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Copyrighted. 1885, by BlAnLI AND Ann". Entered ﬂ the Po“ China at New York, N. Y., 35 Second Clnn Man Matter.

 
VOL  02.50 Pubhshed Weekly by Beadle and Adams, Prlce, NoI 

“ Yul" No. 98 WILLIAM Sm. NEW YORK. “"3 00"“

 
HALF TURNING IN THE SADDLE, BE QUICKLY DXSCHARGED A BAH-REL TOWARD HIS PUESUERS.

 
'2‘

The Black Steed of the Prairie.

 
 The Black Steed of the Prairies.

A Thrilling Story 0! Texan Adventure.

Y JAMES L. BOWEN,
AUTHOR. on “ ONE-EYED sm,"1«:’ro., nrc.

CHAPTER I.
THE RANGER‘s rmsr scour.

IT was spring in Texas; beautiful, warm,
glad, sunny spring. The earth, after the re-
pose of the mild winter which that section of
the country experiences, was again putting
on its most beautiful garments. and prepar-
ing itself to run the race of glad summer.
The season of lethargy and inaction was
over. The silent forces of nature, all the
stronger and more subtle for the repose of
the last two or three months, were beginning
to act; and as their action began to develop
itself in myriad forms of beauty, it seemed
as though the forces employed, instead of
being spent must react in the renewed energy
of the human beings who witnessed the un-
folding ef nature.

Yet human beings were far from plentiful
in Texas then, more especially in the vicinity
to which we would particularly call the
reader’s attention. Blanco county is not ex-

, tensively settled at the present time, but, at
the period of which we write, its population
was much more sparse than now. A single

’ settlement, consisting of probably twenty
houses, which had clustered together for
from all neighbors, for the purpose of mutual

,_ protection, might have been observed seated
' upon the banks of a small and pleasant creek.
The beauty and fertility of the place had
drawn thither a small colony of settlers, and,

' from time to time. additions had been made
to their numbers, till at present more than a.
hundred souls were comprised within the
limits of Cedarvrlle—such being the signifi-
cant name which had been bestowed upon
the place. ' -

Inside the settlement the stranger might

‘ fancy himself still within the bounds of civ-
ilization, but let him ride forth upon the
balmy morning of this spring day, and he

' would soon ﬁnd the idea dissipated Around
them, upon every hand, lay the .wide-rollin
prairies, diversiﬁed by groves of woodlan
and stretches of forest, with here and there
elevations to which the inhabitants gave the

 digniﬁed name of mountain ranges. There
' were farms and ﬁelds about Cedarville, and
some of the early-stirring ones of the farmers
hsdbegun to make preparations for their
. summer’s campaign.

A i From the Village came the busy hum of

general preparation. ' The mill was in full

 
blast, ﬁnishing the work on hand before the_
stirring times of full spring should call for
every available laborer. The blacksmith
sweat, hammered and blowed from early
(lawn till dark, preparing horses and oxen,
carts and implements for the wear and tear
of the busy season.

The “store,” which had been the great
resort through the winter, was almost de-
serted now, for the men began to realize that
the time for actual labor had arrived. The
last quart of bad whisky had been sold, the
building temporarily closed, and the mer-
chant was busily engaged in laying out his
garden plot, just in the rear of his dwelling.

So much for Ccdarvillc. As We said, no
one in the place would have supposed that
he was so far from the “rest of mankind."
Eighty miles away the nearest dwellings
might be found, a mere settlement, not so
large as Ccdarville; while still further, in
another direction, was Austin, the capital,
itself upon the very borders, and exposed to
sudden dashes of the fearless Comanchcs.

To the west of Cedar-ville, the prairie ex-
tended in the most beautiful diversity ;forest,
plain and gentle hills mingled in the most
bewitching variety of scenery. No wonder
that the site had been chosen for the nucleus ‘
of’a great city—for such the founders had
conﬁdently expected to see rise, sooner or
later, upon the village site. Ten, ﬁfteen,
twenty miles away, and still the same feat-
ures of the landscape were preserved, save
that the hills rose higher, and the forest as-
sumed a darker, and at times, a. more un-
sightly aspect.

But at the ﬁrst-mentioned distance we
pause, since there appears an object upon the
plain with which we have something to do.
A single horseman is riding easily, carelessly
over the prairie. Although his course is away
from Cedarville, and directly into the wilder-
ness where never a white man passed to
remain, we perceive that the stranger is not
an Indian. His small, graceful ﬁgure, fair
complexion, regular features, and brown hair,
but little removed from “ﬁaxen” in hue,
proclaim his Eastern birth.

Eleazar Roberts had come from the Eastern
States years before, when a mere boy, and
since that period his life had been passed
upon the frontier of Texas. Ilis health had
ever been somewhat delicate, and out of door
exercise had been prescribed as the only pos-
sible means of building up a constitution for
him. Such exercise, then and there, meant
far more than the words will convey to the
general reader.
tures to which he was thus introduced. the
young man seemed to ﬁnd his life. Nothin
else possested half the interest to him Whic
centered about a. reckless dash at hombre.

 
But, in the stirring adven- . '

,.1

The Black Steed of the Prairies.

bear-ﬁght, or a (leer—hunt. Mounted upon
his favorite black steed,‘Ranger, he would
gallop away over the plains many a long
mile, and the more hair-breadth his escapes,
or the wilder the adventures which bcfell
him, the better pleased he was, and the better
it seemed for his general health.
Gradually health seemed vouehsafed to
Eleazar. Though of small frame, his mus-
cles developed as his favorite pursuits re-
quired. and the sunken face gave place to the
glow of healthy Vigor. Yet his wild life was
not relaxed. Now that it was no longer a
necessity for him to he abroad upon horse-
back, his inclinations remained, and year in,
year out, he followed the same hazardous
life. And none were more skilled than he.
‘ Constant practice had made it almost a sec-
ond nature to him, and woe to the game upon
whose track Eleanor chanced to fall! Their
fate was almost certain.
Of late, however, other game than quad-
rupeds had called for the attention of the
young hunter. The ﬁerce and unscrupulous
Comanches had taken upon themselves the
task of driving from their hunting-grounds
the intruding white men, and more than one
frontier settlement had suffered at their
hands.
No attempt had as yet been made upon
Cedarville, though scouting parties of the ln-
dians had been seen in the vicinity the season
previous. Young Roberts had, indeed, en-
countered somc of the parties, but no con-
ﬂict had taken place, as the scout, who was
invariably alone on such occasions. deemed a
speedy withdrawal the soundest policy for
,him.
Now, however, he was looking for the sav-
age foe. Intelligence had reached Cedar-
ville, with much appearance of probability,
that the Comanches Were upon the war-
' path. and had pledged themselves to drive
, out the inhabitants, or destroy them and the
i place together. Many had disbelieved the
report, but Elcazar felt that it might be true,
, and "when morning dawned he saddled up
Ranger, and rode forth alone to look for the
possible enemy.

Eleazar’s manner. as he rode onward over
' . the plains, was such as to have convinced an
observer of his ability to compete with the
wily savages in border craft. Sitting in his
. saddl with an easy grace which no study
 coul impart, one hand resting carelessly

‘ , against his side. while the other grasped the

 reins; casting intense glances toward each
‘ ~ covert which might screen a foe, and giving
wepmest scrutiny to every fresh feature of the
landscape; it were difﬁcult to imaginea more
perfect icture of self—possession than that
presents .by the young scout. , ‘
' The weapons which repoccd within a few-
‘, -, ~_ 1‘ > y r - v

.
, , I ‘\.'.\;I L t ,
 ,. .

‘ \
, tr,

e.

 
“wreatehanginrm‘dtr ,

inches of his hands would have been taken
in proof that he was prepared, so far as one
man could be, for whatever he might meet.
There was his riﬂe, not particularly long or
heavy, but tried and true; a brace of repeat-
ing pistols, at that time the especial dread of
the Indians upon the border, and a long, keen
knife.

It scarcely seemed possible that a face of
such unusual beauty, with a form and ap-
pearance of almost feminine grace, could
belong to a trained hunter and scout. The
Very name seems suggestive of strength and
roughness, yet nothing of the kind appeared
in the ease of Eleazar Roberts.

Mild blue eyes beamed out from beneath a
pale, transparent brow; a soul of gentleness
and truth alone seemed looking throuin
them. A regular nose, full and somewhat
ruddy checks, :1. faultless chin and ﬁrmly-
marked mouth, the upper lip covered by a.
silky brown mustache, completed the young
man’s tout ensemble.

The horse which bore him was a power-
fully-built, jet-black animal, with courage
and sagaeity depicted upon his face. he
stepped with a proud air, as if exulting in,
the burden be here, and seemed fully to \en—
ter into the spirit of his master’s mission.

Suddenly Elcazar drew u on the rein, and _
bent his keen glance towar a section of for-
est some ﬁve hundred yards distant. There
was no object to be seen, and after a scrutin-
izing gaze the young man shook his head
slowly, and allowed Ranger to resume his
pace again.

“ Possibly I’m mistaken,” the (young man
mused half-aloud, as he examine the condi-
tion of his weapons. “I merely eau ht a
passing glimpse of some object, or fancrcd I
did, but before I could think what it should ,
be it was gone from sight behind that nest of
bushes. Possibly it was a deer or buﬁalo—
most likely ‘twas—but I certainly fancied‘it
bore more resemblance to a horse than any
other animal that is to be found on these
prairies. May be it wasn’t a. horse, but if it
was, how came it there?”

Musing u on this question, which was im-
portant to him under the circumstances, he
approached within two hundred and ﬁfty
yards of the forest, keeping a sharp lookout
all the time, not only into the margin of .the
forest, but in all directions. ‘

Nothing appeared, however, to conﬁrm his
ﬁrst impression that all was not right, and a. .
man less cautious in his temperament than
young Roberts might have passed on,.con~ -. ‘
ceiving that the sup sod horse was only a ‘ '
vision of his imagination. Not so the young I. i;
scout. A ’ ' - ’-

“,I  almost within riﬂoehot,”.h_e mu '

«aqua his

 
4".

  
The Black Steed of the Prairies.

 
somewhat. “I shall go no nearer till I

, have made the circuit of this piece of wood,

and found what it contains. If Indians are
there they must have made a trail, and quite
likely I can ﬁnd it if there is any such
thing."

The idea of riding two or three miles about
the forest, and keeping up a sharp lookout
all the way, not only for signs of trail, but

for enemies upon all quarters, would have.

seemed an excess of caution to many good
hunters. But the young man reasoned dif-
ferently. He knew how many fond friends
at Cedarville were exposed to the onslaught
of the Indians should they really make a de-
scent therc, and no pains seemed too great to
get at the truth of the matter. Besides, it
would be far from pleasant to leave a force
of savages between himself and home in case
he should wish to return. '

The problem was solved sooner than Rob-
erts had expected, and in a manner some-
what out of his programme. He had pro.
ceeded but a few yards upon the new course,
when there was an audible movement within
the forest, and presently a horse and rider
appeared from behind a bank of under-
brush.

.Eleazar drew 11 his steed, and turned his
head again tower the east, for his worst ap-
prehensions were conﬁrmed by the appear-
ance of a horseman. He was a Comanche,
mounted, armed and decked out after the
manner of his people when upon the war-
path.

v But, the Indian seemed to mistriist that the
young man was not disposed to seek his ac-
quaintance, and advanced a few paces, mak-
ing all the amicable signs he could command.
He even pointed to the forest behind him
and the plain around, to indicate that he was
alone, and that his mission was peaceable.
Eleazar was not to be deceived. He well
knew that Comanches never wandered about
singly, for it would be certain death to such
as should be caught by any other tribe, or by
the whites. Besides, this fellow was clearly
upon the war-path, and Roberts felt that this
was not the horse he had seen upon the other
occasion. These facts were sufﬁcient, in his
mind, to justify a. widening of the distance
between them, and as the Indian slowly
trotted down toward him, he gave the rein to

_ Ranger.

1 The noble animal seemed to know what
was required of him, and at once struck up-
on a slow trot, just suﬂicient to keep the Co-
manche at a distance.

With this movement upon the part of the

,. youn ‘ scent came an unmasking of the ene-
f nyfe. orces. ' At leasta score and a half of

nted d edr‘ed-skinsburst‘from
.  . with m

“1‘!”

forth in sharp pursuit of the lone white
man. .~ .
Some half-dozen shots were ﬁred as the " é‘
party made its appearance, but Eleazar paid '- i, __"’
no heed to them, not a single ball coming » 1
within any thing like dangerous proximity. ‘ '  v‘ ‘
Seeing at once that the race must be a. ten-
mile heat, with life as the stake, the young
man set about his proper course to win.

Excepting, perchance, some of the wild
tribes of the East, the Comanches are proba-
bly unsurpassed, as a body, in the art of
horsemanship. Accustomed to it from earli-
est infancy—almost living, in fact, upon
horseback—and each warrior holding a social
status according to his skill, there is, cer-,
tainly, no just reason why such should not be
the ease.

Recollecting that some thirty of these wily
and expert riders were upon the track of
the ﬂeeing white man, and mounted upon
such steeds as they had provided expressly
for the War-path, it will be seen that no or-
dinary task lay before the scout if he would
escape them. No white man could have
been better prepared for the race. If the Co-
manches lived in the saddle, the same could
be said of himself. His horse, too, was a ‘
picked animal, well conditioned, and proba-
bly in better trim for a long race than the
majority of the Indian animals. Still,
where so many were in pursuit, the odds
against the pursued towered in fearful pro-
portions.

But young Roberts did not pause to count ‘
the adverse chances. He glanced at the vari-
ous landmarks which he had passed, and lay-
ing his course direct for Cedarville, he urged
forward his faithful steed. Away they went
with the speed of the wind, the single white
man and his host of pursuers. At the ﬁrst,
the Indians seemed ready to glut their fury
upon the victim whom they supposed already
within their grasp. But, when half amile. »
was passed, and the black steed had gained 1
pereeptibly upon most of the pursuers, they
ceased to shout and yell, bending themselves
to the object of their race in right good earn-
est. .. ., ..

A ray of hope lit the young man’s soul as
he perceived that he held his ground thus
far. He had feared most for the ﬁrst sud- _
den dash, and now that it was over, and the '-
result became a mere matter of speed and,
endurance, he had little fear that Ranger.
would prove inferior to the savages’ animals "
in those respects. '

On the went. A mile was assed—an- ',._
other an another. The force f the (Jo-H
manches was now much scattered, such lof-
their animals as had proved inferior fallin

 
yells: set
,ei  .\ ,

gradually to the rear, while: two or 
whiny gaining. 

  
.were unini

  
- The Black Steed. of the Prairies. ‘ ‘ r , . '

 
Ranger. Yet, at the present rate they would
hardly overtake Eleazar before he would
reach the settlement; at the same time their
followers would be so scattered, and so far
behind, that those in advance would hardly
deem it good policy to ride too near the set-
tlement.
The race continued. Nothing upon those
smooth prairies to check the mad speed at
which they were going, and such woodlands
as lay in the way were carefully avoided.
‘ix miles, at least, had been passed. Not
.i ore than two—thirds as much remained be-
if,;;:tween the lone white man and safety.
Twenty rods behind him came the nearest of
his pursuers, three in number, nearly abreast.
Quite as far behind came a single Comanche,
and the balance of the party was scattered
along over half a mile of plain, all equally
persistent in the pursuit, as though success
depended upon the individual exertions of
each member.

Casting back occasional glances, Eleazar
saw with anxiety that the nearest of the pur-
suers were gradually gaining upon him.
He endeavored to urge his horse to yet reat-
er exertions, but of this he had no nee , for
the noble animal was straining every muscle
in the work.

“ I see you can‘t go any faster,” said Rob-
crts, patting the foam-ﬂocked steed upon the
shoulder.

Yet, when he glanced behind he saw that
the trio of pursuers were unmistakably nearer
than when he had last seen them.

Another mile, and half the distance be-
tween them had faded away. Not more than
ﬁfty yards separated the pursuers from the
pursued. The Indians had attempted to
discharge arrows, but, ﬁnding that it could
not be done without slackening their speed,
they had given up the attempt, and devoted
every energy to the overhauling of their vic-
tim.

Not much longer could the crisis be avoid-
ed. Eleazar saw it, and realized that all
hopes of reaching Cedarville must be aban-
doned. Something must be done to check
the pursuit, or he never should see it
again.

.There was his riﬂe, but he could not think
of discharging that under the circumstances.
Then be p aced a. hand upon one of his pis-
tols, and drew it forth. Half-turning in the
saddle, he quickly discharged a barrel to-
ward his pursuers. A whoop of disdain
came from the Indians, as the shot sped
harmless; but it was quickly repeated, and
this time not in vain. The ball struck a
leg of one of the horses, and steed and rider
calme to the ground in a sprawling, confused

1 e.

p Eleazar had no time to see more. The

 
success of his shot had' given a momentary, 

cheek to the other two pursuers, and he did
not fail to make the most of their indecision.
AlmOst at the same time, mounting a little
roll of the plain, he saw Cedarville some dis.
tance away, but still looming up before him
as a haven of safety.

The Indians saw it, too, and whatever
may have been their feelings, they paused,
and the party gathered about the place where.
their comrade had been checked in his on-
ward career.

