The sunny South. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1875-1907, April 13, 1878, Image 2
2
*—
remarked the poacher. I wur almost beginnin
to he nfeard yer’d got stopped.'
‘Oh no. no one has seen us,’ answered Ben,
confidently.
That’s right.’ returned Dan. ‘an’ now 'ee all
got’ere safe and sound, I think we’d better b e
get inside. Theer be never no knowin’ who be
about. My old crib bean’t much better nor a
pig-sty. but I'll try and make 'ee as comforta
ble as I can.’
‘Oh, it’s a capital place!’ exclaimed Ben,’ I
like it.’
‘So do I,’ echoed Tom; ‘It’s full of curiosities - ’
The boys entered with that bonyant step,
which is one of the chief characteristics of
youth. Dan followed and barred the door.
The interior of the poacher’s dwelling was
highly characteristic of the owner.
The fire-place was on the ground, and on the
hearth blazed a cheerful flame that rendered a
candle unnecessary.
Over the fire was a flint gun, which, though old
looking, was nevertheless, as Dan managed it,
effectual, though as he admitted, it was an aw
ful kicker.’
On the walls hung several fishing-rods of Dan’s
own construction; whilst on different shelves,
rudely fastened against the walls, were numer
ous specimens of such birds, beasts, and fishes,
as the woods and streams conld produce, all of
which had been first caught, and afterwards
stuffed by the porcher’s own hands
Dan having allowed his young guests to feast
their eyes for a time on these natural produc
tions, of which he was rather proud, invited their
attention to a feast of another description—bread
and cheese and ale.
The boys were hungry, and did full justice to
the simple fare before them.
‘ Well, an’ ’ow did yer find the onld man ?’
asked the poacher; ‘wur’e scared at your not
cornin’ ’ome ?'
‘ Dreadfully, he seemed to me,’ returned Ben.
‘ So he did to me,’ echoed Tom. ‘I never saw
him look so strange before. -Taney said he was
going mad, and I’m sure 1 thought he was, too.’
‘Eh, ’e be getting ould and nervous,’ remarked
Dan.
‘I never saw him so excited before, Ben con
tinued ; ‘and I never heard him speak so strange
ly. He seemed to have something on his mind,
something about one particular night when we
were infants.’
‘I fancy something very extraordinary must
have happened on that night, that we had some
thing to do with,’ Ben went on, ‘though what it
was he didn’t say.’
‘ Ah ! ees exclaimed the poacher, reflective
ly; and then added: P’r’aps it might 'abinsoom-
mat about your parents.’
‘ Oh, it couldn’t have been about them, be
cause we never had any, replied Tom naively.
‘ Never !’ corroborated Ben.
Balph Murdoch was not an ugly man, but in
the position in which he sat, enveloped in the
drapery of his cloak and with his profile exag
gerated and enlarged, he made a very ngly
shadow.
As Dan canght sight of it as he turned from
the door and watched it flickering in the fire
light, he murmured to himself:
‘It do look uncommon like Old Nick.’
But the poacher was a practical, sturdy man,
not given to superstitions ideas, and so dismiss
ing the fancy from his mind, he seated himself
upon another block of wood, opposite the new
comer, and looking him in the face, waited for
him to speak.
TO 1JE CONTINUED.
Battles Around Atlanta.
EIGHTH PAPER.
among whom are a considerable number of Co
lonels and subordinate field officers. They are
still coming in. The Yankees confess that the
movement of Gen. Hardee and Wheeler was a
surprise, and found an entire lack of prepara-
in consequence. 1- ' «.
GENERAL KHERMAN S OFFICIAL BEFORT.
From his “Headquarters Military Division of
Mississippi, in the field near Atlanta, July 23,
1864,” General Sherman sent the following brief
report of the operations of the 22nd to General
Halleck:
“Y'esterdi —•Mning the enemy fell back to
the intrenclmiecus oner of the city of Atlanta,
which are in a general eire ••, with a radius of
one and a half miles, and we closed in. While
we were forming our lines, and selecting posi
tions for our batteries, the enemy appeared sud
denly out of the dense woods in heavy masses
on our extreme left, and struck the Seventeenth
Corps (General Blair) in flank, and was forcing
it back, when the Sixteenth Corps (General
Dodge) came up and checked the movement;
THE LOST CHILD;
-OK—
The Wolf-Woman.
