A TALE OF IDAHO.
cainpcd, in a thick forest a milo from
the river. It vu concluded to send out
Bomo of tho mot expert mountaineers
beyond the limit of tho storms, which
apjwared to have boon confined to the
6ummiU of tho mountains, to search for
the Indian traiL "Old Syc" wanted
the honor of being the most successful
scout, and did not inform any of the men
of the lay of the Capo Horn country.
Ho knew that many old Indian trails
united in the west end of that valley,
and choeo that point as his field of
(curd). He rolled up a sufficient supply
of food, in his overcoat, for a two or
three days' search, and tied it upon tho
hock of his saddle, and was soon out of
sight Traveling all day without ob
serving a trail or signal, ho camped
near some warm springs by tho river
bank, where he rested very comfortably
for n short time, and then continued his
march. I3y daybreak ho was on Valley
creek, and only twenty miles from the
objective point While riding along, all
the while thinking of poor Billy, and
meditating on how happy ho would bo
should his benefactor bo recovered alive,
sounds, as if some one were singing
Billy's bogle call in the distance, greeted
his ears. He listened a moment, but
nothing could bo heard, save tho wind
sighing as it passed through tho tree
tops. Again ho started, and again tho
singing could bo heard as before, and
certainly it was not Billy's voice. Dis
mounting and tying the horse, he nit
down and listened The third time tho
call was heard, and spjK-ared to 15 ahead,
among a few scattered bowlders, which
had rolled down from tho mountain side.
Soon a human form roso up, and with
tho aid of his field glass, he ascertained
that it was not that of an Indian, and
that tho person was also looking through
a glass. In a few momenta more they
had clasped hands. M Old Bye " said
M Weil, p&xd, you're a pretty nice
lookin' young feller, but durn tho luck,
yer ain't Hilly. That's my chum what
the d-d scoundrels took on tho head of
South Hoiso last week. Our company
of volunteers is cam pod on the Salmon,
and you'd better j'in 'em when we git
back, fur its a skittish country out hero
jest now. Oomo along with ma to Cajx)
Horn, and tomorrow we'll be on our way
back. Will ycr come? By jingo, yer a
bright lookin lad."
" Yes, sir, I will join your party, as I
have been looking for you. I am ato
in search of Hilly," and as tho broad
trimmed hat was rained, long trensea of
beautiful hair fell ujxm tho shoulders of
Ella Dixon.
" Well, durn my buttons, if yer ain't
a brick! Now let's go, and as yer ain't
got no horse, jVst ride mine, and I'll
walk."
M Mr. Sycamore, Hilly waa alive when
the Bannocks panned down this valley,
and wo must find him. Hero is letter I
found piuned to a bush by tho sido of
tho trail. I did not take tho liberty of
owning it, as it is addrensM to you."
" Sorry to say it, Mi, but I can't
rend; open it and rend it to row."
M Hero is tho address: '(Jive this to
Jonephus Sycamore, UiU'T kuown as
Old Syc, of tho Atlanta volunteers."
" Ojen it quick, Mi; that's him, sure,
and ho writ that to tan."
She read
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