The true Democrat. [volume] (Bayou Sara [La.]) 1892-1928, 1898-03-26

2 AT Pa cept in large and
w well-armed par
lies. Numerous marrow escapes have
been recorded, but many desperate
adventures occurred no accounts OF
ahich have ever been published.
This story is an instance in point
Early in the spring Of 1896 John An
ION, q young settler from Southern
Nebraska, left O wife and two small
,hildren at his homestead and joined
large party Of miners and adventur-
srs who had gathered at Sidney in
that State q party so formidable in
uumbers, and SO we'll armed and led,
that it came through to French Creek
In safety. There John Arson parted
company with the expedition--it was
bound for Deadwood, which had just
begun to be heard of--and joined
some prospectors near Clusters Gulch.
He had been at work for three
weeks when q party came from. the
south, in which were two of his for
mer neighbors, who told him that
when they left, nine days before.
diphtheria was raging in their neigh
borhood; that his younger child had
died, and that the other and also his
wife was very ill with the disease.
Arson was man of most affection.
.te nature Nothing had sent him
forth from home except the hope to
better the future Of his family; he had
been sternly bearing up under home
sickness that tore hungrily at his
heart, and he would have gone crazy
had he tried to hold out against the
Impulse to hasten back to his wife and
Tho little golden haired girl who might
still be alive.
To try the backward way alone was
10 run many chances of death for one
Of escape, but his life was rs nothing
10 the imperative call of his soul.
Back he would go, and that same
evening hour which brought him the
dreadful tidings saw him on his way.
He was mounted on o tough, wiry
pony for which he had given every
thing he possessed. except what the
pony carried. With only the clothes
that he wore, pair Of blankets, three
days provisions, his long-range
Winchester and one hundred car
tridges, he started to make the trip.
He rode for the Cheyenne River,
thirty miles distant, as his first stage.
In the tall grass Of the river bottom
he picketed his pony, then spread his
blankets ut daybreak and was soon
sleeping soundly; for this man was no
weak degenerate who could be dis
tracted by mental suffering from the
acts necessary to success in his des-
perate enterprise. He must sleep to
keep his power Of riding aud fighting,
and sleep he did as if with iron reso
luton.
The sun showed that the time was
abont ten o'clock in the fol enoon when
Arson was reused by the shrill whin-
nying Of his pony. He satup and saw
Buckskin, with head high, gazing to-
ward the western hills. There num-
Der Of horsemen had halted upon q
rise across the river, aud were looking
intsntly in his direction. They were
Indians.
At first Arson guessed they must
have thought that an Indian had made
a lone camp or stopped to stalk game.
But q moment later he saw they
grasped tho situation; for he had
scarcely risen to his feet when they
spurred their beasts down into the
valley toward him. There werethirteen
Of them, and his case was plainly des-
perate.
He was at loss for some seconds
whether to stand and fight or to run,
but as the long grass would give them
cover to approach him, he determined
finally to escape by riding. He set
about saddIins his pony, which was so
nervous and uneasy thatit nearly broke
away from him while he was tighten
ing the cinches. When he had
mounted, the Indians were within a
half-mile OF him, and he already faint
ly heard their yells at his preparation
for flight. They were Sioux, and he
knew they "meant business"
He wondered grizzly how many of
them would be left to transact this
"business' when they should have
closed in on John Anson-him who
would be defending himself in the
hope Of reaching his wife and his lit
tie Alice, aud the grave of his dead
baby.
TO his satisfaction, he found his
pony seemingly as fresh as ii it had
not been ridden for a week. He saw
that the reputation Of Dodge's Buck
skin TO, speed and endurance was de-
served, and he patted the neck of the
little fellow as kindly as if his own
soul was clear of trouble. Buckskin
tossed his head with delight, and
snorted, "br-r-r-rm!" as if exulting
that the time had come to prove his
mettle as it had never been proved be-
fore.
"A IL