T*he Denison Review
i- E. F. TUCKER, Publisher,
THE OLD HOME CREEK.
If I could have my way
You bet I'd have, by glng!
Things fixed so ev'ry holiday
"Would come around in Spring!
I'd like to simply bunch 'em
All of 'em in one week,
An' go and spend 'em fishin'
Down along the old home creek!
To cut an alder limb,
A springy one and long.
An' git a woven seagrass line,
A long an' thin an' strong,
An" ketch me some grasshoppers.
Or some blue bottle flies.
An' cast along the ol' home creek
Where hemlock shadders lies.
Oh, Jest ter fix 'em up,
My holidays, you know.
Bo they 'ud bunch 'an fill my cup
Till it would overflow.
Kor all the rest the long, long year
I'd make my Sundays do.
Olve me my holidays in spring
When buds are bu'stin' thoo.
I want to trot away
Down thoo the orchard grass,
'.! Au' hear the sassy bluejays squall
a An' mock the. catbird's sass
An' whistle like a mockin' bird
An' mock the tinklin' brook
An* Jest set bubblin' full o* song
The while I bait my hook.
—J. M. Lewis, in Houston Post.
of the Sioux
By GEN. CHARLES KINO.
Copyright, 1KB, by Th« Hobfcrt Company,
In the hush of the wintry night,
under a leaden sky, with snowflakes
falling thick and fast and mantling
the hills in fleecy white, Webb's col
umn had halted among the sturdy
pines, the men exchanging muttered,
low-toned query and comment, the
horses standing with bowed heads,
.occasionally pawing the soft cover
let and sniffing curiously at this film
iy barrier to the bunch grass they
sought in vain. They had feasted
together, these comrade troopers
and chargers ere the sun went down
—the men on abundant rations of
agency bacon, flour and brown sugar,
found with Jj2®"k tailed deer and
mountain sh£f§~W abundance in the
captured village, and eked out by
supplies from the pack train—the
horses on big "blankets" of oats set
before them by sympathetic friends
and masters. Then when the skies
were fairly dark, Webb had ordered
little fires lighted all along the bank
•of the stream, leaving the men of
Hay's and Billings' troops to keep
them blazing through the long night
watches to create the impression
among the lurking Sioux that the
whole force was still there, guard
ing the big village it had captured in
the early afternoon, and then, in
eilence, the troopers had saddled and
jogged away into the heart of the
hills, close on the heels of their
There had been little time to look
over the captures. The main interest
of both officers and men,' of course,
centered in Mr. Hay, who was found
in one of the tepees, prostrate from
.illness and half frantic from fever
f. and strong mental excitement. He
liad later tidings from Frayne, it
seems, than had his rescuers. He
could assure them of the health and
Rafety of their wives and little, ones,
but would not tell them what was
amiss in his own household. One
significant question he asked: Did
^.o^any of tliem know this new Maj.
Pf Flint? No? Well, God help Flint,
|P if ever he, Hay got hold of him.
"He's delirious," whispered Webb,
A1 and rode away in that conviction,
leaving him to Kay and Billings.
Three miles out, on the tortuous
9 trail of the pursued, the column
halted and dismounted among the
spines. Then there was a brief confer
ence, and the word "Mount" was
^•whispered along the Beecher squad
ron, while Blake's men stood fast.
With a parting clasp of the hand
Webb and "Legs" had returned to
the head of their respective com
mands, "Legs" and his fellows to
follow steadily the Indian trail
:j through the twisting ravines of the
foothills Webb to make an all
-night forced march, in wide detour
and determined effort, to head off the
escaping warriors before they could
reach the rocky fastnesses back of
(Bear Cliff. Webb's chief scout "Bat,
'^chosen by Gen. Crook himself, had
been a captive among the Sioux
l&through long years of his boyhood,
:ffand knew the Big Horn Range as
S.--,,' V'Webb did the banks of the Wabash.
^//''"••"They can stand off a thousand sol
^""diers," said the guide, "if once they
**t into the rocks. They'd have
there first off only there was
no water. Now there's plenty snow."
