The watchman and southron. [volume] (Sumter, S.C.) 1881-1930, 1894-05-02
CHAPTER XII.

~~~ &oRZM'
CHAPTER XII.
II is a sultry day, early in July, and
the sun is going westward through a
feet Of white, wind driven clouds that
send a host of deep shadows sweeping
and chasing over the wide prairie.
Northward the view is limited by a
low range of bluffs. destitute Of tree or
foliage, bat covered thickly with the
summer growth of bunch grass. South
ward, three miles away at least. though
il seems much less, a similar range,
pierced here and there with deep ra-
vines, frames the picture on that side.
Midway between the two ridges and
hinged with clumpe of cottonwood and
willow, q languid stream flows silently
eastward and is lost with the valley In
the dim distance. Out to the west in
long, gradual curve the southwark range
veers around and spans the horizon:
Midway across this monotone of land
scape, cutting the stream at right an
giles, hard prairie road comes twist
ing and turning out of oneo of the south
EN- rayines. and after a long. gradual
dip to the ford among the co.tonwoods
energies from their leafy shade and
goes winding away until lost among
the breaks" to the north. It is one Of
the routes to the Black Hills of Dakota
the wagon road from the Union Pa
cifc at Sidney by way Of old Fort Rob
inson, Neb., where a big garrison of
some ID companies Of cavalry and in
fantry keep watch and ward over the
Sioux nation, which, one year previous,
was IN the midst Of the maddest, most
successful war it ever waged against
the white man. That was the centen-
NAL year-1S76. This is another event
full year. for the cayaly-1877; for be-
fore the close Of the summer even the
troops SO far Il the southeast are destined
TO Be- summoned to the chase and capture
Of wary old Chief Josepn-the greatest
Indian general ever reared upon the
Pacific slope-and even now. on this
July day, here are cavalrymen at their
accustomed task, and though it is five
years since wa saw them under the
heat and glare Of the Arizona sun there
are familiar faces among these that
greet Us.
All along under the cottonwoods be-
low the crossing the biyouac extends.
Long before sunrise these hardy fellows
were in saddle, and In long column
have come marching down from the
north-four strong troops typical
battalion of regular cavalry as they
looked and rode in those stirring days
that brought about the subjugation Of
the Sioux. Out ON the prairie the four
herds Of the four different troops are
quietly grazing. each herd watched by
It's THO Of alert, though often apparent
II doing, guards. One troop is made
up entirely OF black horses. another of
sorrels-two are of bays. Another
herd is grazing close to the stream
the mules Of the wagon train-and the
white tops OF these cumbrous vehicles
are dotting the left bank Of the winding
water for 200 or 500 yards. Cook fires
are smoldering in little pits dug in
the yielding soil, but the cooking is
over for the present. The men have had
their substantial dinner and. are now
smoking or sleeping or chatting In
groups In the shade-all but a squad
of a dozen, commanded by a grizzled
veteran ON whose worn blouse the chew
IONS Of a frst sergeant are stitched.
Booted andspurred, with carbines slnng
and saddles packed, these sun tanned
fellows + standing OF sitting at ease,
holding the reins Of their sleepy charg-
ems and waiting apparently for the pas
sengexs who are to start IN the stout
built Concord drawn by four sleek,
strong looking mules, nov standing in
the shade a the canvas homestead
of the commanding officer.
Presently two soldiers following q
young man in civilian dress come for
ward Juggling a little green painted iron
safe, and this, with aswing and a thud.
they deposit in the wagon.
You've seen that before, sergeant, !"
laughs the civilian.
II have. begad, an when it had a
heap more green inside AN less outside
than it has now. Faith, I never ex-
pected to see it again, nor the paymaste1
either. We were both bored through
an through. Twas our good habits
that saved us. Sure your predecessor
was a game fighter, Nj. Barnes. if he
was a tenderfoot."
.Yes. the major often tells me he
wishes he had him back, and me in the
place he has instead Of the one he had. .
answer the clerk whimsically. does
he know you re to command the escort
in? You got him into such a scrape
then that he's never tired of telling Of
it."
Then he may feel gratided at the
honor I am doing him now Sure it's
beneath the dignity Of first sergean,
to command a squad like this except
On an extraordinary occasion. an it's tc