Weekly Calaveras chronicle., 1868-03-28
A Touching Sacrifice.

ures that noble animal, the horse, than
is related in the following extract from
"Burrett's Mission of Great Sufferings,'
the scene of which is laid at a Dutch
settlement on the coast of Africa:
An English East Indiaman had run
upon reef or bar of sand long way
from the shore. The roaring, foamina
seas were leaping upon the deck, and
stamping it to pieces. They had crush.
ed the boats like so many eggshels, and
the frantic passengers were shriekine
in the tempest for help. The Dutch
settlers saw the sight and heard the cry,
and rushed down to the beach, appar-
emily to do nothing but see the waters
swallow up the men and women cling
ing to the rigging of the broken vessel,
for they had no boat to push out into
the surge, and none was within an
hours reach. The wreck would 90 to
pieces before raft could be made or
anything foated from the shore. HUI
man help there was none at first sight,
but at the sharpest cries of the agony a
Dutch farmer galloped down to the sea
on an Arabian mare, that was like an
other life to him and had carried him
through all the hazards of the wild
world and its wilder beasts, and seemed
to share her masters intelligence and
divine as we'll as obey his will. She
had swan rivers and waded morasses
with him on her back, and now without
a moments pause plunged into the sea
with rope attached to her tail The
brave creature shrank not an instant
from the fierce wrestle with the baying
waves. She struck them down with her
ironed hoofs, and breasted her way to
the ships side. 1t was but minute s
stay, and she was making for the shore
again, trailing row of men and women
clinging to the rope. The shouts of the
crowd awaiting to receive them seemed
to thrill her strained muscles with a
new vigor and wher her feet struck
the earth and she mounted on the beach,
and shook the salt water from her sides,
she looked round upon the half-drowned
beings she had dragged to land and life,
and it seemed given her of the God Of
us all to know that she had done good
act. Her master patted her on the
neck, as when they had faced the lions
together in the desert; he patted her
with eyes turned towards the ship. 1t
was but a minutes pause "Once
more, my Jenny, darling; once more" ="
and she turned her head and plunged
again, without touch or spur, into the
sea. Once more she plunged through
the surge, snorting over its briny crests.
Once more she wheeled at the ship
side and headed for the shore, trailing
another row of men behind her. Sew
eral times the poor animals head dipped
above her nostrils in breaking wave !;
many times she neighed as for help, as
she struck out heavily with the long
load dragging her down. She neared
the land, but more slowly than before,
and staggered up the ascent with trem-
bling limbs. The second long and des-
perate tug through the surge had strain
ed every nerve and muscle to its utmost
tension, and she stood quivering, blown
and exhausted.
There were several more human
beings left behind on the crashing,
broken hull ; the darkness was closing
in upon them, and certain death with
the darkness. The brave hearted Dutch
man heard that bitter cry, and saw that
narrowing sight. Could he do more ?
Could he try it again !? "Jenny, my
darling ! Jenny, can you do it p and
be put his arm around her neck fondly
and tenderly. She rubbed her head
against his cheek, as if she said !:
''Master, if you will it, I'll try. He
mounted her back, and without sense of
spur or rein, she turned and walked
straight into the foamiLg sea. Slow
ly, painfully, with weakening strokes,
she made her way to the ship, and once
more beaded for the shore with the last
passengers clinging to the rope. With
hands and voices uplifted stood the
crowd on the beach. "Oh, God of
mercy and might, give the poor creature
strength for this once" Her head is
lost for moment! "It's the wave be-
tween. There she rises see her name
on that white-cap. O heaven, be mer-
ciful Do you see her now? No, but I
see good Diedrich's head above the
water, reaching toward us. Now it's
gone. Oh, poor good man ! he's gone
down with his noble horse and all the
men he tried to save. Noble Diedrich
God bless his widow and fatherless
children ! Dear, good man he was
thinking more Of other mems widows
and fatherless children than of his own
when he made his last ride into the
sea.
That was the act of Dutch boor on
the coast of Africa-of man belonging
to class which many writers of history
and romance overlook in seeking for
great deeds of heroism and chivalry,
and for lofty sentiments of philanthropy
or patriotism. IF ever some one of the
class fitted for the task should undertake
to write the history of common work
ingmen and women of the world, deeds
and dispositions of the same order and
merit might be found to 6ll hundred
volumes.
The most laconic will on record is
that of man who died in 1859. It