Rensselaer Republican, Volume 25, Number 6, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 6 October 1892 — CAST UP BY THE SEA. [ARTICLE]

CAST UP BY THE SEA.

M^ggTBRXX. Hi #tf*|*.fi«iick»u3. It was past midnight, and the party traveled P*iiMp : 'a|oa|pheeveP surface, unim--1 pecfed hr the tangled vegetation that tied retarded them in some portions SsqdjßMiit journey There was no wind «ad not 4 d®od upon the sky. in Trtßeh the stars shone with extraordinary brightness, although those near the moon eras nearly eclipsed by her extreme light. There was a silpespyglow upon the wild desert indescribable beauty to the scene, the rocks that rose abruptly from the sandy plain appeared 16 assume the forms of monsters, -as indistinct haw of distance. The nigffl passed away, and the moon jjrew pale ns the first streaks otdpwc appeared in the east. QuickfifJlte Stars disappeared, and the planet Vends, lately so brilliant faintly KJfpomered as the last of tiie bright host, aud then vanished from view as the gorgeous orb Of gold rose suddenly from the horizon desert, and glowed all mighty upon the sterile scene • It was the •horror 'of' sunrise. For fourteen frOura ttifif "had marched without a rest, as it was necessary to pus a on ■with ’-the .greatest raoiditv at the earlyyart of the joeraey, that the carry the water and knapsacks as far las possible before it should become' exhausted from thitili #hen it would be ne 'essary to I I I B '* For some time they had seen a ,!ofty rocky mountain in tho distance •among a chain of lower hills ; they piiiiilntned to push on for the higher ground, in Which they might discover some rook that would shelter them from the burning snn. For nearly four hours tliev marched, until thev at length reache<l an overhanging rock in a rugged pass,through which tte dry bed ofa broad torrent formed a Stony road. Here. tired and thirsThte' wtiofe party lay down and slept. They woke at about 3 p. m., v-ipß ilProcdiately prepared to start; but all were footsore, as they had paarched about fortv-eight miles, and the OX Was suffering from extreme thirst. Ned commenced loading the tired animal. With Tim s assistance he strapped on the. knapsacks, and then he went to tli# spot where they had laid the water skins in the fhidh. ; Horror of horrors! they

' It would bo impossible to describe the chock that this terrible sight produced upon the whole party. The ■skips were literally torn to pieces by the horns of the ox 1 The thirsty -animal bad seen Tim sprinkle water from the skins upon the dry straw , during their s'eep it had risen, and, discovering the water, it had attempted to drink by tearing open N the leather sacks with its horns. Every drop had immediately disappeared In the sand. Not even the had procured a mouthful : it could only lick the damp sand and the •empty water skins. Both Ned and Tim had a small supply in the skins which they carried -on their backs ; the guide had none, as he had depended upon those carried by the ox. They had at least seventy miles of desert before them. Ned and Tim looked at each other, but neither dared to utter o word ; the future appeared certain and too horrible to think of. They agreed to put the small quantity of water that remained into Ned's water skin, a 9 that of Tim leaked slightly, and the evaporation from one skin would be less than from two. The guide appeared stupefied with pain, but he pointed with his lance In the direction that they were to take, and ho declared that they would arrive at a river upon which #as a village aud trading depot of Arabs from Sandbar, but it was two days' fair inarching distant. Ned to.* the bearing with his compass, and with heavy hearts they pushed k on. For some minutes they had sat upon a rock to observe the country; they a w would have started, but the guide could not rise from the ground; his arm was swollen to the size of a man's he complained of giddiness acu total paralysis of the lower limbs. arrow was poisoned, 1 ’ he faintly uttered; *‘l must die. I thirst; give me water';” “Dou’t givede water. Massa Ned," •aid Tim; ''de pison kill him quick. What for give de water? Water or no water, de pison kill him. Save 8W» od’s sake. Massa Ned It was a painful trial, but Ned felt that Tim’s advice was just the unfortunate guide was doomed, as the poison of the arrow had become thorougly aba rbed into the system. He was a 1 ready delirious, and raging with a burniug thirst, he raved for water. HU sufferings were pitiable, and Ned felt half inclined to share toe last small portion with him, when the gyide suddenly .seized bis lance that lay by bis side and drove it deep into the throat that was standing bj him. As the animal fell to th® blow, pierced to the heart, the dying guide fell upon it, and glueiug bis parched lips 'to the wound from blood spouted, he drank : hi * last draught.

