Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1896-01-10
JANUARY


perhaps he wasn't hero; only poor, ig-
norant, uncouth cub of boy, with man
ners that would have scared dear little
Lord Fauntleroy' to death. But then
this cub had lived, in his few years, with
men, and had grown strangely like them;
which perhaps, after all, isn't the worst
thing that can happen to a boy. He had
seen men lying out on the skirmish line,
shot to DEATH he had felt an Indian bull
let Craze his own cheek; he had learned to
live on short rations without murmur;
and he had blown "taps" oyer his own
fathers grave. And this is a great deal
for boy of sixteen to have gone through.
He had been taken on in the troop when
he was twelve me and the general fixed
it up at Washington" was the way he eX-
planned it to any one who asked him. 1t
was a special enlistment, and in conse-
quence the kid felt the dignity and i'm
portance of his position. And what was
the name of this youngster? II doesn't
matter. Thirty-four was his troop num-
Der, and they called him Stubs.
The new batch had been in the troop al
most year, and as yet had not had taste
of real scouting.
"Not much excitement in this" said
one of them to the kid, as they lay out
back of the adobe quarters, one hot sum.
mer afternoon, trying to cool off The kid
had at last conquered the big black pipe,
and was now smoking with all the assur-
ance of a veteran.
"Naw, but it'll come before long; they
always raise the devil this time of the
year" They meant the Apaches. The
recruit frightened up.
I'D give lots for good scout-some-
thing to vary the monotony of this ever
lasting grind of drills and stables-would-
MT you?'
NAV; this is good enough for me-"
And the boy turned over and went to
sleep.
Only a few days later, much to every
body's surprise, "Boots and saddles broke
in upon the afternoon silence of Packer.
"What in his all that about?' grumbled
the men, getting up from their hunks. 1t
wasn't time for mounted drill, and every
body knew there were no Indians about.
They found out when the first sergeant
came in some time later. The mail car
rier had been chased this side of Paymas-
ter's Tanks by band of Indians, and of
course notice had to be taken of 1t. Prep
arations were hurredly and quietly made
for the departure of two troops (k was
one of them) with the colonel in com
mand. Paymaster's Tanks-so named
from the deep, hollow rocks, where one
could almost always find water-was about
thirty miles from Packer. The regular
way from the fort was over the old govern
ment wagon road. but the colonel decided
on shorter trail over the hills that led
through the Black Canon, striking the
| canon aboJt ten miles this side of the
| Tanks.
No one thought much of this scout.
The most they could look for was the cap
ture of eight or ten reckless young bucks
off the reservation. They hadn't fired at
the mail; they had simply chased it. The
| next time they would chase it again, and
possibly the next, and the next, and then
they would grow holder, and kill the driver
and the team, burn the mail, and there
would be another outbreak in the territory.
So it was necessary to stop them in the
beginning, and the two troops ambled
along in a eisurely manner until they
came to the canon.
Here there was a halt for some little
time "Send your first platoon through
the canon at a trot," said the colonel 10
the captain of X troop; "rll bring the re
mainder of the command up over the side
| hills"
The little command started out at a
good swinging trot, and the first set OF
tours had already entered the big, yawn-
| ing mouth of Black Canon. "My God
what's that?" said the colonel, pointing
to the rocks that lowered on both sides of
| the canon. From behind one of them
crawled, or rather writhed, human head,
painted and hideous, with black, stream
ing hair and wildly staring eyes. Then
| from behind the next popped another, and
another and so on until the place seemed
literally alive with them. IAN ambush! ~
cried out the colonel. Sound the recall ~
Stubs heard the command, and the
next moment his horse shot out from the
ranks on a dead jump toward the rapidly
disappearing platoon. 1t seemed only a
moment before he gained the entrance,
and they heard the shrill, loud clear tones
of his trumpet. The remainder of the
command had already dismounted, deploy-
| ed, and was rapidly moving. toward the
rocks. That isn't the recall" said some
one. 1t came again. 'Its the charge"
they all cried, as the notes came to theiI
ears, joyously ringing and echoing from
rock to rock. And sure enough it was the
charge; and the platoon heard 1t, and I'M
derstood and rushed like a torrent through
that death-trap. There wasn't shot from
the ro.ks; the untutored savage knows
when he is well off.
There were one hundred and fifty OF
them-simply a hunting party, they told
| the colonel as they came from their hiding
places, hands above their heads, indicat-
ing friendship; hunting party that was
| painted and bedaubed from head TO foot
g hunting party that wore fantastic head
dresses and was almost naked; hunting
party that carried Winchesters and old
fashioned Springfelds, had double sup
ply of ammunition, and glared at the as
sembled soldiers with hate and malice; a
hunting party of dirty, greasy, sneaking
cut-throats who had everything save'cour-
age And so they surrendered, though II
sounds queer that a hunting party should
do that.
THE biggest haul we've made in years, y
said the colonel to his adjutant; and then
he sent for Stubs.
"Come, kid; tell us what the colonel
said to you," asked the troop, some time
later, when the trumpeter had returned
from his interview.
"Well," replied the youngster, she said
to me, says he, Stubs, you are the boy
for my money; that's the finest call have
ever heard in the army"
There was howl of derision from the
assembled troop. "Come off, you young
wind jammerw- from the first SER
geant. 81 suppose ne really gave you a
good dressing-down, didn't hep"
"Naw. If you want to know our con-