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Copyrighted. 1887, by BEADLI AND ADAMS. Enwrod at the Poet Odice at. New York, N. Y., as Second Class M

 

‘ Published Weekl b Beadle and Adams p I
VOL XVI 33219592" No. 98 WILIYIAMYSTH NEW YORK. ’ “WI-Ceca“- No' 

 

“NOW TEEN, BREW]: RIGHT OFF THROUGH HERE,” SAID SIMPKINS. INDICATING THE PROPER 3:32:01“
'10 EB GOHPANION. “HOLD YER 1mm TILL I SAY READY. AND THEN BLAZE “my,

 

Sim Simpkins, Scout.

 

Sim Simpkins, Scout;

q R7
The Faithful Mountain Mastiff.

BY JAMES L. BOWEN.

CHAPTER I.
JOURNEYING FOR THE ronnsr HOME.

FAR away from the busy haunts of men, where
only Indian and wild beast might have taken up
their abode in times past, but of whose presence
the grand forest gave no indications—where
huge forest monarchs had sprung up and grown
to great stature, to brave the storms of centu-
ries, and finally sink again upon the bosom of
that proud mother from whom they had sprung
—where a bubbling spring had gushed forth,
and its little rivulet trickled down the side of
the mountain and away over plains till it became
a mighty river-where animal and insect gam-
bol in the freedom and safety of uninvaded
haunts, bounding hither and thither in ignorance
of that subtle danger which was pressing toward
them, and making their species every day scarcer
and more valuable upon the face of the earth—
where the solitude of nature and the rich wildness
of the mountain foresvseenery were such as to
attract the reflective mind at once toward the

rent Architect of unnumbered worlds—repose
he group to which we would call attention.

The ground at this particular point was hilly,
rising in wav y undulations to tho hight of twenty
or thirty feet, heavily covered with virgin forest,
and watered by a delightful stream, which ran
in zigv-zags hither and thither, affording place of
habitation to immense numbers of the finny
tribe. Away to the northward the hills rose in-
to bold, heavy mountains, and, far as the eye
could reach, the horizon was bounded by their
blue tops.

Such was the hysical aspect of the place.
Around a cheery hre, whose bright blaze might
be seen far through the forest, Were seated three
men, engaged in conversing and roasting some
fine fish, which the adjacent stream had just

'ven them, almost without an etl‘ort. A rude
El t of hen hs had been built near them, within
which co (1 be seen the forms of two ladies,
earnestly engaged in conversation. Two wagons
stood ate. little distance, beside each of which a
span of horses were quietly eating the forage
which had been provided for them.

The reader will hardly need to be told that

, this was an emigrant party upon a small scale,
journeyin through the wide rogions of our
own grea West, seeking a home nearer the
Occident. They had reached their present
camping place about an hour previous.
After discharging their various duties—includ-
ing the building of the bush but for the two we-
men-they had caught a supply of fish, and were
now preparing them in their own style.

The first, seated near the fire and slowly turn—

“ fig an improvised spit, is human Leonard,
p ncipal man in the group. He has seen some-
what more than . fifty years—years of change

 

and vicissitude. East and West he has been a
wanderer for I(ijluite two-score years, but now he '
has made a mi determination; and with his
family, is on his way to a new home, far in the
western wilds. Those two Wagons contain all
his earthly effects, as well as those of another of
whom we will speak soon.

Luman Leonard was not a man of very de-
cided character, and that trait was fully ex-
pressed in his features. Thus it was that, at his
age of life, he still continued a wanderer upon
the face of the earth. A will more owerful
than his own could sway and mold im like
clay in the hands of the potter. And yet, at
times, there was a seeming determination about
him amounting almost to stubbornness. In a
word he was whimsical and eccentric.-

Seated near him was a lad, fifteen years of
age, tall and somewhat ungainly i 1 form,
though his appearance betel:ch much ener v
and great strength for one of his years. 0
was busily engaged with a huge jack-knife,
carving fanciful designs in wood, occasionally
casting his great, gray eyes about him, into the
darkness of the forest.

At a short distance from the others, also en-
gaged in the preparation of their piscatory re-
past, sat a young man of five-and-twenty years.

n essentials he differed much from~both of
those by whom he was flanked. In personal
appearance he was about the middle size, rather
lightof build, but with full muscular develop-
ment. His dress was neat and carefully ar-
ranged, though with no show of vain display.
H 3 features were re er, and a light of steady
intelligence burned in his dark eyes. His hair
and heard, both of which were worn full and
flowing, were of a dark, glossy brown. Taken
all in all, Frank Sherman was just the man to
lead captive the heart of a romantic maiden.

And rumor said that no other ri‘ason had taken
him away into the western wilds with Luman
Leonard and his family. For— _

Seated within the rude bower already men-
tioned, were two women, the general resem-
blance between when} was sufllcient to establish
their relation as mother and daughter, at a
glance. ‘

The elder, a woman of perhaps forty-five
whose features showed ma traces of care, i
not of positive sorrow, was aria, the wife of
Luman Leonard. She had evidently been a
beauty in her youth, but with sad results to her-
self. That beauty had attracted the notice of a
purposeless, vacillating man, and for more than
twenty years she had followed his uncertain for-
tunes to the presrnt day). '

The other, a fresh, looming, beautiful mai-
den of twenty, was Cora Leonard, the daughter.
The rare loveliness of the mother had descended
in full share to her. But wisdom and beauty
had joined hands in the present inst mee, and
Cora. was already possessed of more than an
ordinary share of discretion. , '

It was a year since Frank Sherman first
formed her ac unintauoe, and longbefore their
removal, had ecome an open suitor for her
hand. When the family finally prepared to de-
part, and Frank cast his lot with theirs. it was
deemed proof positive that his wooing had’not
been all in vain. ~

 

 

 

 

Sim Simpldus, Scout.

3

 

“ Now, what a supper these fish would
make, cook ’em up in style, and hey a little
table tew eat ’em 01! on,’ said Leonard, after
'8. time of unusual silence. But, if a feller’s
got tew move, he‘s 0t to expect to fare rough.

less my stars, t is ends my hoistin’ round
hereawayl No purtier place in my opin-
ion than this fur our new home. I say here we
pitches our tent.” *

Frank Sherman looked up for a moment, as
though he would like to congratulate his com—
panion upon his resolution; but if so he did not
venture to do so, merely replying:

“ These are very fine fish; we seldom had any
as good where we used to live.”

“ That’s a fact. Gnve me the West, if a feller
wants to live, and take some comfort of his life.
Well, just look' at these fish; every thing else is
in proportion. And then the landwa month’s
work rhereabont will raise a man’s livin’ fora

ear. And what you raise you can calculate on

evin’ yerself. There ain’t plaguey gen *8. of
thieves organized and onorganized, topic up
every thing that they can lay their hands on.
Here if a feller’s sick ’tain’t quite so pleasant,
but then, ye ain’t so likely to be sick!”

Having thus demonstrated, to his own satis-
faction, the advantages of the region which
they had then reached on the “ borders of civil-
ization,” Leonard began to slowly gather up the
fish that were quite ready for the feast tobe
made of them. Frank Sherman followed his
exam 1e, and both Were preparing to transport
their uscious dishes to the table extemporized on
the ground near the wagons, when a new party
arrived upon the scene.

They were barely conscious that some per-
son came bounding through the forest, and
dashed, by them, but were recalled to life and
action at seeing the brands from their blazing
fire hurled in every direction.

“Stop!” exclaimed Frank, gras ing the in-
tmderreliy one arm, when he' be sufficiently
recove ‘ from the surprise of so sudden an act.
“What is the meanin of all this?”

“Don’t stop tar as questions,” shouted the
stranger, freeing himself from Frank’s grasp by
a. quick movement. “ If ye don’t want tew lose
the skin 0’ yer, heads jest take bolt and put out
this fire.”

And without any intermission he proceeded to
scatter the blazin brands.

“ But we wan to know what you mean:
what you are doing this for,” said Frank,
gfihfly angered, producing a pistol from his

“Don’t Show such tools tome," returned the
intruder, with rfect mmchalance. “ You’ll
find plenty of 0t er use for ’em. The Injins are
all abroad, and this woods is full of ’em, not five
mile from here. If they once git a sight 0’
this fire, ye may as well hev yer prayers said,
aforehand.”

The young man blanched visibly at the news,
and stood for a moment regarding the speaker
with doubt.

“ Is that a fact?” he finally demanded.

“ Ye don’t mean to accum me of lyin’ tew» ii),
I hope?” was the sharp question which met '3
own.

“Not in the least,” returned Frank, without

 

any hesitation. “But I thought it nits pose.
sible you might be joking with us. was not

aware that we were within the Indians’

Reservation, nor that the savages were hos-

tile.”

“Horse—tile, is it? I guess they are; never
seen ’em wuss in my life, and I’ve follered the
woods for near thirty years. They killed oif
my old chum, Billy Larkin, day afore yes‘
terday, and I’ve been a tryin’ new pay ’em 0115
sence.” ‘

Thus far Lumen Leonard had stood agape,
listening to the revelations of his singular
visitor. But now he came in front of him, and
demanded: "

“ Is this Indian country?”

“In course it are! All this side of the menu-
tains is their territory.”

“What in the world’s it best fer a teller to
dew in that case, stranger?”

The rson addressed turned a searching look
upon t 6 speaker, and then replied, slowly:

“I don’t know what ye want todew. But
if ye want tow git off with yer life, and
the lives 0‘ yer friends ye'd better hitch up
yer bosses, and git oacx toward the Missasipp "
as fast as e can go.” - '

“ Woul ye go tie-night?”

" To—nigbt or not, jest as ye kin afford. But
one thing I’ll tell ye for sart’m—ye‘ll go to-night
or never. I happened to spy yer fire, and left

 

my dog to watch the Injins while I cut 0!! this 1" 7

way and put it out. Now ye’ve got fair wam- '

in’, ye kin dew just as ye’re a mind tow about ‘
. savin’ the skin if yer heads. '

)7

“Well, I declare, I don‘t know what to dem"
repeated Lumen, once or twice. ‘ “Youmsay
In ‘jins hev riz?” ‘

‘ I didn’t say. But if e are goin’ to save any
0’ yer dewin’s what’s a card 0‘ them wagins,
ye d better hitch‘up and be makin’ tracks back;
For I kin tell ye ’twon’t be long afore the ‘11 be
here. I‘ve left my dog Pinchers tew wutcli 'em,.
and he’ll bring us word when they git tow near.

So, if ye’re goin', be about it, and Pi] go along 3 '

with e a iece an’ tell ye more 0’ the panicke-
lars; 7ut ain’t goin’ tew dally here a great
while. ’

“ What shall we dew, Frank 2” asked Leonard,
hesitatng in his own mind. “ What (1’ 6 say,
women—shall we turn round and go bac ?”

If the stranger's story could be relied upon it
was wisdom for them to flee immediately; and. _
such a depth of rough sincerity pervaded his
actions that with one accord they advised a.
retreat. '

“ Well, come, Alvin; I s’pose we’d better hitch ‘

up if we’re goin’," said the parent, addressing
his son.

“ So I s’pose,” was the drawling reply. “ But
it does seem pesky hard tew leave a ore I git a
change tew try my old ‘ Bunker Hill’ on ’21:)
once.

"‘ I reckon you’ll hev all the chance to try ’em
you’ll want, if you don‘t hurry upa little more’u
you bev done,” responded the stranger. “ New,
either put them bosses on in doublequick time,
or also leave ’em, for it’s my idea the njins ain't
a-goin’ tew sleep but few winks to—night.” -

Constant ng on the part of the stranger,
coupled with rank’s earnest endeavors, finally

  

 

succeeded in getting the horses attached to the
wagons, such goods as had been removed rc-
pIaCed, and the party in readiness to set forth.
‘_“~ 5
CHAPTER II.
THE HUNTER.

“ ON there, and ofl! ye go, whoever’s goin’ tew
drive!” shouted the stranger, when the ladies
had been carefully stowed away in the forward
wagon.

Alvin Leonard answered the summons, and

athered nip the lines, preparatory to a start.

he secon team being attached to the rear of
the first wagon, and trained to travel in that
style, required no separate driver. The boy‘s
father and Frank, therefore, took their rifles
and walked along in the rear of the little train,
not only to lighten the wagons but to guard
them more effectually.

“You needn’t be any aferird o’ Injins,”re-
marked the strange scout, seeing his companions

lance around apprehensivel y. “ I’ve got a (log
har watchin’ ’em, what’ll bring us word aforo
there is any danger from ’eni.”

“ One that has been trained to Indian—fighting,

I should 'udge,” said Frank.
' “'I‘hats so. He’s been with me eight year
last August, and I dew say, if I’d got to take
my pick between any man I ever seen and that
dog tow help me in a tight place, I should take
the dog. True as ye live. But I’ve knowed
some good men for that same job; Billy Larkin
was jist as fine atelier as ever ye see. Not so
quick-witted as some, but jist show him a piece
of re l-skin as big as yer thumb-nail, and if he
wouldn‘t put a rifle-ball through it, anywhere
within fifty rods, ye may sell me for a gourd.
But, poor Billy~tho cusses finished him at last,
and I’ve been payin’ ’em off for two days. It’s
been a dear job to ’em, and they hain’t got over
it it. Poor Billyl Him and me had trapped
an hunted and fit togeticr for near four years,
and he seemed like a brother tew me. Oh, the
consumed heathini I’ll make ’em sup sorrer
3th for that same thing!"

The scout clinched his hand, an 1 hit his teeth
together violently. As they walked on in the
soft starlight, winding about amid the hills,
they were enabled to observe the person and ap-
pearance of _the stranger more closely than at
the moment of his arrival.

In person he was tall and lank, but ssessiii :
immence muscular development. is ilong

. arms, swinging loosely at his side, had the ap-
pearance o bundles of thew and sinew. His

arb was coarse and worn, formed in a great
segree of the prepared skins of animals, some
with and some without the hair. Warm m!
, uncomfortable as this garb might be for srn-
" mer Wear, it was very well adapted t-i t'i »
(sealer seasons. and as it was yet early in the

L ' ' spring, he had not laid it aside.

_ . In one hand he sported a. ponderous rifle,
’~ which very few men could have held out

I steadily, yet be regarded it as a boy might re-
grd a stick, tossing it hither and thither with

e utmost carelessness, In his belt stuck a
large knife, and a pair of istols, While horn
and pouch were slung over is shoulder in the
usual st lo 01'. his class. .

But these were ordinary teatines; it was

 

Sim Simpkixis, Scout.

none of them which fixed the attention of Frank
Sherman. For some time he sought in vain
to find the puzzling feature. He surveyed the
face of the stranger by the starlight, and
wondered what made him seem so singular.

True, his countenance was long and thin, the
lower portion of it being covered by a bristlin
beard. The mouth was completely concealed
beneath the hairy trap, and above it a. peared
the outlines of aprominent nose. Then he look-
ed at the eyes. Ahl There it was!

The stranger had but one eye!

The other was sunken, and the brow and
lids were contracted about it so as to partially
fill the cavity. From the socket a broad scar
extended back nearly to the ear on that side,
showing that some dangerous chance had de-
prived the hunter of that useful member. The
remaining orb, which was of a keen gray,
burned and sparkled with the fire of an unre-
lenting purpose. It seemed to Frank Sherman
that he had never seen a human eye whose
glance was so utterly unbearable as that of the
strange hunter, Whose name was not even known
to them; notwithstanding the fact that they
were fleeing from‘a supposed danger at "his
behest.

Recollecting this fact, the young man said:

“I Simposc you will have no hesitation to
tell us w 10 and what you are, and the nature of
the Indian troubles which threaten ui.”

The stranger ran his single eye over the frame
of the speaker, ejected a mouthful of tobacco
juice, and then slowly responded:

“ There ain’t many in these yere arts, white
or red, but what knows Sim Simpkins. But,
seein’ ye’re all strangers, and don’t even know
enufl‘ tow take kcer of yorSclves when the Injins
is around, Is’pose’tain’t no matter 0' wonder
that ye don’t know me. Sim Simpkins, as I said,
is my name, and no name that I’m ashamed on.
I‘ve carried it for five-an’-forty years, and all
that while it’s sai‘ved me a good turn. ‘One
Eye 7 the [njins call me, and that name answers
the purpose jest as well as any other.

“ I’ve traveled these yere forests ever sence I’s
alad, and skessly a year 0’ all that time but
what thar’s been some kind 0’ trouble with the
reds. So I can’t be considered parfec’ly green in
the matter 0’ Injin-craft. First _I went intew it
wi’ my old dad and unkle. But one at ati'me they
got knocked over brushin’ it with the copper dogs,
and left me purty much alone. Most like y
I’ll foller the same way they went, sooner or
later, but it’s one consulashin, I’ve sent more
nor a hundred 0’ the critters off, one time or
another. It counts up fast when ye knock over
from one tow a half dozen every day for a
month, and like ’nuff keep it up all summer
about that way. "

While speaking, the hunter had kept his eye
in active use, making certain that no danger
for which they were not pro ared threatened
the party. At this juncture e paused several
moments. listening intently, and seeming to
take in at one grand Schp the whole array of
the forest forces about them. Apparently sat-
isfied that all was right, he proceeded: _

“ I.was goin’ tew tell go about this present
Injin rampage. Ye see it’s the Pawnees, cuss
their infarnal nasty hides. Wal, it seems

 

 

i
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i
r
r
I
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Sim Simpkins, Scout. I I 3'

:

 

they’ve some causetofeel bad, for a. few rnskilly
scang‘ps, what’s the same color as you and me,
cutsx 9, went off intew their country, and killed
some of their women an’ children, jist out of
pure diviltry. ’Tain’t much wonder it made the

nJins rave. Well, them scamps got clear, most
on ’em, and the Injins they jest went in for a
general scrimmage.

“ Me and Billy Larkin had been out trappin7
through the winter, and a poor fellow what had
one of their stray balls in his body came along,
and told us how the PaWnecs h- d riz, and karki—
lated tew sweep all afore ’em. We helped the
mar fellow up What we could, then sent him on

is way. Arter he was gene we talked it over,
Bill and me, and made up our minds that we
con dn’t stay there any longer; besides, it was
ittin‘ late, and about time to move, anyway.

6 didn’t feel like turniu’ our backs on 7em
store we knew anything what was up, and so
we talked it over, and Billy said he thought
we’d better go out and meet ’em. I didn’t say

is or no to it, ’cause I didn’t much care. But

on: as Billy wanted tew g0, Ilse willin‘, so we
pulled up stakes, buried our traps, and burned
up our shanty.

“ We started off, with everything we had in
the world on our backs, savin’ the traps we had
buried, and some few skins, that warn’t of no

eat account, anyway. _

“ This fellow what I’se speakin’ on, he told us
about where the Iujins was when he got hit,
and karkilated they didn’t intend comin’ much
nearer, not that way, at least. So we went out
Mithin about five miles 0’ where we s’posed they
was, and stopped for the night. Billy took the
fu’st watch, so I laid down, and in about five
jifl‘les was sound asleelp,

“The fu’st thing knew Billy was holdin’
ontew my arm, an whisperin', ‘ I’m afeurd the
Iniins are ‘round, Sim; I wish you’d see.’ As 'I
said, he wam’t the quickest feller in the world
tew make out any thing, but once let him out
arifle-sight ontewa teller, and ’Lwas all day
with him. So I begun tew listen, and I found
out that he wasn’t a bit out 0’ the way about
the red-skins. They was all round the woods,
and I made up my mind right off that they
was makin’ a night tramp on’t. Sez I, Billy,
we’ve got tew git off out 0’ this the best way
we learn. Right of! this way, and creep for it,

“So we crept of! the way it seemed most
likely we shouldn’t find any of the plagney
cusses. But they’s all round us. We crept and
crawled till it seemed we must have got well
clear of ’em, but then ye might listen, and hear
’em all round. Finally, it seemed we had got
clear and so we both listened to see it an o’
the varmints was anywhere round. Ve
couldn’t hear nothin‘, and then we concluded
tew walk. So we got ontew our feet, and be-
gun to travel. But in less’n a minit Billy
stepped on a stick. It cracked, and I hearn an
Injin runt; next minit ofl! went a gun, and
poor Billy sung out, “ I’m shot, Sim.’

“Well, blame me, tellers, it ever anything.
from the day my old dad was killed, took
me as that did. ‘ Where is it?” sez I; but afore
he could tell me the Injins give a yell, and three

or tour on ’em come, lickety bang, right outew ,

 

us. Billy had dropped tew the ground, but he
made out teW get his ride up, and one 0’ them
raskils never knowed what hurt ‘iin. The rest
warn’t much better, for I went intcw ’em rough
and ready. Mebby some on ’em got away, but
if they did I didn’t see ’em. Every one what I
sot eyes on fell down and hurt his head, so’t he
never got over it.

“ By’n-hy I got through with ’em, and then I
hurried hock to find Billy, and see hoW bad he’s
hurt. I tried to git him up, but the poor fellow
wouldn’t hear any thing to that. ‘It’s no use,
Sim,’ he said; ‘ I’m done for; take care 0’ yer-

sclf, and leave me here; the Injins can’t hurt me ’ '

any more.’ Course I wouldn’t leave an old
comrade that way, so I jest took him up in m
arms, and made tracks as fast as I could wit
my load. Iwas in hopes I could git him 03,
and doctor him up, somewhere. But thar’s no
sich thing. Ididn’t go more'n a quarter 0’ a.
mile afore I sto pod and sot him down. ’Twas
starlight, and could see his face toler’bly,
seein7 the trees was open above us. I saw then
that it wuru’t no use, for the poor teller was
nigh about one.

“ He (lidu t breathe more nor a dozen breaths
arter that, and when I’s sartin he’d died, I
ircssed his eyelids together. Blame me, chaps,
hut ’twas a hard job that—” and the rough
speaker dashed away a tear. “I carried him
oil? as far as I could, easy, and then I scooped
him out a shallow grave beside a rock, and put
him in. The Injins didn’t seem to track me

right off, for I had plenty 0’ time to fix up a
round the body 0’ my poor friend. I Waited till . "

niornin’, and then I crawled back where the In—
jins was.

and I jist plumped two on ’em in a. line. Both

tumbled, and while the red-skins was makin’ 

up their minds what had happened, I was jest
slippin’ back out 0’ the way. '
“ “79.1, to make a long story short, I kept

her in’ away like that all day yisterday. and
G ,

to—( av I’ve played ’ein the same game.
old Pinchers has helped me out of one or tew
scrapes, and killed one rod-skin on his own ac-:
count. I was jest i'allin’ back tew wait for the
lujins to-morrow mornin’, when I happened tow
see your tire. It‘s about the time 0‘ night the
Injins move, and I wouldn’t be surprised if
they‘s a—sneakin’ along behind us at this very
minit.”

“ You don’t s’pose there’s any danger 0’ their

cuttin’ oil? a teller?” demanded the startled, I ’-

Luman Leonard. ,

“ Sart’in, I do,” returned Simpkins, quite
coolly. as it seemed to the listeners. “Ye never
can tell what these cusses will dew, But. one
thing’s sart‘in, Pinehers ’11 bring us news it
they git uncomfortably near.”

Suddenly he paused, with a sharp “hiss,”
which put his companions on the alert. Then
he bent his ear to the ground foramoment,
rising with an indescribable expression upon his
taco.

