Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1873-03-11

THE DUTCH BoOR AND HIS HORSE.

When Twas small boy, said Elihu Bur-
ritt, and went to school, too young to read.
heard thing read of horse that made
both my cheeks wet with hot tears. The
man who owned the horse lived ct the Cape
Of Good Hope, and was called Dutch
boor or poor man of Dutch blood, who was
born on the soil Of that hot land, and titled
1t with the plough and hoe. He was kind
man at heart. though rough in look and
speech. He loved his horse and she loved
him, and was with him by day and near
him by night. She was proud to have him
on her back. and would dash through
swamps, ponds, and fire, if he wished It.
But one day came that was to prove the
faith and love Of her stout heart, and the
soul OF the man. A great storm came down
ON the sea. The waves roared and rose -
with rage at the winds, that smote them
with all their might. The clouds tapped
them with black wings. Night drew near.
and 1t was scene to make one quake with
fear. Right in the midst Of all this. rage
and roar of wind and sea, great ship.
with sails rent and helm gone, came In
sight 1t rode on the high, white waves,
straight on reef of rocks too far from
shore to reach with rope. The ship was
full OF young and old, whose cries for help
could be heard, loud as was the voice Of
the storm. Their boats were gone like the
shells Of eggs. There was no wood nor
time to build raft. The waves leaped
on the ship like great white wolves bent
upon their prey. How could one soul Of
them all be saved? +
| The men on shore could but look on the
sad sight. They could give no help. They
had no boat nor RATS and their hearts were
sick in them. Then the Dutch boor was
seen to draw near at full speed on his horse.
Down he came to the beach. nor did stop
there one breath Of time He spoke
word to her which she knew, and with no
touch of whip Or spur she dashed In and
swan the sea to the ships side with rope
tied to her tail. She wheeled and stamped
her way on the white surge with row of
men to the shore. There she stopped but
for breath. At the soft word and touch
she knew so well she turned and once
more ploughed through the surge TO the
ship, and brought back a load Of young
and old. Once more she stood on tho
beach, amidst tears of joy that fell from
all eyes. She stood there weak; as wet
with sweat as with the sea. The night
fell down fast on the ship. There were
still few more left on it, and their cries
for help came on the wind to the shore.
The cries from the Ship pierced it through
and through. He could not bear to hear
them. He spoke low. soft word to his
horse. He put his hand to her neck, and
seemed to ask her if she could do it, She
turned her head to him with look that
meant. "If You twish it. willltry." He
did wish it, and she tried, to the last pulse
of her heart. She walked straight out In
the sea.
All on shore held their breath at the
sight. She was weak but brave. Now
and then the white surge buried her head;
then she rose and shook the brine out Of
her eyes. Foot by foot she neared the ship.
Now the last man had caught the rope.
Once more she turned her head to the
beach. Shouts and prayers came from it
to keep up her strength. The tug was for
a life she loved more than her own. She
broke her veins for it half way tween ship
and shore. She could lift her feet no
more. Her name lay like black seaweed
on the waves while she tried to catch one
more breath. Then. with q groan. she
went down with all the load she bore, and
wall went out from the land for the loss
of life that had saved from death near
ships crew of men.
| Thus dared and died in the sea the
brave Dutch boor and his horse. They
were, as friends, one in life, one In death;
and both might well have place and rank
with the best lives and deaths we read Of
in books for young and old.