Beadle's Half Dime Library (no. 395) (1885 02 17)
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SCURTA EDreion. TA XY : \ NY \ \\ \ ‘ X or PB W \Y \ \ \ rec »> A 7 fj ion Hl H \ \ 2 \ a ew \ WAWN] WOH WHOM WO Wc R =. ~ - eI aye > \S AW. OWR“ Co Hae \ \ Sb renter AE 2 , eee aan Tl he . eT Tal Ineal (Ce —7£. TRY ~ an a i i oa ES a lee Merrie cee ees hae IC TAS o $2.50 a year. Entered at the Post Office at New York, N. Y., at Second Class Mail Rates, Copyright, 1885, by BEADLE AND ADAMS, February 17, 1883. A) le PUBLISHED WEEKLY BY BEADLE AND ADAMS, Price, Vol. XVI. Number. No. 98 WILLIAM STREET, NEW YORK. 5 Cents. No. 395. jj California Joe’s War Traif; AY f op fi } bias 4 5 AY, ¢ Wit TZE OR LEERS SHG ae Oy. THE MINNESOTA MASSAORE. hE A Sequel to ‘‘ California Joe’s First Trail.” BY CAPT. FRED. WHITTAKER, AUTHOR OF “ THE SEA-CAT,” ‘‘ THE DUMB PAGE,” ‘THE TIGER TAMER,” ETC., ETC. CHAPTER I. A BIRD’S-EYE VIEW. Tue plains of the Northwest stretched a _entcnone and smooth, carpeted gat ge ase of a greenish gray, fading awa iftte a brown, as the hot sun score it into dry JOE GAVE ANOTHER WHOOP, AND TURNING HIS HORSE, YELLED AS HE SHOT AHEAD: tafts, that looked as if they could tempt the ap- ‘““NOW BOYS, ROOT HOG OR DIE!” petite of no animal. ee ers eee ee ee
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California Joe’s War Trail. High overhead soared a great King-Vulture, ‘his orange head and neck, and the bright colors of his plumage, shining out in strong contrast to the dusky wings and sooty apparel of the ‘common turkey-buzzards, circling to and fro, without motion of wing or tail, as the foul birds eagerly scanned the prairie below them, in quest of carrion. It was the battle summer of 1862, when the reat storm of war, in the older and settled States, had stripped the plains of their usual Mines of marching wagons. Nevertheless, the soaring vultures saw some- thing, or they would not have been gathering from all quarters, as they were, sweeping low, im graceful circles. keen observer might have noticed that their attention was divided from the fact that they were gathering in two flocks, about twenty miles apart, in both of which places the prairie was marked with a maze of diverging lines, that revealed the existence of ‘‘ bad lands.” These dark lines resembled the cracks in a plowed field, where the heavy clay is torn a@part by the heat of the sun, and the rifts ex- tend in all directions. The country was covered with a maze of wavines, that ran hither and thither in the wild- tt confusion, the sides of the ravines being for most part perpendicular, and varying from # foot or two, to hundreds of feet in depth. Some were cracks, not more than three feet wide; others stretched into gullies no horse e@uld leap. The sides of a few sloped, but most were sheer cipices; while the bottoms of all were marked y beds of sand, that had accumulated from the washings of the sides. Into one of these ‘‘ bad lands” a herd of buf- falo, with a little knot of Indian hunters hang- ing on its rear, was rushing, by a well-worn th, pursued for centuries by nomadic multi- seal while, at the edge of the other system of ravines, twenty miles off, two men were watch- img the approach of a war-party of Indians, coming on at a gallop, whipping their ponies evidently making for them. e vultures, being gifted with the keenest of t, saw all this, and more too. n the midst of these bad lands into which the buffalo were plunging, at the bottom of a ravine, sheltered from sight, a small fire had been light- ed; and a party of five people, all white, two of them women, was encamped—the mules of the party being tethered near them. The two men a‘ the other place mentioned as tching the Indians, were white scouts of the ins, while the party of five had the aspect, wunistakable in those days, of Union fugitives from the Southern States, coming North to get wager the protection of the old flag. e vultures, being well versed in the sights amd sounds of the Northwest, knew that the mecting of white and red always meant a fight, with probable pickings for birds that live on ughter. The odds were largely in favor of the red-men, this time; for there were but seven of the whites, eounting all, of which only four were able- Bodied men, while there were on or forty ¥ndians, already at the edge of the bad lands, #od the vultures could see, (what the white men could not), that hundreds more of the savages were on the march toward the center of attrac- tion, while their signal-fires were puffing smoke in a dozen different directions, over the seamed prairie. The time was one when mercy was the last thing to expect from an Indian toward a white man, for the great Minnesota Massacre had taken place, and évery Indian on the plains had heard that the ‘‘ Great Father” in Washington was in trouble with his children, and all the red- men hoped that the time had come to regain the land their fathers had lost. Help for the white people, there was none, rer than Fort Blake, on the other side of the | Missouri river, a good thirty miles away, the * @ountry between being entirely occupied by the Indians, who roamed up to the banks of the wiver, and made scorn of the green garrison, knowing very well that the recruits and volun- teers, gathered there under the orders of old General S., had never been in an Indian fight in their lives, and being also aware that the regu- lars they had been accustomed to fear had all been sent to the East to fight the rebellious chil- dren of the Great Father. Four men against hundreds, and the four di- vided! Only two could be depended on to meet the shock of the wily and desperate foe, and de- fend the helpless women they had in charge. Yot the two hunters, who were the nearest to icumediate danger, did not seem excited or alarmed at the perilous position in which they were placed. One of them had lighted a short wooden pipe, and was smoking as coolly as if danger was nowhere near. Both he and his pard were well armed with breech-loading rifles, and each carried a pair of revolvers in his belt; but ac were they against the odds coming to meet them? Yet they seemed tranquil, and as the smoker took the first pull at his pipe, he observed: ‘* Jack Corbett, ef it warn’t fur the pore crit- ters behind us, darned ef I'd ax better fun than we're gwine to have. We'll make them red mE snow they kurn’t fool with Californy oe. California Joe was already known as one of the best scouts on the plains, where he had made his camping-ground ever since the mining ex- citement in California had taken him, a green boy, from Missouri, and made a warrior out of him at twenty-one. A grand figure of a man, six-foot-two in his moccasins, weighing ‘‘a cool two hundred,” of bone and sinew; gaunt, lean, hard as iron, with the same humorous twinkle in his eye, and the same passion for smoking perpetually, at all times and places, that. he hey when he fell into the hands of Deacon Simplicity, twelve years before, and fought his way out from among the Mormon Destroying Angels.* Brave and self-denying as ever, he and his partner, Jack Corbett, had chanced on the party of Union fugitives the night before, trying to get to Fort Blake, and had volunteered to , Bes the Indians away from them, if not to bring. them triumphantly into the lines of the fort, in spite of the foes that swarmed around. A perilous task, as Jack Corbett remarked, when he saw the Indians approaching. Joe,” he said thoughtfully, ‘I’m thinkin’ that if we save our own ha’r, it’s all we kin do. I’m afeard the lootenant and the ladies is gone up, ef those cusses sets eyes on ’em.” Joe emitted a great puff from. his pipe. ‘“[T’ve b’en in hoels afore this, Jack Corbett; and I allers got out of em. When aour time to git wiped aout comes, we kurn’t stop it; but till it comes, all the Injuns on the plains urn’t bring it a minute nigher.” And with this statement of his simple fatalis- tic faith, he regretfully shook the ashes from his pipe, returned it to his pocket, and took up his rifle, as the foremost Indian came within a quarter of a mile of the ravine, in front of which he was standing. “Time to git the muels in,” he remarked, next, as va as if it were an ordinary necessity; and with that he took the long lariat by which his own animal was confined, and led the mule into the mouth of the ravine, Jack following his example, sure that the animals could not es- cape. That done, the two scouts lay down by the mouth of the ravine, and calmly awaited the ap- proach of their foes, ; They had not long to wait; for the Indians, in the confidence of overwhelmingly superior num- bers, came on at full speed, yalling <e devils as if determined to ride down the puny resistance of two men. But, as the two evinced no sign of fear, and kept their rifles pointed, without firing, the dar- ing of the foe gave place to discretion. Just as they came within gunshot, every Indian dipped over the side of his horse, diverging from the straight track, and swept past the scouts, at less than fifty yards, all the braves hanging behind their at f allop. The fight was beginning, and the vultures watched it eagerly, waiting their prey. CHAPTER ILI: - A LITTLE SCRIMMAGE. NEITHER of the scouts fired as the Indians ad- vanced. They knew better than to throw away a shot against enemies like those before them, who only asked for such a chance. They allowed the vaunting warriors to sweep past, yelling out fy Nr epithets as they went, from behind the safe shelter of their horses’ bodies. The whole band passed and turned, to come back the other way. As they did so, they were compelled to rise and pass over the backs of their horses to get a shelter on the other side. The opportunity was a good one to fire, but not * See ‘ California Joe’s First Trail,’’ to which this tale may be called a sequel. It must also be remarked that Joe was a real character. and a great friend of Buffalo Bill and Wild Bill Hikok. He was the favorite scout of the late General Custer. Jae’ Corbett and he served to- gether for many years under that officer. nies, and going in a longirregular string, . yet did the cool scouts avail themselves of the chance. 2 The Indians had changed, but too far off fora sure shot; and they wanted the red-men to be- come careless. A second time they swept by, within twenty yards of the place where the two scouts lay. Both grasped their pieces, and took a good aim. The ponies came at the same breakneck : but as they passed the place where the two men lay, there was a perceptible slackening of the pace. Once it seemed as if they were about to halt and drop their riders, but at the critical moment the courage of the Indians failed them, and they went on again. * Once more they changed, and this time well within gunshot. As the dark figures lea: up in the saddles for that instant, a sheet of flame burst from Joe's rifle, and one of the Indians threw up his arms and dropped from his pony. Then, with a wild yell of fury, they came on for the third time, and rushed down on the mouth of the ravine as if they had mustered resolution to charge home at last; but before they got there, Joe had crammed a fresh car- tridge into his rifle, and, as the rush neared _the mouth of the ravine, he and his partner fired to- gether, then dropped their rifles and grasped their revolvers. The effect of the shots was to throw two ponies headlong on the grass. Their riders, with an active spring, vaulted on the backs of others, behind other riders, as they were running; but the charge was checked, and the whole body scampered away, baffled in their design, and leaving two ponies behind them, while the body of the slain man was carried off and dropped on the grass out of gunshot. Then the Indians paused, and held a short con- ference, which resulted in their lighting a fire and making a smoke signal, which the beleag- uered scouts watched, with no pleasant feel» ings. ' The darned ornary galoots!” said Joe, in a tone of greatdisgust. ‘‘ Ain’t got men enough, ten to one; but they want more. Ef it were only jest dark, we could warm those ducks.” Jack nodded, but remarked quietly: ‘oTain’t more’n abaout noon yet, and they kin doa sag A of fightin’, afore sundown, Joe.” The remark seemed to displease Joe; for his countenance assumed a gloomy cast, as he an- swered, with asperity: *“Youw’re allers makin’ the wu’st of things, Jack. Darn your skin, ef I had as little cheek | as you, I’d go drown myself.” ack seemed to be nettled at the remark. ‘oTain’t cheek, wanted here; it’s grit. Ef you kin beat me at that, with yer old Tennessee, et’s see ye do it. Varmount kin stand the press, any day; and don’t you furgit it, Joe.” Joe seemed to be mollified, for he began to laugh, in his light-hearted way. ‘Waal, ’tain’t no use Mon and me quar’lin’ abaout nothen’, Jack. e got todo a taeo ot fightin’ yit, and mebbe t’won’t be Varmount, nor’ Tennessee nuther, that’s gurne to git aout with a hull skin. *T'ween you and me, I wish it was dark.” _ “So do I, pard,” declared Jack, more amica- bly, ‘‘ but wishin’ ain’t havin’, or we'd be mil- linaires. I don’t b’lieve they'll git thar fri’nds to come afore dark, anyway; and they darsn’t my and rush us, till they gits fifty, at least.” oe made no reply, but lay there, watching the Indians, who had dismounted from their ponies and staked them, while the riders sat in a circle on the grass, talking together. No variation was made in this programme for, another hour; when Jack Corbett, who was watching in the opposite direction from Joe, nudged the Tennesseean; and they saw, far away on the other side of the system of ravines ; a formed the bad lands, another party of In- ans. The situation had now become decidedly grave, for they knew it was in the power of the Indians to enter the ravines on either side, and so take them in front and rear at once, But plainsmen are hard to surprise, and Joe | had anticipated just such a state of things. | “Jack,” he said coolly. ‘‘One of us two has | got to keep the other eend of this. Which’ll it ’ be?” Jack shrugged his shoulders. ‘“Darned if I care. You go. I want to stay | hyar an see this sarcus through.” Joe, without another word, drew his body back till he was out of sight of the Indians on the plain outside, and stole off down the ravine to his mule.
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/ 4 | ee re m— sg Mounting the animal, he rode off at a trot, | and, in less than ten minutes after, was at the | other end of the system of furrows, with his | eyes bent on the advancing forms of a dozen or more Indians, who were coming on at a walk, as if in no special hurry. Joe took his place at the entrance of a ravine, | and prepared himself for a siege. He had plenty of ammunition, and had been in the place before. He knew all its intricacies and, among other things, that there was a thir pene by which exit or entrance could be made y a man on foot, though it was not practicable to one who was mounted, He felt confidence in his ability to keep off the dozen Indians coming toward him, as long as daylight lasted; and he knew that Indians do not like to fight in the dark, on account of their superstition, that a man who gets killed at night, will be in night all the rest of his exist- ence, in the next world. The men, coming toward him, were not aware of his presence, as he saw, from the careless way in which they rode. The Indians at the other side had seen him and his partner enter the bad lands; but these men could not be aware that he had seen them coming; for he had kept in cover all the time, and now was lying under the shelter of the edge of a ravine, his head hidden under a tuft of grass. He had his rifle by him, and had drawn one of his long pistols, which lay ready to his hand. He knew that it was good for nearly a hun- dred yards, and had resolved to make the most of his first fire. Slowly the Indians advanced, laughing and talking to each other as they came; but, as they got near to the entrance of the bad lands, they stopped their clamor, and behaved more like warriors on the war-path. It was in a line, and with their rifles at the advance, that they had finally approached the dark streak in the prairie. He saw that they did not expect anything there, but had taken a defensive attitude, from the mere traditions of their tribe. s He waited patiently till the foremost was well within pistol range, when he took a care- ful aim, and fired, with the result of tumbling the warrior from his saddle, and throwing the whole line into confusion. The rest of the Indians poured in a hasty and ill-directed fire, and thus gave Joe the oppor- tunity to snatch up his revolver, and send ‘three mere shots into the ranks, before they broke and fled in confusion. Then the reckless scout laughed to himself in solitary glee; for he saw that they had been so much demoralized by the unexpected assault that they had actually left two dead men on the ground, and that two ponies were trotting toward the edge of the ravine, without riders, scared by the firing and not knowing where to 0. He lay still where he was, and the animals actually went into the ravine behind him, when he gave a whoop, which sent them off ata gallop into the recesses of the bad lands, and Joe cried aloud: That settles your hash, e knew too well the nature of the Indian “warrior to show himself. There lay the two dead warriors on the grass; and the enraged Indians were gathering, out of gunshot, to make a dash and recover the bodies, according to their notions of the honors of war. He managed to get his rifle reloaded before ‘they came on again; but had to be content with _ what charges were left in his pistol; which re- quired time and care to refill. Presently they came on at a tearing gallop _and, as they passed by his hiding-place, dip _ from their saddles to pick up the nearest body. Joe fired as they executed the maneuver, and had the satisfaction of seeing one of them waver in the saddle, and let go; riding off as if he was badly hurt. Another warrior, however, caught up the ‘body by one arm, and it was carried away by ‘two men. : __ Asecond rally at er, distance, and then down they came, reduced to nine men, now, two of whom rode ahead, firing as f as they could, as they came toward him. He noticed that these two had revolvers, then quite uncom- mon among Indians. All carried bows at their backs, and their rifles were of the old-fashioned kind, muzzle-loading and small-bored. meugh, as they came on, at CHAPTER III. — . A NIGHT MARCH. Jor's assailants looked ~om and determined gallop. iz wr s SES i 8 o < eee ree Oe ee a ee ee | eae oo ny oe eG el ae Wer emo | California Joe’s War Trail. Without flinching in the least, they dashed up close to him, jumped off their horses, and tried to take him by storm. Had Joe lost his coolness in that moment, it would have been all up with him; but he waited till he had the leader sure, when he shot him down with his rifle, and then jumped up, with a | revolver in each hand, and blazed away into their faces, with such quick and accurate aim, that they wavered, fell back, and ran to their horses, after exchanging a few shots. He discovered, in that brief skirmish, that the pistols among them were only two, while the rest of the warriors had bows and arrows for close fighting, which they used to such good effect that he had his clothing full of holes, and had been grazed by more than one arrow, though, luckily, he had received no disabling wound. But the rush was checked, he had dropped an- other Indian, and knew that they would not dare to repeat the visit. ; Indians are not apt to follow a losing game ong. e saw them halt, out on the prairie, and sit down in a circle, whence, before long, rose up another of the smokes that had appeared at in- tervals, as signals to other Indians, that might be in the neighborhood, Joe watched them quietly; but he ground his teeth as he muttered to himself: ** Think to git me that-a-way, do ye? Waal, Tll git squar’ with ye, yet, ye painted skunks. See ef I don’t.” He lay there and watched the sun, as it sloped toward the west while his besiegers still re- mained seated, watching the mouth of the ravine, Their signal-fire was answered from more than one place, and Joe realized that there must be a whole tribe, out on the war-path. But he saw no signs of help coming, though he scanned the plain carefully. The sun sunk lower, and at last, just as it touched the horizon, Joe rose up in his place, so as to show himself to the Indians, as they sqnat- ted round their fires, and gave a loud yell, taunting and sarcastic. It had the result he had expected, for they jumped up, and he sent a shot from his rifle, into the midst of the group, knocking the dirt over them; the distance being t o great for ac- curate aim. As he had expected, they replied with a vol- ley, delivered with more haste than discretion, and several bullets pattered in the dirt round him, none hitting him. Then Joe took off his cap, withdrawing be- hind the edge of the ravine, and deliberately set to work to rig up a dummy, that should take his place. e put a clod into the cap; made several false movements, as the light faded gradually away, to give the Indians the impression that he was still there; then dropped behind the screen of earth, and stole away to rejoin his comrade. The night had fallen quite dark, by the time he got to Jack, and the low signal he gave was answered, as he came up and whispered: ** Anything new?” ‘*They hain’t moved sence you went. What was that firing?” ‘* Me. Rubbed aout five of the darned skunks.” ‘** Good for you!” ‘** And say, Jack—” ‘* What is it?” ‘Got two ponies—good ones too—in the bad lands. S’pose we try to run the lines and git aout into the plain? We kin leave the muels.” “Tm agreeable, if you air. But we cain” git aout this side.” ““Why not?” “Cause thar’s more’n twenty of the skunks, and that’s too much odds. Haow many is thar on the other eend?” * Right.” Jack reached out his hand in the dark, with the brief remark: ‘* Shake, pard.” _ Then the two men stole off in the darkness into the depths of the ravines, and soon heard the hoofs of the ponies they were in search of, as the poor brutes wandered disconsolately in the gullies, trying to find some place where there was a blade of grass. The sound guided them, and they had no trouble in oe animals; for the paths be so narrow that there was no escape for em. ar found and mounted them when Joe ob- served: “Thar’s a place, hyar, whar we could git aout and not have no fightin’ to do, bat. Yin afeard that we c’u’dn’t take the hosses with us. We movu’t try.” ‘“‘Sartain,” was the response. ‘‘ Ef the wu’st comes to the wu’st, we kin allers make a dash.” So they hunted round in the dark till they came to the place which Joe had meant, where they rode up to the edge of a dry wall of clay, about seven feet high. By standing up in their saddles, they could look over the edge of the bank, and see that the prairie all round them was still and solitary, while the light of the camp-fires of the Indians, at either entrance of the bad lands, shone clear afar off. For themselves to climb out was nee enough; but getting the ponies up was another thing altogether. Jack, being an ingenious Vermonter, suggest- ed the way at last. They rode the ponies to the very end of the narrow crack, till they could get no further, and were wedged fast be- tween two walls of clay. Both men got up in the saddles, standing, and took with them the lariats which they had found coiled on the horns of the Indians’ saddles. Both took hold and hauled away, encourag- ing the animals to try and climb. Vith anything less intelligent and hardy than an Indian pony, the attempt would have failed; but the animals seemed to comprehend what was required of them, and made frantic efforts to scramble up the side of the declivity, aided by the united force of both men, Neither of the nies weighed more than eight hundred pounds, and both men were strong and able, so that the task was accomplished at last, and both stood on the level prairie by the sides of their masters, when Joe chuckled to himself, saying: ‘“Won’t them red galoots be sold when they come to s’arch in the mornin’? They kin have the muels,” Jack returned the chuckle, and the two men mounted and rode off at a walk, peering through the gloom as they went. They had escaped one great peril, but others were all around them, and they blessed the darkness of night for the shelter it gave them. They knew that the prairie was full of In- dian parties, of more or less strength, and that none of them would make fires; so that they were liable to stumble on sucha party at any moment. ut both men had been in. hazardous posi- tions before, and had got through safe; so that they went forward confidently enough. he night was not so dark but they could see moving objects on the grass, and they took their course straight by the stars for the fort they hoped to regch before daylight. The ponies st*pped out with all the vigor of their race, and they pursued ‘their way for sey- eral hours without meeting anything, till all at once Joe’s horse began to snort and whinny, and the scout instantly threw himself from the saddle and grasped the nostrils of the animal, mutter- ing to Jack: ; ** Stop your brute, or they'll have the Injuns on us in the shake of a lamb’s tail.” Corbett followed his example, and the two scouts stood by their horses in anxious silence for several minutes, listening for any sound that might indicate the presence of the enemy, which the scent of the ponies had already dis- covered, All was silent, and at last Joe whispered: ‘“* Whoever they be, they ain’t near by. the beasts forrard.” They stole forward, leading the ponies, and in this way proceeded for about a mile further, when the animals began to fidget again. At this they turned their course, and led them off to the east, till the quiet way in which they went on showed that the scent of strange horses no longer disturbed them. Then at last the two mounted and rode on at a more rapid pace, taking the eastern course, and meeting with no more troubie till Jack’s pony began to snort again and I cried recklessly: ‘Let's make a dash for it! Darn the Injuns, anyhaow. We kin cut aour way through ‘em in the dark, or we ain’t no men at all.” Jack seemed to acquiesce in the notion, for he gave the rein to his mount, and they swept on a little further at a gallop, till the gleam of water ahead greeted them, and Jack exclaimed: — ““That’s what the brutes was snortin’ abaout. It’s the river, by gum!” A few minutes later they were riding down to the river, and their horses dashed into the water and drank in a thirsty, eager way that showed how they had, wanted water all this time. The two scouts never relaxed their vigilance oe as they let the ponies drink. Ws Fy : Their eyes were ing the banks of fhe river all the time, and it was well they did se, ae oe