The mystery of his movements was soon
solved, however. First a gentle movement, and
then the quick atter of some four-footed ani-
mal, was follow by the appearance of a large,
fierce-looking mastifl‘, which trotted up to Simp-
kins, and, after looking the hunter full in the

I seen a lot 0’ ‘ern sittin’ round a fire, '

I

,,

 

 

:4, J awn“; 

('2‘.

$§d\;  .r .

Leonard and his companions

‘ respectable pace. er. Leonard

 

0‘ Sim Simpkins. Scout.

 

face, turned about and gazed in the direction
whence he had come with a singular intelli-
gence. .

“ What is it, Pinchers?” demanded his master,
placing one hand upon the animal’s head. .

The brute uttered a low growl, snapping his
teeth together with a force which sent an invol-
untur chill to the blood of Frank and Luman.

“ e see what the animal says,” remarked his
master, turning toward his companions. “ Now
maybe ye kin read in books, and understand
somethin’ from the black marks on the paper.
I can’t, ’canse I never had any scch chance.
But when that dog acts like that, I kin read
‘red-skins,’ as plain as you can what’s made
with ink and stuff onto pa r.”

“‘ Do ye think they’re comin’i” asked Leonard,
endeavoring to pierce the darkness from which
the faithful animal had emerged.

“ Think so? No; I know it! I tell you, I’d a

rent deal sooner depend on this dog than any
fivin’ man I know. If poor Billy had minded

the'dog, he hed no need tew hov been killed as

he was. It’s jest as I told yo, tho tarnal critters
are oiu’ tew make a night movo on’t.”

“ Then what had we better dew?” pursued
Lumun.

“ Dew nothin’ but hurry on yer wagins as fast
as ye kin, and keep ’em out o’ the way, where
the Injins won’t catch a sound from ’oin. While
you’re dewin’ that I’ll fall back, with the up,
and see about mister Injin. If anything is up
one of us’ll let you know it.”

CHAPTER III.
THE FIRST SACRIFICE.

EVERY one in the group felt that not a mo-
ment was to be lost. Singular though it might
be, the strange scout had taken a deep interest
in the fortunes of the little emigrant part with
whom he had come in contact and reso ved to
save them from the infernal horrors which
would be their certain lot at the hands of the
savages, should the latter but once succeed in
getting them into their power. That they would

I 0 this, if the most strenuous means were not

used, Simpkins had no doubt.

Whispering a few words of instruction to his
dog, which the animal seemed to comprehend,
the daring man wheeled into the forest to meet
and brave the coming savages while Lumau
hurried on the
wagon. This was an unusually difficult task
from the nature of the ground over which they
were movinw. There was a more trail, winding
hither and thither in the forest, blind enough in
the full light of day, next to impossible to fol-
low in the darkness of a. moonless night. To
add to the disadvantages, when the trail was

. found it ran up hill and down, over creeks and

stones, brushwood and rats. To attempt fast

driving over such uncertain ways would be

about as certain destruction as falling into the
hands of the Indians.

Still the party managed to keep up a ver
mug in a -
vauce to select the way, while rank, at his
own request, followed in the rear to catch any
tidings or sounds from Sim Simpkins.

The women, pale and distresSed, conferred
together in anxious tones, while the overgrown

 

boy who ofiiciated as driver, handled his reins
with trembling hands, fearing, yet almost
hoping for an encounter with the Indians.

It was not half an hour before the quick tread
of Simpkins was heard in the forest, and with a.
stealthy, gliding step he moved up to the rear of
the little rain.

“ What is it?” demanded Frank, who was
beside him in a moment.

“ You’ll hev tew onhitch the bosses, and leave
this part 0’ the country mighty uick—wagins
and all, or you’ll be goners. The ujins hev got
the seen and are comin’ like mad.”

“ But can’t leave the wagons.” returned
Leonard, who had heard the announcement;
“ all I hev in the world is in them.”

“Don’t make any odds ” was the stern reply.
“Be quick in what I tell you, or ye’ll repent of
it. Quick you women; out and outer these
hosses. Y’ou, boy, straddle one, and you, stran-
ger, take the other. There, now, you are all
ri rht. Go ahead, and if We kin keep the rod-
skms back, so’z to give ye a fair start, we’ll dew
it. Now go on.” '

While Sim had been keeping up this running
conversation, the horses had been detached from
the wagons, the women mounted upon two of
them, r. Leonard and his son occupying the
others. It seemed hard to them to leave the bulk
of their earthly goods to the savages, but it was
a consolation that they had a fair quantity of
ammunition, all their ready money, and many
little articles of comfort and use on their persons.
But, however great the sacrifice might be, it was
a pleasure to save the livesnf somany, and their
hesitation at the step was but momentary.

As the were about riding away, Frank sprung

' to the si e of Cora’s horse, and grasped her ban

in his own for a moment.

“ You must be very careful, dear,” he whis-
pered.

“I will,” was the faltering response. “ And
you, Frank, have more need than mysalf to
be careful, for you have no horse to depend upon.”

“ Never fear for me,” was the encouraging re-
ply. “ This stranger IS a host in himself. I am
not afraid to trust to his guidance.”

With a mutual pressure of the hand they sep-
arated. Cora rode on with the family, and
Frank turned to the side of the hunter.

“ The Injins ain’t quite here yet,” remarked
the latter. “ I left Pinchers tew look out for
’em: but they’ll be here soon; while we're wait-
in’ for ’em, let’s run these tow wagons up along-
side. and set ’em afirei”

“ Do you think we’ll have to do that?” asked
Frank.

“ No, we sha’n’t km; to dew anIything of the
kind. We can leave ‘em for the njins, and let
them pull ’em over, but that ain’t what I want.
I’ve got a use for 'em. You jest step back he-
,him’l, that big tree yonder, and I’ll show ye what
tis.

The youn man obeyed the behest, and when
the one-ey hunter had placed the heavy wag-
ons alongside each other, which he seemed to do
with comparative ease, he burned himself by ap-
plying fire to the contents of one. Fanning the
sparks thus obtained into a gentle breeze, ho
upplii‘d it. to the other, and was m tiflt-d to 0b—
servc both vehicles spring into a ight iiume.

i

 

 

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” ' Sim Simpkiiu. Scout. ' u
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Gliding away he rejoined his companion, and
regarded the progress of his work With satisfac-
tion.

“ Keep yer eye out for any 0’ the torments,"
he said, “while I look back here a few rods for
just such a place as I want. I’ll show yo some
fun, pretty soon.”

He crept away into the darknew, leaving
Frank utterly m stifled as to his intentions.
Presentl he 11 led the young man by the
sleeve, a most fore the latter was aware of his
presence.

“ Come,” he whispered, “ I’ve found jest the
place, whar we kin pick out the reds at our

eisure. Here, now," and he pointed to a large

fallen log partially decayed and bedded into the
ground, ‘ plank yourself on the t’other side of
that, and keep watch till some lnjinsmako their
ap rance. You’ll see ‘em soon, now.”

.ven as he ceased 5 king there was a slight
commotion in the crest beside them, and
Pinchers made his appearance, exhibiting the
some signs as upon the former occasion.

“ Thar they come," remarked Simpkins,
placmg himself behind the log, beside his com~
panion. “ Here, Pinchers, lay down here, and
rest yourself. Now, keep an eye out. The
Injins’ll naterally gather round that fire. When
they dew, p’int your rifle intew the thickest
clump ye can see, and let ’em hev it. I’ll follow
ye up. That’ll naterally put the Injins tew their
trumps a bit. Then we ll be governed by what
seems best. ’Sh; there they come!” ‘

At that moment the dusky features of an In-
dian ap red beyond the blazing wagons,
quickly ollowed by others to the number of
twenty or more. As Sim had predicted, they
gathered about the fire, which was rather
agreeable, as the evening was quite cool. They
were fierce, dreadful-looking fees to one who
had never seen them before, arrayed as they
were in all the horrors of war-paint.

Almost reluctantly the young man brought
his rifle to bear upon them over the log, for it
seemed suicidal to him to fire upon such a gath-
ering of savages. But the old scout was calm,
thohpgh his Single eye glowed with a strange
lig t.

“ Let ’em have it,” he whispered, as the group
seemed upon the point of coming on toward
them. a *

With a dreadful shudder at heart the young
man brought down his rifle-sight, full among
the duskty throng, and when it covered the left
breast o a tall savage he pulled the trigger.

In quick succession came a flash, a report, the
falling of the sav e, and a yell or maddened
surprise from the ndian’s com nions. Grasp-
ing their weapons, they turn in the direction
whence the single shot had come, and seemed
prepared to wreak vengeance upon the unseen
marksman.

But Sim Simpkins, cool and collected, had
risen to one knee, with his rifle resting across it.

e waited until the exact moment, and then
threw out his heavy barrel.

“This goes for poor Billy Larkin,” he said,
and fired.

It did not Seem to Frank that he had even
glanced through the sights, but one Indian fell
dead, and another staggered from the hall,

a

 

which he received in the shoulder. The effects
of the shot were electrical. Almost before the
report of the shot had died away, not an In-
dian remained Within the radiance of the burn-
ing wagons, save the two whose war-path had
ended so suddenly. The balance of the party
had sought the nearest cover, and begun to fire
their guns and arrows idly in the direction
where the fatal messengers had sped. But their
shots were foolishly in vain.

Pausincr long enough to witness the result of
his shot, §im grasped Frank by the hand, and
led him quickly from the spot.

“Load yer rifle as ye go,” he said, when
they had gained a safe dlstance. “Hear the
blind fools rattling away,” he added, as shot
after shot was fired. “ They‘d better save their
powder and ball, and hurry along, if they’re
goin’ to walk with us.”

They reloaded their guns as they ran, and
when that delicate operation had been perform-
ed, Simpkins pausu . For a few moments he
listened intently.

“ Hark l” he said, at length. “ Don’t you hear
them pattin’ round out there?”

“ I think so,” the young man replied, in a mo-

ment.
“ That’s what you hear,” continued the
veteran Indian-fighter. “ They’re surt'in we’re
round there, somewhere, and they mean to nose
us out. Let ’em work, We can slip back about
ten rods, and give ’em another salute. It’ll
work different from the fu’st. They’ll make a
rush till they git beyond the spot whar the
smoke riz. But when they don’t find anything
they’ll naterally stop to hunt, and poke all about
to see what’s become of us.”

The two men began to Work their way back,
and when the had reached a. point which
sfigniedi to stri e the old scout’s fancy, they ,
s p .

“ ow ye want tew aim right whar ye hear
their steps,” he said. “Then, as soon’s ye’ve
fired take yer back track, and cut for good.
Pine are ’11 watch the red-skins, and bring in
word when they’re up to any mischief."

The last remark was addressed to the dog,
who wagged his tail in reply, and crept away
into a thicket near by with the most silent
movements. '

“Now then, shewt right off through here,”
said Siinpkins, indicating the proper direction
to his companion. “Hold yer fire till I say

ready. and then blaze away. Now, ready—-
FIRE l”
The two sharp cracks which followed

could scarcely have been distinguished from a
single heavy re rt. A yell of pain and rage
came from the ndians in the distance, but with»
out stopping for any further revelations, the two
dashed away with all the speed in hich was allow-
able under the circumstances. Rough as was
the wav they made good progress, and flattered
themselves at the prospect of leaving the nav-
ages far behind. .

“ Give me yer rifle,”.said Simpkins, when he
had flnishml reloading his own, which operation
he seemed to perform almost as readin 1! n a
keen run as standing still. / “I want a bellow;

mine’s too big.” ,
"He receiv the desired articles, and soon had"

 

 
  

Sim Simpkins, Scout.

 

the rifles both in a condition for immediate use.
Then he used, and after listening a few mo-
uring which all appeared silent, he

“ I reckin the red-skins air huntin’ for us yit.
Wal, let ’em work at it. VVhilo they’re dewiu’
that we’ll be gittin‘ out 0’ their way.”

“You don’t think there will be any danger
but that the family will get back to the settlo~
ment in safety now, I suppose,” said Frank, his
voice visibly affected.

“ I ain’t a proflit, nor the sun of a proffit, nor
the seventeenth darter o’ a proilit, and so I can‘t
tell,” replied Simpklns. “ But one thing 1 km
say, purty sart‘in: if we stave ’cm olf for an
hour or two longer, I shall feel great hopes of

ittin’ ye all out safe. There’s hosts 0’ the In-
ins, and not but a few of us. But Pawnces
ain’t over ’n above brave, and if once their
5 unk begins tew fail, it’s clean gone. I’ll
ew my best to git ye threw. I’d dew it if ’twas
only for yer own sake, young man. I must say
I've tu’k a likin’ tow yo, and 1’]! make my best
tally for your side."

T 9 look of satisfaction and gratitude which
Frank cast upon his companion were not ob-
served; for at that moment, an appalling cry
and shrieks burst upon their ears.

 

CHAPTER IV.
CUT OFF.

“WHAT can that mean?” demanded Frank,

catching his companion by the arm.
'. “ There ain’t but one thin it kin mean,” was
the quick reply. “The cut—t routs hev got our
friends intew trouble, and if we’re goin’ ter help
’em any, we’ll hev’ to he on hand for it.”

“ Then don’t let us lose a minute, for heaven’s
sake!” was the almost frantic response. “Oh,
God! If we should be too late!”

From the forest in advance of them, had
come shouts, and shots, and cries. Well they
knew that their friends had encountered some

rtion of the terrible Pumice band, and to

ank, especially, the thought that they might
be defeated, perhaps massacred at once, was
dreadful. _

Holding their rifles ready for instant use, the

> twain set forward at a r nud pace, Frank, kee )<

ing his place beside the taller scout, who stror, e
on as though darkness and unevenness of ground
were no impediment to him,

Suddenly both paused, for, right in advance
of them, the hasty tramping of horses could be

\ heard.

“There they come back again,” said Frank,
almost joyfully. '

“Don’t be tew sure; it may be the Injins,” re-
turned his companion. “ Step behind this tree,
and back our rifle.”

“ No, its them,” said the young man, a mo-
ment later. “Don’t you see the flutter of the
woplien’s dresses 1‘: h M In
. guess you re rig t, my y, arter a .
Speak few ’em, and let's see.”

“ Leonard! Leonard! Cora! Is that you?”
the youth cried, placing himself in the path be-
fore them. .

The panic-stricken party brou ht up their
scarcely less frightened steeds wit some diffi-

53..

culty, and when he had succeeded in bringing
his arty to a pause, Luman Leonard replied:

“pYis, it’s us; is it you, Frank?"

“ Certainly. What is the matter!”

“ We run right intew a nest of the critters,
out yonder, and like to hev all got killed,” was
the hurried answer. “I fear they’ve done for
Alvin, poor boy!”

“Not killed?’ demanded Frank, with a. dread-
ful pang at his heart.

“ He was struck, and tumbled off his mg, and
the rest of us had an all-fired narrer escape,"
pursued the excited father. “The Injins are
arter us, lickety—split. What’ll we dew, Mister
What’s—yer-name?”

“ Ye’ve got intew a clus’ scrape,” said Simp-
kius. f‘My way would be few git ofl’n them
hosses and cut their throats; ye can’t dew any

more with ’em.”

“ But the wimmin-folksim questioned Lumen.

“ If they can’t o afoot, yell hev tew keep the
bosses ” was the ecided answer.

“ 6 can,” said Mrs. Leonard. “ 1 am quite

willing to make the attempt, if it’ll be of any
use.
“And so am I,” added Cora. "It’s a pity
if we cannot walk a little distance, when
these brave men are daring everything for our
sakes.”

“ Spoken like a sensible little gal,” said Simp-
kins. “ Off you come.”

And grasping her in his brawnv arms, he
slun her to the ground as though she had been
a sac of feathers. In a moment his keen knife
passed through the horse’s neck, and the others
quickly received like wounds.

“Now we go this way, quick!” he exclaimed,
leading them off at right-angles with their for-
mcr course.

“Dad, is that you?” called a voice, as they
had hardly quit the forest trail.

"It’s Alvni!” exclaimed the overjoyed par-
ent. “ He ain’t dead, arter all. Here we be,
my boy!”

‘Hush—shl” warned the scout, grasBing the
inconsiderate aker by the arm. “ on t ye
know ye’r’ rig t among red-skins, and if ye
don’t keep parfictly qmet, and not make any
noise loudern er nateral breathin’, they’ll hev
ye arter all? ow, mind that, allvon ye, and
I’ll bring along the boy.” I ’

While the were pushing forward at their
best speed, 6 turned back, and grasped the
boy’s hand, leading him along with an exclama-
tion of caution. It seemed in the encounter
which his party had with the savages, Alvin's
horse had received a fatal shot after the others
had turned about to seek the only man who
could guide their destinies in suchafrightful
emergency. Horse and rider came to the
ground in a confused piles, and as no one could
stop to ascertain the extent of the damage it
was natural to sup so the worst. But the iad
was uninjured, an as soon as he could ex-
tricate himself, and pick up his favorite “ Bun-
ker Hill,” he started on in pursuit of his friends.

It was up rent that he ad been fortunate in
making suc good progress, for he had scarcely

left the traveled pathbgvhen the light steps of

 

 

pursuin Indians tould heard in the direction
whence 9 came. , '

 
  
  
     
 
     
    
  
  
  
   
 
    
   
 
    
    
 
  
   
   
    
  
  
   
   
    
    
  
    
  
   
   
  
   
  
  
   
  
    
  
   
 
     

  

  

.A  i___<_-h : 

 

“ Hurry along ” said Simpkins, giving him a

entle push. “but don’t make a bit 0’ noise.

f’ll stop a minit and watch these tellers, so's to
see what they’re up tew." ,

The lad obeyed, and though the sounds of his
progress fell With fearful distinctness, the

awnees were so occupied in matters of their
own, as not to regard the une uivoc'al sounds.

As they reached the place w ere the bleeding
horses were standing and lying, the band drew
together, and held a rapid consultation in their
own tongue. It was evident enough to them
why the horses had been thus abandoned, and
they felt certain the fugitives had esca their
brethren in the rear, and were still in t e forest.
But what direction they had taken upon leaving
the spot where the Pawnees were now congre-
gated, they could not determine. It was too

ark to discover any trail so faint as that left
by a party on foot, even with Indian sagacity to
assist them. They bent to listen; but it was
now too late for that. Had they resorted to it
earlier, it was more than grobable the unproc-
ticed steps of Alvin woul have betrayed not
only himself, hit the whole fparty.

The long acquaintance o Simpkins with the
Pawnees, and his artial knowledge of their
language, with suc gestures as the starlight
enabled him to observe, satisfied him of the ini—

rtof their council. It seemed an admitted
act that fugitives had struck off at nearly
right angles to the course they had been pur~
suing. he only guestiou seemed to be, in what
direction they be gone?

One party, and it Seemed the minority, urged
that t ey had taken to the mountains; while
others argued, with apparentl more proba-
bility, that they had gone to the aft and would
make an effort to get by them, and back to the
settlement. *

Opinions were divided, and finally each party
was allowed to take the course which seemed to
them most likely to bring them up with their
contemplated victims. Three. only, turned
their faces mountainward, while the balance
spread through the forest in an opposite direc—
tion.

The one-eyed scout waited till satisfied that
this was a permanent disposition of the savage
pursuers, and then he stole along like a dark
spirit behind the trio who really were on the
trail of his new-made friends. It would not

.have been likel to have added to the peace of

mind of those awnees had they known what a
toe was on their trail.

Ere a half-hour had passed, they caught the
sounds of Alvin’s steps. The ho had not uite
overtaken his party, and, as e tram on
through the forest, his heavy boots ave back a
crashing response at every ste . éhe Indians
uttered satisfied grunts as they eard these con-
firmations of their theory. They {paused and
seemed upon the int of calling to their mis-
taken brethren; git selfish counsels finally pre-

vailed, and they hurried forward, with long,
1 ing, noiseless steps.

ut rapid as their movements might be they
were followed by one quite as stealthy as them-
selves, andyhose purpose was uite as deadly.
Besde the white walked a four- ooted assistant
whom the Indians already had learned to fear,

 

, .

Sim Simpkixm. Scout. ‘ p 9

and whose ‘presence, had it been known, might
have cause a change in their lans. Pinchers,
having watched the savages ' their hostile in-
tention became evident to his brute sagacity,
had sought the side of his master, and now
trotted along without noise, ready for any
{lumber service which might be required of
im.

Of course the braves were not long in over-
taking the boy, and with him the entire family,
whose movements could be heard quite distinct-
ly. Un rotected as the fleeing ones were, none
of them ad a suspicion that their toes could
steal upon them so silently.

The nearest Pawnee was within a few yards
of Alvin, and had raised his hatchet, read to
bound forward upon the boy, when Simp ins
gently patted the head of faithful Pinchers, .
and pointed toward the red-skin. A ring foi—
lowed, a rush over the ground, and t 9 would- .
be murderer was borne to the ground by a force
he could 'not comprehend. Vainly he struggled,
while the hot blood gushed from his torn and
bleeding throat. The strong mastiif shook him
wildly hitlicr and thither, his terrible teeth
opening fresh arteries at every grasp.

The other savages would have fled to the as-
sistance of their comrade, but at once found
plenty of work to occupy their energies. One .
of their number fell at a single blow from the ‘
scout’s knife, and the survivor, seeing the fate
which had befallcu his companions, turned to
flee. But, vain was the effort. At a single
word from his master, the terrible Pinchers
bounded over the ground and dragged down
the fleeing Pawnee. The blow he attempted to
aim was not given, the lightning movements of
the dog preventing, and t e clutch of his sha
teeth u n the red-skin’s throat checked the ye
with w ich he sought to warn his brethren of
their untimely fate. There was a sharp strug-

le for a moment. and then the Indian
orth his life, while the sagacious beast sought
his master again.

Alvin, startled by the light commotion in his
rear, had turned to discover the cause. He was
a little non lused when he beheld, faintly, the
blood wor which was going on, and stood
spell- ound till it was finished. '

“ Yo ain’t much hurt, be ye?” Sim Simpklns
demanded, in his usual uiet manner. 'r

“Not a single speck,’ returned the boy. “I
didn’t know anything was up till I beam the
rum us goin’ on.”

“ 0, nor ye wouldn’t it it hadn’t been for
Pinchers. In 'est half a minit this here Injin ..
would have he yer skulp hung tew his belt. and,
them other fellers ’d a’ been skinnin' the heads 0’
the rest 0’ yer folks.” .

The lad rubbed his head Vigorously, to make
sure that no such ,unhappy fate'had befallen it -
and then they hastened on to 30m the balance
the rty. ,

“ e thought we beam suthin’of a scufle,”
said Luman, when the scout joined them in his
usual silent manner. “ I s’pose it warn’t nothin’
of no ’count.”

“ No; only three red-sldns roller-ed ye uphand
pup here, and I sent ’em to pay of! for poor lily

arkinl

“Ye don't mean that!” exclaimed the father,

    

  

   
 

'After proceeding 8. little distance further they

10 Sim Simpkins, Scout.

 

glancing about him as though to make certain
of his own safety. “ It can’t be that ye killed
off three Injins as easy as that l”

“ Hain’t, eh? S‘posin’ you go back there
and look, or jest take a squint at that do ’3
jaws. Mebby that ’1] set yer doubts tew rest.’

“ By gosh, stranger,” was the earnest response.
“ I reckon it‘s mighty lucky for us that we built
11 suCh a ’tarnnl bi;r fire, for we’d all ha’ been
killed if‘t hadn’t been for you; wouldn’t we,
now?”

