A Tale of Red Indian Warfe.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume XLVII, Issue 8004, 15 December 1905, Page 4

A Tale of Red Indian Warfe.

low Arnold of the Ranks wo Promotion The w«t iu « flaming sea. A few fty elouds flouted suspended like gilded crt—ianUstic, motionless. Athwart the cum* ed brilliancy beyond a prairie grouse winl Its solitary way. The somber lines of fort McLane chatd to scintillating splendor. The whole 4d around flamed with the crimson and goof ■unset, Jost within the stockade gates stood lalenant Cantrell intently scanning the hotn with a field-glass. A scarcely discerile speck near the sky-line rose and fell th rhjmetio motion. Slowly it evolved ilf into a horse and rider—the loping swief horse, the rider lying lot on the ank'a neck. The man in uniform adjusted his blqi* lar for a nearer view. I "By Jove?" he ejaculated softly, "I n> derwhat— Hello 1" The approaching horseman displayeoe regulation service nniforsi, with a bidstained rag around his head. His idety and appearance established beyond a dbt thai some important issue was at stake, iting at desperate chances many men re taking somewhere out in that illimiile greatness of God's country. For weeks past disquieting rumors id reached the fort Tin Sioux tribes re secretly mustering their forces for the trpaih. When the chieftains gave the siftl, the flower of their nation, 10,000 br&veincited to an almost fanatical frensy by nifly war dances, would descend upon the tpaily settled districts. The light was fast fading in the wesaa the trooper pulled up at the gate, and vng heavily from his badly heaving horse. " I must see Colonel Aldridge at oncers panted, in a hoarse tone, to Lieutent Chantrell, his face gleaming grey asiis alkali-dnsteduniform. "There'sthe qce to pay along the Little Snake. Ijor Dunn's command is sortonnded two tea north of Big Bock Ford by a big bum of bucks under Painted Hotse. Theboyire fighting the fight of their lives, but Oodtlp them after the son rises to-morrow." UajorOunn, commanding a detachint of regulars, bad attempted to form a Action with troops stationed at Fort Dfis. He had been intercepted by a war part of Sioux near the Little Smke, and force to entrench himself in a depression neartie river bank. That same nigbt two rentiers had attempted to break throughlie cordon surrounding them. One sucnlrd with a bullet wound in the head; the tier suffered the death of a hero, coverings companion's retreat. The Sioux had taken to the warpath 1 Almost instantly the fort biased into su'en activity. The third batalliun received ong to prepare for service. Every man |< w what it meant—a long, bard ride, w| a good stiff fight at the end of i(. The piile soon became a conjested mass of moviiigjnn and ixiut. Colonel Aldridge was pacing iropitttlly up and down bis quarter?. Sudden! he tnrued to in orderly. " Have Captain lacturner report at once." A moment later the officer saluted. 1 " Hare you a man in your cunimrxl," asked Colonel Aldridge, tersely, "nl is not afraid of death? " ! " My men are American soldier?, r," came the quick response. ■ " You misundeiMnnd me. On the fi« of battle every soldier takes his chances, jtvo you a man who is willing to accepkne chance in a hundred ? It is a dangeus mission—he must go only as a volunteci' " lean name a number, sir." i " But one in whom you hare the stitcst confidence, who trill not fail at the cnial moment. He must reach those belengired men by daybreak. The relief ciinnotlossibly arrive there until two hours |cr. Tbof« two hoors may mean a matter qlife or deatb. He shall have the fastest Ik>< o( the garrison, and must cut his way to ijor Dunn if bis d< ad body is ti c cnlj m<s?at he delivers. You understand. ilnve ycituch a man ? "

