The Indiana State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis) 1868-1895, 1884-11-12
A WESTERN DROvER's STORY.
The Wee Cry That Touched Fathers
Heart and Saved His Child.

a
Heart and Saved His Child.
My name is Anthony Hunt. | am
droyer and live miles and miles away upon
the Western prairie. There wasn't house
in sight when first moved there, my wife
and /. and now we have not many neigh
bors. though those we have are good ones.
One day, about ten years ago, went away
from home to sell some fifty head of cattle
fine creatures as / ever saw. 1 was to buy
some groceries and dry goods before l came
back, and above all doll flor our youngest.
Dolly. She bad never had a store doll of her
own-only rag babies her mother had made
her.
Dolly could talk nothing else, and went
down 10 the very gate to call after me to get
stand how full my mind was OF that toy, and
how, when the cattle were sold, the first
thing hurried off to buy was Dolly's doll.
1 found large one with eyes that would
open and shut when you pulled wire, and
had it wrapped up in paper
and tucked it under my arm while l had the
parcels of calico and delaine and tea and
sugar put up. Then, late as 1t was, started
for home. 1t might have been more pru-
dent to stay until morning, but felt anx-
ious to get back and eager to hear Dolly's
praises about her doll.
/ was mounted on a steady-going old horse
and pretty we'll loaded. Night set in before
/ was mile from town, aud settled down as
dark as pitch while | was in the middle of
the darkest bit of road L know OF. 1 could
have felt my way, though, l remembered it
so well. and when the storm that had been
brewing broke, and pelted the rain in tor
rents, l was five miles, or may be six miles,
from home.
1 rode as fast as could, but all of sud.
den / heard little cry like child's voice.
/ stopped short and listened. / heard
it again. | called and it answered
me. 1 couldn't see thing; all was as
dark as pitch. / got down aud felt
around In the grass-cslled again, and
again was answered. Then / began to won
der. I'm not t;mid, but was known to be
drover and to have money about me. 1t
might be a trap to catch me unawares and
rob and murder me. / am Interpretations
not very, but how could real child be out
on the prairie in such night at such an
hour? 1t might be more than human. The
bit of q coward that hides itself in most men
showed itself to me then, but once more l
heard the cry, and said /:
"If any mans child is hereabouts Anthony
Hunt is not the man to let it die"
searched again. At last bethought me
of hollow under the hill and groped that
way. Sure enough l found little dripping
thing that moaned aud sobbed as / took it
in my arms. / called my horse and the
beast came to me and 1 mounted and tucked
as | could, promising to take it home to
mamma. 1t seemed so tired, and pretty
soon cried itself to sleep on my bosom.
1t had slept there over an hour when saw
my own windows. There were lights in
them, and supposed my wife had lit them
for my sake, but vi hen | got into the doorway
! saw something was the matter, and stood
still with dread fear of heart five minutes
before / could lift the latch. At last did il,
and saw the room full of neighbors and nv
wife amid them weeping. When she saw me
she hid her face.
"0h, don't tell him" she said, sit will kill
| him."
What is it, neighborsT" | cried.
Nothing now, l hope. What's that you
have in your arm?n
"a poor lost child" said L; 81 found it 90
the road. Take it, will your I've turned
! faint" And lifted the sleeping thing and
saw the face of my own child, my Dolly.
1t was my own darling, and none other,
that / had picked up on the drenched road.
My little fchild had wandered out to meet
/ papa and the doll, while the mother was at
work, and they were lamenting her as one
dead. ! thanked heaven on my knees be-
/ fore them.
1t is not much of a story neighbors, but
| think of it often in the nights and wonder
/ how l could bear TO live now if l had not
stopped when heard the cry for help upon
! the road, hardly louder than squirrels
! chirp.
| That's Dolly yonder with her mother in
! the meadow girl worth saving-I think
| (but, then, Pm her father and partial, may
be- the prettiest and sweetest thing this side
| of the Mississippi.