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VOL. 41. f YORKVILLE, S. C., WEDNESDAY, JA.ISTTJARY 23, 1895. ISTO. 4.
- v.
BY RIDER
Author of "King Solomon's!
"Allen Quan
opyrlght, 1893, by the Author.
CHAPTER XXIX.
THE END OF GUATEMOC.
Now for awhile we dwelt in quiet at the
City of 'Pines, and by slow degrees and
with much suffering I recovered from the
wounds that the cruel hand of Do Garcia
had inflicted upon me. But wo knew that
this peace could not last, and the people of
the Otomic knew it also, for had they not
scourged the envoys of Molincheoutof tho
gates of their city? Many of them were
now sorry that this had been done, but it
was done, and they must reap as they had
finwn
So they made ready for war, and Otomlo
was tho president of their councils, in
which I shared. At length came nows
that a forco 'of 50 Spaniards, with 5,000
Tlascaian allies, wero advancing on tho*
city to destroy us. Then I took command
of the tribesmen of tho Otomic?there
wero 10,000 or more of them, all well
armed after their own fashion?and advanced
out of tho city till I was two-thirds
of the way down tho gorge which leads to
it. But I did not bring nil my array down
this gorge, since there was no room for
them to fight there, and I had another
plan. I sent somo 7,000 men round tho
mountains, of which the secret paths were
well known to them, bidding them climb
to the crest of tho precipices that bordered
cither sido of tho gorge, and there, at certain
places where tho cliff is sheer and
more than 1,000 feet in height, to make a
great provision of stones.
Tho rest of my army, exoepting 500*
whom I kept with mo, I armed with bowl
and throwing spears and stationed them
in ambush in convenient places where tho
sides of tho cliff were broken and in suoh
fashion that rocks from above could not
bo rolled on them. Then I sent trusty men
as spies to warn mo of the approach of the
Spaniards and others wh?>so mission it
was to offer tnemseives to tnem as guraw. ;
Now, I thought my plan good, and every- j
thing looked well, and yet it missed fciluro
but by a very little, for Maxtla, .our
enemy and tho friend of tho Spaniards,
was in my camp?indeed I had brought
him with mo that I might watch bfaa? ;
and ho had not been idle.
For when tho Spaniards were Vdf n
day's march from the mouth of thGdefllo .
ono of thoso men whom I had told.off to !
watch their advance camo to 1110 undmodo
it known that Maxtlu had bribed Mm to :
go to tho leader of tho Spaniards and disclose
to him tho plan of tho ambuscade.
This man had tuken tho bribo andstarted
on his errand of treachery, butMs heart
foiled him, and returning ho told mo all.
Then I caused Maxtlu to be seized, and bo- I
for? nightfall he had paid th<?priooof his
wickedness. j
On the morning after his death the
Spanish array entered the past Half way
down it I met them with my 100 men and
engaged them, but suffered tfem to drive t
us bock with some loss. As fiicy followed 1
they grew bolder, and wo flodfaster till at |
length weflow down thedeflb, followed by
tho Spanish horse. Now, some three furlongs
from its mouth that loads to the City !
of Pines this pjiss turns and narrows, and
hero the cliffs are so sheer and high that a
twilight reigns ut tho foot of them.
Down tho narrow way wo ran in seem- j
ing rout, and after us camo the Spaniards
shouting 011 their saint* and Hushed with
victory. But scarcely had wo turned tho
t corner when thoy saqgapnotlicr song,/for 1
thoso who wore watching 1,000 feet above
us gave the signal, and down from on high
came a rain of 6tonee and bowlders that
darkened tho ulr nnd crashed among them, I
crushing many of them. _ I
On they struggled, seeing a wider way I
in front where tho cliffs sloped, and perhaps
half of them won through. But hero i
tho archers were waiting, and now, in tho '
place of stones, arrows were hailed upon 1
them till at length, utterly bewildered
and unablo to strike a blow in their own
defense, they turned to fly toward the open
country. This flolshod the light, for now
we assailed their flank, mul once more the ,
rocks thundered on them from above, and ,
tho end of it was that those who remained
of the Spaniards and their Indian allies
wcro driven in utter rout back to the plain
beyond the pass of Pines.
After this battle the Spaniards troubled
us no more for many years except by ,
throats, and my name grew great among
tho peoplo of the Otomie.
One Spaniard I rescued from death, and
afterward I gave him his liberty. From
him I Inquired of the doings of I)c Garcia
or Sarccda and learned that he was still in
the service of Cortes, but that Marina had
bt-cn true to her word and had brought dis- ;
grace upon him because he had threatened
to put Otomie to the torture. Moreover, j
Cortes was angry with him because of our
escape, tho burden of which Marina had
laid upon h!i shoulders, hinting that he
had taken a bribe to suffer us to pass tho
gate. -\ .
Of tho 14years of my life which followed
tho defeat of the Spaniards I can speak
briefly, for, compared to the time that had
gone beforo, they were years of quiet. In
them children were lx>rn to me and Otomie?throe
sons?and these children were J
my great Joy, for I loved them dearly, and j
they loved mo. Indeed, except for the j
strain of their mother's blood, they were j
English and not Indian, for I christened
them all and taught them our English
tonguoand faith, and their mien and eyes j
were more English than Indian, though
their skins were dark. But I hail no luck
with these dear children of mine any
more thun I have had with that which j
Lily bore inc. Two of them died?ono
from a fever that all my skill would I
not avail to cure, and another by a fall
from a lofty cedar tr^p, which he climbed
Riwwkino fi\t> u unst,. Thus of tho
three of them?since I do not speak now j
of tfet infant, my firstborn, who perished t
in tie siege?there remained to mr, only
tw eldest and best beloved, of whom I ,
must tell hereafter.
J*or the rest, jointly with Otomie I was
named caziquo of the City of Pines at a 1
freat council tl^vt was held after I had de- 1
^^Jtrused the Spaniards and their allies, and
Ifcwe had wide though not absolute
powert-tiy the exe'reiso of typ'^WeFCTT
the entx I succeeded in abolishing the hor- !
rible rites of human sacrifice., nhough, because
of this, a large number oi tin- outlying
tribes fell away from our rule, and the
enmity of the priests was excited against
me. The last sucrlflce, except one only, tho j
most terrible of them all, of which I will \
/ tell.afterward, that was ever celebrated on
the tcocalli in front of tho palace took
place after the defeat of tho Spaniards in |
tho pass.
When I had dwelt three years in tho
/ City of Pines and two sons had been born '
to me then.-, secret messengers arrived
that were to be sent by the friends of Guutcmoe,
who had survived the torture and
was still a prisoner in the hands of Cortes. ;
From these messengers we learned that I
Cortes was about to start upon an expedition
to the gulf of Honduras, across tho
country that is now known as Yucatan,
taking Guatemoc and other Aztec nobles
with him, for ho feared to leave them be- !
hind. We heard also that there was much
murmuring among tho conquered tribes of
Anahuac because of the crucifies and exI
tortious of the Spaniards, and many
thought that the hour had come when a
rising against them might be carried to a
- successful issue.
This was the prayer of those who sent
the envoys?that I should raise a force of
Otomies and travel with it across the country
to Yucatun, and therewith others who
would be gathered wait a favorable opportunity
to throw myself upon the Spaniards
when they were entangled in the
forests and swamps, putting them to the
crenrd and releasing Guatemoc. Such was
IB ^ that
K When the message had been delivered I
M shook my head sudly, for I could s^e J
B hope In such a scheme, but the chief of t
messengers rose and led mo nsia,. * ? '
that ho had a word for my ?oT ' yi"g
S "Guatemoc sends these words 1 ]?. ?nM
V " 'I hear that you, my brother, arc freS
safe with my cousin Otomio in the nioun
K tains of the Otomie. I, alas, linger In f>?.
S prisons of the Tcules life.? a crippled cade
I In a cage. My brother, if Jt Ys in ^
jfe.; power to help me, do so, I conjure you by
the memory of our ancient friendship knd
Bp \' of all that wo have suffered together
Hg|R Then a time may still come when I shali
rule again in Anahuac, and you shall sit
at my side.' " ,
1
^AaaARD,
Mines," "She," "He," "Jess,*
termain," etc.
I heard, and my heart was stirred, for
then, M to this liour, I loved Guatcmoc
as a brother.
"Goback," I said, 1 and find means to
i tell Guatcmoc that if I can save him I will,
though I have small hopes that way. Still I
let him look for me in the forests of Yuen- I
tan."
