Ottumwa tri-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1903-1916, 1916-07-29

lin his previous letter Mr.. King tells
of meeting once more with the desert
party after he and his partner had
been through many thrilling expert
ences during which they lost their
bearings following fight with herd
OF wild horses led by a stallion that
had once been domesticated but later
Joined his wild brethren. The present
installment from Mr.. Kings pen prom.
ises equal interest to those who have
followed the long series of stories
dealing with his trip across the desert
half century ago. Those who have
not read the prior articles will find
these contributions full of interest.
The search for an unknown animal
that frightened the camp makes an
interesting chapter in the series as
will be found In the present article
which follows in Mr.. Kings own
words: ..... ...
Before going to blankets, in COM
pany with some of the men we reach
ed the hillside and examined every
nook and crevice that we could find In
search of the animal We had seen the
day previous. But no trace of 1t was
to be found. When the notes OF the
bugle broke the desert stiffness sound
ing tattoo. the monotonous quiet Of
the great dark expanse was broken as
If in answer to the bugle notes, by one
Of the most piercing yells that the ear
of man ever heard. Instantly every
mans hand went to his gun. The four
saddle horses that were picketed close
by were led into corral and saddled for
instant use, but the echoes from the
blood curdling scream died away
among the small ironwood shrubbery
that lined the rocky sides Of the uplift.
Jim Morrow and ! rode out to the
herd and found everything O. X. and
returned to camp. I doubled the mum.
Der of herders and placed picket line
around the camp. We went to blankets
with our buds on and our guns ready
for any emergency. How long I slept
know not but as Ziglers bugle sound
ed reveille we were all on our feet and
the cook soon had fires built, coffee
made and another morning meal was
ready on the far away plains
Before starting on the days journey
we decided to make a search for the
beast or whatever it was that made
the welkin ring with such hideous
yell the night previous. We elected
Irish Mike captain of the hunters and
with orders not to kill any animal I'm.
less to save ourselves, every man pro-
vided himself with lariat and started
out to capture something. we knew not
what.
We deployed along the brush GOV.
cred hillside with our lariats ready for
instant USE We beat up the iron
wood shrubbery. examined every crew
Use in the hillside and every soft spot
Of earth, disturbed or broken twig,
for some sign of animal life. but to no
avail BY common consent We came
to a halt. Irish Mike, a man named
Ellis, who was full fledged Johnny
Bull and myself, were together at the
foot of an overhanging rock and Mike
was showing US how dexterously he
could yield larat, when I suggested
to Zigler. who, stood just across the
ravine, that he blow his bugle. Put
ting the instrument to his lips he
sounded the cavalry charge. the same
that he had often sounded at the
head OF Early's cavalry at Winchester.
Irish Mike had secured one end OF his
lariat about his waist and was showing
us how successfully he could loop the
animal should the latter put in an ap-
pearance and in his maneuvers he had