Beadle's Half Dime Library (no. 51) (1878 07 16)
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Single Number. ee 3 No. 98 WILLIAM STREET, NEW YORK. OR, The Underground Camp. A Romance of the Red River of the North, BY ARCHIE C. IRONS. CHAPTER I. A RIVER RACE. “Wet, Fred, part at least, of our dream is real- ized, for we are ‘In the Land of the Dacotahs—are actually standing on the banks of that famous, romantic stream, the Red River of the North.” _ The speaker, Albert ington, stood balancing himself on the crest of a rock, and gazing off over the bright sheet of water that lay below, and that rippled alo: in the bright, morning su ht, seeming to sing a song of welcome to the two boys standing on its banks; one with cap in hand, and his dark yorkie 3 hair blown back from his forehead by the breeze that reached him in his elevated sition; the other fair-hair and fair-skinned who leaned listlessly against a tree a few feet below, seeming- ly oblivious to everything save the river flowing at his feet. He was not over sixteen, and his face still held its boyish look, and was soft and smooth as a girl’s. Though his dress was not rich, it was strong and durable, and was fancifull ornamented with strips of col- ored fur. The belt about his waist which confined his clothes, so as to show his lithe, sinewy form in all its perfectness, held a handsome silver-mounted revolver, belt size, anda buckhorn-handled hunting-knife in a neat sheath was in close proximity to it. On the other side was a light hunting-hatchet with the handle through a loop attach- ed to the belt. In short, from the cartridge-box at his side to the double, breech-loading rifle in his hand, he wasa boy's ideal of a “ full-rigged ” hunter. His companion’s voice arous- ed him, and turning, he clam- bered up the rough sides of the a 3 he mecnes the crest. * Yes; and it’s more - ficent than niyéiine Ted dreamed of. Look at that big, steep rock on the other side. It’s straight up and down, and up-stream from it are the coziest woods imaginable. I'll bet you there’s no end to the deer that hide in them, ” and Fred's boyish face w ani- mated as he thought of the grand fun in store. Now that they stood close together you saw what a wide difference there was in the two. Their dress was similar, and their accouterments iden- tical. Albert was twenty-one ears of age, and was half a head taller than Fred. His coma was clear and ruddy, and his face manly d withal. A very ‘slight mus- | } | | | / ; tache, jet black in color, ornamented his upper lip, but the rest of his face was cleanly shaven. The two made a handsome picture against the dark background of green. “T wonder where Ranty and Will are?" said Albert suddenly. ‘‘ They'll be to camp before we are if we don’t hurry up.” The wind breezed up strong as he ceased speaking, swaying the trees across the river till their tops fair- ly danced in the bright sunshine. And at the same instant the distant report of a rifle came to them from up the stream. “There! exclaimed Albert, suddenly. ‘That must be they, now! And it must be Ranty, himself, ad - said he was going that way on his own ook,”’ “No it ain't,” said Fred, decidedly. ‘I know the crack of Ranty Hazelton’s gun better than that. Nor it wasn’t Will, either. I’ll bet you it’s Indians. You know that old trapper at the settlement told us we'd see more Indians than anything else if we come off up in here.” THE RECONNOITER. The young man did not reply to his companion at that instant. Somet had come on the air that sounded like a faint shout. He could not tell for certain, it was so far off and indistinct, but his ears did not deceive him, for a moment after it was repeated, followed by a second rifle-shot, and a perfect chorus of shouts that seemed to echo from bank to bank, and from bend to bend e ee river, till it finally died away among the ills. The ae looked at each other in bewilderment for a brief second, then Fred said: “Tt must be Indi Albert. What if they should see Ranty and Will? Hark! hear them shout! They are coming down the river, too!” “Yes, and we must get out of this. Do you see that thicket right above us here, that almost over- hangs the bank? That will be a capital place to hide and we will be where we can see. With one accord the two sprung down from the rock, and ran with the fleetness of deer along the brow of the bank, When they had gone a hundred yards, they reached the thicket and halted. The bank here was very steep, and from where they stood it was nearly one hun- dred feet to the water's edge. A perfect network of scrubby rs lined it from top to bot- tom, and scarce a ray of sun- light could pierce their thick n foliage. At the brow of e bank was a thick cluster of small pine and white oak trees, and in this the boys halted. % Mins gy. ne2 view from here,” said Albert, peering out from between two low-limbed pines. ‘We can see the river over the tops of these cedars till it gets almost under us. They are certainly coming down it, and we'll soon see who and what they are.” The shouts continued at in- tervals, and each time seemed nearer than before. The boys lay quiet in their hiding-place, and watched and waited. While they could command an unobstructed view of the river for some distance, it would re- uire a keen eye to detect them, screened as they were on all sides by the thick foliage. The shouts grew plainer and ager The boys strained heir eyes to catch the first glimpse of the comers when they should oe They were evidently following down the river and were yet some distance off. Albert drew himself up among the limbs of one of the small pines to enable him to see over a low, bushy treetop that overhung the river on the point of a bend some distance up. He had been up there but a moment when Fred heard a muttered exclamation from him, and looked up. Albert was shading his face with his hand, and his black eyes were intently fixed on a point above where Fred could see. “What is it?’ he asked in a whisper. “‘ Do yousee them?” “It's Ranty, as sure as you live!’ answered Albert, exci- tedly. ‘“‘He’s coming down the river in a canoe, and a- paddling as if the Old Nick was ter him! There he comes; see?”’
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2 Beadle’s HalfDim As he spoke a light canoe rounded the river, bend, and came swiftly down-stream. It contain- ed’but a single occupant, a boy, and he was paddling, as” Albert had said, as if the ‘ Old Nick” was after him, . He was near the center of the stream, which at this pons was nea two hundred yards wide, but as he approached he swung off toward the op- posite bank as if about to land. “It is Ranty!"’ exclaimed Fred, “and the Indians are after him, too. See him! he goes like the wind! But where did he get the canoe?” ‘Tt must be one of the Indians’, I Fred, we must let him know we are here! He's getting almost opposite us, but he’s going to.land en the.other side. I’m going to climb this tree, and signal to him!” Reaching his rifle to Fred, Albert worked his way rapidly up som the limbs, Having. reached a good position, he drew from an inside pocket, a joint- ed wiping-rod. preeg: his handkerchief firmly about the end of this, he put his hand to his lips and blew a long, shrill whistle, and as it echoed across the water, he reached his arm out from the limbs, and waved the rod with the handkerchief at ched. The occupant of the canoe heard and saw, and with a single stroke of the paddle, turned his craft, and came scudding swiftly toward the high bank. But before he had gone a dozen lengths a howlin of hoarse voices Came over the water, and roun the bend scarce a quarter of a mile appeared a dozen canoes filled with Indians, that commenced rapidly lessening the distance that lay between. Without a second’s hesitation the boy whirled his canoe, and put back toward the bank at the spot where he had first intended to land. In_ten seconds his canoe struck, and springin out he sent the boat adrift, and. with a dakane ye that echoed clear and long among the hills; he dis- appeared in the thick woods. “ Great Heavens!"’ exclaimed Fred, “ he is wound- ed! Did you notice how_he limped as he went into the woods? Albert he will be overtaken and killed! Oh, if we could only get across and help him!” A. chorus of. bleod-ehilling yells: from: a-score of dusky throats, echoed along the river as he spoke, Albert slid down the tree with a white face. “Heaven help him, Fred. . Thé Indians have found out that he is wounded. We must get across now, if we swim!” CHAPTER IL. THE FIRST SHOT. Tux two boys looked at each other for a moment almost undecided. But it was for a moment only. The next they were bounding along the brow of the bank down the stream. Suddenly their eyes caught sight of the canoe Ranty had set adrift. ‘Fred,”’ said Albert, decidedly, ‘‘we must that! There isa bend in the river ht below, and amass of drift-wood in the curve. 6! the canoe is already bearing toward it! If, we can get there in time, we can catch it!’ The boys strained every nerve as they flew along. The bend was fully three hundred yards down-stream from where they were, but they reached it some dis- tance ahead of the boat. The friendly cedars had screened their flight, and now the point of the bend hid them from the view of the savages. The light, birch-bark structure came dancing down the stream, the current steadily bearing it in toward the bank. Albert ran out on the furthest point of drift- wood, and made ready to grasp the canoe as soon as it should come within reach. So engrossed was he, and so fearful lest the frall craft should get by him that he did not look around, but of course supposed Fred was close behind him. The canoe whirled around in the eddy made by the drift-wood, retreated, balanced on a tiny wave, then swung inalittle nearer. Albert held his breath. The current was very swift immediately below, and he laid his rifle across some solid pieces of drift-wood and prepared to jump, should the canoe fail to come within reach. But, as if it had only been acting thus to tantalize hii», without really meaning to escape, the birch- bar. swung further in and the next moment was rocking geutly on a little spot of still water, its side grating against the huge jam of wood upon which Albert was standing. The youns man could searce- ly Eo hg a cry of satisfaction as he reached out his hand and grasped it firmly by aid, “We “Jump in, quick!’ he s haven’t an instant to lose!” There was no response, and for the first time he glanced behind, and over the drift-wood, His com- panion was not in sight! **Fred,’’ he called, in a subdued voice. ‘“ Fred Carter. Hurry, for Heaven's sake!” Still no response. A complete wall of foliage and vines overhung the water’s edge where they had just come to in, and rustled and swayed in the wind, which was now blowing quite strong. But no sound betrayed that any one was near. A sudden fear took possession of Albert. What could Fred have stopped for at such a time? Witha oat ul pull, he landed the canoe high and dry on 2 drift-wood, and catching up his rifle, bounded across from log to log, till he reached the shore. As his feet struck the bank, the sharp, whip-like crack of Fred's rifle, w.thin a dozen yards of him, brought him to a sudden stand, and the next instant #1 Savage, with a howl of pain, sprung from behind a tree and disappeared in the thick woods. “Tvun!” exclaimed Fred, as he came in sight and etree for the canoe. “There may be more close get the prow. in a low voice, “Eubert understood without further words, and in a m. ment they were both in the canoe, paddling rap- idi, coward the other shore, e Library. “T saw him just as we were starting out on the drift-wood,”’ said Fred, changing his position for one a little nearer the prow. ‘‘ You were a little ahead, cs know, and he didn’t see me at all, I crept be- nd two big trees that grew close together, and I could peek through and see him plain as day. He was mering for you to get still long enough for him to shoot. ButI had a bead on him from between the trees, and I could have shot him before he could you. Then when you started back he got further around behind his tree, and I couldn’tesee anything but his arms.” ‘ a there’s where you hit him!” exclaimed Al- rt. . ‘““Must have been, I guess. When he raised his gun to shoot, I let fly at his elbows. ! but how he yelled!: One of his arms was dangling at his side when he ran off, so I know it was broken.”’ The boys reached the bank, and springing out, they drew the canoe up under some low bushes, and then started up the stream-in the direction where Ranty had landed, bearing stealthily away from the river as they advanced. The wind, by this time, was blowing steady and strong, and in the same direction they were going. The shouts had long since, died away, and amid the soughing of the wind through the branches the re- port of a rifle would have been almost indistinguish- able two hundred yards away. The ground grew higher as they advanced, and the timber less dense, They had gotten out of sight of the river and were ascending a rocky slope, when some sound on the air caused them to pause. “Tt was surely something,” declared Albert, stand- : ing on tiptoe to look over a huge log that had fallen ee a an ee | grew a tall, slim tree that, denied the sunshine down the hill ‘‘ And it sounded from in front, Did you hear it?” ie tebe 8 answered Fred, ‘‘ but I couldn’t tell what it was. Maybe it was Ranty calling.” The bare suggestion seemed to strike a chill to both their hearts. Standing close together, the listened for what they dreaded to hear—Ranty’s well-known voice calling for help. But they heard nothing, and had started on, when Fred caught his companion by the arm. “There! did you hear that?’ he said, in a low voice. ‘* It was some one calling for help!” Their hearts fairly stood still as they listened. Yes, it came again; but it was not a call for help. It was a shout, half-angry, and wholly commanding as they could tell by the tone. The words were no distinguishable, but the sound came from directly ahead, and without a word, the two boys moved cautiously in that direction. They had gone but a short distance when the tim- ber wegen | ceased, and they came to a rocky, pre- cipitous hill, that a glance showed them wo be impossible to scale, “We must make to the right around it,” said Al- bert. ‘‘ There must be an open spot of low ground ahead, for away across yonder are the tops of trees that are almost on a level with where we stand.”’ Albert took the lead and a few steps brought them to a thicket of low brush that grew along the foot of the rocky hill. ““We shall have to go through this. I guess it won't appear so thick when we get fairly into it.” And Albert shifted his gun from his shoulder to his hand, and commenced picking his way along, fol- lowed closely ad Fred. It proved even thicker than they ipo eg ut they had gone but a short dis- tance when they ‘saw daylight ahead,’’ and a mo- ment after, they halted, and parting the bushes, peered carefully out.. One good, long look; then Albert drew back, with a white face. ‘* Look, Fred,’’ was all he said. CHAPTER It. RANTY GETS INTO TROUBLE. Wuen Ranty Hazelton ran his canoe ashore at the termination of the river race, he had two plans in his head copecrnna one or the other of which was almost sure to su me ites aaa He knew of the bend in the river immediately be- low; and he reasoned that, should he set the t adrift, it might mislead the Indians into thin that he was still in the bottom floating along, or fail- ing in this, it would be almost sure to go ashore at the bend, thus giving his two companions a ready means of crossing the river to come to his relief. That the former plan failed by the Indians coming in sight around the bend, and that the latter suc- ceeded, we have alr°ady seen. With the spirit of mischief that was ever predom- inant in Ranty’s mind, he conceived the plan of limp- ing as he entered the woods, thus giving the sav the idea that he was wounded, never thinking that it would make them still fiercer on his trail. But, the instant he was under cover of the woods he straightened out with surprising quickness, and started at a breakneck pace in a direction almost parallel with that in which the river ran. He felt ge cg sf safe now that he was un- der cover of the woods, for it was but a short dis- tance to a spot where, if he could reach it in time, he felt sure, should the Indiazis hunt for a week, they would fail to discover him. This hiding-place was a small cave that he had dis- covered that morning, and which opened on a nar- ei ep that jutted out from the face of a high pice near the river. The platform was scant hree fee wide, and was fully thirty feet above the ground on the smooth face of the ndicular rock, which ran up from the ledge nearly thirty feet more. Within half a dozen feet of this perpendicular wall had brow reared its brambly top some ten feet above the of the rock. *“*Now, Mr. Randolph Hazleton, there’s the tree ‘that suits you better than any other one in these woods,” exclaimed the boy, with his usual sang jroid, as he ¢ame in sight of it. ‘‘ You were fifteen years old a week ago, and much smarter than boys usually are at that age! ahem !—and if you can’t climb that with fifty painted Indians to help you, when you have done it. with nothing but your own legs, you hadn't better call yourself the great hunter of ‘the North- west, He had strep his rifle to his back while speak- ing, and _ with the agility of a squirrel, he commenced é ascent. A strong limb grew from the tree about. thirty- five feet up, and as if it had been calculated for-that not overg it was on the-side- next the precipice, and rooped slightly toward ‘the shelf, thus forming 4 ee chance for one with strong arms and nerves, to and safely thereon. Ranty reached this without mishap, but here a difficulty arose which he had net calculated on. The wind, which had been blowing steady and strong, had almost reached a gale, and getting a fair ia upon the top of the tree above the rock, it nt so far away that Ranty was unable to get upon the ledge. Again and again he slid down the limb, hoping a lull would come, that would allow the tree to swing back for a second. Once or twice it did sway almost within reach; so near that Ranty had peered to jump, when a sudden gust would bend he slender body a full dozen feet away. The loud shouts. of the savages, now but a short distance away, warned the boy whatever he did must be done at once, or they would be upon him. Dropping his body, under the limb, he hung-sus- pended by his arms in mid-air, and strove by swing- ing himself back and forth to incline the tree nearer the precipice. wat? fh. But it was.a futile attempt, and relinquishing it, he startéd to climb up ‘among the thicker branches, when the Indians burst into the open space beneath the tree. With a silent prayer, Ranty remained motionless, hoping they would pass along without seeing him, But one of the. savages, keener-eyed than the rest, detected his clinging form,.and a moment after a din was raised that would have shamed Babel. Ranty saw that he was discovered, and for a mo- ment a deathlike feeling came over him as he thought of the many stories of prisoners who were burnt alive by the savages. He threw it off witha powerful effort of will, and determined, now that he was really in for it, to put a bold face on the mat- ter. Though he was well armed, he saw he could do pete sy and so he sat calmly on the limb and await- ed his fate. “Hey!” yelled one of the foremost sav who seemed to be a sort of petty chief. “We got you little boy tight. You no go up tree ’ ‘ : fin, hey “Well now, you can bet I will if I’ve a mind to!” returned Ranty, sitting down on a limb and swing- ing his feet leisurely. ‘You little brave, we make you git up an’ git right smart,’’ continued the chief, who evidently been among the “noble white men,” judging from his talk. ‘What—name—hey?” “Randolph Hazelton, Zsg.,’’ returned Ranty promptly, continuing to swing his feet in apparent unconcern. The Indians all stood around beneath the tree, a silent party to the confab, having yelled to their sat- isfaction on first coming up. ey saw that their game was nothing but a boy, and they were some- what astonished at his make-believe indifference. “You come down—heap quick!’’ exclaimed the chief. stepping up close to the roots of the tree. “Hey?” returned Ranty. ‘ ‘Come down!”’ reiterated the chief, in a loud voice. ** Me shoot!” ‘Trade?’ exclaimed Ranty. thing except an old jack-knife!” ‘‘How—you?” yelled the chief, fairly black in the ees ** You come down—me shootin little big piece ts!’’ He raised his gun threateningly, and Ranty saw that he had gone as far as would be advisable under the circumstances. So he commenced to slide slow- ly down the tree. His heart beat like a trip-hammer as he thought of the perilous position he was in. Half-way down the tree he stopped on a short limb, and with left arm thrown round the trunk, took a second survey of the savage group waiting for his descent. There was fully a score of them altogether, some naked to the breech-cloth, and all daubed with paint; a motley-looking set, with fierce, savage, rutal faces. ty’s heart fairly forsook him for an in- stant. “You come—guick /” exclaimed the chief. “Don’t you be in a hurry, old leather-head,”’ re- torted Ranty, just savage enough to be reckless, as he saw there was no possible chance of escape. «, ‘ve got a lame leg, here, and I can’t come very fast ” And with this, Ranty thought, necessary “ fib,” he again started to slide slowly down. CHAPTER IV. THE PICTURE WRITING. ; As the day advanced, the wind seemed to increase. Now and then a scattered cloud trailed across the’ sky; the trees waved and creaked, and ever and anon one was snapped in twain and came to the und. Standing oe a high point of land where a small stream emptied its waters into the Red River was a boy sixteen or seventeen years of oge, and it needed only a glance at the dark, serviceable dress trimmed “Hav'n’t got any- with fur, the double breech-] -gun, anc the belt with its revolver, knife and all the very counterpart of those worn and carried by Fred Car- ter, to show that he was “one of the four,” the
