The Manitowoc tribune. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1866-1878, 1869-04-01

1
| Red Knife was killed yesterday
He was only wounded, interrupted
! Thompson. He is coming to take his
vengeance on us settlers. He has divided
| his band into two. They were up at the
| Deer Fork this morning, and are no.
coming this way. The points to be strut..
are your house and mine
My God!' calculated Dane, as his in
formant paused in his excited, breathless
narration.
"A horse. horse!' cried Thompson,
reeling with fatigue. I can go no fur
Their on foot. My wife, my children
God pity and save them!'
He looked from the huter to his daugh-
| ter in agonized and mute suppiication.
/ Dane snatched the glass from Miriam
hands and placed it to his eyes.
| He looked to the northwestern his
pretty cottage, his wife busy at herneedle
under the trees-and glanced at the dim
line of the horizon stretching away east
ward and westward from his home.
| Suddenly the glass dropped from his
hands-~his face blanched to the hue of
snow From the west, seeming to emerge
from the clouds of scarlet and gold, he
had beheld band of mounted Indians
riding boldly towards that unprotected
home, towards that unconscious and help
! less woman saagE a.o
With frenzied cry, he put spurs to
his horse, and dashed away ike mad
man, shouting to his daughter to follow
staggered forward and fell in the maiden S
path. holding up his hands in anguish.
MY wife ! my children ~ he groaned
There was no hesitation in the soul Of
the brave Miriam.
'Mine is but single life; he has
seven depending on him." she said, aloud.
As she spoke, she leaped from her sad
| die, and, and with gesture, commanded
him to take her place.
"But--your daughter!" faltered Thomp-
son. "The Indians"
Miriam again pointed to the saddle.
eco" she commanded ''Thlnk only
of your family, and be goneP'
Still Thompson hesitated, sweeping the
horizon with eager glances, to assure
him that no immediate danger threaten
ed. A change came over his face as he
looked, and he uttered a wild cry, catch
| ing ND the glass MIR. Dane had let tall,
and looking through it. &
| The sight he beheld convulsed him
with terror. ea
Not mile away to the west, he saw
coming over ridge in the plain, and APP
preaching rapidly, a considerable body
OF mountain saVages.
They re coming-a band of red -skins
directly towards US he gasped. I'm
lost! Fly, Miriam, while you have the
time -
The maiden took the glass and gazed
through it an instant at the approaching
foe A strange light appeared in her
eyes-a light possessed only by those
upon whom God has bestowed a con-
sciousness Of His great protection-the
light ola heroism which death itself can
not master
Sure enough she murmured. sThey
are coming! The leader is Red Knife.
Go, neighbor Thompson-on the Instant!
We can ride together' cried Thomp-
| son.
No! The horse is tired. We have
been to Willow Island We should be
| overtaken before we had gone two milesp
| Then we'll die together =
No no! You must mount
With a grasp so sudden and firm that
it startled him, the maiden pushed him
towards the horse, and in another instant
he found himself, more by instinct than
| by thought, seated in the saddle.
Away, Selim cried Miriam to her
steed, with an imperative gesture.
| Away
The horse broke furiously over the
plain, giving Thompson only time enough
to flash look of gratitude towards the
maiden, as he dashed away to the north
west, towards his menaced home.
| A moment later, MIR. Dane looked
over his shoulder-took in at glance
the situation Of affairs, recognizing the
| peril as well as the heloism of his child
| bowed his head solemnly, as one submits
to the inevitable, in appreciation OF her
conduct, and then he swept on to the
rescue Of his wife, his soul torn by such
| emotions as are seldom brought to battle
together.
And Miriam, throwing herself fiat
upon the ground, remained alone upon
| the plain, in the very path of score of
mountain Indians. who were galloping
towards her with the swiftness of the
wind
CHAPTER II.
A CURIOUS AND STARTLING MYSTERY
Skirting the Black Hills, forty miles
west of Fort Laramie, party OF horse
men were riding eastward
They had left Fort Bridger eight days
before, taking the route Of the North
Platte, and were now following the Ore
| gon emigrant road, among those long
ridges, dry beds of rivers, and sterile
plains, by which the region of the Black
| Hills is distinguished
| The bulk of the party consisted of ten
cavalry men, under q lieut. enant, who
were returning to Fort Laramie, their
post Of duty. They we're well mounted,
and had several led horses in their train,
loaded with their provisions and appur-
tenances of travel.
| The balance of the party comprised
three civilians, who had seized the op-
| portunity of crossing the mountains under
military escort Two of these were emf
| grants who had settled near Fort Bridger,
but who had tired of the great solitude,
or been frightened by the Indians, and
were now returning eastward In search Of
| homes nearer the haunts of civilization.
| The third civilian was Hubert Earle,
the lover of Miriam Dane, the settler S
| daughter, whom we have Just left in such
deadly peril.
He was splendid specim en- of Ameri-
canmanhood, agnifcently formed, broad
| shouldercd, deep-chested, as vigorous as
an athlete, and rode his horse, frey
Mexican steed, with the grace and ease
of Centaur:
At the moment of his introduction to
the reader, be was riding in the rear of
| the little train, busy with his own refec-
tons, which were evidently az bright as
the morning itself-the forenoon preced-
ing the events we have recorded.
His thoughts were wrapt in the sweet
memory of Miriam, who had wept SO
bitterly at his denarture. and who. he ex-