The Princeton union. [volume] (Princeton, Minn.) 1876-1976, 1901-07-04

15}4lt over the great camp in the
Wy south The war was almost
at an end for the time. The Arabs
were defeated and driven desertward.
Hostilities irksome. harassing and an
noying, like all guerrilla warfare, would
long continue, but peace was virtually
established, and Zaraila had been the
chief glory that had been added by the
campaign to the flag Of imperial
France. The whole of the army of the
south was drawn up on the immense
level of the plateau to witness the
presentation of the cross of the Legion
of Honor to Cigarette.
It was full noon. The sun shone
without a single cloud on the deep,
sparkling azure of the Skies The
troops stretched east and west, north
and south, formed up in three sides of
one vast massive square. The battal-
ions Of zouaves and Of Zephyrs, the
brigade of Chasseurs d'Afrique, the
squadrons of spahis, the regiments of
tirailleurs and Turcos, the batteries
of flying artillery, were all massed
camps and stations Of the southern
provinces to do honor to the day, to do
honor in especial to one by whom the
glory Of the tricolor had been saved
unstained.
Mounted on her own little bright bay,
Etoile-Filante, with tricolor ribbons
flying from his bride and among the
rJ vi of
one rode among her spahis. A scarlet
cap was on her thick, silken curls, a
tricolor sash was knotted round her
waist, her wine barrel was slung on
her left hip, her pistols thrust in her
belt and light carbine held in her
hand, with the butt end resting on her
foot. With the sun on her childIke,
brunette face, her eyes flashing like
brown diamonds in the light and her
marvellous Craftsmanship, showing it's
skill in hundred desinvoltures and
daring tricks, the little Friend Of the
Flag had come hither among her half
savage warriors, whose red robes sur
rounded her like a sea of blood. They
loved her, these brutes, whose greed
was like the tigers, whose hate was
like the devouring fame, and any who
should have harmed single lock of
her curling hair would have had the
spears of the African Mussulmans bur-
he score in his body. Today
she was to ner wild wolves of Africa
what Jeanne of Vancouleurs was to
her brethren of France, and today was
the crown of her young life. France
had heard the story of Zaraila. From
the throne a message had been passed
to her. What was far beyond all else
to her, her own army of Africa had
crowned her and thanked her and
adored her as with one voice, and
wherever she passed the wild cheers
rang through the roar Of musketry as
through the silence of sunny air, and
throughout the regiments every sword
would have sprung from it's scabbard
in her defense had she but lifted her
hand and said one word-"Zaraila!'
There was not one in all those hosts
whose eyes did not turn on her with
gratitude and reverence and delight in
her as their own.
NOT one, except where her own keen,
rapid glance, farseeing as the hawks,
hghted on the sQuadrons of the Chas-
seurs dAfriQue and found among their
ranks one face, grave, weary, medita-
tlVe' with a haze that seemed looking
Tar away from the glittering scene to
grave that lay unseen leagues beyond
the rocky ridge.
"A Whole army was thinking of her
and OF her alone, and there was void
IN her heart, thorn in her crown, be-
cause one among that mighty mass
one only-gave her presence little heed,
but thought rather of lonely tomb
among the desolation of the plains.
The trumpets sounded; the salvos of
artillery pealed out; the lances and the
swords were carried up in salute, On
to the ground rode the marshal Of
france, who represented the imperial
will and presence, surrounded by his
staff, by generals of division and bri-
gade' by officers of rank and by some
few civilian riders. An aid galloped
up to her here she stooS with the
corps Of her spahis and gave her his
orders. The little one nodded careless
~ and touched Etoile-Filante with the
prick Of the spur. Like lightning the
animal bounded forth from the ranks.
rearing and plunging and swerving
from side to side, while her rider, with
exquisite grace and address, kept her
seat like the little semi-Arab that she
was.
AS carelessly as though she reined up
before the cafe door of the AS du
Pique she arrested her horse before the
great marshal, who was the imperson-
alton of authority, and put her hand up
in the salute, with her saucy maynard
laugh as indiferently as she had many
a time refined up before a knot Of
grim Turcos smoking under a barrack
gate. He was nothing to her. It was
her army that crowned her. 1.-The gen
eralissimo is the poppy head; the men
are the wheat. Lay every ear of the
wheat low, and of what use is the tow