, 1890-12-18
A HUMAN BLOODHOUND
How an Indian Will Follow
a Trail.
HE TAKES BUT LITTLE REST
But Presses Forward on a Track,
Which Not tho Keenest Dog
Could Find.
detroit Free Press. |


A single Indian has been follow
ing the right hand bank of the Rio
Pecos river, where 1t trends to the
angle of the Chico mountains, Now
Mexico.
Fort Sumner Is fifty miles To the
south, Santa Fe 100 to the north.
IL is u wild. weird country, with tho
Stakod Plains sweeping right up to
the waters of the Pecos from the
east, and the country to the west is
forest, ravlue, valley and desolation.
In u dip of the earth, and still
further shielded by great boulders,
the Indian has found u few charred
sticks and n handful of ashes--relics
of n campfire. He springs to the
cover of rock an d for n quarter OF
an hour nothing is seen or heard of
him. Instinct taught him that
the same instinct that any Wild an
imal has. BY and by he carefully
rises into view and steps forward to
examine the ashes.
"UghW
1t rained three days before. Tho
ashes are dry. The black sticks
preserve their gloss. A twig broken
from bush Is still bleeding. a
bone In the ashes IL broken TO get
at the marrow. This Is Wednesday,
and the hour Is 10 o'clock In tho
forenoon. That fire was built Mon
day noon. The prints OF IA boot heel
are numerous. 1t was q white man.
The prints are exactly alike. There
was but one man-scout, hunter, or
prospector. He was heading up tho
stream.
"Ughw
Everything Is clear to the Indian
IN five minutes, and he picks up
the trail. 1t Is forty-siX hours since
that fire was lighted--at least forty
four since the white man left 1t be-
hind. That Is an old trail, but hero
Is human bloodhound. Nature
has made him to endure heat, cold,
and fatigue us If he were an animal.
He has the cunning of n fox, the
dlctive persistency which nothing
but death can discourage.
There Is no trail-nothlng which
the keenest dog could follow. But
the Indian glides forward like n
shadow, looking only ut the lay of
the ground. a man who travels
without fear takes the easiest road.
A man who Is not pursued travels
slowly. TO the right-to the left
over rocks-across rills-up hill
down hill-never tagging, no mat
ter what the distractions, and mt the
end of three hours he turns sharply
to the left, penetrates the cedars for
u few yards and comes to IA halt be-
fore another camp fire. a branch
among the ashes gives out n faint
smoke. The ashes are still warm.
The fire WAS built Monday night,
and over its flame the white man
cooked his Tuesday breakfast. This
is Wednesday at l o'clock. The
white man has been moving slowly.
Half an hour for rest and bito TO
eat, and the Indian moves forward
again. Here md there rs he flies
along he secs broken branch-the
moss torn from rock-the leaves
disturbed-plenty of signs that some
one has passed that way. The scent
is too old for IA bloodhound; neither
panther nor wolf could read tho
signs. 1t was built near spring
bubbling out of the rocks, and water
was thrown on the flames TO quench
them. 1t was not thoroughly done,
however. Fire clings to several
sticks aud the earth under the ashes
Is warm. The fire was built Tues
day night. The white man left 1t
about s O'Clock this (Wcdnesday)
morning. IL Is now o'clock Il. NJ.
He Is only eight hours ahead and
there arc still three hours of day
light.
| Has he travelled fast or leisurely?
Is he II dozen miles away or only
three or four? The question Is am
swcred before the Indian has pur-
sued the trail half mile. The
white man has stopped TO break off
n piece of rock with his hammer.
He Is a prospector. He goes up this
ravlue half "A mile and returns, lie
! leaps this creek to examine the face
of the clifi-passes an hour or more
| inspecting the sand and gravel in
| the bed of the creek. 1t is II locality
of promise. There is no hurry.
"Ughv
1t Is twilight in the forest-night
in the canyons and gorges. The In
dian has no trail to follow, but
there Is an instinct which leads him
on. He knows he is close on the
quarry, He moves swiftly but
stealthily. There are rocks and
bushes and limbs and vines and
| pitfalls, but he seems to see them in
| the darkness as well as in the light.
The flame of "A camp fire has caught
his eye
! A man clothed in the rough gar
ments of miner sits with his back
| to rock. On the fire at his feet bis
meat IL toasting and his coffee Is
boiling The silence about him is
that OF the grave. His surround
lngs are bouIders, cliffs, ledges,
ravines, trees. II is n wild, weird
spot. Nature was in vindictive
mood when she made 1t. One sit
| ting here alone at high noon would
| feel n chill of loneliness. The man
| looks into the fire. For a moment
his thoughts are elsewhere. or u
sudden that mysterious something
that current which passes between
life aud death, electrities him, and
with his gaze rlveted into the dark
ness beyond the fire he springs TO
| his feet.
Too late The Indian is not thirty
feet away, but before he can lay u
hand OH the body life has departed.
When u bullet strikes the human
heart life is measured by seconds aud
! fractions of seconds.
| An Expensive Daughter.
lCourier-Journai.