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About The weekly banner. (Athens, Ga.) 1891-1921 | View Entire Issue (Oct. 25, 1892)
- Wa Dam. ■ irl!IM I fiMMllte ed with the .aide, Bt « • ST 1 f Athena Banner, Sit. 1832. ATHENS, QA., TUESDAY MORNING, OCTOBER 25,1892. $1.00 A YEA R —J KING'S PRISONERS. I.ovc In his net hu taken us and bound us. Hath pinioned hands and feet right fast wltlitn; jnir Master's mesh of gold goes round and roun 1 ns Cunningly wrought, and fairy One and thin. To hold ns in. 0 Love divine, 0 larger Love, coroe take os. Weave thy sweet net outside our house of love; 1 ’risotiers of Love, O lxivo4ivine, coroe make os. Caught in thy snares and seeking not to rote Outside tliy love. " —Katharine Tynan. hunted by a hound. ,. eater is xnadt” *V cod’* 1 v k jj st -it the tall Texan apprehen sively fused him there was still a chance for me, bat it was a slim one. With a tre mendous effort 1 broke forward on my little figure glided through the hall; — , , “I* that you. Pot?”—the words came tenderly: last ran. This time 1 wonld reach the (.A sob—suppressed to lot the answer fall- hill or tarn at the last moment and die, ^ * snt Eet, mamma; it's only me." ONLY ME. •Are you certain?” I asked. ‘•1 know it. I had my suspicions yes terday and now there is no doabt of it.” This whs serious. The man eater was the k.r^ost and most - ferocious blood- hound iu Texas. It was hard enough to eonirol him at any time, bat mad—I shuddered at the thonghtl NIv week's visit at the Bolton ranch had satisfied me that my host really cared for only two things in the world— his daughters and the man eater. “Where is Miss Sallie?” 1 inquired anxiously. ••Oh, that’s aH right,” replied Bolton carelessly. “Sallie took her pony and went off for a ride an hour ago, and the hound if. safe enough. 1 took him by the collar just now and locked him up where ho won’t get at anybody. But it breaks me up, old fellow; I wouldn’t lose him for anything.” * My interest began to weaken. Mis9 Sallie was safe, and the dog was locked up. What was a bloodhound to me? If the savage monster died, so much the Utter. 1 walked off to the Btable. A ride over the prairie was not to be missed ou such a morning, and there wonld be a chance of riding hack with Sallie, But I was doomed to disappointment. My horse was lame. It did not take long to convince me that somebody had been riding him the night before. Just :hen Pedro came in sight. The ugly little Mexican gave a start when he saw me and looked away. “You yellow rascal!” I shouted; “you hail my horse last nightl” “No, sehor.” "You are lying!” “No, by all the saints, senor.” “Then whore were you at midnight?” “1 was attending to my business,” snapped Pedro. Ho looked so viciously mean and so impudent that I gave him a light cut with n»y whip and told him to get out of my sight. He muttered something and slunk off. There was no other ani mal that 1 cared to ride, and 1 made up my mind to walk. 1 had left the ranch several hundred yards behind me when 1 turned and looked hack. Even at that distance 1 could plainly recognize Pedro. He was walking around a little cabin hack of the kitchen, and was apparently peep ing through the cracks. "Looking at the man eater,” I said to myself. “It is a good thing the beast is locked up." The bracing morning air and the level prairie stretching out before me for miles tempted me to take a long walk. A long way off 1 could see a hill, the only one iu all that flat country. Why not climb it and see what was on the other side? Perhaps Sallie was over there. So 1 walked on with swinging strides for a couplo of miles. Suddenly I came to a dead halt. “That sounds like the man eater’s bark!” 1 exclaimed. Again 1 heard it and stopped a moment. For an instaut my muscles were par alyzed—I was absolutely unable to move. A thousand horrible thoughts rushed into my mind. If this mad bloodhound was on my track my case was hopeless 1 could not get hack to the ranch; there was not a tree in sight and the hill was still miles away. What was to bo done? 1 summoned all my strength and mado a run at the top of my speed. 1 kept on as long ns 1 could, and then pansed to rest and listen. The man eater was com ing my way, hut not mnch faster than 1 could rtm. I resumed my flight. Would a mad dog have his usual keen instincts about him? Would he pursue the trail or be come confused and give it up? These thoughts inspired me with a faint hope. If the dog’s slow progress enabled me to reach the hill, where there was timber. 