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THE SUNNY SOUTH,
31 - Suardian - SSlizzard.
CHAPTER V.
WARLIKE.
“But, hark! the far bugles their warnings
unite;
War is a virtue; weakness, a sin ;
There’s a lurking and loping around us to
night;
Lead again, riflemen, keep your hand in.’’
Anonymous
Behind a long line of fortifications on
Whitefont River a strong body of Confederate
soldiers were stationed. Here they had been
inactive for several weeks, while a formida
ble force of blue coats was just across the
river, daily tantalizing them by an occasional
shot at an outpost picket, or a sportive shell
from a battery on a cliff.
Night, cool and quiet settles over the black
fort and the long lines of smoked tents, in
which lie sleeping the warrior veterans, a
goodly number of the strength and hope of
the Southland cause. While a sentry on the
outer picket line treads cautiously his beaten
track, lest the breaking of a twig or rustle of
the dry leaves may expose him to one of
those deadly reminders. Hark! what was
that? He was sure he heard a footstep,
and raising his rifle he stood prepared for im
mediate action.
“John,” called a familiar voice, “don’t
fire, I wish to speak to you.”
Lowering his weapon, John Grayson re
plied, between clenched teeth, and nerves
quivering with suppressed anger:
“Villain! seducer! murderer! How dare
you speak to me?”
Still advancing, while he shook his fur
cloak like a great, shaggy dog, Colonel Man-
field replied:
“John, my boy, you were reared to observe
the golden rule, which says, ‘Do unto others
as you would that they should do unto you,’
irrespective of what others are, or may have
done.”
“Never mind, my training, sir. I could
wish I had never been born while I see, hear,
or think of you. Say what you came to say
and be gone. I should be sorry to deliver you
up to justice, not on your own account, but
for, the sake of »*ar f( ynfe . and son. , But I
* n you u> , ^or I vVill noC l£mg en
dure your presence for any consideration.”
“You would like to see your sister, John.”
“No,” shortly. “And if what you have to
say relates to her, I advise you to leave it un
said, and go your way, for we can have no
mutual interests.”
“Do you know where she is?” asked the
colonel, in his calm, deliberate way.
“I suppose she is still at Tom Moore’s,’
John replied.
“Which proves that you know nothing of
her whereabouts, but I can enlighten you,
for she is at this minute at the house of a
woman known as “The Blizzard,” not a
dozen miles from here. This woman, a re
puted termagant, took Rosa from Moore’s
house by sheer force. What motive prompted
her to this, I can not conjecture, though it
was probably an exaggerated idea of the
liberal price I would pay for her board and
keep. I think we had better see after Rosa,
and as I dare not show myself, I desire you
to go and tell Rosa to meet me at McClenald’s
Ferry, six miles below this point to-morrow
night at twelve o’clock, where a boat will be
in waiting to convey her to comfortable
quarters.”
“I will not do your errand,” said John.
“You have severed the paternal and filial
bond between us, and henceforth can claim
nothing of me but the most intense hatred.
And once more I bid you go, and if you do
not, I will deliver you up to receive your
dues at the bar of civil justice.”
At this moment there was a trampling of
feet, and the clatter of arms, as the officer of
the guard came to relieve the weary senti
nels. And between pale lips set with indig
nation, John articulated :
“Go!”
With a hiss of “ingrate!” and a muttered
imprecation faintly audible, Colonel Mans
field disappeared in the darkness.
John was glad the officer did not see him,
for bitterly as he felt towards him, he could
not bear the thought of seeing him suffer the
penalty of his crimes. For aside of the agony
it would cause Mrs. Mansfield, his kind foster
mother, he felt, but would not acknowledge
even to himself, deep down in his heart, a
feeling of pity, regret, or perhaps, both com
bined, for this man who had taken the three
helpless orphans to bis home and heart and
made them forget that they were orphans.
Taking a mental retrospect of days far back
in his happy childhood, John was so wrought
by conflicting emotions as to be unable to
sleep the two hours allotted him before the
sound of the morning reveille.
Anxiety on his sister’s account also "dis
turbed him. He wondered why she had
changed her abode, and what sort of person
“The Blizzard” was, not a pleasant compan
ion, judging from the name; so he would try
to get leave of absence for a day, and go and
see how Rosa was situated, but he would on
no account give her a hint of the colonel’s
wishes in her behalf. And as he could not
show himself within the Confederate lines,
he was not likely to find means of communi
cating with Rosa. In the midst of his sad
thoughts the drum sounded the morning roll-
call.
Mr. Acord had by the exigencies of war
been forced to leave his cozy fireside and fall
into ranks with many of his neighbors. He
was the orderly sergent of Company C, John’s
company ; therefore, he it was who called the
roll. As the last name was pronounced and
responded to, he, with John Grayson, turned
to re-enter their tent, saying in his genial
way :
“You look tired, John, did they keep you
on duty all night?”
“Oh, no,” replied John, “I was relieved
in due course. But I do not feel well this
morning. I think I will ask for a day or two
of absence, till I shake off this cold.”
