The Russellville Democrat., 1889-02-14

ly. and hitching his pony, he crouched
 behind friendly bush to make hur-
 ried survey of the camp. He saw the
 tent which had been described to him
 as that of his wife and child, and no- ticed that 1t was somewhat isolated,
 This was good. The fates werc with
 him. He could hardly refrain from
 giving a shout of joy as he gazed at the
 tent where Koska sldmbered. He saw
 in imagination the interior of the tent,
 and feasted his eyes on the little slum-
 berer without whom the world to him
 was chaos and life was death.
 There was no one about Even the
 watchful dogs were asleep, and the
 only sounds were those of the browsing
 beasts or of the rustling trees through
 which the balmy June breeze played,
 Rain-in-the-Faee efept slowly to ihG
 tent Pausing outside and placing his
 ear near the opening in the canvas, he
 heard the low breathing Of the sleep-
 CTS. He could wait no longer, and
 after peering about the camp to see if he had been discovered, he pulled back l the loose blanket which serye ed as doert and drew forth his knife. He was armed, for he knew not what he might encounter in his desperate work, and he had sworn that no power should cheat him of success. He placed one foot within the tent, and again glanced back to make sure that all was uncon- scious of his presence In another l moment he was looking on the face of her whom he had enee loved, but his gaze rested hot there. It was a riiomentary glance, but he recogniz ed the face in the moonlight which streamed through the openings in the tent. He was stooping for Koska, when he discovered that the object which he t1istook for the huddling boy was simply bundle of clothes. He made a careful survey of the interior of the tent but no Koska was there. Again had he met with sore and terrible dis appointment Had tho little one rolled out the tent In his sleeps He would see. Fastening out he orept about the tent only to intensify his disappointment. He could not understand the absence of Koska, unless the boy had been left ~ith playmates at an- Other tent. For moment he suspected that he had been betrayed, but the success with which he reached the tent dispeled this suspicion, and he accepted the theory that the boys ab- senee was accidental. Still confident that he would succeed in stealing Koska, he was happy, though disap- pointed. As he was about to leave the oent he heard faint, startled cry, and in an instant the wife, who had been aroused by his prowlmgs, appeared at the door of the tent. The crisis had arrived. Rain-in-the-Face was discov= cred. Raising his knife and spfinging forward, he whispered threat that if she awoke the camp she would pay the penalty. She knew him, and was silent. A few hurried words passed between the couple, and Rain-ln-the-Fa Face de- manded the restoration of his boy. Tho wffe answered in lower tones than those in which she was wont to speak, and as she did so the knife dropped from the hand of the desperate chiei, his head was bowed, and with wave of the hand he left the tent and returned to his pony. Remounting him, hc drove silently to the point indicated by his wife, paused beneath tree, and there in the limpid moonlight. kissed by the saddened winds, was koska. He had died on the day previous, and in ac- cordance with the Indian custom his remains, with all his worldly effects, were placed in the limbs Of the tree.
 Rain-in-the-Face sat motionless, gaz- ing Into the tree. There was the bow and arrow which he had made for his boy even before the babe could walk; there was the little buckskin coat, the first that Koska wore, and there the top that Raip-in-the-Fac had taught the happy child to spin. There, too. was small bronze face, pinched and sunken in death, but the laughing eyes were closed, the cooing voice was stilled -Koska was not there. The weary, grief-worn mother had told Rain-in- the-Face that Boska was in the tree, but the crushed and sorrowing chief now knew that this was false.
 "If koska is in the tree, why does he not answer mel" thought Rain-in- the-Face. My Koska was a loving boy. His pretty face was round and dimpled, and wherever I found him his chubby arms were quick about my neck" Thus unused the broken chief. He saw in the tree the human frame with which his koska used to walk and run; he saw the toys with which he made the moments merry-but he saw no Koska His boy would not re- fuse to greet him. He was not in the tree. but had gone to the happy hunt ing grounds where sorrow is unknown, where he could become far greater than on earth, and where when once they meet, there will be no separation So thought Rain-in-the-Face.
 It is not considered manly amongst Indians to weep. It has become proverbial that Indian men never shed tears. Tears are womanish, and are left to the squaws, but when Rain-in- the-Face returned to Standing Rock he did not speak. He summed his good, kind friend for many days, and at last. when he did meet him and told him of the death of KoslSa, he turned his back and walked away-ior he wished not to be called woman. .-J. NJ Quinn, in Leslie's Newspaper.