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10
In the Hands of the
Cave Dwellers.
The Story of An Apache Raid-
By G. A. HBXTY.
Copyright 1900 by. S. S. McClure Cos.
Charter VI.
When all the arrangements had been
made for :he departure of the raft Will
Harland said to Antonio, “Do you think
that it will be absolutely Impossible to
approach the hacienda by daylight?”
•‘lt could not be done, senor, and In
deed I don’t see that, any good could
jome of it, for even if we could get in
unobserved there would be no one of
whom we could ask questions or find
out anything as to what has taken place.
It is Just possible that in the confusion
of the attack some of the peons employ
ed In the house, the stables or our huts,
may have escaped and hidden themselves.
The Indians are good searchers, but Just
at first they would be anxious to make
* their success as complete as possible, and
doubtless a large party rode up the val
ley at once while the others started down
It. It was important that they should
■urprise the men with the various herds
before they could gather together, for
•ven twenty or thirty could have gather
ed they would have made a hard fight
of it before they lost their scalps. There
Noiselessly They Came Down Upon the Huts of tho Whii. Employe, of the
Hacienda.
fore, any who escape In the attack on
the house may have hidden themselves
from the first search, and we may pos
sibly come across them at night. They
would assuredly ne\er leave their hiding
places until darkness had fallen."
"I have some hopes of Sancho. If any
one has got out safe he has. He had a
good deal of experience In Indian fight
ing some fifteen years ago, -when be was
fan her east, and Is sure to have his wits
about him. He was at our hut when I
came alcng this morning. As you know,
he got hurt by a young hull in the yard
ten days since. He was nearly well
again, but the padre said he had better
keep quiet for another day or two. I
fancy that he was the only man there
except the peons, for tt is a busy time.
The first war whoop he heard he would
make for shelter, for he would know
that it was no use his trying to fight the
whole tribe. There is a thick patch of
brush twenty or thirty yards from the
huts. I expect that he would make for
that straight. There is a tank in the mid
dle that was used at qne time, but the
water was always muddy, and the mas
ter had a fresh one made handy to the
huts, and since then the path to the old
tank has been overgrown, and no one
aver goes there. If Francisco Is alive, he
is lying In that pond under the bushes
that droop over it all rourrfl "
"He would not be able to give us any
Information as to what was done in the
ho.'se?"
"No. senor. But he would be of great
assistance to us if we follow the red
skins. He is up to all their ways, und Is
a good shot with the rifle. At any rate,
if we go down to the house I should like
to try to find him. We have been com
rades a good many years now."
"Certainly, Antonio, you shall see If
you can find him. He is a good f How. and
as you say, would be of great assistance
to us. Do you think that we could make
a circuit and come down on the river
again two or three miles higher up and
cross there and get anywhere near the
house?"
■*We might do It, senor, but as we can
not get near enough to do any good. I
think we should be wrong to move trom
here. You may be sure that there ~re
some of the redskins hiding on the oppo
site bank keeping a sharp watch on us. If
any of us were to ride away, one of them
would carry the news at once and they
would be on the lookout for us. If we all
stay here till it is dark, they would sup
pose that we have all gone down with the
rafts, too, for the Indians would be un
likely to attack them, believing that there
were some fifteen or twenty men with
guns on them, and in the next place, they
will think that they are clear of us al
together and be less cautious than they
might be if they were to suppose that
we were still in their neighborhood."
"You are right, Antonio, and I will try
and be patient.”
As soon as It was dark the little party
of flfteeft men started, moving as noise
lessly as possible. They rode, riding two
miles up the river to a point until Antonio
said they were opposite a path by which
they could keep along at the foot of the
hills until In a line with the hacienda.
“You don't think that there is ary fear
of there being any red6klns on the farth
er side?"
"Not the slightest, senor. Long before
this they will have their fires lighiei end j
be gorging themselves with men, They i
know how small our force is. and wiil
never dream of our venturing back in o
their midst.”
As they rode back to the. river, they
slipped off their horses, as the latter be
gan to swim, holding on with one' hand,
and with the other keeping their gun",
pistols and ammunition above the w ter.
The river at this point was some 0(0 yards
wide and flowing with a quiet current. In
• few minutes they were across. An'onlo
soon discovered the path, and following
It, they rode in single file for an hour.
Then they reached a spot where there was
an opening among the trees, ar.d An o l>
aatd that they were abreast of the ht
ctenda, which was tome four mile away;
the building Itself was not visible, hut
the number of fire* wnlch blazed round
It was a sufficient indication of its posi
tion. At various other points up and down
tha valley Area also blazed, but there
wte none much nearer their side of the
valley than those round the havienda.
“Do you mean to go with me, senor?”
“Certainly. I mean to go; how had It
best be done?”
