The Salt Lake herald. [volume] (Salt Lake City [Utah]) 1870-1909, 1888-06-17
THE MYSTERIOUS PICKET.
He Counted Nine. WaSl One Short,
but Filled Up with a Dagger.

AS the sun went down and darkness
began to creep over the face of the
earth, the angry artillery died away and
the crackie of musketry was less spite
full. For while the fighting on the
extreme right hung on to settle the
question of who should occupy the old
earthworks, but at length dead silence
fell upon the whole field.
Silence2 mol 1t was silence COM
pared to the awful roar of the long
afternoon, but it was silence broken by
the sc cams and groans and prayers of
wounded menAby the movements of
wagons and artillery by the subdued
voices of IS 600 men as they camped for
the night without fire and anxiously
debatedthe chances for the morrow.
The sergeant marches off to the lett at
the head of half dozen men. He
drops a man at Post No. 1" and gives
him whispered instructions. 1t is the
same at posts 2 g. 4, etc., until the last
man has been stationed.
There must be Vigilant wakeful men
between friends and foe while the long
night wears away.
Post No. g. is under a great beech
riVen It's thick limbs. A quarter of a
century hence this tree will bear wit
ness to the TERRIBLE struggle of to day.
From this tree to the edge of that
thlcket, and the countersign is
Justice" whispered the sergeant, and
as be passes on the picket takes up his
beat, Hecounts as he passes them by
one, two, three, four, five, six, seven,
eight. What? Corpses They are lying
on the grass SO near the path he travels
that he can touch any of them with his
foot. There are Others to the right and
left, further away. 1t was here that
the enemy charged battery-here our
forces rallied to preserve it. Grape-shot
and canister, bullet and bayonet, found
victims here. Some lay as if asleep,
worn out with the tremendous conflict
Others raved and prayed and cursed
God and man before death released
| them from their sufferings.
The picket counts them as he walks,
and sigh escapes his lips. Tomorrow
night some sentinel may mum Ger his
mutilated corpse with others on the
same meadow. Tomorrow night the
autumn winds may vainly seek to rouse
him from his death sleep.
From tree to thicket and turn. From
tAlChSt W eICC duO IuID~ hO AAuot
watch and listen and bs on his guard,
bat by and by he finds time to count
again. One-two-three-fou
six-seven-eight -ninel What He
counted only eight before. Was he
mistaken, or Can the dead of the battle
field creep and crawl? Six-seTeE-
eight--hl1e. Yes. there are nine. In
the darkness he had made q mistake.
! Nineg Well, what matters one more
or less corpse upon battle6eldP
To the trees and turn. To the thicket
and turn. AS be heads for the tree
tagain the ninth corps as umes a sitting
position and looks after him. A
moment later it struggles up and a
figure goes creeping after the picket.
The grass in the meadow is thick and
matted, His footballs give out no
sound. Softly-softly-si as the
shadow of death-creeping- creeping,
and now he is close upon the lone
picket. There is CLEAN of steel in the
darkness-a swift and powerful blow,
and he who was placed to watch will
watch no more.
Through the gaps the spies will pour
in and skulk about the camps; a regi-
ment will be silently advanced to the
key position the gouls will scent
plumber and creep up to rob the dead
The picket had counted: "Seven
eight-nine!"
There is no missing corpse. The
number has been made good detroit
Free Press.