The L'Anse sentinel. (L'Anse, L.S., Mich.) 18??-current, 1892-07-09

Only an Indian squaw with Her Two
Children.


/ Children.
i Save the soft crunching OF the snow
beneath the pressure OF hands and
knees perfect stiffness prevails. and
In Few moments more the village
will be so completely surrounded
that escape will be impossible and
daylight will reveal the uselessness of
resistance. Then quick return to-
the agency must be made. for the
Thermometer registers twenty-seven
below, and even the horses left far
down In the canyon. must soon perish
for want OF shelter
1 But the eighty-three miles ride has
benumbed the sense OF touch. and a.
bit of glary ice brings trooper and
his carbine rafting down among the
loose rocks. while the shrlll. snap
! ping bark OF the Indian dogs awakens.
the sleepy guard. and following this.
alarm out from the tepees rush the,
redskins
Believing that capture can mean
naught else than death. the Indians.
take deadly aim with their Winches-
tiers, then swiftly retreat to the only
point left open by the troops who.
seeing their comrades falling, wait not.
for the word OF command. but send in
"a destructive fire just as the last of
the tand. a Cheyenne squaw with
babe and girl join the retreat.
A stray bullet skaters the mothers
right arm. and but for the maidens
quick movement the babe would have
fallen. Forging swiftly ahead the
girl does not see the mother hurled
unconscious to the ground bye bullet
and she has almost reached the rocks.
when leaden messenger OF death
touches her heart and relaxing all
hold on the babe the little maiden
staggers and sinks forward in a heap
on the snow.
Daylight comes quickly and the
stiffness that follows this deadly out
burst is pierced only by the pitiful
cry OF the babe stretched on the icy
crust and helplessly appealing for the
shelter and warmth of the mothers.
breast And then the form of that.
mother is seen to move forward worm
ing its way gradually from side to.
side and slowly but surely. inch by
inch. lessening the distance between
self and babe.
Fourteen minutes-an age-have
passed. and she has crawled half the,
distance. and now lies motionless.
with her face towards the bluff. An
inexpressible agony that finds vent
only through her eyes is more than
human sight can stand and dropping
his field-glasses sergeant leaps
downward to carry the babe to her
side and-is shot dead before a dozen
steps are taken.
The suns rays bring no warmth.
and the piteous cry is growing
fainter and fainter. But the mother
is again sinking her one hand
through the crust OF the snow. and
dragging her wounded form forward;
and reaching the babe. with an almost.
superhuman effort she rolls over on
her back in the movement divesting
herself OF the blanket that forms her
only outer garment and. drawing the
wee tot to her breast tucks the blanket
lovingly around the little body. and
folding it in her arm. stills its MUIR
muir with mothers touch. Then
she places the fingers of her broken.
dangling arm caressingly on the cold
cheek OF the little maiden.
When the Indians. chilled and heart
broken, raise flag Of truce the SOL
diers hurry to the mothers side But.
the baby's lips are tightly frozen to
the icy breast and mother and babe
and little sister have crossed the last
range. New York Evening Post