Adventure Magazine, December 10, 1924 — page 101: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

The Homesteaders Mrs. Baker, carrying her youngest child, and standing back of Mrs. Jones, vanished as if by magic. The three were killed almost as quickly as one could count three. . As the shots rang out almost together Jones gave a leap and started to run, his gun not yet loaded. He almost reached 4 corncrib, three rods away from the house, when an Indian ran around the corner and shot him off his feet. This man was Brown Wing. He waved his gun and shouted— “Does the trader now say white men shoot straighter than the Dakota menp’’ Then he turned back to join his compan- ions. Without paying any attention to the woman in the wagcn, and without en- tering the house to search for Mrs. Baker and the two children—the oldest child lying on a bed in plain view—the Indians ran swiftly down the trail to overtake the man ahead. Stunned by the horrible sight, the un- armed spectators in the woods did not leave their hiding place until the Indians were running away. In truth, it was all over so quickly that the murderers had disap- peared in the trail before the three could shake off their stupefaction. Miss Martha was the first to break from cover. She ran to the cabin and entered without pausing to look at the dead men. She found Mrs. Jones dead in the chair. She heard Mrs. Baker screaming under the floor, and kneeled by the open trap door and helped her and the baby, both uninjured, to emerge. By this time Shanty Mose and Baptiste were at the wagon and were lifting out the woman. She was unharmed. Sobbing wildly, she managed to tell them she was Mrs. Viranus Webster and that the dead man was her husband. She also informed them that they had arrived from Wisconsin only two days before and had accepted the Bakers’ invitation to stop there while they looked about for a homestead. By the time she had completed the brief and pitiful recital and was trying to realize that husband and friends had been wiped out almost in an instant Shanty Mose had reloaded Baker’s gun and Baptiste had re- covered Jones’ weapon. Coming from the house with Baker’s gun, Mose called to Baptiste: “Harness the horses to the wagon. Get 79 the women and children somewhere away from here.”’ Miss Martha directed: “Drive them to John Blackwell’s. It’s only four miles. If no one’s at home go on to Nels Olson. If it’s safe to leave them there go on to Forest City and arouse the settlers and bring them here. If it doesn’t seem safe take the wagon to Forest City. Mose and I will go cn to the Jones place. Clara Wilson, Jones’ niece, must be there with her baby half-brother.”’ Without bothering to go to the woods for her horse she started along the trail at a swift run. Shanty Mose pounded along at her heels, and demanded— ‘‘Will we be in time, Miss Martha?” “Tf Clara doesn’t open the door. Yes. Jones always told her to keep the door locked when he and his wife’s away.” But they were not in time. When some distance from the place they heard the dull boom of a gun and feared the worst. When they reached the house there were no In- dians to be seen, but the glass in the store- room window was shattered. “Wait a minute, Miss Martha,” said Mose. And he advanced and looked in. Then he turned and told the waiting woman: “They killed her while she was looking out the window. She looks very young.”’ “Scarcely fifteen,’’ whispered Miss Mar- tha. “You must go in and look for the baby.” Handing her his gun and leaving her to stand guard, he went through the broken window. None of the Sioux had entered, although there was much liquor stored in the room. Entering the living room, he found the baby asleep on the bed. Coming out through the window—for Jones had locked girl and baby in when going to the Bakers’—Mose groaned and said— “This is a mighty sad business. Miss Martha.” “T shall always feel bad I did not have my bow and arrows,” she replied simply. ‘Could I have guessed in time I could have saved some of them without them. I am a medicine woman. They are afraid of me.” She took the eight-months-old child and for a moment; then asked: “Can you find your way back to the lower agency? Or shall I go and you take the baby to Blackwell’s place?” — Comicboolk Wh) C© 5}