Five Cent Wide Awake Library (vol. 2) (1892 11 12)
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. Entered at the Post Office at New York, N, Y., as Second Class Matter. No. 1147, (own) "WEA eae GER} Vol. IL. Entered according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1892, by FRANK TOUSEY, in the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. O. ITHE ARKANSAS SCOUT. By PAUL BRADDON. | ie VL A
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—— THE ARKANSAS SCOUT. The Subscription Price of the FrvE Centr Wipe AWAKE LIBRARY by the year is $2.60: $1.25 per six months, post-paid. Address FRANK TOUSEY, Publisher, 34 and 36 North Moore Street, New York. Box 2730. THE ARKANSAS SCOUT. - By PAUL BRADDON, ~ Author of ‘‘ Pawnee Bill’s Boys,” ‘‘Old Oak Burrell, the Journalist Detective,” ‘‘The Mark of Mystery,” etc., etc. CHAPTER I, THE SCOUT. <“‘Wuat is that?” J didn’t hear anything.” “Didn’t yer? Listen!” ** Listen it is.” As motionless as statues the two young men stood, waiting for a repetition of the sound which had reached the ears of the Ar- kansas Scout. “There it is again!” “T have it now,” said Gabe Wickett. «‘ What do yer make it out ter be?” A “The cry of a human being in distress, said the scout, “There if comes in!” asa low, hollow, mournful wail came drifting to their ears through the arches of the woods. *“‘Come, Gabe, we must find out what the trouble is.” s Gabe Wickett nodded, and dropping he- hind his companion, away they glided in In- dian file. ; In ten minutes they were close to the spot whence the wail emanated. Clear and dis- tinct it now reached their ears, and the ago- ny with which it was freighted made their stout hearts sicken for the poor woman—for it was a woman's cry, Why was she uttering those cries? It became necessary to know before ventur- ing further. They had a suspicion as to the truth, and as they slowly advanced, kept their eyes peeled for Indian signs. Suddenly the scout paused,,and with a grunt pointed to the ground. “* Indians!” was the sententious rejoinder of Gabe Wickett, as he saw the print of a moc- casin. . Borat that wild, agonizing shriek. ising one hand by way of cautioning his companion, the scout began to creep forward. ‘They were not far from the spot—in less than five minutes they had’entered a screen form- ed by a clump of trees, from which they could see what was transpiring. As they entered this cover came another cry more intense, but weaker. J was still weaker when they heard it ain. : hey parted the bushes carefully, and saw a sight which froze the blood in their veins. Tied to a stake was a woman, and around her the flames were leaping. She was being burned to death at the stake, surrounding which, mocking, laughing and jeering at her anguish, were a band of Indiansin their war paint. The two white men instinctively grasped and attempting to rescue the woman. : ting re came one last moan and cry com- But they arrived too late! — Alre the flames had Lent done their work. @ was on fire—her clothing was all ‘ablaze. Each moment her cries became weaker. The skin on her face blistered, charred, peeled off and rolled up like parch- __-mingled, denoting supreme anguish, and then her voice became hushed. In drawing breath she,had sucked into her throat and lungs a high, leaping tongue of flame. Her head fell : ars on her breast, a convulsion thrilled - her ment, -ish glee from the red devils—the victim was their ri in a tighter stip, and for one mo- . ment felt like flinging themselves forward It was a terrible sight. - aye they were too late! The A minute or two later the bonds which had side rangi (ae PORN ce ivghates Ihals frame; there came a wild shout of flend- not be gai fastened her erect burned through and she fell forward among the glowing embers, where she was allowed to remain. “The red fiends!” hissed the scout betwéen his clenched teeth. ‘‘ See, there is the chief, Gabe do you know him?” “It is Hard-Heart.” ** Hard-Heart! Then God help the unfort- unate pale-face who falls into his hands,” was Gabe’s rejoinder. 3 ** Gabe, use your eyes now. Does yer see aught of any other white captives?” Gabe Wickett used his eyes as directed and carefully scanned the little glade in which the Indians had encamped. . ** No, I don’t,” he finally said, *‘ Nor do I,” added the scout. ‘* We'd bet- ter draw out’n this place a little, I guess; we're a trifle too clus for safety ; one of ther young braves might tumble on us at any min- ute. Easy, now, Gabe, remember yer steppin’ on eggs. They had great need to be careful, being within a few hundred feet of an Indian camp, and that, too, while it was yet daylight. The sun was still an hour high. Skulking from the clump of bushes'the scout reached a tree; pausing here fora full min- ute to watch and listen, he then gained the cover of another a dozen feet or so further away, in all of his movements being imitated by his companion. It was ticklish work, and the two men weighed well every step a took. But they at last began to feel themselves comparative- ly safe, and were on the point of audibly con- earls each other, when—— “ ag) ind - It was the guttural exclamation of an In- dian who had discovered them. For a mo- ment he was too surprised at the unexpected sight of these white men to do more than stare at them. “Then he snatched his toma- hawk from his belt and sent it. flying with force and precision at the scout’s head. Standing as immovable as though carved out of stone the scout watched the flight of the gleaming weapon. Its course being ac- curately gauged, he swiftly moved to one side, and the hatchet buried itself in atree on an exact line with the position of his head a minute before. First uttering a cry of disappointment at the scout’s escape, the Indian then set up a wild whoop of warning, and bounded swiftly backward in search of cover. : But, rapid as were his movements, they could not compare with those of the scout. His rifle fiew to his shoulder, and hardly seeming to take aim, he drew the trigger. Crack! There followed a wild yell, the Indian ieee high into the air and fell with a heavy thud, As careless as the scout’s aim had seemed, it had been so true as to send the bullet into the redskin’s brain. ‘Now, Gabe,” he said, in a low, decided tone. ‘Now, Gabe, we're in for it, and there’s no help for it, either. Dust now, and lively, too. Meet me between midnight and sunrise at the Hole-in-the-rock. Go; and leave me to cover our tracks. “ But, Arkansaw——" “No ‘buts’ about it. Go, I say!” S paren be takin’ all the risk, and I—" »- $F of” . The scout Pe) By | finding any traces o spoke imperatively ; he would] in “Well, pard, good-bye,” said Gabe, be- stowing on the scout a look of gratitude and devotion, and he swiftly disappeared. For fully two minutes the scout stood there, listening to the confusion in the camp caused by the Indian's cry of warning and the crack of his rifle. “ They're coming,” he muttered, as he heard them rushing toward the spot whence the cry and rifle report had come. *‘They’re coming!” and his As brightened, and his nostril dilated like those of a horse when the ~~ excitement of theraceisuponhim. “They're — - coming—now for a chase.” Away he dashed, purposely leaving a broad and easily-followed trail behind him, so as to draw them from that of Gabe. The latter they failed to seeatall. Thescout’s trail was so plain that they pounced on it at once, and like blood-hounds sprang in pursuit of him— at first yelling with rage, and afterwards in utter silence. Of exceeding length of limb, all bone and muscle, the scout could easily give them odds and then distance them. e knew it, and enjoyed the chase as the cat enjoys playing with the mouse it has caught. e liked to tantalize them—to drive them/ mad with dis- Sppelntnene f nce he paused in full sight of them on the crest of a hill. f They saw him, and dashed onward more swiftly, grim-faced, exultant; they thought they had gained on him, that they were sure ~ of their prey. _ Mile after mile the scout unwearily ran, still leaving a broad trail behind him. Then he skirted the base of an acclivity, near which ran a stream of water. Suddenly halting, he gathered his muscles, and by a tremendous leap, landed on a good- sized rock some distance away. Jumping from rock to rock for nearly an eighth of a mile, he suddenly turned ‘at right angles, bounded across the narrow ep and swift- ly ascendedea-sharply-rising, flat-faced rock. : Atits further side it descended sheerand straight down for fifty or net feet. About — a dozen feet from the top the limbs of a tree brushed the face of the precipice. Clinging — by tooth and toenail, the scout hung on to the face of the rock until he wasable tomake use of the tree, by means of which he reached the level below. Here he paused for a few ~ seconds ; he could hear the baffled cry from the Indians; at_once his body shook, his ; stomach flattened, as he laughed asilent,in- ward laugh, and then he walked leisurely __ away. ip. ' ten by Hard-Heart himself, theIndianshad —_ reached the spot where the hitherto ‘broad trail so suddenly ended. This fact puzzled them exceedingly; the stream was too far ~ away from the spot for him to have reached ~ it by a spring; the only rock—theonehehad ° landed on—seemed also too far distant, as ae Several of the young men tried to spring the distance, and signally failed. But the scout had naturally made use of the stream So reasoned a Ae ke Fs ras to cover his trail! as any Indian would have done; and fugitive would emerge from the stream some- where above them. ‘hi? So up stream they went, puzzled by not — the fugitive, either in a nt the bed of the stream, or outside of it. * - They hunted until it was dar
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= and warmly welcomed the new-comer; and lastly came Josie Platt and her brother George, the former of whom kissed Floy, the latter wishing he dared to do likewise. — _ Floy Raynor, an only child, within the past = y . » sconced in the b _ been “at the women, THE ARKANSAS SCOUT. Indian tongue. ‘Call in the young men— they can do nothing. We have been chasing the Trackless!” ( Again and again had the scout been chased by the Indians, and had always escaped, his trail always See db a4 as suddenly as now, which fact had gained for him among the Indians the suggestive name of Track- less. ‘The Trackless!” they muttered, and the old men became grave, the younger ones un- easy. ‘‘ Heis a great warrior.” Slowly they retraced their steps to the dell in which they had camped. “Tt is the mark of Trackless,” said Hard- Heart, pointing at the dead body of the fallen brave. ‘‘ He was shot through the eye.” And while con were gathered in council far away by the Hole-in-the-rock, a stern and silent figure stood, waiting Magib Me An hour passed, two of them, and still the figure moved not. “'Tu-whit—tu-whoo!” Low but distinctly an owl's ery arose from a little distance. ‘ The figure moved. *“Tu-whit—tu-whoo!” i And thena fei glided from without the darkness beyond. CHAPTER II. “Wett, niece, I'm right glad to “WELL, niece, I’m right gla see you. Come right in, ; Amandy—Amandy, _here’s Floy Raynor come before we expected her.” Mrs. Platt came out of the rude block-house year had lost both her parents. After the death of her mother—who had been: a sister to John Platt—the latter had offered her a home, did she choose‘to leave the settlements and come to Fort Platt, situated on the banks of the Arkansas river, not far from the present site of Little Rock. Here John Platt had come a dozen years before, being the only white man that far } west, excepting the hardy hunters and trappers; and even at the time of which we write, none were further west except these trappers and hunters. At first his was the only family at Fort Platt. The Indians had nearly driven him back into the settlements lower down, and robably he would have given up the rich Tatas he held had not several hardy and ven- turesome families settled there to keep him company. "All told they numbered seven males all able to handle a rifle properly, which force, en- lock-house, was formidable enough to make the Indians chary of at- tacking them, and for the last six or seven years they had experienced no trouble at all with their red neighbors. Such was the position of affairs at the Ua ante when pretty Floy Raynor came among them. The orphans eyes filled with tears of grati- tude at the warm and hearty welcome she received, and turning to the scout in whose charge she, had.come up the river, she said: «* When you see them tell them all that I am very—very happy here, and that they are very kind tome.” _ 4 _ As they were eating supper that night, the door was suddenly darkened by a lank figure. * Arkansaw?” exclaimed John Platt, as he lanced toward the door. “ Come in—come n—Amandy, get another plate—two on ’em, for Gabe’s with him—and pullup chairs. Sit down, boys and pitch. in—if the grub runs short with what's on ‘the table we've got more stored away somewhere.” The eyes of Arkansaw—for so he was al- ways called among the whites—had been eine around the room until they had at last reached the face of Floy Raynor. : An expression of interest came into his bronzed, weather-beaten visage and Foy ** My niece,” said John Platt. ‘Sit down, Arkansaw—sit down, Gabé. Why do you keep standin’ there? Any news? Anything stirring?” : “Yes, there's a trifle of news,” returned Arkansaw, as he took the chair which had laced for him. « ‘I'll tell it to you after e,” with a meaning look, and a glance _ blushed. Platt’s face became grave, and no sooner! had the two scouts finished their meal than he asked them if they wouldn’t go outside for a smoke. ** Now, what is it?” he asked, when they were fairly out of earshot. © “Indians !” b ; ss ye are in danger of being attacked ?” ‘<Yes.” “To-nicht,” “Tt can’t be.” vied Arkansaw shrugged his shoulders, **But we are not fixed to stand an attack,” said Platt, earnestly. : “That is your fale said the scout, brusquely. ** You should always have kept in readiness.” “Can it not bestaved off? Can wenot make a‘sortie ?” “*Gabe and me makes our whole force nine men, Nine agin thirty-five of Hard-Heart’s braves! We'd stand about as much show as a chipmunk agin a panther.” ‘*Hard-Heart!” gasped John Platt, and brave and Sake man though he was, his cheek paled at that dreaded name, “ Ark- ansaw, what's to be done?” “Get ready to fight em,” was the cool re- ply, ‘‘and there is no time to be wasted, nuther,” In ten minutes the scene was one of bustle and excitement. Men, women and children were all busy, transporting provisions and their most valu- able household effects into the block-house ; others went out into the fields and drove the live stock within the palisades. It was the scout who had stood so motion- less and patient beside the Hole-in-the-rock, and the owl's cry had come from the lips of Gabe Wickett. After Rent these two men had gravely discussed the situation and compared notes. When day broke they cautiously made their way toward the Indian camp again. That they were onthe warpath was evident, and being in this section of the country, pointed at Fort Platt’s having been selected by them to make a raid upon. : This became a settled conviction in the mind of the scout, when during the afternoon the savages took the trail, following a straight course to Fort Platt. : At once he and Gabe had made for this oint at the top of their speed, arriving as escribed. ~ In less than an hour from the time of Floy Raynar’s advent into the family cir¢le of Mr. Platt, she and Josie were warm friends. Floy’s cheeks lost their color when she} pa heard that they were in danger of being at- tacked that night by the Indians. “On your'very first night with us, too,” said Josie, regretfully. ‘‘I’m sorry, Floy; it is too bad. But you will not be very much afraid, will you? See, I am not. See how steady my hand is.” Josie’s color had fied in spite of her asser- tion that her nerves were steady. She did not, however, show her fear; she would not haye been the daughter of a frontiersman had not she felt a certain pride in being cali- ed a brave girl. “T will try not to be afraid,” was the brave reply of Floy. ‘But I have never had any See cueey ou know”—with a faint smile. ““You have been under fire before, Josie?” “Once, when I was quite a little girl, twelve years ago now. It was the time”— her voice was a little thick and strained— “when they took little Joe away from us.” “ve heard of that, Josie. How was it? How did it happen?” ‘* Joe and I were playing outside, some dis- tance away from the house. When they came—it was in the daytime—I was™ so frightened that I ran toward the house as until help came, and then they went away, taking my little brother with them.” “* And you have never seen him since ?” in- quired Floy in an interested tone. “ 0. » “Nor heard of him?” ‘‘Not even heard of him,” was the reply. ** And so we don’t know to this day whether he is alive or dead.” : ** How old was he?” ** He was nearly seven then.” “Then he’ would be almost a mannow. But Tam Kespine you from work, Josie; let me help you, an even to firing arifle.. So, there!” and tightly whatever you can do I will do, closing her teeth, Floy arose, and soon was busy in helping prepare for the attack. : Encouraged by the scouts, the men worked like beavers, and by a little after ten o’clock they were as nearly ready as it was possible forthem to be, and then, gathered in the block-house, a brooding silence fell upon them while they waited. Late in the afternoon an Indian scout had peered upon the settlement and had reported to his chief that as yet no alarm had reached these people, whom they had marked for the tomahawk and scalping knife. Near the hour of+ deepest gloom Hard- Heart’s band stole noiselessly toward the fort, until atlast they were at the foot of the stockade. They tried the door, and, as they had expected, found it fastened. ‘** Now, boys,” said Arkansaw, at the door of the block-house, and the men filed forth with faces set and stern, knowing full well sas some of their number might never re- urn. j _Ima whisper the scout gave his orders, and silent and motionless as shadows, they wait- ed for the supreme moment. It was not long delayed. Finding the gate fastened, the Indians began to mount the stockade. At the very moment they were emo in the idea of a victory, bloodless to themselves, a rifle report rang forth; the crack of doom it was to one of their number, and a signal besides to the hardy pioneers. Instantly followed a death-dealing volley, and half a dozen of the Indians who ha, mounted the stockade fell, either dead or dying. ‘‘ Lively—lively!” cried the scout. ‘Load up! They'll make a grand rush now.” He was right. Though disconcerted, Hard- Heart soon recovered his wits, and ordered a rush over the stockade while the rifles of their antagonists were empty. ~ But the scout was quicker than the chief in having his orders executed, and following the sharp crack of Arkansaw’s rifle came an- other volley, spreading terror and dismay among the redskins, who at once beat a hasty retrat. **So far, good!” said the scout, in a satisfied tone. ‘: But they'll be back presently, Hard- Heart will not give up yet.” An hour of profoundest silence succeeded, but it did not deceive Arkansaw, for he was an experienced Indian fighter, and up to all the wiles and tricks of the red devils. Fierce and furious was the onslaught when it did come. But encouraged by Arkansaw, the men stuck bravely to their posts, and ghee again their savage foes were driven c Another long silence followed, broken: at last by a cry of alarm from one of the white men as he Ponce at a flaming arrow burst- ing through the dense gloom, ~~ ‘They are trying to fire the block-house!” exclaimed John Platt. *‘ God help us! it is dry as tinder.” : CHAPTER IIL. “LIGHTNING.” LEAVING two men at the stockade to act as sentinels, Arkansaw hurried the others with- in the block-house. use of by an Indian, fire is the most_to be dreaded, and must be promptly battled with. Should the fire once catch, a delay of a single minute might prove fatal. “ Water!” cried Arkansaw. ‘‘ Water! Fill pie everything you've got that will hold a Springing up the ladder thatled to the scut- tle, he raised the latter a little and glanced over the roof, From some flaming arrows were constantly rising, de- scribing long curves in the air, some of them dropping wide of the mark, others striking ouse, P The sight of the burning arrows, flying like meteors, was a beautiful one; but oppressed by the knowledge of the danger they brought in their flight, not one among the whites could appreciate the scene. With themey H enried 22 dart bore with it a terrible prob- lem—that of life and death. ere “« Water!” exclaimed Arkansaw. “Pass it up livel rr * hey heard, and faces prew pale, and stout. hearts quaked.. The block-housé was on fines But it was where the scout could pour great extent. In a m quenched, ; water on it without exposing himself to any bi ton 3 t Of all the weapons made © distance away ute or two it was i i f of th = fast as 1 could go. Father kept them at bay me sticking upright as SE Nea geaee eee
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> ak Then again came the order for water. But the incipient conflagration was subdued quickly. Again and again the roof took fire, and as frequently was the fire put out. Each time that the fire took, a wild yéll of triumph would come from the Indians, and each time it. was put out there followed a savage shriek of disappointment. They could be likened to nothing else be- sides a pack of hungry wolves thirsting for human blood. Once again the fire caught and once again an eager yell of triumph burst from the throats of the red fiends. The fire had caught in a spot which could not be reached with water from the scuttle. The scout hesitated. The flames began to leap up higher; he could hear them crackle and snap. Heglanced at it. Whatever was to be done, must be done promptly. Strange though it was, at that instant arose before the scout’s mental vision the fair, sweet face of Floy Raynor. He no longer hesitated. It was sure death to all if the fire was not extinguished; and he might come safely ' the redskins as the back. “ Water !” hecried, and stepped up through the scuttle and on the roof. Crack ! A bullét whizzed by close to his head. A fiendish volt rang in hisears. He caught up a pail of water, and with slow and steady steps advanced along the roof toward the spot where it was igniting. Crack! Crack! With his tall form outlined against the sky, played upon by the flames, he would have fallen an easy victim had there been any passable marksmen among the redskins. But all did not possess fire-arms, and those who did were not very expert in their use. Still the bullets flew too close for comfort, one having passed through the fox-skin cap of the scout, and cutting off the long, bushy tail in which he had taken so much pride. _ Splash—hiss—splutter! Back for another bucket. Back and forth he went, made a target of 7 every trip, but seeming to bear a charmed ife. It was a grand sight,'that of this brave and hardy man walking back and forth so coolly, his own life hanaing by a hair, trying to save the other inmates of the fort. There came a wild, maddening, furious cry. It was one of disappointment, drawn from saw the flames flicker, flutter, then die, arid then witnessed thecalm return of Arkansaw to the scuttle, down which he disappeared in a very leisurely man- ner. “Tf we can hold out until daybreak the varmints will give us a breathing spell until night comes again,”’said the scout, as coolly as though he had not just passed through a most trying ordeal. A y had the words fallen from_his movth when Josie Platt, on guard at the door - below, uttered a few sharp words. “Platt, you watch the roof,” dropped like a flash from Arkansaw’s lips. “The rest of you follow me.” stockade, and followed Instantly he eee an Down the stairs and out of the block-house door they flew, and thence to the stockade. “What is it?’ demanded the scout of one of the pickets left there. “They're trying to scale the ‘stockade in!” was the reply. “At least I saw one of the devils put his head over. I had just got a bead on him when he sopppes on the other side, and ran to the right there, : Stepping as lightly as a cat the scout hur- ried away to the gate, keeping in close to the several others. His eyes swept the top of the stockade until at last they encountered a projection which he knew was not the a of one of the stakes, holding up his hand, _ the others halted also. an is and deftly got him by the throat. It was an Indian’s head that he saw. It was turned swiftly this way and that; but its owner failed to see the dark forms so closely hugging the stockade. Only an in- stant the Indian paused, and then he wrig- led over the stockade and lightly dropped the ground. — Ashe did so Arkansaw bounded forward you surrender?” he sternly de- s§ He could see the glowing eyes flasi swiftly about, The Indian saw that he was sur- THE ARKANSAS SCOUT. rounded, and folding his arms, drew himself proudly up. **Wagh!” he grunted. “It is good! Light- ning is a fool—the pale-faces are great braves!” “*He surrenders,” said the scout. ‘‘ Dis- arm him. ‘There take him to the block-house and bind him. ;But stay—Lightning, are roe in this attempt to scale the stock- en” “Can any one get blood from a stone?’ was the figurative reply. * Take him away.” The scout saw thatit would be useless to question their captive. But no further attempt of the kind was made, and the scout’s breath began to come more freely as the darkness Brew, less dense. Devanes not far distant. The burning arrows were sent forth less and less frequently, and finally ceased altogether. And then the darkness disappeared, day broke, the sun arose. Not an Indian was to be seen. But for the blood which be- spattered the stockade, and their prisoner, one could have imagined the events of the past terrible night had never transpired. ** Let us have a look at our prisoner,” said the scouf, about an hour after sunrise, when all Re AS of attack was passed, They brought forth the young Indian, his hands bound in front of him. ** Why, he is scarcely more than a boy!” exclaimed the scout. The Indian’s figure became proudly erect, his lip curled with scorn and his eyes flashed. “‘T have then the more years in which to avenge the red man’s wrongs!” he grunted, in the Indian tongue, every word of which was understood by Arkansaw. “ Why did you venture all alone to try and get inside the palisades ?” z s Pichboive cele boy, butold as hills here,” smiting his breast. “Injin village leave Sunlight—Sunlight_ walt see Lightning bring scalps—then Sunlight go to wigwam of Lightning. Some day pale-face hide head when hear name of Lightning—big brave den—chief maybe,” and he ‘glanced proudly about him. ? “Tf I let you go do you think you can get Hard-Heart to draw off his braves?” **Wouldn’t do if could—radder be killed first,” was the reply. ‘‘ Night come again, sometime, nodder time—Hard-Heart scalp —kill—burn.” “But he can’t conquerus, See how many we are, and Hard-Heart has but féw braves, Do you know how many?” - The Indian nodded. “How many are killed?” piiehining got no crooked tongue—no tell lie—won’t tell trut’.” The Indians eyes had been wandering about noting everything that was to be seen. They now came in contact with the face of Mrs. Platt ; quick as a flash the rigid lines in his face relaxed, and a-puzzled expression crept.inte it. “* Who you?” he demanded. The abruptness of the question drew at- tention more keenly to the Indian; Mrs. Platt started; a wild idea had crossed her mind. She gazed keenly at him, and her sharp eyes detected what]the others had over- looked—a hole in the hunting shirt through which gleamed a patch of white skin. She sprang forward, tore aside the hunting shirt of the dressed skin, “See!” shecried. ‘‘This is no Indian, but a white man.” é : She shrank away from him, that she might better gaze into his face. Her features were working, herframe was trembling with emo- The word fell from her lips in a pleading, anguished tone. he young Indian started as if he had heard a familiar sound. “ Joe! Lam your mother, You are a pale- face, and not an Indian.” She would have sprang upon him and en- closed hith in her arms, ut he stepped Repel. back. C * Lightning no pale-face—Lightning Injin.” ** But see—your skin is white.” “ Manitou an with Lightnin —make Lightning with white skin. Injin—heart Injin—all Injin ’cept skin—an’ skin easily cover with war-paint.” - A acre A boy! do you turn away from me? Do you not remember my face—my voice? There—look closely,” and the an- 's mudder uished woman brushed the hair back from er forehead with both hands, With bated breath the others watched and listened. Was this the little Joe stolen from them twelve years before? There could be no doubt of it. Long and fixedly Lightning gazed on the woman who had given him birth; had nursed him, on whose breast he had Jaid, whom he had called ‘‘mama.” _ His face indicated that a struggle was going on within his breast, that memory was struggling to recall the past. But his savage tutors had done their work well. Every natural impulse had been changed, and he was at heart as thorough an es as though his skin had been red as ood. Mrs. Platt—poor woman!—stood there with outstretched arms, dumbly pleading for one look of recognition—one single call of ** mother.” But it did not come. Instead, the face hardened, and he turned coldly from her. “You not Lightning mudder—she gone to happy hunting-ground. Pale-face squaw heap fool—Lightning all Injin—scalp—burn —kill—take scalps back, den Sunlight come to wigwam.” ‘*God help me!” moaned the poor woman. “Oh, Jo oe, surely you have not so com- pletely forgotten me ok once again——” **Pale-face squaw heap fool!” he angrily said. “‘No Joe—me Lightning—young Injin brave. Don’t believe it? Then see!” Before any one could comprehend what he was about, they saw him slip his hands from his bonds, and the next instant he was bounding toward the palisades, One grand epae placed his hands on top of them, and he then drew himself SHEN up, gaining the top, and uttering a shri yell of defiance. John Platt’s rifle sprang to his shoulder. He took a swift aim—his finger pressed the trigger. * John—John, do not shoot! Remember, he is our son John Platt’s face was set and stern, but terribly anguished in expression. * He isan Indian in heart and feeling— would betray us—would scalp us all,” he hoarsely said, and then—— Crack! A wild shriek came from Mrs. Platt, then a blood-curdling yell from beyond the stock- ade. “The Indians are upon us!” gasped the scout. And so they were. CHAPTER IV, REPULSED AGAIN, _‘ THe Indians are upon us again!” So the scout had exclaimed. It was acom- plete surprise to him, as Indians very rarely, under those circumstances, would attempt an attack except under cover of night. But, as we have said before, Hard-Heart was no common Indian, but was far more in- telligent and active than most redskins. Though he had called off his braves and had retired, it was to no great distance. At’ once he had posted several Indians in trees, from which the interior of the stockade could beseen. When Li stag feed brought forth and stood surrounded by the whites the information was conveyed to the chief. He bade the scouts look sharp. Presently he learned how great an object of interest the young captive had become, that the very guards had deserted their posts to gather near the motherand son and watch the agonizing scene in progress. Instantly he grasped the situation. There was now an excellent opportunity of surprising the whites. e uttered a few words. With an astonishing celerity the braves prepared for an attack, and in a few minutes were softly stealing across the open space be- fore the stockade. When half the distance had been crossed they suddenly saw the figure of Lightning 3 ee on top of the stockade, and a murmur of admiration ran from lip to lip. It was a feat worthy of a great brave to es- ood | cape from the midst of his enemies in such a manner, \ 5 They heard his cry of defiance, and on the impulse of the moment joinedin withit, © rack! It was therifleof John Platt == Se SS SS - ow re
