The L'Anse sentinel. (L'Anse, L.S., Mich.) 18??-current, 1900-09-29
CASHIERED.
BY Andrew Balfour.
TIL lieutenant was but boy, a


product of the English public
school and of Sandhurst, with an in
cipient mustache and face which
six months before had been fresh and
rudy as fox hunters at Christmas
tide. But the dreaded west coast had
done its work, in part at least; and
it was haggard, weary, yellow Wis
age which, with pair of field glasses,
swept the dull green fringe of the re-
lentless bush, and then turned to the
little garrison. The lieutenant gave
an order. pointed with his niger, and
from a loophole in the stockade came
a flash, a sharp report. AS if in an
swer to :. summons, n black shape
sprang up from the edge of the for
est cover, screamed wildly, and with
convulsive twitchings pitched out
into the open, rolled over and over,
and lay still.
Ready, lads" sang out their Off
Ger; and the men of the frontier po-
lice prepared to do as they had done
every day and many a night for the
past six weeks.
They were a dusky lot, in ragged
uniforms, with cheek bones which
told a tale of want of food, parched
lips which were evidence of the mud
dy. brackish water that could scarce
~ moisten them and yet was all their
comfort, and fierce, wild eyes which
spoke to wakeful nights and dread
uncertainty. Day and night, night
and day. had they watched and fought
and suffered, and still the old flag
dropped idly from its post in the
simmering heat, and still they waited
for relief with hope which waned
within them.
The lieutenant looked to his re-
volver. and with fingers which trem.
bled little rolled thin cigarette
and tried hard to muster up n CHEEKY
smile. 1t was sorry attempt, for his
nerves were giving way, and there
was that in his blood which saps al
joviality and makes the liver in very
truth seat of melancholy. There
had been little loss in men, for the
stockade was strong and high, and
lead-coated stones and pot-legs
though ugly missiles, are none toe
efficient as regards the searching oil
loopholes at 80 and 100 yards; but to
the lieutenant the scorching suns
rays, the empty stomach, tie dry and
burning throat the want of sleep
and the utter loneliness were as bad
nay, worse-than the loss of half q
dozen black fellows, faithful to the
death though these might be.
1t was his first experience of war
and there was no glory in the bust
ness. If he failed, few would evel
learn that Fort Mutt had held out to
the bitter end against terrible odds
and fewer still would care. Men.
minds were busy elsewhere, for TIL,
west coast was not all Africa, ant
trouble was brewing with men of an
other color and another cline. Fol
all that, the lieutenant had done hi.
duty, and much more than he mag
lined, for many things unknown tc
him de pended on the safety of hi,
outpost.
Here they comet" he cried sud
denly, and from every quarter of tn,
encircling forest darted white puffs o
smoke, and noises innumerable filled
the air--the sharp rine crack, tn,
heavy boom of the elephant gun, tn,
bang, bang, of flintlock musgets, ant
then the battle yell of savage foe
There was no answer from Fort Mutt
It's defenders could not afford Il
waste powder on the scrub; but nov
came the rush. A horde of savages
their hair frizzed out into fantasti,
patterns, their bodies naked save fol
the loin cloth, bounded into the opeI
and raced towards the palisades.
"Give it them, men!" yelled tn,
lieutenant, and they got it. 1t wa
the old Martini which served tn,
black police, and the Martini bulle
has driving power. At such range
in such mass of humanity, eacl
leaden messenger found a plethor'
of billets both temporary and perma
nent, and the ASSISTANTS found thing