A smile lighted up the single eye of the stern
hunter, as he lightly i‘csnouglnd: - ’

“ That ain’t sart‘in. Ye’il 'a’ stood about the
same chance of gittin’ away that a mouse would
of awin‘ through an oak while a cat was git-
tin ready tew jump on him; or maybe as good
a. sight as a man would to make his will arter a.
grizzly hed got his paws ontew him.”

“ I hope you’ll help us till we get to safety
again,” said the elder of the females, in a voice
tremulous with emotion. “ I am sure ‘we should
be lost without you.”

“He has been so good to us thus far, that I
feel certain he will help us to the end,” added
Cora. '
i‘ I sha’n’t leave ya,” was the assurance from
the lips of the scout. “ But, it won’t dew to
waste time. We must git tow the mountains
before daylight if it kin be done.” ,

As the party set forward, led on by the hunter
himself, while Pinchers protected the rear, there

lx'was one man in the party who felt differently
' toward the tall stranger than he had done five

minutes previous.

CHAPTER V.
MOUNTAINWARD.

SLOWLY—it seemed to them very slowly—and
steadily the little party crawled on, Sim Simp-
kins leading the way. Although be selected the
easiest route compatible with direct progress,
the way was very rough; especially so to our
emigrants, who were quite unaccustomed to
pickuifiheir path through forests in the dark-
ness.- far as silent progress was concerned,
it [was out of the question. Uiipracticed feet,
armed with heavy boots, made especially for
hard service in a land where cobblers were far
from plenty, could not tramp, slip, stumble and
plun 6 along without making a noise which
could be heard tar and wide through the forest.

To the practiced scout, whose delicacy of trend
could hardly have been equaled by a cat, these
pounds came with startling force. It was in
vein that he whis red injunctions to the party
to ste more li ht y. He soon satisfied himself
that t is woul be an impossibility, and devoted
all his efforts to reaching the mountains with his
charge, praying that no quick-cared savage
milght s within hearing-distance of them.

or we long hours they held on their course,
and then the swells of land seemed to take an-
other form. Instead of a rise and fall, like
waves of the sea, they rose very steadily, and
tell but slightly. Although they could not dis-
tinguish outlines and distances in the darkness.
it became evident tothe party from the con-
formation of the landyrthut they had reached the
mountains. '

 

came to a halt and gathered about their strange
guide, who had also paused.

“I s’pose we’ll hev tew hold a council, now,
suthin’ arter the manner of the Injins. Irayther
think we’ve got out o’ hearin’ and smellin’ o’ the
critters, and what we want tew decide on is
which way tew go.”

“ What wa kin we go?” asked Leonard.’

“ We kin ew one 0’ three things,” was the
reply. “ We kin keep on this side of the moun-
tains, and skirtalong back suthin’ near the way
ye cum’. Or we kin cross the mountains, and
go over to the settlements on th‘ other side.”

" Which will be the easiest?” asked Frank.

“You mean the easiest and the safest, I sup-
pose?” queried the dark hunter.

“ Of course,” was the answer.

“ It’s most likely the In'ins’ll keep up their
kerryin’s on on, this side 0 the mountains, and
’tain’t ’tall likely they’ll cross over. There’s no
knowin’ how fur they may go afore any of our
folks can come and stop ’em. We may git tow
a place 0’ safeg’ by comin’ back this way, and
we may not. ver t’other side about forty miles
away, we’ll find human bein’sgettled, and thar
I’ve no doubt it’ll be safer for us in the long,r
run. It’ll be a leetle harder gettin’ tbar, ’cause
we’ll find some urty rou h travelin’ over the
mountains, especmlly for t e wimmin-folks.”

“Never fear for us,” was the hearty response
of Cora. “ We are brave and strong, as you
shall see.” .

“ I’ve no manner 0’ doubt 0’ that. But it
ain’t for me tew say which way ye shall go.
Jest settle that among yerselves, and I’ll dew
in best tew git ye away from the red-skins.”

‘ It don’t make much odds to us which way
we go,” returned Luman. “ Wherever we stop
we’ve got tew go to work for suthin’ tow eat
and wear, for we hain’t anythin now. You’d
better fie ahead the way 6 t ink best, and
we’ll f0 ow 9. You know tter’n we.”

“ I’ve to] ye what Ithink,” the hunterre-

plied, “ and now I want ye to say what shall be
pone”; and say quick, for we hain’taminitto
ose. .
“I think we’d better go back this way, and
give warning and help to those who are most
exposed to an attack from the Indians,” said
Frank. “ We may be able to collect a body
strong enough to oppose them-to check them,
in fact.”

“ We ain’t the right sort of a gang to dew
that,” replied the hunter. “ Ye see the Injins
lied got beyond ye when e undertook tew cut
off on a strai ht line. at sort of a chance
would ye hev n a straight race 0' twenty miles,
on foot, with these wimmin—folks along?

“ I think I should be inclined to try it," was
the confident rejoinder. ,

“ Jest as ye say. G0 which way ye think
best, and I’ll dew my best for ye.‘ Only make
up ver minds quick.”

The party conferred together for a short time,
and then they turned again to Simpkins.

“ We’ve concluded we’ll try her on this side 0’
the hills ” said Mr. Leonard. "Mebby we’ll
miss it, ut it seems tew bad to let the Injins
right ontew them r folks what don’t know
any thing about it.‘

“ All right, then.”

l
‘l .
"i"

    
   
   
   
  
   
  
 
    
  
  
 
    
   
  
 
   
  
  
   
  
  
   
   
  
  
   
  
  
 
 
   
   
   
  
 
    
  

l
l
‘59

'made no indication to the rear.

Sim Simpkins, Scout. ‘ u ‘

 

Thus saying, the tall hunter glided on in ad-
vance of the party, and shaped a new course,
leading alongside the mountain range. But his
very manner, although he spoke no word,
showed that he was mistrustful of danger.
Keeping his eye and ears open he urged on their
way, climbing over such hills as would require
too great a deviation, and selecting the most
open paths through the extensive thickets which
lined the sides of tho mountains. There were
rocks, chasms and ravines in their path, but he
guided them all in the ready manner which only

ong experience can give, and conducted the
party steadily onward.

Presently an almost imperceptible rustling
was heard, and the moment after a dark form
glided gust those in the rear, and sought the
side of impkins. All recognized it at once as
the sagacious Pint-hers, and a general feeling of
alarm prevailed at his appearance.

“ D’ye think the Injins are artcr us?” demand-
ed Luman, with a hesitating voice.

“ We’ll see what the dorg says,” returned
theflveteran scout. “ Purp, is the Injins arter
us.

The beast cast a quick glance around, but
Finally he
pOinted his muzzle to the front, and after taking
a. long sniff, uttered a low whine. '

” Is it red-skins?” his master demanded.

A growl seemed to answer, as lainly as
brute signs could, in the afiirmative. But
there was no change upon the features of
Sim kins.

“ ' 0 sec, this dorg says thar’s Iujins ahead of
us,” he said. “ I suppose ye don’t think the
brntc’d lie; if yo knew him as well as I dew ye’d
know he wouldn’t. I suppose ye don’t any of
ye want to run ontew Injins the first dive, for
they might not be civil tow a feller. So, if ye’ll
sta here a bit I‘ll go on ahead and see what’s
too the dorg so."

No one offered an objections, and in com-
pany with his faith 11] mastifl", the scout set
off. He was certain that foes were in advance,
and was fearful that the party would be cut off
if they attempted to proceed further in this
direction. His own sense of safety had pointed
to an immediate crossing of the mountains,
which course he believed would have insured
the safety of the party. But as such a course
would have been more fatiguing, he was content
that they choose their own route.

Now, however, it was his intention, should

the savages be found in force’ahead of them, to

take the party b the most direct route away
from the surroun in]; den er.

Following the lead 0 Pinchers, to whose
sagacity the hunter trusted quite as much as to
his own skill, he traveled for some time. In—
deed, he was beginning to fancy that the dan-
ger, if any there was, was so far away as to be
of very li tle account~ But, while that thought
was running through his head, the dog. which
was slightly in advance, drew back, and looking
up into his master’s face uttered a low whine, as
though of caution.

Stopping in his tracks. Simpkins bent his
ear to the ground, and a moment’s listening
convinced him that he was much nearer the
Indians than he had anticipated. He could

 

hear the cautious movements of some being,
which long experience in such matters as-
sured him was none other than a savage. He
soon athered that the steps were approaching
the p ace where he crouched, and that the one
whose movements he had first heard was not
alone.

His first impulse was to pause and note the
direction they took, and endeavor to learn '
their motive; but second thought, the race]:
lection of the almost helpless party who
might be exposed to unknown danger by his 1'
protracted absence, caused him to forego that
intention, and hasten back to his charge. .

Taming, he crawled away ver stealthily, and
when asuflicient distance had een gained to
render his movements safe, he started back at
as rapid a ace as was consistent with ordinary
caution. ginchers trotted along beside him,
and his strange actions served to excite the bun.
ter to greater speed.

“ What’s up is more’n I kin tell,” he mused,
feeling the interior of his rifle-pan, to main
sure that the priming was in order. “If we
hadn’t just come from thar’ I’d swear the dorg
smelt Injins that we . Idew believe he docs.
though why do didnt scent ’em store I can‘t
say. Gosh, all fire—locks! If they should 5) ile
my work, arter all.”

He ave less bed now to cautiousness, ard ,
trotted forward, regardless of the rotten twigs
which cracked beneath histread.

Suddenly a all rung over the still forest.
Too often had im hbard that dreadful cry to
doubt its meaning, Even at that distance the
wild whoop of the Pawnees was appalling, long
as he had been accustomed to it. What, then,
must it be to those who had never heard it be-
fore that night?

The first fierce yell was followed by shots and
shouts which the stern hunter knew were not all
Indian, and the thou ht that his fellow-men
were making a brave efense, served to dispel
half his anxiety. Still he flew rather than ran ,
through the forest, and in a very short time had /
reached the vicinity, though fully half a mile 1
away at the commencement of the conflict, ‘

Yet, as short as had been the time, all sounds
had ceased. and it was evident that one party
or the other remained masters of the flel .
Which it might be, he could not tell. There
were no sounds of any strug ling, no fugitives
flying from the scene. A cod chill began to
settle upon the hunter’s heart.

“ I see how it is ” he thought. “The Injins
beat, as 0’ course t ey would, and now they're
takin’ the hair 0’ their victimsl It‘s too bad;
but maybe they ain’t all'flaxed out, and I may
dew su’thin’ yptl” ‘

He crept up toward the spot, dreadin the
revelation which could not be avoided. was
quite near the place when a confused moving
seemed taking place, and in a few moments
three or four forms appeared, pushing through
the shrubbery. They were not indians, he was

were his friends and allies soon became appnmn

soon convinced, and the joyful fact that 
Rising up carefully, and speaking as he 'm .:,.:C;

so,- in order that some excited one
send a shot toward him in the darkness. be con,
fronted the party. ’

 

 

swan. may 1: s . -

. . z  Raw-

 

 

 

 

‘12  Sim Simpkins. Scout.

“What‘s the news?" he asked. “ What was
the flrin'?”

" A cussed lot of Injins ” returned Leonard,
who was in advance. 6 give ’em a drubbin’
out, then b. But, blast ’em, they’ve took off
Cora, an hit Frank a knock over the head.”

“ I ain’t hurt a bit,” said Frank, who was
quite wild from the force of the blow he had
received. “ But I tell you, I must have that
girl back—I‘m going after her alone, if none of
you will go with me. ’

“ Wait, and be cool, youngster,” returned the
old scout, with the same calmness which ever
characterized him. “ We must git away from
here, or the place will be swarming with Injins,
in a minute. Come, right up the side of the
mountain is the best way tew pursccd.”

“ But my daughter!” exclaimed Mrs. Leonard.
“ What will become of her?”

' “ Trust her to God, for a short time,” was the
reply, which had a stran re sound as it f ell from
those lips. “ We must ook out for ourselves,
and when that is done we’ll give ourattention to

r the al.”

“ ’m afraid I never shall see my child againi”
was the desponding rejoinder.

“ You mustn’t be afeard of any sec-h thing,”
was the response of the scout. “You mustn’t
think of that at all! Wait till we find a place
where the red—skins can’t git at the rest of ye so
easy, and then, if it’s a possible thing for mortal
men tew git yer darter away from the red—skins
she shall come.”

“ Then do let us hasten!” pleaded the agonized
mother.

As they climbed the sloping side of the moun-
tain, the hunter gathered from the sorrowing
father the particulars of the daughter‘s capture.

It seemed that the party waited in silence for
the return of their absent guide, keeping their
rifles in hand, since they were fully cognizant of
the danger which might threaten them at any
moment. Hearing movements in the forest
near by. they naturally su posed Sim to have
returned, and fancied that 6 might be unable to
discover their exact whereabouts in the dark—
nets. The slight signal which they ventured to
five caused a cessation of the sounds, and too

ate they began to realize that instead of signal—
ing their absent guide, the had drawn the at-
tention of a passing band 0 Pawneos.

Holding their rifles ready, the party waited
the onset they expected. They were not disap-
pointed. With a rush and a yell something
more than half a dozen of the painted red-skins
had rushed in, but two of them met their fate
from a. rapid volley which the whites gave when
the forms of their foes became visible. The
salute from the rifles being followed up by a. dis-
charge of pistols, and the three whites maintain-
ing a bold front, their numbers seemed magni-
fled to the Pawnoes, who fled, leaving their dead
behind.

On looking about to congratulate themselves,
the?r found that Frank had been partially stun~
he by a blow from some blunt weapon, and,
saddest chance of all! that the gentle Cora had
utterly disappeared. To their unpracticed
senses it was evident that she had been carried
QR bodily by the savages, and not knowing in

, gold for him—that’s what I wouldn’t.

 

What manner to proceed, they set out, hopingto
meet Simpkins. "
In this we have seen them gratified.

CHAPTER VI.
THE MISSION. _

THE party pushed up the side of the mountain,
which was not very abrupt, and as they pro-
ceeded, the evidences of finding such astrong—
hold as Simpkins sought became every moment
more apparent. Large masses of rock appeared
upon all sides, and the way was obstructed by
fallen trees and ravines.

Pausing at length, the guide sought out a place
where he fancied no roving band of sava es
would penetrate, and which it seemed proba lo
that one or two determined men could hold
against quite a body of foes.

“There,” he said, leading,r them to the lace
and stationing the arty; “ I want you, 01 man
and boy, tow stay ere and take hear 0’ your—
selves, while me and this other feller goes oil!
tew bring back the gal. Keep yer eye out fer
red-skins, and don’t waste a karnil of powder,
acause it’s (Precious stuff. You’re tew keep out
o‘ sight, an if ye see any Injins let 'em go by,
if they’ll dew it.”

“ I fancy us two don’t stand much of achance
for getting her away, if we find where she is,”
said Frank, rather im atiently.

“ Can’t tell nothin’ u )out that,” returned Sim.
“ Here’s Pinchers—he’s more nor two purty
good men, and we may dew the thing right 11 .

Sut it’s quite as likely no human bein" kin be p
the r gal."

“ ’m afraid we‘ve waited too long," said. Frank,
as the began to descend the mountain—side.

“ e couldn’t dew anything till mornin’, so's
teW git a little light. But it‘s comin’ now, and
we won’t lose any more time.”

They repaired at once to the scene of conflict,
and were not surprised to find the bodies of the
fallen Indians removed.

“ They come back with more force tew give
yo a hekin’,“ said Simpkins.
here, they concluded ’twar best tow ick up them
what hcd got knocked over, an’ magic their way
off. Here, Pinchersl”

“ The dog readily responded, and his master
continued:

“ Here, pup, we want tow find these red—skins.
Now be sure you don’t lose ’em.”

The intelligent animal snuflfed around for a
moment, and then set 0133 at full speed. He
sluckened his pace on finding that his master
and companion wished to follow, and, together,
the three journeyed throu h the woods, Pinchers
smelling out the trail, an the men following at
their leisure.

“I tell yew it saves a deal 0’ searchin‘ and
peekin’ round tew hev sech a pup as that," re-
marked Simpkins with commendable pride. “ I
tell ye I wouldn’t take that feller’s weight in
'Twould
he a mighty poor speculation. It’s very sart’in
I never’d ’a’ tram these w s so long as I
have if it hadn’t been for that same pup. But,
we’ll hev’ tew be keerfnl now; I karkelate we’re
a-gittin’ purty near the Injins. I’ll tell ye a lit-
tle suthin’ about that pup some day, if ye want
tew bear it,” ‘ .

 

“ But as ye wa’n’t '

 

i
,

 

  

   

 

Sim Simpkins, Scout.

1:

Frank signified his pleasure to listen at any
convenient time, and then the conversation was
dropped During the few minutes which had
elapsed since they had left the place of the fight,
they had been tending almost due west. The
direction had been such as to take them 11 n
quite level ground, where the save es woul be
comparatively uncovered, and con (1 be espied
at considerable distance. But, this fact had
about equal drawbacks, since they could not ap-
proach a body of savages in security, if they
were once discovered after daybreak.

Soon Sim paused, and patted his rifle, as he
pointed in advance of them.

“ D’ye see the critter?” he demanded. “ \Ve’re

in’ low find some of ’cm purty soon; no

nowin’ whether it’s the ones we want or not.”

Frank strained his eyes through the gloom of
dawn, but could distinguish nothing with cer-
tainty. He replied briefly that he could see
nothing answering in appearance to an Indian.

“Ye won’tsee him any more,” returned the
scout. “ He’s one behind some bushes. If I
ain‘t mistaken is fcllcis are over there someL
wheres. We’ll look and see what’s to be found.
Tread as light as you kin.”

Frank followed in the f ootstc of his leader,
and thus the twain approacht the place indi-
cated. It was a rank growth of bushes, as they
found upon gaining it, which extended some
distance along the forest, crossing the course
they had been pursuing, at rivht angles. Pinch—
crs, too, had fallen back beside his master, as if
to indicate that his part was performed in regard
to the trail.

It was something of a task to penetrate the
hedge-like bushes, and before the old hunter had
reached the opposite side he paused, and, hold-
ing the bushes slightly apart with his left hand
beckoned to his companion with a gesture of
caution. The other pushed carefully forward
and peered through the opening thus made, The
sight which met his eyes, though for from being
of a pleasant nature, was still gratifying, to a
certain degree, and in a peculiar manner. ,

Seated around a. small fire, and evidently cn—
gaged in a council, were about twenty Indians,
all men of mark, fearfully painted and plumcd.
They were gravel discussingr some question, in
which they seem much interested, and in re-
gard to which there seemed a diversity of opin-
ion. Straying about at short distances, listening
to the counsels of their superiors, and guarding
a solitary prisoner, the gentle Cora Leonard,
were four or live more, evident] y debarrcd by
youth and inexperience from taking part in the
council. The maiden seemed sad and weary;
whether the expression upon her face indicated
hopelessness or despair, they could not deter-
mine.

Frank gazed at the spectacle a full minute,
drawing his breath through closely-shut teeth,
and gaging his rifle with firm hands. Then
he turn to Simpkins, and asked:

“ What are you going to do?”

“ Can you find yer Way back to where yer
folks was left?" the hunter demanded.

“ I am very sure I can." '

“ Then go ahead, and tell her father and
brother what’s a-goin’ on. The 're holdin’ a

council over her, and my idee is t iat they’ll try

13

to kill her some Way. If there ain’t any Injins
hnn rin’ round there,- l-avc her mar hid away
som er’s thar, and the rest of ye hurry back here
as fast as ye can come. I guess yell hev time
enulf, and if ye don’t, pa and I’ll try and take
kccr of ’oin till ye come. ow don’t lose any time,
no; thekway, eithiei'.”b ‘ t b]

‘ran' romisc o enscxped ious as si e
and had IFO doubt of being successful. Hegilized
very well that two to twenty-five was rather too
great odds for even the valor of Sim Simpkins.
He took the general direction, and then crawled
forth, making his way with all possible caution
until out of reach of the savages. Then he
started forth at a rapid ace and was very
soon lostto the sight of his companion in the
bushes.

Sim Simpkins was left alone almost in the
midst of his foes. Calling his dog beside him by
a gesture, and closing the bushes all about them,
he waited with patience the return of his was
senger, watching closely the proceedings of the
Indians, meantime.

With them the council was now taking the
form of a dispute rather than that legitimate)
belonging to it, and high words passed wit

lentil'ul flow from one to the other. The unseen
istener endeavored to gather enough of the dis-
pute to jud re of its nature, but in this he was
unsuccessfu , all being in the Indian tongue, with
so many Pawnceisms that he found it impossible
tomakc out the precise subject. It mi ht or
might not relate to the maiden; he thought the ’
latter.

Atlcngth one, more furious than his fellows,
rose to his feet, a‘nd, brandishing his hatchet,
wrathfully, in front of another brave, the chal-
lenge, If such it was, was promptly accepted.
and the two prepared for a decisive contest.
Several preparatory blows were 'ven and
parried, before the others could co oct then»
sclves to stop the conflict. -

Each and every one of the warriors hurried
to his foot, and sprung this way and that in the
futile endeavor to so} arate the two determined
antagonists. This “as not done till a third. 8.
tall, powerful fellow, stepped between, and hold-
ing the combatants apart with main force, ad-
dressed them in no mcasured terms, if estures
and gutturals be indicative ‘of forci le lan-
guage. ,

Those measures not proving eifective, assist
once was called and the belligerents de rived
of their weapons, after which they were owed
to go at large, which they did with a rather
chopfallen air. The (onncil was then resumed,
but not with the candid earnestness which i
usually distinguished inch gatherings upon‘the
part of the Indians. It soon terminated inan
angry bolt, and as is usually the case, the fiercest
party bore sway. ' ‘

It was now quite dark, and Sim kins from
his uncomfortable covert, leg-an to ook for the
return of his expected allies. He hoped they
would come, and that very soon; for, in the
present excited state of the Indians, it wasun-
certain what their next move would

It soon became evident what the intentions
of the Pawnees were. A stout sapling near by
was fixcd upon as a stake, and to that the
prisoner washound. Then a short pause W30

 

  

 

 

. dreadtu

14 Sim' Simpkins, Scout.

 

made, after which a portion of. the gang scat-
tered themselves about to gather brushwood and
fag‘ots. , ,

he younger party, mere boys, who had never
,seena war-path before, amused themselves by
tormenting the helpless victim, in all imaginable
ways. Arrows were drawn to the head and
aimed full at her, after which the bow was
gradually relaxed. Hatchets were hurled, strik-
in the sapling above her head: or, perchance,
on y the motions would be made, the wouldabe
warriors heartily enjoying any shrinking upon
the part of the maiden.

Fre uently the stern hunter was tempted to
risk a] on a sudden dash, with only his sagacions
canine friend to back him against more than
a score of enemies, and as often be restrained
himself, casting back anxious glances in the
direction whence his expected help was to come.

“The brutesi” he mused, grinding his teeth
together hard, “ I’ll pay ’em for all this usin’ a
poor gal, and ‘speshilv one as good’s this yere.
Curse ’em, I say! How 1 wish’t them folks
would make their appearance!”

But they did not come. One long minute
after another rolled away, minutes freighted
with importance, and no signs of the required
assistance. If it came not soon it would be too
late! The Warriors had collected a large pile of

.brushwood, and only hesitated to apply the

brand that they might enjoy the too obvious
sufferin of their prisoner.

