Aug. 2, 1888.] 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



23 



plainly see our naked dead bodies on that barren sand 

 bar. I could distinguish the features of every Indian. I 

 eould hear every word they said. One burly brute, with 

 Mdeous black and yellow stripes on his face, measured 

 Joe's giant length; another ghastly, naked demon danced 

 and sang on the body of Cash; and I could feel on my 

 pallid cheek the hot and sickening breath of the grim 

 and painted savage as he pulled the torn scalp from my 

 bleeding head. 



I was gazing on this vision as on a panoramic picture, 

 when Joe said in a husky whisper, "Indians." I turned 

 my startled gaze, and on the opposite bank I beheld the 

 figures, that in bright moonlight looked gigantic, of a 

 war party filing into the opposite bottom. My life had 

 been of adventure and danger. Before I was sixteen I 

 had carried a musket through more than twenty battles. 

 "When a boy, I was one of a charging column that rushed 

 on a masked battery, and whose shattered ranks were 

 mowed by a hell of shot and shell, and I lay wounded 

 and senseless among the dead and dying; I, with four 

 others, had been perched on a hill, under a burning sun. 

 without ammunition, food or Water, every horse killed 

 and night coming on, amid the despair-inspiring howls 

 of the wolves attracted by the blood of the shot horses; 

 I had been ridden down, alone, a hundred miles from the 

 nearest white man. by a naked war party — but until this 

 moment I never realized what horrror meant. Had 

 some Perseus turned the horrid glare of his Gorgon- 

 headed shield on me, I could not have been more petrified 

 with horror. My own blood appeared to freeze. I felt 

 So sure that everything I had seen would come to pass. 



Joe, after a few minutes, asked what we had better do. 

 As soon as I could speak I suggested thai; we had better 

 keep on the dark side where we were and float down to 

 the mouth of the Fourchette, of which we were in the 

 neighborhood, and turn up that stream and take to the 

 dense brush. We were not certain whether the Indians 

 had seen us, and we sat the remainder of the night in 

 .the brush. When daylight came we reconnoitered for 

 Some time, but could detect no sign of Indians. We took 

 our skiff, continued our journey and in a short time 

 reached our stockade. Cash staid in the skiff to be ready 

 for accidents; Joe and I jumped ashore to reconnoiter the 

 ground. The war party we had seen had camped in our 

 \jabin but were gone on. They had torn up our floor, I 

 suppose to see if we had hidden anything. They had 

 thought the graves of Foster, Jordan and Long to be a 

 cache and had opened them, and the first sight Joe and I 

 saw was the stalwart arm of Long, with a clenched 

 hand, pointing upward out of his grave to the sky, stark 

 and stiff. Henry Macdonald. 



THE SPIRITS OF GREEVER'S CAMP, 



MURDER will out, they say. I believe it. To the 

 sternest mind, concealing any crime, there must 

 some day come the time when concealment is no longer 

 possible. The soul must free itself. Age, anxiety, or 

 approaching dissolution constitute potent incentives to 

 confession of crime. Under such influences the bur- 

 dened heart can endure the strain no longer. History of 

 crimes or criminals offers frequent confirmation of this 

 fact. 



My life — if friends will so far as possible excuse the 

 personal reference — has not been all good; to the con- 

 trary, it has in some cases been quite the reverse. I have 

 committed a crime. This horrid knowledge has long 

 dwelt hidden in my mind; and now, as my life totters to 

 its end, I can withhold my confession no longer. 



I have committed a crime. It was a peculiar sort of 

 crime; in short, it was so very peculiar, that I feel as if 

 I should be committing a second crime, and a greater, by 

 keeping the circumstances concealed in my bosom. 



It s about a friend of mine. And when I think of the 

 kind of game we sprung on him; when I consider the 

 heartless, unfeeling nature of our conduct — for there 

 were accomplices — when I think of the trusting, unsus- 

 picious nature of our victim, and reflect on the total ab- 

 sence of all mitigating circumstances, my heart, misgives 

 me, even now. 



The deed was done in the rude cabin at Greever's Camp, 

 by the lonesome Cimarron, in the far-off Indian lands. 

 The chief conspirators were Buck, the cook; Red, the 

 foreman; Jack, a trail rider; Ricker, and my guilty self. 

 The victim was our mutual friend, Mr. A., a gentleman 

 not unknown in these columns, a thorough sportsman, 

 and as good a companion on a hunt as you will find, 

 especially when he takes his pack of hounds. Yes, Mr. 

 A. is still alive. I don't think he will be willing to die at 

 all, now, until he has paid me out for telling about this. 

