Ann S. Stephens

“ A prairie life is one of constant changes and excitement. Few are the moments that can be spared from watchfulness, amid its ever-present danger, to give to regret. The tear must be dashed from the eye to sight the deadly rifle, and the hand that is performing the last acts of affection for the departed must turn hastily away for self-protection. It is a school, the like of which there is not elsewhere on earth, for training men to be self-reliant, brave to recklessness, scornful of privation, uncaring for hardship, and steady and unquailing in the hour of strife. ”

“ Earth is everywhere filled with the answer, and it needs no written words to blazon the burning shame so often hidden in the single word.
Off they go, that dark band of Indian warriors—black wolves, following on the trail of a wounded doe. Better for the poor girl they hunted to have perished in the glare of the lightning, amid the rolling music of the thunder, than meet them in the hour of their wrath. ”

“ The very rocks appear molten beneath his feet; and as he struggles on, almost bewildered, a burning thirst seizes him—a living flame is kindled in his vitals. Faint—fainter—yet still on! Is death coming on him now? Will the black buzzards feast upon him, and wild wolves wrangle for his bones? Like the miraculous outgush of water which leaped forth from the cleft rock smitten by the prophet, a crystal fountain came leaping from the hollows of a cliff just before him—leaping joyously over its shelf of mossy rock, and sending up its spray, shimmering in the sunshine like a network of golden lace. ”

“ It is a terrible thing when all the finer feelings of our nature are thrown broadcast to the winds, and standing on the verge of the maelstrom of despair, an immortal soul recklessly plunges into the mad waves beneath, to be whelmed and lost forever!
Groping along in the darkness, with lowly-bent form, and step light as the snow-flake’s fall, the Indian woman examined the face and dress of each sleeper. At length she kneels and touches with gentle fingers the fringed leggins and quill-worked hunting-shirt of a chief, who lay somewhat separated from his companions. ”

“ A priceless human life is hanging on those firmly-planted hoofs. On! champion of the prairie, with thy white mane and tail waving like phantom banners in the darkness. On! There must be no pause for rest, till that poor shivering creature finds a shelter. Alone, unguided, horse and rider tread the perilous way, but with instinct nearly allied to mind, the steed carries his fair burden patiently, but still upward. There is strength in his sinewy limbs, and fire in his eyes—swift blood coursing through his veins and courage in his heart ”

“ The Great Spirit hates the trail their moccasins are following. He has sent the fire-eyed ones from his giant wigwam, in the far-off clouds, to warn them,” cried an old warrior, starting up in the red light of the stricken tree.
“When they met the sons of the pale-face in battle,” cried another, “he turned their arrows aside, made their arms weak as the little pappoose, and their bow-strings snap like the dry reed in the breath of the tempest. Manitou is very angry!” ”

“ Beneath the iron-clad feet of our swift steeds—beneath the thunder-rush and lightning speed of engines—beneath the quick, firm tread of business men, and beneath the gentle pressure of the daintily-slippered feet of lovely women, lie the mouldering form—the dust of stalwart men and the more delicate clay that was fashioned by the Master hand into childhood, girlhood, womanhood—beauty. We turn from scenes of busy life, and enter the deep forest, unthinking and careless that beneath our footsteps lie the mouldering bones of the war-painted warrior, beside his broken spear and stringless bow ”

“ She sees a painted wigwam, at whose base the sleeping waters of the Spirit Lake ripple. The form of one, praised as the beauty of the tribe, sitting and singing as she weaves the sparkling beads into designs of grace and beauty. A manly step falls upon her ear, and her song is hushed, but to drink in far sweeter music to a maiden’s ear, the words of affection from the lips of the chosen one who already owns her heart. ”

“ Death was lurking beneath every footfall. And yet, knowing this, he gave no thought to his own safety or made any effort to escape the beating force of the storm. The mad rushing of the rain, the roaring of the angry thunder or the blinding glare of the lightning was nothing to him. A girl, a feeble girl, was waiting for him to rescue her from the hands of savage warriors, and all the fiends of the storm could not have forced him to pause for his own safety. ”

“ Echoing amid the fastnesses of a mountain-gorge—telling of the brawny and pitiless savage thirsting for blood and seeking for scalps—of the blackened torture-post and the lingering agony by fire, it becomes the very knell of all that is horrible and soul-affrighting.
“Indians! Indians!” whispered the men, with blanched lips, as they crowded together like threatened sheep, striving to gain courage from proximity.
“Yes,” replied Elder Thomas, “it’s the way with the reptiles. They always yell like so many panthers. But it ain’t the bark we have to fear, boys, but the bite.” ”

“ Spreading like a circle in the tideless lake, the fire knows no bounds, save when exhausted for want of fuel, it turns back on itself and dies.
See, with bounds swift and longer than an antelope ever compassed, it o’ertops the tallest leaves—runs stealthily along like a golden serpent, darting spitefully its forked tongue of living flame on every side, while crackling, hissing, roaring, its terrible writhings uncoil. In waves of living fire, flashing from a background of dense inky smoke, it rushes on, regardless of barriers, and scornful of bounds, a winged maelstrom of devastation. ”

“ The brave horse strains still upon the rocks, but when, where, will his journey be finished? It is past midnight and the thunder has ceased. The darkness is terrible, but the flood-gates of heaven are closed and the drenching torrent has exhausted itself. Shivering, hopeless, she clings wildly to that drooping neck with the grasp of one sinking beneath the swell of a strong tide. She feels her clothes brushing against the stony walls, and shudders, feebly feeling that any moment she may be swept off and hurled—whither? She dares not think—dares not dwell upon her fearful situation. ”

