The Ketchum keystone. [volume] (Ketchum, Idaho) 1885-1899, 1891-10-24
HERE LIES
MARY EMMA LEE,
WHO WAS
KILLED BY INDIANS
ON THIS SPOT, AFTER A HEROIC
lDEFENSE, IN JULY, 1867.

that lonely grave every man uncov-
cred his head in reverence for the
dead, and the story of that young
woman's death has never been told
around a campfire in the West
without making mems hearts ache.
This is the story: There were five
or six families of emigrants jour
neying across the lonely plains when
they were beset by hostile Indians.
Mary Lee was a girl only Is years
old, and had been brought up on
the Iowa line. The family consisted
Of father, mother, two sisters and a
brother. The attack was made very
suddenly, and Mary, who was rid
ing her own horse, was cut off from
the band. When she realized this
she turned and rode away and was
pursued by seven Indians. This
was about 8 o'clock in the morning.
Her horse carried her thirty-six
miles before he became exhausted,
and when he fell she made her way
to the crest of the mound and there
scooped out shallow riAe-pit. piled
stone up around it and prepared to
die fighting.
The Indians were three miles be-
hind her when her horse gave out.
She had a light Winchester rifle,
which was fully loaded, but no ex-
ira cartridges. Her first shot killed
an Idian and her second crippled
another for hfe. The other five
dared not charge her position. On
the second day she killed another
Indian, and the other four posted
themselves in positions and waited
for hunger and thirst to conquer her.
On the third day they were joined
by twenty of their band, but the
girl was not attacked. On this day
an Indian, who was creeping up to
spy on her, was shot through the
left lung, and the others con;ented
themselver by dropping fire at
long ranges to harass her.
On the fourth day not shot was
fired. The weather was terribly hot
and the sun glared down on that
mound until the grass withered and
shriyeled and seemed to dry up.
On the fifth day, an hour after
noon, the girl shot herself through
the head and was dead before any,
one reached her. / afterward talked
with one of the warriors who was
there and he told me that she had
been almost roasted alive by that
fierce sun. She had neither food
nor drink and was little better than
a skeleton. The Indians simply
stood about and looked down upon
her. She had wealth of golden
hair, but they did not scalp her.
She had rings on her fingers, but
they left them there. They did not
not even take her rifle nor the sad
die from the dead horse.
"White squaw heap brave-fght
hard-no scalp"
That was her eulogy. Two or
three years later her scattered bones
were collected and buried by sur
veying party, and to-day her dust
mingles with the sterile soil fifty
miles from the nearest dwelling of
one of her race. Bronzed and beard
ed Indian fighters, reckless and des-
perate cowboys, stern-faced and tao
turn pioneers have whispered the
name of Mary Lee around the even
ing camp fire a thousand times since
her death, but ever and always with
a gentle tongue and swelling of the
heart. She was not only woman,
but she died game.-M. Quad.
Raspberries have been raised from
the seed taken from the stomach of
q man who died during the time Of
the Emperor Hadrian, who reigned
in the Second century Of our era.
Think of it, seed springing into
new life after lying dormant six
teen centuries.
An electric device for stoppirg 6
runaway horses was successfully
tried in Chicago, without injury 10
the animals.