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a ee s - Seer anted by any one else. _ filled it, and was about to strike a lig California Joe’s War Trail. for, almost before the horses had finished their first draught, moving forms were coming toward them ata gallop, and the flashes of firearms told that they had been seen. ““Swim for it!” cried Joe,as he turned his pony’s head out into the river. CHAPTER IV. THE VOLUNTEERS. THE scouts knew well enough where they were, for the Missouri is too big a stream to be mistaken for anything else, when it is reached. The turbid current swept the horses off their feet almost as soon as they turned out into the stream, and the bullets whistled round the heads of the riders, as they struggled to gain _ the further shore. But the night was dark and the current swift; while the Lg 9 on the bank, firing at them, did not seem to be very good marksmen. Within a few minutes, the ets went wider of the mark, and the two scouts knew they were safe from that peril, though the other, of drowning, was different. It was hard work keeping afloat at all, for the river was swollen from recent rains, some- where ee up its course, and logs and trees came drifting down rendering it difficult to avoid them. Joe and his plucky comrade allowed their mies to swim Mh the 2 sites = some dis- ce, crossing it diagonally, and aimi to reach the further baile: lower down ned the and wider place where they plunged in; but they were carried much further than they had intended, and when they at last touched bottom, Joe observed ; ‘Waal, that were a tough swim, pard.” Jack made no answer; for he was peerin through the darkness ahead of him, to see i the bank on which they had arrived was ten- The two men stood by their horses, ‘dis- mounting to allow the tired animals to rest, and listened as well as watched, till Joe who was never happy unless he had his pipe in his mouth, drew out that indispensable aegis t, when Jack exclaimed: “What in thunder air you arter? D’ye want to git all the country daown on ye, by showin’ sich aglim? This ain’t no time to smoke.” Joe continued to stuff the tobacco into the bowl, and when he had it filled to his mind, he observed indifferently : ‘*Don’t keer a darn, ef all the Injuns on the lains sees me. Thar ain’t none on this side of @ river; and it’s jest as well they should see whar we got to.” So saying, he i, ani the pipe, and the first gleam of the match was followed, as he had ex- pected by a faint yell from the other side of the river, showing that he had been seen. Then he threw the match into the water, and mounted his pony, saying to Jack: ** Look-a-here, sonny, I warn’t born yester- day; and I’ve been on the plains a heap long- er’n you. When I doa thing, I mean it. Come on, and keep yer eyes peeled.’ Jack, who was much younger, and had not been on the plains more than a year or two, while Joe’s experience dated from the old Cali- fornia ee excitement, followed his example; but continued to ble at the useless way his brother scout had attracted attention to * So He fad vet an sacre; and, w a few minutes more, they saw the dark forms of horsemen coming to- ward them, and Joe said quickly: “Don’t ye stir, Jack. The greenies won't Wlieve but what we're Injuns. and mou’t fire i! J Keep still, an’ let ‘em come up to us.” ‘The two scouts halted where they were, and wa body of men, in column of twos, riding them in a way that cau sight of either of t hed in his quiet showed they not eht the rs. Thé scou pring. ake ; ug ‘‘Naow, ef we was only Injuns, what a time we mou’t hev with those fellers! I c’u’d take one of ‘em, and they’d never know whar the shot came from,” Jack, whose disposition was more saturnine, growled: ** More shame for the Guv’nment to send aout sich a gang, to fight the Injuns. Why, ef the Sioux ever gits at.’em, they’ll wipe ’em out.” California Joe shook his head. ““Thar’s a hull grist of ’em, they say, enough to snatch the hull tribe of the Sioux bald- headed, and give ’em all the rope fur accidents they want. Besides, old Steady-go-easy* ain’t the man to let the ‘Tnjuns ketch him nappin’. Reckin it’s time we hollered.” So saying, he raised a shout, which caused an instantaneous halt from the party of trotting cavalry, and a confusion which augured badly for their discipline; for they got into a huddle and began to talk to each other, while the two scouts, had they been ’so minded, might have fired at them and fled, with a good chance of es- cape. But such was not their intention; and Joe; as | soon as the excitement had quieted down, re- peated his shout, and called out in English: “Hi! We're white men! What in blazes is the matter with ye? This-a-way! Hi! This-a- way!” Then they heard the voice of the leader of the peng: shouting out: ** Advance carbines, you fools! Do you want to be scalped, without a fight for it?” And, as if the shout had recalled some pres- ence of mind to the party, the men got into a line, and began a slow and cautious advance, in the direction of the scouts, while Jack Corbett muttered: ““By gum, Joe, I b’lieve the darned fools is ine to shoot at us.” ‘No, they ain’t,” replied Joe, watching the maneuver carefully. ‘ You keep still, and I'll manage the biz.” : Then he lifted his voice, crying: ‘““We're friends! Don’t fire at us! captain of your party, thar?” : ‘Keep on your advance, and if you see a sign of Fey. Hom fire, men!” was the unpromising Who's reply of the officer in command of the party on | w ich they had run so unceremoniously. ‘ It may be only an Indian trick.” It was rather a nervous thing to stay where the two scouts were, and allow the approachin party to come near them, ey as they did, that the men were recruits, and likely to fire at any moment, from mere inexperience. ut Joe had seen them before, and had the nerve to wait till they got close enough to recog- nize faces, even in the leader of the party: “ Ain't that Lootenant Braown, of Indianny?” ‘Why, yes,” returned the other, with an ac- cent of surprise. ‘‘Who are you, then? We took you for Indians.” Joe burst into a laugh. “The blazes ye did, lootenant! Waal, all I kin say is this: Ef we'd ha’ b’en Injuns, we c’u’d hev hed all your sculps, and you never know what hit ye, till ye got the bullet. I'm Californy Joe; and I reckin you've h’ard the name afore. Haow fur air we from the fort?” The reply seemed to banish all fears; for the young officer—he was but a lad of twenty—im- mediately answered, in rather a shame-faced way: es Why, so it is, and I never knew your voice. How do you do, Joe? The fact is, the general sent us out to look for you.” ‘¢ The blazes he did!” said Jack Corbett, with an expression of great contempt. ‘‘ Seems to me he mou’t hev sent some one used to Injun ways, You're the greenest I ever see.” ‘““T'd have you know, sir, that I am an officer, and that you will have te treat me with proper respect!” interposed the young leader, with some asperity. ‘‘ Mr. Joe 1 know; but I don’t know you.” “Oh, I’m well known,” said Jack, in a surly tone. “I’m Jack Corbett, and all I have to say is this: if the general takes sich men as you've got here to night after the Injuns, he’s going to get left. That's all.” : And Jack retreated into himself in sulky si- lence, while Joe, who was more affable and good-natured as well as loquacious, put in sooth- ingly: ~ Tt ain’t to be expected that a ining, feller on 4, his fu’st scaout is to know everything, Jack. I heerd the lootenant, and he did fu’st-rate, as soon as he got over the flurry. Naow, lootenant, ef * A prairie nickname for General 8. rk, when he said to the | ve suthin’ to tell the gin’ral.” Mr. Brown made no se ree and they turn- ed their horses and rode off, following the course- that Joe had taken when he first crossed the river till they pees to see the outlines of build- ings in front of them. uring the march Joe rode with the young: officer, and was giving him points on fattian : warfare, which Mr. Brown eagerly took in, for | | he was by no means the conceited upstart that Jack Corbett had imagined him. He came. | from an interior town of Indiana, and had never seen a wild Indian in his life till he came to the- | frontier with his regiment; but he was no worse off than many volunteers in other fields, who | had never seen a soldier till they found them- selves confronted with war in its sternest as- pects. Joe, who had a good deal of knowledge of hu-- man nature, knew that he and his men were of’ the very stuff that makes good soldiers when it. is trained; and he rode on with young Brown, resolved that he would help him all he could, for on him and his men, green as they were, rested. his hopes of saving the fugitives that he had: left in the bad lands. CHAPTER V. _ CROSSING THE RIVER. THE Sioux scouts at the Missouri river were: scattered along in bands, watching the further- bank that night, near morning, when they saw moving. figures and recognized the well-knowm outline of a strong column of horsemen coming: down to the river-side. made as the Indian galloped up and down, get- ting their scattered men together, and preparing: to resist the ching 4 : They could hear the rumbling of wheels:in the: fog that a over the water, and saw the crowd. of horses and men on the further bank getting: | darker and darker. Then came a big black object, the like of | which they_had. never seen before, till it was. / ; | | taken down to the water, and revealed itself in. the form of a bateau, with a smaller boat in. front, both being launched together from car- riages. ‘Then the Indians realized that their foes were- coming on in earnest, and they sent off to the: rear to hurry up every available man to make: _ attack, when the boats should reach the: | shore. F They kept behind the shelter of the trees that: rew on the side of the river, and kept an anx~ ‘ lous watch on the movements of the bateau and. its attendant boat. The latter was rapidly pulled across the river, and made a reconnoissance. Before the rowers could pull it out of danger a volley was poured into it from the bank, ti at caused one of the men to drop his oar with a | cry of pain, and the boat was pulled rapidly | away again, amid the triumphant yells of the | Indians eet ita that they had repulsed the: ' attack for g: They were disappointed, when another and. ' another boat put out from the further shore, and. _two more bateaux made their appearance, and. were launched in the stream, while a warm fire: | was opened from the small boats that kept in the _ advance. | Some of these small crafts went down the | river, and others went up its course, so that the: | Indians began to get confused at the number of their opponents. ; Then one of the big bateaux was swept out | boats, and pulled straight across the river, _ crowded with men, who opened a hot fire on the | fringe of trees that covered the Indians. | The fire was ret , but in a slow and scat- | tering fashion; for the Sioux saw that their ene- | mies outaumbered them, three or four to one, | and that the resistance could not be much fur-. | ther prolonged. When the bateau at last reached the shore, and a crowd of men began to rush up the bank | firing as they went, the Indians, not accustom to such close work, went off at a gallop, and the river was soon occupied by &@ whole | bank of t new troops, who had seen, under The old advantage dians ex ou’re agreeable, we kin go to the fort; fur E All was activity at once; but no noise was: into the stream, with a number of the smaller — general did not attempt to Pursue his et Me) “2-5 Be. a a-’ 1-4
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eigen e k ae, SIS NS ' fort all the rest of the bateaux, an tention. He had crossed the river, establishing himself on the further bank, and that was enough for him, till he had brought up his trains, and was ready for an advance. The rest of the night was passed in getting from the ferrying the cavalry and infantry over the stream in full force. When the morning dawned, there were four - thousand men, of whom one thousand were horsemen, across the river. California Joe, who had watched the whole proceeding with undisguised approval, exclaim- ed to his partner, as they sat on the grass by the . grazing ponies: “The old man’s head’s level, arter all, Jack, Td like to see the Sioux stand the racket, when ‘the hull of this aoutfit gits.at ’em.” by As the sun rose, the old general came riding to the front, or rather driving in an ambulance, his white hair conspicuous on the front seat, be- | side the driver; and, as he passed the scouts, he said to California Joe, with a smile: ‘* Now, then, boys, you’ve routed me out, and | ‘the rest is your lookout, Where are these fu- gitives you want us to rescue?” Joe answered the smile with another, as he said; . * Reckon we'll do it, gin’ral. Ef you'll let me take the calv’ry, we'll go ahead, till we find ‘em. They oughter be in the bad lands, a mat- ter of twenty mile from hyar; and me and Jack -we kin lead the boys to the place, as easy as slidin’ off a log.” But the old general did not seem to relish the idea of letting the scout take the volunteer cavalry, of which he entertained a great dis- trust, on account of the difference between it and the regulars te whom he was accustomed. ‘“ We'll go forward, in proper style, or not at all,” he answered. ‘ All I want of you and your ‘partner is to be guides, and show us where the fugitives are hidden.” oe pointed off to the southwest. ‘* Ef they be alive, gin’ral, they must be thar, in the bad lands. But ef we got to wait fur the trampers we cain’t git thar in time, ’m afeard. ‘The hosses will hev to stir right smart to do it afore sundaown.” The only reply of. the general was to give an order to his chief of staff, andthe whole force — out over the prairie, with a long ne skirmish infantry in front, the cavalry in the rear of the center moving slowly. The effect of the advance was imposing, but the scout, as he saw it, muttered to his friend; “T knowed it; I knowed it. Old Steady-go- easy won't never ketch an Injun as long as he vides in that dorg-goned ambulance. I’mafeard that Lootenant Vance’s goose air cooked, ef the don’t: hev better juck than common. We'll find his bones, and that’s all we'll find, when we git to the bad lands.” ; But he knew too well the inutility of napa with a regular officer to attempt the task, an the little army proceeded on its way for another ‘hour, the prairie ahead of them dotted with small parties of Indians, hovering in front and on either flank, none of them daring to come within gunshot, but all the while getting thicker and thicker, while the smoke signals from Indian fires were visible round the horizon, showing that the alarm was spreading. The old general kept on his course at the same keisurely pace till the sun had reached the zenith, when he ordered a halt; and the infantry soldiers of the command began to hunt for buffalo-chips ‘to make fires and cook coffee. Then Joe’s anger blazed out, as he saw the deliberate way in which the general was acting, and he rode up to him. | The veteran had got out of hisambulance, and ‘was sweeping the horizon with a telescope, when ‘the scout approached him and asked: ‘Please, gin’ral, kin I say a word?” The general nodded, “Waal, then, gin’ral,” the scout began, “ef we air gwine to resky Lootenant Vance, this ain’t the way to do it.’ The general favored him with a haughty stare. “Indeed? And what business is it of yours, I should like to know? You scouts have your privileges; but you must not abuse them.” ““T know that, gin’ral,” Joe answered; ‘‘ but ood man like tenant Vance is in danger, it’s time to speak aout. Gin’ral, won’t yelet me take the calv’ry and make a dash? kk at them galoots! Th’a’r’ jest larfin’ at us! See ’em at thar games! Give me only a hun- nerd men, and we kin git help to the lootenant. It don’t need all this aoutfit to drive few In- . cared ees ain’t more’n three hunnerd of ’em, | | ready audible, and the men in t | suspicions that the ! attack them. iii 5} ‘ oA ere ye California Joe’s War Trail. But the leader of the whites had no such in- | dicated by the scout, and saw that a cloud of Indians, numbering about three hundred men, as Joe had said, was coming down toward the camp, the ponies going at full speed, the riders circling to and fro, while their — were al- e camp had begun to fidget and stare at the enemy, as if a little more would lead them into a stampede. The men with them were all green, and the sight of the Indians, coming on so recklessly, had already excited in them, full as they were of the wonderful prowess of the savages, ndians actually meant to The general knew better, but he was far from being easy in hisymind as to the horses of the cavalry. He knew that the awkward riders were easily demoralized, and feared that a stam- pede of the animals might take place. He turned to Joe at once: ‘Take the rest of the scouts and drive scoundrels off.” Joe grinned. ; ‘*Thar ain’t but twenty or thirty of us, any- haow, gin’ral, and while we was drivin’ them, they mou’t takea dash at the stock. Ain’t it safer to git the men on tha’r critters?” The general hesitated, and while he was look- ing at the Indians, who continued their appa- rently reckless advance, there was a motion among the herd of horses that threatened a stampede, when his indecision vanished, and he said to Captain Colville, who was close to him, watching the affair anxiously: ‘Tell the men to mount. We can’t be defied in this way. They might as well begin now as any time.’ ‘those CHAPTER VI. THE FIRST FIGHT. Jor could hardly resist a whoop of triumph, as he ran to his horse and mitted. The next moment, the loud blare of the cav- alry bugles rung through the camp, sounding ‘*to horse,” and the men went to the stakes where their beasts were tied, and thereby saved them from the stampede which the Indians had planned. For a few moments there was a great confusion, the Indians coming up boldly, almost within pistol-shot; but when the infantry sol- diers ran hastily out into a skirmish line, to de- fend the camp, and began to fire, with their long Enfield rifles, the tables were turned in a hurry, and the dash became a hasty flight on the part of the savages, leaving several men on the ground. True, they returned, with the disregard of danger that characterizes their race on such oc- casions to save the bodies from mutilation; but by the time the cavalrymen had mounted, and were stationed in line, ready to advance, not an Indian was visible, though every one knew that they had but retreated behind the swells of the prairie, and were watching the camp, as keenly as ever. But the defiance had roused the blood of the old general at last, and when Captain Colville came to him and asked in his most coaxing tone: ** General, won’t you let me give those brutes one charge?” he actually nodded, ‘*But don’t go too far,” he said, with all his old caution. There is no danger so great as scattering in front of those devils, and the men are not soldiers yet, remember.” “Tl be very caréful, sir,” was the reply. Then Colville gave the signal, and two green regiments of cavalry, that had never yet been in action, advanced at a walk, in line of battle, across the prairie, amid the shouts of the infan- trymen, who were exulting over the way in which they had driven back the Indians, and wanted to see what the cavalry would do. At that early date in the war there was a reat deal of jealousy between the two arms of the service; and the cavalrymen were often un- duly nervous, from having suffered so much ridicule, Colville, who was a devout believer in the efficacy of the saber and a charge, noticed that there was a tremulous movement in the line as it advanced, and he rode out in front of the regiments to encourage the men. He knew that officers and men alike wer quite ignorant of their duties beyond riding, while he was the only officer present who, hav- ing been in the old regular army, had seen ser- vice against Indians. California Joe and his fellow scouts had rid- den ahead in an irregular line at a sharp trot, and had already begun to fire at the Indians as they became revealed by the advance. he captain, though there were two colonels present, was given the command, by tacit ad- ‘ ! The general cast a glance in the direction in- ' mission that he knew most about the matter, i 5 and he halted his line as soon as the scouts were fairly engaged, to give the men a speech. He had found out how efficacious speeches are prs tik to stir the blood of volunteers, and he had \ learned how +o manage them in the long stay a Fort Blake. ‘* Look here, boys,” he shouted, as the long line came to a halt, ‘‘ We are going into our first fight, and I want you all to remember one ing. Kee b hed ranks and obey orders. If yeu see the Indians running, don’t you run after them. The scouts know them better than you do. Keep together and give them the point, if they stand the charge. Now, forward, march! Trot, march!” Ms Then the whole long line swept forward ata trot; and, as the nervous volunteers rose over the crest of the next swell, they saw the Indians going off at full speed in a cloud of dust, at which sight the recruits raised a wild yell of tri- umph, and began to omit ge as the captain had foreseen they would, all their fear of In- dians gone in a minute at the sight of the flying f 0e. California Joe and his friends were galloping after the Indians, firing as they went, and it was hard work to restrain the excited volunteers from breaking ranks and rushing off all over the rairie. : Colville was compelled to order a halt, and re- form his advance at a walk, before the men calmed down, and then they were further quiet- ed by observing that the Indians had turned on the dful of scouts, and were chasing them back to the shelter of the line, as hard as they had been galloping in the advance. California Joe came back laughing, and as soon as he got near to Colville, he shouted: “Bully fun, Cap, ain’t it? We'll have a fight yet, I do b’lieve. e varmints air tryin’ to git us on tha’r resarves.” ““Go ahead, then, and do your own duty,” said the captain, sharply. ‘‘1 am going to ad- vance as far as they ill let us.” Joe gave another whoop and turned his horse, yelling ashe shotahead: — ‘* Now, boys, root hog or die!” Then away dashed the reckless scouts, and the long line of cavalry resumed its stately advance though, if Colville had looked back, he would have seen that his general was making frantic gesticulations to him to return, to all of which the staff officer was blind, knowing that if he heeded them, the whole force would be likely to stop where it was. ‘ nd Colville, being only a rn in his own regiment, who had seen most of his brother of- ficers made into generals and colonels, by the rapid promotion that accompanied the begin- ning of the Civil War, was determined to do what he could in the restricted field in which he found himself to deserve promotion. So he continued his course, the two volunteer colonels being under his orders for the time, and trusting to him implicitly; for they had not yet acquired the jealousy of regulars, which was a feature of the later war. The long line advanced at a trot as before; | and, when they topped the next swell, Colville looked back, and saw that the general had put his whole force in motion, and was coming on, skirmish line in front, as if he was about to face the whole confederacy of the tribes on the plains, | instead of a few hundred Sioux. The officer who was taking the cavalry for- ward with such boldness, grinned to himself, as he looked back at the toiling column. **T guess the old man will wonder more be- fore he has got through with me,” he muttered. “Tl lead him a dance. Old ima dy Pps A isn’t going to have everything to please hi this campaign.” " He had served long enough with the cautious old general to know that if he once went back where he could be reached by orders, there was no further hope for any fighting, and he there- fore kept on, without noticing the advance of the column behind him, though he could see that the general was sending a young officer of his staff after him to recall him. Like the celebrated Lord Nelson in a similar case, Colville preferred to be as blind as a bat. and rode on with his line of cavalry, so fast that the young officer who had been sent after him was forced to full speed to overtake him, which he did not do till both were out of sight of Gem- eralS.,intherear. CHAPTER VII. THE FUGITIVES. | Waite Joe and his friends were way to the fort, the little party, left in lands behind them, was every moment in more imminent danger. fh aee : | fa 5 | i f 1 oe | » bed er a ~4 h ‘ L pea bg
