afK ra3''WwaB *
THE
I
LC OF THE PLAINS
AUTHOR Or'MY LADY Or THE SOUTH : N\y \ . $ & & % : *
VHEM WILDERNESS WAS KiMGrEicErc i ' v X'v
IUUSTRATIOMS By DeAR 0BNMcz.viLi
CHAPTER I.
\
The Plainsman.
The man was riding just below the
summit of the ridge , occasionally up
lifting his head so as to gaze across
the crest , shading his eyes with one
hand , to thus better concentrate his
vision. Both horse and rider plainly
exhibited signs of weariness , but
every movement of the latter showed
ceaseless vigilance , his glance roam
ing the barren ridges , a brown Win
chester lying cocked across the saddle
pommel , his left hand taut on the
rein. Yet the horse he bestrode
scarcely required restraint , advancing
slowly , with head hanging low , and
only occasionally breaking into a
brief trot under the impetus of the
spur.
The rider was a man approaching
thirty , somewhat slender and Ions of
'limb ' , but possessing broad , squared
shoulders above a deep chest , sitting
the saddle easily in plainsman fash-
don , yet with an erectness of carriage
which suggested military training.
, The face under the wide brim of the
'weather-worn ' slouch hat was clean
shaven , browned by sun and wind ,
and strongly marked , the chin slight
ly prominent , the mouth firm , the gray
eyes full of character and daring. His
dress was that of rough service , plain
leather "chaps , " showing marks of
hard usage , a gray woolen shirt turn
ed low at the neck , with a kerchief
knotted loosely about the sinewy
; bronzed throat. At one hip dangled
the holster of a "forty-five , " on the
other hung a canvas-covered canteen.
iHis was figure and face to be noted
anywhere , a man from whom you
would expect both thought and action ,
and one who seemed to exactly fit
Into his wild environment.
Where he rode was the very west
ern extreme of the prairie country ,
billowed like the sea , and from off the
crest of its higher ridges , the wide
tevel sweep of the plains was visible ,
extending like a vast brown ocean to
the foothills of the
far-away moun
tains. Yet the 'actual commencement
of that drear , barren expanse was
I s' fully ten miles distant , while all
abont where he rode the conformation
was irregular , comprising narrow val
leys and swelling mounds , with here
and there a sharp ravine , riven from
the rock and invisible until one drew
up startled at its very brink. The
general trend of depression was un
doubtedly southward leading toward
the valley of the Arkansas , yet irregu
lar ridges occasionally cut across ,
adding to the confusion. The entire
surrounding landscape presented the
same aspect , with no special object
upon which the eye could rest for
guidance no tree , no upheaval of
rock , no peculiarity of summit , no
snake-like trail all about extended
the same dull , dead monotony of
l > rown , sun-baked hills , with slightly
greener depressions lying between.
Interspersed by patches of sand or the
white gleam of alkali. It was a
dreary , deserted land , parched under
the hot summer sun , brightened by no
vegetation , excepting sparse bunches
of buffalo grass or an occasional
stunted sage bush , and disclosing no
where the slightest sign of human
habitation.
The rising sun reddened the crest
of the hills , and the rider , halting his
willing horse , sat motionless , gazing
steadily into the southwest. Appar
ently he perceived nothing there un
usual , for he slowly turned his body
about in the saddle , sweeping his
eyes , inch by inch , along the line of
the horizon , until the entire circuit
had been completed. Then his com
pressed lips smiled slightly , his hand
unconsciously patting the horse's
neck.
"I reckon we're still alone , old girl , "
he said quietly , a bit of Southern
drawl in the voice. "We'll try for
the trail , and take it easy. "
He swung stiffly out of the saddle ,
and with reins dangling over his
shoulder , began the slower advance
on foot , the exhausted horse trailing
behind. His was not a situation in
which one could feel certain of safety ,
for any ridge might conceal the wary
foemcn he sought to avoid , yet he pro
ceeded now with renewed confidence.
It was the summer of 1868 , and the
place the very heart of the Indian
country , with every separate .tribe
ranging between the Yellowstone and
the Brazes , either restless or openly
on the war-path. Rumors of atrocities
were being retold the length and
breadth of the border , and every re
port drifting in to either fort or set
tlement only added to the alarm. For
once at least the Plains Indians had
discovered a common cause , tribal dif
ferences had been adjusted in war
against the white invaders , and Kio-
was , Comanches. Arapahoes , Chey-
ennes and Sioux had become welded
together in savage brotherhood. To
oppose them were the scattered and
unorganized settlers lining the more
eastern streams , guarded by small de
tachments of regular troops posted
here and there amid that broad wil
derness , scarcely within touch of each
other.
Everywhere beyond these lines of
patrol wandered roaming war parties ,
( Copyright , A. C. McClurg & Co. , 1910. )
Slender Spirals of Blue Smoke Were Visible.
attacking travelers on the trails , raid
ing exposed settlements , and occa
sionally venturing to try open battle
with the small squads of armed men.