1 could climb a tree, or pos sibly he wonld he missed and his master would ride in pursuit. From one point where there was a gentle rise in the prairie I could see in the distance a moving speck. It was the man eater steadily follow ing my trail! My surmise turned out to be partly correct. The animal seemed to be at fault. Ho would stop and run hack a few yards and branch off aimlessly in every direction. But this did not last long After a series of eccentric move ments the hound wonld get on my trqgk again and rush forward. He was gain ing, and my chances of Teaching the hill began tc look gloomy. For the next fifteen minutes I did some good running, bat when 1 turned to cast a backward glance I could see the dog more plainly than ever. One thing encouraged me; he did not appear to see me, but blundered on in a clumsy, dazed sort of way. There were no streams to cross—noth ing that would throw him off the scent. I had no weapon, only a small pocket- knife, and a fight with a mad dog was out of the question. My strength was giving out, and I felt that the end was not far off. When 1 again looked back the dog was not more than 800 yards away, and the base of the hill was still a mile off. A spasm of terror seized me, but to uiy surprise the great brute suddenly ■at down on his haunches and howled plaintively. It was a minute or two be fore he found the trail again. If his malady had dimmed his sight and cou nt aking a vain effort to choke the mon ster. The blood rushed to my head, and I could hardly see anything as i darted on at the top of my speed. The hound was rapidly making head way, and at last seemed to have me in view. A glance over my shoulder showed him not a hundred yards be hind. Everything was in a whirl. Some body was riding out from behind the hill and coming my way. The hat, the riding habit—I could not be mistaken—’ it '/as Sallie Bolton. But my race was nearly run. Even with help in sight I could bear up no longer. The girl was riding like the wind, and 1 could see that she had a lasso in one hand. I knew that this cattle queen, as the cowboys called her, could do anything almost with a lasso, but would she get there in time? The man eater came bounding on, and Sallie rode straight at him like a little thunderbolt. - She whirled the lasso over and over around her head, and—but it was too late—1 could hear the dog pant ing behind me! A wave of darkness rolled over mo as I fell to the gronnd. just as 1 heard something swish through the air. But 1 was up in a minute—just in time to see my rescuer give a pull that tightened the lasso around the >log's neck. A few convulsions, and the dog was strangled—dead within six feet of me. My thanks were cut short by the appearance of a light wagon driven by one of Bolton’s neighbors, who offered to take me hack to the ranch, an invita tion not to be declined under the cir cumstances. Sallie Bolton rode on ahead, and when 1 reached the house her father was waiting to congratulate me upon my escape. “It was Pedro’s work.” he said. “He unlocked the door and set the dog on your trail—at least, I think so. He had a key, and he has disappeared.” Undoubtedly it was Pedro. He had been trying to pay me back. I have never 6een the Boltons since my adventure with the man eater, but 1 am not likely to forget the little cattle queen while I live.—Atlanta Constitu tion. The quivering baby lips—they had not qaeant To utter any word could plant a sting; But to that mother's heart a strange pang went— She beard, and stood like a convicted thing. One instant, and a happy little face Thrilled 'ueath unwonted kisses rained above; Vnd, from that moment. Only Me had place Andpart with Pet ia tender mother love. A ROBBER’S PRIZE. AT REST. The Funeral of Mrs W. A. Kennon Yesterday. From the chui oh iu whioh she wor shipped as a child, in which she moved »s a young maiden, and t:> whose up building she gave the best efforts of h* r life, the body of Mrs. W. A. Keanor. was borne fertb by loving hands. The remains arrived on the Macon & Northern train at, 12:35 o’clnc’- a;.d accompanying them were Mr. W A Kennon, Mrs. A. E. Grady, Mr. W S. Grady, Capt. and Mrs. H. T. Ken non, and Mr. M.G. Nioholson. They were met at the depot a bwff*- number of relatives and friends au<> from there to the First Methodis church the solemi procession moved. At the church the Juvenile Mission ary srciety had met as a body and each little child had brought a b >uquet o flowers to lay upon the casket of ouc who in life h-d loved them sli mo t dearly. The church was crowded with friends who had come to pay their last •ad tribute to the mentor: of the de p irted one. Asthecisket was borne forward ti the chanctl, Rev. T. R. K ndall read the burial sir vie jof the church, and then the choir sang sweet ly, *‘We Shall Reach th^ Summer Lind.