The herald., 1897-02-28
6Y$YT*Y$S$$$S$
( A TRUE STORY OF A
( SOLDIERS DEATH
Observation-Disclosures.
(Written for The Herald.A


true, so far as it's incidents can be veri-
fed. was related to me by Judge j. H.
Rymert who resided in Arizona during
the time when Apache outbreaks were
prevalent throughout the whole south
west. It's main facts were published in
his paper, the Pinal Drill, in the form Of
plea to eastern philanthropists, who
had at that date, March, 1881, called a
meeting at Boston to express sympathy
with the poor down-trodden Indians.
stand and look about you. Here are
the dying camp fires of company Of
soldiers. To the right the ground Is
broken into swells like green waves. On
the left is a scraggy plain. Ahead, only
two or three miles away, is rugged
mountain range But the soldiers will
have to ride a long ten miles to reach 1t.
You can see their backs as they trot over
the crest of swell half a mile away.
Now look behind you. Twenty tufted
heads are peering over the ridge, not
three hundred feet from O. camp fire.
Twenty pairs of eyes CLINT and gleaM
ard blaze at the disappearing cavalry.
Now, twenty Indians rise up, and peer.
and look about them. They were hiding
there q full hour before the troops left,
but they We're not strong enough to give
! battle. They waited, in hopes that
some one would lnger behind and fall a
victim Like tigers they hugged the
| grass, like snakes they wound them
selves along, like devils they bided their
| time.
| Now every redskin has disappeared lfke
| a flash, the clang of sabers has died
away in the distance, and no bird utters
it's notes near the deserted camp. What
| is the alarm?
Thud, thud, thud.
! 1t is the hoof-beats of a horse. A
| trooper returns at a gallop, searching
| the ground with his eyes, There it Is;
! the pin with which he staked his horse.
| He ovelooked 1t in packing UP, and has
returned to make good his loss.
He gives one anxious look around, and
! then dismounts. The pin is in his hands.
| when there is a rush of feet, and he
| straightens up to find himself the center
! of a circle of demons. Not even yell
| has been uttered, not a shot hred.
| He is a brave old trooper. He bears
| the scars of arrows and bullets, and he
has sent more than one red man to his
I long home. See how pale he grows as
| he looks about him and sees the circle
complete! See the despair in his eyes
| as the devils mock him! The troop Is two
miles away and riding ahead at trot.
| He clutches convulsively at the revolver
| in his belt; but before he can draw his
weapon his arms are pinioned. He Is
| trapped and there is no hope. %
| Before the trapperS have missed their
comrade he has been cpatured, tied to o
horse and is carried away at galiop.
AS he leaves the camp he turns and looks
back over his trail. Three or four miles
! away he sees a line of blue, but for an
| instant as the column sweeps over
ridge. Now it fades out, and he Is
doomed There is a malicious chuckle
! from every savage throat, and the
trooper feels a chill creep over him at
| the sound.
The gallop slackens There is ro hur-
| Tba fo
its suffering. Over ridges, across little
valleys, skirting hills-and there lone
tree stands beside purling stream; be-
hind is hill.
Between it and the creek Is level
spot of ground hundred feet square.
The red riders dismount, pull their pris-
oner from his horse and the animals ore
turned loose to crop the rich, short
grass. 'SrJ
| = Despair first nerves a man to take dcs-
1 rerate chances. Then II unnerves him
ard chills the blood. An hour ago the
troopers face was like bronze; now 1t is
as white as the snow lying on the crest
fsof that grim mountain fifty miles away.
But he is no. coward; coward would
| lament and beg, and entreat, and de-
mand mercy. The old man shuddsrs as
they bind him to the half-grown cotton-
wood, but no word passes his lips.
| He does not look at the Indians, put
over their heads at the green plain, the
groves and the silvery thread winding
beyond that circle of savages.
Now an Indian leaves the circle and
advances to the tree. He laughs In the
face of the prisoner; he peers into his
eyes; with his keen knife he reaches out
and sewers an ear, and waits for scream
of pain. 1t does not come. The teeth
shut hard, the eyes grow strong in their
gaze, and that is ALL The swift, sharp
knife sewers the other ear, and the fiende
about shout with pleasure at the ghast-
ly figure before them. They wish to hear
screams and shrieks, but they are dis
appointed. The blood trickles down, q
chill shakes the old man, and then his
white lips are pressed closer than be-
fore.
Not one Indian now, but the whole cir
cle They crowd around him with
sharp knives, and each seeks some new
torture. Fingers are unjointed, the nose
% sliced off, cords and tendons are ex-
posed powder is poured upon the hair
and fired and after each hellish act they
draw back, hoping to hear his screams
of agony Not sound escapes his COM
pressed lips. His wide-open eyes are
fixed upon distant grove and they new
er move.
They have one more torture. With dew
ilish glee they run here and there In
search of whatever will burn, and fire
is kindled around and upon the bloody
feet. The flames waver and sputter
among the blood-wet grass. and more
fuel is heaped on. The mountain breeze
fans the blaze into brighter life, and az
it mounts up the savages dance about
the tree and shout till the hillsides ring.
The flames take hold of clothing and
hesh but the strange eyes look through
the veil of smoke without culver. The
horses scent the roasted flesh and stand
with heads high in the air The Indians
sniff it and dance with greater energy.
All of a sudden the prisoner straightens
up, his head drops forward, and the
flames burn away at corpse.
The sun mounts higher, passes its re-
NTH, and when 1t Is low in the west q
troop of cavalry sit upon their horses
around the lone and blackened tree. The
soldier was missed, and here Is the end
of the search.
An officer rakes over the ashes and un.
covers few buttons, the heel Of a boot,
two or three bones. and whispers 70
himself:
And these red demons are wept over
by phlanthropists, prayed for in church,
es, made the wards of charity, and pet-
ted by a government, which fondly
dreams that they have souls! Attention,
company! Forward-right-whe
ALICE ROLLINS CRANE.
| -------------
Locked In the Store
Robert Jones, carpenter in the employ
of Grinberg Bros, stove manufacturers,
md fat1 1nrr yrvl<v q y la ff, =