The watchman and southron. (Sumter, S.C.) 1881-1930, August 30, 1899, Image 8
P
r>?v
THE STRANC
jr-"'
MORRO'
BY RUDYA
ME :-.
- Alive or dead-there is no other way.-Na
tive Proverb.
There is, as the conjurers say, DO de
ception about this tale. Jukes by acci
dent stumbled upon a village that is
well known to exist, though he is the
emly Englishman who has been there.
A somewhat similar institution used to
Nourish on the outskirts of Calcutta,
and there ia a story that if you go into
the heart of Bikanir, which is in the
heart of tho great Indian desert, you
shall come across not a village, but a
town, where the dead who did not die
Tbrst may not live have established their
headquarters. And since it is perfectly
toe that in them same desert is a won
derful city where all the rich money
fenders retreat after they have made
_ j ieir fortunes (fortunes so vast that the
.owners cannot trust even the strong
fian of the government to protect
Ahern, but take refuge in the waterless
sands) and drive sumptuous C spring
.barouches and buy beautiful girls and
decorate their palaces with gold and
ivory and Minton tiles and mother of
pearl, I do not see why Jukes* t ale
should not be true. He is a civil en
gineer, with a head for plans and dis
tances and things cf that kind, and he
certainly would not take the trouble to
invent imaginary traps. He could earn
more by doing his legitimate work. He
never varies tu rtale in the telling and
grows very hot and indignant when he
chinks"of the disrespectful treatment he
received. He wrote this quite straight
forwardly at first, but he has since
touched it up in places and introduced
moral reflections, thus:
In the beginning it all arose from a
slight attack of fever. My work neces
sitated my being in camp fer some
months between Pakpattan and Muba
xakpur, a desolate, sandy stretch of %
country, as every one who has had the
misfortune to go there may know. My
coolies were neither more nor less ex
asperating than other gangs, and my
iwork demanded sufficient attention to
v keep me from moping had I been in
clined to so unmanly a weakness.
On the 23d December, 1884, I felt a
little feverish. There was a full moon at
the time, and in consequence every dog
near my tent was baying it The brutes
assembled in twos and threes and drove
me frantic. A few days previously I
had shot one loud mouthed singer and
suspended his carcass interrorem about
60 yards from my tent door. But his
friends fell upon, fought for and ulti
mately devoured the body and, as it
seemed to me, sang their hymns of
thanksgiving afterward with renewed
energy.
The light headedness which accom
panies fever acts differently on different
men. My irritation gave way after a
short time to a fixed determination to
slaughter one huge black and white
beast-who had4 been foremost in song
and first in flight throughout the even
ing. Thanks to a shaking hand and a
giddy head, I had already missed him
twice with both barrels of my shotgun,
when it struck me that my best plan
" would be to ride him down in the open
and finish him off with a hog spear.
This, of course, was merely the semi
deliricus notion of a fever patient, but
I remember that it struck me at the
time as being eminently practical and
feasible
-d I therefore ordered my groom to sad
dle Pornic and bring him round quietly
to the rear of my tent When the pony
was ready, I stood at his head prepared
to mount and dash out as soon as the
dog should again lift up his voice.
Pornic, by the way, had not been out
of his pickets for a couple of days. The
night air W2s crisp and chilly, and I
was armed with a specially long and
sharp pair of persuaders with which I
had been rousing a sluggish cob that
afternoon. You will easily believe,
then, that when he was let go he went
quickly. In one moment, for the brute
bolted as straight as a die, the tent was
left far behind, and we were flying over
the smooth, sandy soil at racing speed.
In another we had passed the wretched
dog, and I had almost forgotten why it
was that I had taken horse and hog
spear.
The delirium of fever and the excite
ment of rapid motion through the air
must have taken away the remnant of
my senses. I have a faint recollection
of standing upright in my stirrups and
of brandishing my hog spear the
great white moon that looked down so
calmly on my mad gallop and of shout
ing challenges to the camel thorn bushes
as they whizzed past Once or twice,
I believe, I swayed forward on Pornic's
neck and literally hung on ty my spurs
-as the marks next morning showed.
