Beadle's Half Dime Library (no. 1070) (1898 01 25)
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fn gn NTT hm TM, re Entered as Second Class Matter at the New York, N. Y., Post Office. opyrighted 1897, by BEADLE AND ADAMS, January 265, 1898. dk Fi Cents a Co > - : 7} ; iblished E No. 1070. ve Cen py BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, Pv very Vol. XLIL $2.50 a Vear. 92 Writ1aM Street, New Yor. Tuesday. NAT TODD; Or, The Fate of the Sioux Captive « « By Edward §. Ellis. CHAPTER I, , Thus commented Nat Todd, as the last sound of |T wish to make inquiries of the neighbors along 7 bee : } cc. the steamer, which bore away William Relmond| the way. I think I might pass for a red-skin A CROSS AND A CROWN, }and Imogene Merment, reached his ears. He stood} very well. That looks fine, pay: no doubt would ‘‘ Well, here I am, at last, alone in the woods! |!" the midst of that vast forest which stretches | impress Irene with awe, if she should see it,” and it’s a wonderful adventure I’ve started upon, | away to the west of the Missouri River. During continued Nat, taking off his plumes and suryey too! I, Nathan Todd, of Lubec, have come to the his stay among the Indians of the Northwest, he] ing them; ‘' théy don’t fit my head very well, but determination to make a search for Irene Mer-| )@d often conversed with Imogene Merment, the| they must answer till I get better ones; and it's ment, who, like enough, died ten years ago! No| c@Ptive, in regard to her lost sister. | Although | time I was moving. one believes she is living besides me; and what | She believed that the latter was lost forever, yet| So saying, our hero replaced his plumes and am I going to hunt her up for? As true as I the probability of her yet living was such as to} walked slowly away in the forest. The direction live, I believe I love her; and if she is ever found | Strengthen Nat in the determination to make a| which he took was such as to lead him to the I'll offer myself to her. search for her. -The only clew to guide him was] ‘‘ Death Rock,’’ from which he had started the re the suspicion of Imogene that the captors of her| morning before. The day was one of .the most * Relmond has found himself a wife, and I} sister had proceeded westward to Oregon, |} beautiful of the year. The air was darkened by don t see why I can’t. And if I do, won't that ‘* Let me see,'’ mused Nat, as he walked slowly | flocks of birds, circling overhead: vast droves of Sarah Almina feel bad when she finds it out? I| along. ‘' Here I am on the banks of the Yellow- | buffaloes may -be seen sporting on the plains or know she wanted to get me off here, so she could} stone,.and Oregon is quite a little distance away. |} thundering forward in innumerable herds. Now marry that Bill Hankins. It ain’t certain that Irene is in Oregon yet, and|and then immense numbers of horses may be
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2 seen, careering gayly over the prairie, as free and joyous as the wind, The forest arches echo with the notes of birds and the scream of the wild animal, while myriads of the beaver and otter are hard at work in the different streams. All is changed as if by enchantment. Such an appearance d'd the forest present as Nat Todd made his way through it. His sense of the beautiful was limited, and the bewildering scene around he took as a matter of course. excited over it. Once or twice he came in view of an antelope circling around him as if in sport, Finally, | becoming too reckless, it fell a victim to his rifle. ‘You might ’ve knowed better than to cross Nat Todd’s path, for he is a dangerous man, and ‘it’s | nothing short of suicide to get before his rifle. Bill Biddon could have told you that. I don’t feel very sorry, as lam amazingly hungry.” ‘ } As it was about noon, he halted and cut the choicest | | pede from the antelope for his dinner. This was oasted over a fire; he made a hearty meal from it, and in a short time he was on his journey again. Ju# as darkness was settling over the forest, he reached the *‘ Death Rock,” and crept into its dismal recesses. The night was cold, and he started a fire, although it was as much to cheer the loomy place as to afford him: any warmth, As the blaze flamed up on the rocky floor, it lightened up many a dark nook, and threw fantastic shadows into the for- | bidding rents that yawned around. Here and there a ghastly skull or bone gleamed in the firelight, and in some places the skeletons had been al- most undisturbed by ravenous beasts. As Nat lit his pipe and gazed around him, his thoughts brought more than one shudder to him, It seemed ‘he could see the doomed Indians clustered together on that fatal day, when the last one defended the entrance against the relentless besiegers. He could fancy the sullen, despairing gleam, as the solitary savage gazed behind him and saw his dead companions, and him- self the last remnant of his tribe; the lofty, heroical countenance of the warrior as he folded his own arms in death; the yells of baffled fury, as the be- siegers poured into the cavern and found not a vic- tim left them; and finally, the last scene of all, when the wolves swarmed into the cavern and completed the terrible work. The human bones, strewn for | sf feet from the Rock, showed what a wild car- nival the beasts of prey had held over their unwont- ed feast. But the night had not far advanced when this oer picture faded from our hero's imagination. n hour’s comfort from his soothing pipe made him drowsy and forgetful, and he was falling off into slum- ber, when he was aroused by hearing a deep growl near him. Starting up, he saw several eyeballs glowing in the darkness at the entrance of the cave, and could detect more than one pair of jaws gleam- ing and snapping eogether: position, he raised his rifle and sent its contents among them, There were several sha Ppa a@ con- fused scampering, and the next instan © passage was still as death. ** Positively no admittance, under any pretense whatever,’ said Nat, as he arose and passed to the mouth of the cave. ‘I’ve camped here before, and never like to be disturbed, so I'll close the door. Helio! hit you, did I?” This exclamation was caused by stumbling over the dead body of a wolf which had fallen in the en- trance, It was of the species termed the “ mountain wolf’’—the largest and most dangerous kind found in the West, Nat rolled it outside, where it was seized in an instant by its unfeeling companions, and in a half hour nothing was left of the unfortunate animal except a few shiny bones, over which the others wrangled for a much longer time, Nat, with a great deal of labor, rolled a huge rock to the en- trance, effectually barring it against all except hu- man intruders, and then returned to the fire. ere instead of weppong himself up in his blanket and lying down at once, he seated himself as if engaged in deep thought, e remained a long time, gazing apse into the embers before him, until, as was his habit, he commenced talking to himself. * There’s no use of thinking about it, for it’s so ust as plain as was them wolves’ oe awhile ago. Bill lmond used to pray every night and morning, and he’s gone through all safe and got a wife in the bar- ga That Imogene used to pray, and appeared to always thinking about heaven and the angels— that I'll bet are just like her—and she’s got a hus- band. Bill Biddon used to swear like blazes some- times, but I know I once heard him ask the Lord to take care of him. Well, here’s me, Nat Todd, goi on one of the greatest tramps that was ever invented, and if an wants taking care of it’s this same Nat Todd, and it ain’t noways likely the Lord will take any notice of me unless I ask Him to. So I'll do it, Tl pray to Him every rea go and night,”’ This good resolution arrived at, Nat did not hesi- tate to put it into execution. Kneeling on the rock he spent a time in earnest supplication, and then laid down to slumber, Several times he partly woke, as the snarling wolves fought and tugged at the rock which blocked up their way; but he not arise, as he felt secure. When the light of morning streamed into the eave, the brutes departed, Then he rose and made ready to continue his jour- ney. He had a portion of the antelope sufficient to make a breakfast, and enough ammunition to fur- nish him with all the food he would be likely to need for a long time to come. The weather still was pleasant; and with buoyant spirits he descended the mountain toward the e where he had first encountered Relmond, after his capture the Indians, “Tt habs Be whether I'll find it,” he mused. “If I Without changing his | It couldn’t | well be otherwise, and so he judged it best not to get | | can get that and a hoss, I'll, be fitted out, and won’t care for anything else.” He had seen as yet no signs of Indians, but pro- ceeded with extreme caution. During his a among his tribe, he had been allowed considerable freedom, as has been shown; but, now that Imogene had effected her escape, he knew a closer surveillance would be kept over him in case he should unwittingly come upon some of his captors. “T wish I had a hoss!” he exclaimed for the twentieth time. ‘I’m getting tired of this everlasting tramping. My gracious! what’s them?” As if in answer to his wish, he beheld, hardly a | hundred yards distant, two horses leisurely crop- ping the grass. A second glance showed both to oe furnished with Indian saddles and bridles, though they were much scratched and disarranged from their passage through the woods and undergrowth. “T thank the Lord for that,” said Nat, earnestly; “it’s a special providence that both are saddled, as I don’t like riding bareback, When one gets tired of | carrying me, the other cantakeaturn. Ah! they’re | the two hosses that Relmond told me got away from him and Imogene the other night. Yes! there’s her pony as sure as the world, I’ve often seen her with im, I must get him/” With this, he proceeded to capture the Indian ony, which, in reality, was the one once owned b mogene, This was exceedingly difficult, as the ani- mal had already scented danger, and stood ready to bound away in an instant. But Nat was equal to the difficulty, and at last seized the bridle and vaulted into-the saddle. ** Whoop!” he shouted, swingin, his head. ‘Three cheers for Nat Todd! He had secured a prize indeed. His horse was a coal-black pony, high-spirited, with clean, graceful limbs, and of gvee bottom. He was obedient, too, dashed away as merrily as if he en- his plumes over under rein, an joyed himself as much as his master, There’s only one thing more that I need, and I must have that.”’ Away his horse careered, as swift as the wind— now thundering up some swell in the prairie, now plunging headlong through the bushes, and then dropping into a walk as his patb led through the denser wood. Nat had left the mountain which contained the *‘ Death Kock,” and was journeying over a well-timbered country, crossed by innumer- able streams and patches of prairie. Late in the afternoon he reached the lake of which we have spoken. Here he dismounted, and leading his horse a short distance away, secured him, while he made a search for hiscanoe. He found it just as it had been left. Springing into it, he shot rs ie toward the opposite shore, It was a long pull, and it required an hour to reachit, As the canoe grated on the sand, he sprung out and hur- ried away a short distance, when he halted beside an old rotten chestnut. His manner was excited, and he breathed eon oe he plunged his hand into a rent in the side, hile feeling around in the dark- ness, his eye suddenly sparkled with exultation, and he exclaimed: “T've got it! whoop! I've ae it)” He hauled out into the light his—old fur hat/ CHAPTER It. NAT’S FIRST ADVENTURE. “Yuna, I've got it! I've ~ot it!’ exclaimed our hero, in his joy. "Nobody L.sn’t disturbed it. There! that's the last of you!” he added, as he dashed his gaudy plumes to the beige Then, placing his own cool hat on his head, he continued? “O-h-h-h! ain’t that nice!—Jerusalem !” It was no wonder at all that he uttered the last ex- clamation, for at the first turn in the walk he had commenced with his recovered prize, his eyes en countered the chief of the very tribe he had left! The savage was scarce a dozen feet distant, and had been watching him all the time. Nat recovered his equanimity in an instant. ‘How are you, Upsarena? Glad to see you—(no I'll be hanged if I am.) Hope you're well—(no, I don’t, either,’’) “The Long Knife hunts a great while!” replied the chief, without noticing his words. “Well, yes, twas quite a spell. Hope you haven't been anxious on my account,” The chief gazed steadily at him a moment, and then said; “The Long Knife will go to the lodges of Upsare- “Wait, hold on, you; I've left my--my—I've left my eign ti: on the other side of tne Jake, and must go get it.”’ Before rena could make a reply, Nat reflected that he had told a falsehood; and thus violated the vow he had made the evening before. He resolved at once he wouldn't lie to save his life. ‘* No, Upsarena, I haven’t left my pocketbook, but I have tied my horse on the other side of the lake and I would ‘not like to go to your lodge without pen because he’s a horse that'll make your eyes ngle.”’ the Long Knife had no horse when he sought the woods.” “* But he found one there.” The Indian gave our hero one of his piercing ns and the latter saw at once that he was dis- ev! *“Upsarena will go in the search?” said the chief- tain, quietly. Now this was as much dreaded by Nat, and was the first determination the chieftain ex. s and how to rid lf of his trouvLlesome visitor puzzled him greatly, But he was equal to the emer- geney. Fortunately, he had been so excited in his A rertomian peawnddhe with his horse on the cuvcere side of the lake, With- out waiting as long as it has taleen us to record it, he answered: Ht spas x on, then, Upsarena, for it will soon be dark.” He led the way, followed by. the wary chieftain, who watched him as if he expected mischief. Na moet the canoe into the water, steppped in an seated himself in the forward part, although by do- ing so he used the long paddle at a considerable dis- advantage. Upsarena seated himself in the stern with folded arms, with his rifle resting on his up- gathered knee. The canoe sunk to its very gunwales, but Nat im- elied it through the water with velocity. His heart t quicker, as he reflected upon the expedient necess to get rid of his companion. Several times he thought of shooting him, as he sat so grimly and complacently in the stern, watching every move- ment; but he was prevented by several reasons, The first was, his soul revolted at the thought of such a murder, even though it might add to his personal safety; the second reason was, that if murderously inclined, he had no rifle with him; and the last one was, that even if he possessed a weapon, he was afraid to use it in the manner mentioned—all of which proved that Upsarena was in little danger of being shot at present. Now and then he glanced furtively over his shoul- der, as he neared the shore of the lake, while the grim chieftain remained as stern and immovable asa statue. Hitherto the canoe had glided as smoothly as a bird; but suddenly, when within a hundred yards of the shore, it careened, capsized, and be- fore the wily savage suspected mischief, he was in the water swimming for life. Just as the boat turned, Nat sprung to his feet and made a tremen- dous leap toward shore, striking out with all his might to reach it before his companion, His strata- em succeeded to a charm, 6 water, about ten eet in depth, was so clear that the smallest object was distinctly visible onthe bottom. Before Upsare- na could grasp his rifle it sunk. Unwilling to lose it, he immediately dived forit, He saw it glistening on the pebbly bottom, but failed to recover it the first time, owing to the shortness of breath with which he descended. A second effort was more successful, and he rose to the surface with the cherished wea- n in his hand. At this instant Nat emerged from he water, and made some ‘“‘tall walking’ for his horse. He found the animal as he had left him, vaulted into the saddle and sped away. “* Good-by, Upsarena!’’ he shou “ Remember me to the folks upin your parts; and now and then remember Nat Todd, and the nice swim you and he took together.” But Nat’s exultation was PRODARE GS for, as the last word escaped him, and he swung hat over his head, several rifles flamed from the forest behind him, and as many bullets whizzed through the air in close proximity to his body. ‘* Jerusalem! Who fired them? That’s more than J bargained for!" The truth was, the upsetting of the boat haa been witnessed by three sav of Upsarena’s tribe who had been hunting with him. 1ey supposed it to be purely accidental, and knowing there was no danger to either, stood and calmly watched the strug- ples of the two, When Nat emerged and hurried wu e bank, however, their suspicions were arouse and they dashed after him. en they came in view again, the audacious whive was galloping away, shouting and swinging his hat in the manner p Pdi ed, Their suspicions were confirmed, and the three fired, without wating for their chief. The latter soon was with them, and, brandishing his rifle over his head, furiously commanded the capture of the white man. Forsetting himself, Upsarena raised his own rifle, took and pulled the trigger. But the click of the lock reminded him that, for the present, his weapon was harmless, “His scalp must hang in Upsarena’s lodge at the rising of the sun!”’ he shouted, bounding forward in pursuit, Nat, if he did not hear them,.gnessed the truth and judged it best not to dispute with the chief about the matter. “Come, my hoss, let’s see what kind of stuff you're. mane “ if sensible of what red, e pony, as if se e of what was requi burst forward like a thunderbolt, leaving the pur- suers rapidly behind. The lake at the foot of the mountain was fringed by masses of unde wth, together with trees of considerable’ size. ing himself from this cover, he emerged upon a rolling longer. Nevertheless, he was not the man to remain, in danger when the opportunity was afforded for es- caping it. So he loosened the rein and let his horse £0. e last glimpse he cast behind him showed him e dusky figures of the savages far in the rear, on @ hill, stan together as if in consultation. “T thought you'd come to your senses,” he re marked, ‘and not spend your breath in trying to catch what can't be caught.” Feeling thus secure from danger, our hero drew his horse down to a walk, and made his way leisurely forward. -The night was cold and windy. There was no moon; in a short time the darkness became so heavy as to vail everything in almost impenetra- ble obscurity. After journeying an hour more, he descended a sort of valley and found himself in the midst of a grove of cottonwoods. ‘The sound of running water shove him what sort of a place he had cop” Vpon-
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o--- | and he decided at once to camp for the night.* He | led his horse a short distance up-stream and picketed | him in such a manner that the least effort made to | escape could not fail to arouse the hunter, This | done he probe off a good quantit, of the cotton- | wood bark, and laying it within reach, made prepar- | ations for his own comfort. Under the circum- stances, it was too hazardous to risk a fire, and he | was content to nestle in his blanket at the foot of a huge willow, Sleep, heavy and sweet, gradually overcame the hunter, and in a short time he was as unconscious | of external things as if he had never been born. It was near midnight when he awoke. What it was that aroused him he could never tell; but he had grown to believe there was a Vee Providence | watching over him, and attribu it to that alone. It; sometimes happens that in the midst of heavy slumber our senses are quietly but instantaneously aroused, and it was thus with our adventurer. Be- fore he hardly knew it himself; his eyes opened, as did every sense, He lay perfectly motionless and listened.’ The wind sighed mournfully through the tree-tops above him, and the stream rippled as sweetly as ever. Still, he did not stir, for he felt the danger that was lurking in the air around him. The next instant he was startled by the snapping of a twig, as though the foot of some one passing | had broken it, and a minute after he heard voices! They spoke in the tongue of the Sioux, and he thus knew they were his pursuers. ““The Long Knife has cam here,’’ spoke one, as | if in consultation with the others. “Has he not pegs through the stream and fled onward?” asked another. “The trail leads to the trees and is lost. It is not on the other side.” A few moments’ silence followed the latter remark. Then the savages recommenced their search. With feelings that may well be imagined, Nat shrunk be- neath the sheltering tree and listened. Now the eautious tread came nigher and nigher, until it seemed discovery was inevitabie. Then again the sounds grew fainter and fainter, until he began to breathe freer, when a shiver ran over him as he heard the deep breathing of one of his enemies within striking distance. How his horse escaped discovery he was at a loss to tell; but in such cases it often seems the instinct that protects the animal is equal to that reason that saves the man. It ap- pears incredible that such brutes as horses and cows ean conceal themselves so as to baffle discovery even under the light of day. But that such is the fact is well known, The horse, apparently sensible of his duty, re- mained in a standing position as motionless as the tree beside him; and thus was no more likely to at- tract attention in the deep gloom than an inanimate object. Thus it was the cautious Indians fairly brushed him several times without_so much as sus- pecting his existence. Another thing puzzled Nat reatly. How was it possible for them to detect his rail in the darkness? Sight surely could avail noth- ing in such an emergency. ‘The all-fired imps have come on their hands and knees all the way, smelling of the trail,’ he muttered, to himself, The true cause was soon evident, however. Even while speaking, he saw a small point of light glide silently forward and disappear on the opposide side of the stream. In a second, it flitted to view again, and then was quickly extinguished. Almost imme- diately, a noise, as if some one were stepping in the water, was heard, and then followed a silence of five minutes’ duration. While wondering with a fear which was not free from superstition, Nat suddenly dueked his head, as a torch blazed to view within thirty feet of him, Looking carefully out, he saw the toreh movin io and Bi and lighting up the gleaming, painted v: e of Upsarena. he savage was in a etoaahing position, moving as stealthily as the ther, his eyeballs glowing like fire. * How nice L could wipe you out!’ thought Nat, “but I forbear. It don’t look right to take a fellow so unawares. Jerusalem! don’t come any nigher! The Indian was now so close that Nat feared the thumping of his heart would betray his hiding-place. The chief held the toreh over his head, his basilisk | eyes scrutini the ground for any evidence of a | trail. He moved slowly and stealthily around, some- | times stopping and moving the grace with his fingers and then, raising to the upright position, he up into the trees, as though he expected to detect the form of his foe among the branches. He must have had a small opinion of our hero’s ages 4 to thus expose himself to his shot. Suddenly the light peared, and a sharp, hissing sound, as of a ser- pent about to strike, did not escape the adventurer’s ears. The next moment the voice of Upsarena was heard. “The trail reaches the stream, but does not cross. He has followed the water, and is not here.’ Then the tramp of the retreating savages was heard, growing fainter and fainter, until no noise remained to show that danger had lurked so fearfully near. “Well, I feel a heap better!” exclaimed Nat, ris- ing to his feet and stretch: himself. Them ain’t very smart Indians, after They’ve been follow- ing me all the time I've been asleep, and have hunt- so rn ig a me yor A coming to the point. I i) psarena wasn’t—” een ott in relief against a patch of open sky, Nat saw the form of an Indian distinctly outlined. The truth was the words of Upsarena were only an artifice to ascertain whether the hunter was con- * Whenever ns rest for the night they are said 4o “camp;" and as the term is in the West, it @ as applicable to a single person as to more, | the Indian Nat Todd. cealed in the vicinity. He uttered them in a loud tone, and immediately ascended the stream, while another savage glided forward a short distance, and then halted, his ears on the alert for any suspi cious sound, The long-drawn yawn and words of Nat reached his ears, but the obscurity was too great for him to detect the precise spot where the hunter was standing. At the same time, the Indian was not aware that he was seen at all by his enemy. For a moment both remaine sat motionless. That time was amply sufficient for Nat to collect his thoughts. The sudden stoppage of his words showed that the hunter suspected danger, although he was by no means aware of his full knowledge. For a few seconds after the discovery, our hero was completely astounded; but it was_no | time to give way to his emotions. Seeing that either one or the other must die, he naturally preferred it should not be himself, and made his preparations ac- cordingly. Putting the lock of his rifle under his hunting-shirt, he so muffled the click, while cocking it, as to suppress the sound. With the Indian, the minute had been as pregnant with emotions as with the white man, Pris first thought, when startled by Nat’s words, was to signal his companions to iy eh aster but he saw that such a course would give the hunter timely warning, and being an ambitious man, hé determined to secure his scalp without aid. Nat saw the head of the Indian slowly sink, and his body gradually blend with the undergrowth. Taking as good aim as the darkness allowed, he fired, A yell of agony and fury, so horrible as to craze the hunter, followed, and the hurrying tramp of feet was heard. Hardly conscious of what he did, Nat ran a short distance and brought up against atree, which he ascended in a twinkling. Covering among the limbs he listened. All was as silent as death. Once a faint, suppressed moan was heard, but nothing else save the sighing of the wind and the ripple of the stream disturbed the oppressive still- ness. A faint moon had now arisen, and its light illumined the prairie for a short distance. But the stream, the trees and valley were like a solid mass of darkness winding across the country, and although he strained his vision to the utmost to pierce the gloom beneath, it was all in vain. With a great deal of difficulty, he succeeded in loading his rifle, and anxiously waited for further developments of dan- ger. In a half-hour, something was seen to flit like a star among the bushes below, and a second glance Alka our hero that the torch was again in requisi- on, ‘**Tt’ll never do for them to bring that candle under this tree,” muttered the hunter. “They'd just as sure get a gin pae of me here, Strange! ey’ve no more fear of me than to show themselves, that way. Well! it’s time they learned a lesson, and I don’t know of a person better qualified than Nat Todd to give ’em one. I wish that plaguy Indian would just hold still till I can draw bead on him,”’ All this time he was dodging his head around, hur- riedly pushing the muzzle of his rifle through the branches, and doing his utmost to get a sight at the savage holding the torch. she to do this, and the light Sonatas approaching his hiding-place, he at last became so excited as to entirely forget himself, “Say, you hong look out for your head now—” Instantly the light became stationary, and the bronzed features of a savage were seen for a second, when all was darkness again—but not before the rifle of our hero flamed out in the darkness, with no effect save to desperately frighten his enemies, each scattering to cover as quick as thought, Fortunate- ly for Nat, the flash of his weapon was not seen, and his hiding-place remained as great a mystery as ever to his foes, An hour of undisturbed stillness followed. The hunter was too shrewd to be deceived by the silence of the Indians. That they were plotting some new mischief was certain, and all that he could do was to do nothing but to lie close and keep a bright look- ou t. Despite the fearful circumstances in which Todd was placed, a heavy drowsiness began to steal over him. First he gave a sudden nod, bumping his head against the tree, which thoroughly awakened him, “T really believe I was going to sleep,” he gasped, ‘* with them imps eee, right under me. I won't wink both eyes again to-night.” To enforce this good resolution he pinched him- self, pulled his hair, and resorted to every artifice at hand, Finally, he began speculating upon the end of his presentdilemma, He must be out of it pretty soon by some means or other, or his case would be hopeless. The morning could nof be far off, and when his situation became known, an unconditional surrender would be the only course left. A similar situation and such thoughts certainly were enough to keep any ordinary mortal awake. But sleep is as insidious an enemy as death. Do his utmost, Nat could not keep him off, and he succumb- ed at last. “The Injin’s all right, I guess—so’s Nat Todd—all right— clever fellers—’s