6
THE SONG OF THE HOE.
(Written tn a Potato Patch.)
"Chug, chug, bring us the Jug,
Master is dry with toll;
Many a sultry hour he's dug,
Coaxing the sullen soil:
But his brow must sweat and his arms
grow weary.
All for the love of his tots and dearie;
And hie dreams are swift it his step be
slow."
This was the hum of the weary hoe,
A!i of a summer's day.
■"Chuglty, chug, chugity, chink!
How that was the sound of a stone, I think ;
Hut there's many a stone on which to
catch
In life's half-acre potato-patch;
<!hugity, chinkety, one more row."
This was the merry lilt of the hot.
All of a sultry day.
"Chug, swish; Oh how I wish
That the sun would tumble faster;
For I almost crack with the weight on my
back
Of the hand of my sturdy master!
But ah! he has measured the length of my
. shade.
He Is cleaning the clay from my ringing
blade,
Ar.d now for the cottage that we well
know."
This was the cry of the happy hoe,
Under the fading day.
"Chug, chink, the calm stars blink;
Night hath many charms;
Master Is dreaming of me, I think,
Wrapped in his fond wife's arms:
And a wee, pink hand is clutching tight
The tin horse bought with our toll to-night;
"Tis the weaker arm that makes me go."
This was the droning dream of the hoe.
Until the east was gray.
—John Q. Neihardt, In Youth's Companion.
(Copyright, 1897, by F Tennyson Neely.]
CHAPTER XVII. —Continued.
"You're right. Look!" was Dean's
sudden answer, for at the very in
stant there rode boldly, calmly into
lull view two young Indians, who
with cool deliberation came jogging
on at gentle speed, straight toward
the concealed bivouac of the troopers.
Instantly Bruce reached for his car
bine, and two or three of the men
went sliding or crouching backward
down the slope as though in quest of
their arms. Full eight hundred yards
away were the riders at the moment,
coming side by side in apparent un
concern.
"Don't," muttered Dean, with hand
outstretched. "They look anything
but hostile."
"That's when they're most likely to
be full of hell, sir," was the prompt
answer. "See! others are watching
behind that knoll," and indeed as
Bruce declared, a feather-decked head
or two could be detected through the
glass, peering over the summit.
"Warn them to halt, then," cried
Dean. "But we cannot fire unless
they provoke it."
Bruce was on his feet in a second,
Standing erect and facing straight to
ward the coming pair, he raised his
right hand, palm to the front, to the
full length of his arm, and slowly mo
tioned "stand." Every plainsman
knows the signal. In well-acted sur
prise the Indians reined their ponies
-flat back, and, shading their eyes with
their hands a moment, remained mo
tionless. Then as with one accord,
each tossed aside his rifle, and one of
them further lifted high and displayed
a revolver. This, too, he tossed out
on the turf, and now with both arms
bare and extended on high, with
empty hands outspread, they slowly
advanced as though saying: "See, we
are without arms. We come as broth
ers."
But the sergeant never hesitated.
Almost on tiptoe he repeated the sig
nal "halt," and half turned implor
ingly to his officer.
"It's all a bluff, sir. They want to
•erawl upon us, see who and how many
we are. Let some of us fire warning
ahots or come they will, and the mo
ment they find out who we are, away
they'll ride to bring Ked Cloud and all
bis bucks about our ears."
"I cannot fire," was the answer.
"That's their flag of truce and we must
not ignoreit. Let them come, sergeant;
I'll meet them."
CHAPTER XVIII.
Remonstrance on pact of his men
would have been a violation of their
rules of order. Obedient to the lieuten
ant's instructions, Sergt. Bruce, with
evident reluctance, lowered his hand.
Whoever these Indians were they well
understood the principles that gov
erned civilized warfare. They well
knew that the white soldiers would re
spect a flag of truce, though in their
own vernacular they referred to the
sacred emblem only as a "fool flag,"
and sometimes used it, as did the Mo
docs five years later, to lure officers
Into ambush and deliberately murder
them. They knew the white soldiers
would take no advantage of foemen
gathered for conference or parley, and
thus far the Sioux themselves had ob
served the custom which the Modocs
basely violated when in cold blood they
slaughtered Gen. Canby and the peace
.commissioners sent to treat with them,
Confidently, therefore, came the two
young warriors, but as Dean raised
himself from the ground and was
about to step forward the sergeant
ispoke:
"Beg pardon, sir, but these fellows
Htnow all our officers. They would rec
ognise you at once. The word would
|o to Red G'oud faster than any pony
eoukl gallop. Let me meet them, or
let one of the men."
