The Houma courier. (Houma, La.) 1878-1939, 1897-06-05
FOR HIS FRIENDS SAKE.

ing, at the mouth of Crooked Pass, a
dark, tortuous ravine leading Though
che ella Range.
As it was then too late to make the
passage before dark, our guide, Dave
Ingram, ordered us to encamp on the
bank Of a little stream, an a~fiuent, I
believe, of San Carlos river.
AT that time the cruel, bloodthirsty
Apaches roamed everywhere aver the
great plains and mountains of Arizona
1then a part of New Mexico) numbering
and robbing such helpless parties of
emigrants as they could take unawares
or oyerwhelm by superior numbers.
Though, owing to incessant vigilance,
we had not yet lost a single n of our
30 men, several of us had received ugly
arrow-wounds in some of the numerous
scrimmages in which we had been,
from time to time, engaged; so now,
being in a specially dangerous locality,
we adopted every %precaution that the
veteran guides experience could sug-
gest to guard against surprise. The
eight covered wagons were. corraled so
ms to FORM a hollow square into which
our little army of horses and mules
might be inclosed after being tethered
ont to feed for a few hours, arms and
ammunition were carefully inspected,
and the order duly arranged in which
the eight sentry squads, or four men
each, should keep one-hour watches
throughout the coming night.
Nearly all wild Indians of the Great
Plains, if they attack an encamped
party at all, generally do so just at
daybreak in the morning; but we knew
the Apaches sometimes broke through
this rule. When scalps and plumber
were in prospect, these ruthless saw
ages would frequently. in those days,
steal upon a silent camp at any hour of
the night, and if its occupants were
sleeping at the moment. few of them, in
deed ever awakened this side of eternity.
Hence, our astute leader left nothing
20 chance, but always renewed the
O%uadruple guard at such short intervals
that no man need become drowsy on his
post.
Besides our force of grown men,
there were two boys in the party-stur-
dy. fearless young fellows of Is, who
felt much aggrieved at never having
been allowed to take part in the fight
ing. These youths, Walter Goodson and
Hugh Austin by name, though not at
all related, were bosom friends, and
each was always seeking some way of
showing his affection for the other.
Theirs was a friendship SO unselfsh, so
touchingly beautiful, that their re-
spective brothers, who were of the
party, often spoke of them as David
and Jonathan" And now had come
tile time when both were to prove them
selves no less brave than those Biblical
heroes.
Dur stock was, that evening, permit
ted to Craze on the short, rich buffalo
grass until ten o'clock; then Walter
Goodson went out with his elder broth
er, both being unarmed, to bring the
animals into the corral, all the rest of
the party, except the sentries, having
lain down to sleep.
AS was afterwards known, Walter.
being the more active of the two, ran
on to tie end of the line to draw the
lariat pins of those horses which were
nearest TO the mouth of the pass. John.
the brother, having completed his part
of the work, by forming the beasts he
was to secure into a string ready to drive
to camp, waited some time for the boy
to come along with his drove, but could
hear no sound indicating its approach,
and the night was so dark that he could
e nothing at a distance of ten yards.
Impatient at the unaccountable delav,
he at las: called out: Come, Walt,
hurry up! You're too slow for any
thing"
There was no answer, and now he an
grily shouted: Better quit f~ooling.
boy, and bring the stock along quick.
It's time we were in bed. I've got to
stand guard from two to three, and
want some sleep"
Not a word in reply, and, save the
querulous yelping of a prowling coyote,
no sound broke in upon the solemn still
ness of the night. Greatly wondering,
though not yet seriously alarmed. Good
son now CROPPED his way to the farther
band of cattle, which should have con-
tanned six horses and the same num-
her of mules. Passing from n ami
NAL to another, and counting as he
went, he found but nine beasts in all
Three of the horses were gone, and no
Sign Of his young brother could be
seen or heardl Then the fearful truth
dawned upon him. AS surely as if he
had seen the deed, he felt convinced
that the horses and boy had been made
away with by Indians, though how it
had been so silently done he could not
Imagine, especially as the outermost
patrolling the line of stock
have passed along its whole
at least four times in the hour.
Thinking of this, Goodson concluded
that the abduction had taken place
he and Walter left the camp. for
when they went out to fetch the cattle
In the sentry was withdrawn from that
beat.
The unhappy man dared not strike
q light, for this would have exposed
him to the deadly aim Of possibly lurk-
ing foes. He did, however, several
times venture to call: walt! Walt!
rapidly shifting his position
each cry, but there came no an
Hurriedly then he loosed the
nina reunaininO animals added fham RI