The Kimball graphic. (Kimball, Brule County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1905, 1886-12-10

- A<0tONelJ Was Gue reply, GDAuk
/ you for your interest. Ii we are ma.
tional enemies, you speak as man
md soldier. But let me say this"
ts&now cannot explain what induced
Ime to make thefollowingfo olish, brag-
Igart speech. but it bubbled up and was
spoken: Colonel, you or may die
before night; we do not know; but in
so lar as the result OF your courts
finding is concerned, will be alive
when you and your twelve officers are
dead and forgotten"
He left me in disgust, and don't
blame him.
But such was my feeling. did not
| feel it IN my bones" as theslanggoes
that death was SO near.
The colonel and the entire twelve
lcomposing the court died before was
exchanged-"shot to DEATH in one
charge at Cold Harbor / live to
| write the occurrence twenty-five years
alter the conversation.
1t may or may not be true that
when the grim monster singles out his
victim he sends him in some way a
spiritual premonition that he is going
to let fly from Deaths quiver the fatal
dart. Be that as it may-I had no
premOnlCtOn OF death.
| Not when they stood me up to hear
my sentence and to answer. nor after
I! ward in the cool contemplation my
isolated ard silent dungeon afforded;
not when the officer OF the day, on
4 that eventful execution morning, read
to me in my dungeon the days pro-
gramme and delineated my doom at
| the hands OF twelve detailed soldiers.
He found me whistling as paced my
marrow cell that morning and exclaim-
4 ed in surprise:
Good God, captain! what kind of
q man are you?"
ooh, | don't know; skin and bone,
flesh and sinews, blood and bile.
Why?"
"Whyl Don't you know you are to
lsbe shot today Outside here are the
twelve men detailed to send you into
eternity. You'll never see another
morning2 And here you are-whist.
ling!"
"Well, why not whistle as long as
| possible, and cry when you cannot
laugh?'
| how q man feels who stares death
l
comprehend my situation.
But was sentenced to death. That
Ifully comprehended when they march
ed me, handcuffed, between two guards
with arms at "charge" and bayonets
fixed back, to the prison; d,instead
Of my former twelve BY twelve cell,
barred and bolted me in an under
ground dark, dank dungeon, by 10,
with q tub occupying two feet OF that
sparse space, significantly suggestive
that was to stay right there until
the day and hour.
/ The sentence was fully realized dur
ing the sunless days and no darker
nights OF the weeks that followed.
Daylight! Heavens man! you do not
appreciate what ray OF glad, bright
sunlight is until shut IN from all that
makes day beautiful
4 Oh, yes; / comprehended, slightly.
that NINE was no trifling sentence as
/ crouched in that felt darkness, wait
( ing till diiated pupils enabled me to
see imperfectly what was the damp.
4 ness that. l touched.
4 Finally, however, / was permitted
to send out and buy a lamp, and to
keepit lighted. The walls had been
repeatedly whitewashed; but the hui
mid filth oozing through the bricks
, had pushed it off in discolored flakes.
The floor was stone; asolid or cement
ed mass that once negatived any Nor.
ganic idea OF digging out" Away up
yonder, ten or twelve feet away, was
the arched brick ceiling, whose sweaty
surface told chat it, too, was under
sod.
u But the dampness and the darkness
!, and the dirt were but grains of dust
compared to the unutterable lonli-
ness that grew upon me in that sep
ulchre. Not a human soul-not even
a brute, except the scampering rats
to break the stiffness of that murky
tomb! Outyonder, somewhere, knew
was a grim sentry, for l heard the
measured tread OF the relief as they
left him on his lonely post. But 1
never saw or heard him.
Twice q day griinly silent, came the
cooks detail with my barrack soup
or coffee. But he was mute, under
strict orders not to speak or signal to
!, the prisoner, as his baker-like shovel
reached in my morsel OF food.
Perdition! how / strove to make
MIN speak ii he only would curse me,
abuse me, anything; even his profan-
ity would have sounded as melody in
my solitude.
never knew what music there was
in the human voice till in that dun
geon, where it never sounded, and
where | soon grew startled at my
| own.
u The post chaplain's was the only
human voice heard for weeSs-and
his only once, for my levity shocked
him SO that he gave me up as an ire
J deemable reprobate. He offered a
prayer for me, however, courteously
kneeling with him on the stone floor.
But he never came again.
He told me-what my occasionally
! allowed letters from my friends had
!, too plainly informed me-that there
was no hope of escape from the fate
that seemed to them and the odtside
world to be staring me in the face.
Every possible effort has been made,
every available influence pressed into
) service with the President, and he had
declined interfering with the Judgment
of the court martial. The worthy
| chaplain said:
Captain, prepare for death, for
7 your life ends III few days"
Here was food for reflection, surely
! In the prime and vigor of early man.
/ hood my Veins thrilling with the bound.
ing energy OF young blood. life
J just begun, with its plans, schemes
!, and purposes all to work out; ayouns
t wife and two children, with al! the
: hopes OF Joy existence with them gave
. ambitious walks all wide before me
: awaiting to be trod; what burning
: pages yet unread in the book Of life!
< In battle the half-read paragraph o.