Beadle's Half Dime Library (no. 1151) (1904 07)
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Vat es i * i vm mo oe | y _ and it really seemed y Copyrieut, 1877, Bx Beapte & ADAMS. Hl : { hi Published Every 0. Month. ee Bill Biddon, Trapper; LIFE IN THE NORTH-WEST, BY EDWARD 5S. ELLIS. CHAPTER L OUT LATE AT NIGHT. “How is it, Nat? Any light yet?’ “Not the least sign of one, and it’s my opinion it will be a long time Before we see another.” : “What! you haven't given up all hopes of reaching thecamp? I don’t relish the idea of camping out to- night?” “Nor I; but I’mthinking that will come sooner or later.” ; ‘“ Well, there are several hours yet, in which we must plod onward,’ I added, trudging wearily behind my companion, Before going further, I may as well in- troduce my friend and myself. My com- anion answered to the name of Nathan ‘odd, and was a native of Maine. He was a tall, lank individual, with attenu- ated limbs and an awkward appearance nerally. He was meager but muscu- far. and when roused to the heat of pas- sion, as quick and powerful as the - ther. s gait was ungainly, and he seemingly was capable of anything but Speed; Sat on one or two occasions since leaving the States, he had shown a fleet- ness of foot truly wonderful, He was a good, open-hearted fellow, and one who, when driven to the wall; would be a dan- gerous enemy, Once or twice, how- even, he had shown the white feather, and his natural timidity would often evince itself. As a~conrequence, Nat was not, perhaps, the safest companion in the hour of danger; but, for that, there was no one in our party whose agate I would have preferred upon e night in which I introduce him to notice. There was no imminent peril threatening, and Nat was a capital com- econ, who could while away the hours, f he chose, with his inexhaustible store of anecdote and humor.\ I knew he en- tertained a warm affection for me, and would brave almost, any danger rather than be su of his only deficiency. & single intimation would decide his soursé in a moment, Nat wore a fen gg dress—half savage end half ci . The pants and shoes twere such as are fashionable in the en- htened world: but a capacious hunt- tag-shirt imcased body, secured around the waist by a heavy and much the same as are worn by the hunt- ers and natives of the far West at the nt day. The most striking part of dress, however, was the hat. This he had with him band, had acquired the shape of a cone. it rested on his head, the (3) 7 -—-——-- MM. J. IVERS & CO., Publ (JAMES SULLIVAN, Proprirror), 379 Pearl Street, New York. ever a contraction of the eyebrows—a sort of un- spoken question—so often seen in persons from “down east,”’ which indicates a prying, curious dis- | position. As for myself, my name is William Relmond, and I hail from one of the Middle States. ‘Shortl the announcement of the discovery of gold th ishers, after | Cali- | fornia, I was seized with the lunacy that was carry- | ing its thousands to the Pacific coast. Iwas well situated in life at home, but that was not considered. I must fish up a fabulous fortune also, At the age of twenty, then, without a settled purpose in life, I determined to make a journey to the El Dorado of | the New World. I was not influenced solely by the love of gain, but the love of adventure urged me ir- resistibly on. I had heard wonderful stories of the boundless prairies, of their wandering hordes of | Indians, their millions of buffaloes and horses, and | the vast, billowy ocean of verdure and sunshine, and | the Far West seemed the paradise of the world to me, Provided with an ample outfit I proceeded by the usual route to Independence, Missouri, where I made | yA mpc, < x NOAA As 4 i SS SN 50c. a year. inquiries of the trains constantly leaving that poiné for Oregon and California. +f Bo frm Bre! upon Nat Todd, . present companion. He had just ar rived from his distant home, where he had lefta widowed mother and a disconsolate sweetheart. But he said he was going to return, in just two years from the day he left, with a “rousing heap” of money, and intended to buy “Squire Hunt's farm," take Alminy down there, and live the rest of his life His frankness and humor impressed me favorably ; and after a short conversation, we grasped han and swore to. remain by each other till our adven- org were terminated by death or.a happy denoue- ment. We engaged places in a train which left the next day. This company numbered nigh two hundred persons, and was composed of all kinds of charac- ters, except females. There were French voyageurs, Irishmen, and an agent of one of the western fur companies. The majority of the rest were from the plow or workshop. They had secured the services of an experienced guide, and were well equipped for the journey before them, The overland route, at this time, was 80 alive with passing emigrants, that few depredations were committed by the Indians. The savages sometimes hung around companies, but as there were always other whites in sight, thay rarely ventured upon any greater crime than pilfering, othing worthy of note occurred upon the journey for a length of time. We experienced the usual mis- haps and trials of emigrants, but noth- ing more startling. We sometimes lost a part of our baggage and provisions in crossing the rivers, and were greatly discomforted by the terrific storms which often raged in those regions, Then, again, we traveled mile after mile, and hour after hour, upon the dry, mo- notonous, glistening, rolling prairie, so wearied: and tired of the scene that’ we hardly exchanged a syHable for hours at a Btretch, At last, the plains of Kansas were reached. On the day in which I intro duce my friend and myself to notice, we had descried a solitary antelope at @ great distance upon the prairie, and set out to bring itdown. We left our horses behind, hoping to reach the animal b stratagem, I approached near enou to wound it, when it made off with speed of the wind. Expecting to see it give out each moment, we followed mile after mile, until gathering darkness warned us that night was at hand, when we halted in alarm. The Caravan was nowhere in sight, and, we doubted not, had disappeared hours before. We left the train about noon, and had been warned that they would not halt or wait for us, and should we lose them they would take no pains to hunt.us up. But we heeded not this, as we expected te keep them constantly in view, and haye the antelope cooked for our supper. I. have shown how widely we w mistaken. We were compelled to see icbagiets us any horn ot ppemtion It ail ng us any hope of spen t our friends; and at a late hour we were oe tice yet, Nati » Tesod: for the “No et, Nat? ‘or twentieth tiash, “Well, I should think you had asked qn about often enough, to be suited with my answer.” ask it a dozen times just answer it once for all, / know but what you are Wat.. We must have come s tance, utterly unconsci:
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Beadle’s” Half-Dime access to hope to reach the campagain before morn- “Heat's my opinion, exactly. That camp, I opine, fea £3! dozen miles off yet. agg we may have a chance of reaching it still before morning, as this bright moon favors us.”’ The moon, full and clear, bad arisen an hour be- fore, and its light illuminated the prairie for a great distan Far away, on every hand, we could dis- sern theblue outline of the horizon, while the prairie seemed to roll up against it like the dark boundaries ' a mighty ocean. Every thing was as silent and ionless as chough we were treading a region of ath, ‘J wonder whether those fellows will go a foot out of the way to piek us up?’ muttered Nat, half to himself. **I don’t believe they will. They told us they wouldn’t, and they value their time too highly to waste it for a couple who are of no aecount to them, ety since we ean fall in with other trains.”’ reckon they're of some account to us, res have got our horses and our traveling appara- us,”’ “That is true, Nat. In fact, since we have been walking here, I have persuaded myself that those fellows would, just as likely as not, turn out of the way to get rid of us.” “Somehow or other, I’ve thought just the same for @ week.” “Then, if we value our property, we mustn’t let them slip.”’ “No; I'll be shot, if we must!” exclaimed Nat, half angrily, striking at once into a more rapid walk. “Tf they run off with my mare, ’'N—T'll—” and again he strode faster over the prairie. Long—long, we journeyed in silence. Nat's appre- hension been aroused, and he was willing to walk the whole night to come up with those in whose he had so little faith. Now and then he would mutter incoherently to himself and shoot pa sy Sys ing me almost on a run to maintain my place é him. Suddenly he halted, and turned upon me with an expression I shall never —— I could seé his eee ae rag oe to twice the usual size, and his whole face aglow beneath his monstrous hat, as he asked, in a cold whisper: “Do you s’pose there are any Injins roving round the country to-night?’ “Tam gure I cannot tell, but I think it extremely probable. Are you fearful taat there are some upon our trail?” “There might be! Iwas thinking if we should come across any of them, they might be able to tell us whether any of them chaps think we’re lost, and have run off with my mare,” “Should we meet a lot of those sava; no doubt they would tell us something else bésides that.” “*T expect so,"’ and he wheeled around and strode ahead again. It was now getting near midnight, and I was completely worn out. It was out of the ques- tion to reach the camp that night, and we might as well submit to our fate at once, so I spoke rather decidedly. “Tya tired of this.” Nat turned and looked at me a second, and then | answered: _ “So am. We've to camp out, and there’s no use §n waiting till morning. Ain’t it lucky you brought your blanket with you? It would gohard to do with- out that to-night." “T brought it with me by the merest chance, not thinking I should need it. It was indeed fortunate; and now let us prepare to use it.”’ There was not much choice on the hard but warm earth. My blanket was ample and sufficient for both. After some search, a small depression was sé- lected, and in this I aprene my heavy blanket. We then stretched ourselves upon it, pulled the ends over us, being sure to inclose our rifles’ in its folds, and resigned ourselves to sleep. Ere the sun was fairly above the horizon, we were up and uponourway. Knowing the comp would not be in motion for several hours, we hoped to reach them before they breakfasted, and have a laugh over our afiventure. Nat led the way, and took long, rapid strides over the ground, seemingly oblivious of my existence. I kept beside him, now and then venturing a remark, but receiving no intimation that I was heard. nageae gh my friend came toa dead halt, dropping |’ the butt his rifle to the earth with a ringing clamp, and wheeled upon me with one of those inde- seribable looks. 1 knew something unusual was agi- “* What's the trouble now?” * It’s no use; we'll never see that company ag’in.” “What makes you speak thus?” “TI know so. I had a dream last night that my mare was gone forever and ever, andI know she is. Don't you remember that fur mt told us they’d change the direction they’s tra some time yes- terday? They hadn't done it when we le?t them, and they done it as soon as we got out of sight, I warrant.” I now remembered h our as also did the fur agent with us, that paved bend several miles ahead, We were traveling -east at thattimae, and the contemplated change ‘was nearly due south-west. This fact had entirely es- waped our minds, until it now occurred to Nat, and we had oonerey been proceeding in a wro’ direction, By ref to thesun, we found we far too much to east in order to interceph bability many in a direction us not a foot nearer the company than we and it was certain the party was : “This is apleasant discovery, Nat!” o Very ” “*T gee no hope for f fav mare. She is probably a good day’s journey digtant, and we do not know what direction to take % reach her.” . “That's it,” replied Nat, ill-humoredly; “if I knowed sure what way to tramp, I wouldn’t stop till I'd Jaid my hands on her for a certainty; but this trudging along, and just as like as not going away from her all the time, isn’t the thing.” ‘*Tsee no course left, then, but-to proceed south, in hope of falling in with some emigrant train, or in striking the Oregon trail, north, and getting into California ahead of them.”’ “The* Oregon trail then. If these fellows find they’ve got the start of us, they won’t give us a chance to come up again, and we might as well try to cateh a whirlwind as to follow them, No, we must try the Oregon trail, and get into California first. How far is the trail off?” ‘i can’t be ore a day’s journey; the trail follows the Platte through Nebraska, and I’m prett sure we cen reach it by nightfall, if we proceed pre ty steadily ana rsvidly.” The day was clear and pleasant, and the sky de- void of the least signs of threatening storm. ere were two or three white clouds straggling off in the western horizon, but the sky was of a deep clear blue. We now proceeded, in a northward course, intending to @ the Platte at the nearest point. South, east, and west the smail, waving hills of the prairie stretched, unrelieved by the slightest object, except in the west the far-off outline of some mount- ain-peak was just visible, resembling a slight pointed cloud against the blue ge This disappeared at noon, and we were again wanderers upon the illimitablé sea. A short time after, Nat’s keen vision detected a number of black, moving specks to the westward. “An em train, perhaps,” I pty pane “They're Pawnee Injins as sure as the world, and we'd better give them a wide berth.” “Pawnee Indians! How do you know that? You never haye been in this section before?” “That's true, but you" don't s'pose I started out here without first l'arning something "bout the coun- try and fo do you? If you do, you're mistaken, Just let me know in what part of the cou we are, and I'll let you know what — you will see, that is, if we are going to see any. Let’s keep to the east; I don’t want them Pawnees in sight.” * the Pawnee Indians are reported friendly to the whites.” “Exactly; but have they been reported honest ? If they should come upon us and take a fancy to our rifles, what is there to prevent them from taki them? And,” added Nat, with a shrewd shake o the head, “ I've not faith enough in their good inten- tions to want 'em in sight at this time,”’ Not unwillingly I turned my face more t6 the north-east, and soon saw them disappear from view. Some time toward the middle of the afternoon we descried a'solitary buffalo ahead. After considerable difficulty we approached nigh enough to bring him down. He was quite poor, and his flesh was stron and tough; but we were glad enough to get it, such as it was. He was thrown on his face, with his knees bent under him, a keen knife run along the spine with just sufficient force to penetrate the skin, which was then pulled down each side. This done, we cut the choice ees out, Nat reseryed the buffalo- skin for his blanket, and the rest was thrown away. Just at dark we reached a stream of considerable size, which I afterward learned was the Republican Fork of Nebraska. The point at.which we struck it | was about where it leaves the territory of. Kansas | and enters Nebraska. Although no considerable stream, we concluded not to cross it before morning, and we made arrangements for passing the night upon its banks. A goodly qosatity of drift-wood lay scattered along its shore. As the river was quite low, we gathered several armfuls, and had a fire soon started, The slain buffalo gave us a good supper. Seated around our fire, half-hidden in the river bot- tom, with the dark, glistening stream flowing silent- ly by, and smoking our pives, we naturally fell into an easy conversation. “ We can’t be far from the“ trail,’ can we?” asked Nat. “Turther than I su i,” I answered, ublican Fork, which I am convinced is the stream out there, is over fifty miles from the Platte.” “Fudge! Idon’t believe Ican head off them fel- lows after all, and my old mare and overcoat will go to thunder." ; “They will go somewhere where you will never see them again.”’ “I know I'm bound. to lose ’em, and Isha’n’t think any, more about them.’’ bid the best plan, Nat. They are no grest “Tsh’d like to know whether that greaser er fur agent took thotgh,” interrupted my friend, earnestly. ; isi : After this he fell:into a fit of musing, and we re- mained silent forsome time. When the fire burned “T guess not. We are so low down the that I it can be visible for no ‘able’ upon and the bend iw thé river fortunate- ly saves us from view up or down-stream. . The onl; from which it w: attract attention is. er pet "4 So ea Nat, in a whisper, removing his pipe, and gazing Library. on a level with the water; which rolled darkly ané noisily at our very feet;.and when crackling blaze arose higher than usual, the low face of the opposite shore was struck by the light. At such times I could not help refiecting what favorable chances were afforded any one who might be lurkin pagina I involuntarily shrunk from the fire, an felt relieved when the shore blended with the dark- ness, It now began to grow quite la dered low, when Nat, removing me with’ BOS a do you think of our journey to Califor. nia?” I was at a loss to comprehend his meaning. and looked at him for an explanation. “JT mean to ask whether you feel in such a hurry to get to the mines as you did when we were in Inde pendence?” : Now, to confess the truth, the experience of ths last week or two, and especially of the last two days, had done much toward penis the ardor which I once thought could never ‘leaye me; and I believe had I possessed moral courage enough, I should have seized the first opportunity to return to a home where I possessed enough to sa oy ee sensible per- son’s ambition. Still 1 hesitated to commit m¢ self, ; “T cannot say that I am; but what induced you o—? t ‘‘1’m sick of this business,” interrupted Nat, length. ening his legs with a spiteful jerk, and looking dis gustingly into the fire, “What has come over you?’ I asked,"ampsed af his manner. “Well, there’s that mare—”’ ‘But you promised not to think of her.” ‘How can I help it, I should like to know? She's one sure, and there’s that overcoat, that cost me our dollars and a half in Lubec; and Alminy made a big pocket in it on Do tev for me to fill full: of gold chinks; and I should like to know how I am going to do it, when a ercenes. has got it.” ‘‘T am afraid that that would not be the only diffi. culty you would be likely to experience, Nat, in ge*- ting it filled,” “And my jack-knife was in the coat-pochet, lark clare!” exclaimed he, suddenly starting up %,, pinchin alternately one pocket and.then another, thaibes r rinrsly one, a siete worse bag at the rest,’” he added, despairingly, falling upon bow, and gazing abstractedly ioe the fire, “Thait’s a trifling loss, surely, as you have your hunting-knife,”’ “T’ve a good notion to get up and go back now,” he added, not heeding my remark, ‘I’m sick of this business. It’s bad enough to lose the mare, but when the knife is gone I can’t stand it,” I knew this was but a momentary despondency with my friend, and for the sake of whiling away the time before sleep, I was inclined to humor it. “But what will you do for that gold that you was going to buy Deacon Hunt’s farm with for your niny ?”’ “Let her go without it,’ he answered, gruffly, without removing his pRze from the fire. “She can get along without it, I believe she only coaxed me to go off to Californy to get me out of the way, so that mean Bill Hawkins aight take my place. If he sot come any such game, he'll catch it when I get ack,” I laughed deeply, but silently, as I witnessed his appearance, at these remarks. It was so earnest and feeling that it was impossible to resist its ludi crousness. ‘* Nat,” said I, after a moment’s thought, im whicis my mind had taken an altogether different channel, **) am free to own that I have little faith tm our suc: cess in California. I propose that we seek our for tune elsewhere. The fact that-geld exists in Caii- fornia is now known all over the werld, aud we know there is not the remotest. corner ef her territory which is not swarming with hmadreds who leave ne means untried to amass their fortunes.” ‘But where else can we go?” “Tf gold existe in one spot on, the Pacific coast, if is oe to mio it exists in many others,”’ “Have you thought of any place?” “It seems to me thry in Oregon, among tie wit’ of the Rocky Mov’ ins, there must be procimi, the fire had smol- is cap, turned upon, “The | metal. ““But why hasn't, been found?” “Oregon is thinly settled and no suspicion has led them to search for it.” ** Well, let us dream upon it.”’ A.few more fagots were neapen upon the fire, and then we lay down for the wig ‘s y companion had Jain but a minute, when he sud- de i sprung to his feet, and exclaimed; “ Hurrah for Oregon!” - ‘Be careful,’ I admonished; ‘your, indiscretion may be fatal. That wall of darkness across the river looks gloomy and threatening enough to me.” “Tt does—Hello! I’m shot—no, I ain’t neither.” That. instant the report of a rifle burst from the other bank, and a bullet whizzed within an inch of m ion’s face. Re enven! are we attacked?" I ejaculated, start ang I beli AN onlied N: behind eve so,” re ‘at, coweri me. We listened “silently and # 7 put heard no more, The fire smoldered to embers, the river grew naenled | darker, and the night, moonless and cold upon us, But no sleep visited my eyelids that night. the gray dawn of morning | listened but beard no more, | % CHAPTER IL. NEW FRIEND. morning 5 OveRRETORS the prairie ¥ A As the t of . lish Not @ mewent felt an a ~
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} 3a - & - Peri gts - 00 ha S UG se. oy Nat's extreme foar toward mi ht gave way to drow- siness, and he slept long and heavily. “Oome, wake up, Nat!” said I, shaking him as g00n as I saw that day was at hand, “How? What's the matter?’ said he, rubbing his eyes, and Baping confusedly about him, = Day is at hand, and we must be on our way to e_hastily rose, and we commenced our simple os te) nena T ran up the river-bank, and swept the prairie to the south of us to satisfy myself that no wandering Indians were in sight. The whole plain wos visible, and with a feeling akin to joy, I reported the fact to Nat. He, however, was not satisfied with my survey, as he had more than once before detected ob- ects that had escaped my vision, and he ascended a igh roll in the bank, some distance up, and took a long, careful, scrutinizing sweep of the whole hori- zon. Feeling satisfied that he would pe no more re- warded for his pains than [ was, I started the fire and commenced. cooking some of our buffalo, I had beon engaged in this for a minute or so, when J heard Nat call, in a hoarse, anxious half-whisper: ~ “Come here, quick:” I hurried to his side to ascertain the cause of his agitation. “Why, just look yonder; if that ain't enough to —s one, then I don’t know what is,” € pointed across the river, out upon the prairie; and following the direction of his finger, I saw, not more than a mile or two away,a single horseman proceeding leisurely from us. “Who can that be?’’ I asked, half to myself, still watching the receding figure, “Why, he’s the one that sent the bullet across the water after us, and ’m yep it’s lucky for him he’s going another way, If I should get my hands on him, he would remember the time.” And Nat extended his arms energetically, and shook his head spitefully by way of emphasizing his remark. I continued gazing after the unknown person. At first I ppp it was.an Indian, but at thr i distance, and with his back toward us, it was almost impos- Bible to judge accurately. A moment’s thought con- vinced me that it was a white man. I could maice out tho hunting-cap of the trapper, and was soon satisfied he belonged to thai class. His horse was walking leisurcly along, and he seemed totally un- aware of the proximity of strargors. But who could it be? Was it he who had fired the well-nigh fatal shot? And what meant his actions in thus wil yleaving us? These and similar ques- tions I asked mysclf, without taking my eyes from him. When his figure had grown to ut a speck in the distance, I turnod to Nat. = We may see him again; but, if I don't know him, I know one thing, I'm wonderfully hungry just now, We partook of a hearty breakfast, and then, with- out much trouble, we forded the Republican Fork. Here we made a careful search of the shore, and ascertained enough to settle beyond a doubt the identity of- the horseman with the would-be assassin. His syotprints could be seen, and the place where he had slept upon the ground, together with scraps of meat. By examining the tracks of his horse, we discovered that both hind feet were shod; this de- cided. the question of his peing a white man; but, although it cleared up one doubt, left us in a greater one, He could not have avoided the knowledge that we were of the same blood, and what demoniacal wish could lead him to seek the life of two harmless wanderers? Be.he who he might, it was with no Christian feelings toward him that we took the trail of his horse and pursued i‘. Our course, after the first five miles, swerved con- siderably to the north-west. From the actions of the stranger, it was cvident he understood the character of the country, and we judged the shortest way of reaching the Oregon tre’! would be by following him. The footprints of his animal were distinctly marked, and we had no difficulty in keeping them, At noon we forded a stream, and shortly after another, both considerably less than the Republican Fork. On the nortliern bank of the latter were the still Seek 3 coals of the stranger's camp-fire, and we {aged 10 could be atino { distance. No signs of Indians were seen, and we anticipated little trouble from them, as they were friendly at this time, and the most thoy would do would be to rob us of some of onr trinkets or rifles. ; a sundown we left our guiding trail and struck toward a small stream to camp for the night. When we reached it, and decided upon the spot, Nat ac vPro eon” “T gay, ond, that feller might be near enough to give us another shot afore morning, and I’m going to see whether his trail crosses the brook or not.” So saying, he wheeled and ran back to the spot where we had left it. It was still light enough to fol- low it, and his head down so as to keep it in view, he continued upon a rapid the point of w him against thus Larionge J nto pore but not fi much Re rehension for his safety, I turned x back towa m.- A minute af- terward I heard his footsteps, and, looking up, saw run. I was nm him coming with full speed toward me, his eyes . dilated to thelr utmost extent, and with every ap- Pet He's there!” he exclaimed. ** Where?” I asked, catching his excitement. “ Just across the stream up there; Lliked to have Pun right into him afore I knowed it. See there!" As Nat spoke, I saw the glimmering of a fire ; Leen aes whinny of a horse. . see you?” “Yes, I know te did. WhenI splashed into the ier a fool, he looked up at me; I seen him piok * @f sheep had visited me that night, althou sail Biddon, Trapper. up his rifle, and then I put, expecting 2ach moment to feel a ball in me.”’ ” Ra “thought you intended laying hands on him if an gppormanit y offered,” I remarked, with a laugh. “T declare, I forgot that,’ he replied, somewhat crestfallen, Aftersome further conversation, I decided to make the acquaintance of the person who had oceupied so much or our thoughts, Nat opposed this, and urged me to get further from him; but a meaning hint changed his views at once, and he readily acquiesced. Leaving him, I started up the stream, When I reached the point opposite the stranger's camp-fire, I onenen so as to attract his attention, I saw him hurriedly scan me, but he gave no further evidence of anxiety, and I unhesitatingly sprung across the stream, and make my way toward him. Before I halted, I saw that he was a trapper. He was reclining upon the ground, before a small fire, and smoking a short bleck pipe. ‘‘Good-evening, my friend,” I said, cheerfully, ap- proaching within a few feet of him. He raised his eyes a moment, and then suffered them lazily to fall again, and continue their vacant stare into the fire, “ Quite a pleasant eveuing,”’ I continued, seating my- self near him, “Umph!"’ he grunted, removing his pipe, and to the upright position. He looked at me a secon with a pair of glittering eyes, and then asked: *“ Chaw, stranger?’ : **T sometimes use the weed, but not in that form,” I replied, handing a piece to him. He wrenched off ahuge mouthful with a-vigorous twist of his head, and returr.ed it without a word. This done, he sunk back to his former position. “Excuse me, friend,” said I, moving rather im- patiently, and*determined to force a conversation ject oe ““but I hope you will permit a few ques- ons?” “Go ahead, stranger,” he answered, gruffly. * Are you traveling alone in this section?” “ T reckon I ar’, ‘cept the hoss which ar’ a team,” Follow trapping and hunting, I presume?” ‘“ What’s yer handle, stranger?” he suddenly ask- ed, as he came to the upright position, looking at me with interest. - “William Relmond, from New Jersey.” ‘“Whar’s that place?” “Ttis one of the Middle States, quite a distance from here,” “What mought you be doin’ in these parts?” “Tand my friend out yonder are on our way to Oregon” ‘*Umph! you're pretty green ’uns.”’ “Now I suppose you will have no objection to give me your name.” “My handle’s Bill Biddon, and I’m on my way to trappin’-grounds up country.” “How far distanty" ; “A heap; some whar’ up "bove the Yallerstone.” **Do you generally go upon these journeys alone?” * Sometimes I does, and sometimes I doesn't.” I ceased my questions for a few moments, for fear of provoking him. -As his route, as far as it extend- ed, would be in our direction, L determined to keep in his company if I could gain his consent. He was a splendid specimen of the bas rms man. He was rather short, but heavy and thick set, with a com- pactness of frame that showed a terrible strength nrrenig: in hismuscles. His face was broad, cov- ered by a thin, straggling beard of a grizzled _gray and several ridged sears were visible in different parts of it. His brows were beetling and lowering and beneath them a couple of black eyes fairly snapt at times with electric tire. His mouth was broad, and though one could plainly see a whirlwind of ter- rific passion might be called into life within his breast, yet there was, also, in his face, the index of a heart alive to good-humor and frankness. I saw that, if approached skillfilly, his heart could be reached. e was evidently the- creature of odd whims and fancies, feeling as well ‘satisfied without the society of his fellow-man as with it—one of those strange beings, a hero of a hundred perils, who was satisfied to lose his life in the mighty wilderness of the Far West, without a single one suspecting or car- ing for his fate, ‘Would you have any objection to my friend and myself accompanying you, that is, as far as you should proceed in our direction?” He looked steadily at mea moment, and answered: “You kin go with me ef you wants; but I knows as how you're green, and yer needn't s’pose 'm goin’ to hold in fur-yer. Yer’s as never does that thing.” “Oh T shouldn’t expect you to. Of course we will make it a point not to interfewe in the least with yor plans and movements.” ‘ Vihar is yer other chap? 8S’ it war him what come peakin’ through yer a while ago; had a notion of spilin’ his picter for his imperdence.” **T will go bring him,” I answered, rising and mov- ing off. But as TI stepped across the stream, I dis- cerned the top of Nat’s white hat, just above a small box-elder; and moving on, saw his eye fixed with an eager stare upon the trapper. ‘3 a he look savage?" he whispered, as I came m. “Not very. Are you afraid of him?” ‘“‘No; but I wonder whether he—whether he knows anything about the mare and my ‘icnife?”’ : E Perhaps 80; come and see. He just now asked or you,” “Asked for me?” repeated Nat, stepping back. “What does he want of mey” “Nothing in icular. I just mentioned your name and he ed where you were, Come, aot you ain’t afraid?” ‘“‘ Afraid! I should like to see the man I’m afraid of!” exclaimed my companion in an almost inaudible whisper, as he tremblingly followed me across the = “brook and to the spot where Bidion, the'trapper, V4? lying. “ Ny friend, Nathan Todd, Biddon.”’ “How are you? Very happy to make your am quaintance,”’ and Nat nervously extended his hand. “How're yer?” grunted Biddon, with a slight jerk of his head, and not noticing the proffered hand. “Been a most exceedingly beautiful day,” venturs ed Ye neny and nervously. I&tw the a was not particularly inprosyed with him, and I took up the conversation. I made several unimportant inquiries, and learned in’ the course of them, that our friend, Bill Biddon, was about forty years of age, and had followed trapping and hunting for over twenty years.. He was a native of Missouri, and Westport was the depot for his pe tries. For the kast two or three years he had made all his excursions alone. He was quite o-famous trapper, and the fur company which he patronized gave him a fine outfit and paid him well for his skins, Te possessed a magnificently mounted rifle, and his horse, he informed me, had few superiors among the fleetest mustangs of the South, th of these were presented him by the company mentioned. ““Why ain’t you got horses?” Be asked, looking to- ward me,‘ “hey were both stolen from us," “T don’t s*pose you've seen any thing of a com- pany with a mare, zhort-tailed, that lim a little, and an overcoat that had a knife in the pocket?’ asked Nat, eagerly. ‘Not that I Knows on,” answered Biddon, with a twinkle of humor. I gave the particulars of eur loss, and them asked, Senha due thought: + of the Re * Did you not camp u vanks jpub- lican Fork last night?” sisi ‘Yas; what'd yer want te know fur?” “Oh, nothing, nothing,” quickly answered Nat. T believe tne trapper understood my allusion, and I hoped he would give an explanation of his act; but he made no reference to it,and after further convere sation, we all lay down in slumber, CHAPTER OL THE TRAPPER’S STORY. I was aroused from my slumber, before it was yet light, by Biddon shaking me and calling in my ear. ‘Come, you chaps, you've got only two minutea to swaller yer feed in.’ Nat was already moving about, and I sprung to m, feet, determined to continue in my friend's soot graces, if such a thing were possible, by a cheerful “zequiescence in all his reasonable wishes. Our fire was kindled, a hasty breakfast swallowed, and just as the sun made its appearance above the prairie, we moved off toward the north. Long before noon we reached the Platte, and ford- ed it at the point where Fort Grattan now stands. The Platte, ¢ the winter months, is a bois- terous stream of great width, but in summer it is ve shallow (from which circumstance it derives its name), and at the dry season it almost ceases running, and dwindles down to an innumer able number of ‘stagnant pools. As it was now tbe summer se , we walked over without more waft wetting our shoes. The Oregon trail follows the northern shore of this stream to W ton Terrie tory, or to what was Oregon at the time of which‘ write. Leaving the Platte, we shaped.our. course. 1 ward the north west, so as tostrike the southern spur of the Black Hills. From Biddou's conversation, I found that his destination was the neighborhood of the head-waters of the Tongue or Powder river, which have their canons in the Black Hills. : As he allowed his horse to proceed upon a moder ate walk, we had no trouble in keeping him com- pany. We generally started at the first indication of morning, halting now and then to slake, our thirst in the numerous streams which crossed Our path, and resting an-hour at noon. At sunset we struck meat upon some small stream, cooked our evening me spent an hour or two in smoking and conversation, and turned in for the night. One night we halted upon the bank of a large stream some miles no: the Platte, which emptied into the Missourl, It was quite broad and rapid, and near the center of the ela sand was visible. We. over this while fording 8 stream, and I noticed that Biddon walked aro it, and surveyed several spote with more than commion interest. I did not question him then, but at night bei Fa were we anew pare we fire, with cur £00 , Lven quiry. wy See’ rights on that chunk of ‘mud one sme,” said he, with a dark frown, ‘“What was it?—what was it?” asked oe ery mig “ Here’sas what don’t like to think of t time, a aay he answered, seeming still unwilling to’ refer to it. “Why not?" I asked, partaking of Nat’s curiosity, “It makes a feller’s blood bile; but howsumever,” he em brightening up, “if yOu wants to hear x, year ago that it happened. I was down one day in summer when. a feller slapped shoulder and axed me ef I wanted a job. 1 tole hira I didn’t care much, but if he’s a mind to fork over,
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= | pian tt ee RS COTS Se Fo. I went out onte the perarie, and seo’d the com- x. Thay were men, women and children, 'speci- ay last ones. Iseo'd they wanted good watchin’ I kinder hinted they'd find trouble before they’d repobed Oregon. There weren't many folks trampin’ these parts then, aud them as did go, had to make up thar minds to see fight and ha’r-ra’sin’. B’ars and beavers, they did! The reds war the same then all over, arter you got clear of the States, and no feller’s ha’r war his ewn till he'd lost it, “We started the next day, and struck the Platte afore night, There war but twonty good men, an’ I made half of ’em stand watch that night jist to git their hands in. In course they didn’t see nothin’, — one straddlin’ ae like this feller yer that is ed Nat. He said as how he see’d wonders, he did, and thar war a hundred reds crawlin’ round the canrp all night. ‘* We went purty slow, as it weren’t best to hurry the teams; but we hadn't been two days on the way afore the fools got into the all-firedest scrabble I ever ~ 3 psa Soe what it ‘p= ore but it rfec 80 big, they split com y, and part of ’em cross over and camped on Pother side of the Platte. I tole ‘em they'd see stars purty soon, if they didn’t splice again, but they’s too r’arin’ to do it, and I said if ey's & mind tobe sich fools, they mought be fur all me, and I'd let '’em go on alone. Howsumever, the gore party pone on fur me not to leave ’em, and "eluded to stay with ’em as I knowed purty well they'd need me all the time. “The biggest company as had crossed the Platte, a on by it, and so the others said they'd leave it and cut across fur Oregon. -I tole’em this war the best way, and so we left ’em. Them I war with war a heap the smallost, and had but three or four men and ‘five or six women and children. t made things look wuss I see d ‘signs’ when we parted, and Lknow'd purty well the reds smelt what war goin’ on. And "bout a doen times in the afternoon I could see ‘em off on the perarie, stealin’ ‘long, and dodgin’ through cover. I knowed that the imps were fol- Serin’ us, seein’ the other war a heap more powerful wor us, ‘*Things got so dubersome afore night, I said to the men ef they’d take the advice of a feller as ‘nowed what. he war ‘bout, they’d turn round and ever stop till they cotched the others; for ef they didn’t, they’d cotch it at night; reds war ‘bout ¢hem as thick as flies. They said how ef I's */raid 4 mought go back, but as for them heya ‘© through fire and blazes “fore they would. I felt riled ’nough at this to leave ’em,and I would ef it hadn’t been fur them poor women; they looked so sorrerful I made up my mind to stick to ’em fur thar sake. “We reached the stream just as it war growin’ dark, and the reds had got so sassy, that five or six of ’em stood a little ways off and watched us, ‘his scart the women and men, and they axed me what war to be done?. The women cried and wantcd to coax the Injins up to give ’em sunkthin’ to get, thar good will, but they war cross and sulky, and didn’t much. After some talk and a heap of cryin’, we ’cluded to camp on that piece of sand in the river. The teams war drew over and we follered. Tho wator war some deeper nor now, and it took us a long timo to land; but we got over at last. As soon as we war clean over, I:commenced fixing up thiags for the teds. We didn't build no fire, but put the teams to- pas near the middle, and the women inside ’em. ere was four men without me, and I set em round the place to watch fur sign, I made 'em all squat flat down on the mud close to the water, and told ‘em to blaze away at anything they see’d, ej it war o beaver or otter, and gave 'em pertickler orders not to wink both eyes at atime. I see’d they’s skeerish, and there weren’t no danger of thar snoozin’ on watch. “T’s pretty sartin the reds would come some of pr tric and come down the river; so I went u to the upper part of the thing, and laid in the mud m to watch fur em. I knowed too, they wouldn’t be ‘bout ‘fore purty late, so ~t took a short nap as I laid in the mud. When I woke up the moon war up in the sk end the river had riz so my pegs war in the water. Bopped out, but didn’t see nothin’ yet. I sneaked down round by t’other fellers, and found ’om all wide awake } Bnd they said, too, as how they hadn't seen nothin’ ’cept the river war gettin’ higher, which the kinder thought the Injins mought’v. done. Jist as war goin’ back I some of the purtiost singin’ in the world. Fust, I thought it war an Injin, ef it hadn't been so nice; then I 'cluded it must be an 5 I , and found it came from the wagons. [crept fp and see'd two little girls all "lone clus by the wag- ons, and a-singin’ sunkthin’. Shoot me! ef it didn’t ate oe se Wad ee trap, I couldn't neck an m meat- K nerd it, I want up 00 ity pines aga ant laid down ‘an the mud. Bvaawss down the river. I knowed the boys would see it, and J didn’t leave my place.. Thinkin’ as how this war only sent down to see what we'd do, I war lookin’ fur other things, when I heard a noisein the water, and, shoot me, ef a sneakin’ red didn't come up out of the water, and commenced crawlin’ toward whar the gals war singin’, (WJist put a little fodder on the re.) Isprung up and threw on some fagois, and then seated m self and anxiously awaited the rest of his story. He put away his pipe, filled his mouth with tobaceo, and, after seve annoying delays, re- sumed: “Thar weren’t no time to lose. I crept ‘long be- hind him, mighty sly, and afore he knowed it, come down spank onto him, I didn’t make no noise nor he either, I jist grabbed his gullet and finished him with my knife. I then crawled back ag’in, and, shoot me, ef I didn’t see forty logs comin’ down onus; the river war full of ’em, *“*T jumped up and hollered to the other fellers to look out, They come up aside me and stood ready, but it weren't no use. ‘Fore we knowed it I see'd over forty of ’em ‘longside us. We blazed into ‘em and went to usin’ our knives, but I knowed it would- n'tdo, They set up a yell and pitched fur the wag- ons, while "bout a dozen went at us. The fust thing i knowed the whole four boys) were down and thar ha'r raised and the wamen screechiu® murder, It made me congas and I reckon I done some tall work that night. Most these beauty-spots on my mug come from that scrimmage. I see’d a red dart by me with that little gal as was singin’, and cotched a dead red’s gun and let drive at him; but the gun weren't loaded, and so the devil run off with her. ** The oxes war bellerin’, the horses snortin’, aud the tomahawks stoppin’ the women's screams; the red-skins war bowlin’ and yellin’ like all mad, and as I had got some big cuts and knocks, I eluded it best to move quarters. So I made a jump for the stream, took a long dive, and swum for the shore. I come up ’bout whar you're setting, and I made a heap of tracks ‘fore daylight come.’ : * And did you never hear any thing of the chil- dren?” *T never see’d ‘em ag’in; but I come “cross a chap at Fort Laramie when I went down ag‘in, what said he'd seen a gal ’mong some of ¢he red-skins, up in these parts, and I've thought p'r’aps it mought be one of em, and ag’in it moughtn’t.’ “Did you say that all happened out there?” asked Nat, jerking his thumb toward the island meutioned. “Tt peckon I did,” “But there’s a lot of Injins there now!” exclaimed he. ** As like as not,” returned Biddon, with a sly look at me. “I'm goin’ to sleep then,” and rolling himself u in his buffalo blanket, all but his feet disappear from view. ** Tt’s "bout time to snooze, I think,” remarked the trapper, in a lower tone, turning toward me. ‘*] think so, but Samp pose there need be no appre- hension of molestation from Indians, need there?’’ Biddon looked at me a moment; then one side of his mouth expanded into a broad grin, and he quietly remarked: ‘Times are different from what they used to war.” ** Biddon,” said I, after a moment's silence, ‘ be- fore we saw you we camped upon one side of a stream while you were upon theother. Now, Ido not suppose you would will fully harm a stranger; but since I have met you, I have a great desire know why you fired that shot at Nat.’ A quiet smile illumined the trapper’s swarthy vis- age; and, after waiting a moment, he answered: Phe way on it war this; I see’d you and Nat camping there, and I s’pected you war gwine to tramp these parts. _I-watched you awhile, and was gwine to sing out to you to come over. Then said I, Biddon, you dog, ain’t there a chance to give them a powerful scare?’ First I drawed bead on you, but when that Nat jumped up, I let fly at him, and he kerflummuxed splendid, Howsumever, it’s time to snooze, and I’m in for it.” With this, we wrapped our blankets around us, and in a few moments were asleep, On a clear summer morning, we sallied out upon the broad, open prairie again, The trapper now struck in a direction nearly due north-west, toward the Black Hills. The face of the country began to change materially. Vast groves of timber met the eye, and the soil became rich and productive. At noon we encountered the most immense drove of buffaloes that I ever witnessed. They were to the west of eames proceeding in a southern direction, cropping t “—— clean as they went. Far away as far as the vision could reach, nothing but a sea o black moving bodies could be distinguished.. The whole western horizon, from the extreme north-west to the south-west, was occupied solely by them, and nothing else met the eye. ey were not under way, and the whole mass was moving slowly onward. ‘The head buffaloes would a mout of grass, and then move on a few feet and another. Those behind did the same, and the whole number oe apes ng inthis manner. This pe change of position gave an appearance, as view from my standing-point, similar to the long heaving of the sea after a violent storm. It was truly a mag- nificent s \. We approached within a short distance, {ec A were scai wn calves by her side, but rushed off into the drove, () scalf-Dime Library. Sr - - i was filled with such gea, The F, a vast cloud of dust that the sun’s light was darken ed, and, for a time, it seemed as if we should suffo cate, We remained in our places for over an hour, when the last of these prairie moysters thunderec by. A strong wind carried the dust off to the west, and we were at last in clvar air again. I looked away in the Cirection of the herd, expect ing to see my buffalo’s lifeless form, and waz con- siderably chagrined 2t my disappointment, as was also Nat at his. The trapper’s prize was a dozen yards from where it had been struck. * Pears to me,”’ said he with a sly smile, *‘T heer’p our mits bark, but I don’t see nothin’ of ny buffa- 0eS. Y “T hit mine,” Tanswered quickly; “Iam sury of it.” ** Whereaboute?”’ “In the head, plump and square.” ** Whar’d you sight yourn, ew “Just back ot the horns, and I hit him too, If he hasn't dropped before this, he'll have the headache for a week.’ ‘“B’ars and beavers, you! Them buffiers didn't mind your sh¢ts more nor a coume of hailstones. Do wo see wkar I picked mine?” ed the trapper. pulling the buffalo’s foreleg forward, and disclosing the track of the bullet behind it. *Isn’t a shot in the head fatal?’ I asked in aston- ishment. us Lf ee might nis ‘em nad Pad ceneo n ball, and ey’ up and run agin, ou’'d pepper ’em all day whar you did yourn, ond ick the bullets out thar ha’r and they wouldn’t mind it.” This I afterward found tobe true. No shot, how- ever well aimed, can reach the seat of life in the puttete through the head unless it enter the eye, fair ront. The ig ea buffalo was thrown forward upon his face, his s bent beneath him, and d after the usual fashion, He was in good condition, and we had a rich feast upon his carcass, The trapper selected a few choice portiens from the inside, relished only by himself, and, ctitting sev- eral huge pieces for future use, the rest was left for the wolves. We proceeded but_a few miles further, and en- camped upon the banks of the Dry Fork, a small stream, a few miles south of the Black Hills, There was but a foot or two of sluggish water, and in the hot season it was often perfectly dry. Here for the first time I was made aware of. the changeable char- acter of the climate in this latitude. The weather, thus far, had been remarkably fine, and at noon wa found the air sometimes oppressively warm, Toward night the wind veered around to the north-west, and grew colder, At nightfall, when we kindled our firg the air was so cutting that Nat and I were in a shivey, Had it not been for our blankets we should have su‘ fered considerably, though Biddon did not cull hig into requisition. A number of cottonwood trees were at hand, which served partly t® screen us frem the blust. After our evening meal, Biddon remarked: “The fire must go out, boys.” “Why? Do you apprehend danger?” I asked. “Don't know as I do; I hain’t seen wign, but we're gettin’ into parts summat skeerish.” “T guppose it’s about time for the Indians te come?’ remarked Nat, interrogativel “ “They're "bout these parts. Me’n Jack Javin onee got into a scrimmage yer with ’em, when we didn’t spect it, and jist ‘cause we let our fire burn while we snoozed. I’d seen sign th h, then, and I want- ed to put it out, but he wa’n’t afeard.” ‘Let's have ours out then,” exclaimed Nat, excit edly springing up and seattering the brands around, . Meedn > mind "bout taat; itll go out soon enough.” As Nat reseated himself, Biddon continued: “You see, Jarsey, them reds kin smell a white man’s fire.a good way off, and on sich a night aa this, ef they’re "bout t ey'll be bound to give him a call, You needn’t be afeard, howsumever, to snooze, *cause they won’t be ’bout.” It was too cold to enjoy our pipe, and we all bun- m dled up for the night’s rest. heard the trap- "s wy brea ing, and shortly after Nat ed fim in slumber. ut I found it iImpossi to ane. The was so cold that my blanket could not pro me, and the cu was ter. rible. I used every means that I devise, but it = ir to prevent freezing. T started pre ron dea over the prairie, t continued a long distance, until retty exhaust- ed. I turned to retrace may eee warming with the exercise, and I h counting upon sound sleep for the remainder of the continwed my run for a full half-hour, and then in amazement, as I saw no signs of my com- Ons, ust have the spot w! were gp gen cages back but without the men, I had lost and it was useless to hunt them
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SS ee sure that they would be at no great distance, I now commenced searching for a suitable place for rest, angel at last hit mpot a small depression in the prairie, where a stone was imbedded in the earth on one side, which served to protect me from the chill- ing wind. As I nestled down bestde this, such a feel- ing of warmth and comfort came over me that I con- greetiaeet myself upon what had seemed a misfor- Ae Lying thus, just on the verge of sleep, my nerves painfully alive to the slightest sound, I suddenly felt a trembling of the ground, At first it seemed a cyeam; but, as I became fully awake, I started in terror and listened. I raised my head, ‘but heard no sound, and still in the most perplexing wonder sunk dewn again, hoping it would shortly cease. But there was a steady, regular increase, and presently I dis- tinguished millions of faint tremblings, like the dis- tant mutterings of thunder, Gradually these w plainer and more distinct, and finally I could distinguish sounds like the tread of innumerable feet upon the prairie. Every second the jor of the earth became more perceptible. Sud- denly the truth flashed upon me—a herd\of buffaloes tad Gipproaching. rfor an instant held me dumb, My first re- solve was to rush forth and warn Nat and Biddon; but I reflected that they must have been awakened, ere this, and that I could do nothing to ward off the which threateried all alike. Springing to my ect, I paused a second to collect my tumultuous teomghis. Oould I reach the timber, I could ascend a tree and be beyond danger; but I knew not what direction to take, and there was no time to spare. To remain was to be trampled to death; to rush away could save me but a few moments longer. God of heaven! what a death! Louder and louder grew the thundering tread of the animals, and I stood like a madman, the cold sweat pouring off me, tormented by a thousand i even and expecting death each mo- ment! Nearer and nearer came the rattle of the chiaping hoofs, and I stood rooted to the t! Sinking on my I implored mercy of the One who could give it in this moment of dire necessity; and while on my knees the means of preservation presented itself. ~ sirens 1 I exclaimed, breathing deeply, ‘that I did not think of it before.”’ I have said that I was in a sort of depression or hollow in the earth, and that a large stone was im- bedded on one side. Nowa safer and more secure shelter could not have been found in this emergency, Wrapping my blanked around me, I crept as far neath it as I could, and was saved! A few minutes later a dark body plunged headlong over me with the rapidity of lightning, followed in- stantly by‘another and another, and I knew the herd were thundering past. For a long time I lay there beneath those thousands of feet, one of whic: would have been sufficient to kill me, e incessant crack- ling of their hoofs, and rattling of their horns, sound- ed like the discharge of musketry, Once a ponder- ous body tumbled over the rock which sheltered me, and I caught sight of a dark, bg bellowi mass, and the next instant it regained ts feet anc disappeared. It must have been an hour that I lay here, ere the last animal Jea over me. Then I looked up and saw the stars shining overhead. My joy at the sight of those glittering orbs cannot be expressed. I arose to my feet, and looked about me. It was too dark to discern objects, PA I could hear the Toiey. re- trea’ footfalls of the herd in the distance, Sink- ing to the earth, I offered a sincere prayer of grati- tude to the Almighty for His miraculous preserva- tion of my life! CHAPTER IV. THE TRAPPING-GROUNDS, Iwas eably su rised be waning, AS. oe aoa within a few feet, holding two horses by the bridle, “Which one will you choose?” he asked, with a broad smile, “How did you come by them?” asked I. “Ts'pose it must have been about the time you Jeft us fast night that Biddon woke me and told me to follow him, as there was a powerful chance to get acouple of horses for you and me. I asked him where you could be, and he said he s’posed you'd me further up-stream to sleep by yourself, though Ee hodn't seen yougo. Howsumever, we wasn’t wor- ried, as we thought you were old enough to take care f yourself, so we started down the of the stream. We went about half a mile, when Biddon showed me a small camp-fire, burned down to a fewc and ashes; but there was enough light to show us twe horses picketed a few yards away, and. we seen the feet of a couple of ted-skins turned ‘toward the fre. Biddon said as how they was a couple of hunt- ers, sound aslecp, and we might Jorrow their horses, tf I didn’t make too much noise. He told me to stand. still, and keep my gun pointed at them, and the minute one stirred to shoot him, and then rush in and dispatch the other. I promised to do so, and he stole round to the hosses on his hands and knees. He had cut both the lariats and was leading them away, when oue of the Indians raised his head and Jooked around, and as soon as he seen the, hosses wn ib 6, 9 oif give a grunt and Jumped up and run to- ward them. I remembered it was my duty to shoo and as the Indian was running purty fast, I aime about ten feet ahead of him, supposing, of course, the villain would git there as soon as the bullet did; I'll be ha if he wasn’t mean enough to step anc fet the bullet be wasted. My gun kicked like blazes, and the In I s’pose, thought a whole tribe was them; for setting 1p a great howl, they scooied of in the ice ern ar i alone with the ani- B d ] Ww be- Pp po Pp ‘a Pp oals p ' t Bill Biddon, Trapper. mals. Running back, I overtook Biddon, who was riding along as if nothing had happened. He asked me to ride, and of course I jumped on, and here I am. But which hoss do you want{” “T do not see as there is much room for choice,” Z replied; ‘both are splendid animals, and a most opportune blessing,” “Tt iv’s all the same to you, this gentleman is mine; and handing the bridle of one to me, he vault- ed upon the other. The latter was a magnificent Indian pony, of a deep. bay color, probably captured when very young, and high-spirited and fiery. Both manifested considerable uneasiness, know- ing they were in the hands of strangers, and Nat's made one or two efforts to dislodge hha: but he was a good horseman and maintained his place with a parent ease despite the struggles, which were frantic and desperate at first, Mine was somewhat larger, of a coal-black color, with as much spirit and fire as the other, but in a few moments we had them under perfoet control. esides these two animals, we gained two, fine In- ian saddles, and were now as well mounted as we could wish. Nat remarked, that when the buffaloes thundered by he felt some apprehension, for me, but the trapper expressed none, saying thaf I would be found right in the morning. As soon as there was light, Nat commenced searching the bed of the stream for me, and failing in this, be climbed a tree and took a survey of the prairie on both sides, From his elevation he discovered what he believed to be my dead body; and accompanied by Biddon and the 1orses, hastened toward me. Upon reaching me, they understood instantly the whole matter, and it was their loud laughter that had aroused me. e were how pretty far to the north-west of Ne- braska Territory, The face of the country was ma- terially different, and I began to notice a change of temperature. @ summer had just closed, and the early autumn was like the approach of winter. The nights were cool and chilling, and the days generally mild at noon, but often keen and exhilarating. The ore was mostly of the rolling kind, but belts of and the vegetation imber were more common richer and more exuberant. It was plain, too, that we were in a section where the foot of civilization had not been, The vast, undulating swell of the prairie, the mighty flelds of verdure and the broad streams, bore only the marks of the red-man and wild beast. Toward noon, Nat descried a solitary antelope far ahead, It was near a grove, from which it had just wandered, and stood gazing wonderingly at our ap- dire We rode on in silence for some time, when iddon raised his hand. ** Jes’ hold on,*’ he said, as he dismounted. He made a circuit, skirting the prairie, so as to reach the grove mentioned upon the opposite side from theantelope. I still was ata loss to understand his intention, as the animal was too distant from the timber to be brought down with a rifie-shot from that point, On the outer edge of the grove, next to the ante- lope, I saw him emerge, holding a stick over his head, to which was affixed a handkerchief or rag. He walked a short distance, and then lay down flatupon the prairie, pes. concealed in the grass. The rag was visible fluttering above him. 1 now watched the motions of the antelope, He stood gazing at us, until the trapper came into view, when, with a star- tled glance at him, he wheeled and ran. In a mo- ment, however, he paused and turned quickly around. His looks were now fixed upon the fluttering signal, He stood motionless a moment, and then cautiously lifting his foot, made a step toward it. Thus he con- tinued to approach, step by step, with ap arent fear, yet evidently impelled by an ungove e curiosity, until he was scarce a hundred yards distant from the prostrate form of the trapper. Still he was movi stealthily onward, when ‘suddenly the sharp crac of Biddon’s rifle reached us, We saw the antelope sve a wild leap into the air, and bounding forward, Il to the ground. The trapper sprung to his feet and hastened to the fallen animal. Let us ride to him,” said I, walking my horse on- ward. We had ridden a short distance when Nat asked: “What's got into Biddon? Just look at him!” I did look, and for a moment believed him crazy. He had seen us. approaching, and was now making furious gesticulations. I watched him a moment, and then remarked: oe is either signaling for us to come on or to Ay pre ; ae means us to wait, I guess, and we had better alt. We reined in our horses and watched him. Appa- rently satisfied with our stopping, he stooped and commenced working at the animal. In a few mo- ments he arose, and slinging a huge piece on his shoulder, made his way into the grove. From this he emerged in due time, and made his way toward us, aOR, meanwhile, for us to remain in our laces. “Why didn’t you wish us to approach?” I asked, as soon as he came within speaking distance. He made no answer, but throwing his meat upon the ground, hastily mounted his horse. Then he spoke in a deep whisper: “* Boys, did you s'pose there’s over twenty red-skins among them trees? “Heavens! it isn’t possible!’’ I exclaimed. “Tt’s 80; I see’d ‘em, and thar eyes are on us this minute, They're waitin’ for us to go on, an’ they’H give us thunder.” ** What’s to be done?” queried Nat, = ‘* Jes’ keep still, an’ don't kick up, or they'll see it. We've got to make a ran for it. Keep close to me, and when I start, let your horses went.” “ But the meat?’ 1} nurriedly asked, | Where it was intended we should remain until — E “Can't take it. We may have a long run, an’ our horses won't want to carry no extra load, I didn’t see thar animals, but I guess they ain’t mounsil, With this, Biddon wheeled his horse, and vanisue/» from his place with the speed of. li htning, while ouw almost simultancously shot ahead Jike an arrow. A’ instant after, I heard the faint disch of gun, and looking back, saw a host. of savage forms pour. ing pyeiiy from the timber. ‘No need of hurrying. They are not mounted,” £ callled out to Nat, who was hurrying his horse to the utmost, “I don’t believe it,” he exclaimed, speeding furt ou on, a pO it, Todd! you'll fetch up at Laramie,” yelled adaon, . _ The latter drew his horse into a steady canter, and indulged in several loud laughs at the fugitive, Nat continued on in his mad eareer, but, seeing how far behind he had left us, he reined up and awaited our rae nan in the ti hurryi The savages, in mean time, were om in pursuit. I know not what led them to eapee. any success in this chase, for, as remarked, not one wag mounted. They may have had little faith in the speed or botéem of our horses, and trusted they would be able torun us down. Biddon half tu in his seat, and looking back a moment, asked: “Do you see that red, digwin’ like all mad off on one side? The one as is trying to surround us?” ony back and answered in the affirmative. you want to see a red drop in purty style?” “Wal ie “ie paenin in the oe any ey ; eep yer poeper on him. So saying, he Fajoed hia rifle, without checking the speed of , took a quiek aim ite long barrel and . To me eee © Indian and springing high in the air, or," remarked the trapper, quickly. thd I fodder my iron, s’posen you ey your and,”’ I raised mine to my shoukder, and pointing it toward a suspicious savage, pulled the trigger. As might be ex , I came about as near to him as I did to Nat, in front. “It will take a long time for me to accomplish that feat,” said I. “Wal, yer goes ag’in.” And again was the fatal rifle discharged, and again did a savage bite the dust. Still the pursuers maintained their ground, seem. ingly determined to overtake us at allhazards, They were separating and scatteri over the prairie with the evident intention of hemming us in. At this moment we came up to Nat. “Why don’t you run?” he asked, impatiently. “ They'll shoot us all afore we know it.” He had scarcely finished his words, when the pur- suers did fire, and with an uncomfortable eo 00. The bullets were piaialy heard whistling through the air beside us, and one actually cut its pny genes on the apr part of Nat's hat, some eight or inche@ from the crewn of his head. He dodged nervously, and jerking the hat off his head, held it up to view. “Just. look there!” he exclaimed, indignant's: putting his finger through the orifice, “What of it?’ gruffly asked Biddon, “That's a pretty question to ask, I should think! I swow I won't stand any su» work as this.”’ aon giving his horse th win, he shot rapidly “IT guess we mought as well,” remarked Biddon, letting his horse have free rein. The race was now decided, At such speed as we went, of course the pursuers were soon left behing, ami in an hour not one was visible, all of them being either distaneed, or having voluntarily, withdrawn. at is not n to e the particulars of ewr journey to the north-west. We continued ripsbew mI onward for six days, when we reached the reg m I This was much further northward than I suspected; in fact, it was but a few miles distant from the Hud- son Bay Territory, and upon one of the remote trib- utaries of the ourl, We had entered a climate that, even now, was like the winter of the one we had left. We had entered a mighty wilderness, where, ere we left it, we were doomed to pass through strange experiences, Beaver sigus were detected at several streams which we crossed during the last day or two of our journey, but Biddon Py no attention to them until about gt acetigy wad CS) ee age when = reached a sna ver flowing n ue south, passin through the Hudson Bay Territory in its couras: When upon the opposite side, he remarked. " “ Yer's the spot whar we're goin’ to squat."’ Tt fa perhens worth remarking that the section was a wooded country. We had over no clear rairie during the day, and were in the midst of a eep wood. The trees were of nearly every conceciv- able kind—cottonwood predominating, with oak, elm, ash, walentete- cad : After crossing, the trapper headed directly 1 stream for a short distance, when he aire ie 4 the left and descended into a valley. Here he dig. mounted, ; ; “Take yer fixin's,” said he, ‘and turn the hosses ‘oase.”’ ‘* Won't they wander away,” I asked, “ Yourn may, but mine won't. Got to take your chances. "Tatm’t likely they'll be 'sturbed, ‘cept by grizzlies andreds,”’ Ii was a broad bottom of rich grass inclosed by thick walls of undergrowth. Here we'left our horses, and, taking our saddles and trappings, moved away. ** Have you ever been here before?” “5 staid yer last season, but didn't 'spect. to coma
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-> back. Howsumever, I my mind, and yer we is, Move keerful and don’t make a big trail."’ We followed nearly a quarter of a mile direotly up- stream, when he halted and loeked carefully about “T don’t s’pose thar’s red ‘bout, but thar’s no tellin’, I didn’t see none last year, but they mought be "bout Bow. Jes’ hold on a minute.” The banks of the stream were fringed by a deep undergrowth upon both sides. Stepping forwarl to the water's edge, the eee parted the branches, and glancing a moment n, motioned for us to ap- roac h, Pn It’s all right,”’ said he, ‘‘ there hain’t been no reds kin' "bout yer while I's gone.”’ With this he stooped and pushed a small canoe in- to the water and slipped within it, We joined him, although our combined weight brought the frail vessel down to its very gunwales. It was made of bark after the Indian fashion, ve ht, but strong. Biddon dipped a long Indian pede die in the water and we moved slowly up-stream. After going a short distance, he again touched the , and from beneath eee rap lot of shrubbery w forth a number of beaf@r-traps. These were similar to the common trap ised in all parts of the world, and set much after the same fashion, but with a very diferent bait. At every point where signs of the animals were visible, he dug down the bank, so as to make a certain side perpendicular. Just be- neath the surface of the water he then placed the trap,. The next and last proceeding was to smear the bank around with a very odoriferous oil, obtain- ed from the beaver itself. This smell attracts the beavers in the vicinity, who immediately s to the shore to learn more of it. The trap isso arranged that one is sure to place his foot directly upon it for stupport in x a gg the bank, and the natural con- soqnenee follows. He is caught and falls into his mor- tabenemy's hands, : “Ef we aon’t have a dinner on beaver-tails to- orrow, then I’m a beaver,” remarked Biddon, after he had set all his traps and headed his canoe down- stream. “A dinner on beaver-tails!’’ exclaimed Nat, in as- tonishinent, ‘‘ That must bea fine dinner, I swow.”’ “Tf? you had read much of these animals, you would know that the part mentioned by Biddon is the most delicious and nourishing portion,” said I. *“ And when you gits a bite of it, you'll find it so, I reckons !’’ “ Perhaps so,”’ replied Nat, doubtingly; “but whar ar’ = roing to take us?”’ You'll find out when we get thar.” The trapper rowed the canoe quite a distance down- stream, when he sheered in to shore close to where a huge chestnut tree, larger than ahy I had ever be- fore seen, overhung the water. Its base was envel- oped by a mass of undergrowth, denser than com- moan, and we were obliged to stoop to the edge of the boat before we could make our way beneath it. As we aprung up the bank, it pulled up behind us, and I then noticed that the chestnut was holiow,.and had a deep orifice at its base. : “Voller,” commanded Biddon, stooping and crawl- e did so, although there was some hesitation ge my part, and my astonishment was unbounded at what I witnessed when within. At first nothin was visible but the darkness, and I stood, fearful o advancing or bmg! ne ‘Where are you, Biddon?” asked Nat, in a aigntiy wavering tone. The nextinstant the trapper struc e light; and as its rays filled the chamber, I repeat, my astonishment was unbounded. We were stand- tng in an open space, at least eight feet in diameter. ene chestnut was but a mere shell, with its trunk ut a few inches in thickness at the most. The in- terior of this was fitted up like a house. The rotten chunks upon the sides had betn torn down, and formed a a goa en velvety carpet beneath the feet. All around the walls were hung numerous furs, and a pile at one side. afforded a bed such as we had not enjoyed for may ar groin arah ag = mere there wae an arrangement so as to make it perfec y and con- venient to kindle a fire. Nat was the tire | to express his unbounded astonishment. ““Buis beats all. I never seen anything like it. But Aon’t the Indians know anything of it?’ ' “No, sir; and I cac’late as how they won't, néeyther, ef you don’t tell 'em,” Oh! I won't tell them, I swow this is queer,” end he looked slowly about and above him. ‘** What's ‘nat hole for?” he asked, pointing to a small ovifiee cust visible far above us, * That's for the smoke to go out.” sr aor it must be likely to attract attentiom,’’ I re- Lar. . “JT never start a fire 'cept at night.” “*T see—wonderful!” and I, too, oo mmegeten ebout me. The light made the whole interior visible, Vhe dark, snuff-colored fragments of decayed wood iumg in ponderous masses above us, and the im- mense diameter gradually tapered as it ascended, ‘until only the opening far above, was seen, re- gembling a faint star. The hickness of the wood, to- gether with the great number of furs, protected us so well from the cold, that there could be little need of fire in the coldest weather except for cooking pur- a ee “This is rather odd, I allow, to you, Jarsey; but ef you had been with me down on the Yallerstone, you'd seen suthin’ as would ’ve made you look, you would, You may shoot me, ef you wouldn't.” “1 sw I should, but not more than this has.”’ igs not; but don’t stand gapin’ there all day. b 1 E , and we'll have our fodder.” fire was por une. “eit the ee noencee finely, esca) at outlet. g ce of m Baa ce gee Se a hearty supper upon it, Beadle’s Half-Dime Library. After this the fire was aBowed to slumber, but the light remained burning until a late hour. We lit our pipes, and chatted dredmily for a long time in our new home. The trapper, feeling in the mood, related many reminiscences of his life, including adventures both tragical and comical, and Nat gave a few of his own experiences, Ata late hour we ceased, and fell into a peaceful, dreamless slumber. When I awoke the trapper had disappeared. Nat was stretched beside me, still asleep. In a short ous xe former entered as noiselessly as he had de- parted. ‘What fortune?” I asked, “Good; had two fat fellers. Wake up, and we’ll have a meal as is a meal.” Nat soon made a moyement, and, after several yawns, became fully awake. The alta kindled a small fire, and cooked his beaver-tails. The two made as choice and delicious a meal as I had ever eaten. Nat was convinced. The day was clear and pleasant, and Biddon, ex- pressed his determination of going up the stream in order to see the signs of game. I accompanied him, but Nat chose to remain at home and sleep a few hours longer. We sauntered carelessly forth up the stream through the tangled underwood. It was a clear day in autumn; the air was keen and bracing, and the woods gloriously fine. Some of the leaves were just beginning to fall, and they made a dappled and fiery carpet for our feet, rustling with a soft, pleasant sound at every step. Now and then we could hear the shrill notes of some songster of the forest, and once or twice the faint bay of some distant animal. We had wandered some distance, wher Biddon pro- osed turning back, as he had just discovered he nad forgotten his pipe. Iwas too well pleased, how- ever, with the prospect to retrace my footsteps, Ac- cordingly, we vy oko company fora time, he remark- ing that probably he would return when he had re- gained his indispensable article. Left alone, I now wandered dreamily onward in a pleasant reverie, hardly conscious of what I was do- ng, until I was recalled to my senses by the gran- deur of a new scene that suddenly burst upon my view. I had ascended a small rise on the bank of the stream, from which I had an extended view of the river. I stood for a moment rapt in the glories of the scene, Far behind could be discerned the broad bosom of the river, stretching away like a vast body of molten silver, bordered on each side by the mighty forest, until it disappeared in a sweeping curve, with- in the interminable wilderness. Above me the same winding course could be. seen, brightly glistening for seve miles. Not a ripple disturbed the surface, save when a bird skimmed over it, just tippin its wings, and making a flashing circle or two. ‘The blue sky above, unflecked by a single cloud, harmonized so well with the magnificent view, that I stood a long time, drinking in the splendor of the scene. My eye was still resting upon the glistening bend of the river above, when the quietness of the scene was interrupted by a dark speck which suddenly came in view around a curve about a mile above, At first I supposed it to be some animal or log floating upon the surface; but as I looked at it, I saw to my astonishment that it was a canoe coming down- stream, Several forms wer® visible, yet their num- ber, at that distance, was uncertain. The bright flash-of their paddles was visible in the morning sun- shine, and they maintained their place near the cen- ter of the stream. _Iserutinized them, vainly, to make out their num- ber, until it occurred to me that it would be best to make myself invisible, The approaching canoe might contain nothing but Indians, and it was not desirable that our presence in this section should be known to any but ourselves. I slipped behind the trunk of a tree, nearer the water, yet still upon the elevated knoll, which entirely concealed my body from sight, From this point I watched the approach of the canoe with interest. Soon it came nigh enough to enable me to distinguish the forms within it. There were two Indian warriors, seated, each with a paddle | in his hands, but not using them, exeept to meen the eanoe in’ the channel, and in the stern, with a guiding oar, sat a young female, [ sup her a squaw, belonging to the same tribe with her com- panions, and scrutinized her as closely as my po- sition would permit. She wore a beautiful head- dress, gayl ornamented with stained porcupine- quills an s, and a brilliant crimson shaw! en- veloped her slight form. The savages maintained their places as motionless as statues, their gaze ap- parently resting upon the stream behind them; while. that of the female was fixed upon the stream in front, and her whole attention absorbed in direct- ing her canoe. know not whether the inmates discovered me be- fore I concealed myself, but I fancied I detected a pance of the Indians at my hiding-place, as they oated slowly by, and some cause led the female. when directly opposite, and but a few hundred feet distant, to turn her face toward me. Judge of my astonishment, at perceiving that she was not an In- dian—but a white woman! Her appearance, as she turned her gaze directly upon the spot where I was standing, I can never forget, She was so close at hand, and my view so perfect in the clear sunlight, that I saw every feature. The pale white face, sur- rounded by dark, luxuriant hair faliing upon the shoulders, the dark eyes shaded by long inky lashes, and the mute, untrausiatable look, haunted me for many a night after. She merely glanced*toward me, and slowly floated past. Dropping upon my bands and knees, I crept hasti- ly from the knoll into the undergrowth below, and made my way hurriedly but m2 reaog Be the stream, IT couki not have been over a minute in so doing, but when I reached the water, and t the bushes, not a trace of the canoe was visible. Idook- ed closely into each sho up and down the stream, everwhere that I could ak, ut could not detect the slightest ripple or movement to account for this by gage: pearance, Forever an hour I wait- in the hope that the canoe would reappear, but I saw nothing more of it, OHAPTER V. CONVERSATIONS AND PLANS. Tur disappearance of the canoe, although — lar in itself, Rad nothing supernatural about it. C) shrubbery, which overhung the water on either shore offered a secure and impenetrable hiding-place, and a few dextrous, a Se strokes of the oars were all that was needed to send it beneath their shadows. That this had been done, was plainly evident. Yet why had it been done? ‘What motive was there for concealment? And why, if apprehensive of danger, had the Indians waited tll they were in its vicinity? I carefully retraced my steps down-stream again. The whole proceeding was mysterious. I a doubfless, exposed myself while watching the canoe and its occupants, and thus betrayed to an enem our presence in their country. at would t from this I could not conjecture, and determined to make every thing known to the trapper. But then I felt somewhat fearful of this. He wonkd, doubt- less, be incensed at my thoughtlessness, whic paige compel him to leave a country offering suck n ucements to the trapper and fur-trader; and 7%, argued it was not certain that I had really been seer by the Indians in question, If they m tility, Biddon would be warned soon enough for ali ooses—and so I decided. to keep my own secret or the present. But the question which occupied my thoughts, al- most to the exclusion of every thing else, was the identity of the female m the canoe. What could bring a white maiden to these wild ions? What meant her a 2 actress in the canoe with two Indian warriors? What if she was the child which Biddon had referred to, as being captured upon the night of the massacre? This thought intensified the interes: I already felt in her. I believed she had seen me; and her silent look toward the shore had _ something more than curiosity in it. I imagined there was a mute, eloquent appeal in those dari eyes. I reached the tree, and, stooping upon my hands and knees, crawled within. The movement had well- nigh cost me my life. As my head entered I en- countered the a ned visage of Nat, and Biddon, with his knife drawn, just prepared to spring upon me. “You liked to got rubbed out that time!” he ex- claimed, replacing his weapon. ‘‘ What made you forgit the sign?” “Tt must have been because it did not occur to me,’’ I laughed; “I have had no occasion to use it, and forgot it altogether; but I will remember it, be assured, in future.” ** You’d better, for I was just going to shoot, too,” alee Nat; rising to his feet, and then seating him. self again. ‘You shoot!” repeated Biddon, contemptuously. “Your shooter ain’t loaded,” “T forgot that. I wonder if I couldn't load it, say?” he indignantly demanded, ‘* Yes, in course, if the reds waited fur yer.” Nat made no ee this, except that of instantly proveedns to lo 8 piece. As it was near noon, he meal was prepared—this time from the beaver’s body. - The hair was singed off froma piece, which was then cooked in the usual manner. 8, although wr palatable, was not equal to the tail of the ani. mal, the meat being more tough and oily. Shortly after, the trapper departed for the be) Nees of visiting his traps, and” setting new ones. eu alone with Nat I determined to impart to him my morning’s experience ‘*Nat, Ihave seen Indians,” IT remarked, in a quiet ° tone. ** You hain’t!” he exclaimed, starting up from his bed of skins with such suddenness as to break the remains of bis pine. “T have; and what is more, they have seen me.” ~ “T should think it was considerably more! What did you do? I didn’t hear you shoot. Why didn’t you tell Biddon? Why didn’t you—why, it seems to me you're very cool about it,” “There is no oceasion for excitement at all. Just ae quiet, and I will tell you how it all hap- pened.” And thereupon I related the particulars. Nat's wonder and apprehension were roused to the high- est pitch. Springing to his feet, he pulled his har violently aan forehead, and striding about a mo- ment, demanded; ‘Why didn’t you tell Bill? Like as not he'll be shot and scalped} before he gets back.” You are not ig So hope?” . “Oh not not a bit; but then you know it’s rather unpleasant to feel that those infernal Blackfeet are all about you, and waiting for a chance to shoot you Oeaas £ commenced” covheaily* “Nat,” I commenced, earnes . ; ou are not afraid of Indians, and pat son show ein every word, look, and action. Thereis no excuse for this. Isaw only two savages, and a girl, evidently a captive. They disa) suddenly, and were, rObADly, frightened ee niconien see nothing this to excuse the excitement and terror you have exhibited.” : “t wonder who that girl is?’’ - “Tam afraid you have to wonder 4 time.” “Ts she good looking?” asked my com in, SOrk ary. What makes you ask that question?” itated hos. b res. sted OE ag eee NEALE Eat re eS er SS