In this stress of sudden emergency
every available soldier on active duty
civilians had been pressed into serv
ice , and hastily despatched to warn
exposed settlers , guide wagon trains ,
or carry despatches between outposts.
And thus our rider , Jack Keith , who
knew every foot of the plains lying
between the Republican and the Can
adian rivers , was one of these thus
suddenly requisitioned , merely be
cause he chanced to be discovered un
employed by the harassed commander
of a cantonment just without 'the en
virons of Carson City. Twenty min
utes later he was riding swiftly into
the northwest , bearing important
news to General Sheridan , commander
of the Department , who happened at
that moment to be at Fort Cairnes.
To Keith this had been merely anoth
er page in a career of adventure ; for
him to take his life in his hands had
long ago become an old story. He
had quietly performed the special
duty allotted him , watched a squad
ron of troopers trot forth down the
valley of the Republican , received the
hasty thanks of the peppery little gen
eral , and then , having nothing better
to do , traded his horse in at the gov
ernment corral for a fresh mount and
started back again for Carson City.
For the greater portion of two nights
and a day he had been in the saddle ,
but he was accustomed to this , for he
had driven more than one bunch of
longhorns up the Texas trail ; and as
he had slept three hours at Cairnes.
and as his nerves were like steel , the
thought of danger gave him slight
concern. He was thoroughly tired ,
and it rested him to get out of the
saddle , while the freshness of the
morning air was a tonic , the very
breath of which made him forgetful
of fatigue.
After all , this was indeed the very
sort of experience which appealed to
him , and always had this life of
peril in the open , under the stars and
the sky. He had constantly experi
enced it for so long now , eight years ,
as to make it seem merely natural.
While he ploughed steadily forward
through the shifting sand of the cou
lee , his thought drifted idly back over
those years , and sometimes he smiled ,
and occasionally frowned , as various
3ncidents returned to memory. It had
been a rough life , yet one not unusual
to those of his generation. Born of
excellent family in tidewater Virginia ,
his father a successful planter , his
mother had died while he was still in
early boyhood , and he had grown up
cut off from all womanly influence. He
had barely attained his majority , a
senior at William and Mary's College ,
when the Civil War came ; and one
month after Virginia cast in her lot
with the South , he became a sergeant
in a cavalry regiment commanded by
his father. He had enjoyed that life
and won his spurs , yet it had cost.
There was much not over-pleasant to
remember , and those strenuous years
of almost ceaseless fighting , of long
night marches , of swift , merciless
raiding , of lonely scouting within the
enemy's lines , of severe wounds ,
hardship and suffering , had left their
marks on both body and soul. His
father had fallen on the field at Antie-
tam , and left him utterly alone in the
world , but he had fought on grimly
to the end , until the last flag of the
Confederacy had been furled. By that
time , upon the collar of his tattered
gray jacket appeared the tarnished in
signia of a captain. The quick tears
dimmed his eyes even now as he re
called anew that final parting follow
ing Appomattox , the battle-worn faces
of his men , and his own painful jour
ney homeward , defeated , wounded and
penniless. It was no home when he
got there , only a heap of ashes and a
few weed-grown acres. No familiar
face greeted him ; not even a slave
was left.
He had honestly endeavored to re
main there , to face the future and
work it out alone ; he persuaded him
self to feel that this was his para
mount duty to the state , to the mem
ory of the dead. But those very years
j 1 of army life made such a task im-
possible ; the dull , dead monotony of
routine , the loneliness , the slowness
of results , became intolerable. As it
came to thousands of his comrades ,
the call of the West came to him , and
at last he yielded , and drifted toward
the frontier. The life there fascinat
ed him , drawing him deeper and deep
er into its swirling vortex. He be
came freighter , mail carrier , hunter ,
government scout , cowboy , foreman.
Once he had drifted into the moun
tains , and took a chance in the mines ,
but the wide plains called him back
once more to their desert loneliness.
What an utter waste it all seemed ,
now that he looked back upon it.
Eight years of fighting , hardship and
rough living , and what had they
brought him ? The reputation of a
hard rider , a daring player at cards ,
a quick shot , a scorner of danger , and
a bad man to fool with that was the
whole of a record hardly won. The
man's eyes hardened , his lips set firm
ly , as this truth came crushing home.
A pretty life story surely , one to be
proud of , and with probably no better
ending than an Indian bullet , or the
flash of a revolver in some barroom
fight.