The c1rcle was formed, and the horrid orgies
commenced. Still, for a time, the fatal brand
was not applied. It was satisfaction enough for
the brutal natures'of the Pawnees to witness the
Sufl‘erin s of their victim in anticipation of the
fate which seemed in store for her.
Once or twice she cast her eyes around, as
though in hope that friends might be near to at-
tempt her rescue. But she saw no one, and as
reason told her how vein was any such hope,
fine bowed, her head and groaned in bitterness of

eart.

Finally the critical moment seede at hand.
'A savage raised a blazing brand from the re-
mains 0 their late council—fire, and plunged it
into the brushwood. The movement destroyed
the flame, but a little blowing and coaxing soon
revived it, and a warm glow spread upward and

/ around.

At the same moment, when Simpkins was
,nerving his heart to brave the terrible odds
against him, he descried a moving form away
through the forest; then another, and yet an-
other! Joy! The promised needed assistance
was now at hand! It would still be in time, as
the were coming rapidly.

e on! thing to be feared was that the In-
dians wou d discover the new-comers, and that
was the very thing which did happen. A
"watchful brave, whose attention was not direct.
ed entirely to the fiery spectacle before them,
saw the advancing forms, and quickly com-
municated the news to his brethren. A rush
was at once made to meet them, the Indians

, penetrating the bushy thicket, and crouching

01656, in order to prepare an ambush for their
up roachin toes. ,

e of t a number was so unfortunate as to
enter the bushes, exactly where Sim and his dog

 

were crouching. But he made no alarm. In an
instant the sharp teeth of Pmohers were fasten-
ed in his neck, and he sunk to the round, to
struggle for a moment and then die. be others
gained the cover in safety, and in a few mo-
ments not a savage was to be seen.

As be rapid! considered the position in which

he was place , even the stern hunter, who had
never found himself in a. painful dilemma, felt
almost uncertain what course to pursue. A
man less experienced and daring, or less cool
and wary, would not only have been utterly
lost, but every one he attempted to save would
have shared the same fate. In that case, it is
hardly necessary to say that this truthful nar-
rative would never have been written.

The single—eyed hunter felt that the real:
crisis of his life had come, and he nerved him-
self to meet it.

CHAPTER VII.
THE CRISIS. ’
HIS friends were still far beyond rifle—shot
and as he was satisfied that the Indians would
not fire upon them till they were quite near,
he had stil time enough for any quiet scheme
which would occupy but a moment in the ex-
ecution, and could be accomplished without fail.
The flames were still burning rather slowly,
and Cora was quite uninjured. To extricate her
from the deadly peril surrounding her, and warn
his allies of the danger in store for them, all in
the presence of a quarter of a hundred blood-
thirstfi'foes, was the slight task which devolved
l

 

upon 3 single arm.
It was no wonder that in the grand ril of
the moment Sim Simpkins forgot self, nger,

everything save the work he had on hand. The
thought that he might be killed never entered
his head. Death at that time would have had
no terrors for him, could his object but have
been accomplished.

Within one moment after the last savage had
entered the thicket Simpkins s rung from it,
knife in band. He had noticed t e exact man-
ner in which the maiden'had been bound to the
tree, and knew exactly how the three cuts
which it would require to liberate her must be
given.

Six or seven bounds carried him to the spot,
and in just one second of time the thongs were
loosened. His rifle had previously been placed
upon his back, and dropping his knife beside the
fire, the hunter’s strong arms were thrown about
the maiden, and she was dragged forth.

Grasping her more firmly, the athletic scout
sprung away, and sought the shelter of a large
tree. There he placed his burden upon t 6
ground. and directed her in which direction to
run, with all s d. The poor maiden, half in-
sensible from ear and torture, had iven up all
hopes of succor, and prepared hersel for death,

' the cruel death which seemed unavoidable. But

now, as she realized that assistance had really
come, her energies returned, and she obeyed the
behest of her deliverer with all possible expedi—
tion.

So general had been the attention of the sav-
ages to those who were a preaching, that but a
single Pawnee witnessed any part Of the bold
act, and he but saw the form of the hunter as

 

Sim 'Simpkins. Scout. L '1‘

 

he dashed away. Quickly calling upon two of
his companions, the three sprung up, and started
in pursuit of the daring man, thinking he must
be speedily overtaken, and both the whites dis—
patched without any alarm to the others, who
were coming down in front. As the uel
grovod, they were most sadly mistaken. im

impkins had gained too much in his compli-
cated scheme to be easily thwarted now.

No sooner did he glide behind the treh than
his rifle was unslung, and the next moment its

sharp voice spoke the death-note of one ur—

suer. Without pausing to note the result 0 his
shot, or the course which might be taken by his
toes, Sim sprung ra idly away, being but a few
paces behind the ing maiden at the outset,
and speedin gained er side.

The Indians are proverbially poor shots at a
movin mark, however good they may be when
firing mm a steady aim at a stationary object.
or this peculiarity the scout had taken advan-
tage, and though the exposure of himself and
companion would seem suicidal to one unac-
quamted with the peculiar traits of the red-
men, he had no fears of the few bullets which
went whistling by them. True, a lucky chance
was among the possibilities, but not probable.

Meantime his assistants, having heard the
shots, were coming on at redoubled speed.
To attract their attention, and keep them from
rushin upon certain destruction, he gave a
loud ca , which they did not fail to hear. Hav-
ing attracted their notice, he quickly warned
them, by voice and sign, of the danger before
them, and their direction was at once changed.

The Pawnees were far from realizing the as-
pect affairs were takin ; and finding that their
trap was discovered, t ey rushed forth, yelling
wildly, and firing at any white they saw.

“ Save your powder till they git closer,”
shouted Simpkins, seein that some of his allies
were u n the point of ring. “ Hold yer fire,
and Pi come tew ye.”

They heeded the injunction, and with rifles

resented, waited calmly forthe coming of their

eat, and those they had come toassxst. The
moral effect of this movement upon the savages
was decided. Those three dark barrels, frown-
ing down upon them, provod too much. Not
one of the dozen who had started in that direc-
tion felt willing to incur certain death; and
while a portion of the force took to trees, an

commenced reloading their weapons, the others
set of! toward Sim Simpkins and his charge.

The hunter had found no time to reload his

rifle, but had in his belt a pair of unfailing pisv,
tols, on which he depended for aid should a 01‘th

ical moment come. Thus far he had steadily
pursued his way, leading Cora by the hand, and
rapidly pressing in- the direction of her father
and his companions.

Finding that the Indians were likely to cut
him of! before he could make the desired junc—
tion, the ready hunter gave a glance around,
and sung out, to Frank’s 1

“Make fur that bi cottonwood, yonder, quick
as ye kin go! Then grace about!”

hough the command was quickly given, it-

Was perfectly intelli ible. and the three men
hastened to obey. he Pawnee warriors com-
prehended the movement, and endeavored to

‘42-. ‘12:

 

turn it into a 1panic by rushing Wildly after the
white men. ailing in this, the were quickly
brou ht up again when the rec Weapons,
whic they feared, were brought to bear upon
them. Again they took to cover, eying their
bold foes with supreme hatred, yet unable to
punish them for their temerity.

Simpkins had not lost one moment’s time, but
changed his direction at the instant his oon-
federates began to retreat. The result was that
their force was united, and Cora was placed be-
hind a tree just in the rear of her defenders. .

“ When ye see a piece of lnjin flesh bigenough
to hit, blaze away at it, some of ye,” said the
master-spirit, “ but don’t all fire at once. Load
up as fast as ye empty yer guns.” . I

‘ He rammed home his own ball at the time,
and turned his piece to prime. As he did so,
the Indians had generall finished the load-
ing of their weapons. me, however, a trifle
more dilatory than his fellows, was just with:
drawing his ramrod. In doing so he exposed
his head.

Instantly the terrible rifle of Simpkins leaped.
into the air, and its tongue of flame and voice
of lead called for the brave’s life. As he tell, .
another, who was quite near, thinking, perhaps,
to rush upon their foe now that his weapon was
empty, stepped from his tree. As he did so,
Alvin fired, and the savage dropped with a bul-
let through his side. .

“ That’s old Bunker Hill, yew fool yew!” ‘
shouted the elated young marksman.

“ Ye’r’ a good boy; load her up and give ’em
ag’in!” said Sim, as he rammed his own
down.

The boy proceeded to recharge his weapon,
but in doing so exposed his arm. An Indian in-
stantly fired and if Alvin had not fortlmately
pushed his elbow still further out, so as to allow
the ball passage between that and the tree, his
fighting gropensities would have been checked
for that ay.

,“ Oh, fire away, dot rot ye!” he muttered
regarding the shreds of his frock which showed -
Where the ball had passed. “’Ye feel dreflul
’cause ye couldn’t hev the most of yer own my '
don’t ye? But, look out for yerselves, and ll
see few Alvin.”

A little reflection satisfied the hunter that
their present position was t the most dealt. ,
able possible, and after loo ng about him for a
few moments, he spoke to Frank, who was next
to him: j

“ You and Cora,” he said, in tones just above ,
a whisper, “must creep away, and '1: back to ,
that thick clump of trees yonder. e see it, I
s e. 4 '

Frank replied that he did.

“ Then go—and go as keerful as ye kin. The
rest of ye keep yer eyes out for any Injm what
shows his head, and put a ball through it at first
sight. Soon’s you git thar plant yerself, and
Wait for us.”

The last injunction had been given to Frank,
as he was crawling stealthil away. Theygfi '
man reached the side of éora, and into
her of the contemplated movement. They .

proceeded together toward the spot, being as .: ' '-

careful as possible not to attract the W13:
the savages. . , l _

 . ' 1

 

...v.....,.~:..,..,.,e.s..  ... .. . ...... . . ,...

 

 

 

 

13 "

" They Were eminently successful and reached

the covert indicated in safety. No sooner had

they disa peered from the eyes of their anxious

_ friends t an Simpkins began to communicate
his lan to Alvin and his father.

“ 9 must 0 like blazes,” he said, “ when we
start. One 0 ye o kinder zig—zag, purty near
straight there. other one run out tew that
big cottonwood, and then bringu around be—
hind the trees we’re aimin’ at. 1’] take keer o’
myself. Run like the Old Boy, and I’ll resk the
Injuns hittin’ ye, ef they fire. Soon’s ye git
thar take yer rifles, and pick out an Injin; don’t
shoot a shot at random. Then, if they come on,

ve ’em yer pistils, and go intew 1em with the

pits of yer guns. I’ll resk but what we’ll flax
’em out.”

As the word was given they set forth, each
running at the top of his speed. The Indians
saw the movement, and sprung from their con-
cealment to follow, 'not doubting but that their
toes were making a final flight. In this, as in
other matters, they were fatall deceived.

Sim Simpkins, followed close y by his faithful
canine friend, sped over the ground with fear-
m1 strides and gained the covert where Frank
had preceded him, some moments in advance of
histwo confederates. The latter, indeed, were
being hard pressed by their fleeter pursuers,
and it is just possible that one or both of them
mi ht have been overtaken but for the two

ugh reports which burst from the cover as
t eylneared it, and laid two of the nearest pur-
suers upon the ground.

The others paused at this greeting, which
they might have expected, and their momentary

 indecision allowed the father and son to gain a

lace of safety. But the Pawnees waited no
'nger. With a wild yell, firing their pieces at
,, random, the savages charged full upon their re-

“Give ’em yer pistols!” shouted Simpkins,
shooting down an ndian as he attempted to
press between the two trees. at the same time

'vin the word to impatient Pinchers, who
gin in the fray with a will. “The devils
mean fight this time I”

The whites wens well supplied with firearms
for those anti-revolver days. Sim, Frank and
Mr. Leonard each had a pair of pistols, while
Alvin had a single antiquated Weapon, upon
which and Bunker Hill he prided himself, con—
Jointly.

, For a. moment there was a sharp clashing
of weapons, and a rapid firing on both sides.
Indeed, a terrible hand—to-hand fight seemed
unavoidable. Had the Indians pressed the
matter, it is quite probable that the white
men would have found themselves numeri-
cally deficient, notwithstanding the superi-
ority of their arms. But the terrible lesson
they had received, and the fall of more than a
third of their number had taught the Indians
' to be wary, and finding that their foes had
‘decided to flee no further, they resolved to
abandon the contest. No doubt they must
encounter friends in the forest, and with the
old of numbers suificient to utterly crush the
whites, they would avenge all past misfortunes.

Acting .upon this principle, the survivors

gradually withdrew, eaving then-head and

 

Sim Simpkins. Scout.

wounded as they had fallen. At first the whites

could hardly realize their good-fortune. Snap .2

kins, as usual, was the first to speak.

“ Thar they go, confound the cusses l” he ex-
claimed springing from his shelter. “Come on,
one of ye; let’s chase ’em a. little ways.”

Alvin was the first to respond, and sprin 'ng
out at the side of his leader, the twain push on
after the fleeing savages. To and through the
council-camp they speed, and here Simpkins
paused. .I

“ We needn’t go any further, boy,” he said.
“ We can’t overtake ’em, and’ll only waste our
breath for nothin’. Load up your gun, and
here’s some things we any need. ’

After they had rel ed, a hasty surve of
the camp was taken. A large quantity of dz'ied
venison, which some savages had been thouga't-
ful enough to provide, was secured, as were, 0
axes, which had evidently been taken from some
pilla‘gxrred settler‘s dwelling.

“ e’ll take these along,” he said; “ they may
serve us a. cod turn. Seeh things are allus
handy, es s illy when thar’s Injins ’round.”

They se ected such guns as seemed desirable, a
quantity of ammunition, and Simpkms’s knife
which lay beside the still-blazing fire. This
done, they hastened to re 'oin their comrades.

The flirty was in g spirits, over‘o ed and
than ul at the ood-fortune which h rought
them all thus sa ely through such an ordeal.

“ I’m sure we never can thank you enou h—
never hope to repay you sir, for such bene ts,"
said Cora, warm y. “ Every hour increases our
debt of gratitude, and lessens our means of pay-
ment.”

“ I ain’t no more deservin’ than the rest,” re-
turned Simpkins, coolly, as usual. “ I couldn’t
have done anything without them, and maybe
they wouldn’t dew so well if ’twan’t for me and
Pinchers. But, never mind that. We must go
now and see tew yer mother.”

“his, I s’posa the old woman’ll feel a leetle
oneasy, if the Injins don’t come acrost her,” re-
marked her husband. “ It seemed hard tew
leave her alone, but we couldn’t dew any better,
so’t had to be.”

A line of march was at once taken up, and the
party proceeded toward the retreat in the moun-
tains, where they had left the mother. Each of
them felt anxious in her behalf, now that the
terrible ordeal had been passed with them, and
hastened on as fast as possible.

CHAPTER VIII.
rm: MOUNTAIN STRONGEOLD.

THE sweat poured from the brows of the men
and Core. was weak and tired as they ascended
the mountain-side. Now that daylight reveal-
ed the natural roughness of the place, it became
more than ever a wonder to is companions
how their guide had been enabled to conduct
them so readil and easily through the laby-
rinth in the dar m of night. In many places
rocks were iled together in huge masses, while
around and tween them ran ravines and fal-
len trees. And yet the stranger trod them now
with entire ease, and his companions had but to
follow his lead to insure safety.

“ It’s all in bein’ used to the thing,".'he remark-
cd, in reply to some observation of;his compan-

 

 

 

 

 

 

ions. “ Yew 'could tread the streets in a big
city whar I couldn’t walk five minutes an’ not
git lost; but here in the woods I could find the
wa right ahead whar you’d be runniu’ round
an round, makin’ nothin’ out.”

As they approached the place of rendezvous,
more _than one anxious glance was cast in the
direction of rocky fastnesses, fearful lest some
lurking savages might be awaiting their comin .

But finally they drew near the rocky retrea ,
and saw that all continued silent. Ho rose in
their bosoms. There were no traces 0 Indians,
and as Mrs. Leonard had been cautioned to keep
very close till their return, it was hardly prob-
able that she would espy them till the place was
reached.

“Oh, I ho no harm has come to my dear
mother,” sai Cora, as they drew near the spot;

I should think my own safety too dearly pur-
chased, it she were to suffer.”

.As they reached the t, Lumen Leonard, in
his anxiety, for at a caution, and leaping
among the rocks, 2 called out;

" Maria! Maria! Be ye here, anywhere?
We’ve come—we’re all right. Yer al’s safe.”

A pale, frightened figure rose up fore them,
and m terrified accents exclaimed:

_“ Hush, Lumen, for heaven’s sake! The In-
dians are all about us.”

The buoyancy of every heart was checked in
a moment, and with pallid features they gather-
ed close beneath the rocky breastworks, to
learn what had t ired during their absence.
Only Simpkins and his faithful mastiff remain-
ed upon guard, where they could survey the
forest around.

“ What is it about the Indians?” Frank asked,
when the party disposed themselves in a listen-
ing attitude.

‘.I’ll tell lyou all I know; that is, what I have
seen,” rep ed the still tremblin woman.
“ Soon after you left, I raised my h carefully
above the rocks, to see what sort of a place we
were in. It was just light enough so that I
could see, and not fully ayllght. Almost the
first thing that met my eyes was some one
standing upon a rock Just yonder. I saw at
once that it was an Indian and that he seemed
looking for something. I did not wait to see if
there were any more, but settled back very
speedily, and lay there trembling for some time,
not daring to look up, lest I should encounter a
save e.

“ ut time passed on, and I began to think I
might have been mistaken, after all; or, that
the Indian had gone his way. I listened as
closely as I could. and not hearing any move-
ments, I gradually raised my head again. I
looked where I had seen the savage standing
but he was gone. This gave me courage, and I
looked all about, getting almost frightened at
the wildness of the place, but seeing nothing of
any livin thing.

“Then was satisfied that I had im ined all
the evil I had seen, in the form of an In ‘an, and
felt almost disposed to laugh at myself. I even
rose to my feet and looked all round, to satisfy
myself that I had been utterly mistaken. Then
I sat down with a relieved heart, to wait for
your comm

I ’ “Then I sounds, and knew, there could

 

Sim Simpkins. goout. 1‘!

be no mistake about them. There were persons
talking and at first I thought you had come
back. at I listened, for I wanted to be sure.
I knew, very soon, that it Was Indians, for I
could. not understand a word and their in e
sounded so strange. I would have looke out

but I did not dare to. I expected every instant
they would come upon me, and carry me 01! or
kill me. But none of them seemed to come near
me and I began to hope they had gone.

J1 could hear nothing of them, and finall
ventured to peep past the corner of the rock.
was terribly frightened to see them scattered
along all above us, and I really ted they
had seen me, and would come on to In me. But
they did not come, and next I heard your voices,
though I was mistrustful at first that it was the
Indians coming."

“Then ye don‘t know whirl: Way the critters
went?" asked Simpkins, who had been an earnest
listener, although his e e had been actively
searching for any signs 0 Indians the while.

“No, was not even aware that the had
moved, until I looked about and saw tha none
of them were in sight.”

“ I never seen the critters act so funny atom”, ,
remarked the hunter. “ Most naturally ’d think
they would have one on and done what mischief
they could at the u’st start. But here they seem
tew be hangin’ ’round, a hundred or more of ’em
éest tryin' tew ketch us. But I reckin we’ll fool
em yit.”

As the woman seemed earnest and positive in
her statements regarding the Indians, even de— ,
scribing the appearance of the warriors, and/
showing where they sat, a great curiosity was
felt to ascertain what had become of them so
soon. Simpkins, as usual, claimed that for his
e ial duty and privile e.

‘ Here is this dry mea ,” he said unwra ping 7
the bundle. which had been bound with on'fi:
of deerskin, and placin it in their mids “ ’
rather hard chawin’, I now, but it'll serve very
well if ye once 't it swallered. While ye’r'
makin’ out a brea fist 0’ that, and I reckin e‘r’
about hun ry enuff, I’ll go out and see w t’s
seams of t 0 human beasts." ‘

Callinhguthe faithful Pinchers to his side and
givin a small piece of the meat, the scout
set 0 upon his uncertain mission. I

On reaching the point indicated by Mrs.
Leonard as having been occupied by savages;
he fotmd abunth evidence of the presence of a
considerable party, who had but recent] left '
the place. Her story was thus confirmed, and
Sim began to feel more than ever that some
scheme, which he could not comprehend, was
being played by the Pawnees.

“ Consarn ‘em all, I‘ll fetch it out,” he mut.
tered, surveying the ground and casting quick
glances into the forest abou , “or my name
ain’t Sim Simpkins. The onwashed, or’nary
thieves; tow use honest people so! But it s
costin’ ’em about all it comes tew, reckin,
so fur."

He looked at all the indications before 'and
around him, and succeeded in finding two/or
three blind trails. But nothing seemed to give
him any indication of the whereabouts of the
Indians, or their purpose. _ I

“I rayther incline tow think they’ve gone up

 

«a, m»... . an...» 3-... ,. v

. -.‘_.-

 

 

 

:u-“Wv'r

a.“

 

 

 

_ cannot think of

. some way.

13 -- Sim Sillipkinl. Scout.

 

' over the mount‘in " he pursued finding that all

traces led in that direction. “ wonder if they
hev gone for good?”

His doubts and wonder must have vanished
very eedily, for at that moment, his cap of fur
was li ted from his head, and fell in a cleft of
rock beside him. ,,

“ Purty close, I declar’,” he remarked, picking
it up and eying the curl of smoke which rose
from a cluster of bushes abovehim. “ I may as
well call that a finisher."

Instead of raising the cap to his head, he sunk
forward and dropped his rifle. A ell of satis-
faction broke from the conceal marksman,
who left cover and Sprung in the direction of his
victim. .

As he bent over to take the scalp, the red—skin
might have fancied his victim to move. At the
next instant a. pistol cracked, and without a. ell
the warrior passed to the hunting—grounds 0 his
Hereafter.

The wily scout at once commenced a retro-
grade movement from the place, and his pace
was somewhat accelerated when a yell, louo',
loud and fearful burst from bush and roe :
above him. The savages who had been con-
cealed, to the number of a score, broke from
their hiding-places, and rushed toward the
scene.

With a few rapid bounds, Simpkins gained
the shelter of his rude stronghold, and the Paw-
nees followed at no great distance. Such fire-

arms as they had were discharged, but their

terrible enem Seemed to bear a charmed life.

0 ball of the rs injured him, while every report
0 his heavy rifle spoke a death-note to some
brave.

Not till three of their number had fallen
before the deadly rifles of their enemies, did
the Indians pause in their onward career.
Then the sullenly withdrew a short distance,
and set hemselves down to a regular siege of
the lace.

“ hat’s very often the way it works.” re-
marked Sim kins, as he took in the position of
affairs, and uokod his head at the flash of a.
well-aimed gun. “ A man may git out 0’ one
Born. and intew another all day long, and
may 9 fer a week, but, if he’s smart, he’ll
ginerally come out all right. Now and then
one gits knocked over, as poor Billy Larkin did;
but it's an evil day for the red-skins when they
hurt him. It’s cost ’0m a few 0’ their best
fighters a’ready.”

“ What do you think they mean to do?” asked
Frhnk. ' ‘

“ est now I think they mean tew lay off all
day, and when it comes dark slip up and mur-
der us, if they can‘t dew it nfore, without gittiu’
hurt.’

“ And we—what shall we do? Of course we
sing butchered like buffaloes.”
“Not quite. e’ll contrive tew fool ’em
It’s possible they may git tired of
'the fun, or make a. rush and git whipped out
aforecdark. Another thing’s Jest possible; and

:that is, that both bodies, these and them what

we tussled with this momin’, may git tew-
gether, and whip us out. Thar‘sa 00d many
ways it may go; we must wait an see. But

take notice 0’ one thing: if ye see a red-skin’s

k4

 

gate stick up anywhar, dew yer best tew put a
all through it. That kind of sport may satisfy
’em sooner’n anything else.”

