Lancaster daily intelligencer. [volume] (Lancaster, Pa.) 1864-1928, 1889-09-21

handcuffed and linked together BY q
short chain, which, without materially
impeding their ordinary movements,
would effectually disable them In eight.
At the same time I noticed that every
man OF the gray coats" had short
sword at his side and loaded rifle with
In reach Of his hand.
Then the truth flashed upon me. These
merry gamesters were Q convict chain
gang bound for Siberia, and the Russians
with whom they were playing and jok-
ing % gayly were the soldiers who
guarded them, and who were ready to
kill them without mercy at the least
sign Of an attempt at escape.
Az hurried down the ladder for q
nearer view Of them the hard faced old
sergeant commanding the party, across
whose brown cheek ran the scar Of Cir
cassiau saber. caught my eye and smiled
meaningly.
"Your honor hasn't often Travelled In
such company, fancy" said he, greet
ing with stiff salute my Russian forage
cap and white military jacket.
"Oftener than you think, my lad; but
who are these Gagged birds Of yoursY"
"These Circassians are brigands from
q gang that we've just broken up in the
Daghestan mountains; most Of the others
are murderers. That fellow sitting yon-
der by the mast has committed twenty
three murders, II not more, for he may
have forgotten few."
The murderer, guessing that we were
speaking Of him, smiled complacently,
while looked keenly at him for some
outward sign Of the fcrocity which could
perpetrate such unsparing slaughter.
But found absolutely none.
"Here's another" resumed the SER
geant, pointing to big, slouching fel-
low, whose heavy face had no expression
beyond coarse good humor. Ellis
baby disturbed him at night by crying,
so he got up and strangled 1t, and then
went to sleep again" "a fact.)
just then girlish voice, clear and
joyous as the carol Of skylark, rose
from the forecastle, singing an old Rus
sian wedding song:
Heat the tea urn, mother dear-bake the cakes
for tea;
Guests today to thee will come-wooers gay to
Outo tncc tHcy RiNe UoW, uuto INC n klSS,
And merry day well hase, merrier e'en than
Then the singer appeared from behind
a pile Of chests-a slender young girl
who seemed hardly IS, though really
several years older, with face SO fresh,
and bright, and pure that it might have
taken its place among the child angels of
Raphael's wonderful "Sistine Madonna"
"Good heavenw cried l, starting; "what
can that child have done?"
Murdered her husband" said the Rus
sian coolly, "a drunken old rogue Of
money lender, old enough to be her
grandfather, and ugly as the devil him.
self. He used to come home drunk
every night and swear at her and beat
her, and OF course she didn't like that;
and there was perhaps some other man
whom she liked better; SO one night she
filled up the old fellow with liquor till
he was quite helpless, and then laid him
face downward on the floor, with his
head in pan of water; and 80" (with
chuckle) che died of apoplexyw
So ghastly was the contrast between
this hideous story and the sweet, child
like face of its heroine, that I had no
heart to pursue the talk any further; and
1t was an unspeakable relief to me when,
little after midnight, the shadowy hull
Of half seen vessel glided toward us
through the gloom as we neared the
mouth Of the Volga. and the clank of
chains told me that this load OF crime
and misery was being transferred from
our deck to hers This, however, was
not to be my last meeting with Russian
convicts; but the story Of my further ex-
periences of the Siberian chain gang is
too long one to be told here.