“I should say that we had better ride
to within two miles, it would not be safe
j to go w-ith so large a party nearer than
I that, then we will take one of the others
I with us to hold our horses, and, roLig
j at a foot pace, we might get within h.Vf
| a mile of the house without their hear-
I ing us. There will he a good deal of
I movement in the valley; the cattle whl
! be restless, having been chase! all day.
I and the herds broken up, so I think that
we can reckon on getting pretty close.
Then we will go forward on foot. We
had better make for the huts first; >ou
see the Indians are thick round the
house; I don’t think there is any chance
ne being saved there, because
1 that would be the first point of attack.
! If we do not find Sancho, possibly we
may come upon one or two of the pcor.s
who would be likcjy enough to make for
the same ♦ helter, if not we car. try
round the stables; still I am afr’d there
is no chance of hearing what has har
-1 pened at the house, I mean r.hether the
senorlta is killed or a prisoner. If there
is no other way we must get hold of an
Indian .md kill him: I will then dress up
in his clothes ai J no If I can get iuto
I the house. \s tin re are two trtfceji en
gaged one world have more chance of
j passing un3u*pited than if they all
l.nev. each other At any
!*:*. it must be r’sked. I know in* In
dian ways pietry veil, and might pass
! mutter, lut you ■vot’d have no chance,
senor ”
When they dismounted Antonio sad:
"We had better leave our Jackets and
combrerors here, their outline would show
on the darkest night that we were not
i Indians.”
Before leaving the raft Will had obtain
i ed from one of the head men a pair of
he Mexican fringed leggings, as their
own white trousers would betray him at
once, and now, with a dark blanket
thrown oveT his shoulder, he might at a
short distance be easily mistaken for an
Indian. He had already left his riding
boots behirifl him and had obtained a pair
of moccasins from one of the peons.
“I will lead the way, senor, as I know
every foot of the ground, 1 ” Antonio
said. #
Moving along noiselessly, they came
down upon the huts of the white employes
of the hacienda. As there were no fires
burning here they had bu slight fear nf
cnco.utering any of the Indians. Each,
however, carried a long knife, ready for
Instant action. They had left their rifles
and pistols behind them, for if it was
necessary to fight the combat must be a
silent one.
They crossed to the clump of bushes
of which Amonio had spoken.
"You stop outside, senor; it is of no
use two of us making our way in to the
tangle."
As he parted the bushes before entering
a slight sound was heard.
"Good; there Is someone here,” he mut-
"She Told Me She Was Going to Ride I'p
the Valley.”
tered, and then, making his way a few
paces forward, he uttered Sancho's name.
There was no reply, and he repeated It
In a louder tone. At once there was a
low reply: "Here am I. Is It you, Tonlo?"
"Y'es; I have come to look for you. I
thought you would have made a bee line
here as soon as you heard the redskins."
"You were right, and there are two
peons here. We were Just going to start
to make our way down to the river. Are
you alone?” ,
"I have the young senor with me.”
"That is good. I was afraid mat we
had all been wiped out.”
In a couple of minutes the four men
emerged from the bushes.
"I am glad to see that you arc safe,
Sancho," Will said warmly. “Now, can
you tell me what has happened?"
' I know nothing whatever, senor. I
was eating my breakfast when I heard
a sudden yell, and knew that It was the
Apache war whoop, and that there must
be a big force of them, and that there
was no fighting to be done, so I caught
up my rifle and pistols and made for the
bush. These two peons who were outside
followed me. I told them to hide as best
they could and I went on Into the pool,
found a good place under some thick
bushes, hid my powder horn and
THE MORNING NEWS: SUNDAY, JUNE 17, 1900.
weapofls handy for use close by.
lay down with my head out of
water listening. Already they were
down at the huts. and I heard
the cries of the peor.s they caught there.
Luckily I was the only Mexican above.
A few shots were fired up at the ha
cienda. and I thought I heard screams,
but what with* the yells o? the Indians
I could no: be sure. Presently it all
died away. I don't fancy they suspected
that any ore had got away, the attack
being so sudden; at any rate they mode
no search here. I made up my mind to
lie down till most of them would be asleep
and then to make for :he river, and I told
the peons that we must each shift for
ourselves, as we had more chances of get
ting away singly than if together. —l
♦his was spoken in a low voice.
The grir thing that I wanted to =k
you is. do you know whether the senor
ita was killed, or whether they have kept
her to carry ofT. but, of course, you don t
know.”
“They would rot kill her.” the man said
confidently, “but so far as I know, they
have not even caught her. I was at *e
p:ables maybe naif on hour before the
ser.orita came down end had her horse
saddled. She had a basket with her. and
told me she was going to ride up the val
ley to that wigwam that remained when
the Indians went away, carrying ae much
meat as their ponies could carry. There
were an old Indian and his wife left there
—she had got a fever or something, and
was too ill to travel, and she was going to
take a basket of food and som* medicine
that the padre had made up for the old
man. I have been thinking of her all
day. I should say she was coming back
when the redskins rode up the valley after
the cattle. She could hardly have helped
seeing them, and I wondered whether she
would take to the trees and have ridden
on this way until after they had passed,
or whether she had turned and ridden on.
