Morris tribune., 1896-02-12
improve little on the Apache mode Of

improve a little on the Apache mode Of
torture
Yet steadily OIL droned the monoto-
nous death song. Two or three OF us
seeing that Joe was half crazed by grief,
consulted privately together and agreed
that if he did really attempt reprisals in
this barbarous manner we would shoot
the prisoner through the brain, for no
sane white man could brook such treat
ment of even a remorseless foe.
In short time the lightly fed fire in
the pass died away, and although the
ground might be hot in places a we'll
shod man could incur no risk in walk
ing over it. Therefore we began to look
eagerly for the return of Graydon,
though dreading to hear the narrowing
details he would probably bring. But
when, gliding out close to the nearest
wall of the ravine, the young man
finally appeared, simultaneous groan
went through our ranks, and one Of us
cried aloud: Good gracious! Tom
knows nothing of the boy! He thinks
he's with usp' For the youth came
jauntily along, his face wreathed in
smiles
Sayagely as a wild beast robbed of
it's young Joe Martin dashed forward,
and confronting the scout roared out,
"Tom Graydon, do you dare to say that
you haven even found the remains OF
my murdered SOM"
"Not a remain, flippantly replied
Tom, whereat, if we had not quickly
interposed, the outraged father would
have laid the young fellow dead at his
feet.
The whole % of us gathered watch
fully about the pair, while Tom inno-
Gently continued: "Why, isn't Frank
with you? He's not killed, surely, or l
would have seen some signs of it. =
Still. changelessly on, the Indians
mournful dirge foated out through the
evening air.
All of us were so preoccupied that
nothing outside our circle was noticed;
hence we were fairly electrified when
presently light form broke through
the ring, threw itself upon the guides
breast, and voice joyfully shouted,
Cali alive and kicking yet, dear old
dad |"
Then great, stalwart Joe broke down
and cried like baby, and all those OF
us whose threats were not too husky
burst into such storm of wild cheers
as Ouaniche (Wayneesh) pass had never
before heard, though not for a moment
did they interrupt the prisoners doleful
cry.
Roguish Tom was now rolling on
the ground in an ecstasy of delight over
his successful ruse, and poor, happy,
choleric Joe looked rather sheepish as
he said: "How was it, Frank? Tell us
your story I"
"You may thank Tom s good shooting
for it all, father The Indians had tied
me to sapling, some way behind where
they were waiting to catch this party.
At the very first sign of fire one of the
braves ran back toward me with his
tomahawk and scalping knife all ready
for business, and in two seconds more
should have been dead boy, but just
as the wicked beast was going to strike
I heard rife crack, and he tumbled
down dead almost on top of me. =
Yes put IN Tom, II was more
than 900 yards away, but (patting his
r1fle) knew old Betty here and had to
risk it. My bullet went through the
redskins bearg. and under the circum
stances it was pretty fair SHOT By
that time the ire had started up in
earnest the Indians scrambled on their
ponies and put out like lightning, but
we, being to w1ndward of where I'd
kindled the blaze, were quite safe, and
we came along as soon as we could. .
At this Joe stepped gravely over to
Tom, took off his hat and half sobbingly
said, ''Tom Graydon, humbly ask your
pardon, and may God Almighty forever
bless you'll
Then the two friends shook hands for
ten minutes more or less, and we once
again woke the echoes by such cheers as
only men with oyercharged hearts can
utter. But on, ever on, without break or
pause, pealed the warriors death song.
'Joe," laughingly said our Oldest
oomrade, maybe you'll just shoot this
miserable wretch now instead of skin
ming him alive.
For all answer Joe walked over to
the prisoner, stopped down, cut his
bonds, placed bow, tomahawk and knife
beside him, pointed to his pony and
said in Apache: go, chief Go free!'
Then at last the death song ceased
For one moment the astounded savage
gazed in incredulous amazement, but
quickly seeing that all was in good faith
he vaulted to his pony's back, waved
his sound hand in not ungraceful ac-
acknowledgement and galloped swiftly
away. And never again were we once
molested by any member of his tribe.
These fierce denizens of the western
wilds do sometimes appreciate generos-
ity.-W. Thomson in Short Stories