The Anderson intelligencer. [volume] (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, 1899-09-13

s....A..-..A.."..A.."..A.."..A.."..A.."'.A.'.*:::
! The Three ViSitationS. :
Ry AuEuste vitu. ::
!: A sold.er's Friendship That Lasted I:
: Beyond the Grave. ,
observation-disclosures
In the month Of August, 1S45, a col
umn Of French soldiers, composed OF
African chasseurs, spahis and q few
battalions Of infantry. crossed the
beautiful valley filed with orange trees
and agaves that lies at the foot OF
Diebel-Ammer, one Of the principal
chains OF the Atlas.
AS the troops gradually drew near to
Diebel-Ammer the soil, hitherto rich
and carpeted with vegetation, grew
sandy and barren. The orange trees
were replaced by horrible cactuses and
lentisks. To right and left rose masses
OF black and blue rocks, like monstrous
Japanese vases, whence sprung huge
cactuses, with leaves as jagged as the
claws of some giant crab. The dry
heath sh1ddered In the breeze, giving
forth an uncanny cracking. The pale
rays from the rising stars cast the
shadows Of men and horses in long,
dim silhouettes. Jackals were bowling
far away; great birds whirled through
the air, uttering piercing cries. You
could hear the horses plunging heavily
through the sand, soaked by a recent
rain. From time to time you caught q
sharp click-a rife being cooked be-
cause big bunch Of grass had moved
or because q stone had rolled down a
bank. Naturally enough, since in Africa
behind every tumbling stone. every
rustling bough, an enemy is ambushed.
The courageous officer in command.
General Etienne vergamier, was q
man in his prime-not much beyond
40. With his imposing stature, his
broad shoulders, his gentle eyes, his
open brow and winning smile, he could
have served as model for northern
hero, a son Of Ossian and Of Fingal,
who might fight and die chanting a
heroic strain. Major Banis, his COM
panion, was al cold, methodical man,
but, withal, man Of great intelligence
and wide scholarship.
Vergamier had spurred his horse to a
trot and kept silence for time. The
major respected his reverie; but finally
yielding to the curiosity that his inti-
mate acquaintance with the general
warranted he began:
':We have long ride ahead Of US,
the road is growing more and more
stony. we'll have to check our pace
more and more. General, tell me about
the event that you referred to few
moments back. Isn't it just the hour
for ghost stories?'
what's the good, major? You won't
believe ME-"
II believe in all sensations. may
merely take the liberty of discussing
the principles you base yours on"
You are going to thrust your phys
iologist's scalpel into my hearts most
secret chamber. Yet, although it is
an effort, will yield to your request.
I beg Of you, don't laugh. All that /
am about to relate is serious" The
general began:
AT 20 left st. Cyr along with my
best friend, Georges de Mancel, a
charming, fellow-fair, pale, slight, as
dreamy as q poet, as strong as a
Kabyle, as brave as lion. We had
known each other from the first at st.
Cyr. In the midst Of the brutal quar-
reIs renewed daily by barbarous ira
ditions he had often taken my defense
and had stood up for me as l did for
him. We were sincerely attached to
each other and bitterly regretted the
coming separation made necessary by
our entrance into the service.
But we were luckier than we had
hoped, for we met again at the capture
Of the Fort Empereur, both Of US en-
signs, full Of hope and reveling In the
war. A few days later Algiers fell un-
der our assault. Georges was one Of the
first to enter the city. saw him drop,
struck by bullet in the left breast. I
raised him and carried him on my
shoulders to little house deserted at
the first cannonade. / laid him down
in woman's bedroom-cool, scented,
voluptuous. The bed was not made.
I placed my poor Georges in 1t and
stanched the blood as best could. 1t
was hopeless; the agony began. Weak
ened by the loss Of blood, he could
hardly raise his head to look at me
once more; he held one Of my hands in
his and pressed it convulsively when
the pain became unbearable. Yet ut in
tervals he had few moments respite.
"Etienne," he said to me, II am dy-
ing very young, and / regret life. for
with your friendship it was sweet to
me. We are about to part, but who
knows whether it is forever. No one
can say what awaits us beyond the
tomb-perhaps further suffering, per-
llaps happiness or nothingness But il
my soul is immortal il it retains In un-
known regions the affections and mem
ories that filled it during its sojOurn
on earth, God be praised! And if it be
true that we shall see once more those
whom we have loved tenderly, be sure,