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SSI t; OH
fmcoln Hi L is. . ♦
VOL. VIII.
RETURN OF THE REGIMENT,
Tat us vjeop -with the lave, Molly dear.
Tet us mourn with a sigh and a tear—
S*t>r the regimont’B come, ay, ’tis here
But, och hone, for the boys!
And, hark ye! ,,, the drum , and . „ the life
They be tnimickln’ war to the life!
Wkal’8 the good o’t, the noise and the
Will strife? the
it bring back boys?
See! the banner has many n scar,
A staiuin each fold, on each bar,
Gathered up on the red fields afar,
From the breasts of the boys!
: Q )
G7 A/?
r \
\CS
a momm os the yampa,
LEVY “Hi” San¬
ders sat on his
!M ftggaa big saddle-wheel¬
er, and tightened
g m m bis jerk-line over
the swing-team
and leaders that
were straining on
the. stretchers as
the freight train
behind him thun
dered on the
Union Pacific track. Hi’s train, also
a carrier of commerce, rolled in lesser
thunder on the wagon-road, which
was obscured by the smoke of the en
gAe. The six mules snorted and
plunged; the looming front wagon
lurched after them with louder jan¬
gling of chains; the trail-wagon jerked
in quick connection on its short
bobbed tongue, and the mouse-colored
saddle pony, led behind, stepped
knowingly up on slackened halter.
Train and team on parallel roads
• . ■ up
opposite side of the freight-house.
On the platform Hi’s father stood
waiting. The old freighter’s power¬
ful figuro leaned on a stout ash stick;
but his eyes followed Hi while he
threw off his trail-wagon, detached
swing and leaders, and set his wheel¬
ers to backing in the fiont wagon un¬
til the rear end struck squarely
against the platform. Then Hi swung
from the saddle and up beside bis
father.
“I’m afraid I’ll have to weaken
this trip. Hi,” said his father, “This
rheumatism’s got such a hold. It
keeps its grip like Oleson; he’s hold¬
ing me to the contract, and his goods
must go.”
“I can make the trip alone,” re
tured Hi. “I reckon I know the road
most as well as you do.”
“It’s not that,” said his father.
“There’s some talk about tbe Utes.
But I reckon you can catch up with
Grayling. His outfit pulled out for
"White River just before you came in.
He told me the Utes were wild about
their new agent. That tenderfoot’s
plowed up their race ground for a
wheat-patch, and keeps on rubbing
their hair the wrong way. Grayling
says they’re sure to make a break.
He heard they’d picked off a stray
cow-puncher on the Picoance, and
’lowed this was his last trip to White
Biver.”
“Grayling won’t get more than
half a day’s start, and I reckon, pap,
the mules can take that up this side
Bear Biver,” said Hi. “Bod and I’ll
load up, and ’ll pull out in a jiffy.”
But Hi’s “jiffy” had grown into
hours when the wagons were loaded,
and Hi went with his father to Ole
son’s store to sign the bill of lading.
Oleson, the astute Scandinavian
who “ran” several stores in western
Colorado and Wyoming, pushed over
th e paper to Hiram senior to sign.
“No, no, Oleson, said the old
freighter, with pathetic pleasantry.
“I’m turned out to grass now, and
Hi, here, is coming into the collar.
And as he’s to do the freighting, he’ll
do the signing.”
Oleson fixed his neutral-colored
eyes on the young freighter. “So?”
he said. “Der boy grows pretty high
now, but I haf some t’ousand dollar in
dem two wagons.”
“And Fm backing up tbe boy!”
broke in Hiram tbe elder. “He’ll do
the signing, Oleson.”
So Hi set his big fist to tbe bill of
lading, and became bound for the
goods in transit.
The wagons were coupled, and Bod
put in a last plea. “O pap, let me
go. I’d bo a big help about the team.
Say, wouldn’t I now, Hi?”
Bat Hi, watching his father’s face,
‘To thine own. seif be true,and it will follow, as night the day, chon cans’tnot then be false to any man.”
LINCOLNTON, GA , THURSDAY JUNTAS, 1900.
Ah, Molly, the motoerS oi men
Keuring What’s babes, one by one, nine or ten— and
the use o’t? The war comes,
then
It’s away with the boys!
To be killed or be crippled—for what?
For some boundary scheme, like as not,
Or some feud that 'ud best be forgot,
And is naught to the boys.
