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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Wingham Times, 1885-12-18, Page 3The Old Story. BY A. S. N. look et the slime on her golden hair, ook et her bosom muddy and bare, Look at her body lying there, Mee et the foot of the landing stair.. What brought the poor wanderer her, To he stared at by+rowels with a pitying leer? Same one ehe loved was bar of., washer all Had lett her alone with the theme bf her fall. Poor child ( thy burden was hard to bear, And the bearer was borely laden with Dare. Seeking for rest. the sought It In vain, T"wae gruel to koep the poor lone one in pain. In her mirery to the river she 1 d !or relief, And the kindly wet°rs buried her grief ; Loft no trace behind her, no tale of her shame, Not a note, not a letter, not °von a name. And they'll say that her life had boon guilty ; That she'd Binned from her youth until now, Poor child, she was not yet twenty, Yet oho sinned and died. Why? How Poor, broken, bleeding heart, Thy trials et last are o'er. And now no oru4 earthly dart Can pierce thy bosom more. Perhaps in Kuno peaceful region Thy weary heath's at rest, And rhore by that white robed legion, Thy erring soul's caromed. Caressed by their heavenly fingers, Far otr on that golden ehere, Where never pain nor mlderylingor0, Safe and pure for evernore. rHHZSTMAS NIGHT AMQ1G WOLVES. Thrilling Tale of Pioneer Life in Ontario, But a few days since, my eye fell upon a thrilling description of a contest with wolves. The details stirred some bitter memories of the past, The very name of wolf, causes a shudder to oreep over me, and brings ba"k a train of most bitter associations. A dark, horrible vision falls upon the inward soul, its freezing incidents being aa vividly por- trayed as when enacted long years ago. Reader, indulge an old friend in a brief tale of facts. Draw your chair closer to the fire, and I will tell yon a story of Christmas night which will stir your blood. Did you know Carry Masoo ? Why do 1 rat the question, for yearn have gone by since she died. I knew her and loved her. Who could know her and not love her 1 Carry 1 °I turn back into the past when the world was all a paradise and she its loveliest angel. She was beautiful—how beautiful 1 No thing on earth was ever more so. I will not Attempt to describe her. No light cloud tracing the summer sky,was ever more graceful ; no snowflake ever purer ; no warbling bird or dancing atream, ever more happy or gleeful. And yet she had a spirit which soared, and her blue eye, as wild as the depths of a summer sky, would melt in tears or flash indignantly at a tale of wrong. She was surpassingly beautiful in form, and angelic in mind, Sueh was the guiding star of my youth—the lovely flower which beamed out in the then wilderness. Do you wonder that I loved her ? I love her now as embalmed in mem- ory around no in the winter of life, The Ca;rl'i}' Mason of earth, is dead. I know that. Bat the Carry Meson of Heaven, lives, and I love For as I love the things of Heaven. Years have swept by and sifted the snow among my locks and my eye looks dimly out upon the world; yet that one bright dream lingers as freshly in the heart as when treasured there in the spring time of life. Closer with your chair. Heap on more fuel, for chitin creep over me as that blast goes by. I can hear the snow sift thickly against the window pane. I know that a think, white snow -shroud is silently weav- ing over tho leafloes, bladeless, flowerless earth. So has time woven a shroud over all the bright hopes of my youth, The drifts are piling up 1 Away back of the village church, the heaps line upon the graves of the dead. Carry lies there. I see the spot now, even as I watch the blaze and listen to the wind without. The snow there gathered is not purer than the opitit of .Carry. That was a fierce one I The night winds have a language. I understand it. Long —long years I have sat here and listened. As they go past, they whisper, and I wan- der in thought until the ashes gather on the waning hearth. How the winds shriek and wall ! They have a touching moan. It makes me sad to hear them sigh, and I people the night ail 'with spirits of grief. Now a faint, solemn dirge goes by. There 1 hark to a shriek which leaves a freezing sense of some fearful crime committed. And yet the winds aro company for