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s : : 4 ¥ FS GE ET ee SE Le ee Se ee te ate ee ee eee eee On pee te ts 44] Be “J deelare, if I don’* marry her just to spite Alminy, and make Bill Hawkins mad,” he exclaimed, At this point I could restrain my mirth no longer; but as Lindulged it, 1 was considerably surp to feel a slight twinge of jealousy at his words. “T am afraid you will meet with formidable ob- | Bill Biddon, Trapper. ters. Bhey try them tricks sometimes, but th t come up to. icatched a feller once from Fort Hall at mine, and the way I walked into him war a cau- tion. But this ar’ an Injin’s track.” “Do you suspect there could be a number in the vicinity?” “Ef there war I’d ‘ve heard of 'em afore. This is stacles, before you accomplish that; the most diffi- | some varmint sneakin’ round yer, and he’s got to be cult of which be to obtain an audience of the fair one herself.” ¢ ** Don’t sup » she’ll be very anxious to-see me; and I wouldn't care if lonly had my pipe and jack- knife to pass away the time with.” “TI think it would be as well not to mention this affair to Biddon.” “Why not?” “Iv can do no good, and he would be displeased at the thoughtlessness I have evidenced. I do not think there are savages —. in the vicinity to render us fearful of our safety. The canoe, I am disposed to —- belongs to some tribe quite distant from ere.’ * But what are they here for?” “T can only ia I oh Biddon has never seen Savages inthis particular section, and these may be returning from some journey to their tribe.” ‘Perhaps so, and may be not. These plagued In- jins sometimes live in one place and sometimes in another, you rare See it may be that a notion has | eads to come and live in these “Thereis reason in what you say, but, as I stated, if danger threatens, Biddon will detect its signs him- self in time.”’ “think he will, though I shall feel a little flus- tered every time he goes out, You remember when he was after the antelope, he walked right among o Injins, without knowing it till it was too late to stop.” “ He did, itis true, but how nicely he walked out again, I tell you, Nat, that fellow has nerve equal to any emergency. What man, when conscious of an overwhelming foe being concealed within a few feet of him, could have repressed every sign of trepida- tion or fear, as he did?” “Tt was a clever a Tallow,” “Biddon told me he felt a little nervous when he saw us start to come up, for, if we had reached him, it would have been allup with us, Such a man, I re- wee we scent danger soon enough, without the hel» of others.” just entered their rts ” * He will and I hope he'll find out who that white | . ig.?* “Nat, do you remember the account Biddon gave some time ago of a horrible massacre, upon the sandy island near where we errs one night?” ‘‘T don’t think there is much likelihood of my for- getting it.”’ ‘You will also recall the account of the dapture of a small child by the savages? Now, it has occurred . ne that this might be that child grown to woman- ood.” “*T know it is!” exclaimed Nat, joyously. “Tt is true there is much against it. It was a great distance from here, but, as these savages wander hundreds of miles at times, it is not improbable, upon that ground, Instances are only too common of per- sons spending their lives in capttvity amo ese Indian tribes. She isa captive, no doubt, and must long for restoration to her home and friends. “As I said, we will say nothing of this to Biddon, until he discovers signs of Indians himself, To-mor- row, we will go forth together, and spend the day in endeavoring to gain traces of the canoe and its in- mates; and if anything is discovered which is alarm- ce | hy will impart it all to him.” Nat agreed to, and shortly after wé heard three raps upon the outside of the tree—the tra per'’s signal of his presence. A moment after he made his appearance. He was considerably elated at his prospect for a goodly quantity of furs; had set a number of traps; was sure of half a dozen next day; had seen no signs of Indians, and was convinced there were none in the vicinity. None of ug passed out again that day, but remained indulgist in' our “™ and conversation as usual until a late hour. e next morning the trap roposed that I should accompany hin upon tis de ily round. I com- plied, while Nat remained, behind. The day was as warm and pleasant as the_preced- Eye one, and the forest and stream as delightful. Biddon paddled slowly up the unrippled surface, and in a short time reached the first trap; it had not been disturbed. Still hopeful, he anna: on to the second and third, and all the others. But there were no signs of beaver in any. ‘Shoot me, that’s quar’! he exclaimed, thought- fully, as’ he saw the last one. “I don’t understand it; | must git out and take a look round,”’ He sprung ashore, and minutely examined the und around. A few seconds up with a gleam of deep meaning, and said: ‘**Here’s the track of a thunderin’ moccasin, The | H eribate in thie enibcd vind. téaciniceti paddl e step in ® canoe, an g the Q, moved it carefully back again, He touched at each trap on the way. The footprints of a stranger were visible at each, : ““Thar’s been a beaver taken out of that one!’’ he remarked, as the last one was reached. ‘ It’s lu for the sneakin’ coward that I didn’t see him. He wouldn't ’sturbed any more gentlemen’s traps.” “Are you sure it’s an Indian who has been annoy- ol a) ng Wagh ! Don't you s'pogeI could tell a red's track 139”? from a grizzly ** But it might have been a white man—some hun- “A white man W *t be mean'nough to do sich 9 thing, ‘less he war some of these Hudson Bay fel- . ter or trapper?” I ced. He looked | rubbed out afore he makes more trouble.”’ ‘I -fear that will be a difficult and dangerous job,” ‘* Let me be for that.” Shortly after we reached our home, and running the canoe beneath the bushes, entered it, We were somewhat surprised to find Nat absent.. He return- ed, however, in a short time, and I saw at once by his nervous, flustered manner that something unusual had occurred. Biddon quesvioned him rather closely, as he suspected something, but Nat evaded his in- quiries, and would not admit that he had seen any- hing to excite alarm. “‘T’'m goin’ out, and when I come back I'll tell you what’s the matter with them traps,’’ said Biddon, departing. waited until he was beyond hearing, and then turning to my companion, asked: ‘What is the matter with you, Nat?” * Why?’ he asked, with a start. x ane you show plainly that something lias oc- curred,”’ 7 He remained silent a moment, then seizing his hat, jerked it off his head, and threw it spitefully down, where he gazed at it. a second, exclaiming: “Tm sick of this!”’ * Sick of what?”’ “Why, of being in this fix.” “T don’t understand you. Please explain what you mean.” **T should think you ought to know.” ** But I do not,”’ “Why, this wood is full of Injins; they’re behind pte tree and stump, and in every bush, and you a Jot step without pitching over Some painted heathen.’ ‘‘T’m afraid you are exaggerating,” I answered, suppressing a smile which Was struggling at the cor- ners of my mouth; * No, Lain’t. Iswow there are ten thousand Injins just waiting outside to pounce upon us.” * You are talking no and you know it,” “Well, there’s one Injin, for I seen him. Come now,” he affirmed, as if the matter was now settled beyond a question. “ Ah! that alters the case considerably, I shouldn't wonder at all if there is one or a half-dozen savages in the forest." ia (x shen see one savage hayen’t you a right to su ose there’s a hundred more about, I should like snow p? ‘Not always, Nat; I have seen three myself, yet I do not believe there is another one in the neighbor- hood. But I have not heard the particulars of t affair of which you have been speaking. Please let me hear them,’ ‘There isn’t much to tell, but there is enough to make — do a heap of thinking. You see, after you had left, I took a notion that I must have a morning ramble; and I thought, too, there might be such a oe as ye two run into danger and needing my help (I should like to know what you are laughing at). Taking my rifle, I was soon making gaye 5 as noiselessly as possible, in a direction from the river, “T hadn't gone more than a dozen yards before I commenced thinking about Injins, and came nigh by fy bene again, I wasn't afraid at all, you know, hut en it appeared to me I might bring you and ddon into trouble. However, I kept on. T had gone some distance further, when all of a sudden I heard a terrible whirr and rattle, and jumped clean off my feet. But it was only a big owl which I had stirred ws I was so provoked at the start he gave me that I ould have wrung his neck had I got_my hands re him. But I went on. Pretty soonI reached a little stream of water, and as I jumped across, wha» do we suppose I saw in the sand?” “Tam sure I can not tell.” “Nothing less than a big moccasin-track. And what was more, it hadn't been made there a week before! Istood and looked at it a good while, cogi- tating some wonderful things. At last I stooped and went to measuring it, Iwas going to rise, when IT heard a t ci by me. I jumped up so quick— to be , you know—that I floundered backward into the water, And may I be shot if there wasn’t big painted Injin standing not ten feet off. He didn’t say # word, but just stood and looked at me with them awful eyes of his, As soon as I could think, I raised my gun, took a quick aim, and drew the trig: er; but the infernal gun snapped. I pulled it n, ut it wouldn’t go, and just then I happened to thnk the thing wasn't loaded, All this time the painted imp stood grinning at me, without saying a word, except to kinder grunt. He had a big shining gun in one hand, and [ was dreadful afraid he weull shoot it. I told him not to stir, but to stand still till I got mine loaded, and he waited. But somehow or other, I s’pose I was in such a hurry that things wouldn't go right. Instead of putting the powder in the -barrel I crammed it in pe pocket, and ammed the ramrod into my shoe. I told the Injin to ve patience and I'd get it loaded in a minute. got it fixed somehow at last, and hauled it up to m shoulder, when, no Injin was there! I loo about me, and up into the trees, but he’d been spirited away somewhere. However, I made up my mind to shoot at the spot where he had stood, and I up_and blazed away. That_is I blazed away with- out the gun going off. I believe he spirited that too. ‘*‘Tet me examine it. Perhaps you made some blunder.” ‘*No, I’m sure I didn’t,” ? I took the rifle with a smile of should find something the matter with Sure enough the muzzle was crammed with papery and npon remo it, a pipe-stem, broken vodloe te rolled out, w there was not a grain of in the barrel. “T declare I forgot about the powder!” exclaimed Nat, opening his eyes in wonder, ‘But not about the bullet,” I laughed, pointlag to the fragments of his pipe. Nat picked up the fragments and egamined them carefully. ‘'Phat’s my pipe, sure; and I bad it in pow. I remember, hee started out, and pea stes | com- ing back, I didn’t tp itin the gun though.” es + it pass. Did you see no more of your Indian end?” ‘**No; he knew enough to keep out of way. I waited olane time for him, and at lat sutrded Rome t r cept an eye on every suspicious ject, ie an I just said, seen nothing At this point I gave free vent to my pent-up mirth Nat, much astonished, looked wonderingly at me, seemingly at a loss to understand the cause, 4 Be not pee more Laren te laugh a ere marked, reprovingly. ‘ 8a la ™m know that there are Indians-all about you, ay must laugh.” “Your adventure with the Indian, Nat, and the singular load in your rifle, appears to mea funny matter, and I trust you will on me if—” ‘Didn't I tell you I didn’t put it in there? It was the Injin’s work.’ And to this day Nat cannot. be made to. believe that he was instrumental in introducing the pipe into his gun. After a few more unimportant remarks, the eon- versation ceased. Nat’s adventure began to appear to me in a different form from that in which viewed it at first. I doubted not but that he was perfectly honest and truthful in.what he said, But why, when exposed to the will of the savage, did he escape unscathed? Why did the latter stand fear- less and harmless before ? And what meant these strange sigus, these ‘‘footprints,’’ which were becoming visible around us? tters were assum- ing a puzzling form. We were being environed ra Indians without any evidence of hostility upon th rt. What meant it? Surely there was a m deep and hidden for us to divine as yet. Suddenly Nat spoke, “Don't you remember the canoe? We were going to hunt for that to-day!’ “Ah, how did I forget that? But had we not bet- ter wait till Biddon returns?” ; ‘No; let us go at once. Hark! what’s that?” I held my breath, as the distant report of a rifle yeached our ears. The next instant came a sound, faint and far away yet clear and distinct—a horrid unearthly sound, as the ery of a being in mo agony! CHAPTER VI. STILL IN THE DARK—THE CANOE AGAIN, Fork a moment we stood paralyzed. Then our eyes sought each other with a look of fearful in- quiry. ‘Was that} Biddon’s voice?” I asked, in a faint . whisper. fe Vaion't know. There itis again.” And again came that wild, ee B shriek of such agony as made our blood curdle within us, ba iy pe areal ag —< to his aid,” aN c cal my and springing out. Na follow: Glosety Eis gun having been reloaded. The ery came from up the river, and toward it we camo, scrambl through the brush and umdergrowth two maddened animals, heed- less of what th might be, Several times we halted and li our own panti again we dash knew we had ascend listened. No one was to be seen. I turned toward Nat, standing behind me, and directly behind him & saw Biddon owly a monchings ** What are wou dene: here?” he asked, as he came ba " ‘Was not that your voice I just heard? “T rather reckon it wa’n’t. When you hear Bik Biddon baw! out in that way, jist let me know, will yer?” ‘ What was it?” I asked, greatly relieved. “That's more nor me can tell ay A shoot and skin hing "he a ed C) “there’s sunkthin’ else nor “What do you mean?” I asked, although I under well enough what he meant. “T's here once afore, as I told yer, and I never heerd sich goin’s on then. I’ve see’d the tracks of moccasins all about the traps, but can’t draw bead on the shadder of a red-skin.”’ 5 “You heard that horrid howl, didn’t you?” ‘*Heerd it! I should think I did.” ‘Was it you who shet?’’ “Yes; the way on it was this: I got on a purty plain trail and follered it up hereabguts, when cotched the glimpse of a Biackfoot’s goin’ down through the bushes there, and blazed — at him. I never missed a red in my life, and I +t miss him. Howsomever, he didn’t mind it, but es on and got away, and fist as he went out of stg that o yellcame, lt didn’t seem that he madeit, but it sounded like as though ‘twas all A a above aud under the ground, and around and me. “Anywhere near us?” asked Nat,
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& “% sounded jist under your feet about.” “Jerusha!”’ exclaimed the affrighted Nat, as he sprung nervously toward me. "tf must have been the Indian who made that yell,”’ said I. “In course; but things are beginnin’ to look quar- ish to me.” The same look of uneasiness neat passed over the trapper’s face; ‘and I saw that although he strove to hide it he was by no means at rest, Matters were beginning to put on an unusual aspect, and that was reason. Give the trapper of the north-west flesh and blood to contend against, let him know that oe supernatural is arra against him, and he @ See eee SSS j niking best, I related the given in the ey I saw at once*his uneasiness was creased. Ne y didn’t you shoot the red-skin?” he asked of ttwhy didn’t you shoot the red-skin?” added Nat, ey did—hit him fair and square as I ever hit any- * But didri't do any more good than I did.” Beadle’s* HalfDime Library. “No doubt about that. I’ve been thi that some of them helped off that fellow when I was lonad- ing my gun,” We mount as well go back yi said Biddon, “T’'m tired of huntin’ spirits, and I dunno but what we'd better move traps and leave this place to ’em.” * That's what I am in favor of—” Nat ees gee: for Biddon, with a slight “sh!” motioned us down, We sunk quickly aad silently to the earth, while he, in a crouching posi- tion, gazed steadily up-stream. “ What is it, Bill?” whispered Nat, “ There's a canoe comin’ down-stream!”’ : We said nothing; and Nat looked meaningly in the water, “Skin me, if there ain’t two reds and a squaw in it,” added Biddon, without changing his position, or removing his’ gaze. I could not restrain the singular agitation that came over me at this moment, Fearing te betray myself, I cautiously arose beside Biddon. “Let me take a look,”’ I bag Sw “Be keerful you ain’t seen,’’ he whispered, in turn, as he stepped back. As I looked, I saw, not more than two hundred yards distant, the canoe approaching, heading di- rectly toward us. For this reason, I could only see the foremost Indian, though I was positive another. together with the white captive, was in it. I but a moment, and then looked inquiringly at the oroen: He made no reply, but peered forth. “That ain't a squaw; it’s a white gal,” said he, looking round upon us with an astounded look. “Shall we rescue her?” I asked, 2, fs mY i! \) y Ap “THAT AIN'T A SQUAW, IT’S A WHITE GAL,” SAID BILL, LOOKING ROUND UPON US WITH AN ASTOUNDED LooK.—Page 8. * rhe: x the infarnal imp howl.” 44 I made mine grunt,” added Nat, triumph- ei Finere is no need of wonss T inte d, ‘Hach of you did yeur best, Natincluded. You, Bill, I be- hit your man and mortally wounded him. yell was of agony, though I can’t conceive how we came to mistake it for yours.. The dead or dying body of that Indian, I believe, is near at hand. See, what does that mean?” I asked, as I detected some red fluid dripping from the limb of a bush to the earth. The trapper stepped forward and looked at it. “ That's the blood of a Blackfoot, or I’m a skinned beaver!" he remarked, with a glow of relief. ey I'm convinced that’s Injin blood,” added Nat, ru bing, between the tip of his, finger and thumb. ‘The blood of a Biackfoot Injin, too—a man’s about thirt; AE de old. Probably a bre- _ ther to the one I “ Biddon, I believe, as I just said, that we will find the body of that savage, near at hand. Let us fol- Ww Jes’ what I’s going to do,” he replied, starting at once. Tt was easy to follow the trail, as every step me marked by blood, which many. places was p- from the bushes to the ground. It was fol- ed but a short distance, however, as it led ina Tits as Le’pooted.” said Biddon, turning round 4 as Is” ; on, turning round in ik fee aan tha oi as some er have’ helped him off,” “Pf she wants us to, in course.” “You going to shoot them?" asked Nat, anxiously. ‘Can't tell yif. Jest see that yer irons is ready, and we'll waif till they get out yer: Don't make no noise till I give the motion.” The trapper stole a yard or two infront of us, where he sunk eottty ons upon his face till only his head was visible. Nat fingered his gun nervously beside me, while I, not a whit less agitated, waited for the canoe to appear throngh the interstices of the bushes in front. In a moment [heard the faint pone of an Oar, and saw the trapper slowly raising his head and bringing his rifle in front of him. He raised his hand wara- ingly for us to remain quiet until the moment should arrive. I heard the click of my companion’s gun, as he raised the hammer, and admonished him to be careful. Suddenly I saw the red head-dress of one of the savages glitter through the bushes, and, before I could speak, came an explosion beside me like the crash of a thunderbolt, Almost simultaneously, the herevlean frame of the trapper bounded over me, and he exclaimed: “Who fired that? I’m shot,” Nat and I sprung to our feet awd dashed after him; but as I turned, though bewiklered with excitement, T looked eb the spot where the canoe was seen. It was gon?! We dashed up the bank, and in a moment reached Biddon. The excitement had completely gone, and he stood coolly feeling bis ear. “Was that your gun, Jersey?’ he asked, “No, sir; mine is still loaded ” “ How is Groany ?"* Nat bitted pid eesnmeined ste dock: eek: Laokek inte the barrel, He indeed it, grazdog the "s head so closely as bo wo his ear. f nder if that was m ? Sure, I beliere is bss remarked, still tuto the barrel, ‘Was it your gun?” re r, his krow peated tho trappe oe se a thunder-cloud, and laying his hand Penge e-handie, as he approached. Nat look- u ing with passion. ‘I didn't shoot it, Bill, by thunder!” he expostu- lated, The face of the tra ¢ % er, but the dark cloud fle mony agg t rinses the , . The trapper avowed he couki not stand “sich goin’s ov,”’ and should leave for some other quarters. Little sleep came to Nat that night. His adventure with the savage, and the more recent occurrence alarmed him. He had discovered that there were consequences to be feared from both sides. I was still unwilling to believe that there was any ewe Be the events given which would not be soun explained. It was evident our foes were around, and from some inexplicable cause, had pursued an up usual course toward us. We had all been exposed w their power, yet had escaped harmless. t was Ohgent or th of this? And, a all, what a oa ° tof the a rance and disappearance of the canoe at the different times mentioned? : These questidns prompted my anxious curiosity, and a desire to learn more of that mysteriou, pele whom I had now twice seen, I ridiculed the ideas o Biddon, and Nat strove hard to convince him that he was not afraid. Biddon ¢onsented to remain ur til more was learned, intimating, at the same time that it must be very soon. He visited the horses each day, and found them undisturbed, This, how- ever, only) added to his anxiety. Had thoy been ne he wonld have taken it as convincing proof isl there were Jona side Indians in the neighbor- ood, The next day, after the closing scene of the last chapter, Nat agreed to accompany me for the last time to the spot where we had seen the canoe, The trapper could not be ea Agen upon to £o, affirming that he should probably have his hands full at home. It required my utmost skill to succeed with Nat, as the borror hast plainly settled upon him, “It’s awful,” said he, as we started, “ this walling rizht into danger, but | want/fo sce that canoe ag’in, and especially that gal, and so I'll go.” “ and, I trust, behave yourself... You well know, Nat, you fired that shot which came so near ending Biddon’s life.” “Wonder if I did pull the trigser!"-he exclaimed, suddenly stopping and looking around at me. “You know you did, and had he known, it too it would have béen a sorry piece of business for you. rem temper of his is terrible, when itis ouce ex- cited.” “T remember cocking my gun and kind of pulling the trigger, but 1 didn’t-mean tc pull hard enougk to make it go off.” “T suppose not. I cannot conceive how Biddon
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ee ee” pes ad cor yore ‘those two savages wi ‘to be, are in the canoe, and no demonstration is himself to believe pet X90 @id not dis- r) {ft when the case was self-evident. But he is to belicve almost anything since he has Wo kept upon our way. Upon each of the occa- sions , as near as I could judge, it was about neon the canoe made its appearance; and as it was that thine now, we hurried forward, lest: the oppor- tunity ld pags. The opportunity, I say—for al- mys, edhe had Bppeared but twice as yet, I somehow or ‘was well satisfied we should see it again. “What are you Boing to do?” asked Nat. “%¥t wi depend upon what wesee, If simply the captive, as we judge her made, I think it best not to attempt a rescue. It is Lain supposition of ours that she is a captive, and we know not that she would thank us for interfering in ber case.” 5 In @ short time we reached the elevation already mentioned. Here we seated ourselves so as to re- main concealed from any stragglers in the vicinity, while we ourselves with a little care could detect the slightest er eae: As I stooped, my hand came contact with something cold, and upon looking at it, I saw it covered with dark, clotted Btood. I started, and wiped it on the s, but it sent a shudder through mé to reflect that it had once been the life-fluid of a human being. nh }”’ exclaimed Nat; ‘‘ain’t that awful?’ “Tt is disagreeable, to say the least.” * Just look at the blood on the grass, too, and all around. I believe Bill must have hit a half-dozen Injias, sure,” Mp S —a = = — Bill Biddon, Trapper. a words to the captive, without conveying it also to her captors.”’ r “I swow, it would be harder than I thought at irst.”" j During this conversation, which was carried on in a half-whisper, Nat was constantly parting the bushes and peering through them, while now and then I glanced expectantly up the stream; but noth- ing as yet had rewarded our watchfulness. Sudden- Iy't reflected that, as I had been twice defeated in observing the disappearance of the canoe, from the exact spot upon which we were now seated, we might make a better arrangement of ourselves, so as to insure this coveted knowledge to one of us at least. I mentioned this to Nat. “If one of us was on the t’other side, the thing would be certain, but that can’t be done very con- veniently, and we shall have to try something else.” ‘*Suppose you go down-stream about a hundred yards, near the bend yonder,” I proposed to Nat. “Guess I will,’’ he exclaimed, as he rose to go. “Wait a moment,” said I, detaining him, ‘ Let me admonish you to exercise no ordinary caution, Nat, for you have seen enough to convince you that your own safety depends upon it. Remember thata word or false movement, however slight, may de- feat our plans. Look out for danger to yourself, and not let your curiosity be the means of your destruc- tion. é very careful.” I know not what led me to thus warn him; but at the moment he arose to go, an unaccountable sense of jmpending danger came over me. It was not so much for myself as for him that I felt thus, He promised to heed my words and departed, = THERE, MOTIONLESS AS A STATUE, HER SLIGHT FORM WRAPPED IN A THICK MANTLE, STOOD “He must have wounded one terribly to make him bleed like this.” . “And if he bad been a flesh-and-blood Injin he would have never tramped in that manner. I tell ou, William Relmond, there is something more than Cenian about us. Ican feel it in my bones, and I’m of Biddpn’s opinion, that the sooner we get away from eet Pudge! Lace beginning to get alarmed.” : e! I see you are ng to get a ad. “Oh, 00; you are mistaken. I am not frightened at all. For Biddon's sake, bu more especially for ours, Iam anxious. If you are desirous of remain- hereabouts, and will take all the consequences, I will make no objections,” “Of course, if I run into danger of my own ac- cord, I expect that I alone will suffer the penalty. “Then we needn't say anything more about it; you know we pledged ourselves to remain true to each I won't desert you.” “That's well spoken, Nat. The minute I am sat- isfied that our lives are imperiled, I shall not be the means of prolonging that peril a moment. It is only this great desire to solve and understand the Bi ar occurrences that are transpiring around us, that leads me still to remain. I have determined that to~<lay we shall be satisfied.” As soon as he had disappeared, I cast another look up-stream, but still there were no signs of the ex- pected canoe, and a sudden apprehension that I should not see it again came over me. There was, in fact, as much reason not to expect it as to antici- pate its coming, and as I looked Up at the sun and saw that it was already beyond the hour, I was half- tempted to turn back. -While I was debating, I natu- rally looked up the river, and there, just rounding the bend where the canoe had first come into view be- fore--there it was coming, Quivering with agitation, I sunk upon the ground, and gave alow whistle as a signal to Nat. He returned it, as an evidence of his watchfulness, . I saw that from where Iwas seated, the view would be more obstructed when the canoe was nearest. Ac- cordingly, I << cautiously and quickly nearer the water's edge. This time, howéveér, I slightly varied my course, and-concealed myself ‘behind the trunk of a fallentree. This was within a yard of the water, and afforded complete concealment. I noticed the ie, ey rotten and apparently hollow. ere I lay, and intently listened and watched. A few moments and an ost inaudible ripple was heard, and the-canoe was opposite. I exercised ex- treme caution,and was fortunate enough to obtain a perfect view of each of the occupants. They were the same-+the dark, malignant faces of the savages, and the fair features of the captive, She sat in the stern, her hand resting gently upon a guiding-oar, and her gaze fixed upon the stream in front. The canoe floated with the current, and rota paddle was stirred, nor the least motion made by the beings be- fore me. The head-dress of the captive was, as men- aad porcupine-quilts, while the dark, waving masses of hale Bate low m perbs' Me Bien me My Shy their bos one considerably exhbanced; but the thought pnt upor me that if there were Bw experience, it was in pee as was now before me. Unconsciously I forgot myself as the cance waa gliding past, and before I was eware, it was hidden from view by intervening obstacles. I withdrew. hastily, intending to hurry further down where the view would be more complete, I had taken but a. step or two when Nut’s rifle was disch , and E heard distinctly the muffled sound of his v Wiki with agitation, I dashed to the spot where I ade ed him to be. The view of the river at this pomt was amet and I turned to look at the canoe. It had van- ished! I looked round for Nat, but he, too, was gone. I called him, and once thought I heard a faint answer. But it was not ny Aegan and I could not tell its direc- tion. Ireached the ground and beheld the tracks of others besides his own, I waited until near night, but Nathan Todd was never to return, CHAPTER VIL ALONE IN THE WILDERNESS. *'Wuere’s your friend?” There was apprehension in the question of the trapper, or he would not have called Nat, as he had never called him before. The question was asked, too, the instant I appeared. ““T cannot tell,” I answered, seating myself gloom. y. *“ Whar’d you leave him?” ‘*T cannot answer that, either. He went with me to watch the river, as you remember, Espying that canoe, he concealed himself a few yards away, in or- der to obtain a better view, Since then I have seen nothing of him.” “s en it pawns oy ’”” sounded like gun, although I amv not posi- tive that it really was.” . “{ heerd it an’ took it for him; and, shoot me, if 3 didn't know he'd got into some scrape.” “T fear he has, and the last one, too,” “My thoughts, ‘zactly. Luckfly you did not, too.’ “T came nearer than I wish to again, Biddon. I can tell you, that I am willing to leave this place aa ae a you wish, Let us leave to-morrow. Are you Ww sb : 1 go to-night,if you want to.” “No; it will be best to wait until daylight, “I have faint hopes that Nat may return.” “ Waugh! you'll never see him again, and ef we’re a yer another day, we'll never see each other n _ “I think he has been only captured by some lurk- ing enemy, from whom he may escape.’ “No, stv} I tell you he’s gone, andi peckoe as how i aye be gone too.” “Perhaps you are right, Biddon, although » shall be loth to leave the viciakty wheat ame i | of his fate,"
