Evening Republican, Volume 17, Number 245, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 14 October 1913 — A SOLDIER'S ATONEMENT [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

A SOLDIER'S ATONEMENT

by Edward B. Clark

'<''«oy right, Weztern Newanaoer Union.! a T the time when the United States and Mexican governments made that temporary treaty which allowed the troops of either to invade the territory of the other jjLy when in the pursuit of hostile In- *"** dians fleeing across the border, James Tracy was a second lieutenant in the 19th cavalry. It W was during the height of ithe Geronimo trouble, and Tracy, >4 with his troop, dismounted, and after a soul and body wearying march on the ' trail of the wily Apache, found himself in the heart of one of the dreariest, most God-forsaken mountain countries in the whole range of the southern country. The troop was exhausted and practically without water, the men having not a drop to drink save what was in their canteens. They had cut, loose from a river in the early morning, expecting to find another when the day was done, but not as much as a rivulet had they found. There was no coffee that night and there wasn’t a light heart in the whole outfit. Tracy was unhappy. It wasn’t wholly his suffering condition and that of £is men which weighed upon him. 'Jtist before leaving the Arizona post he had received news that his younger brother, John, had been committed to ‘ state's prison in a far northeastern state. The officer had seen his home only once since his graduation. He had stayed away purposely, His brother had been a trusted bank employe. Then came suspicion, then conviction and a sentence. John Tracy protested his innocence of the crime charged against him, and his family, knowing the lad, believed in him, but the circumstantial evidence was overwhelming, and in spite of the efforts of the aged father, who spent his time and his money’ in the boy’s defense, he' went to prison. Before the troop had left Port Banks with its nose to the red-hot trail of Geronimo there had joined as an enlisted man a strapping young officer who said that he came from St. Louis. His name was Barlow, and he was assigned to the troop of which Tracy was the Junior officer, and he went with it on its chase across the border after the Apache chieftain. Barlow on every occasion possible attached himself to Tracy’s person. Whenever there was a scouting party detached from the main body and put under the second lieutenant’s command Barlow asked that he might be assigned to it to share in the scouting duty. He was a reserved fellow and apparently of superior education. There were no camp jokes for him. He was grave and taciturn. Tracy had noticed the evident attachment of the man to him, and as he was a capable soldier and willing to dare and to do anything $e was glad to have him a part of his outfit when on detached and dangerous service. . ” On the morning following the night that the . troop was practically without water and in a country devoid of all green things save the forbidding cactus, the troop commander told Tracy that he had better make a short reconnolssance, feel out the country for the enemy and, above all, try to locate water. To attempt a march under that hot Mexican sun with the men, and with any idea of effective service, was foolhardy. Tracy told his captain that he would take but one man with him; that they would strike southwest, where it was thought a better prospect of water lay, and that they would return as soon as a find was made. He selected Barlow for his companion, and the two dtruck out through the black, Bun-seared country. They went on for three hours. Not a drop of the element of which they were in search. Their tongues were, blistered. They drank sparingly of the abater in their canteens, pressed on for another hour and then knew that they must return. Back they started. They followed their onward trai| as well as they could, but at times it was lostt and then circling was necessary to take it up again. At noon they lost it and could not find it again. There was a great jagged rock rising to the westward which neither recognized. "Lieutenant,” said Barlow, “we’re going wrong. We never came this way. The sun doesn’t bear right It should be more to our right. I.believe that we are going almost directly at right angles to the camp.” They circled again and again, but no trace of the trail. Then the conclusion forced itself on Tracy that they were lost. They wandered nn until the sun went down beyond the black rocks. Then they each drank sparingly of the precious contents of the canteens, and lay down on the gray desert to sleep. The sun came up like a red-hot round shot. Tracy and Barlow ate the last of their single ration, and took one swallow of water apiece. Then on they went again. Twenty-four hours passed. The sun came ufc once more, and with its coming they staggered forward. The canteens were empty. They looked for the cactus whose leaf yields a juice that helps fight off the demon of thirst. They could not find it. The only vegetation were occasional clumps of stunted prickly pear cactus, the Juice of whose leaves accentuates thirst. Another twenty-four hours. The men cheered each other on like the soldiers they were. Tracy began to feel the coming of delirium. Oh, for a draught of water! He looked at Barlow. The man’s eyes were burning, but they had a courage in them, and something else in their depths which Tracy never before had seen there. On and on and on. They could go no further. S«ddenly Barlow turned to Tracy and said in a voice that was choked from the clutching of thirst’s hand at his throat: "Lieutenant, I was afraid that we might be tempeted to drink this long ago, so I saved it foir the last extremity. Lieutenant, I have one good drink of water apieoe hffk w oanteea*

Barlow shook the canteen, and Tracy heard the splash of the water within. “Drink, Barlow,”t. said Tracy. “Drink; you saved it and it should be yours. Drink, drink it, I say. *lt may give you strength to go on. If you get back, boy, and the men strike water, ask them to come after my body.” Tracy was reeling. His brain was awhirl and his whole system on fire. “Lieutenant,” said Barlow, “I had more In my canteen than you had In yours when we Btarted. Men in an extremity like this should share and share alike. I’ll take my-cup and we’ll divide th* water.” “Is there enough for the two and to do any good?” &ske<| Tracy. “Yes,” said Barlow, "one good drink for each.” "Drink first,” said Tracy. "I’ll not touch a drop until my command is served." "All right, sir,” said Barlow. Tracy turned away for a moment. He heard the gurgle of water. Would It never come his turn to drink? Barlow spoke: “Lieutenant, I’m afraid I took more than half. Here is what’s left.” He poured the water gurgling from the canteen Into the 'cpp. There was a good round drink. “Take f it, lieutenant,” said Barlow. “I had more than that” Tracy seized the cup and drained it. Oh, the Joy of it! New life went surging through him. His eyes cleared- He looked at Barlow. There was no new life In the man’s eyes. His lip was drooping. “Barlow,” said Tracy fiercely, “you deceived mo. You never drank a drop.”

Something like a smile came into Barlow h face. “Forgive me, lieutenant,” he said, "but there was only enough for one.” And then he staggered and fell forward. Tracy caught him in his arms, and, weak though he was, managed to support hia burden. “Lieutenant,” whispered Barlow, “go on. You are strong enough and may reach camp. If you do, Just come back and bury me here." Then the man drew his officer’s head close to him and whispered something. Barlow almost let fall his burden- “Yes, it’s true. I was the guilty ine and your brother was innocent and a sacrifice. Take this,” and he drew a paper from his blduse and put it in Tracy’s hand. “Forgive me, lieutenant,” he said, and as he spoke his empty canteen swung from his side and struck agalnxt Tracy’s knee. “Forgive you? Yes, Barlow,” he said. Th* enlisted man looked up, smiled and died. Tracy let hjs burden gj&ntly to the earth, and then he pressed >n, for now there was an added life in his veins and an added interest in living. He reached the top of the ridge and looked down The camp was below him. Not the o’d camp but the old troop and a new camp and by the bank of a stream. Refreshed with food, sleep and the yet more precious water, Tracy recovered. The paper which Barlow had given him contained proof of his brrther*s innocence. Tracy led a squad back to th* point where he had left Barlow. They found Ms body. There was peace in the man’s face, fie was given a soldier’s burial, and on the little wilderness grave Lieutenant Tracy planted a biros* and a little, fluttering flag.