[Dan De Quille, Moosic, Alta California, August 17, 1877]

 

"MOOSIC!"

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BY DAN DE QUILLE.

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From the Virginia Enterprise.

            Until of late no better or more industrious drinker could be found in all Silverland than was old Owen Gibbs. He was always ready to "stand in" with the first when a drink was proposed and was the last to leave a party where song, story and glass were passing round. He would drink as long as he could keep his legs and talk as long as he could open his mouth to drink.

            Owen came early to the Pacific Coast, and most of the years of his life have been spent in the mountains and among the mines. He wears the garb of a miner and has no thought of ever living in a land or country that does not produce gold or silver.  Though his face is now wrinkled and his hair grizzled, all his hopes still centre in mines. "Once a miner, always a miner," is, in his case, a saying most true.

OLD OWEN'S HOME

Is a little cabin near the suburbs of the town of Sutro where he has a mining claim. He has been watching this claim for years, waiting for the Sutro tunnel to pass through it. He is confident that the tunnel has now tapped his lode and developed one equal in richness to anything found on the Comstock.  He is also quite sure that the ore thus discovered has been stowed away out of sight by the tunnel folks, and says no one will know of the "find" until the head men of the company are ready to let the public into the secret of their discoveries.  The he will be ready to step forward and claim his own.

            Being thus confident that his fortune is made, Owen Gibbs takes the world easy.  Provided there is flour in the sack, bacon on the shelf, and a little tea, coffee and sugar in certain old fruit and oyster cans, Owen is at peace with himself and all the world.

            Formerly old Owen would not have been content unless there was a big-bellied black bottle that he could draw from a secret nook when he felt inclined, but now his notions in that respect have undergone a great change.  Much to the astonishment of all his old "49-er" friends he cannot at present be induced to take a drop of liquor of any kind — the mildest beverage equally with the strongest being pushed aside and sternly refused.

            Hitherto Owen has been very reticent in regard to what induced him to so suddenly change his course in the matter of indulgence in drink.  He has shown a disposition to evade all questions put with a view to the solution of the mystery.  However, I have been fortunate enough to obtain his story from his own lips.  I happened upon him when he was in the right mood to tell it.

OLD OWEN'S STORY :

            It was in a saloon ; where a number of men were drinking at the bar. Gibbs came in and was asked to join them. He quietly but firmly refused.  Seating himself near the table I was occupying, he said :

            "I'm done with all that business, I hope, and forever !  You look surprised, but it so.  I, for one, have had enough of it."

            "How long since you formed this resolution ?" I asked.

            "About three weeks ago."

            "What decided you to give up a habit of so many years standing ?"

            "Let us take seats in one of the rear rooms and I will tell you a very strange story. I have hitherto kept it to myself, but, as I should like your opinion of the curious business, I will tell you all about it."

            "I am most anxious to hear what you have to relate," was my answer.

            "Well, it was, say about three weeks ago, that I came up to Virginia on a little matter of business ; to 'celebrate' my forty- ninth birthday, in fact. I continued the celebration four or five days. Then I got a quart bottle filled with whiskey and started home."

            "A quart !"

            "I considered that I could not 'taper off' on less than a quart."

            "I see."

            "It was about eleven o'clock at night when I started home — you know it was my habit to leave town whenever the notion took me, whatever hour of the day or night it might be — but the moon was full, was almost overhead and it was nearly as light as day. It was a lovely night ! Once, on the head-waters of the Tuolumne, on just such a night —"

            Hold, there !" said I ; "give me the California story another time."

            "It was not much of a story — let it pass. Well, when I left Virginia, I took the near cut by the way of the County Hospital, a short distance beyond which I struck into the main wagon road leading to Sutro.

            "But I must tell you a curious thing that occurred before I came to the Sutro road. Just as I came into the deep ravine this side of the hospital, a large, black dog met me in the trail. He was an immense fellow, and to my horror, I saw that he had in his mouth the leg of a human being — a leg amputated about midway between the knee and the hip joint. The beast halted, looked at me a moment with glaring eyes, then turned and trotted down the ravine, with the leg swaying up and down in his jaws.

            "The ghoulish brute has dug that up somewhere on the hill above the hospital, thought I, and, shuddering at the idea of such a feast, I hurried on.

            "Near the top of the first hill beyond the hospital, I sat down on a rock to rest.  I took a pull at my bottle — the first after leaving town — in order to take the taste of that black dog's feast out of my mouth, and was just replacing the cork, meditatively like, when I heard the sound of what seemed distant music.  I thought it might be a bagpipe back in town, and so started on up the hill.

