Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 24, Number 51, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 16 June 1894 — Page 2

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CHAPTER XXVNI.

The courier dispatched by the captain of the Federal troop reached the lines in due time and banded the message to General Caster, whose brigade was in winter quarters, but scouting and reconnoitering almost daily An order bad been issued by tbe general in command of the army in the valley outlawing all Confederate irregulars and directing special attention to Mosby's band.

Within halt an hour after receiving the courier Carter dispatched two companies of the Sixth Michigan cavalry, with instructions to push forward at a gallop, and 30 minutes later be followed them with the First and Fifth regiments and a battery of artillery. The flying column foand old Uncle Ben patiently waiting by the roadside and •topped long enough to hear his story. He gave them the lay of the camp occupied by Kenton and Brayton and was left behind to wait for the main column.

Perhaps tbe besieging force was in •arnest in making the statement which fell from tbe lips of the flag of truce man as an alternative. They bad suffered too severely to try another charge op the narrow way, and the fusillade maintained for hours had been lead thrown away. Ike Baxter bad indeed been sent away for re-enforcements and a piece of artillery, and the guerrilla portion of the force was thirsting for revenge and rife for the most desperate deed. The girl had defied them, and her lover had killed two or three of their number, and somebody must be made to suffer.

The sergeant in command of the squad of Confederate cavalry had no control over the guerrillas, but when, as they waited to bear from the men behind the rocks, he beard them planning to wreak their vengeance on Rest Haven, he did all in his power to dissuade thein. They seemed to abandon the Idea, but under pretense of "having a talk" four or five of them slipped away and started for the* house. They were within 20 rods of it and had already divided up the wicked work to be swiftly accomplished when the flying squadron turned a bend in the highway and was upon thom. They turned to flee, but half a dozen revolveis cracked, and they were dead men as the last set of fours jumped over their bodies lying on the highway. Not a trooper slackened bis rein or a horse broke his gallop. "Haiti Dismount! Fourth men hold horses I Deploy to the left! Forward and fire at will!"

It was a complete surprise to the Confederates, who bad collected in a body to bear what answer might be made to the message sent in. They made a show of defense, but after a fight of five iniuBtes, during which they lost 10 or 12 men, they threw down their arms and surrendered. This event was known in the camp almost as soon as outside of it, and the cheers which Steve Brayton uttered as he perched himself on the rocks were plainly heard as far as Rest Haven. "Yank, old boy, wo uns is on the top limb now," chuckled Steve as ho leaped down and shook Kenton's hand. "Bein as I've got sorter used to the sight of Yankee uniforms, I reckon I'll drop over tbar and tell 'em about yo' and see what's goin to be done." "But tell them of Miss Percy first," replied Kenton, whose anxiety was far grentnr than liu had dared betray to bis comrade.

The prisoners were conducted to the highway and suirounded by a guard, and then the senior captain accompanied Brayton back to the camp. They were not long in deciding what should be done with Kenton. They would remove him to Rest Haven, temporarily at least, and the prisoners would be held tiieie until the main column came up. A rude litter was soon constructed, and Kenton was placed thereon and borne awav.

A feeling of dumb despair crept over Marian r«vrr- as she entered tbe house after Uncle Ben's departure and looked upon her The event was not entiielv unexpected, and yet it was a great shock to her, surrounded as it was by trying circumstances. The mother d-rtd, Mrs. Baxter gone, her lover wounded and besieged by bloodthirsty men, Uncle Ben gone after help, an almost certain knowledge that the worst was yet to come—what wonder that the girl was stricken and helpless? The report of avejy musket reached her ears, and now and then as the firing died away a little her heart stood still at the thought that Kenton and bis comrade had been captured by those who thirsted for their lives. She could only weep and pray as the hours dragged away. Hope came to her only when she heard the clatter of iron hoofs on the fro*en road and looked out to behold the two companies of Federal cavalry sweeping up the highway to the rescue. Uncle Ben had been in time, and she murmured, "Go! bloas birol" as she realized what it meant The dead guerrillas lay in plain sight as the troopers pushed on, and she shuddered as she realised what might have been. Tbe dead were forgotten for a moment in her Xnxiety for the living. There had been no firing for tike last 10 minutes. Sad tbe camp been captured? Had help come too late? She stood in the open door and held herself on her feet white she listened. A end-: den crash of musketry told, her what die was yearning to know. The Federal troopers bad attacked, and they were strong Anough to beat off or annihilate

