Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 25, Number 16, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 13 October 1894 — Page 3

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chief. He bottled his wrath, as he did the colonel's commentaries, and kept them both for future emergencies. A relic of the vaunted old dragoon days was the colonel one of the fast vanishing lot of hard-riding, hard-fighting, and sometimes hard-swearing campaigners who had learned their trade under masters of the art long years before the war. He had crossed the Llano Estacado and camped on the Mimbres and chased the Navajoes when Navajoes were monarchs of the southwestern plains, were bellicose not bucolic, raised sheol instead of sheep—a statement otherwise expressed by Kit Carson, a keen scout and a keener judge of aborignal nature, who said that when they were not raising hell or ha'r in equal proportions the Navajoes were either dead or asleep. Wo were having campaigns ten times more thrilling in point of incident, ten time fiercer in point of fighting and casualties, ten times tougher in point of hardship and privation—and the food we lived on— than those of the Navajo days, to be sure, but the colonel would have it the service wasn't to be mentioned alongside that to which he had been accustomed when thoy scouted with Kearney or Fauntleroy and rode races with the Mounted Kifles at Albuquerque and Santa Fe. They made cavalrymen in those days," said he. Then with gloomy reference to the losses of the summer just gone by: "Now they only kill 'em, and this set of slummers they are sending out to recruit us is only fit to be killed, anyhow. Why the devil did you send me such a wooden-headed idiot for an orderly on this day of all others?" he demanded of his staff officer. "Why, he couldn't speak English!"

Now, when the colonel began to ask questions and invite explanations we all knew that he had, measurably at least, blown off his wrath was beginning to regret anything sharp he had said was penitent, and wanted to be mollified and forgiven and taken into go«d fellowship again. Nobody knew this better than the adjutant, or presumed on it more. At this stage of the proceedings Bob became downright impudent. But his brown eyes twinkled with fun as he stood facing the colonel and waiting for an opportunity to speak. "No, sir he couldn't speak a word of English," repeated the colonel. "We-ell," said Bob, reflectively, "it wasn't a civil service examination I was running. He was the cleanest man on guard, aad your orders are—" "Then send me the dirtiest so long as we are in the field," burst in the colonel, impetuously. "What I want in an orderly is just what rdon't want in an adjutant—a man who can repeat what I say. and not think." "Well, anybody ought to be able to do that, sir." began the adjutant, with a twitch under the heavy thatch of his moustache. "Wait till I get through, young man," interrupted the colonel again, impressively "then you may "be as harmless as you know how. What I need in an adjutant is one who can think and not say anything—except when 1 tell him to. Now, you sent me a Dutch doll that couldn't even squawk In English. He culled mo names in 6ome foreign lingo." "Well, you wouldn't want him to do It in English, would yon, colonel?" "Wouldn't? I didn't—d—n it! where are your wits this morning. Gray? He— ho—what was it he called irife, Fallon?" "Sounded like O-burst was all I heard, sir." said the quartermaster, uncomfortably. "But Sergt Stein says that's only the double Dutch for colonel."

Mr. Gray's eyes were dancing now. "I never saw the man before in my life, colonel," said he. "He came with that big batch of recruits the other day. Manning's first sergeant marched him on. He looked spick~sp*m neat and clean and intelligent—by long odds the trimmest and most soldier-like fellow on guard." "Not excepting the officer of the day and adjutant, I suppose," interposed the colonel. "No exceptions whatever, sir. Indeed, not excepting any man in the whole command, from the colonel up —I mean down. You were saying yesterday that the only way to tell real cavalrymen from recruits was that we looked like jayhawkers and they like Jew-store dummies. Still, I thought the sight of a man clean shaved, with buttons and buckles polished, would please your eyes after all this campaign's mud, so I sent him. Of course, if he oould only call yon names in Dutch I'm sorry, and will see that you're properly looked after next time."

But even "Old Tintop" began to see the fun under the sedate gravity of the adjutant's words. "Confound you for a young rascal! What have_yon been making me say,

AKD

CHAPTER HE oolonel was hopping mad. Anybody could see it, and everybody within range oi his tongue and temper felt it. Bob Gray, the

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adjutant, guessed it be' and Shoshone leggius, standing attenfore he got within tion before the colonel's "shack"—he sound of his voice, and could swear to it before he got out again. Being only an adjutant, however, he couldn't swear at it, and so keep on even terms with his

ARRANGEMENT,

anyhow? Comb back here, "Fallon, and stop your laughing, too, sir! You're a nice pair to play it on your old-^- What do you want, air?"

Turning suddenly, he addressed a ragged, tattered, hungry-looking party in hunting-shirt, buckskin breeches

had no tent—with a bare brown hand raised to his rusty brawn carbine in salute. "I'm ordered to report to the colonel as the dirtiest man on guard, air," was the stolid answer.