*’ Dr. Kendall readthr 90th Psalm and a portion of the lifteent’- chapter of Corinthians and offered a most touching prayer. The choir then sang “Asleep in Je sus,” and so tender .y and sweetly did tbe notes fall upon theearrof those pret ent that few dry eyes were in the con gregation. Dr. Kendall preached one of the truest and most be&utiiul sermons eeer heard on such an occasion. He re- ferred beautifully to the Divine, prov - donee speaking to us through a cloud of sffl ction, yet always m-king mauifes the presence of a bow of promise. His tribute to the loving trrits cf character {.o-stssed by the deceased was beautiful and touching, and though his praise was lofty, it was not too gr i-<t for one 801< uly good, and gentle and gemrous- and loving. ... The choir sang the recessional hymn. “Shall we gather at the river?” anil the sad cort« g« moved slowly to Oconee o metery, wu«re beside her chivalrous and patriotic father, who met death bravely on the field of Petersburg in defense of his country, this daughter, possessed of so many virtues, was ten derly laid to kbl For a little while, h«r living rela tives and friends must give her up—but not forevir. For just ahead there breaks the dawn of the eternity into which all must soon go; and at the pst(ly portals she waits to welcome be friends and loved ones home. Contract Let.—We ream that the contract for a three-story building fronting on Clayton and Washington streets has been given by T. Fleming <fc Son to Frank Stapler for the brick work and Watson Bros, the woodwork. This will be one of the handsomest buildings iu tfce city. Work will com mence in a short while. A GOOD OPENING. A well-established Livery Business for sale on easy terms. Gann & Reaves old stand, Thomas street, Athens, Ga. Address, J, M. Barry, Pro’p. It was no wonder 1 loved her; the won der would have been if I had not—iso lated as we were, shut out from other society or diversions; I young and sus ceptible, she queenly and fascinating. She was two years my senior. She had been a belle two seasons, and, dis gusted in the midst of the third, ran away to my aunt’s to recruit and forget. She was tliero when 1 came home from school at the summer vacation. I was twenty, she was twenty-two, and we spent all those lingering scented sum mer months in the same house. 1 dare say she never thought of anything so improbable as my falling in love with her. Her look when 1 confessed the state of my heart said all that and more. The regal head turned languidly on the crim son cushion against which she reclined, and she regarded me with a moat pro voking, steady incredulity in her beau tiful face. The full, finely cut lips quiv ered with suppressed smiling. “Does any honest love deserve to he laughed at, Miss Ruth?” I questioned, with a half angry tremor in my voice. “Certainl / not,” said Miss Ruth. “1 dare say you are honest enough, but you’re not old enough.” Ruth Bonange sank hack among her cushions, convulsed with laughter. 1 stood meanwhile, every nerve tingling, passions of anger devouring me. “Miss Ruth,” I said, “I am waiting for my answer.” “You ridiculous Steve, haven’t you got it?” she said, sitting up and staring at me. “Yon won’t laugh the next time I tell yon 1 love yon, Miss Ruth," I said to my self as she gathered her silken draperies around her and swept into the house. “A gentleman in the parlor to see Miss Bonange,” 1 beard the one servant my aunt kept say. Miss Bonange was lounging the morn ing away in my aunt’s room! She seemed to hesitate two minutes, nervously pull ing to pieces the card Peggy had brought her, then with her proudest mien swept from the room. Stepping through the window I care fully gathered the fragments of tom pasteboard from the carpet and put them together on tho palm of my band. “Richard Dunkirk, Esq.,” was what 1 read. “It is her lover!” My brow throbbed at the thought. Tho door slammed. “She is coming,” 1 thought, and fled to the veranda again, just in time to hear her voice in tones of expostulation answered by another’s, icy with sternness. Hers said haughtily: “1 would never marry you were 1 thrice as much in your power as I am!” “Who then?” was the response in ac cents of slow sarcasm. “No matter, so it is a man more man- ly than yon.” 1 could hear her quick drawn breath and the angry rustle of her dress as she moved away from him. It was coward ly to stand there eavesdropping. I felt so, but I set my teeth and staid. “If I were a man,” I heard her say presently, “1 would force you to yield me my property.” “Your property! These