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{I‘HE FOREST FORT’S QUEEN”: I '

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BY PAUL BIBBS,

AUTHOR 05‘ m FOLLOWING POCKET W:

3. 42 LYNX-CAP. No. 55 Bmcmmn.
V 1.49 Mocusm BILL. No. 90 Tu 
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Med According to Act of Cong-mu, in the year 1810, by
FRANK STARR & 00., -
II III ofllu of the mein of Congreu. 3: WM

 

 

 

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  ’ SCARLET MOCCASIN

 j], THE FOREST FORT’S QUEEN!

 

c H A P T.E R I .
.‘ mmns non TWO.
“Conn, Montgomery; said my friend St. Pjerre, rushing

" into myroom early one morning, “ have you forgotten that we
start to-day ? Wait!

Let me order a mint julcp, or a sherry

cobbler, and—” ~
“ No, no,” cried I, interrupting my kindehearted and impe

nous friend; -“ I’m all right, I assure you. I‘ll be up in I

squirrei’s jump."

VI forthwith arose; and, after completing my toilet, we do-
scended to the piazza. of the hotel. It was, as yet, but early
morning ;' yet the streets of New Orleans were thronged with

" thousands of hurrying men, women and children. Upon the

piazza a. somewhat large end motley crowd had assembled.
With a single glance I could pick you out the speculator, the
tradesmen, the sailor, or the silent, observing tourist.

Upon that piazza stood a regresentative of almost every
civilized land 'upon earth. v There stood the light-haired, ligllt- '

. abnililcxioned Scandinavian, in close proximity with the dark-

h'nired, dark-visang son of Gen]. Therc‘ stood the short,

I healthy-looking Britain, the. florid representative or “ bonnie

Caledonia," beside the long, gaunt specimen from the moun-
tains of Vermont.’ Among all that assemblage, perhaps, there
,could not have been found two with corresponding ideas,
though all their thoughts were centered upon one grand point,
the cemmeneeinentwof the road that leads to wealth. some—

ktheSeWere' foreigners-were going to seek it in the wild West
3-10 turn- land with the sturdy plowshare.

 

\

‘ scanner MOCCASIN; on,

Many of those that stood there r‘possessed capital which they ,

, were ready to invest inthe first seemingly profitable scheme.‘ ’
, Others were there who made it their business to watch and
‘take advantage of the cotton, sugar, tobacco, and other markets.
The] breakfast bell rung. For a moment the crowd forgot
their intended speculations, and made one general rush into the

_ break fast-room. I
At the breakfast-table, directly opposite me. there seated
luimuelf an individual wlzoso appeararme I ('l)l’iti not lu‘ip par--

n

Lt  ‘2 ‘. i.‘  '~ :1: '2: z l'jsz, 11:: hwmj fin 3mm-

ot' age. lie wasuf human: s .c and hitttlJt‘, mm :igiuilhfiu
hair, large, round. blue eyes, and a daintily-eurled mustache. He
wore a pair of lacquered pumps, and when he stepped about in
them, it was with the motion of one who is conscious of walk-

' * ingi upon bad eggs. His pantaloons Were composediof the
finest cloth, of- 5. sky-blue color; his coat was cut in the latest
fishion, and made of the finest broadcloth. Fastencd' around ,

7 his neck was a piece of orange-colored ribbon, at the endfiof , "
which was attached one of those indications- of snobbery, an ’ ‘

‘ . eye-glass. A black satin waistcoat, a scrupulously clean shim
bosom, and hair parted in the middle, completed his toilet. I _
recognized the class to which he belonged at once. In Short, ,
he was one of those individuals called “London swells." L
had 'seen- them in their native element, and could therefore refi

‘ cognize one when out of it. ‘ ,

He had scarcely seated himself at the table, when he said,
bestowing upon me at the same time a very patronising look—

“ Ma deaw fellah, pans me the cw-it.” ,

I pushed the polished cwet-stand toward the individual, ’, , ,
feeling anything but pleased at the manner in which be ad‘- ' . '
dressed me. I looked sideways at my staunch American friend} ,'_
lie. was seated close to my elbow, and had been a silent “fits N
mes of the slight transaction between me and my “ opposite.”
lie was, as I have said, a true American, and a democrat—1’

speak not of his/party, but of his principle—to boot. He was
an intense hater of suobdom, and every thing pertaining to it;

He was gazing quietly upon the “gentleman from London,"
with an expression of extreme hatred and contempt. \ .‘ . _ “ "
But the “ gentleman ” seemed nbt to heed'cithcr of as; and

when he had  hilhy no means mall-“apprite‘, its“ area

 

\ .

V’Johnny Bull’s land, or not.

'

L m m son’s-I m.

i

, from the mine, and sum away with ‘as majestiofi'n' atria: ,iti _ '

was possible for him to assume. .

The boat which was to convey St. Pierre and myself up the
Mississippi did not leave the wharf before eight o'clock.
When we arose from the breakfast-table, it was. hut/half past .
six. Thus we had an hour and a half to kill before the time“ / ‘
came for starting. ’

We entered the saloon attached to the hotel.
hilly a score of others in the room, besides ourselves:
of them my friend seemed well acquainted with.

“ Let’s liquor," he said,stcpping up to the bar.

There was

More than half of the rest stepped up to the bar, calling :,
_ loudly for the kind of drink‘ they wished. \A few still: kept:

their seats. These were foreigners, and strangers to St. Pierre;
“ Come, gentlemen,” said St. Pierre, addressing these {he
remained behind, “ won’t you have something ‘23' v I

. The. invitation was not lost upon them. With but one‘eX- , “ "
4 eeption, the lagging ones approached the nicely kept
That one exception was the London gentleman.

“ Do you refuse to drink with me, sir ?"-said\my friend, ad-

dressing him. l '

“Of cawse,‘saw,” was the reply.

“Upon what grounds, sir ?” '

“ Upon these heuli gwounds,” said Snohby, trying to appear
witty. ~ ' ' -

“ Come," said St. Pierre, growing red in the Juce. “ Why
do' you refuse to partake of my hospitality?” \

“ Because, saw, I am a gentleman. Ah nevuh dwink with
Itwungaws." ' ’ ‘
' “ Well, sir,” taking offense at the remark, more. at the
manner in which it was said, their at the Words themselves,
“what of it? It is the custom in these parts to drink with
whoever asks you; whether it is the custom to do so in
Drink, gentlemen."
I turned, with the rest toward the bar, and was soon em-

. r. . l . .
ployed 1n the delightful occupation oi qnatflng down it cool
' “,mintjulep,” one of the most delightful of summer beverages.
,, When I had emptied my glass, 1‘ turned around to take

He had loin aside the
n. few moments

nether survey. of the Londoner.
morning’s paper he had held' in his hand

 

Most * ' ’

-.

l, ' 5 interfered with. I stepped quickly forward, and" seized my

\

sesame xdcdnm; on, i \ ‘E

before, his right hand had been engaged in holding up his. eye- .  y

a glass, through which he appeared to be taking a very careful '2". .
survey of my friend. ' 

We!) did several Others.

 

12 

I looked at St. Pierre. He had drawn up his fine form to '
its full hight, and was watching the other with eyes fairly
flashing with indignation. I saw that a storm wrs brewing , r
The Londoner must have perceived it,

too; still, he kept his eye-glass in the same iusltlting position.

At last St. Pierre could stand it no longer: I

“ Well. sir,” he said, in a voice (if/thunder, “do you see
any thing berg singular in my appearance? Do you take me
for an escaped gorilla? If not that, what, then ‘2”

“ A gowillarl" said the other, removing his eye-glass,

“ déah, no. By yaw looks, aw should say yaw pwofession

Was that of a—ah ! let me see ; of a--”

He hesitated about finishing the sentence. _

, I“ My profession, sir i’" said St. Pierre, calmly.

it ?”

“ P’wapstthat of, a loafer,” was the reply.

/ St. Pierre had heard enough. Quickly springing ‘forwurd,

he caught the “ edekney ” by the throat. ’

“Recall that," he said, hoarsely, “ or, by heaven! I’ll

I strawgle you.” t .,
The “swell” was getting very red in the time. St Pierre‘s
fingers tightly clutched his throat. I knew the latter’s fierce
temper. I knew that he would choke his aggravator, if not

 

“ What 

t

" friend by the arm.

. “ St. Pierre,” I said, “ seel you are strangling him i”
My warning was unheeded; and l flung myself with all -
my energy upon him. By this time, several others had stepped
/ forward ; and St. Pierre was made to release his clutch on the‘
Londoner’s throat by main force. . . r I

' “ I'Ial my fine i‘ellaw,” said the latter, when once more

' able to speak, “yaw shall catch it faw this! Saw, ah shall
take the libawty to send you a challenge.” ’ v
“ Very good,” said St. Pierre. “ How soon it
settle it now. Seerl have the weapons.” ’ t
He drew from his pocket two small, silvee-monnted pistols;

one of which he offered to his antagonist. It was refused.”

 

Why not ‘

 

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' ‘ H" .‘
m FOREST non'r’a QUEEN.

. “hNo, saw. Aw ’m no outlaw. . Why not use swodes,
saw 1’” , I '
“Very good. Swords, then. Here, waiter! a couple of
‘ Tamers.” ‘ V , y
The command was quickly executed. Each of the an- .
, ta onists seized upon a weapon, and the crowd fell back
‘ T is Londoner, though a dandy, was no coward. He took his
Weapon with perfect sang froz'd, and bent it once or twice, as
it"to try its pliability. He was a tine fencer. I could tell
thnt by the manner in which he came to guard.
The encounter began. The antagonists were cool 31nd
‘ cOllected. Both were silent, but each fought with flashing
eyes and clinched teeth. I eagerly watch the struggle. I
feel anxious for the safety of my friend. though I perceive that
he, also, is an excellent swordsman. However, the combat is
of short duration. Shortly, the Englishman’s weapon is
whipped from his hand, and he is at the mercy of his antagq-—'
'nist. ‘ ' ‘
“ Now, sir,” said St. Pierre, “ an apology, or, by heaven!
I’ll run you through I” _- ‘ -- ‘

' The sharp-pointed weapon was close to the other‘s breast,
and I knew‘thzit he would executmhis threat, was not hisge- \ I
quest‘very quickly complied with. ‘ ' ‘

“Well,” said the Londoner, “if aw must apologize, o!
cawse aw will. Yaw pwadou, saw.” ‘
The affair was coded.

\

\“

C HAPTER II.
mm BOAT-uses. .

\

A FEW moments before eight o'clock found us aboard the -_ ,,
“Sultanaflthe bout that'ovas to convey us up the river as far
its-St. Paul. ” ’ ' ,

Yes, I'for a time, was going to quit. the hum and hustle of

» _v oivilizéd life, and exchange .it for one of adventure and
 ,puter freedom. St. Pierre it We: who had persuadedrmo to

t

 

,sqaam'r nocusm; on,
O
l .o
‘ ’acoompany him in‘ one of his journeyings into the “vest,
‘ illimitnble changing West." ' '
The journey, too, he said, would not be without its profits.
He told me that if I invested what capital I had upon such
merchandise as fur—traders carry into the Indian 'cou-ntry, I
could easily double, if not treble, my money. 1 took his ad-
vice, and invested one-half my Capital in pocket looki’ng-
glasses, knives, beads, etc. St. Pierre was himself a. trader, \_ -
and it was under his guidance that I laid out my tnoney.’ '1'»
‘ _My friend was a man of no small means. I knew that he
was the possessor of more thouSands ot‘fiollars than many,
perhaps, would have suspected. He had been in the fur:
trading business for the last twenty years, and had ’ long ago
, amassed wealth enough to allow him to retire, did he wish it.‘
\,But no; the life he was leading offered too many allurementl
for that. \ x ' >
’1' St. Pierre, at the period I amnvriting of, was‘somcwhat
" past forty years of age. He was a tall, powerfully built man,
with large dark eye‘s, long black hair, and heard of a like'hue. ' I ; 3 ‘ v».
St. Pierre was unmarried. In his early life he had loved a
girl who proved false to him. ‘ He never loved again. 5
.I had not been very long on board the boat, and was busily
engaged in watching the hurried preparations that. were being '
made upon the wharf, when up drove a fine harnuche. Ont
' of it stopped two persons—hoth young, both elegantly attired.
The first was a lady, the Second my friend at the breakfast
talilc, the Londoner. The young lady seized the lutter’s arm,
, and together tlu-fascended into the saloon. V ‘
The time for the departure of the “ Sultana ” had arrived. The
bell t‘olled,‘sevcral persons ran down the gangway, which was,
a moment later, drawn in. The hawsers were cast loose,
and, after a few revolutions of her paddles, the boat had left.
the wharf, and was &eginning to glide rapidly up the Missis-
sippi. ,1 , t
I About thessnne time that the “Sultana” made her start,another
» boat, equal] y large, and built for faith-uniting, backed out into
the‘streatn. on her paddle-box I read the words, “ Henry
Hudson.” Our own emit was, at that time-one of the fastest V 'g
,boats,v0n the river, being the “crmk”,.boat of the thin t9, ‘ '_ .:
'. which aha  Inpointefmyahe 

 

mn- rorms'r rc‘m'r‘s‘ 

Her saloon and state rooms were fitted up with the‘grentest
elegance, at a cost to her owners offithousmn‘ds of ,dol-
lurs.

The “ Henry Hudson " belonged to another firm. Thoughdt
was acknowledged thnt this but was far beneath the “ Sultana ”
in point of beauty, yet- it was claimed by many” that, in poin‘t
of speed, the former boat equaled, if wt surpassed, the latter.
As yet, however, no race had occurred between the two boats,
and the matter was therefore doubtful on both ‘sides.

Most of the/male passengers on board the “ Sulnmn” were
'wembled' upon the deck. All knew that a nice betWeen that»

7 two must certainly ensue, and already were bets being made
'upon the issue. Many were loud in their praises of the Sul-
tana; others equally as loud in theirs of the “Henry Hudson."

“Wnl, stranger," said one‘ long, gaunt New Enflnnd’er,
“I've been aboard that ‘m‘ boat, nnd, I kin toll yew—I kin jest ‘
tell yew—what she ar’ ; she kin jest beat this here boat all to
pieces." K
‘ “ Hold on,” said another, “ will you bet on that P“ t

“ Of course, stranger.” ‘
“ How much?”
'“ Twenty-fie no, fifty dollars 1”
“I’lLtalge your bet.” ‘ «I
I turned from the noisy group. and walked to the opposite '
side of the bent. I held in my hood 3- small spy-glass, with
‘1 which I was soon amusing myself by gazing upon the objeets‘
on the broil: of the river.
V “ H» l” I heard n'voice exclaim, and felt, at the some time,
' it lmnd laid upon my shoulder. I- lowered the glass, and
,turned around. Before that, however, I knew to whom Itho
voice belonged. Tho peculiar accent with which the “ Hat 1"
wins- pronounced could not have come from any other lips than
‘Z' those of the Londoner. ‘
' “‘Mnfinu fellaw,” said he, “would yaw be so kind as to
lend me yaw glans few a moment ?" ' '
' For it 'moment I hesitated: The wayin which he had
, treated St. Pierre hnd mnde nie detest the man. 'I‘be next
_ ,- moment, however, I eagerly thrust the glass into his hands.
" \ ’Ee tln‘mlfiéfi the; and walked all? - r
 , '3: reality; howewr‘, n was not to him that I had lent my

1

\ «t

\r _‘ ‘/

 

“ ‘ 16  scum-r mocohsw; on;

‘glass.’ While my mind was considering whether I should
comply with his request or not, my eyes had chanced to
r wander toward the tafl‘rail of the boat. I saw seated there
the'young lady who had accompanied the Londoner on board.
It was 'she, I thought, whg wanted the glass. The
young man approached his companion, adjusted the glass, and
- handed it to her. I scanned the fenmle's features closely. In
a. moment I saw that the two were not than and wife—not ‘
even lovers. They were too much alike for that. The girl‘s
‘ nose, hair and Complexion were those of her companion. Even
‘ an ordinary observer could have seen at a glance' that the
two were but brother and sister. -

‘Yes, the two, in looks, resemble each other cl0sely. But
the expression of their mouths, and their general hearing, are
differ-ext. The difference between their outward dispositions
strikes me at once. One isioverbearing and self-conceited—
,the other dignified, yet kind [and unostentatious. She is, more- ‘

, over, handsome—more than ordinarily so:

By and by her brother leaves her, drawn away from her
side hy the noisy group who are betting upon the expected ' ' ’
,bmtt-race.’ ‘ ’ v ‘
,, ‘ His sister is still engaged with the spy-glass. \I longed to

' " be introduced to her. Indeed. so strong did the' desire seize
' upon me, that I resolved to do no less than to ask her brother -
to perform the ceremony, when he returned the glass. The
t ' “ introduction," however, came sooner,‘ and in a different man-
ner, than I had expected. Accident it was that caused it. '
She had grown tired of the glass, and was bringing it down
K ‘ ' from her eye, when 10! the glass was accidentally h't against
the tufl'rail of the boat, and fell from her hand over the side,’ \ "
and into the Mississippi. The young lady gave an exclamation
of combined pity and anger, as she saw the ill-fated spy-glass ‘ 
d’sappear, and quickly glanced at me, as if to see whether I '7 .I_ .'
z-f '3 had noticed the accident; She caught me gazing dtrectly at if 
’ h .r. I 'I would have"tumed my eyes away, and appeared as if A ' >_
,( Ihad not been a witness of her—or, rather, ray—misfortune," I} 
’ but I had not time, so quickly did she glance toward me.“ »'  f . I
l
2
f

\ .

 

 

 

A moment after she stood before me. - ' . l . t . I
“ I believe, sir,” she said, with that accent [Secultar to Lon- " f ‘
." odoners, fjthat that glass I unfortunate enough ‘t‘oV'lo/u, ‘ ;: f

’ wt‘

 

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‘ 1 ' ‘ ‘ x, r V //-.i\ ‘n 'rg‘r .

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‘ ,I m sonar ron'r’s gum I ’17

, belonged to you. I am sorry that the accident occurred. If
there is any way that I can recompense you, 1—”

“It is but a trifle," I said, interrupting her. “ As to recom-
pensing inc—I beg you will mention it no more." ‘

‘ She gimme a slight bow; and then, for a moment, we both

l‘were silent. She did not offer to leave me to myself again,-

but stood watching the noisy group of betters, of which her
brother was one.

“ My brother,” she said, at length, withdrawing her eyes
from him, and again turning them upon me,-“ seems to he get-
ting excited about something or other.”

 “ Yes," I replied “ Perhaps he, like the rest, is betting up- t
On the boat-race.” . r

“ Boat-race i What bon‘~race, sir ?” I

“ Ha. !” said I, smiling. " You can not, then, have been
very long in America ‘2” ' ’

“ No,” she replied ; “ hardlv a week."

I was about to explain to her the rit'alry that existed be-

' tween the different boats upon an American river, when her
I brother detached himself from the group of n'oisy individuals,
‘ and approached us. .
“ Aw !” he said, to his sister. " Yaw‘ve returned the young
fellaw’s glass, I suppose. Come with me. We’re to have
some spawt, soon.” I '
. He seized the young lady‘s arm; and she, after a parting
salute, followed him toward the tafi'rail of the boat.
1My friend, St. Pierre, approached me.
I “ Well, Montgomery," he said, in his cordial tone of, Voice. ‘
 . “ have you been betting upon the race ?” '
“ No,” I replied. “ Have you i"
1' “Certainly. I have staked a hundred dollars against the x
I ‘lienry Hudson.’ ” <  :
§ -‘ g _ Together we walked to the opposite side of the boat. By .
i a." , “thistime the race between the two boats had already begunn
i :.,3~  The safety—valve of the “Sultana” denoted that she was ua
}

 

-‘  , 'der 2. high pressure of steam. Notwithstanding that, her fire
it ' _ men were using all their efforts to raise the steam still higher. ‘
:3 q /  “Raise her up, boys!” shouted the first engineer. _. “ Her
 ‘ /. boilers are in good condition? , _ ' , r
 .‘ I .\"Al)‘oard-the “ Henry Hudson" we calla: penned“: the cam;

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15' s ‘ W ; on, ,.
scene" was being enacted. The two boats were quite close «to I
each other, and, as yet, neither had seemed to gain a foot.
Now, however, we aboard the “Sultana” saw that our boat
was rapidly beginning to leave the other behind.

,“ Whoop»! Here we go at last i” shouted a voice.

“ Good-by, old tub l” exclaimed a second. '

“Two to one 011—” . {I

But the mirth and merriment aboard 'the “ Sultana " is sud- I
denly hushed. We,saw;a dense cloud of vapor ascendfrom-
the rival boat, then came a. terrific crash, followed quickly af-.
ter by a wail of terror and despair! At once we divined the
cause The shattered sides of the “Henry Hudson " told the

' tale. Her boiler had exploded 1 Blue wreaths of smoke weie
beginning to curl up. We saw that ,she was on fire. BeSides
that, she was fast sinking. The captain of the “Sultana”
ordered her boats to be lowered, and to bring 03 those of the
“ Henry Hudson’s ” passengers who could not swim. 0!.
course, the “ Sultanals” paddles had been reversed, and she
was slowly backing toward the ill-fated vessel. _

These aboard the “ Henry Hudson " who could swim, bad‘
leaped into the river, and were endeavoring to reach the “Sula
I tans.” A few succeeded. The rest the swift current soon .
" “ , bore down-stream. ) ' I I p
, ‘5, I will not endeavor to narrate the strenuous efforts of .all
these who were able toassist in saving all-that could be saved.
—~ Of course, a. few of her passengers perished. To save all was
 r- unrutter impossibility. ‘
The “ Henry Hudson ” was ablaze from stem to stem when

; ’ she sunk; and it ,was not without a sigh of regret that I saw

the waters close over her. But scarcely had she disappeared,

, beforethe ~“-Su1tana’s” paddles once more began to revolve,
and we were again on our way to St. Paul. '
\ .

/,

 

 

 

' tiny through the vast wilderness.

an roam tom’s own. 10,

\

CHAPTER III. ’
NORTH-WEST “ SETTLEMENTS."

Ammo with a. number of others, St. Pierre and myself .
'ut last debarked for the—at that time—small town of St.
Paul. ' I

’It was not St. Pierre's intention to remain. bereyhut to
carry our goods still further up,’ the Mississippi. The best'
'murket, he said, would be Narcene, a small trading‘post some
fifty miles below Luke Itasca. '

The journey to Narcene, my friend informed me, would;
Viruseto be made with wagons, oxen and horses. The road
Accordingly, I spentrone half
tbe'dny in the purchasing of ox-teams, and bargaining witlu
teamsters. This being concluded, I was at liberty toeujo
myself 118 best Leonid. .

St. Paul at that period presented a fnr difl'erent aspect from
the present. Its few inhabitants consisted of retired trap-
pers. refugees. hunters and. traders.
hells, whisky-shops, and one or two miserable stores that
werethere. were doing a very profitable liusincSS.

ut I knew that, ere long, the scene would change. I
'conld not. but think that one day St. Paul was surely destined
40 become one of the most beautiful and populous cities in the
'West. St. Pierre upprdacbed me. V

I“ Come, Montgomery," he said. “ I’ll take you yaroundfimd
elbow you the sights.“ ‘

I followed my friend into a small, mean-looking log-cabin. )

outside of which was a dilapidated sign-board, upon which
wus chalked “ 'l‘rappcrs’ Home, by Mike Dolan.” Inside the
“saloon " was :1 long plank, which, of course, answered for
the “ bur." Behind it stood, on u shelf, three or four whisky
kegs, and one or two small tin cups. This ,was-the owner's
entire stock, The barkeuper himself was a tell. lantern-
‘detbof Em»; C

' At the'fu/rthermud of the room, seated on awooden Mani),

It :iboundcd in gaming-- V

x

l

scsnnn'r MOCCAgm t; On,

d

Were a number of individuals whose appearance arrested my
attention at once. One or two were clad in old, dilapidated
costumes of civilized life, the rtmainder in the garb at that
time peculiar to the frontier. Several grasped in their hands

‘ along rifle, and'in their belts each carried a huntingdtnit‘e
and one or two pistols. The sight is new to me, and 1 watch
their proceedings with no small amount of curiosity. They
one and all seem to know St. Pierre, for upon his entrance
they each greet him with loud hurrahs, and various other ,
loud demonstrations of friendship. I i

. “ Whoop PGeehosephat l" exclaimed one, rising from his
seat. “How ar’ ye, old boss? Don’t 'yer know me? My'. ‘
name’s Josh Stiltesl Yes sir-r-ree. I ken outswim, out-
shoot, an’ outlick any other Salt River roarer that ever drew

a. bad I" ' ‘ .

f‘ Hold on tbnr, old greaser !” exclaimed a second, springing
fiercely up. “ Do ’ee know what this child’s name ar‘? ‘Hesv
name ar’ Bill Hawkins, it ar’. Yer says yer ken outshoot \
me, does yer? Pish l ’Ee durned fool l" . V

The former speaker replied by knocking the latter down.
This was the signal for a general set-to. The rest of the
trappers sprung up, and all set to work, some taking one side,
some another. The excited trnmwrs at first fought with their
lists. but soon‘ their pistols were drawn, and several shots fired.

When the tight had first Commenced, St. Pierre had been
stsndingin the very midst of the combatants. He quickly
fell back, and came and stood by 'my side. We would gladly I
have left the disgraceful scene, had it been possible. But it

. was not. A mob, attracted by the'pistol-shots, had crowded
into the saloon, and barricaded the door. Escape just then
’was thus shutoff, and imitating the example of SLPierre. and
one or two others, I drew forth a six-barreled Colt: revolver.

