The Mount Holly news. [volume] (Mount Holly, Burlington Co., N.J.) 1891-1942, 1894-03-20
A BRAGGART IN LOVE

New YORK Ledger
A BRAGGART IN LOVE.
The women had gone to the drawing
room, and we had finished first cigars,
when the conversation struck on matri-
mony. We were all married men, ex-
planning how it happened. The other
guests had told in turn their little story
in the free confidence one easily feels at
the end of perfect dinner. l had re-
lated my romance, and we now turned
to our host.
Marlin, how did you win your wife?"
cts long story-began ON hunting
pass in the Arizona desert, crossed the
water and ended in Colorado. Light
fresh cigars. No, I'll take Mexican.
Butler, bring the chartreuse-green for
me, if you please. F"
| think it was the summer of 1886.
Geronimo was not yet taken, and we
had been chasing in our turn until, for
lack of backs and feet, our horses were
tagging in the race, and we were set to
watch water holes in the San Simon, so
polluted with alkali and arsenic a SEN
sible savage would have Stunned it, as
my dyspepsia. which dates from that
campaign, tells me l failed to do.
Somehow the Geronimo campaign
reminded me of fox chase-the Indian
scout1 keeping their noses close to the
scent, like dogs, too slow to force the
bush into the open, while the various
troops, like hunters in different wind,
held and lost the place which promised
first at the finish If you know Arizona
at all, You will recall how sharp and
rocky are the crests of the divides. Be-
ing lines of most resistance in this land
of deep erosion, they retain the sharp,
jagged profile often seen in the snow
ice of mountain drifts as it disappears
in early summer. Below these scoops
lie colony of rounded foothills reced-
ing and growing less until they end in
broken bowlder mesa, which, with
numerous arroyos, fades into the soft,
level adobe plain and blends as unsus-
pected as the canvas walls of a CYCLIC
rama Join the rocks and logs in the pit
below you.
The Indians preferred these sharp
crests, which were for them both watch
towers and impregnable bastions. Oc-
casionally they would strike across the
valley, kill a rancher and steal fresh
ponies and some troop would cut in
and crowd them in the open till they
took the next divide and met some bar
rier that baked the pursuers and forced
on them detour, while some other
troop, through accident of locality,
would tack and take the chosen place
on the trail, giving for a few days its
dust to the other pursuing columns. 1t
was weary stern chase, performed I'M
der burning skies of cloudless blue in
thirsty land of heat intolerable. And it
was best expressed by our lieutenant,
who on being informed by certain
captain of "Nubian Horse" that he was
after Geronimo replied, Yes, captain,
long way after. 1t was like cutting
cards for an ace or calling the turn at
roulette or faro to tell which one of
bOlHO 80 AlOODo WOuiQ 10 III ttb iliO QEdtlA.
We had had our little squirt, had
brushed them off the divide and for
three days led in the open across the
valley to the Sierra Madre, where fresh
er horsehesh cut i'll from our right and
took from us the place of honor and left
us, foot sore and back sore and winded,
at the base of the mountains. where we
were ordered a days march back into
the valley near the border to guard wa
ter holes of the San Simon in the sullen
month of August The nights were get
ting bearable, but the day heat still held
ON with the stubborn insistance of
southern summer. Our camp was not
happy-the water was bad, our shelter
halves, but little thicker than cheese
cloth, proved leaky sunshades, and we
REINFORCED them with our saddle
blankets. We had no amusement except
to growl wish we were in the chase
and wonder whose blooming intellect
had squatted us down upon ella mon
sters and sand flies to watch water so
foul neither soil nor sun would drink it.
The local sports of the cantonment
were disguised. A week before they
were giving odds, 10 to 3, on us in
the race and now used pool checks to
light cigarettes from the candles about
the cook fire. There was not a drop of
anything in camp. The tobacco was
running low. The only pack of cards
was monte layout" our packer had
scraped from horse hide with piece of
broken glass.
Something was going to happen, for
the strain was telling ON men S nerves.
The weather was too hot for camp idle
ness, and we were near the Line. l
was first sergeant of l. troop then, and
next to a coward or a thief l think
loathed deserter We were near the
border of Mexico where one must not
cross, but where smuggling is permit
ted and vice possible.
The men were getting irritable
knew the signs; the tension was reach
ing swapping point. | had been think
ing of it all day That evening John
Leighton and | were working under the
orderly fly at the records were post
ing Waugh and Murray's finals" in
the clothing and descriptive books.
Waugh was corporal and Murray our
blacksmith, who had been killed the
weely before ON the day we pushed the
Apaches off the divide. We were crowd
ing them too closely in the lower pass,
when a few bucks slipped off into the
canyon and nipped our pack train in
rear. We had to quit pressing in front
to save our train. 1t was clever bit
of work, ard five bucks did it, killing
two men foI us, losing us our game
just as we were bagging it.
Leighton was company clerk, a tai
ented, handsome fellow-had served
out in India. He had cheering fresh
ness and facility of expression and spoke
with the quick, falling infection and
directness of the English in speech one
80 quickly learns to love. He was me-
chanically ruling double red ink lines
in book where life account of serv-
ices had been credited and closed, much
as handbook is ruled when state
ment is rendered from balance struck.
The words died. or deserted" placed
in red ink in the small space below
showed the cause of closing for service
abruptly terminated. The usual remark
was Discharged by expiration term of
service" in black ink.
Sergeant, and whose will be the
next bloody 'D2' asked Leighton,
without a ring of feeling.
"There'll be plenty of 'em if this
J blooming heat continues and we remain