“ An antelope stays its rapid course for an instant, upon the opposite bank, to gaze upon her with its pensive eyes, ere its hoofs, swift almost as light, ring a merry chorus as it speeds away, buoyant with innocent life. Truly it is a bower of beauty—a very paradise in the far distant wilderness. The spirit of evil should indeed forbear to set his foot or leave his serpent trail in a place like that. ”

“ The star that leads civilization westward shines sadly upon the graves of a people almost extinct—a people that have been hunted ruthlessly from their greenwood haunts till every year has seen their graves multiplying thicker and thicker in the wilderness. Then the Anglo-Saxon comes to plow it up and plant corn above the dead warriors, stooping now and then to pick up a stone arrow-head from his furrow, and examine it curiously, as if he did not know what soil his sacrilegious plow was upturning. ”

“ Is it true that angels guard us when we slumber, and, awake, leave us to temptation, and perchance crime? In the hour of darkness, is there an unseen, unknown power, that watches by our pillows, blunts the edge of the assassin’s knife, and turns the glittering steel aside? If such a power there be, (and who will dare dispute it?) then it kept watch and ward of the sleeping warriors of the Dacotahs—blood-stained and merciless as they were, in that almost unsheltered bivouac. ”

“ There was something so pitiful in the sorrow of the hardy frontiersman, so unusual and different from any that he had before seen, that Miles Morse felt that the accustomed common expressions of condolence would be entirely out of place, and wisely refrained from giving them utterance. Ah, when such men weep—when their strong natures are melted into tears, be sure the grief is deep, and far too sacred for human cure. ”

“ A scene like that the pen or pencil of man are impatient to portray. The Master Artist—God! upon the canvass of his own created world, has alone written it out.
Under one of those picturesque clumps of trees that broke the luxuriant monotony of the rolling grass-land, a corral of covered wagons had been drawn up for the night, and now stood with the canvass swaying in the breeze, circling a snowy little tent which had been pitched against the trunk of a noble tulip-tree, and stood beneath its deep-green branches like a great white bird rested on the grass. ”

“ Shaken in every limb—the victim of a double accident by his reckless horsemanship, and with his garments still wet and stiffened from the storm, he was forced to clamber up the rocks as best he might, with the dark shadows of coming evil gathering thickly around him. Weapon, save the one now partially discharged, he had none—the other was in the holsters; of food he had not a single mouthful, for the scanty remnant of his stores was also tied to his saddle. If he could not find the Indians—if his strength should fail him, he must abide that most horrible of all deaths—starvation! ”

“ The pale-face was false alike to his own tribe and that of Black Eagle. Go up on the mountain and look. The warriors speak angrily, their wounds are fresh. Had the tongue but traveled the trail of truth, there would have been no mourning and blackened faces in the wigwams of the Dacotahs.”
“That is nothing to the purpose. Will you either give me back my gold, or produce the girl?”
“The gold that the white man asks for is hidden where no eye but that of the Black Eagle can ever find it. If the false medicine of the tribe at Salt Lake wants the maiden of the snowy skin, let him find her.” ”

“ The border man looked upon women of this class as flowers that a rude hand like his would crush even in kindness—formed of far different and more celestial material than that which composed his strong arm and symmetrical limbs.
It is a truth that your daring Western frontiersman makes a refined woman his idol—a creature to work for, fight for, and die for, if need be, without a murmur. A smile from the beloved lips is ample payment for days and nights of toil, and a word of praise is reward enough for any danger that life can bring to him. ”

“ When the strong-willed and strong-armed man beats back the angry waves, bears the drowning victim ashore on the rocky heights of Patagonia, is it for rescue? See! poised on its light wings, a very spot in the ether, sails the hawk. His slender form is mirrored in the placid tide below, and his keen eye is watching for his scaly prey. There is a sudden dart, a plashing of the water, and a writhing body is torn from its native element, and borne aloft in the talons of the victor. But see, again! like an avalanche an eagle rushes through the startled air, from its lookout on the dry old pine. ”

“ Bright fires were already sending their smoke on high, wreathing in fanciful coils and drifting through the air, tinged with a glorious brightness like thunder-clouds when the sun strikes them. Busy mothers bent over the coals, preparing the evening meal, while their husbands wheeled the heavy wagons into a circle, and formed a temporary fort, calculated to protect them from attack from without, and stampede within. The air was soft, and the clouds mottled, dolphin-like, changing as the sun went down into deeper hues of crimson, gold and purple. ”

“ Many a time she looked anxiously back, thinking that she heard the clatter of pursuing footsteps; then finding that it was the echo of the hoofs that were so faithfully and swiftly bearing her on, a faint smile would ripple for a moment over her face, banishing the stern lines of anxiety and pain. But these gleams of incipient joy were transient as summer lightning, for reality stood too near with its stern danger. ”

“ Man, if you are a man, what terrible meaning is hid beneath your words?”
“The Dacotahs are masters of the prairie! When the moccasin of his enemies leave their print upon the trail, the warriors gather thick around like the buzzards. He has robbed the red-man of his lands and hunting-grounds—has driven the deer and buffalo away before the thunder of his fire-weapon. They starve for food—he has plenty. They long for the swift-footed horses—he has them by hundreds. ”

“ The pistol had been truly aimed, but its effects had proved far more fatal upon the man who fired it than on its intended victim. His horse sprung at the report, reared high, bounded upward with a desperate plunge, and threw the careless rider among the bushes that lined the narrow trail. Then, freed of his burden, and exempt from all controlling influences, he darted wildly down the mountain, his iron-armed hoofs ringing upon the flinty rocks, from which they sent forth a stream of flashing sparks.
The Mormon arose uninjured, and gazed wildly around him. ”