Altnough each moment was preitflMlS, as deny added to their thirst. &ed ooutd not leave the guide alone to die upon the desert For about three hoarse ho remained to witness the agonies of the miserable man. Hr be, as the poison wreaked its fatal '9Mri<«*WljU«u in ail his limbs, and in hi* body uutil he aipearr.l to lxinflated. At last the throat swelled OleO to such an extent that after a few convulsive struggles f r breath, be atretelted himself out and lay upon the but uing sand a corpse. Bath Neil and Tim were horror Strunk; ill** were themselves in the OgOSy of tlyrst; but uo more than SJSsiSSi 1 (down the mountain s.de uud . eddied

BY SIR SAMUEL W. BAKER.

on and marched until sunrise at the rate of four miles aa hour, without drinking. The moon bad been their friend, but ones more she became pale, and the xtrendfol enemy again appeared—the aun. , - - They had walked about fqrty-eight miles from the spot where they had left the . guide. The blue' conical* mountain appeared to be within fifteen, miles of them; once at the foot, they would find water, as the river flowed at its base. The sun rose hot as fire, and again the dreadful simoom blew, and they felt faint at the terrible beat. They both reeled with fatigue and thirst. Ned could support the latter no longer. During the cool night the water had not evaporated, but be Knew that the simoom would dry up their scant? store wiibin an hour. “Drink, fcmt” said Ned; “we will each share the last drop, and, please God, we may then hold out tUI the end, but we must not halt or we are lost. Drink, my dear Tim, a full half, and leave the rest for me.” ?Hm was tearfully distressed from thirst. andale clutched the waterskin from Ned’s bauds. For au instant lie hesitated, as he gazed intently at his loved master, who was in a lamentable state of exhaustion; he then eagerly pressed the month of the water-skin to liis lips and appeared to drink. - “Drink more, you have not had your share, aud I will then finish it,” said Ned. Again Tim appeared to drink, after whichhe handed the water-skin to Ned, who ravenously finished it, devoutly exclaiming, “Thank God!” as the last drop gurgled down his throat. “Tank God, Massa Ned!” repeated Tim, as he watched Ned’s refreshed countenance with a mingled expression of intense affection and agony. Throwing the empty waterskin up on his shoulder, Ned' now led the way, followed by Tim. They could fast: their feet were terribly swollen, and although they had thrown away their knapsacks and Ned had reserved nothing but his compass and chart, they could barely march at the rate of three miles an hour.

Tim lagged many yards behind; several times Ned halted and waited for him. As ha camo up he reeled from side to side, and his tongue was hanging from his mouth parched and furred like a bare akin. Ouce more he lagged more than a hundred yards behind. Again Ned waited; he was himself also exhausted from a frightful thirst and prostration; he couid scarcely feel the ground with his feet. At length Tim staggered slowly up, and stopping suddenly he clasped I his head with both his bauds, and reeling backward he fell heavily upon the ground. Ned endeavored to raise him. “Tim! my dear Tim, for God’s sake don’t give in!” cried Ned; “I am nearly done myself, but if we can only march a few hours more we may yet be saved from this horrible death!" Tim fainted, and lay for some minutes insensible. Ned thought he was dead. At length he recovered consciousness, but he could hardly articulate, as his tongue was as dry as leather. “Go.on, Massa Ned!'" he said; “leave Tim to die. I can’t go any further. I going to die. Massa Ned!”

“I’ll never leave you, Tim; my true, my faithful friend," said Ned, in an agony of despair, as he saw the unmistakable signs of death stealing across Tim's face. “We'll die together, if die we must. Ob, for one draught of water!” cried Ned, “one draught to save my pjor Tim's life!” A faint smile crossed Tim’s haggard face as he heard these words, and, looking at Nod, he said painfully, “Pray- God forgive me, Massa Ned ; I told one lie: I told one lie. ” “ What lie,Tim ? ” said Ned ; “you have never told me a lie. ” “Yes, Massa Ned; p’rhaps God forgive me if you ask nim. I told one lie about de water, and now I die. I told Massa Ned I drink my half—dat one lie. I not touch one drop; I leave it for my dear Ned. Dat save him, p’raps, if go on quick and leave Tim to die. God bless you, niv dear Massa Ned ! Tim got no frens, only one poor nigger ; nobody cry for Tim. Let him die ! Go on, my dear Massa Ned! Go home; sea fader and inoder ; de Miss Edit! see all all—all!” Tim could speak no more. Ned wruug bis hands in an agony of despair. Now, for the first time, he knew that heroic act of devotion in his brave and all suffering follower. Although dying of thirst, he would pot driuk his share of the scanty pittance, but he bad practiced the too generous deception to save his master's life.

