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Best Cough Byrun. Tastes good. Uso 
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ANDERSONVILLE VIOLETS. 
Copyrighted by the Rural New-Yorker. 
All rights reserved. 
chapter vn —( Continued .) 
John dropped upon the soft pine needles 
thankful for the chance to rest. He drew his 
revolver and placed it upon the ground beside 
him ready for instant service. Uncle Nathan 
crouched iu the shadow of the tree with his 
eyes fixed on the space over which the dreaded 
bloodhound must come. What were they 
thinking about waiting there in the solitude? 
Of the hateful prison with all the horrors they 
had left behind them, or the home before 
where the wife and the little girl were wait¬ 
ing? Is it not true that at such times when we 
sit down with grim determination to wait the 
coming of our fate, when we feel that retreat 
is cut off, that the better, purer thoughts 
crowd into our minds and the cruel, hateful 
past is dropped for the time? The moon earae 
slowly up over the trees. It did not hurry 
ocor Andersouville as the suu had done. Its 
feebler light could not search into all the dark 
owners and push out the horrors that crouched 
there. Slowly and peacefully it sailed over 
the heavens, painting the earth with beauty, 
transforming hideous shapes at a touch of its 
mellow light, into beautiful things. 
The little glade so eagerly watched by the 
fugitives seemed, as the moonlight swept down 
into it, a very sporting place for fairies. The 
moonbeams danced right royally along the 
stumps and grasses. The thicket, behind 
which the men were sheltered,seemed changed 
into a row of hideous creatures that scowled 
grimly over the little glade and reached out 
with long arms to push back all intruders. 
The moonlight stole down behind the thicket. 
It glittered along the barrel of Uncle Nathan’s 
musket, gleamed on the fixed bayonet and 
touched the grizzled face of the stern sentinel 
into something like tenderness, for the same 
moon had looked into the faces of “the folks’' 
at home. It was only for a moment that the 
ragged form under the tree was seen. Uncle 
Nathan crept back under the shadow w here 
the moon could not follow. For an hour 
they waited iu silence. Then suddenly Uncle 
Nathan rose to his knees and brought the mus¬ 
ket to his shoulder. The bayonet flashed out 
into the moonlight. John grasped his revolver 
and drew up under the thicket. 
A slight rustle was heard on the other side 
of the glade, and after a moment’s hesitation, 
a man stepped out into the open space and 
stood where the light fell directly upon him. 
He carried a package in one hand while the 
other was held up above him. There were 
two things that caused the musket to lower. 
The face of the new comer was the face of a 
negro. At his belt the letters “U. S.” flashed 
into view. Both were symbols of brotherhood 
to the fugitives. The man advanced a few* 
steps, and again held up liis hand. 
“Halt! who goes there!” challenged Uncle 
Nathan from his post under the tree. 
“Fren’l” came the answer iu the unmistak¬ 
able accent of a negro. 
"Advuuce friend, audgive the countersign,” 
again came the hoarse whisper. 
“Rations" was the answer, and the package 
was held up in front. 
“Pass friend, with the countersign,” and 
the musket dropped and John opened the 
thicket. 
The man passed through this opening and 
stood before them. A tall, well-formed 
negro, wearing the pants, belt and cap of the 
Union army. He carried a bag in his haud, 
which he threw on tbe ground beside them. 
His story was quickly whispered. He w'as 
the “boy” of whom the old negro had spoken. 
A soldier iu the Union army, he bad left 
Sherman to visit the old folks. He was hid¬ 
ing by day, waiting for this very chance of 
guiding prisoners back to the Union lines. 
His father had told him of the adventure at 
the log, and, careless of the danger from the 
dreaded dog, he bad followed them with a 
supply of food. He was ready to fight with 
them. He told his story simply and theu 
stood waiting for their renly. His race is in¬ 
ferior, they say. He never can lift himself 
out of his inferiority, and yet, what can we 
say when such men go to the very end of 
daring? 
John and Uncle Nathan thought nothing of 
their new comrade’s color. They shook his 
hand aud welcomed him heartily. Sol—for 
such he gave his name—took Uncle Nathan’s 
gun and advanced to the thicket to stand on 
guard while the others ate the food that be 
had brought. 
“’Taiu’t much, boss,” he whispered, “but 
we git mo’, I reckon, when we go back.” 
The repast, was certainly a frugal one—a 
great corn cake and a dozen baked potatoes. 
Frugal though it was, it seemed delicious 
enough to the hungry prisoners, and they ate 
greedily, on their knees, with the sack between 
them. The meal came to un end all too soon, 
aud they rose for a consultation. At a sud¬ 
den “hush!” from Sol they all crept under the 
thicket to listen. The sharp ear of the negro 
had detected the approach of the pursuing 
party. He listened earnestly for a moment 
and then gave the musket back to Uncle 
Nathan. 
“Dat dorg done gnt away from dem,” he 
whispered. “I fix him,” and he drew a long 
knife from his belt and crept through the 
thicket aud across the open space. At the 
edge of the glade he halted, and, assuring 
himself of the dog’s approach, he crouched iu 
the shadow of a log to wait. Uncle Nathan 
cocked his musket aud placed it in position. 
