Rensselaer Republican, Volume 26, Number 16, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 14 December 1893 — THE YOUNGSTER [ARTICLE]

THE YOUNGSTER

New York Sun. , He had come out to us as a second lieutenant—a young and beardless graduate from West Point —and the ragged old troopers who had been fighting Indians for three years smiled in contempt. Pity was mingled with contempt, however. It was unjust to the boy to put him up igainst the savage Apaches for his Brat trial. Even some of the veteran officers of the war had made a nad failure of it when they came jut to the plains. The youngster, as the men called aim, had been with us a fortnight when the colonel ordered him out on i scout. We were to go down the valley four miles, turn to the west ind ride down the bank of Walnut ereek three miles and then come back over the hills. One sergeant, one corporal —twenty-five troopers in all. At that time the chances were against sighting an Indian, but the movement would tell their spies that we were alert and watchful.

In due time we reached the creek and turned in. It was lined with trees and bushes and offered cover to an enemy. The youngster gave no orders, however, and appeared greatly surprised when he looked back and observed the attitude of the men. They held their carbines ready for what might come and obliqued off against the hillside. I think the officer was about to hurl some indignant protest at us when we got a volley from the bushes. Every man in the troop realized on the instant that we had only ten or a dozen redskins to deal with —every man but the officer. Had we wheeled into line, fired a volley and charged, we should have driven them from cover and had a good show to exterminate the band. The youngster was rat tied by the suddenness of the attack, and because two br three horses went •down he lost his head apd ordered us to push forward at a gallop, leaving two men who had been dismounted, but were unhurt, to be deliberately shot down as they sought for cover. We had dashed forward about half a mile, when every trooper suddenly pulled up and wheeled about. No one gave the order, but all acted in concert. We were too late to save our comrades, but the sight of their mutilated bodies brought shouts of revenge as we charged the thicket. We got a feeble volley, and another horse went down, but in ten minutes we had wiped out the last warrior. Nine of them had put the twety-five of us to flight. The youngster was brought back to us by the sound of the firing. His face wore a look of astonishment and dismay as he saw the dead. When he was informed that we had made a cowardly retreat before such a small force and when a trooper held up the scalp locks of bur dead comrades and growled out that they had been abandoned to their fate when a cool head would have saved them, the face of the young uuyi was white as death, and he made no reply. A trooper was sent to the fort for an ambulance to carry in the dead, and after beating up the bushes again we sat down to await his return. The lieutenant dismounted and sat by himself. For a long time he sat with his face in his hands gazing at the earth, and there wasn’t one of us who didn't feel sorry for him. By and by he called the sergeant over to him and asked: “Sergeant, did you realize that we were being fired on by so sm all a force?” “I judged them to number from nine to twelve, sir,” was the reply. “And had you been in command what action would you have taken?” “Fours right, wheel, and a volley and charge. That would have been my way if they had numbered 100, for a dash would have driven them from cover and Jet us in.” “And the order I gave was to push forward, which was the same as a retreat?” “So we understood, sir.” “And you returned and attacked without orders?” “Without orders, sir." “That will do. sergeant. The ambulances should be here soon. You see about the bodies. Try and tell a straight, plain story about the fight when you report to the captain.” With that he got up and moved up the hill as if surveying the country, and no one happened to be looking at him when he put his revolver to his head and sent a bullet into his brains. He was dead before we got to him. Poor youngster! A courtmartial would ■ have dismissed him from the service. Even had no charges been preferred, he could not have held his head up among men' — fighting men. “Say,” exclaimed the sergeant, as we stood looking at the body, “he made a mistake, but paid for it with his life, and no man shall speak ill of him. He was a youngster and had never seen an injun, and that's all that ailed him.”

Last Sunday Rev. Dr. David H. Greer, of St. Bartholomew’s, New York, told his congregation he wanted a collection of SIO,OOO for church improvements and got it. In the four and one-half years of his pastorate St. Bartholomew has paid out $1,035,000 for charity and expenses, and this from voluntary contributions. In 1833 one of George Stephenson's engines smashed a farmer's wagon and 960 eggs. “Dear me!” said a director, “this won’t do. Can’t you make your steam make a noise?" So Stephenson rigged up the whistle.