Waterbury evening Democrat., 1889-11-07

months later, when found myself carrying my life in my hand over the wild Tartar steppes, beynd the bounds of civilization, where one remembers only as dim. far-oH dream the safe, humdrum world of hotels, railways and policemen in which a man may live for whole week without seeing single village burned or a single family murdered, and may actually go to bed with out any fear of being awakened by spear through his heart But it was fated that the ghastly scene should be suddenly re- called to my mind in very startling fash ion.
 had worked ny way slowly and wearily along the winding course of the Syr-Daria tJaXartcs), and was struggling across the jreary silclctcn-strewn waste that lies be- tween the head waters of the famous river and the southern border line of Siberia, when, one breaZeless, stifiing day of true Central Asian quality, as my Tartar guide and 1 were crouching under our little Turko- man wagon for shelter from the merciless sun (for not a tree nor even bush was to be found on that bare, burning soiD, sud denly cspied, far south, group of shadowy Ggures-whether men or beasts could not tell-moving slowly toward us.
 Were they the phantomS of mirage, such as had often seen already? No; they were too real for that; ard besides, instead of melting and vanishing they neared us, they kept growing larger and more distinct. l unstrapped my revolver, and my Tartar felt the edge of his khanjar (dagger) with business-lil1e air, for in this wild regIon every stranger Is a foe, and I could now make out through my spy-glass the glitter of spear heads and the figures of horsemen iu high black sheepskin caps, which at once suggested raiding party of the ''Black Uzbegs," the fiercest marauders in all Central Asia. True, we were rather far north for them, but, as their own proverb says, ''the vulture will fly far when he scents prey"
 Slowly the clump of dark forms moved on over the hot brassy yellow of the eternal desert, nearer and nearer still, till I could see that, of the ten I>en, six were on foot and moving with shuff1ing, clumsy gait, which told mo the truth at once-a truth sadly confirmed by the faint clanking that came to our cars just then through the dead silence.
 Another chain-gaug,' thought I. "A pretty place for men to cross on foot, and fettered into the bargain!'
 As they approached the leader of the four horscmcn (who.n we now saw to be in the uniform of the Russian irregular cavalry) rode forward with the usual challenge: ''Is it peacC?" end lowered his lance point I replied: 1t IS peace,'' and replaced my re- volver.
 To any one as familiar as myself with the famous ''Do1 Cossaci.s.'' this mans gaunt, siuewy frame, prominent features, coarse, dark hair, and small, keen, restless eyes were signs not to be mistaken, and at once saluted him in his native dialect with the ancient Cossack greeting that 1 had learned at their carap-tires long before. It was the key to OStan kostenko's heart. His stolid face frightened into a joyiaI | grin, and his strong, brown hand grasped mine with | force that made every joint craci1le.
 'Welcome, batko'' (the Cossack word for ''father'')! "Wen met! I see you have lived among in your time.''
 You are right, my lad; ought to know | by thls time what Cossack kliootor farm housel looks like, and how trorojI.a Icurd- cakel tastes. But what have these prison CTS of yours been doing!"
 ''kto znast:' (who knowsO said the Cos sack, care!essly. s.Ne've got orders to take them to Semipoiatinsk'' (a large town in Southern Siberia), and that's all know about it.'
 | Hooked at the prisoners. All six had an air of hopeless, spirltless apathy that might well make any mans heart ache; and their worn, hollow faces, grimed with dust, black with flies and haggard from thirst and eXt:: ::ss1iuu, looked hardly human. In truth they might well be worn out, for al though the chaius that linked their ankles i together were not very heavy. yet the labor of dragging them through that hot, pricllly, anGle-dcep sand (which rose up in stif1ing clouds at every step) must have been frightful.
 ''Harl1 ye, brother," said I, "your own
 proverb says that God will show mercy to the merciful,' and if these fellows are pris- oners, that's no reason why they should die Of thirst. It won't hurt you to halt for min ute or two while give them few slices of i watermelon to refresh them, and you and your comrades can have some too.''
 The Cossack readily assented; for though he would have died rather than own such a weakness, the heat and dust of this terrific march were beginning to tell even upon him. In few moments more he and his men were sgugiy seated in the shade of the wagon, swallowing mouthful after mouth ful of the cool, freS:, pulp with hoarse grunts of pleasure.
 But their enjoyment fell far short of that of the prisoners, who sucked in the life giving refreshm (which was both food and drink to thcm) with a frightful eagerness that showed how long and how cruelty they
 must have suffered. They gave me no thanks in words, nor indeed did 1 desire any, for any good wish would have sounded like a hidcous mocl1ery from the lips of men over whose whole future life brooded ''the blackness of darkness forever" but the
 look of relief in their sunllen eyes as they turned away to resume their weary jour ney was of itself an ample reward.-Davld
 ker, in Harper's Weekly.
 | WANTED A WARDROBE.