OUT IN ORE ON.

Wellington Independent, Volume XXII, Issue 2612, 21 December 1867, Page 6

OUT IN ORE ON.

[From All the Yeah Round.] {Concluded.) \ 1 The screams, passionate outcries, and sorrowful forebodings that now resounded among us, made a perfect Babel of confusion. The women were loud in their wrath and fear, the men angry and perplexed, the children querulous and hungry. We had verylittle food— a few pounds of sorry flour and worse biscuit, and a small quantity of meat. What was to be done ? Could we return on foot to Fort Boise ? • The strong men might do so, but the feeble, the young, and the sick, must perish on the way. ' Big Simon Daris took »o part in the idle clamor of the rest. Ho sidled quietly up to mo. '"Britisher," said he, "I don't think you're no chicken-hearted chap, an' so I'll tell you truth. I'm kinder skeared." 'I stared at this confession, for my .burly companion was a person of tried courage. ' " Kinder skeared," repeated Davis, dropping his voice, "and that not so much because the rasca! Smith has skedaddled with the teams, as for what I see, jest now, when I took a turn round the outside of camp. Mister, I seed the print of a mocassincd foot stamped into a bit of soft mould, clear as if 'twas the American eagle in the sealwax on a lawyer's letter.' 1 " 'What of that ?" said I, surprised. " Our soouudrol guides wore mocassins, and '."Stranger, I ain't a blind mole," interrupted Davis: "our guides war Osago Injuns, warn't they ? and strapping redskins as all their nation ? Their moccassins war soled with buffler parfleehe, and all stitched up with porkypinc quills and beads, smart as a squaw could work 'em. This foot war smalt; the leather mout have been deer, or mout have been pronghorn, but 'tvvar plain and hairy, rawhide, I guess.. I tracked it up, and I found the hoofmarks of an unshod horse, down by some bushes. Shoshonies hey' been scouting nigh us, mister.' ' " Shoshoniea P" ' "' Ay, that's what they call themselves ; the cruel Snake Injuns. That war a Snake's mocassin, I tell 'ei\ Some cussed war party's hard by, and their loping spies have seen the doctor rampooso, and know our helpless condition. May 1 never," lie suddenly exclaimed, " but here the red beggars come !" ' Far ofF on the prairie appeared something liko a herd of wild horses galloping towards us, for no riders were visible : a circumstance which drew a grim smile from the tall farmer. " • " 'Tis a sale trick, that,' said be, bitterly ; " every darned brave of tho lot is hangiug' at his nag's flank, clingm' by tho mane like a bat to a bough, rind with jest one foot hanging over tho mustang's withers. We'll see enough of their painted taces afore we finish.' ' Then, uplifting his voice, ho thundered out the alarm call : '" To arms, men, to arms ! Don't jo sco the Injuns ? Quick, Western-men, with your rifles, and recklect every grain of powder's preciouser nor gold dust, short oH aramynition as we are. So — no use screeehin', 3 r ou gals and women (for a shrill cry had broken from tho females of tho part}'), wo must fight for our scalps." ' After the first moment of panic, ninetenths of the men, and even several of tho women, showed no lack of sense and courage. All the. availablo weapons were brought out and got ready, tho waggons were dragged and pushed until they formed a circular fortification, proof at any rate against the first rush of the mounted foe. The childreu were placed under shelter, and an active lad among tho teamsters went out and caught the grazing horse, just as it throw up ita • head with a frightened air and was about to gallop off. ' You must not expect from me a detailed account of what followed. I only remember what seems a hideous nightmure of frightful

painted faces, brandished weapons, shields, fances, and tomahawks, the trampling and rearing of horses, the hurtling of arrows, and the hisa of rifle-balls. I remomber the dreadful cry of the Indians, repeated again and again as they renewed their charge, and a sense of something liko disappointment on my part that this horrid war-whoop was not more horrid, since it had been to me a subject of curiosity from childhood. And I recollect the oaths and cheers of our men, the shrieks and prayers of our women, the dual, emoke, flashes, and volleys, and that we fought hard, and drove off the yelling painted pack, again and again. 