The Black Hills union. [volume] (Rapid City, Pennington County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1889-1904, 1897-07-23
WITHIN AN ICE
CHAPTER XII-CONTINUED.

great WOnueF. III seems Tor some mo-
ments to strike him dumb. When at
length he finds his speech, he STAN
mers forth:
'Lubanotf! Is it possible? Why
it was only yesterday that I heard OF
us recapture! The report then has
been lalse:"'
Not SO. was taken and am free
again. The day before yesterday l lay
in kovno Jail and now l am here!
And now yOu-Who are you" l ask,
consumed with curiosity.
Il am Michael Bakunin!m
AT thef familiar name-the name of
the man l AVE been won't to swear by,
to worship from afar: whose creed 1
had blindly followed since first my
mind formed an idea-an xcess of
intense emotion Overcomes me. In
voluntarily | raise the hand 1 still
hold to my lips as 1 murmur in trem-
bling accents:
MY father: I am proud of this
our in which l may look into thy
facet"
l think OF his six years in the fort
ress OF Peter and Paul: his five years
in the terrible Schlusselburg beneath
the level of the Neva- and that
awful tramp to Siberia in chains!
1t is all written in the white.
drawn face with is twitching muscles.
At my words a smile that is full Of
sweetness plays about his mouth; and
there is a ring OF enthusiasm in his
slngularly mellow voice, as he replies;
Thou makest me ashamed, brother;
Tor, after ali, it is little | have done
TO forward the cause. Thou hast done
more, though | number double thy
years; and right joyful am l to con-
graduate thee on thy escape! In
truth thy experience must have been
unique. Hanged. resuscitatcd, and
God knows what besides! If thou
shouldst ever have a fancy to write
thy autobiography, people will scarcely
credit that hanging episode. l be-
lieved It not myself when | heard OF
1t first in Tamboy, but everywhere l
heard it verified. Then yesterday at
Borlitch the station master told me of
thy recapture near kovno.
What a talk we have after that.
Plying me with eager questions. my
companion CLEANS from me the story
OF my adventures. Only on one point
am l ret cent. that of my s%ojourn
with Maruscha- A strange shyness
makes me dumb on the subject of her
devotion to me. l speak of my
friends, Ivan and Pavel, ard leave
HIM to infer that it was the aid Of the
latter l sought after my escape from
Professor Schleeman's cellar. When
1 come to speak of Yerack my listener
continually interrupts ne with ex-
CARNATIONS.
We'll done, Cossack! Bless the
Cossack! l would he were here that
l might embrace him."
At the scene OF my parting from my
two d~eliverers, | see him furtively
wipe a tear from his cheek.
And now it is my turn to listen with
bated breath to a tale OF horrors so
appalling that at times the blood in
my veins seems to freeze. Surely no
man save Bakunin ever lived to tell
the like! That tramp along the in
terminable highway to Siberia in the
oNAAp"bJ W AOloAo, UAiOoO l11S AGS LII luc
loathsome etapes, what language
could describe?
| am thankful that the train already
begins to slacken speed. and we creep
into a station, so that | may procure
him some brandy. I descend boldly
to the platform and hasten to the re-
treshment room, conscious of no mans
regard save that Of Michael Bakunin.
Under his eyes 1 feel capable of walk
ing into the mouth of a fiery furnace.
l purchase couple of large '.Pirog-
gen. hastily swallow a brandy and
soda, and convey another to my friend
in the carriage. He sips a small
quantity of it and would return me
the glass.
Take it all" I murmur. bending
toward him and pushing the glass
back again to his lips. 1t will cs.srv
thee over the frontier. There IS
nothing like brandy for steadyIng the
nerves."
He obeys me, shuddering after the
draught like a child after a nauseous
dose of medicine. I induce him to
eat a portion of one of the 'Piroggen."
Poor Bakunin, his many long fasts
have made him forget how to make a
good meal. The train has scarcely
regained it's normal speed ere his chin
rests on his breast.
l softly draw the green curtain
over the window to shield him from
the sun, and, leaving him to sleep, l
devote myself to the pasties. Depend