Presently, one of those “born I had noticed in the room
when I first entered, approached us, and exclaimed in a loud,
voice, pointing at St. Pierre: . ' /

“ Here’s the teller as raised’the row i" ‘

“ Liar l" ejaculated St. Pierre, turning savagely upon ,him.‘
'9 How did I mise~ths row 1’ What had I to do with it? If
you don’t take back those words, I’ll blow your card bill ‘

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/ , '  rower mom‘s QUEEN. ' 81

St. Pierre cocked his revolver, and aimed it full alt the\ ras-

cnl’s head. [He was not a trapper, I saw, but a miserable
’ half-breed. In fact. he was one of the very fellows whom I
lied just previously engaged to drive my goods to Nurcene. ,

Just then, some one behindoor bucks threw up St. Pierrc’s
um, causing the weapon he held in his hand to go ofl‘. Turning
quickly around, I saw to whom the outstretched arm belonged.
lVithout a single moment’s hesitation, I raised my revolver and
fired. The fellow fell back, not dead, but with a broken
shoulder-blade. _

. Again I cocked my weapon, expecting that I should be
compelled to use it again. in a second or two. He who had
been the cause of the fresh trouble had fallen back among the
crowd, and was not. to be seen. My firing the shot had
directed St. Pierre’s attention away from him.

' Fierce looks and frowns greeted us on every side. ,The

' r , wounded miscreant‘s friends would gladly have punished us,
but, for some reason or other, they seemed loth to begin. We,
too, were not without our friends. Severn] had thrown them--
selVes alongside St. Pierre and myself, with pistols cocked and

« ready. At that time the deadly revolver was a weapon but
little known. As far as I could see, St. Pierre and I Were the
only ones in the mom who had possession of one. The 01»
posing party, too, had drawn their weapons; and the scene
was thrilling in the extreme.

“ Gentlemen,” said St. Pierre. “If there is any one among
you who would like to settle this matter with me, let him
step forward.” .

“ Why with you ?" asked some one in the crowd. ,

"‘ Because, if we all tight, there will be too much blood-
shed. Two of us can settle the matter quite as well.”

For a moment there was a profound silence. Desperadoes a9
many that were there were, they were not willing to spill their
blood, if it Could be possibly avoided. After a short hesitao

I tion. one of their number. a fellow with n low, hang-dog ex-
pression, stepped forward. l V ’

“ Here‘s yvr mill-r," he smi .l, with air air of braggadocio.

“ Indeed," Suit fit. Pierre, surveying him contemptuous] .
“ We”, «‘r, n ! we to step pntside and we'll settle the mild: u  /

1 rule open ,air. Make way there i" '

 

 
       
  
    
     
      
     
         
   
   
     
   
   
       
        
    

 

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22 ' sortan vocalist»; on ‘ ' ‘ A»:
The crowd now made a rush for the open air. I» quickly ‘
followed: I was: anxious to see how the atfair would end.
I had not long to wait. ' I
. The two antagonists stood twenty yards from, ench other. \
Both had their buckstoward each other, and lit a given signal
they were to turn and fire. All this was arranged in' less
time than it takes to narrate it. .
But the signal that had been agreed upon never came. It
would have come, doubtless, but Fate willed it. that the signal
for St. Pierre to tire should be an unexpected one. The two
men had but taken their places, when he who Imd taken up
till: cuuse of him whoniI lmd wounded, wheeled suddenly I
round, brought. up his pistol, and fired at St. Pierre‘s ., '
buck. Thank heaven. in his hurry, the miscrennt missed his ‘ v '_
aim. My friend remained unhurt. Quick as lightning he 
Vturned, and the' next. moment the villain who had thus at- \ W '
tempted'to take his life lny upon-the ground. St.» Pierre’s /
bullet had pierced his heart. ~
' The nfi’nir was ended. The dead man was a notorious
bully and cut-throat; and mnny there were, even among his
fiends, who were glad that his existence was thus terminated.
It was now sunset.
. St. Pierre informed me that we would start thr Nanette
nnrise on the mom-ow. -

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C H A P T E R I V .
HIE PRXARIE VAGABONDS.

Tun following morning. shortly after daylight, the inst wa-p
gon composing our train left the town. This was guarded ‘ A
by a few men, of whom I was one. « w i
‘ The train numbered some twenty-five wagons, and nearly—in " ‘
al‘.’—one hundred men. -I could see the vanguard of ourlittle -
army for to the front. There were also it few women among ‘
our number. With but one exception, these were the wives
.snd daughters, of the pioneers. The one exception was the 1.x ,_ . 1
sister of the Londoner.

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“What object brings her out here ?” I» questioned myself.

She rode «small white horse, and kept continually by the
tide of her brother, who was himself mounted upon one of
the largest boy mares that waste be bought in St. Paul. Hit
costume now consisted of an entire suit of brown gelveefl
teen, made after the fashion prevailing among English 3190755
men. That Very morning he had donned- a clean, white
mm; and as he had no intention. of letting his small and
whitr. hands become rough and brown by exposure, he wore
a pair of green- kid gloves! ' '
. Like St. Pierre, I had exchanged my city dress for one far

more suited to the wilderness—an entire suit' of buckskin.
‘My anus and acnonterments consisted of a rifle. powder-flask,

bullet-pouch, a pair of revolvers and :\ Bowie. I was thus»
armed to the very teeth, and as I rode along, the novelty of

I the situation, aided by the keen morning air| made my spirits

buoyantl and I felt as if I feared nothinrr. ,
\ :We entered the heavy timber. At that tithe, nothing could ~
excel ,the grandeur of a Minnesota forest. Its tall trees of oak

‘ and maple, overtowering those of the wild crab, cherry and

plum species,‘strnck me at once with their beauty. '

The first day of our journey we kept on without “naming.”
All felt anxious to proceed rapidly as possible. Toward un-
down we debauched from the forest, and entered a.‘ prairie—-
cevered as far as the eye could stretch with flowers of every
tbrm and hue. ,

It was determined that we should halt here for the night;
The‘ wagons were placed in‘ a kind of circle, and in .the

center tires were kindled, over which were soon roasting huge
‘ 4 .

loll-mks oil dried venison.
..When our 'meal was ended we rolled ourselves in‘ our
blankets and slept. ,
The next day our road lay over the prairie. Toward noon
we made a short halt, then Continued our march. Shortly

‘ after sundown, away to the west, we sighted a stream-or water,

looking like a. silver thread. It wasthe St. Peter’s. Just be-
yond is lay another object that attracted our attenlion—another
finest. -

They were too for distant to be reached that night, so
we again? pun-pared at [once to pass the night where we

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were. As I was one of the number detailed for picket,

duty thnt. night, I took my place. I had not. occupied

it long when some one detached himself from the groups \

at‘ the fires, and approached me. It was St. Pierre. His visit
pleased me. For the last two days I had but; a very feW
words with my friend, his time being occupied in watching,
over the safety of the party and their goods in general. ,

, “Well, Harry," said he, grasping my hand, “how doe-ix '

prairie life agree with you ?”
“ (‘upittu!” I answered. “I feel altogether like a. new
manlb ' i
“ Ila. !” he exclaimed, smiling, “ I see you are already af-
fected with the prairie fever. To-morrow night,” continued
N110, “ if all be Well, we shall he in New Salem.”
I At this moment a third person approached the spot.
was Bill Price, one of the trappers who formed part \of our
,1 party. 
“ Captain,” said he, addressing St. Pierre, “ do ’ee see them
31" dark spots ’way out on the perairer 2*” r
The trapper raised his arm and pointed toward the south-I
west. St. Pierre and I both looked in the direction indicated,
and perceived in nutnbe' of dark objects far out on the prairie.

The moon had risen, mm was at its full, and we were nble'to.

distinguish the objects with ease. We knew what they were
. ‘at a. glance. 17mg were Indians .’ ‘

They were mounted, and. each moment we were able to dis-
tinguish them with greater case. They were not coming di-
rectly toward us as when we. first saw them, but we doubted

‘ not their course would be soon changed, . ‘

“Indians 1" St. Pierre had exclaimed, when first-his eye/had
fallen upon them. “Mounted, tool It can not be——tio, it
can not he that they have dug up the hatchet, Bill, eh?"

! “Waugh! cap’n, thet ar‘ lntrd_to say. Shouldn't be sur-
prised, though. Thet ar’ Sioux chief, Bloody Arm, an" it big
enemy to white folks.
war it young chief, nn’ I’m sorry I didn't."

“ But they do not appear to be coming toward us," said my V

friend, in an anxious tone. “Perhaps it's but a hunting-x
' party.“ r

I u  C3p’h,"  the trupper. a  “1. hard  r \.

I.

It}

I ked ’3‘ shot him onct, when he

 

 

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rim FOREBT Fon'r's QUEEN, . 25

For full ten minutes we stood silently watching them.’

Their horses were going at a full gallop. There must at least

, have been two hundred, if not more. We could hear the
noise the hoofs of the horses made, as they struck the firm
prairie, distinctly. It reached the practiced ears of the rest of
the trappers in the camp, and they awoke on the instant.

Suddenly the savages came to a full stop. But it was only
‘for a moment. Their horses were again set in motion, and
this time they galloped directly toward us.

There was not a second of time to he lost.

They would be upon us in a twinkling, and if they were

' upon the war-path—
“Burry l” shouted St. Pierre. “Let us be well prepared
to meet them!”
jBy this time the whole of our little army was aroused.
Each man at once perceived the danger, and was not slow
I to prepare to defend himself. The female portion were placed
inside one of the obvercd wagons, and one of the teamstcrs
had orders to let not one of them escape from it. The in-
, junction was scarcely necessary. They knew well the clan.
get they ran, if they exposed themselves; and therefore sat
silently awaiting what should happen.

Aflcr ascertaining that both my revolvers and my rifle
were loaded, I silently watched the proceedings of the rest.
~Presently I was aware of, the presence of the Londoner, who
said, in a half-frightened tone :

“ Ah Lma deaw young fellow, dawn’t you think we‘re in
faw a fight. ?" t .'

“ Really, sir," I answered, “ I‘m quite unable to inform
you, At any rate, we shall know before long. I hope
you're not afraid ?” . ‘

“ Afraid! deaw, not But you see I haven‘t a rifle; only a
shot gun."

In spite of the anxietyI felt, I could not refrain from smih
in}: at the ,man’s words. The idea of bringing a shot-gun
,lnto thewilderness was to me a new one. ' He saw the smile
on my face: for he turned quickly away, and was soon lost
among a group of men a short distance from us. As Soon

a as he magnum, those who were standing near me, and had
V heard the Erglishman’s remark, burst into a loud laugh.

\ \

 

 

mm floodser ; on,

“ Waugh!” exclaimed one, “ hels a Britisher, ain't die?"

“ ’Ecs,” said another.

“ 'I suppose he’s gone artcr his gun. Ef we hev any
fi’t’n to do, we will hev an opportunity 0’ seein’ how nshot- ,\
gun-mx'llnjnns agree, though I’ll allow this hyar childhes ’
never seed it, as yet."

, I turned from the :group, and directed my gaze once more -'
out upon the prairie. ‘

The savages were by this .time less than amile distant,
and still coming over the prairie at a full gallop. In spite of
my apprehensions, I could not refrain from admiring the ‘
uppm'ance they made. The scene was wild in the extreme,

‘nnd Istood gazing upon it as if fascinated. ,

They are now quite close to us. They have checked the
speed of their animals, and approach us no faster than a walk.
Presently they halt altogether; and one of their number, who
seems to he the chief, rides a few paces to the front of the
rest, and calls out, in tolerany good English : ’ ,>

“ We are friends i"

Atlfirst, on our side, there is no reply.

“ I guess that all right, cap’n,” said one of the trappers, to
St. Pierre. “ You see they’re not in thar paint."

“ Friends!” said St. Pierre, in a loud tone. “ Why do you I
say that? Did we give you any reason to suppose we thought '
you were enemies?” I

“No,” was the reply. “But we saw that you were all ‘

armed.” ' » . '

“ Is it not better to be always ready '2" demanded St. Pi-
;erre. , V '

‘ There was no reply, and St. Pierre continued: “ No, the
red-man and the pale-face war no more. The hatchet has it
been buried forever. Badman, do I not speak the truth ?" '
V A general murmur of assent went through the Indian
tanks. I ‘ ' ’ I
We began to breathe more freely. Yes, the Indians were
 our friends, a few of us thought, and these began to blame
themselves for having suspicioned them. But others there
4 were who ,knew that 'r‘ all Was not gold that glittered,” and r , ‘
g r; at bonesumhe fair mortar of thesauruses 1,4:wa hidden '

L

 

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. 3 i -“ "Winds thei- chlef ?"- asked one of the trappem.
 lt Gray Eagle 2"
“ ’Ees." ' .
_ "‘ Waugh! I thort so. He ar‘ cunnin’ as a fox, he in". I’ve
 met him afore. Hyar comes old foxy hisself.”
g; The Sioux chief again detached himself from his warriors,
, f; and rode a. few paces forward.

"1 f‘ Pale-faces," he said. “ we have no fire-water.
heave some. Our white brethren have plenty."

“ Ain't

  
   
  

We must

>5 his-Indian name, “ we have no fire-water. You mistake us.
" " 7W0 are not whisky-traders.”
' “Ugh!” granted the Indian, being angered at the refusal.
'; “Does our white brother speak the truth ?”
E ,_ '“ He does,” said St. Pierre, in a voice of thunder,- for now
 :he saw, as did several others. that it was the design of "the
v Q ravages to draw them into a quarrel.

 I  Rifles were cooked, and held ready for immediate use. The
‘ ehicf,.knowing that it Was possible to he the first mark- for
one of his adversaries’ rifles, dropped back among his warriors.
He was spokesman no longer. ’
“Waugh! cap’n,” said one of the trappcrs, to St. Pierre,
' “z /“ we moot as well begin, ‘I reckon.
’ we begin we’ll hev the advantage on our side."
‘ I: ~ ; “ True," said St. Pierre. . “ But we will not be the first to
' ' rommence the attack. But see! What does that mean ?” .
A Sudden and unexpected movement was observed among
the savages. We could hear them utter a few quick syllables
—not understood by us—then they'whceled their horses round,

 

 

 

explained
V \ “ Wgugh l Lookee yonder !" said one of the trappers,'point-
' 1 ing to the south-west, the very quarter from whence the sav-
' ages had qome. We

 

\-

 

. ' reason-of the sudden departure of our fees. At a glance we
a z ‘ ,1 recognized them as being frllemia—they were cavalry. -Aslour
. -,  attention had been occupiedhy theSioux, we did'not perceiue

._  1 _ ‘gthtglreppmeehuntil they-were not zmore awaken-o  x

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I y .
r)». ‘1‘»I\_/4lv

“NohChepah Boyah,” said St Pierre.calling the chief by

These were not the sort ‘
'5;  ‘ of men that are slow to perceive an approaching danger-u

\Ve'i‘c in fur it, and of b

and set off at a gallop over the prairie. The cause was soon ‘

ked., An unexpected and weldeme‘
sight mot ourygaze. Notonc of us but what new knew the .

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' distant. i They were coming at the top of their horses' speed, I
their sabers flushing with the light of the moon. ,‘ 5: , '
When within fifty yards of us, they halted. _ ‘r ‘
One of them, whose uniform informed me that he was the r 
captain, called out : -
“ Has any thing gone wrong ?” _,,.\
“ No,” said St. Pierre; “ but the red-skins acted rather susv , ‘ “1
picious." ~
“Yes; it is supposed that they intend commencing hostili- 7L
ties again. Their chief, Bloody Arm, has ordered a general ’ iv
gathering of all the tribes. So you had better be ‘pn your 
guard. Come, boys, forward l” ‘ ,
The captain dug his spurs into his horse‘s sides, then rode ‘ i. ‘
rapidly off, followed by his band. They took the direction f '
t the savages had done, and who were still within sight. ' WE ' _ \
breathed freely once more. For that night, at least, it,.was 3 "gr
not likely that we would be disturbed againn However, St. ., \
Pierre judged it best to double the guard, which was accord" . ’ .
ingly done. Those who were not on guard took to their ‘ ' x ,7
blankets, and in a short space of time silence reigned through-
out the camp once more.

C

‘ 1 CHAPTER v.
A FRONTIER DANCE.

     
     

 
 

THE following day, precisely at sundown, after a long and " U
wearisomefiiarch, we reached New Salem, :5. small village situ-
iMed on the St. Peter’s. ‘ 'r' I

The village consisted of some thirty cabins, a. small church, 1

fl and a fort; galgilsoned with a detachment of troops '

As I have said before, it was sunset .

U , Our arrival was the cause of great Qitemcnt. The inhabl- ' t
tents flocked forth to meet us, and we were received with m y
a cheer and hurrah. / Poor settlers! Cut aloof from the r t
of the world, a fresh arrival was ever looked forward ,to with
joyful anticipation. Some of the settlers found friends among ,,
qur number, and those were mired with many a caress and.

 

      
      
    
    
    
   
    
 

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“others of contempt.

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‘ some‘distance 01f.

I , the army, his life had been passed in the wilderness.

‘ I x  mp“  St. during our meal, «  m

 
  

m roam ronr’s gum. l

icmression of endearment.’ My eye happened to light upon '
‘ the Englishman and his sister. They had both dismounted, and

stood waiting by their horses as if expecting some one to meet
them. The lady looked pale and anxious; caused, perhaps,
by the excitement of the night before. 0

"Most of the inhabitants were eying them with no small
amount of curiosity. The rich dress the young lady wore, and
the singular appearance her brother presented, caused more than
one remark. to pass round—some expressive of admiration,
Some of the soldiers had left the fort,
and as mast of them had seen a “ dandy " before, it was amus-
ing to hear the remarks made, in an undertone, however.
Presently I saw an elderly man approach them, and shortly
afterward conduct them otl‘ to one of the cabins.

By this time the trappers and traders had dismounted, and in
the clearing several fires had been kindled. The oxen and
horses were satisfying their hunger upon the luxuriant grass at
Huge joints of meat were soon sputtering
over the tire, sharpening still more our keen appetites.

'1 I‘had just finished picketing my horse, and was about to com-
mence making preparations for cooking my supper, when St.
Pierre came up. .

“ Come, Montgomery, we sup at the fort."

\Ve passed through the stochade, and entered the fort We
were met by a man whose bearing at once proclaimed him to,
have been a soldier, though now his costume was a counterpart of _

. my own—that of a hunter and trader. St. Pierre introduced him.

His name, I was informed, was Major Maurice. By birth he
was a Frenchman, but when a mere boy his parents emigrated
to Canada, and, with the exception of ten years spent in
He
was commander of the fort, and the chief man of the settle-
ment. .

h After passing through a short passage, we emerged into a
huge, roughly-furnished room. The sole furniture consisted of
a table, one or two rough chairs, and as many benches. At
the further. end‘ was a rude fire-place. .

Upon the table a nude repath had been spread, and after an
apology groin our host; we were invited to be seated. ‘

e; ‘ \

 

 
 

  

l.“

mater uoccm ;. on,

thesilent witness of more than one cruel deed. It in» here

that the celebrated chief, Long Arm, was killed." - ~ ‘

“Indeed,” said I, my curiosity excited. “ That alone would
have been sufficient to have made it a curiosity.” ,

“ It would,” said my friend ; “ but other incidents have take
place which, if but known to the world, would make it still
more so. My friend here, the major, could relate to you an
adventure which has never been surpassed. Is it not so, major ?”»

The major smiled, but made no reply.

“ How did it happen ?” asked I, curious to hear the story.
“ If it is not asking too.much, major, I should very much. like
to hear an account of it."

“ I will relate it with pleasure," replied the major.
fort was built several years before any settler appeared on the

scene, and, at the time I speak of, was garrisoncd by some two ’

dozen men. The red-skins were then—or pretended to lac—on
good terms with us. However, that did not prevent our keep-
ing a} constant lookout for any unexpected foe. I had several
scouts in my employ, and was pretty' well informed of all the
red-skins‘ movements

" One night—it must have been midnight—I was suddenly
awakened by a musket-shot. This was quickly followed by
another, and then another; then- came a wild yell. Well
knowing what they both nuant, I was not slow in springing
from my bed and approaching one of the loop-holes:
ing through, I snw the snvnges just as they rushed into the
stoekude. As I knew that it was now impossible to prevent
their entering the fort, I at once commenced to barricade the
door of my own room. ’

“This «lone, Istood with my rifle cooked and ready, listen-
ing to the sounds without. It was nwt‘ul !- An occasiomd
shot would echo through the fort, then would be fidlowed by
a piercing shriek, as the tonmlmw‘k (lesrentlcd upon some un-
fiirtumtte/ soldier‘s hand. After some timeysilence lollowed.
Not even the slightest murmur could have been henrd.‘ ‘ I Was
just beginning to hope that I had been tin-gotten, when sud-
denly my ears were assailed by two fresh sounds— cool:
tbl'rihle in itself. One wns the soft, cutlihe tremi'ot‘ the
Sioux, us they approached the door, the other was the arm-
liugw made by the flames. I knew the fort War!» on fire.

‘Il

“ This

Look- '

   
  
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
 
 
 
  
    
      
     
    

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" skins to‘give vent to a yell of- rage.

,  t {have time?
 appalling.

mu FOREST mum’s cum.

- “Presently a rush Was made for the door. It did not yield.
1 lladrbarricaded it too firmly tor that. It caused the red-
Another attempt to
break through, and resulted as before. ' I kept perfectly silent,
butlputting every thought to work at planning how I should
escape. There seemed but one way, and that was by chop-
plug a hole in, and escaping through the roof. But would I
That was the next question. The danger was
I could tell by the noise that the flames were
spreading more rapidly each moment. > Soon they would
,driVe the savages from their position, and the latter were bent ,
r upon my capture before the common enemy had time to up?
preach them. Already several of them were using their
~tomahswks upon the door.
‘ “I saw from the loop-holes that the inclosure below was
clear. It would soon rain, for the lightning was flashing, and
thunder sounded through the woods with awful soletnnity.

fx, Idid not stay long looking outside»; but, standing upon a huge

.4.

.»

,ch‘est the room contained, drew forth my hatchet ‘and com.
menced tracking at the roof. I chopped away with the energy
of 1a madman, for I knew that. life depended upon my efforts.
Iwns .nearly frantic, for I could tell by the noise that the'
door was rapidly yielding to the blows. Never, I believe, has
any one Worked with more energy tlnui did I.

’ “ At last I was rewarded by set-in},r a hole sufficiently large
to, allow me to;escape through it. lavas about to dose. when
I remembered that there were no means by which I could reach

' the ground, unless byjnmping. Accordingly, I descended into
the room, and securing a lasso I had there, fastened it to one

' {A  of the rafters, and threw the other end through the! opening l

in the roof, in such a manner that I knew it would fall on the
ground. At that moment the door gave way, and the blaze
/-behind them enabled me to see my enemies plainly. I knew
‘they would be inside in a moment. Just then my eye hap-
pen to light. upon a small keg, standing in one of the corners.
A sudden idea seized me. .1 ran to the keg, and. quick as
lightning smashed in one of the ends. It was filled with gun-
powder! I Picking up‘ the keg, I hurled it with all-my strength

, through the doorway. , It. struck one of .the mega in the
' fat-enudlfell not a lee! Item the flames. , ' '

\
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' / we three left the fort, and wandered to 'the river’s side, there

I

82 scanan MOCCASIK; on,

, . t \ , 34
t," I mounted the chest once more, pulled myself through the. to
opening, and slid quickly down the lasso. By this time it Sic
Was milling heavily, and the wind blew with terrific violence. i 33c
I touched the ground apd heard the explosion shnnltaneously; iv
I knew more than one of my enemies Would suffer. I after-  1:
ward learned that, save one, ,all perished. I was soon under , ' 2,1
the‘ shelter of the woods, and before morning had reached the  t
.uearcst settlement. I was the only one in the fort that ,1
escaped. . r 'r '
“ This room," continued our , host, “ was the only one that
was not destroyed. The explosion scattered, and the min put:
the flames out. But you can see how near they were to it.
I looked toward the door. The posts were charred and rot-
ten. I saw, too, the evidences of the opening that had been
made ‘in the roof; now patched over with layers of thin
boards. Supper ended, St. Pierre informed me that there was
to be a dance given that evening, and asked if I should like
to attend it. A backwoods dance would be to me a novelty;
nothing could have pleased me better; and Iinformed my
friend of the fact. .
As some time would elapse before the dance commenced,’

    
 

to while away the time with an Havana. It was now dusk;
and nature never appeared more charming to me than it did then.
The St. Peter’s glided on with a surface smooth asglass.
Away down the stream could he heard the “ caw-caw ” of
the night-hawks, and the whistle of the whippowil. .v A
flock of wild geese would occasionally pass over ourlheads, ,.
far above, and on the way to Lake Itasca, the great Slimmer 5'
resort of these migratory fowls. ’. , . ’ r 1
The 'village itself presented a curious sight. ‘ The circle of k .
wagons, the drove of oxen and horses quietly feeding onvtho _
rich grass, the children playing in front of the cabin doors—v _. r
all tended to raise up feelings of composure and carelessness ' "
as to future prosperity. What cared I at that moment for 
wealth? Nothing. I felt that tn :1 dress of buckskin, and a
in the habitation of one of those comRumble—looking logs 
cabins, I could be far happier than if the wearer of a fashion. «J.
able suit of broadcloth, and living in sotneruistocmtic ultimo.
At least, such were my reflections at that time. I noticed,
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« Eton, among the crowd of villagers, trapper: and traders, other-I

wf"

fof a *difi'erent appearance; They were Indians -—Sioux. I
'C-countcd more than a dozen of them, wnlkingabout with their
e-‘~"”"'colt-)’red blankets drawn tightly around them, and watching
Y4 _ with eager interest the proceedings of those about tht In. As I
l"  have said before, they were Sioux; and a. more ferocious-
3l'_ :§.lookinq set I never set eyes on. As a class, the Siouxere
l the most forbidding tribe living. The same expression—com-
“ bined avarice, cruelty and liccntionsness~clmructerizes them

r

Hal.

1';  (They were not the only observers. I could plainly see that - .
1‘ f more than one trapper was keeping a sharp lookout for them
‘- .Efrom beneath his thick, shaggy eyebrows. ,1

i' 'i' At last we heard a. few violin notes proceed from one of
II :tl’re cabins, and St. Pierre informed me that the dance was
a is‘about to commence. We left the major on the banks, he
I I? having begged us to excuse him, as he was never given to
3 5 dancing. My friend, knowing his obstinate nature, did not I
i

r

’r

purge him; so we entered the dancing-room together.

 It was not a very spacious one, although the l‘argest the
 village could afford. It belonged to him whom I had seen
take charge of the Englishman and his sister. At the further

; end wusa couple of high stools, upon which sat two violin-

. . lets. This was the orchestra. ,

» t I next surveyed the dancers—especially the female portion.