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saad Pe tS Le Me ee ae “ Sa ~ * fe Pate < Siu eee They had been hidden away in the bottom of a ravine, in the hope that no Indians might see way had drawn near them the very foes from whom they were hiding; though as yet they knew it not. he, They were a forlorn-looking party 1 but little calculated to take care of themselves in the midst of Indians. There was old Colonel Vance, eonce of North Carolina, but an emigrant to Ar- kansas, whence he had fled to save his life, broken- hearted, after the passage of the ordinance of secession. feeble, like himself; his nicce, Mabel Fay, who was also his adopted daughter; and these three helpless ones had, to defend thom, only two able- men, One of these was the colonel’s son, an officer of the regular army, who had been caught in the eneral surrender of troops, by Twiggs, in the tate of Texas; and had been held as a prisoner ever since, having refused to take the oath of alle- giance to the Southern Confederacy. He had been CF ee them, but the straying of a herd ef buffalo that allowed, as a special favor, to go to his father’s | plantation, and had managed the escape, which d been effected with the aid of Honest Tom Biggs, a tall, raw-boned muntaineer from North Carolina, who believed in the Vance family as the greatest in the world, and had followed his _ old employer, through all his misfortunes, with | a fidelity common among the despised white **crackers ” of the South. They all wore ‘‘ homespun” suits, and carried the universal shotgun of the south, instead of rifles, though they had revolvers. They did not dare to stir from the place where the scouts had left them, and the women cowered together, listening to the distant thunder of the great herd of buffaloes, as it passed through the ravines. Biggs, whose temperament was melancholy, observed, as he listened to the sounds: “Tm afeard we'll never git aout of this, looten- ant. Iam that, indeed.” George Vance glanced at the women, as he tried to cheer them up by saying: “Yes, we shall, will try to strike for the fort. that? By heavens it sounds like—” It was a faint, distant yell, which young Vance recognized as coming from the throat of an Indian, and he looked round at his father. The old man was seated by the pack of one of the mules, with his head resting on his hands, and as the yell penetrated into the ravine, he started slightly, and lifted his head. ‘ What’s that?” heasked, quickly. ‘‘ Itsounds like the howl of the savages, that we fought in the Black Hawk war. George, have they called in the Indians to their help, indeed?” George saw that his father’s mind, almost en- tirely broken down by grief, was running on the past, and he said soothingly: ‘There are Indians around us, father; but we have a good position, and we can beat them off, if they attack us. Don’t worry; but attend to mother. See, she is frightened.” Again the wild yell burst on their ears, this time much nearer, and Biggs. exclaimed: “The varmints hey faound us. Haow in blazes c’u’d they hev done it?” “They hev followed our trail,” responded George, calmly; but they can only come on us on one side, and we can hold them here. Get your gun ready, and we will give them a dose, as they come round the shoulder of the bank yonder.” : . He had not thought of his father, as being of any more use in such a battle than one of the women; but, to his surprise, the old man came up to him, carrying his old double-barreled gun, and said in his feeble voice: _ ‘George, lad, I can shoot yet; and if it has come to a fight, and they have brought the savages against us, they shall see that old Vance has not forgotten how to fire a gun,” “Go back, father. Think if you shouid be hit, what trouble it would make,” protested George, anxiously. ‘‘ W@ two are § cient to pes ‘this opening. You take care of mother and Mabel.” But at this minute, another wild yell, much closer to them, startled them all, and produced on the old man the effect of waking him out of his apathy altogether. _ His blue eyes flashed, and he cried: “Not a bit of it, boy. I followed Scott at poy gf Lane; I fought in the Black Hawk War; and if there is fighting, I’m not too old to fire a shot yet.” So saying, he took his place behind a low ridge of mo that formed a sort of natural breastwork round the place, and began to get his piece into order for rapid firing. ark, what is He had with him his wife, old and | As soon as it gets dark, we |} California Joe’s War Trail. George Vance had no option but to give in to the old man; for, at that very moment, a third yell came appallingly near to them, and the young officer cast an apprehensive glance back at his mother and Mabel, who were cowering together in each other’s arms, California Joe had warned him that if the In- dians saw women with them they would be so | much the more eager and determined, and he called out: ‘‘ Mabel, bring mother, and come under the shelter of this bank. The Indians must not see you.” . The girl heard and understood him, and whis- ; pered to her aunt, who followed the injunction with a ready docility t wed how terrified she was. : Both wemen ecoweret and Biggs, who was watc out in a low, warning tone: | ‘ Hyar they come!” ; close to the men; g the front, called ‘* Lie low,” ordered George, suiting the action to the word, under the shelter of the clay bank, where he had made several holes to enable him | to level his gun with the least exposure of his person. The next moment the feathered head-dress of | a warrior came round the edge of the ravine, | and a tall Indian made his appearance with his rifle before him, peered cautiously at the breast- work, and eame forward as if to explore. Biggs was about to fire, but George checked him with a low caution, and the mountaineer | let the Indian come on, both men lying hidden by the breastwork. Presently the forms of three more Indians came into sight, and then a whole string of wild- looking savages advanced slowly toward the low bank, at a distance of about a hundred yards, all having their rifles held before them ready to fire a volley at anything that might raise its head. But George had no such intenticn hen he could fire through a loop-hole, and he kad con- structed more than one such in the cic.y of the bank. To be sure, a bullet would have gone through the bank immediately around them; but as long as the assailants did not know where they were, the disguise was sufficient for safety. Old Vance seemed to be the coolest of the party, now that he was waked up, and whis- red: ‘¢ Don’t fire too soon, boys. It’s all in the first volley, with these fellows.” The old man seemed to be carried away with the memories of the past, and was muttering to himself, as he peered through the opening at the advancing Indians, At last they had got to within about fift ards, and George knew they could not muc onger be deceived by the apparent silence of the breastwork. The passage had widened, they had got into asquad in front, huddled into a group, when George nodded to Biggs, and both fired their shotguns, loaded with buckshot, at that short range, into the very midst of the Indians, the old man following suit a little after them. The volley threw the Indians into instant con- fusion, and a second volley was sent after the first, from the second barrels of the guns. The buckshot, spreading at the distance best for their execution, made fearful havoc among the savages, and, though they fired a hasty and harmless volley at the breastwork, the bullets hurt no one, and the remnant of the savages fled in dismay, leaving their dead and wounded, to the number of five, behind them. George Vance had been surprised at seeing them on foot, for he knew that the prairie In- dians, asa rule, never dismount when they can avoid it, but he knew also their indisposition to abandon dead bodies to the enemy, and he cried to Biggs, who was rising excitedly to climb over the breastwork: : ‘Load upagain,man! If you go there, you'll get killed, sure.” And, as if to confirm his prediction, one of the fallen Indians, a man shot through the breast, and wounded in a way that would have utterly disabled a white man, here turned over on his elbow, and sent a shot from the rifle that he had not yet discharged, which came near to ending the mortal career of the mountain- eer. It knocked his hat off, and sent Biggs back to his place in a hurry; while old Vance, who seemed as cool as a cucumber, now that the fighting had begun, remarked, in his high, pip- ing tones: ‘Yes, yes, Tom, don’t be rash. I’ve fought Indians before, and they are never so dangerous as when they are desperately wounded. They en eee eee eee oe are wild beasts, my boy. Don’t give them ‘a : chance.” All the while he was speaking, he was reload- ing his gun, pouring in the powcer from a flask, and putting a handful of buck:., «» top of the charge, with perfect precision, iui ering to him- self, all the time. CHAPTER VIII, BUCK AND BALL. Tue reloading of the guns did not take long; and then George Vance looked over the breast~- work, and saw two of the Indians, he had thought killed, crawling away. j They seemed to be des verately hurt, for their progress was slow; but they were getting out of range; and Tom Biggs, who was nothing, if not revengeful, said savagely: ‘* Let’s exterminate the darned brutes.” And he was raising his gun to execute his’ threat, when George stopped him, with the re- mark: “No use to throw away ammunition. They won't give us any more trouble, if we let «1. m alone, and we shall want all the shots we Live. In a few minutes more, the rest of them will be round the corner, trying to recover those bodies.” ‘‘ They’ll hev a fine time,” remarked Biggs, grinning, as he reluctantly lowered his piece; but he obeyed the order he had received, and let the Indians craw] round the corner. : They were received with a shrill yell that showed how near their friends were, and Tom Biggs remarked, as he heard it: “Jest as well I didn’t fire, lootenant. They’re a-waitin’ fur us.” ‘The next time, they will come on horse- back,” Vance observed, ashe listened to the yell. ‘‘I don’t see why they didn’t come that way, before.” His prediction was verified in a very short time, when they heard another yell, and round. the edge of the bank came, riding at full speed, a dozen Indians, as if they intended to charge the breastwork and capture it by a rush. The elder Vance shouted excitedly: ‘Don’t fire too quick, boys. I’ve been among them before. Let them come close, and give it: to them, as hard as you can.” Tom Biggs turned pale as he looked at the rush of excited savages, but he held his gun firmly, and it was well he did so, Instead of charging up to the breastwork, the Indians only swooped down on the dead bodies, and, as they came to them, stooped from their saddles, an: caught up the foremost by an arm and a leg, swinging it up on their horses’ necks. and wheeling to flee. Then came a shot from old Vance, which. breught one of the rescuers from his saddle, alk riddled with buckshot, and the body fell to the ground, for the second man was wounded by the scattering of the shot. f George Vance fired, and threw another of the rescuers from his saddle, when the rest fled, with a wild, wailing cry, as if they recognized the impossibility of forcing the passage, in the face of such odds. As they went round the cor- ner, Biggs sent another shower of lead after them, and had the satisfaction of seeing another man drop from his saddle, when he cried aloud. in hisglee: | ** Oh, lootenant, don’t I wish that ’ere Tennes~ seean was hyar naow.” He referred to California Joe, of whom he was very jealous, principally because he came from the State of Tennessee—which Biggs, as a good ‘‘Tar Heel,” hated cordially—and partly because Joe, who believed in rifles for the prairies, had made derogatory remarks concern- ing the shotguns of the refugees. ‘Why?’ asked George, as be rammed dowm another charge. ‘“‘The darned ornary galoot said that shot- guns warn't no use,” said Biggs, with intense scorn. ‘I'd like to ax him ef he thinks his darned old rifle could hey done any better’n. these things. Hey, lootenant?” And Vance was fain to admit that, for the work in which they had been just engaged, the shotgun, with its heavy charge of buckshot, _ was a weapon infinitely superior to a rifle. - ‘California Joe was right about one thing,” he answered, to keep the mountaineer from get- ting too conceited over his victory. “If we were out on the open plains, and the . ndians had. rifles, they could pick us off at a distance, and we could not hit them at all.” Biggs seemed to be struck by the remark. ‘Dye think that, reely, lootenant?”’ ; “Of course Ido, These guns are only good to a hundred yards, and the rifle is good at t uy Lices casta regretful glance at the dead bodies. .
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- covery, must of the Indians, tying in the pass iv font of em. “And thar’s two of the galoote ne rifles, naow; and we oughter hev em: oughtn’t we?” George Vance nodded. ‘“©We should be better off with them; but I don’t see any way to get them,” he said. In a moment, Biggs had jumped over the low breastwork, and was runniag toward the bodies, with his gun raised to shoot, if any of them gave signs of life. ut they were all dead, to the number of four; and he got to them, and deliberately stripped them of all their arms and accouterments, with no molestation from their friends outside, who could not see him. He took goodcare to do his work so ae that he was not heard. en he got back to the breastwork, he laughed “ae ig wig ‘“We don’t know nothen’ abaout Injuns; we don’t; oh, no, not at al! I only wish that Tennes- seean galoot was hyar »aow. I’d make him own up that No’ Ca’liny kin fight like a streak, when she gits waked up.” And Vance had to admit that the mountaineer had acted well, in the whole of the fight. After Tom Biggs had come back, and the rifles and ammunition had been distributed, there was a long silence, the defenders of the place expecting every moment to meet a fresh assault, for they could hardly believe that the Indians, after such loss as they had suffered, would be willing to give up the battle, without one more effort for revenge. But, as the hours passed on, they became con- vinced that the punishment inflicted had cowed the men in their front, to such an extent that they did not dare to renew their efforts; and when the sun at last set, and darkness spread over the prairie outside, making the shadows of the ravines more somber than ever, old Vance said to his son: “Tf they are the same as the Indians in the Black Hawk War, George, they won’t attack us in the dark, and we can sleep safely. I’ve heard Indians say that, if a man is killed in the dark, he will be on the night-side of the happy hunt- ing grounds for all eternity, and I know that we never found them daring a night attack on us, unless it was just before the dawn of day.” rge agreed with his father, for he had’ heard the same things from old regulars, when he had been stationed in the plains of Texas; and, as he realized that they were likely to have a quiet night, he drew a long breath of relief. e little party of fugitives, therefore, made themselves as comfortable as they could, and, in spite of their earnest desire to watch, first one, then the other, dropped asleep, so that the Indians, had they been aware of it, might have been sorely tempted to try the efficacy of a night attack, in the teeth of all their traditions. But George, though he dozed a little in the earlier part of the night, from weariness, was too much of a soldier, and too anxious for the safety of his party, to rest easy till daylight. He knew that their rescue would depend on the success of California Joe in his mission after the troops; and that the utmost he and his party could hope for, was to hold out in the strong position they had been left in, till the expectec succor arrived. Watching the stars, with the eye of a man who had studied his astronomy at West Point, and had not forgotten it altogether, he saw that the dawn could not be more than an hour or so in coming, and that he must be at work, He knew there must be an opening at the other end of the bad lands, through which the buffalo, whose somniaa pes been the cause of their dis- ave made theirexit. To find this exit, and, if there were no Indians guarding it, to make a possible escape therefrom, or at least so get a chance to graze the mules, for a little oe before daylight, was his object as he stole ong. Sporn nervous work in the dark, for he did not know at what instant he might stumble on an Indian in hiding, but he kept on his course, following the rise of the ground in the dark, almost as well as he could have done in the day- — and had traversed several hundred yards when he was startled by the sound of a light and er ined behind him. To w himself flat down on his face, and b his gun forward, was the most natural impulse ef his i and he listened to the light footfall with a beating heart, thinki ing surely that some Indian had got between him and his party ite of the dark. On came the a and presently he saw a dark figure moving cautiously along up the ravine in which he was lying. distinguish He could not di the outline in the California Joe’s War Trail. dark, but there was a rustling that sounded to him like the trailing of an Indian blanket on the ground. : On came the figure and, had almost got him, when he cocked his gun and said in a low tone: “Halt!” Then the figure started violently, and a sweet voice that he recognized as that of his cousin, Mabel Fay, said with a tremor that showed hew frightened she had been: ‘Oh, George, is that you?” George rose to his feet astonished. ‘“‘ Great heavens, Mabel,” he said, ‘‘ what made you come out here? You mad girl, go back at once! ‘This is no place for you.” But the girl, with a little nervous laugh, brought down the butt of a rifle on the ground, saying earnestly and rapidly: *“T won't do it, sir. can fire a rifle as well as any of you. I cannot sit quiet and see you all.in danger, when one idle hand might be made useful, George, you must let me come with you.” ‘But, Mabel,” he said in a vexed tone, *‘ this is folly. What do you mean by being able to fire a rifle? You area girl.” “ But for all that, when you were at West Point T learned to shoot, down at the old plantation,” she retorted. ‘‘Tom Biggs taught me, and I can hit a bull’s-eye, as well as any of you, if the distance is not too great. George, 1 know you are going into danger. Let me share it for this once, and if Ido not behave well, I will never ask you again.” He saw that it was no use to dispute with her, and reluctantly acquiesced, with the remark: “Tf you must go, you must; but you must promise to keep behind me, and do what I tell you.” “ “Tl promise that,” she said, eagerly. Then they stole forward, and as they advanc- ed, the gray light of the dawn began to steal into the recesses of the bad lands, revealing the tall, yellow clay banks round them, till at last they saw the open sky, with the morning star in a blaze of pale luster, right over the opening, and George said, decidedly: ‘Now you must go back, and tell Tom Biggs to keep good guard. If there is any trouble this morning it will come just at this time; but the two guns at the other side are enough to keep the narrow passage. I am going up to see if there are any Indians here.” “ And won't you let me stay and see if there are any?” she asked him, pleadingly. “ I promise to gO back as soon as you tell me, George.” “Well, then, come on with me, and we will see what there is here,” he said. With that he stole forward again, and put his head cautiously out over the edge of the ravine, so as to command a view of the prairie. He had no sooner done so, than he withdrew it, and said to Mabel: “Go back. There are Indians around, just as I thought, and they are coming hers to catch us at dawn. Tell Tom Biggs that when he hears firmg from this side, he is to bring all the ani- mals here, and the rest of the party. We are safer here than there, for there is no room for the Indians to get at us on either side.” She hesitated; but he warned her off with an imperative gesture. “T tell you it must be done, Mabel. If you refuse, we may none of us live to see the fort.” That decided her, and she turned her back on him, and hastened away, while the young offi- cer prepared to keep the narrow entrance, at which he found himself. He had distinguished, in the faint light of the coming dawn, a number of Indians, who were riding slowly toward the opening, coming from several quarters at once, while their fires dotted the prairie at considerable distances round, and from more than one smoke-signals were rising in puffs through the clear air. is suspicions were correct, and he had before him the probability of a siege on both sides, with an issue that no man could foretell. The strongest point of the situation was that he had come to a narrow place, where the passage of the ravine wound to and fro, and where two men could easily defend their front from any number of foes, if they kept under the shel- ter of the banks, and did not expose their heads on the prairie above. He waited there, in great anxiety, for near half an hour, watching the slow coming of the Indians when he was surprised to see the greater part of them were diverging to the other end of the bad lands. This showed him the object of the Indians, and where their real attack would come, As the sun rose, and shed a flood of glory over the level plain above, the sight became wonder- yy Se my ened Se ‘ } Z ee We n j thy barren eee aot) ae vee ee i og i ino tee wets ty eee oe a i eS roo i LS — * eS fully Raat as the long lines of Indians swept by. The stronger light also revealed to him the mistakes into which he had been led in the dim illumination of the early dawn, for he saw that the great body of Indians was at least three miles off, while those coming to his own attack could not number more than thirty or forty. But, as the sun rose, he saw that the attack was to begin in earnest; for, the moment the light. struck the plain, the nearest Indians whipped up their horses, and came down at a rush toward the place, where he lay concealed, A short 'time brought them within gunshot, and they galloped past the end of the ravine, at full speed, hiding fehind their horses, with the caution of their race, though they did so be seem to know whether the place was tenan The foremost of the line passed within fifty feet of where he lay, when he showed Himself. He was'rewarded with a loud yell and the dis- charge of a number of arrows, that came whiz- zing round him, one of them striking his arm, but only sticking in his sleeve. He was sorely tempted to fire; but remem- bered enough of the effect of the volley of buck- shot, that had produced such effect at the other side of the bad lands, to keep him from being in too much of a hurry. J CHAPTER IX. HUNTED DOWN. TuE Indians, according to their habit, passed before the mouth of the ravine, the first time, without attempting to charge home. They were merely recumpotestang the ground. The second time, they swept by so close, that Vance could not resist the opportunity, and he leaped up with a shout, waving his arms, so as to cause the first pony in the line to swerve. In s6 doing, it exposed the side of its rider, and Vance fired. The shot went home, and not only brought down the pony, but its rider too; while the scattered buckshot wounded the next pony in the line, so that it went lame at once, shotin the hind leg. The rest of the Indians, thinking the gun empty, rose in their s dies and came down with a great rush, when George fired the re- maining barrel into the midst of the huddled bodies, at a distance of twenty-five yards, with such effect that the charge was broken, and the men fled in a disorderly mob. Knowing that they were sure to return for their dead, he began to reload at once, and in so doing, turned his head slightly, to glance behind m. The sight he saw almost made him throw down his gun and flee. There, coming at full speed round the edge of the bad lands, was a treop of white men, in the well-known Confederate gray. One glance at the odds against him showed him that his time had come. He might beat off Indians from the fear of slaughter, but those men never. He would have to die at his post, and the sacri- fice bid fair to be useless. Thinking over all these things, he was still loading his gun as fast as he could, watching keenly the Indians in front of him, to see if they were in collusion with the new-comers. The sight of the gray-coats, at such a time, and in such a place, astounded him; but he could not but fear it boded him ill. As he looked, the party of white men, which numbered some thirty or forty, galloped round the edge of the bad Tenis, and came tearing down toward him, till within a hundred yards | or so, The white men paid no attention to the In- dians, who, on their part, seemed to be satisfied that the new-comers were not enemies. \ Then Vance heard the loud command in Eng- lish: ‘‘ Halt!” and the party drew up their horses, while the leader pulled out of his pocket a handkerchief that had once been white and waved it in the air, shouting: ‘“¢ Hilloa, Yank! I want to talk.” ‘“‘ Keep your distance then,” cried back George in his most iaenacing tones, “The man that comes within shot of me, is going to get killed.” The stranger laughed aloud as he heard the threat and shouted in reply: “Keep yer old pop-gun for those who are afraid of it. I'mnot. The first shot you send, will be the signal for my men to fire. They’re no Indians, but white men all, and the best thing you can do, if you want to be treated as a@ white man, is to surrender.” “Surrender, and be scalped and tortured to death, you mean? The best thing we can dolis
