San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1886-05-11
v

| The chestnut Steed carries him with lengthy
stride past the meadows where the fOckS are
grazing peaceably, past the orchard where
the trees are bending beneath the weight of
rOsy-tipped blossoms, past the fields where is
| SprOutng the green corn, which he will new
er more see ripen; and only then, when he is
| out of sight of the oak forest and the white
house, does he Slacken his speed and allow
himself to think.
There is no one to see him, so he can in
dulge his sorrow and allow his tears to flow
unchecked 1t is not a joyful thing to leave
lovely wife and a beloved child; to lose
alike the joys of family and the glory of
an Attaman; to 90 forth into a strange world,
not knowing whittier or how. And it is Of
| his own free will that he is going to his
death; ii is his own hand which is guiding
his horse by the most direct road to Biala-
Cerkiew, whence he knows that he will new
er more return. There is no one to force him
to go there, nothing to prevent him from
making an evasion to POdOlia nothing
save his simple word. His gallant horse,
which had carried him 50 often and so faith
fully, could soon take him out of reach of all
pursuit; but this thought does not even enter
his mind. The word of an Attaman is sacred,
and KuniCki will be an Attaman to the last.
The new day, which is to be the last in his
life, has risen in full glory as he nears his
destination. On the public place in the town
the chiefs are assembled, attired in their
robes of state, to do honor to the occasion.
In the center of the group stands large
wooden block, and near it Tartar prisoner
of gigantic frame and ferOciOus appearance
is holding mighty sabre.
The chestnut horse which bears the Alta
man is deserted in the distance flying over
the steppe. and the sound of timbalS gives
notice of his approach. Every one uncOyers
TO receive him. and the mounted KOSaks
drawn up at the gates of the town salute him
with their customary cry of Long live our
Attaman"
Kuncki, diSmOmting, strokes his horse in
sign of farewell. His cOuntenance is grave
and calm as he says:
II trust that am punctual and that have
not kept you waiting, my lOrds?'
Father Attaman! Thou art punCtual and
faithful as thou ever vert in the field, and
moreover il is but our duty to wait on thee"
Noble chieftains! | have come hither in
order that your sentence may be fulfilled. |
place my son under your protection; let him
become faithful KOsak and fight for the
liberty of his country, and may he be more
fortunate than his father has been"
I'VE shall bring him up to be worthy of
such father" answers the most ancient of
the chiefs.
Il salute my companions in misfortune
and wish you all health and prosperity"
continues kunicki, land may the KOsak peo-
pie ever be great and glorious
Father Attaman! Thou hast acted nObly
and as belts an Attaman NAV our KOSaks
follow thine example, and ever die as brave
ly. Achmet, prepare to do thy work"
The Attaman kneels down, uncOvers him
self, placing his csapka with the cranes
feather by his side, and after a short prayer
lays his head upon the block.
The gigantic Tartar rolls up his sleeves to
the shoulders raises his sabre, and makes it
whistle twice through the air; the third time
1t descends with unerring aim the Attaman'S
head has bounded from the block, and rolled
some PAGES off on the ground.
With much pomp and ceremony the body
was raised up and placed on bier of cedar
wood, draped with costly hangIngs, and was
carried to the grave. followed by a stately
procession of chiefs and KOSaks, the church
of the Father Attaman.
For many weeks and months they mourn
ed for Kunicki, the brayest wiSest and most
beloved Attaman ever known, and all alike
bewaied the cruel fate which had cut short
this noble life
And llandzia, in the white house near the
oak forest, mOurned for him till the end Of
her -IDUDuIUu'S jf,tDu- me-