Audubon Republican. [volume] (Audubon, Iowa) 1894-1925, 1901-01-24

Feather was a quiet and inoffensive
fellow, devoid of the impudence and
bad manners peculiar to recruits and
respectful and helpful to his seniors.
The sergeant instructor, too, after a
time took fancy to his timid recruit,
and took extra trouble to teach him
how to keep his heels out, his Lands
down and his head up.
I've made smart cavalrymen out o
bigger buffers than you" he used to
remark encouragingly as he fiicked
White Feathers horse into canter,
"and I'll make rider o you, or I'll
break your neck!" White Feathers
neck remained unbroken so it is to be
presumed that the sergeant instructor
fulfilled his word.
Presently he began to lose the hang
dog look Of suppressed terror with
which he had been accustomed to en-
ter the riding school and to acquire
the easy swagger Of a cavalryman. His
chest, contracted by long hours at the
counter, developed under healthy train
ing. Fresh air and much exercise
helped White Feathers development,
which had been sadly retarded by the
heavy, gas-laden atmosphere in which
he had lived. His nerves acquired tone,
and he learned to take tumble now
and then as a matter Of course and to
fire his carbine without shutting his
eyes and blanching at the explosion OF
the cartridge.
BLOW me, IL he isn't going to shape
into a man at last!" Quoth the ser
geant instructor.
Then great blow fell upon him. He
| received one morning letter from
the girl to tell him that she had given
him up in favor of shopwalker who
had expectations of being set up in
business by his father. She admitted
that she had adored soldiers and that
she had caused him to enter the
army for her sake. But she had
omitted to state that the soldiers she
adored were soldiers who possessed the
Queens commission and who wore
stars instead OF worsted stripe.
II poor White Feather was a physi-
| Ndl CNWdlu, "d5 u ulOI al htIO.
is no chance Of a display of feeling in
barrack room so. like the Spartan
boy of old, he Rugged his trouble to
him, slipping the cheap little engage
ment ring with which he had sealed
his troth into his pocket without a
sign beyond the twitching of his white
lips. Then he lit his pipe with the
letter, not out of contempt, but because
there is little privacy accorded in the
correspondence that comes to the bar
rack room, and private soldier is not
provided with desk wherein to keep
his faded flowers and other sentimen-
tai tokens of the past.
The blow was a very heavy one, for
White Feather was without the world
ly knowledge that should have told
him long since that he had fixed his
affections upon a vulgar, selfish and
brainless fiirt, and he still believed in
her.
| For her sake he had learned to over
come his physical cowardice. He had
dreamed of a possible commission in
the dim future and had rejoiced in the
recently acquired promotion as a step
toward her.
For her sake. too. he received the
news cheerfully when the word passed
through the barracks that the regi-
ment was ordered to South Africa to
meet the Beers. He knew that he was
by nature a coward, but for the men,
ory Of her he swore an oath to him
self to do his duty without sparing
himself In the coming fight.
| Look ERE, old chap, we Amt going
to call you White Feather no more!"
said Trumpeter Pipes as they lay to-
gether behind the shelter of a large
bowlder, against the face Of which the
Boer bullets were pattering like q
heavy rain.
In full sight Of the whole army their
squadron had crossed the Boer front
amid a hail Of bullets which had
brought 20 men to earth.
White Feathers horse had been shot
under him, and, at the risk of his life,
he had carried the wounded trumpeter
into the shelter of the powders. He
was unhurt, but trembled in every limb
from fear and great exertion.
| From between two powders he
peeped out and saw, amid the bodies
OF men and horses that Uttered the
plain, wounded man crawling on his
hands and knees amid a spatter of
bullets that were kicking puffs Of dust
from the dry earth all around him.
1t was his captain.
| White Feather watched him for
moment; then he saw him stop and
lie down on his side despairingly. He
could crawl no more.
81 will, for her sake," He murmured
between his clenched teeth, and, rising
from the shelter of the rock, he faced
the hail Of death that battered to the
earth around him.
AS he walked into the open a faint
cheer reached his ears from the Brit
ish troops half a mile behind him. The
Royal artillery backed him with a
shrieking flight OF shrapnel, which
whistled for a moment overhead, then
burst over the Boer lines quarter of
a mile away In shower of bullets
that for moment quelled the storm
around him.
He reached the wounded man, lifted
him on his back and returned step by
step to where Trumpeter Pipes lay
hidden.
The trumpeter gave him a faint
Bravo" as he staggered and fell with
his, burden into the kindly shelter OF
the rock.
| That xya, UbIto Lsaathar's rauarJ