Morning journal and courier. [volume] (New Haven [Conn.]) 1848-1894, 1890-02-08

surely che had told me the way truthfully;
for On turning through shadowy gorge,
there lay the great valley of the Pisuerga,
with the spires and domes of Valladolid
away to the east, and, here almost at the
mountain base, the grim walls of Simancas,
where, hamlet though the place is, may be
found the richest store of ancient archives
in all Spain. Just little way beyond me
were some innocent enough looking peasants,
with few bundles Of wood, a couple Of ia.
cas-, two or three old blunderbusses, and as
many NANCY dogs; apparently group of
simple mountain patans, or peasants, resting
idly by the way. They responded to my sal
utation pleasantly, whereupon I proffered
each cigarette. These were accepted with
many ''gracias," and turned to go.
"Arto!" ('Halt!'D cried one in low but
firm voice Of command. As turned again
was looking in the face of three rusty old
trabucos or b1underbusses.
am not sure but had run for it towards
Valladolid could have out-distanced either
the shots from their rusty trabucos or their
much more dangerous legs. But I simply
raised my hands, walked squarely up to
them with smile and said: "Most excel
lent senores of de Torezos, you are less poor
than I, but still welcome to all possess"
They had it all-about seven dollars in
Spanish coin, for my luggage and credit let.
ters had gone from Astorga to Valladolid by
rail-in a moment. I then claimed the priv-
ilege of resting a little time with them, and
questioning them about their manner of get
ting on In the world. One old rheumatic
villain, distorted, misshapen, almost physi-
cally helpless, was the only genuine bandit
among them. All the others, save one, were
the most simple hearted souls that live.
That one was brave, fine fellow, going
wrong under heart-heavy load of indignity
and grief. His wife had been my unwilling
hostess of the previous night. She had sent
me across the mountains with particularly
of direction that made my acquaintance with
her husband compulsory. 70 him ap-
pealed for the reasons why he should leave
an honest peasants life, and, under the in-
fuence of the unhung old wretch Of his lit
tie band, start straight In this sort of life for
the guarda's bullet or death at the garrote.
His story was long one, but, briefly told,
his youngest brother, whom he had loved
better than his own life, who had been sent
to Cuba as conscript, had been shot like a
dog at Moro castle for attempted desertion
after suffering untold indignities.
"Shot at Moroa-And in 1SS6s-And had
he blue eyes, light hair and fine, fair face2'
Yes, yes, yes, and yes again. Then there in
the mountain way, where had been robbed
of SO mean sum that was ashamed of it,
I told this man as best could fact of my
own experience, which I will be pardoned
for telling to your readers IN slightly diff
ferent way:
Gel desertarl" ''El desertarl" were the
low toned CALCULATIONS heard all about me
one April morning. in 1886, in the cabin of
the ferry boat "Edouard Fesser," as it left
the Regla eide for the two mile trip across
Havana bay to the city. The cabin was we'll
filed, and in a moment there came fussing
and fuming through the narrow passage to
the forward cabin Spanish sergeant and a
guard having in charge man of most pitt
full appearance. I made room quickly 60
that two seats were vacant near me in which
the guard and his prisoner sat, the latter
next to me, while the sergeant, bearing q
paper with dangling seal, strode forward a
bit, pompous with the importance of his
gayest of crowds between Havana and the
beautiful suburbs to the east, but the en-
trance of the party hushed the laughter and
pleasant sallies of men and women instant
ly. All present seemed painfully sxerting
themselves to ignore the presence of the lit
tie group, but every one from time to time
stole secret glances at the deserter. and, we'll
for humanity, not hard look fell upon him.
Some old priests near seemed to be moving
their lips as if in prayer for him, and be-
hind many fan could see the face of some
beautiful sonora or senorita in tears. I
knew well enough what it all meant, having
once been a soldier myself, but l did not
catch the full import of the brutal celebrity
of Spanish military revenge until the guard
ON closing hippant recital to passenger
next to him to the effect that the man had
deserted from the forces at Moro castle some
weeks before, after a tremendous hogging
for some slight ipfraction of discipline, had
got so far as the Jaruco mountains, where he
baffied pursuit for some time until finally
run down by blood hounds--remarked airily:
"Ah, yes. He will really not even need
breakfast again. The eonsejo de guerra
(court martiaD is already awaiting his arri-
vail"
This deserter was but boy. He had a
fair face too, round, almost boyish, even
through the hunted look that had made him
an old man in terror and desperate effort
during those few weeks in the chaparral.
His clothing was in rags, and his bare flesh,
SCARED and bloody, showed through. His
feet were partly bound with rags and bark
and thongs of the ribbon tree. He was bare
headed, his hair tangled and knotty, and in
one place saber cut was still open and
bleeding. But he sat there with-his hands
clinched and his face like piece of marble
begrimed with mud.
Through the windows of the ferry the
spars, rigging and flags of a thousand ships
upon the peaceful bsy cleaned and glowed
as we passed. The sun that lighted the
whole earth with such splendor kissed the
mountain and made old Moro castle even
beautiful. The deserter looked at Moro as
with an awful fascination. Then, as II be-
yond 1t and what he knew was waiting for
him there, the poor fellows eyes seemed
strained to some point far, far away. All,
his frantic soul vaulted the hated walls to
old CASTLE, mayhap to his own peasant
home, to the mother, the sisters. to peas
ant. girls thatched roof home by the vine
yard, and brave as he was trying to be, bis
whole frame writhed, his breast heaved and
surged, and, though he clinched his hands
tighter and looked old Moro squarely in the
face, his blue Dyes filled and filed again with
tears that scalded their way through the
chaparral filth on his face like torrents. A
dozen schemes for rescue shot through my
brain. The sight and thoughts sickened me
could scarcely remain in that cabin for the
pity this man reused in me.
Having recently graduated from the edi.
torship of high grade literary periodical oi
"Middle America" my sole helpful posses
sions In Cuba at that moment were q small
piece of plug tobacco and two dollar Banl
Of Havana bill. quickly had these made
in q compact wad. I got my knee against
his leg. He started and looked me full In
the face. My hand was on the low iron di:
vision rail between the seats, and it touched
his. God knows soldiers human sympa
thy to soldier in some subtle way swept
from my heart to his in that touch. Hie
clinched hand relaxed and turned. The
palm was next mine. Oar hands clasped
and there was q quick pressure. We were
born thousands of miles apart, had never
met until that instant, would never again
meet unless in eternity, but we knew more
of each other in that one moment than some
life acuuaintances and somehow believe I
will find the face that was then the second
time turned on me somewhere In the undis.
covered country when I am Get to travel
there. But the ferry boat had bumped
against the Havana wharves.
Through the clatter and clamor and
crowds the deserter was showed and saber.
prodded to the Plaza de Ia San Carlos; hur
ried into victoria alongside which were two
mounted guardas, and driven RAPIDLY away.
I could not work that day and wandered
| along the walls of La Punta restlesss, heart.
sick and with the white face of that desper'
ate life ever before me. At four O'Clock JUS
ACROSS the narrow harbor entrance were heari
some ominous drum beats. On the httl,
| plaza Just over the sea on the heights 9
| Moro there were movements of small squad
| of soidiery. We could see all this plainl.
| from La Punta. feared what 1t meant
could not bear it and hurried away. just q
| I reached the old Boquete wallis there was
i sound of musketry ct Moro. looke'
across the channel and saw the smoke froI
their pieces we'll nigh enfolding them al
But I saw through and through that. .lclou