The Indiana State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis) 1868-1895, 1880-06-02
The Drummer Boy.
Western Catholic.I


Some were riding, some walking, and most
of them had knapsacks on their shoulders,
like many alpine tourists nowadays. But
instead of walking-sti they carried mus
kets and bayonets, and dragged along with
them some fifty or sixty cannon.
In fact, these tourists were nothing less
than IA French army; and very hard time
of it they seemed to be having. Trying work,
certainly, even for the strongest man, to wade
for miles through l1nee-deep snow in this bit
ter frost and biting wind, along these narrow,
slippery mountain-paths, with pre-
cipes hundreds of feet deep all
FOUND. 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
seemed 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
shadowy giants, as merrily as if
he were going to picnic This was little
drummer-bOy of ten years old, whose fresh,
rosy face looked very bright and pretty
among the grim, SCARED yisages 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 rattle of his drum,
till it seemed as if the huge black rocks
around were all singing in chorus.
"BravO, Petit TambourP little drum
mer) cried a tall man in a shabby gray
cloak, who was marching at the head of the
line with a long pole in his hand,
and striking it into the snow every now and
then to see how deep it was. Bravo,
Pierre, my boyl With such music as that
one could march all the way to Moscow"
The soy smiled, and raised his hand to
his cap in salute for this rough looking man
was no other than the General himself,
E'Fi citing Macdonald" one of the bravest
soldier in France, of whom his men used to
say that one sight of his face in battle was
worth whole regiment.
''Long live our General'' shouted a hoarse
voice, and the cheer flying from mouth to
mouth, rolled along the silent mountains
like peal of distant thunder.
But its echo had hardly died away when
the silence was again broken by another
sound of a very different kinda strange,
uncanny sort of whispering far away up the
great white mountain-slde. Moment by mo-
ment it grew louder and harsher, till at
length it swelled into a deep, hoarse roar.
"On your faces, lads" roared the General;
it's an avalanche"
But, before his men had time to obey, the
ruin was upon them. Down Numbered the
great mass of snow, sweeping the narrow
ledge path with a waterfall, and crashing
down along with it came heaps of stones and
gravel and loose earth, and uproOted bushes,
and great blocks of cold blue ice. For a
moment all was dark as night; and, when
the rush had passed, many of the brave fell
lows 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 Pierrie? Where's our little
drummer"
Where, indeed2 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 terrible cry of grief, and many
a hard old soldier, who had looked without
finching at line ofleveled muskets, felt the
tears start into his eyes at the thought that
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 forward to
listen; then up went shout that shook the
air.
'He's alive, comradesI our Pierre's alive,
after all"
"And beating his drum still, like brave
ladl He wanted to have the old music to
the lastl'
"But We must save him, lads or he'll freeze
to death down there. He must be savedP'
"He shall bel' broke in deep voice from
behind, and the General himself was seen
stand on the brink of the precipice, throwing
off his cloak
'No, no, Generall" cried the grenadiers
with one voice; "you mustn't run such risk
as that. Let one of us go instead; your life
is worth more than all of ours put together"
any soldiers are my children" answered
Mcdonald quietly, "and no father grudges
his own life to save his SON."
The soldiers knew better than to make any
more objections. They obeyed in silence, and
the General was swinging in mid air, down,
down, down, till he vanished at last into the
darkness of the cold black depth below.
Then every man drew long breath, and
all eyes were strained to watch for the first
sign OF MS appearlnSi IOr Iney knew well
that he would never come back without the
boy, and that the chance was terribly against
him.
Meanwhile Macdonald, having landed safe
ly at the foot of the precipice, was looking
anxiously round in search of Pierre; but the
beating of the drum had ceased, and he had
nothing to guide him.
''PierreP' shouted he as loud as he could,
"where are you, my boy?Y
"Here, General" answered weak voice,
so faint that he could barely distinguish it.
And there, sure enough, was the little fell
lows curly head, half buried III a huge mound
of snow, which alone had saved him from
being dashed to pieces against the rocks as he
fell Macdonald made for him at once; AID
although he sank waist deep at every step,
reached the spot at last.
''All right now, my brave boy" said the
General, cheerily "Put your arms round
my neck, and hold tight; well have you out
of this in a minute"
The child tried to obey, but his stifened