News and citizen. [volume] (Morrisville, Vt. ;) 1881-current, 1884-12-18
THE STORY OF LITTLE JOE.
HOW HE WENT FOR AID FOR THE
MINERS.
What was Contained In the FrOntiersman's
Big Bundle.
From the Chicago Herald

|
Passing through town night before
last was frontiersman who bore in his
arms a great bundle. The careless
observer on hasty glance could not
have told what it contained, so unlike
was it to anything in particular but
a collection of shawls and blankets. A
close inspection, however, would have
revealed beneath the folds the wasted
| form of child.
Sitting in the Union Depot waiting
for the train for the East, the Westerner
held his bundle carefully so that the
gaslight would not reach the lads eyes.
As he was shifting his position he said
in reply to the inquiry of bystander:
''No, he amt sick, mister. He's just
hurried. Didn't you never hear of it
Well, now, that's quar-. It was in all
the newspapers in the Black Hills
country. This here is little Joe, of the
Homestake claim. Never heard of him !?
Lemme tell you something, then, and
don't you never forget it. Will you p
Never" was the response.
'Well, sir, away back last February,
when the snow was thfee-foot deep and
the billiards was allowing, our cabin
got afire one night, and it was Just as
much as ever that we got out of it with
our lives. We were about nine miles
from Deadwood and we set out on foot
for that town. After we had gone a
ways we found that the snow was so
almighty deep that we were liable to be
stalled. There was a crust on it and
we'd break through up to our necks in
places. Only little Joe got along all
l. Il,
bag of dust, and he skinned along on
top like fly. Finally, when we couldn't
go no further in the cold and snow, he
says: You go back, boys, and keep up
the fire, and I'll be back yeer agin in
less'n twelve hours with grub and liquor,
and I'll have the boys in Deadwood
come after us Tomorrow
"God bless his little soul [ mind
Just how he looked that minute. There
want no use of one trying to go ahead,
so we let him go alone and we went
back, and heaping wood on the fire
made by our cabin tried to keep warm.
Along toward midnight we began to get
powerful hungry, and to wonder what
had become of Joe, when all Of sudden
we heard faint calling.
Its Bird some one says.
"'No, it amt says I. Its little
joe
"We listened and heard it again.
The wind was whistling almighty cold,
but there was no mistaking his voice.
Two or three of us sprang out into the
snow and made as fast as we could
toward the place where we thought the
voice came from. Pretty soon we heard
it again off to one side, and, wading
through the drifts, we found him. He
had fallen into the holes we had made
in the crust in the morning and was so
weak and stiff he couldn't get out. So
be lay there and yelled. He had grub
and liquor strapped on him, but I
picked him up in my arms and we
carried him in to the fire. Both of his
feet were frozen, and he was uncon-
scious when we took his burden off of
him. All that night we rubbed him
and cried over him, the little cuss, and
the next morning, when the boys from
Deadwood broke through with their
bosses, we loaded him up and took him
to town. The doctors had to cut off
one of his feet, but he mended rapidly
and soon got so he could sit up. This
fall we had meeting and decided that
Joe should not stay at the mine this
winter, but go East and be taken keer of
at hospital in New York, and that's
what Tn doing now. Well have him
back in the spring, and if there's any
thing in the camp he wants, it's his for
all time"