THRILLING STORY OF
MOUNTAINS.
THE ROCKY
BY W. H. B.
CHAPTER X.—A NIGHT IN THE MOUNTAINS —
THE SECRET OF TEN YEARS.
With the rescued child in his arms, and close- j Let us examine her wounds.’
‘Come, Buffalo-Hoof,’ he shouted, ‘come, she
is an Indian woman. Try and speak to her.’
The red man did as he was requested, and
was answered in his nativo tongue, though with
but two words—
‘Decotah—Totem—’ and she feebly raised her
hand.
The eyes of Buffalo-Hoof followed the direc
tion of her pointing fingers, and then he stag
gered as though he had received a heavy blow.
‘What did she say ? What is the matter with
you ?’ asked his companion, eagerly.
‘That she belonged to my tribe.’
‘But what made you start so?’
‘I was thinking how near she had come to
death !’
Death! Do you think there is any danger ?
ly followed by the Indian, Lowell rushed back
ward and upward to where the trapper was
standing, cursing his luck that he had not his
rifle to try another shot at the fleeing woman.
‘What good would that have done you?’ asked
Lowell, ‘she is already badly wounded, and es-
IfclMIOrfs of flip Battle of Atlanta I bu ^ - h ! e ?f my / S cava ^ r y Z ot wel \ to our ie , ar A cape is’impossible.’ and he briefly related what
itepoi IN OI lilt «. line 01 All.tnia, I ,:nd into Decatur, and lor some hours our left | frnm .. Una nt
BY SIDNEY HERBERT.
On the 23d of July, 1874, the Confederate gov
ernment at Richmond announced the receipt of
an official telegram, at noon of that day, from
Gen. John B. Hood, dated Atlanta, July 22d,
and addressed to the Secretary of War, of
which the following is the substance;
“This army has shifted its position and was
fronting on Peachtree Creek last night, and
Stewart’s and Cheatham’s corps formed a line of
battle around the city. Gen. Hardee made a
night march, and attacked the enemy’s extreme
left to-day about 10 o’clock. He drove him from
his works, capturing sixteen pieces of artillery
and five stands of colors. Gen. Cheatham at
tacked the enemy, capturing six pieces of artil
lery. During the engagement we captured
about two thousand prisoners. Gen. Wheeler’s
cavalry attached the enemy’s redoubts in the
neighborhood of Decatur to-day, capturing his
camp. Our loss is not fully ascertained. Maj.
Gen. W. H. T. Walker was killed and Brigadier
Generals Gist, Mercer and Smith wounded.
Prisoners report that the Yankee General Mc
Pherson was killed. Our troops fought with
great gallantry.”
SOUTHERN PRESS TELEGRAMS.
A special telegram to the Savannah Republi
can, dated July 22d, was headed : “More Glori
ous News! The Battle Still Raging!! Nearly
4,000 Prisoners Taken !!! Gallantry of Wheel
er’s Cavalry and the Georgia Militia ! !!!” Then
followed this brief account of the battle: ‘The
enemy surrounded the city on the north side in
the form of a semi-circle, and opened fire heav-
Well, ’ee can ’ave it ver own way as far as jlv with artillery, which continued until about
that goes, said Dan, with a good-natured smile
on his broad face, ‘but if I was to give my erpin-
ion, I should say yer did; only pVapsthey died
afore ’ee was old enough t’ remember ’em.’
‘Perhaps so,’ Ben acquiesced: and then he
said, ‘I don’t think John Trusty is our father,
though we always speak of him as such, and call
him dad.’
‘You be right theer,’ returned the poacher;
‘he bean’t no flresh and bfood o’ yonr’n.’
2 o'clock. Generals Hardee and Wheeler had
been detached the night before by Gen. Hood,
and had by this time struck the enemy’s left,
making a handsome flank movement, when Gen.
Hood’s old corps, under Gen. Cheatham, ad
vanced from their breastworks and drove Sher
man’s lines over their breastworks and more
than a mile, capturing a large number of guns,
flags and prisoners. The battle is not yet con
cluded, Gen. Hardee still pursuing on the Fed
I don’t know whether he meant onr parents j e ral flanks, having captured sixteen guns and
by what he said,’ Ben went on, ‘but he spoke of
his master and mistress.’
