The news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1877-1900, 1883-02-20
"A Funeral In u MIning-Camp.


population of the camp was ready to say
"Poor fellow" in the general conscious
ness that the compassionate epithet
might eventually apply nearer home.
Of suoh trail clay were they themselves
fashioned.
A delay, inexpficable to Conrath's
friends, III the reply to their telegram
to his father, reused good deal of feel
ing among them. It was hastily as
sumed that Conrath's family had ''gone
back" on him. The facts of the case
were, that when the telegram, reached
New York, his father was on slsipboard
between that city and RaYanelI where
his wife had been ordered by her physi-
cian to spend the winter. The silence
was certainly far from paternal. The
camp was sensitive on the point OF its
relations with the east, especially in tho
event of death. Whatever their inuiffer-
ence or faithlessncss to their eastern ties
during life, the men Of Conrath's rank
on the frontier confdentially expected
those ties to contract in the extreme
moment, and restore them to thor enrly
associations.
Without waiting for the silence Of
Conrath's father to be explained, the
Shoshone partisans rose i'll Srathful
championship of their insulted eomrado
and said:
eff they can't bury him decently,
damn him, we'll bury HIM oulselvesi"
The case of the living sister could wait
on that of the dead brother.
1t WAS on this honorable erraQd Cash
wiler had come, when he encountered
Hilgard in the first sIrong agon, of his
bereavement
taashwiler did not SEQ Miss Conrath,
but he had IL long and exciting Argument
with Molly, who protested that Ter mis-
tress should not be disturbed M this or
other business. She had met Oecil in
the passage, after her parting f,m Hill
gard, and, with sure instinct, ine girl
had known that the hour Of he young
mistresss extremity was come. She in
dignantly repudiated. in her mstress's y
name, the offered bonors to the load.
"Wouldn't ye leave her evn tho
bodyp Sure, never sAe'U sit behind that
hearse-trm]in' through the sLrees along
with tho lot of Sou, an your mlsic m
your mil'tryl She's not prout OF his
dyin', that she'd want the whob Camp
to be throopin' aftef i'm. The hast We
cun 90 is to leaye him to her nov!"
But Molly could not prevail alono
against the resolute sympathy # Con.
rath's constituency. All she culd do
was to soften tho proposition bya little
mcrcitul deception, and presentit rs IL
decent, kindly offer TO give the chef OF
the Shoshone appropljaate bulY4l&t tho
nanas OF hi MS sfifltia sfinent 10 whion
he had belonged Cecil gave her help
less consent. Nth tho condition that all
the expens,s should 10 referred 10 her
father. ~,he was too far prostrated III
bodg hs we'll rs i'll spirit, to know moro
o.s"Ghe last scene III the tragedy of her
life, than such dreary echoes as pene.
trated the darkened seclusion of her
chamber.
Conrath's body was borne out of the
house and conveyed to tho camp, whore
1t lay in state i'll tho unfinished hall of
the new Masonic Temple, to he gazed
upon by tho multitude. it was subse-
quently enshrined in q plumcd hearse.
drawn by eight, horses, fed Oh hay at
one hundred dollars q tou. 1t was pre-
coded by the regiment Of militia, keep
ing step through the miry snow OF the
street, with guns reversed, TO the mea-
sures OF the Dead March. The band
which furnished the music was attached
to one OF the principal variety theatres,
and, Ill the intervals of ITS regular per-
formance, was often required to assist at
funerals, whore the Camp publicly hon.
ored some favored actor in its social
dramas, on his exit from the stage. The
Masonic society marched sbehind tho
heurse i'll tull regalia, followed by tho
ire companies and the populaco. The
latter hau turned out pronliscuously, on
foot, or mounted Oh "livery horses" of
uncertain gait and temper, and might
De relied on to appear at any point in
the procession, according to it's caprice,
joining tho ranks of the Musons, the
militia, or tho frem on. and keeping up
IL current flow OF conversation on TOPICS
more or less relevant to the occasion.
The oortege moved ON slowly along the
principal streets OF tho town and out
through Its struggling suburbs to the
cemetery.
Ihe cemotory was grim, untended
spot, IN acre OF tho primitive fir-forest.
sloplng westward toward tho valley, and
exposed to the winas A tBat 9aaas aas!ewl wliiSS iiSrGss fss
nlu the axe had passed over the fol est.
and the nakedness Of the land was left
as the inheritance Of that peaceful oom.
munity which had pitched its low tents
on the bleak slope. A few stumps and
stark. blackened pine trunks, q few
young. slight trees, tho solo mournors
OF the forest, supplemented tho scant
memorials ralsou to the human dead.
Unpnlnted boards marked alike the
graves OF those who awaited ut the
hands Of distant friends removal to a
more permanent resting-place, tho
graves of tho poor and the unknown.
and tho graves Of those whoso place Of
rest was Of less Importance to the gen.
erM public than it's fnaIlty. Tie camp
graveyard, like the camp itself, was
perlpatetic. The olty was at thut time
resorving the money it might have spent
Oh It's ndornplunt, liz contemplation OF
Its removal to another. spot.
The heavy, soft snow had sunk and
melted under the high glare OF the sun.
Mud lay III patches, like linen spread to
bleach; Offering Il grotcsque, irreverent
suggestion that the dwellers in those
'unken mounds might have risen in the
nlgnt nnd washed thcir earth-stumed
ceroments IN readiness for tho pending
older to ''move CAMP" Tho funeral |
procession, invading this desolato in
,losure. took nothing from it's haggard |
On0Ll1eSS r. VIA i,npoaaihIa tr ou.o