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About The Dalles daily chronicle. (The Dalles, Or.) 1890-1948 | View Entire Issue (May 12, 1891)
WHICH LCVETH BEST.
Iba buh ft sturdy and heroic soul.
B can go fnrtb to war and victory,
master tears, can smother sighs and
AmA. wit bout terror, as a martyr die.
Waman hath feeble frame and timid heart;
8ae shrinks in horror from the bloody strife:
-or tears will stream, her siitbs and groans
And not unfi-fghled ran she yield her life.
Yet woman has a stronger heart than man.
And woman's love more tender Is and true:
Firmer her faith, quicker her sympathy.
And more for Jems will she dare and do.
All through his mournful pilgrimage below
She was his tender, ever faithful friend;
Jean's fickle love oft wrung his soul with woo.
Bat woman loved him steadfast to the end.
New York Ledger.
THE A USTRALIAN'SSTORY
1 had just finished reading for the
twentieth time my last letter from home
"when a sudden growl from Bouncer,
mar station dog. brought me back from
the dream into which 1 was beginning
to fall and made me drop my letter,
look hastily round and then walk to the
toor of the hut. But all was as it should
be. Nothing unusual was to be seen in
any direction. The sun was sinking
bjood red behind a range, of dim bine
kills, and stars were beginning to show
o the paling sky.
Long Ridge station was a very soli
tary spot indeed, even at the best of
times: but just at present, when Long
Peter and 1 were its only occupants, the
loneliness of onr position was horrible.
J don't think Peter felt it as I did. . He
waa a tall, gannt Scotchman, who had
been a shepherd in his native land. 1
bad come out from a full nest a happy
Jkotne: and the awful monotony of the
Australian wilds seemed sometimes more
than I could bear.
' For a month at least Long Peter and 1
bad shared the work and the danger be
tween us, he, as the most experienced,
going out with the sheep, while I kept
. the hut, cooked the food and attended to
be various duties.
On this particular day I had been feel
ing an amount of listless weariness
which 1 could scarcely understand my
self; bnt the fact was that nervous de
yeauion so overpowered me that when
Bouncer rose up from my feet with a
1 frowl 1 started as though some terrible
hmger was close at hand. I walked to
the door of the hut, as 1 have said, and
looked keenly all around, but could not
ee anything unusuaL Still Bouncer
knew what he was about; he never
growled without having something to
bow for it. I therefore walked back to
y faithful companion, and, taking his
,. nozzle in both my hands. "What is it.
Bouncer, my boy?' I said. "Is it friend
w foe? Almost any one would be wel
come in this dreary solitude. '
Bouncer had risen to his feet and was
listening intently. Again he growled:
M, not growled, but whined impatiently,
and trotted to the door. Then I knew
that whoever might be approaching was
bo enemy, bnt a friend. Yet who could
, it be? Long Peter and his sheep were
Mt due yet for nearly an hoar, and 1
aeed scarcely say that afternoon visitors
were scarce at Long Ridge. I followed
Bouncer to the door of the hnt and,
hading my eyes with my hand, looked
earnestly toward the west, which was
the direction kt which the dog was look
ing. Presently the quick though muffled
tall of a horse's feet became distinctly
Audible. I knew the canter well; it was
that of Blackfoot, the splendid riding
horse belonging to Mr. Ashby, the owner
of the station. Yes, there he was, can
tering over the waving grass and making
straight for Long Ridge. "Good after
noon, Jem," be said in his usual pleasant
manner. "Give me a light for my pipe
nd a morsel to eat, for I must be off
again directly. Any news going? Long
Peter is not home yet, 1 suppose?'.
Even as Mr. Ashby spoke we could
recognize the bleating of the flock, and
could dimly see the white fleeces of the
sheep as they emerged from the somber
shadows of the trees. "Aye, there they
' oome." said the master, in a relieved
tone of voice; "and now, after a few
words with Peter, I can mount and be
en. I ought to be at home before it is
quite dark. Jem," he added impres
sively, "1 came today to warn you and
Peter that there are blacks in the neigh
borhood. They have been lurking round
the home station for several days, and
they mean mischief, too, for their
-women are not with them. 1 would
have sent Sam and Jerry here to help
you and Peter, but it is impossible now
to do so. My wife and children must be
protected, and we need all the hands we
have. I hope your guns are in good or
der. . Do you want powder or lead?
"We have enough of both," I replied,
"but we have only half a dozen bullets.
JT1 run them tomorrow." This I said
with a flush of shame rising to my
cheek, for had not Peter asked me that
very morning to run the bullets? Yet I
had spent the long summer day listlessly
reading letters, because, forsooth. 1 Baw
no immediate need of the bullets; and
now, thanks to my carelessness, we were
Mr. Ashby did not seem to observe my
embarrassment, for he was standing at
the door impatiently waiting for Peter.
