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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.