6 THE OLD HOME CREIiK. tf I could have my way Voc bet I d have, by ging! Things tixt-U so ev'ry holiday Would come around In Spring! I'd like to simply bunch 'em up. All of 'em In one week. An' go and spend 'em fishin' Down along the old home creek! To cut an alder limb, A springy one and long, An' Kit a woven seagrass line, A long an' thin an' strong, Ar.' ketch me some grasshoppers. Or some blue bottle Hies, An" cast along the ol' home crcuk Where hemlock shudders lies. Oh, 11 • :31 t< r fix 'em up, My holidays, you know. So t 1 -\ 'utj bun< h 'an till my cup Till it would ov> rflow. I'or all the re.-; the long, long year I'd mak" my Sundays do. Give me r.;y holiaays In spring When buds are bu'stln' thoo. I want, to trot away Uiiwn thoo the orchard grass. An' hear tli sti.-sy bluejays squall An' mock th« catbird's sass; An' whistle like a mocktn' bird An' mock the tlnklln' brook An' jest t bubHii. full o' scngf The while I halt my hook. —.l M Lt 'a - i, In Houston I'ost. | A Daughter ] of the Sioux J By GEN. CHARLES KING. i Couyrife'Ut, 1902, 0/ The Ilobart Company* CHAPTER XX. in the hush of the wintry night, under a leaden sky, with snowtlakes falling thick and fast and mantling t he hills in fleecy white, Webb's col umn had halted among the sturdy the men exchanging muttered, low-toned query and comment, the horses standing with bowed heads, occasionally pawing the soft cover let, and sniffing curiously at this filin ly barrier to the bunch grass tliey sought in vain. They had feasted together, these comrade troopers ami chargers ere the sun went down —the men on abundant rations of agency bacon, flour and brown sugar, found with black tailed deer and mountain sheep in abundance in the •captured village, and eked out by supplies from the pack train—the horses on big "blankets" of oats set before them by sympathetic friends and masters. Then when the skies were fairly dark, Webb had ordered little fires lighted all along the bank of the stream, leaving the men of Kay's and Billings* troops to keep them blading through the long night •watches to create the impression Among the lurking Sioux that the ■whole force was still there, guard ing the big village it had captured in the early afternoon, anil then, in silence, the troopers had saddled and Jogged away into the heart of the hills, close on the heels of their guides. There had been little time to look ■over the captures. The main interest of both otliccrs and men, of course, centered in Mr. Hay, who was found in one of the tepees, prostrate frmn illness and half frantic frmn fever and strong mental excitement. He liad later tidings from Frayne, it seems, than had his rescuers. He could assure them of the health and safety of their wives and little ones, but would not tell them what was amiss in his own household. One significant question he asked: Did any of them know this new Maj. Flint? No? Well, God help Flint, if ever he, Hay got hold of him. "He's delirious," whispered Webb, and rode away in that conviction, leaving him to Bay and Billings. Three miles out, on the tortuous trail of the pursued, the column halted and dismounted among the pines. 1 lien there was a brief confer ence, and the word "Mount" was whispered along the Beecher squad- Ton, while Blake's men stood fast. With a parting clasp of the hand Webb and "Legs" had returned to the head of their respective com mands, "Legs" and his fellows to follow steadily the Indian trail through the twisting ravines of the foothilis; Webb to make an all night forced march, in wide detour and determined effort, to head off the •escaping warriors before they could reach the rocky fastnesses back of Bear Cliff. Webb's chief scout "Bat," chosen by Gen. Crook himself, had &>een a captive among the Sioux through long years of his boyhood, and knew the Big Horn Bange as Webb did the banks of the Wabash. "They can stand off a thousand sol diers,-' said the guide, "if once they get, into the rocks. They'd have gone there first, off only there was no water. Now there's plenty snow." So Blake's instructions were to fol low them without pushing, to let them feel they were being pursued, yet by no -means to hasten ♦hem, and, if the general's favorite scout proved to be all lie promised as guide and pathfinder, Webb might reasonably liope bv dint of hard night riding, to tie first at i,ne tryst at break of day. Then they would have the retreating Sioux, hampered by their few wound ed and certain prisoners whom they prized. hemmed between rocky heights on every side, anil sturdy horsemen front and rear. It was eight by the watch at the parting of the ways. It was B:."