The wretched beast went forward
like a thing possessed over what seemed
to be a limitless expanse of moonlit
sand. Next, I remember, the ground
rose suddenly in front of us, and as we
topped the ascent I saw the waters of
the Sutlej shining like a silver bar be
low. Then Pornic blundered heavily on
his nose, and we rolled together down
some unseen slope.
I must have lost consciousness, for
when I recovered I was lying on my
stomach in a heap of soft white sand,
and the dawn was beginning to break
dimly over the edge of the slope down
which I had fallen. As the light grew
stronger I saw that I was at the bottom
of a horseshoe shaped crater of simd,
opening on one side directly on to the
shoals of the Sutlej. My fever had alto
gether left me, and, with the exception
of a slight dizziness-in the*head, I felt
c affects from the fall overnight.
WB B JUKES. I
:D KIPLING.
Pornic, who was standing a few
yards away, was naturally a good deal
exhausted, but had not hurt himself in
the least. His saddle, a favorite polo
one, was much knocked about and had
been twisted under his belly. It took
me some time to put him to rights, and
in the meantime I had ample opportu
nities of observing the spot into which
I had so foolishly dropped.
At the risk of being considered tedious
I must describe it at length, inasmuch
as an accurate mental picture of its
peculiarities will be of material assist
ance in enabling the reader to under
stand what follows.
Imagine, then, as I have said before,
a horseshoe shaped crater of sand with
steeply graded sand walls about 35 feet
high. The slope, I fancy, must have
been about G5 degrees. This crater in
closed a level piece of ground about 50
yards long by 30 at its broadest part,
with a rude well in the center. Round
the bottom of the crater, about three
feet from the level of the ground proper,
rar a series of 83 semicircular, ovoid,
square and multilateral holes, all about
three feet at the mouth. Each hole on
inspection showed that it was carefully
shored internally with driftwood and
bamboos, and over the mouth a wooden
drip board projected, like the peak of a
jockey's cap, for two feet. Ko sign of
life was visible in these tunnels, but a
most sickening stench pervaded the en
tire amphitheater-a stench fouler than
any which my wanderings in Indian
villages have* introduced me to.
Having remounted Pornic, who was
as anxious as I to get back to camp, I
rode round the base of the horseshoe to
find some place whence an exit would
be practicable. The inhabitants, who
ever they might be, had not thought fit
to put in an appearance, so I was left
to my own devices. My first attempt to
"rush" Pornic up the steep sand banks
showed me that-I had fallen into a trap
exactly on the same model as that
which the ant lion sets for its prey. At
each step the shifting sand poured down
from above in tons, and rattled on the
drip beards of the holes like small shot.
A couple of ineffectual charges sent us
both rolling down to the bottom, half
choked with the torrents of sand, and I
was constrained to turn my attention
to the river bank.
Here everything seemed easy enough.
The sand hills ran down to the river
edge, it is true, but there were plenty
of shoals and shallows across which I
could gallop Pornic and find my way
back to terra firma by turning sharply
to tho right or the left. As I led Pornic
over the sands I was startled by the
faint pop of a rifle across the river, and
at the same moment a bullet dropped
with a sharp "whit" close to Pornic's
head.
There was co mistaking the nature
of the missile-a regulation Martini
Henry "picket. " About 500 yards away
a country boat was anchored in mid
stream, and a j<" of smoke drifting
away from its bows in the still morn
ing air showed me whence the delicate
attention had come. Was ever a re
spectable gentleman in such an im
passe ? The treacherous sand slope al
lowed no escape from a spot which I
had visited mest involuntarily, and a
promenade on the river frontage was
the signal for a ^ombardment from
some insane native in a boat. I'm
afraid that I lost my temper very much
indeed.
