Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1890-02-08

route, unknown to any but such as he, had
made his way to a solitary hut, built long
ago of wattles and fern by some shepherd.
Here he proposed to lie quiet feeding on
roots or wild fruits, till such time as the
supine police should get tired of their hunt
and the patrols be recalled eonsumma-
ton which he knew well would ensue in a
week or two at most Till then it was no
great hardship, after months in the pesti-
lestial prison where he had lain before his
trial, to be out here in the canyon, drink
ing the pure spring water, searching for
roots and berries, and now and then snar-
ing bird or a hare to vary the monotony
of vegetarian diet
He was lying at the mouth of little
cave on the evening Of the sixth day after
his escape, meditating on the possibility of
getting his band together again and resum-
ing operations in some other part of Ana
tolia, when the train of his thoughts was
broken by the distant sound of something
pushing its way through the brushwood.
In moment the hunted look returned to
his eyes, and clutching large stone with
his right hand, he crawled cautiously for
ward to the edge of the rocky shelf below
his cave, and lying fat on his stomach
peered into the tree-tops below. Nearer
and nearer came the sound, and tighter
Osman clutched the stone, his only weapon,
until, emerging from the break immedi-
ately underneath him, tall Greek stood
full in view painting for breath. A mo-
menfs intense scrutiny, and Osman relax
| ing his hold on the stone, bounded down
| the slope to meet him.
$50 it was thou, Dimitri," he cried, seiz-
| ing him by both hands before the Greek
| could finish his low salaam, sit was thou
| who hast given me back freedom and life
By the beard of my father ii was long
before I recognized thee in the Court, with
that lump on thy back and the patch over
thine eye. But, by Allah, thou hast re-
paid me nobly for the life l gav7 thee
seven years ago, when I took thee from
the midst of the pasha's guards; dost thou
remember ?"
"Can the child forget its mother or the
servant his master ~ answered the Greek,
bending gratefully to kiss the hands which
held his. "But how did my lord escape
from the swift waters and come hither ?"
"Allah, the compassionate, upheld me"
said Osman, and leading Dimitri up the
the slope to the cave, told him briefly the
course of events after the plunge into the
Calycadnus. "But," he concluded, "thou
must tell me how it Jared with thee"
81 have nothing to tell" replied the
other quickly. 81 ran down the nearest
alley while those dogs were shouting and
looking for thee, and lay in the house of
Hussein Mustapha for a night and day,
till it was safe to come up to thy mothers
village. From her l heard where thou
vert likely to have gone, and l would
have brought thee meat and news two days
ago but the patrols were out night and
day but see, have brought thee bread at
last he added, drawing from under
his capote parcel of unleavened Yuruk
| bread and dried meat, which the hunted
man seized and began to eat ravenously.
! Suddenly he stopped and turned to Dimi-
tri, whose eyes followed his every move
ment.
Sand the news? What of her-my
mother? Quick-speakl What! have they
killed her because they could not get me?
Speakw he cried vehemently, "for, by the
head of Allah -"
"Nay, not yet" interposed Dimitri
hastily, 'tnot yet, but likely enough before
long; for they came to thy village before
the sun was set on the day
after thine escape, and the bin
hashi himself broke into thy mothers
house and tore the veil from her face be-
cause she would not say where thou vast to
be found" He paused and seemed to
watch the effects of his words on the dark
face of Osman. Presently he continued;
"And still she would not speak. Then he
babe them tear the garments from her
shoulders"
"And they beat herr" groaned Osman
Chow can l tell all to my lord?" said
the Greek in low voice. ayes, they beat
her in the presence of all, and her blood
ran on the ground; and yet she spake. not
word of thee. How can tell more"
Again he paused, and for moment the
brigand sat motionless then, rising to his
feet, he cursed with frantic brutality,
from which even Dimitri, old comrade in
crime that he was, shrank appalled,, all
who had dared to lay hand upon his
mother. and finally swore by the beard Of
Allah himself to deal with them even as
he would deal some day with the dog who
had sold him to the Pasha's soldiers five
months ago, if he ever succeeded in find
| ing out who had been his betrayer. For
some minutes there was silence, broken
at last by the Greek:
Gone thing more | must tell thee. The
mother of my lord herself said; Go, tell
this to my SON. Behold, l have been
beaten with rods in the presence Of the
men, and my veil has been plucked from
nv face for thy sake Thus spoke the
bimbashi also to me- eff thou tellest not
the secret of thy son before three days are
past, will lodge thee where thou art little
| like to see his face again" Come if thou
canst tomorrow, two hours before sunrise,
to the fountain which is hear the cave Of
the rocks above the village, that may
see thee and talk with thee. The patrols
are gone in again to the town, and thou
canst come if thou wilt Thus spake the
mother of my lord to her servant"
Osman pondered a moment, then taking
the two hands of the Greek, he held them
between his own and spoke: "Swear to me
by the God thou worshippest that even as
l once gave thee thy life and madest thee
my comrade, and gavest thee share Of
all, so dost thou deal with me in this mat
ter as thou hast ever done"
even as have done by thee, so do / in
this; swear it by God" replied the Greek;
The moon was already low in the west
and it wanted little more than an hour to
dawn, when an old woman, barefooted and
closely shrouded in her long white yash-
max. stole cautiously forth from howell of
a little, mud-built village which lies in
the foothills above Selefkeh, and passed
quickly down the garbage-littered street.
/ No one was stirring; only here and there
| great yellow dog, doing in the hot, faint
air. raised his head and growled as the
woman passed, or sent out a halfhearted
velp, to be taken up languidly by half a
score of his kind in other quarters OF the
village and die again into silence. Climb
ing the slope above the village, she halted