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THE JIINIATA
BY MAX. GREgislE,
In eastern climes many a sfrearn,
Sparkling in the summer beam,.
With arrowy rush, as wildly free,
As freakish, fearless in randy, •
Or floating, calmly, dreamily,
Speeds to its briny ocean-home,
And mingles with its surging foam.
Biead Nuns, from his mountain-source
Descending With imp . etuous,lorce, :
',Flows onward, with,agladsome
By pyramid and'mouldering pile;
And, where the erst imperial Rome
.Sleeps 'neath, ttatja's cloudless dome,
- .Gleams,ToEn's yore-empurpled. tide,
Asher . (g(11 of regal pride ;
Red.fiarites the
. GANor,s'- buyilished sea,
The pride of sordid' India.; ,
And sacred SORDA.N rr.oans,along. ' •
Seared vales' that.echoeddsraers song, ;
. tylcbu rellects4he,golden' sheen •
Glimmeribg.the pendant boughs between,
Th,o? vanished *Egy,p,Y.S beauteous 'queen,
Nor warrior Grecian Comes to, lave,
His fever in.the-liMpid wave;_
Cool is the glittering, current
the unriVale'cl ,
Ara swee,,,emhoWering roses gren, •
Where
,its'Olv.ery Waters floW,, „
UticonsCiouS - Of -
Of lfci4 items atirma'ssy,odd,
That ren ji,have embe.Wele7l,, far
Below the pillared CHILMI.:si.IjI
A'nd.'nea:th the:bleak:. l',a,rnassian
Must - nuts' the. farmed CASTA_Li.I 3 N."ri
":NoWSlone, 'th enailil hatln.ted,streaip,
;That
. wcive'th . e - poet'Sjorgeonsdreatn._
•
But, dearer. than those - rills .- 4'
SWeetly:ur - ned in'classie, lore;,
Brighter-than
the
'radiant.
Sparkling in tt:ie suribean, rint'ver,
Ts eny green forest stream to me,' _
1 ,
The JUNIATA, clear aria free, - _ -
As wildly past my boyhoiid's borne - -
She dashes in her pride of 'fbam; -
Down .the mountain's rough- facade, ;u
in mangy - a rainbow-bright cascade,
_Down from the proud and cloudy- heiTit,
..Where first her wavelets kissed the light;
And lovely'is her
.Through. Sabbath-dells that smile below
,Until;.a merry, loving Ur'de,
...:Witkislelerowned Sus2uEn4 . 4 wide,.
She links her cliamond4laShing,tAe., • ,
11right. river of my:young:Lie:li is home !
f love thy wood=g,irt banks 'to roam,.
Through all the long, warm summer'.days,
Dreaming of glory's bloomy- bays
And when . night'sSpell like curtains close,
And drape iho"-woritf in calm
1 love on thy moss-brinkio lie,
Alone, beneath the starry sky, _
For, in the stilly moonlight clear,
Thy rippling, in my' spirit's ear,
Is fraught with a thrilling sound,
Like that which stirs the air around
The fal?led fount, with 'Whose glad shout
A.strange, 'Sweet symphony rings but:--
A warbling,.softly musical
As that heard in TitiMin's hall,
oa,sorne,blithe fairy festival.
Oh ! when theie brilliant hours sweep by,
-And siorm-clouds pall' my mental, sky ;
When hope's nepenthe-power is dead; .
And.chilldespair.glooms o'er my head—
If such black hours :of curse and - blight,
Plutonian future veils .from sight— .
Then; -may ['slake my fever-thirst ;
Where thy. pure tribute-foun tiets burst,
And bathe iu thy fresh-gushing fioodi.,
My throbbing brain-anal rushing blood;
And, when life's fitful dream is done,.
May those who watched my orientsun,
En the - fond•bower of earliest years,• '
13edew, my grave'l,vith loving tears_
1812
[Vrcitil,thoLondon - Weehly Clirbnicle.]
JULES GERARD, THE LION KILLER.
THE LIFE AND,.ADVENI'URES OL J,u,i.:ES GE-
Rano, LION KILLER. Comprising
his Ten Years Campaigns aihring_the Lions
of Northe - rn Africa.
