Newspaper Page Text
66
Song for the Children.
Come, stand by my knee, little children,
Too weary for laughter or song ;
The sports of the daylight are over,
And evening ; s creeping along;
The snow-fields are white in the moonlight
The winds of the winter are chill,
But under the sheltering roof-tree
The fire shineth ruddy and still.
You sit by the fire, little children,
Your cheeks are ruddy and warm ;
But out in the cold of the winter
Is many a shivering form.
There are mothers that wander for shelter,
And babes that are pining for bread ;
0 ! thank the dear Lord, little children,
From whose tender hand you are fed.
Come look in my eyes, little children,
And tell me, through all the long day
Have you thought of the Father above us,
Who guarded from evil your way?
He heareth the cry of the sparrow,
And careth for great and for small:
In life and in death, little children,
His love is the truest of all.
Now go to your rest, little children,
And over your innocent sleep,
Unseen by your vision, the angels
Their watch thro’ the darkness shall keep.
Then pray that the Shepherd who guideth
The lambs that He loved so well,
May lead you in life’s rosy morning,
Beside the still waters to dwell.
•—•—
Written for Burke’s Weekly.
JACK DOBELL;
Or, A Boys Adventures in Texas.
A STORY FOR BOYS.
CHAPTER 111.
OFF TO GOLIAD—ARANSAS PASS-THE PIRATE,
LAFITTE BURIED TREASURE COPANO -
SCARCITY' OF BREAD—REFUGIO—SEARCH FOR
MILK-THE CARANCHUA INDIANS-DROVES
OF WILD HORSES-REACII GOLIAD AND COL.
FANNIN’S COMMAND.
PAY or so after our re
turn to Velasco, as men
cloned i n the last chapter,
lUI the officer in command of
JflQr the Invincible was order
ed to sail immediately for Copano,
on Aransas Bay, where our com
f-fci pany was to disembark and march
If with all haste for Goliad. It was
rumored that a considerable force
had already concentrated at that place,
under the command of Col. Fannin, des
tined for the invasion of the neiHiborinir
States of Mexico; and of course we con
cluded that our company would form a
portion of the expedition. W r e set sail
about sundown, an3 a brisk norther
springing up, by daylight the next morn
ing we were in sight of Aransas Pass,
which we shortly entered without diffi
culty, and cast anchor in a secure harbor
behind the south-west point of Matagorda
Island. This harbor used to be, in times
gone by, a favorite rendezvous of the
piratical vessels of the famous Lafitte.
On the island, the embankments around
his old camping grounds or fortifications
were still plainly visible, and along the
BXJRKE’S WEEKLY.
beach were many posts still standing,
with iron rings affixed to them, for se
curing the small boats that plied between
the piratical vessels and the shore. The
Pass at that time was known only to
Lafitte and his followers, and here in se
curity they used to repair their vessels,
supply them with wood and water —both
of which are abundant on the island —and
divide among themselves the spoils of
their piratical expeditious. On the east
ern end of Galveston Island they had a
similar place of rendezvous, just where
the city of Galveston is now situated, and
the remains of their fortifications there
were plainly visible not a great while
since. A few years ago some workmen,
whilst employed in excavating sand near
their old fortifications, dug up a consider
able amount of Spanish coin, buried there
no doubt by some pirate on the eve of
his departure upon a marauding expedi
tion, from which, in all probability, he
never returned.
Wo remained at the encampment on
the island several days, passing the time
very pleasantly in hunting and fishing
and gathering oysters, which were abun
dant in the bay ; and then, with our goods
and chattels, avc took passage in a small
schooner for Copano, near the head of
the bay, where in a few hours we safely
landed and pitched our tents upon the
beach. Here we found a company of
Rangers that had been in the service
more than six months, during all of which
time they had. never seen a morsel of
bread. They had been subsisting alone
on beef and such game as they could kill
on the prairies. We gave them a portion
of the hard bread we had brought with
us, which, although tasteless and worm
eaten, they devoured with as keen a rel
ish as if it had been the greatest dainty
in the world. Notwithstanding they had
had no bread for so long a time, they
were healthy, fat and sloek - looking
which convinces me that man is decided
ly a carnivorous animal, and will keep in
good condition upon meat alone.
From Copano we took up the line of
march for Refugio, distant about twenty
miles, and situated upon a little stream
called Mission River, on the banks of
which we pitched our camp, just as the
sun was sinking below the horizon.
Refugio comprised about two dozen
adobe huts, inhabited by a mixed popula
tion of Irish and Mexicans, and an old
dilapidated stone church or mission, built
by the Spaniards the same year that the
city of Philadelphia was founded. Re
fugio was a few months subsequent to
this the scene of a hard-fought battle be
tween thirty-five of our men under com
mand of Capt. King, and seven hundred
and fifty Mexican cavalry. The old
church, when 1 last saw it, a year or so
ago, where King and his men made their
last stand, gave evidence of the severity
of the conflict, in its battered walls, and
its roof everywhere perforated with grape
and canister shot.
Noticing a large number of fine-lookino
cattle in the vicinity of the place, I con
cluded I would go to the village and for
age for a little milk, of which I was ex
ceedingly fond. So, taking a clean camp
kettle in my hand, I proceeded to the
nearest house, and inquired of an Irish
woman standing at the door, if she had
any milk for sale ?
“Faith! and I have,” said she, “and
that of the very best.”
Whereupon she conducted me into a
little out-building in which there were
several pans full of milk upon a shelf, one
of which, after rolling up her sleeve, she
deliberately proceeded to skim with a
hand that was sadly in want of a little
soap and water. When she had comple
ted the work after this primitive method
of skimming milk, to her satisfaction, she
poured it into my camp kettle, at the
same time remarking,
“ There, my little fellow, there’s a can
of milk for you that would do to set be
fore the Pope of Room—may Heaven
protiet his holiness!”
I said nothing, but paid her what she
asked for the milk, and returned to camp
with it, where it was soon made way
with by my hungry messmates. Won
dering that I took coffee in preference to
such nice new milk, 1 informed them of
the skimming process I had witnessed,
but men in camp are not usually very
squeamish about such trifles, and they
continued their attacks upon the contents
of the kettle, merely observing that
“ what wouldn’t poison would fatten,”
and that as they had to eat their “ peck
ol dirt” anyhow, the sooner they got
through with the job the better.
The next morning we continued our
route towards Goliad, about thirty miles
distant, but as we started late, we only
made about twenty miles by sundown,
and pitched our tents under some spread
ing oaks near the margin of a large pool
of fresh w r ater. Here we found encamped
a band of the Caranchua tribe of Indians,
at that time professedly friendly to the
Texans. These Indians were said to bo
cannibals—that they invariably devoured
all the prisoners they chanced to take in
their conflicts with their enemies. They
were the largest men I ever saw', scarcely
one of them being less than six feet in
height, and many of them considerably