If she did the first she is pretty sure to
have been captured when she got down
near home; if she went the other way
she gave them a mighty long chase, for
there is not a horse on the estate as fast
as hers, and as for the Indian ponies, she
could leave them behind as if they were
standing still.”
“Thank God, there is a hope, then.”
Will exclaimed. “Now we must move
further off and chat it over.”
When they had gone a quarter cf a
mile from the house they stopped. An
tonio tcld the two peens that the rafts
had started fully two hours before. The
current is only about a mile and a half
an hour, and if you cross the river and
keep on you ought to catch them up be
fore morning and can then swim off to
them. Don’t k* ep this side of the river;
there are redskins cn the bank, hut if
you keep this side of the valley, among
the trees, down to the river, you will
meet none cf them. We have come that
way.”
The peons at once started.
“Now, senor. wl 1 you go on to where
the horses are? Sancho and I will go
back to the house, he understands the
Apache language. We will crawl up near
"It Is Rough, But It Will Fa s in the
Darkness."
the fires and I should think that we are
pretty certain to hear if they have caught
the senorita or not. However, we may be
some time, so do not be anxious and don't
move if you hear a sudden row. for we
might miss you in the dark. We shall
make straight to this tree, and for a hit
my horse must carry doub.e; you had
better hand your jacket to Senor Har
land, Sancho, and take his blanket."
"How far are the horses?"
"There are thr. e of them about CO?
yaids further on.”
"I will go there first then," the man
said. "This Is a terrible business, senor."
"Terrible, indeed I am afraid there is
no doubt that Donna Saras’.a has lost
her life."
"I reckon.” the man said, “that ex
cept ourselves and any you may have
with you there ain't a dozen alive in
the valley; it is a clean wipe cut. I
never knew a worse surprise. How about
the par y by the river?"
Antonio related what had taken place
there.
"Well, that is something saved,” he
said, "and with sixteen of us all well
armed we can manage to make a decent
tight of It. We must get another horse,
tut ;hat won't be very difficult, most of
the others ate sure to have their las
sos with them, and there are a score of
horses rut ning 1 o e on the plains, and
they cannot have ro. ed them all in yet."
When they reached the horses he wet t
on; "You had better stop here, Toni; you
are not accustomed ns I am to them In
juns, and, as you don’t know mu -h of
thetr lingo you would not undora and
much of their talk. 1 would much rather
go alone."
"All right, old man," the other said.
"Now for my toilet," Sancho went on,
and going up to one of the horses h
pricked it with his knife. "Steady, boy,
steady.” he said as the horse plunged.
"It Is for your good os well as mine,
for you would not find life In an Indian
village as pleasant as the life you have
been used to." Then he dipped his fingers
in the blood, drew a broad line across his
forehead and round his eyes, placed a
patch on his cheeks, thcnjie cut off two
handfuls of long hair from the animal s
tail, tied these together with string and
fastened them In his hair, so that ihe
horsehair fell down onto his shoulder on
eacli side and partially hid his face.
"It is rough,” he said, "but It will pas?
in the darkness. It is lucky you have got
a ’pache blanket; that will help me won
derfully."
"Y'es, I bought it from the Indians when
they traded here a few weeks since. The
man I got it of said that he had trad and
a good pony for it when he was hunting
in the spring on the other side of tha
river.”
"X will take your rifle, Tonio,"* S incno
said. "I must either have that or a bow
and arrow. Now, good-by."
"Without another word he turned aid
strolled away toward the hacienda It
was nearly two hours before he relum
ed.
"The senorita has got away so far," he
said. "The redskins came across her hal -
way up the valley; she turned and rode
straight up, a dozen well-mounted men
were sent after her. I heaid that they
sent so many because they were
afraid that they might fall in with par
ty of the Oenlgueh Indians, who would
certainly attack them at once."
"Thank God!" Will exclaimed fervent
ly. "There is a chance for saving her af
ter all, lor 11 they overtake her, and they
LIEBIG
Company's Extract
or Bra?
U Indispensable in the culinary
department ot eer> household.
Every Jar
% g-ec in bloei
won’t do that for 6ome time, we can at
tack them as they oome back again.”
“Now let us Join the others at cnce,
and make up the valley."
During the time Sancho had been
away, he had been questioning Antonio as
to the extent of the valley.
“It goes a long way into the heart of
the mountains, senor, but none cf us
know it beyond what we have learned
from the Indians, for we were strictly
forbidden to go beyond the boundary for
fear of our disturbing the game in the
Indian country. They say that it runs
three hours fast riding beyond our bounds.