Another bullet reminded me that I
had better save my breath to cool my
porridge, and I retreated hastily up the
sands and back to the horseshoe, where
I saw that the noise- of the rifle had
drawn 65 human beings from the badger
holes which I had up till that point
supposed to be untenanted. I found
myself in the midst of a crowd of spec
tators-about 40 men, 20 wemen and
ene child who could not have been more
than 5 years old. They were all scantily
clothed in that salmon colored cloth
which one associates with Hindoo men
dicants and at first sight gave me the
impression of a band of loathsome fa
kirs. The filth and repulsiveness of the
assembly were beyond all description,
and I shuddered to think what their
life in the badger holes must be.
Even in these days, when local self
government has destroyed the greater
part of a native's respect for a sahib,
I have been accustomed to a certain
amount of civility from my inferiors,
and on approaching the crowd naturally
expected that there would be some rec
ognition of my presence. As a matter
of fact there was, but it was by no
means what I had looked for.
The ragged crew actually laughed at
me-such laughter I hope I may never
hear again. They cackled, yelled, whis
tled and howled as I walked into their
midst, some cf them literally throwing
themselves down on the ground in con
vulsions cf unholy mirth. In a moment
I had let go Pornic's head, and, irritat
ed beyond expression at the morning's
adventure, commenced cuffing those
nearest to me with all the force I could.
The wretches dropped under my blows
like ninepins, and the laughter gave
place to wails for mercy, while those
yet untouched clasped me round the
knees, imploring me in all sorts of un
couth tongues to spare them.
In the tumult and just when I was
feeling ver> much ashamed of myself
for having thus easily given way to my
temper a thin, high voice murmured in
English from behind my shoulder:
"Habib! Sahib! Do yon not know me?
Sahib, it is Gunga Dass, the telegraph
i castor. "
I I spun round quickly and faced
speaker.
Gringa Dass (I have, of course,
hesitation in mentioning the man's J
: name) I had known four years bei
as a Deccanee Brahman lent by
Punjab government to one of the Kl
sia states. He was in charge of a bra]
1 telegraph office there, and when 11
last met him was a jovial, full stoma
ed, portly government servant, witl
marvelous capacity for making i
puns in English, a peculiarity wh
made me remember him long aft
had forgotten his services to me in
official capacity. It is seldom thai
Hindoo makes English puns.
Now, however, the man was chan;
beyond all recognition. Caste ma
stomach, slate colored continu t!
and unctuous speech were all gone,
looked at a withered skeleton, turh
less and almost naked, with long, mat
hair and deep set, codfish eyes. But
a crescent shaped scar on the left che
the result cf an accident for whic
was responsible, I should never h;
known him. But it was indubita
Gunga Dass and-for this I was thai
ful-an English speaking native, Vi
might at least tell me the meaning
all that I had gone through that day
The crowd retreated to some distal
as I turned toward the miserable figi
and ordered him to show me so
method of escaping from the crater. '.
held a freshly plucked crow in '.
hand and in reply to my questi
climbed slovfiy on a platform of sa
which ran in front of the holes a
commenced lighting a fire there in
lenee. Dried bents, sand poppies a
driftwood burn quickly, and I deriv
much consolation from the^fact that
lit them with an ordinary sulph
match. When they were in a brig
glow and the crow was neatly spitted
front thereof, Gunga Dass began wi1
out a word of preamble:
"There are only two kinds of me
sar, the alive and the dead. When y
are dead, you are dead, but when y
are alive, you live." Her.e the ere
demanded his attention for an insta
as it twirled before the fire in dang
of being burne'd to a cinder. "If y(
die at home, and do net die when y<
come to the ghat to be burned, y<
come here. "
The nature of the reeking villa;
was made plain now, and all that I h;
known or read of the grotesque and t.
horrible paled before the fact just coi
municated by the ex-Brahman. Sixte<
years ago, when I first landed in Bor
bay, I had been told by a wanderii
Armenian of the existence, somewhere :
India, of a place to which such Hindo
as had tb.9 misfortune to recover fro
trance or catalepsy were conveyed ar
kept, and I recollect laughing hearti!
at what I was then pleased to considi
a traveler's tale. Sitting at the botto:
of the sand trap, the memory of Wa
son's hotel, with its swinging punkah
white robed attendants and the sallo
faced Armenian, rose up in my mind
1 vividly as a photograph, and I burst ii
to a loud fit of laughter. The contra:
was too absurd !
