Starlight Ranch, and Other Stories of Army Life on the Frontier. Charles King

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       Charles King

      Starlight Ranch, and Other Stories of Army Life on the Frontier

      Published by Good Press, 2019

       [email protected]

      EAN 4064066240073

       STARLIGHT RANCH.

       WELL WON;

       OR

       FROM THE PLAINS TO "THE POINT".

       CHAPTER I.

       RALPH MCCREA.

       CHAPTER II.

       CAVALRY ON THE MARCH.

       CHAPTER III.

       DANGER IN THE AIR.

       CHAPTER IV.

       CUT OFF.

       CHAPTER V.

       AT FARRON'S RANCH.

       CHAPTER VI.

       A NIGHT OF PERIL.

       CHAPTER VII.

       THE RESCUE.

       From "the Point" to the Plains.

       CHAPTER I.

       A CADET'S SISTER.

       CHAPTER II.

       A CADET SCAPEGRACE.

       CHAPTER III.

       AMANTIUM IRÆ.

       CHAPTER IV.

       THE WOMAN TEMPTED ME.

       CHAPTER V.

       A MIDNIGHT INSPECTION.

       CHAPTER VI.

       THE LAST DANCE.

       CHAPTER VII.

       BLACK CAÑON.

       CHAPTER VIII.

       CAPTURED.

       The Worst Man in the Troop.

       VAN.

       THE END.

       Table of Contents

      We were crouching round the bivouac fire, for the night was chill, and we were yet high up along the summit of the great range. We had been scouting through the mountains for ten days, steadily working southward, and, though far from our own station, our supplies were abundant, and it was our leader's purpose to make a clean sweep of the line from old Sandy to the Salado, and fully settle the question as to whether the renegade Apaches had betaken themselves, as was possible, to the heights of the Matitzal, or had made a break for their old haunts in the Tonto Basin or along the foot-hills of the Black Mesa to the east. Strong scouting-parties had gone thitherward, too, for "the Chief" was bound to bring these Tontos to terms; but our orders were explicit: "Thoroughly scout the east face of the Matitzal." We had capital Indian allies with us. Their eyes were keen, their legs tireless, and there had been bad blood between them and the tribe now broken away from the reservation. They asked nothing better than a chance to shoot and kill them; so we could feel well assured that if "Tonto sign" appeared anywhere along our path it would instantly be reported. But now we were south of the confluence of Tonto Creek and the Wild Rye, and our scouts declared that beyond that point was the territory of the White Mountain Apaches, where we would not be likely to find the renegades.

      East of us, as we lay there in the sheltered

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