Dodgeville chronicle. [volume] (Dodgeville, Wis.) 1862-current, 1872-08-23

| genee came into her eyes. Then she stock
from her bosom another cross, and held il
hanging from her neck by a small string
OF s1neW. She placed it beside the other
and compared the two, still with the look
of new knowledge in her face No won
der, for these two were the only crosses
Kate has ever seen.
Mariana examined the girls one rude
! keepsake, and wondered within himself
how she got it and why she wore it. 1t
was a small toy carved of white bone
upon one side, not unskilfully cut, the
well-known image of the Great Martyr.
and Upon the other two curious letters and
date. Doubtless it was specimen of
old monastic skill carved in cell across
the sea but why did the scout look at it
so long and curiously, and still hold it
and look ? Because it seemed to bring
back an underlined memory of something
| long past. 1t reminded him of dim
| time when he was often hungry and often
| cold, and when scenes and places changed
rapidly. 1t was associated in his mind
with a leathery smell and smarting eyes,
and wildness and haste Above all it re-
called beautiful and suffering face, and
kisses and caresses and tears. While he
| still pondered he had fastened his gift be-
| oIo0 tl1O. ObuCI, 1nu given tu0IH UdCh "
the girl. She turned away from him, the
tears almost in her black eyes, and, seem
Ling to forget his presence, suddenly
| kissed the cross she had worn, muttered
| the one word "Madre," almost as sweet
in that liquid tongue as the English
'mother," and was gone What could
she mean when she whispered "mother ?"
And, stranger, still, where could this shy
! Apache girl have learned the sweet sig
nifcance of a kiss The strangest asso-
| Citations and dearest memories of this sad
| life are connected with that word and that
act, and poor Kate either knew them of
| herself or had learned them from some
| source not altogether consistent with her
| wild life and her savage ancestry.
| The grotesque train of burdened asses.
the gay horses prancing in utter ignor-
ance of coming hardship, and the riders
destined to return horseless, footsore,
weary and in rags, filed out of the post
and took its way towards the mountains.
In front, beside the cOmmandant, rode
Mariana, somewhat moody, and more
melancholy than he had ever been in his
life before. But the probabilities and adj
ventures of the scout in the mountains
were not uppermost in his thoughts. His
memory of hidden springs, desolate passes
and camping places, was blurred and
mingled with more recent mysteries. We
have all seen the clustering, busy, impa-
tient fellow, intensely occupied with the
business in hand, who, when alone, and
no one is looking, sits himself down in a
retired corner at the depot, in the hotel,
or upon the railway car, and reads for
the twentieth time the tinted sheet cover
ed with the delicate lines of a woman's
pen. How his world-worn face changes
as he reads again the words already al
most known literally by heart. By-and-
by, he places it again in his securest
| pocket, and is ready, as before, for all
that comes He seems to have forgotten
| it, but he has not, and to a greater Or less
extent it influences his life.
Mariana had no letter in his pocket,
and could never have read it if he had;
but he had the same feeling, the same de-
licious, haunting, obtrusive sensation in
his heart of which the dear and foolish
epistles which came to us when we were
young were the fuel And the little worn
white cross? AS he watched the regular
footballs of his mule, and absently twisted
the fringes upon his thigh, how often did
he tuna that obtrusive mystery over in his
mind. He had seen it; he knew it WE'LL
I'LL a. AilI0U lb SCChlCO SOhhCCUCO
with rocks, and camps, and dew, and
him of-the sorrowful, patient, beautiful
face! It seemed to the scout as he pom
dered that the only memories of his life
in which tenderness had any place were
somewhat connected with small white
cross. And one midnight, two days af-
| forwards, as he lay watching the fllmy
clouds and sailing stars, still thinking, 1t
came to him-came with a thrill which
went to his fingers ends, and then came
surging back to his heart. 1t was Joy at
first which made him start up from his
rude bed, and then it was sorrow clothed
in mystery which nearly drove him to
despair. Ay, that little cross, with it's
sad image and date, he had last seen
eighteen forgetful years ago, upon the
bosom of a woman whose homelessness
and helplesspess and sadness he had even
then almost understood, and whose
wrongs he had during these long years
avenged with kind of blind ferocity. 1t
was his mothers; and as he lay down
again among the sleeping figures he wiped
the CLEANLINESS from his forehead.
Even then his trained ear seemed to
catch slight sound which was not of the
camp. AS he raised his head and listened
and looked, small stone rolled down
the hill and stopped in sileace at the bot,
tom. The sentinel stood carelessly lean
ing upon his piece with far-away thoughts,
but a dim figure moved rapidly away in
the valley shadows. The scout was in no
mood for alarms. Starlight is deceptive,
and perhaps it was only gray coyote.
But in the early morning he stopped sud
denly in the march, and creeping upon
his knees examined long and curiousiy
the faint footsteps in the dry sand of the
ravine. They were moccasin- tracks, and
they were alone. "Indians % said the
commandant. "No," said the scout with
the pantomime which means utter per-
pleXity. Mariana was at last puzzled in
his profession, and like learned doctor
he declined to give any opinion in diff
cult case. Apaches inhabited these noun
tains, and they only. But an ordinary
Apache never made these footprints. See
here, and here, and here-they are q
woman's steps, and the toes are tatTiae1 Sut
a0Grd. Qatea1a so6e9 asa
The night of the day upon which the
scouting force left the post, the Indian
girl had been seen quietly asleep by hel
mentors and guards. But when morning
came they mourned alike the absence OF
| Gne1r nuSDdHQS anu bHolI pupL. hoW vi
when no one knew, but over the wall and
far away Kate was gone. There were
none there who could be spared, even il
they could follow so light trail. The
women could only lift their hands oE
high, and exclaim, /" Did yes liver % an6
return to their washing, and by none Of
them was she ever seen again.
1t were useless to recount the incidents
of the weary, thirsty days of an unsuc
cessful scout. Everywhere the phantom
Indian vanished from the freshest trail
They seemed near, but never to be over