The daily gazette., 1875-06-01
The Mail-Carrier.
Il Story Of the Winter of 1864

In the frontier town of Nebraska lived
John Dalton. This name had fallen into
such state of neglect and non-use that
it would scarcely have been recognized
by the old associates of its lawful owner,
and even to him, doubt not, it would
have sounded strangely.
He was better known, particularly on
the borders, as Captain Jack.
After his own simple fashion he was
character with o history. His title he
won gallantly and wore easily.
One day in the Rocky Mountains. a
small party of miners, surrounded by an
overpowering number OF Indians, re-
treated into canyon. For three days
and nights, with little intermission, the
combat continued. On the first day the
leader OF the gallant little band fell, and
Dalton, then a youth, was selected ON
account of his cool, determined bravery,
to carry on the defence.
When relief came he was found behind
an extemporized barricade at the main
entrance Of the canyon. his companions
either dead or wounded, holding his post
with desperate courage which would
have abated with death only.
His lines had not fallen in pleasant
places. He had been participant and
leader in the wild scenes of adventure
and danger which, like so many throes,
attended the development of the great
West. He had belonged to that hardy
class which forms the first line of the
advance guard of civilization-those who
go ahead and open the way, throw the
first rude bridge across the mountain
torrent, first penetrate into the wilds of
the enemy, are the scouts and videttes,
fall bravely and die in remote places,
unknown and unnoticed. When the his
tory of the conflict is written out their
names are not on the rolls of fame.
Firm, brave, honest and true. Dalton
early acquired an ascendancy over his
companions. Quiet and unassuming,
his words always carried weight. His
life had been furrowed by hardship; his
body bore the marks of many struggles,
but his nature had escaped without a
blemish. A nobler, kinder heart never
beat. As husband, father and friend he
had no superior.
AT the time / presented him to the
reader he was fully fifty years old, but
was still in his prime; tall and swarthy,
| no flesh to spare, plenty of bone and
| muscle and awkwardness, his head COW
cred with shock Of sandy hair, hecked
with gray, his beard shaggy, his features
| angular. Held to the accepted standard
of beauty. he had nothing to commend
him, unless we accept his large blue
eyes, as gentle in expression as those of
a maiden, and beaming with good will to
man.
Naturally methodical and fond OF
quiet, he sought peaceful ending to a
stormy career, and had, as he expressed
it, "settled down" With his small
earnings he bought cottage, and for
an avocation carried the mail between
two little towns in Nebraska, some IF
teen miles apart.
The winter of 1864 is memorable for
| its severity. Accounts from all parts OF
the country added. to the long list OF
suffering and death. Many perished
with the cold at their very thresholds,
in the thoroughfares of cities. where re-
lief was on every side, strong men fell
and were buried in the snow. A black
! year in the annals of the poor.
| One morning that year, the thermom-
| eter way down below zero, John Dalton
mounted on his faithful horse, received
the mail. For five years, come and 60
promptly to the minute, in good wealth
er, and also in bad, excepting only Sun
days, and the day when his first born
was buried IN the church yard, he had
made his daily journey.
He took the old familiar road, passed
by his humble home without appearing
to notice it. and, as was his wont, STOP
| ped on the summit Of knoll command
ing the east front of the cottage, and
only few yards from it, for what he
stood his wife with an infant in her
arms, the wee thing waving its hand
and smiling. On either side were a lit
tie boy and girl, each mounted on q
chair the better to get last look at the
father who was so dear to them.
I This was the goodbye that warmed
the mans blood, made his lips quivel
with smile, and sent him on his way
rejoicing.
Ine sun shone brightly, making til,
frost-coveredprarie glister; the sky wa
deep and blue.
Between its termini the road hat
two distinctive features, about miles
apart, known as the Lone Tree, tn,
other was called Bacon's run. a ravin,
bordered by thin growth of stuntet
timber. On the line of the road, or il
proximity to it, there was no habita
tion or shelter for either man or hi
beast. The prairie was high and roll
ing.
The first part of the journey wa
made in the usual way. At half-pas
two o'clock in the afternoon Daltol
started on his return. He was nc
over twenty yards away when he wa
overtaken by the postmaster, VIII
. charged him to be diligent in tn
delivery of highly important letter
caution which made patent the fac
that the cautioner must be q "ne,
hand"
Had Dalton ever failed.
At this time a change had take
place in the weather. A thick haZ
overspread the sun, paling it TO tn
hue of silver the wind had shifte
to the northeast. These signs had nc
escaped Dalton's notice. The mour
taineer, like the sailor, soon learns tha
life itself often depends on the quic
recognition of the friendly warning
which nature gives to the wayfare
He scanned the narrowing horizon an
urged his horse TO a brisk trot. H
reached Bacon's Run, passed it, an
mounted to the level of the prairi,
From this point, on a clear day, th