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