For a moment the commander gazed at him in wrath, and then a light flashed across his mental vision. "Now see what you've reduced me to, Gray, you infernal young sinner, sent Stein back with the orderly you picked out, and here's the result." "Well, sir, if dirt's what you want, this—" "But it isn't," interrupted the colonel "I want an orderly, and not a soarecrow. Now you see, do you?" "I think I do, sir. Neither a rag doll nor a Dutch doll, neither the cleanest nor the dirtiest, just a happy medium, one who can call names in English preferred, not so swell as to put our headquarters to shame, nor so shabby as to make us blush for all— Well, I think I understand you."

Bxit here the colonel interposed with language so forcible as to put a stop even to Gray's fun, which he would stand, as a rule, longer than anybody else's. Meantime, the discovery having been made that recruit Schramm was but a novice in English, whatsoever he might be in German, that young soldier was told by the sergeant of the guard to "Go on out of this and back to your bunkies. Sure you couldnt tell a Sioux from a shyster unless he shot you in Dutch," which, being interpreted, was understood to mean that until he had mastered the English language he wasn't fit for sentry duty. And so, much troubled, the young fellow went to Sergt. Schultz, a Prussian like himself, and sorrowfully told his tale.

Never in his life had Private Schramm's blue eyes gazed on scenes and soldiers such as these. Just what he expected to find in the ranks of the American army he had revealed as yet to no one. It was the eventful sum

"I'M OBDKRED TO REPORT AS THE DIRTIEST MAN ON .GUARD."

mer of '70, when, amazed at the force and fury with which the Sioux had fought and baffled the commands of Crook and Custer, Terry and Gibbon, congress authorized the immediate enlistment of twenty-five hundred men to fill the gaps in the four regiments of cavalry engaged in the campaign. No credentials were required. Eager for a chance to get to the new diggings— the Black Hills of Dakota—at the expense of Uncle Sam, swarms of toughs were enlisted in the slums of New York and Philadelphia and Baltimore, and four weeks later were deserting by the dozen, with horse and equipment complete, as they reached the wasted army in the field. But there was leaven in the lump. "That young feller's a soldier clean through," said the recruiting sergeant when Schramm gave his name, age, nationality, etc., answering promptly so long as the questions were propounded in the German tongue. "Can't he speak English at all?" said the recruiting officer, doubtfully. "Well, what's the odds, after all, so long as he's only going to be scalped? Swear him in." And so, silent, observant, patient, Schramm was shipped westward with the first lot of victims, turned over to the waiting officers at the cavalry depot, was marched out to camp and set to work grooming a horse the very evening of his arrival, and turned out for drill the next morning, when, barring a certain quaint habit of throwing the left foot far out to the front at the command "march," and a queer way of executing "aboat face," it was found that he was far better drilled in the rudiments, at least, than the corporal detailed aa his instructor. The carbine manual was strange to him, but not so the saber. He handled it like a master. He knew how to clean and polish arms, belt buckles, ete., in a way that the few old hands at the post recognized at once as "expert." He was besieged by German sergeants with queries as to his past history, but said be preferred to keep all that to himself. Yes, he had served. No use In denying that. He had been through certain cadet schools and entered a certain regiment of hussars which one he wouldn't say, neither could they find out by writing. It waa nobody's business but his own, anyhow, said he: The United States had adopted him, and he was now an Amerikaner,

"Frelwilliger," too. Long before the weary march to the hills was over he had demonstrated the fact that he a fine horseman and a good shot, Lieut. Ray, commander of the big detaohment, had more than once spoken of It and

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Wisely he kept his views to himself, making no comment even to the Germans, who were disposed to be sociable and to question him as to his antecedents. In two days a strong column marched away—all broken-down men and horses and all raw recruits being left behind—but with Schramm, evidently an educated cavalryman, riding buoyantly in the ranks of troop on the spirited roan he had bestridden all the way from the railway. "Whatever they look," thought he, "these fellows are mightily at home on the frontier." Sergt. Schultz explained that they always left their uniforms in garrison when in the field after Indians, but called his attention to the fact that they never lived better in the old country than these rough-looking fellows were living now. Already the ills of the summer were forgotten

Whether he forgot or not, Sohramm made no reply. He was well oontent with his rations, for field appetite is a wondrous sauce, and soldier coffee, with bacon, beans, "Dutch oven bread and antelope steak have a relish in the keen October air known only to the frontiersman. 'Schramm, from looking pale, peaked, and a trifle pathetic when he stepped from the crowded train at the railway, had sprouted a fuzzy beard, blistered the skin of his cheeks and nose in the hot noonday Bunshine, seared his eyelids by in temperate ablutions in alkali water, and was making commendable progress in plainscraft and plains-English. In three weeks' scouting down the South Cheyenne, with the Bad Lands on the right and worse lands on the left, he became so proficient in the cavalry art of pre-empting a good patoh of gj ass for his horse that his troop commander, closely watching his new re cruit, remarked that that young fellow would be a valuable, non-commissioned officer some day, if he hadn't been already. Like the Germans of his heterogeneous troop, the captain was of the opinion that Schramm had a history.