1 \_  These, as near as I was able to judge, numbered from twelve
‘y to fourteen. Many of them were handsome. Their graceful

- forms were enveloped in robes of many and gaudy colors.

’ x’Their feet were encased in fawnskin moccasins, ornamented
 with beads and stained porcupine quills. The hollow eye, the

' :ltectic cheek, were absent. Their dark eyes flashed brilliantly r
rwith health and merriment. The violinists began a waltz-
., the Natalee. ‘ With what relish did the dancers participate in
g ' ' it l‘ How different from a city dance I I
“I - ' On entering the room, along with St. Pierre, I had seated
.~ myself on one of the several wooden benches that had been
i; placed round the room, near the door. Presently my attention
 was attracted by the arrival of the Londoner. Hanging on
‘.‘~ his arm was a, young and beautiful girl—beautiful “Kobe!
 ft was fascinated u a single glance

 
  

 

  
 
 

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When they entered it Was one of the intervals between; the?
dances. - The next was a schottische. When the “ orchestra ”‘
struck up, I saw them pair off, and commence circling the
room. NVho could she be? I knew not whom to ask. St.
Pierre had left me a few moments previously, and I occupied
- the bench alone. I looked around in hopes of. finding some
one else.

proceedings of those inside were several of the Sioux whom \I
had seen a short time previously. Their dark eyes fairly
' rolled in their sockets as they gloath upon the scene before
them. For some unaccountable reason, I felt ill at case. A
kind of presentiment of some withing evil was upon me. \I re- ‘
membered the words of the captain of the cavalry, spoken the
night before. '
As I looked into those satanic visages, I felt sure that a
storm» was brewing somewhere. “'hen and where igwoum
commence, I knew not. But I managed to withdraw my eyes

from them at last, and look once more at what‘was- tmnspir‘ '

lug within-

CHAPTER VI.
MINNIE.

WHERE was the Londoner‘s sister? She had’not made her
appearance Probably such a gathering wasnotto her tastes.
‘ As for her brother, he was seated—the sehottisehe was
ended—by the side of his partner, as if waiting for the com-
mencement of another waltz. I had come to the hall with the
intention of being a mere locker-on, but the entrance of Jim--
whose name I was yet unacquaintcd with—changed my rose.-
lution. I resolved to seek an introduction, and trust the rest
‘—the winning of her good opinion—to my appearance and
manners. I might have some difficulties to overcome. The
Londoner, it was plain, intended to monopolize her the whole
evening ;"and"this would have to be overcome, perhaps I i
looked at his costume, than at mylown. He was ntth-e’dj in

My glance happened to turn toward One of the win- ‘
dows—open, for the night was warm. Eagerly watching the '

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‘I ‘ ' " . - [an mJFOR'fs QUEEN. \ ‘ 831" _

5,; black pants and dress-coat, and wore a white vest. In fact,

V», lie was dressed preciselyas‘he would have been if he had been
going to attend a ball in the metropolis. Mine was a sn‘it of‘

. buckskin, new and clean, and I fancied I did not look any the,
less elegant in them.

I saw my friend seated beside a charming forest nymph at
the further end of the room, close to the “ orchestra.” I ap
proached him, and drew him to one side a moment.

I “ St. Pierre,” said I, “ who is that young girl seated by our
y t London acquaintance ?" y

. " That l” exclaimed he. “Why, Harry, have you fallen in
x I love with her. Ha 1 ha !”

l “ come, St. Pierre, who is she ?”

“ Well, my boy, seeing you seem so very anxious to know,
I will tell you. Her name is Minnie Lorraine. The Indians
,. , calL her by a very pretty name—f Silver Leaf.’ But come, per-
7 ‘ haps you would like to know her? Shall I introduce you ?”
I

       
     
 
    
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
   
 
    
  
   

. , ' “‘ That’s exactly what I’m after,” said I.
t ' My friend smiled, and walked away, bidding me follow
him. I did so.
K Two minutes more, and the introduction was through with.
(4 , Though bred in the wilderness, I perceived, by the way in
I. which the young girl conducted herself, that she knew what
V. ‘ good manners were. I asked if she was engaged for the next .
 waltz. She did not reply, but cast a quick, inquiring glance
it ~at. the Londoner, still by her side.- Iler companion answered .
 K ' for her. ‘
 “ Ah! deaw me; uw believe we‘re engaged ourselves.”
‘I bowed, and was beginning to move off, when the young
V girl said, in‘a quick tone: . ’
,y - “ The next one, then.”
2,. ’ Hurrah! I had won! I gave her a look—expressive. of
g ‘ -pleisnre and gratification—and another bow, then moved
i

 

’ away, until the time should coine for me to claim her for my

partner. The next dance was a polka. In the impatient
i; ‘ niood'I was in, it seemed as if it would never end. But at
y last the music ceased, and atter allowing the young girl time
2' , - to recruit herself somewhat, I again approached her. The
’ Londoner—whose name was, I had' learned, TompkinsA—still
‘ mooted alsest at her right hand. At her left there was a

‘

      
   
    

  

 

. i  J ‘ I
\ , I
’SCARLET MOCCASIN: OR,

/ _ I

36' '
vacant one; and, without further ceremony, I took it. I
looked to see if she felt displeased at this act of presumption
on my part. Her eyes met mine. They looked at tne for a
second, then were allowed to wander elsewhere.
second of time I had seen enough to convince me that I was
s not regarded with disfavor.

Once more the music commences. This time it is to be A
waltz. \Vith my arm partly encircling my lovely partner’s
waist, I am soon whirling round the room unconscious now
of but one being. IIer small moccasined feet tread softly
as those of a. gazelle. Her hair, black as jet, falls upon 'her
shoulders in thick curls. Her face is of a type but rarely
witnessed. Her eyes are of a deep blue, her mouth and nose
finely chiseled, her eyebrows finely arched, and her com-
plexion rather inclined to be dark. I

I I felt as if I could dance on, on, and never tire, with her
for a. partner. But alas ! again the music ceased, and I was
forced to reluctantly conduct her to a seat. Tompkins was
not there. This pleased me, for. it gave/me an opportunity
to chat :1 shoi't time with my lovely companion. 7

“ I see Mr. Tompkins has disappeared,” were my first.
words. ‘.‘ Is he a friend of yours ?” I ventured to inquire.

“Of mine ?” said she, with a light laugh. “ Ohl no. He
is but an old acquaintance of papa’s, who has come out here
to purchase land, I believe.” -.

\Ve were about to continue the conversation, when to my
vexation the Londoner approached.

Not wishing to appear discourteous before the young girl, ~ '

Irosc from my seat; and, after wishing her good-evening,
1131 the room. I had no desire to stay there any longer. She
«was the only one I cared to dance with, though there were
other titres—many of them—that were beautiful. as well as
hers. When I reached the door, I looked backward over
,my shoulder. Minnie was looking at me, in her eyes an
expreSsion I was at that time unable to fathom. The
Ltindoner noticed the look, and I saw—or fancied I saw-
an expression of hatred and jealousy upon his features. I
_ looked to see if St'. Pierre was in' the room. He was not. '

Ipassed into the open air. A short distance from the

door quite a crowd had gathered. They. were mostly trappem.

But [in that.

    

  

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m roman ron'r’s QUEEN.

   

ind were conversing in a low, undertone. St. Pierre, I saw
'was one of the number. ’ ‘ .
“ Waugh l boyees, I’ll stake this old rifle o’ mine ’gainst a
_ beaver’s hide thet they’ll be hyar ufore mornin’. When In‘
‘ juns is on the war-path they ain’t slow, I reckin.” '
The speaker was the trapper, Bill Price.
“ But they’ve thar squaWS along, eh ‘3” said another voice.
. .“ ’Ees; I seeld ’em myself.”
‘ “ What is the matter?" I inquired, approaching my friend.

“ Why,” said he, in an anxious tone, “ it is reported that
one or two hundred Sioux are comingthis way ; and I fear
another outbreak is brewing among them. In that case,”
. he continued, “ it will not. be safe for us to start for N arcane.
. We shall have to stay where we are for a few days, I ‘ \

fear.“ , -
.1“ Wal,” said the trapper, Price, in reply to the last speaker,
v “ because they’ve got that squaws along don’t. count fur much.
r What. could be more easier than fur ’em to drop the weemin-
‘ in the Woods, when‘~they begin the fight?” i ‘ ‘

“ True,” t'eplied'one who had up to this time taken no part
in the conversation, and whose appearance showed him to
be a 'personage of no' small account in the village; “the
thing was done at Detroit, and is quite as likely to occur
. here." ' ' ,
j' y, The speaker was, I afterward learned, Pierre Lorraine—-
father of Minnie. ,

“ You think, then, Bill," asked Major Maurice, who was
among the crowd, “ that the Indians will hold a cont‘erence‘
t with us before they commence hostilities?" \

r - “ Snrer’n shootin', major.” 2
.f. - “ Well, them”, continued the major, “ it will be better to
send at once to Fort Snelling (or a small detachment of
‘23 soldiers. The present garrison is hardly strong enough for
' any very flirmidable uprising."
“Waugh! an’ of yer takes this child’s advice," said Price,
“ ye’lvl hev the hull of the villagers take up quarters in the fort
at once. As I said store, I don‘t think tbnr‘s any reason to be'_
scared fur a day or two yit, but it’s always best, I reckon, tobo
jg on the safe side“ At any rate, the l‘ed~skins ’ll be hyar
 _ atom mnin’, whetherjhey intend tofight at onset. orrnot

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r x ‘ 88 noun.“ moccasin ; on,

Injins. allure travel on a moonlight night, efitheir bush. =h ~
7 important." ' . ' , 055
“Right, Bill,” said Lorraine; “your advice .shallbe acted ’ 9
upon.” _ ‘ mi;
. if i

\ CIIAPTERVI‘I. _ ‘ i1“
somnnr nocensm. '- :m

_ AND now commenced a scene of noise and confusion. Orv { 1‘“

ders were sent to the villagers that it would be the safest plan Pa
for them to at once quit their cabins, and take up their quar- ' m
ters in the fort, until the supposed storm had blown over. 6118' re
ofthc trappers, selected on account of his superior skill and tb

cunning, had been dispatched by the major to Fort Snelling to ' ' *« 3',

acqmint the commander there how matters stood, and/at :the 3“

same time solicit another detachment of troops. 3 a"

It was getting late, all of the villagers, with the exception \ 3'5

r of those at the dance, having gone to their beds. But these ‘

were soon aroused, and commenced hurrying toward the fort, E, 5‘

taking only what they would need during their imprisonment ‘ I b‘

with them. ' , *iL.

' The noise caused those participating in the dance to camel ‘
outside and learn the cause. . They knew in a single moment,
and in the space of of five minutes not one remained in the
room, even the violinists having decamped. Among the last
to leave was [Tompkins and his partner—the lovely Minnie. '1
saw her face plainly, as she passed, and her look had a kind
of despondency about it that I knew not what to‘ attribute it

to.‘ She passed without seeing me. I was standing in the J a

,1 shadow of the building. To my joy, they had not proceeded

far when I saw Lorraine approach them. He uttered a few;

words to the Londoner, then led his daughter toward/the fort.

I watched them until they disappeared—watched '71» at

least ' .
“ Our horses and oxen .Were driven within the stockade. AI, ,'
tor .the wagons, they wouldhave to remain wlrere they were. 

Skis was any thing but gratifying. shouldxhedndhu ;

. \ v 1 \

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run Former son'r’s gum.
I

. “tack us, our goods would be destroyed at once. I mentioned
i this fact to my friend, and he smilingly replied that in such a
’ case our journey would be useless. ' l
‘ ‘ I thought, though I did not say so, far differently. True, I
' might be a loser by the expedition, in one sense, but in another,
if the resolve I had umde"suceeeded, I would take back with
i ‘me that which I could value more than all the wealth of the
" Indies—the flower of the forest—the lovely Silver Leaf. Si!
5. var Leaf! I did not wonder that the red-men called hel
' _ that! . v
k At last the noise and confusion were over. The villagers
:fwere all within the fort, those that remained outside being
~ hunters and trapper-s, besides a few traders. I, too, might
"have entered the fort, but I knew that to sleep would be an
i impossibility. Besides that, there was another object I had in
r remaining awake. Several of the trappers—Bill Pride among
the number—were going to meet the coming Sioux, and keep
‘ ., a. close watch on all their movements. Of course they would
1 take care to keep out of sight, and should the Indians betray
f any feeling of hostility, it would be reportedlat the fort as soon
x as possible. ‘ .
I \ “ Waughiu said one of the trappers, as they prepared to
3 start, “ it‘s no use fur the hull lot 0’ us to keep in a clump. It’s
4 ;' best to sep‘rate, sez I." - -
_ 1 "Right, hoyee. I cottons to you. We can’t miss 'em
‘ T.“ then.” r
 ,» I was ever fpnd of adventure. It has always been'with me
, "'Ia‘seco/ud nature. I asked the trapper, Bill, if he had any o_b-
 jections to my accompanying him.’ He replied that he had
' . none; on the contrary, he seemed pleased at the question, and
‘ intimated that he would show me “suthin’ o’ 8. little 'wood
...m‘nft."_ » . .é
' - I had left my ride in the fort, in theroom occupied by the
major. Bidding the trapper wait for me, I ran to fetch it;
' ,and in less than five minutes I stood beside him again. We
gaplunged into the forest, our course lying~ toward the north;-
West.‘ This;.my companion informed me, was the point from ‘
which we might expect the Sioux to appear. After a walk of
‘ utthroe miles, we reached: widestremn, some minor tri-’
't'sryigt the St. Peter‘s. At the point wherepwe approached 5

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it the bank was lowvand flat. We kept along “the bank, which
presently commenced to grow higher and higher, until it Acame
, to a. clifl‘ some fifty feet above the surface'of the yater. Here, 4
V w my campanion told me, we were to halt. ’ . v l-
. “ Do ’ee see that ’ar bank on t’other side?” asked he, point- 
- iug to the other side of the stream. ' ' 

' As the full moon yet shone in' a. cloudles sky. I could see 
it distinctly. The bank was low, and covered with clumpl 
‘~ of willow. The forest commenced some hundred yards be- ; -
yond. V i _
“ Wal,” continued the trapper, “the reds '11 pass along 
I that.” , ’ 7
[No better place could have been selected te/wuteh them, I I:
" ' r thought We would be at least fifty feet above them, and, ’t
' without been seen by them, could count their number and wit- ’
ness their movements plainly. I suggested to my companion,
who stood silently leaning on his rifle, the propriety of canoes} .5
ing ourselves in the bushes. ' ,

“ Waugh! no, young teller,” he said, shaking his head,

' " “that ’ud never do.” I r‘ '

 

“ Why not?” I inquired. . 6 p . I I I
“ ’Case it’s this Child's oPeeflyun that some 0’ the reds might.
‘ I take it il’to thar beads to walk on this side 0’ the orik. I’ve

seen the thing did More.”

‘f But I understood you that we were to stay here,”

“ We won’t go far away, I reckon. Thar-'11 be our hidin’~‘. 
place. We can caché thar ’ithout bein’ the least bit scared ‘ "
about bein’ see’d. I‘ve wels’i thar many a time store this};

‘As he spoke, the trapper pointed to an immense oak not
over ten yards from us. It was the largest free I had ever
seen. A glance upward at its thick foliage she/wet! me the.»
when once astride one of its branches, it would be impossiblt/
for any one to discover us, unless they climbed up it.

At a single word from him, we set about ascending the 

’I scrambled up the trunk, clutched hold of one of the low it-
. mostbranches, and quickly swung- myself estride it. My com-
 panion followed. We kept an ascending until hearly thirtyh
_ . nfeet from the ground, then seated ourselves on one or! that
 largest and most horizontal limbs. Through the foliageg vhf
5 , , ' could. see the'oppmite-rbank plainly {but not our own side;  '

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'1 I foliage below us was too dense 'for that. ,we 'kept perfectly

i silent. It must have been nearly midnight, when, the ‘old

I, trapper-‘5 keen sensm detected the coming of the reds. .

‘3‘ “‘Hish-s—sh l I heerd the tread 0’ some val-mints," he said,

,1 ' in a low voice. I listened attentively. I thought 1 could do- ’

; tect a sound—soft and cat-like. It would appear to cease for ,
a. moment, then become apparent again. It appeared to be
approaching the very tree in which we were concealed. Bill

 ‘was leaning forward, striving to catch every sound, and with

'  ' his small, twinkling eye was endeavoring to pierce through

1",}: some small opening in the dense foliage beneath us.

' " ‘( It’s either one o’ the boyees, or a red-skin,” he said, in a

z t

o

 ‘whisper. .
4,, The author of the noise reached the foot of the tree ; and
’ L. the next moment we heard some one climbing up its trunk. /
' Bill drew forth a hatchet he carrild in his belt, and held it in
' a position ready to strike at an instant’s warning. A dark-
. 5 ‘looking object suddenly became visible among the leaves. It
F was a human form. A slight exclamation from. the trapper
". I caused the other to lookwip. The'face was mostly hidden by ‘
_‘ A thick, black beard. We needed not a second glance to as \
cure us that its owner was white. Quick as Bill saw that face
—-well known to him—he uttered an exclamation of surprise
a and pleasure.
, V “Geehosephat’i Ef that ain’t Scarlet Moccasin, my name
_ ‘ ‘ ' ain’t Bill Price} Kum up hyar,” continued the trapper, be-
' . ,' coming somewhat excited, “ old hoss !"
a" - Scarlet Moccasin ! The name caused me to start I knew
‘_ ~Well’why that name had been given. Around the camp-fire I ,
1 ",‘had ‘often. heard the recital of many a wild deed done by the -’ I
:_ V wearer of a moccasin, which, it was reported, was scarlet. In
"I _ those days the frontier was the home of many a cruel despe-
‘ 3, radio. The red-man feared many of them, but none so much ,
 he who were that dreadful moccasin No one—white or "
5" Jed—saw» him often; his abode was the vast wilderness.
1’ f " He was not long in ascending to where we were, and in
1‘ L taking a seat beside us. He was a man of not more {than
'2 ‘ 'Eifllirtyyearsof/ age, but his statute was almOst gigantic. . His
 'fhoulders were broad, and his arms long and possessed of pm \ m .
S; » strength, Hishair lam jet black, and 1911 in m >

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49 : mmflrxoeom;on,fi

upon his shoulders His beard bid a large part of his features,
but what there were remaining were enough to Show that at
one time he had been extremely handsome. His eyes were

'\ large, black as midnight, and had about them a moumful ex- ’

pression. 'There was something about his Whole expression ‘
that made [me slightly start. I could not shake off the idea
that, sometime or other, I had seen those features bqfore. Where,
‘I knew not. ‘ "

u I glanced down at his feet, with the intention of looking at’.
his moccasins. I could make out their outline, but not their
color, It was too dark for that. I could see, however, that ' '
he wore a. belt, in which were stuck a couple of pistols, a Z
knife, and, instead of a hatchet, a tomahnwk. I had heard f

, that he eopld use this weapon with far more dexterity than
’ any Sioux. ‘
“ Waugh ! boyee,” said Bill, after the greefings between them
were over with. “ Whar hey yer bin this long while? This
. , child, fur one, thort ye’d gone under surcr’n shootin’." .
“Not yet, Bill,” said the other; “and what is more, I
lon’t intend to just yet, either. But what brings you here? _
You have a. friend here, too," he continued, alluding to me. -.
“ Come, Bill, can’t you introduce me '9”
“ In coorse." replied the trapper. “ Mister Montgomery”—- | '
, turning to me— “ nllow me to interduce you to my friend,
Mister Scarlet Moccasin—Flt be dog-goned ef I. knows yer '
other name 1" . , r
“ It does not matter,” said Scarlet Moccasin, turning toward
. me, at the same time extending his hand. “ It is the 'oniy k,
' name which I_huve had for the last ten years.” - I .
The half sorrowful tone in which this was said caused me
to feel a greater interest in him than ever. » ~ 
w ' Scarlet Moccasin repented the question he had first put to. g
' the trapper. ' U - ,3
’ f “ Wail, ’ee,sees, we 1mm hynr to watch fur the comin‘ 9' is;
‘ ,, the reds. It’s supposed they’ve dug up the hatchet :tg’in.‘ L'
‘ . . Leastwise, Luke Stughorn see that a lot 0' ’em ’ll [arrive bym‘ '
I Vto-night.” ( I e. 
» ‘ ’- “They will," said the other. _ “ I left them not more than
‘ ‘ two miles behind—some two hundred of them.“ ' '
' v “Had‘they thar weemin ’long'i"| _ ‘1 > » 1,:

 
    

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 qtfiokly as possible, and acquaint the major. if he had not

; '3. cuin consented, to accompany us, but only as far as the edge
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“ Yes, but that makes “no difference. The‘ squaws can
oasin he sent back when they commence to attack the settle

A meats.” ,

“ Thar’s only two hundred or so altogether, ’ee says 'i"

(L Yes.”

“ Waugh! the major sent fur another lot 0‘ them sky-blues.
Thar’s snough in the settlement to lick that many, eVeu ef,
they war all warriors, ’ithout any help.” 4 l'

“ Very true. But, you forget, Bill, that these are only the
vanguard of thofi that are to come. They will not com-
menCe hostilities until the arrival of their head chief and his
band, Bloody Arm. In order to throw the settlers off their
guard, they intend to sign a new treaty. I learned all this
some few nights ago, while a spy in their camp. But‘it’s‘
time they were here.”

“ Waugh! Lookee yonderl
that’s ’etn."

' The trapper was right. Away on the opposite bank on

, Indian had suddenly debouched from the woods, quickly fol-

‘ lowed by another, then another, Indian fashion, until a longw
string was ‘ formed. As soon as the foremost approached
Within a few feet of the ,stream, he wheeled half-round, and
followed it down. They had not been in sight long, before
we became aware that there were some on our side of the

We could hear the softhat-like tread asthey passed
byhdrowned at intervals by some low, guttural voice. We '

\ watched until the noise had died away, then prepared to des-
cend, ‘ Scarlet Moccasin was the first to do so. He descended

' with as little noise as possible, and when he reached the

ground, tookia careful survey of the vicinity before intbrming '

us that the coast was clear. I was the next. one that reached i

thegrotmd, followed slowly by the old trapper. Poor l‘ellowl

He could ,no longer ascend and descend a tree with the same

agility he once could. .

It‘wasinow the trapper's intention to return to the fort as

43

El‘ this child mistakes not,

“been already inforuted'by one or the other trappers, with the »
enemy‘s—enemies they really were—progress. Scarlet Moe:

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We returned by a different route to that by which we had
I / come, heading directly for the St. Peter's, which we approached
t about a .mile above the village. Scarlet Moccasin nCCom-
. panied us half a mile further, then refused—in spite of the
united entreaties of the trapper null myself—-to go any further.
He seemed to dread the very name of the village. At part-
ing. I shook'his hand, at the same time expressing my regret at ‘
beLng forced to part with him so soon. He smiled. e-
“ We shall meet again, sir,” he said.
.'t Then, without another word, he walker! rapidly away.

By this time the moon was close to the horizon. It would
shortly be dark. We reached the fort; and after Bill had
reported to the major, I left him, and ascended to the para-
pet. The Indians were not long behind us. Presently we
saw them, one after another, enter the clearing, until two ,
hundred of them dotted its surface. Some of them gathered l:
huge urmfuls of brushwood, threw it into a pile, and set fire 
to it. Then all become quiet. The Sioux one and all rolled, 1
themselves in their blankets, and slept. , 
I Leaving the parapet once more to the entire possession of l
the sentry, I descended into the fort. I knew that it was 

 

; high time that I slept. My blanket wns‘in one of the wagon:
outside the stockadc. A few moments sufficed to obtain this:
"then 1 rolled myself in it, lay down in one of the rooms allot-y 
ted to the mule portion of Our own party, and was soon int!!! .
nrms of Morpheus. ‘ ‘ . t

\

CHAPTER'VIII.
A rmrmnn TREATY. ‘ ‘ .y

 
  

   

l

‘ WHEN I awoke it was nearly noon. 
' I looked around, The room was empty, the rest of my .‘
‘ companions having,ar hours ago. I was not long in reach- ‘
‘ ‘ing the outside of the fort. , . , , V ,_ g
l ‘ ‘ The Indians had pitched their wigwmts, and the scene was _ H
( one or exn-emo idlenm Some of the warriors were fittinzin 7 ..

rw .. , 'v .x .' 4/ -' I ‘  \~' - _ ‘ ,v \'.'-
,, ~ v , ., ; , 4‘ - , , ,1 . ,.
,., , 4 . ,, K.  ,U . I ,-,

., [Mfr . ‘2; I V) .I  a K I, 1 ". I  ’ H J A 
- ‘ \ 1‘ f t . . 1'.
'\ mmmvronflqm> \ was...

, it ' hots of threes and fours, smoking their long pipes sud convers-

9 lug with each other, while others lay in front of their wigwarns
at full length on the ground. As for their squaws, they were
busily engaged over a score of fires that were burning in
various parts of the clearing, preparing, doubtless, the perm,
a mixture of maze, wild rice, and finely-chopped venison.