 
CHAPTER II.
THE LOVERS.

HAVING thus gained comparative safety,
and seeing the foe abandon the race, Elehzar
allowed his horse to slacken its pace, at the V
same time shlfting his position in the saddle

somewhat, and casting alternate glances be- '

fore and behind.

“Breathe a little, good Ranger, breathe,"
he said, regarding the sweat-rocking condition
of the animal with a sorrowful air; “you
have done nobly. It was no fault of yours
if you didn‘t quite distance them Comanche

fellows; you did your best, and with a little » , ,"

help from one of these good sixvshooters '
we’ve proved too smart for ’em. Yes, it’s
true that they’ve given up the idea of getting

hold of us, though the Lord knows what~ "

mischief they’ll be up to next—I don’t.”

As he turned his gaze once more toward . '

the settlement, Eleazar beheld something
which ﬁxed his attention, and after looking
a ﬁlament he began slowly muttering to him-
se :

“That look of dimity is Delia and Euphie. '
of course; none of the other girls ride out
with beaux.
cent with them, and that other one is Eras-'
tus Hobert, that’s a ﬁxed fact.
ride with his sister, and Erastus with De ia,
but that isn‘t the way it is. Harry never.
rides unless Cordelia is along, and Erastus—-
well, never mind. If he wasn’t such a noble,
good fellow I’d be jealous of him. Why
couldn’t I have been created tall, and strong,“
and man-like, as he is? Never mind, Eras?

I

tus is happy, and I would not disturb him in 

Of course, too, it’s Henry Vinai- ,

Henrymi ht. 5‘

his bright love-dream.” -' ‘ j.

A silent tear was

dashed away fromthe . .

speaker’s eye, then, as if conscious of his 4

yvteakness, he seemed starting into renewed:
1 e. - '

“ What am I thinking of ‘2” he exclaimed,
in tones very different from his own in mo-
ment before. “I must warn them of dune.
ger. The Indians may see them, and if theiv
should feel so disposed another race woul *
come off. 1 want the Indians to stay inthe,

 
' ‘ H lar maiden.

- i -, manchesl
.miles with them.

 
The Black Steed of the Prairies. ~

 
background if they will. I feel no satisfac»
tion in this relentless warring and shedding
‘of human blood."

Turning his horse toward the newly dis-
covered party, he urged him forward at a
sharp trot, endeavor-ing to attract those he
sought by repeated signals He did not
care to shout, for the Comanehes might not
discover them otherwise, and he had no wish
to draw his friends under observation.

At the time of discovery he was some two
miles due west of Cedarville, and the riders
were some distance to the southeast of him.
They had not apparently observed him, but
soon cau ht his signals, pulled up their
horses an turned toward him.

There were four of the equestrians who
thus waited for‘Eleazar to gain speaking dis-
tance, quite unable to comprehend his con-
tinued silence, or understand the suggestive
motions which he directed toward the west-
ern plains.

The party were equally divided, two be-
ing ladies, and the same number of gentle-
men acting as their escort. As Eleazar had
decided, they were Euphemia Vincent, her
brother Henry, Cordelia. Tompkins and Erase
tus Hobert.

There was nothing especially peculiar in
the appearance of Erastus Hebert. Tall,
well-formed, with an open face. upon which
the impress of noble manliness was indelibly
stamped, he seemed just the man to occupy

’ the place he now ﬁlled—that of escort to
Euphemia. Yet, as we have seen, his pres-

. , ence there was a source of deep grief to

,Eleazar Roberts. who would have periled all
else he held dear u on earth to have been
counted ﬁrst in the cations of that particu-

Wondering what could so seriously have

discomposed the young hunter, the ,four
.Waited in suspense till he was near enough
to communicate with them by‘word.

“ What is the matter, Eleazar ?” demanded
Henry Vincent, as the former came within
speaking distance. “Your horse is pouring

‘ with sweat, now, and you look, yourself, as
,.  you had ridden thirty miles this morn-
in .”

‘ g“Herr ,” said Eleazar, pullin up his
' horse, “ fear the day of our oom is at
hand. The plains are swarming with Co-
I’ve just had a race of about ten
There were thirty, at
least, in that ang, and you know they aL
ways go in bo ies. They are just over that
‘ big roll, partly behind t at strip of woods,
‘ now, and I think the best thing you can do
is to get back to Cedarville, an s read the

. news. There would be sad WOI‘( it they
should dash into our little village." _
Casting half-frightened glances in the di-

 
rection of the enemy, the party quickly
turned their horses and rode back to the set-
tlement, Erastus galloping 011’ to warn a
party of men who were working at some dis-
tance from the place.

An opportunity was thus aiforded for
Eleazar to ride in beside Euphemia, and of
this he promptly availed himself. He had
no opportunity to converse with her, if he
had wished to do so, since he was required
to relate the story of his mornng adventure
in full, and by the time this was done to the
satisfaction of the listeners, they had gained
the conﬁnes of the settlement.

They had scarcely entered the street when
they met two men walking very slowly
toward the open ﬁelds. '

“Father, the Indians are coming!” cried
Cordelia Tompkins, bending toward the
older, and raising her hand by way of warn-
mg.

“W‘ho brings this story?" demanded the
companion of the man addressed, regard-
ing the horse of young Roberts with a keen
glance, but directing his question to Eupho-
line.

He was a short, heavy-set man, evidently
some thirty years of age, with a physiogno-
my which many persons would have called
handsome. To the close reader of the hu-
man face, however, there seemed too much
of evil ﬁre in that black eye, and too much

of animal passion stamped about the mouth, '

concealed though it was by heavy masses of
board. The brow, too, was low and narrow,

though the hair curled away from it in very ‘

splendid waves.

There were many in Cedarville who did
not quite trust Felix Drake, for he had not
long been a resident of the place, and there
was that in his manner which careful men

and women did not like. He had been there '

long enough, however, to become not only a
professed lover, but an earnest suitor for the
hand of Euphemia Vincent. True, he met

little encouragement from any source, but he _

announced his intention quite as strongly, ‘

and since Captain Jonah Tompkins found
something to rather admire in his character,
those who knew or professed to know most
about it, fancied Felix might stand a better
chance to win the prize than either Eleazpr
or Erastus.

Not of this mind, however, was the lady
herself. The attentions he endeavored to
force upon her were anything but pleasant,

and she took every opportunity to render‘

him aware of the fact. All did not do, how-
over.
evil glance of his eye, as it rested upon
Eleazar, riding beside the object of his re-
gard, could not be mistaken.

"Elcazar brings the news,” said Euphe-

He was bold and persistent, and the *

 
The Black Steed of the Prairies. a}

 
mia, quietly, in answer to the rather importi-

nent question.

“When I see Injuns ’round, I’ll be con-
vinced thar may be some danger,” was the
retort, rather contemptuously given.

“-A race of ten miles, with thirty Coman-
ches behind me, gave all the proof I wanted,"
said Eleazar, quietly.

“ You don’t mean to say that you was too
smart for thirty Injuns on a long stretclnl
hope!" exclaimed the fellow, with half-lifted
hands, regarding the speaker with mock
astonishment.

“Not by any means. But I do say that I
had a race for life with that number, and
here I aml"

“ I give it up; you can tell a bigger story
than I can,” was the insulting rejoinder.

“ If you will ride out to the square of
wood beyond the second plain, you can sat-
isfy yourself as to what I say being true or
false.”

The young man was much angered at the
insolence of the fellow, but he had borne it
repeatedly, though it cost severe effort to
keep from a stinging retort.

“I’m not used to bein’ sent off on fool’s
arrants,” was the last sentence of the fellow,
as he turned away. .

“ What a conceited simpletonl” remarked
Euphie, as , the vain braggart turned the
nearest corner. “I could box his ears
soundly for questioning you like that!”

There was ﬁre in the maiden’s eyes and
speech, so that Eleazar took courage to say:

“ It makes no diﬂ’erenee to me what others
say; if you believe me, Miss Euphemial"

he maiden started. and colored slightly,
while Jonah Tompkins broke in upon the
silence b exelaiming, in rather loud tones!

“ We] , Roberts, if what you say is so, I
suppose the sooner we begin to notify folks
the better.”

. “ If you are disposed to doubt my word, I
can only tell you what I told Felix Drake. A
short ride will convince you. My ﬁrst busi-
ness will be to attend Ranger, who needs
care after the race he has had.”

, “ I don’t disbelieve ye,” was the quick rc-
‘ .sponse. “ But then it seems so wonderful

that you should reach Cedarville in safety

with such a pack at your heels.”

The sometime captain hastened away, and
the other members of the group did likewise.
A hum and bustle, pale faces and frightened
aspects told that the fearful news was rapidly
spreading. Mothers gathered their children
about them; men rushed to their dwellings
and put their arms in order, reloading such
as were empty, while their hands trembled,
I, and each window or door was put in requisi-
v ,ftion to note, the earliest appearance of
. danger. - ~ ‘ ~ _

 
CHAPTER III.
THE sn'rrLEns’ DEFENSE.

Nor more than a quarter of an hour could
have elapsed from the moment of Eleazar’s
arrival, and anxious parties were still bus '
with the various preparations, when the gal: '
lop of a horse and loud shoutin without,
startled nearly every soul in edarville.
Ilastening to doors and windows, they saw
Erastus Ilobert galloping into the place,
swinging his hat. above his head, and shout-
mg:

“To arms! To arms!
comin' like mad!"

No wonder that many a heart stopped its
pulsations for the moment, and many a
shriek of despair rose upon the still morning
air. As we said, the inhabitants of Cedar-
viile had settled in proximity to a common
center, in order that they might afford
mutual protection to each other in times of
danger. Yet so conﬁdent had they felt of
unmixed prosperity, that no plan for con-
certed action, no system of general defense
had been agreed upon. Not even a house in
the place had been duly fortiﬁed, so that it

The Indians are

might withstand the assault of any consider- . '

able body of fees.

Under these circumstances, each man could
only make his own dwelling as much of a
fortress as possible, and stand upon the dc-
fensive to the best of his ability. No sooner
did the wild-looking horseman, with his ter-
rible tidings, pass up the street, than a gen-
eral closing and barricading of doors took
place. The non-combatants sought such
places of safety as presented, while the men,
with tightly grasped weapons, stood watch~
inn- for the expected onset.

iike a rushing wind, twenty-ﬁve or thirty
Indian warriors came dashing into the prin-
cipal streets of the place, and proceeded some

distance before making any hostile demon- '

stration.

So sudden was their appearance, so rapid
their movements, and so ﬁerce their aspect,
that none of the man marksmenwaitin for
them dared to ﬁre til it was too late. hen;

the nerve necessary to pull the trigger was \ ’1 I. ’

gained, the enemy had passed, and the men
reﬂected that perhaps it would be better to
wait for some overt act, after all. If such a
plea was really anything more than a vain ex-
cuse, it was soon set aside, for the Com-
anches were bent on mischief.

. Eleazar Roberts feeling that the ﬁrst care

should be bestowed upon the noble animalx ‘.

whose exertions had saved him from a‘horri-

ble death. rode Ranger direct] to his stable, “

and proceeded to groom and eed him With

his usual care. .Startled by Hobart's c_ , he 
y‘collected his Weapons, closedand h - '

loc Ute

s

*\.

      
/

   
\

(s ' 'rhe Black Steed of the Prairies.

 
door and started for his dwelling-place, not
far distant.

He did not reach it undisturbed. When
near the door he was espied by the savages,
who had just dashed into the place. A cry
was raised, and several of them turned their
horses toward him, brandishing their weap-
ons, and uttering many unmistakable expres-
sions of pleasure at having encountered him
again.

Eleazar was truly brave, and consequently
not taken aback by the movement of the sav-
ages. He knew that nothing but the most
prompt action could save his life, and that a
stand, once taken, must be maintained until
death or deliverance came to him. Spring-
ing behind a wood-pile, sufﬁciently large to
screen most of his body, the intrepid young
scout leveled his rifle across the top, and
brought it to bear upon the foremost of the
Indians.

No sooner did that dark muzzle look them
in the face, than their purpose seemed to be-
come shaken. The Comanche might not
have realized that there was hardly one chance
in a hundred of his reaching the object of
his wrath. But he knew the risk he was
running well enough to pause, and his ex-
ample was followed by those who came be-
hind him.

Under other circumstances it is probable
that a single person, presenting such a deter-
mined front, would have been left to enjoy
' the advantages of his position; but the sav-

ages had an especial affection for Eleazar,

and a plan was at once adopted to insnare
him.

While the present party remained in front
to watch him, another squad sought out

' some way by which they could gain a posi-
tion in his rear, and thus take him at adis-
advantage. The young man realized that
this plan was likely to succeed without a
reasonable chance for a failure, and it would
be no more than justice to say that he began
to look anxiously for some means of escape
from his unpleasant position He Was upon
the point of attempting something desperate,
when the door of the nearest house was open-
ed, and a cheer voice sung out:

‘,' This way, e; run like! mad, and we'll
’tend to the Injuns!”

It was Erastus Hobart who spoke, and
close to him stood Henry Vincent and Cap-
tain Tompkins, with weapons ready.

If Eleazar had cared to hesitate, there was
no opportunity now, for the Comanches had
gained his rear, and set up a about of tri-

. umph as they beheld him. Those in front,
- too, began to press up, so that no time was
_. to be lost.

phand, and running his eye over the ground

 
Catching a revolver in his right

 
before him, the young man darted for the
open door. \

Almost at the same instant some of the In-
dians made a similar move; but two shots
from the door, one of which took fatal effect,
checked them. Seeing that the one they
cared most to secure was certain to escape, a.
number of them sprung from their horses
and began to assall the building.

The house was not massively built, but,
under present circumstances, is was folly for
the Comanchcs to assail it, since they were
directly in the midst of the village. No soon-
er, therefore, did the dcfenders of the house
commence ﬁring from the windows, than the
other inhabitants began to ax 'aken to a sense
of their duty, and from a dozen buildings
came the deadly missiles, carrying destruction
into the ranks of the exposed Indians.

Two of the Comanches were killed, and
three mortally wounded, within a very short
time, when it appeared to their fellows that
their most politic course would be to with—
draw. This the did, with nearly as much
speed as they hat used in making their en-
trance, leaving their dead, and as many
wounded horses.

Repeated cheers rent the air at this turn of’
affairs, and in a moment, more than a score '
of men, with riﬂes in their hands and pistols
peeping forth, were walking over the scene
of the conﬂict. Some of the ﬁrst were able ’
to secure mementoes of the affray, which
others regretted much that they were not able‘
to obtain, but the general good feelin was
too great to allow of any contentions. giver
one‘ declared the victory to be complete. ‘
little plunder had been picked up by the sav- ,
ages. and a few horses and cattle changed ’
owners without due legal process; but be-‘
yond that the dash had been a total fail- '
ure.

The joy of the settlers was great, and measa
ures for prompt action in time to come were
immediately advanced. But where all hada
plan, and each wished to elucidate his own

above all others, it is easy to see that, apart I ~ ‘

from the confusions of language, incident to”
the oceasion, there was no one to listen.
Jonah Tompkins noticed the state ofaf- .
fairs. and raising his voice, he remarked: ,
“If ﬁve or six of you will volunteer to kee ’ ‘
watch that the enemy does not surprise us. T

will invite the balance of you to my house, , " V, ‘

where we will decide what is best to be don
for our future safety.” ' r
The necessary volunteers were ﬁnally ob

tained, and when they had set forth, the bal- ,, 
ance of the party, now much swelled in" .
for the house of Captain‘s

numbers, set out
Tompkins.

The ﬁrst measure proposed was to put the  I;  i' 

entire village under the command of one man,» 

 
/

/

 
6

 
\

 
1 numbere

 
The Black Steed. of the Prairies. 9

 
who should be obeyed in all things. This pro-
position was at once adopted, and then came
a severe task, that of choosing the man.
Twelve “ Regulators ” comprised the peace-
preserving force of the place in ordinary
times, and eleven of that number were pres-
ent. They were naturally anxious that their
chief should be the favored one; but “ Cap-
tain ” Jonah Tompkins had once commanded
a militia company in South Carolina, and the
preference was given to him.

" Three cheers for Cap’n Tompkins!”
called out one of the Regulators, with com-
mendable frankness. They were given with
true backwoods gusto, each one of the party
present 'oining to the full extent of his
lungs. hon quiet was again restored,
Tompkins rose to his feet, and proceeded to
thank them for the favor conferred upon
him. He then proclaimed his views of the
situation, assuring those who listened that
he had no doubt the Comanches would make
desperate eﬂorts to avenge their loss, and
drive oil? such of the settlers as they could
not destroy.

Unprepared for such a visitation, the only
hope of the white men lay in constant watch-
fulness, never allowin the savages to take
them by surprise. This precaution together
with the advantages they possessed of acting
upon the defensive, and possessing superior
weapons, would no doubt enable them to
conquer in any assault which the savages
might make.

The better to assist him in reducing the
' whole matter to a system, he proposed to
divide the forces into three squads, which
should relieve each other at ﬁxed intervals
in keeping a sharp watch upon the move-
ments of the Indians. The different de-
tachments he proposed to place under the

[three men in whom he had most conﬁdence
' as leaders, and whom he then named:

Eleazar Roberts, Henry Vincent and Erastus

Hebert.

