Washington standard. [volume] (Olympia, Wash. Territory) 1860-1921, 1903-04-03

beautiful Huntsville, nesting among
Cumberland plateau-and was working
my way northward toward Fayette
Vile, Tenn. The plants In the yard.
beside the road We're putting forth
their buds. the leaves on the trees were
opening, insects were awakening, bird:
snging-all revived by the rays Of the
Vernal sun.
l permitted my horse to drop into O
walk. \ pleasant languor stole over
me, replacing bitter mental turbu
lence which had been ever present with
me for months. Perhaps 1t was the
genial warmth, the balmy air; perhaps
an absence of war scenes with which
l had long been familiar; perhaps both
At any rate, l watched the sun gliSteu
on the dewdrops, felt its rays warm my
shoulders, and listened to the singing
of the birds with 4 consciousness that
after all, sometimes it is pleasant to
live.
Then came an unaccountable sinking.
1t may have been something In the
restfulness, the security had felt, in
congruous with pestilent war; Just as
amid the luxurious foliage Of the trop-
les one feels that behind every leaf and
flower turks invisible fever. Suddenly
the shots rang out; then came my reply
to the girl standing beside me looking
at the dead bushwhacker; then my
entry into the house. and now 1 was
lying on a comfortable lounge an OBJ
ject Of tender solicitude on the part of
people who, from being strangers, had
suddenly become very dear friends.
But suppose they knew me-that I
was a renegade, traitor to the south.
There was no name harsh enough
among COnfederates for those Of their
own people who were not with them,
and all who were not with them were
against them, and doubtless these new
found friends were all Confederate
sympathizers. The bushwhacker could
tell no tales. was thankful for that,
for he had known me we'll. The
thought Of him took me back to that
night Of horrors. I was again at the
head Of those Tennessee Unionists en-
deavoring to lead them to a haven of
safety. We were near the Cumberland
gap. One more day and we should be
at Camp Dick Robinson, where we
should ind Federal troops. Then the
attack. By the flashing of guns I
could see their faces. and here and
there recognize a neighbor-men beside
whom had lived for years, and whom
civil war had converted into fiends.
One by one I saw my friends shot
down. There was one dearer to me
than all besides. Through the dark
ness, guided by the flashes and the
sound Of my voice, she darted to me.
and found refuge in my arms.
Then that sudden dash of Confeder-
ate cavalry. I felt the figure l held
culver and slip through my arms. l
moaned and kissed the white lips: then,
like lightning, the wild beast jumped
within me. looked up to see who had
done this last, this browning atrocity.
A Confederate officer sat on his horse
staring at me, in his hand a smoking
pistol. A sudden collapse, and knew
that was hit This Is all I remem-
bered of the massacre.
How I gloated IN my revenge! The
homes of men who had committed
those murders were burning. and I had
applied the torch. Their barns, grain
everything they possessed-passedaway
in black spark spangled clouds. which
shot upward as II to carry vengeance
to the very heavens. These men had
made my life a waste; had made
theirs q hell.
There was one had not yet pun
ished. one whose punishment longed
for more than all the rest-the Confed-
crate officer with the smoking pistol.
I sought for him without success. Then
I tried to forget him, but whenever
remembered that beloved figure fee
ing to me for protection, that tremor,
that sinking away before the blight Of
death, I would start again on my long
hunt. I Joined the army. thinking that
wars greater horrors might for a time
enable me to forget my feud. All went
well till I heard Of him. BE was Mt
Huntsville. I burned to reach him.
Our general was casting covetous eyes
On northern Alabama. I begged him
to let me go down and bring back a
report Of the country, the railroads, Its
rolling stock. machine shops, bridges.
everything "a knowledge Of which
would assist in its capture.
But this low cur who had tried to kill
me-he was ut the massacre. With my
own hand had applied fire to his mis-
cradle hut. How had he known that l
was in Alabama? Had he heard Of me
during my stay at Huntsville? 1t had
been brief, for as soon as reached the
town learned that my enemy was not
there and, disappointed, turned my face
northward. Or had the bushwhackey
met me by chance? l did not know. !
do not know now. OF one thing I was
certain-he was one Of my old enemies,
and they would hunt me like hare.
lay for hours unwillingly turning
over these war horrors as II they were
a wheel on which I was obliged to
tread. No one came into the room, and
l called no one. Doubtless they wished
me to be quiet. was weak and tired
tired in mind, tired in body, tired Of
existence. If could only find him, the
world might vanish for all me.
I fell into a troubled slumber. and
when .awoke I saw standing in the
doorway girl Of 8 or 0 years-a frail
blue eyed little thing, with her hair Gu,
square about her neck and held by 9
semicircular comb. She was gazing al
me intently, as children in fairy tales
stand on tiptoe and look at the sleeping
ogre who is intending to eat them fol
supper.
'Come in." said encouragingly.
She shrank back. But, though she
seemed to dread me, she could not keel
away from me. Without for moment
taking her eyes of me she began to ap
proach by slow, very slow, steps.
felt as II l were a snake charming Q
bird.
Don't be afraid of me-" said. 81
won't hurt you"
you killed him." She pointed like
an accusing angel to the opposite side
Of the road, where had left the body