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J S Pau gatisfied, an’ you oughter be, Leastways, Tenia’ to-morrow, an’ you kin stay and play with those Blackfeet as long as you like. I've been up to gee the horses, dnd fixed things so as to start ag soon | as daylight. Any "jections?” * None at all.” * Then ’tis settled, and let’s snooze.”’ Bat it was by no means settled,. As I lay that night ruminating upon the scenes through which T had so recently puedes the pledge that I made with Nat came back to mé. I had promised to re- tnain by him as long as there was hope; to desert him now, would be a violation of that vow, and an unworthy act upon my part. For us both to leave him would probably seal his fate if alive. It was by no means certain that if lost, he was irrecoverably gone, and I resolved if the trapper should depart on e morrow that I would remain. In making this resolution, perhaps it was not the desire alone to benefit my companion that prosiased it, although I aver that that alone would have been gufficient, Unconsciously, almost, I found my thoughts wandering from Nat tor the being who had | beet the cause of this trouble. At most, I could ony speculate and conjecture with regard to ~~ and the same speculations and conjectures I lw made before, ndoubtedly she was a captive among a tribe of Indians, over whom she wielded a great intluence; and that she was the same maid re- ferred to by Biddon, seemed certain to me. I had mentioned this thought to him, in the hope of per- suading him to remain. He started somewhat as the unexpected suggestion, and, after a few mo- ments’ thought, adinitted the probability of such be- "6 the case. To my surprise I found I had completely defeated my own plans, ‘I kinder thought then, that little thing war suth- in’ more nor human, an’ ef it’s her, you see I’m purty sure now. No use talkin’, I shan’t stay here onger than time ’nough to start. gal, and ag’in it moughtn’t. Shoot me if it mought- at ” I said no more, for I saw it would be useless, When he had once determined upon a matter there tvas nochanging him, He was satisfied that ‘spirits invisible ” had encompassed him, and there was but one way of escaping them. He was now reposing beside me, oblivious to ex- ternal things; and as the night was far advanced, I lay down and slept. t owes early and caught a pene of Biddon as he departed, doubtless after the horses, in order to leave at once the place which had such terrors for nim. In the course of a half-hour he returned. “The horses are waitin’,”’ said he. TI arose and passed out, The three animals stood eutside, a short distance away, each saddled and prepared for travel. ‘ ; “Come, work lively, and fetch them skins out,” said Biddon. I assisted him until everything was in readiness for starting. “Jump on, and shoot me ef we won't soon be cl'ar | of this outlandish place.” *Biddon J am not going with you,” I said mildly. ** What?”’ he asked, ooking wonderingly at me, “T intend to remain here,’ “‘Ogh! Jump on; it’s time we started.” “T said I was going to remain here.” “Do you mean it, Jarsey?” he queried, bending such a fierce look upon me, “ Most certainly I do.” “Then all Bill Biddon’s got to say is, you're a fool.” I colored slightly at this, but made no reply. “What yer going to stay fur? Get shot and lose yer ha'r, I spose, j to 5 oh the reds.”’ “T am soxry, friend Biddon, that you feel thus, When Nathan Todd and I left the States for this country, we pledged eternal friendship to each other, and lam sure I should never feel at ease if I should leave him in this dire extremity. I am by no means satisfied that I can afford him no assistance, He has no claims upon you, and I should not expect u to remain, but as I said, 1am determined not to a this place untii I have obtained satisfactory in- formation of him.” = trapper remained silent a few minutes, then e. “T s’pose you mean right, Jarsey, but you're awful simple.. Yer’s as what hopes you'll find the other chap right side > fa squar’ with his ha’r on, but I don't ’spect your ha'r * be yer’s to-night. Howsum- ever, you're bound to stay, I see, so yer’s good luck. i ike to stay with you, but I ain’t backward to say 1 Biddon knocks under tis time.”’ He reached his hard, horny hand, and I took it. **Good-by Bill, I hope we shall meet again. We have not n long acquainted, but I trust long h to be friends.” “ And you'll remember as how old Bill Biddon did- My Gertaltty, coptninis, T know yeu gill pt,” ie y, ce ow you not,’ “Wal, good-by it is, then.” I was alone in the great wilderness of the North- ‘wost. After parting with Biddon, I remained stationary a time, meditating upon strange resolve that I upon, If looked at with the common-sense view that the honest trapper gave it, I was sensible it wasn aking less than a piece of recklessness upon my only could be excused by the motives » Whi oy actuated me, I felt some regret, certainly, at- with Biddon, for that er, pe a which bbed within his massive breast drawn me ard him, and I knew he had come to regard me a far diffe ent light than he did at first. However. 1 was hopeful, and could not persuade myself that @as never to see him again, Toward night the sky gave evidence of an approach- ‘ng storm, A strong wind arose, and a maienehoty, It might be that | Beadle’s Half-Dime Library. : desolate moaning, like the precursor of winter, could be heard in the forest. Darkness came on earlier | than usual, and, as I passed into the trapper’s home, the storm burst upon me. No one who has: not wit- nessed a storm in the wilderness can appreciate the awful grandeur. AsI cowered within the heart of the old forest king, its power was subdued to my ears; but enough reached them to give me an idea of the terrific spectacle without. The huge sides of the tree surrounding me rumbled and groaned as though it were yielding to the hurricane; the wind blew with such fury that at times it sounded as though wailing screams were rending the air above me; and the sharp splintering of the trees riven by the lightning rivaled the erash of the thun- derbolt itself. As the morning approached, the storm died away, and as I stepped forth, the sun was shining in unclouded splendor. Slinging my rifle over my shoulder, 1 wandered aimlessly forward, following the course of the stream for several hours. Becoming considerably wearied, I seated myself upon a fallen tree; but my mind was in sucha state of excitement that the desire to press | forward was irresistible, and I arose again. The river at this point was flowing east and west, | so that [looked to the southward. As I did so, I saw Biddon in the distance, riding leisurely away. He was miles distant, and as the petire in many parts was submerged, it. was out of the question to pursue with the hope of overtaking him, I contented my- self with watching him, until he disappeared. ~He appeared precisely the same as when Nat and I first caught sight of him; and it struck me as a rather curious coincidence that my first and last glimpses of him were similar. Soon he was a mere speck on the horizon, and presently disappeared altogether. The storm which had just ended was the usher of the cold season. A strong wind had arisen, and was blowing coldly through the forest. The changes in these regions are remarkably sudden; and by the middle of the afternoon needles of ice put out along the shores of the stream, I suffered much from this sudden and severe cold; and to make it worse, every- thing upon which I could lay hands was so water- soaked as to make it impossible to kindle a fire. I continued wandering aimlessly forward, until I descended a large valley, filled with- trees of enorm- ows growth. As I entered, I heard a crackling in the bushes above me, I looked carefully about, but could detect nothing. Creeping stealthily up the bank, came upon the cause of this-apprehension, There was a species of fruit called the ‘* buféglo. ber- | ry,” quite numerous here,g@nd in among them, seat- | ed on his haunches, and contentedly devouring them was a grizzly bear. I started as I took in his colossal form, and turned to make a hasty retreat; but curi- | osity held me to the spot. He was a huge beast; his massive form being enveloped in a coat of long, black, glossy hair, and his eyes small and glittering, ) His ng Oa raitied among the leaves, as he pulled | te bushes toward him,-and plucked the delicate t Allat once a mad desire to take this formidable ereature’s life Came upon me. I knew it was only the most skillful hunter who could prevail against him, and yet Idetermined to take the risk. he sat, his side was turned toward me, and I made a low whistle to attract his attention. He stopped chewing instantly, and turned his bead toward me | asif listening. I could see his two coal-black eyes glistening plainly, I was lying upon my face, with my rifle resting upon a stone in front. Raising the hammer, I took a deliberate, sure aim at one of his | eyes, and pulled the trigger. : | “How does that suit?” I asked, exultingly. To my surprise and terror, I saw him sitting apparently un- hurt, but looking about him, as if to ascertain from what direction the shot had come. The next in- stant he caught sight of the bluish wreath from my rifle, and, with a low growl] plunged directly toward e. That cumbrous body could roll over the und much faster than I suspected, and I found that, when alarmed, I could also travel rapidly. But in | | } | / | the tangled undergrowth I was no match for him, as he crushed through it without the least inconveni- | ence, I saw he would assuredly overtake me before I could go a hundred yards further; so throwing m | rifle to the ground, I drew my knife and waited his attack. As he came rolling forward, the biood from his wound trickled down, and daubed his mouth; his | red tongue lolied out, his mouth was wide open, and | his long and white teeth shore with terrible fercetty. | He was, indeed, a terrific animal, and I drew a deep breath as I felt that a struggle was close at hand: Suddenly, when a hundred feet distant, there came the report of another rifle, and the brute halted, and gazed about him, I-also cast a wondering look around to see who my new friend was. No one was in sight, yet Isawa faint curl of smoke rising from the bushes above me. The bear also discovered it and with another growl made towardit, He had evidently been struck, and his rage was turned in another direction. Hastily loading my rifle, I ran up the intending to follow and assist my unknown friend, but both he and the brute had disappeared, I stood anxiously listening for some guiding sound, and soon heard the report of a gun in the distance, eer silk a faint shout. Tearing through the undergrowth, I dashed hastily forward. The trail of the bear was very plain by the blood-marks upon t.e ground. Soon I reached the spot where a strug- gio had taken Dp oy The ground was torn up and cast about, and the blood was spattered for many feet around. Following further, I came wpon the he fled?) Who was he? I looked about to see him near at hand, but was On the ground were the marks of a rng boys it was evident my presérver was an Indian. fact sug- ested other questions. Had he been following mo? lse how came he to be present just at the instant needed? And what was his object? Jt couki not be that my life was sought, for, {f such were the » it had been really spared, as 1 bad been contin 6x- posed through the day; and in the occurrence narrated, he had preserved my Nfe at the imminent, risk of his own. Ait any rate, the affair was singular and wnae- countable, The Indian was probably gazing moon me this moment, and I looked furtively a , nalf-ex. pecting to see his glowing eyeballs in the thiek shrub- ary around, It was now wing late, and I cast about for some place in which to spend the night. The wind sti lew, and a fire was indispensable. I gathered sey- eral armfuls of twigs and branches, and pitched my camp upon the banks of a small stream, a tributary of the river referred to. Here, after the expense of an almost incredible amount of patience, I succeeded in starting a fire. The pangs of hunger now began to make themselves felt, as I had tasted no food the entire day. The grizzly lay but a short distance away, and I concluded that he should answer the de- mands of nature, As I drew my knife and started_toward him, a shadow glided from before me, and I saw a human form stealthily make off. I stopped suddenly and hesitated, but finally went on, cut a piece from the animal, and returned. Just before I reached the crackling fire, I saw a shadow flit before me and dig Cppene. lt was too distinct and plain to be a freak te) or somebody was following or watching. Whoever he might be, I determined that, upon the first oppor- tunity, he should have the contents of my gun for his temerity. The consciousness that some one was near at hand, watching, perhaps, every motion, lessened my appetite somewhat. However, after skeweling a good sized piece and roasting it, I made a hearty sup- per; and, as I produced my inseparable pipe, I think, had it not been for the instinctive presence? that invisible form, my enjoyment would have betn com- vlete, ; The pleasant warmth of the fire, the soothing ef- fect of the pipe, gradually threw a dreamy, half-in- consciousness over me, into which I sunk with wil- ling delight, As my listless eyes rested upon the glowing. embers, there came a strain of wonderful musie, like the faint tones of a distant wind-harp. I stirred not, but listened, fearing to move, lest the spell should be broken, Again came the wave of heavenly harmony, swelling to the most inspiring grandeur and then dying away into faint, fluctuating tremors, fainter and fainter, till the strained ear could just feel their waves. It.sounded in the air above me, Iknew there was nothing real in my ex: periences, yet I listened breathlessly for it again, The musie continued, I think, over an hour, Ce to this day, it seems as if I can still hear it. Suc music I have never heard before or since. As I sa, alone that dark, stormy night, in the wilderness « the North-west, hundreds of miles from civilization, it seemed there was a chord within me that respond- ed to the air-tones above. It appeared sometimes to sink until ithad envelo me in its wild, thrilling power, and then suddenly swept upward, until Iwas vained with intense listening. and with a long sigh of relief 1 awoke to full con- sciousness. 1 have heard others narrate experiences similar to mine, and I leave the explanation to the curious and investigating, convinced that I can offer none which will be satisfactory. > I replenished the fire, folded my blanket around me, and lay down to sleep. Tht night-wind was howling dismally through the forest, and the distant rush of the river made melancholy music, In a short time I fell into a deep sleep. I was aroused from this by feeling something work- ing at my blanket. I lay mytionless a moment to escertain the character cf the threatened danger. The next moment something struck me like the paw of an animal; and eager | a wolf had attacked me, I sprung to my feet, with a shout, threw oft my blanket, and drew my kuife, Instead of confronting wolves, I met the gaze of a half-dozen savages! For a moment I was com letely bewildered. “You go ‘long with us,’ upon my arm. iz CHAPTER VIII TRAPPING AMONG THE INDIANS, Arrer I had arisen to my feet, the captors con- tinued conversing in am unknown tongue. It per- plexed me to understand how one of them was able to address me in tolerable English. ‘I suppose he must have had intercourse with the traders and hunters and the forts and stations 0? the North-west, After a few minutes’ conversation, the Indians ap- came to a satisfactory conclusion; for the paren seated themselves around the fire, ordering me to do the same, and here they sat as grim an nt as statues, not a muscle moving, excepting an n- al wink of ‘the eyes at long intervals. I watched them, it seemed for an hour, shivering with cold all ~ while, although my captors had not deprived me of my bianket, ‘At last, as I looked up, I saw that day was break- ing. There was a faint light in the east, dead body of the brute, There was another bullet- | the approach of the sun. Shortly after, it | mark.in the head, and a ghastly wound in the throat | above the forest line, ligh up the interminable | from which an enormous quanticy of blood had | prairie and wilderness With its golden Boat The savages sprung to their feet, se: their weapons, ' poured, j~ But where was the author of this deed? VWhy had | and started away. imagination, and it was evident that something - At last it dicd away,. said one, laying his hand ae
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7) Uy) . More at some of the The line of march « Keep closs, and don’t run!” had edkireesed me at first. “Mo danger of my attempting it,’ I answered, fol- ait d almost cheerfully behind them. in truth it would have been the hight of folly to make an attempt to escape. Each of the savages wes a fiset runner, each possessed a leaded rifle, and the utmost limit that I possibly could have gained, as will be evident to the reader, was perhaps ten foet. No halt was made for breakfast, and during the -whole forenoou we tramped through the wilderness in a northerly direction, As I knew I had been in the extreme upper part of the great Nebraska Ter- ritory, I felt pretty certain that I was now in the Hudsen Bay Territory, Within the British line. But here my companions made a turn to the eastward, and We strangely enough, proceeded somth again, 50 that I was uncertain whetker I wa: Sow in the United States or not. The reason of th« detour on the part of the savages I never knew, and could only | eonjecture. I afterward imagined it was for the purpose of misleading and bewildering me in case I should ever attempt to leave them. When the sun was overhead, the Indians halted upon the banks of a small, flashing stream, and pre- ared their meal. A half-hour before halting, one of he Indians had dodged off into the forest. Some time after I heard the report of a rifle, and in a few mainutes he returned with a large ptarmigan in his hand. The feathers were plucked from this, and the body dressed much after the fashion of civilized com- munities. It was *then partially cooked over the blaze, and, despite the change of circumstances, I made as good and substantial a meal upon it as did any of my companions. , he méal finished, the savages squatted befofe the fire, drew forth their pipes, and commenced silently smoking, their eyes glittering through the vapor with suppressed flerceness, as ever and anon a side- long glance was bestowed upon me, One of the In- dians—he who spoke English—was examining, my revolver. He closed one eye, and peered wonder- ingly into the six little barrels; then he fingered about the hammer, fook off the cap, tasted it, and replaced it. (it may be remarked here that at the time. of my experience percussion caps were almost unknown is this region. As they were of compara- tively recent invention, few of the trappers consent- ed to use them until a long time after), I was ex- ting each moment to see the weapon discharge Pelt as it was fully charged, and was bandled awk- wardly. The Indian looked at it in ines and, at last gave it up.. He took a smell snuffing the Sempoweses, handed it to me. ‘* What is he?’ “A young gun,”’ I answered with a smile. AslItook the weapon I looked about me. There were five unsuspicious savages, and there were’ six messengers of death at my command, For an in- stant a wild resolve thrilled me; but it was for an instant. only. pea soul revolted at the wholesale sloaighter 1 should be compelled to inflict, and I looked at my interlocutor with a pleasant smile. “Does he shoot?” he queried, his dark eyes light- ing up with curiosity. ‘Of course. Would you like to see me fire it?” “Yah! shoot at him,” he answered, poiuting at the trunk of a large tree. 4 “What part of it?” * Hit him where you mind to,” “Oh, let’s have a mark,” I laughed, stepping for- ward and tearing off a small piece of the bark, so as to otfer a red spot. several inches in diameter, The other savages were now surveying my motions with interest, and with some degree of suspicion the for- midable looking little weapon in my hand, I saw there was an opportunity for making a good impres- gion, and I resuived to do it, I step baek a few paces, took a careful though apparently a careless aim, and fired the six barrels with tolerably good eifect. * ‘sist look at the mark,’ I remarked, rather stiffly. The Indian stepped forward and examined the holes, ali within an inch or two of the center. Then with his knife he pried out each bullet, and showed them to his companions... They grunted their satis- faction, or rather wonder, and turned the diminutive six-shooter over and over in their hands, totally un- able to comprehend how such a number of fatal shots could come almost simultaneously from it. I loaded and fired it a number of times, and my friend —he who spoke English—asked me to make him a present of it. I assented with the greatest pleasure, as I had no power to refuse, and volunteered to in- struct him iu its use, and all things considered, we were getting on quite intimate terms, This proceeding of mine was a stroke of policy to which I owe my life. My readiness to acquiesce in all their wishes convin them that I cherished no vindictiveness, and I am satisfied that, had I asked iny captors at this time to allow me to proceed un- molested upon my way, they would have done so. Put 1 was willing to tarry with them awhile, for rea- sons obvious to the reader, : We remained in this spot for over an hour, prac- ticing with the revolver. At the end of that time its new owner had made such progress a3 to be able to strike a good-tized tree a rod distant at nearly every shot. ‘Him nice thing!” he remarked, shoving it in his bel ti. “Very good in a close hug with a bear or foe,” I ed. mi ere was But one drawback to the savage’s pros- pects of pleasure. I had but a small quantity of caps, and of course there was no means of obtain- among his own kindred. He, however, sat- Rinwetf with the thought that he could obtain trading-posts in direction of it, and section. was again taken up, and con- Said the savage who | tinued until nightfall. Bill Biddon, Trapper. They traveled in Indian file, my dusky friend bringing up the rear, and myself directly in front of him. This plan was adopted, not through any fear of pursuit, as they were in their own country, but because caution and watchfulness | are habitual to the North American Indian. The sun had sunk beyond the western mountains, and the deep gloom of night was settling over the wilderness, when, as we reached the top o' saw for the first time the Indian village. ItJay ina sort of valley, and numbered sixty or seventy lodges, As seen in the dim twilight these looked singularly pic- turesque. I could see dark forms flitting about the lodges, and the low hum of their conversation was audible. Wewere descried, as our forms stood in relief against the sky, but no signals were given by either party. As we descended into the valley my heart began to fail me at what I feared my reception would be. Stories of the tortures undergone by captives came over = and I ventured to express my fears to my rrend, “What your name?” he asked. “ Will,” I replied. *“ Will, Stay here, and me come and fix things,. My name is Jim,’ said he, taking the name probably given him by the whites with whom he was ac- | quainted. The other savages seeing us halting stopped. also, and looked suspiciously. Jim (as I shall hereafter name him) said something in an unintelligible tongue aud they passed on. * Stay here, Will, and me fix things.” With this he disappeared, and I seated myself up- onthe ground to await his return. It struck meas rather, curious for him to give -a captive such a good opportunity to escape, but it pleased me with- = and it need not be told d made no attempt to make off. In a few minutes he returned, bearing in his arms several Indian garments, “Will, put him on, and me fix things,’’ said: he throwing them down beside me. I hastily donned them, understanding fully their use and intentions. “ Keep close, and don’t say notting to nobody,” he added, as they enveloped my person, He now turned his face toward the village, and we were soon wonding our way through it, We passed several savages who spoke to me, Jim, however, tak- ing the responsibility of replying. At last we reach- ed his lodge without my identity being discovered. This was at the extreme eastern end of the village, and, as we entered, I saw it