Martinsburg herald. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1881-1920, 1890-03-08

to be met with the same answer: st
cannot be done"
"You see, Janet, s. said Chase, sob in
his voice, "there's fifty women an chill
dren here an only thirty men to guard
EN-; there may be hundreds of Injuns out
there. We daren't leave camp or they'll
know it, an we've searched all the plains
with a glass an there's no sign of
her."
"But ter-morrer-" choked Janet.
s'She'll not be a-wanderin', missy
don't arsk me to tell We, but there's In
juns an perarie wolves"
''We must only tell her father she
died--never the whole truth, said Miss
Reed, coming to the wagon for her rub
bers, which she wore on the dryest
nights.
fire. mo, don't talk no more, Janet"
as the child went to him, sit aren't no
use. I'm the only old 1njun fighter in
camp. I've growed gray at it. I've got
ter take the lead"
Janet went quickly to her wagon. By
the light of Pickering candle she
printed, in round, childish hand, on
bit of paper, these few words:
"Mr Chase, am goin' to find Rose an
take Nance. / amt no good in fightin' Injuns,
an | heard you say my folks was dead.
Don't you come for me cause they need you.
They don't me that is only Maverick.
JANET"
She pinned this note to his blanket,
then went softly out in the starlight to
the corner where Nance stood. Fear
lessly she blanketed the animal, fastened
the surcingle, then led her quietly out to
an open space between two wagons.
She looked back at the dying camp
fires, the groups of men sleeping in the
light of them, their guns by their sides,
the silhouettes Of the women against the
wagon curtains, Miss Reeds prim and
queer with the funny curls How safe
it was here, how lonely and dreadful
outsidel She climbed on the pony and
turned her head toward the east; the
animal, thinking of her home, struck into
run. The seminal saw Nance disap-
pear in the darkness, but did not note
the little rider.
"That emery gray pony as amt been
worked all the way hey got loose an
gone, he said to the crowd of excited
men who ran out at the noise.
Every unusual rafting of gravel under
Nance's hoofs quickened the beating of
Janet's heart; every dark object was to
her q beast of prey; every sound, the
coming of the red men. She thought of
the old-time stories OF Indian warfare
and cruelty her grandmother had told
her; of the horrors of the plains the men
spoke of by the camp-fres.
stBut I'm the only one in all that train
as hasn't anybody to care for me, she
said, bravely. There was only me to
be spared.
When the moon rose it showed her no
living object on the great plains. The
camp was far out of vision, and not even
spark from its fires ghmmered on the
still air. Absolute quiet and solitude;
the world seemed asleep.
At the top of a little rise in the road
Janet halted to rest her tired horse, and
once more to look around the lonely
land. The quivering of Nance startled
her, and peering ahead, Janet saw sight
she never afterward forgot.
There in the moonlit road stood baby
Rose, her yellow curls dishevelled, her
face tear stained and dirty, her gown
torn, her little feet bare and bleeding.
She still chung to her flowers that had led
her astray long hours before.
Near the child lean gray wolf sat on
his launches, regarding her with pro-
found and melancholy stare.
At the sight of the pony the wolf gave
weird howl, turned and trotted swiftly
across the plains. The child, with wild
cry, ran forward.
~ knew you'd tum, jamie. | lost all
day an hungy an the doggie coined an
singed. / had doggie once, Bounce,
where mamma was. Oh, l want my
mammal
Janet held her close, kissed her tears
away, aud then she gave her the food she
had brought-her own supper. She
lifted her to the pony's back, led Nance
TO some low hills that might give them
shelter, and there waited for daylight.
Il never knew nights was so long be
fore!" sighed Janet, holding Rose in her
arms. -"Nance is laid down an asleep.
Only me awake, an l must keep watch
for wolves an Iniuns. Now the moons
goin', too, an it gets lonesomer. Ill
say all the hymns | know to keep me
awake an brave"
Try as she would her head would
droop, the words grow confused and
weary. As the moon sank and the chill
increased, the shivering child covered
Rose with her own skirt, and then to
/ keep warm aud awake walked up and
| down beside her.
What was it, that low. trampling
sound, coming louder and nearer so fast?
/ Janet caught up Rose and ran back to the
hill; the horse followed, trembling in
every limb Just beyond the Hill in a
furious gallop came mass of horses, and
dimly amid the fog of dust about them
Janet saw the forms of their Indian
riders
"Joc said Injuns was wuss'n wolves y
sobbed Janet Dear Lord, let them go
/ on an not fnd u.s.
The Indians passed on their path,
marked b. clouds of sand that helped
the darkness mercifully to hide the chill
dren
They're goner' cried Janet; but
hardly were the words uttered when
/ there came another louder trampling, the
/ click of arms against saddles, and more
horses-hundreds of them it seemed 10
Janet-and then, bringing joy to her
heart, an American voice calling: "For-
ward !" as the cavalrymen pressed OF al
| ter the Indians.
The danger having passed, the tired
child fell asleep with Rose in her arms.
When she woke it was bright sunlight.
Her dazed eyes saw Nance feeding mean
by, Rose running toward her, and an oldish
man, with a gray beard and bronzed
4 face, looking at her kindly. BY his side
was the lean wolf Rosy had called dog.
s'I knew it was tame one," cried
Janet.
Sin course you did," smiled the old
man. ''Me an my gal, Ann Reed. fell
out twenty odd year ago cause I owned
tame bar. She went ter Bosting,
turned schoolmarm, an l emigrated to
Lowry"