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[For The Sunny South.J
SAVANNAH.
BY MBS. MARY WARE.
Oh. mournful, hiighted city !
Oh, lonely hearts and homes !
With souls attuned to pity.
Each neighboring city mourns.
Each hamlet and each village
Sends up a feeble plea
That God, in his sweet mercy.
May turn the scourge from"thee.
Ah ! long the dark-winged angel
Has fondly hovered there.
Gently untwiniDg heart-strings
From the dearest idols here.
lie's hushed the gleeful music
Of childhood's joyous mirth,
And quenched the light that gladdened
Those happy homes of earth.
And the sound of heart-strings breaking
The mourner’s muffled tread—
The wail of soul’s departing,
Is all that's heard instead-
Oh. stricken, sorrowing city 1
Build high your altar fires ;
’TiB meet that holy incense
Hise irom the home of Myrs.
Columbiana, Ala., Oct. 25, 1876.
IFor The Sunny South.]
The Outlaw Lancers;
OR,
IN AT THE DEATH.
A TALK OF “ (iVJ.CIl FIVER ”
AND THE PLAINS.
BY WH. It. EYSTEB,
Author of "Cedar Swamp,” "Lout” “Through Water
and Fire” "The Haunted Hunter,” “King Dick”
"Free Trapper's Pass,” "Hranded and
Mad” “Iantheetc., etc.
Seeing that the stroke had been most effectual
he left the body, and advancing some little dis
tance further without finding Indian signs he
turned, intending to take a little circle and re
turn to the animals. It did not seem advisable
to venture very far from them in the darkness.
Again he came upon a dead Indian. Blaze
had taken everything as he went. Priestly was
: actually awed at the evidences of the woodcraft
of the scout, at the silent death which had
struck so noiselessly two human beings within
so short a distance of where he was intently
watching.
He came back to the animals. The mule was
standing apparently lost in thought, with its
: ears falling in graceful festoons around its head.
: Truly it was a remarkable animal.
Priestly went up to the mule.
“ Good-bye,” he said. “ You are worth your
j weight in gold,” and he attempted to pat its
head.
I Lemuel did not take kindly to the proffered
j endearment. He turned his head away, and in
the turning seemed to scent something, since
his ears once more gave a signal of warning—
i this time, from a totally different direction.
Priestly had seen enough of the animal to
make him very respectful of his powers of per-
] ception. Without hesitation he dropped to his
j knees and began to crawl towards the spot indi- 1
J cated. In his belt he carried a revolver, whilst
| his right hand grasped a knife that was keen and
heavy enough for business. His practice in this
kind of business had not been great, so his pro
gress was slow and full of labor.
At length, after a moment of silent listening, 1
he bent still lower and drew himself along the '
ground. As he turned a tree that stood directly j
in his path, his head suddenly came in contact
with some hard, round substance, and he was j
driven back a foot or two. The next moment |
an Indian brave sprang upwards and alighted
upon him in grim silence.
danger from which but a few hours before, he
had so gladly made his escape.
The Indians had several hours the start, and
i were evidently traveling rapidly. For hours
the two white men followed the trail in a light
which could render it visible to only such eyes
as belonged to the trapper. Their animals had
had a few hours rest, and a royal feast in the
fresh grass, but they had been ridden for the
previous day, and their night’s journey was a
strain that told on their strength. As hour af
ter hour passed, they began to show it in their
lagging steps.
‘‘ It is time that we slacked down pace some.
My horse is tiring fast, and unless we obtain a
little rest, there will not be much speed left in
him by morning.”
“That’s so; and onless a man saves an extra
wrinkle or so, he’d better steer clar o’ red-skins.
I’m good fur a moderate tribe, ye know; but
wheu the hull red-skin pedentry rises to onct,
an’ comes down lickety split, I occashionally
haz biz in another direeshun. Ease up a little.
They can't be fur ahead, an’ I must take an ab-
squint o’ the lay o’ the land.”
The stream on the banks of which Priestly
knew that Captain Ronald’s camp was located,
lay to the left a mile or two. Down to it ran a
small branch, flecked along its banks with little
clumps of box-elders. Notwithstanding the j
course of the Cheyennes lay straight on, Blaze j
turned down this branch for a short distance,
and then struck across the prairie for Gulch i
River.
