The county record. [volume] (Kingstree, S.C.) 1885-1975, March 06, 1902, Image 7
T
f'TWO OENTL
^ ^By SEWARD
i Copyright. by Bobk* ' B3*irs3's Sox*
CHAPTER XXX.
CONTINUED.
Gordon was a strict disciplinarian
?>Viar> t.nnno nrorA in frrirriqnn or ra<7U
lar doty. But on all these expeditions
discipline was relaxed, and the picked
inen he had with him, who he knew
wrere trustworthy, did pretty much as
they liked. They were under the immediate
command of a lieutenant, who
lounged along, smoking a pipe, now
and then sitting down by the mer to
read a book, then rushing ahead to
catch up with us.
We did very little talking, we three,
each being too full of his own thoughts
to care for conversation. This was at
least true of Gordon and myself. Seacamp,
no doubt, would gladly have
chattered, but we paid no attention
* * trt- j? ^ a
to lllUl. \> e irampeu uu, &ccpiu^ <*
lookout for human beiug9 or their
habitations.
Late in the afternoon we reached a
email settlement which we judged to
be that spoken of by Orcutt.
It was right on the river-bank, and
stretched along it for a little distance.
It was a typical native village, bul
there was no person there.
"Deserted," said Gordon, coming to
standstill before an empty grass*
house, and looking around him.
"Yet there are signs that the place
is inhabited," I said. "See, there art
the remains of a fire?not an old one,
either. The people who live here arc
not far away."
"I agree with you," replied Gordon.
"As they did not pass us on our way
here, they have probably gon6 further
up the valley. Let us proceed."
This time Gordon ordered the soldiers
to keep together and to preserve
ailence. A scout was sent on ahead
with orders to observe without being
observed, and at the first sight of a
human being to come and warn us.
* il? 1 ?1u
"x a on s u&v iua muts vi u? j
tiling," eaid Gordon. "There is
something up. Some more fool-worship,
I suppose."
"Let's shoot them all," suggested
Jollroy Seacamp.
"No; that hardly seems advisable
? unless they oppose us," said Gor^
<iou.
We cautiously continued our wa}
op the winding course of the river.
The falls were passed?a beautiful
aoene, that would have attracted
either of us under pleasant circumstances?but
we were in no mood to
appreciate natural beauty.
"St!" came a voice ahead.
The growth of trees and shrubs and
tall grasses was now thicker than had
been found lower down. A slight
path could be seen leading through it.,
^We were following this when wo heard
the voice ahead. It was the scout.
We crept slowly up to him.
''There's something going on," he
aid. "See that opening between the
boughs of these two trees ahead?
Look through them. Do you see
that fellow up on the ledge? Way up
on the side of the precipice."
We looked in the direction indicated.
"I see him," I whispered.
"So do I," said Gordon.
< "Where? Where?" asked Seacamp.
"That fellow is a sentinel," continued
Gordon, ignoring Seacamp.
"His position is apparently inaccessible.
We can gain nothing by a show
of force now. We must reconnoiter."
"General, wait here," said the
*cout. "Wait for me. I will return
?oon."
"He can be trusted," said Gordon.
That was all that was said. We
waited, almost breathlessly for about
twenty minutes.
The rustling of grass and snapping
-twigs told us of the upproach of the
coat.
"It'3 a temple," said the scout.
"Can we reach it without being discovered?"
asked Gordon.
"Yes. That sentinel is watching
the path. I found a way to get up behind
him. Two of us could gag him
And prevent hi3 giving the alarm."
"Good," said Gordon. "What sort
of temple is it?"
4 4T '4- 1-n^T T rroif f/i
X UUii V auv r? JL V ? MAW wvr ?V?* m
amy more. I beard voices as if pray
- >1
Slowly and stealthily we followed
the scout. He led us through a nartow
defile and up a rough jagged rockway.
He paused and held up his
hand. Wo waited. He motioned for
another soldier to follow him. A moment
after they were gone we heard a
hort scu.Be.
"Come on," said the scout's voice
ahead of us. "He's quiet."
We crept over the ledges of rock.
How we could hear the monotonous
voices of praying priests.
' 'Some more KammiloukaniHtnaw ai,"
whispered Gordon.
"Here is an entrance," said the
ecout.
.We advanced t? a position from
Iemen j
of hawaii. ?