The treaty I conjectured, would not commence until the
afternoon Along the river’s bank, and \near the edge of «he
clearing, ppOSite to that occupied by the Sioux, were groups

' of trappers, hunters, traders and villagers. A few of the
traders keeping guard over the wagons.
I had not been watching the scene long before I noticed
some half dozen of the Indians rise from their seats on the
ground and approach one of the wagons They walked
boldly up to it, and were beginning to raise the oilcloth which
I had been fastened over the top—doubtless with the intention
I, of seeing what lay beneath it—when 0115 of the men who Was
. keeping guard over it repulsed them in no very gentle manner
' I with the butt end of his rifle. I saw the scowl that gathered
' quickly on the Savage’s face..and knew that, unless some
.. one else interfered, there would be trouble. I did not fear
‘f’ for the safety of the guard, for I knew that if the savage
 went too far he would be shot dead on the spot. Wishing to
1', pievent, if possible, any shedding of blood, I approached one

. o the wagons. my own property, and with the blade of my
' hatchet, tore up the covering. I knew that among the goods
_ - were several boxes of beads—always an acceptable article - t
r among Indians. After some seaming, these were found. I ‘
t; drew one of the boxes forth, and attracted the attention of the
 ‘angry savages toward it. I was surrounded in a twinkling. I
I,“ handed each one a string, which they received with grunts of
F“ satisfaction. Then, after. putting them round their necks, they
'._. stalked proudly away. Thus was the threatened quarrel
:3— avertcd. ‘ .,

‘15:: This little transaction had not been without its witnesses—-
E the Indian squaws. Before I had time to replace the box, I ,
in was the center of at least fifty of them, they intimating that ‘

_' ;‘ they wished to come in for a shsre of the trinkets. Now I
" 5’ knew that I was in possession of mgh beads to mpply‘every ’
hdhunin the village, but thn didn’t warrant my distributing ;

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them gratuitously. As I'have said before, I had purchased them
with the intention of trading them for furs. Insignificant as
their cost had been, I‘should lose scores of dollars by the opera
tion; and as I had invested nearly the whole of my capital in
my scheme, the idea of parting with the trinkets on those cheap
terms was not to be entertained. Besides, ,I saw that most of
the squaws already possessed a string—some of them two or
three. But avarice was one of the strongest traits of ’the Sioux \
character, and they wished for more. ‘ ~
3.; However, I distributed what that box contained, by throwing
them among them. Such a scene of scrambling and quarrel-
ing followed that my pen lacks the power to describe it. The
squaws, one and all, ran to secure a portion of the trinkets ‘
each. They rolled over and over each other, all. the while
keeping up a shrill scream, while the warriors sat quietly look-
ing on. A few managed to obtain possession of whale strings,
but they were very few. The rest were only fortunate enough

- to receive ayfew odd ones, which would, doubtless, be used to

ornament some forest belie‘s fawnskin moccasin. '
--'—- '

It was afternoon.
to begin. Already the warriors were making their prepara-
tions for it. So were we, on our side. The ground we were
to occupy was just without the stockade of the fort, and the
Warriors were beginning to take their positions upon it.

As they took their seats, we were struck with the peculiar

" manner which they all seemed to have about them. They

appeared to act like one who has set his mind upon having
something or other, and momentarily expects to hear it re-
fused him. I noticed one of the warriors in particular, a 'mid-
dle aged man, whose dress showed him to be of some conse-
quence among his tribe.
and I asked him if he knew the Indian’s name. He told me ‘
that it was Nashota, the second chief of the Sioux nation:

Bloody Arm, their head chief, was absent, but we knew—what 5

the savages little suspected—that he would appear on, ma mor-
row. , . ‘ ,

The Sioux had formed the arc of a circle, concave to 'that'
of oufs. The fire was kindled, the’calumet filled with  kim-

p

      

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uan

Soon it would be time for the council“ 6

t. -_..J,

St. Pierre was sitting next to me, ., I

max '5'“ -
,, a.

   

kinic"—the inner bark of the red willow+eand the “smoke”? 

 
 

 

 

 

 

‘ THE FOREST ‘ron'r's QUEEN. r 4'!
that inv 'ably precedes an Indian council commenced. A few
whiifs wer first taken by the chief, who then passed it to the

- next warrior at his right. He in turn passed it as soon as he
had taken. a few whifl‘s to the next; and so on until it came
to us. Like the savages, we each took a whiff or two, and

I, passed it quickly from mouth to mouth.

 5 ' During the time occupied by this, I had taken a. careful

l survey of our own party. We outnumbered the savages ’by

nearly twenty. I noticed among the number the mnjOr, Lor-

raine and Bill Buck. I looked to see if thc Londoner was

there. No, he was not. On making this discovery, I felt a

choking sensation stealing over me. Where was he ? Within
i the fort, doubtless, in the company of her—of Minnie. The
I} thought tortured me. ’ '

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, But the smoke was ended, at length. and the council be-
g; gun. The first speaker was the chief, Nushotu.
L “Pale-faces! it is now many moons since the warriors
of the Sioux nation have come from a. long distance to hold
;_ a few words. and smoke the pipe of peace with their white‘
g brethren. Since last we were here, more than one change
f has taken place. The forest is now no longer the home of
' the Sioux—it has been shared with the pale-face. ‘
i “His children are thick as the leaves of the trees, and
they trample already upon the graves of our forefathers
— ,without a thought of whose ashes are beneath their feet,
" ,~But do we grumble at this? Do we wish to again claim the
, ‘ land? No; we have no right to it. I have spoken."

The old hypocrite sat down. Fair as the words seemed,
there was more than one of us that saw the motive that lay
h ' beneath them. Yes, subtle as were. the savages, there were
\ many on our side that were their equals in cunning. The
,next speaker was Lorraine. His speech Was short, and to
the point. 

“Sioux! your chief says tlmt you have come hither for
the ‘purpose of strengthening still more the bond of peace
 1that has now existed for many moons between the red-men « .
'i - , nndthe white. We would gladly believe you, but it is ini- 

‘ -u',mb1e.” ' '

, ' ~ . ‘ ' _ /
v I “ Impossible t’? exclaimed several of our enemies, who well

tr -:lrnglprstood the meaning‘of the word.

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I ,' “‘Yu,” repeated Lorraine; “ impossible." ,

“Do the pale-faces, then, believe the words of our chief
to be like the tongue of the serpent, crooked i" asked one of h,
the savages, an orator among his tribe. "‘If so, let him '
speak. We are ready to listen.” '

“ “he have received infornmtiou,” continued Lorraine, with- E
out seeming to heed the quesuon, i“ that the Sioux have again 3 ‘
decided to dig up the hatchet; and we feel that such is the 
truth.” I

The words produced an efléct upon the savages difficult ,.
to describe. There were fierce looks of guilt, hatred and 
vengeance passed between them. They snw that they would i
‘ not be able to accomplish what they hnd plainly intended to; ‘
that is, lull the suspicion of the whites. and therefore secure ’
’an easier and more successful “coup.” Instead of the air .7.
 of meekness and submission which they had endeavored

’ to assume before, their looks-and actions now became, to a ‘ '

certain degree. bold and defiant. Had they been in tire

I! I majority, they would not have hesitated 3 single moment to
try the fortune of a battle. But they were not; and they ,
I all knew that they must make the best of the situation, and. E
patiently await the arrival of their head chief, Bloodly Arm,
and his band. . '
» There was only one among them that did not seem to
lose his ground. That was the chief, Nas'Jota. 1‘ , _

“How did the pale-faces’ informer receive his informa- 1
tion ?" he asked, rising to his feet. ' \

“By one who was a spy in their camp. The red-men  »
knows him well."‘ .x

“ His name,” demanded several. , ‘ i

“ I will tell you,” said Lorraine. " It is Scarlet Masada.” w
'» At the mention of that terrible name, it produced another 1‘ f.
' ‘ effect upon the Sioux, but this time different from the last. ‘ .

New their looks became fearful, and not a few were seen to l;
involuntarily shudder. Anxious glances were cast around, at i}.
lf to discover whether the dreaded bearer of the name was 

/ upon the ground. ‘ , . ‘ .
This ended ‘the council. The “Wages knew they could
(accomplish nothing then, and that filrther parley was useless;
‘1) c ' After a' few more uninteresting sentencesithcy rose from their

 

    
   
 

 

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33

FORT’B QUE“.

seats, and returned crestfnllen to their Wigwams on the oppo-
u'te side of the clearing.

“ Waugh l" exclaimed one of the truppers, as soon as they
“I‘ve see'd a. heap o’ Iujin in
my time, un’ a wiekeder lot I never sot eyes on More.”

“ I hope,” said Major Maurice, “ that the troops from Fort

Smelling will arrive here before Bloody Arm. I am afraid
we shall have a hard time of it if they do not.”
C H A P T E R I X .
A mscavmur. \

AGAIN it was sunset.
I had wandered down to the river’s bank, seated myself be.
neath at Willow that was growing a few feet from the water‘s

' edge, and was engaged in the contemplation of the scene

before me, when something [startled me. It was the sound
of "voices. I looked in the direction from whence they came.
Standing at a distance of several rods from me were two
'persons-—the Londoner and Minnie. I watched them eagerly.
They could not see me, for I “ma perfectly concealed by [file
willow. She held in her hand it puddle.
from their actions that they had not left the fort together, but.
that oue—he—hznl. followed the other. Her look was tiny
thing but on agreeable one. . '
.' “ Ila! ma denw Minnie,” said Tompkins, “ shewly yaw are
not going to cwoss this rivnw alone ‘2" ' »
“And why not '2” asked the young girl. “I have often
done so before.” ' . ~' .
s “Aw l wenlly i If yazv’ve no objections to my company,
'aw should like to go ucwoss with yaw,” .
“ None,” was the low response.
I saw by the manner in which irwns said, that it wassdd
’ unwillingly. I felt niy henrt lenpwith delight.

' 'He stood‘ul‘on the bank, wliile’she approached: clam} of.

1"“??9 t“ 

Ml.l)lghl  canoe. ‘ Show motioned

It; was evident

 
   

  

   

 
 

semen-r account; on, , ,

' . the Londoner to get. in. I watched his‘ motions with eager

    
   
  
   
  
 
 
 
   
  
   
   
    
  
 
 
 
    
   
 

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4 interest. Well I knew that to get seated in one of those frail I
' vessels requires no small amount of skill. The Englishman ' ‘¥

seemed to be unaware of the fact, for he approached the canoe
I with the same boldness that. he would have done had it been 7’ ‘v
,» a ship’s boat in which he was about to embark. I saw at-
once what. the sequel would be. He had scarcely stepped in-
side, when the light crnit tipped sideways, and he was precipi-
iuted into the water, The water was two feet deep, and the,
consequence was, he became wet from head to foot. His fine i
‘suit of broadcloth became instantly saturated, of course. To
pity him was impossible. I felt that he wasjustly punished
for intruding his company where it was not wanted. After
‘ some floundering about, he managed to regain his feet, and
' then the bank. His appearance was indeed ludicrous and
crestfallen. He managed to stamtner out an apology, then
commenced making tracks for the fort, there to exchange his -. '
costume for a more comfortable one. , . i‘
I lookednt the young girl’s face. I thought I could dc?
, sect a stnile upon it. \ 5
The canoe had shipped a email quantity of water by the
accident, but she drew the vessel upon the bank, and emptied
it with the ease and dexterity of n practiced hand. Pushing
it back into the water, she entered it,pnddle in hand, and took
It'seat in the stern. With a. few strokes of her paddle, she "»
was out in the stream and heading for the opposite shore. '
'What could be her object? I could not guess. unless she
was intending to meet some one. Again bitter feelings begin
, k; creep into my heart as I entertained the thought. .
But she had not left the bank long, before I saw another »
canoe leave the shore, but at u. greater distanCe down the
stream? It was getting dark, but I knew the occupant of that
canine at a glance. It was St. Pierre! ) . * ‘ ,
On making this discovery/impulse brought me to my feet,
0, it was not—it could not be that. I had also, a riyal in .'
‘St. Pierre. It was during our stay in Now Orleans that i
’ he‘had told me of the mistlu-tune that had attended his first
_" ’nfl‘ection, and that he had sworn neVer to place them." on
another woman as long as he lived! I remembered, this;
. r m then-«Tiny [ceilings toward him becameicss bitter. 'That (in,~ / __ ,z,

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"V .1 'ttot yet'isnded ; but they; were making preparations to do so;

run FOREST rjon'r’s gum.

I had imparted to him, as a friend, the love I felt for Minnie
_ Lorraine, and he had not given me the slightest cause to sus-
pect that he, too, loved her.

_ I watched them both with feelings too intense to describe.
They had liow neared each other. He was paddling withmu
energy that sent the canoe over the water like an arrow ; she
only (tipped her paddle occasionlly. In a few seconds they
Would be alongside each other. ‘ \
All at once, a wild impulse seized me. Why could I, too,
not cross the river, and thus learn the object of the meeting
1 between the two? I knew that there were plenty of canoes
7 in the village, and as it was getting rapidly dark,I could
' veross over at some distance up the stream without danger of
being perceived by either of the parties in question. I re-
solved to do so, and without further delay. ‘
I knew where were kept a. quantity of paddles; and before
long I was in possession of one. A few rods from the edge ‘
of the opening, on the left side as you approached the river,
was a small creek, in which were some half-dozen canoes. I
selected one of the lightest, embarked, and after a few strokes,
had debouched from the mouth of the creek, and was crossing

a 7 r the river with all possible speed. I knew that, unless my pade '

dle should snap, I would not be many moments behind those
They had not yet landed. St. Pierre
had caught up with, and was only letting his canoe glide. for-
ward with the same speed as hers. I marked well the point; '
for which they were heading, and directed my own canoe so

. as to touch the bank at some distance above. ‘
The river, at this point, was some two miles wideyand by

the time I reached the opposite shore, it was quite dark. As
yet, the moon had not risen. When under what would have
been the shadow of the bank, had it been day time, I turned
- the bow of the canoe half-round, and headed down-stream. I ' I
shot over the water like an arrow, and as noiselesst as a. fish. 
After continuing on in this manner for some distance, I knew
that I must be approaching the spot where St. Pierre and Min.

hie had landed. Accordingly, I slackcned my speed. A mo- , " ’

ment later I sighted, though very indistinctly, the two canoes, F
jeand what was more, their occupants. The latter, then, had . ‘

I \s

 
 

  
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
    
  
 
   
 
    
  
    
      
     

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a .53 I ‘ , soma'r xocmsm, on,‘

St. Pierre’s was the first canoe that touched the bank, but he '~ “0‘
was followed quickly by the young girl. Both‘ sprung on ‘1‘“

shore, drew their canoes half upon the shore, and together as- ' I
‘ eended the bank. bro
I was not long in following their example. ' 3t“

Once on shore, I knew that I could get quite close to the‘ ‘73"

‘ \arties without danger of being discovered. I crept forward ffl“

On my hands and knees, through the thick brushwood that .‘9

, covered the ground, until I could distinguish through the "S

I thick gloom the outlines of my friend and his lovely compan- '
., * ion. I was now close enough to hear all that might be said;

therefore I did not trouble myself about creeping any closer. Sr
When my eye first fell upon them, they were standing up,

but a moment later both seated themselees on what appeared \

i

l

3223

to me like the trunk of a fallen tree .

“ Well, Minnie,” I heard the cheery voice of St. Pierre say,
“ so you wished to speak to me, did you? What can it be
shout, my dear girl?”

W, at any rate, was not the voice of a lover, I knew.

“ Yes, M. St. Pierre,". said she ; “ I wished to speak to you
upon something of, to me, the deepest importance."

/ “ Hal ‘ Well, my little Silver Leaf—your Indian name, you '

know—I’m ready to listen. But I think I can guess What it
. ’ ,h”

“ What is it, then, M. St. Pierre '1’”

“ Why, this. You wish me to find you a husband.”

He accompanied these words with a peal of laughter that
echoed again and again through the woods. I listened anx-
iously for the reply. * , .
 ‘ “ N 0,” said she, “ I wish to speak of my brother.” 1
‘ .. ’ The solemn tone in which these few words were uttered IN
'Ieaused the mirth of my friend to come to a sudden stop. ' 

' “‘ Your brother, Minnie P” be said, in a low, serious (one

“ Pardon my jesting., But tell me, since it is of your brother ,

,,that you wish to speak, have you seen him i" « ',
“ No, monsieur; I have not seen him for ten long, long
V . years, though he has often been near the village. Even to:

_ 'day I learned that only last night he was seen by, Bill Price ; '
 m Mrr—z/WW” ' ' . ;  s
" ' “th! you mean Harry? Yes,Minnie, he mentioned the .  

'» \ / ’ . - r 

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’, 1’ - m mans'r rom‘s QUEEN. 53
t in fact to me to-day, though. he knows not, of course, that seal-let
‘ on  Moccasin is your brother.” »

r as. " Hal Scarlet Moccasin and Minnie Lorraine were, then,
brother and sister! Now I remembered» why I had been so
struck with the features of the man the night before, though I
was not able to tell exactly why. Yes, his nose, the curve of ,

  
  

ard «the eyebrow, the expression of the eye—although the color ‘
hat .was different—were hers. But the conversation has begun

the Igaim, V ‘

m. ,‘ , “ And‘you wish to see him I?” asked St. Pierre. * t
d - " “ I (11-. Chi mousieur, if you knew how lonely I am! If

. , my brotuer would only give up the life he now leads, and
1p, come and live with us, I should feel so happy! My father
seldom takes any notice of me, for he is always yearning for
'my brother’s return. He was his favorite.” .
“ And what would you have~me do, Minnie ?”
“ I would have you try all in your power to see my brother
_'-—for I know he will stay near the village, now there is dan-
ger of another outbreak—and ask him, implore him to either"
return/home, or to let me see him once again, even if it be
but a single moment. He was but a young man when I saw
‘him last, and oh ! monsieur, how he must have changed l"
“I will, Minnie," said St. Pierre, touched by the appeal.
“I will; though I am afraid it will be useless. You know
the fierce oath he took—never should his father, mother or sis-
ter look upon his face again, until he had been most terribly
revenged l”
“I know it, M. St. Pierre, but oh, God! he must have
.7 ,kept his vow long ago i”
“ Perhaps so. Let us,hopc for the best."
“ Yes, for I feel certain you will succeed. But, M. S}.
{ Pierre, this friend of yours, Mr. Montgomery, is he married ‘:' - '
“ Married ! Silver Leaf, no. But why do you ask '9" , ‘ "
“ Only out of curiosily. But I feal'he is displeased with
me." /
-“ Why i" , v
_ '«-“Lnst night. we were inlrmluced. He danced only once ~
 during the u‘linl': evening —lll:ll was with me--lhen he left ‘ J
" f:\ Ihe’moxn. Curious, M., St. Pierre; was it not '1’" ‘ - '
' ‘  I“ Ha! , Silvur Leaf. my friend is curious. about some

      
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
      

      
       
     
   
     

    
  

       
 

 
 
 
  

\

i v ' ~ MHe felt jealous of your companion. the Londoner."

, o 
v. v ,r /

 

    

' i t
’ SCARLET “OCCASIN; on,

However, I know the reason why he left the room.

     
    
  
         
     
    
 

,things.

“ Jealous l M. St. Pierre," exclaimed she.

“ Yes. Minnie, he loves you."

“ You jest, monsieur.”

“ No, Minnie, I am in earnest.
least, hinted as much.”

“ I believe you. Well then, monsieur, if to think con-
Itantly of one, to, wish him to be always near you, and to
have hisimage on your mind as well as if yea; had known him
for years is to love, then I bee him. But, M. St. Pierre? I have
told you this as a friend. Breathe not a single word of what
I have said to Mr. Montgomery.” t

“ Oh l” said my friend, with a light laugh, “ if he is sharp,
he will find it out himself.” .

It is impossible. to depict the wild transports of bliss that
filled my soul on learning that my affection was returned". I
would gladly have jumped up, and made the forest iring with
shouts of joyl ’

I now felt heartily ashamed at having played the eaves-
dropper, but as it was now late to retreat, I was forced to ,
maintain the position I sustained. ' .

But it was growing late, and the two at last arose to take their
departure. I could now see their movements plainly, for the
moon was just clearing the edge ot the horizon. I watched ,
them until they had embarked, and were far out in the,
stream, before I thought of returning myself.

CHAPTER X.
A TALE

I was about to rise from my position, and réturn to the
canoe I had taken care to conceal, when my eyes happened
to wander toward the spot occupied by St. Pierre and Min-

nie, a few moments before. To my surprise, I heheld‘the, ,f :
' figured a man, standing motionless as a status. The dress,

\ , r
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<1;
He told me’s:—-or,st 
i

on WRONG. ‘ / ~_

     
  
 

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rum FOREST yronw’s queen.
5, the face, the every thing about him were not to be mistaken.
v.11 was Scarlet Moccasin .’ ‘

/

\ ‘1'. So unexpected was his" appearance, that my heart seemed
toleap almost into my mouth. He maintained the motion-
“* tress posture in which I had discovered him fora few moments

‘k‘, longer; then he took a few steps forward. His gaze became
 fixed on the retrenting‘canoe, now far out in the stream.

9

3' ., “ Yes, sweet sister,” he said, loud enough for me to ‘hear
'0  him, ‘V‘I have often heennear you, when you little suspected
 9 it. So you long for my return? Well, your longing shall
a I soon cease. Soon, I shall have completed my revenge, and
it  men we will depart’far from these wild scenes! Sweet sis-
? fer, wait 1”

' At“ this juncture, I happened to place my hand on a dry

stick, which snapped under the pressure. It was enough for
E , the sharp cars of the hunter; and I saw him start, and look

' /quickly in the direction of the hush which concealed me.
Fearing that he would raise his rifle and fire, I cried out:
, “ Hold! It’s I, Scarlet Moccasin 1"

At the same instant I rose, and stepped toward him.

“ Hal Mr. Montgomery, it is you? It is perhaps fortunate
that you spoke, as I was about to risk a. chance shot toward
you.” , ,
He grdsped my hand, givingit a gentle squeeze—the never-
'. i'fuiling Sign of a true, generous and passionate heart!
already looked upon him as a friend. No wander; the wall
B one of that happy class of individuals with whom a friendship
_, -' is sodn formed, or else never.

7

‘

' i‘ , ‘ “ Well, monsiour,” he said, with a smile, and releasing my
\ ‘5 hand, “it seems that you, as well as I, have been playing the
1 lavesdropper r’ s
'K

1

“ Yes," said I, “ but you were acting in the capacity of o
z/' I _ ~ n
brother,and had it right to. As for me—
‘ “ You were in, the capacity of a lover. I see well, mom _
’ r'eieur, how the case stands. Believe me, I am not offended.
.—; Ilienrtl my sister‘s declination. '

 

   

  
  
  

éwduld you not like to learn something more ofwme—fher'
V brother? Doubtlese you” have: heard something or; 1119,1133 .
me? . ’ ‘ ‘ ‘ »

  

 

1‘.

‘ "“But," he continued—and his brow became clouded-r,

  

 
  
 

   

scam-r uoecssm , on '-

    
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
    
 

“ I have," I answered, “ but never really knew whether or .
not to place any reliance on it. But why do you ask the
question i?” ' '

,{ “ Because it is but fair that you should know something
definite about the only brother of her whom you profess to
love. Some have given me hard names.” '

“ That makes no difference to me,” I replied. “ You might
be a fiend incarnate—she the personification of every thing

.I that is noble and good i"

' “True! Listen, then, to a short history of my life."

We each took a seat on the trunk of the fallen tree, and

my newly-nude friend commenced : L

“You have ever heard me called, I suppose, Scarlet Mecca. 1,
sin? My real name is Robert Lorraine. All my life has not, '
as many who know me suppose, been passed in the forest. My

father was formerly a merchant in one of the leading Eastern, .

cities, but when Iwas in my twenty-first year, he became a ‘1

bankrupt. He determined to come out West, and for a time,

we'lived in St. Paul. I and Minnie, of course, came with him. '9

,But there was another who accompanied use—a, fair being whomr, .

I loved better than any one else on earth. ‘ I had known her

for a long time, and when it became known that I was to

come West, I can not tell you how she wept, and implored me

y not to go without her. Oh ! monsieur, I did not show it,rper-

/ \haps, but my heart suffered as intensely with the thought 01-, VI
parting from her, perhaps forever, as did hers. No, I would
- \rather have died than have left her.

4! ‘ “ I was not much past twenty, and she was not quite eigh:
teen, but we were accordingly married. Mother she had none,‘
and her father, feeling outraged by her conduct, refused to '
own her. But, knowing my love for her, she cared little, and -

z ' I week after our-marriage we started for St. Paul. ]L

“ A year of happiness soon passed. My own sweet, darling V
{wife was now dearer to me than ever. But, fortune willed é
it that I should leave St. Paul, and cum'e to New Salem. if
Heavens! monsieur, that move was the cause of my life’s ,heing  .\
‘; blasted! It was against my father’s wishes that I left SQ; ,'

,tl Paul, who wished me to still continue with him. But I ‘
7 4 heeded not his advice.” , i I. - . ,; ,
‘ L, Here, for a few moments, the speaker remained silent, I  3-4

x ‘ . V /

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7“ m rower rom’a gum. ,'

‘cmotions were too intense to permit him to proceed. But at
fleet, with a. mighty effort, he recovered himself.
I “ At that period,” he: continued, “ New Salem consisted of

.' ‘but two or three families, and a few soldiers who garrisoned

fthe fort. They were in constant dread of the Sioux, and, poor
creatures, God knows they had cause 1 One morning, late in

‘ the fall of the year, I started for a day’s visit to St. Paul. I

,hated, for some unaccountable reason, to leave my darling

_behind. but neccessity compelled me.
“her be of good cheer until my return, mounted my horse,

V and rode 03‘. Once, before I had passed from her sight, I '

tinned round and looked back. She was gazing after me
with tearful and sorrowful eyes. The sight caused me to bring
‘my'horse to a sudden stand-still. Then I wheeled him\ round,
find galloped back to the cabin. She looked surprised, but
{did not speak until I had dismounted, and clasped her to my
tbs-east.

9‘ ‘ Oh 1 Robert,’ she said, ‘ for some unaccountable reason, I
feel very, very unhappy.’

“Alas, so did I, but I did not utter my feelings, knowing
Hhat it would only increase her unhappiness. Again I tore
dnyself away from her, mounted my horse once more, and rode
paway at a gallop. That time Ldared not look back.

I lingered not a moment. But

exile, and started for home.
I was tortured constantly with

f.did I reel happy? No!

, ‘dreadful forebodings. Well, monsieur, when I reached what

should have been my home, I saw in its stead a heap of yet

panicking ashes. The rest of the cabins, and the fort, were
’ still there. My home, only, had suffered. Why, I never

' (deemed.

I comprehended the scene at a single gllnce. Th1
«deadly Sioux it was who had been there, with his firebrand,
,ibowand tomahawk. ’
5-.  “ Then I made a vow, which ‘I solemnly swore to keep—I
fswore that I would seek the fiends that had ruined me, and
ethatvone and all should suffer a miserable death. Subsequently
 learned the ‘full particulars, from y a friendly Indian, of my

 

"\l'wau rt paw
.1

 Rose's death. I learned that the very night following the

:. Iv! I'

 

'. I: _ 3".

