Democratic Northwest. [volume] (Napoleon, Ohio) 1869-1894, 1892-01-21

daWley looks TO see GnaC MS r1f1e Is In
order, and as he does so he glances at the
pale faces of the husband and wife be-
hind him. AS for himself, he is indiffer-
ent Dunsmier has begun to throw into
the road the mail bags. His wife looks
at him as if to urge him to cut loose the
trunk, but remains silent, as if afraid to
ask it.
HE would sacrifice even her to save
his gold," Hawley thinks bitterly.
How the horses jump under the lash!
They, too, have scented the danger and
seem to know that the race is one of life
and death. The smooth, straight road
stretches far ahead toward where it be-
gins to climb the narrow pass through
which it crosses the mountains. 1t is al
that point that the Indians are trying to
intercept them. How they ride! The
cruel rawhide quirts with which they
are cutting their horses seem to be al
ways in the air, while the long black hair
of each streams out far behind They
are slowly gaining. Hawley raises his
rifle and fires at AN Indian in the leading
group. A little puff of dust marks where
the bullet strikes the ground to the left.
No use to waste cartridges firing from
the blackboard. One can only wait until
all hope of escape by flight is gone, and
then fight until death comes. In fight
is their only hope.
Jose has dropped from the seat to his
knees and leans far over the dashboard
that he may reach the further with his
whip How it whistles through the air
as it falls on the fanks of the leaders and
wheelers, leaving, wherever it falls, great
welts that show plainly through the dust
and sweat that cover the horsesl He
strives to make the lash fall where the
skin is the tenderest. 1t cuts the thin,
delicate nostrils of the wheelers, and
raises on the bellies of the leaders ridges
that are almost as large as the veins,
while he shouts at them with fierce
Spanish curses. No wonder the horses
grow wild with pain and fear and dash
madly on. Fast as they go, though, they
can hardly hold their own with the pur-
suers. 1t is only question of time be-
fore they are overtaken, unless something
intervenes to save them.
A broken trace, a cracked spring-and
then few shots, rush by the Indians,
and all would be over; the next passer by
would find their mutilated bodies lying
in the road, amid the rifled trunks and
mail bags. No one speaks. They are
almost at the point where the narrow
road begins to climb the mountain pass.
Behind them, less than a mile away,
come the Apaches, their horses decked
with foam. Once the blackboard begins
to ascend the mountains, it will be mad
ness to drive as they have driven on the
plains To do SO might throw them into
the canyon hundreds of feet below or
break their vehicle against one of the
many bowlders that line the roadside
Already josef is getting his horses in hand
as If to check their speed. Here the In
dians have the advantage, and their sure
footed mustangs, unhampered by harness
or wagon, will soon overtake the buck
board There is chance, though, and.
facing Dunsmier and his wife, Hawley,
whose face is white and stern, says:
"Dunsmier, from the top of the noun
tain it is hardly three miles into the next
station, Camp Date Creek, and you and
|, by getting out here. can stand off the
Apaches until the wagon gets away. If
we only hold them back for ten minutes
it will be enough, for by that time the
wagon can reach the top of the mountain
and there will be no chance for the In
dians to overtake it."