W. HOPKINS. 0)
j whioh we could see the worshipers.
They were in a temple, ornate with
I ?j. -_-i- i??
ruue eiaUU1119UUICUi9 UITCU uuiu la?a I
stone and coral. The temple wa9
lighted with huge candles?a native
article that sputtered a great deal, but
gave a good light.
There was an altar?of coral rock?
and in it was a man apparently seventy-five
years old. His hair was white.
His face was bronzed. He had the
pose, the look of a Frenchman.
"Jean Chicot!" whispered Gordon.
"I believe it," I replied, trembling
vith excitement. There was little
doubt in my mind that I beheld the
father-in-law of my nncle and grandfather
of the heiress to his fortune.
Before the altar knelt about twenty
priests, all uttering what I recognized
from horrible familiarity a3 prayers to
the goddess Pele.
Back of the priests sat a few women
and children, all natives. Evidently
the entire population of the village
we had passed was inside the temple.
"We must surprise them by a show
of force now," said Gordon.
He gave his orders in whispers.
The men were ready to march in with
tifie at shoulder.
"Forward!" commanded Gordon, inf
a loud voice.
The command and the tramp of soldiers
startled the natives. They
turned and saw us. Then with shrieks
of terror they ran around the temple,
seeking for a means of escape. The
man at the altar looked at us as we approached,
calmly and reflectively. Ho
did not seem alarmed.
"Halt!" commanded Gordon.
Then, turning to the man in the
altar, he said:
"Listen to me. We have not come
to make war on you. We are looking
for a person named Jean Chicot. He
is described as a Frenchman, looking
much like you. We know he is somewhere
in the Wailuku Valley. If you
are Jean Chico*, you are the man we
want. Come with us. and these peo
pie may depart in peace."
The white-haired man waved his
; hand.
"I am Jean Chicot," he said. "I
know you not. I know not why you
seek me. Yet I will come to you."
His voice was the voice of an old,
old man. Ho came toward us, and
we noticed that he tottered with age.
"Not very formidable now, at auy
rate," said Gordon.
"Why don't you shoot those
priests," asked Seacamp, savagely.
"Are you going to let the reptiles escape?"
"We came after Chicot," was Gordon's
reply.
"Yon represent the queen. I am
yours," saia unicoi vo uoraon.
"There is no queen. I represent
the government," replied Gordon.
"No queen? 1Liliaokolani
dead?"
"No. She has bT, .eposed. Ha*
Svaii is now a republic."
"Save us, Pele!" ejaculated old Chicot.
"When did this happen?"
"Some time ago," replied Gordon,
testily. He had not come up the
Wailuku Valley to talk history. "Let
us sit down. We want to talk to you."
The priest and other natives went
out. and Gordon ordered that the sentinel
be set free. We went down
where the priests had been and seated
ourselves on their wooden benches.
"I turn him over to you, Tom,"
' said Gordon.
"Jeau Chicot," I said, "where is
your daughter Annette?"
"Dead."
"Where is your granddaughter
Helene?"
The old man sprang at me, but was
feeized and pushed back to his seat.
"Who are you?" he said.
"My name is Warringford," I replied.
"Hated name!" he cried, rubbing
his hands together and exhibiting
much emotion. "Another Warringford
wronged me aud wronged my
daughter; aud now you come with
RnMiors to seize Helene!"
"Where is she?" I asked.
He did not reply.
"Now, see here, Jean Chicot," I
said. "I will tell you the whqle 3tory,
and then perhaps you will help rue.
My uncle, Thomas Warringford, is
dead. He ieft papers and a will telling
of his marriage to your daughter
Annette. Ho told all about how 6he
left him, how you stole her away from
him, and took also the little Helene.
Yet, in his last wish, he forgives, and
desires Helene, his daughter, to receive
his estate. In other words,
Helene is the heiress of my uncle's
fortuuo. I must find Helene and give
over to her the estate which is now in
my charge. You must do two things:
You must show me proofs that Helene
is the daughter of my uncle, and you
must show me, if you still have it, the
maiTiage certificate of Annette, your
daughter. Then you must find Hel1
ane for me." . .
TTfie olfffe/m looked at me, dazed.
"Helene heiress!" he murmured.
"HeleK\ my little Helene,"
that I taught and joyed, the heiress
of that Warringfordr*
"It is true," I said. "Do not let
us waste auj time."