Now, when Otomio heard of this promise
of mine she was vexed, for she said
that It was foolish and would only end in
my losing my life. Still, having given it,
shekeld with mo that it must be carried
1 nut and the end of it was that I raised 500
man, and with them set out upon my long
unl toilsome march, which I timed so us
to meet Cortes in the passes of Yucatan.
Afctho last moment Otomic wished to nc- j
company me, but I forbade it, pointing
oat that she could leave neither of her chil- ,
dwn, and wo parted with bitter grief for j
the first time.
"Of all tho hardships that I underwent I i
Will not write. For 2)4 months wo strug- j
gled on across mountains and rivers and j
through swamps and forests till at last |
tre reached a mighty deserted city that is
called Palenquc by tho Indians of those j
parts, which has been uninhabited for
many generations. This city is tho most
marvelous place that I have seen in all my
travels, though much of it is hidden in I
bush, for wherever tho traveler wanders 1
there ho finds vast palaces of marble, car
yen within and without, nnd sculptured I
teocallis and the huge images of grinning !
gods. Often have I wondered what na- !
tion was strong enough to build such a
capital, and who were the kings that dwelt j
in it. But these arc secrets belonging to j
the past, and they cannot bo answered till 1
some learned man has found tho key to
the stono symbols and writings with
which the walls of the buildings arc cov- i
cred over.
In tills city I hid with my men, though j
it was no easy task to persuade them to ;
take up their habitation among so many
ghosts of tho departed, not to speak of the
noisomo fevers and tho wild beasts and
snakes that haunted it, for 1 had information
that tho Spaniards would puss through
tho swamp that lies between the ruins and
tho river, and there I hoped to ambush
them. But on tho eighth day of my hiding
I learned from spies that Cortes had
crossed the great river higher up and was
cutting liis way through the forest, for of
swamps he had passed more than enough.
So I hurried ulso to the river, intending to i
cross it. But all that day and all that j
night it rained as it can rain nowhere else j
flwt thnf; T lmvn cAon Mil fit. limt '
wo waded on our road knee deep in water, [
and when wo coino to the ford of the river I
it was to find a wide, roaring flood that j
no man could pass in anything less frail j
than a Yarmouth herring boat. So there |
on the bank wo must stay in misery, suf- ;
fcring many ills from fever, lack of food
and plcntitude of water, till at length the j
stream ran down.
Three days and nights we waited there, j
and on the fourth morning I made shift |
to cross, losing four men by drowning in i
tho passage. Once over, I hid my force in
tho bush and reeds and crept forward with
six men only to see if I could discover |
anything of tho whereabouts of tho Span- j
iards. Within an hour I struck tho trail
that they had cut through tho forest and :
followed it cautiously. Presently wo came j
to a spot where the forest wus thin, and j
here Cortes had camped, for there was heat
left in the ashes of ins fires, and among
them lay the body of an Indian who had j
died from sickness. Not 50 yards from !
this camp stood a huge cciba, a tree that I
has u liubit of growth not unlike that of j
our English oak, though it is soft wooded
and white barked and will increase moro ;
in bulk in 20 years than any oak m-iy in i
100.
Indeed I never yet saw an oak tree so !
large as this ceiba of which I write, either j
in girth or in its spread of top, unless it be j
tho Kirby oak or the tree that is called the ,
King of Scoto, whicli grows at Broome,
that is the next parish to this of Ditching- !
ham, in Norfolk. On this ceiba trco many j
zaphilotes or vultures were perched, and as j
wo crept toward it I saw what it was they I
came to seek, for from the lowest branches j
of the ceiba three corpses swung in tho ;
breeze. "Here arc tho Spaniards' foot- j
prints," I said. "Let us look at them,"
and we passed beneath the shadow of the :
tree.
As I came, a zaphilotc .alighted on the j
head of the body thut hung nearest to me,
and its weight or the wafting of the j
fowl's wing caused the dead man to turn
round so that he came face to face with
me. I looked, started buck, then locked
again und sank to the curth groaning, for
here was he whom I had come to seek and
save, my brother, Guatemoc, the last emperor
of Anahuac. Hero ho hung in the
dim and desolate forest, dead by the death
of a thief, while the vulture shrieked upon
his head. I sat bewildered and horror
stricken, and as I sat I remembered the
proud sign of Aztec royalty, a bird of prey
clasping an udder in its claw. There before
me was the last of the stock, and, behold,
a bird of prey gripped his hair in its
talons, a fitting emblem indeed of the fall
of Anahuac and the kings of Anahuac!
I sprang to my feet, with an oath, und
lifting the bow I held I sent an arrow i
through the vulture, and it fell to the earth
fluttering and screaming. Then I bade
thoso with 1110 to cut down the corpses of
Guatemoc and of the prince of Tacuba and
another noble who hung with him ana I
hollow a deep grave beneath the tree, j
There I laid them, and there I left them J
to sleep forever in its melancholy shadow,
and thus for tho last timo I saw Guutcmoc,
my brother, whom I came far to savo and
found ready for burial by tho Spaniard.
Then 1 turned my face homeward, for
now Anahuac had no king to rescue, but
it chanced that licforo I went I caught a
Tlascalan who could speak Spanish, and
who had deserted from the army of Cortes
becauso of the hardships that lie suffered
in their toilsome march. This man was
present at the murder of Guatemoc and j
his companions and heard the emperor's |
last words. It seems that some knave j
had betrayed to Cortes that an attempt
wuuld bumude to rescuo tjfte prince, and
that tfiereon Cortes comniAndod that lie
should be hung. It scoins/niso that Guatemoc
mot his death as he Had mot tho misfortunes
of his life?proudly and wnhout
fear. These were Ids l;?st words: '1 did
ill, Malinche, when I held my hand from
taking my own life before 1 surrendered
mvsolf to you. Then my lioart told mo
that all your promises were false, and it [
has not lied to mc. I welcome my death, i
for I havo lived to know shame and defeat 1
and torture and to sec my people the slaves |
of the Tculo, but still I say that God will
reward you for this deed."
Then they murdered him in the mldstof
a great silence.
And so farewell to Guatemoc, the most
brave, the l>est and the noblest Indian that ,
ever breathed, and may the shadow of his
tonncntings and shameful end lie deep upon
the fntno of Cortes for so long as the j
names of both of them are remembered
among men!
For two more months I journeyed home- i
ward, and at length I reached the City of
Pines well, though wearied, ami having 1
lost only 4b men by various misadventures,
to find Otomie in good health and overjoyed
to know me safe whom she thought
never to see again. Hut when I told her
what was the end of her cousin Guatemoc
she grieved bitterly, both for his sake and ;
because the last hope of the Aztecs was
gone, and sho would not lie comforted for J
many days.
C1IAPTKR XXX.
ISABELLA I)K SKM'KXZA IS AVKN(iEI).
For many years after the death of Guatemoc
I lived with Otomie at peace in the
City of Pines. Our country was poor and |
rugged, and, though we defied the Spanlards
and paid them no tribute, now that j
Cortes had gone back to Spain tlicy had no
heart to attempt our conquest. Save some
few tribes that lived in difficult places like
ourselves, all Analmaewas in their power,
and there was little to gain except hard
blows in the bringing of a remnant of the
people of tho Otomie beneath their yoke,
bo they let us be till a more convenient
scuson. I say of a remnant of tho Otomie, j
for as time went on many clans submitted ,
to tho Spaniards till at length we ruled
over tho City of Pines alono and sonic j
leagues of territory about it. Indeed it
was only love for Otomie and respect for i
the shadow of her ancient race and name, :
together with some reverence fur me as one '
[ of the unconquerable white men anil for
my skill as a general, that kept our fol!
lowing together.
And so tho years rolled on, bringing litj
tie cliango with them, till I grew sure that
i hero in this far place I should live and die.
But that was not to bo my fate.
If nny should read this, tho story of my
early life, ho will remember that tho talc
of tho death of a certain Isabella do Sig'
uenza is pieced into its motley. Ho will
remember how-this Isabella, in tho last
moments of her life, called down a curse
upon that holy father who ndded outrage
and insult to her torment, praying that ho
might also dio by the hands of fanatics
I and in a worso fashion. After the conquest
of Anahuac by Cortes, among others
j this samo llcry priest camo from Spain to
turn the Indians to tho love of God by torment
and by sword. Indeed of all of thoso
who entered on this mission of peaco ho
was tho most zealous. The Indian pabas
wrought cruelties enough when, tearing
out tho victim's heart, they offered it liko
incense to Huitzcl or to Quetzal, but they
at least dismissed his soul to the mansions
of tho sun. With the Christian priests tho
thumbscrew and tho stake took the place
of tho stono of sacrifice, but the soul which
they delivered from its earthly bondage
they consigned to tho house of hell.