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avenge our death.” It was a bold defiance to hurl at such a force; but George knew that, the longer he talked, the longer would be his respite. e other had been listening to him attentive- ly, and here he burst in: ‘* ve heard your voice before. Who be you?” George, startled by the words, looked more attentively at the other, who was in plain sight, and recognized in him one of the officers of the rebel guard, put over him before he was sent to his father’s plantation. The sight did not reassure him, for he knew that, if he was caught by a of his white enemies, his escape would be liable to be inter- preted as a breach of his parole, though, as a matter of fact, he had given none, and had been allowed to go to the plantation, in the hope that the example of his friends and neighbors would “1 efficacious in making a good Confederate of im. ‘*It makes no matter what I am,” he said. * All we ask here is to be let alone, to get to Fort Blake. We have women in our party, and, if = have the spirit of a white man, you will make these savages draw off their forces, and let us go. do you?” he rebel shook his head, and his face assumed & graver cast, as he replied: _ “No, we don’t; but thar’s only one way we kin save ye from the Injuns. If you'll sur- render to me, you have the word of Frank Rhett, of the State of Texas, that the ladies sha’n’t be hurt. But ye must do it at once, or *twill be too late.” George made his decision in a moment. The white men might be severe with him; but they would not insult ladies, and anything was better than falling into the hands of the Indians. “Tf you will send away those Indians with you and come down here to help us white men defend ourselves from those at the other side,” he called out, ‘I will surrender to you; but if ou deceive us, and give us into the power of the ndians—” ‘** Hold on, hold on!” interrupted Rhett eager- ly. ‘‘I hail from Texas, and we air all white men thar, stranger. We was sent up hyar to look fur a darnation scalawag that run from us, and ef we find him, ’twill go hard with him; but as fur lettin’ ladies be hurt by Injuns, we ain’t the men to stand by and see that did. As fur as that goes, I'll take the ladies into the Yankee lines, ef nothen’ else will do.” “Do you give me. the word of a Southern gentleman that you will take them to the Feder- al lines if I surrender?’ asked George, as eager- ly as the other had spoken. Rhett nodded. ‘Stranger, whoever ye air, I give my word,” he said, and George at once answered: “*Then I surrender.” He watched keenly, in spite of his words, to see if any sign of treachery was manifest; but the Texan did not even call up his men to his help. He advanced alone toward the defender of the ravine, and when he wag near him, said, with a keen scrutiny that embarrassed George: ‘**T know I’ve see’d your face somewhere. 0) be you, anyway?” **Lam Lieutenant Vance, of the United States cavalry,” was the reply, at which the Texan’s face changed to an expression of great gravity, as he ejaculated earnestly: “‘ Lootenant Vance, on my soul, I’m sorry fur ye. I didn’t think ye was as much of a man as 7 air. You're the man I was sent arter to etch, and by gum, ef I'd known as much as I sa now, I believe I'd not have undertook the job. Then he turned round to his men and called out ces A ‘*Send them infernal Injuns packin’. We air sogers of the Confed’rit States, and we don’t want no savages to help us. Let Injun Charley You don’t make war on women, * tell’em. He understands tha’r lingo.” ~ He stood by Vance, as if he had no apprehen- sions of treachery from the man who had just surrendered to him, and did not even offer to take his arms from him. Then one of the men who had come with him said something to the Indians in their own tongue, and they went off reluctantly, the white soldiers coming toward the mouth of the ravine as the last of the savages rode off. Not till ge were all there did Rhett speak to Vance, and then it was to say: ** Now, lootenant, ef you’re ready, we'll go and see the ladies. You air my prisoner, but I don’t wanter be oncivil, all the same. I’ve my orders, and they’ve got to be obeyed; but, all the same, we ain't hogs in Texas.” to die fighting., The troops that are coming will California Joe’s War Trail. veh Vance bowed coldly, and the party went down | many years. Some things are being done now in the maze of ravines, leaving three sentries at the place where they had entered, with the order from Rhett: ‘Don't let a Injun come nigh ye. Shoot, ef Mate co but talk ’em civil fu’st. Now, looten- ant, Vance led the way, and the men in gray fol- lowed him till they came to the place where the little knot of fugitives was huddled behind the breastworks, in the center of the bad lands, watching for the Indians at the other side. Then ‘Rhett said to George Vance, in a low one: “If Ilet you keep your arms, will you give: your parole not to escape?” | George shook his head. ‘‘T shall try to escape whenever I can. You have followed me all this way for no other pur- pose than to take me back, and my commission as an officer of the United States compels me to go to my own lines as soon as I can do so.” Rhett shrugged his shoulders. ‘““As you pléase, lootenant. Thar ain’t no more chance of your escapin’ than thar is of findin’ a cat with two tails. Give up yer wee- pins, then, and tell yer friends over yonder that ef they want no muss, the sooner they foller | your example the healthier it’ll be fur them.” Old Vance, Mabel and George’s mother were already uneasily staring at the well-known gray coats, and their apprehensive looks showed that they feared the worst. George called out to them: ‘*T have surrendered to this gentleman, who is a regular soldier, to save us all from the In- dians. He has promised that the rest of you shall be taken into the Federal lines, and I am the only man who is a prisoner of war. The ladies will be safe.” They all seemed bewildered at what he said, and old Vance, with a heavy groan, faltered: ‘** And must we go back, too?” CHAPTER X. A GRAVE DILEMMA. THE Texan who had command of the daring scouting-party that had penetrated so far into the plains, spite of Indians and Federal troops, was a handsome young fellow enough, with a reckless, devil-may-care expression that was a good index of his character. He seemed to be kind-hearted, too; for he said, in answer to the old man’s unconscious wail: ‘You won’t have to go back, jedge, at all. What the lootenant says is true. You kin all go into the Yankee lines, ef you wish, though sich warn’t my orders, strictly speaking. But, when thar’s ladies in the case, the gin’ral won’t mind stretching things a little.” Mrs. Vance came forward here, and looked at him earnestly. ‘Ts not your name Rhett?” she asked him. The young Texan seemed to be surprised by the question, for he regarded her with more at- tention than he had yet shown. ‘** Why, yes, madam,” he said slowly. ‘‘ That’s the handle they give me; but you'll excuse me fur sayin’ that I don’t recognize you.” ‘** But [ought to know you,” said the old lady, still more earnestly. ‘‘Don’t you remember that your mother had a friend named Mabel Poinsett, when they were girls together in Geor- gia? She married Colonel Vance, of North Car- olina, and went to Arkansas.” ** Yes, madam; I have often heard my mother speak of the lady, but I never saw her.” ; ‘But I saw you when you did not_know it, and I shall never forget your face. You were the officer of the ‘d when my boy was kepta prisoner at Little Rock. Frank Rhett, in the name of your mother, my earliest friend, I ask you will you not let my boy go? Think, if your own head hi was to ask me for such mercy to you, would not my boy grant it?” The face of the young soldier was troubled for a moment, but he drew himself up, and re- plied: ‘*'You will excuse me, madam, but you do not understand the duty of a soldier. I have to obey my orders, which were to bring back Loo- tenant Vance, dead or alive, wherever I found him. I had no orders to take the rest of you, and it is my duty to protect you from the In- dians, though they are, as things stand now, our friends.” ‘* Friends!” echoed Colonel Vance, bitterly. “Tt has come to a pretty pass, when high-mind- | | I presume this gentleman is which make me ashamed of the very name ot the South, and the fact that I was born there.” The Texan flushed hotly, as he answered: ‘* Everything is fair in war, sir, and I haveno time to waste in talk. If you surrender, I will take you to the nearest fort, but your son (for our son) must come with us as a prisoner. You may think yourself fortunate that you are not included in the samo fate, as a scalawag, who had deserted his section, in the midst of a hostile invasion,” The old colonel threw down his gun with an apr some as he said: ‘* Well, we surrender to force; but, mark my words, Mr. Rhett, you will all bitterly repent this, in less than two years from now.” : Frank Rhett made a silent signal to one of his men to pick up the arms of the prisoners as they were surrendered, and retorted: ; ‘*That’s as may be. In the mean time, the best thing you can all do is to keep a civil tongue in your heads. The Injuns won’t take much talk from any one, I can tell you, and I shall have a hard time enough to protect you from them.” Then the business of disarming them was gone through with, and as soon as the whole party was surrounded by Rhett’s soldiers, the leader went forward to the other end of the ravine, and beckoned to the Indians. George had dread- ed this moment more than any other; for -he knew the wild ferocity of the savages, and feared that the Texan would not be able to con- trol them at all. The first result of the signal made by the rebel officer to the outlying Indians was a yell of triumph, and, the next moment, they came running round the corner, waving their knives and tomahawks, some of them with their pistols out, and rushed forward to the prisoners, as if they meant toannihilate them. eorge Vance —- to the side of young Rhett, and pointed to the savages, crying: ‘“Your promise, sir! Those scoundre not be allowed to hurt the ladies.” The appeal had its effect on the Texan, for he at once drew a pistol and called to his men: ‘Stop the varmints, boys! Not one of the women must be touched.” by The rangers immediately drew up their rifles, and the man who had been called into service as interpreter, called out to the Indians in their own language, something which had the effect of stopping the rush and beginning an angry and excited discussion, which the prisoners could not understand. must There was a great deal of gesticulation and — elling; but the interpreter seemed to be hold- ing fast to his position, and, by his gestures, made it plain that the white men had taken the orisoners and were bound to hold on to them or the present. 43 For a little while it seemed as if a collision was unavoidable between the excited Indians and the little band of resolute whites, but at last the clamor p ae down, and the interpre- ter explained to his commander the situation. ‘* Please, Cap,” he ‘said, ‘the Injuns is wild that they ain’t goin’ to hev no chance at. the prisoners. They say as how, ef they hadn’t cor- raled them, we wouldn’t have got no chance at them, and that they oughter have the women folks, at least, fur thar share.” ‘Tell them they can’t have the women at no price,” said Rhett laconically. ‘‘ That’s talk. The reply was translated, and George expect- ed a great outbreak. ‘ - On the contrary, it was received in stony silence; but all the Indians began to go away, as if they had resolved to abandon their allies. When all had departed but one, he came u to the interpreter and made him a short speec in his own language, after which he, too, de- parted.. Then the interpreter translated the message. ; : . ‘Please, Cap, the Injuns gives fa’r warnin that we-uns and them air on the war-path, till this ’ere muss is settled.” i ‘Why didn’t you tell me before then?” asked the Texan angrily. ‘I might have taken one or two for bonds fur the rest. Injun Charley, yowre the dorg-gorndest fool I ever met. Injun Charley hung his head. : os {would ha’ done it, Cap; but fur one thing. You don’t know what it is to be took into an In- jun tribe, as I hev be’n. I didn’t dar” to speak, sir, Ef ever they’d ha’ caught me arter that, death ain’t no name fur what they'd ha’ did to me. I hed my choice tween lettin’’em go, or havin’ ’em all daown on me, furever, And you know, Cap, whether we're gwine to hev an easy ed Southern gentlemen are compelled to consort | time, gittin’ aout of this place, what with the with the savages that have fought us for so Yanks and the reds.” 1 4
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Y aes ath ar +5 — Pea: ae eee S There ras wp. Re ae Raia ote % k3 2 etn 2 vie SG jig Sec Se ce ae rete 3 - Seer Bee Ae ao oe ae a aad . Lonnie A si : Ra . erik His words seemed to strike the Texan, for he asked anxiously : ‘**Do you mean that the damned imps will try to keep us hyar?” ‘** Thats ” wend what they said they was gwine to do, Cap. ey say, ef you don’t give’em up the gals, they’ll let the Yankee sogers come and take ye all. They say the Yanks ain’t fur off, and that they ain’t got no doubt that the Yan- kee gin’ral would give ’em all they wanted, ef he knowed who we was.” Rhett struck his forehead with an air of great . vexation as he ejaculated ; ‘*Great Heavens, why didn’t I think of this? I wish we'd never taken up with the pesk brutes. ‘I can’t give up the ladies, and ef don’t this hyar party ‘ll beall took by the Yanks. Dorg-gorn the luck!” Then he turned on Vance fiercely. ‘What in thunder made you run away from us, when you was treated decent? Now see what a scrape you’ve got all your people into. ‘You ought to be scalped; that’s what’s the mat- ter with you, sir.” George made no answer, so as to avoid irrita- a other any more than he could help.” Rhett turned on his heel and walked away, to hide his anger from the ladies, for he was a gentleman in that, as are all Southerners, He was in a dilemma that promised to over- turn all the success he had so far attained. He had accepted the mission to chase the fugitives, with the knowledge that it was a most hazard- ous one, unless he could catch them within the lines of his own army, in the state of Arkansas. The temporary alliance with the Indians had been part of the Confederate policy in the South- west, ae “gr not hesitated Sm take ad- vantage thereof, as long as it suited his purpose. Now that the question had arrived wikte’ Vio should disgrace himself and his cause forever, by giving up to the mercy of savages like the Sioux, helpless women, the whole nature of the young man was stirred to its depths with re- morse, and he hardly knew what to do. Tom Biggs was perhaps the coolest member of the party, now that he was a prisoner. He had never felt much interest in the contest that was going on, one “yd or the other, like most of the poor whites of the south, and it was only the accident of his employer having taken up the Union side, that had put him in the place he oc- cupied. He knew by sight many of the men in’ the party that had just captured him, and as they did not look sourly on him, but rather good-naturedly, as a possible proselyte, he as- sumed an air different from that of his chief and the Texan, who knew what was coming in the near future. i They were in a terrible dilemma, and all were puzzled what to do. CHAPTER XI, A STRANGE OFFER. AFTER some thought and a good deal of oh a Rhett appeared to have made up his mind, $ of eett he said, with the strong Southern ac- cent that marked him when he was angry and excited, though he could speak as well as any one at most times, ‘‘ you-’uns has got to come with us, and we'll see whether all the Injuns on the plains kin stop us. Git them muels aout boys, and we'll go the other eend of the bad lands, and let the Injuns come arter us, ef they r j " The order was obeyed at once, for the men of the party had already arrived at that rigid dis- cipiline that mariked the Confederates as the war settled down into a stern reality, though, at first, they had been the most pier a of soldiers. They took the prisoners and mules away, not rudely, but with a promptness that showed they would stand no nonsense. The ladies were pale and trembling, even Ma- | bel having forgotten her courage, now that she had white men of her own acquaintance for her foes, if she felt inclined to fight. he preferred to use the weapons of her sex, all appearance, for, she made an effort to smile courteously as she passed the young Texan leader of her enemies, bringing a deep flush to his cheek, as he bowed in answer. But he was too pre-occupied by the danger that surrounded him to be able to show much politeness, and be- fore very long, the whele party had come to the mouth of the ravine where George had first seen the rebels coming, and found the prairie empty of foes, the Indians who had been there having, apparently, gone away. _ “Seen an g?” asked Rhett of one of his sentries, as he came up. ‘‘See'd a lot of smoke, Cap, and the Injuns California Joe’s War Trail. has gone off, like they was skeered,” was the an- swer. Then the other sentry pointed out over the prairie, to the other side of the bad lands, where some moving spots were to be seen. Wee a great gatherin’ out thar, Cap,” he said. Rhett nodded gloomily. He knew what the spots represented. Every one was a warrior in full panoply, and the numbers of the foes, which he would have to face, if he persisted in his re- fusal to give up the women, was likely to be a hundred times what he could muster himself, for the whole Sioux nation was up in arms. But Rhett would not have been a Texan if he had not been convinced that a troop of forty well-armed white men could go anywhere and do anything in the Indiancountry. He gave the order to mount, and the rebel soldiers took their horses and got into line out on the open prairie, with the fugitives and their mules in the center, Then the signal was given to move off, and the little procession started away from the bad lands, taking the course to the southwest, oe would carry them toward the Confederate ines. George Vance, as soon as he saw this, attempt- ed to speak to the leader, but he had been con- signed to the care of two men who rode by him, and one of them said sternly: “None of that, stranger. The rest kin go whar they please; but you’re a prisoner.” ** But 1 want to speak to the captain,” urged the young officer. “The ray ened busy, and when he wants to see you,he kin tell us,” was the uncompromising reply, as the man in gray set his face like a flint against his prisoner. George, resolved to have a word, called out: “‘Captain Rhett, is this the way you keep your word tome? You promised to take the ladies to the Union lines.” Rhett turned in his saddle to say curtly: “Stop that man’s noise. If he won’t be still, gag him, and tie his hands behind him.” “Very good, sir,” replied George’s grim guar- dian, and Vance knew, after such an answer, that there was no further use in resisting. The whole band rode on in silence for some time, the prisoners in the middle going dejected- ly on, the leader of the party scanning the prairie keenly as he went, and seeing that the moving dots in the distance were wandering to and fro at a rapid pace. The men had got into a compact body, with a pair of scouts in the rear, about a quarter of a mile behind the main body, to guard against any surprise from the rear. his precaution had not been taken in vain, for the party had not gone a mile from the place, when shots were heard behind them, and the two vedettes were seen coming in at a gal- lop, pursued by at least a hundred Indians at full speed. ip oa e Vance heard the firing and turned pale as he looked at his mother and Mabel. At that moment he wished he had died in the ravine, rather than have surrendered to this man who appeared to have betrayed them. But Rhett, as the difficulties increased round him, seemed to rise to them. The very first shot brought from him the order: ‘** Prepare to fight on foot! Get off your crit- ters, and put them in the middle. The Injuns want to stampede the stock. That’s what thar arter.” His men had the advantage, against as many men from the East, that they had been brought up in the vicinity of Indians, and knew a good many of their tricks already, so that they were not as nervous as the same number of Union sol- diers of that day would have been, in such a case. They knew that, in fighting Indians, the ut- most coolness is requisite, and that a flurry is just what the Indians are watching for. As the order left the lips of the captain, they jumped off their horses, as they rode in fours, three out of every four going on foot, so as to have thirty men on the ground, with ten more leading the horses. The men on foot deployed into a circle to cover all the animals in the center, exhibiting no fear whatever, though the Indians were charging down on them with loud yells, as if they in- tended to annihilate them. But, as the savage rush drew nearer, and Mabel clung to Mrs. Vance, shrinking from the shock, there was a swerving motion of the whole Indian line, and every warrior disappeared over the side of his horse, while the whole band swept past, out of gunshot, not attempting to Lp EE LEE La OR charge home, as they had promised to do, by their actions. But George, who had expected as much, from the known character of”Indians, was more un- easy than before as he marked their conduct, From his elevated yA (for he had not been dismounted from his horse, and the rest of the pa was below him), he could see that more Indians were coming out of the bad lands from the very ravine from which he himse had issued, and it seemed as if the stream would never stop, while the moving dots, at the other end of the same system, was gradually disap- pearing in the bowels of the earth. It became evident to him that the Indians were biding their time, knowing that the only safety of the white men lay in remaining in the shelter of the bad lands, and that they had resolved not to let them get that advantage again, if they could help it. Rhett saw this too, and began to look bothered, as he noted that the Indians who had passed his party had halted in the prairie, and seemed dis- posed to dispute the way to the southwest. They had drawn up in a long line, and the in- dividuals composing the line were moving to and fro, as if settling a plan of action with each other, as they watched the white men, who had come to a t. George, who was anxious to get Rhett to keep his promise toward him, took the opportunity, when he saw the commander near him, to say: ‘““Mr. Rhett, if I were you, I would push for the fort. You can neyer get through these In- dians, back to the Confederate lines, without losing all our scalps, and it is better to be taken prisoners, and treated properly, than to have the Indians make mince-meat of you, and roast ou alive besides.” Rhett looked up at him in a peevish manner that surprised George, as he baer iy out: ‘Keep your advice to yourself, I know what Iam doing. I don’t fear those fellows a bit. It is to take care of these ladies, that Iam running all this danger.” “Then why don’t you take the way to the fort?” asked George. Rhett bit his lip. ** Because I can’t reconcile it to my conscience to let Southern ladies go into the hands of the Yanks,” he said. “I’ve got a proposition to make to them. It is nothing to you what it is; but it will save all their lives. Iwant to see the young lady alone, at a little distance from the rest. If you consent freely, it will be well for you, and may save all your lives.” George was astonished at the demand. ‘You are master of all here,” he said stiffly, “until the Indians come to take us all away. It is a farce for you to ask my permission te see any of your prisoners alone.” The Texan flushed deeply at something George could not understand. absurd, George could have fancied that he ac- tually looked ashamed of what he was doing. He walked up to the side of Mabel’s mule, and said awkwardly: ‘““Can I speak to you, miss, for a moment, alone?” ; The girl looked down at him with the smile of her sex, when they want to deceive a man, and answered in the sweetest way: ‘* With pleasure, Captain Rhett.” Then Rhett, looking very red in the face, and apparently unconscious of the imminent danger that surrounded them, led her mule to one side, and, when he had got her apart from the rest, asked her the singular question: ‘Miss Fay, would you marry me to save your life?” CHAPTER XII. A LOVER’S RUSE. Mase Fay, like most ladies, young and old, had had dreams of the way in which the first proposal of marriage wor'd come to her, but she can never, in her wildest imaginings, thought that it would come like this. Here, in the midst of a wild prairie, with a howling mob of Indians thirsting for blood and every sort of outrage, death staring the whole rty in the face, this young Texan coolly asked hee whether ‘‘she would be willing to ma him?” True, he added, ‘‘to save her life;” but the idea that her marriage could have anythin to do with that, seemed so absurd to her, tha she indignantly cried: “Sir, are you_mad, to ask such a question at such a time? Did you bring me here, in the midst of savages, to insult me ‘ike this?” Rhett cast a glance at the prairie round him, before he answered. The Indians were still com- ing out of the ravines, and passing towand the southwest, to intercept his flight to the open f the idea had not been, Pobes are 2 > at, Fa 3 ~*~ « ———— daa hor tvort ey —— ek >. Me S ‘ Sx we Sf