There was evidently some little dissatis-
faction with a portion of the men in regard
to the subordinates thus selected, but a
sense of the danger which threatened them

‘. overcame all minor jealousies, and they ac-
quiesced in the arrangement with cordial
good feeling.

The s uads were then divided 01! and
the one under Henry Vincent go.
ing upon duty at once. The families left
without suitable protection by this arrange-
ment Were directed to take up quarters with
such of their neighbors as were better de-
fended, and every man was to remain within

1 ‘i. \ springing distance of his arms till further
 notice was given.

 . It was somewhat past noon when these

 
52/

 
Wowations were made, and those not upon

 
duty soon sought their several abodes, to
assure their anxious families that all was
Well.

The afternoon passed in quiet. No de-
monstrations were made by the Comanches,
nor were an of them seen. Many, indeed,
began to fee a degree of certainty that they
had left the place. This idea, however, was
soon dispelled. About the middle of the af-
ternoon scouts were sent out to scour the
country. Not three miles from Cedarville
they were ﬁred upon on approaching a
wood, and one of their number slig tly
wounded. Plenty of dusky forms were seen
in the forest, and after giving back shots at
long range, the rangers turned and rode back
to the settlement. For some reason they
were not pursued, the savages evidently
choosing to keep their own counsel.

Commotion and excitement ruled once
more in Cedarville upon their report being
heard. Ever one was now convinced that
they must su er another attack when dark-
ness should add its horrors to the scene.
That terrible agent of the Indians. ﬁre,
would no doubt be employed, and they real-
ized how illy prepared the place was to with-
stand the devouring element. In the even-
ing there would be a moon, to render the
darkness less favorable, but after midnight
this would not be the ease, and then it was
that the most was to be feared.

Under these circumstances Captain Tomp-
kins called in his subordinates, and a discus-
sion was held as to the best course to be pur-
sued. It was thought best to assemble the
entire population of the village together in a
single house, before darkness came on, each
bringing the most valuable articles with
them for safe keeping.

But where they were to gather, it was not
so easy to determine.
need of a block-house was particularly felt.
The building must be one to admit of the
most vigorous defense, so situated as to leave
no covered way for the savages to approach
it, and in a position least liable to take ﬁre if
a general conﬂagration should become the
order of the night.

All of these requirements could not be
fully met in any single dwelling, but one‘

was selected after a general examination,
containing plentyr of room, and favorabl lo-
cated. The tidings were spread, an at

once the fear-stricken ones began to ﬂock ,

thither with such valuables as they could con-
vey. .
Darkness came, and though it brought no

rest to: any in Cedarville, it found them all ,

prepared. A dozen brave men were outly-
ing for an appearance of the foe, and twice
that num er waited within the improvrsed‘
fortress for any signals of alarm. Lights

It was now that the ,

     
19‘ The Black Steed of the Prairies. I

 
burned carefully shaded, so that none with-
out should become aware of the force there
gathered.

The night was not far advanced, when one
of the men. sitting close to a window. peep-
ing through an opening which had been
made to answer the purpose of a loop-hole,
gave a start and slight exclamation, imme-
d_i3tely beckoning Captain Tompkins to his
51 e.

“ Look yonder,” he remarked, pointing to
a hedge-row at some little distance, “ thar’s
an Injun behind them yere bushes, jest as
sart'in as we’re born men. I seen him come
out from ahinrl that pig-pen, yonder, and cut
ahind them bushes He’s aimin’ at that
house of Rawlins‘s, or I’m mistaken.”

‘f You are certain of it, are you?” the cap-
tain asked.

“In coarse I be, cap’n. When I see a fel-
ler, I karkilate I know him. I reckon I’ll
tell a red from a white man, cap’n.”

“ I hardly see what a single Indian can be
doing. skulking about in that manner,” said
Tom kins, his face revealing the perplexity

' he fe t.

“I think it’s to be seen,” suggested Ele-
azar, who was present. “ He is a spy. You

'can see that he must be shrewd, to have

avoided our pickets and gotten in here. I
think his intention is to kindle a ﬁre near
this place, and while we are engaged in
putting it out, his imps will make a dash
upon us.”

“On my word, Le, I think you may be

' right "

, “ I. will take two or three men and go out.

V Dead or alive, we’ll bring him in, so that

you can all see how he looks.”
“I’m afraid you’ll get into trouble, my

“'No danger in the world. We’ll be
so still about it that a mouse would not think

" we‘s after him."

While speaking thus, Eleazar had selected
two men. one of them being the person who

had made the discovery, and glided forth

very silently from a door upon the opposite
side of the house.

Moving with the utmost caution. and tak-
ing the most secluded route, the trio rapidly
neared the place where they conﬁdently ex-
pected to ﬁnd the Indian. Nor were they
disappointed. In an obscure angle of the

building they saw a crouching form, which

proved to be that of a Comanche.
v How Eleazar’s blood rushed at the pros-
pect! Nervoust clasping his knife, he

. whispered his directions in the ears of his

'4\

  
companions. One was to move with him, the
other to cut off the savage’s retreat in case he
should discover them.

", Don’t shoot on any account,” was the last

 
order, “ unless he makes a fuss loud enough

so that it won‘t do any hurt. We‘ll take him I

alive, if possible.”

Waiting a moment for the other to gain
his allotted position, the twain moved for-
ward as silently as possible. They were dis-
covered when within ten feet, and the Co-
manchebounded quickly away. But heran
not far. His foot was caught by an unseen
handmrmedwith giant strength,and he found
himself thrown violently to the earth.

Before he could recover or even cry out, he
was seized by the throat and held, his arms
ﬁrmly bound behind him, and the cold muz~
zle of a pistol pressed to his head. .

“ Get up!" was the brief command.

For a wonder. the Indian obeyed, rising
suddenly to his feet.

“Now tramp; and make no noise, if you
want to live a moment longer!"

Again he obeyed, and indeed it was not
well to be avoided, as a burly white man
held each arm, while the third walked be-
hind. pressing the cold-mouthed reminder to
his head.

They were not long in reaching the ren-
dezvous, where the captive exhibited unmis—
takable signs of surprise at beholding the
abundant preparations which had been made
for defense. But after a single glance or
two he became calm and stolid again.

Hoping to gather some information from
the prisoner, Captain Tompkins took him
aside and gave him a vigorous plying with
interrogatives, but to little effect. So far as
it suited his purpose, the savage could be
communicative enough. He was free to
confess that it was the intention of his com-
panions to destroy the place: that the, party
was led by a wild young chief, who longed
for the distinction, and who would not hesi-
tate to sacriﬁce most of his warriors if it
could be accomplished; that if the present
party did not fprove sufﬁciently strong, the
entire force 0
come what would, that moon should see an
end to the settlement. When his own fate
was spoken of, he did not seem at all appre-
hensive; but reminded them that the day of
reckoning was not far distant, when his com-
rades would avenge him most fully.

More than this could not be drawn from
him. After a series of efforts. which only
exhausted time without bringing any results.
the attempt was given over. Additional
bonds were placed upon his limbs, and he
was stowed away under guard.

That he had gained the place with the
hope of kindling a ﬁre, was quite evident,
be having been caught in the act. That the

blaze of the ﬂames was intended as a signal"
to his companions, they also felt certain. In _ ,
any case, there could be no doubt that an j 

  
-

 
the tribe was pledged; and - V

 
I The Black Steed

of the Prairies. 11‘

 
assault was intended during the night, and it
was deemed best to send word of what had
transpired to those upon guard, so that their
’ vigilance might be doubled.

Several men volunteered to bear the mes-
sage, but Eleazar insisted upon being allow-
ed to depart, and soon let't upon the per-
chance perilous mission. After delivering
the tidings he brought, the intrepid young
hunter moved out nearly half a mile in the
direction where the Indians were last heard
of, returning satisfied that they were not at
hand upon that quarter.

Reaching the rendezvous a short time be-
fore midnight, he found that he must at
once set about relieving those now posted,
With his own squad. As he was passing out
V at the door, a fair hand was placed upon his
arm.

“Do you think there is danger that the
Indians will break in upon us again during
the night, Eleazar?”

It was the anxious face of Euphemia
Vincent which looked up into his own. His
very soul thrilled for the moment. He
longed to clasp her in his arms, and give
her the assurance that there was no danger.
But this he could not do, feeling morally
certain that, before he should return to the
house again, another harvest of death would
have been reaped in that lately quiet settle-
ment. Too many sad thoughts were con-
nected with the idea to allow of its being
entertained for a moment, and, endeavoring
to assume a cheerful look, he replied:

“I hope not; but if they do come, they
will ﬁnd us prepared for them.”

The maiden turned away sad, having read
the young man’s feelings from his manner.
She rejoined the women and children, many
of whom had found temporary forgetfulness
in slumber. Imitating their example,
Euphie spread a blanket upon the ﬂoor,
placed a pillow upon one end of it, and
sought, though for some time in vain, to woo
the drowsy god to her embrace.

Sleepless sentinels were posted at loop-
holes in all parts of the building, peering
anxiously into the darkness for any si us of
Indians. An hour, two, passed; an still
. all was quiet. The timid began to hope,
v and one after another of those not upon

duty sunk to sleep, With their arms beside
them.

Suddenly there came a ﬂash upon the
darkness, a loud report, and a cry of warn-
1ng, evidently from the lungs of a white
man. In an instant every one was on foot.
with weapons clinched, waiting anxiously
for the next development. -

. . For some time all remained so quiet that
"xthe began_to think the shot had been an
“Widental discharge, or a. false alarm. But

\r ' , \

 
r .z

 
, into 'em, as Eleazar has with his.

 
no deﬁnite conclusion had been reached when .

three or four shots in quick succession were
given at no great distance from the place of

rendezvous, followed by yells and shrieks as ,

of ﬁends let loose.

Surely the Indians in large force were not
far away, perhaps even under the walls of
the building; and their movements had been
so silent that the closest listening had failed
to catch any indications of their approach!
What was to be done? This silent attack
had not been expected, and no preparations
had been made to meet it. Where the Co-
manches might be, could‘onl be determined
by their occasional yells, an even these had
now tﬂmost ceased. /

“ What shall we do?” asked Captain
Jonah of Hobort, who stood beside him.
{)1 own up, I don’t know what is for the

est.”

“ I don’t know what to do, cap’n.‘ Per-
haps I‘d better take my squad out, and pitch
Hear the
fellows pop awayl I’m afraid they’re hav-
ing a hard time."

“ We must help them,” said Tompkins,
who really felt fearful lest the valiant band
should be annihilated. “ Perhaps one of you
had better go out and try to help him.”

“ I will go," said Henry Vincent, speaking
quickly and energetically. “My squad is
the freshest. Come, squad two!“

“ Squad two ” was promptly on hand, and- :

opening a small back-door, the daring little
band debauched in search of adventure, some
of them going to' their death.

Nothing of the kind could exceed in horror
such a night attack. With no defense which
could serve them against a vigorous on-
slaught, assailed by a foe whom they could
not see, and of whose strength they were un-
aware, with two—thirds of their force abroad,
seeking in the darkness for their prowling
enemies, the situation of the settlers was any- ,
thing but pleasant. The men remained at
the leap-holes, watching anxiously for the
appearance of their eopper-hued foes, and,
doubtless, a score of the miscreants were
within reach of their riﬂes, if the darkness
could be lifted for a moment. ’

Jonah Tompkins and Hebert walked
from room to room, below and above,
hoping to hear something which would
allow them to judge of the state of affairs
without.
of a weapon, all was still—oh, so still and
dreadful. 

The women and most of the children had
risen, and were sobbin

inglin low, sad tones'o friends who were

exposed to all the dan er, and who, might i.

even now have fallen in t e strife.

Erastus , When 93qu

~

\ e

   
alone or were talk- “

‘in his 
, ,/  '

But, save now and then the crack ‘. "

.gK-

 
‘ '- “Saluted by shots from those who ﬁrst espied

" 'lmidst, and the next moment a band of well-

 
1's " The Black Steed

of the Prairies.

 
walk, for a. grasp, almost wild, was placed
upon his arm, and Euphie clung convulsive-
ly to him.

“What do you think? Do you suppose
Eleazar will be killed?" she asked, gazing
into his features, which were hardly revealed
by the dim light.

“ I don‘t know—I trust not.” was the half-
absent reply. Then, recollecting himself, he
added:

“ Why do you ask? Is he so much
dearer to you than all others in Cedar:
ville?" ,.

It is possible that there may have been a
slight tinge of jealousy in his tones, but
Euphie was too excited to notice it. Only
she quickly replied:

“Not that, Erastus; but you know what
a dear good boy he is, and how much we
should all miss him.”

“‘Yes, I do know it, Euphie. His is a
'noble nature. Ishould not blame you for
loving him. even if it doomed me to disap-
pointmentl”

Something further might have been said
at that time, but a quick call from one of the
lookouts reached Hobert‘s ears, and he has-

. tened to the place.

Just before he reached the scene, however,
there came the ﬂash and report of the man’s
riﬂe, followed by a jubilant exclamation, as
he fell to reloading:

“Durn their old carcass! Thar’s one less
Of ’em. anyhow. That fellow showed his
painted mug when the ﬁre shined on't, and I
jest put a ball through it!"

“ Bravo for Jack!” rose upon all hands.

Upon looking forth, the state of affairs was
readily comprehended. The Indians had
succeeded in setting ﬁre to some buildings,
and the light from the ﬂames was-gradually
dispelling the utter darkness of the night.
One of the villains had ventured too near the
glare, and a bullet from Jack’s gun had cut

' short his career. Other forms were seen ﬂit-
ting hither and thither, and eager riﬂe-barrels
followed their movements.

As the ﬂames mounted higher. and the
light spread, Indians were seen in various

' directions and positions, all of whom were

them.

- Gradually the attention of the red-men was
drawn to the building. and soon a half-score
more had gathered behind a neighboring dwel-
ling, with the pur one of making an attack.
The supposed wea point was duly selected,
5 and the massing of the Indians completed for

 ,‘the rush, when they were startled by a sharp
Volley, which sent three or four from their

 
rmed settlers was 'upon them. ,
Taken. ,by surprise as the Gomenehes

.s'r -..

  
were, they did not attempt to hold their
ground, but ﬂed. receiving a volley from
the extempore fortress as they broke cover.

Meanwhile, the ﬂames mounted higher and
higher, extending from one building to an-
other, either from natural causes or by the
hand of the savages, till already nearly half
the settlement was in ﬂames.

But the assault was at an end. The power
of the savages had been broken by the last
blow. One after another of their number had
fallen, till only a mere handful remained.
The red glare of the ﬁre-light revealed more
fully the ghastly number of those who had
fallen, and the survivors bade a hasty adieu
to the place. Their horses’ feet had been
muﬁlcd in coming in, so as to make no noise,
and in like silent manner they departed,
leaving their fallen to the mercy of the in-
habitants of the burnt and plundered settle-
ment.

 
CHAPTER IV.
A MOURNFUL MORNING.

“Come out and ﬁght ﬁre; the blasted'

Injins hev gone!” was the cry of a frontier
Stentor, as he dashed by the house from
which so many anxious ones were peeping
forth.

“Thank God for the victory!” said Cap—
tain Jonah, and the response was taken up
by many of those present. «

“Come on, my heartiesl" shouted Eras-
tus Hobert, throwing open the door and
rushing forth. “ There is work to be done
yet.”

And so it must have seemed to each one
of his followers, as they stepped upon the
threshold of the door. The entire lower half
of the village was in ﬂames, some of the
houses enveloped past all possibility of re-
claim, and others but just kindling. Active
forms were seen ﬂitting about, but they were
the forms of friends. '

As the new party reached the scene of ,

the ﬁre, evidences of the desperate struggle
were but too thickly strewn all about.
Here an Indian, there another, and anon a
fallen settler was to be seen; for all of whom
the world of strife and wars had passed away
forever. But even their dead friends could
not be regarded now. The monster foe still
raging in their midst must be subdued, or
they would all be left homeless. The task
was no ordinary one. A well-appointed
ﬁre company, with the latest-improved
steam-engines, would have been well-tasked
to meet such a conﬁagration. The air was
so heated and ﬁlled with smoke that one
could scarcely breathe, while showers of
sparks and
vouring element. '

 
cinders.went,oﬂf to spread the dew " ' I

 
a m, 
«damn 

v 

akmw

 
n.)
.. m

r x _“ Not I,” was the quick reply. “When all

The Black Steed of the Prairies. ‘ ' 13

 
“ Let it burn!" shouted Tompkins, as his
eye took in the scene. “Let it burn, but
save the upper part.”

Fortunately this seemed practicable, and
toward it the efforts of all the men were di-
rected. The wind was in their favor, and a
creek was near, so that a line of men was
quickl formed, reaching from the bank to
the burldings most endangered, and buckets
of water passed in quick succession from
hand to hand.

The roofs and sides being kept eon—
stantly drenched, even the ﬁerce heat and
occasional fall of sparks did not kindle
them.

