Newspaper Page Text
GALUHERS INDEPENDENT,
PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY AT
QUITMAN, A.,
by
J. C. GALLAHER.
TERMS OP SUBSCRIPTION *
tWO DOLLARS per Annum in Advance.
■ ■'l ■L.-'L ■■■■■
-DIM VIVIMUS vrvAmß. w
In the youth of the heart, ere the glorious ray
That was born of life's morning has faded away:
While the light lingers yet in the eyes that are
dear.
And the voices we lore still reman with us here:
While the wine is yet red, and the stars are still
bright.
Aud the winds and the waves bring us music by
night;
While the warm Mood leaps tip when the forests
resound
With the tread of the horse and the bay of the
hound
Oh ! ever and always, as long as we may,
*As we journey through life, let us live by the
way.’*
I>t ns live! tn the power to enjoy that is given,
The earnest on earth of the glory ofheaven.
In the courage that ever, in mirth or in sorrow,
Has strength for each day, and a hope for each
morrow:
With smiles for the future, though tears for the
Audrey in the hours that steal from us so fast*
For the friends whose brave spirits have gath
ered around us,
For the love whose bright blooming tendrils have
bound us.
Though cloud or thro* sunshine encompass the
day,
"As we journey through life, let us live by the
way.”
When the world has grow n old, and the night
stars st last,
That rose in the future, have set in the past,
Have that hrigheyt of all which is guiding us ever
To the beautiful country beyond the dark river;
When we pause at the end, and look thoughtfully
back
Through the change and the chance of the long,
Weary track,
It will cheer the old heart to be ablo to say,
"As we've journeyed through life, we have lived
by the way.*’
C LEFT ON A SAND REEF.
BY BLUE .'A.KKT.
It was a lucky day for you, Bunting,
When you shipped with me as mate ou
Umrd the Curlew. Why, our shares out
of this alone will he fully forty thousand
dollars. Then pur trading trip ou the
eoust of Africa will roll mi at least ten
thousand more.’’
“But seriously, Captain Madden, you
do uot ioteud to appnpriate to your own
n*e and the crew what you have this day
obtained from the dismantled hulk of the j
Notre Dame ?”
“Do not intend to appropriate ?” roared
the astonished captain, as he settled back
in his chair and eyed his mate sharply.
“Why, what the devil do you suppose I
am going to and all the valuables i
buck aboard of the old craft, and let her
sink ?”
“No, sir; there is no occasion to do
that. But the silver and gold plate, the ;
jewelry and precious stones can be restored
to the wrightful owner. You have tile
name and address af the gentlemen, so j
have I, and we would justly claim salvage.
But to keep tile property, with tbe facts
iu our possession, would be robbery, and
pnnishrthie by luw.”
“Bo that is your opinion, is it Mr.
Jack Bunting? Now listen to mine. Ift
the first place, we discovered this old wa
ter-logged craft floating about on the
broad Atlantic with bo live men aboard to
dispute ottr right of possession. The l
craft was deserted, hud been given up to |
her bite, and if we bad not boarded the j
Norte Dame she wotdd have soon gone to ,
the bottom with all the valuables, ami they
would have beeu forever lost, so far as
tlieir usefulness is concerned. As it is, j
we remove the riches that the owner aban- ■
doued, tbe old craft succumbs to fate and ;
circumstances, the Norte Dame is re
corded as lost at sea, and we are the sole j
possessors of the secret."
“Your argument, Captain Madden, does ;
not change the fact that we knew where to
to return the property that had been j
fond. The simple fact of your wrest- j
iug the valuables from the depths of the j
ocean, as it were, does not by any means '
make them yours or mine. They must be
returned.”
“Must l>e returned I" ■ exclaimed the
captain, turning pale with rage, “What
do you mean by using the word must to
me." I alouo am in authority aboard of
the Curlew, and I shy that uot one penny
shall go out of our possession. If your
Conscience troubles you,l will see that your
share is properly distributed. I do not
compel you to take any portion of the
prize.”
'•>*o mad has the power to make me
steal,” replied the mate, his dark eyes
flashing with indignation as he returned
the an augry glances of the captain.
“Beware, sir; do not tempt me too fnr,
or you’ll rue the day that you ever ran
foul of Tommy Madden,” hissed the cap
tain) his swarthy features abl&Ze with pas
sion.
“Nonsense, Captain Madden. lam old
enough and capable of looking out for my
self. Had I known that you had been a
slaver, I would never have sailed with you.
8 avers are no better than pirates; they
sail under much the same flag; and, so
far as your inclinations are concerned, I
have no" dcrabt but what you would like to
take my life, provided you could do so
without fear of detection. I know too
much for your future welfare,"
“You do know too mneh, you cursed
down-easter,” yelled the Captain, “and
thns shall your knowledge perish with
you,” and, with a movement like light
ning, he whipped out a dirk, directing a
blow at the young man’s heart. But the
blow was never completed, the clenched
band sank slowly to bis side, and the ex
slaver shrank back, baffled and beaten at
all points. The mate bad been as quick iu
his movements as his superior, and with
the flash of the knife blade came the glit
ter of revolver pointed full at the rascal's
head.
“Have a care. Captain Madden, or there
will be a coroner’s inquest liefe. These
are dangerous tools to play with, the more
so when the amusement is not confined to
one party.”