I kissed her, bade *

F? “ I reached St. Paul, transacted my business as soon as possi- '

(of my departure, five of the fiendswen'yomy _ V ..
wmnomhorteamdmnmm momma _,
r'    ,\ ,/

      
 
 
 
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
     
  

  

    

     
 

  
  
   
   
 
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
  
   
 
      
       
   
 
  

  

soA'RLE'r noboAsm ; on,

then rapidly disappeared before the garrison had time to inc jg;
iterfere. They compelled their poor captive to follow themél’
on foot. She kept up with them for three days. Then do- I"
, x , clared her inability to go any further. One of the wretches— 4."
I consider him, monsieur, the most humane of the lot-’-toma-
’hawkcd her on' the spot. ' g h

“ This was told me three days after her death. I found her «ii
body. It lay there just as it had fallen; and I dug a shallow P'
grave with my hatchet, and buried her in it. Then I exchanged 3“
my dress of cloth for one of buckskin, and took to the woods. 9‘
I swore that I would never again enter the habitation of a 1118.117"1
until I had been most terribly revenged. In order to gain _

a. name by which the wily savage would know and’ fear me,

I dyed'one of my moccasins—the left one—a deep scarlet.
Hence my name!" '_ ,
As he spoke he held up his left fc at. The clear light of F”
the moon enabled me to see it distinctly. It was, as I had of- 5 *
ten heard, scarlet. . _ 
“ And your enemies,” said I, eager to hear the rest, “are they?‘ 
all dead ‘2" ~ ’0
“ All but one, and he, too, shall soon be no more. It is I
their chief, Bloody Arm. At the time of the occurrence I have 
just related, he was but a young warrior. I could have shot 6
him over and over again, but that death would have'been t00‘ ‘
' ' easy for him. I wish to take him alire. As for the other four, 
one I hung by the neck, two I hung by the thumbs until ex— st
haustion and hunger killed them, and the fourth I fastened::'
to the trunk of a tree, and let him stawe to death. _ “I
“ Nor is this all. How many savages I have shot, I know“, »‘
not. I have pierced them by their camp-fires, and on several, ‘5‘
, occasions Rave appeared suddenly in the midst of many a vil-je,
’ kge in the middle of the day. Win as they are. I have eve
managed to elude them. But, monsieur, I have finished when. '
I say that I shall soon, God willing, quit these cruel scénes for}
these of a more civilized community. I have played the def
‘mon long enough 1” i l
“ Monsieur," I said, as he concluded, “ Ivdo not now wonder. ;

at your conduct Those who do, monsieur, know not your”
history. If they did, like me, they would blame you. "
“must”, . J ' _ . l. ‘ '

K

 

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tn, :5 The words evidently pleased him, for he slightly smiled.
3m; 1 “ And,” I continued, “ you say that your sister shall soon see

10. you again? - With your permission, monsieur, I will be the

,. t‘benrer‘of the news.” 1 ,
,8. “ Yes, But pardon me,” said Scarelet Moccasin, rising from

his seat, “ I am keeping you. It must be quite late."

,e, \. Accompanied by my newly-found friend, I once more ap-

)w lproachcd the river, and drew forth my canoe from its conceal-

ed' pent. I then again embarked. My friend refused to ac-

35 company me, and I left him on the bank—motionless as I

“- ItItue of marble.
F

in
l6". *—
5L5

or?” ‘ CHAPTER XI.
uf- ‘

AN ENCOUNTER IN THE WATER. ,\

3f  ON the opposite shore could be plainly seen the campfires
bf; the Sioux, which threw their lurid glares far out into the
i, Itream. It was for these that I headed.

,0 z. I knew that it must be late, and I accordingly used the pad-
03 Edle with all my energy. When about in the center of the
,o "rirer, to my vexation, the paddle suddenly snapped. Before I
15 )md time to grasp the blade, the canoe shot by it, leaving-no-
pthing in my hands but the now worthless handle. Here was
’13,! dilemma. The stream was very rapid at that point, and
fins beginning to hear me rapidly down it. Suddenly, I remem- \
.bered that not more than a mile below were the rapids, and

     

 

w
al {this only increased the difliculty I was in.
1." I“ What should I do? I scarcely know. There appeared to

      
    
   
 
   
 

 

  

 but one plan by which I could reach the shore, and that

. Wm by swimming. Either shore was not less than a mile dis-

,t hot, but I knew that I had often swam that distance before.

" Even before I had entered my ’teens I felt as much at home

In the water as any duck. ~ '

n- .{ As swimming was the only plan I could devise, 1' prev
,1: ‘ll’eparcd to execute it. I carried nothing heavier than the

.lfi‘édpons,in my belt. , My. rifle had been left in the .fort. I ,
'  into the wata,.and when I arose to the surface, 

  

   

, \

 
 

     
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
  
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
 
   
     

 
  

WT MOCCAEIH; OB, /

out for the shore. I did not head for that point cxactiy oppoS 
site me, but rather up the stream, as that would prevent my EV
being carried too far down. I felt the heavy, dragging weight :k
as the water saturated my clothes, but I soon became accus. ,1
“ tamed to it, and swam more easily. . _
l I saw that I should land, as I neared the shore, either just tfi
above or a. little below a clump of tall rushes. I had ncconi- 9‘
plished fully two-thirds of the distance I had to swim before
I could touch km; firm, when, suddenly, from out the rushes. '8
darted two dark-looking objects”, and at the same instant It!
heard several shouts and exclamations proceed from the hank 1'
I was near enough to perceive at a glance that these latter“r

were caused by human beings—by Indians / - ' '

It needed not a second look to assure myself of this, and'
with a sudden impulse I was about to turn round, and head .
for the center of the stream, when accident caused my eye to ‘
again fall upon the two dark objects in the water; The sight , V
of those on shore had caused me to forget fora moment those ‘
nearest me, and during that time they had approached quite a
close. They were both bears. ~ i
Both were angry. I could easily tell that by the fierce 
E
I
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l

/

 

glitter of their eyes, their displayed teeth, and low, suappish
, " . growls. Perhaps they had been wounded, and by those on ’
, ,shore. The idea was not improbable, as Indians often dtr‘g»,
hunt the bear, on u moonlight night. ' Instinct told me that I’._’

was in danger, but how to escape I knew not. My wet ,
clothes would hinder me from escaping by swimming, as the

bear is a. fast swimmer, and would, therefore, easily overtaker,

, me. I could not, of course, use my revolvers; so I .whippedu
my hatchet from my belt, and anxiously awaited for the uni-
.3mnls to tipproach. I had not long to do so before the fore: 

-’ ‘ .most was within reach of my weapon. It descended like, a
 flash, the deep blude splitting his skull almost asunder“, 
"w I could, not help giving utterance. to an exclamation of joy, ‘
’ 't'or one, at least, of my enemies was done for. But the other,-
one ; be yet remained. '
On seeing the fale that had befallen his companion, he ~,-.
Ieemed to hesitate about approaching any‘nearerpan’d’ beg
swimming his kind of half circle round me, in such a man

s

 

  

.1 ' "out that he Rapist a distance ofl', and at the lame
. , , ' “' ' I I - \ x

  
    

  
  

' m roam FORTE, 42cm. /’

evented my getting a foot nearer the shore. I dreaded no less
to approach him than he did me, for I knew that this time
I might be less fortunate.

’I‘his lasted for some time, and the position which I' was
‘ Eforeed to keep in—-a perpendicular one—«was becoming ex-
' peedingly tiiiIItTlliL and tiresome. At. last I could stand it no
longer. If the i)t':ll' Would not attack me, I would hiip
a. rSIiil‘ holding in my hand my hatchet, I changed my position,
I .gnd sWam slowly toward him. He waited until I was with
,k 'in four feet of him. then suddenly dived out of sight. I
iknew his ohject. Ile meant to seize me while under the
water. Fearing that he would grasp me before I would have'
“(1- time to get away, like hit‘n I disappeared beneath the water.
ad " It was as I expected ; we met. Quick as thought, I grasped ,~
the animal by its rough and shaggy hide. and struck at it
h with my hatchet. To my horror,I missed my mark; and \
thelmtehet flew from my hands. I was nearly sufi'ocated,
*and releasing my hold of the bear, rose to the surface. An
instant later, he followed me. I still possessed another wea-
_pon which I could use—my knife. Even during the interval
sh that the hostilities ceased—in order to allow us both to re-
-g:iin our breath—I whipped it forth, ready for a fresh onset.
.Jmt‘Now, neither the bear nor myself had any thoughts of run-
Iiyning away. He recovered his equilibrium sooner than I did
‘ mine, and then made a rush tin-ward.
Je ’ I was ready for him, and with a quick move'ment, planted
a «the knife up to the hilt in his left shoulder. He was en -
,‘dLipled, but not seriously. In spite of tlie stab he had received,
1. he still pressed Oil—pressed on until he clutched me with
gyltis long claws. I tried with all my strength to eVade them,
’liut it was impossible. In vain did I bury the knife again ‘
Iilnd again in his body—he only seemed to hug tne the closer A"

I At that moment I thought I heard a voice, not far behind
3; "me, bid me not to despair. But held as tightly as I was, to p
l‘rl’Jook around was impossible—and oh! he was nearly crushing 3

M. "me i ’ ‘
 )1in strength is fast going, while that of my antagonist
‘  to be increasing. At least, so thought I. Axum “lid 
"Again didl plunge the red and reciting blade into him, The t »
 was crimson around us] He was bleedinngOfiflOIY- - 

     
 
 
 
    
   
 
  
  
   
   
  
 
    
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

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NWT MOCCAS‘LN; OB,

, “Oh, heavens! will he never die. He is strangling me
Help! help 1 I can not breathe! -I——oh l-—-" '

When I recovered my senses, I was lying upon the hard '
As soon as I opened them, my I,
I looked at him 5’

ground. I was not alone.
eyes fell upon some one sitting by my side.
with interest. He was an Indian. He was not the only one
there. At a few yards distance were several others, smoking
’their calumets round a. huge fire.
The one near me was young, and very handsome.
dress was that of a chief.
gettempted to move.
was directed toward the dark, gloomy depths of the forest, an
if he were engaged in deep thought. I wondered what he
could be thinking about. Perhaps he was, like me, in—

I hated to disturb him; but the position I occupied waslbe- v.

coming painful.
a. sitting posture.
severely wounded.
much pain.
fortI was making, and, placing one of his hands under mv
shoulder, I was soon in an easier position.
. “You are hurt rather severely,” said he, in exéellent En-
glish.
“ My arm pains me somewhat,” I replied.
“ I helieve‘you.
you fought admirably. My friends—” and he pointed toward
the group round the fire—“ can not but talk of your éourage.
One bear in the water is more than a fair match—but two!
by the Great Manitonl you should be called ‘The Slayer.
of Bears)” ‘
“ But," said 1 “how is it that I am here '5’" .
, “Oh i” said thelndizin, “I drew you ashore n'iyselfi
' fainted a minute before the bear died.
both are". , .
He pointedtownrd two (lurk-looking objects at a short dis-

With the aid of my elbow, I tried to rise to
Then I knew, for the first time, that I was

7

You!

   

Hi3 T
Long did I gaze at him before 1 t
He was not looking at me, but. his gaze 

To rise without. assistance gave me too ‘

The young Indian by my side perceived the cf: "

The bear clawed you fearfully. But, sir, -

See, yonder they 7

 

    

 

tance from the fire. I had no difficulty in recognizing in 11mm
the 'dend bodies of my late antagonists. I involuntarng
ohuddered as I beheld them. K 2""
“earned from my companion that he had beenone of,

  

 

  

    

    

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a, - ‘\ I .11,

   

’ run pom FORT'B cum. ' ' 63 ‘.

"forty that I had seennpon the bank, and when he saw the '
ihears attack me, ran to fetch a canoe which they had con-
Tf'c'ealed a short distance up the stream. He had approached
line just as I fainted, and after releasing me from my adver-

‘ Tiary's clutches, drew me into the canoe, and then took me
I'd‘ 'nshore.

1y I. _‘“Yon will have a lame arm for afew days," said he, in
m feonclusion ; “ but you came off splendidly l" '

le T' Alas! The prospect of having a useless arm at that time,
lg looked any thing but pleasing. I knew that, should we hen :' \
r; attacked on the morrow—as many expected—I would only be ' ’
is 3,: mere locker-on. To raise a pistol now was an impossibility;

1 . much more a rifle. ,

Le ’_' I conversed with the young Indian for upward of an hour, c
in '{flieu sleep began to steal over me. I did not feel s'trong

[e ; enough to return to the fort, and, at the invitation of the In-

' 's'dian—whose name, he told me, was Syeomus—passed the

5-- ;fnight in the forest. Sycomus and his party were not Sioux, _
b “but Chippewas; and this it was that made me comply with . ,
Lg (“16 invitation.

  
   
    
 
 
 
 
 
  
   
 
 
 
  
  
   
   
  
  
 
 
 
  
 
  

O L 1
f: .—
v .
 CHAPTER XII
‘ ’ - 'rnr: 'riurrons. I b
i. ‘- ' ANOTHER day passed. Bloody Arm and his band had not >
1 Wyn appeared. ' 

Long after sunset, I again wandered to the seat under the pr,

3‘ ' Willow; the one I had occupied the evening-before. The -_ I
It. first faint benm.of the risingnmon'was just appearing above Vx -
[4.58 horizon. , The light evening zephyr was sighing gently '

’ . among the tree-tops, and as it crossed over the blue waters of I
 We St. Peter‘s, raised it gently into wavelets. I carried my right
r "firm in a sling. It felt hot and painful; Inn, in spite of that,
. J; folt happy. Yes, happy ; for that Very afternoon I had
"  teen hex? I loved, and conveyed to her her brother’s message.
igwe had lingered long together, and how much was said in
fitment. imposeible to remember. A: am she had

    
     
 

  
 

 

    

 
    
       
   
   
     
   
         
      
  
 
 
 
 
 
   
    
    
 
   
     
   
   
   
     

 
 

'K‘f.

  

64 x, ,, scanner/locum ; oh,

somewhat reserved, but I knew for all that that she loved me.» A

I v , Had I not heard her confess it the night before? Ila‘l she

knew not that I had been playing the eavesdropper. Perhaps 2 v

u it was better for me that she did not. I— g V

Again were my thoughts, as they had been on the previous ‘

night,interrupted. Through the foliage of the willow I saw 

some one approaching. It was St. Pierre. He walked ‘v

0' ,‘straight to where I was seated without a moment’s hesita. 

- ~ lion. . .

“ Come, my friend,” said he, “ you have changed greatly, "

l the last (luy or two. You used to be merry, fond of company, et- 

' Mara, but now you prefer solitude. I know the reason, my '
boy. I was once in the same situation myself.”

“ You knew I was here, then ‘3" I asked, smiling.

“Yes; I saw you come. I had been looking for you. I "

have something important to Communicate.”

Drawing near to me, and speaking in a low voice, St. 

. Pierre said: .

r . . “Harry, you know, of course, that half-breed that you *3

hired at St. Paul, after the row we had ?" . V r

“ I never noticed him particularly. He seems to he a good‘f (

  

_ hand at mule-driving.” Lg£
“ No doubt, Montgomery; but he ism miserahlc villain.” .21

“ You surprise me! Whth has he ‘lullt: '5” ‘ ‘

“‘ Listen. This afternoon I tlccnltmtnliy overheard the out- _

lines of a plot between this half-breed and the Sioux chief, .
anhota. When Bloody Arm arrives the half-breed is to con- i

' . trive to kill the sentries, and then open the gate of the stock-
adc in the night. Thus, you see, we will he in the red Ea
devil‘s power. What think you now of your servant?" ’ k‘

A feeling of horror seizod me. ‘

'“ Have you informed the major ?” I asked . .

“ No, not yet. I wished to learn all the details, first.
They agreed to meet again to-night, under an oak that stands 1
about a mile and a_hnlf from here. I informed old Bill Rice «
about it, and he is going with me. Won't you come along}
There is no danger, for even should we be discovered, I afnd
Bill will be more than a match for all that will be there

I at once taunted; and we forthwith prepared to start for, - ..
tlwfilaca of rendezvous. A peculiar whistle by Sega-1;:

vs
-_....-.4

 

 

      

‘ ." , .l

   

.  ‘ r -   . V ‘11” / V i f"  

 
 

was somamr‘s gum. s v I

" -ght the trapper to our sides; and after a few words of}
‘ tion from him, we entered the forest. The trapper-pre-

      
 
  
 
    
  
  
  
  
 
 
 
 
   
   
  
 
 
 
     

  

~ : sign.”
at ‘By this time the moon was well up in the heavens, and the
.fitmost caution was used to avoid being seen by any strag- ‘ .‘
glers. We arrived in sight of the tree, however, without en-
:fountering either friend or foe. Here, secreting ourselves "
.'pn1011g the branches of the oak under which the plotters were
{so/meet, we patiently awaited their coming.
a 5". An hoflr passed; still the plotters were absent. Another
y Ehour passed with a like result. Our situation was becoming
tiresome
III/T “ Ye are sure this hyar are the tree that war agreed on P" r s;
‘ asked the trapper of St. Pierre. .
3‘ '“ Yes, I am certain of it,” was the reply. /
A No more was said, and again we listened eagerly. It ‘was
'yvell that we did so, for, before ten minutes more had passed,
, five could distinctly hear the noise caused by approaching foot-
;E«steps. A moment or two later, the noise ceased. The In-
édians, four in number, had halted beneath the oak, and seat-
;ed themselves on the ground. Their ally had not yet er: \
g ’ ‘rived. We. could see the savages fill their calumets, aud‘
-.,commence to smoke. But they had scarcely done so, when
I {the sound of footsteps again broke upon our ears.- Looking (
in the direction from which they proceeded, we perceived two '
'1 ’figures just emerging from the gloom of the road. One was
 Adam, the half-breed; the other a small staturetl, villainous- \ ‘j
hooking fellow who had joined us at St. 'Paul, like the half-
_ wbrsed, in the capacity of tenmster. His name was John‘
,llfemhard; by birth he was a Dutchman. v
‘ The two seated'themselves on the ground, at a. short dis-
Lalance from: the group of savages. ‘
 “ Well, Nashota," said Adam—for the chief was one 01
.the party—“ this is my friend that I spoke to you about."
_ “Ugh! It is well. TWO is much better than one," said , ,‘
{the chi£ . ~ ‘
' ‘ “"Yes. There are'two sentries, and both must be attack;
 at the same moment, or else the alarm would be given:

16
{-

 

      
   

  
 
    

_v u ed in Manhard. ‘

   

  

   
    
   
 
    
   
   
    
   
   
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
   
         
   

summer uooossur; on, -

  

‘ “ Bloody Arrn and his warriors corne to-morrow night!
said the Sioux chief. “ Nashota was told so by Suclx-e~grah 
the Antelope, this afternoon." - . '
'2 After some debating on the mutter, it was decided that on '
,, the following afternoon Nasho'ta and his hand his band were“ : I

to break up their camp, and take their departure. They were to _ i
join Bloody Ann and his band at some distance upthe I
river, acquaint them with the plot, and wait there until after "
sunSet. Then the united forces were to march toward New.
Salem, and the arrival would he made known to the two trai-l»
tors by their imitating the screech of an owl thrice in rapid”:
succession. Adam and Memhurd were then to simultane~
ously rush upon the sentries, tomahawk them, and then open ,.
the gate of the stocknde. The rest would be left to the sav— s
ages. f“
“ Well, Nashotn,” said Adnm, utter all this was arranged,
“how much are we to get for this T We must have a good A.
j, i ’ share.” . :
“Yes. The wagons of the pale-faces are many. The ‘
spoil will be large,” said Nushotn. F '
“ True. But your braves may claim the largest share '

That ought to he ours.” - A
' “ Ugh i” grunted one of the savages; " the warriors cure :

not for heads, but scalps." , i

“ Well," said Memhnrd, “ I guess we won’t quarrel about ’7

that. For my part, I don’t want any of the goods. Tliet’e r

is something you can give me that I prize fur more.”

‘3 What is it that our pale-face friend would have 1’” asked
one Of the savagesfi ' , ‘

“ What is it? ,I will tell you,” said the Dutchman.
“ Know, then, that several moons ago, I stayed a few doysxln
one of the Sioux villages. There dwelled there 3 maiden,
'cnlled Wnsh-o-wish, the Humming Bird, and when my eyes
saw her I loved the Sioux maiden. I would have herlfor'u \

wife. This, warriors, is my wish. Give her to me, and I)!“

will dwell among you always. She shall he the light. of my f

lodge." ‘ . . ' I

“ Perhaps one of your warriors has already brenthedwords i»-
of love into her ears. If so, let him desist. Amongthevale- - 
 “' hoes are many squaws as beautiful as the Humming Bird.. 

  

  

 

a“! < .v

,‘w‘ -.

 

 

 

'r-\" ‘._,v r
, ‘ \

; , , ~ /

  

m Former year’s outrun.

gm, Thereis the lovely Silver Leaf and the fair English girl.
rah _‘Let the warrior who would have the Humming Bird fill his
’ “edge, choose one of these. Warriors, I have spoken.”

0n hearing the wreteh mention '
‘ere ELenf, my blood run cold through my veins. Oh, God i What
a to ,1 a. proposition. Welldid I know the meaning of his words.
the < If the savages succeeded in taking the fort, we should be
{ultinssacred to 31mm, But not so the women. Alas! theirs
strould be it fztie fztl‘ worse than death ! I knew that one and

'ai- flail would be carried helpless into the vast wilderness, there
old 1 to be made the squaws of its human, but brutal (lenizensl

ne»J For some moments the Indians did not reply to the traitor’a
en Lproposition. Whether it took them by surprise or not, they .

showed not the least unusual emotion, but set silently pulling
j" away at their caiumets. ,

3d, “ ’ At last, however, one of them-11 young warrior—arose.

ed “a ' “The pale-face asks for what can not be given. The Sioux
:« maiden of whom he speaks is to fill the lodge of Moose Head.
" I am he.”

This declaration took the villain by surprise.

'e.‘ i he said:
“ Moose Head, why not take one of the pale-face maidens
re into your lodge. As I have said before, there is the lovely

.  Silver Leaf, the most beautiful of ail women! If you Wish it,
 she can be yours. But give up the Humming Bird, and I will
’b > use that the pale-face maiden is yours to—morrow night. “lim-
2 out I have your promise to give up the Sioux maiden, I can
4,, ,not do my part of the work, for nothing else will tempt
Z- hie.”

I- E, “Yes, Moose Head,” chimed in the half-breed, “give the
I : maiden up.., There will be enough for you among the white
1,, L‘ iquaws." .

I For a short time the savages conversed together. in low
I

 

“ It is well. I will make the exchange. Silver Leaf shall
V  fine mine; Humming Bird yours. I swear it by the Great
' . Monitou 1”

I; The villain had gained his point For the, charms
- “_~~~dusky belle, he swore to betray his comrades and friends.
a.  '- I‘ghncod, “the faces 01 St Pierre and the trapper. . It

013

the name. of Silver '

Nevertheless,

_ VA, whispers; then the consultation ended, and Moose Head said: I , I,

      
 
      
 
 
 
   
    
 
 
 
   
   
  
 
 
 
   
  
  
 
  
   

 
       
     
  

 
 
   
   

     
    

   

  

' /

 

'/

_/ hope them ’ar sodjers as the major sent for ’11 arrive, then

 e  ‘ L

R

SCARLET Modem; 0:; v

 rather dark, but what light there was, was enough td pro» 
tray the awful expression of their face as they listened to the ,~‘ 3:
The neck of the trapper was stretched forwardp;

conversation.
his,lips, pale and bloodless, were drawn tightly over his teeth.

His eyes protruded forward, and the glances they shot forth :

were filled with hate and deadly vengeance! I felt afraid
' lest he should forget himself, and punish the villains on the
Ipot. I was about to whisper Something in his car, when I
observed the party below rise from their seats, and begin to
depart. The conference was ended-the plot was fully laid.
‘We waited until they had been gone some time, ere we
descended. ‘ ‘

“Thank Heaven 1” ejaculated.St. Pierre, i“ their plot has ‘

been discovered in time!” >
“ Ef this child don‘t fetch them ’ar two out 0’ their boots
to-morrow," said the trapper, with a fearful oath. ’ v
“By Geehosephat! shootin’ ar’ too goo fur ’em, says I.

A piece 0‘ stout buckskin thong roun‘ that; cussed necks ’u’d be j

better’n any thing else.”

“We had better capture them both this very night,” sag-v;-j

gested St. Pierre.

“Waugh! no.
other.’ Better wait till after they‘ve mizzled; then grab
'em both ; an’, when the reds kum to-morrer night, instead 0’ .
taking us by surprise, we’ll take them, I reckon. Walughl I

they'll be enough to keep the fort ’ithout‘ this hyar child’s help.
He allers prefers to do fi’tin’ on his own book, an' in the
woods. he diz.” ‘ I

We arrived at the fort shortly after the two villains had

. done. The sentry at the stockade informed us that they had , :

preceded us only a few minutes.

It had been agreed upon that we were to inform no one, “*1
Jove the major, about what we had heard, and that assoon v r

as the savages left on the morrow, the two traitors were to be .
quietly secured by the four of us“.

 
   
   
 
 
    
 
   
 
  
 
 
 
 
    
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
   

The reds might get wind 0’ it, somehow or, '

 

 

74..

     
 

  

 

pm» .~ ‘
t the] 2'
ardp
eth. 
 ‘ CHAPTER XIII.
the  ' THE ATTACK.
’11 I '. Tm; following morning we observed an unusual commotion
’ m nmong the Indians. Before noon. the wigwams had been
[1‘ pulled down, packed, and otherwise made ready for immediate
We -rremoval. To most of the villagers, this was a welcome sight.
V As scion as the savages Were gone, they thought they would be
h“ r able to return to their forsaken cabins again.
~ Toward the middle of the aftemoon, the Sioux began to
o“ r' file out of the clearing and into the forest. All of the trappers, ,
' teamsters, traders, and a few of the villagers, stood together in
L I'  a group,kutching their proceedings with the most intensc.
be - interest. The savages departed without a single yell or Whoop;
r I and as we saw the last one disappear, our thoughts—I answer
13* Lsfor the major, Bill Price, St. Pierre and myself—turned toward
' - , another direction. Almost simultaneously, we directed our
0” eyes toward the two teamsters, Adam and Memhard.
a: Both were standing on the rampart of the fort, like us,
0 eagerly watching the disappearenee of the Sioux warriors.
I “ Come,” said the major, in a low voice, “now is our time L
m r But keep cool, or the rogues may suspect something." '
p‘ i We separated from the crowd, and approached the stair.
Le. , way which led to the ramparts.
The ma villains did not fail to notice us, and as they looked
3 {down they caught the eyes of the trappers. They were full

J.‘.

