Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1881-12-13

broken masses enormous war tamtams
which four strong men could hardly drag
along in the wild race thin desert horses,
which seemed full of fire and fury, har-
messed with singular tinsel trappings, GOV.
cred with thin plates of brass, with long
tails and long names dyed blood red-a
fantastic host, demoniac procession, an
African nightmare sweeping by more rap
idly than the wind.
Boubakar- Segon was passing by.
He was rushing upon the French column
further off passing without even noticing
the Spahls, leaving them to be extermi-
mated by the men he had sent on to lie in
ambush.
There was no time to reload they
fought with knives, sabres, fists and teeth !;
everywhere wounds were yawning, entrails
bleeding.
Two black men attacked Jean with
frenzy; he was stronger than they; he
rolled them upon the ground, and trampled
madly upon them, but they always came
at him again.
At last his fingers could no longer obtain
a hold upon the oily blackness OF their
naked skin his hands slipped In blood.
and the drain OF his wounds enfeebled
him.
His eyes confusedly perceived these last
images dead comrades all lying at his
| feet, and the vast mass of the negro army
still running to battle and now almost ont
of sight; and handsome Muller near by,
with the death rattle in his throat and
vomiting blood and far of, very far of,
tall Nyaor hewing himself a bloody way
to SAFETY in the direction of Ii Ilde, rap ng
path through mass of black men with
mighty saber-strokes.
And then, three together threw Jean
down upon his side; two held his arms,
the third pressed great iron knife against
| his chest.
There was one frightful moment of an
guish, while Jean felt the pressure of that
knife against his body. And no human
succor for him-none all dead-nobody +!
The red cloth of his jacket, the coarse
material of his soldiers shirt, and his flesh
formed a sort of mattress-surface and re-
sisted-the knife was badly sharpened.
The negro pushed with all his might ;
Jean uttered great hoarse cry, and his
chest was forced in.
The blade, with horrible little crack
ling sound, plunged deep into his breast ;
they turned it in the wound, pulled it out
with both hands, and pushed away the
body with kicks.
Jean, dragging himself under the thin
shadow of the tamarinds, tried to find a
spo. where his head could be in the shade,
and lie down there to die.
He had great thirst, a burning thirst /;
and he commenced to feel little convulsiye
movements in his throat.
| He had often seen his African comrades
die ard he recognized that CHASTITY sign of
the end which people call the hiccough of
death.
The blood poured from his side and the
arid sand drank up that blood like dew.
Nevertheless, ne did not suffer so much.
But for that thirst which was burning him
up, he had almost ceased to suffer.
Strange visions came to the poor Spahi
the mountain chain of the Cevennes, the
familiar spots of other days, his mountain
cottage.
Above all he saw vast stretches of
fresh NEUTRALITY-SUSPICIOUS. and MOSES, cool
ness and mountain springs-and his dear
old mother, coming to lead him gently by
the hand, as in the days OF his youth.
o, for kiss from his mother-his mother
caressing his forehead with her poor old
trembling hands, and cooling his burning
head with fresh water.
What Would his mother never, never
kiss him again Would he never again
hear the sound of her voice Never
NEVER This was the end of all To
die alone in the sun in the desert And
he half rose up in his desperate desire NOT
to die.
"Tiean come join the circle
Before him like whirling gust a
furious storm-wind, a circle of dancing
phantoms passed.
Where the whirlwind touched the burn.
ing gravel, sparks gushed up.
And the diaphanous dancers, mounting
in rapid spirals, like smoke swept by .
wind, were lost on high, in the flaming
blue of the ether.
And Jean felt as if he were following
them-he had sensation as if being lifted
by terrible wings; and he thought it wa
the supreme moment OF death.
But it was only a cramping of all hi
MUSCLES great and horrible spasm 0
pain.
A jet Of pink blood gushed from hi
mouth voice kissing at his very tempt
said once more
"Tiean come join the circle -
And calmer, and suffering lesr, he sanl
back upon his bed of sand.
1t was almost midday. Jean suffered
less and less the desert, under the intens
tropical light, seemed to him like grea
brasier of white fire whereof the heat NJ
longer burned him. Nevertheless his ches
dilated as if to breathe more air; hi
mouth opened as if to ask for water.
And then his lower jaw fell altogether
his mouth opened widely for the last time
and Jean died, gently enough, in blindin!
blaze of sunlight.
When Fatou- gave came back, the womei
of the allied tribe informed her that thu
battle was already over.
She came to the camp, anxious, pant
ing, worn-out, always carrying her LITTLE
sleeping child upon her back, wrapped NJ
in piece of blue stuff.
The first she saw was the Mussulman
Nyaor. Fall, the black Spahi, who was tell
ing the beads Of his long Maghreo rosary
and watched her coming with grave face
In the language of the country she fal
tered out these three broken words:
Where-is-he?
And Nyaor, with stern gesture, ex
tended his arm toward the southern par
OF the country of Diambour-toward thu
field OF Dialakar.
He is there he answered he ha.
gone to Paradise.