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About The Lincoln home journal. (Lincolnton, GA.) 189?-19?? | View Entire Issue (Oct. 13, 1898)
A er £ H / \ 4 $ '3 10 f. 3 y % ni Mow L # V; . YOU. VI. Oh, ye that shine In the thickest fight, And ye with labor spent, That bear the heat and dust and sweat, victory intent, Ifook not with scorn upon tho ranks Of those that idle stand, ■While on your empty scabbards gleams The glare of burning lir&q.d. There is a fate tno^e hard to be# \ Than that which tukes away ' V The warrior from his cherished hearth; It is the long delay. Tne heart grown sick from hope deferred, The summons never given, The thought that other hands shall bear The flag in battle riven; It is to hear the trumpet’s call, The cannon’s loud alarm, And see the smoke on distant fields While all around is calm; HOW STEVE STUCK TO ORDERS. > 33y FRANK OAKLING. % HE stage and the sun, 1 alike keepers of time, were both due at the lone station on Lost • River. Already the eastern rim of the desert was across the reddened stretch of a-burst of dust marked the coming of the coach, on its way the Snake River settlements to Salmon River mines. jAttracted Be by its vaunting approach, blanketed* figures rose about a Byppen B and campfire stood flickering while the near coach the SM e, by, staring with admiration 1 at at pageant of the desert. Their ap drew from the driver a look also, lingered, but not in ' admira¬ if there aint those three again, hanging round the like jack-rabbits round a stack IMerne!” he commented. *t Bannocks by the roadside were sight to him, and these nowise extraordinary in dress or habit of “hanging round,” gave them no further notice as followed after him into the sta :Then, blauket-enwrapped to the from the thin air of the morning, stood, mute and motionless of the change of horses. The fresh wheelers were already in places at the pole. The leaders’ jP^ Ang were nimbly hooked, backward and the hostler, striug was the long lead-lines, when the spoke authoritatively from the hostler looked up. He was an young fellow in tilted cowboy “check” shirt and overalls. “Oh, give ns a rest!” he exclaimed n the slang of the stable, and with lo thought of the clean, cool, hay tedded corner stall in the stage barn vhere, rolled in a horse blanket, he is TBfr ually made up for his broken night. driver grinned. “That’s the rd®,” he repeated. “It’s straight rom the old man. Rustle round, kid, nd get that water-tank a-rolling to * ’^IHole.” is manner altered, and turning his I he glanced at the passengers disdainfully ignoring the three statues planted at the off Rieel. ; “There’ll he a little pile coming in he treasure-box to-night, Steve,” he aid, bending alike from dignity and he box, and lowering his voice to a onfidential tone, “It’s to pay off rith at the mines, and the old man rants it sent right along to Salmon liver. You look out there ain’t any miting at Red Hole for water.” He straightened up and held out his Land. “Pitch me them strings! All eady there, inside? Hike!” The ffjur horses sprang forward as pe home. The rocking body of the oaoh(rose in front; the baggage feigbi^d boot dipped behind, and the tains flapped wing-wise on |n swift and dusty.evanish ■Hketed Hg-eyed Indians gazed after approval. Return B®iliies. Broadside camp, they mount and taking the trail to Sliver, they also began to pound St from the desert, n across Lost River another dust l arose, as the hostler, Steve, in Iddle, thinking not of Indians Iders, circled the range after ■to l-i haul the heavy water-tank to e —work for which the light, | •Mthorses were useless'. ®und four-year-old the animals he sought of Cleveland bay 3 igh-head 3 d, long-maned, -tailed, the span stood six- 1 s high and were heavy in opwi-ion. But despite their beefi ,ss, Steve’s well-grained little saddle¬ rs© was put to his best to drive them, ry-eyed and snorting, into the cor rssed by him, they came out of [le In, ” fit for tVe (even superintendent, the eyes of “the — — ^vk-lii/e points vision of could horse take and in a Slr P ■ harness. "WAITINC ORDERS. 