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The Boy ‘Rifles, Will Macdonald spoken of by his two companions, Albert and Fred. He had started with say from camp that morn- ing, but they had separated shortly after leaving it, with the agreement that they should meet at this spot and return together. ““He’s gone on some, wild goose chase or other, and don’t know that it lacks only an hour of noon,’ muttered Will, looking off up the river as he spoke. “Here I’ve been half an hour if I have a minute, and I was late, and je hasn't put in an appearance yet.” He put one hand to his lips, and whistled shrilly on his finger, but there was no answer. “T shan’t wait any longer, anyhow, for I’m. as hungry asa wolf. I'll drive a stake here, and leave a cartridge shell on top, of it, so’s he'll know I’ve been here, and won't wait for me, and then I'll go for camp.” . It took but a short time to arrange this, and then picking up the brace of partridges he had killed, he started. His course lay directly up the small stream which, where it emptied into the Red, was perhaps a dozen yards wide. bs ve a look at that, or my name ain’t Macdonald,” thought that yo emslenenn, as he watched where the paper caught and hung ina thorn-bush. ‘“ That’s right, old jabber-boxes; mount your ponies, and travel!” The latter part of this soliloquy was addressed to the de Indians. When the last clatter of their horses’ hoofs had died away upon the wind, the youth came out and picked the bit of paper from the round e two 3 — thorn-bush: » It was genuine writing-paper, and Will’s eyes grew round as moons as he saw that some words were penciled on it in Albert’s hand- writing. ¢ “Here’s something that amounts to something! Now if I can only find the other piece. It went off here, somewhere.”’ He stepped along a few feet t the bush. . Yes, there it was sure enough, lod, against a little tuft of grass. With fingers that trembled in spite ‘of himself, Will Py it up and fitted it'to the other piece. Tt read as follows:, “Ranty is taken prisoner by the Indians. We think they are going to,take him toward the moun- tains—perhaps to a camp on Beaver Creek. We are following to see. If you come across this. to-day, come on; if not, wait. ALBERT and Freb.” CHAPTER V. THE BOYS ON THE TRAIL. A WILD, tem ious; gloomy night was sett over the Red River ootntey From horizon to bo zon stretched a dull, y mass of watery-look clouds, that went scudding before the blast, ever anon spattering big drops from their tattered edges in their flight. The wind soughed dismally through the darkening forest, and shrivked, and moaned, and howled around the hilltops and over the naked prairies, as if the spirit of ‘‘ Old Nick” himself had taken possession of it; a night in which the campers- out of the Red River eountry looked to make every- po pena secure before they turned into their unks, Standing under the woods, on an elevated piece of ground that overlooked a densely wooded valley were two motionless figures who = not the slightest at- tention to the fierce threatenings of the coming sterm. In the every instant deepening darkness, it required a to detect them from the tree-trunks among whic’ a stood. But suddenly there was a slight motion on the part of one of them,a waiming “’Sh,” and the next instant the spot where they stood was unoceu- pied, the figures had vanished! ; At the same moment a shadowy shape flitted among the trees a few yards away, and that also vanished ! Vanished but to reappear an instant after, an up- right, motionless form, so close to a t tree-trunk that it seemed a part and parcel of it in the dark- ness. ‘* Tf I didn’t see something, or somebody then, I'm grandly mistaken, that’s all,” soliloquized Will Mae- onald, for he it was. “* be they think I’m nap- ping, but they’ll find their mistake.’ For fully ten minutes he stood there, his body mo- tionless, but tery faculty on the alert. Suddenly there came to ear a sound which he was con- vinced was not made by the wind. The darkness had dee so rapidly that objects were not distinguishable half a dozen yards away. Will strained eyes in a vain endeavor to the gloom, and looked long and intently in fhe ai. rection from which he fancied the sound had come. But no moving object came within range of his vision. * Fred,”’ said a low voice, which Will recognized with a start as Albert’s, “ Fred?” “What you want?” responded Fred's voice from. out the gloom, and the next instant will caught sight of a shadowy shape moving along. . ae he exclaimed, in a low, eager voice, ‘Boys!’ “Well, if this don’t beat any thing I ever saw!’ exclaimed Fred, as the two came up. ‘That we should run across you here! It’s too good luck to have come.” A dozen questions were asked and answered in a breath, as the trio huddled together under the tree. It w indeed, a most fortunate encounter, and seemed little short of a miracle. ‘““Rarty is safe yet,” said Albert. “'The Indians are camped right close by. We thought you were one when we first got a glimpse of you ten or fifteen minutes ago. But, how did you happen to come on? You must have found our ‘ letter.’ “TI did,” replied Will. ‘‘ And you can just consider that I have done some tall traveling since that, too, to be here. I took a regular Indian trot about half the way. I found where they’d camped at noon, and saw some more of your ‘sign’ there. I went to the sycamore for dinner, and haven’t had a mouthful of any thing since.” “Well, here,’ returned Albert, fumbling about in the dark to get into his pocket. ‘* Here’s some roast- ed rabbit done up in a piece of birch-bark. It’s one we cooked this noon.” “ Epluribus!”’ cried Will. “ And now, while I eat, I want to hear all about the whole A They seated themselves on the gnarled roots, and while Will munched his meat, Albert related the particulars of Ranty’s capture that they knew. “They'd got him when we first-come in tof them, after°we crossed the river,”’ Albert continued, shifting his rifle to a new spot across his knees. ‘They had his hands tied behind him, and they were jabbering iy hw a flock of geese. We thought tirst, of going to the sycamore and waiting for you, and then we thought if we did they would get so much the start of us, that, like as not, we couldn't follow the trail. They didn’t have horses for all of them to ride, or we couldn’t have kept = And it turned out that Ranty wasn’t wounded at all. But he pretended he was awful lame, and co they put him on a horse with one of the Indians. We haven’t been here but a few minutes. When we came up and saw the Irdians were preparing to we commenced skulking round to find a good puMeN,,
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4 Bea where we could see what the Indians were doing, and be hidden ourselves.” ““That’s precisely what I was doing,” declared ‘Will. “I knew tes boys were somewhere here, of course, but I didn’t expect to find you so easy.” They held a consultation to see what was best to be done. At last peed decided, now that it was so dark, to separate, eac foing in different directions, and find the best spot for concealment close to the camp. ‘Albert went directly forward, while his two com- —_— turned, one to the — and the other to he left. Albert, being older, had been looked upon as a sort of leader since first coming into the coun- try, and in the present case the two boys looked to him for counsel, and coincided with the plans he pro . After cautioning them to use their ut- most vigilance, he moved away in the darkness to- ward the camp. The night was almost inky by this time, save when the faint flashes of sheet lightning illumined the sky for an instant. The Indians had chosen a sheltered spot under some broad-topped-t where, in the little open space, they had pitched their camp and were b cooking their supper over the fires they had b in different places. Step by step aegton crept up, the wind drown- aad ol ht noise he made, till at last he had at- a position within a few yards of the nearest fire, around which half a dozen savages were squat- From here he could command a view of the entire camp. Ranty was near one of the center fires, bound tightly, but looking as unconcerned as if no such things as bloodthirsty Indians were within a dozen miles of him. His hands were released to al- low him to eat the supper brought him, but were tied again when he had finished. After a rather protracted survey of the camp, the young man crept silently away to meet his two companions at the place agreed upon. an were both at the spot, and after some con- sultation, they all crept forward in a body, yet with ‘the greatest caution, to the place Albert had so we vacated. “Well, if they ain’t an admirable looking set!" sauttered Will, peering between the leaves of a thick, scrubby bush. ‘‘ Where’s Ranty? Oh, I see him, He looks as sober as a deacon.” “I guess = would ¢ we Pape in ans pep ~l whispered expec roast y a slow fire when their mighty lordships could spare the time from gormandizing.” Huddied ther under the thick bushes, the trio talked over r plan in the lowest of whispers. But, had the @ double the noise they did, it would not ve reached the savages, above the of the wind, rg ae is this,’ announced Albert. ‘In all probabi y it will rain before very long, and this will still further favor us. When the camp gets quiet one of us must manage to enter it in some manner. They may leave one or two of their num- ber on but I think we can get over that diffi- " e are all well armed, and I trust, have enough to. stand ee a fight if worst comes worst. Ranty must be liberated, and to-night, too. for we don’t know what may happen to-morrow. if wecan get him loose, and get ten yards the start, what can they do toward finding us on such a night as this?’ Not anything of course,’’ answered Fred. ‘‘ Why, they couldn’t see two feet, and the wind blows so they couldn't hear us run. I'd risk them catching us. “And I, too,’ responded Will. “That's settled then. So all we've got to do now is to wait.” “Which ain’t very hard work for me,” returned Will, ‘I’ve tramped so much my legs ache. Hello! Now what's up?” The last part of his sentence was caused by see- ing the chief approach Ranty with the latter's dou- ble rifle, which he had taken possession of that morning. He knew something of breech-loading arms, but not of this pattern, and he desired a little information. “White boy great fool—big chief mus’ have gun— ou,’’ e did not think he stood in need of any ‘‘ fixing,” but he decided that he should not explain the working of the gun, unless obliged todoso. He changed his mind, however, on second — “*Untie my hands and I'll fix it,” he said. The chief complied, but Ranty’s plan of escape was sudde foiled by the Indians gathering in a circle about s “Td t *round,”’ uized, when he again tting on the ground. “ And that before long, too!” CHAPTER VI. RANTY HIMSELF AGAIN. ht peemod to grow darker; the camp-fires ’ - THE blazed fanned by the wind, sent out a -—— ruddy glare upon the wall of foliage surrounding the little glade. The three boys never left their covert, but lay si- a re or the camp to become quiet. The rain held bac arengely ow and then a few drops pattered on the leaves, but none fell of any account, and one by one the Indians wrapped themselves in their blankets and composed themselves for sleep. **Boys,”’ whispered Will, excitedly, “they ain't oing to leave a guard, as sure’s you're born! here's the last red imp rolling himself in his blanket, now!” It was even so, Will crawled round where he could fet a better view. Ranty, bound hand and foot still, was given a blanket and made to lie between the chief and another Indian, who laid a little apart from the rest, by a separated fire. The chief took the precaution to attach a cord to Ranty’s ankles, the other end of which he tied about his own, A total silence fell over the camp, save the noise made by the roaring and rushing of the wind. An hour before midnight the rain commenced falling slowly, but kept increasing, till when midnight came it was storming quite hard. The fires were beginning to die out. ** Boys,”’ whispered Albert, “‘now is our time. If it rains much harder the Indians will begin to look for some kind of shelter, and our chance be over. Follow me, and tread light.” With the greatest of caution the boys crept round to where Ranty lay. It was only by the faintest flicker from the fire that they could mark the spot. Arli nm had assigned to himself the task of en- tering the camp, and with directions to his two com- panions as to how they should proceed, should he chance to be discovered, he cautiously advanced, Inch by inch, sometimes so slowly that he seemed to stand almost still, till at last he reached a spot within a yard of the sleeping trio. Their lying a little apart from the rest favored him. He fi nced back where he had left his com- a eir forms were shadowy and indistinct, hough less than a dozen yards away. He glanced around on the slee Indians. All were quiet, and stooping forward slightly he touched Ranty’s shoulders. Slowly and cautiously, Ranty raised his head, till his eyes rested on Albert. The latter held his hunt- ing-knife in his hand. One glance, and Ranty un- derstood, and then he commenced slowly and quiet! to remove the blanket. The next instant the cords that bound his wrists and ankles were cut, and he arose softly to his feet. Not a word had been exchanged between the two. Ranty’s rifle lay by the side of the chief, and the belt bh near. Albert had already secured the latter, but when Ranty stooped to pic be / the rifie he found the chief’s hand was resting on it, even in sleep. Slowly and cautiously, and with bated breath the boy began drawing it forth. The savage stirred un- easily; rolled over, and with a low, gut “ugh,” started to rise to a sitti ure. Started, but never ed. With the quickness of light Ranty caught the rifle by the barrels, and ores | the weapon as if it had been a spear, dealt the chief a blow in the temple with the sharp, iron-bound corner of the butt-end of the stock. Without a sound—without even a struggle, the chief fell back upon the sward, and lay like one dead. With bated breath, and loudly-beating hearts, the two stood motionless, their eyes fixed on the re- maining savage. He moved a little, drew his blan- ket closer about him, and then lay quite still. Their hearts revolted at the thought of killing the miserable savage. But if they left him, he might recover before they were a dozen yards from the spot. we ress a sy, Se of the difficulty Ste fy he itself to Ranty. He motioned to Albert to take the chief by the shoulders and he would by the feet, and they would carry him away. At that instant Will, who had, with Fred, witnessed the whole, glided up. It was but a moment’s work to give ther guns into his charge, and then, _— the insensible form of the chief, they bore it tow the edge of the glade. It was their only way. Should they be discovered they could drop their burden, and stand a oped chance of escape then. But, fortunately, they reached the cover of the woods without mishap. Once here Fred assisted them, and in a short time they were several rods from the camp. * All right, boys,” exclaimed Albe , in a low tone. “ This is far enough. Now to fix him.” ‘* Here’s the thong fast to his ankle yet;’’ respond- ed Ranty. ‘And it’s just the thing. I'll puta gag in his mouth, while the rest of you tie him up!’’ Albert wound the thong aah about his ankles, reserving a short piece of it, with which he tied his hands behind his back. “You old heathen!” muttered Ranty, wrathfully, as he tugged away at the knot behind the chief's head. ‘“T'll miss my guess if you'll be in a condition to screech very loud when I get you fixed. I hope you'll cotch cold, and it wil settle in your big toe ~iaeme ou ete life!” eaidnaa” ‘ ** Come ndolph, you're getting wicked,” put in Will, soothingly, - You should remember to Pio to others,’ and so forth. You know it’s much better to give than to receive!” “That's just exactly what I mean!” returned Ranty, giving the gag a vicious pull. ‘‘I’d like to have him come to about n minutes, till I could thrash him as much as he has me. I'd enjoy ving it a deal worse than I did in taking it! I'll bet he’d re- member it as much as a week, too! There, you red budget of — and feathers, I’d give something to see you when you come to your senses!” “He'll be like the Jew in ‘Morna Mem,’ his thou peak aloud,” re- sponded Will, as they fixed their charge in a portl Laisa posture inst the roots of atree. “ Good- by, old fellow! appy dreams!” “ Now then,” sai bert, “‘to get as far away be- fore Gaviight as we can. The wind is south-east. We will take our course by that.” They moved off in the darkness, Albert ahead. Ranty recounted his adventures, and asked and an- swered questions, all at the same time. He was elated, as were all the rest, at his escaping from the savages so easily, and with all his arms and equip- io ing to try getti to-night,” h “T was going getting away to-night, e said, clambering over a log, that he haa run eatin 4 against in the darkness. “You ought to have wai and given me a chance to have covered myself with glory.” “You have already,” said Will. ‘‘ But oh, Ranty, what if we shouldn't have succeeded in rescuing you? What would have become of us? We never could have gone home.”’ Ranty was a little sobered by this view of the case and trudged along in silence for a few moments. But his thoughts soon took a new turn. “My! But they won’t swear nor anything when they find out all about it.” ; “Swear!” said Fred. ‘Pooh! Indians can’t swear!” “They can’t, eh? That shows all you know about Indians. That chief would swear Ae 3 all to pieces in less than two minutes,” returned ty, backing u and concluding to go around a tree instead of throug it. “You ioe ought to have heard him!” sag: one ou looked rather smaller than usual,” peers ill, ** but I didn’t think before what made t ” The oe trudged on in silence after this. In the intense darkness they made but. slow progress, and the wind and rain were additional discomforts. The had reached a strip of low, heavily-timbered lan and now and then little streams, swelled to twice their natural size, would bar their way, but general- a friendly log furnished them the means of cros- . And so they tramped on, eager to put as much land as possible between them and the savages be- fore morning should dawn, CHAPTER VII. THE FURTHER DOINGS OF THE QUARTETTE. “THat’s just as I expected,” said Ranty, tartly. “T might as well have staid among the Indians, for I shall smash myself all to pieces, ot boul “Tt was me you ran against that time,” said Al- aw Ranty stopped to adjust his .cap, and rub shin. “Well, it’s all the same,” returned ~ ae “First a log, and then a tree, and then you. I’m prett; _ drowned, too, There ain’t one of you wet, there?” “Oh, no, ee little damp, is all,’ answered Will facetiously. ‘‘I yote we stop somewhere, and wait till morning.” “Let me one end of that opinion,’ returned Ranty, ‘‘and allow me to conaratilake ou on it as being the most sensible thing you've said to-night.” “T don’t know but it is the best thing we can do,” said Albert. ‘But we want to find some place where we will be more sheltered, than here.” ‘* All right,” returned Ranty. ‘‘ Scatter out, boys, and look for a turned up root, or a hollow log.”’ They ‘scattered out” accordingly, and each be- ana search on his own account, ty proved to e the most fortunate, for he discovered a spot where they could all be sheltered from the storm, It was nothing less than an upturned tree that had, in growing, spread a mass of fine roots over the top of the low, soft ground, and when uprooted, had carried a et of the ground up with it, and the edge, lopping over, formed a tunnel, al- high enough for the boys to stand upright, and etying am le room for them all to sit. “ Yes,’’ returned Will. ‘If you should hear one in there even, you’d run like a locomotive going down e.”” Ranty had on on the leeward side of a tree and succeeded in striking a match and ignit; a roll of birch-bark. And with this held above head, he piloted the boys ‘‘ indoors.” ‘“‘ This is a much better place than we expected to find, boys,”’ declared Albert. ‘It’s almost as cosey in here, as our sycamore.” ‘Which shows the necessity of having a person along who amounts to something,” put in RA * But I don’t be 4 anybody °ll appreciate me ti after I’m dead. t’s always the way with genius- es. , The boys collected a quantity of wood, and soon had a bright fire blazing. And then they gathered around, and proceeded to wi ih and examine, their arms, and dry their clothes. They were com- =, sheltered from the wind and , and soon he fire made eve: ae leasant. “Tf we only had bone hi to eat now, we should ded Fred. “‘I’m going enjoy ourselves finely,” d ; out to kill a partridge, as soon as daylight comes.” ‘““Which won’t be very long. It’s four o’clock now,” returned Albert, looking at his watch. In a little while the gray dawn began to appear. Fred, accompanied by “‘ Macky,” as ny sorne mes called Will, out to look for a brace of par- They came upon a pair, tri for their b q end eined them, before they were a dozen rods from breakfast for the four ore the windy, cloudy morn- their camp. They made a very hungry hunters, and
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_birch-bark plate. ‘‘ But they say livi g in r The Boy Rifles. 5 ing was fairly born, they were en route toward the sycamore. They reached there without mishap, and found every thing safe. The rain of the previous night must have obliterated their trail up to their stop un- der the root, and the boys had but little fear of the Indians finding their retreat that day, and they pre- pared to take the rest they so much needed. The hollow in the sycamore was nearly six feet in diameter, which gave room for two of the boys to sleep comfortably, and have a fire at one side. For the accommodation of the other two they had ar- ranged a ‘‘bunk’’ just above their heads, by setting four posts, and laying some small poles upon them, the whole cove with bark and leaves. This was the resting-place of Masters Ranty and Fred. ‘Help! fire! murder! thieves! Jupiter Pluvious! wake up!”’ Ranty thought he was in the center of a hundred locomotives all screaming at once, but by dint of phe his eyes a sufficient len, of time, he dis- cover only ill Macdonald standing on the side of his “ bunk,” — a formidable strip of bark threateningly over his head, and yelling at the top of his lungs. “Wake up! Who's asleep, I'd like to know?” re- turned Ranty, clapping his hands over his ears and coming to a sitting posture with considerable dis- patch. ‘You'll tear this whole human habitation right down, if you yell any more like that! Why, I could have heard you if I’d have been in Canada!” and Ranty put on a deeply-injured look. “T wish you had have n, then! I’ve screeched enough to rouse the seven sleepers, and here you snored right a just as regular as the puffing of a steam-engine. shan’t be able to speak for a week, I know!” “What would you do if the Indians got you, say ?”’ was Ranty’s pertinent inquiry, as he clambered over the edge of his bunk. ‘‘ You'd have to talk then, or they'd thrash you till you couldn’t see.” “Td risk em! Didn’t you know papper was ready? You stare as if you never saw any victuals before.” “Venison!” exclaimed Ranty, in astonishment. ‘Of course,” answered Will, holding up a tempt- ing slice within a foot of Ranty’s eyes. “Don’t you wish you had some?” “You see,’ explained Albert, coming in at that moment with Fred, “I was out scouti round a little this afternoon, and ran right over this fellow, almost. Will put a piece to roast as soon as we got him up here.” “And prime it is, too. It will fairly make your mouth water. Let’s commence on it, for I am as Loe oid as it’s possible for a well-regulated youth to 2, ” ‘You'd have thought he was if you'd have been in here and heard him howl,” said Ranty, as the quartette gathered around their bark table. “I couldn’t have made such a terrible screeching as he did, if I had gone without victuals for a week.” For a few minutes after this the boys were content to rest talking, and confine their energies to the “matter” before them. “My appetite isn’t very good,” remarked Fred, at last, as he added another rib bone to the = by his he woods ove one in that line, so perhaps mine may come in the course of time.”’ “Mine is r, too,” concluded Ranty, looking wistfully at the rich, juicy slices, that remained un- eaten. ‘‘ But I never like to eat very hearty; it’s apt to bring on dys epsia. I guess I'll go to bed now, I don’t feel very well,” and Ranty drew his face down to a formidable length. “Oh, pshaw, Ranty; don’t give up so,” urged Albert, helping himself to another slice. “You have- n’t eaten hardly anyt: te “Tl do for this time,” answered Ranty, getting up with an audible yawn. ‘“‘T’ll go outand be getting some wood.” The darkness fell over the forest at last, shutting out everything from view with its inky mantle. The boys’ fire blazed and crackled cheerily, lighting up their genial faces as they gathered around it, a happy, contented group. y had all been companions from childhood; had lived and attended school in the same town. Their tastes were similar; all loved the woods, and although Albert Arlington was twenty-one, he en- joyed the companionship of the boys as well as hough they had been of his own age. He with an- other young man had planned an expedition to this ver country, and the Ss of the three boys, his present companions, had consented to their ready, Ariingto them. Then, when everything was * - an tends to im ready, Ar n’s companion failed to keep his romise, gave up the enterprise. Rather than isappoint his younger companions, Arlington car- ried out the original plan, and the openi of my story found them snugly ensconced “in the Land of the Dacotahs,’’ the game-abounding “hunter's peneeee of a country,’’ about the Red River of the orth. / They had taken pains to arm themselves with the same make of weapons and accouterments through- out, and, add to this the similarity of their dress, and as far as outside appearance went, they were certainly very much alike. Ranty, rollicking, good- natured, fun-loving Ranty, was the life of the com- pany. There was never anything stupendous enough to surprise him; never anything serious enough but what he could find as apt words for it, as would be spoken by much older people; never pee scrape desperate enough but what it had its jok- able side; and never enough prime fe mar his sunny te r for any length of time. And rear re com ons had equally commendable raits, Will had produced the picture-writing he found the se! before, and the boys examined it long and earn- estly about the fire. But they had even a less clew to work on than the reader, and they could not solve it regres § An hour after Ranty climbed up to his bunk. *T don't think much of such a house as this,” he remarked, as he reached the top, and “shed” his cap upon Will’s head, knocking that worthy youth's beaver down over his ears and eyes. ‘There isn’t an eon to lay anything at all!” “Well, you needn't take me for a shelf,” returned Will, with asperity. ‘And I'll bet you two to one, Ara won’t never have as good a house as this, for his is original, if it isn’t very o “No it ain't, either,’ returned Ranty, poking his head over the side of his bunk. “I’ve heard of peo- by living in hollow-trees before. Sneak had a good eal better one than this.” “Sneak? who was he?” ““An old hunter and fappet that lived off West. But go to bed like a good , now, and don’t ask questions,’ and Ranty sunk back from view. Arlington was already rolled in his blanket, and Will took Ranty’s sensible advice, and rapidly en- sconced himself in another, and the four ‘inhab- itants of the sycamore,” as the last-mentioned youth facetiously termed himself and companions, were soon sound asleep. It could not have been far from midnight when a shadowy form glided stealthily along, and, approach- ing the sycamore, halted at one of the openings made to admit light, and peered cautiously in. There was no sound save the heavy breathing of the tired sleepers. The fire had died down, till only an occasional fitful flicker came from its embers, je hea dancing shadows over the recumbent orms. Long and intently the keen eyes peered about, then the face was withdrawn, and the shadowy figure moved silently around to a second aperture, where it could obtain a better view of those within. CHAPTER VII. A TREACHEROUS GUIDE. Over a beautiful, undulating country, made up al- ternately of prairie and forest, and that lay seventy miles southerly from Fort Garry, three travelers, inounted on strong, good-conditioned horses, were galloping leisurely along. The first, whose age claims the op ipicraet ce was a small, wiry-looking individual, with a thin, straggling beard, covering a still thinner pair of cheeks, and a bony chin. His features were small, and the eyes, which were small also, were deep-set, and more re- markable for a cruel, crafty ex yression than aught else. He carried a rifle across the saddle in front of him, and the belt about his waist fairly bristled with weapons. He was known as “ Warner”? by all those who knew anything about him, and he claimed to be a trapper and fur-trader, oceasionally acting as guide to parties going overland from Fort Garry, a posi- tion which he was now filling. His two companions, riding abreast, and a couple of yards in the rear, were both young girls, yet very unlike. One was perhaps nineteen, with a pure, fair, beautiful face, brown eyes, and a profusion of nut-brown hair, very light, and whose flossy little curls and waves glimmered golden in the sunshine, as the breeze lifted them from the graceful shoul- ders. Her form was womanly and perfect, of medi- um size, and she sat on her splendi animal with the ease and assurance of one to whom the saddle was a familiar seat. Her name was Madge Lennox. Florrie Stanley, or “ Flo,” as she was familiarly called, who rode beside her, was petene fifteen ears old. Her form was slender an ful, but had not yet attained its womanly fullness. Her complexion was dark, yet very clear, and her eyes were bright and large, and poe | bewildering, in the frank, straightforward way she of turning them upon you. Her horse was similar to her compan- ion’s, and in the holsters of the saddles were revol- vers, while, in addition to these, each carried a tiny. silver-mounted one in the dainty belts that encircled them. Each wore serviceable traveling-dresses of brown cloth. This, with the pack mule managed by the guide, comprised the party, and their equipments. The two girls had been somewhat suspicious of their guide since starting, and almost wished they had not undertaken the journey; but they were in a es reach Georgetown, and had accepted his roffered services, he assuring them that he was amiliar with every foot of the route, and_ that they, under his guidance, could pass unmolested through the country, as he had great influence among the different bands of Indians, having been among them very much in his trading trips. * Flo,”’ said Miss Lennox in a low tone, as they fell a little further in the rear, “what do you think of our guide now?” “T think he’s outlandish!’’ returned Florrie, de- cidedly. _ “Yes, but what about? He is gentlemanly enough in his actions and conversation.’ “That’s just the trouble with him,” returned Flo, hee her dainty little hat, ‘‘ he is too much so! en such a looking codger as he turns saint, there’s mischief brewing. Have you noticed how glum he has been for a few minutes though?” ““Yes; he acts as though he was looking for some- thing, But I have noticed ever since we started, that he appears different from what he was at the fort; something in his whole air, but nothing that you ean get any tangible hold of. If we were safely through the Indian country, I wouldn’t care.” “T wouldn’t either; and I don’t much as it is,” and Flo touched her revolver significantly. At this instant the guide suddenly halted. They were going over a gently servo gt prairie dotted, here and there, with clumps and streaks of” timber. A mile or more ahead, and a little to the right, was one of these clumps, and from it a horse- man emerged, and came galloping swiftly toward them. The guide’s eyes were fixed upon him, as the two girls reached his side. “And who do you think that is, Mr. Warner?” asked Miss Lennox, as she reined up. “It looks like an Indian, doesn’t it?” “Yas; it is,’ replied the man, “ and he’s a-comin’ right for us too, but they ain’t much use in runnin’ for one Ingin. He's coming purty fast; guess T'll go forrad and see what he wants.” He gave the lariat attached to the pack-mule, in Madge’s charge, and rode out to meet the new-comer, who was now not more than two hundred yards away, and who could plainly be distinguished as an Indian, mounted on a meade h horse; a cross be- tween the mustang and Pony. The two halted within a few feet of each other, and exchanged a few words, then rode up close together. ey remained in conversation several minutes, at the end of which the Indian got to calling one gesticulating excitedly. The girls could hear the words distinctly but being uttered in the Indian dialect, could only guess at their meaning. “He acts savage enough to eat any one,” said Flo, as the two sat quietly on their horses and waited and watched. ‘‘ What do you suppose they are talking of?’ “T can’ ie aie unless it is something about us passing through,” replied Madge, as she watched he motions of the two. “I wonder if there are not more Indians yonder in the woods?” “‘T shouldn’t be surprised if there was, and the haye sent this one out to investigate and oto What's going to be done now, I wonder?” At this juncture they saw their guide pull one of his revolvers from his belt, and rats Up close to the eC present it to him. The latter examined it closely, and then, wheeling his horse, rode off toward the woods from which he had come. Their guide watched him till he was away some distance, and then returned to his companions. “Well?” asked Madge, eagerly, as he rode up. “Tt’s all right, I guess, miss,”’ returned the man, shifting his eyes uneasily from Flo’s piercing glance. “This Ingin was one I knowed, or mebbe we wouldn’t have got off so easy. He’s camped with another one up in the grove, and they’d ’a nabbed you purty quick if I hadn’t been along. Hesaysthey’s a big lot of ’em off here a pléce,” Séricin is thumb off to- ward the river, “ an’ he says they hain’t no objec- tion ter me going through but that you war another thing. But I told him you was friends of mine, and I'd give him one of my revolvers if he’d let us go through an’ say nothing about it to t’other ones, and he said he would. SoI guess we’re safe enough. The revolver war an old one, and I didn’t care mu *bout it, anyhow.” “Nevertheless, I think we had better pick our camping ground to-night, in a spot as suitable for defense as possible,’’ declared Madge, looking at her watch. “It is now five o’clock. Do you know of a good place that we can reach before dark?” e man had his back to the two girls at that in- stant, fixing something about the trappings of the pack-mule, and it was well for their peace of mind that they did not see the expression that flitted over his face, nor hear the words he muttered un- der his breath. “Yas, I know a tip-top place,’’ he replied, after a moment's silence. ‘But we'll have ride purty sharp to reach it afore dark. It’s clus to a stream that empties into the Red.” He turned round as he finished speaking, and re- mounted his own horse. And then, without more delay the whole y struck into a sharp gallop, heading directly for a long blue line several miles ahead, and which Warner informed them was the timber that skirted the banks of the stream on which he wished to encamp. The sun was just sinking behind the hills, filling the whole western sky with crimson and gold, when the party drew rein on the banks of the little stream. The latter was perhaps a dozen yards wide, and ri led along over a stony bed, with a musical sound. ts banks were low, and well timbered, and the trio dismounted on a little point of land around which the stream crooked, and which was covered thickly with trees, about whose trunks a profusion of grape- vines slumbered. “What a ret A, pa cried Flo, enthusiastically. “Tt is P splendid! How I wish we could stay here a week!” “ And live on roasted rabbit and fish, @ Ja Indian!’’ laughed Madge. ‘“‘I should prefer to have a little civilization ed with it.” “Miss Florrie likes the woods,” said the guide, looking admiringly at Flo, who was swinging airily from a grape-vine. “‘ But what do you think of the ground here, Miss Madge? Ain't it a purty good place?” “It appears like it,” returned the girl, g around. “Orat least as good a place as we coul find about here. The shape of the bank on the op- posite side will preclude the ility of any one ¢ at this point. But I hope there will no pe for defense,” and she looked inquiringly at e e. “Don’t think there’s the least bit,’’ returned the man, bus himself about the erecting of a small tent, ‘‘ for I don’t think the Ingins will offer to trouble us any. But, Ingins be queer sometimes, and it’s best to be on the safe side.” There was apparent sincerity in his tone, but could Madge have seen the sinister glance he cast at her, from his stooping position, she would have mistrust-
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6 Beadle’s Half-Dime Library. ed him far more than she did. As it was, she was beginning to think she had misjudged him. I wrong him by mistrusting him, when there is no good cause for it,’’ she thought. _‘* But if his face did. not so openly proclaim him to be a bad man, I should never Aave mistrusted him, for I have had no just cause from his actions. But, time will tell, and shall not ‘borrow trouble’ about it, at all events.” Before the darkness had fairly shut down, pita t thing was made secure for the night. The guide had erected a small tent, for the accommodation of the two girls; as for himself, a blanket, and a grassy spot under a tree, was all he generally cared about. “We will have our arms more than usually handy, to-night, Flo,” said Madge, as she examined her revolvers carefully, ‘‘ And if we should be obliged pe use them, we . Ithink we could stand quite a Ss i,** “There mustn’t any eevee come poking round here, if they know when they are well off,” pro- claimed Flo, with a decided nod of her little head as she peered out into the darkness, and then closed and secured the flap that served as a door for the tent. ‘‘We wouldn’t think anything of extermi- natinz a whole tribe.” And Flo, with visions of dancing savages before her eyes, and she making them fly right and left with her revolvers, crept up close to Madge, and in three minutes was sound asleep. Madge lay listening to her breathing, and to the murmurs of the wind through the tree-tops, and wondering if they should get safely through this Journey they undertaken, until she, too, fell asleep. She awoke sometime in the night to find that the wind had risen, and was blowing steady and separ, It roared through the trees so loudly, she was h aiarmed, lest some of the unsound ones should fall upon the tent. But she conquered her fears, and composed herself for sleep. Little Flo’s breathi was forgotten; the heavy roaring of the wind subsided to a distant murmur, she was fast losing herself in dreamland, when she was suddenly aroused by the whinny of a horse. At another time she might have paid no attention to it, but to-night the very air seemed to be p ant with danger, to her. She had assured herself it was nothing but her own fancy, but she could not throw the feeling off. At this instant the whinny came again, sounding loager and louder than before. “That was Ned, I am sure,’ She thought. ‘I wonder what can be the matter with him? I havea great mind to go and see—and I will.” Rising quietly, so as not to disturb Flo, she took her revolver, and pulling back the curtain of the tent ag softly out. In the deep shadow of the woods the darkness was almost palpable. She paused an instant; then moved off in the direction she knew the horses had been left. A few steps, and she paused beside Ned. He rub- 3t her shoulder, and whinnied, “Why, Ned, w the matter?” asked she, pat- ting his neck. Did you think you heard something?” The horse looked intently off in a certain direc- tion, whinnied again, and pulled impatiently upon his fastening.” Madge stepped along to where the other horses had been left. To her astonishment she found them one! = She looked further to assure herself she was not mistaken. A moment’s search convinced her that she was not. “Gan it be possible that Warner has moved them?” she thought. ‘‘I will Dee back and see.”’ She rapidly retraced her steps to the guide’s rest- ing-place. blanket Iay on the ground, but he was nowhere about! She stood irresolute for a moment; thenshe crept back to the horse. She had reached his side, and had paused a mo- ment, when she heard a step eo the leaves, and a voice, that she recognized as Warner’s, said: “Quss you, anyway! Can’t you be quiet a minnit? You want to wake up them beauties, n’t you, and spile all? I’d’a’ taken you first if I'd Songht you's goin, to make a confounded fool of yourself. oa, now There was a total silence for fully two minutes. Madge had sunk down, softly, at the first sound of the voice, and now she could see the guide’s form standing motionless beside the horse, and knew that he was listening. “Guess everything’s all right,’’ he muttered, at last, taki the horse by the ter and go] along. ‘“Tain’t likely they heard him, the win makes such a noise.” With aloudly beating heart, Madge arose, and fol- lowed him. e noise made by horse and man was considerable, but it taxed her utmost vigilance to keep them in h , and yet run no risk of betray- ing erself. A dozen yards, and the man halted. ‘There you all safe an’ sound, the whole on e; an’ I'll risk their findin’ ye on sech a night as is. Now, if ye’ll all keep quiet for twenty min- utes the thing will be done.’ The man muttered the words hardly above his breath, hut they reached Madge. And the next in- stant LP sas moved away in the darkness, and dis- appeared. ‘Lae sound of his footsteps had hardly died away before the brave girl’s determination was taken. She crept silently back, and entered the tent. > a said, in a low voice, shaking her gen- A “ io!” “What,” answered Florrie, eros, up suddenly, broad awake, ‘ What is the matter?’ | ‘Don’t be alarmed,” returned Madge, ‘‘ but gather up all our wraps, and put a couple of blankets in a compact bundle. We have got to continue our jour- ney immediately, but we can’t stop to take pe thing with us but what is strictly necessary. I wi be back in a minute.’’ “*Stop!” said Flo, catching her by the arm, ‘“‘and tell me what the matter is. Has the guide gone, or are the savages coming, or what?” For a moment the girl hesitated, and then, in as few words as possible, related to her an outline of what had transpired. After the first shock, Flo was as evry ngres as she, and hurriedly commenced to prepare for the journey. ” stay here till I come with the horses,” was Madge’s parting words, as she moved away in the darkness. She found no trouble in selecting her own and Flo’s horse from the others, and a Ys | them along, left them a few feet from the tent. An = the same instant Flo glided up, and stood beside er. “T heard you, and thought if I came it would save time,”’ she said, in a whisper. “I have got every thing you told me, and here is your other revolver that belongs in the holster. Are the saddles on?” “No, but we must put them on. It will take but a minute. Here is yours.” With fingers that trembled in spite of the most heroic efforts, the brave girls buckled the girths, and prepared to mount. “Hark!”? whispered Flo, suddenly. ‘I thought I heard something.” Both sunk to the ground, and listened intently. There was a rustling of leaves, and then against the shining water were outlined a dozen dark forms, gliding directly toward them! CHAPTER IX. A NEW-COMER, “ HELLO!” Ranty had just waked up, and was delibera' whether to get up and replenish the fire, or lie sti and go to sleep again. He had about decided on the latter, and rolled over, and drew the blanket closer about him. Then he raised his head, and listened intently. ‘*Hel-lo!’” continued the voice, in a little louder key. elo!” mimicked Ranty, poking his head over the edge of his bunk, and peering in the direction of the sound. ‘‘ Who are you?” “ Look-a-here, young man; is this the way you use er company?” continued the voice. ‘‘ Ain’t ye go- n’ ter let me in?” There was a stir among the sleepers, and before Ranty could reply to this last appeal, Albert came suddenly to an upright position. “What's the matter, Ranty?” he asked. ‘‘ What are talking about?” ** He’s got the nightmare!” It was the stranger’s voice, and it sounded preter- ar solemn. Arlington sprung to his feet; Will followed him, with amazing celerity, and Fred sat unrgee and stared, in sublime astonishment. > bey , boys, and he wants to come in!’’ ex- claimed nty, jumping down, and running to the door. Cautiously opening it a couple of inches, he peered out. 9 Say, you sure there ain’t any Indians at your back?”’ he continued, in a doubtful tone. ‘*Good Lord, no, youngster! They ain’t a pesky critter of *em in ten mile!’’ and a tall form loomed up in the darkness close to the door. “ All ht, then; forward march,” and Ranty swung bac. the slab that guarded the Lint, ac and ducking his head, the new-comer entered. Arlingten had thrown a few sticks of wood upon the alin, and the fire blazed up brightly, throwing its light over the man before them. He was nearly six feet tall, fully equipped as a hunter, and a fur cap, with the of the animal as a tassel, on the apex of the crown, was pores on the back of his head. His face, what of it was visible, for a heavy beard covered the ter part of it, was honest, frank and good-natured in ——- He stood erect, in the firelight, and his blue-gray eyes had a rather amused expression in their depths, as he glanced from one to the other of the surprised young- sters. ‘* Wal, now, you didn’t r’ally expect to see old Abe Anderson comin’ in to-night, did ye? No, I spect ye didn’t! But that’s allers the way in this ‘ere world of ours,”’ continued the stranger. dropping the butt of his rifle to the ground. “ uthin’ ’s allers a-turn- in’ up that a feller don’t expect. Good Lord! I’ve went ter my traps many a time when I knew they wa’n’t nothin’ in ‘em, an’ jes’ as like as not I'd find half a dozen squealin’ beaver. An’ then, ag’in, when I'd go out a-huntin’, not ’spectin’ to see anything, I’d kill a b’ar!”’ The old around, but be continued: ? I'd orter ’pologize for comin’ in this way, trapper paused an instant, to glance Tore either of the boys could reply, he “Te but the fact ar’ I had to make myself scarce this evenin’ or I'd ’a’ got my top-knot lifted. I got 5 onter about forty Injuns, an’ they war jist old biz- ness on the run. And, you see, I war lookin’ for a lace to snooze in, when I see’d your habitation, an’ ought I'd call.’ ““And you did exactly right,’’ responded Albert, heartlly, as he piled more wood on the fire. ‘‘We haven't much to offer in the way of accommodation, but you are doubly welcome to such as it is.” His companions bar feces the same, and in five minutes they were all gathered about the fire, and the conversation was general. Ranty had put a liberal steak to roast, on learn that their guest had had no supper, and he watched it zealously, while he listened to the old hunter, who had lighted his pipe, and was relating his recent adventure. e fire sparkled cheerily.. The traits and habits of the Indians, upon which the conversation drifted was an interesting one to the young hunters, and the time aupres by unnoticed, while they listened to the words that fell from the lips of the old ge “You have spent a great portion of your life in these western wilds?” Albert asked. _ ‘Yes, here, an’ between here an’ the Saskatchewan river. Some moughn’t like the life, but Ido. An’ in the woods one learns a heap that can’t be taught him anywhere else, too.” “T have got something that I would like to show you,” said Will, ‘‘and if you can explain it, we should like to have you, for we have all got our curi- osity aroused concerning it.” He produced the Indian pigrmesrrtting; as he spoke, and at | it, handed it to the trapper. “Wal, now, Uncle Abe, you'll have to open your peer if ye read that,” said the old hunter, as he ook the largest piece of bark, and spread it out on his knees. “ ’Tain’t ve that don’t understand it, out.” The boys sat round in silence, while he examined it minutely, gc | long whiffs at his pipe mean- while, having relighted it after finishing his supper. “Wal, boys,”’ he said at last. ‘‘ They’s consider- *ble in that, and the way I read it, is this: them twenty-four fellers is In; , of course you can see that, an’ that chap with the hat on is a while prison- er. He's got his arms full of wood, which means he’s to be burnt at the stake. This stream, here, emptying inter the big one, is where he was took, an’ that round thing over that Ingin’s head shows where the sun war at the time. Them four fires means they'll eat four times afore the’ reach the vil- lage, which are yender, where them mountains is, eararen they’re goin’ straight to, ‘cause, see the ay boys crowded around to examine it, and Will said: “What does that dust mean, that’s about that In- dian’s feet?” ‘‘ By Jiminy! I hadn’t see’d that afore!’ exclaim- ed Abe, as he looked closely at it. ‘I know that fel- ler, an’ he’s the very same —- with the reds, that I run ag’in’ ter-night. They cal him some great long name, or other, that means ‘ He-who-goes-in-the- smoke,’ Wonder where em nen that feller? Did ec find this lately?” conclu old Abe, turning to “Yes,” answered Will. ‘And I can tell you who that prisoner is. It was Ranty, here, but we just Renee in among them last night and carried him re) ” “Yes, and that fellow that goes in the smoke went in the rain,” putin Ranty. ‘‘We give him a free ride into the woods, and tied him up. I guarantee he was ina beautiful frame of mind when he come to himself.”’ 3 Old *‘ Unele Abe,”’ as he styled himself, was anxi- ous to hear the particulars of the affair, and was loud in his praise of the boys’ bravery, at the conclusion of the narrative. “They’s good stuff in all you fellers to make prime Ingin-fighters. Ye done that right up science. But I tell you what, boys, they’s a heap of danger ter be run, in sich a life as a hunter an’ trapper leads, off here. You’d orter had aman what knowed the ways of the country and the Ingins like a book to ‘a’ pilot- ed you ‘round till ye got ‘eddicated’ a bit. An’, if ou take my advice, you won't live in this concern ong. The Ingins is ready for bizness now, an’ they’ll find ye less’n three days. You want ter git som’- where, where, if they discover you, you'll have a chance ter do som’thin’.”’ This advice, the common-sense of the boys told them, ought not to be disregarded; and the result of a conference was, that they decided to move as soon as daylight should come. A cave that Ranty had found, near the river, might be exactly such a place as they wanted. They would examine it, and see. “ But here is alittle more hieroglyphics, that I was going to show you,” said Will, producing the other strip of bark. ‘‘When I was hiding, two Indians come along, and after examining that piece, made this one and stuck up with it, for the benefit, I sup- pose, of any more ap that might come along.” “Of course, that’s what it war did for,” said the old hunter, as he examined the piece. ‘‘ I’ve come across piles on these pieces in different places. These two sogins here, with horse’s ears, are mount- ed, and that feller back there by the frog is a chief, Leapin’ Frog. I've see’d him afore; an’ that string from him to these, means he’s told em somethin He’s wounded, too, see his arm?” “That is some of Fred’s work,” interrupted Al- — a He shot at him the morning Ranty was n. “But what does that square thi ictured on there mean?” asked Will. coe ““Was the two pieces of bark close together?’ ask- ed the trapper. “Yes; both on one stake.’’ “That's it, then. It means this wounded feller has told these two, about what’s on this big piece, afore they read it.” ty arose, and stretched himself with a sleepy yawn. * “T vote we go to bed again. I don’t fancy this sit- ting up business very much, myself. I have to prop my eyes open, ne my 4 agen . Ouch!” roke off s' Y, an an examining his foot with affectionate zea], . “i aes ayn a eed that eanen coal all round e floor for unsuspecting youths to t: upon,”* he muttered, soi/o voce, as he climbed into big bunk, ‘‘And other degenerate youths who have a way of lain, I'l allow, for them ut I guess I kin make it