‘ P’r’aps they was yer parints remarked Dan,
stolidly,
‘P’r’aps so,’ repeated Ben; ‘but no one could
have been kindei to us than dear old John. I
don’t think I eonld love him better if he were
reallv my father.'
‘ No more do I,’ assented Tom.
‘ N’ moor’ee ought, my boys,’ wound up Dan,
‘cos why, he has Lin a feyther an’ -mother to ’ee
i—a-r> r f
‘Dear dad!’ continued Ben, afl'ectionately,
‘how dreadfully alarmed he was at our breaking
out of the cage ! He says we must leave this
place; that our lives are not safe while we stay
in it.’
‘ An’ dy’e mean t’ go?’ asked Dan opening his
eyes very wide.
" ‘ Yes I do returned Ben, unhesitatingly.
‘ So do 1 !' echoed Tom! ‘we’re both going.
‘ Wheer ?’ asked the poacher, in astonishment.
‘ I don’t know yet,’ answered Ben, indifferent
ly. Somewhere, I suppose.’
* ‘ Yor’ll find it rather ’ard es, won’t yer?’ lin
said Dan.
‘ I don’t know I’m sure,’ answered Ben. I
only know we promised dad, and that we must
go.’
The poacher looked at the lads thoughtfully—
benevolently, for an instant, and murmured to
himself:
‘ Poor boys ! it be a rough world they’ll ’ave
to battle wi’.’ Then he said to Ben, ‘An when
did ’ee think o’ bein’ orft'?’
‘ The sooner the better,’ Ben replied. ‘Now
we’re out of the cage, I think we’d better get
away as quickly as we can. It wouldn’t do to
be—’
Dan suddenly checked him by laying his hand
upon his arm.
‘Sh !’ he whispered, hastily.
‘What’s the matter?’ asked the boys, also in
whisper.
The poacher made no reply, but placed his
finger warningly upon his lips.
The next moment a slight snapping of twigs
was heard and a light footstep cautiously ap
proaching; followed almost immediately by a
somewhat decided and imperative knock a tthe
door.
Ben started up with flushed face, and looked
inquiringly at Dan.
Tom also started up, but his face was pale;
he glanced eagerly around, as if looking for a
friendly cupboard to creep into.
But seeing none, he turned again to the
poacher.
Dan uttered not a word, but pressing his lip
emphatically with his finger to enjoin strict
silence, he raised a small trap door in the floor
of the hut, and pointed down it.
Tom eagerly advanced and descended thenar-
row steps.
Ben followed; the trap was closed and a box
placed upon it.
The knocking was then repeated, sharply.
‘ \V ho be theer ? asked Dan Dark in a drowsy
tone, as though he had been just aroused from
slumber.
‘ A friend,’ answered a voice that Dan did not
recognize; ‘ open the door.’
Wondering who it could be, the poacher
drew back the bolt, and the door swinging for
ward on its hinges revealed the cloaked form of
Ralph Murdoch.
He was, of course, an entire stranger to Dan.
Dan was also, of course an entire stranger to
him.
So for an instant the proprietor of the hovel
and the visitor stood looking at each other.
‘ Don’t be alarmed,’ said Mr. Murdoch, at
length, to the sturdy poacher, who blocked’ np
the entrance with his broad shoulders; ‘the
motive that brings me here is a friendly one.’
Oh, I bean’t afeared,’ returned Dan, only it
be rayther late to admit strangers. Come in.’
As the poacher withdrew his form, the visitor
advanced into the hut.
•Close the door and bolt it,’ said the latter.
Dan obeyed, and Mr. Murdoch in the mean
time seated himself on a block of wood—which
served a9 a stool, unloosened the fastenings of
his cloak, and removed his hat, as the hat was
warm.
fire cast the shadow of the visitor strong-
,he wall.
about twenty-five hundred prisoners. The total
number of guus that we have captured and
have now on hand ta is from twenty-two to twen
ty-four, and nearly 4,000 prisoners.
.:nd into Decatur, and for some hours our
i flank was completely enveloped.