•• I'd stake my life on Arnold, sir. f«s'd Cut his way through Jjeli {or hie flag." 14 Send for hint at once." Bob Aino'd hnd just finished lighting bis saddleghths nhis caplaln acqicd bim with orde»* to r?i»rt to the colon at hetdqufttiu . As the yo:;irp trooper turned towards Officers' Bow,'" the captain gazed afte{lhc manly, stalwnit figure with a eeitain fe.ing of regret. " Jt't a shame to sacrifice him on sth ft mission," he muttered. Angrily. 44 But as brave as th*-y make 'cni, and he's one t the boys heart find ?oul. 'J he chances Hide's goin.tr to his dwili. And there's the 4 #elle of Old M<Lan*. ,M The •' IVlle of Old MeLane " was sully a mo«t imp-riant factor. Three years Wore Boh Arnold had l>e«n a sophomore 11 an Eastern Colhgc and the idolized loacrof his da**. One day came news of anions financial difficulty that invoked his fatir's fortune. It left hut one alternative opt to hfm—to leave college and ataudon all hpes of a future professional caieer. It «s ft sad Mow to his ambition—.a renouncelvnt of a)i that appealed to him. in life—buinot once did hp falter in his decision. Heleft for the West with the God speed ofhia college-mates ringing in bis ears, and e?ntually joined the army. About thesamelmo bis company was transfeired to Fort Mcloie. Colonel Aldridge was placed in commad of the garrison. He was a veteran of the'ivil War, and an able officer; bat best in thcyes of Arnold, be woe the father of Dorothy The "Belleof Old McLane "the t>o> affectionately described her, and woe tohim who denied her deference. She wa: the prettiest girl in prairie-land, as demnreAnd dainty as ft Western bine-bell, And may an officer's heart beat faster At sight oflier. But it soon became evident to all that she favored one—Arnold of the ranks. One summer night under tbe mysti<?pe)l of the harvest-moon he confessed hisluve for her. It was tbe old, old story, ever lew, for tbe woman he loved loved him. loth realised that until promotion came to him their cause was hopeless. But they rere young, and youth is ever hopeful. Tbe steel-gray eyes of Colonel Aldidge regarded bim searchingly as be apprisedhim of tbe desperate chances that thecommfcion would involve. 44 1 do not consider it your duty to accpt," finished the colonel, in the cold, even .ones of the old-school warrior. " You may <aoose as you will. If you return, your promotion is assured." "I am ready) sir," answered Anold, briefly. The moon had already risen as be M his restive pony to tbe gate. She was the detest of the cottal, with the blood of five generations of IndiAn racers in her veins. Fe had not mounted. A lover's intuition tol him some one would be waiting. . Love &ldom era. A woman came to him from out 4 tbe shadow, with a sob on her lips. " Dot/t go, Bob," she entreated, passionately. * Tbe men say you'll never get through alive. Say that you'll not go, Bob. To think olvou •>ut there alone on the prairie, woumed, dead perhAps—Ah, God, God I—think—faink what it means to a woman 1" "Would you hAve tbe gArrison tbiriime a coward, Dorothy?" he questioned, teiderly. V Ah, no you wouldn't, little girl. And

whenlcorae back, we're going to be happy you and I. "Yhia will swan promotion lot I me, sweetheart," he added, gayly, " and it's Mrs. Arnold I'll be kissing soon." "But, Bob—suppose " " You mustn't think of that, Bweetheart, for if you do it will surely bring bad dreams." " I shall not sleep to-night. I shall only think of you, Bob— out there alone." He kissed her, and was gone. All night long his pony pounded the noor of the prairie with unflagging hoofbeats. On, on, with the moon-shadow of a horse and rider behind, and the face of a woman taking image ahead—a woman dearer than life to him. On, on, with the sibilant rush of the night wind past his ears whispering of death in the distance. Twice he rested bis pony, for the pace was beyond endurance. As the dull gray streaks of morning dawned in the east, the muffled reports ot carbines came to him. To his right the Little Snake trailed the yellowish trend of the serpent. Finally, he came to a rise in the prairie, and, dismounting, crept cautiously to its crest. At the base of the opposite elope, near the river bank, lay the beleaguered troops. On every side the Sioux had flung their cordon in one unbroken line. How he made the fearful dash down the slope into the very midst of the savage host below remains only as some horrible reality —how the very daring of his intentions held the redskins inert and spellbound for the moment, and aided by the resistless momentum of his pony, carried him through the opposing line, with his " Colt's " spitting its deathbark into the ring of fiendish, painted faces. Then how a hundred rifles spurted flame, and under that terrible fusilade his pony shuddered, and fell, and he was flung headlong to earth, badly hit. It was First Sergeant Burns who leaped his barrier of horseflesh and dragged back the recumbent trooper, with only a furrowed cheek in payment of his bravery. As Arnold sank to unconsciousness beside him, he canght the whispered name of a woman (alter on his lips. - " He's touched," said the sergeant, grimly, flirting the blood from his wounded cheek. "In the shonlder?" questioned a patefaced lad, late of the East, glancing at the blood-stained uniform. " Naw I" granted the sergeant; " it's his heart." Some distance back came the relief, riding as troops never rode before. When Arnold came to life again, a half hour later, the fight was nearing its end. His message carried bnt little hope—the reinforcements could not possibly arrive in time. Ammunition was running low, and some of the men had ceased firing, reserving their last few charges for the final onslaught. At Inst it came. The Sioux chieftian was seen to raise himself on his pony and give utterance to the war-hoop as a signal for the death-charge. From every side cams the exultant echo—the cougar-scream of savage hate, keyed to anticipution of the blood (east. A maddening whiil of ponies followed, the circle narrowed, the ehmpe was on! Sergeant Burns swept the distant crest with a last look of infinite longing. If only " By the eternal God I" A trcopcr appeared silhouetted against the sky-line—another- the Slavs and Stripes—the battalion I Above the din of buttle came the call of the bugle- God's own melody to those beleaguered men and the soul of the bugler was in his muric. " Oh, say, can you see, by the dawn's early light, What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming? Whose broad stripes and bright Etars, through the perilous fight, O'er Ihe ramparts we watched were so gallantly streaming. Ami the rockets' red glare, the bombs bursting in air, Gate proof through the night that our ring was still there." On they swept, a solid phalanx of ihvincibie blue. A little while later, Lieutenant-Colonel

