Beadle's New York Dime Library (no. 1045) (1901 02)
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Copyricur, 1879, BY Beanie & ADAMs, Na 15. Published Every Month. The Fighting Trapper; Kit Carson to the Rescue. BY CAPT. J. F. C. ADAMS. CHAPTER I. THE TRAVELER. THe noonday sun was pouring its full tide of fiery rays upon the broad rolling prairie; the blazing air was quivering with the intense | heat of a summer day; the blue sky was not | flecked by a single cloud. Away, as far as the eye could reach, the glistening plain “etched in regular monotonous swells, unre- ENTERED AS Seconp Ciass Matrer at THE New York, N. Y., Post Orvice. Mi. J. FEVERS & CO., Publishers, (JAMES SULLIVAN, PROPRIETOR), 379 Pearl Street, New York. lieved, save here and there by some stunted tree or jagged rock; only now and then an emerald grove of*trees met the eye like a re- freshing oasis in the desert. The earth long had’ been scorched by the withering rays. Only at intervals the sparse blades of buffalo grass were to be seen. It seemed as if the whole face of nature was blasted by some deadly sirocco. The section of country to which we refer is now comprehended in what is termed Ne- braska territory. That portion in the neigh- borhood of the Rocky mountains, termed the “ Black Hills,” is the one of which we shall more particularly k. Until recently it was rarely visited by whites, except by a few trap- pers and hunters. Now and then some ad- venturous man pierced its wilds wi” February, 1901. | Vol, LANL, 10 Cents a Copy. $1.00 a Year. daring spirits, but only atrare intervals indeed, The Indians held nearly undisputed of this territory, which was, in f but om great hunting ground. Herds of numbering teas of thousands, thundered over its vast bosom; innumerable droves of horser galloped in unrestrained freedom over its while in the plentiful streams, the beaver otter flourished with little fear of molestation from the white man. The whole North-west was the unexplored paradise of the aborigines of the continent, The only whites who trod this were the daring seepees and hunters, i> Geet, een cmc ete comes and rom the sav: emselves. generally traveled in bodies numbering Py or three jo a dozen; now and then an eccentric and
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2 vhe Fighting Trapper. foarless spirit might be found who braved the perils of the wilderness alone, and jour- neyed hundreds of mties with his peltries, with no companion but his horse and faithful rifle. Although the prairie preaznted as cheerless and barren an appearance at this time as the desert, yet there were seas ns when it seemed another country—when it was but one roman- tic ocean of verdure and 7 oses, and the air was heavy with the perfumes of millions of wild flowers that }loomed ard lived in the genial sunshine, [or mile after mile the ground was covered with the thick velvet of green, in which the most varied animal life grew in myriads, ' About noon of t’.is suffocating day a horse- man was travelling over the prairie. He and his animal were the only signs of life that met the eye, and they together might have been easily mistaken for some stationery object, so slow and tedious was their course. The rider Was a young man of not over twenty-five years of aze, whose well-proportioned frame showed that, although in probability a strange” in those parts, he yet was no ordinary hun‘e*. Hoe was attired in the usual hunting- frock snd leggins, and wore a closely fitting cep of nr. At his waist the handles of two imnives protruded, and a long polished rifle rested across the saddle in front ofhim. His black hair, escaping from his cap, hung loose- ly upon his shoulders, giving him at times a strange and picturesque wildness, His com- plexion was considerably bronzed from con- stant exposure to all kinds of weather. His ha- zel eyes were now gazing vacantly at the hori- zon, and his mind was lostin a deep wander- ing that nearly excluded all external objeets from his view. His horse, a diminutive speci- men of the Canadian breed, although capable of bearing much fatigue, now gave palpable signs of weariness. His dappled haunches glisten- ing in the sun's fiery rays like polished ebony, whilo the foam and froth was constantly drip- ping from beneath the saddle, as he patiently and slowly plodded forward, His hoofs clamp- ing upon the hardened earth, the dry crackin of the saddle, and the hurried breathing o the animal, were the ouly sounds that disturb- ed the oppressive stillness that held reign. Suoh an appearance did George Summerfield present as he was journeying over the prairie. ** Heavens!” exclaimed x collecting his sponghte and gazing about him, “when will this horrid scene change? Here I have been travelling since daylight, over this dreadful ocean of earth, and not a solitary island ' * yet appeared. I am half tortured to death With thirst, while poor Ned here is suffering still more. Have patience, Ned,” he added, fondly patting the horse upon the neck, who was indeed suffering more than his master. «Curses on those infernal fellows,” mut- tered he. ‘I doubt whether I shall ever see their ugly Zaces again, and a precious pretty scrape [am in. ‘wo or three thousand of miles from home, with no neighbors but the cowardly Indians, who, I doubt not, would be lad to make my acquaintance. But who shall Feline but myself for this? Heavens! what a fate this would be, out on this baking prairie to be tortured to death by this consuming thirst. God avert such a terrible death!” The horse stopped now and then to pluck the yellow blades of grass, and at last turned to lick the froth from his steaming sides. Sum- merfield restrained him. Don't do that, Ned, though God knows that you are suffering! It will only aggravate your thirst the more.” The animal ceased, and his rider rose in his stirrups and anxiously swept the horizon. It was growing late in the afternoon, and he began to be alarmed for himself. He felt sure that he should die unless he soon discovered water. Suddenly, as he gazed to the right, his flashed, and he started. ~ ‘hank heaven, theze’s a dail in this infer- mal ocean, and close at hand, too!” he ex- cluimed, as his eye rested upon the mellow putlines of a grove of trees in the distance. «What could have prevented me from see- ing those trees before? They must have been in sight for the last half hour, while Ned and I have almost given up in despair. Relief is -elose at hand.” Summerfield, although quite an experienced kunter, hed, however, sadly miscalculated the distance, The trees were full twice as far as they appeared. In his impatient haste to reach the time seemed interminable. - Distance is as deceptive upon the prairie as Pike upon the sea; as it takes a true sailor to cal- culate it upon the one, so it requires an expe- rienced hunter to measure it upon the other. It was full an hour before he approached near enough to distinguish the iidnchen of the different trees ; and as he saw their fresh and blooming appearance, he felt sare that such a thing could not exist unless the roots were well supplied with water. “And yet,” he muttered, as the sicke thought presented itself, ‘‘suppose that should be disappointed, what a death awaits me! I never could leave the spot, and poor Ned would die immediately.” As he rapidly approached the place, his anxiety became fearfully intense. Ho listened to hear the noise of running water, and when he heard it not, despite himself, an awful doubt would enter his mind. His horse’s in- stinct, however, was infallible ; and, as the lat- ter quickened his pace and ascended the swell upon the edge of the grove, a bright, sparkling stream of water was seen gushing slowly along within a few feet of him. With a shout, he pars from his horse, and they simultaneously leaped into the refreshing element. As he quaffed the cool, refreshing fluid, he was fairly delirious with joy. It seemed that a death by drowning was the greatest bliss that a mortal could be given, and he covered himself with the limpid water, and was really insane with his excess of pleas- ° ure. Summerfield, however, soon satisfied his de- sires, and, like an ordinary human being, laughed at his own ridiculous manifestations, ‘«Hold on, Ned,” said he, ‘‘it won’t do for you to drink so much at first. It is dangerous, and you must be restrained.” So saying, heed his horse from the water, upon the swell, and holding his rein, gazed out upon the prairie. The sun was now low in the heavens, and the air was becoming cooler and more tolerable. He saw no sign of s.iimal life, and was about to turn to the grove, when the sharp crack of a rifle burst from ig 9 ae spot, and a bullet whizzed within a half-inch of his eyes! “Heavens! That was'a close rub!” ejacu- lated Summerfield, cocking his rifle and gazing toward the grove in the hope of seeing his enemy. But no form was visible, and he be- gan to feel rather uneasy in his situation. After waiting a few moments, he lowered his rifie, and at the same instant another was dis- charged, and, as a slight puff of wind struck his face, one of his black curls dropped to his feet, severed by the leaden messenger. He turned quickly, and saw a thin wreath of smoke slowly rising from the edge of the grove. “There's @ venture, at any rate!” said he, hastily discharging his rifle at the point where he supposed was his hidden foe. ‘abe commenced re-loading, he saw the un- derwood become agifated, and the next instant a large, powerfully built man stepped forth in full view. Summerfield gazed at him with mixed wonder and admiration. His form was one of the most noble and commanding that he had ever seen. His small eyes glistening be- neath his shaggy, projecting brows, seeraed ever restless with excitement. His jetty black beard, although long and uncombed, had zee an appearance of harmony with the rest of his dress. As he moved, the swelling ridges of muscles showed what terrible strength was concentrated in his frame. Yet he was grace- ful, and, when occasion required, was as light- ning-like in his movements os the famished panther. His fine Roman nose, and small, restless gray eyes, would have shown any one his temperament. His dress was similar to Summerfield’s, save that it appeared to be made more for strength and durability. In his left hand, he held a long, formidable-looking rifle, whose barrel glistened and shone in the sun’s departing rays as he slowly changed its position, The handle of a finely-carved scalping-knife was visible, and, take him all in aJl, the hunter was a man whose ill-will was dangerous to any mortal. «It seems to me,” said Summerfield, ‘that you are rather reckless with your shots. You made me wink rather suddenly a short time since.” ‘Wal, stranger, I ain’t a feller what makes many mis-shots.” - « Will you allow me to inquire your objectin thus g your shots so close to me?” © ‘Wal, stranger, that hyer’s the manneri generally says ‘How d'you do?’ when I come across folks what I doesn’t know.” . ** A rather peculiar fashion of re «Tt’s the one I allers uses, ant what I alders ca’culate to. What mought your handle be, stranger ?” ‘‘Summerfield—George Summerfield is my name. I suppose you will have no objectious to giving me yours ?” “6 =P come you to be trampin’ out In these arts ” “T left the States some weeks ago in com- pany with three others, with the intention of accompanying them upon a trapping se tion. Yesterday, in the excitement of ac Ilost them altogether, and have not seen a sign of them since.” “Yer a green one, no mistake, in these parts. ” «« Thave been here ba fod and am not an inex~ pena hunter, although I am young. ave been in several brushes with Indians, and trust that I am not what, upon further ac- quaintance, you willterm green. But, my good friend, allow me again to inquire your name?” “‘T’m known in these parts by the name o> Vic Vannoven.” “Thave heard you spoken of as a groat hunter and trapper that—” ‘Thar, that'll do. Just hold on with that stuff.” «Why, Mr.—” «Hold on agin,” exclaimed the hunter, with an angry gesture. ‘I don’t own that last handle. ' Jus please to drap it altogether when I'm spoken to, and never mind about stuffin me with that other stuff It goes agin my stummick altogether.” «Well, Vic, then, I haye heard of you be- fore, and assure you that I am glad to meet you. Idon’t feel entirely safe in this section with no corapanion but my horse, I suppos¢ that pet are alone ?” “T hain’t got no chaps hangin’ round m¢, but Polly, here, is worth a dozen, When sbe barks she bites ; and I’ve got Porkypine out here that sleeps with me every night, and tw three makes as big a-company as I wants.” «Then I suppose you would rather be freed from my society ?” «Wal, Somefield, ef yee death on redskins, and that Polly of yourn’ll drop one without yer touchin it, and ef yer ain't afraid of gitten’ yer h’ar lifted, and don’t mind sleepin’ out in» snow-storm, and ain’t womanish, why Lyer's a feller what'll stick to you.” “Then we are friends henceforth, Now that I have your company, I do not feel the loss of my friends so much, although, if possi- ble, I raust soon see them.” «« Whar was it that you left ’em?” ‘«<T have no idea ; but, judging from the dis- tance-that Ihave travelled, I should ie ged it somewhere in the neighborhood of forty miles. ‘‘What kind of lookin’ place mought it be whar you seen ’em last?” ; «“T yemember that it was at the junction of two streams, near a large eee of tiraper—” “T knows the spot, and now 1m purty sare tain that yer green; coz why, you've becom trampin’ your old hoss to death to find ‘em, and they hain’t been more’n a dozen miles off neither.” . 3 «Why, how can that be, when I have trav- elled a much greater distance ?” ‘* Coz you've been trampin’ all ’round it with- out comin’ to the pint, and ef yer’d had yer eyes open you'd have seen it too.” “¢Oan we reach them to night, then?” «* We'll see ; but don’t let us stand here talke in’ when yer hoss is wanderin’ off.” Summerfield turned and saw that his animal had strayed quite a distance down the stream, tempted by the luxuriant grass that lined ite edges. He gave him but a word, when he re turned and remained but a short distance, while he himself rejoined the hunter, and to- gether they entered the grove, After roceed~ ing a short distance, they came upon the horse of Vannoven, which was contentedly plucking the grass with which the grove was carpeted. “Hyer, Porkypine, is a feller what wants to cultivate yer acquaintance.” The horse raised his head, and seemed te fully understand that he was addressed. “Somefield, it’s a gittin’ nigh onto feedin’ time, and I s’pose you wouldn't mind helpin’, + yer rags must set a Oe "Pears to me i you've been washin’’em with such the hunter, with a half-mischievous. and hali- ben Petia Do hainopac': the ni t was a ) t :
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, | } 4 iif ithe weakness which he had manifested about the water ; ‘‘ but,” added he, ‘I was perfectly {nsane with the thirst that was burning me up. Heavens! I never wish such an experience “«Wagh! you'll be lucky ef youdon’t. Why, you, I’ve seen the time when I had to chaw all the bullets Ihad to save my carcass, after go- in’ fur days without seein’ a drop: Theres are some spots on this perarie whar, at times, you've got to make a long tramp ufore you git sight of it. Howsumever, I never manage to lose my reckonin’ now-a-days, and either Pork- ypine or me knows whar to find it.” The shades of night were now rapidly set- ting over the prairie, and the grove had already become dark and gloomy. Vannoven com- menced making preparations for a fire, while Summerfield returned to picket his horse for the night. This done, he again returned to his newly-made friend. He had « bright fire burning and crackling, and yet 10 concealed and screened that it could net be seen from any point in the grove, until directly upon it. A huge piece of meat was spitting and fry. ing over the blaze, while the hunter was re- clining upon the ground and leisurely watch- ing it. ss Summerfield approached, he arose, and removing the meat, severed it into two equal portions, and tossing him one, remarked : re Thar’s the last of one of the finest bufflers I eve~ iropped.” Geiss hala, like a true hunter, relished the steaming meat, and devoured it without the least ceremony or further preparation. This hearty meal was partaken in silence. The hunter arose, and scattering the brands, #0 a « extinguish the fire, again seated him- selt apon the ground. “Do you not fear the approach of an enemy during the night?” asked Summerfield. “Not much, I'd like to see the red what could git near mo while’ I's ’sleep, without Porky smellin’ him ; and me and Porky has no secrets,” added the hunter, with pride. ‘Do you generully wander alone over this danyerous country ?” “T don't know what you mean by alone; but if you mean fellers, why I kin tell you, I hain’t had much company fur the last ten year.” ‘May I be allowed to inquire your reasons for leading such a strange life?” asked Sum- merficld, beginning to feel an interest in him. “Tt would take too long. Not now,” he re- turned, relapsing into a thoughtful silence, — Summerfield thought it best not to dis- tar CHAPTER IL THE NIGHT-STORM. A sravriron night settled slowly over the prairie, The air seemed to possess an unnat- ural brilliancy and clearness, and the countless millions of stars glittered in glorious splendor. The Pleiades, Orion, and other constellations, blazed in wondrous strength and brightness, and the whole canopy of heaven had a gorge- ous magnificence that was indeed wonderful. Nothing but the almost inaudible murmur- ing of the streamlet, as it rippled over its bed, could be heard, save now and then the dull stamp of the horses as they changed their po- sition. At intervals, a slight gush or breath of wind moved the tree-tops, and gently swayed the branches, and then everything relapsed again into the usual deep silence. Summerfield lay on his back, gazing in rapt wonder and admiration upon the spangled vault above him. He saw the constellations alowly circle through the heavens, and watched their progress through the openings in the tree-tops, until their swaying confused him, and he let his mind wander off upon a sort of dreamy, aimless journey, forgetting for a time his situation and new-made friend. But occasionally there were stronger and more fitful puffs, repeated at shorter intervals ; and upon gazing upward through the branches, he observed that the stars were gradually be- coming obscured, while heavy clouds were rolling tumultuously through the heavens, Al- though the heat of the day had been suffoca- ting, it was now uncomfortably chilly, and was growing more 60 each moment. Suddenly, several faint flashes illumined the sky, aad presently the rumbling peals reverbe- rated overhead. . “This is goin’ to be a reg’lar snorter,” re- marked the hunter, quietly. + The Fighting Trapper. “That's certain. See how the branches are swaying! There it comes!” As he spoke, the sky opened like one sheet of fire, and almost simultaneously with‘it came a crash of thunder that made the prairie trem- ble for miles around, Its awful voice, slowly rolling away through the heavens, sounded like the rumbling of chariot wheels ; and when the plain was lightened up and shone out with sudden and vivid distinctness, the falling rain glittered like the spears of an innumerable ar- my. Again and again, with appalling rapidity, came the terrific bursts of thunder, and the rain rattled like hailstones through the branch- es overhead. Summerfield had never before witnessed such an awful storm, and for awhile was overcome by feelings of awe and sublimity. He was about to speak, when the sky flamed out again in one blaze of shattered fire, and the trapper yelled to him ; sh: aie up and snooze, or you mought git wet!” He wisely took the warning, and was not long in stowing himself away in his impenetra- ble blanket. us he lay and listened to the storm, which was raging at its greatest height. Huge spouts of rain were shooting down through the trees like the rattle of musketry, while the bellowing thunder resembled the can- nonading of some mighty army. As it paused, at intervals, the roar of the brook, now a rush- ing torrent, could be distinctly heard, and the wind made mournful music through the limbs, bending with water. The fall of the rain lasted but a short time, and Summerfield uncovered his face and gazed around him. All was of an inky blackness save when the lightning darted through the grove. Then the wet pent; fe glistened coldly, and the water shone sith a glittering light ; and when some gust of wind, stronger than usual, sway- ed the trees, they sent down for a second a perfect deluge of water. The storm was as short as it was fierce. In a half hour more not a drop of water was fall- ing, and only a faint flash of lightning could be seen at intervals, Summerfield, now that the deafening tumult around him had ceased, fell into a deep and dreamless sleep. This had lasted about an hour, when he was aroused by feeling a jerk at his blanket. He looked around, but saw nothing in the darkness, ** What's the matter ?” he asked, in a whisper. «sh! keep quiet,” returned the hunter, in the same tone, «Any trouble ?” “T’m ’fraid so. Injins ai’ about, purty sure.” ‘What! in the grove here?” «Yas, cuss it, yas ; you ain't scar’t, are you? I thort I'd let you know my ’spishions, ’cause ef I didn’t, you mought get into a muss with- out knowin’ it. Thai’ goes Porky, again!” Ashe spoke, Summerfield heard his horse give a faint whinny and a stamp that con- vinced him that the trapper’s suspicions were well grounded. ‘Just keep docile now,” admonished the trapper, as he stole away. He crept carefully over the moist earth, and in a few minutes reached his horse, «*What’s up, Porky?” he asked, rising and placing his head close to his ear as he spoke, The animal gave another whinny, and, dark as it was, Vannoven saw a body glide out of sight in the darkness. Quick as thought, he sprang behind a tree, and demanded, in a loud and imperative tone : «White or red?” In a second came the answer : ‘White, If that ain’t Vic Vannoven, then skin me!” “That you, Jim?” queried the hunter, in turn, as the familiar voice struck his ear. «Come out here and show your carcass.” The next minute the two hunters met with genuine and unfeigned pleasure. **What the dickens yer doin’ here?” de- manded Vic, good-humoredly. «And what you doin’ here?” asked the oth- er, in turn. «*Why don’t you ax me, Jim Wandeught, what I'm allers doin’ in these parts. Yer knows well’nough. I’ve been tramping ’round, and happened to drop down hyer to-day, and seein’ as how thar’s gwine to be a reg'lar ring-tail- roarer of a storm, why, thinks I, ‘Ole Vic, yer d better stick hyer till it’s over ; and sol squatted till you come a nosin’ 'round.” «Wal,,me ’n Sam an’ ‘nother nigger war out when we seen the blow gettin’ ready, and made tracks fur this place, but war catched afore we got to it. Howsumever, that didn’t _' rare ait * ‘ ya matter, as we toted on till we got poy near here, when I ‘cluded to take a look things afore comin’ here ; coz, you know, thar mought be reds about. I didn’t know what to make of yer hoss, coz he smelt me afore I did him, though I smelt sunkthin’ that I war pusty sure war you, Vic, and it warn’t no ” to brag on neither, I can tell yer. I’clu as how thar war signs "bout, and war just gwine back to let em know it, when you come round.” “Didn't yer have anybody with yer ‘capt Sam an’ tuther chap?” «Yes ; thar war a chap what called himselé Summerfield—one o’ these from the States that don’t know nothin’.” «That's what I thort. He come ’round here *while ago, and bein’ kindy clever, I let ’im sleep in my bed with me.” _ ‘In your bed? Wagh! wagh!” \ “Yas ; in my bed. Don’t yer know nothin’, Jim? In the woods hyer, I mean ; that’s my bed. He's green!” “Yes; he wanted to come so bad that J couldn't help it, ‘cause I's 'fraid he mought) boo-hoo himself to death ef I-left him behind. He's a greeny ; no mistake,” These compliments to Summerfield were spoken in a tone loud enough for him to hear, and, as may be supposed, there was not much danger of his trying to impress his compan ions with any exalted ideas of his own prow- ess and knowledge of border life after that. Jim and Vic conversed for a few moments more, when the former started out to bring in his companions. They were snugly ensconced in the thicket,,and soon joined Vic and Sum- merfield, to the seeming satisfaction of all. It was & Y apse 4 reunion after a day of exhaust- ing riding, A fire wassoon rekindled, around which gathered to dry their soaked gar- ments and to warm their chilled limbs. Let us, before proceeding farther with o story, refer more particularly to those collected there in that picturesque group—each relating his story of news and adventure, George Summerfield, of ——, Missouri, haa been referred to, and with a remark or two we will let him pass, He was the son of wealthy parents who died in his childhood, leaving him vith no relation except a sister a few yours younger than himself. Naturally of a ro careless disposition, he had only entered lege to gratify a wish that his father had ex- piaaes upon his deathbed. After graduation e returned home, and spent a year in doing nothing in particular but reading and hunt ing. The next year he t in travelling with his sister over the Atlantio states, and returned home again without any definite object in view. e morning at breakfast, he told his sister that he should take a tramp among the Indians, just for the fun of the Whee he hurried to Independence, gave a trapper a hundred dollars to permit him to accom him, and the next day was out on the p half galled to death on an old pack-horse! He determined to brave it out like a hero, how- ever—and he did. He was gone about nine months, and was given a good taste of wild adventure on the northern trapping grounds, After this, he remained at home for five or six months, when he determined to make one more journey to the plains. And for this he was wise enough to make some preparation. He purchased his own horse, ad took Seth Potter along with him. At Independence he selected his own trapper—Jim Wandaught— a selection that he never regretted. As might be supposed, his sister opposed his entire de- termination ; but he succeeded in gaining her consent, and with a light heart he bid noone to his native state, and turned his face the great prairies of the Far West. Victor Vannoven was both a tra and guide, although for the last year or two he had not served in the latter capacity, and preferred to be only the former. Most of his life had been spent upon the prairies, He said he had no brothers, sisters, or parents, or if he had © mn them, did not know them. For a number of years he had made most of his trapping jour- neys with no companion but his horse, pany, but he generally and sometimes he woul
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and virtues, and leave them to develop them- selves a8 our acquaintance with him pro- gresses. , Jim Wandaugyt, a trayper, born in St. Jo- seph, Missouri, was now about thirty years of age. He was rather below the medium stat- ‘ure, with a fine, compact frarne, as agile and powerful as the panther. He always wore a cap that came down to his eyebrows, and fitted so closely that, at a short distance, it might easily be supposed that he had no covering at all upon his head. His eyes were of a light gray, and their power was so famous that many of his acquaintances termed him ‘‘Tagle Eyes.” His hair was of dark grizzled color, and so short that it was rarely seen except when his cap was removed. No beard graced his face, except a long, yellow tuft upon his chin, the rest being as smooth as an infant’s. Hig nose was slightly Roman, and rather small ; he had a fine set of teeth, which were always visible, as he ever wore a smile, or a hhalf-smile rather ; for he possessed the pecu- liarity that many persons have, of using but one side of their mouths when they wish to indulge in a silert laugh. He was good-na- tured, always communicative, and rarely taking offence at a slight or intended insult. He had experienced an incredible number of hair- breadth escapes and wild adventures, and his fund of anecdote was exhaustless. He was frank, open-hearted, and a man that could never be a hypocrite. He possessed a rifle of exactly his own length, from which he was never known to be separated, and whose quali- ties he could never laud too highly. There were many points of resemblance between him and Vannoven. He did not possess the great strength and majestic form of the latter, but was more fleet of foot, and his nuture lay more upon the surface ; it could be seon at once. Seth Potter, as the reader has probably sur- mised, was a companion of Summerfield, whose father had adopted and reared him. He was over six feet in height, very lank and cadaver- ous, and with a form excessively crooked. His head and neck projected forward, and when he stood, as was his custom, with his arms folded behind him, his knees bent backward, so that his legs had the appearance of half-strung Sows, his whole body resembling the letter 8. His features were rather pleasant than other- wise, having a mild, blue eye, and an ingenu- ous, half-comical expression. His nose was very long, and his prominent cheek-bones pre- vented every one except himself from suppos- ing he had a right to lay claim to any good fooks. His hair was long and yellow, his limbs long and bony, and his whole appear- ance that of a wiry, nervous, and ungainly person ; yet there were few men of the West who could get over so much ground in so little time. Give him rough, uneven surface, and . there was not an Indian but what he could sasily overtake—provided his wind lasted. Sam Redzel had been Wandaught’s compan- ion for a year or two, and was as different in svery respect as could possible be imagined. fle was somewhat taller, had fiery red hair, whiskers of the same hue, that grew in patches on his cicatrized face; an eye that glittered tike a coiled black snake underneath his shag- gy eyebrows. He was taciturn and sullen, often refusing to answer a direct question. The sight of one eye had been destroyed, and, be- ing of a milk-white color, and always half it rendered his appearance more repul- sive than it would have otherwise been. He had a habit of leering with his one eye, and of always contracting his brows, that gave one the idea that he possessed a hidden, deceitful nature. “Whatever might be his character, it ‘was plain that it possessed not half the good qualities of either Vannoven or Wandaught. CHAPTER DL A BAD OHABAOCTER As the bright rays of the approaching sun pierced the foliage of the grove, the trappers ‘were astir and making preparations for the journey that was before them. Vannoven had around the trees in order tosee whether there were any signs of savages ; and, finding mothin to arouse his suspicions, had returned and reported the state of affairs to the rest. One of the number had kindled a fire, and @ huge piece of buffalo was soon roasted, In @ few minutes this was devoured, and the hunt The Fighting Trapper. ers, placing their different loads upon these animals, started forth. The storm of the preceding night had wrought a wonderful change in the face of na- ture upon the prairies, Where, the day be- fore, nothing but a few black blades were seen, was now Visible tho velvety prairie grass, and in some places the wild flowers had loaded the air with perfume. It was an immense field of verdure. As the destination of the five hunters was the same, it was agreed by all to keep company for afew days at least. ‘The eccentric Vanno- ven had made up his mind to trap alone, and he was fully determined that none shoulde share his company. Summerfield, with his companions, were on their way north toward the trapping grounds, and from Vannoven he learned that they would trap within forty or fifty miles of him. Yet, as we have said, he would accept of no company, and assured the rest that he should part with them in three or four days at the most. Yor most of the day the ride was over the peculiar rolling prairie which prevails so much in the Far West. This has an almost painful sameness and monotony for any one save those who, for years, have been accustomed to it. Seth expressed his indignation every few mo- ments, but little heed was.paid to him by the rest, and the company moved patiently and quietly onward. About the middle of the afternoon, Wan- daught, who was viding considerably in ad- yance of the rest, suddenly halted and raised his hand above his head. The sign was un- derstood by the rest, and, without speaking, they reined up their animals and waited for further communication. In a momenthe low- ered his hand and started forward, the rest do- ing the same. ' All, however, now proceeded more slowly and with greater caution than be- fore. He had gone about a mile or so farther, when he again halted, raised his hand as be- fore, and waited for the others to come up. *s What's the word?” asked Vannoven. Sign,” returned Wandaught. “What?” “«Kioways, and a big party.” “Which way!” “Bast, and comin this way too.” Close on us ?” “Not very. They've bin round all the atter- noon.” ‘Seen us ?” «Guess not, but we'll have to show our- selves purty soon. ‘Thar’s "bout forty or fifty on em, and they're goin’ "bout as fast as we are. Ke “T s’pose we'll have to get into another muss,” exclaimed Seth, indignantly. “You needn’t be afeard, Crooked Pegs,” sneered Redzel, “that shootin’ iron would scare all of em to death, providin’ yer didn’t lose it.” “T can tell you, if you were among them you would find there was no danger of my los- g it, nor of the bullet losing the mark either,” retorted Seth, stung to the quick by the contemptuous remarks of Redzel. “Come,” interposed Summerfield, *‘ this is child’s play.” “Mr. Greeney, wait till yer axed to put in your blab,” said Redzel, and then to Seth, ‘‘ How d’yer manage, gawky, to wabble “bout on them pegs?” “Very easy, I s’pose, as you may yet man- age to see.” “‘Qome, don’t give me none yer talk,” ex- claimed the PePRe: “ Bah! Td like to know whether you think—” Further utterance was cut short by a crash- ing blow directly in the mouth of Seth. He staggered back a pace or two, when as he tasted the blood he clubbed his rifle, and be- fore even his assailant divined his intention, brought a murderous blow upon the head of Redzel that felled him like an ox. Summer- field sprang forward to interfere, as he saw the bloody track of Seth’s rifle ; but in spite of him, his assailant arose and leaped toward Seth. The blood was streaming down his face, adding a ghastly intensity to hi a maces while Seth stood quivering and perfectly white with rage. “Let them have it out,” said Wandaught, stepping back ard complacently viewing them. “Yes, if they're foola enough to fight and scratch, why, I says, lot ’em doot,” added Vaa- poven. a a NE ce AA ark EN a NES ‘This is a fine state of affairs,” exclaimed Summerfield, bitterly. ‘* We are even now discovered by our enemies, and these two fools must employ their time in using their strength upon each other. IfI can prevent it { shall.” He seemed as excited as the two combat- ants, and approached them with a determined air. Stepping forward, he placed his foot upon the breast of Seth, who was under, and almost throttled by his adversary, and concen- trating his strength, gave a powerful jerk. The two separated, and, yielding to an im- pulse, he flung Redzel a dozen feet from him. The latter sprang to his feet, and, like a demon, leaped toward him. Vannoven and Wan- daught, however, seized and held him. «‘Come, Sam,” said the latter, ‘‘ you’ve done "bout enough. You're makin’ a fool of your. self.” ‘Let mo alone ; I'll have the blood of both of’em, Iswear. ‘They shall both die!” «Come, come, that’s plenty, now.” But the infuriated man heeded no advice, but catching a rifle, cocking it, and raised it to his shoulder. Wandaught just knocked the barrel upward as it was discharged, and the bullet passed so close to Summertfield’s head that ke involuntarily started. He said noth- ing, but caught Seth, who was again start ing for him. Redzel, seeing that he was prevented frum doing harm, gave vent to an oath, and sprang upon his horse. ‘‘Remember, you'll hear of me agin!” said he to Summerfield and Seth, as he struck hin horse into a gallop across the plain.’ “Yas, and I reckon you'll hear of me about that time!” returned Seth. The four stood and watched him as he con- tinued galloping away. Once or twice he turned his head and made a threatening ges- ture, but said nothing. His body continued rising and falling and growing less, until it was but a4rembling atom in the distance, and finally it faded from view altogether. «There goes a dangerous enemy!” said Summerfield, as he turned and mounted hie animal. «That's so, said Wandaught. ‘Sam’ 9 member you as long as he lives.” “Yes, and I'll remember him,” replied Seth, furiously. “I’m sorry it’s happened,” said Vie ; ‘but Sam has no one to blame but himself for it.” “The precious fool ought to have been shot long ago,” added Summerfield. ‘If he ever has a chance to revenge himself upon us, he will most certainly do it. I expected, when I came across him at Independence, that we should have trouble with him. I wonder how Jim ever got along with him so long.” a allers had to yumer him, and eas a good "ea. ” “Wal, we're likely to have trouble from oth- er ones,” added Vannoven, with a significant emphasis, looking at the same time in the di- rection in which the signs of danger had been seen. : It was now growing late in the afternoon, and after a few minutes’ consultation, it was decided to move forward a mile or two, where Wandaught said was a small stream of water. It was necessary to proceed with the utmost caution, as it was more than probable that they had already been seen by the Indians, and the peril was indeed imminent. The quarrel of Seth and Redzel had its of- fect upon Summerfield ; yet Jim and Vic seemed to have entirely forgotten that such a thing had occurred. They rode together, and now and then exchanged a word in an undertone, and were wholly occupied with the safety of the company. The company reached the stream spoken of, and commenced making preparations for pass- ing the night. The spot possessed little ad- vantage, although a great many disadvanta- ges. It was in a depression in the plain, which formed a sort of breastwork around them ; and yet there was not the smallest tree to afford them a chance to conceal themselves. The open prairie bounded them on all sides, and in case they were attacked by the war , it can be seen that their chance was poor indeed. , Just as they halted, the sun sunk below the horizon, and darkness commenced settling over the earth. The four animals of the trap- pes eee picketed a few yerte eters stream, 60 as to give notice of the approac oe while it was de of s foe from that
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— ee 2 aes 1 rash 7 i alt one OAs G4, eS “, The Fighting Trapper. eT termined that Jim and Vie should act sentinel through the night. In answer to Summer field’s inquiries, Vic informed him that the Kioways were not far distant, and that in all probability they would be attacked before the morning dawned. ‘There was no danger to be apprehended be- fore late in the night, and Jim kindled a fire without hesitation for the purpose of cooking their supper. This done, they partook of it leisurely, and extinguished it, and then began & make preparations in earnest. Vic passed # short distance down stream, while Jim went out on the prairie and reclined upon the und; and, at Summerfield’s earnest request, 6 was allowed to go a short distance in the opposite direction. Thus Seth lay down se- surely guarded vpon all sides. CHAPTER IV. THE FIRST RACE FOR LIFE. Iv must bave been considerably past mid- night before the slightest sign of danger was heard. Summerfield had fallen into a sort of half-usleep and half-awake state, when the nerves are painfully sensitive, when he heard a peculiar whistle from Vannoven. It was slight, yet full of warning. He was about to start to waken Seth, when Wandaught touched him. “sh!” he whispered. ‘I’ve woke Seth. Thar’ll be sumthin’ dun shortly,” “‘Tndians ?” ¢ «*Yaas ; they’ve been creepin’ around for the last two hours. Thar ar about twenty or thirty only, and they tried to come down stream first; but they found they couldn’t get past vn animals, and they’re comin’ up from be- ow.” “Well, what is going to be done?” «Vie is down thar, and ’ll let us know how matters ar goin’ long. We ain’t sartin of thar number, but they can’t be over twenty-five. If they're less, I ca’culate there'll be sum fun here, for we ain’t gwine to show sich a num- der our heels.” ‘* Suppose there are more ?” **We must mount and make tracks. We'll move out to where Seth is, and wait for signals from Vic. If he says that thar are too many, we'll get on the hosses and wait for him ; but if he wants to show fight we'll wait for sarcum- stances to develop themselves. Move still.” So saying, Wandaught commenced walking in a very prone position, while Summerfield followed with the silence of death. Ina few seconds they reached Seth, when there came a suppressed whistle from Vic. «They're close on to us,” whispered Jim. In a second or two the same signal was re- peated twice in succession. ‘« He’s goin’ to show fight! ready.” As he uttered these words, the rifle of Van- noven cracked, and they heard him yell : «Give ’m blazes—the sneakin’ devils,” and the shouts and howls of tho savages mingled with those of the hunter. At the same instant Wandanght leaped forward, followed by Seth and Summerfield, who in a few moments were in about as hot water as any one could wish. It was so dark that the Indians could only be seen when directly upon them ; then they ap- ed like shadowy demons darting to and oinagony. There was constantly the reports of rifles, and sometimes by the lurid flashes the hideously-distorted features of the com- batants could be seen; then again all would be struggling furiously in the impenetrable Snmuinerfield, when he rushed blindly into the fight, came so violently in collision with a gigantic Indian that the rebound threw him backward upon the ground, and before he vould rise his swarthy enemy was upon him. There is no doubt of what his fate would have been had not Seth come to his aid at the crit- ical moment. Clubbing his rifle, he brought ao terrible a blow upon the-savage’s head that the skull was literally shattered to pieces. The Indian rolled to the ground without a struggle. Summerfield sprang to his feet and mingled iu the fierce affray. The contest was as short as it was terrible. The assailants had not counted upon such a re- ion, and toe trappers See that you're He Go expected to find them ald not stand before the fury of | hoped to scaly them with- | ih out any serious trouble ; but they found their fatal mistake when half their number were slain, and, setting up a mingled howl of rage and disappointment, broke and fled in wild confusion. ‘‘Whar’s the Engins? Whar's the Engins?” demanded Seth, darting about fairly wild with excitement. ‘Most of ’em gone to~-’ (naming a terrible place) answered Vic. ‘““Wagh! wagh! that’s what this chap calls fun,” laughed Wandaught. ‘* Blast it! it’s through too soon. Why, it’s done before it commences,” said Seth, panting with a perfect fever. ‘‘You needn’t be disapinted, for you'll see nough of this ’fore you see the States agin, 1 can tell yer.” «« Anybody hurt ?” ‘«« [never gits hurt in such a gcrimmage as this,” returned Vic. ‘“‘Nor me neither. How is it with you, Somefield ?” ‘‘T have hardly a scratch worth mentioning, I have had some rather rough usage, but I be- lieve am more fortunate than any of you in escaping.” «We've all got some scratches, but nothin’ worth speakin’ on, less it’s Seth here.” “Oh, I ain’t hurt much, though I felt more’n one knife,” ‘‘Well, what shall be done?” asked Sum- merfield, ‘* Shall we build a fire?” ‘«We can’t build a fire, that's sartin, and I opine that we hadn’t better wait till mornin’ Them wasn’t all the redskins that ar about these parts. They thought as how these fellers here would be ‘nough; but I guess they've found thar mistake, and now they'll come down in a perfect swarm, and I reckon we'll find rather hot quarters here. My idee is to mount hosses while night is hyer, and leave for other arts. ‘¢That’s the talk,” added Vannoven. ‘ You fellers just go bring the animals-round. while me and Jim lifts hair.” As Summerfield had no desire to assist in the disgusting operation, he willingly went for the horses. He feared that they had left dur- ing the confusion, but they were all used to such scenes, and had not moved. Taking Vanno- ven’s animal, the others followed until he came to where the two hunters were busy at their revolting work. They were joking roughly as they stooped, and, seizing the prostrate forms by the tuft upon the head, ran the keen point around it, and jerked it rudely off. ‘* Your hoeses are ready.” “Yes, I see. Ain't that beautiful?” asked Wandaught, holding up several scalps, Sum- merfield made no reply ; for, although he felt a sickening sensation at the sight of the scalps, he thought it best not to express his opinion ; but he could not help recoiling when, on ac- count of the darkness, they were held so close to his face as to nearly touch it. “Oh, you needn’t be squeamish,” added Jim. ‘You've got to git used to sich things, I should think you'd travelled enough in these parts to know the way to handle wild. beasts.” ‘‘Now, Vic, you lead the way,” said Wan- daught, as they all mounted. Without replying, the hunter moved forward, and the rest followed. They had gone a milo or so, when the faint streaks of gray in the east showed that the day was close at hand ; and, for this reason, it was necessary that haste should be made, as in all probability the re- maining savages were in the neighborhood, In tho course of an hour or so, the sun appeared In the horizon, and the prairie was lighted up by the broad blaze of light. Summerfield glanced anxiously around, but saw no savages, and congratulated himself upon his fortunate: escape. His hopes, however, were doomed to disappointment. Before he had time to speak, he was electrified by hearing Wandaught ex- claim : “‘Blow me to cinders, ef yonder ain’t the whole lot!” . Turning their eyes toward the south, they saw as many as a hundred mounted Indians rapidly galloping toward them. They were coming without any regard to order, and their number appeared much greater—so great that the four hunters concluded at once that their only hope of safety lay in their horses, and that, could they not distance their pursuers, there was little chance of ultimate escape.” «, Thar’s a long run for us!” said Wandaught, “Shall we separate, or keep together!” Thosavages were coming from the southeast p 5 fra hie | round, and, and the ay changed their direction so a8 to move in the seame—toward the northwest. ~ Vannoven took the lead, and his horse spran; away, seemingly conscious of the threaten danger. It was now pe to both the pursuers and the pursued that victory must rest with the horse which showed tke best speed and endu- — rance. Vannoven’s animal had been in such races before, and was never overtaken by an- — other, and he himself was certain’ of finally distancing his enemies. Wandaught had twice come up to a foo with his, and had never been deceived with him. Seth’s animal was similar to Summerfield’s, and they both had some fears of their holding eutin a very long run. Summerfield knew that, for a short time, he could leave any behind him, but he had good reason to fear the botiatt of the Indian animals. — Vannoven and Wandaught’s steeds started off on a steady gallop—such as they were ca- pois of continuing for many hours, while Summerfield and Seth judged it prudent to save the strength of theirs, and consequently they gradually fell some distance behind the former. This had been continued but a short time when they saw that their speed must be increased, for the Indians were perceptibly gaining. Loosing the reins, they shortly came up beside the two old hunters, who seemed to féel no concern at all about the state of things. Nothing was said for some time, when Wan- daught remarked; . “They're gainin’, Heigh !” ; The latter exclamation was to his. horse, which instantly thrust its head forward, and increased its awkward but rapid gait. Van- noven’s imitated him without any command, and the other two did the same. The race now began to assume a serious char acter to all parties, Far behind could be seen’ the picturesque and fanvastic figures of the In- dians, slowly but steadily and surely gaining upon the trappers. Vannoven’s animal was lumbering along on a sort of half trot and canter, with his nose pointing directly ahead | and his thin tail projecting in such a manner that it was nearly a straight line from it to hia a ears. Vic himself sat composedly in his seat, with his eye fixed vacantly Ag © ground a few yards ahead, his left hand loosely holding the rein, while his right rested leisurely upon his side. He seemed as though he was asleep, while his horse was running at his owm pleasure. A foot or two behind him was Wan- He seemed, however, more conscious: of the situation, and now and then cast tur- ried glances behind. His horse travelled the same as Vannoyen’s, and kept about the same distance from him. Summerfield felt the most anxiety of any ; not that he was possessed of less courage, but because he had good reasun. Ho well knew that his animal was not one that could bear such travelling for a long time. Sooner or later he must break, and his heart throbbed painfully'as he even now saw unmis- takable signs of weariness. He, however, re- mained calm, devoting his whole attention to the management of hisnoble beast. Now and thsn he found it necessary to draw the rein, as he plunged too impetuously forward. Hoe, however, maintained his position between Wandaught and Vannoven, neither gaining — nor losing ground. Seth said nothing to any one excepting his own horse, which he was constantly admonishing to travel a little faster, to keep steady, and not let himself be over-— taken by the mergiless savages. He was sov- eral feck. held his own ground well. In fact, when mat. ters had thus come to the pinch, his horse be- gan to show that he really possessed qualities — equal if not superior to the rest. Thus the four moved regularly and swiftly forward, = Steadily the distance lessened between the pepe and pursued. The savages felt confis ent of success, and now and then gave ven — to fierce, exultant yells. All at once Wane — daught gazed behind him and exclaimed : «Thar it comes! look out!” At the sarne instant several red ton, es of fire shot from the foremost Indians, and their rifles burst upon the air, The distance, how- ever, was too great, and their ballsilew wi ot owt wid. try Now,” annoven, *‘s’posen we our hand, Jim?” ~ Natt «« Hyerigoes,” he answered. ‘ oes Tho two suddenly wheeled their horses half LN i taka aim, and fire Py ae i a am “h ‘] a lf yi daught, whose appearance ‘was nearly the — fi _| same, iN 4 at the right of Vannoven, and also — pad Wi ae yes | aN ‘09 Bi na a 7 ‘a go rh ee es o ;) ic 7 ,. t if = if ‘ > f a alt ’ is eels) vi a ¥i