The ponies were coming at a lope
.now, and not. an instant was to be lost.
The safety of his command might pos
sibly depend on their not being recog-
Aized as of the trooyj before whose
carbines Chaska, brother to Lizette,
hart met his death.
"Perhaps you're right," said Dean.
"Halt them again. Conroy, you go
with Sergt. Bruce."
Eagerly a young trooper, carbine in
hand, sprang up and stood by the ser
geant's side as the latter repeated his
warning signal. Obediently, yet not
too promptly, showing evident desire
to get where they could peer over the
ravine and count the number of white
men and horses, the Indians again
drew rein, this time barely 100 yards
away. Then Bruce and Conroy, hold
ing up their emptied hands, strode for
ward along the grassy slope, making
the further sign: "Dismount."
In those days few of our cavalry
wore, when on Indian campaign, the
forage-cap with its crossed sabers
and distinguishing letters. Nothing in
the dress or accoutrements of the men
thus advancing to meet the Indian
emissaries would give to the latter any
clew as to the troop or regiment to
which they belonged. Could they see
the horses, however, the tdat-ter would
be settled at once. The U. S. brand,
with that of the number of the regi
ment and letter of the troop, showed on
every cavalry mount in the service,
and the Ogallallas knew the ear-marks
of two, at least, of our cavalry regi
ments in '6B as well as they did the cut
of their own hair. But in the modesty
of the non-commissioned officer Bruce
had underrated his own prominence in
Indian eyes. Not only did these keen
observers know every officer by sight,
and have for him some distinguishing
name of their own, but many a trooper,
easily singled out from his fellows be
cause of his stature, or the color of his
hair, or some physical peculiarity, was
as well known as his captain or lieuten
ant, and Bruce, ex-trooper of the
Scots greys, and now a model sergeant
of Yankee cavalry, was already a
marked man in the eyes of the south
ern Sioux. Brule, Minneconjou and
Ognllalla knew him well his aquiline
beak, to which the men would some
times slyly allude, having won him the
Indian appellative of tfosli Kopee or
Big Nose.
Before the two parties came with
in fifty yards of each other, therefore,
watchers along the ravine saw the
quick exchange of significant glances
between the young braves. "Twig
that?" whispered Trooper Blaine, in
low, emphatic tone. "Those fellows
know 'Scotty' just as well as we
do."
All the same, leaving their trained
ponies to nibble at the scanty bunch
grass, the two came straight forward
with extended hands and cordial
"How, colah!" on their lips, one of
them adding in agency English:
"Want talK chief. Indian poor. Heap
sick." (And here he clasped his stom
ach with both hands.) "Want coffee,
sugar, bread."
"All right," said Bruce promptly,
noting the while how the roving
black eyes searched the edge of the
la well acted surprise the Indians reined their
ponies.
ravine. "Stay here. Don't come
nearer. You got buffalo meat?"
A grunt was the reply of one, a
guttural "Buffalo, yes," the answer of
the other.
"Bring tongues, then," and Bruce
touched his own. "Five," and he threw
forward the outspread right hand,
rapidly touching in succession the
thumb and four fingers. "We give both
hands full—coffee, sugar, hardtack,"
and Bruce illustrated as he spoke.
"That's all!" he finished abruptly,
with the well-known Indian sign that
plainly tells "I have spoken—there is
nothing more to say," then calmly
turned his back, and, bidding Conroy
follow, started to return to his com
rades at the ravine.
But Indian diplomacy was unsatis
fied. The Sioux had found "Big Nose"
to be one of the soldiers in the field.
He, at least, was of the hated troop
that fought and chased Burning Star
and killed Chaska. The trail told
them there were nearly a dozen in the
party, all or. shod horses, with two in
lead—spare mounts or pack-horses,
doubtless—so they had extra rations
and had come far; but why were
they going this way, so far west of
the usual road to the Big Horn posts?
