Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1923-03-14

SOiu OISlI1ClS oDONC IAhC RoJy NNAi6~o
with a frantic might his goodwill to-
the newcomer, Stephen March, when
the boy confessed in himself line OF
Celtic blood. Stephen was happy
His days were filed with strong drink
labor, and dreams.
The captain had read three books in
English, and ne now read them again,
aloud to his midshipman. They were
the Travels of Marco Polo" fathOm-
less. treatise on "The Art of Toxins,
and the Bhagavadgita. The pages of
these three-golden, fragrant, and ter
rible-were written afresh N the eager
listener He strove to conceal how
they bit his pride. He shaved at the
ropes with the yellow men, and Son1e'-
times laughed with them; but they
watched him with narrowed eyes and
a lowering of the chin, and even Done
gan at the stove practised more care
full ways in Stephens presence.
In the evenings there were tales OF
China and her deep, mad deserts.
Vague yet irresistible, these yellow
strands were drawing him to Mid
Asia. Loneliness stirred in his breast,
The voyage was an affair of MONTHS
gale-cut, but Stephen March had made
his own inner arrival.
But he was twenty when he reaches
the In-Shan mountains beyond the
China wall. The caravan had left,
him at the village khan, for they were
turning southwark to cross the HWang~
no and proceed upon the Ho-tau
plains, over a trail that might OEneA
have heard merchants whispeyings cEle'
news of Jesus. Here March wsaeedy'
having no gold. Then, With the' ur--
gent, mysterious summons still haunt
ing him, he was forced to turn his
back upon the desert, and return to-
Picking for money.
The English girl whom he married
in the square city of Picking fOGnd I'm
him the quality of lordship. They
prospered together,
When he was twenty-seven, ire went
again to the gap in the long Wall, iT
the north. He had camels and pro-
visions, and radiant heart. The un~
known treasure beckoned. A dim
remembered throne seemed whiting
out there But the sleeted storms of
winter came against him, and his
caravan diminished until the robbers
fell upon them and left their bodies for
the wolves when spring should come.
Only one other returned with Step1eH
March-his Chiney boy, who had gone
mad with desert fears.
The English wife was in mourning.
and a small child was learning to-
walk in the garden court of the Pc
king house. Then the three of Them
went to America, where Stephen found
much gold, and his Englishwoman had
less difficulty in teaching the mother
tongue to her son, Andrew.
She Ionged for her lords and their
ways-many of them long since turned
to quiet dust in some abbey-and the
spirit of England must have heard,
for she was taken into the bosom of
that assembly. Her death sharpened
the old desire in Stephen, and when
Andrew was sixteen, father and SoH
had journeyed together to the far city
of Peking and to the Great Wall anR
the plains of Ho-tau.
Andrew March had told Lexington
of that failure, so charged with beauty
and suffering-how the fierce heat OK
summer had withered the beasts; how
their inspired trail across the STsTd~
crusts and along the rim of gray pits
had been dotted with fallen men ana
camels. The traders had warned
them. and cursed their purpose, but
they had pressed on, away from the
trodden routes to north and SOUTH
straight into the west, always west
ward and to the north, until q party
of dusty horsemen had ridden them
down. robbed them, and turned them
back. Farley was useless. Andrews
father spoke a language they under
stood; yet they gave but one reply
Broken with defeat, the white man
and his son and two drivers returne6
to the village of Shan-sung. Their
camers eyes were black and loose
with coming death.
Andrew March, when ne was tnIfVyt
left his father in Picking, and started
westward with a summer caravan
His wife went with nina high-borD
Irish girl who refused to stay back.
Something in the great Cobb had mag
netized her. as well. Her lovers quest
was her own. She loved the twisty
old villages of the interior, loved the
fog over the millet fields, the peasants
who went about half dead with age
and disease, and she was ready to sing
when the sun came through upon the
dripping tiles of farmers cottage.
But she could not stop in the pleasant
lanes that wandered up from the
marshes Like Andrew, in whom she
believed, she was yearning for the
secret of the desert, though she could
give no reason. "In the world, we are
exiled," she had said, and possibly
she thought their exile would end If
they could find the heart of Mongolia
Through that memorable summer
H.. I,,-I