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Show Yesterday morning, shortly after 9 o'clock information was received at the police headquarters that some Indians were raising Edward in the vicinity of Davis, Howe & Co's foundry; Seventeenth ward, and immediately, Officers Salmon and Smith were detailed to reconnoiter and watch their movements. Arriving near the scene of action the officers lay in ambush for a time, behind a large pile of boiler iron, taking field notes and studying the maneuvers of the enemy. They discovered that the foe numbered four, all told, two of whom were full of devilment and firewater. The leader of the onslaught and main depredator of the party was a large buck Indian with the pink-eye, clad in a mutilated ulster and a French opera hat with a hole in the top large enough to throw our respected friend of the Empire meat market through. He was gesticulating wildly in his native tongue and seemed bent upon doing something with his legs, the exact nature of which his legs were not fully conversant with. This was big Jim, the Droop eyed Trapper of Skull Valley. The second in authority was a dumpy little daughter of the primeval forest, with a form like a hogshead in a healthy state of intoxication and a long calico wrapper. Her hair was done negligee and floated proudly in the breeze, and she was executing a step made up of sundry movements from the Boston dip and all waltz. The third member of the party was a dirty little papoose of about ten summers, who clung onto the embroidery of his mamma's petticoat and bawled like a bull-frog; and the fourth was a small yellow dog which lingered in the background and barked disapprovingly. Meanwhile the pale-faced policemen advanced cautiously upon the intoxicated redskins and finally by a well directed and magnificently executed coup de grace, which showed how perfect, had been their plan of attack, the policemen came down upon the unsuspecting reds with one fell swoop, and in two minutes the enemy was theirs. Considerable difficulty was experienced in convincing the pink eyed son of the forest that he was in error and no end of ill feeling was engendered when the officer attempted to take him to the lockup. The policeman had to go and get an Indian interpreter who had to tell the Droop-eyed James that he was not going to the slaughter, but only to the calaboose, before he would consent to budge. However, when the matter was fully and satisfactorily explained to him by Interpreter Hill, the defiant representative of a fearless pedigree, gracefully accepted the situation and permitted the policemen, with the aid of the interpreter and a few private citizens to lift him into the job wagon in which he was conveyed to the cooler - the squaw and the papoose and the yellow dog remained behind howling like coyotes. Soon, however, the trio, arrived at the jail, followed by almost the entire juvenile resident population of the town. It was then found necessary for the public peace to incarcerate the squaw, who had grown more boisterous as she became drunker and a cell was selected for her on the opposite side of the jail from the one occupied by her lord and master. This act of cold unfeeling cruelty nigh broke the heart strings of the affectionate couple and so lacerated the feelings of the papoose, who was thus left an orphan pro tem, that he broke out in a wild unearthly yell that soon convinced the policemen it would be well to lock the young man up in the same cell as his mother. And now it was the yellow dog's turn. Having preserved to this period the utmost decorum, being guilty of no infraction of existing ordinances, the yellow dog could not legally be imprisoned. He was therefore left out in the yard and at the thought of being separated from the friends of his youth, the companions of his daily wanderings, the little fellow yielded himself up to the most poignant and soulful grief which found vent in a wild, weird wail, "like the sound of the lonesome wind blowing through the trees." It has not been found out from whom the Indians obtained their whisky. They were held in durance vile till 5 o'clock in the afternoon when the whole family folded their tent like the Arab and silently stole a blanket. - S. L. Herald. 16th. |