“Put up your revolver.” at last ex
claimed the captain. “It is useless for us
to fight, and equally impossible for you and
I to sail together. * You must leave the
Curlew.”
“Just what I intend to do, sir. We are
within twenty-four hours’ sail of the coast
of Africa, and I will land on the first con
venient point.”
"Very well, As long as you remain, I
presume you will continne to discharge
yonr duties as chief mate.”
“If you desire it, sir,” was the reply;
and, withont answering, the captain left
the cabin, and repaired on deck.
The Curlew was a sharp, clipper
schooner, owned and commanded by Cap
tain Thomas Madden, engaged in the Af
rican trade. Gold-dust, ivory, ostrich
feathers, and gam wore the principal ar
ticles for which the captain traded. Ho
had t'rtm.d slaving rather too dangerous t
(iallahcr’s Inbepeniimt.
VOL. 11.
follow, although he had run a number of
cargoes successfully. He was a man of
strong, vindictive passions, with no scru
ples of conscience—one who would strike
in the dark when he found it unsafe to
confront a foe.
Jack Bunting hod accepted the berth of
mate on board the Curlew, for toe sake of
the high wages offered by Maddeu. They
were total strangers, having met by chance,
aud tbe ex-slavcr rejoiced in having se
cured the services of so fine a seaman and
navigator. Buntiug hailed from Cape
Ann, and had not lost the teaching and
precepts of a mother who long since lmd
reposed in the quiet village graveyard.
Strong in his convictions of right and
wrong, the mate would not swerve from
the course he had selected, though death
stared him in the face.
The shades of night were rapidly deep
ening, and the steward of the Curlew bus
tled about the cabin, busy in preparing
tlie evening meal. The tramp of many
feet on deck, mingled with the harsh tones
of the captain's voice, attracted Bunting’s
attention, aud somewhat surprised at the
1 unwonted bustle, he slowly ascended the
i steps leading from the cabin to the deck.
“Seize him, my lads, down with the
traitor; he would rob you of your hard
earned dollars,” shouted Maddeu, and al
most before be was aware of his danger,
the mate was securely bound by a number
of the lawless crew.
“What means this outrage, Captain
Maddeu ?”
“It means, my conscientious friend,
that I am about to dictate terms to you,
and if you make any fnss I'll tickle your
ribs with this,” and the ex-slaver again dis
played his kuife.
"You are a coward as well as a scoun
drel, tlieu. Well, 1 could not expect much
from one of your east. What do you pro
pose to do, murder me ?”
“Not exactly, unless you stir up my bad
blood. The crew have been informed of
your iutentions in regard to our prize.
The boys object to your mode of settle
ment, and think a whole loaf is better t han
half a one. They propose to pitch yon
overboard as the easiest plan of getting rid
of you; but I am disposed to be more mer
ciful You shall lmve a chance for your
Life, and I advise you to make the most of
it. Iu the first place, I will relieve you of
this,” aud the captain inserted his hand
into the mate’s pocket, drawing forth his
revolver.
“ 'Tis well you thought of it, for if my
hands were free I would rid the world of
six scoundrels, you among the number.”
“Thank you, but I can afford to be
charitable. But I waste time. Luff, my
lad.” And the captain moved liis bund to
the man at the wheel. “Ease off the fore
sheet. Haul the jib sheet to windward;
so that will do,” and the cutter shot up
into the wind, ranged ahead then re
mained gracefully rising aud falling upon
the swell of the ocean.
“Now, Mr. Bunting look sharp or you
may regret it. Do you see that, faint dark
steak to leeward: there where those guns
are congregating ?"
“I see it,” was the brief reply.
“Well, it is a sand bunk, and many n
time have I sighted it. On this occasion
I propose to leave you there and I trust
you will find the companionship of the
gulls more congenial than that afforded
by the Curlew’s crew.”
Bunting made no reply. His eyes were
fixed upon the low bank of sand, over
which a number of guns were wheeling
and screaming. “Cast him adrift and
carry him to the gangway,” commanded
the captain, and once more the mate lmd
the free use of his arms.
“I am sorry I cannot give yon a boat,
Mr. Bunting, but you will not mind a
ducking."
“No, sir,” replied the mate, "I can
swim, thank God; and mark my words,
you cowardly rascals, all of you we, shall
meet again;” and plunging head foremost
from the low rail of the schooner, the
mate struck out for the narrow strip of
sand. It was quite darlrwhen no reached
it and by the pale light of the moon he
could make out the glimmer of the Cur
lew's sails in the distance.
Bunting watched the schooner out of
sight,; there was no fixed purpose in his
mind, and his thoughts were vague and
unconnected. Finally, rousing himself,
he walked over the narrow limits of his
prison, and found that a small portion
was uncovered at high water mark.
Throwing himself down at full length, he
remained motionless, either plunged in
deep thought or wrapt in slumber. The
sea birds circled and swooped about him,
mingling their discordant notes with the
lap, lap, of the water breaking continu
ously along the beach; hut he moved not
until the warm rays of the sun were
glancing merrily on the golden saml.
The heat, as the day advanced became
intolerable, and in vain the unfortunate
man sought relief from the rays of the
sun. His month was parched with thirst
his tongue clove to the root of Ills month
and his sufferings were intense. Slowly
the hours passed by, and the mate paced
slowly to and fro.