The buildings at that particular point hav-
ing been ﬁrst lighted, were naturally con-
sumed ﬁrst, so that the heat gradually sub-
sided, and the efforts of the exhausted men
correspondingly relaxed. But, if the safety
of a portion had been insured, it was with
sorrowful faces that the settlers gazed upon
that sea of ﬂame, which no human power
could control, and beheld the utter deso-
lation of half Cedarville. Houses, goods,
provisions, implements, all were ascending
heavenward in great masses of smoke and
ﬂame.

Daylight was just beginning to struggle
up in the east when a horseman rode into the
untouched portion of the settlement, and
after withdrawing the Indian blanket which
covered his ﬁgure from view, proved to be
none other than Eleazar Roberts.

The smoke and powder blackened heroes,
who were just ceasing from their toil and

‘ beginning to think of their fallen compan-

ions, gathered around him with many ex-
pressions of satisfaction.

“ Whar ye been?” demanded a tall, un-
gainly fellow, with frank cordiality beaming
upon ever lineament of his face. “ Durncd
if we di n’t think you’d gone under; wal,
we did, by thunder.”

“ Not so bad as that,” returned the young
scout, with a smile. “I’ve been taking
a ride with the Oomanches, to see if they
really meant to leave us, or only went off to
trap us. ”

“ You did? Wal, how is it? Be the crit-
ters honest or not?”

“ I didn’t see more than seven or eight of
them, all told, that rode away, so I hardly
think it probable they will come back. But
my Idea is that, sooner or later, we shall see
another force of them. How have our folks
fared in the long run?"

“We are just going to see, now that we
have got the ﬁre within bounds,” said Captain
Tompkins. “Do you go up to the house,
where the ladies will feel glad to see that

on are safe." '

 
,here; why op’t_.you go out and help

 
the dead have been picked up, and there is no
danger of the fire, it will be time enough to
think of rest.”

A general search was held, and the fallen
collected in two bodies. When no more of
either hue could he found, the mournful
count was taken.

Three of the white men had been wound-
ed, and made their way to the house. Laid
upon the green turf, in front of the general
rendezvous, were seven others, who had fal-
len’ to rise no more! Around them a mourn-
fu], weeping band had gathered.

Upon the opposite side of the street were
placed eighteen Comanches, either dead or so
severely wounded that they could not lon
survive. All who had been able to cravﬁ
away seemed to have done so.

Surely this was sorrow enough to have
come in a single night! One-half the smiling
settlement of the day before a mass of smok-
ing, ﬂaming ruins; twenty-ﬁve cold, stiff
forms lylng there upon the turf, and others
wounded, bleeding, suﬁering! Surely aday
of horrors had fallen upon Cedarville. _

“Where is Felix Drake?” was asked,
when all the dead had been brought in, and
every person accounted for with the single
exception of the individual named. “ Who
has seen him?”

It was quite easy to ascertain who had not .
seen him, but no one seemed to know any-’
thing of his whereabouts. Many a tragical
fate and errand of daring similar to that per~
formed by Eleazar, were suggested as ac-
counting for his absence. Indeed the major-

ity began to reckon one more in their count , ‘
o

the caualties of the night. \

“That miserable Drake is up to the
house,” said a woman, who overheard some
remark which [was made in regard to his
supposed fate.

“ What is he doing? He has no business

there!” exclaimed a half-dozen voices at g

once. I _
“ Here he comes; you can ask him."
At that moment the person under cons1d‘

oration stepped from the door and approach-‘ ’

ed the party at a brisk pace.
He had been seated beside one of the loop-

holes when the eall to “ ﬁght ﬁre ” was iven, , ‘.

and although he heard the order, obe ience
was no part of his intentions. Kee ing his
position till the house was emptie of 115
male occupants, save the wounded. who

found their way in and were prom tly at— .

tended to by the ladies, he commence walk-
ing back and'forth, glancing out upon all
sides as if in fear of the enemy, thou hho
saw only his fellow-settlers toiling herorcally' '
to stay the sweep of the devouring ﬂames.
“Drake, on can’t do any particular good r

, 811‘}

I .

  
.,‘.y

14

The Black Steed of the Prairies. '

 
the ﬁre?” groaned a poor fellow who was

suffering from a shattered arm.

“ I wish the ﬁre was checked,” the shrewd
fellow returned with an air of great apparent
anxiety; “but I don’t feel that it would be
right to go and leave all these women exposed
as they would be. Some man ought to be
here, for them Comanches may be a-lurking
around and break in afore anybody knows
what they are about.”

But Felix Drake was watching for an op-
portunity, his eyes constantly following the
movements of Euphemia. He felt that now
was the time/for him to make some brave ad-
vances, and he trusted that the citadel of the
maiden's neart might be reduced by one or
two well-directed shots.

Presently the opportunity he sought was
presented. The maiden paused before a
window and looked forth at the tier scene
ﬁresented to her gaze. He stoppe beside

er. .
“ Those brave fellows work nobly," he be-
gan, with the air of one who feels what he is
saying. “ I wish my duty would permit me
to be with them.”

“ And why not?” Euphie asked, turning
full upon him. “ I see no necessity for your
remaining here.”

Her searching gaze made him feel uncom-
fortable, but he would not abandon the ﬁeld
without a single shot.

“ I cannot go,” he said, in low, plausible
tones. “ and leave you here with no protection
more able than yourself. I never should for-
give myself if harm should come to any of
you—to you especial] —by my ne lect.”

" Do you fancy t at we shou d be «my
much safer in your preence?” the maiden
asked, bitterly. I

“ I do not know,” was the tart reply.
“ I have a knowledge of weapons and am
not quite a coward. If any dire chance
should call for assistance, I might be of some

’ servme ”

“ We are quite willin to take the risk,”
was the emphatic re'oin er. “ There is the
place for brave men, ’ and she pointed to the
toiling settlers, who were struggling against

‘ theﬁre-ﬂend.

,Felix was nonplused, and somewhat an-
noyed by this decrded language; but, curbing
his resentment, he turned away, saying, in

(the same plausible tones he had ﬁrst used:

"You speak as though I was a cow-
ard. Possibly love for you has made me

so. I only trust I can prove to you at
a some future time what you seem to doubt at

present.”

" _ , Upon one pretext or another he continued
. ,to walk the roomstill daylight
‘ fallen had all been collected, he walked forth,

When the

 
meeting the sharp inquiries which greeted
him with his usual plausibility.

The morning sun rose upon a sad, sad
scene. Although the settlers had succeeded
in driving off the Indians, all felt that it had
been done at a great cost; indeed, the victory
was all too dearly won. If they mourned
their fallen companions, from the tender
common ties which had existed between
them, the loss was not more severe to their
prosperity as a settlement, perchance not as
severe as that of houses, goods and animals.
Besides, the damage they had inﬂicted on the
Comanches was far from triﬂing, and there
was every probability that the tribe would
take speedy measures to avenge their fallen
braves.

Under these circumstances it was but natu-
ral that some thought of seeking a place of
safety before they should share the fate that
had befallen their less fortunate companions.
The voice of one graduall became that of
many. The women and chi dren unanimous-
ly, and many of the men, clamoer for an
abandonment of ill-fated Cedarville, and a
retreat to some point where assistance could
be had to repel further advances of the Co-
manches.

Gradually the entire remaining population
gathered in a sort of council, and those most
earnest for the migration hesitated not to
urge their friends to join in the scheme.

“What are a few dollars,” they urgedA-i
“ what are houses and farms, even, compar-
ed with the lives of ourselves and children?
Let us leave all, and seek safety before it is
forever too late."

One by one assented that their best inter-

ests seemed to lie in a withdrawal, and an»
nounced their intention to seek safety nearer '

civilization. let come what would.

Captain Tompkins was appealed to at
length, and silence fell over those assembled
to hear what he should say in regard _to the
contemplated evacuation.

" To my mind,” he said, “it is best either
to abandon the place or take some measures
for better protecting ourselves. I scarcel
know which would be the better way.

could tell you what I think, but all might '

not ao‘ree with me.”

“ §peak ’er out. Let’s have it.” said -'
“Let us know what you 

several voices.
think. ”

“There is just this much about it,” said.
Tompkins, speaking slowly, and weighing...

his words. “If we leave this-we shall have
to go to Austin—that is settled. It is full
a hundred miles there. We can’t go it in
less than three days, with what teams we can
rip; up. Whil on the way we shall be ex-

osed to cons;6 j assaults from the Indians,

if they choose to molest us further, and W9  

I

 
at. ,

 
The Black Steed of the Prairies.

l

1‘.

 
r, ” Can make but little defense against a large
‘ 3. body of them., To my mind we can make
_' ,- our position here much stronger than the
attempt to ﬂee. If we leave this place, we
-“ shall not only give up all to the hands of
l ./ the Comanches, but incite them to open a
' warfare all along the border. If we hold
on to what we have, and give them a good
11 ht, we shall be able to hold them in check
ti 1 a force can come from Austin to our as—
sistance. I am in favor of trying the latter,
i by all means.”
' “But how will any one convey word to
Austin of our peril?” asked a fearful citizen.
“If the whole body of_us cannot safely
. pass, where will a single messenger be
found?”

“And on the other hand, if one man,
mounted upon a ﬂeet animal, cannot reach
the place in safety, how will the whole body
proceed, hampered as we shall be with goods
and wagons, women and children? My
plan is to stay and ﬁght like men for our
homes, and friends, and honor; while one or
two, on the ﬂeetest horses that can be pro-
cured, depart for help. In this manner we
shall show the Indians that we are not a
band of cowards!”

“That’s the talk, cap‘n!" said some of the
more daring; while many among the discon—
certed still wavered in their decisions.

“I say, stay and ﬁght, like the men we

' profess to be!” exclaimed Eleazar Roberts,
rising upon a bench. " Who else says so?”

One and another echoed his words, till it
seemed that the idea was really in favor with
those who had almost been panic-stricken a
few moments before.

“ I feel safe in thinking that all had rather
stay than leave their houses, after all,” said
T9mpkins. “Now, the question is, who
Will volunteer to ride to Austin '2"

" For a moment there was no response, and
.1 ' then Eleazar stepped forth.

I With Ranger under me, I am ready to try
“ I think we can make

 
in ' s

 
. it,” he said, calmly.
l the trip.”
‘ Now that the matter was taking a deﬁnite
form, there were several who seemed quite
’ . anXious to accompany the young scout.
4 Since one might fail, it was deemed best to
select two, and as the matter could he decid-
ed in no other way. the lot was resorted to.
Eleazar refused to withdraw in any case, and
the cast was made for one to accompany him.
«Bits of paper were marked and drawn. It
fell upon Erastus Hobertl
. No sooner was the lot determined than
Eleazar advanced, with hand outstretched,
which Erastus at once grasped.
. “So it is you and I,” he said, with a smile
,.  , of satisfaction. “I could not ask for a bet-
, ,  tar cempanion."

 
9 ,

   
“Nor I. I feel sure we shall succeed.”

“We must. There shall be no such word '
as fail. We cannot afford it, with all these
people depending upon us.”

“True, true. And now, since we must
be going, let us lose no time in getting
ready.”

The two young men left the buildin to
prepare their steeds for the journey. list
without the door the se arated, as their
animals were quartere in iﬁerent stables.

CHAPTER V.
OLD SAM.

“ LE, my boy,” said a familiar voice, as
ﬁoung Roberts neared the stall occupied by

anger, “ you are goin’ ontew a. mighty
skeery bizncss. D’ye know that?”

The young scout turned, having recog-
nized the voice of an old scout, named Sam
Reynolds, under whose instructions he had
ever made the most rapid progress in horse-
manship and general border-craft.

“I know what you say, Sam,” the youth
replied. “It is true. But Ranger is a.
match for an of the Comanche horses, and
I have considerable faith in my own abili-'
ties.”

“ Ye’r’ right thar.
good scholar, I‘ll say for ye. But, you’ve
no idee what a time you’ll be likely to hev

ittin’ to Austin. Tell ye what, my boy—
’11 give ye a new riﬂe to take yer place. ”

“ What! To go to Austin in my stead?”

“Yis, my boy; I’ll dew it. I’ll give ye the
best riﬂe what kin be skeert up.”~
“Wh , Sam, if I dreaded the trip ever so
much, wouldn't let an old man ike you
take my place. But l’ni determined to go.
so that I will not be hired to stay at home on
any conditions.” .

“But why not, my boy? Don’t ye think
I could make the trip as well as you? I’ve
had quite as much to dew with the Injuns in
my day as you.” _

“ No doubt you would do quite as well as
myself, perhaps better. But there_ is nouse
of arguing the matter. I have deCided to go,
and go I must ” = I

“What d’ye suppose Miss Euphie would
say, if you should git knocked over by one
of the pesk red-skins?" V I .

Eleazar llad been feedin and grooming.
his horse thus far throught e conversation ;
but at this question, asked in low and sig-
niﬁcant tones, he ceased work, and turned
quicklyr to his interlocutor. At ﬁrst he
seemed somewhat displeased, but in a mo-

 
earnest. .
“ What do you suppose she would say!”
he asked after a momentar hesitation. ‘

 
“I don’t know. she m sht not «a! mush; ’

.11

You’ve been a mighty ' ‘

ment was convinced that‘the speaker was in .. .

  
I to any man be ore.

 
,  ' obert don’t think any more of the gel t an

16 The Black Steed of the Prairies.

 
acause ye know she hcs sorter got hitched in
with that Hobert feller. But I tell ye she
would feel suthin’ that no words could
talk?”

“ Do you think that?”

There was an earnestness in the tones of
the speaker, showinghow fully his heart was
in the imiuiry.

“No, ain’t one o’ the kind ’at thinks a
big lot, and knows nothin’. I know what I tell
a feller, ’most allers."

Eleazar gazed upon the veteran scout for
some time, making no audible comment;
but as he turned away, Sam heard him mut-
ter:

“ Then let the Indians kill me. The
sooner the better!”

“ What d’ye want tew talk like that for?”
the old man asked, following his younger
companion. “A feller’d think ye was dead
in love, and had jest got sacked, the wu‘st
kind. to hear ye let on.”

“I haven’t got the sack yet,” was the
quick reply, “ and, thank fortune, I’ll be
careful enough to keep from that humilia-
tion.”

“ Then you own up that ye’re in love with
the gal?”

There was a kindness in the tones of the
old man, which Eleazar could not resist. He
had known the 01d scout for many years and
understood his worthiness. Throwing him-
self upon a pile of hay, while Sam sat beside
him, the young man said.

“I ma as well confess it all, for I see
that on ave read me. The truth is, you
are right; thou h I never have confessed it
I have loved Euphe-
mia ever since she came to the settlement.
’Tis no boy’s passion, either, for that would
have died out before this. v I wish I was
well rid of it. ”

“ What d'ye want to wish so for? You’ve
lest as good a right tew love the gal as any-

ody, and better tew, as one may say. Yell
want a wife purty soon, and thar’s no gal
that would be better ﬁtted for ye than
Euphie. So, why don’t ye pitch in, and let
her understand that you are an interested
part ?"

“ wouldn’t hesitate. Sam, if it wasn’t for
Erastus. He’s a good fellow, and she loves
him better than she does me. ’Tis said they
are engaged, and most likely ’tis so. I cant
feel low enough to tr any such underhand

me; I wouldn't, if knew I could succeed.

he loves him and he loves her. I’ve no
rl ht to make either one or both of them
miserable, just to suit my own selﬁsh feel-

“I’shawl You talk well enough. Le, but
on don’t look at it in the right li ht.

 
you.
git her that he has, till the day she is mar-
ricd; sar’tin till ye know sure that she is en-
gaged tcw him. Go rirrht to the gal, and tell
her jest how yc feel. ql‘cu to one you'll be
glad in the long run.”

The young,r man was silent for a few m0-
ments, and then he said, very decidedly:

“ No, Sam; I’m obliged to you for the
advice, but I’m not going to Euphemia with
any silly stories. Not now, at least," he
added, modifying his tone. “This ride has
ﬁrst to be attended to, and when that is
over with, there’ll be time for something else.
Let me see; I must lay in a good supply of
gmmunition. Come to the house with me,

am.” ,

They left the barn, and in a few moments
encountered the object of their conversa-
tion, coming straight toward them. A ﬂush
overspread Eleazar’s face, and he would have

passed her in silence had not the maiden ad~ V

dressed him.

" So the tell me you are going on that
fearful ri e, too," she remarked, with eyes
half-ﬁlled with tears. " Oh, it seems so very
dreadful!”

The old scout gave his companion’s arm
a quick pinch, and turned in another direc-
tion. Elcazar knew very well what he meant,
but could not bring himself to the utterance
of the many sentences which rushed through
his brain.

“Oh, the ride will not be very long or
very dangerous,” he said, in a careless man-
ner. “I have a good horse and a worthy
companion, so that I shall not be dependent
upon myself alone."

“But it is such a long way, and the In“ /

dians sweep over these plains so!”

” Never mind. With
night’s sun shall see us hal way to Austin,
or more; and early on the next mornin
we will be on our way back. So don’t fee
a bit of fear that he’ll not be back all
rio'ht!”

ith these words Eleazar passed on, and

entered the dwelling which served as his
temporary home. Euphemia turned slowly
from the spot, and walked toward the house
of her guardian. She soon became con-
scious of a presence, and upon looking up,
saw the veteran scout, who had so recently
parted company with Roberts, walking near
b

er. .
She hastened to greet him, for the kind-

hearted old man was a favorite with all who
knew him. > ‘

You’ve jest the same right to try and '

ood luck, to. ‘

 
J ' \- 

 
“These are sad times,” she said, wi ing ', , “

away a tear.

desperate errand.” .
“It’s tew bad/Want Sam, with a sym-

“ I do dread so much to ve  .
those two young men go away on such a i; ' '

     
’r~w.w%‘

 
rw-rt

'- .25».

