Raftsman's journal. [volume] (Clearfield, Pa.) 1854-1948, 1868-03-11
ZENAS OAREY,s REWARD.

ZENAS UAREY'S REWARD.
Red and sullen like the eye of some
baetul demon, the low sun glowed through
the tangled depths of the November woods
casting bloody lines Of light across the fall
len trees, whose messy trunks were half hid
den in the drifts of faded yellow leaves, and
evoklng faint, sweet scents like Orient san
dai wood and teek, from thousand forest
censors hidden away, who knows how or
where. And through that line of dull fam
ing fire the sky frowned-a leaden gray con-
cave, freighted, as the weatherwise would
tell you with snowfiakes sufficient to turn
that broken forestinto fairy grove Of pearl
and ermine. So the daylight was ebbing
away IRON this Thanksgiving eve.
Now Iwonder where am ?' said John
Siddons, pausing abruptly in the scarse Wis
IDLE footpath that wound among the trees.
AS completely turned around as though
| stood in the deserts of Egypt | wish
had been sensible enough to keep to the
right road; these short cuts generally turn
cut long ones. However if [ keep straight
ahead | must inevitably emerge from these
woods somewhere
he sat down on mossy stump, leaning
his head carelessly on his hand, while the
other played, ,unconseiously with the worn
brIm OF his blue soldier cap sls,da-
pleasant faced young man, with grey-blue
eyes, and dark hair thrown back from
bronzed forehead, which had been touched
by the fiery arrows of many Southern sun
IN lonely swamps, and along the feverreek-
ihg shores of sullen rivers.
'Houseless-homeless he murmered
10 himself Il wonder how many others
are saying the same thing this Thanksglv-
ing eve. To think that should pass through
the campaign unhurt, and return with an
honorable discharge in my pocket to place
where no one knows or cares whether am
alive or dead, while SO many brave fellows
we're shot down by my side with bullets that
tore through score of hearts at home, car
rying sharper pangs than death has to givel
Its a queer thing to have only one relative
in the world, and he a total stranger. IL |
find this second cousin OF my father he Ii
probably kick Inc out OF doors tor a shiftiess
soldering vagabond. But hang 1t, man
can't live alone like tortoise IN his she'll.
| remember wondering, when was boy,
why the Madeira vines over the porch stretch
ed out their green tendrls, and seemed to
grope through the sunshine for something
to cling to. | think | understand it now.
He rose up and walked on through the
russet leaves that rustled ankle deep beneath
his tread, still nusing-muslng trying to
great equation while the sun went down
behind bank of lurid clouds, and the chill
night wind began to sigh sorrowfnlly IN the
tree tops. And suddenly the sturdy woods
tapered off into silver stemmed thlcket OF
white birches that fringed lonely country
road With little red house beyond, whose WIN
dows were aglow with freight, and whose
door ward was full of the peculiar perfume
Of white and maroon blosSomed chyrsan-
themumS.
Zenas Carey was leaning over the gate
surveying the stormy sunset With critical eyes
Il told Melinday sol" calculated Zenas,
apparently addressing himself to the crook
ed apple tree by the road ''I'll bet my
best steer we have good old fashioned fall
Of snow to keep Thanksgivin with. smelt
II in the air this mornln, but women don
never believe nothin' until it comes to pass
right under their noses, for
This rather obscure sentence was nlpped
IN the bud by footstep at his side. Aenas
turned abruptly to reconnoltre the new ar
rival
'Will you be kind enough to give me a
glass of water sirP" asked John Siddons,
Yearly
.Sartin sir y said Zenas. $50 you're
soldier, hey?' -
a returned SOLDIER said Siddons, drain,
ing the cool element from the coca nut sheli
edat always lay close to the well at the side
Of the house. ~,
Coin beme to keep Thanksglvln !
questioned Zenas. -,
Home sir, I have no homel' -
SiddOns had spoken sharply, as II the
thought were goading to him. Zenas put
out broad knotty hand and grasped the
letreating man arm.
My boyl'' he said with kindly abrupt
hess you're soldier. and to tell by YOU
looks guess you re about the age OF MN
that buried at Gettysburg-my only son
Hove that blue uniform for David 5 sake,
aud if there 5 a soldier in the world thai
hasn't home to go to Thanksgivin' eve
there's corner for him by Zenas Carey
hreside. Come in sir! come in Your
Welcome as flowers in May"
John looked into the wet eyes and work