Birmingham age-herald., 1895-03-17
BATTLE FOR A BRIDE

legends had always been an attractive study, when my eyes fell upon the face of young girl of their band It was most wonderfully beautiful and fascinating.
 The girl held herself strangely aloof from tho rest of her people.
 Ono day happened to be near one of tho mess fires when the men were cooking supper, and one of them used some coarse ribaldry in his reference to Marata, for such was her name.
 Quick as flash one of his companions, Edward Robson, a young giant of plains man, sprang at him with the ferocity of tiger, and thenceforward the careless jester carried gap in his teeth as me- mento of his rashness. a11 ssH -aW
 One day late in July the sun had drop. ped so low that we were in tho grateful shadow of tho hills to tho westward. and the small mess fires were beginning to show their yellow glare among the trees in preparation for the evening meal. Robson was talking earnestly with Marata.
 ' Am I never to sec you where can talk to you as wantP' he asked in the Navajo 1 tongue You know I love you, Marata, and that shall make you my wife when I get my discharge, and we shall be happy then together. But 1t Is too long to wait I must see you and talk to you of the plans have for our lives.
 He told her that he was to be on picket duty that night, and sho consented to join him and fly with him. Their signal was to be the howl of coyote.
 When they were gone, another figure, orouched in clump of bushes, straight ened itself from it's cramped position and raised its hands with a savage gesture.
 It was the Indian Wild Horse, who had slipped into this concealment, where he could hear the lovers intercourse and Marata s promise.
 When Robson went to his post on picket that night, it was with heart beating high and eyes kindled with gleam of satisfac tion.
 With step as light as boys he paced back and forth, back and forth, humming to himself beneath his breath the melody of 0 fervid Spanish love song
 "Only g o'clock" he said impatiently at length. That means long wait yet, for she said she would not come until ull was quiet But would wait for years if I expected her to come at last
 . Harkl A dreary, dismal howl came to him on tho night air, making his heart leap. Could 1t be the signalf Yes, there it came again and again! Surely it must be Marata, for the cry swelled and waned, long drawn and sad as the cry of the lost. Robson hid his rife in a thicket, then drew it out again.
 1T must have my rife in case I should be seen by one of the other piokets," he said He slung it across his shoulder and stole with stealthy step out into the shadows.
 "Marata''
 D. "Here' voice answered him from the darkness
 And the inpatient lover swung himself down the cliff with the aid of the over hanging bushes and stunted trees.
 ''Maratal" ho called again eagerly.
 And again the voice answered close at hand, and he saw dim figure outlined in the obscure shadows of the canyon, where the starlight only penetrated 1tfully. It was not Marata, for the dim light showed him an uplifted arm and the pale glitter of steel blade descending, and he felt tho sharp pain of the knife in his shoulder, stumbled and fell, sliding helplossly down the slope to the bottom of the canyon.
 It was the fall that saved him, for oth- erwise his assailant would have leaped up on him, and another thrust of the cruel knife would have sent him out into the unknown As it was, he had time to re- cover himself, stagger to his feet and draw his own knife before Wild Horse could swing himself down the wall of rock to renew the attack.
 Robson's years of frontier service had made him as skillful with the knife ns the Indian himself, and he was no less 1.-the and strong in body and courageous in heart But as they bent, swayed and struggled, watchful and wa,y, the wound in Robsons shoulder began to tell and the loss of blood to weaken him.
 A strange feeling of languor took pos session of him, the glitter of the stars seemed farther away, and then they danced before his very eyes as he stumbled and slipped over the rough stones.
 Blindly he staggered. His nerveless hand could hardly hold the knife. It was growing darker, darker. Suddenly there came flash and roar from the wall of the canyon. Wild Horse screamed in agony, threw his arms aloft and fell upon the stones But Robson did not heed nor see. The whole earth rceled before him, and ho sank into inconsistencies. When he awoke, a fro lit up the canyon, group of curious soldiers stood about him, and his head was pillowcd upon Marata's breast
 Wild Horse came first,'' she whispered when he could listen. 'I saw him slip away and steal down the canyon, and followed us fast as I could, for knew he meant harm. But I could not keep up with him. heard the struggle and camo down into the canyon. Upon the wall my foot struck the rife lying among the stones, and it was with that I shot him. Tho great spirit put it in my way"
 Robson did not answer in words. He was smiling peacefully, and his glad eyes answered for him. .-Exchange ga ----- %93 Pasteur's Work.