The race of.:Nimrod ; is not Yet extinct:
'The old hereditary .instinct of destructiveness
has survived, the,. wreck of ages, - 'and as liv
ing and ruling' in modern days., "In England,
its finest developement of late haS been'in the
person of Gordon Cumming ;. in Eranee - ,the
result is Jules Gerard: Gerard is'a.Frerich
man, in his earliest youth he was a: fire-eater.
boy
,at a Village reaet saw' - a' huge 'giant;
like ruffian,- ill-using'a woman, a crowd Stood,
around them, looked on in silence, and no,
one interfered.' The bop. stepped between
the woman and lier:tyrant, and said 'to the
latter, "You aro. a coward, leaVe this woman
in peace, or I shall 'knock you' down On:, 'the
spot." The mats was beaten by the
,boy.--
Jules Gerard of courSeivas the boy., .‘
There were live lions in France—contemp
tible fellows: Our hero soon extinguished
their lilliputium roar, any; looked - round and
sighed for a grander field. Accordingly he
•tF: •
.;•i•y .
- •
Af•-:••• •
•• •
2 ins. 3 ins.
371- 00
1 -insertion.
joined the Spahis, and landed:at Bone, in Al
geria the 19th of June, 1842. Gerard soon
wearied'of 'ordinary life. There were lions
in Africa—terrible ones to devour as well as
roar—very different to the good,natured fel
lows shot by Gordon Cumming. Lions that
routed and desolated whole Arab settlements.
Gerard resolved to war with them. He was
called to this life by the highest motives. , It
was no sordid love of fame or gain that actu
ated him... On the contrary, he was, but .an
instrument in the hands of that Providence
by whoin his life Was upheld to deliver the
Arabs from their most dreaded foes, and to
advance the causeo, civilization and human
ity. For ten years,Gerarcl,.pursued,,this life,
bearinginimmerable hardship, meeting with
innu'mdrablc - adventures,:surrounded by in
numerable dangers, yet always victorious,
and at length crowned with the laurel,wreath
of fame.
The English translator is of an enthusias
tic' disposition. He has had an interview
with the Lion-killer, 'lt seems 'to me hardly
possible,' writes the editor, who modestly
writes his'riame under the obscure initials,
'T. W. M.' "that those delicate and slender
hands, Which - he crossed before him after the
inannerof the Arabs, had, really gives the
deathl46v te,so many of the Litherto
mounr'elts2Of - the Atlas, and it was riot
until d had exarnined;'as closely as courtesy
permitted me to do, his long and sinewy
arms, erect port, clear and
,expressive eye,
and a certain mixture of modesty and self
confidence, that I was able to recognize in
him the greatest of all hunters since the days
of Nimrod, an the man who has confronted,
with calm and- reflecting courage, during a
long series of years - , more
been
dangers
than perhaps have ever been encountered by
any other being, warrieroi sportsman, living
or dead." The only comment nn this would
be a favorite exclamation of orie of the heroes
in the "Vicar of Wakefield." But Jules Ge
rard .sttall 'speak for himself. We'extrant 'his
first:
ENCOUNTER 'WITH A LION
They - had scareely- - gOne ten paces, when a
most formidable'roar resounded in the ravine
tour very-feet: This•roar filled, my heart
with SG much joy, I , hat,-t orget ling the unfor
tunate state of my gun, and without caring
whether =-I 'was followed' or not, r dashed
throno . h=the-wood in search of the lion.
When I-ceased to hear- him, - I stopped to
listen. Bou-aziz and Bou-oumbask 'were up
on my heels, pale as ghosts; not daring to
speak, but gesticulating at a .great' rate, to
make me comprehend , that C was. sacrificing
my life. few minutes after the lion roar
ed again, at about a hi:inched paces: from us;
and, at, the geryAcst' growl [,dashed forward,
rushing though the wged with lite impetuos,
ity'ot awild,animal.. •
WheA the lion-ceased to roar, I halted again
ina Small glade,,where my Iwo- companions
joined me. My dog, who until then had
kopt behind me, without seeming to compre
hend, began to snuff' the wind ; then he en
tered thewood . cautiously, with his hair brist
ling and his'ta . minute after he came
galloping back much frightened, and crouch
ed down between my legs;
Boon after heard loud and heavy
steps on the leaves Which covered, the ground,
and,the rustling of a huge body though the
,trees border;in,g the glade. It was the lion
hirnself leaving, his lair, ,and ascending- to-,
ward as i „.'with out, suspecting our presence.—
Bou-aziz and the spahi were already should
ering their guns.