1 * To feel that we could battle, too, If but the oall would oome,’ And hot be lagging at the sound Of bugle, fife and drum. And then, because our hopes grow faint, Self-trust is shattered, too; At last we wonder, could we strike As hard as others do? And could we stand the storm of fire, The bullets’ dreadful hail, Like that lieroio vanguard stands, "Nor at the carnage quail? Ah, sadder than to storm the height, And Aqd on its slope to die, crueler than in the dust With parched lips to lie, It is to wait with, beating heart A chance to do and die, Till others have the victory won And lighting days are by —J. 8. Taylor. The long, cylindrical iron tank, capable of holding some two hun.dred gallons of water, was mounted on broad-gaged and long-coupled trucks that added greatly to its weight and draft. Hitched to it, the span handled it as easily as if it were a baby-car¬ riage. Driven into-Lost River, it gradually sun k to the . hubs with the weight of the ilater as Stove filled it; and all the nerve §nd power of the heavy horses were required to start it from the sand. Once in the solid road they trundled it easily, with Steve sitting braced on the high seat. Fifty miles of waterless desert stretched between Lost River and the Snake. Pitched in a . depression of the desert, nearly midway between the two, was the stage station of Red Hole. Water had to be hauled there for the stage stock and the stock-tender. There, also, water was measured out to emigrants crossing the desert, and to Mormon venders of fruit and vege¬ tables bound for the mines. It was given free to man, but for beasts it must be bought. It was in the afternoon when Steve left Lost River, The road was nearly level, smooth and solid, except for oc¬ casional stretches of sand and out¬ cropping of lava rock—the terror of the teamster. He had to make good time. Late as it was, it would be well into the night before he reached Red Hole and the horses there, for the relay would want the water before their start across the desert. The strong young horses pulled the heavy tank at a steady pace over the road, whether good or bad. It rolled rowed smoothly deep over the solid gravel, fur¬ the sand, an’d crashed over the rock with a creaking of wood, a rumblipg of iron and a mighty splash¬ ing of water. A haze of heat hung over'the desert.. To Steve the Snake River hills were smokily indistinct, and the long Bitter Root Divide was mistily perceptible. It marked the boundary between Idaho and Montana, and lay in land that was the resort of rougher characters. The dark outline of the divide, shifting gently in the shimmer of the desert, pleasantly suggested to Steve the shade of spruce and lulling water in and indirectly that cool corn# stall the stage barn. TJie low sun at his back threw his long shadow down a smooth stretch of road; the team had settled to the collar ; and Steve, yield¬ ing to that pleasant suggestion, was soon asleep and driving with a perilous swaying on the high seat Jolted along thus with danger and discomfort, the pitched hostler suddenly found himself nearly headlong over the foot-board. The tank had stopped abruptly. Involuntarily he put his hand to his eyes. The sun had gone down, and in the twilight he saw be¬ fore him three mounted Bannock In¬ dians. One, on his pony in the middle of the road, had stopped the tetfm, The others sat statuesque in their saddles ac either front wheel, and the voice of onecalledin his waking ears, “Water!” Half-asleep as he was, Steve recog¬ nized the three onlookers of the morn¬ ing at Lost River. “Sure!” he now made reply; and taking the bucket from the foot-board at bis feet, he leaned back and raised the iron cap and filled the bucket gen¬ erously. his The blanketed rider on right reached out, took it, lowered his head to meet it, and thrust in his mouth and nostrils like a watering hortfe, long and eagerly. With a heaving sigh he passed the bucket back silent to Steve, who handed it to the waiter on his left. He, too, drank greedily, and then rode with it to his companion, stationed motionlessly at the head of the team. “Water for pony,” again eaid the statuesque spokesman at the off wheel. “Not mnch!” returned Steve, who was used to the always increasing de mands of the Indian. “That’s orders. Fetch that bucket back here and ride on to Lost River. ” “Water for pony!” the man per¬ sisted. It struck Steve that his tone was strangely mandatory for a Bannock. “To thine own self be true,and it will follow, as night the day, thou cans’tnot then be false to any man.” LINCOLNTON, GA.. THURSDAY, OCTOBER 13, 1898. He looked more closely at, the speaker. The man held a rifle across his saddle, and a headless jack-rabbit hung at the shrunken flark of. his pony. 1 His gay, many-colored blanket, his- brilliant scarlet flannel leggings, his bleached and broidered moccasins—all were alike picturesque and proper, and he had the