            "Presently the sound of music became more distinct.  It now seemed to be the shrill and peculiar squeaking of a Chinese fiddle, and, borne to my ears by the breeze, it began to appear quick near and to be somewhere before me.  I trudged on, wondering at hearing such music in that place ; I couldn't understand it."

            "It was strange."

            "Wasn't it ?"

            "Well just at the top of the hill I came upon

A LONE CHINAMAN,

Seated on a rock by the roadside, sawing away on one of their curious-looking fiddles. When I came up to him I stopped and said : "'Hello, John ! what are you doing here ?'"

            "'Me play fiddle-ee,' said John.

            "'It's a strange place and time for fiddling, John.  Do you know it's near midnight ?' said I.

            "'Me plenty sabe midnight-ee.  You likee hear moosic ?'

            "'Yes, John ; some kinds.'

            "'Belly good.  You like-ee moosic, you come me.'

            "'Where to, John ?  Where do we go ?'

            "'No go much away.  You like-ee hear moosic, you come me.'

            "I hesitated, thinking a trap had been set to get me off the road and rob me.

            "'What for you flaid ?  You think me one lobber man ?  You one big fool-ee.  You no got one two bit-ee.'

            "John was right.  I was dead broke.  Curious to see the end of the affair, I said, "All right, John, go ahead ; I'll follow.'

            "The Chinaman still sat on the stone, occasionally picking a few notes on the strings of his fiddle.  He wore the usual Chinaman shoes, baggy-seated, wide-legged cotton trousers, blue cotton blouse and one of those great umbrella-shaped hats seen on the heads of the common laborers among his race.

            "The great hat completely hid the fellow's face, and cast a shadow over all the upper part of his body.  I did not much like his looks, nor the way in which he seemed to be trying to keep his face hidden in the shadow of his big hat, but I said :

            "'Well, John, get up and travel.'

            "'Me smell blandy.  You got um blandy ?  Me like-ee dink.'

            "'I have no brandy, John, but I've got some mighty good whiskey.'

            "'Blandy, whiskey, bad all same ; me dink all same.'

            "I produced my bottle, uncorked it, and thrust it under the great hat.  John took a very long pull, as it seemed to me ; so without much ceremony I reached under the hat brim and snatched my bottle from between his very teeth, as I knew by the sound.

            "'Now, you dlink,' said the Chinaman.

            "I drank.

            "'Now come me, hear moosic.'

            "John arose and, leaving the road struck off down the northern slope of the hill through the sagebrush, occasionally twanging his fiddle as he went.

            "Presently we came in sight of

THE CHINESE GRAVEYARD,

Which, as you know, is but a short distance from the top of the hill.

            "Exactly, and in plain view of the city," said I "and not very far from the place where you found the Chinaman sitting."

            "Well," said Owen, "the Chinaman headed directly for the graveyard.  I came to a halt and said, 'John, where are you going ?'

            "'No be flaid !  No be fool !  Come on, me catchee you plenty moosic.'

            "I then thought of the curious ceremonies that the Mongolians perform at the graves of their dead friends ; of their placing food on the graves when they bury them and at certain seasons ever after ; of the lighted candles stuck in the mounds covering the departed ; of the colored paper strewn on the ground, and determined to follow me fellow and see what he was up to so late at night.

            "When we were in the midst of the burying ground he seated himself on a stone and, with his fiddle bow, motioned me to a large rock a few feet distant.

            "The graves are all out of doors, as it were, few being fenced in.  John tuned up and began fiddling, while I sat on my rock and gazed about on the hillocks covering the dead 'Celestials,' wondering how many were planted there altogether.  It was dry work, so I clipped my bottle out of my pocket and took a good big pull at it, while pretending to look in the opposite direction from my Chinaman.

             "The business was fast becoming monotonous — I saw no fun in it — so I said :  'You play all the time the same old tune, John.  Can't you play something else ?'

            "The fellow made no reply, but pointed with his fiddlestick to a grave some two yards away, then went on with his sing-song tune. I looked at the grave pointed out and observed some object rising from the little mound above it. It was a skull, and, as it rose through the ground, it turned to and fro, as an owl moves its head,

THE EYELESS SOCKETS STARING UP AT ME.

            "I gazed upon the horrible object, as though bewitched. Then another skull peeped up almost at my feet and turned its black eye sockets up at me ; another and another followed in quick succession, and began peering around, until skulls were seen in all directions.

            "Half a dozen startling rakes on the fiddle caused me to turn my head toward my Chinaman. As I did so, hat, blouse, trowsers and shoes disappeared, melted away, as it were, and before me on the rock sat a grinning skeleton.  The fiddle was still there and the bow was fairly dancing over its strings, producing the wildest and most discordant sounds as it appeared to me — that ever smote upon mortal ear.

