/ “ You take the watch until after mid— _- night, and then I’ll relieve you. 7 “ The two prisoners have got to fight 1 where I can see them, and the couple of extra guns you have I will keep near me. “Now get your positions, men, and when I call you wake up for hot work.” -Half an hour after the camp was in deep repose. CHAPTER XXXVII. WHAT BUFFALO BILL SAW. The men laid down upon their blanket beds with a full and stem realization of what wa before them. I They knew that it might be their last , night of life; but they had confidence in Buffalo Bill, and accepted the alternative with the calmness of brave men, such as they were. The hard breathing of the Red Buffalo soon told that he would not give them any trouble. , Nugget Ned did not appear to sleep, . for he seemed to have much on his mind; ' but Hercules slept snoringly and well. Captain Benson was on duty through _ the night until two o’clock, for he knew 1 how very tired the scout must be and ,would not call him. “ Buffalo Bill was awake the instant he heard his name in a low tone, and at once 1; realized the hour, and that he had been f ‘ allowed to sleep more than an hour over his time. , “You should have called me sooner. “ Take my blankets and turn in, for I will K call you in good time. Heard or seen I' anything?” “ Nothing,” and the tired captain ‘ turned in and was at once asleep. ‘ Buffalo Bill observed that Red Buffalo - was still under the influence of the mor- phine, and Hercules Dan was sleeping as though he, too, had imbibed a narcotic. “ The third prisoner, Nugget Ned, he : found awake, and said: "‘Can't sleep, eh, from fear they may a surprise us? ” ‘3 “ What I do is none of your business, _Buffalo Bill.” I _. “ What you have done is, however. Yes, and if you raise your voice again, , ~' so that those Indians may know we are 97* on the watch, you will be the first man _ in this camp that dies. v_ “They may be your friends—probably . are, if you are a renegade; but you Will find that you cannot betray us." The man appeared cowed by the scout’s .words, as though his intention had been discovered, and said: “ Whatever you may think me, I am not a renegade, Buffalo Bill.” “ I may wrong you; but a man who is an assassin will do any act of crime; but I have warned you,” and Buffalo Bill went the rounds of the camp. He found the men all sleeping, the horses were all right, and all was as quiet as death, save the yelp of a coyote now and then that scented the two un- buried bodies in the camp. Then Buffalo Bill went to the edge of the timber and began to peer out over the plain. The camp-fire had died down, so all was dark in the timber, but out on the plain all was light, for the moon rode in :“ia cloudless sky. i The keen eyes of the scout searched the plain thoroughly, and rested upon a “- dark object a quarter of a mile away. , ,_ “ There was no rock there I remem- ber,” he muttered, and he raised his field ',,glass to his eyes. “ Yes, there they are, and the captain did not notice them, as they are moving in a mass, and very slowly.” , The object he gazed upon, by close watching, he saw was moving, but the w-._.m--. ..... ..... ...., .. mm...” .. 4.. 'tected by the closest observation. The Indians were grouped together, and step by step they came forward, intend- .ing to give the idea that they were a ‘ ,slight rise in the ground. “ They wish to get close up by dawn, and then come with a rush. Their plan is all right, but it may miscarry. I will take another tour of the camp, and see if there are more coming through the timber, though I believe not. Then I will awaken the men and get ready to surprise those fellows.” ‘~ With another glance at the moving ’. mass on the plain, he returned to the camp and found all quiet there. Nugget Ned was either asleep now or feigning to be. Passing on into the timber beyond the immediate camp, Buffalo Bill saw several coyotes suddenly scamper away a hun-‘ dred yards distant. He had not frightened them, he knew, but who had? x “ They are coming by way of the tim- '1 her, after all. We will have to fight be- tween two flres,” he mused. He then passed on further into the .; timber and took refuge behind a large ‘ . tree. ‘ Then he waited for a moment and then he saw a form coming noiselesst toward him. . Nearer it came, until the moonlight fell ' full upon the tall form and bearded face ' of one whom he knew must be none " other than the Wandering Jew. [To be