The Republican journal. [volume] (Belfast, Me.) 1829-current, 1874-06-18
BELFAST MAINE, THURSDAY, JUNE Is, 1874.

trapper in the employ Of the Northwest
tr Company thirty or forty years ago,
hut he knew nothing of him. and had
Ilyed nearly all his life with the tribe
whose blood flowed through his veins
lie was therefore an Indian by education,
and possessed nearly all their characteris-
tlcS, with the exception Of q decided
friendship for the whites, whose cause he
espoused at the commencement of hostili-
ties.
lie never wore any other dress than the
traditional buckskin suit, heavily porcu-
plned and beaded. with its long fringe
dropping from the seams, ana he adhered
most religiously to the tribal destinations
OF the war-paint, which he used in the
most eMravagant manner; but that he
was the representative OF the noblest at
tribute in human nature, taithfulness.
which rather than break he accepted
death, will be conceded further on.
Davis was born in Ohio and wandered
to the great plains when he was only
fourteen For thirty wears he had lived
on the extreme frontier. most of the time
on the head waters of the Missouri among
the Sioux, whose language he spoke per-
tcctly. He had lived south of the Platte
Il
Cheyenne SuGaw us his Wife and was
hunting with that tribe when the war
commenced
The most important feature in his
character was that quick PERCEPTION and
determinations which nearly all men
raised on the plains or in the mountains
possess, and which places them far ahead
of the Indian in moments of great difficulty
I,,t l. l.,
at times by an excessive rcclllecsnosS that
eventually cost him his life
The days dragged slowly along. and
more than week passed without the re-
turn OF the two men to Camp Supply.
Other scouts reported that neither had
they arrived at Fort Dodge. and of course
il was admitted that they were dead, killed
by the Indians, but how or where no one
knew, and as nothing conld be learned in
relation 10 their death except from the
scouts or the wagon traiu which alone
travelled the train from Camp Supply to
the Arkansas, the information must come
from that source, if any. in regard to
their fate. hnt rs yet there was no news
OF them.
The train was constantly on the road in
sunshine or in storm. 1t moved between
the camps all winter: ii was barely per
mittrd to remain at either end of the route
even for 4 day. as the least delay in the
arrival Of grain tor the cavalry horses
would seriously embarrass the operations
Of the troops in the field. and might per
haps defeat thA, GREAT object of the cx-
pedition.
Nearly three weeks after the disappear
ancc of M'DOnald and Davis. the train
started from Camp Supply in the midst Of
terrific snow storm Not 4 landmark
was visible. Through the binding sleet
ana cold wind, (guidcd by the compass
alone which the commanding officer held
in front of him, at the head of the long
column Of half frozen men and animals)
the mules pulled the heavy wagons, and
the troops podded Wcarily through the
drifts TO their first camping ground at the
crossing Of the Beaver. ten miles down
the river
The storm ragged all night, and but few
slept. All their energy was taskeI to keep
the camp fires lighted, and themselves
from freezing In the gray dawn of the
next morning the halt-dead mules were
again harneSsed, the stiff icy leather
cracking like 4 rifle as it was thrown over
their bumped up backs, and only with the
greatest urging would they move at ALL
The men cramped with the biting wind
| silently fell into line. and lust as the sun
began to gild the hills high up on the left
of the trail-tor the storm was rapidly
clearing away-the order to move forward
was given
| While the command wa, marching
away, and the wagons creaking as they
rolled over the snow, the COYOTES who had
been impatiently watching from the bluffs
since daylight for this move, trotted snap
ping and barking into the camp to break
fast on the bacon rindS, pieces OF leather.
OF anything else that had been left round
the fires, for that animal is the least
tastidious OF all the wolf family. and ac-
cepts as graciously the .iuiceless LEG OF an
old pair of cavalry boots, as he does the
rich ribs of Young antelope
As the sun rose higher, and 4 mile or
two had taken the stiffness out of the
mules backs. they began to recover their
normal proportions The men. like all
| soldiers, soon forgot their sutterings of
the night before; the cavalry, anxious to
meet war party Of Arrapahoes of
Cheyennes. pushed forward on the trail
and all We're fairly on their march to the
next camp in the blue mist far beyond the
| horizon.
The country between the Arkansas and
| Canadian, the two great rivers Of the
central plains, is solitary and desolate
| beyond the power of description even in
summer. The Arkansas obevs the tortuous
windngS Of its trecless banks with L
placilneSs that is awful in its very silence,
and who follows the meanderings of that
| stream with no companion but his own
thoughts, viii realize perfectly the intense
meaning Of that dread word-alo4e.
| lllimitahle as the ocean the weary waste
| stretches away, and loses itself in the
purple of the Sky, while the mirage
pictures distances that only deceive and
| annoy
The shrek Of the hittern rarely breaks
upon the an ia disturb the quiet of those
waters, nor the sharp whistle of a startled
pheasant to crate harshly on the ear, the
hare mshes trembling iromman' spresencc.
but has no voice TO express her alarm.
and thc antelope and the buffalo move
quickly away 1T his command, but they
too. ltter no sound TO change the quiet
that rigns so supreme.
There are miles of prairie in that region,
however that seem to have risen like is
lands ont Of The sea. '.hedged round with
forests and
'Thcst are the gardens OF the desert, these
The nnsIOrn fields, boundleSs aud beautiful
And fresh as the Young earth ere man had -nncd -
So they stretch
In airy unCuiationS, far away
As if the ocean in his gcnte>t swell
stood sill with all his rounded hoW> fixed.
And motionless forever"
More desolate still are those wastes in
mid winter, when covered with snow, and
the cold wind is howling over their vast
eNpanse OF dreariness.
There was little to change the eternal
| samcaess during these long months as the
train moved day after day through that
bleak wilderness. and its long lines of
wagons in four columns, extending nearly
a mile, and its rattle of wheels only inten-
sitylng the world of monotonv surround
ing.
Occasionally, however, herd of butfa-
loes were discovered in the dim distance,
their shaggy sides contrasting curiously