'We beat them, for the time at least. Seven grim bodies, smeared with paint and charcoal dust, lay stark upon the prairie, and five wounded horses were rolling over in .the death-struggle before the red robbera fell back. On our side we had many slight wounds, but only one death. A poor child, a little fair-haired German girl, had been pierced through the neck by a barbed arrow that went through the tilfc of the waggon , where she lay trembling beside her mother. The wound would have been mortal, even had surgical aid been at hand ; the poor thing bled to death, while her parents almost raved in their entreaties to all present to save her. • The Indians had not done with us yet. They hovered about like vultures, greedy for prey. Warned by their loss, they did not again try to storm our camp, but harassed us with endless stratagems and alarms, while awaiting the sure progress of starvation to i educe us. We had to fight for the water of the creek, and it cost us two lives before we remained masters of the deep stream, fringed by bushes, near which we had halted. We kept a vigilant watch by night, and our feverish slumbers were sure to be broken by the war-whoop. Several were badly hurt by the arrows that hailed on us every day ; but the worst infliction was that of hunger. Our scanty food waned. The children cried for nourishment ; but even they had to be severely stinted, and men and women grew pule, gaunt, and hollow-eyed, till our camp was as a camp of spectres. And still the hideous, merciless savages thirsted for our blood and our plunder, and beset us like wolves. They were in no want. They j huuted, nnd brought in plenty of game, and j would tauntingly show us venison steaks and wild turkeys, impaled on the points of their lances, and then, with ferocious gestures, would draw the scalping-knife around their 1 own uplifted hair. They were squat and low of stature, almost dwarfish in comparison with the tall tribes to tho eastward ; but these accursed snakes showed no lack of strength or hardihood. And we knew too well how fearful it would be to fall alive into their hands. 'It was settled, as the sole last chance, that two messengers should mount the two remaining horses, and try to reach Fort Boise and obtain a rescue. It was a desperato service, for the mounted Indians beset i the path, while the captain of tho fort and his ailing garrison seemed little likely to render prompt help. But it was a chance, and one not to be slighted. The food was all but gone. Tho powder was nearly spent. There was no other hope. The messengers were ohosen. It was needful that they should be good horsemn. It was also needful that they should be light weights. The only good i riders, in fact, besides big Simon Davis, were myself, and Triptolemus Nutkius, a little \ withered Yankee jockey who had ridden many a match in the North, and who had taken a fancy to make his fortune in Columbia. It was agreed that Trip JSFutkins, as tho lightest, should mount the spotted niustaug, aud I the black. • Then it was that Davis gently twitched me b} r the sleeve, and addressed me with a timid hesitation quite uncommon to him : i ' " Britisher, we're gone coons. Even if you git through safe, help won't hardly find ■ us livm*. Twenty eliarges left, and no more, us I'm a sinner. I don't care overmuch for myself. The Injuns will fiud my old bones tough piclcia'. But the wornou— well ! 'twill bo*soon over. Look here, sir, I'm that anxious about my little Laff — the child — I can't but ax a favor* Will ye iafco him with you ? I know he'll hamper you some, but he's brave for a lillle chap of six ; he'll hold fast and never cry. His weight's trifliu' ; but if you hey to light, I don't disguise as Laff will hamper you. Still, do save him, and tho very last word old Simon Davis says shall be, (rod bless and reward you stranger !• ' There were tears in tho f'afchor's bold eyes, and his voice shook in a manner very foivign to its usual manly tone. But the brave fellow was quite unselfish in lu3 fears, which were wholly for tho child. He had forgotten himself. I wruug his muscular hand. ' " Trust the boy to mo," said I ; " that is, if you really think it best." • " Harkyo," he continued, " nothing for nothing. Snowball's your own from this minit. I'ou'vo always consaitod hcvin' that hoss, and win or lose, you shall keep him in. remembrance of Simon Davis." 'It was no easy matter to coax little Laff Davis into a quiet* consent to the flight. The liLfclo fellow was my very good friend ; but he had got an inkling of what was afoot, and ho clung sobbiug to his giant father's neck, doclaring that he would not go unless " daddy went too." It was a painful parting. The tears ran down the farmer's. sun-browned checks, but he dashed them away with tho back of his rough hand, and lifted the boy on to the saddle-bow, bidding him hold tight, and be good, aud do as Mr King told him. ' JSfutkins was already in the saddle, surrounded by anxious wild-eyed women, holding up their children, and beseeching him to take some little Ellen or Gertrude along with him to the fort aud safety. But tho jockey was deaf to their cries, not from harduess of heart, but sheer conviction that such a burden must lead to capture and destruction, lie was past middle nge, aud quite weak, though a superb horseman, and altogether unlit to carry a restless screaming child through so terrible a ride us lay before us. As for myself, I took off' my' cravat and tied little Lafayette fast to my belt, looked to my knife and pistol (the riEo I had abandoned), and asked Nulkins if he wore ready. 