El Paso herald. (El Paso, Tex.) 1901-1931, 1910-12-24
The Lamp OF Love
By Frank Toussaint.

"H HE evening I arrived at the post
of Ksar-el-Hadid with my spahis
l went out for a walk along the
trail towards Doued to smoke a few
cigarets After the heat of the day, the
cool water and the shade Of the euca-
lyptus and laurel trees made me forget
the time. When 1 started back towards
the camp twilight was already falling
and was followed with incredible swift
ness by the darkness of the desert My
comrades were expecting me for dinner
and 1 did not want to give them the
impression that 1 did not care for their
invitation. Fortunately I had heard of
a short cut along a path skirting the
graveyard. and following this hurried
towards Ksar-e1-Hadid.
In the distance a little below / could
see the lights of the oasis, twinkling
like stars. / was on the right way,
evidently, and soon caught sight of the
graveyard, situated on a small hill. My
surprise was boundless, for 1 saw a
bright flame illuminating a number Of
crosses and graves. Was 1T perhaps a
grave digger digging a grave at this
hour. or perhaps an Arab plundering
the dead? 1 was about to make a rush
for the spot, when l thought 1 saw a
shadowy form running away-my pres
ence must have been discovered The
silence, the darkness, the vague fear
that takes hold ofzyou when near a
cemetery. and the light on the humble
tombstones, all this added to my ner-
vouSneSs.
gave up the idea Of entering the
garden Of the dead. 1t was surrounded
by a thick hedge Of thorny mimosas,
and to burst open the gate was impos-
sible. From the distance came the bay
ing of the jackals, the wind was moan
ing in the tree tops and chasing clouds
across the sky, wiping out the stars.
1 threw a last glance towards the GEM
etery. The bright light seemed to have
hyptonized me and 1 found it difficult
to leave.
The orderlies had just served the cof-
fee. Lieutenant Barennes began his
story:
'Djebba's lamp. Yes. it is quite
story, as beautiful and mysterious as
any of the stories we know here. 1
knew the strange lady whose name you
just heard me speak, the loving woman
who wanted to perpetuate an illustrious
memory in magnificent manner
TT happened just six months ago in
June. Following an old tradition which
we live up to very faithfully, the Off
Ger, whose place L took, on the morning
of his departure, took me to the ceme-
terry where 80 of our soldiers rest in
eternal sleep. My predecessor stopped
in front of 10 graves hidden under the
palms.
Here are the graves Of the men
who fell at El-Mungar,' he said, salut-
ing respectfully.
These words were enough. Every
one Of us knows of the feat of Tisser-
and, who, with a handful of men Of the
foreign legion, duplicated that of Leon
idas at Thermapylae and Of Capt.. &C.
reaux at Sidi-Brahim.
Here is the grave of a hero he
added, corporal Daniele. an Italian by
birth, whom we buried here five days
after the battle at Ell Mungar. He got
two bullets in his chest while defending
the dead body of sergeant Pradier.
With the profile of a Malatesta, this
Italians real name was never known to
US, but we had reason to think that he
belonged to one of the most noble fam
lilies of Venice and was driven into the
foreign legion by his love of adventure
To US he was only Daniele."
Our visit was over and we left the
cemetery.
One morning, some weeks later, while
I was watching my men at target prac-
tice, / suddenly thought 1 must be
dreaming. From the direction of Ma
hareb came the snorting sound of an
auto. The troopers, too, had heard It
and looked at one another. What fool
could ever take it into his head to drive
an auto across the desert of Ksar-el-
Hadid? You know our. roads, barely
visible in the sand, you know how hard
1t is for our wagons to follow them.
The noise of the motor grew louder and
L must admit that I did NOT follow the
target practice with overrhuch atten-
ton Suddenly a sentry came rushing
towards me