 ark ! What is that grating sound? Instinctively I raised my ritle to my shoulder and waited. Moment succeeded moment, but still no appear ance fiom the vague darkness be yond. Again it sounded, sharper and more clearly defined than before! What could it he? A half-formed fear tilled me. Was every tiling right ? In a mo ment more the suspense' was broken; an enemy more dangerous than the bear had already faced me. The water had worn away the sandy soil between the rocks, causing the large stone at the I tot to m to fall, completely choking up tin 1 way. I was a prisoner ! A fail sense of my position tilled me with the wildest alarm. Vainly I put imy shoulder to the huge rock and es sayed to push it from its lodgment; hut it. only seemed the (inner, and worked the harder, Turn my thoughts whichever way I may, the awful sickening idea of starv ing slowly continually haunted me. The tire was blaring brightly, and the dim shadow danced fantastic figures on the wall; the rain heat down with un abated fury, and a distant tlasli of light ning revealed a few small crevices about the entrance; the low growling of the hear, that had now returned, and the scratching of his sharp claws against the rock that shut him out as complete ily as 1 was shut in. all combined to 1 make my reveries of the most tin -1 pleasant nature. 1 ‘‘lt will >c two days,’ thought I when calmness ruled my mind, “before my comrades take any steps to look ! for me. They will not he alarmed at I my being out for om night, and the second night's absence will only excite their anxiety, not greatly indeed, for tin y tru-l to my skill and strength to carry me through any ordinary conflict. Two day s to excite theiralarm, and one to reach me. if they take a direct route for me, which is not at all likely, and the terrible storm has washed away the , faintest trace of my trail. Three days of living death at least; and that may be lengthened until—too lnU-!" My luncheon had barely satisfied the hunger caused by the day's struggle over the mountains; there was an in exhaustible supply (T wate r within three feet of me, but. alas ' not a drop that I could get! Casting tuy ey* s upon the flour, I re solved to gain what refreshment! might in a sound sleep. There was no fear of ,t possible intrusion from any source, and the sweet oblivion of sleep soon robbed me of all consciousness of the ' horror in store lor me. AA ould that the same oblivion had covered my follow dig experience ' With the first dim rays of sunlight, faintly struggling through the narrow crevices, 1 was astir, with my mind and ; body refreshed for the labor before me. | 1 had a keen appetite, but it did not as Minn’ alarming proportions. The storm had passed entirely away, and the sun rode the heavens majestieallv. muiim mod by the slightest cloud Yet not , withstanding the brilliancy without, the cavern was only dimly lighted, A fresh lire dispelled the morning’s gloom. Howto gat out was the next thing. The first step was to estimate the. weight of the rock from iis dimensions. My philosophy, 1 confess, was rusty from long disuse, but this was the re suit: Six feet long, four feel wide, and three feet thick seventy two cubic feet of solid rock. Specific gravity of water tt> rock, one to two and eighty-three hundredths. Multiplying this result by the weight of one cubic foot of water gave the weight. pounds 1 smiled grimly at my desperate attempt to lift, and set my teeth together with the firmness of despair. My next calculation was tin weight 1 might lift by using one of the poles which I had thrown in for wood, as a lever. 1 could lift a little more than oiie-tifth' My thoughts llevv from one determination to another. One project was no sooner determined than another was conceived equally infeasi ble as im predecessor. A happy thought dashed upon me, after a eoiiplcof hours wore s'owly away. If I could drill a hole in tin rock, I might blast il enough to get out. I'o think was to act. Draw ing my knife from its sheath. 1 began to examine the stone for a ‘"ft -pot It was hard as Hint! Finding no choice, I began to drill carefully . Half an hour's labor result ed in a small hole about an inch in depth. The knife was a small one, like a poiuard in shape, and was wearing rapidly away. My hope heie was of short duration. An unlucky turn snapped the slender blade at its bill, and il fell ringing into a crevice as coin pletely beyond my reach as was the svvitt liberty 1 was struggling so hard to obtain. The only hope left me was was that my companions should find me before the las) spark of life was ex tinguished. How can ili v find me when 1 am eight or ten miles from the track they would naturally take to look for me? The first day wore away m vain at temnls; (ne li’-st night passed with but little distress. The second day brought me face to face with the grim, horrible pain of inanition. Each hour inereas j ed my misery to a greater degree: thirst ] began to add to its horrors to tho#e of starvation. That day and the fo) j lowing night wore their 'flow length away: the third morning dawned and crept slowly through its long,slow hours. Seventy-two hours without food or water. My stalwart frame was weaken ing under the terrible abstinence. Hope was waning as my body weakened, (beat heavens! would (bev eome too late? It was horrible for ;ne, oi the vigor of manhood, !