San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1892-07-09

As the day wore on toward its close
the only hopeful sign the caravan could
see was that the Indians in the camp by
the river were growing restless. They
sent out scouts to scan the prairies from
the highlands at short intervals, and
they could be seen making preparations
for moving. Evidently they feared re-en-
forcements for the train, troops passing
by On their way to or from the forts, OF
a bodyOf well armed trappers. Some
knowledge OF this kind made them I'M.
easy, or they were short of ammunitiop.
Either supposition was favorable to the
corral and the tired men took fresh
courage. Gradually the besieging In
dians withdrew toward the river until
only a few determined braves were left
riding around the corral at safe distance,
now and then firing a random shot from
rifle, or a poisoned arrow from bow
The men who had made this long de-
Tense had not tasted food since break
fast and were just finding out how hun
CRY and weary they were, now that the
great strain was over and the Indians
had Withdrawn for The night. The
sharpshooters were still on the lookout
with rifles in, readiness, but the call for
supper went around the line and every
mans spirits rose with the hope that
early dawn would see the departure of
the Indians. Old Jose got up from his
crouching position of vantage to give
directions for the night, when, swift as
an arrow, a young brave dashed few
PAGES forward, took quick aim, fired
and sent a bullet whizzing through the
air that lodged in the old Mexican's
heart The Indian fell almost in the
same instant. His lingering comrades
uttered uneartbly bowls of rage, halted
a moment to measure with keen eye the
distance between his ifeless body and
the corral, and then galloped off to camp
without it.
His was the form to lie next the first
victim-poor old Jose Valdez-his one
ambition not yet half fulfilled. But
| then he fell with harness on and if
the fatal bullet did strike him in the
backing one would ever know. Not
one of that brave band would ever tell
the tale. They knew his spirit was to
the fore. He died game" no better
epitaph could be framed in their yocab-
ulary.
And now the caravan was without a
captain. A council of war must be held.
Where was the man to take up the COM
mand in such straits? The supper was
but sparingly partaken of; it had lost its
Zest Every man of them had feared
death all day; every man of them but
two had escaped; now, looking on these
two, every man said to himself, 1T
might have been-tomorrow it may be-"
1t was decided to send out two scouts
as soon as the night grew dark enough
to protect them, who should try to reach
one of the forts if they did not sooner in
tercept aid on the trail. Men were Sc
lected who had had experience in such
work, and with many prayers following
them they went stealthily forth into the
| darkness from the west side of the
corral.
A signal had been agreed upon by
which they were to make known their
approach if they were unable to go
through the Indian picket lines and were
obliged to return. Three hours later the
signal was heard Oil the east side of the
corral Every man was on guard. There
was no sleep that night inside the bar
ricade of wagons-save that deep and
lasting repose of old Jose and his COM
rade under the gray blanket.
The scouts reported that they could
not elude the vigilance of the Indian
guards-a Gordon of pickets surrounded
the corral; they had tried on every side
But they had something worse than this
to tell. Half way between the picket
line and the wagons they had heard a
noise-a movement as of some one crawl
ing through the grass like themselves.
They stopped and listened and waited
and heard it again, but they were not
able to locate it nor to determine which
way it was going.
OF course this story aroused every
mans fear of night attack from the In
dams, they had not really expected that,
though they had remained IL readiness
for it throughout the night. Now every
mans hair stood on end at thought of the
scalping knife and the tomahawk, and
every man fancied he could hear the red
skinned serpents crawling through the
dry grass straight to the corral. A dozen
men were lying with ear to the ground
listening, when, close and clear, came
the words:
Don't shoot, boys: it is friend" and
King, the wagon master, sprang into the
corral. as il, all right, pardners? Am
l welcome?" he continued, excitedly
glancing about in evident doubt as to
his reception.
welcome? Yesl Yes!" chimed many
voices, and the men clustered about