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COPTRlGKTtD 1894 BY AMCRiCAN PRESS ASSOCIATION.

the besiegers. Half an hour later she was crying and sobbing and saying fo the men who bore the litter: "Carefully now! Bring him right in this wayl I am so glad! I was afraid that he was dead!"

The prisoners were confined in the barn. Of the entire force not one had escaped excopt Ike Baxter, and that only because he was absent. There were a dozen or more dead men to bury, and after awhile a detail was sent back to perform tbe work. A dozen dead, but no wounded. If you were in the valley that winter, you will recall the bitterness existing between the "irregulars," who were practically bushwhackers and guerrillas, and tbe Federal cavalry. No prisoners were taken on either side. If a Federal detachment was cut off, never a man returned to bis lines. If a courier was captured, he was shot in his tracks or hung to the limb of a roadside tree. There was no more mercy shown on the other side. The capture of an armed man in citizen's dress or half uniform meant that he had only 15 minutes to live at the furthest. If he claimed to belong to Mosby's band, he courted death the sooner. Men who fell in a fight went down to be buried there.

Custer with his troopers found Uncle Ben eagerly awaiting them. The old man was given a seat in an ambulance, and within a few minutes tbe general had beard his story. The order was given to push on at a faster pace, and the command reached Rest Haven just as the prisoners had been placed under guard. A surgeon accompanied the column, and while he was busy dressing Kenton's wounds General Custer was holding an interview with Marian Percy. The result of this was an order that the dead woman and the wounded man should be taken back to the Federal lines—the one for burial, the other for proper medical treatment. Whatever Marian wished to take away would be transported for her, and the place would be abandoned.

Steve Brayton had come out of the affair a greater hero than he bad ever hoped to be. Although frankly acknowledging himself an escaped prisoner and now again captured by the enemies of his cause, every Federal who understood how he had fortified tbe camp and defended it to save a wounded and almost helpless fellow Confederate insisted on taking him by the hand and tendering him hearty congratulations. Even General Custer himself did not withhold a word of praise after learning from Marian and Kenton of Brayton's bravery and self sacrifice. "Waal, gineral, I dunno about all this," replied Steve, with a good deal of embarrassment. "Reckon I was the means of gittin that Yank into the Confederate service, and now it looks as if I was the means of gittin him out and myselt along with him. We uns hev been driv outer the southern army by

The report of every musket rcachcd her ears. that font up at the camp","and if yo* uns don't take keer of ua I reckon we una will hev to hunt a cave sumw^ar and hide away till the war is over.'*!

The packing up had been accomplished, ami tbe dead woman was about to be carried out of the house when the burial party was driven in by a strong force of Confederates. Ike Baxter had galloped into the Confederate lines, only five or six miles away, with information that speedily sent two companies of cavalry down tbe road as a re-enforcement.

One of these was Captain Wyle'a, and be smiled grimly as he recalled the circumstances of his last ride over this highway,

Ike Baxter bad come into camp on a previous occasion to report that Kenton and Brayton were hiding ont near Rest Haven, and that he had been nearly killed by Uncle Ben while trying to follow him to tbe hiding place of the fugitives. Captain Wyle would wash his hands of tbe affair, but a detachment was sent away with orders to hunt down and taring in the prisoners. Steve Brayton might be brought in, hot he very well knew that Kenton would not be, whether found wounded and helpless or not. After the detachment had accomplished its work be would seek a meeting with Marian Percy, but not before. She could not bold him responsible for the action of others.

As tbe Confederates came down the road In pursuit of the bnrial party Cmtar ordered forward thit»*br four corn

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TERKE HAUTE SATURDAY EVENING MAIL, JUNE 16,1894.

panus, ana uie pursuers became in turn the pursued. But not for long. A heavy force of troopers in gray were coming up. and even a child coojd have told what that look on GeneraT Custer's face portrayed. For long weeks be had tried to bring on a cavalry fight. The hour had come!

