The mirror. (Stillwater, Minn.) 1894-1925, 1899-02-16

were troubles with which the r. L. e
c. c. had nothing to do: they had 9th
ers of their own.
Today, if you are going from Billings
to Red Lodge, you leave the main line
OF the n. Z. at Laurel, and turning to
your left, cross the Yellowstone. You
are then moving up the pleasant valley
of the Clark's Forks creek; through
what was, at the time of my story, the
Crow Indian Reservation. There are
cattle grazing along the way, and occa.
slonally you pass rancher on his way
to town. There are ranches entirely
unlike anything you had imagined
ranch could be. They are the homes
of farmers lately come from the East.
An hour more and you cross this creek
and are in the valley of the Rocky
Fork. 1t is just as clear and laughs
just as joyously as the one you have
just crossed; and what it lacks in vol
ume, 1T makes up in velocity.
The purple, hazy bank away to your
iOA' 40 'iO olS 1IOIu LuOuUUdlI!S.
Through the hill-gaps on your right
you catch occasional glimpses of the
snowy peaks of the Pryers. The lum-
inous haze, the purple mountains in
the distance, the soft mellow sunlight
and all the golden glory of the Septem-
ber afternoon, is much the same today
as it was at the time of nv story.
Railroads may come and railroads may
Ego; reservations be narrowed until they
disappear entirely and the Red Men
all become good farmers, but for ages
to come the glory of those September
days will not pass away.
Over there about where that ranch is
under the bluff, was located for a time.
in the autumn of 188--, Gammon's
grading camp. There were about 40
teams and as many men. Other camps
occurred with more or less frequency
along the line-tie camps, engineers
camps; but there was only one Gam.
mons camp and only one Prickly Pear
Jim. Jim had not succeeded in max.
ing himself liked in the camp. In fact
he had made himself so disagreeable
that the boys had brought certain
pressure to bear and he had left and
cast his lot with some tie makers down
the creek. Hewing ties at Is cents
apiece is not bad job. Jim also got
by the change, new batch of listeners
to his tales of perilous positions and
unparalleled bravery. The boys in
Gammons camp were glad to be rid of
him; and things moved along pleas.
antly in spite of occasional rumors that
the Crows were on the warpath. The
camp was about 35 miles from the
nearest settlement. The government
had supplied the settlers in the Yellow
stone valley with arms, but for some
reason had overlooked the boys of the
camp. They were too near the danger,
perhaps to think seriously of it. Seven
miles over the divide, on upper Clark's
Fork was Plentacuse's camp, and he
was "main guy" among the Crows.
There was wall tent some thirty feet
in diameter, where they cooked for and
fed the 40 men. There was a smaller
one for the 40 to sleep in, which would
hold about dozen if they "spooned
up" The rest slept anywhere; in the
covered wagons, under the wagons on
the ground, in the dugouts which they
dug in the bank of the creek. There
was about dozen large covered wag-
ons. 1t was the custom to get up an
hour before daylight.
Jim had been gone about week.
The night was clear and frosty. You
might hear the song of the screechowl
In the dead pine tree above the camp.
The coyotes solo in A minor, seemed
to have in it note of promise.
Bill was sleeping peacefully down in
his own little dugout with his partner,
Charley. He dreamed perhaps of home
and comfort; and as he dreamed the
present became hopelessly mixed with
his dream and he thought he was driv-
ing 6-mule plow team among the
shrubery in his mothers front yard.
Then he awoke. There was form
darkening the dugout door, and voice