(

UDJ'

‘._"."0t hatred and triumph.

Ml, w

.Jr _

'13:: power 'mfsnom.

  

 

I saw the two wretehes suddenly
5 ,‘gflfil‘t, and, quick as their suspicions, retreat backward from the
a“ Edge of the parapet. Beyond a doubt, instinct had warned
I ‘ them of our intention. '

We all 'felt that now there was no time to be lost. We

( ,Dpning up the stairway with the greatest haste possible. St.

  

; i 'i/Pierre was the first to reach the top, and I followed quickly
{ L- in his rear.

011 meshing the top I glanced around in search of the two

 

  

' PMd—be traitors. ,One of them only could be seen. This

  
  

 
 

 
   
 
 
 
 
 
   
   
 
 
    
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
         
       
   
     
       
 

was the half-breed.” The other had disappeared!
Was standing on the edge of the parapet, as if considering 2‘
whether it/was safest to try to escape by jumping, He had 1 '

K o’ thet afore ‘2”

.l Pierre and I imitated his example.
‘ rushed to the opposite edgeyof the parapet, and hurriedly
shouted to the sentinel: . \ ._ _ .1

1: * -- ,

  

scanner moccasm ; ‘on‘

upon a pile of bufl‘alo hides lying in one of the further corners

\ .of the platform. The expression of his face changed like a r ‘

flash!
“ Geehosephat l” he exclaimed; “ why in h—l didn’tI think"

I saw him bring his heavy rifle to his shoulder with a quick
jerk, point it toward the pile of bufi‘alo hides, and the next

is ,

Adar”

 

not much time to decide, for in less than half a dozen leaps I ' 
was near him; and grasping him by the collar, jerked him  ~
with all my strength into the middle of the platform. He
was then seized and bound hand and foot in a twinkling. fish
But the otherl Where was he? Perhaps he had been TM
quicker and braver than his companion, and jumped from 1116 lab,
roof. I‘rushed to the edge of the parapet, and looked over. ;SI
I was quickly followed by the rest. ' " vile'
“ Geehosephat l" exclaimed the trapper, whose anger at gin
being thus haflied knew no bounds; “ whar kin he ’a’ mizzled-  ‘_
to. lie must be inside hyar, somewhar, though I’ll be ’tarnally 'ci
dog-goned ef I knows whar. Hullo, tharl" he continued, Sh:
\ raising his voiCe. and directing it toward the sentry at the Xe:
‘ stockade gate. “ Hes any one passed out 0’ that within five 
minutes ‘2” . gu
The response was in the negative. a"
7 “ I thort so. Besides, he wouldn‘t bed time to reach the ‘u
kiver o’ the woods afore we sighted him, ef he hed left the ' 
. fort. P’raps he ar’ inside!” \,
\ At that moment the eyes of the trapper happened to fall ‘ h

 

instant his finger pressed the trigger.

ward, and from their midst bounded a human form! It was
Memhard! He hurriedly glanced toward us, then sprung
down the stairway. ,

“Missed him, by h—l l” ejaculated the trapper, laying down
his rifle, drawing his knife, and preparing to follow. St.
As forithe major, he

    

Almost simultaneously \ I i
y, with the report, a number of 'the shaggy hides were flung lip-J

> "to k ,’ V. . , r '45   “5". ~
. w \ 1—,  }

 

22 .

f ' . me maker rgn'r‘s qum. 71‘”?
1 r ‘ .
. . “Waters! Take care! Don’t let that fellow pass 1"
2’ _‘ ‘The soldier saw whom he meant. When I reached the
 ground, the fugitive was not ten feet behind him. The soldier- ‘;
n was armed with a musket—the Dutchman with a knife. "
 E“,Ha1tll" said the former, “ or I will fire.”
1 , "Without seeming to notice the command, Memhard rushed
V—Eforward with still greater syn-ed. He was close to the soldier's
j [hide before the latter had time to raise his weapon. The fiend
 ifburied his knife up to the hilt in his opponent’s side, then
eprung quickly through the gateway, and ran as fast as his ' V'
Elegs would carry him toward the edge of the clear-
ing.‘ ‘
{f By this time the whole fort was in tlie‘greatest state of ex-
i’citement. The rifle-shot and our shouts had drawn those who
' '; had been in the fort outside. But, of coursehyith' only four
exceptions, none knew the cause of the disturbance.
E; ,“ Let him be taken," yelled the major, from the parapet, ‘ _
’3 dead or alive I” ’ '
:- The ercitement’now became still more intense. As one
V man, fifty rushed outside the stockade. Pistols and revolvers .
ere drawn, and fired at the fugitive, who ran in a zigzag. , .
v urse in order to bafiie his pursuers’ aim. He did so; for -
J :not one of the bullets sent after him togk effect.
 "“ Waugh!” said one of the trappers, “ we kin niver draw
’, heteady bead on him, thet's gl‘ar."
,  'Oh, heavens! Was the murderer to es ‘2 No, not un-
- .til other means had been tried to captur‘e him. By the das- .
lardly murder he had just committed, he had forfeited his life. V g
H ,coiild hear half-stifled purses and vows of vengeance proceed", f ,,.
.- ‘ cm the lips of many of those around me. He had now a,
‘ . ‘ég’ood'start, but perhaps he could be overtaken, by some of, us.
i ‘ fkfiew that I, myself, was a good runner, and felt certain that
V it: I possessed greater bottom than’ the fugitive, would be able 
"ato‘ovemhe-him. Before the thought had fairly shaped itself, ’  .\ '-
,~ prepared to execute‘it. Replacing my empty revolver in my '
‘ ' It, I hounded after the fugitive with a speed that surprised _ -
,fi‘iefi myself. Ha! I could run now; for I had an object in, I \ C
 ,60 had the pursued—he felt that he was running tor '
f n his.  I  not started alone. [A dozen others were at my 
 before a dozen rods had been (demod,~l had forged
. I a“ ,

 

  
 

W'noccm; on,

r
t

ahead of the rest; until saw, to my gratification, that I w" ' -'
’ "'“rapidly gaining upon the wretch still far ahead of me. V
' Of course, all this had taken but a few seconds of time, an ' "
the fugitive had not yet reached the woods. But he did so at 1.
last, however; but, before disappearing, he turned round, in 
order, no doubt, to see how far his pursuers were behind . v
him. , ,
He stood still a moment, then entered the wood. This hm '
given me time to gain on him rapidly, and when I reached thd ' ‘
v 1, edge of the clearing, he was not over half a dozen rods ' , ,
front of me. I still felt quite fresh; and, nerving myself for 4 ‘
an encounter, bade him stop. He still kept on ; and drawing ‘
my revolver that I Had not before uscd, aimed it at him, and .
’fired. He fell to the ground, with a shattered thigh. '

ing look, “let me go)’
“Let you go!” I exclaimed. “It is impossible, You at 
' badly wounded. and sec there i” ‘ K , ,
As I spoke, I pointed toward the crowd ‘of pursuers comin 
on a, full run toward us. .The wretch groaned aloud; a ,
then, after trying in vain to rise to his feet, commenced t
crawl away from the spot aufast as he was able to. I did A I,
try to restrain him; but, leaning against a tree, proceeded to 
load my empty weapons. ‘ .
I had not been at this occupation long, when the rest 0 1.-
the pursuers on up with me. ’ p
“ Whar is he ." demanded the foremost, who was n-
other than Bill! Price. “ Escaped, young feller ‘3" ‘
I made noanswcr. V
I The trapper was about to repeat the question, when an e 
clamation from .one’of the others interrupted him. _,
“ Bu‘st my b’iler ! Lookee hyar ! Blood l" " '-
, “ Waugh 3”! exclaimed Price. pushing forward, " the you ,.-'
teller has winged him. See! Thar’s whar he\ crawls:
way." . r , .i .
It was as I expected it would be; the trappers tracked t,
fugitive as easily as if he had been in sight. Soon an ede
ant yell, and a shriek for mercy, announced that the wret ,
‘ was discovered. ‘ One‘of the trappcrs seized him by the coll. 5 x
' 54  coat, and jerked him with one,th from. 

,

\

 

‘m mus? maria std-am
 where he'had been trying to conceal himself, into an
'1, “open space of ground. ' : . t »

“ Caged at last, eh ?" ~
“ He’s a purty-looking' feller, an’ no mistake.”

1

' “ Whar’s yer rope, hoss ?" asked another trapper.

" “At the fort, I reckon. Hyar, two 0’ you fellers; go to
a the fort an’ bring a couple 0’ long ropes, an’ that ’ar cussedj
» half-breed."

~ , V Two or three of the party started ofi‘ to obey the trapper’s

: ,.,0,1,'der. I did not interfere. It would have been but useless,

‘- even if I had felt in the humor for it. I well knew the fate

they were to undergo, and that both well merited it. Had
'i‘they not been detected in the crime for which they—one,“
{least—were now to suffer, dozens of helpless men, women and

, "gfihildren, would have been massacred, perhaps, in cold blood.

’ ‘FTo sa ,then, that I felt any sympathy for them, would be ‘

,  or I did not.

1 At length, those who had been dispatched to the fort re-
tinrned, bringing with them two long ropes, and the half-
: reed.

-  ‘ In a twinklinga couple of slip-nooses were formed. adjusted
around the unfortunate man’s necks, and the other ends of the
_,{0pes thrown over the branch of an oak. In vain‘ did the \_
‘ r‘wo wretches plead for mercy—for they were now in the '

,Jtunds of men nmong whom an ofi'ense is nnpardonable. Bill

. had informed the rest of their treachery; and thetwo traitors,

" in whatever direction they would, saw themselves con-

\

c

\ .

I

. ;:£l’0nted by faces stern and unrelenting. .
‘ “ Well,” said Bill, addressing Metnlmrd, “ of you’ve any
._ t-méssage fur thet ar’ gurl thet yer bargained fltr, this _child ’11
hke it to her. ‘Supposin’ I take her u lock 0‘ yer ha‘r, ch ‘1’"
, :This jest——-which time ,nnd circumstances matde brutnl— ‘
,drew forth from the trapper-s a loud yell of laughter. The «
' {woiwretehes tirade no response, and ere the laughter had died
" ,X’fiy’, they were suffering a. horrible, horrible dctithl
9h, Godl The sight made me sick.

;

c

 tinie that we arrived at the fort again, it was evening.

 

 

 

 

mun uoo'camr; on, '

To our disappointment, the troops from Fort Suelling had J-
.not yet arrived. We felt certain that we were in for a fight ; and 'L
as several hours were yet to elapse before the arrival of Bloody"
Arm and his warriors, our hopes lay in the idea. that. the do» »
tachment would arrive in time yet.

But, no. Hour after hour passed, but the reC-nforcements _, 5
were still absent. We had prepared ourselves for an assault, ‘ a
and every man in the fort was unitionsly on the lookout for;
the first sound of the foe. The women and children had been :

 

 

»

 

ordered inside, and the gateway of the stockade barricaded 
securely. ' _ I E;
To our vexntion, the night is as dark as pitch. The moon 2

/

is obscured-by heavy, black clouds, and it is only by the
lightning’s flash that any thing can be distinguished. The wind ‘ .
howls through the trees like some huge monster‘s wail, mak-z >‘
ing our situation appear still more dismah 5 V
‘ Hark! Yonder is the screech of an owl. Perhaps it. is
the signal. We listeti intently. Again is the sound repeated, K
and yet again. By heaven t it is the signal! i”
“ Waugh 1 Lookee yonder l”
“ Thor’s the skunks, by Geclmsephal l" 
Away on the further edge of the clearing, the "next fl'ashx
of the lightning revealed to us the forms of hundreds of war-1 *
riors. Again the lightning flashes, and then again and again“
By this time they have discovered us. “*
Instead of only the two sentinels they expected to see, they "‘
nw’ the parapet. of the fort crowded by men armed and ready. .
Then the Sioux war-cry, loud and dotiant, rung out. The «_'

“1L-

 

 

7 next flash that came revealed ihem scattered by dozens aligi
"over the clearing. At 'intervals, only. can we witness their 5-

movqments, but even that is enough to acquaint us with their ' f.
intentiotis. ~

In less than ten minutes, we see a red flash proceed front '1,

' one of the cabins. The first one is soon followed by nnothe .  ,

and another, until twenty are ablaze. Now. we. could pe ~ 
oeive their motions distinctly. as they flitted quickly uboxi ‘r
under the lurid glare of the conflugration. I , . b

As soon as these were well ablaze, a crowd rushed towa  A
the fort. Fifty rifles cracked, and nearly that mnqyxsav, ; 
fill lifeless to the ground. The rest retreated- slightly», bnf'v

  
 
 
  

Ix
é

, ,.
> .‘ ‘-\3_

t

‘»

m roma- mn'r’s minim.

 I being joined' by another crowd, again they rushed forward.
’ , Only about one half of our number had fired, the first time,
1 ~30 that we were again ready for them. I was 'among the last
‘ that fired, and the savage at whom I had aimed fell flat upon
_ ‘his face, his forehead pierced by my bullet. I laid my empty
, rifle aside, and drew forth one of my revolvers. ‘
Butthere was no occasion for me to use it, just then, for
the savages had commenced a hasty retreat, leaving at least
seventy of their number either dead or wounded behind
" them. ,
We hastily reloaded our rifles, and awaited for the next
onset.

CHAPTER XIV.
A mnmarrr TREATY.

PBESENTLY one of the warriors was seen advancing toward
'3 'the fort. holding in his hand an arrow, to which was attached
 apiece of white cloth. This was evidently intended for a
:1, flag of truce. When near enough to be heard, the warrior
' :cried out:
“Palefacesl Our chief, Bloody Arm, wishes to have a
- Ctalk with his white brethren.” ' .
 "‘Why don't he come forward, then ?” demanded Major/
' _i:‘-_Maurice. . t
‘ ' “Why?” said the subtle savage. “ The weapons of our
7 v ‘ white brothers are too sure. Bloody Arm has many etterfiies.” ,
' “7-. “ How, then, is it possible to hold the talk '2” V
 “I will anewer, white chief! Let twenty-fire of your
. irmen, yourself among them, come forth, and we will let you
, ‘ "‘ hold as many of our warriors as hostag . Let both parties
5 hbe unarmed.” ‘ i '
' 1." The proposition surprised us. There was not one of us, I
, :believe, but what had plainly seen its motive. The savages
a ..‘  doubflegg hoped that if we would agree, to the proposition; ,,

-. and thus openiho 'gate of the stockade, it would be cuy, to ‘

fin

.  inside, and, a: they far outnumbered us even yet, soon

.3 ‘_

 

 
 

V

 

, he determined to accept the savages’ proposition. ‘
I and the bearer of the truce—flag hurried back to report it to his
I companions. '

. we were to proceed forth unarmed, but as we knew that beneath

I {—pehaps'for the last time. I knew that errand on which we f ;

V one I found her in a room with several‘others, and hastily‘ 

 

W 'lmcCAfl'l-g OB,

 

decide the contestat closequartcrs. But the savagde to deal I
with men as cunnning as themselves , , ~:

“ Waugh 1" said one of [the trappers, “ Wi’ other condishunal , K a
yer'd better take his ofl'er. Ef it comes to fi’tin’, this child

kiln fight better, by Geehosephat! out thar than hyar.”

“ I cottons to you, old hoss,” said another. , .
“Waugh 1” said a third, “ once in the woods this child ain’t"  p
It'fecrd 0’ either Injin or devil,he ain't.” 4 '

“ Well," said the major, turning to the first trapper who had K
spoken, “ what other conditions can be made ?" ‘ 

“ Why, order the reds to pick thar men, and then let the’ ”
rest 0’ them get clur back to the other eend o’ the clearing;
’fEee,sees, we kin thus git them inside, an‘ the gate shut, afore
the others hev time to come up,"

As the major knew that time saved was an important object,

He did so,

 

c»)

NV e could soon see them picking out their men, and we pre-
pared to follow their example. St. Pierre, Bill Price and my-,_ " '
self were among the number chosen. Of course, the major
was also to be one of the party. The savages had said that - ‘

a, i

\ t

— 7

their blankets, the Indians would have concealed their bows
and tomahawks, we took good care to place our pistols and re- _ .
volvers in our bosoms. Of course we would have to leave our , F5
rifles behind, for to hide them was impossible. '

As several minutes would elapse before our party would be 4 ,
ready to sally forth, I descended from the parapet into the‘ ;:.
fort." I was desirous of seeing my beloved Minnie once more i \

were about to set forth was a dangerous one—perhaps a. fatal i, '

drawmg her aside, said:
“ Minnie, I wish to speak to you.” c » ,
I then related, in as few words as possible, what was about,
to transpire, and concluded bLsaying: g 
, “ If I do not return, you will sometimes think of m: i" / ‘ 1
“0h, monsieur, you must return l" j . '“
“ Why ?" I asked.

33' ,

 

 

 

,.;'

m mnipr'ronr’s dam. ‘

t > There was no response, and taking one of' her hands in
v 9 mine, I continued: '
‘ “ Minnie, sweet Minnie! Do you net know that I love your
. , I loved you the first minute I ever saw you. Tell me, loved ..
‘ .i one, is my love returned."
I “ It is,” was the low and sweet response.
, L Ldrew her light form to me, and imprinted a kiss on her
'  ruby lips. It was the first kiss of love that I had ever given. ,,
'1 Already the men were beginning to unbarricade the gates. I .
 kissed the beautiful girl once more, and after uttering a few
I more hasty Words of hope, joined them.
I, ' As soon as the gate was open, the. warriors, twenty-five in
g. number, stalked boldly into the stoekade. - When the last one
', "had" entered, the twenty-five on our side passed out. 'i‘hc
rest of the savages were on the opposite edge of the clearing,
7,, seated in a circle round a huge fire they had kindled. By this .
I time the cabins had burned to the ground, a glowing heap of
 embers showing only where each had stood. A short time
 ‘ sufficed for us to approach the savages. We seated ourselves
‘ on the ground, our party forming the are of a circle concave
j J1 to theirs.
, , 7 ' Without a word the calumet was lit and passed slowly from
‘  mouth‘to mouth. The scene was beyond description. The
 lightning still flashed as vividly as ever, followed by appalling ‘
" " peels of thunder. The wind, too, was as fierce as over. As
’~ .1 yet, no rain had fallen, but we knew that it soon would. The I
-  faces‘of our ‘focs, fearful at all times, were now rendered
goumy so by the lurid glare of the fire, as it danced upon
'3' them. They darted looks of hatred at us from out their ob,
,: [lique orbs; and as I glanced along our line, I saw that the,
' I "; feeling was not unreturned.
’ P, But if the Indians smoked long, we smoked longer. For
I , our part, we cared not how long the conversation would las
:  as we, were only gaining time by it. ‘ ,
-" But at length the pipe was laid aside, and the “talk” began.
 ,l 9 first speaker was the major.
' f “ Warriors 1” he said, rising to his feet, “ we are here because
‘ your chief wished to speak to us We are ready, to listen.” ‘ .
' For eeva moments after. the majortook his-lent. agaiu,‘ » _
planned, a strict silence. We all new (born this ; 

. |

\

 

      

/ ’ ,' ‘ /

scum 100cm; 61;,

  
 

  

 , that the getting of us outside the fort had only been e m; ‘_. ‘
‘ and knew well how the aflair would terminate.

At last, however, one of the savages, a tall, powerful-looking
man, arose. This, I soon learned, was their chief, Bloody
,Arm. " g

“ White chief!" he said, “ you desire to know the wish of
Bloody Arm. Listen, then.. For many moons the red-man
has seen the pale—face upturn their hunting-groumls without a 

‘ ‘ murmur. The graves of our ancestors can be seen no longer, n
for the white robber has covered them over. Nor is this all.’
There is one of your number who dogs the steps of our war ;
riors, not only by day, but in the dead of night also. ' Many a; t
nohle brave has fallen by his hand, and from the hunting-
grounds to which they have gone their voices cry out for

vengeance. , I
,“And," continued the savage, his voice growing bolder, 
“for that reason have we dug up the hatchet. We have fij
sworn nut to bury it again until our fallen warriors are satis- Li,
fled. I out their chief—I shall keep my oath.” , '
“But,” said the major, “ because one white man is your 
enemy, why should you seek our lives? Why not avenge '

yourselves on him ?" _‘

“ On him I” exclaimed the savage. “ He is a devil !. He‘

, can not be harmed l” \I
 At that moment it peculiar sound—the crwa 3 night 1’4
. hawk—renched our cars. It seemed to make an im :t;
I _ ptession upon our fees; and, again Bloody Kim rose to his ‘, g
' ' feet. . ‘ ' w
“ It is time—” ‘ ,1 ' _
He never finished the sentence; for at that instant ta form  
leaped into the circle which made the savages recoil with  ‘7
terror. Indians knew him as well as trnppere. It was Scar ” I
let Moccasin l x
, His ride was slung at his back, and in his hand he grasped ‘.
a tomnhuwk. With eyes flushing with hatred, he walked ,
’- fl townrd the Sioux chief until not hnlt‘ ndozen feet laybeo f
tween them; then he drew his form up to its full hight, an ‘
r i ;said, in a voice of thunder: , .7 I ‘ " ..
'I I ) “ The-Scarlet Moccasin is here! He will answer for him- ., .-
" Dom x. Bloody Arm 1 you'end I have been enemies/forte  -

    
 
    
  
    
  
 
 
   
    
  
  
   
  
 

4
 ml:

 
 

 

      
       
       
   
     
       

 
 

  

THE mm FORT'S commit.

t l

 time, and you, as well as I, know for what reason. At last we

,‘g have met. Prepare l” '
“Y “ True, pale-face ! we have met. Warriors! you-hear him.
if HO-yo-ho-che-el Ho-yo-ho-che-e." The crisis had come.
n As one man rose trappers and warriors; and the next mo- .
a  ment we closed and clutched our foes. -
r The yells of the opposing combatants—the reports of the
l": pistols—the clashing of lmtchets and toumhawks~and the
. A, 'Ioud’ pt..-cussions of the thunder over us were appalling!
r, " Foemen grappled each other. and if nearly equnlly matched,
: ‘. rolled over and over on the ground before one or both were
’1' powerless. Some fell into the huge fire; and even in the
D

‘57 midst of the licking flames, fought still!
5 ‘ ' At the commencement of the struggle I drew forth my two
’  revolvers, nndfired them at random in the faces of our foes.
a .3 ’When both were empty, I stuck them in my belt, and drew
:3. my hatchet. I was not long in finding an opponent. an-'
' ing the advantage of him, I dealt him a heavy blow on the

g } head, which stretched him at my feet. The next time I was
> not quite so fortunate. I felt myself seized by the throat;
’ :'\ and, turning round, beheld n snvnge with an uprnised knife.

 Tomahawk he had none; and I knew that he must have lost '
"  — the wonpon——for every Sioux carries one—in the struggle. I I
t' parried the blow he intended for me with my hatchet; he
 v dropped his knife and tried to wrench it from mefl He was
4:: my equal in size, but in strength my inferior. After a short
'} struggle, I caused him to release his hold, and the next mo-
 ment he lay at my feet, (lend. I ’

All this occupied but u very short time, and when I again
looked around, my companions were making for the wood with
all their speed. I prepared to follow them. I snw that to
. “I, fight where we were would only be madness. Our foes out»
3 . - -:numbered us, six to one. In the woods we would stand a
better chance. t ‘

,m Shortly after entering the forest, we tumed sharply to
' ' the lett, and approached the river. :Here we halted, each man

stationing himself behind :1 tree. We knew that the, whole
1’0? your enemies would not follow us, for, soon after the com-
' m’encement of the fight, ire-observed a crowd of them rush

 

 

  
   
  
   
  
  
  
 

  

.. \.

  

\.

  

 
  

scanner Moccasin ; on,

, Those-of our enemies that did follow us, did so with

caution, for now it was impossible for either party to dip V

tihguish the other, the darkness was so dense.
By this time, the rain was falling in torrents, and we were
wet to the skin. The wind had moderated somewhat, but

Still it was enough to hurl the ruin into our faces with terrific _

violence. Our situation was to be any thing but envied.

‘ CHAPTER XV.

THE ISLAND. I

F01: upward of an hour, we held our situations In silence.

We were not inhowed—or, if we were, our enemies had
lost us in the darkness.

“ Waugh 1" said one of the trappers, “ Ihnr at the fort, I'll
be boun’. I hope them as we left that ain’t carried out that
lntenshun." 4

“ No," said another : “ it ain’tlikely.—
thar as kin fight as good as us. I reckon."

,“ Well," said Major Maurice, “how many of us are there
' left? All that left the fort can not be here.”

It was shortly ascertained that there were seventeen ot‘
118.

“ Waugh !” said a voice, whichI recognized as that of Bill
Price, “thnr’s eight good tellers gone. But whar‘s Scarlet
Moccasin? Ain't he hy'nr 1’” V '

“ Yes,’ said a voice that. I instantly recognized.
It, Bill?” .

“ What is

“ [sce’d yer at clust quarters wi’ the Sioux chief. Did ’eo"

’ raise his hn’r ‘3”
‘ “No. I wounded him badly, though, and ‘just at that

\ ‘moment two others joined in. and I had hard work of ,it in x
,. , getting away. Whewi how the wind blows. I don’t think

[it's of any use in remaining here any longer, for we cut notH
doanythingmore.nntilmorningl’ - . ~  I , .7
' “Whar shall we go? We can’t get hack to the M”

' We left nigh seventy .‘,

  

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m roan-rt mars 

‘ ‘ '“N_o.; certainly not. The ravine is only about half a mile \
. 1 down the stream. Why not go there. That” will shelter us
.  from the 'storm.” I ' I

:s‘ The proposition was received with exeiamations of we“
re ' Sure; and, Scarlet Moccasin leading the way—as he was best
{It _ acquainted with the locality--we’ were soon en route for the‘
m l i ravine. The manner in which we proceeded was a. singular

 one. As it was impossible to see a single pace ahe‘ad of us,
each took hold of the fringe of, the preceding one’s buckskin ,
shirt, and in that way we avoided running against trees, and

’97
- other impediments. I,
:5 Arrived at the ravine, we were beyond reach of either
wind or rain. The ravine was deep, and under an overhang-
;_ ing rock we found dry sticks and chips in‘ abundance, which , '
5;: were soon collected in a pile, and set fire to. Around this,
 We impatiently awaited for the morning to appear.

