The Worthington advance., 1876-08-03


The next day / saw Reynolds lead N
old, ill.shaped, bony, dun -colored
HORSE to the farrier's. was some.
what curious to know il he was going
to ride that animal to Laramie and
asked him. {. -
"Yes," said he, in his quiet way.
1.-The general let me pick my own
mount and I've 1ot the one that suits
1me.'' D.
Noticing my surprise at his choice
he continued
81 suppose 1 could have picked out a
tbetter-lo0king one, but this is the sort
for my trip" And scanning the beast
over he added: He knows more than
faanan, If he is:sbony. Look in his
teye The farr1lr took the horse 8
shoes of and pared his boots neatly.
Reynolds then went to the sadtller and
had a set of leather shoes made to fit
the horses feet, so as to buckle around
the fetlocks.
"What are those for!' asked.
"A little dodge of mine to fool the
Indians. They make no trail.''
Then he packed three or four days.
rations in a saddle pocket, prepared Il
supply OF ammunition, and cleaned up
a long, Old-fashioned rifle. Then, eat.
ing hearty dinner, he lay down under
a wagon for nap.
About 4 o'clock that evening an ell
gineering party started off in the di-
rection Reynolds was to take, and sad.
ding his horse and strapping on can
vas bag of settlers, he accompanied US.
We rode till about 10 o'clock, and
went into camp in cluster of trees
near brook. "A fire was lighted, A
pot of coffee made and after drinking
Il cupful Reynolds mounted into his
saddle and rode silently off into the
dark.
His path lay through trackless
wilderness-20O miles of 1.-THE con.
slant haunt of hostile Indians, and
not foot of the ground had Reynolds
ever seen before. He had never been
at Laramie he only knew the general
direction in which it lay, and his only
guide board was the stars. After four
nights of riding and three days of
sleeping he reached his destination un.
harmed. saw him afterward at Fort
Lincoln on our return. He told me he
got through nicely and mailed the let.
ters had intrusted to his care.
| had been told that under this gen.
tie demeanor lay a romance as remark.
able as any Cooper ever wrote, and one
day asked him to tell me the story of
his life. He blushed a little, laughed
|quietly, and replied he didn't think it
worth while.
''But they tell me you have had A
remarkable experience" suggested.
"Not so very remarkable, lie ans
wered. 81 guess you can find enough
to fill your paper without publishing
anything about me-"
And that is all the romance 1 got
from his lips. But from the lips of
others learned that he had not al
ways been Lonesome Charley Rey-
nolds," No one, however, knew his
true name. He was called "Lone.
some" because of an absent pcnsive
way he had-a habit of seclusiveness.
He came to Lincoln from Montana
three years before, with his '*partner, :"
where the two had been hunting and
trapping together for several years.
The story of his life that "partner"
told was this:
Reynolds was the son of a wealthy
aristocratic family in Tennessee, but
was educated in the north, and when
the war broke out he found himself
in painful dilemma. He had imbibed
enough of northern ideas to make him
strongly hostile to the secession move.
ment, while his family, consisting of a
father, mother and; sister, were VIC.
lent sympathizers with the south. His
father entered the confederate army
as III officer early in the war. The son
could not go with him and fight against
his principles, nor could he stay at
home and brook the taunts and plead.
ings of his mother, and sister, nor
could he join the federal army and
fight against his father, so he left his
home and wandered away to the mines
on the Pacific slope. His home was at
the centre of hOStilities, and all com.
municatiOn was cut off.
At the close of the war he went back
to Tennessee, and what was once his
home was desolation. The neighbors
told him his father had been killed in
one of the early battles, his mother
had died, and his sister had married a
rebel officer whose name was not re-
membered, and all traces of her had
been lost. The old plantation had
been con6scated, and there was not a
single tie left to bind him to the past.
He spent some months in search Of his
sister, without result, and finally.
homelessness and disposition which
shrank from fellowship with men
drove him back to his old home in the
mountains to spend the rest of u weary
life. From 1865 to 1872 he was in the
mines in Colorado and Montana, and
hunting and trapping along the streams
of the great northwest, being EN-.
ployed occasionally by the government
to do some work for which ordinary
men were too cowardly or incompe.
tent.
He was a short, stocky man. with {;
little stopping of the shoulders, and a
way of carrying his head bent forward
with his face toward the ground. He
had shrinking blue eye, a very hand
some mouth, and forehead on which
|one could trace blue veins, rs you can
ltrace them on the forehead of a won.
an. He was full.bearded. but neither
the growth of his hair nor the marks
|of exposure had eff;,ccd the lines OF
Il>nn.,k.. (so.>o liz e>oo YHs.