Democratic Press, Volume 2, Number 59, Decatur, Adams County, 28 November 1895 — Page 11

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adobe houses of the Mexican rancheros, the great black bowlders and monuments of lava rock across the stream, set In beds of mesquite bushes and cactus, far away to the eastward the bold towering peaks of the San Andreas and Oscura ranges, to the southward the Fra Cristolwl and to the westward the Magdalena and the San Mateo ranges of mountains, all contribute to a picture so fascinating in its rugged grandeur and beauty that it would seem ns mockery for the most gifted artist to presume to transfer its details to canvas. All of the buildings of this remote border garrison were built of adobes, or sun-dried bricks of Mexican manufacture, officers' quarters, l>arracks for the enlisted men, storehouses, stables, etc., being but one story in height. Around the post ran a line of earthworks thrown up during the civil war when Indian and confederate foe alike coveted its possession. The buildings formed a hollow square around a level parade ground some twenty acres in extent, and in the center during the Occupancy of the fort stood a tall flagstaff from the top of which, every day in the year from sunrise to sunset gun, the stars and stripes floated proudly in the Mmi-tropical breezes. At the time of which I write the fort was garrisoned by four troops of cavalry. two companies of infantry and a battery of light artillery. The commanding officer, Col. Elmore Sanford, was a dignified, gruff old veteran who had grown gray in the service of his country, a strict disciplinarian who exacted with unflinching severity the performance of every duty from offleers and men alike with promptness and precision Every infraction of military rules met with swift punishment, whether the offender wore the goldlaced uniform of the officer or the plain garb of the private soldier. He possessed a volcanic temper, at times, when angered, storming and swearing like a madman, then as quickly subsiding into his usual state of icy dignity. Those most familiar with his moods met these fltxul outbursts of passion with no thought of resentment, for C? Aj —w. FORT CRAIG. they knew the old man never meant the half he said, and that beneath his forbidding exterior rested a soul that was really warm and generous. The light of the old commander's military home was his daughter Alice, his only child, who came us a ray of sunshine Into his life but a week before the death of his beloved wife. At > the time our story opens Alice was a lovely, sunny-faced little fairy of eighteen, full of life and spirit, as beautiful in her blonde loveliness as the lily bursting from its bud. She was devotedly attached to her stern old father, who, in her society, laid aside his air of military dignity vnd allowed the reflection of his really kind heart to play in genial smiles over his soldierly face. He idolized the lovely girl, the last priceless gift from his dying wife, and to contribute to her happiness and enjoyment seemed to be the one leading aim of his life. The best instructors which money could secure had been brought from the far-away east to look after her instruction, and when she reached her eighteenth year her education in all necessary branches waa complete, and she possessed as fine accomplishments as she could have secured in any academy in the land. Born in a border military fort and reared in the garrisons of the far west, she became imbued with the spirit of adventure incident to frontier life, and was never ■o happy as when dashing over the cactus studded plain or woixled river bottom on her strong-limbed pony or exploring the gulches and canyons cleft in the breasts of the adjacent mountains.

The picture of this young border princess was indelibly stamped upon the hearts of several of the younger officers of the garrison, yet none of them were suitors for her hand. They knew how her father idolised her and held her as a precious Jewel act in his crown of life for him alone, and each one felt that it would be almost sacrilege to attempt to pluck the gem from its parent setting ami transfer it to another. She had. seemingly, no especial favorite among the young men of the post. The same sweet smile which would set the heart of a young officer throbbing with delight would illumine her pretty features while bending over the cot of a sick soldier in the hospital, or while thanking the humblest private who had done her a favor. She treated all alike, and came to be looked upon as a treasure which all might admire but none need ever hope to possess—a devoted child whose father so filled every mx>k of her pure heart that there was no room there for another. One lovely morning in the month of Septemlier. 