The Yale expositor., 1917-02-01

menlGn story glUen mere. us scene
as IN the present field Of War. 1t
IS from AharOHeau'S tale, "BlaeS the
o."
Chsro, the Armenian hunter cared
for weather as little as did the bears
and wolves that he fought. He sln-
fered natures cruelties as stubbornly
as did the rocks Of his native noun
tains. His continual strife his con-
tinual 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
mlring people. Silent and unsmiling,
he departed.
But one day he entered the village
smiling. On his back was n strange,
a horrible burden. 1t was noba dead
wild beast, but prey II ..vier and far
more noble. And Chsro smiled under
this burden. With a terrible, fatal
smile ChSro smiled as he stopped be-
meath the body of his only son.
See Chsro's trophy rshe cried, when
the villagers gathered. "Whose prey
is this? 1t is the prey of the Kurds
hunt wild beasts! They hunt Ar
menians !"
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-entercd the village the
neighbors clamored that it 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 on
fire. When the last glowing rafter had /.
fallen, he took his little grandson |.
Trumo by the hand and went away.
None Of the village ever saw him |
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, that /
the outrage to his family honor might |
vanish from the earth.
Chsro and his little Thumo wan
dered, clinging to existence by every |
means that misery could devise AS
they went on, begging, starving, freez-
ing, the old hunters mind became sick.
ThumO's great, blue eyes made him
shudder; for they were the eyes of
his unhappy mother, whose innocent
blood had poured dreadfully over the
hunters hand when he stabbed her.
He began to forget why he had slain
his dear ones. Only the horror, the
heartlessness of his deed survived in
his memory. He suffered dim tor
ments by day. Vivid phantoms tor
tured him at night. If il had not been
that he must remain alive to care for
little Thumo, his practiced hand
would have sent the steel into his own
throat, and he would have gone to god
to tell his tale-such a tale, thOugat
old ChsrO sobbing, that heaven wouHd
shudder the angels would wall and the
splendid stars lose light.
Weary, wretched and ragged, they
came at last into a town where there
was bazaar. Chsro and Thumo sat
down against wall to get the warmth
of meager sun. Suddenly the old
man, looking at the busy market
scene, began to weep.
Little Thumo looked in the direction
of his grandfather's gaze. He saw
kurd with a beautiful OK.
"Blaes. grandfather, our Blaes !"
screamed the child. He ran to the OK
and began to kiss the broad forehead
between the soft, gentle eyes.
The Kurd, suspecting instantly that
these must be the previous owners Of
the animal, tried to drive IL away;
but the child chung to the great, silken
ear, and the powerful brute stood OBJ
still, seeking Thumo's cheek
with his muzzle.
at is not timer said the Kurd
softly. 'My life on It! Come, child,
and let him go!"
He tried to loose the boys hold on
the OK. Grandfather! Grandfather
walled Thumo.
a crowd had gathered. Chsro coGd
not see what was happening. He could
only hear his grandchild scream. IN
slant fury seized him. He sprang up.
broke through the crowd, and leaped
1t the Kurd gripping his throat.
The Kurd struggled. He tore the
hair from Chsro's head. But the nerv- {
JUS old hands were as iron rings, and {
with hoarse growl the Armenian's I
ingernails dug deeply, deeply.
The bystanders tried TO null him off