“The fight that resulted was continuous until
i night, with heavy loss on both sides. The en
emy took one of our batteries (Murray's, of the
Regular Army)that was marching in its place in
column in the road, unconscious of danger. I
, About 4 p. m. the enimy sallied against the di
vision of General jrfirgan L. Smith, of the Fif
teenth Corps, whien occupied an abandoned
line of riflle trenciVsear the railroad east of
| the city, and forced it back some four hundred
j yards, leaving in his hands for the time two
i batteries; but the ground and batteries were im-
I mediately after recovered by the same troops
1 re-enforced. I cannot well approximate our I
' loss, which fell heavily on the Fifteenth and
j Seventeenth Corps, but count it as three thou- j
sand; I know that, being on the defensive, we !
i have inflicted equally heavy loss on the enemy,
i General McP! erson, when arranging his troops
about 11 a. m., and passing from one column to
' another, incautiously rode upon an ambus
cade without apprehension, at some distance
i ahead of his staff and orderlies, and was shot
! dead."
1 Under date of July ‘25th, and covering the
■ official reports of General Logan and General
Garrard, the following report was sent to Gen.
Halleck by General Sherman:
“I find it difficult to make prompt report of
results, coupled with some date or informa
tion, without occasionally making mistakes.
McPherson’s sudden death, and Logan suc
ceeding to the command as it it were in the
midst of battle,some confusion on our ex
treme left; but it soon recovered and made sad
havoc with the enemy, who had practiced one
of his favorite games of attacking our left when
in motion, and before it had time to cover its
weak flank. AftwfUiding over the ground and
hearing the varying statements of the actors, I
directed General Logan to make an official re
port of the actual result, and I herewith en
close it:
“Though the number of dead rebels seems
excessive, I am disposed to give full credit to
the report that our loss, though only thirty-five
hundred and twenty-one killed, wounded and
missing, the enemy’s dead alone on the field
nearly equaled that number, viz: thirty-two
hundred and twenty. Happening at that point
of the line whan a flag of truce was sent in to
he had heard from the lips of the child.
‘Wal,’ was the still doubting reply, ‘it may all
be jest as you say, but I haint convinced yet.’
‘And would not be if you saw her dead at
your feet. ’
‘It hain’t no kind of matter now. We’ve got
their babe safe and sound, and that’s all we
want.’
You take the child to its more than anxious
mother, and Buffalo-Hooff and I will find the
woman, and soon bring her there also.'
‘What ! hunt for her when it’s growing dark?
Jest see, man, it don’t lack er half er hour of
sundown.
‘That don’t matter. She is wounded, and I
am not going to leave her here to die alone, es
pecially after she saved my life.’
‘Ther more fool you then,’ and continuing to
grumble, he took up the little one. - We'll come
out and look arter yer bones in ther morniu’.
They'll be picked clean enuff, I know, long be
fore that time.’
‘Which way did the woman go?’
‘The wolf you mean ! Wal, she jest disap
peared like er flash of lightning in them ar
bushes, yonder. So yer are detarmined ter go?’
‘Yes, take that child safely home, and we will
look after ourselves.’
‘Good-bye, then,’ and the honest but super
stitious trapper wrung his hands, wiped a tear
trom his eye, as he thougnt of what their late
would be, and hastened to fulfil his mission.
As soon as he was out of sight, Lowell turned
to the Indian and asked him if he would help
him find the trail. From beneath his belt Buf
falo-Hoof drew a tiny bag, tied with wampum
strings, and having carefully cut it in twain, he
gave one half to his companion, and returned
the other to its former resting place.
‘Take,’ he said, -it will save you from the
power of the Evil spirit.’
Willing to gratify him, the white man placed
it near his heart, and motioned him to proceed.
As the trapper had said, the night was swiftly
coming on, and they had no time to lose. Even
he, although brave to recklessness, eared not to
pass the dark hours in the mountains, more es
pecially after his recent indispositon.
Though they soon found the trail, they did
not find the object of their search. Her supe
rior knowledge of the locality and hiding-places
gave her the advantage, so darkness found them
I gave General Logun authoritv to permit
LV-IUlir, 11 LIU ucuii\ t,uw tmouuuio. Y_Tt* 11 a a i *7 i *i
Wheeler’s cavalry greatly distinguished them- | temporary truce on that flank alone while our
selves, carrying a line of formidable breastworks j labors and b g bt,D 8 proceeded at all others,
and capturing a garrison camp equipage and ■ report of gen. logan.
many cannon.” ^ Under days of Atlanta, July, 24th 1864, Gen.