Mai?h. commanding the reinforcements from Fort McLane, tired, but triumphant, con* gralnlufcd Major Dnnn. The following day a body of horsemen rod# into Fort MclJlnc. Among their number wnfclfob Arnold, with a bandaged shoulder and his arm in h sling. '/he " Belle ol Old McLane " met him at ! the gate. Thenars slatted at sight of his 1 wounds, and then she laughed out of Bbeer happiness at his return. " Oh, Bob!" was all she could say, in the fullness of her joy. A trooper standing near, with All defer* ence in his manner lifted her up to him on horseback.* " I am so glad that you've come back," she whispered, softly, as she nestled close to hi? uninjured shoulder. His wounds had censed to throb. The pain was gone. It was all wine and ecstacy in Ins veins now. He felt her heart beat against his breast in nnieon with his own. His whole being seemed tuned to the melody of a thousand songs. Her breath swept his face, light and fragrant as the brush of a rose across his cheek. The light in her eyes shone with love and happiness. He was her lover and hero—Arnold of the Qinks. —" Farm and Fireside."

, "Blue Beard." The 6ve hundredth anniversaoy of the birth of " Blue Beard " took place on Oct. 30. " Blue Beard " was a real man, and the to-called fairy story is true in all its essential details. " Blue Beard " wna Baron Giles de Bais, an enormously rich Breton nobleman, who fought with distinction under the banner of Jeanne d'Arc and was Mar sbal of France at the age of twenty-five. After the war plunged into the wildest dissipation. His great fortune was largely increased by the dower of bis first wife, Catherine do Tbouars. His favourite diversion was murdering babies and dabbling in their blood. The church cauEed his arrest and trial. He was condemned and was hanged at Nantes, but was converted in prison, and his.last wordß were to implore the forgiveness of those families he had decimated by murder. Mr. Chamberlain's Mannerisms. The mannerisms of great men are always a lubject of intense interest. Mr. Chamberlain seems to have acquired a new one during his tour in the country. It consists in pulling out his check slightly when he iB interrupted, as if he were blowing away the person who dared to break the continuity of his speech. It is not at all pretty, any more than that older trick of gesture, drawing a forefinger rapidly across his nose when he has made a telling point. There is no doubt as to the 6ourcc whence he acquired this mannerism ; it was the only peculiarity of gesticulation which Mr. Gladstone permitted himself. Height of Waves, Many careful computations have been made of the heights to which ocean waves may rise in furious storms. The Atlantic has been amazingly tempest tossed, but when the captain of an ocean liner reports that his vessel safelj outrode salty skyscrapers, soaring a hundred and twenty feet above the surface of the average level of the billows, he compel? one to gasp for bres