He had, however, heard my words, for
-he replied immediately: "Don't put off
anything till tomorrow, Jem. Fetch the
mold and get the bullets run at once;
then go to the water hole and fetch up as
many bucketfnls as you can stow away
in the hut."
Even as he spoke Peter and his flocks
Arrived, the animals feeding quietly all
the way along. "Good evening, sir,"
aid Long Peter quietly to his master..
Tve had some trouble with the beasts
today. Three are missing. I found the
body of one of them. Sir, it had been
Mr. Ashby looked full at the man, con
sternation clearly written in his face.
"Are they so near us as that, Peter?" ha
said. "I must get home tonight. I only
came to warn you and Jem."
"1 don't think that you can possibly
go, sir," responded the shepherd, coolly
filling a pannikin of ten. . "They are too
dose to osr
! We looked at the man inquiringly;
his face was pale but resolute looking.
and his voice Bank to a whisper as he
added: "After seeing the spear wound
in the sheep I looked about me pretty
sharp you may be sure, bnt I saw noth
ing till I was clear of the timber, then 1
sighted one of the blacks wriggling
through-the grass like a snake. I would
have fired at him but 1 saw another,
then another, and I thought it best to
return and warn Jem. They did not
guess that 1 had seen them or I would
have had a spear through my back. As
it is 1 expect they will attack us to
night." Scarcely were the words put of his
mouth when a spear whizzed through
the open doorway and quivered in the
wooden slabs behind. Had my two
companions been as inexperienced as 1
was all would now have been confusion
and dismay, but both the master and
Long Peter were old colonists, and had
had more than one brush with the na
tives. They were both as cool as pos
sible. "Bar the door, Jem," said the shep
herd, "and hand me the powder flask
and bullets. Here, Bouncer, keep to
heel, good dog."
With a feeling more akin to agony
than I had ever known before, I handed
the powder flask to my fellow servant,
at the same time telling him that I had
forgotten all about the bullets, and that
only half a dozen remained on hand.
He just gave me one glance, partly in
dignation, partly pity. "Then we are
all up a tree," he said. "However, let
us do our best; two bullets to each of
us, Jem, and well stand by each other."
The good old fellow! 1 saw by his
face that be felt for me in the agony of
remorse I was enduring, and did not
mean to make it worse for me by his re
proaches. Yet Long Peter had a wife
at home among the' heather mountains,
and a daughter, a curl of whose golden
hair I had often seen in his pocketbonk.
Ah, Long Peter could not afford to die
Meanwhile Mr. Ashby was coolly re
connoitering through the loopholes; he
had let down the window, and was pre
paring for action as calmly as the shep
herd. We had handed him his two bul
lets, but he pushed them back; he had a
few of his own. "Take them, take them,"
he whispered; "you will need them all."
And truly we did. By this time the
moon had risen, its light gradually
growing on the landscape till we could
see the outlines of the trees, and could
see the long grass waving white in the
ghostly shadows, but all was silent
nothing but the hoarse cry of some night
bird broke on the stillness around. Oh,
how long was it to last, this dreadful
silence and inaction? For myself I must
confess that every pulse in my body was
beating like a sledge hammer, every
nerve quivering till I could scrrcely hold
my rifle. But the master and Peter,
they knelt as quietly as though no dan
ger was to be apprehended, their barrels
pointed through .the loopholes, while
they closely watched for any movement
But there was none. - The sheep were
camping quietly round the hurdles, the
night wind . swept with a mournful
sound through the dark trees, causing
the spectral tracery of the branches to
dance in the moonlight on the grass,
but that was all. Still the terrible si
lence. But suddenly there was a change,
three or four of the sheep rose, looked
all round, stamped with their feet and
huddled close together. Something had
alarmed them, some sight or sound as
yet unrevealed to our blunter faculties.
Bouncer rose to bis feet, too, whining
"Down, dog, down!" whispered Peter,
breaking the silence for the first time,
and the docile animal once more sank to
The next moment a loud report rang
out into a thousand echoes. Peter had
fired the first shot, a shrill death scream
following it, while we could dimly see
the dark figure of a man who leaped
from his ambush and fell like a clod to
"Now, master," cried Long Peter,
while rapidly reloading his gun, "fire
away, but aim .to the right, sir, aim to
the right. I can see the cursed creatures
gathering there in numbers."
Mr. Ashby obeyed the directions given
him by his servant, for in truth Long
PeU-r had a fuller view than any of us
of what was going on outside.