feather of a petty chief slant¬ ing properly from his hat. The hat was pulled, down on his head, Indian-fashion, to meet the muff¬ ling fold of the blanket below, and on ’the face thus partially screened,' Bcfre saw cheek-bones fittingly redf/jied with ochre. Still Steve’s scrutinizing eyes were not satisfied. Something was want¬ ing. The man turned his head to beckon to his companion with the bucket. With his movement his blanket was thrown from his bhoulder, and Steve saw that the twqlonghorse¬ hair-like braids that invariably bedeck the shoulders of the Bannock braves were lacking. “Water for pony!” again reiterated this chief with the eagle-feather but Without the braids, while his equally braidless follower, resuming his sta¬ tion!# the opposite front wheel, leaned from, the saddle and silently extended the who Jracket’to the driver of the tank, as silently took it. The stamp of ’the horses, restless at the stoppage, emphasized that instant <?f their waiting. straining The dandling jangled toggles their on * tugs clear suggestion, and Steve gave one glanqei before him at the road. “Fiil up that bucket, young feller!” a surprising the voice rang out imperiously at rear wheel and electrified the motionless driver of the tank. ‘ ‘And be quick about it!” added the speaker, impatient of further sort of disguise, as he significantly raised his rifle. His voice, surely not that of an Indian, rather than his action, startled Steve upright on the foot-board. “Well, if you’re bound to have water, ” he said, raising the bucket in seeming fluster, “I reckon I’ll have to —— Hike!” With the exploding word the bucket shot from his hand, well aimed at the fellow’s head. With the word, also, the tank was jerked nearly frojaunder him by the forward leap of -the team, and he had a parting vision of a fall¬ ing rifle, a reeling rider ahd"a Startled pony trampling on a shattered bucket. The vigilant rider stationed directly in the road, a few feet,in front of the team, wheeled to evade the tank’s ir¬ resistible onset. Quick as he was with spur and rein, the iron-ended tongue caught his wheeling pony in the shoulder, and whirled the two, sprawling, a rod from the road. Steve, as the tank bounded past, saw the horse struggling aud the man stretched in the sagebrush. From the opposite side of the road behind came the flash and roar of a heavy rifle, as the fellow with the eagle-feather, readier than his com¬ panions, took a snap shot at the ven¬ turesome driver of tl/> tank. The ball, striking behind the sea., glanced from the carved iron tank and shrilled over Steve’s shoulder its call to halt. Unheeding it, Steve grasped the lines shorter and dropped low on tx > foot-board. His head and shoulders thus alone showed ablove the tank, and in the lessening light presented a moving and uncertain mark to the rifles behind. Steve’s action had been in accord¬ ance with orders. But now, as the tank bounded unchecked over the desert, he began to see that its stop¬ page and the demand for water were only preliminary to a second and much more important stoppage and deman/1. The stage with the money for the mines in its treasure-box would be along in a few hours, and these pre¬ tended Bannocks had not hung about Lost River and trailed across the des¬ ert simply to shoot jack-rabbits! the They had taken cool of the morning for it, too, knowing well he would have to pass with the water tank. Water! that was it—they must have it. For without water their horses, famishing now from thirst after the long wait in the desert, would soon be useless. To obtain water they would surely pursue him. but hardly into Red Hole, where nightly parties of emigrants and freighters camped. miles. He It was a matter of a few had the start. Could he keep it? he asked himself, glancing from his horses in harness to the horsemen be¬ hind. Two of them he saw, had dis¬ mounted and stood over the third, ly¬ ing by the road where he had been thrust by the tongue of the tank. “Hold up, there!” one of them shouted, and a second rifle-flash lit up the darkening desert. “These scoundrels can shoot!” thought Steve, “and they ain’t got pop-guns, either.” The heavy ball struok squarely and in the end of the cylindrical tank penetrated the riveted iron head like so much paper. Instantly a jet of. water shot out twenty feet behind the jolting tank. Steve, glancing back, saw the waste of that precious fluid with regret. With regret, also, he noticed that the x fellow unhorsed by the onset of the tank was now able to set up, and was leaning against a sage-bush. His two comrades, sparing him no further time, were mounting, ly to pursqo Steve. Their delay had given him a start, but still he was vflthin range of their rifles. The bullets pumped from their behmd. the desperadoes could not aim necura .