CHAPTER XXVI.

TWO years rolled away-two short, bright years of individual and

national prosperity, and then came a change. To use the words of the

immortal Dickens, "It was the best of times, it was the worst of

times; it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness; it

was the season of light, it was the season of darkness; it was the

spring of hope, it was the winter of despair; we had everything

before us, we had nothing before us; we were all going direct to

heaven, we were all going direct the other way." These utterances of

inspiration so fittingly describing the period that ushered in the

bloody French Revolution, may be applied with equal truth and force

to the years that inaugurated the war between the States in fair

America.

Did not prosperity bud and blossom in every vale and hamlet of this

fair domain? And yet were a people ever more unmindful of, or more

ungrateful for their blessings? Bickering and strife, dissension and

hatred, grew fiercer with the growth of the nation's grandeur.

Slavery, on one hand said, "I will," and Freedom, on the other, "You

shall not." So the war-cloud, "the size of a man's hand" only at

first, appeared upon the dim horizon of the future. Wisdom sought to

devise plans for averting war, but Folly shook her locks tauntingly,

and said mockingly, "Ha! ha! War is pleasant pastime." So the

culmination was reached, and a misguided people, clamorous for war,

sounded the tocsin that caused rivers of blood to flow from

brothers' hearts, and enshrouded a grand and happy people in

desolation and disgrace.

At the time when the war-cloud of fratricidal conflict was rolling

dark and broad over the land, a treacherous enemy on the border were

menacing and even destroying many of our country's peaceful

citizens. Upon the broad frontier at the Far West it became the duty

of the government to hold these wily foes in check by a strong and

reliable armed force. To this north-western outpost of service

Captain Marshall had been ordered by the voice of his country. Not

ordered there as to a holiday excursion, but ordered into actual

bloody conflict, and to an ordeal that would have tried the bravery

and courage of a veteran. At the head of his command, Company A, 3d

Regiment U. S. Regulars, Captain Marshall reached this post of

danger in the hour of its most imminent peril. But for this timely

arrival of troops, the peaceful little town of Minneopoli might have

been laid waste, and its defenceless inhabitants cruelly butchered

or carried away captive. But the premeditated destruction of the

town was averted, the treacherous "red-skins" disappointed, and

Captain Marshall's bravery demonstrated beyond a peradventure.

It was the night after the attack of the Indians, and the bloody

repulse. All was quiet. The troops were reassembled in camp. The

usual garrulity of the soldiers was checked by the recollection of

their dead comrades, so recently laid to rest in soldiers' graves.

All, too, remembered the danger through which they had passed, and

many were moody and silent. At length a bright-faced, light-headed

young recruit spoke out, seeing the silence and sadness around the

camp-fire. "I say, captain, that was a wretched red-skin of a chief

that you hauled in yesterday. He looked more like the Prince of

Darkness than the chief of a tribe. I thought once, cap'n, he had

you; and I was just ready to pick him off, when I saw you were

safe."

"Yes, Carlos, that was a close place, and but for a kind fate, I

should be sleeping with those brave fellows who have left us. Peace

to their resting-places."

"I was sorry you did not kill him; he deserved death. But how quick

he did surrender, when he saw you close in on him with your sword!

Ha! ha!"

"Yes, Mico is a bad, bad Indian, and has caused more trouble to this

settlement than all the other Indians combined. I guess he will

enjoy his freedom, when he gets it again. Confinement and chains are

worse than death to him."

"I tell you, cap'n, they are cowardly devils. They can't stand

gunpowder. At the very smell of it they run out from their

hiding-places, like so many rats from a burning building. I hated to

see one of them taken alive. It's not like fighting civilized

people; is it, cap'n? I am in favor of the black flag in a fight

with these red devils."

"War is war, Carlos, and brutalizes the most intelligent people on

earth, if they indulge in it. I trust our troubles are ended here,

for a long time, if not forever, now that Mico is our prisoner. At

any rate, I hope all will remain peaceful and tranquil till I go

home and return. For a month I have a leave of absence, to visit my

native State."

"Going home, captain, to see your mother?" spoke up a fair-haired

young boy, scarcely eighteen, who had sat a silent listener to the

conversation between Carlos and his commander.

"Ah! Franco, I have no mother; she died long ago," replied the

captain; "but I am going back to my native State. My father and a

brother and sister live there."

"It has been many a long day," said Franco, "since I saw my native

hills, and heard my mother's gentle voice, as she went singing about

our humble home. I often wonder how she could sing so, with so much

poverty and care constantly about her. Maybe I shall never see her

again ;" and a shade of sorrow crept over the fair young face of the

French recruit.

The captain replied, "I trust that you may, Franco, though you are

now so many leagues away. What brought you away from her, Franco?"

"Poverty, captain, poverty; and unless I can lighten the burden of

my mother's life by returning, I shall never go back!"

Silence at length settled upon the camp, and one by one the groups

of comrades disbanded. The campfires were extinguished, and at an

early hour sleep tenderly enfolded these guardians of their

country's peace and security.

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