..-o.-.-... ..-.-~--.-...--..-cu.

 

Jan-null... n a..qop-~---o-nnco--I I
_ V
A  1 > > ‘

Copyrllhud. 188%, by BIADLI AND Amun. Entered M the Po“. Office II New York, N. Y., as Second Clan Mull Mailer. Aw” N, 1888.

 

VOLXVII.  Pubmmsamysgeggg333:“,  No. 209.

 

BUCK KEPT BIS EYES AND EARS OPEN, TO SEE AND HEAR. WHAT WAS GOING ON BELOW,

 

9: Buck Burt's, Pluck.

 

‘Buck Bun’s Pluck;

TEE scours or THE SGIOTO.

‘ BY EDWARD WILLETT,
» AUTHOR or “ rm: YANKEE carrrvss,” “ SANDY
BILL, or rams," “ran warm wow,” -
are, 1cm. arc.

 

. CHAPTER I.
'r H E s c 0 UT s .

THE miracle of spring had been wrought, and
the forest had arrayed itself in its garniture of
green. The buds that had swelled in March
and burst in April, were now bunches of full-
firown foliage, heavy, waxy, fresh and fragrant.

irds were singing in every tree, bright flowers
were springing into bloom on all sides, and the

' Cl broad Ohio was filled from bank to bank with a

muddy flood that turbulently hastened to find its
wag to the distant ocean.

' ' shower that had recently fallen had left the
“ face of nature fresh and gay, and had imparted
‘ to the round a softness that prevented it from
respon ing. crispil and noisily, as in the, dr
. summer-time, to t e most cautious tread. o
' better opportunity could have been presented to
such as wished to see without being perceived,

and to move without being heard.

80 thought, no doubt, a man who was stealth-
ily stepping from tree to tree, near where the
Scioto emp ies into the Ohio, and he inwardly
blessed the moistening rain and the dense canopy

 offl'een. ,

« though hardly above the medium hight, this
man was of large size, almost gigantic, in fact.
He was by no means corpulent, nor what is

' \. called “chunky” in form; but his shoulders

were unusually broad, and his chest was unusu—‘

'ally‘full; while the size of his limbs and thick-
fi ’ness of his sturdy neck were also indicative of
great etre_ th. His head was nearly uare, and
was cove with a thick coat of she and our-
~ ling brown hair. His features were plain, but
not ,uhcomely, and wore an expression of good-
humor which generally accompanies conscious
, , ' power. He was dressed in a coarse homespun
‘ tinting-shirt, with leather leggins and mocca-
. sins and his arms were the usual rifle, hunting-
knite and tomahawk of the pioneer.
Havin described this man, it is only neces-
, sary to ve his name and occupation.
“ Buok’ Burt, was thirty years of age, and the
greater part of his life ad been s nt on the
ontier. At that rlod (1790) by t e direction
of. Colonel George ogers Clark, who then com-
. manded the vVirginia frontier each Settlement
’ in Kentucky was required to keep two “State
ies." or scouts, in co 'stant service, to watch

:,, I s
 ‘ : emovements of the ndians and guard against

heir attacks. Buck was one of the men selected
for this duty by the settlement to which he be-
longed, and was peculiarly qualified for the po-

' sition by hisstrength of body, by his experience
V in Indian warfare,  his courage, his caution
- 'and his 'sagaclty. e was now scouting on the
north side of the river, for the purpose of ascer-

He was '

 

mining the strength and intentions of a band
that was reported to have rendezvoused near the
mouth of the Scioto.

Heavy as he was, and seemingly clumsy,
Buck Burt stepped as lightly and nelselessly as
a kitten. He walked slightly bent, with his
keen blue eyes watching every tree and bush
and the motion of everi leaf.

Thus Buck worked is way down the slope,
generally keeping behind one of the large beech,
oak or walnut trees with which it was clothed.
When the slope descended more rapidly into the
hollow that stretched down to the river, he used
still greater caution, and wormed himself over
the ground like a snake, lest even the tip of his
coonskin cap might be seen above the bushes.

At last be halted, ensconcing himself behind a
fallen tree in the midst of some black-gum bush-
es, and kept his eyes and ears open,toseeand
hear what was going on below him.

There was enou h to call for the full exercise
of those organs. n the hollow were seated fifty
Indian warriors, freshly painted and well armed,
and one of their number, who appeared to be a
chief, was addressing them. It was the object
of the scout to learn the intentions of these
warriors, andhe could not have hap ned upon
tgemtat a better time for accomplishing his
0 so .

There was another person, a white man, seated
in the center of the circle of warriors, to whom
the attention of Buck Burt was attracted as
soon as he was. near enough to distinguish the
visages of the party in the hollow. This man
was naked to the waist—in fact, his only gar-
ment was a pair of breeches, such as were worn
in the settlement—and his back bore the mark
of stripes. As he sat there, with his head bowed,
and his bound hands crossed upon his knees, he
looked so woebe one and miserable, that the
warm heart of t e sebut went out to him in
pity, and he mwardl muttered a threat that
would have startled t 6 Warriors, if they could
have heard it.

When the Indian 5 aker sat down, Buck
was satisfied. ~He ha learned the purposes of
the band and his mission there was ended. He
took the back track, going as he had come. as-
cended the slope, crossed a level plateau, and de-
Bclended to another level, the first bottom of the

10.

Here the scout halted, seated himself at the
trunk of a gigantic sycamore, and looked about
as if he was expecting some one. Soon the
bushes parted on he slope that led to the upper
bottom, and a young Indian approached. cau-
tiously at first, and more rapidly as the white
man rose and advanced to meet him.

This Indian was quite different in personal
appearance and in attire, from those whom Buck
had watched in the hollow. His paint showed
that he was on the war-path; but it was quite
unlike that of the others, in color and style. In
stature he was taller than they, his countenance
was finer, and his carriage and mien, were
tinged by a certain air of nobility, shaded with
melancholy, that sat well upon him.

Altogether, he was a person who seemed su-'

perior to the ordinary forest Indians. and he
believed that he had good mama so to consider
himself; for he was one of the noble Delaware

.N . ..‘__._.“,.. .5.

i ‘~._<

‘ "“ "1.7.33

w: luv-1'.

w I'awcvw

Wumuwvnn—n

; .37 . d. h , ._...__%M; w v

“,WW‘X; x -1: ‘ -_.. “M... ...___...-~.‘,,.....l ,-.. ... , _, .

e
r
a

 

Buck Burt’s Pluck. ‘ V, V. ,  i -

 

race, of which there were many within the pres-
ent limits of Ohio.

He was called Red Hawk by the white men,
among whom a considerable portionof his life
had been passed. He had gone on his first war~
path with Buck Burt, and thereafter ha'l ac-
companied the scout on nearly all his expedi-
tions. Buck sometimes called him by his name,
but more frequently addressed him as “ the
sachem,” knowing: and respecting; his pride of
race and birth. Red Hawk, also, had a title of
respect for his friend, whom he had named
Heavy Hand. In fact, they admired and re-
spected each other highly for the good qualities
which each knew the other to possess, and the
bond between two brothers could not be stronger
than was their alliance.

“ Did the sachem see the warrior?” asked the
scout as he rose to meet. Red Hawk.

“ Yes; and I saw Heavy Hand Watching
them and listening to the talk.”

“ What were they, then?”

“ Shawnccs. Heavy Hand knows it.”

“ No Mingoes?”

“ No Mingoss,” and a frown darkened the
face of the young chief as he uttered this hated
name. v

“ ell, it’s all the same; they mean, mischief.
As I understood the talk, they are here for the
purpose of pounciug upon the emigrant boats,
of which so many are coming down the river
this s ring.”

“ eavy Hand has understood the talk well.”

“ That white man—did you notice him? He
has been treatly badly.”

“ He has been whipped.”

“ Pretty hard, too. If there had been, say,
half a dozen of them, I doubt whether they

_ would haveachance to whip him again. For‘

what purpose do you suppose they have brought
him here?"

“ I think the Heavy Hand knows."

“ I can guess, and my guess don’t make me
feel a hit friendly toward those red-skins. It’s
my belief, Red Hawk. that they won’t move for
from where they are now, and it is my duty to
try to block their game, by going up the river
and warning the boats. until we can 9% force
from the settlements to rout them out. ill the
sachem go with me?"

“ Will the eagle fly?”

Without any more words, the two friends
struck off into the forest.

CHAPTER II.
COVERING A TRAIL.

BUCK and the Delaware were obliged to make
a long detour to get above the Shawnees, who
were. as has been stated, near where the Scioto
empties into the Ohio. When the two scouts
had passed around them, they struck the Ohio
about a mile above the mouth of the Scioto. and
traveled up the bank or the river, keeping a,
continual ookout for descending boats.

The scouts traveled very cautiously, taking the
greatest pains to conceal their trail, lest the
cunning Shawnees should discover their errand
and intercept them. At noon they stop -d to

 

- rest and to eat eheir frugal meal of drie veni-

son and parched corn. They had shot no game,
for fear that the sound of their guns might be

 

  
   
  
  
  
     
  
 
 
  
   
   
  
     
   
    
    
  
  
  
   
 
  

heard by an enemy, they made no fire, for fear
of being detected by the smoke, and on account
of the difficulty of obliterating the traces
of the fire. After dinner they would not
smoke Illcir pipes lest the scent of the tobacco
might he waited to the nostrils of some lurldn '
Shawn-e, and they sat in the shade without the,
comfort.

Has the Heavy Hand thought,” asked, the ..
Delaware. “ that the Shawnee may becoming “ .5
this way before long?” '

“What! ‘Dces the sachem think that they 1
ha‘x‘rc fognd our trail?” ,

“i should think not. It was. well covered. -:
and I Would defy any red-skin to follow it,'even
if he should light upon it by accident.” ‘ ‘

“Heavy Hand speaks truly; but the warriors '
Evish ,to capture a boat, and they will look {or u

out. -- :

“ That’s a fact, and I had never thought of it. A\
The rascals areafter us nOW, no doubt. and they .
may come upon us at any minute. What had
we better do!" ‘

“ We ought to hide. Find a place where we,
can watch both the river and the Shawnees.” 3

“ You are right, as you always are. Cane,
and let us find a place.’ . ‘

They went to where the riVervmade a bend
toward the northeast, and concealed themselves-v ~'
in the horseshOe, where they could have a. clear
view for two miles up the river. Buck remained "
at the bank to watch the water, while ,Red
Hawk lurked in the forest to look‘ out for the.“j
Shawnees from Lelow.  .~

It was nearly dusk when the scout, who, tired}
of sitting, had risen to his feet, heard a slight
“hist” that caused him to sink lack intovh
concealment. In a few moments Red Haw
camo silently creeping up to him. . s .‘

“What has the sachem seen?” asked Buck.

“ Shawnees. They are just going by. Listen.” ,

The scout listened and plainly heard footstepa
and muttering voices, that gradually 1»!de ,
the lace where he was conctaled. . -

“ hree?” he asked in a whisper. ,

“Three warriors.” 3 . . A;

Buck listened and again heard the footsteps
and the muttering voices. ’ 5‘1
3“ ’li‘hey are coming this way,” whisi ered Red

aw '. ‘ ,»

“ Theyare, indeed. The mean to campri '3»
here. \ lt's certain they’ve {Jot found our‘ will?
or they would be silent. Well, it’s best as it'is, ; .. .

rbaps. Let the sachem drop down under the.“ «

ank, and I will follow in a few minutes." ‘ , a

Red Hawk did as his friend requested,lmd .
disappeared. Buck carefully covered the trail;
not trusting to the darkness to conceal the traces V
of their presence, and followed his companion
down the bank. , 

Hardly Were they quietly ensconced in this  '
hiding-place, when they knew from the foot~ ; _
steps and the voices, that the Indiana had ‘ *'
reached the spot which they had 'ust left. They-
also knew, from what was said, t at they meant ‘
to Ease the night there. . , ' ~1

aving settled this pomt, the Shawnees prov
ceeded to satisfy their hunger. They made no
fire; but. a little less cautious than the previous
occupants of the horseshoe had been; a pipe

 

 

 

 

4 ' Buck Burt’s Pluck.

was lighted and assed around after the meal,
and they jabber with none of the reticence
for which Indians were noted in their inter-

‘ course with white men.

Aftera while the jabbering ceased, and the
scouts concluded that the Shawnees had laid
down to sleep. After waiting about half an
hour for sleep to overcome them, Red Hawk,
who was much the lightest of‘ the two, stole up
the bank to reconnoiter. There was a look of
disaWointment inrhis face when he returned.

“ hat is the matter?” asked Buck. “ Are
they not asleep yet?"

“One is awake. He is standing up, leaning
against a tree.”

“ I see, they have set him there to guard the
camp and watch the river. This makes our
task a little harder; but it must be done. There
is only one way to do it, Red Hawk. One of us
must go around and creep up behind that fel-
low and fell him. Will the sachem undertake
that ob?" «

H e ”

“ You must make no more noise than the

ass makes in growing. When you get up be-

ind the tree, you can choose your own time to
strike, and I will be ready to settle _those who
are lying down.”

The Delaware glided away, around by the
watle‘ir's edge, and Buck cautiously ascended the

n .

The task was, indeed, one that required the
.ntmost silence and rudence. The night was
wonderfully still. T e slightest sound could be
heard, the gurgling of the turbid flood along
the river-bank, the hum of the ni ht insects in
the forest, even the entle breeze t at scarcely
stirred the leaves 0 the trees. The Shawnee
sentinel, too, was wide awake; the moon, then
nearlyto the first uarter. was shining on his
face, and Buck cou d see that his eyes were
open. There could be no doubt that he heard
and saw every thing that could be heard and

seen.

The scout had raised himself up behind some
bushes that grew at the edge of the bank. He
was within less than two rods of! the sleeping
Indians, beyond whom stood the sentinel; but it
was necessary to get nearer. as his attack must
be made simultaneously with Red Hawk’s, and
their three enemies must be silenced together,
so that no one of them should have a moment’s
time to give the alarm.

Between the scout and the sleepers, hardly
three yards from their beads, was a fallen log,
nearly covered with vines and bushes. The
sentinel stood some two rods from this, with his
back inst a large tree. v While the Shawnee

. was loo ing up the river, eagerly watching for
a boat that might furnish spoil for himself and
his marauding companions, Buck laid himself
on the ground, and wormed his way like a
snake, “ inching” carefully toward the log, and
covering himself behind the bushes and tall
weeds. This 0 eration was performed in per-
fect silence, an was necessarily a slow one: but
he at last reached the log, and found himself so
near the indians that he could hear the deep
breathing of the sleepers.

As he is behind the log, he heard the chirp
of a much which he recognized as a signal

\

 

from Red Hawk. Raising his head, he peered
through the vines that grew over the log and
detected an almost imperceptible movement of
the foliage behind the sentinel. Convinced that
his friend was playing his part in the maneuver,
he followed the movement with his eye, until it
ceased near the tree against which the sentinel
was standing.

While he gazed eagerly at the got, fearing
that some slight noise from Red awk might
attract the attention of the Shawnee and destroy
the plot, he saw the Delaware slowly and silent—
ly arise from the ground, until he stood within
an arm’s length of the sentinel.

Suddenly the Delaware‘s keen tomshawk
flashed in the moonlight, and descended upon the
head of the unsuspecting sentinel, cuttin into
his brain with a sickening crash, and the haw-
nee fell without a word or a murmur.

Almost at the same instant Buck had made
his spring, and his tomahawk was buried, with
unerring aim, in the skull of one of the sleeping
Indians. As the other started to his feet, the
scout, finding his tomahawk unavailable at the
moment, knocked him down with a blow of his
fist, stifling the yell he was about to utter, and
usintr his knife. ' .

“ That was well done,” said Buck, as the Del-
aware came up. 4

“ Yes. No noise.”

“ Couldn’t have been done neuter, if I say it
myself. Silent and sure—that’s a good motto.
Do you want the scalpel"

“ No. If they were Mingo, I might count
them.” _

The two friends carried the bodies of the
Shawnees down the liank,,anrl concealed them
under-the bushes. They then returned. and lay
down near where their enemies had slept their
last, confident of being able to rest undisturbed
until morning.

At the break of day they were awake and stir- .

ring. They first concealed the arms and ac-
couterments of the slain Shawnees, noticing the
spot carefully, so that they might find them in
case of future need. Their next care was, to
oblite’te all traces of the conflict, leaving the
groun iii the vicinity in such a condition that
no passers—by should suspect that it had been
trodden upon. This was a task that required
care and time. and the'sun was quite high when
it was finished.

“ It does senrn 1;.) me,” said Buck, looking back
as they left the place, “that we have covered
our trail mighty well. I defy those red-skins to
guess that we’ve been about, until the miss
those three warriors, and then they wii begin
to use their eyes. But it may rain before that
time, and that would puzzle them. We may as
well keep on up the river.”

The scouts went about two ,miles further up
the river, and then seated themselves on the
bank, to rest and eat and take counsel to-
gether. . _

“I’ve about come to the couclusmn,” said
Buck, “that we ought to try to do something
more besides staying here to look out for boats
and warn them of the red-skins down onder.
The fact is, there ought to be a force ca led out
to break up the gang. If one of us could sta
and watch, while the other would go to the se

-

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

‘ Buck Burt’s Pluck. ‘ p 5‘

 

Hmm-nts with the news, that would he the best
thing. It would hardly do for you to stay, as
the people on the boats would notice your color
and distrust you; but you might gqto the set-
tlements.”

“ Look!” replied the Delaware, as he pointed
up the river. “ There is a boat.”

“ You are right, sachem. Two of them, by

_ thunder l”

 

CHAPTER III.
THE DECOY.

IT was with bright hopes and pleasant antici-
potions that Nathan Archer and his family
started from Fort Henry, on their way to the
frontier settlements of Kentucky. He regarded
it as extremely fortunate that StephemAlleyne,
the accepted lover and afiianced husband of his
daughter Susan, had concluded to emigrate to the
same place at the same time, as their combined
forces, be judged, would be sufficient to guard
them against any possible danger. Their route
lay down the Ohio and up the Kentucky River,
and flat-boats were their means of conveyance.

Nathan Archer's boat was forty feet in length
by twelve in width, and was divided by a cross
partition into two apartments. The smallest of
these was the sleeping-room of l i: wife and
daughter, and the other was nearly filled with
the miscellaneous “plunder” of an emigrant-
famil . At each end of the host was an unin-
closo 8 no of four feet, where a. large oar was
fastens upon the gunwale, one at the bow
and one at the stern, on opposite sides of the
craft. These oars served to steer the boat, as
well as for the purpose of propulsion; but there
was also a steering-oar, longer and heavier than
the others, which projected out from the stern,
its handle reaching up over the roof, where the
steersman was generally stationed. The crew
of Nathan Archer’s boat consisted, besides
himself of two men, one of whom was his son
Bartholomew, familiarly known as Bat Archer.
Bat was a stout, manly young fellow of twenty-
two, and his sister Sue was a brown-eyed, pretty
girl of nineteen. ‘

Stephen Alleyne’s boat was of the same con-
struction as that of Nathan Archer: but it had
no partition, as the interior was filled with a
stock of salt, nails, farming utensils and other
tools, with a. small assortment of dry- oods and
other articles, which he expected to ispose of
among the frontier settlers. Stephen was a
few years older than Bat Archer, and was a tall
athletic, black-eyed young Virginian, full 0
energy and daring. is crew was composed of
two stout and fearless Penns lvania bordermen,
named Isaac Marks and Wil iam Halls

Sue Archer had christened her father’s ark
the Good Hope, and Stephen Alleyne had named
histhe Promised Land. The two boats jour-
neyed together in good hope toward the prom-
ised land, with no labor or trouble on the part
of their crews, except to keep them in the chan-
nel, and steer clear of floating logs or trees.

In mentioning the occupants of Alleyne’s
boat, an important person was omitted. This
was his sister Margaret, three yearsyounger
than himself, his only relative, as far as he
knew, in the world. In appearance and dispo-

\

' Henry.

 

sition she was almost the counterpart of her bro-
ther, for whom her affection was unbounded.

Margaret Alleyne felt a strong affection for,
Sue Archer, as her brother’s Intended Wife, and
Sue on her part, admired and looked up to the
sister of her lover. As a matter of course the
two girls desired to by often tofifther, and Ste-
phen was always ready to row is sister in the
“ dinky ” to visit Sue. The two boats, in fact,
were frequently locked ‘ together, and were
never far apart, their floating abilities being
about equal.

Thus they journeyed, without molestation,
and without any striking incidents to break the
mcnotony of the voyage, until they had passed
over about half the route, when Nathan Archer,
who was on the roof of his boat, espied two men
standin on the north bank of the river.

As on y Indians were expected to be met with
in that locality, the alarm was at once iven,
and all on board, including Stephen \ eyne ,
and Margaret, who happened to be visiting the
Good Hope, hastened to take a look at their one-
mles.