1 stiff, while returning from a gallop down the valley of the Rio Grande, Miss Sanford rode up a gulch onto the meta about a mile below the fort. As she came out upon the higher ground she observed a young soldier sitting upon a rock near the trail busily engaged in sketching. She was herself a clever artist and passionately fond of drawing from nature, and her interest in the soldier was at once aroused. He had not noticed her approach, so deeply interested was he in his work, and she reined in her pony a few yards distant from where he sat to study him. There was a pleased expression on her face when she noted that he was a handsome young man with a frank, honest face, neat and tidy in dress, and wearing an air of inA A jr. jb .Ji* '" fc ' ALICE, THE COLONEL'S DAUGHTER, tellectual refinement which seemed sadly out of place in one whose lot was cast among the rough soldiers of the ranks. It must be remembered that I write of the days just following the close of our great civil war, when the ranks of the regular army on the frontier were made up of rough, illiterate men largely fished from the slums of the eastern cities, many of them having fled to the west and buried themselves in the army under assumed names to escape the consequences of crime. Alice Sanford had neverdreamed the barracks of the private soldiers sheltered a man of artistic tastes, and the spectacle presented of a soldier wielding the pencil of the artist was to her a revelation. The soldier becoming aware of her presence glanced up from his work, and, noting that it was the daughter of the commanding officer who had approached him, quickly arose to his feet, removed his cap and silently waited for her to address him should she desire to do so. “I am sorry I disturbed you,” she said. “Will you permit me to look at the sketch you are making?" “It is as yet far from complete,” he quietly responded, "and I fear you may not be able to form an intelligent idea of what its appearance will be when the details are filled in. I began it but an hour ago.” He handed her the picture, and she sat for some moments closely studying It, occasionally casting her eyes across the iuterveu.ig desert to the Fra Criatobel range. “You have chosen a beautiful study,” she finally said. "In my eyes the Fra Cristobel is the most attractive of all the ranges which surround us.” "I experience great pleasure in sketching it," he replied. “This will be my third sketch of the range, and I seem to never tire of tracing its bold outlines and copying its rugged details of rock and pine." Returning the picture, with a simple “thank you," she rode homeward. She allowed her pony to walk slowly along the trail and did not even chide him for stopping occasionally to snatch a mouthful of grasses he loitered along, so busy were her thoughts with the humble private soldier whom she had just left. She hud seen in the yet crude sketch the work of a master hand, and she wondered why It was that one so gifted should be wearing the uniform and performing the duties of a soldier.U His manner was that of the polished gentleman, his speech refined and pleasing, and his general demeanor was widely different from that of any of the other soldiers with whom she had been brought in contact. What could a man of his attainments be doing in the ranks of the army? The

pOKT CRAIG, in 1 the territory of New Mexico, stands upon a high mesa, or ) piece of table ) land, overlook- > ing the historic valley of the Rio G ra n de. s The view from i the fort is ' wildly picturesque. The long stretch of river, grass - carpeted valley dotted with groves of cotton wood trees, the low

question flushed through her brain, but no reply followed In Its wake. A frown swept over her face, but as quickly vanished ala rebuking thought. “O, no, not crime," she mused. "Those clear eyes of his mirrored a clear soul. Hu must not be clasaod with those who lurk in the shadow of enlistment to escape the searching eye of justice. There is a romance strewn along his trail of life. There miul be. Perhaps It waa an affair of the heart. Yes, that must bo the correct solution of the queer problem. Some cruel fair one In the far-away cast, of which I have read but never seen, has crushed his happiness and he tied to the army ranks hoping to most death at the hands of an Indian foeman. How conld a girl be so cruel to so handsome a man, and one so intelligent and refined?” Thus she mused until she reached her home. Throwing the rein to the orderly In waiting she softly entered her father's sitting-room and awoke him from the half sleep into which he had fallen In his easy chair by a feathery kiss on the cheek. “Well, Sunshine, did you enjoy your ride?" he asked, drawing her to a scat on his knee and more forcibly returning her kiss. "O, very much, papa. I rede clear down to the Tafoya ranch six miles below, and on my way back I found such a curi<»sity." “You are eternally picking up curios. What waa it this time? A morn agate, a new species of cactus, a rare flower that you never happened to come onto before, or a magnificently large horned toad?" “0, no, papa, none of those. I could never place this one with my collection. It is not of the geological, floral nor reptile species, papa; but a living, moving, breathing—human being.” “A Mexican freak, eh? And what was it like?" “No, nor was it a Mexican. You are a horribly poor guesser, papa. It was a soldier, a private soldier of the post. I came upon him while he was sketching the Fra Cristobel range, and when I asked if I might look at his sketch I reallyexpected tosee nothing but awkward, ill-shaped work. You can imagine my surprise when I observed that he was an artist of no ordinary skill. Oh! there must be vuM a romance connected with his life. Have ; you ever discovered men of refined tastes in the ranks, papa, driven there by romantic causes?" "Yes, the romance of crime. The service and an assumed name have served as a barrier between many a criminal and the outraged lawa Who is this fellow?" “O, I am sure this man is not a criminal. papa. You would share that belief with me were you to see him. I spoke but a few words with him, and did not ask his name. He wore the cavalry uniform.” | “Well, Sunshine, it is not at all improbable that if his past history were laid before you, you would find it a