Waterbury evening Democrat., 1889-07-10

MfK- }iFassS1 marked the site oi >mW uap the officers quarters. l
 H ~.N. The buttes rising
 >A5 abruptly in the rear
 of the post looked as If carved with mathematical precision from solid rock. A more desolate, op.. pressive bit of landscape the eye could not rest upon. "Every one is either dead or asleep, muttered Jim Fellows, as he stood look. ing through the small, high window oi the hospital ward. Day after day, for three long weeks, Jim had been reported sin hospital" The surgeon, Dr. Thomas. had positively re- fused to allow him to report for duty until the following week, and then con. ditionally.
 There was nothing to look at, nothing to do. To make his confinement more irksome, command had left the post at early morning on a scout, and Jim was bitterly disappointed because he could notsgo with his comrades.
 Jim Fellows was alone in the world. One September morning, fourteen years before our story opens, detail from B troop wvs cutting logs in the woods, when @ shout from the sergeant caused every hand to drop the saw and seize the car bine; for those were the days of Indian troubles, when an unarmed command never left the post. Coming toward them through an opening in the trees, the startled men saw the most astonishing apparition of their service-a baby boy, dirty, ragged and weak from hunger. Where he came from was never dis covered, although pair of tiny mocas- sins on the bruised feet furnished clew to the mystery. A wagon-train had prob ably fallen 6 prey to 0 band of wandering Utes, and this boy had been saved from the general massacre for adoption, as Is frequent custom among the plains h. dians.
 Alarmed either by tho presence of hostile tribe or a company of army scouts, the baby had been dropped as an imped- iment to flight.
 After grave deliberation, "the kid'' was formally adopted by B troop and placed in charge of the post laundress. The name of Jim Fellows was given him-the Christian name out of compliment to the commanding officer; and the Fellows as indicative of the joint ownership of tho men. When he was twelve years old the band-master bought him O drum and taught him to use it well; and now, four years later, Jim was the drummer boy of the regimental band.
 An attack of insidious low fever, which has dug so many graves for the brave wearers of the blue west of the Rockies, had shut him in the hospital where he sat so restlessly during tho burning sum- mer afternoon.
 About four o'clock the stiffness and heat became unbeerable. Going to the door, Jim flung 1t Open, and stepped out eide. No one was in sight; quickly lodging past the barracks, the boy ran eastward in the direction of the quarter masters corral.
 II am going to have ride, If swing for it." he muttered, desperately. 'Weel, lad, where are you going2" Startled, Jim turned, and gave 0 re. ueved chuckle.
 Il am running away, Sandy he satd, brightly; "you arc just the one to help me. Lend me horse, won't you?" Sandy McLoam was the herder, whose ranch lay within sight of the post. The | meat of the garrison was furnished by him, and it was loudly said in tho mess that the canny Scotchman got the better l of the quartermaster in every bargain Military red tape he considered his worst foe; so after a very faint protest, Jin was mounted on a sleep-looking IndiaI pony known as "Comanche," and hat slipped away in tho shadow of the stables after the command.
 With eyes skilled in plains lore, he read the apparently imperceptible trail and pushed on fearlessly to the right
 An hours hard riding brought him tc the river Dainty picking his way, Com anche carried him safely over the ford Directly in front, brought near by ths marvellous :clearness of the atmosphere known as "Wild Rose Pass" Not liv ing soul was in sight; so, without { thought of the waning day, and the in dignant authorities at the post, Jim rodt | on.
 After three weeks in the stifling air O the hospital, the boundless freedom O the open air fairly intoxicated him. Tt live in the seddle, shoot redskins, anc dle in their boots, was the religion of I troops and Jim was their disciple. About sundown, when the direct leve rays of light lay like crimson roadway over tho plains, Comanche and his ride entered the fringe of willows edging thu little stream ct the. entrance of thu "Pass." Still there was not 8 sound The sweet air blew from the canyon filed with the soft rustic of the leaves.
 Dismounting, Jim buried his hot blis tered face in the cool water, and quenchet the thirst which riding over an alkal plain makes intolerable. To easterl eyes it was scene of perfect peace an, safety but the quiet was ominOus to th' boy, who knew the subtlety and cunning of the savage. ....
 I A slight sound caused him to turn hi head and look at Comanche. No on could call him sleepy now. His ears la. back close to his shaply head, and tn nostrlls quivered Jim understood onl, too well. Comanche had come riderles from out many fight.
 Hastily tying the horse, and hidin, him deftly in the bushes, Jim threw him self on his hands and knees and crawle, through the underbrush.
 "Lucky the winds from tho canyon, be thought, coolly. Every faculty wa alert. Now was his chance to serve tn Tenth and win his spurs.
 lUPHoLSTERING