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If he did not arouse the unbounded, and almost delirious, devotion which none but Sir Edward Carson ever evoked in the North of Ireland, the deep respect and warm affection felt towards him by all who knew him, and by great numbers who did not, was a tribute which his modesty and integrity of character and genial friendliness of disposition richly deserved.
My wrists were so badly scorched that they had to be wrapped up in wool for a long time afterwards, but with the exception of a single burn upon her throat, little Stella Carson was not much hurt. This is all that I remember about the Christmas-tree at the Hall.
Men leading such lives as they, were accustomed to all kinds of surprises, but it may be doubted whether the trappers were more amazed in all their existence than when five hundred Indian warriors made their appearance and with signs of friendship overran the camp before they could be prevented or checked. The hunters did not know what to make of the proceeding, and looked to Carson for advice.
Each stone, shrub, each dark frowning cliff reminded them of their meeting, and silently, with their hearts full, they walked along until a dilapidated box car hove into view, with one oil-lamp still burning, twinkling evidence that Carson had not retired for the night; and as they came abreast the door they found him dozing.
Carson reported as he rode up. "They've cut off our water supply," he called to Dave and the engineer. "They've made a board and mud dam right across the river, and turned the water onto their own land. They're making irrigating ditches now as fast as they can work." "I suspected as much," Mr. Bellmore said, "Is the dam a very big or strong one?" "Not especially so.
A Frenchman, called in the mountains Pete, who spoke English fluently and who was with Carson during these trying scenes, informed the writer, on one occasion, that he never fully knew or appreciated Kit Carson until this occurrence. "Why," said he in his enthusiasm, "Kit knew just what was to be done and did it too.
But to a woman of Mary Greenwater's determined character, these things were obstacles only for the time being. Her heart was bad and her love of revenge strong. When Carson left the cabin he followed the winding trail that led to the valley below. The road to Saguache showed the hoofprints of a prospector's outfit, and the marks of a sleigh leading to Del Norte.
"I'm glad to say that we were the only ones who went down with the bridge," Max hastened to tell her, knowing that she had loved ones in Carson, about whose safety she must naturally feel anxious.
Bud dismounted, dropped his horse's reins, shifted the revolver from his shirt to his belt where it was at once unhidden and loosely held, ready for a quick draw. Then he went up the three steps, Carson at his heels, his gun also unhidden and ready. From within came voices, one in protest, Bayne Trevors's ringing out, filled with mastery followed by a laugh. Lee set his hand to the door.
"And, if you find the man?" asked Rose. "If we do, and he needs help, we'll see that he gets it; I think if we do find him we'll learn more about Mr. Carson Blowitz than we know now." "Shall I tell my father?" asked Nellie, as the boys were preparing to make the return trip.
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