•- tamely starve there. AA hat more could Ido? Did Providence I will that I should die thus! They must certainly hi looking for me. I took oft my leather jacket, spread it flat upon I the Moor, and poured the contents of my powder-flask niton il. < ’awfully j ! dividing it. I found that there were | eighty small charges. These 1 delei , mined to lire at regular intervals, hop ing that I might attract their attention | jhy the reports, By shooting every half | i hour during (he day, and once an hour, i during the night, 1 would he able to | keep these signals for two days longer i before my stuck was exhausted. If \ they tarry beyond that time, Hod have mercy on me! I placed my ritle close to a crevice and fired. The sound of a discharge reverberated through the mountain-tops. If they are within three or four miles of me, they will cer tainly hear that. During the fourth day I fired regu -1 larly, listening with feverish anxiety for ! some sound to mark their coming. My condition was now becoming appalling; my form wa,- emaciating, and an in tense thirst made my mouth and throat feel like a fiery furnace. The day passed, the night drew on. but -till they came not. Sleep was a stranger to my aching eyes, and in my wakeful min ings I was at bounteously I.'d< n tallies, drinking great draughts from limpid springs. I was bordering on insanity! The fifth day came, AAilb gn at difli colly 1 raised the rifle, now In avy in my wcakne-s, to give the last few sig nals. Hreat hlotehe*- began to cover mv limb- would completi iu-anitv follow? (if what followed i remember with only a slight shade of reason. On 'die sixth morning my last signal was tired, and in the last frenzy of despair I com menced to scream at the full extent of my weakened condition. .Several times 1 sunk prone down with exhaustion, but I would rally for a mighty exertion. How long I remained in this semi coma tose state was difficult for me to det* r- I mine; but I wa u aroused by several sharp reports of t itles, and the tierce howling of a dying bear. Hope Mir eeeded despair, and with strength amazing to myself. 1 put my cracked and bleeding lips to the crevice and screamed until my exhausted frame sunk unmindful ot the little life it eon Mined. My last etl'oil was not without avail, for my friends had heard my cries, and hastened to my aid but strange to say they bad not heard any of the many shots 1 had tired, and would not have found me had not the wounded and bleeding bear, which they had followed several miles by its bloody trail, led them directly to my prison. They removed the rock, and for many months carefully nursed me; but to this day the indelible results ot that terrible experience have not been eradi eated. THE V ABM. I ,-ia ii Inh>kmvtiov A little pow dered potash thrown into rat holes will drive them away Cayenne pepper will keep oft’ants and roaches. An im corked bottle of oil of pennyroyal will disperse mosquitoes. Equal parts uf boiled linseed oil and kerosene, well shaken together, make an excellent polish for furniture. Apply with a piece of sift tlanuel and rub with a clean li'ieiv. KtaaiiNo i'o\v* Cows in milk may be made greatly more profitable by feeding wheat middlings freely; il will pay to feed as high as four quarts of corn meal and three of w heat middlings to some cows producing butler, the butler is increased in quantity and im proved in quality and color. The kind of cow, however, is important, as some will fatten upon this feed, while other* will only increase in milk and cream C.vui ov SnvK Hood shelter for (he slock is absolute economy. With warmth there must be an ample supply of pure fresh air. The lime may come vvlieu we shall find coal cheaper (ban the extra food needed to sustain vital heal under extreme cold, and Use lire heat lor our animals. At present we must keep our stables as warm and dry as we can; but pure air. with severe cold and plenty of food, is preferable to warm, impure stables, with food saved. Kaumkus’ I’.vi'dis. There is a great difference between the farmers' papers of to-day, and twenty live years ago Then, science and “book farming'' was decried as tending only to useless ex pense in try ing false theoiies; and, in deed, so il did. so poor was the so called science of that lime. But now the sciences pertaining to ain ieultntv have become so systematized, and of sneb immediate practical benefit in their applications, that intelligent farmers everywhere are intensely eager to learn the teachings of science; they have be eome convinced that line " science is knowledge, scientific knowing just that and nothing less or more The first of agricultural journals to appre ciate tins want in its breadth was the SrinililU' Fm im r, of Boston, Mass.,vv bicb, as its name implies, is devoted to this branch of literature, and which the ed dors announce to be published “ in the interests of proOtable agriculture," certainly a kind of agriculture needing development. Judging from its record thus far. il fully lives up b> ds inten lions; and and Ice- recently donned a handsome cover, and begun I" illustrate the ti \t. Bm- I UISo Of AM'! Viz*. If 1-beep are staple in your breeding,give no place to an v but those which yield the heaviest lleeees and the gre i0 st amount of meal. If cattle, select those that will attain a maximum of weight in two instead of four years. If bugs, select a breed that will not only eal and be satisfied, but, win n they have converted corn into pork, will y ield a maximum number of pom ms for a maximum number of bush els. If the kind you are breeding will not do this, yon are wasting your sub stance. A lean, uneasy bog eats most; a scrubby, scrawny steer is never satis fied, and will never satisfy the owner; u *' plug" of a horse will keep a common man poor, and never be anything but a plug; poor sheep are expensive; in a word, poor stock of any kind is a bur den and evpen-e no man can afford to curry, and tin weeding out of these useless, expensive parasites cannot be too promptly accompli-bed. fewer and iietter is a good motto; don't wait until next year to begin tins eliminating process, but do it now. Save this win ter's feed by at once disposing of (lie tares of the thick. Fowl EI .HUSo in ( ’oi i> AV I.ATIIKU. At this season of the year, when your fowls are mostly confined within their houses or win