Of theso priests a certain Father Pedro
was tho boldest and tho most cruel. To
and fro ho passed, marking his path with
tho corpses of idolaters, until he earned
tho namo of tho "Christian devil." At
length ho venturcu too rar 111 ma noiy icrvor
and was seized by a clan of tho Otomlo
that had broken from our rulo upon this
very question of human sacrifice, but
which was not yet subjugated by the Spaniards.
One day?it was when wo had
ruled for some 14 years in tho City of Pines
?it came to my knowlcdgo that the pabas
of this clan had captured a Christian priest
and designed to offer him to the god Tczcut.
Attended by a small guard only, I passed
rapidly across the mountains, purposing
to visit tho caziquc of this clan, with
whom, although he had cast off his allegianco
to us, I still kept up a show of
friendship, and, if I could, to persuado
him to release the priest. But swiftly as I
traveled the vengeance of the pabas had
been moro swift, and I arrived at the village
only to find tho ''Christian devil" in
tho act of being led to sacrifice before the
image of a hideous idol that was set upon
a 6tako and surrounded with piles of
6kulls. Naked to the waist, his hands
bound behind him, his grizzled locks hanging
about his breast, his keen eyes fixed
upon tho faces of his heathen foes in menace
rather than in supplication, his thin
lips muttering prayers, Father Pedro
passed on to the place of his doom, now
and again shaking his head fiercely to free
himself from tho torment of the insects
which buzzed about it.
I looked upon him and wondored. I
looked again and knew. Suddenly there
roso before my mind a vision of thnt
gloomy vault in Seville of a woman, young
and lovely, draped in cerements, and of a
thin faced, black rolled friar who smote
her upon tho lips with his ivory crucifix
and cursed licr for a blaspheming heretic.
Thcro before mo wus tho man. Isabella do
Siguenzn had prayed that a fate liko to
her own should liefall him, and it was
upon him now. Nor indeed, remembering
all that had liecn, was I minded to
avert it, even if it had been in my power
to do so. I stood by and let the victim
pass, but as ho passed I spoke to him in
Spanish, saying:
"Remember that which it may well bo
you havo forgotten, holy father. Remember
now the dying prayer of Isabella do
Slguenza, whom many years ago you did
to death in Seville."
Tho man heard me. Ho turned livid be
n?ith ills tironzeu stun ana staggercu until
I thought that ho would have fallen. Ho
stared upon mc with terror in his eye to
see, as bo believed, a common sight enough,
that of an Indian chief rejoicing at the
death of ono of his oppressors.
"What devil arc you," ho said hoarsely,
"sent from hell to torment mo at tho 1081!""
"Remember tho dying prayer of Isabella
do Siguoiiza, whom you sthitfc n'nd
cursed," I answered, mocking. "Seek not
to know whence I am, but remember this
only, now and forever."
For a moment ho stood still, heedless of
the^rgingsof his tormentors. Then his
coui go came to him again, and ho cried
with a great voice: "Get thee behind me,
satan. What have I to fear from thee? I
remember that dead sinner well?may licr
soul liavo peace?and her curse has fallen
upon mc. I rejoice that it should bo so,
for on tho farther side of yonder stone the
gates of heaven open to my sight. Get thee
behind me, satan. What have I to fear
from thee?"
* Crying thus, ho staggered forward, saying:
"O God, into thy hand I commend
my spirit!" May his soul have peace also,
for if ho was cruel at least ho was bravo
and did not shrink beneath those torments
which he had iuilicted on many others.
Now this was a little matter, but its results
were large. Had I saved Father Pedro
from the hunds of the pabas of tho Otomie
it is likely enough that I should not
today bo writing this history hero in tho
valley of tho Waveney. I do not know if
T r>rml<l Vinvn cnml Mm I nnlv know that
I did not try, and that because of his death
great sorrows came upon inc. Whether I
was right or wrong, who can say? Those
who judge my story may think that in this
as in other matters I was wrong. Had
they seen Isabella do Siguenzu dio within
her living tomb certainly they would hold
that I was right. But for good or ill,
matters came about as I have written.
And it conic about also that the new
viceroy sent from Spain was stirred to anger
at the murder of the friar by the rebellious
and heathen people of the Otomle
and set himself to take vengeance on the
tribe that wrought the deed.
Soon tidings reached mo that a great
forco of Tlascalan and other Indians were
being collected to put an end to us root
and branch, and that with them marched
more than a hundred Spaniards, the expedition
being under the command of none
other than the Captain Bcrnal Diaz, that
Siune soldier whom I had spared in the
slaughter of the nochc trlste, and whoso
sword to this day hung at my side.
Now we must needs prepare our defense,
for our only hope lay in boldness. Once
before the Spaniards had attacked us with
thousands of their allies, and of their number
but few had lived to look again on the
camp of Cortes. What had been done
could be done for a second time?so said
Otomio in tho pride of her unconquerable
heart. But, alas, in 11 years things had
changed much with us. Fourteen years
ago we held sway over a great district of
mountains, whose crude clans would send
up their warriors in hundreds at our call.
Now these clans had broken from our yoke,
which was acknowledged by the people of
tho City of Pines alone and thosp of 6omo
adjacent villages. When tho Spaniards
came down on me the first timev^l was
able to muster an army of lo.ouo -.nldicrs
to oppose them; now, with much toil, i
could collect no more than Itetween 2,000
ami d.noo men, and of these some slipped
away as the hour of danger drew nigh.
Still I must put a bold face on my necessities
and make what play I might with
such forces as lay tit my command, although
in my heart 1 feared much for the
issue. But of my fears I said nothing to
Otomio, and if she felt any she, on her
part, buried them in her breast. In truth,
I do believe her faith in me was so groat
that site thought my single wit enough to
overmatch all the armies of the Spaniards.
a>OW ill' ll'Il^Ul iixu riuiii,t viiv ?> u\ai,
and I set my battle as I had done I t years
iK'fore, advancing down the pass by which
alone they could approach us with a small
portion of my force and stationing the remainder
in two equal companies upon
either brow of the beetling cliffs that overhung
the road, having command to overwhelm
the Spaniards with rocks, hurled
upon them from above, so soon as I should
give the signal by Hying ln-fore them down
tin- pass Other measures I took also, for
seeing that, do what I would, it. might
happen that we should he driven back
upon the city, I caused its walls and gates
to be set in order and garrisoned them. .As
a hist resource, too, I stored the lofty summit
of the teoealli, which, now that sacrifices
were no longer offered there, was used
us un arsenal for the material of war, with
water and provisions and fortified its sides
by walls studded with volcanic glass and
by other devices till it seemed well nigh
impossible that any should be able to force
them while a score of men still lived to
offer a defense.
It was on one night in the early summer,
having bid farewell to Otomie and
taking my son with me, for he was now of
on age when, according to the Indian customs,
lads are brought face to face with
the* dangers of battle, that I dispatched
the appointed companies to their stations
on the brow of the precipice and sallied
into the darksome mouth of the pass with
the few hundred men who were left to me.
I knew by my spies that the Spaniards
who were encamped on the farther side
would attempt its passage an hour before
the daylight, trusting to finding me asleep.
I And, sure enough, on the following morn
1 ing, so early that the first rays of tne sun
hud not yet stained the lofty snows of the
| volcnn Xucu that towered behind us, a
j distant niurmuring which echoed through
j the silcnco of the night told ine that the
enemy had lx-gun his inarch. I moved !
down the pass to meet him easily enough, j
There was 110 stone in it that was not
known to me and my men. But with the
Spaniards it was otherwise, for many of
them were mounted, and, moreover, they !
dragged with them two carronades. Time
i upon time these heavy guns remained fast
in the bowlder strewn roadway, for in tho j
darkness the slaves who drew them could 1
find no places for the wheels to run on, j
till in tho end the captains of the army, j
unwilling to risk a fight at 60 great a dLs!
advantage, ordered them to halt until the I
day broke.
At length the dawn cumc, and the light ,
fell dimly down tho depths of the vast '
gulf, revealing the long ranks of tho Span
| iards clad In their bright armor ana tno |
yet more brilliant thousands of their nativo
allies, gorgeous in their painted helms
, and their glittering coats of feathers.