A (lead calm rested on the ocean! its
surface was smooth as a mirror; all nature
appeared to be hushed and subdued. The
shades of night brought relief, and he
moistened his burning month with the
dew that fell copiously. Casting his eyes
around the horizon he noticed a bank of
of clouds that were rapidly assuming
mammoth proportions. Above the entire
firmament was obscure by a thick impre
vions gray mist, and low murmurs was
heard as if there was wind stirring aloft.
The air was heavy, the darkness increased
with each moment, and Banting, aware
that a war of the elements was at hand,
watched every change with more than
nsnal interest.
Occasionally a whirl of air would ruffle
the dark frowning ocean, and strange,
whizzing sounds darted through space,
followed by the deep, heavy rumbling of
thunder. Louder aud louder grew the
distant mutter, a broad, flashing line be
came visible beDeath the overhanging
cloud sweeping the entire horizon, and
then the hurricane burst in all its fury
upon the deserted man.
Lying at full length, Bnnting felt the
sand and spray fly over and about him
in showers, the waters roared about him
breaking with fearful force upon the sand
bank. The. tide, nrged on by the hurri
cane, almost engulfed the island, and
every moment the young man expected to
be torn away aud perish. But all through
the night, lie listened to the fearful tumult
around him. and as daylight dawned the
hurricane gradually subsided. The shriek
of the gale was no longer heard but the
sea thundered incessantly along the beach.
A dark, shapeless mass, rising and fal
ing iu the trough of the sen. caught the at
QUITMAN, GA., SATURDAY, MAY 30, 1874.
I tention of Bunting. It was a vessel dis
j masted, and drifting directly on to the
| Hand-bank. He could render no aid, and
! with silent horror beheld the wreck strike
The wild waves overwhelmed the hulk,
hastening to complete their work of de
struction.
Body after body Was washed ashore, but
Bunting could disoover no signs of life in
them. The shattered remnants of a spar
plunged through the breakers, to which
was hushed tlie body of a young woman to
gether with three men. bushing into the
surf, Bunting exerted his failing strength
to the utmost, and a hard struggle suc
! needed in rescuing them from the under
tow which swept out with terrible fores.
His efforts were erowued with success; the
i four that he had rescued still retained the
breath of life, and slowly recovered. They
were the sole survivors of the wreck.
The lady’s name was De Wolf, aud
Bunting started in surprise as he heard it.
One of the three men said ho was the mus
| ter of the shipwrecked vessel, which had
been dismantled iu the hurricane, and the
other two men a portion of the crew.
Bunting related bis story, or ns much of it
, as he deemed necessary to account for his J
presence and the sand-bank, and was lis- j
tened to with deep attention.
The beach was strewn with fragments j
of the wreck, interspersed with boxes and
bales of cargo, barrels of beef, pork nnd I
bread, casks of water, and numerous other
articles, The half-famished mate helped
; himself to both food and water, and then i
took the lady one side while the rescued j
! men by his direction commenced collect
ing the ensks and barrels, with a view of j
constructing a raft.
“You say your name is De Wolf ?” in- !
quired the mate.
“Yes, sir. My father is a frenchman, and j
engaged in business on the Gaboon River. j
He is on the point of leaving the country
and returning to l-’rance. A large portion
of our property was forwarded by tlie
Notre Dame, and I took passage in Le
Glorie; but our poor vessel was lost, and
but for your aid my poor father would
hae been childless. My mother died when
I was a child.”
“You mention your father—where is
he ?”
“On the Gaboon River. He is to start
for hqme shortly. AH our valuables were
directed to tlie care of our agent iu Bor
deaux. ”
Without further hesitation Bunting re
lated to the astonished lady the fate of tlie
Notre Damn and the disposition that had
been made of her father’s hard-earned
property. “The Curlew is bound up the
Gaboon River, and if we can reach the
main land we will have the rascals in u
trap. ”
The lady was almost overcome by the
misfortunes that had assailed her, but
rallied, and her dark eyes flashed with
rage and determination as she thought of
her father’s property iu the hands of such
unscrupulous men.
The captain of the Le Glorie was let
into the secret, ami promised to lend his I
aid together with that of his men to recover
the valuables.
The work of building tbe raft was pushed
forward, and by nightfall was ready for
launching. Tlie sea hud gone, down, the
breeze was moderate and favorable, and
with plenty of provision lushed securely,
the party set forth on their perilous way.
Bunting assumed charge, and spreading
their iUsettiug sail the cumbersome raftj
lumbered slowly through the water. The j
mate shaped his course by the stars by i
night, nnd steered by the wind during the '■
day. Fortune favored them, and on the
third day the low laud of Africa was j
sighted. Skirting along the coast, the
high laud of the entrance to the river fi- 1
nully greeted the excited guze of tlie lit- j
tie party.
A landing was effected, the faithful raft
was exerted, and traveling through the
jungle under tbe guidance of Miss De Wolf
they finally reached her father’s trading
post, well nigh exhausted with the tre
meudious exertions tlief had made.
Monsieur De Wolf was speechless with
surprise at the sudden appearance of his
daughter and her male companions, but
his surprise was soon replaced by rage as
lie learned the fata of the Notre Dame and
his portion of the cargo. The excited
Gaul danced around the room, unable to
control his passion us lie realized the great
kiss be sustained, but gradually grew
calmer as Hunting unfolded a plun to wrest
tbe prize from the ex-slaver.
