The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1884-06-25
FOR OUR LIVES.

FOR OUR LIVES.
With few exceptions. the guides and
scouts Of Arizona are brave and uprlSht,
though rough; men whom you could no
more hire, or persuade, to do a mean or
cowardly act, than You could induce
them 10 sell their favoritc horse or rifle.
This strange country, with its rocky
RANGES, deserts. and scores of canons and
masses, is to them q wcll-lcarned lesson;
they are familiar with every trail, know
the location of the springs, or water-holeS,
can tell you where the best grass Is to DC
found, and in case OF en- Apache raid are
indispensable.
I During my s%ojourn in the Territory a
few years ago, | had occasion to employ
one of the scouts. Dave White by name,
on several occasions, and found him an
invaluable companion. He could explain
every curling wreath of smoke on the
horizon: he could tell how long a trlll
had been made and by whom, he new
every Indian haunt, and woe to the red
skin on whom he drew q bead. sold
Skiro.n as he had named his rifle, was
never known to miss its mark, and
"Adelante," his horse. was as fleet
as the wind when her master gave the
word ego"
One beautiful autumn morning, in the
fall of 1871. Dave and myself started to
ride from the rancho at Apache Pass 10
the overland mail station. on the San
Cimon, a distance of twenty-five orthlrty
miles.
Threading our way slowly down the
vast canon OF the Pass through the noun
tains, where huge rocks, hundreds OF feet
high, lowered above us on either hand
their iutting, moss-grown sides filling the
gorge with a strange, somber gloom-l
could not dispel from my mind a certain
sense of danger. Ugly stories and ru-
mors of Indian attacks were then COM
mon. So strong an impression had
they made upon me that l finally sad:
''Dave, l believe we are going to have
trouble before we get through to-day
"Trcuble".' replied Dave. "Ha! ha.
ha! as though we weren't always havin'
trouble! Yer haint scared, be We, doc
torl"
He laughed SO loudly that the rocks
above us caught the sound, and echoed
a dozen s~tartlingly distinct ha! ha! has.
The effect was 50 uncanny that could
scarcely believe but that a band of saw
ages were mockingly repeating our rash
notes of levity. Again l asked Dave #
we might not do we'll to postpone this
trip till the following week. The scout
refined in his horse, and squaring himself
in his saddle, looked Inc full in the face.
- "Now look ahere, DOCTOR" he said;
"ef yer afe red, we'll turn back; ef not,
we'll reach the San Cimon, unless old
Skiro and Adclante fail me-
I could only protest that l was not
afraid, but cautious, at which suggestion
Dave merely v%ouchsafcd a him" of
incrcdulitv, and spurred his horse into 4
brisk canter.
After two or three miles of riding, we
left the rocky Businesses Of the pass, and
thence proceeded for six or eight miles
further across the plain, where scarcely a
mound or a bush breaks the dead level
as far as the eye can see. My fear OF
danger was gonc or forgotten, while
was listening to one of Dawes stories OF
adventurc-when suddenly he turned his
head, and looking over his shoulder, cX-
claimed, ''Thunder." in a voice that
sent every drop of blood surglng back to
my heart.
Well l knew what such an eXclama-
ton from his lips meant; and the sight
which met my eyes, as | glanced behind
,,n ,.oo mot on ngs,,rInrr nnn NrnrnIIS =.
mile away, and coming at full speed,
were eight or nine ADachcS.
They had probably followed us through
the Pass.
saw Dave look anxiously at my horse.
1t was a large, powerful animal. possessed
of endurance, but not not much speed.
"Too big odds for this ere open plain,
so it's q ride for our lives Dave said,
quietly.
The San Cimon was nearly ten miles
away! Could we reach it2 asked Dave
the question as coolly us l could.
1--WE We got to-" was his only reply.
"Come on now. Settle yerself well in
yer saddle. doctor. lean a little for'ard,
foller the motion of yer horse, and give
him the spups!"
Give him the spurs / did; for l felt
that our only safety depended upon the
speed | could get out of the animal.
Both animals seemed to feel how much
depended upon their efforts. and to be
quite as ANXIOUS to escape the fate IN
store for them, if captured. as did we,
their riders. Every hurried word we
spoke and every nervous carcss we gave
them seemed to inspire them with fresh
life. Yet in spite of it all we appeared
but to creep over the plain; and another
hasty glance over my shoulder told me
but too plainly that the redskins were
gaining on us.
The wrctches had uncommonly fine
h~orscs-the choicest Of all those stolen
and captured by them both in Arizona
and Northern Mexico. | saw, too, that
Dave was holding Alicante in, while my
horse was making his utmost efforts.
On, on we rode. Dawes face was a
study, as with compressed lips and
flashing eyes, he watched every mo-
ton of my horse, as though
his life. not mine, depended upon
his exertions. Occasionally, he gave an
uneasy look behlnu, tnen lOr"arQ to"aTu
the long line Of scrubby mrsquit which
marked the course of the San Cimon
where the station was. At length he
turned toward me. his face no longer
anxious, but full of determination, and
said in a low, r~esolute voice
"We shan't make it, but we'll ride as
long as we can, then turn loose on 'em
with our revolvers. Keep your boss we'll
in hand don't let him stumble"
Before I realized what he was doing.
Dave wheeled, and bringing Adelante
up with a force that almost threw the
animal upon its launches, faced the In
dams. l heard the crack of his rifle,
next minute he was beside me again.
fetched one of 'em! Give me your
rifle and load this, said Dave, hurriedly.
The exchange was soon made. / spoke
to my horse, at the same time sinking the
spurs deep into his foam-flecked sides;
for a few moments we seemed fairly to
fv over the hard ground-each moment
bringing us nearer the station, which was
now not more than two miles away.