Why were they so few in number?
Where were the rest? Why were they
hidng here in the ravine, instead of
marching? Answer to this last ques
tion was easy enough. It was to
keep out of sight of Indian eyes, and
needed no excuse. There was some
thing behind this mysterious pres
ence of ten or twelve soldiers ir the
southern foot-hills, and Machp«.alota
woidd expect of his scouts full in
formation, hence the instant move
ment on part of one of the two braves
to follow.
Impressively, Bruce turned again
and waved him back. "Go, get buf
falo tongue," said he, "or no trade.
Keep away from our tepees," and he
drew with his spurred boot-h.eel a
jagged line across the turf. "Your
side," said h«, indicating the slope to
the southeast of the line. "This—
CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, MARCH 7, 1901.
ours. That's all!" And this time the
Indian knew he must come no nearer.
"I've got 'em talking trade, lieu
tenant," reported Bruce, the instant he
reached Dean's side. "We don't need
the tongues, but we've got more cof
fee and sugar than we are apt to
want, and at least we can keep them
interested until dark, when we can
clip away. Of course, they've sent
word to their main body that we're
over here, but I believe they can't
come in force before night."
"They knew you, sergeant, and they
knew it ig probably our troop," said
he. "There must be only a small par
ty near us. Make your trade, but
while you're doing it we'll saddle. I
mean to get out of this and into the
thick of the timber before they can
surround us. Stand 'em off now, while
we get ready."
Promises must be kept when made
to an Indian, even if they are otherwise
sometimes broken. In ten minutes,
with coffee, sugar and hardtack in their
hands, the sergeant and his comrades
were back at the front. One brave
was still there, the other had vanished.
Five minutes, neither party saying a
word, the troopers waited; then liruce
turned to Conroy. "I knew they had
nothing to trade. Take this sack with
you and fall back. Tell our fellows
to keep me well covered till I follow."
The instant the soldier started with the
sack over his shoulder, the In
dian, who had been squatted on the
turf, sprang up and began rapid ex
postulation in lluent Ogallalla. "It's
no use, young man," interposed Bruce.
"Your chum there has no buffalo
tongues, and he knew it. Here's some
hardtack for you," and he spread one
liberally with sugar and handed it to
the ever-receptive paw, outstretched
to grasp it. A glance over the shoulder
showed that Conroy was nearly at the
edge. Then, quietly, Bruce, too, be
gan to retire. He had not got ten
paces, still facing his unwelcome vis
itor, when the Indian gave a shrill,
sudden cry and tossed up his hands.
Not a second too soon Bruce turned
and darted for cover. The Indian flung
himself flat on the turf and rolled away
into a depression where he could find
partial shelter from bullets from the
ravine, whence he evidently looked for
them, and out from behind the knoll,
bridles held high, "quirts" lashing
at their ponies' flanks, darted half a
dozen painted savages, tearing down
upon the spot at the top speed of their
agile mounts. Only two men remained
on watch at the moment. Dean and one
trooper. Most of the others, already
in saddle, were filing away up the game
trail that threaded the windings of the
ravine, the two lead horses with them,
while a few yards behind the young
officer and his comrade, halfway down
the reverse slope, two others, afoot,
handled the reins of their own horse*
and those of the lieutenant and men
still held at the edge. It was an excit
ing moment. Bruce had only a hun
dred yards to run before he could get
under cover, and there was no chance
of their hitting him at that range, yet
a puff of smoke rose from the knoll
and a bullet, nearly spent, came tum
bling and singing up the turf, and the
dashing warriors, yelling wildly, ap
plauded the shot. Bruce took matters
coolly. Leaping behind the shelter of
the ledge, he reached for his carbine,
and in a moment more, as the pursuing
Indians came lashing within long
range, four seasoned cavalry carbines,
each with a keen eye at the sight and
a steady finger at the trip, were leveled
on the coming foe. Dean's young heart
beat hard, it must be owned, for hith
erto the Indians had been fighting in
retreat or on the defensive, while now
they came as though confident of suc
cess; but there was soldier exultation
and something like savage joy mingling
with the thrill of excitement.
