Mineral Point tribune. (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1869-1938, 1878-10-16
A Wild Western Adventure.

Kansas river region. They were men
of desperate courage. who had taken
their lives in their hands too O6ten to
care for the danger they were exposed
to. Old Rip was man who stood five
feet eleven in his moccasins--s man
whom you would hardly care to meet
in the close tug Of desperate battle.
His hard brown face was scanned with
acara from bullet, knife. ard claws of
wild beasts, and his muscular body
showed the marks of many desperate
struggle. "Buckskin Sam" was the
beau ideal OF mountaineer and plains
man, the western hunter that the
novelist paints and the schoolboy
dreams OF and wishes some day to be.
Although not so powerful as Old Rip,
he was man Of great personal strength
and desperate courage. For many q
year these two had roamed the trap
ping grounds together, fighting Indians,
grizzlies, and wolves, chased by night
yer the burning prairies, defending
their camp against the sudden attacks
of the red fiends, or spending reckless
ly at the monte board the money they
had earned so hardly on the trapping
ground.
They had been out all winter, and as
spring approached, the last cache was
covered, and the trappers now began to
think of returning home. The camp
was built I'D near the river, a tributary
of the Canadian, which flowed through
dismal canons in which the light of
day never shows, under the shadow of
gigantic 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
broken by great rapids, and abounded
in rare fish, upon which they had
feasted royalty for, many day. They
had canoe and had been discussing
the chance Of going down the stream
in order to save time.
/ am ready to take the chances, if
you are, Rip" said Sam.
l don't like to give myself away"
said Rip. "What do you know about
the river after we get down to the big
canon, and who ever passed through
it?"
"Thaps the fun of the thing, Rip.
We do what no one else dare do" said
sam.
" II don't like it," replied Ford, who
was by far the moro prudent of the
two. cha! 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
rifles 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
"Theres only one chance, Rip"
cried Sam.
"And that?'
1.-The canoe"
l am your man" cried the giant
trapper. "You push the canoe into
the water al throw in the weapons
while l 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 heel
and fell dead in his tracks.
The next moment the canoe shot
from the bank and headed down
through the boiling flood, plunging in
the canon below so rapidly that the
Indians mad 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 uttered low signal whoop,
and two large canoes, containing in all
about fifteen men, rounded the point in
tho river above the canon and came
flying down under the strokes of the
paddles. The Indians on the shore
simply pointed down the stream, and
the canoes dashed by at a furious
speed, the wild yell of the paddlers an
nouncing to the white men that they
were pursued. The first rapid passed
they entered long stretch of water
where the current was only four or five
miles an hour, and there the propellng
force in the other canoes began to tell,
and the Indians gained rapidly.
On each side Of the canoe the canon
was wall, 200 feet in height, and the
Tappers could only put all their
strength in the paddles and dash on as
fast as they could. Two miles further
and the pursuing canoes We're scarcely
hundred yards behind, the Indians
yelling like demons as they saw the
white men almost within their grasp.
Rip Ford shook his head as he looked