San Marcos free press. [volume] (San Marcos, Tex.) 1877-1892, 1878-12-21
, wyLD WESTERN ADVEN-
TURE.

kansas IuNcf hSb'o"' y "~'S '"S'
q desperate courage, who had taken
hair lives in their hands too often to
.ore for the danger they were exposed
70. Old Rip was man who stood five
,ost eleven in his moccasins--a man
,hom YOU would hardly care to meet in
,he close tug of IL desperate battle. His
hard brown face was scanned with scars
from bullet, knife and claws of wild
beasts, and his muscular body showed
tl,e marks of many desperate struggle.
4Buckskin Sam" was the beau ideal OF
amountaineer and plains man, the West.
ern hunter that the novelist paints and
The school-boy dreams of and wishes
some day to be. Although not so pow.
erful as Old Rip, he was man of great
personal strength and desperate courage.
For many a year these two had roamed
the trapping grounds together, fighting
the Indians, grizzlies and wolves, chas
ed by night over the burning prairies,
defending their camp against the sud-
den attacks of red fiends, or spending
recklessly at the monte-board the money
sthey had earned so hardly on the trap
ping ground.
They had been out NIL winter, and. as
spring approached, the last cache was
covered and the trappers now began to
think of returning home. The camp
was built up near the river, a tributary
of the Canadian which flowed through
dismal canyons in which the lightof day
never shows, under the shadow Of gi-
gantic cliffs upon which human beings
never yet set foot. and only spreading
out at places where the cunning beaver
had built his dam. The river was brok-
en- by great rapids, and abounded in rare
fish, upon which they had feasted roy
ally for many day. They had canoe,
and had been discussing the chance of
going down the stream in that in order
to save time.
81 am ready to take the chances, if
you are, Rip" said Sam.
II don't like to give myself away"
said Rip. "What do you know about
the river after we get down to the big
canyon, and whoever passed through
it?"
"That's the fun of the thing, Rip
We do what no one else dare do" said
Sam.
Il don't like it," replied Ford, who
was by far the most prudent Of the two.
"I-ha! what in Jehu is that?" They
seized their weapons and ran to the door
Of the hut, just in time to see dozen
Indians running down through the grass,
blocking up the only way of escape.
The moment the repeating rifle began
to play upon them they went out of
sight among the rocks and began their
gradual approach, which could only end
in one way-the white trappers would
be overwhelmed!
"There's only one chance, Rip" cried
Sam.
"And that?"
"The canoe"
Il am your man." cried the giant trap
per. "You push the canoe into the wat
er and throw in the weapons while I keep
those fellows at bay. Oh, would you?
Take that"
An Indian had raised his tufted head
to get better shot at the trappers, but
before he could get back the unfailing
eyes of the trapper had looked through
the double sights and the rifle cracked.
The Indian sprung suddenly to his feet,
spun sharp around upon his iceland fell
dead IN his tracks.
The next moment the canoe shot from
the bank and headed down through the
boiling flood, plunging in the canyon
below so rapidly that the Indians had
scarcely time to recover from their
amazement at the sudden exodus before
the trappers were out of sight. One of
the Indians bounded to his feet and ut
tered low signal-whoop, and two large
canoes, containing in all about fifteen
men, rounded point m the river above
the canyon and came flying down under
the strokes of the paddles. The Indians
on the shore simply pointed down the