The Knoxville independent. [volume] (Knoxville, Tenn.) 1894-current, 1917-02-10

Us IN the present. Fetd OF Udf. ~
is from Aharoneau's tale, "Bgaes the
o."
Chsro the Armenian hunter, cared
for weather as little as did the bears
and wolves that he fought. He suf-
fered natures cruelties as stubbornly
as did the rocks of his native noun
tains. His con, nual strife, his con-
.inual shedding of blood, had given
him not only the courage of beast
of prey but the silence of one.
Silent and unsmiling, he brought his
trophies to the village. Silent and
unsmiling, he bore them past the adj
miring people. Silent and unsmiling,
he departed.
But one day he catered the village
smiling. On his back was strange.
q horrible burden. 1t was not a dead
wild beast, but prey heavier and far
more noble. And Chsro smiled under
this burden. With terrible, fatal
smile Chsro smiled as he stopped be-
meath the body Of his only son.
"See Chsro's trophy |" he cried, when
the villagers gathered. Whose prey
is this? 1t is the prey Of the Kurds !
hunt wild beasts! They hunt Ar
menianSw
The son had been killed by Kurdish
raiders while he was trying to defend
from them the pair of oxen with which
he had been blowing.
And Chsro went back to his noun
tains and lay in wait-but not for ami
mails. He did not turn his steps home
ward again until he had drunk out OF
his followed hand the blood Of the
Kurds who had slain his son.
When he re-entered the village the
neighbors clamored that 1t had been
raided in his absence and that his
daughter and his sons widow had been
carried off. Chsro listened. Without
word or a sob, he listened, turned
away, and disappeared.
After many days he came back and
did something that struck the village
| dumb. He gathered his possessions
piled them in his house and set all OF
4 fire. When the last glowing rafter hae
fallen, he took his little grandson
Trumo by the hand and went away.
| None of the village ever saw hin
again, but before many days they
learned of the terrible deed that the
iron man had done previously to burn
ing his house. He had crept to the
Kurdish stronghold and had stabbed
the two captured women to death, tina
the outrage to his family honor nigh
vanish from the earth.
Chsro and his little Thumo wan
dered, clinging to existence by ever!
means that misery could devise. Al
they went on, begging, starving, freez
ing, the old hunters mind became sick
Thumo's great, blue eyes made hin
shudder; for they were the eyes O.
his unhappy mother, whose innocen
blood had poured dreadfully over thu
hunters hand when he stabbed her.
He began to forget why ne had slail
hts dear ones. Only the horror tn
heartlessness of his deed survived IL
his memory. He suffered dim tor
ments by day. Vivid phantoms tor
tured him at night. If it had not BEEF
that he must remain alive to care TO
little Thumb, his practiced hant
would have sent the steel into his owl
throat, and he would have gone to CO.
to tell his tale-such tale, though
OLD Chsro sobbing, that heaven woul'
shudder, the angels would wall and tn
splendid stars lose light.
Weary, wretched and ragged, the
came at last into town where Their
was a bazaar. Chsro and Thumo sa
down against wall to get the warmth
of a meager sun. Suddenly the oil
man, looking at the busy marke
scene, began to weep.
Little Thumo looked in the direction
of his grandfat hers gaze. He saw
Kurd with a beautiful OK.
"Blaes, grandfather, our Blaes
screamed the child. He ran to the O.
and began to kiss the broad forehea
between the soft, gentle eyes.
The Kurd, suspecting instantly tina
these must be the previous owners Q
the animal, tried to drive it away
but the child chung to the great, silke
ear, and the powerful brute stood OF
stinately still, seeking Thumo's chez
with his muzzle.
'It is not timer said the Kur
softly. my life on It'll Come, chile
and let him gow
He tried to loose the boys hold o
the OK. Grandfather Grandfather
i walled Thumo.
A crowd had gathered. Chsro coul
not see what was happening. He coul
only hear his grandchild scream. II
slant fury seized him. He sprang III
broke through the crowd, and feape
, at the Kurd, gripping his throat.
! The Kurd struggled. He tore th
] hair from Chsro's head. But the ner'
Gus old hands were as iron rings. an
with hoarse growl the Armenian
l q n. \