me. They have been my sole oonspanione for years, Let the winde murmur, for I 'should miss their fainteet whisper. Forty-eight years ago 1 Time has fled fleetly. It eeema but a day, and yet I look in the glass across the table and she the withered foetures of an old man. Is it myself that is old I I draw nay hand over a face of wrinklea and then lay it upon a smooth bald head. Around the ears, are thin, white locks, and a well worn staff Orden in the firelight. Years have gond by, while the heart hare been dreaming as though there was no winterafter the spring time of youth. Forty-eight years ago, as I said, my father's family settled in one of thecounties of central Ontario All was a wilderness, wild, grand. beautiful. We located fifteen miles from the farthest pioneer " clearing," The sbadowa were around us, tho tall tre e and the picture} quo hills. Many a summers day have I toiled up the hill sides and looked out upon a ewe of green as it swayed and rolled in tee ennimer breezy, or watched the waning sun ae it lingered to bathe the whole wilderness in a flood of gold and crimson. All was very beautiful, The axe bad opened a space in the forest, and a cabin of that good old time, afforded us shelter. It looked naw and comfortable, and its ohirneysmoko purled gracefully up and vanished with the shadowa of the forest. The blackened heaps smoked and crackled, and deep in those wild -wood solitudes, the wilderness blossomed and emiied in the presence of yellow harvests. A happy home was there. The birds sang a,t earliest morn, sed the deep river neer the door murmured sweetly at:nightfell. There were gentle whisht,ringe in the old trues. As they bowed their heads in the winds, a holy anthem floated up from the vast temples whore Nature breathed fresh and pure from the hand of God. The wild flowers bloomed even by the very doorsill, and the deer stopped in the fort st edge to gaze on the Smoke of the ohimney top, 'Twos a beautiful home in the old wilder- ness 1 The spring brought us neighbors. 'Tway a great day when a settler Dame in and pur- chased land across the river. He received a warm welcome from pioneer hearts, and by the ready agency of pioneer ,hands, a comfortable log -cabin peeped out from the dense woodland of the opposite bank, I watolled the smoke from its open roof as the sun went doter, and eagerly. looked for it the next morning, But It was not the smoke that I eared so muoh about. I only knew that it curled upward from the fire- side where dwelt as beautiful a creature as ever bloomed away from the busy world. And so I writehod the smoke and dreamed as 1 watched—until the moon threw down its beautiful pathway of shimmering silver, and listened for the sound of familiar foot- step., Across the river was the home of Carry Mason, Before the mellow haze of autumn had dropped its dreamy hue on leaf and stream, 1 had learned to love her, and to toll her so in the still moonlight of that bidden home, The leaves faded and the winter winds awept through the forest, But we oared little for that. The snow fell thick and fast, hat our cabin homes were bright and our hearts were alive with heppineoe and hope. When the spring opened and the birds returned we were to be married. I was happy. A Christmas party in a new coun'ry. Did you ever attend one, reader ? There are l rgo hearths and open hearts there to be found, Carry and I were invited to attend the party. A rude of jumper "had been built, and in this we started. Ten mites wore anon pasted, and we found oureelves in as merry and happya throng as ever gathered Oil a frontier. The huge fire crackled on the wide hearth, and old fashioned fun and frolic rang out until a late hour. I he moon had gone down when we start- ed for home, and the snow began to fall, But we heeded it not, for we talked fast as the stout horse aped on the forest path. Carry grasped my arm and whispered hist 1 The wind skrieked over the tope of the dark pines, and I laughed at her fears. But she nestled closer to my aide, and talked with leas glee. In spite of all my efforts, a sha- dow would creep over my own spirits, The road wound among a dense growth of pines, whioh shot upwards and veiled even the sky from our path. The old pines swayed and moaned in the increasing storm, and the now fell fast and thiett ly. I touch- ed the horse with the whip, and he moved briskly through the