Long before this, the two had compared notes, j
The Lieutenant had confided to Blaze that he
the hasty mounting, Allan Bayne was quite lost
sight of, and without a word of confidence or
When the latter came flying out upon the
open ground he gave one long searching look
direction, his son swept away, leaving him to that changed to a gaze of surprise and perplex-
his own devices.
He rode forward a little and found himself
within the limits of the camp proper. His eyes
wandered listlessly over the rude, temporary
shelters used by the men until they rested upon
the hut which had been occupied by Ellen and
Marian.
Towards this he went with an air of curiosity
and stooping in his saddle looked in at the now
open door.
Some articles of clothing, some little extra
finery which, even in this strange, rough life,
Ellen could not, despite of her scared heart, be
totally without, riveted his attention. They
acted upon his mind like a powerful stimulant.
He struck his forehead sharply with the palm of
his open hand and after a moment’s thought
turned away, riding sharply after the body of
outlaws^whose retreating steps could still be
faintly heard in the distance.
Riding at a hard gallop his horse recalled him
tty.
His men were in full retreat; between them
and himself were the yelling savages, whilst
with a shiver of alarm he saw to the left the
silent ranks of the outlaw lancers, drawn up in
grim precision.
Which wav was he to direct his course?
From the rear of the outlaws then came a
great shout and suddenly a single man, differ
ently accoutered from the rest, dashed away
directly towards him. A moment later the out-
| law chief himself came also thundering on. It
took no second glance to recognize that tall,
gaunt but powerful form. It was the mad
i Texan, Allan Bayne, and became as an avenger.
' A panic struck Moulden at the sight. The
: clutch of those iron hands that lately grasped
his shoulders seemed to be clutching now at his
throat and he turned his horse and raced down
| towards the river like a tornado, following a
second and nearer road of descent. He felt that
to external things by a sudden though slight he would rather cut his way through a hundred
swerve, and looking up he found himself con- Cheyennes than risk his chances with Allan
fronted by his daughter. She came suddenly ; Bayne, who seemed backed by the outlaw.
His appearance was noticed by the savages.
Two scores at least of the rearmost ones fell
“ Ah ! girl,” he exclaimed, reining in his | off to the light, not so much to intercept him as
horse, where have you lingered, what means all ! to drive him down to the ready weapons of the
this going and coming? Why did I find that j main body. Then there was a farther separa-
vile hound here? It cannot be that you are base [ iion; fully half of the number obliqued still
out of the deep shadows and was walking
towards him, directly in his path.
as well as betrayed.
She would have played upon his known shat
tered condition and tried to turn aside his ques-
was bent upon the rescue of a female captive of ; tions or parry their directness.”
CHAPTER XVI.
We left Bill Blaze promising to Lieutenant
Priestly lots of fun. Fun is rather a relative
matter; and perhaps the idea of Bill Blaze as to
what constituted it, differed from that of the
most of people. But fun or no fun, his friend
was perfectly willing to lay low, and then, if by
any chance fun might come along, he was wil
ling to take his share of it. The most attentive
ear could distinguish no sound of pursuit. Un
broken eilence seemed to be brooding over one
vast solitude. Only the column of smoke that
went up from the bluff, and an answering col
umn miles away in the direction from whence
Lieutenant Priestly had that day come told the
two watchers, who had taken to the timber, that
they were not alone.
As it grew darker Blaze began to show signs of
nervousness. He inspected his rifle several
times, took a circuit around the spot which
might be called their camp, and handled his
gun with an instinctive eagerness that showed
him to be full of thought. So, on inquiry of
the Lieutenant whether he anticipated any dan
ger, and whether it would not be best for them
both to be taking advantage of the cover of the
night to make off, he answered shortly, even
snappishly: .
“Do jist as yer please. I’m hyar observin’
them red cusses, and in course I'll stay. My
idea’s plum that yer fust dooty is to git them
papers ef ye have to crawl right over a dozen
reds a doin’ it. Are ye willin’ to try it?”
