Evening Republican, Volume 22, Number 266, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 4 November 1919 — Page 2

The Devil’s Own

A ROMANCE OF THE BLACK HAWK WAR

"The Devil’s Own” is a stirring tale of the stirring frontier days of the middle West—of the Mississippi river in the exciting times of the Black Hawk war of the early thirties. This is the famous Indian war In which Zachary Taylor and Abraham Lincoln, future presidents of the United States, and Jefferson Davis, future president of the Confederacy, all took part. On the Indian side were Black Hawk and Keokuk, two strong and able Indian chiefs—one the bitter enemy of the White Man, the other his consistent friend. The characters are typical of the time and the place—Knox, the hero, army officer; Beaucaire, the aristocratic planter and slave-owner, and his fascinating daughter; Kirby (The Devil’s Own) gambler and desperartn- And interwoven with it all is the slavery question. Randall Parrjsh. the author, is one of the popular writers of the day He knows the country and the time. And he gives us action, always action. Love, fighting and adventure—all are in this tale in generous measure. T"> :

CHAPTER I. t “-t"~ At Old - Fort Armstrong. It was the early spciiigtltne.andmy history tells me the year was’lS32, although now that seems so far away 1 almost hesitate to write the date. 11 appears surprising that through the haze of all those intervening years—intenbely active years with me —I should now be able to recall so clearly the twite of that far-off morning of my youth, and depict in memory each minor detail. Yet, as you read on, and rye lire ymi rse.lft.lie. e.v cuts resulting from that idle moment, yon -may be-tftbtefu comprehend the ih'cp_ lmpry«sion left upon my mind, which nd cycle of time could ever erase. I was barely twenty then, a strong, almost headstrong boy, and the Tar wilderness was still very new to me, although for two years past I had held army commission and been assigned to duty in frontier forts. Yet never previously had I been stationed at quite so isolated an outpost of civilization as was this combination of rock and log defense erected at' the southern extremity of Hock Island, fairly marooned amid the sweep of the great river, with Indian-haunted land Stretching for leagues on every side. A mere handful of troops was quartered there, technicftTly two~cornpaTTies of infantry, yet numbering barely enough for one; and this in spite of rumors daily drifting to us tlm* the Sacs and Foxes, with their main village just below, were already becoming restless and warlike, inflamed by the slow approach of white settlers into the valley of the Rock. Indeed, eo short was the garrison of officers, that the harassed commander had ventured to retain me for field service.-in spite of’the fact that I was detailed to staff duty, had borne dispatches up the Mississippi from General Gaines and expected to return again by the first boat , The morning’ was one of deep-blue sky and bright sunshine. As soon as early drill ended I had left the fort enclosure and sought a lonely perch on the great rock above the mouth of the cave. Below, extended a magnificent river, fully a mile wide frprn shore to shore, unbroken in its vast _ sweep toward the sea except for a few small willow-studded islands a mile or fwo away, .Oyer u. jre,~ to the .nwß*. shadow of the Rock Valley, was where Black Hawk, dissatisfied, revengeful. dwelt with his British■ band, gathering swiftly about him the younger, lighting warriors of every tribe his influ-

He Had Been at the Fort but Two Days Before, a Tali, Straight, Taciturn Indian.

ence could reach. He had been at the fort but two days before, a tail, straight, taciturn Ifidian; no chief by birth, yet a born leader of men, defiant in speech and Insolent of demeanor in spite of the presence also at the council of his people’s true representative, the silent, cautious Keokuk.. Even with my small knowledge of «iich things it was plain enough to be «een there existed deadly hatred between these two, and that Keokuk’s desire for peace with the whites alone postponed an outbreak., Already/ tales reached us of encroaching settlers advancing along the valley, and of sawage, retaliating raids which could only terminate in signed encounters. That