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6 The Fighting Trapper. “Whoop!” yelled Vic and Jim in concert, as they saw plainly that their shots had taken fatal effect ; for, strange as it may seem, two savages, mortally wounded, reeled and pitched from their horses at the instant the pieces were discharged. The infuriated Indians, giving vent to their demoniac howls, fired again and dashed forward. The two trappers deliberately loaded, and again wheeled and discharged their pisces, and with the same deadly effect. They were used to such business and under- stood it too well ever to waste a bullet. The redskins, without returning the fire, pressed forward more determinedly than before, bent fapon overtaking the whites at all events. “Heigh!” exclaimed Jim, ‘‘ we've got to let our hosses do their best!” As he spoke, his horse and Vannoven’s simultaneously leaped forward, increasing their gait very greatly indeed. _ Seth’s did the same, while the speed of Summerfield’s remained unchanged. The latter saw this, and, hesita- mga moment, suddenly turned to the left, and urged his horse into a full run. * Good-by all!” he said, cheerfully. ‘Look out for yourselves, I’m ina tight place, and can’t keep with you!” He smiled pleasantly as they looked won- meeney Bt him, and warned back Seth, who turnedto follow. The three saw that his move- ment was the wisest course, and they lost no time in idle words, but kept upon their own way. “Now, Ned,” said Summerfield, ‘‘do your bestfor awhile. Oursafety depends upon you ; and if you only show the rascally savages your true mettle, we'll give them the slip yet. What do you say, Ned?” f ed said “I will,” as plainly as an animal devoid of reason can, and so increased his Bt that his rider saw with a thrill of hope t he was distancing the savages. When he changed his direction he had faint hopes that the Indians would not follow hin. © was, however, sadly mistaken. As he gazed back he could see at least a dozen in full chase. Mile after mile flew under the feet of the pursuer and pursued. For a half hour, Sum- inerficld distanced his foes; then for a time the space separating him from them remained unchanged, but now ho saw too plainly that his animel was pre out! The savages were faining rapidly and surely. Nobly and pain- fully, however, did his animal struggle for his master. “0 God!” exclaimed Summerfield, ‘‘am I destined to die upon this friendless prairie ? Is there no avenue of escape! Save, Lord, or T perish !” Several times he thought of surrendering without further effort; but he too well knew the consequences of such a course, and still clung tenaciously to the faint hope that yet re- mained. Suddenly he saw that he was saved? Direct, ly ahead of him, he detected the white tops of a@ number of emigrant wagons. It was the Oregon trail they were pursuing across the con- tinent, and he well knew that strong and friendly arms were there. Although far ahead, he despaired not of reaching them; but urged his horse again forward. Soon he ceuld see the dark forms of the animals and men of thé in, and he raised a shout—a shout that reached both friends and foes. The latter re- turned it, and fired their guns at him ; and seeing that their prey had passed safely beyond their reach, they baited. paused a moment, and galloped away. CHAPTER V. THE EMIGRANTS, Turner are times when it seems that Provi- dence interposes directly in our behalf. We are sometimes almost tempted to believe that the days of miracles have not yet gone from earth, and are assured that hardly a person lives who cannot point to somé day when the hand -of his Creator was made visible—when he felt that something more than mere circumstances governed his destiny. When a man is brought so near death as to of life, and is then saved, he is certainly -in the best frame of mind to believe thus ; and _ fever a fervent prayer of thanks ascended to this saving Power, it did from George Sum- merfield’s heart as he rode forward toward the emigrant train. Ho could not but believe his @acape Was miraculous. His friends proved to be a company on their way to the wilds of Oregon. As may be sup- posed, they evinced no little surprise at our hero’s appearance among them, and over- whelmed him with questions and congratula- tions, all of which he pleasantly replied to, as his almost exhausted iran slowly made his way toward the centre of their train. They numbered about a hundred, all told, and were well provided for the sufferings and dangers before them. ‘‘ Rather a narrow escape,” suggested one of their number, looking up in Summerfield’s face with a quiet smile. “Yes,” returned he, ‘‘ rather narrower than I care about experiencing again.” ‘How far have you been coming at this rate!” “T can hardly tell Isuppose over a dozen miles. Had you been a mile or two farther, I should never have reached you.” «« What is-the prospect of their gathering for an attack on us, now that they have discovered our train ?” “Very certain,” answered Summerfield. ‘sThere are over one hundred Kioways in the baud, out on the war-path, and you may ex- pect thom down upon you this very night.” This alarming piece of intelligence was soon communicated through the company, but they all proved themselves men and women. There was o knitting of brows and compression of tips that showed tho terrible determination upon the part of the men; and though there was more than one blanched cheek and quiver- ing heart among the women, yet nothing of fear was said, and when Summerfield cheer- ingly remarked that whatever affray there might be, it would be a short and decided re- uise of the Indians, there seemed something Fike cheerfulness to again pervade the com- any: z Our hero felt nearly famished, and yielded to their urgent solicitatiors to eat. The company having concluded to halt for the night, he dis- mounted, and seating himself upon the ground, waited for his food. He was weary with his long race, and the repose of security was not un- welcome to his spirits. Ee was at length aroused from his half sleep by a sweet voice bending over him. “Your food, sir!" The young man sprang to his feet, as if the word ‘‘Indian” had been whispered in his ear. There stood before him a very beautiful girl of eighteen, bearing in her hands a platter, on which steamed a savory repast. Instantly the blood shot to his heart like a thunderbolt ; then it rebounded and spread over his face like asunset glow. Hoe was confused, and trem- blingly took the proffered dish. His eyes met those of his fair purveyor, to find them strug- glmg like his own, to find some other object upon which to rest, yet, like the charmed bird, unable to look away. It was a moment of mutual surprise and embarrassment ~* but why so, did neither know. “Qan I do anything more for you?” she at length asked, hesitatingly. «*Oh—ah—yes—as I was going to observe. I think so, too,” he replied, not knowing to what words he was giving utterance. He saw a quiet blush and‘smile upon the face before him, that disclosed the beautiful teeth she possessed, and convinced him that he was making a fool of himself. “Tf you wish anything, sir, just speak to this gentleman.” «Excuse me!” he added, blushing and stam- mering like a boy. ‘‘I misunderstood you, I believe you spoke of the weather. Rather pleasant, I think. Don't know but what we shall have a storm, however.” “I observed that if you wished anything, ee had only to speak to the gentleman at and,” she answered, with a half-coquettish expression. ‘Thank you, thank you, I will. My mind was so busy that I did not head your remark. Excuse me, will you?” “Oh, certainly, sir. I snpposed you were deeply meditating upon something,” she re- turned, turning and walking away. ‘Ha! ha! ha!” laughed the friend referred to, who had been curiously gazing at this in- terview, “I do believe now that you were struck. But you ain't the first one, old boy; and I spose it won’t do you no good, for she’s ot enough fellers hangin’ on her lips. But lame me,” hoe added, sobering down, ‘‘I be- lieve you're good enough lookin’ to out ot any ehap you're a mind to. Summerfield, as he saw that he had bees observed, blushed cep and at the last re- mark he felt a throb of pain. He hoped that the man would go away ; but, on the contrary, he walked closer, and added : ‘Don’t blame you much, for she is a fing gal, no mistake.” ‘*Yes—don’t you think we're going to have @ storm ?” “‘Ha! ha! ha! why, you're green.” *“«T confess,” returned Summerfield, recover- ing himself, ‘that I was struck with her ap pearance, and was foolish enough, I suppcse, to show it.” (However, this latter fact was fas from not pleasing him.) «Wall, as I said, I don’t blame you much, for there are a great many fellers who've got themselves in the same fix.” ‘«May I inquire her name ?” “«T spose so.” “‘Well, what is it, then ?” **Miss Vennond.” ««What is her given name? “T spose that was given to her.” ‘No ; I mean her other name.” **She hasn’t got it ag ; though I shouldn't wonder if it should be Summerfield one of these days.” “Fudge! don’t you understand me ?” “Yas, me and Viola both understand yer feelin’s, and I must say that I am sorry for you,” returned the imperturbable fellow with a great grin, ‘Any more questions?” he asked, deliberately seating himself by Summer- field’s side, and giving him a pinch upon his arm. Summerfield thought it best to preserve his good humor, .and so he asked : «« Where are her p2rents ?” ‘‘Her mother is dead, and her father emi- grated to Oregon some years ago, and sho is on her way to jine him. S'’pose you wouldn't mind seeing her agin ?” “Well, yes; Ishould be glad to,” replied Summerfield, with » poor attempt to conceal his anxiety. «Wal, come along, and I'll give you an in- trodue,” , Thus speaking, h? arose and-walked toward the main body, followed by our hero. A few steps breught them to where the females were, some seated and some occupied. All except Miss Vennond arose, and busied themselves with something. She was about to follow their example when Summerfield’s companion spoke. ‘Hold on a minrte, Viley ; here’s a fellex what wants to get acquainted. Mr. Sumnmer- field, this gal is Miss Vennond. Now, go to work,” he added, turn‘ng and walking rapidiy away. Summerfield bowed ‘ow, and blushed deep- ly. There was a slight flush upon the face of Miss Vennond, as she spoke: “Pray take a seat, that is, such an hun.ble one as we can offer.” Summerfield looked up, expecting his com- panion to make some further observation ; but as their eyes met,.each changed their direc- tion, and they were silent. Ho nervously fumbled his cap, but could think of nothing that would be appropriate. ‘Yo his relief, she asked : : ‘Have you travelled much iv this country ?” «‘ Well, considerable,” he replied, changing osition as though he experienced infinite re- lief thereby. ‘I passed over this country some years ago with a company of trappers, and am how going over the ground again.” Here came another vexatious Reee “T have heard,” commenced Viola, ‘‘ thea an attack from the Indians is apprehended, and believe that vou brought the informa. tion.” “Yes ; I was certuinly sorry enough to im part such intelligence. ‘Forewarned, fore armed,’ you know.” “Oertainly. And I heard, too, that you narrowly escapedcavture. Do tell me all about Oh ‘ Summerfield, now relieved of all restraint, gave a modest recitation of his adventure. It certainly thrilled him as he noticed the interest manifested by his fair listener, and perhaps he dwelt rather longer than was necessary upo@ the oe When he had concluded, she asked : «And you do not know what became of your companions ?” “No; but I do not fear for them. ‘They eo errs mounted, and without doabs effected their escape.” “Oh! this wera must be terrible. How .
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The Fighting Trapper. 7 3 have prayed that we might be saved from an encounter! YetI feel, and know, that awful scenes will be enacted before another day dawns upon us.” **T trust that we shall not have much trou- ole,” returned Summerfield, hopefully.~ «I am confident that your force is able to repel them, and think it will be done in a short time.” At this juncture, one of the females ap- proached, and, apologizing to Summerfield, whispered a word in his listener's ear, and then oat away. Immediately Viola arose, and daid : **You will have to excuse me, Mr. Summer- field. My presence is demanded, and I cannot refuse.” ‘Certainly, You must pardon me for de- taining you thus long. But the minutes have seemed as seconds, and I little dreamt that it was thus late.” ‘“‘No apology is necessary, for I labored ander the same mistake. Pleasure made me forget time.” Summerfield arose, and added : “As the evening is so close at hand, I sup- pose that we shall not see each other till morn- **__Tf then,” said she, gazing into his face. “Oh! Isee Iam more hopeful than you are. = any rate, I will only bid you a short good- y.” She extended her hand, and as he took it he felt that it was in a perfect quiver. “‘Good-by, then Miss—” “Viola, I think, is better.” “Well, good-by, Viola, and God be with vou.” He felt his pressure returned, and heard horlowreply. Ah! that pressure sealed the business with both. As for Viola, she wondered at her forwardness, and yet did not regret it, and Summerfield confessed to him- aelf that hia heart was lost—lost beyond re- povery, CHAPTER VL YHE NIGHT ATTAOK, ar ist the darkness settled over the prairie, and ine emisrants commenced their prepara- tions for {9 attack that each knew would be made ere anvther sun should dawn upon them. The wagons were arranged in the form of a circle around agother which held the females, and within this circle the animals were placed, to provent a stampede during the confusion, There were some ‘thirty or forty men, most oi whom were connectot by ties of blood, and most of whom had scn. ething more than their own lives at stake. ‘They had wives and chil- dren whose fate depende 1 upon the issue of the coming contest, and thare was a resolution shown by its own féarful calmness, by the com- re brows and set teeth, by the forms gli- ing silently back and forth, that they would either die or conquer. As soon as it was fairly dark the sentinels took their statiovs. These numbered all the men, who placed themselves around the out- side circle, where they stood with fingers on the trigger, waiting and expecting the slight- est sound or movement to be a signal trom their deadliest foes. Tae night was intensely dark, so that an enemy might approach within a few feet without being discovered by the eye of the keenest hunter. Summerfield took the point from which he judged the onslaught would most probably be made, and brought the most subtle powers of his being into play, in surmising the course that would most prob- ably be pursued. He formed his conclusions, which in the end proved correct. Several times he wus upon the point of dart- ing to the wagon containing the females, for the purpose cf reassuring ther, but prudence restrained him, and he remained at his post. He did not know but that the Indians were waiting for some suah negligence upon the ok ot the sentinels to commence the contest. ‘hey had done such things more than once be- Summerfield’s nearest friend was a few yards off, and of course invisible in the darkness. Several times they exchanged a word or two, but it was agreed, after a while, to remain si- lent, as their situations might be betrayed to ‘the savages by the slightest inadvertency on abeir part. Tn about an hour the darkmess seemed to les- gem, eo that ohjecta could be distinguished a few feet distant. Summerfield had remained listening intently ausee this time, but hearin; no sound of danger, he was about to risk a wor with his friend, when he fancied he heard a noise as if of some one gliding upon the ground. He peered forward, and was certain that he saw a human form flat upon the earth. He waited a moment, and then saw it hitch forward, toward the next wagon. Hardly knowing what to make of this he stepped forward toward it, when it suddenly leaped to its feet and sprang away. He would have fired had he been certain that it was a savage, but he feared that it was one of the emigrants, who had adopted this ruse to see whether a proper watch was kept. How- ever, as it was, he concluded to give the signal of danger, and accordingly, placing his hand to his mouth he gave two short, trembling sounds, loud enough to be heard by all, and his surprise was great upon hearing it return- ed by several, thus showing that he was not the only one who had detected danger. He determined to speak to his neighbor. ‘«Say, friend, have you heard—” The rest of the sentence was drowned in a thousand terrific yells and shrieks, that sent the blood shivering back to his heart! Then came the deafening crash of fire-arms, the whizzing of bullets, and shouts as though a legion of demons were struggling for life. He saw shadowy forms springing and leaping around him, and in a second he was in the midst of the fiercest fight that he ever witness- ed. Some halfa hundred Indians had made a rush, expecting to carry everything before them, but were received at the very muzzle of the rifle. ‘(he savages were determined to break through the circle and drive off the horses, and slaughter the women and children, and the whites inwardly swore that not one should accomplish this unless it was over their dead bodies, At the first second the guns were discharged, and drawing their knives, the two parties fought like tigers. Summer- field felt fired by the contest, and in a wild cestacy of excitement he leaped forward, and in an instant was grappled jn with a powerful, swarthy savage. ‘Together they rolled to the earth, the savage desperately endeavoring to wrench the rifle from Summerfield, who, strangely enough, had not yet discharged it. Numbers rushed over the prostrate, writh- ing bodies, but noticed them not. Before they were aware of it, they had risen to their feet, and still continued twisting and striving for the rifle. . One hand of the savage was closed around the barrel at about half the dis- tance from the muzzle to the breach, and the other was upon the stock, while Summerfield’s right was upon the lock and his left upon the endof the barrel. Quick as lightning he thrust his left hand forward, forcing the muzzlo in the face of the savage, and raising the ham- mer, the rifle discharged its contents through the head of the savage ! At this very instant the Indians made a break and rushed into the circle, and now in- deed commenced the struggle’of life anil death! The whites well knew their situation, and as fiercely and madly rushed they among them ; thus in a moment they were driven tumaltn- ously back with half their number either dead or in their death agonies upon the ground. But this was not accomplished until the second wagon had been reached and its inmates scat- tered! Thinking that all hore was gone, many of the women and childryn rushed out, and in the confusion several were slain and captured, and among the latter was Viola Ven- nond! Summerfield had an justinctive know- ledge or presentiment that sh» was in danger, and sprang toward the wagon. Just as he reached it, he heard his name called in fren- zied accents, and turned to rash in the direc- tion from which it came, when he felt that he was shot, and, as his brain reeled, he fell to the earth. When he recovered, the noise of the battle had entirely ceased, and in its place he heard the moans and struggles of the dying around him. As he arose this feet, he found that he had been severely wounded in the side, but in the state of his feelings he felt but little pain. Several fires had been kindled; the wounded were placed beside them and guarded and watched by their mourning friends, Summer- field passed hurriedly around the circle, and in answer to his anxious inquiries was told that Viola, with several others, had been carried away by the Indians. It is true that this was what he had expected, yet he felt nearly over- come by the intelligence. ak’ Bid Tet ing ; te sree LAMM PD cae hha fhe tt id alt § He examined his own wound, and found thas it was necessary to attend to it immediately. The others were all occupied, and, without seeking assistance, he bandaged it as well as possible under the circumstances, and then ponies among the others to see what assistance 6 could render. At last the morning broke and showed the full herrors of the night’s events, yet Summer field was glad to find it was not so bad as he had feared. It was found that but five of the emigrants had died, while nearly all of the rest were wounded, yet none mortally. Two females, besides Viola, had been carried away. Nearly twenty savages lay stark dead around, showing how dreadful and fearful the contest had been. A few of the animals had been killed, yet not enough to seriously disable the company. A large grave was dug, into which the five bodies were placed and covered uw when preparations were made to resume th mournful march. The bodies of the Indians were left lying above ground, where, in the clear air, they might preserve their form and every feature for many a long month, and about noon the traim set out upon their gloomy march. Summerfield debated long whether to ac company them or not, but at last decided to leave them. ‘The distance to Oregon waa great, and there was, in fact, nothing to draw him thither, while he experienced a desire to not leave the neighborhood in which he i posed Viola to be. He believed that the tri which had captured her was at no great dis- tance, and that it was in his power to rescue her. Accordingly he bade his friends adiet, and changed his direction more to the north, hoping to intercept or come upon Vannover and the rest. A lover—especially a young one—rarely sesses more reason and foresight than he should, and it was not at all strange that Sum- merfield should indulge in some wild and improbable speculations, and form wilder and more improbable determinations. As soon as he was free from the caravan, he reined his horse into a slow walk, rested his arms w his sides, and commenced meditating. It is not to be denied that hours flew past, yet found him undecided. Night drew slowly on, yet there was nothing in sight but the en boundless prairie. Casting a glance around the darkening hori- zon, and seeing nothing but the monotonous roll of the plain, he halted, dismounted, and prepared for his comfortless rest. Tirst, he turned his horse loose, cautioning him to re- main within hailing distance, and then spread his blanket upon the earth. Then he looked at ita moment, and lying down upon one edge and coiling himself up, took hold of it wi his hand, and rolling over several times, he was 80 completely wrapped up that ne but his head was visible. His wound so pain him that he was compelled to lie in a certain position to secure a comfortable sleep. For a long time he lay, giving fall scope to his airy imagination, and forming new and even wilder determinations, until, feeling the drowsiness of slumber coming over him, he invoked the watchfulness of Heaven, and was © soon oblivious to all external things. He had slept probably an hour or so, when, from some cause unknown to himself, he awoke, He supposed he must have changed his position during sleep so as to pain his wound, and thus cause him to be disturbed; and, after lying quietly a few moments, he again fell asleep, A few minntes after, he again awoke in a poet shiver of terror, just as ho had reached the culminating point of a horrible dream. Although believing his wound was the cause of it, still he experienced a culiar dread, that led him to draw his blanket more closely around him, and prevent himself from looking out to see whether there was any cause for alarm. @ lay quietly, endeavoring to fall asl when his heart leaped as he heard, not far the sound of footsteps! At first he thought it might be his horse ; but he was too well ac- quainted with his step to be deceived. He was confident that human beings were around him, It was they who had awaked him, For a moment he hardly breathed, listening so intently. Then, as a faint hope that he might not have been discovered began te ring up, he-felt some one pull rudely at hig blanket, and as it came off, he looked up and saw a number of dusky forms around him. | “Eh, white! dog! burn!” said one, closing
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his bony fingers upon his arm like rods ot fron, and actually lifting him to his feet. Sum- merfield said nothing, but suffered himself to be led silently away. OHAPTER VIL OAPTIVITY: Prnamars Summerfield’s state of mind may be ay apg as the overwhelming sense of his condition came upon him. His dejection and melancholy were painful, and he had, In fact, been suddenly kurled from his airy re- gions of bliss to the chilling reality of woe— a transition from hope to despair. His captors jerked him rudely forward, giv- ing vent at intervals to fierce and malignant curses and threats in broken English ; and their expressions of hate and intended venge- ance were so constant, that he realized too well the fate intended for him. One of them had secured his horse, although all were mounted, He was placed upon one of the In- dian beasts, and with a wary enemy upon either side, they broke into a canter and struck toward the southwest. The gavages who had thus come upon and captured Summerfield, belonged to the Pawnee tribe, and were # portion of a war party. They numbered but five, who had voluntarily sepa- rated themselves from the main body during the day, and were returning toward home, when they discovered a svlitury horseman pro- ceeding leisurely over the prairie, At first they were disposed to shoot him down, but, as he did not appear to know that he was observed, they concluded to capture him by stratagem, if possible. Accordingly, they kept him in sight until night, when they set rapidly for- ward, and late in the night, came directly upon him, sleeping upon the earth. One or two proposed to tomahawk and sealp hizn as he lay asleep ; but, after a short consultation, it was determined to capture and reserve him for the torture. This was successfully accomplished, aud they set ont to reach their tribe. The cuptors journeyed forward, after a time, without exchanging words, save now and then to utter some warning threat to Summerfield, when they judged that there was danger of his not fully realizing the pleasures that were in store for him; yet their glances seemed to grow moro baleful and demoniac at every step, and the captive concluded that, if there were ever devils incarnate, they were now beside him. They certiuned in nearly a due northwest di- tection, sometimes, however, proceeding more 0 the north, until noon, when they halted for afew minutes. This was only to breathe their horses, for they partook of no food, and were shortly en roule again. In the afternoon they forded several streams of considerable size, and reached a country of a much wilder and more romantic appearance than what they had passed through heretofore. Summerfielc had never been so far north, and even in his pres- ‘ent situation he could not help admiring the enchanting scenery around him. He believed that he was far beyond the trapping grounds of the whites, and where no human except the savage had trod, and where but few of them even wandered. At-first he had hoped that they would remain in the neighborhood where he believed Vic and Seth to be, but he was now well satisfied that there was no hope for him on that ground ; that what efforts might be made for his escape, must be made solely by himself, and what success crowned them, must rest upon his own endeavors. Just as the sun was setting, they reached the Indian village. It was composed of soma thirty or forty rough wigwams or lodges, ar- ranged so as to form s rough, irregular street. As soon as the savages came in sight of it, they uttered three long echoing yells, which in @ moment wero returned by a hundred lusty throats within the village. They then rode forward and entered it, and were surrounded ‘ya multitude of women and children, jab- bering and screaming like wild beasts. Sum- merficld they dragged mercilessly, from his horge, and, although they could not help ob- serving his condition, yet he was subjected to | all manner of barbarities. The women jerked and pushed him, the children belabored him ' with sticks, and pulled his hair from his head by the roots. He was nearly stripped, and un- derwant all indignities possible. At first he was disposed to resist these liberties, but he The Fighting Trapper. saw that it was utterPy useless, and made no effort or attempt. His captors had left him with the women and children, and gone on to the extremity of the village and joined the rest of the warriors Summerfield hoped that they would, after a while, take pity upon his condi- tion and let him remain. But he was mis- taken. The evidences which he gave of suf- fering only increased their fiendish delight, and they continued to tormer4 him with greater de- termination. He sank to the earth, but wasim- mediately overrun with children, who scream- ed with pleasure. He saw that he would be killed shortly should he remain thus, and sprang to his feet, hurling his tormentors madly from him. He felt the fever increasing in his veins, and already his vision was becoming strange and dizzy. It appeared as though he were dreaming, the ground seemed rising and turning, and he reeled like a drunken man. Several times a true sense of hissituation and condition flashed across him, and then all was lost in one wild, wonderful illusion. He was raving mad! The young savages paused a moment as they saw the unearthly light that gleamed in his eye, but in an instant they sprang upon him again. As quick as lightniny he leaped for- ward, bearing a half-grown boy to the earth, clutched him by the icet, and swinging him- self clean around, dashed l¥s head against the earth, crushing the skull, and scattering the brains in every direction! Then, giving vent to a half shriek and yell, darted away with the swiftness of the panther. This latter movement had been seen by sev- erul warriors, and they instantly rushed after him. Summerfield’s unnatural strength lasted but o few moments, and he had gone but a short distance when he stumbled, fell, and was unable to rise. In a moment his pursuers were upon him, and had raised him to his feet. Summerfield stared idiotically at them. Per- haps at that moment they understood his con- dition, and their gtony hearts were touched with pity. They gazed at him a moment, and listened to his wiid, incoherent raving, and seemed to understand that his senses were gone. They consulted a second or two before returning. ‘One proposed to brain him on the spot; but the others determined to take him back, doctor him until he had fully recovered, and then carry out their favorite idea of put- ting him to the torture. Accordingly, laying firmly hold upon him, they led him slowly toward tho village. The young savages came swarming toward him, and several sprang at him, determined to fully avenge the death of their cormpanion, The men, however, kept them back, and restrained the demonstrations made by, the infuriated squaws. These latter, too, when they were made acquainted with the captive’s condition, seemed to feel a degree of pity, and checked their cries and _ threats. Summiecrfield was led to the extremity of the village, to an edd, strange-looking lodge, where dwelt the ‘*medicine worman” of the tribe. Here he was left in charge of the old woman, and most of the rest, in »bedience to her commands, left for their several homes. The medicine woman watched and attended Summerfield with the kindness and) assiduity ofa mother. As she placed him upon the soft bed of skins, he had a lucid moment, and re- alized his condition ; yet he judged it prudent to conceal the fact that he had regained hir senses, and still affect delirium. The lodge consisted of but a single room— large, square, and with one opening for ingress and egress. It was hung around with many different kinds of skins, and with many Indian garments. At one side, over a small, smoul- dering fire, was suspended a common kettle, with the contents of which she busied herself es Summerfield was thus taking his scrutini- zing survey of the interior. He gazed witha strange fascination upon her repugnant fea- tures, but his mind finally became drowsy and wandering, and at last he dropped off into the realm of dreams. He slept until midnight, when, his fever in- creasing, in a torment of thirst heawoke. The medicine woman detected the movement as he raised himself upon his elbow, and shuffled quickly up to him. “‘Water! water!” demanded Summeriield She gently forced him back upon his bed, and in answer to his wish, poured from the kettle a steaming fluid which she placed to his lips. fe swallowed the contents eagerly. It was bitter, and so hot that it fairly made him writhe with pain. It, however, wea an ano- dyne, and in a moment so quieted his nerves Mig he sunk into a peaceful, dreamless slum- er. We need not record the story of his conva- lescence. His wound healed readily, and the potent herbs of the medicine woman drove the consuming fever from his system. In a few days he was able to sit and partake of nourishment, and in somewhat over a month he had entirely regained his health, As soon as he was able, he busied himself in doing small chores for his mistress--such as carrying water, building her fire, and the other jobs- that he saw was needed. He often anticipated her desire, and sometimes took the vessel pleasantly from her hand and hastened away to accomplish her wish. ‘This, of course, ha. its effect. She could not help being pleased (although she seemed to take particular pains to conceal it) at this exhibition of aa § wil! and obedience. This woman, as has been stated, was the medicine woman of the tribe, which position she had held for some half dozen years. Pre- vious to this, her husband had been the medi- cine man for a great number of years. The couple were never blessed with children, but were cheerfully supported and supplied with food by the warriors of the tribe. When any were wounded in battle, they were brought te this lodge, and remained until they either re- covered or died, and those stricken down by sickness received the same treatment that Sum- merfield did. From long association with har husband, this woman came, in time, to pussens as good a knowledge of medicine as did he, arvi upon his demise the tribe unanimously de- clared that she should fill his place. This wes not unexpected upon her part, for she knew that none were as capable as herself. She wi self-willed, and exercised considerable influ- ence over the rest. None durst ever thwast: her wishes. She beat the children when she chose, and railed at the warriors and squaws whenever the whim took possession of her, and really was their queen. One day, some two months after Summer: field’s capture, a couple of warriors came te the lodge of the medicine woman, and de manded him for the torture. The only answer she gave was a tremendous thwack over their heads with a heavy stick, and the assurance that he belonged to her, and she should keep, him. This was so unexpected that they ven- tured to demur, which so enraged her that she nearly cracked the skull of one of them, and bade them never enter her lodge again. T’e savages, much crest- ‘allen, slunk away and im- parted the discouraging fact to the others that: they were cheated of their intended prey. There was considerable murmuring and remon- strance, but it was useless. The wish of the medicine woman was law, and none durst eross her path. Summerfield had been a witness of this in- terview, and had learned enough of the Indian. tongue to understand it. How it thrilled him to the very heart when he saw that the terri- ble torture had been averted! How he loved the old decrepit woman! He felt like kneel- ing at her feet and kissing her garments. But he checked his tumultuous feelinys and en- deayo-ed to exhibit no traces of the wild pleasure that filled him. From tho first, it was her intention to preserve his life end save him from the others. She was getting old, and felt the heavy hand of time upon her. She witth- ed some one to fill the place of a son, and fletermined to adopt the paleface. She meunt that he should be a son and a slave; Fle would have all claim upon him, and her right should not be interfered with by the others. One day, late in the autumn, a war party, which had been absent nearly a week, return- ed with a prisoner, and Summerfield learned, that he was to be burned at the stake that af- ternoon. ‘This fact was communicated to him by the medicine woman, who further inform- ed him that she should be present, and guve him also permission to attend. He had no desire, however, to witness the torture of a hu- man being, and he felt that it would be safer to keep away from the savages at such a time. Accordingly he feigned sickness, and remuin- ed within the lodge during the afternoon. He could hear the wild, frenzied shouts and shricks of the tormentors, and thanked God fervently that he had been saved such a fate. Toward night the tumult ceased and the med- icine woman returned. Summerfield awoke at an early hour, and, yielding to an impulse, arose and walked out:
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{ to the opposite exeremity of the village, to the lace where the wretch had been burned. Prove he saw a sight that made him shudder. The savage had been bound to a small tree, and a huge pile of fagots placed around him. These hid been fired and had burned nearly every particle of flesh from his body. Be- low the knees, the bones were white and glis- tening, without a particle of flesh, while in different parts of the body wore clinging a few erisped cinders! The ashes still contained liye coals, and the smell of burning flesh filled the sir. As he stood gazing at it, sev- eral bones dropped to the earth, and, sick at heart, Fé turned and sought his lodge. A short distance from the village, flowed a stream of cgnsiderable size, which was a trib- utary of the Yellowstone. Summertield had determined that this should be the route of escape. Some night he would set himself afloat upon it, and conceal himself until his enemies had given over all hopes of capturing him, and then reach the trapping grounds of the whites, discover Vic, and return with him to the States, The following spring he fixed tapon as the period to make the attempt. But he was compelled to see the spring and summer months pass away without the slight- est chance being given ; and, to mako matters worse, in the autumn the tribe gathered their effects together and moved farther to the westward. This migratory life is led by most of the savages of the far west, who change their abode at any moment the whim takes them. They will sometimes wander for a hun- dred miles before deciding upon a place to form a village ; and perhaps after remaining a few months, again take up their goods and wander off again. Like the Arabs of the des- ert, they journey from place to place and cali no spot their permanent home. Another winter dragged wearily by, and Summerfield’s chances seemed no better than before. Sometimes the thought would come over him that he should never escape, but live and die among these savages; and then ae would resolve to make the trial at all hazards. Be would have a chance, and the worst result could be but death, which wonld ba no worse than his present moée of existence. But pru- dence whispered in his ear to wait, and the time would soon come, And during all this time he had not forgot- ten Viola. Many a long and otherwise weari- some hour had been d in thinking solely ef her. Ho admitted that he loved her, and something seemed to tell him that his ardent on was returned. He wondered what tribe held her, and whether she was yet living and unharmed. He sometimes thought and believed that she was not many miles distant, and the thought that he was securely fettered was maddening aknost to desperation. And then again Summerfield ceased his anx- ious hopes, and reflected of his gentle sister, far away in the States. Ere this she must have known that he was either dead or a prisoner among the savages. His fate seemed cruel in- deed. In the spring, hope was again awakened and turned in another Aireckti The tribe gathered their effects together and made a long journey to the southeast. In fact this was carried so far that they located themselves directly in the trapping ground of the whites. Summer- field believed that the time for action had now arrived, and determined that, in two weeks at the most, his fate should be decided. — CHAPTER VII. VIOUA'S CAPTIVITY, As has been recorded, the savages, during their night attack upon the emigrant train, succeeded in breaking through the line of wagons, and reaching the one that held the females, scattering its terrified inmates. Viola, leaping to the ground, was immediately seized in the arms of a powerful savage ant borne rapidly away. She screamed and astroggled desperately, but it was useless, and in a few moments was carried beyond the reach of friends, She was placed upon a large, powerful horse, end the company rode oe ngs forward antil morning, when they halte iola wag surprised to see that no other captives were with her, when she felt certain that several had bean taken. She learned shortly, how- ever, thai tha aompany had separated—the other keeping them. Her own party numbered some thirty. Her captors journeyed forward most of the day, and in the afternoon reached the Indian village, which was somewhat smaller than the one belonging to the Pawnee tribe. She found that she was ameng the Crows, a great and ex- tensive tribe, now inhabiting Minnesota, As a general thing, for a number of years past, they have been friendly to the whites, although now and then a war party, flushed with the ex- citement of battle, has been known to attack bodies of emigrants ; and it has often been found that they have retained prisoners for years, Tbeir grounds are so far to the north that but few opportunities are afforded for re- covering any prisoner that they may chance to hold. There was much commotion among the In- dians when it was known that a pale-faced captive was among them. The squaws gath- ered around, and there was more than one baleful glance of jealousy at the fair face of Viola. Her meek beauty and loveliuess exci- ted the admiration, and at that moment she was not conscious what a wild passion she had awakened in the heart of more than ong sav- age. She was taken to the lodge of the chief, and given to understand that, for the future, she was to consider this her home. Viola felt that she was beyond the reach of friends, and it was vain to look for succor. Hope was gone, but she despaired not. She determinod to do her utmost to gain the good- will of the chief, and beseech him to return her to her friends, She believed that she could eventually prevail upon him to do this. The chief of this portion of the tribe—for it was but a portion—was a middle-aged man, much beloved by his subjects, and one who wielded an all-powerful influence, The royal lodge situated near the centre, was much su- gerior to the others. It contained several rooms, and was furnished with all the luxuries that ever graced the savage life, The choicest apartment was given to Viola. She thanked e chief kindly, and accepted it with pleas- ure, Viola busied herself in arranging the glitter- ing beads, and making small trinkets for the two children of the chief. This pleased them greatly, and in time they evinced a genuine affection and love for her. They were both boys, one a dozen, and the other some ten years ot age. Their father often sat and grimly smiled as they gathered around her with their child- ish St papcsine and thanks, while the mother would sometimes pause and utter some kind word to her. ‘Thus the winter passed and the spring came. Viola had fixed upon this sea- son as the poriod to supplicate the chief to re- turn her to the whites, when a strange circum. stance occurred. There was considerable trouble among the neighboring tribes, and several bloody battles had been fought. In one case a party of Crows had attacked and nearly exterminated a small company of emi- grants. In this attack they would have been most signally repulsed had they not been as- sisted and ‘ed by a white man! He seemed perfectly bc side himself with fury, and urged on the savages as long as there was a chance to slanghtex. Some half-a-dozen escaped only by flight, after being pursued a great distance. This white man had signified his intention to remain and live with the Indians, and had re- turned with them. When they were told of his — strength and prowess, they nearly worshipped him as a superior being, and his influence was nearly equal to that of the chief. The next day after his arrival, he married one of the squaws and erected himself a lodge. Viola had t been told of his arrival, and her first impulse was to seek him ; but when the chief communicated to her the circumstances, plain sense told her toshun such a dangerous and evil-minded man, She endeavored to avoid meeting him, and for two weeks suc- ceeded. But matters could not remain always thus. Intelligence of her presence yas com- municated to the white man, and be deta mined at once to see ker. It was a plessant day in spring that she was seated in the chieftain’s lodge, playing with one of his children. Both the man and woman were gone, and she was alone with the boy, who was full of Suddenly the door was darkened, She looked up and saw the veritable white man before her. He was stand- ing in the door, gazing curiously, with a half grin at her. She started, and felt her heart shrink as she observed his vulgar gaze. Sho The Fighting Trapper. 9 nodded slightly, when, without heeding kez, he remarked : ‘‘Rather warm day, this,” at the same time lifting his cap and brushing the matted hair from his forehead. “Yes,” returned Viola. im and take a seat?” He stepped heavily in and seated himself upon a rude stool, near the door, Then he threw one leg over the other, whistled part of a song, then hummed it, and connate by ejecting a mouthful of tobacco-juice in the face of the boy, and making a jump toward him. Frightened and screaming with pain the lad ran from the lodge as rapidly as his feet could carry him. ‘*Wagh! wagh! wagh!” laughed the white, teaning back and slapping his knee with his hand. Rather scart, ess. Wanted to get im out of the way, so I could talk with you. and ‘cluded to take a ’riginal way to do it. Viola was justly indignant at what she had witnessed, and felt like rising and leaving him also ; but again something seemed to her toremain and be civil to him, ““So they've got you, hev they?” he queried. «Yes ; I have been a prisoner some time.” ! “Won't you step “ Yeoh, like it much ?” “Iam treated very kindly, although, of course, I should prefer to be with my own kindred.” “Yeah. Wal, being we're both white, or leastways I pretend to be, we mought as well gid uainted, My name is Sam Redsel.” “ Viola Vennond is mine,” “Yeah. Dunno as I ever heard it From the States ?” “Yes ; from Kentucky.” “Yeah. Wal, I’m from the States, too, and hev tramped around considerable; but I got among alot of —— rascals, and ’cluded as how redskins were as good as any, and so I’ve took up with ’em. You ’quainted with any trap- pers ?” ** There was a man by the name of Summer field, who joined—” “What nameis that?” «‘Summerfield—George Summerfield, I be- lieve, who was ‘vith us a day or two, altho I dil not see him after we were attacked.” Viola was about to say more, but paused as = saw the or contortion Sista bes eae mie Powe emotion was soul Baddenly, he spoke ; bi “Say, gal, do you seo that ‘ar mark?” As he said this, he turned his face toward her and pointed to the cicatrized wound that Seth had ren. Yes,” faltered Viola, “Wal, that chap done it!” «“What! Summerfield?” ‘ **He didn’t himself; but he’s the cause of {t, and done what's as bad, and I've sworn that, ef that feller’s livin’, he’s got to pay for it’ Yas, sir-c-e!” and he clenched his spas- modicatly and fiercely struck his knee. He continued muttering a few moments, and then an embarrassing pause to Viola followed. At last, to change the subject, she asked : “Did I understand you, Mr, Redzel, to sa Gas yon intended to spend your life with this tribe?” “I don’t know what you understood, but that’s what I said, and what I intend to do, too. Az long as whites live, why Sam Redzel ain’t goin’ to Tive with ’em.” “T suppose that you have great cause for provocation.” «That's so, A et “T would thank you not to address me reel said she, provoked at his coarse familb arity. ‘Whew! how then, beauty” ** Any way but that, “ad ing “* Miss Vennond do?” ‘Yes, sir.” > “Oh! no, Vily, Vily; that’s it, that’s 1% Shoot my old hide, Vily, ef you ain’t good lookin’. That's the fact.” And he arose and patted her cheek. > ‘Mr. Redzel, I would thank you very much to treat mo as the 68 le she, with) cutting indignation, Beat hen self peat from him. ce ‘Wal, now, Vily, you ain't mad, are yer?. T's just in fun.” Bais ’ “T don’t care about such fan as that.” “Yeah. I wouldn’t care either.” “And I would prefer to bo alane.” “Wal, blast ye, be alone then!” exclaimed Redzel, enraged, as he arose and lefh
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| ‘10 At Pie [oceaee the chief entered, and Viola related afl that had occurred. fo was pro- voked, and assured her that it should not hap- again. She seized the present opportuni- ito legal her suit. ‘Why not send me away, and thus be rid of <he trouble I cause?” The chief was perfectly taken aback at this: He gazed at her, as if doubting her senses, Bhe repeated the question. “Oh! Mascanagh cannot spare the white maiden.” “Why not? She does no good, and how dd he do before they robbed her of her friends?” “‘No, no; she is a part of his household. Mascanagh cannot spare her.” “O Mascanagh! the white maiden has wrought for you, and been pleased with your smile and disheartened with your frown. She has done all that she can to soften your heart, and will you not now restore her to her home? Oh! do not refuse me this!” The chief seemed affected, and shook his head. Viola sank on her knees before him. “OQ Mascanagh, refuse me not this!” “ Arise,” said he, lifting her to her feet, “and I will talk with thee.” Viola’s heart throbbed at this, and she raised her streaming eyes to his, ‘<The way is long,” said he, ‘‘and who will guide thee?” **Can you not?” \“*I cannot leave my tribe.” “Surely there are many who would.” “Viola,” said the chief, in a thrilling, ear- nest whisper, ‘‘had better remain with Mas- canagh. Many warriors love ber, and should she leave with any they would kill her. The white man loves her and woald make her his squaw. She has no friend but Masca- nagh, This was a truth which had never crossed her mind before. She had never dreamed that she had awakened a passion in the breast of any savage, much less in the heart of Red- vel ; but now that her suspicions were aroused, she recollected many things which went to stre en the remark of the chief. She re- merobered many strange glances that had been given her, and many strangp actions upon the part of several warriors. "Cannot Viola be returned?” she asked, mournfully. **T will see,” returned the chief. ‘‘Say no moro about it, Mascanagh will do what he can for the white maiden. Let her wait.” “Thank you! thank you!” exclaimed she, opm The chief arose and passed out, and shortly eatored with his wife. The boy returned soon with inflamed eyes, and the mother, enraged, demanded that the white man should be punished. The chief said nothing, but his er was great. Viola consoled the child, and succeeded in pacifying the parents. She urged them to let the insult pass for this occa- gion. She saw that, should a collision occur, it would be a terrible one between the chief and Redzel. At last they consented to over- look the insult, but Mascanagh affirmed that the white man’s blood should pay for the repe- tition of a similar act. Meanwhile Viola waited and hoped. She gaw too plainly that half a score of savages watched at every movement, and Redzel dogged her steps whenever she left her lodge. She felt alarmed at the state of affairs, and earnestly hoped and prayed that she might be delivered from the fate that seemed impending. CHAPTER IX. _ BBOCAPE AND THE PERILS OF A NIGHT. Sommerrrimip, by long and seemingly cheer- ~ ful obedience to the medicine woman's veriest whims, succeeded in convincing her that he meditated no hope of escape, and was willing to reside with her tribe for life. Severai times she had hinted that there might be opportunity offer, but he stated that, as he had no friends among the whites, he cared not to avail him- self of it; and thus, as we have said, she camo to believe, in time, that he was contented with his lot. Thus he gained considerable liberty for himself, and was often absent fora long time from the village without exciting any ap- prehensions upon her part. One morning he arose, and taking one of the Tne Fighting Trapper. medicine woman’s rifles, told her that he be- tieved he should spend the day in hunting. She made no objection, but admonished him to be on hand before evening. He promised obedience, and, throwing the over his shoulder, stepped lightly forth. e hour was so early that, as he gazed about him, he saw that the village was not yet astir. But he was seen. ‘There happened, by merest chance, to be a warrior who observed him leaving the village. This savage was his greatest enemy, and had abused him upon more than one occasion. Seizing his rifle, he stealthily and silently followed Summerfield, who dreamed of no pursuer. When he left the village, he had no thought of attempting an escape, but intended to gain still more of the old woman’s confidence by his punctual obedience. He had wandered buta mile or so, when the thought suddenly flashed upon him that the proper moment had arrived to make the attempt! The wild hope thus sud- denly awakened completely overcame him. With a heart throbbing painfully, he seated himself upon the earth and gave way to his emotion. In a few moments he mastered it, and began calmly reflecting upon the chances that favored him. He possessed a trusty rifle, and was well supplied with ammunition. This was his only weapon, yet it was sufficient to answer all purposes. And when would another more favorable opportunity be given him? What was to hinder him now? Could there be a better combination of circumstances in his favor? He would make the attempt. He would have a day and night before there would be danger of pursuit, and in that time he could place a long distance between himself and his enemies. es, he would make the trial at all hazards, He had just formed this determination and arisen to his feet, when he heard a step beside him, and looking up, saw the form of an Indian, whom he recognized as his deadliest enemy. He affected no surprise, but gazed at him as though his appearance at this particular mo- ment was a matter of course. e could not avoid, however, noticing the devilish grin that was on his face. “Eh! very brave, gone to run away! eh!” said the savage, halting and gazing into his Ce. Now that Summerfield. had formed the de- termination, he had also determined that nothing should stand in the way of the at- tempt. Besides, he remembered the indigni- ties that he had received at the hands of this savage, and he made up his mind that they were finished. He should suffer no more. ** Who said I was going to run away?” he demanded. ‘Eh, you run away!” “« Who said so, I say?” “Me say so! me say 50!” “Then suppose I tell you, you lie!” *‘ What's that? what's that?” demanded the savage, not fully comprehending him. *« Nothing, only you're a terrible liar.” ‘Me scalp you! me scalp you!” shouted rd Indian, his eyes glistening like a basi- 4: «<I don’t know about that, my copper-colored friend ; it takes two to make such a bargain.” ‘Give me gun!” said he, reaching for Sum- merfield’s rifle. “No, I thank ycv. I ain’t such a fool as that.” The savage was growing furious. He saw that his demands were refused, and he received in turn insult for insult. *Yourun away?” he asked. “‘ Well, yes, old copperhead, that’s my in- tention. Any objections? I find I am losing time in palavering with hi and if you have got anything to say, why out with it most mighty quick.” Summerfield leaned very gra- ciously on his gun, and grinned in the savage’e face. ‘‘Give me gun!” he again demanded, *‘ Well, take it, then,” said Summerfield, reaching it toward him. The savage stepped forward, but as his hand touched it it was withdrawn, and Summerfield, to console him in his disappointment, placed his thumb on his nose, shut one eye, and twirled his fingers in a tantalizing manner. This was too much for the infuriated savage. With a whoop of rage, he jerked out his knifo and sprang upon him. But Summerfield knew that this movement would follow, and was prepared forit. Seizing his rifle by the bar- rel, be swung it quickly around head, the stock down with a stunning eras) upon the skull of the savage. This done, hy again rested it upon the earth, folded his arns over the muzzle, and gazed complacently at. his fallen enemy. “Come, old chap, how long are you going to lie there?” he ekae at last’ The only answer was several painful twichew of the limbs. “Til give you a minute, and if you don’t come to time, why you're whipped. Do you understand ?” Several struggles as before were the only answer. ‘“‘Well, old fellow, you're whipped, and bli about as nicely as you ever were in your life, I reckon,” said Summerfield. The savage still remained unc@nscious, for he had given him a wound that would keep him insensible for a long time. ‘« Being it’s you, suppose I relieve you of the extra weight of these trinkets.” So saying, Summerfield took a couple of knives from his waist, rifle, and all his ammunition, thus leaving him entirely unarmed, and supplying himsel# as well as he could wish. «There! when you come to, just give my sompliments to the folks at home, and reserve uy good wishes for yourself. Good-by.” He sprang away, for he realized fully that his time was incalculably precious, The Indian would shortly recover, return, and the pursuit would be commenced. Capture would be cer- tain death. The medicine woman’s inter- ferencé would avail nothing, and should she be convinced that her prisoner was endeavor- ing to leave her, she would not resist the demands of the tribe. ; He started off likea frightenedanimal. The grounit seemed to fly from under him, and he ardly paused for breath “itil the sun was high in the heavens. Then he found himself upon the banks of a swift flowing stream It was some twenty yards wide, and appeared oy deep. The water was exceedingly clear and limpid, and the white pebbles could be seen glistening upon the bottom for a long dis- tance. He hesitated about entering it, for ti was icy cold, and it seemed nearly im ible to stem the strong current. At length, how- ever, he ventured, and resolutely p ed in It sent the shiver through his fate, ut he breasted it manfully and succeeded in soon reaching the opposite bank. He judged it was now past noon, and concluded to rest awhile and dry his garments. His ammunition was still ng and ready to use ; but he was startled to find that he had lost one of his rifles. Though bound to. his back upon entering the water, one had slipped out and fallen to the bottom without his knowledge. Hardly a half hour was spent in rest, when he hastened on again. He travelled by the sun, keeping in 6 i ae | direction, and carefully guarding against the tendency that rsons in his situation are subjected to ; that of journeying in a circle. Several times he found that he had aneaneetoray changed his direction ; the utmost wa 68s Was necessary to guard against a mistake that might be fatal. He judged that he could not be far from the Black Hills, and that he must be very near, if not directly upon the trapping grounds of the whites. This fact nerved him with hope, and gave him confidence in the chances before him. As the sun had nearly reached the horizon, he came upon the banks of another stream of considerable size. This, he saw, ran from the direction he wished to follow. Instead of crossing, be determined to keep along its banks. There would thus be no danger of travelling in a wrong direction, and a certainty of going south. The stream had its rise in the southern part of the Black Hills, and, after flowing northward, united with the Sweetwater, and eventually joined the turbid waters of the great Missouri. The journeying here was comparatively easy also. Ere night came upon him nature be te show itself. He was not only fatigued but in« tensely hungry, and felt that he must have food of some kind before he slept. Strangely enough, he had not come across any gee, and it seemed that the country contained none. But fortune fayored him, for, all at once, he stumbled upon a large bed of commotes. ‘This is a species of fruit found in the river bottoms of this section. It so closely resembles the commou radish, both in form and taste, that1¢ is often mistaken for it, andsome have gone se far as to assert that it is really the same fui? ¢
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wv (lade The Fighting Trapper. } sigan wild. Tt is more healthy and nutri- and is probably a different vegetable. Having satisfied the cravings of hunger, and as darkness had already commenced, he fedgod it prudent to look for a resting-place. rdering the stream were a number of large cottonwoods, and selecting one of these, he as- cended it. The branches were large and full, and passing out upon one, he secured him- self in such a position that he deemed no move- ment of hisown could dislodge him. His rifle rested upon the limb above him, and his posi- ticn was as really comfortable as it was pos- sible to make it. Resting thus pleasantly, it was not long be- fore the drowsiness of sleep came over him. Although he heard the clear, ringing yell of a ther in the distance, he did not let it dis- b his repose, but resolutely closed his eyes, and was soon in the realm of sleep. Toward midnight he had a startling dream. It seemed that he was running, without arms of any kind, and was pursued bya gigantic say- age, who gained rapidly upon him at every step. He strove, in an agony of terror to es- cape, but at lastin despair, sank to the earth. As the savage sprang upon him, he endeavored to scream, and—awoke, and found that he was i He clutched desperately at the limbs, but it availed nothing, and gliding swiftly through the branches he struck the earth. The distance was short, and he was not hurt in the least by the fall. He found, however, that he vas ina cold sweat of fear, and quickly as- cended the tree again. The moon had risen, and he could distinctly discern objects at acon siderable distance. He was provoked at this mishap, yet it was the most providential circumstance that could have befallen him. Like many other misfor- tunes, it was a disguised blessing. He had been in the tree but a few moments when he was started by hearing a pen pom and gaz- ing Praeheatinn df he saw, stealthily moving for- ward upon dis trail, the being of his dream! Aswarthy, powerful savage was coming direct- ly toward the tree! His hear\ was bent, and jummerfield well knew that jie was seeking his life. There was no .ime for hesit« ‘ion. The say- age was upon Summerfield’) trail, and the bright moon enabled him te follo# it rapidly bot surely. He did uot deep, he was so near the object of his serch, bat still was using customary caution. The bre «king of the twig was a strange accident. The whole truth flashed across Summerfield 9% once, and reach- ing up and taking his rifle, he took a quick but sure aim at the savage and fired! There was that ory of agony, the leap in the air, and he lay a quivering corpse beneath the tree. «God grant that there are no more!” ex- claimed the fugitive, hastily reloading. He waited in fearful expectation a long time, but 9% r.one others ps ashe he concluded that .bés raust be the only one upon his track. After an hour or so, he descended to examine the body. He was gratified to find that it did uot belong to the tribe he hadleft. It was prob- ably some solitary hunter who had accidentally some upon his trail, and with characteristic sunning judged it. to be a white man’s, and ha followed it for the purpose of slaying hin. Summerfield found that the bullet had entered at the top of the head and passod out through the back ; of course he was stone dead, and stark and stiff. Summerfield forced the fingers apart, and took the rifle, his powder horn, his bullet pouch, and his sealpiag knife. This done, he ascended the tree, determined to either bury the body in the :notning, or care- fully cover it with twigs an& leaves, Both rifles were loaded, and carefully ex- tending them upon tws bzanches overhead, he arranged his position 0 that he might sleep without danger of falling, and patiently waited for the gentle goddess to come. He La lain a half hour thus, ‘end had reached that state when one is neither asleep nor awake; when he was startled by that long, indescribable howl of the wolf! It wasa long way off, but in ® moment more there was another chorus, acurer, and still increased by a great number. in a short time came an answering howl from nearly the opposite quarter, then another from % different point, and in twenty minutes it seeured that the whole country was alive and swarming with them! He supposed that a number had scented his trail and that of tho savage, and had given these signals to the oth- ers in the neighborhood. At any rate he Inew that they were all centring toward the tree, and would be there in an unpleasantly short time. They were hot the common prairie wolf, but the real mountain wolf—an ani as much fiercer and more courageous than the former as is the bear to the common dog. At this season of the year they were nearly famished, and would hesitate to attack nothing. They generally united in great numbers, and no sin- gle body could withstand their determined onslaughts. Incredible as it may seem, instan- ces have occurred in which the grizzly bear has been overcome by their versistent and prolonged attacks. In a few moments he saw the lank form of a large, gaunt wolf, and in an incredibly short space of time the ground beneath the tree was alsh with them. They came from every di- rection, and their numbers seemed exhaustless. The foremost scenting the body of the savage, sprang upon it and tore it in shreds in an in- stant. Soon there was nothing left but the glistening bones, and they still snarled and fought over these, scattering them in every di- rection. : 4 Then they turned their horrid, bloody jaws up to Summerfield, as if to ask him to de- scend. ‘Yes, I suppose you would like to taste my precious carcass,” said he. ‘‘No doubt In- dian meat has whetted your appetite some- what. but I think rather too much of myself to mingle in your society. You must really ex- cuse me.” j The wolves were leaping and plun up- ward, fairly crazed by tho taste o blood. The moon was so bright that Summerfield could discern their movements plainly. He saw one large fellow become wounded by the claw of another in the struggle. Asma of blood issued iu the hi feet and in a twinkling he was pounced upon by a score of others, who tore him limb from li fn «What a pity you wouldn’t all do that!” said Summerfield as he witnessed it. As he had two rifles and plenty of ammuni- tion, he determined to do it for them. He fired at random. Askarp yelp told the result, and the snapping of jaws and growlings of hate betokened his fate. Summerfield waited a moment, until he judged that this had been devoured, and then discharged the second ri- fle among them. Ail wero instantly engaged in the ch ped over the fallen one. Again he fired, and again the same result. Their appe- tites seemed insatiate. Summerfield r wondered whether the last wolf would not still demand food after he had in et to eat all the rest! Such a thing seemed probable indeed. He had just loaded his own rifle and placed it above him for use, when it slipped and fell to the ground. The greedy animals immedi- ately sprang upon it and clawed it as though it were another victim. Summerfield immedi- ately fired to withdraw their attention, lest they should injure it. This practice he kept up for nearly an hour, until he judged that he must haye slain over twenty. His powder was now getting low, and he deemed it best to pre- serve it for future use. Aroretny socer ing it, he placed his gun above him and engaged himself in gazing down upon the strange sight below. Their actions afforded him amusement for a time, but soon they began to alarm him. Some were leaping upward so fu- riously that they caught at the lowermost limbs, and there really was danger of their re- maining upon them. All at once, Summer field saw that’ one had actually reached and was upon the limb! As quick as lightning he caught his rifle and sent the bullet crashing through his head. The brute rolled to the ground, where, of course, he met the fate of his companions. Our hero judged it best to fire at intervals, when there was a probability of the wolves becoming too clamorous and furious. Eve now and then he could see numbers approac. and join the maim body, until nothing could be seen but their dark, struggling bodies, As the moon, at intervals, was veiled by some passing cloud, their forms darkened, and re- sembled some hideous denizens of the lower regions. And then again, as their tawny hides, flashing eyes, and glistening teeth, came to view, their appearance was, if possible, more horrid and terrific than before. Summerfield felt that his was certainly a strange situation. He knew not where a single human being ex- cept himself was. He was alone in the Jar est, driven to a tree by a horde of famished quanti wolves, and in the middle of the ht was vompelled to keep watch to save hi one of the most Borie deaths that could be fall him. Despite ie seer, position and the boyrenie noises around him, he began to give s nai with “¢ terror heavy drowsiness! He s when he found it gaining upon him, and strowe to the utmost to shake it off; but, strange as i& may seem, he failed. He kept moving from limb to limb, until it seemed that his strength was entirely gone, and then, with a sad want of foresight, concluded to seat himself com- fortably and watch the yélping wolves beneath him! What might be expected followed-—the result that had nearly been fatal. In ten mim utes he was sound aslee: J i : Slowly, gradually, coll surely, hé commenced inki t ased, and still he ~ The motion inore slept! A limb brushed his face and he awoket He felt himself slipping, sliding, sinking, sink- ing, sinking, so horribly! He screamed and clutched like s madman at the frail trie but they glided like fiery serpents through blistered hands! ‘The wolves grew more fuxi- ous and crazy! He yelled, and clinched and struck out like a drowning man! Still he sunk lower, lower, lower, and it seemed he would never reach the ground! Oh, the concentrated horror of those interminable seconds! The agony of a lifetime may be compressed into a single moment! Summerfield felt like a writh- ing body of fire. but soon he passed below the limbs! There was an indescribable dizzy gliding though air, and he struck directly upon the back of a wolf! At the same instant, he gave a yell—se awful, so agonized, that it sounded far above the combined howls of the animals! His sud- den fall and terrific scream startled, for one moment, those directly around him, and they darted afew yards away. It was his moment of respite from a horrible death, and with a full realization of his appalling situation he Teene upward with the energy of ae is hands grasped the low sweeping bs above him. The wolves returned to their prize quickly, but their very eagerness thwart ed their purpose, for, leaping from different directions at the same moment they came in cole lision and dropped to the ground in a contorted, shrieking mass, How precious was that mo- ment! ihe power of Summerfield’s muscular arms was exerted to its utmost, and ho had succeeded ia gaining his position on a lower limb, when one of the brutes by a erate fastened his fangs upon the man’s foot. The creature did not let go its hold. Maddenedat this incredible tenacity, Summerfield shook his limb desperately, and the wolf fell—his isoned claws cutting to the bone of the ap- e, and stripping the moccasin from his lacer- a foot! a nbs canbane : he wering and quiverin an aspen, he ascended to\the topmost Sim , and clung till the morning. He drew a deep breath, and saw that the wolves were departing ; one by one they took themselves away, until none were left. He waited a long time, and then tremblingly descended, As he stepped to the earth, the pain of his mangled foot caused him to drop as if shot. The nails of the wolf, from their having clawed the putrid carcasses of animals, had a peculiar poison upon them, This caused his foot and ankle to swell enor- mously. After a few moments, however, he was able to stand upon it, and limped around and picked up his rifles. His own was tw yards from the tree! They were both co erably scratched and disfigured, but not Pw injured. ows these up, and his tattere moceasin, bedabbled with blood, he hobbled to tne brook, where he sat and bathed his wound in the cooling fluid. There was a pain- fal smart at first, but he soon found it relieved it, and continued his bathing until the yee had considerably diminished. Then he ce and thought upon the best course left for him to pursue, But one course remained, and that was te pursue his journey as rapidly as possible into the Black fills, in whose fastnesses he could find safety and, perchance, might meet with some adventurous trapper. Should he be dis appointed in this, however, he could pursue his way cautiously to the east, leaving itte — Providence to direct his steps. With as much speed as his swollen limb would permit, he started of his way, first crossing the stream, Tarrying on its opposite bank for a supply of commotes, he was startled at hearing voices, He crept close into the heavy mass of rank ‘ /
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and pulled 12 grass lining the bank of the stream, and then peered cautiously out. Within a dozen yards of him he saw three Indians following his trail. He saw them leave the stream and go toward the tree, where he heard them a long time in onversation. ‘Then they returned to the gtream and held another earnest consultation, when they started rapidly on the back track! They had thus given up all hope of recapturing him, and he was safe from farther pursuit. The explanation of their movement was this, They had followed the trail of the fugi- tive with much difficulty, yet with unerring certainty, to the point where it was lost in the numerous tracks of the wolves, Here they saw had been some fatal occurrence very re- cently. ‘They observed the bones of the wolves scattered around, and, at the base of the tree, discovered the skull and some of the bones of the savage. This they supposed to be the remains of Summerfield, and, of course, nothing was left for them to do but to return with that intelligence. Thus deeply are the most direct providences often veiled. Sum- merfield understood the meaning of the pro- ceedings of the savages, and in the gratitude of his heart he knelt upon the earth and offer- ed up his fervent thanks to the preserving Power that was thus watching over him. With the knowledge that there was no pursuit came @ sense of conscious security, and he regarded his ultimate escape as certain at that moment as though he were in his native state. For two days he pressed on slowly. His limb still pained him, but did not delay his escape. During the afternoon of the second day, when he had penetrated far into the depths of the hills, he'came suddenly upon the body of a savage, but recently killed. There was the bloody track of the bullet through the breast, the scalp had been ripped off, and the body stripped of nearly every shred of dress. It lay flat on tho back, each limb extended wide, and the insects of corruption were already at their work. He did not like this. It proved that Indians were around, and com- pelted him to exercise his utmost care. A canon of the mountain now opened before him, through which flowed a stream of consid- erable size, Upon the banks of this he de- tacted infallible signs of beavers. There were numerous tracks on the shore, and he was con- fident that a dam was not far off. Examining this bank closely, he came upon a se dug in it, and feeling carefully a few inches under the water, his hand touched the trap! There were whites, then, not far off. : Heaven ! He could hardly constrain his feelings from giving vent in a shout. He proceeded up stream to find them. As he ed on, he thought he heard a whistle. Following the direction indicated, he could guish a tune—yes, it was thatmelody soon distin of the West, the ‘Arkansas Traveller!” Still cautiously moving on, he came upon the whistler, A tall, lank man, with his side toward him, with o hat resembling 4 bee- hive, and his arms folded over the muzzle of his rifle, was contentedly whistling this melody. Summerfield gazed a moment in speechless astonishment. Those frightfully bent legs could belong to but one perton. Seth Potter was standing before him! em OHAPTER X. THE MEETING OF FRIENDS. for atime, Summerfield was at a loss how to proceed. Joy at this fortunate turn of af- fairs completely upset his ideas fora moment, At last he strode hastily forward and laid his hand upon the arm of Seth. ‘How are you, old friend?” said he, famil- iarly, his face aglow with pleasure. The indi- vidual addressed, without changing his pos- ture, stopped whistling a second with the re- mark : ‘ “Wait a minute. Ijust got to the turn of this ” and eeded deliberately tc finish the “turn” of it; then ‘turned ” himself, looked a moment in the face of the person be- fore him ; stopped whistling ; dropped his gun ; stepped back a pace or two, then jump- | ed forward. “ y thunder, it’s him! It’s him! It’s him!” And aang Summerfield’s hand, he shook eezed and twisted it, until \the poor fellow writhed with pain. The Fighting Trapper. ** Wor Heaven’s sake, Seth, don’t kill me! You have hold of my hand.” “Yas, sir; it's him! It's him! Whoop! I'd like to know where, in the name_of all that’s curus, you’ve come from? Why, sir, ifI hadn’t just squeezed your hand, I'd believe I seen a ghost.” Summerfield smiled, and at last broke intoa loud laugh. “Tl be darned if it ain’t enough to set a fellow crazy. Why, man alive, Vic and me have been one winter trapping here, gone back to Independence, come back here agin, and just as we’re going to tramp agin, you come along. If that ain’t funny, why, that’s all.” 3 Nei Vie and Jim?” asked Summer- eld. ‘‘Where’s Jim? He got killed at the same time youdid. Youmind that great chase when we lost you. Wal, the Engins got so close they hit Jim’s horse and tumbled him over. Howsumever, that didn’t make no difference. Jim kept on, jogging along as fast as before. I told him to jump-on my animal, ’cause you know there ain’t no hosses that I can’t out- run. Jim wouldn't do it, and bimeby he got a piece of lead that throwed him in his tracks. That was the last of poor Jim. Jim was a good chap.” ‘ «Where's Vie? He’s alive, you say!” “Yas, yaa ; he’s up in the ‘Hole.’ He'll be down pretty soon. We'd better wait till he comes. ‘Let’s set down on this stone.” «< Ain’t there savages in this neighborhood ?” asked Summerfield, as they seated them- selves. “Yas, a few; but they don’t know we're about. We manage to keep the traps close. Vic had a tussle with one down yonder yester- day. He'd found out we're about here, and we seen his tracks where he’d been for two or three days nosin’ around. He's after our hair, but lost his own.” “J believe I came upon him a short time since.” ‘Yas ; well, let’s hear about your capers the last year or two ; I want to know where you come from, though them Engin fixens you got on shows pretty near.” : Summerfield thereupon proceeded to give a short, rapid sketch of bis experience from the time of his falling into the hands of the Indi- ans up to the present moment. He was often interrupted by Seth, who was much excited with his narration. When he had finished, Seth asked : “Do you remember Redzel, George—that feller I had such a fight with?” “J don’t think there is much danger of my ever forgetting him.” “Well, sir, he’s up among the Crow Indi. ans, Vic seen him, last winter, with a lot. He’s jined them—gone with 'em, and I ca’cu- late as how that’s one reason why there’s been so many murders ’mong the emigrants this season.” «‘The fiend! Do you think he has had a hand in it?” «‘ He’s had more than a hand in it—he has had both hands.” “Well, his disposition is evil enough.” “‘Heigh! there comes Vic. Wait a moment, and just keep shady.” Summerfield saw the well-remembered form of the hunter approaching, and shrinking be- hind Seth, veiled his face as much as possible. In a moment Seth said, in a loud tone : «Come here, Vic ; here’s a redskin I catched at our traps. I’ve been trying to get his top- knot off, but can’t manage him. Quick, I want your help!” «Just jump out the way and let me puta piece o’ lead through his head. "I'wont take me long to settle the job for him.” Seth sprang away, and the movement had nigh been fatal. Vic was in the very act of raising his rifle to his shoulder, when Sum- merfield threw up his hands with a clear ring- ing laugh. ‘To have seen the trapper’s appear- ance then! His expression of comical won- der cannot be described. He stood a second, then dropped his rifle, took the cap from his head, shaded his eyes, and stooping slightly, peered forward in mute astonishment, At this int, Seth commensed jumping and dancing, ang his hat upon the ground, and went to stamping it, exclaiming at intervals : «That's the first time I ever got Vic. Heli have to give in now!” Vic’s eyes seemed to grow lighter and larger each moment. He still stood in his prone po- sition, seemingly bereft of all reason. Seth ce ane continued’ going up and down, his legs fiyh.. in every direction, until his foot came sudden\s in contact with a stone, throwing him heal over head. ‘The state of affairs was beccming embarrassing to Semmerfield, and, stepping forward, he said : ‘Vic, don’t you remember me ?” “T guess so. Is’ you, Somefield?” ke gasped, ‘Why, certainly. How are you?” And the two grasped and shook hands as only friends can. Seth approached, spread his feet far apart, placed his hands in the pock- ets which he had rigged in his dress, threw his hat on the back of his head, and looked on. «You appeared to not know me,” said Sum- merfield, pleasantly, «©Of course I knowed yer, but, bears anit buflers, who thort you’s him? I's sartin it’s n spirit I’s lookin’ at. Wagh! wagh! wagh!” And the trapper threw his head back ana langhed—laughed till the big drops tumbled down his cheeks. “Vie, you're a fool,” remarked Seth gravely. He paid no attention to this, but ceased laughing, stooped, picked up his gun, and said : ‘‘ Somefield, this yer’s the greatest time this heaver ever seed.” _ So Ises,” returned Summerfield. But it seems to me that we have enjoyed this sur priss long. Suppose we hunt up your lodgings and return.” As they proceeded, he continued : ‘Vic, is Wandaught dead ?” «There itis! Don’t you believe me!” de- manded Seth. ‘¢ Well, no ; I have some doubts about your respect for truth,” replied he, with a smile, Seth gave vent to a ‘‘Humph!” strode on, and Summerfield looked to Vic for the answer, “Yas,” said he. ‘‘Jim went under a long time ago, and died hard. Did Crooked Pega tell you?” ‘‘He said that he was killed in that chase, where I left you.” “« How ?” ‘Tirst, his horse was shot, and then he was,” «Yes ; Crooked Pegs told the truth for once I guess he'll be sick for it.” ‘‘Here, no personalities except on bust ness,” said Seth, turning his head around. ‘““Wagh! wagh! . Just look at them pegs 0 his. Did you park Somefield, that he allers ties ’em round his neck when he goes to sleep! Took me and Jim—took me a half day to ontie ’em once.” ‘« Shut up! Thunderation !” exclaimed Seth. Summerfield had taken little interest in this badinage and raillery, but had been reflecting upon the death of Wandaught. “Vie,” said he, ‘tell me the particulars if Jim’s death.” «Thar ain’t much particlers,” said he, throyr- ing aside his frivolity. ‘His hoss got hit a little while after you left, and then next thing he got hit, and saying good-bye, keeled over. He wanted me to lift his h’ar to save it frora the devils, but they’re comin’ so all-firedly, I hadn’t time. I hated to refuse Jim, ’caurs Jim war a good feller, but Thad to. He tun - bled around hard until they come up, whee thar’s some tall howlin’ and screamin’ over him. We had to work to git ourselves of" and kept up the run till night.” ‘‘ Despite himself, a tear crept to Summen- field’s eye at this rude narration of the death of one who had been his friend. ‘In his shor’ acquaintance, he had formeda strong friendship for Wandaught, who possessed better qualities of head and heart than are generally foun? among those of his elass. “Tt was a great loss to you,” remarked hw, thoughtfully. . “Yas ; great loss,” returned Vio, There was something in the tone in which this was uttered that startled Summerfield. Had he seen the expression upon the speaker's face, perhaps he would have been startled still more. But he did not, and continued : “eT regret his death more than it seemed I ever could. But, of course, there is no use of regretting it. He has been dead a long time, and I suppose both of you have come to regard it with feelings that time has softened. “Yas,” replied both, in that puzzling tone again. Summerfield looked up, but, as they were before him, he could not see the expres. sion upon their countenances. But at that in. stant looking beyond them, he observed » hunter at some Miata i 2, Who was approaci»
