The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1903-04-28
Sandy Duchene'S Ghost Ride

with fear as he rode through the Grand
river timber on the way from CoWskln
prairie to Big Cabin creek. For in the
waning afternoon he had listened to the
tales of old Tookh Eteh an ancient
Cherokee, whose memory Of evil was
peruiciOusly complete.
In all this wicked Indian Territory
the old man had said. there is but one
road that has drunk more blood IMAM
this across Grand river. The tran 70
Youngers' bend was worse, but it had
old Tom Starr and the great outlaws
from Missouri. Grand river raised It's
own devils. and out of its big TIMBER
rode men to murder and worse OL
that evil brood / knew the WOrst-and
I tell you that their ghosts prowl on the
road. At night ! would not pass over
the road; no, not for all the cattle
Colonel Clarke oWnsi
Now ii was not Sandy Duchene s way
to neglect his employers interests be-
cause of some old Womans tale, and he
rode bllthelv away after supper TO join
the roundup on Big Cabin He figured
that "A steady fOX-trOt would land him
at Graysons an hour before midnight
his horse fresh. and himself in just the
mood Scr q solid five hours of slum ber
A daytime ride in the middle of sum
mer would be fa- worse. both for him.
self and his beloved Prophet pony. That
was Sandy's daylight matter-of-fact
view.
For the first five miles. to the edge Of
Ane broad woods, the puncher Whlstled
.Skewballs Derby" a rollicking ballad
that celebrated in interminable series
OF quatrains the achievements of some
noted race horse. The pulsing heat of
the prairie gave way to a cooling south
wind, and the merry 5craping of the
katydlds was replaced, as he neared the
timber, by the dOleful sing-sOng of the
locusts. The shadows of the trees once
over him. he stopped his whistling. His
Prophet pOny's ears began to jerk for
ward and backward as the small Crea-
lures of the night ratified the bushes or
rFIa q l7n tI~4~
clear space that showed the bright stars
Winklng overhead gave way to a long
alley of gloom Sandy heard little foot
steps pattering ahead. whistled shrilly
as he urged the pony to a quick gallop,
and. as the shrubs moved al the right
ne snlmed the pungent odor of a skunk.
why mad that crazy old man insisted
upon telling him of the murder of Depu-
" Marshal Jim Henderson at the cor
ner of Bates fieIdE AS he came upon
the spot, and the dim starlight PLAYED
strange pranks in the corner of the old
ratlfence, he recalled the story He was
Whistling The Cowboys Lament" as
he came up to the place where Hender-
son had fallen shot from the angle of
that old fence. The Prophet pony SHE'D
there, at the sudden, grOtesQue appari-
ton of a stump Sandy rebuked him
sharply:
Brace up there. you Prophet You
thinks to yourself, now, here's -= and
the nre amt hot1 But it amt nothin'
but cottonwood stump. old boy" He
leaned over the saddle horn to slap the
pony neck affectionately Beyond the
stump he recalled the words of a pleas
ant little ditty, which promised that
IF you go for to ride on the railroad.
And you ride on the U. p. train,
My Lulu girl viii see you
And throw you out in the rainr'
The boot Of an owl close by doused
the puncher's singing All of the tales
he had ever heard of murders in lonely
places were full of hooting owls-that
was the signal "Hoggy" Harlan had
used to call a confederate out of his
cabin when the two murdered an old
preacher for a SO bill they knew he
had. 'HOggy's" cabin was lust al the
right now. a hundred yards back in
that clearing. The man himself had
been hanged at Fort Smith. but around
the dilapidated old log hut still chung
dark tales. The half-demented old
road that led up to the forsaken clear
ing was grown over with hickory
sprouts and sumach, on top of which
rioted wild blackberry vines.
Opposite to that old trail Sandy
heard the bushes rattle, as something
came down from the cabin The
Prophet pony held his ears straight for
ward, and crowded to the other side
of the road. For the minute the cow
boy was frightened, and in his fright
pulled up short to convince himself that
he WAS not at all scared. The pony
wanted to go forward. for he knew
that green pasture awaited him after
"a refreshing roll i'm the stable lot. But
Sandy held him in, a hand placed re-
assuringly on his name. waiting for the
appearance of the Thing Numbering
through the bushes and vines
stand still, you coyote, urged Sandy.
as the noise came closer. jerking at
Prophets rein roughly He went on.
speaking rapidly:
1T amt a dog-gone thing. YOU pup
What you want to run away for2
You re a nice brave little bronze amt
you'll" He slapped the pOny's neck
sharply, causing him to jump forward.
This time there was a clear note of ter
ror i'm his voice as he rebuked the
Prophet. Five minutes he waited for
the appearance Of the Thing. the steps
coming on slowly. the bushes family
rafting His face was beaded with
sweat; he cursed the heat of midsum-
mer and drew shirt sleeve across his
forehead. 1t seemed that the footsteps
had traversed a mile of road and yet
they sounded no nearer. Would it pat
ter out thereforever, and hold him
trembling in telror2
But there was the noise close at hand
now. almost under the Prophet pony's
nose Then into the dim starlight
emerged a huge black SOW. At sight
of the horse and man the creature
grunted hoarsely and crashed back into
the brush.
Curse you. Hoggy," yelled the trem-
bling man. half hysterical with surpris-
ed relief Curse you; take that" San
dy's pistol was out and two shots
broke the summer nights silence With
whoop of sane joy he lifted the pony
into a gallop. gathering through dark
alley of trees. He sang now, i'm full.
carrying tone. an unprintable ditty that
was concerned mainly with a terrible
defiance Of the devil.
The song died down. the pony's pace
fell to the inevitable fox-trot and the
locusts skirred and skirred filling the
night with sound.
Near the edge of Grand river stood
the Nelly Gray cabin. Nesting i'm a
group of tall elms set back from the
road less than hundred feet AS the
roar of the broad, shallow stream fret
ting down over the boulders. came to