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McCarter, Margaret Hill, 1860-1938

"Vanguards of the Plains"

Fastened on it was a scrap from Bill's note-book with the
words
Spring poisoned. Bev gone for water not very far on.--BILL.
So Bill had drunk the poisoned water and had tried to reach us. But for
fear he might not do it, he had scrawled this warning and left it here.
Brave Bill! How madly he had staggered round the place and threshed the
ground in agony when he tried to mount his poisoned pony, and his first
thought was for us. The plains made men see big. Jondo had told me they
could do it. Poor Bill, moaning for water now and tossing in agony in
Jondo's wagon! The Comanches had been cunning in their malice. How we
hated them as we stood looking at the waters of that poisoned spring!
Rex Krane's big, gentle hands were holding Bill's. Rex always had a
mother's heart; while Jondo read the ground with searching glance.
"We will wait here a little while. Bev will report soon, I hope. Come,
Gail," he said to me. "Here is something we will follow now."
A single trail led far away from the beaten road toward a stretch of
coarse dry yucca and loco-weeds that hid a little steep-sided draw
across the plains. At the bottom of it a man lay face downward beside a
dead pony.


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