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R —— Lightning half sprang, half fell from the stockade on the outside. The bullet had flown wide of its aim, for Mrs. Platt had rushed forward and knocked _up the muzzle of the death dealing weapon. “Whatever else he may be, he is our son still!” she solemnly said. “To.arms!” cried Arkansaw. ‘Ha! some of you have left your guns in the block-house. Get.them—lively! Every man who is armed stand by!. Steady! All loaded up? “Then follow me!” The gate in the stockade being the most vulnerable pons stages had been erected on each side of it; on these the men sprang, one- half on each, and prepared to thrust the muz- zies of their rifles into the downward slant- ing loopholes, so placed as to command the space before the gate. At this the Indians were rushing pell-mell, and in a body suddenly flung themselves against it, causing it to creak and groan and tremble. “Now!” cried a low, firm, stern voice. “ Fire!” 'Crack—crack! Crack—crack ! we Each man of them had selected his own vic- tim; they very rarely wasted powcer and lead ; four of the red demons were sent to the happy hunting grounds. * Load !” cried the stimulating voice of Ar- kansaw. ‘Ram home thecharges! In with the lead! Ready! Fire!” Crack—crack ! — Orack—crack |! Crack | Again the redskins had flung them- selves against the gate, Crack—crack |! + Crack—crack! Those who had rushed into the block-house for their weapons were back now; were on the"platform ; those] who had*fired already had fallen back from the loopholes to give them a chance. : Nine or ten of the Indians had fallen. Such punishment they could not stand; a panic was breaking out among the survivors. Like -a good general, Hard-Heart saw this and or- dered a retreat, and away they scurried, leay- ing their dead behind them. The long, lank form of the scout arose above the stockade, he took a swift but care- fulaim, and fired. The headlong swiftness of one of the Indians was for one moment ac- celerated, and then he fell heavily and re- mained motionless. parson The others never paused to pick him up, but only fled the faster, swiftly carrying them- selyes beyond rifle range, and then disappear- ing into the woods. The scout leaned over the stockade and counted the fallen Indians I laughed that peculiar, noiseless laugh of his, and turning to John Platt, said : “Well, what between last night and just now, we've reduced their band more than one- half, Ishould judge. ‘This experience ought tosicken’em. But 2 yee we have a little ub and some hot coffee ; I kinder feel gone ere,” laying his hand on his stomach, Pausing first to give some orders abou keeping up the guard, he and John Plat went toward the block-house. At its door they were met by Mrs. Platt, who asked, ina strained voice: “Was he there?” “e Yes.” ? ; «© And—and—was he—did he—fall?” “ No,” and Arkansaw’s voice was filled with Sympathy. ‘*‘ Nota man among us but what would spare him for your sake. The table was spread when the men enter- ed, and Josie Platt and pretty Floy Raynor were there ready to wait on them. TIwomen were left on guard; the others were soon thered, and then the brave defenders re- reshed themselves. —Before the first mouth- ful was taken, however, the scout, in a sim- ple, earnest tone, said: “© We are all here.” They knew what he meant, and probably there was not a man among them whose heart did not return thanks for his preser- vation. The scout’s words touched Floy, and she thought: Z it‘‘ Ife is a good man—as good as he is brave.” __ “ Religious!” and John Batt laughed heart- ily. ‘ Religious!” and he turned from his Busts, and called to the scout; “I say, Arkan saw “* Hush, uncle, please,” pleaded Floy. _ But her uncle dia not ised: cs - which done, he} f THE ARKANSAS SCOUT. “Tsay, Arkansaw, come here; Floy wants to know if you ain’t very religious ?” The scout smiled. He could smile if he chose to, and it changed his expression won- derfully. **No, Miss Floy, I ain’t ‘zactly religious, and have never been inside of a church but mighty few times. But I ain’t ascoffer at re- ligion. Do you see the sun shining there? So do I, and at night I can see the stars. And I can see the leaves come out on the trees, and I can see the grass grow. And that makes me know that there is a God, thoughI never could drop into the regulation way of thinking of Him.” Again he smiled on her, and then turned and walked away. It hardly seemed like day in the fort; the usual bustle was absent, and a quietness and hush hung over the place, for the men were seats and recruiting their strength, for it was to be supposed that the Indians would return to the attack again during the com- ing night. hortly after dark, Arkansaw and Gabe stole Ss from the fort on a scouting expe- dition. When they returned, an hour later, their faces were lighted with an expression of satisfaction. * “Unless ’'m Sone out of my reck- pais the Injuns have pulled up stakes and it out.” ** Gone?” said John Platt. . “Yes, gone; they fot so badly treated that they have made up their minds that if they was not strong enough at first, they certainly ain’t strong {enough now to hope to carry the fort. I miss my guess, or we won’t see’em to-night.” ~ % Nor did they. The night passed query without alarm, and when morning broke, the dead bodies still lay in front of the gate of the stockade. Hard-Heart’s desertion of his dead was ample proof that he was thoroughly de- moralized. “*But don’t you crow too much,” caution- ed the scout. ‘* You may notsee anything of Hard-Heart for a week, or a month, ora year, but don’t. you believe that he will ever forget or forgive last night’s work. He will come back to avenge his ill-suecess when he has the force to do it, and when he comes it will be suddenly, and with the force of a whirl- wind ; mark my words,” said Arkansaw, sol- emnly, “and never relax a vigilant guard, and keep prepared.” Under the scout’s leadership, was dug, into which the eat tumbled, and then covered up with earth. “There is no present danger,” said the scout, in reply to a question of Platt’s. ‘*Me and Gabe will leave you in a few minutes, -" and his brow wrinkled. “Hard- Heart’s band is still strong enough to do a big lot of deviltry. He may go further down the river, and strike the single families scat- tered about.” _After a few minutes spent in an examina- tion of his weapons, Arkansaw stalked into the block-house, which he entered as the sun wi Good-bye, alll” h ia ood-bye, all!” he said, gruffly. “Good-bye !” said Floy, glancing up at him with a sweet look on her face, *“Good-bye'!” said Josie, and then Mrs, Platt uttered the same words, adding: a large grave Indians were ““Arkansaw—my poor, benighted boy!—j spare him!—save him if you can “*T will,” was the reply, and Ga left the fort. Deg pee CHAPTER Y. THE TOMAHAWK AT WORK. . ARKANSAW had made a study of Indian nature, and guessed close to the truth when he said that Hard-Heart, in all probability, would try to wipe out the disgrace and avenge his loss at the fort by attacking and wiping out such solitary and defenseless families as he could safely swoop down upon, A good politician is one who foresees the bent of mind of the general public and makes it his own, thus appearing to lead, when in reality he is led. So it was with Hard-Heart after he and the survivors had reached their camping ground in the woods. Usually the Indians would have submitted to any deci- sion ofhis, however intricate. But just now they were rendered ungovernable by their losses, and were smarting for @ revenge which they did not dare to try and exact from the defenders of the fort. ; This he saw, and governed himself accord- — ingly. fie gained their attention and began a short speech by saying that the fort was qe strongly defended than he had sup- posed. **The pale-faces outnumber us' two to one,” he said. ‘ Against any less odds who could have withstood the brave warriors before me?” and the braves were tickled by the flat- tery. ‘“‘Wesent out the Panther to scout, but his tongue was crooked, and he told us what was not so” (Panther was dead, or Hard-Heart would hardly have dared to ac- cuse him of lying). ‘But all pale-faces are the same—we hate them all equally, and for every brave that has fallen here we will kill two pale-faces. They fill the’land—they are not far from here—only an easy march. What say my brothers? Shall we go upon the death-trail and wipe out this disgrace and take home many scalps, or shall we re- turn empty-handed ? Hard-Heart has Spor EDs You all know what his answer would be: ‘Let¥not a‘pale-face live, let the tomahawk drink the blood of all of them!” This political speech was hailed with ar plause, and in a few minutes they were on the move. As the sun was fe sinking to rest they reached the edge of a small clearing, in the center of which stood a SEeca rontiers- man’s log hut. The husband and father was standing in the doorway, with amused face, watching the gambols of his two sturdy chil- dren as they played hard by. The mother was bustling about in the in- terior, Brepariig supper, occasionally pausing to bend for a second above a rude cradle in which her youngest born was lying. Smoke was curling up from the chimney and mounting heavenward in paecetal rings. The smilingffaced father, the happy chil- dren, the ascending smoke, made up a singu- larly attractive picture of sweet content and ace, prYet it was without charm to those dark- faced fiends whose glowing eyes were gazing about and upon the scene. The attraction te them was in counting the scalps to be taken. ** Wagh!” grunted Hard-Heart. The others held themselves in readiness. with muscles gathered like panthers prepare for a spring. A ates Xe Hard-Heart was the best shot with a rifle of any of their number, and he was now taking aim at the pioneer, who stood allun- ~ conscious that his soul was trembling on the brink of eternity. The plone formed a splendid human target, and could have found no better one under any circumstances. Crack! “ : A rifle’s report suddenly broke in upon the | almost holy quiet of that peaceful spot. The pioneer dropped dead on his doorstep, with- outso much as.uttering a moan or a sigh. Aninstant later followed an appalling yell from the throats of the Indians, now bound. ~ ing across the clearing with the ferocity of tigers, making straight for the children, who had stopped_ playing, and who now watched | the approach of the Indians, frozen with © terror. . 2 oa Itis customary to ascribe a high degree of courage to Indians. There may bean excep- tion, but as a rule they are contemptible — cowards, attacking only when in superior numbers, orso ambushed as to enable them ~ to shoot down their enemies unseen, and then rush inupon the survivors while they are in consternation and confusion. Crafty and ~~ vindictive they certainly are, and cruel as — hell itself; no other comparison than the foregoing can possibly be made. een “Mama—mama!” came the piteous cries — of the children. “~ s They were in the clutchesof the red fiends. — Tomahawks flashed; those who ‘had beeh — successful in winning the prizes uttered shrill © cries of savage glee and tore off the reeking scalps, then turned and bounded toward the ~ hutin the wake of those who, disappointed in not first reaching the children, had turned ~ their attention toward the mother. Ba The latter had sprang to the door after her husband’s fall, and aloud shriek of anguish © was wrung from her heart as she witnessed , the fate of her paper 4 In another minute she was struggling in the gras pot a poe dashed by eee | caught sight of the in the cradle, and slaughtered it before her eyes. ; “ 4 Ten minutes later Hard-Heart and his band were swiftly retreating from the spot, and
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- _ its scorching embrace. Like a tornado they had swept down on this ful spot, leaving naught behind but terrible devastation. At Hard-Heart's belt hung the scalp of the pioneer, it being his right as he had shot the ard-Heart stalked Lightning. “Where are Lightning’s scalps?’ asked Hard-Heart, sarcastically, glancing at the man. Beside other’s bei. “He has taked none,” was the reply, in the Indian tongue. (The reader will understand, without our repeatedly alluding to it, that we give a free translation in English, to seve trouble.) * And does Lightning expect to be smiled ae by Sunlight if he returns ¢mpty-hand- “Lightning does not wish that the first scalp that hangs at his belt should be that of a child,” was tke proud reply. “Tt is well,” ed the Eagle.” The young Indian—for such he was. though his skin was white—carried his head - alittle more Brygaly: “TJ will never fight with children,” glanc- ing contemptuousy toward the Indian at whose belt hung the scaip of the infant. Despise and condemn his white blood as he sie this feeling was due to that, and that alone. ** You will have achance soon to fight with others,” said Hard-Heart. ‘Then we shall see whether Lightning is a faint-hearted ‘squaw or a brave.” ' ** We shall see.” Not many miles from the spot where this terrible scene had been enacted stood an- other hut. Night’s mantle was upon it when the red fiends drew near it; its inmates were pescctelty slumbering, nor knew that the|G es troyer was near. _. Ahuge log was lying near the hut. It _ ‘was raised, and at the word of command _ from Hard-Heart the Indians ran swiftly to- ward the hut. Crash! ; | The door, strongly made and secured as it _ was, was carried from its fastenings at the first blow, and the sleepers awoke with the din of the Indian whoop in their ears, The hut contained two able-bodied men— ' and Heaven knows they did all they could— two wn women and four children. ; Lightning was one of the first to enter the hut. He encountered one of its inmates and ‘grappled with her; a shriek informed him _ that it was a woman instead of a man. - - He uttered a chagrined cry, and raised his tomahawk fo strike. : rite “Mercy! Spare me!” cried the girl, in pit- eous tones. The tomahawk wavered—some inward strike her down—that a man should fighta man, - _ Cluteching her wrist, he led ber from the _ hut, and holding hiscaptive, waited patientl _ until the bloody work was done and the tore sbpleds and then, when the retreat began, ‘fell into line with his prisoner. -_. Day was breaking when they halted ina little glade, waters emptied into the Arkansas river. , Sullen- » With arms folded across his _ breast, he stood beside his captive as Hard- _ Heart approached him about an hour or so = later. “Lightning has a prisoner. Has he re- served her for the stake ?” “The young Indian was silent. ; “No,” added Hard-Heart, repeat of “He ’ has saved her because he is a weak-hearted hoy. He feels faint at the sight of blood. He _ is not a brave in his heart. He is fit only to ig and work like a squaw. He has no busi- “ness on the ibe and¢ should be with the ‘women. Sunltes t will be glad when Light- ning comes back—she will love this pale-face, At will take her and Lightning into her “The young Indian’s eyes had flashed, his face had worked as these taunts were show- upon him. At mention of Sunlight’s name his hand had leaped to his tomahawk and he scowled on his captive, who cowe. the flames were rapidly wrapping the hutin on yer min So spoke Ga nted Hard-Heart. ‘ Light- ning soars a hig er game. He should be call- dians, Arkansaw too wards the clearing alluded to. Halt way there he suddenly paused. __ oe s it, pard? Indian sign?” inquired were descendin mints may have halted. It was well for them that the place was thickly covered with bushes, or even then they must have been discovered by the In- dians, so close were they to the camp. This information was conveyed to them by an ee speaking in a louder tone than usual. “ Ha! we are right upon’em,” muttered Ar- kansaw, and at once step trail, entering the thickest growth of bushes to be seen, and then, flat on his stomach, he “monitor told him it would’ be unmanly to beside a small creek whose him—save bloody mission. “Tf my aim is as pail Ped ly cast an inquirin orders, and merely cast an ingu 1| toward him, as if aski arther 6 '“*Make a short detour to the north, and cover your trail ep thet creek, | Tu} ‘THE ARKANSAS SCOUT. Another second and it would have been buried in the girl's h Crack! The handle was cut in twain, the blade dropped, in his hand he held but a stump. For one instant an intense silence followed, and then the woods re-echoed with a mad- dened yell. CHAPTER VI. SURROUNDED BY FIRE, “ WELL, pard, I see you’ve got somethin a: What is it?” Jickett, coming to a halt, and laying a hand on Arkansaw’s arm, when they had got out of sight of the fort. **You can read me pretty well reply, in a grave voice. “ Yes, I have got suthin’ on my mind, and Ill tell what ’tis. Last night, use after sundown, it struck me that the sk south of us here, just as if there was a fire, and I’m durnedly afraid that Hard-Heart’s band have paid Sid Gtlick a visit. We must make straight for his clearin’ now.” Acquainted with every foot of the woods, the scout was able to save considerable /dis- tance, His fears proved to be only too well found- | f ed, for all that was left of Sid Gulick’s hut was a pile of embers. 2 Arkansaw at once examined the trail, and when he saw its direction, he at once hoarse- ly said :- : **Come on, Gabe, the red devils straight for McGrath’s claim.” —_ Instead of slowing the trail of the In- away to the south. Meet me at any of the old places.” Gabe was dashing away already when the wild yell of the Indians burst out. , At first they had been thunderstruck, but quickly recovered when Hard-Heart signifi- cantly pointed to the cloud of smoke curling up above the clump of bushes in which Ar- kansaw was concealed. Half a dozen seemed on the point of rush- ing to the spot, but suddenly changed their ~ minds, and hung back; probably only one man was concealed there, still there might be adozen. § A few guttural words from Hard-Heart, sharpl dele and then half a dozen rifles ou their leaden rain into the bushes. ut Arkansaw was not there to receive the bullets. He ene silently as he heard the reports. 33 He had drawn their fire, and now he had iS nothing to fear. s He epddey showed himself to them, to the south of the little camp. He had been load- : ing up, and when they saw him he was in - : the act of drawing the ramrod from the + barrel. Waving his hand in defiance, he 4 dashed away, followed by angry cries of ex- ecration from some, while others of the In- dians uttered ejaculations something akin to ear. “Tt is the Trackless!” they gasped. They had recognized the long, lank figure of this pale-face, who seemed able at any minute to cause his trail to disappear. The more superstitious among them were inclined to believe him a supernatural being. Hard-Heart was not among the latter num- ber, and uttering the battle cry, he dashed away in parsolls followed by all but two or three of his men. | Arkansaw kept in advance, just beyond rifle range, at every opportunity allowing them to obtain a glimpse of him, and suc- - ceeded in this, as on a former occasion, in te drawing attention away from the trail left by 2 his companion. ae? On—on—they went, mile after mile, main- 3 “ taining about the same distance apart. Ar- ; kansaw thought it about time to practice his peculiar tactics on his pursuers, but had as yet been unable to find a proper spot. . Tired, panting, nearly exhausted though the pursuers’ were, they stuck to the chase, for Hard-Heart was determined this time to = ut an end to the existence of the Trackless te if he could possibly do so. ’ = Hard-Heart's eyes were glowing and stern- ly set, his teeth gritted together, every mus- cle was tensely strained. He had much to avenge; the Trackless had killed many a brave, whose spirit called for vengeance. If he could capture the Trackless alive, and put him tothe torture? If he could—and his ups were drawn back like those of a snarlin blood-hound, and the breath he drew hisse through his teeth. On—on—up hill, down dale, On—on— through thicket, and wood, and open ground. © On—on—ten, twelve, fifteen miles from the * camp beside the creek, On—on—still on they went. The country was becoming very flat, the thickets were less dense, the trees of more stunted growth and much fewer in number, And then the trail was lost. The Indians scaftered, but hunt as they might they could not discover where it had disappeared, nor could they find where it again commenced. ith his brow black as a thundercloud, Hard-Heart sullenly started about ina circle, the size of which he gradually increased, hop- ing to strike a trail. At last he passed neath the last tree extending toward the west, and gazed out over the stretch of prairie beyond, covered with a tall, rank growth of grass. is pA atte look came into his eyes, anda cruel smile wreathed his lips asathought — flashed into his brain: t : Perhaps ‘the Trackless had entered this J grass, and was now concealed from sight in aaj? st some little hollow, or was lying flat on his stomach. =e? ; He could observe no place where the grass © was trampled or broken by being passed = — through. Still there was’ chance that he might be hidden in it. hla e gave a few orders, and at once the © Indians separated. ets Half an pone peered: an hour came and ~ went. The hour became two. ME ete Then there was a stir in the grass, and a - ;
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—_——$ $$$ $— — — | body might have been observed moving. A head was cautiously raised, and peered through, rather than over the heads of the Tt was Arkansaw. He sighted Hard-Heart Bp. in the tree, his eyes roving over the smooth prairie beyond him. **¥ don’t like this altogether,” muttered Arkansaw, as he sank down flat on his stomach ain. ‘Their suspicions are aroused, and there’s some deviltry the wind.” And there was. He soon discovered its nature. A flame of fire suddenly mounted heaven- ward near the tree where Hard-Heart was stationed. *T must get out of this pretty gosh-darned lively,” gasped Arkansaw. ‘“They’ve fired the prairie, the devils.” He faced the west, and his cheek paled as his eyes encountered another flame rising there. He turned to one side and then to the other, and found fire there. He was surrounded by fire, all leaping swiftly toward a common center—and that center himself! “Well,” he muttered, “I guess this fixes me. Ive beenin a good many tight boxes, but this is the worst yet. Yes howl, ye bloody red devils!”—peering at them over the ass—‘ you've trapped the Trackless at last. *m durned sorry now that I didn’t put that bullet in Hard-Heart’s noddle-box, Wonder if I couldn’t fetch him now—I'd feel then as _ if ’'d sorter squared accounts,” and he raised ga rifle and took a careful aim. CHAPTER VII. — A GAME OF DODGE.” Stowty Arkansaw raised his rifle to bear on the figure of Hard-Heart, who was perch- ed on a tree, scanning the burning level be- fore him. With his finger on the trigger ‘Arkansaw paused and flashed his eyes across the intervening space between himself and the bloodthirsty Indian chief. : It would be a pretty long shot. 3 He affectionately patted the stock of his rifle, an excellent one for those times. «J know you'll do all you can,” he mutter- ed, agv'if the insensible object understood his wrords. ‘But I’m afeard it’s a trifle beyond yer. However, Tl try.” He slapped the barrel to cause the powder to settle into the nipple, so that there would be no miss-fire. He was in the act of once more taking aim when he suddenly paused, raised himselt up a trifle more, and took a long and scrutinizing look at the fire on all sides, which was closing in on him with the speed of a race horse. are Then a scornful smile parted his lips, “J think I see a way out of this predica- ment that'll puzzle ’em wonderfully. I'll save the lead pill for yer, Hard-Heart, until another time. Now for the buff'ler.” - A few hundred yards from the spot where he had crouched, Askansaw had come across the body of a dead buffalo, partially skinned. Whoever had killed the animal had been frightened away before securing the skin. 0 this spot Arkansaw ay. crept on hands and knees. In a minute his keen hunt- - ing-knife was at work, and in a remarkably + short time he had off the skin. Twenty or thirty feet away, the buffalo, in his dyin agonies, had torn up and pawed the eart ‘savagely, then had staggered until he fell where the scout had found him. ot. To this torn-up spot the scout hastened, anda cry of joy escaped his lips as he saw one hole that was Jarge enough to accommodate _ iis body and still leave it below the level of the earth. From the edges of this hole he Bes Y. frantically tore the grass—for the fire was " dangerously near. Then he flung himself into ye the fiole, and drew the buffalo skin over him, | and its hot breath had already scorched his "face and caused the hair on his head to shrivel at the ends. 5 - None who have not witnessed a rairie on THE ARKANSAS SCOUT. the scout shuddered, and it was no disgrace. Then the earth began to feel the effect of the flames, and became hot. The contracted space in which he was be- came stifling. The air became heated until each drawn breath was like taking steam into his lungs. : And yet he hardly dared raise the skin. Did he do so, he might be suffocated by the smoke made by the smoldering fire which was now consuming the roots of the grass, or he might invite an equally great danger—dis- covery by the keen eyes of the Indians which he knew were now roving over the burned vista. ; The heat started the perspiration from every pore until it ran in little rivulets all over his body. He gasped, at last, for breath, Fresh air he must have. He raised one corner of the skin. But he was hardly any better off, forthe smoke be- gan to curl through the opening, charged with the odor of burnt hair, the hairy side of the skin having been uppermost, Hotter and hotter became the earth. To lie in one position was impossible, for the heat became*intolerable. He put this hands down but quickly took them up, and felt of them, fearing the palms were all blistered. Then occurred an accident he had never taken into account. His rifle became so heated that it discharg- ed itself. The sharp crack was heard by the Indians and produced a rumbling shout of mingled astonishment and joy, and Hard-Heart’s eyes moved more keenly over the space before him. He discovered the carcass of the buffalo, and though he knew it was too large for that of a man, correctly judged it to be what it was; he reasoned that the scout might be ly- ing flat on the ground back of it, and he ut- tered a shrill yell of satisfaction. The crack of the rifle had come from that direction, but he had been unable to distinguish the smoke from that arising from every side; living or dead—Hard-Heart was Dostetys that Arkan- saw was under the lee of the buffalo’s carcass and down from his perch he slid, A happy idea had struck the scout. Moving carefully, he bi eal to drag the buffalo skin partially beneath him, and the soft fleshy side was gratefully cool. Now he must see what was transpiring be- yon him. Atany cost it was necessary to earn. Raising his head he peered over the skin and saw Hard-Heart as he stepped foo on earth again. \ “They have discovered the carcass,” mut- tered Arkansaw, as he saw the chief point in its direction. ‘‘ What comes next on the pro- amme? Ha! they are foing to pay it a vis- ft. T must make tracks for sartain. He saw Hard-Heart and the Indians step on the smoking ground, and then hastily start back. “ Tenderfooted, pee ?” laughed Arkahsaw. “ Well, so much the better, it will give me a little time in which to think over my desper- ate situation.” . And desperate his situation really was. The fires had been simultaneously started on all sides of him; consequently he was sur- rounded by Indians. ‘fo escape it would be necessary to As through an open space in their lines, if he could determine where such a space existed. If he could not—if his judg- ment proved to be at fault—he must inevit- ably fall into their hands. Slowly and carefully he began to sweep his eyes around an extended circle. He needed every minute he could obtain ; still, haste at the pre time would have been ruinous, and his movements were so leisurely that a person unacquainted with the circumstances would never have dreamed that this man was in mortal peril. He located the points in the direction of the woods at which the several fires had been started, and then carefully scanned the space between these points in search of Indians. He must make for the woods again, he had decided within himself; to have plunged on across the open prairie would have been to invite the terrible fate he had just ped, for though he could give the Indians odds and then distance them, he could not outstrip the flames. A race horse could not have done it. } *“ That is the spot I must make for,” he muttered to himself, having settled which in his mind, he again turned his attention to Hard-Heart. The chief was just in the act of testing his aid to stand the heat of the ground. He oun follow, sprang lightly in the direction of the carcass. Beteiay his teeth firmly, Arkansaw first loaded his rifle. Then, flinging back the skin, his lank figure straightened itself to its great height. 5 Instantly he was observed, which fact was evidenced by a loud shout, and then the started forward like wolves eager to reac’ and rend their prey to shreds. Up came the scout’s rifle. Tt was actually comical tosee how sudden- ly the Indians halted as that dreaded weap- on was brought to bear. 1 Arkansaw lightly Jaughed, gathered his muscles, then bounded ‘away toward the woods, the air ringing with the whoops of his red enemies. ! He glanced swiftly along the line of the woods, and at two points—just where the fires had been started—saw parties of red- skins break cover and dash toward the point at which he was aiming, from which they were all nearly equally distant. “ Y’m good for half a dozen yards, I thought Arkansaw; ‘and, barring that’s all I want any time.” It was an exciting few minutes which fol- lowed. The scout was putting forth every effort ; never before had heran as he did now. And theIndians were straining to the utter- most to head him off. “Gained!” muttered Arkansaw, when he was within a dozen feet of the woods, and either party of the savages was as many yards eb ¥ Unless they fired upon him, he felt safe. Crack! - Crack! Crack! Seeing how matters stood, the Indians _be- n popping away at him eager to shoot him own ere he gained the cover of the woods. But their very eagerness and excitement de- feated the purpose of their whistling bullets, although one of them came close enough to the mark to make Arkansaw shake his head as a dog does when he hears a bee buzzing about his ears; the bullet scraped the skin from the tip of his ear, Crack! _ Crack! Crack! Then came a shrill Arkansaw, unharme of the woods. ess,” ullets, of defiance. As we have said, they were or open here at the edge of the prairie land, and he was far from being actually safe yet. for there was little to intercept the course o: a bullet. His long legs never got over ground more rapidly than now. Away he sped, deeper in- to the woods, striving toreach a point several miles off, where the undergrowth began to thicken and the woods were more dense. And after him the savages headlong dashed howling like maddened and disappointe beasts of prey. ; Tired, out of breath, far enough in advance it bearable, and ordering his men to ~ had gained the cover © to warrant it, Arkansaw at last paused to ~ rest, leaning his shoulder inst a giant tree. A dead silence prevailed save for his heavy breathing and the distant yell of his pursuers. ; Some slight noise caused him to pees face about. Behind him was an Indian, in whose glittering eyes was a flash of triumph, and a poised tomahawk was in the act of de- scending to cleave his skull in twain. Like lightning the scout recoiled and placed the trunk of the tree between himself and the — Indian. The latter ged closely the other side of the trunk, and then the foes began— actuated by the same ideas—to slowly circle about the tree, waiting an opportunity to deal a fatal blow. It wasa game of dodge! - CHAPTER VIII. ALONE IN THE WOODS. : For a full minute after the handle of his tomahawk was cleft in twain by Arkansaw’s _ bullet, Lightning gazed at the stump in his hand, a deeply puzzled expression on his face, Then the words of Hard-Heart, the shout which followed, enabled him to comprehend how it had happened. When he saw Arkansaw expose himself to — ve their view, he, like the rest, was fired witha
