Fort Worth weekly gazette. [volume] (Fort Worth, Tex.) 1882-1891, 1888-01-13

Whether their ardor was damped or
not, Lonsdale could not tell; but after
| time their voices ceased In his rear end,
on listening intently, he could hear moth
Ing OF their footsteps; and supposing
they had abandoned the pursuit and quite
unconscious that they had made detour
and were Fastening to cut him off in
front, he proceeded more leisurely. After
obtaining with intense satisfaction s
glimpse Of the broad and blue Irawaddy
some miles distant, he continued to fol,
low the path resOlutely downward from
| the rocks and precipices into fist and
level district, covered with sand, Jungle
and the inevitable gigantic wild grass.
| He had seen the Irawaddy but without
vestige OF smoke from any passing
steamer.
All trace Of the path IVES lost nov, but
guided by the sun, now verging westward
beyond the forests on the other side Of
| the great river. he continued to pash on
| in the direction where he knew the latter
lay.
Noon was long since past now, and
Lonsdale believed that he was now safe
from immediate pursuit. But the Dacoits
had never quite lost sight of him; and
thus, just es the red flush of the farewell
sun was deepening and crimsonlng the
face OF the bluffs from which he had de-
scended, and when he found himself
among grass that was fully ten feet high,
shot was fired at him from the front
and came perilousiy near.
There was an impossibllity of seeing
the man who had delivered it. Lonsdale
drew out mis- revolver, and though he but
detected the thin blue smoke of the mus
ket curling up smid the greenery, he fired
IN that direction at venture, when
shrill yell of sgony and violent moving
OF the tall reedy grass to and fro, toId
him that the shot had not been thrown
away.
Another report rang out on the air, but
further Off and from different quarter,
nd second bullet, though almost fl rec
at random, passed SO near Lonsdale's
right cheek that it grazsd, yet did 10,
break, the SKIN, and he felt as il the latter
had been scorched or scared By q hot
iron.
Finding all quiet, after this, and that he
was no more molested, he lay very still
for hours, yet listening intently for any
passing or approaching sound, and heard
nothing save the hum of insect-life among
the long grass where he was compelled TO
psss the night.
During the hours of the latter hesvy
dew fell and well-nigh drenched him; anG
this, ultimately, proved perhaps the
worst enemy he encountered.
Cold and damp, and chilled to the
bone, he set wsrily forth again in The
morning, guided only By the direction OF
the rising sumo On leaving the long gras-
behind and getting into the open, sharply
and keenly he surveyed the ground or
every side, but no human being was
visible.
He felt Intense thirst, but no hunger;
he felt also tremor in his limbs, SEN
sation of clamorous fear about his hear,
and giddinesS-unpleasant symptoms
for which he could not then account;
while, like one in dream, he pushed on
resolutely, but vaguely, towards the
river, at a place, where tor about two
miles inland from it, the whole district.
though deserted, was studded
with pagodas Of every shape and size, and
With images of Guadama, composed of
that beautiful marble dug from The mines
of Amaropura-the "City of lmmortals"
-equalled only by the fuest in Italy, and
thus monopolized by the government for
ef1gies in temples.
All about him were crumbling shriues
and neglected lotus tanks; thus it was
almost impossible to move step without
tresding upon, or encountering something
deemed sacred there.
All this seemed like the fragment OF
fantastic dream to Lonsdale just then.
Then he passed near few cottsges
having roofs Of grass thatch, gable ends |
of teak plank, with the other walls of
mating or woven bamboos, their fire.
places wooden boxes lined with CLAW
placed in the verandahs, from the roof Of
one Of which he saw an empty chiId's
cradle suspended by cords.
The place had been abandoned by the
people, ana then looted and partly burned
by the Dacoits, whose lawless hands were
against all men like the Thugs and
Pln6srees of 1adia in past times; and
now before him he saw the broad waters
OF the magnificent Irawaddy, rolling in
all their majesty, some two miles IN
breadth from bank &c bank, but not e
vestige of our flotilla.
For ell he knew, it might have left the |
waters forever.
He glanced about him now with kind |
OF dumb despair, for oil his toll and peril |
had been faced in vain, and he felt weak. !
weary and crushed by ell the fierce excite !
ment and tension Of the nerves he had |
undergone for 30 long.for the LAST few |
days espe cially.
Near the deserted hamlet he saw three |
native boats, which doubtless belonged t. |
the inhabitants, moored near G rudt |
jetty of stones and bamboo poles.
Selecting the smallest of These he got !
on board, after pulling out the plug of |
the other two, thst by scuttling them
they Would not be available for pursuit; |
and sl1shing through the rope-painter |
by one cut of the dab, he showed off.
The craft was one OF these graceful :
Burmese boats, that cGn only sail With |
the wind, owing to being without any
keel, and they usually carry one square
sail, and when the wind fails they are |
poled along the bank. He contrived to |
set the sail, which was of tough |
mating, took the tiller, and speedily was
out in the mid-stream, and went gently |
southwark with the current and the |
morning breeze, with only one idee-shar |
the nearer he was to Rspgoon the better, |
but st that point he was fully 800 miles |
above Rangoon.
Becoming too weary to steer, he dashed |
the rudder IN such manner as to keep |
the sail full; and hours after that he was |
reused from species of waking doze by /
the welcome sounds Of steam blowing Of, |
and then of more than one voice halliDg |
him in English.
Starting up, he found himself close by
q gun boat.
She proved to be the kathleen, and he |
was speedily taken on board; but though |
restoratlves were given, he soon became |