____, jets’ 6 the cylinder, and three of watei playing backward were rapidly light ening the tank of its contents. The team would soon show the decreasing weight by their increased speed. The tank was actually gaining, but its driver, notwithstanding, looked be hind ruefully. ‘This sprinkling-cart business has got to be stopped!” Steve said, seeing the spurting jets laying the dust for the two coming on behind. “What’s left of this water has got to go to Red Hole,” he said again aloud, thinking of orders, The horses, sharers of his excite ment, were running of their own voli tion, straight in the road hedged in on either side by sage-brush. Steve tied the lines to the projecting springs of the seat. Drawing off of his heavy buckskin gloves, he slashed off its fingers with his knife. Tho pieces so cut he placed iu his mouth so as to leave his hands free, and turning on the seat he swung as tride of the tank. Utterly unyielding, and smoother than the sleek sides of any bucking “cayuse,” that rounded iron body “pitched” under him. But Steve was a rider, and regardless of its pitching, he hitched himself along with his hands to the rear end. Then lie grasped the tank with those rider’s legs of his, and bendihg over, twisted a glove-finger in a bullet-hole, thus changing its spurt to a trickle. While he was thus engaged, the horses, freed from his governing hand, broke in their gallop. The counter feit Bannocks began to gain, and "in their whoops of exultation seemed the real savages that they counterfeited. Steve could see them plainly as, swinging easily in their saddles, they refilled the exhausted magazines of their rifles from their cartridge belts'. The sigh-4* lent r.imblencas to Lis fingers busy with the bulletholes and plugs. The last hole was stopped, and Steve, clambering back to the seat, settled the team once more to steady speed. In his haste he sat exposed on the seat; but the riders behind made him their target no longer. Biding well out on either side, they began shoot¬ ing at the horses. Then for the first time Steve was alarmed. Should one of the team be hit aud fall, Bed Hole would be water¬ less that night. Rising recklessly on the seat, he flourished the ends of the long lines and lashed them over the haunches of his span. The tank with its lessened load bounded forward as if it, too, were alive and mad with excitement. Strik¬ ing the down-grade to Red Hole, it plunged along faster even than the horses who flew before it with slack¬ ened tugs. Then Steve, exulting, became some¬ thing of a savage himself. He danced perilously on the edge of the tilted foot-board, whooped in emulation of those behind, and waved his hat to them in daring derision. Their ponies, suffering from want of water, could not long keep the pace set by the big, fresh rangers of the desert. Steve saw them suddenly halt. They were miles from any water ex¬ cept that in the evasive tank. It was needful for them, now that they were detected, to retreat quickly to their mountain refuge. The disguised scoun¬ drels must spare their horses to save themselves. Steve saw them sit, silent and mo¬ tionless, as they let their horses take breath. Then wheeling about, they were lost, like coyotes, in the shadows of the sage-brush. Steve then held in his faming team to let it cool safely down, and trundled easily and triumphantly into Red Hole several hours ahead of stage time. The next morning the stage from Salmon River arrived duly with the sun at Lost River station, without in¬ terruption on the way; and not far be¬ hind it the empty tank, returning, rolled with hollow rumbling. It was nearly the middle of the day when a buebboard drove into the sta¬ tion, and its driver entered the stage barn as one who had authority. Steve, somnolent i a the corner stall, felt the horse-blanket drawn from his face. Looking up, he saw “the old man.” The superintendent listened in si¬ lence to what Steve had to tell him. He reflecte 1 a moment with his eyes fixed on Sieve, and then his comment, if somewhat irrelevant, was exceed¬ ingly gratifying to the hostler. “At the first of the month I’m going to put ou a new six-horse Concord,” he said. “I judge, Steve, you can handle the strings over sixes, and I’ll put you on the box.”