The Curlew was at anchor a short dis
tance up the river übove De Wolf’s resi
dence, and it was determined to make at
tuct that night.
Delay was dangerous, as at any hour
Madden might take it into his head to
leave the river, *
In the Frenchman’s house was an abun
dance of arms of all descriptions, and the
prrty made a selection from the little ar
mory. A crew of natives manned a canoe.
De Wolf with his daughter occupied the
stern sheet, while Bunting with the French
captain and his men were all stretched in
the bottom of the boat covered with mats.
The negroes kept time to their paddles
with a rude but musical clmnt, atld the
heavy craft was urged rapidly through the
water. The river was dark and silent save
the occasional splash of an alligator, or
the subdued roar of some beast of prey
! roaming through the depths of the jungle.
Soon the harsh voice of Madden was
heard hailing the boat demanding their
purpose and wants. De Wolf replied say
ing he had a prime lot of feathers which
lie was anxious to dispose of in addition to
a lot of gum in the storehouse. They
were invited aboard by Madden, and the
Frenchman accompanied by his daughter
accepted the invitation.
An hour passed slowly by, Bunting gave
the word to his companions to follow him,
and under cover of the darkness they stole
silently abroad. The men, exhausted by
the labors of the day, were sleeping about
the deck ’neath tho shade of the awning,
and were secured to a man. Bound and
gagged, they were rendered harmless.
Then with a swelling heart Bunting ap
proached the cabin.
The Frenchmen followed close in bis
rear, anxious to witness the denouement of
the affair. The mate stood iu the door
way and surveyed the scene before him.
Madden was sitting with his back to the
cabin door facing De Wolf and his daugh
ter, who. of course, saw every movement
of Bunting and his supporters.
“You were speaking of the Notre Dame,
Monsieur De Wolf. Were you interested
in her?”
“I should say I was. The bulk of my
property is, or rather was, on board of
“O, indeed. You say your property was
ou board of licr. Is it not there now V”
and the keen eye of the slaver glanCltd
hurriedly from father to daughter.
"Well, no, monsieur, I believe not.”
“Where is it then
“In your state-room," replied a deep,
hollow voice, that caused Madden to leap
from his chair and glance hurriedly over
his shoulder. The tall, commanding form
of Bunting met his gaze, the pule count*
nnnee and dark eyes staring at him with a
fixed, stony look that filled Madden's
sonl with horror. His knees smote to
gether, his head spun round, a deathly
faintness seized him, and the ex-sluver
fell insensible to tbe floor.
“Ho far so good,” exclaimed Bunting,
“The rascal images lie has seen my ghost.
Secure him, Hud then for the last act of
the drama.”
The anchor was soon slipped, and,
dropping down with tbe tide, the Curlew
was soon abreast of Do Wolf’s residence.
The negroes worked like beavers, the re
mainder of the Free possessions
were brought on board, and tbe canoe, as
it shoved oft' for tlie last time, contained
the crew of the schooner. Maddeu, how
ever, remained on board. His hour had
not yet come.
Before daylight the Curlew was careen
ing to the fresh, invigorating sea-breeze,
and nil hands were in the highest possible
spirits.
Bunting bad revealed himself to Mad
den, who preserved a sullen silence,
brooding over the unexpected change that
had occurred in his fortunes.
Once more the Curlew was hove to, with
the low saud bank close under his lee.
The ex-slaver stood in the gangway
with Bunting by his side, while the re
mainder of the schooner's company formed
n semi-circle about the two men.
"Captain Madden, do you seo yonder
sand bunk. I remember it, and ahull to
my dying day. But a short time ago I
stood in your present condition, and was
forced to swim for my life. You expressed
a wish that I might find the company of
the gulls more congenial than that on
board of the Curlew. I can now return
the kindness. Jump, Captain Madden;
plunge into the ocean, and when you reach
yon sand bank, when "ho fierce rays of the
sun causes your brain to boil, when your
tongue hangs parched nnd swollen from
your mouth, when your breath comes in
dying gusps, turn to your God for aid if
you dare call upon Him, nnd may your
conscience bo ns clear as mine wits when
you drove me to seek refuge on tbe same
bank. Jump,” and with the word followed
a splash.
The Curlew filled pwav, and tho fleet
vessel bounded lightly over the curling
waves. The sunny laud of France was
readied in safety, and Monsieur Do Wolf
with his daughter were landed, together
with the treasure. Boon after the Curlew
wus destroyed by fire, and Bunting, richly
rewarded by the grateful Frenchman, took
passage in a steamer for his native laud,
followed by the prayers of those lie had
befriended. •,,
Tbe fate of Madden call fie easily imag
ined, but to the uninitiated his death and
mysterious disappearance was always
wrapt in mystery.
The Fort Valley Mirror says: “Thursday
we saw on the street eight or ten lean,
ragged, half-starved negroes all the way
from Cold water river, Mississippi, in an
ox wagon. One of the party told us that
they were hired by an emigrant agent
last year and carried Off under promises
of good homes, remunerative wages and
prompt payment of the same. After get
ting them out there, lie refused to pay
them or furnish them with provisions,
and they were forced to do jobs about for
other farmers to get something to subsist
upon. They left Mississippi January
15, and arrived at this place May 14, being
on the road four months. One of them said
to us “There is no place like sweet home,
nnd ive intend to live aud die in Georgia.”
