The Louisiana Democrat. [volume] (Alexandria, La.) 1845-1918, 1889-09-11

wild, mad GallOp 10 winch Lam
O'Shantnrs was but slow trot.
The air was filed with driving sand,
alkali dust, grass torn up by the roots
with wild fowl and birds even swept
with resistless force by the wings Of
the wind storm.
Past horse and rider, despite their
furious pace, dashed the shadowy
forms of antelope and elk-of cattle
and wild mustangs.
All at once his flying steed plunged
downward through the darkness, and
in another instant stood quivering and
painting in the bed of a dry water
course.
Overhead the blizzard Numbered
and roared, but here at least was
shelter from the blast. Yet even here
the very earth was tremulous with the
appalling power of the blizzard, which
nothing but a typhoon in the China
sea can approach in intensity.
1t was the longest night that he ever
passed, but the gray, murky day-dawn
came, and with it a gradual subside nee
of the blow. AS his eyes accustomed
themselves to the dim light, he saw
that flock of antelope had taken
refuge not far distant, and SO thorough
ly cowe9 by the storm that they did
not seem to mind his presence.
But to what avail the thought of
antelope steak for breakfast. His
pistol went off, literally, in his saddle
holster, while his haversack, contain
ing matches, pepper. salt and, alas!
his pocket-compass, had followed his
wide-brimmed sombrero.
Leading his pony up out of the water
course, Dick for the first time began
to realize his more-than-unpleasan
position. Though the blizzard had
subsidized to an ordinary mountain
blow, the sun, and even its dim where
abouts, was hidden under murk of
cloud. The location of the points OF
the compass were as insolvable prob.
lem to him as the differential calculus.
Mounting, Dick allowed the pony to
take his own course with a vague hope
that instinct might lead him to water.
And chance or instinct or both turned
the pony's steps toward q distant range
of bluffs behind which rose what might
or might not be McLary's range.
Toward nightfall, Dick and the pony
pricked up their ears as the far away
popping of rifles came family to them.
That the reports were made by the
guns of some hunting party Dick was
| assured in his own mind. He heard
more or less concerning occasional
raids made by playful Apaches on
white settlers in the more remote sec.
tions. but regarded them as exaggera.
tions. Indeed Dick was rather in.
clined to regard Lo as an abused and
much-maligned individual.
So he pressed his pony forward with
what speed he might in the direction
of the distant shots, which, however
had ceased long before he reached ;
belt of cottonwood and willow firing.
ing stream that flowed down from 8
detile in the rocky sleeps which rose
barrier-like, before the mountain slopes
But-what is this? Behind a spur o.
the bluff an overturned mule Wagon
with the canvass-covering cut into
slitstf Four dead mules in the traces
two with Threats slit from ear to ear
The ground, torn up and trampled as in
a conflict, was strewn with broker
boxes and canned provision tins-with
stores laid wantonly waste. with
And here Dick Prater began to fee
sick and faint Death he had seen in
its usual form like most men. But
death by violence-mutilated after
such fashion, as only fiendish ingenuity
could conceive, never-sent thrill Of
horror through the young mans
healthy, vigorous frame.
One, two, three, four dead whites
lay stretched. with ghostly uniformity
side by side! Three were presumably
Mexicans--the fourth a gray-bearded
guide in Il well-worn hunting suit AL
had been scalped us matter of course.
But the further atrocities perpetrated