“ Not any for me. Why do you put so much
stress on them? If I can’t get them, I can’t. It
is not expected that I will throw my life away
in any such foolhardy attempt as the one you
propose. You have done your duty, and I will
be responsible for the performance of mine.
I have just finished a delicate and dangerous
task.” .
“ Wall, orders is orders, an’ I’ve done mine to
be sure. If I hadn’t met yer hyar I wouldn’t
keared. But fact is, I’m half a dozen hours
ahint time, an’ it riles me. Ef you ain’t on the
go jist keep camp and watch my mule while I
prospect. ”
“1 don’t think your mule has any notion of
running away, and if you thiDk there is any
danger of it I would advise you not to part com
pany from it.”
“Run away? oh, thunder! ’tain’t that. It’s
her years.”
“Her years?”
“Don’t come yer high-toned on an ole big-
medicine as kin read the perairies an’ timber a
sight better ner he kin a book. I’m talkin’ fer
yer own benefit now. It’s her years I want yer
to watch. When yer see ’em cock up so, watch
the pint o’ the compass they lean towards, an’
act accordin’ to the simptoms.”
Blaze made a ridiculous motion with his
hands, but the other understood him.
“It is her ears that you mean, is it?”
“In course; that’s what they call ’em—the
skyintific men—though ’tain’t much difference.
You’ve seed that a cow’s horn gits a fresh ring
round it every year? Wall, my mule’s years
does the same, or purtv nigh to likewise. They
grows a foot every year. Watch ’em then, an’
ef yer hear a howl among the heathen an’ a yell
from me, an’ think it purty nigh a sure thing
they’re saltin’ me down, jist turn that mule
loose an’ cut dirt yerself. Lemuel an’ Henry
Thomas Blaze kin find the way back alone.”
With this parting advice, and resisting any
and all attempts to stop him. Blaze cautiously
but rapidly left the spot. The young officer
was alone, and had a splendid opportunity to
contemplate that sagacious quadruped—Bill
Blaze’s mule. Once more examining his weapons,
Priestly threw himself down upon the ground
to await the return of his companion. It was a
favorable time to meditate, and Priestly had
much on his mind. So far he had said nothing
to the scout in regard to the outlaws from whom
he had just escaped, or of Marian Dorn, the
captive, who, to him, was a great mystery. Who
she was he knew not, but somehow her voice
and face seemed thoroughly familiar, and he
tried his best to recall when and where he had
before met her. The effort was a vain one, and
he at last reluctantly gave it up. He found that
it distracted his attention from present employ
ment—watching the mule.
Though the latter might be a joke, he was
rather inclined to receive it seriously, and act
upon the suggestions made by Blaze; and ac
cordingly, so far as his will-power could control
his thoughts and actions, he carried out the ad
vice. Gradually his mind went drifting back to
Marian; then he saw the huge ears twitch and
bend sideways—something approached. He lis
tened long and earnestly, yet could hear noth
ing. Still the ears kept turned in that same di
rection, and he knew that there must be some
thing there to awaken this interest. Accordingly,
he bent himself down and advanced in a stoop
ing position, with every sense upon the alert,
and half expecting that the cause of the evi
dent excitement of the animal would make it
self seen in the return of Blaze. Carefully tak
ing his bearings, he dived into the thickest of
the shadows.
Before had gone a hundred yards he stopped
upon something that he took to be a section of
an old log. To his surprise he felt it give be
neath his tread, and he leaped backward. The
supposed log was the body of a human being !
When he saw that it remained motionless, he
advanced once more to investigate. He found
the corpse of a Cheyenne. The life had been
let out of the Indian by one powerful knife
thrust in the back. Without doubt, this was
some of Blaze’s handiwork.
CHAPTER XVII.
The Cheyenne clutched Lieutenant Priestly
fiercely by the throat with his left hand; the
right was raised high in air, brandishing a
hatchet. For an instant it seemed as though
the last moment of the pale-face had arrived.
