St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1896-09-11


to the captain. When | returned to the
lodge I found Culver was sinking rap
idly. He was suffering intensely, but
never complained, and slowly and dis
tinctly instructed his people as to the
disposition of his property. Then the
good father began to administer the last
sacraments, and / sadly left the lodge
and went home. In little while the
father joined me.
'He is dead?" ! asked.
eyes"
"And Pai.o-tah?"
"She tainted; the old women are car
ing for her."
Supper was called, but neither Of us
cared to eat. We sat in silence long
time, and finally the father said:
Never, during my long life in this
wild and wicked land, have l ever seen
or heard Of such dastardly act as that
fend committed this afternoon. Can a
man be human, is he born Of woman,
who will deliberately shoot down fell
low creature in cold blood? And what
is to be done? Is there no justice in the
land? Can he not be punished for his
crime?"
"Wait, father" l replied. II have
sent note up to the soldier camp in
forming the captain Of the affair. No.
doubt he will send some men down to
arrest the fellow. "
Some time after dark my messenger
returned and handed me an envelope,
the same one in which | had inclosed
my note On the back Of it, written in
pencil were the following words:
Outside my jurisdiction. Send to Fort Ben.
ton for the sheriff. CAPTAIN -.
Send 800 miles for the sheriff. And
in the meantime the murderer would be
far away, perhaps over on the Yellow
stone or in Dakota on another horse
stealing raid. That night the father
and went to bed with heavy hearts.
Early the next morning we made
preparations for burying Culver. Out
of such material as was at hand l made
a rude coffin and lined it with soft new
blankets The father made cover for
it of black cloth and, true to his faith,
sewed i'll the center large white cross
Then down at the lower end of the bot
tom, beneath the cottonwoods, we dug
the grave, and before noon we laid the
poor fellow i'll it. In the afternoon the
father and | again sat out in the shade
NJ ~ tt,Ny1 ttfr tf fynt I,,on Ia .Nf
fresh air The June sun shines fearfully
hot in those Missouri river bottoms
But this afternoon there was no smok-
ing or chatting. Each of us was occu-
pied with his own thoughts, and they
were sad and oppressive.
There had been high old times in the
saloon during the night, perfect frenzy
of drink and carousal, which had lasted
far into the morning, and now the
ruffians We're sleeping off the effects of
it. Presently we saw the murderer come
out, bareheaded, barefootcd and strip
ped to the waist. He glanced impudent-
ly at us, and, going on to the river not
many yards away, stopped down and be-
gan to bathe his head. AS | watched
him the father suddenly pressed my
arm, and, looking up, saw Pai-o-tah,
rifle i'll hand, slipping up toward the
bather.
1T must not bep' murmured the
father. Vengeance is mine, saith the
Lord. I will repay and he started
to rise.
| grasped his arm and forced him
back into his chair
"You shall not interfere, father" /
said in a low voice. "There is some-
thing in the same book about an eye
for an eye, IA tooth for tooth, and l
held him with firm grip.
Don't cry out" l continued "for
the fellow has pistol in his belt and
might kill the woman"
And now Pai-o-tah was but few
yards from the sloping bank of the river
Raising the gun to her shoulder, we
heard her call out in loud, clear voice,
"Nap-i-kwan" white many. AS the man
kept on bathing, she said again, much
more loudly, 'Nap-l-kwanT This time
he heard, and, looking over his shoulder,
saw her standing there with the rifle
pointed at him. Quick as a flash he
sprang to his feet, whirled around and
pulled his revolver; but, quicker still,
Pai-o-tah pulled the trigger, and at the
report the desperate threw up his arms,
reeled and fell over backward into the
river. There was heavy splash, and
then the deep and treacherous current
claimed its own. Once, twice, we saw
a hand rise above the surface of the
water and then slowly disappear and
pass out of sight forever Poor Culver
was avenged. New York Sun.
IT you have ever seen little child in
agony OF summer complaint, you can
raFal, h. i