Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1903-08-11

When at last they overlook the leaders, and
then. to their CONSERVATION. Angela Wren
was not with them. They had neither seen
nor heard of her. and Byrne was aghast
when told that. alone without a guide she
mad ridden in among the foothills of those
desolate. painless mountains. THE girl is
mad said he. land yet it's like her to
seek to reach her father
Instantly they divided forces to. search tol
her. Gorges and canons innumerable
scanned the westward face of this wild spur
OF the Sierras, and by the merest luck in
the world, one of Arnold's men, spurriag
along a stony ridge, caught sight of a girl
lsh form far across a deep ravine, and
quickly fired two shots in signal that he
had sighted the chase. 1t brought Ar
mold and two of his men to the spot and,
threading their way sometimes afoot and
leading their steeos, sometimes in saddle
ana urging them through the labyrinth OF
powders they followed Oh. At noon they
had lost not only all sight OF her but OF
their comrades, nor had they seen the lat
ter since. Byrne and his orderlies with
three of the-party that pulled out from
SANDY with Arnold in the morning had dis
appeared. Again and again they fired theiI
Henrys, hoping for answering signal OF
i! perhaps to attract -AnseIls at .ention. All
doubt as to her purpose was now ended.
MAD she might be, but determined she was,
ana had deliberately dougeG past them al
the Beaver, tearing opposition to her
project At two, moreover, they found
that she could trail as well as they iol
among the stunted cedars al the crest of a
steep divide they found the print of the
Stout brogans worn by their infantry COM
radcS, and, down. among the rocks of the
next ravine, crushed bits of bareback by a
tank in the hillside. She had stopped
there long enough at least to water Punch,
then pushed on again.
Once more they saw her, not three miles
ahead at O'Clock, just entering a little
clump of pines at the top of steep &C.
clivity. They fired their rifles and shoued
loud in hopes of hating her, but all to no
r. mo nd lnd
them to bivouac. They built a big fire tc
guide the wanderers, but morning broke
without sign of them; on they went, for
now. away from the rocks the trail was
often distinct, and once again they found
the pony hoof prints and thanked God. At
by Arnold's watch, among the breaks
across a steep divide they found another
tank, more crumbs. a grain sack with some
scattered barley, more bareback and the
last trace of Angela. Arnold's hand shook
as did his voice. as he drew forth little
huttering ribbon-the "snood" poor Wren
so loved to see binding his child's luxuriani
hair.
They reasoned she had stopped here to
feed and water her pony, and had probably
bathed her face and flung loose her hair
and forgotten later the binding ribbon
They believed she had followed on after
Stouts hard-marching company. 1t was
easy to trail. They counted on finding her
when they found her father, and now here
lay Wren unconscious of her loss, and
Blakely realizing 1t all-cruelly, feverishly
realizing 1t-yet SO weakened by his wounds
as to be almost powerless to march or
mount and go in search of her.
No question now as to the duty imme-
diately before them In twenty minutes the
pack mules were again strapped between
the saplings, the little command was slow
ly climbing toward the westward heights,
with Arnold and two of his friends scouting
the rough trail and hillsides, firing at long
intervals and listening in suspense almost
tntolerable for some answering signal. The
other of their number had volunteered to
follow Stout over the plateau toward the
pass and acquaint him with the latest news
While the sun was still high in the heay-
ems far. to the northward, they family
heard or thought they heard two rifle shots
At O'Clock, as they toiled through tan
gle OF rock and stunted pine, Arnold, rid
ing well to the front, came suddenly out
upon a bare ledge from which he could look
over wild. wide sweep of mountain side
stretching leagues to north and south, and
there his keen and practiced eye was greet
ed by sight that thrilled him with dread
unspeakable. Dread. not for himself or his j
convoy of wounded, but dread for Angela.
Jutting from the dark fringe of pines along
projecting bluff, perhaps four miles away.
little puffs or clouds of smoke each sepa-
rate and distinct, were sailing straight !
aloft In the pulseless air-Indian signals: |
beyond possibility OF doubt. Some Apachea.