The Lakeland evening telegram. (Lakeland, Fla.) 1911-1922, 1915-11-20

oil the pTlZeQ trophies WIN winch tney
would part, and when they would sell
no more he went into the mountains
and hunted. The tusks he got there
represented hardships which would
have killed most men; but the hard
ships were past; Stag-Hound thought
smilingly of the future. He counted
the teeth again and his eyes shone.
Then he crept into his blanket
Sleep would not come to Stag
Hounds eyes. and he wondered at his
wakefulness. He was not hungry, he
was not cold, and what besides could
keep a man awake? The wind brought
cry, and he sat up. alert. 1t was
only the plaintive whine of the cat in
the canyon, and he lay down impa-
tiently.
An hour passed, and still he had not
closed his eyes. Suddenly the horses
lifted their heads and snorted. He
heard the 1oundering of some animal
upon the frozen crust-perhaps hun
cry mountain lion coming to investi-
gate.
Stag-Hound's hand slipped to his
rifle, and he waited for the shifting of
the brute at the door
MY Gar! Oh my Carl" 1t was a
human voice gasping in agony. Stag
Hound sprang from his bunk and
hurled aside the log which propped the
door A man fumbling at the side of
the cabin gave a thick, inarticulate cry
and dropped unconscious
Stag-Hound carried him to his bunk
and covered him with blankets. To re
kindle the fire was a moments work.
When the dried brush lighted the
cabin he went to look at the man in
the bunk.
Percy Dubois, the horse-thief!" An
expression of dislike followed Stag
Hounds exclamation of amazement.
Percy Dubois, the French-and-Indian
breed" who stole mems wives with
his suave tongue and handsome eyes,
and sold their horses across the line"
Percy Dubois had robbed his cache
once upon time. But Stag-Hound cut
the boots from Dubois feet and rubbed
the marblelike face with snow till he
opened his eyes and screamed with
the pain of returning circulation. Percy
Dubois would rustic no more horses;
his feet and hands were dead
Il go for hunt mountain Sheep,
he said. II get off trail on re pass.
Packhorse, saddle-horse, slip off re
mountain and slip to pieces on re rock
tree, four hundred feet down, by Gar.
No grub, no blanket, l walk walk and
freeze!" in his pain the halfbreed wept
at the recollection of his sufferings.
Never mind. pard, said Stag
Hound, gently. Tomorrow I'll fix you
up comfortably here and strike out to
the Agency for help. Well fetch you
out easy. Just keep a stiff upper
lip
With the first faint light Of morning
Stag Hound rode from the cabin There
was one blanket tied behind his sad
die and a bit of jerked meat in his
pocket He forced his horse down the
dangerous mountain trail and out upon
the trackless prairie. That night he
shivered beneath clump of willows
In couee which already sheltered
two or three halfstarved cattle.
On the third day the sun was down
when Stag-Hound's exhausted horse
staggered over the slushy road which
led into the Agency. The chinook had
come at last.
There were lights and laughter in
Sharpe's, the Indian traders, store,
which. in the absence of saloons. was
the general gathering place for the
Indians, breeds, and whites of the
reservation. When Stag Hound threw
the reins over his horses head, he
could have cried at hearing the voices
of his kind again. He opened the door
and stood before them, gaunt, haggard,
his clothes in rags
There was moments silence, then
a great shout went up They dragged
him forward and crowded about him,
Even the faces of the Indians about
the stove wore looks of friendliness.
All, it was good to be home again,
The welcome, the warmth, the COM
radeship made the blood run fast in
his veins II was good, all good hut
he trembled in his eagerness to hear
of Her. He was vaguely surprised
that her name was not on every
tongue, as 1t was ever in his heart.
They told him the news eagerly; of
Dad Symonds. who froze on the Koot.
mai pass; of Hen" Barnes, sent over
the road again for rustling; OF the
parties" from St Paul, who had bond
ed the Bridal Chamber mine: of Pete
McDevitt. who married the squaw and
came to the Agency each Thursday
with her grub ticket: and the school.
marin from Cut Bank
Stag-Hound could not breathe; his
very heart stood still-"She married
Percy Dubois, the -, and they live
in the shack on the CROSSWORD
Flats"
The blood left Stag Hounds face and
the world went rornd He grasped the
counter hard TO steady himself. He
drew a sobbing breath that hurt him.
then the blood came in crimson flood.
Where have you been?' asked
Sharpe, the trader, first to break the
surprised silence.
bteu. CFleu Sids-ttound, hoarSely
I've been maxim fool of nv
self"
He tore the canvas sack from his
pocket and threw a handful of elk.
tusks in the air.
Don't, man. Sharpe, the trader.
laid hand upon his arm. You're
THROWN away money!"
Money" shouted SANCTIONED
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