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10 California Joe’s War Trail. prairie. No actual firing had yet begun, but it might begin at any moment; and when it did, there would be no more chance for negotia- tions. He looked up at Mabel, in the most innocent way in the world, as he answered: “*T did not mean to insult you, Miss Fay; but the fact is the Indians want to have you given up to them, and they are friends of ours. don’t see what I am to say to them, if they de- mand you from me. They don’t understand the scruples of a white man, because they are not white, you know. The only thing they under- stand is that we are their friends, and bound to help them against the Yankee Government. Now, I don’t want to offend them, and they don’t want to quarrel with us, if they can help it. But they want the ladies, and there is only one way I can keep them without a fight. If it comes to a fight, you know, we shall all be killed, and it won’t do any good to any one. But if they thought, for instance, that you were my wife, and the old lady was my mother, and that I had been hunting for you all this time, it would give me something to go on with them, and they wouldn’t want to have it said that they stole away the wife of one of their best friends. That’s what I mean. Of course I don’t expect that a lady like you would be so good as to think well of a man like me, who is only a _ rancher, after all, and not well educated; but I thought that, to save your life, you might not object to being called my wife, just before the Indians.” Mabel Fay looked at the young man with a new light in her eyes. “Then you don’t mean to ask me penny, to marry you, but only to make believe, to fool the Indians. Is that the way you mean?” She asked the question with an arch smile that made the young man’s face redder than ever, as he cast down his eyes, unable to meet hers. ““No, I don’t mean that, exactly,” he said, in alow tone. ‘‘Of course I wouldn’t dare to ask you right out, on such a short acquaintance, but, all the same, { would if I dared, you know, Miss Fay; for you’re right pretty, and right smart, too. But we haven’t got much time to lose now, so what do you say to what I have asked "jet “T say that if there is no other way of sav- ing our lives, I will do anything that is not wrong,” said Mabel, the color rising in her own cheek at the singular situation in’'which she was being placed. Then she added, resolutely : ‘But I would rather be dead with the rest than see them suffer. If I consent to this you must let my cousin go.” “Your cousin!” echoed Rhett, astonished. ** And who is your cousin?” “*George Vance,” she said, proudly. ‘‘I am willing to doa great deal to save his life, for you are aware that if he goes back to Arkansas, he is liable to be tried and shot for breaking his parole. He never would have done it if it had not been for his father and mother. He ven- tured all to save them from the hardships that surrounded them where they were. I saw it all, Mr. Rhett. I would rather let the Indians do their will with me than be saved at his expense. I can escape their tortures by death, and I am ready to die, but not to betray my cousin.” The Texan listened to her attentively. When she nad finished there \vas a new expression on his face as he asked: ** And suppose I should let your cousin escape, would you marry me in earnest ?” This time she flushed crimson. “Who said anything of the sort, sir?” she asked, haughtily. ‘‘ is it usual for Southern gen- tlemen to bribe ladies to win their favor, or to speak when they are in sore need and e ad- vantage of their necessities?” The question shamed Rhett; for he flushed as red as she had, and said in a low tone: ** No, Miss Fay, I do not mean that.” Then he turned away and said, in a resigned way: Or Then we must all die together. I am glad that you are ready to die. Have you a wea- m? ““T have,” she answered, turning paler at the question. “Then, as you will not accept my offer to save your lives, there is only one thing to do, and that is to sell them as dearly as we can,” replied the Texan. ‘I dare not let your cousin 0, for it would be against my orders, and ne chiefs met, uty is above all the rest, though you mightn believe it.” And he was going back to his men, when the girl, in an impulse she could not resist, called out: “Stay; there is one other way.” | culty was likely to be adjusted peaceably. The eager manner in which he turned round showed her that he had not been deceiving her in asking her to become his wife. Love shone in babi” line of his face, as he said: “Speak on. I will do anything, if it is not against my duty.” Mabel flushed as she spoke out again: ‘If I consent to be called your wife, for the purpose of deceiving the Indians, will you let my uncle and aunt go to the Union lines, and give me your word that my cousin shall not be killed for breaking his parole?” ‘I will,” he said, heartily. ‘I would not have come after him if I had thought he was to be tried for anything of the sort, and the old entleman ought not to suffer for what he has done, anyhow. That is fair, isn’t it?” hen do with me as you please,” she said; and with that he rejoined the rest of the party, and said aloud, in the hearing of Vance: ‘* Don’t be afraid, any of you; I have thought of a way to get the Indians to leave us. iss Fay here has saree to be my wife, and the Indians won’t dare to disturb the wife of one of their friends. Dll take you to the Yankee lines at once. Where’s that Injun Charley?” Injun Charley made his appearance consider- ably mystified. ‘*See here, Charley,” said the Texan; ‘‘if the Indians thought this iady was my wife, wouldn’t they let her go?” The man nodded, *“Reckon they would, Cap. But thar’s the other lady—the olc one. Injuns is suspicious.” “That lady is my mother, and the old gen- tleman is my father, and don’t you forget it,” said Rhett, coolly. that, Charley?” Charley grinned, ‘What would they say to. ‘It wouid take the starch out of them, Cap. ‘ But they mouw’t want the prisoner. It’s hard to give up everything, when they’ve lost so many | men as those fellers have.” Rhett hesitated at the answer, and seemed to be in deep thought for a minute or two, during which the Indians, coming out of the ravine, were increasing in numbers. At last he smote his hand on his thigh, asif he had an idea, and | exclaimed: **Tve got it, boys. There was a good deal of gesticulation, which was so pantomimic, that the looker-on could make out what was meant. Rhett was saying that he did not want to be at enmity with his dear friends, and the Indians were making the most extravagant demonstra- tions of love and affection. en came some- thing which he took for an allusion to the enemy both were interested in beating, and the white man promised to do his best to help his red brothers in the fight. Then the interpreter made a proposition to the Indians, which the latter’ seemed to hesitate about accepting, for a long time, while he tried everything he knew to overcome their scruples. At last the difficulty appeared to be settled, for the Indians rode away, and the white man came back and called out aloud; “The Injuns want a man to torture, and as the prisoner is the only one I kin give ’em, he'll have to take his chances of life. Dve agreed to give up Lootenant Vance to them if they’ll spare the rest and they have agreed te give him a chance to run fur his life. That’s the best I could do.” George listened intently to what was gsaid, and, the moment that Rhett had finished, he took the reins of the mare softly in his hand. The man who was leading her had his head turned the other way, and the occasion seemed to be es propitious as any other that could have been given him. As he took the reins in his hand he noticed that the man who was Icading the mare let go, though his head was turncc ihe other way, as if he had been let into the pict. The next moment, George sprung upon the animal’s back and shook her rein, when she tore away, as if she needed ne more encouragement. The flight of the prisoner was the signal for Rhett to shout cut: ‘“Git your carbines ready, boys; but don’t fire, onless you’re sure you can’t hit the mare. I don’t want her hurt, fur a thousand dollars.” The men took the broad hint, and unslung their carbines, but did not break ranks in pur- suit, and in a very few minutes after that, George Vance was out of gunshot from them. The Indians were still at a distance from him, The lootenant shall have but they barred his way to the northeast, where a chance; the best we kin give him; but the | he wished to go, and he flew off to the scuth- ladies sha’n’t be hurt. See here, lootenant, come | east, with the intention of cutting across, .i he hyar.” ; He drew George to one side. *“ You see that mare, thar,” he said. He pointed toa handsome thoroughbred mare that stood among the rest of the horses, and wore the caparisons of an officer. It was, in fact, his own spare horse, led in the company at most times. ‘*That mare,” said the Texan, “is a ripper. I never see the pony that could ketch her, and she'll go like the wind till she drops, I can’t let you go free; fur that’s ag’in’ orders, lootenant and no man never said Frank Rhett disobeyed his orders, no matter what they mou’t be. ut, all the same, ef you was to git to that mar’, kinder sly-like, and scoot, the best you knowed haow, it mou’t be the best way to cut this ’ere knot. I’m gwino to take the old folks to the Yankee lines, and ef the yoting lady comes back to the sunny South, whar she was born, it ain’t my fault; but'I don’t wanter see you in a hob- ble, for you're a fu’st-rate feller, or you couldn’t have done what you have. You understand me? Now don’t talk. I don’t wanter hyar no talk outer no one, jest naow. But you’ve had the word. I shall hev to give you up to the In- juns, ef they kin ketch ye. That’s all.” And he went back to his men, without another word, leaving George in a puzzle, whether the hint, given to him, was a trap or meant in earn- est. While he was thinking of this, he saw Frank Rhett ride out in front of his men, and begin to make signals to the Indians, that showed he wanted to talk to them. The signal was greeted with a yell, and a trio of horsemen came tearing down, as if the In- dians were as glad as the whites that the diffi- George Vance saw Rhett greet their chief, who came in the advance, with great cordiality | | been and at the same moment he began to creep to- ward the mare, of which such a broad hint had iven to him. As he reached her side, Rhett and the Indian CHAPTER XIII. A RIDE FOR LIFE. Insun CuHar.uey, the interpreter, went with Rhett, and, as far as George could see, the in- terview seemed to be peaceable enough | 1 could, and getting round them. : He was unarmed, save for a small pistol, which he carried hidden in the breast of his ' coat, and which he had saved from the general disarmament when he surrendered. His situation was one of extreme peril, but he thought nothing of that compared to the fact that the Indians had serece to spare his father and mother, to say nothing of Mabel, and as he flew away he kept looking back at the party he had left. They had resumed their progress to the East, in the very direction he wished to go himself, and the Indians were clearing out of their path, as if to carry out the compact they had made. The most favorable symptom was that the red-men did not seem to be at allin a a wet! to come after him, for they spread out in a long line to bar his way, save into the recesses of the bad lands; and he slackened to a walk as he saw this, for he knew that they must feel very confident of being able to catch him when they wished, and he knew that his life depended on the speed of his mare at the critical moment, and resolved to save her. He reflected that Rhett would not have made such a point in speaking of the mare, if he had not believed her capabl- of saving his life. _ And then a thought came into his head which called a flush to his cheek, and mad_ him pull up for a moment, and stare at the ori Shag men in gray, as if he had almost made ‘1p his mind to go back, ' : “He said that Mabel had promised to be his wife,” muttered Georg. te himself. ‘It is not possible thai she can have done that. Shenever saw him in all been fooling him, for some reason. If I had any idea that he meant it in earnest—” The young man ground his teeth, but at that moment the Indians began to turn their atten- tion toward him, and he rode away, in the ho of leading them a round-about, which might give him a chance to scrape by them. The odds were great, but the way in which the mare swept on showed him that Rhett had not expgeere her capacity. e easy stride and rapid passage of the ani- mal convinced him that he had under him a regular racer, and he began to wish that he had some arms with him. ; He felt that, if He had, he might have a chance her life before, an must_have -
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eect aa at See ee ye Se ST Sees --* ‘ 7 ps a te fight one. out, in spite of the odds arrayed ut all the wishing would not bring him the weapons, and he was constrained to make the best of his way onward, in the hopes of outrid- oi Cee: 4g Indians, if he could not fight them. dere e took a diagonal course, and it soon brought : him in front of the body of Indians, gathered “t at the other end of the bad lands, into which \ Vy they bad been streaming before the parley and at agreement with Rhett. . Now they had drawn up in a line, and seemed to be waiting for him to run into their hands, without resistance. As he drew nearer, he altered his course, and, the moment he did so, they began to walk their ponies toward him. He did not increase his pace, for he found that the mare was a fast walker, and hoped to scrape by stealthily. For nearly ten minutes more he kept on his course, the Indians all the time getting closer and closer to him, as the converging lines got nearer to each other. At last both parties were not more thana hundred and fifty yards apart, and he saw that the Indians were getting impatient. The younger warriors were talking to each other, and urging their ponies to walk fast, as if they had begun to find out that the mare was beating them. Then George Vance shook his rein an darted off ata sharp gallop, and the instant he did so, the whole mob of Indians opened in full ery, and came tearing after him. en he turned his horse and fled straight away from them, to test the speed of the animal he rode. Finesse would avail him nomore. It was a straight chase after him, and the direction in which he was going would take him, he thought, to the Missouri river, at some a lower than the fort, but still in the neighbor- hood of Union settlements. The Indians behind him yelled their loudest to frighten him and make him ride harder than he should; but he had heard of this trick from an old sergeant of his company, and resolved that, if they caught him, it should be through no mistake of his, if he could help it. Every now and then he cast a swift glance atr his pursuers, over his shoulder, and it seemed to him that they were not gaining on him, though he was not gaining on them either. It was a trying situation for him, for he had never been aa by Indians before, and had heard all sorts of stories as to their marvelous wiles in pursuit, and the way in which they could get more speed out of a horse than any white man that ever lived. Bat he trusted to the speed of the mare he rode, and did not increase his pace at all, as long as he could keep the Indians at the distance which they possessed at first. ' They did not seem to be provided with good fire-arms, or else did not want to trust to them, for there was no firing at him, for some time. In this way he rode, at a hand-gallop, for near half an hour, when he cast another glance at his pursuers, and it seemed to him that they had lost a little distance. He was not sure of it at first, but he could see that their ponies were laboring, while his own _Mare was going as well as ever, and it occurred to him to try what he could do by increasing Vas the pace. Tes. a rt He pressed the spurs lightly to the sides of the "4 more, and she increased her speed, with rapid iN bounds, that satisfied him she was not yet jaded 7 feb be by the race. f ‘. a He kept up the faster pace for another quar- ter of an hour, and, when he looked back, this 4 time, was delighted to see that he had increased Ba the lead to at least three hundred yards, while ) the foremost Indians were getting their rifles ready, to fire at him or his horse. i That sight sent the spurs into the mare, in ye mood earnest, and away she tore, at such a pace ) t he found he was leaving the Indians, faster A. aoe than before. iA) Shs But the direction he was taking was not that Soltis | which he wished to pursue, and he thought that ae he had acquired a sufficient lead to enable him f to try another change. He altered his course slightly, and sent his - mare to her utmost speed, with the result that \ : ; 4 the Indians began to gain on him, by cutting off the corner. As they got nearer to him, they began to fire, and before he could gain the direction he had in his mind, he was compelled to alter his course again, and go straight away from them, to save himself from being sho*. As it was, the bullets ' whistled uncomfortably close to him, and he sure to be taken. Si cal California Joe’s War Trail. Another change; a fresh ride at speed for an- other y vegies of an hour, and at last he had gained his point. CHAPTER XIV. RUNNING THE GANTLET. He had headed the Indians at last, and they real- ized it, and were firing at him, with a vicious intent about which there was no mistake. Luckily for him, like most of their race, they were very poor marksmen, not having enough amniuni- tion at command for the purposes of practice; so that none of the shots hit him or his mare. He had | headed them, and the prairie was clear in his front. How long it would remain so, he could not tell. The Indians in the rear were dropping further out of the race at every minute, and he took a glance back to see if he could gain any intelligence of the white men, who had gone off with his father and mother. To his surprise he saw the dark body, which he recognized as the troop of Confederates, about three miles off, almost on a parallel course with his own, showing that they must have taken the same direction, from the other end of the bad lands. And, as the Indians in his own rear found they could not catch him, they began to sheer off in the direction of the other party, as if they wished to gei a chance at somebody, to sate their anger at the slaughter which had been made in the defense of the ravines. The sight sent a cold shudder through him, for he realized that, if they took a fancy to break their pledges to Rhett, they could do so with but little danger to themselves, while he would be taken at a disadvantage in the prairie, and would have no shelter. 2 He had almost made up his mind to try and lead the Indians away from them, by offering them a chance to come up with him, when he saw some moving spots on the horizon, ahead of him, and, at the same time, the Indians, who had been in the act of giving up the chase, uttered a wild yell of triumph, and came on harder than before. Then he realized that he was running into the midst of more Indians, and began to urge his mare again. The spots on the horizon were dead ahead of im, and he recognized them as horsemen, coming down to meet him. He realized also that the Indians had been waiting for these very men, in the assur- ance that they would get him in the end of the chase, not unwilling to give him all the tortures they could, by exciting his hopes, only to dash them again. His heart. began to beat fast and hard, as he saw the spots rapidly nearing him, and he began to feel that sense of hopeless despair which he had heard the old sergeant speak of, as the precursor of falling into the hands of the Indians. He felt that he was losi his coolness and set his teeth as he muttered to himself: ‘*No, they shall no¢ have that triumph! I 7rili es- ~~ I will ese7pe! Ishall escape! ag! yes!” epeating these words to himself, he mauaged to keep up his courage, and kept on his course with more steadiness than he had done before. The agony would scon be over, he thought; for the spots in advance were coming on so rapidly that he could already see, with the naked eye, they were horsemen. And then something produced a great revolution of feeling. It was a flash, and it came from the rear of the on- coming horsemen. It was the flash of a weapon of steel, and he re- cognized that the Indians, coming down on him, were fleeing from an enemy in their rear. “Tt must be that California Joe has found the troops, and they are coming down to help us,” he said to himself. : Then he drew out the little pistol from the bosom of his coat, and rode steadily toward the Indians in front, having already a safe distance from those in the rear. The crisis was coming! A little more and he saw them plainly, their pur- suers behind them at about a mile distance, a long line of cavalry and infantry, in regular order of bat- tle, with a little band of scouts in front, pressing the Indians close. to make them stop as often as possi- ble, and give time to the others to come up. The attention of the Indians in his front was en- gaged with the scouts, and he hoped to pull through in safety. ; There was not much time for reflection; for, in another moment, he was Sacieg the mob of fugi- tives, and the foremost was hailing him in a strange tongue, in words he took for a challenge to know , who he was. Then it struck him that the gray coat he wore might serve a good turn, if he used it with discre- tion. The Indians appeared to be in amity with the rebel troop that had come into the Northwest in chase of himself. He hastily made the Indian sign of ainity, by rais- ing his open palm toward the runners in front, and kept on his course as if he desired to get through them, and take a nearer look at the enemy in front. The ruse succeeded so far that none of the Indians fired at him, and he got through the line, unharmed; but, as soon as they saw him continue his course to- ward the distant scouts, coming on so rapidly, the whole band opened fire as fast as they could, as if they had but just discovered the trick he had sa ee e bullets whistled round him so close that he cted to get struck every moment, and he felt knew that, if one struck the horse, he would be | Snb or vwo sharp twinges, that satisfied him he was grazed, pe Then the scouts began to fire, with a rapidity that showed they had breech-loading rifles, and yelled lustily, with the view of frightening the Indians» from their prey. George, with the one idea of getting to them; ~_— his spurs till the high-spirited mare ran away ike a deer, and the next thing he knew he heard the: voices of white men, and was galloping back to the distant line of troops, with a mob of Indians after him, including all the pursuers he had had, with the fresh men that he had met; but the scouts were round him, while the voice of California Joe was. shouting: bi Well done, lootenant. I told ye, l’d bring help, and by gum, I’ve done it, sir.’ He was riding at speed as he spoke, and the rest of the scouts were doing the same, for their pursu- ers, encouraged by the presence of the Indians that. had been chasing George Vance, were coming on like the wind, as if they hoped (to overtake and crush the scouts, before they could reach the shelter~ of the troo S. They had to turn round and fire in retreat, to keep: off the too pressing attentions of the Indians, and then there was a shout from the front, as they’ came in sight of the cavalry, and the whole line of horsemen, with drawn sabers, came on at a steady and imposing trot, which had such an effect on the: Indians that they abandoned the pursuit, and halted to stare and wait for their friends, George Vance had an opportunity to ride into the front of the first regiment, and California Joe, as soon as he got there, rode up by his side, and called out to an officer in front: *Hyar, Cap! hyar’s Lootenant Vance, at last. By gum, he had a narrer squeak of it though.” The officer in front was a handsome man, with a black beard. He wore the uniform of the captain of the staff. He looked at George with surprise, and said: ** Are you really Lieutenant Vance, of the caval- ry? We thought that you had gone over to the: enemy, for certain. You are very welcome. We came out on purpose to find you, and now we cam. afford to have some fun, I hope.” George looked round him with surprise. He had never seen a volunteer in his life; for he had been, serving in Texas, in the old regular army, when the rebellion broke out, and had been taken, with the- rest of the troops in Texas, since which he had been kept in close coafinement on his father’s plantation, till the time of his escape. He had no idea that the: volunteers had been brought to such a pitch of dis- cipline, and asked the question at once: ‘What regiment is this, sir, may I ask, and who» are you?” “T am Captain Colville of General S.’s staff, and’ this regiment is the—— Indiana Cavalry. The- other is the —— Michigan, and, for green men, I can. assure you that they have done uncommonly well in their first campaign. Would you like to be sent. to the general, Mr. Vance, or prefer to do what you can to kelp us in whipping these red scamps in. front?” George turned round to look for the party with which he knew that his dearest relations were. “Tcame from Arkansas, with my mother and father,’ he said, ‘‘and we were taken prisoners, only this morning, by a party of Confederates, who- are in alliance with the Indians. They were in sight, not long ago; but I suppose they have seen. our force coming, and have fled into the bad lands. Twill stay with you, with your permission, till we have found them, for fear the worst, now that the- Indians will realize that I have escaped their tor- tures.” Colville seemed to be surprised at the news, “Confederates up here!” he exclaimed. ‘‘ Are’ you quite sure, sir? Remember that there are- white men among these Indians, that have married: Indian women, and they are up to any sort of devil- try. They might have deceived you, in order to secure your surrender.” ‘*There is no mistake about the thing. The name of the commanding officer is Rhett, and he comes. from the state of Texas. I should never have sur- rendered to anything short of a regular force, you: may be sure. But Captain—ah—”’ * Colville, sir, Colville.” “Captain Colville, there is a young lady in the: power of these men; and my mother and father are there too.” Colville seemed to be shocked at the news, for he: said at once: “That is terribie. The general must knowit. We must, at any hazard, rescue them. If the Indians get them, you know what devils they are, sir.”’ Then he turned and gave the order to go on at once, and make for the bad lands that they could see ahead of them, like a dark line on the face of the prairie. The line of cavalry swept op at a slow trot, and Indians were to be seen coming in on all sides, from every quarter of the horizon, their numbers exceed- ing anything that Colville had dreamed of, for they came in acloud like so many locusts, and California. Joe, who had been in the advance, came back with. a grave face, to say to the officer in command: " , it seems to me that the bull Injun nation is out to-day. We'd best go slow, till the walk-a-heaps- come up. : And indeed George Vance, who thought he had’ seen all the warriors in the force opposing them, was astonished to see, coming over the prairie, from all q more Indians than he had ever dream- ed of being in the Northwest, showing that, not only~ was the Sioux nation out, but other tribes also, and explaining the meanin f the smoke-signals, which. had been repeated over the prairie, the day be-- fore.
