FAITHFUL TO DEATH.

Ashburton Guardian, Volume XVII, Issue 4363, 4 December 1897, Page 4

FAITHFUL TO DEATH.

The following is aa extract from a powerfully written story, "The Rallied Square,""by Walter Wood, in Pearsons Magazine, uuly one man in the square is .landing, and that is Gordon, still dramming with hie foot and still playing, as if a host of living men were near him, able to obey hit* fcummons, "Up an' waur them a' Willie." There is something so sublime, about him, so much of courage and of grandeur in that lonely living creature erandinghigh above hia crowd of dead, that the foe is'kept from giving him final thrust of the spear % and something in that screaming of pipes which makes them, lusting aa they are for still more blood, withdraw for many pacep, _o that they may watch him. Gordon ..feels a dimness in his eye", and is conscious of a faintness and a pain to which as yet ha has been a stranger. Bis hands, too, _re cf that deep colour which comes to men in war from one thing only. He pauses and look, at his doublet. Then be sees that the scarlet ia stained, by a liquid which is tricking with a curious pumping' motion from a spot above his heart. No need to tell him mow that it is all over, and that ve»y soon he must succumb, and be as those who are lying silently about h;m. A spear has struck him in the breast, and the very life-blood is streaming from him. The pipes hang loosely iv his nerveles. hands, and the silence of the field is broken only by the flapping of the wings of the encircling vultures. Ia that expressive lull 'he savage who supped ou« as apokeman before the fight began, and who i» yes unir-jured, came forward fur fche second time to parley. Gordon hears what he has to say. He is told that his great bravery had been equal to the courage of even their renowned and warlike tribe, that by his own hand their chief had met his death, and that if he will come and live amongst them in their leader's stead his life will be spared. They make him understand that hi. valour has impressed them so much that they are wishful that he shoal; dwell and rule amongst them in the placa of their late head. He waves the spokesman off, . answering nothing, and refusing to hear him furiher,, and awaits the final onrush. Bat the enemy are hesitating, wondericg what he will do, knowing now that he has got his death wound. J3e Btlli retains his pipes and clasps thpm closely to him, and silently he stands, tho last of the rearguard, heed lens of his gaping wound, seeing not and heeding not the dusky horde thatg-z. upon him spellbound iv their savage admiration. Here are soldiers lying dead aboui them who in light have shown tbeniaelve* equals of their owe. and moat seasoned warriors, of those who have fought the " fight of men but ono is l ft, and he is & wounded beast at bay. * * * For a while they sure, and he in silence look* at them, lor he Is wondering what his little pibroch shall be. He sees the cloud of vultures ne*r him, and in the distance sights their carrion reinforcuments Then he calls io miud th« tune to which the Highlanders were mustered for the field of Waterloo. Its appalling significance occurs io him, and he lifts th. mouthpiece and puts it, ior the last time, between his parched lips. There is a sort of sob aa the pip.s _,r« filled ; the player's fingers tremble lor a moment on the doubtful keys, and wild and tuneless notes come from tho instrument But Ihe wildness passes gradually away as the notes sHtle into " Com* to m», and I will give you flesh." Mechanically, as if in a dream, Gordon fcurns and throws his left foot forward ; _._. right follows, and, to tbe strains ot the pibrooh, he is marching round the *ilent square that he has rallied. At JAtat, still fronting the foe, he totters in his march. His wound has conquered, and he knows that he is overcome and is coming to his meeting with tha last gr. at enemy of all. True to tho traditions of his fathers and the honour of ihis ©oipa he meets his end face to the enemy, defiant to tho very last. He draws faimßelf op to his full height, and the effort causes the blood to rain upon the iscdd.n tartan of the pipes. He takes a long, deep breath, and for the last time plays the music of that awful song, drumming with his foot in union with; its wailing. -It is all over. Clasping the pipes to Ate r. eking doublet, he pauses for just an iofttant more. Then, a" his granctaire of the Greys had shouted a. Waterloo, he •cries. -Scotland for war !" and falls prone <apon his face, the tattle-pipes _.t4-i.».h ii in.