The Leon reporter. (Leon, Iowa) 1887-1930, 1913-03-20


shelter, built hasty fire, and poured
not coffee between the shivering lips.
With the earliest gray Of another
dawn, the white man caught the
strongest pony, and rode on alone. He
never knew the story Of those hours
only that his trail led straight into
the north. He rode erect at first, then
leaning forward clinging to the name;
now and then he staggered along on
foot dragging his pony by the rein.
Once he stopped to eat, breaking the
ice in a creek for water. 1t began to
snow, the thick fall Of flakes blotting
out the horizon, leaving him to stum-
BILE bllndly through the murk. Then
darkness came, wrapping him in a
unspeakable desert. His limbs stiff,
fened, his brain reeled from intense
fatigue. He dragged himself back into
the saddle, pressing the pony into
slow trot. Suddenly out of the wall
of gloom sprang the yellow lights of
Camp Supply. Beneath these winking
eyes of guidance there burst the red
z. d
pony fell, but the exhausted man had
forgotten now everything but duty.
The knowledge that he had won the
long struggle brought him new
strength. He wrenched his feet free
from the stirrups, and ran forward,
calling to the guard. They met him,
and he stood straight before them, ev-
cry nerve taut-a soldier.
! Il bring dispatches from Custer"
he said slowly, holding himself firm.
Take me to General Sheridan"
The corporal walked beside him,
down the trampled road, questioning
eagerly as they passed the line of
shacks toward the double log house
where the commander was quartered.
Hamlin heard, and answered briefly,
yet was conscious only of an effort to
retain his strength. Once within, he
saw only the short, sturdy figure sit
ting behind table, the shaggy gray
beard, the stern, questioning eyes
which surveyed him. He stood there
straight, motionless, his uniform pow.
dered with snow, his teeth clinched
so as not to betray weakness, his
face roughened by exposure, grimy
with dirt, and disigured by a weeks
growth of beard. Sheridan stared at
him, shading his eyes from the glow
OF the lamp.
"You are from Custer?"
Eyes, SIR
He drew the papers from within his
overcoat, stepped forward and laid
them on the table. Sheridan placed
one hand upon them, but did not re-
move his gaze from Hamlin's face.
when did you leave?"
''The evening of the 9th, sir. I was
sent back with an Usage guide to
bring you this report"
and the guide?"
'He gave out on the Cimarroa and
came on alone.'
And Custer? Did he strike Black
Kettle?"
1--WE found his camp on the evening
. OF the 26th, and attacked at daybreak
the next morning. There were more
Indians with him than we expected to
find-between two and three thou
sand, warriors from all the southern
tribes. Their tepees were set up for
ten miles along the Washita. We cap
tured Black Kettles village, and de-
stroyed it; took his pony herd, and
released number of white prisoners,
including some women and children.
| There was a sharp fight, and we lost
unit 1off To
learn how many"
"And the commands it in any
danger?"
II think not, sir. General Custer
, was confident he could retire safely
The Indians were thoroughly whipped,
and apparently had no chief under
whom they could rally"
The General opened the single sheet
of paper, and ran his eyes slowly
down the lines of writing. Hamlin,
feeling his head reel giddily, reached
out silently and grasped the back of
a chair in support. Sheridan glanced
up.
General Custer reports Major Eli
oft as missing and several officers
badly wounded"
Eyes, SIR
what Indians were engaged, and
under what chefs?"
MOSTLY Cheyennes. although there
were bands of Arapahoes, kiowas,
Comanches, and a few Apaches. Lit
tie Rock was in command after Black
Kettle was killed-that is of the Chey-
ennes. Little Raven, and Santanta
led the Others"
"a fiend, that last. But, Sergeant,
you are exhausted. I will talk with
you tomorrow. The officer of the day
will assign you quarters"
Hamlin, still clinging to the chair
with one hand, lifted the other in sa-
lutte.
General Sheridan" he said, striv-
ing to control his voice, General
Clusters last words to me were that |
was to tell you who am. I do not
L u