The Syracuse Journal, Volume 20, Number 25, Syracuse, Kosciusko County, 18 October 1928 — Page 7

The Red JRodU c>4 Romance of* AXtY Braddocks w A* Hugh Pendexter lllusirdlions by •** %/K* Irwin MyERS .' * Zui IBK . tCsSw w. im .u. service Copyright bq Hugh Pendexter • 9/»

CHAPTER Vlll—Continued There came a flare of light through <he loopholes that lit up her pale face vividly, and then a tremendous crash *and the cabin seemed to under the vibrations. Afraid it was too good to he true, I stepped to the small win •dow, set high under the /eaves, and looked up to the heaveris. 1 could have shouted aloud in Joy as I beheld the mighty wall of black and slate towering almost to the zenith with its lead-colored draperies dragging on the horizon. While we had talked add watched for danger the storm had Swept down the river upon uS- The open Ing grew dusky and it [would have been an easy task for the savages to have crawled close in the uncertain light. Again the Thunder-god hurled a spear at the water-serpent and the ■noise of the contest transcended all earth sounds. A strange meaning ran through the forest-crown and lofty tops bowed and swayed ijlthougb as yet there was no air ,mo Hng in the •opening. >f ’l’m thinking it’s going' to ra.n,” remarked the girl in a Hunt voice. “Thank God. yes! Stay back there to see they try no tricks,” I cautioned as she came toward me. The lightning ripped across the face •of the clouds, and the girl £ave a little squeal. I went to her to learn what was the matter. | “Not Injuns.” she whispered “Vtn thinking I’m scared of these sort of •storms.” It seemed impossible that one who had shown such absolute control of nerves could be frightened by a flash ■of lightning and the rumble of than--der. And yet she was clinging to me tike a child, striving to conquer her self, yet keeping her face pressed against my fringed sleeve so as no» to see the glare of the bolts. I en -deavored to soothe away ; her fears •by telling her the storm was our best friend; that it would make the cabin fire-proof, that it would Compel the Indians to keep their guns covered and their bow-strings protected from the rain. But as 1 talked 1 could feel her wince convulsively each time the ■god renewed rhe ancient strife. With a deafening roar the rain •time battering against the cabin, it was impossible to distinguish an ob ject fifty feet from,the door. Now was qhe time for the enemy to. attack and cut their way into us and finish us •with their belt weapons. Raising my voice about the*terrific drumming of the rain. I told the girl:.' 1 “We’ll go. The rain will wash out ■our trail. Fipd something to wrap around the rifles.” She found some oiled skins and we wrapped * them about our rifles. I -opened the door. The water was falling in torrents and the wind was blowing •with great velocity. Closing the door, we were plastered against the walls -for a moment by the force of the wind. J sought to shelter her by holding her •close to my side; and leaning against ithe stcrm. we made for the woods. We could not talk and we scarcely •could see because of the rain filling •our faces. We both realized that such •a downpour could not last long. Our [progress was slow, but finally I was •waist-deep in some cherry bushes. We [fought through these and came to drip»ping trees and entered among them. The uproar of the storm suddenly lessened now that we were walking •on ancient forest mold, and were sheltered from the wind. Rivulets of wa ter ran under our feet and there was oo need to hide our trait until we were two miles in the woods. We were as wet as two river-rats. It became strangely quiet in the dripping woods and we no longer shouted to make ourselves heard. How the storm was raging outside we could only guess. I feared it-was abating. “They’ll lose some time, mister, in making sure we’re not in the cabin, the girl philosophically remarked. “And it’s gifting so dark they can’t find our tracks even if we do leave some” “We must find a place under a rock where we can make a tire and you can dry out.” She laughed at me. and her voice was most musical because it was natural. “Hard work to drown a witch.” she said “I’ve fared hgrd before this and didn’t mind it.” I remembered those days when the House of the Open Hand entertained and when beauty must be gently wrapped in water-proof coverings and sent home in coaches. This wild young creature at my side had done a man’s work and more. She was made up of the outdoors. It grew very dark, and without stars to guide us we would have wandered blindly if not for a little run that we stumbled upon and which I remembered flowed parallel to Turtle creek. We took to the water, knee-deep because of the rain, and worked our way upstream by clutching at the overhanging boughs. We Anally left the stream where a windfall had smotb ered it. By the sense of touch alone I foupd a spot clear of brush and un dergrowth and informed my companion we must wait for daylight before pro seeding I could And no dry fuel, even tad I dared to build a tire. “We have water, but nc fire nor food.” I told her. “You re wrong, mister, about food. { fetched this along.” she answered; and Het hands found mine with a Homli package wrapped in deerskin. jt »<• -■••me of Frazier’s smoked

