Wessington Springs herald. (Wessington Springs, Aurora County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1891, 1888-05-18
THE NIGHT sTAMPEDE.
A CO,Ub0y's Thrilling Shetch Of the Cattle
Hex1e,ss Eer;ls,


"First guard till 49," called the Cap
tain, with the addition: "Better take
your slickers, boys; looks like rain. !"
Three men rose from the fire, stretched
and yawned, and picking their slickers
from their respective beds, slouched
away into the darkness, their clinking
spurs sounding fainter and more indis-
tinct in the distance. A low murmur
as they handled their staked horses, 3
few hoof-beats, and the guard, half q
mile away, are saluted with three
laconic "relief good-night," and the
new guard are riding slowly around the
bedded cattle.
Eleven o'clock, and the black clouds
are nearly overhead, while the flying
skirmishers of scud dart across the
heavens, the advance line of the army
behind. The bulls are on their feet,
going among the recumbent ones and
horning them till they rise. The thun-
der speaks moro sharply and bright
flashes of lightning turn the black mass
into gray, ragged and torn with the
effort to hold its warning factions A
few big drops that sting the castle into
motion, q rattling crash of heavens ar
tillery, and the fiood-gates of wrath are
opened, the deluge let loose. The warm
stream of cattle becomes phosphores-
cent with electricity and metanor-
phoses the cattle into prehistoric non
strosities, while the guards, in their
yellow slickers, look like grote,aue
phantoms as they fit around the surg
ing mass that commences to overflow at
one side as surely as it is crowded sack
on the other. Back and around ride
the three men, crowding and fo.cing
the unruly herd, that is fairly aching to
break and scatter anywhere, every
where, to escape the raging furies
above and aroundi it. A rafting crash
and pillar of flame strikes the west
side of the herd and settlers the
| question.
With one mighty cry of terror the
panic-stricken mass surged to tie op-
posite side. The living sea has b.oken
its frail bounds and is pouring fourth,
in the terrible fury of fear, HON rat
thing against horn, crowding, Slipping,
trampling, and crushing, but flying as
only stampeded cattle can. Side by
side with the head of the ra,e the
guards, urging their little ponie, with
voices and heel, leaning forward and
painting with their eagerness to go
faster. On, on, over gullies and prairie
dog holes, scarcely seeming to rely
upon their feet, so little do they regard
these death-traps, the faithful little
horses are carrying their riders, Indian
file, with tie first one racing neck and
neck with the foremost long horned
pilgrim.
A moment thus and the riders pistol
sends stream of fire hurting about
six inches in front of the steers nose
and directly across his path. AS the
steer swerves to one side the flying
pony tumbles, horse and rider gre
hurled in front of those laundering
hoofs as the herd goes rolling on. The
next rider is now racing neck-and. meek,
in the first ones place, and once more
spiteful, belching stream of fire
| against the leaders nose turns them,
followed by another and another, that
swings the foremost ones clear around
and faces the herd into itself, bewilder-
ing and milling in slowing circle, and
the stampede is stopped.
The two guards left know there is
small hope of any relief finding them
now before daybreak, but as the herd
! quiets down one rides back and finds
their lost mate and his pony, and then
the two take up their lone, weary task
together. The clouds pass away, the
air is chillier and the long hours drag
and creep along. A twitter of a prairie
sparrow to his mate. soft perfumed
breeze from the east, and then the long
! quivering lances of the suns advance
| guard glisten above the eastern hori-
zon. And following these outriders
come the heralds of the god of day to
waken the world to welcome his COM
ing. The two wet and thoroughly
chilled guards hail his coming with in
finite delight, while the feathered
choristers make the whole air vibrate
to their musical welcome.
But two miles away lies one who will
never welcome his coming more. The
loving fingers of the sunshine kiss
the brown hair and white set face and
caress gently the cruelty bruised body.
The hat has fallen off, but the cold
fingers of his right hand still hold his
pistol, while his left still clinch the
reins connecting him with his faithful
pony, whose one misstep cost both so
dearly.
THE WITT Y PE.AS-1sg md THE A.
PRECt-A'IYE SHAH
According to Mr.. Cox, @there is
scarcely family in Turkey, which has
the means, that does not possess