The current was about to carry the ark in to— '
ward the north shore, and Nathan Archer,
seizing the steering-oar, ordered his men to
row Out to the middle of the river, when he was .
hailed in unmistakable English and Stephen '
Alleyne at the same time laid his hand on his
arm.

“ Don’t you see that one of-those is a white,
man?” said Stephen. “ He is hailing us, and
you had better let the boat drift in, and ask him
what he wants.” V

“ Don’t know about that,” re lied the old ‘
man.
more in the bushes. I have heard that some
white men have joined them, and aroyworse than
the red-skins.” ~

“There can be no danger in letting the boat '
drift in toward the shore, and we can easily pull ,
out if we want to.” ‘

“Perhaps you are right. We will let her-

edge in a little, anyhow. He is hailing us again. I I .

Hallo, ourselfl
come a card?” ,
“ No. I want to warn you that there are In-
dians below, on this bank, and you must look
out for them.” " . 5

"We will do that, you maybe sure. Who ‘
are you, and what are you doin there?”

“We are scouts from the ot er side of the
river, and are trying to warn boats of the red-
skins down yonder.” .

“There may not be another boat alon for a
week,-as none was ready when we 1e t Fort
Hadn’t you better come aboard?”

“ Reckon not. We’ve got our work to ’tend
to. You had better steer retty close to the
other shore, and keep a brig t lookout, and not
take to the land.” , i

“All rightl”ba.wled Nathan Archer, as the
boat was drifting out of hearing of the scouts.

“ I hardly know what to make of those
cha s ” he remarked, speaking to Stephen.

“ by not, sir? It was very kind to give no
warning."

“I think we will belikel tokeep alookout
for Indians. without being ld to. They may
mean well; but one of them was a red-skinm

What do you want? Want to '

s
l

 

“I see one Indian, and t ere may be g _ -

 

 

« ' own-mm.me " »

 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
   
  
  
 
 
 
 
  

 
 
 
  

I; near as

 

 

 

Buck Burt's Pluck.

 

“ There are some friendly Indians.”
“And a great many who are not so friendly.
There are some very near white men, too, and
~ that man may be one of them.”
“If he had meant harm, he would have ac-

_ cepted your invitation to mme aboard.”

‘There is nothing as cunning as an Indian,
unless it is a white man who has joined them.
It ma all be part of a scheme to get hold of us

' with ittle trouble and danger. He told us to
V keep close to the left shore, and that may be the
very place where he wants to get us. I believe
I will keep clear of both shores, and steer as
ssible in the middle of the river.”
“ I be love the man was friendly and honest;
but there can be no harm in doing as you pro-

pose.

Stephen and his sister soon ended their visit,
2 and rowed back to their own boat, which was
nearlya uarter ofamile astern of the Good
Hope. 0 at once set his ‘mcn at work with
, in order that the Promised Land
‘ might catch up with her consort.
‘ Nathan Archer, in the mean while, had steer-
ed his ark out into the middle of the river, and
was carefully watching both banks for signs of
an enemy. t had required some rowing to get
the boat into this position, for which reason
filleyne’s craft had gained on the other quite
s ow y.

It was not long before the old man, standing

‘ ’ on the roof of the Good Hope, caught sight of a

(man on the right bank of the river, who was
running up and down and beckoning to the
boat. He was a white man, nearly naked, and

'his‘ piteous gestures indicated that he was in

great trouble.

“ What do you think of that, Tom Blodgett?”
asked [Mr. Archer, addressing the man who

, stood at the bow oar,

' “That is a white man, sir, and he is in trou-

ble; no doubt about that. I think we might

- steer in and find out what is the matter.”

2 , Mr. Archer hesitated a, moment, and then

steered the ark in toward the shore, while the

,man on the bank continued his piteous gestures

-' and silent appeals.

._ .“ What is the matter? What do you want?”

., asked the old man, when he was near enough to

3 make himself heard.

“9 I have escaped from the Indians. For God’s

sake take me on board 1”

I, "f Don’t you know that man, father?” asked
Su n, who had been brought out by this new
exc tement. ‘

. “No. Do you?" ‘

, “ It believe it is Amos Darnel.”
“Shouldn’t wonder if you are right, girl,” re-

‘ lied her father, shading his eyes with his

. ands. “ He Is in trouble, anyhow, and we

V ought to take him off. Give a strong pull with

your oar, Tom Blodgett, and we will run right

, in. Look out, you man ashore, and be ready to
gump aboard as soon as we touch the bank.”

’ A few sweeps of the long bow oar turned the

ark toward the bank. Bat Archer then plied

his 0311', and the Good Hope slowly neared the
shore, the man on the bank walking down to

 

; . meet it.

“Look alive, now i” shouted Nathan Archer.

. .“ Jump quick, and we will shove right off!”

‘ ‘

 

Those were tholast words he spoke. Hardly
had the ark touched the shore, when there came
a volley of rifle-shots from the forest, and the
next moment tho bank was alive with yelling
Indians.

The old man and Tom Blodgett fell dead, one
shot through the head, the other through the
heart. Bat Archer, astounded by this unex-
pected reception, lost his presence of mind for
a. moment, but soon regained it, and seized n.
pole to push off the boat. ,

' His effort was unsuccessful. The savages
were already in possession of the boat. and he
was stunned with the blow of atomahawk before
he could drop the pole and defend himself.

When he recovered his senses, he found him-
self lying on the bank. bound and guarded by
two Indians. His mother and sister were seat-
ed near him, also under guard, and the rest of
the Indians were pleasantly engaged in plunder-
ing the boat.

 

CHAPTER IV.
A FLOATER.

STEPHEN ALLEYNE’S boat, as the reader has
been informed, was a little distance behind the
Good Hope, and Marks and Hall were gradually
shortening the distance by rowing, while the

roprietor of the boat was on the roof, manag-
ing the steering-oar.

“ What is the old man up to now?” asked
Hall. who was at the bow oar, as he saw the
Good Hope turning in toward the shore. “ He
surely can’t be meaning to land.”

“There is a white man on the bank," replied
Stephen. “Don’t you See him? He is making
signals. as if he were in distress. Now they
are talkin with him; but I can’t make out
what is sai .” .

“They are going to land, sir. I wouldn't have
thought it of the old man -—so extra cautious as
he has always been.”

“ I am afraid there is some trick in it, thou h
it is hard to believe that any white man wou d
be mean enough to act as a rlecoy for those
bloody savages. We had better edge in toward
the shore. Pull up lively, Isaac."

Both oarsmen bent to their sweeps, and the
head of the Promised Land was turned toward
the shore, just as the Good Hope touched the
bank. I

“My God i”

This exclamation was forced at the same time
from the lips of Stephen Alleyne and Will Hall,
as the rifles of the concealed Indians were dis-
charged with deadly effect among the crew of
the Good Hope. Marks. who had not been able,
from his position. tosee what was 20in on.
stood u and looked over the roof; while ar-
garet lleyne. her face white with terror and
anxiety. peered out at the little window in the
side of the boat. '

Stephen Allcyno acted like a crazy man. He
called frantically for his rifle, and, with a strong
sweep of hi; steering-oar, turned the boat’s head
directly toward the shore.

“ What are you doing?” screamed Hall, as he
rowed vigorously to counteract the effect of the
steering-oar.

“ Don’t you see that they are murdering our
friends? The old man and Blodgett are shot,

 

 

 

 

,N'i-vvu .52. .

Buck Burt's Pluck. 9

 

andBen Archer is down, and Susan will be kill-
cd unless we can help her.”

“ But we can do nothing by going ashore.
we will only give the red—skins our scalps, and
make matters worse. Don’t you know that your
sister is on this boat? Do you want her to be
killed l”

By the united exertions of the oarsmen the ark
was turned from the dangerous direction, and
was again brought out into the channel where

it was beyond the reach of Shawnee hullets.‘

Stephen Alleyne descended from the roof, Mar—
garet came out from the interior of the boat,
and all gazed in silence at the spot where their
friends ad been murdered and captured. They
saw the savages carry Susan Archer ashore, to-
gether with her mother and brother, and watch-
ed them as they proaeeded to pile their plunder
out on the ban . ,

“You see, Mr. Alleyne, that we could do
nothing,” said “rill Hall.

“ You were right, Will. We would only have
lost our lives, without accomplishing anything.
And yet, something must be done. We don’t
deserve to be called men, if we allow those red-
skins to kill our friends, or to carry them off,
without making an effort to save them.”

“ What can we do with such odds against us?”

“ I can't tell you now. The odds are very
heavy; but something may be gained by strata-
gem. There is one thing‘we can do—we can
anchor the boat here and can think of the mat-
ter at our leisure. e must not forget to trust
to Providence, as well as to rely upon our-
selves.” _ _

“ It is a dangerous plan, em The Indians have
the other host, and they can float down to us
whenever they want to.’

“ I believe we could beat them off, and I
feel sure that we could escape from them.
What do on think, Margaret? Can we desert
our trien s?”

l “ By 1!? igleanAblwtghulusghmy hiyhthem as
on as l pose-T 0 ep em. opeyou
aregnot afraid, ,‘Will Hall."

“ Not for myself miss; but I am a little
skeered for you. If you want to stay, you
will find that Will Hall W111 stay as lens as any
man.

The Promised Land was anchored in the mid-
dle of the river, within sight of the captured
boat. Stephen Alleyne, gloomy but determined,
busied himself in cleaning-his rifle and running
bullets, and the two oarsmen followed his ex-
ample, while Margaret prepared sup 1‘.

After-supper they sat out at the w of the
boat, discussmg plans for assistin their friends,
and the chances of being them veg attacked.
There was no change visible on shore. The
Indians had finished plundering the Good Hope,
and. to judge by the name they made, were en-
joying a carouse. -

Isaac Marks noticed a log floating down
toward them. and called Alleyne’s attention
mt, remarking that he feared it might hit the

t

“No danger,” replied Stephen. “ It will go
just to the right of us.”

“ Provided it don’t take a notion to whirl
around.”

“It can’t whirl quick enough to hit us. But

 

there is something else about that 10 , Isaac.‘
Ilf: sgems to me that I see a man’s head a ongslde
o .

“ I think I do see a bunch of ha’r. Can you
see it Will Hall?”

“ Yes; and I see a man’s hand again the
log. Do you think it is an Indian; . -
leyne’!” -

“ One Indian would hardly dare to come to us
in that manner; but we Will be ready for him,
whatever he is i” ‘

“ Hallo the boat!”

The hail from the log was so low that it could V V
not possibly be heard on shore, and the voice ,.
was not that of an Indian.

“ Hallo, yourself!” replied Stephen. “ Are
you white or red?” .'
“White, it I know myself,” answered the
stranger, as he raised his hand above the log.
“ Will some of you reach down and take mygun

as I come by the boat?”

The log drifted within a few feet ol’ the ark,
and Stephen reached down and took the rifle ,
that was handed to him. The stranger disa - 
peered for a moment, then rose on the near si e ” ‘
of the log, and drew himself up at the sidovot
the boat.

“You swim like a fish ” said Stephen, as he
helped him 11 . “ I would like to know how you,
kept our ri e dry.”

“ T at tree had forks enough to lay it on, sir.
My powder-horn is water-proof, and a little
wetting won’t hurt my bullets, and I reckon I
am all right.” ' ‘ ,

“We are ve well pleased to see a white man '
here, and won] be glad to know who you-are, ,
and where you come from.” T

“I am commonly called Buck Buckram and
I hope the lady will excuse m looks, whic are
those of a drowned rat,” rep ied the stranger, ,
with a shy glance at Margaret Alleyne. ‘ ,

“Are you not the same man who hailed use. ,
from the bank this morning above beret” ’

“ It was the other boat that I hailed, I believe.
The old man didn’t seem disposed to follow the,
advice I gave him.” '

“ He saw an Indian with you, and was sus- ;, .
pficious; but I don’t think he would have landedi fr

he had not been enticed to the shore by a
white man.” .
“ Ah! that white man! I ’lowed that the red— 3

skins meant to use him in that way.”

“ Is hea ren adel”

“ A what, sir ’ \.

“Is has white man who has joined the Inr
dians. like Simon Girty?”

f‘ Not quite so bad as that perhaps. It’s a. .
trick thered-skins have started lately, here on v- '
the river. They catch a white man, and whip, ,
him or scare him half to death, until they make
him obey their orders like a dog. Then the set
him out on the bank when a boat comes on , _

to pretend that he is in distress. and so bring t e ‘ ‘

boat toland. Then the red-skins, who are hid.
in the bushes, find it easy to capture the btfit
and kill the people. just as you haveseen I

evening.” ’»
“That white man, then, was forced toast no
he did?” v ,_
“I sup he was, sir; but it does seemto ,
me that any white man who had half a heart '»
/ . «

 

 

 

Buck Burt’s Pluck.

 

 ‘ would rather be killed than help to murder his

i. own people. I don’t claim to be any better

 - than the common run of folks; but they could—

"; n’t force me into such a thing by burning me a

. dozen times."

 “ You speak like a man. But I have forgot-
ten to offer you anything to eat, and you must

V‘: . be ha y.”
y; ’i “ I a uSed to that, sir.”
1, “Margaret, set out some supper for our

_ friend."
in, . “Where were gen when the other heat was
I‘ , captured?” asked tephen, while the scout satis-
s “ fled his hunger.
= ' “ Not far behind you, sir. In fact, I was
nearly abreast of your boat. 1 was afraid that
,i . something wrong would happen, and I edged
- . down the bank to watch you. ’
. ~~ “ What Indian was that who was with you?"
~ “Red Hawk is his name. He is a Delaware,
‘ and a rtner of mine."
“W ere is he now?”
“ I left him on shore, thinking you might be

, suspicious again if he should come floating
t. 3 down the river as I did. But he’s got his work
I: ' to do there. It’s likely that he’s in the Shawnee
' ’ camp at this minute, and I shouldn’t be sur-
 prised if he were to teach those red-skins some
=  new tricks before he is through with them. ”
‘  . Stephen Alleyne turned t econversation up-
 .y ‘ on the subject that most nearly interested him,
the possibility of savin Sue Archer and her
mother and brother. t was Buck’s opinion
that the could do nothing then but wait and
watch. heir own position might soon become
dangerous, in which event it would puzzle them

to escape.

“Don't you think we could beat them off?”
. uiredA is he.

' \ ,, he scout s ook his head dubiously.

“There are fifty of the red-skins,” he said.
“ That is, there were fifty yesterday—now there
are forty-seven, I suppose. Itis pretty heavy
odds for four of us.”

, “You forget my sister. Ithink she would

: count.”

431:: The scout bent upon Margaret Alleyne a

lance of respectful admiration that brought
6 color to her cheeks.

‘1 . “Even with her help," he said, “they would
‘ r be toomany for us. he have the other boat,

, air and the advantage 0 the current would be

a with them. We could hardly hopeto hurts
man of them before they came on us.”

“ Can we remain here, then, until they set 0!!
after us?” -

f‘I don’t see anythin to hinder. The red-
skins have canoes, I rec on. If not, they can
easil make them. But it’s not the canoes that
tron les me. All these Shawnee warriors could
lie, down in the boat yonder, without ivin us
a fair show toshoot one of them. fthin it
would be best for the sake of your friends on
shore, to stay here as 'long as you can. While
the red-skins are where they are, there’s a
chance for those prisoners; when they start to-
ward their homes the chance will grow slimmer
“a, min” that st t d rt

y sister says we mu no ese our
friends while it is possible to help them.”

“ he carries _a brave heart," replied the scout,

 

 

 

 

 

“m, w ‘4"... ea,

{mew-«:- 4 ‘24-: a;
,. ..

 

 

with another admiring smile, “ and we ought to
be good enough men tostand upto what she
says. But, if that other boat ever leaves the
shore, this one had better get out of the way as
fast as it can.” u
“I believe they are trying to do something
now," said Margaret, as she pointed toward the
Hope. “ can hear them on the boat, and
I think I can see them.”
“Your si ht and hearing are better than
ours. I see t em now, and hear them too. Why,
what can be the matter with the varmintsi

Red Hawk must have been playing a trick on

them."

 

CHAPTER V.
was “ rmoxs ” or RED HAWK.

RED HAWK had been left by Buck Burt on
the point of land where they had the encounter
with the three scouts from the Shawnee camp.

The friends, in retracing their steps down the
river-bank, heard the firin and the shoutin
below, and knew that a col ision had occurr
between the whites and the Indians. They be-
lieved that one or both the boats had been de-
coyed to the shore, in which event they could
not doubt the nature and result of the collision;
but they were unable from their position on the
bank to form any certain concluSions.

At the suggestion of Red Hawk, the con-
cealed their rifles and ammunition un er the
bank divested themselves of a portion of their
clothing, and swam overto a small island, about
half- way from the channel to the middle of the
stream. /Here the had a good view of all that
happened and their worst fears were soon con-
firmed. When Stephen Alleyne’s boat dropped
down and anchored, Buck Burt determined upon
the course that he meant to ursue and he
swam back to the north shore w th Red Hawk.

The scouts held a brief consultation, which
ended in jointly pushin of! a log that had
caught at the bank. The 0g was a portion of
the trunk of a tree, with several of the branches
i'emaiuingu n it. Having ascertained which
side would eat uppermost, Buck placed his rifle
securely on the branches and swam ed with the
log, gradually steering it into the channel.

Hawk had his task, which had been
agreed upon during the consultation, and he set
at work, when his friend had left him, to per-
form it.

Taking the blanket and head-dress of one of
the Indians whose bodies had been concealed
under the bank, he assumed them in place of his
own, and then, with pigments obtained from the
person of the same warrior, painted his face
after the Shawnee fashion. This done. he pro-
ceeded down the river until he was near the
camp of the Shawnees, when he made a detour
and approached it by the rear.

The newly-risen moon shed but a feeble light
through the clouds that obscured its face, and
the comparative darkness would aid his dis-
guise; but he was resolved to prevent discovery
as far as it was possible to do so. He did_ not,
therefore, enter the camp openly and like a
new-comer. as in that case he might havebeen
noticed and questioned: but he stole in quietly,
and insinuated himself among the warriors n
such a manner that none of them suspected that

 

, as.

 

 



 

 

Buck Burt’s Pluck. 9

 

one had been added to their number. It was
eas to do this, as all were engaged in carousing
an examinin the plunder that had been taken
from the G Hope.

Stately and silent, the young Delaware strode
through the encampment, his eye taking in
everything, although he seemed to notice noth-
ing. Near the edge of the encampment, undera
large tree, was seated a oun white man,
whose arms and feet were oun . At a little
distance from him was an old woman with her
head bowed in grief, and near her sat a much
youn or woman, who was more beautiful than
Red awk had ever dreamed of. These were
not bound, and the three Indians who were
guarding the party were busin occupied in
guarreling over the shares of the plunder of the

oat.

The admiring gaze of Red Hawk was fastened
upon Sue .Archer, until she noticed him, and
turned her face from him. The warrior turned
away with a sigh and strolled down to the water
where the captured boat was moored.

The plunder of the Good Hope had been com-
pleted, and all the valuables had been taken out
on the bank and scattered through the woods.
There were a few Shawnees lingering about the
boat when Red Hawk reached the bank, and he
kept out of sight until they had all gone back
into the woods. Then he quietly slipped down
ah): bank and examined the fastenings of the

t.

The Good Hope had along and stout cable,
which had been used for making her fast when
Nathan Archer wished to land. This cable had
been loosely tied by the Shawnees around the
trunk of a small tree. and Red Hawk perceived
that it would be an easy matter to cast the boat
loose. As the current was tu ging strongly
against her it was probable t at she would

uickl float off, and she mightbe arrested by
t ose elow before the Shawnees could recap-
ture her.

Red Hawk had seen and heard enough tocon-
Vince him that the Shawnees intended to remain
where they were, and to use the Good Hope as a
piratica] vessel. 'He thought it would be a good
thing to get her out of their power.

Looking down the river, he saw that Stephen
Alleyne’s boat was still there, dark and motion-
less in the channel, and he uickly sli ped the
cable that confined the Good ope to t e shore.
As the current began to bear her off, he as-

cended the bank, ssed around the edge of the
encampment ‘an mingled with the Indians
who were collected about the plunder.

The enterprise of the oun Delaware was not
entirely successful. Tiere ad beenal'ew'In-
dians in the vicinity of the boat, and one of
them wished to go on board directly after the
cable was cast off. As he reached the bank, he
saw the boat moving away, and immediate]
gave the alarm. In a few minutes the ban
was covered with yelling and whooping Shaw-
nees, who at once heath-red themse ves to re-
capture the vessel. which was drifting slowly
down the stream, not having yet felt the full
fhrce of the current. SWimmers plunged into
the water, and quickly reached the craft. By
the aid of the sweeps, which they managed
clumsily enough, they succeeded in bringing the

camp, and it was soon known that one of the

 

Good Hope to the shore. As there was no sua-
picion of treachery, the Shawnee; thought that

he cable had slipped, and contented themselve-
with tying it more secure] .

