The Dawson news. (Dawson, Ga.) 1889-current, 1897-12-15

strange object, looking up and eyamin-
ing 1T from every side. At length one
OF them said: "Say, boys, that looks
IKE a good robe around that redskin.
Somebody bring an ak from the wagon
and Wen see how they fix up a dead
lnJun, anyway. The ak is brought
and IN moment the posts are cut
through and the scaffold, with its
greWsome tenant, falls to the ground.
The lariat is lOOsened and two men(9
seize the edge of the robe and unwind
it from the body. 1t is indeed a good
robe. They shake it in the wind and
throw it into the wagon. Gwen have
use for that robe" they say.
The removal of the robe brought to
view the dressed deerskin. "Just
what we want" they said, "to make
whlplashes," and the deerskin follows
the buffalo robe into the wagon. And
then the blanket, which was a brand
new one. 1t wouldn't do to leave that.
So into the wagon it vent to keep COM
pany with the rest Of the funeral fur
niture.
Next their attention is given to the
almost naked body of the dead warrior
One of them seizes the bow and ar
rows. "I'll keep them for my little
boy" SAID he. Another takes the claw
necklace. He will take that home for
his wife. And thus the body was en-
tirely denuded. The moccasins are
taken by one, the silver arm-bells at
tached to them was taken by another,
and, spurning the naked body with
the feet, they go on their way rejoic
ing at their rich find. 1t pOrtends
good luck wheE they reach the hills.
A bout noon the following day the
little band of Indians reached their
homes, where they impaired the sad
news of the death of the young brave
to his friends and relatives. Among
the latter was a brother, who, after
learning the exact locality Of the grave,
mounted his horse, saying that be
would go and look upon the silent
form Of his brother and weep for him.
Before sunset he was drawing near the
little mound, but saw no scaffold
standing there. and wondered if he
had mistaken his direction. No, there
is something here, and he rides closer
to see what it is. One brief glance al
the ruins and he knows the whole
story. The posts with the marks OF
the ak, and the poles which formed the
scaffold are there. The tracks of the
wagon and of the mules show plainly
in the soft earth, and all around are
the footprints of white men. But
where is the dead warrior? Scattered
about are fragments Of the skeleton,
stripped of flesh, and down yOnder by
the river are score Of coyotes, snarl
ing and fighting over something which
looks very much like portion OF the
dead Indians body. The wolves and
COYOTES had finished the work which
the white vandals had begun.
No tear started from the eye Of the
dead warriors brother as ne sat there
on his pony and contemplated the
scene, but giving utterance to that
savage growl which no white man can
initiate or describe, he turned his
horses head toward his home and flew
away with the speed OF a frightened
deer.
1t was midnight before he reached
his camp, but before daylight, mounted
on fresh horse and followed by fifty
stalwart braves, he was on the trail of
the fourteen men who committed the
outrage. They never used that buffalo
robe. nor did they make whiplashes of
the deerskin. The bow and arrows
never reached the little boy. Every
one of the fourteen was killed, provid-
ing big feast for the wolves. But
the newspapers just rang with the
news of another Indian ontrlge.
They never knew the primary cause
Boston Herald.