The Sully County watchman. (Clifton, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1894, 1891-12-19
MY APACHE PROTEGE.

MY APACHE PROTEGE.
Never 90 cumming with an Apachep
| You smile at such strange advice? Well.
might have smiled at it once myself.
But we are all creatures OF crcum-
stance. aud | was a tenderfoot then.
anyway. This is how | chummed 1t
with my little Indians:
| was swinging my red-nnd-blue
clubs under the pepper-tree at the
back of the station. This | did be-
cause had II theory that exercise was
good for man living on a desert.
| The lazy Mexicans and most of the
| Americans thereabouts had no ruddv
| glow on their fnces. They were all
| sallow. What ! wanted was a ruddy
glow.
| Ny red-and-blue clubs circ,ed about
very prettiv that day, and the ruddy
glow came; also dripping epidermis
and big desire to sit down in the
shade of the pepper-tree and blow to-
| bacco smoke. The tree was small
one. When the station tank ran over,
which was not often, its roots received
| little moisture. So it grew slowly.
| 4 u
squeal of disgust went up from some
where. and, as turned about. I saw a
small brown head dart behind
cactus-liued rock.
| | said nothing. but leaned back in
my seat. pulled my sombrero down
over my face and slammed sleep. with
one-half closed eye on the rock and the
big cactus shrubs. No use. You can
not get an Apache out of his hole in
| that way.
Next day. with my beautiful exer-
else theory still bristling in my brain.
turned quickly. while in the midst of
my club swinging. and saw the wide
open eyes and gaping mouth of the
cunningest little savage | had ever be-
held. He sprang about and fled be-
| hind the rock. but not too quickly tor
me to read INK Family Flour" in
large red letters on his back. His one
short garment was n cotton sack with
holes cut through it for his head and
arms.
Come. Tads." | cried. christening
him in that flceting second with a
name that stuck to him all his life.
"out of that!" And | jumped behind
I
did not grasp the hour-sack. as | had
intended it should.
| Where was the wee savage?
| Like lizard. he had darted from
sight somewhere in that little patch of
rocks and cactus though there did not
appear to be cover enough there to
conceal jack-rabbit.
| The spines must scratch him." |
thought, rs | looked at the prickly
cactus; but did not know then how
Apachcs put up with such small irri-
tations. Not wanting to give the boy
| unnecessary torture, ! went back to
my clubs. Throwing my eyes about
again, / caught another fecting
glimpse of the brown head is it lodged
behind the rock.
Tads must have been disappointed
next day for there was no ciub-swing-
ing under the pepper-tree. The duties
of telegraph agent lay too heavily up
on me and the sun lay too heavily up
on the desert. | saw Tads steal away
| from his lair about two hours after my
usual exercise time and walk down the
| sand-drifts with a detected air. his one
garment Tapping in the hot wind.
A wild nature like his was proof
against such snares os The toothsome
confection, the golden orange. or the
mealy peanut. found that out by
trial in the course of the next week.
But an old jack-knife won him over
That was something his Apache mind
could grasp. 1t was n greater delight
to him than the red-and-buc clubs.
Sworn friends from that day were
Tads and /. His talk was a ridiculous
mixture of English. Spanish aud
Apache. and his voice was very throaty.
But | understood him. Indian-like he
said little. 1t was therefore easy to
get along with him. He would sit for
hours on high stool listening to the
"tunk-tunk-tunk" of my soundcr. The
telegraph was an awful mystery to him
at first. and it sguelched his imagina-
ton; but he solved the problem at last
A man sway of i'm the mountains
spoke with his fingers to- me. and |
spoke back TO him. That was his idea
of il, and ii was not bad one either
The humming of the wires overhead
were the voices of people with ponder
Gus fingers. but they were not of this
| world.
How the cowboys laughed when
they saw Tads and me in the station.
That tenderloots queer one."
they said of me.
The despised Apache could not crawl
| into their hearts-not even if he were
a 6-vear old.
He'll steal everything the tender
foot's got" they pleasantly averred.
But he did not.
When Tads left the station of an
| evening, his little brown feet battered
| straight over the roads to the wickiups,
half mile away. In time he wore
narrow trail over to the huts
Pity veil" F." was what Tads would
grunt To me every day when he came