‘ Oh, Tim, dear friend ! too good, too generous! how shall I forgive myself for this ?” cried Ned : “ that you should die that I might live 1 Bather let us both die as we have lived, together, and trust to God to bless us both hereafter ! ” At these words. Tim convulsively raised himself upon his elbows and, looking up t<j the burning sun with fixed eyeballs that never contracted before the blazing light, he laughed wildly in delirium. For some minutes he uttered this frightful mirth, and then a change came over his face. Still looking fixedly at the sky, his features became placid and assumed an expression of intense happiness and peace. Smiling, as though tasting the joy that the next world alone could give, he said, “ My God ! my God ! I see de water springs 1 Tank God Almighty 1" Tim fell gently back upon the ground; his soul was at the water springs, and Ned wept over the body of his beloved friend. , A giddiness seized 2ei’s brain j'hls tongue hugg from S mouth, and he Ml insensible by .Tim’s side Bad be not drunk that one long draught that Tim’s devotion offered, he would have been tbe^ first ftVBI jJj . 4--- v ■"*-

ro®a a cloud like that of Elijah, po through the desert? as det spoke to ears that could not hear. And now, from every point of the horizon, ckmds arose, at first snow white, but rapidly increasing in size and darkening in color until thev became an inky black and the fierce •un himself was veiled. The light' ning played incessantly;, the thunder roared and Cracked enough to waken np the dead ; and the rain—that heaven sent torrent—poured like a water spout upon the famished earth aud almost flooded the lately withered desert Oh ! had that rain descended one hour sooner !—but no; it would havo condemned ito longerlife on earth one who was now in

For more than two hours the rain poured in an uninterrupted deluge. Cascades of clear water fell rushing from the lately torrid rocks, and deep water courses filled with a muddy fluid, tore their wild Course along the sandy desert: the whole of the level ground was ankle deep in water. In this lay the bodies of Ned and Tim, side by side. Suddenly, as though awakened from a deep sleep, Ned sat up and stared wildly round him. The rain still poured, and the thunder burst heavily at intervals. Rubbing his eyes, he exclaimed, “It is a dream! —where am I? I in the desert. Ha! here he is. Wake up, Tim, or we shall be drowned!” Saying which, Ned, half delirious from over-exhaustion and thirst, placed his lips to the flood that covered the ground and drank deeply. ‘ Taking a deep breath, as ho slaked his thirst, he now turned toward his silent companion, and, taking one arm, he endeavored to arouse him. He dropped the arm as the fatal truth flashed upon him—the body was cold and stiffened. He heard a sudden noise—a rushing sound in the air—and, looking up, be perceived a huge vulture descending from on high, with closed wings, with the noise of a rocket iu its eagerness to be a sexton for the dead. Many of these birds were circling in above the spot, while several were already perched upon the neighboring rocks waiting for their opportunity. A thrill of horror ran through Ned’s veins. There was a deep crevice in aplateau of solid rock a few yards distant. Thither, as a labor of love, he carried with much difficulty, the rigid body, and gently lowered it witnin the narrow vault. He then fetched rocked as large as he could lift; these he placed across the crevice until he had effectually protected it with a pile of heavy fragments that would defy the attacks of vultures or wild animals.

Ned drank once more, and half filled his water-skin from a clear stream that spouted from a rock, and, slinging it upon his shoulder, he took Tim’s gun and ammunition in addition to his own. Thus loaded he took a last farewell of the fatal spot, and in a few words, as he stood by the grave, he offered up a heartfelt prayer for the dead and for guidance on his lonely way. It was nearly sunset when he reached a grove of tall palm trees that grew in a long line ut the base of the mountaiu and extended as far as the eye could reach' Passing through these for about two hundred yards, he perceived a considerable village upon a high rocky ridge, which looked down upon a roaring torrent now swollen by the rain. Without caring for his reception, Ned slowly ascended the rocky path and entered the village. To his astonishment he was met by a number of Arabs, instead of the patives to whom he had been accustomad. These people were engaged in storing elephants’ tusks within a large shed that was constructed after a different fashion to the huts of thq natives. Upon seeing Ned, they gathered around him; and he, tired, hungry and dispirited, threw his two guns upon the gronnd, and then lay down exhausted at full length. The Arabs were ivory and slavetraders belonging to Zanzibar. Many of their slaves had been purchased from the country in which Ned had so long been a captive; thus os he spoke their language.it was not difficult to procure an interpreter, and he shortly discovered several people who had served the Arabs for some years, and therefore had a knowledge of Arabic. There was no further difficulty in describing the adventure. Ned,having arrived among them with the first storm of rain that had fallen for nearly twelve months, was regarded by the natives with a superstitious reverence that was also shared by the Arabs; the latter agreed that heshould join their party and accompany them to Zanzibar on their return, Some months passed away in the Arab camp, during which their parties made long excursions in the interior, and returned laden with ivory together with many slaves. At length the long wished-for period arrived, and Ned, who had sadly missed and mourned (or his faithful companion Tim, hailed the day of departure with joy. as the Arabs bent the drum, aud assembled a body of five hundred porters to transport the tusks to Long strings of slaves of both sexes accompanied the march; many were fastened by ropes from neck to neck, while others were fettered by the forked stick similar to that in which Ned had been secured when first captured.