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— 3 TTA tee, THE ARKANSAS SCOUT. mad desire to kill this Trackless, who so boldly bearded the lion, who flung defiance in their teeth, and like a shot he was off in the wild chase which followed. He had, however, gone but a very short dis- tance when a thought of his prisoner flashed across his mind, and halting suddenly he be- _ Zan retracing his steps. He reached the spot in time to catch an In- dian, who had craftily hung in the rear, in the act of braining the girl. ** Hold!" cried Lightning, sternly. ‘Is the Wolf a thief that he would steal the scalp that beiongs to another?’ The Indian turned swiftly toward the speaker, and though he delayed the intended ‘stroke, did not release his clutch of the girl. “Tt is now the scalp of the Wolf,” was the surly reply. “‘The Lightning deserted_her. She was running away when the Wolf crossed her trail and captured her.” “Tt is false! I left her where she now stands. She has not moved a step since I left her. Let the Wolf find scalps for him- self,” and with sternly set face, Piensa earatred and also took hold of the frightene girl. ‘“This is my scalp,” was the stubborn re- ply, ‘‘and I mean to haveit. Why did not my brother take it when the fire was burning onder? He was faint-hearted. Lightning has the heart of a dog—he is not an Indian— but is a pale-face and a squaw.” The olf had overheard Hard-Heart’s words, and thought 1t possible to browbeat the pean. Indian out of his captive. “Let my brother go back to where our Jodges are raised—he can help the squaws when they plant the corn again.” A lurid light had leaped into Lightning’s eyes at the first of these insults, but at the last one, every fiber of his being was thrilled with fire and passion. : “The Wolf isa lying dog—let him die! Set Lightning, snatching out his keen knife. Again the tomahawk was raised, this time for sehining’s benefit. Each released his hold of the girl, and then they faced each other, blazing with passion, thirsting for each other's life-plood. The girl, overcome by terror, sank to the ground, and remained a silent and horrified witness to the terrible combat which followed. “Let the Wolf fling away his tomahawk and draw his knife,” said Lightning, haught- ily. ‘‘ Yonder is the prize—she shall be mine or oe The brave will have ner to himself —the squaw will go to the happy hunting grounds.” The Wolf was an older and more experi- enced fighter, had been before on the war- path, and he felt a certain contempt for this untried stripling; besides this, there was an old animosity arising from a rivalry for Sun- lightss hand. *“*So let it be,” he coolly said, and threw away his tomahawk, then drew his knife. “‘Sunlight will mourn one moon, and then will enter the lodge of the Wolf.” A scornful look was Lightning’s only reply. Then they crouched slightly, and with eyes fastened on each other, slowly drew nearer, going around and around, transcribing a Pradaally contracting circle. . It was a scene to hold a witness spell- bound. Not a sound broke the silence save that of _ their breath, drawn through clenched teeth, with a low hissing sound. One made a feint; the other followed suit a moment ‘later. Around and around, wary, watchful—waiting an opportunity to rush and end each other’s life. Clash! The gleaming blades met. ; The ball was opened.* Fast and furious the blades now flew, apse ary flashing when kissed by the sunlight which struggled down through the leafy trees. Clash! clash! Then they close~and clasp in each other’s arms hu tightly. Thus they remained fot fully five minutes, motionless almost as statues. Thus interlocked, neither could strike a blow. The moment of breaking 1oose the chances were tnat’one or the other must fali, and he who exerted himself to break the lock had the chances against him. Panting, each reeling the hot oreath of the other on his:cheek, the glowing eyes separ ie axel, ated by only a few inches and glarin they formed a meture wortny of being im- _ mortalized in enanring marble. - Once the Wolf made a feint of breakin away, but so swiftly did Lightning respon to the movement that he tightened instead of breaking the lock. He had learned that he had ;misjudged his antagonist, that he had found a foe in every inch his equal. Cautiously now but steadily, inch by inch, Lightning forced the Wolf backward. The latter tried to prevent this, but the ground sloped just here, and Lightning was raised a little above him. Then the Wolf tried to turn aside, but found it impossible. What was behind him? What idea led Lightning to force him backward? these questions puzzled the Wolf. He must see what danger threatened him from the rear—it was essential that he should. He must break away at all costs. Craftily preparing himself, fancying that he was Hepes Lightning, he suddenly athered his muscles and broke the lock. ut Lightning was ready and waiting—his hunting-knife described a swift circle above his head, and then was buried to the hilt in the Wolf's breast. The knife had reached his heart, and he fell like a log. The intense, silent, but terribly exciting battle was ended. The passion slowly faded from Lightning’s face as he stood beside the body of his late antagonist and gazed fixedly down on it. “Tt is bad that Indians should slay each other, when every strong arm is needed to drive the pale-faces from our hunting- grounds. But he had no right to try to steal the scalp of my captive. And he called mea dog—a squaw ;” and then a savage, satirical smile parted his lips, as much as to say: “Who is now the warrior and who the squaw ?” hen he turned a gloomy brow and mood look toward the girl who had been the indi- rect cause of the fight. “Spare me!” pleaded the girl, falling on her knees and clasping her hands, aware that he was then deciding in his mind what her fate was to be. Twice he had ates been taunted with having the skin of a white man, and in his memory was still fresh the scene at Fort Platt, when a white squaw had claimed to be his mother. He had always believed him- self to be an Indian, but marked with a white skin, significant of the fact that his red an- cestors had displeased their Manitou. Had his mother been a pale-face woman? Had he been lied to? And then he asked himself why he hesitated to kill women and children when the other braves did not? If they did it, It must be right; and yet the ater no- bleness, inherited with his white blood, cried cut against slaughtering those helpless be- ings. Deewine aside his leggings, exposing his leg, he brusqeuly demanded : * Dat pale-face skin?” *““Yes—yes,” was the eager aol “Thank Heaven, you are not an Indian, but a white man.” He bent a look of scorn on her. ‘Lightning is*an Indian,” he said, haugh- tily, and then pointing toward the depths of the woods, he cried, sternly: ‘‘Go!” Mary M’Grath struggled to her feet and hurried away in the directionindicated. Once only she glanced behind her, and then it was only to see Lightning standing there, gloomy- browed, stern-looking, erect and rigid, his arms folded across his breast. His savage, unyielding appearance alarmed her lest he should repent, and she called on her trem- bling limbs to as swiftly carry her away from the spot as they were ent of doing. She never paused in her flight until ex- haustion compelled her to do so. * Night came on and found her in a deep glen, nearly impenetrable for anything ex- cept a wild beast. — And here, crouching down at the foot of a tree, she passed the night, her mind filled with terror by the howls of the wild animals which roamed the forest. When daylight broke she ae led to her feet and sought to extricate herself from the glen’s impassable thickets. With day’s com- ing her courage had revived, and she had sense enough to mark out and lay her course by the sun. All day she battled bravely on toward the home that was now in ashes, but night over- took her once more while yet in the woods. Since the attack on her home, food had not crossed her lips, and she was famished and weak, What a night that was ! 5 Had any of the beasts of prey come across her, she would have fallen an easy prey, for, woman as she was, sleep stole upon her. The next day she spent in searching for food, but the only edible things she found were a few berries. The day following hun- ~ ger’s pangs nearly drove her crazy, and she grubbed in the earth for roots until her hands were all torn and bleeding. = Yet she still clung to hope. $ “‘T must go on,” she told herself. “‘I must NS not pause again until I reach the Platt clear- : ing, to search for food oranything else;” and Ae bringing her will power to bear, the poor girl struggled bravely on, never flagging un- til the conviction forced itself upon her mind that she must have trayeled more miles than _ é laid between Fort Platt and the spot where 3% Lightning had set her free. y hen her spirits flagged; still she pressed on until too weak to take another step. She had done her best. It was ofno use. Faint —exhausted, she sank down, prepared to die, and only praying Heaven that her release from life might be speedy. re CHAPTER IX. ON GABE'S TRAIL. LIGHTNING saw the girl disappear, then stood for several minutes gazing in a blank way at the spot where he had seen the last of her. Next he turned about, took up the tom- ahawk tlung down by Wolf, thrustits handle in his belt, and mechanically followed the trail left by those who had gone in pursuit of A Arkansaw. ; Slowly and thoughtfully he went aloig, his mind filled with unpleasant reflections. <a Hard-Heart would question him concern- tes ing his prisoner. What should he say? = Dared he admit that he had spared the life of ; a hated pale-face? 4 m And the Wolf, too, would be missed. : a Being found at that spot, would he not be te accused of slaying him ; He was now in no hurry to join Hard- Heart's party. Suddenly the moody look in his eyes was . replaced by one of savage glee. ee n the distance he could hear the yells of ' his comrades, Right before him he saw Track- iq less in the act of leaning his shoulder against the trunk of a tree. He could not fight women and babes, but he had the heart of a brave when he could meet a man, His eyes sparkled with antici- pation. es If he could kill Trackless his reputation = would be made. Could he show the scalp of a this dreaded man he would at once be taken * into the councils of the tribe. The old men would respect him, the young ones look up to him with wonder and awe.. Ané@ Sunlight, the daughter of Hard-Heart, would at once come to sit in his lodge, The scout’s back was toward him. Everything was favorable. Noiseless as a cat in his movements, Lightning cautiously approached the scout, ph Osa ti! ma -who stood all unconscious that an enemy was near. Nearer—nearer, an exultant expression on his face, the Indian drew. . The tomahawk was in his hand, ready to perform its bloody work. ; Finally he was within arm’s length of the — dreaded Trackless, and as yet he had not been alarmed. Lightning’sfface was all aglow with satisfaction; this alone was a wonderful feat. He raised the tomahawk, but in bracing his feet to impart the necessary force to the blow, — the Indian made the slight notse which had aroused Arkansaw to a knowledge of hisdan- — ger, and as before described, the scout‘had speedily placed the trunk of the tree between — them. / ‘ a) Then began a peculiar battle. 2 Each of them endeavored to obtain a plicipes of his enemy, yet without exposing himself, — cep Sach knew that the other was on th aler'! ; : i Arkansaw tested this by putting his capon — the muzzle of his rifle and then projecting it~ an inch or two beyond the greatest diameter — of the tree. So naturally did the skin cap come into view that Lightning was positive that a head was inside of it and at once went for i¢ with his tomahawk, ; Clash—h— nap! , The scout laughed, AAS : He had lost a cap, but his enemy had lost — his most available weapon, his tomaha +
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THE ARKAASAS SCOUT. Presently the Indian’s scalp-lock, dressed up with feathers, came within the line of Arkan- saw’s vision. At first he thought the Indfan was practic- ing the same deception on him; a minute later he became satisfied that the Indian was circling about the tree a little faster than he Satie? and that the scalp-lock was fast in his ead. Grasping his knife firmly the scout prepar- ed to grasp the scalp-lock with his free hand,, ank its owner off his pins and finish him up in short order. _ He made a grasp for the scalp-lock, his fin- gers closed about it—the Indian’s artifice nearly cost the scout his hand. As Arkansaw grasped the feathers, Lightning had made a quick stroke with his knife at his antagon- ist’s wrist. “Ha, ha!” lau hed the scout aloud ; ‘‘ we're aren redskin. ‘Lit for tat—that's what I ike. But Lightning made no reply, only looked More grim as he attempted to draw the other's fire to no purpose, or get a sure shot himself. Neither of them dared make a dash away from the tree, for a bullet would have over- taken him before he could have gained a safe cover. And around the tree they cautiously went, guided by the sensé of hearing alone, neither ever obtaining a glimpse of the other. It would have been an even fight had not it been that Arkansaw’s pursuers were rapidly wing nearer. ‘Their reaching the spot would settle the business unless it was set- tled before. + The cold perspiration started from Arkan- Saw’s every pore. _ Nearer and nearer those yells were draw- ing. The situation was growing desperate. Something must be done, and speedily at that. It is said that desperate cases require des- ee remedies, and this is very near to the ruth. Suddenly uttering a whoop, he bounded away from the tree. A swift glance showed him that the Indian’s rifle was ready for busi- ness. : Crack! Whiz-z-z-z-z! The bullet cut only thin air. The scout had dropped in time to ‘allow the leaden messen- ger to fly above his head. we ae his own SAN is finger was on the trigger; his e flashed along the barrel. hemale ponent ed a little—then fell—and instead of shooting he hurled himself on his late antagonist. He bore Lightning to the earth and pinned him there, then drew and raised his knife as if to strike. ** You are Lightning,” said thescout. “If Ispare you, will you spare me should my life ever be at your disposal ?” * No,” was the sullen reply. ‘“‘ Strike!” An Indian is rarely found who fears death. " Arkansaw was nonplused. On the very point of putting a bullet into the lad he had recognized him as the son of Mrs. Platt, and had spared him. He could not kill him now, in face of the promise he had given to that distressed mother. “Lightning isa great brave!” said Arkan- saw, adopting a new line. ‘“‘A brave man is always generous. See! I now give fle your life. Ishall leave you now, an Lightning is not the brave I think him to be if he now tries to follow me or put his brothers on my track. I will tell your pale-face mother that I have seen you, and that you are a brave son. Lightning had arisen to his feet, and with folded arms silently watched the rapidly di- minishing figure of the scout as he widened the distance between ‘them. The pursuing Indians were some distance away, on a line parallel with Lightning;-a single cry from whom would have put the whole blood-thirsty _ pack on the scout’s very heels; but the cry, was not.uttered. Lightning had been put on his honor, and was as true as the high spirited ‘officer who is on parole. And yet he now hated the Trackless, as he called him, as he had never before hated man or beast. But he would not betray him for all that; no, he would remember the hu- -miliation of having been vanquished, and at some future day would square the ac- count. “TknewTdfetch him,” muttered Arkan- saw. “Puta high-minded Indian kinder on __ hfs parole and you can depend on him. Poor little Joe, I used to dandle him on my knee, and he used to put his arm about my neck and tell me he ‘ loved me a bushel.’ And to- day he has tried to kill me. But,” dashing away a tear brought to his eyes by the re- flection. ‘‘I mustn't bea baby myself, but must attend to bizness. The first pint, I rash Sa is to find out what's become of the gual. Knowing the woods like a book he had no difficulty in following acourse which brought him to the spot where the Indians halted. 5 More than half expecting to find the mangled body of the girl, he was agreeably surprised when the expected sight did not meet his eyes; and when he found the girl’s trail, going off by itself, his joy knew no bounds. She had escaped, he concluded. The Indians were close at hand, and he promptly bade adieu to the spot, after having aused in surprise for one instant beside the nee body of the Wolf. Once again the Indians halted here. A death-wail announced the finding of the dead Indian’s body. ““Where is Lightning?” demanded Hard- Heart, with flashing eyes, “He is here.” «* Where is your captive?” ‘ ane erone * How did it happen?’ in an an tone, “T forgot all about her and atarton with the others in pursuit of the Trackless.” *““Wagh! And who killed the Wolf?’ “Has Hard-Heart eyes?” ‘* He has.” “Then let him use them, The [rackless was not alone.” Dien would have scorned the telling ofa direct lie, but a subterfuge such as he now employed was considered a mark of ability, and he did not hesitate to mislead by using it. He had by chance discovered Gabe Wickett’s trail, and the others, put on the ant by the reply, were not long in also find- ing it. ‘ A short council was held. Again had the Trackless_ balked them, but his companion had left a broad and clumsy trail behind. They might still be able to capture him, and wreak on_ him the fury oc- casioned by their previous disappointment, This was the substance of the consultation. Then Hard-Heart gave the word. Like blood-hounds they now started on the new scent. ; Brave as a lion, many years a frontiers- man, Gabe Wickett was still deficient in woodcraft, and though he had once or twice paused and attempted to blind and cover his trail, his methods were all so simple that te Hard-Heart saw through them every ime. ‘* We will soon be upon the pale-face dog!” exultantly said the chief, when he stopped to examine some footprints in a spongy soil. Gabe, in fancied security, sat smoking his pipe at the Hole-in-the-réck. is dream of safety was suddenly and startlingly dispelled. Crack! A bullet, intended to enter the side of his peat carried the pipe from between his With the quickness of a sprin he reached an erect position. swift glance over t e scene, then ste back to thedark hole in the solid rock. Lage Crack! They saw him totter and fall, and then with a wild yell of savage gleeand anticipa- oe they rushed forward to secure their uncoiling, @€ swept a t CHAPTER X. FARKANSAW TO THE RESCUE. UIETLY sitting there smoking his pipe, wondering when Arkansaw would tne an up, Gabe Wickett was a much surprised man, | in when 3, bullet suddenly whistled by within an inch of his head. With a spasmodic motion his legs straight- ened, and he stood erect ; his mouth involun- eet opened, allowing the pipe to fall at his eet. Then he caught a glimpse of the Indians and saw his danger. Crack! © He was just on the point of facing about to ‘spring into the hole, when a second bullet ac- tually skinned his nose. The sting and pain caused him to move so quickly that hecatght his heel, lost his balance, and fell. He made no attempt to recover his equilibrium, but instead gave himself a throw which carried him within the Hole-in-the-rock, and which produced on the minds of the Indians the im- ression that the bullet nad performed the ‘atal mission on which it had been sent. They speedily learned how great was their mistake. Though deficient in woodcraft, there was notan atom of Gabe Wickett’s being that was not brave to the last degree, “The varmints,” he growled, as he quickly upon his teet and rm hand. “I thought I had covered my trail; but I couldn’t a-done so, or they wouldn’t be here. Well, they’ve got me cor- nered, but before they ralse my hair I'll give ’em some occasion for Beate Shouting madly, exuitantly, believing the brave fellow dead, the Indians came rushing toward the Hole-in the-rock, Crack? They had caught a glimpse of the rifle as it was raised, and in wholesome fear some of them had paused. and the leader fell in his tracks. The others involuntarily halted. With steady hand, every movement show- ing that Gabe was as cool as a cucumber, he swiftly reloaded his rifle, never losing so much as a grain of powder. sae ““Now, I’m ready for yer again,” he mut- tered. ‘“ Why dont yer come on, ye pesky devils?” 2 “On!” cried Hard-Heart in the Indian tongue. “Don’t give him time to load u again,” and onward the redskins dashe ain. Gabe held his fire until the leader was within ten feet of the rock, and then he let his rifle speak. ; A second Indian fell, the sight of which made Hard-Heart a howling fiend. In attempting to secure the scalp of one white man two of his braves had already fallen. He sprang into the opening, but another Indian was ahead, a fact which saved the chief’s life, for at a point where there was an angle in the rapidly contracting passage, Gabe Wickett stood. knife in han The hunter could not be seen by the Indian But others dashed on,” asped his rifle witha * until the latter was within arm’s length. , Then it was too late to save himself. keen xnife flashed swiftly over Gabe’s head, and then was plunged hilt deep into the In- dian’s breast. Like a wolf at bay Hard-Heart paused. He dared not go forward and encounter that keen knife which had robbed his warrior of life. Hidden behind the angle as Gabe was, fhe * Hard-Heart could neither shoot nor throw — his tomahawk at him. The chief knew that Gabe’s rifle was un- loaded, that his knife was his only weapon, and consequently did not feel called upon to beat a hasty retreat. Still he could not advance. Finally he caught hold of the dead brave and backed out to the entrance, and the body was placed beside the other two. Sullenly Hard-Heart stood for a few min- utes gazing into that dark hole. Then he or- dered two of his braves to go on fop of the rock where they could see the entrance, to ard it, and if Gabe showed himself to shoot im down. “ He then called the others to one side, out of range of a shot from the interior of the cave, and asked for opinions from the others as to what course should be pursued. It was clear that the place could not be car- ried by an assault, even though guarded by only one man ; and, indeetl, Gabe could easily have kept a thousand of them at bay. They must resort to strategy, Hard-Heart told them, and presently a plan was formed. Gabe Wickett was shrewd enough not to leave his point of vantage behind the angle the passage. He knew that the Indians would be ted so as to command the en- trance, and so he concluded to remain where he was. **T wonder what the pesky brutes are up to now?” he muttered, on hearing some sounds * which he could not understand, and peering cautiously around the angle he became aware ofthe fact that the entrance was being dark- ened by some means, In reality the Indians were engaged in car- tying and piling dry brush before the en- trance, but Gabe was uncertain as to what er doing, until after it had been’ set . Then the crackling of the dry twigs, the