"There's more behind those beggars,
sir," growled Conroy, a veteran at In
dian work, "but they'll sheer off when
they get within 300 yai-ds." On they
came, shields and lances dangling,
ponies on the keen jump, feathers and
pennons streaming on the wind. But,
just as Conroy said, no sooner was
Bruce safely under cover and they felt
themselves drawing within dangerous
range than, fan-like, they opened out
to right and left, and, yelling still like
fiends, veered in wide circle from their
line of attack, and ducking over their
ponies' shoulders, clinging with one
leg to the upright part of the cantle,
they seemed to invite the fire of their
white foe—and got it. A daring fellow
in the lead came streaking slantwise
across the front, as though aiming to
pick up the comrade lurking in the
dip of the prairie-like slope, and Con
roy's carbine was the first to bark, fol
lowed almost instantly by Dean's. The
scurrying pony threw up his wall-eyed
head and lashed with his feathered tail,
evidently hit, but not checked, for un
der the whip he rushed gamely on un
til another bullet, whistling within a
foot of his neck, warned the red rider
that he was far too close for safety,
for with halting gait the pony turned
and labored off the field, and presently
was seen to be staggering. "Score one
for our side," laughed the Irishman,
in glee. "Now's your time, sergeant."
But Bruce, reloading, was gazing
sternly at the distant knoll. The other
warriors, riding right and left, were
now chasing crosswise over t he billowy
slopes, keeping up a fire of taunt and
chaff and shrill war cries, but never
again venturing within 300 yards—
never wasting a shot.
"I thought so," suddenly cried the
sergeant. "They're signaling from the
knoll, They never would have attacked
with so few, unless there were dozens
more within sight. Now's our time,
lieutenant. We can mount and ride
like hell to the timber—l beg your par
don, sir," he broke off, suddenly. "I
didn't mean to say what the lieutenant
should do."
"No apologies," laughed Dean, his
eyes snapping with the vim of the fight.
'"Gla'i you see the truth of what 1 said.
Come on. Mount quickly, men."
Two uiinutes more and the entire
party of bluecoats were spurring swift
ly northward up the winding porgt,
the pack horses lumbering- alongside.
Eagerly Dean and Bruce in the lead
looked right and left for a game trail
leading up the slope, for well they
knew that the moment their reeuforce
ments came the warriors would dash
into the ravine and, finding their an
tagonists fled, would pursue along th«
banks. It would never do to be caught
in such a trap. A gallop of a quarter
of a mile and, off to the right, a branch
ravine opened out to higher ground,
and into this the leaders dove and,
checking speed, rode at the trot until
the ascent grew steep. Five minutes
more and they were well up toward
the head of the gulch and presently
found themselves nearly on a level with
the hillsides about them. Here, too,
were scattered pine trees and a few
scrub oak. The timber, then, was close
at hand. Signaling halt to the climb
ing column, Dean and liruce, spring
ing from saddle, scrambled up the bank
to their right and peered cautiously
back down over the tumbling waves of
the foothills, and what they saw was
enough to blanch the cheek of even
veteran Indian fighters.
Far over to the east, bej-ond an in
tervening ridge and under the dun
cloud of dust, the earth was black for
miles with herds of running buffalo.
Far down to the southeast, here, there
and everywhere over the land, the
slopes were dotted with little knots of
Indian braves—they could be nothing
e ' se —"11 riding like mad, coming
straight toward them. Machpealota
probably had launched his whole fore*
on the trail of the luckless troopers.
[To Be Continued.]
STORY OF AFRICAN LOVE.
A Kaffir Mnlilen AVho Considered
Herself Worth More Thun
Ten Cons.
An amusing incident is quoted by
H. T. Finck, in a recent volume on
primitive «nd curious customs, which
indicates how easily utilitarian con
siderations may gain the supremacy
among Africans.
A traveler knew a girl named Yan
niki, who refused to marry a young
Kaftir suitor, although she confessed
that she liked him.
"I cannot take him," she said, "as
he can offer only ten cows for me,
and mj r father wants 15."
The traveler observed that it was
not kind of her father to let a few
cows stand in the way of her hap
piness; but the African damsel did
not fall in with his sentimental views
in the case. Business and vanity were
to her much more important matters
than individual preference, and she
exclaimed, excitedly:
"What! You expect my father to
give me away for ten cows? That
would be a fine sort of a bargain!
