The Cambria freeman. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1867-1938, 1880-07-09
THE DRUMMER BOY,

One cold December morning about eighty
years ago, party of tourists were crossing
the Alps-and pretty large party, too, for
there were several thousands of them togeth-
er. Some were riding, some walking, and
most of them had knapsacks on their shouI-
ders, like many Alpine tourists nowadays
But instead of waIking-sticks they carried
muskets and bayonets, and dragged along
with them some fifty or sixty cannon.
In fact, these tourists were nothing less
than a French army and a very hard time Of
it they seemed to be having. Irving work.
certainly, even for the strongest man, to
wade for miles through knee-deep snow in
this bitter frost and biting wind, along these
narrow, slippery mountain-paths, with pre-
cipices hundreds Of feet deep pall round. The
soldiers looked thin and heavy-eyed for want
of food and sleep, and the poor horses that
were dragging the Heavy guns stumbled at
every step.
But there was one among them who seem
ed quite to enjoy the rough marching, and
tramped along through the deep snow and
cold, gray mist, through which the great
mountain peaks overhead loomed like shad-
owy giants as merrily as if he were going to
picmc. This was little drummer-boy of
10 years old, whose fresh, rosy face looked
very bright and pretty among the grim, scar
red visages of the old soldiers. When the
cutting wind whirled a shower of snow in his
face he dashed it away with a CHEEKY laugh,
and awoke all the echoes with the lively rat
tie of his drum, till it seemed as if the huge
black rocks around We're all singing in cho-
rus.
"BravO, Petit Tambour - Cittle drum
mer) cried a tall man in a shabby gray cloak,
who was marching at the head of the line,
with long pole in his hand, and striking it
into the snow every now and then to see how
deep. t was. "Bravo, Pierre, my boy! With
such music as that one could march all the
way TO Moscow"
The boy smiled, and raised his hand to his
cap in salute, for this rough-looking man
was no other than the General himself,
Fighting Macdonald" one of the bravest
soldiers in France, of whom his men used to
say that one sight of his face in battle was
worth a whole regiment.
Long live our General" shouted ahoarse
voice, and the cheer, flying from mouth to
mouth, rolled along the silent mountains like
a peal of distant thunder.
But its echo had hardly dieG away when
the silence was again broken by another
sound of a very different kinda strange un-
canny sort of a whispering far away up the
great white mountain side Moment by mo-
ment it grew louder and harsher, till at
length it swelled into a deep, hoarse roar.
"On your faces, lads y roared the General;
cts an avalanche -
But, before his men had time to obey, the
Ytrif, yros r1nou tbprn Down tI1uudprpd
great mass of snow. sweeping the narrow
ledge-path with waterfall, and crashing
down alorg with it came heaps of stones and
loose earth, and uprooted bushes, and great
blocks of cold blue ice. For moment all
was dark as night; and when the rush had
passed, many of the brave fellows who had
been standing on the path were nowhere to
be seen. They had been carried down over
the precipice, and either killed or buried
alive in the snow.
But the first thought of their comrades was
not for them. When it was seen what had
happened one cry arose from every mouth.
"Where's our Pierre? Where's our little
drummer 20
Where, indeed? Look which way they
would, nothing was to be seen of their poor
little favorite, and, when they shouted his
name, there was no answer. Then there
broke forth a terrible cry Of grief, and many
a hard old soldier who had looked without
fiinching at line of leveled muskets, felt the
tears start into his eyes at the thought thai
that bright face would never be seen among
them again.
But all at once, far below them, out of the
shadow of the black unknown gulf that lay
between those tremendous rocks, arose the
faint roll of drum, beating the charge.
The soldiers started and bent eagerly for
ward to listen then up went shout that
shook the air.
Giles alive, comrades our Pierre's alive,
after all -
And beating his drum still, like brave
lad He wanted to have the old music to
( the last -
"But we must save him, lads, or he u freeze
/ to death down there. lie must be saved -
''He shall be - broke in deep voice from
behind, aud the General himself was seen