A general press telegram, dated Atlanta, July j John A. L ^ then in temporary command
23d, was headed: ‘Latest from the Georgia j Q f tlie ‘Arfqwn iV.uV^ijnessee’ (in place of Gen.
H , .j. B: 57ci ner-, .■ « , v rep. on me" 221) made
ot Wheeler s Cavalry !!. 500 \Vagons with Sup-J tRo following official report to Gan, Sherman,
in response to a special order to that effect:
, ... , . . , , , istil wandering; and as every step was treache-
ask permission for each party to bury its dead, j ronSj LoweU w *’ s at length f orc ed to follow the
advice of the Indian, and prepare to camp
plies Captured !!!! Our Troops Still Pursuing
Them !!!!!’ The body of the telegram read :
‘General Wheeler last evening attacked the ene
my’s left in the neighborhood of Decatur, and
drove them back, capturing five hundred wag
ons with supplies, and a large number of pris
oners. He is still pursuing them. There was
very little fighting after dark yesterday. Two
thousand prisoners, seventy-five commissioned
officers, twenty-five pieces of artillery and seven
stands of colors have deen bronght in. The
losses on either side are not yet known. Ours
was severe in officers. Comparative quiet reigns
here this morning. There is some little skir
mishing on our left.’
REPORTS OF war CORRESPONDENTS.
The special correspondent (‘Eufaula’) of the
Augusta Constitutionalist, under date of Atlanta,
July 23d, wrote thus briefly to his paper:
•General Hardee’s corps, in connection with a
portion of Wheeler’s cavalry, yesterday evening
turned the enemy’s left wing and drove them
behind two lines of works, capturing many
prisoners, small arms and cannon. The enemy
were driven back about three miles.
‘This morning, owing to the configuration of
the ground, General Hardee fell back to the first
and main line of the enemy’s works, which he
now holds.
‘We captured and brought off 4,000 prisoners,
thirty-six pieces of artillery; also a number of
limbers, caissons and horses, small arms, knap
sacks and canteens.
‘In this brilliant affair, Hindman’s and Clay
ton’s divisions of infantry and Wheeler’s cav
alry are entitled to their share of credit in the
capture of prisoners and artillery.’
Writing ‘from the Army of the Tennessee, At
lanta, July 22d, at night,’ the accomplished and
well known correspondent (F. G. de Fontaine)
of the Savannah Republican, speaking from per
sonal observation, gave this account of the op
erations of that day:
‘A great battle Las been fonght and splendid
success achieved. But the end is not yet, and
for prudential reasons I do not now give you
all the details. To strike Sherman in front
would have been impolitic and disastrous. Gen
eral Hood, therefore, determined to beat him at
his own game, that is to flank his lines.
‘To this end he issued orders after nightfall
for Hardee to move from his position on the cen
tre and with j Wheeler’s c ivalry pr c.ed to the en
emy’s right,march quickly and deal tremendous
blows. His instructions were to strike about 12
o’clock noon. The movement was unavoidably
delayed until 2 o’clock. Meanwhile our lines
had been extended so as to fill our works, and
skirmishing commenced, interspersed with al
most incessant volleys of artillery. Our batter
ies were massed in such manner that those por
tions of the fortifications on which they were
placed were impregnable.
“Hardee and Wheeler, sweeping silently
around the Federal left, pounced upon their
flank and pressed so steadily as to bear down
all opposition. Whole batteries with horses
and equipments fell into our possession, fortifi
cations with frowning abattis of sharpened pikes,
were crossed in the teeth of a murderous fire
while individual gallantry was conspicuous in
the capture of flags and prisoners. Wheeler
with his cavalry co-operating with Hardee, per
formed deeds of valor that have removed every
prejudice which unjustly has attached to their
past career. Charging as infantry they drove
the enemy from one of his lines of fortifications,
burned a considerable amount of camp equip
age, and galled their antagonist at every step.
“In practical results few battles of the war
have a better showing. Hardee captured from
sixteen to twenty guns, and Cheatham’s corps
eight or ten, besides battle-flags and regimental
colors. In prisoners we cannot have less than
from twenty-five hundred to three thousand,'
‘I have the honor to report the following gen
eral summary of the result of the attack of the
enemy on this army on the 22d inst. Total loss,
killed, wounded, and missing, thirty-five hun
dred and thirty-one, and ten pieces of artillery.