Keokuk could continue to control his people no longer sebmed probable to me, for the Hawk was evidently the Stronger character of the two, possessed the larger following and made ho attempt to conceal the depth of his hatred for all things American. Down below where I sat a little river steamboat was tied to the wharf, a dingy stern-wheeler, with the word •‘Warrior" painted across the pilot house. My eyes and thoughts turned that way. Standing alone together near the stern wore a heavily-built man -with white hutr aniTTiCarilr and a younger, rather slender fellow, with clipped, black mustache Roth were unusually well dressed, the latter exceedingly natty mid fashionable in attire, rather overfy so, I thought, while the former wore a long coat and high white stock. Involuntarily I had placed .them.-m my mind river gamblers.but was st HI observing their move-, nients with some curiosit} 7 when Captain Throckmorton crossed the gangplank and began ascending the steep bluff. The path to be followed led directly past where I was .sitting and, recognizing me, he stopped to exchange greetings. " W hat I have you-finished you r day’s work already, lieutenant?" ‘he exclaimed pleasantly ‘‘Mine has. only just begun.” “So I observe. It was garrison talk last night that the Warrior was to depart at daylight." “That was tiie plan. However, the Wandbrer went north during the night,” he explained, “and brought mail from below, so we are being held for the return letters. I am going up to the office now.” My eyes returned to the scene below. - ~ “You have some passengers aboard.” “A few; picked up several at the lead mines, besides those aboard from Prairie du Chien." “Evidently all -of your passengers are not miners, captain,” I ventured. “Those two standing there at the stern, for instance.” He turned and looked. “No.” he said; “that big man is Judge Beaucaire, from Missouri. He has a plantation just above St. Louis, an old French riant. Of course vou know the younger one.” . "Never saw him before." •, “Then you have never traveled much on the lower river. That’s Joe Kirby.” ' "Joe Kirby?” “Certainly ; you, must have heard of him. First time I ever knew of his drifting so far north, as there are not many pickings updiere., Have rather suspected he might be laying for Beaucaire, but the two haven't touched a Card coming down.” “He is a gambler, then?” ■

“A thoroughbred: works between St Louis and New Orleans. I can't just figure out yet what he is doing up here.. J asked, him fiat out, but lie only JaWghed,. ami fie you get very friendly with, some say .he has.. Indian blood in him, so I dropped it. • He and the Judge seem pretty thick, and they may be playing in their rooms. See you again before we leave ; am going up now to have a talk with the major.” My eyes followed as he disappeared within the open gates, a squatty, strongly built figure, the blue smoke from his pipe circling in a cloud above his head. Then I turned idly to gaze once again down the river and observe the groups loitering below. Assuredly it was none of my affair, and yet a certain curiosity caused me to observe the movements of the two so long as they remained on deck. However, it was but a short while before both retired to the cabin, and then my gage returned once more to the sullen sweep of water, while my thoughts drifted far away. A soldier was within a few feet of me and had spoken before I wks even aware of his approach.

“Lieutenant Knox.” I looked-about quickly, recognizing the major’s orderly. - • "Yes, what Is it?” “Major Bliss requests, sir, that you report at his office atopce." Wondering what might be desired of. me, yet with no conception of the reality, I followed after the orderlythrough the stockade gate, and across the small parade ground toward the

THE EVENING REPUBLICAN? RENSSELAER, IND.

more pretentious structure- occupied by the officers of the A number of soldiers off duty were loitering in front of the barracks, while a small group of officers occupied chairs on the log porch of their quarters, enjoying the warmth of the sun. I greeted these as I passed, conscions that their eyes followed me CUas I approached the commandsnt’s office. Major Bliss glanced up at my entrance, with deep-set eyes Jddden beneath bushy gray eyebrows, his smooth-shaven face appearing almost youthful in contrast with a wealth of gray hair. •’•How long have. y«u been here at Armstrong, lieutenant?” he questioned, toying with tin official-looking paper in ills hands. “tody about three weeks, sir. I came north on the Enterprise, with dispatches from General Gaines." "I remember; you belong to the Fifth, ;rnd without orders. I promptly dragooned you into garrison servicer” His eyes laughed. “Only sorry I cannot hold you any longer. Jt seems you huvo an application pen ding for arfurlough.” “Yes. sir'.” "It is my pleasure to inform you that it has been granted—sixty days, with permission to proceed east. There has .bei ii lonsiderable delay evidently. "in locating youJl ... A sudden vision arose before me of -my—mother's face and of the old homeamong the hills took the paper Irion hts ■extended hands and glanced at the printed and written lines. “The date is a month ago.” “That need not trouble you, Knox. The furlough begins with this delivi r>. Hou i'ver, tis I shall require your services as far as St. Lottis, I shall date this acceptance from the time of your arrival there.” ,

"Whieh is very kind. Sir.” “Not at all. You have proven of considerable” assistance here, and I Shall part from you with regret. I have letters for Governor Clark of Missouri and Goverjtor Reynolds of Illinois ; also one to General Atkinson nr Jefferson barracks, detailing my vlews on the present Indian situation. These are confidential, and I hesitate to intrust them to the regular mail service. 1 had intended sending them down river in charge of a noncommissioned officer, Init shall now utilize your services instead—That is if you are willing to assume their care?” “Very gladly, of.course.” “I thought as much. Each of these is to be delivered in person. Captain Throckmorton informs me that he will be prepared to depart within an hour. You can be ready in that time?” I smiled. “In much less. I have little with me but a field kit. sir. It will not require long to pack that.”

