Stevens County tribune. (Morris, Minn.) 1877-1880, 1879-11-13

The Wynnes were rich, and travelled,
| as people OF means and station usually
do, comfortably. Their tent-with its
gilded ball towering alott, and Its COM
partments walled in with snowy canvass
carefully pegged down-was large and
handsOme; whereas the black little COW
ering under which l slept, with my good
horse, which had for years been the COM
rade OF my rambles, tethered outside,
was just such shelter as an Arad or
| Kurd required. They had servants, too,
such as they were-a set of rpscally Lev
antines-half of whom, more scared by
the hardships of the desert than by the
plague, absconded, and went off with
everything salable and portable towards
the heshpots of Bagdad. On the eve
ming OF the seventh day, as I was picquet-
ing my horse. l received an urgent invi-
tation from Miss Wynne begging me to
| to come at once. did not lose minute
in Obeying the summons.
My worst fears were confirmed. Mr..
Wynne, who had on that day, repeatedly
complained of headache and lassitude,
was very ill, and there could be no doubt
as to his symptoms being those of the
fell disorder to which so many of our
company had already succumbed. All
that care and loving-kindness could do
was to alleviate the pains of impending
death-for, from the first, it was evident
that the case was hopeless. Before Mr..
| Wynne died he took my hand.
"Yo1 are our friend" he said, in his
weak voice, and our countryman. l am
obliged to leave my girl alone here.
Promise me, Harold Marston, on the
word OF Christian gentleman, that you
wlll-see her safe-home."
He ceased to speak, and said no other
articulate word; but gave the pledge ne
asked of me, and performed it faithfully.
| Those were sad and tollsome days that
succeeded. Ethels grief was deep and
bitter, and it had needed all the argu-
ments and entreaties that could cOnjure
up to induce her to accompany the mex
Orable onward movement of the caravan,
leaving her father In the hurriedly made
| grave beneath cairn of loose stones. in
which my hands had helped to lay him.
In the long, slow march was now al
ways by her side, doing my best to rouse
her tagging spirits by speaking OF Eng
land, of her old home, her absent brother,
and the friends who loved her. She
seemed grateful for my kindness, and re-
posed full confidence in me; and, indeed,
l had enough to do in keeping her IA
theirs remaining servants to their duty,
and in providing for her comfort at the
hating places, as with diminished num-
bers we went on-the jackals' dOletul
howl our lullaby, the vultures ever hover
ing over our doomed heads.
1t was on the twelfth days march that
we reached, In struggling order, the river
KhabOur-a swift but shallow feeder of
the mighty Euphrates; and, as we forded
it, party of mounted Bedoulns dashed
out from among the sandhills, and made
u swoop upon us in quest OF captives and
booty. / sec the scene yet-the long
lines of laden canels, the wild horsemen
brandishing their spears, Or pointing their
guns. the panic among the merchants and
pilgrims, and the squirting forward of
the Turkish irregular calvary to clear the
way. The marauders were baked of
their prey. They had probably heard
rumors of our condition, and had over
estimated our helplessness, for avolley
from the Hyta Basins of the escort put
them to flight, and they dispersed at once
securing over the sand, and hooking,
with derisive gestures the efforts Of the
heavily -accoutred troopers to overtake
them.
All the Bedouins, however, did not
take their disappointment as a jesting
matter, for two or three of those who
} had gained the opposite bank dismount-
ed and took deliberate shots With their
} long guns at the foremost Of US. One
matchbox bali, and one only, seemed
! to take effect, for Ethel's camel reared
suddenly, with the screaming cry which
those huge beasts utter when under the
influence of rage or pain, and fell, crush
: ing down the camel-driver who held it
3 by the halter and hurting his fair burden
4 into the rocky bed of the stream that
: brawled and raved as it made its way
! past, fed by late rain storm among the
: Kurdish Mountains, toward the great
e river. Fortunately l was within ear
: shot, and, hearing Miss Wynne's cry Of
8 alarm, dashed my spurs into my horses
f TANKS and, half swimming, half STUN
v bling among loose stones, reached the
n place where the girls bright hair tloated
g on the turbld water, and by great ex
t ertion was able to rescue her from the
: fate that seemed eminent, and to beal
h her, pale and insensiblc, like some droop
: ing lily that has been beaten down By
q hail and rain, to the shore.
8 The firing had ceased, save that oul
s soldiers sometimes sent bullet afte,
= the flying robbers, anc all danger wa
r, over, so far az the attack was concerned
d but Ethel had been partially stunned b,
o the shock Of the fall, and she lay helpless
ii with halt-closed eyes, moaning slightly
d AS tried, assisted by one of the Aral
l. camel-driyers who had just come up, t
&, raise and revive her, an exclamation from
s. my rude companion made me start.
l. ''She, too-the Frangi princess!' NUT
s, tered the Arab. "Well, it was written {!
le And, following the direction of the man
y gaze, saw, with horror that words ar
too weak to express, on Ethel Wynne'
IT bare white wrist dark, discolored spo
,e somewhat swelled and of blush tin
n edged with angry red. The can1el-drive
D. had been the first to note this. Their
le was a strange sort of pity in his hard
D. eyes as they met mine which con6rmc
re my fears. Yes. had saved Ethel fror
IN one death only to lose her by one MOI
he dreadful; for the plague-I knew it bu
III too well-had set its mark upon her, an
a. she was, all unwittingly, sickening of th
It. direful pestilence that had deprived he
e. of her father. Then too for the first tim
r. learned to read nay own heart, and
Id know how very, very dear the sweet gi