The Beaver herald. [volume] (Beaver, O.T. [Okla.]) 1895-1923, 1899-01-05

bloody bush let go be the roots. ar he
wint down. All. don't faint away,
missi II was a child's tumble, only
for the jar II gev his arrum; IL shtarted
the wound bleedin' on him, an that tux
his stren't'; and | think IL was bad for
him goin' widout a hat. Yis, the fool
wind TUX IL aff his head, an he but the
wan hand to grab for II, an kape his
grip O. the rock; an it's hung up in the
top NV n big pine-tree. ! was for maxim
him wear me own hat. for the sun IL
was powerful bad on his head; but he'd
cast IL in me face wheniver I'd try to
put it on him-he was that silly. He
was singin' like canary in the boat,
comm down, till ] put the coat over
him. an that quinched him. Was he
quit, miss, when ye left him?"
Faith could not speak to answer
him.
saints abovel now what are We cry
in about? D. We think the lad II not
make It? Sure, here we are, an the
boat comm in. an Spokane. the city of
refuge. will see us in the mornin.' He
has wore out the candle;' he can 'bide
the inchr"
30 Mike, but it's the last inch Of the
candle that will cost" cried Faith; and
forth from her convulsed lips came the
ehild's story, too long delayed, OF the
dark deed that threatened the prisoners
at the Mission that night.
Mike leaped as If he had been hit by a
bullet.
"Why wasn't this the first word We
said to me?" he roared. go bnck and
bide beside him willis. go for thesboot.
Please God no wan has helped himself
to it, an me danderin' here!"
"Do you believe it?" Faith exclaimed,
in voice of awe.
"Do ] believe there's devils in hell?
I'll pack him out av this, il have to
shwim wild him on me back"
" Darcie was asleep. He rested. after
pain, and excitement, and thirst, and
weary journeyings. Faith watched be-
side him and listened to his mutterings,
and held her own breath in pauses of
his inconstant breathing. Sometimes he
painted "like dog that hunts in
Dreams" his features twitched, he
plucked with his hands; then his
troubled spirit would exhale in long
sigh. and gradually, in climbing in
tensity, the travail of delirium would
resume its sway. His eyes glittered be-
tween half-parted lids; the yellow
green light under the trees, mingling
with the reflection from the river,
made his ashen color ghastly. Faith
hung upon his breathing, hurried and
fast or deep and slow, as the one sure
contradiction of his death-like aspect.
The strange wind which brought no
rain kept blowing and blowing, as If it
would blow out all the last red sparks
of sunlight. Her hopes went out with
them. The dull sunset embers began to
glow. She could hear no sounds but of
wind striving with the trees, or water
heavily tapping as it coursed along the
bank. She wished for utter stiffness
that she might project, by ear, her
knowledge of what was coming, beyond
her powers of sight, but nothing could
be heard above the crisp, gallant roar
and rustic of the summer gale. All ma
ture seemed to call to her to be up and
ready! to fly, fly! But those that can
neither fight nor fly, must hide. must
hush, as she was hushing her sleeper
by the darkling stream.
She sat in silence, and her thoughts
drifted in trite phrases, and in frag-
ments of old songs, as unguided wheels
slip into old ruts of the way that the
crazeo or grief-blind driver goes.
"oh. hush thee. my baby; the hour may
| come
When thy sleep shall be broken by trumpe,
and drum"
she found herself grooming over and
over senselessly to herself; but where
were the trumpets and drums, that
call to arms in the name of peace---the
law and order music? Far from the old
Mission that night, and its dark, empty
sanctuary, and it's helpless prisoners
of labor, waiting as unconscious as
sheep that have been fed and folded at
dusk to be harried at midnight by q
pack of masterless dogs!
At about half after seven o'clock, as
the story of this evening goes, hand.
car, black with men, came down the
| IL ~ ,