The circle banner. [volume] (Circle, Mont.) 1914-1939, 1920-04-30

bOdyW
"Yes," I breathed, the effort OF
speaking an agony. HE lies directly
across my chest, a dead weight"
1t taxed her strength to the utmost,
but oh, the immediate relief With
the drawing of a full breath felt a
return of manhood, revival of life.
Another body pinned my limbs to the
floor, but this was more easily dis
posed of. Then / managed to lift my
self, but with the first attempt her
arm was about my shoulders.
mo; not alone-let me help you. Do
you really think you can stand? Why,
you are hurt, dear; this is a knife
wound in your side. 1t looks ugly. but
is not deep and bleeds no longer. Are
there other injuries?"
my head rings, and this left arm
appears paralyzed, from blows, no
doubt; there are spots on my body
which feel like burns. No, am not in
bad shape. Now let me stand alone |;
that's better. Good God, what a
scene I"
The fire. by this time blazing bright
| ly, gave us a full view of the entire
dismantled interior. The cabin was a
complete wreck. the roof practically
all gone and the upper logs of the side
walls either fallen within or dangling
in threat. Clearly enough it had been
the sudden plunge of heavy timbers
and the dislodgment of those upper
xr,hf a
of death. There were dead there
pierced by bullets and Drained by rife
, stocks, but the many had met their
ate under the avalanche of logs, and
amid the burning glare of exploding
powder.
Only between arched timbers and
sections of fallen roof could we move
at all, and beneath the network of
this ENHANCEMENT the majority of the
bodies lay. crushed and mangled. /
saw Kirby, free from his bonds, but
dead beneath heavy beam. His face
was toward us and the flicker of flame
revealed dark spot on his forehead
his life had never been crushed out
by that plunging timber which pinned
him there; it had been ended by bull
let. My eyes sought hers, in swift
memory of my last order, and she must
have read my thought.
"No," she said, mot that, Steven.
1t was the boy who shot him. Oh,
please, can we not go? There is light
already in the sky overhead-see. Take
me away from here-anywhere, out
side"
I'm a moment; all these surely are
dead, beyond our aid, and yet we
must not depart foodless. We know
not how far it still may be to Ottawa.
Wait, while search for the things we
need"
"Not alone I must be where I can
touch you. Try to understand. oh,
you do not know those hours I have
spent in agony-I have died thou
sand deaths since that sun went
down."
"You were conscious-all night
Iong?"
Conscious? Yes. and unhurt, yet
prisoned helpless beneath those two |
logs yonder, saved only by that over
turned bench. Elsie, poor thing, never
knew how death came, it was SO swift, |
but I lay there, within a foot of her
body unscratched. / could think only |
of you, Steven, but with never dream
that you lived. There were grcans at |
first and cries. Some Indians crept I
in through the door and dragged out
few who lived. But with the coming |
of darkness all sound ceased and such
silence was even more dreadful than
the calls for help. oh, cannot tell
you" and she chung to me, her voice
breaking. IL dared not move for
hours, and then, when l did try, found
could not; that / was held fast.
Only for knife in the hands of dead
savage, which l managed to secure,
l could never have freed myself. And
oh, the unspeakable horror Of creeping
in the darkness among those bodies.
I knew where the fireplace must be;
that there might be live Goals there
still. I had to have light; had TO
know if you were dead"
Don't think about it any more, dear
heart" I urged. eyes, we can go now
nothing else holds us here"
We crept out through the door, un-
derneath a mass Of debris, into the
gray of the dawn. Beyond a little
grove we found some horses browsing
In the deep grass; they were those
that had brought us from Yellow
Banks, and whinnied a greeting as we
1rew near. Two of them were fit TO
tide and the others followed. limping
llong behind.
A half mile up the vallew we came
o a beaten trail, running straight
lcross from bluff to bluff, and disap-
bearing into the prairie beyond, head
ng directly toward the sunrise. We
stopped and looked back for the first
ime. There on the side of the slope,
lnder the shade of the big tree, stood
he cabin. Only for the wreck of the
oof it spoke no message of the trag-
dy within. The suns rays gilded it,
nd the smoke from its chimney
eemed reckoning welcome. I
cached out and took her hand, and
~ IL, IL, Il;