!i.' wliea Blake retook the trail, with Sergeants Sehrelber and Winsor, the ! latter borrowed from Hay, far in the van. Kvrn had the ground been hard and stony these keen-eyed soldier scouts could have followed the signs almost as unerringly as ihe Indians, for each had had long years of ex perience all over the west; but, de spite the steadily falling' snow, the | traces of hoofs and, for a time, rt j travois poles could be readily seen and followed in the dim gray light of I the blartketed skies. Somewhere aloft, above the film of cloud, the sil very moon was shining, and that was illumination more than enough for men of their years on the trail. l'or over an hour, Blake followed the winding's of a ravine that grew closer and steeper as it burrowed into the hills. Old game trails are as good as turnpikes in the eyes of the plainsman. It was when the ravine began to split into branches that the problem might have puzzled them, had not the white fleece lain two inches deep 011 the level when "Lo" made his dash to escape. Xow the rough edges of the original impres sion were merely rounded over by the new fallen snow. The hollows and ruts and depressions led 011 from one deep cleft into another, and by midnight. Blake felt sure the quarry could be but a few miles ahead and Hear Cliff barely five hours inarch away. So, noiselessly, the signal "Ilalt!" went rearward down the long, dark, sinuous column "112 twos, and every man slipped out of saddle, some of them stamping, so numb were their feet. With every mile the air had grown keener and colder. They were glad when the next word whispered was, "Lead on!" instead of "Mount." By this time they were far up among the pine-fringed heights, with the broad valley of the Hig Horn lying outspread to the west, invisible as the stars above, and neither by ringing shot nor winged arrow had the leaders known the faintest check. It seemed as though the Indians, in their desperate effort to carry off the most important or val ued of their charges, were bending all their energies to expediting the retreat. Time enough to turn on the pursuers when once the rocks had closed about them-—when the wound ed were safe in the fastnesses and the pursuers far from supports. But at the foot of a steep ascent, the two leading scouts —rival sergeants of rival troops, but devoted friends for nearly twenty years—were seen by the next in column, a single corporal followed them at thirty yards dis tance, to halt and begin poking at 1,1 \ :*&&& 'V - ' j r ■" ~ 1 1 I —J — —' . - — ' .LJ "IIK FOUND SCHREIBKR CROUCH ING AT THE FOOT OF A TREE GAZ ING WARILY FORWARD." some dark objeet by the wayside. Then they pushed 011 again. A dead pony, under a quarter inch coverlet of snow was what met the eyes of the silently trudging command as it followed. The higli-peaked wooden saddle tree was still '"cinched" to the stiffening carcass. Either the In dians were pushed for time or over stocked with saddlery. Presently there came a low whistle from the military "middleman" between the scouts and a little advance guard. "Hun ahead," growled the sergeant commanding to bis boy trumpeter. "Gi\e me your reins." And, leaving his horse, the youngster stumbled along up the winding trail; got his message and waited. "Give this to the captain," was the word sent back by Sehreiher. and"this" was a mitten of Indian tanned buckskin, soft and warm, if unsightly, a mitten too small for a warrior's hand, if ever warri' r deigned to wear one—-a mit ten the captain examined curiously, as he ploughed ahead of his main body, and then turned to his subal tern with a grin on his face: "Beauty draws us with a single hair," said lie, "and can't shake us even when she gives us the mitten, lloss," lie added, after a moment's thought, "remember this. With this gang there are two or three sub chiefs that we should get, alive or dead, but the chief end of man, so far as "K" Troop's concerned, is to capture that g'irl, unharmed." And just at dawn, so gray and wan and pallid it could hardly be told from the pale moonlight of the ear | Her hours, the dark, snake-like col . 1111111 was halted again, nine miles ' further in among the wooded heights. With Bear Cliff still out of range and I sight., something had stopped the • scouts, and lilake was needed at the front, fie found Schrej.bel* crouching at the fo.it of a tree, gazing warily forward along a southward-sloping race of the mountain that was •■•parsely covered with tall, straight pines, and that faded into mist a few hundred yards away. The trail—the main trail, that is—seemed togo straight away eastward, and, for a CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY. OCTOBER 22. 