CHAPTER XXIX.

It is within an hour of sunset on a Winter's day. An inch of snow covers the earth like a royal carpet, and dark and ragged clouds drive last acrosaa cold blue sky.

In front of Rest Haven, looking to the sonth, the hills recede and leave an almost level plain on which there is no greater obstruction than an occasional tree or bush. A c#t*ek which has its birthplace in the mountains meanders acroes this plain, but divides it about equally. The plain is large enough for 5,000 cavalry to maneuver on, and along its edges are a dozen spots on which field artillery can be posted advantageously.

Attention, now, for you are going to witness one of the grandest sights in war —a cavalry fight! Only a few of the Confederates have appeared in sight, but Custer has gnesaed the situation and is preparing for it. While he is issuing orders and the squadrons are moving and the artillery galloping into position, one of his aids is hurrying up the, move to abandon the bouse. Wrapped in her bedding instead of a shroud, the dead woman is borne to an ambulance by troopers with uncovered heads and reverent mien—troopers who will be shouting like devils and wearing the looks of madmen half an hour hence. Marian goes with her dead, Royal Kenton into an ambulance by himself. The vehicles take the road for the Federal lines. "You area noncombatant and had better go with him," the officer said to Steve Brayton as Kenton was ready to go. "Sense me fur differinwith yo'," replied Steve, "bat if it won't do no pertick'Ier harm I'll stay and see this fuss over with. It's goin to be aright smart scrimmage, I take it, and as it'll probably be the last fout I'll see I'll sorter hang around. Tbar's that ole nigger, though—don't leave him."

Uncle Ben stood in the midst of the bustle with bundles and packages in his arms and at his feet. He was told to get into the vehicle with Kenton, and next moment six horses were galloping a gun over the spot where he had stood.

Look to the sontb. The Confederates are debouching from the highway and deploying on the plain. Their hearts are filled with rejoicing as they behold

Th* artillery galloping into position. the force of Federals opposed. They, too, have longed for a battle in which the infantry should have no part, and the oft expressed wish is about to be gratified.

There is no advantage of position. Two thousand Federals, 2,000 Confederates, and each has a battery numbering six pieces. Custer's guns could reach the gray horsemen as they deploy, but every piece is silent. A charge by half his command across that snow covered plain would have swept the field at first and crushed the Confederates back into the narrow highway to become a panic stricken mob. No charge was ordered. The man whose name was to become a household word before the end of the war and whose life was to, be spared on 20 fields of battle that it might go out with the shouts of Indian demons ringing in his ears sat his horse and watched and waited. He hrid come to the brigade of stalwart Micbiganders a few months previously fresh from West Point. He had been called a boy, and men and officers had taken no pains to conceal their sarcasm and distrust. Two or three times he bad led them in a dash there, but little fighting resulted. He would test them now, and they should weigh him in the balance. Boom! Boom! Boomi The Confederate battery is the first to open fire, and it is promptly responded to. The very first missife is a percussion shell, and it drives its way into the house so lately occupied by the living and tbe dead, and in its explosion brings re'k and ruin. Twelve guns are belching their death missiles across the open space when a sudden cry rises to the lips of a thousand men. From the western edge of the plain, where tbe pines grow tbi 1 a woman suddenly appears to view. She is bareheaded, and her hair is flying about her shoulders. She has neither shawl nor cloak, and her dress is ragged and torn. She has a stick in her hand, and she waves it as if it were a sword in the band of a man and starts at a wild run for the eastern edge of the plain, right across tbe front of the lines drawn op in battle array. The cry of astonishment which greeted her appearance becomes a shout of warning, but she does not heed it. Enveloped by tbe smoke of their guns, the artillerists do not see her. Their bearing deadened by the loud reports, they do not catch the shouts uttered by Federal and Confederate alike. Round shot and shell go whiCEing and shrieking over the snow, and men waiting for battle shudder at the woman's danger.

