Weekly expositor. (Brockway Centre, Mich.) 1882-1894, 1889-06-20
POETRY DAN"
BY S. d. BARNES.

talin' the scalps Of old chaps that fall
in their traps
/ refined up my horse sharply, and
surveyed the speaker with consider
able surprise. For ten years l had
been tolerably we'll acquainted with
the various types Of frontiersmen to
be met with on the prairie; broad-brim-
med sombreros and buckslkin suits
were no novelties to me; neither were
long-haired plainsmen; but there was
something about this specimen that
struck my fancy as peculiar. Accord
ingly, l favored him with a comprehen-
Sive stare.
Survey me with care, from my toes
TO my hair" he remarked mildly.
LET no bashfulness cause hesitation.
I'm Poetry Dan, and I'll lick the first
man that kicks at my versification.
My rhymes may appear to your uncul-
tured ear, TO be lackin' in music and
metre, but don't you refuse ter brag on
my muse-unless that ye have one
thatll beat her."
There was not twinkle in the cold
gray eye-not a shadow OF u smile
about the bearded lip, to indicate any
attempt at righteousness on the part of
the speaker. He sat squarely in his
saddle, directly before me, our horses
noses almost touching, and spoke easily
and fiuently. emphasizing his speech
with graceful gestures.
Eyer boss is wet with foam an
sweat. You've travelled in a hurry,
an troubles trace is in yer face-say,
stranger, what's yer worry? Perhaps
the poet of the plains can give yer aid
and succOr. So tell yer sorrows an
yer pains 10 Dan-but not Dan Tucker"
As it happened, was ready and
willing to comply with his kind re-
quest. was indeed in a "peck of
trouble" and an offer of aid from any
source was not to be despised or re-
fused.
The case was this: l was en- route
from Fort Sill, in the Indian Territory,
to the scattering settlements on the
head of the Red river in New Mexico,
and, although l had started alone,
was now travelling in company with a
family OF emigrants whom | had over
taken on the eastern line of the Texas
panhandle"
For the last three days we had logged
along together, making as good speed
as possible and keeping an eye open
for the wandering bands of Indians
that infested this region, and were la
BILE to cut our journey short at any
moments; but SO far we had been sin
gularly lucky, inasm uch as not a single
redskin had appeared on the scene.
In 10 dnNF nf fns NyIt
Poetry Dan our first bad luck had be-
fallen us. We had halted to eat dim
ner in the outskirts of n little grove.
| Our horses were turned loose TO fill
their lank sides on the luxuriant grass.
A fire was built and coffee boiled, and
our little party had drawn around the
frugal repast, when it was suddenly
discovered that one OF the number was
missing. Little Rose-the youngest of
| four children, and my especial pet
had disappeared.
Thinking she had merely wandered
few rods from the camp, we called
her, but failed TO receive an answer.
/ Separating. we secured the forest and
/ prairie for half mile around, but
| found no trace of the missing child;
| poor little Rose had mysteriously
vanished, and, though had been rid
ing hither and thither for the past four
hours in every direction in which
there was any possibility Of her stray
! ing, all my search had been in vain.
/ related all this TO the parsonage
who had introduced himself as Poetry
Dan, and could see by the expression
of his face and a suspicion OF moisture
/ l., III no he, fa14 IN hot -
interest in the fate of the lost child.
THE maid was fair as the birds of
the air." he commented, as | finished
my relation; IAN gay as the flowers of
the plain, but she wandered away in
the broad light OF day, an her ma
couldn't find her again. She never got
drowned, for thar want any water.
She never flew off, for wings she had
none. She was cotched by the Injuns
yes, pore little daughter-she was
nabbed by some ugly, red son of a
gun"
listened with sad apprehensions to
this conclusion, coinciding as it did
with my belief. Unless some sl1ulking
marauder had stolen the child, there
was no possible way of accounting for
her disappearance.
Poetry Dan, with an air of sudden
resolution, glanced at the fast waning
sun, and drew his sombrero down more
firmly over his eyes.
eyer say yer stopped ter rest with
the prairie on the west, while eastward
lay the forests pleasant shade? Why,
fool who had the brains ter run for
shelter when it rains. ought ter know
Jest whar ter find the little maid
He pulled his horse sharply around.
and, with gesture indicating that /
should follow, dashed away to the east
ward, reeling off rhyme after rhyme
in his quaint manner, keeping time to
the music of his horses feet with an
interminable poetical peroration, part
ly addressed to me, and partly to him
self
"Come on, IL yer gritty. for Poetry
Dan never rides by the side Of q cow
ardly man. A chap can lack sand an
still shine az beau, but out in the
west, it takes courage TO go; an we'll
find, I'm a-thinkin', by dark or before,
use for our courage, and twice as
much more. Law me, won't old Feath-
erfoot open his eyes, an grin with old
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