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The Fighting Trapper. 13 *’ Who is that?” he asked, as the man drew weir. ‘A feller what jined usa few days ago, re- yaraed Vic. “Isn’t that Wandaught?” he asked, exci- “*Spose he’s come to life, too!” said Seth, with a laugh. Summerfield watched the stranger as they usared each other, and was soon convinced that he had not been mistaken. It was Wan- daught. He said nothing, however, until they were together, when he stepped out with : **Lfow are you, Jim ?” The hunter hesitated a momént, but did not evince as much surprise as either Seth or Vic. He looked until he was sure of the person, and then returned the salutation. Summerfield ex- tended his hand, but it was not taken. “Why, what does that mean?” he asked. ‘Didn't you know I never shook paws in m: life? Ican’t doit. But, ole beaver, I can te you that Jim Wandaught is blasted glad to see ou.” At this point the questions commenced. Sum- merfield gave a short history of his principal experiences since they had parted, and learned from Wandaught that neither he nor his horse had been wounded in the chase mentioned. Vic, all this time, stood gazing very compla- cently upon them, giving vent now and then to a loud guffaw, and finally bursting into a full ‘augh. Seth had commenced whistling the “ Arkansas Traveller,” but found great diffi- culty in kesping his mouth in shape. Finally he gave up and joined Vic. They enjoyed the joke hugely. Satie Nearly half an hour was passed in laughing, explaining, and railing pleasantly at each other. At last affairs were adjusted, and they came to a sort of understanding. It was then deter- mined to return to the ‘‘ Hole,” or their lodg- ing place This was certainly a strange place. ter walking some two or three hundred yards, they reached a spot where the pebbles extended quite a distance from the stream, as though it once been the bed of some great basin. ‘* Now tread soft, and don’t stir the gravel,” asid Vic, leading the way. Wandaught fol- lowed next, walking as carefully, and then came Seth, who, after touching his feet, seem- ed to think it necessary to make a downward bend of his knee at each step, throwing up each arm at the same time. Going a few rods, an abrupt turn was mads, when Vic halted be- fore a hee flat stone. Both he and Wan- daught gazed cautiously around them a mo- ment, when the former stooped and lifted the stone, and disappeared beneath it. Wandaught and Seth did the same, and Summerfield sup- posed that it was intended for him to follow suit ; so, without hesitation, he raised it and sprang down some six or eight feet. .The stone closed after him, and he found himself in inky blackness. ‘‘ Where under the sun are we?” he asked, ping about. ai Down here,” was the enlightened reply. *-Tshould think—confound it!” he exclaim- ed as he pitched over somebody at, his feet. He arose, and was about to speak, when his mse came violently in collision with one of his ecmpanions. ‘*Come, don’t but me that way,” laughod Wandaught. “How do you expect I am going to get around here? I'll knock my brains out pretty soon,” said ‘Summerfield, feeling blindly around with his hands. Judging it best to nct move until he understood his precise situa- tion, he seated himself upon the earth and quietly waited for one of them to produce a ht. In afew minutes, Wandaught succeed- ed in getting some smoky substance lighted, which threw its oily rays upon the faces of the hunters. Summerfield gazed about, and saw a dingy and singular looking place. It was.an nc oatmeal some eight or nine feet wide, and ut a dozen feet in length, with an average height of eight or nine feet. Connected with this was another of about half its size. The whole was so regularly constructed as to show that, although Nature might haye assisted, she never had mace it. “‘ Well, if this doesn’t beat all,” said Sum- morfield, in‘ unfsigned astonishment. ‘Did you dig this out yourself, Vic ?” **No, sir. This war here fore you or I sced doylight.” and, being in a communicative Pond de seated himself upon a bundle of furs, rie: iN wees i ees CEE “About ten years ago, up at Fort Hall, a feller, called Stumpy Bill, got into a muss with a Seminole what blowed thunder through his carcass, and then left. There didn’t nobody appear to care nothin’ aboutit, and so I nussed him ; but, I see he'd have to gounder. The redskin’s lead had gone clean through him, Bill knowed he’d have to go, and the night afore, he called me to him and told me about this place. He said a feller had told him of it, what happened to find it by chance once, He said the redskins didn’t know nothing ’boutit, and as there war plenty bedver here, it was a mighty nice place, I’d been in this neighbor. hood once or twice, and hadn't much trouble tc find it. Ashe called it the ‘ Hole,’ I ’cluded te dothe same. Thatar war whyI wentalone fu the last nine or ten year. Two or three times I thought o’ takin’ some feller, but put it off, till these fellers joined me, when I brought ’em toit. LIhain’t changed it any, but left it the same as I found it,” “Is there not danger of your retreat being discovered ?” ‘‘Nary danger. I got chased by a lot of the devils onee, and ducked inter here orful quick, and, skin me, ef a couple of the all-fired fools didn’t squat themselves right square on the stone up thar and go to jabberin’.” “You see,” said Seth, who had seated him- self upon a quantity of furs, ‘‘ they don’t think of looking in the ground for a house, and—” ‘‘Just shut up that meat trap,” said Vic. ‘Rather a narrow escape,” suggested Sum- merfield. ‘ Not so narrow as I had once, for a red devil did git in here once while I’s tendin’ to my traps. I come back, and wa'nt thinkin’ o’ no- thin’, when, just as I lifted the stone, bang went somethin’ through my cap—see, thar’s the hole. Wal, you'd better believe I dropped that stone as quick as if ’twere hot T IL who's down thar? Some feller’s gone inter the wrong bed, and it’s time he’s gitten’ out. Coz why? This feller wants to gitin! Iknow’d as how thar wa’nt but one, for if thar war, I'd got all their lead. So I just slips up to the stone thar, and goes to groanin’ orful, makin’ b'lieve I's hit. Then I floundered ’bout like a sick grizzly, and then fotched a mighty long grunt, and scratched and kicked the stones ; then gets up soft, without makin’ no noise, cocks Polly, steps back and lays low, waiten for sarcum- stances to dewelop themselves. Putty soon I seed the stone move a little ; then it war still for an hour or so ; then his noddle jumped out and ducked in ‘fore I could draw trigger. Ina little while I seed the stone move agin, and his noddle come out mighty slow, lookin’ just like atappin’ snorkle. He didn’t see me, and kept slidin’ out. Just then I blazes away, and the gravel-stones flew. Iran up and found him gone under, the stone war on his back, an’ his legs hangin’ down in the Hole. I lifted his h’ar, and pitched him into the creek. That's it hangin’ up thar.” Summerfield arose, and, with curiosity, un- twisted some long black hair from the tooth of « beaver, that was driven into the flinty earth. Tt was covered with dust, the hair was stiff and wiry, and as he took it down the dried skin at- tached to it rattled like coarse paper. As it was now late in the afternoon, Vic re- marked that he would pass out and see to the traps. Accordingly he ascended and disap- peared, and Summerfield proceeded to examine more closely the curious apartment in which he found himself. He turned to speak to Wan- daught, but saw that he was stretched out and sound asleep, while Seth was in the other apart- ment with another light. » The examination showed him but little that he had not already observed. The walls were hard and gravelly, and there was little danger of their crumbling or falling in, In one cor- ner was a large pile of beaver skins, while sey- eral others were extended upon the ground, forming rude but warm and comfortable mat- tresses. Summerfield f aexat into the other apart- ment where Seth was preparing the evening meal, “Do you cook here?” he asked, gazing at some ashes in one corner. , ‘‘ Oertainly—where would we?” “Where does the smoke go ?” ««There’s a hole up there, under a stone, that lets it all out.” ‘But ain’t there danger of the smoke being geen ?” ‘We never have a fire except on dark nights. » g “Well, I must say this is the most fabulous place I ever stumbled upon.” Pa "Tis funny. Made me open my eyes at 1 Sa ¥ In a short time Vic returned, when Wan- daught was awakened, and they sat down to their meal. Not one forgot what had been the custom of Summerfield on such occasions, and with respectful solemnity, the three bowed their heads while he invoked God’s blessing upon the humble food before them. It was certainly a pleasing sight to see these bronzed and hardened trappers thus showing their re gard for the sain truths of which they knew so little. The meal-consisted simply of the tail of the beaver; - This really, when properly cooked, is a delicious article of food, and much superior to many dishes in vogue in civilized society. At times it is the principal food of the trap. per. The meal was enlivened by jokes and re- marks, and after its close a long time was spent in conversation and story-telling. Sum- merfield again gave his own adventures, not omitting any particulars except that which re- ferred to'Viola. Vic related several episodes of his life, with which neither Wane daught nor Seth was familiar; and Wan- daught, in turn, recounted some exciting ad- ventures which we will not transcribe at this point. At a late hour they all lay down, and all were soon wrapped in repose. — OHAPTER XL IN TROUBLE AND OUT OF I, Tue morning after Summerfield’s arrival, one of the cold spells so common in that re gioncommenced. ‘There was a constant fall of rain, and it required their utmost endeavors to prevent it entering the ‘Hole.” The Platte—for they were upon it—was swelled to arushing, thundering torrent, which rose above its banks in a few moments, and carried every trap away. ‘This, in itself, was not much of a loss, as they had more, and could easily oon« struct as many as were needed. The storm showed them that the spring had now set in, and the trapping season was over. All agreed that, as soon as the rain abated, they would leave their quarters and start for the States, About a quarter of a mile up the stream their horses were picketed, and visited by Seth each day. At the head waters of a creek, about fifty miles from the Platte, was the war-ground of the Snakes, Cheyennes, Crows, and several other tribes, and our friends were liable at any moment to receive a visit from them ; so that, as may be supposed, their situ- ation was not the safest one in the world. One cold, drizzly afternoon, Seth, with the consent of the rest, built a fire for the purpose of cooking ameal. It was the worst time that could have been chosen, as the smoke ascend- ed very slowly through the orifice, and could be distinctly seen by any ore who chanced to be in the neighborhood. In fact, the smoke filled both apartments, so as to nearly suffocate Sunimerfield, and he besought them to extin- guish it ; but, as it did not disturb the others, they only laughed at his dilemma. ‘The three, however, resolved to have a whiff of air and passed out, taking their way toward the stream. Vic evidently did not feel at his ease about the smoke and kept his eyesabouthim. They had hardly reached the stream when they were startled by hearing the firing of guns and the yells of Indians! “They've got Seth!” exclaimed Vic, dart- ing away. «The devil!” exclaimed Wandanght, follow- ry Se sprang after them, and in a mo- ment discerned several dusky forms leapi and firing into the openin na Which had emerged. A second after, Vannoven Wandaught discharged their pieces, yells of defiance, sprang in among them. There was a sudden clinching, and amid the writh- ings of several shadowy forms, a bright ai of flame would burst, and now and than a would gleam on high, as the combatauts closed in their deathly struggles. Summerfield, a first bewildered, soon gained an idea of the state of things, and rushed forward. When he reached them, he saw several forms dart away, and not an Indian remained. the confusion. Seth had appeared. not
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= wi the Teast. It seemed that the savages had ealculated upon discovering all within the **Hole,” and had commenced an indiscrimi- nate firing into it. Foriunately, Seth wasin the farther apartment, and was untouched. Sin- ey enough, not a person had been slain. There had been some sharp blows and cuts interchanged, but none of a fatal character. The Indians numbered not over half-a-dozen, and were easily repulsed. “T calculate these quarters are getting rather hot,” remarked Seth, after they had descended ard attended to their wounds. **Yos; I should think a visit from half-a- dozen Indians was a gentle hint that our re- éreat was disputed,” added Summerfield. *QOuss it!” growled Vic. ‘‘They’ve found ut this place, and they'll burn us out ef we don’t leave blasted soon. I spose trappin’ here’s done with.” “Yes; we've got to move traps—that’s a pinted fact,” added Wandaught. “‘Wal, boys, what’s the word?” asked Seth. **T’'m deuced sorry we’re found out, but there’s no use of growling. We can’t help ourselves, and the question is, when you're going to leave ?” ‘* We've got to go to-night. There'll be ten thousand devils down here by daylight, and we'll lose all the skins we’ve cotched in ten ’ minutes.” *“*Shouldn’t wonder if we did lose our skins,” returned Seth. “We've got to leave to-night, Seth. You'd better go up stream and fotch down the hosses, and we'll pack the skins.” Seth quickly departed for the animals. Van- noven and Wandaught bound the furs into two large bundles, which were so closely ressed that they seemed as solid as wood. In about half an hour Seth returned, riding apon a horse, and followed by five others. ‘Two of these were pack-horses, while the other Bpare one had been reserved in case of acci- dent-or necessity. It thus came most oppor- tunely to Summerfield. 'The furs were brought put and strapped upon the two animals of bur- den. Then Vic carefully deposited the stone in its former position, remarking : “T spose I'll never go down there agin, but i hope most blastedly the devils won’t find you, and I ken snooze in theré yet.” They all now mounted their animals, Vic taking the lead. The darkness upon the moun- tains was intense, and their progress was ne-« eessarily slow over the broken fragments of rocks and down the wild declivities of the mountain. A fierce equinoctial storm com- menced, and raged furiously through the night. It was the grand combination of rain, thunder, and lightning, that ushered inthe spring. Peal after peal burst like the sharp crack of a piece of ozdnance, and now and then the white- tongued lightning darted like an arrowy ser- pent through the forest branches. Once or twice the lurid bolts shivered the trees to splinters above, and there appeared a continual play of fire.around the mountain top. The supercharged earth would often return its fiery element to “the clouds, and then receive it back again, as though heaven and earth were mutually sporting with the most subtile and terrific power they possessed. The scene was indescribably grand. But all this was favorable to the fugitives, and they plodded along unmurmuringly—all save Seth, who swore alternately, in his quaint style, first at his horse, then at the elements, then at his companions, who would not hear his complaints, nor appreciate hisjokes. The weary night wore on, and the storm began to abate. The booming of the thunder died away into sullen roars, and then, at length, ceased to vex the stillness of the hills. The a had penetrated far into the mountains. © heavy storm must have washed away every evidence of their trail. A feeling of comparative security prevailed. Suddenly Wic—who all the while had kept the lead— came to a halt, ordering the others to do the game, and to dismount. This order somewhat mystified the party, when he curtly added : “‘We're goin’ to spend the rest of this night here. Stay where you are until I do for the horses.” With this he started off, leading Porcupine, and all the other animals follow- ing Fn After a brief absence he returned. *“*Now, boys,” said he, “stick fast to me.” And, kneeling on the earth, he commenced erawling carefully forward, followed by his companions, who soor saw by the inky black- The Fighting Trapper. were passing, that they were in some sort ofa cave. After going twenty or thirty feet, Vio halted and struck a light, and in ten minutes more had a cheerful fire burning, ‘**Boys,” said he, as he noticed the wonder on Summerfield’s face (Wandaught was never known to exhibit it), ‘‘ this is another of Vic’s ‘holes.’ Cac’late we can stay here avchile.” This was agreeable news. The men all en- joyed the fire, until, at last, overcome by fatigue, they fell asleep. Summerfield was awakened by the coldness, which his dampened clothes gave him. the rest were.up and busy. Seth was prepa- ring the meal; Vic had gone out to see the animals and to bring in the furs. This was soon done, and the meal eaten. Vic told how he had discovered this cave while hunting one day, and knew of several others, equally good and convenient, to which he could resort in caso that retreat was discovered by savages. ‘*You fellers,” said he, ‘‘I want to stay here, while I go out huntin’, We must git some bufiler meat.” i So suying, he shouldered his rifle and started out upon the most eventful hunt that he was destined to ever engage in. He little dreamed of the game in store for him. ee CHAPTER XI VIOLA. Lona and hopefully Viola waited, until it seemed waiting and hoping against hope. The old chief promised that, when it was possible, he should send her with a suitable escort to Fort Leavenworth, where she should be given up to the whites without a ransom. It seemed hard for the old chief to give up the white maiden. He experienced a genuine affection, and she had grown to be as a child of his own; yet he was not selfish, and resolved that his promise should be fulfilled, The power of his white rival had become nearly as great as his own, and it was a matter of difficulty for him to choose from his warriors two in whom he might place implicit faith. Viola was re- garded by more than Redzel with envy. Many savages, indeed, had determined that, before another of their number should obtain posses- sion of her, she should be tomahawked. Yet this was a secret feeling, and never evinced it- self openly. Redzel did not dream that eyes other than his own regarded her with passion, and believed that his only obstacle was with the object itself. He had fully made up his mind that, could he not gain possession of her by gentle means, he would by threats and force. But, swiftly and unconsciously, the summer fled, and almost before Viola was aware, winter was upon her. In answer to her inquiry, the chief assured her that it would be madness for her to attempt to reach ort Leay- enworth before the spring opened. ‘The truth of this she was compelled to admit, although it seemed inviting misery and death to remain. She determined to spend the winter almost en- tirely within the lodge, and, as soon as the ering commenced, compel Mascanagh to ful- fil his promise. The winter was mild, and assed by without suffering among the tribe. uuffalo were numerous, and the village always was well supplied. It was at the close of one of the dreary days of early spring. Viola had spent most of the day in sitting within the lodge, and listening to the blustering weather without. The rain fa been falling for nearly a week, and now rattled against the lodge with a mournful monotony. Often the fierce gusts would sweep madly against it, shaking it to the very foundation. Mascanagh was busy in constructing and try- ing a bow, while his squaw was preparing the evening meal. The two children were playing around their father, while Viola was seated in @ corner, gazing listlesslyat them. She follow- ed their motions mechanically, but her thoughts were far away. She was indulging in a sort of day-dream, permitting her mind to wander whither it pleased. Often she would find her- self surmising of Summerfield. Was he liy- ing? Was he a prisoner or free? Was he in the States, and, if so, did his thoughts ever wander out upon the prairie! ‘The thought thrilled Viola, and she dismissed it. Although memory gave her pleasure, doubt would interpose and drive itaway. Yet often, indeed, she nurtured the thought, and many a long and dreary hour it had been her only com- wesa, and dry, hard rock, over which they : anion. SSS It was a long time since she had seen Rede eer felt no ing titan She believ- ed he given over all hopes of is i her. On several occasions he had recei dark and meaning looks from the warriors, yet, in her innocence she suspected nothing ; ut she knew that more than one squaw rer garded her with a perfectly furious hate, and her womanly /nstincts taught har to avoid them. Then, as usual, her thoughts finally settled upon her father, and her probable chances of pucaping tohim. Five years had passed since she had seen him, and her heart sickened as she reflected upon the time that must neces- sarily elapse before she could hope again to meet him. She knew not whether he was in Oregon, or had returned to his native home, He might be a prisoner for aught she knew, or, what was as proeeeles he might have been slain long since by the implacable enemies of the white, > Thus musing, night came on, and she re- tired to her couch of/furs to sleep the sleep of innocence, and to dream the dreams of the hopeful dependant on God’s providence. Sleep floated over her with its drowsy wings, and the night deepened. Suddenly she awakened, alarmed and fully conscious. She had net been dreaming, and could not divine the cause, Jt seemed as though some soft, but icy hand, had glided over her face and recalled her to consciousness, The room was without aray of light. At first she had determined to rise and secure a light, but she then concluded that there were no grounds for fear. and again abandoned herself to sleep, i When nearly asleep, and exceedingly ner- vous, her ear caught the noise of a footstep! A fearful suspicion flashed upon her. She felt certain that Redzel was in her room! ‘The very thought sickened her and brought the cold Grops to her brow. She moved uneasily to prevent his approach, and concentrated her burning thoughts upon the course left for hex to pursue, It seemed that the fevered leap- ing of her heart would betray her suspicion, and, pressing her hand to her bosom, she in- voked the aid of Heaven in this extremity. At first she determined to scream, but she thought the consequences of this would be in- stantly fatal. Then she reflected that, as the door was within her reach, to silently open it and steal out. Rising to the sitting position, she reached her hand upward and gave a gen- tle push. ‘The rough board door opened out- ward and was never fastened, but it yielded not. She tried again, and with the same re sult. Finally, placing both hands upon it, she exerted her full strength and found it had been secured. It required her utmost powers to keep herself from swooning: when she learn- ed this ; but, with a frightful calmness, she sank back again and listened. In a moment she knew the footsteps were ermine! She did not move or speak, but waited. C) could hear his hurried, husky breath, us his foot touched her garment. There was then an awful pause, broken only by the fevered breath of both. Viola tried to move, but it seemed some horrible nightmare palsied her. Suddenly she felt a rough hand placed upon her face, and passing over her features, “shen again it was withdrawn, and there was anvtaer terrible moment, and, as she again hearda movement, her strength returned. She drew a long breath as though awakening, and mov- ing slightly, heard a muttered curse and re- treating footsteps. Sho felt sho was saved for afew moments. Ina few seconds she found that there was but one course left, and that was to alarm Mascanagh. She believed that the instant Redzel knew his presence was known to her, he would rush forward and kill her. In the darkness there was a chance to escape. This she determined upon, Drawing her breath, she uttered the agonized words : i “Help! help! murder! murder!” and in stantly darted from her couch. «‘ By ——! there’s no help for yer!” mut tered Redzel, springing forward and burying his knife in the spot where he sin eho she lay, then leaping like a panther ugh the entrance and out of the lodge. Im an instant Mascanagh was in the room, and demanded : ‘What's the matter? What's the matter?” Viola endeavored to answer, but the terrifie strain upon her nerves caused her to sink inte a deathly swoon. When she recovered, the chief and his squaw were bending i over her. In answer to their inquiries, she pointed silently to the door. In trath, they
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Fs es ah a 5 ie ee Lh, ‘the answering 0: ‘had suspected'the true facts of'the occurrence, and only asked whether she had been harmed. Their swarthy features brightened up with genuine pleasure as she assured them she was uninjured ; but the murderous rent in the soft for showed how narrowly she had escaped. No one doubted who the assassin was. Viola had heard his voice, and was assured, “«O Mascanagh!” exclaimed Viola, clasping bis knees, ‘you want to kill Viola. You prom- ised to send her to her home, and you keep ber to be murdered! She will soon die!” The old chief was visibly affected. He un- slasped her hands gently, and replied : ‘*Mascanagh does what he says he will. The white maidenshall be sent to her friends.” +‘ But when, when?” eagerly demanded Vi- + When she wishes to go.” “« Will you, Mascanagh? Will you?” The chief bowed his head. “Let me go this night, then. Yes, this very hear!” ‘* But the storm rages, and the maiden will be lost in the dark forest.” “*T care not for the storm,” exclaimed she, frantically. ‘*O God! I have suffered death ‘once. Let me get away from him!” Her fears and those of Mascanagh seemed to point at that night as the moment of escape, since Redzel would be sure to keep within This cabin to relieve himself of suspicion. The chief gadsed out, and was gone a full hour, much to the alarm of his squaw and of Viola, who both feared that he had gone to seek the white man. But his return solved all doubts, and made a atirin the lodge. Viola was to fly that very night, Two trusty warriors, with three fleet norses, were secured, and even then pwaited zhe maiden’s coming to begin their Journey to the East. She was carefully clad in a warm dress of soft leather. A fine blanket was thrown over her shoulders. On her feet the squaw placed a pair of exquisitely worked moccasins. Her limbs were incased in leggings of fawn akin, ornamented with beads and porcupine quills. On her head was a cap of the same beautifu’ materials. Thus equipped, she looked like a very forest queen—as beautiful as a aymph, and as imposing as a prophetess. It now only remained to say ‘‘ good-by!” It was a painful leave-taking. : “God bless you, Mascanagh; good-by,” sobbed Viola, pressing his hand and averting » “her face. “‘Good-by to the pale-faced maiden. Mas- canayh will see her again in the great Hunting Ground. The (reat Spirit will let her enter there. No other pale-face shall see it. Good- >) aye And yet Mascanagh wasaman, Within that savage bosom throbbed a heart of humanity. fle who had never qnailed in the hour of bat- fle—he who had seen the mangled remains of more than one brother without shedding a gor—he who had closud the eyes of a dying rhild and wept not—bowed his head and wept. Yet it was but fora moment. As if ashamed of his weakness, he raised his head and stood roudly firm, to await her motions. Viola then teas farewell to her mistress. They faltered a few words, and embracing each other, sobbed fike children. The two boys, for fear of con- sequences, had been sent away and were now asleep. Viola, taking a light, entered their room. They lay with their arms clasped around each other's neck, locked in dreamless slumber. Viola stooped and kissed each dusky cheek, and dropping a silent tear in their faces, departed. wu I “Good-by again!” said she, smiling faintly, as Mascanagh, taking her hand, led her out into the darkness, where she was given into the keeping of the guides. The chief touched 1.is lips reverently to her forehead, pressed her hand to his heart with a fervor quite unusual for ared-man unused to emotionsof tender- ness, and saying, almost ina whisper, ‘‘The Great Spirit hover over thee like a good bird!” left her. ‘The rain was still falling, and the darkness “was thick and impenetrable. Viola clung to the arm of one of her guides, who conducted her safely forward, and in a few moments she ‘heard tha faint whinny and stamp of a horse. he was assisted upon the back of this, and handed the rein. The savages then mounted theirs and started forward. Viola’s animal needed no gnidance, as he followed the others as elosely as \ AB my savages moved forward, they heard eigh of a horse near them, and The Fighting Trappcr- spoke to each other of it. But as the darkness was So heavy that they could barely distinguish the heads of their own animals, of course they detected nothing. Several times after, they heard it, and once or twice there were other steps than Viola’s animal behind them. This awakened their suspicions, and finally led to the belief that some one was following them. They could not divine how their intentions had been discovered, but were convinced that it must be the white man behind them. ‘This occasioned considerable fear; for, although the savages were considered as among the best warriors of the tribe, yet Redzel held an un- bounded influence over them. They had often, with the others, bent to his will, and although numbering two, they yet feared him. Through that long, stormy night, the party kept slowly and silently forward. The instinct of the horses was their only guide as they moved through the gloomy shadows of the mighty forest. Viola could never catch the forms of her guides, and could only hear the hum of their voices or the dull tramp of their animals. Once or twice they spoke to her, but as she feltin no communicative mood, she did not endeavor to continue the conversation. She was securely and comfortably clothed, and the chilling storm had no effect upon her other than that of gloominess. ; At last the rain ceased, and a dull, leaden gray in the east proclaimed that the day was at hand. Ina dias time, the travellers could discern each other's forms, and in about an hour the savages came toa halt and dismount- ed for the purpose of resting their animals. One of them patted the steaming sides of his own and approached Viola’s. Ashe did so, he started back with an exclamation of surprise. His companion arose at this, and the two ex- amined the animal more minutely. A few minutes sufficed to show them that a miserable horse had been substituted for the one they had taken. They were too cunning to suppose this the result of chance. They knew that the horse had been substituted by some cun- ning hand at the moment’ when they had gone to the Iodge for the maiden. This, taken with the footsteps they had heard during the night, convinced them very nearly of the true state of things. To satisfy themselves, one of them took the back track for a considerable distance, but detected nothing suspicious. However, for all this, neither doubted but what they were pursued. After considerable difficulty, a fire was started, and a piece of meat cooked. Viola partook sparingly, and, as she began to enter- tain a suspicion of danger, from the actions of the Indians, urged them to pursue their journey. She saw that her own horse was inferior to the others, and felt some alarm at it, but believed that they would not be overtaken should they keep moving steadily forward. Their course was in nearly an eastern direc- tion, inclining slightly to the south, and would necessarily lead them through the wild regions of that spur of the Rocky Mountains, called tie Black Hills. The village was at no great distance west, and early in the day Viola saw the blue heads of the cliffs in the sky, and in some places the white snow-covered caps far up in the heavens. Lower down, the moun- tain presented a grand, rugged appearance as they approached it. Great, ponderous masses of rocks came out to view, with their outlines sharply defiled, and terrific rents and yawns ‘could be discerned in the sides of the moun- tain, while cedars and trees, centuries in gro the sides, It was nearly evening when they reached the base, where it was concluded to camp for the night. There was some danger of molestation from wandering hordes of savages, but the two guides exercised the utmost caution, and it would have indeed been difficult for a person to come upon them unawares. They had cho- sen a well-protected spot, and their horses were picketed near at hand, so that they might be reached in case of danger. During the preparation of the evening meal, one of the In- dians remained at a short distance as sentinel, and with characteristic caution, one kept guard during the night. The two arranged a pleas- ant couch with their blankets, and upon it Vi- ola slept sweetly and peacefully till morning. When she awoke it was broad day, and their morning meal was waiting. The storm had abated, and the genial sun was shini ines, and old forest towered high upon shining down | not im upon them, while the melody of hundreds of | warb°T around told that the gloomy reign of winter Wan Over. They had jst commenced eating, when some noise was hem. The savages sprang te their feet and seized their rifles. “ One started out to discover the cause, when the burly form of Redzel appeared directly upon them. Nei- ther party spoke for a moment, while Viola was speechless wlth amazement and terror. Red- zel seemed to enjoy the consternation his ap- pearance had caused, and after surveying them pao moment, exclaimed with a laugh and oath : «Wal, I guess you didn’t expect to see this — these parts, did ere ‘‘U did not,” returned Viola, white and trem- bling with indignation ; “and nobody wished to see you, I can assure you.” ' ‘Wal, now, you don’t say, my beauty ; but ole Sam wanted to see yer.” ‘“Why does the white man follow the maid- en?” asked one of the Indians, ‘ “To catch her ole copperskin, and I'll be cussed if he don’t git her too.” : ‘Get who?” demanded Viola, quivering with rage. “Why, my little Vily,” said he, with a horrid grin that disfigured his repulsive face. Then he approached and endeavored to pat her cheek familiarly, but she sprang to her feot as though stung by a serpent. ‘Don’t touch me, foul monster!” she ex claimed, springing back. ‘*Whew!” he whistled, raising his hands, ‘that’s purty. That makes you look fine.” — There was, indeed, a wild beauty in her ap- pearance as she stood with flashing éyes and scornful lip gazing upon him. Her slight form was proudly erect, and its faultless gin. was brqught out in every motion. She stood a few feet fro6m Redzel, resting on one foot, while on her blanched face there was a calm- — ness and determination that were frightful. Her shawl was at her feet, and her wondrous beauty rin pee awed the guilty hunter for # moment. It was vice and virtue brought face vw Tace. Wes down, Vily. Set down! 1 won’t art | yer!” But she moved not until he had retreated several steps, when she again seated herself. All this time the two savages remained mute © spectators to the scene, each afraid to interfere. It was plain that what violence Redzel might ehomr would not meet with opposition from em. ‘Why don’t you kill that villain?” demand» ed Violaofthem. ‘He is not fit to live,” _ Her words seemed to arouse them somewhat, but they made no answer, and only gazed up "Kl him, T say! Hall him!” she added, ty tn, Tsay il him!” sho ee. ‘Say, gal,” interposed Redzel, ‘yer mou; as well shet up, pe them ole Pees daren’t do nothing, and you've got to talk with me.” “Talk with you,” repeated she, sco: ii and gazing contemptuously at him. «“'T with you. May Heaven forgive me for ever being guilty of it.” ; dunia it hai he ve fur yer to think erently,” replie dzel, with a meaning shake of hi head. ‘“What a villain!” muttered Viola to her self, yet loud enough for him to hear. _ ‘* Won't you let me set thar too?” asked he, rising and approaching. As quick as lightning she again darted away, and he fell back again, ‘* Wal,” said he, confidently, ‘‘yer can be as cantankerous as yer please now, but you've got to come to it sooner nor yer think, Jest re member that.” ; “God grant that life may leave mo before that time comes.” “Yer needn't call on God. Ho don't care nothin’ "bout yer, and ef he did, I reckon he te ee ve hiuder me.” ; iola gazed as if she expected a thunder! to strike him for this Biase hecie aie: «Foul wretch,” said she, ‘ that sin must be answered for.” ““Wagh! wagh! wagh !” laughed he, “don't talk to me "bout sin; don’t know what ’tis 5 guess I never done it.” Viola was about ta speak, but he added : me *Vily, yer mought as well give up th capers. "T'aintno use, Yer in my hands, Pa ‘ee - wm ¢
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16 But something checked her, and she deemed it best to conceal her knowledge of that occur- rence, so far as it related to himself. Redzel’s thick lip curled with a contemptu- ous grin, and he contented himself for a few moments in glaring like a wild beast at her. Then, suddenly rising, he exclaimed, in a commanding tone, accompanied by a furious gesticulatior., -*Say, copperskins, you just make tracks for hum. Yer ain’t wanted here. Tell yer boss that Sam Redzel tuk care of this gal.” Viola heard this command with indignant scorn. She did not dream that the savages would heed it, and they did not move, in fact. ‘“*T would tell them agaiu,” said she, sarcas- ically. “Say, chaps, if yer ain’t gone in two seconds, Tl shoot you both,” repeated he, growing ghastly with rage. The two Indians arose without a word, mounted and rode away! This movement, so A ay and unexpected, completely paralyzed Viola, She could hardly credit her senses. It seemed impossible tha/ she was alone and in the power of Redzel. But, the two cowardly wretches were gone, and he was gleaming upon her with a de moniac smile of satisfaction. The time for scorn and indifference had d. Entreaty was the only resource left. 6 was now in Redzel’s power, indeed. “What will you have with me now?” she ed. “*Wagh! why don’t you flare up as you done just now? Why don’t you call me all kinds of names? Wagh! wagh!” “Oh, why am I thus persecuted?” she ex- claimed, burying her face, and sobbing aloud. «* What have I done, that I should ke followed like a beast of prey?” «No uso, 3 you can’t come that game, Yer oughter 044 it afare,” ‘ «Have I ever harmed you?” asked she, lock- ing 2 ** Not as I knows on.” “Why do you seek to harm me, then?” “T don't.” *« My life was sought,” she continued, ‘and I have tried to escape the danger that threat, ened me, and would you take me back there again id “No; I ain’t particular whar I takes yer. Yer can go home for all I cares, but, yer see, Tm a with yer.” ** Will you then permit me to go on?” she asked, eagerly. “Didn't I say so!” “Qh, thank you! thank you! Let us start, then.” “Wagh! changed your tune a little! Thought you would after a while.” Viola pretended to not hear this insult, and approached her horse to mount. Redzel step- forward, but she was too quick, and leaped ’ on his back in on instant. ‘¢ Now we'll soon reach Fort Leavenworth,” gaid she, pleasantly, with a’forced smile. The hunter muttered something unintelligible to her as he mountéd his beast and set forward. Viola noticed the direction taken, and saw. that he was really proceeding on his way to- ward her destination. As she gazed buck and saw, in the distance, the two savages gallop- ee oly along, she felt an almost irresist- impulse to turn and urge her horse toward them. But she saw that such a thing would be madness, as her animal was much inferior to Redzel’s, and she could not hope to es- cape him. Suddenly, a strange idea struck “T think you might exchange horses with me,” said she, pleasantly. ‘I’m heartily tired of riding this miserable beast.” \«Is yer hoss "bout tuckered out?” he asked. ,“*Just look and see whether he isn’t,” was her meaning answer. . “Wal, mine isn’t,” said Redzel, riding up beside her, ‘find so I'll just take yer up on mine, and we'll go faster.” «Oh, no! don’t! I am sure mine can carry me. I would not load yours more.” “ Yer needn’t be afraid of that. Yer don’t weigh ’nough to make him feel it,” «Please don’t,” pleaded Viola, as she read his determination in his eyes. «Oh, yas!” he replied, not heeding her suyp- cation. “Don’t! pon’r! pon’r! I pray of you.” But he reached out and placed bis rough arm around her and endeavored to lift her from her seat. His touch seemed to fill Viola witb fire, and in her struggles she struck him The Fighting Trapper. full in the face. Her screams frightened the horses and separated them for a moment, causing Redzel to loose his hold. But, givi vent to a horrid sath, he jerked his horse’s hea around, and, mad with the pain Viola had giver him, he reached out and struck her! The blow was rot severe, but it sent a twinge of pain through her ; and, as he again placed his arm around her, she uttered a wild, unearthly scream, that echoed far up the mountain side. But, instead of checking Redzel, it only spur- red him on. He swore that her resistance should avail nothing, and concentrating his strength, he was just lifting her to his horse, when he was startled by a commanding voice : “Hello, there! Thunder and blastnation, drop that gal mighty quick.” Redzel did drop her as though a bullet had struck him, and gazing quickly around, he saw, not twenty feet distant, Vic Vannoven and Seth Potter, gazing athim, A bolt from Heaven could not have amazed him more. The latter stood with one foot advanced, his rifle cocked, and a rigid determination stamp- ed upon his countenance, His conical hat was thrown back upon his head, and his closed teeth showed that he was in no trifling mood. Vic stood in as threatening an attitude, with the muzzle of his rifle pointed toward Redzel, and his finger upon the trigger. Seth had re- peated the command, and Vic added : “Come here, little one, that cuss shan’t hurt yer.” CHAPTER XIIL FACE TO FACE AGAIN, For some minutes, the parties gazed at each other in silence. It took Redzel some time to realize that his two enemies were before him, and that his intended prey had escaped him. Viola was first to break the silence, “Save me! Oh, save mo!” she exclaimed, rushing toward Vannoven. ** You shan’t be hurt, my little’un,” said he, gently pushing her behind him, and still keep- ing his eye steadily upon Redzel. The latter, when he saw this movement, gave utterance to an oath, and forced his animal forward, in- tending to pass by the hunter and seize her ; but Seth caught the horse by the bit and threw him back upon his haunches, nearly dis- lodging Redzel in the act. ‘“‘Sam Redzel, you're cotched,” said Vic, calmly. ‘If you touch that creetur, Pll blow your ugly carcass to—” ‘‘T'll have her, or my name ain’t Redzel,” he exclaimed fairly livid with rage. ‘‘ T calculate as how there'll be somebody else to say something about that,” replied Seth ner- vously fingering the hammer of his rifle. He trembled with some emotion, but not with fear, “¢Wagh! that you, Crooked Pegs?” . “It’s pretty sartin it’s the chap that gave you a fine dressing once.” Redzel turned to Vic. «See here, Vic,” said he, lowering his tone, *‘you’n I never had no trouble, not at all; but that gappin’ fool has got to _squar’ ‘counts with me some time ; but, Vic, I don’t think it best fur you and me to git into a squabble,” ‘Do yer ’spose I'm afeard on yer?” asked Vic, contemptuously. “Mebbe not; but then ’taint best; there’s more nor me.’”* “<T know what you mean. You've jined the red-skins, and want us to know you've got ’em to yer back.” “That's the talk, 'zactly.” «And do you ’spose, Sam, you're goin’ to come that game over us? Ef you gets this creetur, it'll be arter me and this chap are out the way. She’s goin’ back with us. I don’t care about puttin’ a piece o’ lead through yer, but it wont take many more yer tricks to make me do it,” “It wouldn't go hard for me to draw bead on him,” said Seth, stepping about as though his rifle burned his hands. «Vic, are you in airnest? Does yer mean sure what yer says?” said Redzel, in a subdued tone. «Just 'speriment a little, and see whether I doesn't.” “Vie, if yer don’t let me have that gal, I'l burn you and that fool in less nor @ week.” « And, ef you touch ‘that gal,’ Pll shoot yer in less nor a minute.” , “Tl bring a thcusand Crows down here, and we'll foller yer to the Missipp, ef we don’t -cotch yer before, and Iswar you'll both burn” **Sam Redzel,” said Vannoven, with start- ling calmness, ‘* we’ve talked long poe an ef you say much more you wont get the chance. it won't take much for me to bring you off that hoss a little quicker than you'd like.” Redzel knew enough of the hunter’s nature to comprehend that this was no idle threat, Yet he still believed he could awe him inte fear by threats, and a declaration of his inten- tions in case he persisted in protecting Viola. «IT jes wanted yer to know what I'll do, that all, You won't be the furst whites I’ve led the copperskins aginst.” *¢ Vic,” said Seth, raising his rifle excitedly, ‘* ef you'll say the word, I'll stop that talk thun- dering soon |” “No, let the cuss go. Sam,” said he, turn- ing, ‘‘Ijes want’ yer to understand what Ill do ef you say much more, You've got an ac- count to settle with me, and after yer done with this chap, I'll settleit. Efyer wants to get off, you'd better be movin’.” “‘T'll go, but—” a meaning shake of the head told the rest, Vannoven surveyed him as he turned, and, as an idea struck him, he called out: «Hold on a minute,” Redzel checked his horse and’ whveled him around. He expected that Vic had changed his mind, and intended to give him Viola. But he was somewhat ay ir to see both him and Seth stastding with their rifles pointed toward him. “Tl give yer two seconds,” said the former, to get off that hoss and make tracks. Ef you ain’t off then, you'll be helped off.” Redzel comprehended this command, and, without eudeogering. his life by testing ite earnestness, he slid offand walked silently away. «« That'll be this little one’s,” said Vic, ** but don’t touch him till Sam’s out of sight, Keep yer peeper peeled, or he'll turn and pick you Off.” Redzel walked slowly a short distance, then suddenly turned, bringing his rifle to his sboul- der, expecting to find them unprepared ; but this motion of his had been anticipated, andhe knew better than to fire. He reluctantly low- ered his piece and increased his gait. Vic and Seth watched him,until he was barely visible upon the prairie. The latter then approached his animal, which had hardly stirred since he had been left. As Seth took his bridle, he gazed. again toward Redzel. He saw that he was standing and watching his motions. He saw his arms move, then a red tongue of firo flash- ed apparently from his face, a blue jet of smoke curled slowly upward, and in an in- stant the faint report of his rifle was heard. It. was a foolish venture, however, for the dis- tance was great, and the bullet sped wide of its mark, Seth, at this point, led the animal to her. The one which she had ridden was allowed to wander off, as he was not needed. Seth wag impressed and affected by the beauty before his eyes, and seemed extremely anxious to make an impression in turn, Lifting his hat, and making a very humble bow, he said: **Miss—I don’t know yer name—allow me —allow me to be so condescending as to assist you to get on—to mount this solidungulous quadruped.” ‘sBeavers! who’d a thort yer could talk Dutch?” exclaimed Vic, ovening his eyes with wonder, ‘«‘Mr. Vannoyen, that ere’s the language of cultivated society,” returned Seth, scornfully, and with an air of extreme condescension. ‘‘ He’s a little green—kinder soft,” said Vio, to Viola, who had mounted, and was wuiti their movements with a pleasant smile. turned, and seeing her, said: “So, you've ascended. I guess we'll go con, then, toward our far distant destination.” ‘*May I ask where that is?” queried she. ‘“‘Not fur,” returned Vic. ‘ We've a couple more chaps a ways off.” ‘But, I mean, are you on your way to the States?” *¢ Yes ; we're on our way thar.” “Thank Heaven again! Then I shall see home, after all.” Vic now started forward, followed by Vivla’s animal, while Seth walked byits side. It was necessary to proceed with erent caution, as the way was difficult, while the mountains con-. tained enemies, both animaland human. Seth, conceiving thet ¢ c.pital opportunity was now given to make ar {mpression, availed bimset | rf x 4
