The National tribune., 1889-11-07

his view and whirled into sight of the victims
on the crest beyond.
In an instant, too, Fred Waller is in saddle,
and squirting on TO the ridge they have just left;
and then once more he reins in where he can
just peer over the crest. He notes with cheer
of joy that the charge is checked-that the
Indians have veered off aud are now dashing
in great circle around the central point on the
hight beyond. He sees
THE WILD STAMPEDE
and tangle of the mules. the overthrow Of the
ambulance; the quick, COOL resolute reply of
the attacked He marks with a glow of mad
delight, of reviving hope, that there is not a
woman or child in the party. THANK God !"
he cries aloud, "it isn't Mrs Charltonl" He
waves his hat with exultation as he sees pony
stumbling in death upon the prairie, and his
rider limping painfully away; he knows now
that these are soldiers, holding their own for
time, at least, and that all depends on getting
aid for them before nightfall. Far up the
valley on the other side he had marked at
noon dust cloud sailing slowly toward him.
Ii must be 1.-The Sorrels" or "the Grays,"
fastening back to clear the Sidney road. Here
is the thing TO do: gallop back, recrOss the
river, meet and guide them TO the rescue.
There is still time to get them hero before the
sun goes down-if only the besicged can hold
out that long.
Oue more glance ne taxes AT inc bliTTlHR
picture before him, longing 60 drive shot at
the nearest Indians, and as he gazes there comes
staggering laboring into sight from around
point of bluff beyond the belcagured party, a
horse, all foam and blood who goes plunging
70 earth only a few yards away from the am
bulsnce and rolls stffening and quiyering in
his death agony but the gray haired old rider
has leaped safely 10 the ground, and his carbne
flashed Its instant defiance at the yelling foe.
Even a Tn al diSlaDFa thRra ia N misfa king the
well-known form. Fred Walters wondering
eyes have recognized at once-his father.
Now. indeed, he speeds away for help. Now,
indeed, has Jim TO run for more than life.
Turning his back upon the thrilling scene, the
little Trumpeter goes like prairie gale, whirl-
ing back to the Valley of the Platte.
The sun is sinking behind the bluffs and its
last rays fall on llet-rddled ambulance;
on the stiiieniug bodies of half dozen slaugh-
tered aHimals-a horse and some mules; on q
grim, determined little baud Of soldiers-tw0
of them sorely wounded. The red shafts gleam
on a litter of empty cartridge shells and tinge
the canvas-top of the overturned wagon. Ont
on the rolling prairie, several hundred yards
away, the turf is dotted here and there by In
dian ponies, the innocent victims of this savage
warfare. Such Indian braves as have fallen
have long since been picked up by their raging
comrades and borne away. Despite their
numbers, never once yet have the savages man
aged TO reach the defenders Time and again
have they swooped down in charge only 70 be
met by cool, well-aimed shots that tumbled
some of their numbers 10 the turf and sent the
others veering and yelling into the old famil-
lar circle. At last they are trying the expe-
dent OF long-range shots from different points
OF the compass, hoping TO kill or cripple the
whole party by sundown. The bullets clip TIE
turf and scatter the dust all over the ridge
There is practically no shelter, for the ground
is too hard TO dig. Old
sEEG'T WALLER Is PRosTRATE
with bullet through the thigh. Col. Gaines
has bound his handkerchief tightly around his
arm. The driver lies fat on his face-dead.
Every now and then the others turn longing
eyes southwark, hoping for some sign of in
fantry coming from tho post, so many long
mile away. They know we'll that Edwards
will have levied on every wagon in Sidney 10
bring them; but not Whit OF dust-clOud do
they see. One OF the soldiers gives a low moan
aud clasps his hands to his side and Cross nut
ters between his set teeth, Five minutes more
Of this will settle it."
But what means this sudden scurry and ex-
element among the besiegersl Why do they
crowd aud clamor there at the noTth3 What
can they see over that ridge beyond the little
streamI Presently Others join them. Then
more and more. Then there are who0ps of
rage: a lew iIl-aimed scattering shots. Three
or four Of the red men ride daringiy, taunt-
ingiy down, as though 10 resume the attack.
and shout vile epitheis in yilcst English in re-
spOnse to the shots with which they are greeted,
aud then they, too, go riding away. Lie
down, you idiots ~ yells Capt. Cross 10 the two
soldiers who would spring up 10 cheer; bat
moment more aud even the wounded wave
their feeble hands and join in the triumphant
shout. The ridge Is cleared Of every vestige of
the foe. The warriors go speeding away east
ward toward the Platte Far out over the prai-
RE 20 the northeast a troop OF blue horsemen
are driving in pursuit and, over the neigbbOr-
ing crest. come half dozen friendly forms
and faces. squirting their foam-1ecked horses
in the race.
Look up. Sergeant. look up. old man.
Here's Fred himself! Didn't tell you he Was
no deserter?" 1t is Cross's voice, and 10 Is
Cr0sss strong arm that lifts the wondering,
trembling veteran 10 his feet. The young fell
low has leaped from his horse and is sprnging
toward them. With wondrous look Of relief,
Of inexpressible joy. Of gratitude beyond all
words, Of almost Heaven born rapture ming
ling with the sunshine in his old face. the Ser
geant stretches forth both his trembling arms
and cries aloud, Ny boy my boy!"
Ito be ooHffHuedJ