I then pointed out to them with rny foot a
lentife'sorne•paces., behind rue, telling them
riot to,stir,fror.n,that spOt rmtil the end of the
.drama,.rtienmpand which they did not fail to
obey=.. Indeed Imust give these worthy fel
mtich credit for persisting in staying by
me, notwithstanding their extreme terror ;
for judge it as you please, I, for my, part,
think' it no mean courage, when you have
your doubis about the success of an adven
ture, to.accept tire passive part of spectator,
and to remain unmoved on the scene of ac
tion. . • ,
The lion was still ascending; [ could now
measure the distance which separated me
from him and could distinguish the regular, -
rumblind sound of his heavy breathing. - I
then ads;anced a few paces nearer 19 the edge
of the - glade where I expected him to appear,
in order to have a chance of., shooting him
closer. I could already hear him advancing
at thirty races, then at twenty, then at
teen ; still [.felt no fear. All I thought was,
suppose he, were to turn back I . Suppose he
does tioi come into the glade !- And at each
sonrid which showed him nearer to me, - my
heart beat lender,. in. a complete rapture ,of
joy and hope. - Ono anxious thought -only
crossed my mind . . "What if . my gun were
t 9 miss - fire 1" said 1, glancing down upon it.
But confidence again.prevailed, and
,my only
anxiety was fo,rthe long-wished for appear-,
afice of my foe.
The-lion after a short pause, which seem
ed 'to • me an age, began to
see
forward
again; and,presentlY I could see
. before me,
by the sfae.dight„at but a few* papes.ofF, the
top' - 'of a small - tree, - which I could almost
touch, - actually shaken by the contact of the
lien.: This was his last pause. •There was
now between us two but the thickness of that
single tree, covered with branches from the
foot upwards..
I was standing with my face to the wood,
and with my gun .pointed, so as to be ready
to fire. the moment the animal shOuld enter
the glade; and having still an interval of
about a second, I took advantage of it to make
sure that
,I could :properly regulate the. aim
of my barrel. Thanks to a glimmer of, light
which came from the west, -to the clearness
of . the - sky. filled - With. shining stars, and to
the whiteness of - the glade, which was. con-,
spiCuous against the dark green of the forest,
I 'could jiist • See the end of My barrels, that
was all,. but. it sufficed. for so close an aim.—
it necessary, to say that I did not
waste much tinaelin thisinVestigation.
T was beginning to. find • that the animal
was rather sloW in his, motions, ,and to fear
that, instead of advancingurisuspicionsly, he
'had become aware of my preeence, and was
about to spring. over the lentisc which separa
ted us. As if to justify this fear, the lion
,
~.
-, , ,,t , . • ,-. 1-,.
" /'....,-I.:'
.
4
;, ' %
ok *, .
HUNTINGDON,
gave two or three deep growls, and then be
gan to roar furiously.
Oh,! my fellow 'disciples of Saint Hubert !
you, who can feel , and understand, fancy
yourselves,at night in the open forest, lean
ing against a small tree, out of which rises a
volley of roars enough to drown the noise of
thunder itself.- Irna,gine yourselves with only
one single shot to fire on this formidable ani
mal, who only falls by the merest chance un
der a single ball, and who kills his opponent
without mercy, if he is not killed himself.
You can doubtless understand that, had
trusted to my strength-alone, my heart would
have failed me;- in spite of my efforts, my
eyes would have become dim, and my hand
unsteady. Yes; I will confess frankly and
without shame, that terrible roar made me
feel.that man was small indeed in the pre
sence of the lion ; and without a firm will
and that absolute confidence which I deritied
from the inexhaustible Source of all power, I
believe I should have failed in that awful-mo
ment. But this strength enabled me to lis
ten to the tremendous voice of my enemy
without trembling, or even emotion; and to
the end I retained a perfect mastery over the
pulsations of my heal t and a full controlover
my nerves.