“Then return here at the first whistle and the. letters will be ready for you. That w ill be all Civilian if you please, lieutenant, but 1 suggest it will be well to wear the uniform of your rank when you deliver the letters.” , - Fifteen minutes sufficed to gather together * all my belongings and change' from blue into’gray, and, as I emerged from quarters, the- officers of the garrison flocked about me with words of congratulation and innumerable questions. ..Universal envy of my good fortune was evident, but this assumed no unpleasant form, although much was said to express their belief in my early return. 1 shook hands all around, and left them, hastening across the parade to the,_ ofii.ee. Ten. minutes later I crossed the gangplank and put foot for the first tithe on the deck of the Warrior. Evidently the crew- had been awaiting my arrival to push off. for instantly the whistle shrieked again, and Jim churn its way out into the river current, with .bow .pointing down stream. Throckmorton leaned out from the open window of the pilot house and hailed me. , v-

“Put your dunnage in the third cabin. Knox—here, you, Sam, lay hold and help.” It was nothing to boast of, that third cabin, being a menMhole. measuring possibly about four' feet by seven, but sufficient for sleeping quarters. and was reasonably clean. It failed, however, in attractiveness sufficient to keep me below-, and as soon as I had deposited my bag and indulged in a somewhat captious scrutiny of the bedding I very willingly returned to the outside and clambered up a steep ladder to the. upper deck. Judge Beaucaire was. standing at the low rail. Our eyes met inquiringly, and be bowed with all the ceremony of the old school. “A new passenger on board, I think, sir,” and his deep, resonant voice left a pleasant impression. "You must have joined our company at Fort Armstrong?” - “Your supposition is correct,” I answered, some peculiar constraint preventing me from referring to my military rank. “My name is Knox, and. I have been about the island for a fewweeks. I beiieve you are Judge Beauckibe of Missouri?” He . wgs a splendidly proportioned

of shoulders and strong individual face, yet hearing unmistakable signs of dissipation, together with numerous marks of both care and age. “T fool the honor of your recognition, sir.” he said with dignify. “Knox, I believe you said? Of the Knox family at Cape Girardeau, may I inquire?” “No connection to my knowledge; my home was at Wheeling.” “Ah I I have never been that far east; indeed the extent of my travels along the beautiful Ohio has only been to the Falls. The Beaucaires were originally from Louisiana.” “You must have been among the earlier settlers of Missouri?” “Before the Americans came, sir,” proudly. ■ "My grandfather arrived at Beaucaire Landing during the old French regime; but doubtless you know all this?” “No, judge,” I answered, recognizing the "egotismof the man but believing frankfiess to be the best policy. ‘‘This happens to be my first trip on the upper river, and I merely chancedto know your name because you had been pointed out to me by Captain Throckmorton. I understood from him that you represented one of the oldest families in that section.” “There were but-very few here before ns," he answered with undisguised pride. “My grandfather's grant

“Rather a Dull Lot on Board—Miners and Such Cattle.”

of land was from the king. Alphonse de Beaucaire, sir, was* the trusted lieutenant of D'lberville —a soldier and a gentleman.’’ I ' bowed In acknowledgment, the family arrogance of the man interesting me deeply. So evident was this pride that this might be all the man had left—this memory of the past. “The history of those early days nqt altogether familiar to me,” I admitted regretfully. “But surely D’lberville must have ruled Louisiana more than one hundred years ago?' The judge smiled. “Quite true. This grant of ours was practically his last official act. Al'ijt 1712, one twenty years .ago, sir: I was myself born at Beaucaire sixty-eight years ago.” “I should have guessed you as ten years younger. And the estate still remains in its original grant?” e The smile of condescension deserted his ~ eyes; and his thin lips pressedtightly together. “I—l regret not; many of the later years have proven disastrous in the extreme,” he admitted, hesitatingly. “You will pardon me, sir, if I decline to discuss misfortune. Ah. Monsieur Kirby! I have been awaiting you. Have you met with this young man who came aboard at Fort Armstrong? I—l am unable to recall the name.” r felt the firm, strong grip of the other’s hand, and looked straight into his dark eyes. They Were like. $ mask. The face was lopg.* firm-jawed, slightlyswarthy, a tightly clipped black mustache shadowing the upper lip. It was a reckless face, yet appeared carved from marble. “Exceedingly pleased to meet you,” he said carelessly. “Rather a dull lot on board —miners and such cattle. Bound for St. Louis?” “Yes-rand beyond.” /. “Shall see more of you then. Well, judge, how do you feel? Carver and McAfee are waiting for us down below." The two disappeared together down the ladder and I was again left alone tn my occupancy of the upper deck.

