The Sunday herald and weekly national intelligencer., 1891-12-13
A RACE WITH DEATH.
A TOUCHING INCIDENT OF TRAVEL
IN THE SOUTH.
Written for THE HERALD.

Written for THE HERALD.
The train had stopped for a few minutes at
a small settlement in the mountains of North
Carolina. Among those who came aboard was
agreat, tall, young mountaineer, clad in simple
homespun stuff, carrying in his arms wee bit
of humanity, and accompanied by slight,
timid little soul yet In her teens. Something
in their simple and shrinking manners, some-
thing in the tender solicitude with which they
hovered over the bundled mite In the arms of
the young fellow at once drew the attention
OF every one. The car was crowded, but In
stantly seats were vacated for them, and two
rough, half-drunken fellows In the seat before
them, quicker than the rest to divine the SIT
uation, relinquished their seat and turned 1t
back SO that the little one might be snugly
placed thereon. But after she had seated
herself, with the bundle now clasped close to
her breast, the little woman would not put 1t
away from her until the great awkward fellow
beside her had, with moistened eye and trem-
bling lip, persuaded her that 1t was best.
Then 1t was that we saw that In the hearts of
the two beat the love and hope of father
and mother, and that that love and hope was
bound up in the life which we now saw
futtered for escape from the tiny form before
them as frightened bird fiutters for freedom
from the hand of its captor.
We had been rather roughly behaved car
load; jests coarse and loud had foated among
us, and only thoughts born OF such had come
to us. But now, as we dashed on ahead, up
wild pine-covered hills, down graceful, wind
ing slopes, that humanity which, thank God,
Is rarely entirely lost, even In this pushing,
selfish time OF ours asserted Itself, and all
hearts went out to that young couple from
whom the Great Reaper sought to rob that
little life so dear to them. There was not a
man among us but that marched up and ten
dered his aid, and whispered, awkwArdly per-
haps, but surely all the more sincerely word
or two Of sympathy. Yet, there was nothing
we could do, but In the strong, firm grasp Of
the young mountaineer's hand and In the
simple uplifting of those girllsh eyes, we
ten. sour leetle gal thar" explained the
young fellow, pointing to the little form
lying SO still before him, "hez ben porely fur
more'n er week sence; but Mary here, she
Flowed thet ther' war'nt no tekin' on bout 1t,
ez she wud mend tn leetle one in no time.
An so it 'peared she did, but to-day tn leetls
one 'gin ter 90 bac' an bac', an so fas',
stranger, thet thar wuz but one hope, an thet
wuz ter jump th' kyars an TEX her ter town
fur tn doctor ter see th' leete one. Thar's
whar we're boun now, an these yere kyars
can't 90 tn fas' fur us, stranger ~
1t is race between life and death now and
all of us realize that death will be the winner.
But the great iron monster ahead seems to
awaken to the fact that all depends on it, and
on, on it dashes sending shrill screams OF def
ance echoing through the towering pines. The
sun has sunk to illumine another world,
and as the twilight deepens into night, the
young mother clasps the helpless little body
to her heart, and presses her lips again and
again upon the little face which but reflects
her own sweet looks. Faster and faster still
we now dash on, and the town lies but little
way ahead But faster, still faster than the