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. rising flames, and the smoke which began to ante enetrate into the holein the rock, informed im. ““Jehosaphat!” he gasped. ‘The devils are going tomake a ham of me, or smoke me out. With an anxious heart Gabe waited for the result of this novel mode of warfare. He had strong hopes that, as there was no draught through the cave, it would not fill } with smoke. Butfor some reason—he afterward under- stood it—the cave began slowly but surely anti with the smoke from the fire, more es- Rees ly after the Indians began to throw on amp wood, which produces ten-fold as much smoke as dry wood, ; Much against his will, Gabe was finally forced to admit to himself that the situation was becoming desperate, for he could no nes breathe standing up, and was com- pelled to go down on his knees. More and more dense became the smoke in the cave, and lower and lower he bent, until his lips almost touched the earthy floor. Even then every breath that was drawn carried a large quantity of smoke into his lungs, nearly suffocating him. But he could stand it yet. “If it w no worse he would came out all right, for if he could only keep them at bay for awhile Arkansaw would ar- rive and rescue him. f That Arkansaw, knowing of his strait, could release him from it, Gabe had no doubt. His faith in Arkansaw’s resources was un- bounded, and Gabe honestly believed the scout to be the greatest man who had ever livedand had a being. © ay. Gabe t a larger mouthful of smoke than usual, and it set him to cobpuing violently, and choked him until he was al- most black in the face. Above ,the crackle and roar of the flames, the Indians heard the welcome sound, and yelled with delight, then spread themselves, and clutched their weapons tightly, and fast- ened their slaring eyes eagerly on the en- trance, watching for the moment when he would be compelled to break cover. But Gabe conquered the suffocation, and now drew his breath with his lips glued to the earth. ape _ earnest. “ The devils! like a worn out dog! - tremit rated from him only by a couple of feet, Still the smoke was pouring into the cave, until at last it was im ible to breathe at all, in any position, under any circumstances. The last act in the drama was at hand. It had finally reached a juncture where he musfé choose one of two things—either to dash from the cave and run the risk of being shot and killed, or captured and bound at the stake, or else to remain where he was, and die by strangulation. “ The devilsf he thought, as fearful pains began to dart through his chest, warning him that he was to sutfocate in real can’t lie here and die ” and then a grim look came into his face. ‘They shall pay dearly formyscalp, Already I've aowned three of the murdering fiends. If ! dash out sudden- ly, I'm good for at least one more with my rite, and perhaps anotner with my knife. That will be five. Even Arkansaw couldn't feel ashamed ofthat.” Cocking his rifle, and loosening the knife in his Gabe Errante, to arise to his feet, ng resolved to sell his life as dearly as e. . In another minute he would have been dashing out of the cave, had not kis atten- tion been arrested by a peculiar sound like that of the rattle of loose stones. Ang then—— *“ Gabe—Gabe!” in a low tone. Gabe had retreated tothe furthest ex- of the cave, and the voice was-sepa- “* Gabe—Gabe!” “ Arkansaw!” he in a thankful . voice. ‘* Hurry pm smothering? ‘The rattle of stones increased, and pres- _. ently he could dimly see a hand thrust through, where, but afew moments before, and Gabe crept t “I carried these toall vt etree had been a solid wall. Presently the b pirb e's was large enough, rough. ~ 4 loose stones in here and piled ‘em up. said Arkansaw, in alow tone in of explan aw tion. “I didn’t know but that Td get cornered here some ony; and pervided e Phew! e draught car- the smoke through here quite lively. It’s onder the varmints hain't discovered the ke coming out of sft aA ee tas ‘ Ligh aine he discovery that Mary McGra the other end of the THE ARKANSAS SCOUT. hole. In with the stones—it’ll only take a | wended their way through the woods, being minute. So—the wall’s as good as ever. Now, come on. Thunder! Hear ’em yell! They have seen the smoke arising from the other end, Lively, Gabe—lively, or, instead of one, there’ll be two of us in a box!” CHAPTER XI. MARY M’GRATH. THIS cave, or as Arkansaw called it, Hole- in-the-rock, was really a passage of varying dimensions, its two entrances separated by a distance of several hundred yards. The half of the cave before which the fire was burning was much larger in its dimensions, and the section of it in which the two comrades now were, was so contracted that they were com- pelled to go on their hands and knees to where it perce in a clump of bushes. When near the outlet Arkansaw paused to isten. Still the Indians were yelling, but he could discover no rush of feet toward the spot where he and Gabe would emerge. It puzzled him greatly to account for the ell, for it was one of triumph, as he well new, from his acquaintance with the Indian tongue, and he could imagine no other reason for it save the discovery of the smoke, which would have informed them of another en- trance to the cave. But his face soon lighted, for the cries of anticipation and joy were followed by others of disappointment. Looking steadily at the fire had blurred the sight of the Indians, one of whom had start- ed the cries of triumph when he thought he saw Gabe Wickett’s form back of the flames and the scout preparing to dash out, while in reality he had seen but a shadow or a more dense mass of smoke. “* We have no time to lose,” said Arkansaw, inalow tone. ‘“ Be careful, pard, and follow my every movement.” Hiasipee thus cautioned Gabe, Arkansaw emerged from the contracted outlet and en- tered the bushes. In a few fleeting seconds Gabe was beside him. Then the scout parted the bushes after a minute’s careful coat eh of the und around, and crept out, followed by Ga *Tt’s curious they hain’t seen the smoke from the opening on this end,” muttered the scout, pausing to look back when he had gained a distance which placed him in com- parative safety. Between the two outlets to the cave stood severallarge and fully leaved trees, which as Arkansaw now saw, formed aperfect veil to the eyes of the eager Indians watching the fire ; and by the time that the small amount of smoke rose above the tops of the trees it was so dissipated in the air as to be hardly visible even on close scrutiny. “Good!” and Arkansaw laughed in that si- lent and peculiar Mi his. ““What is it?” asked Gabe, who had b this time got the strangling smoke out of his lungs and was nearly himself once more. “Seeing you don’t come out the Ingins will let their fire go out and then enter the Hole- in-the-rock. They'll find it empty and won't know how in thunder to account for it. Ha- ha! won’tit rile up old Hard-Heart!” * Well, pard,” and Gabe shuddered a little, “Tm pee glad I'm out of the hole and won't be there to receive’em. Bus how did yer get here just in the nick of time?” In a few words Arkansaw related what had occurred to him since their parting; the chase, the prairie fire, the tree fight with had not been murdered. “Twas on her trail—poor girl, how she must have been frightened! She thought she was makin’ straight tracks for home, but her trail was crooked as a ram's horn. {I fol- lowed its windings, which led me near enough to this spot to hear the crack of your rifle. Knowing that something had turned up, [ put for here, seed the Ingins and the fire, and you know the rest sree te ‘And what’s to be done now?” fnquired Gabe, pepe etal tye “Look after the girl, in course, Poor Mike McGrath! He was the vest-hearted Trishman I ever came across, and tor the sake oe 3G times I’m bound to do all I can for his sister.” . eD * Well, I've got my wind again.” ve “Then we'll be off. Good-bye, Hard-Heart,” Pe ble h toward the dis- t mockingly nodd en he and Gabe silently Indi FOS Br lig te Rest a> | he Ea Eal ie pei careful to blind their trail. As Arkansaw had prophesied, the Indians finally let the fire die out, certain that as Se not come out he had been suffo- cated. Hard-Heart would rather have taken him alive and then tortured him to death, to in some measure requite them for the loss of three of their number; still, it was better to have him dead than living; his scalp was better than nothing at all. Where the fire had burned the rock was too hot to stand upon; but leaping this, the Indians entered the hole in the rock, which they still found filled with smoke, so much so that they were compelled to retire for the present. An hour afterward they were able to ex- plore it to its furthermost corner, and a sur- rised lot of Indians they were when they ound the cave empty when they failed to discover the body of the enemy who had killed three of their braves. Torches were lit to enable them to scan the interior more closely ; he might have crawled into some hole and died, reasoned Hard- Heart. But no—Gabe had vanished com- pletely. Where had he gone? They could discover no means by which he could have escaped except by the entrance be- fore which they had built the fire, and he surely had not passed that. The mystery of the affair created a deep im pression on most of those superstitious child- ren of the forest, and when they were again outside of the cave. they gazed at each other with awe-struck faces, “Wagh!” grunted one. league with the spirits of the air, and this was his companion.” y Hard-Heart, puzzled more than he cared to admit to himself, was nevertheless satisfied that Gabe’s escape was in some wise due to human, and not to a supernatural pant Yet he could offer no explanation, could not even su of the Trackless and his companion which was rapidly growing in the minds of his braves, : As he had so successfully done on former occasions, he tried to draw their minds from a contemplation of their present disaster, by picturing the terrible vengeance which they would cause to descend at some future time on the heads of the hated pale-faces. And he proposed that they should return to the vicinity of Fort Platt at once, and endeavor to swell the number of scalps taken beyond the number of braves who had fallen. When he had finished, one of the oldest ae most experienced braves stepped for- ward, A kere silence followed. “ Has the courage of Long-Knife ever been questioned ?” he finally asked. ‘*None dare question it,” answered Hard- Heart. ‘‘The scalps in “ne brother's wig: wam all have silent but speaking tongues, “It is well! Long-Knife never yet feared to meet an Indian foe or a pale-face one, that lived by eating, that drank by the flowing _- blood brook, that breathed as I do, whose flowed when the knife was drawn, whose heart beat behind solid flesh. But ane Knife wishes not to meet ‘the Track- less, for he is not one of these. Nor is his pale-face brother, whom we saw enter yon “‘Trackless is in | f one to combat the aweand fear ~ cave—who never came forth, yet is not there, I have done.” A murmur of satisfaction boule not stem the tide—it could not be one. ; They refused to return to Fort Platt. *s The place was under the special care of tha Trackless, a victo they believed, and they determ to use- lessly shed no more blood, and Hard-Heart was compelled to yield and lead them back into the forest wilds. ES Three ie later t Of the Patsy, hich had and star’ the h et and they came back nearl empty-han * and therefore. were met with oral are tet oy. Beside a spring in the woods Lightnin; =) pring ‘ feat gas prodid. be liupoes ities So” n hey reached their village. ~~ w dug up away in all the glory of war-. — paint, only one-third of the number returned — ted his ~— th | speech, and do what Hard-Heart might, he 7 at
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5a said big-hearted John Platt. a step as light as a fawn’s she came to where he was standing, moody-faced, with arms folded over his breast; and her dark eyes eagerly scanned his face, waiting for a look of recognition. Has Lightning no soft words for the Sun- light, which has been dimmed during his ab- sence, but now shines brightly again?” “The Lightning has been but a snail in his ace.” Pi And has brought back no sealps?” inquired the ee glancing toward his belt, O. “Did you not remember me, and your arm row strong to strike? A single scalp, and ‘Sunlight would have entered your wigwam. Could you not get even one?” ““Yes—a woman’s, But I cannot kill women and babes. Ihave triedand failed. Sunlight thinks me a coward—a squaw ?” *“No,” was the reply. Sunlight may have been an exception among Indian women, but certainly she had no sympathy for the brave whose only scalps were those of women and children. “The Lightning is a great brave and there should hang at his belt the scalps of none but great braves. I can wait.” “ And you will not go into the lodge of any other brave ? He looked earnestly at her, and as he did so there suddenly flashed across his mind a recollection of the girl he had liberated, Mary McGrath. And he wondered where she was as he slowly entered the village. Had she es- caped safely? Was she with her pale-face friends? | Poor Mary McGrath. Like the brave and plucky girl she was she had struggled on until she could struggle no longer from lack of strength, and then, with- out hope, unaware that friends were ever hour drawing near to her, she had laid herself down to die, her prayer being that death might release her from her sufferings. jleep had mercifully eased her a little; and it was while she slept that Arkansaw and Sint reached the end of the trail and found er. CHAPTER XII. ATTACKED AGAIN, Mary M’GraAtn’s slumber was not broken into, but she was allowed to sleep until she awoke of herself. She could hardly understand it, when on opening her eyes she found Arkansaw and Gabe sitting on a log a little distance away. Sine up, she rubbed her eyes, stared about her, then fastened her gaze wonderingly at Arkansaw, whom she knew. “*How came you here?” she finally asked, in a puzzled tone. yt Oh, I didn't know but what yer might want some help to find your way’ home, so Gabe and me come in search of yer.” ““You have saved my life!” impulsively cried the girl. “I had Jaid myself down to die. I was starving and exhausted.” **And where do hea want to go?” asked Arkansaw, in a kind tone. “Anywhere,” and the tears started to the oor girl’s eyes. “‘I have no home now—it is th a and they are all dead.” ; Fortunately the scout had some liquor with him, of which he gave the girla swallow or two, after which he gave her some food. When she was sufficiently recovered to be able to walk at all, they Started for Fort Platt, which the scout had concluded would the best place totake herto. “And how far is it?” asked the girl. & ““Only a matter of half a dozen miles,” _ “And only to think that after gorning 50 far Ishould have given up hope, have aid _down to die, when so near to friends,” and then the girl shuddered visibly. Supported on one side by the scout, on the ___ other by Gabe, she was enabled to reach Fort _ Platt just before dark. “* Bring her in—bring her in, Arkansaw,” “T guess we ‘ex, find room for her and enough for her to ea “God bless you all,” sobbed r Mary, touched by the kindness of the Platts. ; ay he Nir mae her undress and lie down, and _ then they bathed and bound up her lacerated _ flesh, and brought for her to eat all the good things they taal in the house. - F i “What prone the Injins, Arkansaw?” in- quired John Platt, after the scout had eaten a ‘and going in quest of : lage, and wipe”’em off the face of the earth?” THE ARKANSAS SCOUT. hearty meal. ‘‘ We keep sentinels posted all | and we’d be ambushed as surely as that we night long yet.” “That isright. To neglect a guard might cost you all your lives. However, I don’t think that Hard-Heart will give you ‘any trouble again for some time. The lesson they got here, and the losses they've had since, will take the fight ont of ‘em for awhile. But now about this wee : ** What about her?’ demanded Platt. «Will you see that she is taken care of ?” “ Will I? Ofcourse, Arkansaw ; of course I will. She shall live with my family as long as she wishes to do so. Poor Mike! That was tough, wasn’t it—the way the redskins butchered that family?” ‘**It was,” replied the scout, turning away Mrs. Platt, who had just then came from the bedside of Mary Mc- Grath, who had told her the story of that dreadful night and all that followed. “ Arkansaw, wasn’t if strange that an In- dian should voluntarily let the girl escape unharmed?” she asked, her mind filled with the girl’s story. “For an Indian would have been very ueer,” was the reply. e The emphasis he. bestowed on the word In- dian was noticed ie Mrs, Plavt. She glanced quickly at him. ws $s What do you mean? Was it—— She paused, agitated, her eyes assuming an appealing expression. Seige Ut * Her captor was your son,” said Arkan- Saw, grave i . ‘© And he let her go. Thank God for even that much, that he did not raise his hand against a woman, Arkansaw—do you know —can you tell me—” she spoke with difficulty —‘‘has he imbued his hands in the blood of his own race?” ** He has not.” “ And he was alive and well when you saw him?’ eagerly. ** He was.” The scout and Gabe passed the night at the fort, but were up and away bright and early the next morning. At first Arkansaw was going to leave with- out saying a word to any one, but he changed his mind and went to the house of the Platts. Mrs. Platt was already stirring, al- though it was hardly morethan daylight. Arkansaw glanced around, but his eyes did not find what they searched for—Floy Ray- nor. For some reason—perhaps because Flo had tried to keep out of his way—he h only once caught a glimpse of her the even- ing before, and had not exchanged a word with her. “Tell Floy ‘ good-bye’ for me,” said Arkan- saw, and then he added, in an embarrassed manner—“ and all the others, too. Come, pard,” and thenhe and Gabe passed through the gate of the stockade, and soon were swal- lowed up in the forest depths. His purpose in now leaving the fort was to learn what had become of the Indians. They reached the Hole-in-the-rock in due season, and there took up and followed the trail of the retreating Indians, tracking them to the very outskirts of their village. In fact, they approached it so closely as to be able to distinguish and recognize faces and at sight uf Hard-Heart, moodily and sulkily striding through the village, the scout enjoyed a hearty laugh: For nearly a week they hung about the outskirts of the village, pean eee, crawlin close to the outermost huts during the ack hours of the night, to see if they could hear anything that passed inside. Arkansaw was finally rewarded for his labor by overhearing a conversation which set all his doubts at rest. z At once he and Gabe started over the back track to thefort. — . ‘You are safe enough now,” he told John Platt. “They have returned to their village, and will not stir from it to go on the war- path until next spring. Of that I am very | I sure, but when spring opens be on your guard, for Hard-Heart isa vengeful devil, and} h never forgets or forgives.” 2 j “ Arkansaw, don’t you think we could get together a band of men, march to their vil- e scout smiled grimly. ; ae “If yer want ter leave yer wife a widder and yer children orphans, it’s a good plan.” Then more soberly: “No, old man, the dis- tance is too great, beside being very rough. Their scouts would learn of our approach, tees * . a Indians outside dancing and yelling like ithe room below becoming hushed in death, shall surely die.” ** Well—well, let it drop. Come to the house now. You'llstay with us until spring?” “Not by any means. Gabe and me are oing off hunting and trapping together, © ow are you, little one?” this last to Floy, whom they had unexpectedly encountered, Say who stood before them blushing a rose re “How do you do, Arkansaw?” and she timidly put out her hand. When he and Gabe bade good-bye to the fort again, not tosee it for a couple of months’ at ats least, Floy did not again evade the scout. “Good-bye,” she said, in a trembling voice, and then, nervously—* I wish you were going to stay. You may be killed.” ** And would little Floy care much ?” ; ** A little,” she finally admitted, and when he took her up in his long arms and gave her a bearish hug and a kiss, she did not'say him nay. . “Are yer hard hit, pard?” slyly inquired Gabe, when the fort was left behind. i “Don't poke no fun, Gabe. I don’t under- © stand it like, but there’s something about that little gal, Floy, which pulls and tugs kinder painful here,” putting his hand above his heart. ‘If I wasn’t such a rough fellow, and such an old one, I don’t know but what” He paused ; and he never finished the com- munication in Gabe’s presence, At the fort every ning went along smooth- ily during the winter. There were noalarms, | no eeuble: until one night early in the — spring. Then, about an hour after dark, Arkansaw and Gabe Wickett suddefly appeared upon the scene with an Indian prisoner. ** Close the gate. Be lively now ; you’ve got no time to spare. Provision the block-house, and get into it, for in an hour the Indians’ will be down on you.” How they flew about! What a world of — confusion there was! 3 aah Meanwhile Arkansaw had taken his pris- — oner into the ground-floor room of the block- _ house. Here he tried to induce him to talk, butin vain. The scout had caught him spy- 4 ing just outside of the stockade. 33 ** Don’t talk, then,” finally said the scout, — and flung him, bound hand and foot, in one corner. Wearily time went by, untilatlastthe mid- night hour was reached, and then the long expected and dreaded whoop was heard as — the Indians rushed at the stockade gate with a heavy battering-ram. is, The gate had been carelessly secured, and gave way at the first blow. ‘ “Back to the block-house!” cried the scout, — in a tone of chagrin. ‘*Somebody’s careless- ness will cost us all our lives.” { Back to the block-house fie fought their — mar and entering, secured the heavy log oor. Nt aston, Bae The Indians wasted no timein useless at- tempts to break it down, but resorted to — their most terrible and important and effect- ive ally—fire. ; A well hadbeen sunk inside of the block- house, the stone walls of which were raised flush with the second floor. , aa “Haul up water!” said Arkansaw, in a hoarse tone. “It's a hopeless case, but we must not give up until the end cannot be lon delayed.” a **Vire!” cried some one. : ; Arkansaw’s cheek paled. But he remained cool and steady-nerved, and tried to drown the conflagration by pouring water down through the loop-holes. ; oe But it was offno use, PoE Se toe eR Steadily and surely the flames began to wrap themselves about the building, prowing stronger and fiercer with every breath of air that was stirring : eh ts “We are doomed!” said John Platt, hoarse. 7A howl of anguish rang through the block. E ouse. ; Se ~ The flames had reached the Indian prison. _ er in the room below, bound hand and foot, — unable to do aught to save himself. so Notone among those in the block-house but shuddered at the sound, for it made them picture the fate which awaited themselves. Higher and higher the flames mounted, the’ fiends, the}cries of the unfortunate wretch in
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Higher and higher still the flames mounted, oy the whole block-house was a sheet of re, The Indians waited for the pale-faces to come forth, but they waited in vain, waited until all that was left of the block-house was a pile of glowing embers, and then one oftheir number said: ““Wagh! The pale-faces are great braves, squaws and all. Sooner than become cap- tives, they have all died together in the fire!” | It impressed the Indians with awe, to have “witnessed the death of so many persons, not one ot whom had uttered a shriek or a moan which they could hear, and with this feeling of agve upon them, they silently went away. An hour later, one of their number was to seen returning. It was Lightning. He kicked aside some smoking fragments, and exposed a human skull with a few charred Shreds of fiesh adhering. “‘ Where Is she who said she was my moth- er?” he muttered. “Is she burned like a dog?” CHAPTER XII. THE WELL. THERE was a sad and moody look on the face of Lightning, as hekicked the human skull from among the smoldering embers of the ruins of the block-house. Until very recently he had thoroughly be- lieved himself to be an Indian, his whiteskin being a mark of the great Manitou’s displeas- ure for some actions of his parents. And he had wn up to man’s estate, feeling that it devolved on him to be braver and more of an Indian than the Indians themselves, to wipe out the disgrace—to once more or for his family the favor of the displeased Manitou. This belief of his had received a rude shock, when Mrs. Platt’ declared that she was his mother. He had indignantly denied that he waya pale-face, but her tones echoed familiar- ly in his ears~faintly, to be sure, yet famil- - jiarly, as if they had belonged to long—long ‘0. oe rhen Hard-Heart’s words to him had been very sarcastic since the last warpath, on which he had failed to take any scalps. The chief had taunted him ‘about his white skin —had said that Lightning possessed the cow- ardly heart of a pale-face oF and at lastan old Indian squaw had told him point blank that he was a pale-face in reality. Fealty to color is considered a great virtue among Indians, and Lightning wondered if he had any business to raise his hand against his kindred, if kindred the inhabitants of Fort Platt were. His Indian education, his love for Sunlight, decided him on remaining where he was, and when, in the spring, the _ Indians again went on the warpath, with Fort Platt as. their first point of attack, he had gone with them. Tavght to feel an unlimited scorn for the - pale-faces—taught that they were cowardly » curs, he had been deeply impressed when he _ saw the block-house burned down, and felt that all itsinmates must have rished, and yet had not even uttered a single cry. “Even the pale-face squaws are great braves!” he muttered. “It would be no dis- to have such asquaw for a mother as _ she who claimed me fot a son. She had the _ heart of a lion!” _ Lightning had parted with the retreating body of Indians, and returned to the ruins of the block-house, half hoping that by some _ chance he would find the “great squaw” liy- ing. an "Bat all was silent as the grave. Nota liv- ing being but himself was anywhere visible. “It is well,” he nted, as he glanced down at his belt. ‘“‘ They cannot reproach me _ -with not taking scalps, for none of them have y And I should not have wanted to ~ take scalps of any of those who were here ‘and are now in the land of spirits with the “q Manitou of the pale-faces.” * Slowly retracing his steps, he paused at the _ edge of the woods and allowed a eae pay » gaze to rest for a minute or two on the still _ smoldering ruins, and then he disappeared. » An hour—two—three—passed, and still that ~ solemn hush hung over the scene. Then a timber that hung partially across the opening of the well, which had arisen ~ Jevel with the second story tloor, it will be re- *membered, suddenly lost its equilibrium and - fell with a crash. » Then there was silence again for a little , while, and then a human head was slowly _ tyaised above the top of the well walls. tHE ARKANSAS SCOUT. It was the head of Arkansaw. Swiftly and keenly his eyes flashed over the scene beyond, hither and thither, being par- SEES directed toward the woods. “ Well, what do you make of it?” asked a hoarse voice. : : *« They have all gone,” replied Arkansaw. “*Tt's as Lexpected. They struck the blow, and, as is customary, are now getting away from the spot as rapidly as possible.” He now raised his shoulders above the well curb, then his body, and finally entirely emerged. A heayy timber, whose greenness had pre- vented its being burned to ashes, laid in an advantageous position for the purEge for which Arkansaw wanted it, and he soon had een on the ground, the other being on the well. Then one by one the inmates of the block- house emerged and crossed the timber bridge to the ground. Not one of their lives was missing—the well had saved the lives of all in the fort. When the block-house wasall on fire ; when they were already beginning to feel its scorch- ing breath on their cheeks, an inspiration had come to Arkansaw. “The well!” he had suddenly cried. “ Fling the furniture Into it.” Promptly they obeyed him, and then, one by one, they descended into the interior. Ar- kansaw was the last to enter, bringing with him some boards and loose lumber, which he placed above their heads as a protection from the burning brands, which soon must begin to fall, and to prevent them from setting fire to the boards that screened them, they were deluged with water. The quarters in the wéll had been rather crowded, cramped and uncomfortable. But what was a little discomfort when life wasat stake? When every man, woman and child of them had emerged from the well and stood safely on the ground, John Platt strode to where Arkansaw was standing, and silently extend- edhishand. »* That was all the thanks Arkansaw re- ceived, and it was all he wanted, The pres- sure of John Platt’s honest hand spoke volumes. They now began tolook about them, and to their surprise found that Hard-Heart had left the stockade and the huts of the different families standing, a fact which struck them as being very singular. “Tt isn’t singular, though,” said Arkansaw, when some one asked him if he could explain it. ‘“* This Hard-Heart possesses the cunning of a fox, combined with the devilish cruelty and blood-thirstiness of the wolf. I can see his ee jose without cudgeling my brains much. hat could be more inviting toa a of frontiersmen than these cleared elds and houses, Sanit their hands? He thinks us all dead. ell, some one comes along and settles here, and then he swoops down again.” Arkansaw’s solution of the matter was a} perfectly correct one. “The pale-faces, toward the Dt sun, are thick as the leaves of the trees in yonder forest. We cannot go among them, can’t fight them in their strongholds—we must draw them here within our reach. These huts will be a trap for them. The red man’s only chance is to he cunning and watchful, to lead the pale-faces into ambushes and cor- ners, where they must perish like dogs. as they perished by fire in yonder strong-house,” inting bayer the block-house, then tum- ling in ruins. And the braves, with exclamations of satis- faction and admiration for Hard-Heart’s shrewdness and far-sightedness, allowed the huts to stand. At once they commenced to gather all the horses and stock belonging to the pale-faces, and when this was peor they drove them away into the fores : Four of the oldest braves, whose services were least valuable on the warpath, were se- lected to drive thé stock through the forest to the Indian May He while the remainder, under Hard-Heart’s lead, went into camp for the day, intending that afternoon to make a foreed march and reach another pale-face set- tlement after nightfall. Arkansaw’s first care was the broken gate of the stockade. 5 He told John Platt how it might most apecally be repaired, and then he started for e woods, considering it an absol 2 nied SFT ute neces-| sity to know what movements the Indians had made after leaving the fort’s vicinity. In an hour he returned. “Gabe,” he called, and then took his side- partner beyond the hearing of the others. ‘You have nothing to fear here. The In- dians have struck across country toward Jake Dinkel’s clearing, excepting four of ’em, who have started for the Indian village with the stock. These last will probably take things leisurely, and you will have no trou- ble in coming up with ’em. Take three or four of the boys with you and re-capture the stock—without it our friends here will starve to death.” ** And you?’ “T must warn the whites at Dinker's clearing if I can,” and Arkansaw’s face was very grave. A minute later he er through the gate, the last one to bid adieu to Floy Raynor. ** You will be careful?” she earnestly said. ‘* Certainly,” he said. ‘‘ Good-bye.” Dropping into a trot whenever the und was clear enough to permit it, and at all other times going at the best possible gait, disre- Fouts the fact that he was tired—had not ad a wink of sleep in nearly forty-eight hours—Arkansaw hurried on to try and save the threatened whites, over whose head an awful doom was impending. He reached Dinkel’s clearing only an hour before the attack might be expected, and al- ready, he had no doubt, the Indian spies were watching the clearing, in the center of which half a dozen huts were grouped for better protection, butiwithout a block-housejto retire to, without even a stockade. As quickly as possible the inhabitants were aroused, and deserting their cattle, and all they had in the world, they silently followed the scout into the depths of the woods. He left them in a place of comparative anes and then with his lips firmly compressed, with a stern look on his face, he went back toward the clearing. ‘These attacks must be stopped!” he had determined, a Half an hour latera heavy explosion echoed and re-echoed through the woods. Thescout had struck the Indians a terrible blow! CHAPTER XIV. MAD FOR REVENGE. ARKANSAW met with no interruption in going back to the clearing until he had reached the edge of the forest. He was moving ahead very carefully, for he wished to pare a look across the clearing before he ventured into it ; and then he was startingly surprised when he suddenly pepe on the leg of an Indian. stretched flat on. his stomach, peering into the clearing. A guttural exclamation followed in the Indian tongue. : But for his er ate with the sie Arkansaw would have been placed in a X. As it was, he poanely replied, and so sat- isfactorily that he was allowed to pass on. the Indian supposing him to be another of the scouts who were out reconnoitering the clearing. “That's a warning to be even more care- ful,” muttered Arkansaw. “It’s a pesky risk I'm Rens ine butif I can work my cpian. and include old Hard-Heart among the killed, it will be worth all the risk.” z Like some dark shadow, so silently he moved, he Jeft the cover of the forest, and finally crept up to, and then into the largest of the huts, that of Jake Dinkel, a German ~ who had been the original settler at the spot. - In the hut Arkansaw remained about five minutes, and then emerging, he softly made his way to the rear o stretched himself on the ground bes concealing himself by drawing over him a wide plank which lay near by. This last was a necessary precaution, as a few Indian scouts presently moved silently through the little settlement. Arkansaw had not very long to wait for the moment of the attack. ¢ He heard the Indians gather in front of Dinkel’s hut, and took from his pocket a piece of flint and steel, for striking fire, this being before the days of matches, : S Crack! The redskins had flung themselves against the door of the hut, ty ate Pe Ae Ors Ae 3 By oN nee ty the pending a , e £