When I heard the lion make a last-step, I
moved a little aside ; and no sooner did his
enormous head rise out of the wood, at two
or three yards•distance from' me, and he stop
ped to stare at me with a look of wonder,
that I aimed between the eye and ear, and
slowly pressed the trigger. From the instant
I touched this, - until f heard the 'report of the
gun, ray heart ceased to beat.
After the shot I could see nothing ; but
through the smoke which enveloped the lion
heard the most tremendous, agonizing, and
fearfully protracted roar. My two men
meantime had jumped up, but without
ma
king a step forward, and unable to see any
thing, stood with their guns shouldered, rea
dy to fire. For myself, I whited dagger in
hand,•and one knee on the ground, until the
smoke should disperse, and I could see how
matters stood. As soon as all was clear - I
beheld=first one paw—and heaven's, what a
paw !—then one leg, then a shoulder, then a
head--and, at last, the whole body 'duly eo'-,
emy. He lay on his sidei_and-gave not the
smallest sign of life !
'Take Care, do not appro'ach hiin yet,' cried
Bouaziz, throwing a large stone, which boun- .
ded frOm the lion's corpse !
HE *AS DEAD !
That day_ was the eighth of July, one thou
sand. eight hundred and forty-four.
Independently Of the story of his encoun
ters with lions, Jules Gerard gives the reader
some interesting reading relating to the Arab
tribes, and the mode in which the French civ
ilize their Algerian dependencies. Religious
—deeply religious—as our hero is, - it never
occurs to him that there is anything wrong
in the French possession, 'or right in the na
tive rebellions. He considers the mountain
warfare great honor to the French troops,
and rapturously tells us, It is a grand and
imposing spectacle to see one of our columns
driving away a herd of forty thousand head
of every species of cattle, the fortune of a
whole tribe, with the tents,• baggage and fur
niture.' Whilst • Lion-hunting, as well as
romantic adventures met with, Jules Gerard
heard some romantic tales—one relates to.
SEG/UR AND HIS DIZIDE.
About thirty years ago, a young man; named
Seghir, belonging to the tribe of the Amamera,
established in the Acres mountains fell in
love with a young girl who had been refused
to him by the father on account of his pov
erty. The young people, however, were
much attached 'to each other, and one fine
evening the young girl ran away with her
lover.
The distance being eonsitierable between
the two douars, and the road extremely peril
ous, Seghir had armed himsele - From head to
foot. Already the most damzeidus parts of
the road had been passed, and they were be
ginning to hear the dogs of the douar towards
which they were rapidly' advancing, when
all at once a lion, who till that moment had
lain concealed behind - the bushes, rose and
walked straight towards them.
The'young girl shrieked so fearfully that
she was heard by 'the people in the tents, and
several of the men immediately seized their.
arms and rushed.out to the rescue. When
they reached the spot to which they were
directed by the screams of the young maiden,
they saw the lion walking slowly a few paces
in fron Lof Seghir with his eyes steadily fixed
upon him, anti leading him thus towardS the
forest:
The young - did . all she could to prevent
her lover following the lion,'Or to induce him
to let go his - hold of herself, but in vain : he
kept dragging her on in spite of all her efforts,
sayinc , :
dd Come, my beloved, come, our master will'
have it so, we must go!"
" But our weapons," she cried, " what are
they good for, if not to save me P' '
"Weapons !--f have mine,' answered the
fascinated Wretch. ' Great Lord, believe her
not - she lies ; I am perfectly unarmed,. and
will follow you -wherever'you will !"
At this moment the Arabs, eight or ten in
number, who had come to the rescue of the
unfortunate couple, perceiving that the lion
would very soon draw them into • the forest,
fired every one of them - upon him ; but on
finding that he 'did not fall, they took to their
heels. The lion sprang upon Seghir, and
with - one bound crushed. him to the earth,
smashing his head at a bite; after which he
lay down by the side of 'the young girl, pla
cing hiS huge paws upon her knees.