Althou h Red Hawk ad not succeeded in
freeing t e boat, the excitement that had been
occasioned among the Shawnees by her tem-
porary loss had iven him the opportunity to
execute another p an that was in his mind. .

When he went back to mingle with the war—’
riors, after loosin ihe cable, he strolled toward
the place where at Archer was seated, reach-
ing it just as the cry was raised on the bank._
Al the warriors, except, those who were guard—
ing the prisoners, seized their weapons, and
rushed toward the river, not knowing the cause
of the alarm or the extent of the danger.

The guards, also, were touched b the excite- _
merit. Without really deserting t eprisoneigi ',

r,

they went toward the bank, for the purpose
gratifying their curiosity, and to be at hand in
case of necessity. Red Hawk took advanta 601
this moment to step ii to the prisoner an cut
the strips of bark that ound his handsand legs.
At the same time be pointed toward the fo'Fest£
and then toward the river, and was out of sigh
before Bat Archer could recover from his aston-
ishment. '

Fortunately, Bat Archer was a nick-witted
and cool-headed youn fellow. e instant] ’
fontilprehended the peeition of affairs, and -
en
that ad been inted out b the Indian.

uickly as Hawk ad done his work,
he ad taken the precaution to secure the stri
of bark that he had cut fro the prisoner. g
they had been left on the g ound, they sou ‘
have been found and examined whemhe escape '
was discovered, and the Shawne knowing
that the prisoner had no knife Woul naturally
have suspected treachery. The Delaware had;
guarded against this, by taking with him the
strips of bark as he shpped around, out of sight
of he guard, until he reached the river, where
he threw them into the water. .

When he came to the river, the Shawnee! had
regained possession of the boat, and were
making it fast to the bank. Knowingl V
there must soon be an a] \ an- '
other quarter, that would draw them away ,
from the river Red Hawk determined to re- -
main there, as he he
mi ht work harm to the enemy.

e Hope had hardly been secured to
the bank, when the alarm was raised at the

Erisoners had esca . The enraged Shawnees
astened back, ma ing the night hideous with
their yells, and scattered about the woods int
pursuit o! the fugitive.- Red Hawk gave no
more thought to Bat Archer, whom he was able
torender no further assistance, and pr

to carry his plan into execution. ‘

From among a ban of plunder that had been
piled on the bank e picked outahandsaw,
the use of which lie had learned among, the
whitemen. With this in his hand, has 
down the bank, and again boarded the cod
Hope. The two sweeps and tho steering-oar, =
were in their placesa hanging on iron pivots
at the gunwales an at the stern. Gom‘

\ ..

darted off into the forest, in the direction _

  
   

d still another plan that _

 

We... .4...

),

 

 

1-}:

fish

 

mencing with the sweeps he sawed each
of these half in two from the under side, and
left them hanging as he had found them. He
was only a few minutes engaged at this task;
but he had not quite finished it when a renewed
yelling down the river told him that the Shaw—
nees had caught sight of the fugitive. Then a
splash in the water, followed b several shots,
gave him to understand that at Archer was
“lying to escape by swimming. In a little
w ile he knew, ythe yells of rage on shore,
and a hearty cheer from the river, that the
fugitive had reached the boat in the channel.
’ By this time the Delaware had climbed the bank,
and had returned the handsaw to the pile of
plunder. He then hastened into the woods, and
returnedto camp with the disappointed war-
riors, as if he had been one of the pursuing

party.
Notyet did the enraged Shawnees perceive
any treachery, or suspect that an enemy was at
' work in their midst. Their displeasure was
visited upon those who had been left to guard
the prisoners, as it was supposed that the white
man had freed himself from his bonds, and that
their careless curiosity had suffered him to es-
cape. They were angry enough to make a de-
scent upon the boat in the channel, and, as they

-,had no other claims upon their attention just
then, they determined to do so.

' Twent picked warriors took their weapons
on boa the Good Hope, the rest of the party
remaining on shore to guard the camp.

Hawk remained on shore, and quietly
seated himself on the bank, to watch the pro-
gress of this Indian naval expedition.

’ Down the river, about a quarter of a mile
from the fihawnee cam , he could see the somber
and motionless form 0 Stephen Alleyne’s boat,
a darker spot on the dark water, with no si 11 of
_ life about her. Just below him was the
Hope, crowded with dusky savages, all of whom
were concealed within the ark, except a few who
stood at the sweeps and the steering-oar.

The clumsy craft did not start out into the
river rs idly enough to suit its red owners, nor
did its a ow progress please them. Besides, they
wished to ctice at the cars so that they
might use t em well in case the nomad Land
should attem t to escape. Therefore. at the
cemmand of t e chief, two of them took hold of
the starboard sweep, for the purpose of forcing
the boat out into the channel.

’ Then shortly, as Red Hawk was expecting,

‘ the starboard oar snap ed short 03. T i was
immediately followed y a similar accident to

' the larboard oar, elicitin a howl of rage from
the astonished Indians. 5 the ark had by this
time veered in toward the shore, it became
necessary to use the steerin -oar, which broke
of! more easily than either 0 the others.

Finding themselves adrift, without cars or
[middlea with no means of propelling or guiding

e unwieldy ark, the Shawnees at once per-
oeived that they would be compelled to aban-

‘ don the expedition and devote all their efforts
to bringing the boat back to land. Most of
them stripped and jumped into the water, where
some took hold of the cable, and others swam

' by the side of the ark. Thus, by dint of pulling
and pushing, the Good. Hope was brought to the

 

\

Buck Burt’s Pluck.

shore, at a considerable distance below the point
from which she had started.

Having satisfied himself that the expedition
was a failure, Red Hawk returned to the camp,
tolearn what was next on the Shawnee pro-
gramme. The next thing was a council. to
determine what should be done. The warriors
had examined the broken oars when they
brought the boat to land, and had discovered
that something was wrong. Knowin that the
white owners of the heat would not ave ren-
dered them unfit for service, they naturally
suspected that there was a traitor in the camp,
or that enemies were about. Two men were
leftto watch the boat, and the remainder re-
turned to the camp to talk the matter over.

As the council was held “in the open,” where

there were no closed doors, and reporters could
notbe barred out, it was eas for Red Hawk
not only to learn the cone usions that were
reached, but,'to listen to the deliberations as they
proceed .
'The council decided that the warriors should
allbe called together, counted and examined,
in order that it might be known whether the
three spies were present, and whether any
stranger had crept in among them. When this
decision reached the ears of Red Hawk, he pru<
dently retired, and concealed himself until the
count and examination were over. -

The count disclosed that the three spies were
not present, and that none but Shawnee war‘
riors, entirely above sus icion, were within the
camp. Emboldened by is success thus far, the
young Delaware crept back, in time to learn
the next decision of the council. It was to the
effect that the boat had been disabled by some
subtle enemy, by whom the three spies had ‘
been either on tured or killed. It was deter-
mined to send ve of the most skillful warriors, ‘
before morning, on the track of the missing men,
to follow their trail and ascertain what had be-
come of them.

This was sufficient for Red Hawk. He had

ained some valuable information, and he was
satisfied that it would be dangerous for him to
remain longer in the Shawnee camp. He
stealtth Withdraw, and made his way through
the woods toward the river;

He had, yet another blow to strike. Red.
Hawk was a man who never considered his
work finished while he could find an hing to
do. He knew that two warriors h been left
in char of the boat, and it was possible that
he mig t diminish the strength of his enemies
by that number. -

When he came near the boat, he moved cau-
tiously, and reconnoitered carefully. He soon
discovered that one of the warriors was lying
at the bow of the boat, asleep, and the other was
seated on the ground, smoking, and looking out
on the river.

The young Delaware was an adept in the art
of “ snaking.” As the warrior’s face was turn-
ed from him, Red Hawk found it easy to worm
himself within striking distance of his foe.
Rising on one knee, he reached out his left hand,

clap it over the mouth of the Shawnee, drew
him k. and plunged his ready knife into his
heart. This was done so quickly and quietly,

that the Indian on the boat was not 91139996,

<".’fi_

t

 

 

at

 

 

Buck‘n'urt'. Pluck.

 

.‘c.
: ’
,
.p

 t:»' ‘

 

and Red Hawk had nothing to do but to step
down and dispatch him with his tomahawk.

This done, he looked for the canoe, or “ dug-
out,” that belonged to the Good Hope, and found
it tied at the stern of the ark. He tplaced his
rifle in the canoe, and paddled swi tly out to
Stephen Alleyne’s boat.

 

CHAPTER VI.
A BLOODY TRAIL.

WHEN Buck Burt had remarked that Red
Hawk must have been playing some tricks on
the Shawnees, the oxmtement among them was
such that Stephen Alleyne expressed the belief
that they were about to attempt the capture 0
the Promised Land; but the scout told him that
they would not set out on such an expedition
with so much noise.

“ When red—skins mean mischief," he said,
“ they are mighty quiet. You need never ex-
pect to hear them. and you’ll be lucky if you can
see them before you feel them."

It was too dark to distinguish anything with
certainty at that distance. and they could only
guess, from what they could hear and see, that
the boat was loose, and that the Indians were
trying to et her back to her moorings. When
the noises ad ceased, and the dark form of the
Good Hope lay motionless at the bank, they
knew that they had guessed correctly.

“ I told you that it was one of Red Hawk’s
tricks,” said the scout. “ He turned the boat
loose; but I reckon it’s for the best that they got
it back. I wonder what the sachom Will be up
to next.”

“ Perhaps he will be up to getting away from
there,” suggested Stephen.

“ Why so?"

“Don’t you suppose that the Indianswill sus-
pect something wrong, and will make it too hot
for him there?”

“ Reckon not; Red Hawk knows well enough
,how to cover his trail. He will stay there as
'long as he wants to. Hello! What are thevar—
mints yelpiug about now?" ,,

The Shawnees could be heard yelling and
whooping through the woods, as if they were
running, their course being toward the river, in
the direction of Alleyne’s boat.

“ They have found out the trick that your
Delaware friend played on them,” said Stephen;
“ and they are trying to catch him.”

“ Don’t you believe thatl The sachem is
amon them at this minute, booting as loud as
the widest of them. unless he is busy at some
other devilment. I’ll tell you what the matter
is. Somebodi has got loose from them, and it is

» not Red Haw

“Can it be Susan? Is it possible that the wo-
men have esca .di”

“ Not likely. I don’t know what it is that the
sachem can’t do if he tries; but he would hardly
try that. It the women-folks should get loose,
it would be easy enough to catch them, and they
might suffer for it.” '

“ It is Bat Archer, then. He IS smart enough
to get away from them if he has a fair chance.
Was not that a splash in the water, near the
shore?” V ' , .

*‘ Yes. He means to swim tor It, L917 us

 

jump into your little boat and pull toward the
shore. Perhaps we can help him.”

In a moment they were in the dinky, and
Stephen took the oars, while the scout seated
himself at the bow, with his rifle in his hand.
As they pushed off from the ark, they heard
shots fired from the shore, mingled with the
yells of the savages.

“ They are after him right sharp,” daid Buck;
” but it they don’t chance to hit him/and if he
can swim well, he is safe.”

Stephen made the little boat spin through the
water, the scout directing its course. The shot! '
and shouts ceased after a while, and they ,
began to believe that the fugitive had been hit, y
when a faint hail was heard down-stream. ‘il'he _:
boat was turned in the direction of the cry, and .,
soon icked up Bat Archer, who, swimming
with is clothes on, had become nearly ex:
hausted. ' , ' .

“ I would have gone down very soon, if on ~
had not picked me up,” said Bat, when he (1 ~
been taken to the ark and supplied with iry.
clothes. “I had run myself out oi! breath on
shore, and when I jumped into the river I
thought I had rather be drowned than taken .by‘
the ndians When in clothes get soaked-
through, they seemed 1i eso much lead haug-
ing about me, and I could hardly move my:
limbs.” ‘~ ‘

“We were on the lookout for you,” r lied
Stephen; “but I am afraid we would ave-
missed you if you had not hailed us. How did
you at loose?” ' ,

“ was sitting on the ground, my hands and ‘
feet tied with hickory bark, when there was;
noise at the bank. and most of the Indians ran
over there. An Indian stepped up to me then
and the bark on m wrists and ankles was en .‘
before I knew it. 9 pointed toward the woods .
and toward the river, and disappeared as it he
had, sunk into the round.” 

“That was Red awk,” remarked Buck. _

“ I ran away, of course, as 1 could do not  ,‘
to help mother and Sue while the Indians w ;
me. and there might be a chance it 1’ could a: -
free. I had a hard run for it; but 1 reached I
river, and here I am.” - ‘ '

“It was one of the sachem’s tricks.
just his way of working.
arrotll‘ifir befltfi‘e he is dong); th i .

- ey w' suspect t a some ing s
now.h and they may find him out,” sum
tep en. . '

“Not before he gets throu h with than»!
warrant you. It’s precious Ii tle satisfaction
they will get out of Red Hawk. Min Margaret; .
your eyes are sharper than ours, as well as.

nghter. Can on tell us what is going oust
the boat up you eri’z,

“I believe it is moving out,” replied Hal‘s.»
garet. ’ » v

“Yes, ma’am; and I think that I can see
some red-skins, who are moving out with it.” ,.

“ Only a few.” - '. ‘ “
‘ “ Only a few in sight; but there may be plenty
hid in the boat. It is liker that there are.”

“Do you think they are coming after us?!»
asked Stephen. ' .

“ It looks as if the mean to try it."

“ Shall I pull up 3 anchor?”

  
    
    
   
    
   
   
   
 
   
  
    
   
    
    
 
   
  
 
  
   
  
  
     
 
  
  

 

That is
He may show them

/

 

1:8 ' , Buck Burt’s Pluck.

 

“Wh not stay here and fight them?” in-
quired at, in whose thoughts revenge was
uppermost. “ We will have as good a chance as

' they will.”

‘ We have talked that matter over,” replied
the scout, “and we concluded that we can do
nothing but cut and run, if they are really
coming after us. But; have my doubts whether
they will 0 far.”

“ Why 0 you say that?”

“Because we hear nothing from Red Hawk.

‘ It is certain now, that he is there with them.”

“ Perha s as a prisoner,” interrupted Ste hen.

“ ed Hawk a prisoner! You don‘t now
that red-skin, Mr. Alleyne. If there was any
pressing danger, he would let us know in some
way. At all events, there can be no harm in
wanting a little while, until we see what is going
tohap 11.”

All strained their eyes in the direction of the
Good Hope, to discover the object of the In-
dians. They saw that the boat was headed out
into the stream, and then they faintly heard a
cracking souni, quickly followed by another.

“ What’s that. asked the scout.

“The cars are broken, I am sure,” replied

‘ Bat Archer. “ The boat is whirlin around,
and the red-skins don’t know what to 0. There
another crack, and I’ll bet my head that
It’s the steering oar. It’s might queer, too,
' that the cars should break. Tom lodgett and
' I have hai hold of one of them together pretty
often, an more than two men can’t work at
, them. W are no babies; but the oars never
‘ ‘ .showed a sign of cracking when we pulled our
‘ best. Now all three have snapped together.
Those red-skins must be stouter men than I
3 ever met, or something else was the matter.”
“It's another of Red Hawk’s tricks. I was
sure we Would hear from him if there was any
,’danger of the Shawnees coming down on us.
~ He had flared the cars, so he knew they couldn’t
,‘ fofar. There is no more danger to—night, as
think. and some of us had better get some rest. ”
. , , The soon: was presssd to take some sleep, and
 "consented tolie down at the bow of the heat,
while Stephen Alleyne Kept watch. He showed
his hunter’s training by dropping to sleep in an

 

,

«4‘ 

v

    
    
  
  
       
  

, [Allelyne being able to keep him awake.

A was uict on land and water, as far as
' Stephen Al eyas conli hear; but the scout had
‘ not slept an hour, when he suddenly awoke, sat
- up, and; looked out over the water. The moon

had set, and the night was qu'te dark. Stephen

. Alleyne had not heard the least sound except

 the séiight chirp of a cricket. It migh

seem strange to him, if he had thought, that

a cricket should be out on the water; but he had

not thought of that nor had be supposed that
such a little noise could awake the scout.

But , Buck had been awakened by the very
'chirp, and, as he leaned his elbow on the gun-
, Wale looking out on the dark water, the same
.s'na shrill. piercing sound was heard again.
' He re had by a similar chirp, and a canoe shot
. out o the darkness, and came alongside of the

Promised Land. The scout tied the canoe,
I while a tall young Indian stepped aboard and
vacate-l himself, and the inmates of the ark tum-
.ed outoto see the new-comer,

instant, not even the dark eyes of Margaret

 

B “ End they got on your trail, Sachem?” asked
uc .
“ No, I had been with them long enough.”

“ You had done all you could, I reckon, and
learned all you wanted to know. I have heard
of tsome of your doings, and can guess the
res . -

“ Can the Heavy Hand guess these?" asked
the Delaware, as he reached down into the
canoe, and held up two rifles with their equip—
ments.

“ Well, I hadn’t thought of those. Two rifles
must have had two owners, who wouldn’t have
let you carry them away if they had been liv-
ing to prevent it. You can’t have been up
yonder? No; we left three rifles there, and on
haven’thad time to go. I judge, sachem, t at
you have put an end to two more Shawnees. It
is so?”

The Dela ware nodded.

“ Tell us how it was."

Red Hawk briefly related his adventures with
the two warriors who had been left in charge of
the Good Hope.

“ I tell you, sachem, you are a wonderful
man, and have good cause to know it. You
have done more than two men’s work this night,
and the folks at the settlements shall hear of it.
W hat a roasting the SLownees would give you,
if they could only catch you i”

Red Hawk smiled at his friend‘s compliment
especially at the latter part of it, and explain
to Bat Archer, in reply to his earnest inquiries,
the manner in which he had “fixed” the cars
of the Good Hope when the Shawnees started
on their hostile expedition.

“Two more gone,” said Buck Burt, musingly.
“ That leaves forty-five of ’em, according to
my count.”

“ Take 03 five more before morning," replied

Hawk. -

“ How’s that, sacheml”

The Delaware told his friends of the five war-
riors who were to go up the river, to follow the
trail of the three spies who had been killed, and
proposed to go in advance of the five warriors
and lay a trap for them.

‘ “ I am afraid we are too late. There is time
enou h‘before sunrise: but I am thinking they
will “lave too much the start of us.”

“ No. They will follow the trail, and the
trail is old. A canoe has no trail to follow, and
is swift.”

“Perhaps on are right. I hope you are. If
we can get a sad of them, we will belikelyto
give a good account of them. I would be glad
to get those rifles, too. We will try it, sachem.”

All volunteered for this expedition; but the
scout accepted only Bat Archer, whose heart
was hot for revenge. The dink would carry
but three men, and he believed t at three good
white men were a match for any live Shaw-

nees.
Bat took the cars, Red Hawk seated'himself in
the bow, Buck occupied the stem. and the

dinky quietly shot over to the south side of the '

river. There they rowed up—stream along the
bank, the darkifess concealing them from in-
quisitive eyes on the other shore. When the
scout judged that they were opposite the scene
ot the previous night’s encounter, the dinky was

A

 

‘3’?

 -.b_.__..-;__~.-..

 

 

Buck Burt's Pluck.

 

 

headed across the river, landed, and concealed
under some bushes that grew over the bank.

Bat Archer had rowed rapidly. They had
not been much more than half an hour coming
from the ark, and the five Shawnees, as Red
Hawk calculated, had had about half an
hour’s start of them. The dinky had been the
first to reach the spot, as an examination dis-
closed the fact that the bodies of the slain Shaw-

nees remained where they had been concealed. .

It was only necessary to make such arrange-
ments that the five warriors might be secured
with as little ceremony as possible. -

The scout formed his plan immediately, and
ex lained it to his companions. Bidding them
toldde in the bushes and watch their chances,
he descended the bank to the place where the
bodies had been concealed. He knew that the
five warriors would follow the trail of their
friends, which would lend them to the bank
above him, and eventually must bring them
down to the water’s edge. In that event he
meant to attack them in front, while Red Hawk
and Archer would close in upon their rear.

As the Delaware had said, the trail was an
old one comparatively, and the Shawnees were
compe1.ed. especially as it was quite dark, to
follow it slowly. Their foes had been waiting
for them near y half an hour when they came
in sight. In fact, they did not “come in sight”
then, as they were obliged to follow the trail
past the little bend, and then to trace it‘back
until it brought them to the spot where the three
spies had sncamped the prevmps’mght.

As they came out upon the horse-shoe, they
looked around them cautiously, and examined
the ground carefully, turning up the leaves with
their fingers, and scrutinizing every twig and
stick. At last one of them discovered some
s ots of blood upon a leaf. Not content with
the evidence of his eyesight, he smelled the s ots
and tasted them. He then passed the eaf
around among his companions, who grunted in
unison. ‘

A more careful examination of the ground
followed, and it was evident to Red Hawk, who
understood their language, that they believed
their comrades had been killed at that spot. It
remained for them to search for the bodies, and
a trace was found that led down the bank, to
the river. It was then agreed that one of their
number should go down to the river to see what
was to be seen there, while the others should
wait upon the bank.