The Black Steed of the Prairies.

 
pathizing voice. “I jest offered to give Le
a good riﬂe if he'd let me take his place; but
he is bound to go, and seems rather to fancy
gittin’ killed of the two.”

" I noticed that he seemed strange to-
day,” returned the maiden. “ I did not
think anything of it, for I fancied the ex-
citement of such a journey would be enough
to ﬂustrate any one.”

“ It ain’t that, Miss Euphic,” said the old
scout, shaking his head. “The poor feller‘s
heart ain’t right. He's dead in love with a
gal in this place, and thinks he’s no right
tew let the cat out. So he wishes the Injuns
’d kill him, to set him right in the matter.
Strange, ain’t it?”

“ Very, very strange. I never should
have dreamed such a thing. But he should
remember that a ‘faint heart never won a
fair lady.’ ”

“So I told him. I talked with him the
best I knew how; but it didn’t seem to make
any difference with him. I'm sorry he’s so
sensitive like. I’m afraid he’ll feel like that
some time, and throw himself away."

“ Do you think it possible?"

There was an intense earnestness in the
tones of Euphie as she asked the questions

_ which seemed to gratify the old scout amaz-

ingly. But he gave no expression of such
feeling save for a moment, and then he re-
plied, with a solemn shake of the head:

“ I wouldn‘t tell you so onless I felt purty
sart’in of what I was sayin’. Ye see the
trouble is, the boy’s as timid as a gal, and a
plaguy sight more, when he’s with you
Women-folks. But then that ain’t all the
trouble. Thar’s another feller what Le
fancies stan’s a smarter chance nor hisself,
and he won’t say anything to raise any trout
ble in camp. He seems to have a sort of
feelin’ that he’ll git picked off afore all this

. ﬁghtin’ around here’s over, and I know thar’s

times when he don’t jest feel sorry either.
He told me jest now that the best thing what
could happen tew him was for some red-skin
tew knock him over.”

While conversing thus they had reached

1 the maiden’s dwelling~place, and here they

halted. Perhaps something in the words or
manner of the speaker had convinced Euphe—
mia of what was to come; or it may be that
her own heart told her. She paused a mo-
ment, bit her lips, and colored somewhat.

Then she asked in something of a hasty

manner:
. “You haven’t told me who the irl is that
is creating all this disturbance. hy don’t
you tell me the whole story ?”

“ Wal, I didn’t know as you’d keer about
that. On the whole, I guess I’d better be

/ - goin‘, ’cause I’ve got a little job on hand my-
5 self, that I can’t put off;

 
other, and each saw t ere the very express

(in

mia, starting after him.
leave me in doubt.
the one?"

“ Wal, you’ve guessed square on the mark.
You are the gal, Miss Euphiei"

The maiden’s countenance (lrooped in a
moment, and for some time she did not
reply.
the play of her features closely. At first
she turned away with a heavy step toward
her own door, and then came back to the old
hunter.

“ They haven’t gone yet?” she said, rather ,
inquiringly than afﬁrmatively.

The old man did not speak, but took the
maiden by the arm, and poipted away to’
where two horsemen were riding abreast,
out upon the plain. At the distance which
intervened, it was difﬁcult to distinguish
persons, but Euphemia felt certain that they
were none other than Erastus and Eleazar.‘
And it might be that one or both of them was
vanishing from her sight forever!

With a sad countenance, she turned from
the side of old Sam, and entered the house.
There she sought the apartment occupied by '
Cordelia, and mused and wept over what she;
had learned.

“ Never mind,” said Sam Reynolds, with
a sagaeious shake of the head, as he hastened
awa from the place; “I’ve jest sot the gal
a-thinkin’, and if suthin’ don’t work around
when that boy gits back here ag’in, then I
ain’t any 'udge.
biz’ncss; ut then, as Jack Stiﬁ used to say‘
(and he wa’n’t worth a kernil of powder for

“It is not just to

1'9. 

lut you must tell me this," said Eupheﬁ ‘ ’

Do you mean that Iam . '

Sam, meantime, stood by, regarding y

This ain’t jest my kind of 

any thing), I kin turn my hand to a’most any 4 

sort 0’ work, and dew it.
ye must keep yer brains safe, though it’s ~
a mighty bad place ye’re goin’ intew to do.
mu , I
And as he spoke, the veteran hunter turné

Yis, Le, poorboy, ‘ i

m).

ed a lingering glance at the two forms, dis: 1
appearing over the undulating prairie to the u;

southwest. ‘
CHAPTER VI.

 
THE DESPERATE MISSION. 
ALMOST at the same moment, the young r

men who had undertaken to share the perils .

of a rough ride to Austin, brought their
horses to the doors from which the were
respectively to set out. And when
mounted his shining black steed, full
ared for the dangerous journey,
lhaped into his saddle.

rastus

which ran through their village.and bored.
away to Austin, scarcely more than a mercy}?

trail after it cleared the skirts of the settle-
ment. , v ‘. -4
Each gazed quickl into the face of the;

leazar 3,
pre- 3,; I

They met in the road" v i

  
18

The Black Steed of’ the Prairies. '

 
I 'sion which sat u on his own features. Both
were determine , but neither perfectly as~
cured.

“ We are in for it,” said Eleazar, with a
smile.

, “ So we are; though what we are in for is
more than I can make out. I suppose we
must take what comes.”

“ If it suits us,” replied Roberts. “ If not,
we’ll try and see if our wits won’t show some
way to get out of it.”

“ Well, you are cheerful. so I apprehend
you do not fear any reat danger.”

“I can’t say that fdo. Do you?”

“Not much. Though I wouldn’t be one
bit surprised if we had trouble before we get

' through.”

“ That we shall, if any. of the Indians saw
us‘ leave, or if we should fall in with any of
them. But we hardly need fear them. Few
horses in the State can outrun ours, and,
with our weapons, it would scarcely be safe
for a few to meddle with us.”

“ That's true, provided, of course, we
could get them all behind us. If they should
be on three or four sides of us, the case
would be different.”

“ Rest easy, Erastus.
bility that such will be the case.
sooner fear an ambush.”

“ Well, we’ll not fear an thing,” said Ho-
bert, with an eﬁort. “ here are things
enough that may happen; but it is all chance.
I suppose you’ve made up your mind how
we‘re to go?”

“Not in particular. We’ll talk that over
as we ride. What we both think best shall
be our law, for the matter is left to our own

There is no proba-
I should

' " 1 choice. "l

“To your choice, not mine,” said Hobcrt,
frankly. “I’m goin’ with you, or where
you say; but I’ve no business sayin’ what

\ route, or anything of the kind. Your judg-
ment is best in such matters, and what you
' say, I’ll be ready to do.”

“,But two heads are better than one—”
Eleazar began.

“Not always. They ain't in this case;
"and so I tell you, once for all, that you are

- to lead or order, and I will obey.”
v “Well, we‘ll not quarrel over the rank,
.when it is likely neither of us will have oc-
' casion to give any orders. We’ve nothing
= to do but ride together, and take care of our-
selves.”

“Don’t ﬂatter yourself too much,” said
Erastus, and there the topic was left.

After riding some ﬁve miles, they reached

‘a low range of hills, or “mountains.” as
-they were called in the vicinity; through
', iwhich was a sort of pass, or gap. As this

. saved a tedious ascent and descent, it was
 by all ’persons having orcasion to pass

 
that range, near the place. To reach it re-
quired something of deviation, since the
place of their destination lay east-northeast
from Cedarvillc, and the pass was almost
southeast.

As they came within long riﬂeshot of
the place, Ranger sniffed the air once or
twice, and cast a searching glance ahead,
which seemed almost to partake of human
intelligcucc.

“ What is it, my good Ranger?” said his
rider, patting his neck. “Do you smell
Indians? I hope not. We ve no wish to
make their acquaintance the ﬁrst half-hour
out.”

The young man seemed a triﬂe startled at
the unusual movement of the horse, but asa
strict scrutiny failed to reveal any signs of
the presence of either friends or foes. they
dismissed all unwontcd caution, merely
keeping a lookout upon all sides for any ap<
pcarance of the half expected red-men. '

Just as they had entered the pass, and
very naturally relaxed all vigil, there came

the loud report of a musket from the cliﬂ '

which rose upon the northern side, and a
bullet went hissing on its mission, passing so
close to EleaZar's head that he half-fancied
himself struck.

Both the young men started, although their
movements were very different. Eleazar put
spurs to his horse, hastily drawing a pistol
as he dashed away through the gap; while
Erastus came to a stand-still and unslung his
riﬂe at the ﬁrst. movement. ,

He was looking for some traces of the cow-
ard who had ﬁred the shot, though looking
in vain.

The pulf of smoke had risen from a

cluster of bushes in the most inaccessible
part of the cliﬁ, but it was evident that the
marksman had gone. No sound could be

heard to indicate what course the ﬂeeing vil- ~

lain had taken. .

As he lowered his weapon, and raised his
bridle—rein again, Elcazar came rapidly gal-
loping back.

“ Are you hurt, Erastus ?” he asked, upon
coming within speaking distance.

“Not a bit,” was the cheery reply. “ I
was just tryin’ to git sight of that cowardly
sneak.”

“ Rather a bad business," said Eleazar,with
a shake of the head. “ If there had been any
more of them. you’d been apt to receive their
compliments.”

“ Yes, I suppose I would,” said Erastus.
“But, since he was alone, it proved just as
well in the long run. I don’t know as I
ought to have stopped. though,” he added,
more seriously. ,

“ We shall do better not to try any ﬁght~
ing until we are forced to it,” said Eleazar,

 
.c;

 
. v .

 
\

The Black Steed of the Prairies. ‘ I 19”:

 
with a half-smile. “ Not but that I should
be glad to see such rascally cowards punish~
ed, but we must not risk our own lives to do
it. Our errand is to get help, and not to
hurt Indians."

“I see,” said Erastus, frankly. “I am
corrected, and I’ll see in future that I try
heels instead of facing. But I did want to
get a shot at the plaguy rascal so bad that I
didn’t realize what I was (loin’.”

“ All just as well, Erastus. But what
do you suppose it was? “[110 ﬁred that
gun?”

“ Oh, I suppose it must have been an In-
dian; nobody of our own color would have
been guilty of such an act.”

“But savages don’t go around in that
way, poppin’ at a fellow. There’s generally
a whole pack of them, and all blaze away
at once. No, Erastus, that wasn’t Indian
style.”

“Then What could it have been? I can’t
guess."

“ Nor I.”

The two young men pondered for a few
moments, and then I-Iobert repeated:

“I can’t understand that. The more I think
it over the more I don‘t see who or what it
could have been.”

, “ Did you never think that we might have
a traitor among us?” asked Eleazar, with a
sly look.

“By jing—l” The speaker cut short his
exclamation, but continued: “ You have
guessed it, Eleazarl True as gospel. That’s
just the thing. But who can it be?”

“Don’t ask me that, for I don’t know.
If I have any uspicions they may not be
correct, and so I’ll not breathe them. We’ll
keep a sharp lookout, and if any such thing
is in the wind we shall learn more of it
sooner or later.”

They rode onward, over a wide stretch
which was enerally called by the inhabi-
tants, and esignated upon some maps, as
“mountainous.” But the greatest elevation
would be considered a. medium-sized hill in
New England, and the most of the region
was only rolling to a moderate degree, and
covered With a more general sprinkling of
forest than Texas usually boasted in that
portion of the State.

While there was more opportunity to mis-
lead a foe, and escape him by strategy in this
case _thnn there would be upon the open
prall‘le. there was also a greater probability
that they would stumble upon him. 'Hence
they were forced to proceed with the greater
degree of caution, and consequently made

. less rapid progress.

._I

They were approaching a large tpiece of
cod, through which their way ra or some
. “I

J;

 
miles, when Eleazar pulled up his animal,
exelaiming:

“ See here, Erastus, I wonder if these parts
ain’t swarmin’ with Comanches? Here’s
signs of ’em, if I’m any judge." 3

He leaped lightly upon the earth as he \
spoke, and ran his eye quickly over the soil
before him. As we have remarked, the way
was scarcely more than a trail, so that any
considerable party, passing over, was certain
to leave signs which an experienced band
would not be slow to detect.

“What is it, Le?“ asked Hebert, drawing
rein, but keeping his seat, and casting quick
glances around.

“ Comanches,” was the quick and decided
answer.

“ How many?” V , ‘>

“I can’t tell. You can see their tracks, ’
here, plenty as mosquitoes in July. They 5.
are going the same way as we, and they’ve .’ v
but just gone, as you can see.” ‘ I '1;

“Yes, their tracks are very plain,” said ‘ '
Hebert, “and I fancy there is one of the f' a
rascals in that tree. See yonder; just beside _ "'
that old cypress. But no matter; his head is ﬂ ,
gone——-y0u can’t see anything more of him 
now.” a I
“Are you certain that it is any living 0‘;
thing?” /

" Yes, it is alive; and I am very certain it
is an Indian, too.” 

He continued to gaze for a moment longer, ,1,
and then added: ' ' ".6.

“There he goes, down out of sight. I W», 
guess we’d better be getting out of this, '
somehow.” , “

“Yes, we'll ride back till we get to that 71;?
other piece of woods, and strike off to the ' ‘ ‘
southward, through that. We will avoid 4.
them altogether, if possible.” " :"L

He had remounted and turned his horse __
back toward the pass through which they 
had so recently come. It was with regret ; g ..
that they were forced to do so, since they
had not calculated upon meeting any foe so  ;
soon, and to retrace their steps at the very ., 
outset argued illy for their ﬁnal success. 

But they had not long to indulge in gloomy - ' 5
thoughts, for they had scarcely commenced .
the retrograde movement when a party-of 
mounted Comanches appeared at the gentlerg‘i‘f'
rise a few miles short of the woodland. ’ _ 

The two white men kept on at a steady 
pace, but regarding the movementsof they),
savages behind them meantlme. The latter ,,
seemed at ﬁrst undecided in what manner to ‘
proceed, whether to give the retreating set- ,
tiers pursuit or otherwise. It was not tile
more than a half-dozen had gathered upon,
the crest that they began to ride for“ and, “
evidently to notice the effect upon the White
men. r ' .4

 
sea

 
20

/

The latter did not seem at all alarmed at
this state of affairs. Indeed. any evidence
of such a feeling would have been the signal
for a rush upon the part of the Comanches.

“They seem to have an idee of feelin‘ of
us,” said Erastus, a little uneasily.

In fact, he would have spurred on his

horse at once, had he not pledged himself to
follow the suggestions of Eleazar to the letter.

“Never mind them,” said the latter, with
perfect indifference. “If they get too near
we’ll face about and present our rides.
That‘ll bring matters to a head.”

Without once turning in their saddles, the
white men kept on, till they were half-way
to the wood where they trusted to circum-
vent their wily foes.

By means of a small pocket-mirror which
he carried, Eleazar was enabled to watch the
movements of the Indians. He saw that
,they were making preparations for a sudden
dash. and turned to his companion.

“Ready with your riﬂe,” he said; “ they
are gettin’ ready for a scrimmage. Now,
halt here, and present, but do not ﬁre unless
I ive the word.”

be young men pulled up their horses
where they were, turned them about quickly,
and leveled their weapons upon the advanc-
ing Comanches.

The latter had begun to hrandish their
weapons, and were coming on at a sharp
trot, preparatory to an energetic gallop.
But, upon seeing the self-possessed and de-
cided movements of those they had intended
toattack,their warlike demonstrations ceased,
and they came forward at a much slower

, pace, throwing themselves low upon the
’ necks of their animals.

They seemed to expect an instant volley,
from the manner in which they clung upon
their horses’ necks; but ﬁnding that it did

. a not come, they seemed to comprehend the
« purpose of the whites. Others of the lndian
v party were coming up, and quick signals
pased between them. The entire force then
resolved itself into two bands, and while one
division menaced the whites from the old
standpoint, the others threw themselves upon
their horses and began circling around the
exposed twain.

“Come on,” said Eleazar; “ now is our
time. Ride for the woods like mad. It‘s our
only chance!”

They turned their horses as quickly as pos-
sible, and galloped toward the forest, now
distant someting like a mile.

‘ The Indians saw what was the intention of
their supposed victims, and at once pressed
down upon three sides to cut off their escape.
But they might as well have undertaken to
an the wind. '

-, way went that shining Klack steed, with

 
‘The Black Steed of the Prairieﬂ.

his lithe, graceful rider, bounding over the
earth with speed like an antelope; while
close behind him came the bulkier steed and
heavier rider. Showers of the mellow earth
went ﬂying from the hoofs of the animals,
as though in deﬁance of the dusky riders,
who were straining every muscle of them-
selves and horses in the vain effort to over-
haul the fugitives.

So close had been the chase and so entire]
did it absorb the powers of all concerne ,
that weapons were not thought of. There
was no opportunity to use an thing save the
arrows of the Comanches, an the white men
were safe beyond the reach of the strongest
bowman.