The Arabs, now finding that the lion did
not condescend to, pursue them, took courage
and returned, and havino• t' reloaded their guns,
prepared again to fire; but being afraid of
killing the girl, they told her to try and get
a little away from the lion, which he allowed
her to do, without, however, losing sight of
her,
The next moment the guns of the Arabs
were leve!lednt•him, the lion sprang into the
midst of them, seized one of them with his
teeth and two otherS with his claws, dragi
ainc, them thus together so as to make, as it
were, one bundle; then placing under him
MAY 28, 1856.
that mass of palpitating flesh, he instantly
smashed the three heads, as he had done that
of Seghir. Those who had escaped ran off
to the dollar, and related what they had wit
nessed, but no one was bold enough to return
for another attack. The lion then seized the
woman and carried her off into the forest.
Next day they came to carry away the
bodies of the four men ; as to the young girl
nothing was found but her hair, her feet, and
her clothes. .
- 'ls it then really true that the lion has the
power of fascinating the weak organization
of certain men to the extent of obliging them
to follow him All I can say is, that every
Arab [ have interrogated on the subject has
answered me in the affirmative, and quoted a
number of examples in support of his asser
tion.
As for myself, I can only say that when
ever I have had the honor to find myself in
the presence of this great monarch, I never
felt the least inclination to follow his royal
steps, though I can quite understand how his
threatening aspect, his kingly majesty, and
the piercing fixedness of his fiery look, should
paralyze the heart and brain of those who
meet him unexpectedly.
•
• Another is
THE MARRIAGE OF smut.
Amonti t' the Arabs, where a high tent' man
marries. he invites a number of people, who
go - and fetch the bride at her parent's house
to her new dwelling, a ceremony which is
performed in a palanquin, numberless huts
being at the same time fired on the road.
Every marriage, however, is not alike. .If
some are accompanied by a numerous retinue;
if; sometimes, the happy, couple number
amongst their guests many a rich and hand
some horseman , at 'other times, as with us,
more than one bridegroom has not even
enough to pay the fiddlers who escort him.—
Such being the case with Smail, who had paid
down the day before his very last shilling, for
his bride's marriage portion, he assembled
only his nearestrelatives, and proceeded with
them on foot to the abode of his future father
in-law.
1 . -laving regaled themselves plentifully with
mutton and couscoussou, and the marriage
being concluded, they fired off a few • cart
ridges by way .of salute, taking care to keep
a few for the journey back. There was no
signing of the marriage contract,- for the very.
simple reason that none of the assistants
knew how to write; and in the evening they
all. parted, ' wishing each other good fortune
and happiness.
The bridegroom's douar was but a league
distant ; the moon shone beautifully bright ;
the bride's escort numbered nine duns; what
was to be feared on the way 1 B7it 'it is not
uri frequently at the very moment one expects
him the least that an intruder will . present
himself.
Smail was walking in front, beside his
bride, to whom he was speaking, in a soft,
low voice, about the happiness which await
ed them under his tent. The friends of the
husband were following discreetly some paces
behind, firing at times a shot in the air; and
the young wife seemed quite gratified. with
this little offering of powder burnt in her
honor. '
But all of a sudden, a jealous individual—
the devil—who had not been invited, and who
delights in mischief, presents himself under
the shape of an enormous lion, stretched
across the very path these happy young folks
were pursuing. '
They were' about half way between the
two douars, and it was fully as dangerous to
go forward as to draw back. What was to
be done?
The opportunity presented to the bride,
groom of winning forever his wife's affec
tions by a noble act of devotedness, was too
good to be lost. Balls were accordingly ram
med down the barrel of every gun, the bride
was placed in the centre of a sort of square
formed by the' assistants, and the escort
marched bravely forward, headed by Smail.
Already they had advanced to within thirty
yards from the lion, who never moved.
Smail now ordered his friends to stop, and
saying to his young wife, 'See now, if you
have married a man," he walked straight up
to the lion, and commanded him to clear the
way.