After that i: becomes a mere ravine, but
it can be followed up to the top of the
hill, and from there across a wild coun
try, until at last the track comes down
on a ford on the Colorado. From there
there is a track leading west at the foot
of the San Francisco mountain, and
comes down on the Little Colorado, close
to the Moquia country*.”
“How* far would that be from here?”
Will asked.
“I have never been acrces there, senor,
and I doubt whether any white man has,
not on that line. I should say that from
what the Indians say it must be some fifty
miles from the end of our part of the
valley to the ford of the Colorado, and
from there to the Little Colorado it must
be 150 miles in a straight line, perhaps
200 by* the way the track goes—that is
to say. If there is a track that any one
can follow. These tracks mostly run
pretty straight, so that I should say that
it would be about as far to the Moquis
country as it would be to San Diego from
here; however, we may be sure that we
are not going to make such a journey as
that; the Apaches are no r likely to fol
low her further than the end of thvs
valley, or at most to the Colorado ford.”
As they rode along Will learned from
Sancho how he had obtained the news.
“There was no difficulty about that.”
the other said, carelessly. “I waited till
the fires were a bit low, and then saun
tered about near those of a party of the
Tejunas, and heard them talking about
it. I learned that they had. a6 they be
lieved. wiped out all our people except
those who crossed the river on rafts, and
the senorlta, though they allowed that a
few of the men with the herds might have
got away, end they were going to search
the valley thoroughly to-morrow. Not
a soul in the hacienda escaped. The red
sk;ns were exultant over the amount of
booty they had taken, and were glad that
the cattle ■were amply sufficient for both
tribes, so that there would be no cause
for dispute os to the division, and were
specially pleased with the stores of flour
and goods of all kinds in the magazines.”
When they joined the main body, San
cho was heartily welcomed by his com
rades. who were delighted to hear that
there was at least a chance of saving the
senorita, of whom all hands on the estate
were fond. It was arranged at once that
Sancho should ride by turns behind the
others, and then they started at n gallop
up the valley, keeping close within the
edge of the trees that covered the hillside.
To be continued.
A Pelican Panic.
Or the Appalling Vpplshne.* ot
Billy.
By ANNE H. WOODRUFF.
A family of pelicans lived on the mar
gin of a lovely lake. Avery large family
it was. Indeed—fathers, mothers and chil
dren; uncles, aunts and cousins innumer
able. They had delightful times, for it
was always warm weather there, and best
of all. there was always plenty to eat.
AH they had to do when they were hungry
was to skim along the surface of the
water, and when an unlucky fish showed
himself pounce down upon him and gob
ble him up. Sometimes a whole shoal of
fish would appear, and then it was a won
derful and beautiful sight to see that great
family of pelicans sweep suddenly down
upon their prey In a most startling man
ner.
There were trees growing on the banka
of the lake which cast delightful shad
ows upon the water, some of the long,
drooping branches of the willows reaching
clear down into the lake. They found the
shade very refreshing after a flight in the
hot sunsnine and the exertion of catch
ing their lunch.
One fine day, while they were taking
their rest in the shade beneath the wil
lows, a pair of young pelicans were en
gaged in edose and absorbing conversation.
They were a handsome couple, of large
size," white, slightly tinged with pink, or
flesh color. They had large', broad and
extremely long bills, the extreme tip of
the upper one of a bright red color, and
curving like a hook over the under one.
"My dear,” the femaie pelican was say
ing to her mate, "the time has come when
I shall need to look for a suitable spot
for a nest. I must have your help in se
lecting It.”
"Certainly, my love,” was the answer.
"I shall be happy to render you all the
assistance in my power. What was your
Idea?”
“I am. as you are aware, of a very re
tiring disposition," she said, "and the pub
licity of this shore, where all our friends
love to congregate, is extremely distaste
ful to me. lam really puzzled to know
what to do."
"Really." said he, "I am quite at a
loss how to advise you. Ah, yes! I have
It!"
“Speak, my love, and relieve my anxie
ty." she implored.
"What do you think of that wood
yonder'”’ he asked, indicating by a grace
ful motion of his right wing a small isl
and lying at no great distance from the
shore.
"Just the thing!" she exclaimed Joy
fully “How clever of you! My dear,
would you be so kind as to go and in
vestigate, and bring me word as to its
suitability and comfort for a nest. I do
not feel quite equal to the exertion my
self to-day.”
“With pleasure, love.” he replied, swim
ming off across the water, while his fond
spouse stood on the bank watching his
graceful movements with proud and ad
miring eyes.
In a short time he returned and assured
her that It was impossible to find a more
desirable place, so the next day she made
there her nest of soft rushes and grass,
on the ground near the water.
In due time three beautiful white eggs
appeared in the nest, upon which she sat
day and night until they were hatched.