So Blake's instructions were to fol
low them without pushing, to let
them feel they were being pursued,
y«t by no means to hasten them, and,
If the general's favorite scout proved
to be all he promised as guide and
pathfinder, Webb might reasonably
fiope by dint of hard night riding, to
first at the tryst at break of day.
Then they would have the retreating
Sioux, hampered by their few wound
ed and certain prisoners whom they
prized, hemmed between rocky
heights on every side, and sturdy
borscmen front and rear.
It was eight by the watch at the
parting of the ways. It was 8:30
jvbeo Blake retook the trail, with
Sergeants Schreiber and Winsor, the
latter borrowed from Ray, far in the
van. Even had the ground been hard
and stony these keen-eyed soldier
scouts could have followed the signs
almost as unerringly as the Indians,
for each had had long years of ex
perience all over the west but, de
spite the steadily falling snow, the
traces of hoofs and, for a time, of
travois poles could be readily seen
and followed in the dim gray light of
the blanketed skies. Somewhere
aloft, above the film of cloud, the sil
very moon was shining, and that was
illumination more than enough for
men of their years on the trail.
For over an hour, Blake followed
the windings of a ravine that grew
closer and steeper as it burrowed
into the hills. Old game trails are as
good as turnpikes in the eyes of the
plainsman. It was when the ravine
began to split into branches that the
problem might have puzzled them,
had not the white fleece lain two
inches deep on the level when "Lo"
made his dash to escape. Now the
rough edges of the original impres
sion were merely ronnded over by
the new fallen snow. The hollows
and xuts and depressions led on from
one deep cleft into another, and by
midnight Blake felt sure the quarry
could be but a few miles ahead and
Bear Cliff barely five hours march
away. So, noiselessly, the signal
"Halt!" went rearward down the
long, dark, sinuous column of twos,
and every man slipped out of saddle,
some of them stamping, so numb
were their feet. With every mile the
air had grown keener and colder.
They were glad when th« next word
whispered was, "Lead on!" instead of
By this time they were far up
among the pine-fringed heights, with
the broad valley of the Hig Horn
lying outspread to the west, invisible
as the stars above, and neither by
ringing shot nor winged arrow had
the leaders known the faintest
check. It seemed as though the
Indians, in their desperate effort to
carry off the most important or val
ued of their charges, were bending
all their energies to expediting the
retreat. Time enough to turn on the
pursuers when once the rocks had
closed about them—when the wound
ed were safe in the fastnesses and
the pursuers far from supports. But
at the foot of a steep ascent, the two
leading scouts—rival sergeants of
rival troops, but devoted friends for
nearly twenty years—were seen by
the next in column, a single corporal
followed them at thirty yards dis
tance, to halt and begin poking at
"HE FOUND SCHREIBER CROUCH
ING AT THE FOOT OF A TREE GAZ
ING WARILY FORWARD."
some dark object by the wayside.
Then they pushed on again. A dead
pony, under a quarter inch coverlet
of snow wafi what met the eyes of
the silently trudging command as it
followed. The higli-peaked wooden
saddle tree was still "cinched" to the
stiffening carcass. Either the In
dians were pushed for time or over
stocked with saddlery. Presently
there came a low whistle from the
military "middleman" between the
scouts and a little advance guard
"ltun ahead," growled the sergf.ant
commanding to his boy trumpeter.
"Give me your reins." And, leaving
his horse, the youngster stumbled
along up the winding trail got his
message jind waited. "Give this to
the captain," was the word sent back
by Schreiber, and "this" was a ir ltten
of Indian tanned buckskin, soft and
warm, if unsightly, a mitten too
small for a warrior's hand, if ever
warrior deigned to wear one—a mit
ten the captain examined curiously,
as he ploughed ahead of his main
body, and then turned to his subal
tern with a grin on his face:
"Beauty draws us with a single
hair," said he, "and can't shake us
even when she gives us the mitten.
Ross," he added, after a moment's
thought, "remember this. With this
gang there are two or three sub
chiefs that we should get, alive or
dead, but the chief end of man, so
far as "K" Troop's concerned, is
to capture that girl, unharmed."