was devoid of any per- sons except ourselves. Y°u sloep there, Wid,’’ said he, Pee to one corner, Where a buffalo-robe was visible by the dim light of a few smoldering embers. Thanking him for his ey, ofter, I lay down while he replenished the fire, seating himself by it, and commenced the never-ceasing pleasure of examining his revolver. Lying half asleep on the buffalo-robe, listless) gazing at the savage, his features all at once struc me. lhad seen them before, but.where I could not recollect, Let me see—ah! it was plain now. He was one of the occupants of the mysterious canoe! Ii soon became known throughout the village that a captive was among them, and the next morning the entrance of Jim's lodge was thronged with those anxious to geta peep at me, Knowing that this curi- osity must be gratified sooner or later, I stepped boldly forth, and mingled among them, in order to have the matter finished at once, No violence was offered me, although several pinched my arms rather severely, seemingly determined to be satisfied upon all my points, My Indian friend, Jim, was married, and in the course of the day, his squaw made her appearance, She was a middle-aged woman, and tolerably good- looking fora savage. Jim informed her that 1 was to be her slave, and thus it may be said I was estab- lished in winter-quarters. The heavy storm, referred to in the previous chap- ter, was the close of a warm season, and the fierce northern winter set in, Winter in the North-west is far different from that season in the Middle States. Tt is full six months in continuance, anc, such is the intense coldness for the greater part of the season, thatthe thermometer sinks to thirty and often forty degrees below zero. Two weeks after my capture, it seemed impcesible to prevent freezing to death in | the lodge, with a roaring fire a few feet off. Yet the Savages seemed scarcely to heed it. A few extra garments were added to their costume, and they llitted as incessantly through the village as ever. In the tribe it was. acknowledged that I was the property of Jim, and thus my lot was much more en- durable than otherwise, He was really agood-heart- ed Indian; and the course that I ever maintained to- ward him won his rd. However, he was hm f dog, like all of his male kindred, and it was imy 3i- ble to discover in him any of those tical attri- butes which are so general y conceded to the» North American Indian. In conversation with me, he dis- carded those extravagant highly-wrought figures of —— common to his kindred, and added P ace an awkward oath or two, and a phrase learned rom the Hudson Bay traders. The premiee part of the day he sat before his fire, smoking and gazin moodily into it, while his better half busied hersel about the apartment as willingly and contentedly as though she never dreamed of a different lot. I as- sisted her as much as lay within my power, and came at last to do all of the out-door work. I have always regarded my capture by this tribe of Indians as a fortunate circumstance. I cannot imagine how else I could have. maintained life through the unusually severe winter which followed, No mortal hand couid have saved me from from cold, while it would have been utterly im - ble to have procured: food, when the snow lay six aswell, I | ) | | | | | | | | | } : | { | n their | 11 feet upon the ground, and the rivers were sealed by great depths of ice. Although uent occasions presented themselves, I poate ps mee make no ef- ort to leave my captors until the s: had arrived, As mentioned, I had Sages well-defined suspicions that Jim was one of the savages who occupied the mysterious canoe, referred to in the encodes chap- ters. I was not positive of this, although, when I stood by his side and viewed his profile, he resem- blance seemed perfect. One great disappointment had alread was sure that I should learn something eit or of the mysterious captive. Jim, he answered with such apparent sincerity, that I was pretty well convinced he knew_ noth of either. In regard to the latter he laughed; but he knew nothing of either. Sometimes when I fel into a reverie, and suddenly awoke, I could see Jim litt his @os quickly from me, as though he had been en- deavoring to satisfy himself of my identity. ae questioned me artfully, and I told him all. At last resolved to put the question direct, * Jim, didn’t yow and another warrior, some moons ago, pass down the river at the south, with a white woman?”’ There was a perceptible start at this question, but he answered, promptly: “ Don't _ know nothing "bout 'em,”’ “Why, lam protiy sure that. I saw you,” He shook his head. There was nothing to be gained by further questioning, and I gave itup. But I wae satisfied he knew more of Nat and the captive than he was willing to tell—and I was not mistaken, Shortly after this. conversation, Jim told me that he and several of his tribe were in the employ of the Hudson Bay Fur Company, and traded numerous fw's with them every spring. Iasked him if he was not in the territory of the North-west Fur Company, He rontied that that made no difference; each tres- passed upon the other's grounds, and he had been engaged for both,” A few weeks subsequent to this, there camea storm which laid the snow gix feet deep, and Jim informed me that, in company with several others, he should roceed to set his traps for the winter’s work, and e willingly consented that I should accompany him. Preparations were accordingly made. tra garments were donned, a couple of traps taken by each, and, placing our snow-shoes upon our feet, we sallied forth, This was the first time Iever attempted to travel with snow-shoes, and, as may be supposed, I made awkward work of it, These were fully six feet in length, resembling a canoe somewhat in shape, and of extreme ig tness. The interior is filled with a gauzy net-work, which allows the light, sand-like snow to fall through without ng one’s progress. They are fastened loosély but se- curely to the feet, and when the suow is not dam ened by thaws, twenty miles can easily be made aday. Without these convenient things it would be next to impossible to travel during six months of the year in the fur-bearing regions. We proceeded westward some eight or ten miles before all of the traps were set, when, turning, we retraced our steps, Intending to visit them the fol- lowing night. ‘The trap used by the Indians of this section is much the same as the common ta oi of the States, being, however, much larger, an without the saw-like teeth of the latter. A long chain, witht a heavy stone attached, is fastened to the trap, and concealed beneath the snow, to pre- vent the animal making off with the whole concern, The trap is placed just beneath the surface of the come, I er of Nat, When I questioned snow, and bits of frozen fish are scattered around, which attract the half-starved foxes, lynxeés, vers, and wolves in the region, Having comple all ar- rangements, we retraced our steps, and reached the village pan as night was Sy! n, Nothing of note took place the next day, and, as the night came on, Jim informed me that they were oing to visit their traps to ascertain what luck they sad. As he made no objection, J again donned my snow-shoes and joined them. ‘There was but one sayage besides himself. The snow was crisp and fine, and the traveling comparatively easy. Jim dragged a small sled behind him, for the purpose of bringing baek anything found in the traps. It was a bright moonlight night, and as we jour- neyed through the forest, there were of snow almost as light as day. We the trees, as the snow-crust was britile around them, and once or twice crossed broad belts of snow, of tim- ber, which Jim informed me were the beds of rivers, As we traveled on, nothing broke the silence, exeept the muffled sliding of our shoes over the icy crust, or a single word from one of the savages, The first trap we reached had the jore-leg of a fox in “a ; looked at. Jim inquiringly, unable to undem stand it, “Ae gnawed him off and run away; look owt next time.” The fox had been caught by his fore-leg, and, find- ing himseif unable to get loose, had eaten off the im. prisoned limb and escaped on the others. In a month's time he would probably suffer no inconven. ience from it. In the next trap was found a red fox, whose fur bears but a trifling value, He was killed, placed upon the sled, thé trap reset, and we proceed. ed to the rest.. None of them had been y: ex * The Hudson Bay Company, established two hun- dred years ago, by Prince Rupert, divided its. terri- tory into four compartments—the Northern, includ- ing all the country of the Far North; the Southern, exten south to Lake Superior; the Montreal, in- cluding the country along the northern shore of the Gulf of St. Lawrence; and the Columbia De ment, comprehend all the country west the Rocky Mountains, inclu Oregon, in which, I be Heve, they still trade, — =
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1s + the last. In this was imprisoned a beautiful * fox, the ture of which nearly set the two ses in ecs s. The fur of this animal is more ~ uable than'that of any other caught by the trap- | pos one alone sometimes bringing as high as two | hundred dollars, It is so rarely captured, and suck a prize, when taken, that a hunter would be satisfied with one single animal during the whole season, Our two animals being secured upon our sled, and the traps carefully reset, we commenced our return | journey, The night was far advanced when we | reached the Indian village, As we entered the lodge, | Jim's squaw arose noiselessly and 4 eet the fire, While removing my snow-shoes, I remarked to Jim that my feet had felt for, the last half-hour as | though they were —— “Tet me see him,’ he asked, quickly, jerking off the thick moccasins which I had donned a few weeks baok. He looked at my feet a moment, and ex- claimed: ‘t Him froze up!" I was considerably startled at: this, and anxiously asked him if they were badly frozen. “Yaw, bub me fix ’em,” he answered, and com- menced immediately rubbing until I begged him to desist. He paid no heed to my entreaties, but con- tinued this treatment until he had restored com- slately the congealed circulation, and saved the use- 1 members, The savages had but poor fortune in trapping this winter, and there was considerable suffering. Tho Indians of the North-west rely solely upon what they are thus able to take for their food during the coll season, and, as there is generally plenty of game, they fare well. But now and then some un- accountable cause drives all the animals away, and eases of actual starvation have occurred. Jim told e that three winters before a case of cannibalism occurred in their tribe, and years before that, when a mere child, there came an appalling time. Half the families were obli to devour some of their members to support life until spring, and, for over a week, a miserable old bison supported tho whole tribe, Jim said he had more than once cooked his moccasins and eaten them. The tribe was driven to no such extremity as this while I was with them, and I saw no want myself, Jim was one of their’ best hunters, and he supplied his own lodge before that of others. Yet, there were others who were not so fortunate, and who were often compelled to endure the unger for days at atime, Whenfood was , ney gorged themselves nearly to bursting, and were the Tapptent of mortals, until the wants of nature again made (themselves felt. During my captivity, several things occurred to make me suspect that the mysterious captive refer- red to was in this village the whole time, and I was satisfied that Indian Jim knew more of Nat than he would impart to me. These imaginings filled me with moody misgivings, and I made a resolve that as £000 as spring came I would make my escape; and ¥ I could learn nothing of the two beings whose fate | was unknown to me, to depart for the States. The life I was leading was a wearisome, monotonous one, and in time would become unendurable, Spring was but a month or two distant, and in its approach I placed my fondest hopes. CHAPTER IX. THE BUFTALO-HUNT AND ITS CONSEQUENGES. AS stated in the last chapter, there was consider- able suffering on account of the seareity of food. The country to the north of Nebraska is the paradise of all s es of game in the summer months, but during the winter, the large animals proceed to the southward, and the deep snows prevent the capture of the smaller ones, except by meéans of traps. Spring, therefore, was looked forward to with eager expecta’ as the harbinger of enjoyment and the season of the chase. And itcame at last. First the sun grew hotter and Mazed more S . . ms vr bgp e gern and oe) and the dri of water couk eard caret the day A Mebt. Streams of melted snow poured into the rivers all along the barks, and the ice became weaker and weaker each moment, till, at last, with a terrific crashing and thundering, tho whole mass and a week after, the clear, blue running water only was scen. The thaw con- tinued, and with feelings of indescribable’ joy, we once more saw the face of the earth. Vegetation now commenced with munpelsing growth, and in an almost incredibly short space of time, bright, radi- ant, glorious spring held indisputable reign. Indians were departing and arriving every day with loads of fish, wild fowl, and game, and the village was a scone of unbridled feasting for many a day. One forenoon a savage announ that @ herd of buffaloes was quietly browsing a few miles to the southward, This produced corsnotion through the unt, Some twenty or thirty splendid Indian jes were mounted by as msny warriors, and to my inexpressible delight, Jim informed me that I ghould accompany them. A small, high-spirited an- frnal was given me. He was of a dark eolor, and his dappled haunches glistened in the sun like polished ebony. ‘About noon we sallied forth from the village, and ae a ee ord . restraining our ani- toa order the severe test at hand. ile riding along by the asin of Jim, the thought of escape—which not absent from me for the last six months—came with double force. Iwas now mounted upon a fleet, long-winded ani who could hold his own with ‘any horse bestrode by the Indians: what was to pre- vent escape? In the excitement of the chase, I | mic ht wander miles away, and be gone many hours | withowt exciting guspic.ca, gra: Dive and preparations were at once made for the na | rhs pon reserve their wind for Beadle’s HalfDime Library. had no thoughts of my attempting a flight, as I had pocnaret so many Opportunities to pass, and I felt here would be no suspiciwus eyes watching my mo- tions. The prairie stretcoaed hundreds of miles to the southward, and it seemed my animal longed to bound away upon ib. tive. An hour or so after, we came in sight of tha drove, cropping the new grass of the prairie. So numerous were they, that as we looked over them, it was impossible se their extent. Far away, until they touched the Aorizon, the ocean of dark, swarming bodies could be ¥ Our animals, now partook of the excitement of their masters. Archirg their necks, they scented the prey afar, and it was nearly impossible to re- strain their impatience. They snorted, plunged champed their bits, shook their heads, and seem determined to rush forward despite all restraint. We continued stealthily approaching in a body, preserving strict silence, order not to alarm the game. In this way, wé came Within a hundred yards, when a bul raised his alarmed gaze at us, and, giving a Icud snort, heaved his huge bod round and plunged madly into the herd, All too the alarm and went thundering away, making the earth tremble with their multitudinous tread. It was now vyholly useless to undertake to check our animals longer, and onsen 4 a wild yell, the Indians plu after them, The buffalo is not a runner, and, owin legs, ap to roll in his gait. ‘he Indians’ horses soon bring their riders alongside the bisons, and as soon as the shot is given, they shy off to avoid the infuriated animal’s horns. Before I was pre pared for it, my animal was abreast of a buffalo, and waiting for my shot. Here I committed a blun- der common to all beginners of the hunt. I fired while holding the reins in my hand, The conse- quence was, my bullet hit the animal somewhere about the head, got entangled in his mane, where it would drop out in a day or two. My horse immedi- ately vee to-one side, and allowed the buffalo to run until I could reload. I now saw my beast knew more of the chase than I did, and, dropping the rein upon his neck, alowed him full freedom. Cautiously, but; rapidly, he came alongside the Junging buffalo, and, taking more care, I sent a bul- et through the fore part of his body. It was his death-wound; and, seemingly conscious of his fate, and determined on revenge, he wheeled instantly round, drove his fore-feet into the ground, and drop- ped his head to ripup my charger. This movement was so sudden, and we were so close upon him, that my horse erzid neither check his speed nor turn to one side. But he avoided him for all that. Dropping upon his haunches with a snort, he made a terrific bound upward, and went clean over the buffalo. The maddened animal ¢ ‘ted’ this; and struck his horns upward, expecting still "to kill him, The in- stinet of the horse was too much, however; he, too, feared such a fate, and ips a high enough to. avoid the horns. As he came to the earth again, he plunged swiftly away, the enraged buffalo in full pursuit; but he easily kept clear from him, wheeling and dodging, and still remaining nigh isthe fo for me to give my snot. My gun was unloaded, and before [ could charge it, the buffalo had fallen to the earth and was fast dying. I now looked about me. Buffaloes were flying in every direction, and the forms of the savages could be seen darting to and fro among them, dealing de- struction at-every turn. The main herd was pourin simultaneously southward, while the scores that h been cut off were endeavoring to rejoin them, car- rying us along with them. In different parts of the prairie could be seen, the dark, motionless forms of the slain buffaloes, showing how successful the chase had been thus far. The sky, which in the yoening was fair and clear, was now becoming overcast, and two or three warn- ing rumbles of thunder were heard in the distance, Still, the savages were too excited to notice the inter- ruption, as Jong as a pc se buffalo remained. I saw Jim plunge his horse unhesitatingly into a crowd of adozen or so, when, as he commenced dealing de- struction, his horse became entangled, and he was compelled to make a flying leap over the hacks of the animals around him. is he accomplished success- fully, leaping from one baek to the other, until he was clear of them all. Suddenly, it occurred to me, while holding my fiery horse, that, if I meditated escape, it was high time to be about it. Turning to the southward, I could just desery the drove thundering away, a vast cloud of dust cireling above them. ‘The rein was drop upon the neck of my horse, and stretching out his head, he bounded away like the wind. He was a noble animal, and was now in his element. He enjoyed he chase as much as any of the savages} and, as mile after mile of prairie flew beneath his feet, he was enly warming inte the excitement. As Llooked back, I could just discern the Indians, like specks in the distance, still at their bloody work. We were now at no great distance from the herd, and my horse, catching sight of an old worried bull, somewhat in the rear, instantly made toward him. He was too jaded to hastew his pace, and I could see his fury was roused, I prepared to shoot him, as it would go to show my pursuers, if I should have any, that the excitement of the chase had alone carried me away. While yet some distance, he shied to one side, and turned his head warningly toward us, but without halting. The horse, however, finding that I still retained my shot, continued to bring me closer. At last the bison stru to a swifter run, and made desperate efforts to rejoin his companions. Jn an | countered my | aliuded. My fixed stare af her seemed to alarm her My captors, I suppose, | shoulder, was just ou the poiml of firing, waoen he | and she arose te pass out. ostant I was beside him, and helcing my gun is niy j 1 felt the time had come, and | reselved never to return “> the Indian villege a cap- | | to rise, fearing that I shoul to the shortaess:of his fore-, a tae NN AN STN Sa suddenly stood at bay, in precisely th, same manner as the other. My horse, instead of making a running leap this time, stopped instantaneously, planting his feet firmly in the ground, I was not prepared for this, and shot a dozen feet over his head, falling upon my face within a foot of the buffalo. The shock was terrible, and I was paveey injured. I endeavored be gored and trampled to death, but was unable, and heard the buffale scampering away. I placed my hand to my face, and found it covered with blood, and a strange be- wilderment was coming over me, I arose to my knees and gazed about me. The buffalo was plung- ing in the rear of his drove, while my horse was - loping wildly around me, his mane and bridle flying in the wind. Lheard the bursting of thunder over- head, and everything was growing dark and confus- ed. I tried again to rise, but failed. There was a thick darkness about me, a heavy hand pressing me to the earth, and all became chaotic. When consciousness returned, all was blank dark. ness. The rain was pouring down in torrents, and stunned and bleeding, I lay on the soaked, col4, spongy earth. Gradually the remembrance of rz misfortune came over me, I must have been 173 several hours upon the fara exposed to the vid, dismal storm. My clothes were saturated with tk. chilling rain, and my face and hands bedabbled w*%: mud and dirt. I struggled cee to my feet, and oudeavored to pierce the Stygian gloom around; but it was use- less; not the smallest point of the faihtest light eould be seen in any direction. Up, down, on every hand, the same solid wall of darkness enveloped me, Iwas many miles from the Indian village, and had lost its direction, At that moment, I would have given worlds to’ have been within Jim’s lodge. Flight, in my present condition, was not to be thought of, and I must soon receive succor or I should perish, I listened. In the dismal sweep of the rain some- thing like a footstep was h I called out, but there was no reply. Again the splash of a foot was heard, now from a different point. Soon I discoy- ered some animal was walking around me in a circle, Feeling round in the spongy prairie, 1 found my rifte, but it was useloas as a means of defense, as the charge was thoroughly wetted. I clubbed it, and waited for the attack. Still around and around the same step went. At first I fondly hoped it might be Jim, er one of his companions, but its footfall showed it to be a quadruped, and its approach waa@ toe osutious. Suddenly it halted and walked direct- ly toward me. I drew my rifle back, ready to brain it the minute it was within my reach. A faint neigh was heard—joy inexpressible) iu was my faithful horse. AsI ed to him, he approached, and low- ered his head for me to take his bridle. With a feel- ing of deep thankfulness and hope, I clambered into the saddia, and he bounded away, his unerring in stinct leading him straight towa: ome. The rain continued to beat, cold and dismal, and I felt already burning within me a hot, fiery fever. from the terrible suffering I had undergone, i should soon be prostraied, and without some kindly hand to nurse me, would inevitably perish. But the horse was certain; and after an hour or two, my heart leaped as we entered the silent Indian village. But one light was burning, and that was in the ledge of Jim, showing that he expected my return, I e instantly up to the entrance and dismounted, while my noble horse made off to look out for himself, Jim arose as he heard my approach, and, lifting his torch, advanced to meet me, “You had a long hunt—”’ He started back in horror at my appearance, Then, pte his light over his head, and peering at me, he asked: “What de matter? Been in fight?’ ““No; I was thrown from my horse, and lay sense- less upon the prairie until a short time ago. I feel bad, Jim, and fear I am severely injured,” said I, eg to seat myself. ‘* Wait minute; am hurt; let me fix 'em.” He clapped his hands, and instantly the bundle of blankets at the side of the lodge arose te an u right position, and his squaw walked forth. wounds were now dressed, my garments changed for dry ones, and with a hot cup of drink, I was swathed in blankets, and placed the fire. Jim said it was not far from morning, and if at that time I was worse, he would call in the Medicine Man, All night the fever burned and raged, and when morning came I was partially delirious. Jim exam- ined my pulse, shook his head mca ed and de- parted from the lodge, In a short time he returned, and with him came the Medicine Man, an Indian considerably advanced in years, and much loved and honored by his tribe. He, too, looked ve, and held a consultatiam in an undertone with Jim. From these signs, I knew I was dangerously, probably fa- tally, injured. And now came days of those strange, indescriba- ble visions that come over one in high fever, I was in all imaginable "places, and saw wonderful per- sons and scenes. ow and then, ‘there were mo- ments when reason flitted to its throne, At such times I saw the Medicine Man or Jim near me; and once, as I wonderingly opened my eyes, I saw the mysterious captive bending over me. I looked straight into her dark, liquid eyes, and reached forth and touched her garments, to satisfy myself that it was no freak of mind. My fixed stare her, and she looked in uiringly at the Medicme Man, He mumbled som , and she departed. About a week after my accident, as Isu ly learned, I awoke with my full reason: As I look- éd woaderingly about me, the first object that en- eyes wes the captive to whom I have
