Lost Lenore: The Adventures of a Rolling StoneReid, Mayne
General
Lost Lenore: The Adventures of a Rolling Stone
Reid, Mayne
Adventure stories; Dime novels; Fiction
Sonora was about thirteen miles distant from the Tuolumne diggings. It
would be a pleasant morning walk; and I determined to go afoot. The
exercise would only give me an appetite--so that I should enjoy my
breakfast after reaching the Stanislaus. I could take plenty of time on
the way, and still be there by nine o'clock--two hours sooner Stormy
expected me.
I started along the road--meditating as I walked onward, what course I
should pursue, supposing the murderer should turn out to be Leary, and
supposing the murdered woman to be my mother!
Mr Leary was the husband of my mother. He was my stepfather. Should I
allow him to be hung?
Such thoughts coursed rapidly through my mind, as I proceeded along the
solitary path. I could not check them, by the reflection that, after
all, the man might _not_ be Mr Leary. Why I had thought of him at all,
was because I could think of no other man that Stormy and I had both
known before--at least, none who was likely to have committed a murder.
But my correspondent might still be mistaken; and the condemned criminal
be a stranger to both of us?
When I had walked about a mile along the main road to Sonora I left it--
knowing that I could make a shorter cut by a path, leading over the
ridge that separates the valleys of the Stanislaus and Tuolumne.
I had got, as I supposed, about half-way to Sonora; and was passing near
a chapperal thicket, when a large grizzly bear rushed out of the bushes,
and advanced straight towards me.
Fortunately a large live oak tree was growing near, with limbs that
extended horizontally. I had just time to climb up among the branches.
A second more, and I should have been grasped by the claws of the
grizzly. Unlike his congener the brown bear, the _grizzly_ cannot climb
a tree, and knowing this I fancied myself safe.
Taking a seat on one of the limbs of the live oak, I proceeded to
contemplate the interesting position in which I was placed. The bear
had a brace of cubs playing in the chapperal near by. I could hear them
sniffing and growling; and soon after got sight of them, engaged in
their uncouth, bearish frolics. It would have been pleasant enough to
watch these creatures; but the prospect of how I was to regain my
liberty soon became the sole subject of my thoughts--by no means a
pleasant one.
I saw that, the bear was not inclined to leave the tree, while her
interesting family was so near. That seemed certain. The chance of any
person passing, near that lonely place, was one against a hundred. The
path was very little used, and only by an occasional pedestrian like
myself.
To ensure the safety of her offspring, the bear might keep me up that
tree until her cubs had arrived at the age of discretion, and be able to
take care of themselves. Under the circumstances, I could not subsist
so long.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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