Tomahawk Trail

Auckland Star, Volume LXX, Issue 99, 29 April 1939, Page 8 (Supplement)

Tomahawk Trail

By Harry Williams

A Fine New Serial By An Old Favourite

U \ . V surp is cold," agreed Rod. 1 Wp so the mlder tho water gets. Soon we'll bo seei.." mountain trout.'' ° "Don't forget ton promised to show inc how to 1 n klo Viti." prompted Red. I , n '' ,l . lv ** ™*>' «* you M yv" , ' ll ■lf " nr,t n* hnl'd as it, looks ' 1 lii'lir is to move slowl v and Miiootlily. \e\cr make a ripple or *"1 1,11 your lingers in his P " • * i" got in ha\c patience - !'" - 1,1 '• 1 '>" t. you'll think it.'* worth i' " hen \on \ c loarni'd how. And tlie\ sure make good rating, right from the creek into tlip pan." Raring hack to thp ramp thpir no.strils Horr availed with a variety of ► a\oury smells, whetting to a kr'rnrr edge thpir already sharp appetite. As a staple furxl there was steaming porridge made from crushed Iml n" corn, while steak* of deer, elk and hear reflected the prowess of the hunter and the ahundanre of game. At his own fire Rod found Wyatt blowing on a bird to cool it. "•Tust. in time," observed the guide. "Another rouplr of minutes and I'd have finished mine and started on JOUTS.'' The morning meal over, thrre •tarted the daily routine of breaking camp. P'ires were carefully extinguished and the wagona loaded. At the first sign of day the horses had been let out to graze under guard. Now they were rounded up, and the teams in use rut out. His. own team harnessed, Wyatt walked round the circle, giving every outfit a swift inspection. No sore shoulders or weak gear ever got past those krrn ryes. All bring in ordrr, he hitrhrd his tram, swung on to the high seat, and took the lines # from ■Rod. The wagon creaked and rattled its way across the unmarked prairie, each outfit following in its turn behind till nothing remained of last, right's camp. save dead ashes ami hoof print* and the deep wheel track* leading on to the west. That, which had from the hill above deemed level proved. on closer acquaintance, to bo rolling meadow land cut by shal'. w drawn. Wyatt drove always with an eyo •.head, avoiding the steep sidings, and the not infrequent dry dams, broken and overgrown with buffalo -im-n the slaughter of their builders, the heaver. Looking back 11 nwn the line of r Ming, pitching "schooners," Hod likened them in hii> miml to a Str ug of white catrrpillars making their slow way across the land. The t|iii"f, curt voice of his companion broke in on his reflections.

' Rod. tflko a look at that." The l.ov t uriip,l and followed flic point ing A mile or more away tno ot ;i t iirhtly-t iiuborod rid ,r e >Ih>\viml tlio dark wall of the t""\»t. Watching closely lie saw a • lark object appeal-ill- and disappewr--11 1" intervalf. It tm<>\o<l on a course parallel with theirs, but was I ra\ ellin- east, not wei-t. It« a man," he stated positively. "There's just his ho«id and shoulders showing, hut I'll bet he'* riding. I lie movement utopped. "HeV seen m«." Wyatt remarked. ies. here he comes. - ' AN .vatt drew the team to a halt and waited. 'I'he dot -rew rapidly larger, taking the shape of a. mounted man, urjrincr hi* horse to its best. On he •Time making for the leading wagon. Ihe rose had been ridden far and hard. Ft. slithered to a spread-le«- e d shambling halt, Hanks heaving?*

' —_«-v - The rider wag iti no better case. Hw eyes were bloodshot, his face straine<l and weary. "Are you the leader of this outfit ?" abruptly he addressed Wyatt. "So, I'm the guide. Colonel Neill driving the grey team back there is the chief." "Well trouble's coming. There's a Sioux war party heading this way. They've been riglit on my trail since yesterday. They killed Trader Henrickson and looted the store. I was asleep in the barn loft and woke up to see the buildings ablaze and the old man being dragged out by a

1 crowd of yelling fiends. He broke • away and grabbed a stake, but he [ was stabbed from [behind by a young ( brave. I saddled my horse and gals loped through them. Took them by surprise. Thank God I eaw you or you'd have driven right into them." "Rod," commanded Wyatt. "Run b«ok aiul get the colonel. Tell him to hurry." The rider swung down stiffly and trailed the reins. "Gage is my name. I work among the Indians about here." Wyatt sprang to the ground and shook hands warmly. "Say, you must be the missionary from Judson. Well, I'm right glad to know you." He looked with interest at this hard-riding parson of whose courage and endurance he had heard more than once. "Any idea of how many of the varmints there are?" "I didn't see all of them," replied Gage, "but at a rough guess I should say three to four hundred. Of course there's only been a small party trailing me, and I haven't seen anything of them for several ljours." "The cunning devils won't be far back, though," opined Wyatt. "You know the saying, 'As the wounded elk so is the Sioux.'" As each wagon closed tip and halted the men jumped down, crowding round the guide. "What's the hold up, Caleb?" "There's a large war party headed (his way," he told them soberly. "The Colonel will be here in a minute and we'll decide what's to be done." "Indians!" (To be continued next week.)