The hatchet descended, but as it came the
handle struck across the stem of a bush, the
head was flung backward, hitting the Indian a
blow near the ear so sharply that his senses were
partially confused. He looked upward, think
ing of a new adversary, and at the same time
Priestly gave three rapid, powerful thrusts, each
one leaving a wide, deep wound.
Not a sound had escaped the lips of either.
The only thing to be heard was the noise of the
movements of the men, the twang of the hatchet
against the sapling and the dull thud of the
Lieutenant’s knife.
At the second stroke a gasping “ ah,” gurgled
from the throat of the red man, at the third he
toppled over backwards, and the young officer
deftly slipped from under. Upon regaining his
the outlaws, and the trapper, in turn, had stated
that he had a partner in the neighborhood who
might give some valuable information could he |
be found. Both were under orders, too, and j
were anxious to avoid making any actually hos- '■
tile demonstration against Captain Ronald, ex- j
cept as a dernier resort. He was to be watched j
for the present, until his intentions were known.
Every depredation that he had committed had j
so far been on Mexican soil, and until some
formal demand was made bv those in authority I
in that nation, there was no great anxiety to
push into blood work for the sake of extraditing
a foreign criminal. A man who had persistently
lightened the purses of Mexican cattle-stealers,
and more than once checked these greater out
laws in their raids over the Rio Grande, seemed
to call for sympathy rather than revenge.
But if Coptain Ronald’s private intention was
to carry the war into Africa, the sooner it was
known the better. It might require additional
troops at that section of the frontier, but at any
cost he must be’crushed.
“ Hallo,” said Blaze; and he drew in his mule,
his companion ranging alongside. “D’ye see
that? Suthin’s happened. The reds hez stop
ped, and ’twarn’t fur nothin’.”
Priestly looked around. It was just at day
break. Upon the crests of the prairie swells
there rested a dubious, uncertain, but rapidly
feet he bent down to give one more stroke with ! increasing light. In the hollows the darkness
• ■ ’ antecedent to dawn lay deep. Wherever his
eye could pierce, the young officer cast search
ing glances, but saw nothing to rivet his atten
tion, and expressed as much to Blaze.
“See ! in course yer can’t see fur shucks, ef
ye waste yer time out thar. Hyar’s the ther-
moneter right under yer nose, that shows ef it’s
red-hot with copper-skins er all sircue an’ cool
from hyar to the mountings. Jist squint at
them years.”
The “years” were indeed giving token, plain
ly as could be, of something to the right that
Lemuel deemed worthy of attention. But Blaze,
while he was talking, was not looking at them,
although they were so prominently brought to
the notice of the officer. He was gazjng at one
particular spot out upon the plain, and his
knowledge _ evefy bush and stone, and even
almost of every shadow, served him well. When
the sharp but untutored eye of Priestly could
detect nothing that was important enough to
demand a second glance, Blaze reduced to forms
the darker shadow that was slowly swinging
across a slow or ravine, and read their purpose
as plainly, almost, as if it had been daylight.
Lively times were ahead. The savages were
formed in regular column of attack, and were
moving on some foe, unseen, but doubtless on
the other side of the ridge. There another
branch wound its short. Westward course, and
it would not be surprising if there was a camp
upon its banks.
“Now, Lieutenant, ez a gentleman ana officer
what’s yer idea o’the game? An’ speak desprit
quick; there’s whites over yonder hill, an’ reds
this side. Shall we take the heathen kerslap in
the flanks an’ make ’em think the great jumpin
Jehoshaphat had kicked ’em, or shall we go slow
with our peddlin’ operations, keep on up their
course till we kin serving in behind to the
whites? I guess thar aint no dou-ht but what
its some ov yer blue coats that’s goin’ to fall into
a consarned big difficulty.”
“ Just as you choose, yet perhaps we had better
try the latter method.”
“ All right, an’ to wake ’em up ef theyre snooz-
en acrost the ridge, I’ll jist send in Bill Blaze’s
compliment’s at long range.”
As he said this Blaze drew himself up in the
saddle, took a line aim and then elevating the
muzzle of his piece an inch or so pulled the
trigger.
his kuife. As he did so he was suddenly seized
around the ankle by a hand reaching along the
ground and flung headlong across the prostrate
body of his late foe. Then the dark forms of
two savages arose with a spring and leaped upon
him.