It must be acknowledged that her spouse
was most attentive and devoted, bring
ing her the choicest titbits in the way of
fish that it was possible for him to And.
How the proud parents rejoiced in their
little ones! They thought of nothing else
but to provide for their wants, bringing
them the flsh they caught In the large
pouches beneath the bill, with which all
pelicans are provided for that purpose.
The little ones grew and thrived, and the
mother said they would soon be able to
leave the nest, when she would teach them
to earn their own living. She warned
them not to leave the nest without her
permission, hinting at vague and fearful
dangers that were without that safe re
treat.
One little pelican was of a bold and de
fiant disposition, and in the absence of
his mother announced hla Intention ot
foraging- for himself. Like man y young
people, he had a great Idea of his own
abilities wanted to see the world and
er.joy himself. When his more obedient
and timid brothers remonstrated with
him. he taunted them with being tied to
their mother s apron strings—or some
thing to that effect—and went eft as fast
as his little legs could carry him.
When the mother pelican came home
there was a dreadful time, as you may
Imagine. When she found out the facts
of the case she flew here and there, ut
tering hoarse cries of distress. She hur
ried all around the little island, but In
vain, he was not to be seen. Then, charg
ing the others to remain where they
were, she hastened to the old trysting
place, where she felt sure of finding her
mate enjoying a quiet visit with his
cronies. As it happened he was alone,
stretched comfortably upon the green
swat taking in the peaceful beauty of
the scene.
Drowsy as he was, the distracted ap
pearance of his mate, as she struggled
breathlessly up the bank, caused him
to open his eyes wide in affright.
“What is it, my dear? What is it?
What has happened? he asked in breath
less suspense, waiting impatiently for
her to get her breath.
"Oh, my dear! Our darling, our pre
cious little Billy!” she gasped.
• Ycu alarm me,” he cried. "What is
wrong with Billy?” and his anxious face
confirmed her suspicion that Billy was
his favorite.
"He is gone!” she exclaimed in a de
srairing whisper, "and I can not find
him.”
When she had told him all ha said
soothingly:
"Keep up your courage, my dear, and
it will all bs well. We will find him, I
am sure," and led her back to the nest,
where he Inquired more carefully info the
matter. The young pelicans gave him a
true account of their brother’s doings,
withholding none of his unfilial speeches,
"Ungrateful young wretch,” his father
said, and would have added more in -he
same strain had not his mate checked
him with an observation, which, translat
ed into English, means:
"Boys will be boys.”
I am not acquainted with the pelican
rendering of the proverb. She also darkly
hinted that the time was not so far dis
tant in the past when he himself had been
guilty of as grave if not worse misde
meanors, whereupon he looked very glum
indeed, and the young pelicans stared as
if they could not believe their ears.
It was getting along toward night and
no time was to be losf. They were Just
about starting upon a tour of discovery
when a familiar, shrill little cry w.ib
heard near at hand.
"Oh, my darling: my darling! There he
is!" cried the overjoyed mother.
Sure enough. Biily, a very weary little
pelican, waddled haltingly toward them,
glad enough to hide himself under the
mother wings.
"Come, sir, give an account of yourself.
Where have you been?” sternly queried
the father.
"Over there,” answered Billy, rather
vaguely.
“Why didn't you answer when I called?"
asked the mother.
"Guess I was asleep,” answered Billy.
“It was so far I got tired. I'm thed
yet."
“Go to bed this minute, sir,” said the
father pelican in a tone which made them
all tremble. And without your supper,
sir," he added.
"I'm not hungry," said Billy. “I found
a lovely green frog in the waterhole. It
was delicious."
"A frog!" screamed his mother In hor
ror. "You bad child! You know I never
allow you to eat anything but fish. And
I'm sure, Billy,” she added, tearfully, ‘‘you
have always had plenty to eat. I’ve never
neglected my children. No one can accuse
me of that. We pelicans are said to be the
most devoted of parents. It has even been
said that we feed our children with the
blood from our own breasts. Times have
never been so hard with us as to make
that necessary, but I would do a great
deal for my children and so would your
father. Promise never to be naughty
again, my son.”
Billy readily promised, for he hated
sermons, and he was very sleepy, and
peace reigned once more In the bosom cf
that pelican family.
PADDED SENATE PAYROLLS.
Senatorial Courtesy YVbich Permits
of Political Jobbery.
From the New York Post.
Washington, June B.—House of Repre
sentatives courtesy has not become so far
famed as senatorial courtesy, and yet it
not the less exists, as has been shown by
the commotion which followed a remark
of Representative Weeks, Republican,
Michigan, a few days ago. It Is felt that
he violated a tradition of the House in
making art Inquiry on the floor as to the
whereabouts of one of its employes. In
a moment of evident 111-temper he de
manded, "What has become of our capitol
locksmith?” It seems that and Mr. Jones,
who appears on the payroll as a locksmith
at a salary of $1,500 a year, is In Michigan
campaigning for “Little Sam" Smith of
that state, one of the three Representa
tives Smith of that state, and that Mr.