CHAPTER 11. History .of the Beaucaires. The first two days and nights of the journey southward were devoid of any special interest or adventure. After the first day Kirby withdrew all attention from me and ceased in his endeavor to cultivate my acquaintance, convinced of my disinclination'to indulge. in cards. Throckmorton, being his own pilot, seldom left the wheelhouse, and consequently I passed many hours on the-bench beside him. At ope time or another he had met the famous characters along the river banks, and through continual questioning I

. Romance of the - ■ Black Hawk War - 11 .. -

By RANDALL PARRISH

Author of > “Contraband,” “Shea of the Irish Brigade,** “When Wilderness Was King,” etc. ILLUSTRATIONS By IRWIN MYERS ..... ...

thus, finally became possessed of the story of she house of Beaucalre. In the main it contained no unusual features. Through the personal influence of D’lberville' at.JCbuis’ court Alphonse de Beaucaire had originally received a royal grant of ten thousand acres of land bordering the west bank of the Mississippi a few miles above St. Louis. When his master returned to France leaving him unemployed, Beaucaire, possessing ample means of his own, had preferred to remain in America. .. In flatboats, propelled by voyageurs, and accompanied by a considerable retinue of slaves, he, with his family, had ascended the river and finally settled on his princely estate. Here he erected what for those early days was a stately mansion, and devoted himself to cultivating the land. Twenty years later, when his death occurred, he possessed the finest property along the upper river, was "shipping heavily to the New Orleans market, and was probably the most influential man in all- that section. * His (inly son, Felipe, succeeded him, but was not so suc'cessful-in administration, seriously lacking in business judgment, and being decidedly indolent by nature. Felipe married into one of the oldest and most respectable -families of St. Louis, and as a result of that union had one son, Lucius, who grew up reckless of restraint, and preferred to spend his time in New Orleans, rather than upon the plantation." Lucius was a young man of .twentysix, unsettled in habits, when the father died, and, against his inclination, was compelled to return to Missouri and assume control of the property. He found matters in rather bad condition, and his was not at all the type of mind to remedy them. Much of the land had been already irretrievably lost through speculation, and when his father’s obligations had been met, and his own gambling debts paid, the estate, onpe so princely and magnificent, was reduced to barely five hundred

acres, together with a comparatively small amount of cash. This condition sufficed to sober Lucius for a few years, and lie married a Menard of Cape Girardeau, of excellent family but not great wealtHl and earnestly endeavored, to rebuild his fortunes. Unfortunately his reform did not last. The evil influences of the past soon proved too strong for one of his temperament. The plantation house became in time a "rendezvous for all the wild spirits of that neighborhood, and stories of fierce drinking bouts and mad gambling were current in St. T.ouis. “Have you ever been at Beaucaire, capta in ?” I asked. —> — “We always stop at the landing, but I have only once been up the cliff to where the house stands. The judge was away from home; —in St. Louis, I believe—the day of my visit. He had 'sold me some timber, and I went out with the family lawyer, a man named Haines, living at the landing, to look it over.” “The house was closed?* “No’; it rs never clused. The hQUsekeeper was there, and also the two daughters.” / - - “Certainly; hadn’t I told you about them? Both girls are accepted as his daughters; but, if all I have heard is true, one must be his granddaughter.” He paused reminiscently, his eyes, on the river. “Haines told me a number of strange things about that family I had never heard before,” he admitted at last. “You see he has known them for years, and attended to most of Beaucaire’s legal business. This is about how the story runs, as he told it. It wasn’t generally known, but it seems that Lucius Beaucaire has been married twice —the first time to a Creelo girl in New Orleans when he-wav scarcely more than a boy. Nobody now living probably knows whatever became, of her,, but likely, she died Carly f anyway she never came north, or has since been heard from. The important part is that she gavehirth' to a son, who remained in New Orleans, probably in her care, until he was fourteen or fifteen years old. Then some occurrence, possibly his mother’s death, caused the judge to send for the lad, whose name was Adelbert, and had him brought to Missouri. All this happened before Haines settled at and previous to Beaucaire’s second marriage to Mademoiselle Menard. Bert, as the boy was called, grew up wild, and father and son quarreled so continuously that finally, and before he was twenty, the latter ran away, and has never been heard of since—simply disappeared, and no one knows to this day whether he is alive or dead. At least If Judge Beaucaire ever received any word from him he never confessed as much to Haines. However, the boy left behind tangible evidence of his existence.”