We’ll be glad and rejoice, Molly dear,
We’ve no lads to be listed! But here
Comes the Widdy McLane—drop a tear
For the three of her boys!
i —Ida Whipplo Benhara, in the Sun.
refrained from saying yes, and Bod’s
pleading availed him nothing, ..u a
fury of disappointment, the boy
rushed to the saddle-pony, which was
his own pet property, jerked loose
the halter, jumped into the saddle,
and was off down the track in an
instant.
“It don’t matter, pap,” said Hi. “1
don’t need the pony. The mules
never go far hobbled, and come back
for their grain. Don’t worry, pap,
Good-by! Take care of yourself!”
The white-sheeted wagons trailed
off to the south. Not until twilight
did Hi go into camp, at, a green
rimmed spring by the trail, and the
landmark of Elk Mountain was a blur
iu the darkness when his sage-brush
fire flashed up its light. Squatted by
it, busy with frying-pan and coffee¬
pot, Hi missed two companions—Bed,
and the rifle forgotten in his hurry of
preparation.
From the meadow, he heard the
Challenging ^neigh v of/the vigilant*
' mules; an answering counter sign'was
whinned from out the darkness, and
presently Bod came riding gaily in on
“Mouso,” the pony.
“Just fill up that frying-pan, Hi!”
cried Bod. “I’m hungry as a coyote.
Pap wouldn’t let me wait a minute
when he came home and found out
you’d forgot to take the Winchester.
Here ’tis. Hi, I’m going with you!”
“Did pap say so?” Hi asked.
“Well, he didn’t say no, and he
wouldn’t say yes,” Bod answered,
honestly. “But I reckon he knew if
I got this far, I’d keep on to the end
of the road. And then he sort oi left
if to you.”
“Then you’ll go back home in the
morning,” returned Hi, promptly.
But restraining Bod was like bitting
a fractious colt, and iu the morning,
when a range rider passed oppor¬
tunely, Hi sent back a note to his
father giving his pledge for the boy’s
safety. Bod was duly grateful, and
honestly took his share of the work,
At the break of day he rounded up the
mules for an early start.
The mountain meadows were yet
spongy, and the rail was beset with
chuck-holes torn hub-deep by Gray
ling’s great wheels. But when they
crossed the Little Snake, they found
Grayling’s camp-fire still smoking at
Four-Mile; and they came on it again,
cold in ashes, at the top of the next
divide—where they had to throw off
their trail-wagon pulling up the
“pinch. ’ Thus they halted at Jack
Babbit Springs for the night, while
Grayling reached the Yampa, or Bear
River.
With the morning sun they rolled
up Lay Croek hill. From its top Hi
saw white wagons trailing over the
broken ground beyond the Yampa.
“There they are, Bod!” ho shouted
“We’ll catch them to-night if we keep
a-rolling. We’ll make a short noon
ing at the river just to water and feed
the mules.”
It was barely noon when they ap
proached the bridge down a steep
grade curving around the foot of the
bluff, which broke away into a rough,
rolling bottom. On the opposite side
the ground was much smoother,
Some fifty yards beyond the bridge
was an abandoned corral, built of
rough stones and topped out with logs
of drift from the river. Hi pulled
across the bridge, drove a little dis¬
tance off its short, graded approach,
and unhooked.
The bluff opposite was steep, rocky,
and bare of all vegetation except o
little sage-brush. Among these low
bushes Hi saw something move ever
so slightly, and his eyes presently
made out the head, of a Ute, peering
down at the bridge. 3i had no doubl
that there were other Indiana worm
ing through the sage-brush, This
stealthy, reconnoiteriny* \ contrary U
their usual, if—r approach, con¬
spicuous in bright Blankets with open
gestures and greeting in keeping,
struck him with sinister chill. The
Ute’s head almost instantly disap¬
peared.
“Bod,” said Hi, etly enough,
here “bring under your the pole bridgf| an J try I’m this going hole to
fetch the pony down to water.”
He saw the boy start carelessly foi
the shelter of the bridle, and wenttc
the wagons where th* pony stood,
To turn his back to the bluff and walk
off slowly was a test gf nerve. His
hands trembled as removed the
nose-bag led and bridled f^io pony. But
he him quietly down to water by
Bod’s side, where tl|e bridge bid
them safely from the bluff,
The little horse put. fc down his head
to drink and Hi slipped the Win¬
chester from its scabbed on the sad¬
dle. “Hand me your*cartridge belt,
quick, Bod!” he cried, his voice be¬
coming suddenly thick and husky.