woods. Again Carry grasped my arm. I heard nothing save the storm, and yet I was startled as the horse eve a quick snort and struck into a gallop. With a heart full of happiness, I had not yet dreamed of any danger. Again the horse snorted in alarm. There woo a sound above the storm. I felt my cheek grow white and cold, and the blood rush qufe'aly back to my heart. Clear, wild, terrific, it burst out in an unearthly howl like a wail from the world of fiends. I heard it. Its dismal, heart - chilling eohees had not died away on the storm, when it was answered from a score of throats. Merciful Gnd 1 A pack of wolves were around us 1 In those dark woods at night, and the storm howling overhead, a score of hungry throats were fiercely yelling each other on to the feast. ,,,.,,, For a moment, my settees reeled. But I felt Carry leaning heavily on my shoulder, and I aroused myself. But what hope was there? I had no weapon, and the maddened devils were in the path before and behind us. There was but one chance, and that was to push ahead. That was a slim chance, and I grew sick as I thought of Carry. The quiet cabin and the happy hearth at home flashed swiftly through my brain. At that moment, to dark shadow glided up by the side of our sleigh, and so wild and devli-h a yell, I never heard since. My flesh crawled on my bones. A cold shiver ran to the heart and kept over my head. as though the hairs were standing on end. Two orbs glared out like demon lights, and I could hear the panting of the eager beast. Firmly grasping the lines and shouting sharply to the horse, we shot away. The horse needed no urging. At the act, the infernal chorus again buret out in earn- est, and their dark forme leaped in lengthen- ed strides on either side of us. The speed was fearful, and yet the yelling devils ken' pace, Turning to speak to Carry, I caw a dark form leap into the path, and as we sped ahead, his teeth shut with a vicelike snap, miasing Carry, but stripping her thaw! from her shoulders, With a shriek she clung to me, and with my arm I saved her from being dragged out of the seat, God 1 It was horrible 1 We were to be eaten alive"1 I became maddened—reckless. I shout- ed to the horse, now reeking with foam. We went at a fearful rate. The stumps, and roots and uneven plecee in the road threatened every instant to wreck our sleigh. Home was three miles ahead I 0, for a world to give for home 1 As the road struck the river bank, it turned shortly almost on the brink of a fearful precipice. Here waa a new danger. It was a difficult place, and not only danger of upsetting, but of being hutted into the river. There was a path morose this angle of land where logs had been drawn out. It was a mile nearer this way to the cleating, them by the river, Bat I duvet not tet. tempt it with the sleigh. On we °pod 1 that infernal paok neok and neck with us, and every now and then, jaws shutting like steol•traps oloeo to our persone. Once around that angle, and I hoped f How madly I shouted to the noble brute 1 We neared the turn in that race for life. Heavens 1 the internal devils had cross• ed ahead and hung in dark mattes ahead. A demon instinct teemed to peewees them, A few rods more 1 The wolves seemed to feel that we had a thence, for they howl• ea more deviliebly than ever, With a swoop the horse turned in Spite of me, The left runner atruok high on the roots of a pine, and the Weigh swung over like a flesh, burying us in the new snow. Away sped the horse, and my boort Sunk as I heard his quick foot stops dying out towards hone l But I had no time to think. In truth, 1 Dan remember nothing distinctly. It all seems a uiehtmare whioh I can never forget. The maddened hack had followed the horse, and shot by us as we were thrown out upon the bank, for a number of rode. In an Latent, they were uptu us, I gave one long, desperate shout, in the hops of arousing the folks at the cabina, I had not time to shout again. Their hot breath burned upon me, and their dark masses gathered around like the shadows of doom. With a broken limb, I wildly kept them at bay for a moment ; but ' fierce and closer surged the gnu hang teeth, Gerry lay insensible on the ground before me. There was 000 more chance. A stunt• ed pine grew upon the outer edge of the bank, and shot out nearly horizontally over the river uelow, full a hundred feet from the surface, TSE 