“Kin I hit that one, cap’n?” asked Alvin
pointing to a small part of an Indian’s head
which appeared above a rock behind which he
had taken refuge. “I kinder want tew s ’ile
the looks 0’ that feather with old Bunker H' 1.”,

“Yes, blaze away, but be keerful, and the
rest look out that no gun pokes in sight through
bushes or over rock, while ve’r’ shootin’.”

The boy scemod pleased at the favor, and
bringing up his old favorite, took a steady aim.
The gun cracked, and the feather disappeared;
more than which was not to be ascertained.
But inasmuch as nothing further was seen of a
savage in that direction, it is to be presumed
that the stripling’s aim was not in vain. One
or two keeping constant watch for any move-
ment or exposure of their foes, the balance now
devoted themselves to making a meal of the
dried venison which had so opportuner fallen
into their hands. Seeing that in the general ex-
c1tcment of the occasion the women, especially,
were not disposed to eat, the scout cheered them
up in his peculiar way.

“Ye must eat,” he said, “and then slee .
\Ve didn’t rest an last iii ht, and most likely
thar’s another nig to‘ bar ’trampin’ afore us;
that is, if we esca the red-skins, and I reokiu
we’ll dew that. 0 must keep 11 yer courage
and strength, and thar ain’t not in’ better for
that than tow cat hearty. To be shure, that

’ere dry stqu ain’t so nice for fodder as Ihev \

seen, but it’ll dew better’n nothin’. Course, now
you must eat or ye can’t tramp tew-night, an
we’ll hev ter leave ye, arter all. ’

The women attempted to eat, but the food
seemed almost loathsome, and after several vain
efforts, they were forced to desist.

“ Never mind; if ye can’t eat now, slee
awhile on it," urged the calm master-min
“After a little nap ye’ll both feel better, and
then vittles’ll dew ye more real good, maybe.”

Yielding to his solicitations which were
coupled with those of Frank an Mr. Leonard,
the Weary mother and daughter lay downin
the most comfortable 5 t which couldbese-
lected. Although they d no anticipation of
bein able to sleep, it was but a few moments
ere t e lids of both were closed, and they slept
quietly for several hours. '

When they awoke it was near noon, and
they were quite hungry. The dried meat was
again brought into requisition, and this time
they were able to eat a. tolerable quantity.
They were very thirsty, but” as water was quite
out of the question for the presont, they forced
it from their minds.

The savages still maintained their vigils, and
not a shot had been fired upon either side.
Presently the Indians seemed anxious to test the
wakefulness of their adversaries, and used
several expedients for drawing their fire, which
would have been succeSSful but for the experi-
enced counsels of Sim. , I

“ Ye don’t want tew fire till ye see a plump
mark," he said. “One that ye know‘s alive,
and that ye Won‘t miss, There, jest see that
gtreaked red~dxin; he thinks we’re all asleep up

ere.

l.'..q



Sim Simpkins, Scout. ‘ ' . 19'

 

One of the savages had sprung upright upon
the rock behind which he had been crouching
for some time, and made a few contortions of
his body not utterly becoming, even to a Paw-
uce. .

“ Jest leave him to me,” remarked Sim, as Mr.
Leonard would have fired upon the Indian’s
partially exposing himself again. “ I’ll jest fix
his dinner for him, in the best 0’ stylc.”

By this time the Indian had appeared again,
and several others were crawling from their
covers.

“Take yer men—quickl" said the stern hun—
ter, “ and shoot when yo git a sure sight.”

He fired as ho ceased speaking, and his victim
fell, uttering a wild yell. Three other reports
were heard at the same time, and another Paw-
nee bit the dust, while two others evidently did
not escape unscathed, so skillfully were the rifles
of the whites served.

The effect was marked. Instantly a retro
grade movement was instituted among the ln-
dians, and they crept from the spot with com-
mendablo zeal.

CHAPTER IX.

WHAT NIGHT BROUGHT.

“ G001), if they are gone,” remarked Frank,
as the last of them disappeared from sight.
;‘ I began to think they intended keeping us
icre.

“Don’t flatter yerself that there’s any such
good news yet,” said Simpkins, shaking his
head. “They wouldn’t leave in that way if
they karkilated tew go for good. It’s more my
idea that they’re gittin‘ together tow counsel
some deviltry, than anything better.”

This hypothesis was confirmed very soon by
theappearnncc, through the forest, of a distant
fire. To this Sim called the attention of his fol-
lowers, as confirmation of his suppositions.

“Thar it is, ye see, jest what I karkilated.

 

They’re goin’ tew talk tho matter over, and if

they feel hungry it’s very much their style tow
cat. But we’ll come in for a good share of their
meditations. It seems thcy are bound to have
us out of their way, in any case.”

“ \Vhilc they are thinking over matters, why
not take ourselves out of the way?” Frank
asked. “ We could crqu away and they never
would be any the wiser for it.”

“ Notso easy as 'e think. young man. I’ve
fit ag’in’ the reds ins for near or quite thirty
years. I’ve seen ’cm in about all that they’ve
done for that length 07 time, ’cause where the
Injins hev been out on a rampage thnr I was.
Now I’ll tell ye jest what I think. We hnin’t
one chance in a hundred of gittin’ away from
here afore dark! We might dew it ourselves,
but then here‘s the women to see to, and to git
along. I tell ye we’d better make up our minds
to eta. whar We are. for the present.”

“ ay be just as you say,” replied the young
man, though his tones seemed to indicate a
slight amount of distrust. “ I don’t profess to
know much about the woods. Only this I do
know—it’s pretty severe stayingtgooped up here

a > r

'alld

” l
_“ I know all that,” replied the scout. “But
then, It ain’t nigh so tough as ’tis tew hev the

 

ha’r tuk ofl"n one’s head. If you think the red-
skins hev bid us good~day, ye kin jest move out
a ways, and see.”

“What do you mean by that?” demanded
Frank, .9. little sharply, for there had been a
peculiar intonation to the hunter’s voice ashe
spoke the last words.

“I mean if yo think it’s so easy to fool the
Injins, yo’d better try it on yer own book. A
man known nothin’ about sech things till he’s‘
tried ’em.”

PoSSibly Sim Simpkins was getting 2mg;
certainly Frank Sherman was. He. would b e
responded much more sharply. had not Cora
noticed the turn affairs were taking and placed
one hand restrainineg upon his arm.

“ Pshaw, Frank; you must not quarrel with
him!” she said, firmly. “Think where we
should be Were it not for his help.”

“I know that, but-” and Frank turned
away. “I will be civil, for your sake, Cora,”
he added. ,

The stranger scout remained silent for some
minutes, but finally turned toward Mr. Leon—
ard and Frank, saying, in tones devoid of any
emotion;

“ If ye think yo kin dew better to go on, why,
try yer luck. t ain’t for me to say when or ‘
whar ye shall go, or when ye sha’n’t go. If ye
say try it, I’m with yo, if not one of us lives
through it. Or, if someof you can do better nor
I, go ahead. I ain’t craviu’ sech jobs as this,
though I like to see it through when I once he.

rm.
I: “ I’m ‘perfoctl satisfied with What you’ve,
done,” replied 1‘. Leonard, “and I guess all‘
the rest are. I want ye to dew that that
seems right tew yo, and all of us ’11 be satis-
fled.”

Alvin, with his mother and sister quickly fol—
loWed in assuring Sim Sim kins of their approv-
al and Frank Sherman con d do no less than to
qualify his manner.

“ All I said,” he remarked. “was that it was
hard being coopcd up here all day, with next to
nothing to out. and nothing to drink. But, if
there’s no help for it I’m quite as ready as any .
one to stand it.”

Good feeling and oneness of purpose having
been again established, or rather, a decided ru
turc having been prevented, affairs moved on 11
their former channel. No movement upon the
part of the savages could be discovered and to.
the veteran scout himselfit began to seem . 'i-
blc that they had really abandoned their inten-
tions with regard to the whites.

“I’ll soon find out,” Sim said. “Keep yer
eyes, all in that direction, and I will try them a.

1 I

He crept from the retreat, and moved stealth- .
ily away in a direction opposite to the position _
of the savage camp. '

Scarcely had he eft the retreat, when a signal
was communicated from some Indian spy 1m—
seen, and instantly a commotion was discernible
about the distant fire. The scout made a short
circuit and then returned. ,

“ Ye see how the land lays,” he remarked,
sliding into the chasm which served them asa '
fortress. “They had a pesky spy close by, tow
watch all that was goin’ on. I We’d tried tow

 

 
 
 

 
  
 

 

«visible, the single eye of t

20 Sim Sign... Scout:

leave for good we’d 'a‘ found ourselves in a purty
fix, jist arter we’d got away."

The appearance of sundr Indians, gradually
cree in meter, was additional proof of the
trut fu ness of his premises. ,

“Ye see We can’t git away,”he said, with
truthful earnestness, "without being set upon
and dogged by them pesky varmints. It's pos-
sible we might worst them out, and keep up a
runnin’ fight along. But we’d stan’ a great

. chance 0’ more or less on us gittin’ killed, and

lose itall arter the Almighty has helped us so
fur alon .” _

“ Shal we shewt again, eap‘n?” asked
Alvin, who was uneasily fingering the lock of
“Bunker Hill." “ That teller over thar in the
edge 0’ them bushes I could take, like open and
shet.”

“ Blaze away, if ye want tew. lVe’ve plenty
o’ owder and balls, and it is cheaper to keep the
red-skins at a safe distance than ’tis tew drive
'em back ag’in.”

The impulsive youth blazed away, but missed
his man. With a dissatified air he turned to re-
lead his piece.

“ Takes a hand 0’ experience few tek’ ’em
every time," remarked Simpkins. “That teller
was furder off than ye thort fer. See that one
beyond him, off tow the left? He thinks he’s
parflctl safe, and maybe he is, for Sim can’t hit
every is me. But, I'll try him, that I will.”

The tall hunter drew his heavy rifle up to his
face, and took a very deliberate aim at the
Indian, who was distant more than three hun-
dred ards. When he fired the savage was ob-
serve to bound in the air, and disappear with
loud yells. Those of the Indians who had ex-
posed themselves hastily withdrew, and uni-

, verssl quiet again reigned.

“Ye hev tew keep the critters cowed down
and let ’em know ye’r’ on han ,” remarked the
scout, as he ured in the powder for another
charge. “T ey’re always inclined tew git
sassy, if ye let ’em hev their head, the or’nary
beasts!”

Long hours passed away without any fur-
ther incident occurring to mar the dull routine
of watch, converse and sleep. Each of the
party, save the indefatigable Sim, slept for a
short time, though the general anxiety con-
cerning their situation was such as to preclude
all long-continued slumbers.

As the sun sunk low behind the trees, the

, stern hunter urged another hearty repast of

the dried meat, and though the party was
suffering for water, they brought themselves
to eat as much as could be swallowed of
the unpalatable meat. They certainly felt
stronger after it, and better prepared for the
fatiguing duties which might be before them.
As the first faint evening shades began to be

e hunter seemed to

know no rest. Here and there it roamed, not-

. filevery movement of the Indians, who could

be seen in the forest beyond rifle range.
’ “ We must go jest as quick as it’s dusk enufl
so the raskils can't see us," no said. “Ye can
lee that they‘re all wide awake now and com—
ing onastastas they think ’twill dew. They
daren’t git ver near arter the lessons we’ve
l’amt’em,and t’s lucky for us. We must

 

      

. . A

cut right Over the mountain, and try tew find
the highest settlements on t'oihor Side. If we
give the Injins the slip, we shall be all right. If
we don’t happen to dew that, it’s onsart’in about
the end."

Very slowly the twilight seemed to descend,
but it came surely, and as there was no moon
it would soon be quite dark enough for as
practicable adventure; As the shades increased:
it was evident that the Pawnees were approach-
ing. Here and there a dusky figure could be
seenhgliding cautiously nearer.

“ e hev tew salute the internal critters
again,” remarked Simpkins; “ See, there is one
behind that little clum of hazel bushes. Tew
of ye fire at that, and ’11 shoot ofl! whar I seen
a sneak last." -

There were three rifle-reports, almost at the
same moment, and two distinct yells from the
Indians, showing that powder had not been
burned in vain.

“ That’s good,” remarked Sim. “ That’s put
’em back a few, and while they‘re gittin’ more
careful we’ll leave. 01! with yer boots, and
come on.”

“ Shall we not reload?” asked Frank.

“Not now; we won’t stop for that. All we
want is to git away, and make no fuss about it.
We shall have our pistils if we meet an Injins,
but that ain’t what we want to dew. 5!! with
yer other boot, and then we're ready for sar-
vice."

So saying, he led the way very carefully
from the rocky recess, and commenced climb-
ing the mountain above them. It was now so
dusky that objects could only be distinguished
at very short distances, and there was very little
danger of the movements of the party being
overheard, as the men were obliged to pick their
waiy barefooted over the unpleasant ground.

inchers moved with the group, seeming to
feel the importance of his services; and certain-
ly to his keen senses the party trusted more than
to any powers of their own. '

They moved some distance, more than a mile
it seemed to those who were obli ed to walk
with bare feet through the various 0 structions

which they encountered, when their leaderpaus-

ed, and gently whispered:

‘ Ye kin put yer boots on now, if ye’ll walk
‘est the stillest kind. But be awful keerful,
cause there’s no kuowin’ whar the varmints
my be ban in‘ ’round.”

carcely ad they resumed regress when
from beneath them came a yell, ong, loud and
fierce—which echoed and resounded far and
wide. along the mountain-side.

“ Ha! the raskils hev made a strike ” remark-

ed Sim with a silent laugh. “ Hope they won't
blpster and fume any over the skelps they’ll
gi I .
A moment later a second whoop was heard,
different in tone and character from that which
had been given at first. That had been boister-
ous, exultant, savage; this was subdued sullen,
revengeful. It was evident that the ndians
were unprepared to find their prey flown, and
quite disappointed at the result.

No one in the fugitive party spoke, but all
felt that the crisis of: their fate was at hand.
Silently, earnestly they pressed forward, up the

    
  
  
   
 
    
   
   
   
 
   
    
  
 
   
   
  
   
     
  
    
  
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
   
 
 
  
  
   
  
  
   

W1“

' 1

Sim Simpkina, Scout. 2!

 

shag?fl ascent, and in due course of time were
gra ed by standing upon the summit.

Here their leader paused, and those who fol-
lowed were not sorry to do the same, asthe
ascenthadbeen quite fatiguing. It was now
so dark that nothing beyond the immediate
vicinity of the party could be distinguished.
The expanse below and nround appeared a
second chaos. Nothing but vast and impene-
trable darkness seemed over the face of the

earth.

“What (1’ e s‘pose the Injins’ll dew now?”
asked Mr. nard, in a low whisper, as he
found himself near Simpkins.

“A teller can’t tell for sart’in,” was the re-
sponse. “But they will be most likely few try
and foller us."

“ D’ye think they’ll make out our trail?”

“8’ so; why not? They’re used to that
kind 0’ bizniss all their lives, and it‘s only natural
that they should know which way we’ve gone,
prett near."

“ hey’ll overhaul us, arter all, won’t they?”

“I guess not. We’vo got the start, and if
they try to ioller us in the night, even if they
git the trail, it’s purty sart’in they can’t gain
much on us. But we’ve fit ’em once or twice,
and can dew it ag’in if the pinch comes.”

Having regained breath the party setforward,
continuing upon the crest of the mountain for a
short distance, and then commencing the de-
scent. It was slow, fatiguing, vexatious, and
even dangerous work, in the thick blackness
which lay upon the forest. The latter term
could hardly be applied appropriately to the
mountainsui'face. as the principal roductions
in that vicinity were rocks and bus es. Some
distance below-them the trees were of vigorous
growth and toward this point they were tend-
ing. When the forest should be reached, the
traveling would be easier.

 

CHAPTER X.
run sncoan NIGHT.

Tm: party gained the shelter of the trees, and
though the blackness was still more intense,
they proceeded with greater ease, since the un-
dergrowth had ceased and nothing save rocks
and fallen trees obstructed their way.

At length they reached the level ground,
when Simpkins, who was in the advance, panacd
and plucked his companions cautiously by the
arm as they came up. At the same time he
pointed in advance.

B peering through the trees they were able
to istinguish a sin le bright t, far in ad-
vance, which could ave p ed from noth-
ing but a camp-fire.

‘What d’ye s‘pose we’ve got there?" asked
Mr. Leonard. .

“Another nest of red-skins, I karkilate,” was
the cool response. .

“ Then we may jest as well give up all hope,”
remarked the despondin man. “They‘re all
sides of us, and all roun us. I’m almost tired
of htin’ ’em all the while. A feller might as
well killed 01! fu‘st as last.”

“Maybe that’s the way you teal,” remarked
Simpkins, “ but it seems tew me ye orter be a
teeth 9.8me 01 it. Don’t yer keer any thin'

 

about yer wife and children? Now, it never
was my fortin‘ tew hev sech a gal asyou’ve got,
nor a wife either for the matter 0’ that. But if
1 did, you’d see me fight for them if I didn’t
keer any thing about myself! My advice to

ew is when ye git back out 0’ the way 0’ these

njuns, don’t ye never come whar they’ll hey a
chance at ye ag’in.”

“ I won’t, ye needn’t be any afeard of that,”
was the quick reply. “I thought there warn’t
any sech place as the West; nor there ain’t in
civil times. But if this is the way they usea.
teller, I’ll give the injins my house and I ll stay
back in the States.”

“ We are not in a fair we to reach the
States, as yet,” remarked Fran . “ Sometimes
I doubt much if we shall ever get there. The
Indians seem to be out in great force, and it
wouldbe nothing astonishing if they should out-
wit us at last. ”

“ Have patience, my good folks,” said Simp—
kins, pre aring to lead the wa forward again.
“The 1' —skins have got the a vantage in num-
bers, but that’s about all. Long as they’re on
foot, the ’re afeard of us. It’s lucky they hain’t
got any osses, though that wouldn’t help ’ein
much in this part of the country. Still the ’re
afeard on us, and darsn’t close ri ht in ’less ey
think thar’s some advantage on t eir side. We
must get up a little nearer, and then 1’11 go and
see what this new [angle is.”

They moved on, nearly in the direction of the
strange fire for some time, and it needed no in-
'unction to cause the party to roceed silently.

here was a faint possibilityt at the light be-
fore them might proceed from a friendly camp,
though that was hardly probable, from the
very nature of things. I! not, there was but
one other possibility—they were still in the
midst of foes.

Halting his party at the distance of half a
mile from the fire, Simpkins crept forward
alone, in order to dispel all doubts relating to
the matter, the uneasy manner of Pinchels

giving him little doubt but that he should find I

another swarm of savages on the war-path.

He had proceeded a little distance when his
eye encountered a second light, away to the
left. Startled at the discovery, he glanced

uickl about, but saw nothing of any more.

e h proceeded but a few steps further, how-
ever, when another, beariu to the right, a

ed. Somewhat undeci ed how to act, a
paused for a moment, to take in more fully the
situation. .

The three fires which he had, thus far, dis-
covered, were se ted by about equal dis-
tances. The fl. which had been seen was
directly before him, and nearly half a miha
away. The others were Situated, one upon
each hand, about the same distance (mm the
central fire and himself. . . _

This did not look exactly like the disposition
Indians would make of themselves, nor was it
the manner in which the whites would be most
likelyto encamp. Even the sage hunter was
somewhat perplexed.

“I’ll go right ahead, as I started tow,” be
final] muttered. “Most likely it’s Injins,but
I’ll nd out. for sartain. thar's any more,
danger in goin’ this Way than some other, I don’t

1

l

89 Sim Simpkins. Scout. ‘

 

know it, and guess the danger ain’t so much for
me as fer the red—skins, if they molest a feller.”
{ \The latter supposition might appear quite
reasonable in consideration of the fact that
Simpkins carried two rifles, one of which was
sluu across his back, the other being in his
ban 5 for ready use.
He proceeded along quite rapidly till sufficient-
,, l y near the scene for any inca utions movement to
‘ }, attract attention, and then it was that his life-
long schooling began to tell in his favor. He
crept up, getting closer at every moment, but
was unable to determine what he wished most
to ascertain. He found that the light of the
fire was rapidly fading away, and very soon it
would be next to impossible to distinguish white
’from red.
, ' One of the dwellers beside the fire seemed im<
ressed with the same idea, though from a differ-
ent motive. Rising from his recumbent position
in the shadow, he placed a handful of fagots up-
' on the fire, and then relapsed into his former
listless attitude.

But the few moments of his exposure had
been sufficient to convince the peering hunt-
er in re ard to those matters of which he had

' previous y doubted. Stealthin as he had
come did he crawl from the place, musing to
himself:

‘7‘ So it's red-skins, jest as I suspected. Nothin‘
wrong about that, only we shall have tew take
kind of a roundabout way, which ain’t much
tow my likin’.”

Simplrins was proceeding leisurely along. con-
templating and reconSidering the events of the

net four-and-twenty hours. when he was start-

.:-:=r (r

 

  ed by the snap and flash of a gun, scarcely six
 r, f feet in advance of him. Unseen by the scout, a
I, , savage had dogged his footsteps for a short dis-

tance, and then glided in front of him, snapping
“his gun close to the brave hunter’s heart. But

‘ ‘Providence had other work for Sim Simpkins.
The weapon missed fire.

Instantly the startled mun sprung upon his
almost unseen adversary, aiming a heav blow
at him with the un he carried. The ndian,
singularly enoug , changed his piece at the
same moment, and their blows met in the air.
Neither of the combatants were injured, nor

. were their strong weapons shattered by the
stroke.

Dropping his gun at the moment the blow was
given, Simpkins rushed upon the savage, and
"caught him in his arms. The struggle which
.followed was short. The Pawnee dropped his
‘ an and tried to grasp his terrible antagonist;
but finding that he failed in this, allowed him-
self to be thrown to the earth, while he fumbled
vi orously for his knife.

‘ ad he succeeded in producing that weapon
v ' n is quite possible that the white man would
have sutfered: but it stuck in the sheath, and

 

   
   
   

loosen it, Simpkins s more ready weapon pierced
his heart.
‘ “ Thar goes another confounded fool l” mused
the victor, wiping his knife and placing it in the
sheath again. “ As it he expected tew whip out
'Bim Simpkins alone—«a job what no half-dozen
\ ‘ red-Skins ever done yet. Some tender—hearted
‘ ‘ critters say it’s wrong tew kill a man, even tew
. , l

,1 '

 

while he was vainly tugging with one hand to

 

save yer own life, but I never seen it in that
way. When sich raskils as these git abroad, the

sooner they’re planted the better it is, for them .

and everybody else.”

M editating thus, and feeling as unconcerned
as though no human life had lately taken its de—
parture at his bidding, the ranger sought out
his comrades.

They were where the had' been left, waiting
anxiously for him, and esiring to know the suc-
cess of his mission.

“It’s jist what I expected,” he replied, to
their eager questions. “ Thar’s Injins out thar,
but I reckiu most of ’em air goin’ tew sleep, so
we sha‘n’t be nfeard of ’em. Ye see we shall
hev ter make suthin’ of a circle round, so as not
to disturb ’em much, and I reckin the hornets‘ll
keep their nest.”