And just at dawn, so gray and wan
and pallid it could hardly be told
from the pale moonlight of the ear
lier hours, the dark, snake-like col
umn was halted again, nine miles
further in among the wooded heights.
With Bear Cliff still out of range and
sight, something had stopped the
scouts, and Blake was needed at the
front. He found Scnreiber crouching
at the foot of a tree, gazing warily
forward along a southward-sloping
face of the mountain that was
sparsely covered with tall, straight
pines, and that faded into mist a few
hundred yarda away. The trail—the
main trail, that is—seemed to go
straight away eastward, and, for a
short distance, downward through a
hollow or depression while, up the I
mountain side to the left, the north,
following the spur or shoulder, there
were signs of hoof tracks, half sheet
ed by the new-fallen snow, nnd
through this fresh, fleecy mantlet
ploughed the trooper boots in rude,
insistent pursuit. The sergeant's
horses were held by a third soldier
a few yards back behind the spur,
for Winsor was "side scouting" up
The snowfall had ceased for a time.
The light was growing broader every
moment, and presently a soft whistle
sounded somewhere up the steep, and
Schreiber answered. "He wants us,
sir," was all he said, and in five min
utes they had found him, sprawled on
his stomach on a projecting ledge,
and pointing southeastward, where,
boldly outlined against the gray of
the morning sky, a black and beetling
precipice towered from the mist
wreathed pines at its base. Bear Cliff
beyond a doubt!
"How far, sergeant?" asked the
captain, never too reliant on his pow
ers of judging distance.
"Five miles, sir, at least yet some
three or four Indians have turned off
here and gone—somewhere up there."
And, rolling half over, Winsor pointed
again toward a wooded bluff, perhaps
300 feet higher and half a mile away.
"That's probably the best lookout
this side of the cliff itself!" he con
tinued, in explanation, as he saw the
puzzled look on the captain's face.
"From there, likely, they can see
the trail over the divide—the one Lit
tle Bat is leading the major, and, if
they've made any time at all, the
squadron should be at Bear Cliff
They were crawling to him by this
time, Blake and Schreiber, among the
stunted cedars that grew thickly
along the rocky ledge. Winsor, flat
again on his stomach, sprawled like
a squirrel close to the brink. Every
moment as the skies grew brighter
the panorama before them became
more extensive, a glorious sweep of
highland scenery, of boldly tossing
ridges east and south and west—the
slopes all mantled, the trees all
tipped, with nature's ermine, and
studded now with myriad gems, tak
ing fire at the first touch of the day
god's messenger, as the mighty king
himself burst his halo of circling
cloud and came peering over the low
curtain far at the eastward horizon.
Chill and darkness and shrouding va
por vanished all in a breath as he
rose, dominant over countless leagues
of wild, unbroken, yet magnificent
"Worth every hour of watch and
mile of climb!" muttered Blake. "But
it's Indians, not scenery, we're after.
What., are we here for, Winsor?" and
narrowly ue eycu iiay l%ifous rignt"
"If the major got there first, sir—
and I believe he did—they have to
send the prisoners and wounded back
"Then we've got 'em!" broke in
Schreiber, low-toned, but exultant.
"Look, sir," he added, as he pointed
along the range. "They are signaling
From the wooded height 1,000 yards
away, curious little puffs of smoke,
one following another, were sailing
straight for the zenith, and Blake,
screwing his field glasses to the fo
cus, swept with them the mountain
side toward the five-mile distant
cliff, and presently the muscles about
his mouth began to twitch—sure sign
with Blake of gathering excitement.
"You're right, sergeant," he pres
ently spoke, repressing the desire to
shout, and striving, lest Winsor
should be moved to invidious compari
sons, to seem as nonchalent as Billy
Ray himself. "They're coming back
already." Then down the mountain
side he dove to plan and prepare ap
propriate welcome, leaving Winsor
and the glasses to keep double-pow
ered watch on the situation.