1903 short distance, downward through a hollow or depression; while, up the mountain side to the left, the north, following the spur or shoulder, there were signs of hoof tracks, half sheet ed by the new-fallen snow, and through this fresh, fleecy mantlet ploughed tin? trooper boots in rude, insistent pursuit. The sergeant's horses were held by a third soldier a few yards back behind the spur, for Winsor was "side scouting" up the heights. The snowfall had ceased for a time. The light, was growing broader every moment, and presently a soft whistle sounded somewhere up the steep, and Schreiber answered. "He wants us, sir," was all he said, and in five min utes they had found him, sprawled on his stomach on a projecting ledge, and pointing southeastward, where, boldly outlined against the gray of the morning sky, a black and beetling precipice towered from the mist wreathed pines at its base. Bear Cliff beyond a doubt! "How far, sergeant?" asked the captain, never too reliant on his pow ers of judging distance. "Five miles, sir, at least; yet some three or four Indians have turned off here and gone—somewhere up there." And, rolling half over, Winsor pointed again toward a wooded bluff, perhaps :HM) feet higher and half a mile away. "That's probably the best lookout this side of the cliff itself!" he con tinued, in explanation, as he saw the puzzled look on the captain's face. "From there, likely, they can see the trail over the divide—the one Lit tle Bat is leading the major, and, if they've made any time at all, the squadron should be at Bear Cliff now." They were crawling to him by this time, Blake and Schreiber, among the stunted cedars that grew thickly along the rocky ledge. Winsor, fiat again on his stomach, sprawled like a squirrel close to the brink. Every moment as the skies grew brighter the panorama before them became more extensive, a glorious sweep of highland scenery, of boldly tossing ridges east and south and west—the slopes all mantled, the trees all tipped, with nature's ermine, and studded now with myriad gems, tak ing fire at the first touch of the day god's messenger, as the mighty king himself burst his halo of circling cloud and came peering over the. low curtain far at the eastward horizon. Chill and darkness and shrouding va por vanished all in a breath as lie rose, dominant over countless leagues of wild, unbroken, yet magnificent mountain landscape. "Worth every hour of watch and mile of climb!" muttered Blake. "But it's Indians, not scenery, we're after. What are we here for, Winsor?" and narrowly he eyed Bay's famous right bower. "If tlie major got there first, sir— and 1 believe he did—they have to send the prisoners and wounded buck this way." "Then we've got 'em!" broke in Schreiber, low-toned, but exultant. "Look, sir," he added, as he pointed along the range. "They are signaling now." From I)ie wooded height 1.000 yards away, curious little puffs of smoke, one following another, were sailing straight for the zenith, and Blake, screwing his field glasses to the fo cus, swept with them the mountain side toward the five-mile distant cliIV, and presently the muscles about his mouth began to twitch—sure sign with Blake of gathering excitement. "You're right, sergeant," he pres ently spoke, repressing the desire to shout, and striving, lest Winsor should be moved to invidious compari sons, to scrim as nonehalent, as Billy Bay himself. "They're coming back already." Then down the mountain side lie dove to plan and prepare ap propriate welcome, leaving Winsor ami the glasses to keep double-pow ered watch on the situation. Six-fifty of a glorious, keen Novem ber morning, and 60 troopers of the old regiment were distributed along a spur that crossed, almost at right angles, the. line of the Indian trail. Sixty fur-cupped, rough-coated fel lows, with their short brown carbines in hand, crouching behind rocks and fallen trees, keeping close to cover and warned to utter silence. Behind them, 200 yards away, their horses were huddled under charge of their disgusted guards, envious of their fel lows at the front, and cursing hard their luck in counting off as number four. Schreiber had just come slid ing, stumbling down from Winsor's porch to say that they could hear faint sound of sharp volleying far out to the eastward, where the warriors, evidently, were trying to "stand off" Webb's skirmish line until the travois with the wounded and the escort of the possible prisoners should succeed in getting back out of harm's way and taking surer and higher trail into the thick of the wilderness back of Bear Cliff. "Some of 'em must come in sight here in a minute, sir," panted flic veteran sergeant. "We could see them plainly up there —a mule litter anil four travois, and there must be a dozen in saddle." A dozen there were, for along the line of crouching men went sudden thrill of excitement. Shoulders be gan to heave; nervous thumbs bore down on the heavy carbine hammers, and there was sound of irrepressible stir and murmur. (Jut- among the pines, 500 yards away two mounted Indians popped suddenly into view, two others speedily followed, their well-nigh exhausted ponies feebly shaking their shaggy, protesting heads as their riders plied the sting ing quirt or jabbed with cruel lance; | inly in a painful jog trot could they j /.ig zag through the trees. Then j came two warriors, lending the pony of a crippled comrade. "Don't fire— don't harm them! Fall back from the ' trail there and let them in. They'll halt the moment they