Western Reserve chronicle. [volume] (Warren, Ohio) 1855-1921, 1869-03-31
CHAPTERI.
)RIoUSLY STAKED!

Towards the close of q beautiful daI
IN June, 1857, q man and woman
mounted upon feet horses, came gal
Looping over one of the great plains O
the West, and drew rein in the shade
of q clump Of cotton-woOds upon the
hank of a beautiful river. They haC
ridden far and rapidly. Their steeds
were painting, and covered with sweat
and foam.
1--WE must give the horses a breath.
ing SPELL" said the former, slipping
to the ground and his companion
nodded g graceful assent, as she fol.
lowed his example.
The couple were evidently father
and daughter.
The man was in the prime of life,
hale and hearty, with q large frame,
which was sinewy and athletic, with
out ceasing to be refined and prepos-
sessing. He had the keen, shrewd
look peculiar to the advance-guards OF
civilization, and there was an honest,
frank expression on his sun-browDed
face that proclaimed his integrity and
courage.
In her way, his daughter was equal
" picturesque and attractive.
IL AK carly hu6A VI hOIlhuLOOOs
with a pure, sweet, and tender face,
with eyes darkly glowing, with coral
tinted lips, and cheeks softly flushed
with the hue of the rose, with amber
curls floating behind her, she vas as
graceful IS q gazelle, as light-hearted
as a bird, as lovely as a flower,
and as spirited as an untamed ante
lope.
The stream by which the couple had
halted was Wood river, q branch OF
the Platte, in Nebraska, a point fifty
miles northwest of Fort Kearny.
care you tired Miriam ?" asked the
hunter, George Dane, with fatherly
solicitude.
-"Tired, father ?" rejoined the maid
en-, with q happy laugh. "Oh, no.
How conld I be tired after q day like
this? Every minute has been filled
with pleasure and excitement. 1 feel
as fresh as yonder bird
The father smiled understandingly,
with a look of the fondest affection.
az a guess the cause of your light
ness of heart" said he, smilingly.
1.-THE return, now daily expected, of
8 certain Hubert Earle, from the
mines of Idaho, may account, I sus-
pect, for your present gladness."
A heightened color appeared on
Miriam's face, for the name mention
toned was that of her lover. She
answered the glances of her father,
however, with a frankness that attes-
ted his entire sympathy with her, and
said:
''True, father, my heart has been
unusually light for several days past.
How could it be otherwise, since /
know that Hubert is coming ?"
Nj. Dane did not reply. He was
looking with kindling eyes, Over the
fair hower-dotted plain; and his next
remark showed how widely his
thoughts had strsyed.
81 wonder what mother has been
doing without us all day, Miriam.
She must be lonely, with no one to
speak to or share her meals. Isho1ld
not wonder If we could see our home
from this point,n and his face lighted
ND with asoulful glow. "Our cottage
is not more than seven miles distant ;
let me see ?" !
He drew from his coat a pocket
glass, adjusted it to his sight, pointing
It in q northwardly direction, and
gazed through it long and earnestly,
towards his rancho upon Carey's
Fork.
"Yes, I see it," he said, at last, with
a long, deep, an0 joyful inspiration,
as if the sight refreshed him in every
nerve. "There is our cottage, as
plain as day. / can even see the
vines you planted before the win
dows, Miriam. And there, on the
grapevine bench, under the big elm,
sits your mother, busy at her sewing.
Bless heri She does not imagine we
are looking at her. Look, Miriam.
He yielded the instrument to his
daughter, who obeyed his injunction,
her lovely face glowing with smiles
as she regarded the distant home
scene.
dear mother! :" she murmured.
SIT Is treat to her to be able to sit
out under the trees without fear of
molestation. There are no hostile In
dams hereabouts now-are there faith
er?n
"No. Red Knife, as you have al
ready heard, was killed yesterday by
q settler, and his band has retreated
towards the mountains. I will con-
fess, Miriam, that during all the time
we have been in the West, I have not
felt so light-hearted and eare-free as
since we received news of Red knife's
death. You have just seen how this
10y bubbles over in me. Red Knife
Wasa demon, rather than 8 savage"
Miriam shuddefed, and her features
even paled at the memory of the In
dian mentioned.
HE never spared a pale face"
she said, striving 20 speak calmly.
"Desolation and cruelty marked his
path. For more than three years he
has ragged to and fro upon the plains
like q ravening wolf. He was the ter
ror of the border"
"You have named him appropriate
", Mirism," said the hunter. "He
had a fendish hatred of the white
race, and his victims have been
many"
MI. Dane held out his hand for the
glass, and Miriam was in the act of
restoring it, when a strange, gasping,
painting sound startled them both and j
sent them quickly to their saddles.
The hunter wheeled his horse and !
down upon the river-bank, I
from which direction the sound had
come, his manner self-possessed; but !
us GOuuUSudIc6 AOlCdLlTc u dldIlus I
The maiden followed his example.
Her eyes were the first to discover {
the cause of the sound that had start I
led them, detecting a mans figure c
creeping along through the under 8
growth of bushes lining the shore. +
At the same moment, their pres /
ence in turn was detected, for the
man dropped suddenly among the S
protecting bushes, as if he had been '
shot. '
"An Indian? ?" whispered Miriam, j
drawing from her bosom a revolver.
The hunter shook his head, contin- G
ming to watch the spot at which the
nan had fallen, his hand on his rife,
MS manner that of one ready for &C S
Jon. i
Suddenly, as the man showed q '
face peering cautiously from 7
his concealment, Mr. Danes anxious /
broke into a smile and y
be cried out; S
"Hallol Is that you, Thompson? C
Do you take US for Indians, that you d
skulk there in the bushes ?n
The individual addressed was silent t
3 full minute, as itseemed, from sheer O
Rmazement; then he sprang out from 1
his hiding-place with a cry of relief
and advanced swiftly towards the I
and daughter. I
He was a man of middle age, of the {
ordinary type Of backwoodsmen,
strong and brown and stalwart, of the /
rude, rough type that seems to belong