are mine- made mine by yourself, a free agent.” “What will you do with them?” “Present them to my wife on my wed ding day, or, that failing, to your hus band on yonrs.” I conld have sprung into the room and throttled this cowardly threatener of a woman, but instead I slipped a sash of the veranda, and, leaping down among the flower beds, hurried out of sight and hearing. Half an hoar after 1 saw a handsome, rather distinguished looking man stalking through the gar den path toward the road. 1 made a turn anfi met him. The distinguished lock chanced to be a sort of daredevil recklessness of air and manner as I ap proached him, and he seemed decidedly out of humor. I lifted iny-Tiat courteously as we passed; he did the same, with a half im pudent stare, turning to look after me as 1 sauntered np the walk. 1 found Richard Dunkirk, Esq., an gling in the trout stream below the house the next morning. I angled, too—not for trout, bnt for his acquaintance. .He scowled at Bight of me, bnt I baited my hook cleverly and presently he became civil. I saw that he was trying to dis cover who I was and my relations with Miss Bonange. We separated with apparent mutual pleasure in each other. We encountered again the following day, qnite like old acquaintances, and I invited him to dine at my aunt’s. He gave a sort of startled stare, but assented. It was too good an opportunity to be lost. “An acquaintance of yours, I believe, Ruth,” I said simply as I care lessly announced to her and my aunt that Mr. Dunkirk had come to dinner. Mim Bonange had seemed ont of sorts for a day or two. She gave me a half desperate look at the announcement. “You see lam not jealous, Miss Ruth, 1 1 sgid in an undertone. “Yon are certainly generous,” she re plied coldly. I was half of the opinion that she wonld not come to dinner; but she did. We were on the whole quits ’a pleasant party. Dunkirk spent the evening, father at my solicitation. Once or twice 1 saw Miss Bonange change color at something lie said, bnt she staid in the parlor and. maintained her ease and r-—■— *—— cheerfulness exceedingly well. He of fered a hand at parting, hut she shook her head. He bent toward her then, saying something in a whisper that made her faoe whiten. Glancing into the parlor as I passed, after seeing Dunkirk out, I saw Miss Bonange standing as he had left her, hands clasped behind her, and her beau tiful face expressive of a hopelessness and despair that smote me to the sonl. The look gave impetus to a half fbrmed, altogether wild scheme I had in my brain. In my chamber I hastened to lock the door and change my light clothes for dark ones. 1 adjusted a plain inask to my face, selected from several old hats the most battered, took a tolerably stout walking stick in my hand, and, swinging myself down from my window outside that the household might not discover my absence, set forth. By taking a short-cut, which I was sure could not be known to Richard Dunkirk, Esq., I reached a certain lonely spot, as I hoped, before him. He came in sight presently, sauntering along in the moonlight; I waited and wondered if Richard Dunkirk, Esq., was the cow ard I took him to he. Just as he came opposite me I leveled my walking stick, resting it as I would a musket aersss a convenient stump, while I called in As deep a voice as I conld muster: “Halt for your lifer Mr. Dunkirk muttered au oath, hut he stopped stock stilFkn the path, with a What is it you want, fellow?” “Step there into that strip of moon*, light. Be so good as to deposit the cou* tents of your pockets upon the ground.” He hesitated, bnt I shifted my walk, ing stick slightly, intimated that I was in no humor for trifling, and he pro ceeded to obey me. There were a knife. a watch case, asil* ver toothpick, a few loose coins, a shrunken pocketbook and a collapsed parse, and there he stopped. “That is not all,” I said sharply. With a groan he took ont a small par cel. ‘All, upon my honor, but this, which cannot possibly ho of any value to any one bnt me; they are merely letters.” ‘Allow me to he the judge of that,” 1 answered. ‘/Put them down.” He laid them down upon the ground with the rest., ‘Pass on,” ^as my next order, and he marched off past my wooden gun in safety. I did not wait for him to get more than beyond view before I had the con tents of pockets in my hat and was steering for home by the short cut. 1 waited a week in some trepidition to see what would chance. Much chanced in that time, hut no Richard Dunkirk, Esq. Possibly he felt unequal to meeting Mias Bonange’s clear, penetrating glance under the circumstances, or he might have suspected her of some