Van Buren Press Crawford County, Arkansas September 14, 1875 THE ODD EXPERIENCE OF AN ARKANSAS DEPUTY MARSHAL Captain George W McIntosh was a brave officer, fighting on the Confederate side during the great struggle. The commanded the First Arkansas battery and did efficient work with it. Sprung from the old Scottish stock that never knew fear, the captain, while affable and peaceable in disposition, has the reputation of being a man of dauntless courage. When General Fagan was appointed United States Marshal for the Western District of Arkansas, Captain McIntosh who had served under him during the war was appointed a deputy marshal. The life of a deputy marshal in the Indian Nation is not pleasant, and he who accepts such service takes his life in his hands as it were, and courts death at every step. It requires men of strong nerve to undertake this service. Such a man Capt. McIntosh has the reputation of being. The captain is not exactly a puritan in religious observances. Nevertheless the following incident shows his moral qualities. On a wild night in the winter the captain was among the mountains of the Choctaw Nation. The cold was fast benumbing his limbs and he began to fear that he would never see the dawn. There were visible no signs of human habitation, not a gleam of light gladdened his eyes or dispersed the gloom around him. On through the darkness and the storm he rode. Eight, nine and ten o'clock came, and in the distance, he beheld the red gleam of fire-light. He pushed on, was soon at the cabin. It was the habitation of an Indian. He knocked on the door. An Indian of unprepossessing appearance opened the door. He spoke to him, asked him for shelter for the night. He received no reply. He told the Indian he was ready to perish from the cold, and was answered by a grunt. But he was not discouraged. There was a fire and comfort within and he pressed forward to the hearth, on which the glowing coals were scintillating. He sat down by the fire. There were four or five ill-looking aborigines sitting around. He felt uneasy and kept his hand upon his weapon. Not a word had any of them spoken. After a while an old man, who was apparently the head of the establishment, rose and brokenly pronounced the word "supper, " and pointed in the direction of a table in the only other apartment of the house. Still holding his pistol in his hand, the captain proceeded to seat himself at the humble table of his Indian host. The old man sat down, and when all were seated he devoutly bowed his head, raised his hands, and in the soft language of the Choctaws invoked the blessing of God upon the little group. "I never felt so good in my life", said the captain, "as at that moment when the old man with bowed head and uplifted hands besought the Almighty to bless and protect him, and all gathered about his board. My apprehension and suspicion vanished instantly. I arose, unbuckled my belt, laid my pistol aside and felt perfectly secure, and that night slept soundly." The old man was a Christian but could not speak English. The attitude of supplication conquered the captain's suspicion. Fran Alverson Warren P S* I am so thankful that some things NEVER change!