News and citizen. [volume] (Morrisville, Vt. ;) 1881-current, 1883-08-16
Finding a Trail.

Here in the shadow of this grim
mountain is a 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 a 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. Aye, it
has been lost. 1t is as if the white men
had followed a path which suddenly
ended at precipice From this point
the red demons took wings, and the old
est trailer is at fault.
The men on picket looked up end
down the narrow valley with anxious
faces. Down the valley, a mile away, a
solitary wild horse paws and prances and
UttGrs shrill neighs of wonderment and
alarm. Up the valley is a long stretch
of green grass, the earth as level as a
floor. and no visible signs of life. The
pines and shrubs and rocks on the noun
tain side might hide ten thousand In
dians, but there Is not the slightest
movement to arouse suspicion. 1t Is
still, hot day. Not bird chirps, not
branch waves. The eye of a lynx could
detect nothing beyond the erratic move
ments of the lone white horse adown the
valley. and the circular flight of an eagle
so high in the air that the proud bird
seemed no larger than a sparrow.
For an hour every man and horse has
looked for ''signs," but nothing has
been discovered beyond what has been
described. 1t is a lost trail There is
something in it to arouse suspicion as
well as annoyance. Ten miles away the
trail was as plain as a country highway,
and the Indians had no suspicion of pur-
suit. Five miles back there were signs
of commotion. Here, in the centre CT
the valley, every footprint suddenly dis
appears.
Look, nowl 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 sad
dIe-girth has been frightened, 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 a slow gallOp. Each
man casts swift glances along the noun
tain side to his right-aIong the noun
tain side TO his 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 a
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 figure
| of stone, and where the valley sweeps
! to the right like the sudden turn of the
| river, the signal is caught up and 200
| Apaches, eager, excited and mounted,
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
half mile away, and his breath comes
| quick and his nostrils quiver as he stands
and stares at the strange spectacle.
little nearer and his muscles twltch and
culver and his sharp-pOinted ears wOrl
faster. Only eighty rods now, and witt
a fierce snort of alarm and defiance ht
rears up whirls about like top, and il
off down the valley like an arrow sen
by a strong hand. The sight may thrill
but it does not increase the pace 0
those who follow. The men see TIN
wild horse fleeing before them, but tn,
sight does not hold their eyes more than
a second. To the right-to the left
above them-down the valIey-they ar
looking for Il hoof-print, for a trample,
spot for broken twig-for sign how
ever insignificant to prove that men hav
passed that way. They find nothing
The signals up the mountain side wer
visible only for seconds.
After the first wild burst of spec
the lone horse looks back. He sees tina
he is not being pushed, and he recover
courage. He no longer runs III straigh
line, but he sweeps away to the left
swerves away to the right, and change
his gait to trot When he hears tn
shouts of pursuit and the louder thumr
of the hoof-beats he will straighten ava
and show the pursuers a gait which moth
ing but whirl wind can equal.
Look 1t is only quarter Of a mil
now to the turn in the valley. The Ion
horse had suddenly stopped to sniff tn
mir. His ears are pointed straight ahead
his eyes grow larger and take on
frightened look and he half wheels as
he would gallop back to those who hav
seemingly pursued. Five, eight, te
seconds, and with a snort Of alarm h