connection with the robbery, especially as every thing excepting the letters (the cndgel included) I had caused to be expressed to him from a distant city. Miss Bonange evinced a little wonder ing anxietf at his disappearance, and looked incredulous when 1 announced his departure from that vicinity. She was sitting in the old place, half reclining among the cushions she liked, when I came softly beside her and laid the avails of my highway robbery in he* silkenlap. She slipped the cover that hound them, her beautiful lips quivered, her face whitened. “Did he give them to you, the dastard! But better you than he!” she flashed. For answer I told her all. “And do you know the contents?” “Nor wish to.” She began to tremble; her eyes filled with tears. “Please to read them, Steve,” giving them lack to me. “Do you want to preserve them?” 1 asked, taking out a match. “Shall I dc Btroy them?” “Not if—I have fallen in your good re spect, Steve.” “My good respect is nothing to yon,' I said coldly. “If it were I would prove to you that you had it by telling you over again the tale you laughed at not so long ago.” And I touched the letters with flame. “1 should not laugh now,” she said humbly and looking down, while a faint color flickered on her cheek. “What would you do?" I demanded. She shrank a little, then lifted the beautiful eyes to mine and said: “I should say if you were of the same mind two years from now” “You would be my wife?” “Yes.” She is my wife now, and I have nevei regretted my one robbery.—C. C. in New York News. BY THE SEA. At morn beside tbo ocean's foamy roar I walked soft shadowed through the luminous mist. And saw not clearly sea or land, nor wist Where the tide staid, nor where began the shore. A geo .’e De.ii.-ard wind came down, and bore The •-«ut ri [,ns nd of beyberry; And through tbe great gray veil that hid the Broke the ;>ale ana—a silvery warmth—not more. So through the fogs that cover all this life I walk as In a dream 'twlxt sea and land— The meadows of wise thought, the sea of strife— And sounds and happy scents from either hand Come w ith vast gleams that spread and softly shine The joy of life, the energy divine. —Archibald Lampnuvn in Youth's Companion. A Story About Blaine. New York, Oct. 22.—A story was published in the afternoon stating that James G. Blaine had formerly placed himself at the disposal of the republican national committee/ and that-he would make three speeches during this cam paign. An Associated Press reporter saw Mr. Blaine at 2 o’clock and called his attention to the foregoing statement. Mr. Blaine said that it was absolutely untrue, end that he had not placed him- self at the disposal of the Republican na tional committee. SINGING RIVER. Scottish Bite Masons’ Next Meeting. Washington, Oct. 22.—The supreme council of Scottish Rite Masons for the southern jurisdiction voted to hold the next meeting in 1894 in St. Louis. Va rious propositions looking to an amalga mation or the sotithera and northern ju risdictions have been submitted aha it is thought likely that the union will take place, hut how soon cannot be pre dicted. A petition from Cemeau Scot tish Rite Masons praying for recognition was unanimously rejected. Directors Meet.—The Directors of the North Eastern Railroad met on Fri day. Nothing was done only to ad journ over to their regular meeting which takes place the 19th of Decem ber, It was late in the sixties. Auer a perilous, tedious and fruitless journey to the upper Kootenay, we had decided to return eastward over the trail already known to us rather than try to reach the Pacific over an entirely un known route, beset with extraordinary danger and hitherto almost untraveled. Our party was fairly well organized, considering the fact that were mere ly on a prospecting trip, led out by many stories of fabulous strikes aud rich dig gings. Wo were as sorely disappointed a lot as ever started on a back trail. Not even a decent color did we find on the weary way. Seated abont the camp fire that evening, Bill Tapper, our guide, finally broke the silence, which had lasted for over half an hour, as every man felt too keenly, the disappointment of returning empty handed. 