Weeks knew it, and for some reason de
sired to give his colleague a slight tpunch.
But Mr. Weeks' objection to a $1,500
locksmith being absent from Washington
campaigning is like an attempt to bale
out the ocean with a dipper. The capitol
rolls, partlcolaily In the Senate, are load
ed with names of persons who perform no
duties whatever, or no duties at all com
mensurate with their salaries, but who are
carried on the rolls as a favor. It Is said
that the Senate rolls contain a hundred
such names, or to be more accurate, that
one hundred persons are thus paid by the
Senate, although the names of many of
them appear on no rolls whatever. The
contingent fund is to a considerable ex
tent used to furnish salaries for dummies.
The coal fund is said to be assisting in the
support of some gentlemen of high social
pretentions in this city. Sundry students
in college in distant parts of the country
get their pin money from congressional
payrolls. If these lists were ever pub
lished. there might be a wholesome over
hauling. but on the one day in two years
when federal employes are rounded up
for the Blue Book there Is a widespread
suspension of services at the capitol.
These so-called "gtafters" are dropped a
few weeks before, and re-employed a few
weeks after the round-up. The reason
these things are never brought to light
except in a spasmodic way Is because the
ramifications of the abuse are so extensive.
Senator X., for example, dares not criti
cise Senator Y., whose doings in a partic
ular instance may be worse than his own,
because his own In some other case are
not absolutely above reproach.
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SOME WASHINGTON GHOSTS.
AND THE RED MANSIONS IN WHICH
THEY APPEAR.
The Old Taylor Home—When It Was
Built and the Year Noises Heard
In It—The D-uddtngton Manor, Near
the Navy Yard—The Holt Mansion
and Its "Hants"—Other Old Houses
That Have Histories and Strange
Occupants.
Washington, June IS.—Probably r.o city
in the country can show so many houses
wherein ghosts are said to wander as the
national capital—and certainly no other
can furnish so many people to credit the
stories concerning them—for our colored
population, 90,000 strong, to a man, woman
and child, are firm believers In* "hants.”
Among a score or more of historic man
sions, each crammed full of spooks, if
tales are true, one of the most celebrated
In ghostly lore is the old Tayloe home, or
“Octagon House,” as it is commonly
called. It is not only the most unique
building in Washington, architecturally,
but was once among the finest and proud
est. It stands in what is now considered
a disreputable section of the city, termed
"south of the avenue,” but in the early
part of the century the nabobs of the
your.g capital considered it unsurpassed.
In front is a queer circular porch, jutting
out like the tower of a mediaeval
castle; the many-paned casements are
broken, and climbing vines running riot
outside, peep into the dark rooms long
tenanted by not.iing earthly but rats and
spiders. On entering the door,, the vis
itor is immediately impressed with the
antiquity of the place, Its unmistakable
air of departed grandeur, as well as V£ith
the sense of sadness that seems to hover
over the faded chambers and desolate
halls. Such a strangely constructed house
is hardly to be found anywhere else. Fir-t
is a perfectly round marble paved recep
tion hall, on each side of which stand
two ancient stoves with their rusty pipes
running up through the side of the wall.
Back of this circular apartment Is anoth
er long, wide hail, used for receptions
when tne bills and beaux or early days
held court here. On the left hand side of
this is a spacious ball-room which must
have been of unsual magnificence, judging
from its lofty ceiling, deep windows and
beautifully carved mantle piece, which of
course was imported from abroad. It is
said that Senator Lodge and several other
well-known men have tried to buy this old
mantle and two or three others in the
house, offering as high as SSOO apiece for
them; but the heirs decline to sell them.
• * * * * * 9 * a
On the second and third floors are a
great many chambers, mostly small and
oddly shaped, with innumerable tit le
closets and chubby-holes scattered all
about In unexpected places. In the rear
is a large yard, overgrown with grass and
weeds, and in one corner the ruins of
what was once the slave quarters. It Is
in this yard that the ghosts render them
selves most obnoxious—perhaps because
more conspicuous there than in the dim,
shut-up rooms. Tales are rife in the
neighborhood of the nightly sound < f
blows and shrieks, coming from a small
brick outhouse which is supposed to have
been the place of slave punishment with
its whipping post in the center.
The mansion was built in 1793, by Col.
