The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1900-05-24
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: An Ayenging Rescue )
By Bourbon Wilson. =
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By Bourbon Wilson

IN THOSE good old days when the
Apache was yet lord of the Mexican
Sierra Madre, i was commissary clerk
in grading outfit that was engaged in
building a railroad in the state of Chi
huahua. While this position was one
that gave me constant opportunity for
the study of mulishness, there having
been 300 mules in the outfit, it was not
one calculated to make me familiar
with feminine nature, graders camp
being no place for woman; neverthe-
less, it was while so employed that my
personal observation brought me to the
conclusion that there is no creature
more whimsical than a woman, unless
it be a mule.
Chihuahua was a wild bit of country
In those days, an uninhabited desert of
bare mountains and hills. and waterless
valleys and plains for the greater part:
as for that matter, it is still so, but the
Apaches are not there now, and
Apaches are-well, there is nothing
with which to compare an Apache-un-
less to the devil, of whose character
lstlcs have only hearsay knowledge.
The mules of the outfit were plain.
everyday mules, sometimes sensible
and tractable, at other times foolish
and stubborn, but energetic kickers al
ways. Their leader was not one of
their own number, as one would natur-
ally expect, but an old gray mare with
vicious temper-who hated them with
a hnf ~ 4 Il.
fighting them, ever keeping them well
beyond the reach of her heels and teeth
and her they reverenced, if ever
mules can be said to reverence any,
thing, never offering to return her
Kicks and bites, and they would have
followed her into the very laws of
death. And because of this leadership
the old gray was assigned as mount to
the man who took the herd out every
night to pasture, for with her under
the control of an experienced man there
was but little danger of the mules be-
ing stampeded and run off by the
Apaches.
With few exceptions the men of the
outfit were in keeping with their sur
roundings. Wild, rough fellows. whose
only law was the dictate of the six
shooter held persuasively at "the
drop" and the few orders by the "boss"
of the outfit. Of these, none was wilder
or rougher than one who was named
Bill Smith. Physically, he was giant.
and he was an ideal laborer, but moral
ly he was weakling, and his great
strength in connection with eXtraordi-
nary quickness in drawing his gun, civ
ing him unlimited confidence in him
self, at the same time inspiring his
comrades with fear of him. he became
the bully of the camp, though he was
not the coward that most DULLES are.
Among the few who were not of Bills
class was young Mexican, whose name
appeared on the books as Luis Montez.
but who was known to the men as kid
Cook" this nickname having come of
his position as cooks assistant. and
his smooth, beardless face. He was a
quiet fellow of about 10 years, given to
blushing when roughly spoken to. and
was as shy and timid as girl; natural
ly he associated very little with the 9th
er men, and, disliking him because of
this, they bullied him continually.
Part of Kids duty was to help serve
at table, and one day, while filling Bills
cup with coffee, some one struck his
arm, and some of the hot fluid fell on
the bully's hand. With a below of
rage, Bill sprang to his feet and, with
sweeping blow, sent Kid staggering
down in a corner of the tent. where he
stood over him with drawn revolver,
threatening to kill him in a dozen diff
ferent ways if he should so much as bat
his eye. Nobody offered to intervene.
for all knew that, if left alone, Bill
would do the boy no further harm, but