meat which sne had had the forethought to bring along. It was tough, but it was food, and we chewed it vigorously and felt the better for hav ing eaten It. "Lean against me,” I commanded. "It’ll be dreary waiting.” “Not so dreary as when we was tn the cabin, waiting.” she replied. And her head rested against my shoulder and very soon I rejoiced to find site was asleep. When she was entirely oblivious to our discomforts. I shifted her into my lap. and thus we passed the night; she sleeping the sleep of utter exhaustion and I afraid to move lest 1 disturb her. Near morning 1 dozed oft and was aroused by her hand pressing lightly on my shoulder. I came to my The Water Was Falling in Torrents and. the Wind Was Blowing With Great Velocity. feet and rubbed my legs and arms to drive out the kinks and cramps She whispered for me to make no noise, and 1 noted she had removed the coverings from the guns. “What is it?” I murmured, a terrible rage sweeping over me as I glared about to discover the relentless foe. She shook her head and said: “I thought 1 heard something mov ing toward us.” Footsteps would fall softly on the wet ground, and. after listening without hearing anything, I told her: “Some animal got the scent of us and turned tail.” Her small hand gripped my arm foi silence. Men were coming. I heard a voice say something in the Delaware tongue. She pulled her Highland pistol from her blouse and noiselessly re moved its wrapping. Then her hand found mine and gave it a convulsive squeeze, and her soft voice was say ing: “Mister, you’ve been powerful good to me. We’ve made a good fight foi it. It won’t be awful hard this way. Don’t let ’em catch you alive. If I go first. I’ll be waiting for you.” 1 gently pushed her behind me and she sank at the foot of a tree. I drew my ax and knife and placed them beside me as I sank to one knee and gath ered up the two rifles. Over my shoul der I whispered: “Don’t use the pistol on any Indian. Remember!”

Peasant’s Retort Won French King’s Praise

The subject of King Henri IV, “le bon roi Henri,” he who said Faris was well worth a mass, is inexhaustible and the French always receive a book of anecdotes and biographical details op him with delight. From the latest volume Pierre Van Paassen. writing in the Atlanta Constitution, culls this incident. One day the king was pass ing through a village where he was obliged to halt for dinner. Before sit ting down tie asked the host of the tavern: “Invite me rhe man who passes for being the most spirited in your commune.” King Henri was told that it was a fellow named Gail lard. “Go and fetch him.” ordered the king. The peasant soon arrived. Hen ri told him to sit opposite at the table and to share his meal of roast chicken with Chablis. “What’s your name?” asked the king. “Sire.” replied the rustic, “my name is Gaillard.” “What difference is there between a gaillard (genial, good-hearted fellow) and a paillard (scoundrel)?” “Sire,” came Telegraph and Railroads The history of the development of the electric telegraph in the United States is Inextricably bound up with that of American railways, says the Western Union Telegraph company. The first public telegraph line, constructed by Samuel F. B. Morse between Baltimore and Washington tn 1843, followed the tine of the Baltimore & Ohio railroad, the first American railroad, and to this day the greater part of the 2.000,(MM) miles ol telegraph wires- in the United States are constructed along the routes of the various railway systems. Tin Western Union company alone has working contracts with more than 350 railroad companies.

