Arizona weekly journal-miner., 1898-09-14
Through @ Field Glass.
tAn Arisons stOry.l

My pet pony, Kit Carson, had strsyeI out of sight, notwithstand- his hobbies, so, to save any useless seacching, took my field glass out on the back porch 10 inspect the foot hills before starting out to re capture him. Away in the distance perhaps three quarters of mile saw with the naked eye some object moving among the scrub juniper trees. Adjusting the glass to the proper focus I soon discovered that the aforesaid object was not my pony but a common mouse colored burro, 1 could even Sc that he had one ear almost slit in two, my glass being a very powerful one, . gilt from a former army officer. But as had not lost any burro l was about to sweep over another portion of the rough landscape when 1 sudden ly caught in its range a small tree from a limb of which dangled pair of old overalls, just below them on the ground was the usual debris ot prospector's camp, 6 smoldering ire, camp kettles, mining tools, guns, &c. But what attracted and held my eyes glued to the glass was the unusual appearance and actions of several men gathered around the fire. They were all roughly dressed and savage looking, but one in particular held my attention, he was much larger. than any of the rest and had, as I thought, 6 most villainous countenance, low browed with bristling hair and beard and a huge scar extending from the cor ner of his eye to the angle of his jaw. He seemed to be in terrible rage and held in his hand a large knife which he brandished up and down as if threatening some one. His companions>who were somewhat less repulsive looking, seemed to be attempting to restrain him as nearly as one could judge by the Panto- mine being enacted, holding up their hands and pointing from time to time first into the bushes and then to the op- posite side of the fire. This led me to shift my glass a little to see if possible what it all meant. And there upon the ground, partly con- cesled by the bushes was the figure of a woman upon her knees with her arms thrown around the neck of a large dog-upon her face was such a look of terror and pleading as 1 had never seen before. Now l could begin to piece together the tragedy which was being enacted in dumb show right before my eyes. The scared villain. the knife, the terri ted woman and the noble dog stand ing between her and death. All seemed so close to me that 1 could distinguish not only every movement but even the expression of their countenances, and yet all dead si- lence. It was all @ horribls night mare to witness, this silent trag- edy and yet be powerless to utter even a word to prevent 1t. But 1t would have been useless even if could have reached them with my voice, for even as 1 looked the terri ble being with the knife sprang for ward kicking the camp fire to pieces and with upraised hand he rushed upon his helpless victims There was brief struggle n which 1 saw through the smoke and dust of the scattered brands the forms of the men apparently rushing after the crazed demon to prevent his horriC deed.
 In horror I dropped my glass and rushed into the house. Without waiting to explain to the astonishe6 members of the household what had seen, I seized my hat, ran to tho corral, mounted a horse and gal loped to the village to summon help. Soon the sheriff and a posse of we'll armed men were following me to the foothills to aYenge the murder of a helpless woman.
 I A lariat in the hands of stout ranchman suggested more than words, of which few were spoken, a: We dashed over rocks and gulleys.
 In few moments we were ap- preaching the improvised camp Scattering out into a circle we speedily enclosed the group under the tree.
 To our surprise all were silent and made no effort to escape. The big scsrred desperado leaned sullenlJ against the tree snd in his hand wal the eviuence of his crime, a hugs knife, with blood ss yet undried up on the glittering blade. But where was the poor woman, the victim ol his ungovernable ragei Was she al ready dead or could she still besl evidence against her cowsrdly slsyeri Before any one had spoksI and while the crowd of rough fel lows looked questioningly from ont to another, the low voice of a woman broken with sobs came to us from among the bushes. And this is what she said: "Poor feller; yer hsdn't orter bit him, but he hadn't ortel killed yer"
 TIE ARIZONA DoCToR. | P. S.-lt cost me just five dollars worth of refreshments to keep that sherilfs posse from using that lariat