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re, % a -- not a groan or a cr, * crawling like snakes a THE ARKANSAS SCOUT. silence, disappointed in hearing no cries of alarm. They then began to utter cries of disappoint- ment as a glimmering of the truth that the hut was deserted began to dawn on their minds, and then they began to rush wildly about the hut, ene and rending things in their wild fury while they hunted for the hut’s absent owners. Arkansaw shuddered. **T hate to do it,” he muttered. ‘It looks too much like murder. However, it’s no more than they would do, and it’s time these awful Indian butcheries were stopped, I'd rather fight "em ina square stand-up style, one by one, but it can’t be done.” With a steady hand he struck the steel and flint together, and a spark of fire was pro- duced. But it failed to perform the work it was in- tended for. A second spark, however, fell on some powder placed in front of a small chink between the logs, Hiss! sputter! fizz! One moment Arkansaw waited to see that the train he had laid was caught. Then he sprang to his feet and dashed across the clear- ed ground, and gained the cover of the woods, ere he paused and waited. His work had been well done, and suddenly there came an explosion. The train of gun- powder had carried the fire to a five pound ean of the same material, planted inside of the hut. The hut’s roof was torn off, a bright col- umn of flame shot high up in the night air, now filled with the terrible howls of the wounded and dying. It was a horrible sight, and Arkansaw shuddered, stout of heart as he was and accustomed to scenes of blood- shed and violent deaths, Nearly all of the Indians must have been in the hut, and of those who had passed its por- tals it was impossible that more than a few could have escaped. A minute later the silence of the grave it- self rested over the clearing. Though many of the Indians must be suffering severely, of anguish was to be ittle while, and Arkan- among the redskins ng the ground, seek- ing the shelter of the forest. hey expected at any minute to be attacked by a body of avenging pale-faces, and were in confusion, and each man of them was looking to his own safety. This lack of concert in their movements impressed Arkansaw with the belief that the master spirit in all their bloody raids—Hard- Heart—had met his death. Lying there in concealment Arkansaw _could hear the Indians mcving about close by on either side of him, but he never moved, for, until daylight broke, he was perfectly safe where he was. , : About an hour before daylight the Indians, having recovered from their fears of an at- tack, entered the clearing in a body, were therenear the huts a few minutes, and then disappeared in the direction whence they had come. Arkansaw did not venture from his con- cealment until long after daylight. Then he entered the clearing and went to the hut, which had been shattered by the explosion. He counted fourteen dead Indians. those who had been wounded, but had re- heard. Thus for a saw could see the ue. be) Sr. “mained able to walk with assistance, had been taken away. Those who would have _ died anyhow were a little hurried in their ex- it from this world by the knives of their com- _-rades. i *. eS Se = a Among the bodies Arkansaw looked sharp- ly for two in particular, those of Hard-Heart _ and Lightning. Not finding that of the lat- _ ter, he breathed a deepsigh 3S, i f relief; and not ‘finding the chief among fie slain, his fist clenched with ey for if Hard- _ Heart still lived, half the purpose of the ex- plosion had failed. Hard-Heart had been in the hut at the mo- _ ment of the explosion, but hat d wi ; is it Pp. ad escaped with eens had just entered another hut 3 by when the explosion occurred, and consequently failed to be in any way affected or injured by it. ; _ Suilen-faced, but with flashing eyes, with - hearts madly thirsting for revenge, the sur- rd-Heart’s band retreated in the _ -yivors of Ha _ wake of their Set eneS chief, who suffered _ such anguish from is wounds and burns that _ he was nearly beside himself. All} 1 In a densely thicketed rayine, through which a stream of water ran, they came to a sudden halt. “Revenge must be our watchword!” he hoarsely said, as the Indians gathered about him. ‘Let half a dozen of our young men volunteer to go near the enemy and find out how we may strike back, may return with interest the terrible blow which they have let fall on us.” : F Among those who signified their readiness to act as scouts was Lightning. — “T am glad to see Lightning is ready to face danger,” said Hard-Heart, fastening his remaining eye on the young fellow. ‘“‘I had begun to believe that he was faint-hearted. Let him but bring back a scalp as an evi- dence that he has been near the pale-face dogs, and I will cause his praises to be sung in every wigwam in our village.” Like snakes the scouts glided away into the woods, just as daylight began to break in the eastern sky. ' CHAPTER XV. ARKANSAW A CAPTIVE, ARKANSAW having concluded his search among the dead bodies, bethought him of the fugitivestin their hiding place, and knew that they in all probability were anxiously await- ing his return. There was nothing more to be done here now, and he left the clearing, passing within a dozen feet of where one of the scouts sent out by Hard-Heart was lying concealed. ; The brave was a young man, but tall, well- formed, lithe and supple, and from his quick- ness of movement had been called the Arrow, The brave was young and ambitious, and his eyes gleamed with ill-concealed delight when he recognized the person of the dreaded Trackless, fie had heard the marvelous stories that were told of the Trackless, that he was more than mortal, and could killed. But he saw the man before him, and he was certainly flesh and blood. : The Arrow was not the possessor of a rifle, but he was an expert in the use of the toma- hawk, and as he Giese arose to his feet he grasped firmly the handle of this dreaded weapon. Fairer target was never presented than was the scout, slowly and steadily walking, his back toward the Indian. The Arrow braced his feet, measured the distance with his eye with an accuracy that was wonderful, then raised the weapon, and with a powerful jerk sent it flying at Arkan- Saw’s head. But forits course being SugBE changed by striking a twig that lay in its line of flight, it must have cleft the scout’s skull. As it was, so near to the mark did it come, that the sharp blade sliced Arkansaw’s right ear off close to his head.” The Arrow, in his exultation, believing “the tomahawk must cleave the scout’s head twain, had not sunk down in his cover again. It was a fatal mistake on his part. Quick as lightning in his comprehension, Arkansaw was facing the Arrow, his rifle at his shoulder, in less time than it takes to count three. The Arrow saw his danger when it was too ate. ue attempted to disconcert Arkansaw’s im. Crack! _His heart pulsed for the last time as the rifle spoke. Arkansaw stooped and picked up_ the lost ear, put it coolly into his pocket and walked away. There was no need of the scout’s returnin tolook at the body of the Indian. He coul have sworn to the fatal result of that shot. So, pocketing the ear, he resumed his way toward where he had left the Dinkel party, loading his rifle as he went. *Hard-Heart hasnot made tracks out of the country as I thought he would,” reflected the scout. ‘‘ He has halted somewhere with- in a dozen miles, and this fellow was a scout sent back. There are probably others of "em lurkin’ about, and it’s my best medicine to look sharp and be careful.” It was well that he did so. : When within a quarter of a mile of the hid- ing-place of the Dinkel party, he was informed by the snapping of a dry twig that some hu- man being was in the vicinity. At once he sought the cover of the trunk of d not be/h in | hended by the other. a tree, and for several minutes stood there as motionless as the tree itself. Then his keen scrutiny was rewarded by the sight of a human head—not that of an In- dian, however, but that of Jake Dinkel. Arkansaw was on the point of calling to him when it struck him that Dinkel was watching something or somebody, which his own position precluded him from seeing, This reflection having occurred to him, the scout silently changed his position, seeking shelter behind a tree diagonally opposite to the one he had just deserted. His new position enabled him to prove the truth of his conjecture. Dinkel was watching somebody, and that somebody an Indian, towards whom he was peu stealing, waiting an opportunity ‘or a safe and sure shot, The Indian was aware that he was in the immediate neighborhood of the hiding-place of the pale-faces, and was moving with ex- treme caution, his attention being so com- pletely. taken up with what was in front of im that he failed to detect the presence of an enemy in his rear, even though with an Indian's usual caution he did not neglect to cast an occasional glance behind him, on each of which occasion Dinkel was fortunately under cover. At last Arkansawymanaged to obtain a good view of the Indian’s face, and he start- ed, when in him he recognized Lightning, the son of Mrs, Platt. “ And Lightning it was. Instead of going back to the clearing as Arrow had done, he had started toencircle it at some distance, Hoping to find the trail left by the retreat- ing inhabitants of the empty huts. In this he had been successful, and was now draw- ing near to their cover; in fact, he was at last within a hundred feet of the very spot. Herz Lightning laid himself down between the trunks of two trees, lying parallel and only two feet apart, and then, elevating his ead above that nearest the camp, he listen- ed intently. Jake Dinkel saw his opportunity. Swiftly, but silently approaching, he had laced the muzzle within half a dozen feet of ightning’s head, and was in the act. of pull- ing the trigger, when a hand was laid on his arm and arrested him. At that moment Lightning suddenly turn- ed and faced them, and seeing his danger, he made a movement toward his tomahawk, ‘Do not move hand or foot, or you area dead man!” Arkansaw sternly said, in the Indian tongue. : a “The Trackless !” Lightning grunted these words, and then remained silent and motionless, aware that his life was Rife in this man’s hands, and calmly and sullenly awaiting his disposition of it. ‘The Trackless has only pity for the Light-- ning,” said Arkansaw, gravely, still speaking. the Indian tongue, which was better compre- “The Trackless’ hand | is never at fault when a redskin comes to fight with him, or to match skill with him, But the Trackless cannot killa pale-face, and Lightning is a pale-face, the son of a pale-face father and mother. Will the Lightning give me his word not to raise his hand against these pale-faces?” “Ts it the price of my life?” demanded Lightning, sullenly. “*No,” was the astute reply. “Tt is a pledge one brave man asks of another.” ‘And you will take my word?’ with a gleam of pleasure in his eyes. i : ““A truly brave man never speaks with a crooked tongue,” was the reply. Arkansaw’s sparing his life on a former oc- casion, his feats of bravery, and this lack of fear now of the result of allowing him to go free, awoke in Lightning’s untutored mind a deep admiration for the scout. “ Wagh!” he grunted, “I have been taught to believe the pale-faces lying dogs, owns curs. But they are braves, and it is no dis- grace tobe apale-face. But Lightning Indian —all Indian—no pale-face blood—no pale-face heart—though skin pale-face.” _* “And your word “‘Lightning will spare these pale-faces for the sake of the brave Trackless, for the sake of the pale-face squaw whose words were soft but who wrongly thinks Lightning her son. Ihave spoken. c ““Then go,” said Arkansaw, ‘ But Lightning paused. In his eyes an in- quiry gleamed which his Indian stoicism
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made him too proud to frame in words, for he considered inquisitiveness the attribute of a squaw. “My brother would ask a question?” sug- gestively said Arkansaw. ‘‘Let him, speak.” “You in strong house?” in broken English. ae w ” “You no hurt?” “You see me as I am.” “(Why this so? Fireman all Injin.” *““Pale-face wiser brave than redskin. Where Injin get gun? Pale-face. Where Injin get powder? Pale-face. Where—” * Where Injin get rum? Pale-face!” inter- rupted Lightning, as he stalked away. ‘Why didn’t you make a prisoner of him if you didn’t want to kill him?” inquired Jake Dinkel, after Lightning had disappeared. **Because to have made him a prisoner would only make him more bitter. As it is, T have his pledge not to help do us any harm.” You said he was a pale-face!” “‘ Yes, he is the son of John Platt.” “The one stolen by the Indians many years ago?” with deep interest in his tone. “The same,” svas the reply of Arkansaw, and then:they entered the camp. Here everything was found as they had left it, or rather as Arkansaw had left it when he returned to the clearing to blow up the In- dians in the hut. After having broken his fast, and having had the blood washed from his face and neck, Arkansaw drew a little apart from the others and sat down to think. F On very few occasions in his eventful life had he felt so great a responsibility resting on his shoulders as now. The Indians were still strong enough in numbers to be more than a match for Dinkel’s party, unless they occupied some very strong natural position. Presently the scout remembered just such t, and thither he led the fugitives. is next care must be ta rtain exactly how strong the Indians were, and how they were located. It might be possible, he told himself, to turn the tables and become the attacking party. : Including himself, Dinkel’s party numbered six strong, brave, resolute men, all shots. Were the Indians encamped in a place favorable to the enterprise, he might lead an attack on them. At any rate, the fugitives were now en- canthed in a spot where the Indians would hardly dare attack them, and so Arkansaw bade them adieu for a brief while, for the pur- pose of reconnoitering the Indians, and learn- ing exactly what they were up to. ard-Heart’s party had taken a course due south when they left the clearing, and by de- seribing a segment of a circle, of which the clearing was the center, Arkansaw knew he would come across the trail they left behind. This was the simplest part of the expedi- tion he was on, the trail being found without difficulty. But now he was called upon to exercise all, of his skill, and cunning, and knowledge of woodcraft. 5 That scouts were out he knew, and the danger of encountering one of these was the greatest risk he ran. He managed, however, to draw near to the Indian camping spot without having, so far as he could judge, been discovered. d yet discovered he had been, and was being follow- ed by an Indian scont, ibly, as Lightning had been followed by Jake Dinkel, and like Lightning, he failed to become aware of the te : At first, the scree only i, mat he was spying upon a pale-face, and when he recog- peed hing as the Trackless, he trembled Tike one stricken with the Noe The Trackless had been in the burning fort, had never is- aunt it, and yet here he was, alive and we ‘The Indian, naturally superstitious, was more than s _ As they drew nearer the Indian camp, after they had entered the ravine, the redskin’s courage began to revive. Arkansaw’s pecu- _ liar tactics. in approaching the camp were _ something that the Indian could understand, "something tangible, and going to prove that _ the Trackless was human as well 1s himself. ~___ Lying flat on his stomach Arkansaw went like a snake through the thicket for the last hundred feet of his approach, and then by Pe the bushes very slightly he could see the body of Indians, some lounging about, Pot sitting a tS Sa ie others + THE ARKANSAS SCOUT. nursed their wounds, the result of the ex- plosion. No one who has never witnessed the sight can imagine how silently, how stealthily an Indian can approach a person. With breath suspended, or drawn with no noise whatever and only at long intervals, with feet raised carefully for each succeeded step and not allowed to touch the earth until the spot has been inspected, with eyes glow- ing, with every muscle kept tense and ready like coiled springs, to unwind at a breath— that is something of the styleof an Indian’s approaching his unsuspecting victim. he Indian’s tomahawk was raised, pre- pared to strike fhe moment Arkansaw took the alarm; but fate was for once against the scout, and the Indian drew closer and closer, his eyes gleaming more brightly as he began to dream of capturing the Trackless alive in- stead of killing him. Nearer—nearer—and then the - Indian crouched. The steel-like muscles suddenly relaxed, the Indian bounded forward and up- ward, and came heavily down on Arkansaw’s back, pede the wind from his body and placing him hors du combat. Arkansaw tried to turn to make a strug- gle, but the Indian had him at too great a dis- advantage, facing the earth flat on his stom- ach, and the shrill yell of the Indian had already brought him assistance. The jig was up. Arkansaw—or the dreaded Trackless, as the Indians called him—was at last a prisoner. CHAPTER XVI. IN CAPTIVITY. At last Arkansaw was a prisoner—was in the power of the Indians, who had so much reason to fear and hate him. Lying flat on his stomach, he had been unable td strike a blow in self-defense when the Indian sprang upon his back. In less than a minute he was dragged to his feet and disarmed, and was then marched from the Lushes toward the camp-fire, where Hard-Heart stood calmly waiting for the pris- oner to be brought to him. When but a few feet separated Hard-Heart and the captive Trackless, the Indians re- leased their hold of the latter, but,stood around him in a circle, their weapons in their hands to cut him down in ’case he made any attempt to escape. ' Hard-Heart knew that the prisoner was a white man, but it was not until he looked up @ minute after this—during which interval there had been profound silence—that he knew that it was the Trackless who had been captured. From infancy an Indianis taught to con- ceal his feelings and emotions, so that when grown up, they usually have the most per- fect control over their minds and_bodies. In spite of his long schooling, Hard-Heart could not repress a start of surprise when He recognized the Trackless, and then a gleam of savage pleasure glowed in his remaining eye. Then he controlled himself and scrutinized Arkansaw from head to foot in a most leis- urely manner. ““My brother has Jost an ear,” he then said, having observed Arkansaw’s loss of one of those members, ** He has.” “« Some one of my braves doubtless bears it as a trophy,” said the wily chief. “he Indian dog hung his tomahawk from behind a tree. He bore the totem of an ar- row, and the wolves will pick his bones, for heis gone to the happy hunting grounds,” {Totem—some distinguishing mark. In- dians equantty had their private totem, al- though whole tribes sometimes bore the same mark. It is said that one of the famous Six Nations bore the totem of a turtle, pricked in indelible ink, as sailors have pictures or names pricked on their arms, Hard-Heart knew, from Arkansaw’s de- scription, that it was one of his scouts—a young brave, and one of the best—and his eyes lighted with anger, * Bind the Trackless !” he ordered, and then strode away. ; Arkansaw was firmly bound hand and foot, ane for greater safety, was then secured to a tree, : Then two Indians mounted guard over him while the others were called aside by Hard- Heart, and all went into council. $3, > From the spot where he was fastened, Ar- kansaw could see all that transpired in the council, and he knew that its purpose was the deciding of what was to be done with him. And yet one would hardly have thought, to judge from the scout’s calm face, that he was conscious that the group of Indians were then discussing how he should be put to death. There was no question as to whether he should live ordie. That was settled without a word being said. The only question was how he should die, and when. Arkansaw’'s greatest regret at that moment was that he had been captured without his being able to strike a single blow. Still, he was more than consoled when he thought how he had blown them up in the hut, and thought of Hard-Heart’s disfigured face and loss of an eye. While the council was in progress, a young Indian stalked into the camp, passing near where Arkansaw was held captive. It was Lightning. As his eyes lighted on Arkapsaw, his face was covered with an expression of conster- ‘nation and surprise, and he halted short. His eyes and those of the scout chanced to meet, and the latter bent a peculiar look on the Indian.. ~ ; Then Lightning stalked on and joined the council. A few minutes later, the other scouts re- turned, and also joined in the pow-wow over the fate of their prisoner. Theré were no wild shouts, no extravagant manifestations of joy over the capture of Trackless; but it was easy to see that there was a general intense, deep satisfaction that he was in their power. - * After all the scouts had returned, the discus- sion of the Trackless was deferred to receive their reports. All but Lightning were in favor of attack- ing the party of whites. Their position was a strong one, but they were few in number, and taken by surprise, could be easily over- come. Lightning differed from this view. Though few in number, hegsaid the party was well.armed; evyén the women had: fire- arms, and knew how to use them. It was his advice that Dinkel’s party be let alone, and that they should swoop across country and down on some one unprepared for their coming. Se Hag Lightning brought back ascalp as evidence that he was near this party?” asked™ _ Hard-Heart, in a sarcastic tone. : - ‘He has not,” wasthereply, and Lightning sat down amid the sneers and jeeringlooks of the braves, all of whom knew that he was Le ey a pale-face, and secretly disliked im. The reports of the other scouts were ac- — cepted as of more worth than Lightning's, © and it was decided to attack the Dinkel party during the night, Then Trackless became again the subject of discussion. : ane that he had been rebuked, Light- ning made no attempt to speak or express _ any views as to whatshould bedone with the drezded and famous man. FI It was finally decided that he should nob be killed until after their return to their vil- ] ie would attack the concealed whites that night and in the morning would start to return to their village. ee Arkansaw was shrewd enough to guess ab the conclusion of thecouncil from themanner in which it broke a An occasional brave sauntered near him to gaze at himin curious wonder, or to give him a kick, but otherwise no attention was paid to him, save by an oc- — casional glance in his direction. Pres Once, from a distance, he caught Light-_ ning’s gaze fastened on him, and Arkansaw felt sure there was encouragement inthe In-— s dian’s eyes! ¢ = For years Lightning had been an especial pet of Hard-Heart, who had found pleasure | ~ in so tutoring a pale-face as to make him |~ hate his kindred with all the becowinre! of an — Indian. Force of circumstances — y te disap- pointed Hard-Heart’s expectations of the ~ white blood which Lightning would shed, The disappointed chief had now with-— angered him
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he passed ; but, though his eyes flashed, he could not invite the speaker to combat, for he could not prove that he was meant, al- though he was morally sure of it. A most singular struggle was taking place in the mind of Lightning. Was he a pale- face? Arkansaw had said so, had twice spared his life on that account, when, had he been a redskin, he khew that he would have — eS F e proof now seemed stronger than ever, Besides, he had been deeply injured in feel- ing, grossly insulted, and was rendered sul- n en. At that moment, except for the Sunlight in the Indian village, he would have deserted the tribe. A lesson which had been strongly impressed on his mind was to be true to fis kindred and kind. This lesson was now reactin manner which Hard-Heart hai ed possible. When the hour came for the attack on the whites, Lightning joined the attacking rty, his jaws firmly set, an unalterable reso- ution giving a strangely set look to his face. The scouts who had discovered the hiding- lace of Dinkel’s party led the way. The In- ians had approached undiscovered and were very near the place, in another minute would have dashed out upon the pale-faces, when suddenly a rifle report rang out, startling both the whites and the Indians. The shot was intended as a warning, and had been fired by Lightning. “Traitor!” hissed a voice in Lightning's ear, -and a tomahawk was swiftly raised to strike him down. Lightning had been suspected, and Hard-Heart had deputed a brave to be ever near him. Lightning dodged the descending toma- hawk, and closed in on his antagonist just as the main body of the Indians, urged on by Hard-Heart, with a yell broke cover and bounded upon the pale-faces, eer) read to meet them, and who poured a deadly vol- Jey into the band of red devils. Meanwhile, Lightning and his antagonist were battling fiercely. Fortune favored the former. The Indian 4p pierced to the heart by Lightning’s rnife. One minute the young man gloomily paused, heard the maddening yells of the repulsed Indians, heard their crashing through the bushes, and then strode away atarapid pace. on itself ina never deem- —- 3 { CHAPTER XVII. A RUTHLESS FATHER, HAp it not been for the timely warnin which Dinkel received by the discharge o Lightning’s gun, he and his party would most assuredly have been wiped out of existence by the Indians. Fr Dinkel and his companions were brave men —among the bravest of the brave, but the were not conversant with all the wiles an ways of the redmen. Had Arkansaw been there, and doing picket duty, he would have Known of the approach of the Indians, but sounds that to his ear would have been full of meaning, fell on their ears without any significance. _ . But, once warned by the rifle shot, Dinkel had aiven afew rapid and brief orders, and shoulder to shoulder, the whites waited un- til the Indians showed themselves, and had poured into them a deadly and telling volley. The Indians did not pause at first, not he how great a loss they had sustain- Solid and immovable as so many statues carved in stone, the pale-faces stood, until the Indians closed in on them. _. Then the few pistols among them began to crack. and their knives began toswiftly flash iu __. Dinkel clubbed his gun, and flung himself _ right into the midst of the Indians, and heroic + was the work done by him. _. From the instant when Lightning's gun _ spoke, to that when the last Indian dove into the cover of the bushes, was not more than three minutes. But, short as had been he fight, it had been most bloody. dead, and one of the whites would never speak again, would never till the soil for the szupport of his family, would never again dan- dle his little child on his knee. ‘Foaming with rage, Hard-Heart drew off his braves, and counted them to see what ey had sustaine _ losses a Of the Indians, no less than seven were |- Nine were miss- THE ARKANSAS SCOUT. ~ ing, including Lightning and the brave who had been deputed to remain beside him. The chief was for making another attack on the whites, but the braves shook their heads. So disastrous had been the expedition, that they were discouraged and disheartened. Hard-Héatt was overruled, and, giving in with a very bad grace, he led the way back to the camp. Accidentally he stumbled across the Indian killed by Lightning. Hard-Heart bent down and felt of the Indian’s hand, and from the fact that a finger was missing, knew who it was. 5 His brows contracted, his face darkened. This brave had not been killed by the whites —he had been slain ne Lightning, who, as was now clear to Hard-Heart, had fired that shot. Lightning’s mind was in a tumult after killing his antagonist. r He had saved the whites at the expense of the Indians, whom he had been taught to re- gard as brothers. ; That Hard-Heart would learn that he was the cause of the defeat Lightning knew, and knew further that now the handicf every brave in Hard-Heart’s band would be raised against him. He was now what every true Indian detests—a tribeless brave—and he was sad at heart, for, as yet, he was too much of an In- dian at heart to dream of going to liveamong the pale-faces. His step was very slow, his face very grave, as he, unconsciously to himself, went in the direction of the camp, where the Trackless remained under the guard of two Indians. Finally a thought of the Trackless flashed across his mind. He owed him a deep debt of gratitude, and, Indian-like, must repay it if he could. He hastened his steps, but reached the ede when Arkansaw was too late to rescue him, for the returning party was already hard at hand. Taking their prisoner with them, pausing Boe to rest, they at once started for the Indian village. Arkansaw knew where they had gone, and from the manner of their return knew that they had been repulsed, and his eyes opened with astonishment and pleasure when, on counting them, he found that nine of their number were missing. When daylight came, he for the first time learned‘ that one of the nine was Lightning. * Poor fellow!” he muttered, in a sad tone. “Wor his mother’s sake I am sorry for his death. And killed by a white man’s bullet, at that!” Arkansaw did not then, though he after- wards reflected, that Lightning’s death made his own an absolute certainty. In view. of the losses the Indians had sus- tained in this last encounter, Arkansaw knew that he would probably be put to the torture the minute the village was reached. To say that he relished his position would be untrue. In fact, he thought of Floy Raynor, who had latterly shown sO much interest in him, and his heart was saddened. Still he bore himself like a brave man, and one not afraid of death, Half way tothe village Hard-Heart brought the party fo a halt. He had expected ere this to have come Pp with the braves sent on ahead with the stol- en stock from Fort Platt, or at least to have crossed their trail, but as yeb neither had been done. 5 After a brief consultation with several of the most trusted braves, three Indians were sent back in the direction of Fort Platt to join the quartette with the stock, and hurry them on toward the pA This being settled, Hard-Heart pushed on again, keeping up the rapid pace which they had adopted at the commencement of the re- treat. ; Lightning, in the meantime, his brain filled with a new Ena had pressed on ahead of them, and a dozen hours before the party could expect to reach the village, Lightning was concealed in’ the bushes near the spring where Sunlight fequsutly. came, He had longer wait on this occasion than he expected, Sunlight did not visit the spring until later in the afternoon, and Aeetm dared not enter the village. Had he done so he would instantly have been surrounded by a crowd of eager questioners, who would have thought his presence a strange event, and would probably have made him a captive until the chief's return, atk a Rae ak 15 A rustling in the bushes caused the beau- tiful Indian park to quickly face that direc- tion, and a glad little ery escaped her when she recognized Lightning. It was only a few seconds, however, be- fore she sppeoactee him more _ soberly, as is supposed to be becoming in the approach of an Indian woman to her lord and master. “Why is Lightning here alone?’ Where are the others?” she asked, after he had caught her in his arms. “hey are coming,” he answered, evasive- ly. “Let the Sunlight come with me where we will not be seen by prying eyes.” She gravely followed him into a dense growth of bushes, and then stood before him with downcast eyes, waiting for him to k. Me Will the Snnlight leave her father’s wig- wam for that of Lightning?” “Ts Lightning’s wigwam ready ?” He bit his lip at this reply. ‘Sunlight loves the Lightning?” he asked. ‘Does the Manitou love his children?” she answered. ‘As he loves, so I love.” . “And will you leave your tribe and fly with me?” - She looked up, distressed and surprised. “What has happened? Why speaks the Lightning in this strange way—as the sun- light’s darkened when clouds are in the sky? **T can no longer stay among your people. Will you leave them to go with me?” “You are disgraced?” recoiling from him in a species of horror. “You have been proved of the white heart?” (of being a cow- ard. : ees drew himself proudly up. “Tn all the tribe there is none braver than Lightning. Does not your heart tell you so? No, I am not of the white heart. In the hour of battle I met the foe like a brave, and the foe lies dead. But he is of your people.” “Then you will be an outcast—you will be tribeless,” sadly; for, as) we have said, to be tribeless is to be an object of scorn among all good Indians. “*T will,” he slowly returned, and then with folded arms waited for her answer. The Sunlight looked up into her lover's face. That he loved her goony. she was aware, and she loved him with more than the ordinary devotion of an Indian girl’s love. The inbreeding of many generations had not been eradicated from the nature of this white Indian, and he had always shown in his manner the considerarion for women shown by his race, ins of the marked contempt in which Indians hold females, This consideration had been the means of iving depth and breadth to the love of Sun- ight, until now it was strong enough to cause her to overlook the traditions of her people, and placing her hand in that of Light- ning, she calmly said: “Already the Lightning is master of my love, he shall also be master of my life.” ‘Phen come,” he said, and led her away, holding her by the hand, Fate—cruel fate—was against the young ] overs. With hearts SHURE with love, engrossed in themselves, they did not know of his nearness until they encountered Hard-Heart — ‘stalking toward the village, some little dis- tance in advance of the rest of the party. His eyes flashed with deadly anger as they lighted on the lovers. % ‘Where goes Sunlight with the Light- ning?” he gruffly demanded. “To his isdger? SLES the trembling In- dian girl, clinging to her lover. } “And where is his lodge?” i “When we a ac fd pises ects he will cast it, and Sunli, will then enter. Hard-Heart’s hand clutched the handle of his tomahawk. In anotherinstant the weapon was drawn, and then was sent flying toward the head of his daughter. s Lightning tried to-save her, but too late! The sharp blade cleft her skull, and she fell to the earth dead, the blood gushing forth in a crimson stream, ‘ “Die, traitor to your race!” hissed Hard- ¢: as he saw her fall. ‘‘ You areno longer child of mine—you, who have brought dis- ce to the door of achief’s wigwam y run- ning away like a sneaking fox with a dog of 5 a pale-face.” a Pinte f we ey tunned for one minute by the sight of the — death of the Indian maid, whom he had so ~ dearly loved, Lightning stood transfixed. — Then he made a movement toward drawing rey
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THE ARKANSAS SCOUT. CHAPTER XIX. or ‘SCOURGED. WHEN the Indians entered the hutin which Arkansaw was confined, he instinctively knew the purpose for which they had come, knew that the hour of great trial had come. In an Indian’s eyes the greatest proof of courage is indicated by the ability to bear pain without murmuring. Of the greater courage—that which is called moral courage —they had no knowledge whatever. i As we have said of Arkansaw before, he was so thoroughly a frontiersman, that he was perfectly acquainted with the character and thoughts, and feelings of the Indians. He knew that to exhibit cowardice would only be to draw down on him their greater contempt and a greater number of the petty indignities which are sometimes harder to bear than greater ones. So, when he was marched out, his head was carried high, and ne eyes were made to express anything but ear. Hard-Heart, for his own part, had not wished that the Trackless should yet be put to torture. He hated the man with such a depth that he wished to keep him prisoner, while he bent his mind to the devising of some more cruel and painful torture than had ever yet been practiced on human beings. This fact will account to some extent for what followed. ‘ While not daring to go flat-footed counter to the tribe, he, nevertheless, succeeded in di- recting matters in such a manner that Ar- kansaw was not sent to kingdom-come. ag ““Wagh!” grunted Hard-Heart, when Ar= ~~ oe was brought before him. “It is well.” For fully two minutes the scout and the Indian chief stood there facing each other and eying each other keenly. 1 Hard-Heart’s single eye was blazing with a smothered passion. Arkansaw scanned the 4 Indian’s face, and a grim smile stole over his own, as he recognized the work of the explo- sion at the Dinkel hut. His smile did not tend to soothe the angry passions of Hard-Heart, and for one second it seemed as if the chief would end the whole matter by drawing his tomahawk and brain- i ing the captive. But he remembered himself suddenly, and at once put his angry passions under control. ‘Let the squaws who have lost their hun- ee are near,” Hi eho mee “a ee one being killed so near to the village that the | Cf Siem come with scourges in their hands. report of the shot was heard. eae let the pappooses an children come with A dozen braves went to the,spot and there found the dead body. At once they scoured the woods in search of the slayer, whom they ge ed to be Lightning, but so artfully did he*tover his —— that ‘they could discover no trace of im. They waited an hour, two of them, three of them, and then they began slowly to be convinced that none of the number would ever return. . Hard-Heart was sullen-faced and angry. The others strode moodily abont, their eyes burning, muttering to themselves in guttural tones as they glanced toward the hut in which the Trackless was confined. There were no loud-voiced lamentations, no angry shouts, no visible excitement; but under that brooding silence there flowed a seething and hot tide of passion, which soon would burstits bounds. - Even the women, usually on such an occa- sion as great chatterers as magpies, were silent. Those squaws who lose husbands are gen- erally granted the right of raising an infernal din, and generally exercise that right. But now they, too, were silent, and spoke to each other apart, in low tones, with brows con- tracted and fingers convulsively working. Heaven help Arkansaw! Hard-Heart understood what was passing in the minds of all about him, and when at last he was sure that the scouts were all dead, or else would have returned before this, he glanced up toward the sky,and toward the - sun which soon would set, then said : Gabe had no need to fire. Able to take such cool and careful aim, each shot had done its work, and the four Indians were dead. “Now, we'll go into camp.” said Gabe, *‘and eat the supper they were cooking.” In the morning they started back for the fort, arriving there im safety. The scouts sent back by Hard-Heart in uest of those in charge of the stolen stock finally stumbled across the ashes and charr fragments of wood where the camp-fire had been built, and soon after found the dead bod- ies of the four Indians, or at least what was left of the bodies, for astray wolf or two had already visited the spot. They followed the return trail long enough to satisfy themselves that it led in the direc- tion of Fort Platt, and that those who drove back the stock were white men. Puzzled, but more angered even than puz- zled, théy turned in the direction of their vil- lage, their eyes flashing when they thought of the Trackless who must suffer fearfully in payment of all their losses and disappoint- ments. his tomahawk, and avenging her death by killing Hard-Heart. The chief had already raised his rifle. Crack! Lightning dropped, the bullet whistled over his head. Then he sprang up, was about to dash in on Hard-Heart, paused as the other Indians rushed up, then sprang away. “T go now, but I will return to avenge her death!” he shouted, and then disappeared with a defiant cry flung at his pursuers. CHAPTER XVIII. PREPARED FOR THE TORTURE. GABE WICKETT, it will be remembered, had been instructed by the scout to take some men and go in pursuit of the party, having in charge the stolen stock from Fort Platt. In pursuance of these instructions he and four companions had started in pursuit of this body of the Indians, No attempt was made to cover the trail ; in fact, any attempt would have been useless where the stock was concerned. Having such a broad and easily followed a‘ ; trail, Gabe and his companions had no diffi-| Arkansaw was indeedin a bad box. culty in following it, and were not caused} It was not that he would merely be put to the loss of any time by any blinding of the| death. That was not half so dreadful to think i ofas the tortures he would first be made to endure. Hour after hour something seemed to occur to inflame the passions of the Indians still more. First, there was the explosion. Then the repulse by the ambushed whites. Then the discovery of Sunlight, disgracing her father, according to Indian etiquette, by going away with a tribeless brave. Then her death—a ust one in Indian estimation, attributed toa ated pale-face, forsuch they knew et as to be. Then his threat of revenge, and his es- cape, for his pursuers had returned with the news that he could not be captured. — ; And now. these scouts were returning with the news that four more braves were slain, and the stock was taken from them... But they never reached the village with the news, A sworn avenger was on their track, and that avenger was Lightning. He now hated all Indians, and Hard-Hearc’s band in par- ticular, as he had once hated the pale- faces. The blood of hisslain Sunlight called aloud for vengeance, and the crack of his rifle was death first to one and then another, the last i. The four braves in eharge of the stock saw no reason for hurrying, and unless there is need for hurry an Indian is the laziest of all the human family. So they went along ina most leisurely manner, not even thinking it necessary to keep any lookout for danger. They, of course. spppnes that all the in- mates of the fort had perished, so, in conse- quence, there could be no pursuit. Hard-Heart was then, they thought, in the flush of another victory over the whites at Dinkel's clearing. Never a solitary thought of the truth of what had transpired since leaving the fort ever crossed their minds. F Gabe and his companions consequently drew close upon them without their having a single suspicion aroused that an enemy was near. ‘“* We must be pretty near ’em now,” said Gabe, nearing paused and bent down to exam- ine the trail more closely. ‘*These tracks are very fresh, and can’t- certainly be more thanan hour or two old.” “I'm glad of that,” was the rejoinder of one of his companions, who had been uneasy con- cerning the safety of the inmates of the fort ever since starting. “I'm glad of that, for there’s no telling but what Hard-Heart may have taken it into his head to pay the fort another visit. Are yer goin’ to ram right ahead, Gabe?” 28 § anyrosd it’s best to plan out what ?we're a-goin’ for to do,” was the reply. “ As to ram- min’ ahead—that depends on circumstances entirely. If we can get close enough to get a shot at’em, why, we'll ram ahead, daylight or no daylight. But more’n likely we'll have .to work their own game on ’em, and give ‘em the first dose when they get into camp.” In fact, the latter proved to be the case. The formation of the ground wassuch that they could not have got near enough for a shot while daylight lasted without being dis- covered. Just before nightfall the Indians tethered the horses, and one of their number kept a watch over the cattle to see that they did not stray off into the woods, In the dusk of the gathering night Gabe and his companions crept up toward the camp, and rene reached a position where at any moment they could obtain a shot. Gabe waited for a good opportunity, as he wanted to make sure of killing all four, He did met ane any of them toescape. _ a is’ Thus he called the attention of the others some time after having gained this splendid cover. The Indians who ‘had been guarding the cattle were approaching the camp-fire, which _~ brought the forms of all into a distinctness _. greater than even daylight could have done. “Now!” said Gabe, in a low tone, and then ve each man instuctions to shoot at a par- Instantly there was a commotion amon the squaws and the young Indians of bot pees who at once darted around in quest of whips. By the time they were ready, Arkansaw nt been stripped to the waist and bound to a tree, + Vindjctive and revengeful asso many she- wolves, did the og adda gather in front of the — scout, glaring on him, restraining themselves with an effort from flying at him, while every muscle was in a state of tension, as they : waited for Hard-Heart’s word of attack. ies? The chief glanced around. + He motioned an Indian to approach. *T can trust you,” he said. ‘‘Remain near the Trackless—do not let him be killed. Some of the women may have knives.” The Indian took his station. Hard-Heart grunted the word for which the aes were impatiently waiting. : a the malevolent she-devils and the © children darted forward and began to ply their switches unmercifully. The twigs cub — his flesh more than/once, wing the blood and smarting fearfully. Arkansaw's lips would have been drawn _— with pain, had he not by an effort wreathed ~ them with a grim smile. oa ** Lay on—lay on,” he muttered; “Someof roe have cause enough to hate me, Heaven nows. ; They evidently thought they had, judg- __ ing aon the energy they infused into their work, | ae And while whipping him, the she-devils —_ fought madlyamong themselves. Allofthem 4 Pesuae Indian, himself reserving his shot in}|~ « ‘ case any of the others failed. pes pe rade sa Ser pa Track-| could not ply the whip on him at-once, and _ weedy “It is and with the universal reply came | those in the rear pores madly to get to “fo Yes, a wild and maddened cry, as if each and | ‘he front, trying to pull back and shove aside _ those who were in the way, who in turn re- Set “Steady! three—fire!” y! One—two— Snead: ees every one were a rabid dog. Crack! “ bring forth the prisoner.” Four rifles spok so nearly were the se o ey . “It was pandemonium let loose. 99 reports blended. habeas? f o ot One old squaw, witha wrinkled and weath- — Beat:
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a eas rls! cat Lee ~ clenched hi: er-beaten_ visage, had been elbowed out of the was ee the moment of the first dash at the scout. ; Now she was squealing, and howling, and struggling, and biting, and kicking, and scratching, as she tried to get in the front ranks, near the scout. Her eyes were snap- ping viciously, like those of a wild animal. At last she reached the position she had been struggling to obtain, and the snarl which she uttered caused Arkansaw to turn his attention on her. Arkansaw knew that there was not one chance in a million of his escaping death. In fact, he-had taken the wiser course under the circumstances, and entertained no thought except of meeting his fate bravely. So now his eyes lighted with a satisfied look as they rested on the old squaw, just in the act of drawing a knife, which, up to this moment, she had kept concealed. Arkansaw hoped the Indian who was guarding against such things as this would not observe the old squaw; better death from a knife thrust at her hands than to be saved to suffer untold agony, and finally be burned at the stake! ‘To more thorough] distorted his face, an are lissing something, she sprang at him, whirled the knife above her Leadentl made a uc pass toward his heart. ut she had been observed. The Indian placed on guard by Hard-Heart jumped to her side in the nick of time, and arrested her fallingarm. Then striking her anger her, the scout spat contemptuously 7 3.savage blowin the face, he ordered her to leave t. wam. : Crestfallen at her non-success, the old hag withdrew, not daring to do au ht but obey. Full well the Indian knew that Arkansaw had invited this attack from the old she-devil, and he made some sarcastic remark to the éffect that the scout was not going to get off as easy as that. **Do your worst,” said Arkansaw, coolly. **Even then you will not be square with me,” shrugging his smarting shoulders. ; The Indian made no reply, only smiled grimly, and watched more ehierniys in case of such another attempt by some squaw who was unable to control her temper. But though the whipping was continued far be- yond the usual time for such things, and the Squaws at length worked themselves into a perfect frenzy, no serious attempt was made on the scout’s life. *“ Wonder how long they’re going to keep this up?” muttered Arkansaw. ‘It’s nearly dusk, and if they intend to finish me by day- light, they'll have to hurry up.” Still the scourging proceeded. Hard-Heart glanced towards Arkansaw with a rather anxious expression on his face, ‘The scout saw it, and at once read his inten- tions. : According to his pre-arranged plan, Hard- Heart kept the braves silent by pointing at the punishment Arkansaw was aeatar eee at the hands of the squaws, and he did not bid the latter desist until it was fairly dark, ‘and too late to think of putting Arkansaw through the catalogue of tortures. ** We must wait for the sun to rise again,” now said Hard-Heart, ‘*‘ Unbind the prisoner and take him away. See that he is closely guarded, for he is a great brave.” eS The Indians saw axbaly through the trick -of Hard-Heart, and grumbled a little ; but he exerted his authority and silenced them. They drove back the squaws, eager yet to continue their cruel work, and then unbound the scout. His hands had been stretched e whipping party, to go to her wig- backward, ’ the thongs that attached his wrists encir- _« cling the trunk, No sooner sy 8 this thong untied than he s/ fist and tumbled one Indian head over heels, and then, his feet being free, made a bold dash for life and liberty. CHAPTER XX. “WILL YOU LET HIM PERISH ?” WHEN morning broke and daylight stole down through the trees, into the camp where the Dinkel party was, not one among the men but breathed a sigh of relief. They knew that Arkansaw had gone out to ascertain the position, and if possible the in- tentions‘of the Indian force. Before leaving ee THE ARKANSAS SCOUT. he had told Jake Dinkel not to be alarmed if he did not soon return. “My absence will be a good sign that you are in no further danger,” he had said. “If Iam not back my daylight, it will be because the Indians have left the neighborhood, and I have followed them.” Since his departure they had been attacked, and had repulsed the Indians. The shot which had first alarmed them, Jake Dinkel attributed to the scout, who he thought had been unable to join them just at the moment. So when morning came without Arkan- saw’s showing up, they became satisfied that the Indians-had vacated the neighborhood. Believing this to be the case, and solicitous concerning their stock and their all, left be- hind at the flight, they determined to at once return to the clearing. Happily they were secure in so doing, and were not molested. An hour or two after the return, the clear- ing was filled by the old busy bustle and sounds of industry. As a memento of the Indian foray stood the ruins of the hut belonging to Jake Dinkel, Another more sorrowful reminder of the terrible scenes through which they had just pees was hidden by a sheet, in an ordinary ut, These hardy frontier people had but little time and as little disposition for sentiment, and they buried the poor fellow that after- noon. It may seem that they were ina hurry, but they reasoned that they could do him no good; he was in other hands now than theirs, and with a few words of eulogy and a simple prayer they laid him away to rest, beneath the shade of a leafy tree. By this time the non-return of Arkansaw pro eas an uneasy feeling in Jake Dinkel’s mind. One of the men had been out reconnoiter- ing, and had found the spot where the In- dians had aie oath together vith ample evi- dence of their having taken avery hasty de- parture. This fact assured Dinkel of the present safety of himself and friends, Consequently he began to be worried on Arkansaw’s account. Brave and able as the latter was, it was still possible that he should not have been able to keep out of the hands of the Indians. Dinkel had been told of what had-happened at the fort, and it struck him that thescout— fe party were safe—had gone to the fort. “ But no, he wouldn’t a-done that without first coming and saying something about it,” muttered Dinkel,.and then, struck by an in- pepe he exclaimed: “I'll go to the fort! = abe Wickett is there and will know whatto 0.” Gabe Wickett and his companions had been back scarcely half an hour when Dinkel put in an appearance, the doing of which quite startled the inmates of the fort, for they at first thought him the sole survivor of the fight which they felt sure the Indians had gone to force upon them. He quickly undeceived them as far ‘as this was concerned. es he old of' the aa ificent bearing of rkansaw, how much t Sach actos hey all owed him, under, and ende tertained for the scout’s safety. Gabe gravely listened to the reasons ad- vanced by Din kel for thinking as he did, and pie honest fellow’s face became very stern and set. “T must have a few minutes to think,” said Gabe, and moved away, then began thought- fully pacing to and fro as he mentally digest- ed what he had heard from Dinkel. Meanwhile the rumor rapidly spread that pies was a oa ti Be among the Indians, oon every one in the fort had i ; GabeGabe! heard it. € voice was a trembling and sad one. * He glanced up. Floy Raynor stood before him, and now placed one little hand on his arm. ‘Gabe, do you think it true?” . “Tm afeard so,” was the gloomy re ly. “Then why are you not, away to his res- cue?” in a tone almost sharp. “T don’t thinkit’s of any nse,” was the Oe reply. “Tf he’s in the hands of Hard- eart— ‘ Gabe paused and shnddered visibly. ‘* Will you let him perish ?"demanded Floy, with a sudden desperate energy in her tone, ** Gabe—Gabe—will you let brave Arkansaw —noble Arkansaw—good Arkansaw—perish without having taken one step or raised your hand to prevent?” “Gal, you loved Arkansaw?” in an almost ne did do,” and Fl **T did—I do,” an oy’s cheek grew rosy. “So do I,” blurted Gabe, “and I nek known him years where you have days. Will I take a step or raise my hand to save him from perishing? Were you a man and dared ie ninteoen a thing I would kill you in your racks ; “Tf you love him,” and Floy never shrank \ one inch from the angry and anguished man, “ go to his rescue.” — **T will,” said Gale, hoarsely. In five minutes he had five companions, armed, ready and waiting, willing to risk their lives with him if aught of good could be accomplished for the brave and manly scout. ‘ . “Come, we will go first_to your clearing,” Gabe said to Dinkel, and off they started without a moment’s delay, their faces reso- lute and set with determination. Having reached Dinkel’s clearing, Gabe had him conduct them to the spot where the In- dian camp had been cast. That distance they would be saved going over after the break of day. Until if was no longer possible to do so, Gabe had cherished the hope of finding Ar- kansaw at Dinkel’s clearing. But no, he had not returned, nor had aught been heard of or from him. Every minute seemed an age to these men, as they impatiently awaited the breaking of day. There is a saying that the longest lane must have a turning, and at last day did break. Eagerly, then, these men began to scrutinize and examine the camp and surrounding ground, and especially the broad trail the In- dians had left bebind them on taking their hasty departure. ~ This last was being paid especial attention to by Gabe, who was down on his hands and knees, his head bent near the earth, looking something as a blood-hound does when searching for the scent. Slowly Gabe work- ed ahead, on his hands and knees, his eyes keenly scrutinizing every footprint that, was viMuaily a halt-sob, half ed hi inally a half-sob, half-gasp, escap: im. He had made a discovery. ; m But he would not call the attention of the» others, would not say anything, until he was positive. r : Onward he crept. He came to aspot where the soil was a little more moist, where the impressions were a trifle plainer. There could no longer be any doubt, and he called the others to his side. ox “Thar!” he exclaimed, pointing at a well defined footprint. ‘‘Thar’s the evidence! ‘Arkansaw was captured and was a prisoner when the Injuns left that thar spot yonder,” nodding toward the camp. =o “But how can you be so positive? That footprint looks no different to me from hun- dreds of others,” said one of his companions. ““T once seed yer readin’. I couldn’t do it~ can’t tell one letter from another—but I don’t go for to say there ain’t books, and that thar atitude he had put thém j ain't some who can read "em. . These woods— by stating the fears he en-j this ground-—the sky—the clouds—air my books. I’ve seen that thar footprint too many times to be mistaken init.” | ‘ se Tend on, Gabe. I’m with you,” returned the other, convinced by Gabe’s reasoning and confident manner of speaking. There was no longer any reason for delay. They looked at each other for one second, 4 and each saw a look which told of a firm de- « termination to stop at no danger, to never falter, to never turn aside, until the purpose for which they had come was accomplished. Gabe cut out the pace, and he did not spare himself. They followed, and met his every effort with new energy, nor ever lagged once. Steadily they pursued the broad trail pausing only for a minute when they paused at all. Hour after hour. they pressed on- ward, never flagging, with little or no hope of being able to save ArkanSsaw, yet deter- mined never to give up until they had eith- er rescued\ him or knew for sure he had — fallen a victim to the vengeful fury of the redskins. , ; Rest and sleep were never thought of. ieee prevented a singlesomnolent eeling. Finally Gabe suddenly paused and pointed