continued—Commenced in No. 690.] Baumgartner-5 Dog. “Dot Baumgartner vas der piggest . ' foolishness dot I efer vas," said Blenker of Canajoharie, as he came down street laughing. “ Why so?” I asked. . “Baumgartner keeps a liffery shtable «f undt a pull dog to take care fon dose horses und carritches in der nighd; so he cuts a hole der parn in so dot dog can .1 go in and owet all der vhile. Vell, der negst day vhen der parn door vas oben he seen dot it cofers dot dog hole, ain’d v- it? Oxectly. Se he goes undt gits dot ‘ carpenter undt cuts anudder hole pe- sides. See? "Vell, his sohn Shake comes aroundt undt ask apoud dot extra hole what he make, undt de oldt man shows Shake ' how vhen der door is oben it cofers up dot hole. Py cracious! den Shake he get madt undt shwear undt say: “Couldn’t dot plame dog go in undt owet der door vhen it vas oben already?’ Py chim- lnetty! old Baumgartner feel so sheap ~dot he could go in undt owet dog-hole himselluf.” . ‘ _ Quick-Shots Trail Notes. BY JIM KEYS, (“QUICK—SHOT JIM.") Bears and Bears. Returning from that rousting out of tough Old Eph (as narated in the last week’s paper) we were very weary, and hungry enough to eat our moccasins, and of course expected to have a warm welcome by Sagebrush Bill, with a big pile of grub smoking hot for us. But as we reached the edge of the little park in which the camp was made, we could see that no Bill was there—that the camp was, in fact, without a tenant! “ Who—o-o—pee S-a-a-gebrushl ” “ —o-o-pee—a—agebrush! ” answered the pine timber, but that was all. Not even the friendly bark of the dogs was there to greet us. Wondering what was up, we hurried on into camp. An exclamation of surprise escaped from the foremost man in the party; for right beside the'wagon lay the mangled carcasses of the two dogs. Lighting a sliver of pitch pine, we soon unraveled the mystery. “ A grizzly, by thunder!” says I, and plain enough it was, too. The English- man, who had brought the two fine bear dogs from India, ripped out an oath, and swore he would kill every grizzly in the Big Horn Mountains. Both dogs were mangled almost out of recognition. Evi- dently they had been struck down by the bear’s powerful paw while tied to the wagon-wheel and powerless to get out of the way, after which they had been bitten and clawed almost to shreds. But what had become of Sagebrush? We yelled and fired guns, but could get no response. ‘ At length one of the Englishmen found a piece of brown paper pinned to the wagon cover, and on it Sagebrush had written with a burnt stick: “Gon’ fur the b’ar thet kilt the dogs.” That was all there was; there was nothing to indi- cate 'which way he had gone or anything more about it. , The moon would be rising about 10 o’clock, and as nothing could be done till then, we took a smile of old Bour— bon apiece, and turned our attention to cooking bear-steaks. At moonrise we shouldered our Win- chesters and struck out. No trail was vis- ible on the hard surface of the moun- tain-path, so we divided'up and made tracks in difierent directions. My com- panion was the Anglo-Indian officer, the owner of the dogs. ‘We tramped on and on for about three miles, stopping every now and then to shout and fire and listen. Finally we heard a distant yell in reply. Hurrying along in the'direction of the shout, we movement was so slow it was only de-' soon had the satisfaction of recognizing Sagebrush’s voice. As soon as we got near enough to understand what he was saying, we moved forward with extreme caution. Shouting at the top of his voice, he told us that he was treed by a whole herd of grizzlies, and had parted company with his Winchester. “ Be mighty care- ful!” he shouted. “ They’re getting all worked up over hearing you yell and fire. Crawl up as near as you safely can, and then take to the trees with your guns.” The timber thereabout was not over thick, and we dodged from tree to tree as noiselessly as possible, gradually creeping up in the direction of Sage— brush’s voice. We had moved up to with- in about 150 yards of his tree, when he yelled out that several of the grizzlies were moving off in our direction. I was just boosting the Englishman up into the nearest tree, when the foremost bear came scurrying through a patch of moonshine among the shadowy pines, not more than thirty paces away. There was a likely-looking tree about twenty yards further back, and to the best of my recollection, I