Waterbury evening Democrat. [volume] (Waterbury, Conn.) 1887-1895, 1894-04-02

about three years. He would every
once in awhile take his gun and slip
| away to join some rowing band of In
dian hunters, presently returning a
painted brave and adorned in all the
finory of ii young red man, every stitch
of his civilized dress snapped off tor
fringed and beaded buckskin, and many
dollars given to boot.
In about an hour my cousin came
back. a large bonfire of fencerails had
been made, near which l was standing.
Seeing my cousin come into the edge
of the circle of light thrown from the
fire and make me sign, went out to
him, and we withdrew into the dark.
well, what news:" l asked.
Bad, bad!" said he. THE child has
gone into the hogpen'
"Great God. You don't mean to say
that she has been devoured by the hogs?"
No; l hope not. could find no frag
ments of her dress. But if she escaped
the hogs l fear she is drowned. At the
side of the lot III which the hogs are
penned is slough we'll about 10 feet
deep l found the child tracks in the
lane leading from the house out to the
prairie-the tracks turned and followed
the fence of the field. Then she crawled
through the fence and went toward the
we'll inside the hogpen, in corner of
the fence. There l lost the track. Don t
let the father know. Take lantern
and half a dozen men, then quietly slip
away, rig some kind of graphing hooks
and examine the well. If you don find
the body in the well, search every part
of the lot for scraps OF the child s dress.
l shall go southwark along the line of
the field, and if she came out of that
pen alive l hope somewhere to again
find the little moccasin tracks.
Soundings showed the slough we'll to
contain only about four feet of water.
would wait for no graphing hooks.
Taking a rail from the fence tor use as
a ladder. l slipped off my clothes and
descended to the bottom of the well. 1t
was a very cold bath, but l examined
every inch of the wells bottom and
found nothing hut a drowned pig. This
relieved our minds of all thoughts of the
we'll. While l was dressing. the men
with me took the lantern and began
searching the corral, Il lot of half an
acre containing about so half wild hogs
of some unrecognizable prairie breed.
While looking for shreds of clothing, the
men We're also to look for blood on the
jaws of such of the hogs as were white
haired
STOPPING and cropping up to my neck
in water had so chilled me that l left
the examination of the lot to the others
and bent my course toward the bontires,
quarter of a mile away TO the south
ward. Just before reaching the fires l
met my cousin. Said he: All looks
well again. The child came out of the
hogpen all right. | have found the
prints of her mOccasins in three places
in the dirt thrown out Of gopher holes.
She is following the main line of fence
southwark among the cornfelds of the
different farms. crawling back and forth
through the fence. | left her track in
the corniield of her Uncle John Lewis.
What | want You to do is to call off the
hOrsemen who are working southwark
over the prairie. | want nobody to go
in that direction to Obliterate the trail
| am following. Make the father I'M
derstand this. Tell him that, if left to
myself, | Will find his child. To con-
vince him that | know what l am about,
give him these threads which l found
in places W here his little girl had crawl
ed through the fence" and he gave Inc
three or four bright wooden threads
from fringed hood worn by the child.
| went toward the half dozen bOntires
blazing on the edge of the prairie, while
my cousin hurried away to the south
ward. 1t was now about l o'clock in
the morning and so cold that groups of
men were huddled about all the fires.
The horsenien soon came in when 1 an
nounced the news of the tracks of the
child having been found far to the south
ward of the hogpen.
The hogpen!" cried the father. He
had been kept in ignorance of the child
having been trailed into the corral.
When fully informed of what has been
related above, the father cried out,
Thank God that she passed there in
safety Soon, however, he said, But
are you sure her tracks have been found
beyond the hog lott
Yes, sure" said l. Here are
threads from the child's hood found in
places where she crawled through cracks
in the fence
The father clutched the threads, and
kissing them placed them in his vest
pocket. Il am convinced" said he.
Being informed of my cousins wishes,
Mr.. Henderson then asked all to discOn-
tinue the search until further orders.
The horsrmen dismounted and tying
their animals to the fence gathered
about the fires. Fencerails were heapeG
upon the bontirCS as freely as though
they had been ordinary cordwoOd. The
men brought corn from the adjoining
field and parched it on the cob, either
by burying the ears i'll hot embers or by
toasting them on stick. Armfuls of
corn were also brought ont for the
horses. One seemed in Il camp of Mis-
souri, jayhawiers.
Men on foot and on horseback had
been coming in all night, and cOnsid-
cradle number were still arriving, some
from farms FIVE and ten miles distant.
Altogether nearly 300 men. young and
old, were in the field. There were pres
ent representatives of about 20 families,
all nearly related to the lost child, with
old Enoch Lewis, the Quaker GRANDPA
ther at the head.
News was sent to the mother that the
child had not gone ont into the prairies
that her tracks were being followed
southwark among the cornfields of the
farms surrounding the village of West
Liberty. This was news that would re-
lieve her mind from fear of the packs of
wolves that had been yelping in the
prairie to the northward. The cowardIy
brutes would not venture southwark
past the bonfires and the crowds of men
about them.
About o'clock l stole away from
the camp and went in search of my
cousin. | followed the main fence lead
ing south. l came II There the fence
formed the dividing line between the
Gregg and Bozarth farms, but still had
not found my man. Climbing the fence
of the Gregg farm into great corn
field, l again moved along the line of