Newspaper Page Text
Vol. XVIII.—No. 84
THE abandoned Fort Pierce 8< Military Reservation was to be h opened for settlement. My company was ordered to a point 0 on the reserve opposite the town of n Pierce for the purpose of keeping the 81 intrusive “sooner” in his place. We w reached our camping ground on New 81 Year’s Day, pitched tents and proceed- 1 ed to make ourselves as comfortable G as our surroundings and a temperature of eighteen degrees below zero permit- c ted. A canvas tent is not a particularly 8 inviting abode in midwinter, but by 0 keeping up a good fire is at least habit- ° able. Usually when a person prepares c for slumber all surplus clothing is re moved. In our case, however, we t reversed this order and put on every- “ thing we had before submitting our- c selves to the tender mercies of the god c of sleep. c The only officer who accompanied c the command was our second-lieuten- i ant, lately graduated and appointed, I and known amongst the rank and file 8 as a “shave-tail.” All new officers re- 1 ceive this title and it is equivalent to t the term “rookey” used in speaking of i an addition to the ranks. This officer i was very considerate of his men’s com- < fort and on our first night in our new t quarters suffered in consequence. We * had made a long march that day and < had worked hard getting the ground 1 in shape for a permanent camp so 1 when night came all hands, except the 1 guard, turned in at an early hour. It < was my turn for guard and I struck ' the first relief. This brought me on < post at three a. m. Shortly after this 1 hour I noticed a light in the lieuten- * ant’s tent. This being too early for 1 him to turn out I went up to the tent and asked him if he was sick. “No,” 1 he replied, “but I am nearly frozen.” Then I opened up the flap and went in. ; The fire was out and so was the wood. He knowing that his men were tired did not wish to disturb them by call ing for a further supply of fuel, so tried to keep warm without it. Know ing this and realizing how disagreea ble the cold was I did my utmost to restrain my laughter, but the sight was too ridiculous and it burst forth. There he sat, huddled up in a buffalo coat, a blanket over his head and shoul ders and nothing visible but one hand and the end of his nose. The light came from a piece of candle about two inches long. He was holding his fin gers near its feeble flame and when he thought they had absorbed a little heat they were carried to his nose and laid tenderly upon that suffering part. 1 apologized for my unseemly mirth by going to the guard-tent and getting him a supply of wood sufficient to keep him comfortable until reveille. Next day we improved our camp and got things into order for a pro longed stay. N o “sooners” were seen or expected until spring and so for many days we had nothing to do but ordi nary camp routine. Then came the first indications of spring, the rising of the ice in the channel of the river. This was followed by chinook winds that melted the snow and made every little creek a torrent. It took but a few days to make the river impassable. Not only from the water flowing over the ice, but from the danger of a break up at any moment and crossing was strictly against orders. This was all very well, but when our supply of fresh meat gave out and bacon three times a day appeared on our bili-of fare things took a different phase. Several of our men attempted to cross in spite of orders, but after a ducking gave it up. One night a number of us were discussing the probability of the appearance of bristles and tusks from our sustained pork diet when a sud den call from a sentry caused us to perk up and listen. “Corporal of the guard, post No. 3,” was the cry we heard repeated by the 6/>e MIRROR (at the h^ Weehly 1 M Minnesota. Stkte I « IPrison y A NIGHT ALARM j STILLWATER, MINNESOTA, THURSDAY, MARCH 9, 1905. sentries on the nearer posts. Then we heard the corporal running towards No. 3, and at the same time a number of exolted voices yelling and making t noise enough to rouse the far-famed s seven sleepers. At the same moment fc we discerned amidst all the racket a a sound like the hoof beats of a horse. j Then came the stentorian tones of our t German sergeant, W eisenheimer, who i was sergeant of the guard. In his ex- f citement he forgot the words pre- t scribed by “Regulations” for such occasions so gave us a version of his j own. “Rouse mit der guard! He i comesl He comes!” s By this time every man was outside i the tents and in one voice exclaimed t “Sooners.” The racket continued but l owing to the pitchy darkness nothing i could be seen. Soon, however, its cause y came within range of the light from i our camp fires and alarm was turned j into uproarious laughter. First came a i plump yearling steer to the caudal ] appendage of which hung our friends i Private Firkin and “Rusty” Duckett, | then followed half a dozen others try- t ing to get near enough to the critter to i get a hold. The frightened animal , darted into an open tent which proved to be our lieutenant’s. Seeing no exit 1 ahead he turned to depart whence he < came, but that way was closed by his i pursuers. Trying again he dashed i blindly at the end of the tent, struck the upright and knocked it aside. The ] end of the tent gave way before his violence like tissue paper and he was again in the open. But he had in his blind dash for liberty ran afoul of a camp wash-stand. This proved to be his undoing for half a dozen eager hands found a hold on the stand and down he went. In a moment he was hog-tied as neatly as could be done by any cowboy and the struggle was over. Our lieutenant then had the cul prits arraigned before him and asked by what right they had taken pos , session of the animal. “Rusty” ex . plained that the several men connected . had gone up the river a few miles and i had found a bull-boat that had either [ been abandoned by some Indians or had floated down stream on the rising , water. Now, a bull-boat is made from . a large beef hide stretched over a round [ frame of willows. It is light, draws t but a few inches of water and to the ) uninitiated is as easy to handle as a tub. . An Indian, with a few stones for bal i last, can navigate a bull-boat as