At twenty paces the lion,.until then crouch
ing and motionless, raised his monstrous
head, and was evidently preparing for a.
spring. Small, regardless of his wife's
screams, and the entreaties of his relatives,
who called to him to retreat, put one knee to
the ground, levelled the barrel of his gun to
wards the animal, took a steady aim and
fired. In an.instant the wounded and furious
animal -bounded forward on the unfortunate
knOcked him to the ground, and - tore
him to shreds in the twinkling of an eye,
then rushed madly towards the square, in the
centre of which stood the wretched bride.
' Let no one fire,' cried Smail's father, ' un
til he touches the barrels of our guns.'
But, added the narrator of this episode,
where is the man sufficiently self-possessed,
to await without flinching that hurricane
called a lion, 'as he rushes on towards his
prey with immense bounds, with mane float
ing in the wind, with expanded jaws, and in
flamed with fury?.
The whole party now fired at once, without
heeding in what direction their balls went,
and the lion dashed on the square, which he
quickly overthrew, smashing the bones and
tearing the flesh of all he found before him.
Some of the men had managed to escape,
dragging after them with much difficulty the
poor bride, - almost dead by this time with
fright, but . they were quickly followed by
their insatiable enemy, and torn to pieces ;
one only, more fortunate than the rest, hav
ing contrived to reach the foot of a steep
rock, upon Which, thanks to his efforts, the
woman also found a refuge.
He had already climbed the rock some little
way, when the lion again advanced, if possi
ble, still more furious, and at one spring
caught the right leg of the man, and dragged
him down with him to the ground; while
the unhappy bride, crawling with hands and
feet to the summit of the rock, was doomed
to witness from her inaccessible retreat the
woful. and hideous spectacle of the death
agony of the last of her defenders.
After two or three useless attempts, the
lion, finding that he could not get at the wo
man; returned to the body of his last victim,
and began tearing it to bits, as if to revenge
himself for the loss of his last living prey,
which was thus eluding his grasp.
The remainder of the night passed away
without any new incident. As soon as the
day began to dawn, the lion left the foot of
the rock, and retired towards the mountains ;
but he wen to ff very slowly, and did not final
ly abandon his post without Stopping more
than once on his road, and - throwing hack a
wishful glance on the prey he was leaving
behind.
A short time after the animal's departure,
a troop of horsemen came across the plain,
and on Small's widow making signals of dis
tress with her veil—for she was now without
strength of voice—they galloped towards her,
and took her back to her father. The poor
thing, expired, however, on the following
clay.
I will spare the reader all the exclamations,
the bad names, and the insults, which were
showered on the devoted head of the lion, nt
the close of this story, the recital of which
lasted far into the night.
Again, we have a good tale told by himself
of the life of an
ARAB ROBBER.
Mohammed-ben-oumbark belonged to a
tolerably rich family, which had been strip
ped of all its property by the chief of that
country, before the French occupation. Af
ter the death of his father he found himself
with no other fortune than a young and pret
ty wife, a tent in very bad condition, and a
beautifully sharp yatagan.
. .
icWith this," said he, showing. it to his bet-
ter half, " I will procure you a fine tent, num
berless flocks, and make you as rich as those
who 'robbed us of our patrimony." And"
without delay he set to work.
The French troops destined for the first ex
pedition to Constantine, were at that time ga
thering at the camp of Mejez-amar ; and as
all the surrounding tribes were as yet unsub
dued, the officers were much at a loss to pro
cure mules. Mohammed-ben-oumbark saw
this, and determined to furnish them.
With that boldness which never forsook
him,- he presented himself at the outposts,
was arrested, and brought before the com
manding officer. There he at once declared
that he belonged to an unsubdued tribe, but
that - he offered his services to the French, and
engaged to furnish them with all they want
ed in the way of saddle horses and beasts of
burden. His apparent-frankness pleased the
officers; his offers were accepted'; and the
very -next day he proved, by the delivery of
a fresh supply, what he was capable of doing
From that day he received regular orders,
exactly as if he had large stables of his own.
They had but to name the age and color of
the horse wanted, and the next day he made
his appearance with the animal.
To answer all these demands, Mohammed
used to practice sometimes on the Arabs,
sometimes on the Kabyles.
