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Show TV Listings, May 16, 1985 Page 8 able to find the grave. I didnt know, however, if I would ever come this way again. The Indian in me had died with Red Leaf. wanted to go back to Missouri, to find the people had abandoned when I fled to the Rocky Mountains - the homeless Mormons. wondered if they had found a place to settle, perhaps in Ill- dove into the pond where they had little defense against arrows coming from both banks. Soon all was quiet. dropped my weapons, waded into the pond and swam to the lodge. A few minutes, with Red Leaf in my arms, returned to the shore where Brown Wolf was waiting, his face like stone. His love for Red Leaf had never faltered, not even when she married me. wondered if would ever understand the depths of this red mans heart. nodded for him to take her from me, to carry her to her final resting I I I I I After seeing my first two arrows hit their mark, the Indians were in no hurry to take any chances. No matter where walked along the shore, they made the appropriate adjustments to keep the lodge between me and them. They seemed content to wait for darkness when it would be easy for them to get to shore and disappear into the I night. The bow and arrows gave me a definite advantage in the daylight, but when darkness fell, that advantage would be neutralized. was beginning to think that maybe I ought to quit, untie their horses and leave while I still had the advantage. Thats when I noticed movements in the willows on the far side of the pond. An Indian was notching an arrow on his bow string. My first reaction was to dive for cover, thinking the Commanches had reinforcements. But there was something familiar about the new Indian. Yes. It was Brown Wolf. Not only had he escaped from the big meadow, but he had managed to pick up and follow the trail left behind by Red Leaf and me. He let the arrow fly, one of the Commanches screamed, and the other two I notched the By the time row, the Indians were out of third sight on At 30 feet of the far side the lodge. for were my bow, easy targets they but I could easily dodge their crude I spears. I ar- had them pinned down. Their only advantage was in numbers, three of them to one of me, and one of them was wounded. I paced up and down the bank, waiting for them to show themselves, or possibly make a break for the oppo- cut the strings on the site bank. other bows. In case they managed to get to shore, I didnt want any other weapons available for them to use against me. I I inois. remembered the first time I had heard Parley Pratt preach in Canada, when was 12. He had said something about the Mormons establishing the Kingdom of God on Earth, a kingdom of peace with a Christian government. I couldn't remember any of the details on how such a kingdom would actually be set up, but felt that maybe I could help in making such a thing happen. had had my fill of killing, hate and revenge. I I I I place. We located a grassy spot at the foot of a steep bank. After using stout poles to scrape out a shallow cave, we laid her gently in her final resting place on her back with arms folded across her stomach. We smoothed out her dress and straightened her legs, back, and neck to make her look as comfortable as possible. I I I Brown Wolf and I divided up the Commanche horses, each taking two. I unbridled the roan stallion so that once his hoof healed he would be free to join the wild horses. Brown Wolf headed north, intending to find the Utes before they returned from the summer buffalo hunt. I headed west, wanting to say goodto Ike before heading back to bye couldnt think of an appropriate sermon. Neither could Brown burial After kneeling beside the grave and just looking at her for a while, we dug our poles into the bank and pulled the dirt down upon her. Wolf. started looking about for a flat stone to fashion into a marker with her name on it, but Brown Wolf stopped me. He said if the Commanches found her grave, they would dig her up and scalp her. Instead of putting up the marker we camouflaged the grave with brush and stones. I took a good look around, however at the formation of the hills, the lay of the stream. If I ever came back this way, I wanted to be I This concludes Storm Testa ment Book I. We have enjoyed bringing you this adventure. The Tooele Transcript will feature Storm Testament II in editions of our TV Weekly. - up-comi- Although Caroline had never seen the Catholic militant before, she recognized him. immediately from the social events, weddings, garden shows the typical topics and lawn parties covered by female writers. Her front page story, however, was a totally different kind of article. It was late in October of 1844, a year of strife in Philadelphia, as nativ- Protestants clashed with immigrant Catholics from Ireland e-born and Europe. The development of coal mines west of Philadelphia in the early 1800s had opened the door for in- dustrial development. Philadelphia Chapter 1 Caroline Logan didnt know what to think when she read the note from Henry Sears of Sears and Chadwick Publishing Company. Sears and Chadwick was a successful Philadel- phia book publisher, and Caroline was a writer, but not a book writer. Yet Mr. Sears wanted to meet with her to discuss a special project. She had no idea what that project might be. In fact, it was just within the past few weeks that one of Carolines articles had finally made the front page of the Philadelphia Inquirer. She had been working there almost a year, one of three female writers covering industries produced clothing, iron, locomotives, machinery, ships, shoes and textiles. The rapid industrialization had at- tracted thousands of German and Irish immigrants. Competition for jobs between the newcomers and those already in the city, both blacks and whites, was fierce. Over thirty people had been killed in riots and street battles. It was a stroke of luck that Caroline had been drawn into the conflict and been able to interview Catholic rebel leader Sean OConnor. Sent by the paper to Germantown to cover a harvest festival, she had retreated to the secluded area at the rear of one of the exhibit tents to write her story when young Sean burst in on her, quite by accident, scattering her papers upon the ground. Wanted numerous posters throughout the city. Her first reac- tion was to scream, but she hesitated when the young man put his finger to his lips, signaling for her to be silent. He had scampered into the tent in an effort to avoid three constables walking through the exhibit area. It was probably OConnors bright smile more than anything else that prompted Caroline to hold back her scream. And he had plenty to smile about, too. Caroline was a handsome woman, taller than most, with long, blond curls tied behind her ears with a light blue ribbon. Her eyes were blue and clear, her complexion, smooth and healthy. She was 20 years old and had a trim but full figure. She was accustomed to men turning to look at her. The obvious absence of a wedding ring on her finger had nothing to do with lack of opportunity. In fact, she had developed a rather cool disposition towards men in an unconscious effort to discourage romantic interest. As a gangly teenager she had been silly about boys like the rest of her friends, but her first job changed all that. She was the only child in her family, and both parents worked from daylight until dusk in the textile mills, leaving Caroline with a lot of free time on her hands. Her earliest memories involved writing letters to everyone she knew, and often fictitious letters to people she know. She became a prolific didnt , ng At first, Carolines father figured her letter writing a useless hobby, childs play. But he changed his mind, suddenly, when at 15 Caroline landed a job copying letters for Lucretia C. Mott, head of the Ameriy can Society, founded in 1833. It wasnt long until Caroline was composing letters and working on flyers. Her writing skills developed quickly, but even more important, she had been exposed to a cause, a life and death struggle for freedom. A seed of idealAnti-Slaver- anti-slave- ry ism had been planted. Caroline seemed to sense that a marriage to one of her childhood sweethearts would pull her back into a routine, existence like that of her parents. No, she didnt want that. Not after a glimpse of what seemed to her a much more hand-to-mout- h meaningful and exciting world. Four years later, when she took the job as a reporter for the Inquirer, she moved closer to her work, into a brownstone apartment in Germantown. She was determined to keep men out of her life as she developed herself as a writer. Caroline hated covering garden shows and lawn parties, but figured a price had to be paid as she developed her writing skills. She kept reminding herself that someday she would write something great. Then she stumbled onto Sean OConnor, or he onto her. The beau- female tiful, educated, most with face face the to journalist notorious ruffian of Philadelphia a young bull, indomnitable, crude in his dress and manners, unwilling to take his hat off to any man. well-dresse- d - |