The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1901-09-22
THE ADULTERESS
GO r X /.

This is no fiction-more's the pity.
I witnessed the scene of horror and saw
ageness here described in the village of
Kandybowka, government of Cherson, Rus
STA, on July 10, 1901. It's a twentieth CEN
tury tragedy-more's the pity, 1 repeat.
Xxx
In the village street. past the dust-cov-
cred huts, a processionl Slowly it moves
along, this peculiar procession. attended
by howls and frantic yells and c~atcalls.
After ii, like a great wave. the people
stream and surge over the highway. AT
the head walks a little horse, and a COM
ically WORKOUT jade he is. His head is
bent as if in sorrow. When he raises one
of his forelegs his chin sinks down still
lower, as if the mouth was to lick the
dust. When he raises another leg his
hind quarters tremble and come down-the
sorry brute looks as if ne would fall over
and expire at any moment.
At his side, and like him chained to the
thill pole, ambles a woman with uncertain
step. A woman? No, a girl rather. She is
small, sparsely developed, and entirely
naked.
Her head, wreathed by masses of thick,
dark blond. disheveled hair, is held high
and thrown back; her wide-open eyes stare
into space with a look that has nothing
human in it. Her body is a mass of blue
and black n red and yellow stains and
blotches, of round and oval welts, knots
and Jumps; the left breast is cut in sew
eral places, and blood trickles from the
wounds marking her path. The blood
has made a reddish stain running from
the heart across the body and down the
left leg TO the knee; blood has also accu-
mulated on the top of the foot. but there
merciful dust hides humanity's disgrace.
1t looks as if some vandal, some bully
rough risen from a medieval torture cham
Der, had begun to fay this poor little body,
but had sickened at the task after tearing
off one strip of Guivering skin. Still, mercy
was only a spasmodic dweller in his black
soul. Dropping the knife, he seized a
knout to work off his fury on Gods own
likeness.
The girl can't nave been an ordinary
peasant woman, born and bred in poverty,
fusil and degradation, for her feet are small
and slender. They do not seem 20 touch
the ground; there is, indeed, no visible
support to her swaying, bleeding body,
Gods will alone holds it up, 1 think, saves
it from falling and dragging along the
dusty, sunburnt ground, a prey to stones
and wheels.
x
The driver is a tall, stalwart peasant In
a white blouse and black sheepskin cap, al
lowing portions of his red, straight hair to
escape.
His left hand holds the reins, in his right
he swings a terrible scourgc. Hide thy
face, humanity, beloved Christ, didst Thou
Gle for a beast like this?
The woman-born brute Iashes alternately
horse and woman, front or back, launches
or head-it's all the same to him. He acts
methodically, machine-like. a buzz saw
l warrant you. harbors finer %sensibilities
in its heart Of hearts, if we could only read
in it!
The eyes of the red-haired peasant are
blood-shot; they sparkle with mischief
cruelty and triumph. The eyes are green,
and their color is intensified by the red OF
his hair. His blouse sleeves are rolled up
leaving his strong. muscular arms free
the arms of a gorilla, thickly covered
with short, red hair. The peasants mouth
is wide open, showing long, yellow. SHARP
canine teeth. Every little while he cries
in a hoarse voice:
Get UP, witch that thou art, Faster
don't be all day about it. We must finish
our twenty miles before dusk. All, this
(meaning a stroke of the Whip was q