Audubon Republican. [volume] (Audubon, Iowa) 1894-1925, 1901-08-01

wind was wantonly ripping the leaves
from the branches, her head dropped
low in hopeless despair.
| shadow, thrown by the setting
sun, betrayed presence. Dumbly she
raised her eyes to look.
Ugh" said tall, grunting Washoe
buck.
She turned away her head again.
| "Mahala, do you wait for Mingo?"
said the man. Johnny Shag is big
ger chief. Mingo shall never come"
She looked in silence on the ashes of
the wood burned the day before.
'Mahala," he added, zone, two moons
johnny Shag come to take you the trail
to my wigwam. Why not any talk?
Too long, you sabbee? Mahala waits
for Mingo. Better look out Mahala;
johnny Shag is warrior. To-day you
better talk"
"One moon, let me think" she
YEARLY answered. Let me wait one
moon"
"One moon, yet. johnny Shag will
wait. Many things come before the
moon again." He glided away, a1d
again her head sank YEARLY down.
Mingo, the Washoe, stealthily re-
turning to Chloride hill, kept cautious
ears and eyes awide, to learn the re-
suit of the murder at the mine. Susie,
he rightly conjectured. would have
guessed the truth. He avoided the
wikiup, but remained in the town. Pa
thence with many an Indian is virtue
On a crisp, cool day, while Mingo
talked with a group of bucks on cor
ner, Shag, on a pony and armed with
rifle, rode up behind. Raising his
gun, he deliberately shot Mingo
through the body, and escaped to the
hills.
The thoroughly astounded camp Of
ficials promptly gave pursuit, but all
in vain. Friends and relations of the
dead man assisting, the country was
secured, skillfully. cunningly Canyons,
valleys, the shoulders of the noun
tains, were traversed and searched,
but nothing availed. Shag enjoyed ev-
cry advantage.
Three Indian trailers, mounted, came
at length to where the fugitive was
lying in ambush. One of these escaped
with his life and rode like a demon
to tell of the two, lying grisly and
stark, struck in the back by the bull
let's Of Shag. their faces now twisted
in the sun.
A STOPPING, stricken Washoe, the old
Red Wolf, whose boys they were that
had 1ind in hn L.. III
ence, alone, on the path of war. The
fued was his. In the night he found
the man he sought, found him asleep
left him asleep-his knife standing
firm, erect, buried to the hilt in the
breast of Shag the warrior.
The year grew old; its days, like
the hours Of waking of an old and
passing man. were dim and short, its
nights long sleeps, that made it none
the stronger.
And yet there came day that was
like an echo Of what had been before
the year began to age. Susie, wan but
wistful OF face. went from the hope
less wigwam and hurried away I'D the
moaning creek. She went to a copse
of alder trees, entered and was lost to
view.
An hour later she slowly emerged
and in her arms she carried child. a
little boy with fairest hair and the
bluest of eyes. She seated herself in
the sunlight and shivered as she nes-
tied the infant and cooed it softly with
Indian words. She was faint and
weary. but strangely happy. Her baby
resembled its father. young as 1t was
Her heart went leaping to it-embrac-
ed it-owned 1t! Her pain, her suffer-
ing, everything was forgotten.
All the afternoon she sat by tie
stream nursing her baby. Guiding II
closely. warming 1t ever in her throb-
bling breast. AS the twilight approach
ed, the air was the balm of the Indian
summer.
Rising, she placed her baby In the
rustling grass; deity she bent the
subtle willows down-masses of willow
and throwing the grass. leaves and
twigs over all. made roof to catch
the frost. Into this with her child she
crept, nesting it gently as before.
CdhC uoWh. Qullc IdIt Tile
babe awoke and feebly cried. She
smothered it and sang, in her sad
sweet voice. lullaby:
| hear the crickets sing in the long
grasses;
Many camp-fires of the braves shine
in the sky
They shine again in the little river;
The xyind 10 small and oaptIa x,ha,, a.
plays in your hair
Lie in my heart as the pebbles lie in
she little river;
As the crickets lie In the long grasses;
Shine in my heart as the camp-fres
shine in the sky;
Sleep. little Fawn, till the sun comes
over the mountain.
The little Fawn slept, but never to
wake till a greater sun should top the
mountains of darkness. misery and
despair.
Singing and cooling, Susie weaved in
the darkness-unconsciou of the flight
with the birds, toward the summer
of the new little soul. At midnight,
bending forward to kiss the downy
cheek, she was startled at its GOODNESS.
Hurriedly feeling the wee soft hands.
the pulseless feet, the tiny body, she
sounded the utmost depths Of agony.
She rushed from the shelter, the cold
little body in her arms. By the light
Of the stars. the fires of the braves"
she saw the touch of the grim visitor.
Then on the air of night arose a pain
song out Of heart rudely broken.
She sank unconscious to the earth.
Away off hillward gaunt coyote
howled an answer back, dismal, long.