They saw us nlso, and mocking nt our
poor array their column twisted forward t
like some huge snako in the crack of ft
rock till they came to within a hundred
paces of us. Then tho Spaniards raised |
their Iwttlcery of St. Peter, nnd lanco at
; rest they charged us with their horse. We !
met them with a rain of arrows that j
! checked them a little, but not for long. \
' Soon they were among us, driving us |
j back at the point of their lances and slay- j
j ing many, for our Indian weapons could 1
! work little harm to men and horses clad j
in armor. Therefore we must fly, and in!
deed flight was my plan, for by it I hoped j
to lead the foe to that part of tho defllo 1
I where tho road was narrow nnd tho cliffs 1
' sheer, and they might l>c crushed by tho j
} stones which should hail on them from
I above. All went well. We fled. The Span- I
j lards followed, flushed with victory, till [
j they were fairly in the trap. Now a singlo j
i bowlder camo rushing from on high, and I
falling on a horso killed him, then, rebounding,
carried dismay and wounds to ;
those behind. Another followed, and yet j
I another, nnd I grew glad at licart, for it !
j seemed to me that tho danger was over, |
and that for the second timo my strategy j
had succeeded
But suddenly from above there camo a ;
i sound other than that of tho rushing rocks, |
, tho sound of men joining in battle, that ,
grew till tho air was full of its tumult; !
: then something whirled down from on i
high. I looked. It was no stone, but a j
j man, ono of my own men. Indeed he
! was but as tho first raindrop of a shower.
Alas, I saw tho truth! I had been out,
wittcd. The Spaniards, old in war, could
not bo caught twice by such a trick. They
advanced down tho pass with the carron|
odes indeed, because they must, but first
: they sent great bodies of men to climb tho
i mountain under shelter of the night by soI
crct paths which had been discovered to
them, and there on its summit to deal
j with those who would stay their passage j
j by hurling rocks upon them.
And in truth they dealt with them hut j
I too well, for my men of the Otoinie, lying ;
j on tho verge of tho cliff among tho scrub j
of aloes and other prickly plants that grew I
; there, watching tho advance of the foe be- |
ncntli anil never lor one moment iireain- j
ing that foes might he upon their flank,
were utterly surprised. Scarcely had they j
timo to seize their weapons, which were j
laid atvthcir sides that they might have
the greater freedom in the rolling of heavy
1 masses of rock, when the enemy, who out- >
| numbered them by far, were upon them I
| with a yell. Then came a fight, short, but :
! decisive.
Too late I saw it all anil cursed the j
| folly that had not provided against such I
chances, for indeed I never thought it pes- !
j Bible that the forces of the Spaniards could j
j find the secret trails upon the farther side
| of the mountain, forgetting that treason
j makes most tilings possible.
CHAPTER XXXI.
THE SIEGE OF THE CITY OF PINES.
The battle was already lost. From a
thousand feet above us swelled the shouts j
| of victory. The battle was lost, and yet I
j must light on. As swiftly as I could I
i withdrew those who were left to me to a
i certain angle in the path, where a score of
' desperate men might forawhile hold back
; the advance of an army. Here I called for
j some to stand at my side, and many an!
swered to my call. Out of them I chose
i 50 men or more, bidding the rest run hard
: for the City of Pines, there to warn those
! who were left in garrison that the hour of i
| danger was upon them, and, should I fall, j
: to conjure Otomie, my wife, to make the I
j best resistance in her power till, if it were j
; possible, she could wring from the Span- J
' lards a promise of safety for herself, her j
: child and her people. Meanwhile I could j
: hold the pass so that time might be given
i to shut the gates and man the walls. With ;
! the main body of those who were left to '
i me I sent back my son, though ho prayed !
! hard to Ik; allowed to stay with me. But, |
j seeing nothing before mo except death, I j
J refused him.
Presently all were gone, anil fearing a |
I snare the Spaniards came slowly and eau- I
tiously round the angle of the rock, and 1
seeing so few men mustered to meet them, 1
halted, for now. they were certain that wo '
I had set a trap for them, since they did not j
I flilnt- If, unusable flint such a little hand !
would venture to oppose their array. Hero I
tlio ground lay so that only it few of them
could come against us at one time, nor
could they bring their heavy pieces to bear }
[ upon us, and even their arquebuses helped i
I them but little; also the roughness of the
i road forced them to dismount from their !
! horses, so that if they would attack at all j
it must be on foot. This in tho end they l
chose to do. Many fell upon either side, |
though I myself received no wound, but in i
the end they drove us back; inch by inch j
they drove us back, or rather those who !
were left of us, at the points of their long
lances, till at length they forced us Into
the mouth of tho pass that is sonio five
furlongs distant from what was once tho |
wall of the City of Pines.
To fight further was of no avail. Ilerc
wo must choose between death and (light,
| and, as may bo guessed, for wives' anil
children's sake, if not for our own, we
chose to fly. Across the plain we fled like j
deer, and after us came the Spaniards and
their allies like hounds. Happily the |
ground was rough with stones, so that their
I horses could not gallop freely, and thus it
I happened that some of us, perhaps Sit), {
gained tho gates in safety. Of my army j
not more than 500 in all lived to enter I
them again, and perchance there were as i
j many left within the city.
1 The heavy gates swung to,( and scarcely i
1 wero they barred with tho massive beams |
; of oak when the foremost of the Spaniards :
j rode up to them. My bow was still in my i
! hand, and there was one arrow left in my 1
j quiver. I set it on the string, and draw- ,
lng tho bow with my full strength I loosed I
tho shaft through tho bars of tho gato at a ;
young upd gallant looking cavalier who I
rode the first, of all.
It struck him truly between the joint of
his helm and neckpiece, and stretching his
! arms out wide he fell over the crupper of
his horse to move no more. Then they j
! withdrew, but presently one of their minil
ber came forward bearing a flag of truce,
j He was a knightly looking man, clad in
, rich armor, ami watching him it seemed i
! to me that there was something in his
| bearing and in the can-less grace with '
j which he sat his horse that was familiar to '
| me. Reining up in front of tho gates, he ;
] raiscu 111s visor aim organ ro speux.
I knew li.'ni at once. Hefore ine was De I
i Garcia, my enemy, of whom I hml neither i
seen nor lieard anything for liard xipon 12
years. Time had touched him indeed,
which was scarcely to lie wondered at, for
now he was a man of 00 or more. His
1 peaked chestnut colored heard was streaked
with gray, his checks were hollow, and at
that distance his lips seemed like two thin
red lines, but the eyes were as they had always
been, bright and piercing, and the
same cold smile played about his mouth.
Without a doubt it was De Garcia, who
now, as at every crisis of my life, appeared
to shape my fortunes to some evil end, and
; I felt us 1 looked upon him that the last
and greatest struggle between us was at
hand, and that before runny days wens
sped the ancient and accumulated hate of
, ono or both of us would be buried forever
1 In the silence of death. How ill had fate
! dealt with mo now, as always! Hut a few
i minutes before, when I set that arrow oil
! the string, I had wavered for a moment,
j doubting whether to loose it at the young
I cavalier who lay dead oral the knight who
1 rode next to him, and see, 1 had slain one
I with whom I had no quarrel and left my
j enemy unharmed!
"Ho, there!" cried I)eGarcia in Spanish.
I "I desire to speak with the leader of the
I rebel Otomie on behalf of the Captain Her- j
| nal Diaz, who commands this army."
Now I mounted on the wall by means i
i of a ladder which was at hand and an- j
| swered, "Speak on; I am the man you ;
j seek."
'You know Spanish well, friend," said
j De Garcia, starting and looking at mo j
keenly beneath his bent brows. "Say now,
where did you learn it? And what is I
your name and lineage?"
" I learned Tt, Juan ilo Garcia, from a
certain Donna Lulsa, whom you knew In
your days of youth. And my name Is
Thomas VVingfield."
Now Dc Garcia reeled in his saddle and
swore a great oath.
'Motherof God!" he said. "Years ago I
was told that you had taken up your ahodo
among some snvage tribe, but since then
I have been far, to Spain and back indeed,
and I deemed that vou were dead, Thomas
Wingfleld. My luck Is good, in truth, for
it has been one of the great sorrows of my
life that you have so often escaped mo,
renegade. Be sure that this time there
shall be no escape."
"I know well that there will bo no escapo
for one or other of us, Juan do Garcia,"
I answered. "Now we play the last
round of the game, but do not boast, for
God alone knows to whom the victory
shall lie given. You have prospered long,
but a day may bo at hand when your prosperity
shall cease with your breath. To
your errand, Juan do Garcia."
