Western Kansas world. [volume] (WaKeeney, Kan.) 1885-current, 1885-12-19
DEADLY FEAR.

We sat on the deck after dinner.
There Yves ret ripple on the surface OF
the Mediterranean, shining under
the full moon. TIE great steamer glid-
ed along, her smoke appearing like
a black snake sgainst the starry sky,
while behind Us the water, grooved by
the ewift passing of the heavy vesse!and
.ashed to toam by the screw, spaIkled
like boiling moonlight.
Six or eight OF US Eat there in silent ad-
mi1ation locking towards the distant
African coast, TO which We were bound.
An officer, who was smoking, suddenly
eaid. in continuation of the conversation
before We left the table, "Yee, that day
Iwas afraid; my ship had been Knocked
about On those rocks for more than Six
hours. Luckily. towards night We were
sighted and picked up by an English
coaler." Then a tall, grave, sunburnt
man opened his lips for the first time
and ssid: "You cay, captain, that you
were afraid. Permit me to doubt your
statement. An energetic man like your
self is not afraid in imminent danger.
You may be excited, agitated OF anxious,
but that is not fear"
The captain rejoined, laughing: Il as
sure you that l was afraid that day."
But The bronzed man went on deliber-
ately: Gear land the bravest nan may
be airai6) is q shock to the soul, a spasm
of the brain and heart, agonizing even to
remember, When one is brave this does
not happen in recognized danger, in
presence of certain death, but under
peculiar circumstances, in the mysteri-
GUS threatening of vague, uncertain
perils. have had this experience twice
in m, life; once in broad daylight, and
again. last winter, on December night,
and vet have lived life of adventure.
/ have often been in battle. l have
been left for dead by robbers. 1 have
been condemned to be hung, as rebel,
in South America, and l have been
thrown from the deck of vessel into
the sea on the coast Of China by the
Malaye. Each time have given myself
M for lost and l have looked the thing
in the face. Ihave not been afraid.
Once, however, in crossing the southern
desert of Onargla in Africa. You know
how the sand is on sea-beach. Imagine
the ocean itself in q hurricane suddenly
turned into sand-great, silent wastes OF
motionless waves of yellow dust. The
burning, tropical sun pours down merci-
lessly its vertical rays upon that change
less. stormy sea. You painfully climb
these yellow slopes and descend into
the alternate hollows only to ascend and
descend increasingly without any variety
or relief. The horses give out, sinking
knee-deep in the burning sand, and lose
their foothold on the slopes OF these
wide spreading waves.
ave were two friends travelling to.
gether, followed by eight spakis and
four camels with their drivers. For q
long time We had not spoken, over.
whelmed with heat and fatigue, scorched
and furnishing for water like the burning
desert itself.
"AlI at once one of the Arabs gave
cry, and we all stopped, startled. Some
where, though from what direction we
could not tell, sounGed the mysterious
drum beat of the desert, very distinct,
sometimes near, then far away, ceasing
altogether and then repeating its rever
berating roll. The men looked at each
other in dismay and one had just said:
That means DEATH when my friend,
who was like brother to me, fell for
ward on his horse. It was fatal sun.
stroke. For two long hours, while, in
that heated furnace, between the sand
waves, / was trying my utmost to save
his life, that mysterious drum beat filled
NV ears st intervals with its foreboding
sound, and in the midst of my grief,
gazing hopelessly at the beloved form at
INV feet. | shuddered with a nameless
fear as remembered that we were more
than six hundred miles from any French
settlement.
"That day knew what ear wa ed
/ have known it once since"
Here the captain interrupted the
speaker. Excuse me, sir, but what was
that sound"
The traveller answered: Il never was
sure; but / have often been told it is not
unusual in the desert, and cur officers
sometimes explain it by the echoes
among the sand slopes of grains of sand
blown against tufts of dried grass; for it
has been noticed that the sound is often
heard in the neighborhood OF certain
plants, dry and hard as parchment. But
/ never heard this explanation till .ong
after.
"The second occasion to which allud-
ed was last winter in forest in the north
east of France. 1t had grown dark much
earlier than usual on account of the
tempestuous weather. l had for guide
q peasant who walked beside me in the
wood road, arched over by tall trees that
fairly groaned in the wind. From time
to time above the tree tops l caught
sight of ragged clouds, scudding by as if
terror stricken. Now and then q pass
s-U do fh NH 1n fnrocf hnrr xyIth
q mighty grosn, and grew cold in spite
of my heavy coat and fast walking.
ITO be reaIy for the next days hunt,
we had decided to sup and pass the night
at game keepers lodge, not very far off.
Once in while my guide looked up
and muttered: what weather. and
then he began to talk about the people
10 whose house he was going. Two
years before the keeper had shot
poacber and ever since he had been
very melancholy. Two married SONS lived
with him. 1t grew darker and darker
and could distinguish nothing; the wind
moaned about US and filled the branches
overhead with dull, confused roar. At
last light cleaned in our path; nv
companion knocked at door and was
answered by shrill cries from women
within. Then Q mans voice asked in a
subdued tone: who is there% My
guide gave his name, the door was
opened and we were admitted.
Il shall never forget that scene. A
haggard, white haired old man with
wild eyes, loaded gun. in his hand,
stood in the middle of the kitchen while
two stalwart men, armed with axes,
guarded the entrance. Icould see in
distinctly, in the dark corners, two wo-
men on their knees, hiding their
faces.
ave explained our GRAND. The old