The arty set forth, taking the roundabout
way in icatcd and pursued by their 'uide. As
much time had been lost, they trave ed fast to
make up for the loss in delays and circuitous
progress. ,-

’l‘hey had gone but a short distance when a
wild distant yell rose through the forest, and
reached their startled ears. One and all, save
the scout, paused in dismay, while one of the
females asked:

“ 1n mercy’s name, what is that?”

“ Nothin’ of any consequence,” returned
Simpkins. “I hed a little squabble with one of
their .‘braves when I was away, and he hed the
misfortune to git the wu’st of it. I reckin they’ve
found his dcfuncted karkass, most likely.”

He‘had not intended to communicate his ad-
venture to them, knowing it must naturally
make them more uneasy. But, as there was no
way to avoid it now, and he did not think the
savages could find his trail, he communicated
the fact to them, in order that they might feel
no unnecessary apprehensions.

“ W e’ve got tew much the start of ’em tew be
tracked out,” he added, “if they try ever so
hard. Course they’ll feel bad, and make suthin
of an adew. But let 7em sweat. While they’re
about that, we’ll be travelin’.”

They proceeded for some time, walking as rap-
idly as the darkness would permit. They were
traveling in a direction at right angles to the
one they wished to pursue but as this was tak-
ing them away from the Indians, they thought
less of extra travel than present danger.

Suddenly Sim stopped short, and even his
usually strong,r heart gave a quicker bound than
usual, as he heard the sharp yel of an Indian
dog behind them. The anima could not be
very far behind, and his yelps. given at short,
regular intervals, served, no doubt, to guide on
a pursuing party of Pawnees.

“ Confound the cusscsl" exclaimed the hun~
ter, and he might have used a stronger expres-
sion in connection; “they’ve got a dorg, and
the cuss is trackin’ on us! Here,” and he turn-
ed, to Frank, who was next him to the right
“out of! square this way, and I’ll go back an
Ifix the dog. Quick, now; there’s no time to be
ostl ‘

They turned in the direction indicated, and
then Sim Simpkins faced about u n his self-
imposed task. Hastening back a ew paces, he
snatched a pistol from his belt, and dashed some

, V
.
l
;

 

 

 

Sim Simpkixn, Scott. 23’

 

fresh powder into the pan. Then crouching low
he awaited the coming of the animal he proposed
to destroy.

Presently the wolf-dog appeared,'his nose close
to the gonad, and following the trail at a brisk
trot? 9 did not seem to esp the crouching
white man until his nose was a most upon him.
Then he stopped, sniffed and growled but offer-
ed no assault to the rson in his th. Not so
the hunter. He realized very wel that no time
was robelost, and leveling his weapon at the
beast’s heart, he fired Of course 1115 shot was
not thrown away, at such close quarters, and
the unfortunate animal dropped struggling to
the earth. ,

Quickly following the report came a chorus of
yells from Indian lungs, and the scout found
that pnrsuers were nearer than he had anticipa-
ted. , He did not reflect how‘ to meet them.
Replacing the discharged pistol in his belt,
he raised the rifle he held in his left hand,
and fired it in the direction of the approaching
Pawnees.

A cry of rage and discharge of weapons fol-
lowed, but Simpkins was not harmed. He
had stepped behind a tree after firing, charg-
ing hlS gun as he did so. A moment later his
second shot rung out, and from the cries which
followed, he fanciedit had not sped in vain.

Judging that this greeting would delay the
Indians a short time, till they could study out
its nature, he turned upon his heel, and sought
his companions. Of course they were greatly
alarmed at the firing, and probably not one of
the party really expected to behold the form of
their brave deliverer again.

But he rejoined them with his usual calmness,
onl whispering as he passed them: ,

‘ e mustn’t lose any time now. I’ve sot ’em
back a trifle, and if we hurry, I reckon ’twill
bother ’em tew find us ag‘in, seein’ they hnin’t
got another dorg tew nose their way for ‘em."

That the check they had received did not
long delay the Indians was soon a parent, as
their footsteps could be heard in the crest, pass-
ing alongr with less than their usual caution. But
they appeared to have lost the trail, and were
uncertain which way to proceed. While they
were in this state of uncertainty it was possible
their intended victims might escape them.

“ Off with yer boots ag’in,” whispered the
scout. “ They don’t know whar tew look for
us and we mustn‘t tell ’em. We’ve got tew go
still or they’ll hev the skin off’n our heads."

Though their feet were still sore and smartin
from their former barefoot tramp, the men di
not hesitate a moment, but taking their boots in
hand followed their leader, while Pinchers was
stationed in the rear to give notice of the ap-
proach of the red-skins.

Very silently the party stole along through
the woods, hearing abundant evidence behind
them that the savages were looking for victims.
But they encountered none of them, and after a
time had the satisfaction to lose all sounds of
anyrpresence save their own party. '

‘ ow, boys ye kin put on yer boots ’m,”
said Sim, “ an we’ll try ’em a pull right a sad.
.We’ve 31 n 'em the slip, jest the neatest it war
ever done, I reckon.”

They dld so. and then the bold ranger sped

. h

 

onward, merely cautioning his companions to

tell him when they could not keep pace with

him. ~
Suddenly he recoiled, and barely prevented

himself from slipping into a creek which ran be-
fore them. It was much broader than they
could leap, and of uncertain depth.

“ Well, well, here‘s a party fix!" he muttered,
castin his eyes as far as possible in the gloom,
up an down the stream. “ I’d forgot all about
this here, though many’s the time I’ve crossed it
myself.”

 

CHAPTER XI.
MORNING DAWNS.

“GOSH, we kin wade that; Who’s afeard?”
demanded Alvin, stepping forward, as though
to plunge into the stream. “Can’t we, mis-
tori n

“ Gu'ess not, quite. Ye’ll find it over yer head,
’spcshilly this time 0‘ year,” was the response.
“ I know all about this place. We shall hev to
find some way to make a bridge, unless these
women can swim.”

“ There’s nobod here that can swim, but
Frank,” returned r. Leonard.

“ Then we’re in a puriy fix.” responded the
guide. “ But it’s no use use cryin’ over a split

late, or a dead b’ar, so we must dew the next

est thing. We must look for a place tew cross, .

and not lose any time about it either. If 1 re~
member right thar‘s an old beaver dam down
below, I’m sure it must be below, whar l’ve
trapped the furry critters more nor one d:y
It’s the wrong way tew go, fer it’s takin’us
right down ahind the Injins; but it can’t be
more nor a couple of miles, and we’ll hey tew take
the risk. If we can- git thar we can cross the
stream eas enuff, and then thar wille a straight
road ah
It’ll be a purty long tramp, but then we kin
dew it easy ‘nufi, if the Pawnees ’1] let us alone
—the mischief-making beasts!”

By this time the party had changed their
course. and were proceeding down-stream. The
creek had manya long meander, and it was
somethin of a difficulty to follow its windings;
but Simp ins was uncertain where the dam was
to be found, as several years had passed since he
last visited the place, and it was necessa to
keep very near the channel, in order that t eir
only bridge might not be missed.

There were thickets and swamps,

almost r
without number, in their way, which the inky

blackness concealed until they were entan led
beyond possibility of avoiding. But the - ad
learned to count toil lightly, and strugg ed on
with hopeful zeal. _‘ ,

At length they reached a portion of and
where the water had been backed up
flowed the banks for some distance. T
paused, and after studying the features of the
place a few moments, said:

“This here’s the place, sure as ye're born,
I’ve been here tew many timester be fooled
easy. Yes, I know this old cottonwood; and
that big stump, jist beside 0’ ye, is one that I
cut down, years ago. It ain‘t mere nor thirty

rods down to the dun). Come on out this way I

, till we git tew the first settlements. -

an oven‘, .
he hunter '

 

 

 

 

 

 

:84 7 Sim Simpkins. Scout.

so’s tew git round the water, and then, good-by,

Mister Injinl”

The party in eneral seemed highly pleased
at their prospec ive seen , but none more so
than the veteran scout. 9 led them through
the forest ‘in the manner of one quite at home,
and presently turned his face again toward the
river.

They had passed the swamp, and as they
trod upon firm, hard ound, none of the party
doubted that they shou d soon esca all danger.
But before the guide had proceed many yards
in the new direction he stopped, and bent for-
ward in a listening attitude.

A quick sniff and growl from the faithful
Pinchers had put him upon guard, since the
canine monitor never gave false alarms.

“ ’Sh-hl” he whispered. stopping his com an-
ions bya movement of his hand. “The org
smells suthin’; we must find out what the mat-
ter is, afore we git intew danger."

Even as he spoke, there came a sharp yelp
from the forest in advance of them, and an In-
dian dog dashed through the woods. The scout
gave an almost imperceptible signal to his dog,
who at once grappled with the Pawnces’ cur
with such vigor as to deprive him of life very
speedily.

A rustling could be heard in the direction
whence the dog had come, and it was evident
that the savages were coming on to see what
had disturbed their sagacious animal. The
whites were much frightened, with the excep-
tion of Simpkins. He was perfectly cool, and
communicated his intentions in low, distinct
whis rs.

“ all back here a little,” he said, “and form
a. line. I Hev yer rifles all ready, and if the In«
jins find us, fire in, and then charge ’em with
a yell. I’ll warrant they won’t wait fer
a second dose. But I don’t think they will
find us. There, stan' whar ye be, and see what
will take place."

ras ing their weapons, the anxious party,
with t e women in the rear, waited the move-
ments of their natural fees. The latter, evi-
dently surprised at the silence of their dog,
came along very cautiously, till one of the
braves discovered the bleeding carcass. They
gave it a hasty examination, and then, wit
every appearance of utter terror, hastened
back into the darkness from which they had
,emer ed.
“ est what I karkilated on " remarked Sim
' kins, with his peculiar, silent laugh. “Thee t—

ters thort that their dorg was t by a painter.

Jest the thing, fer they might as well fall
intew the jaws o‘ a painter as of Pinchers,

Now we’ll try ag'in, and see if we kin find the
dam."

The moved more cautiously than before,
knowmg the dangers which they braved. Their
weapons were in readiness for instant use, and
bold indeed must have been the Indian horde
which dared attack that small but determined
“8“ 0' Whitis' teadil th m1 rt

reepin aongs y, ei epa ysoon

ed thg vicinity cfthc old dam which had

:1 built before white men invaded the haunts

of the cunuin natural architects, or the Indians

had learned supefiority of their toes. The

 

colonyhad long since been exterminate]; and
only the remains of their work existed, to savo
the fugitive party from destruction.

They were almost ready to set foot upon it,
Sim leading the way and feelin out a safe
path, when he uttered a low soun of caution,
and immediately crept back.

“ Down! Down, and lie close,” he whispered.
“Thar is somethin’ ahead, I can’t say what,
but most likely ’tis In‘ins. Hev yer guns
ready in case they find us. ’

Crouching to the earth, they waited in breath-
less suspense for the development. There was
a pale glow of stars and by the uncertain light
they soon descried dark forms, crossing the old
dam, and coming toward them. Now and then
an outline was presented against the sky, leav-
ing no doubt that the strangers were Indians.

One after another crossed and passed on into
the forest till seven had gone, and no more
seemed to be coming. They had not discovered
the whites, nor did they seem to suspicion the
presence of any save their own people.

Thankful for their continued good-fortune,
the adventurers rose to their feet again, and be-
gun the task of crossing the creek.

It was far from being easily accomplished.
The action of water for years had worn away
the movable portion of the dam, and only a
few trees, partially driftwood remained. In the
darkness it wasa matter requiring great skill
and nicety for a person to cross this uncertain
structure without slipping into the water be—
heath.

But even the p)rospect of a severe wetting
was more a reea 1e than that of fallin into
the hands of awnee warriors, and the at§empt
was at once made. Sim Simpkins went first,
leading Mrs. Leonard. who crawled over the
rude supports fearfully; while Frank followed,

rforming asirnilar office for Cora. Lumau

nerd and his son brought ) the rear, keep-
ing their ears open that the ndians did not
come down upon them. Pinchers, too, re-
mained upon the shore till the part had
reached the opposite bank, when he quie y took
to the water and swam across.

After leaving the vicinity of the stream
they found the way quite open, the forest being
free from underbrush, and the ground level.
They met with no further signs of savages,
and after three or four hours’ travel began
to congratulate themselves upon their good-
fortune.

The more timid—naturally the most“ easily
elated, as well as discouragred—began to feel
that all danger was past. his hope, coupled
with the excitement which had been constant
for more than thirty hours, enabled the weary
ones to ‘ urney forward at a rapid pace.
They zed well that life, and more than
mere life, depended upon their own unaided
efforts.

Time passed, and it seemed morning must be
near. Still they journeyedpn, though their
steps had begun to lag, and it seemed that the
women, especiall must soon sinkto the earth,
unable to p further.

“How much further afore we take a rest?”
asked Luman at length, dashing away the
sweat which rolled from his brow, cool as was

 

 

 

A on m. ,_9;n._<- .

 

Sim Simpkinl, Scout.

2‘

 

the night.
house yit.”

“ Houses; Lord bless yc, not We ain‘t more’n
half-way from the creek tew the nearest set-
tlers, if we’ve gone right, and I’m nothin’ sure
about that.”

“The wimmin-folks are gittin’ awful tired,”
pursued the first speaker hesitatingly.

“So I reckon; and so I guess yew air,” was
the response._

“ Ye ain’t fur from right in that.”

“Well, I s’ ,” and the tall scout hesitated
before he ad ed, “ I s’pose ye might as well lay
down and rest what ye kin till daylight. I’m
more used to this kind 0’ work, and ain’t sleepy,
so I’ll stan’ guard. Pinchers and me kin keep
the red-skins away till daylight, I guess.”

Accordingly a suitable place was selected, and
the tired party of adventurers sunk upon the
bare eart . rue, they had no softer couch
than nature afforded, and no covering but the
sky. Still, in a very few moments the whole
party was sleepin soundly.

Sim Simpkins ad taken upon himself the
duties of scout and sentinel. After waiting till
the. entire p slept, he posted Pinchers in
their midst, an then strolled leisurely back, in

“ I s‘pose we ain‘t nowhere near any

the direction whence they had come. Finding
all still in this quarter, the hunter adually
extended his circuit, and moved a ut the

bivouac of his sleeping companions until he
reached a point nearly opposite. Here he
paused, and placing one hand upon a stump,
gazod fixedly at the tree-tops for some time,

thatever might have been the subject of his
thoughts, it seemed to have been dismissed, and
he was upon the point of returning, when a
natural question presented itself. Whence
came the stump upon which his hand rested?
It had been cut but recently; more than that
it had been cut with an ax, and by one well
skilled in the use of that tool.

These circumstances awoke a train of reflec-
tions. They were not in a district frequented
by trappers, and that class of men who would
pause and build temporary habitations. It
was on no ordinary route of travel tothe few
settlements which were scattered beyond that
point. No temporary band of hunters would
out such a tree; whence, then, came its destruc-
tion?

“It’s been a good many years since I’s off
this way," he reflected, “ and it’s a leetle more’n
probable that some cha may hev settled down

ere afore this time. 1’ look a little, and see if
thar’s any prospect 0‘ that.”

The thought had merel struck him with re-
gard to possibility; he ha scarcely supposed it

robable, that any living being bad sett ed thus
ar away in the forest. For a hundred miles
beyond them he knew settlers to be Sparse, and

‘ it certainly seemed more likely that they would

fill up the regions already marked out before
pushin further into the Wilda of the Indian—
roam forest.

Yet as he proceeded, the surprised scout en-
countered fresh stumps, all cut in the same
manner, and showin the act of a single hand.
His first suspicions a most confirmed by the rc—

peated proofs which he encountered, he lookc ‘.'

 

%

earnest) for an traces of a dwelling, or any-
thing w ich shou d relieve his uncertainty.

He was still proceeding carefully, using eye
and ear in the thick gloom which surrounded
everything, when the bark of a dog struck upon
his ear, and startled as well as satisfied him.
Knowing that the animal belon to some
white man, as it had not the Wolfis yelp of an
Indian dog, he beat his steps in that direction.
the sentinel keeping up an incessant uproar all
the while. _

In the excitement of the moment Sun had
scarcely noticed that he was upon the border of
a clearing, in the center of which, faintly re-
vealed by the starlight, he could see the outline
of a small building, evidently the object of his
search. Even now he fancied there was a bustle
within, and presently a sound as of _bars being
moved, reached his ear. Meanwhile the 235
had placed himself full before the tall scout,
seemed inclined to dispute his further progress.

Determined to run a small risk, rather than
stand the danger of a. hasty she?
placed himself behind a stump, an
sun out:

“ illoa, in tharl”

cautiously

There was no reply and after waiting a

mclylment, the concealed hunter repeated the
ca .

“Halloa yerselfl” came back the response.
“Who be ye, and what e arter?”

“ Ever heern 0’ Sim impkins?”

year. Is that you?”

“Me, if I know myself. Is that Sam?"

“ Sam Garvey, as true as ye live I” ‘

The two men advanced to each other. They
had not met in long years, and the‘fireeting
which followed was more than cordi in its
nature. After a hearty haud-shakin , and a
few rapid sentences exchan ed, Sim rokethe
thread of questions, which
have poured forth, by saying:

“ Thar’s three men and a couple 0’ wimmin-.
folks out in the Woods yender, what’s laid down
tew sleep. Been hevin’ a esky time with the
Injins and got all fagg out. Why can’t I
bring z’em intew yer shanty here, whar they’ll
hev suthin’ over their heads?" I

“ Don’t ask me no sich uestion as that, Sim
Simpkins,” returned the ot er. “ Darn my two
e es, if I wouldn’t give up every Inch o’m

s antytew e,if’twarneededl But’tain’tgthars ‘

rewm can for us all, sech as ’tis.”
“Then I’ll hurry on and tell ’em, Sim. We,
kin talk over old times afterward." ‘
“ Bring ’em on. D’ye s’pose

1

V

“Hun l I guess so. Hain’t eat nothin’
but a little ‘Insiin chi ’ fer a day and few
nights“ Shouldnt

grg‘n I .
e de rted well knowmg from the d

tion of rthe mhn he parted with what wouid be
the result of the question and reply.

“ Really. this is a Godsend,’ e mused. re-
tracing his wa through the forest. “ These
poor folks will ev a chance tew git suthin’ of a
rest and suthin’ tew eat. Then they can go on
with all the comfort in the world."

fie found the party sleeping as he had left

i... - I...

Simpkim-

's comrade would \

they’re 'hun- -

won or if they was hun-

“Reckin so; I’ve fit and hunted with him a , "

v I
.

v
i'
5

 

 

 .    

 

uti‘y‘Lh‘Snx: straw: '5

 

28 I Sim Simkans, scout.

 

them, and at once set about awakening them,
saying, in cheery tones, ‘as each pair of eyes
opene :

“ Come on; I’ve found acomfortabler place
than this; one with a ruff tew it I”

The awakened sleepers asked but few ques-
tions, but were soon ready to follow their guide.

As they left the place the first faint beams of
morning light could be seen, illuminating the
far distant horizon. But none the less dark
was the gloom which hung over the forest about

’ them.

 

CHAPTER XII.
OLD FOES.

IT took the party but a few moments to reach
the little cabin, and at the door they were met
gtge owner, with a lighted pine splinter in

n .

“ Come right in,” he said, with hearty good
will, throwing wide the door. “ I hain't a nice
house tew ask ye intew, but it’s better’n a
snooze on the bare ground, tew them what’s
used to hevin’ ruffs over their heads."

They entered, and found themselves in a
simple, tidy apartment, extending the entire
size of the cabin. On one side was a large fire—
Elace, built in the primitive manner. A small

ettle, filled with coffee, was beginning to sim-
mer ova“ the blaze, and a choice lot of bear-
steak was broiling upon the coals.

In a short time the hospitable entertainer had
drawn out a small table,of his own manufacture,
and spread a comfortable repast upon it. There
was smoking hot coffee, savory steaks of bear-
meat, good corn-bread, and a few minor dishes.
The adventurers were surprised, as well as
gratified at this unexpected ood fortune. They

did not require a second bid ing to “set up and

make themselves ‘ tow hum,” but fell to with
an alacrity and gusto which was certainly
flattering to Sam Garvey’s pride as host and
coo . r

/ While they were eating, himself and the one-
eyed hunter were conversing earnestly.

- “Inever should have dreamed of seein’ Sam
Garvey settled down in sich a place as this,” re-
marked Simpkius. “When we used tew tra
and trail it together, I reckoned you'd allus fo -
low that kind 0’ business, till ye went up some
natural way.”

“So I did used tow thin .” was the reply.
“‘ But, I’ve made up my mind differently now.
I got hurt one day in the woods all alone. A
wounded buck sprung at me. I went few jum
one side, but ketched my f t in a root, what
hadn’t seen, and tumbled own. Along comes
the buck, and jest plants his forward feet on
my back. ’Twas lucky I bed a pistil; if I

’ hadn’t I should ha’ gone under in 'est tow min-

.1

' him, but couldn’t dew it.

nits and a quarter. I drawed t e thing out,

and put the muzzle right ag’in’ the critter’s

heart. Jehosa hat! How he went intew the
air when 1 fire 1 Down he come, right atop of
me, and arter kickin’ round a s ll, kinder eased
off and died. I tried tew craw out from under
Ye see the critter
was bu’stin' fat and heavy, and laid right " uare
norms me. Besides, where his hulls had it I

:

 

could feel plain enough that the hide and meat
was off slick fer the bones, an’ I wa’n’t sart’in
but what they was broke, tew. He’d struck me
a half—dozen times, at least, afore I got my pistil
out, and then fell onto me.

“ I couldn’t think of but one way ter git
clear. I reached round, fur as I could, and
managed tew git hold of m knife. ’Twas
sharp, and I had some strengt in my arms, so
I went to work, tryin’ ter cut the deer in few.
‘Twa’n’t nothin’ of a small ’ob, the way I lay
and the way 1’s bruised up. ut every time I
drawed the knife made one less, and finally I
had it all done but onj’intin’ his backbone.

“That warn’t done easy—no, sir] I Worked
and poked and pried and begun tew think I’d hev
tew give up arter all. But by’n by I got the
p’int o’ the knife intew the right place, and she
giv’. Ye may bet I felt as if a load was gone
then! I managed to turn over a little, and
party soon I had the deer in tew piles, one on
each side on me.

“ Wal, thar I was. I tried to git up, but
couldn’t dew it. However, I drawed myself
along, half a rod or so, and found an easy place
to lay. Thar I stretched out, and lay an hour,
afore I knew anything, only that I’d got free.
Finally I begun tew think 0’ gittin’ u , but
found that wa’n‘t no easy job. Still, made
out tew do it, and arter I’d walked about ten
rod I lay down ag’in. I found I wa’n’t goin’
tew git home that way. Then I begun tew
think what I should dew. The rest of my fel-
lers was off three miles, and wouldn’t come to
look for me till next day, if they did then. I found
I’d got wwwait for ’em, an way. If I lived, I
should live; if I died, die must; it could not
be avoided.

“After a while I crawled back tew the carkiss
of the deer, and cut off sech parts as I wanted.
Then I got away, maybe twenty-five rods,
though it took me more’n one hour to do that.
I lay and rested awhile, and then I built up a
fire, and roasted in meat. By this time it was
about night, and eat what I could and lay
down to try and slee .

“ I didn’t dew muc ’ that, but mana tew
git through the nigh , some way. ornin’
come, and in about an hour I begun tew load
and fire my rifle.