'See here, hoys,” said Bill, “here ye sit inopin and mopin, night after night, over matters as can’t be helped. It’s hundreds of miles back yonder to the diggins in Alder gulch, which is es far es ye kin git this season, Darrin no mis hap. Thar ain’t no use stayin heer, and if we don’t be movin soon, snow will ketch ns in the hills afore we kin get across.” The force of the argument struck home. It aroused us all from the usual after supper lethargy which we were accustomed to drop into. To he caught on the main range of the Rockies in midwinter was a prospect so horrible and uninviting that we determined to lose no time in getting started for home. We concluded to devote one day to hunting and supplying the party with fresh meat, to prepare a lot for the trip, and then be off. Game was plentiful ir. that nncanny region and we found qo trouble in getting all that we wanted. On the following day we started early, and after a wearisome march reached the summit of the continental divide safely. Early fall had set in when we began the ascent. We had taken the lower route, the one used by Lewis and Clarke in their expedition to the Columbia, and now known as Mullan pass. This would bring us to the neighborhood of Last Chance, which was in its primeval in fancy when we left the far off settle ments. r ^ v Our stock of breadstuffs was running tow, and it was necessary to reach some camp as early as possible. The scenes we passed through for beauty and sublimity beggared all de scription. Occasionally a scared bird would rise hastily into space as our col umn came winding down the trail, which was so narrow as to compel us to ride Indian fashion—one behind the oth er—with the pack animals in gronps be tween ns, thus making conversation during the progress of the journey im possible. It is doubtfnl if any of the others paid heed to the attractions of the country. Silently the cavalcade wended its way down the steep trail. The whole looked so uninviting and dangerous that invol untarily each man looked to his fire arms and all drew as close together as possible while we rode on, and many a pipe was stowed away in the pocket of its owner. It stood us in hand to he careful, as the Indian did not look with great favor upon the inroads the white men were making upon his hitherto un disputed domain. Many a venturesome prospector had left the settlements be* . fore ns and had never returned, leaving his bones to bleach in the sun and rair until found later, if ever, by others fol lowing in his footsteps. Danger lurked even in the doseet proximity of the set tlements, and the unwary could never tell when the blow might fall. Eternal vigilance was the price of life. The sun was setting. It became evi dent that we could not reach Last Chance before dark, although we could see the smoke of the camp, as We were on mnch higher ground. We were now leisurely following the course of a small stream unknown to ub. Arriving at a small tableland, we decided to pitch camp there for the night, for we were tired and hungry. Camp was soon ready and preparations for- a hearty supper were quickly under way. No accident had befallen us thus far, and while consuming the meal with raven ous appetite the boys soon found their old time humor, and many a good Btory was dished up for dessert. After sup per the animals were picketed in a clump of hushes near by. The evening was perfect. The boys were idling about the tents. A few. were playing cards; others were stretched out in the luxuriant grass, busy with sky gazing, perhaps thinking, of home and friends a good many miles away. BUI Tapper hud wandered away to wards the stream, and we conld see him in the twilight, seated on a huge bowl der, near the water’s edge, listening in tently to something. Then he walked up the stream, and returning walked down the stream. At times he halted, and once, he stooped and placed his ear to the ground. Suddenly the sound of horses' hoofs was plainly audible, and while Bill was running hack to camp, revolver in hand, a stranger came dash- I tog up, looking more dead than alivj. Behind him and clinging to hixa was a woman. The horse looked jaded, and both riders were nearly worn out. We asked them to sit down and rest, but the man answered at once: “Cap tain there is no time to lose. Rather get your shooting irons ready and look to your animals. Yon see, we were camped down the creek a distance of about five miles. We could 6ee the smoke of your campfires all the evening. We were right iu thinking this a white man’s camp, os the Indians hardly ever use green wood. There were only three of us—my partner, his wife and myself. About two hours ago we stopped to get supper and get the camp ready for the night. While we were eating there came the crash of rifles. My partner fell over dead. A bullet struck my arm, but the woman escaped. “We didn’t stop long, hut I put her on a horse, jumped up myself and made a dash for your camp. The posts were os the other side of the stream, which gave us some advantage. But look out, for it won’t be long before they will