John Tayloe, a rich planter from Vir
ginia, who owned hundreds of slaves and
dozens of fine estates in the Old Domin
ion. Gen. George Washington and Tay
loe were chums, and the story goes that
when the latter wished to establish a cry
residence, Washington persuaded him to
build In the new capital. The bricks
were brought from England, .and our first
President assisted his friend Tayloe In
deciding upon plans for the dwelling. The
family moved into It In 1807. and s'rilght
way became the leaders of Washing'on
society. With wealth beyond computing,
and the lavish hospitality of "Old Yir
ginny,” balls and dinners and receptions
to the heads of the nation and foremost
statesmen of the day were of constant
occurrence. In 1814, when the White House
in which Madison was living, was burnt
by the British forces, Col. Tayloe hastily
moved his family out of his splendid
home and offered it to the President.
Madison gratefully accepted and remained
on the place about a year. His office was
the round room on the second floor. Just
above the circular reception hall, and
here it was that the famous treaty of
Ghent was signed. Here "Dolly” Madison
held her gayest court, and the time
eaten rooms were crowded with short
waisted dames In scanty silkrn robes and
slippers laced around the ankles, and men
, in powdered hair, knee-breeches and sil
ver buckles. There were candles to light
the gallants to bed and scores of slaves
to obey the llgh'est nod; but the houses
were few in Washington at that early
day, and the streets were beaten tracks
along a muddy country road.
When the Tayloe family came back Inro
their home, the "hanting” began. One day
h servant heard the front door bell rln.',
and hastened to open it—but nobody was
there. It rang and rang and rang. Col.
Tayloe himself went to open it. and so did
the rest of the family, singly and in
groups. They lay in wait to surprise the
ringer, and sprang out suddenly. But all
to no purpose; the bell continued to ring,
though no mortal hand was seen. Then
all the hells in the house set up, Jangling
night nnd day together, and nothing could
stop them. Finally the family could en
dure It no longer and retired to one of
the YHrginla farms, never to return. The
bell-ringing incident is true and was re
corded in the papers of the time; but what
rang them remains a mystery.
Many times since some venturesome
person has tried to live in the fine old
house, but each has been quickly driven
away by mysterious noises. Among num
erous traditions concerning the ghosts,
one is to the effect that a lovely young
daughter of the Tayloes was forced to
marry an elderly man against her wish,
while her heart was In possession of a
gallant young lover, The husband treated
her most cruelly and she died at the nge
of' 23. Here Is the slender figure, all In
white, which the neighbors swear they
frequently see at the windows. She throws
up the sash at a certain hour, as if bent
on climbing out, and no nails or bolts
can keep those windows closed.
It Is also told that on one of the upper
rooms a gambling party was once con
vened, when one was killed by his drunken
comrades In a fight over the cards; and
now every morning In the woe gma
hours between 1 and 3. groans and curses
are heard, followed by the conventional
“dull thud" of the murdered man.
Probably a hundred witnesses might be
found willing to testify In any court of
lew that they have peeped through the
windows of the old Taylor house, (ot
respectful distance), when the spooks were
holding high carnival within, and have
seen the shades of Washington, Adams
Jay, Marshall, the Madisons and others’
with their Indies, In the great hall, danc
ing the stately measure of the minuet
• • • • • • .
Another equally famous mansion, of
aristocratic occupants, both In and out
of the flesh. Is Duddlngton Manor, out
near the navy yard, surrounded by a high
brick wall ond shaded by old forest tro*
The grounds are extensive and were one.
beautifully kept. There is a curious
spring in them with a flow of water al
most sufficient to turn a mill. The man
sion reminds one of old baronial estates
in England, being double, with spacious
hall, lofty pillars and polished floors. At
one time it was splendidly furnished, ar.J
its owner, Daniel Carrol, dignified and
stately, entertained the distinguished cit
izens of Washington. But the glory of
the house has long since departed; the
Carrol family are all dead except two
elderly ladies; and the home, after varl.
ous vissitudes. as a boarding house, has
been bought by the government for a
hospital. It is related that ghosts drove
the boarders away every time, sneaking
through key holes, laughing aloud in cor
ners, laying cold hands on Sleeping fore
heads, an 1 doing other unmannerly thing*
unworthy of respectable spooks.
At the corner of Lafayette Place and H
street is the house which Commodor De
catur built, which was occupied by him
at the time of his death, and which, it
is said, he yet frequents. Probably you
remember the tragic circumstances sur
rounding his violent end—how he had aid
ed in the courtmartlaling of Commodore
Barron, for which the latter challenged
him to fight a duel, in 1820. Decatur fell
mortally wounded, and was brought home,
dying as his friends were carrying him
up the winding stairs. Afterwards the
house was occupied by Judah P. Benja
min, who furnished it in the most luxu
rious manner, and brought there his young
French wife. But nothing pleased her,
and she pined like a bird In a cage, until
her husband carrP-d her back to ‘‘gay
Paree,” and himself went to live else
where. Their domestic tragedy ha® ele
ments sadder than death; which cannot
be put Into n newspaper paragraph. It
is said that every family which has slrr
occupied the house, has “come to grief."
in one way or another, on account of the
melancholy wraith of Commodore Deca
tur.