dark one. You must not allow your romantic little brain to picture him a prince in disguise. Come, dinner is waiting, and I am as hungry as a trooper after a hard day’s scout. Attention, squad! Right face! Forward, march!” Gayly trilling the air of "Thu Girl I Left Behind Me” she led the way with military step to the dining-room, the old colonel marching after her with the precision of other days. CHAPTER IL The soldier artist resumed his seat as Alice rode away, and sat and watched her until a bend In the trail hid her from his eyes. He had often seen the young girl at a distance and had admired her graceful figure and light, springy step, but had never before had an opportunity to closely observe her face. As she sat on her pony bowed over his sketch he had studied her features, and he thought he had never seen so beautiful a girl. Her sunny disposition flashed softly from her laughing blue eyes, and the lingering echoes of her low, sweet voice resounded in his ears in pleasing melody long after she had gone. There was a marked stir in the social circles of the garrison when an official communication from the war Sh’ \ THE SOLDIER ARTIST RESUMED HIS SEAT, department to the commanding officer advised him that Mr. Alfred Talbott Vandever, a recent graduate from West Point, had been commissioned a second lieutenant and assigned to B troop, Sixth cavalry, then stationed at Fort Craig. Lieut. Vandever was coming under orders to report to CoL Sanford for duty. Ata border military post the officers and their families live in a little world of their own. The social circle at one of these remote garrisons may best be described as a military family, the members of which are drawn into close relationship by isolation from the great busy world to the eastward. Within the limits of this circle the strongest ties of friendship are formed, and the frequent social parties which serve as oases to break the monotony in the desert of garrison life seem more as family gatherings than fashionable affairs. A brotherly and sisterly feeling exists among the officers and ladies whose lot is cast so far away from the borders of civilization, and when by

that Immovable decree, a military order, an offioer i» transferred to a distant post the departure of himself and family, If he be married, creates a break in the family circle which Is as sincerely mourned as would be the departure for a far distant point of a member of a home circle In private life. The remaining members of a military family suffer a sense of bereavement which cun scarcely be conceived by those not familiar with garrison life, an<l the departure of a member is aa alnccrely mourned as if bound to those to whom ho blds an indefinite farewell by ties of blood. A prospective addition to the military family la always a matter of much comment. When the accession Is to lie that of an officer of more or less service In the field, his coining is looked forward to with great pleasure, for In almoat, if not quite, every instance he will l>e known to some of the officers at the post. In some of the labyrinthine movements of the great army machine they have been thrown together at different posts, then separated by the official order and sent, unmurmuring, to meet the exigencies of the service at widely separated points. When it lx announced at a post that Capt. and Mrs. Sinclair are to be stationed there, those who have never met the expected arrivals are enlightened as to their personal appearance, traits of character and social attainments by those who have been with them at other posts, and the officer and his lady are received with as warm recognition by those who have never before seen them as by their friends of old. But it is different when the announcement is made that a newly created officer will s«M>n knock for admission into the garrison family. He will come as a stranger to all. Tt.ose officers who themselves in turn stepped from the door of the academy at West Point into the field of active service as the expected newcomer is about to do, are well aware of the mild form of torture which awaits them. They know that Mr. Graduate will burst upon their vision clad in natty attire which the purifying breezes have not yet had time to purge of the odor of the tailor shop. He will not have been in the garrison a day ere his trunks will have been emptied of their contents. and the love trophies they contain exhibited to the seemingly patient group who sit meekly listening to the pretty young man as he boasts of his conquests in the rosy field of love. They will smile serenely as his velvety tongue purls on, and the time-dimmed canvas of their own memory brightens and presents for their edification the day when they, too, came gliding into the service arena In the same state of Innocent insanity. They will not tell him so in words, but will mentally say to him: “A sad case, a very sad case, my dear boy, but you will get over it. Just a little campaigning, a little of the hardship incident to border military life will wear the academy glitter from you, and you will develop in time into a man of more sturdy mold whose aspirations will crave something more substantial than the melody of a softly sung love ditty or the giggling smile of a simpering schoolgirl. Those withered bouquets bearing the distinguishing names of Rose and Blanche and Agnes and Katie and other fair uniform worshipers now so precious to you, will soon find lodgment in the coal scuttle; those daintily perfumed notes will go upward in the smoke of the grate; the