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ae of it, and grow a, loquacious, expa- tisting upon everything that came into his liad. Several times he asked Viola for her history, but did not give her a chance to speak a dozen words before he interrupted, and rat- tled away again : **You see, Mtss I-don't-know-your-name, this is a wonderful country in these particular, hecessitous parts, There isn’t an inch but whatI've den and examined. Mr, Vannoven thar, ahead, I brought out here when he’s a boy, and teached him how to overcome, sud- due, and conquer the aboriginals of this coun- try. We are on our journey to reach and con- yerse with two other personages, whom both of each I teached also, likewise. One fellow— MBAIEU SRY ore a fine one, and you will ad- mire an appreciate ; but the other are fool- ish, exceedingly, indeed.” He was becoming jealous, ‘‘He thinks and esteems, and esti- mates himself admirably handsome, and—and — and so forth ; but he ain’t. I would not no- tice him, not at all, if I was not you. You will see at once, immediately, when you first see him, that he is the one what thinks he’s some- ‘hing more than the rest of these. He ain't smart neither, by no means, not at all, nor—” “‘Shet that blab, or you'll make the little tne wish she. war with Sam agin,” cried Vic. “Oh! Iam very much amused,” returned Viola. She was indeed amused, and listened with becoming gravity to her loquacious com- panion. Seth curled his lip with proud scorn, as ho remarked : **You must excuse his manners. He ain't never been among cultivated persons, and in- asmuch as he cannot appreciate the good breeding evinced forth in others, I find it fometimes occasionally ut times quite difficult and—and—quite difficult to listen in silence, without not disapproving him for his conduct at times upon such occasions. How did you . way you escaped from the Engins ?” **Tt was through the kindness of an Indian chief, whose good-will—” ‘Vic, Mr. Vannoven, I should have observ- ed, is rather peculiar, and’ funny, at times, up- on certain seasons, in his general comportment and bebavior also. But, however, notwith- standing, in spite of this, you will perhaps, without doubt, not find no trouble with him. That young chap will be the only one that you will not like.” Thus Seth rattled on, till Vie suddenly halt- ed and raised his hand as a signal for the oth- exs to stop. : oe CHAPTER XIv. A SURPRISE, Arrer Vic and Seth had left the cavern, Snmmerfield and Wandaught remained inside, ing things so.as to make their stay more comfortable. ‘The ¢avern extended some thirty feet back, gradually enlarging and widening frora the entrance, until it terminated in an apartment of considerable size. Here, in one vorner, their furs were placed, so as to form, with their blankets, several easy and comfort- able couches. There was no escape for the smoke save through the entrance, which, of course, wasslow enough. Yet, for all this, not one found any difficulty of respiration when a bright, crackling fire burned hour after hour within the apartment. In the absence of Seth, Wandaught acted the part of cook, and soon hau a steaming meal prepared. This was devoured without much ceremony, and in the afternoon of the day it was concluded to venture forth in the mountains, agreeing to be absent but an hour er two. After emerging from the mouth of their rude abode, they halted for a moment to ecice upon the best course to pursue. ss Perhaps we should separate at this point,” eamarked Summerfield. ** Wall, I’m willin’,” returned Wandaught. «But we must agree upon some signal. One af us might get into difficulty and need the assistance of the other. Suppose we agree upon firing a gun as the si of distress ?” «That won't do. Thar mought some hear the shooter as we wouldn’t want. Ef I wants to gee you, I'll give the whistle you’ve heard for give, and ef you wonts me you kin do the game, I'll know what it means, and be on hand in less ror no timy.” “oat is anderstuod, then ; and let us now With this, the two started forward, their di- rections diverging considerably at the com- mencement. Wandaught’s face was toward the mountain top, while Summerfield proceeded in nearly a direct line ahead. It was his in- tention to visit the caiion of the Platte. He had been near it several times, but had had no i ak of giving it more than a passing glance. It was at no great distance, and its thunder could be plainly heard at the cavern. Pressing cautiously forward, he reached the caiion in the course of a half hour, and ly- ing down upon it, he felt amply repaid for the danger he had passed through to reach it. The waters of the Platte are as clear as crys- tal, and it sweeps swiftly and silently along over its bed of gravel and pebbles, until it reaches the Black Hills. Here its volume is suddenly compressed into a narrow tunnel-like passage, and thunders along with inconceiva- ble velocity. On either side, huge walls of red sandstone and siliceous limestone rise, and in some places are so close as to nearly touch. The waters of the caiion are very deep, and as they are hurled plone aout 6 jagged pas- sage, in some places become one mass of boil- ing, surging foam. At several points, Sum- merfield saw the thick mist arising from the commotion, and where le stood fhe spray was scattered plentifully over him. Then at some places the walls retreat, and the emerald wa- ters lose their froth and foam, and glide in swift silence along, like a river of molten glass. Soon this becomes agitated, and in a short dis- tance becomes as wild and tumultuous as be- fore. Thus, for more than two miles, tho Platte makes its way through the Black Hills, when it reaches a natural tea again, and ex- anding, moves forward the same as before. ts egress from the mountains is but a short distance above the celebrated Warm Spring. Summerfield remained. at this wonderful spot until he saw the night was not far dis- tant. Then he proceeded leisurely toward the cavern, keeping, however, a cautious lookout for danger. He had nearly reached the cavern, when ‘he heard the whistle of Wandaught. He halted to ascertain its direction, and heard it again, given something like the tones of a warning. This sufficed to put him on the guard as he set out toward it. It sounded directly above him, and at no great distance. As he worked his way up, he returned it at intervals, and the two thus kept an understanding of their rela- tive position. After going about a quarter-of a mile, he passed around a rock and came upon Wandaught, standing with his rifle ready cocked in his hand. ‘‘What's the matter!” asked Summerfield in a whisper. ‘sh! I want to show yer a sight.” “ Well, let’s see it.” ““Now be powerful keerful, for it’s a sight that'll make you open your peepers.” Thus saying, the hunter sank upon his knees and commenced creeping stealthily forward. Summerfield did the same, wondering what it all meant. Wandaught passed but a short dis- tance in this manner, when he arose silently to his feet, motioning for Summerfield to remain still. It was now quite dark, and objects were growing indistinct in the shade of the forest, In a few seconds, Wandaught turned and mo- tioned for Summerfield to stand beside him, ‘*—-sh! be keerful!” said he, as he arose to his feet, Thus speaking, he parted the undergrowth, and stepped back for Summerfield tolook. As he gazed, he saw, a short distance off, a large fire burning, and around it, extended upon the ground, a score of savages, painted and arrayed in their war costume. He counted over twenty before he withdrew. Wandaught turned, and the two retreated as silently as they came. The forest had become now sombre and gloomy, and it was quite difficult to make their way over the twisted roots and irregular masses of stone, Several times they stumbled, and, when at a short distance ‘only from the Indian encampment, by a sad misstep, Summerfield itched forward upon his face and discharged his rifle by the concussion. Almost simulta- neously there arose a series of wild whoops and yells, and the savages plunged toward them in pursuit, ‘« Make for the rocks,” said Wandaught, dis- appearing like a shot in the darkness. Sum- nerfield sprang up, but found he had sprained his ankle severely, and concluded it the safer plan to remain where he was. Creeping seve- ral feet, he lay down under the fice of a rock, The Fighting Trapper. 17 with his face turned upward. In thils position, he saw five dusky forms of his enemies lea past within as many feet of him, He hacdly dared to breathe until certain there were no more in the immediate neighborhood. Them he arose and limped pai y and slowly for- ward. Often he paused and sank to the earth as he fancied the approach of a foe. Once, he believed he was seen, and gave up in di ir, but it was only his imagination, and at after two hours of mental and bodily suffering, he reached the cavern and crept anxiously in. This, to his surprise and consternation, was empty, and it was plain had not been visited since his departure, He expected certainly to» find Wandaught there, and probably Seth and Vannoyen. ‘The absence of the three was un- accountable. The former, he believed, was captured by the Indians, and perhaps scalped and slain. Under this impression, he com- menced starting a fire. In doing so, he struck a body and stumbled over it. inking it one of the bundles of furs that had been displaced, he paid no attention to it, but kindled the fire. As it blazed up, he turned to replace it, but started as he saw that it was the body of Wan- daught. ‘Why. Jim, what's the matter?” asked Sum- merfield, anxiously, There was no answer save a deep, heavy breath, and he repeated the question, Failing to receive an answer again, he turned him over on his face, and saw a scene that thrilled him with horror, The hunter appeared literally cut and hewed to pieces, Bis dress was in shreds, and the flinty floor was covered and clotted with blood. He slowly opened his eyes, and closing them, murmured some that was unintelligible to Summerfield. The latter took his hand and found his pulse strong and steady, as though the system were suffer- ing no pain or torture. This was too much for Jim. He suddenly doubled up, and fairly screamed with laughter. ‘*Oh, you're a great doctor. Didn't know if I was alive or dead. Why didn’t you put a coal of fire under my nose. That would ’a told if I war playing possum,” he kindly added. “T's hurt some, George, but nothin’ to make me sick of grub. Most of this blood on my car- cass come off the red-skins,” I had an orful tussle with s couple, and it wa’pt fur from here neither. I’s thinkin”as how Id giv ’em the slip sorter nice like, whey 4 couple pounced slam on tome. It took me by s’prise first; but E give one a dig that made ‘im seo stars and thunder, I thort t'other would run when I done this, but he stuck to me like mad. He’s the hardest redskin I ever had hold on. We pulled and pushed and bit and scratched and tore and dug and fit, till we blowed like ba’rs. 1 didn’t know, once, but what old Jim’d have te give under; but I come the back action over him and got ‘im down and my knife into his hide. Wal, sir, I had to set down and blow awhile afore I could git ’nough gumption to lift his ha’r; but arter awhile I done it, and tuggedforhum. Ifound Thad one ot two ugly cuts, snd felt kind o” squeamish when I crawled in here. Arter blywin’ awhile, [heard youcomein. T’saguine to speak but felt sorter weak, and thort I'd let you find outfur yourself, Howsume ver, I wa’nt as bad as I pertended, and could '» throwed, yer when I let you turn mo over. Vd gota good deal o’ the redskins on me, and thought as how it wouldn't hurt you much ef shoul¢ skeer you considerable,” “L wonder what has become of Vic and Seth ?” “They're allright. Guess they steered “ear o’ the devils.” “You think, then, they did not encount+ them ?” i ““Can’t tell, you know; but if they have, guess they're kicking yet.” A Thus most of the night was spent in con versing and surmising. Wandaught recount ed several adventures, and Summerfield learn- ed much of his former lifo, although the trap per, as usual with his class gave but a very meagre idea of it. At last they stretched them- selves out with the intention of sleeping. But in a few minutes afterward, Vic’s well-kuows voice was heard at the entrance, “Hallo, in thar? Anybody "bout ?” “Nobody here!” returned Wandaught. «You and Summerfield come out here,” Wandaught passed out, followed closely by Summertield, They saw Vic standing by his own horse, while Seth was assisting a femule — to alight. The face of the latter was turned so as to conceal her features, and Summertiald seked. in a whisper : vee
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48 The Fighting Trapper. ** Where did you come across that person?” **Sam Redzel had her.” At this moment Seth approached with her. Summerfield started and turned pale. He fooked again. Could it he possible? Yes; there was no mistake. It was Viola. She recognized him at the same moment. ‘“Why, Viola, is this you?” he said, stepping forward and taking her trembling hand within his trembling own. «Whose surprise is the greatest ?* asked abe, with a deep blush. ““Where is it you have come from ?” “These two friends rescued me and brought ime & willing prisoner here. You remember tay capture—or don’t you?” she asked, in a lower tone. “T guess I haven't forgotten it,” returned Mammerfield, with a smile. ‘Well. I have been a prisoner ever since then. The chief, however, promised me my freedom, and I was-on my way to obtain it, when @ man named Redzel, drove my two Tndian guides home, and took charge of me iimself, and was with me but a short time when these two good companions of yours rescued me from him,” This reminded Summerfield that he ought io explain to the others the circumstances of their acquaintance. During the conversation, Vic and Weandaught had busied themselves with talking, gazing, however, at intervals to- ward them, while Seth was nearly stupefied with wonder. He so far forgot the politeness and good breeding he had endeavored to evince thus far, as to throw his hat back from his fore- lead, drop his gun, run both hands in his ‘pockets, and, spreading his feet apart, gaze in ailentconsternation at them. At last he com- prehended that the two were old acquaint- ances, that he had made a fool of himself in striving to prejudice Viola against Summer- field, and with a muttered ‘‘Humph!” turned and strode away. Beckoning to the hunters they approached, whea George freely told them of his prior relations with the young lady, and strove to express his thanks for her delivery. But the honest Vic would hear of no thanks, and at once led the way into their retreat. Seth brought up the rear—the picture of comica} inqnisitiveness and mortification: The two hunters, although unused to female society, were considerate and kind-hearted, and showed their good intention in every word and mevement. There was considerable re- straint. but it was more self-imposed than oth- erwise. Vic, with the rough gallantry of his nature, spread his blanket upon the rock, and depositing several furs with it remarked : «Thar, Miss Vennond, that’s yours as long as westay here, and ef a feller touches it—Tu ~-I’ll—jes see ‘how you like it.” “Oh, thank you! thank you,” replied she, seating herself upon it. ‘It is exquisite, but wouldn’t you.as lief call me what you did be- fore you learned my name ?” «Yes, and a good ’eal ratherer too. So, my little one, you like it, does yer?” “Tt couldn’t be better, I am sure. “That's good, and sounds jest like yer.” The others had seated themselves upon the opposite side of the cavern. Summerfield, seeing that Vic was engaged with Viola, com- menced a conversation with Wandaught, while Seth sat apart in dignified scorn. As it was growing late in the day, Vic turned to him and observed : «Hadn’t we better have some feed—sunk- thin’ to eat, I mean?” asked Vic turning to Seth. “I s’pose so,” he returned curtly, stroking the yellow tuft on his chin, and gazing in an opposite direction. “Wal, why don’t you git it, then?” “That ain’t my business, I rather ca’clate,” he returned, stroking more vigorously, and darting a glance at Viola, to see its effect upon her, “No, Vic,” interrupted Wandaught, ‘you bmow he tumbles off his hoss and boo—” “Did ycu say you wanted supper ?” “¥ rather guess I did?” ; “Ohi I didn't understand you. Shall we cook our game ?” ‘Yas, an’ he quick.” He passed outside, where he usually cooked the food, and during his absence a general conversation ensued. Vic related the partic- ulars of his rescuing Viola. “Do you believe he will attempt to cap- fare us, and search these mountains with 4 ‘band of Crows at his back.” **In course he will. Sam’s a chap what does what he says. He'll sarch the mountains fur a month with a lot o’ Crows at his back, an’ ’fore he gits us, thar’ll be a lot more of crows and buzzards at him,” said Vic, with a meaning look. ** His power is unbounded,” observed Viola. ‘Tn truth, I believe in case of a rupture among the Indians, he would have as many adherents as Mascanagh. The chief sent a couple of his most loyal warriors with me, and at a word from Redzel they turned and left me in his power.” “Did he misuse you?” asked Summerfield. “He struck me once, that was all!” All three started as though some one had struck them, . ‘Strike yer, did you say ?” asked Wandaught simultaneously with Summerfield. “‘T struck him at first,” returned Viola, with a laugh. ‘*T hope he will come, then!” said Summer- field, para his lips with passion. ‘*Why, boys, and my little one,” remarked Wandaught, starting up, ‘yer don’t know Sam Redzel as I does. I come across him in Louis- ville, some years ago. He war walkin’ the street with me one day, when an ole feller stumbled aginst ’im—jest happened to, you know. I cotched Sam, or he’d tumbled, and hung fast to keep ’im from hurtin’ the ole man. I seen he eyed him orful close, but I didn’t think he’d do nothin’. The next mornin’ thar’s a mighty fuss | all over the place, when some one found the ole chap had been murdered. I had my idees about it, but didn’t say nothin’ till we got out on the prairie, when I axed Sam if he didn’t doit. I thort he’d tear me to pieces ; but that night, when he got asleep, J heard ’im say ’nough to let me know that he’ aone it, sure. I found out, too, that that wan’t the only time. I heard ‘ima talkin’ once about some woman he’d killed. Howsumever, I didn’t let ’im know, arter that, that I thought he’s bad. I yumered ’im and got along as nobody else couldn’t. He told me that he used to live in Philadelphy or some place out thar, and gittin’ sick of it, went to trappin’; but he used to be so skeerish when he got in the States, that I know’d sunkthin’ else made ’im leave. One night he come to me in Independence, « good many years ago, in a great hurry, and told me he wanted to start fur trappin’ ground right off. He wouldn’t wait even till mornin’, but wanted me to start that hour. I axed him what's up, and he wouldn’t tell nothin’, and said ef I didn’t go, he’d start himself. I hadn't been in long with my furs, and it wasn’t time to start agin fur two or three months. SoTI told im I couldn’t do it. He was mighty mad first, but kinder laughed purty soon, and told me he’s goin’ to start, and axed me ef thar war anybody axin’ about ’im, to keep mum, He tole me whar to find ‘im when I got out here, and went off ina big hurry. The next mornin’, sure, I seen two fellers pokin’ round and in- quirin’ arter a feller that seemed mighty like Sam. They had some papers stuck up that folks said told about Sam, and said if any- body’d cotch ’im, they'd get a pile. These chaps, with brass stars, looked through every house in the place, but it wan’t no use. Sam warn’t thar, and they didn’t arrest nothin’ but the attention of the women, which they say is all them does want ar out Hast. Thar wara good many what had seen Sam about with me, and I got pulled and hauled by them ossifers, as they call ’em, but in course I didn’t know nothin’ "bout Sam, and tole’em so, and they had to go back without ’im,. «When the time come, I picked up my fix- ens and started for the trappin’ grounds, and sure enough I found Sam out here. When I tole ’im what a fuss had been made about ’im, he seemed to be mad ’nough to shoot me. He staid the season with me, an’ went back agin to Independence, but he didn’t stack thar long. I tried to get rid of ’im, but he allars jined me up ’mongst the Delawares, arter I got weil out on the perarie. One day Summerfield, here, met me an’ told me as how he'd heard I'sa trapper, an’ wanted to know what I'd ax ’im ef Td let *im and a friend go ‘long with me once. I tole ‘im | didn’t cure bout sich company, as thar war a heap o’ trouble, but the reasan I didn’t want ’im war cause I know’d ef he had any sperit, he an’ Sam would be at it. He said, igen etna he’d pay me a pile, an’ stuck an’ hung so, that I tole ’im I didn’t care, jest to git red on’im. The next mornin’ he come round to whar I's hangin’ out, and had that crooked-legged gawk with ’im. I told ‘im I guees he'd better stay whar he war, but it wan't no use. He had a couple o’ the purtiest hosses I ever sot eyes on, an’ offered me one jes like’e1 ; bat 2 tolo ’im thar wan't nothin’ — like Buster.: He give me a bushel of the est beccy I ever seed, and. kinder got inter ‘fections, We started one fine mornin’, an’ struck north to git out the way of Sam, for I know’d ef he jined us thar’d be a muss, nare ; but, skin me—I didn’t say that—ef we didn’t come ’cross him the next day. Assoon as I had a chance, I tole Summerfield to be keer- ful, coz he’s a b’ar when his dander was up. [ didn’t think o’ tellin’ Crooked Pegs, coz he didn’t look as though he'd hurt a beaver ; but I soon found out he’s the one I orter told; far yer remember, boyy, the squabble he and Sam got into. I didn’t think Crooked Pegs had much spunk till then, but he doubled Sam up as he never war before.” At this point Seth entered, bearing a steam~- ing piece of meat. The choicest portion was given to Viola, of course, Seth had lost his amusing affectation and was himselfagain. The rude meal was enlivened by pleasant conver- sation, and far into the day, the parties sat and were unmindful of the lapse of time. Then the three men dropped, as if by acci- dent from the little circle, leaving the loved and beloved together. Was there any mistak- ing of their relations to one another? Untutor- ed as were Vic and Jim, they still knew ti of heart life to read in the eyes. in the wo) in the exquisite gentleness of George and Viola, that their friendship was of a holy na- ture, and the rough men were as respectful and considerate as women. ‘The lovers were at last alone together ; mst trying but most blissful moment! They commenced s commonplace conver- sation, which terminated in what might be ex- pected. We might record it, but it has al- ways been a question with us whether it is right to transcribea conversation which should never be heard by a third party. There is a sacredness and interest about it that can néver be felt by the reader, and many would regard with disinterestedness what were words fraught with hope and happiness to the hearers. Summerfield spoke of the feelings she had awakened when he first met her ; of the many hours he had spent in thinking of her alone ; how his love had never slumbered, bnt in- creased steadily and surely until the present time, and ended by offering her the pure un- divided love of his heart. And Viola, after a few minutes of silence, too fall of bliss to pre- vent her speaking, told Summerfield the same story that she had listened to. She confessed that she had loved him from the firsi.; and prayed for and hoped to meet him, and yet was often frightened when her own nature told her of the deep passion that she was nourishing ; she had striven to forget it, but could not, and finally ended by accepting and returning his love. ; Then Summerfield spoke of his distant home, of his adored sister, and declared that, were she living, he would only need Viola’s pres- ence to complete his happiness; and she re- lated her own history, and stated that, when certain of the fate of her father, and with his consent, if living, Suromerfield might consider her as belonging to him. This was followed by plans, and questions, and answers, that need not be referred to. It seemed that they had not said much, when Vic and Wandaught returned, evidently to discuss matters of im- portance, ‘* Boys, the question is, what we're going to do ? How long we're going to stay here? Now Sam Redzel ’ll be here afore we could git out 0’ sight the mountains, and he'll hunt a week fur us ef he thinks we’re ‘bout. It won’t do for us to start now, fur ef we did he’d be arte us, and we’d lose all our furs, sure, if he didn’t fotch us. We've got to stay here till we make him think we ain’t here. He'll wait along while ’fore he gives us up, and we've get to keep mighty close. Ef anything turns up so’ that any of yer are treed in here, 7H show yer the way yer can give ’am the slip and git off cl’ar ef you works right.” Here vhe speaker arose, and spnroedhing Viola, lifted a loose rock, disclosing a dar! rent in the flinty floor. “This,” said he, ‘‘ goes down a few feet and then turns off, and arter goin’ under some stones and bushes, you come out behind a big stone, a purty good distance from whar we come in. I don’t know how it got here, but I spose some fellers have been here and used it like they did the ‘Hole.’ I staid here one winter when I's trappin’, and found a good many qua’r things scratched up thar, thas » “i
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‘ a IR Pare Bois ites Fe? bee The Fighting Trapper. ed as if some feller mought hev made ’em ith his knife.” ‘‘Where are they? Perhaps they may af- ford some clue to a strange history,” asked Bammerfield. ‘* Right over my little ono’s head.” Sumunierfield seized a brand and approached the spot indicated. As he raised the torch, he saw a number of rude letters scratched over quite a space, and after considerable difficulty he managed to trace the words : “Alvarado Gentillino, C. M. Harrison, F. Holmes, 1828. Got drove in here by Injins, and after two days they tried to burn us out. At might we dug out and got away.” . ** That explains it,” said Summerfield, after he had read it aloud. ‘A couple of fellows were compelled to make that passage for them- selves, and, after digging it, have recorded the ‘fact there.” “T thort as how that place wa’nt allers thar. ‘Wal, you see, it mought be of some use to yei mtsome time. I happened to see the stone loose one day, an’ arter lookin’ round found what it war. **we've got to stay here some time, though paps we kin go to-morrer, pervided Sam ain’t about. Me an’ Jim 'll look ’round and see ef thar’s ‘any sign, an’ ef thar isn’t by to saorrer we'll be off.” Tis all acknowledged, was tho best plan to ‘be pursued, and, without more words, Vic left the cave. ‘The animals, Seth stated, were in as secure a place as were their owners, bein in 3 gap between two huge walls of rock, which war only approached by a rough, irregular footpath. Vannoven had not been gone more than a rouple of hours, when he returned. ‘Seo nary thing ?” asked Wandaught, care- iy. “Yos, sir; I’ve seen ’nough I reckon. Sam Redzel ain’t half a mile off, an’ he’s got over twenty Crows with ’im, an’ thar’s devil in his syes. Iseen’em comin’, an’ waited till they stopped, when I counted ’em. They're all daubed with war-paint, and are goin’ to give this ole mountain an overhaulin’. I’m afraid, we'll have to close in with ‘em.” “Do you know how they intend to proceed ?” asked Summerfield. : ‘I s’pose they'll hunt one by one till we're found, when they'll come down on us.” “This yer'd be fun,” said Wandaught, play- ing idly with his knife, ‘ef it wa’nt fur this little one. In course it won’t do to get ina scrimmage now. We've got to keep sly and git off ef we gan. “ Heaven nt that we may escape that man,” said Viola, fervently. ‘Suppose he gets me again, George!” added she, in a husky whisper, looking in his eyes. « He will not get you,” returned he, with em- phasis. 4 “No,” said she, after a second, with solemn slowness, **he will never obtain me alive.” “Please don’t feel thus,” added Summer- field, alarmed at her manner. ‘* You are safe with us certainly, dear Viola.” aa Don’t. be skeert,” said Vie, noticing her ap- pearance. ‘Sam Redzel won't git bis hands on yer as long as we're bout ‘im. I=guess we'll be ‘bout awhile too.” ‘ “Tam sure I am safe with you ; it was but a momentary fear,” returned Viola, much affected , wt this exhibition of good will. ‘ “Tl be darned if I won't blow every Engin to. thunder and lightning,” exclaimed Seth, ex- citedly, and forgetting himself entirely, ‘‘ before they shall hurt you.” Thisremark produced a gate from all. . F “That's so!” he added shaking his head and bringing his clenched hand down upon his bnee. ‘And if you don’t believe it, just wait till the chance comes.” “IT don’t doubt it, Seth,” replied Summer- field, ‘neither do I doubt the willingness of oT one here to defend Viola even unto leath.” ‘That's the talk!” exclaimed Vic. ain’t skeert now, little one, are you?” “No, no ; I feel no concern for myself ; but I fear that some of you will have to suffer. I vhave a dread that one at least among us will fall by the hands of that man or his follow- ” bs «And what of it?’ queried Wandaught. 4*P'm sure I wouldn’t feel squeamish ef I knowed it war g’wine to be me. We've all got to go under some time, and what's the odds when it is? Tharain’t nobody, ’cept Preps them here, what would ery much over Jim Wandaught, Wal, as I’s sayin’,” he resumed, * “You |. The only way to aanepe’ liscovery: and ef I had my choice, I wouldn’t keer a bea ver skin when I gits throwed in my tracks.” «That's my idee,” added Vic ; ‘I s’pecta some these times the varmins will get Vic, and I don’t stop to think or care about the time. Ef I’s sure my little one ’d git home all right, I wouldn’t feel sorry ef the Enjins should wipe me out; but when they go at the business, in course I can’t help tryin’ to do them the same favor, and I’m thinkin’ when Vic does go un- der there'll be some tall kickin’ and fightin’.” «J don’t know as I am particularly anxious about giving up the ghost,” remarked Seth ; ‘and, come to think, I'll be blasted ef I want to yetawhile. There is a gal—a lady, I mean— down in Louisville that would die ef she should learn Seth Potter was no more.? The fellow heaved a great sigh after he had delivered him- self of this, and looked at Viola. It was his last attempt to produce an ‘‘impression” upon her. He believed that if she entertained any passion for him, this remark would call it forth. She caught his glance and replied : ‘«T hope you will see her, Seth—for you de- serve to—and make her heart glad.” ‘«T hope so,” he replied, solemnly. «Wal, thar ain’t none of these gals to care fur me,” said Vic, ‘‘ Nor me nuther,” added Wandaught. «There is one who always will,” said Viola, earnestly. «TI believe that,” said Vic, with feeling. Several times one of the hunters crept to the mouth of the cave to look out for danger. Late in the afternoon Wandaught detected an Indian a long way off, but none of them came near enough to awaken any apprehension. After a long time night settled over the mountains. All felt that another day was to dawn upon them. A faint moon arisen, which rendered the ponderous faces of the rocks visible, and ‘their gloomy shadows more gloomy than before. Seth set out to visit the animals, but he proceeded with extreme caution and spent a half hour in passing the hundred yards. He was fully armed with his rifle and a couple, of knives, for he deemed it highly probable that he should encounter some ene- my before returning. He reached the spot, however, without detecting anything suspi-~ cious, and passed down among the horses. They all knew him and manifested no fear at his approach. He patted each one, and seeing that they were provided for during the night, was about to turn and ascend, when one of them gave a snort of alarm. As Seth stood in a sort of yawn or rent, it was perfectly dark around him, while above he could see the blue piece of sky and the edges of the rocks clearly defined against it. As he gazed up, he saw the head of an Indian above peering down upon him. He watched a moment, and saw it gradually slide into view until fully one half of his body stood in bold relief against the The Indian remained motionless a moment, save that he rept his head eraying tne a snake’s about to dart upon his prey. He then bounded lightly down. Seth crouched so as to keep him against the sky, and waited his a proach. ‘Then he arose like a cat, and clutch- ing the savage by the throat, pressed his knife to the hilt in his body. There was a spas- modic quiver and struggle ; then all was over. ‘Thar! cuss you!” exclaimed Seth, ‘I wish I could serve you all like that.” Seizing the body, he carried it a short dis- tance, then threw it down between two rocks, and covered it with stones, so as to conceal it from what others were roaming in the neigh- borhood. He then proceeded as cautiously back to the cavern, and, in answer to the in- quiries, stated that he had seen nothing alarm- ing, But when Viola was sleeping, he told the others the whole circumstance. CHAPTER XY. HOT QUARTERS AND SMOKER. In the morning following, a long and earnest consultation was held. As usual, the opinion and will of Vic were the law of the rest. He stated that none need expect Sam to leave un- til he had searched every spot likely to con- tain them ; thatis, every spot likely to-contain them in that section. He was now exploring the valley, and in the course of the day either | he or some of the savages would be above. “~ 4 - trae w ‘by strat : i = _—" ea ae ey) agem. If they could effectually mislead them until night, they might mrp ge their hidinge place to some distant part of the mountain, and finally baffle him. ; vain aa “But,” said Vic, “it am the hardest thing fur me ter sneak ‘round tryin’ to keep out the = way o’ that cuss and his redskins. Wagh! Tay oy itchin’ ter hev some fun.” ; a ‘«So’m I,” added Wandaught, ‘* but in course — 4 we've got ter keep kinder low ‘long as thara somebody else in the matter.” BY: Vic said, ‘‘In course,” and then proceeded, q “Two or three of us must git out o’ here soon _ r y hel % fi i 4 an’ make tracks in somé other parts up above, __ so as to make them b'lieve we ain'tdown in these ,,and ef they don’t find this place by night, we'll give ’em the slip.” a “Tll be darned if we won't!” éxclaimed Seth, ‘age Vinnie “Vic, yer allers war some on plannin’,” said Wandaught, admiringly, ‘an’ I ain’t afeard but what we'll git out squar’ with our little | one,” ni i ave who is going with you, Vic?” asked 6th. \ ‘ After a short conversation, it was decided | that Wandaught and Seth should accompany a : him, while Summerfield should remain with — ) Viola. They expected to return before there was any probability of their retreat being dix sovered. But, even should the savagescome upon it in their absence, there was |ittle cause —- | to fear. It will be remembered that onlyone | sould enter at a time, and one person witha | rusty rifle might effectually dispute the pas- — q sage of a hundred or a thousand. cig This decided upon, the three, with many warnings from and promises to Viola, made their way from the cavern, and began cau- tiously ascending the mountain. Summerfield and Viola followed them out and watched their movements ut ‘il they were lost to viewamong 4 the wild regions above them. Summerfield then re-entered the cave and made prepara- tions for resistance in case an attack short Ba ‘| made before the rest should return. Ina few i minutes Viola came in and seated herself upon her accustomed seat, and watched his moyee _| ments. a ‘What ‘does that mean?” she asked, as he | carried one of the bundles of fursand deposited it a number of feet nearer the entrance. a “Can you not comprehend, dearest?” he ree turned, with a smile. ‘ me, “Yes; I suppose you intend itasa means | of defence. But do you think Wwe shall be diss covered 7?” un at “No; but such a thing might occur, and, of course, we should be prepared for any emer- —| : | ! a : | ha at s A>! gency. Ido not think the others will be ae sent long, and there is hardly‘a shadow of prob- ability that there will be any savages from the valley below before they return.” arn ‘« George,” said she, after a moment’s deep — thought, ‘I don’t know ‘how it is, but I have “A presentiment of what?” _ Of the death of —” ‘*Great heayen! what is that ?” At that instant, with fearful distinctness, came the sharp crack of half a dozen rifles, ac- compauied by a number of wild whoops of agony and of defiance. They were distant, and yet the stillness of the region rendered themas audible as if but a few rods away.. 3 For a few seconds, they remained as motion. less as two statues ; once they heard the dis ee charge of a single gun, and now and then : could distinguish several faint shouts. in) they heard a number of yells repeated, dee ’ & moment there was the hurried tramp of er ih Re one approaching at arapid rate. Summ ar | cocked his rifle and bent his eye repre row entrance of daylight. The tramp contim ued, and in a moment he saw the twisted men __ bers of Seth suddenly halt before it, Then the cave was darkened, as he wedged his body rap. idly in. : Mi? “ Quick, George, for God’s sake! there’s for. ty after me, and Sam’s among ’em,” he ex claimed, plunging in, ire Summerfield rolled