—Youth’s Com¬ panion. He—“I shaKlspeak to your father to-night. How had l better begin?‘* She—“By calliiig his attention to the statutes governing tffid assault, mayhem, maaslu.ghter murder in the first degree. Papb ic so impulsive, you Ikaow.”— Judge). HOUSEHOLD AFFAIRS, Tamarind Water. fine sieve . add chopped ice, and it is ready for use. Tamarind whey is “ ade ** dissolvin f t T <> tablespoonfuls °£ P ul P ^ a pmt °f nnlk, strammg and sweetenin g to taste . Green Corn Pie. Slice the corn from twelve tender but well-filled ears and scrape out the hearts from the cob. Have ready, nicely fried, two half-grow n chickens, one pint fresh milk, one gill cream, two ounces butter and three fresh eggs. Put one-third of the corn in the bottom of a baking dish, sprinkle with salt aud pepper, add one-third of the butter, cut iu bits, and lay over half the chicken. Put another of corn and seasoning, then the rest of the chicken, and last layer corn, etc. B§at the eggs, add the milk and cream and pour over the pie. Iu half an hour it will be done aud should be served at puce. a ” d To, “ ato m Take hall dozen fine white peaches , a an ' as many firm red tomatoes. I eel anc *. quarter, not slice them, and set on * ce - Put into a bowl a heaping teaspoon of sugar, a saltspoon of celery salt, one-quarter as much 1111110 pepper, a dust of cayenne, pepper and five drops of tabaspo. Add m this al ternately, a little at a time, and all the while stirring, four tablespoons of salad oil a'nd the jaipe of two limes. proporly mixed it w..-“ “ e 0 c ° n ' &4»tence of cream. Line youi salac howl with leaves of heart lettuce, le the peaches and tomatoes iit ‘| ml dle mixing them agreeably. At , > very last minute pour over the#, the dressing. In serying put a spoonid S£ d a d in the middle of a lettuce leai. The Banana as an Article of Food. ■The banana in its true home, where it become mature before picking forms an important part of the diet of the. inhabitants. Many varieties, however, used there in an uncooked condition, will not bear transporta tion, consequently those which are sold in our markets are of inferior va riety, picked long before they are ma ture, and the ripening of which is al most a premature decay. They are exceedingly difficult of digestion, Children should never be allowed to eat the ordinary banana unless cooked, or when the skins are black and the fruit very soft and dark—almost what one would call over-ripe. The cook ing seems to do for the banaDa what tho ripening would have done iu the natural condition.. Banana meal, made from dried bananas reduced td flour, is very nutritious, used mainly to give variety to the restricted diet of the diabetic. It is usually made into a breakfast porridge, and in this form is much more palatable than the thin, hard cakes. Baked bananas are quite popular, contain a large quantity of pectin, and no free acid, are very nourishing, and may be given to inva lids and children. To bake, remove carefully the skin and fibrous portion that frequently adheres to the flesh of the fruit. Place them in a porcelain baking-dish; add half a cup of water to each dozen bananas; bake twenty minutes in a hot oven, busting once or twice; serve hot. Banana fritters and fried bananas are to be condemned, as are ail tried foods. Ladies Home Journal. Household Hints. Salt should be placed in the water in which matting is washed. Raspberry juice with one-third currant juice makes a better jelly than all raspberries. Pounded glass mixed with dry corn meal and placed- within the reach of rats, it is said, will banish them from the premises. When removing a cake from the oven where it has been baked, place the tin on a damp towel for a mo¬ ment and the cake will come readily out. In baking cakes or gems in gem pans, if there is not enough batter to fill all the little pans, put water into the empty ones before setting in the oven to bake. A few drops of oil of sandalwood, sold by druggists, dropped on a hot shovel, will be found to diffuse a most agreeable balsamic perfume in sick rooms or confined apartments., Do not overlook, the fact that screens at doors and windows catch and harbor an immense amount of dust. They should be dusted often, and at least once a week be vigorous¬ ly brushed on each side with a whisk broom. You cannot make good tea with hard water, unless you soften it with a tiny pinch of bicarbonate of soda. Let the water be freshly drawn and quickly