110I7SE: oLD. Ohxietma6 rare, The pleasures of Christmas acmmonce at the flint note of preparation for the eventful day, and its influence lasts long after the fua, frolic, and feasting hove become dim memories. It la emphatically a day of good cheer and mer•rymak-ng. In many homes it is a day of family reunion, and a time when old friends and merry young people gather in old homesteads, and sit around generous wide -spread boards telling mirth -provoking stor'ee of the long ego, and enjoying the happy present, What was once a day °f'fanting has now become a day of feasting, and the dinner ie considered the Drowning event of the day. It be fitting that at auoh times the larder ahould groan with plenty, and the table show in all its appointments that a time of Pleasure and festivity is at hand. The larg- est turkey, the yellowest pumpkin, the red- dest cranberries, and the cheesest fruit to be found in the markets, together with the matt savory cakes, richest puddings, and spiciest of pies, are brought forward to do honor to the occasion. Turkey and pumpkin pin have from time- honored custom become an indispensable part of the bill of fare for Christmas dinner. They are, however, ably sustained by a vari- ety of other dishes, to alt of whioh the wel- come guest is expected to do justice to an extent whioh is not demanded of him at any other time. Any kind of soup can bo served for a first count°. If oyster soup is chosen, it can be made after this recipe, and a most excellent result be scoured : • Cut two medium-sized bunches of celery into small pieces, add one quart of water, and stew briskly for fifteen minutes. Strain the j alae from two quarts of oysters ; remove all bits of shell from the oysters ; add one pint of water to the oyster juice ; place it over the fire, and add also one level tea- spoonful of salt, half that quantity of pepper, one-half pound of butter, and four table- spoonfuls of milk into which one table- spoonful of flour has been mixed smooth. AS soon as it boile, drop in the oysters and add the water from the oelery, straining it off carefully so that no bits of celery drop in. Serve as Poon as it bails up. Roasting is the general way of serving the Christmas bird, and variety is chiefly made for filling and 'gravy. A medium•sized turkey will require two and a half or threw hours' roasting ; a large one will need to be cooked an hour longer. When placed in the oven the p'.n should be covered over the bottom to the depth of an inch with water, and more added from time to time as it cooks away. The turkey must be heeded frequently with the gravy in the dripping -pan, an at least once with cold butter. A good plain stuffing is made by cutting a loaf of stale broad into small pieces, adding enough gait and pepper to Batson it high, and water sufficient to moisten thoroughly, but not to make it oo wet that it will not mould up into a firm ball. Stuff the turkey with this, filling the body and tho opening for the craw. 'Pte abo e forme the basis ofseveral kinds of filling, whioh are variously flavored with sage, sweet•marjoram, or thyme. It is wr11 to omit all such herbs unless it is known that they will suit the taste of all the com- pany, for it is better to have only a plain stuffing than to make it unpalatable to even one or two, A nice Muffin is made by moistening two cupfuls of bread cr. mbe and th9 Sam + quan- tity of crackers, rolled, with boiling milk, adding salt, pepper, and two hard-boiled eggs chopped fine, and mixing lightly but thoroughly. Whole oysters mixed with bread -crumbs make a most excellent staffing, which is liked by almost every one. Select small oysters, free them from all bits of shell, and drain them di'y ; add one-third as much bread - crumbs, moistened, as oysters ; re liberal supply of melted butter, salt, and pepper. A very gond addition to the above is a cup- ful of very finely chopped celery, It must b r borne in mind, ho':vorer, that variety is alwaya more acceptable than same- ness, and 'ref celery is used in the oyst'r soup, it should notalso appear in the etutl- lne, nor flavor the chopped cabbage. «'nits or brown gravy may be made, but the latter is to be pre'erred. For white gravy pour off into a pan a cupful of the clear gravy ; add one cupful of boiling water, two teaspoonful+ of flour mixed smooth. in one cupful of milk, and the juice of one large