The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1883-08-16
FINDING THE TRAIL.

| Here in the shadow of this grim noun
tain is camp of cavalry-200 men in
| faded and ragged blue uniforms, every
face sunburned and bronzed, every
sabre and carbine showing long use,
every horse lifting its head from the
grass at short intervals for swift glance
up and down the valley.
Here, at the foot of the mountain, the
Apache trail, which has been followed
for three days, has grown cold. Ave,
it has been lost. 1t is as if the white
men had followed path which sudden
ly ended at a precipice. From this
point the red demons took wings, and
the Oldest trailer is at fault.
The men on picket looked up and down
the narrow valley with anxious faces.
Down the valley, mile away, soli-
tary wild horse paws and prances and
utters shrill neighs of wonderment and
| alarm. Up the valley is long stretch
of green grass, the earth is level as a
floor and no visible sign of life. The
pines and shrubs and rocks on the
mountain side might hide ten thousand
Indians, but there is not the slightest
still. hot day. Not a bird chirps, not a
branch waves. The lynx could detect
nothing beyond the erratic movements
of the lone wild horse adown the valley
and circular flight of an eagle so
high in the air that the proud bird
seemed no larger thar sparrow.
For an hour every man and horse has
looked for signs but nothing nas
been discovered beyond what has been
described. 1t is lost trail. There is
something in it to arouse suspicion as
well as annoyance. Ten miles away
the trail was as plain as country high
way, and the Indians had no suspicion
! of pursuit Five miles back there were
signs of commotion. Here, in the CEN
ter of the valley, every foot print sud-
denly disappears.
Look, now! A sergeant with grizzly
locks and fighting jaw rides down the
valley, followed by five troopers. They
are to scout for the lost trail. Every
man has unslung his carbine, every
saddle-girt has been tightened, and every
man of the six looks over the camp as
he rides out as if he had been told that
| he was bidding a last farewell to COM
| rades. They ride at slow gallop.
Each man casts swift glances along the
mountain side to his right-along the
mountain side to the left--at the green
grass under his horses feet.
| What's that! Afar up the slope to
the right something waves to and fro
for moment. Higher up the signal is
answered. Across the valley, on the
other slope it is answered again. Down
the valley, full two miles beyond,
where the wild horse now stands like a
l - f,to h.
sweeps to the right, like the sudden turn
of river, the signal is caught up and
200 Apaches, eager, excited and mount
ed. draw back into the fringe at the
base of the mountain and wait.
The little band gallop straight down
upon the lone horse. Now they are
only half mile away, and his breath
comes quick and his nostrils quiver as
he stands and stares at the strange
spectacle. A little nearer and his mus
cies twitch and 'quiver and his sharp
pointed ears work faster. Only eighty
rods now, and with a fierce snort of
alarm and defiance he rears up, whirls
about like top, and off down the val
| ley like an arrow sent by a strong hand.
The sight may thrill, but it does not
| increase the pace of those who follow.
The men see the wild horse fleeing before
them, but the sight does not hold their
eyes more than a second. To the right
to the left-above them-down the
valley-they are looking for a hoof-
print, for trampled spot, for broken
twig-for a sign however insignificant
to prove that men have passed that
way. They find nothing. The signals
up the mountain-side were visible only
for seconds.
After the first wild burst of speed the
lone horse looks back. He sees that he
is not being pushed, and he RECEIVERS
courage. He no longer runs in a
straight line, but he sweeps away to the
left-swerves to the right, and changes
MS gait to trot. When he hears the
shouts of pursuit and the louder thump
OF hoof-beats, he will straighten away
and show the pursuers a gait which
nothing but whirl-wind can equal.
Look! 1t is only quarter of mile
now to turn the valley The lone horse
has suddenly stopped to sniff the air.
His ears are pointed straight ahead, his
eyes grow larger and take on a fright
ened look and he half wheels as if he
would gallop back to those who have
seemingly pursued. Five, eight, ten
seconds, and with snort of alarm he
breaks into terrific run, takes the ex-
treme left of the valley, and goes tear.
ing out of sight as if followed by lions.
| .'Haltr'
The grim sergeant sees signs in
the actions of the horse. Every trooper
| is looking ahead and to right. The green