 But I should die if I didn't tell it, anyway, so it will be 

 just as well if he does kill me. 



It was midnight. Cold and sharp the wind sang over- 

 head. Outside, twenty greyhounds were quarreling on 

 the porch; inside, a bright fire roared and crackled, and 

 painted on the wall those rare pictures which none but 

 hunters ever see; and back we lay on our blanket rolls, 

 and dreamed, I suppose, of Annie Laurie, and smoked, 

 and were silent, and may he dreamed again. Then some 

 one scraped a bootsole on the floor, and the little noise 

 broke the dam of silence and everybody said something, 

 and two or three said the wind sounded like a soul in 

 trouble. Spooks and spirits drifted into consideration, 

 and long talk and wide discussion followed. It then be- 

 came apparent — what some of us already knew — that Mr. 

 A. was a firm believer in spiritualism. 



Now, I am not a spiritualist, but I think none the less 

 of any man for being one, provided other things be equal. 

 I am ready to say with the one man of eai - th who has 

 covered all eartldy certainties and earthly speculations — 



"There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, 

 Than are dreamed of in thy philosophy." 



I am willing to allow any man his own belief, if he pays 

 his taxes and ties up his dog of nights. I hardly know, 

 therefore, why I took any hand in what followed. Shall 

 I say that some evil spirit tempted me? Would that make 

 my peace with Mr. A.? 



Our talk, long and profitless, as such talks always are, 

 grew animated and almost excited, Mr. A. stoutly meet- 

 ing our joint protests with answers and hard questions. 

 There was a lot of talk about planchettes, and tables, and 

 slates, and rappings and magnetism, and electricity, and 

 all the familiar stuff; and then, when the matter had be- 

 gun to get down to the personal experiences, I felt a kick 

 from Buck's long leg, and we wmispered a little, and I 

 nudged Ricker, and Ricker nudged Jack, and Jack whis- 



pered to Red when Mr. A, s back was turned. After a 

 brief pause, every villain pulled his face straight, and 

 Buck said: 



"Fellows, did you ever know I used to be a sort of 

 medium myself. 



None of us had known that. But Mr. A. jumped at the 

 word, and said he had no doubt that with Buck's assist- 

 ance he could make the table walk around the room. 

 Their Ricker developed latent powers, and they all sat 

 down at the table, lightly resting tbeir fingers upon the 

 top in the usual way. 



Would you believe it ? The table began to move ! 



Mr. A. became strangely excited. We all gathered 

 about in eager interest. "1 never saw the like before!" 

 yelled Mr. A., "I never saw it start off so soon and strong 

 before!" 



Alas ! my friend, no wonder you never did. That was 

 owing to the peculiar nature of the spirits of Greever's 

 Camp. Not all spirits have so facile a leg ae Ricker's nor 

 so innocent a face as Buck's. 



The boys walked the table about shamelessly with their 

 legs, and I lay on the floor and lied on the floor, and said 

 I couldn't see anything, and Red stood it as long as he 

 could, and exclaiming "I'm going to get out of here!" 

 rushed outside and made that strange choking sound that 

 men do when they are frightened — or want to laugh. 



"Well, now then, what do you think?" asked Mr. A. in 

 triumph. We didn't say. 



The villainy of it! The disgracefulness of it! Surely, 

 there are mad moments in a man's life. 



Mr. A. went down to the bam to see if the dogs Were 

 all right. "Quick!" whispered some one, and there were 

 hurried preparations. When Mr. A. came in we were all 

 unrolling our blankets and unlacing our boots. A lew 

 moments later silence reigned, save for a gentle snore or 

 so. 



A little later yet there came a faint "Tick tock!" on the 

 wall just above Mr. A.'s head. "Hush! what was that?" 

 he said. He was lying awake, "Tick tock!" came the 

 sound again. "Oh, I know; it's the door peg, the wind's 

 blowing it around." "Tick tock!" solemnly came the 

 sound again. Red sat up in bed. Mr. A. rose, looked at 

 the door peg and found it fast in the hole. 



"Don't you hear that noise?" he inquired excitedly of 

 Ricker and me, who slept at the other end of the cabin. 

 "Yes," we guilessly replied, we heard it, and it was 

 directly over our heads, and it was a barrel hoop hang- 

 ing on the wall outside. But exploration revealed no 

 hoop, and still that solemn, muffled sound kept on. 



"Are you a spirit?" yelled Mr. A. 



"Yes," rapped out the noise, in three distinct knocks. 

 The excitement grew intense. 



At this moment, no man being near it, the table began 

 to move! First it scratched on the floor hesitatingly; 

 then it shook, then distinctly, unmistakably, it began to 

 move. It started directly for the corner of the room 

 where Ricker and I lay! 