"Where is Helene?" asked Gordon
impatiently. "Is she hidden here?"
"No. When she was little she was
here, and I taught her. Ah! How
well I taught her. She is noble, is
Helena. She is grand. But she is e
woman now. Ah! She is more than
a woman, she is a priestess."
"A priestess!" I cried. "Where
is she?"
"Not here," was Chicot's reply.
"Far away; but we will find her. Come
with me."
He led us out of the temple and
back through the valley.
He was weeping. Whether it was
joy, sorrow, surprise or imbecility that
caused him to weep I did not know or
care.
Around us dark faces peered from
the trees, and surprised-looking eyes
followed us in our return tramp. Now
and then a priest would show himself,
then dart away again. There was no
sign of warfare. Our display of soldiers
forbade that.
We reached the village, no longer
deserted. The women had returned
and were preparing their poi for supper.
Chicot led ns to a larger and better
Equipped house than the rest.
"Here is my house," he said.
"Helene will not know me now. She
Will be a great lady. She will no
longer care for the old teacher."
"What is that? The old teacher?"
J asked. "Does Helene not know you
as her grandfather?"
"No. Helene is a priestess. She
Is taught that she is immortal. That
is the way the Kammiloukaailimawai
teaches its priestesses of Pele. No,
Helene knows me only as the old
teacher. She lived yonder in the tem?
pie, and I taught her there. She is
all I have, Helene, and now you come
with soldiers to take her from me."
"I Bhall not take her from you. You
may go with me to find Helene, and,
if she likes, she can take yon to live
with her, for Helene will be wealthy
ind can do what she likes."
"Ah!" whispered the old man.
"Will Bhe do that? Ah! I would
not like to lose my Helene."
He fumbled among some papers in
a box he took from some corner of his
hat.
' Is your wife dead?" asked Gor?
don.
"Yes. Helene is all I have."
"How long have you been teaching
of Pele?"
"Many years. It is a beautiful
thing, the worship of Pele."
"Crazy as a bedbug,'' said Seacamp.
"Loony as an owl. It's a wonder ha
hasn't sacrificed Heleno to Pele long
before this."
A smile showed itself in the old
man's face.
"I have it here," he said.
He handed me a roll tied with a ribbon.
I undid it. It was a marriage certificate.
In one corner was a picture of Uncle
Tom. In the other?
A mist came before my eyes. My
hands trembled and the paper shook.
I felt a sensation of horror go all
through me. My brain seemed hot.
My heart almos t burst.
"What's the matter?" hoarsely asked
Gordon. "Tom, Tom, man, speakl
What is it? Anything wrong with the
| marriage certificate?"
"That face! That face!" I cried,
hurling the paper at him and covering
my eyes to shut out the sight.
"A beautiful face," said Gordon,
wonderingly. "A lovely face. No wonder
your uncle fell in love with it.
This is the picture of Annette, is it,
Jean Chicot?"
"Yes; it is Annette, the mother of
Helene."
"God!" I said. "Help me in this
hour of trial. That face?that face?
it is the priestess of Pele?Kaumai?
the woman I loved?the murderess of
iny sister?the woman we have sworn
'to kill! Oh, what mystery is this!
"What miserable fate is this that makes
a murderess of my uncle's wife, the
mother of Helene?"
"No!" shouted Chicot." "This is
net the picture of Helene. It is the
picture of Annette, her mother.
Helene looks like her mother?very
much like her."
"And Helene!" I cried. "Speak,
man, fool, beast! Where is Helene?"
i "On Lanai, in the Temple of Pele
I there, on Kapatoli."
I felt myself going. I grew dizzy
and faint with horror.
"Come," I said. "There is nothing
else to do. My uncle's wishes
must be carried out. Afterward?
afterward?God's will be done!"
Silently and slowly wo trudged
down the valley toward Wailuku.
Silently, because that had happened
which filled us with horror. Slowly,
because it was getting on toward
night, and the mountains hid the
moon. Slowly, too, because Jean
Chicot, tottering, jet strong, walked
with us.
Gordon strode ahead, smoking furiously.
He frequently ht,d to wait for
us to come up with him. On his facs
was a dark, ominous look, foreboding
jilL And it was no gentle hand thai
help.frfl J^an Qhioot oyer rough ?laog?.
r ^
""The devil's in it aH," I heard Seacamp
grumble to himself. *1 can't
understand it, but the deyil is now on
top.** " *
(To be continued) '\\
Length of Life.
