Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

122 * * * * * * THE MIDNIGHT CROSS. IN IDYLS. The Virginians of the Valley. To W. N. N. Kniehdiest of the Knightly 'xfc? race JjUJPJ That, since the days of old, fHave kept the lamp of chivalry Alight in hearts of gold 1 The Kindliest of the Kindly hand That rarely hated ease, Who rode with Raleigh round the land, And Smith around the seas. Who climbed the blue embattled hills Against uncounted foes, And planted there, in vallies fair, The Lily and the Rose. Whose fragrance lives in many lands — Whose beauty stars the earth, And lights the hearths of happy homes With loveliness and worth. We thought they slept!—the men who kept The names of noble sires— And slumbered, while the darkness crept Around their vigil fires 1 But, aye, the “golden Horse-Shoe” Knights Their Old Dominion keep, Whose foes have found enchanted ground, But not a Knight asleep 1 ■ *.%.« Written for Burke’s Weekly. THE YOUNG EXPLORERS; OR, 80Y-UFK IN TEXAS. BY JOHN C. DUVAL, Author of if fuck Dobell j or, A Boy's Ad ventures in Texas," “ The Adventures of Big-Foot Wallace," etc CHAPTER XIV. 'The Horses llecovcred —The Bee Tree — Hunt ing the Mexican Lion —Jerking Venison — The Fishing Party—Cudjo’s Mishap. - HE first thing in the morning, nc^e Seth sa d ( Med our * horses and started out to hunt up the runaways, leaving strict orders that no one should stir from camp until we returned. Taking the trail of one of the animals, we followed it for about half-a-mile, where, much to our satisfaction, we found the tracks of the other horses, showing evi dently that they had come together at that point; and a short distance be yond, we discovered them all quietly grazing in an open bottom near the creek. As their ropes were dragging, we secured them all without difficulty, and took our way back to camp, con gratulating ourselves upon our good luck in finding them so much sooner than we had anticipated. By the time we had reached camp, Cudjo had breakfast prepared for us, and as soon as we had despatched it, and re-staked all the animals, Uncle Seth, Mr. Pitt, Henry, Willie and Cudjo started off to cut the bee trees; whilst Lawrence and myself remained behind BURKE’S WEEKLY FOR BOYS AND GIRLS. to take care of camp and guard the horses. The bee trees were but a little way off, and in about hour the party re turned, bringing with them twenty-five or thirty pounds of beautiful white ho ney-comb, which they had taken from one tree. As this was as much as we could possibly eat during the time we expected to remain at our present camp, and as we had no means of car rying honey along with us, they con cluded to leave the other two for the next exploring party that might pass that way. Willie came back, leading Cudjo by the hand, who had been so terribly stung by the bees that both of his eyes were closed up hard and fast, and his mouth looked like a big Bologna saus age with a gash cut in it. “Why, how comes it, Cudjo,” said Lawrence, “that the bees stung you and didn’t sting anybody else? ” “I dunno, Mass Lawrence,” Cudjo replied, “but soon de tree chop down, ebery one of de bees take right arter me and chase me clean to de creek bottom ’fore dey cotch me; but dey did cotch me at last, and pop me in de mout and in bofe eyes, till dey swell up jess like you see ’em.” “Why didn’t you climb up a tree?” said Lawrence. “Oh! go way, Mass Lawrence,” said Cudjo, “you jess pokin’ fun at me now. I ’spec I’se nebber going to hear de last ’bout dat tree.” Willie gave him a pan of cold water and a towel, and after bathing his swollen phiz for some moments, one eye partially opened, and his lips sub sided to something like their usual di mensions. “ Now, boys,” said Uncle Seth, “ me and Mr. Dobell will go out to where he shot the Maxican lion, and see if we can track him up. Mr. Pitt will take command, and he musn’t let anybody leave camp till we git back.” Just as we were saddling our horses to start, we heard a great clucking of wild turkeys in the creek bottom oppo site to us, and presently five or six large gobblers came flopping into the trees right over our tent. Willie brought one of them down with his double-bar rel gun, and Mr. Pitt shot another, before they flew. “Purty well done, boys,” said Uncle Seth; “and I hope you’ll have ’em nicely cooked for dinner by the time me and Mr. Dobell come back.” Mounting our horses, we rode off, and in a little while came to the place where I had encountered the lion the evening before. Dismounting, we fas tened our horses securely to some trees in the vicinity, and then going to the spot where the lion had lain down after I had wounded him, we found that traces of his blood were still distinctly visible upon the dry leaves and twigs with which the ground was covered. Following these carefully, we at length came to a dense thicket in the bottom, into which the wounded animal had made his way, as we could plainly per ceive by the bushes and