The Laurens advertiser. (Laurens, S.C.) 1885-1973, 1896-10-13
HE GOOD @ NOTHING.

lay all before him, for the great plains
were ss familiar 10 him as the streets
of q city r TO its inhabitants. His
back throbbed and smarted from the
lashes he had received, but the greater
smart was within. every fiber Of his
moral being tingled with the disgrace
that had been put upon him, and he
resolved to bury himself forever In
some far-0R corner Of the north coun-
try, where, perchance, the story OF his
shame might not penetrate.
On the third day OF his solitary ride
he sighted the .Wascana creek, and
dotted three Indian lodges standing on
its bank. A couple OF starved dogs
howled dismally as he drew near, but
no smoke or other sign Of life was APP
parent. He hailed In Cree ; silence,
save for the m%ournfui whining Of tho
dogs, that now skunk whimperin2
about his horses feet. He advanced
cautiously, puzzled at the uncanny APP
p~earance of-thiDgs. and became con-
scious OF an offensive Odor that grew
more palpable'at every step. Alarmed,
and intensely excited, he Ieaped to the
ground and strode swiftly to the door
OF the nearest teppee. Horror | With
in lay five swollen oorpses-a man, o
woman and three children-small-pox!
He turned to hy from the plague
Strlchen piaCo, out % leeoio nuonh, eo
faint as to be almost inaudible, ar
rested him. He listened intently.
Water"
Oh, the pitiful pleading conveyed In
that one simple worldwide could resist
it? In an instant Louis had forgotten
his terror, his danger, his disgust,
everything except that a. fellow-crea-
ture was in dire distress In less time
than it takes to record the good deed,
The was tenderly supporting the poor,
fever stricken form, while holding u
precious, life-giving draught to the
swollen lips.
The survivor of the camp was a
young Cree woman She had nursed
the others while her strength lasted,
and then, ercom by the pestilence,
had lain down to die. When Louis
found her, the disease had run its
course, and thanks to the timely cup
Of cold water and his after good Offices,
her life WAS saved. He made q shelter
Of willow branches near tho waters
edge, tOwhich he removed his patient,
making her q comfortable bed Of grass
and leaves, over which he spread his
own blankets. Then he set about dis
} posing of the dead. He burned the
} teppees and their contents, and man
aged, with infinite toi!-an X being
the only tool available L Scoop out the
trench in which he deposited the poor
! semblances of humanity-eleven in
number. His self-imposed task was
} loathsome in the extreme, and when Ii
was completed he felt sick and eX'
nausted.
He learned from the young woman,
: who was rapidly regaining strength,
that she and her companions had
/, formed one Of q number of small parties
ipfN which tho main IN m N nf fha (irnns
| had broken up when the disease first
attacked them, hoping in that way tC
: avoid contagion. 1t was believed tC
( have come to them through the Blood's
and Sarcees, from the Wood Mountain
, country, where it " as said to DO raging
l He heard her story with great con
: Germ. He knew that the hunters were
5 following the buffalo to the southwest
which would lead them directly to the
I very source of the disease. If, happily
b they had thus far escaped falling ir
/ fleeing in all directions from the dread
: pestilence, there might even yet be
time to save the brigade by turning
them back to the settlement. He wa.
sick. His bones were racked with
pain, his head splitting, his. eyes burn
ing, his throat parched, his step heavy
; and uncertain, but, no matter, no woult
5 make the attempt. The dis
r suaded him.
"Stay, my brother. 1t is not in the,
S to do what thou wouldst. The baC
sickness is upon thee, even now, Int
before thou hast ridden far, the blind
t ness will come, and who then will LEAF
e thee to the people ? Stay, l will care
n for thee when thy strength Leaves
and when it returns, we will go to
d gether and warn the hunters"
He would lesten to neither argumen
nor appeal ; his resolve was taken ant
a he would carry it out or die. So hi
mounted his horse and set his FAC,
& IIsusthwar1. His thought was to heat
off the brigade OF the trail which b
felt sure they were following, and pos
d up D. warning that they would be sur,
d to find. If he could only succeed, wha
IS would the rest matter. He had livet
d too long. The day Of his disgrac,
should have been his last, but If he &C
complished his present purpose, AM
d saved his dear little child friends ant
their good mothers, and Marie--hi
< Marie-his life had beer well eXpend
d ed. Weak and pest-stricken as h,
n vas, he urged his horse forward, tax
ng no heed OF time, unless to ours
tae tagging moments when he wa
forced to stay his race with death t
rest INC feed his trusty broncho. H
= dared not sleep. When 0 in tn,
saddle, he forced his trembling limb
to bear him to and fro, to and fro
o weary picket repelling the advance O
ambush of death. AT times fearful
shapes appeared in his pathway, sur
rounded, pursued him {; fcndish voice
@ whispered threats Of nameless horror
n shricked maledictions, or Knocked hin
with hellish laughter, but still he rod
southwark, numbed and unconscious o
d physical pain, possessed and sustained
by one fierce, eager longing tina
usurped all other sensations. How
long and how far he rode he knew not
The horse, logged and forced to th'
limit OF endurance, faltered In hi
stride and gave signs of collapse, al
t one morning at sunrise he toiled weari
ly to the summit OF Il little hill tina
overlooked tho Wood Mountain trail
The poor brute stopped on the hilltop
aud uttered a loud neigh that reused
his master from the stupor into which
Il he had fallen. An an wering neigt
came up from the valley, and raising
himself painfully upright, Louis saw
d through u blood-red mist, TWO mounted
men approaching rapidly-the advance
Q guard of tho brigade.
"Ho, H0. :" they hailod as they
s camo nearer. but. holy name, iii
A Louis I! Ho, no, boy, what are you
doing there!'
. Stop he s%hrieked, "stop for your
lives! The pest-the small-pox-is