boiled, then use at once. The tea will be ready to drink after an in¬ fusion of about seven minutes. To make a mustard plaster for a child take one teaspoOnful of ground mustard and three of flour, with enough water to make a good stiff paste. Spread between two oloths. For an adult, use one quart mustard to two of flour. Mixed with the white of an earer it will raise a blister. NO. 19. SCHLEY’S RESCUE CP* GREELY. the rescue of Lieut. Greely and his starving companions at Cape Sabine, Inthe Arctic regions, in the summer of 1884 Schley, then a commander, had three little ships, the Inetis, Bear and .. eit ^he Greely expedition peop e a a ! t>u the mt0 tall a and co ““ winter itlon of L.8o and US m . Utterly worn Cut and discouraged, in U*e nll ddle of September, 1883, Lieut, Greely concluded that rescue was im probable where they were, and he de elded to break camp and proceed south " '"’here he hoped to establish him se ff on !l point on the open sea,, where he might be able to attract the atten Uon 01 some passing whaler. J he lit tic party made its way more than 10 miles over snow and hummocks, with many distressing experiences, to Gap© Sabine, and it was heie that bchley al, d his little squadron found them, Schley was delayed in getting started from the Brooklyn navy yard, and this delay came near defeating the object 0 f the expedition. His ships were merC st tumblebugs, barely able to get out () f their own way, much less to get anywhere with dispatch. By the time they entered the Straits of Belle Isle in the progress northward the season was dangerously far advanced, but Schley cracked on ail the steam his bollers would carry and bowled along witlj energy to the ice-bound shores of Greenland. Upon leaving Upernavik great bergs began making their ap p earance> it j s a pretty wide sea op posite Upernavik, yet the prospect wa 9 discouraging. One of the corn manders of Schley's squadron, Lieut. Bill Emory, of the Bear, advised stout¬ ly against undertaking unusual hazard in giifing against the dangers of the vast ice fielS. In ■ fact both commanders were in t'a'ypr of extreme caution, but g fiAt of this mind. Ho said conference wird his associatas • ^ t0 OrMjl ■ I wul wiR ,, l11 come sta v back . , with\<“^ . IIe : ;1 b 0, ' rv tit " 1 we >e ‘ - s ^ nal to advance north, and led out boldly with his flagship, the 1 beds, u ' va » by the merest accident that he discovered the poor Greely fellows at Cape Sabine. It was only the con¬ trast of a dirty, smoke-stained tent against a background of snow that at traded tho attention of the lookout in the crow’s nest. It was at first thought to be a great rock. It was a hundred and odd miles south of where the ex¬ pedition was supposed to be, but Schley thought it wise to miss no chances, and when he found an open ing through the' mass of icebergs with which he was surrounded, he made a drive direct for the usual object, When they were within two miles of the capes they discerned question a bi e evidences of human habitation, The ships came to anchor, and a boat party went ashore to investigate. To their delight they found Greely and pjg comrades. There was not one of the eight who was still alive who had the strength to toss a cracker ten feet, Qreely himself was prostrate, without the power to raise his hand two inches, rp be others were little better off, al though some were able to be up, and to dagger about just a little, utterly helpless, utterly hopeless, waiting In anguish and in dread for the inevitable end. The poor fellows were too hope¬ less even to smile when they saw res¬ cue in sight. Greely himself was so far gone that he could not realize that rescue was at han<L ‘‘I suppose you are very giafl mat your husband is entirely cured of his rheumatism?” said a doctor recently to a fashionable lady of Germantown, “Yes, I suppose I ought to be,” an swered the lady, “but from now on we will have to guess at the weather or buy a barometer if his bones quit ach¬ ing before a damp spell.”—Philadelphia Call. —* GEORGIA RAILROAD. -a iv r^ Connections. For Information as to Routes, Sched —nibs and Rates, Both— Passenger and Freight Write to either of the undersigned. You will reoeive prompt reply and reliable information. JOE. W. WHITE, A. G. JACKSON, T. P. A. G. P. A, Augusta, Ga a W. WILKES, H. K. NICHOLSON*. C. F. & P. A. G. A. Atlanta. Athene. W. W. HARDWICK, S. E. MAGILfc, F. S. A. 0. A. Macon. Maootu M. B. HUDSON, F. W. COFFIN, JfflJN 8. F, A. 8. B. & P. A. fe* . .*583515:
