The Evansville journal. [volume] (Evansville, Ind.) 1866-1870, 1870-07-28

side. dreading to move her, for she
seemed now doubly sacred in their
eyes.
Better that we should never have
found her." said Samson in q broken
voice.
"Teddy sure a find her some day.
Now fetch q water, and give her
drink" exclaimed the black; and tax.
ingu D what neither of the others had
noticed-the milking pail that the
poor girl must have carried from day
to day in her many wanderings-he
went off and 500 returned with water.
Keep back, fool" exclaimed An
derson, as the black pushed up Mary's
head, and scoopiDg up some water in
the hollow of his hand, he made as if
to pour it over the reclining form.
mo dead" exclaimed Teddy; give
her drink. Dahl" he calculated; for
at that momentA Anderson gave a cry of
joy on seeing a slight quiVering in one
eyelid, while the thin blue lips parted
TO emit q sigh. faint as that of the
wind above their heads.
They had reached the poor girl in
time; but so near bad she been to her
last breath that weeks elapsed, during
which she lay almost insensible upon
the borders of that unknown land to
which she had Sc nearly travelled, be-
fore she could be said to be out of
danger.
Hers was a simple story-one that
she often told in after years to Ander-
SIMS children, as, a happy wife, she
sat beneath his prosperous roof-a
story of how she had finished milking
a COW, and was carrying her pail to the
next, when the gliding form of a black
in his war paint attracted her atten-
ton. Her first idea was to flee to the
hut: but that she soon saw vas utter
" impossible, for figure after figure
appeared between her and safety, and
all she could do was 10 20 back quietly
into the scrub. and then, with the pail
she carried catching In the bushes, so
that the white milk splashed out from
time to time, she fed on hastily-al-
ways with the impression that she was
being tracked.
How it was she chung to the pail,
seemed to her a mystery; but it was
her salvation. for, utterly worn out at
last, she had fallen on her knees in
the dense wood as darkness came on,
dreadiDg to move, and now for the
first time she remembered the milk,
and drank eagerly of the remaining
but sadly diminished supply. The
next day she wandered on aud on,
helplessly lost, ever changing her
course, and fleeing in dread from the
blacks she felt assured we're on her
trail. The milk gave her life and
strength that day and the next, as she
husbanded aud eked out the failing
drops with water, till the time came
When all seemed q feverish dream,
wherein she was strugglir & on through
thorny wastes, with the hot sun pour
ing its ierVid beams upon her head.
She knew no more, for her next
recollection was of waking in her own
old bed at the hut, as from a long and
troubled dream, till a glance at her
wasted hands aud an attempt to rise,
told her that the dream was true.
The axe of the woodman, and FIRE,
have long since cleared the d~esolate
scrub, where heritage, the pasture of
many a herd and flock. has sprung up;
the advance of civilization, too. has
the wide plain with homestead
aud shepherds hut, whose fire.
queucy would now render such a ca
tastrophe almost impossible, save fur
Their up the country, where claims are
new. and civilization and savsgedom
still battle for the pre- eminence; but
the story is we'll known, and there
were. not long since. many who we're
willing TO point out the spot where
Mary Harris was found on the point
of death-Lost in the Scrub.