For a moment ho sat silent, pulling at
his pointed beard, and watching him I
thought that I could see the shadow of a
half forgotten fear creep into his eyes. If
so, it was soon gone, for lifting his head
he 6poko boldly and clearly.
"This ia my incssugo to you, Thomas
Wingflcld, ami to such of thoOtomio dogs
with whom you herd as wo have left allvo
today. ThoHaptajn Bcjjyd Diaz offers you
tonus on bchhlf of his excellency the viceroy."
"What nro his terms?" I nsked.
"Merciful enough to such pestilent rebels
and heathens," ho answered, sneering.
"Surrender your city without condition,
and tho viceroy, in his clemency, will ac
ccpt the surrender. Nevertheless, lest you
should say afterward thnt faith has been
broken with you, bo it known to you
that you shall not go unpunished for your
many crimes. This is the punishment that
shall be inflicted on you. All tlioso who
had part or parcel in the devilish murder
of that holy saint, Father Pedro, shall bo
burned at tho stake, and tho eyes of all
who beheld it shall bo put out. Such of
tho leaders of tho Otomio ns the judges
may select shall be hanged publicly, among
them yourself, Cousin Wingflcld, and
more particularly tho woman Otomic,
daughter of Montezuma, the late king. For
tho rest, tho dwellers in tho City of Pines
must surrender their wealth into tho treasury
of tho \ icoroy, and they themselves,
men, women and children, shall bo led
from the city and be distributed, according
to tho viceroy's pleasure, upon tho estates
of such of tho Spanish settlers ns ho may
6clect, there to learn tho useful arts of husbandry
and mining. Theso arc tho conditions
of surrender, and I am commanded
to Bay that.... hour is given you in which
to decide whether to accept or reject them.''
"And if wo reject them?"
"Then tho Captain Bornal Diaz has orders
to sack and destroy this city, and having
given it over 12 hours to tho mercy of
the Tlascalans and other faithful Indian
allies to collect those who may bo left living
within it and bring them to the City
of Mexico, there to bo sold as slaves "
"Good," I said. "You shall have your
answer in an hour."
Now, leaving tho gate guarded, I hurried
to the palace, scalding messengers as I
went to summon such of the council of tho
city as remained alive. At tho door of tho
imlnoo T met Qtnmie. who erected me fond
ly, for uftcr hearing of our disaster she
hnd hardly looked to sco me again.
"Come with mo to tho hall of assembly,"
I said; ''there I will speak to you."
We went to tho hall, where tho members
of the council were already gathorcd. So
soon as tho most of them were assembled?
there were but eight in all?I repeated to
them the words of Do Garcia without comment.
Then Otomie spoke, as, being tho
first in rank, sho had a right to do. Twice
before I hnd heard her address tho people
of the Otomie upon these questions of defense
against the Spaniards. Tho first
time, it may bo remembered, was when
wo came ns envoys from Cuitlnhua, Montezuma's
(her father's) successor, to pray tho
aid of tho children of the mountain against
Cortes and tho Teules. Tho second timo
was when, somq 14 years ago, wo hod returned
to tho City of Pines as fugitives uftcr
tho fall of Tcnoctitlan, and the populace,
moved to fury by the destruction of nearly
20,000 of their soldiers, would liavo delivered
us ns a peace offering into tho hands
of the Spaniards.
On each of these occasions Otomie had
triumphed by her eloquence, by the greatness
of her name and the mnjesty of her
presence. Now things were far otherwise,
and even had sho not scorned to use them
such arts would havo availed us nothing
in their extremity. Now her great namo
was but a shadow, one of many waning
shadows cast by an empire whoso glory
had gone forever. Now she used no passionate
appeal to tho pride and traditions
of a doomed race, now sho was no longer
young, and tho first splendor of her womanhood
hadi departed from her. And yet,
as with her son and mlno by her 6ide, she
roso to address thoso seven councilors, who,
haggard with fear and hopeless in tho
grasp of fate, crouched in silence before
her, their faces buried in their hands, I
thought that Otomio had never 6eemcd
moro beautiful, and that her words, slmt*1,?
tl,nv m-iiivi li'wl m?vnr luwn liinro rln
V..XJ ......
qucnt.
''Friends," shosnid, "you know the disaster
that has overtaken us. My husband
has given you tlio nicssago of the Tcules.
Our cuso is desperate. We liavo but 1,000
men at most to defend this city, the homo
of our forefathers, and we alono of all tho
peoplo of Analumc daro to stand in arms
against tho white men. Years ago I said
to you, Chooso between death with honor
and life with shame! Today again I say
to you, Choose! For mo and mino there is
no choico left, sinco whatcvor you dccldo
death must 1ms our portion. But with you
it is otherwise. Will you die lighting, or
will you and your children servo your remaining
years as slaves!"'
For awhile tho seven consulted together;
then their spokesman answered.
"Otoinle, and you, Tculc, wo hnvo followed
your counsels for many years, and
they have brought us but little luck. Wo
do notblamo you, for tho gods of Anahuac
have deserted us as we havo deserted
them, and tho gods alono stand between
men and their evil destiny. Whatever misfortunes
we may havo borne, you have
shared in them, and so it is now at tho
end. Nor will wo go back upon our words
in this tho last hour of tho people of tho
Otomic. We have chosen; we havo lived
free with you, and ktill "free wo will die
with you, for, like you, we hold that It is
better for us and ours to perish as freemen
than to drag out our days beneath tho
yoke of the Teule."
"It is well," said Otomie. "Now nothing
remains for 1110 except to seek death
so glorious that it shall bo sung of in after
days. Husband, you have heard the answer
of the council,- Let tho Spaniards hear it
also." jt. I
So I wont frCMto wall, a white flag
in my hand.^WlF presently an envoy advanced
from the Spanish camp to speak to
me?not l)e (iarftia, but another. I told
him in few words that those who remained
alive of tho people of the Otomie would
die beneath the ruins of their city like the
children of Tenoetitlan before them, but
that while they had a spear to throw and
tm arm to throw it they would never yield
to the tender mercies of the Spaniard.
The envoy returned to the camp, and
within an hour the attack began. Bringing
up their pieces of ordnance, the Span
ianls set thcni within little more than n
hundred paces of the gates and began to
batter us with iron shot at their leisure,
for our spears and arrows could scarcely
harm them at such a distance. Still we
were not idle, for seeing that the wooden
gates must soon be down we demolished
houses on either side of them and lilled up
the roadway with stones and rubbish. At
the roar of tlie heap thus formed I caused
a grout trench to bo dug, which could not
be passed by horseman and ordnance till
it was filled in again. All along the main
street leading to the great square of the
teocalli I threw up other barricades, protected
in the front and rear by dikes cut
through the roadway, and in case the Spaniards
should try to turn our flank and
force a passage through the narrow and
tortuous lanes to the right and left I also
barricaded the four entrances to the great
square or market place.
Till nightfall the Spaniards lioinhnrdcd
the shattered remains of the gate and the
earthworks behind them, doing 110 great
damage lieyoud the killing of about a score
of people by cannon shot and arquebus
balls. Hut they attempted 110assault that
day. At length the darkness fell, and the
fire ceased, but not so our labors. Most of
the men must guard the gates and tho
weak spots in the walls, and therefore the
building of the barricades was left chiefly
to the women working under my commands
and that of my captains. Otomic
herself took a share in the toil, an example
that was followed by every lady and
indeed every woman in the city, and there
were many of them, for the women outnumbered
the men among the Otomie,
and, moreover, not a few of them had been
made widows on that sumo day.
Itwasa strange sight to see them in tho
irlare of hundreds of torches split from the
I rosin plno tlmt gavu Its name" to tho city,
I ns nil night long they niovwl to niul fro in
lines, ench of them staggering beneath tho
! weight of a basket of earth or a heavy
I stone, or dug with wooden spades at tho
j hard soil, or labored at the pulling down
of houses. They never complained, but
1 worked on sullenly and despairingly. No
i groan or tenr broko from them?no, not
' even from those whoso husbands and sons
j had been hurled that morning from tho
I precipices of tho pass. They knew that rc1
sistanco would bo useless and that their j
: doom was at hand, but no cry arose among I
them of surrender to tho Spaniards. Thoso j
of them who spoko of tho matter at all
I said, with Otomic, that it was better to dio |
I free than to livo as slaves, but tho most .
j did not speak. Tho old and tho young,
mother, wife, widow and maid, they labored
in silence, and tho children labored
at their sides.
Looking at them, it came into my mind j
that these silent, patient women wcro inspired
by somo common and desperate pur- j
poso that all knew of, but which nono of
them choso to tell.
