The Democratic press. [volume] (Ravenna, O. [Ohio]) 1868-1901, 1883-10-25
SNAKES IN THE GRASS.

If you stand here and peer through
the darkness you can see 1t all. There
is the wagon of a lone emigrant family,
its cover weather-worn and rent to
prove that the journey has been long
and weary. Ten feet away are the
embers of the fire on which the evening
meal was cooked. Betweenthe wagon and
the fire is the rude bed of robes and blank
cts on which mother and children are
sleeping. On the other side of the ve-
hicle stand the horses, munching at the
short, sweet grass or listening to the
far-off voice of the wolf.
That is the background. In the
foreground u sentinel sits with his back
to the, solitary cotton wood. At his
rfrht-hand runs little brook-at his left
is the boundless prairie DER which night
has spread her mantle. Forty feet away
are wife and children trusting to his
vigilance: Overhead gray white clouds
are driving across the starlight heavens
and the moan of the wind has an uneasy
nervous sound. Away out on the prairie
the wolf gallops from knoll to knoll and
snuflo the air, and the coyote gnaws the
bleached bones of the buffalo and utters
his short, sharp cries of hunger.
Is there danger? All day long as the
tired horses pulled the wagon ut slow
pace. the emigrant has carefully scanned
the circle about him, but without cause
for uneasiness. He knows he is in the
Indian country and for the last twenty
four hours his nerves have been braced
to hear their dreaded war-whOop and to
catch sight OF IL band riding down upon
| him.
10 irrINf lin
ear has been keen as fox's and his eye
| has notrestod fora moment. The stakes
are human Iives-his life with the rest.
| The odds are ten TO one against him.
"Ah! if we were back ut the old house
| in Ohioi You remember the old farm
| house hidden away among the cherry
| and pear trees? There is the highway
lined with dusty May weeds. Half q
mile below is the quaint little school
house where the children learned theii
A, b, C. Half a mile above is the bridge
across the
The sentinel rouses up and rubs his
eyes, Ii was the creek talking to him
As he listened 10 its monotonouS babbit
it suddenly began to converse In plan
tongue For Il moment he is thrilled
and alarmed. He looks keenly about
| and he listens with Datcu DfeaGn. Inert
/ are the same sounds-the wall of the
covote-the munching of the horses
the babbling of the brook-now ant
then a half groan from one of the child
ren sleeping an uneasy sleep. Ant
now the brook talks again:
'"Thero was the big brown barn full o
sweet smelling hay-the pasture 10
with its cows-the pond i'll which the
barele@ged children used to wade-th
orchard with its burden of fruit. Don
you remember how you used to sit ol
the stoop ut evening-time and smok
your pipe and watch the children ut pla
on the grass? How peaceful every
thing vast There was drowsy feelin
! in the summer air-the lazy hum of in
sects-the low songs of the good wife a
she rocked the baby to osleep-why, yo
, sometimes fell asleep and let your pip
drop from"
The brook babbled and the man slept
, Ave! the sentinel who had five lives i
his keeping slept and dreamed, and i
his dreams wandered back to the oil
home and heard the old familia
sounds.
SSH 1t was rustic in the grass
Turn to the left little more. Their
it is! Thirty feet from the sleepin