oft-kissed photos will lie neglected in your trunk in the storeroom, and the memory of the dear butterflies who cared little for you, but who loved to flutter around your gray uniform and hurl glances of defiance at pouting rivals, will be but as a hazy dream, which you will not in your maturer sense care for memory to produce in too strong coloring. You will not be so fastidious in dressing for the saddle and the field as you were in dressing for the ballroom, or to keep an appointment with the latest ‘plump quail' who hud fallen a victim to your military air and brass buttons. Enjoy your trophies while you may, my boy, for stern duty will soon bid you shake off the aspect of the beau and don the more earnest air of the soldier.” Lieut. Vandever came, and was at once located in bachelor quarters and listed for duty. Capt. and Mrs. Colby, as the oldest in point of residence at the post, announced a reception in honor of the new officer, and on the evening designated the parlor of the Colby quarters was well filled with officers and ladies. Lieut. Vandever was introduced to all, and was cordially welcomed into the society of the garrison. He proved to be a quite handsome young gentleman, and hail brought with him a smile which had no doubt played sad havoc with maidenly hearts at the alma mater on the historic Hudson, yet beneath the surface there seemed to lurk an imperious, tyrannical, if not cruel nature, which the smiling face could not entirely conceal. He was studiously polite in his demeanor toward the ladies and endeavored to be a “hail fellow well met” among the gentlemen, but a sort of repellant glance which at times shot from his eyes went far toward smothering the warmth with which both gentlemen and ladies would have gladly welcomed him. Alice was at the party and was exquisitely lovely in her dress of purest white. She was the especial idol of the ladies of the garrison, and there was more than one dissatisfied look on the more matronly faces when it was observed that Vandever seemed to be greatly smitten with her charming presence and grace of manner. He was devoted in his attentions to the fair girl, so much so, in fact, that his assiduity really annoyed her, and to escape him she excused herself at the earliest moment consistent with politeness and went to her home. The young officer evidently classed Alice in the same category with the frivolous young ladies without whose presence life at West Point Would have to him been unendurable. His vanity told him that while the girl with modest instinct treated him shyly at the

first meeting she could not long resist his charms, and would soon listen to his protestations of alleged love nr rapturously as a score of girls had done during his cadetship. Hence, at their every future meeting he aimed his every shaft of wit, eloquence, compliment and flattery at the citadel of her young heart, and was really surprised at her failure to open wide Its gate and bid him enter as its conqueror. She treated him with marked politeness at all times, yet in her heart wisited that their mi-ctlnga might lie as the visits of angels in the olden adage. It was not long Wore it began to lie whispered alxmt that Lieut. Vandever was tyrannical and imperiously lordly in his treat incut of the men who came under his supervision when ho served as officer of the guard, and hud been at times insulting in his relatione with the men of his own troop in the quarters. No complaints were made, however, and the rumors were lightly treated until one day Sergt. Barrett, an old trooper who hud grown gray in the service, went to headquarters and asked for an Interview with the commanding officer. His request was promptly granted, for CoL Sanford was always accessible to the men under him. The old sergeant entered the office, and removing his cap and saluting the commander stood like a statue awaiting permission to speak. “What is it, sergeant?" the colonel asked. “Sir, I have been a soldier for more than twenty years, and this is the first time 1 have ever made a complaint. I M l\ VANDEVER SEEMED TO BE GREATLY SMITTEN. would have gone to the captain of my troop, but he is absent from post on a hunt, and the officer of whom I would complain is temporarily in command of the troop. Ido not think, sir, there is a man in the service who feels more respect for his superior officers than I do, or who is more prompt at recognizing their rank than I when I meet them. Lieut. Vandever came into the quarters an hour ago jffist as I was leaving the room, and I saluted him as was my duty. A moment later I was standing on the porch just outside the door when he came out, and I assumed the position of n soldier and waited for him to pass. No officer who has been any length of time in the service would have desired or expected a repetition of my salute, but the lieutenant stepped up and shook his fist at me and roughly said: “ ‘What do you mean, fellow? Do you know who I am? Why do you not salute me?' “I tried to explain to him, but he crossly told me to shut up, and said he would teach me the respect due an officer. He then placed me under arrest. Sir, I served as a private soldier for six years and was never in the guardhouse as a prisoner, and during my fourteen years’ service as a non-commissioned officer I have never until now been under arrest, and it hurts me, sir. He humbled me before some of the men of my,troop, but I don’t mind that so much as the disgrace he has fastened to me.” “Is that all that passed between you, sergeant?” “That is all, sir. The lieutenant used some language that he would be ashamed to use toward a soldier of my service after he has been in the army awhile, but I do not complain of that. I wish the disgrace of arrest wiped from my long record, sir, that is all.” “If it will in any manner soothe your wounded feelings, sergeant, I will say to you that I have known you for a long time and have always regarded you as a model soldier. You can go to your quarters. 