The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1889-06-14

A True Story Of Dakota.
fnenyer Commonwealth
DY II. w. MlLLIKEN.

The blizzard was over. All the two pre-
ceding days and nights it had shrieked and
ragged increasingly. hurting the needle-like
snow in binding fury against the sturdy
ranch buildings, and piling huge drifts to
the roofs. Every object that had offered a
check to the wild sweep Of the storm had be-
come transformed into glttering mound Of
hard packed snow. The lifeline" still
hung as it had been strung at the beginning
of the storm, as guide from house to barn,
distance Of less than hundred yards, and
in ordinary weather traced by well defined
path. But those who have experienced the
terrible force OF one of Dakota's mid-winter
billiards, the "shacker," farmer and ranch
man all know that journeys even shorter,
attempted without the friendly guidance of
the so-called lifeline" have stretched into
many weary miles, and ofttimes ended in
death. Our friends at Monument Ranch"
were not new to the land and its driving
snow, and had early in the storm made every
preparation necessary for safety and COM
fort. The big iron. box-shaped Trojan
was kept roaring within almost as loudly as
the storm without, and the household kept
close to its noisy warmth nor yentured
out but twice during the progress of the
storm to attend to the needs of the dumb
occupants of the stable. On this. the morn
ing after the storm, the sun shone bright and
warm, smiling down upon a wilderness of
white, creating dazzle that would put the
most sparkling Of precious stones to shame.
In the valley the snow lay deep and but little
drifted as compared with that on. the prairie,
and spots of bare ground marked the stage
road that wound along under the bluffs from
Fort Yates to Medicine Rock" and which
the sweeping wind had cleared. The scene
about the ranch that morning was busy
one. All hands were hard at work with
shovels and breaklng-teams, clearing paths
through piled-up snow to barn, corrals and
'root-house," breaking paths for the half
hundred head of complaining cattle which
were blockaded in the long row Of sheds to
the west of the barn, and had tasted neither
food nor drink since the storm began, and
attending to the wants of the occupants of
the barn. Two of the boys were "saddling
up" at the barn door. preparatory to a visit
to the herd out on the range. Down by the
corner of the water-corral, gazing ruefully
down at the wreck of the windmill, which
and now lay smashed and distorted ruin
at its base. stood the proprietor, young
man, whose attitude showed him tr be con-
siderably disturbed over the accident to his
water supply. Tall, five feet eleven in his
stockings, broad-shouldered and muscular, a
head of close-cropped brown hair, and
sweeping brown moustacne, the eyes that
looked from under the broad brim of the hat
were Of the ''honest gray" kind, that inspire
confidence and liking when they meet your
own so fearless and SO true. And, indeed,
their owner was liked and trusted all up and
down the broad Missouri, wherever known
just now the expression on the handsome
face was not of the happiest, for Charlie
Warren well knew that with his windmill
disabled. and the river half mile away and
covered with two feet or more of ice, the
question of water for stock was a serious
one. He pushed the hat back from his brow,
with muttered imprecation on billiards in
general and this one in particular, and
turned toward the two men ''cinching up"
by the barn-door.
"Ol Jake!"
The man addressed Strengthened up, and
throwing the ''slicker' he had been rolling
up over the back of the saddle. shouted back
"Hi!' by way of answer.
you and Teddy" called Warren as he
approached, 'had better go out to the herd
tomorrow. We're going to have a tough job
getting water, till l can fix up the mill, and
We'll need all hands here"
Jake, who had been looking down the
river bottom as Warren approached, makes
no reply, but lifts his hat of muskrat skins,
and holding 1t before his eyes as a shade
from the glare Of the snow, stands intently
gazing down the valley. A moment he
stands thus, then, without moving his eyes
from the object which claimed his attention.
says, slowly, as Warren reaches his side:
Say, Cap, sump'n's up sure. Here comes
durn nigh the hull er Primers outfit" then,
quicker: BLESSED If they amt female
wiz 'em."
Warren, at his first words, had wheeled,
and is looking down the valley, mile or
more away, where several objects meet his
eye. growing rapidly more distinct. Riding
at full speed, plunging through the drifts
and Gathering over the bare places, come
group OF riders, and with paling cheek
Warren notes that one is woman.
Something is up" he mutters. Then
turning quickly to the nearest Of the two
ponies standing by. he swings into the saddle,
and goes plunging off to meet the rapidly
approaching party, shouting back to the two
men as he goes:
Saddle up; we're wanted
Jake aud his companion jump for the
horse-corral, calling to the other men as
they run. The Buckingham is left stand
ing In the snow, shovels are dropped, ponies
caught and saddles thrown on, with that
celebrity which is part of the cowboys
training, so that when Primer and his five
men come gathering up the path to the barn,
each man stands ready to mount and ride
for life. As Warren draws near the riders
he has come to meet. his eager gaze rests
upon the second in the line, for they are rid
ing in Indian file, and his heart gives
mighty throb of fear as he recognizes the
familiar forms of the little black pony, his
gift, and its rider.
"Sue! he gasps to himself; then grows
strong again, as the comforting thought
comes to him. whatever it is, she is safe.
The foremost rider in the line was "Old
Prit" himself, who drew in his big roam as
the young man drew near, but had only
time to whisper, hoarsely, "Her sister amt
turned up since Monday" and she had
Joined them. As the little black came plung-
Ing up to them, scattering the snow to the
right and left In bis eager leaps, Warren
slipped from his saddle, and ran to the side
OF the half fainting rider
WHAT'S 1t, Sue?" he cried, what has
happened"
"MattieP gasped the girl; ''she is lost"
ending in sob that rendered the last word
unintelligible.
Warren did not comprehend but saw that
some terrible grief had overcome his sweet.
heart, and he wanted to be alone with her.
He turned to Pritner, who had dismounted.
and was busy with his saddle, his men
grouped near on their horses.
: "Pritner, you and your men ride on up to
the house. Miss Ady and will be along in
few minutes"
With Come on. boys" Primer swung
on TO his horse, ard, followed by his men,
scurried off toward the ranch.
The girls pony, which had been standing
with dropping head and heaving sides after
the ride OF eight miles up the snow-drifted
valley. started forward to follow it's retreat
ing companions, but Warren's hand fell nm
on the bridle-rein, lying loose upon the an.
iEaais meek, and checked the pony, which
sto0d still, and with pointed ears gazed after
the group now rapidly nearing the ranch.
Inc girl WAS SOObing yinpntlv har mood