The Washington herald., 1909-05-23

shot. He marveIed at the killing pace set
the refugee. And little by little
sense % sorrow grew up in him The
fierce fires Of his Gallo temperament had
! burned themselves out, and he could feel
/ the chill Of regret creeping into this soul
His nights were filed with dreams Of q
naked man. crouched in his own shadow,
with a pleading. agonized face turned
upward from a sun-burned guich. Often
through his restless sleep he heard the
/ cry Jean. Jean. amt 1 had eaough2
! And one morning he awakened with a
I theartzche such as he had never felt be-
I fore. he found that he could not eat;
/ somehow the grub stuck in his throat.
The day before be had lost ne trail. and
until nightfaH he had sought vainly for
/ fl. With hand at brow he stared into
the dawn-lit waste. but saw no Falion-
A great food Of pity rushed into his
soul and drowned the last snolGertng
! eubers Of his rage
/ II was enough. He would fnc FaIlon
that day and make it ali Up TO him. For
after all. a man is only man Had not
tbts man stood naked under a burning
sky. CRYING 70 his God2 And who was
Jean Deroin that he should judge and
punlsh7
Where vas FalIon2 He would find Fal-
lion. He would put his arms about the
neck Of Fallon and together they would
/ beg forgiveness Of God
The mercurial temperament OF his an
! cestors now changed about and pltied
more than Il had hated before.
/ Up and down, round and round in and
out and over the sun-baked galehes trot-
ted Little Jean Ike a frustrated blood
hound nOsing for the trail,
,'Fallon, FallOn. FalloHr
Under the blazing sun. into the sultry
silence. he hurled the poignant, searching
cry
'FaHon, FaIlonl FaliOn,
The ashen hills took up the shout and
sent a hundred melancholy voices crying
through the wilderness for Fallon-
The darkness fell. scarcely observed;
the night grew old and waned; and in the
dawn Jean found himself upon q desoiate
/ plain. strewn with volcanic Tubble and
surrounded by the grotesque hills He
vas thinking Of the bitter words he huri-
( ed at FalIOn from the cliff, and lumpy,
I chOky feeling came into his throat As
/ he proceeded, he breathed humble. fer
vent prayers into the silence OF the dawn
4 back. and he could hear. as from great
! distance. the ghostiy voice OF FalIon
growing up through the booming Of the
I ICheyenne's food: a wOman's eyes Just
as the sun goes down; but rs long
and costly jag you yet-iong and costly
And then there's the bitter taste, you
/ know-the bitter taste"
All. God. the bitter taste,
/ The trail,
Jean stared hard upon the ground
The character OF the surface had
changed. In the soft powder Sf disin-
! tegrated stone he saw a blurred trail
such as a wounded bear might make
dragging its hips in the dust.
/ Proceeding AZ a jog trot. he followed
Il Il led directly eastward
Suddenly Jean stopped again. There
before him In stone dust were the marks
Of human hands and close behind them
the prints Of huddled feet
At glance he read the hIeroglyphic
tale OF bitterness-the story Of q pitiful
struggle against irresistible odds. L sick
ened him.
With Z wild hope that he might yet be
In time. he ran down the trail and Up
the dry gulch crying: ''Falion, FaIlon.
Fallon"'
At length the echoes died. and stiIl the
hills were nlled with clamOr-a weird.
discOrdant clamOr- Up a fOTking guich
ahead OF him q cloud OF crows lifted laz-
Hy in the sun-scorched afr. and scared
and wheeled about with q dull tapping OF
wings
With a singing heart Little Jean ran to
the spot from whence the crows had
risen
BreathlessIy. with wide. horroT-stricken
eyes. he looked upon a thing that stared
with eyeiess sockets at the sun.
Shivering. he fed from the place And
as he ran Little Jean heard not the
pounding Of his heart, noT the cIatteTing
OF his feet
IN all the hollow spaces OF the world
there was no sound for him but the cav
ing. chsuering. tapping OF the Crows
the funereal, insistent Utterance OF the
brutal fact