The Washburn leader. [volume] (Washburn, McLean County, N.D.) 1890-1986, 1902-04-05
L1USSARS OF DEATH
BY PAVL r.
COPYRIGHT. 1909. By DAILY STORY PuB. Coz


The horses pulled and tugged at the
bit and tossed their heads im~patiently.
The clanking Of sword and scabbard
began to lull my mind, and my eye
lids began to droop. Through the
light gray of the early morning, the
figures Of the troopers looked ghost
like and shadowy as they swayed
automatically with the motion Of
their mounts, and the low hum Of
voices came to my earl as from afar.
The soft, sucking thud OF the horses
hoofs on the corduroy road, acting
with the easy mist that hung over
the valley, began to send a feeling of
drowsiness yer me, and my eyes
slowly closed. The world had been
shut out from my view but a moment.
when l became conscious of something
riding beside me, something cold and
silent, and in a moment my eyes flew
open.
The men were just as 1 had last seen
them, and for a moment l laughed at
my sudden fears. But gradually an
object, black, silent and mournful, be-
gan to close in upon me, and even as
l looked, figure after figure began to
spread throughout the troop until
there were thousands of them riding
amongst us.
I looked at the one cantering beside
me. He seemed to breathe a cold damp
ness, and involuntarily I wrapped my
military cloak closer round my body.
He was black from his skull-tight
cap and loose coat, to the powerful
charger he rode-a deathly black. He
was tall and gaunt, and in the light
breeze that had sprung up, his clothes
tapped loosely about his bony frame,
and his horse, though galloping along
side Of mine, gave no sound as its
hoofs struck the road. An orderly
came riding from the rear, and rode
straight for him. "A warning cry was
on my lips when, to my horror, the
trooper swept past, having ridden
through my companion as though he
were nothing but air. For a moment
I reeled u%nsteadily in my saddle, but a
grim chuckle brought me to myself,
and T sat upright to find what had
once been a human face, staring at
me. 1t needed but a glance at those
sunken hollows and whitened bones
to tell me I was looking at a skeleton.
"Who are you?" l muttered.
The M in black broke into another
chuckle. "We," he said, indicating the
others with a sweep of his shadowy
arm, "are the Hussars Of Death"
from the phantom. But in an in
slant, without any visible effort, he
leaped his charger v to my side.
"We'n have work here to-day" he
croaked, work, work."
l shivered slightly, and glanced at a
low, fiat line. far down the valley, and
through the rising mists, thought I
could distinguish the CLEAN Of a can
non. So these were the trenches we
were to charge. Even rs I thought, a
white puff, a dull boom and the
shrek Of a shell, awoke the echoes Of
the distant hills. And the Hussars Of
Death had work to do.
At my elbow q bugle blew, but I
scarcely heard or understood the notes.
1 saw a thousand right arms bend, 1
heard the scraping Of steel on tin, and
in a moment q thousand blades flash
ed in the air, breathing defiance at the
smoke ahead.
Around me / could dimly see strain
ed and bloodless faces, trying to look
encouragement at one another. But
my eyes were not for them. Far as
the eye could reach were hosts Of
black figures, comforting and writhing
in silent glee, waiting but for the sig
oal to begin their work.
Out from the works ahead leaped a
tongue of flame, to be followed by a
shrek of agony. Through a rift in
the vapor l caught a momentary
glimpse Of a trooper laying in the
road, the CHASTITY multitude surround
ing him in exultation.
"Our first recruit" gibbered the M
in black, clicking his horrible jaws to-
gether, "our first recruit"
His words, and the sight of the man
set my brain on fire, and gripping the
bridle-rein in one hand9 l rose in my
stirrups and swung my sabre for his