The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1894-12-13
IN THE NICK OF TIME.
A True Story of Adventures on
the Great Plains.

tieth year, is still as alert and active
as are most men of fifty.
Uncle Dan" as everyone calls him.
is an intelligent and fairly well edu-
Gated man, quite unlike what many
people suppose the pioneers of western
travel to be. He forsook a wandering
life more than a quarter century ago,
married and settled down IN Michigan
TO enjoy his well-earned competence
Having myself been for many years
a California and Australian gold dig
ger, Dams "reminiscences of those times
greatly interested me; as | trust, his
last story may do my readers. l give
1t, nearly as possible, in his own
words promising that during the
whole narrative he never, for himself
or others, used the uncouth dialect
which some imaginative writers are
fond of ascribing to all the early Cali
fornia gold seekers, whereas, as a mat
ter of fact, only the uneducated and
rougher class of these men ever spoke
in such fashion. But to Dams story,
which, from his well proved veracity,
is, l ain sure, entirely true:
On the 18th of July, 1850, when l was
young fellow of twentysix, our over
land train, consisting of four prairie
schooners" and thirty men, beside our
guide, old Bill Somers, reached the
western part of Arizona without hav-
ing lost man.
Early that morning we crossed the
Big Sandy, eight or ten miles above
its junction with the Santa Maria, and
little south of Hualapai mountain, a
certain pass through the foothills of
which we designed to take. This
route, of Bills own choosing, lay far
to the south of that usually followed.
Hence we found no trail-no wheel
marks nor foot prints-to guide us;
but as Somers felt confident of find
ing the desired short cut, we did not
trouble ourselves about that
On coming to the foothills, how
ever, and inspecting several ravines in
succession, he declared all to be i'm
practicable. But" said he to Tom
Granger, our captain, 81 know there's
pass hereabouts. | went through it
alone in 40, and I'm bound to hit it
off. Keep your train where it is, Tom,
while | go ahead and climb one of
those cottonwOOds, to look around
bit. I'll be. back in half an hour,
sure"
80, leaving his horse and rife be-
hind, the guide set off on foot and
quickly disappeared among the quak-
! ing ash bushes at the foot of a noun
tain spur.
We all watched the tall cottonwood
trees growing higher up, expecting
every moment to see him shining up
one of them; but we never did
The half hour and another passed
away; yet not a sight nor sound of
Bill could we see or hear.
Its mighty queer at last grumbled
Tom Granger What on earth can
keep the old man?"
"Oh, he'll be back directly" said
some one. Likely he's found a pass
that looks about right and is tracing
1t out to make sure. He's safe enough
or we'd have heard shot or two from
his revolver"
Now, since entering Arizona, we'd
had two ugly scrimmages with
Apaches, but as we hadn't seen one,
nor an Indian of any kind, for the last
week, we couldn't think of any posi-
Bile harm happening to our friend.
Any one of us might have lost himself
in the foothills, but such an idea in
connection with the guide was absurd.
Still he didn't come. 1t was getting
late in the forenoon, and there we
were-loafng around and doing moth
ing.
With the exception of Abe johnson,
n forty-fve- year-old Kentuckian, we
were all young men, knowing only so
much OF Indian ways as we had learned
on our present journey; but Abe had
served both in the Seminole and Mexi-
can wars, and was pretty well posted
in regard to the ''varmints'" wiles
When first organizing, we had elected
him to the captaincy, an honor which
he modestly declined. saying that the
young giant, Tom Granger, was far
more fit for it than he.
Well, when ten o'clock had come,
without sign of Somers, Abe began
to suspect mischief.
stay right here, boys" he said
It'll l make a little scout" And off
he went in the direction previously
taken by the guide.
We saw him at intervals and again
lost sight of him, exactly as we had
done with Bill, but, unlike the latter,
he came safely back in thirty minutes
or so, looking much distressed.
Boys" he quietly said, you want
to wheel right about and form a corral
out on the open plain, forty rods clear
of cover. Poor Bills in the hands Of
the Indians, sure. The varmints have
sneaked up and lassoed him, or struck
him down before he could pull trigger
or give the alarm. saw the trail
where they hauled him way down
into pass he'd found. and they're
hiding in there now, waiting for us to
come along"
DO you think they've killed Som
ersP" asked Granger.
mo, cap, l don't believe he's hurt a
mite, for l don't see a drop of blood
anywhere" replied Abe. THE reds
have likely choked him senseless and
dragged him off to be tortured to
death. And, boys, we've got to rescue
him before shutdown; for when those
HauilS Caa no ,.,a'ra NOT E. II