Press and daily Dakotaian. (Yankton, Dakota Territory [S.D.]) 1880-1889, 1886-05-04
AND THUS IS vALoR WON.

Three Troopers Riding Across the Prairie
- score of Hiaeous, PARTED Faces.
An old army officer fold a reporter the
following story in language that seemed
inspired and which can not be reproduced:
A bitiowy sea of grass rising and falling
like the waves of III isea, swayed by the
wind. A great yellow ball of fire above,
and beneath nnthing but the prairie.
East, west, north, ana south naught but
this great, level plain. From the east
blows IL soft wind carrying with it the
echoes Of horses hoof. Three troopers ride
into sight, bsonzed, bearded fellows, in
dusty uniforrqs, III which the golden but
tons shine out like stars. They chat mer-
rily as their horses plod along, talking on
this and that with little care for aught
around them.
The corporal, forgetful of hissrank, twits
his colnrade private on the girl left far
| away ut home. The latter fiushes under
! the bronze OF his face, but makes 80 re-
| ply. The second private huns a bar OF
Bonnie DOOM at which the other two
laugh and the corporal retorts with a line
of Were Three jolly Good Fellows" The
mems voices sound finely or the sum
mcr air, and the goadej steeds quicken
| their pace untler such cheering influences.
A rabbit goes scurrying across their
path, prairie hens rise in angry wrath,
great, Shiny whipsnakes cross and recross
their trail-but they have no eyes for such
as these. The sunshine, the beauty OF the
scene, the shy caress of the wind, have
| intoxicated them, and, except a song or
two or a word Of home, they say nothing.
Suddenly the horses start forward with
q nervous plunge, then fali backon their
launches in terror. To the right and the
left Of the troopers, circliug around them,
rise a score of lideots. painted savage
faces. They rise from the screen of the
long, dank grasses like demons exercised
from the grave. Notaword i ssaid IN either
side for IN instant, then the long-drawn,
chilling war whoop rings out from twenty
throats. At the sound, The corporal, mar
to the last, srasps his sabre, and, with a
yell, charges the devils ahead of him.
His comrades are by his side. Gut
slash" here and there, the sharp cracks of
pistols, death gurgtes and low groanscom-
mingle, and then all is still.
Three riderless horses gallop away to
the west. The saddle of one is drenched
with blood. Hidden by the whispering,
t~reacherous grasses three forms clad in
blue lie, with faces turned up to the sky.
The corporal's face is distorted with
wrath; the private whose blush came so
quick lay as il asleep, al arrow in his
breast. He Who sang @Bonny Doom" was
slashed through and through, an ugly
!. corpse. The wind murmured as sweetly
70 them as it had half an hour before; the
sun was just as bright; the air as. fresh;
but they were beyond it all. Twenty red
devils, with hands drenehed in blood,
!, crept swiftly away, like snakes, leaving nc
trace behind but their work. Three cold
still faces saw night come on, welcomed
the stars and greeted the sun at its rising
night after night, day after day, yeai
after y%ear-until there was naught but 6
handful of bones, q rusty saber handle
: the vizot of. q soldiers cap to mark the
). spot. Such is q soldiers death, and thus
is valor won.-St. Paul Pioneer-Press.