The age-herald., 1898-07-17

Oh J U l. | ] 1oJo,
 covers the molding bones of confederate
 officer who sleeps on the magnolia-petaled
 uplands of Louisiana is an inscription:
 He never told his men to go on." That
 will do for Lawton when he dies.
 
 He is six feet three inches high. He
 weighs 2lO pounds, and nearly every ounce of it is bone and blood and tendon and
 muscle. He is 5 years old and as springy
 as youth. His capacity to go without
 food, drink. or sleep is seemingly unlimited.
 "Maeumazahn," the zulus called Quater-
 main-"the one who has his eyes open."
 Maeumazahn Lawton will keep them open
 for a weee1 at a stretch, when necessary,
 and then walk, talk, eat drink, or fight
 dozen men to a standstill He. has lived
 a life of peril and hardship. His only rule
 of hygiene is tub in the morning. He has taken no sort of care of himself Yet
 so splendidly was he endowed by nature
 that there is no perceptible weakening of ms forces. Apparently he is as powerful and enduring when I saw him first.
 That was more than ten years ago. He
 had completeed one of the most remarka-
 ble feats of strength and perseverance
 chrenicled in the long annals of the Anglo
 Saxon race, but he was as fresh as a rose in the morning.
 He stood on thee government reservation at San Antonio surrounded by the tawny savage band of Chrcahua Apaehes, whom he had hunted off their feet. Near him, taciturn but of kindly visage, stood young Chief Naches, almost as tall as he. In tent close by lay Geronimo. the medicine men, grooming from a surplusage of fresh beef eaten raw. The squat figures of the hereditary enemies of the whites grouped about him came only to his shoulder. He lowered among them, stern, powerful, dominant-an incarnation of the spirit of the White Man, whose war drum has beat | around the world. Glad in faded, dirty fatigue jacket. greasy flannel shirt of gray. trousers so soiled that the stripe down the leg was barely visible broken boots and a disreputable sombrero that shaded the harsh features burned almost to blackness. he was every inch a soldier and a man. To the other officers at the post the Indians paid sort of attention. To them General Stanley and his staff were so many well-dressed lay figures, standing about part of picture done for their amusement, but the huge, mass i've man with the stubble on his chin had shown them that he was their superior on hunting grounds that were theirs by brth- right, and they hung upon his lghtest word.
 For the tenth time Geronimo's band had jumped the San Carlos reservation The spring grass was two inches high and the
 Indian lust for blood awake. As usu- al troops were started upon a perilous chase. For days they followed the trail
 over country that God Almighty made in wrath Farther and farther into the vast solitudes they toiied. Volcanic creSts rear ed about them. Lava tore the leather from their feet. They drank from springs that gushed thousands of feet above the valleys. They wandered in canonS so deep and dark that through the narrow ribbon of white far above them the stars were seen at midday. They lived upon
 animals no wilder than the men they were pursuing and scarcely more wild than they. Now and then, from forest of pines far above them, shred of blue smoke drifted on the furnace air. followed by the shrill of the bullets wild singing. The horses long since had been left behind The cavalrymen were on foot with Law ton at their head, his teeth hard set. "We'll walk them down." he told his sergeant when the mountains were reached. He was walking them down.
 Six weeks. afterward an Indian, whose bones seemed ready to start through his
 slSin came to the camp and said that Ger oniTno ready to surrender. Lawton
 went alone to the lair of the starving
 wolves and received their submission.
 Cavernous eyes glared at him. Lips black from thirst and hunger were drawn back
 over discolored teeth. Skeleton fingers
 pointed at him. From skeleton jaws came
 sounds of pleadings mixed with wrath.
 The poison of bitter racial hatred was in
 every glance. "Even the rocks smelled like mad Indian" he told me with a laugh long afterward He launged among them, their master by virtue of superior courage
 and strength and hardihood, and they followed him like sheep to food and im- prisonment That is the story in outline of the capture of Geronimo, physician, wiz
 gard, conjurer, orator and murderer. The man Of Fl Caney is the man Of the Mogallons, and the man of the Mogal- Ions is the reincarnation of some shining, helmeted giant warrior who fell upon the sands of Palestine in the first crusade, with the red blood yelling over his corselet and his two-handed battle-sword shivered to the hilt. The race-type persists unchanged in eye, in profile, in figure. It is the race which in all the centuries the Valkyrs have
 waited from the war-decks, have hailed from the holmgangs or helmet-strewn moorlands-the whte-skinned race, which drunk with the liquor of battle, reeled around the dragon standard at Senlac,
 which fought with Richard Grenville,
 which broke the Old Guard at Waterloo,
 which rode up the slope at Balaklava,
 which went down with the Cumberland
 in Hampton Roads, which charged with
 Pickett at Gettysburg-the race of the
 trader the financier, the statesman, the
 inventor the colonizer, the creator but,
 before all, the fighter.