Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1898-08-27
inc rife. a reelinp rider and a startled

The vigilant rider stationed directly
in the road, a few feet in front of the
team, wheeled to evade the tanks ir-
resistible onset. Quick as he was
with spur and rein, the iron-ended
tongue caught his wheeling pony in
the shoulder, and whirled the two,
sprawling, a rod from the road. Steve,
as the tank bounded past, saw the
horse struggling and the man stretched
in the sagebrush.
From the opposite side of the road
behind came the flash and roar of
heavy rifle, as the fellow with the
eagle-feather, reader than his com
panions, took snap shot at the ven
turesome driver of the tank. The ball,
striking behind the seat, glanced from
the carved iron tank and shrilled over
Steve's shoulder it's call to halt.
Unheeding it, Steve grasped the
lines shorter and dropped low on the
foot. board. His head and shoulders
thus alone showed above the tank,
and in the lessening light presented
moving and uncertain mark to the
rifles behind.
Steve's action had been in accord
ance with orders. But now, as the
tank bounded unchecked over the
desert, he began to see that its stop
page and the demand for water were
only preliminary to second and
much more important stoppage and
demand.
The stage with the money for the
mines in its treasure-bOX would be
along in few hours, and these pre-
tended Bannocks had not hung about
Lost River and trailed across the des-
ert simply to shoot jack-rabbits!
They had taken the cool of the
morning for it, too, knowing we'll he
would have to pass with the water
tank. Water! that was it-they must
have it. For without water their
horses, famishing now from thirst
after the long wait in the desert,
would soon be useless.
To obtain water they would surely
pursue him, but hardly into Red Hole,
where nightly parties of emigrants
and freighters camped.
1t was matter of few miles. He
had the start. Could he keep it? he
asked himself, glancing from his
horses in harness to the horsemen be-
hind. Two of them he saw, had dis
mounted and stood over the third, ly-
ing by the road where he had been
thrust by the tongue of the tank.
"Hold up, there!' one of them
shouted, and second rihe.fash lit
up the darkening desert.
"These scoundrels can shootw
thought Steve, "snd they amt got
pop guns, either"
The heavy ball struck squarely in
the end of the cylindrical tank and
penetrated the riveted iron head like
so much paper. Instantly jet of
water shot out twenty feet behind the
jolting tank.
Steve, glancing back, saw the waste
of that precious fluid with regret.
With regret, also, he noticed that the
fellow unhorsed by the onset of the
tank was now able to set up, and was
leaning against sage-bush. His
two comrades, sparing him no
further time, were mounting, evident
ly to pursue Steve.
Their delay had given him start,
but still he was within range of their
rifles. Tie bullets pumped from their
magazine guns shrlled by on this side,
on that, and overhead. The team,
frightened by the shots, kept the tank
bounding target, and shooting from
the saddle at an equally furious pace
behind, the desperadoes could not aim
accurately.
Still a shot struck the rear end of
the cylinder, and three jets of water
playing backward were rapidly light
ening the tank OF its contents. The
team would soon show the decreasing
weight by their increased speed. The
tank was actually gaining, but its
driver, Notwithstanding, looked be-
hind ruefully.
"This sprinkling-csrt business has
got to be stopped!" Steve said, seeing
the squirting jets laying the dust for
the two coming on behind. "What's
left OF this water has got to go to Red
Hole" he said again aloud, thinking
of orders.
The horses, sharers Of his excite
ment, we're running of their own vOli-
tion, straight in the road hedged in on
either side by sage-brush.
Steve tied the lines to the projecting
sprinps of the seat, Drawing off one
of his heavy buckskin gloves, he
slashed off its fingers with his knife.
The pieces so cut he placed in his
mouth so as to leave his hands free,
and turning on the seat he swung as.
tride of the tank.
Utterly unyielding, and smoother
than the sleek sides of any bucking
"cayuse," that rounded iron body
"pitched" under him. But Steve was
q rider, and regardless of its pitching,
he hitched himself along with his
hands to the rear end.
Then he grssped the tank tightly
with those riders legs of his, and
bending over, twisted a glove-finger
in q bullet-hole, thus changing its
spurt to trickle.
While he was thus engaged, the
horses, freed from his governing hand,
broke in their gallop. The counter.
felt Bannocks began to gain, and in
their whoops Of exultation seemed the
real savages that they counterfeited.
Steve could see them plainly as,
swinging easily in their saddles, they
reflled the exhausted magazines oi
their rifles from their cartridge belts
The sight lent nimbleness to his
fingers busy with the bulletholes and
plugs.
The last hole was stopped, and
Steve, clambering back to the seat
; settled the team once more to steady
; speed.
In his haste he sat exposed on the
: seat; but the riders behind made him
, their target no longer. Riding vel
out on either side, they began shoot
ing at the horses.
Then for the first time Steve was