The Dickinson press., 1897-01-09
Culver Avenged.

Etne prairie and along the fOOlhillS OF
the mountains. We had shipped all
our furs and robes on the last down
steamer, and now there was absolute
ly nothing for us to do but kill time
as best we could until another seasons
trade should begin. Situations whtme
trade should begin. Situated as We
were some 800 miles from the nearest
town, our post was not very likely
place In summer, and our only neigh
Dor was q saloon man who had built
place fifty yards above us. But with
him we had little to 10. He was a
surly, unkempt fellow, and there was
generally hanging about his place
set Of men who came and went mys-
terlOusly, whom we more than sus-
pected were members of a gang of
horse thieves and road agents that
used to ply their trade along the Vel
lowstone and Missouri rivers.
My partner had gone East with our
shipment Of furs to dispose of them
and order fresh stock Of goods, and
was alone except for the company
Of good father, broad and liberal
minded priest, whom had persuaded
to stay with me until my partner
should return. The bishop Of Sas-
katchawan had sent him south the
preceding year to minister to q part
Of his flock, the plains Crees, who were
in our vicinity.
One drowsy afternoon In June the
father aud sat out in the shade Of
the overhanging roof smoking and fan
ming ourselves, for it was a hot day.
In tie saloon just above us a poker
game was going on, revealed to out
siders by the subdued hum Of voices
and the ceaseless rattle Of chips. As I
said, most of the Indians had gone out
on the summers hunt, but two or
three families were still with us, and
presently young man named Culver
came along with his wife and sat
down by the father In the grateful
shade. During many years passed
with the Indians on the plains, l
think 1t was the handsomest couple
ever saw. The woman, much lighter
colored than many a Spanish woman,
had singularly graceful figure, and
her features were we'll nigh faultless.
Her eyes were exceptionally large and
brilliant, full Of expression, and were
shaded by long, sweeping lashes. Her
hair, neatly braided, hung in two mas
sive strands almost to the ground.
Culver would have served an artist for
u model of Apollo. What l liked best
about him was the broad, high brow
and square-cut chin, which even in
savage denotes keen intelligence
united with force Of character.
This couple, Culver and his wife,
Pai-o-tah, had been married little
more than year. They were as yet
as deeply in love with each other as
ever. On the hunt or in the camp,
working or resting, they were insep-
arabic. Culver thought there was
nothing good enough for his beauti-
full wife. All the robes he secured, oil
the beaver and otter he caught, were
traded for fine blankets, soft and
brght-colored dresses and for jewelry
with which to adorn Pai-o-tah. He
wanted nothing for himself except
a little tobacco and few cartridges
for his rife. The couple sat with US
father about affairs In their own far
northern home.
Riel, he who later created the Cana
dian rebellion, had lately been among
the Indians urging them to return
home and wrest their ancestral lands
from the relocated usurpers, and
Culver was anxious to get the fathers
opinion of the matter. The good man
plainly told him that It was vision
ary scheme, and could not possibly
succeed. He explained that the In
dians not only would have to fight the
Canadians, but that If necessary ships
would bring thousands of soldiers
from across the salt water, ten white
men for every Indian and half-breed in
the Northwest. All this talk Of war
had little interest for Pai-o.tah, and
finally she slipped her hand in Quiv-
ers and coaxed him to go homo.
Happy, innocent children" said the
father as we watched them go up the
trail hand in hand. mot a care or a
sorrow to mar their daily lives.''
AS they were passing the saloon a
big ruttlan stepped out Of the doorway,
aimed his revolver at them, aud, call
ing out to some one within, "Bill, see
me drop that - 1njun," fired. With q
cry of pain poor Culver fell to the
ground. Pai-o-tah dropped her robe
!. and knelt over him, and with coarse
laugh the man who fired the shot turn
ed and went back into the saloon.
The father and 1 fastened over to
conscious, but his face had assumed a
| Il W. L
am shot In the back. Have pity and
carry me to my lodge" BY this time
one or two Indians had come over
from the camp near by, and together
we gently lifted the wounded man,
and, carrying him home carefully, laid
him on his couch. Sure enough, the
bullet had entered his back on the
left side and torn Its way through the
kidneys. There was no hope for him.
Leaving the father to attend the poor
fellow and give him and the heart.
broken Pai-o-tah such consolation as
was In his power, went back to tho
post and wrote note to the command
ing officer Of troop of United States
cavalry camped some six miles above
us, telling him of the coid-blooded
murder which had been committed,
ard asking him to arrest the murderer
Hastily sea]ing the message, slipped
quietly around to the Indian camp and
gave it to young man who happened
to have his horse staked near by,
charging him to go with all haste and
deliver the note to the captain. When
returned to the lodge found Culver
was sinking rapidly. Ee was suffering
intensely, but never complained. and
slowly and distinctly instructed his
|
property. Then the good father began
to administer the ], st sacraments, and
l sadly left the lodge and went home
In a little while the father Joined me.
"Hc is dead!" l asked.
Yes
"AEd Pai-o-tah:"
SHE tainted; the Old women are car.
ing for her"
Supper was called. hut neither of us
cared TO cat. We sat in silence long
time, and finally the father said:
"Never during my whole life in this
! wild and wicked land, have I ever
seen or heard of such dastardly act
as that fiend committed this afternoon
Can man be human; is he born of
woman, who will deliberately shoot
down a fellow creature in cold blood? !?
And what is to be done? Is there NJ
; Justice in the land? Can he not be
. punished for his crime?"