The former tie their horses with a rope
fixed to the ground by two pickets, inside or
outside the tents, but oftener outside; and
the way to steal a horse is to get at them un
seen, and to retire in the same way. It may
be conceived that this is not the easiest thing
in the world, especially in a camp peopled by
a number of dogs, ever on the watch but
this was only child's play for our robber.
The trick was still more difficult to perform
with the Kabyles, who live in.houses orgoor
bis, closed with doors end without windows.
The way in which Mohammed precepOed
with the latter was as follows :
With the agility and cunning of a cat, he
ascended to the roof of the house in which
was the beast he wished to secure. After ma
king a sufficiently large aperture he let him
self- down into the only room, to the immi
nent hazard of dropping, like a bad dream, oh
the very stomach of the master of the house.
Once introduced, he felt. about for the fire
place, blew up some half extinguished em
bers, so as to be able to direct his movements,
opened the door, and Marched off with the
animal of his choice.
if one of the inhabitants seemed disposed
to wake up, Mohammed quickly laid close to
him, snoring as if he had really been a mem
ber of the family. If the sleeper fairly open
ed his eyes, oh ! then, woe to him ! the ya
taghan played its part, and closed them for
ayer.
One night, wh;le he was busy blowing up
a brand of half burnt wood in the fireplace of
one of his neighbors, who had the unpardona-.
ble impudence to possess a horse much too
handsome for him, a sound of - voices was
heard outside ; and some one knocked at the
door.--instantly the three or four men who
were in the room jumped up, but whilst they
were hesitating •in the dark and counting
themselves, Mohammed, changing his voice,
said cooly:
"Don't disturb yourselves, I will go and
see who comesthere."
At the same time he opened the door, and
perceiving two horsemen who had already
dismounted—,
;;Be welcome," said he to them, pray walk
in, and I will take charge of your beasts."
The strangers accepted the invitation, and
tha robber, vaulting rapidly ort one of the
horses, and taking the other by the reins,
called out to the proprietor of the house—
.
"I say! such a one! take goad care of your
guests, my boy; and pray tell - them that Mo
hamthed-ben-onmbark has taken charge of
their horses." ~So saying he put spurs to
the horse and vanished.
- Things, however, did not always go on so
smoothly; and dining the course of his stor
my career, my honorable friend has suffered
by fire or by steel more than enough to dam
age irretrieveably the skin of any honest man.
One day I asked him how the lions, which
he must necessarily have met in the night
more than once had behaved to him; be re
plied with enthusiasm—
'The lion is all! man is nothing! The lion
is strong, the lion is courageous; the lion alone
knows how to kill, and to inspire respect and
,
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VOL. ll, NO. 49.
fear! Men," he added, 'should be governed
by a lion.'
Then you never had any occasion to com
plain of him?
' - 'Never!' said Mohammed, 'on the contrary ;
he has very often assisted me in my nocturnal
expeditions, by throwing terror and disordei
among the inhabitants of the douar which
was about to plunder. Whilst he was killing
on one side, 1 was stealing on the other!'
• 'lt is true that whenever I happened id
meet him fasting, and he has invited me to
divide with him, I never refused him. On
one occasion only I found him unreasonable.
It was'on the eve of the Eladkebir. As ev
ery proper Mussleman is • expected to kill a
sheep on that day, I, who am not fond of see
ing my flock diminish, had gone and ballot* -
etrone in a neighboring douar, and was re
turning home with my booty across my shoul
ders, when I met a lion.
lord,' I said to him, 'this time lam
exceedingly sorry for it, but you cannot have
my sheep; I must keep it for to-morrow—the
great feast.'
'The lion, pretending , not to understand,
was becoming more and more pressing; upon
which 1 left the path to take refuge in a cav
ern, which I knew of close at hand, intend
ing to wait there until daybreak, and then
proceed on my way.
'Before entering, the grotto, I looked be
hind me; the lion had disappeared. But
knowing my gentleman too well to believe
that he could be far away, at the end of an
hour I thought I had better take a peer, at
what was going on outside.
