Edgefield advertiser. [volume] (Edgefield, S.C.) 1836-current, 1892-07-07
Only q squaW and Her Babe.
The first faint trace of daylight: It:

is appearing as the tired troopers,
aivested of heavy coat, canteen
1 and cup, spurs and sling belt,
creep upward through the snow
and loose rocks to the place as
signed each group along the edge
.sof the bluff that affords shelter
from the wintry blast to the little
Cheyenne village nestling in the
bend OF the frozen creek below.
Save the soft crunching Of the
snow beneath the pressure OF
hands and knees, perfect stiffness
prevails, and in a few moments
more the village will be 80 com
pletely surrounded that escape will
be impossible, and daylight Will
reveal the uselessness Of resist
ance. Then a quick return to the
agency must be made, for the ther-
mometer registers twenty seven be-
low, aud even the horses, left far
down in the canon, will soon perish
. for want of shelter.
But the eighty-three miles ride
in the singing cold has benumbed.
tbe sense of touch, and a bit OF
glary ice brings trooper and his
carbine rafting down among the
loose rocks, while the shrill snap
ping bark of the Indian dogs
awakens the sleepy guard, and,
following this alarm, out from the
teepees rush the redskins.
Believing that capture can mean
rlaught else than death, the Indians
take deadly aim with their VIM
chesters, 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 ofthc band, a Cheyenne
squaw with babe and child, JOIN
the retreat.
A stray bullet skaters the
mothers right arm and but for the
maiden's quick movement, the
babe would have fallen. Forging
swiftly ahead, the child does not
see the mother hurled unconscious
to the ground by q bullet that
crashes thought her right thigh,
and she has almost reached the
rocks when a leaden messenger OF
death touches her heart. and, re-
laxing all hold on the babe, the
little maiden staggers and sinks
forward in heap on the snow.
Daylight comes quickly, and the
stiffness that follows this deadly
outburst 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, worming its,
way gradually from side, and 4
saloWly but surely inch by inch,
lessening the distanc ce between self
and bal
Fourteen minutes-an age
have passed, and she has crawled
but half the distance, and now lies
motionless, with her face toward
the bluff. An lnexpressible agony
that finds vent only though her
eyes is more than human sight can
stand, and dropping his field
glasses sergenant leaps down.
ward to carry the babe to her side,
and-is shot dead before dozen
steps are taken.
The suns rays bring no warmth
and the piteons 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 murmur 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
heartbroken, raise flag of trauce,
soldiers 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