The National tribune., 1891-02-26

revenge Of the old Mexican and his band.
struggled hard TO keep up courage, but some
how 1 could not shake of the presentiment
that my fate was sealed, that my last resting
place would be among the hills OF this desc
| late country.
We rode so slowly that in two hours do
| not think that we made more than five or six
miles, when we came to halt. 1t was almost
dark and i could make very little out, ex-
cept that we had stopped at a rough shanty,
from the window of which came faint light
as il from a tallOw dip My guard sulkily
told me to dismount, which did. 1t took
but moments observation to convince me
that there was considerable excitement both
in and outside the house could hear loud
talking in one direction, oaths and curses
came from another, while from the house
could be heard the voice of a negro crying
and loudly lamenting the death of his
young master, whose body il was evident
had reached the place few moments before
my arrival
Near where we were standing observed
an open doorway, from which came faint
glimner of light / could see, though in
distinctly, the occupants and furniture OF
the room. A small bed stood in one corner,
upon which lay something covered with q
up and down the room, and reason told me
what ii was-the dead and the watcher.
After some delay they took me to an old
mud building searched me and took every
thing that possessed of value or that would
in any way be Of use to me in effecting my
escape. One article am thankful to say
was overlooked, and without which would
not have been able TO write this communi-
cation. 1t was my memorandum book. The
inside pocket of my coat had, in some man
ner, been torn, and the book had slid down
into the lower lining, so that in searching
my pockets they missed il. The small pencil
II contained IS nearly worn out, but think
il will last until have finished this letter.
After searching me j was securely locked
in the mud building. had hardly time to
realize the loneliness of my prison before q
man carrying a lantern opened the door,
and, speaking to n negro who accompanied
him, telling him to hurry up, permitted him
TO enter.
"Ain't got much TO eat desc times, Marsa,"
the darlSy said but you's welcome to the
best we've got long AZ you stay, which /
reckon won't be long after what you've done
He! he!" and the darky chuckled as though
he had said something especially witty.
Here's hominy, bacon and bread, and q
bucket Of water j 'specks you won't starve
on dat Here's q blanket for you, since you
amt got none yourself You KANT hab dis
light to eat by, cause I'm going now" And
suiting his actions TO his words, he went out
aud locked the door. drank some water
and ate some bread; then lying down upon
the worn blanket / tried TO sleep. Did
sleep2 Yes, strange as it may seem, when
thought Of home, when my memory went
back TO my mother, pleasant languOr stole
over me and soon was in dreamland. Isitnot
strange how my mind could in slumber drop
all that was SO bitter and return to the
sweet peacefulness of my home? One can
not fathOm the mysterious actions of the
mind. i only know that my sleep was as
sweet that night, as lay upon that hard
floor, prisoner, perhaps doomed to die, as
when In infancy slumbered in my cradle,
soothed by my mothers gentlest lullaby.
In my dream did not see the blood
stained face of the dead, or feel the awful
grasp Of the Ayenger No, saw nothing
like that, but, instead, ! saw my mothers
dear face in all its mild and gentle loyeli-
ness. j saw my little romping sister teasing
the kitten on the porch. and my lazy dog,
sleeping as usual, in the cool shade beneath
the trees. Truly my repOse was sweet, and
In the daylight took careful survey of
nay place OF confinement, for / had deter
mined that. If there was any chance of max
ing my escape, / would accomplish it. There
was very little hope, however, as had not
as much as pocket-knife to work with.
soon heard voices outside. Two men were
talking; listened. They were talking about
the way they had slaughtered my friends
the " GringOes," they called them. j heard
enough 10 convince me that they had all
been murdered and robbed.
My hope was at low ebb now, for l knew
| that they would not spare me, the one who
had wTODged them, as they thought the
most. 1t must have been about seven o'clock
when my door was again opened by the same
negro who bad brought me my supper. He
carried pot Of black coffee and some bread.
determined, if possible, to ascertain what
| the Mexicans were intending to do with me.
Eight or ten men were lounging around the
door, so i knew i would be Obliged to use
| the utmost caution in cOnyeTsing.
The negro entered and / bid him good
4 morning.
GOOD mornin', sal" he answered. "Here's
some grub for you. We don't get much fancy
stuff in desc parts nowadays"
! thanked him, and told him was sorry
/ could not pay him for his kindness. He
looked into my face and, slowly shaking his
| head, said:
"Marss, old Phil don't want nothn' from
you. I'd sure like to do you good turn ii
could, but KANT see no way for to do il.
/ can't talk much, or they'll be 'spectin', you
know; but I'm goin to tell you dat Marsa
Mex (dat's what we calls de boss is a bad
'un, and he will be mighty hard ON you fur
KILN his boy. No, Marss, i knows dar's nc
hope for you, kase heard de old man tellin'
one of de men last night dat he'd tend to
| you as soon as he'd buried his boy, and dat
ill be in day OF two. IL you wants TO send
any writin' 10 your folks, I'll do de best ]
can to get il into one of dem pOstoffiees for
you. ] amt sure how long it III be, but I'll
take il some time. I'd like for you TO cit
away, but knows you can't do it, for they's
going to watch you mighty close after disn
i thanked the honest old man from my
heart, even though his words were Of such
terrible import 10 me, for his kind thought
fulness. j could talk with him no longer
for my heart was nearly bursting. Neither
cOnld the negro remain longer without ex-
citing suspicion. So with kind word he
closed and locked the door, leaving me
alone ~
o, my friend God grant that you may
never experiences the Hretchedness of being
all alone and almost on the brink of eternity
From my burdened heart ] asked for
strength to sustain me in my greatest need
! Becoming more composed, again, as in the
] L. raaa a1 a. III .4r.