We rose from our blankets, we shrank back from it. 

 Powerless, helpless, we cowered in the corner of the 

 cabin, trembling, aye, even shaking under the emotions 

 which assailed us. The firelight must have shown ghastly 

 on our faces, for even to-day Mr. A. insists that we were 

 deathly pale, and that our hair stood on end in sheer 

 fright. 



"It's coming for you! It's coming for you!" screamed 

 Mr. A. "There's your proof! What do you think now?" 



Well, what do you think? I think it was a shame. If 

 a boy of mine were to go and play such a trick on a 

 gentleman older than himself , and then go and tell about 

 it afterward, I should break his back and then insert him 

 in the cold, cold grave. 



Slowly the muffled beats subsided. "I'm not afraid 

 of any spirits," said Ricker. "Nor I," said Red. "I'm 

 not afraid of any table," said I; and in the dim light I 

 crawled out on the floor and displayed my valor by un- 

 tying the twine string from the table leg, and throwing 

 it under the blankets, where nobody could see it. And 

 then we lay there, and talked and protested and lied, and 

 got laughed at by Mr. A. until nearly morning. And 

 when Mr. A. went out to the barn in the morning Ricker 

 jerked down the leaden bullet which had formed his 

 simple "tick-tock," and rolled up the black thread which 

 had stretched across the rafters and hung down in the 

 corner of the room where we lay. And at breakfast we 

 were all ashamed, and treated Mr. A. mighty politely, 

 but couldn't look him in the eye, and didn't want to talk 

 about spirits, and wondered how he would take it when 

 he found it out. 



Life in the camp proceeded as life on a hunt will, and 

 we conspirators daily grew more remorseful. For myself, 

 I wanted a dozen times to make my confession, but never 

 had nerve enough. At last, two days afterward, while 

 we were riding out across the hills with the hounds, Mr. 

 A. came up to me and said : "Say, H., I don't think I ever 

 in my life saw such strong manifestations as we had the 

 other night, and I've been attending sittings for some 

 time, too." 



"Now look here, A.," said I, "don't come and talk to 

 me like that because I can't stand it. The boys put up 

 an awful job on you that night." 



"Job nothing!" exploded he. "Do you take me for a 

 natural born fool? Do you think I can't see? Haven't I 

 got ears?" 



I explained to him that he might have the best ears in 

 the world and yet not see into the workings of a black 

 string of a dark night, and I further proceeded to read 

 him a lecture on the f ollies of superstition, all the time 

 keeping my six-shooter loose in the holster, because you 

 can't tell always. Mr. A. laughed at me, laughed loud 

 and long and deeply. 



"Now say," said he, "it's all right to get scared at a 

 little innocent table tipping, but to try to pass it off as a 

 joke, when all the time you know you were frightened 

 plum near to death, why that's what you might call a 

 little too thin, I should say." 



I protested and reasoned and explained, but it was no 

 use. "Why, pshaw, man!" he said, "what's the use talk- 

 ing to me that way ! Why don't you just own up that 

 the whole lot of you were scared about out of your wits? 

 You can't fool me. Wasn't Red all broke out in a cold 

 sweat? Didn't I feel a cold wave pass over my face when 

 the rappings began? I tell you you can't fool me. I've 

 seen them influences before. I'm an old-timer, I am," 



I told the boys what Mr. A. had said, and they all went 

 and apologized, and got laughed at in turn. We began 

 to think it pretty hard to tell where the joke came in. 

 And not during that whole hunt did Mr. A. become 



changed in his belief. He only laughed the louder at our 

 fright and at our flimsy explanation. 



"You needn't think I'm going to have any mercy on 

 you," said he, "I'm going to tell the boys all about it." 



And I wish I may die if he didn't. He just circulated 

 that story of the spirits of Greever's Camp all through 

 Kansas, and kept us so busy explaining that life became 

 a burden. A deuce of a practical joke this was ! At last 

 I went to him and said: 



"Now look here, A., if you don't let up on this busi- 

 ness, and confess that you were the worst fooled man in 

 the great American desert, I'll give the whole thing dead 

 away, and put the facts before the great American public 

 — I will, now, and no mistake." 



"Confess nothing !" said he. "What do you take me 

 for? Think I'm a blasted tenderfoot? If you want to 

 write that thing up, why go ahead, just as you give the 

 facts, and don't lie about it. You need't think I'll care: 

 but it'll make a spectacle out of you, now sure." 