reached that’tree in about three jumps. I could hear the pine- needles crackle as the big grizzly came charging after me, and the crackling seemed mighty close to my own heels. I shinned up that tree so quick that I made the bark fly. Quick as I was, however, I wasn’t a moment too lively, for the hear was underneath the tree, looking up with that longing expression peculiar to a grizzly when he has treed anything, and particularly a man. I had not yet reached a secure roosting-place, and as the big fellow reared up and whooped and thrust his paw to within a. couple of yards of where my feet were resting on a trifling snag, I don’t mind owning up to feeling a bit queer, varied as my experience had been with bears. Tucking myself up a yard or two high- er, I got astride of a big, strong branch and turned around to take in the situa- tion. By this time four bears had ar— rived on the scene, and Sagebrush was calling out to inquire if we were both safe. After replying that We were all right, I turned my attention to the Eng- lishman. Fortunately for him, the space between his tree and mine was quite clear. In the hurry to get him up off the ground, he had sprung to the nearest tree 'after Sagebrush called out, and it turned out to be the poorest kind of a retreat. After the first six feet from the ground'numer- ous snags made it easy enough to scale; but a few feet higher up and it ended in such a bushy mass of little branches that it was impossible for him to climb well out of danger. No more uncomfortable position could be very well imagined than the one he found himself in when arrested by the scrubby branches. Had we been dealing with an attacking party of brown bears or silver-tips he would have been nabbed in less than a minute after the bears reached the foot of his tree. Fortunately for him, grizzlies have little or no notion of climbing trees. As it was, however, when the biggest of them stretched up after him the margin of safety between his feet and the grizzly’s eager claws might have been measured by inches. The moon was about half-waned, and wasn’t bright enough for me to see ex- actly how things were with him; but all of a sudden he sung out: “ For God’s sake, Hank, use your Winchester if you can. I’m in a devil of a trap; they’re climbing the tree! ” Sure enough, one determined old cuss was making a clumsy attempt to hoist himself up by clinging to the snags above. He was grunting horribly, in eager anticipation of reaching his vic- tim, who was all but within his grasp. The noise he was making seemed to in- spire the others with the belief that their prey was about to be seized, and they were all crowding about the English- man’s tree, reaching up and whining savagely and licking their chops. I shud- dered at the prospect of his fate, should they be able to reach and drag him down, or should he lose his nerve. Drawing a bead on the varmint that 'Was trying to climb the tree, my Win- chester barked. The light was uncertain, but the distance was short, and I was mightily relieved to see him topple over and take to flopping and thrashing around on the ground. In.his fury at the sharp twinge of the bullet, he tackled one of the other bears, and for a min— ute or two we witnessed a scrimmage that was away ahead of any circus for a real live show. For the time being the other three bears seemed to forget us; they shuflled around the combatants, walked backward, stood on their hind feet, whined and snarled, and otherwise betrayed great excitement. It isn’t very often that bears get to fighting among themselves; they are generally as peace- ful as so many kittens. When they do get at it, however, they are pretty sa‘v- age, and the wounded grizzly and his an- tagonist fought and rolled and roared and kicked up such a racket that Sage- brush shouted out, wanting to know what the deuce was up; and two other bears deserted their vigil under his tree, and came lumbering over to the scene of the conflict. “I guess I’m all right now, Hank!" sung out the Englishman at this stage of the circus. “I’ve found a snag that I can sit down on after a fashion and draw my feet up higher. I couldn’t use my gun before "—bang! He seemed eager to show that he was in position to use it now, anyhow; and to some purpose, for, at the crack of his Winchester, round and round spun-another grizzly, roaring and biting where he had been struck. “ Let ’em have it, Hank; we’ll have the