I had reached the entrance of the cavern
with great precaution, holding on each side
with both hands, and bending my head cau
tiously forward, when I felt myself violently
caught at the hood of my burnous, and I had
just time enough to disengage my head, not
to be lifted fairly up into the alt. The lion,
in short. who bad laid himself dowr. on the
top of the rock, had stretched out ore of his
huge paws like a cat, and seizing hold of my
burnous, had begun to tear it with his teeth;
giving sign of anger.
In I hurried again, and threw out the sheep
he had set his mind upon, and on which he
darted immediately, without theleast scruple;
more than this, he had the extreme indelicacy
to devour it under my very eyes; and when at
last he thought proper to decamp, with hid
stomach full, and without even condescending
to turn round to say 'thank - you, leaving on
one side the reeking remains of his supper,
and on the other the bits of ray tattered bur
nous, the day was just beginning to dawn.
'He had not left me time enough, the thief!'
to go back to my neighbor to take another
sheep; so that, on returning home, I had to
pick out and kill one of my own flock, as ev ,
ery good Moseelman is bound to do on such
a day. It was the first time; since I became
a man, that I had been driven to such an ex
tremity, and the lion alone could have forced
me to do so.'
Jules Gerard is still Eying, and still in Al
geria, we believe.
The Lost Children.
The dead bodies of the two lost childretic
of Mr. Sam. Cox, of Redford county, which
we mentioned in our paper of week 'before
last, were found on Thursday last, about five'
miies from their parent's residence. This is
the most painful, the most heart-rending inci
dent it has ever been out lot to chronicle.
The dwelling of Mr. Cox is in the edge of
a dense mountain forest, near the line of Bed.
ford and Cambria counties. These poor, hap
less children, boys, one upwards of seven,
and the other a little over five years old, fol
lowed their father, who had gone a gunning,
and penetrating the woods top far, must have
become bewildered, and were linable to re:,
trace their way back.
Hundreds of men, day after day, and night ,
after night, pursued the most, diligent search•
for them, but were unable to find them until
the fifteenth day, .when their young forme_
were discovered side by side, cold in death„
From the time they were lost, nava the day
they were found, the weather was most incle
ment and severe for the season. What scope
of territory they had traversed, or how long
they had suffered, can only be conjectured.
No pen can portray the mental and physi
cal suffering of these poor, lust; wandering
babes. Wildly had they toiled over the rug--
ged mountain crags, crossed streams which
were supposed to be impassable by them,.
till hope had given way to despair,.and worn
out by toil, exposure and starvation —with.
frenzied cries of agony, clasped in the last
embrace of affection, they laid dowo to per
ish in the wilds of the mountain, out of hearing
of the acute listening ears, and out of reach
of the noble hearts and. strong arms which
vainly sought to succor them, Oh I terrible
indeeed, must have been the hours of anguish
of these two innocent yoong hearts, while
for days and nights, alone in the deep gloomy
recesses of the wilderness, the cold howling
blasts smote fearfully upon their. panic strict?.
en ears, and the .6.eace driven rain poured
ruthlessly upon their tender, unprotectecr
frames.
And who can realize the•agony the Intense
anguish which must have lacerated- the hearts
of the parents during their terrible suspense.
Fearing for the safety of their innocents, yet-
trusting in their deliverance, till time had
abandoned all hope of their rescue ;. then the
moat fearful tortures of anguish, the extre,
mast sorrow must have filled• their souls,
The mental agonies, the tortures- which .
wrung the breasts of the stricken parents, in
their severe trial, should have aroused ttfa-"
sympathy of the coldest heart,but appeanif'
their cup of bitterness was p 0 ys,t lull, 'for
before the recovery of the children, a bean : .
less wretch, in whose bosom there
flow one drop of the milk of humans kind.
mess, with the effrontery and bitterness, of p,
demon, charged the father wish havitto.mur,.•
dered his children. This /Oman monster, .
so destitute of every manly attribute, so void
of every coble impulse, suld have beep by
some manly arm smitten his tracks.
We are pained—our heart sicens to an
nounce the prevalent rumor, that tilt stroke
was too severe for the unhappy mother. 31:0;#
is now bereft of reason—a raving maniac,.
El