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854 > Page 854 of The romance and tragedy of pioneer life. A popular account of the heroes and adventurers who, by their valor and war-craft, beat back the savages from the borders of civilization and gave the American forests to the plow and the sickle ..

854 INDIAN TRAGEDIES AND ROMANCES. ruined by the rough journey through the mountains, had become rags and were held together by strings. The blankets were falling to pieces, while the nights were becoming exceedingly cold. What could be done ? A halt was ordered. General Howard and a companion had a team hitched to a rough lumber wagon, and started on a gallop, over a country literally covered with bowlders of every size and shape, toward Virginia City, seventy miles away. When the rough mining town was reached the traders w7ere made supremely happy. All the shoes, clothing, blankets, and provisions in the place were bought up. On his return to the camp with welcome supplies, General Howard says, "We found telegrams from the war department like the following: 'Where Indians can subsist, the army can live; continue the pursuit. If you are tired, general, put in a younger man and return to Oregon, but the troops must go on!'" The army did go on, on toward the south, on until the wonderful Geyser landscape, "with its vast seas of almost barren sulphur crust, was reached." Looking out over the waste expanse, the men discovered a black object, a speck. An hour's march enabled them to discover that the object moved. Another hour, and they discovered that it had the semblance of a human being, a man. He was breathless, hatless, almost naked, and nearly starved. His feet were wrapped in rags. His face had the wild aspect of a maniac. His hair and beard, long and disheveled, made him look like a wild man. His talk was almost unintelligible. "Indians, 0 God! I got away. 0 Heaven, the rest are killed, all killed." Continually repeating these words, he varied them only by vague and incoherent mutter ings. Farther on, the troops picked up another man. He was shot through both cheeks. The summer sun had scorched the wound, and inflammation had so swollen and discolored the surrounding flesh that the poor man's face had lost every aspect of a human countenance. His head, bloody and misshapen, looked like that of a monster. Swarms of flies gathered upon