be upon ub. They don’t know yet that you are here, and will try to capture us. Let’s give them a warm reception when they come. If you have an extra gun let me have it, for I want to get even with them for the killing of my part ner.” Here was news indeed. Having come so far unmolested we did not anticipate any trouble from Indians so close to the settlement. However, we got ready for them. The animals were brought in closer. Each man looked to his guns and ammuni tion, and a double line was formed for action. — It was indeed not long before the red devils appeared on the opposite side of the stream. They were not a little sur prised to see a considerable body of armed men ready to fight, and naturally hesitated to make an attack. Darkness was now setting in fast, and care had to be exercised to prevent them from crossing the stream and making a night attack. But we counted on the early rising of the moon, now in its full, and decided to fight it ont by moonlight, if any fighting was to be done that night. A few wild shots were ex changed without doing any damage on either side. We had extinguished our campfires, thus taking away any ad: vantage the Indiaps might gain by their light, "ife noticed the redskins moving a little further up stream, as if trying to find a more suitable place from which to attack us or to cross the stream. Bill Tucker laughed and said, “Watch out for some fun now, boys.” We failed to Bee any fun before us. being unable to determine the number of our opponents. They might be too many for us, and possible extermination is decidedly anything but funny. But suddenly the Indians gave one unearthly yell, and by the light of the rising moon we could see them ohsh away over the rolling prairie to the east. * , • Bill laughed again. “I reckon as what these pesky devils won’t trouble us any more jess now,’’ was all that he said. Curiosity prompted everybody to find out the cause of their hasty flight and of Bill’s positiveness. He hade us come with him and listen quietly and care fully. When near the stream a peculiar sound could be heard from several direc tions resembling the ringing of a thou- sand bells at once. At tunes the tones would become weaker and gradually die away with a peculiar noise resembling a »deep drawn moan. Then they would increase again in strength, becoming more resonant and distinct. Mystified, we looked about us for an explanation of this strange phenomenon, but failed to find one. Bill finally ex plained that the sounds were produced by the waters of the stream running over the peculiar rocks in its bed. Ther® was an old Indian legend of a “singing river” that predicted death for all who camped on its banks. There had been quite a massacre among warring tribes in that vicinity, so goes tradition, which made the “singing river” dreaded by all the red tribes thereafter. But it had saved our lives, and we lost no time in reaching the settlement after the sun had risen over the hilltops.—Louis De Lestry im Romance. SErajpu. | Fearful Explosion of a Gas Pip# Loaded with Powder. *1 AND ALL FOR FUN. ^ The Terrible Ending to a Columbus Day Celebration in a California j Town—Injuries to Others May Prove Fatal Los Angeles, Cal, Oct. 22. — A frightful explosion attended the Colum bus day celebration here. A large num ber of people including many children had crowded around the spot where preparations were being made to ex plode a six inch gas pipe loaded with powder. I The contrivance exploded prematurely and caused deadly havoc. Seven pen- sons were killed outright or received in juries from which they died soon after wards. "A number of others were seriously in-1 jured. Theodore Rapp was near by holding his two little daughters by the hand. Both girls wore instantly killed. The dead are; Frank Ford, aged 14) Agrita Cohen, aged 8; Louis Oden, aged 13; Antonio Raghetto, Victor Casino, two daughters of Theodore Rapp. j Herman Oammet and B. B. Bunker received injuries that will probably prove fatal. j AS OLD COMRADES- Bow tho Gray and the Bine Mingled Together on Columbus Day. I Atlanta, Oct. 22.