“No chance for a furlough now, I fear, but
you may be more fortunate than I was, as you
have never had one. We married men are
always wanting furloughs, which makes it
harder for the boys, when they appeal. But I
will do all I can for you, by recommending
you to the captain.”
“Thank you,” said John.
After breakfast John took his rifle outside
the tent, and began to rub and brighten it;
while thus occupied, he noticed his fellow-
soldiers gathering into groups along the
streets between the rows of tents, and talking
in excited tones as if something unusual was
on foot. He overheard one remark that sever
al couriers had been seen going to and from
the general’s quarters.
Presently he heard one of Company D,
say :
“See, boys, they have gone up to take ob
servations. No use trying to dodge, we are
in for it this time 1 ”
Looking; in the direction . ipdicji^fed* * Tohn V
saW General S. wUh some c'f his stAff-officers ‘
ascending a bluff which overlooked the river,
where, with their field glasses, they scanned
the enemy’s lines on the opposite bank of the
river.
Soon afterwards Colonel D. called out:
“ ’Tention, battalion !” and the captains
and orderlies repeating the order, a long line
was soon formed, which after “’bout facing”
several times, marched off in perfect order
down the river.
John Grayson had participated in several
skirmishes, for being a sharp shooter his
place was in the van, but up to the present
time he had not witnessed a regularly
“pitched” battle. Nor did he boast of a wish
to do so, but in all that long line of warriors
there was no heart that beat with a steadier
motion than his, as they marched with punc
tilious order to meet the foe, and probable
death.
The Blue and the Gray.
Both, men and women are apt to feel a little
blue, when the gray hairs begin to show. It’s
a very natural feeling. In the normal condition
of things gray hairs belong to advanced age.
They have no business whitening the head of
rrm.n or woman, who has not begun to go
down the slope of life. As a matter of fact,
the hair turns gray regardless of age, or of
life’s seasons ; sometimes it is whitened by
sickness, but more often from lack of care.
When the hair fades or turns gray there’s no
need to resort to hair dyes. The normal color
of the hair is restored and retained by the use of
Ayer’s Hair Vigor.
Ayer’s Curebook, “a story of cures told by the cured.”
ioo pages, free. J. C. Ayer Co., Lowell, Mass.
CHAPTER YI.
LOST.
Hope was but a timid friend;
She sat without the grated den,
Watching how mj fate would tend,
Even as selfish-hearted men.—Bronte.
Mr. Washington, after traversing several
countries, and satisfying himself by actual
obsevation of the unparralleled fertility of
the land along Red River, staked his claim,
and with his party set forth on the return to
the camp at Thurengen.
On the fourth day of the return journey
they were surprised by a detachment of
soldiers who probably mistaking them for
deserters or Federals, gave chase. A hard
race of short duration ensued which resulted
in victory for the emigrants, for their horses
being much the best, they outran the soldiers’
bronchos. But alas ! on looking around after
halting at a safe distance from their would-be
captors, they discovered the loss of their
guide Jack. His steed being a broncho had
been outstripped by the marauders. This was
most unfortunate, as they might as well be
prisoners in a grated dungeon as alone on the
boundless, unmarked prairie.
On pulling up to let their tired horses
breathe, Mr. Washington looked back, and
with dismay on his countenance said:
“Poor Jack has been captured.”
“Yes,” responded Mr. Lee, “his broncho
could not keep pace with our horses. What
shall we do?”
„ “We had better go to his rescue,” said
Tom. “See, those rascals are only six, all
mounted on bronchos. We can easily overtake
them and recover our guide.”
“That,” said his uncle, “would hardly be
expedient. Six against three might be too
much for us. Besides our horses are blown.
They will not hurt Jack, the worst they can
do with him is to take him to camp and
detain him a few days, nothing worse can be
fall him. ”
“But what is to become of us?” asked Mr.
Lee. “If we had only returned the same way
we came, we might, perhaps, have found
our way back to a settlement, but with this
forest on one side and a trackless prairie on
the other, we might as well be in the Great
Desert. And I fear we must live on nuts and
coyotes for some time to come.”
“I move,” said Tom, “that we separate,
ride round, and attack those dare-devils front
and rear with our revolvers, and liberate our
guide. My horse can outrun them ten miles
to four now. Come, let me dash ahead and
meet them, while you and Uncle Andie at
tack them in the rear. It is the only thing
we can do, father, what do you say?” he de
manded imoatienjtlvf.
“It 'will ’never dc.„” said fiis tatner. l‘A3
peaceable citizens we can not engage in a
quarrel with soldiers, it would bring the en
tire military force against us. If Jack were in
imminent peril the case would be differtnt,
but, simply for our convenience, we must not
attack them. No, my son, we must try to
guide ourselves—or better remain lost than
have blood on our hands.”
“Yonder,” said Mr. Washington, (point
ing westward), “is the setting sun, and we
know that is west. Now, if we can calculate
the direction of the river from Freeman's
ranch, I think we may be our own pilot back
to Thurengen. Favor us with your opinion,
Tom. I always thought you could see as far
into a rock as the next one.”