            "The head of the hideous object turned toward me, the jaws opened and gurgled forth : 'Moosic. New tune !'

            "I was about to arise and flee from the terrible scene, when several short, sharp twangs were jerked out by the fiddler, whose skeleton arms and fingers flew, as if made of steel and driven by steam, when in a single instant full and perfect skeletons rose and sat on the graves where before had been nothing but skulls.

            "Again I was about to run away, when several sharp rolling taps on a kettle-drum caused me to turn my head and

I SAW A TALL SKELETON STALKING DIRECTLY TOWARD ME,

            "His fingers — or rather the bones of what had once been fingers — handling the drumsticks with the rapidity of lightning and all the earnest vim of a demon.

            "I tried to rise, but my limbs seemed benumbed and refused to obey my will, while my eyes were fixed, as by some terrible fascination or spell, upon the advancing drummer.  On he stalked and, without turning toward me, squatted beside the fiddler.

            "I began to feel faint with terror. Cold sweat oozed from every pore and stood in great beads on my forehead.  I tried to think it all a frightful dream, but there the two hideous musicians, dinning their awful notes into my ears, and on every side were ghastly, grinning skeletons. I took a great gulp from my bottle, hoping the liquor would give me strength to leave the spot, but its only effect seemed to be that it chained me more firmly than before to my rock. 

            "Music suddenly ceased, a great gong struck somewhere — apparently under the ground — when the skeletons arose and stood on their graves, or began to stride about. I then, for the first time, observed that they seemed to come up out of the ground in the same condition as that in which they had laid below its surface.

            "Tails dangled from the heads of some, while the skulls of others shone in the moonlight, as bare as an egg.  Some — the greater part — were mere bare skeletons ; others had on a rag or two of grave clothes ; a few wore shirts nearly whole, and one — only that day buried — came up an undecayed corpse in full dress.

            "About this one's grave had been placed a great store of food of all kinds. As soon as he was out he took up a bottle of brandy that had been left at the head of his grave, held it up toward the moon and, uttering a few satisfied grunts in Chinese, sat down on his mound. Raising the bottle to his mouth, he nodded to me.  I nodded in return, not knowing what else to do.

            "The drum tapped wickedly. The drummer turned toward me and opening his ghastly jaws said : 'Dlink !'  Thus instructed, I uncorked my bottle, nodded to the late arrival, and drank.

            "The fiddle and drum again struck up. The fresh corpse began to eat the roast pork and other food left for his use. He seemed enjoy the viands. Occasionally he took up his bottle, and nodding familiarly toward me, took a good big pull at it. I knew what was expected of me and drank as often as did the fresh one.

            "A lot all kinds, bare skeletons, and half-decayed men and women, collected in the centre of the graveyard, engaged in playing at the popular Chinese game called 'tan,' with quite a lively chinking of coin, but the all seemed hungry, and ever and anon turned their eyes to where the newcomer was feasting.

            "Finally they began to leave the game by ones and twos,"' and steal toward where the fresh corpse was enjoying himself. The smell of the pork, or of the brandy, attracted even those that were in the remotest parts of the cemetery. 

            "Some erect, some stooping nearly to the ground and others on all fours, the repulsive crowd encircled and closed in upon the one newly dead.  Slowly the ghastly circle narrowed. Both hands and arms began to reach out toward the coveted viands.  The stranger corpse arose, pulled up the strip of board that marked the head of his grave and assumed a threatening attitude.

            "I thought this time to steal away.  Both drummer and fiddler had ceased to play and were intently watching the initiation of the new arrival. I was just stretching forth my legs to arise when a stifling stench, as that arising from a corpse, but much more overwhelming, suddenly filled and thickened the air, then

A DARK SHADOW FELL ON THE GROUND,

As though a dense cloud were passing over the face of the moon.  Turning to the southward, I beheld a most fearful object hovering high in the air. It was the fleshless bones of a monster being, with wings like those of a bat. It had an immense spread of

wings and seemed to hang almost motionless in the air, only moving its great skull from side to side, as though peering down upon the ground. Through its ribs and vertebrae I could the moon, as through the bars of a gridiron. The arms — mere bones —hung toward the earth, and the claw-like hands were fully two yards in length.

            "Suddenly, with the swoop of a hawk, this giant goblin was over the graveyard, and dropped upon his feet in the midst of the tombs, his dusky wings folding about his ribs as he alighted. The creature, which bore the appearance of the skeleton of a man, was not less than sixty feet in hight, with skull and limbs proportionately large.

AWFUL SHRIEKS FROM THE BODIES OF THE DEAD AROSE ON EVERY SIDE

As this awful apparition silently settled, like a great crane, in their midst. They ran, rolled and tumbled to and into their graves, their bones clattering like castanets.

