Audubon Republican. [volume] (Audubon, Iowa) 1894-1925, 1896-08-20
SHOT FOR A COMPANIONS LIFE.
Cut tho Rope by Which He Hung with .
Rifle Bullet.


Cut tho Rope by which He Hang with .
Rifle Bullet.
Cutliffe Hyne tells the story of q
| couple of young Englishmen in Peru
who were captured by notorious
guerrilla while fighting in the CHILEAN
service, and condemned to death on the
following conditions: That one should
be hung by the neck from Tree, and
the other given rifle to cut the rope
by shooting at it.
They handed me the rifle loaded and
cooked. 1t was a single-shot Winches-
ter, and / found afterward, though /
did not know it then, that either
through fiendish wish to further
hamper my aim or through pure forget
fulness, they had left the sights cooked
up at 800 yards. But that did not mat
ter. The elevation was detail of minor
import, besides L was handling the
weapon as IL game shot fires, with head
and eyes glued on the mark, and rifle
barrel following the eyes by instinct
alone. You must remember that had
no stationary mark to aim at. My
poor comrade was writhing and sway
ing at the end of his tether, and the
well rope swung hither and thithsr like
some contorted pendulum. Once l
fired, twice fired, six times, ten times,
and still the rope remained uncut, and
the bullets ratified harmlessly against
the white walls of the chapel beyond
With the 18th shot came the tingle Of
broken glass, and the bell, after a couple
of hurried, nervous clangs, ceased toll
ing altogether. With the 18th shot a
shout went up from the watching
crowd. / had stranded the rope, and
the body which dangled below the mag
nolia tree began slowly to gyrate.
"Then came halt in the firing. 7
handed the Winchester back to the
fellow who was reloading. But some
how or other the exploded cartridge had
damned in the breech. l danced and
ragged before him in my passion of hur-
ry, and the cruel brutes round yelled in
ecstasies of merriment. Only Garcia
did not laugh. He rerolled a fresh
cigarette with his thin, yellow fingers,
and leisurely rocked himself in the
split-cane chair. The man could not
have been more unmoved had he been
overlooking performance of Shake
speare. At last l tore the Winchester
from the hands of the fellow who was
fumbling with it and clawed at the
damned cartridge myself, breaking my
nails and smearing the breechlock with
blood. If it had been welded into one
solid piece it could hardly have been
firmer. But the thrill of the moment
gave my hands the strength of pincers.
The brass case moved from side to side;
it began to crumble, and drew it forth
and hurled it away from me, mere ball
of shapeless, twisted metal. Then one
of the laughing brutes gave me another
cartridge, and once more l shouldered
the loaded weapon. The mark was
easier now. The struggles of my poor
friend had almost ceased, and, though
the we'll rope still swayed, it's move
ments were comparativ rhythmical
and could be counted upon. l snapped
down the sights, put the butt plate to
my shoulder and cuddled the stock
with my cheek. Here, for the first time,
was a chance for something steadier
than a snap shot. / pressed home the
trigger as the well rope reached one
extremity of it's swing. Again few
loose ends sprang from the rope, and
again the body began slowly to gyrate.
But was it Methuen was firing to save
or was | merely wasting shot to cut
down mass of cold, dead clay?
II think that more agony was COM
pressed for me in few minutes than
I hn
unlocking guerrillas were so stirred
that for the first time their gliding
ceased, and two of them, of their own
accord, handed me cartridges. /
slipped one home and closed the breech
lock. The perspiration was running in
a stream from my chin. Again fired.
Again the wellrope was shipped, and [
coud see the loosened strands ripple out
as snake unwraps itself from a
en-. / missed! Why was / made to be q
murderer like this? Garcia's voice
came to me coldly. Your last chance,
senior. l can be kept waiting here no
longer. And l think you are wasting
time. Your friend seems to have quit
ted US already Another cartridge. /
sank to one knee and rested my left
elbow on the other. The plaza was
hung in breathless silence. Every eye
was strained to see the outcome of the
shot. The men might be inhuman in
their cruelty, but they were human
enough in their curiosity. The body
swung to one end of its swing; [ held
my fire. 1t swung back, and the rifle
muzzle followed. Like some mourn
full pendulum, it passed through the air,
and then glow of certainty filled he
like drink; / knew that | could not
miss that time, and l fired; and the
body, in limp and shapeless heap, fell
to the ground. '-Pearson's Magazine.