The Prince George's enquirer and southern Maryland advertiser. (Upper Marlborough, Md.) 1882-1925, 1907-11-22
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A FIGHT FOR LIFE.

A FIGHT FOR LIFE.
That battle is worth fighting to
the very end, no matter how discour-
aging the situation or how apparently
implacable the foe, is shown in Mr..
]. w. Steele's Sketches" of the army
frontier. If courage and strength
had given out only few moments
sooner the hero of the story would
never have told the tale.
A certain young soldier was one of
Western scouting party which was
exploring the headwaters of the Gila.
A snowstorm had caused the company
to lose their way, and they rode, day
after day, silent in the dread of COM
ing cold and starvation.
AS long as the snow melted in the
sun they could control their thirst,
and hares supplied them with food.
One night, while the party were
camping, a soldier, walking by him
self, thought he saw path. Follow
ing it along for a little way, he sat
down in the shelter of boulder Sud
denly he heard great rushing noise
as of furious wind. An avalanche
swept down the mountainside, send
ing great white bulk into the valley
The soldier crept near the shelter of
the rock, while the roar deafened
him, and the foaming white sea of
snow settled over him.
The camp was not touched. In the
morning, when the members of the
party woke, they missed their COM
rade and saw what had happened
Looking at the great heap of snow
they said, "He is dead" and went on
their way.
The soldier, however, was not dead
He was hemmed in between the rock
on one side and a white wall Of snow
on the other, while over him the ava
lanche lay like pail. The rock was
followed out in way which gave him
protection, and beneath him was a
bed of dry pine needles. A dim blue
light filtered through the covering
and showed the crystal outlines of
the hopeless house.
He called, but the sound came back
to his own ears. He did not lack
air. He could touch the rock and
the earth, and they seemed friendly
He was not cold, for the snow lay like
piles of blankets and the earth ra-
dated steam.
The soldier began to dig. His
fingers soon grew stiff and numb, but
he kept on, hour after hour, until the
opaline mass grew dim, and he knew
the early night had come. Then he
crawled backward through the tun-
mel he had made and slept by the
rock.
When he woke he knew by his
watch that five hours had gone. He
was frightened that so long a time
had passed and that no one had
come to save him. He crept through
the narrow tunnel and began digging
again, lying prone and pressing the
snow beneath him. Hours passed.
Blood from his fingers stained the
snow and his hands almost refused
their Office. Dark began to come
again. His hands were terribly swol-
len, but he worked for life. His
throat was sore and raw, and he ate
snow to quench his burning thirst.
His WEAKNESS was unutterable, yet
he toiled on.
At last it seemed as If he could see
the dim light was growing brighter.
This spurred his exhausted energy.
A hunter, living in the wild valley,
returning to his hut, saw a curious
cavity in the snow and explored it.
To his amazement there lay blue
clad figure, face downward, arms out
stretched. Under his rough but
kindly care the soldier recovered. A
few moments more and life would
have f1ed.-Youth's Companion.