Gunga Dass, as he bent over the ui
clean bird, watched me curiously. Hil
doos seldom laugh, and his surroun<
ings were not such as to move GuDg
Dass to any undue excess of hilarit]
He removed the crow solemnly from th
wooden spit and as solemnly devoure
it. Then he continued his story, whic
I give in his own words:
"In epidemics of the cholera you ar
carried to be burned almost before yo
are dead. When you come tc the rive
side, the cold air perhaps makes yo
alive, and then, if you are only littl
alive, mud is put on your nose ani
month and you die conclusively. If yoi
are rather more alive, more mud is put
but if you are too lively they let yoi
go and take you away. I was too lively
and made protestation with ange:
against the indignities that they en
deavored to press upon me. In thos
days I was Brahman and proud nr n
Now I am dead man and eat"-here hi
eyed the well gnawed breastbone witl
the first sign of emotion that I had see:
in him since we met-"crows and otb
er things. They took me from my sheet!
when they saw that I was too lively
and gave me medicines for one week,
and I survived successfully. Then the}
sent me by rail from my place to Okar
station, with a man to take care of me,
and at Okara station we met two other
men, and they conducted we three on
camels in the night from Okara statioE
to this place, and they propelled rn
from the top to the bottom, and th?
other two succeeded, and I have been
here ever since, two and a half years.
Once I was Brahman and proud man,
and now I eat crows."
"There is no way of getting out?"
"None of what kind at alL When I
first came, I made experiments fre
quently, and all the others also, but we
have always succumbed to the sand
which is precipitated upon our heads."
"But surely," I broke in at this
point, "the river front is open, and it
is worth while dodging the bullets,
while at night"
I had already matured a rough plan
of escape which a natural instinct of
selfishness forbade me sharing with
Gunga Dass. He, however, divined my
unspoken thought almost as soon as it
was formed and, to my intense aston
ishment, gave vent to a long low chuc
kle of derision-the laughter, be it un
derstood, of a superior or at least of an
equal.
"You will not"-he had dropped the
sar completely after his opening sen
tence- "make any escape that way.
But you can try. I have tried. Once
only."
The eensation of nameless terror and
abject fear which I had in vain at
tempted to strive aga asi overmastered
me completely. My long fast-it was
j now close upon 10 o'clock, and I bad
j eaten nothing since tiffin on the previous
; day-combined with the violent and
j unnatural agitation of the ride, had ex
I haust ed nv , and I verily believe that
j for a few minutes I acted as one mad.
j I hurled myself against the pitiless sand
I slope. I ran round the base of the cra
I ter, blaspheming and praying by turns,
j I crawled out among the sedges of the
i river trout, only to be driven back e
j time in an agony of nervous dreac
the ri e bullets which cut np the s
round me, for I dared not face
death of a znad dog among that hidf
crowd, and finally fell, spent and i
ing, at the cnrb of the welL No
had taken the slightest notice of an
hibition which makes me blush h<
sven when I think of it now.
TVc or three men trod on my p;
ing body as they drew water, but t
were evidently used to this sort
thing and had no time to waste u
me. The situation was humiliati
Gunga Dass, indeed, when he '.
banked the embers of his fire with sa
was at some pains to throw half a c
ful cf fetid water over my head, an
tention for which I could have fa]
on my knees and thanked him, but
was laughing all the while in the ss
mirthless, wheezy key that greeted
on my first attempt to force the sho
And so in a semicomatose conditio
lay till noon. Then, being only a n
after all, I felt hungry and intima
as much to Gunga Dass, whom I 1
begun to regard as my natural protect
Following the impulse of the on
world when dealing with natives, I ]
my hand into my pocket and drew
4 annas. The absurdity of the
struck me at once, and I was aboul
replace the money.