“We must go faster,’ said a voice tn Delaware, only I knew It was a white man speaking. “They'll follow us very fast.” I shivered with a thrill of hope, but dared not give any encouragement to the girl. I glanced back at her. Her face showed none of the anger 1 had witnessed at the Witches Head when she was menaced by the mob. It was placid of expression, and s-he met my gaze with a little smile of encouragement. We could hear them making their way along the windfall. Sudden ly they burst into view: two Indians and a white man. One of the Indians was carrying a fresh scalp fastened to the end of a short rod. 1 reached back and snatched the pistol from the girl's hand and cried out: “If that be Christopher Gist, we are friends.” The three vanished as it by magic. After a few moments the white man replied: “I am Gist. Who are you? Speak sharp, My Indians are uehvous.” “Black Brood, returning from a scout to Duquesne, I have a young friend with me.” In Delaware I added. “Tell your friends we are your friends, and that there is a large baud of Pontiac’s men chasing us.” CHAPTER IX The Fatal Errand This meeting with Gist ana his two Indians was most pleasing to us. although the Delawares did not care enough for our company to slacken their pace. They ranged ahead while Gist traveled with us. He gave us much,news On July third the Indians ! had refused to go on a scout, but on ■ the following day two trad been induced to accompany him. The three of them had advanced to within half a njile of the fort and had treen deterred from approaching closer because ot the excitement occasioned by the escape of the girl, the Onondaga ; and myself. They did not know whar ■ had happened, but with so much yelling and howling and running into the woods the Delawares had taken fright and declared the entire red force was starting to attack the army. Two Indians had sighted Gist and had chased I him for some distance. The Delawares surprised and scalped the i Frenchman the Dinwold girl had . stumbled upon among the bramble [ bushes. Gist said he and his companions had attempted to follow Turtle creek to its head, where they had expected to find the army, but had been turned j back by a large band of savages coming down the creek. They had taken refuge in a windfall and had remained in hiding through the violent storm. This delay permitted the girl and me to get in advance of them. In scouting to the neighborhood oi the fort they had found the fords open and without any signs ot an ambuscade being prepared. Nor had they discovered any trace of the enemy’s savages being outside the immediate vicinity of the fort until the night of our escape. When Gist set out from the army camp, Braddock was about to march to Thicketty run, a small branch of Sewickley creek. Time had been lost at Jacobs’ creek in waiting for Colonel’ Dunbar’s provision train to come up. Many of St. Clair’s road-builders were on the sick list, and quite a number of them had died. The wagon horses were in miserable condition. Colonel Washington was too ill to travel and had not rejoined the army up to July fourth. “You have nothing but bad talk in your bag.” I remarked. “We have one French scalp," he grimly replied. “And since June twen-ty-fifth Braddock has been paying five pounds apiece for scalps But none of our scouts are getting rich on the bounties. If we could only get ahead faster, and reach the fort before all our soldiers are dead, or too sick to fight, we’d win just by showing ourselves. Mr. William Shirley, the gen eral’s secretary, is very much disgusted and discouraged at the way things are being managed. He says he doubts our success. But talk tike that is all foolishness, of course. If we can only hold out till we reach : Duquesne, we'll whip the French easy [ enough.” (TO BE CONTINUED.)

back the peasant without a moment’s hesitation, “there’s only a wooden table between them.” “Ventre Saintgris!” roared the king, “that’s a good one. I had never expected to find such a great spirit -in such a small village.” Silent Pearl Peddlers Chinese pearl peddlers are the talk ot Paris, because they seem to avoid talk themselves. People become interested in the small, quiet merchants who stand silently out of the way of sidewalk traffic with many strings of false pearls on their arms. Their eyes alone are in motion searching the crowds for customers. As soon as they notice a slight hesitation they smile, and the smile seems to bring the prospective buyer to them. A hundred of these sidewalk sellers have formed a colony in Paris. They come from the province of Chekiang. Children Disapprove A new minister had come to a small rural town, and being young and a trifle dashing, had been barbered with sideburns. A group of little girls of the parish surveyed him critically and had not much to say for the new pastor. This hostile attitude on the part of their children was most trying to the women of the church, so one mother asked her smart daughter what the trouble seemed to be. The little girl explained it thus: “Oh. he thinks he is cute, wearing those sunburns on his face.” Desire Never Fulfilled Our desires always disappoint us; for though we meet with something that gives us satisfaction, yet it never thoroughly answers our expectation.— Rochefoucauld. &

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