Mineral Point tribune. (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1869-1938, 1873-01-30
a company of armed and desperate

InO nOur passes, ana on now chang
ed the scene! The sullen wave breaks
still upon the shore, but it's sound is
deadened by the cries of those some.
time sleepers, by heather shouts and
savage war cries, while fast and fast
the mothers fly out into the cold. They
drag their children after them, and
gather their infants to their breasts,
thinking it better the frost should slay
them than the keen knife of the muir
derers. The snow is blotted now with
spots of deeper red, and the air filed
with the clash of weapons, the wailing
of children, the heavy fall of murder
ed men, and the shrieks of mad despair.
The wild creatures start from their
lairs, and the icebergs echo with their
cries the screaming birds rush past
af1righted, the dogs howl, but the
struggle is not for long.
| The hour is past ruin and raplne
and revenge have done their work the
| blazing tirebrands are torn from the
! heaIths, and flung out to be quenched
in the snow; they flare IN the faces of
the dead--dead father, dead mother,
dead child. There are many of them,
and none but the dogs make lament.
ton, while, fast as tears, the snow br
gins to fall. 1t is more merciful than
warfare, more pitiful than man, lur
slowly ana softly it does the work left
undone of human hands; it first
shrouds, and then buries, the murdered
dead.
The sword has slain some but the
cold more. In few days the sun be-
gins to shine. First he shows an edge
of amber above thehills, then he comes
high up and floods the sea with gold :;
he puts out the stars; he covers the ice
bergs with rainbow CLEANS, but there
is no human eye to greet his appear
ance: the shores of that ice bound bay
are utterly empty and still.
! A vessel comes up from the south
it carries little cabin-boy among its
crew, and he thinks when he sees
the ice mountains rearing up their
! desolate heads, and hears the stiff
ropes rafting, that never again shall
! he behold his native fields. He PAGES
the deck; it is all white with snow; he
hears the plunging of the great whales
! the bowling of the bears, and the
crashing of the ice as the vessel wades
and labors through it. He is very
much afraid. for he is but child !;
yet he keeps his hardships and his
fears to himself. He knows the rough
sailors would but laugh at them.
He watches and Watches he is in n
wonderful and beautiful region---in
color most splendid, but desolate and
inhospitable. Every day the sun
gets little higher, and the vessel
sails yet further to the north. At
last she rides at anchor in the very bay
that we have spoken Of, and shortly
the sailors push off boat. The cap.
tain has given them leave to land; they
are going ashore to shoot ptarmigans,
and they call the little cabin-boy to
come with them. They are noisy,
reckless set of men. but they had not
landed long before they begin to walk
silently, and look at one another; they
watch their footsteps with care, for, Mt
intervals not very vide apart, piece
of fur raiment, or lock of woman's
hair stands out from the snow. The
sailors press up into the country, first
setting up flag -statf on the hill to guide
them back, and then telling the little
cabin boy to play near it, while they
hunt and shoot ptarmigans.
He is afraid to be alone, and does
not care to play he wanders about
and climbs among the cliffs, taking
care to keep the ship in view. At last
he finds q crevice in snow wall he
knows it must be the wall of hut,
and he widens it and creeps in. A red
sunbeam follows him, and lies along
the floor; there are white ashes on the
cold hearth, and scattered around it
lie weapons and garments, rude har
ness, and cooking utensils.
Everything is frozen he
looks round-there is IL raised
place in one corner covered
with skins of animals; something lies
upon them, it is carefully folded, all
| but The face and the small dimpled
hands, for, alas he sees that it is n
! little dead child frozen to death among
its furs it had fallen to sleep when
the fire was bright--when it went cut,
the baby died. The little plump
cheek looks just, the boy thinks, as it
must have done III life; quiet smile
seems to hover about its lips, and in
the half-lght he thinks, as he moves,
the baby-features change. The little
cabin boy turns away; he feels the
tears rise into his eyes but suddenly
he starts and looks quickly round
can it be that he has heard the child
movel No, he sees that it is
certainly dead, but something begins
to sing; he looks nearer, and nesting
among the thick folds of fur, which
cover the baby's breast, sits little bird
yes, a living bird. She sits and
broods over her snow-white eggs, for
she has built her nest and made 1T
warm and soft, she has sung the lula
by of the sleeping child, and her little
cnes will chirp and fiutter close to
those needless ears and silent lips.
The Snowflake Is wise she is not