Rock Island Argus. (Rock Island, Ill.) 1893-1920, 1900-06-28

OF ESn. VINO STOOD Ilelr ground as pine
4 trees stand on their mountain sides In
bonny Scotland. Then out on the At
| rican air there rang a voice, proud,
! clear and high as clarion note, Fix
| bayonets, Gordons"
Like lightning the strong hands grip
! ped the ready steel; the bayonets went
home to the barrel as the lips of lover
! to lover. Rifles spoke from the Boer
! lines, and men reeled a pace from the
| British and fell and lay where they
fell. Again that voice with the Scot
I ish bur on every note: Charge, Cor
/ dons, Charge" And the dauntless
! Scotchmen rushed on at the head OF
| his fiery few.
The Beers heart Is a brave heart,
| and he who calls them towards lies,
but never before had they faced so
grim charge. never before had they
seen a torrent OF steel advancing on
their lines in front of a tornado of
flesh and blood. On rushed the Scots,
on over fallen comrades, on over rocks
and clefts, on to the ranks of the foe
| and onward through them, sweeping
them down as l have seen wild horses
sweep through a field of ripening corn.
1ut OIlelS dS lhCS
through breastbone and backbone.
Vainly the Boer dubbed his rife and
smote back As well might the wild
goat strike with puny hoofs when the
tiger springs. Nothing could stay the
fury OF that desperate rush. Do you
sneer at the Beers? Then sneer at half
the armies of Europe, for never yet
have Scotland's sons been driven back
when once they reached foe to smite.
How do they charge, those bare
legged sons of Scotia? Go ask the hills
of Afghanistan, and il there be tongues
within them they will tell you that
they sweep like hosts from hell. Ask
in sneering Paris, and the red records
Of Waterloo will give you answer. Ask
IN St Petersburg, and from Sevastopol
your answer will come. They thought
OF the dreary morning hours of
Magersfontein, and they smote the
steel downward through the neck into
the liver. They thought of the row
of comrades in the graves beside the
Modder. and they gave the Beers the
'haymaker's lift and tossed the dead
body behind them. They thought Of
gallant Wauchope riddled with lead,
horrible crash. through skull and brain,
leaving the face thing to make fiends
shudder. They thought of Scotland,
and they sent the wild slogan of their
clan re-echoing through the gullies of
the African hills until their comrades
far away along the line, hearing it,
turned to one another, saying: God
help the Beers this hour, Our Jocks
are into 'em with the bay'nit"
But, when they turned to gather up
those who had fallen, then they found
that he whose lion soul had pointed
them the crimson path to duty was
to lead them no more. The noble heart
that beat so true to honor's highest
notes was not stilled, but a bullet,
missing the brain, had closed his eyes
forever to Gods sunlight, leaving him
to go through life in darkness, and
they mourned for him as they had
mourned for noble, white souled
Wauchope, whose prototype he was.
They knew that many a long, long
year would roll away before their eyes
would rest upon his like again in camp
or bloody field. But it gladdened their
stern warrior hearts to know that the
last sight he ever Gazed upon was
Scotland sweeping on her foes.
And when our noble queen shall
place upon his breast the cross which
is the soldiers diadem their hearts
will throb in unison with his, for their
strong hands on that May day helped
him win what he is so fit to wear, and
when our sovereign honors him she
honors them. and well they know it,
And when the years have rolled away
and they are old and gray and spent
with wounds and toll. fit for nothing
but to dandlc little grandbabes on their
knees, young men and maids will flock
around and, pointing out the veteran
to the curious stranger, say with hon.
est pride. He was with Towse the day
he won the Cross