"Will you work so nuru lor your musj
tors, the Tculcs?" cried a man in bitter
j mocker}' as a tile of them toiled past bcI
ncath their loads of stone.
"Fool!" answered their lender, a young
I and lovely lady of rank, "do the dead lnj
bor?"
"Nay," said this ill jester, "but such as j
J you arc too fair for the Tcules to kill, and i
j your years of slavery will bo many. Say, ;
I how shall you escape them?"
"Fool!" answered the lady again, "docs
1 flro dlo from look of fuel only, and must
every man live till nge takes him? Wo
shall escape them thus, "and casting down
the torch she carried she trod it into the
earth with her sandal and went on with
her load. Then I was sure that they lind
somo purpose, though I did not guess how
desperate it was, nnd Otomio would tell
mo nothing of this woman's secret.
| "Otomic," I said to her that night when I
| we met by chance, "I have ill news for '
j you."
"It must bo bad Indeed, husband, to bo
named In such an hour," she unswered.
"Do Garcia is among our foes."
"I knew it, husband."
"How did you know it?"
"By tho hate written in your eyes, sho
answered.
"It seems that his hour of triumph is at
hand,1' I said.
"Nay, beloved, not his, but yours. You
shall triumph over Do Gnrcia, but victory \
will cost you deur. 1 know it in my heart.
Ask me not. how or why. See, tho queen
puts on her crown," and sho pointed to
tho volcan Xaca, whoso snows grew rosy
with tho dawn, "and you must go to tho j
gate, for tho Spaniards will soon be stirring."
As Otomio spoke I heard a trumpet, j
blare without tho walls. Hurrying to tho j
gates by tho first light of day, I could see
that tho Spaniards wero mustering theli
forces for attack. They did not como at
once, howover, but delayed till tho sun
was well up. Then they began to pour a
furious flro upon our defenses that reduced
tho shattered beams of the gates to pow-' i
der and cvon shook down the crest of tho
earthwork beyond tlioni. Suddenly tho
firing ceased, and again a trumpet called. !
Now they charged us in column, a thou!
sand or more Tlascaluns leading tho van,
I followed by tho Spanish force. In two
! minutes I, who waited them beyond it,
together with somo 300 wnrriors of tho
Otomie, saw their heads appear over the
crest of tho earthwork, and the fight be- !
gan. Thrico wo drove them back with our '
6pcars and our nrrows, but at tho fourth <
charge the wave of men swept over our dc- [
fenso and poured into the dry ditch beyond.. j
Now wo were forced to fly to tho next !
earthwork, for we could not hope to fight !
so many in t]xo open street, whither, so
soon as a passage had been made for their j
horses anil ordnance, tho enemy followed I
us. Hero tho fight was renewed, and this |
barricade being very strong we held it for
hard upon two hours, with much loss to
ourselves anil to tho Spanish force. Again
wo retreated, anil again we were assailed,
and so tho strugglo went on throughout
the livelong day. Every hour our numbers
grow fewer anil fewer and our arms fainter,
but still wo fought on desperately. At
tho last two barricades hundreds of the j
women of tho Otomlo fought by the sides j
of their husbands anil their brothers.
The last earthwork was captured by the i
Spaniards just as tho sun sank, and under !
tho shadow of approaching ilurkness those
of us that remained alive lleil to the refuge
which we had prepared under the toocalli,
nor was there nny further fighting during
that nlcht.
TO IIK l.'ONTINUKD SKXT WKKK.
CATS' BEDS.
Cats are the most obstinately capri!
cious, in their fancies about their beds, j
j of any domestic creature. They will
j follow a particular rug or shawl from
j room to room, if it be removed, in or- i
! der to sleep on it, or insist on the use !
j of one chair, until they get their way, |
and then for some reason take a fancy 1
to another. The cleanliest of all ani- ;
mals, anything newly washed or very j
fresh and bright, strikes them as just j
the thing for a bed. A nicely aired 1
newspaper, or linen fresh from the j
wash is almost irresistable. Outdoor i
cats seek a warm as well as a tidy bed.
The writer was once much surprised,
when passing through a large ship
building yard, to see a cat fast asleep,
lying, it seemed on a muddy path. ;
! hut the spot which the cat had select- !
i cd for its couch was one at which
' a hot steam pipe passed under the
I road, and the mud was there baked in- i
j to a warm, dry cake, which made not j
I only a clean, but an artificially heated
sleeping-place.
But the oddest taste in beds develop- i
I ed by a cat, was that entertained by a
I iiAnif Kii.Mii l.t*rwt nrni" A Hirni'ii u'lllph I
'"J b'".'
was justly petted and admired by the
family in which it lived. For some
months it would only sleep in or upon
a hat, if such could be found, ladies' I
hats being preferred. If it could discover
one with the inside uppermost,
it would lie inside of it. If not, such
was its love for this form of couch, it
would curl itself around the brim, and
with its long, furry tail and pliant j
! body made a line winter trimming to
i a summer hat. By some accident, a
| drawer in which all the "summer"
hats had been disposed of for the winter
was left open for some days, after
which it was discovered that all the
hats had been tried in turn, the cat
having final 1 Iy selected one adorned
with white laburnum (lowers, which |
i never recovered from the "ironing" to
which it had been subjected.
| ClIAKACTKIt Tol.I) IN WUINKI.KS.? j
i An Italian scientist, M. Montegazzo, I
has written an essay upon the science ;
' of wrinkles. He believes one's history
j can be largely told by the lines upon
the face. Entering into a description
of the different varieties and their
meanings, he says: "Horizontal lines
across the forehead are found even in
children who are rickets or idiots, and
| that being out in the sun with the eyes i
i unshaded will produce them prema- j
' turely ; but they are natural at -It) or
j earlier. Vertical lines between the
1 eyes denote thought and study, since
j deep concentration contracts the eye- ,
brows; grief and worry produce the :
i same effect, and frequently repeated, ;
' either leaves a permanent, fold in the 1
i skin. Arched wrinkles just above the j
i nose indicate extreme suffering, either
j mental or physical. The earliest
I wrinkles of all and the most unavoidable
are those which ran liom either
side of the nostril down to the month, .
and these are produced by smiling,
and even the motion of the jaws
| in masticating?a warning to gumchcwers
!"
B 0 9
A 1 lo'i'Kl, Sri'KKSTiTioN'.?"There
j is a prevailing superstition among hoI
tel men," said one of them, "that to
I elose the register brings had lack to
j the house. Von will lind it so in every
! hotel in the country. And every |
clerk feels like jumping over the desk i
and thumping the man who carelessly
closes the hook. We never close a
hook until it is filled to the last page.
I always place my hand on the book j
until the man who registers has left the j
desk. Whenever a man closes the |
book we have bad luck somewhere in j
the house."?Syracuse l'ost.
1 ptettltattcous ^catling.
THE AMERICAN COTTON GROWERS, j
TUfHe are the Laws Under Which They j
Have Begun to Organize.
Tiie Enquirer is in receipt of a |
pamphlet copy of the by-laws which
are to govern the Cotton Growers' Protective
association, recently organized 1
at Jackson, Miss. This information
will no doubt prove interesting to the
cotton growers of this county. It is
as follows:
Article 1. The object and purposes
of this organization are to combine the
American cotton growers for their
mutuul benefit and protection, to gather
and disscmiuate statistics and information
useful to ittf mnml\Ul-a ?*???
vent over-production and the conse- !
quent destruction of the value of cot- j
ton. ^ j
Art. 2. No one shall be a member
of this association unless he is an actual
grower of cotton.
Art. 3. This association is formed j
for one (1) year, and every member
thereof, his heirs, executors and administrators,
-is bound by the terms
thereof until January 1, 1896.
Art. 4. This agreement is not to he i
binding upon the signers thereof until
it is signed by at least three-fourths of j
the cotton acreage in 95 per cent, of j
the counties in each of the cotton j
growing States, which fact is to be de- j
termined by the national committee, j
herein provided for.
Art. 5. Each member hereof binds
himself to subscribe, and to pay the
same in cash to his county committee,
when this agreement is declared opera- ;
tive, two cents for every acre of laud |
cultivated by him in cotton during the
year 1894. One-half of the fund pro- j
duced by these subscriptions shall be '
retained by each county committee for ;
local purposes, and the other half shall |
be transmitted to the uational commit- 1
tee for general purposes.