vines, which were broken and twisted where he had forced a passage through them. “Now,” said Uncle Seth, stopping a moment to recap his gun and pistols, “we must keep a good look-out, fur if the varmint was badly wounded, he didn’t go a great ways, and the chances are he’s somewhere in this thicket yet.” Proceeding cautiously along the trail, in a little while we came to where the lion had laid down for some time, as was evident from the great clots of coagulated blood that were scattered about the place. “You’\e gin him a hard hit, Mr. Dobell,” said Uncle Seth; “and I wouldn’t be surprised if he was as dead as a mackerel by this time.” And in fact we had gone but a short dis tance further, when Uncle Seth ex claimed, pointing to a number of tur key buzzards perched upon a tree : “Yonder’s your lion, Mr. Dobell. You’ll find him under that tree, as cer tain as shootin.” And sure enough, when we went up to the spot, there he lay as dead as a hammer. “ By jingo,” said Uncle Seth, walk ing around him, “he’s a ‘staver,’ cer tain ; but the tarnal wolves have been at him, and they’ve spilt his hide en tirely. Its a great pity, for it would have made a splendid robe for MasteiL Willie.” Uncle Seth said he was the largest Mexican lion he had ever seen, and he had killed a great many. But the wolves had torn his hide in a dozen places, and we concluded it was not worth taking. So after cutting off his tail to take along with us as a trophy of our success, we returned to the place where we had left our horses, and mounting them, rode back to camp. When we got there, we found the two gobblers spitted before the fire, and just done to a turn ; and such a dinner as we made upon roast turkey, honey, hot coffee and hard tack, “beat all natur,” as Uncle Seth would say. As some of our equipments needed repairing, particularly the rigging of the pack-mule, we determined to re main at our camp until the next day. Another reason was, that while Uncle Seth and I were hunting the lion, Mr. Pitt had killed a very fat buck, which had ventured up within gun-shot of camp, and we wanted to “jerk” a quantity of the venison to take along with us. We were almost totally ignorant of the character of the country ahead of us, and therefore concluded it would be most prudent to take an ample supply of meat along, for fear we might not at all times be able to procure game when we needed it. Uncle Seth told us that, frequently in his hunting and trapping expedi i tions, he had traversed extensive re- gions where no game could be found — not even a squirrel; and consequently it was always the safest plan for parties visiting unexplored countries to take as much provender along with them as they could well carry without overload ing their horses. Uncle Seth volunteered to repair the rigging for the pack-mule, and Mr. Pitt and Lawrence proffered their service? to jerk the venison. This is done by cutting the meat into thin slices, spread ing them upon a low scaffolding made of small poles laid an inch or two apart, and keeping up a slow fire under it for five or six hours, occasionally turning the slices so that every portion of the meat may be exposed to the action of the fire. Prepared in this way, it will keep for a long time, and though rather dry and tasteless, answers as a pretty good substitute for fresh, when seasoned with a hunter’s appetite. Willie was on guard, and as there was nothing for the rest of us to do, Henry, Cudjo and myself rigged up our fishing lines, and went off' to a deep pool about a hundred yards from camp to catch a mess offish for supper. On our way we captured two or three dozen grasshoppers, with which we baited our hooks, and as fast as we threw them in the water they were seized by the fish, with which the pool seemed to be liter ally swarming. In a few minutes we had a score of fine perch and bream tlj^ban^p sport hugely, with delight whenever he brought a fel low safely to the shore. “I ’clar to gracious, Mass Henry,” said he, “I nebber see fish bite so greedy before. Dar go my cork again ;” and giving a violent jerk, he snapped his pole in the middle. “There, now,” said Henry, “your fishing is spoilt for the day. ’ “No, he ain’t,” said Cudjo, pulling in his tackling; “I mity soon get an other pole.” And he hurried off towards the upper end of the pool, where there was a dense thicket of undergrowth, into which he quickly disappeared. What happened to him in this thicket will be told in the next chapter. - Largest Book-making City in the World, s ||gf - < WJMOR more than a century Leip sic has had the reputation of issuing more books than any other city in the world. It has 258 publishing firms, employing a personal staff of between 800 and 900 persons, and giving work to 47 printing establish ments, which employ 1000 journeymen, 300 apprentices, and 450 women. The branch houses connected with the pub lishing firms, out of Leipsie, number 3500. Berlin is said to stand next in order.