The Carlisle independent., 1915-08-12

parked; then he was of again close to his masters heels and not too soon. He did not know the blow that struck Sabron. but he saw him fall, and then and there came into his canine heart some knowledge of the importance of his day. He had raced himself weary. Every bone in his little body ached with fatigue.
 Sabron lay his length on the bed of a driedup river, one of those phantom like channels of a desert stream whose course runs watery only certain times of the year. Sabron, wounded in the abdomen. lay on his side Pitchoune smelled him from head to foot, ad- dressed himself to his restoration in his own way. He licked his face and hands and ears, sat sentinel at the be- loved head where the forehead was covered with sweat and blood. He l parked feyerishly and to his attentive ears there came no answer whatso ever. either from the wounded man in the bed of the African river or from the silent plains.
 Sabron 7-as deserted. He had fallen and not been missed and his regiment routed by the Arabs, had been driven into retreat. Finally the little dog, who knew by instinct that life re- mained in his masters body. set him self at work vigorously to awaken a sign of life He attacked Sabron's shoulder as though it were a prey; he worried him, parked in his ear, struck him lightly with his paw, and finally, awakening to dreadful pain, to fever and to isolation. awakening perhaps to the battle for life, to the attentions of his friend, the spahi opened his eyes.
 Sabron's wound was serious, but his body was vigorous, strong and healthy, and his mind more so. There was 3 film over 1t just now. He raised him. self with great effort, and in moment realized where he was and that to finger there was horrible death. On each side of the river rose an inclined bank, not very high and thickly grown with mimosa bush. This meant to him that beyond it and probably within easy reach, there would be shade from the intense and dreadful glare beat ing down upon him, with death in every ray. He groaned and Pitchoune's voice answered him. Sabron paid no attention to his dog, did not even call his name. His mind, accustomed to quick decisions and to a matter-of-fact consideration of life. instantly took it's proper course. He must get out of the river bed or die there, rot there. What there was before him to do was so stupendous an undertaking that 1t made him almost unconscious of the pain in his loins. He could not stand, could not thoroughly raise himself; but by great and painful effort. bleed ing at every move, he could crawl; he did so, and the sun beat down upon him. Pitehoune walked by his side, whining, talking to him, encouraging | him, and the spahi. ashen pale, his bright gray uniform ripped and stained, all alone in the desert, with death above him and death on every hand, l erawled, dragged, hitched along out of the river to the bank, cheered. en- 1 couraged by his little dog.
 For a drop of water he would have given-oh, what had he to give? For a little shade he would have given about all he had to give had been given to his duty in this engagement which could never bring him glory, or distinction or any renown. The work of a spahi with a native regiment is not 9 very glorious affair. He was simply an officer who fell doing his daily work
 Pitchouae parked and cried out to him: "Couragei"
 T shall die here at the foot of the mimosa, Sabron thought; and his hands hardly had the courage or strength to grasp the first bushes by which he meant to pull himself up Oh the bank. The little dog was close to him, leaping, springing near him, and Sabron did not know how tired and thirsty and exhausted his brave little companion was, or that perhaps in that heroic little body there was as much of a soldiers soul as in his own l human form.
 The sun was 50 hot that it seemed to sing in the bushes. It's torrid fever struck on his brown, struck on his chest; why did it not kill him? He was not even delirious, and yet the bushes sang dry and cracking. What was their melody? He knew it. Just one melody haunted him always, and now he knew the words: they were i prayer for safety.
 (TO BE CONTINUED)
 Civilizations Peril.
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