1 " Iteady, mister I" 1 Out we went, with a rush, from between the sheltering waggons, which had as yet screened our proceedings from the wild besiegers. Tho Indians were gathered around their fires, about half a mile off, their horses tethered and grazing, every horse with the hide saddle on his back, and a lance stuck in the turf beside him. We got out unseen, and headed for Fort Boise. ' " Steady, mister," said Nutkins, who was pale but collected ; " spare the hosses all we can. The niggers don't see us. We've got a goodish start; so let's canter quiet.". ' On we went at an easy hand-gallop, and perhaps we might have got off' unpercoived, had not some of those left behind given way to their feelings in a most luckless cheer of encouragement. • " Cuss the noise, they'll be after us, now," said the jockey, peering over his shoulder j aud the words were hardly uttered before a

yell, loud and fierce enough for the throats of a drove of wolves, was heard, and we saw the Indians leaping on horseback and dashing madly in pursuit of U3. Fifty wild riders were in our rear. The fort was far ahead. It was a terribb race for life and death fchafc ensued. Nutkins proved a valuable companion; His experience suggested what I should never have thought of. '"Keep a tight rein," he cried; "hold your beast together, Britisher. Beat 'em by jockeyship. Do, Mr King, keep a turn of speed in your hoss, and we'll beat them rowdies yefc, for see how they flog and jag the reins, and a'niost leap off in their hurry. The blood-thirsty mnffsl They'll blow their beasts afore they go a brace of miles." | Instinctively I felt that the man was right. Still, it was an awful sensation to feel that the Indians were gaining on us, to look back and see their excited gestures, as they shook their spears and rattled their shields, while every now and then they beat their open. hands upon their mouths as they uttered the hideous war whoop. At last they got within, a hundred yards, and an arrow whistled past ÜB. ' Slip ahead, mister ! No hurry, bufc hustle on quicker !" cried Nutkins, and we heard the yells of the disappointed savages as we forged ahead. We got clean out of sight of our pursuers, and saw nothing of them for a long time. Nutkins was triumphant, but I entertained strong doubts as to the chase being really over. And, indeed, more than an hour later, as we forded a creek, we heard the whoop of our barbarous foes, and twenty arrows were discharged at us, while the hoof strokes resounded thick and fast on the turf of the prarie. We were in no light danger for the next half hour. The savages pressed us hard. Nutkins was slightly hurt by two shafts, a third arrow struck into the fleshy park of my right arm, causing a slight throb of pain but doing no severe injury, while another grazed Lafayette's cheek, just draw- • ing blood. _ The gallant little fellow behaved very well. He never, sobbed or screamed, but held fast to my belt with his small hands, and scarcely winced when the arrow touched him. We had hard work, swimming two rivers before we were free from bur savage foes, but at last we saw them rein up, and heard their farewell yell of vexation. ' We had yefc a rough and long ride to the fort ; we had missed the direct route, and had to shape our course by bearings ; but afe last, after twenty hours in the saddle, we came in sight of the moss-covered stockade and shingled roofs of Fort Boise*. By this time even Snowball was in a sad state, covered with mud and foam, and with drooping head and quivering flanks. As for the other horse, he was so utterly done up. that he fell about a mile from the outpost, and Nutkias had to walk the rest of the way* Both the jockey and I were very weary and worn, bufc I was glad to find that fatigue had proved a kind nurse, and that for some hours the child, quite exhausted, had been asleep. ' Our arrival created a great sensation, and when the lonely garrison of that little place heard that Christian men and women in sore distress were calling on them for help, they responded nobly to the summons. Captain