‘- I felt extremely anxious for the safety of those at the fort’.

‘ In vain did I try to hope for the best—for, try as I would, I
i_‘ fgltill at case. A dark foreboding had come over me. As t‘
-  ' datvn approached, the rain passed away. Before the sun had
' ‘I 'risen above the horizon, we quitted the ravine, and cautiously
' approached the fort. There a sight greeted our eyes which,
 caused more than one murmur of alarm to issue from our
' ‘4. lips Not a vestige of‘any human creature was to be seen
‘ about the fort. The gate was wide open—and many of the
'1 :palisades torn from their places, and lying on the ground"
 Together, we rushed toward the building, and entered the now
useless Stockade. Heavens! what a sight greeted our eyes. I ‘
 ‘Turn whichever way we would, we saw blood. Blood lying.

,1 T.’ 'on the grountl,,and sputtered over the posts and palisades. ‘
M ‘ Upon the ground were the dead bodiesfloi‘ lour foes——dozens
' or them“ A Few whites were there, too; but. these were not
‘many. Where, then, were the rest? Perhaps inside the fort.
We were about to proceed thither, when a shout from the . t '
“3 vopposile side of‘ the clearing drew our attention toward that. -
 Casting our eyes toward it, we beheld a number of our

 wrnpanmns beckoning for us to approach them. Without

’ 11058 of time, we did so. finrried explanations folldwed. i /It/
"teams that soon after we had departed from the fort the pre-
iitpc his!!th twonryvflye mapswhtrtooy mt place!

 
   
   

  

 

 
     

 
     
   
        
     
     
       
 

  

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I seman- hocem ; .01..

i proceeded to show hostile intentions. Fearing that they»?

' might be outwitted, those who remained in the fort took im- .,
' mediate measures to prevent any such catastrophe.

‘Soon after that, the fort was attacked by the main band. "

~Aided by the darkess, the Sioux gained theinside of the stock- .~ ,

tale, and after a fierce encounter, were triumphant. About forty ‘_

of our party escaped; but the rest were either killtsl on the , j

' Spot, or else preserved in Order to suffer a more fearful death

afterward. On learning these facts, the first question asked - ' x

‘_th5, “Shall, they be pursued?”
the affirmative.

“ Waugh i” said a hunter, “ there can’t be much more’n a
hundred 0’ the varmints left, arter what we wiped out, 1311’
what war wiped out at the fort. Thar‘s fifty-eight 0’ us,

dzactly." \

After a short consultation, the trail of the retreating Sioux- '
was found, and without further ado, we were soon following 
it rapidly up. By perseverance, we could catch up with our
foes that night. “ . '

Hour alter hour passed, still we proceeded onward, never
wearying for a single instant. As night approached, we he-
came more and more cautious every mile. The trappers

Of course the reply was in »

I

knew from the appearance of the trail that we must be quite «
Then we would come to a halt; and one' 

tear our enemies.
of the trappers would go forward for about a half a mile, to '

ascertain if the coast was clear, then signal for the main'body '1"

:0 come forward.

‘ This‘had been repeated some half a. dozen times, and the
-rapper had gone forwardto recounoiter once more, when we
missed the signal. He had gone for upwards of an hour, and f
we knew from that that. there was something in the wind. I

should have mentioned that, before leaving the fort, we had seH ~ .f'

cured our rifles. We found them just where he had left them,

2"]! ..-

 

The sav-a, 9'
ages were to be bound, but resisting, were killed on the spot. 

 

  

x

't ".L

 

 

in the major’s room. In their hurry, the savages had
looked them; no doubt. -

 

At last, however, the trapper returned, but it was notuntil .. .

:lt had, grown quite dark.

/

0V3!“ _ :-

 

 

 

  

 

 

 

“ By 'the Iivin’ Geehosephat l" he exclaimed, “they’re in g If
‘ fur-itnow..Ar_ter'I-lett'yez,1 hadn’t gone me’n  -

    
 

  

. on the bank 0" the river, an’ the rest a-crossin'fiin‘threcor f0,“
_ canoes they’ve got, to a kind 0‘ island that‘s out in the river;
, ' an’ thar‘s what they’ll stop fur the night, by Geehosephat!
- 7' / Waugh l”

‘ “ ’Ees,” said another; “ we kin surround the island, an’ .give

 

ty ‘ ‘ ’em h—l tharl" .

hey “But,” interposed Scarlet Moccasin, “ you forget the p is- .

th ’ '. oners, By some means or other, they must be separated from

éd . i the savages before we commence the attack."

“1 ’ The truthfuan of the speaker‘s words was apparent to
all.

a :_ “ There is only one way," continued he, thoughtfully, “ as

n’ ;- far as I can see, in which it can be done, and that is this.

a, ,- Let the pgrty be divided, and while one party decoys the main ,

’ '3 crowd away from the prisoners, the rest can rush —in. unbind

. \
x‘ " the prisoners, and hurry them toward the river. I know the
E ' island well." '
1' , “That‘s cl‘arly the best way. But how ar' we to cross

' I, over ‘3"
“The Indians have canoes. We must obtain them. The
night is as dark as Erebus, so we won’t have much difllcultyX
The plan—seeing no better one was offered—was universally
agreed upon ; and we at once proceeded toward the river.
’ About half a mile from the shore was a long strip of , land,
from which proceeded, on the west side, a brilliant stream of
light It was the camp-fife of the enemy. One of the

‘wau‘f-i

F“ entered the water, and swam toward it. His object was to
’  obtain the necessary ,cemos, which, he doubted not, he would
be able to find.

In a marvelously short space of time, he returned, bringing
 with him four good-sized canoes. As many of the party as
' were able to, at once embarked, and, using the utmost caution,

crossed'ovcr to the island. It was pitch-dark, and, taking care

to keep out of the glare of the the, we landed undiscovered.

Due of the party took the canoes back to bring Over the rest.

Our enemies occupied a spot of ground some fifty rods from
7 ; i” ,the river. Atter landing, some fifteen of us prooccdcd forward
' 7.. .twodrun yards lay  us and them. I was

i

 

   
 
 

"1‘ More I see‘d the hull crowd jist nfOre me. Most on ’em m “

hunters, stripping himself of the greater part of his clothes, v

 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
   

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{

\ .Jonsly, a dozen ' rifles cracked, and nine of the remaining In"

4 MW the'spot‘wh‘m we had 

scanner moccasin ;' ‘on,

one of the party, for I wished to be as near to my beloved'ono
' as possible.
' We took our positions in silence, impatiently awaiting the
signal.

The savages—about a hundred in number—were seated in a
circle round the fire, smoking their calumets. The prisoners
were lying at some distance from the fire, and among them I
could recognize the face of her whom I loved. She appeared
to be tied, as well as the rest; and as I noticed it, I involun-
tarily groaned. Her father, too—for he was near mc—noticed
his daughter, and the look he cast toward those round the fire
was terrible. I felt sorry for him. That evening I had heard
him speak to his son, who only answered him by a wave of

. his hand. Alas! I knew the reason. I well knew the oath
Scarlet Moccasin had made, and he was not the man to break

, his word, much as it would pain him to keep-it!
Among those round the fire I recognized the two chicfs——'
' Blofidy Arm and Nashota. There was another actor upon the .

/

y‘ stage who attracted my attention. This was the Londoners _

Poor Briton! He had been stripped of most of his finery,
and, as the savages no doubt considered him more in the light
,of a lamb than any thing else, he was allowed to wanden
about unrestrained. He still possessed his eye-glass, which he

' _ would now and then raise, and survey his captors with an ex-

pression of countenance impossible to depict. His sister, poor
thing, was seated by the side of my darling, like her, pale and
weary. '

‘ For half an hour or more was this scene continued, then it
became changed. Suddenly, our ears were assailed by a loud,
‘ whoop, and the next instant a figure sprung into the very cen-

‘ ter of the circle of warriors“ Before they could recover from
their surprise, and rise to their feet, the figure was gone. It
was Scarlet Moccasin. He disappeared toward the east; and
when they recovered themselves sufficiently, a crowd of sav- -

I, . ages started in pursuit, leaving only about a dozen to guard
g the'prisoners. We waited until their yells‘told them to be .

some distance ofl‘, then came om” time for action. Simultamy ~

’dhms fell forward—dead. Therrennainder cast a ‘terrified-‘A

\ p .
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V _ , . , .\

  

rm: FOREST nonr’s gunnery . k' ’65 . R

Ono Earned md~’fled. In a moment I was by the side of her I ’
, loyed better than all others, and my knife severing the thongs
the t. that so cruelly bound her limbs. Then, half carrying, ha];
gdragging, I hurried her toward the river. ’

in a  :_ At that moment, Scarlet Moccasin again appeared upon the
181‘s ,_ scene. He had succeeded in dcluding his pursuers,but who,
1 I v by this time, must have learned the news, and be hurrying

red  back to the camp.

un- ‘. "Quick l” shouted the young man. “ They'll be upon us in

:ed - l twinkling l”

iro H  It needed not this to hurry our movements; and in less time

111 ’ than it takes to relate it, the women and girls were embarked

of  in the canoes. One of the men that we had just released

lh Went with each canoe, for the purpOse of looking atter the ‘

r

11:  -8afety of the females They were ordered, as well, to return

/ ’ i. with the crafts in the morning, for by that time we would be
ready to leave the island.

0 .  “About a mile down the river, on the right bank,” said
A V'Scarlet Moccasin, hurriedly, as they pushed off, “ is a high clifll
f ‘ Land there, for it will shelter you.” ' .
i " Rifles cooked and ready; we awaited the appearance of the
I. .j— 'foe. We had not long to do so. Ere the canoes were adozen
 rods out in the stream, the foremost of the savages lappcared

,' in the opening. Of course, to see beyond the glare of the the L
 was impossible; and we therefore waited until more should

V. I appear before we fired. One after another cautiously stepped

I, .4 forward until a dozen appeared. Wc—that is to say, as many

‘ of us as there were savages to be seen—fired. No one missed
their aim. ‘

The enemy had now discovered our position, but at a fear-  s
*1; ful cost. Ay‘Vild yell announced their anger, and dozens of
‘ ' Irrows began hurtling above our heads. We were lying at ful
fl length behind a high embankment, and unless our enemies I
' w‘ere- far above us, it was impossible for them to harm us. A, ‘ '
better position could not have been chosen.

- “‘ If a few of us could outflank them,” said Scarlet Moccasin,
\ “it would throw them into such confusion that we could ob'
. . win an easy victory over them. Why not try it? I think it , ,
1 can be done without much danger. How many are willie: 10,5 .‘

.mmpaayun?” . ‘ \ C  »,  '

,\ 1'! J

V,. a“
It

    
    
  

    

 

     
   

 
 
      
   
     
 
 
  

   

ters and Hoppers—bade them followdrim. In less than ten. "
minutes’ time, the cracking of rifles and the yells of the Sioux '

- informed us that the little hand had succeeded in their object. » V
As Scarlet Moccasin had foreseen. the Sioux were thrown into ,
a state of confusion. One of them inadvertently stepped within .
the glare of the fire, and the next instant fell to the ground, ‘ . .'
pierced by a dozen bullets from our quarter. _

For some time after, nothing more was seen of our foes.
We had no fears-about them leaving the island. We knew
that they deemed themselves stronger than we, and as they
imagined the pris0ners we had released were yet on the island} _f
they would not fail to make an attempt to retake them. Per- V .
haps some of the warriors had decided to make the female 

' 'portion of the captives their wives. If so, they were not likely '
to be got rid of without a struggle.

We were not disappoined in our expectations. The final I
struggle came sooner than what we expected. Loud and '

' vengeful whpops wrung over the island, and in a body the Sioux 
rushed toward us. This time they had lain their bows aside, A
and carried their towahawks instead. Simultaneously, fifty _
rifles cracked, and the havoc was fearful. Still, they did not 7" 7
halt. As many of our band as possessed them, drew their" 3
pistols and fired them in the very faces of our foes. Several

‘ of us carried that most dreadful of all weapons in a close com .
bat—the Colt revolver. ‘ ,

With these weapons at our command, we soon proved vic-

. torious. A few of our number fell ; but the loss was nothing
compared to theirs. At last, we thought, they had all fallen

' but one, their chief, and he, too, was struggling for his life. I
turned and watched the stniggle with the greatest attention.
The combatants were Bloody Arm and Scarlet Moccasin. p

Neither possessed a weapon, and the victor would ‘be he
who possessed the greater amount of strength and endurance.
The chief was much larger than his antagonist, but the latter.
we knew, was possessed of far more than the ordinary amount,

‘ of strength. He was far the quickmt of the two, and SW,
needed in delivering several well-aimed blows f in his oppon- 7
gift: face This Weslentirely a new mode of m to the -

 

I y 7‘ I r. ‘c »
mrrones'r Fours QUEEN.

vage, and he seemed zit a loss what to make 0! it. But the -

. trnggle did not last long. “The Sioux managed to seize his
Vopponent by the throat. The latter, planting a fierce blow on
the warrior’s body, in the region of the stomach, caused him
do fall heavily to the ground, gasping for breath. Before the
. savage had recovered himself, Scarlet Moccasin had boun
’ him'tightly with a piece of ‘mckskin thong. a - ‘ ,
We now proposed to obtain some rest, for we had been a long
time Without it. More brushwood was collected and thrown ‘

CHAPTER XVI,
ANOTHER com.

A ' To.increase the misery of our situation, morning came ac-
” Mpanied by a. cold, raw wind, and a drizzling rain. To find
-‘Ihelter there was entirely out of question, for the island com
'  tained not a. a single tree, even. We had not tested a particle
 f Of food since the preceding day, and our appetites since was
«Qansequently rather keen. Our hopes lay in the supposition
3‘ ‘that the canoes would soon arrive and take us ofi'. We em-
” Ployed our time in disposing of the dead bodies of our foes; ‘
_ ' but, as there were so many of us, this occupation did not last
.~;,41°ng. ' / or
 —~ “ You see that high clifl' ‘2" asked Scarlet Moccasin, point-
“ '1 lug down the ‘river.
 0 “Yes,” exclaimed several voices. ‘
 “ Well, that’s where I ordered the women to be‘ taken to.

It is strange that we can see nothing of them. But there is,
0g cuve near there. Perhaps they are in there.” \
_ “ Waugh 1" said a trapper—Bill Price—“ this coon knows,
‘ “ fillet ur' cave well. He‘s beendlmr more‘n onect. Onect in
‘ particular. Boyees, did ’ee ever see an Injury cotehed in I
amp!”  ' ‘1 _
6‘ In a trap, Bill P What kind 0' a trap in in", I 
' A War trap.” ‘ ~ ‘ ‘ =

I

\

 

_ SCARan macs/SIN z. 01!.

' ‘f‘ No, never,” was the universal response.

“ How was it, Bill? , Let’s hear the yarn.” I

“ 'Ees,” said another. “ Any thing: to pass away time.” 1

The trapper, in order to try and dispel the despondency
that had come over most of us, and who had a passion for“ ‘
fabricating “ yarns," said :

“’Ee knows thet when a mu; grabs a wolf by the leg, .
Iooner’n be cotched, he’ll gnaw it clur ofl‘. Wat, did yer I
ever see an Injun do thet ?” -

“ Never 1"

“ Wnl, this child did, he did. It war about six yeern ago, ,
thet. I war tt-tt‘appin’ on the river, and used to hide the skins!
I took in thet very cave we wul'just spenkin’ of. When I
first knm tlmr, thm' war a couple 0’ h’nt‘s thet. hed lnid clnim\
to it. It war not. long‘ afore I hed ’em both ltilletl,~an' that

' hides raised.

“While I. wnl' gone looltin’ nrtei‘ my traps one morn'g,
some dnrned skunks 1mm thnr nn‘ stole :t grist 0’ skins. ‘ The
Way this child swore, war a caution to snakes. It war on-

, possible to tell who did it, fur the enve‘s kivered with nothin’
but pebble-new ole Nick hisselt‘conldn’t see a trail.» How-
a‘omever, the next morn’g, I waited t‘onn’ in hopes that the
vermint would kum ag’in. But he didn’t. He must ’n’
watched me. It war gettin‘ to he night, when I went onect

‘ more to look at my trains, an’ when I got back, by the livin}
:atztmountl the vnt'tnint hed been that‘ ag’i-n ! h

“ Et‘ I hed cussed in the morn’g, it war nothin’ to‘ what I.

{id then. I swore I w’n‘dwotch the thief, or, by Geehose

‘glwtl bn'st a-tt‘yln’. Hel he! he! Just More I hed left
the settlement, 9. frien’ o’ mine hed made me a present, «0’ one
01 them at" traps culled -‘ h'nt' lrnps.’ It war 21 reg’lztr sock-
dolegcr; an’ the fust one I hed ever seen, though I've seen
I grist o’ ’em since. .

“ Wul, it wur with that thet I decided to cotch the varmint.

“ The next morn‘g I sot it, ut‘ore it wnr daylight, jest outside 0'
the cave, and klver’d it over nicely with a few leaves. When ‘
daylight kum. Iwent as usual to look erl‘ér my traps \I /

‘ hadn’t been gone more’n half an hour, when I lieerd one’o’“

. . the most: ou’tu'thly screams ‘ee ever did hear. It warnftlong ' V
', store 1 war s-makin’ tracks fin: the cave. .LRight‘ovpr 3t, ’éa V ‘

 

mm manor Me’s 

. - 2 .
"lees, ar’ the cliff ; and when I got tlmr, I peeped over‘tlie ‘
." edge. The vurmint thet had made the noise war a red-skin.
The trap’had sprung un‘ grabbed him by the leg.
“ I ,wntched him clusly. Arter awhile, he stopped hollerin’
un’ tried to wrench his leg out o’ the trap; but it Mir 0’ no
v use. The Injun didn‘t understand it, an' it held him that
', Lilghter’n. The varmint well kuow’d I’d soon be back, an‘
> what he’d get when I did kum, an’ the way in which
Arc twisted un’ squirmed war a caution. I watched him ontil
' Ni war tired, then went down to him. But I didn’t drth a
Dead on him, just them, No sir-ee. I wanted to get back my
‘ skins, fust.
“ Arter a leetle coaxin’, the red~skin told me whnr he had
;' hid ’em; and it warn‘t long afore I had ’cm all, oncct uguin.
' By Geehosephat i I kept the vurmint in the trap all day, and
, all night, too. In the morn'g I went out to look at him. an
‘ " liewnr gone i” I t
“ Gone, Bill? How did he get away i)"
, “ That’s jest what I’m comin’ at. As I, said nforc, the var-
': mint hisself war gone, but not the hull 0’ him. In the trap
wan-the half 0’ one 0’ his legs, which he had gnawed of, an’ got
away without I" .
A wild yell of laughter followed this dreadful falsehood, . ,
, and some one, in the hopes of catching the old sinner in hi!
1  own trap; exclaimed : '
_,‘ “But the bone, Bill I You forgot that he could not gnaw
' ~ I through that.” ,
a ' “ Waugh l” said the trapper, in a serious tone, “ that an"
‘ easily explained. ~ When—-"
some of us, at least, never heard the explanation that was
» entrant to follow, for at that moment an exclamation from Scur-
let Moccasin interrupted the trapper, and drove all thought. '
’1 of the'story, for the time, from our'heuds.
.« Indians 1," ‘
I ~ ’S‘Geehosephutl Whor ?" exclaimed several, springing to
,, their feet, 'nnd cocking their rifles. ‘
'  “ If I am not mistaken,” said Scarlet Moccasin, “I saw :1
head disappear Just behind that ridgerot‘ ground yonder. It  A
:.MIJ”“” ’ W. . . " I, , i
‘  d'd no‘flnhh the nonmagjnhamnglnfhkflfle pun .

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scanner] necessnr; an,

shoulder with the rapidity of thought, fired. ‘_ Several of £3
. dashed toward the ridge, and looked over on the opposite
side. A savage was lying on his face, and two others were
just. disappearing through the bushes.
I ‘t Waugh 1" exclaimed a hunter, “them must be what‘s left
from last night.” _ . I

A dozen or more started in pursuit. I followed, not with
the determination of assisting, but only wishing to witness the ,
ending of the chase. After following them for about a quar- \ i , If
ter of a mile, one of the trappers succeeded in killing andther
of the Indians. The other had disappeared. ' > '

“ Thar’s another, somewhar roun‘," said a voice.

“ Sartin. I see‘d two 0‘ them a-mizzlin‘ through the

, bushes. Whar kin the other be? P’r‘aps down to the
‘ river.“ . —_ \

At that point the island was only a few rods wide, and a 7
few of the hunters rushed down to the river on both' sides: 7
The savage still lay concealed. Finding that he had not taken
to the water, the trappers commenced beating among the thick
willows that lined the shore. _ ' ,

The scene was becoming quite animating. By this time »
thecrest of the party—with the exception of one or two that
stayed behind to guard the captive chief—had approached, ’
and they joined in the search. The excitement was more in—
tense than if; they had been driving a beer from his den—more
intense because the game was human. ’

Scarlet Moccasin had been among the first that had arrived
on the spot, but he did not join those who were looking among ‘
the willows. He stood near me, his quick eye glancing in ev- '
cry direction. V

“ Singular I" he remarked, to me. “ I thought we finished \
them all last night.” .

Suddenly, I saw him start; and the next instant he raised ‘  
his rifle. Hurriedly glancing along the barrel, I saw at what I, U
he was about to fire. It was the missing savage, He was i'y~’ -» . 1
ing at full length upon the ground not fifteen paces from -
where ,we stood, his body almost concealed by the ‘ leaves and  r, 
Items of some species of creeping vine. _ r i,

As I have said before, Scarlet Moccasin raisedvhis weapon, 1 I; ‘ '
ht before he could touch the trigger, thaws-mung lip, \

 

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I

«are new.

m FOREST

mdgpade a break for the river. The next instant came the ‘
report of the rifle. ' ‘ - ‘
“ Missed" him!" exclaimed Scarlet Moccasin.
, x The savage clashed over the ground with the speed of an
‘ r arrow. Several of thetmppcrs endeavored to intercept him;
. but the Indian, being young and agile, bounded over their
heads, and dived into the water. When he arose to the sur-
,  face ‘again, he was far out in (the stream. He only remained
Elong enough to take breath, then disappeared again.
. The looks of the trappers plainly showed the chagrin they
' felt at being thus outwittcd. During all this, the rain had
been falling in huge drops, and we were wet to the skin. In
vain did we cast our eyes down the river, in hopes of seeing
the canoes approaching; they came not. The trappers were
beginning to get desperate. Hunger was beginning to torture
them; and several came to the conclusion that they could
stand it \no longer. . i
“ Waugh i" exclaimed one, “this hyar child ain't a—goin’ to
stick hyar any longer. Thar’s game a-plenty in the woods
\yonder.” '
. “Very true, old boss. But how ar’ ye a-goin‘ to get it?
.It ’u’d spell yer shootin‘, to swim over.” . - _
‘ . “ I can not imagine,” interposed Scarlet Moccasin, “\why
' _hey do not bring the canoes. I hope they are safe."
.“ Why not," said one of the hunters, “ let a few 0' us swim‘
wear to the other side, an’ streak it through the woods fur the '
cave? It ain’t more’n a mile off, jest roun’ the p’int. Then
\we, kud see what's a~keepiu' ’em." . I
r ' Without further ado, the hunter‘s suggestion was adopted.
The rcconnoitering party was to consist of about half a
dozen, of which'I, at my own reqmst, was one. I hardly need
J say that I felt anxious about my beloved one—anxious in the
U e_xtreme. I would have risked any thing to have learned it
p ; she was safe, or not. Suspense is far more dreadful than the‘
,- reality itself. ‘~ ‘ l
.g n _ I was engaged in making the necessary preparations‘for the " y . l
 (undertaking, when I was accosted by the Londoner. I . .I .
' “ Ha! m1 deaw fellsw, I pweceive that yaw’ro to be an V
 squawmishaws.” V , s g ‘ fur 
' ‘rmu'oanummman - 4’ .- . A

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“ Hal. Well, if yaw should see me. sistaw,'paw cweetsw;
tell haw not to.cwy. And ma paw Minnaw, too; tell haw
I’m pawfectly safe, will yaw? By Jove! this wain will lay’
me up with that dwendful ague l" ‘ '

I promised, and then he left me.