all right!” hus he mumbled, as he commenced nodding in. Finally he laid his head on the limb before m, closed his eyes, and resigned himself to his dreams. And the dreams came, and his sleep was disturbed. He fancied he was in a hand-to-hand struggle with Upsarena, and made an effort to give him a kick. In so doing he unseated himself and dropped to the und, His rifle falling upon him, effectually awoke him, and he instantly compre- hended his situation. He lay quietly for a mo- ment, and then felt cautiously around for his hat, Placing this on.his head, he grasped his rifle and then roy his eyes and looked about. His blood froze with horror as he saw two mon- 3 strous eyes, seemingly of some dread animal, within a foot of his face! A row of white teeth gleamed still closer, and the hot breath of the monster mingled with hisown. Nat closed his eyes and shud- deringly awaited his fate, He felt the breath grow warmer, and heard it drawn louder as though his foe were gathering to strike, He uttered ashort prayer, and believed that all was over. Something warm touched his cheek, as though an animal were lickin it. He opened his eyes again and saw that he tf fallen at the feet of his horse, who was thus mani- festing his affection for his master, “T've a good notion to shoot you for scaring me so,” muttered Nat. ‘‘ No, bless your old heart, you're just the one I want to see.” He quickly cut the thong that bound the horse leaped in the saddle, and turning the animal’s heac toward the open prairie, started him on a full run; The inevitable shout and swing of the hat accom- panied this movement, but there was no answering yell from the savages. They were at that moment several hundred yards up-stream, and caught a shadowy glimpse of a man galloping away in the darkness, as his triumphant shout reached their ears, One of their number had fallen and their intended prey had escaped, There were a few stars in the sky, which was gradu- ally lighting up with the approach of day, as he hur- vied his horse away from the grove. The air was cold and raw—the scene cheerless and dismal; but his spirits were too much hightened_by his fortunate escape to notice this peculiarity. Hegave his horse free rein, gradually sheering him off to the left until he was proceeny in a northern direction. When he left the grove he had follewed the back trail, so that his last course was taken to regain the lost ground, After a time he made another turn at right-angles to the one which he was pursuing, in such a manner as to describe a semicircle, Asthe first rays of the sun appeared above the prairie, he reached the identical stream which had yeen the scene of his adventures bag the night, but at a point several miles above. Making his way through the grove he once more dashed out upon the open prairie, and was galloping onward toward the Rocky Mountains, oe Me CHAPTER Il. SHOWING THAT WE ARE NEVER TOO OLD TO LEARN, Tuus far Nat Todd had journeyed without follow- ing any definite course or plan. The all-absorbing object which led him westward was sufficient to make one of his temperament attempt any journey on the North American continent; but, as he said, he laid down no course to follow, in order to attain the end. Now, as he reined his horse down to a slow walk, he commenced meditating upon the proper course for him to pursue, He reflected that he had been guided up to this int by a mere whim. A suspicion of [Imogene erment, that the tribe who captured her sister had yroceeded to Oregon, had wh to engi 3 cer- inty, and he had suffered himself to be blindly led by it. For aught he knew, she might have been taken to Southern California or New Mexico, and it was as probable that she was in the possession of one of the hundred tribes of the South-west as of the North-west. Over that mighty area of country, com: apt edapaenn twenty degrees of latitude, and exceed- ng in extent all the States east of the Mississipi, roamed thousands of Indians, any tribe of which might hold the object of his journey; and the val- leys of the Columbia, Sacramento, or Colorado, or the slopes of the Cascade, Humboldt river, Sierra Nevada, or Black Hills, might be searched without giving him intelligence of the lost one’s fate. This gigantic undertaking our hero fully realized, and de- termined, if possible, to hunt no further without some clew to assist him. Scattered at great distances along the Oregon trail, and on the rivers west of the Rocky Mountain slope were forts or stations, where, at all times were con- : ted hunters and trappers from every part of the Far West. Nat doubted not but that he would be able to ee information from some of them which would guide him in his search. ‘Yes, that’s the plan,” he exclaimed, joyously. “1'll go down to the forts and find out all about her, and then hunt her wp, take her home and marry her, Then won't Alminy feel bad! Won't she!” The morning was now quite advanced, and he con- cluded it best to give his horse a good rest, and re- fresh himself before proceeding further. He had noticed, for the last hour or so, a peculiar dull, roar- ing sound, like the distant roll of the ocean, and was led to suspect he was near some river. Turning his horse to the left, he had proceeded but a mile or so. when he came upon a small river, which he knew a once to be the Big Horn. It was narrow, but dee and clear, flowing swiftly over a bed of pebbles, that could be seen glistening far out from the shore. The water, hardly free from the snow of the mountains, was of icy coldness. The grass along its banks was luxuriant, and Nat turned his horse loose, knowing that he would not wander far, while he busied him- self with boning some food for himself. Singularly enough, he could not catch sight of any 6, not even a fowl or a rabbit. Fish of monstrous size could be seen lazily floating in the stream, but it was out of his power to secure them, and he finally made a breakfast off the numerous commotes and pommeée blancs that were growing around him.* ‘This done, * The commote is a vegetable resembling the com- mon radish, which is often found in the iver hottasia of the West. The pomme dlanc isa native of th mountains, and much resembles, both in size and taste, our turnip, although more n the
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ee he returned to his horse and started a fire. There were numerous trees growing in the river bottom, and he had little apprehension of disturbance from Indians. The air, sweeping down from.the Black Hills, was as cold and bracing as winter, and he vast- ly enjoyed the fire he had kindled. While preparing to resume his ening he was startled by the actions of his horse. He had raised his head, his mouth still full of grass, and, with every demonstration of alarm, was gazing up the stream. His ears were thrust forward, his fore- feet planted firmly on the ground, his nostrils dilated as though he scented danger in the air. Nat bound- ed to cover at once, and concealing himself behind a tree, peered cautiously out to ascertain the cause of these actions. The alarm of the horse continued. He suddenly curned and ran a short distance, when he wheeled around with a snort and faced the suspicious object again. A slight wind was blowing from that direc- tion, and Nat well knew his animal was not deceived. His heart beat faster as he reflected that a band of hostile Indians or a grizzly bear might be stealing upon him, and he silently cocked his rifle, deter- mined to fire and then run for life. While standing thus, every nerve strung to the highest point, he saw a human head, surmounted by a coon-skin cap, slowly rise from behind a clump of bushes, until the face and shoulders of a white man were visible. It remained a moment in this posi- tion, and then quickly disappeared. Nat saw the features too plainly tobe mistaken. They were those of one of his own kin, and of one who was consc- quently a friend. Without hesitation he called out: “Hello, you, sir! Come out and show yourself! It’s me, Nat han Todd, of Maine. Don’t be scart; I won't hurt you.” A moment after, the person addressed stepped boldly into view and advanced toward the _ fire, where our hero met him. A glance showed the stranger to be a trapper from the mountains. His dress was half-savage, similar to those generally worn on the frontier—composed of moccasins, leg- gings, the hunting-shirt, and the skin cap, which was drawn down to the beetling eyebrow in front. A thick grizzly beard covered most of the face, so that little besides the gleaming eyes and the pug-nose was visible. A long, dangerous-looking rifle was held in the left hand, while the right was extended to grasp the proffered one of our hero, ‘* How-de-do,”’ exclaimed the latter. ‘‘ Glad to see ae Hope your folks are all well. Jam, and you ook as though you might be.” ‘What's your handle?” asked the trapper, in a voice that sounded like the rumble of thunder, and which made Nat start from where he stood. “ What's the matter?’ asked the stranger, as his eyes sparkled, ‘Nothin’, only I are on a pin or a tack that some one left here—that is, I stepped on something. What's my name, did you ask? Nathan Todd—Na- than Todd—Oh, heavens o’ nath! don’t squeeze my fingers so! What's your name?” “Tom Langdon, trapper and Indian-fighter.”’ “So I s’pose—so I s’pose. What are you doing here, if you have no objections to tell a friend?” “Pm trappin’, This ar’ the place whar I've cir- c’lated for the last ten year, and it’s the fust time I’ve see’d a white in these parts. I’d jest been ‘round to ‘tend to the traps and skin the cotched sight of your smoke—”’ **T hain't been smoking—I hain’t been smoking!” * But your fire has. Isee’d the smoke, as I’s sayin’, and knowed it war a white; and a powerful green one at that, cause you wouldn't cotch a red kindlin’ a fire right under my nose that way. They've been down in these parts once or twice since I’ve trapped and I’d never knowed it ef I hadn't smelt ‘em. I see’d yer horse pitch and tear, ‘cause he scented the beaver-blood I’ve got on me, But what brings you down in these parts? Not trappin’, I take it?’ “*No; I’m searehing for a lovely maiden that was lost many long, sp) years ago. It would be difficult to describe the expression that {illumined the visage of the trapper at this reply. flis monstrous beard nearly concealed it, but there was J blending of surprise and drollery in it, and he asked: “How come you to lose her? And what makes you think you'll find her in this region? I never nowed was circulatin’ here.” Nat related, as briefly as possible, his own _adven- tures and those of William Relmond since leavin the States, dwelling particularly upon the history o Imogene Merment and the supposed fate of her lost sister. The Sapper listened, and, at its conclusion, gave vent to a silent but peerey laugh. im dg you laughin’ at?’ asked Nat, indignantly. ‘ ou, , ‘* What have I done, I should like to know?’ “Oh © pander so powerful green /” replied the-trap- per, still laughing. Nat held a dignified silence until the mirth of his companion had somewhat abated, when he inquired: vg ion I going to have you for company?” “ef yer waits yer’ till about two months more, and then turns your nose toward the States and tramps, p'raps you mought.”” * Jerusalem! if I had knowed that I would have been ten miles further on my journey by this time.” With this, our hero turned and si ed his horse to approach. The trapper look d quietly on, and suffered him to mount without s ng. “as Good-day, sir,” said Nat, nodding stiffly. **] shouldn't wonder,” returned the trapper. Nat struck his horse into a canter, and had pro- cree about a hundred yards, when he heard him- self hailed. ithe ad wanting?” he asked, wheeling his horse aro avers, when I Half-Dime Library. * Jest trot this way a minute,” said the stranger. Nat slowly approached, and in a moment confront- ed the eccentric hunter. “Got a piece of pigtail handy?” asked the latter. Nat was so provoked that he knew hardly what to reply, but proffered the tcbacco which he had ob- tained from the Indians. The trapper took the plug, twisting a small piece from it. Then holding it out, ‘he asked: “'That’s ‘nough for a chaw, ain’t it?” ‘**T s’pose so.” “Wal, you take it, then.” So saying, he coolly placed the larger piece in his pocket, and turned his back upon Nat, The latter sat like a statue for the space of five minutes, alter- nately looking at the remnant of his tobacco stock in his hand, and atthe one who had deprived him of it. Then, with a half-suppressed “What an awful hog!’ he once more cantered away. “Hello, Nathan Toad!’ bawled the trapper, when he had proceeded even further than before. Our hero cantered on without heeding. ‘*Hello, you, Nathan Toad!” came again, in a thundering voice, “What do you want?” asked Nat, spitefully. ** Jest come here a minuteé.”’ Had he deemed himself fairly out of rifle-shot, no commands would have brought him back; but, not knowing what his new-found acquaintance would take into his head to do, he concluded it hardly safe to tempt him too much, ‘* Well, here I am again,’ he said, as he once more confronted his troublesome companion. “I hayen’t any more tobacco to spare, though.” The Apps, bending his keen gaze on him, asked: * You're lookin’ fur a gal, ain’t you?” ‘Por a maiden—yes.”’ ‘““And you haven’t axed whether I didn’t know nothin’ *bout her,” Nat started, for the idea of obtaining information of the person before him had never entered his mind until he had thus been reminded of it; and he saw, moreover, that the trapper was in earnest, ‘“My gracious! I never thought of it—that’s true! Do yi yu know any thing of her?” “ Tes.” ‘“ When ?—how ?—where?—what did you say—who’s got her?—when did you see her?’ eagerly asked Nathan, fairly beside himself. ‘Jest hold on now. Let—me—see,” slowly re- Pe the trapper, removing his cap and scratchin 1is head, as if to help his memory, “I’ve heard o a gal somewhat’, but you may raise my h’ar ef I can tell whar’ it was.”’ * You don't say! Can’t you remember?’’ excited- ly asked Nat. ‘Think hard; you'll recollect in a minute. I'lLdie if I don’t find out something now.” ‘Nathan Toad,” said the trapper, looking up in his face, ‘‘the minute you told me that story, I knowed some one had told me sunkthin’ like it, and I tried to think whoit war. { called yer back and axed yer fur that pigtail, aoe co see how you'd take it. Ef you’d been mean, I wouldn't said nothin’ to ou about the gal; but you’s pretty clever like, and *ll try and overhaul this memory of mine. Let—me —see,”’ i, moe the big g 9 — fixing his eyes on the ground and thinking intent af ““She’s a splendid-loo maiden,” quickly added Nat, as if to assist his recollection. “ Jest put astop on that meat-trap of yourn, while I cogitate awhile.” So saying, the trapper folded his arms over the muzzle of his rifle, and leaning his chin upon it, ap- peared to gaze far off at the clouds that were strag- fling through the western horizon. His eyes had at vacant look which showed his mind to be en- tirely occupied with itself, and totally oblivious of everything else. Nearly twenty minutes were thus occupied, during which, it may well be sup , the impatience of Nat could not but manifest itself.’ He whistled, coughed, sung, fidgeted in his seat, but it availed nothing to the trapper. The rock was not more motionless than he. At last he drew a long breath and resumed his Unsighs postion. **Gome, let’s hear it quick,” said Nat, “Tt ain't much, I allow, but I make no doubt it’s sunkthin’. It was two years ago, down at Brown's Hole, thatI heard it. A lot of us tellers were tell n’ stories round the fire thar’ one night, in the winter, when old Sol Jagzin, or ‘ Oregon Sol,’ as he was called, yes, I’m sure it was Sol, now,) told a wonderful story *bouta white gal he’d see’d somewhar’ in Oregon near the Blue Mountains, I think. He had tra ped two seasons near the canon of one of the rivers thar’ and was cac’latin’ stayin’ another, when one nigh one of the most bootifulest critters, outside the States, came down on him, and told him the reds had spotted him, and war’ gwine to lift his ha’r and bor- rer his traps and peltries. He axed her some ques- tions, and V’arnt that she lived *mong the reds— though what tribe, I don’t mind. She-said she and her sister had been took by the knaves when they wa’n’t taller than a beaver. Sol offered to take her down to one of the forts and start her home ag’in. But she said she had no home ’cept ’mong the Injins, and wouldn't go, Sol said she was powerful hand- some, dressed up like a squaw, with jest such black eyes‘and ha’r, and with a little foot no bigger than a beaver’s claw. He coaxed her a little while, but it was nouse. She didn’t ‘pear to want to leave, She said that the reds had found one of Sol’s traps the day afore, and they cac’lated on having times when they come down on him, She had managed to find out what they were drivin’ at, and had hunted ‘round till she found out where he hid himself. ‘*Wal, Sol had jest time to pack up his skins and out of the way of the imps when they did come own on his house. Howsumever, he was ail ht, and got off cl’ar. Sop And I said, told me this two year ago, and it was two year afore that he had — — —— — _ — — see’d the gal. He said he had gone up in them parts two—three times since, just to find out *bout the gal, but never had heard or seen anything of her since. Remember, she wa’n’t a woman, but only a little girl, and may not be the one you're arter, ‘cause I snow them reds ar’ desprit on cotchin’ sich poor critters.” ‘“ Who is Oregon Sol?” asked Nat, breathlessly. ‘ He’s a feller that’s trapped a in Oregon nigh onto twenty years, and who’s got that name on that account,”’ ‘* Where is he now?”’ “Ugh! gone under, like enough. Hain’t seen him since I’s down to Brown’s Hole two years ago this last winter.”’ ay If living, where do you suppose I could find 1im?”’ ‘* Dunno—he’s a quar dog. He’s got a home some- whar’ up in Oregon whar’ he lives alone, and ef you s’arch around thar’ for ten or fifteen year, you might run afoul of him some time.” ‘But how was.it you saw. him at Brown’s Hole?” ‘““He comes down thar’ once in a while, I b’lieve. It was inthe winter, as I said, that I see’d him, but 1 dunno whether that’s the time he takes to make the folks a visit or not. He come the day afore and he left the next mornin’ arter he told us that story.” “Well, now, my friend, you’ve started me on the right track I think, and you’re welcome to all the tobacco I’ve got. ow I’m bound to tind that maid- en if she’s to be found. What plan would you advise me to follow to do this?”’ “*Tt’s a dub’ous hunt, Mr. Toad, and yer’s as thinks it'll be a long hunt and no game—a Jong trappin’- season without a beaver or otter. But, ef you're bound to put the thing through, why strike a bee- line for Brown’s Hole, and jine some of the trappers as goes to Oregon. Find out whether Oregon Sol iy livin’, and hunt him up ef you can, though I don’t b'li’ve he’d have you with him. Ef he ain’t gone un- der, you'll hear of him down at the ‘ Hole,’ though it’s likely you'll have to wait, as the boys ar’ up on the beaver runs.”’ “* How long will it take me to reach the place?” ‘* Pour—five days will take you thar’ ef you don't stop to make many calls on the reds ‘long the way.” “T’ve got to cross the Rocky Mountains, of course. Iknow where Brown’s Hole is, and I thinkI can niger tind it.” . ‘Poller up this Big Horn to the mountains, and you'll find a pass that'll peer At through,” ‘““Whoop! hurrah!” shouted Nat, ewinging his hat over his head and dashing away, withou using to bid his friend good-by. e trapper watched him a. moment, and then muttered: “It'll be a long hunt, I’m afeard.” In a short time the joyous Nat Todd was hid from view by the intervening trees and undergrowth. CHAPTER IV. SHOWING THAT IT IS NOT ALWAYS BEST TO BE ALONE, Arter leaving the trapper, Nat rode at a brisk ps in a westerly course, and soon emerged from fhe ver-bottom into the open prairie again. Far ahead loomed the peaks of the Rocky Mountains. Viewed in the clear summer air, their summits seemed ti with a faint blue, and resembled an i lar pile of clouds resting in the horizon. Away to the northward, as far as the vision could reach, the mighty cliffs alone met the eye; and sweepin around in a western direction, so as to inclose the ad- venturer in a semicircle, rolled the Black Hills, one of the grandest spurs ot the whole Rocky Mountain chain. On the loftiest hights, the pure snow blend- ed almost perfectly with the clear sky beyond. Now and then a blast of wind swept down from the moun- tains, bringing its arctic climate with it. When a scene similar to this is gradually ap- Pieces by the traveler, he experiences its sublimi- in all its fullness. The roar of Niagara impresses the senses with a feeling of terror so at as to overcome all other emotions. But the solemn still ness that surrounds these mountains isso impressive as to be almost audible, like the faint roar of the ocean; and the soul seems filled with a responsive emotion. Nat neared the mountains on a brisker canter; but, for a time, seemed to make no pecgrer at all, for distance is as deceptive upon the prairie as upon the water, During the afternoon he entered a_ pass several miles in breadth, opening before him like a tunnel. He was satisfied, however, that it was not the famous “ South Pass,’ at the head-waters of the Platte, through which the Oregon trail leads. On either hand the gigantic walls towered above him, piercing the very clouds. Rocks, jagged and, mas- sive, were piled up thousands of feet above him, and the stunted cedars, a few scrub-oaks and bri- ers, were the only sign of vegetable life. Our hero gazed above and around him, feeling as though passing through the gate of another world. Full a housand feet above, seated on a projecting rock, he saw something move which resembled a large squirrel, but which a second look showed to be o zzZly r. Further on he detected another, but hey were so distant he had no fear of them. Viewed from the cliffs, Nat and his horse would have seemed but a mere speck moving through the gorge below. “T declare, this beats all,’ he mused. “I must call on the President when I go back, and tell him this is the pace where the Pacific railroad should cross the ky Mountains. Won't them grizzlies open their eyes when they see a locomotive thun dering through here, and hear it ere one of its r hurricane screams? And if old Upsarena shonld be sulky enough not to give up the track when the train comes along, won't hoee a bump?” Tt required several hours, even at the h
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even when wounded. rate at which he was going, to get through the pass. Toward the latter part the way was rougher, and he met with more obstructions. / ‘** Well, here I am at last,’ he exclaimed, as he found himself once more upon the open prairie. “There are no more mountains to cross this side of the fort, I believe. Ill fetch up there in a day or two, see that Oregon Sol, find out where Irene is, hunt her up, take her down to the States, marry her of course— Blazes! what's that?” A full-grown panther stood within a dozen feet of him, Passing a small cluster of trees, the animal bounded in front of his rearing horse with that won- dering stare which a brute gives at the first sight of a white man. Nat restrained his horse from flee- ing, and hardly knowing what he did, tried to ride down the panther, but his noble horse refused obedi- ence, After a while our hero bethought himself of his rifle, and without stopping to take aim, fired at the brute. The aimless ball did no harm, and the frightened beast scampered away at a rapid pace.* *That’s the luckiest move you ever made,” shout- ed Nat, after the retreating animal. “If I had time I'd follow you up, and teach you better than to stand before such a dangerous rifle as the one Na- than Todd possesses.”’ Darkness now began to settle over the prairie. Nat concluded it best to seek a spot for camp, Af- ter a careful search he decided upon a spot in a val- ley-like depression, where the remains of a camp- fire were visible. First pickcting his horse, he lay down within a short distance, depending upon the animal’s sagacity to arouse him in case of danger, The beast had already given such evidence as to make it certain that no foe, however wary, could ap- proach without excitin his alarm. Invoking, as usual, the protection of Heaven, Nat closed his eyes in slumber, He had precaution enough, however, to collect a large quantity of wood, so that in case’ he should need a fire during the night, he would not be at a loss to obtain it. Just before closing his eyes, he was startled by hearing among the mountains a long, peculiar cry— a sort of lengthened, tremulous howl of most dismal tone, Although he had heard nothing like it before, he judged it to proceed from the d ed mountain- wolf. He listened a while, and hearing no repeti- tion, closed his eyes, little drearaing that the trail of his horse was the occasion of the ominous sound. A half-hour later, he was brought to his feet by a most appalling cry. There was something so un- earthly, so horrible about it, that for a time, he was completely unnerved. It was that sound which his horse had given in the agony of extreme fear; and not even the wild yells of the mountain-wolves, that followed it, were so fearful. % Nat found his horse rearing and tugging at his rope, his eyes fixed and glowing, and his body quiv- ering with fear. He approached his beast, and, after a time, succeeded in partly pacifying him. He then looked around to ascertain the cause of alarm. Nothing was visible, although the moon enabled him to see quite a distance. About twenty feet away he noticed a stump, around which he deemed it best to start his fire, as he believed the fright of his horse was occasioned by some animal lurk ng in the vicin- ity. Accordingly, he gathered an armful of fuel and tossed it toward the stump. His surprise was un- bounded when he saw what he had supposed to be a stump rise to its feet, with a threatening wl, and spring back several yards, where it resolutely con- fronted him. “* Heavens!”’ exclaimed Nat, with a start. ‘ Who thought you were a sneaking wolf? I took you for an old stump. How do you like that?” He did not miss his aim this time. The wolf doubled up like a stcel-trap, uttering a dying howl, that was answered by a hundred, throats from the mountain, Admonished by this fearful warning Nat soon had a brisk i.e burning, and enough wood piled beside it to keep it going until morning. He hen led his horse up to it, so as to be out of reach of any animal, and loading his rifle waited for his visi- tors. The 1 mea which he had chosen for his camping- ground was, as said, a sort of hollow or depression which so concealed his fire as to prevent its bei seen until one was directly upon it. The death-how of the wolf near him was still echoed by others, and it was easy to tell by the sounds that they were sig- naling to each other, and were repialy centering around the spot which contained their dead com- panion. Ina moment, Nat saw through the smoke a pair of glowing eyes fixed upon him, and a length- ened whine, terminating in a sharp yelp, brought a score of others almost instantly to their side. — Matters were certainly begin to look serious, but Nat, knowing the dread which every animal has of fire, felt that if watchful and vigilant, there was no personal danger. His only fear was that the ter- ror of his horse would become so great as to make him uncontrollable, and he would burst across the prairie and be forever lost to him. The wolves continued to increase in number until it seemed that several hundred were gathered on the banks above. The first intruder, whose death was the Larsen 9b of his temerity, was seized by the foremost of the others and devoured in a twink- ling. This served only to increase their thirst for blood aot they became doubly venturesome. Although Nat held his horse so close to the fire as to scorch them both, a huge wolf made several leaps, and sna) his jaws so close that his animal sprung in- to the flame to escape him. He instantly leaped out * The ther found among the Black Hills is an animal total dissimilar from the one of the East. former is of a smaller size, scrawny and cow- ardly, and rarely can be induced to face the hunter, Nat Todd. again, and it was with the greatest difficulty he could be restrained. The wolf, encouraged by his success, endeavored to get at the horse's heels so as to ham- string him. Lying down on his face, he crawled within a foot or two and then made a spring; but the horse seemed to understand his intention, and, quick as was the movement of the wolf, he encountered the heels of the animal with such force as to split his head open and scatter his brains to the wind. The wolf, while yet quivering in the throes of death, was younced upon by his companions as usual, and torn imb from limb! Nat was struck with admiration at the exploit of his horse, and determined to attempt the same thing himself. He waited until another huge fellow hac ventured rather close, when he stepped forward, and ave a furious kick, Song, the animal’s jaws like the spring of a steel-trap. But before he could with- draw his foot it was seized by several with such pow- er as to bring him upon his back, and he felt that he was being drawn away from the fire by the infuri- ated beasts! “Murder! let go, can’t you?” he shouted, clutch- ing madly about him, and still retaining the halter of his horse, In his frantic movement he seized a firebrand and hurled it blazing among the swarming bodies. His foot was freed instantly, and the wolves retreated several yards, but immediately returned. Before they reached him, he was on his feet again, and too close to the fire for them to reach him. **Confound it! 1 wish I'd gone home with Bill Rel- mond, instead of coming out here like a fool] to hunt up that squaw!” exclaimed Nat. “I might better have stayed home, anyway.” It now occurred to him to attempt an expedient which he remembered ora a the i. per, Biddon, mention as having been used by himself in a similar case. Raising his rifle at random, he fired into the group. It was almost impossible to miss killing one, and a sharp yell showed that he had not failed, The slain wolf followed the fate of the others, and was devoured with as much gusto as though he had been Nat Todd himself. As soon as the latter could re- load, he discharged his gun again. This time the bullet plowed its way through the haunch of one wolf, and buried itself in the head of another, The latter, not noticing his own hurt, sprung upon. the fallen one, Before this one was mel devoured several scented the blood of the wounded one, and although he was as active and powerful as the rest, he was borne down to the earth by a score of raven- ous ones, and quickly dispatched. Nat fired over twenty shots in the herd, and more than that number fell victims; and still it seemed to have no effect save to whet the appetite of the oth- thers. Several more were slain, when the hunter no- ticed his ammunition was getting low. Prudence compelled him, therefore, to desist from his work of slaughter. With much care he reloaded his rifle, de- termined to use it again only as a last resort. But the fury and courage of the wolves had soincreased that he saw some other expedient must be resorted to, or his life would not be his own in a half-hour. He threw several firebrands among them. This scat- tered them for a moment; but it could not be con- tinued, for the good reason that it must deprive him of his fire, and thus make his case ey, 10peless. As an additional means of defense he indted an- other fire, and finally had four in full blast, so that he was.inclosed in a cirele of flame. This served every purpose, and no matter how great the hunger or temerity of the wolves, not one durst venture over the magic boundary, Nat congratulated him- self upon having foiled the insatiate brutes at last, But it was not long before this emotion of relief gave way to that of sickly terror. He saw that his fuel Paes not possibly. last till morning. A couple of hours more at most, it must die out. In despair, he looked up to the heavens, and saw by the constel- lations that it was needy midnight, Several times he revolved a desperate scheme in his mind, it was to mount his horse and start off on a fullrun. It seemed the only hope left, and yet a second thought told him it would be certain destruc- tion. Impeded with his weight, the horse must finally succumb and fall a victim, The lank, cadav- erous wolves were capable of worrying any animal of the prairie to death; and the most territie speed to which the horror of death could urge his ani- mal would preserve him but an hour or so. No; he nr pea this plan, satisfied that it could avail him nothing. Hour after hour gradually wore away, and the fire stumbered low. With feelings which none can imagine, our hero threw the last stick upon the fire, Up to this time the yells and clamor of the wolves had been deafening; but Nat, all at once, noticed that they had ceased, and the silence of death reign- ed over the scene. Some great fear had fallen upon them, and they now dashed away in a tumultuous drove, leaving the hunter alone with his'horse, Bowe greater danger, if possible, threatens!’ he exclaimed. _Scarcely had he spoken, when he caught the out- lines of a colossal form above him, and saw instantly that a y bear was approaching. His horse caught sight of the brute at the same moment, and, with a wild yell broke from him and dashed across the prairie, his mane streaming in the wind. The ‘bear instantly followed, on a loping, tumbling t. Svs silted ‘at fo cares elastin as Nat’s heart thrill alone. ‘*Now’s my time!” he exclaimed, catching a brand and running up the enbankment. He — sight of a cluster of trees, several hundred yards ahead, and ing id the brand above his head, made a des- rate dash for the refuge. He had gone one-half he distance, when he was surround Mb a dozen ptr ae na had been frightened from the pursuit of the horse by the appearance of the bear, as he saw | “Clear the track!” he shouted, in a sort of wild ecstasy, as he swung the flaming missile around him. The wolves fairly touched him, but the brand wag all-potent, He reached the tree without a scratch. Here he was nonplused for a moment. In one hand he held his rifle, and in the other the protect- ing terch, which his rapid run had fanned into a roaring blaze. It was impossible to climb the tree without ak feo both. The hunter decided in a moment, aising a loud shout, and waving his brand over his head, he sprung toward the wolves, scattering them like chaff, When they were a few rods distant, he flung the dreaded flame directly among them, and leaping back to the tree, dropped his gun and made a bound upward, catching a nb and sustaining ‘himself by one hand, Over this he threw his feet, but fate was against him; the limb broke and he came to the ground. Nothing discon- certed, he made another eap, and catching again, brought his body up among the limbs. But so close were the wolves, and so narrow the escape the last time, that he found himself lightened of a large part of his hunting-shirt, it being in the teeth of the greedy cannibals below, ‘* Now howl as long as you want to!”’ shouted Nat, as he clambered up the tree and perched himself in the very top. “Tl bet I won’t fall asleep to-night, and you'll wait a while before you breakfast with me,’’* CHAPTER V. WHICH IS MOSTLY IMISTORICAL Never did shipwrecked mariner hail the sight or morning with greater joy and thankfulness than did Nat Todd the first glimpse of day in the east. As the sun appeared above the horizon, the wolves, one y one, slunk away, until none remained. Seei the coast clear, Nat ventured to descend. He fons his rifle fully fifty feet away from the tree, where it had been clawed and disfigured by the ravenous ani- mals. It had suffered no material injury, however, and he was glad enough to recover it as it was. From the situation of the sun he was able to tell what direction to take to reach the fort, and without losing time he started off on foot, He traveled on until noon, when he shot a bird, which furnished him with a hearty dinner. He was never at loss for a fire, as his flint furnished the means; and the weather was so cool this day, that he could not resist the pleasure of enjoying it for awhile. Unconsciously to himself he fell into a dee slumber, and did not awaken until dark. Startle at his indiscretion, he sprung on, resolved to trave the most of the night to make up for lost ground. The prairie continued mostly of the ro kind; and, aided by the faint light of the moon and stars, he made considerable progress. Several streams were crossed, and finally a sort of grove, of perhaps a half mile in extent, was entered, A_ cold, chilling fear crept over our hero as the dark shades encom: assed him; and it was in no way lessened when he 1eard the footsteps of some animal behind him, In fact, we doubt whether there is a more uncomfort eble sensation a person can experience, than the com sciousness that some one or something is doggin his footsteps in the dark, The suppressed step, fol- lowed by a treacherous silence—the imaginary ap- proach of a foe, and the expected blow, make the suspense harder to bear than the danger itself, At intervals, the rustle of the leaves sounded closer and closer, until he was so wrought upon by fear that he could stand it no longer. Cocking his rifle, he dodged aside, and concealing himself behind a tree, waited the approach of his foe. Closer and closer sounded _ the footsteps, until all at once, not a wild animal ora human foe—but his horse walked in front of him. “Thank heaven!” exclaimed Nat, fervently, “ This is ~ most fortunate thing that could have hap- pened.” The horse seemed as much delighted as his mas- ter, and when he once more felt him on his back, he seemed unable to restrain himself, ‘Now you may go till you're tired,” said Nat, as he emerged into the open prairie, The horse, with aneigh of delight, straightened his limbs and sped away like a swallow. His rider ceased wondering at his escape from the wolves and bear when he saw with what speed he was carried, With now and then an occasional halt for rest and refreshment, the journey was continued until noon of the next day, when he crossed a large stream of cold, sparkling water, and several hours later he discerned in the distance the plain of Brown's Hole. He struck his horse into a canter at sight of it, and movin through the bluffs, crossed two smaller streams t tumbled down from the stratified cliffs on his right, After passing a few rods further, the whole area burst upon his sight. A man dressed like a hunter stood in front of the fort, amusing himself with the antics of .a couple of dogs. He gang + gh of our hero, and turned tow: him, Nat found himself the re- cipient of a hearty welcome, and felt that he had stumbled upon something like home in the wilder- ness, ‘Brown's Hole” is one the most remarkable of forts on the Pacific slope, “Fort David Crockett,” but it is now more gener * To avoid giving a false impression, we may state that the wolf of the West w never Aico ae unless the latter has the smell of fresh Diced abows him, They will follow a traveler for mil bp a up their dismal howling, but he is perfee e'8O. no fresh wound upon him, vr meat long as there is in sion. But afew drops of blood will draw the wolves from miles distant the trail. In the incident above given, the fury of als these anim caused by a small wound in the horse’s foot w Mi had left its mark in several places, tke 4 235% ‘ 7 ‘ >| f 2 Tt was once termed » ss an ets wr
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6 ally known by the former name. It stands on the Sheetskadee or Prairie Cock river, and is more than a mile and a half above the sea-level.* The plain upon which it is situated is about six miles across, and is walled in completely by a chain of mountains rising fifteen hundred feet above. The Sheetskadee enters the north-west side, and sweeping round in a beautiful curve in front of the fort, makes its way through the mountain-cliffs full a thousand feet in hight, where it moves over with a solemn calmness that is indescribable. Not the least remarkable peculiarity of this plain, is its climate. Forming a plateau, as it does, over eight thousand feet in hight, one would suppose an | eternal winter would hold reign. On the contrary, the rich mountain grasses, with numerous copses of willow and cottonwood, are growing the entire year; and when the blasts of winter whirl the snow in blinding drifts over the mountain-peaks and in the country around, the horses of the hunters may be seen calmly cropping the herbage on the banks of the Sheetskadee, and the hunters themselves in the hight of enjoyment. he fort, some years since, was a hollow square of log-cabins, with the roofs and floors construcced of mud. Around the outside were numerous Indian lodges, where the families of the white trappers re- mained while the latter were absent. among the mountains or beaver-runs, many of the Shoshone or Snake tribe are found atthe fort. They appear in the largest numbers during the winter months, when they bring large quantities of the meat of the mountain-sheep and other animals, which they fur- nish to the travelers and traders in exchange for beads, trinkets, ammunition, etc. A storehouse also stands outside, where the trappers barter their furs, and the Indians their horses, for hatchets, knives, fishhooks, lead and whisky. The Shoshones are the nearest assimilated to the whites, and during the winter months the whole tribe, numbering considerably over a thousand, pitch their lodges on the plain around the fort; while scores of trappers and hunters congregate within the fort, or among their Indian squaws, and a scene of enjoyment, such as is rarely witnessed, takes place. There are gatherings among the Indian lodges where both races congregate, while mocca- sins, buffalo-robes and ‘‘leggins”’ are sewn with deer-sinews. The wild song of the dusky warriors is heard; and there is dancing, and music, and love- making, and marriage—all that go to make up life, where, for the time being, the participants give way to social pleasure. And many is the thrilling legend related by some hun er, who, perhaps, has hunted for years on snow-shoes in Prince Rupert's Land, or penetrated to the Frozen Sea for seals and walruses; prea is the escape narrated by the trapper, who has stealthily secured his peltries on the shores of the far-off Columbia, or among the wildest fastnesses of the Rocky Mountains, in spite of the treacherous Blackfeet or Flatheads. Nat arrived at the most unfortunate time at the fort. It being in early summer, the only white men were the store-keeper and three or four hunters who chanced to be in the neighborhood for a few days. “Tf you seek any of the hunters, you will have te wait till autumn. he men are off hunting, some of them hundreds of miles distant. They’: be in, per- haps, in the course of several months, before start- ing off for the beaver-runs.”’ is information was given by the trader, after our hero had explained his object in appearing in that part of the world at such a time, Do you know any thing of a fellow called Oregon “Old Sol Jagzin, you mean? Ah—yes. No manex- op Kit Carson is so well known this side of the Mississippi.” “Where is he now?” “That’s a question I can not answer, and I doubt bog any one else can except the individual him- se ” * How long since he has been here?” “Let me see: he hasn’t been in these parts this ear. The last time was winter before last. He was dined only a day or two, just long enough to dispose of his Hs gem and layin a supply o tobacco and ammunition, when he was off again.” “What do you suppose the reason to be? Have you no idea that he has collapsed—been killed/T mean?”’ Sin | perdy suppose that, and yet it may be true after all. 1 is a most experienced Indian-fighter and hunter, and after going through such a course of training as he has, it isn’t likely he’d go under at this time of life; but then a trapper’s life is a hob- nob with Death, and though the latter must win at last, he does it sometimes sooner than is expected. lel added the trader, ‘I have little fear for “What reason then do you give for his absence?”’ *One reason is this: he traps somewhere up in Oregon, no one knows where, for he always ph alone. Since we Americans have got hold of Ore- mn, the emigrants have commenced coming in ere, during the last few years. This has made the vers scarcer, and Sol, like enough, did not secure sufficient furs to make him think it worth while to come down at the usual time. So he thought he would lie over for a season. os Lyon ever hear him say anything of the love- “ly girl at I have been speaking about?” Now that you have referred to it, it occurs to me that I have—but only once, and that was the time of which Tom Lengdes ke, I distinctly remember his relating the incident just as you say it was told you. It excited my curiosity somewhat, and I made Eran area ia nome akwey-On maspe as: finan er. Half-Dime Library. several inquiries of Sol, as well as of others who have been in Oregon. But neither he nor any one else could give any additional information.” ** Do you suppose this lovely gal to be living?” ‘Tecan only conjecture, which you can do your- | self. I should not despair of finding her alive and well until I received indubitable evidence that she was dead.” **T don’t suppose any one besides this Sol could give me any information which I seek.” ‘*No; itis hardly probable. You see, it might be | termed an accident by which he obtained his knowl- edge, and I doubt very much whether he could tell | any more than I have.” Nat was somewhat discouraged, but not entirely | disheartened by what the trader told him. His first impulse was to start for Oregon at once; but second thought told him that such a course could avail | nothing. He believed he had obtained a clew to what he sought; and that patience and perseverance were only needed to follow it up to a successful ter- mination, It was now early summer, and he con- cluded to remain at the fort until the arrival of Sol Jagzin, or until it was known that he would not make his appearance. The time passed heavily to the ardent fellow. Day after day dragged by, and week after week, until several months were passed. Still there were no signs of the hunter’s return. Several trappers made their | appearance at intervals, and remaining a day or two, | nce or twice large bodies of | took their departure. the Shoshones visited the store-house, and, bartering with the trader, rode away again. Toward the middle of summer, a distinguished Russian traveler, accompanied by an American, remained several days at Brown’s Hole. Nat made their ance at once, and the time passed pleasantly during their stay. The three had several hunting and fish- ing expeditions together, and our hero was thrown | into ecstasies when the American informed him that he was a friend of Relmond, and had met him in St. Louis on his return from the Yellowstone. Relmond and Imogene, having a faint hope that the traveler would chance to come across Nat, had dispatched their best wishes for his safety. Relmond, as before mentioned, had determined not to let Imogene know | the true cause ®t Nat’s erratic expedition, for fear that it might awaken hopes which could only occa- sion the keener disappointment. After the departure of his two friends, Nat found time hung more heavily than ever on his hands. frequently spent days in rambling over the mountains hunting the different game that so abounded, He wondered why the hunters should go to great dis- | tances to seek their prey when there was such abun- | dance at their doors. But no signs of beaver and otter were seen in proximity to the fort. The summer departed. Cold, blustering autumn made its appearance. The trader informed Nat that the trappers might be looked for every day. Indeed, the same week severalcame in. But noone brought tidings of ‘‘ Oregon Sol,” A fortnight after this, when the Shoshones pitched | their lodges around the fort, and over thirty trappers and hunters were on the ground, Nat received notice that a great party would be held that evening, which, of course, it was expected he would attend. No re- fusal could be expected, and there was little danger of any being offered. At the appointed time they all assembled in the lodge, which had been my als expressly for the purpose. The oily lights characteristic scene. There were old and weather- beaten hunters, shaggy and scarred, lithe, graceful warriors, and maidens of all shades, trom the ain hue of the autumn-leaf to the pure Caucasian, All ages, from the mere youth to the man of three-score | and ten were seen. Wives, husbands, brothers, sis- ters and lovers mingled together. There were a couple of ‘‘ professors’’ on the violin, so that abun- dant music was furnished, All went into the sport as if they relished it. Some danced as finely as if made of Damascus steel; some bounced square up and down; others shoved themselves around with a slow, solemn motion: while some shot hither and thither, like balls of india-rubber. Late in the night Nat found himsel (ete-a-/ete with a beautiful half-breed. While engaged in an earnest talk, she suddenly exclaimed: Yonder is old Svlomon, I declare!”’ Nat saw, at the opposite end of the room, a short, stumpy-looking fellow, clad in the garb of a trapper. and around whom were congregated a number 0: both sexes, A moment later, the trader touched Nat on the shoulder and whispered: “That’s Oregon Sol, He is in an unusual good- humor to-night, I spoke of you to him, and he says he will see ron in the morning. Be frank and to the pome, and I think you will have no difficulty in gain- all the information you wish.” t was near morning before the party broke os Tn spite of the exciting expectation which Nat felt re- poe ay to Oregon Sol, it must be confessed he slept soundly until near the middle of the forenoon. As soon as he awoke, he repaired to the warehouse to see the trader. He found not only him, but Oregon Sol, who had just disposed of his furs, and secured his winter stock of ammunition and stores, The trader introduced the two at once. We will not de- tail the tedious conversation to which Nat was com- lied to submit before he obtained his information, ut give the substance of what we have learned. The old trapper was whimsical and eccentric, and it uired the combined skill of the trader and Nat, ore he di what little he knew. He stated, substantially, _w. Langdon had ven, inting out only in addition the precise location of e in the: Blue Mountains at which he was visited hy she “lovely maiden,”’ and stating that the Indians belonged to the Cayuse tribe. e place acquaint- | He | isclosed a singular and | 1 where he was attacked was just ehove the canon of | a stream which debouched into Lowis river. Nat, | who possessed a thorough knowledge of the geogra- phy of the country, traced out the very stream on a map in the possession of the trader, and gained such an idea of the country as to make him confi- | dent of his ability to reach it alone; but he counted much on the assistance of the old terrible-looking trapper. IN was, then, with the sorest disappointment, that he learned that Oregon Sol was not go- | ing to return again to Oregon. He had obtained information from a friendly Cayuse of a region literally swarming with beaver and otter, to which the two were going in company. He'would not dis- | close its location, save to say it was in an entirely different direction, and hundreds of miles froie the Blue Mountains. Nat used every inducement at his command to get the trapper to change his intention, or at least to pompcns it until another season; but it availed nothing. As a class, no men are more stubborn than those western, half-civilized rangers; and the adventurer finally saw that if he made er | contemplated journey to Oregon, it would have be made without any companion or guide. CHAPTER VI. A HAUL IS MADE CONTAINING A MYSTERIOUS LETTER. WHEN a person comes to an unexpected resolution, his first impulse is pretty sure to be to carry it out at | once; and undue haste is equally sure to characterize | his movements. A half-hour subsequent to the explanation record- | ed in the last chapter, Nat Todd, well mounted and armed, was riding at a brisk canter toward the north. Brown’s Hole and its swarming population already were invisible behind the mighty cliffs that walled it in from the outer world. The trader at first opposed his erratic course, but was compelled to admit at last that it was the only one left to him. | None of the trappers present in the fort were going to the same section, and, as there were none who would consent to lose a season for the purpose of aiding in what could be of little profit or interest to themselves, it will be seen that the course of Nat was perhaps the best under the circumstances, He determined to follow the Oregon trail to Fort Hall, about two hundred miles distant on Lewis river. Having thoroughly ted himself, during his stay at Brown’s Hole, on the difficulties of the eer ney, he apprehended no trouble, except it might be from the Blackfeet, whose war-parties often hov- ered around this highway For something qver a dozen miles he kept up the valley of the Sheetska- | dee, one of the most beautiful rivers in the far West. The water of this river was clear as air, of uniform breadth, and in no place over three feet in depth. The mountains rose on either side to the hight of a thousand feet above the level of the stream. He camped at night on the bank of this river, and at an Sarly. hour resumed his journey. Nat had taken the precaution to furnish him. self with a goodly Y onaipa of meat before start. ing, as the trader informed him that he was about to enter a desert, where the probabilities of obtaining food by aid of his gun would be light indeed, A few miles from his camping-place, he reached a point in | the mountains through which the river wore its way | in such a manner as to make a canon, and, for the distance of five miles, he was compelled to clamber over frightful precipices, along brinks of yawning | caverns, and over paths not more than a foot in | width, where there was nothing save the naked face of the rock to cling to, where a single misstep would be instant destruction. But his Indian horse was as ree and sure-footed as the trained mules of the ndes. The day passed without affording him a glimpse of | a single human bei The only signs of animal life, besides himself and- his horse, were a few croaking ravens and m. ies that circled overhead and gave their dismal welcome to this desolate region, His camping-place afforded a view of the Anahuac | Range, which stretched away in the direction of the Great Salt Lake. He expected to encounter no white persons unless it might be one or two trappers, as the season was one in which few, if any, emi- grants braved the perils of the mountains. The next morning he continued his sourney in a northern di- rection, over a sort-of rolling plain of coarse, sandy gravel, upon which no sign of vegetation, save the forbidding wild wormwood, was observed. One or two miserable-looking prairie-wolves were espied in the course of the afternoon, They slunk along the river-bottoms, giving vent, now and then, to a how} which echoed like a wail of death from cliff to cliff. Asif to increase the gloom of this desert, a flock of famished ravens followed him for a long distance, chanting their discordant notes and darkening the air with their funereal wings. On the afternocn of the fourth day, the adventurer struck Ham’s Fork, a tributary of the Sheetskadee, At this season, the river was quite shallow, but dur- ; ing bie spring it is over two hundred feet in depth. is journey was a long and often tedious one; but there were many natural curiosities encountered, which sometimes served to interest him for a time. ear a these were the remarkable Steamboat and pone prings, the Three Buttes, and the Valley of asms. He underwent much suffering from the scarcity of food, and upon several ons his horse became so weakened as to be unable to carry him, Had he been aware of the formidable journey he had under- taken, his enthusiasm would have failed to carry him through. But on the tenth day he ascended a@ high ridge, which afforded him a view of the great southern branch of the Columbia. Far to the north- ward, in the land of the Shoshone, could be seen the