In a few moments the dog, entirely ignorant 
of tbe fate awaiting him, could be distinctly 
heard running through the bushes. 
The squad from the prison had followed 
rapidly ou the trail. The bloodhound made 
savage attempts to break away, but the strong 
keepers hold him fast. He trotted with his 
nose ou the ground, pulling impatiently on 
the cords that held him, and tearing at the 
muzzle over his jaws. Led by Bill, the sol¬ 
diers followed in single file. The suu went 
down, but the party still pressed on through 
the pines. The moon gave them ample light 
for their purpose. All went well till the 
party reached tbe log where the old negro 
had been chopping. They halted a moment to 
rest and consult, when the dog, with oue sud¬ 
den and impatient bound, broke away from 
the negroes and sprang into the shadow 
alone. The keepers, fearful of the punish¬ 
ment due them, slid into the thicket and hid 
from sight. The soldiers followed the dog as 
best tliey could, though their course was but 
slow through the thick bushes. Thus it was 
that the dog came bounding on alone to the 
glade where Sol was waiting him. It seemed 
almost an age to tbe two men under the tree 
before the houud burst through into the 
moonlight. The great ugly head fiercely 
thrust itself through the thicket, and halted 
for an instaut as if surprised. 
So] started from the shadow with his knife 
in liis right haud and n thick stick in his left. 
He advanced straight to the beast with the 
club held before him. aud tbe knife held at the 
side. John rose to his feet the better to view 
the strange combat. The fierce eyes of the 
hound glittered in the moonlight. Ho could 
utter no loud sound, for the thick muzzle held 
his jaws firmly together. Through his drawn 
lips the white teeth gleamed, aud great drops 
of foam fell from his tongue. He drew back 
as the negro advanced, and like a flush sprang 
savagely at the club that Sol cunningly held 
in front of him. Sol stepped to one side, aud 
with one sickening blow, drove his knife into 
the dog’s neck. The animal turned in its 
agony, aim fell heavily upon its side. Sol 
sprang upon the houud aud plunged his knife 
again and again into the throat. Tbe poor 
animal, muzzled as he was, could offer but a 
feeble resistance. In a shore time he lay mo¬ 
tionless. He hail followed the trail to his 
death. After satisfying himself that the 
hound was dead, Sol came back under the 
tree where the others were waiting. He 
coolly wiped the blood from his knife with a 
bunch of piue ueedl is, and knelt in the shad¬ 
ow to wait the pursuing party who now fol¬ 
lowed the dog. 
Loug Bill aud his friends came at last. 
They came crashing through the underbrush 
without the least attempt at concealment. 
The first intimation of the dire disaster that 
had falleu upon them, was the mutilated body 
of the dead dog which they found as they 
broke through the thicket into tbe little glade. 
Bill, who was leading, stopped iu horror at 
this unexpected sight, and the others gathered 
about him where the watchers could easily 
examine them. There were nine iu the party. 
Uncle Nathan covered Bill with his musket 
while John took good aim at another; Sol 
grasped his knife, ready to spring into the 
crowd if necessary. Had the squad of Rebels 
pushed on across the glade, a bloody fight 
would have ensued, for the fugitives, driven bo 
desperation, would never have yielded. But 
Long Bill and his party never came by the 
dead hound. There was something terrible to 
them in this mysterious murder of the fero¬ 
cious dog that had followed so many prisoners 
to the death. There he Jay before them man¬ 
gled and bloody. A few moments before he 
had been full of savage life. They had heard 
no outcry, no sound of a struggle. 8ome 
mysterious power, silent and terrible, had 
reached between them and their victims. 
They knew not in what dark shadow this ter- 
lible power might even now be lurking. They 
glanced nervously at the thicket before them. 
Long, eager arms seemed to reach out to 
threaten them. They turned after a short 
hesitation back, out of the moonlight. After 
a whispered consultation under the trees, they 
THE AMERICAN 
marched, with many a nervous glance, away 
from the fated ground where the dead dog 
was lying. They crept together in tbe dark¬ 
ness, and walked hurriedly on. 
Back near the log, where the great mistake of 
the expedition bad been made, a badly-frigbt- 
ened object rolled out iu frout of them. It 
was one of the negroes that bad tried to hold 
the hound iu check. Bill grasped the black 
keeper by the neck and brought him into the 
moonlight. 
“Whar ye been hidin’ at, ye nigger.” 
The darkey, never at a loss for a story, told 
with chattering teeth his imaginary version 
of the causes that led to the dog’s death. 
“Yon jes orter have seed him boss,” be said 
with widely protruding eyes. “1 done tole 
you dat he was a man. He jes grab dat dorg 
an’ shuck de life outer him, jes like I shake a 
rabbit. Ho was a man I done tole you.” 
Bill kicked the black story-teller to one 
side. It is uot kuown whether the soldiers 
took the story for the truth or not. They cer¬ 
tainly did not stop to discuss it. They 
marched sullenly back through the woods to 
Andersonville, and certaiu it is that the Maine 
men never set eyes on them again. 
(To be Continued.) 
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