whole blawsted herd a-fighting and tear— ing one another to pieces in a minute.” Bang! went my own Winchester in reply; and bang! again went his own. Another bear was made fighting mad with a bul- let, perhaps two, in his carcass, and began snarling and thrashing around among the others. The din of battling bears, the fighting, cufiing, snarling, and roaring was mak- ing the pine woods ring, and yet another one came hurrying across from Sage- brush’s direction. We were now looking down upon a herd of seven grizzlies, the biggest bunch I ever saw together up in the mountains, although I have seen a heap bigger parties down along the creeks in the berrying season. The beau- ty of it was that they were pretty nearly all fighting; it was the prettiest fight I remember, barring a fight I once saw in broad daylight between a big silver tip and a couple of mountain lions. If it had only been daylight I believe the big bear- fight under our trees would have beat even that for a good square show. As the last bear came and joined the crowd, Sagebrush called out to say that every mother’s son of a grizzly had fore— saken his tree, and asked us to hold them while he climbed down to pick up his gun. It was not at all difficult to grant this request, for the bears seemed to have no idea of running away yet, although three of them were wounded and making things mighty uncomfort- able for the other four. We worked the Winehesters merrily among them for the next few minutes, making more havoc and starting more fights. Ten minutes after I started the ball a—rolling by knocking over the old fellow that was trying to,climb the tree, there wasn’t a bear left with an un- punctured hide in the whole herd, and they were fighting together like a school of Kilkenny cats. It was a weird, sav- age scene, in among the mottled moon- light and shadows, seven grizzly bears, maddened by bullet-wounds, roaring and wrestling and clawing and biting. The Britishers allowed afterward that it was pandemonium broke loose, or something like that. Whatever a pandemonium is, it would have to break loose pretty wild to equal the circus beneath our trees, for there are no savager brutes going than your grizzlies, when once they get mad enough to fight among themselves. While they fought and thrashed around, we kept peppering away at them; but for a while our shots seemed to have no other effect upon them than to stir them up and make the wild saturnalia wilder than before. How we wished it was daylight; what a picture those mad grizzlies would have made, wrest- ling and tearing one another, had it only been lighter! But the bullets and their own fighting began to tell pretty soon, even on griz- zlies. First one rolled over and stretched out, then another sat down on his haunches and drooped his head, and finally sprawled out; a third moseyed off some distance to sit down and lick his wounds, and a fourth began spinning round and round like a crazy thing, whining and moaning. They were get- ting pretty weak with loss of blood, and tired of fighting. We still dosed them with lead, and at length four of the seven lay stretched out on the field, and the other three had moseyed off, most likely to die of their wounds, for every one of them must have been badly hit. We stayed up in the tree till broad daylight, not thinking it prudent to trust ourselves on the ground before, with three dangerously wounded grizzlies roaming around the immediate neighbor— hood, besides the possibility of ’possum- ing among those stretched out below. We had given them such a trouncing that if one of the survivors had ever got his paw on one of us, he would have made it interesting. ~ On the way home Sagebrush told us his part of the story. There wasn’t much to it. He had strolled away from camp for an hour to try and round up a black- tailed deer for supper. He came back just in time to see a big grizzly making tracks from the wagon with a fiitch of breakfast bacon. Sagebrush fired at it, but at 300 yards, and didn’t know wheth- er he hit it or not. Anyhow, the bear dropped the bacon and bolted. Reaching the wagon, he found the poor dogs dead and mangled, just as we found them. Sagebrush, of course, gave chase to the culprit, following its trail to the place where we found him. Here he stumbled unexpectedly upon a small herd of griz- zlies, relatives, probably, of the one he was after. Without wasting any time on preliminaries, they