Millheim Journal. [volume] (Millheim, Pa.) 1876-1984, 1886-01-21
A Forgotten Veteran.
Left Behind In the Desert by
All His Comrades.

He had been thrown out as a vidette,
and for hours he had peeped into .he
darkness around him to watch for the
slightest sign OF danger-llstened like
one who realized that the willy Arab Of
the desert steals upon bis prey with all
the silent cunning of the American In
dian. AS the stars of the night began
to pale before the advance of dawn he
felt like one reprieYed. While he
watched, the enemy had, for once,
seemed to sleep. Daylight would bring
a continuation of the march. and every
hour would witness skirmish, but ev-
en- battle does not unnerye a man like
standing yidette on lone and danger
Gus post.
What Has he became blind ? Day
light now covers the desert, and the
vidette is looking towarks the camp Of
the night. There is no camp. AT
midnight he left 800 Of his comrades.
This morning there is no sign Of life.
He looks to the right, but there is no
vidette. He looks to the left-no liv-
ing thing meets his eyes.
He stands and peers and stares and
blinks. Is he awakep If so, is he
blind? Has the night played some
strange trick on him In this land of
strange things and strange fancies?
He moves toward the spot where the
night halt was made, but he advances
slowly and cautiously, and he hesitates
now and then as IL to reason with him.
self. Ah! He is neither blind or daft.
Here is cap-there belt here a
rope-there sack. toAproye that the
camp had been here. Here are tracks
of men and camels, there broad trail
leading away to the south.
! In the stiffness of night messenger
, had come to the little band. ordering an
instant change of march. Quietly and
without alarm the men had turned out,
the beasts made ready, and the yidettes
called in. All but onel In the hurry
and the darkness he had been overlook
ed.
Leaning on his carbine and looking
over the trail left to show the change of
march, the soldier reasoned it all out.
His command had been gone for hours.
He was alone and on foot. OYertake
theml He smiled grimly at the
thought. The sun and sand and thirst
of Egypt were as deadly enemies as the
spears and bullets of the Arabs. He
had neither food nor water. A hund-
red miles of burning sands and hot
winds lay between him and blade of
grass-a single drop of water.
The soldier turned TO survey she des-
ert plain. To the east, nothing but
sand; TO the north, nothing but sand;
to the west, nothing but sand; to the
south-ahl He Strengthened up, shad-
ed his eyes with his hand, and for a
long minute continued his gaze, then
he let his arm fall A score of Arabs
were riding down npon him.
Without undue haste-with the dig
nifty befitting an old vereran-the SOL
dier took from his breast and pinned to
his coat medal. Upon its bright side
were the words: "The Boer War;
Ue pinned on another which said:
"For Services in Zululand." There
was third-a fourth-a fifth. In his
twenty years of soldier life the old man
had a thousand times been a target for
bullets. This was his last campaign
Death was riding down upon him, and
he would die like o. soIdier-as q Brit
ish soldier.
when the savage horsemen were q
half mile away they halted. The old
soldier was ready and waiting. There
was no thought of taking him a prisc
ner-no thought of surrender. There
was a moment of consultation, and
then the bunch of horsemen deploye d
in line and advanced at a gallop.a
Steady, nowi Crack! Crack Crac X
Two horsemen tumb.ed from their sad
dles-a third reeled about in his seat
like man mortally hit. Before anoth-
ct shot could be fred the murderou
lances drank blood and the old soldier
lay dead.
On the hot sands, his face upturned
to his foes, and his medals shining as
never before in a morning sun, lay the
old man dead. And then not by the
hands Of friends-not by the hands of
comrades-a sixth medal was placed
upon his brawny breast. It was not of
gold or silver, but something of more
priceless value. 1t was the words of
an Arab chieftain:
Comrades, a brave man lies herel"
Detroit Free Press.