_ The time had come for Buck Burt to play his
part, and he was ready. Crouching low in his
oncaalment, within reach of the bodies, with
iiis knife in his hand, he waited in silence for his
oe.
Cautious! the Shawnee descended the bank,
looking on feeling for the trail as he went.
Dark as the night was. he did not lose it, and it
brought him to the water’s edge, close to the
place where Buck Burt was concealed. He
raised the bushes under which the bodies lay.
and saw them there in a heap. He put out his
hand and touched them, uttering a low, guttural
eXclamation.

His last breath went with that “u h.” The
grip of the stalwart scout was on 11 throat,

\

- know who have done the work.”

 

compressing his windpipe, and rendering res- 
piration impossible. -

Burt threw the body under the bushes with
the others, and awaited the next development. ,-

Red Hawk and Bat Archer, securelv ooncenl- . L
ed, had watched the Indians on the bank, and . ‘v
waited for Buck to give them the signal to at- I";
tack. Hearing nothing from him, they con- " ’
eluded that all was working well, and that they
must still wait.

The Shawnees, in the mean time, became un-
easy concerning their comrade. They 100 ~
over the bank, but neither saw nor heard any,
thing but the rush of the dark water. They
called him, but received no reply. At last one
of them, the tallest and strongest, if not the
bravest of the five, volunteered to go down and
look for him.

He descended the bank, following the trail as ’
the other had done, and stopped at the little,
pool of blood which the ound had refused to
soak up. Ashe halted, uck Burt sprungu . 4 '
him with a tomnhawk; but the scout’s foot 5 if
ped in the blood, and he missed his blow. 'I e
Shawnee shouted his war-cry, and grappled-with '
his antagonist. ’ ,

Then it was that the immense strength of
Buck Burt came into play, and served him .well. ‘
Dropping his tonlahawk, he grasped the Indian ‘
so that he could not move his arms, lifted him
bodily, and threw him with. great force upon"
the ground. Before the Shawnee could recover,
from the shock, the scout had picked up a tonne
hawk and dashed out his brains. , "

The yell of the Shawnee had startled both his
friends and his enemies. His three companions
hastened to the edge of the bank, to see what
was the matter, Just as Hawk and Bat,
Archer rushed out upon them, the one with a;
tomahawk and the ot er with a clubbed rifle. 
Archer struck for vengeance, and struck Well *
felling his adversary at a blow, and the, Dela:
wars, who never missed his aim. struck equally,
as wdl. The remaining Shawnee, seeing the:
fall of his friends, and believing that he was
surrounded by enemies, turned and fled into the,
woods like a frightened deer. Red Hawk,
ing that he might escape, instantly leveled his
rifle, and shot him down. T

The work was over. The bodies of the Shaw
nees were left where they had fallen, the dink
was brought out from its concealment, the i‘ifiefl
of the slain Indians were placed in 'it,’ and the],
conquerors hastened across the river, just as the-1
gray light of dawn become visible in the east.

“It is not worth wl ile to try and hide now,’,‘ -
said Buck Burt, as the boat drop down along"
the southern bank. “ The yel ing and flrln
have 'ven those red-skins to understand the
somet ing is the matter, and they may as well

 

   
  
  
  
   
 
  
      
   
  
   
  
  
  
 
  
 
    

i

'2 fivn’ air.

“ Ten Shawnees gone ” suggested Red Hawk.

“ Yes, with the two tli t you saved last night.:.
Our work counts u re ty well, and this 
been a dear war-pat or the rascals But there;
are forty of them left, as I calculate, andthoss
are more than we can mans .” "

It was not yet fairly lig t when the party“
reached Stephen Alle ne’s boat, where th
were warmly congratu ted on their victory on
their safe return. i ,

14 Buck Burt's Pluck.

 

CHAPTER VII.
THE OTHER SIDE.

Aims DARNEL was no such fool—«not he, iu~
dealt-as to run the risks that were run by
many emigrants to the new paradise of Ken-
tucky. He was possessed of money and goods,
and e was determined that his property should
reach its journey’s end safely, in spite of the
depredations of marauding Indians.

A thriving merchant, in a small village, he had
Sought the hand of pretty Sue Archer, and his
suit had been debidedly rejected; but he did not
despair, even after her engagement with Stephen

.Alleyne was made public. When he learned
that Mr. Archer and his family were about to
emigraterto Kentucky, he sold out his business,
with the intention of following them. He
changed his intention and preceded them. It
was a risklg attempt to a middle-aged man, such
as Amos arnel was; but, when he thought of
Sue Archer, even his money—getting schemes
were tnrnedtopsy-turvy.

Resolved to run no more risks than were
necessary, he divided his property, sending the
bulkier ortion down the river, on a barge that
was we l-manned and guarded by soldiers.
With his money and a few articles of value, he
took the “wilderness route,” accompanied by u

‘ guide and a hunter.

His plan succeeded in part. His property on
the barge arrived safely at its destination; but
bewas so unfortunate as to meet a party of
Shawnee warriors, returning from an incursion
,into Kentucky. The hunter was killed, the
guide escaped. and Amos Daniel was carried
across the Ohio as a prisoner. With him was
taken such of his “plunder” as the, Indians
chqee to carry away, and his captors compelled
him to bear a load of it on‘ his back until he
reached the Shawnee towns.

C As he was the only captive that had been
taken by the expedition, it was at first decided
,to burn him; but he was not a great brave; in
fee the Shawnee warriors said that there
’ won 6. be no pleasure in burning such a coward.
,  By way of diversion, and for the pur )036 of try-

‘ ring his mettle, they gave him a scan whipping,
and he was eventually sent to the Ohio, with a
uperty of warriors who contemplated making
' war on emigrant boats. .

' When the party reached the river, the object
.of the expedition was explained to the captive,
who was told that it would be necessary for him
"to play the part of a white man in distress,
standing upon the bank while the Indians were
«concealed in the bushes, and thus lure passing
boats to the shore. '
‘ Amos Daruel had not been noted as a mean
man, although, his cowardly nature and his
stingine‘ss in money matters were well known.
Hie feelings at once revolted against such an
act of baeeuess. and he flat] refused to become
a. decoy for the purpose of ending his country—
men into danger. He was. then tied up and
whipped until he promised submission to his
_> ,; masters, and the result of, his first effort as a
" ' doggy has been related.

en he recognized the people on the Good
'Hope, and when he saw Mr. Archer and Tom
, Blodgett shot down and scalped, he perceived

 

‘ 1

     
    

 

the enormity of his deed, and was so overcome

by shame and contrition, that he wished to hide
from the sight of men. But when he saw Sue
Archer brought on shore, and recognized Ste—
phen Alleyne on the deck of the other boat, a
revulsion of feeling came over him. He began
to think that his chances for the possession of
Sue Archer might be better, after all, than if
accompanied by her accepted lover, she be
quietly settled down in Kentucky. In the course
of his years of trading he had had dealin 5, some
of which would not have been sanctione by the
Continental authorities, with the British traders
and agents in Detroit. He believed that his
credit and influence would be sufficiently good
at that post to Secure the ransom of himself and
Sue, and he would not trouble himself particu—
larly with reward to what might be said about
the matter, if he might call the girl his own.
He felt that he was ready to join the Shawnee-s,
to become a foe to his fellow white men, to give
updeverything, even his property, to secure that
en .

He did not see his way clear to the accomplish-
ment of his object; but be supposed that Sue
Archer, together with himself, would be taken
to the Shawnee village, and he hoped that he
would there find opportunity to ingratiafe him-
self with the chief and principal men of the
tribe. In the mean time, as he was not allowed
full liberty of motion, he contented himself with
observing the movements of the Indians.

He saw the action of Red Hawk, that resulted
in the release of Bat Archer. Presuming that
the Indian was a Shawnee, be naturally con-
cluded that there was a traitor in the camp.

He watched the Indian who had so adroitly
effected the release of But Archer, and came to
the conclusion that he was engaged in more mis-
chief. When the Shawnees suspected that there
was a. spy in their camp. and a council was held
to consider the matter, Darnel noticed that the
object of his suspicion was not present at the
count, and he was then sure that his informa-
tion would be valuable to the Shawnee chief.

He sought the chief, who was in command of
the party, and introduced the subject by sayin
that he wished to speak to him on a matter 0
importance.

Senapeo, who had small respect for the tinder.
treated his statements with little attention, until
Dai'nel declared that he had seen an Indian cut
the bonds of the white captive who had escaped,
and that the same Indian had not been present
when the enumeration of the party was taken.

The chiefpalled some of the warriors to listen
to the trader’s account, and as it was generally
believed that some secret enemy had been oper-
ating among them, the matter was thought tobe
worthy of investigation. An' examination was
made of the ground about where Bat Archer
had been seated. in belief ‘that the cut hark
would be found there' but nothing of the
kind was discovered. 'l‘his circumstance told
strong! against the trader’s story; but
he ad ered so stoutly‘ to his statement
and Senapco was so well convinced that
there was treachery somewhere, that it was de-
termined to send a party to scour the woods in
the vicinity of the camp, to search for the place
of concealment of the missing Indian.

The search had. not been long continued,

n A,“ .

 

3.1:.

,, Q
VVK

 

 

1....-. _«d‘ e . .

.-

w.

 

Buck Burt's Pluck,

 

is w 

:_ REM

 

when ' a bowl from the. scouting party pro-
claimed that they had made a discovery, though
it was evident that it was somethin different

‘ from what they had ho ed to find. he soon

returned to the cam , ringing the ies of
the two men who had een left in charge of the
boat, and re rting that the canoe that had
been attache to the boat had disappeared.

Amos Darnel was again examined, with re-
gard tothe dress and appearance of the su
posed spy. As he mentioned the style oft e
moccasins, the warriors who had gone tothe
boat, and who had noticed the“s1gn” in the
mud, nodded to each other and confirmed his
statements.

“Delaware!” ejaculated an old warrior,
whose o inion was entitled to weight.

“A 0g of a Delaware!” angriélvme replied
Senapco. “ It must be Red Haw young
sachem the chief with no people, who has join-
ed the Lon -knives and who goes on the war-

th with eavy hand, one of their great
figures. They are always together, and one of
them may yet be near the camp.”

There could be no doubt that one man had

one off in the canoe; but one set of tracks had
en seen, and the Shawnees thought it likely
that another was concealed on shore. The
scouting-party was again sent out to search for
the supposed enemy. V

This second investigation had hardly been
commenced, when the Shawnees were startled
by the faint sound of a yell, proceeding from up
till; river, quickly followed by the report of a

r e.

The yell had not been repeated, nor had the
rifle-shot been followed by another re rt.
This seemed ominous to the chief, as, i the
Shawnees had been victorious, they would have
raised the scalp-halloo. But it was possible
that the contest was not yet decided, that both
parties were seeking to gain the advantafie, and
a number of warriors were sent 03 at in speed
to the assistance of their comrades.

Still, nothin more was heard from the sup—
posed,sceneo action and all was doubt and
anxiety among the Shawnees, until it was an-
nounced that a boat was descending the river,
under cover of the opposite shore.

It was now daylight. A small boat could

plainly be seen leisurely making its way dewn '
the stream, an all eyes were strained to‘deter- .

mine who and what were its occu nts. There
were sharp-sighted men among t e Shawnees,
and the most experienced warriors Were soon
convinced that the boat contained two persons
who were well known and cularly obnox-
ious to them—Red Hawk, 6 Delaware, and
Heavy Hand the Long-knife scout. The third
was supposed to be the white captive who had
escaped uring the night. _

This discovery helped to explain the recent
untoward events; but there was still a m story
connected with them, that was not exp ained
until the warriors returned from up the river,
reportin the daughters! eight men, whose
bodies t ey had found and buried. No scalps
had been taken, proving to the Shawnees that
the work had been done by Heayy Hand and

. Hawk, neither of whom was in the habit of
taking Shawnee scalps.

‘ 

U

 

Senapco was determined on revenge, and his
warriors eagerly seconded his desire. If they
could obtain possession of two such hated ene-
mies of their tribe as Heavy Hand and Red
Hawk, the mi ht return in triumph, notwith-
standing t eir osses. To achieve this object, it
was necessary that an immediate attack should
be so made that none of the occupants could es- .

ca .

The first requisite was to bring the captured
boat up to the camp, where it could be put in
order and have a air start for an attack. A
sufficient force was detailed to “cordell” the 1
Good Hope along the bank, while others busied.
themselves in preparing cars and sweeps. -

Amos Darnel conceived that this was a good
opportunit for making himself known to Sue
Archer, wi h a view to his plans for the future.
Since he had manifested his friendly disposition
ll? telling what he knew of the presence of Red

awk in the cam , the Indians had allowed him
more liberty, an had treated him with more _
consideration. He had been permitted todress
himself in some rments that had been taken
from the Good ope, and again presented are- ‘ ‘
spectable ap arance. His spirits were raised 3
by the revive of his hopes and his return to de-
cent attire, and it was with a self-sufficient ’1
airlthat he presented himself before the captive _ p
8 1‘ - a . f
It was evident that she recognized him‘; but,
she received him with a look of indi nant oon~
tempt which told him that behind not ing to ex- '
pect from her‘favor. ,

“ Yes I do know you Amos Darnel,” was her
cold re lyto his salutah'on. “I knew you too .
well w en you acted as a tool for these savages, .
to lure our boat to the shore, and to murder my;
father and poor Tom Blodgett, while yams!!!
free and unharmed, strutting about in my mur-
dered father’s coat. ’

“ I didn’t know whose it was,” muttered Dark
nel, reddenin . “ The Indians took eve
from me, an my clothes were tom 03. y the ;
bushes and briers.” ' ‘

“If the lndiens have treated you so,badly, it .
is stran e that you are in such great favor with C
them. on are alive, while my poor father is x. :
dead. You are free, while my mother and I ;’
groggnd, to be carried away to captivity or

so . ' ,
“You need not fear that, Miss Susan. It is :
true that l have made friends with the Indians; "
but it is onlfilfor your benefit that I have done
so. You w be taken totheir village; but I
will find friends amon the English who trade
1with ”them, and then can purchase yourre-
ease. . K

“ Perhaps you mean to say thitnyou would 2
purchase me from them. I can h ly believe '-
that it was for such a urpose you caused my
father to be murdered; at I am afraid of' ’
Amos Daniel. I am afraid that yourfrien shi
would be such as the wolf ,shows the lamb. .‘
There is blood on your hands and it would‘sthin’ e
me if I should touch them. I want no helpfrom .
b19093, kiwi h l '11 t a 1 ' '

‘ ~s eony ep ouw: an 
plied the trader, “an you w_ll be obfilged to
accept it, whetheryou want it or not. ,Your
needn’t look far any help from that host in the

 

 

   
 

 

    
 
 
   
   
    
  
 
 

Mamas? ‘ ‘

Wis—L“

 

   

 

 

ulhots without loading.

. that beat, until they get right aboard of us and

gar-am le. What does the sachem think about
t .
' '- Red Hawk a with his friend, and

' their opinion, which had been advanced rather
- because they wished it to be true, then because

I our chances will be gone.”

’ is my opinion they will try to take this boat, as

:16 Buck Burt's ' Pluck.

 

river; for the Indians will have it, with every
soul on board.”

“ What boat do you mean?” asked Sue, shud-
dering, as a new fear came over her.

“ I mean Stephen Alleyne’s boat. The hair-
brained boy has anchored of! there in the chan-
nel, for no 1purpose but to lose his scalp, and the
Indians wi soon have it.”

“ If on were really a friend, you might
warn him of his danger, and advise him to es-

ca .1,

game] was about to reply, when a warrior
stepped up, who told him that the chief wished
to see him immediately. He hastened to Se-
na , and learned that a runner. who had been
lef at a point up the river, had ‘ust arrived,
brin 'ng the information that anot er boat was
in s ht, descending the river. The trader at
once offered his advice and services to the chief,
for the purpose of capturing the boat.

 

CHAPTER VIII.
'ranY an).

WHEN Buck Burt and his two companions
reached Stephen Alleyne's boat, their first care,
after receivin the congratulations ' of their
friends upon t eir victory, was to partake of
some refreshment that was repared for them
113% the willin hands of argaret Alleyne.

eir next bus ness was, to light their pipes, re-
late their achievements to those who remained
on the boat, and consult with them concerning
the situation of affairs. .

Ste hen Alleyne and Bat Archer were strong-
ly inc ined to behave, since ten of the Shawnees
had been picked ofl', that the might safely risk
an attack from the rest of_ t e party, but Buck
was of quite a different opinion.

“ The odds are much too b yit ” he said.

“ But the boat will hard y be d more than
twenty of the red-skins,” suggested Bat. .

“ True enou h, and we are six men, With nine
extra guns. hat gives us, I believe. fifteen
It would all be very
well, if he had the ’vantage of the red-skins, or
if. we could see them while we shoot our fifteen
shots. But we won’t have a chance at them, on

then, on must know, it Will be a hand—to-liand

Alleyne and Arc er were compelled to abandon

they believed in it.

,“ What are we to do, then?” inquired Ste hen.
“ We ought to try and help our friends on s ore.
The Indians may soon leave the river, and then

“They won’tbe in a hurry, I reckon. The
“chem thinks that they mean to stay about the
riverawhile, until the can get a chance to
strike another blow. hey have lost ten war-
riors, you know, and they would hate to go
home without getting revenge in some way. It

soon as they can make readg”
" And then we will have run awa .”

 

“Like enough; but we can worryt msome
. _ I r

. ,

as we go. As we can do nothing but worry
then}, we ought to do as much of that as we
can. .

“ How can we worry them?"

“ They can’t catch ' this boat without rowing, '

and we may get some good shots at the men
who handle t e swee s.’

“ How will that be p our friends on shore‘l”

“ Not much, I allow. We must try another
plan to help them." '

“ Now you are coming to the point. What
shall the plan be?”

“We must get a force from the settlements.
as I meant to do just before the other boat was
taken. Hawk is a fast traveler, and no
man can find a shorter wa than he can. He
can go to Limestone in a ittle while and the
folks will turn out, I know, with Si Kenton at
the head of them, to break up this gang of red-
skins. Then we can take them on two sides,
and be sure that nobody ets awa .”

“The Delaware must too ' for such
work. He was busy all night, and he has not
slept.” - ~

‘ He is used _to that. He can do without
sleeping and eating, and a bee of things that
are necessary to settlement fol s.”

As Red Hawk was willing, it was settled that
he should go ashore in the canoe, and take the
nearest route to Limestone.

“ Those Shawnees will be watching us'now
sachem,” said Buck; “Since they have fonn
out who has been worrying them they will
keep their eyes on this boat to flu out all we
do and mean to do. I don’t know that there
will be any harm done if they see you, as they
will be likely to think that you have gone over
there to kill a deer: but it will be just a well to

keep out of their sight, if you can manage to do,

so.

The Delaware nodded as he stepped into the
dug-out, and paddled swiftly away, guiding the
canoe so as to keep the ark between him

and the Shawnee camp. His friends watched

him until he had reached the shore and con-
cealed the canoe, and then turned their atten-
tion to the op site bank, where the Indians
were found bus ly engaged in “ cordelling” the
Hope up,the river toward their encam
ment. A portion of them were “tailed on ”
the cable, and were slowly hauling the boat
against the current, while others kept it oi!
from the bank with poles. '

“I su pose you know what that means, Mr.
Allevne, ’. remarked Buck.

“ They mean to make another attempt to at-
tack us, and want to get the boat far enough up
to take a good start.”

“That’s the notion, I reckon. The sachem
was right, as he always is. The seal and
plunder on this boat are mighty tem itigoto

hem, and they don’t mean to go home m at
tryin to strike another blow.”

“ en we will have to run away, and where
will we be when help comes from the settle-
ments?" -

“ Not very far 01!, perhaps. It will take them
some time to rig sweeps and put the boat in
order, and help may come in some wa‘yt before
they are read. 3 to start out. We mustn forget
that we’ve ways got Providence to look to.

. 

- 1!?

a?

Buck Burt’p Pluck. 1"

 

If they chase us down the river, there’s another
thing that mi ht be done."

“ What is t at?” '

“ I judge from what I have seen and heard so
far, that you had rather lose this boat and her
cargo, than lose that girl who is a prisoner on
shore.” -

“ You are right. The boat and cargo would
not be worth thlnking of. I would lose my life,
rather than that she should be carried away by
the Indians.”

“ If it should come to the worst, and we should
see that they were going to drive us too far
away, we might run ashore and leave this boat
to them.”

“ What would we gain by that?"

“ We might take the back track, at the best
speed we could make, and rout up their camp
before they knew what the matter was. If we
could come in the rear of the camp, and take it

‘ by surprise, our chance would be good, as five

men, with fourteen guns, would count in such a
scrimmage as that."

“ It would he a bold move, but dun erous,”
suggested Stephen, with a significant g ance at
his sister.