In six weeks' march they reached Zanzibar without any incident worthy of notice, and having delivered the ivory, the captain of the party Introduced Ned to nis employer, who was a wealthy Parsee merchant from Bombay. This man not only received him kindly,but furnished him with clothes and money, and promised to send him to Egypt on board one of his own vessels that would shortly proceed to Cosseir. on the Bed Sea, Ned presented the captain of the trading party with hie two guns as a return tor the kindk*' W «* -to. the SFSSrH uroptMmj, bo a Balieu on uoaru a ' ‘Vi ; fM'\%

large Arab dow loaded with ivory and slaves for Egypt. -iChe-Wtod was favorable throughout the voyage, and without an accident of any kind they reached Cosseir. Therh they disembarked, 'and 'the cargo was transported on camels while the slaves marched on foot across the desert to Nile. Upon arrival at the Nile, the staves were divided among several largedecked vessels, upon one of which Ned was furnished with a cabin, end they sailed down the stream. They were detained at several large towns on the banks of the river, and especially at Cairo, at which place many of the slaves were disposed of at good prices; and, after a voyage of three weeks, the boats arrived at Alexandria, and Ned r ~f6y*the time looked upon the blue waters of the Mediterranean. He felt almost at borne, and having been kindly received by the agent of the Parsee merchant, he was provided with a passage on board an English vessel that was about to sail. After a voyage of six weeks the vessel passed the Lizard light and entered the Channel. They were in sight of the coast on the following day, with a light but favorable breeze, when they met a large fishiug smack, which they spoke, being anxious to obtain the earliest news from England. To Ned's delight she hailed from Falmouth, which would be his most favorable landing place; therefore he took leave of the captaitt and crew of the vessel, with whom he had shared a most agreeable voyage, and going on board the smack, the sails tilled, and the two ships parted. On the following day they sighted Falmouth, and once more Ned set bis foot upon the soil of old'England. CHAPTER XXI. Ned Grey happened to arrive at Falmouth a few days after Paul had been committed to prison by the magistrates on the original warrant for his apprehension; thus he was lying in jail at that town to await his trial at the sessions at the very time that Ned was unconsciously hurrying through on his way home. The committal of Paul to prison had been effected through the instrumentality of James Stevens, who had no sooner got rid of him from the rectory than he once more renewed his visits and pressed his suit with Edith, With consummate hypocrisy he had persuaded her, and also Polly Grey, that he was forced to commit Paul on the warrant, but that, as the sessions were drawing near, he would shortly be tried and acquitted, as there could be no doubt of his in nocence. —— -

Although Edith felt no love for Stevens, she had learned not to dislike him; she had been so constantly talked to by her mother and impressed with the idea that he was really a worthy object of her affection, that she regarded him as a person whom it was not impossible that she might some day learn to love. Nevertheless, she lingered fondly upon the recollections of the past, when her heart had first known the feelings of real love. It was by pretended sympathy for her early affection for Ned Gray that Stevens had succeeded in winning her regard, and well aware this influence, ho appeared to delight in frequent allusions to the time when Ned and he served together on board the Sybiile, during which he declared that be had been his greatest friend. It was the morning after Ned's arrival at Falmouth that Stevens, having slept at the rectory, was at breakfast with Mrs. Jones, Polly Grey and Edith. A fine young Newfoundland dog was sitting by her side, watching her face intently, in the hope that some morsel would fall to his share. This dog had been given to her by Stevens on the previous day. (to be continued)