Conneaut High School - Tattler Yearbook (Conneaut, OH)

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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

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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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8 THE TATTLER to add to the confusion, the poor animals at the back of the shed were screaming and rearing in useless endeavors to escape. The roof was afire in several places and the heat was becoming unbearable. It was plainly of no use to resist further and so Lieutenant Lawrence displayed a white handkerchief through the door and the firing ceased. The little party hastened out of the shed as it fell to the ground a crackling, roaring heap of flames, and surrendered themselves to the Mexican commander. The animals, which had finally broken away, were caught again and securely fastened to the wagon and tbe prisoners were disposed of so that they could not escape. A council of war was now held near the wagon so that the “coward” plainly heard all that was said. It was finally decided that since the prisoners refused to tell as to the whereabout of the dispatches, that they should be shot at sunrise. The council broke up and the wagon was left alone on the silent plain. The stars came out and shed their dim light over the scene. All was quiet and peace prevailed where only a few' short hours ago turmoil and death reigned. The silence of the night was broken by the jests of the Mexicans who were encamped in the distance around the burning ruins of the little shed, the stamping of the horses or the distant howl of the coyote. A strange calm came over the man in the wagon as though the night herself had imparted some of her soothing qualities to him. The happenings of the day appeared to him as he thought them over and over again but a toad, horrible dream, and ibe buried his face in his arms and wept with shame at his cowardice. Why was it that he was born such a coward? Why must he suffer so? And then the words of the Mexican commander fame to him again, “They must be shot at sunrise.” What a dishonorable end for those who had borne so much for their country’s sake! But they must not be shot! Surely there—why could he not save them himself? ' His presence was not known to the Mexicans. He could dig up the d’s-patches, seize one of the horses and ride to the fort. It could not be very far away, and it was the only chance for himself as well as the prisoners, for he would surely be discovered in the morning. He felt a new sensation of calmness and strength such as he had never known before in all hi3 life come over him and he resolved to make the attempt. It was at least better than doing nothing. Cautiously he felt his way out of the wagon. The fire had burned low and the camp was lost in slumber. Slowly he felt his way over to the n'ace where be knew the dispatches to be buried. The subdued light from the dying fire was just enough for him to locate the spot. Hastily he dug up the papers and turned to leave when he saw a Mexican sitting bolt upright. intently watching him. It was the spy “Miguel!” What should be done? He dared not shoot for it would arouse the camp and kill all chances of escape or rescue. He felt for his knife and before the astonished Mexican knew what had happened there was one man less to answer the roll call in the morning. The “coward” now hurried over to the horses and was soon galloping off in the direction of the fort. Before the Mexican camp was astir the next day, it was surrounded by American troops and the Mexicans became prisoners while those whom they had condemned became free. As the morning sun shed its first rays of light over the silent plain, the wagon again started out for the fort, but it was no longer driven by a coward but by a hero of heroes.