“ I could hide her where the red-skins would
never find her, butI am free to confess that it
would be a risky business.”

“ I hope you will give yourself no uneasiness
about me,’ said Margaret. “ I can travel as
fast as any of you, and I can use a rifle, too.”

“She’s the right sort—the right sort!” ex-
claimed Buck, whose admiring glance spoke
more than his words.

“ But it may not come to that,” he continued,
as he roseand looked toward the shore. “I was
only speaking of what might be done, if the
worst should he pen, and don’t think it will
come to that. t seems to me that those red-
skins have taken some other sort of a notion.
They have stopped hauling up the boat. and
things look lively about the camp.”

“Some of them have gone further up the
river," said Margaret. _

“ Bless your bright eyes! You see everythm .
There goes another lot in the same direction.
would give something big now, if I had it to
give. to know what’s in the wind.”

“ Here’s our canoe coming back i” eagerly ex-
claimed ‘Bat Archer. “The Delaware is pad-
dling, and there is another man in the cano'e."

“There’s something up now, sure!” re lied
Buck, as he fastened his eyes on the aplproac ing
canoe. “ What! is it possible? As live, that
is Si Kenton in the canoe with him i"

As the canoe touched the ark, Buck gave his
hand to a tall and. muscular man, who lightly
stepped on board. He was dressed in hunter’s
garb, with the usual equipments, and his ap-
pearance was quite prepossessing. Then in the
prime of his life and vigor, he had been for
many years renowned as a hunter and lndian-

fighter, though his mild blue eyes and pleasant .
countenance by no means indicated a blood»

thirsrty disposition. I
“ on seem glad to see me Buck,” he said,
in a soft voice and with a ood-humored smile.
" I am glad. Captain eaten, and so are my
friends here. Where did you drop from?"
“ There are twenty of us out. We are ex—

 

I

pecting a boat down the river. loaded with salt
and other articles, and have come up to meet
her, as we heard that the red-skins are getting
troublesome.” ’

“You have come just in time. Twenty men
can do end work here. Where did you meet
the sac em?"

“ We captured him, or were captured by him,
just below. He has told us a] that has hap-
pened here, and I have a plan b which I think
we can make a clean sweep of t at gang 0! red~
skins.”

“ What is its” ‘

“ I have sent a man up the river. as the boat
can’t be far off, to bring her to land. I must
take on ashore with me, I believe, and leave
Red awk here with your friends.”

" What boat?“ asked the bewildered man.

“ The boat I am looking for. Don’t you see
what I am driving at. man? I want to hrin
that boat to land at some int above here, an

 

 

 

conceal my men aboard'o her. Then we must  ' '

float down so as to give the red-skins a gord
chance to d

it, they ma be pretty badly fooled. If Iley

don’t, we Wil land anyhow near the other heat, w

and take them as we can get them.”

“ That plan ought to work well, if it can be .

done without showing our force. I wouldn’t be
surprised, from the movements of themed-skins
lately;, it they have sighted the heat up he
river. . '
“ Very likely. This craft will he in no dan-
er, until they get that job ofl their hands.

01113, if you want to help. There is no time to '

Alleynevand Archer wished to join the party‘
but Kenton and Burt declared that there wou

be plenty of men without them, and Red Hawk ' 
strongly advised them to remain where they ».

were.

The two scouts went ashore in the canoe; .

keeping out of sight of the Shawnees as much as

possible, and hastened to join their friends. wh » .

were waiting for them in the forest. The party,

then traveled rapidly up the river, and, in less -

than two hours’ walking, came in sight of the
expected boat. which was nearing the land on
the sduth shore.

It was soon made last to the shore, and Ken- I
ton went on board to meet the hoatmen, with i i

whom he was well acquainted, and to whom he

explained his design against the Shawnee m- I
'rauders. - ‘ ‘
As it was probable that the‘Shawnees were"

constantly watching the boat, the men used

at caution on going on board,. so that they , -

s ould not be seen from the opposite shore.
When all were embarked, after a short delay.

the barge was cut loose, and proceeded on her »

way down-stream.

CHAPTER TX.
WINNING AND LOSING.

As Buck Burt supposed, the Indians had
“sighted” the bar e, )e
the white men who ad been sent up to meet t.

Leaving a guard in charge of the camp, in re .

than half had gone further up the river. so that
their operations should not be, hindered by those

ecOy us in to the shore. If they ,do _

fore it came in view of) ‘

 

 

who were on board of Stephen Alleyne’s boat.
Amos Darnel, already high in the favor of the
chief, accompanied them, to play his part in the
expected tragedy. Having reached a favorable
position, they concealed themselves in the for-
est, and the decoy took his station on the bank.

The white men on the barge were not behind
the Indian warriors in making pre rations for
the conflict. They had cut loop-ho esin the side
of the box that covered the boat, through which,
with their loaded rifles ready at hand, they nar-
r rowly watched the woods for signs of their red
enemies. The steersman, in the mean time,
gradually brought the boat closer to the north
shore, and the fiddler on deck continued his
merry music. .

The heavily-laden barge floated well' but it
was not until the afternoon was nearly gone
‘ that she approached the spot where the Indians
were concealed. As soon as she was fairly in
sight, Amos Darnel be an to run up and down
the bank, beckoning an makiugilsignals of dis-
tress. The steersman brought t e barge‘nearer
to the shore and the eager riflemen kept a bright

lookout at the loop-holes.

‘ “ That is the same fellow who brought the
‘ other boat on shore,“ muttered Buck Burt.
*‘fI believe that he ought to be the first man
she .

" Don’t shoot him,” replied Kenton. “ We will
v get hold of him after a while, and I had rather
have him alive than dead.” ,

The boatmen, who had been duly instructed,
called to Daniel as soon as they were within
hailingdistance, and asked what he wanted.
His story was similar to that which he had told
, to Nathan Archer. and he piteously begged them
, to bring the boat to the shore, that he might
get aboard. The steersman, with a swee of
his oar, brought the boat head on towar the
bank, so that he was screened from the Shaw-
nee bullets, and, as the bow touched the
shore, he directed Darnel to jump aboard and
shove 011'. '

But the decoy had already disap eared in
the forest, and in his place. appear a'swarm
of half-naked and painted warriors, who sprun

p Longer-d with terrific yells from every tree an

_ us . ,.

‘ , ' As they reached the bank, before they bad
| time to wonder at the silence that prevailed on
' the barge, or at the fact that no white men

: ,‘were visible, the fire from a dozen unerring

rifles flashed out from the side of the boat, liter-
ally knocking them back and driving them to
the woods. The men who had not flred has-
tened up the bank to pursue the astonished
enemy, and the others swiftly followed them,
:ifftier making fast the boat and reloading their

05-.
\ The Shawnees had been badly hurt as well
as bad] frightened; but they soon recovered

' : from t it scare, perceiving that their oppo-V

nents were not more numerous than themselves,
sought cover behind the trees, and made a reso-

‘IA ' lute stand. ‘

“This is pretty hard work, on tain,” said

K i, . Burt, whose tree was near that be ind which

’ Kepfiont had shfilteg‘edlhimself. h rd fl
, > o enon ; at a hti .
We will get them yet." M g ng

 

Buck Burt’s Pluck.

“ There are more of them about who will soon

be ulg.’ -

i “ at too many for us, I hope. Can‘t you
take half a dozen men and get around behind
them? A brisk attack in the rear would help
our chances greatly.”

“ I’ll try. Hello! What’s up down yonder?”

“ What can it be?”

It was a continuous firing and elling, in the
direction of the Shawnee camp, hat attracted
the attention of the borderers.

“ Don’t you know what’s the matter?” asked
Buck. “It is one of Red Hawk‘s tricks. I
thought it strange that the sachem was so ready
to stay on the boat, but it seems that he had a
plan of his own.”

The firing and yelling were heard by the In—
dians as well as by the white men, and the
effect was such as to produce a sort of panic "
among them. Naturally concluding that a
flank attack had been made upon them, and
that the warriors who had beenileft at the
camp could not come to their assistance, they
allhommenced to retreat, and some of them fled
in “dismay.

This was the moment for the borderers, who
saw their advantage and did not fail to press it.
Cheered on by Kenton and Buck, they sprun
out from their covers and rushed forwar
with yells as wild and ferocious as those 0
the sayages. The retreat was thus turned
into a rout, and the white men hastened to
slaughter their flying foes and prevent them
from rallying.

Most of the Shawnees, in spite of their panic,
had sufficient presence of mind to take the
course that led back to the camp, which the
found deserted, with neither enemies nor frien s
to be seen. As they were driven be ond the
camp, however, further back‘from t 6 river,
they were joined by some of their comrades
who had been left at the camp. These warriors
confessed that they had been seized with a panic,
but did not know who or how many their ene-
mies were.

The main body of the Shawnees, finding them-
selves thus reinforced,. and doubting whether
the flank attack had been anything more than
a scare, were disposed to make a stand: but
their.victorious foes pressed them so closely that
they were unable to unite, and they were still
driven back into the forest.

The white men were as much in the dark as
were the Shawnees with regard to the attack
upon the camp, with the exception, perhaps. of
Buck Burt. who could onlysup that Red
Hawk had been “ up to some of is tricks,” and
dte’colatre that the sachem knew what he was
a u _ _

The two men had stopped to load their rifles
and to rest for a moment, as the' Indians were
in full flight and they were not needed in the pur-
suit. It occurred to them that it was ,growmg
late. It fact, the sun had set, and night was
n idly approaching. .

‘ Hadn’t we better call back the men. Buck?”
asked‘ Kenton.
might scatter.” , ..

‘ Reckon we had, captain. The red-skins

“It is getting *dark, and they

‘ have got enough of it, I'think. But the men are

g};

Buck ,lBurt’s' Pluck.

'19

 

coming back of their own accord. Can any-
thing be the matter, I wonder?”
The first man w ho was met explained the situa-
tion of affairs.
We

“Runnin’l Reckon we are runnin’.

, chased the red-skins ontil they come up on a

fresh lot, and they sent us on the back track
quicker‘n winkin’.”

Kenton soon perceived that the men had
spoken truly. The Shawnees had met another
war-party, just from the north, who had at
once joined them against the common enemy.
As the reinforcement was compose of fresh
men, outnumbering the whites, the latter were
driven hack in their turn, hotl pursued by
their fiery antagonists. The w s were full of
red-skins, and a rapid retreat was the only hope
for the borderers.

Nevertheless, Kenton and Buck Burt succeeded
l1] so far rallying their flying friends, that the
retreat was conducted in an orderly manner.
A dozen of the best men, acting as a rear guard,
kept hack the savages with their unerring rifles,
until all had safely reached the boat.

“ Hold on there!” shouted Buck, as the barge
was about to be cut loose from the bank.
“Stand read with your rifles, boys, and keep
the red-skins ack a little longer.”

In answer toihe wondering inquiries of his
comrades, he pointed to the shore where could
be dimly seen, in the growing darkness, the
figure of a man and a Woman, crouchin under
the bushes. There were Indians behin them,
Indians on each side of them, and Indiansbe-
tween them and the boat, but only the keen
eye of Buck Burt had discovered them.

“That is Bob Archer,” said Kenton, “and
the woman with him must be his mother or sis-
ter. I will take a few men, and make a dash to
bring them in, if the rest of you will cover us
with your rifles." ' ’

Buck Burt had no difliculty in obtaining vol-
unteers. The pioneers of Kentucky never stop-
ped to count the odds when awoman’ was in
danger. In a. few moments the Shawnees, who
were crowding to the river, were astonished by
a sharp volley that was poured into them from
the boat, and then half a dozen men went up
the bank at a run, charging as boldly as if they
had ’a regiment to back them.

Archer, seeing the way clear, and presuming
that the attack had been made for his benefit,
lifted the woman in his arms, and hastened to
the boat. Buck, having accomplished the ob-
ject of his movement, ordered his men to fall
back, and the returned to the boat Without
SPl'lOUS dificu t , protected by the fire of their
friends.

But the Shawnees, angered by seeing two pos-
Sible victims snatched from under their very
noses. and by the very impudent manner in
which a few white men had driven them back,
rushed at the boat in a body, determined on
revenge. Most of the rifles of the white men
were empty, and they were_ in a poor condition
to re 1 this sudden and furious assault. ,

“ his is no joke,” said Buck as he hastily
rammed down a bullet. “We must cut the
rope and take our chances.” , _ _

Bullets were so rapidly rained in upon the
side of the barge, piercing the light plank that

 

formed the shelter, that the white men were‘
compelled to lie down, or to shelter themselves
behind boxes and boards, and were unable \to
return the fire of their antagonists. Their
situation was perilous indeed. At any moment
the boat might touch the shore, in which event
the savages would at once spring on board and
have them at their mercy. o
It was Bat Archer who proved himself the
man for this crisis. Knocking a hole in the
shelter, in the side next to the river, and taking
a rcpe in his hand, he crawled out on the
“ running board,” at the place where the row- ~
boat belonging to the barge was hitched. Per-
ceiving that there were two pairs of ours in the
skill, he called to one of the hoatmen, to whom
he hricfly explained his lan. ’
The two took their p aces in the kiff, fasten- ’
ing the rope to the barge, and rowed of! into ‘
the river, paying out but a. line so as tokeep
the barge between them and the ndians on the.
bank. Having got into the right position, they
pulled with a will, and soon had the satisfaction. _
of seeing the barge change its course and slowly
move out into the stream.

within the influence of another current, which
quickly» bore it out of the reach of arrows or
bullets. The boatmen came out from their con-
cealment and manned the sweeps, andthe

swept safel down the river, until it anchored, K

alongside 0 Stephen Alleyns’s boat.

 

. CHAPTER X.
THE FLANK ATTACK. ,
RED HAWK had made no objection to being
left behind on the boat. when Kenton and Boo
started on the expedition a ainst the Sbs'wnees.
His comrade, who was we] a nainted with his
peculiarities, had wondered at his. but account-
ed for it by supposing that the Delaware ab:

soluter felt the need of rest. ' ' v 

He was right in his supposition. The Dela- '.
were needed rest, and meant to take it: but his
active mind was at work, and he already had a '

lan matured for active operations. Afmrafow
moments’ conversation With Bat Archer, he laid

down on the plank floor of the ark,andwas '1“

asléep in an instant. , . -
Archer, in the mean time, took his station at .
the bow with Steghen Alleyne, and watched for
the boat from w ose coming so much was ei-
pected. As soon as it a cared in sight, far up
the river, he awoke Reel awk. ‘ -

The Delaware had no need to rub his 9‘ es. 

As soon as he was touched he was on his coat, '
wide awake and eager for action. A‘ single
glance up the river told him all that he wished
to know in that quarter, and he turned to Bet,
pointing at the canoe that lay alongside the- ark.
“Come,” he said.

ow. 17
“ I would like to know what this meansfsglig I,

Stephen, as the Delaware stepped into
canoe. and Archer handed him four rifles. I
“ You two have some plan of your own ’I per:
ceive; but I don’t know why you she count
me out. At least tell me what you mean to do! f

Slowly at first, but ‘5'

surely, and more rapidly after a while,wben . "

‘ the hull was fairly started. ‘ I ' "
The barge had sufficient impulse to carry it

“We may go toiwork ‘ 

 

    
 
   
     
 
 
     
   
 

\

r

 

u

 

 

 

V. enemies.

20 Buck Burt’s Pluck.

 

. The Delaware nodded, in reply to Archer‘s in-

quiring glance.
“You have essed well, Stephen,” said Bat.

' “ We have a ittle plan; but we can carry it

out ourselves, and we thought it would be best
for you to stay here and take care of your
sister.”

“That is very considerate, and perhaps you
die rightrbut you may as well tell me the

an.

" It is Red Hawk’s plan. He proposes to go
ashore somewhere below the camp of the red-
skins, and to cree up behind them, so as to be
ready to take a and when our friends at the
river begin to fight. We will each take two
rifles, an hope to give the reds such a volley as
will make a little confusion among them. If
the plan works well, we may be able to get
mothei and Sue out of their hands.”

" The plan is'a cod one, and there is only one
objection to it—t tyou are leaving me out.
Six rifles would be much better than four, and
you know very well that I have a personal in-
terest in the matter."

As Red Ha wk did not object, Stephen Alleyne
’was permitted to make one of the party. But
Archer, under the direction of the Delaware,
rowed uartering down the river, striking the
north s ore conSiderably below the boat. The
canoe was hauled up and concealed, and the
three men struck out into the'woods, each carry-
ing two rifles.

he Delaware, by the tacit consent of his com-

. panious. took command of the expedition, and

led the way to the Shawnee camp. approaching
it from the lower side, a little to the rear. The
Indians had a fire burning, the smoke of which
would have guided them to the spot, had Red
Hawk not been well acquainted with the
locality.

But the guide knew every foot of the ground,
and he was not likely to miss his way, anxious
as he was to strike the unsuspecting Shawnees
a hard blow. Archer and Alleyne, eager for re—
venge and for the rescue of those who were dear
to him, followed in the steps of their leader, and
obeyed his directions implicitly.

Reaching the edge of the slope some fifty
yfirds from the camp-fire, they concealed them-
se ves in the bushes, and looked down on their
On the side of the fire next to them
were eight ShawneeSusome Seated, some 1 ing
down, and one standing. Only two of t em

‘ had their guns within reach and it was evident

that they were entirely unsuspicious of danger,
expecting anything rather than an attack in the
rear.

On the further side, perhaps two hundred
yards from the fire, was a sight that made Bat
Archer’s eyes flash, and caused Stephen -Alleyne’s
heart to beat quicker. Mrs. Archer and Sue
were seated there. on a little ‘hillock, unbound,

: guarded by four Indians.

They were waiting for the sound of rifle-shots

from above. for the scalp—halloo and the yells of ‘

triumph that would proclaim another victory
achieved by the basest of stratagems over their
hated enemies, the whites. ,

They were not the only men who were wait-
ing. 0n the brow of the southern slope that
b0 the ‘camp, concealed by a thicket of

was stopped by a. crow

 

bushes, were two white men and a Delaware
Indian, crouching like panthers for n sp'ing,
their hearts thirsting for vengeance, each curry-
ing two deaths in his hands, waitin: for the
guns that were to tell of the conflict on the
river.

The signal came at last. The sharp crack of
rifles was heard, follOWed by yelling and shout-
ing; but the sounds were not such as the waiting
Shawnees had expected to hear. Instead of
yells of triumph, they listened to their com-
rades’ cries of rage and dismay, mingled with
the cheering of a large body of white men.
They sprung to their feet, certain that their
friends had been caught in a trap, but not
knowing whether to go to their assistance or to
remain where they were.

Red Hawk and his companions profited by the
surprise and irresolution of their enemies to gain
a position nearer to the camp-fire, where they
leveled their rifles, each marking out a victim
with unerring aim.

Three rifles cracked from the bushes, three
bullets sped on their work of death, and three
Shawnees fell to the ground. Archer and
Alleyne loaded as quickly as possible, while the
Delaware used the three remaining rifles With
fatal effect.

The Indians at the foot of the slope ran for
their guns and fired a volley into the thicket;
but they continued to fall under Red Hawk’s
well-directed fire, and the remnant, believm
themselves attacked by a strong force, turn
and fled hastily.

Not quite so badly frightened were those who
were guarding the captives. They fired at the
thicket, and seemed determined to stand their
ground. But by this time three rifles were
again loaded, and Red Hawk and his com-
panions dashed down the slope while the guns of
their fees were empty.

Two of the gua s instantly fled; but two re-
mained. One of these threw his tomahawk at
Mrs. Archer, who had broken away at the
sight of her friends, and had run toward them.
Arifle cracked as the tomahawk flew by her
head. and the Shawnee fell. The next instant
the old lady was in the arms of her son.

Sue Archer. in the mean time, was struggling
to free herself from the remaining Shawnee.
who was striving to drag her away with one
hand, while with the other he threatened her
with his tomahawk. Alle ac and the Delaware
could not shoot for fear 0 killing her, and they
pressed forward anxionsl , every moment ex-
pecting that the sava e would fulfill his
threat.

Suddenly a new actor appeared upon the
scene. A white man—ore man with a white
skin, and in the garb of civilization—came
running through the woods. He seized the girl.
and, with the help of the’lndian, hurried her of!
into the forest.

Alleyne fired his rifle, uselesslv, and hastened
after the fugitives with Red Hawk; but they
had made only a little gm s, when their way

0 retreatingShawnees,
at the sight of whom they were compelled to
fall back as speedily as ible. Reachin the
spot where Bat Archer ad been left Wit his
mother, they found themselves out of the w

r

h

,3

A”

if:

Buck Burt’s Pluck.

21

v.

 

of their enemies, and halted a moment to con-
sult to ether.

“ Di you see that white man, Bat?” hurriedly
asked A leyne.

“The man who ran off with Susan? Yes.
Didn’t you kn0w him?”

“I thought I did, but was not sure.”

“It was Amos Daniel, the same man who de-
coyed our boat to the shore."

