Pittsburg dispatch. [volume] (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, 1889-02-17

True, it was empty, as he had guessed.
True, il was a pontoon boat, built of hide
stretched tightly over a frame. But such a
sight there in the blacGness of night by the
three graves no man ever saw before.
1t was the great, white Spanish bull;
and looking him right in the face across the
narrow rim of nodding lilies.
The eyes were brilliant little lamps
trimmed and burning so brightly that the
whole little heart of the corpse was lighted
like festal hall.
The wide and splendid horns were per-
fectly in place. The mighty neck had lost
none Of its noble strength and audacity.
The widened nostrils were in the air. The
ears were alert. Battle and blood were in
every fold OF the sweeping brisket.
1t was wonderful work OF art that the
strange girl had anchored here in the
breathing well bv the neatly kept graves.
The skin had been opened at the back, the
legs drawn up and fastened from within.
The noble brute rode the waters on his
breast as bravely as when the adventures
Europa hestrode her milk-white bull tar
back beyond the dawn of history and swan
the HellesDont.
There were no oars or place for oars. A
paddle may have been hidden within; but
it was perilous making inquiry here, and
the artist was too much lost in admiration
for this beautiful piece of work to be rudely
curious.
He noted, however. that great cords hung
loose and abundant about the narrow OPEN
ing like that in an Indian fsherman's s
canoe, as if the boat might be almost en-
tirely closed. Broad flaps OF sealskin hang
ing down the sides from the opening gave
proof of this
Clearly the boat was anchored there in
i ff,Sf OF Erb
not be seen. But the cunning hand and
singular strength Of body and mind that had
fashioned this most curious boat cut out of
a bulls hide and the little bay boughs
could not long be at a loss for means of an
chorage.
This bay tree here, growing in long, slim
little branches all over this part OF the land
as a sort of frieze or border on the banks of
redwood groves is =he old Greek bay. This
graceful and evergreen tree, spicy and frag
rant, is the sacred lanrel of old which even
the lightning respected. 1t is the same
fbrous, tough. pliable and sinuous bough,
becoming hard as steel when dried, that
bore the laurel wreaths for which the COM
petitorS at the Olympic games struggled as
the sole reward OF their powers for SO many
centuries.
Surely pedigree, story, history, charac-
ter, is worth something, even in a tree.
Whether the girl came daily to trim her
lamps and her graves the man could not
guess, but certain it was now that he had
learned so much that he was sorry for his
intrusion; half ashamed and curious to
know how he should look her in the face
the next day and contriye to keep the truth
from her.
The debate did not last long. Far back
in lie he had been assured by one
who had right to say tina: the simple truth
is best; the plain clean truth first and all
the time. He would tell her all conceal
ing only the name of Sanello, and take the
consequence of his audacity and her dis
pleasure.
While he resolved thus the great proud
neck rose and bobbed on the bosom of the
breathing waters and the savage head
tossed In his face even above the top of the
topmost lilies. The waters boiled and
bubbled over the river and flowed at his
feet.
Then suddenly they began to recede; and
down, down, down! The lights drew down
and the man stood alone in the darkness.