“What’s up?” asked Bod, unbuck¬
ling his belt.
“There are Utes leaking up to
Tills is
( m R. G. Tarver,
;
'
, -
SL / : Manager of the
1 1: * nr
■m sr i ■ GREAT EASTERN
% ;;/ / m j
■\: SHOE CO.
;
«, You ..all >, -.w K;^w ,Himl ||< j
"Urn-fJ.. kV.
1
He is the
Red Hot Shoe Bargain Man
SELLS THE BEST SHOES
ON EARTH FOR THE MONEY.
If you want Good Shoes Cheap, do not fail to see him. Call at
HAT EASTERN SHOE COMPANY J
907 Broad Street, Augusta, Ga.
ns , - Hi answered, “I saw one on
bluff. You take the horse and
llp w itH Grayling and get him to
back some of his men. I’ll
them off at the bridge, so they
follow you.”
“0 Hi, take one oi' the mules and
come along, too!” cried Bod, showing
bis excitement.
“No, no! I must stick with the
wagons,” Hi hurriedly answered,
“Besides, a freight mule against one
of their ponies! Bod, you must make
the Mouse do his best! Some of them
might swim across above or below.
Hurry.”
The eyes of the two met in parting
—Hi’s humid, Bod’s with a gallant
shine. He swung his quirt, clear on
his wrist, and riding up the bank,was
lost to Hi’s sight. In another instant
the click of the little horse’s heels as
he made his first jump on the road,
sent Hi’s keait flying,
Fora breathless second or two he
watched the bluff' while the Mouse
added a good fifty yards to the hun
dred and fifty between bluff and
bridge. Then as the Utes divined
the rider’s errand, three puff's of smoke
rose from the sage-brush top, and the
mingled reports of the rifles rolled
down the river.
Forgetting that his own safety was
necessary to secure that of Bod, Hi
leaped up the bank. Over the flying
horse ho saw the boyish rider’s broad
bat waved high in triumphant as¬
surance.
Another echoing report sounded
from the bluff', aud the scattering of
splinters from the nearest bridge
timber admonished Hi that its flimsy
superstructure was an insufficient
shelter. Eeasured as to Bod, his
mind reverted to his own action.
From the wagons, jo the low bottom
below the level of the bridge, he could
not command its approach. He
glanced up to the old stone corral, and
then ran for it in a zigzag course,
which was distracting to the aim of
the Indian marksmen firing downward
from the bluff.
Untouched, Hi leaped over the cor¬
ral wall and crouched, panting, be¬
hind it. The irregular spaces between
the rough stonework and the log top
made good loopholes; and his position,
straight out from the bridge, was such
that he could not only command its
opposite winding approach, but rake
the whole length of the narrow struc¬
ture with his rifle.
For more than a mile above and be¬
low, the river narrowed to a gorge, and
its precipitous banks, lapped high by
rushing, icy water, made fording im¬
practicable. Doubtless the Indians
could find a ford some distance below,
but as, in view of Bod’s mission, time
would be au object to them, Hi judged
they would try the bridge. He filled
the magazine of jhis rifle and tried its
action, glancing meanwhile at the
wagons. The freight-mules, startled
at the firing, were bunched behind the
,topping-covers and stood, heads high,
lon K ears wricked forward, blowing as
they eyed ;the opposite side of the
river.
Hi looked in that direction also. On
the road where it curved round the
bluff, he saw six Utes riding into view
in a seemingly disorderly bunch. But
a certain wild order governed their
gallop. ”
As they neared the top of the grade,
Hi heard a startling yip, aud orderly
enough, the bunch lessened, as the In¬
dians, one after another, equally timed
and spaced, with rifles flourished,
dashed down the narrow approach to
ths bridge.
Hi took no flying side shots at these
wily and riders, but knelt with rifle pointed,
eyes strained on the bridge.
Framed in its skeleton archway, the
crest of the foremost horse appeared,
and his hoofs, slung out in his stride,
beat with a thunderlap on the hollow
flooring.
Another stride, another quick-roll¬
ing clap—and then the roar of the
rifle. Struck in the forehead, aud the
horse plunged downward and forward,
and then fell sidewise across the
bridge within the limit cf the first
span.
Through the smoke of his Winches¬
ter, Hi saw the Ute, dropping his
rifle, crawl away on all fours, aud then
his figure was shut from sight as the
flooring again thundered under smit¬
ing hoofs and the second horse raced
up and reared over the first still strug¬
gling one.