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£0 _— ‘Where's Jim and Vic?” ‘¢ Don’t know ; guess they're kickin’ round. We all three run into a nestof ’em ’fore we kmowed it. I seen Jim jump square over one wf ‘em and go down a place a hundred feet deep. Lord a’mighty! I seen stars, too!” ** Did they pursue you?” ‘Yes, yes ; here’s'the devils now! Look.” A number of moccasined feet and naked dogs eould now be seen flitting before the en- trance, and a triumphant shout of exultation told the savage joy of these outside. “Shan t I crack some of them legs?” asked feth, placing his finger on the trigger. “No ; don’t crack anything but a head and you'll have enough of them too.” At this moment one of the forms stooped and be horrid face of Sam Redzel was visible. ** Hallo, in thar!” he bawled. **Helloah! back agin. How you like it?” ‘That you, Crooked Legs ?” “It's the feller that walloped you most shunderingly once.” ‘And what's goin’ to get sizzled, cuss yer fiver. Hallo, Somefield, you thar too?” *T am here, Sam Redzel, as you will proba- tly find.” “And me too,” added Summerfield, imita- Ning the voice of Vannoven. “Bah!” twughed Redzel, ‘‘you can’t come that, ole hoss. Vic Vannoven and Jim Wan- Anught ‘ll pever cross my path agin.” ** And you can’t come that, ole woman fight- a:,” retorted Seth. ‘‘ Vic and Jim are kicken, I guess you'll find.” Seth sighted his rifle and took aim at the face of Redzel. Summerfield saw the move- ment. and drew back for him to fire ; but just ag the finger pressed the trigger, and while Redzel was giving utterance to an insulting command, he placed his hand beneath the bammer. “George Summerfield,” continued Seth, as le dropped his gun and gazed in his eyes, ‘*you hindered me from killing that devil, just sow. Don't ever try it again. If you do, I will soot you as sure as there is a God wn heaven!” ‘Seth, what's the matter ?” “* Don't do it again; that’s all!” and he calm- fy resumed his gun and raised the hammer #gain. At that instant a warrior’s body was visible ai the entrance. Seth fired, and a howl that made their ears tingle with horror, told his fate. As his companions stooped to draw him away, Seth jerked Summerfield’s rifle from his hand and killed another Indian. The yells of rage that followed the death of these two Indians were absolutely deafening. * Tho bodies were withdrawn in a moment, and when the clamor had abated Seth called out : ‘*Sam Redzel, I shot them two. I thought the first one might be you, but it wasn’t; you are very careful to keep your grecious hide pntofexistence. Why don’t youshow yourself?” ‘*Bah! you think I’m a fool, don’t you?” **Of course. I've always had that opinion since I licked you so easy.” At this instant, there was the discharge of a gumber of rifles, and their bullets rattled essly against the sides of the cavern. ‘Try again,” called out Seth, ‘‘ you might hit the rocks again.” At that moment they heard the discharge of two pieces, apparently at some distance. This nas followed by an excited conversation nmong those upon the outside. « By thunder and lightning, but especially the lightning!” exclaimed Seth, joyously, looking roynd to Viola, ‘if that ain’. Jim and Vic, then I’m a sinner, sure.” “Whoop!” he yelled, ‘thought Jim and Vie wouldn't cross your path any more, How do you like the fun, old prison bird ” There was no reply, but he rapid mum. bling and the hum of voices continued. Ina a they heard the treading of departing et, Alas does that mean?” asked Summer- «They have sent off a lot to fight the boys, and the rest staid here to—” ‘- Hallo, in thar. Is Summerfield thar ?” “Tam here. What have you to say?” “1 spose yer got that gal.thar? I want r. “Well, get her, and you can have her.” : “YT Sell you what I'll do, Summerfield. Ef you gives up that gal and don't help Crooked al eel me’n him have got ter settle an ac- gonut—I'll let yer off and promise yer, yer whan’t be hurt,” _ “Redzel, we will both defend her against The Fighting Trapper. you as long as- we are able, and I will assist Seth to shoot you at the first opportanity.” “That's the talk!” exclaimed Seth. ‘Then look out,” thundered Redzl, with a fearful oath. ‘‘ We'll see how you like smoke.” There was a commotion among the assail- ants. Soon several commenced pashing brush and sticks into the entrance with poles, keep- ing their bodies concealed. Seth succeeded, however, in breaking the arms of a couple of savages, who unconsciously exposed them. ‘* What are they going to do?” asked Viola, in a whisper. «Burn us out,” returned Summerfield, with asmile. ‘That is, if they can,” he added, as he pointed backward toward the outlet that had before saved three human beings. ‘*Seth,” said Summerfield, as he witnessed these preparations, ‘it will assist us, I think, if we make Redzel believe that we are alarm- ed at the present turn of things, and have no thought of ang him.” “Don’t know but what it would. Good idea. You do the talking, as you'll be the most likely to touch that tender heart ot his.” “Say, Sam !” “Wal, what’s up?” «That's a mean trick, I think. If I couldn't dislodge a foe, I wouldn't burn him out.” “Bah! you wouldn’t, eh? Wal, I would, Do you give up?” itt course not, and do not intend to ei- er.” “Wal, smoke then. I give yer the choice I done a while ago. Ef yer sin’t a mind to a vit why you kin take what you can’t elp. While he was speaking, a savage stooped to light the fagots. As quick as thought he lea ed to his feet and fell in the agonies of death, Seth had shot him through the neck. Another ventured more warily, but Summerfield caught a glimpse of him as he was in the very act of applying the torch, and sent a bullet through hisabdomen. As the Indian disappeared from view, the dry twigs flared up into a blaze and ignited the rest. He had succeeded although it had cost him his life. In a few moments the whole entrance was in a blaze , but, con- trary to the expectations of all, the smoke pass- ed outward, not a particle entering the cavo! This was unaccountable to Summerfield, whe expected that some smoke, at least, would enter ; but, as he felt a draft of air from behind, he turned and saw that Viola had displaced the stone that covered the outlet, and there was a constant rush of air inward. She smiled as she saw thé expression of surprise upon his countenance, but neither spoke. The Indians, not content with simply start- ing the fire at the entrance, were continually making efforts to push it farther inward; but this was a perilous task, as they were compell- ed to. stand directly before the entrance, and either Summerfield or Seth would catch the outlines of their forms, and fire, and never miss. But their continued attempts were par- tially crowned with success, for quantities of the burning embers would yield to those in front and be pressed considerably backward. Still there was no immediate danger from this, Their respiration was free, and as yet they experienced no inconvenience from the heat, ‘Seth, it won’t do to make an attempt to leave here before night, will it?” “Of course not. It wasn’t far from night when I got chased in here. In two hours it will be as dark as a pocket. ‘They will keep the fire going all night, until Sam concludes we are purty nigh used Up, and then they will crawl in and haul us out like roasted potatoes. I hain’t noticed where this hole comes out, but it can’t be a great distance off, and I can tell you, George, you mustn’t think you're half through the danger yet.” “Of course I don’t; but I can’t help feeling pretty joyous now and then, when I think of the discomfiture that Sam will experience when he finds we are gone. No doubt,” added Summerfield, with a look at the embers, ‘‘the nest will be warm but the bird will be flown.” Both watched the entrance incessantly. The slightest exposure of their savage foe was sure to result fatally to them. Thus over two hours, unconsciously to Summerfield in his excite- ment, passed away, and during that time seven Indians haa fallen by the lands of Seth and himself. “«George,” said he, turning suddenly toward him, ‘do you know it is as dark as pitch? We can talk about leaving now. Viola, see here a minute.” ( As she approached, he continued : «« These fellows will keep that fire for two or three hours yet, and our chance of got ting away isin these two or three hours. They, in all probability, have no idea of our eluding them by going out a back door, and all that is needed is caution and self-reliance. ‘This un- derground passage opens a few yards dis- tant, and near enough to be fatal to us if the slightest mistake is made. Before going, 3 think it best for one of us to examine the pas sage in order to be sure of the course to, pur sue. I will do it, I guess; and, George, keep blazing away while I am gone.” So saying, he let himself down the opening. He sank to his chin only, when stooping, com, menced crawling on his knees. In a few moments, the head of Seth rose tc view. ‘1's all right,” said he anticipating: thei question. ‘It goes about thirty feet, all the way under rocks, and comes out behind one, where there isn’t any chance of a savage being stationed. The way is clear, and all we have got to do is to be quick and silent I will ge first, you next, aud let Viola follow, Let me see We have everything we can faké, buvé we not?” «Yes ; but Vic will have to lose, his firs ; bud if I ever reach the States he shai! receive thes full value.” “That will make him madder+han anythi else, but it can’t be helped, Are you ready?” Each signified consent, and he again stoop ed from view. “Come on,” came his faint and muffled voice, and Summerfield down. ‘«Now, dear Viola,” said he, ‘‘keep close to me, and be careful and hopeful.” With this he also papers, and in @ sec ond called for her to follow She did so with- out any hesitation, and commenced groping Pea | a dark damp and crumbling passage earth and gravel. In a few moments Summerfield asked her to pause. Thenshe heard a movenentand again groped on, A few seconds afte: che was lifted to her feet, and found herself epg above ground, ‘The chilly night air was blowing against her, and she could just discern the out lines of Summerfield and Seth, so deep was the darkness, A short distance off she could hear the voices of the savages, and above tke black forms of the rocks could see the reddened glare of the flames that their enemies hud kindled for their destruction. ‘Here, George,” said Seth, ‘take my kand It won't do to get separated.” ; Summerfield did so, and in turn took Viola 6, and the three commenced moying slowly and cautiously forward. Seth was a few feet in ad- vance, and was obliged to feel every foot of his way. Once or twice he paused upon the very edge of some awful precipice that yawned at his feet, and, without speaking to the others, changed his direction so as to avoid it, Thus they moved along for nearly a half-hour, when Seth, whose powers of vision were sometimer wonderful, saw, .but a few yards ahead, two forms rise apparently from out the very earth! He halted as quick as thought, and sank noise- lessly to the earth, almost simultaneously with Summerfield an’ Viola. Without a word, the two unloosed their rifles, and held them on the cock, ready to be discharged at the first necessity. ‘Che forms continued to approach, when, suddenly, they halted almost upcn them, and one spoke in an undertone ; “That you, boys?” All three rose to their feet et these words, fo» it was Vic who had uttered them, “Took us some time to find yer,” remarked Wandaught. ‘« Why, how did you know we were here ?” asked Viola, nearly overcome with wonder and joy. “ Why, my little one, didn’t you spose we conld see that ar light off yonder, and didn’t you spose we know’d you'd crawl out the fust chance? We've been watchin’ reind ever sim dark for yer.” “But,” said Summerfield, suddenly, «what can we do without horses? Our own animale are too close to the savages to obtain.” ‘¢They is, am they? Wal, I ruther guess now Do you spose we're green ?” Summerfield did not understend fully what he meant, but, without saying anything more, he followed them. They proceeded more rap- idly now, as the way was better known. & short distance travelled, and iret reached & spot where stood their Lorses.. were thera, ye
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ae Se eee The Fighting Trapper. 21 1 ria seemed waiting impatiently for their ri- ors ‘Well, if this doesn’t beat all?” exclaimed Summerfield, in admiration. “Tn course,” remarked Vic to Viola, ‘‘ we wan't goin’ to come to look for yer till we'd got she hosses, So Jim, he sneaked up about dark and fotched ‘em off. We brought ’em out here, and then commenced lookin’ fur ye. We ihought we wouldn’t come onto you when you's too close to the devils—the Engins— sauss yer mought think we belonged to ’em too, and thus hurt our feelin’s, and p’raps our hides, too. Jest let me boost you up.” In five minutes, every one was mounted and vn their way. Vannoven took the lead, Wan- daught was next, and was followed by Seth, while Summerfield and Viola came last, Thus they again resumed their homeward journey, and with it the perils and suffering that not éyven Vis or Wandaught anticipated. CHAPTER XVL FLIGHT, Two or three hours of rough and dangerous fiding, their horses plunging and pitching over rocks, gullies, and gorges, brought the fugitives to the base of the mountain. The night was still of an inky blackness, and the air cool and bracing. During the journey down the mountain, Vic and Wandaught, as Sune be eapected. exchanged not a word. Seth now and then made some remark, yet the | occasion, although far different, so forcibly re- minded him of a previous one, that he was less loquacious than usual. Besides, he had several galling wounds, which prevented too joyous a flow of spirits. Summerfield remain- ed close to Viola, admonishing her when,some unusual obstruction was in the path, and en- livening her with some cheering remark when the riding would permit. Suddenly Vic and Wendaught halted. As the rest came up around them, the former spoke : «We're now on perarie, and thar’s good trampin’. We've got the best hosses of the devils—redskins, 1 mean—and I propose that we let ’em went.” “T second that motion, especially if this horse is willin’,” saidSeth. ‘ He's been pran- cing as though he kinder itched to be off, and I itch Li f ‘ ‘ai **Then I s’pose you've got the itch,” retort- ed Wandaught. e -O-no, not at all ; I didn’t mean that.” ‘* My little one,” said Vic, good-humoredly, “are you afraid to ride fast ?” **T can ride as fast as my animal can go.” “flood. All ready. Come on.” As he thus spoke, his horse broke into a gal. lop, as did also the others. Their beasts were magnificent ones, and chafed with anger under the restraint imposed upon them. bec, 6% with characteristic cunning and foresight, had selected the fleetest and most powerful of the number, and the easy canter upon the level irie, in the bracing night air, only awoke e slumbering fire within their veins. It was almost impossible to curb them, and almost unconsciously, to the riders, their gallop was increased into nearly a run. ur « Qh! this is delicious!” remarked Vioia to Summerfield. ‘After being cramped for two or three days in that narrow cavern, it sends the thrill through ‘one to fly over the ground like this.” : “It is glorious,” he added. ‘ Doesn't it give an overflow of spirits ?” ‘ “Tt does indeed. It seems I could ride for many hours thus.” ‘“«How doesit affect that presentiment ?” he asked, lowering his voice to a jesting undertone. “Don’t refer to that,” she sari returned, in a deep whisper. Hour after hour they thus galloped forward over tho level prairie. They were crossing the northern part of what is known as the Great American Desert. They might be said, in fact, to be in another country, so different was it from the region they had just left. The air they found continually growing warmer as they receded from the mountains, while the earth beneath them was dry and hardened, a8 Shoah the sun kad blazed uninterruptedly upon it for many a day. It was evident that the fierce storms of thunder, lightning, and rain, which they had experienced, although but a few miles distant, didnot reach this section. The stunted Bee 3 prairio grass brushed their horses’ sides as they went through it, and now and then the suffo- cating dust arose from their hoofs. Soon it began to grow light uhead of them, and rapidly increased until the sun appeared, and the day was upon them. Vic and Wan- daught reined in, and in a few moments they all came to a halt. ‘‘T rather ca’culate as how thar'll be some tall swearin’ in a little while up that way,” said Wandaught, jerking his hand back of them. «*Wouldn’t I like to hear that feller when he crawls in and finds there ain’t nobody there , and when he don’t find his horses, thunder, won't he rip and tear!” added Seth. ‘Phe exhilarating ride had had its effect upon all. Even Vio’s eyes sparkled with genuine, healthy humor, and Summerfield felt disposed to be funnier than usual. ‘¢How does this set on your stummick, my little one?” asked Vic, as he surveyed her glowing form with unfeigned admiration. «‘O Vic! Iam nearly crazy with pleasure. I never enjoyed such a ride. Doesn't it make your heart jump?” ‘Yas; thar’s an orful thumpin’ in here when I think what a sweet little chicken we’ve got with us. Blastnation, Jim! did you ever see such a birdy ?” asked Vie, turning with a happy grin toward him, ; ‘No, sir; ef you and me war young, Vic and as purty as Sam Redzel, we mought make teorce step ‘round.” This sally was groeted with a hearty laugh, ia which Viola could not help joining. The erimson glow on her face deepened, and she made an effort to pout, but she could not resist the feeling that all experienced. «You ought to be ashamed of yourselves,” said she, glancing at Vic and Wandaught, and yet she admitted to herself that, next to Sum- merfield, their admiration would gratify her more than any other one she could imagine, “Come,” she continued, ‘‘let us go on.” “No; we'll stop a while to let our hosses rest,” returned Vic, springing from his. At this they all dismounted, and, removing their saddles, lot the horses crop the buffalo grass, that was quite luxuriant. Before Summerfield had turned his loose, Vic approached Viola’s to unfasten the saddle for her. Unloosening the irth, he pulled it: Peel off, and then resting it on the side of the animal, turned his face and asked, in an undertone : «Yer ain't mad at old Vic, am yer, my little one?” ««T don’t know,” she returned, shaking her head. ‘+ You mustn’t talk so.” ‘Wal, blast it, you am a sweet, purty, little thing, an’ I jest said so, kase it war so.’ Viola really believed the ip te but kindly trapper feared he had offended her. She ap- ached closer to him, and placing her white d upon his ponderous shoulder, gazed into his twinkling orbs as though she would read his very soul. She saw one or two of the others were noticing her, and Seth had made an excuse to pass near her in order to hear her words. But her voice was so low that it reached no ears but those she intended it should. “Vic, I love you as though you were m father, and I know you will never offend me.” The hardy old trapper winced, and felt as uncomfortable as if a rifle-ball had struck him. Viola waited amoment, expecting him to speak, but seeing that some strong emotion was at work in him, she turned and approached the others. The day had now so far advanced that the prairie was visible for many miles. Away the faint swells stretched as far as the eye could reach, and beforé them the horizon closed down upon the level prairie, as though it were the ocean. Behind them rose the gigantic chain cf the Rocky Mountains, veiled im a thin, bluish haze, that softened their jagged cutlines and wrapped them in a soft splendor. And many miles in the distance rose the sharp point called the Peak. Several clouds were floating near its summit, which made the top resemble a white cloud inthe sky. There was a majestic grandeur in the whole scene, as much in the vast, undulating, and withered prairie as in the mighty chain of the moun- tains that extended for thousands of miles over the continent, As the sun rose in the sky the air became milder and pleasant, so that Seth relinquished his ides of starting a fire. _There was no food to cook, andwmone needed the warmth of it. ‘© We ort ter have a bite,” said Vic, ‘‘forit never sets well to ride far without it How- sumever, I could go fur two or three months, ny eB spose my little ‘un ort to have sum¥ “T can stand it, Mr. Vic, as long as yoe can,” she returned, with spirit, This made the hunter laugh again as thoug) he would kill himself. He hed, adn.ired he beauty and appearance before, and now he re spected her spirit. The men had seated themse!ves upon the ground, and Summerfield spread his blanke for Viola. rt “There,” said he, ‘‘ rest yourself, for I sus pect we shall have a long ride.” ‘‘T hope so,” she returned. ‘Then, her face toward Vic and Wandaught, said : ‘‘Qome, while we are idling away the time © here, I want you to tell me about the troukle you had with Redzel’s men.” ‘*It wa’nt much,” returned Vic, ‘‘ but me’n Jim made bigger fools of ourselves than we ever did afore. We knowed thar war troub. ble "bout, and yet, fur all that, we run ouy noses right into it. We orter bin blowed So blazes fur it. The fust thing I knowed } didn't know nothin’ in pertic’ler, ‘cept as low we'd walked squar into a thunderin’ big nes of em, They rose right up mong us, and commenced crackin’ away. I seen Jim throw a back spring and go over inter some place -whar I knowed he war all right, and I smashed a couple of red devils’ faces and got into coves with only two or three holes in my carcass, Crooked Pegs, thar, was gappin’ "long ahind us, and when he seed the trouble you ortez seed him slide. Wal, then—wagh! waght wagh,” and the trapper leaned his head back and laughed, while Seth looked at him aa though he would like to annihilate him. A broad grin illuminated Wandaught’s counte- nance also, and Summerfield and Viola could not resist smiling at the exquisite drollery of the scene, “T never thort he could use his legs as he did then, The way he straddled over tha ground would have scart a prizzh ~ IT couldn't see nothin’ else of ‘im but his feet ; but they saved im. There wa’nt one that could come nigh him, and so he got down to the Hole ané give ’em the slip arter ull.” As the speaker finished, he turned towaré Seth, and, seeing his expression, busst into an- other fit of unrestrained laughter. “T can’t see what ther's to laugh at,” said the latter, indignantly, ‘“Wal, we does,” said Wandaught, joining them, ‘* Why don’t you laugh yourself!” «Some folks don’t know what manners is,’ remarked Seth, with a meaning emphasiu, an? looking off upon the prairie, «And some chaps knows as what—” an I bee ee we started,” ey: claimed the persecuted fellow, suddenly s; . ing to his feet. me “So do I,” added Swamerfield, rising, oy out of sympathy for Seth than e ‘«And I have been thinking so ever sinco we halted,” joined Viola. After a few more indulgencies in laughter, the two trappers slowly arose and made prepa: rations for starting. ‘lhe horses had not wan dered far, and in a few moments were brougl® up, re-saddled and mounted. The line of march was the same as before, with the exception that Wandaught rode four or five hundred yards in advance, for the purpose of keeping s lookout for danger. Seth and-Vie rode side by side, just ahead of Viola and Summerfield, who kep# up 4 continual conversation. The travellers continued uninterruptedly upon their journey until nemly noon. The horses were kept upon a rapid, easy walk, as if was necessary to preserve their strength for any ponineeney that might arise. All at once, Summerfield, while replying te ® remark of Viola’s, saw Wandaught suddenly halt and raise his hand above his head. , ‘« What does that mean?” she asked. ‘*Something is wrong, I fear.” Vic and Seth had reined up their bear and the four stood waiting the movements Wandaught. ; ‘* What is the matter ?” asked Viola of Vic. ‘Jim sees sunkthin’, and is waitin’ till he knows what it mought be,” The four now sat and gazed asilen’ Wandaught, who, for full ten minutes, not. meke a movement. Then he rose to his fect, and standing upon the back of his animal, gazed amoment ahead. Then he reseated himself and turning his head motioned for the others ~ to come up. . © Sign?” asked Vio, upoa { wise ‘ Y ra wit q 1 i" ‘4 i ry) Tt
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Seas: “Engin.” ‘This was all unintellicible to Viola, but the yest understood it, and Summerfield explained % to her. There were Indians on their track. They now started slowly forward. After a while Wandaught stated that the party ap- proaching did not number over half-a-dozen, and was no war party. In a short time, Viola could see them nearing her, in their picturesque costumes. They appeared to fear no harm, and approached with such an air of confidence wad security as to disarm all suspicion of evil in- tention upon their part. In explanation of this, Vic replied they belonged to a friendly tribe. » 4 it tribe ?” asked Summerfield. «The Sioux.” ** What are the Sioux doing in this section ?” queried Summerfield. “They often tote around here after bufflers, and to gt sight of things. Hello, Jim’s gab- bin’ with ’em.” The savages had come up, and were now holding a conversation with Wandaught. Ina moment the two parties were together. The Indians had halted, hoping to effect a barter with the whites. Summerfield saw that they had a : popmaud of buffalo meat, and with a few trifles he 1 cera sufficient to make a good meal for all their party. As there was notHing to detain them longer, the party set forward again. Viola suffered considerably from thirst during the day, as the water in the American Desert is exceedingly wearce. In truth, in some places the stranger would perish from thirst. Quite a number of streams, however, cross the upper part of it, and none of the company really experienced any danger on account of it. About noon they reached a narrow stream that had once been a river. Its banks were white, and the sun had cut them into great curling cakesof mud. A short distance down they came upon myriads of tracks of hor-e showing that a drove of them had quenched their thirst at this small stream. 6 water was fresh. In many places the tiny springs bubbled up through the silver sand, imparting a delicious coldness to it. ~ Choosing a suitable place, the party dis- mounted and made proparations for quite a fengthy halt. Wandaught started o fire from the buffalo grass and a few dried sticks that ny seattered along the stream, brought down a long time before, when its volume had been swollen to a torrent. With these, after consid- eratle difficulty, he succeeded in cooking the meal that Summerfield had purchased of the Sioux. A good, substantial dinner followed. While eating, all kept up a running conversa- tion except Vic, who appeared sullen and dis- pleased at something that had occurred. This grew so marked at length, that Viola ap- ached him, when he was sitting apart by imself, and ed him his trouble. At first be refused to answer, but, being pressed, re- plied loud enough for all to hear. “T’ve bin thinkin’ as how them skins hey all gone to the devil—” ‘Don’t talk that way, Vic.” «Wal, gone to—gone then, "'Nuther tramp’s good for unthin’ ~ Summertield approached hira with 4 smite. “‘ What was the value of all your furs, Vic ?” “Kit Cheatum promised me two or three hundred dollars for ’em if I'd take ’em to West- port for him.” «Will you sell them to me?” “Sell ’em to you?” repeated the trapper, _ staring at him as though he thought he had lost his senses. “Yes; sell them to me, I mean. I want to buy them.” “See here, ole coon, ef you want to pick a muss, I’m ready fur ye,” said Vic, rising to his feet and approaching Summerfield. ‘““Why, what's the matter, Vic? Can’t you make a bargain? I want to buy your furs, that is all.” Summerfield, seeing that he had better explain himself, continued : ‘See here, my old friend, you and Wandaught have made every exertion in your power to save my life and that of Viola Whether you succeed farther mattr.s not. I have already incurred a debt whi-a I uever expect to repay ; and, as a moiety of the payment, as a slight token of the gratitude I feel for you, I shall place five hundred dollars into your hands as soon as I can communicate with home, upon our arrival in Independence.” “No, you don’t; you can’t come that, it » would be steali ’,” returned Vic, resolutely snaking his head. _ “Stealing ?” exclaimed Summerfield.“ Why, : The Fighting Trapper. | I took your furs and let the Indians,shoot into them until they were riddled and completely ruined, and now, because I offer to pay for what I did, you call it stealing. O Vic!” «Of course,” joined in Viola, ‘‘ you ought to receive payment for them.” “Sartin, Vic, you're kinder green,” added Wandaught. Still the honest trapper suspected the truth— that he was only making it as a soreen to an act which his heart prempted. He continued shoking his head. « Just let me get an idea into that thunder- ing old head,” said’ Seth, stepping forward. He spread his fee: apart, and raisiug the broad of his left hand before him, and dropping 6 index finger of his right hand into it, com- menced : : ** You see,” here the aker frowned learn- edly, and raised and let his finger fall upon his palm to give more emphasis to his words, *¢ you see here’s the point—” ‘‘What, that ar a pint?” interrupted Vic, pointing to Seth’s monstrous finger. ‘Wait a minute,” said Seth, as the others laughed, “wait a minute. You see, this is the way of it. You got some furs (a fall of the finger) ; these furs you put in s cave (another fall of the finger); you went away and left them there (fall of the finger) ; you get into a muss with ins (fall of the finger) ; steal their horses ( of the finger) ; therefore, therefore, I say George owes you just five hun- dred dollars” (a triumphant flourish and fall of the finger at the last sentence). “That so?” asked the hunter of himself, scratching his head and thoroughly puzzled at the explanation. «Of course, itis so. Plain as day. You see you just got the furs (here the hands drop- ped, and the speaker commenced going over the grounds rapidly), got into a muss with the ; therefore, Summerfield owes you five hundred dollars.” “That's the fact,” returned the hunter, ashamed to appear ignorant. « And as Summerfield was ae cael contin- ued Seth, ‘‘when they were destroyed, you, therefore, owe me two hundred dollars.” Vic raised his head and foot at this, and gave Seth a tremendous kick, saying : “Thar ‘tis, then!” This put the whole party into the best of spirits. Vannoven agreed to accept the sum offered, and Summerfield promised Wandaught as liberal a remuneration. As the stream afforded a ‘good camping ground, it was decided to remain in their pres- ent position until morning. Accordingly prep- arations were made for spending the night, and, keeping a good look out, they seated themselves upon the earth iu sociable conver- sation. CHAPTER XVIL THE BUBNING PRAIRIE, Sxortiy after this it was concluded best to turn in for the night. Wgndaught agreed to perform the duty of sentinel, and, taking his rifle, he passed a short distance, so as to be be- ond the light of the fire. Vannoven rolled imself in his blanket, like a huge turtle in his shell, and in a few minutes was unconscious to outer things. Summerfeld, at Vic’s request, lay with his back to his, in order to preserve the warmth of their bodies and in this posi- tion, with the exception of Seth and Wan- daught, the company were soon sound asleep. Summerfield was roused from a sound re- freshing sleep by feeling Seth’s elbow thrust several times rather forcibly in his back. «What you at?” he demanded, irritated at being thus disturbed. “Say, George, I want to auk yeu something.” “Well, if you want to keep your head whole, don’t speak to me again.” “Well, that’s a darned fine way to talk, I should think,” indignantly retorted Seth, po- king his head from under the blanket, and glaring at the swell where Summerfield lay. “Keep your feet on your own side,” he added, giving one a kick. Then, as he sunk back again, continued : «Some folks are mighty particular how others speak to them, but like to: talk to themselves. I am always willing to hear what has got to said, for my part.” . : At this point Summerfield dropped to sleep, which. lasted five minutes, possibly six, when there was o flounder from Seth that startled him as though a buffalo had fallen upon him, “S’pose you are mad at that movement, ain’t you?” said Seth, as he felt Summerfield moving. The latter, finding that no sleep could be gained thus, arose, and, smothering his wrath, passed to the other side of the fire, where, in twenty minutes, he was sound asleep again, despite the philosophieing of his com on. A half hour, he again felt some one toush him, and started up, determined to compel Seth to cease disturbing him ; but i of en- countsring him, he saw Wandaught leaning over him. «Come, it’s time to git up.” “Ts itmorning? I suppose so. That com founded fellow has spoiled this night's rest.” “No, ‘taint mornin’, but it’s just the same.” ‘* What's the matter?” Wandaught pointed toward the west. Summerfield looked in that direction, and saw the horizon lighted up for a long distance, as yon the sun were rising. is he knew could not be a fact, as it was there he had seer it sink upon the day before, Still he did no understand the cause. ‘ ‘‘What does that mean?” he asked. Wandaught made no reply, but snuffed the air, which was strongly tainted. - ‘Isthe prairie on fire ?” asked Summerfield, ringing to his feet. «That's it. You've got it at last.” At this point, Seth approached, and in a mo- ment there was a movement of Vannoven’s bundle, and he iy forth. He walked slowly up to the others, keeping his face turned to- ward the light, which was growing strong every moment. «Tye smelt that ever sin’ noon,” said he, “but I didn’t think Sam Redzel war such a fool to burn the perarie when he found we war on it, though I s’pose he felt mad ’nough when he knowd we'd gone off with the best of his hosses.” «Why, is that his work?” questioned Sum- merfield in astonishment. ««Tn course, don’t you know nothin’ ?” ‘« How soon will it be here?” ** Couple of hours.” «Well, should think it near time some pre, vision were made against it.” “So sh’d L Jim, s’pose we ‘fire’?” By “ fire’ he meant setting fire to the gras around them—a precaution that all understood, and one which, as our readers are aware, is in- variably adopted atsuch times. The two trap- pers approached the smouldering fire, and seiz~ ing a brand, each went a few feet east of the lodge where Viola lay, and twisting several bunches of the grass into compact masses, stooped and blew them into a blaze. This com- municated readily with the rest, and in a few minutes there was a broad wave of flame ex- anding, cracking and flying with the wind m them. During this proceeding, Seth had secured the horses, which exhibited some signs of ing a stampede, and Summerfield called Viola. At first she felt some natural alarm at the unusual aspect of the heavens, but soon understood that there was no personal par, ere is a terrific sublimity in a burnin ing ag The tumultuous ocean of fire an ame that surges forward like a tornado, out- stripping the’ fleetest race-horse ; the pointed spears of fire that twist and twirl in dazzliug gyrations ; the unearthly reflection and glare upon the clouds above ; the infuriated tramp and bellowing of the buffaloes ; the nie tread of the snorting horses ; the hissings an writhings of the scorching serpents, and the sharp crackling and roaring of the fire itself ; all these are fearful exhibitions of some tre- mendous Power, and are scenes which no pen can describe. The fugitives rode close iu the blackened track of the fire they had kindled. The grass was so thin and dry that the flames merel flashed over them ; yet the ground was heated, and in many places there were little twists uf flame that snapped and crackled, and the horses would sometimes leap with pain as they trod upon a burning twig or root. Once ur twice enormous snakes were seen, half burned in two, and lashing the ground in agony ; and the situation of the fugitives at least was a strange one—riding as they were, between two mighty vélumes of fire. ; When they had gone about half a mils, they halted, determined to wait till the morni As they turned their faces backward, they sow that the fire was less than a mile distent There was, if possible, a more awful subhinisg 4.
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ce a or = me FTE A en The Fighting Trapper. Siciiaadnienars lla cers i deiner g in Ym appearance. The revolving spouts of wmoke and flame could be plainly seen, and y overheafl were millions of sparks and cinders that seemed to shoot upward, and when their force was spent, slowly float in mid-air. The amusual disturbance of the atmosphero had ereated a strong wind, which at times would force part of the flames to the earth and hold them still a moment, and raise them up and drive them like chaff before it. All had wheeled their animals round, and stood facing the approaching element, like wild beasts at bay. Not a word was spoken, so complete was the spell that bound each tongue. Once Summerfield turned toward Vi- ola, whose animal stood beside his. The lurid reflection of the.powerful light lit up her coun- tenance with an unearthly and almost ghastly » brightness. Her bosom was swelling and heav- ing with excitement, and through her thin, part- ed lips he thought he could hear the fevered comeandgo. Her dark eyes were flash- ing, and as the wind lifted ner flosting tresses from her shoulders, there was, indeed, a wild soblimity in her loveliness. The horse with his arched neck, dilated nostrils, and glaring harmonized,well with his rider. _ As Summerfield was gazing at her in rapt wdmiration, his ear detected a noise resem) ding the distant, roll of thunder. He listened in- tently, thinking perhaps it might be the fire, but the sound was so different, he was soon satisfied that it was not ; and although it might be mistaken for thunder, yet it had a different sound. There was a peculiar, indescribable noise that might be compared to a trembling wave of thunder, and which, at last, Summer- field was convirced was the tramping of myr. iads of feet upor the prairie. He turned tc Vie and Wandanght, but saw that they had no. ticed it, and were ccaversing about it. ‘What is that 2” he asked of the former. “A drove of bufflers,” he replied. s ‘« Will they not trampie us to death ? «P’raps so.” ¢ With this consolatory n.nark, the two trap. pers dismounted, calling on Seth to see thal their horses were restrained from fleeing in their absence. They then gatuered a number of burning twigs and sticks together, and blew them into a bright blaze. When this was fin- ished the thundering clatter of crackling hoofs upon the prairie had grown rapidly louder and nearer, until all knew that they were compara. tively close at hand. The trappers waited a moment, and then, when they could discern the dark forms, fired into them, then seized several brands of fire and hurled them toward the approaching bodies. Onward they came, not checked in the least, but the stratagem of the hunters had saved the lives of the fugi- tives. At the point where the buffalo had fallen (for it could not have been otherwise) the herd divided into two great diverging bodies. These plunged on ag irresistibly as before, but left the spot in which paid friends were standing fectly open and safe. By a ae e sight—this herd of a hundred thousand buffaloes planging aoe them. On each side, before and behind, they surged for- ward like a vast sea, their ponderous heads and backs pressed close together, and sinking and rising like the heaving water. Their hoofs gave forth a peculiar, crackling noise, like the rapid discharge of musketry, save that it was fainter and more continuous. Their long, pointed horns resembled the presented spears of an army, and their tails lashed the air as though in torment. Now and then. a sharp bellow would tell of some unfortunate one gored and trampled to death in an instant, and at inter- vals a huge body would be forced above the others, or vould leap up and in a moment fall back and mingle again with the dark sea of bodies. ae Thus, for an hour, swept this mighty herd along. The dust from their hoofs was nearly suffocating, and dimmed the glare of the fire so much at times that it was scarcely visible. When they had finally disappeared, the trap- pers remounted their animals, and the com- moved slowly forward in their track. Be- Bind them, the fire had spent its force, and was now visible far ahead and upon each hand, but was raging more fiercely toward the south. Vannoven informed them that this conflagra- tion had not extended over much surface, and would travel but a short distance farther. This gection being rarely visited by storms, was peculiarly liable to be overrun with fire. The dieing stunted and sparse, was always and burned readily; yet, as has been shown. a fire originating here was not likely to extend to a very grest distance, but was mere- ly a local one. ; The fugitives had gone some two or three miles, when they saw that morning had dawn- ed. A halt was made, and they breakfasted upon a portion of the buffalo that still re- mained, Ever since the flight of the buffaloes, Seth’s horse had manifested an uneasiness and terror that rendered him almostunmanageable. Seth coaxed and railed him, but as it did no good, began to fear the consequences. “Whoa, darn you!” he ejaculated, giving him a yank that threw him upon his haunches. ‘* What's the use acting this way? "I'won’t do you no good,” he sommenced, in a persua- sive tone, as the animal uae more docile, and began prancing gayly aroun “ That's pa ay Whoa! whoa! nice horse,” and he patted the animal kindly upon the neck. Perhaps the beast had discovered for the first time that he was not carrying his Indian rider, and he was determined at ali events that the one upon his back should be dislodged. ‘*Skin me, ef he ain’t scart,” remarked Wan- daught, contemptuously. ‘* Who's scart ? Whoa, nice horse. WHOA!” he exclaimed, as the animal commenced whirling around like a top. Summerfield sprang to the earth and caught his head, or there is no telling what would have been the result. “By thunder! ef I don’t kill that darned infernal thing!” exclaimed Seth, furiously, springing to the earth, and holding him by the bridle. Then, gathering his strength, he made a maddened kick at the animal, which wheeled around at that instant, as he divined his intention. The consequence was, the whole force of the kick was lost in air, and, in- atead of being spent upon the horse, it lifted Seth from his other foot and let him drop upon his back. Summerfield Sprang and caught the animal again, orhe would have escaped. Seth’s discomfiture was greeted with a hearty laugh, which enraged him only the more ; and, as he ‘arose, he commenced clawing blindly around in search of something with which to strike the horse ; but nothing, save a long, charred stick, rewarded him. ‘This, however, he clutched eagerly, and running up, struck such a blow that it broke in his hand, and the horse escaped him again. **Go, then, ye blasted, bloated skinflint, low, greeny beast, I mean!” and with this, he threw e cudgel after the flying beast. In vain Vic uttered his horse-call whistle ; the infuriated animal sped away over the P ran and, ere long his form was lost in the distance. “Now yer in a pretty fix, Crooked Pegs!” exclaimed Vic. ‘* What are to become on ye, fur as sure as shootin’ Sam Redzel ’ill be down hyer in less nor two hours, You'll have to set- tle accounts, then, sure.” : , “I kin whip Sam Redzel any day. Jist let him come on!” shouted Seth, fairly beside himself with fury, as his long arms beat the air. ‘I kin lick the whole onye. Jist jum: hyer if ye wants accounts squared!” and Se began to “‘ peel.” This was too much for the company, They laughed until tears stood in their eyes. Seth spreading his legs wide apart like two long braces to an old house, thrust his hands into his pockets and scowled furious- ly. Even Viola was convulsed, but she too strongly commiserated his case to refrain from condolence. A | poayeree him she laid her hand on his shoulder, looking full in his face. Soon the thunder-cloud began to dis- sipate, and ere Vic and Wandaught had re- covered their equanimnity, Seth’s face was like 4 full round sun of smiles. Thus good humor was restored, although there was no forgetting that Seth was in a bad predicament. CHAPTER XVHi PUBSUIT, AMD A? BAY Aurnouas Seth had besn deprived of his an- imal, the party determir.ed that no time should be lost in plodding apon the way, as hereto- fore ; and, instead of adhering t6 the general” wish to tarry there for the night, Vic informed them that they should not halt again until dark, They spent no more than fifteen min- utes in eating their meal, and Seth mounting behind Summerfield, they struck their horses into a brisk gallop. Seth would ride about an hour with each, and thus they succeeded in get- over ground about as rapidly as thougs oe ssessed a horse of his own. © prairie passed over in the afternoon was: mostly of the rolling kind, and was much bettey watered than the portion over which the fire” had raged. In some places it was well time pered, and resembled another country, which, in fact, was the case, for they had passed the confines of the Great American Desert, ami were again upon the Mlowy, fertile prairie. The in ee continued moving forward, amd, as Vic had declared was his intention, did not far aan until it Ni dark a aged ie then halted upon a small stream, fring ® number of cottonwoods, and in a short time Viola’s rude tent was erected, as it had been the night before. Afterpartaking of the ¢ven- ing meal, she retired, and Summerfield, Seth and Wandanght stretched themselves before the crackling fire ; Vannoven remained on duty ag sentinel much of the night. Seth strove ta engage Wandaught in conversation, but he wae more reserved than usual, and in a short time the three wrapped their blankets around than, — and sunk to sleep. Vannoven had SN icion that his com- pany would be visited before morning, and, instead of remaining in one position, he con« tinued walking around the camp at intervals all night, on the alert, for the slightest sign of danger. But the company were andistele and at an early hour they arose refreshed, and — made hasty preparations for resuming their journey. There was a sudden and unexpected eo in the weather during the forenoon of r day. The air was still tainted with a sm smell, and the pire. ee of the prairie created a grest disturbance in the atmosphere. There were short but strong gusts of wind at intervals, and a yudden turn to cold that was - wonderful. In two hours it was asif they had passed from a tropical into @ frigid climate, and, to make the chanye more wonderful still, & snow-storm commenved at noon! Huge flakes were blown almost horizontally agaiust the travellers, and were whirled around their heads until they were perfecly blinded in the white mist. In twenty minutes more, not # article of snow was in the air, and hardly » Rake visible upon the giound. Seth conclud- ed that ‘‘ things had got out of order ; shouldn’$ wonder if that blasted hoss was tLe cause of it all.” ‘ After the cessation of the snow-squall, the air seemed to possess an unwonsed brilliancy, and objects could be seen at nearly double the distance they could before. As the fugitives were now in dangerous territory, Vic rodu quite a distance ahead, while Wandaught, ing a keener vision, remained about distance behind / iy They had not journeyed over a mile thus, ac Wandaught suddenly rode up among em. «Danger ?” asked Summerfield. ee ‘Yas, sir, thar is! Thar’s a lot of redsking follerin’ us!” Vic, who had also returned among them, exchanged a meaning glance with the speaker at these words. Every one was silent a fow seconds, when Wandaught said : ‘«Thar’s no use of hiding the matter, boys. Sam Redzel and his whole pack have been after us ever - we left the mountains, and they're in sight now |” Y All turned their oyes instinctively at these words, and sure enough, far behind them could be discerned a number of moving specks in the distance. Had a shot struck Viola, sho could not haye been more startled than she was at this intelligence. She had ceased en- tirely to fear Redzel, and this sudden con- sciousness that at this moment he was so near, was almost a revulsion from hope to despair. A short consultation or council of war was held. , Had Seth his horse they would have feared nothing ; as it was, the course decided upon was to run at all events, This determined, Seth mounted behind Wandaught, and the fugitives struck their horses into a full gallog ad the prairie. Now commenced a run for a. From the very commencement it was evident that the pursuers the advantage. All were well mounted upon equally good horses, while the additional weight of Seth embarrassed the progress of the fugitives, He changed — from one: to another, ‘until, as a last resort, — Summerfield gave up his horse to him, and mounted Viola's, holding her in front of him, “What will be the end of this?” asked she, as she felt Summertield’s arm pass around hey — utes eee ae a . 3
