Contents

Lil' Sojar

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Title Saga of the Sanpitch Vol 07
Subject Pioneers
Description Stories and poems about early Southern Utah Pioneers
Publisher Snow College
Date 1975
Type Text
Format image/jpeg
Language eng
Rights Management Snow College
Holding Institution Snow College
ARK ark:/87278/s6154f64
Setname snowc_sts
Date Created 2005-02-26
Date Modified 2005-02-26
ID 325315
Reference URL https://collections.lib.utah.edu/ark:/87278/s6154f64

Page Metadata

Title Lil' Sojar
Description down carefully when he saw two frightened eyes looking up at him and a boy-ish face with a deep, jagged, and bloody wound across one cheek. A rusted and ancient rifle with part of the breech blasted away, lay near the boy. Evidently he had been hunting for food when the gun had exploded. It never occured to Andy that this was the enemy and he could have been the target as he dug clean, white rags from his saddle. With canteen in hand he again approached the wounded Indian, who tried to slither farther into the brush and high grass. With kind and assuring words, Andy at last got the young Indian to lie still while he cleaned the wound and added compresses to stop the flow of blood. With the wound clumsily dressed he gave the other a drink from his canteen. Brown fingers clawed desperately at the container, trying to wrest it from Andy's hands, but Andy held on. Evidently the Indian had been without water for some time. As Andy moved back to his horse, the Indian lay back in the grass, his eyes follwoing Andy's every move. What to do, Andy thought. Evidently the Indian would die, for the wound was badly infected. Well, it certainly wasn't his responsibility. This was the enemy. This bit of humanity at his feet was the one reason why he was on his way to join the Minute Men. He looked down. The young man's eyes were centered on the canteen, a wild and pleading expression that Andy couldn't ignore. Well, why not? It would be inhuman not to help when he could. Anyway, he would reach fresh water soon. Andy hoisted his short frame into the saddle, then rode close and drop-ped the canteen. The young Indian handed it to him; then, when he saw the work of art, a faint smile touched his lips. His fever-enflamed eyes expressed his gratitude. Andy sat motionless, looking down. This was the enemy, and the reason- able thing to do under the circumstances was to destroy the enemy. Instead he had given his last drop of water to a wounded Indian. Andy shrugged and nudged his horse. Oh, well, what was one wounded Indian more or less? Anyway, he was a young man, like himself. Captain Lyons looked across his desk at the young man standing at rigid attention and smothered his amusement by concentrating his atten- tion on the mass of papers before him. Enthusiastic young blood striving for expression, he thought. The prestige, romance and glory of being a soldier far outweighed the more realistic, mental and physical anguish associated with this necessary contribution to the history of the west. The dirty game of war attracted the unthinking, simply because it was part of the great adventure, yet he could not say no to the physically able, simply because the west needed this young blood, even though it took but a matter of minutes sometimes to strip the glory from teh pitiful realities, leaving life exposed like a raw sore. -43-
Format image/jpeg
Identifier 052_Lil' Sojar.jpg
Source Saga of the Sanpitch Vol. 7
Setname snowc_sts
Date Created 2005-02-19
Date Modified 2005-02-19
ID 325280
Reference URL https://collections.lib.utah.edu/ark:/87278/s6154f64/325280