Ottumwa semi-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1899-1903, 1900-10-02
CHAPTER XVII.

CHAPTER XVII.
That storm-burst along the ranges
had turned for "a hours every noun
tain stream into a foaming torrent
for a hundred miles. Not a bridge
remained along the Platte. Not a.
ford was fordable within two daysa
march of either Emory or FrayneI
Not courier crossed the Box Elder,
going either way, until the food went
down, and then it transpired that al
TIDE in the affairs of men had also
turned, and that there was trouble
ahead for some who had thought to
find plain sailing. For two Gays
watchers along the lower Box Elder
dragged out upon the shadows the
bodies of horses that once upon. a
time might have borne the ~. S."
brand, but were not girthed with
cavalry saddles now. Nor were there
lacking other bodies to prove that
the victims of the sudden storm were
not Uncle Sans men, much as two,
at least, of the drowned had been
wanted by the federal authorities but
Gate City and Fort Emory dreaded
and expected to hear was that Dean
and his little party had been caught
in the trap. But, living or dead, NOT
sign OF them remained along the
storm-swept ravine. What most peo-
pie of Gate City and Fort Emory
could not understand was the evi-
dence that a big gang of horse thieves,
desperadoes and renegades had sud-
denly appeared about the new town,
had spurred away northward in the
night, had kept the Frayne road till
they reached the Box Elder, riding
hard long after sunup, and there. re-
enforced, they had gone westward to
the Sweetwater trail, and, old fron-
tiersmen though they were, had been
caught in the whirl of water at Cam
on Springs, losing two of their NUM-
Der and at least dozen of their
horses. What could have lured them
into that gloomy rift at such time?
What inspiration had led Dean Out
of it2
Singly, or in little squads, many OF
them afoot, bedraggled. silent, cha
grined, the outfit" described by
Trooper Carey had SUNK away from
the neighborhood of the Box Elder as
soon as the storm subsidized. Solemnly,
as betitted soldiers, silent and alert
despite their dripping accoutrements.
the little detachment of cavalry had
pushed ahead, riding by compass over
the drenched uplands, steering for
the Sweetwater. Late in the after
noon the skies had cleared, the sun
came out and they camped in bunch
of cottonwoods on the old Casper
trail and slept the sleep of the just
and the weary. EARLY next day they
fastened on, reaching the usually
shallow stream, with Devils Gate only
few miles away, before the setting
of q second sun. Here they Toasted
and rested we'll, and before the dawn
was fairly red on the third day out
from Emory they were breasting the
turbid waters and by noon had left
the valley far to the south and were
well out toward the Big Horn coun-
try, where it behooved them to look
warily ahead, for from every ridge,
though far to the west of their prob
able raiding ground, Dean and his
men could expect to encounter SCOUT
ing parties of the Indians at any mos
ment. and one false step meant death.
The third night passed without
alarm, though every eye and ear was.
strained. The morning of the fourth
day dawned and the sun soon tinged the
misty mountain tops to the far north,
and Dean saw before him an open roll
ing country, over which it would be im-
possible to march without attracting
Indian eyes, if Indian eyes there were
within 90 miles. And with proper cau-
ton he ordered his men to keep in con-
cealment, horses grazing under guard
in deep depression near a stream, men
doing soundly by turns until the twi-
light came, and then the stars-their
night lights for long, long march.
Dawn of the fifth day found them hud-
died in deep ravine of the southern
foothills, with Warrior Gap not 80 miles
away, and now, indeed, was prudence
necessary, for the faint light showed
the fresh prints of innumerable pony
hoofs on every side. They were close
on Machpealota's lurking braves.
Which would see the other first?
1t must have been somewhere toward
five o'clock in the afternoon that Dean,
searching with his field-glass the suns
CONTINUED on page 1a.)