The San Francisco call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1895-1913, 1895-04-14

to Bunko Jim's. Bowlng, as became the
soldier of the republic, to the supremacy
of the civil law, Fenton swallowed the
lesson, though he did not the whisky, but
Jim had his full share of customers from
the fort, and the greatest of these, it soon
transpired, was the big recruit speedily
known throughout the command as
though Tom" Graice.
Joining the regiment at the end of Sep
TENDER, it was less than month before he
was as well, though not as favorably,
known as the sergeant-maior. There Is
more than one way of being conspicuous
in the military service. and Graice had
chosen the worst. Even the recruits who
came with him from the depot, the last lot
to be shipped from that once-crowded gar
ner of food for POWDER" could tell moth
ing of his antecedents, though they were
full of gruesome detail of his doings since
enlistment. He was an expert at cards
and billiards, said they, for they had found
1t out to their sorrow, and demon when
aroused by drink. Twice in drunken rage
he had assaulted comparatively inoffensive
men, and only the prompt and forcible
intervention of comrades had prevented
murder on the spot, while the traditional
habit of the soldier of telling no tales had
saved him from justly merited punish
ment. Within the month of his arrival
Graice had made giant strides to notoriety.
He was powerful fellow, with fine com
mand of language and an educatson far
superior to the general run of non-com-
missioned officers and it was among the
younger set of these he first achieved
certain stand.
Protesting to hold himself above the
private soldier, proving himself an excel
lent rider and an expert in drill, with car
bine or saber, he, nevertheless, declared it
was his first enlistment and gave it to be
understood that difficulty with the Sheriff
who sought to arrest him had been the
means of bringing him to the temporary
refuge of the ranks. For the first few
weeks, too, he drank but little, and wear
ing his uniform with the ease and grace of
one long accustomed to the buttons, and
being erect and athletic in build, he pre-
sented a very creditable appearance. The
bloated, bloodshot look he wore on his ar
rival the result of much surreptitious
whisky en- route, passed somewhat away
and it was only when one studied his face
that the traces of intemperance, added to
the sullen brows of shifting. restless eyes,
banished the claim to good looks that were
at first accorded him. From the first how
ever, the older sorgeants and such veterans
among the corporals as Terry Rorke,
looked askance at Trooper Graice. "An-
other guardhouse lawyer" said the first
sergeant of Leale's troop, as he disgustedIy
received the adiutant's notification OF
dSSlSHDQtnI.
thin jailbirds like Mr.. American Blood,
the newspaper pet" said Rorke, in high
disdain. We'll have a circus with him,
too, as they had in the Eleventh, or I'm
Jew Where have | seen that sweet mug
of him before?" he added, rehectively, as
he watched the newcomer surlily scrub
bing at his kit, and the newcomer, glancing
sideways at the Irish corporal, seemed to
read his thoughts although too far away
to hear his muttered words. 1t was plain
to every man in G troop that there was apt
to be no love lost between Terence Rorke
and Tommy the Tough.
And there was another still who wore
the simple dress of a private soldier, whose
eyes, black, piercing and full of expression,
were constantly following that new recruit,
and that was the Sioux Indian, Grow
Knife, a youth barely 10 years of age. He
had been a boy scout before the days OF the
ghost-dance craze. A valued and trusted
ally of the white soldiers he had borne dis
patches up to the very moment when Kill
Eagles mad Drained ultimatum drove his
band into revolt and launched them on the
warpath. With them went Crow Knife's
father and mother, and the boy rode wildly
in pursuit. He was with them, striving
to induce his mother to abandon the
village, when the warriors made their
descent on the ranches of the Dry Fork,
and later, when Farrars fierce attack
burst upon them like a thunderbot
through the snow clouds, Selling his
mother in his arms the boy shielded and
saved her when Leale's vengeful men
rushed upon the nearest Indians, when
unquestlonably, yet unavoidably, some
squaws received their death wound in the
furious fight that followed Farrar's death
wound Recognized and rescued by his
former friends, Crow Knife went back to
Frayne when the brief but bloody cam
paign was ended, and then was sent to the
Indian School at Carlisle. Returning in
the course of three years, he had been en-
listed in what was left of the Indian troop
of the Twelfth, and was one of the few
of his tribe who really made a success of
soldering. BY the autumn of this event
full year Crow Knife's comrades were rap
idly being discharged and returning to
their blankets and lodge life at the reserva-
ton, or hanging about the squalid cattle
town across the river. Crow Knife, sticking
to his cavalry duty and showing unlocked
for devotion to his officers, was regarded by
the Twelfth as an exceptional case, and
was made much of accordingly.
What do you think of the fellow,
Crow?" asked Corporal Rorke one day as
he watched the expression in the Indians !
face. "You don't like him any more than
do. What's the reason?'
There is a saying among my people"
was the answer. in the low, measured
tones of one who thought in another
tongue, 'eyes that cannot meet eyes guide
hands that strike foul. He-that-stab
the-dark is the name we give such as that
man."
"D'ye know him, Crow2 Did We never
see him ~ persisted Terry. Ever since
the day he came the captain has had his
eye on him, and SO have you, and so have
/. l can't ask the captain, but can you,
Where have you seen him before ?'
But Crow Knife shook his head. 81 can
not remember his face. 1t is his back |
seem to know. Ny people say that way
they see their enemies.''
To be continued.
Copyright, 1898.