The narrow valley along which he
was traveling suddenly changed Its
direction , compelling him to climb the
rise of the ridge. Slightly below the
summit he halted. In front extended
the wide expanse of the Arkansas
valley , a scene of splendor under the
golden rays of the sun , with vivid
contrast of colors , the gray of rocks ,
the yellow of sand , the brown of dis
tant hills , the green of vegetation ,
and the silver sheen of the stream
half hidden behind .the fringe of cottonwoods -
tonwoods lining its banks. This was
a sight Keith had often looked upon ,
but always with appreciation , and for
the moment his eyes swept across
from bluff to bluff without thought
except for its wild beauty. Then he
perceived something which instantly
startled him into attention yonder ,
close beside the river , just beyond
that ragged bunch of cottonwoods ,
slender spirals of blue smoke -were
visible. That would hardly be a camp
of freighters at this hour of the day ,
and besides , the Santa Fe trail along
here ran close in against the bluff ,
coming down to the river at the ford
two miles further west. No party of
plainsmen would ever venture to build
a fire in so exposed a spot , and no
small company would take the
chances of the trail. But surely that
appeared to be the flap of a canvas
wagon top a little to the right of the
smoke , yet all was so far away he
could not be certain. He stared in
that direction a long while , shading
his eyes with both hands , unable to
decide. There were three or four mov
ing black dots higher up the river , but
so far away he could not distinguish
whether men or animals. Only as out
lined against the yellow sand dunes
could he tell they were advancing
westward toward the ford.
Decidedly puzzled by all this , yet
determined to solve the mystery and
unwilling to remain hidden there un
til night , Keith led his horse along the
slant of the ridge , until he attained a
sharp break through the bluff leading
down into the valley. It was a rug
ged gash , nearly impassable , but a
half hour of toil won them the lower
prairie , the winding path preventing
the slightest view of what might be
meanwhile transpiring below. Once
safely out in the valley the river could
no longer be seen , while barely a
hundred yards away , winding along
like a great serpent , ran the deeply
rutted trail to Santa Fe. In neither
direction appeared any sign of human/
life. As near as he could determine
from those distant cottonwoods out
lined against the sky , for the smoke
spirals were too thin by then to be ob
served , the spot sought must be con
siderably to the right of where he had
emerged. With this idea in mind he
advanced cautiously , his every sense
alert , searching anxiously for fresh
signs of passage or evidence of a
wagon train having deserted the beat
en track , and turned south. The trail
itself , dustless and packed hard , re
vealed nothing , but some five hundred
yards beyond the ravine he discovered
what he sought here two wagons had
turned sharply to the left , their
wheels cutting deeply enough into the
prairie sod to show them heavily
laden. With the experience of the
border he was able to determine that
these wagons were drawn by mules ,
two span of each , their small hoofs
clearly defined on the turf , and that
they were being driven rapidly , on a
sharp trot as they turned , and then ,
a hundred feet further , at a slashing
gallop. Just outside their trail ap
peared the marks of a galloping horse.
A few rods farther along Keith came
to a confused blur of pony tracks
sweeping in from the east , and the
whole story of the chase was revealed
as though he had witnessed it with his
own eyes. They must have been
crazy , or else impelled by some grave
necessity , to venture along this trail
in so small a party. And they were
traveling west west ! Keith drew a
deep breath , and swore to himself ,
"Of all the blame fools ! "
He perceived the picture in all Its
grewsome details the two mule-
drawn wagons moving slowly along
the trail in the early morning ; the
band of hostile Indians suddenly
swooping out from some obscure hid
ing place in the bluffs ; the discovery
of their presence ; the desperate effort
at escape ; the swerving from the
open trail in vain hope of reaching
the river and finding protection un
derneath its banks ; the frightened
mules galloping wildly , lashed into a
frenzy by the man on horseback ; the
pounding of the ponies' hoofs , punc
tuated by the exultant yells of the
pursuers. Again he swore :
"Of all the blame fools ! "
( TO BE CONTINUED. )
Manuscript of Thirteenth Century.
While reading a French book of
the sixteenth century in the univer
sity library , St. Andrews , the German
lecturer , Dr. Schaaffs , noticed some
fragments of an old French poem
which the binder had pasted on back
and covers of the book.
After loosening them he removed
the glue and out of the four pieces ob
tained composed two larger pieces ,
parts of two leaves of a manuscript
written in a beautiful and clear type
in two columns of thirty-nine lines
each , 144 in all , with red and blue in
itials. The names occurring in the
text leave no doubt that the frag
ments contain parts of the old French
chason "Le Roman de Girard d
Viane , " and from the language ancl
the script it appears that the manu
script was written between 1250 and
1300.
AH He Knew.
"Tell me about' Spain , romantic :
Spain. "
"Well , " said the motorist , "there are
a few bad places us you come down
the mountains , but in the main the
roads are pretty eood. "
Childish Wisdom.
. Novr and then the seemingly casual
remarks of the little ones plumb im
pressive spiritual and psychological
depths. Little Jean , for instance , list
ened to the conversation of two adults
with silent interest , until one of the
ladies , speaking of an unsatisfactory
photograph , remarked that few moth
ers were pleased with portraits of
their children , for the reason that the
children did not look to others as they
did to the loving maternal eye.
Said Jean eagerly :
"No , and children don't look at oth
er people as they look at their moth
ers , cither ! "
The Man in Front.
"Who is 'at funny man standin' up
In front of the band wavin' a stick ? "
"That , my dear , is the conductor. "
"Does he make the music go ? "
"Yes , my child.1
"Well , then , why don't they call him
the motorman ? " Judge.
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"You say I'm a liar , sir ? "
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