"There, you are all right!" he added
exultantly, as both Mr. Ashby's gun and
mine were fired at the same moment.
"You have each fixed your man, and the
others are drawing off for a little. . But
mark my words, sir," he added, "though
they are mortally afraid of onr guns,
they'll find out soon enough that our
ammunition is running short, then they
will fire the hut and we are done for.
Sir, I mean to get Bouncer to help us."
"The dog?" asked Mr. Ashby, inquir
ingly. "1 don't understand. What can
he do? They will certainly kill him if
you let him out!"
"So they will, jf they can catch him,"
replied the shepherd composedly; "but
we must take our chance of that, sir.
If you will write a line to the Head Sta
tion, telling them what a fix we are in,
I reckon that my dog will carry the let
ter there in less time than a thorough
bred horse could do it. I have taught
him, sir, to fetch and carry, little think
ing that at some time our lives might
depend upon him doing it. Please write
the letter, sir."
"But will he go to the Head Station
with it?" replied the master, who was
busily writing. "How can you get him
to understand?" ,
"Leave that to me, sir," replied Long
Peter; "the dog is as wise as any Chris
tian, and a deal wiser than many; be
sides, I have a waistcoat here belonging
to Jerry; if I show him that it is all right;
he loves Jerry, and knows that he is at
the Head Station. The only difficulty
is, will the black fellows wait long
enough before they fire the hut, so as to
allow of help coming? It is doubtful;
but we can only try. We are in God's
hands, sir." . .
"True," replied Mr. Ashby, as he
handed the letter to his faithful servant.
The master said no more, but I could
tee that his heart was. full. Ah, his dear
young wife, his' blue eyed little , ones! .'
Would he ever see them more?
There was certainly no time to lose.
I could see the dark figures of the natives
dodging round the hut, evidently think
ing that since we had ceased firing our
ammunition must be totally expended;'
but it was not so, we had each of us one
bullet left, but only one, which we were
keeping for emergencies, or for final
scrimmage. Meanwhile Long Peter had
pulled away a half rotten slab from be
hind his bunk, thus making a hole suffi
ciently large for Bouncer, to creep
through. He then fastened the letter
securely to his collar, the noble animal
giving now and then a suppressed whine
and trembling from head to foot with
anxiety. He had smelt at Jerry's waist
coat, and quite understood what was ex
pected of him. I could not bear to look
at Long Peter at this moment, his feat
ures were working with emotion, and I
could have sworn that there were tears
in his eyes; but he said nothing. Every
thing being now ready he led Bouncer to
the hole, held his muzzle for a moment
pressed hard between his hands, while
he gazed into the creature's expressive
eyes. "Now go, good dog," he whis
pered; and squeezing himself through
the hole Bouncer sped away on noiseless
We listened intently for a few min
utes; oh, how we listenened! our faces
blanched and our limbs trembling. Had
Bouncer escaped away on his weighty
errand without being discovered? Alas,
no! a sudden wild jabbering rose on the
night air. a rush of many feet, and the
next instant we detected a yelp of pain.
"They have surely speared him!" whis
pered Mr. Ashby.
But Long Peter turned on him almost
in anger. "No, no, sir," he said; "he is
just scratched. Hell do it yet, I know
"He must be quick then," replied the
master, "for those cursed savages have
struck a light somehow: they mean to
burn us out, look!"
Our eyes were now intently watching
the movements of the black fellows from
the loopholes, and we had not watched
long till we saw a flaming brand whiz
zing through the air till it fell upon the
stringy bark roof above our heads. An
other and another immediately followed,
still it did not seem to us that any of
them had taken effect.
"Carry up a bucket of water through
the trap door and pour it over the roof,"
whispered the master to me, "but take
care of yourself; don't let them see you."
I did as I was directed, and thorough
ly drenched the roof, but while thus en
gaged I heard a shout from below. It
was Mr. Ashby's voice.
"Come down, Jem; come quickly,"
he cried, and I rattled down the ladder
with a sinking heart. Long Peter lay
on the floor of. the hut, white and gasp
ing: a spear had entered one of the loop
holes and pinned him through the thigh.
In response to my groan of utter difr
may the good fellow struggled into a
sitting posture. .