‘We have buried and delivered to the enemy,
under flag of truce sent in by them, in front
of the First Division, Seventeenth Corps, one
thousand of Uieir killed. The number of their
dead in front of the Fourth Division, of the
same corps, including those on the ground not
now occupied by our troops. Gen. Blair reports
will swell the number of dead in his front to
two thousand.
‘The number of dead buried in front of the
Fifteenth Corps, up to this hour, is three hun
dred and sixty, and the commanding officer
reports that at least as many more are yet unbu-
ried, burying-parties being still at work. The
number of dead in i'ront of the Sixteenth Corps
is four hundred and twenty-two. We have over
one thousand of their wounded in our bands,
the larger number of wounded being carried
off during the night, after the engagement, by
them.
‘We captured eighteen stands of colors, and
have them now. We also captured five thou
sand stands of arms. The attack was made on
our lines seven times, and was seven times re- \ from feeding. There was some strange sounds
very much to his disappointment, The face of
the Indian girl had charmed him as none had
ever done before her romantic position chal
lenged him to solve the mystery—her care of
him had won his gratitude.
‘Can we not go by the aid of torches?’ lie
asked.
‘To tell her whom you seek where you are,
so that she may avoid you ? The hunter must j wolf"s den ver ever saw
not let the game know which way he is travell- g i ve it ter you,’ and h
ingif he would not return to his wigwam empty- 1 ~
haaded.’
There was sense in the proposition, and the
white man instantly acknowledged it by telling
the Indian to find a sheltered place and build a
fire.
‘Buffalo-Hoof will show the paleface a spot
where the wind cannot blow its slightest breath
upon him, but no light must shine therein ex
cept it comes from the stars. ‘
‘Well, as you please,* and ‘hey crawled in
to a protected nook and prepared to pass the
dark hours.
Lowell was soon enjoying the slumber needed
so much; the Indian, with far more forethought
than could have been expected, having brought
furs with him from the cavern, so as to protect
him from the cool wind. With Buffalo-Hoof it
was different. The many things he had seen
for the last few days—‘things he had never
dreamed of in his philosophy'—required deep
thought. And when the stars began to ‘wink
themselves out, ‘ he sat with his head resting
upon bis knees, pondering and at the same time
listening intently.
Suddenly, however, he started—started, but
noiselessly, as a buck lifts up its mantled head
pulsed. Hood's and Hardee’s corps and Wheel
er’s cavalry engaged us. We have sent to the
rear, one thousand prisoners, including thirty-
three commissioned officers of high rank. We
still occupy the field, and the troops are in fine
spirits. A detailed and full report will be fur
nished as soon as completed. Recapitulation:
Our total loss 3,521; enemy’s dead, thus far re
ported, buried and delivered to them, 3,220;
total prisoners sent North, 1017, total prisoners,
wounded, in our bauds 1000; estimated loss of
the enemy at least 10,000.’
On the fourth ot August, the above report,
without army material modifications, was
sent to Gen. Halleck, at Washington, D. C.,
bearing the signature of ‘W. T. Sherman, Ma
jor General CommSbding,’ thus giving the
highest official endorsement to Gen. Logan’s
statements. They mav, therefore, be considered
coming to his ears, and coming loo from a little
distance. It was not the howl of a wolf—not
the croaking of a bird of prey—not the sough
ing of the wind—ind what could it be but a
human voice?
‘Brother, ‘ he whispered in the ear of his
spleeping companion, shaking him gently at
the Rame time.
‘ What, is it already morning? 1 asked Lowell,
as he rubbed his eyes. ‘It does not seem as if I
had slept more than an hour at the longest.*
‘ Hist! hark !‘ and Buffalo-Hoof pressed his
finger to his lips in token of silence and laid his
ear to the ground.
‘ What is it? Did you hear anything ?‘ asked
his companion anxiously.
‘Listen, your ears are younger than mine. 1
‘ But not half as sharp. Yet I do hear some
thing. By heaven ! it is a human voice ! Can it
as presenting the J>?eral view, of the losses. { be possible that the trapper has fallen and in-
rion VJI-inrnion in ms 4 * WPfflrt irs * flinu A „ ; >,..1 L: if 11 _ i - . . i _ n.