CHAPTER XVII.
“ ROSE, moo ART AVENGED i”

Otm preparations were soon completed. The only weapons
We were to carry with us consisted of a hatchet and a knife.
Of course, our rifles and pistols would only be an incumb‘rance, \ ' C .
. and we left them in charge of those who were to remain be-, ‘ - \ 7
'nd. - - ' 1,,
In We plunged into the water, and swam‘in a direct line for, _’ A
the opposite shore. This reached; we climbed up the bank,
and moved directly into the forest. 7
' Here, our progress was slow. It was likely that the forest' I V
was swarming with enemies watchful as Argus; and too much , _.
caution could not be used. Scarlet Moccasin, who was "our
leader, seemed to know every inch of the ground. Now he
- bade us crawl on our hands and knees through a dense thicket
of brushwood—now he led us close to the river bank, along _ ’
which we would walk for some distance. then regain the shelter ‘
of-the wood. A walk of about a mile brought us close to the
A base of a steep blufi‘. ‘ . t
“ There are two 'waysfi’oaid our leader, coming to a halt, ’
«“ by which we can command a view of the cave. One is to
creep along the bank of the stream, and the other to ascend
the bluff. The latter, I think, is much the best and safer plan,
:though the most diflieult to undertake.” ' /
“ ’Ees," said one of the trappcrs, “that‘s surer’n shootin’.” l ‘
, We commenced. the ascent of the bluff without further ' . ..
parley. Thegaacent was extremely laborious; and it took, no . ,z. '
mall amount of exertion to reach the summit. '  _‘. f'
' We approached the edge looms toward NJM‘ .‘
- ’ | " 4 \ i ' '

-

 

'rnn roams-r ‘ron'r’s omen.

hooked over. The sight was curious. The blufi‘ was some two

« hundred feet in hight ; and at the bottom, a few paces from
7- ~I ' the bank of the river, my eyes fell upon the forms of half a
, dozen Sioux. They were seated on the ground, their blankets
‘ ~ , , closely wrapped around them to protect them from the peiting
" rain. Another glance showed me the entrance to the cave.
It was some ten feet above the heads of the savages, and could
only be reached by a narrow ledge of rock. On the bank, a
few feet from the savages, were the canoes!
1' “ See!” exclaimed Scarlet Moccasin, pointing to threeobjects
, lying close to the bottom of the cliff, and which, up to this
time, had escaped my attention. “ They‘ve had some fighting.
They must have been killed with stones, since those in the caye
,sre‘unarmed—if,” he added, quickly, “ they are in the cave.”
“ Waugh i” said one of the trappers. “How ur’ we a-goin’ at
_’em? If I lied my little weepuu hyar, I‘d soon send one o’
, them a kitin’. As it is, we must fight ‘em at clnss quarters.”
. “ Not so soon,” said Scarlet Moccasin, with a smile, and
, ’~ withdrawing from the edge of the cliti‘.
‘ Around us were lying thousands of bowlders of every size.
V ,The young man seized one of these, weighing perhaps fifty
\ pounds, and once more approaching the edge of the clifi',
', hurled it over! It passed downwnrcl like a streak, and struck
one of the savages on the crown of his head, mashing him to
’ a jelly. The rést of the savages sprung to their,feet with s
yell, and gazed up. Three or four of the trappers had imitated
, their leader‘s example, and each seized a huge piece of rock.
.  ‘ ‘ One after another, these were hurled over the clifl‘, causing the
'  ‘, savages to caper round .in a very lively manner in order to
', avoid being hit by some of the missil. To the'trappers, this V
V, H was sport indeed; and they hurled down rocks in a I perfects . "
’ \V , shower. "r
' The sport, however, was of short duration, for the savages
.fmmle n sudden rush toward one of the ounces, and embarked
L ’in quick haste. Then a few strokes of the paddle sent them
' ,1  ‘beyond harm‘s reach. It was now their turn to become the
" ' ,sssailants, and standing up in the canoe they discharged several.
I »( '1 'a'rrows at us. It was easy, however, to avoid them, and 
' ‘ ‘ thatthe savages,  this, would depart.{ , I, -‘
wewor'o disappointede they landed again, a In ‘ y

'1

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via; 7, I . V "a

 

/ .

SCARLET MOCCASIN; OIL,

/
rods up the stream, where, seating themselves, and’ wrapping
their blankets around them, they kept an incessant watch over ‘
our movements. ' I ,,
~An hour passed ; still they sat there. Our patience was ex:
hausted, and something or other must be done at once. Should
we proceed down the cliff, and attack the savages with our
tomahawks‘? No; that was too dangerous 8. plan. Our cné
emies would discover us before we had t'une to reach them, »
and then we should be at their mercy.
“ If," said Scarlet Moccasin, “ I had one of those bows .ying
at the bottom there, we could soon end the affair. I can use
the bow pretty well,” he added, smiling. ‘ t 
’ I At the bottom were lying several bows, and their quivers of , _ ,
arrows, once the property of the dead bodies desicle them. w
But how was any of them to be procured ? They were lying
at least two hundred feet below us, and tome at least, the thing . '
appeared impossible. To Scarlet Moccasin, however, it ap-
peared less difficult. He apprOachcd the edge of the cliff. and
shouted over :—- ‘
“ Halloo! Andrew! Andrew l” ,
This, we knew, was the name of one of those who were in
charge of the females. A few moments elapsed, then a head ‘
was cautiously thrust out of the cave’s mouth, and its owner‘
peered up at us. His face assumed an expression of pleasure.
“ All safe inside?” asked our leader. V
“ Yes," was the answer. “ But why don't you come down ?"
“Look yonder,” said Scarlet Moccasin, pointing toward the
five Sioux. t“ We have no weapons, except hatchets, and uh; .
less, you help us, I‘m afraid we shall have to remain where we
are, for the present. Do, you think that you can manage to
get one of those bows that are just below you ‘3" A ‘
“ It can only be done by making a quick rush.”
“ Try it, then, for the lives of some of us, at least, ‘(lepcn
upon it.” ‘ ‘ .
The man seemed to understand this, and immediately pref-
pared to carry out the project. He stepped boldly from the ‘
cave, and ran along the ledge which led from it m the ‘
ground—although it was not‘ more than a foot and a rlm'lF, ' " ~
widejwith amazing rapidity. The Indians saw him {bl/111:5 .
I  before they could recover from thier surprise, throw of their : ‘

 

..
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 ,' ,  , 2 ,
run nouns: tom‘s gem.

blankets, and rise to their feet, the man had reached the side
“\"g'if one or their fallen comrades, seized his bow and quiver,
and was hurrying back to the. cave, which he succeeded in.
reaching, in spite of the arrows discharged at him.
During this, he who had suggested the plan had not been
idle. To his belt. he ever had attached a long lasso. He
. 7 had uncoiled this, and flung one end of it over the clifl“. It
V “r: was sufficiently long enough for his purpose, and he ordered
" him in the cave to attach the bow and quiver to it. The
' order was promptly executed; and in a twinkling Scarlet
e I Moccasin held the coveted weapons in his hands. During
I  this, the Indians had been watching our proceedings with
the utmost interest. Whether they doubted our ability or
not to hurt them with one of their own weapons, they stood
perfectly still.
, “ Now,” said our leader, drawing an arrow from the quiver,
' , and fixing it to the string, “we can soon drive them from
their position.”
L He drew the bow with the adroitness of a Sioux chief; and
/ armotnent alter its “twang” was heard, one of the Indians
fell to the ground, his brain pierced by the barbed shah. With
a wild yell, the remaining savages commenced a retreat, and
.- before another arrow bad time to reach them, they had con-
, gealed themselves behind some trees a good distance up the
stream. To attack them now was impossible. The position
they occupied still commanded a view of the bluff, and as
there was no bushes or trees growing upon it which would
: ‘ haveconcealed us, the idea was not to be entertained for a
moment. \
“ Mr. Montgomery," said Scarlet Moccasin, addressing me,
'  3' you can assist us out of the difficulty, if you wish to.”
" “_.I i” I exclaimed. " How?" , .
I. “ This lasso,-you perceive, reaches to the bottom. By
I . sliding down it you _can reach the canoes, and take one ofi‘
' X to the island.”
 No further explanation was needed. I understood well
his meaning, and of course. at once consented to undertake,
. 'me errand. The lasso was lying upon the edge of tho clifl'.
 Again one end ,of if was flung over, and for want of some: . u
'  futon i! ‘0' my, companions grasped a firm 
‘.s'.'".. L'  - , fn‘.,\

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'lthe otherend. The next minute I was letting myselfvha'nd ,
under hand to the ground. The bight was a fearful .one to
survey, but trusting to my strength of arm, I felt perfectly

" secure. I had ne fears froni the savages, for they were too
for off to reach me with their nrrows. .

A very few minutes sufficed for me to reach the ground.
I would have liked to have stepped inside the cave for only

,9. single moment—only to have looked upon her.‘ But I
curbed my feelings, and made it rush for one of the canoes. 
I did not make for those nenrcst me, but for theone lying a'
few rods up the stream, nnd which the snvnges had used’
some time previously. Springing inside. I seized the paddle,
and pushed out into the stream. By this time it had ceased
raining, but dark clouds still obscured the sky. , I 

I soon rounded the point, and came in view of the islandI >
about three-quarters of a mile distant. I plied the paddle‘
with 'all my strength, for I well knew with what impatience
those on the island would be waiting. . '

When I arrived within a few rods of it, I could perceive
them upon the bank in a crowd. , ,

“ Hullol thnr,” a voice culled out. “ thr hev’ee been?
Whar‘s the rest ‘3" i ' 

I did not answer until I reached the bank, then related in
as. few words as possible What had transpired since our leuv- '
ing the island.

/ “ An ’ee say that thnr‘s a few 0’ the vnrmints thar yet 1’”

“ Yes; right near the bottom of the bluff.” : I

“Wnl, then, thar‘s no time to be lost. Pile in, haifj '

' dozen 0' ye.” ' ‘

Five of the troopers stepped inside the canoe, and after

, my rifle and revolvers had been handed to me, we pushed . t . "
off. There was only one paddle, but we made that answer. '

When we were close to the opposite bank, we hended'thd
canoe up the stream, and kept along until we came to the "-
point. There we lnmled. 'l‘he bluff was but nshort dis-_
,tnnce in front of us, and if the savugEs liud not disappeared

« during my absence, we would find them at its bnsc. V I ini;
parted this to my companions, and we pressed forwan with ’1 l
the stealth of a cat. We were not disappointed in- our exp Al ',

. pectntions. The four savsges were still there. The moment ' ' '

..

 

..,

ran some Me’s Quest/n.

' ureteyes' of the trapper: fell upon" them rifles were cocked;
'_ raised and fired. When the smoke floated away, the savages
had ceaSed to struggle. I
\I did not linger to witness more, but bounded toward the‘
min. As I (lashed forward, I glanced up the blufi‘. Scarlet
, Moccasin and the rest had heard the shots, and were
hurrying downward. So had those in the cave, and the
'opening was blockaded with those anxious to know what it
meant. ‘
Afew mpmentslater, I was at the side of my beloved one.
 .It is impossible to describe the pleasure I felt at being with
’ ’her once more—to know and feel that the love I felt for her
was.returned-——t0 kiss her pale lips—to utter words of en-
tcouragement. Did we speak of the future? Yes. I knew
that it was the intention of her brother, as well as her
father, to return as soon as possible to the East, and I had
' the promise of Minnie that, as soon as we reached St. Paul,
v ' - ‘ she would marry me. Of course we converSed in a low
 : 4 tone, as there were plenty of others not far from us.
‘3‘ How long we sat there I know not. When we" are near‘

‘1  whom we love time flies on golden wings.

 We were disturbed by an unusual clamor outside. We \

 ‘ learned that it was caused by the arrival of those who had re-

 § 'maiped longest on the island. Now commenced a lively scene.

i The trappers, one and all, rushed inside the cave, a huge the
a was, lit, and as some of them had been into the woods and
proc’ured MO or three deer, these were soon cut up and being
roasted over the fire. Several of the trappers were so intensely

, hungry that they did not wait until the meat was cooked, but

'  . ‘devoured it raw.

'7 ' I Cut repast finished, a portion of us, at least, were the Wit-
nesses of another tragedy. The captive Sioux chief had been
brought from the Island, and had been thrown down in one

. g '_ corner of! the cave. He was now partially unbound, and led
-‘~‘ “outside by several of the trappers. Scarlet Moccasin, at the
“* side of whose sister I was seated, approached me, and, without
I ‘ appearing to notice her, said to 1110:,
. " “ Monsieur, you know the vow I made. flow, I wish you
.. Ltd see nisjulfll it.” - ' A ; _; ..
’3  ' -. Pit-lag the hand at my betrothed. butwithout uttering": v 
I, ‘1 ‘. ‘ r, , l ‘ I, ' »
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30mm koecAsm; on, ,

word.'I.fellowed ’Scarlet Moccasin outside the cave. The 
' trappers in charge of the captive had taken him a short distance 
up the riyenbank, and were leading him up the bluff. ‘We
' followed in their rear. The poor wretch several times refused
td proceed any further, but strong hands grasped him, and he ,
was half led, half jerked onward. ' ‘ v

We arrived at the summit. The trappers placed the captive V
or: the ground, then released their hold of him. He seemed .
to guess the fate intended for him, for he gazed around him ,. 4»
with a wild andlterrified look.  there no chance for es
cape?" Hardly. The trappers stood in a circle round him, ,
and he knew that to get through it was impossible. ‘ ',

As for the trappers themselves, what they were about ten
witness was but sport to them. Their spirits were any thing- _ A
but east down, as was shown by their laughs and jests, as they“, P ,
stood surveying the poor wretch in the center. ‘ s , _ 3 ,

“ Waugh!” said one of them, “ a day or two ago, that Injin \‘ i
was savager nor a meat-ax, but now, durn him,‘ he ar‘ tamer '

I nor a lamb.” ' ’ v

“Come,” interposed Scarlet Moccasin, stepping inside the
circle, “this is not what We have come here for. Bloody
Arm,” he continued, addressing the savage, who had risen ‘ to
his feet, “ I believe you know me ?” ~ '

“ I know your name, dog of a pale-face ! What Sioux; ‘, 51
knows not that ‘P” and he pointed to the other‘s left mocca-‘ '
sin.

“You do, lying‘Siouxl You know, too, the vow I made; / r:
and you know well what reason I had for making it. Moons

'upon moons have gone by since her I love was murdered by » _

I you and your cowardly braves. They have all,loi1g since, pert , ' V I
V ‘ inked. It it now your turn." '

Without another word from the lips of either, the"
lasso we had used that morning was again produced,;and.
knotted around the unfortunate chief’s ankles. Then he was
dragged to the edgeof the cliff—not that side overlooking the 
river, but that lookingtowardfihe west. The other end of the
lasso was fastened to a jutting rock. . , . .

' The crisis had come. A single push given by Scarlet Moo» 3 . J.

-’ _ min, and the Sioux fell headlong over the clid‘. Oh! itmat  f
I J tearful moment. The push—the snapping of the lasso, not ’

2
1

\ ‘5

 

r "

l

I

run: mnm- . 3521’s emu. '

I

- strong enough to bear the strain—and the percussion of th
\ body as it was dashed upon the rocks below! '
 ' I approached the precipice, as did several others, and looked
_' ""*down. The dead body of the chief was lying flat upon a sharp
" rock—a bloody and misshapen mass. ’ . ‘
“ Rose,” said Scarlet Moccasin, in a voice audible only to
‘ " those who were standing nearest to him, “ thou art avenged!

  31 have kept my vow.”

’ a "When we descended to the cave once more, a council was
‘ . entered into in order to decide what would be our next plan
of action. ~ r
Now that Bloody Arm and his ferocious band had been,
destroyed, it. was not likely that the settlers around those parts
would be disturbed for some time to come. We were now a
good day’s journey from the spot where New Salem had once
stood, and the settlers were desirous of returning as soon as
possible. After a good deal of debating, it was decided that the
females were to remain where they were for a few days longer,
and that the male portion of the villagers, as well as those he-
lpnging to our party, were to return the next day, and rebuild
the fort for their accommodation, until cabins were once more
raised. ‘ _ .. v
y R Of course, now that our goods had been destroyed, it we:
the desire of St. Pierre and myself to return to New Orleanl
as soon as possible. Did I regret the loss? Did I blame my-
- ‘ self for embarking in the enterprise? \
" No! But for that I should never have gained, perhaps.
 what I did—the infections of a noble and beautiful girl.

a

 

C H A P T E R X I X.
CONCLUSION. .

5

EARLY the following morning. the party that was to return
M New Salem departed. I remained behind, for I was one
of the few who had been chosen to guard the cave, in case
of danger, and to keep up a supply of venison. So was my
friend, St. Pierre. ‘ .

To me, those were (lays replete pwith happiness. I was
ever—when necessary duties did not interfere —nt the side of
my betrothed. ‘

For the first two or three days, there was something that
surprised, us well as puzzled me. This was the .demeanor of '
St. Pierre. Ever before, he had been buoyant, witty and 
vivacious; but now he had become silent and thoughtful.
Could it be occasioned by the loss of his goods? 'No. St.
Pierre was wealthy, and the loss of a few thousands would
not be suflicient to east him down. For some reason or othe: ‘
I did not like to ask him. Finally, the riddle was solved.

One evening—the sun was just sinking below the horizon—
Minnie and I‘ were seated on the river bank, a short distance ,1
’from the cave. My arm was around her waist, and we were "
conversing in low tones, when the sound of footsteps caused
us bulb to look round. Walking slowly past, and not per-
ceiving us, were two persons whom we instantly recognized.
They were St. Pierre, and the sister of the Englishman. His
arm was round her waist, and his head bent sideways as he,
listened'to what she was saying. The words I could not }
notch; they were uttered in too low a tone for that. This, V
as well as by the glance which each bestowed upon the other, '
told us they were lovers. ‘ R

I felt. surprised at this, for St. Pierre had often told me'thst I,
lt'was impossible—since he had been once deceived—401’ hint
to, ever love again. And I believed him ; because I was, then,

I: e mere novice in the knowledge of human nature.\ I; ' ,, s1
 .'Presently, the two seated themselves at a. short distance 
.  / ’ l

1

 

\

I m mm’ioxms  ‘. I    ‘5:

from as, still being unaware that there were any observers of "
‘ them. »The two had not been seated long, before another
‘ actor appeared upon the scene—the Londoner.
He did not perceive me and my companion, for his eyes
' .;‘,.were kept steadily fixed upon his sister and my friend. He
‘wts approaching thetn with the stealth of a cat, ins face
I wearing an expression that I should have thought impossible
for a man of his disposition to assume, had I not seen it.

What could the reason be?

I knew that he hated St. Pierre. He had hated him ever
since the affair in the har-romu at New Orleans, and now ,that
he saw him with his Sister—seated at her side, his arm round

“ her waist—it was too much. Lightly as he stepped, St.
\ I .Pierre‘s quick ear caught the sound, and looked round. His
eyes. fell upon he who had caused it; and the latter, seeing
he was discovered, boldly approached the two. ,
 A loud and stormy discussion followed, in which the Lon .
doner, having ‘two to contend against, got the Worst of it.

He soon returned to the cave, mortified and crestfallcu.

jA week later found us in New Salem once more. The fort
' ’(std been rebuilt, and several cabins raised. We lingered in
the village tor a few days more, then a party of us set out for
St. Paul. Among us were Scarlet Moccasin, his father and
fiiSiet‘. St. Pierre, the Londoner and his sister, the trapper,
Bill Pl‘ice, and a number of traders. The distance was to be
accomplished in canoes; and atler biddingthe villagers, whose
hardships we had for the time shared, an affectionate farewell,
wedropped down the blue St. Peter’s.

V . In due time, we arrived at St. Paul. We learned that a
1' boat would leave for the South in two days; and all of us—
~with the exception of the trappers who had accompanied us
I  l, —at once engaged berths. ‘ _ r
, V That very night saw me wedded to the lovely “Silver
I ’rLeaf," and also my friend, St. Pierre, to the Englishgirl. To
' > , my regret, he announced his intention of proceeding at once
to New York,and from thence to London. I hated to part
‘ With him—ea more devoted, a, more noble-heartedastkindu /
 than him, never breathed. ' < , ‘ " '

 

 

 

1 lat my name, like my deeds, be forever forgotten." " I‘l

/ r i \

16,? t ‘ ,wanmr uoccum.

 

Among the last of those to whom I said good-by, waa,’ thol
trapper, Bill Price. ‘ e '1’”
“ Wal, young feller,” he said, grasping my hand, and draw-
ing me to one side, “ So you’ve cottoned to ‘ Silver Leni,‘ eh?
Wnl, she :11" a purly gnrl, an’ no mistake, by Geehosephatl ‘l i _

lmwsumever, this Child don’t believe in women, he don‘t.‘ 1  ,:
/\Vhen I war young 2111' soople, the sight 0‘ a. purly gm‘l ’ud M ‘

'cnsion :1 dnrned rumpus hynr," and the trapper placed his hand
over the region of his heart. “ But they \v‘u‘d soon wanish, 
un’ leave a fellcr happier ’n ever. Waugh! Let's take a
drink."

But one of our party was destined never to accompany us.\  l ,
That was the father of my bride. He died, very unexpectedly, ' '
the night before we started. ' ' , ; :

 

One night, soon after leaving St. Paul, Scarlet Moccasin—.—
whom we now called by his true name, Robert Lorraine—
the Londoner, St. Pierre and his bride, Minnie and I, ‘stood

/upon the deck of the boat, as she was gliding rapidly down '

the Mississippi. 1

“My friends," said Lorraine, "I have now changed my
forest dress for the costume of civilization. We are going to , ‘
the East, where my past deeds will be known only to you. '
Let me be known by the name of Scarlet Moccasin no length ,

 

 

 

 

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_.J-vv—

PUBLISHEDJEMI-MONTHLY. AT TEN CENTS EACH.

llnwke e Harry.

Dead S not.

The lluy “Inert.

lilue Dick.

Nat Wolfe.

'i‘he Whlte Tracker.

The tlutlan": Wife.

The Tall Trapper.

Lightning .1...

The Inland Pirate.

The liuy Ranger.
the Trapper.
reach bpy.

Lang Ilmt.

The Gunmaker.

he Specter Chief.
he B'ar-Killer.
lid Nat.
ndlau Jo.
23 (Did Kent. the Ranger.
2.1 Thcilne-E ed Trapper.

N-631N&VfliflH—3: Amman-a».-

mwu————————_-

30 Eagle Eye.

31 The My-tle Canoe.

32 The Golden Harpoon.
83 The Scalp King.

84, old Late.

35 Ilnlnholt, Ranger.

86 The Boy Pioneer.

5? (Jar-Ion. the Guide.

33 The Heart Eater.

39 “'etzel. the Scout.

.10 The Huge iluuter.

it Wild hat. the Trapper.
12 L aux-ear.

[3 'i‘ Ie Wll te outlaw.

14 The lloz 'l‘ralier.

(5 The Elk Kimf.
46 Adrian, the 1 flat.

4? The Man-hunter.

48 The Phantom Tracker.
49 Muoemin llill.

50 The Wolf Queen.

61 Tom ilawk Trailer.
52 The Mad inner.

53 The Black Wuli’.

54 Arkannar Jack.

55 Blackbeard.

165 Wild Nat, the Gulch Terror; 01'. The Border Huntress. By W. .-
J. Hamilton. Ready ‘

 

58 The River Rifles.
57 Hunter Ham.

5!} Cluudwood.

59 The Texan llawhl
60 Mercilen Mat-

61 Mad Anthony”! Seoul-.1

62 The Luukleu Trapper.
68 The Florida Seuut.
64 The l-lnnd Trapper.
65 Woli’~CaD.

66 ilattlin Dick.

67 Sh ye.

o
The Yellow Hunter.

70 The Phantom Rider.

11 Delaware Tum.

72 Silver Rifle.

1’8 The flkeletou Scout.

74 Little liiiie.

75 The \Vood Witch.

76 01d Half, the Tralp

77 The Scarlet Fhon err.

73 The liurdor Rilleman.

79 Outlaw Jack.

80 Tiger-Tail Seminole.

81 heath-Don or.

82 Kent-m. the Ranger.

88 The s cuter llornemnn.

84 The hree
85 Kaleolah.
86 The ll ter Hercules.
8'! Phil In r.

88 The Indian Senut.

89 The Girl Avenger.
90 The Red Hermite".
9| Star-Face. the Slayer.
92 The Antelape Boy.
98 The Phantnnl Hunter.
94 Tom Pintlo the Pilot.
95 The Red Wizard.

96 The Rival Trappero.
9'? The Squaw Spy.

98 Dusky Dick.

99 Unlonel Crockett.

100 Old Ilear Paw.

Trapperu.

10'! Job Dean.

108 The Wood King.
109 The Sealprd Hunter.
110 Nick, the Scout.

er. 1

13 The Cray-led nlvu
. 118 leer-lloart. ‘
l 114 The Masked Avenger.
: 116 The Pearl Piratee.
116 Black Panther.
J 11? Abdiel, the Avenger.
‘ 118 Cato, the Creeper.

119 Two-Handed Mat.

3 1130 Mad Try-ll [lanter-

121 Black hick.

‘ 122 Kit. B r .
‘ 128 The 8‘50th Rider!-

124 Giant etc.

V 125 The Girl Captain.
26 1 ankee Eph.

7 Silvcrppur.

8 Stillatter Dick.

9 T xe Child Spy.

0 Mink Cont.

1 Red Plume.

‘2 Clyde, the Trailer.

8 The Ian-t Cache. . z
81. The (‘annibal Chief. ,
86 Karalho.

36 Scarlet; ‘Jiuoennin. V
87 Kidnapred.

33 Maid oi’the Mountaln. .
89 The Srioto Sum-tn.

0 Border Rene ade.
Tin- }lute (‘h (‘1‘.
Bovine, the llunier.
)louutnin Rate.

The Red M'alper.
The Lone Chic".

The Silver Bugle.
(‘hlmm, the Che) enne.
The Tangled Trail.

9 The l'n-el-n liand.

0 The Lone Indian.

1 The Branded Bravo.
2 llilly “on lean.

8 The \‘nllry Scout.

4 Red Jacket.

The Jungle Scout.
Cherokee Ch e .

The “audit llermii.
The Patriot Scouts.
The Wood Range".
The Red Foe.
Beautiful Unknown.
(‘anebrako More.
flank. the Guide.

The Border Souut.

y 111 The Texas Ti er.
I

1-1:?!wa—

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mQQGG-UWIUWW'VR'JTwhhi—i—Bnhbhh

i-HL‘I-105l'la'1

166 The Maid of Wyomingz‘ or, The Contest of the Clans. By James

L. Bowen. Ready

[67 The Three Carnival.
W y

illett. Read

. .
168 Th3 Lon Hunters; or. The Mohave Captive. By Capt. J. F. 0. Adams. i. i
Rea y ,.

169 Border Liar; or, The Land Claim. By Mrs. Frances Fuller Barritt.

Ready
1 70 The
Ready

171 The Trader Spy; or. The Victim of the Fire-Raft.

Henderson. Ready

172 The Forest Specte
Ready January

\Villett .

Lined Trail; or, The White Apache.

.9.
A Tale of the Taos Valley. By Edward.’

A

By Edward Willem. 
ByJ Stanley 

r2; hor, The Young Hunter's Foe. By Edward .
t . 

BEADLE AND ADAMS, Pauli-here. 98 William Street. New York.