Weekly Chillicothe crisis. (Chillicothe, Livingston Co., Mo.) 1878-19??, 1883-01-04
THE GUIDES STORY.

we were Ill CAM on lnc SOuln DranCn
of the Platte, hunting and fishing
party of five, with two guides, Ned
Longstone and Billy. Whether Billy
were short for William or no, or
whether it were Christian or surname,
no man knew. 1t was enough that
the oldest and best guide in the region
was Billy, and that he was with us.
How and where to find trout and deer,
when to hunt and fish, what to cook
and where to 50, Billy knew almost in
tuitively.
Longstonc was good man, a fair
huntsman and faithful guide, but
Longstone and Billy We're not to be
mentioned together.
THE old 'un lays over me an over
all the others" admitted Ned, with II
grin. "Hc orter," he continued, after
moments thought, ''fur he's twice us
old as am, an was born in these
mountains an raised among the tim
ber an the Injuns. He's been woods
man, huntsman an scout these forty
years. He ortcr be better nor me, an
he is"
"Scout?" said Dick Black. 'lIas the
old man served in the army?'
"Indeed he hast replied Ned. He
was at the Lava Beds when Captain
Jack killed all the white men, and was
with Custer in his last campaign"
by Jovc, boys!' cried Black, "wc'll
have a yarn out of the old chap to-
night! Be sure to be in early
We were in early, all of us, and after
the evening meal had been disposed of,
and our pipes were lighted as we
gathered about the campfire, Billy
was called upon for story.
"Give us tale of early days and the
red skins, Billy" said Harry Webb, our
youngest companion, land some of
your own escapes"
The old guide runinatcd n moment;
and then, tucking his pipe into the
corner of his mouth, he replied:
I'll give you bit of my own life,
boys, if ye'd like it, an about rs narrer
asqueak it was, too, as ever | had
from Iniuns, leastwisc-if ye care TO
hear it,
We all signiiied our desire to listen
by stretching our blankets and our
selves at the old mans feet, and after
a moistening touch of my wicker flask
he began:
Something like twenty years ago
was in the employ of the government
as a scout and guide, my headquarters
being at the military station near
Cherry Creek, now Denver. From
that point ranged in all directions,
as information might be demanded of
the movements of the Injuns, some
times alone, or with one or two COM
panions, and sometimes with n troop of
cavalry. The service was dangerous,
but to man of my nature it was very
attractive.
"One morning, early in the fall
disremember the year now-thC cap
tain of the post called me, and said:
"'Billy, l hear rumors that the Black
feet are ranging along the foothills to
the north, and that they are gathering
in force, and propose to attack the
Creek. How soon can you examine
the truth of the report and let us
know?'
"'Within five days, sir, an perhaps
three, said |.
"'How many men do you want?'
"One besides myself. Tom Ster,
ling, replied.
"Sterling was soldier, but good
friend of mine, and an excellent scout.
"'All right replied the captain
take Tom with you. Go wherever
you choose to the north, find out how
many Blackfeet are in the country, ant
report to me as soon aspossble. Mean
time, take care of your hair
81 smiled.
81 try to, sir" replied, and turneC
away TO find my comrade." "
1.-TWO hours later, Sterling and my
self, well-armed and mounted, rode OH
of camp.
Gan that day we galloped unhesitat
ingly forward, our course tending due
north, and not far distant from the
foothills of the Rockys. We knew
that the reds were beyond one day.
journey, but at night we picketed oul
beasts and rolled ourselves in our blan
kets, without any fire or even pip,
after our supper, lestth flame or smok'
should betray us.
ave had covered more than forty
miles, and were close to the dangerous
band.
"Our precautions were evidently
needful, for about midnight, as nigh al
can recollect, Sterling awoke me
with his hand on my mouth, and whis
pered in my ear, Listen'
~ obeyed him, half rising, Th'
night was dark, for there was no moor
and clouds hid the stars. Asoft breez'
was blowing, and at intervals ther'
camo to me a strange, far-away sound
like the wild music of human voices.
THE red skins are holding pow
WOW back in the hills, whispered Tom
See. yonder's the reflection of theiI
fire..
"He pointed away toward the north
west, and peering in that direction
could distinguish dim red glare, ris
inc and falling among the gloomy
gorges of the mountains, evidentl.