Omaha daily bee., 1902-02-17

In the old days when your Uncle Samuel
was trying to catch Sioux Indians with in
fantry, Just the same as John Bull Is now
hunting Beers, Bill Burton was an aged
captain In a regiment Of foot. He was, as
! have said, up in years. and 1t took a good
bit Of betting to go round his middle. He
had intelligence enough. as the result OF
many years Of soldering, to know that
General Walkaheap, who was IN command,
wasn't likely to catch any Indians when
the Indians did not want to be caught. Al
most every day, though, the Sioux used to
select favorable spots from which advan-
tsge they potted at the plodding soldiers.
and we're gone on their rushing ponies be-
fore they could be brought to seriousness.
Far out from the sides Of the wagon train
plodded the dough-boys in extended order,
with loaded rifles. eagerly scanning every
cut-bank and sagebush field for an Indian
Jack-in-the-box. Old General Walkaheap.
as we will call him, was a tremendously
energetic man, grown old in war, with
quite too much confidence in the legs OF
men. Fighting flies was very exasperating
to him. SO day by day, including Sundays,
he followed his long jaw into the heart OF
the Sioux buffalo range, leaving white signs
many hundred miles in his rear. The angry
red men redoubled their efforts to arrest
his progress-they yelled and they circled,
potted and volleyed, and they burned the
dry grass ahead Of him, but they never
rode over his thin blue line to the sugar
and coffee vans, which ratified and creaked
between. That was not their way, which
was unfortunate for them. They knew
that the dismounted soldiers could not run
away and that they you'd die desperately.
The -four and coffee we're too dear for the
Sioux market.
Well, out in the van rode the general,
grim and determined, quite forgetful OF
mems legs in his purpose to come to close
quarters, or to at least occupy the heart
Of their hunting range. Captain Bill Bur
ton had water blisters on his feet, his can
teen was always dry and he longed for a
days let-up, so he might wash, shave and
lie quietly on his back with his pipe In his
mouth inviting his soul"
There are those Indians now he said
to his trusty lieutenant, Dick Van Nick.
STEADY, meni Close up your intervals.
Don't FIRE! Let them come closer"
Down through the dry washes sped the
warriors-hovering hawklike, veering before
the steady rifles and away. Again the dusty
blue line stepped forward.
Captain Burton and General walkaheap
had. in times gone by, but not forgotten,
had their personal differences and they were
by no means admirers OF each okher. They
seldom came nearer than they o~flcially had
to.
IF the old man would stop a day or sc
once a month these Indians might give us
an infantry fight. We travel so fast they
can't make up their minds what to do
remarked the vinegary Burton to Van Nick
Yes" replied Van Nick with a deer
sigh. Say. Uncle Bill, 1 wonder IL angels
have big leather armchairs to sit in? ThaI
would pretty near fill my idea Of heaven
BLOW the angels, Dick. II l could only
be a major and ride a horse, that would do
well, anyhow. Uncle BILL" spoko Dick
when we get into camp we have our little
nip, while the other fellows are as dry a.
their belt plates. What?"
Eyes, yes, my son-if only our fellow,
don't get onto us. II they do our whisk!
quick"
On the start of the expedition against tn
hostile Indians of the northwest the oil
general had, with intent to free his loade,
wagons from useless litter, ordered all tn,
whisky left behind. He had made the Of
hcers cache their personal belongings, onl.
allowing each one as much as he coult
hold out in his right hand. But Burton
and Van Nick had bought a blanket pony
which did not intrench on the governmen
transportation, and had more bedding thai
would otherwise have been possible. A
least that was. the natural theory, when a
a matter Of fact In the blanket ~pannier
were two large jugs Of rare rye whisky
carefully packed and swaddIed. The column