He gave himself np for lost. He had fallen
face-foremost, and his knife in that position could
avail him nothing, whilst it was impossible to
use his revolver. A knee came grinding into
the small of his back, pressing him down with
no small weight, and his wrists being seized his
arms were drawn behind him with a violent
wrench. He was a prisoner to a brace of Chey
enne warriors, one of whom, in a low, com
pressed tone, muttered:
“Tom Blaze big brave; Little Bull got him.
No kill Cheyenne more. Him burn a heap.”
Without doubt the savages had mistaken him
for Blaze, who had a ghostly reputation as an
Indian-slayer, and the temptation to take him in
to the main body saved his life for Priestly. It
overcame the desire of the red men to wreak the
immediate vengeance which it was now in their
power to take.
The Lieutenant lay perfectly still, concen
trating all his energies for one decided effort.
He suffered himself to be dragged from the
corpse upod which he had fallen and did not
wince under the rough handling.
His life was hanging by a very slender thread.
When Little Bull and his comrade caught a
glimpse of the dead Cheyenne they raised their
weapons to strike, yet hesitated.
‘ ‘ Old Blaze much burn for that. Kill no more
Cheyenne—waugh !”
As if an echo, though hoarse and with a dis
dainful ring, came an answering “ waugh 1”
Rising at their vt ry feet, Bill Blaze himself
appeared. Without tue loss of a second of time
he tossed upon the captors, and seized by the
neck one with either hand. For the twinkle or
so of an eye the three forms swayed together.
Then, before they had had time for word or
effort, Blaze tore them from the ground, clashed
them together and flung them in a heap.
A terrific war-cry burst from the lips of the
two, but no breathing spell or time for thought
was given. Like a tiger Blaze was upon them.
There was a confused tumbling and twisting,
and crashing and snarling; then, as Priestly
came dashing in to the assistance of his friend,
the trapper separated from the tangled mass and
stood up with his knife red and dripping.
“ Sotten up a barber’s shop was they—willin’
to cut har for nothin’. Met a stranger and
wanted to take him. Blast my tail feather fur
an everlastin’ ole comb-cut sweligoster ef yer
wa’n’t in the a leetle o’ the tightest place a man
wants to get inter. That makes ’bout nineteen
hundred an’ eleven as I’ve obfusticated sence
sunrise.”
“Y'ou came at a good time. They caught me
napping, and lam afraid another moment would
have been too late.”
“ Whar was Lemuel, though ? I’d a thort
he’d been wadin' ’round in this gore. Don’t
tell me I left a stranger in his keer, and he went
back on him.”
“Oh, no,” answered the other, feeling a
strange lightness after his escape from such im-
inent danger. “In fact, it was by watching him
that I was warned in time to save his hide and
my own.”
“That’s him, every time; know’d he wouldn’t
throw off on any white man. Whoo ! Bill Blaze
is on the war-path ! Wake snakes, and sail in 1”
“ Hush!” exclaimed the other, warningly.
“ That can be heard a mile or more, and we will
have the whole drove of wolves down on us.”
“Nary onct. I’ve bin all through their
camp, an’ there ain’t a red nigger left alive
within half dozen miles. All on ’em pulled up
stakes and left ’ceptin’ this yere start fur a grave
yard. Left five on ’em to keer for Blaze, they
did, an’ the rest skyoozled. Got yer papers,
and arter ye’ve seen what’s in ’em, ef thar ain’t
nothin’ to hinder, we’ll just waltz arter ’em.
Thar’s some deviltry afloat.”
“ What mean you,” she murmured, and would
have gone on with a waste of words, but with a
stern gesture he waved her into silence.
“Girl, a few years ago, the family of Bayne
was a happy one. A false scoundrel came and
with scheme and lie dragged you down. Be-
trajrnd, abandoned, you shall, at least be
avenged. For years I have been upon the search
for the villain, and to-night when I find him
here with some baser woman I find you too;
your hands would have drawn my fingers from
his throat. Tell me, does he still live? Have
you been lingering by his side?
