The daily phoenix. [volume] (Columbia, S.C.) 1865-1878, 1866-08-26
THE GREAT DROUGHT
CHAPTER TIT.

NeanWn1Ie, poor Ellen Wa1CeQ aDx-
iously in the cavern, and rs soon as
the first possible moment for Paulett's
return was passed, her fears grew
strong. There was so much danger
for him in the bare desert, with his
scanty supply of water, that she
might well listen to fear as soon as it
had any reason to make itself heard;
and with this dread, when she next
drew water from her scanty supply,
came the horrible torment of the
anticipated death by thirst, which
seemed descendingupon her children
and her. The day sho had thought
he would return rose and set, and so
did another and another; and from
fearing she had begun to believe, in
deed, that Paulett's earthly hours
were passed; yet hope would not be
subdued entirely; and then she felt
that perhaps by prolonging their
lives another day only, She should
save them to welcome him, 1lud to
profit by his hard-earned treasure.
The store of water was sacredly pre-
cious. She dealt it out in the small
est portions to her children, and she
herself scarcely wetted her lips; she
hardened her heart to see her boys
pale face, her girls feverish eye; she
checked even the motherly tender.
ness of her habits, lest the softening
of her heart should overcome her
resolution; and so she laid them in
their beds the third night of her
dread, when, indeed, there was
scarce another days supply. She
herself lay on hers, but deadly anx-
iety kept her from sleeping, and her
ears ached with the silence which
ought to have been broken by step.
And at last, oh, Joy! there was foot.
Yes; q few moments made that GER
tain which, from the first, indeed,
she believed, but which was so faint
that it wanted confirmation to her
bodily sense. Up sprang Ellen, and
darted to meet him. She held for
ward the candle into the air, and 10!
1T was q woman. Ellen screamed
aloud; the woman had seen her be-
fore, and said nothing-only pressed
forward. "Who are you?'' cried
Ellen; ''are you alive?" eyes, just
alive; and see here" said the wo-
man, uncovering the face of her
young child; E'my child is just alive,
too. Give me water before it dies ~
Then my children will perish"
said Ellen.
'No, no." said the woman; show
are you alive now, unless you have
plenty? All'mine are gone but this
one. My husband died yesterday;
ours has been gone days.
''My husband is dead, too" said
Ellen, "and I have only one draught
left.''
''Then I will take it, said the
mother, rushing forward.
Ellen caught her and struggled
with her. The poor child moaned
in its mothers arms, and pang shot
through the breast of Ellen. "For
Gods sake, miserable woman" she
said. ''do not go near that basin!
You are mad with want; you will
leave none for my children. Stay
here and [ will bring your child
water. You and I can want, and
rJ;'rs and mine can drink"
but the desperate woman passed
''A' -ASi GO I1ACo Ou VIC WtIUoT anu
''ilated with intense desire; her lips
vide open, dying almost for the
draught. Ellen's soul was concen-
trated in the fear that the last hope
Of her boy and girls life was about
to be lost; she struggled with the
woman with all her might; she
screamed aloud; she lost her hold;
she seized pistol from the table,
and, close as she was to her adver-
aary, fired it full at her. The mother
fell with shrek. Ellen started for
ward and broke her fall, and laid
hold on the child to free it from her
dying grasp.
Give him mo, give him mer' said
the mother, struggling to lift herself
mp, and stretching her hands ont for
the boy.
The trembling Ellen stopped to
give him to her, but tho child's head
dropped on one side as she held him
out. He made no effort to get into
his mothers arms. Ellen wildly
raised his face, and he was dead. too
The shot had gone through his
breast to his mothers, and a little
blood began to steal from his lips.
"He's dead" said the mother, who
was herself passing away. ooh, nv
boy?' and then feebly, with her fast
failing strength, she raised him, after
moro than ono effort io bos, ar,na