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3 peak ane eat at 18. shot by Lightning. “* We must be more careful now,” said Gabe. “The ‘sign’ is getting very thick and fresh.” | j Hardiy had the words fallen from his lips when a terrible yell echoed and re-echoed through the woods. Crack! crack! crackl. Half a dozen Indians rose up before them. * They turned to flee, but their way was barred by as many more. They had HOEY, entered an ambuscade. Crack! crack! crack! **To cover, lads!” exclaimed Gabe. But one of their number did not respond. us had fallen with an Indian’s bullet in his rain, CHAPTER XXII. 5 LIGHTNING’S GRATITUDE. Hap Arkansaw but once gained the cover of the woods the chances were a thousand to one in favor of his making his escape. His name of the Trackless was one he well mer- ited, and which was descriptive, as most In- dian names are. j But fate was against him. He had not gone a dozen steps when his toe caught in the projecting roots of a tree, and he was Sent headlong to the earth. Before he could arise, the Indians were upon him, and he was again a prisoner. Hard-Heart was at first inclined to soundly berate those who had unbound Arkansaw. _ But when he saw him secure in custody again he held his peace, being shrewd enough not to strain or tax his authority too far, it hav- ing been much weakened by the recent dis- asters, for which he was to a great extent responsible, “ Dog of a pale-face!” he exclaimed, striking Arkansaw across the face, thus venting on him the spleen he dared not visit on the braves, Arkansaw laughed contemptuously. “Only for that confounded root tossing me, ‘ou’d a been whistling for me now,” he said. ‘Give me ten a start in this gathering darkness, and I'd snap my fingers in your e. “The Trackless will not have another such chance,” grimly returned the Indian chief, and he took food care that his words should prove truthful, for he personally superin- tended’ Arkansaw’s re-binding, and never lost sight of him until he was safely lodged again in his place of confinement. “‘ Well,” reflected the scout, when he was left alone—“ well, I’ve done all Icould to save myself, and can dono more, asIsee. Well, the jig is up with me. To-morrow afternoon, SED pose, they will put me to the torture, and wind up by burning me at the stake. ‘Howsomever, it will be a barren victory for "em, considering their losses.” \ For awhile Arkansaw was silent, and then, in‘a tone that was tinged’ with regret, he soliloquized : “Poor Gabe! He'll feel bad when I don't come back—I know he will. And there’s that little Floy Raynor—I wonder if she’d shed a tear about me? Bless her dear little heart of course she will; she’d be sorry if a bird was to suffer. But would she shed a tear for me, personally ?” Arkansaw sighed. He was not afraid to meet the death which would probably be meted out to him on the morrow, but as he ey there he could not for the life of him help wishing he was free and back at the fort, and not so much of a frontiersman, not quite so rough, not quite so unpolished—in short, that he was just about such a man as he had an idea that the husband of Floy Raynor should . “ Well—well,” he at last murmured, “there’s no use wishing, ‘cause it can’t be, and there’s an end on’t,” and then he stretch- ed himself out and tried to sleep. ; He was resigned. . No longer had he any hopes or thoughts of _ being able to make his escape. _ faithful friend was at that time planning and _ scheming to snatch him from the grasp of his enemies. But such was the truth. g * And the friend was the young white-Indian, _ the son of John Platt, known best by his In- |, dian name of Lightning. _ jo _ It was no mere jest on his Bey when he _ 8wore to prc e cruel death of the Indian maiden Sunlight. An Indian in so many respects, even though Nor did he for one moment imagine that a}i ! THE) ARKANSAS SCOUT. to the body of a dead Indian—one of these [now but white blood flowed in his veins, he was a thorough Indian in that he could neither forget an obligation nor forgive an in- ury. ‘ Atter having so remorselessly killed the Indians Hard-Heart had sent in quest of those to whose care the stolen stock of Fort Platt had been committed, Lightning had pru- dently sought out a retreat, covering and Des his trail so that he could not be tracked. pie The braves sent outin search of him had been unable to find him, and thought that he pad beacons frightened, and had fled the Vi- cinity. . But had they only known it, they had once been within a dozen feet of him. Lightning's eyes flashed vindictively, he had raised his rifle, and on the very point of shooting had restrained himself on Arkansaw’s account, A double motive led him to wish to assist the scout to escape. % One was that the latter had twice saved his life. The other was because the escape of Ar- kansaw would be a much harder blow to and Heats than the loss even of half a dozen raves, When confident that all pursuit of himself had ceased, Lightning stole from his hiding- place, and silently as a snake made his vay along until he reached a spot where he coul see into the Indian village, reaching this point of vantage just at the time when the scout was being so cruelly scourged by the squaws, 5 é witnessed Arkansaw’s daring but inef- fectual dash for liberty, and his eyes lighted with a look of genuine admiration. He ‘is a great brave!" said the white In- dian. “It would be arity for such a brave todie at thestake. Lig sie willsave him, Several hours passed without Lightning moving an inch. He seemed as if carved out of stone, so still and motionless was he, while tiently waiting for the hour to arrive for im to act. He had determined to enter the Indian vil- lage when all was silent in it, and all were sleeping. . It must have been fully midnight when Lightning stretched himself, and then moved softly out of his cover, Not a sound broke the silence that hung over the village. With “cpt steps, Lightning approached the outskirts of the village, and silently as a cat creeps forward to seize her unsuspecting victim, he entered ib. His hand was ever on the handle of his tomahawk, for he knew full well that his life was nowcarried in hishand. To be seen and recognized meant instant death. He knew the place where the scout was confined, and toward this he laid his course, taking advantage of the shelter afforded by the huts or wigwams which lay in his path. Pausing as he gained the cover of each of these he would stand and listen intently be- fore going on again. The tactics of the Indians bear a great re- semblance to the movements of a beast of prey, only that they exhibit a trifle more reason. Mentally, they might easily be the etait link between man and the wild asts, Lightning began to smile, rf He was doing splendidly. In another min- ute or two he would be in sight of Arkan- saw’s prison, and ts to the present had met with no bar or check. Then he suddenly drew his knife. He heard footsteps drawing near, coming in his direction. f It was a messenger whom Hard-Heart— uneasy about Arkansaw in spite of all his precautions—had sent to make sure that the scout wasinsafe-keeping. | The Indian turned the corner of the hut which just then concealed Lightning, The latter shrunk close to the building, in hopes that the other would pass without discover- anes Bae asa? be dia apis wish to 7 ae s which a struggle might uce, But he was discovered mg j ‘Who are you?” was demanded, in the In- ‘dian tongue, the tone showing clearly that the speaker saw nothing to fear in the other’s resence, ; ‘* Bear’s-Meat,” was thereply. Had ry Sapees known exactly who the In- dian was he would not have given this name, for the Other was a brother of 's-Mea who had been severely wounded and left be- x rs eee hind at Dinkel’s clearing, facts unknown to Lightning. : ttering an exclamation of mingled sur- prise and joy, the brother of Bear’s-Meat stepped toward Lightning, who spoke again. His voice aroused suspicion in the other's mind, and—— : “You are not Bear’s-Meat!” he cried. _ “No, I am not!” hissed Lightning, pete) that he was in for it, and darting his left han forward his fingers gripped the Indian's throat, and like a flash, the keen knife sought the other’s heart. That vital organ was reached. ' Without so much as a groan, the Indian expired. It was an opportune, as well as a ano knife thrust, for, had it been delay- ed a little, or had proved ineffectual, a wild alarm must have been raised. Lightning caught the falling body in his a and laid it gently and noiselessly own, Pausing but for a few seconds, holding the blood-dripping knifein his hand, heagain ad- vanced on the hut where Arkansaw was , kept. rom the next cover that Lightning gained he could see the door of the prison-pen. He at first could hardly believe his eyes, but true it was—there was no sentinel before it, as he had expected there would be, It did. not occur to him that the guard might be encircling the hut and that he was now concealed by it. 2 hy E Sheathing his knife, TAS nS went swift- ly but silently toward Arkansaw’s prison. He had ] it to attract the scout’s attention, when a guttural exclamation caused him to turn. The sentinel stood beside him, his hand on his tomahawk. He bent forWard, then seemed to recognize Lightning, for he uttered a shrill, warning whoop. ; CHAPTER XXH, AWAY. ard before’Arkansaw’s prison- pen uttered the warning whoop that rang through the village and alarmed the braves in every wigwam, it seemed as if Lightning's attempt tosave the scout would end ina miserable failure, and probably cost him his own life as well. But at such a juncture, a quick eye and a ready hand can often change the whole aspect of affairs, He who is the quickest with the revolver, or knife, or tomahawk, is the best man. ‘ And Lightning proved to be the quickest. Every movement of his was inexpressibl swift—whence his name—and ere the gua could raise his weapon to strike Lightning down, the latter had snatched out his toma- WHEN the hawk, and in the fraction of a second it was” buried to the head in the Indian's brain. Bolts and bars were then unknown among the Indians, and the rude door of the prison- pen was securea by a multitude of rawhide = Ze thongs, fastened to pegs. Li tning did not pause to attempt to un- tie these things. ; One blow from his keen tomahawk severed ed and he Cashed in the door as the tho were parted. | Ay ansavr Trad been ier when Light- ing ta on the door, if Asepere had been aroused. Long habit had so trained his mind that the’ moment his eyes opened he was wide awake, instead of Tike many pecplby an aking grad He sprang to the door, just as sent up the warning whoop. 3 An enemy of the Indians was near. Being an enemy to them, it must bea friend of his, it 5 thought the scout, eandian. the era eard the sickenin fae cleft the Indian's earn and heard the the thongs, hich followed and pred nat Sched door was’ sent open, Arkansaw bounded forth, and hearing a satisfied excla- mation, from the voice alone recognized Lightning. " ““T knowed rey was a trump—that your le-face blood must show,” said the scout. ‘But here, cut these bonds on my wrists— quick! the whole village is aroused!” is i gape or two my vanes arece etm! “Take his weapons!” an nin ed at the dead sentinel, “We may ae ‘A ht. , +3 ae Good idea,” muttered Arkansaw, grit bending down, Ashe arose a glad cry: Aha ut being a light @ guard reached the door, had knocked on ~ ve to ~
Page 19
from his lips. ‘I’ve got old reliable back again!” he exclaimed. Chance had so arranged it that the sentinel poarding him that night was the Indian who ad become the possessor of Arkansaw’s rifle. The scout recognized the weapon the moment his hand touched it. To seize this and possess himself of the powder horn and bullet pouch, and knife, and tomahawk, was the work of only a few sec- onds; and then they sprang swiftly away as the braves began to rush out-of-doors on every side. One Indian saw them coming and tried to check them. His temerity cost him his life. Lightning, while running at full speed, sent his tomahawk flying from his hand. True to _ its aim, the weapon cleft the skull of the op- poser, and he fell heavily. : On the fly Lightning recovered his weapon, and on they dashed again, Crack!, Crack! _ Several of the braves had bbed their muskets as they dashed from their huts, and catching a glimpse of the dark figures began to blaze away. Crack! Crack! In the excitement of the moment they aim- ed badly and the fugitives escaped unharmed, arbough the bullets came uncomfortably ose. Then came a demoniac cee of rage. Like a pack of bloodthirsty blood-hounds the savages now dashed in the direction they had taken. Bist Escape or no escape, Arkansaw could not resist the temptation of doing as he had often done to them before, and pausing just before plunging into a thicket, he waved his ' hand above his head and sent back a con- ' temptuous cry of defiance. It came near costing him very dear, for his omentary pause enabled an Indian to take tter aim at him. Crack! i The bullet skimmed over his hatless head, cutting a iurrow in the hair and grazing his scalp until it felt as if a red-hot poker had been laid across it. * Close!” he grunted, shook his head, then _ sprang swiftly away. The scout felt like thanking Lightning for ~ his friendship, for the risk he hadrun in thus - rescuing him. But there was no time for ' words, nor indeed would it be wise to so _ waste his breath at present. - On—on—they dashed through the woods, now striking against some root and going headlong, now scrambling up, now bumping ] up against one tree as they swiftly spran y- haide at finding another in their path: Rae But they cared nothing for bumps and bruises. Both understood the situation and _ were aiming at one thing. If they could only _ increase their lead so much that the pursuers - could no longer be guided by the noise they _ made, they would have an opportunity to re- sort tostrategy. To accomplish this, then, they were strain- ing every muscle, making every effort. eu} “Before day broke this object was attained, and they suddenly turned and followed a - course ab right angles with that which they had been following. _- Just as the sun arose, Arkansaw paused “4 and faced his companion. 4 “Lightning, there’s my hand! Are you too mach ot ot Indian to shake a white man by ' the han Bn No, the Trackless is a great brave—it is an honor to take him by the hand,” was the Srerly, as his grasp met the cordial one of ‘Arkansaw. ~ _** Now, then, you have helped me toescape, at the risk of your own life, for Hard-Heart - would kill you if he knew it. How much further are you friendly to me?” **'To the fort.” “To the fort!” echoed the scout. ‘*Are you - not going back to the aes ?” 3 ey. No, Henceforth, the patna is tribe- “less,” in a gloomy tone, and with darkenin prow. “Sunlight, the daughter of Hard- Heart, was to come to the wigwam of the hegre ome ‘because she loved me. y have five , this hand in avenging her, fallen b Benes riser tiriet yet flow. ‘Then you are with me?” - s 4am. } ’ a and fro with their reports, always of non- | Moody and gloomy, and boilin phekar Tage at the Teflect on that Ar THE ARKANSAS SCOUT. ‘ **Good! Then come on. Follow my every movement closely.” Arkansaw now proceeded to put into prac- tice the peculiar tactics by which he blinded his trail, which had gained for him the name of the Trackless. . Lightning imitated every move made by the scout; he could understand the shrewdness of every step the scout took, and his admira- tion for the “‘ great pale-face brave” became deeper and greater. __ Meanwhile, progressing in this manner by jumping from stone to stone and never put- ting foot to ground where a print could pos- sibly be left, Arkansaw was keeping his eyes open in quest of a secure cover. At length he found one that drew from him an exclamation of deep satisfaction, A heavy tornado which must have swept over the spot years before had made what is called on the frontiers, a “‘windrow.” That is, it had prostrated, like a curlick, a belt of trees, while on either side the woods showed no signs of the tornado. The trees in this windrow had noé all been killed by this rude treatment. In: the spot which had attracted the attention of the scout, half a dozen trees had enough roots re- maining in the ground to keep them alive, and though prostrate they still leafed out in the spring and grew and thrived in a manner that was marvelous, considering the cir- cumstances. Parting the foliage carefully, Arkansaw and Lightning crept under the leafy screen, and once there could defy the closest scrutiny. Hard-Heart and the Indians were not idle during all this time. escaped him, a gleam of pleasure was brought to his face when at last he listened to the re- port ofone of the scouts. Thereport was that the scout had discovered a body of six white men following the trail which led to their village. “We will draw them into an ambuscade and kill them all,” said the Indian chief, hoarsely, ‘We lose one pale-face, and six are thrown into our hands, It is well! What say my brothers?’ appealing to those beside him. For answer their eyes glittered alittle more brightly, while they significantly placed their hands on the handles of their tomahawks, the weapon of all others on which an {ndian most depends, and on which he places the greatest reliance in a close struggle. _ At once Hard-Heart had uttered his gather- ing cry, loud enough fo reach the ears of the scattered Indians, but not loud enough to be heard by Gabe’s party, who were still some distance oer unaware, of course, that their approach had been discovered. _ they were informed that this was the case in a most startling manner, the first inti- mation being received when the wila yells of the Indians and a volley of bullets inform- ed them that they had entered the lines of an ambuscade, They had naturally faced about for the pur- pose of ‘retreating until GaN could find a cover. But the way had been blocked. : Then Gabe sprang to one side of the trail, calling to the others to follow. One of the number did not respond. He lay there dead, able a blood oozing from a bullet-hole in is head. Waiting until daylight came to their aid,| Crack! they picked up the trail at the point where} Crack! : | they could no longer follow it because of los-} Crack! k The bullets whistled harmlessly over the spot where the pale-faces had been but a mo- ment before. All five had found cover now in a dense clump of low bushes. : It was a terrible situation! I Not one was there in that party who did not know that his life was in the greatest Jeopardy which he had ever known. ey dared not leave the clump of bushes, To have done so was to precipitate them- Selves into the hands of a body of Indians, many times stronger than they were, while if they remained quiet, the Indians would soon have their rifles re-loaded and then would pepper the bushes, in which case some one of them, or all of them, would be hit sooner or latter. **Say your prayers, boys!” It was Gabe who spoke, and his'words were evidence that he saw no hope of suc- cessfully getting out of the trap they had fallen into. “Do we stand no show at all?” asked one, “Durned little!” was the hasty reply. ** Boys, we might’s well look the case squar- ly inthe face. Say yer prayers, but be brief, hen we'll make asortie. Some one may git off, but most on us’ll leave our scalps in the clutches of the red devils.” Brief indeed were the prayers they uttered. ““We are ready,” said one, in a strained voice. ‘‘Let’s settle the thing and have it over as soon as possible.” “Tet every man be ready with his rifle,” said Gabe, ina perfectly cool tone. No noise! They must not have a single sec- ond to get ready for our dash,” ing the sounds produced by the flight of Ar- kansaw and his assistant, whoever he was, “Tt was Lightning,” said Hard-Heart, after having examined the trail. ‘He it was who has robbed us of our victim, He shall be put to the torture.” : \ : Like sleuth-hounds, Hard-Heart’s party fol- lowed the trail to the point where it so sud- denly disappeared. “Tt is useless!” gloomily said one of the vee “Does he fly, that he leaves no trail?” But Hard-Heart knew that it was all ac- complished by natural means, even though he could not understand those means; and he ordered half a dozen braves to spread out and beat up the woods carefully, meanwhile looking for where the trail might again com- mence, One of these scouts sent out passed near to the covert of the scout and Lightning. The atter was with difficulty restrained from sending a bullet into the ndian’s head. The Indian scout paused, and his eyes for a full minute rested suspiciously on their place of concealment; and then an incredulous smile parted his lips as he flashed his eyes over the earth. There was no trail leading to this cover, tha? set it was impossible that they should be there. , The Indian was just on the point of leaving when he suddenly pucked up his ears, a movement imitated by the scout and Light- ning. : att is Hard-Heart’s signal for the braves to gather,” said bras eT aes turning to Arkan- saw, just as the Indian scout hurried swiftly their muscles, and then: “Now!” said Gabe, ina away. ; , “Temast have some significance,” mused hoarse whisper. the scout. ‘* What can it mean?” Crash! | But he would not leave the cover just yet;} Crack—crack! it would be folly torun themselves intonew]| | Crack—crack! Crack—crack! igs eril without some good cause. Lying the Both waited. and listened, eis Pens At last, from some distance, came a wild yell and the crack of rifles, “Tt is a rescuing party sent after me!” ex- claimed the scout, “and ‘they have run into an ambush. Come!” and they broke cover, and The crash was caused by the pale-faces springing from the clump of bushes, The clump at the command of Hard-Heart, every bullet of which arrived too late to doinjury. “Now! like deers, sprang, toward the scene of the} Again Gabe spoke, conflict. Crack—crack! j Crack—crack | 4 CHAPTER XXIII, | |») THE LAST BLOW. / Watts Hard-Heart and a few companions stood waiting, the scouts sent out by him in search of Arkansaw’s trail kept coming to Five rifles belched forth their smoke and leaden messengers, and, unlike the volley of the Indians, it was not thrown away. Four of the red devils never again would whoop and shout; never again would wield the tom- success, and to receive new orders. - over with saw had! scalping-knife. The rifles of the Indians having been dis- charged, it now became a h y Boe ' 19. ** Hist! - ad-to-hand con- lee One minute of bated breathing, to gather ~ volley was that of the Indians poured into the ahawk; never again make use of the cruel -
Page 20
er flict—the five white men against a dozen or fifteen Indians. It was a grand struggle on the part of the white men! Clubbing their rifles, they rushed at the red foe. They expected to die anyhow, and they were reckless in their bravery. Thud! Gabe’s rifle stock fell with crush ng force _ on an Indian’s head, and he fell with a groan. G0W TO BECOME A ,fAGICIAN.—Containing the . laced before the public. Also, tricks with ce 10 cents. For sale by all newsdealers, _ free, upon receipt of price! orth Moore street, *“T wouldn't take your headache for a good deal,” mutterd Gabe. ‘‘ Come on now, ye red varmints—come on! Come on, until I give headaches to some more of ye!” Gabe’s words encouraged the others, and ther fought with mad fary. But they were so greatly outnumbered that soon the closing in parties of Indians had them penned in a small space. They dropped their rifles now, and back lanted against back, they faced the foe with rawn kuives. A tomahawk came flying at Gabe’s head. He dodged and let it fly past, and so great was its force that it felled an Indian in the other party, A savage had followed the tom- ahawk’s flight, and got within arm’s length of Gabe before he saw that the latter would escape him. Gabe reached out. His arm was swiftly raised, the flashing blade claimed a victim, a sight which drew a furious hen from the In- -dians who saw the brave fall. They were heroes, every man of them, But they were too hard pressed. Fight as bravely as they would, the space about them was slowly contracted. They were almost as helpless to prevent this as a young lamb is when ually wrapped in the eadly and crushing folds of aboa-constrictor. Closer and closer the yelling red devils pressed in on them. * There was barely room now to wield a knife. In another minute they could easily be reached by the tomahawk, and then the end would come. ** Well done!” cried Gabe. ‘* We have al- ready killed more than our own number. Make ’em sick, boys, make ’em sick, and——” Crack! Crack! Suddenly Gabe was interrupted by the re- ports of two rifles, one following closely on the heels of the other. In either party an Indian fell, and one of them was Hard-Heart, the chief. “Friends are at hand!” yelled Gabe. “‘Make the Injuns sick, boys, make ’em sick!” From out of the woods, where the smoke of the rifles was curling upward, bounded the figures of two men, Arkansaw and Lightning. The latter had beeued to be allowed to shoot Hard-Heart, and Arkansaw had assen and, as they sprang from their cover, h torn open Lightning’s hunting shirt, thus ex- posing his bare white breast, as a protection sapeay the hands of Gabe’s party, who, from the color of his face, might take him for an Indian. The redskins saw their chief fall, saw the two men springing forward, and with accents of fear they murmured : “Tt is the Trackless!” : Suddenly the vim departed from their fighting, and it became half-hearted, and they rate now a common purpose and inclina- ion. : Gabe saw this. ** Make "em sick, boys, make ’em sick!” was’ his battle-cry, and sick indeed were the red- skins made. The Indians would have shown the pale- faces no quarter, and the latter in turn showed none to them, It wasa fight of ex- himself, ard-Heart termination. Into that fray Arkansaw flun The tide had been turned when of magical illusions ever ecards, incantations, ete. or sent to your address, Tousey, er, 34 36 Box 2150" 4 dOW TO KEEP BIRDS.—Handsomely illustrated, and containing ee and training of the ements eels 2 paid on 0) ca * Poa and 96 ( Seue meiae” : penne hoe sale by all newsd the price. Address Frank Tousey, street, New Yorks, P.O, Box 2730. ey yd Pe ae a = . THE ARKANSAS SCOUT. fell,and now the current set strongly inj mind. Nevertheless, he could not help it ts favor of the whites. Blood flowed like water, and it was nearly | when all the blood of the redskins. They at last} and dreamy way. could no longer stand the terrible punish- ment, and one by one they flung themselves into the bushes and tried to sneak away. But every one of them was watched, and many a one met his death when congratulating him- self on having obtained cover—on being out of the fray. Only four of the Indians escaped. A wild, triumphant laugh drew the atten- tion of the party to where Lightning knelt beside Hard-Heart. From the moment of joining in the fray, Lightning had steadily ie his way near- er to where the chief had fallen. He had not intended his shot to be fatal, but had de- signed it to strike him down and give the chief into his avenging hands. Lightning had at last reached the spot, and found Hard-Heart dying of his wound, but creeping laboriously toward the bushes to conceal himself there. Lightning seized him and turned him on his back, as if the chief were a turtle, and then his scalping knife sprang forth. “ Hard-Heart called me a coward!” hissed Lightning. ‘‘He sneered at me because [ came back from the war-path without scalps! You killed my Sunlight! Her blood cried from the ground that sucked it up for venge- ance! Thus doI take my first acoloty He seized the chief's Peers n his left hand, and with the knife in an is eyes used to follow Floy around he was in her presence, in a tender ““See here, pard,” said Gabe, one day, ‘‘why don’t you brace up to Floy ?” 5 ** What do you mean ?” ** Why don’t you tell her ?” : ** Tell her what ?” s **Come, now,” in a tone of disgust, “yer — can’t bamboozle me. Don’t weall see it and all know it? And don’t she know it, too? And ain't she a-gittin’ mad ‘cause yer ain’t got the spunk to speak right out square?” “Getting mad? Why, it can’t be, Gabe, that she—that she—she——” ** But itis,” said Gabe, pd rarer ** You aresure of it?” a great joy lighting up Arkansaw’s noble and honest face. ; “*Sure of it? Didn’t she tell me so herself? And didn’t she go for me, like the vixen she is, when I didn’t start soon enough to rescue you to please her? Yes—yes, Arkansaw,its all right where she’s concerned, but——” ‘ “But what?” *<7’m sorry for yer.” *Sorry for me LAE if it all proves true, Gabe, this earth won’t hold ahappier man.” Gabe gravely shook his head. = *“*She’s spunky, she is,” he slowly said. **And when a man gets married he’s tied © ; down—no wore four or five months in the + woods ata stretch. And then the responsi- — bility of young ones——” A tear actually stood in Gabe’s eye. He é his right, cut} would almost as soon have seen Arkansayy. through the flesh to the boneyand. then tore} compelled to run the gantlet, as to see hin’ off the reeking trophy, his s out of victo mingling with a cry of anguish from Hard. ] eart. “ Hark!” z Lightning bent forward in the attitude of one who listened, while he held his breath in suspense. “The innocent blood of Sunlight no longer hatha tongue.” So he softly said, gazed at Hard-Heart’s last drawn breath, his last convulsion, and ot drew away with saddened and clouded ee ° CHAPTER XXIV, AND LAST, | Two days later the perty reached the fort, having Lightning in their company and rev- erently bearing the body of their fallen com- rade. ; Never again would Hard-Heart or any of his band give them any trouble, for before leaving the place of that grand struggle they had gone to the Indian village and relentless- ly killed every,male member of the communi- ty who was able to go on the war-path. The others were spared, but their village was swept from existence. It is not our wish now to spin out this story by introducing all that occurred on the re- turn to the fort. That Arkansaw received a warm welcome, from all, is needless to.say, as it is equally a bias that Floy Raynor’s was the warmest of all. 1 «© And would you have felt so\ very bad if I hadn’t come back ?’ Arkansaw asked, when tears came into Floy’s eyes, as she heard of the t peril he had been in. « [—I—guess so,” as Floy suddenly took to her heels, much to the astonishment of the scout, “ Dang me if I can understand women,” he mutterea to himself. ‘I wonder why she acts so funny with me? Now, if I wasn’t so rough—was handsome, and a good talker, —s ladies’ man, I’d think—that—possibly— 8s ” e— It seemed foolish to him to allow himself to even think of such a thing as was in his grandest assortmen= | Frank New York. P,Q ete, ete, North Hoore 68 OW TO MAKE LOVE, a complete guide to love, courtship, and mar riage, giving sensible advice, rules and etiquette to be observed, with OW TO BEHAVE, containing the ruts and etiquette or good s and the easiest and most approved methods of sppestne good vantage at parties, balls, in the. ~- room. . Price 10 cents. Yor sale by all newsdealers, or sent, on receipt of price. dress Frank Tousey, publisher, 86 North Moore street. New York. Sox 2730. get married. ae Arkansaw afterward learned thatGabe had ~~ not misstated facts as regarded Floy, and at once proclaimed himself as being the hap- piest man on earth. = “And you Jove me, Floy, ugly-lookin am, and with only one ear on my h had said. ‘“‘Tf your other ear and nose were gone, I'd still love you,” said Floy, withamerry laugh. “But if you were to lose an arm now——" with a demurely mischievous look. a “Well, why would that make any more difference than the loss of ears and nose?” “Oh! you don’t hug me with yourearsand nose,” said Floy, and then punished him for his lack of perception by running away. eee ‘As for Lightning, he made the fort his home, but for years he spent the greater part ~~ of his time in the woods. = Gradually, however, dormant recollections — of early childhood were awakened within him, and he came to know and beg Mrs. Platt as his mother. Little by little his — character underwent a change, and he lost the Indian traits which had been instilled — into him, and the life among the savages at last became to him something like a dream. But he was never thoroughly reclaimed un- til after his marriage to Mary McGrath, whom our readers will remember, 23 John Platt teased aie a day approached which had marriage to Arkansaw. “Take my advice and don’t m said John Platt, witha laugh. “* marrying a man with only one ear. What a ss comical sight it will be to see a lot of little Arkansaws all going around with onlyone asI = he = = at deal as the ee : nm set for her arry him,” e ideaof ear. a But ‘all the little Arkansaws that came — along in due course of time had the full com- plement of ears, a fact over which John Platt — never failed to express his surprise in aban- tering tone. eine Well, our story—our true story!—is ended, save to add that not many years after anew settlement _and new fort sprang up not far from the Platts, and Arkansaw named it for Floy by calling it Fort Raynor, THE END.] u 00re het "6 theater, church, an ah
