The Florence daily tribune., 1899-01-14
THE DESERTER WENT
DOWN THE RIVER.
A STORY OF MILITARY DISCIPLINE

rade ground at Fort Buford,
swayed gracefully in the afternoon
breeze. The small expanse of turf that
sloped down TO the swift-rolling Mis-
souri, was dotted with trim buildings
which seemingly won martial appear
anee from their occupants. a chill
was noticeable in the air, though June
reigned and countless mosquitoes
reigned also, hovering in dense swarms
over the willows near the rivers edge
mosquitoes whose spiteful sting was
altogether out of proportion TO theiI
size. Even the stoical Indians from
the Gros Ventres village, two miles
north, just over the boundary line in
Montana. were visihly affected by
those ubiquitous pests. and waved
eagles wings before their imperturb-
able. grave faces as they stood upon
the banks, while a cargo OF military
supplies was being unloaded from
down river" boat
Hither and thither across the parade
ground, figures in blue were moving
slowly-soldiers with the dull, apa-
thetic countenances characterizing so
many troops upon the western from
tier. But to-day there was Frightening
of faces, a quickening of steps, for the
"dowu-river" had brought letters from
the states and home.
An unusually generous mail, too.
Several men laughed when they saw
Zack Brayton with deeper bronze on
his cheeks and letter in his hand.
He had never been known 10 receive
one since the coming of the company
to Fort Buford. He was tall, awk
ward fellow, one of those shambling
men who suggest some mistake on the
part of nature in choosing material too
hastily. He stood now just opposite
the gymnasium. the letter tuttering in
his grasp. the torn envelope crushed in
one strong hand. He had read ii over
twice, and was beginning at the first
page again, mumbling il indistinctly:
"You and me amt been as much to
each other as husband and Wife oughter
be. If we had. you wouldn't never have
gone away. I've kept silence long time,
waiting for youtos say you cared, but you
don't say that yet; and now it's my
cough and the strange feelings all over
me that make me write. The doctor
says il won't be long-and there's little
Jim and the baby"
He stopped suddenly and crumpled
the pitiful scrawl in his brawuy fist
and pushed the back OF his hand across
his deep-set eyes.
II don't know rightly what I'll do, p"
he began, desperately; and then he
Strengthened up, as comrade ap-
preached. laughing.
Lots of news. Zack?" he queried in
a teasing way.
Ten minutes later Zack Brayton
stood more awllwardly than ever. be-
fore the highest authority in the fort,
That officer had received pleasant news
from home, and he uubeDi his military
dignity to a surprising degree, and was
chatting merrily with several subor-
dinates.
well. my man" was his remark,
when Zack's presence was noticed.
The private saluted awkwardly. He
began to speak in low, hesitating
voice.
"Beggin' your pardon. colonel, but
I've got word I'd like to say-least-
wise. if"
Talk TO your captain" interrupted
the officer, recalling his dignity now.
He was tired of hearing complaints. and
there had been too many of late.
Mot as I'd oughter bother you, sir;
but the fact is
well, speak out. What is it?" said
the officer, with some show of impa-
ience.
MY wife" he began. huskily, she
is sick, and lowed maybe you had a
wife. colonel, an you'd know how
Where is she?"
Back in Missoury."
And you want furlough? It's i'm
possible, sir If we needed half the re-
quests we shouldn't have soldier left
On the post. Don't you see, my good
fellow?"
"Ies. sir" replied Zack, simply.
When he was clear of the quarters he
leaned against n post as If needing sup
port of some sort. Yet lack was a
strong man, certainly
In this high latitude the sun cheats
you ont of The evening hours. and sets
at nearly ten O'Clock. \ dotach,nent
of troops were assisting the steamboat
-oustabouts in unloading military sup
plies. At dark tiamhtauN were fiaring
rom the boats guards, by the light of
which they completed their labors.
Then the bIueeoats marched back to
the barracks. preceded by train of
government wagons.
few roustabous hudtlled upon the
boiler deck. were grumbling unitedly
bout some tTifie. as Missouri river
roustabouts have a habit OF doing. The
light became very dark at last-so dark
hat even had one been looking in hat
direction he would not have noticed a
man who .crept out of the willow bog,
and, stepping cautiously into an Indian
'bull-boat" at the wharf. drifted off
with the swift current under cover of
friendly shadows.
In few moments, at best, the mans