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; f \ ' Three Buttes looming up in the sky, while to the south-west stretched a rugged chain of mountains. But, a more chéering sight than all, there was Fort Hall, nestling down in the plain, its white battle- ety glowing like burnished silver in the clear sun- ight. | ne couple of hours he drew rein in front of the fort, shouting for those inside to come forth. fh- stantly an armed man made his appearance who gave | him welcome. “Got any thing to eat?’ asked Nat. ‘‘I’m terri- bly hungry. Do youthink you’ve got enough to sat- is * me?” he guard surveyed the strange comer with a quiet smile, and then replied: “Tf you doubt it, come in and try it. man, don’t sit there; you’re not serving your horse right.’ fe That is true—nor myself either,’’ answered Nat, hurrying within the gate. Come, come, | The hospitality offered him was the most genuine and hearty. His horse was well taken care of, and himself feasted like a prince, Within he found quite a collection of hunters and trappers. At the conclu- sion of his meal he arose and remarked: Nat Todd. often. He questioned three others who had seen | Far to the west, in a parallel direction with his own, the man, but none could add anything to what had already been told. At last, he was compelled to give up the hope of finding out who the unknown could be. The whole affair wasa mystery. It was destined to remain so a long time.to him. The afternoon was spent in writing home, He gave a whole account of his adventures, not omitting to | state that he was in pursuit of a ‘lovely maiden,” as | far superior to Alminy as the sun was to the moon; | and hinting the probability of his making his appear- ance in Lubec the next season, with her as his bride. He closed with a glowing account of his health, which, under the invigorating climate of the Far West, had become rugged and settled, and urging his mother to feel no anxiety upon his account. Phe letter finished, he handed it to his friend, who prom- ised that it should be sent eastward as soon as op- portunity offered. The entire night was passed by Nat in meditating upon the future. The advice of the note he held in his hand corresponded with that of Oregon Sol, and _ he had no doubts that both were correct, but he felt, “Gentlemen, if there is a man in this company | who feels titi satisfied, for the present, that man | 0 Bag | he had never visited, could know the object which | uestioned the man | is Nat Todd. “Nat Todd, did you say?” who had welcomed him to the fort, as he arose and came toward him. “The same, sir, at your service.” “There is a letter here for Nathan Todd.” ““A letter for me?” he repeated, catching his breath, and mea a sudden loathing of the food he had just swallowed, “Yes, sir; I willgiveit to youin a minute. I believe we have two, if I am not mistaken.” “Who has written me letters! Can’t be it’s the lovely maiden I’m looking for. She hain’t learnt my address yet.” In a moment two letters were placed in his hand. One was plump and heavy, and a glance at the su- perscription showed Nat it was from his widowed mother. A mist floated before his eyes as he trem- blingly broke the seal, and his heart fairly leaped while perusing it. It was a hopeful letter, such as an affectionate mother would write to the eldest of four In fact, grown-up sons, breathing prayerfully of his fate,and | containing a few words from each of the ‘* children,” and giving, 4s a part of the gossip, the fact that his Alminy had married Bill Hankins shortly after the departure of Nat for the West. Just what I expected!’ remarked Nat, aloud. *T might have known that, when she coaxed me so hard to £° to California—though I was such a fool | that I thought she did it out of pure, genuine love. Never mind; wait till I take this lovely maiden home that I am going to find.up among the mountains,” The letter closed with an earnest wish for Nat to come home, The farm was large enough to support all, and the fond mother could not see the necessity for even one of her children leaving the dear old home, Nat folded up his letter, resolved to spend a day in answering it, and to promise to return home the next summer, He glanced at the next envelope, but failed to rec- ognize the handwriting. The wonder with which he broke the seal was increased to literal amazement when he read it, The contents were as follows: “To NaTuan Topp:—Follow the trail to Burnt river, nd then strike off to the north-west to the Blue ountains, The one for whom you are looking is in the possession of the Cayuse tribe.” “ Jerusalem! who wrote that letter?’ he demand- ed, looking around him. There was no signature to it, nor anything besides his own name on the en- velope, “Where did you get that letter?” he repeated, him to toning. toward the friend who had welcom ort. “Tt was left here about two months since by aman who rode into the fort, the same as you have, on horseback, and from the same direction.” ‘What was his name?” _‘*He did not inform us.” ** What did he look like?” “There was ny: about his appearance that seemed unusual that I am aware of. He remained over night. In the evening he wrote that letter, and told me to hand it to you when you reached here, which he said would probably be in a month from that time. “Why, it beats all! How did he know anything of me, much less of the lovely maiden for whom I am adel You do not know where he came rom? “From the States, I suppose, although I am- not, c d ‘Know where he was going?” **No, sir; yet I sus it was to California.” “Pell mé how he was dressed—how he looked,” The man laughed outright at Nat’s eagerness, **Had Isuspected this anxiety upon your part, I should have certainly made this rine pat person leave his name, at least, with us. He rode upon a coal-black pie A: dressed in such a manner as to show he was m more civilized regions than are found this side of the Mississippi. His hair was long and dark, his face ¢lean shaven, with handsome, reg- ular features.’’ / Nat thought deeply upon what his friend had Pom related, but could nag up no remembrance of - ing ever seen a person who bore the slightest resem- blance to the one just mentioned; and, since leaving the Yellowstone, he had met no horse to the one referred facta For a long time 4 $9 nt Kv nothing puzzled himself grea’ solve the fe etea the Note a hale dose bp bene Pa i ty made his friend the description nearly as at that moment, that he would give all he owned in the world if it would be the means of explaining the mystery of the letter, It'was inexplicable. Howa man whom he had never seen, and in a region which brought him hither, was incomprehensible. “At any rate [ll go. ‘ Follow the trail to Burnt River, it says, and then ‘ strike off to the Blue Moun- tains.’ That course will take me to the very spot that Oregon Sol mentioned; and then it says that | the Cayuse tribe hold her. The same thing was stated by both, and of course must be true. journey to turn back at this place. No, sir! The trail which he has started upon must be followed to the end,” It’s a long he could discern the peaks of the Blue Range, stretch- ing far along the sky. At night he reached Burnt river, a stream as cold and limpid as a mountain- spring. It was at this point he was ‘to “strike off” to the west. The night was a clear moonlight one, and he continued his journey a long time, until stopped by the wild character of the region. In the morn ing, an hour after starting, he reached a broad belt of prairie, stretching away to the very base of the mountains. Here his horse relapsed into a deliber- | ate walk, while he fell into a deep and lasting reve- but Nat Todd has not come all this distance | Nat remained at the fort a couple of days, in order | to recruit himself and horse. He made the acquaint- ance of all those within it, but gained no additional knowledge of what most concerned him, Fort Hall was built in the year 1832, by aman from Boston, for the purpose of opening trade with the Indians in the vicinity. At this time the nearest post of the Hud- son Bay Company was seven hundred miles distant, and he had little fear of competition from them, But this wealthy firm, with its vast resources, soon forced him to leave. Fort Boise was instantly es- tablished on Red River, and the British company sent out scores of their agents, who literally sur- rounded the unfortunate American, and by under- selling him in everything, in a short time compelled him to *t break,” and sell out his fort, at a great sac- rifice, to the Hudson Bay Company. The course of the latter body in this affair may strike the reader as dishonorable; but, if he will reflect a moment, he see that nothing was done by them which is not practiced around us every day. It was but fair com- petition, and the American Fur Company, as well as many others, amply retaliated in time. Long after Oregon fell into the hands of the Americans, the Hudson Bay Company claimed and held the right of trade within its territory, With a shortsightedness which is unaccountable, our Government allowed this claim, and to this day the British reap the benetit of it. It was a pleasant Ceo in autumn when Nat Todd emerged from Fort Hall, and turned his face toward the northward. It would be tedious to the reader were we to follow our hero step by step until he reached the Blue Mountains, His journey to Fort Boise was much the same as the one from Brown’s Hole, An hour's ride brought him to the limit of vegetation. The earth became of a red, flery color, covered here and there with slriveled cottonwoods and shrubs, with barely sufficient grass to keep his animal. from starving. He passed close to the cele- brated ‘Three Buttes.” hese are alan shaped peaks, two thousand feet in hight. Their tops were covered with glittering snow; further down, small streams issue, and bands of vegetation encircle them to the base, giving, during the sum- mer months, a most beautiful exhibition of the dif- ferent zones of the earth. Eight days of constant terror from roving Indians—of painful traveling over the knife-like stones—over black barren swells —through a vast, untimbered country—sometimes fording the river beside which the trail led—some- times camping on the hard-baked earth—at others beside the soft, rippling river—at times ready to give da despair, and turn back—at others renewed b pede 9 days of such travel as this, and one aiternoon a solitary horseman, scarcoly resembling Nathan Todd, drew up in front of Fort Boise, A week’s stay at Fort Boise sufficed to put Nat and his beast in the best of spirits and condition, He found the hospitality of its inhabitants as genuine as those of the other posts, and left them with many eee of regret. he country over which he now journeyed steadily improved in appearance. A short distance from the fort, he came a @ number of springs whose waters were much better than those of the Steam- boat Sp . At night, he encam upon the northern bank of the Malheur, a tributary of the Lewis, which put in from the western side, The next day he continued still upon the Great Trail. * The treaty of 1846, says: ‘‘The possessory rights “A ‘s ny, and of all British sub- jects who may be already in occupation of the land or other ek Dap lawful y acquired within said ter- ritory, shall ted.”’ Ge. Harney maintained that the right of this company : > extiusiva trade on of the Hudson Bay Com the North-west i) May 1859, and took on of one of their fort: members of British com left under k ‘otest, and it is but the troub! tisfactorily a short time since was sai adjusted. _ ; rie. This musing fit might have continued a long time had it not been interrupted by the sudden whiz of something before his eyes. * Hello! what's that?” he exclaimed, looking around him. Just ahead he saw the barb of an ar- row sticking out of the earth, and, behind, scarce a furlong distant, nearly a dozen Indians running to- ward him with the speed of the wind! CHAPTER VII. PROVING THAT IT IS NOT ALWAYS BEST TO LOOK BEFORE YOU LEAP, One glance was enough for our hero to see that discretion was the better part of valor. One loud yell, and his horse, with a wild snort, sprung for- ward like a racer, ‘The flaunting apparel of the sav- ages seemed to alarm tke latter as much as his rider. and he needed no urging. The Indians discharged another flight of arrows, and giving vent to their chilling war-whoop, sprung with renewed speed after the fugitive. ‘Blazes! I think this is a mean trick!” muttered Nat, glancing furtively over his shoulder. “I should like to know what they’ve got against me and my hess. Never mind, they’ve got to dig gravel fast to overtake me in this race.” The speed with which the Indians ran was wonder- ful, but it could not be expected to match that of the horse. He was a noble animal, and skimmed over the ground with great velocity, The distance between the pursuers and the pursued so rapidly lengthened, that the latter began to hope the race would be shortly resigned by those who held it at such disadvantage. Already beyond reach of the strongest bow, it was with relief that he observed the savages had no fire-arms. He was in a region seldom visited by the whites, and where, from ap- pearances, the-red-men were determined such a state of affairs should continue as long as possible, The trepidation with which this race of life and death was commenced by Nat Todd, all at once be- came terror, when he saw that the prairie over which he was flying terminated a mile or two ahead, At’ that point the ground, assumed an uneven, rocky , character, which increased until it was literally com-( posed of gorges, caverns and precipices! Through these it was impossible to force his animal at a fas- ter gait than a common walk. “ By gracious! things begin to look squally! Come, hoss, you must go it while you can,” If it were late in the day, Nat would have had more hope: but it was early in the forenoon, and the relentless savages had a long time in which to seoure their victim. When the latter reached the end of the small prairie, he sprung from the saddle, and, giving his 1orse free rein, plunged in among the rovks to kee Po his es on foot. He indulged in one fearfu glance behind him, and saw his pursuers a third of a mile distant, shouting and gesticulating furiously, as they deemed he was as well as secured. ‘The more haste the less speed," is an adage whose force was never so distinctly shown as in the present case. . Nat’s only thought was a wild desire to go ahead, and he scarcely heeded the means by which this was to be gained. He ponges madly around rocks, pitching headlong into unseen hollows and stumbling over bowlders, and all the time it seemed to his tormented brain that he was absolutely gain- ing no ground atall, In the midst of his flight, he unexpectedly found himself between two huge rocks, | that rose far above him and extended quite a dis- gradually narrowin ing at the‘opposite end seemed hardly large enough to admit the passage of his body, He deemed it would be too great a loss of time to turn back and run around, and determined to take a start and make his body go through, Stepping back a foot or so, he drew in a deep breath and ran with all his might, As. he felt his arms brushing the rocks, he concentrated his strength and made one iy frenzicd leap, intending to pass clean heey The consequence was, he found himself immovably wedged in between the Re oa shtconin ving “Vast, as sure as I live!’ he gasped, endeavo to force himself out again, But eyes of no use; the force with which he had driven himself forward was so great that no weaken oe of his could extricate him, He kicked and twisted, and tried to push the rocks further apart, but it was bert “Oh! I'm lost!’ he moaned. “The Indians will be here before I can free myself, and I shall lose m sealp after all. This is worse than the Iron Shrous that I once read about. Heavens! is there no help for me?” He gazed up pitifully and pleadingly, as if the Coe Bee Slee area . Hea i : r rock; he was fast, apparent- | but to an inert soul, of cease his exhaustive — Phy ] tance in front, until the open- were at ‘oted f ter minute passed away, and he heard no
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= FO CE ant NN ee 4 emNRh ati eantyceaes. eeinallonann rare 3 - - = them, a faint ho they had lost all scent of that him began to te him, and he renewed his ef- forts to extricate himself. By exhausting his breath and doubling his efforts, he suddenly found, to his inexpressible joy, that’ he was free and on his feet once more. Our hero now committed a blunder for which there was certainly no excuse. The result of his former haste should have been heeded, Inthe rocks around him there were plenty of or in which he could | * have concealed himself, where even the basilisk orb of an American Indian would have failed to detect his presence. He committed a blunder, we say; and et, in the end, as is often the case, it proved one of he happiest efforts of his life. As no one could have suspected the singular termination, its short- sightedness was none the less. He emerged cautiously from the rocks, and gazed | -about him, There were no signs of his pursuers; and, supposing they had been deceived, he determ- ined to continue his flight toward the mountains. He crept stealthily along a short distance, when he de- seried, a few rods ahead, and directly in his path, a huge gorge, too broad to leap, and extending, ap- | | upon the end, and preserve the rocks in their places parently, for miles to his right and left. While debating how this new difficulty should be gotten over, two arrows shattered their heads upon the rock beside him, and an exulting whoop showed he was discovered. He glanced back, and saw the forms of his enemies springitig from-rock to rock, and dodging in every imaginable way to avoid his ‘shot. Retreat was impossible, as they were spread- ing themselves out like a fan so as to encompass him in his present position. “Do or die, and the Lord help me!’ he exclaim- se compressing his lips and preparing for the final effort. It was a deed, no sane man would have attempted or succeeded in. But terror—an absolute horror of falling into the Indians’ hands—accomplished it, | Drawing in his breath, Nat made several bounds for- ward, and, as his foot reached the edge of the preci- . pice, sprung out with superhuman strength! Foran instant, his secucnee form was seen in mid-air, and then disappeared! But he had succeeded in striking the pppoe side, and, half-stunned by the concus- gion, clambered to his feet and limped away. The Indians paused in amazement at cy the | white man’s wonderful leap, As he was lost to sight. they rushed forward expecting to see his manglec y far down the dreadful abyss. Reaching the edge, they caught a glimpse of him, several rods ir. advance, turning the corner of a ys cist ledge, Their astonishment was unbounded, lieved him to be a supernatural being. Not one of their number had the temerity to aitempt the same | feat. ; : A cold sweat broke out upon him as he realized he had cleared the frightful chasm, and his feeling of ter- ror changed instantly to uncontrollable hatred of the savages, that they had forced him to such a desper- ate elfort for life. He was so much bruised by the shock as to be barely able to limp behind the ledge alluded to. Here he sunk down, not even able to walk further. He preted cautiously around the cor- ner of the rock, anc some earnest argument. his rifle, and, seeing that it still remained unharmed, brought it to his shouider and pointed it toward the group. But the exhaustion of his system was so great as to throw his whole body into such a tremor as to make him unable to draw sight on a single one. Failing in this, he lay flat on his face, and, resting it on the rock, aimed at the center of the group and fired, “There's one imp rubbed out, curse him!” he mut- tered, as he saw a reeling savage caught in the arms of his companions and borne «way. By the time he managed to reload, not an Indian was visible. A bomb-shell could not have scattered them more effectually. Now was the time for flight; but, besides being crippled, as stated, he felt an ob- stinate determination to make the Indians suffer for what they had done. To understand the events which follow, it is ne- eessary that we should digress for a moment, and explain more particularly our hero's situation. he chasm which separated him from the In- dians was.one of those immense cracks or yawns which are often seen in the Far West, that were made at some remote age by an earthquake. He had leaped it at the narrowest spot, so that it was impossible for his enemies to reach him unless they used some artificial means to cross, or should go round it. It was not likely the latter conrvse would be taken, asi would involve too great alors of time; and Nat, accordingly, prepared to guard against the former stratagem. For a half-hour not a si At the cnd of that time ob stant in the air and then pron He rose to his feet, and, looking carefully toward tho suspicious point, finally detec a chaven head, the body of which was concealed. It was at a point lower down than the one where they were last seen; and before he could cover it with his aim, it was withdrawn. jiece en of an Indian was seen. ranch fluttered for an in- but no second ents at work. d accomplish ascended oO and they be- | saw his enemies standing in full | view, talking and gesticulating as though engaged in | He examined the lock of | — Half-Dime Library. before the savages should cross the chasm, some of | them should go to the bottom. He sat in this position a few moments, without de- | tecting any further movements of the ridge of rock, when it occurred to him that his foes might be extending operations in another direction. It was well he took a second glance; for, as it was, it had well-nigh been his last. To his left were three In- dians, and the very instant he turned toward them, the foremost had his arrow drawn to the head and »0inted directly at Nat. As quick as thought, the atter turned a back-somerset, landing on the rock below in a manner more expeditious than dignified, while the arrow glanced over him and shot away in the air with deadly velocity. Nat now saw that he was to be assailed at two ints, and all his efforts must be turned against , hese. After watching their movements a while, he found the same artifice was to be adopted by both parties, Each was to force a huge, tabular rock far enough across the gorge to allow them to leap across. There was no timber of any size in the vicinity, but the cunning of the rascals was svfficient for every- thing. Ponderous bowlders were in readiness to roll while the miscreants passed over, In spite of our hero’s most vigilant efforts, the sav- ages succeeded in pushing these partial bridges far enough to answer their purpose, without affording him a chance to pick off one of their number. By means of bushes, and by keeping themselves behind the bowlders they were rolling, a placed it out of his power to harm a single one. The reached which was to decide the contest. remained was for the Indians to cross. All that The fatal shot of Nat had the effect of thoroughly | alarming the rest, and there was not one who dared ex: °s himself to his aim. They now endeavored, by every artifice in their power, to draw a shot from him, their intention being to rush across before he could have time to reload. The adventurer under- stood this, and made his resolution to reserve his fire pe tips last moment, not using it until he was com- yelled to, ; Now and then a bronzed head would rise to view and then flit out of sight again; and one or two, bolder than the rest, sprung to their feet, brandish- ing their tomahawks over their heads, and leapin about so as to distract his aim. Once a dark bal Gf | surmounted by a gaudy tuft, remained in plain sight several minutes, as if to invite a shot; but Nat was too shrewd to imagine that any real savage would expose his skull in sucha manner, He preserved his silence with provoking coolness, At last an Indian sprung up and essayed to run out upon the lid of rock, but dropped quickly behind one of the bowlders. This stra the wished-for shot from ou! pressing the trigger when the savage whisked out of sight. A moment after the same thing took place | abovo him and was repeated at both places sev- eral times. The game at this point\iassumed an ex- citing character. Nat knew it was the easiest | thing in the world for these red-skins to leap acro 5 P hoe he * course, he was a little shaver when we left. and he believed they intended to do it whether he fired or not. The only trouble with them was. that each knev/ it would be instant death to one of them; and these demonstrations were continued, each one | hoping his friend would commit suicide for the bene- fit of his race. assume an air of determination. This Indian had resolved to make the attempt. But he was not given the opportunity. While in the vory act of starting. he gave a frenzied Roe and leap in the air pierced through the breast by the bullet of Nat Todd. A loud howl rent the air, and the forms of five dusky red-skins rose in view. The foremost, without hesitation, ran out on the edge of the rock and | ; yet) I'd go a long tramp to see her give me one of But I never ’xpect to see’em ag’in. * made a bound outward; but while in mid-air he gave a death-shriek, and doubling up like a ball, went spinning down the chasm, The others paused in astonishment at this second shot, while Nat hurriedly reloaded his rifle. Scarce a moment elapsed before he fired the second time among them, and his own shot was echoed by that of another from an unknown quarter, and two sav- | ages bit the ground at the same instant. This was too much for the Indians, who really believed the Evil Spirit was upon the opposite side of the gorge, and they scattered and fled as if he pursued them. The consternation of the savages was no greater than the amazement of Nat Todd at such an un- | looked-for assistance. Two fatal shots besides his | own had been fired, and they had saved him. “When I pulled trigger the first time I asked the | Lord to preserve me. He has done it, and I thank him for it!” said he, reverently. ‘* Still some human hand has been used to do it, and he must be around; so I'll hunt him up.” This was easier said than done. He ne a long time limping around the rocks, and seare ng for his unknown friend, But it was of no avail, and at last he shouted: “Hello, whoever you are! Come out and show ine ges It’s Nat Todd you’ve befriended; he wants see you!” A suppressed laugh reached his ear. Wheeling around he saw a largé, powerful-looking man, dress- ed in the garb of a trapper, leaning on a long rifle, leisurely surveying him. “Heaven save me’ if there ain’t Br. Bropon then my name isn’t Nat “odd!” i CG JAPTER VII. IN WHICH THE JARRATIVE MAKES BUT SLIGHT “How ar’ yer Nat?’ queried Biddon, extending point was now | ' small opening, and he noticed, for the rem well-nigh brought | hero. His finger was | “Why, well, and nearly crazy with joy at seeing you here ag’in, What brought you out in this part of the world?” ‘*What brought yerself? I s’pose we've both got a little story to tell, and so let’s jis’ git under cover somewhav’ and have a powerful talk. No fear of the reds now,”’ added the trapper, with a chuckle, as he moved away. ; It cost Nat pain to keep pace with him, and he was ous elled, at last, to cry out for him to walk more SLOWLY. “What's the matter?” queried the trapper, turn- ing toward him, ‘They didn’t get one of them ar. rers in yer, did they?” “No; Ltook a pretty long jump and got bruised somewhat. I wasn’t much afeared of their arrows.” * You wasn’t, eh?” asked Bill Biddon, as he picked pes the one which had been discharged Nat, ““Wasn’t much afeared of ’em, eh? Do you see that reddisls stuff on the p'int of this arrer-head? Wal, sir, ef unat had pricked yer skin, you’d ‘a’ swelled up like a grizzly, and at last bu’sted. Coz why? It’s yr mi of pizen. Shoot the imps! I know thar tricks.” The trapper led the way some distance further, when he halted before what seemed the face of a solid rock. He turned around, carefully scrutinizing every rock and bush visible; when, apparently satis- fied, he passed a few feet further, then made a short | turn and suddenly disappeared, leaving Nat in the most unbounded astonishment. **Come in, come in!” said the gruff voice of Bid- don, sounding from the cavernous recess of the rock, “Come in, come in, or one of them pizened arrers might hit you,” “Yes, yes,’’ repeated Nat, with an involuntary start, for, strange asit may seem, the presence of the formidable aneneer made him less couragéous than pert alone. “ Yes, yes; but how is the thing to be one?” The face of his companion now eg odes at a rst time, a peculiar longitudinal aperture, through which it seemed impossible to force a human body. When attempted, however, it proved an easy matter. He found himself standing in a small, narrow cavern, lighted by openings at either end. Beaver and otter- skins hung around, and the apartment looked very comfortable. “Ts this your lodging-place?” askcd Nat. “Yas, sir; this is the place where Oregon Sol has slept for a long time; but he’s give up the business in these parts, and offered me his housé to rent.” **Oregon Sol! Do you know him?” ‘““Wagh! Does we know each other? Me and him war’ born in the same house in Boonslick county Missouri, on the same night, and growed up aside o each other for a dozen years, fightin’ and quarrelin’ as much as if we war’ brothers.” We hadn’t either of us any brothers or sisters, and Sol’s parents (as they call ’em) went under as soon as he learnt to go on his pegs. Purty soon mine did the same and we poe and went with a lot of trappers, and have been <nocking ’round the ’arth ever since, Kit Carson was born in the same place, the year after us, but, in But. shoot me, I’m talkin’ too much. Know anything | *bout Jarsey and the gal he was after? Did they git off, or what's come of ’em?” “Tsaw them get ona steamboat on the Yellow stone, and I suppose they are somewhere in the Ho watched the visages of both, until he saw one | States, married, and enjoying themselves as much as ssible. That puts me in mind of the message they eft for you, e and Imogene told me, if I ever came across you, to give you their undying love and to ask you to go down in their parts and live with em,” “ Jarsey kinder walked into my affections, and I should like to shake the fellar’s paw ag’in: and that little Imogene, (bless her, if I don't think she’s a sperit er purty grins. I can’t bear the clearin’s, and I ’spect Jarsey has got me in some thar books or newspapers down thar’. I'd kinder like to see how Bill Biddon would look in a book, and see some,.thar picters of ’im. Jarsey told me he was goin’ to do it, and I 8*pose the feller has. How comes it that you're here?” * Well, ‘fey remember there were two girls who escaped that massacre at which you were present some years ago.” ‘ as. ’ “Well, you know Relmond has gone off with one of these.’ “Yas, I know it.” ** And the other has never been found,” ‘*No, I b’lieve not.”’ VF ** And that she may still be living.” ‘* P’raps so.” F “At any rate, there is as much reason to believe she is as there was to bolieve Imogene was before she was seen.”’ 4 bE shoot me if that ain’t so.” “‘ Well, Imogene told me, before going East, that, she always believed that Irene, her sister, and a lovely maiden, was captured by Indians, who went toward Oregon with her.” ; “* What of that?” “* Well, Oregon Sol, who was down at Brown's Hole when I left there, told me that a year or two ago he saw a captive white girl up in these mountains. Don’t you think there is some reason to believe t that captive is Irene Merment?” “ Yes, sir!”’ ies That is the reason Iam here. I am looking for er, j ‘*You said the other gal b’lieved the other one was taken by reds as b’longed to these is “She often remarked thattome.” | ‘ “Sy eat re ee Te’ his huge hand toward our hero. “Wal, sir, she was right!” | | from d .