lemon. Stir all together until it has boiled for five minutes, To make brown gravy, pour off all the contents of the dripping•pan excepting about two cupfuls of tao brown gravy at the bittern ; to this add one cup• ful of boiling water, and two toa•apoatitnls of flour stirred smooth In half a cuptul of oold water. Cut up the liver and gizzard, and add them to tho gravy when ready to pour into the bowl, This gravy should be thin, smooth, and very brown. The taste of minoe•pios is as varied as their contents, and they aro good, bad, or indifferent according to the way the ingre• clients are propnrttoned. Mines -moat ahonld not be spiced too highly. It is bettor to take a email quantity of each of a variety of apices than to depend on a larger supply of one or two kinds to give flavor. A mince -meat which has been much prais- ed by every one who has tasted it, Is made ae follows : Take three pounds of cooked lean beef. two p undo of beef suet, five pounds of apt pies, two pounds of °arrants, throe pounds of raisins, one pound of nitron, three pounds of : ugar, one heaping teaspoonful if cinna- mon, same of ginger, same of nutm 'g, one scant half teaspoonful of cloves, same of mete, same of allspice, one level teaspoonful of salt, two wine giasafute of strong brandy, four of sherry, the juioo of two lemons, ono pint of water in whloh the fresh peel of two lemons has been boiled for three minutes, and into which has been stirred one tenibler of currant or gooseberry jelly, and as mush older as le needed to make the mince -moat auflinientty juicy, :Che moat, snot, apples, end raisins must be chopped as fine as pee- sable, and the citron cut into email thin hits. All bits of akin and gristle meet be carefully temoved fret the beef and the suet, and the suet especially must be miuoed to a powder, To ineare tho replete being Meanly dietrile uted, °rix them wlth the dry sugar, then mix sugar and moat togother before adding the rent of the ingredients. Mie all together thoroagbly, and set over fire until heated through. Pumpkin for pies should be dne.grsited Ind have a deep rich Dolor, If *quash le used in plane of pumpkia, the pies will have remote rimier fl»vor than if made out of the vegetable by whose name they are oelled. Peel end out the squash or pumpkin late ongstripe, and steam until tender; then pat though a fine sieve. Fur each pie allow one egg, halt a cupful of squooh. one oapfsi of boiling milk, two teaspoonfuls of sugar. and a quexter of a teatepooeful each of nut- meg and cinnamon, Beat together the squash sugar, egg, and spice ; then pour en the boiling milk, earring quickly all the time. Cranberries should always be aerved with roast turkey. They are much better whys prepared as follows than when stewed ha the ordinary way : Pat them on the fire to a large kettle with cold water anf laient to cover them well, cover closely, and 'stew until tender ; then put through a sieve to re. move the skins, return to the fire, and add enough sugar to sweeten to taste, P,emove from the fire as soon as thesugarjls thoroaglr ly dissolved, which, unless it is in harps, will be are soon as the fruit bells. Dashing madly in the teeth of the pack with my cudgel. I yelled with the waning amp' of despair, grasped C rrry with one arm, and dashed recklessly out upon the pine. I thought not of danger—I cared not. I braved one danger to escape a great- er. .1 reached the branches, and breathed freer, as I heard the fierce howl of the baffled pack. I turned my head, and, God of mercy 1 along shadow was gliding alcug the trunk to our last refuge, Carry was helpi::ae, and it required all the strength of, intense despair to hold her and remain upon the slippery trunk. I turned to face the wolf — he was within reach of my arm ! 