rapid t ly and safely as an expert oarsman I can the best built skiff. But to re [ sume “Rusty’s” explanation. He and j another managed to cross the river in j this erratic craft and soon found a j ranch. They stated our want of fresh meat to the rancher and by making a p joint “promise to pay” persuaded him _ to let them have the animal they had r brought to camp. The rancher, whose Y name certainly must have been Mark, _ also helped them lead their purchase e into their cruiser and cheerfully g pushed it into the bounding billows. . Just before their arrival at camp the g lively little steer had, by a backward y jerk, slipped the rope by which he was a lead from the hands of his leader and , made a dash for the welcome light. r Two managed to get a tail-hold and the rest of the tale we all know. 8 This satisfied our commander who II undoubtedly was as anxious to taste f a juicy steak as any of us. Next day e we slaughtered our prize, had three square meals of fresh beef and were ready for the next meal. “Did it taste s. good?” Ask “Rusty.” 1179. the Remedy. When trouble after you doth chase Why, turn and stare her In the face, And smile: And she will hurry from your sight, A smile will fill her full of fright; So smile. When worry hustles after you And dyes the world a brilliant hue, Just smile; A'grin will drive her far away, So let your laughter muscles play, Ami smile. ■ - , .» j... —Chicago Chronicle. “IT IS MEYER TOO LATE TO MEND.” The Conflict in the «$--$• Far East. A QUESTION we may ask, and solve within our own minds is, what has the conflict in the Far East brought to light? Since the outbreak of the war between Rus sia and Japan these two nations have had the rays of investigation searching among the hidden secrets of the present and the cherished history of the past in the endeavor to bring to light those elements that have mani fested themselves so plainly during the present conflict. It is a sad state of affairs when in the present enlightenment of the world two nations feel compelled to take up arms against each other, instead of arbitrat ing the points in question and abiding by the decisions of the arbitrating board. That such a conflict should ex ist in the present day, is not so strange when oae studies the existing condi tions of the two nations. Russia has always been looked upon as a Christian nation, while Japan as semi-heathen. Russia was considered one of the world’s great powers, while Japan was given a place among the second or third-class powers. By many Russia was considered progressive while Japan was looked upon as retroactive. AVe might call attention to many of the points of supposed differences, but our first question is, what has the con flict brought to light? Let us look at a few of the phases. First: That a nation divided in its self cannot battle successfully against a united nation. Second: The numerical difference in the fighting forces of the nations are eliminated by the nearness of the weaker nation to its base of supplies. Third: That the soldiers or fight ing strength of a nation, like a success ful business man, must be trained from A to Z. Fourth: That a nation may be con sidered a world power, yet be unpre pared to battle with the weakest of nations. Without further enlarging upon the features brought out so prominently by the war let us glance hastily at these two nations. We find in Russia today a spectacle that causes the heart of a liberty loving and liberty enjoying people to throb with sorrow and sym pathy. The Russian working class is oppressed, and because they have a grievance and attempt to tell their wrongs to the ruler of their country, they are ordered shot down as a pack of savages. The working classes are not the only ones oppressed. The j peasants are so burdened by taxes and restraints forced upon them by the aristocracy that they are barely able to keep body and soul together. Rus sia has its race problem, but instead of the colored man, the Jew is the one to suffer. That such a condition of affairs should exist is not surprising. Russia is a one man country so far as govern ment is concerned. The czar of Rus sia is an autocrat, and only those who are connected by blood relation or social standing reap the fruits of his governing powers, while the middle and lower classes must foot the bill or suffer the penalty. This is the natural consequence in any country where one man has complete control of pub lic affairs. In such a country as Russia is today the czar makes the laws and then ap points agents to see that they are en forced whether it ruins the middle or lower classes or not. Is it to be won dered at, that these agents are assassi nated by the oppressed? Should the world at large be astounded when they hear of the assassination of such men as Gen. Falinkoft, M. YonPlehve, Gen. Tcherrkoft, S. Soinlnen, and Grand Duke Sergius? I think not. Would the world be surprised to hear that the czar himself had met the fate of his appointees? I believe not. Why should such a state of affairs exist in this day and age in any coun try? We fiwd that the peasant and laboring classes ask for a voice in the government. The czar has promised them a limited voice in national affairs but so far has not kept faith with them. They are not asking for something un reasonable but for a few of the enjoy ments and privileges that are enjoyed by the citizens of the progressive nations. They have a country equally as great as any nation so far as natur al resources are concerned, and all they ask is that they may be granted free dom of speech, and relieved of the suckers who are sapping the very blood and sinew of the nation for personal aggrandizement of a selfish few. What the masses there want is an education al system whereby those of the future, upon whose shoulders will rest the re sponsibilities of citizenship, will not be brought up in ignorance. On the other hand, we find in Japan a unity of interests. There }s no groan from the oppressed. The Japanese are a united people, progressive in every sense of the word. When one realizes that Japan has in less than fifty years developed into one of the strongest of powers, we can draw but one con clusion, and that is, Japan has not only accepted the best