An exciting game of poker between an honest man and card sharps, with a tragic ending,/ . . (TO BJE CONTINUKLQ

FAIRY CORNERS

By JEAN HAWTHORNE.

It was almost n wee bit of old Paris, the Paris of boulevard cases, and yet it really stood in the business district of conventional, puritanical Boston. Sergeant Evans rubbed his eyes and looked again and, wonder of wonders, It was still there; a shallow court, filled with small, round tables, huge., gay-colored umbrellas and the whole facing a street lined with specialty ’ shops. Every <liy. after that discovery, at 12:30, Sergeant Evans took his .hat and cane and hurried;-’as fast as his limp would allow him, to the little restaurant, there to spend his lunch hour living again the wonderful year and a half he had spent in France. It had been a glorious break in his career as a very small clerk in very large insur- * ance companie--. It bad not been one of those “co-la-la" sOrt of things, that one learns.of from popular songs, but a real good Yankbe vacation, with a little hard work to pay expenses. And after he had been wounded, the whole country had seemed to open up to him and even Paris, the forbidden, had been his for a.couple of days. That was where he had learned to enjoy boulevard cases.

One day, as he sat and drearn'ed of the past and planned future trips to th'e old country, a girl came in and took a seat at the table next to him; a tall, straight, capable-looking girl. Sergeant Evans puzzled for it long time before he placed her. Then be crossed to her table, with his most military walk and saluted. “Pardon me, but were, you ever a nurse aT "the" Bordeaux reconstruction hospital?” with a most winning smile. “Yes .indeed," she -said. “Were you a patient there?” —‘T~TfiTiTir~y<>uTveTe the sister who ptTt~ some life into this tinkle!” he answered. . - ■ But there had been many patients and few nurses and it was only later ■on that she remembered him. Nevertheless, she asked him to sit down and they spent the rest of the lunch hour . talking over together the queer old days had been a war. The next day they met again, and this time the conversation became more personal. Miss Butler wanted to know if Boston was his home town. _"J£or.Yhe..presenf.-yeisT2he--an.'iwejxid. “I am really from the West, but good jobs don’t grow on trees; so when I was offered this, I said ‘Boston is -home? —How about yourself?” Miss Butler laughed. “Oh, I just grew like Topsy; no father, no mother, no home and no ties,-except -that-1 have found a doctor who wants a secretary with some medical knowledge, and 1 am it. But-«ome day I will go back to Paris and really see the country." “Of course," said Sergeant Evans. So the summer passed -rapidly and by the time the little boulevard restaurant closdtl for the winter the two war veterans had found other meeting places. —--- One evening he came to see her, his face all aglow. “Faith,” he said, for she was no longer - Mlss^Btitlertohim. ’ “it has come, at last, sootier than we expected ; a change to live in Paris fpr the next five years ; good job and a dandy salary. We sail in June.” * "We?” queried Miss Butler, in a very small voice. “Why, of cowsp yon nhd mo** “jAiid hoW’< do I go, • as secretary eras reconstruction aide?” asked Miss Butler, and the - small voice was almost .a whisper. But Sergeant Evans ha<l seen Iler eyes and did" Hot waste words. He just took her in his arms. “You will know before we applj* for passports,” was all he said. (Copyright, 1919, McClure Newspaper Syndicate.)

Always Something New.

“Of making many books there is no end,” complained the preacher, and did hot perceive how highly he was praising letters as-’ an occupation. There is no end, indeed, to making to gathering wealth. Problem gives rise t<> probleinu We may' study forever. and we are .never as learned as we would. We have never made a stature worthy of our dreams. And when we have discovered a continent, or crossed a chain of mountains, it is only to find another ocean or another plain upon the,farther side. . . . Even in a private park, or in the neighborhood of a single hamlet, the weather and the seasons keep so deftly changing that although we walk there for a lifetime there will be always something new to startle and delight us.— Robert Louis Stevenson.

Some Explaining Due.

A well-known parson preaching to a crowded congregation at a church where in his younger days he had been curate, alluded to the many changes that had taken place. He contrasted the attendance with that of days gon,e by, and remarked: “At one in this church there was not a soul —er— person in the gallery.” Next day, in a report of the service which appeared in one of the local newspapers, the minister was reported to have said: "At one time in this church there was nor a sober person In the gallery !”/-London Ideas. ,

Ah, Well! Anatomy.

Our observation* is that a natatorium is a poor place for a man to go for the study of astronomy. —Dallas News.