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“She was right! Howdo you know that, Biddon?”’ ** Bill Biddon hain’t tramped the gow da for thirty ears for nothin’. Ef he can’t tell whar’ a red be- ongs, even ef it is night when he sees him, then you may shoot me. When them reds came down on us that night, I knowed they war’ from three different tribes, and knowed one of these tribes b'longed to Oregon, and I’ve long s’picioned the gal was taken by the Oregon ones. But it allers seemed to me she war’ gone under long ago. She war’ more tender nor Jarsey’s, and didn’t seem built right to stand the weather. You say old Sol told you he'd see’d such a gal . these parts once?”’ ‘ es ” ‘“Wal, he told me the same thing, and that’s one reason why J’m here. Howsumever, afore going further, let's hear the news "bout yourself, beginnin’ with the time when you give us the slip on the Yel- lowstone.”’ Nat thereupon related what the reader has prob- ably learned in another volume, and at its close, asked: ** Now, Biddon, let me hear your histery.”’ **T hain’t got much totell. Is’pose Jarsey told you *bout me up to the p’int whar’ I went off with the brigade?” “Yes, he related that.” - “Wal, I went up to the Selkirk settlement with them fellers, and they give me a rousin’ pile of money and trinkets for the furs I got ’em, and then very perlitely told me my name was down on thar books, and I was app’inted to go to one of thar forts called Illycross,* "bout fifteen thousand miles further north, whar’ I was to trap for seventy-five or eighty q ———S- —— Nat Todd. off, intending not to spare a single one! You see I en- trapped them. You came along and helped me, for which I’m much obliged.” A broad smile illumined the trapper’s visage, as our hero ended his remarks. **Shoot me, Nat, you’re a qua’r beaver. I used to think you's afeared of red-skins, and I kinder think so yit, But when a feller would expect you to own up squa’r and knock under, you're sure to give some reason that nobody ever thought on. Howsumever, I've taken a like for yer, Nat, and I offers you a grip of my paw. When Bill Biddon does that he means it, and he’s your friend as long as his top-knot is on his noddle."’ 4 The two grasped hands, and sealed forever the friendship they had long entertained for each other. ** Bill,” said Nat, ‘‘down at Fort Hall this letter was given me. Since seeing you, I’ve thought per- haps you wrote it.” * Let me see it,” The trapper took the letter and fumbled it awk- wardly, and examined the writing with a curiosit similar to that with which a scholar would scruti- nize some unknown hieroglyphic. ‘*Ar’ them what you call detters?’’ he asked, put- ting his finger on them. “Certainly; can’t you write, Biddon?”’ “Me write!) Wagh! Them crooked things looks like mashed bugs to me, and allers did. Me and Ore- gon Sol went to school one day down in Missouri, but the teacher wasn’t there, and we hadn't no books,so you see our edication was limited, I can’t see how them jiggers can speak, but I s’pose they does. Just read ’em,” | around and soon see’d how things stood. 9 — —~- --2 directed me, It is now rather late in the afternoon, Shall we show ourselves again to-day?"’ **f will craw] out pe. f soon and take observatios. That jump of yours—which I allow was some—’pears to have lamed you a little, and I s’pose you'll want to rest your bones.” “Yes, I shouldn't mind it. If you're going out, keep a sharp eye for the infernal rascals,” ‘Wagh! don't be afeared of Bill Biddon. I was out lookin’ at the weather when I heard your rifle crack, and I knowed thar’ war’ whites ’bout, and like enough in difficulty with the reds, so I crawled In cours¢ I didn’t know ’twas you, but I made up my mind te give ‘em a taste of Bill Biddon, thinkin’ as how they | might be pryin’ round after my traps, if I didn’t scare ‘em a little.” *Do you think you've given them such a fright that they will not disturb you again?” we Wagh! wagh! I give ‘ema powerful scare, wal I did; but I'm afeared it won't last long. They thought awhile ago they’d come across the Old Boy himself, but after they’ve talked over the matter, in course theyll know who it war, and I shouldn’t won- der ef they'd burn us or root us out.” “What was it they did to frighten Oregon Sol away?” “He wasn’t exactly frightened away. Ef he had wanted to stay, he’d done it, sure, in spite of ’em, Wal, thar’! they piled a whole lot of brush in front of him, and smoked him out. He stood it as long as he could, when he blazed_ among ‘em, and settin’ up a yell, tore right through the whole pack, smashin’ a dozen heads, jist to leave his mark among 'em y THE TRAPPER FOLLOWED THE MOTION OF ONE OF THE HORSES FOR A MOMENT, AND THEN FIRED. bone and they'd give me another pile of money. agh! I told ‘em, jist as perlitely, they might go to the devil, and slingin’ my gun over my shoulder, I stepped down to Oregon and called on Sol, who told me ‘bout that gal, and I've staid hyer lookim’ round for her ever since.” “Have you learned anything of her?’ eagerly asked Nat. ‘*Yes, summat. Them Injins as come so near wipin’ you out, I’m purty sure have got her, and I sshouldn’t wonder ef that’s the reason why they’re so afeard any of the boys should come round hyer. They smoked Sol out, and he advised me not to sta, here; but I’s bound to find out all *bout that gal. Do you know how many of the reds war’ chasin’ Vyou?” “About a dozen, I believe,’’ replied Nat. “There war’ jist eight, and one rifle would ‘av’ scattered every one.” — Nat winced under this rebuke of the trapper, but with a cunning shrewdness i ay “You see, the way of it was this: (here the speaker placed the forefinger of his right hand very impres- sively in the palm of his left); “I hate Indians, es- them that hate me, which I believe include 2ll west of the Mississippi, and when these eight ras- cals started after me, 1 made up my mind to shoot every one, Acco ly I ran, so as to make them follow me, of course. ust stepped over that gorge, omnes they'd all try to follow and break their necks. But they wouldn’t, and so I commenced picking them _ * Port Isie ala Crosse a post in the Northern De- wWartment Nat did so, when the contents instantly absorbed the attention of Biddon, A long consultation was held between the two, in which the latter stated that he had been in his present retreat but a few weeks; but from “ signs,” he was well satisfied that the In- dians had a prisoner among them of whom they were extremely jealous. They decided to remain in their present quarters as long as they could hold them, or until definite knowledge of the lost one was obtained. The authorship of the letter was as — a mystery as ever. Biddon said, from what regon Sol had told him he believed there were per- sons at the different forts who knew of the strange captive, and who had conveyed their intelligence to Nat either to mislead or to guide him—most probably the latter. Who that person could be, or how he learned the name of our hero, neither could divine, * But Sol stated that it was near the canon of some river,” remarked Nat. * Jist keep still a minute.” As the two listened, a dull roaring, like the dis- tant roll of the sea, was heard, ‘* What does that mean?” queried Nat. “That's your kenyon,”’* “We are then in the. vicinity to which Oregon Sol * A eanon is a narrow, tunnel-like passage, through which a river forces iis way. Compressed within these walls, so close in some places as to be easily mont over, the water rushes with inconceivable ve- locity. When viewed from the top, the river often presents the appearance of one mass of foam and whirlpools, from which the mist ascends as if from a vast waterfall. The rest took after, yellin’ and screechin’ like mad and for a time thar’ war’ some fun, Sui Sol knows how to use his pegs, and it didn’t bother »im at all to give ’em the slip. He had trapped se long hyer that beavers were gesn scarce, and some rec'- that he'd took a like to, told him of a great place, where I s'pose he’s gone by this time." ; “But he saw this lovely maiden but once, and it was in another place.” “Yas, jist so; it was in anothcr place he see’d her, but not fur off, and it war’ the same imps that ar round hyer. They travel round like turkles with thar packs ou thar backs, I met Sol down toward that—that you run the risk.” “Don’t you see the reds see’d Sol Jeave, and as he was the only feller as has been in these parts fora long time, *twan’t noways likely they’d "spect an- other chap right off to step into his tracks, and *tain’t likely they’d ever found it out ef I'd kept shady ar* let ’em wipe you out,” Shortly after this Biddon went out, CHAPTER IX. IN WHICH THERE IS A HOUSEWARMING, A VISION AND : A FLIGHT, VE Ir was dark when Biddon returned, and, after several minutes’ unimportant conversation, the t lay down to rest, In the morning Nat found e Peers ~~
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16 unabie to walk, owing to the bruises mentioned; but they were not of a dangerous @haracter, and in a few days he was restored to his usual condition, The trapper continued to engage in his vocation, | more for the purpose of supplying the two with food, and for passing away time, than for anything else. In the meantime the approach of winter was rapid. The weather, in the course of a week, set in with the most intense coldness, and the streams freezing over seriously impeded the success of the trapper. He ad, however, laid aside enough to supply all neces- sary food through the winter, and, alt things con- sideréd, their situation was by no means unenviable. One thing was a matter of surprise to both. Nota sign of an Indian was seen, and Biddon more than once stated that he believed the tribe had gone into winter quarters insome othersection. Nat proposed that they should follow them, but the trapper re- marked that it might only be a stratagem to Receive them. The Indian village was several miles away, in a sort of valley or depression in the mountains, ‘A winter such as in our more temperate sections is rarely witnessed, was approaching, and the advice of Biddon that they should “keep out of sight and make themselves comfortable,” was perhaps the wisest that could be followed under the circumstan- LOS. Half-Dime Library. *‘nough to be on the look-out. I don’t s’pose you eare about goin’ under jist now, ef the wipin’ out has to be done by the reds. As fur me, it don’t make no difference when the last sickness comes, *though I should die hard ef I thought my top-knot was ever to hang in the lodge of a red-skin. There ain’t no one to ery when Bill Biddon goes. He has hunted a long time ’mong the peraries and is gettin’ so well ‘long that the day can’t be fur off, and he ain’t no- ways skeerish about it. Howsumever, as I's sayin’, *tain’t noways likely you've a hankerin’ to go under | jist now and so we'll take a look 'round.”’ ’ The winter, as may well be supposed, was most tedious to the two adventurers. Sometimes the snow | was whirled in blinding eddies through the gorges, and, for a month, lay several feet in depth, and the walls of their cavern home were as if made of solid ice; but their abundance of furs, and the fuel with which the ingenuity of the trapper supplied them, | was sufficient for all purposes, Sometimes the burly form of the latter might be seen on the margin of frozen streams, cautiously searching for beaver- signs, or setting his traps for the foxes that lurked around them. On several occasions, Nat and Biddon ventured out upon these excursions during moon- light nights, when the crusted snow sustained their weight without leaving a trail. Their footsteps echoed with a noise that, in the intense stillness, could be heard at a great distance; while, now and then, the long, dismal how] of the droves of famished wolves ga i the night-air With a chilling power, During he long nights, Biddon often whiled away the hours inerelating reminiscences of his wonderful career, | termined upon. ‘‘Have you no means at hand to escape should an attack be made?” “You hear the roar of that kenyon? Wal, in under the rocks there I’ve a canoe, and when the time comes—ef it ever does—when we can choose the way in which we'll step out, that'll answer.”’ ‘** How, Biddon? I don’t understand you.” “ We can go down the kenyon /” “Oh, thunder! that would be sure death.” “You've hit the truth there ef you never did afore though *tain’t exactly the trut . either. You'd stand a chance of comin’ out right—’bout the same chance that a painted Crow would afore my shooter, after I'd drawed bead on him!’’ ‘* Narrow enough chance, in heaven's name! Biddon, what we sropose to do?”’ “We won’t undertake nothin’ to-night, but to-mor- row we'll spend the day in scoutin’. We'll find out ef that gal’s hyerabouts. Ef she is, we'll make a dash fur her; and ef she isn’t—why she isn't,” A long consultation was held that evening be- tween the two friends, and their course of action de- It was decided that the first point But, | was to ascertain whether the one for whom they while, in turn, Nat gave many of his own adventures | in Lubec, including his fo Anarenit already familiar | to the reader. Not an Indian trai long, dreary winter, was discovered by the trapper, and they remained unmolested by man or animal. Nat was often startled when he reflected upon his temerity in thus venturing into the mountains alone. He had not the remotest suspicion of ever encoun- tering Bill Biddon again, and had he been left with- out a companion, he would either have had to ish by starvation or cold, or throw himself upon the hos- p tality of the savages, where it is not to be expected 6 would have fared any better, : But at last, the winter wore away, and the beauti- ful, radiant spring dawned upon them, The moun- tains echoed with the sound of a thousand rills and streams, the rivers burst their icy barriers, with a shock like the noise of thunder, and vegetation sprung forth as if by magic. So sudden was the change that, as Nat stepped forth from the cave one clear morning, it seemed as if he were in a land of enchantment, The time had now come for action. The warm, genial climate, uw sed by any in the world, the exuberant follage. were favorable. Biddon re- turned, one evening, to the cave, from a sort of scouting @ selt during the day. ; “What have you learned?” asked Nat, as he no- ticed a peculiar expression upon the trapper’s face. ** Wal, I have learnt a little, but s’picioned a heap,” “What is it? Let me know.” “ T’s out around takin’ observations, as them fellers from the settlements say, this afternoon, when I come onto the Ingin village. It’s down in a valley, and it’s my opine they’ve arrove, ’cause why: I’ve been along there in the winter and didn’t see a single noage. ey’ve wintered further up the mountains and have jist come back.” * Do you suppose they know we are here?” & OF eoney they ain’t sure, but they s’picion it.” “Why glo you think so?” *T hav® come across a dozen trails, and b'lieve they’re huntin’ fur us. Ef they happen to find one of my traps, it’ll be all they want. ey'll be down on us in a twinklin’.” **Do they know our hiding-place?” “This is the same piece used by. Oregon Sol, you must mind, and it ain't noways likely they'll miss takin’ the first or in eS to see how things look.”’ “Then we'll be in a hot place before we know. nce they do surround us, what will we do?” ‘ tay run for it,” **But can’t we get away from them?”’ *Wach! that’s cording to how fast your pegs inove, ‘though I think the chances are good of gittin’ your ha’r raised.” ** My gracious, Biddon!’’ exclaimed Nat, in conster- nation, ““we must arrange things “ Afeard?” asked Biddon, with a piercing look. . “Of course not—certainly not. My great objec- Sey Siddon, you see, is : if ey undertake to smoke us out, it is more than likely they will smoke us to death, and I am sure there is no need of letting them do that. Wewon’t be able to get away from them, either, with our eyes half blinded and our clothes singed cff of us!” The trapper indulged in a hearty laugh before re- ‘You're a trump, you is Howsumever, it’s well dition with which he had occupied him- | till we git smoked out, and then make a | differently from | , through all the | : were searching was in the tribe. Despite the circum- stanees pointing that way, there still was good reason to doubt this all-important fact. Were she present, however, they could hope for no success unless they should discover some means by which first to commu- nicate with her, assure her of the existence of her sister and the efforts being made to restore her to civilization, and thus awaken a natural desire to es- cape upon herown part. Could they succeed in this, there was rete reason to hope for entire success, although, as the trapper intimated, the suspicion and vigilance.of the Indians would be so great as to make it a work of the greatest peril. In the morning the two ventured forth, taking op- posite directions. The vegetation was so abundant ward the base of the mountains that every facilit; was afforded for concealment, and they had little fear of detection. Biddon proceeded in a westerly direction, intending to pass around and reconnoiter the village from the outside, while Nat concluded to lie off in the woods and view matters from a dis- tance.. The latter made his way cautiously down the mountain, and entered the woods without encoun- tering any suspicious object. Here the glorious foli- age and the pleasant air were so tempting that he wandered through the forest, almost forgetting the object that brought him thither. He crossed small streams of water, which came down in cascades from the mountain, and flowed over their pebbly beds like liquid mountain-air, in which the fish, darting hither and thither, resembled flashes of gold and silver. The forest-arches echoed with the songs of thou- sands of birds; the sky overhead, as blue as as was flecked by a few drifting clouds; the air ad that peculiar clearness which renders it doubly ex- | hilarating. Nat wandered onward, like a boy lost in enchantment, until noon, when he suddenly noticed that he had passed the Indian village by several miles. Startled by this discovery, and withal a little ashamed, he immediately turned to retrace his way. Having now no fascination to make the mind insen- sible to what the body was Going, the distance seem- ed astonishingly great. But after a few hours of hurried walk, he caught sight of the Indian lodges, nestling down in the valley like a lot of hives, while the bees were swarming around the outside and through the adjoining forest. Nat now and then caught a sight of the warrriors, glittering in their gaudy dress like so many tropical birds, filit- ting hither and thither in a manner that warned him to be cautious of his movements as he approached the vicinity of the village. While roceeding thus, he stumbled upon a _ scene hat made him recoil in astonishment. Several trees, standing close together, were interlaced and interwoven by vines in such a manner as to make a natural arbor. Pressing between these vines, he found the semblance from within more perfect than from the outside. It seemed as though art must have assisted at some time in forming such a beautiful re- treat—mere especially as the interior had the ap- pearance of being fitted wp for the abode of some one during the sultry noontide hours. But Nat had seen such wonderful doings of Nature in the wilds of the North-west, that it would have required a most extraordinary demonstration upon her part to have shaken his belief in her potency. The present scene was so inviting; and the air so cool, that he concluded to rest himself for a while before continuing his re- connoiterings—or, more properly, commencing them. Had he taken the precaution to examine more closely the network of vines around him, he would have dis- covered such evidences of the hand of man asto have made him careful about hesitating long enone) even to view the arbor, much less to trust body within it for an hour or two. But nosuch suspicion entered his mind; and, seating himself upon a curious-look- ing object, he gave himself up to the enjoyment of the scene around. As might be expected, Fe fell asleep! A half-hour after entering, he rolled off his seat upon the leaves without w. ng; and continued his sl peacefully as in his own house at home, passed thus, when he awoke, and gazed with > dered look around. He recalled in a moment the circumstances by which he was surrounded, and was about to rise and pass out, when he was startled) by a vision so unexpected, so astounding, that we must digress a moment to describe it in full. At the opening by which he had entered, stood a person whom it would have required no great effort of the imagination to fancy a being just droppec ‘from the skies. Her dress was purely Indian in character, with all the dazzling contrasts of color and costly abundance that characterizes the costume of a princess. The hair was black and flowing, and was surmounted by a wreath, in which clustered such a number of eagle-feathers of the most brilliant dyes as to give it the appearance of the plumage of one of those wondrous birds of the Orient. A shaw) of the hue of blood, spangled by all the curious de vices that an Indian’s ingenuity could suggest, fel? from the shoulders to the feet, and was open enough in front to reveal a dress of green and blue, figured and wrought after the manner which a savage sor- cerer sometimes evinces. The leggings were of the most tasteful kind, moccasins small and ornamented by beads and trinkets. As she stood, the left hand was closed over the right shoulder so as to grasp the folds of the shawl and sustain it in its place, while the right arm was raised, and the fingers were ex- tended as if in horror. The eyes were intensely black and glowing, the mouth partly open, and one foot slightly in advance of the other. The apparition of a white man seemed to have transfixed her with a species of terror, andshe remained as motionless as a statue. When this being first burst upon Nat's vision, he started, recoiled, and then gazed at it as if fascinated. He examined the gorgeous dress, the form and the features. He noticed the dark eyes and hair, the small, slightly Roman nose, the finely-cut lips, and glowing throat; and then, as if enthralled, asked scarcely above a whisper: ““Are you trene Merment?” No pen can describe the amazement that depicted upon the face of the girl at hearing her name pro- nounced, Looking at her questioner a moment, as if her gaze would enter his very soul, she in turm asked; ““Who are you?” “Nat Todd.” ** Why are you here!” “T have come, fair one, for ge Trene fixed that burning look of hers upon “the ad- venturer until he felt like sinking to the earth. ‘* What does this mean?” she asked, speaking like one in a reverie, ‘“‘Am I dreaming, or have I heard my name pronounce d by one of my own race?” ‘It is you, then?” said Nat, “and I shall be re- warded for coming this great distance,” , Then seemingly gaining his usual sanguine feel- ings, he added, with a glowing countenance: ‘And your name is Irene Merment, is it?” “Tt is—and how came you to know it?” ‘We'll come to that by-and-by,” he rey lied, “ Bilt Biddon and myself (more espec lily my<elf) are here after you,” . f While Nat was speaking, the fair girl gazed at bin as if she doubted bis sanity. Several times he no ticed, too, that she glanced furtively around, as though she feared the appreach of scme one. * But,” said she, “ what do you wish of met’ It liked to have sliyped Nat’s mouth before he thought; but it cccumed to him it was rather early in their acquaintance to make the all-important an- swer. “We want to take you frcm these outlandish ras- cals to the land of civilization, wheie ycu may see your friends.” **Me—I have no friends but these Indians.” “Beg your pardon, the best friend you've got in the world stands before you; and haven't you got a sister?” 4 “TI had once, If she is living, she is, like me, a captive. I never expect to see her until I meet her in heaven.” “You're all wreng again. I've cecen your sister Imogene; che is married toa fellow remed Relmond, from down tcward New Jeisey. He is rather soft like, but they’1e happy for all that, Hapyy, most, ae lexpect to Le when—” He finished the sentence by a turning blush and cough, Irene turned ag yale as death, but mastered her terrible emotion, and asked: “Isahis true? Lo tell me all. But I fear for you, If the Indians see you, you will ke killed.” “There are various opinions about that,” replied cur hero, confidently. “However, the story must be given. A number of years ago, all of your fami ly, except yourself and sister, were murdered on the pane, by the all-fired savages, Each of you were aken captive, and carried cff ky different tribes, Your sister, Imogene, was rescued from captivity by myself, assisted by Biddon, who was Poet guide at the time of the massacre, and who is here now— assisted wy him, I say, and Relmend, who is gone East with her and married her. I heard her speak of you, and I made a solemn vow to find out your fate. The Lord directed me here, and I've found you at last. Me end Biddon have been hunting alf over the mountains for you, and here, instead of finding yous you have found us, Will you not returp with us?” “Yes, yes; I could not live here now. that I know my only earthly relative is living. 1 would die—} would die.” She covered her face and gave way to her emotion. for a time, while Nat busied himself with surveying her wonderful dress, admiring her faultless form, and conjuring up a hundred wild schemes of escap ing with her, Soon she looked up, Are you and Biddon the two white men who have remained in the mountains this winter?” “Yes; how did you know we were here?”
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— - LS — ‘*The indians have suspected it, although they did not know where it was youremained. Oh, my friend! you are in great danger.” ‘““Where? What is it?” “The savages have watched the mountains for you | a long time, and they have found, at last, where you | stay, and they are going to kill you. They will do it | if you are not careful. Oh! I saw them kill a white man once whom they found here, and they tried to got another one. They set a fire all around the cave n which he had hid himself, and tried to make him come out that way. He set up a yell and ran right through the fire and got away from them after all. Oh! I was so glad I spent the whole night in thank- | ing the blessed God for it. He was the same man I once warned of danger several years before. Do not go back to your cave to-night, for they will kill ou,” “But I must find Biddon.”’ ** Do not sleep there, then.” “There’s no danger of my sleeping anywhere to- night! [ll go right off and see him now—but hold on, he exclaimed, wheeling and facing Irene, “how about you're going with us?” *T must see you again,” she replied and with such an accent as to show that it had been years since she had used her native tongue. “T have it!” cried Nat, exultantly. ‘I will see Biddon, and we'll camp out in the woods somewhere to-night, and I'll come around to this place to-mor- row night, and we'll start for home right off.” “Have you horses?” “Not one. I lost mine last fall, and some of your Indians must have stolen Biddon’s.”’ “*T will try and get some and bring them here, and oh, may Heaven help me!” aghe trembled like an aspen as she spoke, and soon “Go now to your friend, and I entreat you to be careful. Oh! this can not be reality!—it is—it is! God grant that I may yet see my long-lost sister!” The next minute she was gone, and Nat, gazing a moment in vain to catch a glimpse of her, turned al- s0 and departed. Hardly five minutes had elapsed when the bushes parted within a dozen feet of where they had been standing, and the crouching form of an Indian rose to view. His face was distorted with passion, for he had witnessed the interview just re- | corded; and although not a word was understood, the wily savage read their hse py in their faces and gestures. He bent his head as if then disappeared as stealthily as he had come. In the mean time Nat mad» his way toward the cavern, his heart throbbing tumultuously with his newly-awakened hope, and. with the numerous schemes he Soortunad up to escape the fury of the savages. It was aiecadey growing dusk, and, while yet some distance from their rendezvous, he heard a rustling in the bushes, and before he could divine its cause, Biddon stood beside him. “Don’t go any nearer the rocks!” he admonished, in a whisper. ‘Why, what's the trouble?” . “They've found us out at last, and it’s my private opine there'll be some fun to-night. Jist step back hyer a little further in the woods and we'll talk the thing over. Now,” asked the trapper, “what have you seen?” ‘ Nat related every particular of his interview with Trene. “Just what I e ted,” added Biddon. “You orter knowed more than to go asleep in that place—”’ “But you see I wanted to find out how the thing worked, and if I hadn't I wouldn’t have seen the lovely maiden—” “T know,” interrupted Biddon, with a slight chuckle; ‘it’s ev agg to come out right, but you orter knowed better. I’ve been peekin’ round their village, and soon found out by the way things looked that they’s up to some deviltry, and long afore night I knowed it war our place they’d sot eyeson. AsI said afore, they'll be thar’ to-night.”’ “ And what'll we do?” ** We'll lay off. Foller me as still as a snake.” The trapper led the way further up the mountain until he reached a point several hundred yards from the canon of which we have before spoken, and about a furlong from the cavern which, up to this time, had been their quarters. Here they halted be- fore a cluster of buffalo-berry bushes. Both, on their hands and knees, crept a dozen feet into the densest gouple of rabbits. vy What is this for?” asked Nat, in a whisper. “You see, there’s going to be somewhat of a moon to-night, and when they don’t find us among the rocks, they'll make a search around it fur us, fur by ‘re bound to either lift our ha'r or skear us out of these parts. “But won’t they find us here?” ‘They won’t look so far as this to-night, and if we can lay out of sight till to-morrow night, they'll think we've left for good, and we'll have the next night to do the business for ’em. at saw the meaning of the course taken by the trapper. 1e latter hoped to escape the eyes of the savages by the very boldness of his stratagem. He had found, during the day, that his traps had been visit- ed, and had very good reason to believe their retreat in the rocks was suspected. He knew that a search would be made through the adjoining forest and mountains; and where the Lh Se were acquainted with every nook which could conceal a human body, there was little cause to hope they would escape their vision, They might have made a retreat of several miles in the mountains, and thus avoided them until they could venture in the vicinity of the but the reckless mapper perilous artifice, chose a il olor thicket in bolder more listening, and | rtion, where they nestled down like a | Nat Todd. which he and Nat had concealed themselves afford- ed them a perfect screen, and there was no danger of their being seen by any passer-by, unless he should enter and separate the bushes. He had chosen a point so near the canon to avail them in their last extremity should a discovery take place, They sat an hour or so conversing in whispers, when Nat felt the hand of Biddon placed suddenly upon his shoulder, and heard his whispere@exclama- tion: rs) aps A bright, lurid glare filled that quarter of the heavens over the cavern which so long been their home, and a pile of blazing brush, sending its cinders high in the air, was raging around the rock itself. ‘The imps ar’ at work, but they’ve missed thar scalps this time." The Indians had waited until late at night before commencing their work, At that time they judged their victims would be asleep within the cave, totally unsuspicious of danger. heir preparations were made with the utmost secrecy. Huge piles of brush | were heaped around the cave until it was literally in a low tone, | covered with it. The most daring of their number could not be induced to enter the cave in the face of the two rifles and knives they supposod to be within it, ‘ The torch was applied to the brush in a dozen dif- ferent places at e@ same moment; and, as the forked flames shot upward, half a hundred throats rent the air with exultant yells. From their hiding- lace the two whites could see the shadowy forms eaping and flinging their limbs, like demons in some hellish revel. he savages expected their victims would either remain within the cave until suffocated to death, or until they were compelled to rush out in = frenzy, when it was intended to tomahawk em. “ B’ars and beavers! wouldn't it do me good jist to make one or two of them imps bounce a little higher?’ remarked Biddon, | eer his rifle through the bushes and letting the gleam of the fire fall upon the barrel. “T wouldn't try it, Biddon,” pleaded Nat. “I wouldn't try it at all; it might be .dangerous—dan- gerous to the Indians, I mean,” “That’s jist what Biddon was thinking.” “Yes—I was going to say so—but I wouldn't do it, Biddon. Let them think we're in there all the time.’ **Oh! I ain’t such a fool as to fire as the case stands now.” The savages continued dancing and yelling until morning, The fire was continually replenished and kept raging; and, when daylight dawned upon them, they were satisfied their victims were already dead. The pile of glowing coals was now raked away from the entrance, and three Indians bounded within with drawn knives. Instantly after a howl of baffled fury was heard as they saw the whites had escaped. The apartment was filled with smoke and the intolerable stench of the burning peltries, and it was this which had been mistaken for that of human bodies, The savages, overcome by the sickening smell, darted out again and reported the whites gone. Another search was hurriedly made by others, which, of course, con- firmed this fact. A consultation was now held, and it was agreed they had been deceived. The two men could not have eluded them after the cave was surrounded, They must have discovered the intentions pce them and fled. The Indian who had witnessed the interview between Nat and Irene had imparted it to others, who were thus convinced that they were still lurkin in the vicinity. Just what Biddon predicted too place. The savages determined to spend the day in searching the mountains and forest, and to discover and sacrtice them. Biddon, in his concealment, read this resolve in the actions of his enemies, and assured Nat that the critical time was coming, If they could remain se- cure until dusk, he was satisfied of success, They would then steal out and meet Irene at the place ap- pointed; but if discovered— ‘We'll make a dash for the on My canoe is there, and we'll be out of their sig tin a twinklin’, We couldn’t make a run through these mountains without losin’ our ha’r.”’ So that was determined. Now and then Biddon the bushes with his rifle, so as to afford him a view of what wasgoingon, At such times he could see some of the Indians hunting round the rock, and he rightly judged there were others scattered through the wood. With characteristic thoughtful- ness, the hae had brought some beaver-meat with him, which the peril of their situation did not prevent from being enjoyed. The forenoon wore away without any alarming circumstance occurring. On three several occasions Biddon had detected the presence of their enemies by applying his ear to the ground and hearing their footsteps; but all passed away, and they had good reason to believe the crisis had gone by. “T don’t believe the fools have the slightest ee a of our being here,’”’ remarked Nat, exult- antly, Biddon instantly started, bent his head to the ground, and whispered: “It’s all up! we must make a run!”’ “Why? they haven’t seen us.” “Theard a red-skin’s step the minute you spoke. and I know he heard you speak. He’s gone to get the others.” “ rusa—"’ ** Poller me, and use your pegs!” He crawled poety, to the edge of the thicket and paused an instant. “Yonder’s the infernal imp, and he’s gettin’ ’em fast. Come, Nat tga ef you go under, you'll have the pleasure of kn ’ ‘twa'n’t nobody's fault but 11 re | your own, as I do.” As he spoke he started on a id run, his heat bent down almost to his knees. Nat followed in the same crouching manner, They had gained a dozen yards when a yell, something similar to the dreaded ‘death-halloo,"’ rose on the air, and a score of In- dians sprung toward them. The trapper instant] rose to an upright position and darted | orward wit the speed of the wind. Fortunately, there were none of their enemies in their way, and they reached the water several hundred yards in advance of all pursuers. The trapper bounded over the rocks into the boiling eddy in front of the canon, and disap- peared from view. While Nat stood a trembling, agonized spectator, he came out from beneath a ledge of rocks, holding the prow of a canoe, “Over with you!’’ he shouted, making his voice heard above the thundering din of the waters, “Nat did not hesitate, but leaped out, going far down into the caldron, As he came up he was seized by Biddon—who had already entered the boat—and hauled in, ‘Hold fast or you'll be throwed out!’’ screamed the trapper. The next instant the boat was seized by the resist- less current as if it were an eggshell, and whirled in between the rocks, As it da forward with the swiftness of a bullet, Nat heard a veice as though uttered miles away: “‘The imps ‘ll lose our ha’r after all thar trouble, for they'll never see us come out o’ this kenyon.”’ Turning, he saw the eaepers face glowing like a spirit’s, ‘All round was a hell of foam—of ripping rocks—of deafening thunder—of dizzying spinning —of oblivion! When the Indians reached the canon not a vestige: of the whites was seen, CHAPTER X, IN WHIOH IT IS SHOWN THAT IT IS NOT ALWAYS & BAD THING TO ‘SPLIT UPON A ROCK,” THE canon was over a mile in extent. It wound toward every point of the compass through a mass composed of red sandstone and silicious limestone. Overhead the walls almost touched in places, while in others the fleetest horse could not have leaped them. The action of the waters, for untold centu- ries, bad hollowed out such a vast amount of the solid material as to give it the appearance of a tun- nel partly burst open at the top, The blinding spray that continnally ascended from the turmoil of water afforded only an occasional glimpse of what was be- neath. In some places the current could be seem moving with a frightful calmness, here and there @ spot of deep emerald green visible, while in others the froth danced gayly forward, the particles seem- ing to repel each other with a peculiar shuddering motion, Upon the disappearance of the twain in this rag- ing canon, the Indians rushed forward and peered downward at different points, hoping to obtain a limpse of their bodies tossed from rock to rock. e stern of the canoe, only, was discovered as it shot from sight. Once, a dark body was seen to whirl with an awful velocity, and then it was hid from view by the mist and projecting crags, At the point where the canon issued from the mountains, and spread out into a broad, limpid stream, were stationed a score of warriors, waitin to see the fragments of the canoe or the Bete ps bodies of the whites. A couple of hours after, a loud shout was raised as the canoe appeared bottom upward, A daring savage sprung in, and, swimming until in calmer water, pulled the boat in, A minute examination followed, revealing the fact that it was split from stem to stern, and thrust through again and again by the jagged eons of the rocks against which it had been cast. But no sign of the rash ad- venturers was seen. The savages waited until dusk, when, satisfied that their bodies were wedged in the walls or mri in the vortex of some whirlpool, they withdrew. not contented that their scalps were irrevocably gone, still relieved to know that a eeerous enemy was effectually extinguished. Night slowly settled over the mountain and wood. The faint moon, obscured by the drifting clouds, threw a ghostly and uncertain light over the scene, The Indian village was quiet and motionless, Now and then a dusky form flitted into view, and was lost again in the deep shadows, The continuous, thun- dering roar of the canon was the only sound that broke the solemn stillness that otherwise held reign, Several yards from the commencement of the can- on, a sharp crag projected nearly across the top, It was on this that the most venturesome of Indian children often seated themselvés, to the consterna- tion of the more timid ones, as it was regi! over the fiercest part, and was ever dripping with the water dashed against it, Had asavage made it his duty to watch this point of the rock through the night, he would have noted something unusual and alarming, Near midnight, a dark, circular line, like the coil of a hoop-snake, shot upward beside this point and dropped beneath. This was repeated four times, when, for the of ten minutes, no further move- ment could have been noticed, At theend of that time a slight eee took place, and an instant after, a human head rose to view and as quickly dis- ap ag Scarce a minute ela: ere it rose once more, and was followed by a pair of massive shoulders. Remaining a foot above the surface, the bushy head moved around as if ona PErOky and had Keep close, don’t make no noise, and @ it not been for the deafening roar, the following: words could have been heard: ‘Thar’ don’t a to be none of the imps around. it. now and ef they don’t think we've gone under time, then Bill Biddon never raised ha’r of @ red this side of the Mississipp. Wagh!”
