The Hickman courier. [volume] (Hickman, Ky.) 1859-current, 1872-12-21
4 RoMANcE oF Oh BEND


! Leaves darker traces than Fanny's mud pies.
A ROMANCE OF GILA BEND.
From the Overland Monthly.
The day that brought rs to Oatman's
Fiat was murky and gloomy day il
full harmony with the character of the
country through which we were travel
ing. We descended into the Flat by al
abrupt fall in the road. that landed us
at once among a clump of scraggy,
darkling willows, dropping wearily over
a sluggish little creek. In the distance
glittered the white sand-bed OF the
GiIa; and half buried III it, here and
there, were the ghastly, water-bleached
limbs of the trees that the river had up
rooted in its annual frenzy. Verde, OF
grease wood, as ragged and scraggy as
the willows. covered the whole Flat, ex-
cepting where, toward the centre, a
dilapidated shanty stood on a sandy,
cheerless, open space Not far from 1t
were the remains of fence, inclosing
some six PAGES of uneven ground; and
on the only upper rail left of the in
closure sat dismal-looking, solitary
crow
The Flat was repulsively dreary and
desolate; and when Sam, the driver,
pointing to it with his whip, said it was
the spot whore the Oatman family had
been murdered and lay buried, it added
nothing to its attractiveness. Only one
of the whole family escaped-a little
chap, who had crawled away after he
| had been left for dead. and brought the
white people from the next settlement
| to the scene OF the massacre. There
! was nothing to be done but to bury the
mutiIated corpses. After this the place
was deserted and Stunned, though there
had been no more Indian depredations
committed for years
watched the solitary cabin with a
stTagRs egss Rs2ed o nsa55hh2ggtnn have
| been the shadow of one of the victims,
fitting by the black gap which had
once been the door. The place was SO
weird, and the ghostly shadow chimed
| in 50 well with the rest, that l accepted
/ it as a part of the uncanny whole. We
were going along at the usual leisurely
gait. when Sam suddenly and excitedly
whipped up the mules, and leaned out
of the ambulance to speak TO Phil, who
drove the army wagon containing our
baggage. The road was good and solid,
so that 1 took no alarm; but when the
speed was continued, and the baggage
wagon kept laundering close in the
rear, ventured to ask, Is there dan
ger from Indians here?"
'.There hain't no Injens been seen
round here for more'n three year, was
the answer.
Travelling from Los Angeles to Tue
son, you can, if you choose, sleep under
roof almost every night, providing
you have good teams. There are gov
ernment forage stations along the whole
route, where travellers are "taken in
by the station keepers-though not OF
government account. 1 do not say tina
it is pleasant at all these stations-par
ticularly for woman, as she Will sci
dom or never meet one of her own Sc,
on the way When we left Fort Yuma
Sam assured me that / would not see
white woman's face between there anC
Tucson. We were happily disappoint
ed, for we met not only one, but a who'll
family of them, one after the other
/ At Burke's Station, where we were t.
a I ! 70,
rs. The house, a squalid adobe, wa
built in the style common along tn
route: an open passage-way from from
to rear, with rooms on either side. Th
principal room to the left was bar-roon
and store-room; the one to the right
sitting-room and bedroom, and behin'
! it was the kitchen. The passage-wa
was dining hall. When the tall youn
Missourian, mine host, had ushered N
into the room on the right, he steppe,
to the opening leading to the kitchen
and called out:
"Here, Sis; come and speak to tn
lady"
Obedient to the call, bashful, halt
1
, on her apron, and looking up timidl
from under her long eye-lashes. too
her by the hand How do you dc
child? How in the world did you ge
) here-and where is your mother?"
+ asked.
Sam and Phil stood in the hall dool
r nudging each other, till Sam coul
{ restrain himself no longer:
Why, that's his wife" pointing t
! young Goliath from Missouri, ''and he
\ dad and MANS living in the old shant
h down on the Flat I'll be derned
they didn't give me the worst scare
I had yet-thought they was linens
e shore!'
: And how old are you?" 1 asked til
v girl.
20 Almost fifteen" was the answer
/ and, when the men withdrew, she tol
a me about the rest of her family, whol
we would probably see along the roaC
IL A coarse cotton gown, made with
t. yoke about an inch and half in deptl
1t was drawn up close around her necl
II and hung loosely about her slende
= immature form; her naked feet wel
: thrust into coarse boots, and a lare
IS check apron completed her costume
e But there was shy, daisy-like grac
d about her that made one forget til
g dress, and see only the dove-like eye
and the f-pensive smile on her fac,
= Her husband treated her in all thing
= like child; and she obeyed him will
out a murmur or question, Whe