The Press. (Stafford Springs, Conn.) 1883-1935, 1901-01-17
THE DEATH BIRD
COPYRIGHT, 1900, By c. p. LEWIS.
BY m. QUAD.


Long enough before l, lieutenant Of
infantry, made my first trip across the
great Staked plains of Texas as an es-
cort to a couple of civil engineers had
heard of the death bird of the desert.
No living man had ever seen it, but
there were plenty who had heard its
notes, and its notes always meant dan
ger. One might travel to and fro on
the Staked plains for a year and never
sec bird Of any sort except about their
edges. The only living things to be
met with are serpents, lizards, scorpi-
ons and skulking wolves. The aridness
and desolation are too much even for
the buzZards.
The death bird, so the legend went,
appeared only at night. and then no
man saw him. He cam" to give warn
ing. His notes were peculiar, and no
hunter could initiate him, but one hear
ing them in the silence of the night and
the desert could make no mistake. Be-
fore making the trip an old hunter said
to me:
There is but one danger to look out
for-the Apaches. They may follow
you clear across the desert. They
will not attack you by daylight, but at
night, without your having seen a sign
of them. they will creep upon you as
softly as serpents and spare none. Lis
ten for the notes of the death bird, and
when you hear them take instant warn
ing"
nf in no rfv
Fourteen soldiers were supposed to
constitute force able to take care Of
itself anywhere. There was more anx-
iety as to our water and rations than
as to the Indians who might dog our
footsteps. 1t was midsummer, and the
heat on that great surface of sand and
alkali soil was simply terrific. After
the first day, when we were clear OF
shelter. march of six or eight miles
was all any one was capable Of. The
nights brought cool breezes and recu-
peration, but they also brought lone
illness no person can describe. Men
af1Oat on the wide ocean in a small
boat hear strange sounds at night and
are made afraid. Men on the desert
are almost made towards by the I'M
canny surroundings. If there Is the
chirp of a cricket or the howl of a coy
ote, it is not company. 1t simply adds
to the loneliness. If the night Is unbro-
ken, then it is as if heavy blanket
had been thrown over your head to
shut out the living world.
We saw nothing of Indians. No one
| believed that party took our trail. A
faithful watch was kept. however. but
after few nights when had come to
realize how helpless we really were
found myself depending on that legend
of the death bird. If we were menaced,
he would warn us. We had been out q
week when there came the blacklist Of
black nights. 1t was black because it
was mOOnless and storm was gather
ing. Our tents were set up in a clus-
ter. but they could not be seen at dis
lance of six feet. Three sentinels were
on duty. but they could not see the
sands at their feet. If the Indians had
followed. there would never be a bet
ter night for curprise. 1t would be
no trick at all to creep within stabbing
distance of the sentinels. and a volley
Of arrows and bullets sent through the
tents must wound or kill. most Of US.
l was sitting in the door OF my tent
an hour after midnight, wondering
how soon the storm would break. when
there came to me from a point not far
distant the notes Of the death bird.
They sounded a bit like the call of q
quail, and yet they were unlike. They
were like words instead of notes. They
were soft and clear. and from the very
first they said to me:
Look out. Look out! Look out!
Danger! Danger! Danger. Death
Death! Deathr'
| repeat that the bird seemed to be