Although the result of this bold movement
was quickly decided, the red-men did not
give over the pursuit. The leader of the
party shouted a few words to his followers,
and all spurred forward toward the woods,
Where the white men were already disap-
pearing. They felt perfect confidence in
their ability to overhaul the whites before
they should reach Cedarville, whither they
supposed them to be bound.

Very well did the Comanches understand
their own skill in horsemanship, and the en-
durance of their animals had been tested too
often to be doubted now. On a swift run
they bore down upon and entered the forest,
following the wagon-trail which led toward
the settlement. ,

None of them paused to examine it very

thoroughly, since they certainly expected to.

come in sight of the ﬂeeing settlers at every
turn and upon reaching each successive rise
of ground.

Strangely enough, they reached the other
side of the forest. and scanned the face of
nature away to the gap, without seeing a
single sign of the ﬂeeing horsemen. A quiet
search revealed the fact that the there was no
such trail as they had fancied themselves fol-

lowing; consequently the white men had'

misled them.

With many wild and fearful shouts the
haﬂied savages turned back. and spread
themselves, to more effectually scour the
forest through which they had just passed.

Of course the reader understands why the
Indians failed to ﬁnd any traces of the two
daring riders.

Upon gaining the edge of the woods they
were near] 01' quite a quarter of a mile in
advance 0 their pursuers, Eleazar being a
triﬂe ahead of his companion.

To accomplish the. young man’s purpose it

was necessary to leave the wagon-trail lead—_
ing to Cedarville, strike sharp ‘to the south,’

and following down a sort of valley, leading
around to the eastward, to. leave their ene-

 
Mare 4 .

.‘u-L

‘AI-l-gr .

 
can: 4

 
, distance

The Black Steed of the Prairies.

 
mics behind them, and try once more to make
a straight line for Austin.

Eleazar realized very well that if the Co-
manches were some distance behind and fol-
lowing by trail alone, such a proceeding
would involve much more of hazard than in
the present case. Reasoning wisely, he con-
cluded that the Indians would be so blinded
by rage that they would dash along the
straightcst trail, without paying any particu-
lar attention to it. In this he was right.

Halfway through the woods he knew of a
place just suited to his wishes. If that could
be gained he felt certain of throwing the Co-
manches off the track.

, “Come on!" he shouted over his shoulder
to Erastus.

“Never mind me; I’ll be on hand," was
the reply.

Down to the point which he had marked
in his own mind Eleazar dashed, and then he
turned as short as possible.

“This way!” he shouted again, and in a
moment Hebert was following in his wake.

It was the IOWest point in the forest, and
over a bed of pebbles rose a small, pure
stream of water. Turning here, with the
favoring inﬂuence of water and stones, it is
easy to see that no trail was left which
could be followed with any degree of cer-
taint , unless the purpose of the white men
was nown.

True, they were obliged to lacken speed
somewhat, but this was of little moment,

- since they were soon hidden from the view

of the passing Comanches, In fact, they
had scarcely reached a place secure from ob-
servation, when they heard the rush of the
sava es as they dashed past.

“ oodl” exclaimed Erastus; “they’ve

'B‘One by, and not suspected where we are.

We are all right now.”

“Don’t be too certain,” rejoined Eleazar.
“ They will be back in a few minutes, when
they ﬁnd that they have missed us. We
glust’murry all we can to get out of their

ay.

“But they can’t trail us,” muttered Ho-
bert. “ Our horses don’t leave a single hoof-
mark.”

"True; but they’ll suspicion the place at
Once. because they’ll see that no horse would
leave a trail here.” .

v They Were not long in putting a good

. between themselves and the point
of leavmg the Cedarville trail. Hobert’s
heaVIer horse enabled him to keep pace
With the utmost efforts of Ranger, and

snow that they were accustomed to the

rough riding, they pushed forward with all
s eed

l p I
“,This_way _now,” said Eleazar, as he
ﬁnally rented his home from the channel of

    
heart with the Indians ftth 1,
r“ V'. l_!..-;' \... ‘4

the stream, and followed around a turn of
the hill to the southeast. “ We must leave
the creek sooner or later, and this is the way
we want to go.”

“ Just as well here as anywhere," an-
swered Hobcrt. “ If the red—skins ﬁnd
our trail they ﬁnd it. I conclude we'll show
thematolerablc clean set of hells, if they
stay behind us.”

But the young men heard nothing of any
pursuers. On they went through the long
stretcl.es of forest. until at length the trees

began to grow thinner and thinner in ad- ‘

vance.

Approaching the margin of the woodland
cautiously, to assure themselves that no In-
dians were in sight, they rode forth once
more upon the open plain. v

A few sweeping glances around satisﬁed
Elcazar that his surmises had not been
wrong. He glanced at the sun, now sink-
ing in the west, and then over the scenery
in front of them once more, saying as he did
so:

“Yonder piece of woods is the place for
us. If we can reach that we shall be able to
ride ﬁve miles under cover. It can hardly
be more than that distance there; so if these
rascally red-skins ain‘t on our trail, we may
give them the slip altogether."

But it was no triﬂing matter to ride miles
away over that plain, exposed to view from
all points. How slight a chance would be
suﬁicient to change the whole aspect of af-
fairs! Yet neither of the young men hesi-
tated, as they urged their horses upon the -
wide prairie.

 
CHAPTER VII.
A SPECK ON THE 110317034. -
IT may be surmised that Eleazar and his
companion lost no time in crossing the
stretch of prairie before them. Yet they
did not ride at a desperate pace, since the
trial had been hard upon their horses al-
ready, and it was good policy to reserve a

portion of their strength against an urgent -

call in the future.

Still they made ground rapidly, and more
than half the distance had been passed. As
yet there were no signs of any pursuers, and
not aliving thing had met thelr eye upon v
the plain before them. A low swell. was
just in advance of them, and after riding
over it the young men observed w1th satis-

faction that they were screened from the  ~

view of any party issuing from the woods ‘
they had is t. - _

“Thank fortune, we can breathe for a
minute," said Eleazar, drawing a longbreath.

as though to give expression to his sense of‘ .

freedom. . “ On the whole, we succeeded

WWW

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p

1


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\_

1

\,v

   
£28 The Black Steed of the Prairies.

Since they have no particular cause for ven-
' geance, they may conclude to give over the
; . search for us, or let us go, altogether. If
they do, and we meet no further adven-
tililrgs, we shall not'lose so much time after
a . ,

“There are several z'fs in the way,” re—

‘ turned Hebert. laughing. “ However, I hope

we shall be in luck, for there’s no knowing
what a strait our friends may be in before we
get back.”

They rode on, talking of the past and pres-
ent, their own situation and that of their
friends. Both kept up a constant watch of
all the region within their circuit of vision,
allowing their noble animals to take their
own time for the present.

Suddenly Hobcrt bent his eyes in an east-
ward direction, and regarded some object
closely for a short time.

“See here, Le,” he said, after a while,
“ what do you make out of that tall, straight
thing loomin’ up ag’in’ the sky yonder?”

Eleazar followed the direction of his com-
panions ﬁnger, until his eyes rested upon a

lack speck against the horizon. He had not

' noticed it before, but after a short examina-

tion, returned:

“ I guess that’s nothing, Erastus.
broken stub or stump.”

a “No, it ain’t anything of the kind.” was
r. the decided rejoinder. “ It has moved since
' L I have been looking at it; so it’s suthin’
. what’s persessed 0’ life.”

. “ Is that a fact? Are you certain of it?”
‘, asked Eleazar, more in astonishment than
 v doubt; and again his eyes were turned in the
” direction of the strange object.

But if it had seemed a stump before, it
certainly looked more like one now. Only
the fact that it had changed its position dur-

’ing the moment his eyes had wandered away
gave Eleazar proof that it was really an ani-
mate object.

"It is alive,” he said. “It has moved
since I ﬁrst saw it. What do you make it
out to be 7”

“I’m sure I can’t say.
 must be, some person; whether Indian or
{i » white man I cannot surely say. What else
If  could it be?"

.’ Eleazar shook his head slowly, as though
 . to express some doubt which he might feel
-‘v in his own mind. but he said nothing. He
‘»;V was busily engaged in watching the strange
~ - ﬁgure, be ing to solve the mystery of its
 nature. ut there it stood, a mere black
' » speck against the eastern sky. No efforts of
h, *- sion could bring it nearer, or solve the
’ " problem of its identity.

- Suddenly it disappeared from view, hav-

Just a

It may be—it

 
glanced at each other.

“ You were right," said Eleazar, in answer
to the inquiring look of his comrade. “It
was somebody, and most likely an Indian.
Yet I doubt much if he saw us.”

“ How so?”

“ We are between him and the sun, which
is so low that I fancy he would be troubled
to see us.”

Hebert looked around. as though startled
by his eompauion‘s words. Seeing that the
luminary of dayhad really sunk so far, he
exclaimed:

“Is it possible that the day is so near
gone, and so little accomplished?”

“Hasn‘t it been long enough since night
came on yesterday?” asked Eleazar, with a
melancholy smile.

“ch, long enough for a lifetime! And
so it has been since daybreak this morning.
But, for all that, I hoped we should get
further on our way before dark.”

“ We shall have time to make a few more
miles. I think we had better camp before
we get through those woods, as our horses
will be better protected than in the open
prairie.”

“ Will you go through the woods?” asked
Hebert. “That Indian was near the edge.
and it may be he intends camping some-
where in the brush, with a lot of his bloody-
minded fellows.” -

“Possibly. But we will have no fears
upon that point. These woods are large
enough for us both, and if we keep pretty
well to the right, I don‘t fancy we shall have
any trouble with them.”

They bore away to the south somewhat
more than had been their intention before
the speck upon the horizon had been seen.
and once within the borders of the wood,
they paused for a short time.

cool waters were most grateful to both man
and beast. After both had quenched their
thirst, Hobart remarked:

“I’m goin' up this tree, and see how things
look. I can see the Comanches from the top
branches, if they are out of those woods
where we giv’ ’em the slip." /

a deliberate survey of the and before him.
Away over the plains he could see the- gap
through which they had passed. and most of
the country nearer was exposed to his/view.
But he was more than gratiﬁed at ﬁnding no
Indians within sight.
reported his observations. V
“ As I suspected,” said Eleazar. “They
could not ﬁnd our trail, or they gave over
the chase.
which." ‘ ,

 
.

 
The young men uttered sighs of relief, and,

 
A little stream was ﬂowing there, whose

He ascended the tree in uestion, and took >

Slidingto the earth, he' \

 
We’ll not trouble ’em to know g 

 
_.J._L‘~::;,;.L v

 
The Black Steed of the Prairies. 28

 
They mounted and rode forward again
through the forest, milc after mile. Finally
the duskiness of evening began to descend,
and Eleazar remarked:

“ We can't see much longer. Preliaps we
had better pick out a campin’-spot where we
be. ’Tain’t above a mile to the plain, on the
other side, so we hadn’t better go much
nearer, if We intend to stay here in the
woods.”

“ Suit ourself. Roberts,” said Erastus,
“and 1‘] ﬁnd no fault. I only wish we
could make the whole journey without stop—
pm 'H

Xi this was quite impossible, they proceed-
ed to select a place for passing the night.
They were not long in ﬁxing upon what
seemed especially adapted to their needs.
There was a little valley through which
ﬂowed the same stream of water which they
had crossed upon entering the forest.

There were bunches of grass along the bor-
ders of the stream, which the hungry animals
were allowed to feed upon for a time, while

. the riders chewed away upon the well-dried

meat which they had taken as their only pro—
Visions.

When darkness began to thicken over the
scene, however, the animals were secured to
two saplings. while the men rolled themselves
In their blankets beneath a huge tree which
grew there.

Exhausted as they had been by the scenes
0f the past thirty—six hours, it was little won—
der that both of them fell into a sound sleep
almost in a. moment.

To Eleazar, time was utterly annihilated.
How long he had slept he knew not. All at
once he was aroused by something cold being

' pressed upon his cheek. Startled, as he well

might be, he sprung upright before he fully
realized that his most politic course might be
the very reverse of that.

He was somewhat reassured by ﬁnding
that the cold object was no more or less than

Igger’s nose, which had been rubbed
against his face. , He began to address the
beast 1}! low tones, when he became aware
that midnight silence did not brood over the
entire forest. \

0t many rods distant, and coming ful
toward him, he heard the irregular tread of
a “Pmbel‘ of horses; while the jingle of arms,
W_hlch fell upon his ears once or twice, con-
vinced him that they were not without
riders. Scnsible of the danger of their situa-
tion, hechastened to arouse his still sleeping
companion.

” Hist!" he exclaimed. bending over, and
shaking the prostrate form. “Wake up,
Erastus!”

«The person addressed be an to groan

Manly, st_ﬂrst,-but a moon and 8879???

 
shaking brought him to a realization of his
position.

“ What is it?" he asked.

“Get up, the Indians are close upon us,”
said Eleazar.

Erastus rose to his feet ver quietly, and a.
moment‘s listening convince him that such
was but too trul the case.

“What’ll we 0?” he asked.

Since his awakening, Eleazar’s active mind
canvassed the situation as thoroughly as pos-
sible. It would be very easy for them to
creep away and escape the cunning savages,
personally, but to leave their horses for the
Indians was not to be thought of. The best
they could hope to do in that case would be to
reach Ccdarville again, having failed utterliy
in their attempt to bring the desired ai .
Such being the‘case, all efforts must be di~

rooted to retaining possession of their steeds. » ‘

As Eleazar did not reply at the moment,
Erastus repeated the question:
“ What shall we do?”

 
“Wrap yourself in your blanket, Indian- g ‘ 

fashion, get onto your horse, and be lettin’
him drink from the creek.”
It required but a moment to accom lish

this, and by the time it was done the In ians ‘

were passing upon both sides of them. . ~
“Let them go on and leave us if they

will,” muttered Eleazar, in tones which none .

but his companion could hear. “If they 0
to making a fuss, we must try our pisto ,
and make a run of it. We‘ll keep together,
if we can, and if not, we'll look out for
ourselves. If we should get separated
we must get to Austin the best way we can.
If I should fall, there is no word I wish to
send. My business is all settled up."

“And so is mine.”

They could say no more, for. while these
mumbled sentences had passed between
them, several of the Indians had ridden
down beside the partially-disguised White
men, and were allowing their horses to

drink. One or two of the nearest gave'

sharp glances of suspicion at their neighbors,
but they seemed to take the presence of the

strangers as a matter of course, and contin- ._
ued talking to each other and attending to ‘

their horses.

Both of the young men looked around
upon the Comanches with feelings the re-
verse of pleasurable. There .were fully
twenty of them, all armed in their barbarous
manner and painted most hideously. All

seemed to have halted. While a part of "

them were watching their horses at the
stream, the balance were scattered about in
the forest near by. i

The two young men weredecidedly un- '
. as

easy. ,Surrounde the then" were. a

discovery

 
z .

 
would be the signal if” ‘-

 
‘rr...\«:

 24
massacre. Watching his opportunity, Elea-
zar turned his animal away from the creek,
riding slowly in the direction where his
dusky foes were the least in numbers. Eras—
tus saw the movement, and proﬁted by it
soon after.

For a moment it seemed they would be
successful in leaving the presence of their
enemies. It was so dark that but a few

 feet of distance abolished all distinctions of
color or race, and thus far no one had
challenged the ﬁgures moving along so
leisurely.

But at the very moment when Eleazar be-
gan to congratulate himself upon a lucky es-
cape, and was looking,r around to see that his
comrade was following, a huge Comanche
directly arose in his path, and bending from
his saddle, propounded some question to the
Anglo-Saxon in :the barbarous dialect of the
Comanches.

Greek or Hebrew would not have been less

’. intelligible to Eleazar, since he had never
made any attempts to master the native
tongues. Of course he knew nothing in re-

* gard to the nature of the interrogation, but
thinking it possible that a dumb answer
would be sufficient to rid him of the In-

“ dian’s presence, he partially turned in his
saddle, and pointed to some object in the
rear.

. For a moment he fancied the ruse to have

“ been successful. The Indian turned his
horse, and rode a yard or two in the direc-
tion of the object pointed out. Yet a second
thought seemed to obtrude itself, much to

, . the annoyance of Eleazar. The savage rider

w bent back, and placing his face within a
foot of the young settler’s, gave utterance to

' _ ,another question, much more complicated
in its nature than the ﬁrst.

Here was a dilemma. Very evidently,

9' . . antomime would not answer in this case.

,, 6 could not speak a word of the Indian

-/ “tongue, or make any sounds which might
be mistaken for it. Surely the moment of
his detection had come. He was revolving
in his mind all manner of expedients;
such as darting by the Comanche and run-

, ning the chances in a dead race, when some-

t thing which he was far from expecting
changed the aspect of aﬁairs in a moment.

_ He heard rather than saw a single heavy
 blow, and the next instant the warrior’s sad-
dle was vacant.

V Erastus had seen and comprehended the

state of affairs. Riding up on the other side,

he drew a heavy pistol which he carried. and

 
.3

:5. [dealt the brave a fearful blow with the iron-

. , bound butt Of course he toppled from the
5. ‘ saddle and pitched to the ground, while Ho-
~ bert seized his horse by the bridle.