“You will not speak; by heavens! I shall
search for him again; he shall die by this hand,
for I have sworn it. If he escapes me Ronald’s
hand will do the work; it is not for naught that
he has come into these almost untrodden wilds,
though he was mad to bring you with him. Go
back to your hut and say your prayers if you
choose. If that fiend lives I shall slay him.”
With this parting threat he shook his reins
fiercely and his steed bounded away once more.
The sound of a rifle shot pierced the air, fol
lowed by the noise of conflict. Hot work was
going on somewhere in the distance, and with
the instinct of battle strong upon himself and
charger, Allan Bayne made directy for the sound.
CHAPTER XVIII.
Regardless of all claims of nature for a season
of repose, the two men were soon in the saddle
and upon the trail of the Cheyennes. It was of
this very party that Biaze had been ordered to
seek information, and the paper which he had
recovered from the footof the cairn, had spoken
to Priestly of the same thing. It also ordered
him to look out for and join a body of troopers
who were making their way into that region.
Accordingly, the two retraced their steps, re
crossed the stream at the ford, and turned their
faces in the very direction from whence Priestly
had lately come. He was re-traversing the fa
miliar route, and harking straight back to the
CHAPTER XIX.
The stolid mien of Allan Bayne was not the
result of physical exhaustion, nor did his silence
arise from lack of thought. After the intense
excitement of the moment naturally followed a
ealm. Perhaps the appearance of Ellen as sud
den as his own had something to do with it.
It is scarcely necessary to take up the history
of his life from the time when he fell before the
bullet of Marian Dorn until his coming as an
interrupter of her interview with her recreant
husband. Enough to say that lying senseless
in the long grass he thereby escaped the sight
of the Indians when they made their attack
upon the camp of the overlanders and did not
recover consciousness until the nomads had de
parted. Some time afterwards he arose, weak
and trembling, and without any very definite
idea of what he was doing, staggered down to the
spot where, an hour or so before, he had left the
camp.
A single glance was sufficient to reveal the
direful work that had been done, and he turned ; dered whites in the defile,
away sick at heart. His mind was sound enough
save when his family sorrows were concerned,
and he took in at once the whole appalling
catastrophe. He who alone of all who cared
naught for either life.or death, alone was spared.
By good fortune he recovered his horse; the
sagacious animal had been shrewd enough to
keep itself out of harmsway. Mounting, the
crack-brained Texan rode aimlessly over the
prairie, drawn this way and that, and at length
made his appearance as described.
Obedient to his son, Bayne moved away; his
horse was waiting at a short distance, and he
mounted in a mood which might be listless or i had worked well up along the river bank, and
CHAPTER XX.
The shot fired by Blaze had the effect of pre
cipitating the impending crisis. The bullet
struck in the ranks of the savages; the report
alarmed the detachment of soldiers that was
encamped upon the branch beyond.
Tired by a long and difficult march, when a
temporary halt was called a majority of the men
fell asleep almost instantly; the few sentinels
who remained awake looking anxiously for the
reappearance of Lieutenant Moulden and the
two men he-had taken with him, on what had
not been deemed a dangerous enterprise. At
the sound of the scout's rifle these sentinels
looked around with redoubled vigilance and so
caught sight of a long line of dark forms dash
ing over the crest of the hill and driving
straight towards the camp. A glance was suffi
cient to see that these approaching horsemen
were Indians, and without hesitation the guards
levelled and discharged their pieces, at the same
time giving a great cry of alarm.
Instantly the already partially aroused camp
was in active motion; the men sprang to their
arms and faced the foe, whose direction was not
hard to determine. At the first shots—which
showed that their presence was known—the
savages broke into a yell and galloped down like
a screaming whirlwind.
The impetus of that charge was not to be re
sisted by the handful of men who just awakened
had barely had time to scramble into i-addle and
seize their weapons. There was some desultory
firing with little effect, a feeble cheer ending in
almost a groan and then the soldiers as if urged
by a single impulse, turned and sought refuge
in flight.
The right about movement brought to light
new changes which even the most panic-stricken
could see.
