Williston graphic. (Williston, Williams County, N.D.) 1895-1919, 1901-01-17

10 choose the site of the new Big Horn
post had been imperiled by Deans
at a critical moment in
presence of band of probably hostile
Sioux. Burleigh had plainly intimated
as much to his chief clerk and Col.
Stevens, and when Loring and Stone
came through day or two later and
questions were asked about that meet
ing, the aidrde-camp gave it as dis
tinctly to be understood that he had
practically assumed command, Deans
being manifest, and his
own prompt measures had extricated
the little detachment from a most deli
cate and dangerous position. The en-
gineer, let it be said, did not hear this
statement, and the aid was very care
full not to make it in his presence. He
was comparative stranger, and as no
one presumed to question him he vol
no information.
Planning to bivouac until dawn of the
next day at Folsom's, Dean had then in
tended to reach Fort Emory in three
easy marches. He was anxious to
bring his horses in in best possible con-
dition, despite all their hard service;
yet now, barely two o'clock on this hot
June afternoon, came most unlocked
for, most importunate interruption
to his plans. Springing to the gate at
the sergeant's summons, he first direct
ed his gaze to the distant peaks, recog-
nizedinstantly the nature of the smoke
puffs there rising, then turned for ex-
PLANTATION to the swift-riding courier,
whose horses heels were making the
dust fly from the sun-dried soil. One
or two ranch hands, with anxious faces,
came Fastening over from the corral.
The darby cook rushed up from the
kitchen, rifle in hand. Plainly those
fellows were we'll used to wars alarms.
Mrs. Folsom, with staring eyes and
dreadful anxiety in her face, gazed
only at the hurrying courier, clinging
the while to the pillar of the portico,
as though needing support. The smoke
puffs on the mountain, the dust-cloud
back of the tearing rider were symp-
toms enough for Dean.
"Get in your herd, sergeant!' he
shouted, at the top of his voice; and
over the rushing of the Laramie his
words reached the rousirg bivouac,
and saddle blankets were sent swing
ing in air in signal to the distant
guards, and within few seconds every
horse was headed for home; and then,
to the sound of excited voices was add
ed the rousing thunder of scores of
bounding hoofs, as, all in dust-cloud
of their own, the sixty chargers came
galloping in, ears erect, eyes ablaze,
nostrils wide, names and tails stream
ing in the blaze, guided by their eager
guards full tilt for camp. Out ran
their riders, brides in hand, to meet
and check them, every horse when
within a few yards of his master SEEM
ing to settle on his launches and plow
up the turf in the sudden effort to
check his speed, long months of service
on the plains and in the heart of Indian
land having taught them in times of
alarm or peril that the quicker they
reached the guiding hand and bore,
each, his soldier on his back, the
quicker would vanish the common foe.
Even before the painting steed of the
headlong courier came within hailing
distance of the ranch, half the horses
in the troop were caught and the bits
were rafting between their teeth;
then, as the messenger tore along the
gentle slope that led to the gateway,
his wearied horse laboring painfully
at the rise, Mrs. Folsom recognized one
of her husbands herdsmen, man who
had lived long years in Wyoming and
could be unnerved by no false alarm,
and her voice went up in shrek of
fear as she read the tidings in his al
most CHASTITY face.
"Where is Hal?" she screamed. "Oh,
what has happened?"
"He's safe," was the answering call,
as the rider waved reassuring hand,
but at the instant he bent low.
"Thank God, you're here, lieutenant"
he gasped. mount quick. Halls cor
rallied two miles out there under the
butte-Sioux!" And then they saw
that he was swooning, that the blood
was streaming down the left thigh and
leg, and before hand could help him,
he rolled senseless, doubled up in the
dust at his horses feet, and the weary
creature never even started.
Saddle up, men!" rang the order
across the stream. And then while
strong arms lifted and bore the wound
ed herdsman to the porch, Dean turned
to the wailing mistress, who, white
faced and terror-stricken, was wiring
ing her hands and moaning and run
ming wildly up and down the walk and
calling for some one to go and save
her husband. Dean almost bore her to
a chair and babe her fear nothing. He
and his men would lose not q moment.
On the floor at her feet lay the little
card photograph, and Dean, hardly
thinking what he did, stopped, picked
it up and placed it in the pocket of his
hunting shirt, just as the trumpeter
on his plunging gray reached the gate,
Deans big, handsome charger trotting
swiftly alongside. In an instant the
lieutenant was in saddle, in another
second trooper gafloped up with his
belt and carbine. Already the men
were leading into line across the
stream, and, bidding the trumpeter tell
Sergt. Shaughnessy to follow at speed,
the young officer struck spur to his
horse and, carbine in hand, a single
trooper at his heels, away he darted
down the valley. C troop, splashing
through the ford moment later, took
the direct road past the stockade of
the corral, disappeared from sight a