River Falls journal. [volume] (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1872-2019, 1892-01-14
As A WARRIOR DIES.
Thrilling Description of the Death of an
Apache Indian.

Apache Indian.
We were on the west bank or edge of
the ravine, which was about fifty feet
vide and SO deep that our eyes could
rot penetrate through the darkness to
,iie bottom We had been sheltered
behind the great boulders for half an
hour or 81. believing that the Indians
were on our trail, when warrior sud-
derly stepped into view just opposite
Us. lie was a trifle higher up than we
were, and but for the glare of the sun
in his eyes he must have seen US at
once. We had travelled faster than he
had anticipated. for he was looking
back over the rough road We had trav-
ersed
He stood beside rock which would
have hidden him from the sight of any
one coming from the west, and we
watched him for a couple of minutes
before the scout suddenly raised his
rifle and fired. The bullet struck him
in the chest He was so near that I
saw the dust Of it as it cut his hunting
shirt. He had just Strengthened up as
the scout fired. and the blow of the bull
let knocked him off his feet backward.
As he fell his rifle slipped from his grasp
and went Gathering down, and it
seemed as if one could have counted up
to hundred before it reached the bot
tom and was discharged
The warrior was stunned for a min
ute, and lay as if dead. Then he made
an effort to get up, and the struggle
carried hun feet first down the steep
and slippery rock, and he only caught
himself as his body went over the brink.
With sort of half-turn he grasped the
very edge of the shelf, but only with
his right hand. As he hung there he
faced us. and we looked square into his
eyes across the chasm. He was a full
grown man, and in war-paint, and his
face was that of demon. There was
bloody froth oozing from his lips, and
as he hung there he spat blood. But for
his lungs being filed he would, no
doubt, have uttered warcry and sum-
moned aid. We dared not fire again for
fear of further betraying our position,
and so we watched and waited until he
should go to his death down in the
darkness four hundred feet below.
Drip! drip! drip.
y
ming down to his feet and then drop
ping on rocky projection yard be-
low. Such was the awful silence that
we could hear the fall of each and every
drop.
With his glittering black eyes fixed
upon us-eyes which shOne with hate
and fury and had never a WAIVER in
them-he hung as motioniess as if he
were a part of the cliff. After the first
thirty seconds he did not open his lips
TO eject the blood which finally ran in
tiny streams from each nostril.
te-fury-revengel Not a move
ment of the lips-not twitching of
muscle from head to toe as he hung
there. We read it all in his eyes. lie
was going to his death, but he would &c
hating the white man as only an Apache
can hate-thirsting for his blood as only
an Apache thirsts.
| watched the arm by which he hung.
IL was the arm of an athlete, with the
muscles standing out To prove its won
derfnl strength. | could not detect the
slightest sign of weakness after it had
held him up for five long minutes.
Hes going"' whispered the scout.
There was a movement of the legs
wild clutch of the other arm-a
twitching of the corners Of the mouth.
Then the eyes blaZed forth a new fury
for a few seconds-a look so full of
malignant hate and thirst for ven
geance that we instinctively drew back,
and the bloodstained body went out of
sight in an instant. We leaned over
and waited. No sound came up to us.
He had struck the rocks to be mashed
and nangled to an unrecognizable
mass, but the ravine was too deep for
the echo to find its way to the brink
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