§§J"

Who's that? Halt! Halt! He can never do it! He's sure to be killed!" So cried 500 Federals as Steve Brayton, mounted on the hone of a trooper be had been asked to hold for a moment, dashed straight ont into the plain to head the woman off. He knew her tbe moment she stepped out of the woods. Uncle Ben had told him of tbe meeting with Mrs. Baxter on the highway. He

had flung her down the bank with tremendous force, and as he came back over the road witfi Custer's men he expected to find her lying there dead. Nothing was to be seen of her, however, and his mind was greatly relieved.., "In her fall, as was afterward known, the woman's head struck a stone, and the skull was fractured. When she struggled up, she was no' longer sane. She had been wandering through tbe forest for hours before she appeared on the battlefield, but she encountered no one and found no shelter. Never was there a more gallant deed than that performed by Steve Brayton, and never was hero more heartily applauded by friend and foe. He galloped his horse straight at the woman, and as he came up to her be leaned over in the saddle, caught her with both hands, and next instant she was on the saddle before him, and the horse was flying back to the Federal lines. The woman fought and screamed, and fragments of bursting shell whizzed and whirred around and above horses and riders, but they dashed into the lines unhurt, and the gallant rescuer was directed to continue down the road until the woman could be placed beyond danger.

Turn quick to the south! You will never see a grander spectacle than this. The Confederate command, divided into three divisions, with double lines dressed as if on parade, has received the order to advance. They had waited for Custer to charge, but the chevalier was also a strategist. His artillery, being better served, was creating the most havoc, and be could afford to delay. Look! LookI As the gray horsemen begin to move Custer's guns, which have been grouped in front of his center, limber up and move at a gallop—four of them —two to tbe right and two to the left. In three minutes they are on his flanks and loaded with grapeshot and canister. The Confederate battery does not follow the example, and as the horsemen move forward the guns are useless. ISiMI

Trot! Gallop! Charge!" ^You hear the bugles sound the order, and you see 2,000 sabers flash in the Bunset as 2,000 horsemen thunder over the plain. Give them credit for bravery even to recklessness. Before the horses are off a-trot the murderous grapeshot are knocking them down by dozens, and as the artillerists change to canister 2,000 Federal carbines also open fire.

Rally! Re-form! Forward!" f'Above the roar of cannon and musketry you can catch the notes of the bugles, and as the-smoke lifts here and there in spots the eye can detect the gray horsemen seeking to obey the calls. They do rally. Tuey do re-form. They do push forward under that terrible fire, but only to be broken up and swept aside. Tbe Federal artillerists get the order to cease firing, the crackle of musketry dies away, and five minutes later the smoke has drifted off, and the eye can scan the plain. Beaten, broken, slaughtered, and yet the gray horsemen are trying to rally again! f§^ 4Now is the moment, and Custerhas waited for it. Only the dead and wounded are left behind as he moves ont, as his entire command sweeps straight acrd&s the plain and falls upon the broken and disorganized enemy. They rally here and there by the score and meet the shock. They fight singly and by twos and threes. Men wait and die rather than run away. Brave men, all of them—men whose deeds will be spoken of around our campfires for years to come. The only criticism will be that they did not have a leader equal to Custer in the murderous art of war.

Night has fallen, and the fight is over. There are prisoners to be guarded, wounded to be csred for, dead to be counted for the official report and spoils to be gathered up. The clouds have driven away to the east, and the canopy of heaven is studded with bright stars. There is no moon, and the blood spots on the snow gradually fade away and are lost to sight.

Hark! That sound is the cry of wounded men blended into one great wail for succor. It is freezing cold, and they are in torture. Hark again! That grewsome sound rising at, intervals above the wailing comes from the wounded horses. They are also begging and pleading. Some are limping about among the dead and wounded men as if seeking their masters, pausing now and then to rub their cold noses against a body, while others are lying down and lift their heads only to utter a whinny which tells of fright and pain. Thank God that night and darkness come to the battlefield to hide its horrors! In the darkness we shall search out all the wounded, but we shall not be forced to look UDOU the mangled dead—mangled by shot and shell and grape and tbe iron hoofs of the charging horses until resemblance to humanity is lost and one cries out in horror.