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making light of other People’s troubles, ain’t much an to my fancy either,” he made a grimace at Fred, who was laughing himself into a sideache at the comical picture he had presented. But the night was waning sg and the balance of the company took pattern by the example Ranty had set, and soon all was quiet inside the sycamore. CHAPTER X. THE UNDERGROUND CAMP, Tue first gray light of the early dawn found the boys astir. hile one superintended the breakfast, the balance were busy packing up their equipments in snug shape to carry. “This makes me think o’ one time I moved,” said old Abe Anderson, rolling up a blanket with a camp ing-pan for a center piece. ‘ You see they war a lot of us, up on Bridger’s Fork, when one night the pesky reds stole every hoof we had. Good Lo you'd orter heard the boys swear! Soon's daylight ped, every feller war ready for bizness; when he come ‘bout fifty Injins, mustang-mounted, and they jist lit on us, an’ we hed to skedaddle for cover. Then the pesky brutes would gallop out of sight, an’ when we'd make a break, up they’d come ag’in. Then we'd make a stand an’ fight, and back they’d go! And that’s the way them varmints worked it an’ them fellers what stole our hosses, gittin’ off further every minit. They wa'n’t only half-a-dozen of us, but we could have chawed a hundred ins right up, if we could have got to’em! But bless yer gizzard! They war mounted, an’ we wa’n't, an’ they wa’n’t nary git there! We war allso mad that we turned black and blue all over! An’ then we come a little stratagem, an’ cornered a few on ‘em an’ got some hosses, an’ then we’s fer gittin’ out after the fellers what stole our hoofers, an’ then we happened ter think if we left our camp-stuff the other Indians would git it! Oh Lord! but whata time we had!”’ “What did you do?’ asked Ranty, as he served up the meat. “Do? I reckon, you! done ——_ eb ins eee our valuables, s ‘em fas our mustangs, and moved, bag ving 1 An’ mebbe we didn’t do it afore a jack rabbit could whisk his tail! He wouldn’t have got it mor’n half round, sure / That’s the beauty of not havin’ much housekeepin’ stuff; you can move in a hurry.” “Did you get your horses?” Albert asked, as the old hunter paused to look lovingly at a slice of steak. “Be I a-eatin’ this ’ere meat?’ returned the trap- per, as he began a rapid ‘‘jaw-attack’’ upon the ste. ak. “ Yes,” he continued, as he finished it, and leaned back with a satisfied sigh. ‘*We got our horses, but we had a hard run.” They were all ready to start, at last. Each one had a goodly bundle, and the trapper had the st of all. Ranty led them tow the cave he had found, in as direct a route as possible. “Tt seems to me,” remarked Albert, as they filed along, each keeping a sharp look-out for any signs of an enemy, ‘‘that there must be some other way to get into the cave, besides climbing that tree. Did you explore it any, to see what kind of a place it was, Ranty? Not eat» replied Ranty, shifting his load so it would pull on the other shoulder. “I happened to see the ledge, as I come along, and the tree was so close I took a notion to climb up, and see how it looked. And when I got sp there, I found the cave. It must be quite big, for it looked darker than a pocket. I didn’t care about examining the thing alone, so I thought I'd wait till we were all together. But I'll just bet it’s a capital place.” You remember, Fred, what a rough, rocky hill there is over it? The one we went around when we come upon the Indians the morning they got Ranty? Perhaps there’s an opening somewhere on the top of that.” ; of “We'll soon see,” said Ranty, “shedding” his pack upon the ground, ‘for here we are.” “Where else could we be, I'd like to know?” was r, you'd ’a’ Shouse we nthere! We packed up . the trapper’s pertinent query 8 he, Se, Bapceted his load upon the ground. *ve often thought I’d like ter be able ter be in two places to once, but I never could, yit. Good Lord! have we got to climb that?” For Ranty had doffed his cap, and was climbing, with the agility of a squirrel, up to the ledge. “TI think there ought to at least two of us re- main on guard here,’’ said Albert, looking inquir- ingly at the hunter. “In case any savages should come along, we would be in a bad box.” “Spoken like an oracle,” returned old Abe, ap- provingly. ‘A feller always wants ter be on the safe side in case of happenstances, which are som’at common, if not more so, in Ingin kentry, J'U stay fer one.” “And I, for another,” said Will. “So you can ‘ascend this noble monarch of the forest’'as soon as you like.” / “Tumble up!” roared Ranty, thrusting his head over the edge of the ledge. ) “Pare off the north-west corner of your voice or you'll have all the Ingins in the couatry atop of us,” admonished Abe. Albert now commenced the ascent, followed closely by Fred. “ We'll be off a_bit, an’ if any Ingins puts in an ap ce, ve'll let °em chase us a gite tt you come down,” called the hunter, as 0 reached the ledge. “Now,” said Ranty, “to lore this wonderful and magnificent underground apartment, which the mysterious. hand of nature hath wrought. ‘Where's the torch?” The Boy Rifles. “Here,” responded Albert, producing and light- ing, one of several which he had prepared. ‘And don’t ‘drift away on the flowery paths of rhetoric’ too much. It may turn out less magnificent than you think,”’ ‘Ticket number one!’’ exclaimed Ranty, enthusi- astically, as hey entered the cavern through a nar- row aperture, that opened from the ledge. ‘Now what have you got to say?” Albert held the torch high above his head, and allowed the light to flash around the apartment. It was about a dozen feet high and wide, and nearly double that in length, and walls, floor and ceiling were solid rock. “ Epluribus!” cried Fred. “If this isn’t just the ace, then where will you find it? Move along, and aoe eee snes te * ¥ op 2 ; rom the opposite end of the room, an irregular e led of into the darkness, and wide enougb, some of the way, for two to walk abreast. Through this the boys passed, and soon emerged into another cavern similar to the first. But from this, passages led in every direction, and some of them wide enough to form small irregular rooms. Upright pil- lars of rock, and sharp corners jutting out from the walls, or guarding turns, were everywhere, and the peeenes were constantly uniting and diverging, till t seemed as if the whole bank was fairly honey- combed. “TI vote we follow this ‘lead,’’’ suggested Fred, indicating a passage that led a little up from where they were. ‘It seems to go st t ahead, and may, eventually lead out somewhere. Hello! what's this?”’ They had been advancing along the “‘ monarch’s nM as Ranty facetiously terthed it, when they suddenly came upon what appeared almost like a flight of stairs. ere were no steps, but the rock was rough and uneven, and formed a secure foot- ing. f I guess you wish you hadn’t said anything about my cave, now,’ said Ranty, triumphantly, as he clambered over a bowlder, that reared i in the very center of the stairs. “If you can get up any better cave than this, on so short a notice, I'd like to see you do it, that’s all!’ “We'll own right up, Ranty,”’ said Arlington, lai pm “It’s a fabulous place without mistake.” “Hark!” exclaimed Fred, suddenly, A subdued murmur came to their ears, distant, yet rgd distinct. “That must be water!” said Albert, as they ad- vanced. “‘Look ont that you don’t step upon no- thing before you know it,” he continued, to Ranty, who was walking ahead as if for a wager. “No fear dwells within this breast!” nded Ranty, in a tragic voice. ‘‘ My reputation is at stake, to produce a Goo cave here, and it must be done at all hazards. Halt!” re hat’s up now, most degenerate youth?” asked Fred. ‘‘Hurrah!’’ shouted Ranty, making a grab for his cap to wave, but suddenly remembering that it wasn’t “there.”’ ‘* Daylight, as sure as you live!” With one accord the three rushed forward, and the next moment stood in a spot resembling a dis- used cellar, with the blue sky above their heads, and the murmur of the trees sounding pleasantly in their ears. For a moment there was a total silence, as the boys looked about them. ‘Well,’ said Albert, at last, “if we had planned this ourselves, I doubt if we would have been as well suited with it as we are now. But the next thing is: Can we get back?” ‘“ Let’s climb up, and go ’round,” suggested Ranty. “Tt can’t be far. place “This is the only available spot I can see," said and look- “See here!’ exclaimed Ranty., ‘The bowlder is smaller at the bottom, and here is a flattish stone that fills the space between it and the rock. I believe if we could move this, we could craw] through.” The three exerted their strength upon it, and to their satisfaction, succeeded in moving it. It left an opening fully two feet square. “Plenty of room,” was the information Ranty vol- unteered, as he passed through. ‘And I think the rest will be easy.” It proved so; and making the descent, without dif- ficulty, they, in five minutes, stood on the brow of the precipice overlooking the spot where they had left their friends. * Hello!’ called Albert, in a subdued voice. Hey? Wal, by thunder!” and old Abe appeared from the copsewood, and gazed in astonishment at the forms of the trio ranged along tie cliff. How in ’tarnel Jerusalem did you fellers git up there, I'd like to know?”’ he continued, coming up to the foot of the tree, with Will, ‘“‘*Pears to me you must have found a way through.” “We did,” returned ee prom . “And it’s a capital place, too, I can you! Bw up a little closer, old tree! I want to go down.” “Hold on!"’ exclaimed Fred, “ you can’t go down that! You'll break your neck.” “Will, eh? you wait and see,” was cpap Fe reply, and an instant after he had caught one of the top- most limbs of the tree that reached above the preci- ice, and sliding down it to the body, rapidly de- Bcended it tiJl he stood on the ground beneath, ‘“*Drat my moccasins, youngster, if you ain’t some on the climb!’ exclaimed old Abe, admiringly. “You'd make yer fortin in a circus! Throw up trap- pin’ an’ huntin’, an’ go an’ jine!” “Oh, you can make fun of my climbing,” returned Ranty, “but I guess you wo *t if you had seen me when I was young!” “Fun? Good Lord, youngster! I hadn’t the remo- test idee of it! Sure’s you're born! No,” continued the old trapper, in a philosophical strain, leaning his elbows on his rifle, which lay across his knees, ‘IT never make fun of anybody; it’s ag’in’ my princi- ples. I knew a feller, though, once— Hello!” “We thought, seeing Ranty had set us an exam- ple, that we would take the shortest cut,” lained Albert, as the trapper broke off suddenly in dls- course, to glance at them as they struck éfrra rma. “And accordingly here we are,” concluded Fred. They then We to give the hunter and Will a detailed account of their discoveries. - The former gave it as his opinion that it would be the very spoi they wanted. ‘““*] war a stranger an’ you took me in,’ you know, an’ as I’ve kinder took a likin’ fer ye all, want ter see ye safely settled afore I say good-by,”’ concluded old Abe, producing a strong cord from about. his shoulders. ‘‘So, I'll see ye housekeepin’, an’ then I'll moch-aw, as the Ingins say.” Three of the party now ascended the tree, to the ] , taking with them the cord. Once up there, one end of the cord was lowered, the packages fastened to it by those below, and so, one after another, the blankets, camp utensils, ammunition, and extra equipments were drawn safely up, and last, but not least, the eecrenee including the remains of the buck Albert had shot the day before. Then the re- mainder of the party clambered up. They conclud- ed to take the front cavern for their main use... It was quite difficult of access, would not be likely to be discovered by the Indians, and they could use the “‘ back entrance” for coming and going, if they thought best. And in case the Indians should dis- cover them, they could retreat at the opposite en- trance, and get away safe. It was nearly noon before everyth was com- leted to their satisfaction. Meanwhile, some. of he party had discovered a shorter way to the opening on the hill, and had brought in a good supply of wood with which to make a fire. And it was as hungry, happy, and contented a lot of boy bpnerns ae ever was, that gathered about the steaming coffee, and hot venison steaks. “The only phing you lack now, boys, is some hosses,”’ e old trapper, as he sipped away at the delicious fluid in his cup, while his honest face beamed all over with the good-nature that was characteristic of him. “I’ve got one what. és one, a! on @ little creek further towards the fort. An’ he'll be tickled nigh about tew death, too, when I git back.” ““We fully intended to have some,” replied Al- bert. ‘ But we nearly gave up coming, when all ryan then, when we finally decided to come, we no intention of getting so far away. We iy eee ge ed to strike the tra ought seem e the r, and he was evidently about to speak, but denen himself, on second thought. _““ Wal, boys, keep a sharp look-out for Ingin,” was his See an hour later. “I’ve took a powerfui likin’ tew ye all an’ ye mustn't be s’prised if ye see me pokin’ in meme ye ag’in some day, J shouldn’t be surprised m 4. “If you have ‘taken a liking’ to us, so have we to you,” returned Albert with a laugh. “ And rest assured, that whenever you can pay us a visit you will be doubly welcome. So come often and ney sone ut little did either of them dream, as they shook hands with the old hunter, under what circumstan- ces would be their next meeting. CHAPTER XL A PAIR OF HEROINES, Ir was a moment fraught with the keenest to the two brave girls crouching there in the - ness, their eyes intently fixed on the forms of ‘the stealthily a: proaching savages. Trembling with ex- citemen Oo gras her revolver tighter, deter- mined, like the brave little amazon that she was, to fight to the “last gasp ” before submitting a prisoner, for it seemed impossible, now, to avoid a CoWith lighte ne rapidity, Madge tried, in her ‘mind, ning rapidity, n to devise some means of escape. They might sibl son away in the darkness unobserv: _ without their horses they would stand but chance of escaping eventually. But to stay where they were, would be only giving themselves into the ete Sod hands, while.a bold p might poets result in their —— By springing upon their horses, they bn a e the savages so by surprise, that in the ess they could elude them. Madge was on the eve of this plan into prereston, when a low voice, which she recog- nized as their false guide’s, said something in the In- dian dialect, and instantly the file of savages, now not more than ten yards distant, turned a little to the left in their course, and passing the shining back- ground of water, were instantiy lost to view. “‘ Now, Flo!” whispered e, excitedly, but low, “Spring upon your horse, and keep close to me. | It is our only chance.” An instant after the two girls were in the saddle. But before their horses had stirred from their tracks, a warning cry arose from the direction in which the savages were.
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8 Bearlie’s Half-Dime Library. “We are discovered,”’ cried Flo, as she struck her horse a sharp blow, for at sound of the cry of alarm, Madge’s horse had started wildly along. ** Keep close to me,’’ called Madge, for she knew, should they get separated in the darkness, there would be a hundred chances to one that they would be taken. And, as she spoke, a perfect pandemoni- um of yells arose on the still night air, and rushed in a body in thelr direction, while above the din sounded the guide’s voice, yelling some hoarse com- mand in the Indian tongue. The horses reared and plunged wildly, and the two brave girls had to exert their utmost strength to keep them from dashing away at their topmost speed. In the intense darkness, this would have re- sulted in their being dragged from their seats by the lower limbs of the thick timber. But Madge had noticed, particularly, the lay of the ground on coming in, and she chose a path out where she knew were the least obstructions. But their pro- ss was not very fast at the best, and the yells of savages sounded frightfully near. ““T do believe they are gaining, Madge!” cried Flo, in sudden alarm. ‘ What—” She broke off, and reined up her horse, with a sud- denness that threw him k upon his haunches. For, from the ground about them had sprung half a dozen dark forms, and were on every side of them in an instant. Two had grasped the horse Madge rode by the rein, while another laid hold of her to pull her from her seat. But, with bravery that was a art of her nature, the girl clung to the saddle. on hand holding the revolver came to a level with the savage’s breast, and, with a silent prayer for 4 she pressed the trigger. The flash and the report came together. By the light, that for an instant illuminated the spot, Flo saw the ee clutch his breast, with a spasmodic motion, and fall heavily backward. But while the report was still echoing on the air, a second one blended with it, and, with a howl of rage, one of the savages, who was grasping the rein, sprung back, his face distorted with agony. Flo had cocked her revolver at the commencement of the melee, and sat holding it with a tenacious ipe, gazing spellbound at the scene. A low, gut- ural exclamation, and a strong hand attempting to wrest the revolver from her, brought her sud- denly -to a realization of her position. A strange ery, half of terror, half of defiance, came from her lips, and she clung to her weapon with the gripe of despair. It was discharged in the struggle, and the savage half-released his hold, for an instant, and be- fore he could tighten it, Flo had jerked the weapon from him, and cocking it again, shut her eyes and blazed away! She was conscious of a wild yell, following and blending with the report; of the sudden plunging forward of her horse; of a dark form rising before her, that was borne down and ruthlessly trampled under the feet of her frightened steed, and then she was going like the wind along a little, narrow flat, al- most on a level with the water's — while Madge. just ahead, slackened her speed a rief instant till | she came up. Then she was herself again, and they were flying along, their horses’ feet ever and anon plashing into the shallow water; while behind, a din reigned that would have shamed Babel. “Are you hurt, Madge?” inquired Flo, anxiously, as soon as she could — “No, but.l am afraid you are?” “No, Lam not! But some one else is! I gave one savage the headache I'll be bound. But, oh, Madge, wasn't it a most fortunate escape!” “Tt was indeed; but we are not ‘ out of the woods’ yet. But I don’t fear very much. We are better mounted, or at least as well, as sre As and, thanks to our training, we have a little practical knowledge of riding and shooting, and I guess we have the courage = back them up,” with a smile into Flo's flushed ace. **We gave them a sample of what we could do, to- night,’’ returned Flo. “But, oh, my oan what a mean old tram that de is! I'd just like to get my fingers in his hair! [ll bet I'd pull for once!” and Filo clenched her little hands, and her eyes flashed like little coals of fire in the darkness, just in anticipation of such an event. “He has certainly turned out a scoundrel, and proved that our fears were well founded. But hark! we have outrun them completely.” They were still follo the stream, the nature of the bank sometimes forcing them into it; but now they drew up for a moment on a narrow flat close to » the water's , and listened. But not a sound came to show that they were pursued. “T guess they didn’t look for us to follow the stream, and have gone in some other direction. ~ They can do but little to-night, anyhow, but 1am afraid when daylight comes they will find our trail.” ‘Let them,’ returned Flo, spiritedly. “I think we are amply able to take care of ourselves. Ain't we Bessie?” and she patted her horse’s neck ca- ressingly. ‘They sat there for some time and listened for the slightest sound that would tell them their pur- suers were upon their track, but nothing broke the stillness of the night, save the murmur of the wind through the trees, and the breathing of their steeds. al ink we had better leave the stream, here,” said Madge. ‘It is us nearly in an opposite direction now, from what we wish to pursue. The _ stars furnish an admirable guide; and I think we had better take our course by them.” “Tf + by not a better guide than the one we have had, I don’t think they amount to much,”’ was Flo’s opinion, as she gathered up the reins.‘ But you are better fitted for a general than I, so take -command, and march.”’ .., They struck off from the stream, and traveled for- ward as rapidly as they thought advisable, lookin, to the saving of their horses for a sharp run if it should be necessary. Flo’s spirits seemed to rise still higher as no signs of the savages appeared, and though Madge, with more experience and a pre- monition of the trials ahead, which her years, if nothing else, told her they might expect, could not feel hopeful, she was careful to say nothing that would omg 3 her companion’s spirits. And so the long night wore away, and the first y light of coming dawn found them many miles rom their camping-place of twelve hours before. A suitable spot was chosen and a halt made. About the middle of the forenoon, Flo, who was watching while Madge slept, saw what she thought to be a man, fully two miles away. -It was so far off she could not tell for a certainty, and it only re- mained in view an instant. It was under the woods at the further edge of the bro or prairie, before her, and in the direction of Red River. She awoke Madge and told her what she had seen. ‘““Whoever it was, I hope they didn’t catch a glimpse of you, for it is not at all probable they would be friendly to us,’ said ang she drew a small glass from her pocket, and leveled it at the corner of woods Flo pointed out. The two girls were securely concealed by the un- dergrowth and thick timber among which they had Cem wes stop’ ; and keen, indeed, must have een the eyes that, looking from the direction of the prairie, could have detected them. But they were detected nevertheless. Under the drooping foliage of a giant tree on the outskirts of the clump of timber toward which the two girls’ attention was directed, a man was crouching, his es intently fixed on the spot where they were standing. But after a long and patient survey with her glass, Madge failed to see aught that was the least suspicious. “You can just depend on it, though, that there was a man there,” declared Flo, nodding her head, by way of emphasis, till her curls all danced again in the morning sunlight, ‘And I shouldn’t won- der at all if it was Whiskerando Brigando,” Flo’s 2 ad * name for their false guide. ut it was not at all likely that the person or per- sons were friends, and’ so, the sooner they ces their present position for one further away, the less danger there would be of their encountering them. ith this view, 4 at once got under way. Their course would carry them a little nearer the supposed enemy, but as they could travel under cover of the timber, they decided not to make any deviation on that account. They had gone perhaps three miles, when they again struck the prairie, which curved around the point of woods through which they had passed. They were ee ane themselves on passing the danger in safety, when directly ahead of them, and appearing from behind one of the higher ‘““waves”’ of the prairie, rode a single horseman. Madge’s quick eye caught him the instant he came in view, and the two halted instantly. Then, as he reached the level ground, they saw that he had sev- eral led animals in tow. “Tt’s a white man, Madge!" cried Filo, after they had watched him a little." “ Who knows but it may be the one I saw a short time ago?” “Tt may be,’ answered Madge, who was watching him through her glass. ‘“ Whoever it is, it is no? our lide that was, at any rate. What do you think we ad better do?”’ *“Go and make his acquaintance,” responded Filo, promptly. ‘* Who knows but what he may be some- one that we can get to guide us through?- There be hunters and trappers here, and he is probabl one. He is only one man, anyway, and I don’t thi we need be much afraid, let him be as ugly as old Whiskerando himself. Shall we, or shan't we?” and Flo stroked Bessie’s neck, and waited for her ars) er opinion on the subject. ‘““We had better go on,” responded Madge. ‘He _— along as unconcernedly as though he had no dea that we were near.” But when the horseman came to the spot where he would have crossed the trail, had the girls been following one, he came to a halt, and waited for them to advance. CHAPTER XII. THE GIRLS’ NEW GUIDE. “Wat, now, by thunder!” muttered old Abe An- derson, for it was no other than the old hunter him- self. ‘If I hain’t run onter somethin’ ‘his time that don’t "habit the Red River country to any great ex- tent. Lord! I'd e’ena’most think they war ghosts, if the hosses wa’n’t stickin’ up their ears so. They knowed in a minute they wa’n’t any cheat *bout them. What d’ye think *bout it, Jimmy? Been some time since you've seen any gals, hain’t it?” Jimmy laid back his ears, as much as to say “Yes,” but immediately stuck them forward again, to regard the new-comers, now but a few yards away. er Hornin’, ladies,” greeted the trapper, slipping from his seat, as they came to a stand near him; while his eyes twinkled and a broad smile expanded his good-natured, weather-beaten face. ‘I’m Uncle Abe Anderson, I be, an’ I was specially designed by Providence ter help all female critters what war in trouble, which T can see is yer present circum- stances, so, if I am a leetle rough on the outside, I’m ready ter set ye right, if anybody can,” and the old trapper leaned on his rifle, while Jimmy stared with eyes and ears, as if he thought they might vanish at any instant and then began to paw, and his bits impatiently. “Thank you,” answered Madge. ‘‘We are, in- deed, in trouble, and if you can help us, we will pay you amply.” wre “Oh, wal, I sha’n’t charge you very much, seein’ as you’re wimmin—whoa, Jimmy; ‘have yourself now! If ye can git me a nice marble house an’ a hundred acres o’ land in some big city, an’ give my geen mother a few thousan’ dollars, er make her years kinder comfortable, an’ make some kinder a treaty with the Ingins so’s to have this Red River country ceded to me, for I can’t trap an’ hunt in any e now, an’-—”’ Old Abe paused at the end of the last modest re- uest, and, with his eyes and the upper part of his ace visible over the arch of Jimmy’s neck, regarded the two girls with a proces, Hey chy oer “Thardly think—” began ge, hesitatingly, con- cluding that the trapper must certainly be crazy. ‘Oh, wal, never mind!” interrupted Abe, as if he had suddenly changed his mind. “I guess, on the whole, such a sarvice ain't worth much anyhow, so T'll guide yer where you want to go, fer nothin’. My time ain’t very valerble.”’ “Seems to me you have dropped amazingly on your terms” said Flo, a ae im qtiiezicalfy, “T begin to think,” added Madge, ‘‘ that that was a way you took to inform us you wouldn’t charge anything. But we are willing, and able, to pay you a good price for your services.” ‘Don’t talk about Ae returned Abe, contempt- uously. ‘Lord! I'd be the meanest man ever lived if I'd take pay fer helpin’ ye out of a diffikilty. i *spect yer guide’s got killed, maybe?” “No,” answe Madge; and she proceeded to give the old sextet an account of their journey since starting. y_ companion, here, is a cousin, who lives with us, in Minnesota, and the party whom our people expected we would return with, from Fort Garry, gave up coming, at present, and as we were anxious to get home, we hired this guide, who was very certain that he could pilot us through Sin iy at for lookin’ chap was he?” asked Abe. Madge described him. “T know him,” said the trapper, musingly; ‘or, at least, I think it’s him. But his name wane arner, then. I never liked him much, but I didn’t s’pose he war a p’izen sarpint, like that.” “Were you the person I saw at the point of woods, over yonder?” asked Flo, indicating the spot in which she had seen a glimpse of the man. “ Can't say fer certain, but I war there and I see’d you, but you war so pesky fur off, I couldn’t r’ally make out what you war; so I thought Td strike in ahead, an’ make yer acquaintance.’ “T don’t see how you could have seen us,” said Madge, in surprise. “I thought we were effectually concealed.”” ‘*A feller has to see all sech things, or he don’t sojo@rn in this kentry long,’ said old Abe. ‘ Fust thing he knows, some Ingin will be liftin’ his to knot. It’s risky business, not to keep yer eyes peel- ed, here.” All this time the trapper had been busy revolving the case before him, in his mind. He didn’t tell the two girls that the four led animals were horses that he had “borrowed ”’ from the Indians. But such was the case, and he was now on his way with them to the cave, where he had left our four boy-hunters. He had intended to push puro, and reach it that night, but this had caused him to alter his plans ma- terially. Should he take the cave on his route, and leave the horses? No; that wouldn’t do. “T war thinkin’ how I'd manage some bizness I had on hand,” he said, removing his cap, and scratching with his fingers among his tan ted locks. “T know where they’s a safe place to leave m hosses, an’ I’ve “bout ‘cluded to take ’em there. can guide you through ter the settlements in a few days, ys 2 then I kin come back an’ git ’em. We're urty fear the river, here. They’s a place on the ank of it that I kin leave you while I take ‘em away; then I’m ready for bizness.” The trapper led them to a high, timbered point of land on the river-bank, and with many injunc- tions to guard against discovery, he left tient, It was now about ten o’clock, and he thought by three at the furthest he would be back. ‘**Well, Flo,” said Madge, as they were eating their lunch an hour later under the overhanging trees, “we have got a Peg now, I think, that is capable and honest, and will take us through safe- She looked down, and off over the country as she fea The river was visible, at intervals for two or three miles, its waters sgulevonine silvery in the bright sunshine, as they rolled tranquilly along. But sud- denly her eyes caught sight of what would always attract attention in such a country; a light column of blue smoke rising above the treetops that grew on the river flat a fourth of a mile above, and that were hardly on a level with the high point on which they were. “Tf it should be Indians!’ suggested Flo, breath- lessly. « Xnd more than likely it is,” responded Madge. ‘Who else would be camped there? It might be trappers, true, but it is not probable. It looks open there at the left of them. y creeping a little nearer the river, here, I think we can see them, whoever they are.” They attained the position without difficulty, The first glance confirmed their fears, for in the edge of the timber, were several white tents, and the score or more of dusky forms moving about, could be none miMne gitls, t quietly back e girls cre etly back to their cover, and waited and wa’ hed 1 for their guide's return. "They kept close to their horses, so they could mount on ihe Pa Pn ie Ma pe hours passed, and no In- ns distur , though the sport distance kiray. g y saw several but a “If he would only come,” cried Madge for the A
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The Boy Rifles. dozenth time, looking in the direction from which Abe must soon appear. And then her eyes wander- ed to where glimpses of the river could be caught among the hilfs . r *Flo,”’ she said, suddenly, “‘there is a boat com- ing down the river! It must be more Indians.” _ o sprung up and joined her. The boat was plain- ly visible, though nearly two miles away, and was eres down the stream, “It looks as though there was a load of them,” an- nounced Flo, shading her eyes with her hand, and scowling her forehead into a perfect network of frowns. ‘‘ Wouldn’t it be just lovely if they should tip over and get a good ducking,” she continued, thinking of the ludicrous in the midst of the d er- = “Lend me your glass, Madge, and let me view them.” Madge drew the glass from her pocket and handed it to her companion. One look, and Flo uttered a little cry. nit Oh, Madge, it is! it is! “White men! you live!” Madge took the glass, hastily. Yes, there could be no mistake. They were too far off to tell much con- cerning them, but their whole air and appearance bespoke them whites. : Na, e!” cried Flo, suddenly, clasping her hands. ‘“‘ They don’t know the Indians are there! They will all be killed! We must warn them of their danger!” The two looked at each other a moment, with white faces. Their own danger was forgotten now, when they saw others rushing so ene pen their doom. They didn’t stop to wonder whether they were friend or foe, They were white, and were un- conscious of their danger; what was the best plan to ‘warn them of it?” - “We must make a defour, and come to the river beyond the savages,” explained Madge, hurriedly. a y Ho we must start at once, for there is not a mo- ment to lose, if we want to be in time.” They sprung upon their horses, and dashed off down the slope. They made a half-circle about the Indians, keeping all the time a good half-mile of ground between them, and struck the river, a mile above where they were before. They had urged their horses at the top of their speed, and they were reeking with sweat and panting heavily. ut it mattered little, if they were only in time. “T will dismount here and creep forward,’’ said Madge, as they reined up a few rods from the water’s edge. ‘‘And you stay in charge of the horses. No,’ she added, on second thought. ‘‘ You may go forward, and I will stay. It will be safer so, There may possibly be Indians near.” Before the words were fairly spoken, Flo had skipped from her seat, and was flitting forward like a water-sprite. , Madge kept a keen look-out about her, but failed to see the form gliding along through the copse- wood, and that halted a few yards from her. d all unmindful of the glaring, basilisk eyes upon her, Flo reached the water's edge, and peered ee the overhanging branches. e next instant a little cry of thankfulness went up from her heart. Then she had sprung from the cover of the foliage to a huge stone that lay in the edge of the stream, and with her little form drawn up; her hair unbound and palling: in a golden shower behind her, her lovely face all aglow with excitement, was standing there waving her handkerchief with all her might; a glori- ous, dazzling vision, to the occupants of the boat floating serenely along a few yards above. CHAPTER XIII. THE YOUNG HUNTERS CONCLUDE TO MOVE, “Sre?”’ said Ranty, in exasperation. ‘‘ Of course I saw! Wasn't he a-looking over a big stone, and didn’t his whole top-knot show as plain as day, to say nothing of his face clear down to neck— ‘His shoulders, you mean,”’ corrected Will. “Will you keep still, say? Now you have made me lose where I was.” * But you know his face does go to his shoulders,”’ insinuated Will, meekly. Ranty gave him a withering look, and went on. ** And there he was gazing like Jeptha in the en- chanted castle, all eyes and ears to see where I would fo But he dodged back before you could say ‘ Jack binson,’ as soon as I looked that way. e old anees If he had waited two seconds, I’d have fixed m! And Ranty sat down, looking about as wrathy as a ‘well-governed youth would be ex to look; a kind of ‘eat ’em up’ expression,” as Will remark- se aGernard, and stared at his three companions as ora er. They been in their cave a little over a week; had hunted, fished, Senne had had two or three slight brushes with the Indians, out of which they had come “ whole-skinned,”’ and altogether had had quite as lively a time as any four young and inexperi- enced hunters would have expected to have, “un- der the circumstances,” Ranty said. But to-day that last-mentioned individual had been out to attend to some traps he had set on the river, and returning just before night, with several pelts and the saddle of a deer, had imagined that he been discovered by some prowling savage, and was being followed. e had heard, two or three times, sounds that he was sure were not made by the wind, and just as he was about to enter the cave from the hill, he caught a glimpse of a dusky face poseeng at him from over a neighboring rock. Ranty had instantly covered him with his rifle, and when he dodged behind the stone, had started down the hill at a breakneck pace, regardless of consequences. When the sa saw that he would have to take to his heels, or fight. he chose the former way from the difficulty, an leaping from behind the On discharged his rifle at ty, and then before the latter could “ pull up,” As sure as as he expressed it, and draw a bead upon him, he had vanished from sight. “But you can just depend that he knows we are here,’’ declared Ranty, after they had discussed the matter pro and con. ‘And before we know it, there'll all the Indians in the Red River valley, stewing about this hill. And they'll make it a warm place for us, too. “*T don’t see but what we shall have to change our quarters,” put in Albert. ‘‘It is too bad, too, for we were getting along finely here. I think it a mere chance if we find another place as well calculated for a ‘house’ as this.” “Tf we had only thought and brought along afew cans of age ak pi ’ Fred suggested. ‘“* With them we could no doubt have remained in undis- turbed pater of our domicile, as long as we wanted to. We would have let them attack us, and then we would have rolled a can down among them. They would have dispersed.”’ “Well, what will we do? Wait till they move us, or move ourselves, in anticipation of such an event. It will come, now they have found out where we are. and perhaps sooner than we want it,” and Fr looked as if he rather favored the idea of vacating at once. **T won't go for all the Indians in North America,” protested Ranty, stoutly. ‘‘Here just as we have ot nicely settled, and are living like kings. If the ndians want to come rampaging around, let them rampage; I reckon we can do a little in that line ourselves.” **Oh, yes,” sug) ested Will, “‘ you’d eat up three or four tribes, let them come one at a time; any of us could. But what if they should find both entrances, and a lot of ’em lay around each one, to pop over ni fellow that came out. Then where’d you i In the cave, of course!’’ returned Ranty compos- edly. “Yes; and there’d be a famine the second day! No-sir-ee! I vote we pick up traps and march. I don’t fancy being roasted or starved out, myself.” “All right,’ returned Ranty. ‘‘I want to go, too, but I thought I’d wait and see if any of you tellows had spunk enough to stay. But I see you haven't. Oh for aa spirit of ’76,” and Ranty heard a lugubri- ous sigh. ‘“You do need some of it sadly,’’ returned Will. “But this isn’t business. When had we better start?” “Tf we really conclude to go, I think the sooner the better,” answered Albert. ‘‘And I really think we had. Laying aside the fact. of to-night’s dis- covery, it would be an advisable plan, in my opinion. The Indians are thick as bees, and we are not safe outside the cave. No doubt that savage could have killed Ranty to-night, had he not wished to follow him tothe hiding-place of his companions. And prs being settled the next thing is where will we go bh) It took some time to decide this. Finally, they all settled on some point further down the river. “Tt is lucky we built that canoe,” said Albert. ‘It is exactly what we want, now. I think I had better go and see if it is safe, while the rest of you attend 0 packing up.” Ranty volunteered to accompany him, as it would take but a short time to gather up the things, and the two other boys would have ample time. The darkness had fairly settled down as they pass- ed out the back entrance of the cave. But they picked their way carefully along, keeping eyes and ears on the alert for any enemy that might be lurk- ing about. “nein canoe was a huge, birch-bark structure, made after one they had found floating down the river, only much larger. It was of sufficient size to hold the four, and their accouterments.. They kept it in a little sheltered cave on the river, where it was securely hidden until within a few feet of it. They were gratified to find it reposing snugly where they had left it. “That difficulty is over with, then,’ remarked Fred, as Ranty and Albert entered the cave, and re- aces everything right. ‘Will and I have been hinking,”’ he continued, as they gathered around for supper, “that we had better leave a lot of our stuff ere, I don’t see how we can take it all with “Nor I either,” concluded Ranty, making a fresh attack on a venison rib. ‘‘We have got so many hides and pelts, to say nothing of the dried meat.” ‘““We can’t take all those, that is a sure thing,” decided Albert. “Well, here is the plan Will and I have,” continued Fred. ‘‘ You know that little square cave that opens off the ‘stairway?’ The entrance to it isn’t more than a foot-and-a-half eaceng and we have found a stone that is a perfect fit. We crowded it in till it wa just even with the wall, and I'll wager you might look at it fifty times, and never mistrust it wasn’t a part and parcel of the solid wall. That cave we can leave our extra thi in, and if we don’t come back in a year, they will be there safe.” They at once commenced moving the extra things into it, Then the remainder was made up in com- pact bundles, and every thing put in trim for depar- ture. They concluded, however, to remain at the cave till toward morning, giving themselves just time to et nicely away from the neighborh before the awn. ooordingly they took turns in sleeping and watching, one remaining on guard all the time, at the back entrance of the cave. It chanced to be Ranty’s watch last, and at a quarter-past two he roused his companions. ‘What's up?” asked Will, as he felt Ranty’s ener- getic pokes. “Murder, fire, thieves, and the Old Nick let loose poet answered Ranty. ‘Come, turn out! are! ter!’’ “Thought you had the stomach-ache,” averred Will. ‘‘Seen any Indians?” ais Not an Indian. Every thing quiet as a lamb. ark!” The tone in which he uttered the last word enjoin- ed the strictest cf silence upon his companions. All four listened for fully a minute. “T heard something,’ Ranty whispered. ‘ You stay here; I'll be back directly.” ile their things were all in the cavern that opened from the ledge, they had come to-night, to sleep in the one nearest the entrance from the hill. Ranty glided silently along to the narrow passage that opened into the air, at the place mentioned be- fore, as resembling a disused cellar, and peered cautiously out. The darkness was not so intense, but what objects were distinguishable some feet away, and for a moment his heart beat rapidly, as he gazed upon the scene before him. But dauntless Ranty, with a courage and assurance equal to half a dozen ordinary boys, was undecided but for an instant—the next he was creeping to a spot, where, raising himself up a little, he could ob- tain an unobstructed view. Within a dozen feet of him, in the hollow before alluded to, a number of shadowy forms were con- gregated, while more were climbing silently over the rocks! —— CHAPTER XIV. A FIGHT UNDER GROUND. ““ Now there’s the tallest kind of a fuss brewing,” muttered Ranty, with more force than elegance. ‘* And the size of it will greatly depend on Randolph Hazelton, Esq., who is a most remarkable and extra- ordinary youth, but who isn’t given to boasti when there is any one around to hear,” he add with a sang froid that was refreshing. “ But the best thing you can do now is to get back and let the balance of the company know what’s up.” Moving as light as a cat, Ranty reached the cav- ern, The ‘‘ balance of the company ” were standing where he had left them, every faculty on the alert. ‘There's murder in the camp, and Old Nick to pay generally!” declared Ranty, in a shrill whisper. ‘The cellar is half-full of Indians, and more coming in allthe time! What will we doy’ ‘Block up the entrance!’ exclaimed Albert. “ Here is a rock that will go far toward it, if we can only get it in position. Move careful—that’s it! Now we'll throw some of these torches over in the sage, and two of us will take our position behind the stone, while the other two get more rocks to furnish the barricade!”’ His orders were carried out in a twinkling. The blazing torches lighted up the e beyond, and while Fred and Will took up their position behind the rock they had rolled to the mouth of the en- trance, Ranty and Albert commenced carrying rocks to finish the obstruction, But, before they had hard- ly made a beginning, a Babel of shouts and yells arose, and echoed through the cavern. The sav. had discovered the light, and saw that the surp was not such a one as they had planned! There was an instant’s silence; then with the most diabolical screeches er were capable of ut- tering, they rushed pell-mell along the narrow pas- e ut a terrific reception awaited them. The blaz- ing bark lighted up their brawny forms to the best advantage. Over the rock behind which the two brave boys were crouched, the frowning muzzles of two double guns appeared; a cloud of smoke for an instant concealed them, then came a report that seemed to shake the whole cavern, 80 deafening and terrific was it! The loud yelling of the sav, was drowned in the penlonyee roaring that filled the place; then came another flash, and a report seemingly more terrific than the first! “Come right along, don’t stop to knoek!” out —* — metallic voice, as 5: leveled his revolver upon the mass in the way. Albert pan se ; his eyes blazing; his manly young form drawn to its full hight, his own revolver on a level with his companion’s. They had sprung to the rock on the first alarm. Blinded by the smoke that filled the passageway, confused and panic-stricken by the terrible recep- tion, and by the sight of their dead and wounded companions, the Indians rushed in a body back along the rocky way, pulling each other down in their mad retreat, and yelling and screaming till the very walls trembled with the terrific uproar! “Hurrah!” shouted Ranty, waving his smoki revolver around his head; and “hurrah!” an hurrah!” echoed around the cavern till it seemed as if a gence voices had taken up and repeated the sound, And then almost a silence reigned. Not an Indian was to be seen save those dead and dying in the passage. The boys examined themselves critically, ut not one had received a scratch. “That is what I call being fortunate!” exclaimed Albert. “But we mustn’t stand idle. They may make another rush soon.” Every one sprung to the task of barricading the See a el ee Ss ee i i if t} ee am ee tt en ee tee Rr re ree eres nn reenter hl al a nl a in i Sa a ne ee ee ee
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} i 10 Beadle’s Half-Dime Library. entrance. In ten minutes it was done, and in so effectual a manner that twice that time would be necessary to undo the work. Occasionally a faint chorus of shouts would reach them from the out- side, but no other sign that the savages were near. A consultation was immediately held. It was thought best to leave at once by the other entrance. “Two of you can carry the things out and lower them, while I stay and watch and the other gets breakfast,’’ suggested Ranty. ‘* We’ve got to eat, youkno'y. What do you say?” “T think the plan admirable,’ answered Albert. They at once proceeded to put it in execution. Twenty minutes passed, but the Indians made no attack. Then the party partook of the breakfast Will had prepared. ** Now then, every thing is ready for a move,” said Albert. ‘‘The things are all in a safe place below the ledge. Hark, what's that?”’ “They are coming again, as sure as you're born!” exclaimed Ranty. ‘‘ The old sinners! Look out!” It was spoken just in time. “A volley came from the passageway, some of the balls finding entrance pe e cavern between the interstices in the barri- e. The boys returned the salute, with better effect, and again the Indians beat a retreat, the counter- part of the first. “T think it will be some time before they make another attempt,” said Albert. ‘‘ And the best thing bt do is to improve the opportunity to get a start.’ They threaded the es till they reached the outer cavern, and from the ledge descended, by way of the friendly tree, to the ground. It took them some time, having to move with the utmost caution after leaving the cave. “All safe?’ asked Albert, as he glanced keenly around in the darkness. “Ajl safe, and ready for mischief,’ answered ay. i ey well; follow me, then, and step as light as sible.”’ Po saying, Arlington moved away in the darkness, followed closely by his three companions. Being impeded by the heavy load each carried, it was some time before they reached the spot where the canoe was kept concealed, and all felt considerably wearied, and were glad that it was no further. “ All whole, so far,’’ said Albert, with satisfaction. “And now—’ He broke off abruptly. Stooping down, he had reached forth his hand, expec to lay it upon the prow of the canoe, but it grappled empty space. He stooped still lower, and glanced under the overhang- ing bushes. The rest were also metre but the lit- tle glimmering spot of water bore not upon its surface—what they looked for was not visible within e of their vision. bie y all the kinks of ill-luck, boys!’’ exclaimed Al- bert, in a shrill whisper. ‘‘ The boat is gone!”’ CHAPTER XV. A NARROW ESCAPE. A wieut then would have shone upon four of the blankest faces that could be imagined. Each looked at the other in the darkness, the same thought in the minds of all. *“ Well, if here ain’t a go!’ exclaimed Ranty, at last, drawi a long breath. ‘‘ Now, what in the name of old Mytho , and the Greek deities, in neral, are we to do? “ The first thing is, has some one taken it, or has it got loose, and floated away?’’ said Albert. “The very question I was about to propound,” added Will. “Let’s scatter out, and examine the bank,” sug- gested Fred. ‘I don’t believe it could have gotten out of the cave without help, and in case it has broken its fastenings, we'll find it somewhere.” “An idea worth enlarging, practically,” returned Ranty. And dividing, two went each way around the lagoon. ‘*Not on our side, at any rate,’’ remarked Albert, as they reached the spot where the water joined the river. ‘‘ Perhaps Ranty and Will have had better success, but I hardly dare hope for it.” They retraced their steps, and had followed to the river on the other side before they met their com- anions. Their hearts had “ descended to their boot ” Fred said, when, to their surprise and satis- faction, they suddenly agp the shadowy out- lines of the canoe close to the bank of the river, and saw Ranty and Will seated therein, pushing it silent- ly up-stream. “Of all the good luck in the world, boys!” ex- claimed Ranty, as the prow grated on the sand at the water’s e. ‘We found it eight or ten rods down, lodged on a tree that had fallen into the river and sunk, with one long limb sticking up, that caught it near the stern! If it wasn’t lucky, then I don’t know what could be!” With light hearts, the young hunters towed it into the cave, loaded in their accouterments, and pre- pared tostart. Albert being older and more experi- enced, took his place in the stern, to guide the craft, while the three boys ranged themselves along in good positions to use their paddles. And ext ush- ed off, and commenced floating down the s cur- rent of the river. They kept near the center of the stream, and the boat, impelled by the skillful paddlers and the cur- re fairly seemed to fly. “Boys,” said Ranty, when they had been afloat twenty minutes or f an hour, ‘it’s coming day- lights. See there?’ and he pointed his dripping pad- e to where a faint streak of light was visible in the eastern horizon. ‘That comes from having to fuss around so long," responded Will, giving his paddle an energetic flop | Savages, as could readily into the water. ‘‘We ought to have been ten miles away now.” The light streak widened rapidly; and soon the gray dawn spread over river and forest, and the morning was fairly begun. “They are using some forcible language back at the cave about now,” said Albert, looking b the river. ‘“‘I presume to say they are as mad a lot of gotten together on so short a notice.” ‘I hope they won’t burst a blood-vessel in their wrath,” added Will. ‘‘The loss to society couldn’t | be estimated. What if there should be fifteen or twenty of the imps along the river bank somewhere, and should pepper away at us as we are going down. I reckon there would be some lively times.” The party scanned the banks closely. They were bend high on one side, sloping from the water's edge | an covered with cedar, hemlock and pine, to their very summit, nearly a hundred feet above. On the other side, for one or two hundred yards back, was a low?flat, covered with a dense growth of butternut, hickory, and the like, then the bank arose similar to the other side. These banks and flats alternated every half mile, or less, and with such regularity as to keep a bank and flat opposite each other on their respective sides, rom the high bank an enemy could have found perfect concealment, and been in command of the river. The boys knew this, and held themselves ready to act onthe instant should it be necessary. “Tve twisted my neck to watch, till it’s crooked worse than any crane’s ever was,” declared Will, resting his paddle on the edge of the boat. ‘‘ Indians or no Indians, I vote we stop and rest, and get some- thing to eat. It’s ten’oclock.”’ “T second the motion,’ responded Ranty, prompt- ly, holding up his oar. All felt the need of food and rest, as they had been paddling steadily for several hours, and so, at a suit- able point, the canoe was turned shoreward. It was a beautiful spot where they landed. While the others pre something to refresh the ‘‘inner boy,”’ Albert decided to climb the bank, and take a look at the country. He took what is termed in hunter parlance a ‘“*hog’s-back,”’ a long ridge that sloped from the very water's edge, and was not as steep as the bank on either side of it. Reaching the top of this, he halted to take breath, and look about him. A splendid country spread out before him. A lain came to within a few yards of the timber-lined nk, covered with rich grass and occasional patches of trees, while away beyond arose a chain of moun- tains, their tops looking hazy and blue in the dis- tance. Not a livin eg | was in sight; all was peaceful and quiet, and the feeling, whic the entire absence of any signs of Indians, since starting, had formed, this quiet scene seemed to increase. “T don’t believe there is an enemy within a dozen ny of here. I feel as though there wasn’t, at east."’ At that instant a slight crackling in the under- — startled him. He glanced quickly that way. e noise continued, and while he was wondering what it could be, a huge bear came lumbering out, and started along as if to descend the bank. His first thought was to let the animal go, as the report of his gun might attract any savages who were in the neighborhood. But so sure was he that there were none near, that he at last decided to run the risk, and shoot the bear. By this time the animal had gotten nearly past him, and had halted an instant at the brow of the pank, Evidently he scented danger, for he was look- ing directly at our hero, and the first motion the lat- ter made toward raising his gun to his face, the bear saw, and, with a snort, started swiftly along. Albert fired at him on the jump. The huge ani- mal let out a loud snarl, and giving a tremendous leap, disappeared over the bank. The instant he , Albert started toward him. He heard the crashing of the brush in his downward course, and —* the spot where he had stood, peered eager- y over. The bank was very steep. Albert could not see the bear, but the waving of the tops of the under- wth showed him his course. He was half-way to e water's edge. “Tam afraid I made a soliloquized. “If he would only run over the ‘boys they would make a finish of him, but he is going too far to the left to strike them. 1 believe he intends crossing the river. If he does, there will be a chance to get him yet!” Struck with this last thought, Albert started up. At the same instant the heavy crack of a musket broke the silence, and with a groan, he fell forward, and the next moment he was crashing through the brush that lined that steep, precipitous bank! ~ “Hark!” exclaimed Ranty, stopping the wiper half way up in the rifle, and resting his hand on the r shot that time,” he cap. * Wasn't that Albert’s gun?” ‘Nothing shorter, as sure as you're born!” cried Will. “ t can he be shooting at? He said he thought it best not to use firearms unless absolutely RECOOEy: And here he is setting the example him- self. “Perhaps it was necessary,” su: d Fred. “But it can’t be that he has run a-foul of reds, or we should hear more.” But while they were talking, a second report came, but not such a one as the first. While that was the whip-like crack that denoted the rifle, this was a broad, heavy report; unmistakably that of a smooth- bet Gomething boys!” cried Ranty, jerking out me up, boys!” ¢ y, jer ou the wiper, and hastily inserting a couple of car- tridges in the empty barrels. “Never mind the coo —_ Grab your revolvers, and come on!” A wild yell of triumph, a yell that could come _ none but an Indian’s throat echoed from above, “Indians!” cried Fred. “Tumble up!’ roared Ranty. The advice was superfluous. Both Fred and Will were rushing up the steep bank like a tornado. The shouts from above continued, and seemed to | come nearer. Suddenly Ranty stumbled over some- crm f and the next instant a strange cry broke from s lips. “Tt’s Albert, and he’s killed!” ~ — Albert ao on lay upon his back on the grassy bank, bare-he: his vered with blood and di:t, ss Fpicea The boys stood an instant as if struck suddenly dumb. A crackling of the undergrowth, and a wild yell aroused them, and broke the spell. Two savages ee sar be ae ses tke them. “You smutty vi ” yelled Ranty in a rage. “We'll fix you!” $ y. i Their rifles leaped to the shoulders of the three boy hunters with one accord, and three pair of grief- stricken, revengeful eyes glanced along the shining barrels. The savages saw the motion, and witha loud shout, one of them leaped behind a range of trees, that completely concealed him from view. The other endeavored to follow his example but it was toolate! Three heavy reports suddenly broke on the air, so close together that they blended into one, and with a spasmodic clutch at his naked breast, the savage reeled backward, and was dead before he fell. With another howl, this time of defiance, Ranty, sprung up the bank. But the other Indian had made good his escape. The three gathered around their prostrate com- ponte, and silently and tenderly, Fred lifted his P The motion brought a groan from the insensible orm. “He ain’t dead!’ cried Ranty, in a transport. ‘Oh hallelujah!” and a moment after he was tearing like a lunatic down the bank to a little stream, where he hastily filled his cap with water. When he returned two minutes later, Albert was sitting up, wiping the blood from his face. “All right, Ranty,” he said with a little laugh as he noticed his white, scared face, “I’m not hurt any to speak of, and no bones broken. But I'll take the water to help me get off this blood and dirt. That's it. You look like a ghost.” “Well, I ess you would,” said Ranty. ‘M heart goes hip-i-ta- oP yet. I thought you was d and pretty near buried. I won't be in such a hurry next time.’”’ And Ranty sat down on a root to re- cover breath. “Don’t, and I can assure you I am as good as half a dozen dead men yet,” replied Albert, as he —- to his feet and examined his bruises more care- ly. But not a wound was on his person, save a gash over his left temple in the edge of the hair. An ex- amination of this showed it had been done by a very small bullet. “A buck-shot more like,” corrected Will, looki at it closely. ‘You can see itis cut smooth, If had been a bullet from a grooved rifle, it would have torn, because it would have gone whirling, And it wasn't a rifle that we heard either.” This proved correct, for on the body of the dead Indian was a pouch of buck-shot, and some birch bark stripped very fine, for wadding, while beside him lay an empty musket. ‘He has gone to his last account,” said Ranty, as they examined him. “It is no more than right. He intended to kill Albert, and would us, if he could.” It was almost a miracle that the fall had not killed Arlington. He had slid and rolled several yards down the steep bank, stopping at last on the little level spot, where his companions had found him, “Tremember nothing after thinking I would start down the bank after the bear, except a sudden blindness, and a terrific shock. The next I recollect, was when you picked me up,” he said, in answer to their inquiries. They scoo a shallow grave in the soft bank and buried the dead savage. Three ghastly holes in his breast showed that every bullet fired taken effect. Though an ey e three boys straight- ened his limbs, and laid him reverently in his last resting-place. They were not enough accustomed to death to look upon it without awe, and hardly a word was spoken till the grave was filled. Then they returned to their camping spot. . . Albert’s wound was nothing serious. Ranty rum- maged diligently among a lot of “ extraneous mat- | ter” in his knapsack, consisting of scraps of buck- skin, strings, tangled fish-lines, and a half-a-dozen loose cartridges that had spilled from a bursted case, and fished out therefrom, a roll of salve. Meanwhile, Will had prepared some bandages with which they were supplied, and when the wound was nicely dressed bert declared he felt as “good as new. After they had finished dinner, Ranty avowed his intention of following along the river a few rods, to see if he could find any signs of the bear Albert had shot; while the rest put their camp equipments in the boat. He had been gone but a few minutes, when they heard him shout, and going up, found him beside the dead bear. “You see he couldn’t get any further,” said Rantyy pulling away at one of thé monstrous hind legs in a.vain endeavor to roll the animal upon his back. ‘See where the bullet went in? ht there ba side of his neck. Wasn't so bad a shot after
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; owed —_— rs Fre’ and Wil assisted and teetons they turned the bear on his back. And while Albert sat on @ mogs-covered log, the young hunters stripped the hide from the carcass. “Won't that make a gorgeous robe?’’ exclaimed Mn, holding it up with Hanty’ *shelp. ‘‘ The future bstingtén, will have the a penta of taking a aa snugly ensconced under it, no doubt. Happy will be the day!” “Amen!” wf hed Albert, as he rose from the log. “T believe I feel rether sore and stiff. But I thin the sooner we get under way, the better. And fifteen minutes after, they had left their tem- porary camping-spot some distance} behind. Hour after hour they floated dewn, but saw no further sign of any savages. uddenly, Ranty, who was nearest the prow, ceas- a hy for the scene of action. eo saw them, and like a clarion note e.. ‘ous shout of defiance, as he his steed toward the enemy. And simultaneously a puff of smoke curled from his rifle, and a brawny brave tumbled from his horse. A score of - savages started, with wild yells to- ward our y, on perceiving them. th one accord the halted and prepared for action. ““ Wait till they are within a hundred yards,” came Albert’s clear, even tones, ‘‘ and then take good aim, and don’t waste a shot. Good fighting is that can save us now /” Not a nerve trembled at thought of the peril be- fore them. Like statues they stood, waiting for the proper sar: agers to arrive. ow At the low-spoken mee, their rifles leaped to their shoulders. Four curling puffs of smoke; four heavy reports, that blended fost to one, and four of the Sa ra es reeled and fell The line half-halted, wavered, then closed up. But bed oe was fatal. e young hunters, plowing terrible effect “ “Come on, ye sut-begri lizard-eating hybrids! Screw up yer co’ e to the sticking p ‘int, yell yer best yell, an’ precipitate yer- selves forrad onter the roarin’, Clawin’, funeral-mak- ain came a volley from ugh their ranks wi med, buckskin-colored, ing terrors o’ the North-west the eous ram- rs of the Red River!” yelled a de’ t voice. e young hunters looked up. There, riding as » was old he | thougti pursued by the Arch Fiend erson, his empty rifle fast to his back, a re- volver in his right hand and a knife in the other, his long grizzled hair sailing out on the impromptu reeze. He had broken through the party of sav- ages behind, and taking advantage of the hesitation and wavering of the charging band, had passed them like an arrow. But by the time he had joined our party, the In- dians had recovered and were coming forward, giv- i. vent to yells of exasperation. hen the sharp crack of revolvers followed each other in quick succession, and a ect din reigned. Suddenly old Abe uttered a alarm. Following the direction of his gaze, “Albert echoed the cry. There, scarce a hundred yards away, were Flo and Madge, urging their horses tow “them at their best speed, their long dra) meeey flowing behind them. on the breeze they engendered. Albert at once re- Penishen CS two they had seen the day be- ore. atillintat AN sy. egy nll sgl snes Ee ney we . yes
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12 “Go back!’ yelled old Abe, forgetting for a mo- ment the conflict raging about him. ‘ Tearin’ Jeru- salem! Go Back!” He threw up his arms; he waved his cap, he yelled himself hoarse. But still they came on. Albert saw in the hand of each a tiny revolver, in their faces the determination to take wee in the affray. “Oh, climbin’ caterpillars! They'll be killed, sure!” yelled old Abe, half distracted. ‘Great Gehoso- p ad A new party of Indians suddenly appeared, sweep- ing like a tornado down upon them, and in such a direction as to cut the two girls off. Old Abe struck his horse a sharp blow, and shouted to the boys: + “oom and runt It’s the only way! I'll help the a ” “We had better take his advice,”’ shouted Albert. sire a mustang, and all keep together if possi- e ” A dozen ponies were gee ven Be aged hither and thither; ponies belonging to the killed and wounded savages, and that seemed loth to leave the fight, but remained as though some strange fascination held them. Albert caught one of these as it passed him, and vaulted upon its back. Asavage sprung toward him with swinging tomahawk, but went down before his revolver. And in one minute all were mounted, and breaking through the lines, lashed their steeds into a dead run. ‘*Look, yonder goes Abe and the two girls!”’ cried Ranty, as he pointed to them, galloping away ina different direction, with old Abe ahead, and a horde of savages in pursuit. ‘And they’re pulling away from the red-skins, too!” “Yes, but we ain’t!’’ cried Will. ‘ There’s forty or fifty after us, and gaining every minute!” A quick —— behind proved that he spoke the truth, and they lashed their mustangs into the best = they were capable of making. But, either they did not understand the art of urging them for- ward, or the pursuing savages were better mounted, for the latter continued to gain slowly, but surely, po now and then a stray bullet flew unpleasantly close. “* Supposing we shoot a little, ourselves?” suggest- ed Will, looking over his shoulder. “They ain't more than forty rods behind, and I had just as soon risk losing a little ammunition as not.” Ranty thought so, too, and they turned in their saddles, and blazed away, aiming at the whole mass. Their bullets evidently flew somewhere near their intended place, for the — spread out like a flock of pigeons when a hawk dives ae This was a little triumph, and the two kept blazing away, laughing in spite of their perilous situation, at the frantic dives and dodges of the Indians. But they found that it resulted in a little — also, for it checked the s of the Indians, till they, if anything, lost ground. And so our party took turns, and a running fire was kept up for several miles. They struck the stream. at last on which they had encamped the previous night, but_ many miles below where the race commenced. Here it was quite a stream and had low rocky banks. They turned down it, and were galloping along as fast as their now tired horses would permit, when the Indians, getting a little nearer, opened a fresh fire. At the first discharge Ranty’s horse stumbled, and the boy had on y time for a nimble leap when he staggered and fell, shot through the neck. All three saw the mishap, and pulled up. “We shall have to make a stand!’’ cried Albert, springing from his horse, and looking hurriedly around. ‘ But there isn’t a tree nor bush to hide behind! Back up here to the brow of the bank, and let them come!” Will and Fred had sprung from their horses, and then all four started on a run for the bank, but a few yards away. But, suddenly, a hole, a dozen feet across, and half as deep, barred theirway. Theend next the bank looked like the entrance to a cave. “Tt’s our best chance!’ shouted Albert, and they bounded into it just as a shower of bullets and arrows from the yelling Indians, now not a dozen yards away, hurtled over their heads? CHAPTER XVITI. WORKING FOR LIBERTY. ““T RECKON we did that just in time!” cried Ranty , as they ran to the furthest end of*the hole. It went back, cave fashion, a dozen feet, or more, and by stooping they could see out the opening, but being dark where they were, the savages could not see them. A moment more and they had dismounted, and were gathered about the opening shouting and - ticulat excitedly. Then a lot of stones and bul- lets struck the ground at the boys’ feet, thrown out as a ‘‘feeler’’ by the Indians to determine their position. “They'll have to aim a little higher with their ‘ brickbats,’ if they expect to damage us,”’ whispered Albert, and a moment after, his e cracked, and a = e peg or Smee rea oe ro pte ole no com ions caug m and drag- ged ‘him back. This incident raised a perfect din, and the jab- bering grew more exci than before. But they were careful not to expose themselves as a target again, but kept back out of harm’s way. ‘At last their excitement cooled down a little, and soon almost total silence reigned. This was broken by a voice that evidently was that of a white man; but the speaker kept back from the edge of the opening, so the young hunters could not see him. *‘ Hello, down there!”’ it began. : ‘Well, what of it?” was Ranty’s pertinent query, in return. a ROAD ace a 2<eah ** Any *bjections to tellin’ who ye are?’ continued the voice. “Not in the least.” Silence a full minute. “Wal, who the devil be you, then?” ‘‘Four Michigan boys,” answered Ranty. ‘Cap- tain, commanding, Albert Arlington, aged twenty- one. Balance of party, Randolph Hazelton, fifteen; Fred Carter, seventeen, and Will Mac- donald, seventeen; all pilgrims. Which means,” continued Ranty, by way of ope ene ‘that we’re very grim, and d in lead p’ for the benefit of you and your clique.” “A muttered imprecation came from above. ‘Don’t swear,” admonished Ranty. ‘It’s wicked.” ““ We'll give you something that will be worse than —_ pills, you little cuss,’’ shouted the man, savage- ly. “Oh, tales untold! You chill our blood with hor- ror!”? exclaimed Will, in a tragic tone. ‘‘ But, why don’t you come out and let us see how you look?” “Say, you think I’m a fool, don’t ye?” “Certainly!” answered Ranty, . Another muttered imprecation followed, and then a rock, weighing a dozen pounds, came fl ing through the air, and so well aimed that, had not Ranty sprun, hastily aside, it must have struck him. He uttere a deep, hollow groan, as if in agony, and instantly brought his rifle to his face. The result was as he oe Hearing the an the man —s to the edge of the opening, a large, heavy rock in his hands, thinking to take advantage of their attention to their wounded companion, to hurl it upon them, He was only in view a brief instant, as he swung it aloft, but it was enough. The loud report of Ranty’s iece echoed out, and the bullet struck one of his ands, carrying away a finger completely, and, flat- er. against the rock he held, spattered into his face, blinding him for an instant. A loud warning-cry was raised, and a dozen d arms stretched forth but all too late, and losing his balance, the man fell headforemost into the opening! Before he could collect his scattered senses, Albert rushed out, and seizing him by the collar, dragged him into their retreat, while Ranty covered him with his revolver. And there he lay, quaking with fear, no other than the treacherous guide, Warner, who had tare ane to betray the two brave girls into the hands of the savages. ‘Well, you arn’t an over-and-above fair Icoking specimen even of the kind of bipeds you represent, said Ranty, regarding his painted, blood-stained — while Will and Fred were binding his hands and eet. “Now then,’”? demanded Albert, “who are you, and how came you in such bad company?”’ **Ye needn't ask me, fer I shan't tell yer nothin’,” was the sullen nse. “We could make you, if we chose, but we care ery about your identity, and had as soon you would eep it to yourself. However, you undoubt- edly have influence among the yelling horde above, and we will give you a chance for your life. If you will have them withdraw, and give us a mile the start, we will give you your liberty. Otherwise—” and a significant look finished the sentence. This was thrown out as a feeler to determine the osition held by the prisoner among the Indians. e ruffian’s face turned more ghastly than before under the paint and blood. He declared he had no ower among the Indians; he reiterated it in a quak- voice, when Ranty pressed the cold muzzle of his Ferny against his temple, and told him to “talk s Fg ww ag The din above had ceased. The savages were evi- caged 2 tye to see what the young hunters would o next. “You red-skin that can talk,” called Albert, after having questioned their prisoners a little, ‘* come out where we can hear you.” “What want?” responded a guttural voice. “To get out, you old sinner! ‘Keep still, nty, and let me do the talking,’’ ad- monished Albert. ‘If you will draw off, and let us have a half hour’s start,” continued Albert, raising his voice so the Indian could hear, “ we will let him go free; otherwise we won't promise you that you will ever see him again.” “He big heap, much fool; don’ want to see *im any more—put in wood an’ roast you all togedder,”’ responded the Indian. ~ “We'll see about that, you smutty imp!” yelled Ranty wrathfully. “I'll bet you’ll know it when you get us!” “Of course he will,” said Fred. ‘ And it won't be long either. We can’t live in here without food or drink more than three months.”’ ‘““Who said we could?” responded Ranty, setting his gun against the side of the cave, and commenc- to roll up his sleeves, is companions looked at him in amazement. They saw by the expression of his face that he had thought of some plan of a For answer he took Albert by the arm and ng him to the rear end of the cavern, motioned him to bend down, and listen. albert did so. Aheavy, dull roar came faintly to his ears. “The river!” he exclaimed, suddenly. “Exactly,” said Ranty. “It ain’t more than twenty or wbirty, feet through to it, and to-night we'll tunnel out f° Like a flash it entered the mind of each, before Ranty had ceased “4 eee ne They stood looking at each other fora full minute. ere was an easier bry out of the difficulty than they had dreamed of! They commenced the labor at once, while the prisoner lay and watched them, hoping their tunnel would cavein upon them. But, though the ground Beadle’s Half-Dime Library. was not so hard as to render digging ote laborious, it was still solid enough to preclude all danger of its falling in. The work progressed rapidly. When dusk came it seemed from the sound of the water, that they must be nearly through, and they concluded to rest awhile. All were hungry and thirsty, but neither food nor water was to be had till they reached the “outer world.” Their besiegers had settled down, determined to starve them into submissions They little thought how they were spending their time, and the young hunters had ed their prisoner to prevent him from calling anything that would give them a clew as to their operations. After an hour’s rest, they again commenced work. They had been digging but a short time, when Albert, who was ahead, suddenly uttered a suppressed exclamation, Inthrusting his knife dee into the upper edge of the tunnel to commence pull- ing down another course of dirt, it went through into empty space; the dirt crumbled in every di- rection and fell clattering around them, leaving a hole fully two feet in diameter, through which, but for the darkness, a full view of the river could be obtained, They held their breath, expecting the Indians had heard the clatter of the falling dirt, but all was still. They enlarged their outlet a little, and found they had aimed exactly right, having struck a narrow flat of sand that stretched along the river about a foot above the water. Peering out, Albert discovered the savages had a small fire, as the light from it was thrown on the river from the bank, lighting up the dark water as it rolled along. Albert crawled cautiously forth to reconnoiter. In three minutes he returned, and imparted what he had learned to his com ons. e had found a good passage ane the the river's edge where they could retreat with little d r of discovery by the Indians. By peering over the bank, Albert saw a host of the latter squatting about their small fires, smoking and eating. It was decided to leave their prisoner where he was. The Indians would discover their escape be- fore he would be in any danger of starving. “And a little wholesome re ee will do you good, you know,” said Ranty, fixing the gag more securely in his mouth. ‘‘ And remember, when you do get free, not to swear. Besides being wicked, it shows bad bringing Se We are sorry to be obliged to leave you gagged, but you know it can’t be helped in the present case.”’ ““* Pare-ye-well, and if forever,’’’ said Will, as they turned to leave, followed by his scowling looks, te ,we are never destined to meet again, so mote it e:” They passed along their tunnel, and emerged on the narrow, sandy flat. The soft, yielding soil gave back no answering footfalls, and like dusky shadows, they glided along, following down the stream. The bank was covered with short grass, and partly imbedded stones and bowlders; was nearl rpen- dicular, and from five to ten feet high. At one of the highest points, Albert, hearing ogg ty Ae ped upon a stone that lay on the flat close this ank, and this raised him, so that by bracing one foot on the perpendicular bank, and hanging to a bush with his hand, he was enabled to see over the top. They were fully two hundred yards below their starting point, but there, within twenty feet,were sev- eral savages. Albert held his breath, and clun It was a frail one, at the best, and began to give un- der the continued strain brought upon it. But the suspicion of the savages was evidently aroused, for they were looking a ne straight at him, but, in the darkness, the foliage of the bush concealed the part of his head above the bank. The bush settled slowly, and each moment Albert felt it weakening. He was afraid to relinquish his hold, for fear the Indians would hear the noise he would necessarily make in descending, or see the sudden straightening of the bush. But, suspecting something was wrong, Will grasp- ed him from behind and = his whole weight. Albert relinquished the bush slowly, and the next in- stant was standing safe on the ground. But aslight rattling followed, and a small stone came thunde down. With a motion from Albert, all four threw themselves flat on the ground, close to the bank. And none too soon was the precaution taken, for, a moment after, a — sound came from above, and several dusky aces peered over the bank, clear- ly outlined against the sky. But the shadows were deep and dark where the boy-hunters lay, and the eyes of their dusky foes failed to perceive them, and after a somewhat lengthy scrutiny, the faces were withdrawn, and the force of Indians moved off, and soon the sound of their footsteps died away. to his support. CHAPTER XIX. A CAPTURE THAT DIDN’T HOLD. “TRIPE and b’ar’s meat! what ails the hoss? You fidget round wuss nor a Blackfoot with the nettle- You've allers been a well haved hoss, Jimmy, but, by thunder! I b’lieve yer gittin’ over it! In- ang: You sniff as though they war some ‘round, ut hain’t I been out two, three times an’ seen nary sign? Which on us is mistaken? One or t’other, sure.” Thus did old Abe Anderson address his h he stood silently by his side peering about him. first gray light of coming dawn was visible over the tops of the tall pines that lined the mountain side. Twice before had the trapper been called up by the
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actions of his horse, which bespoke danger at hand, and both times he had made a careful reconnois- sance of the place without discovering any signs of an enemy. “*Cur’us,’’ he muttered, glancing mo} A about. “Must be he smells suthin’ or he woul Guess I'll watch a bit, an’ see.” He glided along a few steps, and halted in the deep shadow. Grayer and grayer grew the dawn till ob- jects began to be quite distinct to the view. Old Abe was just about to move from his post, when the rapid tramp of hoofs sounded, and a mo- ment after the sharp detonation of a revolver, fol- eee hy a quick cry, un bly a woman’s call or help! In an inbtent old Abe was in the saddle and spur- ring in the direction of the sound. A dozen bounds of his horse, and he was in full view of an exciting scene. A stalwart savage, mounted on a snorting mus- tang, was in the act of lifting a woman to the saddle before him. It was M Lennox! Old Abe let out a y angry grizzly, and raised his rifle. came too late, for, quick as he had been, the sav. had been quicker, and his mustang, with a single bound, had carried him beyond the trapper’s view. And simultaneously came a crashing in the under- grows, at the hunter’s right, and before he could urn his head, Flo, with her hair loose and falling in a shower behind, and her face pale and terror- stricken, burst into view. “Oh, Uncle Abe, they have carried her off!’’ she cried, excitedly. *Go quick! don’t mind me. Oh, £0, go! “Oh, perdition, here!’’ yelled the trapper, excited- ly. “J cen up here with me—no, thar's her hoss! at’s it! Now come on.”’ For Madge’s horse had suddenly cantered into the open space, and the next instant Flo was on his back, and flying after the trapper like the wind. A dozen bounds and Ned had carried her up even with the latter, “There they go!” exclaimed the trapper sudden- ly; and he loo , Saw the merase, still pons Madge, disappearing around a clump of copse- w a hundred yards ahead. The next moment they passed over the spot, and the next drew a quick rein to escape plunging into a small stream tha’ i weneig | penne their way. It had a swift current with a gravelly bed, and five preceus minutes passed before Abe Anderson could etermine, positively, which course the savage had taken after entering it. “ He’s went up-st ” he announced, sprin; again to the saddle. And they were galloping ong La aes as fast as the splashing water would per- Meanwhile the boys were putting as much distance as possible between them and the scene of their late adventure, “ * Puck found it handier to commence With a certain share of impudence,’”’ sung Ranty, in a disconsolate sotto voce, ** and I com- menced that way, but it’s all as effectually gone as the last meal I eat. Just to reflect that we haven't had a blessed mouthful of anything since six o'clock this morning! It’s a darn’d shame, and I'll say it if it don’t sound well! The exigency of the case de- mands it!”’ “Hope on, hope ever; bad luck never can last forever. Cheer up, my son Randolph! If that pas- sage isn’t exactly like the original, it will doin the present case. Eh?" and Will poked his elbow affec- tionately into Ranty’s ribs, “You look out!” returned Ranty. I'll eat you rE on FY called Gk Albert, sto ddenl. : ' ow ip suddenly, ms daylight will soon be on hand. It Bakcay grow- ing grey in the east and— advice would be to stop and cook our break- fast, if we had the wherewith,” interrupted Fred. ‘There will be more danger when the daylight comes, but there’s no other way but to wait.” They went on down the stream. Now and then it spread out on some little flat, prey asmall space of wre water, covered. ¥ re reeds and lilies. As soon as dawn appeared ‘our commenced scannin; these spots in search of ducks. They soon espied & couple which a single shot brought down. These were cooked and made a most welcome breakfast to the four nearly famished fugitives. They were now in a well-timbered, somewhat rocky country, and Albert thought it best to leave the moon! which they had m following, and strike directly into it, ey would, no doubt, soon — a suitable place, where they could rest and be safe. The sun was but a short distance above thetree- tops when they halted in a spot well-sheltered, and in which they determined to stay a few hours. Al- bert volunteered to keep guard, and in five minutes the three tired boy-hunters were fast ee: Arlington roamed hither and yon about the place, but eve was quiet, and it seemed as though the deep solitude never been broken by the voice of man, But suddenly there were other sounds than those made by the 8. They grew louder and louder, till Arlington plainly distinguished them as made by a horse ridden rapidly through the forest. But, be- fore he could stir, it burst into view. It was a powerful mustang, and on his back was a painted savage holding Madge Lennox before him in such a manner that her arms were pinioned to her sides. recognized her at once. The mustang was within a dozen feet of him be- t act so. | not unlike the roar of an | But the action | face The Boy Rifles. 1 fore its riders saw him. With a tremendous bound, he caught the bridle-rein with his left hand, while his right held a revolver, which covered the breast of the astonished warrior. With a yell of terror, the savage released his hold on the prisoner, and slid to the ground on the oppo- site side of his horse, and springing into the woods, disappeared in an instant! Madge sprung to the ground and held out her hand. Her face was flushed with excitement; her wavy, nut-brown hair was unconfined, and Albert thought he had never seen such a vision of loveliness as ted him when he raised his eyes to her face. ““T undoubtedly owe my life to you,’’ she said, in her soft, musical voice. ‘‘I never can pay the debt, but, believe me, I am very teful!” “IT beg your pardon, but it is I, instead of you who should be gra . You saved myself an companions while on the river, and this is only the first installment of thedebt. But you had acompan- ion—where is she?” A smile was da on Madge’s lips, but it died away, and alook of deep concern spread over her ‘* Safe, I trust—I do not know—but look!”’ He looked where she pointed. Some distance away, and far above, their late enemy was just disappear- around a circular ledge of rocks. ‘* My friends are in trouble!’ exclaimed Arlington hurriedly. ‘‘Secrete yourself here, while I go to their relief. I will return for you!” He bounded toward the spot, and reached it a moment after, to find half a dozen horses held fast sight. three companions. But not an enemy was in t. ‘There wasn’t only one Indian, and he pretty near run over us!” exclaimed Will, as Albert came Te: “Ranty popped away at him, and he slid off his horse and departed, ‘ where the woodbine twin- oe Sh me pa . there stood Madge, and e broke off suddenly, for there e, behind her, Flo and ed abe! 3 Nero’s fiddle, boys, I’m struck all of a heap! I'm 'stonished like blazes. Oh, Lordy, ain’t I though? This are better nor roast er-hump. How did ye ali git here?” “* Walked,”’ responded Ranty, laconically. Old Abe removed the glazed cap that adorned his head, and ran his rough, horn ers through his izzly locks. He had suddenly remembe' that some sort of introduction was e , for the noms stood gazing at his two fair companions un- able to gx their gaze from them. ** Boys,” he said at last, “this ere big girl is Miss M Lennox, an’ this t’other little one is Florrie Stanley. Gals, this chap here is Albert Arlington, a dern’d good boy, an’ captain of this ‘ere band, an’ these three t’other ones is his subjects,’’ and the trapper named over the three blushi ——s hunters. ‘Now, that ain’t ’cordin’ to cane, § ons, s’pose, but it’s the best old Abe can do, so go at it an’ git acquainted,” and the trapper replaced his cap and stared at them as if for a wager. Not a hard thing to do,” responded Albert. “But I am anxious to know of your adventures. I just had the good fortune to rescue Miss Lennox, = Pig like to know how she fell into the savage’s ands. “T am almost ashamed to tell, it was done so foolishly,” replied Madge. ‘“‘We were both under the protection of Uncle Abe—as he has pogooeied us to call him—and this morning at just grent I awoke and found him gone. of course knew he was not far away, and as Flo was asleep, I thought I would walk about a little, and while doing so, this sav sprung and caught me before I saw him. I had en the precaution to pocket my revolve and when he was carrying me to his horse, I fired a him, but he struck my coon away, and I missed. Then I called for help, thinking Uncle Abe would hear me. He fortunately did, but too late to rescue me. For that Iam indebted to Mr. Arlington.” Old Abe was listening intently to e, and had not éven glanced toward the horses. t was his surprise, when he did, to see Flo, with her arms about the neck of one, and to hear her call it *‘ Bes- sie,’’ while Ranty was standing by talking and ex- plaining as volubly as though he had been acquaint- ed for years, instead of minutes. And then as the trapper’s eyes wandered over. the rest of the horse- Froup, an exclamation of surprise escaped his pe, hey were the identical ones he was taking to the young hunters when he first discovered ge and Flo. It will be remembered that he had taken them to a spot, intending to leave them till after he should guide the ls to their destination. It was on this spot that they had camped the night before. “There were o two of the Indians, I think,” said Madge. ‘ At it, I saw only one besides the one who captured me. He had all the horses but mine, and was attempting to get him, when my cap- tor called to him to desist.” A “council of war” was immediately held by the male members of the band, while Madge and Flo sat near the horses on the roots of a shady tree. an hour after, the five came over where they were. ** We've concluded ter move right away,” explain- ed the old hunter. “Them two p’isen varmints ‘ill spread the news o’ us all over, an’ then we'll find warmer times than we'll want. We've all got horses now, an’ we can eat going along. They’s pervision "nou h in the saddle-bags. So we'll git ready to one And fifteen minutes after they were on the march, under old Abe? guidance. ‘And then experiences were exchanged, and adventures recoun as they rode along under the hazy sky. —_ CHAPTER XX, HOME AGAIN! ‘Tarn’? no use to fret. We're caged up. Maybe we can git out in two days, an’ maybe in two weeks; that is pervidin’ we keep shady. we don’t, more’n likely we won’t git out at all.’ And after delivering himself of this, old Abe An- derson settled down upon the jutting corner of a bowlder, and, with his rifle across his knees, quietly regarded the dismayed faces before him. This was the third day since the events last record- ed. The Indians were now thoroughly awake to the fact that a considerable party of whites were tres- os mpd on their dominions, and parties were scour- in every direction. They had narrowly escaped some of these, and that morning while they were looking for a shelter from a coming storm, which had been brewing for the t two days, they ran unexpectedly upon, and h sharp fight with one of these parties. They had come out conquerors, but some of the In had escaped, and these would of course spread the news of their where- abouts to their companions. Taking this view of the case Abe Anderson, as “captain,” at once led the party to one of his re- treats in the mountains. It was a dark, secluded ravine, with rocky banks, in which were numerous caves and grottoes, in one of which they had taken The three daya of companionship and danger, had acquainted the young people as much as months of ordinary intercourse. The horses which the trapper had taken so much pains to secure for ppm a J hunters had been ac- cepted without any q of conscience, for old Abe assured them that they were not of as much value as the furs, traps and horses which the In- dians had stolen from him at different times. After the information im by the old trap- per, every one was silent for a full minute. Albert was the tos 2 ‘**7 can be content here for an indefinite period,” he said, glancing at M who sat near. “I don’t ae the opinion of the rest is concerning the matter. ST muttered Ranty, in an aside to Flo. right at Madge as if she was all the one Madge heard the low ken words, and her cheeks were suffused with blushes, not so much it must be confessed at them, as at her hero’s ardent 4 “* Tt’s raining like suds,”’ announced Will Macdonald, putting his head out the cave entrance an instant. , It’s my humble opinion they won't track us very much. And in view thereof, with plenty to eat as a proviso, I’ll be contented for a month if neces- sary rather than depart while the ander-jibba-ways inhabit this immediate vicinity.” ‘He means the aboriginals,” explained Fred, a logetically glancing at the rest. “His education been sadly neglected.” “You keep still,” admonished Will, from a dark corner of the room. “Wal,” said old Abe, rising and stretc him- self, ‘“‘ I’m goin’ out ter see if the hosses is ht for the night, and I kin eat a pound slice of roasted buffiler, when I come back."’ And with this gentle hint, he crawled a the entrance, to the thick bushes that grew about it, where he took a long survey of the surroundings. But nothing met his eye save the long, slanting lines of rain, and the dripping boughs. It was growing quite du spot where the horses were. It was well sheltered from observation from all points and contained a plentiful supply of grass for several days. The mies age among them, giving each a word or pat, and after seeing that they were all se- cure, returned to the cave. The appetizing odor of roasting meat greeted him at one + epee ee despite a ne meng dan- e was a happy compan at he. about the large, tlat bowkir they Sad iuprovined as a e. Nothing happened worthy of record. during the next three days. It rained the greater part of the time, and none ventured any distance outside, except old Abe; and he only very early in the morning or just at night. On this last day he came in quite late, — — they had all gathered about their supper, e said: “Wal, boys and gals, the promised time hes come. I've diskivered sum'thin’, an’ ter-morrer we'll move.” All were anxious to hear what the “sum’thin’” was, and the trapper went on: “T run right s onter that Warner an’ a lot of reds to-night. They were confabin’ under some rocks, an’ so I crawled up an’ listened. An’ then one says to t’other, ‘Thought I heerd su’thin’,’ an’ then they all listened, but I kept stiller’n a scart coyote; an’ presently Warner on ter say that he didn’t believe we's anywhar “bout here, ‘cos why, a red had jest come from further up the river, and hed see’d some whites up thar that he were ty sure war us. An’ then they pulled up stakes and slid out, an’ the las’ .—_ heerd war that they’s goin’ ter start airly in the mornin’ for these other fellers; so all pene ter do is to pack up our duds an’ emi- gral It was welcome news, and at daylight the follow- ing mo they were astir. We want to go by the cave, and get our th don’t we?” Ranty asked, as he strapped his blank answered Albert. ‘We shall probably lose them if we don’t. We are all that we have had enough of adven and have voted on a return to the settlements, and thence home. Who knows whether we will ever be in these parts again? sk when he reached the’ encephalitis seis
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Se ee SS BH 4s a. S Se “ a Abe will come back, though.” He says it is his inten- tion to spend the autumn in trapping. So why not leave them for him?” **Oh, Lordy, boys—’’. began the old trapper, in an expostulating tone. But Albert's idea struck such a responsive chord in his companions, that they over- ruled the old hunter’s objections before he could ut- ter them, and the traps, furs and accouterments left in the cavern up the river were willed unani- mously to him ‘to have and hold forevermore.” Which last clause of course emanated from Ranty’s glib tongue. So it was settled; and the party took up their line of mareh. Old Abe and “the captain” took the lead, Madge and Flo came next, and Ranty, Fred and Will brought up the rear. But the day was dark and lowering, and along toward noon the warn- ing drops peowed that their three days’ rain was not yet ended, ‘‘T hate this putterin’ round in the dust,” re- marked old Abe as they went into. camp an hour later and he commenced “clawing’’ about among the dripping undergrowth in a search for some- thing dry with which to start. a fire. “If it would only rain a little to kinder dampen things up.” “T would willingly part with some of the surplus moisture hanging about me,” laughed Albert, as he assisted Madge to alight. . “‘ But it is slacking up and the clouds are breaking. Who knows but what the balance of the day may be fine?” So it proved, and when night fell they had put many miles between them and their noon camp. “Wal, boys,” said the old trapper the next morn- ing, “if we have good luck, three_o’clock to-day we'll strike Kibby’s tradin’-post.. .How does. thet make the gals feel?” “ Encouraged at least,” answered Madge. .“‘ But I believe, in her heart, Flo wishes we could have a little brush with the Indians again!"’ ; ‘“We may before night whether I wish it or not,” Flo answered, gravely. At ten o’clock, Abe Anderson, who was a little in advance, rode back and said: “We can’t go any further this way, boys. They’s more'n fifty reds camped right over the hill, an’ Warner’s among ’em. They won't be no piece for nary a white, till that cuss is oe out of the way.”’ There was nothing for it but to make a defour, But before they had gone a quarter of a mile, the shar detonations of a score of rifles burst on the air, fol- lowed by wild yells and more shots; all in the direc- tion of the savages. “Som’thin's run a-foul of them, by mighty!” ex- claimed Abe. ‘An’ the whole bizness is movin’ this way, sure’s yer born. Git under cover quick!’ He forced his horse into the thick undergrowth, followed closely by the rest. And an instant after a large party of terrified Indians came dashing past, some mounted, others on foot, but all fleeing at their topmost speed. And behind came a score or more of mounted whites, firing as they ran. But just as they came opposite where our friends were, a loud commanding voice halted them, and the trapper and his companions rode forth. “Ah! who have we here?” exclaimed the com- mander. And then as he caught a plainer view of the trapper, he continued: ‘By my soul, if it ain't old Abe Anderson!” and he hastened forward to shake the grizzled hunter by the hand. It was a cordial meeting, for the two were old friends. And then Abe introduced his companions. “We are now on our way to Kibby’s post, and very glad of your company we shall be,’’ said Cap- tain Travers. ‘‘We were not as cautious as we should have been, for the Indians attacked us before we saw them. However, we killed some of their number and put the rest to flight, without any loss ourselves.” They returned to the scene of the attack, and the capta n ordered the men to bury the dead Indians. Look-a-here!”’ suddenly exclaimed Ranty, who was poking about among the dead bodies. ‘If here isn’t that scamp, Warner, dead enough too, I'll war- rant!” A al rolled him over; his limbs were already stiff. ‘** He’s no deader’n he ought ter be,” avowed Abe. ** He's done mischief ’nough, an’ it’s a good wan They buried him with the rest and then the whole party continued on their course, and while the sun was some distance above the horizon the walls of Kibby’s post came in sight. “Tt seems good to see a civilized habitation again,” confessed Madge, as they alighted at the gates. The inmates gave them a warm welcome, and several days passed pleasantly under its roof. Our company was alone in one of the rooms one morn- ing when old Abe came in. ‘Yer all safe an’ sound now,”’ he remarked, seat- ing himself on a camp-stool, ‘an’ I’ve about made up my mind ter go back to the hunting-grounds.” A moment’s silence followed. “T want a little conversation with you,’ said Albert, rising, ‘‘ and I think I can persuade you from the notion of returning now.” The two went out together, but in five minutes they were back, but just before they reached the door our party heard the trapper say ‘Wal, by thunder! I’m ’mazed to pieces, an’ I can’t git over it.” And he did certainly look mystified as he came in, but he went straight up to Madge, and shook hands as heartily as I he hadn't seen her in months. And for an instant Madge’s face was flushed with the tell-tale blood till it was a vivid scarlet. “Oh, Lordy!’’ exclaimed Abe, as he saw it. “I couldn't blush like that if I war goin’ ter get married forty times! Youngsters,’ continued the old hunter, waving his ca » and ad ng society in general, “ Youngsters, /’ve got an invite to a weddin’, an’ it’s Beadle’s' Half-Dime Library. | Flo is comin | the fust one this ’coon ever had, an’ I’ll kick a toe at it, if I don’t catch a beaver fer a year! Oh, Lordy, to think! But I tell you, it’s the most ‘stonishin bad Ky i should think it was,” returned Ranty, in an in- jured tone. ‘“ Here, we've campaign together among the Indians, and run numberless chances of not getting eat up, and now he’s been getting ready to get married, and that, too, without sa: a word of his intentions to his bosom friends and fellows in distress! I never heard of such a proceeding!”’ ‘*I told Madge,” plead Albert, in a penitent tone. This .raised a general laugh, in which blushing Madge joined. - “Home at last! Oh, how good it seems!” It was Madge Lennox who uttered the words, as she looked at Albert, who. rode by her side. And close behind them, Ranty, Will, Fred, Flo, and the old trapper. They had halted in front of a large, beautiful house surrounded by spacious unds, and a moment af- ter were dismounting at its gates, I will skip the joyous meeting that followed. And Mrs. Lennox listened with bated breath while Madge related their adventu and thanked Heaven in her heart that her darling come through them un- scathed. The two weeks that followed were filled with contentment for the whole company, and espe- cially so. to Albert and Madge, who dreamed away the bright, sunny days in perfect happiness. Old Abe had been taken in by our young hunters before reaching the mansion, and he now walked about cleanly shaven, his hair trimimed, and a “ civi- ) otelg suit of clothes, in place of his trapper-cos- ume, The wedding of Albert and Madge which followed, took place at her own home in presence of the family and a few guests. Old Abe tree gar in the joy- ousness of the occasion., and danced with the bri pete io a variety of steps, to the amusement of But the time for parting came. Old Abe must go back to the frontier, but before he went, our four boy-hunters purchased a rifle and side-arms of the most egress pattern, and presented them to the surprised and ee old trapper, amid an impos- ing ceremony, and a speech from Albert. ‘But it’s only lent, you know,” Ranty said, while the good-byes were being spoken. ‘‘ Albert's mar- ried, to be sure, but we three ain’t, and by and by we are coming out there to trap and hunt again, and out to get lost, and you will have to be guide again to get her back safe—with us to help, of course, and J intend to be the hero at the winding up | of the affair!” ' caused Flo to blush ve Which caused a general laugh of course, and also prettily in her confusion. Will Macdonald, Ranty, and Fred returned to their respective homes, Albert and Madge settled down in- toa happy, contented married pair, and old Abe re- turned the plains to follow his old vocation of trapp! 7 hunting. And thus to each and all we say -by. THE NEW YORE Fireside Library. 1 Was Sur His Wire? Mrs. Ma AB fF ET BU OO ST, aed PETE OS. SSSA 20. 9 Toe War or Hearts. Corinne Cushman... 10c. 10 LeicuTron GRANGE. Miss M. FE. Braddon ..... 10c. 11 THe FALSE Wipow. Mrs. J. D. Burton ...... 10c, 12-13 Lost FoR Love. Miss M. E. Braddon...... 20¢ 14-15 TorLeRS OF THE SEA. By Victor Hugo..... 20c. 16 THE Octoroon, By Miss M. E. Braddon .... 10c. 17-18 UncLe Stuas. By J. 8S. Le Fanu ........ 20c. 19-20 DeAp-SEzA Frurr. Miss M. E. Braddon..... 20e. 21-22 LirrLe Kate Kirpy. F. W. Robinson...... 20c. 23 SowING THE WinD. Mrs. Mary R. Crowell.... 10c. 24-25 Brrps of Prey. Miss M. E. Braddon ..... 20c. 26 Tuat Boy or Norcort’s. Charles Lever .. . 10c, 29 A Giru’s Hearr. By Rett Winwood ese ae ae Rep As A Rose ts Sue. By Rhoda Brough- ats see ae ee ee OP CY eR ey e 82 Toe Lity or St. Erne. By Mrs. Crow ...... 10e. 383 STRANGELY WED. By Mrs. J. D. Burton...... 10c. 34 Toe Gipsy BRIDE. M. E. O. Malen........ 10e. 385 Annie TEMPLE. ag 3 v. J. H. Ingraham.... 10c. 36 Wrrnour Mercy. By Bartley T. Campbell... 10c, 37 Buack Eyes anp Buivur. By Corinne Cush- a . Sota eut ee 88 Brave Barbara. By Corinne Cushman...... 10c, 89 A DanGrErous Woman. By Margaret Blount.. 10c. 40 Ovrpa’s Love. By Henrietta E. DeConde.. . 10c. 41 Lost: A Wire. By Corinne Cushman.. ..... 10¢. 42 Wiynina Ways. By Margaret Blount ....... 10c. 43 A Woman’s Heart. By Mrs. M. V. Victor .. 10c. A new issue every week. For sale by all newsdealers, or sent, postage paid, on receipt of twelve cents for single numbers, double numbers twenty-four cents. BEADLE & ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William street, N. Y. The Model Weekly! The Respectable Popular Paper Home Weekly of New York. The New York Saturday Journal | For 1878. WITHOUT A RIVAL as a sterling journal of Wholesome Literature for family fireside ree It is conceded that for stories of purely American life and adventure it has no peer. IN STORIES OF HEART LIFE, where love is portrayed in all its power and purity, it leads all others. IN ROMANCES OF ADVENTURE for our young men and boy readers, no other weekly published can compare with it in first class merit. ITS SPECIALTIES: Washington Whitehorn, Joe Jot, Jr., Beat Time, as humorists; Ths Parson’s Daughter, Eve Lawless and Garry Gaines as essayists of marked original- ity; Launce Poyntz, C. Dunning Clark, Major Max Martine, who, in their different “series” of adven- ture on land and sea, are unapproachable in their special field—all aiding in making the JouRNAL the ever welcome, genial guest to thousands of homes, OF EXCLUSIVE AUTHORS, those writing only for the SarurpAyY JoURNAL—no other weekly can boast of a better corps. Capt, Mayne Reid, the modern J. Fenimore Cooper of romantic adventure in the Far West and South West, who commands the admiration of a world of readers. Albert W. Aiken, in his city life and wild ro- mance ot the mines of the West, has not a su- perior. Mrs. Wary Reed Crowell stands at the front as a writer of dramatic fiction of the best class. Oll Coomes, in his boys’ tales of adventure in the Indian country, is incomparable and unchal- lenged in his field. Corinne Cushman, in serials of Love and Boaiety, and of Girls’ Life, ‘‘is a bright, particular star.’ Joseph E. Badger, Jr.°s thrilling dramatic stories of prairie and mountain life, adventure and character, stand pre-eminent. Charles Morris, the Charles Dickens of Amer- ica, in stories ot boys’ life in our great cities. Capt, Frederick Whittaker, whose_his- tori romances stamp him as the Free Lance of light literature. Col. Delle Sara, the man of many lands and many adventures, who tells his story witha dash- ing, graphic pen. Col, Prentiss Ingraham, who is equally ‘*at home” on land or on the sea. Rett Winwood, never failing in deep, abiding interest. Mary Grace Halpine, the keen reader of human nature and vivacious novelist. These and many others make each issue of the paper A BRILLIANT LITERARY WORLD. The list of sketch and short story contributors is especially strong, embracing, beside the names above mentioned, such authors as Eben E, Rexford, Lucille Hollis, Mattie Dyer Britts, Henri Montcalm, T. C. Harbaugh, Hap Hazard, Edward L. Wheeler, Capt. Charles Howard, A. W. Bellaw, Maro O. Rolfe, Jennie Davis Burton, Roger Starbuck, etc. IN *“ DEPARTMENTS” the Saturpay Jocrnat vies with ail other weekiies in novelty, interest and usefuiness. Answers to Se of the Times—Work and Play—sSports and awe nee = org Par- agraphs—all are distinguished by a freshness, origi- nality and suggestiveness that render them enter- taining and valuable Features. The Saturday Journal is Published Weekly at the following rates: For four months.........-. .....esees L este $1.00 Por ous years: 20 ress. ae SUN ES. et 3.00 Two copies for ome year................. U0 008 5.00 Single Sopies 65 I. es A ene TL er 6cts. Supplied by all newsdealers, BEADLE AND ADAMS, Pus.isHers, 98 WILLiAm St., New Yor, iA ——_ <=
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Beadle & Adams’ Standard Dime Publications. Speakers. BEADLE AND ADAms have now on their lists the follow- fmg highly desirable and attractive text-books », Dre- pared expressly for schools, families, etc. Each volume contains 100 large pages, p comprising the Best col Recitations, (burlesque, comic and otherwise.) he season of 187/—as far as now Dime Speakers for ted from clear, open type. lection of Dialogues, Dramas and The issued—embrace eighteen volumes, viz.: 1, American Speaker, 2. National Speaker. 3. Patriotic Speaker, 4. Comic Speaker, 5. Elocutionist. 6. Humorous Speaker. 7. Standard Speaker. 8. Stump Speaker. 9. Juvenile Speaker, 10. Spread-Eagle Speaker. 11. Dime Debater. 12. Exhibition Speaker. 13, School Speaker. 14. Ludicrous Speaker. 15. Komikal Speaker. 16. Youth’s Speaker. 17. Eloquent Speaker. 18. Hail Columbia Speaker. 19. Serio-Comic Speaker. 20. Select Speaker. These books are replete with choice pieces for the School-room, the Exh ition, for Homes, etc. They are drawn from FRESH sources, and contain some of the choicest oratory of the times, % to 100 Declamations and Recitations in each book. Dialogues. The Dime Dialogues, each volume 100 pages, embrace twenty books, viz.: Dialogues No, One. Dialogues No. Two, Dialogues No, Three, Dialogues No, Four. Dialogues No. Five. Dialogues No, Six, Dialogues No. Seven, Dialogues No. oy Dialogues No. Nine. Dialogues No. Ten. Dialogues No, Eleven, 15 to % Dialogues and These volumes have been prepared Dialogues No. Twelve. Dialogues No, Thirteen. Dialogues No. Fourteen. Dialogues No. Fifteen. Dialogues No. Sixteen. Dialogues No. Seventeen. Dialogues No. Eighteen. Dialogues No. Nineteen. Dialogues No. Twenty, Dialogues No. Twenty-one. Dialogues No. Twenty-two. ramas in e¢ach book. with especial re- ference to their availability in all school-rooms. They are adapted to schools with or without the furniture of @ stage, and introduce a scholars of every grade, bo' e of characters suited to male and female. It is fair to assume that no volumes yet offered to schools, at d useful amy price, contain 60 many ava logues dia- and dramas, serious and comic. A NEW BOOK OF POPULAR Dramas and Readings. 164 12mo Pages. ® Cents. For Schools, Parlors, Entertainments and the Amateur Stage, comprising Original Minor Dram: Farce, Drese Pleven, Humorous Dialogue and by noted writers; and Recitations and Comedy, lesque, , new ings, and standard, of the greatest celebrity and interest. Edi ussell, ted by Prof. A. M. Ri DIME HAND-BOOKS. Young People’s Series. Brap.z’s Dam Haxp-Books FoR YOuxG PEOPLE cover a wide rai their en The most useful wor circulation. Ladies’ Letter-Writer. Gents’ Letter-Writer. Book of Etiquette. Book of Verses. Book of Dreams. of subjects, and are especially adapted to constitute at once the cheapest and yet put into the market for popular Book of Games. Fortune-Teller. overs aya all-room Companion, Book of Beauty. Hand Book of Games. Beapie’s Dome Hanp-Booxs oF GAMES AND POPULAR HAnpD-Booxks cover a variety of subjects, and are especi- ally adapted to their end. Base-Bal! Player for 1877. Book of Croquet, Chess Instructor. Sricket and Football, Guide to Swimmi Yachting and Ro Riding and Driving. Book of Pedestrianism, Manual for Housewives. Brapie’s Dims FAaMiy Serres alms to supply a class of text-books and manuals fitted for ever rson’s use— the old and the young, the learned an: unlearned, They are of conceded value, 1. Cook Book. 4, Family Physician. 2. Recipe Book, 6. Dressmaking and - 3. Housekeeper’s Guide, Lives of Great Americans. Are presented complete and authentic plographies of e many of the men w © have added luster to public by their lives and deeds. The series embraces: 1—Georgs Washington. Il.—John Paul Jones. Ul.—Mad Anthony Wayne. TV.—Ethan Allen. V.—Marquis de Lafayette. V1.—Daniel Boone. VIL.—David Crockett. .—Israel Putnam, IX.—Kit Carson, X.—Tecumseh. Xi.—Abraham Lincoln. —Pontiac, These beautiful books are complete in one volume— one hundred large 12mo pages each, and sold by all mewsdealers; or sent, st-paid, to ad ad, oan paid, any dress, receipt of price—ten ce on SONG BOOKS. BEADLE’s Dore Sone Boos, Nos, 1 to 38, con onl dn the mar taining the popular solleotion of copyright songs to be found MISCELLANEOUS DIME BOOKS. Robtuson Crusoe, Pocket Joke Book, Jim Crow Joke Book. Paddy Whack Joke Book. The above publications for sale by al! newsdealers, or will be sent & id BEAD ADAMS, 0 Witum Brow e Ye price, by LE DIME NOVELS. » | Incomparable in Merit. Unapproachable in Price. a Be very careful not to confound these books with those of other publishers, sold at the same price, The vast success of the Dime Novels called into existence “Ten Cent Novels,” which the public is sometimes de- ceived in bu nee Dime Novels. The only Dime Novels are those published by BEADLE AND ADAMS, whose copy- right trade-mark and signet the word “Dime” Novel te. Ask always for BEADLE’s Dime Novels, and you will then get what you wish. The following comprises a com- plete list as far as published. Num omitted are out of print. 2 The Privateer’s Cruise. {| 246 The White Apache. 8 Myre. 249 The Squaw hem, 9 The Slave Sculptor. 250 The Border Renegade, 10 The Backwoods Bride. | 252 The Prairie Scourge. 11 Prisoner La Vintresse, 256 Antelope Abe, 14 The Emerald Necklace. ite Brave. 16 Uncle Ezekiel, 263 The Border Huntress. 17 Madge Wilde. 264 Mountain Kate. 22 The Maid of Esopus, 268 The Specter Riders. 23 Winifred Winthrop. 269 The Yo: M 24 The Trail Hunters. 270 Black Panther. 25 The Peon Prince. 271 The Gray Hunter. 80 Put. Pomfret’s Ward. | 272 voi and, 81 Double Hero, 273 Little Thunderbolt 82 Irona. 274 The Sea 276 Two Hanteg Mat. 277. Abdiel, the Avenger. 278 Boon, the Hunter, 279 The Girl Captain. 230 Border Ven 83 Maum Guinea, We, % Ruth Margerie, 8 East and West. 86 Riflemen of the Miami. 88 The ayy Man. laim. 89 The Land 281 The Black Spy. 40 Union’s Daughter, 2c. | 282 Ruby Rolan #2 The King’s Man. 283 The Lone Chief. 44 Agnes Falkland. 284 The Young Spy. 46 Wreck of the Albion. e Masked Av 47 Tim Bumble’s Charge. | 287 Ethan Allen’s Rifles, 61 The Two Guards, 53 Hates and Loves. 54 le. 298 The Tonkawa Spy. 56 mo’s Plot. 204 The Rival Rovers 60 Jo Daviess’ Client. 29% Arkansas Kit. 61 Laughing Eyes. 296 Death ". 62 The Unknown. 297 Black Nick, 68 The Indian Princes. 2% The H ae 64 Rangers of Mowhawk. | 299 Mossfoot, the ve. 6 The Wrecker’s Prize. | 300 The Crested Serpent. 6) Black Hollow.” 302 Cuban Gonspi ac ollow. uban Conspirators, 0 The Indian Queen. 808 The Corsair Prince. 72 The Moose Hunter. 86 The Girl Scout, 73 The Silver Bugle. 306 Caribou Zip, 4 Cruiser of Chesapeake, Glass 77 Quindaro. 810 Foghorn Phil 81 The Two Hunters. $11 Sonora Ben. & The Serpinale Chief. 4 Dick Darl x The Fugitives. e Red Brotherhood. 86 Red Plume. $14 Rival Lieutenants. 87 On the Dee 315 Tiger Heart, Tracker. Sou i Tippy the Bu - ast Away. Ppp e Texan. 91 The Lost Cache. $18 The ne Ch 9 Eph Peters. 820 The Child Spy, 9 Little Moccasin. 1 Honest Hand The Doomed Hunter. Grizzly. 98 Ruth Harland. 823 The Dashing Dragoons. 100 Karaibo, 824 Will-o’-the-Wisp, 101 Maid of Wyoming. 85 Dashing Dick. 102 Hearts Forever. $26 Old Crossfire, 06 Simple Phy. "| B28 The Brigmed Captains. mple 4 a The Peddler Spy. + ae A na ped. ray Hair, the 110 The Hie den Home, 831 The) trie ous 112 The Falcon Rover, 118 Rattlepate. 114 Ned Starling, 115 The Sons of Liberty. 119 The Five Companions. 121 Vailed Benefactress. 12 Barden, the Ranger. S41 Red Ax, 123 The Missing Bride, $42 Stella, the Spy. 124 Sumter's Scouts. $43 The White Avenger, 125 The Hunted Life, 844 The Indian King. 127 Bald Eagle. 345 The Long Trail. 12238 The Guich Miners, 846 Kirk, the Guide. 129 Blackeyes. 347 The Phantom TrafL 132 Old Honesty. 348 The Apache Guide, 133 Yankee ae $49 The Mad Miner. 135 The Cherokee Chief. 850 Keen Eye, the Ranger. 137 The Traitor Spy. 851 Blue Bat, Guide, ” ae Border cee = ox the Trail e amore of Saco, y © Specter Spy. 147 Maid of the Mountain. | 84 Old Bald H 154 Rob Ruskin. 159 Snowbird. 162 The Border Rivals, 165 The Unseen Hand, 1600 The White Canoe, 856 Sib Cone, Trapper. 857 The Bear Santer 8583 Bashful Bill, Spy. 859 The White Chine. 176 The Trader Spy. 860 Cortina, the urge. 180 Giant Pete, the Patriot.| 361 The Squaw fh 28 Masked Guide. 862 Scout of "76, 205 The ey Scalp. 863 Spanish Jack. 207 The Buffalo Trapper. 864 Masked Spy. 212 Silver Spur. 213 Squatter Dick. 214 The Forest Monster. 215 The White Hermit, 319 The Beloto woo e€ Scio ute, 221 The Blue Cli r. 865 Kirke, the Renegad 866 Dingle, the Outlaw. 38 Montbare tha es on , th pf potamora. . 20% i ornpath, the Trailer, 871 Foul-weather Jack, 223 King of the Mountain. | 872 The Black Rider. 24 The Mohave Captive, 873 The Helpless Hand. 227 The Forest Princess, 874 The Lake Rangers, 223 The Mute Chief. 875 Alone on the Plains, 230 The Partisan Spy. 876 Phantom Horseman. oa The Forest ae Ha Mi it, th pe en ot, the Slayer. 237 The Plymouth Scout, 379 The Phantom Ship. = 239 Old Zip. 880 The Red Rider. 240 Swiftwing. 241 Mink Coat. 3 he Bis Prnoon 6 Dla 344 Keoetsea. $81 The Grizzly-Hunters, S33 The Specter Skip 5 ie Specter ‘° SH The Red — Coy ote, «J The Hunchback, $86 The Black Wizard #1 387 The Mad Horseman 402 The Red $88 The Privateer’s Bride | 403 The First Trail 889 The Jaguar Queen 404 Sheet-Anchor Tom, 890 Shadow Jack 405 old Avoirdupois 391 Eagle Plume 406 White Gladiator $92 The Ocean Outlaw 407 Bive Clipper $93 Red Slayer 408 Dan $94 The Phantom Foe 409 The Fire-Eater 8% The Blue Anchor 410 Blackhawk 896 The Red-Skin’s Pledge | 411 The Lost Ship 897 The Quadroon Spy 412 Black Arrow 398 The Black Rover 413 White Serpent 399 oo -Belt, the Tuscarora ers in Press. THE ILLUMINATED DIME POCKET NOVELS, Comprising the best works only of the most popular liv- ing ces to ea field of American romanse, Each issue a complete novel, with illuminated cover, rivaling in effect the popular chromo. 1 Hawkeye Harry 64 Arkansas Jack 2 Dead Shot 55 kbeard $ The Boy Miners 86 The River Rifles 4 Blue Dick 57 Hunter Ham 5 Nat Wolfe 68 Cloudwood White ker 59 The Texas Hawks 7 The Outlaw’s Wife 60 Merciless Mat 8 The Tall pper 61 Mad Anthony’s Scouts 9 Lightning ee €@2 The Luckless Tra 10 The Island 63 The Florida 11 The Boy 64 The Island Trapper 2 a per 6 Wolf-Ca ld Long Shot & Hattling Diok ng ‘ e 5 @ erof the Border| 68 Iron‘Hand 16 Red d 69 The Yellow Hunter 17 Ben, the The Phantom Rider 18 Wild Raven, Delaware ‘tom 19 The Penge Chi Silver Rifle 20 The B’ar-Killer 78 The Skeleton Scout 21 Wild Nat % Little Rifle 33 Old Kent, the hanger | 46 Old iat, the Tra en e uw 2% The One- byed Trapper | 77 The Scariet ouldere 25 Godbol e Spy 78 The Border Rifleman 26 The Black Ship 79 Outlaw Jack 27 sage Eye 80 Tiger Tail, the Seminole 28 Indian 81 Death Dealer 29 The Scout & Kenton, the Ranger 30 Eagle Eye $8 The 8 er Horseman 81 The Mystic Canoe & The ‘Trappers $2 The Golden 8 Kal 83 The Scalp King 86 The Hunter Heroules % Old Lu 87 Phil Hunter 3 Rainbolt, the Ranger 88 The Indian Scout 86 The Boy Pioneer 89 The Girl Avenger _ $7 Carson, the Guide 90 The Red Hermitesa # The Heart-Eater 91 Star-F; the Slayer 99 Wetzel, the Scout $2 The Antelope Boy 4) The Huge Hunter 98 The Ph Hunter 41 Wild Nat, the Trapper | 9% Tom Pintle, the Pilot Q bey “m3 % The Red 48 The White Outlaw $6 The Rival Trappers 44 The Dog Trailer 97 e Squaw Spy 45 The Elk K % Dusky Dick 46 Adrian, the Pilot 99 Colonel Crockett 47 The Man-hun 100 Old Bear Paw 48 The Phantom Tracker | 101 w 49 Moccasin Bill 12 Wild Rube 50 The Wolf Queen 108 The Indian Hunters 51 Tom Hawk, the Trailer & The Chief Others im Press. a 5 BE K THE FIRESIDE LIBRARY. 1 Was Sux His Wire? Mrs. Mary 2 FLEEING FROM LOVE. By rfe 8 Dm He Love Hen? Bartley T. Campbe 4 A Srrancs Woman, By Rett Winwbod, 2°. 7) 5 Napis, THE Russtanw Sry. F. Whittaker, ... . 6 Two Grats’ Lives. Mrs. Mary R. Crowell, . . . 7-8 LaDY AUDLEY’s SECRET. Miss M. E. Braddon, . 9 Tus War oF Hearts, Corinne Cushman, 10 Leie@nTon GRANGE. Miss M. E. Braddon, . li Tae Fatss Wivow. Mrs. J.D.Burton,. . 12-13 Lost ror Love. Miss M. E. Braddon, ,. 14-15 ToILERS OF THE Sza. By Victor Hugo, . 16 Tue Ocroroox. By Miss M. E. Braddon, . 17-18 Uncite Smuas. By J.8.Le Fanu,... . 19-20 Deap-Ska Frurr. Miss M. E. Braddon, . 21-22 Lirtie Kate Kimsy. F. W. Robinson, . 23 SowIne THE WIND. Mrs. Mary R. Crowell, 24-25 Brrps or Prey. Miss M. E. Braddon, . 26 THaT Boy or Norcotr’s. Charles Lever,. . . 27-28 CHARLOTTE’S INHERITANCE. Miss M. E. Braddon, 29 AGrnw’s Heart. By Rett Winwood, ... . 80-31 Rep as A Ros 1s Sue. Rhoda Broughton, . ® Tux Liy or St. Erne. By Mrs. Crow,.... 83 STRANGELY WED. By Mrs. J.D. Burton, ... ee @e#eweeereee @ one ©. 8 6° OS 6h Gye e 6 @ 6 0@ ¢ @ 08 £ 6 ec SNEEBESEEREERSESEERS B¥¥ + 160 %4 Tae Gipsy Bripe. By M.E.O.Malen, ..,. - 10e 85 ANNIE TEMPLE. By Rev. J. H. Ingraham,. .. . 10¢ 36 WiTHoUT Mercy. By Bartley T. Campbell, . « 106 87 Buack Eyes AND BLUE. By CorinneCushman,. . 10¢ 88 Brave BarsarRa. By Corinne Cushman,. ... 100 39 A DANGEROUS WOMAN. By Margaret Blount, . . 1h 40 Ourpa’s Lovz, By Henrietta E. De Conde, . . . 10 41 Lost: A Wirs. By Corinne Cushman, . ee « le @ Wrmine Wars. By Margaret Blount, . oo « Me 43 A Woman’s Heart. By Mrs.M.V.Victor .... 100 BEALE & ADAMS, Publishers, 98 WilUam street, New Yoru.
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DEADWOOD DICK, 1 Deadwood Dick, Tar Prince or THE Roap. By Edward L. Wheeler. Yellowstone Jack} or, Tar TRAPPER OF THE ENCHANTED GrounD. By Jos. E, Badger, Jr., author of “ Pacific Pete,” etc. 3 Kansas King; or, THe Rep RIGHT Hanp, By B o Bill (Hon. Wm. F. Cody), The Wild-Horse Hunters. By Capt. Mayne Reid and Capt. Frederick Whittaker. 5 Vagabond Joe; THr YounG WANDER- ING Jew. By Oll Coomes. 6 Bill Biddon, Trapper; or, Lire In THE Nortuwest. By Edward 58. Ellis. The Flying Yankee; or, THz OCEAN 7 OvurTcastT. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. ty Seth Jones; or, THE CAPTIVES OF THE Frontrmer. By Edward §. Ellis. The Adventures of Baron Mun- chausen. 10 Peta red 3 or, THe FATE oF THE it n orst Ux PTIXE. By Edward §. Ellis. 1 Yo Tee Twé" Detectives; or, TH: Fortunes or A Bowery Giri. By Albert W. Aiken, author of “‘ The Spotter, Detective,” ete. i Ny \ \) x , A WAN my //2 bs BS) uN f e 43 BEADLE’S HALF-DIME LIBRARY. Every one of them “Live” Stories by ‘‘ Live®? Authors. a Complete Novel, at the extraordinary price of a HALF-DIME, 1 Gaulliver’s Travels. A Voyage to Lilliput, and a Voyage to Brobdingnag. 13 The Dumb Spy. By Oll Coomes, author of ** Vagabond Joe,”’ etc. 1 4 Aladdin; or, THE WonpdsrFuL LAMP. 16 Robinson Crusoe. His Life and Surprising Adventures, (27 illustrations.) 1 vi Ralph Roy, The Boy Bucca- neer; or, THE FUGITIVE YACHT. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, 1 tes Sindbad the Sailor. His seven voy- ages. From the Arabian Nights. 1 9 3 or, THe Prior uffalo Bill. The Phantom Sp 20 The Double Daggers; or, Drap- The Sea-Cat; or, THe WitcH or Darien. By Capt. Frederick Whittaker. OF THE Prarrig. By woop Dick’s Deriance. By Edward L. Wheeler, author of ‘‘ Deadwood Dick.” 22 The Sea Serpent; or, THe Boy Diamond Dirk: or, THz Mystery DaveuTerR. By Roger Starbuck. By By Oll Coomes, 21 Frontier Angel. A Romance of Kentucky Rangers’ Life. By Edward 8. Rosrnson Crusor. By Col. Juan Lewis, 23 Nick o’ the Nig’ t: or, THE Boy OF THE YELLOWSTONE. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, author of ‘‘ The Flying Yankee,”’ etc, 26 Cloven Hoof, the Demon. Edward L. Wheeler Qk Buffalo Ben, the Prince of the Pistol: or, Deapwoop DIcK IN Ellis, author of ‘Seth Jones,”’ etc. Spy or 76, By T. C. Harbaugh. 25 The Boy Captain: or, THz Pirate’s 27 Antelope Abe, the Boy Guide. Diseuise. By Edward L. Wheeler 29 The Dumb Page; or, THrt DoGr’s DaveutTrer. By Capt. F, Whittaker. 30 Roaring Ralph Rockwood, THE RecKLEss Ranaer. By Harry St. George. Keen-Knife, Tur Prince oF THE Prargres, By Oll Coomes. 32 Bob Woolf, the Border Ruffian: or, Toe Grru DeAp-SHot. By Edward L. Wheeler, author of “ Deadwood Dick,” ete., ete. 33 The Ocean Bloodhound; or, THE RED PIRAtTes or THE CARIBBEES. By Samuel W. Pierce, author of ‘‘The Boy Detective,’ etc., ete. 34 Oregon Sol; or, Nick Warrr.es’ | Boy Spy. By Capt. J. F.C. Adams. 35 Wild Ivan, Tur Boy CLaupE DovaAL; or, The BrorHerHoop or DraTH. Dead- wood Dick Romance No. 4. By Edward L. Wheeler. 36 The Boy Clown; or, Taz QUEEN OF THE ARENA. By Frank 8. Finn. 3 cs § The Hidden Lodge; or, Tux LittLx HUuUNTER OF THE ADIRONDACKS. By T. C. Harbaugh, author of “ Nick o’ the Night,”’ etc. 38 Ned Wylde, Txt Boy Scovr. Texas Jack. 39 Death-Face, the Detective; or, Lire AND Love IN New York. By Ed- word L. Wheeler. 40 Roving Ben. A story of a Young American who wanted to see the world. By John J. Marshall. Lasso Jack, THE YouNG MusTANG- 41 ER, By Oli Coomes. 42 The Phantom Miner: or, Drap- woop Dick’s Bonanza. By Ed. L. Wheeler, By Dick Darling, the Pony Express Rider. A Story of the Overland By Capt. F. Whittaker. Rattling Rube: or, Tue Nicurt- HAWES OF Kentucky. By Harry 8t. George. Trail. 44 Each number ANTELOPE ABE.—No., 27. 4 5 Qld Avalanche, the Great An- nihilator: or, THE Grru BRIGAND. By Edward L. Wheeler. Ready June 4th. 46 Glass Eye, the Great Shot of the West. By Capt. J. F. C. Adams. 4.7 Wigating ae Nat: or, THE ForEst AprAiIns. ~ By T, C, Harbaugh. 48 Black John, the Road-Agent. | By Jos. E: Badger; Jr., Burt Bunker. By Charles E. La- 51 By Archie ©. Iron. 49 Omaha Ol), the Masked Terror. By Edward L. Wheeler. 5) salle. Ready July 9th. The Boy Rifles. 52 The White Buffalo. By Charles E. Lasalle. Ready July 28d, x A new issue every week. The Halt-Dime Library is for sale by al) Newsdealers, five cents per copy, or sent by maiLon | receipt of six cents each, BEADLE & “ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William Street, New York. ROBINSON CRUSOE,—No, 16,