“ As I fancied, my comrades had started out
to look for me, and soon found me, by the re-
port of the gun. They carried me back to camp,
and did the best they could for me. But it was
a hard case. For weeks they thought I would
die. But ou see I didn’t.

“ Arter got well I begun tew think I’d fol—
lowed that kind 0’ life long enuff, so I went
back to the fu‘st settlements, and tried tew find
some chances fer doin’ suthin’ else. But nothin’
'est suited me, so I concluded tew come back in

ere, and squat on a piecepcf land and raise
part of my livin’, and hunt for the rest.
did, and last spring I made a strike. I had it
fu’st rate here, though it’s rather lonesome."

“How fur to the next settlement?” asked
Sim kins.

“ en miles, and a plain trail all the wa ."

They conversed for some time longer, an then
Sim expressed his intention of seeking a few
hours' sleep. '

Sol-

1
l
i
i

 

 

   

 

    

 

'/

Sim Simpkins, Scout.

 

'27;

 

"‘ I myther think we’ve fooled the Injins, arter
all,” he said. “ Besides, Pinchers will give ye
warnin’, if thar should be any danger, and ye’ll
wake me up anyway, by noon, so’t we kin’ git
tow the next settlement afore dark.”

Garvey promised that he would awaken the

arty in due time, and then Simpkins threw
himself upon the floor. He slept very soon, and
only the breathing of the exhausted sleeper
could be heard above the gentle sighing of the
forest within.

An hour passed—two—and only now and then
a faint moan from some of the sleepers as they
moved uneasily: always followed by a corres-
ponding sigh from Sam Garvey.

“Poor souls,” he mused pityingly; “ it’s tow
bad fer ’em tew hev sech a hard 11m. ’Tain’t
nothin’ for us rough ones, what is used tew In-
‘ins, tow heva brush with ’em once in a while.

ut jest sech chaps as them, right from civiliza-
tion, and used tew livin’ peaceable lives, an’
goin’ whar they’se a mind teW—it’s tew bad
thgy’ve had sech a time!”

e was proceeding with his mental soliloquy,
when a low growl from the dogs without drew
his attention. He hastened to the opening which
served as a window and looked out. The ani—
mals were crouching low beneath the aperture,
and both had their gaze fixed in the forest.

“ That says Injins," remarked Sam, “ if I
know myself. What can the critters be arbor?”

He called the dogs inside and barred the door.
Before this operation was performed, Sim Simp-
kins had taken the alarm, and was upon his feet
beside his host.

“ Is it Injinsl” he asked, in a whisper.

“ So the dogs say,” rc lied Sam. “I hain’t
seen any of 'em yit, and i ’tis, maybe they’ll go
their own way and not disturb us.”

“ Possibly. But ye needn’t karkilate much on
that, ’cause it's contrary jist now to Pawnee In-
jin nater.”

Garvey stepped to the wall and took down his
piece, which he reprimed, and slipped a pair of
pistols into his belt. Simpkins performed the
same office for himself, and then cautiously took
took 11 the rifles of his companions, and renew—
ed their priming.

By the time this was done, Garvey, who had
been upon the lookout, stepped near to him and
whis red:

” e kin see the red-jackets now, if it‘s any-
thing of n. rarity tew ye.”

Simpkins step to the window and looked
forth. In the go of the forest, distant some
seventy—five yards, could be seen the forms of
half a dozen savages, moving hither and thither,
evidently intent upon making out the character
of the strange bui ding before them.

The one—eyed hunter recognised them at a
glance as Pawnees, and communicated the same
to his companion.

“ Then we’re in for one more brush with the
reds together,” Garvey remarked. “ I’m a’most
glad of'it; ’twill seem like old times.”

“ Here they are, on this side, too,” remarked
Simpkins. “The devils are about ready to be
gin flgbtin’. Perhaps we’d better put ourselves
in shape, and see what we kin dew toward
0 nin‘ the dance, particularly as. we’re t0 be
t e fiddlers.” I '

 

Frank, Mr. Leonard, and Alvin were awak-
ened, and briefly informed of the danger which
threatened them.

The cabin had been pierced with appropriate
loop-holes, upon all sides, so that the Indians
could not approach without subjecting them—
selves to the aim of the whites. The walls of
the building being composed of logs, were quite
bullet—proof, and there seemed but little prospect
of danger to the defenders.

CHAPTER XIII.
THE LAST FIGHT.

IT is contrary to the rules of Indian warfare
to attack a place in broad daylight. Any time
during the night or soon after morning light, is
considered much better, as they will be more
likely to effect a surprise in such cases. But
now the Indians had encountered this strange
building far from tho habitation of other
whites, and they felt almost certain that their
intended victims were there. Feeling that they
had already lost too much time in the fruitlefi
endeavor to destroy this party, they concluded
to make an onset at once, and bre’ak in upon
them if any resistance should be offered. its
there were nearly two-score warriors, they did
not for an instant doubt their ability to over-
power the White men without any material loss
upon their own part. i

Half a dozen braves, who anted to distin-
guish themselves, were allows to go on in ad-
vnncc, and sound the disposition of those they
came to conquer. This was the party Whose
up roach called every man to his post.

he six braves proved faithful if not wise, in
the performance of their mission. Upon gain—
ing the door, which they were suffered to do
unmolested, one or two of them rapped with
the handles of their hatchets, and rattled the
latch which had been effectually fastened.

“ What d’ye want?” demanded Garvey, from
within.

“ Want to come in—want to see who’s here 1”
returned the Indians, in tolerable good English.

“ You can’t come in; there’s nobody in here
wants to see you,” was the response.

The six braves did not Wait to parley. In—
stantly upon receiving answer they commenced
arapid hacking away with their tomahawks,
intending to cut through the door, and murder
or make prisoners those who had defied them.

Upon each side of the door wasaloop-hole
turnin inward. Placing the muzzle of a pistol
throng one of those, Garvey pulled ’the trigger.
There was a loud report, and a yell of In
from one of the Indians, who caught the be. in

his side. _ ‘
Simpkins, also fixed at the assaultmgparty, ,
of them. A moment

but failed to injure an
later the forms of five awnees were seen dash-

ing back to the forest like deer, while the . '

wounded one crawled away slowly. ~

So silently had all the preparations been con—
ducted thus far, that it was not till the first
weapon was discharged that Cora or her mother ’
awoke. Of course they were much frightened
on finding that another contest with the savagw

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. companions.

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9

Sim Sinipkins. Scout.

 

was about taking place, and they wrung their
hands in wild apprehensxon till their fears were
quieted by the men.

There was uiet among the Indians tor some
time after the raves returned from their task,
and the occupants really began to think that
the attack would be delayed until dark, or given
over altogether. But the Indians realized that
they were getting too near the borders to dally
longer than was necessary. Presently a move»
ment was discerned from the opposite direction,
and something like a dozen Indians rushed out,
paused a moment, then sought the nearest cov-
ers and began firing away.

The defenders crewded to that side, anxious
to return the fire, as the Indians were so close
that scarcely a shot could miss. But Sim Simp—
kins had fought Indians too often to be deceived
He merely said:

“Don’t fire a gun. We want ’em all loaded.
This is only tew cover 11 somethin’ else. Keep
a sharp lookout, and ye’l find use fer yer pow—
der some other way. Keep yer guns ready and
see that they don’t play any tricks on yer. ”

As none wished to gainsay the veteran’s word,
they returned again to their positions, and
wanted the appearance of any savage from other
quarters.

Just what the old scoutshad anticipated was
takin place. The Indians haying made a mock
attac , and fired steadily their companions, to
the number of twenty, had produced a lon
pole, quite heavy enough for its purpose, an

were rushing on to destroy the door to the

cabin. Of course the four men stationed at that
side reeted them,with the best of their skill.
Yett 6 Odds were great.

At the first discharge two of the warriors fell.
and by the time the defenders had reloaded
their pieces they were fearfully close. Three
more went down before a close fire, and as
Frank Sherman had an extra gun, he shot down
another very speedily, . There was a momentary
pause, fresh hands were applied to the wooden
ram, and then, amid the fierce cracking of pis-
tols, and the fall of one or two more braves,
came the first shock.

Simpkins had reloaded his rifle, and on seeing
the state of affairs, sprung over to assist his
Quickly pulling awa the bar and
fastenings of the door, he raised t e latch, say-
ing to his confederates:

r ‘Tske the butts 0’ yer guns if ye want tew
see fun i”

They partially comprehended his intention,

and obeyed his bidding. As the rushing tramp

‘ot the savages was heard, and 'ust before their

weapons struck the door, the
wide open.

The savages had intended a furious blow, and
as they met no resistance, the result may be
partially imagined. Searcer one of the Whole
number maintained his equilibrium.

Before they could recover themselves, the

enter swung it

'whitos were upon theml, with vengeful yells, led

on by the two veteran udian-flghters. Depend-
ing solely upon the stocks of their rides, the de-
fenders struck ri ht and left. 80 utterly asfi
tounded were the awnees and so unlooked for;
any such proceeding, that they scarcely attempt-
ed resistance. Those who could avoid the death-

 

dealing blows did so, and fled for the woods
with wild how 5.

The other parties, seeing or susyicioning the
turn afiairs were taking, rushed on to assist
their suffering brothers. They were too late.
After a vain and foolish demonstration, which
cost the life of one of them, they all returned to
the woods, and a signal was given, calling the
scattered members of the band together.

The time was occupied by the white men in
reloading! their nieces, and preparing in general
for furt er fighting. Save one or two very
slight wounds, none of the party had as yet been
disabled.

The battle, the last and bloodiest was ended!

The Indians, such as remained, finding them-
selves utterly unable to cope with the whites
gathered up a few of their most noted dead, an
:‘gfiired, wailing death-chants for those who had

en.

The inmates of the cabin were somewhat sus-
picious that the absence was only temporary.
But during the long hours of the afternoon they
watched in vain for any signs of their return.

Night came on, and the best possible arrange-
ments were made to guard against an attack.
They hardly expected the night to pass without
some disturbance, but when morning light came
all was yet silent. '

After breakfast, the entire party set out for
the next; settlement, Sam Garvey insisting upon
hearing them company, and Sim Simpkins agree-
ing to return and spend a few days with his old
companion.

The journey was made in safety, and at the
village which they reached a company was or-
ganized to resist the rumored advance of the
Indians. They were pleased at Sim’s offer to
guide them in pursuit of the savages, and at
once set out. But the braves seemed satisfied
with what they had failed to do, and the party
found none of them. The bodies of the dead,
which they had abandoned in their haste, were
buried, and the settlers returned to their homes.

It was with moistened eyes that Sim Simpkins
and the party he had saved parted. Thanks and
blessings without number were pressed upon
him, and Frank longed to ask his pardon for the
momentary doubts he had entertained.

Lumen Leonard and his family found an op-
portunity to settle where they were, and did so.
Here they lived, and the last days of the men
were better in some respects than the first.

Frank and Core were married, of course, as
all true lovers should be, and lived happily, re.
lating to their children again and again the
story of their salvation by Sim Simpkins the
ONE-EYED HUNTER.

THE END.

1'
1

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

l Deerhnnur, the my Scout of the Great Noth woo.“
By Oil Coomee.

I Buil’elo Bill, from Boyhood to Manhood. By Col. Prun-
tlu lnmham.

8 Kit. Carton, King of Guidea. By Albert W. Aiken.

4 Gordon Lillie, the Boy-Interpreter of the Pawneu. By
Major. H. B. Stoddard.

5 Bruin Adams, 01d Grlaliy'l Boy Pard. By Colonel
Preniiu lngrnhem.

6 Dendwood Bits]: an alloy. By Edward L. Wheeler.

7 Wild Bill, the Platol Prince. By Colonel Prontlu
Inn-hum.

8 The Prairie Ranch. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr.
9 Rfivlpnl‘ Joe: The Hillary of: “ Borer Boy.” By A.
. oa .

10 Texan Jack. the Multangxing. By Colonel Prontin
nrrnham.

11 Charley Bkylnrk. A Ste of School-(la Scrape: and
College Caparl. By Major . B. Stoddanl
18 Maripoen Mar-n. By Joeevh E. Badger, Jr.
13 Roving Ben. By John J. Mar-hall.
l4 Burin: Steel, King of the Buuh. By J. E. Badger, Jr.
15 W calf-awake George, the Boy Plonaer. By Edward
O

16 The Boy Winn-d. By Bury Ringgold.
17 Peter Pegpergrnu, the Grunhorn from Goth-m. By
Noah Nu .

18 Adrift on the Prairie. and Amateur Hunters
on therBufl'nlo Range. By Oil-Coon)”.

19 The Fortune Hunter; or, Rovln Joe u Mlnar,
Cowboy, Trapper and Hunter. By A. . Port.

’0 Trapper Tom, the Wood Imp. By T. C. Hnrbnngh.

91 Yellow llnlr, the Boy Chieiof the Pawneu. By Col.
Pmntlaa lngrohem.

09 The Snow Trail. By T. C. Harbau‘h.
is 0&9 Gll'lially Adana, an a... Tamer. a, m. but
0'. -

8‘ Woodie and Waters. By Capt. Frederick Whmuar.

25 A Rolllreg Stone 1 incident: in the Career on Sen and
Land oi oi. Prentiu Inmhnm. By Wm. R. lily-tar.

26 Red River Rovers. By C. Dunning Clark.

B7 Plaza andOPlnln or, Wild Adventuroa ol’“Buchun
Sam,” (Me). Sum. . Hnii.) By Col. P. lngrahem.

98 The Sword Prince. The Romantic Life of Col. Mon-
Iwry. By Capt. Frederick Whitinker.

99 Snow-Shoe Torn. By T- C. Harbaugh.

80 Paul de Lacy, tha French Bout Charmer. By C.
Dunning Clerk.

81 Round the Camp Fire. By Jouph B. Badger, Jr.

.9 Whlte Beaver, the Indian Medicine Chief. By Col.
Prontlaa lngrahnm.

88 The Boy Oruonder. By Capt. Fred. Whittaker.

84 The Ohaee of the Great White Stag, and, 03m,
and Canoe. By C. Dunning Clark.

85 old Tar Knuckle and Hi: Boy Chuma. By R. Starbuck.

86 The Dashing Dragoon; or, The Story of Goa. Gum
A. Cutler. By Capt. Fred. Whittaker.

87 Night-lek George. By Col. Prentiu Ingriham.

BS The Boy Exilea of Siberln. By 1'. C. Harblugh.

89 The Young Bear Hunters. By Morria Rocking.

‘0 Bill-fl. Sun, the 14d with a Level Head. By Edward
wmm. 1

41 The Settler’l Son. By Edward S. Ellie.

a Walt Femnn’a em... By C. Dunning Cluk.

a Rifle and Revolver. By Capt. FM. Whliukor.

 

 

44 The Lost Boy Whalers. By T. C. Huhaugh.
45 Broneo Billy, tho Saddle Prince. By Col. ln‘nhun.
46 Dick, the Stowaway. By Charla Mania.

4? The Colorado Boys; or, Life on en Indigo Plant-lion.
By Joaoph E. Badger, Jr.

48 The Pamyus “lantern; or, New York Boys in
Buenol Ayrea. By T. C. Harbangh.

49 The Adventurous Life of N ehraaka Ohnrlie.
By Col. Prentiss Ingrnham.

50 Jack Harry and Tom, the Thru Champion Brothon.
By dam. Fred. Whittaker.

51 The Young Lund-Lnbber. By 0. Donnie. Clerk.
52 The Boy Detectiyee. By T. C. Barb-ugh.

68 Honest llarr ; or The Country Boy Adrih in the
City. By Char ea M’orria.

54 California Joe, the Mysterious Plainunln. By Col.
Prentiu lngrahem.

55 Tip Treml. the Floater. By Edward Wllluti.

50 The Snow fluntera; or, Which: the Wooda. By
Barry do Forreit.

5’! Harry flowers, the Sailor Boy Magma. By B. W.
Pearce.

68 The Adventurous Life of Cart-in leek, flu
Border Boy. By Col. Prantiu lhgrn un.

59 Lane Tim, the Mule Boy of the Mirna. Bkalurlu
Merrie.

60 The Young Trail Hunten; or, New York Boyl in
Grizzly Land. By T. C. Huhnugh.

01 The Tiger Hunter or, The Colon-lo Boy- !» Bio.
phant ml. By Julep E.Badger,Jr.

63 Doctor Carver, the “Evil Spirit ” oi‘ the Pidnl. By
Col. Pronliu lngrahnm.

68 Black Horse Bill, the Bandit Wrecker. ByRogvr
Stnrhuck.

64 Young Dick Talbot; or A Boy- Bongh and Tumbla I
Fight. from New York to daillornie. By A. W. Aiken.

65 The Boy Pilot; or, The laland Wrocku. By Col.
Prentiu lngreham. ' .

66 The Deaert Rove or Siowawa Dick Am ih
Aruba. By Charla orrl’n. y 0" .

67 Texas Charlie, the Boy Ranger. By Col. Premi-
lugrehnm.

68 Little Rifle; or, The You: For Hum By Cupid's
“ Bruin ” Aduma.

69 TheY un Nihilist 0 AT: k Bo Anon;
Ruuinlil. By Cherie: Blur: I. ’ n a y a.

70 Pony the Cowboy or, The Young Marehall’l Bald.
By injor H. B. Sto ard, Ix—Soout.

71 Ring! Roheart and His Bear. By Caykin “ Bruin "
um.

72 The Ice Elephant. By Capt. Fred-rick Whittaker.

78 The Young Moose-Hunters. By William H.
Manning.

1’4 The Boy Coral-Fishers. By Rog" Burbank.

75 Revolver Billy, the Boy Bangor of Tone. ByCol.
Prentlae Ingreham.

76 The Condor Killerl. By '1‘. C. Hnrhmgh.

Y7 Lud Lionheele, the You; 'l'inr right-r. Bylaw
Sinrhnck.

1’8 Flnthoat. Fred. By Edward Will.“

79 Boone, the Hunt-r. By Captain F. Whitaker.

Beadle’e Boy’s Library in lor ule by oil Numb-kn.
five cent: per copy, or uni by mail on receipt ofaix anh “a.

nwm AND name, Fulfil-hora,
98 William Street, New York

 

 

,.

 

 

 

 

    

 

:i

..‘.~.'..:.. In:- -

memmnwwmn.mmw » mm y -~.. .

 

 

 

 

80 Kentucky “on, the Long Rifle o! the Cute.“ en. By
Roger Sturbuck.

81 The Kit Curio. Club. By T. C. Hnrhnngh.

89 Little liuek. the Boy Guide By Bnrry ltinggnld.

88 Pony "oh, the Recklela Rider By Col. 1’. lngrnlmrn.

84 Cuptnln Fly-by-nght. 15v Joseph llmlgvr, Jr.

85 Unptnln Ralph, the Young Explorer. ' C. D, (Ilnrh.

86 Little 1 In Hot-kn. lly Harris Red ing.

87 The Menu crle Hunters. By Mug. H. Grenrllle.

88 The Buy ' run-pa; or,Life Among he Gipulel. 15v
J. M. l oililinlu. '

89 ’Longnhore Llje. By C. T). Clark.

90 Having Illllcdiuster'x Little Scout. By T.C. Hmhnngh.

91 "region Josh, tlw W .. I Rifle. By Roger Stnrhuck.

92 llurrlenne 'Klt. By A. F. Hnlt.

  

 

 

, 98 Jnmplng Jake, tho Colorudo Circus Boy. lly Brynnt

lsnmbrulgn.
94 Sum Sperm t, thu Brnndlmrn Boy. By Ed. Wine”,
95 Moscow to h l crlll; or, A Ynukea Boy to the Rescue.
lly Churluu Morris.
96 Flnhlln ' Fred By’l‘ C linrbnnzh.
97 Orulne o the Flynwuy. Bv C. Dunniru.r (‘lnrln

   

.98 The Boy Vllrllunteu. 13v Mn). H. I}. Stoddard.

99 The White Timers. By Ca 2 Charles Howard.

100 The Pillow-Shoo 'l‘rnll y St George Rnthhonu

101 Mnrlnno, the ()ttnwn Girl By Edward S. Ellis,

102 The Flynwny Allont. By C. Dunning Clnrk.

103 l’nt. Mulloncy‘l Adventures: or, Silver 'l‘ongue
the Dncntnh Queen ByC L. Edwards.

104 The Boy Proa- eetor. By Roger Sturhurk.

105 HInoneo, the nod Witrh. By Edwin Emerson.

106 The ltoy Cru nor». lly Edwnnl VVillMt.

107 The “order I overs. Bv J. lillltnn lloll'nmu.

108 Alnakn. tho WolLanen. Bv Capt. llownrd Lincnlu.

109 Chrlll‘tlnn Jlln, the White Mnn’a Friend. lly [Cilwnnl

 

.. lm.

110 l’luvky Joe, the Bay Avenger: or, Dick Belniont’u
Lnat Ride. By J. Milton Holl‘nmn.

111 The Border Gunlnnkcr. By Jnmnu L. Bowen.

112 Imfit-llunded Pete, the DuuhluAKnlfe. By Jusuph

. tndgn-r. . r.

113 The River Illllou. By Capt. J. F. F. Avlfllllfi.

114 Alone on lllu l’lnlnn. B - Edwnrd “‘illett.

115 Silver Ilorn, nnd Hi: Rile Fircdunth. By Roger
Shfllilll‘k.

116 Exploltn oi'llezeklnh Smlth, the Backwnodyumu.
liv Elm-mun Itndmuu.

117 The Young Mllntnngern. By C. Dunning Clnrk.

118 0M Truman; nr, tlm llov llivnls. By Barry Ringgnld.

119 Center Shot. um whil... mow. Bv 'r. C. llnrlmuzh.

120 A "My Trnll; or, Clurk CloverlyAnwnu the 'l'nrlnru.
By Churlu-a Momin.

121 llunter I'm-d lion. By Roger Stnrlmck.

122 The Enqulmnux’ Queen. By G. Wnldo Browne.

128 Tim, the Hay Acruhnt; Ur, Life in the Civclm King. M
(lllnrlua Murrik. '

124 (fillet-n “mule. tlm BnrdurGirl. By Henry J.Tlmmus.

125 ’ ’l‘nlmr, the Buy Fugitive. By Barry Ringuold.

13“ M Cont, the Drain-Shot. By Jul. Ii. Bridger, Jr.

127 Tlu. Deer "In-torn. By John J. .lnrnlmll.

128 \anf.(‘-upx or, 'l‘lh- Nighbllnwhnol’ the Fire-Lnnds.
By (:upt, i'llul. lluwnnl.

129 §£ln01lfll|fl or, The Mountain lluruine. ByErlwnrd

'i «1. '

  

130 Rectum}. (2n: en 0‘ the l’lnins. By Percy B. St. John.
131 \Vlfltnh, the (‘hild Spy. By George Gleason.
182 The lhlnnd ’l‘rnpper. By Charles linwnrd.

133 The Fort-It Specter; or, The Young Hunter’s Foe,
By Edwnrd Willull.

184 Wild Nnt. the ‘l'rnnpcr. By Wm. R. Eyster.

136 The Silver Bugle; or, The Indian Mnldon of St,
(lex. lly Hunt. (Yul. llnzollun.

186 The l’rulrle Trapper. By C. Dunning Clurk.

18’? The Antelope “0y. By Gun. 1.. Aiken.

