"With Sully into the Sioux Land" by Joseph Mills Hanson. Published by Good Press. Good Press publishes a wide range of titles that encompasses every genre. From well-known classics & literary fiction and non-fiction to forgotten−or yet undiscovered gems−of world literature, we issue the books that need to be read. Each Good Press edition has been meticulously edited and formatted to boost readability for all e-readers and devices. Our goal is to produce eBooks that are user-friendly and accessible to everyone in a high-quality digital format.
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Joseph Mills Hanson. With Sully into the Sioux Land
With Sully into the Sioux Land
Table of Contents
CHAPTER I THE SCOURGE OF THE BORDER
CHAPTER II THE FLIGHT THROUGH THE DARKNESS
CHAPTER III BESIEGED IN FORT RIDGELY
CHAPTER IV REFUGEES
CHAPTER V HOPE DEFERRED
CHAPTER VI ON GENERAL SULLY'S STAFF
CHAPTER VII UP THE MISSOURI
CHAPTER VIII PRAIRIE MARCHING
CHAPTER IX THE REVENGE OF THE COYOTES
CHAPTER X THE FORT ON THE RIVER
CHAPTER XI TRAILING THE HOSTILES
CHAPTER XII THE BATTLE OF TAHKAHOKUTY
CHAPTER XIII BESET IN THE BAD LANDS
CHAPTER XIV TE-O-KUN-KO
CHAPTER XV IN THE WAKE OF THE GRASSHOPPERS
CHAPTER XVI ADRIFT IN A BARGE
CHAPTER XVII CAPTURED BY GUERILLAS
CHAPTER XVIII THE DEFENCE OF GLASGOW
CHAPTER XIX REUNITED
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Joseph Mills Hanson
Published by Good Press, 2021
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For a moment Al was beside himself with grief and rage. His brother was being carried away under his very eyes, probably to torture and death, and he could do nothing. He ran out madly after the fleeing Indians, shouting senseless threats and waving his arms. But he dared not fire, for the last rider held Tommy, struggling fiercely in his iron grip, as a shield between himself and pursuing bullets. In a few seconds all the Indians had disappeared in the strip of woods and then Al remembered his mother and sister. He abandoned his futile pursuit and ran to the house, not even glancing at the dead Indian in the yard nor the one before the door. Rushing into the kitchen, he threw himself in a paroxysm of grief beside his father's body, crying out to him and vainly striving to discover a sign of life in the quiet face, already grown so peaceful under the soothing touch of death. At length, with dry, silent sobs shaking his body, he rose slowly to his feet, closed and locked the door, composed his father's limbs and spread a cloth over his face. Then he picked up the musket, got the powder horn and box of bullets from the shelf, and, with one last glance at the still form on the floor, ran swiftly through the house and out, striking directly down the slope toward the marshy ground along the creek.
