The Somerset reporter. [volume] (Skowhegan, Me.) 1868-1909, 1899-06-08

fiery blast that swept into their faces
with sudden fury The air seemed in
stinct with leaden life, and volley after
volley pealed forth from the deadly
rifles
For one awful moment the men fall
tered Groans of agony and hoarse com
mands mingled. and all around Ameri-
can soldiers lay down to die. But the
check was only momentary, and on into
the jaws of death the column went
Every man leaned forward as though
breathing heavy wind. From right,
left and front they felt the pounding OF
the enemy guns. and shrapnel swept
through the ranks like hail.
On the summit of the hill the block
house swarmed with the foe, dimly seen
through putting lines of smoke from our
guns The Spanish were intrencbed-
Americans in the open. But never
mind Forward And soon the foreign
foe was driven back and the stronghold
captured
Half way down the slope as the vic
tors pursued the flying enemy, with
ering blast of Mauser bullets swept
across the open ground, and the boy
who now lay dying in the open space
in the tall grass fell forward with a ball
in his thigh A comrade ran to his as
sistance. and made his way painful
Iy to the rear, but as he passed along
another Spanish bullet struck him in
the right arm, and presently he was
wounded in the left. Then his day of
battle was done, and the black hours of
uncousciousness followed.
When reason returned the sounds of
battle had ceased, and he wondered
where his comrades were. Were they
all dead? Would they search for him
He was alive but he knew that death
would come in few short hours How
hot the sun beat down How still ev
eIything seemed TO him-no whizzing
of bullets in the air, nor shrek of
screaming shell, nor the yell of charg
ing troops nothing but the silence of
an ocean of grass. There was the dead
Cuban lying at his feet-a CHASTITY
bunch of mortality. How big and black
he was His eyes were staring at him
like balls of glass What were they
staring at him for The night was com
ing on apace-would he have to lie III
the tall grass until the morrow? He
could not tell And then the dark cloud
again settled o'er his senses and it was
hours before the light came into his
soul.
Death 5 door Is mirror and the dy-
ing have good memories. When con
seriousness returned the boys mind
went back to his home He wondered if
all was well on the old farm, where he
and his mother and brother had lived in
peace until the war with Spain called
him to the front. He had a letter in his
pocket from home-he would read it
again. But. alas he could not reach
his pocket-both arms were disabled
and in the inky darkness he could not
see.
How long since had he left home
Three months only three months And
now he lay dying in his young man
hood. He remembered the morning that
he left his home The birds were sing
ing and nature was at her best. The
fields were clothed i'll green and the
brook softly murmured over the pebbles
at the bottom He had donned his new
uniform, and he felt little sharp pang
as he left his home. He remembered it
all very well
"Goodby, Bill " he had said to his
brother Take good care of mother. "
Look ont for Spanish bullets and
bring back a machete " said Bill.
"I'm off, mother. =
"Goodhy. my son Be brave and serve
your country like a man" Then she
embraced and kissed him, and the part
ing was over.
The old house cat rubbed against him
and purred as if to bid him godspeed
His faithful old dog followed him down
the lane, but with stern words his mas
ter drove him back. At the edge of the
town a blue eyed, fair haired girl stood
at the gate Are you really going to
fight the Spanish, john
eyes, Helen, and have come to say
goOdby " There was then a hasty kiss,
warm pressure of hands. and thus he
left home
Everything was so hushed and dark
now Was the whole world dead? Why
was he lying helpless here? How had it
happened Then he remembered-the
furious charge across the open field, up
the hill and over the crest in the face of
a rain of Spanish bullets. The air hum
med and whstled. From the trenches
and blockhouses the Mausers spit at
them Then the blow came to him. 1t
was a terrible shock. 1t seemed to lift
him from his feet and double him mp
and pitch him forward; then the pain
full journey to the rear two more bullet
wounds and then uneonsciousness.
Now he was dying in the darkness
How strange it all was That dead Gu
ban-how black he looked, and how his
eyes glaredl There was a tiny hole i'll
his forehead where life had leaped
through Some one was crying for wa
ter Was it himself? He could not tell
The night was getting cold, and the
heavy dew made the tall grass soggy
There were no stars TO watch him.
Would nobody help him. Hark That
was his dog bowling, and how loud it
was
How weak and dizzy be felt.
"Goodby. Bill .
He could not see. Everything was
growing dim
Farewell. mother Helen -