Gloucester County Democrat. (Woodbury, N.J.) 1878-1932, 1892-02-18
JOHN BRENT
By THEODORE WINTHROP.


/ ICopyright 1891, by American Press Associa-
toni
isi said Biddulph to me next morning
as we rode along cheerily through the
fresh, frosty air of December. I think,
j when your continent gets to its finality
IN horseHesh, you will beat our island. )"
Think what training such trip IS!
This colnrade OF mine has come two
thousand miles with me-big thought,
elll--and lie freshens up with the ozone
4 Of this morning as il he had been in the
stable a week, champing asphodel, .
Fnlano felt my commendation. He
became electrified. He stirred under
me. gave him rein. He shook him
sell ont and began to recite his accom-
! splishnantss
He doubled his legs under him and
went off in high, jerlsy leaps, twice his
4 length every one.
He numbered along, shoulders low,
head handled like battering ram and
tail stiff out like a steering oar.
And he shambled forward in loose
/ jointed canter, looking back furtiyely
like a thief, sorry he didn't stop to steal
the other goose, but expecting Stop
theft every minute.
The day, after the crisp frostiness Of
/ its beginning, was a belated day Of In
/ dian summer; mild as the golden morn
i ings OF that calm, luxurious time. We
stopped to noon in a sunny spot OF open
pasture near a wide muddy slough Of
the Missouri.
4 We camped by fallen cottonwood
near the slough. The atmosphere was
hopeful. We picknicked meIrily, men
and beasts. "Three gentlemen at once"
over a chicken. soon dissipated this and
its trimmings We lighted the tranquil
calumet and lounged. watching our
horses at their corn.
Presently we began to fancy we heard,
then to think we heard, at last to be sure
we heard the baying of hounds through
the mild, golden air.
"Tally-hol' cried Biddulph, "what
day for u fox hunt This haze will
make the scent lie almost as well as the
clouds
"Musicl Musici" cried he again, spring
ing up, as the sound, increasing. rose and
fell along the peaceful air that lay on
earth so lovingly.
'Music, If it were in Merrie England,
where the hunt are gentlemen. A cursed
uproar here, where the hunt are man
stealers,' said Brent.
''No," said Biddulph. '.Those are fables
of the old, barbarous days Of the Maroons.
can't believe in dogs after men until
see it.
Tn afraid it's our friend Ham they
are after This would be his line Of es-
cape"
At the word, rustling in the bushes
along the slough, and Ham burst through.
He turned to run We shouted. He knew
rs and flung himself, livid with terror
and painting with fight, on the ground
at our feet-the poplar niggerip
''Oh, NASSAU he gasped. "Dey's gone
sot the dogs on me. Whatll do2"
''Can yoHswim, said I-for to me he
was kneeling.
s'No, massa; or I'd been across this yer
sloo fore dis.
"Can you rider
"Reck'n kin, massa."
A burst of baying from the hounds
The black shook with terror.
sprang to Fulano "Work for you,
old boy!" said I to him, as I flung the
snaf1e over his head.
"Here, Ham, up with you'll Put across
the slough. He swims like an alligator.
Then make for the north star, and leave
the horse for Mr.. Richard Wade, at the
fremont House, Chicago. Treat him like
a brother, Harnr'
s'Lor bress You, massal viii dat"
He vaulted up.
Fulano splashed in and took deep
water magnifcently.
The baying came closer, closer on his
trail
Two thirds across.
The baying ceased. The whole pack
drew a long wall.
''They see him, said Biddulph.
Almost acrosst A dozen more plunges.
EFulanol
A crowd Of armed men on horseback
dashed up to the bank two hundred
yards above US. It was open where they
halted. They could not see US among
the bushes on the edge Of the slough.
One of them pointed his rife quick
and steady. Horse and man, the fugi-
tives, were close to the bank and the
thiclet of safety.
Pingl
Almost over, as the rifle cracked, Ham
had turned at the sound Of his pursuers
crashing through the bushes. Fulano
swan high. He bore a proud head aloft,
conscious Of his brave duty. It was but
a moment since he had dashed away,
and the long lines Of his wake stiH
rippled against the hither bank.
We heard the bullet sing. 1t missed
the man as he turned. 1t struck Fulano.
Blood spirited from great artery He
fioundered forward
Ham caught the bushes on the bank,
pulled himself ashore, and clutched for
the bride.
Poor Fulanol He flung his head up
and paved the surface with great
spasm. He screamed a death scream,
like that terrible cry of anguish Of his
comrade martyred in the old heroic
cause in Luggernel alley We could see
his agonized eye turn back in the socket,
sending toward us a glance Of farewell
Noble horsel again savior. He
yielded and sank slowly away into that
base ditch.
We three on the bank looked at each
other forlornly. The horse, our hero,
had passed away from the scene, a
martyr.
CHAPTER Xxx.
BAcK TO OLD ENGLAND.
DEAR Mn. WADR-Wo- are Fastening on. I
can write you but one word. Our journey has
been prosperous. Mr.. Armstrong is very kind.
Ny dear father, | fear is shattered out Of all