Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1896-11-14

soldier OF telling no tales had saved
him from richly merited punishment.
Within the month of his arrival Graice
had made giant strides to notoriety. He
was a powerful fellow, with fine COM
mand of language and an education fal
superior to that Of the general run OF
noncommissioned officers, and it was
among the younger set of these he first
achieved certain standing. Protesting
to hold himself above the private sol
dier, proving himself an excellent rider
and an expert in drill with carbine or
saber, he nevertheless declared it was
his first enlistment and gave it to be
understood that a difficulty with the
sheriff, who sought to arrest him. had
been the means Of bringing him to the
temporary refuge of the ranks.
For the first few weeks, too, he drank
but little, and wearing his uniform with
the ease and grace Of one long accus-
toned to the buttons, and being erect
and athletic in build, he presented a
very creditable appearance. The bloat-
ed, bloodshot look he wore on his ar
rival, the result Of much surreptitious
whisky en- route, passed somewhat away,
and it was only when one studied his
face that the traces Of intemperance,
added to the sullen brows and shifting,
restless eyes, banished the claim to good
looks that were at first accorded him.
From the first, however, the old SER
geants and such veterans among the
corporals as Terry Rorke looked askance
at Trooper Graice. "Another guard
house lawyer, said the first sergeant
of Leale's troop, as he disgustedly re-
ceived the adjutant's notification of
Graice's assignment. Another wan
of thin jailbirds like MIR. American
Blood, the newspaper pet, said Rorke,
in high disdain. "We'll have circus
with him, too, as they had in the Eiev.
enth, or I'm Jew. Where have I seen
that sweet mug Of his before?" he
added refectively, as he watched the
newcomer surlily scrubbing at his kit,
and the newcomer, glancing sideways
at the Irish corporal, seemed to read his
thoughts, although too far away to hear
his muttered words. It was plain to
every man in G troop that there was
apt to be no love lost between Terence
Rorke and Tommy the Tough"
And there was another still who wore
the simple dress Of private soldier,
whose eyes, black, piercing and full Of
expression, were constantly following
that new recruit, and that was the Sioux
Indian, Crow Knife, youth barely 10
years of age. He had been boy scout
before the days of the ghost dance craze.
A valued and trusted ally of the white
soldiers, he had borne dispatches up to
the very moment when Kill Eagles
mad Drained ultimatum drove his band
into revolt and launched them on the
waJpath.
With them went Crow Knife's father
and mother, and the boy rode wildly in
pursuit He was with them, striving to
induce his mother to abandon the vii
lage, when the warriors made their de-
scent on the ranches Of the Dry Fork,
and later, when Farrar's fierce attack
burst upon them like a thunderbolt
through the snowclouds. Seizing his
mother in his arms, the boy had shield
ed and saved her when Leale's vengeful
men rushed upon the nearest Indians,
when unquestionably, yet unavoidably,
some awsreceivedt their death wounds
in the furious fight that followed Far
rar's assassination. Recognized and res
cued by his former friends, Crow Knife
went back to Frayne when the brief but
bloody campaign was ended and then
was sent to the Indian school at Car
Isle. Returning in the course of three
years, he had been enlisted in what was
left of the Indian troop Of the Twelfth,
and was ora Of the few of his tribe who
really macs success Of soldering. By
the s1:3umI II this eventful year Crow
Knif.'s ccLirsdes were rapidly being
discharge. nd returning to their blan-
kets and lodge life at the reservation or
hanging about the squalid cattle town
across the river. Grow Knife, sticking
to his cavalry duty and showing un-
looked for devotion to his officers, was
regarded by the Twelfth as all excep-
tional case and was made much Of &C
cordingly.
"What dye think Of that fellow,
Crow?" asked Corporal Rorke one day as
he watched the expression in the Indi-
ans face. "Ye don't like him any
more than do. What's the reason?"
"There is a saying among my peo-
ple," "was the answer in the slow, meas
ured tones Of one who thought in an
other tongue, "'Eyes that canuot meet
eyes guide hands that strike foul He
thH5-stabs- in the-dark is the name we
give such as that man"
"D'ye know him. Crow? Did 70
never see him?" persisted Terry. Ever
since the day he came the captain has
had his eye on him, and SO have ye,
and so have I. I can't ask the captain,
but can ye. Where have ye seen him
before?"
But Crow Knife shook his head. II
cannot remember his face 1t is his
back | seem tc know. My people say