The sunny South. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1875-1907, March 16, 1878, Image 1

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

w mum. A liiOoKAcd Iron steed* are hers, More Sect than hart or hind ; Tbeir tramp the mountain echo wire, Their breath is on the-wind, laden with stores from Labor's hand, And treasnres from Pacific’s strand. Her iron slaves rash through the land. And commerce sends her vasseis forth, Ships winged by steam or sail. And tar o'er seas of 8oothand North, Our flag floats on the gale. Aye, shore and ocean loudly vannt That wealth is not our country’s want. She needs not beauty : lips and eye* L’nfbid beneath her sky, Might tempt a saint of Paradise To one voluptuous sigh. And high, white bosoms—pleasure rife— Heave with the joy of love and life. Aad nature far and wide has flung Her beauty o'er the land, And cliffs by mighty woods o’erhung, And rivers broad and grand. And lone, blue lakes and mountains bc,d In song and story have been told. Nor wants she genius ; in her bowers Kach muse eecurflv^lld ey guiher flowers, On her fair plains tb ■P 1 - - And laurels on her hills. The world will own our land ere long. The Attica of wit and song. What needs she, then—this land of otre, So rich in wit and wealth. With grace and beauty for her dower. Hearts strong with youth and health, Her path winds up to ’’perfect day.” What lion cronches in her way ? Hie ship that rides the stormy sea, When clouds the heavens o’ershade, May strong in ropes and timbers be; V et. If there be not laid A steady hand upon her helm The waves will the strong bark o'er whelm. Our country needs this steady hand To guide her ship of State, She needs a spirit to command— One calmly good and great— (*ue firm and true, to whom is known •Ve inter*Hie but his eotmtrv * r~~ THE LOST CHILD; -OR,- The Wolf-Woman. I { repeated he, as it striving to drink in the foil | meaning of the words. ‘ Yes, yes. Let go your hold. I must—I will I follow my child !’ But not more than a child was he, in the hands of the trapper and Buffalo Hoof. They ■ forced him behind a pile of rocks, so as to be j 0Dt the way of the arrows of the Indians, who A Terrible Situation. ‘Wal, here yer see the print of three long ones and one short one and the thumb. Poor fel ler! I might just as well have gone and—what in thunder ere the redskins at now ?’ Carefully peeping out from behind the rocks that had proved their best friends, they saw the Indians gathered in a little group, and point- ing upwards in evident I^ach one was had now reached the opposite side of the river, j standing by tbe side r.N , . , - Cyan'Ll vn Hit*' b?>MPe wjjk.. rdra- , hoen eanc^jt «».. : r. > . Vv^his back, as it all ! drowned horses, confident that their revenge ■ thought of strife had been vanished from their | would be both swift and certain. Fortunately j minds. And so it was. They had seen a sight the guns of th6 teamster yet remained to them, | they feared more than they loved plunder—one 1 and these Fisher and the Indian secured, hop- that made their superstitious hearts quail with ! ing by their skilful use to hide their weakness ! terror. j in the matter of arms. There was a hope, too, j ‘By heavens ! It is her you call the wolf-wo- that the rifles dropped on the other side would j man !’ said Curtiss, laying his hand upon the ; remain unnoticed. In that case, one of the two ' arm of the trapper, and directing his eyes to a THRILLING STORY OF MOUNTAINS. THE ROCKY BY W. H. B. CHAPTER V. AMErsGADE—THE DESKBTED—A MTPTWUO* NTK8E. Leaving the horses t-o the care of hired drivers, well knowing that their fears would urge them onward as rapidly as possible, the trapper, Cur tiss, and the Indian followed behind, to hold their pursuers in check. Bat in this running fight little injury could happen to either party, and thus the bank of tbe swift river was reached. Cross it they mnst, to gain a place of perfect security, aad the moment the trapper arrived, j guides would endeavor to secure them, no mat ter how dangerous the undertaking might be. And thus was the savages keptffrom crossing the river by the plainly visible muzzles of the two guns, and the little party intently watch ing from behind the rooks. The moon disap peared, the Btars veiled their eyes of fire, and the darkness that ever precedes^the dawn, came upon them. ‘Now is ther time of ther greatest danger,’ whispered the trapper. ‘Ef we kin only man age ter keep the red devils at er distance ontil sunrise, we’ll give’em er hard fight yet But—’ ‘The weapons left by the palefaces ?’ inter rupted Buffalo Hoof. ‘We must have them ef it oosts us our life. You stay here and keep guard, and I’ll go and be seized the whip from the hand of the terrifi ed drivers, and began lashing the half frantic steeds. One crossed in safety at the usual fording- place; but the other one, containing the woman and ohildren, missed the shallow water, was suoked down by the strong current and parting from the rnnning-gear, floated rapidly down stream. •My God ! My wife, my children !’ burst from the lips of Curtiss, as he saw all he loved on earth drifting away to certain death, either in the madly foaming waters, or beneath the knife and tomahawk of the still more merciless savages. ‘ Fisher, Buffalo Hoof! What shall we do ?’ The answer of both was by actions, and not by words. In an instant they had given their rifles to the care of agonized parent, and plunged in to the waves, thinking that he would find his way across, and meet them with the rescued ones on the other side. Little, however, knew they of the love of a husband’s and father's heart. Could he stand idly there—Btand without rais ing his hand for their safety? Fer a moment only he did so, and then casting away not only the rifle that had been given to him, but his own, he also sprang in,—sprang from the dizzy brink just as the wagon contain ing all the precious freight upset, and he saw them struggling with the waters. Lnckily for him he was drifted ashore, and dragged out by the teamsters just as strength was exhausted. Had it not been so, the dark waters of the Mis souri wonld have snng his requim forever. But the others failed not in their misson. Dripping like Neptnne they came ashore—one with Mrs. Cartiss, and the other with the little boy in his arms, but the girl was missing. ‘ My daughter !’ shrieked the poor mother, as Bbe fell insensible into the arms of her husband. ‘My daughter ?’ asked the father questioningly. A wild scream, apparently ooming from the clouds, oansed them to look up, and to tbeir hor ror, they saw a form, clothed in skins, leaping up wildly from rook to rook, with the child in her arms. ‘ The wolf-woman !’ whispered the Indian aad the trapper in a breath. ‘ 'Woman or devil, I am going to follow her!’ Bhonted Curtiss; and he would have done so, bad he not been forcibly detained. * Yer not goin’ one step !’ said Fisher, resolute ly- * It would only be ter yer own destruction, and besides, we want yer here ter help ns fight. Whar ar thar weapons V * The rifles ? I don’t know. I left them—’ ‘ Left them ?’ thundered the trapper. * Left ther rifles?’ 1 Yes on the other side of the stream.’ 1 Left them on the other side of ther stream !* My brother muBt stay,’ answered the Indian, firmly. ‘Iftheredman should fall, there will be none to miss him on earth, and his wife and little ones are waiting for him in the happy hunting grounds of the Spirit land.’ ‘But I tell yer that yer shan’t go. Ther’s too few like yer, on the top of the airth, now.’ ‘And soon there will be none, ’ replied the In dian, sadly. Even in that moment of extreme danger, he could not keep from mourning for his race. ‘Soon will the red man have faded away like the summer flowers, and their graves be b eaten level with the prairie. None shall knew of tbeir bravery—none of their skill as hunters—none of their loves—none of the Great Manitou, they worship.’ And before he conld be answered, he had disappeared. But how truly had he spoken. ‘The pale man no sooner came here,’ said an Indian orator, ‘than he thought of preparing for his posterity. The red man never thought of this.’ And he was right. So, too, was Buffalo Hoof, of all the things of which he had spoken, they— ••—Will with the ted man perish, For tbeir language leave* no scroll, Nor tradition writ, to cherish Such immortalneas of soul. So the names that they have given To the cnarms of Nature here— Streams, cascades, lakes hill and valley— Let us fervently revere. For though civil life effaces All else they have gloried in. Yet this poetry of plaeee Shall remind us they have been; Therefore, white man, pioneering Par and farther in the west. Let the Indian names be sacred, Though thou ravage all the rest.” Bat all who remained, felt that Buffalo Hoof had sacrificed himself in a vain effort to save them; and while Curtiss was hopelessly trying to calm and compose his wife, and the now somewhat reassured teamster, helping the trap per to make a show of resistance, they watched in intense anxiety the return of the Indian. Dawn came, the snn rose hot-breathed and fierv-eyed, but still he came not. Yet they re ceived sad tidings—tidings, that to the expe rienced eye of the trapper, told of sndden death. A little raft formed of light and dry wood, drifted ashore near where they were ambushed, and on it were two of the coveted weapons— those of Fisher and Curtiss—covered with blood. ‘By tbe great hearings!’ exclaimed the trapper, ‘poor Buffaler Huff bes gone fer it! Thar is a print of bloody hands on one of the stocks.’ ‘How do yon know it is his ?’ asked CnrtisB. ‘Didn’t yon ever notice that he hed lost the first finger of his right hand, squire ?’ ‘Yes. He told me it had been bitten off by a bear.’ high, jutting point of rock that hung over the opposite shore. ‘Wal, I’m mighty glad on it, and that’s more’n I ever thought I should be ter see er witch.’ ‘Why ?’ ‘Because the redskins won’t follow our trail no longer arter she has once crossed thar path.’ ‘Can they be such fools as to dread—to believe such things ?’ ‘Yes, and you’ll believe it, too, before yer get out of these mountings, fer yer’ll have to go every inch of ther way on foot.’ ‘You are crazy, man. We still have one pair of horses.’ ‘Yes, dead ones. ’ It was but too true. The faithful animals had been exposed, and the Indians, in their savage fury, had made them targets for their arrows, and they were as bristling with feathered shafts as a porcupine is with quills. A heavy sigh escaped tbe lips of the husband as he realized his great loss, but his attention was called away from it again by the voice of the trapper. ‘See! how they hurry erway like dorgs that have bin stealin’ sheep. In er few minutes yo won’t see them for their dust, and they won’t oome this way ergin in a hurry, I kin tell yer. They had far ruther see all the white men that you could crowd onter the perarer than one of the evil speerits. Yes, see, they are mounted and off,’ and the trapper stepped boldly from behind the rock, and fired a parting salute at them. ‘Now,’ said Curtiss, ‘ to find my child,’ and he looked at the spot where a few moments be fore, the woman had been standing, bat nothing was visible. ‘I reckon we had better look arter Buffaler Hull' first,’ and the trapper, having assisted the teamsters, to roll the carcasses of the horses in the stream so that they would float away and not beoome offensive in casil they should be forced to remain long in that particular spot, began to arrange matters so that be conld go on the trail of his lost friend. Not that he expected to find him alive—the bloody imprint upon the rifle was proof positive against that—but still he would find the body if possible, and give it a decent burial. ‘Yon are not going alone ?’ asked Curtiss, who was still determined to search for his loBt child. ‘Wal, yer kin go along ef yer have a mind ter. But first, let me tell these ar boys how ter fix np things, so as ter be kinder comfortable,’ and he directed them to draw the wagon still farther out of sight, and to pile np the siones in front so as to completely hide it from all eyes, in case any straggling Indians should come that way. When all was arranged to his satisfaction, and both CnrtisB and the trapper had convinced the poor, heart-broken mother, after a long and hard struggle, that there was not the slightest danger in remaining, and after they had instruct ed the teamsters, in case of anything threaten ing, to fire two shots in rapid succession, they loaded their almost emiraculonsly-recovered rifles and hastened to cross the river. Soon the eagle-eved trapper had discovered the spot where he had picked np the wood, and the point at whieh he had launched the little raft In vain, however, he looked for the body or the place where it had been thrown into the stream. ‘By the Heaving* ! b*t it’s mighty strange, he muttered to himself, and then began to look more intently aronnd than ever, for some cine to the mystery. Trampled grass, torn bushes, and great spots of blood—all the evidences of a fearful struggle j he soon found; and then he saw what he had , before feared—that the body had been flung in to the waters. From that, he traced the foot- ; prints backward, and after following them for | nearly hall a mile up the stream, they saw a sight which added greatly to their astonishment. In. front ol a little hut built of branches and £-.5? c ? v ered all over with skin, so as to By the Lord ! if ii ain’t Buffaler-Hnfl arter all!’ exclaimed tbe trapper, as he dashed for ward, regardless of the rough and dangerous nature of the path—dashed forward until he had reached the side of the kneeling Indian, and was shaking his hand with the utmost vigor. ‘My brother is glad to see the red man again !’ said Buffalo-Hoof, as soon as he could release his fingers from the iron grasp of Fisher. ‘ Glad ter see yer! I never was so gJad of anything in my life. I found whar thar had been er scrimmage, and lots of blood, and thought you were gone for sartin.’ Swiftly the Indian lifted the skirts of his kilt so as to reveal a fresh scalp to his eyes alone, and as swiftly dropped it again. He knew how Curtiss, long as he had lived upon the frontier, looked with horror upon such things, and he was too much of a gentleman—one of nature’s moulding, red man though he might be—to even let his eyes rest upon it. The trapper in stantly understood all, and continued; ‘ What have yer got here, Buffaler !’ By this time the Indian had lifted up the form he held, so as to be plainly visible to them. It was that of a young man apparently just recov ering from the effects of a severe illness, for he was emaciated to the last degree. A strong-limb ed man he must have been in the days of his health, but now, feeble as the child at its moth ers breast The light ourling hair hung matted around the sallow brow and cheeks; the lips were cracked by fever, and even the fire in the dark, gray eye was transient and dim, ‘ In the name of Heaven !’ said Cartiss, as he sprang to his side, and handed the trapper the flask of spirits he always carried with him to take the cup from the bottom, and prepare a drink diluted with water; ‘in the name of heav en who are you and how did yon come alone in this desolate spot ?’ ‘Wait ontil he gets er drink,’ said the trapper, ‘it’ll loosen his tongue, and put some courage inter his heart so that he kin talk, I’ve seen er blind buffaler that had been starved ter death, and he want any more of er skeleton tl an this poor critter.’ ‘ No matter; my wife will soon nurse him back to health again. Buc hush, he is going to speak.’ ‘I was taken sick, robbed, and deserted by the party I was traveling with, and wandered here to die,’ said the suffering man to whom the spirits bad given momentary strength, and the rosy flush of health. ‘ How long have yon been here ?’ ‘I don’t know. It seems a long time. I re member nothing, except lying down and pray ing for death to relieve me from my sufferings, until I found this little shelter built above me, a blanket of skins thrown over me, a bark onp of some kind of tea, and some food placed near.’ ‘But who did it ?’ questioned Fisher, almost wild with excitement ‘Who, in the name of goodness, could have done such a thing er way in the middle of these ar mountains ?’ ‘That is more than I can tell.' ‘It must have been er woman, fer the red dev ils would jest have scalped yer, and left yer ter die yer own gate.’ ‘It was a squaw,’ replied the Indian, who had picked up and carefully examined the cap and dishes, formed of; bark, and neatly sewed with the yonng and pliant roots of the pine. ‘Yes, them are’s proof enuff. Some old squaw did it—kinder took compassion on yer, and fixed np things jest as nice as she conld before she went on with her tribe. Well, Buffaler Huff, there’s some good in yer race yet, for she kept it all from ther chiefs and braves. ‘The women of all nations are the same,’and then tnrning to the sick man, he asked, ‘Did the one, who the fever-fiend had kissed with its hot lips, know that the squaw had been here more than once ?’ ‘Yes. It is a week, I should think, since I recovered my senses, and she must have been Here more than once a day, for as .often as I have slept, I have found both the water and food renewed.’ The eyes of the trapper and Indian met as it to exchange opinions, and then there was a rapid motion ot their hands, but their lips uttered not a word. Evidently, they were very much mystified. Curtiss, however, continued the conversation by again asking: ‘Did you ever see this mysterious visitor ?’ ‘I am not certain. I have a dim recollection of a soft, light hand placing cool bandages upon my throbbing head—of a sweet voice whisper ing in my ears, though I could not understand the words; but the rest is all dim—visionary- darkness.’ ‘Then you never saw her ?’ ‘I have a faint impression that I did—once at least; but it is so mingled with my feverish dreams, that I cannot distinguish between the two,’ Far more practically engaged, Fisher and the Indian had been making rude litter of branches, covering it with the skin that had been used as the roof of the little hut. That finished, they lifted the sick man into it, and were preparing to start with him, when Curtiss again asked; 'Have you any recollection of how the one you fancied was your nnrse, looked ?’ ‘Yes. I think she was young, and dressed in skins.’ ‘The wolf-woman .” exclaimed the trapper and ! Indian, in abreatb;the latter adding, solemnly, i 'May the Good Manitou protect us ! ‘Look !’said the invalid, pointing upwards, ‘If my memory is not deceptive, she is stand- | ing there now! i All looked, and, poised upon a rock above them, and so as to be within sight and hearing j of all that transpired, they saw the wolf-woman, ! as they had learned to call her. ‘My God ! my child !’ exclaimed the father, as he dashed up the rocks in pursuit. CHAPTET IV. As Curtiss disappeared, the trapper exclaimed. ‘ The man is mad—mad as er wolf in er trap, Buffaler Huff, and we must carry this ar poor feller and give him inter the care of ther woman, and then toiler the squire jest as fast as ever we kin. He’s mighty desperate, and thare’s no tell- in* vhaf Ha will Ia ’ den at the feet of the astonished Mrs. Curtiss. ‘ Where did you find him ? Who is he? Where is my husband?’ she asked, in rapid succession. In a few words the trapper explained the little he knew, concealing however, the fact ot how he had been nursed, and where her husband had gone. «We left him on the t’other side of the river, ’ he said. ‘He told ns ter bring this ar poor stranger ter you, because you’d just know how ter fix him up. We’ll be back ergin soon,’ and motioning to the Indian, he hastily departed, with his mind filled with strange fears. But the trail of Cartiss was far too broad for them to miss, and very soon they came upon him as he was standing, apparently lost in thought, upon a huge and fiat rock. ‘ By Heaven !’ he was muttering to himself, ‘it was here I saw her last, and here are the prints of her feet. ’ ‘Prints of moccasins, and mighty little ones, too,’ responded the trapper. ‘And that proves she is a woman.’ 1 No more than it does that I am one.’ ‘ Pshaw ! I am out of patience with your nonsense. Let me hear no more about a being that is part wolf and part woman. ’ ‘ The catcher of beaver is right,’ interrupted the Indian; ‘she has feet like a squaw, and claws like a wolf.’ ‘ And a head like both ?’ ‘But one at the same time.’ ‘ And can change whenever she pleases, I pre sume?’ ‘ Sartinly !’ replied the trapper, who was not easily silenced. ‘ Sartinly she kin, as you’ll find out before yer git done with her.’ ‘ I would like to put it to the proof. But here are her tracks, and I am determined to follow. If you are afraid, you can go back.’ • And leave yer ter fate! Ef I do may 1 be blessed ! But jest lend me some silver—mine’s all gone—ter make inter er bullet. We may have need on it before we know it.’ Unable to move the superstitious trapper until this request had been complied with, Curtiss was forced to comply, though inwardly chafing at the ignorance and superstition that could fos ter such an idea. But as soon as the rifle was loaded, to the satisfaction of the trapper, he took the lead in the search, following the foot prints as a dog wonld have done, nntil he stop ped by an overhanging rock, and shonted: ‘ Here’s ther den of the oritter, anyhow !’ and he pointed to a gathering of leaves and bone*. • Yes, here’s whar she sleeps and eats.’ * My God ! if my child should—’ began Cur tis*, but the thought was far too horrible for him to give it utterance. Both of his companions wonld have spoken words of comfort, but what conld they say? Their fears rested npon deeper grounds than his did. Had they seen the poor child lying before them torn limb from limb, they wonld not have been astonished. Such stories had been familiar to them from infancy, and all the wild and hor rible legends of the Nomad races of wildwood and prairie thronged their brains. And so all stood terrified and undecided how to act Not that Cartiss even then gave the least credence to their marvellous descriptions, although its constant reiteration was beginning to find its way to both his heart and brain. He thought of the strange being as a crazy woman, and was fearful that in an hour of anger she might have destroyed his little one. Very suddenly, how ever, they were aroused into action. If their ears, strained to the utmost, did not deceive them, they heard the cry of a child, and instantly followed in the direction of the sound. ‘It’s little Clara’s voice,’ said Cartiss. ‘I wonld know it among a thousand. Great hea ven ! if—’ and again fear silenced his toneue. ‘It was er ory of pain,’ whispered Fisher to his red companion, ‘and I pray to the good Lord that we may not be too late ter save her.’ Bat not a word escaped the lipB of Buffalo Hoof. He stood rooted to the ground, as if cast’