1 struck with my fist, and again those fear- ful jaws shut with a enap as my hand brush- ed his head. With a demoniac growl he fastened upon the shoulder of Carry 1 0 for help—for a weapon—for' a foothold upon earth, whore I could have grappled with the monster. I heard the long fangs crunch into the flesh, and the smothered breathing, as the wolf continued to make sure of his hold. 0 it was horrible. f beat him over the head, but he only deigned a munching growl. I yelled, cursed, wept, prayed ; bat the hungry devil oared not for nurses or prayers. His companions were still whining, and venturing out upon the pine. I almost wished the tree would give way, The wolf still kept his hold upon Carry, None can dream how the blood hissed and swept through my knotted veins, At last the brute, hungry for hie prey, gave a wrench and nearly threw me from the pine. Carry was helpless and insensible. Even the crunching teeth of the monster did not awaken her from the deathly swoon into which see had fallen. Another wrench was made by the wolf, and Carry's waist slipped from my aching grasp, leaving me but 'the hold upon the skirt of her dress. The incarnate devil had not released his hold, but as if aware of danger beneath, retained his grip on the shoulder of Carry. ]he end heel coma 1 My brain reeled, Tho long body of the wolf hung downward • like a dark shadow into the abyss, fast . wearing out my remaining strength. The blood gushed warmly from my nostrils, and light° danced and flashed across my eye- balls. The overtaxed musolea of the hand would relax and as instantly close convul - sively upon the eluding akirt. I heard a tearing of etitcbes 1 The black mass be- neath writhed and wrenched, as if to deepen the hold. A sharp cracking mingled with the huinmiog of nol es in my 1 o3d, and the dresu parted at the weiet 1 I shrieked, as I heard the swooping sound of the fall of the black devil and bio victim, as they shot down, down into the darkness. i heard something like the. bay of the old bouse dog and the firing of guns - and heard no more. ♦ ,. * * w • Weeks and months pas ed away, before the fearful delirium of that Christmas night left me. I returned to consciousness in my father's cabin, an emaciated crew ure, as helpless as a child, My yet, th had passed away, and I waa prematurely old The raven black looks of twenty, had changed to the silvery ones of eighty years of age. Look at this arm that clung to Carry ! It is withered. I never have raised, it efnco that night. In any dreams 1 feel again that fearful night, and awake, Fevered with the cold, clammy sweat that gathered upon me while on that pine. The neighing of the horse, as he dashed into the clearing, had am used the people at home. The empty and broken sleigh told a brief story. The howling of tho wolves arose on the bleat, and with guns and the old house dog, they rushed to the scene, They found me senseless upon the trunk, covered with blood, and a wolf feeling his way towards me In turning at the sound of their apple ach, he slipped and went down upon the ice. Our people 1e eked long for Carry Mason but did not dad her until next morning. They then went down on the ice, and found her corpse, The wolves had not picked her crushed bones—I thanked God for that —The fall had partially broken the Ice, and the oozing stater had frozen and fastened her long black hair as it had floated out. The wcif had not released his death grasp, and his teeth were buried in her pure, white shoulder. Tho opting sunshine, and birds, and green leave. had comp again, as I tottered out, My Sisters led me to a grave on the river's bank—the grave of all my youthful hopes, and of all that I loved, The wild flowere were al ready eterting on the sacred mound. I wept over and blessed them, for they were blooming • upon the grave of CarSu h 'was the fate of my first and only leve. There never was but one Carry Mason, and eh° was sacrificed to the wolves forty- eight ortyeight years ago this Christmas night, o A profit without honor—the gambler'e, A man etartod on his bridal tour, amides - covered when the conductor came round that he hast bobght only one t ekot Tho minister had just pronouncecl tho oouplo " one," but no railroad company is going to cheat itself by recognizing any ouch author- ity in contradiction of mathematical facts, CHRIBTM 18 NIGHT IN THE BANKS. The Spectre Assam' ufthe l ieket I►fsaa One Christmas night, when Caster's men picketed the Shenandoah Valley against Early, a man was found dead on his post, es. sasainated. A powerful blo e, from a long, keen knife had finished him so suddenly thee he had not time to fire his oarbiue or cry out. Who had done this bloody deed ? Men asked the question of eaoh other, but no ole could answer it. It could not have been a comrade—no enemy waa near by. Tiaat gloomy winter's night, as the piokete were posted along the front of forest and thloket, the officer whispered to -each man as he left him on•hia post : a "Remember the