that other na tions have, but she has taken these theories and made practical use of them. There is no question as to the final outcome of the present conflict with Russia. A country cannot engage another successfully when revolution is sapping that country from within. The present conflict has awakened the Russian middle and lower classes to the fact that they are being oppressed and that the time for them to relieve themselves of the oppressed is at hand. We wish them success and may the spirit of 1776 settle over the Russian Empire. Eilsel A Child’s Voice. FATE had left Ray stripped and wounded on the highway of life; it had taken from him all be- lief in women; it had made for ever impossible for him, his old creed of the joy of mere existence; it had killed his youth. Was he now to get up and crawl on, and drag through the rest of his life as best he could? Why, what was life worth to him now? He had been a fool ever to believe in it; it was as his sweetheart had once told him, he had believed that it was all suffi cient merely because he had never known unhappiness, “The first time nature says plain ‘No’ To some ‘Yes’in you, and walks over you In gorgeous sweeps of scorn.” His heart was so utterly dead that he could not even think of his home; neither his mother nor sister rose be fore him as he looked down that long, dreary vista of life that lay beyond. He could only see that Grace was no longer his; that the Grace he had loved and believed in had never really existed; that he had been utterly deceived, cheated, defrauded; and that some thing had been taken from him which could never return. “I will not live a day longer,” he said to himself; “not an hour longer.” And in the relief of having some attainable thing to desire ardently, were it only death and annihilation, he quickened his pace and felt a sort of renewal of energy and life within him, urging him on, holding before him the one aim which he thought was most pressing. He would end it all quickly, he would not linger on, weakly bemoaning his fate, or railing at life for having failed him and disappointed his hopes; he would just put an end to everything without more ado. As to arguing with himself about the right or wrong of the matter, such a notion never oc curred to him, he just walked blindly on, certain that some opportunity would present itself, buoyed up by an unreasoning hope that death would bring him relief. By this time a vague memory came back to him; he remembered that he Tcrub.l sl.ooper year, In advance 1 t MB.-j glx jJonths so cents had crossed a bridge. There was water over there. It should be that way. And he walked on more rapid ly than before, still with an almost dazzling perception of all the trilling little details, the color of the dry, dusty road, the green of the turf, the dresses of those who passed by him. the sound of their voices. He would get away from all this—would wait till it was dark, when he would steal down un noticed to the water. He walked along the north shore of the — 7 , passed the receiving house of the hu mane society, with an unconcerned thought that his lifeless body would probably be taken there, and at length finding a seat under a tree close to the water’s edge, sat down to wait for the darkness. A bird was singing in the beech tree above him; its song jarred on him just as much as the beauty of the sunset, it seemed to urge him to leave the place where he was not want ed, to take himself out of a world which was meant for beauty and bright ness and success, a world which had no sympathy for failure or misery. Presently footsteps on the path made him look up; a shabbily dressed girl walked slowly by, she was absorbed in a newspaper story and did not notice him; neither did she notice her charge, a pale-faced, dark-eyed little girl of about six years old who followed her at some distance, chanting a pretty, monotonous little tune as she dragged a toy-cart along the gravel. Hay no ticed in an instant every tiniest detail of the child’s face and dress and bear ing, the curious anatomy of the wooden horse, the heap of golden leaves in the little cart. As the child drew nearer, the words of be came perceptibly audible to him. She sang very slowly, and in a sort of un conscious way, as if she couldn’t help it: “Comfort every sufferer, Watching late in pain—” She paused to put another handful of leaves into the cart, arranged them with great care, patted the wooden steed, and resumed her song as if there had been no interruption “Those who plan some evil, From their sin restrain.” Ray felt as if a knife had been sud denly plunged into him; he tried to hear more, but the words died away, he could only follow the monotonous little tune in the clear voice, and the rattling of the toy cart on the path way. And so the child passed out of his sight. He was alone again, and the twi light for which he had longed was fast closing in upon him; night was com ing on. What was the terrible new struggle which was going on within him? Evil, Sin; could he not at least do what he would with his own life ? Where was the harm in ending that which was hopelessly spoiled and ruined ? A voice within him answered his question plainly. “To the man with a diseased brain— the man who doesn’t know what he is about—it is no worse an end than to die in bed of a fever.” Fight against it as he would, he could not stifle this new consciousness which had arisen within him. What had led him, he angrily wondered, to choose that particular place to wait in? W hat had made that child walk past ? What had induced her to sing those particular words? Did that vague First Cause, in whom after a fashion he believed, take any heed in trifles such as those? He would never believe that. Only women or children could hold such a creed; only those who led sheltered, innocent, ignorant lives. But a man—a man who had just learned what the world really was, who saw that the weakest went to the wall, and might triumphed over right—a man who had once believed in the beauty of life and had been bitterly disappointed—could never believe in a God who ordered all things for good. It was a chance, a mere unlucky chance, yet the child’s words had made it impossible for him to commit sui cide. A. R.