The Bolivar bulletin. [volume] (Bolivar, Hardeman County, Tenn.) 1865-1888, 1884-10-30

and clean against the cold, gray sky of
November. All day long norther had
been roaring down from them, twisting
the bare, thOrny branches of the mes
quite thickets, creaking the limbs of
the great, isolated. olive-colOred live
oaks; whistling through the dry grass
of the little prairie, striking like a solid
thing upon the shivering sides of the
shelterless, gaunt, long horned cattle,
and sweeping with a moan into the
streets Of the town. The little town
itself, all the warmth and color blown
out of it, looked deserted, for it was
Sunday, and every man was housed
with his own in the glow of his hearth
fire.
As night fell the wind grew keen
er, with suggestion of sieet upon it.
The old stage numbered in, arousing
the dogs as it passed, but presently
these dropped into stiffness agSin. The
lights behind the windows began to dis
appear, and one by one went out.
In the square stone Jail where the
guards watched and dOzed alternately
in the hall below, and in the cells above
the prisoners shiveTed on their scanty
pallets.
Down the long hill. close upon mid
night, into the midst of this stiffness
and gloom, rode two score and more Of
men. Grim, silent and pitiless, wi h
faces yelled and belts bristling with
weapons, they came like phantoms from
some unknown Dark.
The heavy thud of ponderous beam
upon the door of the Jail! The guards
within start to their feet. The prison
ers grasp each other in a hush of ex-
pectation into which creeps the hope of
| deliverancc. Again and again the dull
sound mingles with the ever-increasing
roar of the wind and the rain. Then
! there is the crash of splintering wood
and rush like that of doom, silent and
mighty, up the narrow stairway, with
| the white and stricken guards driven on
before. Deliverance? The solid key
/ groans in the lock, the smoky lamp
throws a CHASTITY glare into the cold
/ cell. And presently
energies into the freezing night air a
/ long, double file of men whose faces
are hidden, but whose clenched hands
| betray too well lack of mercy; and in
/ the midst thereof walk two barefOOted,
/ hals-naked. shivering creatures, with
/ the ropes already knotted about their
necks.
! And so silently hurries this ghostly
! procession up the wind-swept hill and
/ across the barren heath that not even
| the watch-dogs are aroused from their
/ slumbers. One old hunter, indeed, lifts
/ his head from his pillow with the in
/ stinct of danger upOh him; rises upon
/ his elbow and listens to the soughing of
the wind, while the glow of the dying
/ fire Teddens the barrel of the rifle swung
above his door, laughs contentedly as
he hears nothing else and drops back
into dreamland.
Behind the jail-doors are left wide
open, but the other prisoners, frozen
with horror, cover back into their cells
and pray.
And out yonder the work is finished;
finished remOrselessly and in silence.
One of the victims, indeed, begs for the
lie of his young brother. and the other
prays that he may be shot. But that is
all. But white and cold already, before
death has had time to freeze the blood
in their veins, they are left swinging to
and fro in the frantic gusts of wind,
while those yelled phantoms of the
night mount their horses and ride
swiftly back into the unknown dark
from whence they came.
The little town sleeps peacefully on
and midnight has not yet sounded.
1t is still the Lord His Day.
And that old murder has been
avenged"