Therefore, and for reasons hereinbefore set forth, I 

 have given .thesefacts about our Walpurgis Night down 

 on the Cimarron. It was rude fun, I do not question, 

 and I abate not one jot of my confession of remorse. But 

 the main question still remains. How shall we convince 

 Mr. A. that those spirits were hand-made? E. Hough. 



Hutchinson, Kan. 



NOTES FROM A TEXAS PASTURE. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



I had occasion some time since to travel from the town 

 of Albany in a loaded wagon, and finding the roads very 

 heavy from recent rains, I determined to lessen the bur- 

 den upon the animals by setting out on foot. The soil of 

 the prairies was of the black waxy sort, extremely sticky 

 after a rain. On either side of the road the walking 

 was good enough, from the great wealth of grasses and 

 wild flowers which made it tolerably firm beneath the 

 feet. A few miles from Fort Griffin the road led by a 

 large pasture in which were many horses and kine, very 

 sleek and beautiful. They had nothing to do but eat and 

 be merry and beget their kind, and to thank God that he 

 had given them life. I thought of King David's 

 lamb, the perfect type of contentment and innocence. 

 "The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh 

 me to lie down in green pastures; he leadeth me by the 

 still waters. * * Thou art with me; thy rod and thy 

 staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me; 

 thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. 

 Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days 

 of my life." 



As the weather was showery. I wore a long and loose 

 rubber coat which covered my body to the feet, causing 

 me to look like a wandering monk of the deserts, or pos- 

 sibly a crazy woman of great size. As I strode by the 

 pasture the horses took deep interest in me, lifting their 

 heads and gazing intently, and sometimes blowing loud 

 blasts from their noses. Those that were feeding apart 

 hastened to join the others, so that there was soon quite 

 a brigade before me. The nearer I approached them the 

 greater grew their interest; becoming so filled with it 

 in a little while that hardly any of them could be still a 

 moment. Sometimes they turned their heads as if they 

 would run away; then again confronted me with ears 

 pricked up and eyes ablaze. I concluded it was my imb- 

 ber coat, and the strange appearance it' gave me. which 

 excited them so much; it being probably the first time 

 they had seen a man in such a costume. That I was a 

 man none of them I guess, doubted; but it was plain 

 that they held me as a very outlandish one, who might 

 also be very wicked. 



The inside of my rubber coat is of a rare combination 

 of colors, and presents a grotesque appearance wdien 

 turned inside out. Therefore I slipped behind a great live- 

 oak, so the horses could not well see what was going on, 

 and quickly turned my coat inside out and put it on 

 again. Then stepping to the front I saw that their 

 amazement knew no bounds. A great commotion had 

 come among them. They lifted their heads higher than 

 ever, and many of them turned tail to fly. If they sus- 

 pected me to be a wicked person before, it now seemed 

 that they had let go all doubt of it, and reckoned me at 

 once as a monster and a terror, who could shift the color 

 of his skin at will and so quickly. They could not stand 

 it long. Presently they broke unanimously and flew 

 over the prairie like a whirlwind, causing the kine in 

 their way to break helter-skelter to clear the track. 

 There were several high points in the pasture. To the 

 top of one of these they sped in admirable and beautiful 

 order, as if under military tactics; then stopped and 

 gazed and blew blasts from their noses. But only for a 

 short time could they stand this, so full were they of the 

 strange creature. Suddenly down the hill they went 

 like a tempest and swept away out of sight; to return in 

 a few moments to another hill, where they again stood 

 and gazed and blew their blasts. 



In meantime the kine had begun to gaze and be seized 

 with wonder. They began to collect from all sides, so 

 that there was soon a large body. Very generally they 

 began to shake their heads at the strange object, as if 

 they wished to notify it that they had horns and under- 

 stood the use of them. On the whole their behavior was 

 audacious, yet with many signs that they thought it 

 best to be discreet and not hastily to provoke the object. 

 They soon began a general advance, not as if they would 

 at once attack, but cautiously, as if they would first in- 

 vestigate what the strange thing might be. When within 

 50yds. all stopped to put their wits to work, gazing in- 

 tently, evidently in profound and perplexed study. Some 

 of the most audacious shook their heads and stamped the 

 ground viciously, apparently by way of bravado. Now 

 and then they turned their heads and looked at each 

 other, as if communing what to do, or may be see if any 

 had lost heart and were about to fly. At last a bull left 

 the herd and advanced within two steps of me, so that 

 I felt nervous lest the wire fence should not prove 

 strong enough to hold him. But he stopped, and I saw 

 from the expression in his great eyes that, however brave 

 he may have appeared to his admiring herd he was in 

 reality in much dread lest the strange object should leap 

 upon him. 



Suddenly I spread my coat out on each side, so as to 



