The Nebraskan. (Lincoln, Neb.) 1892-1899, November 01, 1892, Page 21, Image 9

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exchanged. It was not because they did not
love eaeh other as before, but because of a
nameless fear concerning the one who never
had returned. They feared to speak, be
cause their tongues might give utterance to
the thoughts and fears that were surging
within them, and this would but add to their
Fisher came frequently, but his receptions
were so cold that he could take little comfort
from these visits. One day at the fort, when
a number of the boys who were members of
the scouting part' were talking of the adven
ture, one casuallv referred to the tall and
handsome 'oung frontiersman who had
joined them in pursuit of the Indians, and
'wondered at the strange providence that had
caused his death, while not a man of the
regulars had been killed or even wounded.
It was true, he remarked, that this young
man was always in the lead, the bravest of
the brave, and he believed that fully a third
of the Indians who were killed or wounded
fell from the effects of shots from his unerring
aim. But still they marveled at the ways of
Frovidence. The orderly and men had
been so pleased with his bravvry and soldier
ly bearing that they had given him a soldier's
burial on the spot where he had fallen. But
as he was nothing but a civilian, no record
or report 01 his death had been made, and
the incident had been soon forgotten.
But this was Fisher's position. He lovecl
Moync Jackson as well as his little soul
could love anything, and he thought if she
but knew that Dale was dead and could not
come back to her anr more, that she might
soften a little towards him. He had percep
tion enough to see that he was not looked
upon with favor as long as Dale was believ
ed to be alive. So he rode over to the ranch
without delay and meeting the old man at
the gate said :
"Mr. Jackson, it seems to me that you and
your daughter are waiting a long time for
someone you will never see again. She
need not be continually giving me the cold
shoulder, thinking that Dale will come back,
for I tell you he won't. He's dead. He
was killed by the Indians that time he went
with the soldiers."
When FishtM had delivered this message
to the father, which he was too cowardly to
give to the daughter, he turned his horse
about and rode away, as he had not the
courage to witness her grief over the death
of her favored suitor. He chuckled a bit to
himself to think how fortune had smiled on
him and rode rapidly back to the fort.
The old man caught at the gate post to
steady himself as the truth of the announce
ment flashed through his brain, and when
Fisher had gone he tottered into the house
and sank helplessly into a chair.
"Moyne," he feebly called, and when the
pale, sad faced girl came to learn his wants
he said : "Do ye remember the day I start
ed to go to the fort and ye would go along?
Do ye recollect that I tried to talk to ye of
yer lovers, them two, Dale and Fisher?
Well, well, Oh, Moyne, I can't help it,
though I know it'll kill ye. Harry '11 never
come back. He's dead ; killed by the Injuns
that day he went with the soldiers," and the
old man bowed his head in his hands and
wept as if his heart was broken.
Every bit of color left her cheeks ; she
stood motionless for a time, looking into
space, and trying to realize the extent of the
blow that had befallen her. She .covered
her face with her apron and turned to the
bed where his blanket lay. She kissed it
again and again, until, overcome with emo
tion, she sank to rest and then into sleep, as
she had on that memorable day when the
Indians had murdered her brothers.
She never spoke of Dale nor of his death.
These were themes now too sacred for con
versation, even with her father. She never
rose from the bed. All the days; that follow
ed she lay with this blanket about her, think
ing, thinking, thinking, and of him who was
gone, never to return. Her father watched
over her with a tenderness that had been
foreign to him of late. He watched and
waited for returning life and strength, but