1:28 Long shot; (wh'l‘llu Dwnrquidn. cyanntx‘umsumk.

139 Colonel Crockett, the 13;.“ King. By (nun... 1c.
Luunl a.

140 on Pop, tho Mountuincer. ByLewis w. Cnrsnn.

141 The Giant Hunter. Byflurry annnl.

 

142 Black Panther. the llnlf.Blood. By J. E. Badger.

143 Clinton the Guide‘ or l‘eriln oflhe Fr ti . B
J. H. Rziudulph. ' ' 0" 2' yum"

144 Kent, the Hunger. By Edward S. Ellis.

145 Bill Robbinu, Hunter. By Edwnrd Willett.

1-16 The Half-Breed Rival. By Jon. E. Badger, Jr.

14’? The Munked Avenger. By Col. Prentiss lnuralmm.

148 $331319 lrnppur mid lndhul Fighter. By I’qu J.

149 The. Elk Demon: onThe Giant Bruthern. By T
c. llurhuugh. '

150 The Boy Muntul -‘llunler o. E
Beautiful Autumn. llfi'rudurick Viz/hltltnkeil'lflnne’ “w

151 Frank Ynten, tha Young Trn - M
Kutu’n Warning. By Joseph E. 1321521333., ounu‘l"

152 “'lld Raven, the Scout.; By 01) Coomes.

153 Lynx-Cup; or, Four Tmfiuen’ Among the Sioux. By
Fun] Bibhs.

154 The Chnmrlon Texan Rider; or, Red Butrnlo,
and the Herc“ en Hunter. By Hurry St. George.

155 Dusky Dick’s Doom. By J05. E. Bndgar, Jr.

156 Frank Bell, the Boy Spy. By Oll Cumnes.

157 Nick Doyle, the Gulxl llunln-r. By 1’. H. Myer-g,

158 K ldnnpped lllok; or, The Fute of the Fire Fly. By
J. blank-y llcmlumnn. a

159 Finn’s Long Trnll; or, The Twin Scmlts. By “L J.
Hamilton.

160 Hunk Trl let?! Vow. By linrryl‘lnznrd.
16!. The Mad inner. ByR. Suirhuck‘.

1423 The Trapper King. By Mnj. Max Martina.
1458 Simon Kenton, Ilnntnr. By Enmraon Rodmnn.

161 The Boy Chief; or, annk Bell’s Compnci. By Oll
Cuumcs.

165 The Trader Traitor. By J. Stunley Henderson.
166 "la ane’n Cit-w. By Mrs. Orrin lumen

16'? The Young Trailer. By W. J. Hamilton.

163 The Specter Spy. lly hlnj. lA‘win 1". Cum“,

169 Lnnk Lute, the Old Culnmdo llunter. By E. W.
Archer.

1170 The “'him “'olf. By Edward Willutt.

1’21 The Swamp Guide. By W. N. McNeil.

1 T2 The Yankee Paddler. By C. Dunning Cllrk,

173  IScout mu! lllu Youm.r Uhum. By Wnrrun
. um. I.

1 74 Blacksmith Tom’n Monk. By Geo. D. Gilbert.

175 The Bucknkln Rlder. By Guy Greenwood.

176 The nutter‘n Rurprlue. By Mr». 11. J. Thomas.

177 Four Fellow Soon“. By J. Stanley Henderson.

17% 111M iKit "ml "in Comrades. By Jon. E. Badger, Jr.
mu y l I

 

unhvr In.
179 l e Grill’n Disgulxc. By Hurry llnzurd.
September 17.
1 80 The Marla-(l Miner. By Liont. Col. Hazeltlnc.
“my Srytclnbvr 24.
181 The “'lld ll utrenu. By Capt. Bruln Adnmu.
llcmly Uctuhur .
1 32 The DWMrf’Dw-oy. By Marc: 0. Rolfe.
Randy Ocln‘wr S.
133 Job lk-nn’u Tnvtivfi. n)’ “Mommy NOT”!-
Ruudy Octubvr l5.
Bundle’s Boy’s Library hi for smlu by all Nawudenlen,
flvo cents per copy, or sent by mnil on receipt olalx can“ each.
BEADLE AN 1) ADAMS, I’nbllhhern,
98 “'llllnm Street, New York.

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

fir”.

«tre-‘w

.......§ 1

 

 

 

 

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..

 

 

floouvo nons.’ 961KB LE,S\ PRICE, rm: GENT8.\

POCKET LIBRARY.

 

 

1 Deadwood Dick, the Prince of the Read. By
Edward l... W healer. .
8 Kan-us King; or, The Red Right Henri. By
Bufl'nlo Bill.
8 The Flying Yankee! or, The Ocean Cutout. By
Col. Prentiu Ingrnhnm.
4 The Double Daggers. By Edward L. Wheeler.
5 The Two Detectivel' or. The Fortune: of a
Bowery Girl. Bv Albert W. Aiken.
8 The Prairie Pilot; or, The Ph-ntom Spy. By
Buffalo Bill.
7 The Buffalo Demon: or, The Border Vulturee.
By Edward L. Wheeler. V
8 Auteio e Abe, the Boy Guide. By Oil Coomet.
3 Ned \ vidc. the Boy Scout. By “Teer Jack"
(J. B. Omohunrlro).
1-0 Buffalo “on, Prince of thePlItoi. By E. L.Wheeler.
1 Ralph Roy. the Buy Buccaneer. By Col. In'grnhnm.
12 Nick 0‘ the Night; or, The Boy Spy 01’18. By T.
C. Harbhnizh. ,
18 Yellownmne Jnek ' or, Treppen of the Enchanted
Ground. By Joseph é. Hedger, Jr.
14 Wild lvnn, the Boy Claude Dnvnl. By E. L.Wheeler.
15 Diamond Dirk; nr,The Myltery of the Yellow—
stone. By Cnlonel Prentlu lugmhnm.
16 Keen-Knife, Prince of the Prniriet. By Oil Commas.
17 01's on 1301; or, Nick Whiiilel‘l Boy Spy. By Capt.
J.  C. Admin.
18 Death-Face, the Detective. By E. L. Wheeler.
Lnuo Jack the Ye-unl Muttnnger. B 011 Coomet.
20 Roaring fralph Roekwood, t 0 Rookie“
'unzer.‘ By llnrry St. George.
ii The Boy Clown; or. The Queen of the Arena. By
Funk 5. Finn.
82 The Phantom Miner? or, Deadwood Diek’t
"onnnm. By Edwrml L. V healer.
23 he Sen-Cut; or, The Witch of Dnrien. By Capt.
Frederick Whittaker.
24 The Dumb Spy. By Oil Conmol.
95 Bottling Rube or The Night Hnwh of Ken-
tucky. liy Harry .‘t. eorge.
26 owhlkynlnnche, the Grant Annihilator. By Ed.L.
ee er.
2‘? Gli‘n-n-Eye, the Greet Shot of the Weet. By Capt, J.
. . damn. .
98 The Boy Curtain; or, The Plrnte’l Daughter. .By
no ninierliwii’c ' n. p h an. a e i
e or". eon reulr. ntan
Frederick Whfitnhor. y W y P
80 Bob Woolf, the Border Rodin. By E. L. Wheeler.
81 Nightingale Nat; or, The Forest Unpleim. By
T. C. Hnrhmuzh. I
82 Black John, the Rand Agent. B J. E. Bed er. Jr.
83 (lmuhn Oil, the Mulivd Terror. y E. L. eel".
Burt Bunker. the Tm’FEer. By George E. Lnnnlle.
35 The Iloy Rifles; or, a Underground Camp. By
A. . ronl.
so The “'hite 1: euro. K The 0152...... m...
turee in the Northwest. By George ll. Lnenllo.
87 Java “lluduoe, Jr., the Boy Plienlx. By Edwerd L.
hon er.
38 Ned “nzel,the Boy Trapper. By Cept. J. F.C. Adams.
89 Dead] Ey the Unknown Scout. By Buffalo Bill.
40 Nick Wlslfiel’n Pet; or, In the Vulley of Denth.
C

By opt. .F.C.Adrmu.
41 Deadwood
Flood

pl

pt
5

 

a
k

lllok’e Eagles; or. The Par-d: of
Bar. By Edwnrd L. Wheeler.
49 The Border King; or.’i’he Secret Foe. By on

Coomu.
48 old Hickory; or,Pnndy Eilis’r Scalp. By Hurry

St. George.

44 The White Indian; or, The Swot- of the Yellow
ttone. By Cu vt. J. F. C. Adnme.

45 Buckhorn fill]; or, The Red Rifle Team. By
Edward L. Wheeler.

46 The fihndow Shine or, The Riv-l Lientennte.
By Col. Prentien lnzrnham.

47 The Red Brothmhoodl or, Th.
Avenue". By W. J. milton.

48 Dandy Jack; or The Outinw althe Oregon Tni].

. . when: . V

49 Jilin-Henna Bill; or, Mum: Sun end Hie“ Ferd."
By laugh E. Badger, Jr.

50 Single loud; or. A Lite hr I Lin. By W. .1.
Hamilton.

Twelve

 

Innawmmma:mmmwmwoefinhravamtemmmwmmcnawmmmwwumbmuuwaw

51 Potentvlenther Jock or. Old Rettlelnnke, th-
Chnrrner. By l’hili S. 'nrne.
52 The Border Rob n Hood; or.The Pnirie Rover.
aBy Butl'nlo Bill.
0

58 dRifle the Shnr Ihooter' or TheBo De
of [he mm? Hill . n; Edwar’d L: Wheele’r. um"

54 Old Zip’n Cub n; or, A Greenhorn in the Woodn.
By Capt. J. F. C. Adams.

55 Dglnwnro Dick, the Young Ranger Spy. By Oil

DOHISI. I

56 Mad Toln “'eeicrn, the Tenn Ranger. By W.

J. llnmiltnn.

Q

51 Deadwood Dir-k on Deck; 0?. Cnilmlt)‘ JIM-
the Heroine of Whoup<U . By E. L. Wheeler.
58 "‘You
11 «comes. .
’l‘gre T50 Duelist: or, The Cruise a! the Sea Wolf.
y
Q0 Abe Colt, the Crow-Killer.
()1 Corduroy Charlie, the Boy Bravo. By Edward L.
e
62 “'ill Same”, the Bny Detective.
"3 Sol Gin (-r, the Ginnt Trauma. By A. W. Aik
Gulch. By Edwnrrl L. W eeler.
85 Lizhtnhr Joe, the Terror of the Prairie. By CAP-
68 Kit llnrci’oot. the Wood-Hawk. By T. C. Her-
hnngh.
Horn. By 01 Coomee.
68
Edwer L. Wheeler.
69 Deteqtive Dick; =r,'i"he Hero in Rage. By Cherie:

llgwkeye flurry, the ng Trnpper Ranger. By
59
Cal. rentiulngrnhum.
Bv Albert W. Aiken.
filtfl’.
By Chat. Morris.
en.
64 llosebu Rob; or, Nugfut Ned, the Knight of the
l
tnin J. F. . Adunu.
6 Rollo, the Bo Ranger; or, The Heiress of the Golden
Idyl, the Girl Miner; or’, Boxebud Rob on HAM. By
arm.

:0 Sure Shot Seth. the Boy Riflemnn. By Oil Coomen.

- l Shnr Sum: or. The Adventurer oinFriendieu Boy.
By . Alexnndvr Patten.

72 The Lion oi'tlle Sun; or, The Veiled Lndy oiSLn
'I'rogrez. By Alhurt W. Aiken.

'38 Pin) ograph l’hll,ilreBn_\ Sleuth; or, Rmebnd Rob'-
chppenrnnce. By E. L. “'hecler.

74 Plan 'Imc Pete t or, Nicodelum, the Dog Detective.
Br Charla Morr I.

75 Inland Jim; or, The Pet oithe anily. By Bruce-
brldge Humyng (Jnrk Hnrhnwny).

76 “hutch-Eye, Ihr Shndow; or, Arabs Ind Angel: of n
Great City. B ' Edwnrd L. Wheeler.

77 Dllck I‘Deod ye. the Boy Smuggler. By Col. P

ngru mm.

78 Deadwood Dick’s Device: or, The Sign of the
Double Cm". liy Ed. L. “'heeler.

79 The Blot-k Muetnnger; or. The Wild Hone
Hunters. lly Capt. Mayne Reid.

80 0111 Front, ', the Guide; or, Mama. the White Queen
oftho lilac leet. By T. C. Hrrrhnugh.

81 The Fen Viper; or.The Midthipmen’l Legacy. By
Col. Premise lnurnhnm.

BB Set? Jonen; or, The Captive. of the Frontier. By
E« ward S. Ellis.

88 Cmmdn Chet, the Counterfeiter Chief. By Edwue
L. “'heeler .

84 The Dumb Page; or. The Doge‘l Daughter. By
Cnpt. Frederick Wlnttnker.

8-5 The Boy Miners; or, The Enchmted Itinnd. By
Eiiwunl S. Ellie.

86 Jar-k llnrkuwny in New York. By Brea—
bridge llemyng.

81 The llnsnar Captain: or, The Hermit of Hell
Gate. By Col. i’rentiu lngrnham. '

88 Deadwood Dickin Leudvilleé‘ or, A Stung:
Stroke for Liberty. By Edward L. 'heeler.

89 Bill Ridden, Trapper; or, Life in tin Northwest.
By Edwenl 5. Ellis.

90 Tlnny. the Tex-m; or,'l'ho Young Chempion. By

George Gleason. _
Issued Every Wedneedny.

Bendie’e Pocket: Library In tor sale by all New...
deniere, five ante per wpy, or lent by mail on receipt 0! hi;
centt mh. ‘

BEADLE «It ADAMS, Pu.me
DB Winn- Street, New York.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

/ 32 o'crAvo nuns.

. /BEADLE’S\im__LEm
' POCKET LIBRARY,

 

 

«ammmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmam

91 Mustang Sam, the King of the Plalm. By JOE. E.
Badger, r.

92 The Ocean Bloodhound or. The Red Pirate: of

. the Umlhbeel. By Smniml \ . urea.

93 Phll llnrdy, the Buns Boy. By Churlns Mon-ls.

94 Deadwood Dick as Detective. By E. LNVheeiar.

95 Buck Buckrmncz XIX Bull. tha Falxlalu Tmppbl‘.
. n

Ely Cnptnln J. F. Inn.
93 GI t-Ellged Dick, the Sport Detective. By E. L.
.

W euler.
9? Tll'wBBlnck Steed of the Prairies. By Jnmu

. owun.

98 The Ben Serpent; or. The Boy Roblnnun Cruxoe.
By Jnun Lewis.

99 Bonanza Bill, the Man Tracker. By E. L. Wheeler.

100 Nat Turk]: or, The Fate of the Sioux Cuptive. By
Edward S. E In.

101 Daring Davy; the Young Benr Killer. By Hurry

St. George.
103 The 1 allow Chief. By Capt. Mayne Reid.
103 Chip, the Girl Sport. By Edwurd L. Whueler.
104 The Black Schowner. By Roger Sturhuck.
105 llnndnonno llarry, the Baotbluck Detactlve. By
Charles Morris.
106 leht-llawk Kit; or, the Daughter of the Ranch.
By Jon. E. Bung", Jr.
10’? Jack llodyle’n Lead: or, The Young Specuintor.
By EllIVfll‘ 1.. Wheeler.
108 Rock Mountain Kit. By T. C. Harbauzh.
109 The rnndcd “and; or, Inn Man of Mystery.
BylFrnuk Dumnnt. .-
110 T 9 Bread Rider; or, The Texnn Duelist. By
George W. Browne.
111 Bong Bob. ihu Kin: nil’ioothlnckl. By E. L.Wheeier.
112 The Helpless “and. By Capt. Mayne Reid.
113 Sear~Face Snnl theSllent Huntur. By Oil Coomen.
114 Piney Paul, I u Mount-fir. Boy; or. The Little
Am’rw of the Adlrnurluckn. By '1‘. U. Hurbuuzh.
115 Deadwood Dick’s Double. B, E. L. Wheeler.
116 Jahoz Collin. Ski per; or, Lost int a Polar Regions.
.' By Cltpt. F. Whittn or.
11’? Fancy Frank, of Culorado. By Hon. W. F. Cody.
“ BillfillQfilll.”
118 Will \Vlldflre, the Thoroughbred. By Chan, Mnrrin.
119 “l0th Blll Dendwood Dick's Home Base.
By Edward L. healer.
180 Gopher Gill, the Boy Trnp er. By '1‘. c. llarhnuzh,
181 Harry Annutrong the upmin oithe Club. By
‘ Brncahrldge Hem "K, (.lnck Hurhnwny.) 
193 The Hunted lunter. By Fflwurd S. Ellls.
123 30111] Sum, the Bu ' Rond-Azent. By E. L. Wheeler.
124 ndgn rLyneh. In: or. The Boy Vigilante. By
T. C. Harhnugh.
INS The Land Pirates. By Punt. Mnym Raid.
136 Blue Bluzen; or,’l‘he Brenk «3’ Day Boy: of Bucky
r.

13V Frank Duinuut.
"' Fox the Ferret; or, Boss Bub'a Boss Job. By
Edwnnl L. Whanler.
128 Black Buss, Will Wildfire’s Racer. Bv Q. Morris.
129 Eagle Kit, the Boy Demon. In. 0116mm“.
130 Gold Trigger, the sum. By T. C. llurhnuuh.
181 A Game of Gold; or, Deadwood Dick‘s Big
Shiko. By Edwnrd L. Wheeler.
133 Dnlnt Lance, the Boy S mrt. ByJ. E. Bridger, Jr.
188 Wild-fire. the Born Olllle and. RV Frnuk Dnmoui.
184 Mike Merr the Harbor Puncenoy. By (2. Murris.
185 Deadwood i'ek of Dcudwood. By Eanrd
L. Wheeler. .
135 Old Rube, thaHuntur. By Cn'Ft. Hmnllwn Holmes.
‘3’? Dandy Rock, the Man from um. By G. Waldo
r Browne.
138 30‘) Rot-ken. the Boy Dodger. By 'Qhul. Murril.
189 The Blue Giant; or, Dniniy Luna: in Jeopardy.
By Jone h . Bridger, Jr.
I40 Ungtnfn Arizona, the King Pin of anl~AgentI.
By ’hill S. Wnrne. ' » ‘
I41 New Ypork Nell, the Boyfilrl Detective. By
Edward L. Wheeler.
[42 Little Text! the YoungMunlnnger.  OllCounen.
sadly I)“ 3 or,Fightiug Fire Wltl’l l‘m}. By
Jon. E. Badger, Jr.
144 Little (hit, the Wild Rider; or, Beule, thaStoclr
Tondor’l Daughter. By Col. Prentiu Ingmham.
145 The $126? ofTuon. By Goo. Waldo Browne.
146 The limo King. By Frank Dumout.

 

/

147 Nohby Nick of'Nevadn. By Edward L. “’haelar.

148 Thllnllerbnlt. Tom. By Hurry St. George.

149 Ilob Rockett the Bank Runner; or, The Bond to
Ruin. By churfc. Morrir.

150 The. Mad Miner; or,Dnmly Rock‘s Doom. By

151 fhwvflédft Browne.
‘ a eu Trailer. By Col. Prentiss In l’lIllilnl,

152 1111me liar-he: or, The Tigers offligh l’sluu. By
William R. Eyutor.

153  Frank, the Buckuhln Bravo. By Edward L.

let! er.

154 The Buy Trailers} nr, Dainty Lance on the
War-Path. By Jon. E. indzer, Jr.

155 Gold Plume, the lioy Bundlt; or, The Kid-Glove
580“. My Cu]. I’reniinx‘ ln rrnhurn.

156 \ 'ill “'lldfirc in the ’oodi. By C. Morrla.

15’? Ned Temple, the “(inlet Boy. By 1‘.C.Hnfl)nugh.

158 Deadwood Dick’s Dunm. By E. L. Wheeler.

159 lament-Lumber Joe’s Defent. By Philip. S.

nrne.

160 Buffalo Billy, the Boy Bullwhnckcr. By Col.P.
Ingruhaln.

161 By C. Morris.

Bob Raekctt, the Cracksmnn.
162 thtle Hurricane, the Boy Captain. By 011

Conn-es.
163 Deadwood chk’l Dream: or, Thu Rlvnll o!
the Road. By Edward L. Whealer.
164 Tornado 1011:; or, Injun Jnck from Red Core.
By T. C. Hnrhnugh. .
165 Bufi'nlo Blll’ri Bet. By Col. Prentiss lngrahnm.
166 Will “'ildllre Win: and Loseu. By Charles

. ioms.
162’ Dandy Rock’! Pledge. By George W. Browne.
168 lit-udwond Dick’s “'urd; or, The Black Hills
Jon hel. By Edward L. Wheeler.
169 TH: Boy Champion. By Edward Willett.
170 glob. Beckett’s Fight for Life. By Charle-
OTHE-

l ?1 Frank Morton. the Boy Herculel. By 011 Cowman.

172 The Yankee Ranger. By Edwin men-on. '

178 Dick Bin 11:, Scout; or, The Frontier Angel. By

Ellwnrd S. . is.

1’24 Dandy Rock’s Scheme. By G. W. Brnwne.
" limb n. motive. By Edward L. Wheeler.
“'1” “'lldflre‘n Pluck. By Chnrlen Morm.

7 The Boy (lmmnnnder. ilyColJ’rcnliu lngrnhnm.

8 The Maniac Hunter. By Burton Snxe.

9 Dainty Lance; or, The Mystic ,\ xll‘kamnn. By
Jon. E. Badger, Jr.

0 The Boy Gold-llnnter. Hg T. C. Hnrbnugh.

l The Scnpcgrace Son. By haries Morrn.

182 The Dark - Sklnncd Scout. By Limit. Col.

anultiue.

1923 Julie! Dart. Dewctlve. By Oll Coomcn.

134 Featherweight, thu nny Spy. By Edward Wlllett.

135 lyllrm}: Bill, the Overland Prince. By Col. Prcntlu

l’lL’t‘lI HUN-

156 l‘gn‘lntyJLanco and “in Find. By Joseph E.

lll El‘l’. l‘.
18? The Trapped Tiger King. By Chnrh-n Morrll.
188 The Ventrlloqulnt Deter-five. Bv Edmch L.

"H HHHHI‘
xx dam“
$5

i-l

='

o

Illl‘ \‘l‘
189 Old llorlcy’n lloyn; ‘or. Benito, the Young Mun-

tnuz- llrwlkr-r. By hlllj. Sum. S. Hull
190 film fi'llnnklnu, Smut. By Jnxnus L. Bum-n.

191 Dnndy Rock’s Rival. By Gen. \andn Browne,
192 Hickory llnrry; or, Roaring Rulph thth-ntrila-
um. By Harry 5:. George. Really Sc t. M.

193 l etcctlve Jouh Grim. By Eder L. “'llt-elnr.

llululy Sept. ‘1).
By 011 Coomol.

194 Prospect Pete; the Buy Miner.
Rcudy Sept. ‘28.
’%vmlerfhot Trailer. By T. C. lebaugh.
C

195 The
Rendy t. . .
190 The Dandy Detective. By Charch Morris.
Ready Oct. 12.
Issued Evin—y Wednesday.
Beadle‘u Pocket. Library is for pale by all Nam.
dnnlers, five ceuiu per copy, or rent by mall on receipt of nix
cent! each. ,

BEADLE & ADAMS. Publisher-I,
98 William Street, New York.

 

 

 

 

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