The Idaho scimitar. [volume] (Boise, Idaho) 1907-1908, 1908-08-08
THE IDAHO SCIMITAR.

of these fellows might take shot at us from the
rocks come back"
I was hand at the appointed hour, and found
everything in readiness; couple of shot-gunS, two
rifles, outfit of fishing tackle, and last, but not
least, derijohn, which l informed was not for
Our use but for that of the drivers. They would
my companion explained when we got on shooting
grounds, give us opportunity to get off and have
pop at the BIRDS and then drive extra fast to make
up time and they drove better, he said, when they
had swallowed few fingers of that barbed
wire whisky"
Laden with paraphernalia we slipped quietly
through the main street of Boise no one being yet
astir. The air was fragrant with the scent of the
balm trees waited up from the river AS we reached
the Terry landing the stage, drawn by six horses
tull gallop, approached the river. The driver was
Tom McManus, of Ben Holidays od-tmers
on the overland route between Salt Lake and Boise
City. We soon bowling across the sage-brush
plateau my friend and the driver Willing away the
time by relating anecdotes, singing snatches of song
and chatting another about events which had oC-
Cured during their acquaintance. I could not help
noticing the attention paid the deputy by the station
keepers at the different places where we changed
horses.
The stage stations, by the way, WERE in those
days, primitive fortresseS-Og stone houses COW
cred with earth, and with no means of admitting
light except portfolios just large enough for rifle
practice. The garrisons consisted of from two to
six men, whose characters would rarely bear scrut-
my. They were chosen for their utter recklessness
OF danger and their proficiency in the use of fire
arms.
During the hrSt day we saw little game until
late in the afternoon when flushed covey of
young sagehens and the driver stopped long enough
for us to kill several
At Indian creek station we babe McManus's stage
farewell, and, after getting a meal which put me
in mind of old army life, with its bacon and bread
and black coffee served in tin cup, we took turn
at fishing in the creek. In short time we had as
many trout could comfortably carry, all about
the same size and weighing from pound to a
pound and half each.
We retired early that night sleeping the hard
earth, rolled up in blankets that had years of
service covering for both man and beast. The
down stage, which arrived at early hour in the
morning, brought news of an Indian raid at Rock
creek another days drive up the route we were on.
My companion called to side and told me
that it currently believed that the owner of the
stage-ne in the habit of bringing together at
certain stations, lot of old broken down horses and
improvising an Indian raid them for the purpose
of making the government pay for the stock thus
lost; that he thought deputy marshal it was his
duty to investigate this scandal and ascertain whether
the horses stampeded from Rock creek station were
actually stolen by hostile Indians only driven Oft
by employees under instructions, and that if | felt
like accompanying him, [ might. Nothing pleased
me better, took the next up stage to Rock
creek