AN OUTLAW'S YARN.

Bay of Plenty Times, Volume XV, Issue 2394, 28 February 1889, Page 4

AN OUTLAW'S YARN.

My wife has just asked me whether this is a true yarn, or if I am only trying to make up a good yarn for print. I cannot tell myself. Sometimes I think it isn't true. Then why do I write it? Well I've tried to write fiction founded on facts of wild, rough life, but I guess it all goes into the waste baskets, and so an idea has come to me to tell a yarn about events that, if they didn't happen to me, happened to someone whom I knew so well that he might pass for me. In the winter of '67 my partner 1 Sandy' and \ were lyang near Fort — , hard up and dead broke. ' We'd been set afoot by the Sioux Indians down on the Yellowstone river, and had tramped it to this place, where, by dint of doing odd jobs, chopping firewood for the saloons, and riding a bucker once in a while, we managed to keep body and soul together. A trader allowed us to sleep in his warehouse, ho our hotel bill was not very extensive, but the nights were bitterly cold, and things were looking mighty black for us that winter. One evening Sandy brought m good news. One of the small traders bad agreed to fit us out for a wolfing trip to last till spring. This meant that as a spec he would give us a couple of Indian ponies, some provisions and ammunition and strychnine. In return we would have to trade all out skiim to him, he repaying himself for bis outlay and giving us the remainder. Weil, we started and made out for one of the small creeks that ran into the Missouri. Here we built »J rough fog-shanty and commenced operations. Buffaloes were plenty, so we killed one here and there for bait and poisoned them. This is done by mixing strychnine with the blood of the freshlykilled animal, then slashing the carcase and rubbing the poisoned blood into the slashes. We'd been there a month and had done very well, having about 200 skins, when one day on returning from examining our baits we found only a •cooking shanty — not a skin, not a bit of food — nothing left. We'd gone our rounds on foot, so that not even our horses were left. The Indians bad made a clean sweep. The two of us stood looking at one another in dismay, for a glum outlook was ahead of us. The Indians had not even left us a blanket ! After a long consultation we determined to follow down the river, about sixty miles, to where we knew we'd find some houses, the characters of the owners we knew as well ! Horee-thieves^uDd desperadoes were about the only class of men who lived along this part of the Missouri at the time I write of — but ' any port in a storm.' The weather was frightful, and we must hare food and shelter, and that as joon as possible. Well, after two days of roughing, such as I don't care to think of, we got there ; roughly, but heartily, we were welcomed, once our condition was realised, though very suspicious glances were cast on us at first, the one terror of these men being detectives after vigilante. After a month or so with those men things looked brighter again, when one Sunday afternoon (keep this in mind, on Christian reader!) a gang of halfdrunken roustabouts, of probably a worse character even than our poets, calling themselves ' Vigilantes,' kind of cleared the atmosphere of this cowboy settlement. I, myself, saw the bodies of three we knew on limbs of trees, as. Sandy and I crawled out of the patch of brushwood, where we bad been chopping firewood, thanking our stars that we'd not ' gone to church,' or, in other words, 'stayed in camp.' Pushing further down the river to some other quarter of the same calibre, we told what had happened and were made at home ; ' Dick,' a big, reckless, but good natured fellow, sharing his shanty and food with us at once. 'I ain't got no sofey, boys, and only two blankets, but I guess I got more deerskins than I want under me. So we'll share 'era and I'll scare up another blanket from some of the boys.' 1 suppose the fact of our being down on our luck and a little sick of our present way of life, combined with the company of men, each of whom had a (ince set on his head, did not tend to heighten our ideas of honesty. Anyhow, when one night five of our new friends, headeu by Dick, walked into the shanty with an air that told that there was something on foot, and after some beating about the bush, said they wanted us in a trip to hold up some moi jey, we did not want much persuasion to make us agree. Moralise as you will, let anyone put himself into our shoes, and the chances are he would have needed no more persuasion than we did, especially with the consciousness that our heads would be well riddled if these men suspected we were squeamish about it. The thing was this : Some Indian payments had been delayed the previous fall, and a large amount of money was to pass through in a few days to pay off troops and Indians. A strong escort would likely be in charge, bat w© had<dto take oar chances of this. Seven of us started that night, rode hard, with but abort stops until dark the following night, when we came upon a well-opened trail ; riding down tkia we^ reached some timber, where we made ourselves as comfortable as we could j tfcerai y-jm little or no snow, which was so much the better for us, but it was bitterly cold. One man kept &a outlook for the party *U tto tim*