Six-fifty of a glorious, keen Novem
ber morning, and 60 troopers of the
old regiment were distributed along
a spur that crossed, almost at right
angles, the line of the Indian trail.
Sixty fur-capped, rougli-coated fel
lows, with their short brown carbines
in hand, crouching behind rocks and
fallen trees, keeping close to cover
and warned to utter silence. Behind
them, 200 yards away, their horses
were huddled under charge of their
disgusted guards, envious of their fel
lows at the front, and cursing hard
their luck in counting off as number
four. Schreiber had just come slid
ing, stumbling down from Winsor's
perch to say that they could hear
faint sound of sharp volleying far out
to the eastward, where the warriors,
evidently, were trying to "stand off"
Webb's skirmish line until the travois
with the wounded and the escort of
the possible prisoners should succeed
in getting back out of harm's way and
taking surer and higher trail into the
thick of the wilderness back of Bear
Cliff. "Some of 'em must come in
sight here in a minute, sir," panted
the veteran sergeant. "We could see
them plainly up there—a mule litter
and four travois, and there must be
a dozen in saddle."
A dozen there were, for along the
line of crouching men went sudden
thrill of excitement. Shoulders be
gan to heave nervous thumbs bore
down on the heavy carbine hammers,
and there was sound of irrepressible
stir and murmur. Out among the
pines, 500 yards away two mounted
Indians popped suddenly into view,
two others speedily followed, their
well-nigh exhausted ponies feebly
shaking their shaggy, protesting
heads as their riders plied the sting
ing quirt or jabbed with cruel lance
only in a painful jog trot could they
zig zag through the trees. Then
came two warriors, leading the pony
of a crippled comrade. "Don't fire—
don't harm them! Fall back from the
trail there and let them io. They'll
halt the moment they ^ee our tracks!
Get 'em alive, if possible!" were
Blake's rapid orders, for his eyes were
eagerly fixed on other objects beyond
these dejected leaders—upon stum
bling mules, lashed fore and aft be
tween long, spliced saplings and bear
ing thus the rude litter—Hay's pet
wheelers turned to hospital use. An
Indian boy, mounted, led the foremost
mule another watched the second
while, on each side of the occupant
of the Sioux palanquin, jogged a
blanketed rider on jaded pony. Here
was a personage of ^consequence—
luckier much than these others fol
lowing, dragged along on travois
whose trailing poles came jolting over
stone or hummock along the rugged
path. It was on these that Blake's
glittering eyes were fastened.
"Pounce on the leaders, you that are
nearest!" he ordered, in low, telling
tones, the men at his left then
turned to Schreiber, crouching close
beside him, the fringe of his buck
skin hunting shirt quivering over his
bounding heart. "There's the prize
I want," he muttered low. "Whatever
you do, let no shot reach that litter.
Charge with me the moment the lead
ers yell. You men to the right," he
added, slightly raising his voice, "be
leady to jump with me. Don't shoot
cnybody that doesn't show fight. Nab
everything in sight."
"Whoo-oop!" All in a second the
mountain woke, the welkin rang, to
a yell of warning from the lips of the
leading Sioux. All in a second they
whirled their ponies about and darted
back. All in that second Blake and
his nearmost sprang to their feet
and flung themselevs forward
straight for the startled convoy. In
vain the few warriors bravely rallied
about their foremost wounded. The
unwieldy litter could not turn about
the frantic mules, crazed by the in
stant pandemonium of shouts and
shots—the onward rush of charging
men—the awful screams of a brace
of squaws, broke from their lead
ing reins crashed with their lit
ter against the trees, hurling
the luckless occupant to earth. Back
drove the unhit warriors before the
dash of the cheering line. Down went
first one pony, then a second, in his
bloody tracks. One after another, lit
ter, travois, wounded and prisoner,
was clutched and seized by stalwart
hands, and Blake, panting not a lit
tle, found himself bending staring
over the prostrate form flung from
the splintered wreck of the litter, a
form writhing in pain that forced no
sound whatever from between grimly
clinching teeth, yet that baffled effort,
almost superb, to rise and battle
still—a form magnificent in its pro
portions, yet helpless through
wounds and weakness. Not the form
Blake thought to see, of shrinking,
i- -t i-i.
the furious warrior who thrice had
dared him on the open field—the red
brave well-known by sight and deed
within the moon now waning, but,
only within the day gone by, revealed
to him as the renegade Ralph Mo
reau—Eagle Wing of the Ogallala
Where then was Nanette?