‘ The scoundrel! I would not have thought
that he could be so mean. I would have had his
life, if we had not run into such a crowd of
Indians. Were they not running from our
friends, Red Hawk 2”

(I Yes.”

“And they are running yet. Come on! We
must not lose a chance. Bat the way to the
river is open now, no doubt. and you had better
take your mother to the boat. Come on, Red
HaWkl”

The Delaware endeavored to persuade his
eager companion to await a few moments, until
they could get a clearer idea of them-tual posi-
tion of affairs; but Alleyne was already off, and

'Red Hawk, unwilling to leave him in danger.

had nothing to do but to follow him.

After a little brief running, they again caught
sight of Sue Archer, who was being partly
dragged and partly carried by the white man
and the Shawnee; but they found themselves, as
Red Hawk had feared, in a dangerous position.
They were, in fact, in front of the retreating
Shawnees, who were between them and the then
victorious white men; but they heard the cheer-
ing shouts of their friends, the knew that the
Indians were running, and they ad good reason
to hope that they might kee in front of the
runaways and rescue the gir without serious
difliculty. _ Not daring to fire, they ran at the
top of their peed, the Delaware being obliged,
in hunter's hrase, to “keep his eyes in the back
of his head, ’ while Stephen saw only the strug-
gling girl and the men who were carrying her

. away.

Sue Archer saw him coming to her rescue.
and uttered scream after scream as she struggled
yet more violently to break away. Amos Dar-
nel saw him, too, and recognized him, and the
sight struck him with a sudden fear. Dropping
the girl’s arm, he only exerted himself to fly
from the aVenger. The Shawnee saw the ur-
suers, and knew that he must fly for his He
but he was determined not to be again baffled 0
his victim. He had raised his tomahawk over
her head, when a bullet from Red Hawk’s rifle
sped through his brain and stretched him lifeless
on the cart .

Stephen Alleyne rushed forward and seized
the girl in his arms as she fainted. He would
have sto pad to endeavor to revive his helpless
burden' ut the Delaware was at his side. and
directed him to hurry forward with her, bearing
gradually to the left, until he could get out of
the wa of the retreating Shawnees. He then
lifted er in his arms, and ressed forward as
rapid] as he could, while Hawk trotted be.
hind im, loading his rifle as he went, and
watching for enemies in the rear.

Sue Archer was light. and Stephen Alleyne
was strong. He bore gradually to the left, and

_ was congratulating himself upon being nearly

 

out of danger, when his ears were stunned by a
series of horrid yells, and he saw that he was
surrounded by inted savages.

As he was Seized and disarmed, he heard the
glad shouts of the retreating party, as they
recognized their friends, and as they turned
back, ea er to take vengeance on their assail-
ants. e looked for Red Hawk, but the Dela-
ware was nowhere to be seen.

 

CHAPTER XI.
BUCK Buar’s scour:

Ir was not until Bat Archer was safe on board
the Promised Land, that his friends requested
him to give an acoount of his adventures. His
mother was so overcome by the loss of her hus-
band, by her captivity, and by the terrible
scenes that had attended her rescue, that he was
compelled to devote himself to takin care of
her, and he was left in quiet during t e voyage
down the river.

When Mrs. Archer had been conveyed on
board the Promised Land, and placed in cha e
of Margaret Alleyne, the young man ave t e
pgrticulars of the exhibition, as far as e knew

em.

“I told Captain Kenton that it was one of
Red Hank's tricks,” remarked Buck Burt. “ I
said so as soon as we heard the shooting down
by the camp. It was right well done. and it
was done just in time. Do you say that Stephen
and the Delaware left you just after those run-
ning red-skins had got near the camp?” ‘

“ They had started into the woods after Susan
and Amos Darnel, but had got tangled up with
the Indians, and .were glad to V
the way. When they left me. tephen wanted
to get ahead of the Indians who were running.
The Delaware tried to hold h.m back a little, but
Stephen was not to be stopped.”

“ I take it that they must have got the red-
skins that we were chasing between-them and
us, and it’s likely that they ran upon the fresh
batch of Shawnees that came in from the north.
W‘l‘iaYt do think, Cfilpl’flnl”' , 1 d K ’to

on are ri t. suppose, ’ rep ie en 11,
“and one or boéi'
or killed.”

“One of them, I reckon. I don‘t believe
either of those things has happened to the
sachem yet. He kee eyes in the back of his

head, as well as in t e front, and is not tobe '

hlinded on either side: but Stephen was apt to
keep his sight on the gal without lookin
fully to see what he might run into. es, it’s
likely that the red-skins have caught Stephen
Alle as. His sister on ht to be told about it,
but had rather not bet e man to tell her.” '
Buck Burt was saved mm further fperEIeXIty
by the apjproach of Margaret hersel , w
overhear the latter part of the conversation.
Her countenance was pale, tut firm, and her
§oic§ did not tremble as she addressed herself to
no . _
“ Do I understand you to say," she asked.
“ that you believe thatm . brother has been on
tured or killed by the In ians?” '»
“ We are afraid that the red>skins have caught
him ” replied the scout, drooping his head. ‘
When he raised his eyeS, he found those 91 ’

et back out of '

of them must have been taken _

0 had. ,

,x

i .

 

 

22

Buck Burt's Pluck.

 

Margaret Alleyne’s fastened upon him with an
inquiring gaze.

“Yes ma’am,” he said. “You are right
about that. .That is what I was meaning to

o.“

“What do you mean?" asked Bat Archer.
“ Margaret said nothin .”

“Perhaps not; but know what she means.
No one can say that Buck Burt ever left a.
.friend when there was a chance to help him.
I was just thinking of the best way to do it.
I must go ashore, of course, and find out what I

can. .

A fateful glance from Margaret told him
that is offer was appreciated. No objection
was made by any of the party to his undertak-
ingascout on shore, and be seated himself in
Stephen Alleyne’s dinky, after declining the
company of Bat Archer.

As he took u the oars, Margaret came to him
‘ guilt laid her and on the stern of the little

on .

“ I know that I ought not to have asked you
to do this.” she began.

' “ You didn’t ask me, ma’am. I know that I

ought to do it, and I asked myself. I hope you

don't think that I needed any asking.”

. “ I alread know how good and generous you
are. I oug t not to let you go; but Stephen is

my only brother, and is all I have in the

world.” ‘

“May he live long to comfort you. Don’t
bother yourself about my going ashore. This is
a my business, and I attend to it as such.”

“ Give me your hand.”

The scout reached out} his broad, brown hand,
'which Margaret Alleyne raised to her lips, and
dressed upon it a kiss—a kiss of gratitude, of
admiration. perhaps of love.

Buck Burt dropped his oars into the' water,
and the skid shot away into the darkness like
- an arrow, the rower carryinga sweeter memory
. than he had ever known before, and feeling
nerved to perform his task; in the face of any
danger or hardship.

Bat Archer had directed the scout to the
place where the canoe had been left when he
went ashore With Stephen Alleyne and Red
, Hawk, and toward that point Buck Burt rowed

silently and swiftly. The night was quite dark;
.- but he had taken his course from the boat, and
r ' the darkness was rather a help than a hin-

drance, as it concealed him from the Indians.

‘ l’e landed the dinky, and drew it up into the
, bushes, near where the canoe was concealed, in-
tending to tow the latter to the boat on his re-
turn. He then struck into the woods, taking
the same route by which Red Hawk led his

party in the afternoon, and reaching the Shaw—
nee camp, as the Delaware had, at the lower
side and a little to the rear. ‘

I The darkness was such that he was able to

crawl within a short distance of the Indians
without fear of being observed; but the dark-
ness was also a serious Wiment to his inves-
, tigations, as it preven him from seeing all
that he wished to See.

_ He was able to discover that there was a con-
siderable body of Indians in the camp; but he
could not ascertain their numbers With any
certainty.

I "

 

They were all quiet, seemingly reposing, with
the exception of a few sentinels who were sta-
tioned on the outskirts of the camp, and who
did not seem inclined to venture from their
posts. They had good reason to believe, no
doubt, that they need not fear an attack from
the Long-knives, and all were enjoying the rest
which they so much needed.

As Buck surveyed the sleeping encampment,
he wished that he had fifty Kentuckians there.
He would keep them hid until daylight should
give them good marks, and then their rifles
would carry death to fully half the sleeping
savages. One fire and a bursting charge would
be suflioient to rout and scatter them.

He was satisfied with the observation he'had
been able to make concerning the numbers of
the savages. They were too numerous to be at-
tacked, and that was sufficient. He had crept
so close to the, camp that he had found himself
among the sleeping Indians; but he had seen
nothing of Stephen Alleyne or Red Hawk. He
felt that he could not return to Margaret with—
out: carrying her some tidings of her brother,
and it was also important that he should get
some inkling of the designs of the Shawnees.
Neither of these objects could be accomplished
while the darkness lasted, and it would be ne-
cessary toprosecute his inquiries by daylight,
although the risk Would be greatly increased.
He determined to go down to his boat, and wait
there until the day should dawn.

As he approached the spot where the dinky
was concea ed, he was startled at seeing the
dark figure of an Indian seated on the bank.
Instinctively he stopped, and raised his rifle.
It might be a Shawnee, who had discovered the
boat, and he was waiting for the owner to re-
turn, that he might shoot him down; or it
might behis friend Red Hawk. If it was the
former, he kept a very careless watch; if the
latter, he could easily discover the fact.

He ave the chirp of a cricket. The Indian
starte , and uttered a similar chirp.

“ Does the sachem watch with his eyes shut?”
ask? Buck, as he advanced and extended his

an . A

“ Red Hawk has no need of eyes to watch the
dogs of Shawnees,” replied the Delaware, rising
to meet his friend.

“Some of our friends were afraid that the
sachem had been caught by the Shawnees; but
I knew him too well for that; He must tell me
what has happened to him.”

The Delaware’s account of his adventures cor-
responded with that of Bat Archer, up to the

.time when the latter separated from his two

companions. \He then related the pursuit of
Susan Archer, concluding with the capture of
Alleyne. _

“And you slid out, of course.” exclaimed
Buck, “when you ran up against that fresh lot
of Shawnees. The boy couldn’t do it, as he had
the girl on his hands; but I’ll be bound that you
got out of the way. Did any of them see you,
sachem?” -

“Don’t know."

“If they did, they didn’t see you when they
looked for you again. I must say, Sachem, that
you’re the tested bend at snaking I, ever

News“-.- 21¢...A« an... MA. 
g. . .

an” no:

. 1.. 13mg“;

 

 

 

.-. a. . mam.

mun...“  A..,..»..i.ms.=....m 

Buck Burt's Pluck.   I as

 

 

came across. Do you know where Stephen is
now?”

“ With the Shawnees.”

“ Have they hurt him i”

“No. He is in the middle of the camp, tied
hard. and I can’t get at him yet.”

“ Perhaps something can he done in the morn-
ing. Something must be done to save that boy.
The Shawnees must not have his life while I live
to prevent it. I had made up my mind to wait
until daylight, and I am glad that I have found
you, as We can now work together.”

“No, the Heavy Hand must go back to the
boat. I will do what I can for the young
man.” ‘ .

“ I don’t doubt that: but I might be] you.”

“ Heavy Hand is a great warrior. is‘arm is
strong in battle, and his heart is always brave;
but his skin is white, and he cannot creel}; men
the Shawnees as Red Hawk can. Besi es, he s
needed at the boat.”

“ Why so?”

“The Shawnees have a boat, you know and
they want more scalps and plunder. They ave
lost man warriors, and they must have reven e
before t ey can go back to their village. 0-
morrow the will make cars and get their boat
read to fig t on the river. "

“ ow doas the sachem know this?”

“ Red Hawk has eyes and ears.”

“That’s a fact, and he knows how to use them
if any man does. We may look for them, then,
tomorrow night, and it won’t do to give them
our scar , however anxious they may be to get
them. suppose I ought to go back to the boat;
but I hate to leave without doing anything for
Stephen.”

“ I will do all I can to help him. Perha
Heavy Hand might help him better on t e
river."

“ I don’t see my way clear to do that; but I
know that I can re] on you, and I will go.
May the Lord be wit you and help you, Red

, Hawk l”

Buck Burt ressed the hand of his friend,
launched the inky, and rowed across the dark
lvarietal- to the boat: towing the canoe behind

m.

 

CHAPTER XII.
BAT ARcann’s PLAN.

WHEN Buck Burt reached the Promised Land
he was met by Margaret Alleyne. He perceived
that there was a 00k of pain in her face, al-
thou h she greeted him with a smile, and
hf a most wished that he had reinained on
s ore. \

“ You needn’t ask me any uestions," he said,
as he made last the dinky. ‘ I know what you
want to ask, and that is enough for me, and a.
little too much. I haven‘t even seen him, Miss
Margaret.” . _

“ Can they have killed him?”

“He is alive, I believeI and not hurt."

“ I believe you have done all you could do."

“ And that is nothing, so far. But Red Hawk
is there, and the sachem [8 worth two or me in
such business. He will do all he can for Ste hen
and he gave me to understand that I won] he
more in his way than a help. I wanted to stay

/ I 

until daylight, when my eyes would be of some '
use to me; but he thought I had better come
back to the boat. -

“I reckon the sachem was ri ht,” he contin- \
ued, after relating what he be seen and what i
he had heard from Red Hawk. “ We may 91- \
feet a visit from the red-skins before long, and '

must talk to the men about it, thOugh it will
hardly be worth while to break their rest now.
You may rely on Red Hawk, Miss Margaret,
and I believe he was right in thinking that
_ he could do more without me than with me.” ‘

In the morning a “ council of war” was held
on the barge, at which Buck told the particulars
of his scouting expedition, and informed his ‘;
friends of Red Hawk’s opinion concerning the
probability of a water attack by the Shawnees.

“It, is plaintome,” said Kenton, “that we
can’t fight them here. Theg are too man for -
us,'and we should gain no a vantage b ivid-
ing our men between the two boats. 6 could
do them no damage worth speaking of, until we
should meet them hand to hand, and then their
numbers would be bound to win. I see nothing
for it but to cut and run.”

“ There’s one other plan that might- be tried."
suggested Buck, who seemed to be more in-
clined to rashnéss than he had been b ifore Mar— '
gret Alleyne’s brother was captured. “ When

ey get fairly out in the channel, we might all
hurry ashore and make for their camp. We
would have the red-skins divided then, and we
might whip out the party on shore before the
other party could come to help them. I think “
we would be a match for either party.” . .

“That is a brave man’s thong t,” replied
Kenton, opening,- his eyes wide at this daring,
suggestion. “ we were all men, and if we , '
be. small boats enough to take us all ashore at
once I would be willing to try it, though we u
would have to whip, or every man of us would
be wiped out. But we have not the boats, Buck, >-
and I don't know what we would do with the.
women” .‘ s , \I r .

“ Send them down the river on the harge.”x,

“ We would have to send some men with them, ‘ t
and not one could he s ared. Your ideas are a ' '
little flightv, Buck, an we must think of some, w
other plan. ’ l . g

“ I think I have a better idea than that,
though it they be a wilder one,” said Bat Archer.
“If you will step on the other heat with me,
Captain Kenton—you and Buck—I will tell it to’ _
yap, privately, as I don’t want to he laughed
a

 

   
 
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
    
   
   
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
 
 
 
 
  

.13

Kenton and Buck Burt smilineg accompanied 
the young man to the Promised Land and sat
down wh e he explained his plan in a low tone.’
Kenton’s eyes opened wider than they had at
'Buck‘s proposition, and the burly scout clapped -
his hands in glee. ‘ .« .

"‘ Do you suppom, Mr. Archer, that Stephen,
Alleyne would agree to it?” asked Kenton. '

“ Of course he would. You can speak to his -
sister, if you wish to, and I will guarantee that ;
she will give her consent.” ~ I '

“ Perhaps we had better not trouble her.
Your lan is the last thing I would have thought,
of, an I believe it is the best thing that could
be thought of. It ma be wild, but this is a» -

 

wild conntxy,and wil deeds are needed," It ‘

 
 

my,

 

 

\

 

 

 

JV“ ..

 

. ous. Ever

A . the islan

Indiana Cam in he fled. Hem;

84

Buck I Burt’s Pluck.

 

Ihall be carried out, unless the men object to it,
and I think it will suit them exactly." ‘

After breakfast the men set at workto re-
move the goods and furniture from Stephen
Alle ne’s boat to the bargf. They had had a
g rest and a good men , and were stron er
and more hopeful than they had yet been. he
barge, already heavily loaded, would not hold
all the contents of the ark; but the most valu-
able articles were safe] y stowed, and accommo-

‘dations were provided for Mrs. Archer and

Margaret. '
This work was completed early in the after-
noon, and the men rested, while they watched

the operations of the Indians on the shore above

them. Not much could be determined with cer-
tainty; but they could see the savages moving
about the bank and could tell that they were
employed upon the Good Hope. No attack was
made, and none was expected before night.

The evening passed and dusk came on.

“It is time to be moving,” said Buck. “All
who are going on the barge must get aboard."

“ Who is tostay here?” asked Margaret.

“ I am to stay,” replied Bat Archer.

“ And I am to stay with him,” said Buck.

“ I don’t see the use of that. I can do all that
is to be done here, and it may be a little danger-
man will be needed, and all who
can should cop out of danger.”

“You are ri ht, young man. There ma be
a little danger: ut it is important that t ere
should be no mistake in this matter. and two
heads are better than one, to say nothing of an
extra pair of hands. You may need help, and I
mean to stay and help you.”

No one objected to the scout’s determination,
with the exception of Bat Archer, who was
easil induced to withdraw his objections. As
the s ades of night came on, the barge was cast
loose, and floate slowly down the stream until
it had passed an island a mile below the rom-

' ised Land. .The sweeps were then called into

use, b 'inging the boat into a position just below
, where she was anchored, effectually
screened from the view of both friends and foes

up the river.

Buck Burt and Archer, who had nothing to

do but await the movements of their enemies,

lighted their pipes, and took their station at the
bow of the ark, gazing intently u the river, to
notice the first sign of motion on t a part of the

savages.
When night had fairly settled down upon land

I and water, the clouds were not as dense as they

had been the previous night. The moon occa-
sionally shone out through the rifts, giving the
Watchers a glimpse of the broad expanse of
water, and the dark outline of the north shore,
where the Good Hope could be seen lyin mo-

'. tionless against the bank, with the dark orms

of the savages moving about her.

They had watched nearly two hours without
seeing any indications of movement above, when
Archer perceived something in the water, to
which he called the attention of his companion
in a low tone.

“ It looks like a man's head,” he said.

“That’s what it is.”

“ He is swi nmin: or fioatin . It must be an

i

 

“ No. He would have given a signal. That
is a Shawnee.”

“ How nicely I could hit him i”

“ Don’t you do it. The red-skins have seen
the barge go down the river, and have senta
spy to find out whether any men are left on this
boat. He don’t do his work like Red Hawk
would do it; but we must let him have his way.
Don’t act as if you see him. I will keep an eye
on him, though I ah sure he will not try to
trouble us.”

The Indian swam around to the stern of the
boat, raised himself up and looked in, while the
two white men smoked in silence. He then
swam to the side and looked in there. Satisfied
with his observation, he floated down the river
ahshort distance, and then struck out toward the
s ore.

and looke around. “He will report to the
redskins, and they will be down on us before
lon , I reckon.” .

T e pipes of the watchers were smoked out,
and Bat Archer had grown quite impatient,
before they observed any further movement on
the part of their enemies. It had becnme quite
dark, the thick clouds entirely obscuring the
moon and blotting out the view of the shore.
They were not a little surprised when the mild
luminary at last showad her face throu h a
break in the clouds, and they dcscried the cod
Hope in the middle of the channel,bearing down
upon them. -

“Now is our time I” exclaimed Bat Archer,
jumping  “Now we will fix the bloody
sconudrelsl u

“Not so fast, my friend. We would have
time enough to get away, if we should wait till
they are right aboard of us, and we can‘t afford
to miss our aim.”

Buck waited until the dark figure of the
Good Ho could be distinctly seen not a bun-
dred yo. s from the Promised Land. Then he
led the way through the boat, and  up at
the stern, watching the approaching enemy,
while Archer busied himsel With something
under the shelter.

“ Nowl” whispered the scout, after the lapse
of a few moments.

Something fizzed and crackled, and the two
men quickly jumped into the canoe and shoved
ofl'. paddling directly down the river, so as to
keep in the shadow of the ark as long as
possible.

They had ioue but a short distance, when they
heardacras which told them that the boats
had come together, and they saw the Indians
jumping on board the Promised Land, uttering
yells and cries of rage as they discovered that i
was untenanted and nearly empty.

In another moment the savages had discov-
ered the fugitives in the canoe, and shot after
shot was at them; but the current was
swift, and they had paddled so rapidly that they
were nearly out o danger, and the bullets
splashed harmlessly into the water.

“How the thing hangs fire!” exclaimed Bat
Archer. “ Can it be possible that it will miss

fire?”
“ No! The train was laid and fired too well
for failure.” In another moment. while the

“ He is ‘gone,” said Buck, after he had got up

JV

..._...__._-.:... u. a!

an.