[ The next evening at dark neither escort nor money had appeared, and we were giving up hope of seeing them that night, when a low, sharp whistle, combined with the distant galloping of a horse, made us grab our rifles and jump into our saddles. It would be a cavalry escort, so foot work would not do. Our sentry came running in, saying : ' There's one man on horseback coming along. What shall we do ?' 'Let him pass/ whispered our leader, Dick. 'The rest ain't far behind. This one probably is going ahead to find a camping ground. They'll camp by the springs, I guess, about three miles from here. Now then boys, down to the edge of the timber, but don't fire a shot unless you can't help it. No matter what comes of it, don't be taken alive.' I couldn't help saying ; but what if there are too many ?' 'The more the better,' said Dickj * they'll be the more careless.' We got to the edge of the timber, well concealed by underbrush. Each man had a piece of rag, with holes for his eyes, tied over his face. In about five minutes the rapid galloping of a large body of horses made my heart begin to jump ; a queer nervous feeling came over me. 'By curses ! here's a crowd of them,' whispered someone. 'Shut up/ said Dick, f or I'll put a hole through you. But don't move until you see me ride forward.' 1 The horsemen came up and passed —I should say about twenty ; but Dick never moved. 1 What in thunder— 1 came from another of us. 4 Shut up !, again f narled Dick, and the clicking of his rifle said more than words. We listened eagerly. I could dis* tinctly hear wheels coming along. ' Now then, ready boys !' and we knew the time had come. Just before passing in front of us we could see five or six soldiers riding along right behind a military ambulance or covered waggon. I'd no time to see anything, for Dick, followed by the whole party, dashed into the road. My place was at the horte's head. Dick and one other had sprung one to each side of the waggon ; the rest were in front of the astounded soldiers, covering them with their revolvers. A few hurried words. There was no noise,Jand things seemed to be all our own way, when ' What is all this ?' followed by a sharp report, came from the ambulance, and Dick rolled from his seat. Of what followed I have no clear idea. Shots and oaths rang 'out. A queer feeling in one of my shoulders. I saw two or three men on the ground — whether wounded or worse I could not tell. When Dick, who was again in his saddle, shouted out : — ' Boys, get ! The big lot's coming down on us.' The soldiers, who had passed us, had how turned back, and were firing as they rode. A few parting shots into the waggon. I never knew whether one man or more were inside, but whoever it was they saved the money, and we were over the prairie hotly pursued by the soldiers. 'Go it, boys', said Dick. 'Their horses are too tired to keep up long, but don't bunch up so. Scatter out more/ His words were true, for very soon we were alone, and lucky it was so, for Dick soon fell from his horse again. We picked him up and found that be was badly wounded. For myself I had a bullet through my shoulder. Another had an ugly wound on his leg. Dick's horse was losing blood freely from a gash in the neck. But though he said nothing, Dick was the worst wounded. I could not bear a much longer ride. After a while we had to hold him up in his saddle, but we could not stop. No hospital for us —we were outlaws. About three in the morning ~we drew rein on the bank of the river, and were going to cross, but Dick said : — 'Holdup, here, boys j I'm done. Put me under the ice. I don't want to let them know who they've got/ Before we could say a word a pistol shot rang out sharp and clear. j Dick had left us. !