A plot of ground at Cypress Hill Ceme
tery, Brooklyn, has been presented to the
journalistic fratenity of New York for the
use of such members as may die poor in
the persuit of their profession. The ground I
! is beautifully situated, and has been grate- ]
i fully accepted by the New York Associaton
of Journalists, whose intention it is to have
I the ground graded and decorated, and a
! wall of granite enclose it. It. has also been
j decided to erect a testimonial having slabs '
sufficient to accommodate the names of |
those who may be interred iu the ground.
At an early day the ground will be dediea*
ted with the conventional services, iu I
which H. W. Beecher, William C. Bryant
and several prominent journalists will take
part.
The report of the chief of the Bureau of
Statistics, show that since 1854 nearly ten
million immigrants have landed in this
country. The average immigration during
the past three years has been about four
hundred thousand a year, three-quarters of
whom Were of the Anglo-Saxon, Teutonic
and Celtic races, thus adding to the mate
rial interests of the country a vast creative
nnd industrial power, and weakening that
of Europe in like proportion.
—
The Galveston News says) “The. day
may come when the exports of wheat
j from Galveston will exceed in value the
exports of eotton. Not only the northern
half of Texas is adapted to the production
I of wheat, but the Indian Territory, Kan
sas, Southern Missouri, and much other
territory in the Northwest.
An apple shook its blossoms on the
| earth and made it bright and beautiful,
and yet the tree was not impoverished,
but sootl replenished its branches with
fruit it could not have produced had it re
tained the blossoms. Whoever will, may
make his life the tree, and scatter the
flowers of happiness all over the earth,
X*
Bishop Clark, of Rhode Island, has is
sued a pastoral letter, urging that all the
j chnrches in his diocese take up collections
for the relief of sufferers by the Bouthern
; inundations.
: Never burn kindiy-written letters, the
I mute utterances of those afar, yet dear,
! whose faces you may never look upon
! again. Remember how many alittle notion
1 in tinware they will procure.
One of the hardest and heaviest losses
by the Mississippi overflow for the plan
ters mid farmers to recover from, will be
the destruction of their stock. The St.
Joseph Journal estimates that in the par
ish of Tensas, alone, not less than ftrehun
■ died head of horses and mules have died
from the effects of the overflow, and the
people are too poor to replace them.
Burning of the Dead in Burmah.
Among tlie Karens everything pertnin
ing to death is regarded with absolute
horror. The clothes, books and other
possessions of the deceased uro all commit
ted to the flan cs; nnd any one who should
; knowingly appropriate any Raft of them
would be considered unclean forever.
Even the piece of work on which a man
or woman happens to be engaged when a
dentil is announced to him most be at
once abandoned, and however Valuable or
costly it is never resumed. Thus, a
house or boat in which is invested perhaps
nearly all u poor man’s little fortune; a
valuable web of cloth that Ims cost some
feeble woman mouths of wearying labor;
the harvest of a field Of garden which is
just about to repay the season’s toil and
anxiety, must be all alike consigned to ir
redeemable destruction if tlieir owners
should chance to be engaged on tlieir
work when they see or bear of death.
This copyist and his wife, a worthy young
couple had been since their marriage zeal
ously, engaged in trying to build them
selves a bouse, living meanwhile in an old
one near by. The frumuof the new build
ing was already erected, but funds were
wanting for the its completion, and these
the young couple were earning, the man :
by writing, the woman by wea\ ing, when
death put a stop to their plans. A few
days more would have completed the books
and the cloth, and the sale of them Would
have supplied ample means to finish the
house. But uow the innocent volumes ou
which the patient oopyist had spent long
days of toil must, with the fine cloth of
the poor wife, be consumed by fire, and
oven the frame of the new house w ould
share tho same fate. To touch again any
of them after such a casualty would, in
the estimation of tlieso snrperstitious
Karen r, involve a curse more fatal than
the poisoned tunic of Nessus conveyed to
Hercules, entailing calamity, not only to
the corporeal part, but to the soul through
all future states of being.
In accordance with the Karen custom,
as soon as the young copyist had censed to
i breathe, every pan of tho body, even the
j face, was closely enwrapped in coarse
white cloth, and the corpse laid out on a
j bench in the outer room, where all who
: come in might weep over it. Rice was
J poured down in piles at the head and feet,
together with fruit, tobacco, cigarettes
| and betel-nut: and on ono side of the body
I was placed a basket containing a drinking
! enp, a knife and a spoon, ami some cook
! ing utensils. The spirit of the dead man
was then invited to eat freely ns while in
! the body, and exhorted not to be ashamed;
! whilst uU his deceased friends who had
| preceded liim to the land of spirits were
j urged to return nnd escort their brother
|to liis destined abode. Meanwhile, the
nearest relatives, with the young wife at
their head, crowded round the dead body,
| prostrated themselves with wail and la
mentations, and implored the departed to
return and bless tlieir longing ears once
more with tbe souud of liis familiar voice.