"Never mind me, Jem,",-he said;
"fight it out to the last. - Take my gun,
there is one charge in it yet: but first
drag me into that corner." , -
I obeyed in silence, handed him a pan
nikin of cold tea, and then took my
place by Mr. Ashby's side. "Look out,"
he whispered. "I mean to fire at their
ringleader that man with the. blazing
log in his hand I fear he has already
fired the roof. I hear it crackling; but
it scarcely matters now, the end is - not
far off. We are doomed." - r
As he spoke these despairing words
Mr. Ashby fired, his bullet bringing
down the man aimed at, who, with a
wild screech, fell to the ground. There
was a pause of consternation after this,
and- a hurried talk among the savages
outside; then, with wild yells, the whole
force of the besiegers rushed on our little
garrison. A moment's surging round
the door, then it gave way with a crash,
Mr. Ashby's gun swinging on the crowd
of savages with terrific force, felling two
of them like oxen. I can scarcely de
scribe what followed. There was a wild
struggle with our guns and our fists;
then two black fellows forced me to the
ground; one was shortening his grasp of
his spear to drive it through my body,
when he suddenly fell on the top of me
dead, felWa by the butt end of Mr. Ash
by's gun But I knew little more. Dimly
I seemed to hear a loud hurrah from out
side, followed by the cracking of rifles;
then every sound died away into utter
"Well, 1 declare, you have, had a bit
of a scrimmage, and here's poor Jem
about done for!" It was the voice of
Jerry, who was dragging away the dead
body of my assailant from off my chest.
"No, I am not dead," I said, feebly
enough, "not even wounded, though
half choked with blood that is not my
own. Where is the master? and, oh, go
and look after Long Peter! He is terribly
hurt, I know."
"The other chaps are attending' to
him," said Jerry, "and as for the master
he says he is all right; he won't own to
a single scratch. He is a game one, he
is. . - We'll have you all carried to the
Head Station afore breakfast time, see
if we don't. But you should have seen
that dog of Peter's. Why, his feet was
all skinned and raw, and he had an ugly
spear wound in the shoulder, so that the
letter was covered with blood. We
could scarcely make it out, bnt we
guessed quiet enough that there waa
something amiss, and came - away at
once. We were just in time, Jem, my
boy." . .
"Didn't I tell ye as Bouncer would do.
it?" cried Long Peter, in rather a weak
and quavering voice. "Poor old chap,"
he added tenderly, as the faithful brute
limped across the hut at the sound of
the shepherd's voice and crept close to
his side. "You and me will never part,
Bouncer, never, as long as we live."
And they never did part till seven years
later, when, in extreme old age, Bouncer
died and was buried in a grave dug for
him by Long Peter himself. "Ah,"
he said, when the ceremony was over,
"why do them faithful brutes die so
soon? m never see his like again; he
waa as wise as any Christian, and a deal
more faithful than many." New York
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"ffl!aMfaSlTR E ATM E NT
The Dalles Chronicle
is here and has come to stay. It hopes
to win its way to public favor by ener
gy, industry and merit; and to this end
we ask that you give it a fair trial, and
if satisfied with its course a generous
four pages of six columns each, will be
issued every evening, except Sunday,
and will be delivered in the city, or sent
by mail for the moderate sum of fifty
cents a month.
will be to advertise the resources of the
city, and adjacent country, to assist in
developing our industries, in extending
and opening up new channels for our
trade, in securing an open river, and in
helping THE DALLES to take her prop
er position as the
Leading City of Eastern Oregon.
The paper, both daily and weekly, will
be independent in politics, and in its
criticism of political matters, as in its
handling of local affairs, it will be
JUST, FAIR AND IMPARTIAL
We will endeavor to give all the lo
cal news, and we ask that your criticism
of our object and course, be formed from
the contents of the paper, and not from
rash assertions of outside parties.
sent to any address for $1.50 per year.
It will contain from four to six eight
column pages, and we shall endeavor
to make it the equal of the best. Ask
your Postmaster for a copy, or address.
THE CHRONICLE PUB. CO.
Office, N. W. Cor, Washington and Second Sts.
The Grate City of. the Inland Empire is situated at
the head of navigation on the Middle Columbia, and
is a thriving, prosperous city.
It is the supply city for an extensive and rich agri
cultural an grazing country, its trade reaching as
far south as Summer Lake, a distance of over twe
THE LARGEST WOOL MARKET.
The rich grazing country along the eastern slope
of the the Cascades furnishes pasture for thousands
of sheep, the -wool from -which finds market here.
The Dalles is the largest original -wool shipping
point in America, about 5,000,000 pounds being
shipped last year.
The salmon fisheries are the finest on the Columbia,
yielding this year a revenue of $1,500,000 which can
and -will be more than doubled in the near future.;
The products of the beautiful KLickital vaUey find
market here, and the country south and east has this
year filled the "warehouses, and all available storage
places to overflowing with their products.
It is the richest city of its size on the coast, and its
money is scattered over and is being used to develop,
more farming country than is tributary to any other
city in Eastern Oregon.. - .
Its situation is unsurpassed! Its climate delight
ful! Its possibilities incalculable! Its resources un
limited! And on these corner stones she stands.