Gunga Dass, however, was of a <
ferent opinion. "Give me the mone]
said he; "all you have, or I will
help, and we will kill you!" All this
if it were the most natural thing in '
world.
A Briton's first impulse, I believe,
to guard the contents of his pocke
bu' a moment's reflection convinced
of the futility cf differing with the c
man who had it in his power to ma
me comfortable and with whose helj
was possible that I might eventua
escape from the crater. I gave him
the money in my possession-9 rupe
8 annas and o i>ie-for I always ki
small change as backsheesh when I i
in camp. Gunga Dass clutched 1
coins, and hid them at once in his n
ged loin cloth, his expression changi
to something diabolical as Le look
round to assure himself that no one h
observed us.
"Now I will give \*m* something
eat," said he.
"What pleasure the possession of r
money could have afforded him I ?
unable to say, but inasmuch as it c
give him evident delight I was r
sorry that I had parted with it sc res
ily, or I had no doubt that he wot
have had me killed if I had refus*
One does not protest against the vag
ries of a den of wild beasts, and r
companions were lower than any beas
While I devoured what Gunga Dass h
provided, a coarse chapatti and a cu
ful of the foul well water, the peoj
showed not the faintest sign of curiosi
-that curiosity which is so rampar
as a rule, in an Indian village.
I could even fancy that they despis
me. At all events they treated me wi
the most chilling indifference, ai
Gunga Dass was nearly as bad. I pli<
him with questions about the terrib
village and received extremely unsa
isfactory answers. So far as I cou
gather, it had been in existence fro
time immemorial-whence I ccnclud<
tnat it was at least a century old-ai
during that time no one had ever be<
known to escape from it. (I had to coi
trcl myself here with beth hands, lest tl
blind terror should lay hold of mease
ond time and drive me raving rour
the crater.) Gunga Dass took a in;
licious pleasure in emphasizing th
point and in watching me wince. Notl
ing that I could do would induce hil
to tell me who the mysterious "they
were.
"It is so ordered," he would reph
"and I do not yet know any one wh
has disobeyed the orders,"
"Only wait till my servants find ths
I am missing," I retorted, "and
promise you that this place shall b
cleared off the face of the earth, an
I'll give you a lesson in civility, toe
my friend. "
"Your servants would be torn i:
pieces before they came near this place
and, besides, you are dead, my dea
friend. It is not your fault, of course
but none the less you are dead am
buried. "
At irregular intervals supplies o
food, I was told, were dropped dowi
from the land side into the amphithea
ter, and the inhabitants fought fo:
them like wild beasts. When a mai
felt his death coming on, he retreate<
to his lair and died there. The bod]
was sometimes dragged out of the hoi
and thrown on to the sand or allowee
1 to rot where it lay.
The phrase "thrown on to the sand'
caught my attention, and I asked Gungi
Dass whether this sort of thing was nol
likely to breed a pestilence.
"That," said he, with another of his
wheezy chuckles, "you may see for your
self subsequently. You will have muet
time to make observations."
Whereat, to his great delight, 1
winced once more and hastily continued
the conversation: "And how do you
live here from day to day? What dc
you do?" The question elicited exactly
the same answer as before, coupled
with the information that "this place
is like your European heaven. There is
neither marrying nor giving in mar
riage. "
Gunga Dass had been educated at a
mission school and, as he himself ad
mitted, had he only changed his reli
gion "like a wiseman," might have
avoided the living grave which was
I now his portion. But as long as I was
! with him I fancy he was happy.
