INDIANS BEATEN AT THEIR OWN GAME. 



H. H. SAUBER. 



The larks whistled and the linnets chirped 

 their happy notes as they circled and darted 

 in flocks across the level plain, while 

 the bold cry of the first robin resounded 

 cheerily. A pair of wise-looking crows 

 gossiped and croaked around the gnarled 

 tops of some digger pines, over on Deer 

 creek, apparently idle, but in reality keep- 

 ing a vigilant eye on 2 hawks that soared 

 over the belt of timber shading the stream. 

 Sweet odors of wild flowers, on the plain, 

 stole softly through the air, and the gentle 

 wash of the water under the newly clothed 

 oaks and sycamores was audible, while a 

 dull roar could be heard coming from the 

 foot of the hill, where the stream broke 

 from the dark canyon. 

 ) Edith Thornton chirped as cheerily as 

 the linnets, as she sat on the broad veranda, 

 that bright spring afternoon, in California. 



The large, low house stood among shady 

 oaks, below whose branches the beautiful 

 plain could be seen stretching for miles, 

 dotted here and there with groves, along 

 the numerous water-courses. 



Edith's eyes, as she sewed and sang, con- 

 stantly wandered across the broad prairie, 

 while her pretty face wore a half anxious, 

 half expectant look. At length a bright 

 glow crept over her cheeks, and a happy 

 light shone in her eyes, for she saw a horse- 

 man approaching. In a moment Tom Mar- 

 tin reined his panting horse with a jerk that 

 sat the animal on its haunches. Tom tossed 

 the reins to the ground, dismounted, and 

 hurried across the porch, the big rowels of 

 his spurs ringing at every step. 



Edith looked alarmed, for as Tom threw 

 up the broad rim of his sombrero, she saw 

 that his handsome face, usually so gay, was 

 pallid and grave. 



" What is it? " she began, hurriedly. 

 Tom smiled reassuringly. 



" Don't be alarmed," he said, " but get 

 one of the boys to let me have his horse. 

 Old man Coggins and both his girls were 

 killed last night, and people think it was 

 Indians." 



"Oh, Tom!" 



" I've ridden from Sandy Gulch, and 

 must hurry on to tell Hi Good," Martin 

 added hurriedly. 



Did Edith scream or faint? No; in those 

 days there were times for crying and times 

 for working. It was the latter now. All 

 the men were away that afternoon, but 

 Edith accompanied Tom to the stable, led 

 out her brother's favorite horse and held 

 him while her companion hastily changed 

 the saddle. Then she bade Tom adieu, 

 went to the house and threw herself, weep- 

 ing, into her mother's arms; for the mur- 

 dered girls were her friends. 



That evening some half-dozen men, 

 among them her father and her 2 brothers, 

 were in the house making arrangements to 

 join in the hunt for the murderers. Tom 

 had not yet returned, but Edith perhaps ex- 

 pected him as she heard a horse gallop up 

 to the kitchen door. There was no familiar 

 jingle of spurs, however, and not a sound 

 on the porch, when the door opened and 

 the tall form of Hi Good was before her. 



" Hope I didn't frighten you," he com- 

 menced, in a soft deep voice. 



She seized his strong, brown hand in both 

 her own, and said, impulsively: " Oh, Cap- 

 tain Good, I'm so glad you came; for now 

 there won't be, any mistake." 



" I hope not," returned the scout, pleased 

 at this assurance of confidence. In truth, 

 if ever there lived a hero, Hi Good was such 

 in the eyes of the women and children of 

 Northern California, whose homes he pro- 

 tected so faithfully. 



By 10 o'clock 14 men had gathered at 

 Thornton's, ready for action. Tom had re- 

 turned, and was trying, in the stir of de- 

 parture, to get a few words with his sweet- 

 heart. Half an hour later the moon had 

 risen, and the party set out across the plains 

 to the scene of the tragedy. 



On reaching the place, they found nearly 

 40 men already there, having come from the 

 neighborhood of Chico. 



Intense excitement prevailed. Tracks 

 had been discovered, leading down the 

 stream, across the valley toward Chico, 

 thus convincing the first party that the 

 "tame" Indians on the Rancho Chico were 

 the guilty ones. The tracks were tracec to 

 the stage road, which crossed Sandy gulch 

 2 miles North of Chico. In this broad 

 thoroughfare all signs were lost. 



When Good's party arrived, the leader 

 was at once assailed with a volley of infor- 

 mation. After listening to an account of 

 the situation, the scout cut all further talk 

 short by saying sharply: 



" Better get to sleep now. At daylight, 

 show me the last tracks." Unsaddling his 

 mustang, he threw a heavy coat over his 

 shoulders, pillowed his head on his saddle 

 and growled to Tom Martin, who was close 

 by his side: "There's no use looking for 

 sign around the house. These town cusses 

 always manage to wipe out every clew be- 

 fore they go home, where they ought to 

 stay." Then, rolling over on his side, he 

 was soon asleep. 



Before sun-up, the party was moving. 

 Straight down the creek they went, until 

 near the stage road; then Good went for- 

 ward alone, to investigate. 



So many people had passed over the place 

 that few thought the scout could come to 



"3 



