Waterbury evening Democrat., 1895-01-02
A GRAVE FOR TWO.
A BrOther,s Search, and How It Came to
 Tragic End.

A GRAVE FOR TWO.
 A Brothers Search. and How It Came to a Tragic End. One day in 1867, when the Indians were making their last fight in western Kan sas, he came into our cavalry camp and was directed to headquarters. He was q young man, not yet past a3, and his story was known to 50 men even before 1t had been told to the general. You could have guessed it after looking into his face. He was but one of a hundred husbands, brothers, fathers or sons who had come on the same errand. The pioneers had pushed on and on despite the danger from Indians, and now and then n war party had raided in this or that direction and killed, burned or desolated. Sometimes they had spared a woman or boy or girl and carried them of captive. It was so in this case. Five years before he sought cur assistance the redskins had swooped down one day and killed father and mother and carried of n daughter 10 years of age. He, her brother, was hardly more than a lad then, but he determined to rescue her and had no other | object in life. He had incurred dangers, hRrdships and disappOintments almost be- yond belief, but nothing would make him LuEh uSluc 11S WOuIu COLllIut luS SSdTCLl | for the captive sister until she was either rescued or he was wiped out.
 Such cases excited every troopers sym pathics but it was rare that we could do moro than extend sympathy. Every com mand was constantly marching and fight i ing and shifting about, and the Indian | villages, where a captive would be hidden | away, wcre swiftly moved to avoid us or located in a country inaccessible to caval- ry. We expected to see the young man ride away as others had done, but he did l not go. He was to be one of us during the | campaign, which would take him into a country he had never penetrated before Now and then he had heard news of the captive, and he believed she was still | alive. He would ride with us, fight with | us, endure our hardships and make no | complaint for the one chance In a hundred that we might rescue his loved sister from l the hands of the merciless redskins He was with us for weeks and months, but our comradeship did not go beyond cer- | tain point. When he sat at a campfire, there was no joking. From first to last We never saw him smile His presence awed us. His mission was so sacred in our eyes ! that We seldom spoke of it to one another. | When he did, it was in whispers, and aft | CT we had made sure he was not among us, | From tho day we started out on the | campaign the scouts aided the young man | in every possible way. Hunters, prospect | ors, trappers, pioneers and hOstilcs wound l ed unto death as they opposed us in battle | were all questioned as to the captive. | Some had never heard of her; some de | clared her dead; others could have given information, but stubbornly refused. However. as we penetrated tho hostile country farther and farther, hope came to I hn hrnN hnr nrf Now tn Inn that his sister was alive and well, and as | we raided the country who could tell but | that we might overhaul her, with fleeing | squaws and children, or charge into the l village which was home to her One day l fate brought 1t about. We had followed | an old trail until 1t frcshened, followed | the fresh trail until We located q village. It was two hours after dark before our scouts were sure of their game, and we ] were not to attack until daylight We I drew back behind the hills and thickcts to wait. No fires were built, no sound from 1 the bugles. Each man moved about on tiptoe and spoke in whispers. Perhaps all | slept but the sCntinCls and the young man. Hc knew that the end of his search 1 was at hand. His sister was alive and in | the village before us. We should attack, we were certain to gain tho victory, and
 before the red sun was above the plains he would be talking with the long lost one. l He did not even cast himself down that long night. but paced up and down and back and forth till the sentinels wondered at his endurance.
 At tho first signs of daylight the men were aroused. Ten minutes later each trooper was in his saddle. With the horses at a walk the command moved down on the village until the dogs gave the alarm.
 Then it was trot, gallop, charge, and we
 burst upon the 50 wigwams like a hurri- cano. Though taken by surprise, the In dians made a fight for it. Even the squaws
 and children fought us. We drove them out
 of the grove, away from the banks of the crock, down past the bend in the stream,
 but they moved Grudgingly and fought to
 the last. Resistance had almost ceased
 whom a score of us saw young Indian
 girl dash out of tho very last wigwam to
 the west. She first started to run away
 over the plain; but, coming upon tho dead
 body of a warrior, she stopped and picked
 up his rifle and stood for Is seconds as If ! selecting a victim. We could have shot
 her down, but We wero shooting only al
 tho bucks. The young man searching fol
 his sister was among the first in the vii
 lage. As inc saw the girl with the rife in
 her hands he put spurs to his horse and
 dashed forward and shouted the name oi
 Mary His horse had ot moved 30 feet
 when the rifle was lifted, held with firm
 grip for a feS seconds and Gs a jet oi
 Aame left it's muzzle the young man threw
 up his hands and tumblcd from the sad
 dTer shot through the head. Some one on
 the right flank discharged his carbine, and , the girl fell in her tracks. We rode doar
 to her. and one glimpse of her face brought
 a groan from every man. It was the long lost sister! Her csptors had sought tC "IR -:0nize" her, but her chestnut hair
 her features, the white skin showing
 through tho tan, told us who she was at q
 glance.
 She had become an Indian in spirit, and
 she had died with the others in defense ol
 the camp. A double grave, few word.
 of wonder and regret-that was the end.
 NJ QUAD