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| | f ce a cae The ponderous form of the trapper now heaved up | ‘from the chasm, and was instantly extended flat up- -on the rocks, A minute after, a conical point rose to view, ascending higher and higher, until the peak- ed hat, the dilated eyes, and glowing face of Nat “Todd were visible in the pale moonlight. Sure they’re all gone, Biddon?”’ ** Yas—be quick and flop out.” “Tt required no second admonition for our hero to **flop out.’’ Hardly were the words uttered before his angular legs beat the air and he slid dextrously backward beside Biddon. ‘*Now jump to t'other side and make for cover!” | added the latter, springing over and shooting across | toward the wood. Nat skurried after him, experiencing that peculiar ‘sensation that afflicts one who is momentarily ex- pecting the prick of several arrows in the rear. The shadows of the wood reached, they halted for con-, | | belts of clearings to be crossed at long intervals, sultation, **I tell you what, Biddon, I come nearer to death that time than I ever did before!”’ ** Shoot me ef it wa’n’t as close a rub I b’l’eve as I ever had. Things looked kind o’ dub’ous when we went into that kenyon.”’ ‘How in the name of Heaven did you think to bring that rope with you?” ; “Wagh! I told yer it wa’n't sure death to go in ‘there, though ’twas next to it. I brought that lasso with me and laid it in the boat a month ago.” “Ugh! it makes me shudder to think of that awful wide, and our stay on that rock, and the time when I was climbing up, when I dangled right in the midst of the dashing spray. S’posen’ that thong had broke! Where would I have been?’ “Never mind; you're right side up for the present, I've spent many an hour along the Me aad part of that kenyon, seein’ how ‘twas built, and what chance a feller would have who was sucked in it. ness, sure. Yes, sir. I've throwed in big chunks of wood, and then watched their capers,” f Playing, as I suppose.”’ “Tt was that playin’ that saved you this time. I noticed that on an average, three times out of seven, each chunk of wood was carried right over a big flat rock, where, if it only had turned to stone, it would have sunk and staid, being as the water was rather mild jist there.. Not bein’ a stone, howsumever, it washed away. In course I cluded a feller what was drawed in there would stand three chances out of seven of bein’ carried on that same rock, whar, ef he was lively like, he might grab and hold on, and get breath afore goin’ any furder. Now, Nat, the fool- ishest notion I ever had in my life was to take a shoot down that same kenyon, and I made up my mind to come back here some day and try it. at extra ex- pense was saved, as we've jist seen. Our boat was carried on that very rock, where it split in two and spilled us out. I growed heavy all at once, and stuck to the rock like a dog to a root, and held you on, When we got the use of our pegs it wa’n’t no hard gob to keep our places, though we had to stand in a oot of water and hold on fast with our hands, toes, accident that cracked the boat jist in that place. was the best rock to split on “Tt wasn't an accident, Biddon; it was the provi- lence of God—one of those that He is forever strew- ing before us.” S'pose so—but how "bout Irene?” ** Jerusalem! I forgot all about that lovely maiden!”’ “You'd better manage to let her know you're yet kickin’, for ‘tain’t likely she has any more s’picion we're blabbin’ above ground than the reds have. Wash! that war a ride, down that kenyon, sure!”’ The conversation recorded will give the reader an insight into the reason, or more properly the cause that led the trapper to adopt his original method o eluding the savages, It was not, by any means, that it was the only one at his command; for the most veritable tyro could have retreated a mile or two in the forest and concealed himself until the search of the Indians was completed. But it was a peculiarity —an infatuation—of the eccentric Biddon to attempt the feat of entering the canon in the very face of death. His long familiarity with peril may have in- duced this extraordinary desire in a mind otherwise 80 well balanced and cautious—there being a species of insane ecstasy in defying the King of Terrors to his very face. Besides, Biddon did not lose sight of the great ad- vantage gained in case they escaped the fate their very course invited. The Indians had now no fear of them, and the way was consequently left open for the attempts they wished to make. There was one soft spot in the old mountaineer’s heart, He loved the two orphans with a yearning, eeeeyy, boggy’ and he had. more than once intimated to Nat that, could he be satisfied both were restored to civilization and happiness, his desire for life would be ended. He had no further object to live for—he was well ad- vanced in years, and the last journey could be as well taken at once. ° From his remarks at different times, Nat was led to suspect he had a presentiment of his dissolution. The religious fear that characterized Nat's actions— his repeated conversations of heaven, of hell, and the reunion of friends beyond the tomb, seemed to sensibly affect the weather-beaten hunter. He dis- cover dian warrior—often spoke of wandering in and teeth. It was a luck e great I knowed ef | he ever got twenty yards in it he’d get his last sick- many ideas similar to those borne by the In” | that it had not occurred to him before to do this. As stated, th®hour was near midnight, and he had lit- tle fear of encountering any danger on the way. The distance around to the grove, where he had agreed to meet Irene, was half a mile, and he was compell- ed to make a detour to avoid the Indian village. As there was no reason why Biddon should remain in | this particular spot, the two moved forward to- gether. While within the shade of the wood, the gloom was so Hea as to effectually conceal them from an night-walkers in the vicinity; but there were sma where there was naturally some risk run. At such laces, one or two long, noiseless bounds carried the rapper over, while Nat slunk after him with nimble steps. 1e entire distance was passed without any thing occurring to excite alarm, Biddon knew the spot | well enough to reach it from the directions Nat had given the day before; and before the latter suspect- cd they were anywhere near it, his companion halt- ed. Our hero was about to speak, when a hand was laid upon his shoulder. “Sh! down! there’s somebody besides us in those parts!’ They were still a number of yards from the arbor, as it might properly be termed, or these words would not have been added to what was already ers to make Nat as cautious as the prowling ast. ‘*Maybe,”’ he whispered, “it’s her—Irene—the Lares maiden herself, : “Wait, and lay low for a while.” Both sunk noiselessly downward until they blend- ed with and seemed a part of the ground itself, Here they remained, silent and motionless, for the space of fifteen minutes, when the ears of both de- tected a slight rustle, like the footfall of a bird upon the leaves. Biddon drew his knife from his belt, clutched it firmly, while he gathered himself, ready for the fatal spring as soon as it became unavoida- able. A suppressed ‘‘ ugh!’’ was heard, and the next minute the form of an Indian glided by them, so close that either could have touched him with their hands, although the trained orbs of the trapper were barely sufficient to detect the faintest outline of the savage, who trod thus nigh to his own des- truction. “The way is clear now!”’ whispered Biddon, a mo- ment after. ‘Are you sure that wasn’t Irene?” asked Nat, eagerly. : Waght it was as bloody a red-skin as e’er clinched ha’r or brained a baby in its mother’s arms.” “What could he be doing here this. time of night?” “Don't you ‘spicion?” **T have not the remotest idea.” ‘* He war hyer, then, to see us /” “ How do you know that?” “Ah! Nat, you've got a heap to l’arn yit. The red has see’d you when you had that talk with Irene, and he has been out here watching for you.” “But if he saw me, why didn’t he kill me then? He might, for I’m very sure I didn’t see anything of him, And besides, I suppose the Indian believed we were dead, having gone down that dreadful canon. ‘Depend on it, Nat, the words Bill Biddon has to say jist now’are as true as gospil. That red has | see’d you, and he has s’pected the truth. He didn’t want to send his arrer into yer until he war sure what be were up to, and then you can make up your mind he wouldn’t have been long *bout it. He hasn’t been that sure that we’d wiped ourselves out but what he thought it wouldn’t hurt him any to keep a watch, and he has been hyer ever since dark. How- sumever, you can make up your mind that he won't watch any longer for us.”’ It is perhaps proper to state, at this point, that this savage was the one who had seen the interview be- tween our hero and heroine, and whose motives and actions were really the same as remarked by the trapper. The lingering suspicions he entertained re- lating to the death of our two friends were now en- tirely dissipated. ‘*But maybe Irene is here also,”’ ventured Nat, as the two once more moved forward, with much less caution than had characterized their movements up to this point. ‘No, sir!’ replied Biddon, with marked em- hasis. pm I wish she was; it would so help matters along, particularly if she should have three splendid horses and something good to eat, “Keep quiet, Nat; there’s no use gabbin’ that way.” a was only remarking—”’ Ere yet the exclamation was out of his mouth, a cold shadow brushed by him'so close as tomake him recoil and feel the wind directly in his face. “What's the matter?” asked Biddon, who noticed the oe cmamenton, a you See an hing * No, sir, nor you either. : Half-bime Library, “Ef it war you wouldn’t have time to wonder. Some bird, I tell you.” * And I tell you it wasn’t. I can tell a bird; it was nearly as tall as me, and as black as Egypt. It was nothing less than a ghost.” ; The trapper uttered an exclamation of displeasure; for, to own the truth, he was somewhat flustere himself. In fact, the occurrences which we have recorded in relation to the sister of our hero- ine were never fully explained to his mind. His re- marks, more than once, had shown that it wore a supernatural appearance to him; and he was now paren for something similar in regard to Irene. his impression was slight at present, and he strove to convince himself that Nat’s vision was at fault; but the positive assertions of the latter made him doubt and waver, and he by no means felt easy. As if to upset him more completely, Nat remarked: “You know, Biddon, how queer Imogene made her appearance to us, and like as not this one is go- ing to do the same. I don’t care much if she does. As long as I'm sure the things ain't real flesh-and- blood Indians, I know they can’t hurt me, and I ain’t half as much afraid.” : And just here lay the difference between our two friends. There wasa tinge of superstition in our hero but probably his greatest peculiarity was that of viewing everything with a strong common sense, Thus he was taught that if in an Indian affray, he could get off without giving battle, even though vic- tory was pretty sure to crown a well-directed effort, stil the chances of a broken head were infinitely less; and, consequently, it was best to retreat. For the same reason if surrounded by invisible spirits, he could surely receive no physical harm from their hands, and it was utter foolishness to feel alarm. Biddon, possessed of the lion’s courage, shared the lion’s weakness. Their only danger was from that which could not be understood. A hurried, whispered consultation was held, which ended in both deserting the place at once. 'Biddon led the way deeper into the wood, proceeding so as - to leave asslight a trail as possible, A half-mile was posed when they reached a deep ravine, in which hey entered and halted. It was a a time since they had slept, and rolling up in their blankets, they concluded to gain what repose they could. The trapper trusted to his acute sense of hearing to warn him of the approach of danger. When Nat awoke his companion was gone, A: first he supposed him to be somewhere near him, and he lay still; but, when several hours passed without bringing him, he experienced some uneasi ness. Noon came and went and brought no signs ot the fugitive, and he was now tormented by the most intensé fear for his companion. He was upon the point of setting out to search for him, when a series of yells, so wild and dreadful, were heard from tbe village, as to curdle his very blood. CHAPTER XI. IN WHICH THERE IS A MOVE FORWARD. A MOMENT after, the bushes at the top of the ra vine parted and an Indian bounded down and ran wth the speed of wind directly through the gorge, within a few feet of our hero, ‘The latter, as soon as the intruder bad passed, hurried several yards fur- ther back and ensconced bimself in a mass of under- growth, where a pair of lynx eyes would have failed to discover him. The yells still continued, gradually sounding loud- er and nearer, as though a body of savages were ap- roaching. A fearful suspicion that Biddon had allen into their hands chained Nat to the spot. Presently, the any of feet was heard, and a score of Indians hurried through the ravine, Several leaped down at the very spot the first one did, while the others entered the ravine at the point where our two friends did the night before. Several whoops were given in the gorge, which echoed with an ap- paling enck through the rocky sides. Ten minutes after they had passed, an Occasional yell was heard in the distance. As may be supposed, these proceedings occasioned not a little alarm and anxiety t/ Nat. What could be the object that led these Indians through the ravine? hat meant their yells? It seemed the first must have been a flying fugitive from the others. Perhaps he had commit some crime— perhaps a murder; or, he might be a member of some hostile tribe, who had stolen into the village and had been discovered, or a prisoner who had broken his bonds and fled, No noise or confusion’ toward the Indian town told of any unwonted alarm, Now and then the faint yells in the woods showed that the pe was still maintained. Not until dark durst Nat venture from his hiding: place. He clambered at once out of the ravine, and made his way toward the arbor which has been so often referred to. The absenve of Biddon occasioned him much uneasiness, and he could not rid himself of the belief that he had fallen into their enemies’ hands. Nat held a genuine friendship for the man, but let the matter be as it might, he Feit he could do him no d. If it were within the ra of human possib: to escape, the ges would do it himself, When Nat reached the arbor it was quite dark, Admonished by what he had seen the hight before, he was extremely cautious in his movements. He hunting-grounds beyond the setting sun. There evi- “My gracious! that was a ghost then, as sure as | made his way within it, and seated himself in order was some buried love the remembrance of | you live.” to collect his thoughts, which, as yet, had taken no which often saddened his hours. He listened intent- ** What do you mean?” asked Biddon, in a tone of | definite form. As he mused upon h riences _ly to Nat’s words; and, during the winter spent in | vexation. for the last day or two, he saw he had still a great “eave, had o' inquired, with the sim- “Something as cold as ice brushed by my face | risk to run. the Indians were firmly convinced hy of a child, of heavenly truths, hero | just asI ce al ; that he was dead, it was reasonable to supposes that ver failed to improve these moments, and was ““Wagh! some owl or bat.” Irene thought the same, and before hoping te suc uced, and “No, it wasn’t; it touched my feet, knees, and | ceed it was necessary to assure her of
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ey some means or other. Here lay tae great diffi- | éulty. How to succeed was more chan Nat could | i tell, aad in all probability he wovid 1ever have suc- ceeded had not an unforeseen event assisted him. While still musing, he heard % dul) stamp upon the ground within a few feet of ira, Nothing else was audible, and the manner iu *vhich it was repeated made him sure that his ova Dresence was unknown. His perplexity was releved by hearing the faint whinny of a horse! Nat’3 heart thrilled within him as he reflected that irene might be within reach of his voice. He utteved her name in a whisper, re- peating it severa) tires in a louder key until he was eonvinced that she was not there. He now made his way carefully out of the arbor, and in a few minutes liscovered tw horses standing side by side and se- cured to the arb of a tree. An examination showed ; that each vias, furnished with an Indian bridle and saddle. Mat instantly vaulted into one of the lat- ter, “ural, this must have been made for me! It fits exact.y. ’ It w7s rather a rash proceeding in him to thus venture upon a horse of which he knew nothing. He was really a fine horseman, however, and it was only tbrough his utmost skill that he maintained his seat. The animal quieted down somewhat in a moment, though ne still felt uneasy at the strange vider upon him. ; ‘*Now, if Irene was onl wouldn't wait, but be o should like to see old Biddon just now.” The reverie into which he was now falling was : broken by a voice, uttered in a suppressed tone of caution, ** Me-ento-en Walgeando?’’* “Yaw; nix cum arous!” answered Nat, gravely. An exclamation of surprise followed this, and in- ang the question came in slightly broken Eng- ish. “Ts that you, my friend?”’ “Yes, yes; it’s me, Nat Todd. Is that you, Irene? I'm mighty glad to see you; being it’s so dark I can’t eatch the first glimpse of you; but I’m just as glad.” ; “Hush! you may be heard. Where is the trap- rr?’ | “ Heaven save him! I haven't the least idea.”’ ** He told me he would be here.” ** Told you that! Where did you see him?” ““Tsaw a signal this afternoon in the woods that made me suspect that one of you, at least, was liv- ing, although no other mortals could have sur- vived that terrible descent into the canon. I made my way to it and found Biddon, the man who would have saved the lives of my dear parents, had they heeded his advice in time. ~ He told me how you two had escaped, and were only waiting for me to commence your flight. He asked me to bring three horses to this place, where I would find you and him, I did 80 and one of the horses is gone! What can it mean? **It does look queer, but I shouldn’t wonder if Bid- don has taken one of the horses himself. - It is just like him. We will wait until he comes.” “No, he told me if he was not here I must not wait a minute for him, He seemed excited about } something, and made me promise to start as soon as oucame. There isdanger in our remaining. I told fan what direction we would take, and he will follow us. We will start at once.” “Goon, Ireny, and lead the way.” The woman wheeled her horse’s head toward the south, and started him on a rapid walk. The under- wth and tree-branches compelled Nat to keep in e rear, for the present at least, although he had a ’ hundred questions he burned to ask, and his heart beat so tumultuously with his great love that he ! felt he could not sustain it much longer. Once or | twice he ventured a remark, but the snapping limbs ; kept his head bobbing incessantly, and generally } ended each sentence with an impatient ejaculation. } Irene seemed to glide like a bird through the wood, : here,’’ mused Nat, “we neither halting nor dodging, and yet avoiding every branch or obstruction, An hour’s riding, and they em into a more open country. Nat’s. horse leaped to the side of Irene’s, and he commenced his questions: ‘What direction do you intend to follow, Irene? Toward the Oregon 1?” “Yes; that is the one your friend mentioned. God Mapesews Sulgae “ l take od : ot $s —why, you do not ret step?” as Nat, in astoniabinent, met P “No, no; but oh! I am so excited to think I will petane — my-dear sister again. Does she think I am **No—gracious alive! She has never thought of you—that is, I mean she hasn't had the least idea that you are living, or that she should ever meet you on this earth n. Won't she be glad tosee you?” “Tam so afraid we shall be followed by the In- toe in the morning. They will kill us both, if they “Can't these horses trot any?” ‘ “ Yes—there are none swifter in the tribe; still, I am afraid.” **T ain't!” exclaimed Nat; “ they'll have to go over when it comes dead body to get you, and I think Cale fighting part eon will find Bill Biddon about. But, Ireny, what was all that noise in the village about, ths afternoon?” “A warrior from another tribe killed two children of ours, and was seen and pursued.” 5 li * This is pronounced a little differently from what itis spelled. In the Indian tongue in which it was uttered, it mean, ‘Is that you, Walgeando?” It must be remembered that although our hero was in a minute, though I | | night he seemed to have given over all fear,” | or I should not have passed so close to you. ’ 2 Nat Toda “Did they get him?” ° ‘‘ His pursuers have not returned, I am afraid they will not, and when they find I am gone they will be doubly enraged.” “It won't do any good, for Nat Todd is around juss now. I just thought, Ireny, I saw a ghost last night.’ “A ghost! what do you mean?” asked his com-! panion, in astonishment. “ A spook—a spirit.” ** Where did you see it?” ‘In the arbor, from which we have started.” ‘* Were you there last night?” “Certainly; Biddon, too. We were looking for you,” me It was me you saw.” ‘You?’ repeated Nat, amazed in turn, ‘‘Wh didn’t you speak and let us know who you were? We might have started then, and been a long ways on our journey now.” “T did not know you. I found an Indian was watching me before you came; and when I heard your voices I thought more had come, and glided out so as to avoid them. You were directly in my path I heard you speak after I passed, and once I thought it might ye you, but I was too frightened to venture back.” “Why do you think you were watched?’ ‘*T saw the savage the night before. He kept his eyes upon me during the day in a manner that ex- cited my suspicion, though after he had gone last Our two friends had now crossed the open space over which Nat had been pursued by the savages, as mentioned in a former chapter. Striking off to the right, they reached the margin of the river, beside | which they continued their journey. The country was open, but of a rugged, stony character. The moon was not so full as usual, and objects could not be distinguished at a greater distance than thirty yards. Irene, who had wandered to great distances on several occasions, with her tribe, knew what. di- rection to take to reach the Oregon Trail, and Nat certainly had cause to remember it, “Tf we could conceal our trail,” remarked Trene, ‘*T would not feel that fear which torments me,” “ We cannot leave many signs in this flinty earth.” ‘*Bnough to guide them as well as if they saw us.” ‘When it comes to that, as I said before, we have horses which are surely able to run as well as any of the tribe.” “‘T know that, and yet I cannot—” Irene suddenly paused with a gasp of alarm. “What's the matter?” breathlessly asked Nat, “ Something is following us /” replied his companion, in a hoarse whisper. i Nat wheeled as quick as lightning in his saddle and peered into the darkness behind him, “Do you see anything?’’ asked Irene, “Yes; there is something, but I believe it’s ¢uty a proms i wolf; I just now saw it trot backward ou. of sight.’ “Thank heaven! the rustle of eve”, oush disturbs Se Se glad that it is nothing more than a wild animal,” “You are Sapam too easily; you should—” ‘Sh! there it is again, in front of us. Look! do you see it?” A shadow crossed their, path, making long, bound- ing leaps, as if cantering in sport. ‘He robably hungry, and imagines if he cuts up some fancy capers for us, we'll make him a pres- ent of re eat.” ‘*He surely acts strange. I should think he would make some noise.” They conversed still, their horses walking rapidly and bre into a canter when a level portion was reached. e@ supposed wolf ys with them, sometimes whisking so close to their horses’ heads as to startle them, and then disappearing down the river bank, Nat regarded his actions as eccentric. and had no objection to them so long as he refrained from bringing any of his companions to him, He could not help noticing the alarm of his fair com- panion. When the wolf appeared unusually close she started as much as her animal, and kept her ied wandering continually as if searching for the What time. f night d pose it is?” asked meé 0 t do you sup it is?” Nat, in hope of diverting her thoughts. “T wish that thing would keep away,” she replied, without heeding his question. “ Are you alarmed?” “T do not feel at ease as around us so strangely.” ‘*] will set you at ease in a minute, then.” Nat cocked his rifle and held it ready to fire the in- stant the thing appeared. In a moment he saw it tumbling like a dark bundle a few yards in advance. He bce ng his gun to his shoulder, took as good aim as possible, and fired. e supposed wolf instantly rose on his hind legs, gave vent toa has tpt a ac yell, at the same secon that a tomahawk whizzed within a few inches of Nat’seyes. Then it shot away like a meteor and dis- appeared in the darkness. “That's the queerest wolf I ever fired at. Who knowed he carried concealed weapons about him,” remarked Nat, after the first pause of astonishment, “It was the Indian who watched me, He has fol- lowed us,” whispered Irene, “If Thad had the slightest idea that wolf walked on two | instead of four, I'd taken more pains with my than I did, and done some more than just to lame him a bit. But, Ireny, 3 a pyr way for an Indian todo. What do you make rey bal ““T know not why he did it, unless he intended to long as that is wheeling ie acquainted with several of the In tongues, he | wait until we stopped, and then hurry back for some Ae knew nothing of this one. eo of his companions and attack us.” Ss 3 . "ee eh 5 bs ta x. see 4: te ‘ % r ee " ‘eae 7 : re: y , _ ee Ss a2 pee, ho See re: want dl penal % = F ré wiles Be “My gracious! he might have shot me a dozer times, and I never knowed it until he hit me. Only think how he has been sneaking round us, and we talking all the time and not Agape who he was! “He had nothing with him, or he would have shot you. His object was to watch us, 1 guess he was hurt.” “Not enough to prevent his eee back, and bringing a lot of imps on our trail. Itell you, Irene, we must get over ground faster than this, I wasn’t sear’t much before this wolf affair. I didn’t believe, the dogs had any idea that Nat Todd was still above the ground, The way that one throwed his toma hawk at my head showed he was pretty certain ) wasn't there yet.” Both horses struck into a canter, which gait was. kept up until daylight. Only then they ceasec through fear of being overtasked, Nat reined in close to the river-bank, just as the sun rose over the prairie, Their animals were magnificent ones, of wonderful. speed and bottom; but the long ride had sensibly fatigued them, and it was a wise course to» give them a couple of hours’ rest. Despe the ro mantic situation in which Nat found himbelf—witl the care of the being who had visited his dreams for over a year—the happy owner of a love so great as to bring a scornful laugh when he thought of Sarat Almina in Maine happened to come to him—the vie. tim of a tormenting fear of pursuit—despite all these, we repeat, the most pressing trouble was his appetite! He had fasted a long time, and remarked to his companion that he must secure something oretty soon, or he should be tempted to eat her? eaving her with the horses, he wandered down the: river-bank, and was fortuna’ e enough to bring down afat duck that rose from the water’s edge. With this he hastened back to Irene, who, with his flint and steel, had already kindled a fire. The duck wes soon picked, dressed, skewered, roasted and eaten— he, good-naturedly, compelling his fair charge to feast her utmost upon it. During the halt the horses had cropped their full, and were well prepared to resume their toilsome march. The two remounted and struck off toward the south, hoping to accom- plish a long distance ere nightfall. When about five miles further upon their journey,, Nat’s horse trod upon a rolling stone, and stumbled. As he recovered himself he limped badly, and drop. ped into a painful walk. Nat d smounted, and upowr examining it, saw, with unfeigned alarm that the ankle was sprained, Tue horse could be of no, fur ther use to him. “Let him rest « moment,” said Irene, “ and we wil} ride slow)” Hoping he mignt be deceived, Nat let the hors¢ rest a short time; out, upon starting him, the injureé leg was found to be still worse. ‘“*Tt’s no use,” he said, ‘‘the longer he stands the worse he will get. He must be let alone to himself, He will be able to get enough grass to keep him alive, He can’t do us any more good. Go ahead, Irena, and I will walk beside you.” This misfortune affected his companion greatly. She urged Nat to take her own horse, even offering to dismount herself if he deemed the load too great; but, of course, this offer was declined, the excuse being that the entire strength and wind of her ani- mal would be needed for her own safety. ‘“* But if pursued?” she asked. “ You can get away, at least.” * And what will become of you?” ‘Heaven bless your sweet soul, I wouldn’t mind d for you, to show you how much I love—I think: of you. But don't be frightened, Ireny, for I tell you that trapper is about, and will turn up somewhere at the right minute.” re My horse surely is able to carry us both.” “Well, my dear, when it comes to the worst, per+ haps I'll mount beside you and try the bottom he seems to possess; but as it is Pll try walking a while, I declare, I shouldn't like anything better than a ten- mile tramp, just for exercise. Such a walk ought te have been en before,” Thus fied, Irene consented to Nat’s plan, keep: ing her horse on a walk, in the face of his urgent re- quest that he should proceed faster. He left his horse where he had failed, his trappings with him. He had some hope that, if pursued, the chase would be gre up as useless when it was discovered how well-moun the fugitives were. He knew, how- ever, that if the disabled horse was found, their ene- mies would a on with renewed diligence. An- other probability, upon which he based, perhaps, his strongest hope, was, that the start obtained would afford them time to reach Lewis river, along whose banks there was good reason to expect emigrants at this season of the year. We might, with justice, say that the time passed pleasantly to Nat. There. was just enough exer- cise to give a zest to his conversation, and he kept oY a continuous stream of talk. He went over the whole history of his adventures since leaving Maine, not omitting a promise he gave a New York publisher to furnish him with an account of his travels, upon his return to civilization. He believed his experience was worth giving the world, and expressed his deter- mination to do it as soon as he was settled down and married. As he uttered the last word, he stole a sly glance from under the corner of his hat at Irene t see the effect prema She eoaveres interested i what he said, but pene ta hy that. lated a long story about Sarah Almina in Lu ding emphati that he never thought any of her, and she was ou fit for such a fellow as B Hankins. Had Irene Merment been educated in civ- ilized soctety, she could have easily read the heart of Nat Todd, and comprehended situation in which he must that so ex his ire; the cited uilelees little dreamt the truth, hie pointe Epalpable nite
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14 of admiration—in fact, of love—from him, were en- tirely lost upon her, Her silence was taken for acqui- escence, and Nat grew bolder and bolder, until he found Irene staring wonderingly at him, totally at a loss to understand his meaning. Fearful then, that he had gone too far, he blushed finely, coughed loud- ly, and stammered foolishly. It might have been that she had an inkling of what lay at the bottom of his words, but she betrayed it by no word or ac- tion. At intervals, Irene swept the entire horizon, on the alert for any suspicious sign, and it was not probable that her trained eyes would fail to detect the ap- proach of danger, The excitement of her new situa- tion, the thrilling hope, the agonizing fear almost annerved her. For a long time she would calm down and listen attentively to Nat's words, and then sud- denly start and glance around her, alarmed at her re- missness of duty. At noon, when they halted for a short rest, she took a searching look, as usual, behind her, and Nat noticed that she started, and continued her gaze an extraordinary length of time. **Do: you see any thing to alarm you?” he asked. “There is a buffalo or horseman in the distance. | t sky seems to touch | his head a moment as if in meditation. Look away yonder, where the the prairie.” The slight elevation she had, aided by her power- ful vision, gave her a better view than Nat; but the Jatter, after following the direction of her finger, and straining his orbs, detected a small quivering speck, in relief against the blue horizon. It was like a star seen at noonday vision, but perfectly was certainly approaching, as it visibly increased in size and clearness, “What do you make of it?"’ she asked. “T can’t see anything but a spot.” “Tt’s a man riding on a full run; and, I fear, the Indian who troubled us last night.” “My gun is loaded pretty near to the muzzle,” re- marked Nat, shutting one eye and squinting into the barrel, ‘ and if that wolf in Indian’s Crh pane or that Indian in wolf's agiewnee gets within hailing distance, he’ll imagine a thunderbolt smashed against his forehead and exploded. No danger of any missing this time.” “Be ready, for I cannot see how it can be avoided. He is fearless, and does not slacken the speed of his horse in the least.” * Don’t be frightened, Ireny, for I'll fight till death for you.” He gave her a look of honest, devoted love, and for the first time Nat saw a deep tinge suffuse her face to the temples. His heart throbbed wildly, and _ he felt able to vanquish a whole tribe of screaming Indians. Meantime the horseman was rapidly approaching, and the gaze of our two friends was fixed upon him with the most intense anxiety. Nigher and nigher he came, until Nat cocked his rifle and held it ready for instant use. Suddenly he smiled, let the ham- yer down again, and remarked to Irene: ‘* Bill Biddon! as sure as we are alive!" CHAPTER XII. WHICH ENDS THE TALE. Tue trapper approached ona rapid canter, and, when within hailing distance, shouted: “What you waitin’ for?” “Why, you,” returned Nat. 4 There's no time to stop/ the imps are on your ©acks! “Where? how do you know this?”’ “Tsee’d ’em gittin’ ready, and I started out ahead ef em last night. ‘Will they overtake us? What will be the end of this, Biddon?”’ asked Nat, in a lower tone, as the trapper rode up. ‘There'll be some ha’r-raising done, sure.”’ “ Jerusalem!" yelled our hero, springing in the air, “why don’t you get ripping mad, Biddon? I never swore in my life, but it seems it would be a re- lief to now. What is going to become of that lovely maiden there?” “She needn’t be tuk—her horse can’t be cotched by any four- nimal,”’ D th rief conversation Irene sat silent. Her tation had even way to a settled calmness. She was pale and bloodless, but a strong resolution seemed to sustain her soul, Biddon, as Nat uttered the last remark, glanced at her a moment, and then, Jeaning over his saddle, motioned for Nat to come nigher. Reo er, Todd, get on my hoss and put with that al. I'l cover your trail and keep them painted imps behind till you’re out the reach—” “How?” ** By droppin’ a pill among Sn and ef it comes to clus quarters, pitch in and go er in Srtona sy le, Come, Todd, you’re young and love that gal. ) days for sich feelin’s has with Bill Biddon. Come, hop on and be off.” **Never!”’ replied Nat, stepping back, and uttering the sentiments of his very soul. ‘You've saved my life more than once, Bill Biddon, and if I ever take advantage of you, may the Just One above strike me dead oy dad tracks! It may séem a contradiction to our readers for us to represent Nat Todd, at the commencement of his yublished career, as guilty of timidity, if not some- imes cowardice, and to picture him as of the most genuine courage, as we have above, and in instances in these But, in Lay doe we are penser we here o ms Mice ay od ai true character, It is a question with many w er he who lacks in bravery can ever rid himself of his defi- elency—many affirming it to be a defect whi bea inborn, will ever cling to a person. While there difficult to find in the field of | distinct when discovered. It | | pearance, The trapper’s next s | Half-Dime Library. | strong reason for this view of the case, it must be remembered that the bravest have manifested fear at the dawn of danger. The man who turns pale at the commencement of battle is the most valiant soldier. It is the newness of danger that alarms the courageous. Could a man who is known in civilized society as a true hero be removed to the midst of a vast wilderness where he had. the wily Indian to encounter, his timidity would be mistaken for the most contemptible cowardice, and yet. in all probability, the same man would after- ward distinguish himsel by his deeds of daring. At the first appearance of peril; Nat Todd was apt to shrink, and as long as it was not criminality to re- treat, he would do so. There was a spice of Shrewd- ness in his character, and, while still a tyro in the western wilds, there is no disguising the faet of his timidity; but his long acquaintancest ip with Indian life, together with his love of adventure, made him in some cases even reckless, The magnanimous con- duct of Biddon had strengthened his admiration into the sincerest friendship, and there is no sacrifice that Nat would not have w was why he repelled his offer most emphatically. The trapper, after this decided refusal, dropped * Are we not losing time?” gently reminded Irene. “Yes, we ar’, Nat, I’dlike to walk some, Jist get on and ride.” “*Tshan’t do it, Biddon; so don’t say any more about it. I would as lief walk or run a dozen miles more as not. I understand what you are at, but it won't do.” “Ff you had a hoss—”’ ‘* He give out, several miles back.” “T know; I found him and feared the imps would come onto him. So I led him down to the river, put a bullet between his eyes, tied a big stone round his neck, and tumbled him into deep water, whar’ you'll have to hunt a while to find him.” ‘*Let us go on, Biddon, for every minute seems a mile lost. at do you propose to do?” ‘*Thar’s no use cuttin’ round the stump; _ thar’s got to be a fight made. ‘Bout two miles further ahead thar’s a place whar’ we'll strike camp and make astand, The gal might get off, while we staid to fight, but it wouldn’t do to trust her. Ef we should go under, she’d be distracted and wouldn’t know what to do. Ef she had a rifle we'd stand a better chance, Howsumever, it’s no use talkin’; so let’s move.”’ Our friends moved forward at a rapid walk, Bid- don conversing, and imparting to Irene and Nat the course he intended to pursue. He had left the latter it will be remembered, in the ravine. In doing so, it was his intention to convey to Irene, by some means or other, his presence in the wood, and return to Nat by the time he awoke. But he was compelled to maneuver the whole forenoon around the village be- fore he succeeded, and it was only then by a most fortunate accident. Near night Irene found oppor- tunity to steal to the wood for a moment. But this movement, guarded as it was, did not escape the eage-eyes of the Indians. Such a step upon the part of Irene at any other time would have been scarcely noticed; but, after what had transpired, they sus- pected everything. Irene was stealthily followed, and it was only by the most consummate skill that the trapper avoided a collision with them. Their watchfulness did not escape him, and it was for this reason he remained behind. The confusion, ocea- sioned by the discovery and pursuit of the Indian scout, afforded Irene an opportunity of getting the horses mentioned to the rendezvous. Just at dusk, Biddon visited this spot, secured one of the horses, and withdrew into one of the recesses of the forest. He lingered in the rear until nearly morning, when he saw. pe yrgcaminnnt that her flight had been dis- covered and a pursuit was preparing. He started on the trail of the two fugitives at once, and by dint of hard riding, overtook them, as mentioned. ‘* Yonder,” said Biddon, potating ahead, “is the place whar’ the stand must be made, Yas, sir,” A half-hour’s ride brought them to the spot; and as it is necessary (in order to understand what fol- lows) for the reader to have an idea of the situation of our friends, we pause a moment to describe it, The spot chosen was on the open prairie, a quarter of a mile distant from the wooded bottom of the river which they had hitherto followed. loca- tion was selected by the trapper in order to avoid any concealment which might shelter their enemies, They could only approach over an on plain, where they would be targets for two rifles. Here our friends commenced at once to construct a fort, In- deed, from the appearance of Bitags, it was not at all improbable that the materials chey used had an- swered that 8D 5 8 gy before, There were some twenty or thirty huge bowlders lying in an irregular circle. The best idea of their location and size can be given, by supposing a bu te (a vast, toweri rock) to have split into over a score of pieces, wit force just sufficient to lay them twenty feet from the center. The prodigious strength of Biddon, assisted by Nat, soon. completed the circle. The rocks were roll- ed together, the chinks filled in with smaller frag- ments, so as to afford no entrance for a stray bullet or arrow. When the fort was completed, it was found that a breastwork a’ ng about four feet in hight was afforded. Behind this they could kneel and fire with deadly aim, The rocks whose immense weight prevented their them to the top were rolled against the base, and, viewed from the out- side, the little citadel presented no insignificant ap- was to take the two horses and lead them far out on the prairie, describing an arc of a vast circle, and then approach the river-bottom at a point below the fort, that is toward the mouth of illingly made for him, This | the river. Here he rode one into the river, leading the other, and waded them several hundred yards down-stream, when he came ashore, and, securing them both, made his way back on a run, The object of this movement was to preserve the use of the animals to themselves. If their trail should be fol- lowed by the Indians, it would mislead them at the point of entrance into the water, and the presence of the whites would prevent any extended search being made. Biddon did not forget to fill a small, eculiar canteen, which he ever carried about him, rom the river. “Thar’s no tellin’ how long we'll be cooped up thar, b’ars and beavers ef there is, and the stu can’t do no hurt,” he remarked to himself. _As he bounded over the bowlders before Irene and Nat, who were conversing rather earnestly just then, his = flashed with the fire of youth, and his heart throbbed faster than was its wont; for he felt he was shortly to engage in one of those struggles of life and death in which he had so reveled in years agone. “* Biddon,”’ observed Nat, rather thoughtfully, ‘I | can not help thinking we might have improved our time better in flight. We could have made a long distance, it seems, and reached a point where these savages would not dare to fall on us,” “Todd,” replied Biddon, with a quiet half-smile, ‘when I first knowed you Tused toca you * Greeny,’ and I sometimes thinks it’s yer best handle yit. Howsumever, it’s as plain as that ha’ron yer upper lip—which can’t be see’d very well—that you don’t understand the ways of red-skins yet. They’d have follered us for days, and overtaken us at a place whar we wouldn't have had a tree, rock or lump of earth to cover us, and they would have wiped every one of us out, Them imps,” added the trap- per, speaking in a whisper, and fixing his eyes upon hose of our hero, ** them imps, sir, will be in sight in less nor a helf-hour!” Nat recoiled at these words, and they did not es- cape the ear of Irene, who only turned a shade paler, and compressed her thin, bloodless li It was now near the middle of the afternoon, and the glances of Biddon toward the west showed that he expected the appearance of danger every moment, At inter- vals he mounted the rocky wall of their fortre and shading his eyes with his hand, looked long an searchingly in the distance. Some twenty minutes sed thus, when, while standing upon the wall, he urned toward Irene: “See yer, my little duck, them peepers of yourn can take in a bigger stretch of prairie than Bil Bid- don’s; so _ jist come this way and take a squint off 5 ag r’s ‘sign,’ ef I ain't most powerful mis- He stooped and lifted Irene in his brawny arms as if she had been an infant, He then seated her upon his shoulder, with about as much effort as he would have raised his rifle there, and said: ** Now take a squint, sich as you kin,"’ *Tsn’t she lovely?” remarked Nat, in an under- tone, “Just view that white face, them black eyes, gazing way off yonder, them magnificent plum and her black hair rising and falling in this soft wind —jest see her sitting there, Nat Todd, I say, like a heavenly bird that has perched on the old trapper’s shoulder. Is it not worth a journey to Oregon to rescue such a being as that?” Let me down,” she said to Biddon. See nothin’? “They are coming!’’ she replied. see them.” o Y-a-s, s-i-r!’’ slowly repeated Biddon, as he looked ain, ‘‘Them’s them, sure, and they’re ridin’ as though they didn’t know they war hastenin’ to de- struction. See yer,’’ he added, removing his gaze to his two companions, “ it’s time we understood how things is going to be managed, so I'll make my speech, You see the upper part of that rock stickin’ out thar, my little duck? al, as you happens to have no shooter about you, and will be in the way, you may crawl in under thar, and keep snug and clus. None of thar arrers or bullets will be apt to touch your purty noddle,”’ Irene hesitated a moment before complying; but, as it was a A the best course she could adopt, she obeyed. at and Biddon had pu ely ar- ranged a corner of their fortress so as to shelter her, and it answered its end admirably. They added, as an extra caution, that she should not look out or ex- herself until told to, and of course to all this she promised a willing obedience, “ Now,” added the meeper, in a husky voice, the nearest approach he could make to a whisper, “we must ‘understand the case,’ as they say down in the settlements. Ef there’s to be any hailin’ or talkin’, Tll do it. Ef they make a dash for us, we'll blaze away together and draw knives and at them. But Ake must never bark with your shooter at the same ime I does, or they’l) ride in afore we ken load. I'll pick out each mark for pp and you mustn't shoot any pipe-stems or scorch my ear ag’in.” “How do you knowl shot my gun that time?” asked Nat. Biddon gave his usual quiet simile, and replied: “T didn’t know it then, Todd, or I'm afeard I'd ‘ve scorched you. But after I got up among them Hud- son-Bay fellers, I got to thinkin’ "bout it, and won- dered how I was such a fool as to think any of them ts done it. Howsumever, that aint hyer nor there; we're in fur a knock-down fight this time. As I ane, yen must never fire till I tell yous don’t show “Look, you can your head, and keep your Ts . Them red- skins are comin’ one Baste we "he added, in w matter-of-fact tone. That they were comin, evident. They were 0 were riding promiscuous ing to get along pretty well was self F thelr prinetpal object Be eir prine object ay possible, ¢ head as: fast plumes “we
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—. ik tar tumbled headlong from his animal. t “Vive , ok re ane RR TTR <6 GE SEES STO IT DS RANSE $e WANTS tae could be seen vising and falling, and their gaudy dress flaunting in the wind. Nat and Biddon were erouched in under their breastwork, their rifle-muz- zles just protruding from the loop-holes, and their i Aa watching every motion over the gleaming bar- rels, Onward galloped the Indians, without abating their speed in the least until within a furlong, when they suddenly reined up at sight of the curious looking fortress before them. feir looks and ges- tures showed their suspicions to be aroused concern- ing it. Their hands were frequently extended toward it, and their guttural words could now and then be heard. As they stood thus, Biddon carefully noted the appearance of each, There were seven well mounted, two of whom were furnished with rifles, which weapons they rendered as conspicuous as possible. The Indian who seemed to take the lead was furnished with a flowing mantle which streamed over his horse as he careered over the rairie, Each was daubed in war-paint; and, take Preth all in all, they were a savage, villainous-look- ing set, whose malignity shone in their basilisk eyes, They surveyed the rocks a few moments and then scattered in different directions over the prairie, carefully shunning to approach any closer. “Slip to t’other side,” whispered Biddon, “ and keep your shooter ready, but don’t pull the trig- ger till I tell you.” - The Indians now commenced circling around the little fort, separating and wheeling till they had completely surrounded it. uid wow many do you make?” asked the trapper. “T haven’t counted them,” replied Nat, *‘but I should suppose there are about seventy-five.” “Wagh! jist seven; ef we hadn’t the gal with us, I wouldn't like better fun than wipin’ them out, Keep docile, and T'll draw bead on ’em soon.”’ Although the fugitives had carefully concealed themselves, the Indians were not to be deceived. Their ese nh ts and turnings were like the gyre: tions of birds in the air, and finally a couple of ar- rows were sent into the fort; but it brought no re- sponse from those within. A couple of savages ed at full gallop, as if to ride over the breast- work, but were careful to hold up before they reached it. Suddenly they came together in a knot on the east- ern side, and, halting a moment, dashed away with a loud yell. I ‘ **Good!” exclaimed Nat, “they think we ain't here, and have gone on. We will get away yet.” “You're green yet, Todd, Don’t you understand thar deviltry? They've purtended that, jist to draw us out. It riles me considerable, I allow, fur ’em to take Bill Biddon to be sich a fool. I'll dro one of *em for that insult ef they don’t do nothin’ else, All at once their enemies wheeled, and, giving an- other yell, came at full gallo toward the fugitives. ‘“« Another trick,”’ admonished the trapper. “ Keep your fire; they’ll stop in a minute.” So it proved—the Indians reining up while still at a good Ristabce: and repeating their maneuvers as before. This was continned for nearly an hour, when, losing patience, the war was commenced by the red-skins. Coming up within several hundred yards, they again separated and commenced riding backward and forward at different points, display- ing, while they did so, some of the finest horseman- ship in the world, ey leaned over upon the side of their animals opposite the whites in such a man- ner that nothing but the pont of their feet was visi- ble over the horse’s back, and in this position dis- cha ged their arrows and the two rifles, either under the animal’s neck or belly.. As. the latter turned in their circuit, their skillful riders dropped to the other side as quick as thought. a3 “Pig an old game, but a dangerous one,’ remark- ed the trapper. “Tye seen the Comanches of the south use the same trick, and say, what they will, it’s a nasty one, Thar’s so many of ’em at it, we must ‘em. Yas, sir,’ sy ere storm of arrows rained in upon the whi and their situation, at most, was a pcrilous ene. It was by no means impossible that they shouts be yeah ee rotected as well as they were. * ” call Biadon, in a whisper. “Well, what do you wish?” y , “Nig an old game, as I said afore, they’re tryin’, ‘and must be stopped. I war in sich a scrape at this when I was summat younger nor now. "Iwas down in what they call Injin Territory. Me and a chap got cooped up, with the heathen firin’ thar pizened arrers at us, and never givin’ us a chance to see ‘em, loppin’ over thar losses like that. Howsumever, we come up to em. Thar’s two or three spots in a hoss ‘whar this rifle of mine will send a bullet through slick and clean, and give the imp his last sickness on tother side. "Tain’t jn one as can do it, cause they’re purty sure to strike a bone. But hyer 7 ” followed the motions of one of the ieee oe & moment and then fired. The frenzied beast with a wild snort, bounded high in the air, Yalline backward and crushing his mortally- wounded as eater Taree the spot;”’ Biddon remarked, with an exultant sound like the click of his un in his throat. “I haven't forgot the spot, and Pil try anes i tes Be reloaded in an incredibly short space of time and pointed through the same loop- hole, But this unexpected demonstration made the Indians more cautious. They immediately retreat- -ed, leaving théir fallen comrade and horse doubled Ser cn kes te toed ag ' ra. (asndotious « aneenc Pitis back, and the lat- left,” he laughed, as he proceeded to load ‘“Tt’s getting along toward night, Biddon; what will you do then?” “Wait till sundown comes,” The Indians, after consulting a few minutes, rode away a half-mile, when they disappeared in the river-bottom. ‘* What does that mean?’ asked Nat. “They're goin’ to lay off till dark and fix on some devilish trick, You can talk awhile to the gal, for thar’s no fear of thar showin’ themselves in reach of this shooter for a while. Hold on now, Biddon, you dog,”’ muttered the trapper to himself. “ Thar's a splendid ha’r-raise for yer.” Dropping his gun and drawing his knife, he leaped over the breast-work, and ran out upon the prairie to thospot where the first savage had fallen. Here he stooped and scalped the dead savage, and while thus engaged, the report of a rifle was heard in the river-bottom, The Indians witnessed this deed, which they could not prevent, and fired at him. The ex- ulting trapper,gave a defiant yell, and, holding the gory x aloft, made his way back to shelter on a slow walk. “Ef they hadn’t toted off t’other varmint I’d have his top-knot too,’’ he remarked, as he stepped into the fort again. Night was slowly settling over the prairie, and a few clouds were rolling up from the west. There was to be a faint moon, which was already in the sky. x T hope ’twill be as dark as a wolf’s mouth,”’ said Biddon; “ef it is, we'll outwit the heathen sure, Yas, sir,”’ “Tf those clouds out yonder sail across the moon’s face, you'll have your wish, Biddon, I think.” “Tow does the little gal stand it?” he asked, look- ing down at Irene, who had withdrawn from her con- cealment, and was seated near him, “Tam not much frightened, but I do dread falli into their hands again, I am sure they would ki me if I did.” “Don’t be scar’t—don’t be sear’t, my little one. they’ll have to trample over Bill Biddon, and, I reckon, another chap, afore they reach your purty little pictur’.”’ 