The Madison daily leader. [volume] (Madison, S.D.) 1890-current, 1896-05-28

sun had hidden its daily farewell, there
came Sinking up Lost creek Crawling
Wolf and seven of his dirty, i'll smelling
brethren, foul birds of the night, ready
for anything, from petty larceny up to
murder, provided the situation allowed
crime without danger to the criminal.
They had Il herd Of stolen ponies cor
rallied some miles below and were COM
ing up 70 see what No. l3 might afford
in the way of diversion. In single file
they fitted along noiselessly as shadows,
low and then stopping, heads up, to
listen, as is the wont Of beasts of prey.
Suddcnly Wolf stopped shorter and
mole suddenly than usual, giving vent
to a stan tiled grunt. All stopped, rigid
as statues, to listen. A faint wind rus
tied for a moment, died down, and then
from afar came an unwonted sound in
the wilderness. 1t vas the sound of
Jimmy's fiddle.
Cautiously the Indians crept closer
and closer, stopping now and then to
listen, until they reached the foot of the
bank at the water hole. Just above them
shone the light from the dugout en-
trance. The noise Of the tortured fiddle
was loud and clear, and at times jim
my's voice was uplifted in old hymns
and camp meeting songs reminiscent of
other days back in Missouri. Quiet, but
swift as crawling snakes, the intruders
swept up the incline of the clay bank.
A moment later they swarmed in Oh the
musician. Jimmy was sitting at the
side of his fireplace, and his winchester
was near the door. Thus he was cut off
from his only weapon.
When those Indians came in, filling
up the little dugout, I doubt if in all the
world there was a more surprised and
frightened being than the keeper of No.
IS. The music stopped. The hand that
welded the bow dropped as if para
lyzed. Jimmy stared at the appari-
tions. while old Wolf smiled hypocritic-
ally and grunted Howl" Somewhat
reassured by this apparent sociability,
Jimmy managed to gasp out, "Howdy
do:''
The sons of the desert deliberately sat
down on the bare floor, and old Wolf
once more grunted out:
"Play fiddle more. We like"
Jimmy played something at once,
and of course after awhile wound up
with a flourish, as all performers do, and
stopped.
The somber audience gave no sign of
approval or dislike. They sat perfectly
still, except that their little eyes gilt
tered and shone in the freight like dia-
monds. But when Jimmy stopped Wolf
grunted again:
More"
Jimmy played more and kept on in
response to the request after each cessa-
tion. Finally he lowered the bow and
protested:
I'D like to be obliging, but I'm get
ting too tired"
Wolf simply loosened a winchester
from the folds of a dirty blanket, cock
ed it and presented it at the professors
body, grunting again:
play more. Much heap. Damn
quick"
There was an immediate revival of
musical activity.
And so they kept the frightened fd-
dler to his work. He played his whole
repertory over and over again, the audi
ence never caring for the repetition.
The night wore on. Far over the fats
came the answering bowls of the melan-
choly coyotes, quavering and dying
away in a long drawn note Of utter lone
someness, but the sound Of the fiddle
never ceased. A late moon rose and
slowly climbed toward the zenith. The
big dipper in the northern sky dropped
down and around the polar star as
though time were not the essence OF
the performance. Still the sound of the
constant fiddle vibrated in the chill air.
At last over in the east came a faint
streak Of light, and then all creation
grew dim and gray. And with the first
light Crawling Wolf stood up and shook
himself. His brethren did likewise.
They took Jimmy's rife and everything
portable on the premises, allow
ing him to cease for a moment, then
quietly filed out and disappeared in the
morning mists.
About 10 o'clock next morning the
keeper Of station No. IL, over on the
Beaver, happening to look up, saw
something coming very rapidly over the
hills from the southwest. The some.
thing soon resolved itself into a man on
the back of some creature. As it came
closer it was apparent that the creature
was a mule running for dear life. while
the man was using both hands and feet
with great energy. The mule stopped,
all blown and wet, in front Of the sta
ton, and the man fell of in a dead
faint. He had a broken fiddle bow il
one hand and in the other a ruined fid
die, the body part beaten to a fragile
and the strings flying all about in &
perfect maze Of tangles.
And the very mex, driver to arrive al
Dodge City announced to the powers al
the stage office:
"Fiddlin Jimmy's done quit. ~
Philadelphia Times.
LATEST MARKET REPORT.
Milwaukee Grain.
MILWAUKEE, May 81, 1895.
T III