took after him and chased him up the tree. In shinning up the tree he dropped his Winchester, and was therefore helpless. When we found him he had been treed about eight hours. The Cyclone from Salt River. By C. S. CHASE. He was an untamed and ferocious- looking specimen of Rocky Mountain manhood, clad in a dirty red woolen shirt, greasy buckskin pantaloons from which one leg had been torn uncere- moniously off at the knee, while his long mass of grizzly, unkempt hair was partially covered with what had once been the exterior of a respectable musk- rat, but which was now rent in a man- ner that allowed the aforesaid hair to protrude through it in all directions. In fact, he was an exceedingly tough— looking citizen—a regular terror all within himself. Prancing into a Denver saloon he glared savagely around upon the group of quiet customers seated therein, and then proceeded to execute a war-dance in the middle of the room. “Oh! ye sap-headed galoots!” he howled. “Step up yere till I show ye a new consterlashun o’ ther heavens. Whoop! I’m ther Baldheaded Cyclone frum Salt River, I am, an’ I’m hungry fer a little exercise. Just some 0’ you white-livered scavengers come up an" tickle ther lion’s fang, ef you want some fun.” But no one present seemed inclined to accept the stranger’s proposition, and, after pausing for a moment to take breath, the “ Baldheaded Cyclone” went through the mazes of another Apache war—dance, ending by kicking over a few chairs and a small table that stood at one side of the room. ‘ “Whoop! Yow-yow!” he cried. “Ef, any 0’ you wobble-j’inted pilgrims want a leetle limberin’ up 0’ ther system, jest waltz out yere, fer I’m a gigantic yearth- quake wi’ a tin hat on.” , “Looks to me more like soiled rat- skin than tin,” ventured one of the crowd with a chuckle. “Oh! yow—whoop! Wot cross—legged son 0’ a baboon war that as dared ter hint that this here head-kiver ar’ rat- hide? ” howled the giant in rage, seizing his torn head—dress and holding it out at arm’s length. “Ary galoot as dares ter say that that ’ar cap ain‘t ther genuine two-year ole seal, right frum Iner ice-bergs o’ ther Feejee Islands, Ill eat him, body an’ boots.” No one apparently cared to dispute this statement, and after viewing the situation for a moment, the tough skipped up to the bar and brought his huge fist down upon it with a resound- ing thump. “Here, you!” he roared to, the bar- keeper, “jest trot out yer p’isen fer this whole gang, an’ no hesitatin’ erbout it, either! Sneak up yere, ye faint-hearted pilgrims, an’ drink ter ther etarnal pros- perity o’ ther Baldheaded Cyclone frum Salt River.” The barkeeper reluctantly obeyed the command, and the crowd, nothing 10th, ranged themselves along the bar, and at a signal from the bully, “ downed ” their liquid with a gulp. Somewhat cheered by the dose of “tanglefoot” within him, the Cyclone from Salt River kicked over a table laden with bottles and glasses, and then proceeded to execute another war-dance around the wreck. “Whoop! ye benighted pilgrims,” he howled. “Follow around in my wake and gather up the fragments,” and then, for the first time, spying a rather effem- inate—looking man who was seated at a small table at the, further end of the room, quietly eating a lunch and wash- ing it down with a bottle of ale, the Cyclone pranced airily across the room and gave the table a‘smart kick. The stranger did not change his posi— tion, but simply reached forward and grasped the edges of the table firmly, and the vigorous kick failed to have any effect thereon. \Vith a roar of rage the bully “hauled off” to give it a second kick with his huge boot, but hesitated, as he suddenly found a pair of cocked revolvers looking into his face from across the table. “ Now, sir, you want to let up on this biz at once,” uttered the little man, in a cold, even tone. “You’ve been whoop- in’ around here some little time, and, as you’ve tackled me for a bit of fun, I guess I can give it to you; so, first, just git down on your knees right where you are, or I’ll drill a hole through you, big- ger’n a rattlesnake.” The Cyclone from Salt River glared into the eyes that looked over those deadly tubes, and understood that he had run afoul of one of those individuals frequently met with upon the border— a dangerous man; and realizing that it would be death to refuse, he dropped upon his knees as requested. “Now, then, repeat a few words after