The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1894-03-07

ngng desire to he first held me, and II
Ealloped as if in Il dream.
Bader led, the riderless gray laundering
beside him. AbsalOm rode stirrup to stir
rup with me. He was veteran of the
whole war. Where it was that his sorrel
rolled over | do not remember at all,
though perfectly remember how Absalom
sprang up, staggered, shouted "Nly foot
is sprained," and fell as | turned to look
at him and went racing on.
Then heard above the sound of oui
hoofs the voice of the veteran of the war
Down as he was. hurt as he was, his spirit
was unbrOkcn. In the favorite song of the
army his voice rose clear and gay an0
piercing
Hurrah for the Unionl
Hurrah, boys, hurrahl
Shouting the battlecry of frecdoml
We turned our heads and cheered him as
we flew for there was something indie
scribably inspiriting in the gallant and
cheerful Tilt of the fallen man. 1t was as
if he flung us from the grief of utter d.,
feat soul unconquerable, and felt the
life in me strengthened by the tone.
Old Bader and | for It'll He led by
hundred yards, and Crowfoot's gray kept
his stride. Was | gaining on them? How
was it that | could see his figure outlined
more clearly uRulnSJ lue nOrlLOul surely
lawn was not coming on!
so. | Looked round on n world of naked
1caoh orchards and cornfields ragged with
last years stalks, all dimly lit by n moon
that showed far from midnight, and that
CoiEt leht On the horizon was not III the
eas, but in the west. The truth flashed
on me. | was looking at such an illumi
nNtion of the sky as would be caused 10y
the Camp.lrtS of an army!
"The missing brigade!' | shouted.
cor sojl,hern DIVISION Bader cried.
"Come On!'
Core on! was certainly gaining on
him, but very slowly. Before the nose OF
my bay was beyond the tail of his roam
the wide illuminations had become more
distinct, and still not a vedette, not pick
ct, not a sound of the proximity of an
ARMY
Bader and | now rode side by side, an
| Crowfoot's gray easily kept the pace. My
horse was in plain distress, but Bader's
| was nearly done.
"Take the paper, Adam, " he said. "My
roam won't go much farther. Goodby,
| youngster. Away you CO." And drew
| ahead now quickly.
Still Bader rode on behind me. In few
| minutes he was considerably behind. Per.
feeling of weakness Was / going to reel
out of the saddleP Had l lost so much
| blood as that? Still l could hear BadcI
| riding on | turned to look at him. AL
| ready he was scarcely visible. Soon he
| dropped out of sight, but still heard the
| laborious pounding of his desperate horse
My bay was gasping horribly. How
far was that family yellow sky ahead? l
| might be two, it might be five miles. Were
| Union or southern soldiers beneath It'll
| Could it be conceived that no troops of the
enemy were between it and me?
Never mind. My orders were clear. ]
rode straight on and / was still riding
straight on, marking no increase in the dis
tress of my Jay, when he stopped as il
shot, staggered, fell on his knees, tried to
rise, fell on his side, groaned and lay.
was so weak that could not clear my
self. l remember my right spur catching
in my saddlecloth as tried to free my foot.
Then pitched forward and fell.
Not yet senseless, / clutched at my
breast for the dispatch, meaning to tear il
to pieces but there my brain failed, and
in full view of the goal of the night lay
unconscious. When | came to, l rose on
my left elbow and looked around Neal
my feet my poor bay lay stone dead.
Crowfoot's gray-where was Crowfoot' &
grayp
1t flashed on me that might mount the
fresh horse and ride on. But where wa
the grayp AS peered round / heard faint
ly the sound of galloper. Was he com
ing my way' No. Family and more fain
| ly | heard the hoofs.
Had the gray gone on then, without tn
dispatch? / clutched at my breast. My
coat was unbuttoned-the paper was gone
Well, sir, cheered. My God, but il
was comforting to hear those faraway
hoofs and know that Bader must have
come up, taken the papers and mounted
Crowfoot's gray, still good for a 10 mile
ride. The dispatch was gone forward
we had not all fallen in vain-maybe the
brigades would be saved
How clearly the stars shonel When
stifled my groaning, they seemed to tell
me of great peace to come. How still
was the night And I thought of the 81
lence of the multitudes who had died fol
the Union.
Now the galloping had quite died away
There was not sound slight breeze
blew, but there were no leaves to rustic.
put my head down on the neck of my dead
horse. Extreme fatigue was numbing the
pain of my now swelling arm. Perhaps a
sleep was near-perhaps l was swooning
But sound came that somewhatreviv-
ed me. Far, low, joyful it crept on the air
/ sat up, wide awake. The sound, at first
faint, died as the little breeze fell ther
grew in the lull and came ever more clear
~ as the wind again rose. 1t was sount
never to be forgotten-the sound of the
distant cheering of thousands of men
Then knew that Bader had galloped int
the Union lines delivered the dispatch
and told story which had quickly passed
through wakeful brigades.
Bader | never saw again, nor Lieuten
ant Miller, nor any man with whom | rod
that night. When | came to my senses,
was in the hospital at City Point Thence
Invent home invalided. No surgeon, m
nurse, no soldier at the hospital could tel
me Of my regiment or how or why | wa
where ! was All they could tell me wa
that Richmond was taken, the army ia
away in pursuit of Lee and rumor fyinl
that the great commander of the souti
had surrendered near Appomattox Cour
, House.-Ed,oard W, Thompson, in Youth
Companion.
ALL FREE.-Those who have use
4 L.