St. Paul daily globe., 1890-12-29
DAKOTA GHOST STORY.

''Wait until you see ghost and you
won't be so flippant abont them"
The speaker was lanky man, fresh
from the Unfenctd d plains Of the bowling
West. He had listened with scant pa
thence to somewhat frivolous after
dinner discussion of sp0oks until at last
he could no longer stand the trifiing
way i'll which the superstition was be-
ing handled.
Ibid any of you gentlemen ever see
ghoSt?' he went on; "a real. palpable
apparition that leaves no doubt in your
mind what You are looking at, one that
envelopS you with its CHASTITY, clammy
influence, STILES your inclination TO cry
out, and keeps you footed to the spot in
sheer dumb terror, that is so penetrat-
ing that 1t amounts to absolute agony?
Il was up i'll Dakota once-Spent the
winter there on a deSolate, forSaken
little Indian ageney-there were only
three or four white men besides myself
on the place. One of them was a boy;
not all ordinary boy, but nice, clean
young fellow who had been bred away
from the contaminating Influences of
cities. 1t was like a breath of fresh
mountain air just to meet that boy and
chat momSnt with him. L was young
myself, and we became great friends
and rode and hunted and exchanged our
Scanty books and were the best of COM
rades. When the spring got warm and
pleasant we used to go down to one of
the little pools i'll the river bottom and
swim together. Almost every evening
l would hear his peculiar whistle below
my window. and dropping my book or
pipe, would join HIM in stroll down
across the level, fragrant bottom land
and dip in the cool water.
"But one evening L was not home to
hear the familiar whistle, and late that
night White-faced man reused me with
the news that the boy was missing,
probably drowned. | can't tdescribe the
haste with which hurried into few
clothes, and the short. sharp ride to the
little pool, or how found a wildly ex-
cited group clamoring over the diScov-
cry of his clothes. nor how his mother
and sisters literally flung themselves
at me and walled out entreatieS to save
him; it was all too ghaStlv and horrible
for description; through such scene a
man goes as in walking dream, only
held mp by the consciousness that the
horrible reality must some time be a
thing of the past.
And equally impossible would it be
to describe the long, heart-breaking
search under the black night You
must imagine for yourself the scene.
with the ffaring torches spangling the
murky water with thousand CLEANS
and splasheS of crimson light: the
hoarse. low voices of the white men and
the deep, full gutturals of the Indians.
II was the only good swimmer on the
agency. and again and again dove into
that black pool, down, down, down, into
the turbid depths, and passed my hands
over the muddy bottom, stirring up
thousand Shiny, crawling things in my
search for my dead friend.
'At last 1t was over, and [ turned to
go home alone, with the wild deSpairing
wall of his mother when size at last re-
allied that all hope was gone still ring
ing in my ears. My pony had long since
between the close walls of willow thick
cts, so tired that L could hardly step,
and with nerves in all utter state of col
lapse.
"The sky was growing little lighter
from some cause, and the sharp outlines
of each bit of foliage stood out with
startling distinctness. The narrow
path fenced in by the black masses was
visible some distance before me, my
eye took in these details. but hardly
needed them, SO lost was in mournful
reverie. Suddenly a shrill. sharp
whistle rang out of the somber shade
before me. 1t was the boys whistle to
the life! and so natural that with
out thought | sent back re-
ply; then stopped stock still.
shocked by the grim thought of
last heard that whistle. And my mind
turned instinctively to the picture of
him as l saw him last with his poor
mother hanging over his cold, white
body. 1t was all over in Il moment, but
it left me standing there positively
shivering with nervous dread. As |
finally shook myself together and started
forward | was conscious of new hor-
rUr. The path in front of ME widened
into little open circle. surrounded by
the close-set willow thicket. This little
open spot was even lighter than the
path, and ont in the very center of it
stood something or somebody muffled
from head to foot in black. close-cling-
ing drapery. No face was visible, and
yet could swear that the thing pos
SeSSed one. The outline of the arms
was lost Ill the black cerements which
embodied the body, yet they, too, were
indicated. There was something about
this horrible. formless apparition which
made ME feel deep in my utmost being
that in reality it was not formleSs. but
gifted with an individuality as strong
as my own, which only defective vision
prevented me from seeing.
The black drapery moved slightly
with snaky, undulating motion as it
moved toward me, but there was no
sound of football Oh the grass. | could
not run. | could only wait in dumb
agony for its approach. Of what it was
or what it wanted had no idea. Vague
queries of whether it would go bv
passed through my terrified mind. or
whether it would stop and subject ME
to some horrible interview. The thing
was within four feet of me, and still no
clue to its identity. The same outline
of the human figure impressing one
with its absolute reality, and the same
total lack of feature or distinctness. [
was peril0usly near fainJing from sheer
horror. The thing made as if to pass
me. Instinctively put out my arm to
intercept, fully believing as I did so
that should only encounter the chill
air. The shock of relief nearly made
my heart burst when L felt my arm
come in contact with human ribs, and
heard the owner give little startled
grunt-it was an Indian Squaw done up
in a navy blue jacket. But, as far as
my sensations went, she might have
been imported directly from the banks
I