Art. 6. Every member of this organi- j
zation solemnly contracts and binds j
himself to plant and cultivate in 1S95 !
only two-thirds of the number of acres !
of cotton that he planted and cultivated j
during the year 1894, and hereby an- |
tliAuS'ioo nnrl nmnAtvaro nAiinlv /?nm. I
mittoe of his county and their author- !
izcd agents, to enter upon his premises !
and destroy, at his expense, all cotton |
planted in violation, pf this agreement. ;
Art. 7. Every member hereof binds
and obligates himself to deliver to his (
county committee, between the 15th |
and 25th day of June, in the year 1895, |
a sworn statement of the number of
acres of cotton then under cultivation
and the condition thereof.
Art. 8. All communications between
the various committees and the members
of this organization are to be con- j
sidercd strictly confidential, and are i
not to be disclosed to any person not a
member hereof.
Art. 9. The signers of this agreement ,
in each county shall "meet at the county
seat on the first Monday in March,
1895, and elect a county committee of
seven (7) cotton planters to serve one
year. The signers shall also at the
same time and place elect the county
delegates to the State convention, to
he held on the third Monday in March,
1895, for the purpose of electing the
Stale delegates to the national committee.
Each county shall have power
to make rules and regulations for
its government, conforming to this instrument
or Jo the^^Mi^^iBM^ihe
national committee. None of its members
shall receive any compensation
except traveling expenses, and it shall
pay the traveling expenses of the delegates
to the State convention. They
shall be authorized to employ a secretary
and fix his salary. Every county j
committee is absolutely prohibited to 1
contract any debt in excess of its cash
on hand, or to execute any note, bond j
or other promise to pay money.
Art. 10. Each county shall have in i
the State convention one delegate for j
every 10,000 bales of cotton and frac- j
tion thereof produced therein during
the census year 1890. The representation
to be based on the best attainable
statistics of the crop of that year.
Art. 11. The national committee
shall be composed of members elected
oy encn ^tate convention, neiu in |
the capital of each State on the third j
Monday in March, 181)5. Each cotton
growing State shall be entitled to one
member of the national committee for
every 200,000 bales of cotton and fraction
thereof produced in it during the
year 1890, us show by the figures of
the United States census report, and
to avoid controversy the representation
of the cotton growing States in said
convention is hereby fixed as follows:
States. Delegates.
Virginia, North
Carolina, ?
South Carolina, ? I
(leorgin, ?
Florida, ? !
Alabama, ? i
Mississippi, ? i
Tennessee, ? j
Arkansas, ?
Louisiana, ?
Texas, ? !
Indian Territory, :. ?
Art. 12. The national committee j
shall meet in the city of New Orleans,
or such other city as may be selected,
on the first Monday in April, 1895, and
shall immediately proceed to examine
and inquire whether this agreement is
signed by such a proportion of the
American cotton growers as to make
it binding as provided in Article 4. It
shall make proclamation of its conclusion,
and its decision on this question
shall be final and conclusive.
Art. 13. The national committee
shall have power and authority, by a |
vote of two-thirds of its members, to .
make by-laws, rules and regulations [
for its own government, and for the i
goverment "Tu^Limalft'r'pr
ganization, anuTv/Whe coudt^BS^H
business; to
anil fix their compensations ;
permanent location for the establish?!
ment of its office; to j>ny a salary .{J j
its president and secretary, and to fix |
the amount thereof and pay the travel- i
in# expenses of its members.
Art. 14. No members of the nation- j
al committee, except its president and j
secretary, shall receive any compensa- I
tion except traveling expenses. Said :
committee shall have no power to i
create any debts in excess of the cash i
actually in the treasury at the time the i
debt is created, and shall be absolutely '
prohibited from issuing any note, bond j
or other promise to pay.
Art. 15. The national committee
shall have power during the month of
December, 1895, to set on foot some
plan for continuing this organization !
for another year, and to take the sense ,
of its members as to whether the or- :
ganization shall he continued for an- j
other year.
How
to Makk (1 rxi'owiiKit.?All
Lomnowder is made of niter, charcoal
and sulphur, and in all nations by
almost tin* same formula, that is by j
using " "> pounds of niter (saltpeter), 15 j
pounds of charcoal, and 10 pounds of :
sulphur for 100 pounds of gunpowder. 1
The materials are first made as pure !
as possible, the niter being soaked in i
spring water, then boiled and cooled, I
then filtered through canvass bags and !
allowed to harden again. This is !
done until the substance becomes perfectly
while. The sulphur is purified j
by being kept melted for several hours
in gun-metal pots. The charcoal is i
made from special wood burned in j
close vessels, and must be thoroughly
charred and soft. The three sub- j
stances arc lirst ground separately to a
line powder, and then ground together
with a little water until they arc thor- 1
oughly mixed. The mixture is then {
by a hydrostatic press made into thin, I
smooth cakes that are afterward
broken up between toothed rollers and
rubbed through sieves until the grains
are the right size. These arc then put
into a revolving cylinder, and by rubbing
against each other arc worn round
and smooth. This is called glazing,
and is an important process, because
glazed powder keeps dry and bears
slinking much better than unglazed
powder. The powder is then thoroughly
dried in rooms heated by
steam pipes, and then stored in barrels
or other receptacles.?Chicago InterOcean.
McLAURIX TO THE PEOPLE.
A Patriotic Letter from South Carolina's
Ablest Congressman.
Washington, D. C., Jan., 13,1895.
rn_ it. ? nJri -r rni.? Ti _ . t\
io uierAiiior ui iuc xvtrgisier : j/cui
Sir: As there seems to be a lull
in State politics, and without a positive
knowledge of what is doing or
going to he done, I submit herewith
my own peculiar opinions of the situation.
The time for action, il seems to me,
has arrived, and thus believing, I shall
not longer stifie my convictions, but
shall speak frankly and unreservedly
as I think the necessities of the situation
require, and abide the consequences,
whatever they may be :
The general poverty and depression
in the country at large is intensified
by local conditions.
No one expected the "movement"
of 1890 to divide our people into two
absolutely hostile camps. And the
whole thiug can be largely traced to
the abandonment of the primary election
principle last summer to promote
the interest of certain individuals.
The constitutional convention is
upon us, and, with it and our internecine
strife, the "nigger in the wood
pile" is reviving.
"Not dead, but sleepeth" is written
over the attenuated corpse of the Democratic
paity north of Mason and
Dixon's line, and even in our own
section and among our own people,
signs of decay arc visible. Our old
allies will not help us and can no longer
be relied upon.
Let us help ourselves. The interests
of 99 out of every 100 of our citizens
are identical.
A convention of a faction, no matter
how able its membership or good its
works, will be disastrous and drive us
further apart. Everyone admits that,
tint nnfnrtnmitclv we have become such
astute politicians that each of us is
afraid to move for fear of injuring his
chances of securing some office, from
that of county coroner to president of
the United States. We are breeding
tyrants and political cowards in South
Carolina. Too much policy and not
enough of patriotism. Why, my dear
sir, I came within an ace of ruining
my flattering political prospects last
summer by a few innocent and kind
observations made to "My Dear Appelt."
But whatever the result, I
have the satisfactian of knowing that
I coined at least one or two apt words
and phrases, which, if they did not
enrich the English language, will live
for some time descriptio personae.
Ever since I wrote that letter (in
which, God knows, I was honest), I
have been maligned, misrepresented
and misquoted. Every time 1 opened
my mouth I was charged with being
in league with "Butler" but that can
be dune no longer as General Butler is
out of politics and will soon be a
private citizen. Whil: we on
some things politically, lie will carry
with him my undying friendship and
respect. Had it not been for the misconstruction
which true frieuds, whose
opibion I value, would have placed
upon my conduct, I would have died
a 1,000 political deaths before submitting
to what I did. The people
have honored me, I love them, and
have studied hard and tried to give
them value received.
I have come to the conclusion that
I do not care whether I ever hold
another office or not, if it involves the
least sacrifice of dignity, honor or
principle, and I do not propose to occupy
any equivocal or uncertain position.
I am now in favor of harmonizing
the factions, if such a thing be possible
; but in order to do that we must
destroy a "King" more desperate, more
autocratic, more tyranieal, more unscrupulous
than ever dominated the
State or controlled the destines of a
free people. I defy them ! Let them
take the office I hold if they can.
Tliev cannot muzzle mv toneue nor
stifle my manhood or independence.