Others sang dolorous ditties nnd chanted
songs iu figurative language nnd in a pe
culiar measure. During the singing a
i large party of friends and relatives engaged
| in a curious game called “Tiger and Fowl,”
1 which, they told us, was designed to sym
i bolize the conflict of the disembodied
j spirit with the powers of the air— t. e. ,
| witches, demons and hobgoblins. Then
i followed in succession sundry marches
I around the bier, fresh prostrations and
more lugubrious ditties, and hot water was
poured out ut the head and feet to supply
the deceased with drink in his new abode.
At nightfall small tapers wore lighted for
a brief interim and placed near the corpse,
while one of near km marched round it to
proclaim to tho dead man the points of the
compass, the tops and roota of the trees,
and other important items of locality, but
always directly the reverse of their true
position, as the Karens believe that the
residence of departed spirits, unless they
are born again into (mother form, is di
rectly at antipodes wjth our earth, which
they hold to be a circular plane. When
these various ceremonies had been com
pleted the lights were extinguished, and
all, they told us, was to remain in stain
j quo for about thirty-six hours, when the
burning would take place. This interval
Was spent by the relatives and friends in
feasting and revelry.
While burning, the body was seperated
by a sort of kiln from the fuel surrounded
it, so as to prevent the mingling of the
ashes of the corpse and those produced by
the incineration of the wood. This pre
caution is always taken where the ashes
are to he preserved; otherwise, all is con
sumed together, and to work of demolition
either case occupies scarcely an hour.
But before the bones have been reduced
to ashes the Karens select a single otic,
usually that of an arm or finger and care
fully preserve it till a convenient time for
bringing the relatives and friends together
again. In the ease of the deceased copy
ist this meeting was to take place four
days.after the burning of the body; and
wishing to see the end, we concluded
to remain in the neighborhood, visiting
Bassein in the interim and returning to
00-twau in time for the concluding rites.
At the appointed time a great feast was
prepared, ceremonies similar to those per
formed over the body were repeated over
the bone, its solitary representative, and a
solemn dirge was sting to frighten off
Mukiba, an evil spirit of whom the Karens
stand in special dread. Then one of the
silver bangles worn by tho deceased on
his wrists and ankle was hung up jimt
over a vessel of cooked rice of which the
departed spirit was invited to partake.
On inquiring tho reason of this ceremony
we were told that if the bangle and the
string by which it was suspended should
remain perfectly motionless this would be
received us an indication that the soul of
the deceased was a prisoner iu hell, and
the party would break up ill dismay. But
if the string should evince a tumulous
motion the bangle turn round or the cord
snap suddenly in twain, the survivors
would see in these tokens indisputable
evidence that the deceased had answered
their call. Fortunately for their credulity
the bangle (moved no doubt by the
passing breeze) did turn suddenly around
and the poor wife with a cry of joy,
pressed it eagerly to her lips. The spirit
was then invited to the grave prepared for
; the bone which was buried with the food
i and clothing the dead man was supposed
i to require in the spirit-land, and money
! with which to ransom himself if he should
chance to be taken prisoner on the way
by any evil-minded demon. The whole
company then clapped their hands throe
times, saying, “Go in peace I This grave
is thy small house, hut thy grand and
spacious mansion is on the cool bank of
the river Mandokawa, where beauteous
maidens recline on beds of fragrant flow -
I era and all is cool, calm, and quiet.”
With this loving valedictory the funeral
rites ended, flha the company dispersed.
The urn containing the precious ashes
was carefully laid away by the liereaved
wife, but tin* grave in which the solitary
lame lmd been deposited could ueVer be
fetlsiteil It was thenceforth nut merely
a spot devoid of interest, but one sure to
endanger the well-being of any rash
enough to approach it, even by nccident.—
f.ijqnncoll't Magazinefor May.
(From the Macon Telegraph and Messenger.]
Burial Place of Gov. Troup and Borne
Reminiscence* of Him.
Brown's Hotel, May 13, 1874.
Editor a Telegraph and Messenger: I ob
serve in the Morning Star of to-day that
a letter lias appeared in the Augusta
Chronicle it Sentinel from the Macon cor
respondent of that paper, giving a histor
ical reminiscence of the late ex-Ooveruo*
Troup of Georgia, and the writer claims
that his remaius repose in the
city of Macon. If the writer of the letter
had known the facts patent to all readers,
or had even examined tho recent excellent
map of Georgia, by Oapt. A. G. Butts, Of
Ms; on, he would not have ventured to
make the statement which I find in the
paper alluded to.
