Santa Fe daily New Mexican. [volume] (Santa Fe, N.M.) 1885-1897, 1897-03-11

q
down an avalanche of men. No one
knew that during this time the old lady
had been standing in her nightclothes
at the bedroom door yelling: whats
tn matter? What's TIL matter? What's
tn matter9"
When they dashed toward the barn,
it presented to their eyes its usual APP
pearance-.solemn, rather mystic in the
black night. The Swedes lantern was
overturned at point some yards from
in front of the barn doors. IL contained
wild little confiagration of its own,
and even in their excitement some Of
those who ran felt gentle secondary
vibration of the thrifty part Of their
minds at sight Of this overturned lam
tern. Under ordinary circumstances it
would have been calamity.
But the cattle in the barn were
trampling, trampling, trampling, and
above this noise could be heard a hum
ming like the song Of innumerable bees.
The old man hurled aside the great
doors, and yellow fame leaped out at
one corner and sped and sped and waver
ed frantically up the old gray wall. 1t
was glad, terrible, this single fame,
like the wild banner Of deadly and tri-
umphant foes.
The motley crowd from the garnet
had come with all the pals of the farm.
They flung themselves upon the well. 1t
was leisurely old machine, long dwell
ing in Incidence 1t was in the habit Of
giving out water with sort Of reluc-
lance. The men stormed at it, cursed
it, but it continued to allow the buckets
to DO filled only after the wheezy wind
lass had bowled many protests at the
mad handed men.
With his open knife in his hand, old
Fleming himself had gone headlong into
the barn, where the sitting smoke
swirled with the air currents, and
where could be heard in its fullness the
terrible chorus Of the flames laden with
tones Of hate and death, a hymn Of
wonderful ferocity.
He flung blanket over an old mares
head, cut the halter close to the manager,
led the mare to the door and fairly kick
ed her out to safety. He returned with
the same blanket and rescued one Of tho
work horses. He took five horses out
and then came out himself with his
clothes bravely on fire. He had no whisk-
ers and very little hair on his head.
They soused five pailfuls of water on
him. His eldest son made clean miss
with the sixth pailful because the old
man had turned and was running down
the decline and around to the basement
of tile barn, where were the stanchions
of cows Some one noticed at the time
that he ran very lamcly, as if one of tho
frenzied horses had smashed his hip
The COWS. with their heads held in
the heavy stanchions, had thrown them
selves, strangled themselves, tangled
themselves-donee everything which the
ingenuity of their exuberant fear could
suggest to them.
Here, as at the well, the same thing
happened to every man save one. Their
hands went mad They became incapa
BILE of everything save the power to rush
into dangerous situations.
The old man released the COW nearest
the door, and she, blind drunk with
terror, crashed into the Swede The
Swede had been running to and fro.
babbling. He carried an empty milk
pail, to which he chung with an uncon-
scious fierce enthusiasm. He shrieked
| like one lost as he went under the COW S
hoofs, and the milk pail, rolling across
the floor, made flash Of silver in the
gloom.
Old Fleming took fork, beat off the
COW and dragged the paralyzed Swede
| to the open air. When they had rescued
all the cows save one, which had so
fastened herself that she could not be
moved an inch, they returned to the
front of the barn and stood sadly, breath
ing like men who had reached the final
point Of human effort.
Many people had come running. Some
one had even gone to the church, and
now, from the distance, rang the tocsin
note of the old bell. There was long
fare Of crimson on the sky, which made
remote people speculate as to the where
abouts Of the fire.
The long flames sang their drumming
chorus in voices of the heaviest bass,
The wind whirled clouds Of smoke and
cinders into the faces Of the spectators.
The form of the old barn was outlined
in black amid these masses Of orange
hued flames.
And then came this Swede again,
crying as one who is the weapon Of the
sinister fates: ''De colts! De colts! You
have forgot de colts!"
Old Fleming staggered. 1t was true
they had forgotten the two colts in the
box stalls at the back Of the barn.
"Boys." he said, Unjust try to get 'em
OUT" They clamored about him then,
afraid for him, afraid of what they
should see. Then they talked wildly
each to each. "Why, it's sure death''
"He would never get out!" "Why, it's
suicide for man to 60 in there!" Old
Fleming stared absentmindedly at the
open doors. "The poor little things, -
he said. He rushed into the barn.
When the roof fell in, great funnel
Of smoke swarmed toward the sky as if
the old mans mighty spirit, released
from it's body-a little bottle-had
swelled like the genius Of fable. The
smoke was tinted rose hue from the
flames, and perhaps the unutterable mid.
nights Of the universe will have nc
power to daunt the color Of this soul.
Stephen Crane in st. James Budget.
A Budding Philosopher.
"Say, paw, is it anything to brag
about when you don't do something
| vov, oou,% 1rVSt