Newspaper Page Text
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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:
.
• <•