Watkins, a grizzled, disappointed old officer, but of sterling stuff, as events proved, was at first much perplexed. '" What on earth are we to do, doctor?" said he to the regimental, surgeon; "dufc of ninety men of all arms, there are but twenty i fit for duty. There are horses enough, if we take the waggon teams on their way back to Fort Leavenworth, bufc the men ! Xet, I'll go, if it's with a corporal's guard !" \ 'The surgeon considered awhile, then tapped his forehead briskly. '"Our men are moped here," said he, " and nerves are queer things. This is a call might move the dead. I'll go to the infirmary and tell the lads there are women and children in danger a few miles off, beset by Indians, and you shall see what follows." ' And wonderful to tell, out of seventy invalids, fifty-five volunteered for instant service. Pale, gaunt, and tottering, but with bright eyes and faces elate with courage, the . bold fellows came up one by one to report themselves as " fit for duty" to the captain. I felt my own ej'cs moisten as I looked upon, the simple chivalry of these poor soldiers, for the most parfc foreigners in American pay, who staggered from their very sick-beds to save those they had perhaps never exchanged a word with. 'Many who volunteered were too weak for such a ride, bub at last a force of about fifty well armed men set off on horseback. They were led by Captain Watkins and guided by myself, the jockey being left behind, as too exhausted for more toil. Little Laff Davia was left at the fort, iv charge of a good humored Scotchwoman, the wife of the paysergeant. 'Much time was r.eces3arily lost; our march waa not so rapid ns we could havo wished, for the wat^on horses v.ero heavy animals, and the infantry soldiers not very j expert riders. Our progress was therefore slow.' ' Bufc yau got there in time, eh ?' exclaimed Torn. Kawlinson, excitedly ; ' you sot things to rights, and gave tho Indians a lesson, surely ?' .' No, Tom, we wero too late. Too late by many hours. No living soul was loft to tell tho tale, bufc tho ashes of the waggons were nearly cold, and we guessed that, the ammunition being spent, the camp had been forcibly entered immediately on the return of the party that had chased us. Doubtless the Indians struck quickly, lest a rescuing force should arrive to wrest the prey from them. The horrid work was complete. Everything portable had been carried off. The waggons had been set on fire, and the people — happiest; those that died fighting, like poor Simon Davis, whose bod} 1 , dreadfully disfigured, we found in the centre of a trampled patch of ground, marked by gory footsteps and torn turf. Yes, all had perished, some in fight, and some by torture, I fear, for the bodies that lay around, stripped and gashed by the knife, ht\d boon partially consumed by fire. Women, children, strong and weak, old and young, the butchers had spared none, and the mutilated corpses alonowere left on the blackened turf. Tom ! it sickens me to think of it, and I saw the bronzed soldiers' cheeks blanch, as they gazed on the .hideous sight, and heard many a muttered vow of vengeance — vows generally well Icepfc in those stem frontier wars. But the Indians were beyond reach of pursuit for the time. They had carried off their own dead. . . ' And now, Tom, I see the Whittingtoa mile-stone, and we shall soon part company, so I must be brief. Little Laff Davis was adopted by Captain Wafckins, who took a great fancy to him,' is giving him a* good education at Chicago, and promises to", send him to the military school at Wesfl Point, there to qualify him for a commission. Snowball, his lather's gift, bore me faithlully for years; I kopthim through my struggles in Columbia, where"*l didwell, andßavodenoughto enter into the mercantile firm in which I i am now a partner. And when I returned to* Europe I could not/bring myself, to abandon: the faithful creature, but brought him hbma?

at no small cost, so you may easily guess, my friend, that Snowball is. not-for sale.' • But the knave of a doctor — Ignotus Smith —was he ever hanged P 1 asked Tom, eagerly. 'JSTerer. But Nemesis overtook him in another form. I was in San Francisco, on my way home, when the event happened. Dr I. F. Smith fought a duel in a tavern, " over a handkerchief," with a man whom he had cheated at cards. As usual, one pistol was loaded, and one empty, and the doctor put faith in a confederate, who acted as second to the antagonist, and was to give Ignofns the loaded weapon. But by some bunding or treachery the biter was bit. Dr I. F. Smith received the wrong pistol, was shot through the heart, and died like a dog, , without warning or repentauco.' *