—An incident which goes far to illustrate the real feelings of fraternal regard existing between the men who at one time were arrayed against each other in deadly conflict took place here on Columbus Day when the lines were being formed for the pa*, rade. ; Upon the suggestion of Captain John Mjlledge, who is an ex-Ccnfedsrato, and was chief marshall of the day, It was arranged that the Confederate Veterans should escort the Grand Army men to their places in the ranks. Whdh the committee' of Veterans announced their mission at the doors of the Grand Army men, they were requested to re turn to their command and invito their comrades to visit tne hall. The invita tion was accepted and the Grand Arm£ men vied .with each othor in extending courtesies and kindly greeting to their visitors. After a formal reception with ‘arms present” by the hosts their rimks w%re broken, and mutual courtesies and evi dences of friendly interest exchanged. General Walker proposed the senti ment, “Comrade^—north and south-® peace and fraternity to ourselves and our descendants po\V and fore vet.” This was adopted as the motto of the occasion, and then the two commands marched to their respective places ana took their stand in line. WHELESS TALKS. Atlanta, Ga., March 20 1892. Dhab Sir:—I am confident that the Electropoise purchased from Mrs. Rhodes cured an old wound received in battle in 18P3. The wound became very troublesome, necessitating tbe use of crutches for very nearly one year. I am happy to Bay I am almost entirely well. My wife has used the Electro- poise very succefssullylfor neuralgia. She has been a great sufferer. She is in better health and weighs more than she has for years. My opinion istbeEleo- tropoise made bsth cures. Respectfully, J. H. Kktnbr. 12 J£. Alabama St. Captain Carter says: Having used tbe Electropoise four or five months, I can pronounce it a decided success. Having been afficted with general debili ty, I have received great benefit from its use. Medicine could not have done it, for I used none. I now sleep sound- y and eat freely. I have also been troubled with partial sunstroke, but now the prickly sensation on my left side is gone, and the costiveness accom panying it is wholly removed under tho treatment of the Electropoise. James F. Carter, Real Estate, No. 28 Peachtree St., Atlanta, Ga. For all information, Ac., address At lantic E ectropoise Co., Atlanta, Ga. He Never Stole the Mute and Did not Shoot Until He Was Down. ANOTHER ATTEMPT. Mr. J. C. Wheeloss was in the city yesterday. He is a brother of the man shot in Oglethorpe a few days ago while the sheriff’s posse was trying to arrest him. He says the posse came to the front door of his father’s house and hal loed. My father asked who it was, and the posse said, “Come and fee.” The same question waB asked and answered two or three times. My sisters and bro ther knowing the voice of Sheriff Winn my brother said, “I will go out at the baok door. I don’t care about him see ing ms.” My brother was let out of the back door and as he walked out on the steps he heard some one walking around the corner of the house and he tamed to go back into the house, and the pistols commenced firing on him As he turned b-ck he waB shot in the right side just under the arm. My sis ters were at the door and tbe bullets tore the door and facing into piece? After my brother was wounded he said “I am shot,” and drawing his pistol commenced firing aud the posse raaand oame back next day and arrested bim, and carried him to Lexington j dl. Saeriff Winn says he did not order tbe posse to shoot at my brother, and all of tbe officers commanding the dif ferent possees acted very gentlemanly. My brother says he never stole the mule that he is accused of, and the re port is that the mule he is accused of stealing was stolen two weeks before be left borne. The Prisoners Again Try to Break Out of Jail Sheriff Wier has a desperate set of prisoners in jail, and they do every thing in their power to again breath the free air. When they tried to break out a short time ago and failed tbo sheriff moved them all to tbe middle cells, thinking that this wonld keep them away from the outer wall and break up their intentions of getting out. This, however, proved to the con trary, for as soon as they were moved to the middle cells they went to work to break through the sides of the cell and get to the hole they had made in the wall on a former trial. Sheriff Wier is always on the look-out for these desperadoes, but could find no evidence of them tryiDg to get out until a few days ago, when he carried all of them into another part of the jail and examined the cells in which they had been confined. Here be found that saws bad been used on the iron bars of the cell and good wo bad been done in sawing the and making a hole large enough to le them into the next cell, where the hole had been made through the wall. Sheriff Wier is now thinking of j chaining them down to the floor in < ferent parts of the jail, which will no doubt fctop the sawing operation. The detectives have all left the field and up to the present time no clue i been found to the CaUoway murde \fri: . • <•