            "The drummer and fiddler darted away with the rest, but both tried to get into one grave. They clawed one another like two lobsters, and sharp strokes from fiddle and drum fell on naked skulls.

            "Quick as a flash the huge right hand of the mighty inhabitant of Hades came down and clutched in its bony fingers the two struggling musicians. The broad wings expanded and the infernal shade rose high in the air.

            "As the unfortunate pair were being borne away their instruments fell toward the ground, but had only descended a short distance before two small winged creatures detached themselves from somewhere about their great master and, darting down like fish-hawks, caught the  drum and sticks, and other the fiddle and bow.

            "As their chief sped away to the eastward on easy wing, the imps followed after — two small dots behind the great shadow — one sounding the drum and the other rasping the fiddle, the sounds of the instruments gradually growing fainter and fainter till they finally died out, and soon all that, was seen was what seemed a small black cloud fast disappearing over the Forty-Mile Desert.

            "All about, the tombs lay quietly before me in the moonlight. With a long-drawn sigh of relief, I arose to depart from the spot where I had seen and heard so many fearful things when just before me there noiselessly swung down, at the end of a chain of some glittering metal, from some unseen height, a gong many feet in diameter, which vibrated for a time like a pendulum.

            "This great gong was no sooner at rest than a mighty sledge hammer, swung by some invisible power, struck it full in the centre, producing a crash like a peel of the loudest thunder. The deafening roar reverberated among the mountains and was echoed from peak to peak, rumbling down Six-Mile cañon and dying away far down the valley of the Carson, toward old Fort Churchill.

            "As the sound of the stroke thus ceased, groans came up from the ground on all sides. The earth became transparent as glass, and I saw the late revelers as they lay shuddering and squirming at the bottom of their graves.

            "Again the sledge fell, and with the clang of the gong the earth became opaque, but as it ceased the groans arose as before, the dead were to be seen writhing in their graves, and thus until three blows had been struck. With the third stroke the gong instantly disappeared, apparently upward, carrying with it a commingling of groans and its own thunder.

            "The great hammer, however, remained and rose above my head as if wielded by giant arms, though naught but the hammer was visible.

            "A terrible voice then said : 'Two are gone — two are lost ! Vile, besotted wretch, thou art to blame in this. Thou shalt die !'

I SAW THE GIANT SLEDGE DESCENDING,

And to avert the impending blow mechanically raised and interposed the bottle, which I happened to be holding in my right hand. It was shivered into a hundred pieces, several of which struck me in the face and I remember no more, as the huge hammer seemed to crash through my skull.

            "When I came to my senses I found myself in bed, in my own cabin where my friends told me they had found me two days before, in a high fever and delirious, with my face badly cut, raving about skeletons, gongs, goblins, Chinamen and giants.

            "As soon as I was able to travel — which was not for three or four days — I took the road toward Virginia. At the top of the hill above the hospital I found and readily recognized the stone on which I had seen seated the Chinese fiddler.

            "I looked for tracks and found those of one man.  They led away from the spot and were made by American boots. Looking closely into the tracks of the boots I saw imprinted in the soil the initials 'O. G.,' which you see here in nail heads in the soles of my boots.

            "Of course a ghost could make no tracks, therefore I looked no longer for the tracks of Chinese ghosts, but followed my own. They led me directly to the graveyard and to a rock, about which was a number of tracks, all made by my own boots. Near the rock I found pieces of my bottle. The rock, however, did not appear to be the one on which I sat that dreadful night, It was much too small. My rock must have been tons and tons in weight ; this would weigh less than one ton. Looking more closely I finally became convinced that it was the identical rock on which I had been seated, but saw by the mark of a crushing blow that had fallen upon it, it had been driven into the earth to such a depth that but a small part remained above the surface.

            "The great sledge had merely grazed my head, but had fallen with full force upon the rock on which I had been seated.

            "Here, to my mind, was positive proof that the scenes I had witnessed on that eventful night were real.

            "I saw no tracks leading away from the spot, and am therefore satisfied that I was removed to my cabin by some supernatural agency.

            "Going to the fresh grave of the deceased 'party,' with whom I had hob-nobbed, I found his brandy bottle lying on the ground near the head of the mound and beside it lay the strip of board that had served to mark the tomb. I picked up the bottle ; there was still a small quantity of liquor in it ; this I was raising to my lips when a low, fierce growl caused me to face about. Before me, in the full light and dazzle of the noonday sun, on the grave of the owner of the bottle, stood the great, black dog, glaring up at me with the human leg still in his mouth. I struck at him with the bottle, when he, leg and all, sank into the grave on which he stood and disappeared from my sight.

            "Now you know why I no longer drink. Am I not right in putting the bottle from my sight ?"