The Denison review. [volume] (Denison, Iowa) 1867-current, 1902-03-14

ruins of the teams and the mangled
bodies of the entire family, except
Mile, his darling, of whom he could
not find the slightest trace. She had
evidently been carried off by the saw
age marauders, with the horses and
such goods as they chose from the
lading of the wagons.
Ii Joe had known in what direction
to pursue the cowardly and blood
thirsty Indians, he would certainly
have followed them single-handed and
alone, but, fortunately for himself,
perhaps, he had no skill or experience
in following blind trails, and was COM
PEELED to abandon the pursuit. Grief
stricken, almost heartbroken, he made
his way back to the nearest settle
ment, where he told the tragic story
of his loss, and vainly endeavored to
raise a party to accompany him in an
attempt to rescue his abducted love,
and take revenge on the murderers
of her relatives. The settlement could
not spare men enough to venture
safely upon such an errand.
AS the last atrocity was, however,
but one of long series of such fiend-
ish deeds, the government, after some
delay, sent a detachment to punish
the guilty tribe, and Joe found means
to join it as volunteer scout. But
his opportunities for revenge were
scanty, and he was unable to get
any tidings of Mile, when the saw
ages sued for peace, and obtained it,
on the usual favorable terms.
For some time he continued to
make researches, but without avail.
All the Indians with whom he was
able to converse, denied that there
were any white women captives in
the tribes so far as they knew.
Determined to remain near the spot
where the massacre occurred, in the
hope of eventually succeeding in his
quest, he secured the contract to
carry the mails to and from Rosevale,
then newly founded, and in this occu-
patton he had made himself so useful
to the inhabitants of the village that
they felt almost as anxious for him
as for their letters and newspapers,
and would have regarded his loss
from any cause of an almost irrepar-
able calamity. He was won't also to
act as eXpressman and general pur-
chasing agent for the village, and
many much-needed article, unpur-
chasable at the village store, was
brought by his trusty hands from
affair." On nearly every trip he had a
number of commissions to execute,
and many of the village matrons were
ready to aver that they could not
keep house without his assistance
thus rendered.
On the evening mentioned at the
commencement of our story, Joe did
not keep his patrons. long in sus-
pense. The more tardy ones had
barely reached the post office when
cloud of dust in the eastern hori-
zon gave the signal of his approach,
and ere long he was unstrapping his
mail bags, and at the same time ex-
changing greetings with his friends.
What's the news, Joe?" asked an
inquisitive citizen.
Indians" answered Joe, briefly.
IT did not see them, but I saw plenty
of their signs
"Are they on the warpath?"
''That's the report, and I think it is
true
Are we in danger here?"
"Not at present, 1 think. They
haven't massed their forces, and for
a few weeks, at least, will content
themselves with raiding outlying
ranches and waylaying small trains of
emigrants and travellers, and perhaps
mail carriers
you're not afraid, are you, Joe?'
'No, indeed; but shall be much
disappointed if the red rascals permit
me to make any more trips in peace
and quietness. think should rather
enjoy brush with them if they gave
me a fair show; but there are good
many places on the road where they
might ambush and kill me before |
had a chance to make any defense"
Don't you think, Joe," said stout
matron, "you had better lay off for a
trip or two, till we see what the In
dams are going to do? We had better
miss our mails for while than lose
you.'
Cline enough for me to lay off
when l am dead or disabled" replied
Joe, dryly. 'The post Office depart
ment expects me to do my duty, and
| shan't disappoint it,
And he started with his weary
horses to secure the refreshment and
rest which he and they so much need
ed. BY his side walked Mabel Stevens.
young lady whom everybody said
would make good match for Joe,
if he would only give up his futile
search for Mile Stacey, and make
the best of what chance and mis-
chance had thrown in his way.
Joe boarded with her father when
in the village, and Mabel, an unusually
well-bred and intelligent girl, was his
dearest friend. She sympathized deep
ly with his misfortune, and was, per-
haps, the only one who continued to
encourage him in his efforts to re-
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