The National tribune., 1902-12-25

resting upon forked poles. The bull rush
ed headforemost through the tent flaps
into the interior Of the kitchen tent,
whence the clatter Of an overturned stove
and sundry kitchen utensils thrown about
soon announced that he was doing great
execution. The noise suddenly changed
into that Of broken crockeryware, while
fearful cries for help issued from the
tumbling mass, evidently emanating from
the throat of Monsieur Romanoff, the
French chef, whom / found half buried
in the debris when l appeared upon the
scene.
All Of this had, of course, taken place
with great rapidity. l had dismounted
and was looking, with rife ready cooked,
through the torn canvas, and was about
ready to shoot at the bull, who was en-
tangled in a mass of canvas and ropes
that had been pulled hither and thither
in the fracas, when I observed Romanoff
in front, directly in the line of fire. He
spurted out: Don't shoot!'
While l was trying to obtain favor
able angle for firing without endangering
the life of the cook, the bull suddenly
disengaged himself from the tangle of
ropes, bursted through the east wall of
the tent, and galloped across the parade
ground, dragging after him several ropes
and tent pins, while from one of his horns
dargled large piece of torn canvas, flap
ping in the wind. Thence he crossed the
eastern ravine and soon disappeared over
The high ground in the direction of the
Milestone Mountains. Some cavalry were
sent in pursuit, and succeeded in
bringing him down seven miles from camp,
after an expenditure of 81 cartridges. He
had been hit IL times, but not in any vital
spot, and finally succumbed to loss of
blood and exhaustion.
UNDER ARREST.
In the meantime the commanding Off
Ger, who had been suddenly awakened
from quiet afternoon nap by the general
commotion in his immediate vicinity, had
appeared upon the sceen and stopped me
from following the bull just as l had re-
mounted. With purple cvuntenance and
eyes emitting veritable sparks of fury, he
demanded an explanation of the passing
events, which he called this internal hub
bub." But l could not explain for laugh
ter. / had been seized with an uncon-
trollable fit of mirth that nearly shook me
from my saddle, so that, l believe, if my
life had depended upon the uttering of a
connected sentence at that moment, | was
BILE to utter it. All danger to life was
now over, and / saw in my mind only the
ridiculous aspect of the scenes just wit
messed; the frightened bathers, the tum-
BILE Of the tents and the frantic cook half
buried in the debris. / was very young
then, full Of fun at all times, and the
causes of mirth were of SO recent occur
renee, that was utterly unable to render
a connected account of the dramatic dis
play. An understandable fit of laughter
would cut of my speech, of which the
only comprehensive utterance was: "The
bull-wounded-m This disre-
spectful behavior on my part incensed
Maj. Brown greatly, the more so as l had
omitted to dismount and salute him when
he addressed me. Nearly bereft of speech
himself by fury, he was just able to ar
ticulate the words: Go to your quarters
under arrestw
My quarters were in the adobe building
in q room used as Q. NJ. and G. s. Office,
and thither / went to have my laugh out,
and then to reflect in general way upon
the vicissitudes Of army life in the Far
West, and in particular upon the ingrati-
tude shown me for voluntary services rem
dered to our camp in the way of promoting
the expediency of slaughtering cattle.
While l was still Illuminating upon my
grievances and the problematic outcome of
my adventure, Romanoff came in and de-
manded, in his short, jerky way FIVE
pounds Of white sugar for the officers
mess, which l fatty refused, stating that
was under arrest, could therefore issue
nothing, and was waiting for somebody
to arrive and relieve me Of my authority
and receive the keys. AS we shall have
to mention this cook again in the course
Of our narrative, it is perhaps well to
mention here that Monsieur Romanof was
an original Of an uncommon sort. He
claimed to be native OF Russia, spoke
but little English, and that little with a
strong French accent; this latter language
he spoke with great fuency, purity, and
even refined elegance; he was a frst-class
cook: In his abrupt manners and short,
jerky sentences he reminded me forcibly
Of the insect called tarantula killer,
kind Of wasp with quick, seemingly al
ways angry motions, whose whole life
seems to be passed In a state Of perma-
nent excitement bordering on fury. Ro-
manor had no patience at any time, and
was. or seemed to be, always In 4 great
hurry.
His answer to my announcement of
being laid on the shelf" was simply:
I'll me fault du sucre pour souper." II
must have sugar for our supper) He al
ways spoke to me In French. With these
| 10. L.