[To Be Continued.]
AN ANCIENT JURY.
One That Was Sent to Prliion and
Bound Over to Be of Good
In olden times, vfrhen a jury in Eng
land remained Impervious to the
judge's gentle mode of persuasion,
fine and imprisonment were resorted
to. The jury that acquitted Sir
Nicholas Trockmorton was condemn
ed to eight months' Imprisonment in
addition to the jiayment of a large
sum of money. In tlu of Queen
Elizabeth a jury, h^ng reduced a
prisoner's alleged crime of murder
to that of manslaughter, was at once
sent to prison and bound over in a
large sum to be of good behavior.
Penalties were likewise inflicted upon
the innocent wife and children of the
offending jurymen. Even now it is
believed by some legal authorities
that a judge has the right to inflict
a fine upon a juryman refusing to
obey his directions. Such power is
however, not exercised, except in the
case of a juror absenting himself
without a cause. Of this practice
there is the following story:
A judge had fined a juryman for
non-attendance. On hearing that he
had been unable to be present be
cause of his wife's funeral the judge,
whose wife was said to be not of a
particularly gentle nature, exclaim
ed: "That was a good excuse indeed.
I wish we all had the same!"
Two Good Highlander!.
During the Crimean war a Scotch
officer was appointed to command a
regiment recruited in Glasgow, Scot
land, and, being a Highlander, took a
vote of the regiment to determine
whether the men favored the adoption
of the Highland costume.
In due time the regimental orderly
apepared before the colonel with the
result of the vote.
"Well, orderly," said he, "how
many of the men favored the adop
tion of the Highland plaids?"
"Only two, sir."
"Only two! Well, I ftin glad I have
at least two good Highlanders in my
regiment. Who are they?"
"Corporal Flaherty and Private
Mulligan, sir."—Philadelphia Ledger.
Would Salt 111m Better.
"Did you ever hear of such nerve?"
"What now, Jennie?"
"Why, I gave the ^pnitor one of
your old smoking jackets and what
do you think he said?"
"Said he didn't smoke, but he
chewed, and wanted to know if I
could send him a chewing jacket."—
Chicago Daily News.
Are the Blessings of Liberty Safe
By HON. WHITELAW REID,
Editor of the New York Trifrune
RE we really taking a safe course to preserve the blessings
ia of liberty for ourselves and our posterity when we liesi
tate now to sift out of our immigration, not merely the®*#
pauper and anarchist and the poor Chinaman, but, with lessSjlf
in vi us is in at on or of he no to us I
sirable elements Or when we hesitate to exclude per- ,:
emptorily from the suffrage, national, state or municipal,.gl§I
any newcoyier who cannot read the laws before he votes for§|sf
lawmakers, and who docs not pay taxes himself when he. as
votes taxes upon others?
Are we finding that safe course when we hold public meetings, for
an immigrant detained and about to be deported, to protest against the- .*5^
enforcement of the law, in his case, since the poor man was merely un- pis®
der contract for preaching anarchy, or, to give an explanation lately
made by some of his friends, was merely an anarchist under contract
to visit the trades unions while we have not one word of protest against
the arrest and deportation of a laborer when he is guilty, the wretch,
of coming under a contract to earn an honest living by honest toil?"
Avr«i)' witli the honest workman, we exclaim his stay might help to
free white labor and to weaken the padlocks on the close shops but as
for the preacher of anarchy, how dare you in this free country inter
fere with his liberty of opinion?
