The Northern Pacific farmer. [volume] (Wadena, Minn.) 1878-1885, 1884-11-06

1Oo8 VI SOlOOu Uau U0eu 80 8T0Ab U11Hb tu0
heart Auttered wildly and feeblys in it's
efforts to contract upon its diminished
contents, and Fournier, anxious, and
pale himself almost as his victim, trem-
bled when his finger felt in vain for the
bleeding artery and caught only q faint
tremulous thrill. so feeble that he
scarcely knew whether the heart was
beating at all or not. In terror he
threw open the ends of the little .tant
and famed him, apa moistened his lips,
and gave him brandy, and fastened to
begin the experiment. for which he had
waited so long and for which both sub
jects were at last ready.
He, told his savage that the Yankee
was dying, but that be had communed
with his god, who would let him live if
blood was given in return. Then he
reminded him of the time when he lost
blood, and that it had done him no
harm. The African, trained for this
duty with so much care, did not fail
him, but barred his arm and gave the
blood. The god was brought forth and
caught it, and the sacrifice began: AS
the silver bowl foated in basin of wa
ter SO warm that the thermometer in it's
side marked SO degrees of Fahrenheit,
Fourier stirred the blood with the
bundle of wires to collect the fbrine
and prevent the formation of clots; he
then drew it into the syringe through
the strainer, and forced it through the
perforated needle, which he had previ-
ously thrust into large vein in Shir-
ley's arm, carefully avoiding the intro
| duction of the slightest bubble of air.
Time after time he filled his syringe
and emptied it into the veins of
the wounded. man, until at length he
saw signs of reaction. The color
came, the breathing became more
natural, the pulse became slower,
fuller, regular. By and by he moved,
sighed, opened his eyes and spoke.
He asked question: what has
happened?"
While he had been lying there much
had happened. Life and death had
battled over him, and life had tri-
umphed. When he recovered from the
effects of his fall and found himself
bleeding he tried to rise and stanch the
flow, but, already exhausted, he fell
back almost fainting from the effort.
He called repeatedly for help, but his
only reply was the hideous face of his
guard, silently leering at him for mo-
ment, then disappearing without word.
At last it occurred to him that he had
been left there to die, and he reused his
enegies to his aid. But Shirley accom-
plished nothing; he could not even raise
his hand to the bleeding shoulder; with
every effort the blood flowed more copi-
ously. His mind was rapidly becoming
benumbed like his body, which shivered
as though it was mid winter. Darkness
came over his eyes, and he fell into a
dreamy state that soon passed into
seeming Inconsistencies again. Never
theless, while the doctor came and
| went and did his work, and the savage
scowled at him, yet gave his life's blood
to save him, though he lay like a dead
nor even felt the needle in the flesh, his
mind was not idle. Strange doubts and
fears, wild longings and regrets, sweet
thoughts of long-forgotten happiness,
and fair visions of the future, busted
his brain. Memory unrolled her scroll
and breathed upon the letters of his
story that lapse of time and press of
circums tances had made dim, till they
grew clear, and with himself he lived
his life again, and nothing was lost out
of it or forg OFTEN. SSs!rhere was his moth
er's face again, with the old, old loving
smile upon her lips, and the tender
mother-love in the depths of her beauti-
full eyes. There before him, bright and
loor nc oxo, xuo,o Thu coopoo of bic Iox,-
hool-the school forms defaced with
many rude cutting of names and dates,
the master knitting his shaggy brows
and tapping meaningly with his ruler
upon the awful desk while some white
haired urchin aoundered through an ILL.,
learned task and his classmates Uttered
at his blunders.
Then the college days few by with
their romance and delight Commence
ment with it's "pomp and circumstance"
its tedious ceremony and scholarly dis
rose to. make his commencement speech.
He, the aristocrat of his class, had chos-
en- to speak Against Caste" and
though he spoke with: the enthusiasm
of an untreid man, it was with devoted
honesty of purp ose, of which his earn
estness was witness, and of which his
future was to give ample proof
Through the bewilderment of applause
that greeted him as he finished he saw
only the glad, smiling face of Alice
Wentworth nodding approval; of the
rest, hundreds though they were he
saw nothing. Her congratulation was
enough . -
F" Then came tender SCENES and Alice
Wentworth was to be his wife. Another
change, and he is in the midst of ruder
scenes. y There is war, civil war, and he
is soldier; once more he seems to be
in Virginia, and there are marches and
CONFERENCE.-The camps and barracks,
battles and retreats, and all the great
and little miseries of long campaigns.
Tie silver leaflets of a major are ex-
changed for the golden eagles Of a col
onel, and all the time, amid sterner du-
ties, he finds time to write to Alice
Wentworth, and never mail comes in
to camp but he is sure of letters dated
''Home" and full of words that make
him hopeful and brave.
Negro troops are raised, and, true to
his principles and to himself, he re-
signs his commission to take lower
rank in colored regiment. Now the
scenes grow dim; confused sounds far
off disturb him: low music, familiar yet
strange, now distant, now at his very
ear, attracts him; wierd, shadowy
L. IL.