Gen. Sherman in his “Memoirs," thus refers to
the reasons why Gen.'Logan was not continued
in command, as the successor, by rank, of Gen.
McPherson: ‘Gen. Logan had taken command
of the Army of the Tennessee by virtue of his
seniority, and had done well; but I did not
consider him equal to the command of three
corps. Between him and Gen. [Frank P. Blair]
there existed a natural rivalry. Both were men of
great courage and talent, but were politicians
by nature and experience, and it may be that
for this reason they were mistrusted by regu
lar officers like Generals Schofield, Thomas, and
myself.” Gen. Thomas remonstrated warmly
against the appointment of Gen. Logan, and
Gen. O. O. Howard was selected as the best offi
cer who was present and available for the pur
pose,’ and his appointment was promptly rati
fied by President Lincoln.
Atlanta, April 3d, 1878.
A number of the charitable Atlanta ladies are
very earnestly canvassing ways and means to get
the funds necessary to build a permanent Benevo
lent Home in the city. The building used is not
adequate to the increasing needs, and not supplied
with proper conveniences. Many contributions
are promised in aid of this highly deserving char-,
ity; and we have no doubt the energy and perse
verance of the ladies will be rewarded by the
erection of » building that will be a credit to the
City.
Rev. John Bean, of the Methodist Episcopa
Church, died in Baltimore, March 12, aged 84
years.
jured hisself, or the little one?
•The catcher of beaver sleeps by the camp
fire, and the papoose is in the mother’s arms,*
was the confident reply.
‘ Then it must be the woman we are in search
of. Come, let us go. ‘
‘It is her; but the moccasin of my pale brother
must fall as light as the snow-flake,’ and the In
dian cut one of the skins into strips and bound
it, far outwards, around the feet of his compan
ion and himself.
Slowly, very slowly, and cautiously, they
crept along the descending path, for it wasany-
But this she would not permit. Either deli
cacy or some other reason forbade her doing so,
and' upon her whispering a few words to the In
dian, he instantly seconded her request that she
should be left alone.
‘She had already dressed her wounds,’ he said,
as if in interpretation of her speech, ‘and it
would only injure her to disturb them. Even
ihe young among my nation early learn ot the
Medicine-Man, the simples of the wood. Does
my pale brother remember how she tended him,
when the hot lips of the fever spirit were drying
up his blood ?’
‘Certainly; but can we find no better place for
her to rest, for I presume we must remuin here
until morning. Thank Heaven, that is not very
distant.’
‘And the little cave he first showed to the
catcher of the beaver and the red man ?'
‘With a rifle-shot, I should say. Come, let us
carry her there.’
‘The paleface is weak—Buftalo-Hoof strong;’
and he picked her up as if she had been a little
infant, and carried her down the rocky path.
Once within the cave, he laid her gently on
the bed, and covered her with skins. Then he
lighted a tire, and found a cup, and, going
abroad, gathered some roots and barks, and
steeped some tea. This the wounded woman
drank, and soon fell into a quiet and healthful
slumber.
Then Lowell began to question about her,
though it was but little he could learn. She had
given no account of herself, so the Indian said,
but was only faint from loss of blood. In the
morning she would be better.
‘And what do you think of her now ?’ asked
he.
•She is a—woman !’ was the puzzling answer,
and it was accompanied by a still more puzzling
smile.
‘Then you do not think that she is part
wolf?’
‘She is a daughter of the Dacotahs.’
T judged that you had altered your opinion,
from the manner in which you treated her.’
And so it was indeed. From the very first
word the wounded woman had spoken, all of
fear and superstition had vanished from the
mind of the Indian, and love and reverence
had taken its place. No father could have been
more tender to a daughter—none could have
watched the breathing of a sick child more
anxiously. Had Lowell reasoned upon the fact,
he would have found it difficult to have under
stood why so sudden a change should have ta
ken place in his friend; but he also, was watch
ing tbe face of the sleeper, and trying to imag
ine some clue to the mystery of her being there.
While they thus watched, how different had
been the scene—a holy one—in the little camp
by the swift-rolling river ! An hour afte ther sun
had gone down, when all had given up their
return until the morrow, the voice of the trap
per was heard, and soon after he came bound
ing into the camp.
‘ See what I’ve got!’ he said, holding up a bun
dle wrapped closely in skins. 4
‘A young wolf!’ replied Curtiss, carelessly.