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4 “ Wait,’ said 1; “ pray do not leave me." “But you must not , ehe pve much ayi- tated, “‘ the Medicine Man will not allow it; you w ‘agure yourself,’’ You and the Medicine Man are both mistaken. i know I have been sick and delirious, but my mind was never clearer than it is this instant. I know a few moments’ conversation can not injure me. Let me beg you not to refuse, as I can not tell whether the opportunity will ever again be offered.” The young woman before, me was much embar- assed, and for a moment hesitated, seemingly in doubt between duty and inclination. Seizing the op- vortunity, I urged my wish with greater fervor than | Over. Finally she glanced furtively around as though | he expected to meet the twinkling orbs of the Medi- sine n, and then answered: *T cannot refuse wrong that I should thus disobe that were given for your good. wish to ask me?” ‘Am I out of danger?” What is it that you “Not yet. You have been crazy for a long time, | and more than once the Medicine Man has shaken his head in doubt when he looked upon you.” “Have you not watched by me nearly all the time f have been thus?” I gazed full in her face as I uttered this question, — she dropped her eyes in confusion, as she re- “T have agsisted the Medicine Man several times as he wished me to, and I have done no more to you than I would to any one in similar circumstances.”’ “No, sweet 4 I know you haven't,” I ex- #laimed, in admiration; ‘‘ your heart is open to any one, Who you are I know not, but I can see our race is similar to my own, and judge you to a willing prisoner among these Indians. Your image has long been before me, and I can never forget your fair, angelic face. What first was merely interest ra grown into a stronger passion for you, though ear—’’ I paused as she suddenly arose to her feet, and raised her hand in a warning manner. Before I eould ask the meaning of this, a shuffling step was heard, and the next minute the Medicine Man made his appearance. He gesticulated angrily toward her, and she passed quietly out of the lodge. lowed her with my eyes, and as she reached the pas- ye-way, she turned toward me with a look that told more than words, The Medicine Man evidently sus what I had been doir continually to himself. He forced a bitter, scalding drink to my lips, which. was soothing in its effects, and in a short time I — Now comes a long blank in my memory, After this incident, black night shut around my mind. There is a faint recollection of again seeing Jim and the Medicine Man bending over me, and the sweet pale face of the fair captive, and then again came utter oblivion, CHAPTER X. AN AWFUL AWAKENING, I HAVE now reached a point in my life over which I would fain — in silence. It is an experience so strange, so like some horrid vision of sleep, so dif- ferent from what usuall that, at this remote day, I cannot look u out a recoiling shudder of horror, I nitw it is true, and time can never clothe. the, memory of it in a different drees than that of unearthly terror. Bleak and bare it stands alone, in my check- ered lot, and the silver that now glistens prema- turely in my hair, came upon that night. I remember falling into a deep sleep, in which the fast form that the dark Medicine Man there was a confused mur- mur of voices, and then all became dark. Gradu- ally the darkness was igh by_ the ee folds of a dream—a dream which had little form or I fol- | ; 1 could see he was excited, and mumbled | falls to the lot of mee . th- ve some- | times persuaded myself that it was unreal; but no, | } ’ | and 4 nal Biddon, Trapper. gone through the same awful exp:rience, that filled my sovl at that discovery. Such. whirlwind of fire | as seethed through my bursting brain, sich a per- feet blaze of all the passions that can rack the human mind, I cannot portray with this feeble pen. For a moment I was frantic, and then suddenly a dreadful frightful calmness soothed my frame, Ay, I was buried alive! The savages had mistaken my trance-like stupor for death itself, and I had been hurried prematurely into the grave, Oh, the appalling discovery! To die while in the grave! ‘The thought was too horrible! I was not yet ready to give way to utter despair. I durst not pause a second for thought, for I knew it woudd sure- y come. I twisted and struggled with the strength | of fury. I could turn my body around, and use my | arms. pone request, and yet it seems | the injunctions | There was an open space before my face, as I had been buried in the sitting position. Had I lain back I could not have survived five minutes; as it was, my limks were immovably secured, and it was absolutely impossible for me to free myself. It was a long time, for such an experience, before I admitted this, but i was compelled to at last, Death by suffocation was rapidly approaching, and all that was left for me was to prepare for it. The small breath of air around me t already been breathed over and over again, and was becoming hot, steamy, and sickening. I was gagping and panting, but strove to collect my thoughts and keep them from wandering. I commenced praying. Suddenly a muffled sound reached my ear, as though something had fallen to the earth above. I listened—it was repeated directly over me, now rap- idly and regularly, Whatcould itmean? Wasit the sign of dissolution, or was it real? I listened, and | heard it & uaseg 9 and plainer above the wild throbs of my heart, Jt was real/ Something or somebody was di ging at the grave above! Could I now hold out till Iwas reached? The air had already become. thick and palpable, and strange fires were ting before my eyes. I held my breath till the distended blood-vessels seemed bursting, and then as I respired, the earth turned to soft mud around me; and then the long, labored inspiration was like drawing in some loathsome reptile. But what was above? Itcould not be a person, as Thad been buried by them, It must be a famished animal hastening to devour me. Yet this would be a relief, to gain one more draught of the sweet, cool | air of heaven before death. Now I heard the murmur of woices/ I shouted— there was & pause and stillness; and then the efforts were renewed with greater“vigor, I shouted again. I could feel the jarring trembling of the loose earth above, Some one was. endeavoring to rescue me from my awful fate, thank God! A moment after, and the cool air brushed my face; | & strong band seized my arm, and—oh, joy inex- theme, but the minutest iculars of which I re- | member to this day. ere were airy, waving res gliding silently about me, without voice, but th every variety of motion. They passed and re- sed before my face, ce ae A pausing and ex- nding their arms over my body, and sometimes standing and intently scanning my countenance. This continued a long time, not a word spoken either by myself or the forms, when suddenky the whole changed. The waving figures darted with the rapidity of lightning among each other, and the ge radiance became instantly as black as night. n this I could distinguish the rushing forms grow ing fainter and fainter, until at last all was black- ness again, Then camé a feeling as though the thick dark- ness in one yolume were erated crushing me be- neath it, and then a st feeling of being cramped and held forcibly still, en came a long, deep, in- drawn breath, and I awoke, ‘All was confused and inexplicable. Open my e as wide as I might, I could not pierce the S n gloom. I tried to move, but could n not stir a limb, and only the fingers of my hand. The air was steamy and hot, I was surrounded by something which chained I strove to - collect my thoughts, I remem the consulta- unconsciousness, and— tion in io ge the coming = nd . rese: wakening. first ression, afte this, "tha the house fallen over me : hands—they closed u ear’ reached forvars and licked the darkness. I tasted earth /—and then came the sudden, overwhelming know , Ban y C2 a scare "Gus unutterable horror, unless no soul con- ing pressible! I was on the earth again, For a moment I was bewildered and dizzy, and my ulse fluttered wildly, for I had been very nigh death. was recalled to full consciousness by the familiar voice of Jim. ‘Got in a tight fix, Will. Ole Jim jus’ in time.” _ I took the savage’s hand without a word, and sink- ing upon my knees, sent up a rig heartfelt prayer to the Merciful Being who had thus snatched me from the most appalling death. There was a bright moon shining, and,as I turned, I saw the dark Im dian’s eyes fixed wonderingly upon me. “Jim,” said I, solemnly, ‘may the God who has put it into your heart, reward you for this act. never, never can,” * “Jim didn’t do it,” he quickly interrupted. ‘‘ She did!” and disengaging his grasp, he darted out of feat I ‘turne ent looked behind me. There, standin appearing like a spirit’s, stood the fair, niysterious captive.* ora moment I was disposed to believe it was a | spirit before me, so still and motionless sho remained, Suddenly she turned to depart. Hold!" exclaimed I, springing forward and seiz- her arm; ‘Hold one moment, till I thank thee.” Thank the Great One above,” she replied, in a low, Sweet voice. , ‘ He it is who has preserved your As she uttered these words, she turned her dark eyes upward, and the moonlight s dovwa | upon her face, threw a vail like a halo of shagy ) around it. Then, | added: en, looking me calmly in the “You have ésca’ you are not the o face, an awful death, it is true; and one who has thus risen from the rave. When delirious, you spoke of home and of a there, and I know your presence is prayed them is now placed saddled and ages = m The chance of reachin within your reach, A forse fa and awaiting you, but a short distance away. will furnish you tion to take, and let me urge you to flee.” A ae bee: | Mg to go, but Ny nassooage pe 1 D aw rson, o you to live antl die with these savages?” ‘ The tears glistenea on-her face as she replied: “I have not a friend in the civilized world, My parents were murdered by the Indians, and myself and sister carried away in captivity, We were separated; I was taken eastward, and she westward beyond the Rocky Mountains. She cannot be living, for she was a dell- cate child, younger than me, incapable of beari one-half the suffering that must have been imposed * In the north-western part of mn isa tribe of Indians called Chenooks, who bury their sick as goon as the cine pronounces them beyond re- covery. This horrid practice is not confined to them alone, for other tribes in the North-west have been that youl has | known to inflict it upen their captives. motionless as a statue, ber ‘slight form | | wrapped in a thick mantle, her sweet, white face before my eyes was that of | with a rifle, You know the direc- | { 13 upon. ber. Enculd I ener soe the lond 2d, na e oulc a stranger am rangers. There are those here who love me, lil ome: and die among them.” “¥lee with me,” I impetuously urged not be a stranger. Hundreds will love you, and you can die with your own kindred. Jim, who is faithful to you, will furnish us both with a fleet horse, and we can elude all pursuit. I—” I paused, for her agitation had become nful. She was sinking to the earth, when I caught her, and leading her a short distance, seated myself beside her on a fallen tree. Then I gently pulled her head, over On my bosom, and looked down upon her fea- tures. Her gaudy head-dress was removed, and her white face lay among the mass of jetty hair like a jewel set in darkness. The dark, sweeping lashes, the faint roseate glow of each cheek, the delicate nose and lips, as the moonlight rested on them, were indescribably beautiful, 1ere was, too, a tumul- tuous throbbing that showed what a powerful emp- tion was agitating her. What was that emotion? Was it a response to my own ig passion? What else could itbe? Encour- aged by the certainty that the latter was the case, I urged my suit with redoubled ardor, I pietured the negtinese that would be hers in a civilized country, and the utter misery that must follow her life among the savages. She informed me that she was a cap- tive, not of the tribe near at hand, but of one further north, which had held her ever since the massacre of her parents; and that she had been told, in case she attempted to leave them, instant death would be the result, I saw she wished—she /onged to flee, and the objections she offered were only suggested by her *¥ou will fears. ‘* Hist!” she whispered. ‘There is some one.” Iturned. Jim stood beside me. 4 ‘** How soon goin’? he asked, anxiously turning to me, “Shortly; why do you ask?” ‘**Day comin’, and if you git cotched, no use!” he replied , Meaningly. ‘I was not aware, Jim, that I had enemies among ou.” * Yout hain’t; but—” The rest of the sentence was gesticulated, first pointing to me and the fair one beside me. ‘*Do you not understand?’ asked the latter. “There are several in the tribe who look ee me with envious eyes, and were they conscious that you knew of my existence, you would not be spared a moment. vis is what Jim means, and his words must be heeded.” : ao I travel afoot and alone?” J asked of the ndian, “There’s hoss what tossed you over buffler,” he answered, pointing to a clump of trees, “and I’ve brought your other things,” he added, handing me my knife, powder-horn, and rifle, *‘and Tl show through woods to perarie.”’ “Thank you; but I shall the v ay well enough,” “How soon you goin’ to start?’ he asked, turning to depart. “Tn less than an hour I shall bid you farewell.” “Jim,” interposed the fair captive, “bring my horse to the same spot. I think I shall also leave for home to-night, If inquiry is made, you can tell them this, and add that I shall probably be with them in a few days again, As I know the wilderness well, I will guide our friend here through it,” The savage looked cautiously at us both. If he was shrewd enough to suspect the truth, he wasalso polite enough not to show it, He replied that her wish should be gratified, and he disappeared as noiseless! as he came. It was now getting far in the night. The moon rode high in the heavens, and shed a full, perfect light down upon us. ‘**So you are going,’ said I, looking at her. ‘‘Lam going to attempt it,” she answered, firmly. ‘And through no action of mine shall you ever regret this step,”’ I added, warmly. Oh! L hope he will soon return, for I wish to go,"’ she said, as with a shiver of apprehension she look ed hurriedly about in the dark shadows of the for- est. ‘As yet we know not each other’s names,” said I, tly. - True," she answered, with a faint smile, ‘ Mine is Imogene Merment.”’ “And mine is William Relmond; but where can Jim x “ Ah! there he is now,”’she answered, with a dee flush, and the next minute the savage stood beside e«The animal's there; you'd better be off. Soon as you git away, I'll cover up hole, but I'm ateard there not need "you, as I know am some n’ about here.” “We will go at once,"’ said Imogene, gathering up her dress. I turned to give a last word to Jim, but he had vanished, * Let us horey, satd she, “for I have adread that we are Watched, and will not get away after all. | pray God that nothing may prevent us, now that we are started,” She almost ran, In a minute we reached the grove, Here we found two horses ready for 5 ee Without losing a moment, we mounted struck to the nortward,
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came and showed not help suspect- when the mo there was ho shrouded in obscurity. at once in regard to him, “Tmogene, although this is hardly the proper mo- ment, I cannot help questioning you about the fate of a friend.” “T know to whom you refer,” she answered, nickly. ‘‘Ihave heard him speak of you, but he does not know of your existence. He is a captive like yourself, save that he seems perfectly contented with his fate.” “Thank heaven! it seems indeed that a wonderful Providence is watching over all of us.” “T believe he will effect his escape, but it must be through your instrumentality, for I will not dare to show myself.” * Good, clever Nat, I will do anything for him,” I exclaimed, warmly. ‘‘He is a whole-souled fellow, for all he is so odd. Only to think, he has been so nigh me all this time! It is my place to assist him, “as far as lies in my power.” : “T have had several conversations with him, in all ay pe 9 greatly that kl H an e you were so reckless. He said he had long gurven to teach you to hunt with caution, but never succeeded, He also referred to a trapper named Bill Biddon, the one who did his best to save our family: when they fell victims to the sav- | and whom T would give all the world to see. e said he succeeded, after several years, in making quite a hunter of him,” “Oh, the rascal!” I laughed, “ just like him.” When day dawned we continued our journey for geveral hours. I learned in the course of the conver- | sation that Imogene Merment wandered gontinneliy among the tribes for many miles around, and as learhed in after years, her existence was known to pons as far opposite as Fort Churchill and Fort au. At noon I shota ptarmigan, which was cooked, and upon which we made a hearty dinner, Imogene as- cended a small eminence to ascertain whether an signs of pursuit were visible. None were discovered, but we hurried forward until nightfall, when we drew up for the night. We started a fire, and, at m - ent request, Imogene lay down beside it, while I t watch, Our horses were picketed at scarcely a a distant, and yet in the night they became so ter- rifled at the apronch of some animal, that they broke loose and fled, and we never saw them again, ke of you. He appeared to love you, | Beadle’s Half-Dime Libra | ry: cality. ous undertaking to cross, but it had to be done, As I was stepping in, a sound of distant voices struck me 1 paused and listened, ahd soon could y | hear the ioud, regular, swelling song gradually ap- | proaching nearer and nearer, and, at stated inter- | vals, the powerful chorus. of this song, at such a time, was indescribably stir- | ring and inspiriting; and, as it came nigher and Ah! there was the fate of Nat, my companion, still | I determined to question her | This was a great loss to us, but in the morning we | continued our journey on foot, and at noon ascended a high mountain, which was aspur of the Black Hills, lying between the Yellowstone and Missouri. The day. was a clear, beautiful one, and the fairest »caks Of the mountain, looming up against the blue, far-off horizon, formed a fine bac <ground to the glo- rious landscape spread out before us. Never s I forget the magnificent scene which was opened to our vision, To the north, the mighty wilderness | stretched in one unbroken tract as far as the eye could reach, while to the southward the gisening waters of the vast rivers could be seen, winding an ms 4 their tortuous channe]s in the forest again, t the tiny bee-hive-like lodges of the tribe we had left, seemingly Seeing scarcely a square rod of ground, ** Yonder,” said Imogene, pointing to the north- ward, “is the tribe which holds your friend. The village is two days’ journey, but the course is direct, and you cannot fail to find it, If you wish to search for him, I will semain here until youreturn. [should wish to approac« 40 nearer, as it would increase the danger to both of us, Your friend has hunted with the tribe in this mouajuin, and should you,be at a loss to find me again, ask him to guide you to the * Death Rock,’ and you will reach me by the most di- rect course.” I hesitated long before leaviag Im e, but my duty to Nat, and the hopeful view she took of ft. finally decided me, She was confident I should find him and be back in a few days, and urged me to de- lay nodonger. We re id to the ‘“* Death Rock,” where we,separated, Imogene was familiar with its peculiarities, and assured me that in its recesses she could find security from any animal foe.+ Before leay- ing her { saw that she was provided with food suf- ficient to last a week at least, and as she was fur- * nished with a rifle and ammunition, her situation was certainly as good as my own. CHAPTER XI. THE BRIGADE AND AN OLD FRIEND. Brppra ors Suey -by, I started to the north- ward. At night I ed a fire by which I slept in safety, and at an early hour resumed my journey. At noon I reached the banks of a river, so large that I was pretty certain it was the Yellowstone, and * The Crow Indians are a numerous tribe, subdi- vided into the Blackfeet, Sioux, Dacotah, Unk-pa- Two Kettle, and Minnie es several others. thas its separate v and chief, but all are en friendly relations with each other. *Death Rock is composed principally of a vast in which it said » whole tribe of once starvation rather than ¢ if | / nigher, and grew louder, its power increased. Hard ly satisfied of the nature of the approaching body, I withdrew a short distance and awaited its appear- ance, to view around a bend some hundred yards distant. It was followed by another and another, all keeping time to the words of their song: We are going with the tide, : Fone! yoho! Froe as mountain-winds we glide, Yoho! yoho! Oh! ours is a merry life, And full of danger, toil, and strife. {Then join your voices In the glad refrain, And let the mountains Echo back the strain. Yoho! yoho! As ovéra score of majestic voices joined in the chorus, the echoes were awakened for miles around. I watched them in wonder and admiration, Soon to ae surprise, they made toward the shore where i stood. As it was noon, they were probably putting in for their dinner. In a moment the boats were hauled wp on the bank, and, as rough and hardy a set of fellows as ever met, sprung upon the shore. A huge fire was soon blazing and roaring, an enor- mous quantity of meat steaming and spitting, and the men, exceping the cook, were lolling about on the grass, each one smoking and chatting, and mak- ing a scene of pleasant confusion and enjoyment, now stepped forth from my concealment. Sev- eral turned their faces toward me as I them, but no unusual amount of astonishment was mani- fested. I made my way to a group of three, and seated myself beside them. “Whar'd you come from?” asked a short, gruff- looking man. “No place in particular, at present,” I replied, pleasantly, **One of them Nor’west chaps, I s’pose!”’ “No, sir; [am no trapper, but a mere adventurer.” * Tell that to them as believes it,” he retorted, an- ily, kas is immaterial whether you believe it or not. If I were a member of the North-west Fur Company, I should not be ashamed or afraid to own it, as I be- lieve that isas respectable and honorable as the oné in whose service you are.” ** Boys, do you hear that!" called out the fellow, “'Yer’s one cf them sneaks—a Nor’wester, and he’s insulted us—”’ “T did no such thing.” “Do you hear that, I say?’ he called out, without regarding my words. ‘Hore’s a sneaking Nor’- wester cracking 4: his party afore us.” I was provoked but made no reply. His words at- Saws ed — oer cages test I was buried while still living, and ) hence was able to judg pretty correctly of my lo- | was dissolved, in one had battled their determination as long as i The river was broad, and it was quite a seri- | less to say I was deligh | unexpected mneselieg: Something in the sound’ | | spot left of you. Soon a large crnoe nearly full of men came | | ing. | | | | tracted attention, and, anxious to see the trouble, all gathered round. , ‘What's up?’ demanded a stumpy fellow, push- : ing his head in between the others, ‘A fight! a fight!” : “Make a ring for em.” ‘Blow me, if he don’t look like one 0’ them Nor’- | of us, nestling ina deep valley, could be seen | westers as sent Governor Semple out of the world.* | Go in, Tom!” “Tht maul him as soon as I get in fightin’ order,” ) said Tom—he of my first acquaintance. Matters were now getting serious. A collision be- tween the redoubtable Tom and myself seemed una- voidable. roused. me somewhat, and I made up my mind that I should withdraw nothing I had uttered, and bear none of his insolence, “What's the row?” demanded another; “Idon’t | understand it.” Why here’s a sneakin’ Nor’-wester,” answered Tom, * blowin’ "bout things, and I’ve made up my mind I won’t stand it;” and he continued his war- like preparations. , F That's right, Tom, go in and win,” added several voices. “Gentlemen,” said I, “all I ask is that you shall understand this matter, and show fair play—” “We'll do that, you!” interrupted several. “Tn the first face,” I continued, “I have said peingay , A ayomees he company in whose service you are. man, whom you call Tom, accased me of being a member of a rival company; I I was not, although I should not be such was the case, @ avers, however, I have insted you, and seems determined to avenge it, and I am per- fectly willing to gratify him. As Isaid, lam notin the service of any company, but am a mere adven- turer in these parts. With explanation Iam now ay for any proceeding he may wish.” ‘Smash me to nuthin’, ram me down and shoot me, if that ain’t Jarsey, or I’m a sinner!” exclaim- ed a familiar voice, and the same instant Bill Biddon stepped into the ring “Give us your paw, Jarsey.”’ He grasped my hand, while his scarred countenance *In an affray between two parties, belonging re- cee aor aig IN m) of the former, Mr, Semp wos shot by & member of the latter. This ha ened some years before the date of our story, for a long there was and frequent encoun- ters between the two before me. His impudent bravado and insults had | ‘broad smile. Ibis néed- beyond measure at this ‘ou here.” yer’s as what thinks Pill didn’t think so. “Why, Bill, I little thought to meet * And himself.” The others stood wondering. The oki trapper turn- ed, and seeing Tom standing with his fists stiil clinch- ed, shouted: “Ef you say another word to that gentleman, as is worth forty like you, there'll be only a grease- Do you hear?’ and he shook his ponderous fist beneath his nose. The fellow did hear, and with a muttered “It's cu- r’ous, I allow,’ donned his coat with the most per- fect meekness., “Now,” said Biddon, facing the rest, “if thar are any bout yer as wants to take up this fout, wh ee step forward and I'll settle the matter wi nim,” Is he a Nor’wester?” asked one, breaking the silence. “What you want to know fur?” “Cause if he is, he can’t paws this crowd without swallerin’ them words.” ‘““What words?” demanded Biddon, fiercely. ‘““What Tom said he said,” ‘Have I not explained—” I commenced. “Now jist hold on, Jarsey,” interrupted the trag el turning toward me with a backward wave 6 is hand. Now, hold on, you, fur ef you take baci anything you’ve said, shoot me, ef. 7 don’t lick you. “er hen turning to the others, he continued, “He ain’t _—— to take back nothin’ he’s said yer- abouts; and ef Tom Wilson thar don’t swaller what said, yer’s as will make him do it.” “T mought’ve be mistaken,” said the now fright | ened Tom, “That won't do.” ‘Wal, he didn’t say so,” he jerked out. “That'll answer. S’posen I say he is a Nor’ wester, how "bout that?’ demanded don, glaring about on the rest. There was no nse. All was still as death, “Wal, boys,’’ added Bill, returning to his nature, “he ain't a poh seg never k a skin in his born days; is a parf: potion and Ill make you ‘quainted with Bill Relmond, from the States, or, as I cail him, Jarsey, as fine a chap as ever tramped these parts.” The scene that followed was singular and amus- All crowded around- me, smiling and talkin and shaking hands; and the first hand I grasp was Tom son’s. “Hope you won’t mind what I said;” he spoke in a lower tone, ‘I orter been lammed for it, sure.” “Don’t refer to it,” I laughed; ‘tI suppose you were only anxious for a little amusement to pasg away time,” ‘““Chat’s it "zactly, Jarsey ; you're a trump,” “It’s my private opine,” called out Biddon, “ that this coen is goin’ inter these eatables, and ef you wants a bite, Jarsey, you’d better jine.’ All now crowded around the meal- menced devouring its contents with the avidity of wild animals. It consisted mainly of pemmican dried -buffalo flesh), a food much im vogue in the orth-west, with several biscuits and some scaldin tea. The meal finished, the men instantly produc their pipet which they indulged in for ten or fifteen minutes. e boats were then shoved into the water, the cooking utensils placed on board, and prepara- tions made for’ starting. \ “Whar you bound to?” asked Biddon, just as they were réady, “The Blackfeét-Sioux,” I answered, unable to re ress a smile. “The Blackfeet-Sioux?” he repeated, ‘“Yes; do you know thegr grounds?” “It's ‘bout twenty miles down-stream—that is, the village. We ca’e'late to camp thereabouts to-night. What, in the name of beavers, do you want with t, and com- | them?” “Tl explain matters when we have a better oppor- . tunity,” I answered. ‘Jump in with me, then, an’ I'll get Tom Wilson o rest me awhile, and we'll talk over matters and ngs.” I sprung into the boat, and the brigade was soon under way. The -Yellowstone, being broad and deep, and the current quite powerful, the work was light The song was taken up by the voyageur's, all joi in the chorus and Reeping time with the m dip of their paddles. seated myself in the stern, beside the steersman, whom I found to be a clerk in the Hudson Bay Company, and a gentleman. “How long will you remain with us, Mr. Rel- mond?” “Only until night.” “IT hoped you would accompany us to the settle ment. MS ace be glad to do so, but circumstances for- “Tt was quite fortunate,” he smiled, “that you and Biddon were acquainted. He is a noble fellow.” * Most assuredly he is. I accompanied him as a seeker of adventures, last summer from Indepen- dence, and we’ separated in the autumn, while in the wilderness. I was considerably surprised to find hing in your service. “He had a Seapete with one of his employer's agents, and gave & severe pe rain S He was reproved rather sharply, and left company in dis- gust, This was.duri the winter. Shortly after he visited Red river settlement, and volun his services, and they were gladly am “He has been, then, but a short with you?” REA few weeks—but long eno to let know value of his services, This le all ewing to him.”