’('lie facts ate the ei-Gotefnof died while
ou a visit to one of his plantations in
Montgomery county, iu April, 186(5, aud I
understood at Valdosta, the day after
lilh death, that lie expressed a desire to
be buried by tha side of liis brother Rob
ert, who had died in 1848, sod was buried
at liis Rose Mouut farm, ut) the east side
of the Oconee river, some twelve or fif
teen miles from Valdosta, the permanent
residence of the ex-Governor. The ashes
of that illustrons man repose by the side
of his brother, Robert Troup, and not
Valdosta as some people crroniously sup
pose, nor iu the city of Macon, as the
correspondent of the Chronicle k Sentinel
would hate the public believe. Thomas
M. Forman, Esq., a son-in-law, was ap
pointed oneof the ex-Governor’sexeoutors,
and not long after the death of tho
father-in-law, lie had tombs of the most
substantial masonry placed oler the broth
ers and surrounded with eostly iron rail
ing, and it is probable that tlieir ashes
will be undisturbed, if uot for all time, at
least for ages to come. Should any oue
be curious to see tho tomb of ex-Governor
Troup, or his “last resting place,” he will
find tlie Rose-Monnt farm nearly equi-dis
tonc between Valdosta and Mount Vernon,
the county site of Montgomery, When
the “curious visitor” slia l reach Mercer’s
creek, a stream that flows into the Oconee
river ou the east side, he will be near the
spot where repose tbe ashes of the illustri
ous Georgian. He Ims only to leave the
old Darien and Milledgeville road, turn
southward, and in a few minutes the ordi
nary place, Rose-Mount farm will break
upon hisvision. If the dwelling on the
farm is as it was in 18£W, the curious visi
tor will find the tomb of the ex-Governor
not more than forty or fifty yards from the
mansion.
Having written tbe forgoing to Vindi
cate the truth of “biography,” I will make
a few additional remarks iu relation to the
ex-Governor as tlie occasion seems to jus
tify it, and premise that if tliete was a man
living whom I knew and Understood Well,
it was the ex-Governor, though this knowl
edge was the out growth of nearly twenty
years of correspondence and friendship.
There was one prominent trait in tlie
character of this remarkable man, and it
was his extreme modesty or a chivulrio
delicacy that made it repugnant to his
feelings to speuk of the part lie acted, not
only iu the political history of the country
but in the transactions of life. He was
free to speak of public affairs, but ho was
unlike tlie statesmen of the present day,
he omitted to speak of the past relating
to himself. Ho was a member of the
two houses of Congress for a quarter of a
century, and I never heard him speak of
any measure that came before tho Con
gresses iu which he spoke of the part
he took and yet he gained a brilliant repu
tation for denouncing the Yazoo fraud.
He was Governor of Georgia four years—
beating Talbot ut the first election,
and Clark at the second, aiid I never
heard him speak of either contest, nor of
any measure that Came before him ns the
Executive of the Ntate, and I doubt if
there wus a man living who possessed a
better recollection of the events through
which lie had passed than he did. Not
many mouths before he died the writer of
this spoke of a duel that occurred iu Sa
vannah between a couple of well known
citizens, in which the cx-Governor was a
second, with the view of learning somo
thing of the cause of the quarrel and the
result. This information was obtained
from the pages of a work on duelling then
just published in Boston. His answer was
extremely brief. It was that the duel Was
fought—that otle of the parties was badly
wounded. He said nothing of being a
second in the affair and I learned nothing
from his statement more than I may have
derived from others who remained in
Savannah the day the hostile meeting took
place on the South Carolina side of the
river. If I ever knew a mau who dis
dained falsehood and chicanery, it was the
ex-Govcrnor, and if I ever knew a man
who was born insensible to fear, it was
he. When I saw Gen. Jessup’s opinion
that Geo, J\J. Troup, of Georgia, was
about the only person at Washington
when the British were marching on the
Capital who was thoroughly composed
and to himself, I felt the truth of the
statement from my knowledge of him
derived from an intercourse of many
; years. A little Incident is sometimes a j
! key to the character of a man, and an !
illustration of this sort occurred one day
I at Blackshear farm in the presence of several
persons. The party visiting were sitting
around the table in the dining room,
j when to the surprise of all, large pieces
lof plastering commenced falling, which
were the thickest and heaviest I ever
! saw in my life. It was only a few seconds
| before the room was cleared of all except
j the ex-Govemor, who remained, though
At great peril it was thought by those
leaving, and such must have been his own
! conclusion, but to fly, to him, to get out
; of the way of danger—it seemed to be
j foreign to his nature, and there he sat, !
and as General Jessup observed seemed to
ibe the only one who was thoroughly j
composed of the party. For the present
1 will say no more. 8.
Josh Billings says, “The live man is
like a little pig; he iz weaned young and
begin to root early. He is the pepper*
! grass ov creation, the allspice ov the
world. One live man in a village is like
a case ov the itch at a distvikt school- lie
, sots everyboddy scratching at oust. ”
MISCELLANEOUS ITEMS,
I The Cincinnati elephuftt that swallowed
two gntlofis of whisky at one gulp say that
j be took it for “n cold.”
A man hangs himself and ‘'nb Settee"
j is assigned, wrietl ctery Ofie ttftfst know
: that the rope was the cuuse.
There is laughter in Chicago lieeaiiso a
Ht. Louis detective wefit there end bad hi*
pocket picked on a horsfi-Wif.
A lady asked a veteran which rifle car
ried the maximum distance. The old
chap answered. “TheMininie, mum."
A Maine debating society is now wftsD
ling with the question: “Is a .Sabbath
school Ntipetihtendent justified in wearing
a red neck-tie ?”
There is a man at Bay Ridge wlioes pedal
extremities are so large that the urchins
fill np his foot-print* with water and sail
boats in them,
A man was boastlttg that be had been
married for twenty years and had never
giVett his wife a cross word. Those hilt)
knew him say he didn’ldnre to.
“Tliis summer ladies are going to dress
their hair as they did three hundred year,';
ago,” says an exchange. This makes
some of the ladles pretty old. f
A young lady will sail in the next steamer
! from Boston for Europe who doesn't ex
i peet to marry a nobleman j another otto
who isn't going to Italy to study music.