CHAPTER XXX.

While tbe fight was raging the hottse and "quarters" were both in flames, fired by the shells from a Confederate gnn. But for tbe strenuous efforts of the detachment guarding the prisoners in the barn that structure would bave also been reduced to ashes. It therefore came about that when tbe battle was over and men began to bring in tbe wounded the barn was the only shelter to be bad. Tbe prisoners were, turned ont and tbe place given up to moaning, groaning men and those who sought to succor them. Tbe sounds of battle bad been beard in tbe Federal lines, and a brigade of infantry arrived about 8 o'clock in the evening. While their services were not needed, tbebal^ozen surgeons sent out with tbe column bad work to last them the long night through and far into the next day.

It is a grim sight, a field hospital like this, and they are grim men into whose hands the wounded fall as they are lifted off tbe stretchers, groaning, cursing or crying. The flight of a snowflake in a gala of wind is not more erratic than the flight of death missiles in a battle. Here are men wounded in the face the next three or four may be wounded in tbe feet or ankles. Sabers bave descended upon heads and shoulders bullets

have plowed their way into arms, sides, hips or legs fragment^fof shell have carried aWay fingers and reduced hands to pulp. Of a hundred men no two have received the 6ame hurt.

Rude tables have been prepared, and strong men lift each victfm up to be overhauled by the men who have stripped off coat and vest and rolled their sleeves far back. They look like butchers in a slaughter pen, but their hearts are tender toward these victims of battle, whether friend or foe. The bitterness of battle is at its height when the crash of artillery and the crackle of musketry are fiercest. When the battle is over, whether victorious or defeated, pity returns to the heart and blinds the eyes to the color of the uniform. Over each man lifted up there is a brief consultation.

Those bare armed men need waste no time. They can tell almost at a glance what the result will be. If it is a mortal hurt, the poor fellow is lifted aside to breathe his last as peacefully as possible under such surroundings. If there is hope for bim, his wound is dressed with agile fingers, and he gives way to the next. "That's Captain Wyle, my company captain!"

So exclaimed Steve Brayton as he entered the barn about 11 o'clock at night to see if he could recognize any Confederates being brought in. The captain had just been lifted to the table. He was conscious, but had not yet spoken. Those who brought him in said that he was pinned to the earth by the hind quarters of his dead horse, and that the animal was fearfully mangled by grapeshot. "Shoulder dislocated, ribs broken, leg broken, struck in the groin by a carbine ball," announced tbe surgeon who made a rapid investigation. "Any hope for me?" asked the captain, whose lips had been moistened with whisky, as it was observed that he desired to speak. s-Continued oh Third Page. ... 3 in fp? Raffling For Bibles.

Tho annual custom of raffling for Bibles at the parish church of St Ives, Hunts, took place on Tuesday. Tho money for tbe Bibles is obtained under an old charity known as Wylde's charity, which provides six Bibles to be won by three boys and three girls who shall score the highest number of points while raffling on the altar table. The successful candidates this year were Sydney Stevens, Frederick Ibbotc, Henry Watson, Mary Golding, Elizabeth Briars and Hilda Skeeles. —London Standard. Ip IjSFor Nervousness and Dyspepsia fill Use Horsford's Acid phosphate.

Dr. C. Graham, Chicago, 111., says: "I have used it for years in cases of nervous exhaustion, insomnia and certain kinds of dyspepsia, and would be at a loss to find in tbe whole materia medica anything which would take its place and give as satisfactory results in the above mentioned disorders.''

IAUie May Bentley

Born a Genius

Disease Threatens to Cut 8hort a Noble Career But Hood's Sarsaparllla Restores

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heartily Join with the many thousands that are recommending Hood's Sarsaparllla. I had been troubled from Infancy with gathering* la head. 1 was compelled to leave school upon doctor's advice. He thought it was the only to save my life, but I

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Hood's Pills act easily, yet promptly sod •l&ciently, on the liver and bowels. 25c.

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