Even a chronic pessimist ought to
dud something to be cheerful about
in the recent census bulletin on the
mortality statistics of th United
States for the decade ending In 1900,
says Leslie's Weekly. The bulletin
shows that the advances made in meqical
science and sanitation and in
preventive and restrictive measures
enforced by the health authorities
have had a striking effect upon the comparative
death rate for the cities of
this country where a system of registration
is in force.
In 1890 the death rate in 271 cities
of 5,COO or more population was 21
per 1.000; in 1900 the rate was 18.6
in 361 cities of 8,000 population and
upward?a reduction of 24 per 1,000.
Another statement of special interest
and significance just now is that the
deaths reported as due to consumption,
including general tuberculosis, decreased
from ;245.9 per 100,000 of population
in 1890 to 190.5 in 1900?a very
large reduction, due, the census authorities
believe, to the better knowledge
of the disease and the measures
adopted for its prevention.
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UJO 44 U|31|tiJ AL( JJUU.a U + Uj ? ?
Alis?a Aum sao{jBaBd3J<I ojidasuuv
ATLANTIC COAST LINE R. B. CO.
CONDENSED SCHEDULE.
TBAINS GOING SOUTH.
Dated Jan. 15.1902 Noo5. No. 35. No.51
P. M. A. M.
Leave Wilmington *3 45 f6 00
Leave Marion 6 40 8 45
Arrive Florence. 725 925
P.M. A.M.
Leave Florence *8 00 *3 30
Arrive Sumter 9 lo * 4 33
No. 52
P. M. A. M
Leave Sumter 9 15 *9 25
Arrive Columbia 10 40 11 05
No. 52 runs through from Charleston via
Central R. R., leaving Charleston 6 00 a. m.
Lanes 7.50 a. m., Manning 8 39 a. m.
train's going nobtb.
NoT54. No. 53. No.50
A. 31. P. M. P. M.
Leave Colombia *6 65 *4 40
" ?? ft on e* ?d
Arnve tsumter o<v o i*
No. 32
A. M. P. M.
Leave Sumter 8 20 *6 19
Arrive Florence '. 9 35 7 35 yi 40
A. 1L
Leave Florence 10 10 .... 8 15
Leave Marion 10 53 .... 8 54
Arrive Wilmington 1 40 .... 11 30
Dally. fDaily except Sunday.
No. 53 runs through to Charleston, 8. C.,
via Central R R .arriving Manning 6 53 p.
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Train No. 63 makes close connection at
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9 45 a. m., Charleston 11 85 a. m., Tuesdays
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Trains on Conway Branch leave Chadbourn
12 01 p. rn., arrive Conway 2 20 p. m.,
returning leave Conway 2 65 p. m? arrive
Chadbourn 520 p. m., leave Cbadbourn 5 35
. p. ra.. arrive Elrod 8 10 p. m., returning
leave Elrod 8 40 a. m., arrive Chadbourn
11 25 a. m. Daily except Sunday.
H. M. EMERSON,
Gen. Passenger Agent.
? ? "?VTTV rp Vf VVPRROV
i. a. aljjuX f ?
Gen'l Manager. Traffic Manager.
im
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| Labor Savinj
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i ttit, r%
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JACOB A. RMS
The author of " How the Other Half Lives " vrKl
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' an immigrant in America, a workman, a traveler,
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LYMAN ABBOtT
I will contibute aoeries of important papers on fcadamcntal
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Prepared by E. C. rvwitt AC&, CbicaaoRegistration
Notice.
The office of the Supervisor of Begtitration
Will be opened on the firel
Monday in every month for the purpoee
of the registering of nny person
wbois qualified as follows:
Who shall have been resident of
the State for two years, end of tho
county one year and of the polling
precint in which the elector offers to
vote four months before thsday oleleo*
tion, and shall have paid,six months be?
iore any poll tax then due and payable^
aud who can both read and write any
sectioif of the Constitution of 1895
submitted to him by the supervisors,
of registration, or can show that ha
owns, and hat paid ail taxes collectable
(taring the present year on property is
tnis State assessed at three bnnfeed
dollar* or more. J. 3. EADDY,
< Clerk of Board.
iiMiil
one sending sketch and description of
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