“than- .4, 4 e. l. 

Buck Burt’s Pluck. 2K

 

savages were crowding each other on the roofs
of the two boats that lay side by side, there
was a grand explosion, and a mass of flame and
and smoke rushed up into the air. , The explo-
sion was accompanied by yells and shrieks,
was followed bya downward rush of miscel-
laneous fragments, scattering themselves over
the surface of the water, some falling around the
canoe, which was tossed as if on the waves of an
earth make.

“I ope you are satisfied, young man," said
Bert. “ If that is not revenge for your father’s
death, I don‘t know what more you would
have.”

“ It could not have been done better. I verily
believe that both boats were blown to atoms.
Let us hurry down to the barge, as our friends
will be anxious about us.” '

The paddled swiftly and in silence, neither
speak [1% again until hey reached the barge,
where t eir friends were waiting to congratu-
late them.

 

CHAPTER XIII.

A ONE-SIDED BARGAIN.

Ir Stephen Alleyne did not feel, like the man
who fel from the house, very much “ discour-
aged,” he had reason to feel so, and perhaps a
little worse, when he was captured by the Shaw-
nees. Hisetprize had been in his grasp, and he
had deem himself just within reach of safet ,
when dhis hopes were so cruelly dashed to t e
groun . ‘

His captors kicked and cufled him unmei'ci-
fully as they dragged him along; but the aches
and smarts of his body were nothing to the pain
and anguish of his mind, when he again saw
the girl of his love a prisoner in their hands, and
felt himself unable to help her.

When the exoitement of the combat had sub-
sided, and the white men in the barge had safely
got out of the reach of their enemies, he was
taken to the camp, where he was securely fas-
tened for the ni ht his limbs being so bound
down to the sort that it was impossible for him
to move. Hisposition was very painful, and he
knew that esca was out of the question as, if
he should be ab 6 to free himself from his onds,
he could not hope to escape the Indians who
la around him on all sides.

ight closed down upon the camp, and the
savages slumbered sonorousl ; but it was long
before sleep visited the e ch 5 of the prisoner,
and then it came only in tful snatches, the in
of his tightly-corded limbs awaking him w en-
ever he fell into a doze. ‘

As he started out of one of his dozes, he heard
the chirp of a wood-cricket, that seemed to pro-
ceed from a thicket of bushes near the ed of
the camp. There was nothing remarkab e in
this; but be remembered hav ng been told by
Buck Burt that the cherp of a cricket’was a
favorite signal of Red awk. He had seen
nothing of the Delaware since his capture, and

supposed be had escaped. The chirp was ut- ,

tered three times, and then ceased, and Ste hen
believed that he had a friend. He conl not
imagine how his friend would be able to help
may: bgt it was a comfort to know that he had
a on .

what she said concerning the pitiable situation

 

Sue Archer was in trouble, as well as her
lover. She had been almost resigned to her fate
——or rather, she had nearly despaired of escap-
ing from it—when she saw him rushing to her
rescue. When she fell into his arms, it was ex-
cess of joy that caused her to faint, as much as
her fati no and her fright. She was still insen-
sible w an he was seized and dr ed awa :
but, when she came to herself, she fife t that he
was a prisoner, and it was not long before she
was convinced of the sad fact. Her own captiv-
ity, and the dread of her own fate were painful,
enough; but it redoubled her grief and anxiety
to know that Stephen Alleyne was also a cap—
tive, that he had been taken while he Was en-
deavorin to rescue her, and that his fate must
be terrib e in the extreme.

When she was taken back to the camp, ‘she
was not only more securely guarded, but was
bound. She passed a restless, if not a sleepless
night, and awoke in the morning with a deeper
feeling of misery than she had yet experienced.
It was really a relief to her, much as she dis-
liked the man, when she saw Amos Darnel com-

ing toward her. She knew that he had influ— , .

ence with the Indians, and she did not believe
that he could be entirely destitute of heart, of
sympathy for his own race. She would bumble
herself to sue him for mercy, not for herself, but.
for Stephen Alle ne.

Amos Darnel ad been rising rapidly in the
favor of the savages. He had pleased them by
showing such alacrity in decaying the be eto
the shore although that aflair had resul so
badly. fie had not failed to ma nify his ser-
vices in preventing the rescue 0 Sue Archer,
and had induced the Shawnees to believe thatho
had performed a very daring action. He had
also induced the chief to believe that he intend~
ed to become an Indian, and that he would
make a very ood Indian. It was after a con-
versation wit Sena co that he approacth Sue
Archer, and he was 11 a fitting mood to listen to ‘ -
her appeals. It would be much better for him.
in many ways, to have a willing than an un- .
willin bride, and he thought that he saw hir‘
way c ear to work upon her feelings in regard :
to Ste hen Alleyne. ,

She erself opened the way. He agreed to

  

of her lover, and the necessity of showing
mercy. In fact he went further than she went,
and inted the orrors of Indian torture very,
vividly. It wo id be impossible for Stephen to,
escape those tortures, he said, unless the ndians
could be induced to let him go. When she re-
ferred to the influence that he seemed to have
among the Shawnees, he admitted it. undon-
larged u n it a little. At last he made, an
ofler in p in words. .

“ If I save the life of Stephcn Alleyne "he.
said—“ if I procure his release from the ndians,
and if I carry you safely to the settlements
Somewhere—it don’t matter where—Will you
promise to be my wife?” ..

It was hard for the girl to answer this ques-
tion. She knew that te hen would not accept
his life upon such terms; ut she saw no other.
chance for his escape from a cruel death. He
was uppermost in her thoughts, and she feared ,
no future if she might save him.

 

  

 

 

, and again showing his club.
L. of the chief.

26

   

“ Unless you agree to this, he must dial” said
Daniel.

The girl begged and implored him for easier
terms; but Darnel would consent to no modifi—
cation of his offer and at last, with a hopeless
heart and a broken voice, she yielded her con—
sent.

“ Swear to it,” said Dame], and he exacted a
solemn oath for the fulfillment of her promise.

“ To—night,” said he, as he left her, “ Stephen
Alleyne will be free, and it will not be long
before I will take you to a place of safety,”

It must be here set down tothe discredit of
Amos Darnel that he did not intend to perform
his- part of the agreement. While he was anx-
ious that Sue Archer should, consent to become
his wife, he was not anxious that her lover
should live, and he knew that his influence with
the Shawnees was not such as would allow him
torob them of a victim, when the expedition
had cost them so many warriors. In truth. he
meant to deceive the girl into the belief that
Stephen was safe, and then escape with her
from the Indians.

Early in the night he went to the place where

.Stephen was confined, carrying the war—club of

the chief, as a token that his commands were to
be obeyed. The greater part of the warriors
were at the river, preparing for the expedition
in the Good Hope, and he had been intrusted
with the war-club by Sena co, to whom he had
communicated as much 0 his design as suited
him.

Showing his club to the warriors as his war-

" rant for what he was about to do, he stooped

down and cut the bonds of the prisoner.

Stephen Alleyne with difficulty raised himself
to a sitting posture, and gazed at the man who
had released him, wondering what was next to
happen; but he saw no mercy in the hard lines
of Amos Darnel’s face, or in the maliicous twin-
kle of his eyes.

“ If I am to die.” he said, “I am ready to die

1 likes. man; but I hope that such a dog as you

will have nothing to do with my death.”

‘ ' “ This man is to be bid,” said Darnel, not re-

plying to the prisoner, turninor to his warriors,
’ “ uch is the order
He must be well bound, and must

, be concealed until the warriors start to return
» to the village. Who will take care of him, and
will answer with his life, to the chief that he

does not escape?”

‘ “ I . will,” said a tall gating warrior;i step in

up and quicklyt ing tephen’s han s be in
his back. “ I wi 1 tie him tightly and hide him
well, and he shall not be seen until the chief
calls for him. The chief knows that White
kCro‘wI’will do as he says. Come, dog of a Long-
m e.

The Indian pulled the cord, and Stephen

I ’Alleyne, after a parting glance of disgust at

Darnel, rose and ollowed him.

The prisoner was led) along the edge of the en-
campment, ashort distance, and then his con-
ductor gradually bent his course into the forest.

‘, He soon turned, and led Stephen around toward

the rear of the camp, until they reached a hol-

- low, through which ran a small stream. Stephen

 

-quietly followed. but began to think whether it

I might not be possible for him to free his wrists

a, \

 

Buck Burt’s Pluck.

from the cord. If he should succeed in doing so,
he would be obliged to struggle, weak and un-
armed as he was, with a sava e who was full
fimed; but his life was wort the risk of h s
1 e.

The Indian put a. stop to these reflections by
halting and untying the cords. He then looked
the risoner in the face and smiled, as he ut-
ter the chir of a cricket.

“ Red Haw 1 Is it really you?”

“ Could not my white brother see through the
Shawnee paint?”

“ Is it possible? How could you go among
them without bein discovered?”

“ It was easy. many Shawnees come that
they don’t know each other, and they did not
notice me.”

“ I can hardly believe that I am really saved
from them. How can I thank you i”

"' Make no noise. I took the name of one of
their dead warriors. They may soon find out
that there is no White Crow and then there will
be a search. Let us hide. liollow me."

The Delaware ste ped into the water, followed
by Stephen, and ed the way up the brook,
until he came to an enormous whiteoak tree,
which was partly hollow. From the hollow he
took a rifle, which he handed to Stephen.

“ Can my brother climb?” he asked. “ There
is no trail to hide.”

Stephen signifying that he could climb, Red
Hawk led the way up into the tree, where they
ensconced themselves among the giant branches,
in such a position that they could not be seen
from below. .

“ We must stay here,” said the Delaware,
“ until the search is over.”

They waited in vain for search to be made,
and Stephen, notwithstanding his lofty situa-
tion, had nearly drop asleep, when they

were startled by a lou explosion, and a bright.

light shone for a moment, in the direction of
the river and then suddenly disap red.

“The boat has blown up,” sai Stephen,”
his companion looked at him in amazement.

They remained in the tree until daybreak,
when they descended, and cautiously made
their way to the river. Nothing W’s to be seen
but the swollen mass of water, hurryini on-
ward toward the Ocean. The Promised and
had disappeared; the Good Hope had vanished;
there was no craft of any description in si ht.

“I don’t understand this,” said A eyne.
“ Our friends have gone—somewhere—I can’t
even uess where— rhaps to their aves.
The S awnees still ave acaptlve, and must
not leave them while their isachance to save
her. Will you stand by me, Red Hawk?"

" Come. We must flndahiding-place. We

can do nothing until dark.” .

Red Hawk. who had made himself familiar
with every foot of ground in the vicinity, led
the way to a dense t icket, covering the trail 9f
himself and his companion as they entered it.
After giving Stephen a meal of dried meat and
parched corn, he made him lie down to sleep,
while he himself ke t watch. They were not
disturbed, and when tephen awoke, RedHawk,
in turn, tcok some rest.

Thus the greater part of the day was passed.
When it was near sunset, the Delaware propos-

. 7A. Jaw—«:— - _ ,. .. ~~

 

can. a

.4. r z w

 <¢A 

_:\.~._. m; . w. «:1 wt."

Jib-ad);

4.1 .v

  

 

a. r ; "12' 3211.4

......./

. )A r»-..'

~17 hang, ..

21‘4"...“4 .. 3.

max”:

Buck Burt’s Pluck.

2'!

 

ed to go and scont around the Shawpee camp,

’ and requested Stephen to remain where he was

for awhile. Within an hour the scout returned

bringing the intelligence that the Shawnees had

broken up their camp, and had set out to return
to their village.

“ We must follow them!” exclaimed Stephen.
“ If Susan is taken to their village, it will be
impossible to rescue her. 1 ask you again, Red
Hawk, to stand by me.”

“ Come!” replied the Indian, and the two
shouldered their rifles, and marched toward the
north, on a. line with the route which Red
Hawk supposed the Shawnees would pursue.

They had traveled about three hours without
changing their course when the Delaware sud-
denly halted, and laid his hand on his compan-
ion‘s arm.

“ What is the matter?” whispered Stephen.

“ Listen l”

Stephen thought that he heard voices, and
was sure that he heard a strange, growling
sound, that seemed to be located in the branches
of a tree just beyond them.

The next instant a dark object sprung out of
the tree, and came to the ground with a crash.

“ Was that a panther?" ased Stephen.

“ Bush I” replied Red Hawk, as he dropped on
one knee, and raised his rifle to his shoulder.

The rifle cracked, and both rushed forward.

CHAPTER XIV.
THE SPRING or A PANTHER.

Amos DARNEL did not retire to rest after he
had accomplished his purpose with regard to
Stephen A leyne. He had done such a good
thing, that he wished to stay awake and felici-
tate himself upon what he had gained. He
could easily persuade Sue Archer that Stephen
Alleyne had escaped. and he was sure that she
would‘keep her oath. He would have a consent-
ing bride, though an unwilling one, and that
would be a strong point in his favor, wherever
he might be. ’

As he was then at liberty to go where he
pleased, he walked down to the water, to see
what could be seen of the expedition that had
set out to capture the two boats in the river.

The Good Hope had started some time before
he reached the shore, but could still be seen, far
out in the channel, slowly floating down the
dark river. There were a number of warriors
on the bank, watching the course of the boat,
and from one of them Darnel learned that the
barge had gone down the river just at dusk.

“ Was it not supposed ” he asked, “that all
the white men had escaped in her?” ‘

“ No. If they had a l gone, they would have
taken the other boat. Besides, a good swimmer
had gone out to the boat, and had returned and
re erred that there were men on board.

t was the general opinion that the warriors
would have an easy victory if the boat should

 

. not escape, and she had shown no sign of in-

tending to make the attempt. It may be said,
this time to the credit of A0103 Daniel, that he
hoped the white men might escape, as he had
no personal interest in their death or capture.

As long as the boats could be seen by those on '

shore, that which was at anchor had not moved
from its position; but the night soon became so

.— ‘ ' ‘ \'

U
dark that nothing could be seen. The attack
however, must be made in a short time, an
Darncl waited with the warriors, listening for
the shots and shouting, from which they would
be able to tell how the encounter went.

Neither shots nor shouting were heard. In-
stead, there was a. terrible ex lesion, a real:
flash of light; then all was si once and ark-
ness.

Amos Darnel could guess at once what had
happened; but the Indians were mystified and ,
horror-struck. Others came down to the shore, ,
and they waited until daylight for theirvwab,
riors to return; but they saw nothing more of
those who had started on the Gocd Ho .
Morning showed them no boat, no vesti e o a
wreck, nothing but the expense of swift- owing'
water.

The Indians were overcome by this last dis-
aster, the more so because it was unexplainable.
Their friends had left them—strong and valiant
warriors—had been watched as they floated
down the stream—thick darkness had shut them
from the sight of the watchers—and then—what
could it be ut the fire of the Great Spirit that
had suddenly consumed them? It wwcertain
that they had vanished utterly in a blaze of fire,
leaving no word or sign. ' .

The visitation-for such the Shawnees consid-
ered it—had a powerful efl’ectupon them. Amid
all their bloodthirstiness and cruelty, they main-
tained a deep awe and veneration for the Great =
Spirit, the creator and ruler of all, and it wasn
evident that he was angry with them. .

_ Nothing remained but to abandon the expedi-
tion, which had been attended with such a loss
of life, and to which the Great Spirit was so
plainly opposed. It was unanimouslyresolved

rest of the day was spent in making prepara-‘
tions for departure. A

It was then that Amos Daniel found himself
in trouble. '

The chief whose friendshi he~had formed .
and who had lately patronizex him and confided -
in him, had been the leader of the expedition on ._ \
the Good Hope, and had vanished with the rest
of the party. The chief who now took_com--.
mind was the same who had led the last band
of Shawnees that came from the north. This I
chief “knew not Jose h," nor was be well so- »

uainted with Amos arnel; but he did know
t at a white man who had been taken prisoner
ought to be forthcoming. and he made inquiries
concerning him. He was referred to Dame], as
the man who was responsible for the disappear- '
ance of the prisoner. 2'

Darnel explained that he had caused Alleyne
tobe unbound by the order of Senapeo, With
whom he had made an agreement for a certain, y
purpose, and who had given him his‘wanclub in
token of authorit . It had not been the inten-
tion to release t e prisoner, and he had not ~
been released. On the contrary, he had been i ‘
given in char 9 to .a warrior named White
Crow, who he promised to hide him and keep ‘ ‘
him safely. and it was to be supposed that he ,_ -
was somewhere in the vicinit of the cams. It, .‘
the chief would cause score to be In etc: -

 

White Crow, the prisoner would soon 'be 
duoed. ' '
\

to return at once to the Shawnee towns, and the ‘ g y,

i.

 

    

l

" river.

 

23

Buck Burt’s Pluck.

 

“ White mow!” exclaimed the chief, in amaze— ,

meat. “ White Crow is dead!"

“ Was he one of the warriors who went on the
big boat?" asked Darnel.

‘He was killed lon before the big boat left
the shore. I saw him uried.”

It was Darnel’s turn to be astonished. There
was no such rson as White Crow, and Stephen
Alleyne had n spirited away. Amos Darnel
had performed his promise to Sue Archer

. without intending it. He was by no means
leased at this turn of affairs, and was anxious
hat search should at once he made for the lost

prisoner; but the chief refused to make any
effort, saying that the white man had got so far
away that it would be useless to look for him.

The truth is, the Indians were inclined to be—
lieve that the spirit of the slain warrior, White

Crow, carried away the prisoner, and they
saw in this mysterious event another indication
of the displeasure of the Great Spirit. Amos
Darnel, who had no superstitious notions, was
ready to connect the disap arance of Stephen
Alleyne with the strange ndian who had re-
leased Bat Archer, and who had troubled the
Shawnees so boldly and secretly.

This set him to thinking. It was possible

" that Stephen and his Indian friend might be
still hovering about the camp, in the hope of
eflecting the rescue of Susan: but they could do
nothing against such a body of Shawnees, and
it was probable that they would go to join their
friends, who had undoubtedly moved down the

At all events he need not expect that
thev would trouble him.

He easily dismissed this fear from his mind;
but there was another matter that caused him
anxiety. The new chief was not his friend, and
he could see that many of the warriors looked
upon him with suspicion. If he should accom-
pany the Shawnees to their village, he might
not find it so easy to carry out his designs with
regard to Sue Archer as he had supposed it
would be. Evan with her consent, it was doubt—
ful whether he would be able to make her his
giife and take her out of the hands of the In-

ans.

[ There was, also, a. question of rsonal safety.
Anumber of the Indians disliked im, and he had
no longer a. gowerful protector. It was proba-
ble that this islike would increase, rather than
diminish, and it was possible that they mi ht
take it into their heads to torture him at he
village, in the place of the prisoner who had
esca .

He was not a man to run sucharisk if he
could help it, and he had not long thought upon
the matter before he came to the conclusion

[that he must get away from his uncertain
friends. As he had his liberty, it would be easy

and he thought that he would be able

‘ 5, I W 399
 ’v to take Susan with him. He would carry her

 

tosome settlement where he was unknown, she

' I would mum her promise, and all would be well.

He went to her after the Indians had started.
and informed her that he had rocured the
release of Stephen Alleyne, as he ad promised
to do. She had already heard that the white

v man had escaped, and was satisfied. Supposing
that the escape had been effected with the con-

nivsnco of Daniel, she did not question him any

P

\.

 

further, and he proceeded to explain the plan
by which be pro osed to free himself and her
from the pcfiver o the Indians.

Susan silentl assented to all he said. She no
longer had a Will of her own. She had sacrificed
herself to save the life of her lover, and she
hardly cared what might become of her. She
believed that she could protect herself from
Darnel, if it should be necessary, and almost
any thing would be better than an endless
ca tivity among the savages.

arnel remained near her, waiting until some
interruption in the march should give him an
opportunity to slip away with her.

The opportunity came sooner than he could
have hoped, and in a manner that he would not
have expected.

The line of march led across a ravine,tho
sides of which were so preci itous that they
were difficult to climb. As the Indians were
descending, one of the foremost, who was loaded
with aheavy iron kettle, missed his footing,
and fell to the bottom. The fall might not
have injured him seriously; but it so happened
that the kettle fell upon his head, crushing his
skull, and he expire inaiew minutes.

Here was another striking proof that the
Great S irit was angry with his red children.
These w 0 had objected to taking away the
plunder called attention to this signal stroke of
ven sauce, and it was at once decided that it
mus be carried no further. Every thing was
thrown upon the round, and no Shawnee could
again be induce to touch an article of the
plunder.

But this was not sufficient to pro itiate the
angry Deit . A clamor was raise that the
wh te peop e must 0 free, that they must be
sent away, and then t e Great Spirit might per.
miftthis red children to reach their homes in
sa e y.