" “Come, Le,’ he’. whispered. “ None of

a“ ‘

   
The Black Steed of the Prairies.

 
came quite neatthe page 01 his throat-169-:

   
‘

them noticed anything. We’ll take his horse
along, so they won’t ﬁnd out so soon.”

They rode directly into the wood, away
from the Indian party, holding their breath
in suspense, while expecting to hear a Whoop
of alarm at each moment. But they made
some distance, and no sounds of any com-
motion reached their cars.

“We may as well cut loose from this
horse now as ever,” said Elcazar, taking the
rude rein. “We’ve no use for him. Per-
haps we’d better tie him to this shrub, and
leave him for his tall rider.”

Acting upon the suggestion, he quickly
noosed the line about a sapling, and parted
company with the superﬂuous horse.

“Now we must shape our faces toward the
prairies as near as we can,” he continued.
“ Wait a moment till I get the points."

IIe reﬂected for a few moments, and then
changed his course a triﬂe.

“ This is the way,” he said, pointing in ad-
vance. ‘

They had scarcely resumed progress, how-
ever, before there came to their ears sounds
of a commotion in the direction of the In-
dians whom they had escaped.

“ Hal they smell a rat at last!” said Eras-
tus. “ Never mind, we are safe out of their
way, and I’ll be bound there isn't Indians
enough this side of the Rocky Mounts to ﬁnd
our trail in this dark night. ”

“ They’ll not be likely to ﬁnd our trail,”
said Eleazar, “but may wind us in some
other manner. We must make all possible
speed, and run the chance of getting away.”

Neither was disposed to lose any time,
for they were entirely too near the spreading
Comanches for safety. Keeping their horses
in the direction chosen, they bent low to
avoid the branches under which they often
swept, bruised now and then by trees which
the steeds had passed too near, and press-
ed toward the open prairie, That once
gained. they could use greater speed, with
far less danger from natural causes than at-
tended a midnight gallop through the for-
est.

”Never mind," said Eleazar, in reply to
some half»vexed observation upon the art
of his companion; "I think if it was light
we should see the trees pretty thin before
us. Keep up heart a few minutes, and we’ll ,
be out of the woods. We are makin’ good,
progress.

He struck against a projecting limb,which
nearly unseated him as he ceased speaking;
but not being severely hurt, was not long in
getting ﬁrmly seated again.

Scarcely was this done when there came I

a sound. so full of omen that his heart
seemed- to sink and then rise again. till it

 
m

 
‘ suit.

» "way in which they could proceed. Upon

The Elite}: Steed of the Prairies.

near, in fact, that he swallowed several

times before getting in speaking order.

The sound was nothing more or less than
the report of a gun, not far away. Not far
in advance of them the bullet went whist-
ling through the tree—tops. A chorus of yells
from different parts of the forest answered
the shot, showing it to have been a signal
that the course of the ﬂeeing whites had
been discovered.

“ So they’re after us,” said Erastus.

“‘Let them come. ’Tis not far to the

’ plain, I’m conﬁdent, and once there I’ll defy

them to follow us. Ranger is a sure—footed

, horse, and yours was never known to stum-
ble, so I think we need fear nothing in that

respect.” .
Conﬁdently as he had spoken of leavmg
the forest, it seemed to Eleazar that the trees
thickened about them, While undei'brush be-
gan to prevail, so as to retard their progress
at times. All the while they were conscious
that bloodthirsty fees were gathering in
their rear—gaining rapidly upon them, for

,aught they knew to the contrary.

Oh! for a moment's light, or a few miles
of open prairie! But neither seemed vouch-
safed at the needed moment.

There was no denying the fact. Nearer
and nearer at each moment sounded the pur-
A few minutes more and they would
be overtaken. Could it be that their horses,
the vaunted Ranger and I—Iobert’s scarcely
less distinguished steed, were being so utter-
ly distanced by the Comanche animals?

No, as the sounds came nearer the fugi-

tives discovered that their foes were coming

down upon their ﬂank. Conﬁdent that this
must be a fresh body, the riders changed
their course somewhat, and bent low to avoid
the shots which were occasionally ﬁred at
them by some of the pursuers.

A. mass of branches and running vines
lay in the way of the fugitives, but the ﬁrst
intimation they had of such a fact was the
ﬁnding their horses utterly entangled amid
them. To push forward was impossible,
and they were forced to back out and seek
some other path. It was a most decidedly
unbleasant thing to do, in the face of such

v8. close pursuit, but it was done, and that

before the savages had overtaken the almost
disheartened riders

CHAPTER VIII.
TEE COMANCHE.

BUT the mere fact~of extrication from the
nest of brambles was not equivalent to get-
ting out of the woods, by any means. .

0n attempting to pass around the ob-

 
struction, it was found to extend before

them like a heavy wall. There was but one

I ‘J —

w- - a .
-  N,
- ,‘r .39 '.

 
:

the right of them was the bramble-hedtre; .
behind and upon the left the pressing o- ‘
manchcs.

Yard after yard was passed, a foot seem— -
inga furlong in the estimation of the anx-
ious White men.

All at once Eleazar heard the movement of
horseman in advance of them, blocking up
their pathway.

“ They are in there; we are surrounded!”
he whispered to Erastus.

“Then we must charge them!” said the
latter. decidedly.

“ Yes, we must,” returned the ﬁrst speaker.
“But well strike this way, and may not
meet them.” ’

He indicated a course at an oblique angle
to the one they had been pursuing. Grasp-
ing their revolvers, they urged their horses
forward in the direction selected.

There came a wild cry from behind, fol-
lowed by a ﬁerce yell in front of them.
Their horses reeoiled before this savage
whoop, but were quickly urged forward to
their duty.

The dark forms of their fees began to be ‘ -

distinguishable amid the trees and gloom.
IIobert’s revolver cracked out the opening
of the conﬂict, which was as sharp as it
was short. A ﬂight of missiles from the
Comanches answered the shots, and Eleazar
saw his companion disappear in the smoke
and darkness.

In a moment his own pistol was joining ‘ ’ '

itswoice in the chorus of destruction. Twice
or thrice he ﬁred, and then, in raising his
head to get a better aim, he was caught be-
ueath the chin by a strong limb, and thrown
to the earth. In his descent an arm came
violently in contact with some hard sub-
stance, and was temporarily disabled, while
the pistol was knocked from his hand.
Though somewhat confused by the shock,
Eleazar did not for a moment lose his con-
sciousness. He was impressed with the ne-
cessity of instant action if he would save his
life. In a moment he had gained his feet—
just in time to rush into the embraces of a.
tall savage, who with brandished tomahawk
had sprung from his horse to give him a ﬁn- r ’
ishiug blow. A struggle ensued, the Co-
manche getting the better of Eleazar in his
disabled condition, though he did not use his
tomahawk when he had opportunity. This
forbearance might have surprised the young ,
scout had he been in a condition to notice it,
which he was not. He was only aware of
being borne down in the midst of a great
tumult, while not over-gentle hands relieved
him of his weapons, as well as everything .
which a savage’s fancy could select in the I
dark. He was lashed upon his own horse,_
some of his captors took the animal by the, ‘

N '

     
as ;  

 
. p“,

The Black Steed of the Prairies.

 
bridle, and he was led back to the very place
Where himself and Hebert had been so
soundly sleeping a short time before.

Here the lndians had built a ﬁre, stationed
guards. and seemed in the act of composing
themselves to a quiet rest for the balance of
the night. The prisoner, when brought into
the ﬁrelight, attracted much attention and
considerable discussion among the hideous
captors. Nor was the coal-black animal he
bcstrode less an object of curiosity and criti-
cism. Many of the Comanchcs present had
seen the wonderful speed and endurance of
the horse, and discussed his merits among
themselves with all ’the gusto of civilized
jockeys.

After a time the captive was released from
his uncomfortable position, and allowed to
sit upon the ground beside his keepers.

For some tlme most of the savages sat in
council, and thus the prisoner was able to
judge quite deﬁnitely as to their force, and
also to gather something in regard to their in-
tentions. There were thirty gathered about
the ﬁre—just thirty, as he assured himself by
actual count. All of them were warriors,
trained and schooled to exposure and endur—
ance. Yet he saw that they were composed
of three diﬁerent parties, under as many in-
dependent leaders.

The object of their council did not seem
to be so much himself, as an intended attack
upon some settlement. In the matter of
choice there seemed to be some diversity of
opinions, and for an hour no agreement was
effected.

' At last the matter seemed to be decided.
The Comanches threw themselves upon the
bare earth, such as had blankets rolling them-
selves therein, and sought the rest their worn
frames demanded.

Eleazar was about following their exam-
ple; had. in fact, reclined upon an elbow for
some time, when the same tall Indian who
had ca tured him grasped his arm, and
dragge him to an upright position. His
back was then placed against a small tree,
and strong cords of deerskin employed to
lash him thereto. r ,

A sleepy, idiotic-looking savage was then
led up, and the chief, for such he was, of
one squad. gave him a stern command in his
‘ native tongue, to the effect that his own life
should pay for any remissness on his part by
which the prisoner escaped.

Such a charge would seem the hight of
folly in itself, to any one looking upon the
scene at that moment, but the warrior seem-
 . ed duly impressed with the importance of
r: n his charge, and walked back and forth ﬂour-
. ’ , ishing his toma‘aawk in the most conse-
" . quential manner imaginable. .

 ‘v AB he paced back and forth, Eleazar fol-

   
lowed his movements with his eye, though
his thoughts were upon other things. First,

of course, came the query in regard to his -‘

own fate. Why was he thus reserved, when
the practice of making prisoners was almost}
unknown amongr the Wild tribe who were‘
holding him? He could think of many
things as being quite possible, but none of
them seemed more probable than the others,
so that he could arrive at no solution of the
problem which seemed likely to be correct.

Of escape, and of course the thought
came to him, he could see no possibility at
plrcscnt, so he dropped it as utterly as possi-
b 0.

But another question which gave the young
man no small amount of solicitudc, while the
answer seemed quite certain. was: "What had
become of his companion? The frank, noble,
whole—sonled Erastus. “more was he? And,
from some unseen source, came the answer:
“ Dead /”

That such was the fact, Eleazar scarcely
doubted. There was a faint chance that he
had succeeded in breaking through the In-
dian forces, and was now on his way to
Austin; but this seemed next to impossible.

The sentry paced resolutely buck and forth,
keeping unceasing watch of his charge till
satisﬁed that his chief and all about him were
wrapped in slumber. Then he felt of the
ligatures which held the prisoner—and after

assuring himself that all was right, placed ~

his back against a tree at a little distance,
keeping his vision upon the whlte man, or
the place where he was last seen. Since it was

so dark that two or three feet of space ob- .

literatcd all outlines and distinctness.

Now it was that the thought occurred to
Eleazar whether he might not release himself
in some manner. Well he knew that any ef-
forts to help himself must be made soon, or
abandoned for the night—about equivalent to
saying “ forever.” ‘

Gradually he began to work his uninjured
arm. drawing upon it, and turning from side
to side, as much as possible. After a long
eﬁort he was forced to the conclusion that
said arm was too securely fastened for any
efforts on his part to eﬁect its freedom.

Not utterly disheartened. he proceeded to
try each limb in order, making desperate ex-
ertions, from- which he desisted only at the
approach of his guard.

The latter seemed to have his suspicions

aroused, for he walked deliberately up to   A

\

Eleazar, and ran his ﬁngers over the cords‘

which held him. Apparently satisﬁed that
all was right, he turned away. i ‘

He had been gone but a few moments ,
when Eleazar was conscious of a strange feel- ' j '
ing in his nether‘limbs. , There was a sort of.

,l ._ ; \.
. . at, ,v ,3 r
V agaéeé‘tﬁg 7:4

 
f-n-ir

 
The Black Steed of the Prairies.

29

 
cool relief, a sense of returning feeling which
he had not expected.

The mystery was soon explained. Almost
involuntarily he moved a foot, and was
doubly startled and gratified to ﬁnd that he
was free! The bonds which held his feet had
been cut. Of course it was the work of his
guard, since no other person had been near
him. But what could be the lndiau’s ob-
ject? Was there really a spark of humanity
in his composition, notwithstanding his un-
prepossessing exterior?

With senses doubly alive, Eleazar watched
for his return, and very soon he came, saun-
tering by the prisoner so near that another
fact was revealed. This was not the guard

"who had been set at ﬁrst, but one totally
»nnlike him in every respect!

What did it
mean?

As he passed the tree, Eleazar felt the other
cords loosen, and drop off. He stood lean-
ing against the tree, free from all bodily re-
straints.

Before he realized that deliverance was at
hand, or really trusted himself to think as
much, his hand Was taken and something
cold thrust into it. Upon examination it
proved to be the haft of a knife. strong and
heavy. Searcer had be grasped that when
a hatchet was placed in the other. and his
Comanche friend grasped him by the arm,
leading the way‘ very gently toward the

. creek.

Along the banks of the stream the Indians
had secured their animals, and they were
soon in the midst of the sleepy brutes.

“Who are you?” Eleazar ventured to
whisper, very cautiously.

The ﬁerce grasp upon his arm, which al-

'. most caused him to cry out, convinced him

that silence would be his best policy until

' they had gained safer ground.

Creeping along under the noses of the ani'

mals, they soon reached one which Eleazar

recognized as his own favorite Ranger, not-

. withstanding the darkness.

At a signal from his companion he leaped
into the saddle, which had not been remov-

' 1' ed, While his conductor gained the back of

another, standing beside him. Then a quick
cut from the Indian's knife severed the hal-
ters, and they rode from the spot with all
possible care. '
They crossed the creek at a convenient

 lace, and followed down the opposite bank.

or some distance they moved very slowly,

1' lest any clatter of feet should betray their
,cscape to the easily-awakened Comanches
' above.

At length, however, they started into a

., brisker pace, and then it was that Eleazar

  
began to feel some curiosity in regard to his
strange friend. Up to this time he had been

 
\.
toodeeply engrossed in the problem of escape

to think a great deal of the means by which

it was being effected. Now his curiosity

began to be aroused.
“ For Heaven’s sake, who are you?” he
asked, in low and careful tones.

The Indian uttered a series of gutturals-
which fairly startled the young man. If

he had felt any particular convictions in
the matter, they were dispelled as with a
breath.

“Now, if ye know who I he, keep yer
mouth shet till we git to some safer placel”

“Sam Reynolds, as I live!" exclaimed
the youth, in subdued tones of wild sur-
prise.

“ Keep yer mouth shetl” repeated the vet-
eran scout, for it was no other than he.

It cost the bewildered Eleazar an eﬁ'ort
to obey his friend’s injunction. That old

Sam Reynolds was really riding beside him, ,_

he did not for a moment doubt. His ears
had convinced him that such was the fact.
But how he came there, in the midst of

deadly foes, disguised as one of their num- '

her, and effecting so daring a release of a
captive from their very midst, he did not at
all understand.

There was no time to ask questions now,

for they soon gained the margin of the for- ‘

est. As the trees faded away and they rode
forth upon the plains, Eleazar saw that
dawn had already commenced. The dim
outlines of the plain could be seen, while the
forest they had left rose behind in gloomy.
relief.

“ Ye must ride now,” said Sam, as they
left the forest. “If them rotted varmints
hain’t got wind of yer 'bein’ gone yit, they
will purty soon. We must git a start of
’cm')’ r

They set off at a brisk trot, reserving the
best speed of their horses for a case of emer-
gcncy.

“ Tell me one thing,” said Eleazar, after a.
pause. “ Do you know what has become of
Erastus Hebert?”

“Poor teller,” said Sam, in a diﬂerent
voice. “We never ’1] see him any more!
The yaller-skinned heathin shot him full of
arrers and tore off his skulp.”

“ You are certain that he was killed, are

you not?”Eleazar asked, with a shade of I

doubt.

” ’Coerse I be,” was the reply. “ I see
him after he was dead and all cut to pieces.”

Both heaved a sigh, and after a short
pause Eleazar asked: ,

‘4 How in the world came you in the camp

and in that disguise? If Iwas superstitious,‘

I should think you had the power of witch
craft!"

“Oh, it was done easy enough: the vet ' 

 
The Blach Steed of the Prairies.

 
ran hunter replied. “You see, after I’d
': ,made ou that good oﬁer what ye wouldn’t

take, thought tew myself, I’ll go anyhow.
I went and told Cap’n Tompkins, ﬁxed up
_ an false head, and came on.”
ere the old man placed one hand upon
.- his head and quietly removed the scalp—lock,
. which materially altered the shape of his
' head. and gave him a much more civilized
‘ ‘pppearance.
, “Alittle water’ll take off this Injiu col-
" or," he added, "when it's safe to be white
'V‘ag’in, and the cloze I’ll wear a while,
lI-‘we see if thar’s any m0re use for ’em.”
' ‘va found out about what way ye was go-
,he continued, resuming the thread of
, story, “and kinder bore off and on, till
tetjdark. I’d jest found a place where I
“i 'could bunk down, when the plagu red-skins
5 time along, and Iliad to be re -skin too.
01;, see I know suthin’ 0’ their language,
, disc I passed off purty well. I found they
 as on your track, and I was glad they‘d
ﬂame acrost me, 'cause I reckined I might be
. s'df some sarvice. And I reekin I have, if we

'; iny have any kind 0’ luck now.”
; ' g“yBut how did you get me away?" Eleazar
tasked. “ You are not the guard that was set
ova} me at first.”