Here was a sahib, a representative of
the dominant race, helpless as a child
ind completely nt the mercy of his na
tive neighbors. In a deliberate, lazy
way he set himself to torture me as a
schoolboy would devote a rapturous
half hour to watching th 1 agonies of an
' impaled beetle or as a ferret in a blind
\ burrow might gino himself comfortably
j to the neck of a rabi it. Tho burden of
; his conversation was that there was no
? escape "of no kind whatever," and that
; I should stay here till I died and was
"thrown on to the sand. " If it were
poss! Die to forejudge the corrrc-Tba'cIc
the damned ort the advent cf a new soul
in their abode, I should say that they
would speak as Dunga Dass did to me
throughout that long afternoon. I was
powerless to protest or answer, all my
energies being devoted to a struggle
against the inexplicable terror that
threatened to overwhelm me again and
again. I can compare the feeling to
nothing except the struggles of a man
against the overpowering nausea of the
channel passage-only my agony was
of the spirit and infinitely more terri
ble.
As the day wore on the inhabitants
began to appear in nll strength to catch
the rays of the afternoon sun, which
were now sloping in at the mouth of
the crater. They assembled in little
knots and talked among themselves
without even throwing a glance in my
direction. About 4 o'clock, as far as I
could judge, Gunga Dass rose and dived
into his lair for a moment, emerging
with a live crow in his hands. The
wretched bird was in a most draggled
and deplorable condition, but seemed to
be in no way afraid of its master. Ad
vancing cautiously to the river front,
Gunga Dass stepped from tussock to
tussock until he had reached a smooth
patch of sand directly in the line of the
boat's fire. The occupants of the boat
took no notice. Here he stopped and,
with a couple of dexterous turns of the
wrist, pegged the bird on its back with
outstretched wings. As was only nat
ural, the crow began to shriek at once
and beat the air with its claws. In a
few seconds the clamor had attracted
the attention of a bevy of wild crows
on a shoal a few hundred yards away,
where they were discnssing something
that looked like a corpse. Half a dozen
crows flew over at once to see what was
going on, and also, as it proved, to at
tack the pinioned bird.
Gunga Dass, who had lain down on a
tussock, motioned to me to be quiet,
though I fancy this was a needless pre
caution. In a moment, and before I
conld see how it happened, a wild crow
who had grappled with the shrieking
and helpless bird was entangled in the
latter's claws, swiftly disengaged by
Gunga Dass and pegged down beside
its companion in adversity. Curiosity,
it seemed, overpowered the rest of the
flock, and almost before Gunga Dass
and I had time to withdraw to the tus
sock two more captives were struggling
in the upturned claws of the decoys.
So the chase-if I can give it so digni
fied a name-continued until Gunga
Dass had captured seven crows. Five of
them he throttled at once, reserving
two for further operations another day.
I was a good deal impressed by this, to
me, novel method of securing food and
complimented Gunga Dass on his skilL
"It is nothing to do," said he. "To
morrow you must do it for me. You
are stronger than I am."
This calm assumption of superiority
upset me not a little, and I answered
peremptorily : "Indeed, you old ruffian !
What do you think I have given you
monev for?"
TO EE CONTINUED.
Atlantic *te Line Eailroai
of
CONDENSED SCHEDULE.
In affect November 20th, 1S98.
SOUTHBOUND.
No. 35 No blt
Lv Darlington, 8 02 arx
Lv Elliott:, 8 45 ans
Ar S'jmrer, 9 25 arx
Lv Sacjter, "4 29 an:
Ar Crestoo, 5 17 am
Lr Crestgn, 5 45 act
Ar Pregnalls, C' 15 ac
Ar Oraoge>)crg, 5 40 am
Ar Denmark, 6 12 am
NORTHBOUND.
No. 32 No. 56J
Lv Deomarkj 4 17 pm
Lv Oraogeburg, 4 00 pm
Lv Pregnalls, 10 00 am
Ar Cre toc, 3 50 pm
Lv Creiton, 5 13 pm
Ar Sumter, 6 03 pm
Lv Sumter, 6 40 pm
Ar Elliott, 7 20 pm
Ar Darliogton, 8 05 pm
JDaily except Sunday.
Trains 82 and 35 carry through Pullman
Palace Buffet Sleeping cars between Ne*
York aod Macon via Augusta.