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7 ree — — ~w— Se gg ag Se ~~ — “* How so?” “You are aware we are now in the United States gerritory. It is not often that we extend our work fato it, except in Oregon, which has lately fallen into | the hands of the Americans. Biddon has e ed a uantity of furs of the Indians in the ne hood, senting them for one of their fur companies, but after his dig brigade was dispatched for them. He will find quite @ pile of- money due him at York fort when he ar- rives there.” : ’ Further time was spent in conversation with the elerk, when I noticed a person had taken Biddon’s | ay at the oars. The trapper motioned me beside . Seating ourselves in the opposite end of the boat, he said: “ Now, we'll have a talk, Jarsey, ogh! how in the name of human natur’ you come in parts? How war it, Jarsey?” ; “You must remember, Biddon, I have been a pris- oner for the last six months,’ and thereupon I told my story. ** Did you never hear nothin’ of Greeny?" ; “Yes: a rumor reached me that he was living with a tribe of Indians to the east of us.”’ “Altogether onpossible,” answered the trapper, with a shake of his head. “ Why is it impossible?” “He's had his ha’r raised, sure, and never see’d the next day arter we see’d the last on him.” “Tam more hopeful than you are. Recollect, Z have been a captive, and am now here without bodily rm ” “Te first thing to be knowed,”’ said arash yr ) ese “Tt’s qua’r, I allow, how you come out as you did. The reds in them parts are SRENpOEREEOUS, and if it hadn't been for that Jim, and that gal, you’d ‘a’ gone under, sure. I's tuck once by them same chaps. Me an' Snapper Jack was sot on one dark night in an awful snow-storm by a hundred on ’em. ey blaz- ed right into us, and Jack rolled over with a pound of lead in him, and never said aword. I's pany well riddled in my lower story, but I got off with my ha’r, while Jack never knew who tuk his. They ca’e’lated a toastin’ you up brown, and would ef it wa’n’t fur at gy ”” The brigade proceeded regularly and rapidly down the Yellowstone, until the sun sinking in the west, warned them that night was at hand. The steers- man informed me they should not be able to reach the Indian village that night, but would early the next day. Just as the shadows were blending with the darkness on the river banks, the brigade ran in to shore for the night’s encampment, A dense forest on either side of us rende our situation gloomy; but this was soon dispelled by the jolly soyageurs, Fuel was collected, and three fires crack- led and blazed cheerily around ‘us. The mén passing to and fro, chatting and joking, the confusion of pre- parations for supper, made a scene well calculated to dispel all gloom, All gathered around the heart evening ine. These hardy fellows, after the labori- ous day’s work, their appetites sharpened, “ Ate like horses, when you hear them eat.” The meal finished, the indispensable pipes were in requisition, The brigade included men in it who had trapped and hunted from the shores of the frozen sea to the plains of the Kansas, and from Labrador to the mouth of the Columbia, beyond the Rocky Moun- tains. They had encountered every imaginable foe; the intense cold and the polar bear of the North, and the innumerable hordes of sayages of the more temperate regions; and now they recounted their | reminiscences, and speculated upon the fate still in store forthem. The hours passed rapidly, and, ere I was aware, the voyageurs were gathering their blankete around them for the night’s rest. a “@ozae, bundle up, Jarsey,” said Biddon, ‘for thar'll be no time to snooze in the daylight.”’ The men were stretched at every point around the fire, their feet being toward it, their heads radiating outward, so that the three groups resembled the same number of immense wheels. f places were occupied, I lay a little beyond the circle, within‘a foot or two of Biddon. The fires now smol- dered, and the Ig pt Pin ee again settled over wood and river, Not ng disturbed the deep silence gave the faint flow of the Yellowstone, or the dull noise of an ember as it broke apart, and now and then the distant wail of some wild animal. I soon joined the rest in the land of dreams. The first apprisal [had of the approach of day were the loud eries; ‘‘Leve! leve! leve!’’* uttered by nu- merous voices. Starting up, I saw the voyageurs all astir, makin ready to embark. The boats were launched, an r beinz too early for breakfast, the men sprung in an teized the oars. ¥ ‘* We halt for breakfast,” said the steersman, “at tho Indian village, which I understand is your destin- git th inspiri ith the same ring 80: men bent to their oars, and the boats shot rapidly through the foaming water. In the course of an hour or more the brigade put in for breakfast, and the same bustling scene t had taken place the ht befere was re-6 ain place chosen was a bread, open plot of grass, reaching down to the water's “edge of, extending of previous days, the some hurrdred feet back to the of the forest. No of Indians were seen, and I was somewhat to know how it was known they were in the vicinity. The clerk explained to me that Biddon had described the halting t and the distance so accu- rately, that there could be no mistake, and the sav- make their a ce. s would soomely spoken, when @ movement was ee Avouse and get up bor- | pute he offered them to us, and this | Bill Biddon, Trapper. heard in the forest, and several Indians made their appearance. They seemed to understand the mean- ing of the brigade; for, directly behind them came numbers of others bearing loads of peltries—the furs of beayers, foxes, badgers, lynxes, martens, otters, and wolverines. A barter at once commenced, and in less than half an hour the whole array was deposited in the boats, and the Indians were proudly parading in the gaudy trinkets and dreseés which had just fallen to their lot. ‘* Where is their village?”’ I asked of Biddon, Mo. mile or so back in the woods; you can’t miss it, ’ ‘*T can remain here without danger, can T not?” “Yas, I guess so—hold on, I'll fix it for you,” With this he strode rapidly toward a man who ap- peared to be the chief, and commenced a conversa- tion. He understood the Sioux tongue well enough to hold quite an intelligible conversation. The talk | lasted but a moment, when he returned. pee ee a ee eee ee ee eee * You needn't be skeerish,” said he; “I’ve made it allright. I told that old chap you wanted to take a look at the country hereabouts, to skeer up some furs for us ag’in. He was a little s’pishus at fust, shoot me if he warn’t! and he'‘axed ef you wanted to run off with that gal o’ theirs, cause. ef you war, you'd better leave yer ha’r behind you, There's been two or three round these parts after her, and he won't stand it no longer. You've got to be mighty shy, Jarsey, I kin tell yer; but I hope you'll git her fur all that, ogh!” ‘*T am grateful to you for this kindness, Biddon—”’ ‘‘Never mind ‘bout that; come to the pint ef you've got any thing to say.” ‘Thad nothing except to express my thanks, which you seem averse to receiving.” “Tt does go ag’in’ my stummick, I allow, Jarsey; when you come the squaw over me, I can’t stand it. Yer’s as likes to talk fair and squar’ and leave the rest. Shoot me ef I doesn’t!” me | suppose the time has come for us to separate, C then, Biddon?”’ “Leastways it’s close at hand, Think you’d bet- ter go we to Selkirk settlement with us; don’t s’pose you WF ; think you're a fool, shoot me ef I don't, ogh!” “Tt Seems our separation is to be something like it was before,” Ilaughed. ‘I believe you had a small opinion of my abilities at that time.” ‘Wal, yer’s as hopes you'll come out right side up this time. In course I'li have a glimpse of that ugly face of your’nag’in. In course.” *T don’t know about that. As you have gone into the service of the Hudson Bay Company, your sphere of action will be far removed from mine, and it will be an occurrence which I cannot imagine at this time that will bring us together again.” “That ain’t so sartin,”’ said the trapper, confidential tone. “I rather opine I'll be down in In- dependence this fall, and ef these fellows ca’e’lates on keepin’ me around, they've gotto step round ’em- selves. Shoot me if they hain't, ogh!” “T hope you will not spend your lie in the dreary ' | | in a low, | region north of this, for it will indeed be a dreary, | lonely life for you.” “Wal, you see; Jarsey,” he continued, with a shade of feeling, “it don’t make much difference whar I traps. Yer’s as s’pects to go under somewhar in the mountains, and leave my top-knot fur the buz- zards and reds, and it mought as well be in one part as t’other of this country.’ “Fudge, Biddon, don’t talk that way. Why, I am sure I shall see you settled down in the States, with a wife and a dozen children—"’ Tpaused as I noticed the trapper’s face. Some strange emotion was gaining the mastery over him; but he conquered it in a minute, : Never talk that way ag’in, Jarsey; I can’t stand “ Pardon me; you will soon be under way,” I spoke, wishing to painful to him. swered: wait. What yer you ‘mong the SY? **T have told you to seek out Nat Todd. Ihave given you an account of my meeting and partial flight with Imogene, the captive, who has told me of his whereabouts. She is now waiting at Death Rock for me, and is as confi- dent as lam that I shall bring Nat with me. These Indians, believing Imogene to be with the other tribe, will not suspect her flight unless a runner ar- rives here and acquaints them with it; butI have little fear of that, as [have no expectation of remaén- ing any length of time.” * Wal, as that little gal has seed Nat, of course he’s kickin’. Bless her soul! I'd like to see her sweet face, but Is’pose the brigade can’t spare me just now. Jarsey, lve my s’picions that that other sperit is some- where out tow Oregon, ‘mong a tribe of red-slsins, I’ve had my pisos say, but Ill say nothin’ more now ‘cept to kind of hint I may take a tramp out in them parts some day to see ef thar be signs of her.” “I sincerely hope that such may be the case, al- though I cannot be as sa ne as youare, Should you rescue her, the debt of gratitude—” “There! that'll do, ogh!”? interrupted Biddon, im- ratively. “Such things go ag’in my stummick, and don’t want to hear'em, As you’se on the track of Nat, go, fur he 3 be somew t, in spite of the fears I have that he isn’t, arter all.” “Rest assured I shall leave no stone unturned, I shall seek him at once.” * And when you finds him, tell him eld Bill Biddon is about, and ready to hunt aeveqee Ae him any time, ef he don’t. git behind mew shootin’ time comes. Ogh! ogh!”" aad the trapper enjoyed his Biddon, that my sole purpose is | 16 ee ee eee qoke merrily. He stopped suddenly and looked af he brigade. “Wal, J , talkin’ time’s gittin’ mighty short, I'd like to longer, but can't do ft this time, one we'll have a time down in the States ‘fore ong.”’ “T sincerely trust we shall,” I answered, unwilling to turn the hopeful picture which he was drawing for himself. ** And we'll have Nat ‘long with us,” he added. “Of course, for I am sure he would not willingly miss an opportunity of seeing his old friend again, Of course, Biddon, we shall meet, if] not in thig world, I hope in the next.” “P’raps so, though I can’t tell till we gits Don’t know much ‘bout them matters, ogh!” At this moment the voice of the steersman was heard, ordering the men to their places. Biddon turned, took a step, then halted and faced me, “Good-by, Jarsey.”’ He extended his hand, but ere I could take it If was hastily withdrawn. He mumbled something, dashed his hand across his face, and strode rapidly toward the boat, Se Good-by, Biddon. God bless you!” I called after im. The toyageurs seized their oars, and in a few mo ments they were in the stream, their same chee song echoing.as loudly and as joyously as before, stood upon the bank, watching them as the current. bore them onward, In a few moments they reached a knoll in the river—Biddon made a signal to me, and the next minute they had vanished. As the oe of the voyageurs grew fainter and fainter, until it died away in the distance, I awoke from the mournful reverie into which I had fallen, and turned to the work before me. There was a dozen Indians around, all busy with their new pos- sessions, Some were perening pom sly in their new blankets, some examining their glittering knives, and others wrenching off fuls from huge twists of tobacco, and all evidently in the highest spirits. The chief had been presented with a fina, 0lished rifle, and he was standing apart, trying ite lock, and “drawing bead,” on erent objects im the distance. I waited till he appeared satisfled, and then ap proached and made a complimentary remark; I saw at once it was not comprehended, and there was nos proper a savage who could a word of Eng~ ish in the trfbe. However, as they spoke the same tongue as the tribe in which I spent my captivity, my situation was not as bad as it might have ety In course of half an hour, the chief started toward his village, the others sauntering along behind him, and myself at his side. Hie sifle was now thrown over his shoulder, and he seemed to have lost all im terest in it as he walked forward, his dark eyes bent; upon the ground, A few minutes’ walk through the forest brought us to the Indian village. It was soe similar to the one before described, that it needs na mention here. The Blackfeet Sioux are one of the many divisions of the Dacotah or Sloux tribe, whose hunting-grounds it mou | include the Receker neee of the vast territory of Ne~ 8 from the aHusion which had been 80 | He turned, and loking at the bri- | | gade, whi cing ions to start, an- | Nagererg™ 1 tal gade ch was making preparations art, an braska, ‘These sub-divisions of this numerous people are tribes within themselves. ngs a speaking the same tongue, they are separate and literally in dependent of each other. h has its village and chief, whose authority is absolute. Like all North American Indians, their life is a migratory one; and the traveler who to-day finds them located on the Yellowstone or little Missouri, may a year after, find | them as far westward as the Great Falls of the Mis- souri. My advent among the savages excited no unusual attention, as they are often visited by traders and hunters. The chief took me to his'own lodge, where all the attention I could wish was given, I was glad- ly surprised to find upon the next day, that there was & half-breed among them who could speak the English tongue. His acquaintance I soon made, He was a middle-aged man, who had spent most of his | life in trapping, sometimes as far northward as the “Yas; the boys are near ready, and they won't | oin’ to do, Jarsey, when we leave | Saskatchewan, and who often acted as interpreter for his tribe. He possessed the daring hardihood of | the French trapper, and the low ferocious cunning of the savage. e had ever considered this tribe as. his people, having a squaw and several children, From this half-breed I learned that the flight of Imogene was not yet discovered, and that the tribe which held Nat was about a dozen miles to the east- ward, linformed the chief, through the interpreter, that I should make several days’ ramble through the: woods, in order to get a better idea of the face of the country and of its resources. He seemed to believe I really was an agent of one of the fer compan and offered me an escort. I declined, however, a the next morning started on foot in the direction ot the tribe alluded to, CHAPTER XT. 1 incotion. neeate tide. oak toward th TOOK & m near ue eas Black Hills. Near the middle of the day I reached. the shore of a lake. It was a small, beautiful sheot f a 7 La rong aot unruffied by ms single e, and Is a long time gazing upon its placid. Jaa The blue outitne of the o =! to - sengee — —_ Fee se an ' the green face a ti rotruded from the surface, adding greatly to the achanteqtecitan of scene. As I stood looking dreamily out u this lake, eyes upon a small speck, discornibie fae toward the other side. It was too small,and dark to be an island, and, furthermore, I fancied it was moving. A moment more me that it was a canoe crossing the lake nearly to the upes which I was standing. S#o small and was &
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16 that for a long time I was tempted to believe it was nothing but a bird floating upon thesurface: but the flashing of the oars in the sunshine showed its true pature, and I awaited anxiously its approach, On it came, slowly and steadily, its form gradually increasing as it approached, until I could discover the outlines of a single man. It struck me as a little singular that the Indian should approach so unhesi- tatingly a stranger, and I was upon the point of con- ecealing myself; but, knowing that Imust have been seen, and that such a es She would only awaken guspicion, f remained boldly in view, A few minutes later and the canoe grated upon the sand a few yards from me; and, daubed in, all the glittering paraphernalia of savage war-paint and plumes, no less a person than Nathan Todd stepped ashore and approached me. I was upon the point of calling out to him, when I gaw he did not recognize me. Since we had last been together my beard had grown pam baint and my dress was also Changed to that of a semi-barbarian. I-drew my hat down to my eyes and spoke ina changed yoice. * A pleasant day this, my friend,” ** Yes, it is,’ replied the cracked voice. ‘A fine country this, too.” : ** Yes, that’s 60; didn’t expect to see you.”’ ** And why not, my friend?”’ *'Cause ‘taint often you see a white man in these parts; you're the first one I've seen.” ** And how is it you’re here yourself?” ‘*Wal, stranger, there's a long story fastened to that question—a longer one than I care about spin- ning at present.” ‘You are not a prisoner, I hope?” “It was some time last fall I got tuk, and I’ve been with them, of cotrse, ever since.” “And why have you remained with them so long? It strikes me that if J had the fine opportunity you have, I should not be long waiting to bid them fare- well.”’ ** Yon see, when I landed down here it was winter, and you must know that. a fellow from the States ok make poor work tramping a thousand miles at suchatime., Sol concluded to wait till spring, and have been thinking about going for the last month or two, but somehow or other I haven’t got started; I suppose cause I haven't had a good start.” * You wish to return to the States?” “*T puess T do; Iam aboutas homesick a dog as you ever laid eyes on; and there’s a gal home that I want to see amazingly.”’ At this remark I was compelled to cough several times, 1 felt like dropping ay the grass and rolling over and over, and yelling like an Indian. But I de- termined to carry the deception still further. ‘She most likely has given you up as dead by this time,” ‘I'm a little afraid she has, and that’s the reason I want to go down and tell her her mistake. ButI don't isnow as it would be any use, by gracious!” ** And why not, pray?” “Oh, there's a chap named Bill Hawkins, who thinks he’s mighty smart, all the time flourishing round there: I'd just like to lay hands on him once,”’ and Nat shook his clinched hands menacingly. Then resuming his-natural manner, he added, and with a sort of desperation, “I don’t care, though. If Sal wants him. she can have: him.” “That's it. Take things philosophically is my mot- to, when you are compelled to." in making this last remark, I unwittingly dropped my voice to its natural key. Nat started, and stared wonderingly at me. * Did my remark surprise you?’ I asked, working harder than Lever did to maintain my gravity. ‘* Tt weren't what you said, but your voice sounded amazingly like g person I used to know, He was about your size, but don't dress like you, nor didn’t have such whiskers.”’ * What was his name?” * William Relmond, from New Jersey.” * William Relmond, from New Jersey,” I repeated, as though trying to recall some half-forgotten re- membrance. ‘* He used to be called ‘ Jarsey’ by Bill Biddon,” add- ed Nat, quickly, as if to aid my recollection, * and do you know Bill Biddon’"’ I demanded. “T am of the opinion that I do, being as I have hunted with him a long time.” * Ah, indeed! He is an old friend of mine. I saw him some time since, and he was then in the service of the Hudson Bay Company.” * Didn’t he say anything about ‘ Jarsey?’”’ “I've hit itnow! That’s where I heard the name, Yes, he said a great deal about him, and he also men- tioned a person called Nathan Todd, I think.” **T am the man, sir,” responded Nat, with dignity. * You are! I recall now that he mentioned the fact of your captivity, although he was more inclined to say you were dead and gone long since,” * Bill is a ‘cute chap, but he's mistaken there.” “Yes, he seemed to cherish a warm friendship for ou."’ me You see, the way of it was this: Me and Bill Rel- mond started from Independence last summer for California. The company we was with ran away from us, taking my knife and mare with them, So we started for Californy on our own hook. We came across this Bill Biddon and changed our minds, or, rather, Relmond did, and we concluded to go ona hunt, We fixed on a place down on the Yellow- atone. and would have spent a good time if-it hadn't been for that Relmond. He was a good fellow, but betwixt you and me (you needn't say nothing about it, you know), he was rather soft, and I had to keep a clus watch over him to prevent his gettin’ into dan- ger. There used to come some ay wee down the stream in a canoe, and they set his head crazy. It wasn’t the Injins, though, but a white gal they had. ————— Beadle’s Half-Dime Library. She was pretty, I allow, but he ought to have knowed better than to chase ber as he did; he might have knowéed what would come of it. We used to go down and watch this canoe, One day Lwent a. little lower down the stréam than he did, and hid in some bushes beside the water to take a good look at the gal and the Injins. Pretty soon they came, and as they got along by me, by gracious if they didn’t start right into the bushes after ine! I was so fast in the roots and limbs that I hadn't time to get out before they got right onto me. I then up and blazed away to keep them off, but I forgot to take aim, and didn’t hit them, and the first thing I knowed I didn’t know anything. One of them smashed his tomahawk square at me, grabbed me by the neck, whopped me into the canoe, paddled to the other side, and made me walk all the way here. I haven't seen Relmond or Biddon since, and I should like to know what has become of them.” * Biddon is safe, of course; and Relmond was a captive, I believe, awhile, but he managed to make his escape some time since.”’ “How do you know that, I should like to know?” “Tam William Relmond !” Nat started as if struck bya thunderbolt, His face was such an embodiment of wonder, doubt, and pleas- ure, that I gave way completely to my feelings, and seating myself upon the ground, rolled over an laughed one of those laughs which rack our whole being, and make us weak as an infant. When I again resumed my feet, my friend approached and extend- ed his hand, “ What are you laughing at? all the time.’’ It is hardly worth while to dwell upon the words which passed between Nat and myself after my iden- tity became known to him. Of course he was’ half frantic with joy, in turn, and overwhelmed me with questions and explanations, and in the.course of half an hour we came to a full understanding. I had acquainted him with my separation from Imogene, and that she was waiting for me at ** Death Rock.” He knew the place well, and without losing timé we hastened forward. He had become acquaint- ed with Imogene, and bad often conversed with her about her Jost sister, and of me, little dreaming that she had ever seen me. Nat proved his knowledge of the country, for his course toward the Death Rock was direct, and, ere we had traveled. — miles, it loomed up to view. It seeméd a long while to reach it, but before dark we were both conversing with Imogene, The night was spent within its natural cave, Nat and I conversing around the fire, while Imogene, wrapped in our blankets, slumbered unconsciously beside it. Nat succeeded in catching several fine trout from a sinall mountain-stream, and when we resumed our journey, three more hopeful people cou!d not have en found in the universe. Our progress was Jess rapid than usual, as we feared for Imogene, although her life had been such as to make her the very embodiment of health and activity, At night we reached a bend of the Yellow- stone, and Y ign eo upon its banks. <A fire was again kindled, and while Nat kept watch, I concluded to take a little rest. He allowed me to sleep heavily un- til morning, when I was aroused by one of the most unearthly shrieks that ever greeted mortal ear. **God of Heaven! what does that mean?” I ex- claimed, springing to/my feet, ‘Sounds like the ‘Snorter,’ the engine that I heard on the Boston road,” answered Nat; rubbing his eyes. “Hush!” I admonished, as again that hideous scream burst upon us. ‘Wonder if the Pacific Railroad’s built. yet?” re- marked Nat, “or maybe some of their engines have run away from them,” As I stood wondering and waiting, the gray light of morning commenced appearing through the forest, and shortly the day'dawned. A moment after, as I was about to awaken Imogene, the awful scream was repeated, seemingly directly across the river. It was not a human voice, but sounded like the cry of a wild animal in the direst agony. As if our terror was stijl too faint, we now heard the loud ring of a bell. ‘* What is that?’ asked Imogene, pale with horror. ** Heaven knows!’’ I answered. ** Sounds like the old bell up in Lubec,” remarked Nat, who, singularly enough, was the least agitated. *' Listen!” whispered Imogene, raising her hand. Now was heard a déad sound like the distant heave of the stormy sea, growing stronger and nearer pe pa and at intervals that wild, unearthly shriek. * Look!” spoke Imogene, in a husky whisper, pointing down the river. I did look, and what was seen? There, just round- ing the curve of the Yellowstone below us, burst the broad, flaming hull of a steamboat, For a moment I could scarce believe my senses: Nat was the first to recover himself. “TI knowed what it was all the time, by gracious! Hillea, you!” i The latter exclamation was addressed in vociferous tones to the steamboat; and, fearing lest he might still escape notice, he sprung into the water and waved his eames excitedly over his head, yelling at the top of his voice all the time, We had been seen however, and heeded by those on the boat. A small bell tinkled, and instantly the huge wheel of the steamer reversed, plowing the water into foamy waves, and quickly bringing it to a stand-still. The captain then hailed us, , “What's wanted?” “ Supper and lodging,’”’ answered Nat. **Who are you?’ “White men, of course.” “White men? J see only one, and you're an Injin, sure as I'm Captaln Garoold."’ I knowed it was you ——sa I now stepped forward from the shelter of the for- est, to which I had instinctively retreated with the | trembling Imogene. ** Ah! who are these?” called the captain, bereop 0520 “We are whites, as you can readily see, and only ask to be taken to our friends.” A few minutes afterward a small boat put off from the steamer, and Imogene, followed by myself, stepped into the boat, but Nat lingered. ia, hurry, Nat, don’t keep them waiting,” said I. “ I’m going to remain,” he remarked, quietly. “What do you mean?” I asked in astonishment. He approached and whispered in my ear: a oa going to hunt up Irene Merment !" Ww 1y—” ** Don’t say anything,” he interrupted, with a smile. “JT willdoit, There is no use trying to persuade me to go with you.- My mind ig made up, and has been made up a long time.” Imogene joined her entreaties with mine, but he could not be made to change his resolution. Not wishing to detain our friends, I extended my hand. “If you are determined to remain, I must now bid you dee pet Nat. Your determination is so new to me that I can hardly realizeit, Itisa ed acc ge search I fear. May the One who has so mercifully watched over all of us still protect you. If you ever see ’Bid- don, don’t forg+t me to him. Good-by.” “‘Nor me, either,” said Imogene, taking his hand. “T long to see him, to pour out my heart's gratitude tohim, I hope we shall see you again.” “Oh! you will, sure. I shall be down in the States one of these days, and like enough bring a wife with meé, and several little Todds, as good-looking as your heirs will be. You mustn't think this is a last fare- well, for I know it isn't."’ We exchanged farewells once more, and then were rowed out to the steamboat. As we were received on board, Nat swung his plume and shouted: “Long life to you! The fust news you receive from Nat Todd will be a dispatch from the Rocky Mountains, ‘that he is making a sensation in that neighborhood,’ ’’ and the eccentric being vanished in the forest. Imogene had no suspicion of the true cause of Nat Todd's erratic course, and I judged it best to let her remain in ignorance until Nat should inform her him- self. Whether that time was ever to come no one could tell; but I had strong hope that it would, As may be bred in our advent created an infinite amount of questioning and wonderment for our new- found friends. The boat was the steamer “ Shooting Star,’? which had been sent to trace the Yellowstone, as fur as it was navigable, by a company in St. Louis. They proposed opening trade in this section, and knowing well the prodigious resourcés of the coun- try watered by its tributaries, had sent a skillful captain and crew to ascertain its character and avail- std The river had, however, been ascended be- ore. The “Shooting Star” ascended the Yellowstone several hundred miles further, until brought to a stand-still by the rapids in its upper part. Several days were spent in running up Clark’s Fork, the Big Horn, Tongue, Powder, and numerous other streams, many of which, as yet, have received no names, al- though of considerable size,, All along the banks of these gathered crowds of wondering Indians, who surveyed us with mingled terror and amazement. On two occasions, when halting to wood, the crew were attacked by them, and one of their number was slain.- At other points they manifested a friendly dis position and bartered extensively with us. Finally the bow of the boat was turned home, and on a glorious morning in the latter part of June, 1850, we glided into the turbid waters of the mad Missouri, and a few days later the ** Shooting Star” rested at the wharves in §t. Louis. Accompanied by Imogene I made my way home as rapidly as possi- ble: As may be supposed, my return was a never-to- be-forgotten day to my friends. The caravan which I had joined at Independence had been attacked, a few days subsequent to my separation from it, by an overwhelming body of Apache Indians, Rumors reached the States that all had fallen in the magsa- cre, and my reappearance was like the dead return- ing to life. The reader, I trust, can imagine the few remaining incidents.. After inducing Imogene to re- turn to the States, I do not think I should have ever forgiven mysélf had I not offered her all the pro- tection within my power. She was like an exotic at first, taken froin a distant clime; but love works wonders. T6-day there are few accomplishments of her sex which she does not possess, I had gained no prineéss or wealthy heroine, but simply a wife in the truest sense of the word. THE END. Beadle’s Half-Dime Library. 1145 Hercules. By Oll Coomes. 1146 Baby Sam. By Oll Coomes. 1147 Webfoot Mose. By Oll Coomes, 1148 Buck Taylor. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 1149 The Mad Man-Fignter. By Maj. H. B. Stoddard, 1150 Scar-Face Saul. By Oll Coomes, 1151 Bill Biddon. By Edw, 8, Ellis, 1152 Ned Hazel. By Capt. J. F, C. Adams. 11538 The White Indian. By Capt. J. F.C. Adams, 1154 Old Zip’s Cabin. By Capt. J. F. C. Adams, 1155 Hawkeye Harry, ay Coomes. 1156 The Huge Hunter. By Edw. 8. Ellis. A New Issue Every Month. The. Half-Dime Library is for sale by all news- dealers, at five cents s. copy, or sent by mail on re- ceipt of 6 cents. M, J. IVERS & CO., Publishers, (James Sullivan, Proprietor), 379. Pearl St., New York.