The weekly messenger., 1889-07-20
The RANCHMAN'S WIFE
BY FRANK II. CONVERSE.

you boys would get tired of hearing o!
Indians and all that sort ofthing. Well,
let me think minute.
Your Aunt Bess isn't anywhere round,
! is She: No: For she isn't over fond OF
Indian, or Indian stores-and with good
/ reason.
I Il was way back in the seventies. ]
lit;cd out at Fort Ca>par, N New Mexi-
co, and started off alone, fur trapping
up among The foot hills.
Tie told me was crazy to venture
50 far. rs the Indians were thicker than
flies all through the section of country
where was going: bu, was used to
taking chances in those days, and game
was wonderfully plenty round the Gila
ranges. so started Off
Well, reached the southern foot hills
all right, without seeing a sign of red
skin. But for all that, | didn't get
careless. used bow and arrows.
with which | was quite expert in those
days, to kill what game l wanted. rather
than run any risk of attracting the no.
tice of any prowling Apache by a rifle
shot. was very lucky with my trap
ping, and in about three weeks had u
mule load of pelts. with which started
back toward the fort.
The second day of my journey brought
me to the bottom lands in the finest sec =
tion of grazing country ever saw. A
branch of the Gila river wound along
for miles like blue ribbon, through
buffalo grass half way to the horses
knees, while on every side there was
willow and cottonwood enough to sup
ply fuel for the biggest kind of settle
mcnt.
rode slowly along, with my pack
mule plodding few PAGES behind, think
ing. as well remember. that | should
like nothing better than to have nice
little ranch of my own in those parts,
and settle down there.
All at once from behind there came
yell-or, rather. chorus of them
such as man. no matter how much
courage he may have. doesn't care to
hear more than once in a lifetime.
Cnslinging my rifle and turning in
my saddle at one and the same time.
saw score or more of mounted Indians
coming up at full speed, whooping and
yelling like SO many tiends.
Of course there was but the one thing
to do. My horse was tolerably fast and
in good condition. 1t was late in the
afternoon, and if l could keep well
ahead of my pursuers, l might hope to
escape them under cover of the night.
Leaving the pack mule and peltries
10 their fate, gave old Reno his head,
and then began race for life or death.
For an hour | seemed to gain little by
little. Then poor Reno began to flag,
while the Indian ponies, lashed to their
highest speed, drew nearer and nearer. l
swung half round and dropped big
"buck" with my Winchester at a hun
dred yards as neatly as you please, but
so TO speak-this was only drop in
the bucket. On came the rest with
tiercer cries and moro h:dcous wells. ac-
companicd by a fusilladc from their car
bineS, is well as by some half dozen ar
rows, one Of which wen. fairly through
my right forearm Just below the elbow.
The pain was such for the moment that
my fingers relaxed their grasp, and NV
rifle fell to the ground, leaving NE. en-
cept for hunting knife, practically un-
armed, as, unfortunately, on the day be-
fore | had broken the main spring of nv
revolver.
IN die hard if lie must" NUT
tered, getting hold Of my knife with nv
LEFT hand, for M right had all at once
become almost uSc.c>s-some nerve or
cord hIying been severed by the sharp