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THE FIVE CENT WIDE AWAKE LIBRARY. 644 Yankee Pete, the Man Me Grifstiecr was taats James D. ‘Montague 645_Hotspur Harry; or, The’ xan are x. Armstrong 6{6 Buckskin Burke; or, The Goi of f Gold. by Kit Clyde 647 per ines and Regulars; or, nee Cont of In- ~e we MdeNnCe.........+-25 by 1. Ralph Fenton e ystery of Dead te s Castle......... 619 Mad Pete; or, a Fearful Sees Wis James D. By 2 ee ee by Wild Bill 653 a per Against sianeeaiss or, ee + ie “1 65 The Boy Pedestrians; or, Brom’ ‘Ouiternianee tO Maine. sects coche. cess by Jas. D. Montague 655 Tom Baenwood: the Swamp) Hero.....0..20% by Capt. E. Park 656 A Sailor’s Diary............. Ee teen Lenoir Got. Brontier Fred 5. cies ccs te wesceces by Texas Joe 658 Tales of the War............... ard 660 The Boy Mechanic... Seen vets by 662 New York Noll, the edi Police'l sete y Horace "Appleton “es aoe Marion, the Patriot Spot the Reyo- WON aieysitenseueteecees y Ralph Morton 664 Tome poaene in 2 it; eos at mer Boy’s Brave exa Sceaaoe m, _ 665 The Shortys’ Country Bea 3, £ tore—comic F yy ' 666 Gunboat Harry; or, The Navy’s Best Man ; by Col. Ralph Fenton 667 oighs Reade, Jr.’s Great Electric Tricycle, e ‘What He Did for Chari by “‘ Noname”’ f By piex Wheel, the Young Roller Skater...... by Percy B. St. John _ 669 The Ghostly Bell Ringer... ver Horace Aden 670 Man-of-War_ Dick; or, Mightin for Stars and Bars.............. b ph Morton ar with the ‘arry kwi 2 Guide of the 674 aaa One ie Erle ethwestsucccsscsvtouse ..by_“Noname” 675 A ene Boy. in Mexico:!2!by Don Ji Tame SS 676 Cast Up; or, Adventures oo ate we rou, oepe 677 Steam- te Steve, the Boy Phictot of the Mis. oe fe OO EEE ETS Coe by Hal Standish 678 The Yankee Boy Whaler....by Albert J. Booth 679 Little Mike Bere se Pride of the Irish . Morgan Rattler reeeby Al Will Dayton the Engineer NG ape ne y Albert J. Booth 683 The Pacific ter..by Alexander Armstrong 684 The Lost aler; or, Sen hosters of the Northern Seas. ........c.cceeceeees by C. Little 685 Panama a ree or, The Oneare of the : RBCS See ac lose ta ester os y Hal Standish 686 Sightless £ Saul, the Mysterious ian of Mon- : tana by ““Noname” 687 poeaee ae and His Old Blind } ee | : ter Against . Shackleford a Lar. Howard De Vere ~ 693 The Sunken City. A Tale cee a4 Royal Dick; or, Standing by, His Chums.. Me by Hal Standish 6% ee at ing: or, The rons rear n fe - yde 697 Frank SAE Jr., With His arth b z ae ame 7 a 698 Trusty og ie the Brave Old Soni. wiileiuectes , by “ Noname” r poeound at Sea; or, he Secret He pre Hat tandish : aay C. Little : 708 taaeth os PMS oa Son; er Adventures . Brougham : 704 Bags of Ci Maa. Dz Mon e 7 the Fire Bu No. 6; or, eG ost of the Sea by Allyn Draper 706 The Wolf-Fighters; ate The RATER ECA r Two New York Bo: esota.....-. Railroad Larry; or, ean ow De vere on m mss 2 the Youbet J- Booth : Bound. er; or, The Young Fire Lad- ue of Spring dale’sss.coss-DY Rec Lantos 709 Two Weeks on a Wreck; or, oe | in MidiOcean 22 Seeist seas seet ses y Hal Standi 710 tee aaOny: Travelers; or, Aoi the World COMIC... 5... 0222s eee set by. Peter Pad 711 The “Haunted Pioneer; or, Fighting for Texas i Sifec ter cskebecpet eves “Noname” 712 Teaver! From a Diary; or, A Yi one Clerk’s Anna by H. K. Shackleford egade; or, eats in Ken- any 'y 715 ire ee tie Sagi Hunter. ..b 716 Ey Rie Senator; oe PEE oe POPES ED “Noname” The Rival Hook and rence SERTRe tess seer ss y Robert Lennox 720 Kidnapped: or, Forced on a pte o’ War by J. G. Bradley 721 Jack o’ the Plains; or, The Headiess M. ae by Paul Braddon ier or, a Blow for Fre FoR TS oitains e 723 Muldoon, th athe Lpecent Seedy. ees Teaser 724 A Newsboy’s Tri: un e W. ‘4 = by H. K. Shackleford 725 In Dixie; or, A War Smee tcene 's Thril- ling ‘Adventures........ Col. — ih Fenton aor ane Skeleton Sentinel.. . Kellogg Tom Teaser mined by a. K. Shackleford is Last Shot for Wine 729 Davy Crockett 's Vow; or, Vengea 730 Keeping His Word; or, “ 732 The ity atic Maiden; C0 poe aL Deadly Morgan Rattler oy egrets -b 5S ay, Sen ‘a hie au Aes ceeeeees b Kit Ciyde st; or, On ae Plains With yy Robert Maynard 736 A Sailor ] ry 's Kingdom; pas Avon Amer- ica in the South Heo Geers y H. K. Shackleford 737 The Forest Mystery....... ee Jas. D. Montague | ‘ 738 Beaver aaF or, Three Voyagers.in he Yel- lowstones:frs8opeiiis co waneases is Kit care 739 A Wait front the Sea; or, Flung Hes a e Foam fiz esieess eaves, by Thomas P. M urray 740 The Book Agent’s Luck—comic......by ““Ed” 741 Dandy Rock, the Man from Texas......-.-2 by D. W. Stevens 742 Near the Gallows; or, A Young Man’s Peril y R. T. Emmet 743 Dick Daunt the Diver; or, Down Among the Sponge-Cutters.......... by ace 3, Bradley 744 Across the Continent on Wings; 0 Reade, Jr.’s Greatest Flight.. a Sse 745 Lost In an Unknown Sat or, ventures oe a D. Montague hres Chips of Three Resor ho eg by Peter Pad 747 Dick Walton Among the So Peery y_W. I. James, Jr. | 99 ‘Tw. KO Yeates tS ec oe ee “Ni 755 Younis Sam’ Patch; its pe pon ie 756 Little Sack and His Twenty Boy Fire Hora Es Robert Lenox 757 Dick Spray; or, A Btowawas s_ Tri China Sees en eae see by J. eae 758 Barnum’ s Hunters; or, Trapping Wild Ani- how on Earth... .. Richa: 759 The caren Masks; eR The k ae ra ae 761 The Unlucky Miner; or, Th: ivals fetter nce Sas aby ei ae f 768 Sam Spry, the New York er; OF, Business Before Pleasure—comic......... 769 A Lost Boy; or, Homely Jack’s Lack, Fe , Homely Jack’s Luck....... ; 770 anes Black Rider. A Story of A Revela: . by. Morton — erils of by C. Te ttle Tare 775 The Trish Boy Monte Cristo e u by Corp. Morgan Rattler 776 A Cruise Among Pirates; or, The Blue- ” rds of the Sea../........2..... paw mulley 777 The Little Joker—comic......... by 778 Sey elt Sra or, The Sandal fandish LAbIng the rae Woosen hp sanetiecedne b fhe Arctic.ctccs 2 ia y of Dia- 784 Muldoon the Fireman.- eee tee or, The Secret Band. of Chi- eter’ CAL uedssnanee assoc ree et ee by Paul Braddon 787 The F Fire King; or, The enkes ay oa ree y R. his Fortune: 3. 32.020. s.< EA) Shackleford 790 Born to bea Sailor; or, Bab Dare’s ‘eon 792 Seve or, the Mystery of Ten Yea: by How art De Vere 793 Those Quiet Twins—comic........ by Peter Pad. 794 The Spams 8 Messenger; or, The Burning of MosOCOW sot pcitctetasen eee y R. T. Emmet. 795 A Soldier at 16; or, Fighting for os vain i Ce ee ere ELI de ae Ope Little. 796 SS of the Toil Gate; or, The coped With the Green Shades. . by Corp. Morgan Rattler 797 The } pier sowes Boys; or, Lifein a Yankee Sch by Percy B. St. ieee: 798 The Young Snow Trailers; or, ae Track the ga Moose Hunter.. Paul Bradstore 799 tei the Clown. A Story of “Ciretin Life Jand....... by Corporal pitas Rattler 300 On the ee ek erils in the by Albert J. Booth y 801 3, on re Spe ona ‘Bios le; or, A Race Across the Continent. . by C. Little | 802 Fearless Phil; or, “The Hero of ee mt Rift ‘aul Braddon 803 The Shortys’ Christmas niaékotecomicn by Peter Pad 804 Claim 4; or, The Hunchback of, pas Pocket foe co ine See ae Noname” 805 The Miser’s Son; or, In Search of Hiden Gold H. K. Shackleford y N. s Wood, (The ¥ oung ‘American Actor) 807 Bin the Bear; ae The Pranks of a Wild Bo: Corporal J “The Hidden idden Trish 808 The Haunted Beil Mystery ° Years on an Island os oN or ak Albert J. Booth ae 810 A Bootblack’s Luck........2......-. by C. Little $11 Around the World in a Balloon; or, Thou- sands of Miles Through the A xe ox y 812 The Fur Hunters of Winnipeg...-........ ‘Gy Paul Braddon $13 Six Weeks Under Ground......... by, Kit Clyde 814 The President’s Boy; or, The Hero of the White House..........- by H. K. Shackleford 815 The Electric Horse; or, Frank Reade, Jr., and His Father in Search of the Lost Fa Fe ms oe periaul dees! “ Noname 816 Lion ke, the Anim: ‘Amer. 6 oss 60 7: b Perey B. St. John ow! oe Or, The 817 ee the Corsair; or, e Mysterious Monarch of the Mediterranean............ by J. G. Bradley 818 Fearless Phil’s Chase.......... by Paul Braeden 819 The Ghost of the School-House..... by C. Li $20 The Young Avenger; or, The Knight of the. Silk an Brees -- by Percy B. St. Font Boy 8 aie aye Man- le . Tht bs See See en pe RLS by Press Pad 825 The Secret of the Tattooed oe Custer’s. Little = Scout of the I the Litt Bi; 827 Se ae $23 Kit Carson on’s Boy ‘Tra Boy ‘Trapper. pe Paul Braddon San ned Ben, the Boy iper.2 of the Revolu- 30 Paddy Miles’ Luck; or, The Trish OY. Miner Corp. Morgan Rattler $31 The Boy Fish; or, Little Dick the iG He $32 Ben the Bowsman; or, ‘Adventures in Tae Montezuma Swam C. Little Disevesscrecsess
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| . ; 7 | . ! 833 The Mastodon’s Cave; or, Two Wide Awake Boys in the Far West......00e.00- by Percy B. St. John 884 The Boy putaee Driver; or, ue Hero of Roc! by. Paul Braddon 835 ee Up; or, A New York athe 837 The Boy's es of the Sealed a na Sateen mee ** Noname - 838 Little Blondin, the Tight Rope Walker..... by C. Little 839 zrousN New: York to San Breerians ina Cata- Spade} cadvese tdeda Bee y John Sherman 840 A Proung Jay Gould; ‘or, A Bar Among the ..by iat Shackleford Up in the y R.T. Emmet $42 Jaak: Ready’ 's School ie 5 Eee Seaees by Peter Pad $43 The Ice-Boat 's; or, Cruising on exons ‘Waters in the Northwest......... C. Little 844 Aaalt Blind Joe; or, The Sharks s New by N S) Wood (The Young American Actor) 845 Young Ironclad, the Boy See eter ee 848 Bill isd the ey ler. A Story of a and and New York............. C. Little 849 Frank Rea Jr.’s Chase hough the UMS scewdnt see age iee nt ees Yoname’”’ 851 My Friend Smith........ b Tainot Baines Reed 852 The Boy Crusoes; or, The Young Casta- ways of the Pacific..by St. George Rathborne 853 Jerry the ame or, The ws er of the 854 hoy e Bound Boy; 7 Corpor Miles of Foes b oe Li 855 Frank Reade, Jr., and His Electric by “ Noname’? 856 The Shortys’ Christmas Snaps—comic...... 857 Two Waifs; or, Afloat in New York........ by N. S. Wood (The Young American pol 858 Fearless Phil in, Disguise; or, noe Ti TASER IGG ese. ei caw ese by Pa raddon 859 oor iegin ee in'New York; or; ae d to ake His Money....... by H. K. Shackleford 860 Bienmbost Billy; , The L Lesa Secret 861 The Bory lan Lion ‘Tamers; or, Adventures in _ 862 Out With Kit Carson. <A Story of the Early Days of Kansas........-...... by R. T. Emmet at at y Samson; or, Talking Care of f Him- 864 The Bo ; From } Per I ACE A ies is t. JO: 865 Smart & Co., the Boy ‘Baidlers—comie.. | one as e' 868 A Chicago Boy; or, Up From the Lowest. ai o) erman 867 ant Old DES HOY 5 or, pis Rass After Education Sous Sb coca awak Swelae ee aaaive ee Teaser 863 The Boy Telegra graph | pee or, The Mys- + tery of a Midnight Message..:..:......... fe by Cal pao Fenton 869 Dick cpa or, pe eStrange Adventures of a Young Yankee Sailor. .......-....2-. Sailor itten by Himself 870 eee the peers oie or, From Stowaway ee eee y Corporal Morgan Rattler ry ittle 873 ewer, d the Scénes; or, Out with a New ert AB Boy oy Amo on era ne ata te) 1e te pat ‘c- the Lash... tal Braddon est Soldier in Ravtti ber a ee by Ralph Morton 876 Pawnee Bill and the Oklahoma eee Rey Geo. Goode Sri Frank Reade, Jr's Search Yee Sunken Ship; or, Woking for the Borenigie. oa ““Noname” Feaittoad rae or, From Bs ident....... Col. Haiph Fenton 881 Joe og pers the Whaler; or, he ere for Tn) Dee Peo pees 5 PAR F by Peter Pad Fun—co 882 Lost on-the Atlantic....... by Howard De Vere 883 Sony guy Of, ee Giant Bs, the aver A Story of the Grea oy ‘Ralp Sh _ $84'The Boy Rovers; or, The ‘Adventures of » Two Plucky Boys.......----++-++- by C. Little His ky Boys A 891 The Soldier’s Son; or, The Secret of the House of Eight Pines. A Story.c of had Se Secu paar atcast homes es. tA . Little 892 Satin Sane the Young Western Sport. bs fi y Ben ul Braddon | 954 Our Future he Oak That 893 The Funny Four—comic........-- by Peter Pad Came From the Acorn—comic..by Peter Pad 894 The White Queen of the Aztecs; or, Two 955 an Crook’s Boy Guide; oF The Great Yankee Boys in Mexico...... by R. 1. Emmet dian Fighter’s Black Hills Trail........ 895 The Degen id Son; or, The Imp of the Vil- by lage—comic............-0+++--+- by Tom Teaser | 956 Three Yankee Boysin Africa; or, the Giants 896 The Boy Slave of the Galley; or, The Mys- © of the Congo........+...-- aaa Percy B. St. John tery of the Treasure Shi: Shira teee 957 The Rees eave g Out a Rail- y Percy B. St. John road in the In 897 A Bad Egg; or, Hard to Crack—comic..... by Tom Teaser 898 Two Years With a Pirate; or, Tet aoe oe Ship of the Gold Coast....... G. Bradley | 960 Fair-Weather Frank, the Dashing Sail 899 Muldoon’s Boarding ante meepeeees BOYS recat eder agate sent oa ed J.G. Breiley by Tom Teaser | 961 Eagle srs the Bord Hermit a, 6 Rockies. 900 The Boy Diamond ae or, The ot ang y Paul ee Monte Christo of New York....... by C. ttle BSNS rte, ox 901 Ikey; or, He Never Got eaten Beceves ‘0. 902 The Armorer’s Son; or, The Myste of the Tower of London’... ....s.6% y Draper caters 903 were porns or, Sharp, Smart & $a a ed A eH by Tom ‘Teaser Be 904 Dick atkwas: or, 2 hting for a Fortune poral Morgan Rattler a Boy Marine... 00.5.2... by Ro: 905 Tom Quick, the ‘Avonger hth the Delaware.. 967 Muldoon Rene eho Raa Ps y by R. 'T. Emmet | 968 as se ineer at 18; piss ot, The Bord poe of the 906 Sam Switch, the Boy BE OEE i Be i idee Needs be ce PAPEL R.T. Se ning at the Bottom........ LD ee bert 969 Hardpan Ha v5 or, A 907 Daring weXs the Diver; or, The Prince Boot Young New orkerAmong Wes rn Oat et Swimpderssctss ss We tev sen by C. Little janes RF An Pete ote yy ety Little 908 Sam; on “The Un anes ling— 970 The penty aie 3 or, Before. res Foot POMC ec oo. eka ee nas weaewe by Peter Pad li noe and Behind the Scenes..by N. 8. 909 x chet Van;_ or, Deadly “Grip and_ His 971 Muldoon’s Base Ball Club in Philadel iio Demon Band.............- .-by Paul'Braddon COMIC LA e yee aan ventesiiwep ex te TT te 910 Rsmaee New York Boy; or, From Poverty 972 The he Mystery. tO.Wealthy. cei ats. sscdees by John Sherman a 8s eres mc 91 Feretop Tom; or, A Yunizes Sailor Boy 973 Bee y Bieyele Scouts; or, Among the Mala; he ikea pay dats us G. Bradley we ae edskins........ 912 Bulger m, the Inventor—comic......... 974 Robi Rider, the Circus bifisaiaas vate SS ei Be Peter Pad Years Under the Canvas.. 913 Out in the Streets. A Story of h and 975 The hes Shorea Minstrels; pa Low Life in New York...........%-4..-0--- kets comic. by N. S. Wood (The Youn; American Actor) | 976 The Tunnel Under the Sea; pe, Adven- 914 The-Swamp Demon; or, For Two tures of Two Drowned Boy: a ‘by R.'T. Emmet CATH eeacetkcawieendectnecce y R. T. Emmet | 977 Pawnee Bill Doomed; or, reat Scout) 915 Denver Dan, Jr., the Stage ‘Biter: or, The in No Mans Lan ae RS 1 Dy. Paul Braddon ~~ Mys' of Golden Gulch...... “Noname” Ss 916 Muldoon's ‘Brother Dan:-comic. if Tom Teaser Plaindiesess lets scree vee vs 917 Buffalo Bill’s Boy Broncho Breaker; or, The Youngest Hero on the Plains.........+.... His Dad—comic.......0..s0eeeee+ by by Paul Braddon Treasure ee % The bao cr ey oo 918 A Sailor at Fifteen; wan ate ‘bin Boy to S setho\Gult.vivesscrscstacvset ess brs Captain. 0 oir. iie. eevee cee. by J. G.Bradley | 981 Alone on a OVeecks on, The toy — a 919 Henpecked comics 2 ae BA by Peter P: Scuttled Ship........J.....-.. bat 920 Homeless Hal; or, A Foot Bee 's Life in a 982 Dan Darling’s , Three 3" Tee Great City. ......+...- or The Will Dayto Vacation. . ....-by H. K. T Shackleford ary 921 Wild Bill's Boy Batgheet or, The Redsk pare 983 Muldoon’s Picnic—comic........ by Tom Teaser — Gold Secret.:....2...ce.e8ee. by Paul Braddon oat Luke Lines, the Boy Stage aghast or, The 922 Muldoon’s Christmas—comic.. .. by Tom Teaser Four-in- dof Keno Cam mer tee eos ual Braddon 923 Captain Jack, the Pirate’s Foe; or, The 985 pooree Jim, the Daring Ri vilfish of the Indies....by ue Starbuck Winning His Fortune in he Eaddle..:. sel's yes A Bad Boy at School—comic.......2.+. by “Ed” or et os Mr. McGinty—comic............ ‘om Teaser | 986 The paket ees or, The Robert 926 Lineman Joe, the Boy ‘Telegtaph “Climber Hidd: irlpool......... by. 8 C. Little | 987" pel a ack poet or, Hae He Made apock op pe i PN ea or, The Lite of 4 una- MMOnGy: bodactepstcew sees by H. K. Shack PF BOW ste aPec asst taeeess by J. G. . Bradley or, 928 Searching. for Stanley; or, ‘Tom Stevens’ Ad- ventures in CB As tesdtion . Emmet 929 Boarding School; or, Sam Bowser at Work _ | 990 Muldoon the Cop, Part I1.—comic.......... and Play—comic. ...../....-..+5: by Peter Pad 930 Soups Maxic; or, The Boy With a Charm- 991 en Boy Wrecker; or, The Youtig Pilotof =~ CA TAG, Mie te ce dawiveessess by. Az Braddon e Breakers.......-....%5 by Roger Starbuck — 931 Muldoon Out West—comic....-.. Tom Teaser | 992 dad to be eich or, A Bo ‘s Adventuresin ; 982 The Boy Treasure Hunters; a $ hing Wall Street.) 2.2 3...0.... K. Shac! Shackleford , for Last Money.. SAS by John Sherman | 993 Frank Romie, Jr., and se piace Naeare 933 Fagan Muldoon—comic...:... by Tom Teaser the Clouds—Part I.. -b mame ”” 934 Sam Johnson, the Negro Detec ive Beets 991 Frank Reade Jr., and I fee ee 935 Frank Reade, Jr.,in the Far Wests or, Search for a Lost Gold Mine. by eNonatie A Million 836 The Waif of Mystery island; or. peden Ad- 996 Little Tk my Bounce on His Travels— : ventures of a o Was Kidn sa ci COMIC! fio. nce lace eWseetees vee cen by Peter Pad © by Ro: tarbuck | 997 The Little Black Rover: or, The Mysterious 3: 937 The Mystery of the Sealed Tiocone or, The Privateer of plows wore Bays teeeceees Oldest House in New York...by R. T. Emmet 983 aes No. 7; or, The Pirates of 6 Mich- Pete ri erkt te by Geo. W. Goode 939 oon wr Landlord; or, rate in French Flats— TG h phir cn Veen stake idee by reer Pad News) rv F Wesesecsucecwsccscesestes DEN S Wood (The Young American Actor)| Abroad...-...s--s:20ss+as- ton 92 The Boy Ex ighting | 1002 Jack and Jim: or, ict eld Setapen re. epee po RE Stage School—comic.....2........5 ..by coe toe ee 3 Next Door; or, ore trish 1003 Little Quick ee or, Buffalo Bill’s Wild ou Thi Limbless H: Si tt ae 1004 The Mysterio t Light Shi bY tno S ; or, Si C} ous t mm ‘. minis ha 6 Piso by Roger Starbuck lers of the Death’ tas by Roser Stat Mi Cm 's Masked 1005 Muldoon’s Grocery so tore—comic. y R. T. Emmet a Tom 1006 Muldoon’ 8 Grocery Stotesoomtiod Part Il. byte Teaser 1007 Frank Reade, Jr., and His Moni of the © Air; or, Helping a Friend in Need--...... by.“*Noname 1008 Gerald O’Grady’s Grit; or, ‘The Branded Tad tutte by Creer Morgen Ratticn 1009 Dene Dan. mie the sil Silver The seeee 950 Tir ‘op T. the Yo Secthonme or, Richest, Nevada. 2...., “he * neat the Mast. by J. G. G. Bradley | 1010 Six Weeks in n the Saddle; oF, {951 Mrs, Boarding House-como : ead ft a Boys’ s' Riding
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1011 The Traveling Dude; or, The Comical Ad- ae of Clarence Fitz Roy Jones— LSD Le rE epee wis by Tom Teaser 1012 Black k Brow, eile Pirate; or, The Cruiser of Dedtateateat by Roger Starbuck 1013 The Vantaa. Yacht Club; or, Around the World by Water..........2.. by Geo. G. Small 1014 Frank Reade, Jr., loring a mves of Mystery. A Sirahee Story at age of Afri sony vt 1015 Muldoon’s Trip Around the World—comic, Partyl ere eier se iatases Tom Teaser 1016 Ase 's Trip Around the World—comic. id Se ai tert by Tom Teaser 1017 Flat ‘Boat Fred; or, The Young Swamp unter of Louisiana.. .by H. K. Shacklotord 1018 Among the Sun W orsbipers; or, Two New oys in Peru........ by Berton Bertrew 1019 Jack Magic, the Boy Wonder; ots The Smartest on the Stage............ Auf C. Little 1920 Frank Reade, Jr., and His Elec Air = ae or, The Great ste ,Among aga eraavessoe Gs ““Noname” 1022 The Wonder « d wall ‘iteot or, A Boy ed the Bulls and Bears............... by H. K. Shackleford a e Unknown............s0.5 by Paul Braddon en The ¢ oe Adventures of Two Dudes— Bory Neem es Php oe oe b Pgs Teaser 1025 Cast st Adrift; or, One Year on 9 1026 The Rival Boat Clubs; aes the! he School , at Beachwood............ Howard Be Vere : 1027 The Demon yd or, tye Doomed Boys o% of the Gun-Shr By BT ess by Roger Starbuck 1028 fare ay Sitting Bull; or, the Siege of a Da- chool-House........... by Paul Braddon x 1029 Bop Bright; or, A Boy a imines and Fun ¥ —comic. Part I....../...2...: by Tom Teaser 1030 Bob led ee, or, A Boy of iiusines and Fun ’ Part-I ssid.5 522k by Tom Teaser 1031 tends Bill’s Shadow; or, Mey Lillie, the ‘THB GREAT 5 CRNT WIDR AWAKE LIBRARY. Latest Issues: 1057 Dandy Dan of Deadwood....... “Noname” 1058 Twenty Years on An Island; aa ee of a Young Castaway............ lyde 1059 rae) despa 's Boy; or, The Worst in Town aha n ben temceteee dad teane by Peter Pad 1060 The. Phantons Light-House; or, The Mys- tery of the Storm-Coast. by er Starbuck 1061 Dandy Dan of Deadwood, en e Fres) Front BYi800 {02-2 xo* oe uis—comic.......... by Tom Teaser 1085 the Mtoe of Mystery; or, fothey by a Car- Pa ed Are ae oa y Paul Braddon er Pigeo 1086. Steadfast & Sid, the Boy Who Noe Surren- dered; or, Standing Up for a Square D: 1087 Dick Darin, e Bo; eas W or, The Trail of the Des Death De : 1089 Dand Dan of Tea eee Seis lesasn ge naren settee. =a None 1090 ees Dick Plunket; or, The and Tribulations of Ebenezer Crow—comic.... - Sam 1091 old Oak Burrell, the Nee by Paul Braddon 1092 Among the Amazons. A Thrilling Story of the Interior of Africa...... by R. T. Emmet 1093 aoe Shige “ Den; zone The Wreck oS : e Menagerie Ship........ Roger Starbuc: 1094 Te or, m ihe! Pavement tes [yi 8 BE Epes Seen “ Noname” 1097 Heb aes the Life Serer. or, The ones Wreckers of the Bah: i Roger Starbuck ope “perch eet Seymour, the Mites Cock of ; itso Dandy Dar ot Deadwood Betrayed; er, The Vultures of Montana.......... by “ Noname” 1100 The pe k Fiend of the Red Sea; or, The Girl of the Se Sere re aaa 110. Muldoon’s Hotel. Part eI—ong x ripe h y Tom Teaser All the above libraries are for sale ee ne woeeaiet in the United States and Canada, or = to your pees: pone vat on receipt 1102 Muldoon’s Hotel. Part I.—comic........ by Tom Teaser Rae 1103 J Dan_of Deadwood in ‘Texas; or, ilver Moon Mystery boots by “ Noname” 1104 Ferg 8 of the Flail; or, penta For Land Biferte se: by C ral Morgan Rattler 1105 Pawnee Bill’s Boys; a he Young Boom 4 ers of Oklahoma............. by Paul Braddon he “The Boy Scout...... 00. 3.22+.--.: by N.S. Wood 07 Muldoon in Ireland; or, The Solid Man on the pia Sod secede wecaaa see en by Tom Teaser 1108 Frank Reade, Jr., With His Air-Ship in Asia; or, A Flight Across the Seat Yoname ” 1109 eh es as! oe Ship; or, © Kignipped For DYAGE ESE G. Bradley oy, Lieut. E. a Kellogg be 1111 Buffalo Bill, Jr., and His Band of Dead Shoten yer okentaes soos meen by Allyn ep 1112 The Ship of Silence; or, The Terrible League of the Black Sword al cb to Adc P ; y Roger Starbue es 1113 Fred Frost, the Young Arctic Explorer; - or, Bound to Reach the } Nort ee Booth rt J. Boo’ lis Beapeck Bob; or, From Hees to aor BEAN era oe eg ce eee ee C} 1115 Afloat in a Cannibal Ship; or, they Fated War-Sloop of the Ladrones. . irk ee Pave oger Starbuc 1116 THe Boy. Firemen; or, Stand by th he Ma- Be SAH AS pee by Howard De Vere 1117 The ‘Youn Diamond Seekers; or, Rough- ing it in the Carolina Mountains. yR. ‘T. Emmet 1118 The Youn sy an Winkle. B iat Arnold 1119 The Lost Gold Raft; or, A Perilous Cruise For a Floating Treasure. . by Roger Starbuck 1120 Hi Swift and Spry; or, pare Jolly Ped lers—comic Ra eNeak cite e Sats by.Sam Smiley ” 121 pee ene: or, The /Pioneer’s Sn ee Pare Trp by T. W. Hanshew ee 1122 Dick eadline, the Young Revenue Cap- ; tain; or, The Pirate of the Gun-Brig...... gees. by Roger Starbuck 1123 Young je ed ar, The Treasure ’ Trove of F: m Key........ ents by C. Little 1124 Hook and eaader No. 2...by Howard De Vere 1125 Sam Sureshot, shes Skeleton Marine; or, ; The Lost Frigate of the vrei Isles, /.25,. ee 1126 Billy Button, the pone. Clown and Bare- back Rider. A Sarr of the Circus....... vere E. H. Kellogg 1127 The Orphans of New York. A Pathetic Be of a Great City.........0...0.. 0.0008 . S. Wood (The Young American Actor) 1128 Young RS eITy> = Hero of 1812, An ivateer Yarn.by George G. Small 1129 Among 6 Fire-W orshipers; se Two New ys in Mexico...... by Berton Bertrew 1130 The Actor’s Son. <A Story ee Trials and Triumphs On and Off the Stage........... 1131 pes Ocean Wolf. A Story of Ha TR I1SIS ee ee by G e G. Small y T. W. 1133 Bound Boy Ben; or, ‘Sold Into Slavery Little 1134 Frank Reade, Jr.’s Electric Ice Boats or, rs Lost in the Land of Crimson Snow. Part ie bE ee or ape re eer ae by ‘:Noname” LS. 1135 Frank Reade, Jr.’s Electric Ice Thats? or, Lost in the Land of Crimson Snow, Part | RSG Ba I aes by “‘Noname” 1136 Punks Reade, Jr.’s Electric Cyclone; or, — ; Su Adventures in 3 Man’s Lan ‘ 1139 Red Light Dick, the Re etneee eines me by Albert °s. ee 1140 Adrift in the Tree-Tops.....-: La Allyn Draper 1141 Lost in radon ai od The Search for a 1 ate eae, Ray ay es e ry of he Hudson Dt one. oe ae Haymond. 1143 In the Sea of Ice.........-.. 1144 The Young atheey sistance 1145 Ramsey 2 Bob; of, The Pri e of the Ji 1146 Adrift in a Haunted Lake; or, The Mys- eS of a Lost War Ship. -by Power Starbuck
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gfes-Ti The Fannicst Stories Ever Written ARE PUBLISHED WEEKLY IN The 5 Cent Comic Library. ISSUED EVERY SATURDAY. Ask Your Newsdealer to Save You a Copy Every Week. THE FOLLOWING STORIES HAVE ALREADY BEEN PUBLISHED: 1, Two eee of New York; or, The Funny oe of ee 5. Mama's Pet; or, Always In It, : by Sam Smiley easer 6. Tommy Bounce the Family Mischief. by Peter Pad s k hi ? > ~ nace ee y Ji, ay Bases Chicago ; a Nothing vs Soe eles 7. Dick Quack, the Doctor's Boy ; or, A Hard Pill ie Swallow, Gyicabos ic J oe; or, Not a Bit Like His Uncle, by stony Teaser by Tom Teaser Shorty ; or, Kicked Into Good Luck, ry Peter Pad 8. Shorty in Luck, by Peter Pad WONDEPRREUL STORIES ABOUT PRAVK READE, JR., THE GREAT INVENTOR, Are Published Weekly in the | 3 Price 5 Cents. ~~ ~ Issued Every Sateen bs YOU CAN BUY A COPY AT ANY NEWSDEALER’S. : THE FOLLOWING STORIES HAVE ALREADY BEEN PUBLISHED: 1, Eek aye fe ae ee wee Man; or, he LOUnEae « 7, Frank Reade, Jr., and His New Steam Horse; or, The ventor's Tri e Far We $ 2, Frank Reade, Jr., With His New Sian Man in No Man's oF Search se ts Million Dollars. A Story of wes arcs ce ae Land; or, On a Mysterious Trail, by ““Noname” New Mexico, by.“ Noname 3. eke has Jr., With His New Steam Man in woerres 8. Frank Reade, Jr., With His New Steam Horse Among the Be a *““ Noname” Cowboys; or, the League of the Plains, by ‘‘Noname” eee 4. Brunk Reade, Jr, With His No ow; Bice ean Tose ee soe! 9. Frank Reade, Jr., With His New Steam Horse in the Great 5. Frank Reade, Jr., With His New Steam Man in Mexico; or, American Desert; or, The Sandy “[rail of Death, Hot Work Among the Greasers. by “ Noname” by ““Noname” 6, Frank Reade, Jr., With His Nake *Steam Man Chasing a Gang of “ Rustlers ;” or, Wild Adventures in ee Noneme” “ Noname” 10, Frank Reade, Jr., With His New Steam Horse and the Mys- tery of the Underground Ranch, by “‘Noname” Seen ee The Greatest Detective Stories Ever Written ARE PUBLISHED WEEKLY IN ‘THE ys YOUNG SLEUTH LIBRARY. — Price 5 Cents. Issued Every Saturday. YOUR NEWSDEALER HAS A FULL SUPPLY. The Following Have Already Been Published: 1. Young Sleuth; or, The Inspector's ene Hand Man. 5. Young Sleuth’s Best Bargain; or, $20,000 for One Night’s Work. 2, Young Sleuth in Chinatown; or, The Mystery of an Opium Den. 6. Young Sleuth’s Right Trail; or, ‘The Slums of New Yor ‘ 3. ones Sleuth on the Rail; or, Working Against the Train Rob- tf owns: Eee eg ind the Scenes; or, The Keen Detective’s Great eater f 4, Young Sleuth and the Beautiful Actress; or, The Diamond | 8. Young Sleuth and the Widow in Black; or, Tracking a Child ~ Thieves of New York. _ Stealer of New York. j eae ae the above libraries are for sale by all newsdealers in the United States and Canada, or sent to your address, post paid, on receipt aC rice by ~ Box 2780. FRANK TOUSEY, Publisher, 34 & 36 Nor au Street, New York,