T. M EMERSON, H. M. EMERSON,
Traffic Manager. Gen'l Pass Agt
J. Pv. KENLY, Gen'l Manager
STANDARD BRED STALLION
MocLoc,
Will Stand the Season in Sumter
-AT
Boyle's Stables.
Chestnut Stallion, foaled May
18921; bred by Maj. Campbell
Brown, Ewell Stock Farm,
Tennessee.
"MODOC," eired by McEween, 2.18$; Srst
dani Lady R idnvra ; rrgi tered io Vd 12
American Stud Bock. Le is one of the Sees?
bred stallicnd in tho Mate: t.rc-d for size
style, beautj r.nd speed, he is of kind one
geQtle disposition. A sure foal celter.
SOUTHERN RAILWAY.
Condensed Schedule in Effect June 11th, 1899.
No.ll No. :i
Duilv Daily
EASTERS "TIME.
jNo. 6'NoJ2
Daily Daily
530n 7 00a Lv... Charleston ... Ar-11 00a 8 Lp
609p 7 41a " .. Summerville . " 10 Ife t 32?
7.50o 855a " ...brunchville... " j 8.52a: 602?
8-J4 a *. ...OraagebtUir... 44 ! 22a! 529p
92op 10 lea "... Ringville....44 ! 7 :}Ga!.4.3$?
10-SSii '. Camden .TunciionLv.j 350?
ll 40a!Ar.Camden.Lv;.! 300?
1010p ll OCa Ar....Columbia ....Lvl 645al 355p
530p| 7 03a Lv... Charleston ... Ar
7 50p! 915a " .. .Branchville... "
819pi 9 41aj " .... Bamberg .... 44
83lp y 52a ".... Denmark ..."
850p'l010a " ...Blackville."
957p!ll 0?a" .Aiket." ;
1045p'll51a Ar.Augustaun.d.Lv44
natal
8 52a
8 24a
8 Hal
7 56a!
7 02a|
6 20a
8 7p
602?
5 Sop
5 1975
508p
400n
310?
JiX.
Sun.
Sun.
only
Lv. Augusta -
Ar. Sandersville.
44 Tennille.
Ex.
Sun.
7 00a 9 30a 5 21p
lOOpI 119pi 9 OOo
130pj 130p 9 21p
Lv. Tennille. 515a 310p 310?
44 Sandersville. 525a S21p 3 2 p
Ar. Augusta. 9 00aj 710p 8 30?
! Mix. ! Mix.
|Daily;Exsu
Lv. Allendale..
" Barnwell...
" Blackville .
Ar. Batesburg.
6 45a;.
7 25a!l230p .
7 45a! lOOp!.
. 330p|.
! Mix. ! Mix.
iExsu Ex su
Sun.
only
Lv. Batesburg. .' ? ? .- ! 4 ^;A\V'
" Blackville!. 10 20a 7OOp 10 Ka
Barnwell.....'1045a 78opl08oa
Ar. Allendale.>.j 830p[ll 15a
Atlanta and Beyond.
Lv. Charleston... 7 00a; 53 pf.
Ar. Augusta.il Sla lO 45p.
" Atlanta. 820p c-00a ......
Lv. Atlanta.llOOpj 515a |0u?
Ar. Chattanooga. 5 45a 9 2ca, 8 *0?
Lv. Atlanta.] 580a] 4l5p
Ar. Birmingham.ll 20a;10 IC?
" Memphis, (via Birmingham)...] 9 80p 7 4 a
Ar. Lexington.j 500p! 500a
44 Cincinnati.! 730p; 7 43a
44 Chicago...! 7 15a! o30?
Ar. Louisville
44 St. Louis .
Ar. Memphis, (via Chattanooga).
7 Sop 7 55a
7 (Wa 600?
7 403
To AsheviIIe-Cincinnati-XiO iis7iIIo.
