San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1888-05-15

had his being, Mr.. Thomas Perkins, IN
whom this great government of our was
so intensely interested.
The next thing was to make the neces-
sary preparations. l made them. In the
morning by the bright light, of a beauti-
full winters day, stout wagon, drawn by
two sturdy and reflective mules, was
drawn up in front of the village hotel,
which was very appropriately named
THE Delmonico." On the front seat was
my negro driver and pilot, Bill. On the
rear seat sat the writer. Under blanket
ut my feet was Winchester rife and a
double barreled shot gun well loaded with
buckshot, although was oppressed with
narrowing doubt as to whether l hadn't
put the buckshot in first. In the pocket
of my overcoat was Smith & Wesson
double action sixty eight, and in the breast
pocket of my inner coat bowie knife that
had once belonged to Texas evangelist.
A curious crowd had gathered to see me
off. They knew my mission, though none
of them knew who 1 was after. They
cheered me with novel suggestions and
well meant advice. 81 say, Cap" said
one, "ye'd better take bottle of whisky
erlong wi you. There amt no barroom
whar you're goin.
My driver looked approvingly at this
speaker.
HE won't look very pretty comm back
here with furrer driv cl'ar through his
chist, will he?" said another.
'Twouldnt do fer him to go out bar
huntin' at night with that red nose shin
in, would hit?'
That last remark hurt my vanity. My
nose was rather red, but it come from an
undue partiality for stewed tomatoes, not
from any other cause.
"When you fire at him, Cap, watch that
off mules hind leg, fer he's goin' ter
kick" said a long, lank Teller on the out
skirts of the crowd.
Even the negroes had something to say.
Approaching me with Difference, one Of
them whispered to me confdentially:
"Boss, ye'd best tie dat fool niger
what's drivin' ter the seat, fer soon's he
hears cap pop he's gwine ter jump out
an run like de debil."
of the whip and away we went. For two
miles out we had good roads. After that,
the toughest and worst that had over
seen. Stumps, tangled roots, hills, gull.
lies, swamp, corduroy, and the county
commissioners know what else, made a
regular panacea for the twin evils of dys-
pepsia and love, according to the jolting
81 ~ hox
ness, a solemn, awful silence, broken
only by the tramping of the mules, the
creaking of the wagon and the hiccoughs
Of the driver, who was about half drunk
when we started. 1t was a pine wilder
ness, with the underbrush all gone, no
song of bird no scent of flower, no futter
of insect life, a strange, dreary desert of
forest. Here were majestic trees aged
with century of growth. Gazing at their
stately tops, one could well imagine that
in days agone, perhaps under the very
trees we were passing, ''Lo, the poor In
dian, had once assembled to shake dice
to see who should pay for the beer.
l was absorbed in these meditations
when the wagon ran into a huge stump
and away l went sailing out into space.
The shot gun about this time decided that
it was tired of riding and came along also.
Neither of US were hurt, and we resumed
our seats in the wagon, the gun rather
unwillingly I thought.
We were now getting near the camp of
the enemy and rather curious sensation
took possession of me. Of course it was
not fear, but my heart evinced curious
disposition to desert it's pericardium and
homestead the lower portion of my throat.
cooked both the rifle and the shot gun,
placing them sideways in the wagon to
satisfy the manifest uneasiness of the
driver. The revolver took out and placed
on the seat by me, covering it with a
superabundance of coat tail. The knife
loosened in it's sheath. About half a
mile further on saw approaching one of
the most villainous looking men had
ever seen. He was of negro blood. nearly
white, of herculean frame, and if not a
born criminal and assassin, should have
had his face indicted for malicious libel
He carried glittering ak on his shoulder
and eyed me insolently.
The driver turned around with wins.
per, OATS him, boss"
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