The record-union. [volume] (Sacramento, Calif.) 1891-1903, 1899-03-07
WASSERMAN, KAUFMAN & co.
Last Stand of Troop M.

The little creek, rudely damned for
bathing below camp, was gurgling on
just the same as ever The tall pines
lent their tops as Eolian instruments
to the wind. Thc two horses at the
long stretch of picket line took rest
from the labors of the day herd, but
the knowledge of lowering, CHASTITY
death was in the heart of every trooper
of M of the til.
The dread war chant of the Cniri
chua Apaches rose higher and higher,
the death chant of the gallant handful
of white men camped under the hills
that should be their destruction-a
monotonouS horror of sound.
Just another instance of bureau
cratic ignorance and blindness, and of
Indian treachery-that is ALL Farm
camp" and eScort-the one made for
savages whose last intention it was to
farm, the latter entirely inadequate in
case of outbreak. And SO troop NJ of
the -th armed and silent, was await
ing the oncoming of Geronimos mall
contents, the last chance of retreat
gone, and the chance of any rider
making his way out and to Fort
Apache for reinforcements precluded.
Sanford W. Calhoun, First Lieuten-
ant and Troop Commander-tall, 1.-the.
the handsomest man in his regiment,
the leader of ball and of social wher-
ever he might be quartered-had been
deeply thinking, and had sought relief
in low converse with mis- cosmopolitan
First Sergeant, a man of infinite posi-
bilities and-a past.
Its all up with M of the -th this
time Majendie,' Calhoun said, and
Majendie answered, with a short laugh:
Yes
Calhoun shuddered. The mans blase
recklessness had Jared him before.
And you've nothing to regret, nothing
to hold you to the life we shall quit
no fear?"
Majendie laughed again, with sneer
on his cynical face. No, Lieutenant;
neither regret nor fear. I've drained
life's cup Of nectar, and also her cup
of gall, to the dregs. I've had my good
time and my bad time, and, if the end
is here, I'm ready"
Calhoun sighed II wish I was, Ser
geant but am not LIES sweet. Ser
geant. It's never seemed to sweet as
now, when it's going. You see, I'VE
only tasted the cup, as yet. And it's
good, Sergeant, very, very good-yo1
understands
The Sergeant smiled inscrutably. He
knew why life held SO much for his
commander, pictured to himself the
girl-wife with her first-b born back there
at Fort Grant, and pitied the brave,
selfish man at his side more than her.
Il understand, Lieutenant" he said
then he indicated young trooper close
by-a fair, boyish recruit on his iirst
field duty.
You see young Wilson there, Lieu
tenant?" he went on. We'll, you and
he and 1 represent three distinct types
of manhood. Wilson is one of the
most innocent, pure minded kindly
lads I've ever come in contact with--a
mothers boy. Will he fight for the
life that was never yet his, but hers?
According to all that has been written
in fiction, yes. He says his prayers
regularly, and he reads his Bible, and,
in his own belief, he is ready to stay or
to go, at the Masters will. Lieutenant,
that boy will die with horror and fear
in his eyes-a coward"
Calhoun shuddered again, but asked
the question: And I?''
Majendie smiled, looking at the fine,
clear-cut features of the American aris-
tocrat 1.-THE Lieutenant" he said.
will die like the man know him to be.
bravely; but the bitterness of it all
will seize him and hold him. There
will be resentment in his eyes-a
grudge against fate"
And your