“You want my opinion on how far a rock
may be seen into?” asked Tom facetiously.
“On the direction of the river from Free
man’s ranch,” said his uncle smiling dryly.
“Well,” rejoined Tom, “I’d prefer giving
an opinion on tangible moonshine, for in that
case, I’d have something to touch as well as
see, but of directions in this wild waste, I
know no more than the man in the moon.”
“Nor I,” said his father.
“Well,” said Mr. Washington, “we must
move on, and trust to our lucky star, to guide
us safely. If those meddling rascals had not
turned us from the true course, we should
not have approached this timber, for I re
member that Jack said our road back led over
plain and prairie.”
“We will trust to your guidance,” said
Mr. Lee. “Strike out as you think best, and
we’ll follow it you lead us to perdition.”
Acting on this, Mr. Washington started,
keeping near the timber, as he said, tor old
acquaintance’s sake. Thus they traveled a
mile or two when they were startled by the
report of a rifle a short distance off in the
timber.
Alarmed and surprised, they stopped.
“Can it be that we are near the river for
tifications?” asked Mr. Washington.
“I can’t say whether it is a camp, a fortress,
or a Choctaw village,” returned Mr. Lee.
“But it is certain that somebody fired that
gun.” “Keep still and let’s listen,” said
Tom. For the thought of a Choctaw village
made him uneasy.
They stood for some minutes listening,
their eyes in the direction whence the sound
had proceeded. Presently there was the
crackling of brushwood and a rustling of
dried leaves, and a red deer sped rapidly past
them.
“It must be a gang of Choctaw gallants
on the chase,” said Tom uneasily, as a vis
ion of tomahawks and scalping knives darted
through his brain.
“No,” said his father, who, instead of
watching the flying deer, was still scanning
the forest, “it is a solitary white man, and
he is coming toward us. Now our troubles
are over, for of course, he can direct us some
where to somebody. And they, in turn can
direct us farther on, till at last we shall reach
our haven.”
The man came on with hasty strides. He
was short of stature, broad, and brawny, with
bristling red hair, small blue eyes, and his
face distinctly pock-marked. Coming up
panting and perspiring, he exclaimed:
Where is he? He must have yailded up the
ghost roight here, for I faixed a thrue aim,
and pulled with all me moight right between
his anthlers. Ond it stands to raison that he
couldn’t a run far with a rifle carthridge in
his cranium.”
“Is it the deer you are speaking of?” asked
Mr. Lee, much amused by this old phnom-
enon, with his Irish brogue.
“Faith ! on what ilse should it be but the
deer that I’ve shot with^me^owngood ri
Y is, indade,’'itTS - tni<rdee<4fc«mia^fea^feer I?
has been to me. Deluver him up, ye spal
peens, or whin I foind him mesilf, I’ll wear-
out his anthlers on ye !”
“The animal fled past us over the prairie,”
said Mr. Washington, with difficult choking
down a disposition to laugh, and speaking in
a grave tone.
But laughing unrestrained, Tom said:
“It was a doe, and had no antlers. You
must have aimed at some bare branches of a
tree instead of antlers, for the deer was cer
tainly a female. And I predict that it will be
a long time before you can add to your list
accomplishments that of Nimrod, son of
Erin.”
“Faith ! ond ye’ve hit the nail squarely on
the hid. Ond is Tony Maroney, a thrue son
of ould Erin that’s iver riddy to give a nin-
comopop his due jus the same as the divil !”
“And it’s me,” said Tom, hastily dis
mounting, and seizing him by the collar,
“that can make you swallow your taunts if
I am a fool.”
“Who tould ye so?” vociferated the Irish
man shaking him off, and appealing to
the two older men. I lave it to the two
gintlemen to decoide that I niver spake the
worard. ”
You called me a nincomopop, which means
the same,” said Tom a little sheepish, as he
saw the laughter twinkling in the eyes of his
two seniors. And you shall retract it, or
I’ll choke you blue!”
“Faith ! ond the young gintleman’s audi
torium meatus nades clearing out, or he’d
niver so misconstrue me meaning. For in-
dade, I mint only the most civil respict. But
if to.retract manes the same as recant it comes
aisy to me, seeing as a tindency runs in the
blood, for it was me own great-grandfather,
pace to his sowl, as I’ve been tould that re
canted more than once in the days of Fox’s
book of marthyrs. ”
Joining in the laugh which followed this
speech, as the best way out of the ridiculous
plight he had thoughtlessly rushed into,
Tom’s equanimity returned. And remount
ing his horse, he said :
“Well, son of Erin, if you will direct us
to Freeman’s ranch, wh’ll be quits.”
“Faith! ond I niver diricted onything save
the scalpil, the morthar ond the pistle. Thase
I can dirict as will as me ould preciptor Mc-
Kinzie himself.”
“I perceive you are a physician,” said Mr.
Lee.
“Ond small wonder is it that ye can per-
caive so much, seeing as I’m the only one in
thase paits. It was a thrue saying what me