Evening star., 1919-03-30
NHE story OF the abandoned
house. the baby's shoe and
the landscape which the brok-

ehe landscape which the brok-
en- window framed, occupied
so much Of the space in last Sundays
narrative that the Rambler was fore.
ed to lay aside few sentiments bear
Ing upon the ancient and the lonely
road which parallels Cabin John creek
along part of its crooked course. The
Rambler told OF the stone wall over
laced with wild vines and of the
gaunt sycamores which line the creek
ana IN winter and early spring cast
their shadows across the road.
That Is the River road. The Ram
bier does not mean to tell where the
Done that already. Those persons who
40 not know those facts about the old
road nave not been attentive readers
OF 5hese rambles and have defective
Th understanding of local geography.
There is nothing singular in this.
Iosts OF people in Washington can
glibly answer civil service questions
as TO the length of the Missouri. Mis-
slSsippi. the Ohio and the Rio Grande.
who know perfectly we'll what states
are washed or laved by the Wabash,
Chattahoochee. Kaw and Sacrament
TO- ana who can recite various facts
apout the Cumberland, Tennessee. st.
johns, st. Lawrence and Columbia.
IN despair and shake their heads side
ways If they were asked in what part
or what county Cabin John has it's
source. or where Goose creek enters
the Potomac, or which is the best
road. il there is one. to get to the
NOUN or Seneca creek. or what part
OF the United States is drained by
SuGarland run and Watts branch, or
where are 0xon run. Piscataway, Mat
tawoman. Pamunkey and Naniemoy
creeks However. the Rambler means
not to quarrel with people whose edl-
Caloh IN nearby geography has been
neglected He would have tc quarrel
With too many of his friends.
X
Well. along that part Of the lonely
and shadowy road, which is called
the River road. though it is much
farther from the river than many
newer roads, one will find old people.
some with very dark skins and some
with fair. who will tell you that on
dark nights and generally around
midnight may be heard mysterious
drum beats and bugle calls, sepul-
chral voices roaring out commands.
and the tread of feet. the grinding Of
wheels. the rattle of trace chains and
the creaking of harness. as of an
army on the march. They will tell
forms pass by. Perhaps you. skep-
tical reader, will say that those
sounds are the white boughs of the
sycamores and the tall cedars swaying
In the midnight wind and that the
gray forms are wisps of mist risen
from the creek and twisted into fam
tastic or phantom shapes by breezes.
But many old people. and especially
many old and truthful colored peo-
pie, know better than this They
know those sycamores and cedars
better than you do. and the creek
sang their cradle song. their love
songs and their wedding march, and
will sing a dlrge for them when they
fall into that soft and gentle sleep
which men call death.
The Rambler believes that these old
folk know more about Cabin John
creek. the River road. the sycamores
and the cedars and the gray mists
that rise from the creek and SOL
emnly float along the road than you
do. They also know more about
ghosts than you do, because they see
more of them. And these old folk
maintain that the sounds are not of
the winds making music through the
trees and that the gray forms are not
wisps of mist from the creek. They
are the ghosts of soldiers on the
march. 1t is Braddocks army on it's
way to Fort Du Quesne and the will
derness of the Alleghenies and the
Ohio.
There is one difficulty which per-
pleXes the Rambler: These military
specters are always seen on the
march toward the western wilder
ness. They did not become ghosts
for several weeks after passing west
ward over that part of the road, and
why they should always be seen
marching toward that Indian ambus-
cade which made them ghosts, in
stead Of away from it. is a question
to which the Rambler cannot con-
ture up an answer now, unless 1t
might be that there is no accounting
for the tastes and habits of ghosts.
The spectral army is on the march
at midnight. or perhaps from midnight
to cock crow. or It'll the glow worm
shows the matin to be near" 1t goes
forward as armies on the march gen.
orally do-about three miles an hour. :
Yet it never seems to get out of this
long hollow in the land where the
River road and Cabin John creek
parallel each other for half a mile.
Why the spectral army persists in
marching again and again over this
particular stretch of road instead of
keeping on to the west is perhaps some
what puzzling to a few of us. Though
1T is always seen marching west. 1t is
never seen counter-marching east 1t