• *****••
In the immediate neighborhood, on the
opposite File of Fayette Square, is the
Seward House, where Secretary Seward
was living when he received the wounds
on that fatal night, when men he’.d their
breath wi:h fear and neighbor dared not
trust neighbor. The mansion was for
merly a clubhouse, and has been “un
lucky” ever -inee Philip Barton Key cams
out of it and had not gone twenty ♦steps
when ho was shot to death by Gen. Sickle*
for alleged love-making to the latter's
wife.
Near the Metropolitan Church is a hand
some house zhos 1 ghosts amuse them
selves every evening, just before gas
lighting time, by rattling paper in a cer
tain room. For many years this phenom.
enon has been k own, and a hundred
times people have been invited to hear and
bear witness to the truth. It begins with
a gentle swaying sound, like the folding of
a newspaper, and then grows lounder, un
til it sounds like the rattling of pro
grammes in a crowded hall. If no light Is
furnished It will continue all night, but
ceases the instant the gas Is turned on.
The tradition Is that many years ago. the
wife of a we".-r-memb-red literary man
died very must ri usly In that room. But
the poor lady reveals no secrets of her
taking off. and why she keeps It up is as
great a mystery as her death.
• * * * * * • • •
The fine o!d licit mansion on New Jer
sey avenue, southeast, which was lately
in litigation among the heirs of the late
Judge He It. is another of Washington’s
haunted ’he,uses unter.anted for years.
Every nifcht. at precisely 11 o'clock, an
unse n carriage dashes up to the door,
unseen horses seem to be pulled back upon
tneir haun hes;th, dojr-bell is so v.nlfntly
jerked that i ■ pealing is heard all over
the qui t r.elghborho-vl; sounds of slam
ming co c disturb the night, and then
a man’s excited voice, mingled with wild
shrieks and prayers for mercy; after
w lrds dull l lows and a heavy fall, and
all is still until precisely 11
p. m. the next night. In an
other house In :i poorer quarter groans
and curses moire every night hideous, so
that, not only are tenants kept out of it.
but from every h ose in the close vl lni
'y. So grtat is the disturbance sometimes
that the police have teen summ ned to
top tor. fight t in; app ars to be going
on But th clubs o "the finest" have no
can rcl over t ose ur.iuly corqbatants.
During the war i: ws a t nement house
of uk v ry re utatlen, k pt. by a dread
ful creature who was known as One-eyed
Sri. T e ro i, c raid* and her abode one
night, and btsd o other findings, came
a rose s V ral bodies of murde-ed sal
on rs buFed In the cellar. Meanwhile Sal
realiz'd that then was "the time for dls
a pea- ing" and slippi and cut into the night.
Diiigem search was made for her. far
and wide, hut no clu as to her where
abours was ever obtained. The negroes
incl ne to the on nion that she simply
m unt and her broom-stick ar.d sailed away,
as any hoodoo witch has a habit of do
ing.
*•••*•••
Greatest ,of all the haunted houses in
this or any other country is the old .capi
tal prison, th - scene of unnumbi red trac
ed i r- wher the Confederate Cnpt. Wirz.
o Andersontil e fame was ha>'g and, and
Mrs. Su r.itt aw: itcl her dreadful death
in t rror; wher Bell: Bryd, the female
s; y, who ded he other dty, was for a
tme kept out cf misehi f Before becom
-1 g a mi itary r s n It s -rt ed for a tlma
as the capitol of the United States, being
ab ut the only iub ic bll j n tt a es
caped th Biit s i torches; and previous
to 1814 ii was used as offices for the gen
er 1 pcstofflce and pa'nt office. Afte- the
Civ I War 1; was and VO and into two private
residence me of which become a swell
I 00.' 1 In It John C. Calhoun
breath and 1 is last. Copt. Wbz was the last
pc son In and l-i ts ■ld ’ a k a and
every colored person on Capitol Hill will
te l y u t .it :t is nette n t to take any
cl arc s of meeting his "ham” by wan
der ng ab lit. 'he. premises on dark nights.
They assert t> at he has been often seen,
with protruding tongue, h ack'ned coun
te. once and rope around his neck, trying
to seal’ that backyard fence!
If these accent heu es were the only
haunt'd ones in the nations' capital! If
the midnight cries of the disembodied
were th only sounds of sorrow! Under
the ros s if many a banquet hall is coll
ed ihe deadly snake; over many an hon
or and head hangs the fabled sword as by
a hair; and In many an aristocrailc closet
lu ks the family skeleton whose bone*
are never rattkd abroad.
LIPPMAN BROS., Proprietors,
Druggist*, Uppman’s Block, SAVANNAH, 6A.