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12 The force of the Indians could not have numbered fess than two thousand warriors, gathered round the edge of the bad lands, where they seemed to be de- ‘termined to defend themselves. Colville, with all his dash and ambition, was con- tent, this time, to wait for the coming up of his hitherto rather despised commander, whose caution at other times in the way, was just what was wanted in the emergency in, which the cavalry found itself, by the sudden appearance of the Indians from the bad lands. The savages ha& already begun to hover round the cavalry, pressing it in their turn, and the situa- tion of affairs became grave. Just then the infantry bugle was heard, and General 8. drove up in his ambulance. CHAPTER XV. CLEARING FOR ACTION. In the mean time what had become of the Vance family, left in the hands of white men, excited against them by the violent hatred of a civil war, and surrounded by savages who thirsted for their biood, and were only restrained from immediate slaughter by the presence of the little handful of men in i A ‘They falt, as they saw the thronging swarms of In- dians making their appearance on every side that ‘they existed on sufferance only. When George Vance dashed away in his apparent- ly mad effort to escape, Mabel Fay’s cheek paled and flushed alternately, as she watched him, and George’s mother trembled violently, as she faltered ‘to her husband: ““Oh, what will become of him? It was a mon- «strous piece of cruelty to let him be killed before the eyes of his own mother.” Rhett heard the low complaint, and it touched him in a tender spot, for he said to her: “Don’t be alarmed, madam. I have giveh the gentleman all the chance that he could have for escape in the position in which we are. It was a hard choice they gave us, anyway. They wanted to get the whole of your party to do as they pleased with; and it cost me a mighty sight of negotiation before they would be satisfied with one victim. But they don’t know the speed of that mare, and if the Jootenant is the man I take him for, he is going to get out of this scrape alive. You see if he isn’t.’ Then he gave the signal for advance, and the -whole party moved forward toward the bad lands from which they had lately emerged, in a compact body, with the four prisoners, as they undoubtedly ~were, in the center, the men being strung out in a circle around them, ready to resist any sign of treachery from the Indians. In this way they trayersed the space to the bad ‘lands, while the eyes of the bye were strained over the prairie to see what had become of the fugi- tive, who was seen walking his horse deliberately into the close vicinity of a great cloud of Indians at ‘the other side of the bad lands. Soon the crowds of warriors blotted the single rider from view, and the Indians, at the end to which they were approaching, began to stream off in that direction, ai if attracted by the spectacle. Rhett todk advantage of their distraction to pass ‘the bad lands and take his course to the east, in per- formance of his promise, **You see, Miss Fay, that Tam keeping my word, at much hazard to myself. If the lootenant escapes from them, and 1 give you upto the Yankees, it will be a dangerous thing for me; but since I have promised, Jam going to perform my promise, at any cost.” She favored him witha glance of great gratitude, and said in a low tone: j *- You are doing a noble act, sir. -you cannot do still better.” “What do you mean?” he asked. “T mean that, if you would join the ranks of the ‘Union, instead of consorting with—”’ He interrupted her abruptly. “T am sorry to be rude toa lady, Miss Fay; but you are tempting me to dishonor I must stick to my colors, as 1 began. If 1 do what I have prom- ised, you have no right to ask me to do more.” ‘And with that he rode away to the head of his party, and came near herno more. They went on or another half-hour, when the faint distant yells of the Indians, on the side where George Vance had gone, made the ladies tremble again and the men in gray cast curious glances that way. Pretty soon Rhett called out: “By heavens, he’s headed them at last! Boys, the Yankee officer isa good man. Look at that!” He pointed out on the prairie, to where George Vance, conspicuous on the bay mare, was riding at a gallop in front of the Indians, the puffs of smoke telling they were firing at him, but he still keeping his course, as if he bore a charmed life. His mother watched him, with her whole soul in her eves; and so the chase and flight went on, till one of the men in theranks uttered an exclamation, which caused the leader to look round, with the ‘stern query: “Who told you to talk? Who was that?” “It was I, sir.” said a stalwart fellow, with tow- colored hair, as he saluted respectfully. “I beg your pardon, captain; but don’t you see suthin’ be- youd or the Yankee officer is running the mare so hard?’ Rhett looked round and peered under his hand in «the direction indicated. . Then he halted his command with a gesture, and vexamined the suspicious appearance with much in- ‘terest and attention. The eyes of the prisoners also turned that way sand they soon perceived the gleam of steel, which thad encouraged George Vance so much, when he Wirst saw it. It is a pity that ‘ ness which called forth a frown from Rhett. He turned his horse, with the curt order to his men, as he led the way back to the ravines: *Countermarch, march! It’s the Yankees, boys; and we’ve got to dust.” He had detected the coming of the enemy, and realized why the Indians had not attempted to pre- vent him from going that way. All his resolutions to give up the prisoners to the enemy vanished, as soon as he saw them really coming. He knew that he would have to be in a favorable position for de- fense, if he hoped to open any sort of parley with a regular force. and he was amazed and not a little alarmed at the numbers he saw approaching him. He ne not expected anything more than a scouting party. To regain the bad lands, and take up a position there, was the obvious course suggested by the sight of the oncoming Union force, and within twenty minutes after the first sight tof the gleam of steel, the men in gray were in the band lands again, the Indians near them, scattered all round the edges, and prepared for a desperate defense of the place, assisted by the ground, The alliance between the Confederates and the red-men, which had seemed in danger of being broken, was made doubly secure by the presence of a danger that menaced both. Rhett, accompanied by his interpreter, became the commander of the whole foree of the Indians for the time; and the prisoners saw the chiefs com- ing to him for advice, while the force at disposal was put into a position that would defy the efforts of anything short of double their numbers, and, in the mean time, the prisoners were left almost un- guarded, in the ravine near the prairie; even the In- dians, who had been eying them hungrily up to that time, not seeming to notice them any more, in the presence of the imminent danger, that was com- ing closer every moment. he prisoners remained huddled together at the edge of the ravine, where they had been left, watching the slow advance of the Union forces, hoping against hope that they might be saved with- out bloodshed. CHAPTER XVI. COMPLETING THE INVESTMENT. WHEN the old general came driving up in his am- bulance, he cast a scrutinizing look over the scene of conflict, and said to Colville, sternly: * You have come too far, sir. Did you not re- ceive my message from Mr. Brown?” “Mo, general,”’ said the staff officer, with the most unblushing effrontery, ‘Mr. Brown shouted some- thing to me in the middle of the row that was going on with the Indians, but I did not understand it, sir. Besides, we were’already engaged with the Indians, and T thought that you would not like to lose pres- tige by giving way to a | andful of savages.”’ The general frowned deeply. “A handfull’ he echoed. “It is what I calla pretty large handful, sir. I have seen a good man Indians in my life, but I never saw them in such force, or so determined. Now, we shall have to fight, whether we will or no.” Colville could hardly help the smile that rose to his lip when he heard the general say that. He had expected that S. would insist on withdrawing the men from the battle, in the face of the Indians, when he anticipated a general rush from tbe savages in their best point of fighting: harassing a retreat. But General §., though slow to enter a fight, yet, when it was once well in hand, was equally slow to leave it. He looked keenly out on the whole field, while the infantrymen were slowly coming up into position. He turned his glass first to one side, and then the other, and at last seid: * Colville, we can’t drive them ov/ of that. But, if we can drive them in, it will be something.” “Drive them in, general?” asked the staff officer, puzzled. ‘I don’t understand. sir.” The old Indian-fighter grinned. ** Ay, ay! you boys think you know the whole busi- ness. and sometimes you don’t. Don’t you see that the imps have resolved to cling to the bad lands? They know that we can’t storm them, and they are right there. Butif they once get into the ravines, all we shall need will be to guard the openings, and starve them out.” ‘ Then he leaned out of the ambulance, and called his orderly to bring up his horse. by The animal was brought, and the old man, with | his silvery hair and stout, unwieldy frame, got out of the vehicle and mounted the charger. Once on its back he seemed transformed to a war- rior, which he had not looked before. “Now, gentlemen,” he said, “you shall see if those confounded reporters were right, that I am too old for Indian-fighting.”’ Most of the officers grinned behind his back, for it was notorious that the veteran had been very much put out by correspondents of the Eastern papers, who had been hanging around Fort Blake writing letters to the East, in which they blamed his inac- tive policy, and called on the Government to put a younger man in his place. He seemed resolved to show them that he had not outlived his activity, for from that moment he ar- ranged matters with a skill that showed he had not boasted in vain. He sent the cavalry to the rear, and caused a gen- eral advance of the infantry on the entrance to the bad lands, before which the Indians fled in dismay; for thev could not face the rolling volleys of lonz- California Joe’s War Trail. : edge, as if loth to abandon their ponies and the open prairie. In twenty minutes from the time the general ar- rived, there was not an Indian on their front, in sight on the prairie. A regiment of infantry was left in a semi-circlo round the only opening on that side, while the rest of the troops took up their march to the other end of the system, driving the Indians beyond them with perfect ease, the firing being all distant and hardly anybody being hurt. All this time the general had been too busy taking care of his troops to notice anything else, and George Vance, who was still unarmed, did not offer to ob- trude himself on his notice. ‘But as the advance went quietly on, the old eneral found time to glance here and there, and at ast spied George in his gray homespun suit, ridi on the handsome mare that had done him such ood service. Tbe general rode up to him, and taking him for one of the camp followers, said to him curtly: “Here, you are not wanted here, my man. Ge back to the train. You'll get burt here.”’ George saluted in military style, sepieing: “IT beg your pardon, general, but I am not one of the mule-drivers. My name is Vance, and I have but just made my escape from the Indians.” The general favored him with a quick glance from under his shaggy eyebrows. ‘Hem! So you’re the young fellow that we have been making all this fuss about. Why didn’t you report to me when you saw me first?” ‘Because I saw that you were busy, general. [ have the honor to report now, and to ask that you will give me some duty to do.” “Why, certainly, you can come on my staff. I am very glad to see you, sir, and I only wish I had more officers of the army with me. These volun- teers are very zealous; but I fear we can’t depend on them at a pinch.” “They seem to be doing their work very well, so far, general.” ‘Yes, yes, sir; I don’t deny it. But—by the by— didn’t I hear something about your having some of your family with ig a Where are they?” George’s face fell, as he answered: “They are yonder in the hands of the Indians general. Ishould not be here, but for the fact that a troop of Confederates, from Arkansas, came u and induced me to surrender, on the promise of safe conduct to the lines for my family. They have broken their word, for they gave me up to the In- dians, while the whole of my family, including my mother, father, and a young lady cousin, are in the bad lands, in the power of the Indians and their rebel allies.”’ The general listened intently, with much frownin and screwing up of his wrinkled old face. ‘Hum hum!” was all he said. “ That’s bad, very bad, in- deed, Very bad.” Then he sunk into thought for awhile, as the ad- vance continued, and at las: shook his head, as if throwing off a weight from his mind, and said to eorge: “Tt is a bad a sir; but not hopeless. Go to Captain-Colville, and ask him to supply you with a sword and revolver, and announce ycu as @n ad- ditional aide. You want work to keep you from If it lies in pecoding on the state of ped family. the hands of man to save them, it shall be done.”’ S bowed low, and hurried off to do as he was Colville expressed himself as much pleased with what the ftir had done, and supplied him, not only with the weapons of an officer, but with an undress uniform of his own, which made Vance fee. for the first time since the surrender in Texas, th he was again a part of the great army of Uncle Samuel. Then he rode forward with the rest, and in two hours from that time, the Indians had been driven into the other end of the bad Jands, all but a few, =e See hovering round, as if to act asspies on the prairie. j The investment was complete, for there were but two ways to leave the bad lands, and these were marked by the trail of the herds of buffalo, that had used them for centuries. ‘Then Captain Colville had to acknowledge that his old commander knew how to fight Indians; for the narrowness of the exits made their guard a matter which only occupied a small part of the force at his disposal. and the Indians were secured, for the nonce, as if they had been put into a bottle. They were safe from attack, but they were also prevented from coming out to fight, save at a great disadvantage. Then the old general beckoned to George Vance, who had ridden up near him, and said to him, in a tone of great relief: “Mr, Vance, we have had better fortune than I could have anticipated, You say your family is in the power of the Indians? I Rate to open a par- ley with the enemy, and do what can to save your ople from extermination. AS you are aware, the ndians have vs at a disadvantage, in one thing. They know that we never slaughter prisoners, while their habit is to kill every person they think they cannot carry off to slavery. Jf the matter is not carefully managed, they may massacre all those in their power, and we s! all be as badly off as ever. oe roan any suggestion to make, I am willing to ear it.’ George had listened to him with a beating heart. As the general had said, the situation was full of range rifles that preceded the advance of the * walk- | difficulty. a-heaps.”’ Some went into the bad lands, from which a get Nad escape and left those helpless ones to per- Mrs. Vance uttered an exclamation of thankful | heavy fire was opened, but more went round the ‘*T almost wish, sir,’’ he said, ‘that I had not _— / \ ; DA ak ae
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\ ed peremptorily. » overseer, Thomas Biggs.” . gour minds. & 2 Bx ‘You are wrong there, sir,” the general interrupt- * You are an officer of the United States, and sworn to do your duty. It was your | duty to save yourself, for the service of your coun- | try. You did right. Strictly speaking, I have no right to take account of the prisoners, save as American citizens, and scms people may doubt whether I am justified in periling this large com- | mand to save— How many did you say there are in the power of the Indians, sir?” } “Four, general. My father, Colonel Vance, my mother, Mrs. Vance, Miss Mabel Fay, and our old | “ That is enough, sir. can suggest a way.” George looked round him rather gloomily. Then, as his eye lighted on the scouts, he said: ; ‘Pert aps, general, the scouts might make a plan or us.’ They shall be saved, if you | CHAPTER XVII. THE FLAG OF TRUCE. Genera S. nodded spprovingly. ‘*The scouts are just the men to make a sugges- tion, sir. They are used to Indians, and know how | to negotiate with them, better than we, whose duty is to fight them.” | Then he beckoned to California Joe, who was the nearest; and that personage came up at once, and | said, with one of his free-and-easy laughs: ‘‘ Waal | gin’ral, we got ’em, this time, and no mistake ef | they don’t try to break aout in the night. I didn’t take much conceit in what we was doing, till I seen the imps fairly caged: but naow I ruther calkilate we've got ‘em w’ar the har’s so short, they can’t git aout of a squeeze.” ae tng general put on his most freezing aspect, as he ** Joe, you are entirely too familiar. I want to consult you, and not to joke with you.” The face of the scout altered at once to an air of gravity, and he deliberately took out his pipe and be- gan to fill the bowl, saying placidly: “Fire yle gin’ral. e and you is old friends, ye know, and it don’t take long fur us to make up What's the trouble?” The general, who was vaturally, and by acquired habits, the most dignified, if not stiff, of men, bit his lips at the free-and-easy, way in which the scout acted; but he knew that Joe could not be daunted, and he began at once: : “The family of Mr. Vance is in the hands of the Indians; and some white men, I hear, are with them. | If we attack the place, what, in your opinion, will | be the fate of the prisoners?” Joe looked him steadily in the eye, and then glanced uneasily at Vance. * Look-a-hyar, gin’ral,’’ he said. ‘‘ You don’t need to ax me that question; fur you know, as well as I do, what ‘ll happen. The Injuns ‘ll fight like so many wild-cats, and, when they find the jig’s up, they’ll jest take it aout of the pris’ners. ‘*T don’t like to talk that way, afore the tootenant, hyar; ‘cause it’s his folks is thar; but thar ain’t no ttin’ over facks.”” George listened with a pale face. He had known it all the time; but the plain way in which Joe Pape caused his heart to feel like a lump of lead in his breast. Joe noticed the gloom of his face, and went on: ‘But that ain't to say, gin’ral, that the ladies can't be got aout of the hands of the imps, when the thing’s properly managed. Injuns is men, jest the same as we air; and they don’t want to git killed, no more'n wedo. Thar’sa way to git them prisoners.” ‘* and what is it?” asked George anxiously. Joe made no answer till he had drawn a match from bis | pocket and lighted the indispensable pipe. Then he | uffed slowly for nearly a minute, during which the | ine officers watched him in silence, and at last ** You oughter know, gin’ral. Thar’s only one way to Rit au Injun to give up a prisoner. You must buy’em if you want *em.” Oki S. nodded. “T know that. But in this case, we have one ad- vantage we do not usually have. We have got their whole force into a trap, and they ought to be glad - to be let out, if they give up the prisoners, ow does that strike you, Joe?" Joe shook his head. ts at’em in a night attack? I ain’t sayin’ but what the new men would fight; but ~y ain't like the old ones, and the Injuns might gitupastampede. If you want togit them prison- ers, it’s my apinion that some one oughter go to the Injuns, and git up a talk with ’em. what to ex Then we'll know Gabe the Tuk of Caine?" axked the WW RO |} e the of go ‘ e gen- 1 gravely. “You know, Son that Indians are not & flag of truce,” a Po + “1 -will go, general, it you have no objection.” George earnestly. ‘it is my affair, and no one else’s.._I an Feady to take a flag to the Indians, and ; auyt - 0-save my family."’ ed | choice of uther eend; and whar’s yer sogers, when California Joe’s War Trail. but thar ain't no more use, your gwine, than ef you was nobody at all. You don’t unnerstand a word of thar langwidge, and they mou’t fool you out of everything, and keep you, inter the bargain onless ye had some one with ye, that understood the var- mints.” ‘““Who, then, will go with me as interpreter?” asked George desperately. “I cannot stay in this | state of uncertainty any longer.” The scout took a long puff of his pipe, the old gen- | eral watching bim keenly ail the while out of the cor- ner of his eye. Hedid not seem disposed to speak for | some time; but at last he said: * Lootenant, thar ain't more’n one chance in a | hunnerd, that we'll come aout of this scrape with our sculps; but, ef you want to take the risk, I'll go with ye, too.” General 8. smiled with grave approval. “* Joe,” he said, ‘you have done as I knew you would. If you succeed in your mission I will see that you are rewarded for the risk you run. Itis a noble action you are about to do; for the family of Mr. Vance is nothing to you.” ‘* Begging your parding, general,” said the scout, * it’s a good deal, Lootenant Vance and me, we’ve fit Injuns together, as might be, and I promised him I'd bring him belp. He got out of the hobble afore the help come; but, all the same me and him’s got to see the hull programme through; and that’s why I’m gwine with him. Ef you'll let us have a bugler and a flag, general, I'll be obliged to ye.” ““You shall have anything you want, Joe; and, if it is necessary to pitas a reward for the prisoners, your promise shall be made good.” “ Thankee, gin’ral. I'll do the best I kin fur the guv’nment.’ Then Joe turned to Vance, to say: “Now, lootenant, thar’s One thing I want unner- stood, and that is that J’m to do all the talkin’ fur the two on us, I unnerstand Injuns, and you don’t; that’s what’s the matter.” ‘I’m perfectly willing to be guided by you.” George said: “ but there is a white man with them, an officer of the Confederate service. He may want to treat with me directly.” “Then you kin tell him that J'm the man, comes from Gin’ral 8.; and that when the gin’ral give the biz inter my hands he meantit, That's flat, looten- ant. Ef I’m to do this, I’ve got to do it alone.” “ Joe is right,” put in the general. ‘‘This Con- federate officer, whoever he is, can have but a hand- ful of men with him, and can have no voice in the negotiations. Joe understands the Indians, and it ae that we are treating with, and not the rebels.” Joe nodded an emphatic indorsement of the senti- ment, observing approviugly: “That's the talk, gin’ral, and don’t nobody go to furgittin’ of it.” Then he brought up his mule, and said to George, as coolly as if going for a ride: ‘* Whenever you're ready, lootenant, Tam. * Gin’- ral, ef the bugler and flag was hyar, I’d go naow.” General 8. called up a bugler, and a white flag was hastily made up from a handkerchief on a pole, which George took in his hand, when the two adven- turers, accompanied by the bugler, who did not seem to like his mission at all, rode out from the main body of the little army. and proceeded straight toward the entrance of the bad lands, As they neared the place. Joe kept his eyes roving over the defenses, and said to Vance in a low tone: “ Ef they feels ang og ugly they'll be mighty apt to fire at us ana not let us come in at all, lootenant. It’s a resky thing we're doin’ and *tain’t no use de- nyin’ it. Look at that, now!” He B pteny to the head of an Indiar, which was raised over the edge of the ravinein front, apparent- ly to take a survey of the party that bore the flag. “Ef that red varmint don’t fire at us, he wants to talk, lootenant,”’ said Joe. The nearer they got, the more nervous did the bugler become; for he was but a boy, and this was his first fight. ; The scout observed his pale face, and said, in an encouraging tone; “Don’t git skeered, sonny, They won’t shoot at you, while thar's better game to be faound. Thar, we've gone fur enough. Naow toot yer horn.” They halted, and the bugler raised his instrument, blowing a Jong blast. The sound had not died away when the Indian, whose head had been seen, came boldly out from the shelter of the ravine, and made the signal of amity, at which Joe observed: a AY; ay, that shows they see they’ve got in a hoel, lootenant. When you corner an Injun, he’s allers Sieg 4 to talk. Don’t go nofnurther. It’s my idee that the imps wauts to git us foul, yit, and they don’t do it, ef California Joe knows hisself.” He reined up his horse and made the counter sig- nal of amity, following it with the Indian sign, re- questing the other to come forward. The Indian replied by the same sign, and the scout said quietly: “ Jest as I thought, lootenant. They want us to come in, so they kin have us in tha’r power. Naow, we'll see who's master.” Vance did not understand the rapid succession of silent signals that followed between the Indian and the scout. ale CHAPTER XVIII. HARD BARGAINS. At last Joe said: “The varmint wants me to come in and see the big chief, and I tell him that [ want the big chief to come aout hyar. He says he'll go and see what the chief says. Between me and you, the big chief is right behind him, and it’s only a trick to gain time. Rpts boty a LEE alee EYES 13 oat they’ve got to come to aour tarms, or not at al ” The Indian, who had been carrying on the talk with bis hands, here disappeared in the bowels of” the earth, and there was a long wait, during which the young bugler got’ behind the two men who had brought fim with them, and Joe laugbed as he noticed the evidence of the boy’s fear. “*S-e byar, sonny,” he said, ‘ef the Injuns takes to firin’ at us, we’re all goners together, and it won’t save ye to git bebind no one. Heetykee a stiff up- per lip; for an Injun is mighty apt’to think more of a man, ef he does jt.” ‘*Let the poor*boy go back,” said George kindly. ‘He has nothing at stake, and is not used to such danger.” Joe shrugged his shoulders. ‘*He ain’t much use; that’s a fact, lootenant, naow that he’s done his tootin’; but ef we was to let him stir, we'd be mighty apt to git fired at. No tellin” what suspicious critters Injuns is, and they mou’t think he was gwine to bring up the rest of the boys. No, sir, as long as he’s come this fur, he mou'’t as; well stay. es! won't fire naow, or they’d ha’ did it, long ago. yar comes the big chief, ef I ain’t mistook.”’ As he spoke, they saw the heads of several men coming out of the ravine, and three dignified In- dians, with their tall war-bonnets on their heads their buffalo robes trailing on the ground, with, alf the stately trappings of the savage who wishes to make a great impression on another, came forward. accompanied by the Confederate captain, who wore his uniform. A]l four were on foot, and Joe scanned them: closely as they advanced. “Keep yer eyes peeled, lootenant,”’ he said, in am undertone, without looking toward George. “Git. your pistol ready, in your hand, to draw, ef thar's. the least sign of tha'r doin’ the same. Tell ye, ye can’t be too keerful with Injuns.”’ ; He stole his own hand down, and put his revolver ready to his hand, under his left thigh, as he sat im the saddle, and George followed his example, though he detected no sign of hostile intentions on the rd of the Indians, who kept their buffalo-robes folde@ over their breasts, their hands displayed, as if to: show that they were empty. Rhett strode forward by the side of the man in the center, and had his revolver in his belt, ready te his hand, though his rifle was belted to his back, so that it could not be used without a little time.” ‘* Now, lootenant,” said Joe, in the same cautious tone, as the Indians came nearer, “I’m to do the talkin’—remember. That feller in gray acts like he wanted to talk to you, cause you've got officer's duds on, so you must think over a way to fool. *T will tell him that I. have no powers to treat, and that all the negotiations must be made with you,”’ said George, reassuringly. Joe seemed to be satisfied with the answer, and im another moment the Indians came up, and Rhett opened the conversation by saying: * Well, Lootenant Vance, you can't complain that I didn’t treat you like a white man. If you've done with that mar’ of mine, I’d like to have her back again.” his was an unexpected tack, and George glanc- ed at the scout. z Joe nodded his head, as mnch as to say that the mare might be givenup and George said: ‘*T hardly anticipated that this would be the case, and brought no other horse. Will you let the bu~- gler go back and get me one?” Rhett hesitated. *T don’t see the necessity for that. We are om foot, as you see, and there ig no reason why you should be mounted. I want my mare.” George glanced at Jeo again, and the scout, with a smile, put in the remark: : “See hyar, Cap. ain’t you a leetle rough on the lootenant? We come hyar with a flag, to talk. and you ain’t accusing him of bein’ a hoss-thief, I hope. owe ain’t the way fur one white man to talk to an- other.” Rhett colored pow. “T was not speaking to you,” he said, “‘ but to this officer, Iam Captain Rhett, of the Confederate pe and I hold communication with officers only,” This gentleman is an officer also,” said Vance, who saw a frown on Joe's face. “He is chief of scouts for General S., who has sent him here with full powers to treat for surrender, I am merely a witness. As for the mare, here she is.” He dismounted as he spoke, and handed the bridle to Rhett, adding: “‘Tam very much obliged to you for having let. me take her, as she has undoubtedly saved my life, though probably that was not your intention.” Rhett cast a quick suspicious glance at the Indian chiefs with him, as if he feared that they would un derstand what was said, and replied hastily: “T didn’t le¢ you take her, man. You fook her, and of course I can’t blame you forit. But I never told you to take her, and if you were not here under a flag of truce, I would say you stole her; for that. is the fact.” George smiled sli ne for he saw that the other was in a dilemma, for fear his allies should find out that he had been more merciful than they, He said no more, but withdrew to one side, left Joe to continue the interview, in a way to himself. ‘ Ba The scout, as soon as the mare had been given up, addressed himself to the Indian chiefs. who had been standing like statues during the short dispute, saying not a word. ; e spoke rapidly, in the tongue of the Sioux, and
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14 a i ho to be doe sta, some proposition, to which ‘they listened reve sf but manifested no sign of approval or disapproval. hett listened, in a way that showed he did not sunderstand what was going on, and at last spoke out impatiently: ‘Look hyar, you, sir, whoever you air—”’ ‘‘ Galiforny Joe, at your sarvice,” said Joe, in the most polite way in the world. *‘ What kin Ido fur you, Cap?” “What are you telling these men? I don’t un- derstand their language, and the chief in the mid- dle talks as good English as I do. I ama part of this force, and I don’t want any negotiations going on, without I know what is asked for and granted.” “That’s easy told,” said Joe, placidly, ‘‘I’ve v'en tellin’ the chiefs that we’ve got ’em foul, and that we air willin’ to let ’em come aout, and fight vas on the squar’, or to suit themselves, but they amust oe up the white prisoners that you-’uns hev got, hid away in the bad lands ” Rhett shrugged his shoulders. “Tf that’s all, you can hev them, for all me. J don’t want them, But they won’t give them up to you, if they woul !n’t do it for me.” Joe smiled slightly. “Don’t be too sure, Cap. You ain’t included in ‘the surrender, you know. We ain’t treatin’ with you-’uns atall, We kin take keer of you. Haow many men hev you got to meet aour force? Not enough to stop one of aour comp‘nies, It’s the In- -juns we talk to, and nobody else,” “Then we may as well break off the talk, right hhyar,” said Rhett angrily. ‘My aliies won’t desert ‘me, lam sure; and the proposition is an insult.” So ‘saying, he turned on his heel, and was walking away in dudgeon, when the chief, who had been by his side called out in English: ‘Hil Stop! Injun talk! Gray man no good talk! Get plenty, much heap blanket, whisky, gun, pow- der, all sort, if give up white squaw. Stop!” Then he turned to his comrades, and spoke, for the ‘first time since the interview had commenced, with ‘much gesticulation, as if he was expatiating ou the offer he had received from the scout. They listened, ‘in the same stolid fashion as before, but Vance and Joe, who were watching them intently, saw, from the gleam of their eyes, that their avarice was roused ‘at the prospect of being bribed heavily to give u the prisoners. Joe, whenever the Indian eitibnd ‘would. put in a word in the Sioux language; which ‘had its effect to banish their scruples, and at last the man who had done the most talking turned to Rhett, -and took him aside, as if to have a private talk with him, and overcome what scruples he might have against the proposition. California Joe, when Rhett had gone off, said to ‘George Vance: ‘‘IT reckon the whisky fetched ’em, lootenant. It fetches a heap of Injuns.” ‘What have you promised then ?” asked Vance. “*T promised to give ten blankets for each of the ‘men and women, a barrel of pork fur each man ex- try, and two more apiece furthe women, You know, ‘tootenant, they want to be paid high fur women folks, fur they’ve found out we don’t like our women ill-treated. Then we're to give ten rifles, and a bar’l of powder, with a chunk of lead, as big as a man’s ‘head, % boot, fur the hull party; and when that didn’t fetch, I threwin a batr’lof whisky, to make ‘things squar’. I reckon they'll give up the pris'ners, and all's well that eends well.” He heaved a deep sigh as he spoke, the only evi- ence of the anxiety that he had been suffering dur- ing the negotiation, and added, in an undertone: ‘T didn’t think we'd git sich terms; but the walk- a-heaps has skeered ’em mightily, and that’s a fact, r they wouldn’t have gi’n up so te The consultation between the Indians and Rhett here closed, and the Confederate captain came for- ‘ward, to say, with an appearance of great cordial- iy: “The thing is settled, Lootenant Vance; and I’m glad of it.” CHAPTER XIX. THE SURRENDER, GEoRGE VANCE bowed silently, for he did not know what * the thing’ was, and had promised not to in- ‘terfere with California Joe. He did not even ask what the terms were; but Joe relieved his suspense by talking at once, “The thing’s setiled this-a-way, lootenant. The Injuns says that if we wants to treat with them, we must let these Confed’rit gents, what's friends of tha’rs, go free; and I’ve said they kin. Fu'st, they air to have time to git a good start on the other side | of the bad lands, and we air to bring the goods hyar before the mouth of the gulch, so that the Injuns kin see they ain’t to be cheated of tha’r g , ‘But the prisoners—where are they to go?” asked Vance eagerly, without thinking. California Joe frowned slightly, as if the question, before the Indians, displeased him. “The prisoners,’’ he said, ‘‘air to be brought to the same place, and ge up to us when the goods is delivered, and not before. They air to be put in plain sight, and git back all they had when they was took, arms and all, so that thar mayn’t be no foul play. But the Injuns won't give ’em up till they see the goods. As many Injuns as wants to scoot kin do so while the goods is bein’ delivered, but not arter that. The fightin’ is to stop till the prisoners is delivered, but arter that, both par: ties kin wade in all they wanter. That’s the best ‘tarms we could git, lootenant; and naow, the sooner B git back to the gin’ral, the better it will be us. George saw from the expression of his face that California Joe’s War Trail. he wanted to get away from the Indians for some reason or other, and the young man took the hiat and walked off. The Indians followed his example, and California Joe remained in bis saddle watching them till Vance had attained a safe distauce. Then he said to the little bugler: “‘ Naow, sonny, scoot the best ye know haow!” The boy needed no second bidding, and galloped away aftcr the officer, Joe following more leisurely, aud frequently looking back, as if he feared some- thing from his rear. When he at last put spurs to his mule and rode into the presence of the troops, he went up to Gen- eral S. and held a short but animated consultation Mien him before George Vance could get up to them, When the young officer came up, he heard the old general say: “ Well, Joe, I pee gre that you should have your own way, and I shall keep my word; but I'll have no risks taken.” ‘*Thar ain’t no resk abaout it, gin’ral,”’ said the scout earnestly. ‘‘It’s the on’y way we kin git an inside holt on the varmints, and beat ’em at tha’r own game. I tell ye, gin’ral, ef ye let ‘em off this time, thar won’t be no livin’ on the plains fur an or’nary white man. Thar’s enough stuff in the wagons to do it ten times over, and then we'll have ’em squar’. Cap Colville kin do the hull biz easy.” The general frowned and twitched, as if uneasy in his mind, but he said, in a resigned sort of way, as he turned bis horse: ‘Well, if harm comes of it, we shall have the infantry to fall back on, I'll do what, you advise; but I won't have any fighting if it can be helped.” George was puzzled and alarmed at the myste that appeared to exist between the general and his trusted chief of scouts; but he was more alarmed when California Joe took him to one side and told bim what was the scheme on hand. ‘*Lootenant Vance,” be said, in a manner that showed more gravity than George had ever seen him exhibit before, ‘thar’s a_ heap more deviltry a-goin’ on than you think of. Them Injuns is made up tha’r minds fo git squar* with you fur havin’ got the best of ’em, and they think they’ve pulled the wool over my eyes, too. But ef all goes as I want it, they ain’t gwine to fool us so bad.”’ Then he told him that he had detected a sign from one of the Indians to another, that he had known as belonging to a secret society that exists on the plains, something in the order of the secret societics of civilization, and of which he, California Joe, had been made a member years before. This sign, recogrized, had put him in communication with the Indians at once, in a way that nothing else could have done, and had gained their confidence. He had ascertained, from this beginning, that the Indians were tired of their white allies, and wanted to get rid of them, so the Confederates were to be allowed to retreat unmolested. : They were willing to give up the prisoners for the handsome bribe offered them; but Joe felt sure, from the way they acted, that there was some treacherous design concealed behind all this, and that. unless the soldiers were prepared to storm the ravines, on the first sign of treachery, there would be trouble. “The eend of it all is this, lootenant,”’ he added, “'The gin’ral he’s gwine to go back and git up the wagons, with the goods for the Injuns; and the ealv’ry is to come up, as close as the officers dar’ take ‘em, while the Injuns is gittin’ aout on the plains, We're to go in as they come aout, and that’s the place whar the Injuns hopes to ketch us nappin’. That’s the very place whar we is to ketch them, if we work the thing right. Naow, lootenant, air you grit?—I don’t mean that, nuther, fur I know ye air, or ye wouldn’t have did what ye have—but air ye reel grit, to stand in the middle of a crowd of Injuns, all alone, while they bring sout yer father and mether, and trust me to bring help, when the red devils makes a rush, as th’ur’ gwine to do?” “T think [am,” said George slowly; “ but tell me what it is you expect.” “T expect that the Injuns will bring aout the prisoners and git tha’r goods fur them, and then while the sogers is away, to raise a muss, and git back the prisoners, arter they’ve took the goods inter the ball lands. That’s wha ’s the scheme, as nigh as I kin make aout, and the man that stands by the prisoners will have a mighty good chance of losin’ his skulp, Lootenant, ye see I don’t deceive ye. Ef you air skeered to take the job, Tli take it myself; but I’ve got to bring in the boys, at the proper moment, and you c’u’dn’t jedge that as well asm:” V-uce compressed his lips as he answered: ‘ “It needs no excuse, Joe. If there is a man in the world whose business it is to stand by his father ae mother, and keep them from danger, it is my- self. The scout stretched out his hand: P “ Lootenant, you're good grit; and thar ain’t many men, as J’re found in the world, that air, I’lldothe best I kin: but I ain’t sayin’ but what the resk is a great one.” Then he handed George both the revolvers out of his belt, saying: ; “They'll put the pill war they're hilt, lootenant; and that’s more’n you kin say fur eter A pistol on the pains, Keep a stiff upper lip, and do the best ye n, while I do the rest.” ; Then he strode away, and George noticed that he had not said. as be had when he first met him, that he would “bring help in time.” The danger, what- ever it might be, appeared to be one that even the prescience of the veteran scout eould not provide against. dition making three in all, and walked out of the camp toward the ravine, as he had been told by oe. The Indians had all departed from the ravine in his front, to all appearance, and he eould see them streaming out of the other end of the bad lands, while the troops at that end of the trap, into which the Indians had been drawn, were being taken out of the way. _ Thus the advantage which General 8. had gained in a military point of view, by caging his birds, was now being thrown away, through the negotiations of California Joe; and Vance could not but see that the old general had made a great sacrifice, for the sake of getting the prisoners into his hands, alive But would they come in alive? That was the ques- tion which was, of all others, the most pressing in his mind, and he felt his beart torn with anxiety, as long asit hung doubtful in the balance. There was no sign of any one in his front: but he could not tell but what a hundred concealed marksmen were aiming at him, where he stood. Then he heard the rumbling of wagons, and saw several white-tilted vehicles, coming up toward the ravine in bis front. General S. had disappeared; but Captain Colville had brought the cavalry near by, and scattered it about the side of the bad lands, where the men had been dismounted, and were lounging about, near their horses, as if unconcerned spectators of what was zoing on. But as the wagons rumbled up, there was a change in the scene, as, first one and tv en quite a little periy of Indians, came out fr m the recesses of the bad lands, and seemed to be waiting for the arrival of the stores, with great eagerness. Colville rode up to Vance, and said to him, in a low tone, before the Indians could get near: “It is all left to you now. If they demand to have the stores issued, say that you can do notring till you see the prisoners.” Then the Indians came up, and Colville rode off, without giving any more specifie information, leav- ing George to face the brunt of the negotiation. t. Up came a big Indian, who said in broken Eng- ish: * Wantee whisky. Ugh!” “You can’t have 5 till I see the prisoners,” said George sternly. ‘Get out of here, if you don’t want to get hurt.” He threw off the savage with violence adding: ‘No prisoner, no whisky! Do you hear?” The Indian eyed him with glowing orbs for a second or two, as he was disposed to fight, there and then; but thought better of it, as he saw the resolute front of the young officer, and the weapons with which his belt was bristling. He withdrew, with an air of sullenness, and went back to his friends, while George waved his hand to the head wagoner, who was coming up, at which signal the man stopped at once, not by any means sorry, ap- parently, to have the excuse. The cavalrymen be- gan to move forward, near the ravine, as if witbout premeditation, and the Indian, who had been so familiar, burst out into a laugh, and cried out: “ White man ‘fraid too muchee! Here come white man and squaw.”’ He raised both hands to his lips, and uttered a long ery, which seemed to be a signal; for, at its sound, out of the ravine came quite a crowd of In- dians, and, in the midst of them, George saw, with an emotion he could not restrain, his father and mother and Mabel, all safe and sound, with honest Tom Biggs bringing up the rear. ; The start he gave, and the anxious expression on his face, was not lost on the keen-sighted Indians, watching them like cats, and the same man, who had before been so rude, came up to him with a smile on his face, saying, in the sweetest of tones: “ Wantee see squaw? Come in. No hurtee you. You big chief. Hey?” At another time George would have been sus- eigen of the sudden cordiality; but at the moment e was too much overe*me by the sight of his family to reason coolly, Without thinking what he was doing, he advanced, and his mother saw him and rushed forward to meet him, erving: “ George, George, my darling boy! Are you safe at last?” That cry made him forget everything else, and he walked quickly forward, the Indians etving way to him, with smiles on their faces, as he went into the be J they had set. e forgot what might be the danger into which he was running, till he found his mother’s arms round him, and heard the voice of Tom Biggs, ery: ing: R Praise the Lord! Halleluye! Halleluye! The lootenant’s safe, and we've got aour weepins, and a a darned skunks, ye don’t ketch us in a hoel again!” Then George heard the rapid gallop of a horse, and the voice of California Joe, yelling: } “Took aout, lootenant! The varmints is layin’ fur ye!” , Then he saw that the Indians were drawing pistols and bending bows. CHAPTER XX. INDIAN FAITH. Berore California Joe could reach the place where they were gathered, at the mouth of the ravine, a scream of terror from the lips of Mrs. Vance announced that enemies were in the. rear, and a storm of bullets came whistling over the heads of the people who were eagerly gazing atthe ° coming of the soldiers. Then there was a confused struggle, in which George Vance was only sensible that his mother was in danger. He saw the whole of the ravine full of Then Vance put the yistols into bis belt, the ad-
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2s Tndians, on foot, who were rushing on, firing as they came, while bis father, with his gray locks flying, and his eyes wild, was rushing before his wife, gun din hand. Before George could get clear of his mother’s entangling arms the old man had got infront of them all, and was firing his guo at the Indians, with a steady aim, that told on the dense group ahead, “with fearful effect. They dropped, one on the other; but the rest came on, and as the young man reached his father, hesaw the elder Vance stagger and fall, while a yell of triumph was saiacacl the savages, who came on like a tempest. George fired shot after shot by the body of his father, and heard the sound of a rifle by his side, as he felt a sharp pain, where a bullet struck him, The next minute the Indians were on him, and he _ firing right and left, with his revolver, into their aces. How the contest terminated he did not know: but the hadadim sense that the Indians were giving back, and that something else was transpirin round him, Then came a biank, and he felt himsel: falling, as it seemed to him, from a vast hight, with a shock that was terrible. Then all was dark, and he knew no more. When he opened his eyes, he was out in the prairie, with the blue sky overhead, and was sur- rounded by soldiers and scouts, while California | ag voice was saying, in a low, hushed way, near 1im, “ Better so. The old gentleman died like a man, and he wouldn’t wanter live, arter this.” Adim ideajthat something had happened made George open his eyes and try to raise his head, -~when he saw California Joe, in the midst of the scouts, a number of soldiers gathered, in a group, — something that was on the grcund, at their eet. With a great effort (for he felt stiff and sore, with a burning pain in his head) he rose on his elbow, and tried to speak: **Mabel—where is she? Joe, my God! killed her?”’ ‘Don’t ye worry over /ie7,”’ said the kind-hearted scout, soothingly, as he a yrvten the young officer, who was not able to stand alone yet. ‘‘The young lady warn’t hurt. She showed a darned sight bet- ter pluck nor some men. Arter the Injuns got you down, and was gwine to take yer skulp, she stood over your body and fired away, with a pa’r of revol- vers, as fast as a man c’u’d hev pulled the triggers. Lord love ye, lootenant, that’s a gal wu’th her weight in gold: she is.” “Where is she?” asked Vance, gb Then there was a movement in the group in front of him, and it opened, revealing a sight that brought a cry of amazement and agony from the young map. 2 There, on the were stretched t blankets. The sight seemed to give him strength to go for- ward, leaning on the arm of the faithful Joe, and ‘the girl caught sight of him as he came, She lifted her face, and he saw that it was deadly ale, “What is it? Have they ound, knelt Mabel, and by her ee bodies, covered with coarse ‘*Mabel,”’ he hoarsely whispered. What has happened ?”’ “Oh, George,” she said, in a dreary way, “I could not help it. I did what I could, but the Indians were too quick for me, We are alone now, dear. We ‘have made our journey in vain.” Then, as he stood bewildered, not yet understand- ing what she meant, she pointed to the dead bodies, covered with the blankets, and, ata sign from Joe, one of the scouts uncovered the faces. And then George Vance saw the pale, rigid feat- ures of his father and mother. while the honest lineaments of Tom Biggs lay beside them. Then he knew what she meant by their being “* alone together.” ‘ The soldiers, with the agra their rough but honest natures, withdrew, and the young mau, nerv- ed by his great sorrow to strength enough to stand, put away the arm of California Joe, and said, quietly: : _ ** Leave us alone for awhile, if you please.” Then he went to Mabel’s side, and put his arm round her, saying: “We are all alone, dear, you and I, but we are spared to share each other’s sorrow. Tell me, if you an, how it happened.” ) : She put her hand to her head in a bewildered way . at the question. “Tdon’tknow. I cannot tell. A!l I know is that I Saw the wretches coming, and you went to save our father. Then Isaw him fall by mother, and he Indians rushed to scalp them both. I saw you oing too, and I don’t know what it was made me, I id not think I could have done it, but I did. And then all { remember is that I stood there, firing as fast as I could. and then you went down, and I thought it was all over—” , Here she stopped and covered her face with her hands, shuddering so violently that he did not ask her any more, Presently she took her hands from her face and - said, in a low, faint voice: “T shall never be able to look on an Indian . again oonee shuddering. Oh, the cruel, merciless wretches “ Then let us come away,” he said, softly. ‘ This is no place for you, and, now the soldiers are up, I will attend to the rest.” He raised her, feeling strangely strong as he did Bye bullet, and he tied conc ped fog ine injure by the . esca fur:her in e sudden irruption of the oon and soldiers, who es California Joe’s War Trail. had rushed into the ravine pell-mell after the re- treating Indians. As they turned to leave the spot he cast the first glance he had been capable of taking over the land- scape, and saw that the soldiers were round the bad lands at both ends, while the sounds of firing in the bowels of the earth showed that the battle was not over yet by any means. Indians in little groups were hovering about the prairie, and another long line of troops coming over the swell, glittering with bayonets, round the white wagons, California Joe was watching the Indians with a keen regard, but as the young officer turned away from the bodies, supporting the lady, the scout came forward, to say respectfully: “The gin’ral’s ambulance will be along direckly, lootenant, and the lady won't hev to walk. Hyar it comes naow.” He pointed to a six-mule team that was coming at a gallop over the plain, drawing an ambulance, escoried by a troop of horsemen, and in a short time it dashed up, and the face of General 8. looked out, while the owner of the face demanded, sternly: “ Where is Captain Colville? How dared he diso- bey my orders?’ California Joe winked at the other scouts, as he answered: “T were near the cappen, gin’ral, and] kin sw’ar we didn’t hyar no orders, arter the ones you give at startin’.’’ The old officer stared at Joe with a stern face, but the unabashed scout returned the glance without wavering; and the general continued: * Where is he? Can’t you answer?” “Reckin the cappen is out yonner, at the other eend of the bad lands, gin’ral. We had a high old time gittin’ in at this eend. and we wouldn't hev did it, as it was, ef it hadn’t been fur Lootenant Vance, hyar, and his party, that fou’t ’em like heroes. We've give ’em a good whippin’ this time, gin’ral, and no mistake. Ye needn’t be afeard to trust the caly’ry boys no more naow. They’ve had what the deacons calls tha’r baptizement of blood to-day.” The old general listened with more patience than might have been expected from a man of his haugh- ty and irascible temperament. As Joe mentioned the young officer, he turned his glance on Vance, and then on the girl by his side. ‘*And who is the lady, then?’’ asked the old gen- eral, doubtfully. CHAPTER XXI. CONCLUSION. GrorGe Vance himself answered the query, with an air of some stiffness. “The lady is my cousin and promised wife, Miss Fay, general. I will only ask you to provide for her safety. and then permission to go on with your men and finish the campaign against those Indians in the bad lands, I have been through them and know where to strike,”’ The general looked at him, with the blood not yet dried on the side of his face. ‘* But you are in no condition to fight to-day. You are wounded.” “IT can fight as well as any one, and I am going to fight, if only for one thing, general.” “And what is that, sir?” Vance pointed to the bodies that lay near by. = 'To dies, x the murder of my father and mother,” he answered. The old general started violently. ‘Good heavens, and I did not once and have them taken to the rear out of danger. Sir, I apologize. You shall go where you please, Spd I will see that the lady is taken the best care re) Ng And the general began to bustle about like a man of twenty, leaping out of his ambulance and giv- ing erders to everybody near by, while Vance turned to California Joe, and said in a low tone full of meaning: *Now I am ready. We have waited too long. Let us not give a man in those ravines a chance to escape.” California Joe nodded as one well pleased, and led the way into the ravine that had proved so fatal to the Vance family. : As they went, pes | wage iee by a quantity of aban- doned weapons, and the scout remarked: “We come in, jest in timé, That No’ Ca’liny man fit like a good one. He’twas that got in front of the ‘lady, when they was almost a-ketchin’ of her, and give it to’em good, with that old shotgun of his’n. Say, lootenant, d’ye know what his last words was to me when we found him, all shot to pieces, with all them dead Injuns raound him?” No,” said Vance, absently. “Says he, as we come up and passed him, and the reds gwine lke sixty—says he, a-wavin’ of his old gun, says he—* Shoiguis forever! Haow's that, Tennessee?? And with that, he were gone. I tell ye what it is, lootenant. thar air a good many as dies in tha’r beds, don’t desarve Heaven half so much as that man. He didn’t squeal onst; he fit like a hull team of wild-cats; and that’s the kinder man to tie to, in this world or the next. Hyar the varmints air, at last.” The sound of rapid firing in front announced that they were coming nigh the scene of conflict, and, in a few minutes more, they had turned the corner of a Date, £06 saw the space. in front, full of men in blue, lying down and firing their carbines; while the incessant flashes of fire-arms, on the other side, and the whistle of bullets round their ears, as they ad- vanced, showed that the Indians, who had taken refuge in the bad lands, were making a stubborn de- fense, in spite of the odds against them. if | be “How many do you suppose got in here?” asked Vance, as he threw bimself down in shelter, and brought to the front a rifle he had picked up. ** Abaout a hunnerd; not more, I shed say, but the cusses fight like a streak, ef ye give ’em a place to hide tha’r heads.” It was California Joe who spoke, and his eyes were roving over the field, ail the time, trying to dis- cover something at which he could fire. They lay there for near an hour, without any change in tke aspect of things, when a noise behind them caused Joe to say: * Look aout, lootenant; hyar comes the walk-a- heaps. Naow we'll see fun, you bet.” George Vance looked back, and saw infantry sol- diers coming along the path, at the botiom of the ravine, As they reached the line where the cavalry dis- mounted men were lying, they threw themselves down by their sides, and Vance asked the officer who accompanied them: ‘* What are you going to do?” “We've got to drive the red devils out of the bad lands,” was the answer, in a grumbling way. “T wish the old general had to do it himself. He wouldn’t be so ready to tell other men.”’ The officer was a green young man, who had never been in action before; and Vance, to comfort him, observed: “It won’t be so difficult as you might think, There are only about a hundred of them, and the troops have them surrounded. If the general told you to drive them out from this side, you may know that he has men on the other side, as well as this.” The young man nodded his head, gloomily. “ Ay, ay, that is all very well for you, but I guess you won't share the rush with us. You scouts don’t fancy this close work.” Vance frowned slightly. “You have made one mistake, young gentleman. I am an officer of the regular army; and when the advance is sounded, you will see me at the head of the men,” Almost as he spoke, a violent fire was raised at the other side of the Indians, and the officer of in- fantry shouted: ‘* Now, then, men, give them blazes!”’ He jumped up as he spoke, and fell, almost at the word, with a bullet through his brain, when his men, who had risen, sunk again and refused to go for- ward till Vance leaped up, shouting: ; ‘* Follow me, then!”’ He led them on, in the midst of a tempest of bul- lets: but, at the same time, the noise in front grew louder and louder, and the whole of the Indians made their appearance in a disorderly mob, rushing toward them. From that moment the fight became a confused struggle, in which the Indians, atter they had emptied their guns, fought with their knives and lances, with the desperation of wild beasts, while the lines of soldiers, coming in from a!l sides, with bayonets and pistols, made the interior of the ravines a perfect pandemonium, for » while. At last it was over, and Vance found himself by California Joe, who was wiping the blood from his cheek, where it had been grazed by a knife, but the last of the Indians lay dead in the bottom of the . and the soldiers had full possession of the place. | Three weeks have passed since the great fight in know it! Here, | the bad lands, and the scene is changed to the in- some of you men, come and take up those bodies at | terior of Fort Blake, to which the volunteers, who went on the campaign, have returned, after such a chastisement of the |savages, for their outrages on the frontier, as kept them quiet for many a long year after. Cautious General S., who had been so much be- rated by the reporters for his slowness, and his re- luctance to trust the volunteers in the field, against men so much their superiors in individual fighting, had yet made his mark after all. The party that had taken refuge in the bad lands contained several chiefs and caged famous warriors, of whom most had been killed, while twenty surren- dered, in the hope of saving their lives, and were sentenced to be hung in the fort, in the presence of all the Indians who had not left their reservation to engage in the massacres. The execution of the twenty men, who were hung, did more to discourage the Indians from going on the war-path, than the death of three times the num- ber, by the bullet, in the bad lands, The war in Minnesota bad terminated almost as soon as it commenced, and was lost sigbt of in the reater magnitude of the battles and sieges going orward at the time in the Eastern States, but the memory thereof did not fade from the minds of the settlers in Minnesota for many a Jong year. From George Vance and his wife. for he and Mabet were married in the chapel of the fort, soon after their return from the front and the decent interment of the bodies slain in the battle—the trials and bloody ending of their perilous flight from Arkansas to Minnesota never faded into forgetfulness. George Vance lived to see many a stricken field, and rose to high rank in the volunteer service; but all the battles he went through, in the momentous conflict, never caused him to forget the time when he and his wife had seen their father and mother butchered before their eyes. To this day the name of an Indian causes the face of Mrs. Vance to turn paler, and her husband has moved away from the West, so that he may never again see one of the race that robbed him of all his family, in two short mmutes. THE END,
Page 16
H tea Rett Se oe BY EDWARD L. WHEELER. Deadwood Dick Novels. 1 Deadwood Dick, the Prince of the Road, 20 Double Daggers; or, Deadwood Dick’s Defiance, 28 Buffalo Ben; or, Deadwiod Dick in Disguise. 85 Wild Ivan, the Boy Claude Duval. 42 Phantom Miner; or, Deadwood Dick’s Bonanza, 49 Omaka O11; or, Deadwood Dick in Danger. 57 Deadwood Dick's Eagles; or, The Pards of Flood Bar. 78 Deadwood Dick on Deck; or. Calamity Jane, the Heroine, 77 Corduroy Charlie; or, Deadwood Dick’s Last Act, 100 Deadwood Dick in Leadville, 104 Deadwood Dick’s Device; or, The Double Cross Sign. 109 Deadwood Dick as Detective. 129 poem teh gate Dick’s Double; or, The Ghost of Gorgon’s nich. 188 Blonde Bill; or, Deadwood Dick’s Home Base. 9 A Game of Gold; or, Deadwood Dick’s Big Strike. 156 Deadwood Dick of Deadwood; or, The Picked Party, 195 Deadwood Dick’s Dreamy; or, The Rivuls of the Road. 201 The Black Hilla Jezebel; or, Deadwood Dick’s Ward. 205 Deadwoed Dick’s Doom; or, Calamity Jane’s Last Ad- venture. 217 Captain Crack-Shot, the Girl Brigand. 221 cueercoates Sam or, The Black Gown. 282 Gold-Dust Dick. A Remance of Roughs and Toughs, 268 Deadwood Dick’s Divides; or, The Spirit of Swamp Laxe. 268 Deadwood Dick’s Death Trail. 809 aanew oes Dick’s Big Deal; or, The Geld Briek of regon, 821 Deadwood Dick's Dozen; or, The Fakir of Phantem Flats. 847 Deadwood Diek’s Ducats; or, Rainy Days in the Dig- ings. ; 851 Deadwood Diek Sentenced; or, The Terrible Vendetta. 862 Deadwood Dick’s Cliim. 405 Deadwood Dick tn Dead City. 4f0 Deadwood Dick’s Diamonds, 421 Deadwood Dick in New Y¥ erk; or, A “Cute Care.” 480 Deadwood Dick’s Duat; or, The Chained Hand, 448 Deadwood Dick, Jr. 448 Nickel-Plate Neds or, Deadwood Dick Jr’s Defiance. 458 Sunflower Sam, et Shasta; or; Deadwood Dick Jr’a Full Hand, 459 Frias Fan, the Ferret; or, Deadwood Dick Jr’s Big Rennd- 465 Philo Fly, of Phenix; or, Deadwood Dick Jr’s Racket at Claim 10, 71 Bozeman Bills or, Deadwoed Dick Jr’s Corral, 476 Hueabelds Marry the Hurricane; or, Deadwood Dick Jr's etective. 481 Moll Mystery; or, Deadwood Dick Jr. in Deadwood. 491 Peince Pistol, the King of the West; or, Deadwood Dick r’s Compact. 496 Monte Cristo, Jr.: or, Deadwood Dick Jr’s Inheritance. fos berivert cee pegrecnss tet oro endwo ¢ eliv nee. 515 Deadwood Dick’s Protegee. 522 Deadwood Dick’s Three. 529 Deadwood Dick’s Danger Ducks, 584 Deadwood Dick’s Death Hunt, 589 Deadwood Dick Jr. tn Texas. 243 ennwond pi Jr. oe ae ae Vidoeg. cadwoo ck on ifis Mettle. 554 Deadwood Dick, Jr. in Gotham, 561 Deadwood Dick in Boston. 567 Deadwood Dick, Jr. in Philadefphia, 572 Deadwood Dick, Jr. in Chicago. 578 Deadwood Dick, Jr. Afloat. 54 Deadwood Dick, Jr. in Denver. 590 Deadwood Dick, Jr's, Decree, aoe Deadwood Dick J r ot eee Basin. eadwoo ck Jr. at Coney Island. 606 Deadwood Dick Jr’s Leadville Lay. 612 Deadwood Dick Jr. in Detroit. ; 618 Deadwood Dick, Jr. in Cincinnati, 624 Deadwood Dick, Jr. in Nevada. Other Novels by E. L. Wheeler. * 26 Cloven Hoof, the Buffalo Demon. 2 Bob Woolf or, The Girl Dead-Shot. 89 Death-Face, Detective; or, Life in New York. 45 Old Avalanche; or, Wild Edua, the Girl Brigand, 5S Jim Bludsoe, Jr., the Boy Phenix. 61 Buckhorn Bill; or, The Red Rifle Team, 69 Gold Rifle, the Sharpshooter; or, The Boy Detective, 80 Rosebud Rob i or, Nugget Ned, the Knight. 84 Idyl, the Girl Miner; or, Rosebud Rob on Hand. 88 Phetograph Phil; or, Rosebud Rob’s Reappearance. 92 Canada Chet ; or, Old Anaconda in Sitting Bull’s Camp. 96 Watch-Eye; or, Arabs snd Angels of a Great City. 118 Jack Moyle the Young Speculator. 117 Gilt-Edged Dick, the Sport Detective, 121 Cinnamon Chip, the Girl Sport. 125 Bonanza Bill, Miner. 188 Boss ob the King of Bootblacks, AL Solid Sam, the Boy Road-Agent. 145 Sateen ‘erret, the New York Detective; or, Boss Bob’s 088 JOD. 161 New York Nell, the Boy-Girl Detective. 177 Nobby Nick of Nevada; or, The Sierras Scampa. 181 Wild Frank, the Buckskin Bravo. 209 Fritz, the Bound-Boy Detective. 218 Fritz to the Front; or, The Ventril 226 Snoozer, tle Boy Sharp: or, The Arab 286 Apollo Bill, the Trail Tornado, 240 Cyclone Kit, the Young Gladiator. 244 Sierra Sam, tho Frontier Ferret. 248 Sierra Sam’s Seeret; or, The Bloody Footprinta 258 Sierra Sam’s Pardy; or, The Ange! of Big Vista. 258 Sierra Sain’s Seven; or, The Stolen Bride. 278 Jumbo Joe, the oy Patrol; or, The Rival Heirs, 27T Denver Doll, the Detective Queen. 2Si Denver Doll's Victory. 285 Denver Doll's Decoy ; or. Little Bill’s Bonanza, 291 Turk, the Boy Ferret. 296 Denver Doll’« Drift; or, The Road Queen, 299 A No. 1, the Dashing Toll-Taker. 808 ’Liza Jane, the irl Miner; or, the Iron-Nerved Sport, 825 Kelley, Mickey & Co., the Detectives of Philadelphia. B80 Little Quick-Shot; or, The Dead Face of Daggersville, 884 Kangaroo Kits or, The Mysterious Miner. 9 Kangaroo Kit’s Racket. os 848 Manhattan Mike, the Bowery Blood. 858 First-Class Fred, ‘he Gent trom Gopher. 868 Yreka Jim, the Gold-Gatherers or, The Lottery of Life 872 Yreka Jim’s Prize. j 878 Nahob Ned; or, The Secret of Slab City. 882 Cool Kit, the King of Kids; or, A Villain’s Vengeance, B85 Yreka Jim's Joker}; or, The Rivals of Red Nose. uist Hunter, etective, $50 eycle Bens or, The Lion of Lightning Lode, 89 reka Jim of Yuba Dam. 400 Wrinkles, the Night-Watch Detective. Jim k aad Pal, Private Detectives, § Santa Fe Sal, the Slasher. Sealekin Sau, the Sparkler. ~ BEADLE’S*HALF-DIME* LIBRARY. Published Every Tuesday. Each Issue Complete and Sold at tne Uniform Price of Five Cents. No Double Numbers. BY CHARLES MORRIS, 118 WII! Somers, the Boy Detective, 122 Phil Mardy, the Boss Boy. 126 Picayune Vete; or, Nicodemus, the Dog Detective, 180 Detective Dick; or, The Hero in Rags. 142 Handsome Harry, the Bootblack Detective, 147 Will Wildfire, the Thoroughbred. 152 Black Beas, Will Wildtire’s Racer. 157 Mike Merry, the Harbor Police Boy. 162 Will Wildtire tn the Woods, 166 Billy Baggage, the Railroad Boy. 70 A Trump Card 3 or, Will Wildtire Wins and Loses. 74 Bob Rockett; or, Mysteries of New York. 79 Bob Rockett, the Bank Runner, 88 The Hidden Hand; or, Wi!) Wildfire’s Revenge. 87 Fred Halyard, the Life Boat Boy; or, The Smugglers, 189 Bob Rockett; or, Driven to the Wall. 196 Shadowed 3 or, Bob Rockett's Fight for Life, 206 Dark Paul, the Tiger King. 212 Dashing Dave, the Dandy Detective. Tom Tanner; or, The Black Sheep of the Fleck, 225 Sam Charcoal the Premium Darky. 235 Shadow Sam, the Messenger Boy. 242 The Two * Bloods”; or, Shenandoah Bill and His Gang. by 4 Dick Dashaway ; or, A Dakota Boy in Chicago. 262 The Young Sharps: or, Rollicking Mike’s Hot Trail 274 Jolly Jim, the Detective Apprentice. 289 Jolly Jima Jobs or, The Young Detective, 298 The Water-Hound; or, The Young Theroughbred. 805 Veshawéy, of Dakota; or, A Western Lad in the Quaker : ity, 824 Ralph Ready, the Hotel Boy Detective. tl Tony Thorne, the Vagabond Detective. 858 The Reporter-Detectiye; or, Fred Flyer’s Blizzard. 867 Wide-Awake Joe; or, A Boy of the Times, 879 Larry, the Levellers or, The Bloods of the Boulevard, 408 Fire y Jack, the River-Rat Detective. $ The Lost Finger; or, The Entrapped Cashier, 428 Fred Flyer, the Reporter Detective. 482 Invincible Logan, the Pinkerton Ferret. 456 Billy Brick, the Jolly Vagabond. ; 466 Wide-Awake Jerry, Detective; or, Entombed Alive, 479 Detective Dodge; or, The Mystery of Frank Hearty, 488 Wild Dick Racket. 7 501 Boots, the Boy Firemans or, Too Sharp for the Sharper, 566 The Seeret Service Boy Detective. 596 Jimmy the Kid; or, A Lamb Among Wolves. BY OLL COOMES. 5 Vagabend Joe, the Young Wandering Jew. 18 The Dumb Spy. 27 Antelope Abe, the Boy Guide. 81 Keen-Knilfe, the Prince of the Prairies. 41 Lasso Jack, the Young Mustanger. 58 The Border King; or, The Secret Foe. 71 Delaware Dick, the Young Ranger Spy. %4 Hawk-eye Harry the Young Trapper Ranger 88 Rollo, the Boy Ranger. 184 Sure Khot Seth, the Boy Rifleman, 148 Sear-Face Saul, the Silent Hunter 146 Silver Star, the Boy Knight. 158 Eagle Kit, the Boy Demon. 168 Little Texas, the Young Mustanger. 178 Old Solitary, the Hermit Trapper. 182 Little Hurricane, the Boy aptain, 202 Proapect Pete ; or, The Young Outlaw Hunters. 208 The Boy Hercules: or, The Prairie Tramps. 218 Tiger Tom, the Texas Terror. 224 Dashing Dick; or, Trapper Tom’s Castle. 228 Little Wildfire, the Young Prairie Nomad. 288 The Parson Detective; or, The Little Ranger, 248 The Diaguixed Guide; or, Wild Raven, the Ranger, 260 Dare-Devil Dan, the Young Prairie Ranger. 272 Minkekin Mike, the Boy Sharpshooter. 290 Little Foxfire, the Boy Spy. 800 The Sky Demon ; or, Rainbolt, the Ranger. 884 Whip-King Joe, the Boy Ranchero. 409 Hercules, or, Dick, the Boy Ranger. 417 Webfoot Mose, the Tramp Detective. 422 Baby Sum, the Boy Giant of the Yellowstone, 444 Little Buck«kin, tne Young Prairie Centaur. 457 Wingedfoot Fred; or, Old Polar Saul. 468 Tamarac ‘Vom, the Big Trapper Boy. 478 Old Tom Rattler, the Red River Epidemle, 482 Stonewali Bob, the Boy Trojan, 562 Blundering Basil, the Hermit Boy Trapper. BY T. ©. HARBAUGH. 28 Nick o’ the Night; or, The Boy Spy of 76. 87 The Hidden Lodge; or The Littl: Hunter. 47 Nightingale Nat; or, Toe Forest Captains, 64 Dand ack j¢ or, The Outlaws of the regon Trait, 82 Kit Harefoot the Wood-Hawk. 94 Midnight Jack 3 or, The Boy Trapper, 106 Old Frosty, the Guide; or, The White Queen, 128 Kiowa Charley the White Mostanger. 189 Judge Lyuch, Jr,; or, The Boy Vigilante. 155 Gold Trigger, the Bperts or, The Girl Avenger 169 Tornado Tomy or, Injun Jack From Red Core, 188 Ned Temple, the Border Boy. 198 Arkansaw 3 or, The Quien of Fate’s Revenge. 207 Navajo Nick, the Boy Gold Hunter. 215 Captain Bullet; or, Little Tonknot’s Crnusade. 281 Plucky Phil; or, Ross, the Re! Jezebel, 241 Bill Bravo; or, The Roughs of the Rockies. 255 Captain Apolic, tne King-Pin of Bowie, 267 The Buckskin Detective, 279 Old Winch? or, The Buckskin Desperadoes. 294 Dynamite Dany; or, The Bowie Blade of Cochatopa. 802 The Mountain Detective; or, The Trigger Bar Bully. 816 Old Eclipse, Trump Curd of Arizona, 826 The Ten Pards: or. The Terror ot Take-Notice. 886 Big Benson; or, The Queen of the Lasso. 845 Pitiless Matt; or, Red Thunderbolt’s Secret. B56 Cool Sam and Pard ys or The Terrible Six, 866 Velvet Foot, the Indian Detective. 886 Captain Cutlass; or, Ihe Buccaneer’s Girl Foe. 896 Rough Rob; or, The Twin Champions of Blne Blazes, 411 The Silken Lasso? or, The Rose of Ranch Robin. 418 Felix Fox, the Boy Spotter. 425 Texas Trump. the Border Rattler. 486 Phil Flash, the New York Fox. ; 445 The City Vampires; or, Ked Rolfe’s Pigeon. 461 One Against Fittys or, The Last Man of Keno Bar. 470 The Roy Shadow; or, Felix Fox’s Hunt. 477 The Excelsior Sport; or, The Washington Spotter, 499 Single Sight, the One-Eyed Sport. 502 Branded Ben, the Night Ferret. 12 Dodger Dick, the Wharf-Spy Detective. 521 Dodger Dick’« Best Dodge. pan nel and pace Gio emery Sundin. r Dick, the Dock Ferret, 548 Do cer ck Double; or, The Rival Boy Detectives, 558 Dodeer Dick’« Desperate Case. 568 a il Dick, the Bey Vidocq. 578 The Two Shadows, 5S2 Do fc Dick's p. 594 Little Lon, the Street-Singer Detective. 610 Old Skinner, the Gold Shark; or, Tony Sharp on Guard, oo] 1 1 1 1 1 BY COLONEL PRENTISS INGRAHAM, Zz 4 irk 3 or, The Mystery of the Yellowstone. 2 The Shadow Ship; or, The Rivel Lieutenants, 5 The Boy Duelist; or, The Cruise of the Sea-Wolf, 102 Dick Dead-Eye, the Boy Smuggier. 111 The Sea-Devil 3 or, The Midshipman’s Legacy, 116 The Hussar Captain 3 or, The Hermit of Hell Gate, 197 Little Grit; or, ) meng the Steck-Tender’s Daughter. 204 Gold Plame; or, The Kid-Glove Sport, 216 Bison BAll, the Prince of the Reins. 222 Grit, the Brave Sport; or, The Woman Trailer. 229 Orimson Kate; or, The Cowboy’s Triumph. 287 Lone Star, the Cowboy Captain. 245 Merle, the Middy ; or, The Freelance Heir. 250 The Midshipman utineer; or, Brandt, the Buccaneer, a 264 pid Fleating Feather; or, Morle Monte’s Treasure ; sland. 269 The Gold Ship; or, Merle, the Condemned. 276 Berle Monte’s Cruise; or, The Chase of “The Gold Ship. ; 280 Merle Monte’s Fate; or, Pearl, the Pirate's Bride, 284 The Sea Marauders or, Merle Monto’s Pledge. 287 Billy Blue-Eyes, the Boy Rover of the Rie Grande. 804 The Dead Shot Dandy ; er, Benito, the Boy Bugler, 808 Keno Kit; or, Dead Shot Dandy’s Deuble. 814 oa Mysterious Marauder; or, The Boy Bugler’s Long rail. 877 Bonodel, the Bey Rover} or, The Flagless Schooner, 888 The Indian Pilot; or, The Search for Pirate Island, 887 Warpath Will, the Boy Phantom. 898 Seawalf, the Boy Lieutenant. 402 Isodor, the Young Conaptirator; or, The Fatal League, 7 407 The Boy Insurgent; or, The Cuban Vendetta. Mei 412 The Wild Yachtamans; or, The War-Clowd’s Cruise, } 429 Duncan Dare, the Boy Refugee. ¢ | 488 A Cabin Boy’s Luck; or, Tne Corsair. \ 487 The Sea Raider. 441 The Ocean Firefly; or, A Middy’s Vengeance. 446 Haphazard Harry ; or, The Scapegrace of the Sea 450 Wizard Will: or, The Boy Ferret of New York. 454 Wizard Will's Street Scouts. 462 The Born Gulde; or, The Saiior Boy Wanderer, 468 Neptune Ned, the Boy Coaster. A474 Flora; or, Wizard Will’s Vagabond Pard. 488 Ferrets Afloat; or, Wizard Will’s Last Case. A487 Nevada Ned, the Revolver Ranger. 495 Arizona doe the Boy Pard of Texas Jack, 497 Buck Taylors King of the Cowboys. 508 The Royal Middy ; or, The Shark and the Sea Cat. ea <i =<Se x = F ay oe oo = sith he 507 The Hunted Midshipman. 511 The Outlawed Middy. ? 520 Buckskin BILI, the Comanche Shadow. } 525 Brothers in Buckskin, 580 The Buckskin Bowers. 585 The Buckskin Rovers. 540 Captain Ku-Klux, the Marauder of the Rie. 545 Lieutenant Leo, the Son of Lafitte, 550 Lafitte’s Legacy: or. The Avenging Son. 555 The Creole Corsair. 560 Pawnee BIll, the Prairie Shadower, 565 Kent Kingdon, the Card King. 570 Camille, the Card Queen. 575 The Surgeen-Scout Detective, 580 The Outcast Cadets or, The False Detective. 5S6 The Buckskin Avenger. 591 Delmonte, the Young Sea-Rover. 597 The Young Texan Detective. 602 The Vagabond of the Mines, 607 The Rover Detective; or, Keno Kit’s Champions. 617 Ralph, the Dead-Shot Scout; or, The Raiders and the Red Riders of the Rio, ; BY BUFFALO BILL (Hon. Wm. F. Cody), 8 Kansas Kings or, The Red Right Hand. 19 The Phantom Spy: or, The Pilot of the Prairie, 55 Deadly-Eye, the Unknown Scout, 68 Border Robin Hood: or, The Prairie Rover. 158 Fancy Frank of Colorado}; or, The Trapper’s Trust. LATEST AND NEW ISSUES. 626 The Champion Pards; or, The Lucifer of Silver Bar, By T. C. Harbaugh. 627 Tom Bruce of Arkansasy or, The Wolfin the Fold. By Charles Morris. 628 Broadway Billy’s Dead Acts or, The League of the Sworn Seven. By J. C, Cowidrick. 629 Violet Vane, the Velvet Sport; or, The Jubilee of Jacktewn. By Wm. G, Patten. 680 Deadwood Dick, Jr. in NoMan’s Land; or, Golconda, the Gladiator. By Ed. L, Wheeler. 681 Tom Cat’s Terrible Task; or, The Cowboy Detective’s D Own Case. By Lieut. A. K. Sims, Ready August 27. 4 682 The Dead Detective’s Double. By Gerald Carlton, am Ready September 3, ¥ 8 Plucky Paul, the Boy Prospector; or, The Deadwood Des- - piredo's Last Innings. By J. W. Osbon Ready September 10. 84 Cache Carl, the Chico Giant; or, The True Hearts of Red Ms Eye Roost, By Buckekin Sam. Ready September 17, 685 Oklahoma Hi, the Blue Coat Scout; or, The Boomers Last Battle. By P. 8. Warne. Ready September 24. A New Issue Every Tuesday. The Half- Dime Library ¢ for sale by all newsdealers, five conta per copy, or sent by mall on receipt of six cents each, BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William Street New York.