Conneaut High School - Tattler Yearbook (Conneaut, OH)

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6 THE TATTLER their rifles preparatory to drill. The little detachment stopped at the ammunition sihed long enough to take on its load and was soon rattling down the road and out of sight. A little while afterwards a dark-skinned son of Mexico known about camp as “Miguel” and who took care of the mules, rode slowly out of camp, to all appearances, only, but as soon as he was out of sight he set spurs to his mule and headed for the Mexican camp where he reported what he had accidentally overheard, and also the number and direction of the little party. Instantly all was astir in the Mexican camp and soon afterward a party, fifty strong, of Mexican cavalrymen galloped off across the plain in the direction of the little party. The sun shone high overhead as it was noon and its hot rays beat down upon the little party which was slowly wending its way across the plains. No sound broke the all pervading quietness of the place except the labored breathing of the mules, who drooped in the traces under the influence of the noonday sun, the creaking of the wagon or perchance an occasional remark of the troopers who followed behind. The lieutenant sat back comfortably in the broad seat and interested himself in the changing scenery, but of the driver he took no notice whatsoever, for that particular person was probably the most heartily despised person in the service. He was a tall, slender young man with a delicately refined countenance who, because of his great fear of fighting and because he was invariably found hiding behind some tree or stump during action, was commonly known as the “coward.” Lieutenant Lawrence, on the other hand, was probably the most popular and brave officer in camp and, perhaps his greatest fault, was his laxity in the observance of military custom and his free and easy manner with the men under him. In fact, there was not a man in camp who ■would not have given his whole month’s pay merely to have been selected for this enterprise, for it was always considered a great honor to serve under Lieutenant Lawrence. The detachment had now reached a rougher part of tihe country whert the roads were harder and smoother. The wagon was rattling on at a good pace when one of the cavalrymen spurred up beside the seat and. after saluting, spoke: “There’s a e-ang op horsemen, about fifty strong, behind us. and the only way we can make it out is that they are a detachment of Mexican cavalry. After looking out at the rear end and surveying th° Party through his field glasses. Lieutenant Lawrence shouted out orders to the men following: “The only thing we can do. boys, is to run for it; they are srreasers all right, and there are too many of them to fight in the ooen When they get near enough, use your carbines, perhaps that will check them some.” Then to the driver whose han s were trembling- so that he con’d hardly hold the reins: “Give me the reins, you trembling coward, and get behind the seat if you value your life.” The coward obeyed and fell in a bean under the seat. Lawrence seized the reins and lashed the mules until the four splendid animals were going at a breakneck speed. On and on past hill and bush the heavy wagon thundered, and behind rattled the horses’ hoofs, but the Mexicans were gaining and their high sombreros and swarthy visages could now be ouite plainly recognized. As the Mexicans

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THE TATTLER 5 “THE COWARD. E. M. It was breakfast time in the camp of the U. S. soldiers at the front in Mexico and although it was yet early in the day, the tropical sun beat down upon the long rows of white tents and the groups of soldiers collected here and there around small fires, smoking, laughing, joking and frying slices of bacon or boiling coffee. Far to the west the mountains, lit up by the early morning sun. reared their massive bulks to the skies while all around as far as eye could reach, lay a flat sandy plain of cactus and sage brush with perhaps here and there a few stunted trees, and inhabited only by the sneaking coyote, gopher and prairie dog. About a score of miles s outheast lay the headquarters of the Mexican troops wfhile about thirty miles south lay the isolated American post, “Fort Lincoln.” In front of the general headquarters the great military wagon with it3 heavy canvas covering emblazoned with the letters U. S. stood ready for a journey, hitched to one of the government’s splendid teams of four big black mules, who lazily switched their long, rope-like tails back and forth to keep off the bothersome flies. At the rear of the wagon stood six mounted cavalrymen in various attitudes of rest conversing with each other as to the nature of their errand. Presently a lieutenant of cavalry descended the headquarters’ steps and came with rapid stride down to the wagon. Instantly all were attention and the lieutenant spoke, “Boys.” he said, “we start this morning for ‘Fort Lincoln.’ We will load the wagon with ammunition for the fort and go by the road farthest west so as to escape detection if possible, for aside from the ammunition we carry private dispatches which I trust you will defend with your lives if necessary and so help to preserve the honor of your native land. It is needless to sav that there will be danger and that I have selected you because I know that yon will do your duty and do it well.” “Aye, that we will,” replied the men. “Six of us can handle a whole regiment of them dad-burned old greasers,” said one of the men. and, with many a joke upon the despised greaser, during which the young officer had lightly swung himself into the broad seat beside the driver, the little detachment started down the road, receiving on each side the hearty cheers of the soldiers who had finished breakfast and were now' cleaning

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THE TATTLER came into range the carbines began to crack. One Mexican threw up his hands and lurched out of ihis saddle and soon after one of the cavalrymen fell in the dust, never to rise again. But the wagon still rolled on. As for the coward, he was crouched in one corner of the lurching vehicle, his eyes dilating with terror, shrinking, trembling and groaning, a piteous excuse for a man, indeed! But this state of affairs could not go on forever. Something must be done. They now swung out into the plain again. The mules were showing signs of exhaustion and would not last much longer, but, for once, fortune favored the hard-pressed detachment. At one side of the road, upon a little sand knoll, was a small, deserted shanty, and as soon as Lawrence saw it, he shouted back, “Make for the house, boys; it’s our only chance.” The wagon swerved out of the road and came to a halt in front of the shanty. The men dismounted, unhitched the panting, sweating mule3 and tied them together with the dusty, foam-flecked horses, to some half rotted posts behind the house. Meanwhile Lieutenant Lawrence, hastily drew the dispatches from his pocket and, when he thought himself unwatched by anybody, scooped a hole in the sand, thrust in the dispatches and marked the spot by carelessly throwing a large stone on it. He did not wish any of the men to know of the whereabouts of the dispatches for fear that under threats they might possibly tell, but the “coward” who had remained in the wagon, either because he was too afraid to move, or because in his mind it would be the least likely to be searched, saw the lieutenant in the act of burying the papers although he was so excited that the significance of the action did not come to him until later. The horses were soon tied and the men hastened into the shed and barred the rickety door just in time to escape the flying bullets of the first of the Mexican troops. Before assigning the men to their posts. Lieutenant Lawrence, said, “Boys, this may be the last time we’ll ever see the light of day, but let us show these Mexican troops that the American people still have some few grains of patriotism left and if we must die, let us die as becomes brave men.” Xot a word was spoken in reply to the lieutenant’s inspiring speech, for the feeling was too intense for expression. After shaking hands with the men he calmly assigned them to their posts. Meanwhile the Mexican troops had dismounted and were cautiously approaching the shanty, keeping up an incessant firing. The bullets whizzed through the old building and. with a short gasp, one of the men fell with a bullet through his brain, but tibe men never flinched, steadied as they were by the brave example and calm voice of their leader. “Hold your fire, boys, until you can see the whites of their eyes,” he said, “save your ammunition and make every shot count.” Slowly the Mexicans approached until they began to think the men in the shanty had all been killed, then the rifles of the besieged spoke out sharply and each bullet found its mark. This disconcerted the Mexicans somewhat for. although they were anxious to capture the little band, still they did not wish to lose any men. Accordingly they drew back out of range and held a discussion. But it was getting toward dark and the thought that the party in the shanty might somehow escape during the night urged the Mexicans forward again. Before the little party was fairly aware of it the Mexicans launched down upon them with irresistible force. Another gurgling cry, and one more of the trusty little band was gone. The cabin was now filled w'ith smoke, flying bullets and splinters an