n,at the best, they are not able to obtain much nourishment upon the open ground, if at liberty it must be borne in mind that they need an extra quantity of ordinary food, to keep them in gisid heart. And if the quality be improvi and a* well.during the sharp cold weather, il will be belter still. AVe counsel the distributing of good sound grain and corn at all times to domestic poultry, ii j tin- best method of feeding. But if, at any season they need this sort of provision, it is in the keenly cold weather of January and February; when it counts most towards their wel fare and thrift, la t your adult lotpk and the growing stock both be supplied M). '2l. ' then :vt tins season with till tin y will cal i ii(i clean, Iw ii fa day Unit is, at noon and evening of wlioli' wheal, cracked I’orii. mnl oats or barley. \ little Iniok wln-lit. aiul a little admixture of sun (lower seeds, are excellent also. The first meal in the morningl should he Ceil warm, of seaMeil eornmeal mixed with hoileil vegetables This, with the grain at noon ami at night. ami an oe easional leed of ground scraps ami green stntf. as cabbages ent up, or onions ami turnips chopped line, will, as a rule, keep your hints in first rate eomlilion. eontimionslv. .tia. I\>nlt iy liml, I'm t’oiv AM’ ilv.it Kooo, No animal more fully utilizes food than the eow A larger proportion of the food taken into the stomach is converted hy the physical economy of the cow into val ue, than is the ease with any other am mat. This value is repreaented hy the milk, hotter and cheese which are pro dncisl from the eow, and it is simply a natural result. Nature has made the eow for the production ol milk, which is drawn from the hlood, and it must necessarily follow that there must he in a health! eow a very rapid and com nlete conversion of food into hlood. The demands of this part of the hovme economy are in addition to the demands of the rest of the system, which are the same in all animal - In the eow and in the steer the hlood mu-l furnish the hone, muscle and every other part, of the general organization, hut in the eow it must furnish, in addition to this, the milk, and this increased demand upon the hlood makes a more complete eon sumption of the food certain. Nature always takes care of herself if she i-> permitlted to do so. If she has any thing to do, she will do it, and do it without waste, if not interfered with The food taken into the stomach of the eow is taken up hy nature and exhaust i'd in the endeav or to supply the general and snecial demands of the system. It is this principle that makes the drop pings of the steer so much mom valu able than those of the cow a fact Uni versallv recognized The steer him only llesh to draw from the hlood, in addi lion to the usual requirements of the system, and much ol the food is very reasonably unconverted. It is interest mg, however, to com pure the ulili/al ion of food hy the eow and the steer, hy way of observing the ditlervuee in the value of the products of the two. It has been frequently demonstrated that the same quantity of food given to a eow and a steer of equal weight, will result in greater profit in favor of the eow. The steer gains in flesh ; the eow gains nothing in llesh, hut her profits resulting from her feeding are entirely in the y ield of her milk, and in this she considerably exceeds the profits ol the steer. It will, therefore, he seen that the eow lisa food consumer Isa most profitable animal on the farm. What ever the farm has m the way of feed, can thus he ntili/.ed for all it is possibly worth. The pumpkins, mangolds, sugai beets, carrots, roots, are not only avail ahletis food, hut they are just so much stock in trade, the valuation of which is almost as certain as the eow herself There is very much of one thing and another lying about which could thus he made somewhat valuable, and which could he made valuable < lily in this i way. We are now writing to the farmei 1 who makes no pretense to dairying as a ! business, or as a science We wish 1 simply to show the average fanner that , his eow is.a mill to which he can lake ! any thing that contains the elements ol nourishment for a cow, and have il ground into a very profit able grist. II the largest and best results of feeding 1 are the ohji el, earn must necessarily he taken in the selection of (he food and | the care of the animal. It does not I make much dilfereiiee what the eow is ! fed upon, if it is snllieienl to keep hei in llesh. if flesh is produced, milk will he produced. Mnl the general farmer is not as anxious to achieve the best re suits in dairying as lie is to keep his stock to the best advantage upon what lie lias to feed it with; and this being true, lie requites to he reminded that in order to create a demand for the supply of food which lie may have, il is necessary that he keens his animal in as good a condition us kind treatment can produce. This creates an appetite, land appetite will satisfy itself on what ever may In offered, HVs/zm Uurnl. (Ink ok i'ii k: Two. In a wild purl oi Scotland n <l-itl r in li.tli imcd I<* drive lil<4 cart a considcrahlo way inland. On one occasion, when passing a wild moor where, althoip’li there did reside n schoolmaster, the knowledge of the inhabitants of allairs in jrein ml was not extensive, he dropped a 101-sler. Home children picked it up, and, wondering what the stranj.'e creature eotild he, took it to the schoolmaster, 'l'he dominie pul on his “ sparliclcs,” and. turning il over and over, examined it carefully. “ Weel,” at length raid the oraele, 11 I ken maist o’ the wonderfti' aniilialso’ creation, except jistlwa; arid and these Uva 1 never raw. They are an elephant and a turtle dove; and mo lilts muMl he one o’ the Iwa.” -*► • Mississippi lias no national trunks, Louisiana none outside of New Orleans and Florida only one.