Edgefield advertiser. [volume] (Edgefield, S.C.) 1836-current, 1859-02-23

of primeval happiness, now lit up, with his frs
rays, smoldering ruins, blackened walls, two
charred and grinning skeletons, sad memorial:
of yesterdays happiness, two flowers breathec
upon by death ere they were faded or soiled by
the simoons of hot and pestilent world.
Ten years have flown by since that night o.
horrors. Ten years of sorrow, pain, joy; ten
years Of stupendous change. In that time have
been enacted some of the most sublime dramas
of Time; the Lone Star of Texas still shine:
brightly in the armament +; but ominous clouds
seem to threaten its brillancy. Mexico again
asserts her right to that beautiful province
wrested from her grasp by the heroes of San
Jacinto. The tocsin of war again resounds over
the rich prarics; and everywhere the people
are eager to "whip Mexico" Recruiting Offices
are everywhere opened and into one of these
let US stop for a moment, reader, and study the
rich variety of originals which we shall find
there. AS we enter, a fine manly voice is troll
ling some fnc old ballad, commemorative of
American prowess by sea and land. Here, sit
ting on the bare floor is party Of hunters,
looking Oh at the strange doings-to them-of
their moro civilized companions. Suddenly all
are hushed still as death, for they instnctively
know that some deed Of blood and violence is
about to be perpetrated. "Liar!" shouts a tall
commanding man to covering and frightened
man at his feet; "you are one Of the villains
who burnt my house, murdered my wife and
child, and would have served me the same way
if had not got out Of your clutches; you are
the last Of 'em. but it shall never he said that
Jack West ever took the life of his bittercSt foe
without y chance; your mustang is good one;
mount him, and if you can get away you can
have your life, but if can catch you, no mercy,
for you internal gang showed HE and mine
none. Go, five minutes. start, and the Lord
have mercy on you if the mustang fails you"
The speaker turned, and walking up to the light,
commenced putting fresh caps on his revolver,
and arranging his arms. The man to whom he
had been speaking arose, and casting look of
hatred and fear at West, rushed precipitately
from the room.
"What do you intend to do to him, Colonel 2"
asked pompOus, portly individual coming up,
and laying his hand fa,niarly on the shoulders
of West.
Send him to hell" wa1 the instant reply,
and the large man shrunk back into the crowd,
for all knew the character of West, and none
cared te arou.e him.
Without word to anyone, he left the room,
and in moment the furious beat of his horses
hoolS told that the avenger was on the track Of
his victim. For miles and miles the prairie |
stretched out like an undulatng sea, terminating
its waves Of verlure in all immense cypress |
swamp; and toward this swampthe wretch who
was then strangely afforded chance of bis life
was now fastening with frantic speed. 1t was
4 strange race. The moon, full orbed, rode
high in the heavens shedding flood of silvery
cadiLe,e on al Objects making It almost as
Teigned around, broken only tramp;
tramp Of the pursued and pursuer. Nearer and
nearer does he draw to the doomed wretch, and
with shrek Of despair does the hopeless man
see that it is impossible for him to reach that
place of refuge Even now the breath Of his
sncmy'S stced Comes like fire into bis face, and
with one n,ure bound they are side by slde'
"Sparc, mo! 0, for COTS sake, mercy"
yelled the terror stricken fugitive,
The only answer was sharp, quick flash
stunning report, and the murderer stood in the
presence uf that God whom he had outraged by |
bis crime on ealta. Gone! unaneled, unan-
nontcd, with his white, CHASTITY face unturned
to the sky, and the red blood dabbng the
sweet white flowers, the last Of that murdcrouS |
hand which ha.l married forever the happiness |
of tine cold stern man sitting on his horse, look
ing impassiyey on the face of tue dead man,
thinking trealnily, perhaps, OF the dear home
and its dearer inmates, lost to him in this world
forever.
Reader, this is no fancy sketch. John West
is not the name of the man, one incident OF
whose varied life we have endeavored to give
YOU; but his name is inscribed high on the rolls
of fame. Should this ever meot the eye of
Texan Ranger he will, perhaps, remember the
night before the walls Of Monterey, where ne
told this story to his companions ani stripping
who formed one of the group Of listeners.