‘5No, that poor fool sot down and got
‘ sleepy, so that a little prick 0' my knife in
the back of his neck shut his eyes for a good
long nap. Course I took notice that nobody

' géés lookin’, and when the feller had got

  
s,’

    
v): .

 
7|».

  
iet, I took his place so that nobody mis-
ted the difference."
9 But don‘t you suppose they have found
t out now?”
i “Very likely. But we’ve got such a start
 that they needn’t try tew catch us.”
It was now quite daylight, and the rich
I gold which fringed the eastern horizon gave
token that the sun was near its rising.
“I think we've given ’em a ﬁnal slip,”
said old Sam, after glancing back and see-
v ing that none of the Indians were yet in
, sight. “I’m glad of it, my boy. Off and
_ _ I’ve ﬁt red-skins, and one thing and an-
) of the kind, for ﬁfty year, and now
I rytime Igit the best of cm it does my
. o ' eart good. You see, I don’t know but
every time will be the last, and so I don’t like
tew fail in anything 1 undertake of the kind.
But tell me, my boy, did you see anything
of'a. sneakin’ cuss hangin’ around the ‘ gap'
when ye come through ‘2"
Eleazar started at the question, and quickly
, stated what had passed when they came
~ V down. He gave the conclusion at which they
' had jumped, and asked his companion if he
knew.anything in regard to the would-be
assassm. -
“ I know this much,” returned Sam, shak-

  
ing his head, “he‘ll never trouble anybody
more what passes through there. He played
it once too much.” _

There was something in the old man’stone ..
which seemed to convey more than his
words. Elcazar ventured a question, but
received no answer.

“Don’t ask anything about it, my boy.
He wasn’t there for any good purpose, and
whatever happened to him was perfectly
right. If ye should hear of any low feller 1
what was missin‘, ye kin make up yer own '
mind as ye’re a mind tew. But don’t say
anything about what I’ve told ye.” ' -

Eleazar gave the required promise, and
they rode on, talking of such topics as the
occasion naturally suggested. Sam had a.‘
small supply of food, and this was divided
and eaten with a hearty relish.

They had ridden for some time in fancied ‘
security, scarcely looking behind them. But
when they ﬁnally reached an elevated swell,
habitual caution asserted its customs, and'
both riders cast hasty glances about. They ,.
were not a little startled at what they saw, .- .v
and Sam remarked, with a disappointed air:

“ By Tecumsehl if they ain’t all a—comin’i
We hain’t got through with the painted faces, ‘ '
yit, it seems.” . ,

Afar over the plains could be seen scat- V
tcred bands of Indians, sweeping across the ~'
broad swells with a wild, mad vengeance. '

The faces of the two white men were full
toward Austin, the place of their destina-
tion; but sixty miles of trackless prairie lay \ 
between, while two or three miles back"came_ 
a score and a half of bloodthirsty pursuers. '
The prospect was not inviting, more espe~ - j
cially when the fact is taken into consideraw  »
tion that one of the men had only a knifeW
and hatchet in the line of weapons. 1 , >

Not a moment was lost. Both spurred/",3"
their horses into a mad run, which plainly. I -
called forth yells from the distant pursuers. ‘
Rapidly sped both parties, pursued and pur- ,
suers. Miles were as nothing in the ﬁerce
race. On—still on they ﬂew, and when an ,
hour had passed the race was kept up, with '
all the vigor which had marked its opening.- ,.

At length it became evident that a few of "I 
the ﬂeetest-mounted among the Comanches “
were gaining. The black steed, Ranger, de‘y‘
spite the hard usage he had received, was, ,
capable of making still greater exertions; butts
not so with the animal Sam bestrode, and ’
the thought of leaving his devoted old friend '
behind had never a. dwelling-place in the
young man’s brain. ’ -

“Thank God, they begin to give it up,
said Eleazar, glancing behind. w

“ I say amen to that!” returned the ol
hunter. “I’m ittin’ a leetle triﬂe tired o

  
v...

 
The Black Steed of the Prairies.

   
But I kin stand it as long as any Injin,” he
added, with a feeling of the old pride.

“Good for your spunk!" said Eleazar;
" but I don’t think they will keep it up
much longer. Some of them ’ve fell 01]? al-
I '7?

-‘4{ “Then the rest ’11 foller suit in a. little
while. I can stand it a good spell yit.”

But if some of the party had given over
the pursuit, enough still remained actively
» engaged to give the two white men a
"1 very poor show for reaching their place of

 
_I ’ destination. At least ten still held on in
‘ ’4 pursuit.
“Are we gaining any?” Sam asked, after
a while.

His voice was anxious, and it was plain to
, / be seen that the long race was telling upon
b. . r him.
' L ‘ “ No, they are nearer,”said Eleazar, glanc-
in back; “ but another lot of them has fallen
0 ,so that but few are racing us now."
“Good,” said the old scout. “They will
fall off, tew, purty soon. But how much
they have gained!” he added, glancing back,
a. short time later.

CHAPTER IX.
FACT AND FANCY.

THE day and succeeding night passed over
the heads of those remaining in Cedarville.
Upona busier scene the sun never shone.
Even long after darkness had settled over
the place did those engaged in the erection
of ablock-house persevere in their labors.
Men, boys, and women, evon, were there,
- aiding with might and main in the efforts for

. common safety.

And While they toiled, Henry Vincent,
with a picked band of followers, was scout-
ing far away, to give the alarm should any
force of Indians appear. But none seemed
disposed to give them any trouble, and at nine
o’clock the rude building was pronounced
tenable. ~

The weak and defenseless ones at once
, entered it, while a strong picket force was

‘ thrown out, to give warning of any Indian
strategy.

Another morning came, however, and all
was quiet. Again the scouts went forth, and
again was work resumed upon the fortiﬁca-
tions. A strong line of palisades was set,
to keep intruders at a safe distance, and such
other devices as ingenuitér and experience
could suggest were adopte . r

Amid all the general din of pro aration
and bustle, one in Cedarville was si ent, sad
7 and almost idle. That one was Euphemia
Vincent. Peo le saw it, and spoke in low
‘lttfnes of the act that Erastus had drawn
' ‘ha marked slip, and had one forth in
‘59”, 3,01. assistance. 'And w on that fact

 
of the day following their departureyr

 
was mentioned they really supposed that
the whole matter was sifted. No one blamed
the maiden that she felt sad; it was but natur-
al, and showed her affection for the man to t
whom she was betrothed. ‘ '

But the mass was partially in error, and
wholly in the dark with regard to the state
of the maiden’s mind. The truth was, Sam
Reynolds had awakened a train of thought in
the maiden's mind, and great strife was being
created in her heart.

She had known before that her resence
was ever most agreeable to Eleazar {oberts,
and had fancied that he might regard her
with an affection reaching somewhat further
than friendship—extending almost to the
love of a brother. And there she allowed the
matter to rest, believing that her holiest af-
fections were given to Erastus Hebert. She
had not paused to ask herself if such really
was the case, andif she had done so it would .
have made no difference. She was not aware ’
that another and deeper affection than any
she had yet experienced could be aroused in
her heart.

Now she found herself strangely distress-
ed and perplexed. Erastus seemed to her as
he ever had seemed—there was no change in
her, affection for him; yet did the idea of
wedding him torture her fearfully. In her
fancy’s eye she saw the man who would even‘
now prefer death to such a sight, writhing , .
beneath the blow which should forever In
shroud his life in gloom. A dreadful horror .
convulsed her frame. Should her deliberate
act thus hurl a lovin fellow-mortal into the
depths of despair! ut her promise was al-
ready given to Erastus that she would be
come his bride at the proper time. *

“ Oh, that I could recall those words!”
she moaned, pacing the narrow apartment. .4
“That I could ask to be free again, and -
iay?”to him—what? That my heart is not  f

is . ‘
With one hand pressed upon her brow, _
she endeavored to reason calmly. Yet the
very effort was mockery.

In the night sleep came; but not as a
balmy restorer. No sooner were her eyes
closed than a pale, earnest, pleading face ap-
peared, and mild blue eyes beamed loving y
into her own. ,

Anon she seemed to see that sli ht form 
afar over the plains, mangled, blee ing, dy- .‘ ‘
ing‘. And a soft voice came to her, saying,

“ his is all for you, Euphie; but it is a 1 for
the best. I could not be happy and live
without you.” , .

And then, with wild surges of tie! and
remorse, not unmixed with pity, s e would
start to ﬁnd that it was a dream. , .-

No wonder that she woke on the momﬁg

  
.V’ \ t
| . ..

 
r

 
I

The Black Steed of the Prairies.

 
aching head and saddened countenance. Oh,
how she longed to hear something from those
who had departed on the mission of peril!
But she knew very well that a long time
must pass before the result of the mission
would be known.

And so the long day and another night
were away, bringing no news to Cedarville
of friend or foe. But the third morning
dawned, dark and rainy. Some unknown
force in the air about seemed to ﬁll the hearts
of the settlers with forebodings. Many pre-
dicted disaster, all wondered that no word
reached them from Austin.

In fact, their fears seemed in a fair way to
be realized. Soon after daylight, moving
bands of Comanches were seen approaching
from the eastward. One of the scouts was
killed and others driven back nearer to the
town.

Fear and consternation seized upon the
inhabitants when the facts became known.
A general rush to the block-house ensued.

The most doleful rumors and surmises in
. regard to the fate of their friends ﬁlled each

one’s mouth. Since the savages came from

the direction of Austin, they certainly had
good reasons for their fears and surmises.

All during the long day did anxious eyes
sweep the horizon, looking for the approach
of deliverers, but looking in vain.

As the long hours passed away there were
no signs of an attack from the Indians. Yet
they remained in sight, gradually approach-
ing the place, and giving evidence of an in-
tention to attack in the evening.

Finally the shades of darkness began to fall,
and the Comanches became' all commotion.

, The dread hour was at hand. Outnumbered,
and half-despairing, the defenders gathered
in desperate knots, determined to sell their
lives as dearly as possible.

The evening wore on, and no severe
ﬁghting had yet taken place, though the
savages were within half riﬂe-shot of the block
house, skulking about like so many dark
spirits of blackness.

, But hark! What sounds are those? A

/

‘ ,, volley, a wild cheer, and the unearthly rally-

ing cry of the Indians. In an instant the
aspect of affairs changed!
“Hurrah, boys!” shouted Captain Tomp-

kins, dancing for joy. “They’ve come,

‘ they’ve come! they’re ﬁghting now. Come

 f
it

 
,on and help 'em, boys! We’ll show ’em bet-

' .ter than to come here again!”

0 Rushing from the block-house with impet-
-uouss ed, followed by\his men, now ﬁred
with his own srdor, the allant captain dash-
ed upon the frighten and scattering Co-
.manches. ' «
'led upon both, sides with, such im-

  
' x»

 
' the savages fought, suchtimegas ‘

they fought at all, under great disadvan-
tages. Their braves went down like grass
before the mower’s scythe, and many who
sought to escape fell before the pursuit made.
The rout and defeat of the Comanches were
complete. And what made the result all the
more cheering to the defenders was the fact
that not a single man had been slain upon
their side. A few had been wounded, but
none fatally.

There was a happy scene of greeting be-
tween the citizens of Cedarville and the
brave men from Austin who had ridden
forth to succor their endangered neighbors.
There were ﬁfty of the latter, sturdy men ’
every one, well mounted and armed to the
teeth.

But soon the men of Cedarville began to
inquire where the brave ones were who had
brought them deliverance. The party from

Austin could only say that an old man and a . ‘ .

young one had reached their town; that the
former had been left behind, being too much
exhausted by the trip out to return so soon;
and that the young man had been wounded
at the very commencement of the ﬁght.

A search followed, and Eleazar was found
in a slight hollow which had escaped search,
faint and gasping from the loss of blood.
An Indian arrow had passed through his side,
inﬂicting an ugly though not necessarily dan-
gerous wound. v

A number of gentle hands raised him
from the earth, and very soon he was placed
upon a comfortable couch, and his wound
dressed. ,

“ Who‘s killed or hurt?” asked Euphemia,
as Cordelia Tompkins entered her presence.

The fearfully pallid features of the speak- 
er gave evidence of the terrible trial through
which she had been, and was now passing.
Several times she had attempted to go forth
and learn for herself, but as often was she
restrained by some indeﬁnable fear;

“ Oh, I don‘t know. Eleazar is dreadfully
wounded and two or three of the men from
Austin. '

“ Eleazar Roberts isn‘t wounded?” she

cried, bending forward, in an agony painful‘ .

to witness.

“He is wounded the worst of anybody,” in
returned Cordelia, scarcely realizing what
she was saying. «

What a current of emotion went seething
through Euphemia’s soul at that moment!
Pen is powerless because language is inade-
quate to express anything of the commotion
she felt.
near, she opened the door.

“ Where
asked. '

- ‘ “ Going to. see kiml’f/

 
./ l‘,

 
Grasping a bonnet which hung 

are you goingf’hsr companion] j

 
The Black Steed of the Prairies. .

31

 
“ But that will never do. You are too ex-
cited. It will aﬁect him badly.”

“I can be calm—see!” and she walked
away like a moving piece of marble.

A moment later she was beside the pallid
suﬁ'erer. No one chanced to be at his bedside,
and walking directly up to him, she placed
her hand in his.

“Are you much hurt, Eleazar?“ she asked,
bending over him.

“No, Miss Euphic,” was the despondcnt
reply, “thejobisn‘thalfdone. Why couldn't
‘ . these wretched Indians have made surer
work of it?”

“ Eleazar, Eleazar, why do you talk in this

manner?” said the pained though not sur-
prised maiden.
: . “Miss Euphie, I will tell you,” was the
i , . sad reply. “ My life will be a dreary waste
without you. tell you that, because it
seems to me I shall die, despite What they
‘ tell me to the contrary. I don’t want to
live, for what is the use of a life ﬁlled with
misery?”

“ But you will live for my sake, will you
not?” Euphemia asked.

A moment later she half—regretted it, but
it was too late. An impulse she could not
repress had urged her to speak, while the
words had come forth spontaneously.

The suﬁ'erer’s countenance lighted up for a
moment, and then he exclaimed:

“ I should not have spoken in such a man-
ner. I should say that I could not live with-
out your love, and that, I know, was given to
Erastus. Poor girl! How can I tell you the
sadnews?”

,. “ What is it?" she asked, while in her heart
there was a presentiment of what it would
' be.‘

“Then you’ve not heard that we’ve had a
ﬁght with the Indians, and lie—poor fellow
—was killed!”

“‘Can it be?” the maiden asked, turning
away to hide the tears she could not sup-
press. After a short time, she turned again
to the couch, saying:

“ To—morrow on will be better; I will come

in, and you shad tell me all about it."
5' ‘- She pressed his hand once more, and then
 turned away. How the night passed she
\- never knew.’ A struggle was going on in
 ,, her mind, but toward morning she became
v, ‘*‘- F, decided; so that she slept quite soundly for
I . an hour or two.

.- True to her ap intment, the following

‘ day saw her besideo the w0unded Eleazar.
’ and from his lips she learned the story of that
fearful ride to Austin.

 
As the reader is conversant with the inci-
dents, we need not detail them again; it be- .
ing suﬂ‘ieient for our purpose to sa that,
after the second squad of Comanches left the
pursuing party, the race was short. Those
remaining, although ﬁve to one, abandoned
the chase soon after, and all wended their
way back toward the West, where they sub-
sequently made their appearance in the at-
tack upon Ccdarville. Arrived at Austin, 8.
body of men was easily raised, and set out
upon a hard ride to the besieged place the
following morning. As we have seen, they
succeeded in reaching it that evening, hav-
ing ridden a hundred miles during the day.

A day or two later Sam Reynolds returned,
and he found his young friend doing well,
under the care of the maiden whom he
loved. But no words of passion passed be‘
tween them. If glances and deeds could be
considered as words, then something ma
have been said, but we do not speak posr-
tively.

Summer came, and side by side Euphemia
and Elcazar often rode forth. There had
been no further trouble with the Indians, for
the last lesson had been a practical one even
to their revengeful dispositions.

One ﬁne day, as they were riding thus, the
following conversation occurred:

“I’ve something to tell you,” said the
maiden, mysteriously.

“What is it?”

“ A secret!”

“So I supposed. But a joyful one, I
judge, from your manner.”

“So it is. Henry and Cordelia are to be
married a month from today.”

“ So soon?"

“ That is the time appointed.”

“Euphie, do you know wha. you told me
that night, after I was wounded?” Eleazar
asked, after an awkward pause.

No reply.

“You told me to get well, and gave me
hope. Now I want that hopes realized!”
said the young man, desperately.

“ If I gave you hope I should be very cruel
to disappoint you now," was the reply, ac-
companied with a look which spoke more
than the words.

At the end of the month there was a
double marria e at the house of Captain
Tompkins, an when Henry Vincent stood
proud and happy beside his binshing bride,
Cordelia, Eleazar Roberts was experiencing
very similar feelings beside his bride. Eu-
phemia. . .

    
nan.

 
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