Audubon County journal. (Exira, Iowa) 1884-1993, 1899-05-18

! ana elgnG troopers. ordered to report
| with pack mule and ten days rations to
Lieutenant Loring of the engineers,
and Colonel Stevens had not been con
suited again.
The senior colonel in the department.,
be had seen his command cut down
company by company until only bare
squad, said he, remained to guard the
most important post in Wyoming
| (Which it WASH by any means, but he
had been led to think 500 And now
young whippersnappers just out of West
Point We're running away with his men
right under his nose.
But Loring's orders came to him d.
rect from Omaha He had need of every
precaution He was now SC on a
mission that demanded the ut.nost Sc
crecy, and the colonel could no more
conceal a movement than sieve could
| water
Quitting the quartermaster' depot
one summer night at 12, the little de-
tachment rode silently out across the
southwark prairie, swung round to the
east when the dim lights of town were
a mile behind, took the trot over the
hard, bounding turf, and at dawn were
heading straight for the breaks of the
Laramie. Hating for rest and coffee
when the sun was an hour high, they
again pushed on until noon, when they
unsaddled in a grove of leafy cotton.
woods in little fork of the Medicine
| Bow, watered the weary horses and
gave them hearty feed and themselves
as hearty dinner, and then picketing
and hoppling their steeds, who were
| glad enough to roll and sprawl in the
sand, all hands managed to get some
hours of sound sleep before the sun was
sinking to tho adoe of the Sweetwater
range
Then came the careful grooming OF
their mounts, then a dip in the cool
waters, the smoking tins of soldier cot
fee and sizzling slips of bacon. Then
again the saddle and the silent trail,
with the moon looking down from the
zenith on their warlike array. Heavily
armed was every man, each, even the
lieutenant, with carbine and brace of
Colts, and on they rode through the
still, soft night air. chatting in low
tones, no man knowing but every one
believing that the taciturn, blue eyed
young officer in the lead was heading
them for lair of the Birdsall gang. It
was too far south just then for Sioux.
Another moon and they had crossed
during the dark hours the broad plains
of the Laramie and were winding up
among the hills. Another rest and
squirting from the rear there overlook
them bronzed, weather beaten from
tiersman whom Mr.. Loring greeted
without show of surprise, and when
again they moved on it was he who rode
at the lieutenant's left, up, up wind
ing trail among the frowning heights
until just as every man was wondering
when Oh earth they could hope for bite
the noiseless signal to halt was given,
while the leaders dismounted and peered
over shoulder of bluff ahead, held
brief consultation, then down the ravine
to the left rode the stranger, and back
to his men came Loring, his eyes kim
ding.
"There is camp half mile ahead
where have to make an arrest" said
= he quietly. keep close at my heels.
Well have to gallop when we get in
view. Draw pistol. Don't fire unless
they do. They probably won't"
And they didn't. Half dozen star
tied men, gambling about blanket;
two or three sleeping off drunk and
one hunted, haunted wretch nervously
pacing up and down among the pines
were no match for the dash of dozen
bluejackets coming laundering into
view. There was no thought of fight
Those who could catch their horses
threw themselves astride bareback and
shot for the heart of the hills; two or
three scrambled off afoot and were
quickly run down; one, heavily built
haggard, hollow eyed man, shook from
head to foot as the lieutenant refined up
his painting and excited horse and coolly
said:
"You are my prisoner, Burleigh."
Nor was there attempt at rescue
Mounting his four captives on their
horses, their feet dashed to the stirrups
their hands bound, all the abandoned
arms ammunition and provisions de-
stroyed and the camp burned, Loring
led promptly away up the range toward
the north until clear of the timber, then
down the westward slope toward the
Laramie valley once more, searching
for secure place to bivouao. Far to
the north the grand old peak doomed
against the blue gray of the Wyoming
skies. Off to their left front, uplifting
a shaggy crest from its surrounding
hills, bold butte lowered fully 20
miles away, and toward that jagged
landmark Loring saw his sergeant peer
ing time and again with hand shaded
eyes.
"What do you see" he presently
asked.
Smoke, sir, think. Will the lieu
tenant look with his glass?''
Silently Loring unslung his binooular
and gazed. His eyes were keen, but I'M
trained. "Take it yourself, sergeant, !"
he said. And the veteran trooper refined
,, out to one side and peered long and
, steadily, then came trotting up to the
head of column, doubt and suppressed
excitement mingling on his weather
haptan faro