The Salt Lake herald. [volume] (Salt Lake City [Utah]) 1870-1909, 1894-08-05

East Of it and over toward the upper
end of SKIS post there remained many
clumps of wild vegetation, and if any
doubts existed at o'clock of the near
presence Of Apaches in force, they were
banished at 2:30, for G troop, tumbling
out in hot haste and formed in fightinAs
line, went down the slope in single rank,
out over the post of poor Ruckel lying
there skewered with Tonic Shafts, and
in dispersed order with carbines at
ready, they beat through that chap
paral, stirring up the jack rabbits by
the score and, later on, finding here and
there and in a dozen spots the track of
Tonic moccasin-unmistakab as the
footprints Of a moose, but finding not
a single Tonic. Fleetest of mountain
warriors, they had made their recon-
naissance, and then while some drew
Fosters troop toward the Ration
Springs, others, slipping in behind, had
crept noiselessly within ten yards Of
the drowsy sentry, lolling in fancied
security along his shadowy path, pass
ing and repassing between their lair
and the starlit southern sky. until,
crawling upon him, sinuous and slow
and patient as the boa constructor, they
had struck at one and the same in
slant and dropped him in his tracks
with no more than one gurgling, mar
t1culate cry, then sped away for the
foothills.
Wh1le Raymond'S men were beating
the bush, their comrades of f troop
had saddled and led into line ut the
stables. 1t was 3:15 when the dismount-
ing company came swinging back up
the slope. silent. vengeful, yet thrilling
bit with the sense of unseen danger.
thornton by this time was fully
a fn f11A
warfare
1T will be daybreak soon" he said.
and 1 want you, Turner, to push out
on the trail of those beggars and run
them to earth If a possible thing. RAY
mond will remain with me. They must
belong to some bigger band hereabouts.
God grant it isn't along the Sandy
now"
InvoluntariIy as he spoke he turned
and looked to the west. There stood
old Signal Butte-dark and silent still.
NO sign of beacon fire there There
lay the dim and distant ruins of the old
post, down in the depths Of the shad-
oWy valley. No sign of danger or ex-
cltement. Yet if the Apaches dare
stalk the sentries of big command as
these had done, what would they not
dare with so small detachment as
Cranes? And then those unprotected
women and children at Kelly's ranch!
thornton had seen exciting times dur
ing the Rebellion, but women and child
rem never entered into those calcula-
tons. 1t was after when Raymond's
men returned from their fruitless quest.
turner's troop had gone out to the sta
bles and not word had come from
roster, not sign from the Sandy VAL
ley to tell that Leon had safely reached
the post. Nervously the Major paced
up and down his broad varanda now.
every little while pausing to address
some query or instruction to officers or
men Fastening by. Lights were fit
ting about in every set of quarters and
on every side.
Everybody was astir, even the child
rem. Over at the east the stars were
beginning to pale in the faint, pallid light
OF the coming morn, and little by little
the Jagged outline of the Mogollon
range grew sharp and clear against the
reddening sky. Over at the west
the peaks began to warm and
glow IN answer, while at their base the
valley of the Sandy still lay dark and
unrevealed. Nearly o'clock-no
further word from Foster. Could he
nave sent courierS from the springs.
who, riding carelessIy. confidently
homeward, had met poor Ruckers fate?
Certainly by 3 o'clock he should have
been heard from, and here it was al
AAiOoI Ooy A4Sill. LII IGIl just as
soon as coffee could be served, Tur-
ner with his troop would push away
on his scout, and then, all on a sud-
den, the old anxiety flashed again up
on the Major. Nearly 4 o'clock, and
Icons signal had not been fired.
Great heavens! were the Apaches on the
westward road, then, after all? Was
that brave little life another sacrifice?
Taking Raymond and his adjutant with
him, the Major once more tramped out
to the westward. There over the
tumbling sea of rock and gorge and
betting cliff the cleaning tip of old
San Pedro peered at them, his rugged
tanks robed in royal purple, but even
Signal Butte in the lower valley lay
shrouded in gloom. In low tone the
sentry No. 4 challenged at their ap-
proach. He recognized the voices of
his officers, but orders compelled him to
demand further token. Friends with
the countersign," answered the adju-
tant half impatiently, as though to say
I've weren't coming on or across your