Vilas County news. [volume] (Eagle River, Vilas County, Wis.) 1896-1927, 1897-08-09

possibilities Of peril to loved ones at
such time. Somebody was sure to be,
killed and several wounded-no matter
how the Indians were driven. It al
ways happened So The troops might
win the fight and hold the ground and
drive the warriors heller SHELTER
through the hills, but who suffered
most2 Who got the worst of the fight
itself? was the thing which wives and
children, mothers and daughters, most
considered, and in almost every case it
must be owned that the preponderance
Of dead and wounded lay with the
troops Already two of our best are
gone, sobbed an Irish laundress, land
what have we got to show for it?"
1.-TWO killed outright" cried Mrs.
Foster, land one Of them cur Rafferty,,
and now where is Leon?"
Alas! who could say? Leaving Ray
nond, his weeping women and anger
ing men, let us spur on after Turner
and the sorrel troop, by this time near
aly half way to the Sandy Even on
aeetest of American horses we cannot
hope to overtalxe them until they are
almost within pistol range Of the will
lows In the bottom, and when we do
the first platoon is dispersed tn wide
skirmish line, the men riding five
yards apart. The other is in reserve,
ready to strike wherever the foe NAV
be developed. Only mile away lie the
old ruins across the Sandy. Only a
mile and q half up there along the
falda, to the northwest, are the brown
adobe buildings of Kelly's little ranch,
Hereaway to the north, nearly opposite
the gateway of Apache canyon,
through which the Sandy comes brawl-
ing, towers the black pyramid Of
Signal Butte, thin smoke still float
ing skyward from it's summit. A dozen
times, say the men of the reserve, have
they seen Icons pony tracks on the
way, but not once since passing the
dry arroyo two miles back. Over
beyond that strange cone-shaped
butte, so strong landmark as
it stands like a sentry guarding
the canyons gate, the shallow rift in
the Socorro tells where the trail comes
in from Esaton Springs over on the
northeast Riding at speed until within
mile of the timber, Turner has been
watching with eager eye for any sign of
life orr action, of friend or foe, from
across the stream, and not so much as
wave of flag or blanket, or even ban.
dana has rewarded his wistful scrutiny.
Kelly's home is apparently deserted.
The dismantled walls Of the old post
L. IL
fringe of timber close to the stream.
Downey's ranch below is out of sight
behind the shoulder bluff that shrugs
to the very brink of the Sandy.
"Queer," says Thornton. mot sign.
yet they must have seen us coming.
Look out for every clump of trees or
bush ahead there, Turner. Since last
nights experience / sniff an Indian In
every twig." Turner only mods grimly
in reply. All along the skirmish line
the carbines are advanced, the men
peering eagerly into the thickets
ahead Of them. The road itself winds
through the low bottom and enters the
stream at a gravelly bend opposite the
walls of the old quartermaster's corral,
but that is couple of hundred yards
further to the south now. Turner is
aiming to reach the open ground mid
way between KellY's and the post, and
thereby be enabled most promptly to
lend aid to either. If the Tontos are
in strong force and lurking in the tim
Der to give him hot welcome, then the
fight will be hand to hand, and that's
what he wants. If, on the contrary,
they are too weak to match him, then
there is little hope of netting punish
ment, for In his own hands the Apache
can only be thrashed when thoroughly
surprised, and one might almost as well
hope to catch a weasel asleep. One
hundred yards only to the timber now,
and not a sign from anywhere. More
slowly, cautiously, the 1ine advances,
expecting any instant to hear the crack
of the Indian rife among the trees
The suppressed excitement of the men
communicates itself through muscles,
that pardonably culver bit, to the
mettlesome horses, and these are sniff
ing the hot air suspiciously, with wide
eye and nostrils, and erect, twitching
ears shrinking from the possible am
bush ahead. Then comes sudden
shout from the reserve: Look! Look
at Kellys" And half dozen horses
cover and shy, and, such is the nervous
strain of the moment, q score of hui
man hearts bound in young troopers
breasts.
Some one-they can't discover who
is waving a shawl or blanket from
Kelly's doorway. Some one else can
be dimly seen lunging out from behind
the ranch and fercely gesticulating and
pointing toward the range to the north.
Its the old man himself" cries SER
geant. They're all right" The next
minute, too, waving his hat, trooper
comes squirting through the willows at
the front and rides briskly out toward
the advancing line. Men breathe freer
at the sight.
whats gone wrong? Where are the
rest, corppral?" queries. Turner, riding
CTo Discontinued
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