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24 quivering fcrm and drew her fervently to him. ‘Heaven only knows. They gain upon us mb gia mile, and sooner or later we must "hey conversed together, and at intervals Summerfield would glance behind him, and every time he did this he was compelled to ad- mit that the pursuers were gaining at a rate that was fearfully certain and rapid. «‘Thar’s our only chance, boys !” called ou Vic, pointing in a southeast direction. As Summerfield turned his eyes in that direc- tion, he saw, several miles distant, a huge, dark rock, that some freak of nature had raised seemingly out of the prairie itself. It was of great size, very irregular in its outline, broad at the base, perfectly perpendicular upon one side, while upon the other it was inclined like @ very steep plain. It was one of those strange refuges that are found in some parts of the Far West. Upon the prairie, many miles from the slightest elevation, these piles of rock are found, whose construction is a source of won- derment to the curious. Some of them are so admirably adapted for defence as to com- pel the belief that they were erected at some remote period for that purpose. What is equally strange, is that they are often found in sections where the slightest pebble is un- known for miles. It may appear improbable that the refuge in guestion should be discovered at the precise moment it was needed, but it was not chance that brought them upon it. Both trappers knew of its existence, and had shaped their course in the morning so as to pass it. They well knew its value. As Vic spoke, Summerfield comprehended his meaning, and said to Viola : ‘That is fortunate, certainly. We can make a stand upon that rock against an army.” At this instant they heard the faint shout of their pursuers. “TI fear nothing;” he added, ‘‘we can an- nihilate the whole company from that stand- point.” Viola made no reply, for her heart was too full for any. Wher within a souple of miles of the rock, Seth’s horse suddenly stumbled, throwing him several yards over his head. He was not in- ured much, and turned to remount his animal. ut he was still down, and in spite of his ut- most efforts, could not be made to regain his feet. Summerfield called to Seth to hurry, as every second was precious. He still endeavored to raise him, but finding it utterly useless, ’ turned, and striking intohis own canter, was soon up to the others. And thus they continued their flight. »The pursners saw their misfortune, an divined their intention in hastening toward the. rock, and strained to the utmost to overtake them before it could be accomplished. .Seth ran as he never ran before, and the others rode as they never rede before. Redzel’s exulting shouts could be heard, and several shots were sent from bis company. At last the fugitives thundered their panting horses up to the rock. “Jump, and up with you!” exclaimed Vie, springing from his horse, and, with charac- teristic foresight, carrying the buffalo meat qith him. Summerfield d Viola’s half- fainting ferm, and, with almost superhuman strength, bounded up the steep face of the rock, followed by the panting Seth. Vic was ilirectly behind them, and Wandaught came feisurely up in the rear. As they reached the top, a score of bullets rattled off splinters of rocks around them, yet fortunately touched none. The rock was surmounted by a per- fectly horizontal cap, circular in form, and «bout thirty feet in diameter. Around the sdge of this were piled a number of stones, open only on the side by which the fugitives had reached it. On dashed Redzel' with nearly forty shriek- ing savages. They intended to follow the fu- gitives and capture them by absolute force, and made an impetuous rush up the steep; but the rapid, deadly discharge of the rifles from above told too fearfully upon them. The fore- most were shot through and rolled like logs, im their agony, to the ground. “Several, with in- sane frenzy, made their way to the top, and there met their fate. Seth clove the head of one nearly in twain with his clubbed rifle, while Vic, concentreting the terrible strength of his frame into his arm, struck a savage a blow that cracked his skull like a cannon shot, and sent him spinning full a dozen feet through the air. Wandanght caught another, and, with a light- The Fighting Trapper. ning-like movement, run his knife to the hilt in his body, and then grasping him around the waist, sent him headlong to the ground. There was but one avenue of approach, there was but one vulnerable point, which was now invulnerable, and the savages could stand this terrific resistance but a short time. Breaking in complete bewilderment, they fled wildly back, and at a few hundred yards distance gathered together to hold a consultation over | the best means of dislodging the fugitives and avenging the death of’ their comrades. “Whoop!” shouted Vic, giving way to his feelings, ‘‘that ar’s the tallest kind o’ fun.” «Pity they stopped so soon,” added Wan- daught, complacently wiping his brow. «There was some excitement in that, I al- low,” said Seth, as he seated himself near the latter. “‘T guess they were taught one lesson not to be forgotten very soon,” said Summerfield. «I imagine they will consider somewhat before they make another such a rush. But where was Redzel all this time? I saw nothing of him.” “He took precious care of his old hide,” re- plied Seth. ‘(I saw him standing ut the bottom, yelling like all fury for the others to go up, but was very careful not to attempt it himself.” “It’s qua’r he can’t be knocked over. I move that we pick him off the next chance we git, and then we'll be done with his bother- in’. ” ‘My sentiments exactly: It ought to been done long ago.” ‘Look at them,” said Summerfield. ‘They are hatching some new scheme, I warrant.” The trappers kept an open eye upon the movements of Redzel, and were ready for any manifestation upon his part. Summerfield seated himself beside Viola and conversed cheeringly with her, assacing her that there was no probability of the Indians making a successful attack. It was now quite late in the afternoon. The weather seemed to grow colder again, and the savages made preparations for encamping upon the ground. The horses, which the fugitives had left at the base of the rock, had been cap- tured, and of course they retained their own, so that they had little fear of an escape being attempted before morning. © Vic had a quantity of the buffalo meat cook- ed, as was his invariable custom, and of this they partook sparingly. Viola retained her portion without tasting it. She knew not how soon they would suffer for it. Water could not be obtained, and this simple fact occasion- ed more alarm than did all the others com- bined. Gradually the night closed around them ; the savages lighted their watch-fires at different points, so as to surround the fugitives. Al- though the weather through the day had been singularly variable, and the heavens were full of straggling clouds, yet a moon arose late in the evening, and the prairie was bathed at intervals in its full flood of light. Four fires were blazing at as many points around the rock, at a considerable distance, and about these could be discerned the shadowy forms of the savages stretched upon the earth, or pes between them. Once or twice Vic and andaught succeeded in picking one of these off; but the distance was too great and the aim too uncertain to spend many shots in the attempt, and they contented themselves with merely keeping a watch to prevent an ap- proach. Each trapper, with Seth and Sum- merfield, took it upon himself to watch one of the fires through the uight. ‘«‘Here, boys, what does this mean ?” sud- denly asked Seth, in a suppressed voice, turn- ing around and pointing out upon the prairie. Wandaught approached, and peered cautiously over a moment, then stepping back, said, ina low, but joyful whisper : ‘<Thar’s three or four sneakin’ up to git them carcasses down thar, Let's wait till they git close, and then blaze into ’em.” Several dark forms could be seen stealthily, silently, and slowly approaching the roc Wandaught remained in an immovable posi- tion, gazing upon them with as much zest as would a hunter upon his prey. “Now, boys!” said he, in a husky, almost inaudible whisper. All sprang noiselessly to his side, ami as silently sighted their rifles. Then there was a simultaneous crack. A wild, deathly howl of agony pierced the air and rolled far over the prairie, Several¥crms cculd be seen clutching the earth in thei: death struggles. Four In- hd dians were stretched full length ae th ground. One lay flat upon his back, his lime extended in the He ad of death ; another, upon his side, with his arm beneath his hea, as though he were quietly sleeping, while a third was doubled up like a twisted mot. AU were dead. That was a night never to be forgotten the fugitives. Notoneslept. Viola, righ she feigned sleep, did not close an eye. Now and then they would exchange a word or twe man undertone, that rendered the silence only the more oppressive, and once in a while, per- haps, Summerfield and Seth would chang their positions for a few seconds. Several) times the former approached Viola, and gazed down into her sweet face with a look of tendex- ness, mingled with pity that so frail and bean. tiful a being should be doomed to suc tortures, both of body and soul. Toward midnight, another change in ths weather took place. Huge clouds continue | flying through the heavens, rntil the moon wea nearly obscured. A black, threatening mars of vapor overspread the sky, and in a few mi’ ments a hail-storm commenced! ‘This lasted but ashort time, yet an incredible quantity of enormous hailstones fell like bullets upon te rock and prairie. This was a most timely gorl send, and came near convincing Summerfiehd that Providence does sometimes step aside fc favor his erring children ; but when his mird was about to turn, he received a stunning crac k from one that changed the nature of his thoughts entirely. Seth was fortunate enough to be struck by a couple that set him dancir g like a madman for a few moments. He, how. ever, in obedience to Summerfield’s suggestion, collected all that could be found, and preser ~ ed them until they should melt into wuter, ine large hollow i» the rock. Again the storm passed and the struggling uncertain light of the moon was seen at inter- vals throngh the acer clouds. Summer field peered downward and saw that the India bodies were gone. They had been taken away dnring the darkness of the storm. Slowly and painfully the night wore away, and at last the welcome light of morning itu. mined the prairie. The watch-fires alumbered, and the Indians congregated again into on# body and held another consultation. Redzel was in the costume of a savage, and could only be distinguished from the others whe» he was comparatively near the fugitives. He generally managed to keep himself moving among the others, so that it was about impor - sible for them to gain a shot at him. Wandaught remained on duty while Vic turned and distributed the murning meal. AV felt considerable hunger and partook heartily. ‘‘ Bat away, my little one,” said he, noticing that Viola hesitated, ‘‘no matter ef ’tis ths last. We wont die that way.” ‘How then? by thirst?” she questioned. «No ; nor that way either.” Summerfield and Seth locked to him for ap explanation, and he answered : ‘‘Thar’s nobody goin’ to set roostin’ up here like we just have, ‘nother night. Ef we're here when it gets dark agin, afore it gets light agin we're goin’ to be down thar,” he said, with a meaning gesture. “Do you mean that, instead of waiting for them to attack you, you will attack them i” asked Viola, amused, in spite of herself, at h’sa manner, ‘That's the talk, my little one. How'd yon like it?” “‘Well enough, for I suppose it must come “¢ that sooner or later ; but it seems a mad ven ture for four of you to rush among nearly ter times that number.” ae yentcored greater things than that ia my day.” But,” remarked Sumuaerfield, «I vap't help thinking they will make a final effort, and the crisis will come sooner than you antici pate.” ««P’raps so!” returned Vic, vigorously chew- ing a huge piece of buffalo meat. “Tll be darned if I don’t ache mightity,* observed Seth, as if a new thought had struck him. ‘ This lopping around so on these stones don’t agree with my constitution—” ‘Tt didn’t once!” interrupted Vic, with a sly twinkle. “Td like to git off, if possible, withouc fight. ing; but I have come to the conclusion that can’t be helped ; and being it can’t be helped, why the sooner it is done the better. Them’s my sentiments.” At this point, Vannoven rose and exchanged a A aa a Blo Spee
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’ Be The Fighting Trapper. Ta) | nee a a Wh aia ET La SRO Nh ae =e ye weer s places with Wondaught, who seated himself and commenced eating with a cheerful coun- tenance, “T suppose you are aware,” said Summer- field, “ fat Vac intends to attack those fel- lows to-night, if we remain here till that time ?” ‘* Yas, 1 heerd you talkin’, and have come to that c’lusion myself.” “Do you not think, Jim, they will attack us before that time ?” “No, sar; they won’t do no such thing. They got ‘nough of that yist’day, and ll now to starve us out.” Ah!” exclaimed Seth, his eyes lighting up at this intelligence. i ‘'That’s their idee, and the only way we kin help it is to tumble down thar and make a scat- terin’ among ’em.” The pointed remarks of Wandaught made each thoughtful for a time. Seth sat cross- legged, gazing mechanically at each piece of meat that entered his mouth, which operation was so spirited that he seemed as if continually bowing to himself. Summerfield sat apart witb Viola. “Here, Jim, you're wanted this way; you too, Somefield,” called Vic from his lookout. “What's up ?” asked Wandaught. «They want to hold a gabble, I b’leve.” “Oh, I see. Here, George, you must do the talkin’.” Redzel was standing a short distance off, holding a fluttering rag, fastened to a stick, as n signal that he wished to make some commu- nication with those above. Summerfield saw that he held his rifle in one hand. t ‘Make him drop that before you hear him,” vaid Seth. 4 ak! “T guess there is no danger,” said Summer- field, hesitatingly. : ‘*Make him drop it,” added Vic, in & man: ner that said there was no need of question ing the Pronoaly of such a requirement. “«See here, Redzel,” spoke Summerfield stepping out to view. ‘What do you mean by retaining that rifle?” “Retainin’ that rifle ?” he repeated, holdin it out at arm’s length, and gazing contemptu ously at it. ‘‘Retainin’ that rifle? Don’ mean nothin’, of cowrse.” “Well, then, for the appearances of things i it a few feet from you upon the ground hold no arms, and it is no more than just to require the sams thing of you.” “Neyer nrind that. I was just going to ask “‘Redzel, do you intend to hold that rifle while you speak ?” “In course I does. As I’s sayin’—” “Then I shall hold no communication with per returned Summerfield, stepping back m view. i “Wal, I'll doot then, bein’ it’s you,” said Redzel, hastily muttering an oath at the same time that did not escape the ears of those above. Summerfield looked down again, and gaw that he had laidit at hisfeet, —~ “Step ten feet away from that,” called he to him «« D——41 pertie’lar!” replied he, sullenly moving three or four feet from it. Summer- fisld noticed these suspicious manifestations, tat concluded to listen to the communication. “Well,” said he, ‘Iam now ready to hear what you have to say.” * Bust, I want to know whether you mean to stick it out ?” ' “If you knew more than a fool you wouldn't asked that question, Redzel.” ** Next, I want to know how long you think o’ stickin’ thar ?” ‘Phat depends on circumstances—just as the notion takes the rest, Perhaps we will descend and give you a ¢all during the day. * Perhaps not until to-morrow.” “Yas do; we'd be glad to see you.” “ Hardly as glad, I suppose, as your friends that spent part of the wight where you are now standing,” said Summerfield, with a cut- ting sarcasm, Redzel winced, in spite of himself, beneath this pointed thrust, but rallied quickly, « We'd be glad to see you, anyhow; don’t miss comin’. 5 You needn’t fear; Seth, here, wants to make a closer acquaintance with you. He says he would like the fun of thrashing you This brought an oath from Redzel, too fear- ful to transcribe in this pluce. He replied : _ “J'll give him the chance, and yon, too, if my want it.” pie | TG Bot this hes nothing te do with the busi- Nd i ness on hand. Have you anything more to ask or give?” “Til just state my intentions, that’s all You've got that gal up thar, and I hain’t chased her this far fur nothin’, I didn’t bring a lot of friends to the mountains, and then foller her out here for nothin’. I’m bound to have her, and if you don’t come down from thar, we'll starve you down. Ef you're a mind to give her and Crooked Pegs up, I'll say nothin’ to the rest; but ef you don't, ’1ldo whatI said. That’s all.” “Provided, Redzel, you can. There is no use in bandying words. I will not enlarge upon your virtues, Sam. What if Wandaught did save your neck from the hangman. several times ; what if he kept your cowardly hair from your ‘friends’; of course, if he under- takes to protect an innocent being from as foul a wretch as ever breathed, offcourse, I say, you ought to hunt h'm down like adog. This, you know, is just. 1 will not say anything, Sam, except I am pretty firmly convinced that you have no sense, or you would never come here to prate as you are now doing.” ‘Then you don’t.agree to what I offer?” questioned Redzel, eagerly, moving stealthily nearer his rifle. ‘“‘Nover ask again, for you always will be told No!” replied Summerfield, stepping quick- ly and quietly back from view. ‘«By thunder?” exclaimed Seth, in a half whisper, ‘you missed getting a hole through you that time by a close rub.” ‘That's so,” added Vic, ‘if you’d stood ’no- ther second you'd ’ve tumbled back. That fel- ler meant sunkthin’ by bringin’ his shooter with him. Sam’ll do anything, and the meaner a thing the sooner,” ‘He has got to be shot afore he’s out of our way,” said Wandaught. ‘He'd follow Sum- merfield and Viola to the States ef they should git away from him now, and stick ’em both some night. I’m sorry, but {'m sure now, to git out of his way, we've got to git him out of our way fust.” Nothing worth recording transpired through the day. Noattack was made, and it was plain that Redzel inténded to follow out his threat to the very letter. The savages remained at a good distance, some reclining upon the ground, others lounging leisurely about, and all dis- posed to enjoy themselves as best they might. In the afternoon, Vic and Wandaught com- menced firing at the Indians, and succeeded in picking off several. Seth saw one leap and grasp the air, that he was certain was Redzel ; but Wandaught assured him that it was not ; and the savages ‘finding how much they were exposed withdrew well beyond their reach, The weather remained cold and windy, and finally a xaw, gloomy night settled over the prairie, fais Redzel, feeling confident that no attempt would be made to escape during the night, had but one fire kindled ; yet, with customary caution, a number of the Indians prowled around the rock to see that the fugitives en- deavored to carry out no plan they might have concerted. All but Summerfield took their stations again. He, seeing that his presence was not needed, seated himself beside Viola. While conversing with her, he noticed that the two hunters were talking together in a low and earnest tone. When thoy ceased, Vannoven stood a few moments buried in deep thought, and then facing around, said : Ne Boys, we've a chance, and it’s time to take it ~ CHAPTER XIX. FRIENDS AND SOMETHING MORB Sommerrren, and Seth gazed up in aston ishment. ‘They knew that some new and un- expected scheme had been decided upon from his manner, and that immediate action had been determined. Wandaught commenced walking slowly and cautivasly around the edge of the rock, scrutinizing every foot of ground that was possible. “Yas, voys,” said Vic, ‘‘thar’s a new idea ‘round, We've got neighbors not far off, be- sides these chaps down here. Jist stand up here and yon kin see.” As he spoke, he arose and pointed out upon the prairie. It was so dark that they could just follow the line of his finger ; and follow- ing this they saw, far away, a small, bright fire burning, appetring in the distance but a small brand or poimt of flame ; yet they knew it was | } Somer A , . ‘ Pie Ba : a Pay ty rim a Me Tia Peas ie aie eck the caimp-fire of some body of persons, Sag rays from it came over the plain, like the moon’s light upon the water. After gazing steadily at thisa moment or two, they: their eyes toward the fire of Redzel, which was. in a slightly different direction. Several forma were visible around this, stretched, in apparent sleep, upon the earth, but all else was shrouded _ in the impenetrable darkness, ‘Do yer see that, little one?” asked Vie. ‘Yes, very distinctly,” she returned. ** Wal, let’s squat agin, and I'll tell yer what's. to be done.” And doing this, he proceeded : : “That fire off thar b’longs to either red- skins or whites, and I opine to the whites, coz ef they war Engins, these down here would’ve- found ’em out by this time ; but ef they war whites, they’d lot em go, fur they've got thar hands full now. Jim says they’re white, too, and the idee is this—one of us cangitaway __ from here easy enough, and we must git out thar and bring ’em down here. and we'll have some tall times here to-morrer. As Crooked Pegs, here, am so good in gittin’ over the ground, I think he’s the chap to go.” «‘Them’s my sentiments exactly!” respond- __ ed Seth, enthusiastically, starting up as though he were to go the next moment. , \ ‘* Wait ; set down,” said Vic, ‘‘thar’s no need of bein’ in a eign Now, as you're goin’, we'll fix up matters. ua kin git away from here easy ‘nough, but in course you've got to be sly bout it. Wal, hyer’s what yer to do: When you git outside of these things, dig like mad fur the camp, I guess you kin see it from — the ground, but ef you can't, don’t matter, ‘cause you know whith way to go, and kin see it after sia. alittle. When you git thar, ef they're white, bring 'em down; ef they're red, in course, let’em go. Jist fore you start. back with ’em throw some of the fire up, 86 we'll know all is right, and you've started ; and a when you git out close by, jist give that whis- tle of yourn, to let us know you're "bout ; we'll be ’spectin’ yer then.” While Vic was speaking, Seth stood panting like a restrained hound, so anxious seemed he to be off upon his way. As the trapper pausod he started off like an arrow. ‘Hyer |" called Vic, impatiently, ‘* what's the matter? You don’t want yer shooter. Jiat see that yer knives are all right, and then dig. You'd better not go down thar, as they mought — be lookin’ for some of us, but jist drop over by Jim.” ‘* Now; Seth, be careful,” said Viola, jmpres- sively placing her hand upon his shoulder. ‘Don’t bu afraid for me,” he returned cheer-_ folly. . ‘And be cautious in approaching the stran- - gers, whoever thev may be,” added Summerfield. “fit these chaps down here should happen to catch you,” sail Wandaught, earnestly, as Seth stood by his side, ‘‘jist raise an all-tired’ yell, and we'll be down thar and bring gn ond. ie to this botherin’.” , Seth paused a second, waiting for what else was to be said, and then, uttering a quick ‘*good-by,” leaped a and fearlessly over and disappeared, noiselessly away in the darkness ; and as the fugitives listened a long time, and heard no unwonted commotion among the savages be- iow, they knew that Seth was safely. upon his. way toward the distant campre. As has been said, Redzel aad the Indians had little fear of the fugitives attempting a fli¢ht, and, in fact, abandoned nearly all the precaution they had taken heretofore to prevent it, Consequently Seth had not much difficul in eluding them, although he passed sevé times in close proximity to one or two Indians, But, in twenty minutes from starting, he waa out upon the prairie, bounding over it, like a shot froma cannon. He had been so confined and cramped for the last few hours that he felt a luxury in running and leaping again at freedom, and the enjoyment was delicious. He tried his usual canter, then a peculiar trot original with himself, and then wheeling sud- the least, continuing his running backward, lift- ing his heels as though he were going up hiil This, however, was dangerous, for, striking some obstruction, he well nigh dislocated his neck in a fall that followed. He felt an almost ungovernable desire to give several shouts or ells, but had enough prudence to, restrein imself ; but his antics were bo wild and way. ward to be described here. __ in In the course of half an hour, he war mers » EO Tena wee’. andaught gazed down — after him nnd saw him rise unhurt and steal — Pai otha wt A denly around without checking his speed im if
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£6 The Fighting Trapper. ase “ iat zee eee oes the camp-fire as he durst approach. It was barning vigorously, but he could not detect a sinyle being around it. He discerned several buridles, or imagined he did, partly in its light, but he could not make outa single one He made a complete circle arcund the camy and even then had not seen a human being. This led him considerably. Plunging his hands ito his ee spreading his feet apart, and dropping his head, he commenced ruminating tpon the wisest course to follow. Before he sad formed any conclusion, he was startled by the commanding question : ** White or red?” «‘White—white as gun-flints!” he returned, imstantly approaching the ‘ira. As he did so, a “i on of forms came from opposite directions in darkness, and stood around him. One was a large, massive, loose-jointed, bony speci- men, full six feet in height, who held a mon- strous rifle in one hand, and a huge piece of tobacco in the other, from which he twisted s prodigious mouthful as unconcernedly as Soagh he saw no one before him. Seth gazed wounderingly at his gigantic frame, and, with his instinctive knowledge of human nature, rightly concluded that he was an honest- hearted hunter and trapper; and, as he noticed his ponderous shoulders and great swelling chest, he felt he had already gained a valuable ally. He had large innocent eyes, a broad bat pleasant mouth, a homely nose, and a few straggling, yellow hairs upon his unshaven face. He was an individual, as he termed gimself, ‘‘ extensively laid out.” The other was aman of about the medium ize, with a smooth, cheerful face, bright, - pleasant eyes, and a peculiar ease and grace- fulness of motion that made his impression al- ways favorable at first. Seth also noticed another person, who had risen to the sitting position as the others had gathered around, and he observed, too. that he himself was re- garded with interest and no evidence of mis- trust. ‘Wal, friend,” said the second mentioned individual, ‘‘ what’s the story?” “ Well, quite a considerable one. In the first place, I will introduce myself. I am Seth Pot- ter, Esq., and was born some years since in the town of Lubec, state of Maine. I am a dele- te, or, more properly, a committee, elected y & unan:mous vote, without a dissenting voice, to coufer with you, and that is my busi- ness at present. The truth is this, friends, have all seen that big rock some miles off, n't you ?” “Yes,” returned they, interested in his nar- ration. : ‘* Well, three or four days ago, me and three other gentlemen got chased by Engins, and were drove up there, where we have been ever wince. There's thirty or forty of them, camped sround that rock, led on by a white devil. They have tried to get up among us two or three times, but can’t come it, and have made ap their minds to starve us out, They have got our horses, so we can’t run away, and, you see, we're ina scrape. Well, we'd concluded to do something mighty despirit, when one of our chaps happened to set eyes upon your fire here, and made up his mind you were white, and uominated me, on account of my superior qualities, to visit you, and I’m here for that purpose.” “Didn't I tell yer, Jake,” said the smaller \person, addressing the larger, ‘ there's sunk- thin’ wrong up that way, just afore dark ?” ‘“¥-a-s, b’leve yer did say sunk’in’ or other ‘bout it,” replied the Hoosier, discharging a mouthful of tobacco-juice in the fire, thereby blacking a large quantity of the glowing em- bers. During Seth’s narration, a third person had arisen to his feet, a finely-formed, middle-aged man, with a melancholy expression upon his countenance, who regarded Seth with much interest. «« Wal, friend,” continued the smaller man, »ddressing Seth, ‘‘you’re in trouble, and in eourse, we're bound to be in it too. We are weady to go with yer, ain't we, boys ?” st oe 1’ drawled the larger man, taking an- other chew “ Will you go with us?” asked Seth of the man ‘who had not as yet spoken. “Of course,” he returned, in a softened voice. ‘It would be criminal not to assist friends when hard pressed, as you say you ‘ Well, s’pose we tramp, then!” ae With this the four started, after replenishing picketed ‘but a short distance off. Seth led them, and was as loquacious as usual as long as there was no probability of his being over- heard by any of Mis enemies. In the meantime, Waudaught and the others had kept their eyes continually upon the dis- tant camp-fire. Viola stood beside him, also | watching it. Suddenly he turned to her, and asked : “ Vily, are yer peepers good ?” “‘Why, yes; I believe so,” she answered. “‘Why did you ask that question ?” ‘* Wal, I want yer to watch that fire, to see whether yer don’t see nothin’.” She kept her eyes upon it, as also did Sum- merfield and Vic most of the time. A long time after, Wandaught asked : ‘‘ Have any of you see nothin’ ?” «*T have discerned the fire, that is all?” an- swered Viola. «That is all I have seen,” said Summerfield. “T hain’t sean nothin’ more nor that,” Van- noven also added. ‘« Wal, ole Jim’s peepers am the best, then,” said Wandaught, pleasantly, ‘far I’ve seen Crooked Pegs throw a piece of fire up into the air three times, and none of you hain’t seen nothin’ of it.” All admitted that the power of Wandaught’s keen orbs was wonderful. Vic said he ‘‘allers knowed he could see jist as fur as he’s a mind to,” and Summerfield who had heretofore had some doubts of their being superior to his own, freely admitted their superiority. An hour after, when there was a deathly stillness over the prairie, the fugitives heard the suppressed signal of Seth. Wandaught returned it, and a few minutes after he and Summerfield saw several dark forms at the base of the rock. « All right!” whispered Wandaught. An instant after, Seth with two or three bounds stood among them; then came the Hoosier, who appeared to absolutely take but one straddle to reach the top ; then the elder- ly one, who clambered noiselessly up, and fi- nally the smaller person, who came up as nim- bly and quickly as a panther. ‘‘ Wal, friends,” said the latter, cheerfully, as he stood among them, ‘we're here to help yer.” «And we’re most mighty glad you've come,” said Vic, approaching and extending his hand. As the person addressed took his hand, he looked closely at him, and asked : * Ain’t this Vic Vannoven?” “That's my handle, but you've got the best of me. I don’t know yours.” ‘Now, don't yer?” asked the stranger, in a clear, half feminine voice, and with a suppress- ed laugh. Vie bent forward, and scrutinized his fea- tures as closely as he could in the darkness. «“T’ve heard that voice,” he repeated, slow ly. Yes, skin me,” he exclaimed, starting back. ‘Is that you, Krr Carson?” “That's my name,” he returned, enjoying the start of wonder among the others. “What! are you Kit Carson?” asked Seth, hardly believing his senses. ‘Yes; that’s my name, I b'lieve.” «“Darned if I hain’t read about you in the newspapers, Guy! I didn’t think I'd ever seo you. ey say you're something uncommon.” “Let me make you ‘quainted with my friends,” said Carson. ‘This feller is Jake Gavin, from Illinois ; and this is a friend that’s goin’ back to the States.” Vannoven grasped each of their hands and returned the cordial pressure, and in turn in- troduced his own company. «IT s’pose you know this chap,” said he, al- luding to Seth, ‘so I'll pass him. Do you know Jim Wandaught, Kit?” “T b'lieve not.” “Wal, this ar him. He’s a good beaver, but wont shake paws.” Wandaught returned the salutation of each, and then resumed his place as sentinel. “This are George Somefield.” «Glad to see you!” said Carson, taking his hand. Summerfield felt honored, indeed, as he grasped the soft palm of the most renowned Indian fighter the world ever produced. He answered him gracefully, and then shook hands with the Hoosier, who gaye a brief ‘‘How’r i ?” and with the other man, who seemed ittle disposed to converse. “How do you do?” said Seth, approaching Carson, determined to enjoy the privilege the others had. Oarson answered him good-hu- moredly, and shook his hand warmly. Vic turned to introduce Viola, but she had withdrawn to her nook. “ Wal, Vio, what's to be done?” asked Oar- son, turning toward him. «We're treed, you see, Kit?” “You four fellers treed by a few red- skins!” repeated Carson, with sarcasm in hig tone. «<We wouldn’t’ve beenif we war alone ; but, you see, 8 woman’s in the matter,” ans Vic, pointing toward Viola. “ on, that’s it!” said Carson, lowering his voice, with his natural gallantry, and gazing toward her. “You see,” said Vic; speaking confideritially, «‘ we're bound to take care of her. We got her away from that cussed white snake, and he’s been follerin’ us a week to git her. Ef we'd bin alone, we'd ’ve blowed him to blazes ‘fore this, but we darsen’t leave her to do it, the ste 4 things stand now. But, bein’ you're here, we drop down on ’em in the mornin’, and there'll be the tallest kind o’ fun.” : «« How long yer been here?” « This ar the second En deep «Don’t you want sunkthin’ revivin’ like ? «« Wouldn’t mind it, that’s a fact.” ‘‘ Here, Jake!” called Carson. “A little spe- rits is wantin’.” The Hoosier approached and produced from some unseen pocket a capacious flask of bran- dy, which he handed to Vic. He took several swallows, and passed it to Wandaaght, who, in turn, handed it to the others. Seth took a rather large quantity, for it was a long time since hé had tasted spirits. Summerfield ap- proached Viola, and compelled her to take a small quantity, for he knew she needed it as well as himself. After this it was returned to ihe ae with its contents seemingly undimin- ishe Curson, Vic, and Wandaught, remained on duty during the night, while the othérs dis- posed themselves as best they could. Nothing of note occurred during the night. Redzel kept his fire burning brightly, and when some Indian approached and replenished it, he seemed to be the only living object in the neighborhood, so still and gloomy was everything around. The camp-fire of Cites could be’ seen until near morning, when it died out. He and Vic remained in earnest conversation the whole night, interrupted now and then by quien draughts from the friendly flask that served them once before. They were old acquaintances and friends, and enjoy- ed each other’s society as only two’ genuine trappers can. Vannoven seemed to have en- tirely lost all antipathy to the companionship of his fellow-beings that he evinced when wa first made hig acquaintance. The prorpect ot the next day’s occurrences, added to the effecte of the flask referred to, made another }‘erson of him. Wandaught acted strangely. He sat at sume distance from them, hardly moving %r speak ing through the whole night. ~ He refured vo partake of the brandy, and seemed to wisi that he might be left entirely to himself. Finally morning dawned upon them, nd there was a movement among the Indians i s- low. But as they beheld the forms upon ths rock, they concluded that all was right, ana sunk back again into a sort of half sluggish, indifferent slumber. Redzel was not sevn. Summerfield was the first to arise He greeted Wandaught warmly, but receiving np reply, approached and laid his hand familiarly on his shoulder. ‘The trapper turned and mut+ tered a good morning, then lay down upon thu spot where Summerfield had spent the night and in a few moments was asleep. Summer. field passed on and greeted Vie and Carson, each of whom returned his salutation with much friendliness and pleasure. Afew minutes after, the Hoosier slowly arose, and deliberately stretched his great . body, with a yawn that sounded like the groan of some dying animal His next moverjent ° was to place his hand in his pocket for his old friend the flask. Not finding it there he started, with the exclamation ; ««Whar’s my gun?” Hearing a laugh from Vic, he tunwd it His direction, and received itfrom him. He ism- ifested no ill nature at having been deprived of it, but merely took a strong pull, replacing it in his capacious pocket, he stepped t the wall, and leaning lazily over it, gazed dcwn A few moments after, Summerfieli feli a hand laid upon his shoulder, and looking up, saw the middle-aged man spoken of standing by his side. There was a deathly paleness — a al SN iar: the fire and visiting their animals, which were Or ae Bape re 3 es -
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! ; i ;, - meditate some immediate action, gponm his features, and his whole system was terribly convulsed by emotion. ’ ‘*What is her name ?” he asked, pointing din quivering finger toward the’ sleeping form ef Viola. “Viola Vennond,” returned Summerfield. “0 God! so I thought,” he added, turning ‘et paler, as if fainting. Summerfield sprang est and caught him. ««What is the meaning of this? What is she do y-u?” asked he, eagerly. ** ke is my daughter /” he returned, recover- himself. “How is this?” asked Summerfield, hardly snowing what he said. ‘*Why plain enough. I am her father.” At this point Viola awoke. *« Ask her to come here,” said the'man, in a pleasing tone, at the same time turning his |. ack toward her. “Viola, step this way a moment,” called Summerfield. She tripped lightly forward, her radiant form all aglow with pleasure. «Let me introduce you to your father.” ‘* What is that?” Summerfield made no reply, for her father had tnrned his face toward her. Viola's face flushing a moment as she gazed bewilderingly into his face, and the next instant she sprang forward and was clasped in his arms. ‘Their joy was too great for utterance, and their mu- tmal sobs were all that was heard. Summer- field turned away, not wishing to interfere with or interrupt sucha scene. The others, who had witnessed it, comprehended its mean- ing, and showed their participation in their pleasure by a respectful silence. ‘Gosh a’mighty! what's the matter?” ques- tioned Seth, starting up and gaping wonder- ingly at them. “The little one is dead, and he’s tryin’ to cevive her,” replied Vic, gravely. ‘Here, you, you can’t do her any good that way,” said Seth, earnestly, striving to separate them. But Summerfield pulled him quiet to one side and admonished him to let them alone. As the father released the daughter, the others removed their gaze, and permitted them to seat themselves without being interrupted by any rude stare of theirs. They remained sented full an hour, engaged in earnest, thrill- ing conversation. Viola related the whole particulars of her life since their mutual sepa- ration up to the present moment, not omitting a single particular that she could recall. And the fatber stated the principal incidents of his. He had remained in Oregon a number of years, succeeding better than he anticipated, until he determined to send for his daughter to come to bim.- He had sent for her, and’ hearing nothing of her for a long time, made up his mind to visit the States himself. When about to start, he felt such a desire to leave the new country he was in, and spend the remainder of his days in his native state, that he dispos- ed of his possessions and set out with that in- tention. He accompanied a number of emi- grants ing, discouraged and gloomy, to their homés again. They proceeded so slowly, that he could hardly restrain his impatience, and gladly joined.a couple of trappers who overtook them one day. He had been with ‘them but three days when he discovered his fong lost daughter. A short time more was spent in conversation, when the father arose and addressed the others. ‘* My friends, you will pardon this exhibition of feeling which I have given, when I explain it. Little did I dream last night, when I ceached this spot, that ‘had found my long- lost daughtor, whom I had not seen for years. However, such was the fact, aud a short time since, for the first time, I was made aware of it. I have not concealed the heavenly, the perfect joy which it has given me. She has told me the whole circumstances of the noble pl ips have manifested in her behalf, I cannot thank you now asI should, but I will gesure you, Mr. Vannoven, Mr. Potter, and the friend who lies sleeping there, that, when we reach the States again, 1 will manifest my gratitude in a more substantial way than b bare naked thanks, And, Mr, Summertield, from the depths of my overflowing heart, I thank you deeply, earnestly and fervently; for, to you four, under Heaven, is the preser- vation of my daughter owing. I see that you “i vA Let it not be delayed longer, and let me assistyou in car- rying it out. ‘Pray, say nothing,’’ he added, as Summerfield and Vic were about to speak, “Ta I: ppreciate everything you have done, and Le pee Se hee , . - _per turned his face toward Redzel, and de- do not wish intention.” «But let mo say,” persisted Summerfield, “that I deserve no thanks. I have done nothing. These three others have saved my life and your daughter's also.” «See here, Somedield,” interrupted Vic, “et you tell ’nuther such whopper as that, I'll pee you headfust over fur the varmints down ar.” “T understand it all,” said Mr. Vennond, smiling at these remarks. “Tl do’t!” added Vis, with a threatening motion of his head. ‘It seems to me,” observed Seth, ‘that it’s getting time to do something. The En- gins down below, and Mr. Redzel, will get out of patience.” **Mr. who?” asked Vennond, with a start, “Mr, Sam Redzel, the gentleman that’s trying to cut me and Mr. Summerfield out of your daughter's affections,” “He is the one who hes pursued her thus far, and to whom she has referred, without mentioning his name ?” ; “The same.” *T understand everything now. It was not all love and passion that has led him to fol- low you thus far, It was vindictive hatred, revenge |” ‘What do you mean, father?” asked Viola, earnestly. ‘«Never mind, darling. It is nota story for your ears, At any rate not until Sam Redzel, your mortal enemy, is dead, But go on, friends, at is the intention, Carson?” ‘We're goin’ to make a rush down among ’em—” ‘*Hallo! up thar!” came the voice of Red- zel at this moment. Carson paused, and Vio gazed down to see what was wanting. «* Whar’s Jim Wandaught ?” he asked. , s: He's here. What do you want to know ‘or ” “*T want to talk with him a moment.” Accordingly Summerfield stooped and gen- tly awoke Wandanght, and communicated the intelligence to hie you to depreciate it, as seems your OHAPTER XX. THA PRESENTIMENT’S FULFILMENT. As soon as Wandaught understood what was wanted, he sprang without hesitation upon the wall, his fine muscular form standing out in relief against the sky. Seth, out of curiosity, looked over, and seeing that Redzel held his rifle in his hand, whispered : ty air nya drop that gun before you talk to y ** You'd better do’t,” added Vic. ‘‘Sartainly, friend, don’t stand that,” joined Carson, and Summerfield also said : ‘For Heaven's sake, Wandaught, don’ run into such danger as that.” But Wandaught, instead of receiving these friendly warnings as he would at any other time, appeared slightly touched and displeas- ed that all should offer advice to him, and, without following their entreaties, simply re- turned: ‘Sam won't do nothin’ mean to me,” The others said nothing more, and the trap- manded : “Wal, Sam, what you want of me ?” ‘Jim, I wants to ax one favor.” “Wal, out with it; if I kin give it, I will” “Tn the fust place, me and you are old friends, ain't we ?” “Tn course, and I hope we allers will be.” ‘“We've been together considerable ?” That's a fact, and Ive done yousome good turns, hain’t I?” u «Yeah ; and I've allers felt good’eal of grat- ertude fur it.” ; *« Glad to hear it.” «« And I don’t want to quarrel with yer, Jim, nuther.” - “Nor me with you; but what's yer favor you've been tallin’ bout?” “Wal, Jim, bein’ you’n me are such fast friends, 1 want to ask yer if you won't do yer best to put that gal and Crooked Pegs in my hands! Cuss it! I’m tired of waitin’; I mought as well had her the last two, three days and nights I’ve been here.” ; There was a suppressed laugh from those behind Wandaught when they heard this. Hoe answered : PB iy Gaia, T viuut ter ey yor sae favor.” “Wal, what is it, my ole friend ?” “I don’t want yer to ever ax me that agin.” “Why don't yer want that ax’d?” oor «Cause it won’t do no good.” ‘ Eh «What, won't yer grant me that little favor® | «Why, Sam, would it be tho right thing?” < * Ar’ yer goin’ ter grant it?” he interrupted, impetuously. ay “T told you no, fur if I did—” i3 Wandaught’s words were interrupted at thir point by the sharp crack of a rifle, and, pla cing his hand to his breast, he stepped qu atly down, saying : ‘**T’m done for, boys!” As they saw the deathl: pate his face, and the crimson blo ibbling through . his fingers, they understood al. Summerfiohkd, sprang forward, and, catching himin hisarma = asked what he knew was the truth ; h “My God! Wandanght, are you shot?” — “Yas; I’ve got my last shot; bat dont make any fuss over it. It can’t be helped.” And the trapper, refusing assistance, seated himself upon his blanket, and reclim ing a second, finally lay down with one hang beneath his head, as though he were sleeping. During the movement, a sharp cloud of Fw "y brushed over his features, and his hand waa — displaced from the wound in his breast. A streaming gush of blood bubbled out when it was removed, and he vainly endeavored to stay it. Vennond and Summerfield sprane forward and did their best to assist him, AF The two closed hands, and each turned their heads. Vannoven never saw him again inthis world. He stepped away, carefully peta ay; his face, but his hereulean strength and w a could not conceal his terrible emotion, a ‘And now, Vily, a good-by to you. [have — died for you, but 1 would die agin a li la times for such a dear, sweet, Little creature. ib Once in a while think of old Wandaught, when — he’s gone, and when you git up above ax & i I » see me the fust one. Good-by. } ie ““Good-by. Oh!—” ey She could say no more, but returned car and his attributes, as we understand him ; never, — since a mere child had he visited a house of worship ; yet, in the great wilderness, with no human being near, ho had seen and felt an im visible Power, and his simple heart had goye up in earnest adoration, In the silent mid~ night hour he had lain and watched the gom geous constellations of Heaven, and felt that the same Power held them in theirplaces. the wild perils of his life, something told him that his preservation was duo to no strength of his own; and the memory of oa sainted ‘mother, that had told him, away back in sinless days of childhood, of a wonderful gion of happiness that he might visit at some time, had never been forgotten, His hand had more than once been restrained by no will his own, and the gentle voice of conscience was ever heard. And we repeat, that we bo- lieve his petals ty at this moment within thas glorious clime, " te Summerfield and Vennond were the } ones beside Viola who saw him die, She not realize it, and looked up inquiringly to b father, as she saw how filmy and glassy W: daught’s eyes had become. ; ‘He is dead,” he answered softly, Then she ‘gently lifted his head from he lap, and Summeréield and her fasher carrii the inanimate form to the wall, and there de positing him tenderly upon his blanket, covers ed his form with another, and, without speak i turned to Carson and Vannoyern to 898 — what was to be done next. The latter had choked back his grief, and there was a : calmness upon his features. «Sam Redzel ape in a tone that was awf bil AB Ate 2 aaah Oy Doviug Daihen t