Wal, it orter be fer it comes from the worst
u yer life. Here I’ll
held it towards Mrs.
Curtiss.
‘I do not want it,’she replied, shrinking back
from even the name of wolf.
‘Yer don’t! Suppose yer take a look at it,
and then ef yer don’t want it I’ll go throw it in
inter the river.'
‘ My God ! my child !' and she snatched it
from his arms, smothering it with kisses, and
weeping fitfully. Thank Heaven, they were tears
of joy, for at least once in her life.
‘ Tell me where you found her—tell me what
has become of the rest of our friends?’ asked
the father, after he too had caressed the little
one, and something like order was restored.
‘Wal, it ar er long story,’ and the trapper
tookcare to make it so, dwelling upon the horrors
of the cavern, though forgetting to speak of his
own fears.
‘But what has become of Lowell and Buffalo-
Hoof?' again asked Curtiss, when he had become
somewhat tired of hearing about snakes and
wolves and owls and darkness.
‘ That’s more’n I kin tell. I left them to fol
low ther she-devil, while I brought the baby
home.’
‘And may Heaven bless you for it,’ answered
the mother, who had learned by losing it how-
dear it was to her.
‘ Yes marm, I left them to follow the other
trail,’ and he even blushed to feel how little he
deserved her blessing.
‘But have you any idea where we can find
them?’ asked Curtiss. ‘Even at this late hour
we would go upon the search. ’
‘ Wal, squire, to tell the truth, I neither know
nor wanter. I have seen enough of wolf-women,
and ther dens ter last me ther hull of my life.’
‘But if they are in danger, would you not
either share it or rescue them ?’
* Ef every man I knowed, wear to run his head
inter a big bar-trap and have it taken off, am I
ter do ther same ?’
‘ That is hardly a fair comparison,’ laughed
Curtiss. I see no reason why one should kill
himself et because another has, though I can
see why one friend should help another.’
‘ It’s all tbe same thing. But it hain’t worth
while ter talk about it. Better gin me somethin’
ter eat. This er trampin' over the mountings all
day, makes er man as hungry as er—well, I
rnought as well say “wolf” for I'll be blessed ef I
think I shall ever git them out of my head again. ’
It was no bad comparison of the trapper's when
he represented himself to be hungry as a wolf,
for certainly that much-abnsed animal never
gorged itself with less ceremony. But little at
tention was given to him. He was bo'h able how
ever, and willing to take care of himself, and so
the tired teamsters dozed, and the father and
mother learned from their returned prattler’s lips
the story of her wanderings, and much to their
thing but a safe one in the uncertain light; but j joy found that she had been constantly petted in
every foot they advanced they could hear the
sound more distinctly, and were the more con
vinced that it was the utterance of human lips,
wrung from them by pain. At length the Indi
an paused, and pointing to a little thicket of
scrubby pines, whispered:
‘She is there ! My brother can take her.’
Without waiting for another invitation, Lowell
sprang up from his recumbent position and
dashed forward. Not an instant too soon was
he. The long-hunted had also arisen, and was
striving to escape, even as his band fell npon
her dress of skins. But she had suffered far
too much—was too weak from the loss of blood,
and tottering forward she fell into his arms.
But was she witch or was she woman ? If the
former, then all the wild and wonderful tales of
Germany, even of heathen times, might be true.
If the latter, he telt that he had never held as
fairly-moulded form in his arms, or looked
into eyes more crystal clear in their intense
blaokness.
the place of being abused, as they feared. Neither
had she ever been frightened by snake or wolf
—in fact, had never seen them, as they had been
in an entirely different part of the cave. But
she was too young to explain fully, and it requir
ed all their patience to wait until the return of
Lowell and the Indian—for, disguise it as they
might, there were portions of the trapper’s story
thut they thought very improbable, to say the
least of it,
•Now, squire, ef yer think Ive eat er nuff ’ be
gan Fisher, when he had filled himself almost to
suffocation—‘now, squire—’
Well, I should think you had eaten a suffi
cient quantity for one man,’answered Curtiss,
say^’ a ^ aUgb; but wbat were y°Q going to
‘Only that I’m ready to go with yer, on ther
sarch, jest as soon as yer please, though I fancy
jtU be a mighty difficult job until ther morn-
(Continued to sixth page.)