me, and mind, speak every word dis- tinctly, so that all can hear, or out goes your light!” cried the little man, sternly. “ All right—hope ter turn inter a Digger squaw ef I don’t," protested the erstwhile thirster after gore. “I, B. H. Cyclone, coward and bum, horse-thief and gopher-eater, do, here before these gents, confess that I am a big bag of wind with a white feather hitched to it, and humbly beg you to spare my craven’s life, and allow me to sneak away.” . The tough groaned and wriggled, but repeated the words in the following manner: “I, B. H. Cyclone, coward an’ bum, hoes-thief an’ (oh, Lordy!) gopher-eater, do, before these here galoots, cunfess thet I ar’ a big bag 0’ wind wi’ a (oh! suff’rin’ centipedes!) white feather hitched onter it, an’ (crawlin’ cata- 'mounts!) I humbly beg ye ter- spar’ my caravan life an’ erlow me ter (oh, cracky!) sneak away,” and the bully ended with a deep groan. “Now, git up and skip! ” commanded the little man, wickedly, “and tell your aunt that you had to take water from a man not half your size.” The Cyclone from Salt River arose, as meek as a lamb. “ Yas, stranger,” he said, “ I’ll skip at 'onc’t, but I’d like ter know w’ot yer handle sounds like.” “I’m Buckskin Sam, and I hail from Texas,” replied' the little man, and, as he uttered the name, the bully shot out of the‘door as if Satan was in hot pur- suit. DIALOGUES, Dramas and Recitations FOR School Exhibitions and L Parlor Theatricals. Bunu AND ADAMS have now on their list the following highly desirable and attractive text- books, prepared expressly for schools. families, etc. Each volume contains 100 large pages, printed from clear, open type, comprising the best collection of Dialogues, Dramas and Recitations, (burlesque, comic and otherwise.) The Dime Speakers for the season of 1895—as far as now issued. embrace twenty-five volumes, viz. : 1 American Speaker. 2 National Speaker. 3 Patriotic Speaker. 4 Comic Speaker. 5 Elocutionist. 6 Humorous Speaker. 13 School Speaker. 14 Ludicrous Speaker. 15 Komikal Speaker. 16 Youth's S ker. 17 El uent esker. 18 Hai Colum is Speak'r 7 Standard Speaker. 19 Serio-Comic Speaker. 8 Stump Speaker. 20 Select 8 aker. 9 Juvenile Speaker. 21 Funny peaker. 10 S read-eagle Speaker. 22 J01] Speaker. 11 D me Debater. 23 Di ect Speaker. 12 Exhibition 8 er. 24 Recitations &Readings Burlesque Speaker. Dun: Dumas. Numbers 1 to 41 inclusive. The above books are for sale by all newsdealers or slent,post-paid, on receipt of price—ten cents eac . BEADLE AND ADAMS, Posmsnm. 98 WILLIAM S'rnnm'. le You. BEADLE’S Dime Burlesque Speaker, No. 25. CONTENTS. Plenty Small's Proclama- The Critic at Work, tion, Fortunate Fla 21 Cl e r s The Mother-ln-Law, Shows his Teeth, The Widow O’Shane’s Guilty, of Course, Rint, N o More French, Leatherlung’s (Jon and Animile Statistix, pro, Some Things Account- A Cockney’s Experience, ed For, The “Free and Equal ” The Cats, Humstéug, Q Astronomical Sci io roggs’s ues- tor, pi The Poet Bold, ons, The Treachery of Jones, January Jones Defends Declamation, the Eagle, Shtichen Oats Dot’s Wild, The Mule, Treadwater Jim, Brother A Leadville Sermon on Liars, the “ Prod,” That Lamb, Address to the Giantess, Peter and his Lottery The Ass and the Lark. Ticket, Tony Johnson’s Protest. The Mosquito Adjured, Coruscs- Gardner on Watermelons, “ Thar Birchen Tree," Very Pathetic, The Late Mr. Shakspere, A Telling Plea, The Pie for Me, Back to Griggsby’s, Bucke e Bill. Advice to a oung Man, Rev. eter Bill’s Warn- The Plagues of Egypt, “8. Julius Caesar Sumner’s Jones’s Wife’s Aunt, Views, A Rhyme of the Time, John J ones—his Horn. A Short Debate on Rum, Sentiment, The Good Woman, Bu’stin’ the Temperance The 'Clerk of the Wea- n, t er, Ediket, That Noble Animal, Man, The Scenes of Childhood. The Bold Fisherman, Sancho Brown is Mad, Cudjo Hardsin’s Pre~ Pilkins’s Landlad , scription, The Collegian l lumin- A Tale of Two Buckets, ates, Dot Hoboken Bucket, Uncle Cuff “ Rises fur ter The Sale of Old Bache- ’Splain ” lors Assorted omen. The Difference, Like his Mother Used to Getting a PbotgPraph, Make, As Others See Set ’em Oud, The Cotton Field (1, Yankee Courtsbi , Signs of Summer, The Day we Cele rate, A “ Fish Story." Dot Fritzy, For sale by all newsdealers, or sent, pest-paid, on receipt of price—ten cents. BEADLE AND ADAMS. Pususnm. 98 William Street, New York. [lepton Mayne Reid’s. 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