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_ B8 The Fighting Trapper. So oe eee eee folded over the muzzle of his rifle, gazing stoically at the covering of Wandaught. Sud- denly he turned around and spoke : “Boys, I've one favor to ask of you. Jim was my friend Sam ltedzel has killed him, and swore that-he’ll have my life too. The first chance you see to shoot that viper, let me know. Let me do it, and that will be all I All-promised that his wish should be grati- fied. On the side of the wall toward the say- ages were several orifices that were large enough to admit the barrel of a rifle, yet they were so irregular, and the wall was of such thickness, that the position of the gun could be raised but slightly. ‘They had been con- structed, it seemed, for the purpose of firing upon an enemy at some distance. As the say- ages were now congregated, they stood before this, and at the very point where a shot could be made to reach them. The Hoosier placed himself before one of the apertures and gazed intently upon them. It was hardly five min- utes before he turned and exclaimed : ‘*Ha’r’s yer chance !” Seth sprang forward and peered through. There, directly before his vision, he saw Sam * Redzel standing and pointing toward the rock, and gesticulating madly, as though giving di- rections to his savage allies. With hardly the pe ae quiver, he pushed his rifle through, and, dropping upon his knee, took deliberate aim at the villain’s breast. Every breath was held as his finger pressed the trigger. Seth fired baer and waited to see its effect. His nerves, spite of his forced calmness, were somewhat ansteady, and the shot was not as good as he e ted. ‘et it was mortal! As the smoke cleared away, he saw Redzel stagger a moment, fling his arms wildly above him, and, with a half howl and shriek, and an awful oath, pitch for- ward upon his face! He saw this, as did the others, and, with a calmness that was certainly 7s Sg to say the least, he drew his rifle fo and turning to Vannoven, said, in tones soarcely loud enough to be heard : “Pye kWed him! What are you going to do next?” . We're goin’ to kill the rest,” returned Vic. sl n we imbibe, friend.” e Hoosier produced his exhaustless flask, and each took a long draught. Vannoven then stepped to the opposite side, and, with the as- sistance of Carson, -rolle 1 a large stone from its e. This done, he spoke: «We must hop down thar and make a rush. Bee that yer knives and shootin irons are ready.” mt signified thuir readiness, and, withont more words, Vic dropped silently to the earth, Then came Carson, followed by Gavin, Van- nond, Seth, and Summerfield. The latter paused a moment to speak to Viola. He as- sured her that the deciding blow had been given in the death of Redzel, and they were going to but finish the work, and that there ‘was no feats of the result, He then leaped over. The leadership, by mutual consent, had been even to Carson. He stood as caim and col- lected as though he were noavenger! Gazing around upon each, he spoke in that low musical voice of his. ‘See that all is right. Blaze away as soon BS ete see’em. Now!” he uttered the last word, he bounded away, and almost simultaneously six human forms shot around the rock, six rifles were discharged, and as many savages rolled writh- Ing in their own blood! Then, like as many erazed animals, they bounded over the inter- vening ground, and in an instant were among their enemies raging like lions over their prey. The battle was short, but so terrible that no pen cxm describe it. The savages, instead of withdrawing upon the fall of their leader, main- tained their ground with determined obsti- naecy; and, at the moment the six whites burst upon them, were preparing for another stiempt to dislodge the fugitives. The on- alaught of the Jatter was so sudden that it was fatal. They were thrown into confusion, yet, in spite of it, madea bold stand, and struggled with the fury of desperation. And thus it was contested, and thus it was gained. No earthly power could have with- siood that charge of the whites. Seth Potter was so insane with excitement that he could tiever recall the slightest incident of the fight after hearing the command of Kit Carson. He da savage the first one, and slew him as © ooo an infant, then sprang into the air with a yell, and brandishing his rifle over his head, leaped upon another and bore him to the ground, ‘Thus he fought, impelled by the un- controllable passion that was burning him up. Vannoven and Summerfield remained side by side, and fought with more coolness than any, yet there was a fierceness about their move- ments that never before possessed them. The Hoosier went at it like some ponderous machine, working wildly from the excess of power that was driving him forward. He scemed to push instead of strike, and pull in- stead of jerk, yet no obstruction or impediment could avail against his irresistible strength. He appeared actually at times to crush an¢ break the Indians in two! And all the time his huge jaw continued regularly closing upon an enormous mouthful of tobacco, and once or twice he ejected large quantities of juice in the face of his struggling victim ! Vic Vannoven, for the time being, was a de- mon in his fury. The first blow he made, he drove his knife through and through the body of an Indian ; and, as it slipped from his grasp, he wheeled around and brought a blow with such force in the face of another, that it was ‘absolutely’orushed to a jelly! A terrific kick gent another a dozen feet, doubled up like a knot in his agony ; and as he drew his other knife, he plunged deliriously at the othera His siaple grasp appeared sufficient to mash the very bones of his enemies, and not a wavage could stand for at instant before the ing madman. And yet Kit Carson, the small, gentlemanly agent at Santa Fe, performed more incredible wonders than this! ‘There was not the wild tmpetuosity in his movements that character- ized those of Vannoven ; but there was an in- conceivable celerity and quickness, more fatal in in its results than his. He fought with a knife in either hand, leaping in every direction with an agility that was astonishing, and un- equalled by the others. There is a feat that is sometimes performed by the trappers in the West upon horseback, yet few indeed are those who ever acquire the necessary dexterity to accomplish it. The trapper, in making his charge, takes a knife in each hand, and, lowering his head, urges his horse directly between two savages, and in the passage slays them both! Very few in- deed can do this, and yet Kit Carson did it on foot? At two separate times he slew t<o of his enemies at the same instant. Such terrible slaughter could not last long. In a few moments the remaining savages broke and fled. Eight only were able to avail them- selves of this resource, and it availed yet no- thing. As they leaped away, they were fol- lowed by Carson, the Hoosier, and Vannoyen, who slaughtered them ag they ran! Summerfield, Vennond and Seth halted and drew breath as they saw not an Indian upon his feet, All were stretched before them, either dead or dving! When they had reated, Summerfield arose and gazed after his corupanions ; but the pur- suit of the Indians had carried them beyond his sight, and he proposed to the others to await thet return upon the rock. As they were starting, Seth said : “Boys, I don’t see that Redzel around hera Can't be he’s run off with the others, and if he hasn’t, where is he'” They examined each form, and true enough indeed was it that Redzel was gone! All were uzzled to account for this. Seth, in his opin- ion of the villain, really believed the Evil One had assisted him bodily away. Summerfield, indeed, feared that Redzel had escaped, and that all trouble with him was not yet over. Tull of these feelings, the three approached the rock. Viola stood waiting them, and had witnessed all of the fearful contest. She had seon the fight of the savages and the pursuit, and knew that none of her friends had been plain. Yet the awful groans that reached her ears, and the terrible scenes she saw, prevent- ed anything lixea joyous feeling. She indeed was glad that the savages had been routed, but mourned peas that it was accomplished by annihilation only. As Summerficid passed around the rock, he recoiled with shivering horror at the sight that met his gaze. There, stretched upou the earth, lay the still gasping form of Redzel! He was bleeding profusely from the wound that Seth had given him. He had stopped the flow with his hand until he reached the rock, against which he crept! hoping to die without being | seen by any one, Singularly enough, his wound was nearly in the same place as Wan- daught’s, varying enough only to prolong hia torture. His hands and clothes were dabbled in his blood, and there was a ghastly horror ip his appearance that was awful! As his rolling eyes met those of the others, a sudden pang of the acutest torture shot over his features. All feelings of hatred or revenga were driven from the hearts of the observers as they gazed upon this sickening spectacle Summerfield felt for the mjserable wretch, and gag and asked, in a sympathising one : **Can I do anything for you, Redzel?” He made a strong effort to speak, bu his mouth was too full of blood, and only a gur- gling moan escaped him. He, however, mv- tioned feebly with his left hand for Sanxmer- field to remove his right, which was lying be- neath him. He raised him teudsrly, and as he Pagers the hand forth, thg Zyiag wretch, gathering his strength, struck savagely at the breast of his friend, passing so close as to eut his garment! Seeing that he had failed, he fell back, with a half-uttered oath that sent the blood from. his mouth in every direction, and gave up in despair. ‘* Kill the infernal snake!” exclaimed Seth, clubbing his rifle, and raising it to brain him upon the spot. Summerfield caught his arm. ** You are’ saved that trouble. He is dead!’ ‘He is with his Maker,” said Vennond, sol- rong “*We have nothing more to do with im. ’ They then ascended the rock, where Viola was anxiously aise 3 them. She had seem Redzel crawling painfully toward, and had known, although she could not witness, that he had died near her. As they reached the top of the rock, fhey looked out, and faraway could see Vannoven returning. But he was alone, on horseback, and leading four others. This occasioned much wonderment, and none could account for it, except by the supposition that Carson and his companion were returning at some distance behind. But when Vic reined up be-~ neath them, no other person was in sight. «“Where’s Carson and Gavin?” asked Sum- merfield, looking down upon him. ‘Half way to Independence’ by thix time, Kit came ’eross some fellers, who.said he war wanted most blastedly out thar, and he ’cluded to start without waitin’ for us.” In the attack there had been a stampede of the animals belonging to the Indians, and they were flying over the prairie in every di- rection. The Hoosier secured a couple, upon which he and Carson continued their pursuit. Vic also secured one, upon wlch he was ena- bled to capture several others, and with which, as has been shown, he returned. *‘ Well,” continue? Summerfield, ‘‘ how soon shall we leave?” * Right off.” cee must bury Wandaught, you know, st.” ¢ At this Vic dismounted, and, securing his animals, ascended the rock. The form of the dead a was then lifted and borne gentiy down, followed by Viola. After a few minutes consultation, it was determined to bury him within a few feet of where he had been slain. Accordingly all set to work, and with much labor, scooped out a grave sufficiently deep to contain him. Into this he was placed, and, while the others bowed their heads in sorrow and reverence, Summerfield knelt and uttered a petition to high Heaven. ‘This done, thoy commenced covering his body, and, as in a few minutes it was hid from-their sight, not one could repress the tears that rose to,his eyes. Not a word was spoken as the earlh was packed over him, and when finished theg turned toward Vannoven. “Now git on,” said “he, .‘‘and let's leave this place.” «Wait a minute,” said Summerfield, ‘le¢ us give Redzel a burial also. We shall never regret it.” As he spoke, he passed around the base ef the rock, and the others instinctively followed. Vie gave a perceptible start when he saw the frightful appearance the dead body presented. All set to work vigorously, and in a short time. another grave was dug, into which Vennond and Summerfield deposited the form of Red- - zel. Neither Seth nor Vic would touch it. And now occurred ,8 most singular and un- accountable circumstance. Just as they step- ped back to throw the earth again into the grave, all were-starsled by hearing the angry warning of the rattlesnake : hn ag IE
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:) a “aes AS Si) oy segreroe ==— “Jump, boys,” called Vic, ‘‘thar he comes !” A sprang away, sud as they gazed back they Jaw a monstrous rattlesnake, uearly black in ts hue, and whose swelling body seemed covered with glittering scales, slowly gliding from beneath the rock, and, with head erect, approaching them! . All ran a short distance, and stood ready to shoot the reptile, and yet pausing through some peculiar feeling that took possession of them, What was their hor- ror at seeing the animal, instead of coming nearer, suddenly dart into the ‘grave of Red- vel and coil himself around the body! They approached him, and he gave a warning rattle again, rearing his hvad in rage ; but, without waiting, the others fired, sending several bul- lets through its neck and head. The contor- tious of the snake, though terrible, did not remove his body, and when he gasped out his life he was still lying upon the breast of Redzel. «Bury them together,” said Seth, ‘they're good companions.” “The idea is too horrible,” replied Sum- morfield, placing the point of his rifle beneath the reptile and flinging him forth. The ani- mal was dead, yet there was an inyoluntary maotion in several parts of the body, and, as if to add unearthly horror to the scene, Seth af- firmed that it resembled Redzel’s dying move- ments ! ; This unpleasant duty finished, the com- pany now made ready to take their leave of a place that had been so prolific with misery to | them. No prayer was said over Redzel, for Summerfield felt that it would have been mockery to attempt it. ; Tt was now near neon, and, without waiting to partake of atiy food, the company were goon en roule for the States. Vic had found a good quantity of meat among the savages, which he hes .ated not to ao a to the use of his friends, so that there was nothing to fear in that direction. eet When they departed, they turned thoit backs upon a heart-sickening scene. Scatter- ed over a large surface of the prairie, were lying over a score of bodies, cut and mangled im every conceivable manner! There they were to lie until torn asunder by fierce animals, or until they had rotted beneath the blazing gun and chilly weather! CHAPTER XXI. THE CONSUMMATION, _ Waar more is to be said? To all good sto- ries there is a happy end—says the proverb, ee ee ee The Fighting Trapper. Perhaps it is so: at least, we shall not say it is not so, even if by saying this we claim that our story is a good one. For, what could come out of these perils, these races for life, these episodes of hunter's life, and of heart-life, if not a happy consummation? A fow episodes, and all is told “Viola, do you remember a little talk we once had, under not quite so favorable circuin- stances?” “Oh! yes, we had a great many pleasant chats, for «ll our situation was not as we might have wished,” she replied, blushing slightly, and pretending not to comprehend him. «That is true; but I refer to that one in the cave.” ‘When we made our way out. J don’t think it was very pleasant.” ‘*No, no; you little witch. I mean when we were all alone, and I asked you whether you would be my wife, and you said you would some day. Don’t remember that, I suppose ?” ‘Let me see,” she repeated slowly and re- flectively, as though endeavoring to call up some forgotten circumstance, and yet unable to repress a smile at Summerfield’s quizzical appearance. Ah! there was no danger of her forgetting that conversation. He waited a second, and then catching her impulsively in his arms, he added : You remember well enough; but it doesn’t make much difference whether you do or not. I do, and, of course, will hold you to your promise.” Then releasing her, and imprinting a warm kiss upon a warmer cheek, he continued, in an earnest tone : «Viola, your father has givén me his con- sent, and you have. To-day I shall leave for home, and if I find my sister alive and well— as God grant I may—I shall visit your home and claim you at once. At any rate, you shal soon hear from me.” At this point, the little foolish creature went to crying. In a few moments, however, sha looked up, more beautiful than ever, and smiling through her sparkling tears, asked : ‘© You will come, will you ?” ‘I guess so,” returned Summerfield, giving another burning kiss, which was returned. Shortty after, they were joined by Vennond. who understood everything, and laughed and joked them greatly, wondering what had grieved Viola so much, and made Summerfield so aglow with pleasure, And Viola tried to site. — acon to rag 4 mo and at ee jummertie ughing’ 6 them good-by and departed, he for Kastern Missouri, they for Louisiana. rSpemeer emma Fever coh Veer RRA To a THE END, .od the residence of Viola the next day. In the morning, Summerfield, accompanied by his sister, set out for Louisiana, and reach- As might be supposed, she and Marian were ardent friends at once. There was a great deal of unimportant talk, as there alwaysisat =| such times, and at last the great wedding day was fixed by Marian and Viola. And of the wedding it is perhaps useless to speak. Hundreds of others are daily YS place which are es much as was thisone. The — nuptials were celebrated at Viola’s residence, Vic Vannoven, the hardy trapper, and Seth the eccentric fellow, were two important person- ages who were present, The former, at first, was embarrassed by the gorgeous splendor of the scene; but the others understood hig nature, and succeeded in making him feel per- fectly at home. He grew very loquacious declaring that Viola ‘‘ war as purty as a young beaver,” and Summerfield, ‘wal, thar, he allers thought he’s a blasted fine chap.” Prob. ably the excellent wine had some effect upon him, for, before the company broke up, af Seth’s suggestion, he performed for the com pany ao genuine Sioux war dance, wi omitting a single howl or yell, and ended j matter by hugging Viola somewhat after the — fashion of a grwzly bear, and kissing her eyest — His performance created much merriment, for — they all knew his rough but generous nature. Seth never remembered that he himself had — oncé entertained a tender feeling for Viola; but joined in the Biting with a gusto and heartiness equal to the trapper. He exe cuted some marvellous gyrations in the dances he undertook, and showered his conga - tions upon every one he spoke to, Nothing anoena to mar the pleasure of the ev , except an inadvertent remark of Vannoven'w that, ‘‘ef Jim war thar, thar’d be a tall time, no mistake,” This brought a tear to more than one eye. > (ae Siena has just informed irs that bie noven has consented to give up his tra ig life after one more journey. Ele dave the pixie ‘ have too many whites upon them, and the — overland mail is spoiling the country, and there is not enough of beaver to pay for the trouble. He starts upon his journeyine few weeks, so that if our readers wish to know his — whereabouts, they may conclude that, by the time this concluding chapter reaches them. he __ is somewhere up among the Rocky mountaing, — ursuing his exciting and dangerous vocation Bummereld Pou informed him beige iG ing to 6 newspapers, an intends Pas as soon as possible te see how in priat. . re’ name
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} te 4 NNING & {N NING & JUMPING if . Recipe Book. oe eke’ “i Guide. Family Physiclay i; pressmaking & Millinery- cans+ complete and re presented psentiographies, | of o have geries embraces L.—George Washington John ‘Paul Jones. yit.—Mad Anthony Wayne. {v.—bhthan Allen. v_—Marquis de Lafayette. eb Sees Da rocke! "Israel Putnam. 1x.—Kit Carson. Wri A ihe rtain } CAS te me: ‘ —yecumseh. SA. is u Ur Staeuts a rlors, , ~~ xpranam Lincoln. BEADLE «anoA inal mee compre cd Xi.—Pontiac. Nash DA pa nor Dramas, Cor Orig. ) — . Co 7 by moved dB Humor. | ns ers: standaca Reaannd, Reet- not the g; , hew M HAND BOOK OF WINTER SPORTS 9 EMBRACING; ICE-SKAT Hy Kole ING, ON CURLING, see aiccay k taieabd oes Nhe R S jo te el lai D ICE-BOATING TBALL, Ss Ke S = iG 7) Together with the S i jpecial Code of Rules for Priz e Skating of the RATES | “ 2 enne Congress, and Re all 2 peng ta yer of Matches at B. A Ee icke io : ted by Henry cick " The ahowe books are sold hy all Nawsdealera. or sent. i nost-vaid. on receipt of price, 10 ots, eack, : ' F ne HEY te Pie 3 PS ahh a - "A Pr
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| BEADLE'’S*])IME*[IBRARY. \ Published Every Wednesday. Each Issue Complete and Sold at the Uniform Price of Ten Cents. No Double Numbers 4 -- — BY JOSEPH E. BADGER, JR. BY WILLIAM R, EYSTER, BY COL, PRENTISS INGRAHAM. $4) Old Sobersides, the Detective of St. Louis, 916 Two Dead-Square Sports, 225 White-Horse Wheeler, the Revenue Detective. | 902 soft wae the Man from Sandrock. 918 The Double Edged Detective. 891 Genteel Jim, Sport-at-Large, } 907 Maverick Mark. the Man from Nowhere, 881 The Clubman-Crook’s Cat's-paw. Al 898 silky Steele, the Stay-in Sport. 867 The Frisco Sport. i 831 T e a eee port's Neck-Tie Party. 852 The Stravger Sport’s Shake-up. He 80 High-Water Mark; or, Silver-Tip Sid. 828 Kirk King, the Man from Kirby. ; 362 Hiata Rob, the Range Champion. 818 Gentleman Dave, the Dead Game Sport 855 The C .whoy Chief's Sure-Shot. 783 The King-Pin Tramp. 848 The Rival Red-Hat Sports. 767 The Sport of silver Bend, 837 Curly Kid, the Cheyenne Sport. 718 Unc'e Bedrock’s Big Bounce, 8% The Sofc Hand Detective, 707 The Rival Rovers. 815 The Soft Hand’s Clutch. 687 Double Cinch Dan, the Sport With a Charm, 809 Dan Dunn. the Soft-Hand Sport. 677 Mr. Jackson, the Gent from Jaybird, 7% Tue Frisco Detective’s Thug-Tangle. 659 Gilt-Edge J obaoys or, Roldan and His Rovers, +89 Sam Cary, the River Spurt. 650 Lucky Lester’s Lone Hand. * 80 Tne Dead Sport’s Double. 634 Old Handcart’s Big Dump. “71 Prince John, Detective Special, 622 The All Around Sports. 788 Dandy Don, the Denver Detective. 608 Desert Alf, the Man With the Cougar. ¥54 2he Man: Sram Texas; or, Dangerfield, the 80 Gentle Jack, the High Roller from Humbug. tec! . 578 8 li eve, 744 Sweepstakes Sam, the Silver Sport. 568 Ang Boy M Es cehh Nie FpOre Sete a Grain, 720 The Secret Six; or, Old Halcyon, 712 The Man of Siik, Bantam Bob, the Beauty from Butte. 558 Hurrah Harry, the High Horse from Halcyon, 549 Belshazzar Brick, the Bailiff of Blue Blazes, 533 Oregon, the Sport With a Scar, Kent Kasson, the Preacher Sport. 503 The Dude from Denver. 683 Bob Breeze, the Ronnder Detective, 478. Pinnacie Pete: or, The Fool. from. Wa: ; ap me stor ace cle Pe . y Back, hs oo ey ee iri a “y Sunrise. 459 ey Sunshine, the Man of Three Lives, Solemn Saul's Luck Str.a 29 Hair Trigger Tom of Red lend, 661 The Get-There Sharp. 631 Silvestip St-ve, the Sky Scraper from Siskiyou. 645 Gopher Gabe, the Unseen Detective. 402 Snapshot Sam; or, The Angels’ Flat Racket, 396 The Piper Detective; or, The Gilt Edge Gang. e li Hin 875 Royal George, the Taree in One. pad ened ep PARR ae 356 Thr e Handsome Sports; or, The Combination. 617 The Grip Sack Bharp’s Been iio 833 Derringer Dick, the Man with the Drop, 26 vic Mike. “he Mills 507 Big Bandy, the Brigadier of Brimstone Butte. res Pinas Citaaret on. the itis Sport 588 Sandy sands, the Sharp from Snap City. | 214 The Two Cool Sports; or, Gertie of the Gulch. ; =r = da poured sas or, hai iene a rs Pacer. 182 Hands Up; or, The Knights of the Canyon he Grip-Sack Sharp; or, The Seraphs of Sodom, ; 3 ‘ Tho Y BoS Grip-Sask Sid. the Sample Sport. 160 Soft Hand, Sharp; or, Th»,Man with the Sand. B47 the Buried Detective; or, Sa 1's Six Sensations. | 14 Pistol Pards; or, The Silent Sport from Cinnabar 541 Major Magnet, the Man of Nerve, BY NED BUNTLI 535 ee, Dutch, the Decorator from Dead-Lift 657 Loug Tom, the Privateer. INE 527 Dandy Andy, the Diamond Detective, 633 Th Gann ae per. 514 Gabe Guno, the Grizzly from Ginseng, v9 iS PVs apne 604 Solemn Saul, the Sad Man from san Saba, kde The Red I eer et or, The Midshipman Rover, 495 Rattlepate Rob; or, ‘The Roundhead’s Reprisal | 5¥4 poe eae ype uccaneen ing. 488 The Thor: ughbred Sport. ( Buffalo Bill's First Trav, , 474 Daddy Dead-Bye, the Desnot of Dew Drop. 361 ‘Tombstone Dick, the Train Pilot, 466 Od Rough and ‘Ready, the Sage of Sundown | 1%? Saul Sabberday, the ldiot Spy. | 5 458 Duteb Dan. the Pilgrim from Spitzenberg. 111 The Smugg'er Captain: or, The Skipper’s Crime, 443 A Cool Hand: or, Pistol Johnny's Pienie, 18 The Sea Bandit; or, The Queen of the Isle. @8 Oklahoma Nick. | , 16 The White Wizard; or, The Seminole Prophet. ' 433 Lauyhing Leo; or, Sam’s Dandy Pard. R x ¥ '€% The Ghost Detective; or, The Secret Service Spy, | BY FACKSON KNOX—“ Old Hawk,” 416 Monte Jim, the Biack Sheep of Bismarck. 838 Ola Grips Still Hunt. “09 Rob Roy Ranch; or, The Imps of Pan Handle, 827 Biante Ww Magiate \Web. 40% The Nameless Sport. 778 The Butler Detective; or, Old Grip’s Grip 895 Derdly Aim, the Duke of Derringers. 77) The Showman Dete tive. 887 D rk jue the Ishmael of the Hills. 762 Old Grip, the De ective. risp, the Man with a Record, 740 Capt in Clew, the Fighting Detective, 872 Captain 867 A Royal ius; or, Dan Brown's big Game. 732 The Hurricane Detective, 860 Jumping Jerry, the Gamecock from Sundown. 643 Castlemaine, the Silent Sifter. 355 Stormy Steve, the Mad Athlete, 616 Magnus, the Weird Detective. 851 Nor’ West Nick, the Border Detective. 606 The Drop Detective. ‘846 Maskea Mark, the Mounted Detective, 595 Wellborn, the Upper Crust Detective, 339 Spread Eagie'Sam, the Hercules Hide Hunter, 582 Joram, the Detective Expert. 831 Onispa Charley, the Gold Nugget Sport, 574 Old Falcon’s Double. $17 Hrank Lightfoot, the Miner Detective. 561 The Thug King; or, The Falcon Detective’s Foe. 292 Moke Hornar, the Boss Roustabout, 548 Falconbridge. the Sphinx Detective. 286 Pistol Johnny; or, One Man in a ‘Thousand, 586 Old Falcon's Foe; or, The Detective’s Swell Job, 283 Sieek Sam, the Devil of the Mines. 515 Short-Stop Maje, the Diamond Field Detective. 257 Death Trap Diggings; or, A Man’Way Back | 509 Old Falcon, the Thunderbolt Detective. 249 Blephant Tom, of Durango. 501 Springsteel Steve, the Retired Detective, 241 Spitfire Saul, King of the Rustlers, 494 The Detective's Spy. } 233 The Old tsoy of Tombstone. . 485 Rowlock. the Harbor Detective, 203 Pirate of the Placers; or, Joaquin’s Death Hunt | 477 Dead-arm Brandt, 180 Old ‘49; or, The Amazon of Arizona. .487 Mainwaring, the Salamander, 470 Sweet William, the Trapper Detective, 462 The Civeus Detective. an 165 Joaquin. the Terrible 451 Griplock, the Rocket Deteative. ie ¥54 Joaquin, the Saddie King, 444 The Magic Detective; or, The Hidden Hand, it 141 Equinox Tom, the Bul'y of Red Rock, 424 Hawk Heron’s Deputy,’ j ; 119 Alabama Joe; or, The Yazoo Man-Hunters, 886 Hawk Heron, the Falcon Detective, ih 305 Dan Brown of Rearer, ; mgatt wig neinacateal 88 eorze; or, The Five Outlaw Bro . . ‘1 ei Hl Canin Goal Blade; or, Mississippi Man Shark, BY J.C. COWDRICK, a 67 The Boy Jockey; or, Honesty vs. Crookedness. | 759 The Suspect Sport of Daisy Drift. ’ 4 : 8 Jack Rabbit, tne Prairie Sport. 626 Ducata b mi t he Nabob Sport ape gta F ¢ i er’ wood, the Regulator o ip ‘. ov aN) BY win. G, PATTEN. 598 ‘The Dominie Detective, ; ‘| 810 Fire-Eye, the Thug's Terror, 591 Duke Daniels, the Society Detective. a Old Night-Hawk, the Crook Shadower, 580 Shadowing a Shadow. iia) 768 The Prine of New York Crooks. 565 Prince Paul, the Postman Detective. An '%6 Old Burke, the Madison Square Detective, 557 The Mountain Graybeards; or, Riddles’ Riddle. me We 947 Double-voice Dan’s Double Disguise. 519 Old Riddles, the Rocky Ranger 2 715 Double-Voice Dan on Deck. 499 Twilight Charlie, the Road Sport. a Double-Voice Dan, the Always-on-Deck Detective | 473 Gitbert of Gotham, the Steel-arm Detective. ae | F Double-Voice Dan, the Go-it Alone Detective, 452 Rainbow Rob, the Tulip from Texas. a By 4 The Sparkier Sharp. 436 Kentucky Jean, the Sport from Yellow Pine. oy Pty Hurricaue Hal, the Cowboy Hotspur. 422 Blue Grass Burt, the Gold Star Detective. = oid Fame Flv, the Trusty, it 390 The Giant Cupid; or Cibuta John’s Jubilee. ant Sport; or, Sold to Satan. : #56 Old Plug Univ. the ough and Ready. BY EDWARD WILLErT. $48 Gold Glove Gid, the Man of Grit. 488 Plush Fred, the River Sharp. He Aztec Jack, the Desert Nomad. 368 'The Canyon King; or, a Price on his Head. Colonel Cool, the Santa Fe Sharp, 348 Dan Dillon, King of Crosseut. 602 oe Nameless. the Mountain Mystery. 337 Old Gabe, the Mountain Tram u71 Old Dismal, the Range Detective. é in. Dic > Wildw e Husti + $27 Terrapin Dick, the Wildwood Detective. ler Harry, the Cowboy Sport. 315 Flush Fred's Double; or, The Squatters’ League BY GEORGE C. JENKS. 808 Hemlock Hank, Tough and True, ! 208 Logger Lem; or, Lif: in the Pine Woods, 4 "Sp Arizona Detective. . 989 Flush Fred’s Fall Hand. ii fe Iver Sam, the Shasta Sport. ", 274 Flush Fred, the Mississippi Sport, = he Silver Sport’s Double. : \ | 248 Montana Nat, the Lion of Last Chance Camp. The Race-Course Detective. ; 222 Bill the Blizzard; or, Red Jack’s Crime. , Phe Hayseed Detective. ein Gorn, Se Eran Dette, | Hb ssi ss or Sto an’ Secrte, 726 Foarless Bax, the Grand Combination Detective, | | BY CAPTAIN MAYNE REID. fin oly nes 1) g87 athe White San BR NY AA ae 234 The i rt Detective. ny Joes the doe Key. Detect , | Sharp, the,Rustler ye P<. Hunter's Feast. Nees) R 4 ) 4 | 213 The Wild Funtress; The Squatter. he 200 Th Ler pe or. in Mexi 209 Buck Farley. the Bonanza Prince, © u Te 911 The Blue Blockader; or, The Coast Grayhousd. 906 The Cuban Cruiser, BoA ‘The Wild Stoes i exas Jack's Terwors e teer ers; or, T ack’s q 8 The Rival Monte Qristos, 7 805 The Last of the Pirates;or, Doom Driven, 801 The Water Wolves’ Detective; or, Trapping the Grave Ghouls, oe 791 The Coast-Raider’s Death-Chase, 748 Arizona Chariie, the Crack-shot Detective, 704 Invisible Ivan, the Wizard Detective, F 685 The Red-skin Sea Rover. M i; 679 Revello, the Pirate Cruiser; or, The Rival Rovers: 672 The Red Rapler; or, The Sea Rover's Bride. — 662 The Jew Detective; or, The Beautiful Conviet, — 640 Tne Rover's Ret ibution, { 635 The Ex Buccanerr: or, The Stigma of Sin, 625 Red Wings; or, The Gold Seekers of the Bahamas, 615 The Three uccaneers. he 610 The Red Flag Rover; or, White Wings of the Deep, 605 The Shadow Silver Ship. 600 The Silver Ship; or, The Sea Scouts of "76, . 593 The Sea Rebel: or. Red Rovers of the Revolution, ‘| 587 Conrad, the Sailor Spy; or, True Hearts of "76. 581 The Outlawed Skipper, or, The Gantlet Runner, — 560 The Man from Mexico, ' 553 Ma. Monte, the Mutineer; or, The Branded : 546 TFs Doomed Whaler: or, The Life Wreck, * — 580 The Savages of the Sea, 524 The Sea Chaser; or, Fhe Pirate Noble, 510 El Moro, the Corsair Commodore, 2 493 The Scouts of the Sea. vole 457 The Sea Insurgent: or, The Conspirator Som, — 446 Ocean Ogre, the Outcast Corsair, : 435 The One-Armed Buccaneer, ; ‘ 430 The Fatal Frigate; or, Rivals in Love and Waa — 899 The New Monte Cristo, Ne: 393 The Convict Captian, 14 ae 877 Afloat and Ashore; or, The Corsair Conspieates: 369 The Coast Corsair: or, ‘Che Siren of the Sea, 364 The Sea Fugitive: or, The Queen of the Coash — 341 The Sea Desperado, Jae 836 Tne Magic Snip; or, Sandy Hook vg “em 825 ‘The Gentleman Pirate ; or, The Casco Hermite, 818 The Indian i uccaneer; or, The Red Rovers, 807 The Phantom Pirate; or, The Water Wolves, _ %5 The Pirate Priest; or, The Gampler’s Daughtesm 246 Queen Helen, the Amazon of the Overlan / 5 285 Red Ligntning the Man of Chance. Le ean 224 Black Beard, the Buccaneer, 2207 The Specter Yacht; or, A Brother's Crime, 210 Buccaneer Bess. the Lioness of the Sea, 205 The Gambler Pirate; or, Lady of the Lagoon, 198 The Skeleton Schooner; or, The Skimmer. f 184 The Scarlet Schooner: or. The Sea Nemesia, = 104 Montezuma. the Merciless. f , 103 Merle, the Mutineer; or, The Red Anchor@iaase., WY PHILIP S. WARNE, 802 Dan Dirk, King of No Man’s Land, 583 Captain ‘Adair. the Cattle King. 567 Captain Midnight, the Man of Craft. 544 The Back to Back Pards, 522 The Cham pion Three. \ my: 502 Bareback Buck, the Centaur of the Plaina, — 472 Six Foot Si; or, The Man to * Tie To,” 431 California Kit, the Always on Hand, 8 404 Silver Sid; or, A “ Daisy ” Bluff, '" oy 880 Tiger Dick's Pled ‘e: or, Tne Golden Bexpeaary 359 Yellow Jack, the Mestizo. | is 388 Jack Sands, the Bogs of the Town, oy 209 Tyree of a Kind; or, Dick, Despard and the 251 Tiger Dic vs. fron Peapene 207 Old Hard Head; or, Whirlwind and his Mare, 171 Tiger Dick, the Man of the Iron Heart, 114 The Gentleman from Pike. We 4 80 A Man of Nerve; or, Caliban the Dwarf, 54 Always on Hand; or, The Pyot-Hils Sport. 29 Tiger Dick, Faro King; or, The Cashier's Ort 4 The Kidnapper; or, The Northwest Shanghad, — BY CAPTAIN MARK WILTON, $28 Hotspur Hugh; or, The Banded Brothers, 811 Heavy Hand; or, The Marked Men, 805 Silver-Plated Sol, the Montana Rover. | Horseshoe Hank, the Man of Big Luck, 285 Lightning Bolt, the Canyon Terror, 276 Texa’ Chick. the Southwest Detective. 271 Stonefist, of Big vile Bend, 266 Leopard Luke the ng of Horse-Thieves: 263 lron-Armed Abe, the Hunchback Destroyer — 258 Bullet Head, the Colorado Bravo. 237 Fee Seperate Max; or, The Black 227 Buckshot Ben, the Man-Hunter of Idaho, ri mat Ai Dare, iy amt of ae CE : he Scorpion Brothers; or, Mad Tom’s Missiom 202 Cactus Jack, the Giant Guide. ~ tN 191 Don Sombrero. the California Road Gent. 176 Lady Jaguar, the Robber Queen. BY OLL COOMES, 619 Kit Bandy & Co , the Border Detectives. 148 One-Armed Alf, the Giant Hunter, 99 The Giant Rifleman: or, Wild Camp Life. 43 Dakota Dan, the Reckless Ranger, BY COL, TROMAS H. MONSTE 236 Charapion Sam; or, The Monarchs of 150 El Rubio Bravo, King of the Swo BY DR. NOEL DUNBAR, '| 919 The Sea Scout; or, The Patriot Privateem s. . zy “ee Dead-set Detective.
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if Fach Number Complete. | “984 Buffalo Bill's Life Raffle; or, The Doomed’ a4 Three. By Col. P. Ingraham. 1 | 979 Buffalo Bill’s Relemtless Trail. By Colone Prentiss Ingraham. i ' 97S The Dread Shot Four; or, My Pards of the 5 * Plains. By Col. W. F. Cody. = ) 964 Buffalo Bill’s Invincibles; or, The Sable Shad- ower’s Sublime Sacrifice. ham, 960 Buffalo Bill’s Blue Belt Brigade; or, Sun- x ‘flower Sam of Shasta. By Col. P. Ingraham. 46. Buffalo Bill’s Volunteer Vigilantes; ‘or, The Vee ees Man in Blue, By Col. P. Ingra- ham. By Col. P. Ingra- |} 950 Buffalo Bill at Bay; or, The Gold Seeker's Doom. By Col. P. Ingraham. 948 Buffalo Bill's Block Game; or, The Mounted ‘ Miners of the Overland. By Col. P. Ingra- ham. 4/936 Buffalo Bill's Black Pard; or, The Gold | oa Buffalo Bill and the Surgeon Scout; or, Go- _ Boomers of the Big Hern. By Col. P. Ingra- ham. , 927 Buffalo Bill's Bluff; oy, ‘Dusky _ Sport. By Col. P. Ingraham. j 921 Buffalo Bill's Quandary; or, Velvet Blirs Vow. By Col, Prentiss Ingraham, ' Dick, the % ie _Wan-go, the Redskin Rider. In- ' graham. } 900 Buffalo Bill's League; or, Red Butterfly. By By Col: P. 00 Buffalo Bill’s Rough Riders; or, Texas Jack’s _ Sharp-Shooters. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 895 uffalo Bill's Seeret Ally; or, The Texan's ' Double. By Col, Prentiss Ingraham. | Buffalo Bill's Life-Stake; or, The Pledged _. Three. By Col. P, Ingraham. $82 The Three Bills; Buffalo Bill, Wild Bill and . Band-Box Bill; or, The Bravo in Broadcloth. _ By Col, P, Ingraham. : j 874 Buffalo Bill's Buckskin Braves; or, The Card hh Quean's Lest Gane. By Col. P. Ingraham. ‘869 Buffalo Bill’s Road Agent Round-Up; or, The } Mysterious Masked Man in Black. By Col. _ P, Ingraham. 863 Buffalo Bill's Death-Charm; or, The Man - With the Scar. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, | 857 Buffalo Bill’s Royal Flush; or, The Pony Ri- der’'s LDeath-Run, By Col. Prentiss Ingra- _ ham. > 851 Buffalo Bill's Double Dilemma; or, The Great ‘Scout's Big Three. By Col. P. Ingraham. $45 Buffalo Bill’s Redskin Ruse; or, Texas Jack's Death Shot. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. | Proxy. By Buffalo Bill. } 830 Buffalo Bill’s Boys in Blue; or, The Brimstone | - Band's Blot-out. By Col. P. Ingraham. ‘ $26 Buffalo Bill’s Sharp-Shooters; or, The Surgeon | 65: Scout to the Rescue. By Col. P. Ingraham, or 4 « at ° Ss ) ) : S ~ 000000008 839 The Ranch King Dead-Shot; or, Texas Jack's)’ Ten Cents a Copy. Th Buffalo Bill's Best Bower; or, Montebello the Gold King. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. White Beaver’s Still Hunt; or, The Miner Marauder's Death-Track. By Buffalo Bill. Buffalo Bill's Red Trall; or, The Road-Rider Renegade’s. Run Down. By Col. P. Ingraham, Buffalo Bill's Death-Knell; or, The Red Hand Riders of the Rockies, By Col. P. Ingraham. 07 Wild Bill, the Wild West Duelist; or, The Girl Mascot of Moonlight Mine. By Buftalo Bill. Wild Bill, the Wild West Duelist; or, The Girl ~ Grande Ralph, the Cowboy Chief. By Buf- falo Bill. Buffalo Bill's Winning Hand; or, The Masked ’ Woman of the Colorado Canyon, By Col. P. Ingrahem, Buffalo Bill's Dead Shot; or, The Skeleton Scout of the Colorado. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. Buffalo Bill's Brand; or, The Brimstone Brotherhood. By Col, Prentiss Ingraham. Buffalo Bill's Spy-Shadower; or, The Masked Men at Grand Canyon, By Col. P. Ingraham. Buffajo Bill's Ban; or, Cody to the Rescue. By Leon Lewis. ~ Buffalo Bill's Sweepstake; or, The Wipe-out at Last Chance. Buffalo Bill's Dozen; or, Silk Ribbon Sam, By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. , Buffalo Bill’s Mascot; or, Victim ‘No. 13. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. ‘Buffalo Bill's Double; or, The Desperado De- tective. By Col, Prentiss Ingraham. Buffalo Bill’s Big Four; or, Custer's Shadow. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. Buffalo Bill’s Flush Hand; or, Texas Jack’s Bravos.» By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. Buffalo Bill’s Blind; or, The Masked Driver of Death’s Canyon. By Col. Prentiss Ingra- ham. " Buffalo Bill and Wis Merry Men; or, The Robin Hood Rivals. By Col. Prentiss Ingra- ham. . x i Buffalo Bill's Beagles; or, By Col,, Prentiss Ingraham. Buffalo Bill’s Body “Guard; or, The Still Hunt of the Hills. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. Buffalo Bill on the War Path; or, Silk Lasso ’ Sam, the Will-o’-the-Wisp, By Col. P. In- graham. 716 Buffalo” Bill's Scout Shadowers; or, Emer- ald Ed of Devil’s Acre. By Col. P. Ingraham. 710 Buffalo Bill Baffled; or, The. Deserter Des- perado’s Defiance. By Col. P. Ingraham. 697 Buffalo Bill’s | Buckskin Brotherhood; or, Opening Up a Lost Trail. By Col. P. In- graham. 691 Buffalo Bill’s Blind Trail; or, The Daughter of the Regiment. By Col. Prentiss’ Ingraham. 682 Buffalo Bill’s Secret Service Trail. By Major Dangerfield Burr. 667 Buffalo Bill's Swoop; or, the King of the Mines. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. § The Cowboy Clan; or, The Tigress of Texas, By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham. Silk Lasso Sam. HE DIME LIBRARY is for sale by all Newsdealers, ten cents per copy, or sent by mail, pre-paid, on re-" ceipt of price. | ) if ; / ! By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, 3 31 The Death Valley + Liar. The Lasso King’s League; or, The Tigers of Texas. By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham. Buck Taylor, the Saddle King, Buffalo Bill’s Chief of Scouts. By Col. P. Ingraham. Buffalo Bill’s Bonanza; or, The Knights of the Silver Circle. By Col. P. Ingraham. 9 The Gold King; or, Montebello, the Magnifi- cent. By Buffalo Bill. Buffalo Bill's Daring Role; or, Daredeath Dick, King of the Cowboys. By Leon Lewis. The Dead Shot Nine; or, My Pards of the Plains. By Buffalo Bill. Buffalo Bill’s First Trail; or, Will Cody, the Pony Express Rider. By Ned Buntline, Red Renard, the Indian Detective; or, The Gold Buzzards of Colorado. By Buffalo Lill. The One-Armed Pard; or, Red Retribution in Borderland. By Buffalo Bill, The Wizard Brothers; or, Trail. By Buffalo Bill. : White Beaver, the Exile of the Platte; or, rape eae AF \2t Man's Red, Trail. By Buffalo Buffalo Bill’s Grip; or, Oath-bound to Custer. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 9 Buffalo Bill’s Pledge; or, The League of Three. By Col, P. Ingraham. 9 Wild Bill, the Whirlwind of the West. Buffalo Bill. 804 Texas Jack, the Prairie Rattler; or, The Queen of the Wild Riders. By Buffalo Bin, 3 The Pilgrim Sharp; or, The Soldier's Sweet- heart. By Buffalo Bill, Government Scout and Guide. . Ke 189 Wild Bill's Gold Trail; or, The Desperate Dozen. By Col, P. Ingraham. 4175 Wild .Bill’s Trump Card; or, The Indian » Heiress. By Col, Prentiss Ingraham. 168 Wild Bill, the Pistol Dead Shot; or, Dagger Don’s Double, By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 158 Buffalo Bill, Chief of Scouts; or, The Doomed Dozen. By Dr. Frank Powell. 117 Buffalo Bill’s Strange Pard; or, Dashing Dandy, the Hotspur of the Hills. By Major D. Burr. P 92 Buffalo Bill, the Burkskin King;, or, The Bieta of the West. By Major Dangerfield urr. ; 88 Gold Bullet Sport; or, The Knights of the Overland. By Buffalo Bill. 52 Death Trailer, the Chief of Scouts; cr, Life and Love in a Frontier Fort. By Buffalo White Beaver's By Bill, NEW ISSUES TO COME. 985 The Long-Haired Pards; or, The Tartars of the Plains. By Joseph BE. Badger, Jr. 986 Iron Wrist, the Swordmaster. By Col. Thos. Hoyer Monstery. 987 Shadrach, the Sport Detective; or, The Secret Seven. By John W. Osbon. 988 Rocky Mountain Rob, the California Outlaw. By Albert W. Aiken. ¥ 000000000 000000000 000000000 0039006000 | igs wer a