Am I not worth more than Cilli, for
whom the Tambuki chief paid 12
cows last week? I atn pretty, I can
cook, sew, crochet, speak English, and
with all these accomplishments you
want my father to dispose of me
for ten miserable cows? Oh, sir, how
little you esteem me! No, no, my
father is quite right in refusing to
yield in this matter. Indeed, in my
opinion, he might boldly ask 30 cows
for me, for I am worth that much."
Retort Courteous,
A recent English visitor to India
relates the following incident of trav
el to show the character of the inter
course between the English and the
resident population of that country.
The Parsees have been scarcely longer
in the peninsula than have the Eng
lish. They are the ancient fire wor
shippers of the east.
"Another Englishman and I were
on the night train, and we were the
sole occupants of the compartment.
It was near midnight and we were
stretched on our respective couches,
when our slumbers were disturbed
by the entrance of a family of four
or five Parsees, among whom were a
lady and a child and an old gentle
man of somewhat feeble but refined
appearance. Of course, although we
were not disturbed, there was a lit
tle conversation and discussion while
couches were being prepared and
berths let down, and so forth, till at
last my fellow countryman, losing his
little store of patience, rolled over
among his rugs with a growl: 'I
wish you would stop that chattering,
you IVirsees!' To which remark, when
they had settled themselves a little,
one of the men replied: 'Please goto
sleep now, Mr. Gentleman.' " —Youth's
Companion.
Prince Albert's Cournsre.
Lord Playfair was one of the most
honored and conspicuous figures in
Great Britain during the last half
century. When he was in the Univer
sity of Edinburgh the prince of Wales
was one of his pupils. One day the
two were standing near a cauldron
containing lead, which was boiling at
white heat. "Has your royal highness
any faith in science?" asked Playfair.
"Certainly," was the prompt reply.
Playfair then carefully washed the
prince's hand in ammonia to get rid
o" any grease on.it, and then said:
"Will you now place your hand in
this boiling metal and ladle out a por
tion of it?" "Do you tell me to do
this?" asked the prince. "I do," was
the answer. The prince instantly put
his hand into the cauldron and ladled
out some of the boiling lead without
sustaining any injury. Nowadays the
feat is frequently performed, but in
those days it was a novelty, which
makes the courage and confidence of
Albert Edward equally remarkable.
—Golden Days.
Shrewd lienor «»<*<••
When srewd ignorance resorts to
questionable methods the confiding
public has to pay the freight.—Chi
cago Daily News.
He Is n Fool.
He is a fool who thinks that others
do not thiuk.—Chicago Daily |
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Sal M 1° kiuils, »urp to delight ai.il pl' tse n9l
JPFF BV E illustrated Plant and B**d Catalog, telling all
H Bfl ■ about Billion Dollar Grin, Peaoat, Teoiinte.
K H br-'inus. Speltc, Onion Seed at 60c., etc . all
B £ for 1« eenta atampaondthla notice.
Catalog positively T. rih fIOO to anj
Uitfl IYYVai P lEnter °' S* r d e n and farm aeeda.
•(((/( J, ) JOHN A. SALZER SEED CO.
'-A c L a Crosse, Wla. ■
To-Day'H Doiaert.
In making it ready Burnham's Hasty
Jellycon will be highly appreciated; nothing
to do but dissolve it in hot water and set
away to cool. The flavors are: orange,
lemon, strawberry, raspberry, peach, wild
cherry and unfavored "calfsfoot" for
making wine and coffee jellies. Get a
package to-day at your grpcer's.
Van Btiren's Rtaan
kin |q mn llwirl matin Compound la
Hllil I the only positive euro. I'ast.ex
£■ K H I I perlenceniKiaks lorit.self. Denot
I ft ~K£B Wr " i{ Ave., Chicago,
PATENTS
EXPERT SERVICE. CHARGES MODERATE.
D. W. GOULD, LL. M.,
Atlantic Builrtitio WASHINGTON. D C.
DF?OPSY NET ! r WS'OVERri vive«
U» 1% 1 W E quick relief and eui •-« worst
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