Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1884-03-21

They had been surrounded and slaughtered
by overwhelming numbers, and the remnant
Rtll alive we're worn out with fatigue, heat,
hunger, discouragement, but most OF all by
thirst. The steep sides Of the hills were
strewn with bodies for the Indians, with
the recklessness Of triumph had charged al
most up to the rifles several times, and none
of that woary band could say but what the
next charge might be successful, though each
man vowed silently to himself that his own
weapon should prevent his becoming pris-
oner il he survived his comrades.
They were not quite hopeless, however,
for they knew that within twenty-four hours
march Of them we're r. achievements Of such
extent that at heirapproach the Indians would
vanish, and that il they could but maintain
their position, by sunset tomorrow they
would be safe. But in the meantime, though
hunger and fatigue could be endured, thirst
was maddening, and tho wounded, who lay
in the centre Of the little circle, would not
live until morning without water, the sur
geon said. The Colonel and two or three Of
the surviving officers who had been holding
a council (if such could be called anything
so unanimous as the opinion that they must
defend themselves while there was life lef),
looked hopelessly at each other when the
surgeon made his report, and then, with the
energy OF desperation, the Colonel sprang to
his feet. They were all lying fiat behind the
rampant to protect themselves against occa-
sional volleys fred by the Indians from an
opposite but less high hill
"Boys !" said the Colonel, and between ia
tigue and sorrow (for had he not seen his
best friends die that day p the strong kindly
voice was sorely shaken, ''you have done to-
day all that brave men could. You are tired
and hungry and grieved. Your Colonel will
not order you to do him an extra service, but
the surgeon has told us that our wounded
will die Of thirst before morning unless they
have water. Boys, there is little stream at
the foot of this hill. Will any Of you volun-
teer to bring some for your comrades p
There was n moments silence, for all the
men knew that the service he asked was a
desperate one The stream lay within the
Indian line-if anything so irregular could
be called lne-and they were physically so
tired that exertion, much less daring, seem
ed impossible. Only moment, and then q
tall young man jumped up in his place, a
couple Of yards from the Colonel's side, and
waved his cap over his head.
II will 90, Colonel !" cried Tom O'Hallo.
rams CHEEKY voice. Friends, who will help
to bring some water for those who have not
been so lucky as we hsve?"
Soldiers only need leader to do gallant
thing, and in two moments more eight men
the Colonel would not permit more TO go
crept out over the rampant, every second
man carrying a tin bucket, and the others
acting as guards. Very breathlessly their
comrades waited the result, and the Colonel
clinched his hands in helpless grief when he
heard the firing that told they had been at
tackled. But they came beck presently
seven of them, wonderful to say-with wa
ter enough to give everybody drink, and
to keep the wounded supplied for several
hours, and the only missing man was Tom
OHalloran!
"His mother said that he would make the
regiment proud of him, ," muttered the Colo
mel to the officer beside him, and neither was
ashamed of the tears on his cheek.
1t was not night on which it was possible
for a commanding officer, however tired, to
sleep; aud two hours Inter, when all had
been quiet for over a hour, and in the dusky
skies the stars were shining brilliantly, the
| Colonel moved noiselessly across the sleeping
men to a sentry who for some minutes had
been fxedly watching something on the 9th
er side of the defenses.
'What is it?" he asked, in a sharp whis
| per.
II think it is one of our men, Colonel but
l am not sure. answered the soldier pointing
TO dark form crawling on hands and knees,
| with many pauses, near the top of the hill
"Who goes there ?" cried the Colonel.
"Tom," came a faint reply; and in an in.
stsnt forgetting that il was his duty as com
mander not needlessly to expose his life, the
Colonel was over the defenses, and kneeling
beside bleeding ghastly, but living Tom
O'Halloran.
Good God! my boy, how did you gel
here? We thought you we're dead !"
80 did /, Colonel, twice, murmured Tom
with CLEAN that was half fun, half tender
ness in his dim eyes. "But l promised my
mother to go back to her, and l was not go
ing to break her heart just when had dont
something at last to make her a little proud
of her worthless fellow :"
You all know that they were rescued mex
day, "all that was left of them :" but thinl
you will be glad that Tom O'Halloran KEEP
his promises to his mother, and lived, thougl
he lost leg, and was otherwise so njureC
that he will never be a strong man again
But he is the hero of his regiment snt
whether a desire to live up to his new plac
in mems esteem helped him, or whether tn
good in his nature would have triumphe'
sooner OF later without the assistance of hi
heroism, is a question the Colonel is fond o
arguing, always ending by inviting his aud
itor, if a stranger, to go with him to the reg
mental hospital, where Tom has become
model book-keeper and steward, and the bes
of sons to his happy and proud old mother
Hdrper's Weekly