The Cheyenne daily leader. [volume] (Cheyenne, Wyo.) 1870-1884, 1881-02-06
THE OLD TROOPER.



broken into swells like great green
wave On the left is a scraggy plain.
Ahead, seeming only two or three miles
away, is a mountain range. The
soldiers will have TO ride a long ten
to reach it. You can see their backs
as they trot over the crest of a swell
half a mile away.
Now look behind you. Twenty tuft-
ed heads are peering over the ridge, not
800 feet from the camp fire-twenty
pairs OF eyes CLINT and CLEAN and blaze
hate as the cavalry disappear. Now
twenty Indians rise up and peer and
look. They were hiding there a full
hour before the troop left, but they
were not strong enough to give battle.
They waited on in hopes that some one
would linger behind and fall a victim.
Like tigers they Rugged the grass-like
snakes they wormed themselves along
like devils they bided their time.
Hail Every redskin has disappeared
like a fash. The clank of sabres las
almost died away in the distance, and
no bird utters its note neal the deserted
camp. What is the alarm?
Thudl thudi thudl
II is the hoof-beats of u horse. A
trooper returns at a gallop, searching
the ground with his eyes. There it is
the iron pin with which he stages his
horse. He overlooked it in packing up,
and has returned to make good his loss.
He gives one anxious look around him,
and then dismounts. The pin is in his
hands when there is a rush OF feet and
he straightens up to find himself the
center Of a circle of demons. Not a
yell has been uttered-not a shot fred
or a bow bent.
lie is a brave old trooper. He bears
the scars of arrows and bullets. and he
has sent more than one redman to his
long home. See the despair in his eyes
rs the devils mock himl The troop is
two miles away and riding ahead at a
trot. He clutches the stout iron pin
with frmer grip, but after a moment
his fingers relax and it falls to the
grass. II he had raised it TO strike a
dozen bullets would have entered his
body before the blow fell. He is trap
ped, and there is no hope.
Before the troopers have missed their
comrade he has been captured, tied to
the horse, and is riding away at a gall
lop. AS he leaves the camp he turns
and looks back over his trail. Three or
four miles away he sees a line of blue
for an instant as the column sweeps
over a ridge. Now it fades out, and he
is doomed. There is a malicious chuckle
from every savage throat and the
trooper feels a chill creep over him at
the sound.
The gallop slackens. There is no
hurry. The cat has the mouse and en-
joys its sufferings. Over ridges-across
little valleys-skirting hills-and there
is a lone tree beside a purling stream.
Behind it is a hill.
Between it and the creek is n level
spot of ground a hundred feet square.
The red riders dismount, pull their
prisoner from the horse, and the ami
mails are turned loose to crop the rich
short grass.
Despair first nerves a man to take
desperate chances. Then it unnerves
him and chills his blood. An hour ago
the troopers face was like bronze.
Now it is as white as the snow lying
on the crest of that grim mountain
fifty miles away. But he is no coward.
A coward would lament and beg and
entreat and demand mercy. The old
man shudders as they bind him to the
half-grown cottonwood, but no word
passed his lips. He does not look at
the Indians, but over their heads at the
green PLAINTIFF groves-the silvery
thread winding around the glorious sun
which is warming the heart of every
living thing beyond that circle of saw
ages.
Now an Indian leaves the circle and
advances to the tree. He laughs in the
face of the prisoner. He peers into his
eyes. With his keen knife he reaches
out and sewers an ear and waits for a
scream of pain. 1t does not come.
The teeth shut hard, the eyes grow
stony in their gaze, and that is all.
The swift, sharp knife sewers the other
ear, and the fiends shout with pleasure
at the CHASTITY figure before them. They
hope to hear ream and shrieks, but
they are disappointed. The blood trick
les down-a chill shakes the old man
and then his lips are pressed closer than
before.
Not n Indian now. but the whole
circle. They crowd around him with
sharp knives, and each seeks some new
torture. Fingers are unjointed, the
is sliced of, cords and tendons are
exposed, powder is poured upon the hair
and fired, and after each hellish act
they draw back and hope to hear his
screams of agony. Not a sound es-
capped his compressed lips. His wide
open eyes were fixed upon a distant
grove, and they never move. They had
one more torture. With devilish glee
they an here and there in search Of
whatever would burn, and q Gre was
kindled around and upon the bloody
feet. The flames wavered and sputter-