A paper at Elgin soys that a man’s social
standing in that town Is graded by whether
he drops a ten-penny nail ora quarter into
; the ohuroh onntribiition-bor.
“I’m so thirsty 1” said a boy at Work if!
a cornfield. “Well, Work away," said his
industrious father. “You know the
prophet says;‘Hoe, every one that thirst
ethi ”
NO. 4.
A hard-motley Congressman condensed
his speech by holding a ten-dollar green
back in one hand nnd a ten-dollar gold
piece in the other, and asking, “which
will you huve? ’
Taking care of a baity sud sewing but*
tons on a Wife's shoes were adduced, in A
trial the other day, as evidence tending to
show a husband's uffection for a wife
whom he subsequently shot.
An Oswego paper descripes a Are by
saying that "the red flames danced in the
heavens afid flntJg their fiery anus about
like a black funeral pall until Ham Jones
got on the roof und doused them out with
a pail of water.”
Impertinent dandy (a stranger).—“May
I have the honor to accompany you,
miBS ?” Coolyonng lady.—“ Certainly: but
keep behind, in your proper place, J dis'
charged my lust footman for ifflpcfle*
nance.”
A Down Easter believes there is noth
ing like advertising. He lost his pocket
book recently, advertised his loss in tho
local newspaper, and nest morning went
down into his own eellarand found it oil
the floor.
A gentleman met U half-witted lad in tha
road, and placing in one of his hands A
sixpence and ft penny, asked him which of
the two he would chooee. The lad replied
that he “wouldn’t be greedy; he’d keep
the littles 1 /’
As two children Were playing together,
little June got angry and pouted. Johnny
said to her, “Look out, Jane, or I'll take
a seat up there on your lips.” “Then,"
replied Jane, quite cured of her pouts,
“111 laugh, and you’ll fall off.”
I Two Milesians were standing at th
| Fail-mount water works, watching the big
wheels splnsbing tbe water, wheii one of
1 them remarked: “Miko, isn't this a quaro
| country, where they have to grind theif
! water before they can use it ?”
John Randolph met a personal enemy
iu the street oue day, who refused to giro
I him half the sidewalk, saving that be never
! turned out fora rascal “Ido,” said Rau
! dolph, stepping aside and politely raising
his hat. “Pass on."
An Illinois woman, when they first he*
gAti to have C'ongressmen-at-large out
there, hearing the fact alluded to,
straightway rushed into the kitchen/
exclaiming, “Sarah Jane, don’t leute tha
clothes out to-night, for there's a Con
gressman at lurge.”
In Truekee, Nevada, the other day, A
group of five able-bodied individuals Were
conversing about fireurms. Oue offered to
wager the drinks that there were not three
revolvers in the crowd. The bet wus ta*
ken, aud tbe result was six revolvers, threw
derringers, and ahorse pistol.
A politician who found it wouldn’t do
to try to please everybody, gave it up, and
declares: “Henceforth I am a free man
and shall not try to please more'n four out
of five. Home one is always sure to bo
offended. If I even sound the prnise of
my Maker, it raises the dander of tho Old
One."
A MilWakee paper says of a literary gen
tleman of that city: “The sulalued light of
those mild blue orbs is indeed the slum
bering lire of genius. He is also a very
good young mam With the exception of
a few games of marbles played on Sundays
while a boy, his life has been without re
proach.”
A young mun ( who left Brooklyn three
years ago to "go West and gfoW Up,"
has just beeu heard form. He writes home
to his friends, from Idaho, saying that
the country is the most beautiful the sun
ever shone on, and the inhabitants the
most sociable he ever met, Also, that ho
expects to be hanged in about fourteeu
days for stealing a mule.
A young bootblack observed a neighbor
poring over a newspaper, whereupon he
addressed him thus: “Julius what, are you
looking at dat paper for ? You can’t read 1"
“Go away,” cried the other, indignantly:
“guess I can read: ’s big enough for dat.”
“Big enuff!” retorted the other scornfully;
“dot siut nuffln. A cow’s big 'nuff to catch
mice, but she can’t.”
Somo crusty old bachelor snys: I hare
noticed that when there is only one
daughter in a family, and her parents are
very anxious to keep her at home as long
as possible, somo chap coaxes her off
before she is seventeen. I have also
noticed that where there is a house full of
givls, and the parents are praying daily for
husbands for the same, the whole lot are
apt to live and die old maids.
A Granger dreamed that he died. He
went straight to the spirit-world; lie
knocked at the gate of the New Jerusalem,
and it was opened unto him. The books
were opened: he was asked, “Did you ever
belong to any secret society?” To which
he replied, “I did—to the Grangers.”
“Then, sir, yon can’t be admitted; depart.”
He then went to the door of the bottomless
pit, where the same questions were agaiu
asked him by the Devil, and again he was
told to depart. After ho bad gone a little
way off, he was accosted bv the homely
ruler of the pit, when the following
propositions were made: “Stranger,” said
Ni.:k, “I will not admit you here; they do
not want yon in heaveu; but I will sell
you two hundred barrels of brimstone for
cash, ton per cent, off, uud you cau start
a little hell of your ou, with no ageat#
o,: middle men.”