Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1873-01-23
A ROMANCE OF GiLA BEND.

a ROMANCE OF CHA BEND.
THE day that brought us to Oatman's
Flat was murky and gloomy-a day in
full harmony with the character of the
country through which we were travel
ing. We descended into the flat by an
abrupt fall in the road, that landed us at
once among clump of scraggy, darkling
willows, dropping YEARLY over slug
Gish little creek. In the distance glittered
the white sand bed of the ella, and half
buried in it, here and there, were the
;ghastly, water bleached limbs Of the trees
that the river had uprooted in it's annual
frenzy. Verde, or grease wood, as rag
ged and scraggy as the willows, covered
the whole fiat excepting where, toward
the centre, dilapidated shanty stood on
q sandy, cherries open space. Not far
from i were the remains Of fence, in
closing 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 MS whip, said it was
the spot where the Oatman family had
been murdered and lay buried, it added
nothing to its attractiveness. Only one
of theEhole family escaped-a little chap,
who &aawled away, after he had been left
for dead, and brought tie white people
fromthe next settlement to the scene of the
massacre. There was nothing to be done
but 70 bury the mutilated corpses. After
this, the place was deserted and summed,
though there had been no more Indian
depredations committed for years.
Is watched the solitary cabin with a
str1x1se fascination. Sam, too, had his
eyes Fixed on something that might have
been Che 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 so
well With the rest, that accepted it as
part Of the uncanny whole. We were
going along at the usual leisurelv gait,
when Sam suddenly and excitedly whip
ped up the mules, and leaned out Of the
ambulance to speak to Phil, who drove
the army wagon containing our baggage.
The yoad was good aad solid, SO that
took no alarm but when the speed was
condnued and the baggage wagon kept
thundeIing close in the rear, I ventured
to al, Is there danger from Indians
here2s
There hain't no linens been seen
round here for moren three years." was
the answer
Taveling from Los Angeles to Tucson,
you can, If you so choose, sleep under a
roof almost every night, providing you
have. good teams. There are Govern
ments forage stations along the whole
route, travellers are ''taken in" by the
station eepers-though not on Govern
ment account. l do not say that it is
pleasant at all these stations-particularl
for woman, as she will seldom or never
meet one of her own sex on the way
When we left Fort Yuma, Sam assured
me that would not see q white woman s
face between there and Tucson. We
were happily disappointed, for we met
not only one, but whole family of them,
one 1&ter the other.
At Burke's Station, where we were to
pass the night, the first surprise awaited
us. The house, squaid adobe, was built
IN the style common along the route, an
open Massage way from front to rear, with
rooms on either side. The principal
room 70 the left was bar-room and store.
room; the one TO the right, sitting room
and bed room, and behind it was the
kltcneaa the passage way and dining
hall hen the tall young Missourian,
mileAoet, had ushered me into the room
leading the kitchen, and called out:
Here Sis; come and speak to the
lady"
Obedient to the call, bashful, half
grown girl appeared, wiping her hands
on her apron, and looking up timidly
from under long eye-lashes. / took her
BY thehand, How do you do, child?
How inthe world did you get here-and
where is your mothery" asked
Sam md Phil stood in the hall-door,
nudging each other, till Sam could re-
strain himself no longer:
why, that's his wife, pointing to the
young Goliath from Missouri; 'Tand her
dad and MANS living in the old shantv
down on the Flat. I'll be derned if they
DON'T gave me the wust scare l had vet
thought they was Iniens-shore!"
And how old are you:" l asked the
Almost Fifteen" was the answer; and.
when the men withdrew, she told NE
about the rest of her family, whom l
would probably see along the road.
coarse cotton gown, made with a
yeaAabout an inch and half in depth,
W0fawn up close around her neck, and
looscly about her slender, imma-
!ure0 form: her naked feet were thrust
INTO ecarse boots, and a large check apron
CompRted her costume. But there was a
snys0alsy-llke grace about her, that made
one ORG the dress and see only the
uo!oalke eyes and the half pensive smile
o m nsI Iace: Her husband treated her in
a 8. sRlegs Ike child; and she obayed
III u Nlthout murmur or a question.
esea we left, he told us that we should
1 49, Ns's aunt at Kenyon's Station, and
ed us to say that Sis was well, and
nome least bit homesick.
Wemade kenyons Station early in the
osysam and Phil greatly enjoying the
psoRect of seeing another white woman
oneeppeared on the threshold, brawny,
ee- handed woman of about forty,
tidy-looking, in spite of her bare feet and
snc Short pipe in her mouth. By her