Santa Fe daily New Mexican. [volume] (Santa Fe, N.M.) 1885-1897, 1895-01-30
YELLOW FEATHER.

Clayson was fine looking fellow, trim
built from his feet to his head, and he
dressed to lose none of his natural advan-
tages. But what really gave him his air
of distinction was not his clothes nor his
manner of wearing them. 1t was the long
blond mustache that he constantly twisted
and UNFINISHED at the ends 1t was mus
tache so imposing and ornamental in its
waving color that the Indians, quick to
seize salient points of personality for chris
tening, named him "Yellow Feather" the
day he arrived on the reserve. Still Clay
son was more than a man with q mus
tache.
He certainly was not straining his fac
ulties as he sauntered from evening sta
bles" to tbs officers clubroom in the
traders store on a bright day in May not
many years ago. To tell the truth, there
was nothing especial in his mind until he
turned the corner Of the building. Then
he suddenly reused to mental activity, al
though the cause might seem trivial to
others-it was only q squaw, and squaws
were common, very common, in that Vi
cinity. She turned her head, and he saw
such eyes as he never before had seen in
human head. They looked straight into
his brain-and staid there.
The squaw was on her pony, slowly rid
ing away. He then noticed for the first
time that her hair hung loose down her
back. She was married woman. When
she reached tho end of the corral wall and
just before she made the turn, she glanced
back, and that glance found him. The
light in those Turing eyes said, "Follow
me!''
His impulse was to call to passing
man and order his horse, but fortunately
the logic in his mind asserted itself and
told him that he could not trail after a
squaw in broad daylight. He thought of
something else and re.entered the store to
act upon that thought He bought pound
of tobacco and several bundles of cigarette
papers and with his purchase sought San
chez, the interpreter, in his camp below
the post
He missed retreat" and lost his dinner
at the mess before flnesse and tobacco had
drawn from Sanchez that Tinta was Mex
lean captive, captured as babe and aft
erward reared as the only child of Bonito,
head soldier Of the Chiricahuas. She had
recently married Ramona, young SUBJ
chief, but within q moon from the we'd
ding feast they had quarreled, and, strange
to all the tribe she had asserted her rights
Apache women have rights-that is, prop
erty rights. She gathered her ponies and
drove them to her fathers herd. Now she
dwelt in Bonito's lodge, and it an open
question how many ponies Ramona must
pay before he got back his bride-the num-
Der depended upon her sweet will as ex-
pressed through the arbitrator, Bonito.
Ramona had begun to bid. And Sanchez
flung away the end of the fifteenth ciga-
rette, with the admonition, "Tinta is heap
muncho dangerous gamer'
With the rising of the next sun Clayson
was three miles up the north fork inspect
ing the troop gardens. He wished to SEQ
the dew on the cabbage sparkle in the
early light; besides the main camp Of the
Chiricahuas was in the bottom land on
the opposite side, and Bonito's lodge stood
by itself close to the river bank.
It may have been the sound Of an iron
shoe striking the rocks, or it may have
been fatality-anyhow Tinta came from
the lodge while Clayson' g horse was drink
ing, knee deep in the stream. He refined
up the horse head and urged him through
the water straight for those eyes. She
smiled welcome, and there, in the hiding
shadows of the tall oottonwoods, he kissed
her.
But shadows are never dark enough. 1t
soon passed from squaw to squaw In the
village that "Yellow Feather" rode to
Bonlto's lodge, and, like the fame of a
leaping prairie fire, the word swept on till
1t reached Ramona in the upper camp In
the mountains And as luck would have
it at that time the upper camp was drink
ing ''tizwin' and dancing for war. So Ra-
| none drank tlzwin with increased vigOr
| and danced with the other wild spirits,
| while his Unborn general hate for the
| whites concentrated to one fierce, burning
hate for one white.
| The big moon came, and with 1t the last
dance in the upper camp. The old and the
| tender were sent down to the main camp
on the river, while the strong and active,
full Of Irwin and hell, dashed into the
night to make q merry killing in their
line Of flight. All the young bucks were
| In the ride save one-Ramone was toe
drunk to mount or move. Three hours
later, by the light Of the same big moon,
two troops Of cavalry had found and were
on the trail Of the "bronchos" at the upper
camp The next morning the agent, visit.
| ing the main camp to count somewhat
scattered flock and separate the sheep from
the goats, as they had already separated
| themselves, found Ramona, tag, number
and all, present to be counted az one Of the
remnant of Sheep He really was meek al
q lamb, sleeping most Of the day in the
brush near his mothers lodge, but COCA.
sionally waking to hear the frightened
talk of women and children. Once he
heard that the black horse and the gray
horse soldiers were on the trail, and he
knew that Yellow Feather rode with the
grays.
He ate his supper in sullen silence, fol
the tribe was not unit on the outbreak.
Then, when the twilight merged into
night, he saddled his war pony and left
the camp.
Ramona knew the rendezvous; also the
water holes and the rough, rugged noun
tains between. He Hoped along on q trail
of his own making, heading for the far
peak Of the Black range, travelling mostly
by night and mapping BY day. On the
third sun he cut the trail Of his friends,
| Within an easy ride Of the high peak, but
| found no signs Of shod horses upon 1t. He
had headed the soldiers. He could 60 ON
or wait for the procession to pass, Just a.
he saw IT. Perhaps Yellow Feather was
not with the soldiersi II he was not, there
yet was time enough for Ramona to b
80 :