Mexico weekly ledger., 1885-09-10
RECKLESS JEFF'S SHOT.
A Southern Frontier Tragedy.

a southern
was crossing the military plaza
this morning, working my way SLOW
ly through the crowd of Chilli con-
car1ae, tamale and tortiHa peddlers,
when q hand has laid Familiarity on
my shoulder, and turning quickly 1
came face to face with my old friend
and f~ellow-scout, Mad Milton" We
parted from each other four years
ago over the grave of two dear friends
who will be remembered along the
Southwestern Frontier as Reckless
Jeff and Broncho BERTHE. Late in
the winter of 80 Jeff and I were
members of a raiding party that
penetrated the Businesses of the
Mountains of Death, in search of a
family of cow and horse-thieves
named Taylor. The scattered rem
nants of Chief Victories band were
lurking about that section of country
then, awaiting an opportunity to
cross the Death Plain to q more Sc
cure hiding-place in the Sierra Dia-
bolo. And We were continually find
ing fresh signs as we slowly trailed
the COW thieves to their mountain
camp. One morning we entered a
little canyon, through which ran a
stream of water. About midway
down the canyon, on the bank of the
run, the scout in advance made a
horrible discovery and we rode quick
ly to his side. The three Taylor
boys, whom we were in search OF,
and a Mexican vanquero had been
ambushed and killed by the Indians
and their stiffened bodies, bloody
and scalpless, lay across the trail.
They had been killed during the pre-
vious night and the cayotes had not
yet scented them out. And their
arms and their ponies had been car
ried away by their murderers-
We hastily dug a shallow grave
with our hunting knives on the bank
of the creek and buried them side by
side. Then continuing or we crossed
the next divide and reached their
camp in a canyon similar to the one
we had just left. The Indians had
taken a nearly opposite direction,
climbing the other wall of the can
yon.
The camp of the outlaws was q
rude affair, consisting of a small
tent, a camp fire, a brush corral and
a heavy wagon. Several head of pc.
mics and COWS were grazing in the
canyon and the sergeant commanding
our party ordered several of the boys
to round up the stock, while he dis
mounted and inspected the camp.
Just as he was about to lift the fly OF
the tent a shrill treble voice, which
came from the direction of the brush
corral, cried
"Say, thar, mister man, thet's my
tent. Keep out'n hit"
We all turned at sound of the voice
and the q~ueerest little girl, in dress
of faded calico, bare-headed and
bare-footed, crept from under The
corral gate and walked towards US
She was not above seven years o.
age and she had the shrewdest face
and brightest eyes imaginable.
"Keep out'n tibet tent" she re
peated, walking towards the ser
geant, "Hit's mine, l tell ye."
"And who might you be?.' asked
the sergeant, smiling and dropping
the tent flap.
@I'm Broncho Berti," was the quicl
answer and she tossed her head sau
ely. ''Leastways thet's what thu
boys call me-"
"And who are the boys?"
"My buddy's, Jim, Bill and Dan
Ye all know 'em well enuf, an
know you you're rangers an if yo'
think you'll git the boys, yer left
They're out yonder in the mounting
an they'll shoot quickr'n a wink"
We crowded about the little nader
and one of the boys, in as tender ant
simple words as he could command
told her of her bereavement. Sh'
didn't shed many tears, but a grea
lump that rose in her throat wa
swallowed with difficulty and he
shrill voice softened and tremblet
when she spoke.
81 knowed they'd git lsde gu
some day." she said, shaking he
head m%ournfully, "but hits bette
that away than to be drapped b,
you'ns."
She peered into the face of ever,
man and finally, stepping to the sid
of Reckless jeff, laid her brown han.
in his.
II like yer looks" she said, San
I'll go with you
We took her back to camp and o.
the road she taught us several lesson
that set the men to thinking. W,
were q pretty rough lot and whel
one man for some trifing cause be
gan to curse she raised her SINAI
hand warningly and said:-
aye mustn't cuss. 'Tain't perlit
when ladies' is about, an hits wicked
too"
When we made camp that nigh
Broncho BERTHE ate her supper in 81
lence and when one of the boy
,prool eo~o hlopGafs and toll hor i,