The Colfax chronicle. [volume] (Colfax, Grant Parish, La.) 1877-1981, 1904-02-27


| AS they passed out upon the road.
which was little more than a wagon
track overshadowed by trees, the smell
| of smoke was borne on the wind, and
the major turned with some misgivings
10 take parting look at the little house
he was leaving behind. 1t was a snug
place, and CHEEKY. The cabin, with its
whitewashed walls and the pot of flow
ers Frightening the window, made one
think OF prim old man with a carna-
ton in his buttonhole-the major him
self. perhaps. dressed for feast-day.
Presently now they were in the for
est that pressed close up to the road.
But the donkey made painful progress.
When the afternoon was well spent they
were still some ten miles from the place
where the major had planned to spend
the night.
The sun sank behind the trees. The
first shades merged into darkness. Night
was upon them when they came to bit
of rising ground which the major knew
was not far from their destination. OFF
at the southwest he could see a glow
upon the sky that filled him with ap-
prehension.
1t was after eight o'clock when they
had managed to make another mile, and
now the fire first seen from the hilltop
was spreading very rapidly. 1t tinged
the whole southern sky where storm
clouds hung, and strange sounds, indis-
unct and ominous, were in the air.
On again the travellers plodded for a
little way, and then Michael stumbled
and rolled his riders on the ground.
When the major had scrambled to his
feet, and made sure that Marie's cries
were due to fright, and not to injury, he
noted that the beacon light on the sky
was well up toward the zenith, and the
distant sounds we're growing louder
Even as he looked up, tree here and
there frightened IN the glow.
For a moment he stood irresolute.
Then an inspiration came to him.
Selling Marie, he dropped her into one
OF the saddle-bag pockets and strapped
the pocket-fiap loosely at the top.
The baby squirmed vigorously and
cried Justify, but the pocket, flap and
all, held firm. 1t was doubtful chance
that the major meant to take; but he
thought the donkey's instinct would
guide him to safety, and since he could
not carry both his master and Marie,
there was no other way.
There were tears in the old soldiers
eyes as he picked up a stout stick and
struck Michael a resounding blow
across the TANKS. His lameness for
gotten for the moment, the donkey
bounded away.
The major followed. but only as far
as Father Ramien's little woodland
chapel. In truth, he could go no far
ther He had barely strength to
scramble up the rude steps and in at
the open door. Father Ramien was
gone. The only light within was that
of the altar lamp, which sent faint
ray out into the little room.
But off at the south the fire was
flashing from tree to tree. Terrifying
noises accompanied it, and the clouds
were SO bright that flames from above
seemed to mingle with the fire below
The major thought the end of the
world had come.
The light grew brighter. He could
see the .crucifix above the altar, the
passion pictures on the walls, the
carven text upon the chancel rail that
promised eternal life The major knelt
to say paternoster. Presently the
frail little structure shook in the blast,
the windows burst in, and in the roll
ing tide of fame the chapel disap-
peared
Two days later Marie Bonnet's
nurse, desperately hurrying back to
Peshtigo, met some people who told
her of a miraculous escape. A child
had been placed in one of the pockets
Of a prodigious pain of saddle-bags and
to the care of donkey
which trusty beast had saved both
the child's life and his own by saga
ciously walking into ponu near the
Sugar Bush road.
So! And where was the child? One
should see William Duquette, the
Very well, then. To VIII
liam Duquette went Mother La Rose
and proved that it was
he little Marie who had been in the
and who had come out Of
It a trifle stupefied by smoke, nut very
much alive; in fact, wholly unharmed.
Years after. when the little Marie