Gloucester County Democrat. (Woodbury, N.J.) 1878-1932, 1880-11-25
TIE SCOUTS LAST SHOT.
AFrontier Tragedy in Which One White
Man and Thirty Indians Figured.


Man and Thirty Indians Figured.
1t is ten O'Clock in the morning. The
honey-bees are darting over the prairie
in search of the sweet flowers, butter
flies float on lazy wings, and birds are
singing their sweetest songs. 1t is a
scene of deepest peace. Away to the
right is the Little Bear Range of noun
tains-to the lett the prairie ocean ex-
tends as far as the eye csn reach. Ten
miles ahead is a grove of cottonwoods
and spring behind are thirty halt
naked savages on horseback.
Here is a frontier scout as the pivot on
which the scenery swings. On his way
from fort to fort with dispatches his
trail has been struck by war party o.
Pawnees, and they have hung to it
since dark last night, following it across
the levels and over the sweIls at slow
but never-ending gallop. They knew
that he was full hundred miles from
help. and they knew that his bloody
scalp would add another to their
trophies.
you're rubbed out man !" said the
scout as ne looked back at dusk and
saw them coming at a slow gallop over
his trail. They could not have over
taken him in dash of two miles, but
in gallOp of fifty they would tire him
out.
At an easy gallop of five miles an hour
the mustang forged ahead through the
long and weary night, changing his
pace only when the rider got down and
ran beside him.
Two miles behind him, riding thirty
abreast and covering front of half a
mile, followed the implacable foe, gain
ing a little, losing little, but ever con-
fident.
When the sun came up from his
prairie bed not q savage was missing.
The scout turned in his saddle and
counted them, looked ahead for land
marks, and coolly said:
You took the chances and you have
lost, but you will die game"
The mustang was almost blown. For
the last half hour he had labored heavi-
ly, ind had almost been held up by the
bits.
"The grove would have been better
place, but the end would have been the
same," said the scout as he drew up and
dismounted.
The Indians wer two miles away. In
ten minutes they would be within rifle
shot.
Goodbye, old pard-I must do it."
said the scout, as he took hold of the
mustangs head and drew his knife
across the faithful equine's throat.
He wanted breastwork, and here he
had it. Two minutes were time enough
to cut bride and saddle to pieces, and
then he mounted the body of his dead
friend and calmly waited the approach
of the Indians.
No shout of triumph was sent across
the prairie as he was brought to bay.
That had been a strange chase. They
had suddenly appeared on his trail with
OUT sound, seeming to rise out of some
hssure in the fower-covered prairie.
Not once through the long night had the
scout heard from them except as he
dropped from the saddle and placed his
ear to the ground. But for the steady
thud! thud! of their horses feet he
might have almost made himself be-
lieve that he was being pursued by
shadows.
Sixteen bullets in this Winchester
and six in the revolver" soliloquized the \
scout as the Indians were within mile
of the spot. Did they mean to ride him
DOWN. Each rider was bent over his
horses neck, and each kept the pace he
had had for hours.
My sculp is worth the sculp of ten
Indians!" said the scout as he raised his
rifle, but mebbe can't get over six or
seven"
Straight at him rode the line of thirty
redskins until he raised his rifle for q
shot. Then the band divided right and
left and inclosed him in circle. Not
shout from any tongue. 1t might have
been called a still hunt.
The line was out of rifie-shot at first,
but it gradually worked nearer and
nearer, and at last TIE report of the
scouts rife broke the stiffness of the
morning.
"Twenty-nine leftIn he rsaid as he
threw out the empty shell.
Not shot came from the Indians in
reply. Every warrior threw himself on
the opposite side of his horse, and the
hardy ponies followed the circle at
steady gallop.
Twenty eight lefti"- said the scout
as he fired again.
No shout or shot in reply, but the cir
Gle was growing narrower.
Twenty-seven leftp
Three of the horses in the ring were
galloping without riders.
'Twenty-six lefti"
The scout had fired coolly and de-
liberately, shooting every victim
through the head. His rifle had a
longer range than those of the Indians,
but now they were near enough to open
in reply.
Twenty-Five leftl" he said as another
savage fell into the grass with wild
scream ofrage and pain.
Five of the thirty were dead. Now a
yell runs around the circle, and every
horse turns his head toward the COM
mon center and charges the scout.
Puff! bangI puff bangI bangl
bang!n
Three horses went down and two
more riders fell backward from their
saddles.
Twenty-three lefL!" counted the
scout, as he dropped the gun and leVeled
his revolver.
They were upon him. They shot at
him, struck at him, and tried to ride
over him.
Puff! bang! puu. -,Angm
Five shots struck men or horses, and
when the hammer fell for the sixth time
it sent the last bullet into the brain of
the scout.
Nine Indians were lying dead around
the pivot, three more were wounded,
and five or six horses were disabled. All
this TOR single scalp and the glory of
shooting brave mans dead body full
of arrows, cutting off head, hands and
feet, and shrieking like demons as the
blood spurted far over the rich green
grass.
When they rode away the body was
shapeless mass. ItWould rest there dur
ing the day, and when night came the
wolves would come sneaking from hid
den ravines to devour it to the last morsel
and then fight over the bloody Grass