The original attacking party was not a hun
dred yards in their rear; to the right and well
past their flank another party came gliding on
at headlong rate, whilst still farther on in front
was drawn up in line a band of silent men, half
soldierly, half savage in their equipment, each
one holding in his right hand the shaft of a long
lance. They barred the way. Without word
or motion they silently watched the result of
the combat. They might be friends, they might
be foes. Men who remained unconcernedly
neutral at sight of such a straight were most
likely to prove the latter.
One way alone seemed open, the side where
in the distance flowed the river; but whether
there was ford or passing place no man then
knew. One moment of Bob Blake to guide them
would seem a fortune.
Towards the river then they turned, with
their pursuers thundering on behind. From
either party shots, half-aimed and wildly-sent, j
were fired, and the distance, for the time, did
not materially lessen. Like a shadow the silent
lancers obliqued and moved at a steady pace,
keeping still the same distance, their leader
bending forward in his saddle, his eyes strain
ing to distinguish the form of each white man.
Perhaps it was by chance—perhaps by inten
tion—but the movement of the outlaw lancers
crowding the soldiers towards the river caused
them to head directly towards a fordable spot.
Towards the upper mouth of the gulch which
led down to the river bed the fugitives skurried
in a helter-skelter mass. In their rear came Red
Snake himself and the train of frantic warriors,
who urged on their ponies to the top of their
speed, if happily they might catch the disor-
On either side one
or two had dropped from their saddles, but the
work of slaughter had not yet fairly begun.
It was just at this juncture that Lieutenant
Moulden, mounted upon the horse of Parsons
the trapper, came rushing out of the canon.
His face was pale and blood-flecked and his
clothes torn by the fall through the branches of
the oak, but his seat in the saddle was reason
ably firm and his brain had cleared. Ray |
more and dashed towards the mouth of the
gulch from which Moulden had just made his
exit.
Within that canon—as the reader knows—were
Parsons and his charge, Marian Dorn.
Blaze surveyed the field with the eye of a
learned strategist.
“Thar’s some ’turnal deefi killies ’round hyar
that hez need on us weary peelgrims to straight
en out. Jake’s layin’ low fur sumthin’, an’ I’m
bound to see him through. I hais a road clear
along up the stream an’ we must ez well take it
anyhow. Loosen up yer weapons, lay nigh down
to yer hosses neck an’ kim on.”
It seemed a desperate chance, yet Priestly did
not hesitate. The road under the side of the
precipice led to a crossing near the outlaws’
camp, but Captain Ronald and his men seemed
to be all surveying the battle and could they
dash by the rear of the savages, rough as was the
pathway through the canon, they could doubt
less make good their escape in that way as well
as any other and they might be of service to the
scout Parsons, who for some unexplained cause
was lurking in the fastness.
There was an impediment to the execution of
the plan, the Cheyennes who were just charging
for the gulch; but this the two did not see. The
separation was made after the Indians had tem
porarily vanished from sight around a little
knoll.
So the two, with revolvers in hand, started
headlong from their covert on their dangerous
ride, not knowing the fortunes that they carried.
[For The Sunny South-!
GRAY HAIRS.
BY ETWILB.
The snows of sixty-three winters have fallen
on my head, and it is now covered with a man
tle of white. This white wreath is a crown that
death places on my head for having run this
long life race. Oh that in my case it might be
an emblem of the purity of that life !
I used to think that the first color of our hair
should be white. It would be so appropriate for
the purity and innocence of childhood; and
then, as we grow older in the sin of the world,
our hair I thought ought to grow darker. But
’tis best as it is, Death leaves all things white.
God in his mercy has sent these gray hairs.
Young people may have trembling limbs and
dim eyes like myself, but gray hairs they very
seldom have.
This is the seal that God has set upon old age;
and its characters are so plain and clear that
none can mistake them. I feel that these are
divine messages from God Himself to me, tell
ing me that I am no longer young, but am old.
Oh, what a terror they must be to some ! A very
death-knell of their life it must seem ! And life
is so dear to some people and so hard to give
up.
I remember I shed tears when I discovered
my first gray hair. It was not because I was
afraid of death, but my heart was full of the past
and future, and somehow the tears would come.