1 will look into the matter.” The sergeant saluted and retired, and an orderly was dispatched to summon Lieut. Vandever to headquarters. The young officer had from his window seen the sergeant leave the office, and instinctively felt that his unwarranted action had been reported to the colonel. He entered the commander’s presence with a timid air, and seated himself in a chair pushed toward him. “Lieutenant, you have placed Sergt. Barrett of your troop under arrest.” “Yes, sir, for showing me disrespect.” “In what manner?” “He failed to salute mewhen I passed him, and retorted when I reprimanded him." “Had he not saluted you in a proper and respectful manner but a moment before?" “Yes, sir, but then I was entering the quarters. He did not recognize me when I came out any more than he would have done one of his own companions. ” “In what language did he retort when you reprimanded him?” “He endeavored to excuse himself for —his—his -his breach of military discipline. His words were respectful, sir, but the expression on his face was not." “A look of'pain’at the unmerited disgrace you had inflicted on him, or one of contempt?” “Contempt, sir. Unmistakable contempt.” “Out of respect for your rank, Lieut. Vandever, the sergeant should have tried to hide his feelings. I wish to say to you, sir, that Sergt. Barrett

was ii tried and true soldi r when you were a puling Infant In your mother's arms. I hove known him for many years, and In all of his long and faithful service tills Is the first blot ever cast on Ids record. He is a ■man fitted by education and long service to fill a position al>ovc the one you now occupy. Sergt Barrett is a soldier who la not at all lacking In respect for hia superiors in rank. Were Ito meet him and receive and acknowledge his salute and on turning around he should salute me again, I would think he had l>ecn drinking, air, and would pardon hia excessive manifestation of respect on that ground. I believe I have nothing more to say to you, str, further than that your hasty order placing thia man under arrest must be instantly revoked." Stung to the quick at thia official rebuke, the lieutenant sought his quarters. An order was at once aent to the non-commissioned officer annulling the verbal order of arrest, and directing him to report to the first sergeant of hia troop for duty. Lieut Vandever and Miaa Sanford frequently met, and it did not take the young officer long to learn that any attention shown her outside the liounda of ordinary politeness and courtesy would be met with marked displeasure. He was really desperately In love with the beautiful girl, and did not despair of arousing in her heart a responsive emotion; but her attitude toward him told him all too plainly tnat he could never gain her favor through the medium of light flattery and gallant attention which had proved eo effective tn transitory love affairs at “The Point." He soon ceased to force his attentions upon her, and tried to be content to wait and hope. He felt that his charm of manner was irresistible—dozens of girls had told him so in moonlight wanderings—and he did not doubt that at some future day the fair girl would strike her colors and capitulate. CHAPTER 111. A few days after their first meeting, while the soldier artist was near the same spot making a sketch of Mount Soledad, a prominent peak of the San Andreas range, Alice came upon him again. Long before she reached the spot where he sat she had seen him bending over his work. With girlish impulsiveness she determined to endeavor to learn something of him, and rode directly up to him. “If I disturb you, you must frankly tell me so and I will go away,” she said. “I sketch a great deal myself, and naturally take a deep interest in an art I love so well." “You do not disturb me in the least. Miss Sanford," he replied. “As but a private soldier I deem it an honor that the daughter of my commander should take an interest in my poor efforts. And you, also, are of artistic tastes? Do you not find rare subject matter for your pencil in this wildly beautiful country?” “0, yes, indeed I do. I have many sketches I have made about the fort, and many more from rarely beautiful spots in the mountain ranges herealtouts. You are sketching Soledad, I sec. May I look at it?" “It is scarcely started yet," he replied, “but as you are an artist I need not point out to you what it lacks to complete it.” She gazed upon the picture with great interest, for every bold stroke of the pencil and every delicate shade proclaimed a master’s hand. For some moments she stood in rapt admiration, her lips parted and her bright expressive eyes drinking in every detail of the young artist’s work. “Your work is that of the finished artist,” she said. “Where did you learn this?” “At my home in a far eastern state. I developed a taste for drawing when but a child, and every facility for advancement in the art was placed at my disposal. In both drawing and painting I had the best instructors to be found in the country." “And now you are—” ('Io be Continued f>ert B r eek)

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