One evening, far down the valley where not an Indian had been seen or heard of, the outlying sentries' reported a bunch of black-tailed deer in the foothills to the northwest. Lieut. Morgan was in command of the guard, and his captain was officer of the day.' Morgan took a squad of three or four men, mounted and rode away down the wind, while a party of offioers scram bled up the bank to the edge ot the broad prairie to watch the sport, it was just then that Schramm, his blue eyes ablaze, clicked his heels together, stood bolt upright, and began, coloring even redder in combined eagerness and embarrassment, "Bitte, Herr Rittmeister," then, desperately plunging into trooper's English as he had heard it spoken: "Kin I go along mit dem fellers alretty?" and as Manning nodded assent, he saluted with marked precision, bored a hole with his heel in the alkali dust in punctilious execution of the "kehrt," sprang bareback on his horse and rode away, carbine in hand, after his trooper comrades. Half an hour went by, and the herd, still undisturbed, continued to graze. The hunters were out of sight among the depressions of the surface. The captain sent for his field glass, and other officers joined him and levelled their binoculars on the distant quarry—just a deer family having a quiet dinner together in a sheltered ravine opening out into the broad bottom of the stream. Presently, one after another, three or four black objects crawled around a point. "Yonder's Morgan," said the watchers. Suddenly th6 deer family tossed high their heads, then darted away into the hills and were out of sight an instant. Two or three of the younger officers set up a laugh of derision: "Pretty hunting, that is!" But the elders looked grave.

What scared them?" was ths query. The black dots of hunters had halted, evidently in surprise. There seemed to be a moment of consulation, and then all three could be seen running back in the direction in which they came. "Going for the horses to chase the deer," laughed young Leonard, who sneered at Morgan's claims as a deerstalker.

Chose be hanged 1 Look there! the deer are chasing them." Then up rose every man in mad excitement, for their senior lieutenant, Mr. Ray, had sprung to his feet and rushed for his horse. "Deer, yon damned fool! It's Indians!" he cried and, shouting for some of the guard to foUow him, Mr. Ray threw himseli upon his nimble sorrel and darted oul over the prairie to the rescue. In minute half a dozen men were stringing along after him, while the alarm sounded among the cotton-woods and the herd-guards came driving in theii excited cavalladas.

Meantime, there was the mischief to pay. Leaving two men as horse-hold-ers in a little swale, Morgan with three others, including the eager young Prussian, crawled off for a shot at the herd. They were in plain view, and utterly unsuspicious of approach from that quarter, when, all on sadden, the buck started, stamped, tossed his crest, and away they all flew tip the grassy ravine. Rising to his feet to study the situation, after a word or two of caution to his comrades, Morgan was saluted by the whistle of a. bullet past his head—another—another —and each couple^ with the sharp report of the rifle.

a

Back to your horses,

TERRE HAUTE SATURDAY ^EVENING MAIL, OCTOBER 13,1894.

when finally they reached the

wild romantic hills and were distributed among the regiments there awaiting them, Schramm looked with wonderment in his soul, if not in his eyBS, at the slouch-hatted, rough-shlrted, unshaven officers, at the ragged mob of the rank and file, at their gaunt skeletons of horses, and marveled that his strange fortunes had made him a soldier in so strange a Service.

quiekr

he

shouted. All four ran, only to catch sight of a party of Sioux lashing straight down

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the slope to head them off, while others, firing rapidly, gave chase from across the ravine to their rear. Before he had gone twenty yards Morgan saw Sohrp.mm stumble and fall, face downward. "What is it?" he cried, running and bending over him. "Are you hit? Here, let me help you, man." And poor Schramm could only clasp his hand about his leg and plead in English equally broken: "Lauf'—Roon! Herr Lieutenant. Ach Gott! I can it not make." Then Morgan, big powerful fellow, cut him short and swung the little ex-Hussar on his back and plunged ahead, heedless of his captives splutter and struggles. But yelling Sioux and whistling bullets both were gaining. Another minute, and down went

RISING TO HIS FEET TO STUDY THE SITUATION.

lieuteriantahd man, carrier and carried and this time Schramm, 'rolling over and over, never let go of his carbine, but, lying prone, levelled it over a little hummock, and sent a shot square at the foremost Indian, tripping his calico pony in the nick of time. Morgan echoed with another. "Good boy, Schramm! Give 'em some more," he cried, as the charging warriors veered and opened out. Then came other shots from the swale in rear. Only one man held the horses now the others—the whole squad—were blazing away. "Check to your, game, my bucks!" panted Morgan, loading, firing and missing again. "It's little but lead you'll get out of this outfit." The In-

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