4 e truest words you ever said,’’ responded Nat, warmly, Three hours passed without any incident occurring worthy of being mentioned. By this time it was well into the night. The clouds ken of were slowly floating before the moon, rendering the dark- ness exceedingly variable—sometimes so great as revent our friends from 4, Hm bet) each other’s orms; at other times a partial view of the prairie, for twenty or thirty Piste! was obtained, Biddon had occupied himself in passing stealthily around the interior of the fort, to prevent the insidious ap- proach of his enemies, A detached conversation was continued for a time in undertones, but the ny 4 Bd hensions of each finall ie all silent, Before night set in, Biddon proposed making no attempt to escape until the second mien but, from some cause, chang- ed his mind, He affirmed that they must get off that night, or their case would be beyond hope. nee or twice, when the light favored, a dusk horseman was seen carefully reconnoitering their sition; and, by placing the ear to the ground, the footfalls of their animals could be heard. They were evidently circling around the fugitives, to prevent their making off in the darkness. This was con- tinued so steadily and so long, as to satisfy the trap- per that their enemies intended to keep them be- sie until nature would compel them to give in; and as they would naturally expect the whites to re- main in concealment as long Foe} Seyges 5 their watch would be closer each succ ng night. This was why Biddon came to the determination to make the attempt upon the present night, Nat, havi + rcccived permission to fire at any thing that offered, disch his n at a dusk object which f:tted to view in the distance; but wit what effe.u ho could not teli,r+ no yell or tramp of feet succeeded i+, . half" sur after, the moon shone through a rii 1 the « vuds, and revealed to the astonished gaze .. our frionds a solitary horse, 1.cing them, »*t more thon fifty yards distant. He stood liko a. ue, and was without a rider. When the moonlight was obscured again, his outline could be distinguished, standine as motionk.s as before. B' |don was unable to fy y comprehend the mean-* ing of this singular apparition, but it only served to render him doubly cautious. While still wanderta he felt a touch upon his arm, and, looking around, distinguished the pale, terror-stricken face of Irene looking up in his own. “There is some one “just outside the fort!” she whispered. ‘I heard him move.” The trapper nodded, and motioned her to regain her concealment. On his hands and knees he round the area of the fort, itenteg at every inch, until his wonderful skill enabled him to locate his enemy. A savage, he was satisfied, was crouching under cover of one of the bowlders on the outside, Waving his hand for the amazed Nat to maintain a perfect silence, he laid his rifle. softly upon the ound, drew his knife, and gathered his strength Fore entice: His leap was. similar to that which a deer makes to passa high fence—a sort of sidelong bound, with an agility that carried him over like a cat. is calculations were incredibly exact, for he literally came down on the shoulders of the unsus- teh than ead tas iceman bounded beak aueie ihe and a and the r boun ck a n the fort with another ohnett . ly scalp at his girdle. ‘**He’s done for,” he chuckled, Popa that his horse still standing yonder?” asked at. Biddon looked toward the point indicated, and saw | - aD that the animal remained in the same motionless attitude, He paused an instant, then stepped lightly on the prairie again, and ran rapidly arma the horse. ne animal probably mistook him for his Indian master, for he made no resistance or motion to flee. Biddon seized his bridle and led him forward to the fort. “Todd!” he hurriedly -called, quick!” ‘What's wanting?” asked that person, bounding beside him, “The time to travel ar’ come. That Injin I jist now rubbed out is the one with that big blanket fly- in’ over his shoulder; this ar’ his horse, Git on him throw his blanket over yer neck, take the gal behind yer, and cover her up with it, and put. 1ey ll take yer fur that chap stiffened out thar, and when you tcl’ar of ‘em go down to the bottom whar I left ‘other hosses; you'll then have one apiece, and put like blazes; and you'll give ’em the slip.” “And you?” “Never mind me; I'll foller you soon. Irene, this way, quick!” : The maiden was by his side in an instant. She had heard his plan and understood it. Nat was given to rebel, at first, at leaving his companion in the rear, but the latter was imperative, and threatened to shoot him if he hesitated. “Hug him close,” he continued to Irene, “and let that blanket swing over yer; and, Todd, make a few circles round. like, so as to blind thar eyes, and when yer git cl’ar of their sight, do what you war told to,”” A moment after Nat Todd was cantering over the serves on thé dead Indian's horse, with Irene cling- ng to him. He distinguishcd several horsemen, rid. ing on a walk, after getting out of sight of the fort, and, to deceive them, followed Biddon’s advice—imi- tating their movements, and gradually edging away from them, until, seeing the coast clear, he made a straight line to the river bottom, The whinny of Trene's horse, as they entered, guided their wearer to the two animals left there by the trapper. Irene mounted her own animal, leaving the other for Bide don, and she and Nat once more struck to the east- ward on a rapid gallop, The ety er listened to the receding steps of horse which bore the two away from the fort, an did not change his position until they were be- yond hearing and, as he well judged, had succeeded perfectly wi h the’ stratagem. “Twas a good trick,” he muttered; “but ef i hadn’t been for the gal, Bill Biddon wouldn’t have allowed ’em to do it. It would have lost too fine a chance fora ha’r-raise, B’ars and beavers, it would!” He commenced debating his own ehances of es- cape. Now that the others were safe, his greatest, care was gone; but it would not have been charac- teristic of the man had he neglected hisown. A few minutes’ aes decided his course, The dead Indian was lifted in his arms and carried to the spot where his horse was first seen. Here he was_ stretched flat upon his back, and his limba Saye net mone deeming 4 ppl i, far enough to a discovery, gave a loud whoop and retreated within the fort. a“ r In a few moments two savages rode cautiously to ward the spot from which the sound emanated, tually approached. the dead body a moment, but “step out yer approached. A careful examination followed revealing the alarming fact that their comrade had not fallen by a bullet, but by the knife of their ene- my. To have done this of course the struggle must have occurred at this spot upon the prairie, and the white man must have fled after committing the deed, They raised no yell, but rode in a body to the fort, and, aes several felnts, entered it, The whites were gone Now ascended a yell, such as a score of demons might be supposed to give, and the baffled savages allo away toward the river bottom. When fair- iy out of sight one of the bowlders on the outside of ee breastwork pitched forward, and the form of ill Biddon rose to view. ‘Reds is reds, and fools is fools, and ef ever they war takin in bootiful, that ar’ time is jist about now. So Bill Biddon thinks. Wagh!” Dropping his head, he ran rapidly in the direction of the river bottom, intending to find his horse and follow our hero and heroine as he had promised. This required a longer time than he expected; but he secured him at last, and, as he eme from the bottom he struck into a full run, and set up a shout of exultation, Hardly had the echoes died away, when four mounted Indians burst after him, dis- charging two rifles at the same time. Biddon an- swered the shot, and its effect was told by a fren- zied yell and a fall of one of the horsemen. “Come on, all of you!” he shouted; “ef you have shot Bill Biddon he can draw bead on you vit" In less time than it takes us to write it, his rifle was reloaded, but before he could fire, his enemi were invisible. Reduced to three, and convin that capture was impossible, they had withdrawn and given up the pursuit, Away flew the trapper like a meteor bursti across the prairie, e knew that he was not fol- wae mad t ic not nate en oad oor ithe! his ‘I must co ‘em! he mw pu horse to the top of his speed. ‘* You must travel, hoss, ef it kills you.” Not a jot of the terrific rate at which he was was abated. Mile after mile flew under his fee iS hair streamed in the night wind—his face wore a strange, unnatural look. His lips were tightly com P , and at intervals he muttered brokenly te imself, or shouted h to his horse, — ‘ Mma ht of day appeared in the east. The tray 00 up. + “T must be purty nearup to’em. They can't have rode as fast as me.’
Page 16
16 Ss SS te eee The sides of the horse were steamy and frothy, his nostrils dilated, and he breathed short and quick. As the prairie was illuminated by the sun’s rays, Biddon looked carefully ahead. “‘They ought to be in sight; I’ve rode a long ways. Pars and beavers! yender they ar’!”’ On a distant swell of the prairie he saw his two friends. He swung his hat over his head and shout- ed. Ina moment a faint halloo was returned. He was seen, and they were vaiting for him. Onward thundered @®e trapper, as if riding for ite. A half-hour, and nis panting horse was beside at’s. ‘* Yer safe,”’ he remarked, with a deep sigh. “I dropped another, and they give up the chase. You can take yer time now; none of ’em will foller you more.,”’ * But, Biddon, why have you ridden so fast? Your horse seems jaded to death. The Oregon trail is but a few miles away, and you needn’t have hurried. We were waiting for you. What makes you look so strange? You are deadly pale. I see blood on your breast! My God! Have you been shot?” “Todd, Bill Biddon has got his last sickness at last!’’ replied the i gl rid in a voice whose hollow depth was awful. ‘‘I wiped oneof’em out, and they blazed away with both thar shooters—one of the bul- lets went clean through me!” Nat and Irene were horrified, and almost beside themselves. “Ts it a mortal wound? Can you bear up till we find assistance? Oh, Biddon, you are not going to die now?” ““No—no—let me dress your wound,’’plead Irene, dismounting and approaching him. The trapper mo- tioned them back, and alighted himself. “T’ve got to go under in less nor an hour,” he said, in the same hollow tone, as Nat assisted him ta aseat. ‘I didn’t want to do it alone, that’s why I rode so hard to come up with you. aboutit,”’ added Biddon, languidly opening his eyes, as he heard the suppressed sobs of both his friends, “Oh, Biddon! this is terrible. Ill never forgive myself for OTe you alone to carry on the battle,” wailed Nat, kneeling beside him. A shade of vexation crossed the traprer's face: his brows compressed slightly as he replied: “Tt saved you and the gal, and let’s hear no more about it. It won't do no good,”’ he added, as he felt them examining his wound. “It’s past Woctorin’.” Irene had unslung the small canteen which he wore about his neck, and was bathing and dressing the wound to the best of her ability. A glance showed her and Nat that the man’s words were true. A bul- let had passed through his body in the neighborhood of the lungs, and life was fast ebbing out. His indom- itable determination had sustained him up to this int. He knew no earthly power could ward off is dissolution, and his o: wish was to die in the resence of the two whose lives he had saved. Now hat he had reached them, his will are way and he sunk with fearful rapidity. Nat and Irene saw that the most they could do was to soothe the dying man’s moments, and no time was lost in lamentations, His hunting-shirt was opened, so as to allow the air to reach him, and the flow of blood partially ec His head was pillowed in the lap of Irene, who had removed his cap and brushed back the shaggy locks from his brow.’ In this position he lay Cecathing heavily, and occasionally gasping, sometimes open- ing the eyes whose electric glitter was now dead- ened, and looking fram Nat’s face to that of Irene, where it seemed to love to linger. Once or twice it was noticed that his lips appeared to move, and it was with gratified astonishment that Nat heard the words of prayer passing his lips. “Todd,” at length he spoke, as if waking from a dream, “ you and I’ve hunted together a long time, but weve got to part, I’ve s’pected this all through the winter, and am not sorry for myself. You've fot the gal at last, and ar’ fur enough to git her rough to the States. Thar’s a belt ’round my body, jist below the hurt. Will you take it off?” Nat did as requested, and found he held in his hand a broad, thick, and exceedingly heavy belt. “That's full of gold,” he said, speaking at inter- vals. “I’ve been gatherin’ it up for thirty years. Some of it came from the Hudson Bay Company, though it’s little they give in that way besides G) trinkets. Thar’s a good lot thar; take it, use it, It never on do me good, and I've no one else to give it to. Will you promise?” Nat looked at Irene, and the two answered that they would, He then continued: “Bury me in my clothes, my shooter, knives, and bad a Ang with me.”’ ** Shall it be done here?’’ asked Nat. ‘Yas; you'll have some trouble to dig the but it needn't be deep, and a few stones roll it will keep the wolves and varmint away.” He ceased speaking for a while. During the disar- rangement of his dress, Nat noticed a ribbon around his neck, concealed beneath his hunting-shirt. He examined it, not through any vulgar curiosity, and found it contained a small locket, in which was an exquisite painting of a young and beautiful girl. He was on the point of asking the trapper’'s will respect- ing this, when the latter spoke: ‘Thar’s @ pictur’ you'll see ’round my neck—bury it with me. She was buried long years ago. It was her that made a trapper of Bill Biddon; but the sto ean’t be told now. meant to. have told you, Todd, but the time has passed.” Another lapse of silence passed, during which the trapper’s dissolution became more and more appar- ent. His face was of unearthly whiseness, the film of death was already visible over his half-closed His lips continued moving, and after one or attempts, he spoke aloud: * Todd, you have talked to me "bout what you call- Via over Don’t feel bad | $$ ie ed religion, and Iremember how a mother used to pray fur me when I was young. Bill Biddon has led a quar life. He has taken many a scalp, and wiped out many a red-skin, and whether that Being will take him afterall thisI cannottell. But I’ve thought about Him a good deal, and have tried to pray to him fur a good while to come. Would you ey hee Nat uttered a short, earnest prayer for the dying man, and he seemed much comforted. “T feel better,’ he added, after he had finished. “T think, Todd, and Irene, I'll see you ag’in, and Relmond, and the little angel of his wifé., on’t for- get. to tell them about old Bill Biddon, and—” The trapper paused as a cloud swept over his fea- tures. His emotions were so singular that Nat, fear- ful the last moment had come, spoke: ‘‘ What is the matter, Biddon?” “ The Injuns ar’ coma /” he replied, in his husky whisper. “No—no, you are mistaken; none but your friends are around you,” said Nat, fearing his mind was wan- dering. The trapper knit his brows, as if with pain, and added: ‘*No, I don’t mean you. T hear the red-skins, 1 say. animals.”’ Nat, thinking perhaps there might be truth in what was said, sprung to his feet and swept the horizon. The view oa the east was obstructed by a range of hills, but there were no signs of any human beings besides themselves, He repeated this to Biddon. ** Thear the tramp of hosses /”’ reiterated the latter, ‘“*Tt’s hard to let my top-knot fall into thar hands af- ter gettin’ this far. Todd, will you do the last favor Bill Biddon will ever ask you?” “* Yes—yes—anything you wish.” ‘“T would die hard, as I said, ef I thought they war to get my ha’r. Jist take my knife then, Todd, and i it yerself, and the imps will be cheated, after all!’"* ‘““Oh, God! den’t ask me that, Biddon,” groaned Nat. “Tl fight over you as long as I can stand, but no power on earth could induce me to harm a hair of your head.” “T spose it isn’t your edication, Todd; but I don’t I know what I am about. I hear the tramp of thar want my top-+cnot to hang in an Injin’s lodge. Can’t rou--"’ ‘Surely, surely, Biddon, you’re mistaken. There are no savages near us.”’ Irene touched Nat’s arm and pointed toward the river-bottom. Some eight or ten horsemen had just emerged from below them and were SpE aning. 4 cs are not Indians—they are not Indians, Bid- don, hey are friends—white people—whose horses you heard, They are here—cheer up!” ‘*T suppose so; I knew ‘twas the tramp of animals Iheard. Git up.. Irene, pray for me, like an angel as you ar’,”’ at arose to catch the attention of the horsemen, while Irene complied with the holy request of the trapper. When our hero looked toward his com- nion again, he saw that Bill Biddon, the hunter and rapper, was dead! The horsemen were a party of hunters, who had diverged from the Oregon trail to continue their operations in this direction. Two of them had been acquainted with the is several years before, and mourned his death with sincere sorrow. Several hours were spent in siggin eh tend broad and deep, in which to place his y. Their knives were the only instruments employed, and when the body of Biddon was carefully lowered into the earth, it was high noon. He was buried in his clothes, his faithful rifle beside him, and the locket, which contained the picture at ican of some love that had exercised a potent nfluence over his life, still remained around his neck, The grave was wet by the tears of Nat and Iren who mourned him as a at, but true-hearted an brave man, whose loss could never be replaced. No slab or stone marks the lonely spot in the Far West, where all that is mortal remains of the tra . It is on the bank of the Malheur river, a few miles west of the Oregon trail; but the feet of wild animals and the lapse of time have so obliterated all traces of it, that bang A even the eye of affection would fail to recognize it. A few more words and the tale is finished. Mat and Irene accompanied the hunters down to Fort Boise, where they found another party upon the ooint of starting to California. As the present of iddon furnished Todd with an ample supply of money, he concluded to take the steamer from San Francisco instead of risking another tedious and rilous journey across the plains. This course he ollowed out. In this city, he encountered the trav- eler with whom he h passed several days at Brown's Hole. It was he who had written the note which occa- sioned so much wonderment, His information was derived from a hunter; and, believing it to be relia- ble, he withheld his name, fearing that Nat might a crea it to be only a piece of pleasantry, as he : quite a reputation for his jokes on his compan- ons, The particulars of the homeward voyage need not be i The storms and sunshine—the a and calms—the glorious moonlight nights and the delightful hours spent in communion with each oth- er—the gradual growth of the tender passion—the all-important question and answer—the thousands * This request of the dying trapper may seem ia- credible; but there are weil-authentica' instances in the history of our frontier in which a ranger or scout has sealped his comrade, at the latter's prayer, to save the disgrace of his enemies it, eir romantic fear, in this respect, seems to that of the Indian himself. _-- Half-Dime Library. of, air-castles that arose in the enchanted future—e*t these, and many more, the reader can imagine. Todd, when he arrived in New York, telegraphee to Relmond, who, accompanied by his wife, immedi- ately visited him. For the first time since childhood. the long-lost, the long-separated sisters and orphans met. But time had only sanctified their love; and the friendship between Imond and Todd remains uninterrupted to this day. Nat, in the magnanimity of his heart, forgave his old flame, Sarah Almina, now Mrs. Han and she and her husband both hel to celebrate the wed- ding. At the present writing, Nat resides in Maine, where he and his strangely-found wife are bounte- ously supplied with all that goes to make life serene- ly happy in this world, and that fits them for the en- joyment of the world to come, THE END, Beadle’s Half-Dime Library. BUFFALO BILL NOVELS, BY COL. PRENTISS INGRAHAM. 1052 Raffalo Billin Disguise. 1046 Goid Plume, the Boy Bandit, or, Buffalo Bill, the Pony Express Rider, 1042 1 ittle Grit, the Pony Express Rider. 1040 Kuffalo K11Vs Pony Patrol. 1018 Butfalo BILD« Ts xas Team. 1007 Ruatffalo Bill’s Sure-Shots, 1006 Buffalo Kill’s Deeoy Boys. 995 Buffalo BIIDs Drop; or, Dead-Shot Ned , the Kaneas Kia 988 Buffalo Bill's Lasso Throwers. 981 Buffalo Bill's Fighting Five. 975 Buffalo BUls Rifle Shots. d 968 Buffalo Bills Kush Ride; or, Sure-Shot, the High-Flyer. 964 Buffalo Bill's Decoy 3 or, The Arizona Crack Shot, 955 Buffalo Billa Maveppa-Chase, | x J 948 Buffalo Bills Snap-Shot ¢ or, Wild Kid’s Texan Tally 942 Buffalo Bills Tough Tussle, 986 Buffalo Bil’s Boy Maxcot; or, Joe Jarvis’ Hold-up, 929 Buffalo Bill's Crack-shot Pard, 650 Buffalo BIUDs Boy Pard; or, Butterfly Billy. 216 Bison BItl, the Prince of the Reins, 222 Bison BIll’s Clue; or. Grit, the Bravo Sport, BY BUFFALO BILL, 55 Deadly-Eye. the Unknown Scout; or, The Banded Brotherhood 68 Border Robin Hood; or, The Prairie Rover, 158 Faney Frank of Colorado; or, The Trapper’s Trust, 1029 ‘Lhe Phantam Spy. 1088 Kansans King; or, The Red Right Hand. BY CAPT, ALFRED B, TAYLOR, U. 8. A. 191 Buffalo RK Uy, the Boy Bullwhacker. 194 Ruffalo Hill's Bett or, The Gambler Guide. BY COL. PRENTISS INGRAHAM, 1087 The Artist Detective. 1084 The Gold Witch’s Shadower. bat are Teens Messiers n ‘ bc 1027 e Cowboy Raiders in Cu 1025 The Flying ) ankee or, The Ucean Outcast, igre fas cge ie, ont e Boy Bugler in Cuba, 982 New Yor Nat's Drop’ or, Ex-Ferret Sykes’ Bold Game 926 New York Nat and the Traitor Ferret, 920 New York Nat Trapped. 914 New York Nat's ‘Ihree of a Kind, 908 New York Nat's Double. York Nat’ In Colorado. 902 New Yor 896 New York Nat in Gold Nugget Camp. 889 New York Nuat’s Deadly Deal. S88 New York Nat’s Crook-Chase, ST7 New York Nat’s Trump Card. 87L New York Nat and the Grave Ghouls, 865 New York Nat’ Masked Mascot. Nat, the Gamin Detective. Kidnapper Knock-Out. Ten Strike. Flush Hand, 859 New York 858 Dick Doom’s So Dick Doom's o nom’s 72 Dilek Doom’s Death-Grtp; or, The Detective by Destiny. $82 Dick Doom’s Destinys or, The River Biackleg’s Terror. 784 Dick Doom; or. * he Sharps and Sharks o} New York, pa | Diek ee p Reatent or, A Man of Many Maske, 798 Dick Doom In cane, dick D in the Wild West. sos Dick Deom’s Clean Sweep} or, Five Links a e Clue, 808 Dick Doom’s Death Clue. N18 Dick Doom’s Diamond Deal. 419 Dick Doom’sa Girl Mascot. oe tek Booms Phadaw sunt 88 e oom’a x . Charlies or, The Kentucky Tenderfoot’s First Trait. ene ee ie Charles Vreatinys or, The Renegade’s Captive. H+ Dashing Charlie’s Pawnee Pard, 766 Dashing Charlie, the Rescuer, er Ruck Tayler? ip fede d in Captive. 78 ue aylor, the I : r ra Boyas 01, The Red Riders of the Rlo Granda, SAS Buck Taylove a Tiny Ochers. NEW ISSUES. ecoyed. By Robert R. Inman. Boy ing the Boy Rifleman, By Ol Coomes, 1066 Co boy Chris, the Des-rt Centaur, Ry Ww. W. Wilder. 1067 Vou Bet Bob's Jangle. By Ariana : 1088 The Crulse of the Sean Wo f. By Col. Ingraham. 1069 On Land and Lage Pd Pe ete By Eilts o uu ‘ 1070 Nat Todd; or, The Fa ere Oepares rairles, By Oll Coomes, 1064 Dandy 1065 Sure 1071 Dandy Dick’s Decoy, B 107% Keen knife, Prince of the JUST ISSUED, Red Raven’a Redskin Ruse. B Cowboy Chris In Cinnabar. Gold Uific, the Sharpshooter. By By'T. Texas Jack, ‘o]. Prentiss Ingraham. By Ol] Coomes By Bracebridge Hemyng. By Wm G Patten, Co) P, Ingraham m. W. Wilder. td. L, Wheeler, Flanagan The A Libra’ eonts ae. ae by fick | receipt o1 alx cents BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, 92 William Street, New York,