The mirror. (Stillwater, Minn.) 1894-1925, 1912-10-17
SALTWATER. MINNESOTA, THURSDAY OCTOBER n, 1912.

dealing with each barbarous name
with sonorous affections. Did I be-
lieve him? Perhaps not, it may be
that | believe the days romance are
past or never existed. In the few
following days that he was with me
l saw him often. Ever busy, full
OF life and spirit, he became cor
poral and sought to whip his reluct-
ant squad into some semblance of
military order. 1t was thankless
work, for our patroits were a rest
less lot under discipline. Some
times, under the gentle stimulus of
alcohol, they indulged in grandilo-
quent descriptions of the Utopia
for which we of the army were pre-
parlng the way, but in the general
they thought more of the present
need of food and sleep and bottle
than the liberation of a tyranny
stricken land. But some success
was his, and his squad became the
crack squad of our hope-chaos of an
army. His reward came when he
was detailed to take his men and
capture small post held by the
rurales.
OF that fight know little. Per-
haps there is't much to know. 1t
is said the rurales fed after losing
two of their number by the first
volley, and Sims men, eager for
blood and loot, had been forced to
content themselves with burning
everything in sight and turning the
stock adrift on the range. In the
morning he had marched forth
proudly at the head of his little band
of twelve. They made brave ap-
pearance, in corduroys, in overalls,
in khakis; in stetsons and in capes:
gringoes and Mexicans carrying
guns Of Lalf a dozen calibers and
makes, but all wearing a generous
touch of famboyant red, and a hap
py eager smile that they had been
chosen. Ragged, perhaps unshaven
yes, but picturesque certainly, un-
drilled but efficient, truly they look
ed the part of the guerrilla. That
night he came back just as proudly
but this time he did not walk.
All went we'll with him until he
reached our lines in returning. At
the first outpost he was challenged
by drunken Yaqua sentinel. He
shouted to tn e sentinel Liberty
and Victory and gave the counter
sign, but the Yaqua's brain was mud
died from the loot of Los Cuerros,
so raising his rifle he emptied the
magazine into the body of our boy
corporal. Then with cry of terror
he threw down his gun fled. We
never saw him more.
Reverently, tenderly we brought
the wounded boy in. His pale face
shone with a strange animation.
His lips smiled, but the twitching
of his body showed his mortal hurt.
We placed him on cot, and held
his hand while he talked. He knew
the end was near, for he smiled as
though to make the last moments
happy ones, while waiting for the
gain visitor, death.
AS he talked and laughed | MOTTO
ed dark spot on the sand beneath
bis cot. Drop by drop his life blood
dripped through the canvas of the
stretcher and as the spot grew his
life ebbed.
The blood gathered in his throat
and he asked to be raised. / put
my arm under him and lifted him
that he might spit out the blood.
As he spat he sat back weak and
limp. Goodbye. Think of me
when you reach the City Of Mexico.
After that he was silent, / lighted
match and passed it before his lips.
then taking the red scarf from
around my neck / placed it over bis
face, and signing myself with the
cross, | walked away. He came to
conquer an empire. May he rest in
peace.