No.3ii.No.3S
_ EASTERN TIME. ? Daily i Daily
Lv. Augusta. 244Jp 930p
44 Batesburg.| 4 19a| 12 o7a
Lv. Charleston. . v._:_J^.__11__r j 7 C0a| 5S p
Lv. Columbia (UnionDepot). ll 40a; 8 30a
Ar. Spartanburg . 310p;ll 25a
44 Asheville . 7 00? 240p
44 Knoxville.I 4 leal 7 20?
44 Cincinhnati. 730p| 7 45a
44 Louisville (via Jellico).I......{ 650a
To Washington and the East.
Lv. Augusta..
44 Batesburg.
44 Columbia (Union Depot).
Ar. Charlotte...-..
Ar. Danville.
Ar. Richmond
Ar. Washington.
44 Baltimore Pa. R. R.
44 Philadelphia..
44 New York.
i 240p| 930?
i 419p;l207a
: 523pi 215a
i 845p| 915a
;i2 55a| 122?
iT ai 625p
! 7 40a! 905p
! 912a 1125p
1135a 253a
! 203p 623a
Sleeping Car Line between Charleston and
Atlanta, via Augusta, making connections at
Atlanta for all points North and West.
Solid Trains between Charleston and Ashe
ville, carrying elegant Pullman Buffet Parlor
Cars.
Connections at Columbia with through trams
for Washington and the East ; also for Jackson
ville and all Florida Points.
FRANK S. GANNON. J. M. CULP,
Third V-P. & Gen. Mgr., Traffic Manager,
Washington, D. C Washington, D. C.
GEORGE B. ALLEN,
Div. Pass. Agt.,
Charleston, S. C. '
W. A. TURK.
Gen'l Pass. Agt
Washington, D. C.
S. H. HARDWICK,
Asst. Gen'l Pass. Agt.
Atlanta. Ga.
ATLANTIC COAST LINE
North-Eastern R. R. of S. C
CONDENSED SCHEDULE.
TRAINS GOING SOUTH
Dated No. No. No.
Apl. 17, '99 36 23* 3 _
am pm
Le Florence 3 25 7 45
Le Kiogstree 8 55
Ar Laces 4 33 9 13 pm
Le Lanes 4 33 9 13 6 20
Ar Charleston 6 03 10 50 8 00
TRAINS GOING NORTH.
No. No. No.
78* 32*j 62*
am pm am
Le Charleeton 6 33 4 49 7 00
Ar Lanes 8 03 6 14 8 32
Le Laces 8 63 6 14
Le Kegs tree 8 20
Ar Florence 9 20 7 20
am pm am
.Daily, f Daily except Sunday.
No. 52 runs through to Colnnbia via Cen
tral R. R. of S. C.
Trains Nos. 78 and 32 ron via Wilson anc
Fayetteville-Short Line-aod make close
connection for all points North.
Trains on C. D R. R. leave Florence
daily except Sunday 9 50 a m, arr>e Darling
ton 10 15 a m, Eartaville 9 15 a rn, Cberaw
1130 a m, Wadesboro 2 25 p in. Leavt
Florence daily except Sunday 7 55 p m, ar
rive Darlington S 20 p m, Bennettsville 9 17
p rn, Gibson 9 45 p m. Leave Florence
Sunday only 9 30 am. arrive Darlington
10 05 a m
Leave Gibson daily except Sunday 6 00
a m, Bencettsville 7 00 a m, arrive Darling
ton 8 00 a m, leave Darlington 8 50 a m, ar
rire Florence 9 15 am. Leave Wadesboro
daily except Sunday 3 00 p m, Cberaw 4 45
p rn, Hurtsville ? 00 a m, Darlington 6 29
p m, arrive Florence 7 00 p m. Leave Dar
lington Sunday only 8 50 a m, arrive Flor
ence 9 15am.
J. R. KENLEY, JNO. F. DIVINE,
Geo'l Manager. Gen'l Sup't]
T M EMERSON, Traffic Manager.
S.M EMERSON, Gen'l Pase. Agent
Vinegar.
I have on hand a lot of
Home-made Vinegar of very
fine quality. The flavor is del
icate, while the strength is
equal to any to be had.
Will be sold at my residence
for 40 cents per gallon.
Ve ?r. STEEP*.