The Savannah morning news. (Savannah, Ga.) 1900-current, 1903-05-31

guish the occupant. Then he perceiv.
| ed that the latter was a gentle faced
silver-haired individual of mild aspect
| dressed decently but strangely, and
| possessed Of interpretive blue eyes
which he turned dreamily on Lafond.
May 1 camp here?" he inquired
deprecatingly.
The half-breed considered.
Il spose So" he said, without en-
| thusiasn.
The old man descended and uncoup-
led his two animals. After he had pick
eted them, he returned, and, extracting
from the wagon body the materials
for meal, he proceeded to make him.
self at home over Lafond's fire
Il never did like to camp alone,
he conf1ded to the latter.
( Lafond watched him intently. No
! further words were exchanged until
! the stranger had finished his supper
and he'd restored his kit to the wagon.
Then the younger man offered the hos
pitality of the plains.
''Yo smoke" he inquired, rendering
his tobacco.
Thank you, no." replied the old man
fond felt, but could not define.
The half-breed could not make out
the newcomer, and the conversation
failed to enlghten him. That was an
epoch when all the world turned to
the West; but it was a practical world.
There one might in time meet all sorts
and conditions of men, from the Eng
lish lord to the turbulent Fenian; from
the New York exquisite fallen on hard
times to the bad man" who had never
been east of the Mississippi. One never
betrayed surprise at anything one
might bring ashore from this flotsam
and jetsam of the human race. But all
these odds and ends were at least
made of tough material, strong enough
to run wherever rapid current might
dash them, capable of supporting hard
knocks against one another or the OBJ
structions in the way; while this placid
old man seemed to Lafond like a crys-
tai vessel, of rare quality, perhaps,
but none the less fragile. At the last
ne asked bluntly, What do you here p"
The old man fell silent for a minute
or two and gazed into the Goals of the
dying fire.
My name is Durand," he said at
last, with an infinitude of sorrow in
the tones of his voice. II am an en-
tomologist. l am here to get speci-
mens-buttertiies; but it is not here
that / belong. My place is elsewhere,
and that l know. But it is not in my
country. and" he broke off. La
fond looked on curiously, for the
dreamy haze had faded from the speak
er's eyes. My friend" Durand went
on, there are time when one cares not
to see the face of man except in the
bosom of the great nature. l do not
know that you understand that It is
with the bitterness of a wrong that
such knowledge comes. and with it
comes the hate of cities and of the
things men do. Some men have had
their will of me, and l am come to
the wilderness. They called it revenge
to drive me here"
Revenge! But you still live" re-
peated Lafond in wonder.
And is 1t that you think the taking
of life is revenge?" cried Durand, with
sudden energy. They who take their
revenge in killing are actually the
merciful ones, and they cheat no one
but themselves"
Yes" asked Lafond, his soul in the
question.
The other turned in surprise at his
companions vehemence. He saw a
stolid, dark-skinned man gazing inn
passively into the fire.
They are fools" went on Durand
bitterly, after a moment; Just fools.
These Others were of more ingenuity;
they knew what would hurt, what
would avenge them better than the
killing"
II do not understand" said the half
breed, feeling his way slowly, for the
fear of damming this flow of conf
dence. He looked away, for his eye
glowed. though his voice was steady.
Wat is it? If one kills. if one takes
that life, wat is worse?"
Worse, Worse?" cried Durand, fling
ing his hands impotently upward "A
thousand things!" He suddenly became
calm and turned to Lafond with inn
pressive foref1nger. Listen, my friend.
Life is little thing. Any one can
take ii who has a gun, or a knife or
even stone But the true revenge is
in finding out what it is that each
man prizes the most, and then taking
it from him. And that requires power!
power poweri
Few there are who have not some
thing they prize more than life" he
added, gloomily. The fire died from his
eye. He became once again the timid
old butterfly hunter, pushing blindly
himself for thus exposing an old wound
to a chance passer; and yet perhaps
feeling in some dim fashion-so inscru-
table are the instincts of these half
childish natures-that in so doing he
was following for a moment the lines
Of greater destinies than his own.
And certainly, long after the dipper
had swung below the pole star La
fond sat staring into the ashes of the
fire, just as four days since he had
stared into the ashes of brave and
chjvalrous life. In his history there
were the two crucial hours-one after
the greatest battle of the plains; the
| other after a dozen sentences exchang-
| ed with a half-crazy old entomologist
From the potent reflections induced by
these one hundred and twenty min
| utes it resulted that Michail Lafond
| became civilized and a seeker for
wealth in the development of the youn4
| country. In wealth he saw power; in
power the ability to give or take away
The depriving each man of tina!
which he prizes the most!