They are now making preparation to
control the constitutional convention
and thereby perpetuate themselves in
power, and if necessary to accomplish
this, white meu, us well as the Negro,
will bo ruthlessly disfranchised. The
"Antis," one part are cowed and whipped,
the other part too mad to have
any sense, and while a part of the
"Reformers" who want fair play have
been silent, an arrogant minority, held
together by the conhesive power of
spoils, runs rough shod over all. Offices
are multiplied by the thousand
and to prevent "kicking" while the
hands of the executive are strengthened
by unlimited patronage and -the
towns intimidated by the threat of depriving
them of the precious heritage
ofloeal self-government. The Alliance
has been destroyed or simply converted
into an adjunct of the political
machiue by methods that would make
the Tammany tiger pale with envy.
'Men are afraid to speak, or speak with
bated breath. Pretended salary reductions,
on the principle of cutting
everybody else's salary except their
own. While the patient, toiling masses
arc in debt and straining every
nerve to keep the "wolf from the
their attention is led away and
HKered upon personal and local
that no matter which way they
[HHecided will benefit no oue except
fficw individuals. What in the name
of heaven can tli^ people expect from
such purblind statesmanship ? Where
do they come in ? Every man, woman
and child in South Carolina knows
that I am telling the truth, and manygood
Reformers see in the ugly picture
the finale to the beautiful dream
of 1890.
Our only hope is to get together
in this convention, and if possible,
prevent the "Ring" from controlling it,
and frame a constitution which will
command the respect and confidence
of the whole people, thereby uniting
and placing us in a position in 1890
where we can avail ourselves of the
most favorable opportunity that national
politics may then oiler. It is useless
to temporize; if we be men let us
act, and, at least purchase an honorable
defeat.
For what I have already said and
done along this line I have been the
subject of vituperation, slander and
abuse, and I shrink (no one knows
how much) from ollering myself as a
further target to the foul pen of hire
lings and slaves.
If doing my duty manfully and conseieneioitsly
relegates me to private
life, I welcome it. Let the phalanx
put all of its spears into my body, it
thereby the cause of liberty is eonserved.
It was the expressed hope of many
that the "Forty," ere, this would have
taken such action as would have made
their influence felt 011 the line indicated
by them, which met with such
general approval throughout the State.
I hope and believe the matter will
soon consummate in definite action,
and thereby unite all those who sincerely
want "peace and unity."
Men who possess the courage of
their convictions must confer in the
near future and adopt such a line of
1 action as will subserve the best interests
of the State. It is a light against
"bossism and ring rule," which seeks
to prostitute every principle of popular
j rights to selfish purposes,
j Let those who believe peace can be
, obtained without an effort, deceive
| themselves no longer. Peace has nev;
er been purchased without a stern
! battle to secure its blessings.
Yours respectfully,
JNO. L. MCLAUIMX.
WHO WAS HK?
Touching Kcmlnlsccnco of tlu; ItiiUlc of
fiainen'M Mill,
i For the YorkvlUc Knquirer.
In looking over some war reminiscences
nml gleanings from an army
notebook, I find the following, which
may, even at this late day, be some
comfort to some reader of The Enquirkr,
and I reproduce it.
"Next morning after the battle of
, Gaines's Mill, as I was looking for
implements with which to bury the
dead of my company, I came upon a
j quiet spot where the ambulance corps
had brought together a number of our
j poor fellows, too desperately wounded
to be carried to the field hospital in
the rear. Here they could be conveniently
furnished with water and the
other comforts which their condition
allowed during their remaining hours.
! My attention was particularly attracted
to one whose stalwart form and manly
; features made liiin a marked object,
even among the heroes who lay around
liini. It was evident that his end was
j nigh, though his face was calm and his
i eyes still bright.
"Going to him, I inquired if he was
much hurt. He replied, 'Yes, I must
soon die,' and showed me his wound,
i A grape shot had shattered his shoulder
| and penetrated deeply into his vitals.
He said the shot still remained in his
j body. Struck with the resigned exi
pression of his countenance, I asked
iiim of his preparation to meet death.
; He told me that before he left home,
' he had been a careless sinner ; but
since entering the army, lie had been
j reading his Bible, and this had led
him to serious reflection, and now that
lie was soon to die, he felt that though
a great sinner, he could trust in Jesus
Christ for salvation. He had but one
regret, and that was the thought of
! how much pain his death would give
his sisters and his glad father, whose
i only son he was. Tears trickled down
his cheek as he spoke of the grief
these loved ones at home would suffer.
Still his language was that of perfect
resignation to the will of God. "My
duties allowed me but a few moments
to stay with liitn,and with a tew words
appropriate to the situation, I pressed
his hand and hade him goodbye, commending
him to the blessings of God.
i My regiment was soon forward in pursuit
of the enemy, and I never saw the
young man any more ; hut I have often
thought of him, and it has frequently
occured to me that it might he a
consolation to his friends at home to
know the happy and peaceful frame of
mind in .which he met his death, and
which, perhaps, lie may never have
: made known to any one hut myself, a
j perfect stranger.
"I would have written privately to
| his friends; hut I knew not how to
; direct my letter, I only remember that
he was an only son, that he hud sisi
ters and a father at home, and that
| his name was Nesbitt, of York district,
| South Carolina." Sigma. - Etta
Jane, S. C.
FACTS ABOUT A WATCH.
The watch carried by the average
| man is composed of 9S pieces, and its
manufacture embraces more than 2.000
distinct and separate operations. Some
of the smaller screws are so minute
that the unaided eye cannot distinguish
them from steel filings or specks of
i dirt. Under a magnifying glass a per1
feet screw is revealed. The slit in the
head is two-one-thousandths of an inch
wide. It takes 008,000 of these screws
! to weigh a pound, and a pound is
' worth $1,585. The hair-spring is a
' * n.% o * _t 4 1
; strip 01 tno uuosi sicei, uuuui nine uim
i one-half inches long, one one-hun- ~^|
1 dredth inch wide and 27 ten-thou- V
1 sandlhs inch thick. It is coiled up in ^
a spiral form and finely tempered.
The process of tempering these springs
: was long kept a secret by the few fortunate
ones possessing it, and even
! now it is not generally known. Their
i manufacture requires great skill and
: care. The strip is gauged to 20 onethousandths
of an inch; but no measI
uring instrument has yet been de|
vised capable of fine enough gauging
, to determine beforehand by the size of
the strip what the strength of the fin,
ished spring will be. A 20 one-thoui
sandth part of an inch difference in the
I spring, makes a difference in the
! ruuning of a watch about six minutes
an hour.
The value of these springs when fin!
ished and placed in watches, is enor!
mous in proportion to the material
I from which they are made. A com;
parison will give a good idea. A ton
1 of steel made up into hairsprings when
' in watches is worth more than 121
times the value of the same weight in
pure gold. Hairspring wire weighs
one-twentieth of a grain to an inch.
One mile of wire weighs less than half
a pound. The balance gives five vibrations
every second, 300 every minute,
18,000 every hour, 432,000 every day
! and 157.fiS0.000 every year. At each
vibration it rotates about 1} times,
1 which makes 197,100,000 revolutions
j every year. In order that we may
; better understand the stupendous
j amount of labor performed by these
' tiny works, let us make a pertinent
comparison. Take, for instance, a lo- ?? !
coinotive with six-foot driving wheels.^^^^Km
| Let its wheels bo run
given the same number of revomuon^^^^^^^^^
I that a watch does in one year, and
they will have covered a distance
I equal to 28 complete circuits of the
j earth. All this a watch does without
i other attention than winding once
! every 24 hours. ?New York Advertiser.
15k Contented.?Bulwer says that
1 poverty is only an idea in nine cases
I out often. Some men with $10,000 a
j year suffer more for want of means
! than others with $oO(). The reason is,
i the richer man has his artificial
j wants. His income is $10,000 a year,
and be sutlers enough by being dunned
i for un pai d debts to kill a sensitive
man. A man who earns $1 a day and
j does not go in debt is the happier of
j the two. Very few who have never
! been rich will believe this, but it is
true. There are thousands and thou!
sands with princely incomes who never
know a minute's peace, because
1 they live beyond their means. There
is really more happiness among the
workingmen in the world than among
I those who are rich.
? ?
One would hardly think that a
j cow was influenced by music, but it
i seems she is. In Switzerland that fact
1 is so well understood that a milkmaid
or man gets better wages if gifted with
a good voice. Experiments have been
j made, and it has been found that a
; cow gives one-fifth more milk if soothed
during milking by a pleasing melo|
dy. You have been told, too, in this
I column about the gentle way tine
| horses are cared for at the famous
stables in California, never hearing a
I cross word, nor are the stable boys or
fc. grooms permitted to swear while work|
ing about their charges. It will be a
new idea to many children, however,
i that cows and horses thus appreciate
i gentleness and harmony.
(UZ. A