Are we taking that safe course to preserve the blessings of liberty
for ourselves and our posterity, if, after fighting four years to free negro,
labor at the south, we now, under this new guidance, permit organiza
tions unknown to the law to enslave white labor in every building and
manufacturing center at the north? Are we following that safe course
if a workman, however intelligent or industrious or competent and de
serving, is deprived of the right to earn his living on terms mutually
satisfactory to himself and his employer Are we following that safe
course if an honest laborer can be driven from his employment andv
denied work anywhere at his trade because he obeyed the call of the'
governor of his state, on the militia of the state, to maintain order in®
You have seen no occasion, your fathers have seen no occasion,
in which in the end the sober second thought of the American peopled
did not assert itself. You will not doubt that somehow, in some time,.
these dangers too will be successfully met. But neither will you doubt
that if we will refuse to sift our immigration, if we still refuse to re
quire from newcomers some intelligence and some character and thrift
before we ask them to help us conduct our own government if we
neglect to hinder the plans of politicians for gathering in new
in the American union from the Caribbean sea, from the Cfupese sea,,
or from Polynesia if we refuse to protect individual initiative and fail
to keep white labor free at home if we persist in making this land an:
asylum for the anarchists and outcasts from every other civilized land
in the world, the common sewer for Christendom—if we will persist ini
all this, then, to the imperfect vision of the human eye, the path of our
unexampled progress seems likely some Hay to lead into hopSt€s£r ?n
emerits._.anH in an impwee, from which advance is improb—
The Spirit of the Inquisition^?'
By JOHN TURNER,
English Anarchist Leader.
HE spirit of the inquisition is by no means dead. Every
steamship company sailing to United States ports now"
asks intending passengers, among other questions: ''Arefpi|
you an anarchist?" If anyone replies: "Yes," they will re-|l-||
fuse to carry him, as he can be denied admission. It is?' 5
very easy to say "No," however, and since opinions are un-i
known unless expressed, the law is quite inoperative forf|iiS
those who are not publicly known, if they can be dishonestl|lljpj
and deny it. Neither does this law prevent people with
sinister intentions from entering. But it does create a.
most vicious precedent. If this goes unchallenged, how long before
other opinions will be placed on the list? One by one, all those who
do not comply with the desire of the party in power will be denied ad
mission—at least those who are honest enough to avow these inter
dicted ideas. It is the beginning of a new political tyranny, in which,
America, with its democratic institutions, can give points to monarchi
What is the meaning of this reaction? Whenever privilege is in
fear it falls back upon force to sustain it. Old weapons, discarded when.
the social relations are such that no one is afraid of their being dis
cussed, or of new ideas being propounded, are refurbished anew, to
uphold institutions growing morally decrepit. This desire for repres- S
sion takes the place of political change for the better. From aliens it
will extend to citizens. It is the eternal struggle of the old against
the new, in which the new, beaten again and again, ultimately tri
umphs, only, however, to be replaced in its turn. This reaction has
been remarked by some of the best scientific thinkers. They see that
civilization is not progressing as it ought.
Have Americans so little faith in the principles of liberty they
profess to love? If so, her institutions have become rotten before
they are ripe. Personally I cannot credit it, and though I may be de
ported, I shall look for her return to more robust principles by abrogat
ing this insidious interference wtih freedom of opinion.
THE SPIRIT OF JAPAN
By KOGORO TAKAHIRA,
Japanese Minister to the United States.
ITH us one of the most earnest desires we cherish is that
neighboring peoples, peoples in some sense kindred to usr
shall enjoy the same advantages we enjoy, and shall adapt
in the same manner those elements of western civilization
which stand for the preservation of national entity and!
the promotion of national happiness.
This is a spirit in a way like the New England spirit, and I as
sure you in all sincerity and earnestness that it is the spirit which ac
tuates my countrymen and our government in those momentous affairs
that are now holding the stage in the far east, not a spirit of self-ag
grandizement or of self-exploitation, but an assured and sincere con
viction that we have found peace, plenty and security from adapting t*
our use the civilization of the west, so our neighbors will find the strong*
est safeguard against aggression, lawlessness and retrogression, anA
the amplest guarantee of happiness, comfort and progress by following
our example, which i$, I venture to say, in accord with the principle*
of New England and of die whole United States of America.
-v JV» 1
xml | txt