I did not pluck it out. as so many others do, for
I could not treat God’s messengers in that way.
I never knew when the next one came, nor the
next, nor the next. Now I know they are all
white. Each one has succeeded the other as
silently as the fall of snowflakes. You have
often from your window watched the falling of
the snow, and as the great white mantle covered
the landscape, wondered how it could fall so
quietly and silently—the depth increasing so
surely and imperceptibly. • So upon my head,
dropped from God’s hand, have these white
hairs fallen, and so gently and slowly do we
sink into the grave, that we would never know
how near we were to it unless these gray hairs
came to warn us.
They are a perpetual reminder that I am
drawing near to the end of time. They hush
my tongue when it would speak a hasty or un
kind word, and stop the very workings of my
brain when it would entertain unholy thoughts.
They make me kind and gentle to all those I
meet, and they fill my heart with charity towards
my fellow-man.
The end is not far off. Death will soon receive
me in her cool, white arms. I will need no
anointing from priestly hands, for God has sent
these gray hairs to anoint me for my burial.
It is well known that even English statesmen are
wonderfully ignorant of American geography, but
it is not often that they will confess the fact. Lord
Rosbery, in a recent speech in London, said that
“he could walk up to a map in the dark and
put his finger on the site of Cicero’s villa, but if
any one asked him where San Francisco was he
should have to think twice.” This confession re
calls to the “Table-Talker” of the Gentlemen’s
Magazine, a similar remark of Mr. Cobden made
twenty years ago: “These men,” said Cobden,
speaking of English ambassadors and the necessity
of turning them into commercial travelers, “these
men know where the Ilissus is, but they know
nothing of the Mississippi: yet the Mississippi
could float all the navies of Europe upon its bosom,
and it took me half a day to find the Ilissus when I
was in Athens, and then 1 only found the bed of
the river. Half a dozen washer-women had
dammed up the Ilissus to wash their clothes.”
. , , . . , -i It is stated in an old volume printed nearly for-
Moulden had a fair stock of physical courage < that when the regulations of the West
quH if An him ctraifThr. t/iYva-rric fha onnnnc J J
and it led him straight towards the sounds of
conflict.
Boston Bridge were drawn up by two famous law-
„ i- j. t>i , , . -I vers, one section was written and accepted and
By this time too, Blaze and his companion * ’ , . . nrnnr :I tnraBhs ,n
thoughtful, but at any rate was silent.
The ride back to the outlaw camp was a dreary
one. Both men were chary of words, and so the
secret of the late doings at the ledge was well
kept.
And now, when they had gained the camp,
one of the men came hurrying back with reports
that completely altered all pre-arranged plans
I though not far enough to join forces with the
soldiers as they went streaming by in a mad
rush for the river,, they could have reached with
a rifle shot the savages, who followed close in
the rear.
Looking beyond, Blaze saw Moulden make his
now stands thus: “And the said proprietors shall
meet annually on the first Tuesday of June, pro
vided the same does not fall on Sunday.” These
disciples of Black stone were matened by a very
worthy citizen of East Tennessee. In a religious
meeting held there almost half a century ago this
exemplary gentleman was “giving in his expe-
shade of the timber at the mouth of the canon,
which he may have had. Without pause for Jacob Parsons evidently taking a critical survey
thoughts or conversation the Captain immedia
tely had his whole band formed, and placing
himself at their head dashed back again over
his late course, ready for observation, defence,
or attack as farther investigation might indicate.
In the turmoil and confusion attendant upon
appearance, and far behind, skulking in the i rienee,” and stated that he had violated the Sab
bath but once; that he had sown his flax-seed on
Sunday one year, because Good Friday (regarded
by not a few as auspicious day for sowing flax
seed) occurred that Sunday.
“Beauty,” says a French writer, “is all the vir
tue of some people, and virtue is ail the beauty of J
others.” r.
of the condition of affairs. Why he was not out
and in the scrimmage was at first a mystery, but
in a second the thought flashed across his mind
that he remained behind to protect some one
who needed protection. Then his attention
came back to Moulden once more.