The weekly Thibodaux sentinel and journal of the 8th Senatorial District. [volume] (Thibodaux, Lna. [i.e. La.]) 1875-1898, 1897-06-12
MAXWEIL'S MISSION

Young Maxwell stood BY his impatient
horse, Gro foot in the stirrup, in front
Of the commanding officers tent. His
cheeks were flushed aad his eyes shore
with tie light Of gratifed price.
st kavc chosen you," said the officer,
'sin spite OF your youth, not only be-
cause Of the speed OF your horse and your
own activity and zeal, but because Of
the character you have gained while in
the service of the company. It is not to
every man OF the pioneers [ would trust
200 sovereigns in gold. And look here,
young rlap-Farrel's death ~ fever left
a vacancy among the sergeants. I'll say
no more, except that III the company q
sergeant always stands 9 chance of be
coming a lieutenant. I trust you, Max
well. You understand yoar orders?"
Gross two rivers going due north,
then head fer q big kcrjc wbiah I VII!
see from the bank Of the second river.
There I shall fiud Lieutenant Adair's
camp. get q receipt azd return
Exactly. You Will get there shortly
after nightfall. Remember, You will
have no danger from wandering Mata-
beles, if L~obengula keeps his promise Of
truce until Adair hands him tho money.
AS to any one else, there is not Il soul
in Mashonaland save the Matabeles and
ourselves. ] wouldn't send you alone if
itwere otherwise. TIE real fact is, lean
tell you. there have been desertions and
discomfort lately, al Ii don't want
to risk losing any Incay at the hands
of some man who might be tempted to
ride oil with it,"
The youngest tro0Ter of that aCda-
cious band, who, in iae;gnificant num-
bers, marched 4 few years ago right in
to the country of the mcst dreaded KAT
fir king in South Africa, the ferccious
Lobengula, rode OF on bis mission with
a glad and proud heart. This was his
chance, but he felt he had earned it,
and as his horse bounded through the
long grass and breasted The waters Of
the rivers Maxweli's imagination was
picturing Z glorious future Of which
that day should be tie beginning. There
was scope indeed for dreams. gazing on
that rich and m~easureless veldt, which
could fatten countless herds, which
could yield incalculable stores of grain,
whose river beds were sanded with gold.
Another India? Another Give? Who
shall read the dreams Of youth?
So feetly sped lis horse that the mes
senger had crossed the first river and
was in sight of the second, beyond
which he could already see the kopje
or hill, which WAS his destination be-
fore the sun quite disappeared on the
western rim Of the veIGt. 1t was, how
ever, darkening, and the kopje was
merging swiftly into the gray shadows
of evening, when suddenly from the
tall grass to his right came a loud call.
1t was not the neaTness Of the voice,
though that was startlingly close, that
brought Maxwell to a sharp halt. It
was the fact that it vas a civilized
voice, as distinctly ~discornible from a
Kaffir Cry as could lie. ard 4 voice also
that seemed in distress.
"Wacht cen beetie!" WAT IA Iittle).
It twas the cry Of q Dut1tlalan, 4 Boer,
and it amazed the courier 50 that he
reined in his horse. What, he thought,
could a Boer be doing alone in that
wild land. hundreds CT miles from his
Transvaal settlement? At any rate. if
he needed help
"Wacht cen bectjer' came tie call
again, but sharply, conamandinsly.
From the grass, high as a mans head,
came a denser shadow than of any feet
ing cloud and the beat of d horses
hoofs. Maxwell, in the dusk, saw only
the vague outlines of a rider swiftly ap-
preaching. Suddenly something gleam-
ed in a parting ray of the sun, and the
pioneer realized that a long rifle was
pointing at him. With a cry not of
fear, but of anger at having been de-
ceiyed by that first call for help, the
youth whipped his revolver from its
holster and fired at the still shadowy
horseman. At the same instant he