murder of het' night 1 Let nobody approach from the woods." When the relief had passed out of hearing the lonely watch beg in A soldier may pace a beat or take up his station in a shadow of a tree to watch and listen for the enemy who has fought him in open day and keep Lis nerve, but the feeling that an seuassin may creep upon him and strike hien to the heart makes quite, another man of him. The wind blows up betimes in fierce gusts, roaring and sobbing among the hatless %reel, and again it dies away, until there to scarcely a rustling in the lauches. The fierce gases rouse the picket to intense watchfutnesa, sad the low rustling makes his heart boat faster. Wee it on this pont the picket of the night previous was murdered? He does not know, hut ae the thought flashes through his mind his eyes scan the earth at Ida feet,, 09 if blood would not rink into the Soil It mint have been this plat. There is that tonrrno of the thicket reaching out into the field to furnish cover for an aaea:sin, until within fifty feet of his victim. Teen advantr, e could be taken of the broken Ground to comae still nearer, and one whew° eves were mot looking for an assassin, woeld fail to detect him until he rose n.p to etriko, The night grows blacker, And the melt of wind whirls a snow flakeatteitestthe soldier's cheek. He starts as if struck wish a mlesi o. If storm be added to gale and darkness what chance has he against those whi may prowl with murder in their hearts ? H t is a men of nerve and ho fights m grime bee timidity creeping into his heart; 0 ,e who rides against a battery belching r;' ee and Danis• ter shouldd not fear to single man, if it be in storm and darkness. What ! The relief'ooming 1 He would bees made oath that ho hail not been on his post more than an hour. Yee, it must be the xe. lief. They are coming from the right dirge• tion, and there seems t be the right number. The assassin if he meditated farther blood- shed had been`baifled. His is the first lest laved The relief advances and ha calls out "Halt ! Who comes there 1' " Relief guard, with th3 countersign 1" "Advance, officer of the gnarl 1' The officer step+forward, and as he beads ever to whisper the word the picket drops his carbine, throws up his hands and elides to earth. Forward to peat No. 2 Forward frara that to No. 3 and down the line until No. S, the last in reached, The wind waves and ahrieka among the groaning trees, and t'"^,,e snow flies in great white clouds, bet the spect— ere move nu and on—from post to post—arras man to mem Tee snow deadens every foot- fall, there is never a whisper among tient. Silently, swiftly, grimly—without a cheek of saber to alarrn ••-without shot to armee, they move down the face of the forest, earl at each poet it: is the same : "Halt ! Who comes there 1' "Relief gotrd, with the countersign "" " Advance officer of the guard !" Now and then the stricken picket utters a half -soh or a man as the knife seeks his life, bat there is no souni to be heard abose the storm. The reserve, sheltered in their tents, half a mile away, would scarcely hear the report of a carbine, And the spec res came with noisleea tread, moved down the front of half a mile witia- out the echo of a foot -full, and departed as if taken up on the wings of the gale. Amts hour later another relief guard passed that way. Sabers clanked, men growled and cursed, and the officer at their head stumte- led ever a form in his path and rcaahtd ate feet to cry out " Dead 1 Murdered 1 Tho assantin kat been here again 1" And they drove on with the storm, fear- ing yet hoping. and poet No, 2 yielded sp its corpse, Then deep imprecation, and crime for vengeance are oanght ue by tires wind and sone along the path to the neat dorpso, and the next, and the next, bat are the guard gathered attend the eighth titers Vas never u whisper or word, Some niera, with vengeance in their ryes looked toward the forest for trews or sign. Others, whots faces were whiter than the snow driving &tonna them, looked across the fields, hue»- ing to see or hear a movement to give them the clue to a pursuit. There was no sign—no sound, The spas - tree had done `their work And vani•hdri, Ifo after days mon spoke of that dreadful night in low voices, and some wondered of the dead of the battle -field be 1 risen Lo make war again, Others tap"iod by oat whispered word "Guerrillas 1" • 1