The second horse, hit in the neck,
as he rose, by Hi’s second shot
swerved, toppled over the low guard¬
rail, and sank with his rider in a
sounding splash below the bridge.
Down and back, with exultant snap,
went the lever, and again the rifle was
ready. But the rest of theIndians dared
NO. 4.
not rule upon the bridge; swerving
to one side, they sped up the bluff, the
nimble horses leaping like mountain
goats along the slope, and the first In¬
dian, darting from the bridge, making
leap for leap along with the horses.
Hi turned to the riv,er. The Ute
who had tumbled from the bridge had
parted from his drowning horse, and
was now partly floating, partly swim¬
ming with the current. His blanket
was thrown off, and now and then aa
he made a stroke, Hi could see the
end of his short bow projecting over
his shoulder. But as the Ute had lost
his rifle, Hi suffered him to go on
with the current out of sight.
Everything was silent now. As
moment after moment passed in still¬
ness and inaction, Hi began to grow
restless. Doubtless a fidgety side
wise movement saved bis life. With
no sound to his unsuspecting ears, .a
steel-tipped' arrow, aimed for his back,
tore through the big muscles of bis
left arm. The pain was paralyzing,
but Hi sprang to his feet and brought
up his rifle with a whirl.
had The Ute in the river, lauding below,'
crawled along the bank, watched
by the .waiting baud on the bluff, but ■
unseen by Hi, until he reached the ,
opposite side of the corral. Bisiug
over the low wall to throw his strength
on the bow, he had been so sure of
striking Hi’s broad back in the centre
at that short distauce that he stood
still in incredulous confusion,liis hand
flying- back for a fresh arrow as Hi,
raised the rifle. But witji. instant?
change of action, he flung himself
backward behind the wall.
Disregarding alike the yell And the,
ineffectual shots from the bluff, Hi :
rushed after him. Leaping on. the,
corral wall, he saw the Ute plunged
into the river. And there 'Hi, with
pointed rifle, kept him diving until,
vell-nigh drowned, he was swept out
if sight.
Seated in the angle of the corral
wall, Hi leaned back, faint from pain
and loss of blood, and waited, his
The hot sun beat full in’the rocky
ingle, and he b'egAu to turn an eager
eye on the water. Still he watched
while the short slow shadow 'of the
corral wall crept on and past his rest¬
less feet.
Suffering from intolerable thirst, he
arose at last. No sign came from the
bluff, and he walked boldly out and
down to the water, where he drank
vnd bathed his arm.
The Utes were gone. From the top/
of the bluff, they had seen in the dis¬
tance the coming of Grayling’s men.
And Hi had hardly stepped up the
bank and upon the bridge, when fee,
also, saw the big hats of the little
band of riders risingabove the broken
ground.
Hi’s bloody shirt-sleeve caught
Rod’s eyes, while Grayling called out,
“Where's the Utes?”
“Gone, I reckon," answered Hi.
“Well, we’ll go. to a," the old
freighter returned, promptly, “Let
me look at that arm, young fellow.
Hook up them mules, boys, and let’s
he a-rolling. This here Colorado
climate is getting too hot fear me, and
reckon we’ll try old IVyoming, up
Washakie, for car next trip.”
Hi recovered from his wouad soon,
this was his last trip to White
also, until, after the Meeker
the Utes had resigned their
to the trout streams and
parks of that mousisiffic JjwUL—
Companion.
John G. Brady. Governor of Alaska,
who went to Washington in the inter¬
est ol’ the Alaskan bill, said: “The
want of land-title laws has retarded
the growth of Alaska more than any¬
thing else. For instance, Alaska would
be glad to receive the large number of
immigrants who are coming from
Finland to this country. They are just
tlie kind of people who would build up
Alaska. They would be at borne in tbe
climate there, and the resources they
would have are undoubtedly much bet¬
ter than those of Finland. These peo¬
ple would soon become prosperous; but
we cannot invite them to come and
settle upon land to which they cannot
acquire title.”
The growl of the Ameer of Afghan¬
istan against the indifference of the
Government of India may be liis way
of demanding more bachslieesh.. If
so. tbe demand is made at an inoppor¬
tune time, for the Indian Government
bas all it can do just now to provide
for tbe millions of famine-stricken
who are dependent upon it for
support. ......- - .