Tombstone epitaph., 1917-05-06

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 The night was slowly giving place
 to the gray dawn. A faint light stole
 gradually through the dripping
 branches. David could see how yell
 low the faces of the wounded looked
 in the pale break of day. Baen, he
 knew, WAS wounded mortally, Barthol.
 ome" hurt.
 As he neared the center Of the
 camp, Robb's Mounted Rifles. 76 men,
 went by him with a rush. the gallop-
 ing hoofs thudding on the wet turf
 Here and there the smoldering einbers
 of the campfres blazed up again. Da-
 vid went on with the sickening work of the hospital corps.
 He was carrying a wounded man to the shelter of the wagons when little Jimmy Spencer. Captain Spencer's fourteen-year-old son. ran from the tents and clutched him by the sleeve, begging to be told if his father was
 unhurt. David answered the boy re- assurlngly; he had just seen the cap- tain cheering on his men. a bloody handkerchief tied about his head.
 When they went back to the right, Jimmy ran at David's side, refusing to stay behind.
 "Father!" he cried. and the soldier turned at the hail. He was about to warn the boy to go back when a bullet struck him in the hip and passed through both thighs; he tottered and fell.
 "Go back to the tent. son." he said. smiling. Your mother will need you if I don't go home"
 He drew the boy down and kissed him. For long minute he rested till his faintness passed; and then he be- gan calling to his men to fight on. Suddenly the voice ceased altogether as a ball tore Its way through his heart.
 With the flies shrill music In their ears, the Yellow Jackets held their ground, though MacAIahan, who took Spencer's place, fell dead. and Berry. his second lieutenant, fell also; held It for two hours In the face of the frenzled attack of the Indians.
 The men with the filters were very busy; not only here but back at the northwest angle. where the first attack had been made. At the opposite angle Jo Daviess was still chafing with im- patience. From behind log, sey- enty yards away. a dozen Indian sharpshooters were pouring a wicked lire into the mass of tethered horses or the three squadrons of dragons Parke's, Funk's and Beggs' companies. Twice Daviess had sent to Harrison for permission to charge and dislodge them. The stripling Croghan carried his third request Presently Croghan came back on the run. He was wild with delight.
 Tell Major Daviess,- Harrison had said. that he has heard my opinion twice; he may now use his own dis cretion."
 God he praised !" calculated Da- viess. Hastily he called for twenty volunteers. Quickly th~y threw them selves in the saddle. David saw them dash across the little space between the line and the log where the Indians were hidden and saw the spurts of red flame run along the top of the log For every flash of fire a trooper reeled in his saddle; at the front rode Da- viess. the idol of the backwoOdsmen. As the red warriors began to break and scatter from behind the log the last of their rifles rang out together. and the Kentuckian rose in his stir rups, clutched at his breast, and pitched headlong.
 As he saw Daviess fall, David drew a deep breath and began to run across the wet and slippery grass that lay between the camp and the ambuscad- ing woods beyond. The bullets ripped yiciously through the dripping weeds and tore into the frozen ground at his feet. He heard shouts of warn- Ing, like voices in a dream. behind him; but he paid no heed and reached | the hentuekian's side unhurt. He l placed his hand under Dayiess' shoul- | ders and the dead weight sickened | In. Three men from Parke's com p5ny ran out and joined hin. as he | sfSove to lift the body; with a des- perate heave they raised up the dying | man and staggered back toward the | line of riflemen.
 The men of Parke's and Beggs' dra- goons began to cheer as the four men laid their unconscious burden down in | safety. and the exultant yells spread Ike lire from end to end of the little plateau; for Daviess had been struck at the very moment when the attack of the savages had ceased, and from group to group of powder-grimed and riflemen ran the shouts of victory.
 The sky had scarcely Hghtened. The trees still dripped with rain. They had been fighting less than four hours; and the baffied Prophet, his incanta- lions futile, his power shattered, was lying through the woods. A hundred of his braves lay upon the sodden field; the rest had faded away like the mist that drifted through the forest.
 All day the men rested, caring for he wounded, burying the dead, repair ng their rifles. All day Daviess lay beneath the tree where they had ,laced him. his life slowly ebbing out; lad when at last his eyes closed, they 'uried him by the side of Thomas the virginian, his friend.