After a. little hesitation this course was adopt

A rifle was given to Amos Darnel. With
some dried meat and parched corn, and then the
white people were told that they might go
where they pleased. They hastened to avail
themselves 0 this permission, as the mood of
the savages might chan e at any moment, and
were soon out of sight 0 the Shawnees, on the
back trail. a

The trail was plain enough: but the night was
dark, and Amos Daruel had little knowledge of
woodcraft. Their progress was so slow, that he
soon proposed that they should halt and rest
until daylight. It was necessary, he said, to
follow the trail back to the river, and it was al-
most im sible for him to keep it while the
darkness asted.

Susan. weary and heartsick, readily consent-
ed, and Danae] spread a blanket for er, prom-
ising to keep watch while she slept.

Sleep visited her tired eyelids after awhile; ‘

but she soon awoke with a start and a faint cry.
Raising herself on her arm she saw Amos Dar-
nel standing at a little distance, leaning on his

rifle.
“ What is the matter?’ he asked.
“ I was frightened. Did you hear nothing?"

‘5 No. ’1
But Susan did hear somethin at that mo-

ment—a strange growling sound, 15 t seemed to
i.

/

 

/,

 

.I'
w
l

y “w

N "a. /..‘.e. amni4 .

i-s.s..:...:-... am“.-. ._.

..<.-r_;._-.

“4;.

 

.. man‘s‘ he . 

“safe, . .

. At

m-m tam gum... 2.

s... was ~—.—<

 

Buck Burt's Pluck. 89

 

be up in the air, and that sent shudder after
shudder over her frame. Darnel heard it, too,
and he looked anxiously up into the trees.

There was a rush of a dark object from above,
and Dame] was knocked over hi}; the spring of a
panther, which fastened its feet in his neck as
it bore him to the ground.

Susan gazed at the beast in horror, unable to
move or to speak.

Then came the sharp report of a rifle, and she
fainted.

 

CHAPTER ,xv.
CONCLUSION.

11' was the intention of Buck Burt and Ken-
ton if Bat Archer’s gunpowder experiment
should prove a success, to make an immediate
attack u nthe Shawnee camp, hoping to sur-
prise an conquer the remnant of the band of
savages; but the night was so far gone when
the canoe reached the barge, that they perceived
that they would hardly have time to get all
their party on shore by daylight. As the Shaw-
nees were still too numerous for them to hope to
suceeed except by a surprise, they were obliged
to defer the attack.

.They waited with a reasonable degree of a-
tience, until dusk, when they commenced er-
rying the men to the shore in the canoe and
dinky and the skiff that belonged to the barge,
one wounded man being left on the barge with
Mrs. Archer and Margaret. As this operation
required considerable time, it was quite dark
when all were on shore and ready to advance.

Buck took the lead, the rest of the party fol-
lowing him in single file. He struck as straight

.a course as plossible for the Shawnee encamp-
a

meat, and moved forward at a brisk pace;
but it was not until the lapse of an hour that
they found themselves near enough to commence
operations.

The scout halted the party, and requested his
companions to remain where they were, while

. he should 0 forward alone and reconnoiter the

position 0 the enemy. He was gone but a short
time, and returned with the intelligence that the
camp was deserted.

He was well enough acquainted with Indian
character to be able to guess at the cause of this
sudden departure, happening. as it did, so soon
after the explosion on the river, and he knew
that it was expedient to hurry forward on the
trail of the savages, so as to strike them on the
rear during the darkness.

Bis companions appreciated the necessity of
haste, and were eager to overtake the foe. A
brief examination showed them that it had not
been long since the Shawnees had left their
camp. and it was believed that a proper de cc
of speed would enable them to accomplish their
object without difficulty. V I

Although the night was dark, the trail was
Blain enough to such woodsmen as Kenton and

uck, who led the party forward nearly at a
run, scarcely ever slackening their speed to
make sure that they were on the right track.
After keeping up this pace an hour or so, they
stopped for the purpose of examining the ground
carefully, in order to determine whether Sue
Archer and Stephen Alleyne were still with the

 

Indiana. A peculiarity in Stephen’s moccasin
would enable them to identify his track, and
the girl’s heeled shoes would be easily traced.
They soon found Susan’s track, the ground
where they had stopped being soft and nearly
destitute of leaves; but they could find nothin
:3 convince them that Alleyne was aheado
em.

They were again about to press forward,
when they were surprised at hearing the report.
of a rifle, at a short distance from where hey
were standing. _

“ Can it be possible that we have come upon '~
them already?” asked Kenton.

“Scarcel ,” replied Buck. “If that wasn’t '
Red Hawks rifle, I will allow that I may be
deceived in the voice of a gun that I ought to
know. But we must becareful. Stay here a
little, boys, while I go and see what the matter
is

d

The scout disappeared, and in a few moments
his companions heard a joyful “ whoop!” which
told them that he had found friends. '7

They ran forward, guided by the sound of
his voice, and found him standing in aglade,
surrounded by tall trees. At his side was Red
Hawk, wiping a bloody knife. At one place on
the ground was Sue Archer, supported by
Stephen Alleyne. At another place was the '
mangled body of a white man, and near him
lay an immense dead anther.

.151}; ’I/

 

41’
.“I'

All were eager to earn the meaning of. this  f‘ ’

strange scene, and many were the questions ,
that were showered upon Red Hawk; but the-

Delaware was only able to tell what he had seen  '

and knew. ,

He described the manner in which Alleyne
had effected his escape, and pointed out the
course that he had taken for the purim of’.
striking the trail of the Shawnees.» e and
Stephen had stopped he said, on hearing the],
sound of voices, and he had seen the pantherv
spring from the tree upon the bite man who
lay there. As quicklg as poesib e he had taken
aim and shot the pant er, and had then run up
and dispatched the beast with his knife; but the-
white man was dead. or nearly so. He had
noticed the girl as he ran up, and he did not
know how she and the white man had happened
to be there.

“It is that miserable sneak who brought the
boats athore,”said Buck, as he examined the
bod of the white man. .

“ es,” said Bat Archer, “it is Amos Dar-
nel."

There was yet a faint spark of life in Daniel’s

body; but he was insensible, and the spark soon i  ‘1,

went out.

" It must have been a iudgment on him.” re-
marked Buck Burt, “ and I reckon it is for the
best that it happened so. I wouldn’t have liked ,
to bad the killing of such a skunk.”

Sue Archer bad revived, and the attention“,

of all was directed to her. as all were anxious to
hear how she had escaped from the Indians. I

At first she seemed unable to‘s ak, and a tall
backwoodsman produced a “ tic ler ’_’ from the
breast of his hunting- shirt, suggesting that a
taste of spirits would loosen

addressing herself to tephen Alleyne:

er tongue. Iti 
had the desired effectband she began hrr toi'y, ., ‘

 

   

 

1

Buck Burt’s Pluck.

 

  
 
 
 
  
     
   
  
    
    
     
  
    
 
    
   
  
  
    
     
   
   
  
     
   
   
   
  
  
   
 
   
  
 
  
  
   

“After Amos Darnel set you free—" she com-

menoed:
“ After what?” interrupted Stephen. “ Amos
Darnel never thought of setting me free."
There was so ,much surprise on both sides,
Jthat mutual explanations were necessary, and
Susan learned the full extent of Amos Darnel’s

perfidy.

“The wretchl" she exclaimed, with a glance
at his corpse. “ But he has paid for their, and
he is beyond abuse now.”

As she proceeded with her narrative, it be-
came necessarg to explain matters to Stephen
Alleyne and t e Delaware, who had not yet

‘ been able to account for the loud report and the
great light on the river. When Red Hawk
com rehended what had happened, he' held out
his nd to Bat Archer and told him that he
was a great warrior.

Susan related how stupefied the Indians had
become after the occurrence, how they had set
out to return to their town, and how u on the
death of a warrior on the route, they a set her
and Amos Darnel free, telling them to go where

'7’ they pleased. She did not omit to mention that
the savages had been so overcome by su er-
stitious fear that they had abandoned all t eir
plunder.

For Amos Darnel there was a universal senti-

r' ment of execration; but it was a reed that it
would be better to bury his body, 1: an to leave
it to the wolves and the crows. ,

This done, Bat Archer and another young man
were directed to hasten back to the barge, to in-

, ~ form Mrs. Archerand Margaret Alleyne of what
« ~~ had transpired, and the others went up the trail

' ‘ to look for the plunder that had been abandoned

by the Indians. The found it ready packed,
and selected such of t evaluable articles as they
could carry. Loaded with these, they made
their way back to the river at the place where
they had'left their boats.

The barge was brought to the bank, for the
purpose of more easily loading the men and the
plunder, and Sue Archer and Stephen Alleyne
were restored to their rejoicing friends. Kenton
and his companions were then, according to
their request, landed on the other shore, as they
wished to return to their homes, and the others
pursued their way in the barge to their destina-
, tion, which they reached in safety.

Stephen Alleyne had already secured a location,
and he and Bat Archer at once set at work to
erect a cabin. As soon as .it was finished, the

I former was married to Sue Archer, having
persuaded her that the ceremony ought to be

 

' by Indians.
Bat Archer and his mother lived with Stephen
1 Alleyne, at whose house none were everso wel-
come as Red Hawk'and Buck Burt, the latter of
I, r whom was so well pleased with the” location that
he settled invthe vicinity.

mm; '

 

 

performed before she‘sh'ould be again captured

BEADLE AND ADAMS“

STANDARD DIME PUBLICATIONS

Speakers.
Each volume contains 100 large pages, printed
from clear, open type. comprising the best collec-
tion of Dialogues, Dramas and Recitations.

.The Dime Speakers embrace twenty-five volumes
v12.:

 

1. American Speaker. 15. Komlkal Speaker.

2. National Speaker. 16. Youtli’s S eaker.

'. Patriotic Speaker. 17. Eloquent caker.

. Comic Speaker. 18. Hail Colum in Speak-

3
4
5. Elocutionist. er.

6. Humorous Speaker. 19. Serio-Comic Speaker.
7. Standard Speaker. 20. Select S weaker.

8. Stump Speaker. 21. Funny peaker.

~9. Juvenile Speaker. 22. Jolly Speaker.

10. Spread-Eagle Speaker 23. Dialect Speaker.
 Dune Debater. 24. Recitation‘sand Read-

 

. Exhibition Speaker. mgs.
1:3. School Speaker. '25. Burlesque Speaker
14. Ludicrous Speaker.

These books are replete With choice pieces for the
School-room, the Exhibition. for Homes. etc. 75 to
100 Declamations and Recitations in each book.

Dialogues.

The Dime Dialogues. each volume 100 pages. em-
brace thirty-flve books. viz.:
Dialogues No. One. Dialogues No. Eighteen.
Dialogues No. 'l‘wo. Dialogues No. Nineteen.
Dialogues No. Three. Dialogues No. Twenty.
Dialogues No. Four. Dialogues No. Twenty-one.
Dialogues No. Five. Dialogues No. Twenty-two.
Dialogues No. Six. Dialogues No. Twenty-three.
Dialogues N 0. Seven. Dialogues No. Twenty-four.
Dialogues No. Eight. Dialogues No. Twenty-five. '
Dialogues No. Nine. Dialogues'No. Twenty-six.
Dialogues No. 'l‘en. DialogucsNo. ’l‘wcnty-seven.
Dialogues No. Eleven. Dialogues No. Twenty-eight.
Dialogues N0. Twelve. Dialogues No. Twenty-nine.
Dialogues No. Thirteen. Dialogues No. Thirty.
Dialogues No. Fourteen. Dialogues No. Thirty-one
Dialogues No. Fifteen. Dialogues No. Thirty-two.
Dialogues No. Sixteen. Dialogues No. Thirty-three.
Dialogues No.Seventeen Dialogues No. Thirty-four.

, Dialogues No. Thirty-five.

15 to 25 Dialogues and Dramas in each book.

Dramas and Readings.

164 12mm Pages. 20 Cents.

For Schools, Parlors. Entertainments and the Am-
ateur Stage, comprising Original Minor Dramas.
Comedy. Farce. Dress Pieces. Humorous Dialogue
and Burlesque, by noted writers: and Recitations
and Readln s. new . nd standard. of Irhe reaten
celebritvan interest. Edited by Prof. A. M. ussell

Joke Books.
Pocket Joke Book. Jim Crow Joke Book.
Paddy Whack Joke Book.
For sale by all newsdeaiers. 01' sent. Dost-Paid. on
receipt of price—ten cents.
BEADLE AND ADAMS, PUBLIsna-ns,
98 William Street. New York.

 

 

 

   
 

.-_-o y...

/ my «re-sew

 

 

 

i
_!
2

 

 

 

 

 

1 lleerhunter, the Boy Scout althu Great North Woodl.
ll} Oil (lemma.

2 liuil'nlo Bill, from Boyhood to Manhood. By Col. Pren-
ma imzrnhnni.

3 Kit Canon. King of Guidea. Bv Albert W. Aiken.

4 Gordon Lillie, the Boy-Interpreter ofthe Pawneu. By
liin'or. li. B. Stoddard. ' t

5 Bru n Adam-,Old Grizziy'a Boy Pnrd. By Colonel
Prentiss ingrahnm. .

6 Deadwood Dick an ant) '. _ By Edward L. Wheeler.

7 “PM Bill, the Pistol 1’ use. By Colonel Prentiu
nzra nm.

8 The Prairie Rum-h. By Jone h E. Badger, Jr.

9 Roving Joe: The lliutory ofa Bord: Boy." By A.

. out.
10 Texan Jack. the hlnatnng King. By Colonel Prentlu

ingrnhnm.
11 CharleycSkylurk. A Sto oi School-d? Scrape: and
' College npera. By Major . B. Stoddar .

l2 Mnripona Maren. By Jon-oh E. Bridger, Jr.

18 Roving Ben. By John .1. Mnrahnil.

l} H ring Stet-l, King of the limb. By J. E. Bndzer, Jr.

16 Valle-Awake George, the Boy Pioneer. By Edward
at

16 The Boy “'lznrd. By Burrv Ringgoid.

1’? Peter Pepperzruu, the Grdenhurn from Gotham. By

oah u .

18 Adrift on the Prairie, and Amateur Hunter-
on the Buifulo Range. By Oil Coomel.

19 The Fortune iiunter; or, Kevin Joe aa Mluer,
Cowboy, Trapper and Hunter. By A. 1. Port.

20 Trn‘pper Tom, the Wood imp. By T. C. Harbnugh.

21 in el ow llair. the Boy Chief oitne Pawns“. By Col.
Prentiss lngrnhum.

22 The Snow Trail. By ’1‘. 0. Hnrnnuxh.

28 0:5! GTliuly Adams, the Bear Tamer. By Dr. Frank

owe .

24 Wooden and “'nters. ‘By Cnpt. Frederick Whittaker.

25 A Rolling Stone: incident: in the Career on SBI and
Laan ni Col. l’rentiu ingraham. By Wm. R. Eyater.

26 Red River Revere. By C. Dunning Clark.

3? Plant an .Plnin; or. Wild onentnroa ol“Buclukin
Sam." (Mn . ham. 5. Hall.) By Col. P. lngraham.

98 The Swor Prince. ’lne Rom-mic Life of Col. Mon-
Ibery. By Ch t. Frederick Whittaker.

29 flnow-Shoe om. . iiy’i‘. C. Iinrbauyh.

80 Paul de Lacy, tn» Franeh Benat C'nnrmer. By C.
Dunning Clark.

81 Round the Camp Fire. Br Jmph E. Badger. Jr.

89 White Beaver, the lndinn Medicine Chief. By Col.
Prentlaa lmzrnham.

83 The Boy Urn-ruler. By Ca t. Fred. Whittaker.

84 The Ohm oi' the Great W lie Stu. Ian, (Jump
.n canoa. iiv C. Dunnan Clnv .

85 Old Tor Knuckle and "la Bny ChuIna. By R. Starbuck.

86 The limiting Dragoon; or. The Story ofGen. George
A. Cnaler. iiy Cut-t. Fred. Whittaker.

8? Ninht-llavyk Geor e. By Col. Prentin ln'fnhjflh

8R The Roy Lxllea of iherln. By T. C. Hnrhaugh.

89 The Young Bear Iluntora. Bv Merrie Redwing.

40 Smart Sim, the Lad with a Level Heed. By Edward
Willett.

4| The SI-ttler’s lion. By Edward S. Eilla.

42 \Vult Ferfllaon‘n Crulne. By C. Dunning Clark.

48 lliilo and evolver. By Clan. Fred. Whittaker.

44 The Lost Buy a ere. v T. C. Harbaugh.

45 Bronco Billy. the Saddle Prince. B‘ Col. inn-ham.

40 "Ink. the Stowuwny. B Charlea lorril.

4? The Colorndo Boys; or, its on an indigo Plantation.
By Joup E. Badger. Jr.

48 The Pampas lfuntenhor, New York Boya in
Buenoa Ayrva. By T. C. iiarhauzh.

4" The Adventurona Life of Nebrukn Charlie.
By Col. Prontlu ingra am.

50 Jnok ilarry and Ten, the Three Champion Brothen.
By .npt. Fred. Whittaker.

51 The "oun Land-Luer. By C. Dunning Clerk.

55! The Boy etect-iveo. Bar '1‘. C. Harbaugh. *

58 lloneat llnrr : or. The onutry Boy Adrift in the
cu '. By Char e0 Merrie.

54 an] [on]. Joe, the Mylterioua Pialnaxnan. By Col.
Prentiea ingrnham. '

56 Tip Treaaei. the Floater. By Edward Wllioit.

i

 

 

58 The Snow Huntera; or, Winter in the Wooda. By '
llnrry do Forrelt.
57 llnrry Some", the Seilor Boy Magician. By S. W.

Pearce.

58 The Adventuroua Life of Ca tain h
Border Boy. By Col. Prentiss lugra innr. Jack, l .

59 Laurel Tim, the Mule Boy of the Mines. By Charlel

“IT I.

80 The Young Trail Hunters or New York Be in
Grlzaly Lnnd. By T. C.Harbanigh. ' y'

61 The iter Hunters or, The Colorado Boya in Ele-
phant Land. By Jon? E. Badger, Jr.

62 Doctor Carver, the ‘Evii Spirit " oftho Plain-.1 By
Col. Prenlina hag-ham. '

68 Béack “one ill. the Baudit Wrecker. By Roger

rbuc .

64. Young Dick Talbot or A Boya Ron h and Tumhi
Fight from New York ito California. 8‘; A. W. Aikene.

66 The Boy Pilot; or, The island VVreoker. By Col.
Prentiss inzrahnln.

66 The Denier-t Rover or. Stowaway Dick Among the
Aruba. [5y Charioa 1i orris.

6? Texan Chnrlle, the Boy Ranger. By Col. Prontiu

lnwnlmm.
68 Little Rifle; or, The Young Fur Huntera. By Captain
“ Bruin " Arinmr.
89 The Young Nihilist or A Yankee Bey Among the
Ruuianl. liy Clmrlul .\ orrll.
70 Ponyrflle Cowboy? or, The Young Mnrshall’a Raid.
fl

By ujnr H. B. Sta rd, Ex-Scoui.
T1 Ruff Robson and Ill! Benr. By Captain “ Bruin ”'

Adllna.
79 The Ice Elephant. Bv Capt. Frederick Whittaker.
78 Th‘e Young Moose-iiuntera. By William H.
l flllll ll!-
14 The Boy Corni-Flahera. By Re er Starbnek.
75 Revolver Billy, the Boy Ranger 0 Turn. By Col.
Prentiau Inmhaln.
76 The Condor Killer-a. By T. C. Hnrbnugh.
17 Lgd {Jo‘nheelg the Young Tiger Fighter. By Roger
tar Ilc .
78 Flatiron. Fred. By Edward Willett
19 Boone, the Hunter. By Captain F. Whittaker. .
80 Kentucky Ben, the Len; Rifle of the Canada. By
Roger Starhuok.
51 The Kit Clraon Club. By T. C. Harbangh.
82 Little liuek the Boy Guide. By Barr Rln gold.
88 Pan Bob, tile Beckie-I Rider. By Co . Rilngraham.
84 Cupzuiu Fl -by-Nl§ht. Bv Jouph E. Bad er, J
85 Captain Ra E , the onus Explorer. By C. l). C
00 *Ittie linn Rot-kl. By Morrl- Redwing.
8? he Menagerie Hunters. By Mn‘. H. Grenville.
88 The Boy ’irnmpa| or.Ll{o Aurongl e Gipaill. By ‘
.i. M i oil‘rnnu. A
89 ‘lmnmahore Lilo. By C. D. Clark. .
90 Roving lillic,( unter’a Little Scout. ByT. C. llarhangh.
9| (Dragon Jonh', the Wilard Rifle. By Roger Sterhuck.
996 llurrieune kit. By A. F. Holt. .
98 Jlluuplnlg Jake, the Colorado Circus Boy. By Bryant
hunlm: ga.
94 Film Somme. llw iirondhurn Bay. By Ed. Willett.
95 Mon-ow to film-via: or, A Yankee Boy to the Renee. ‘
liy Charles Morrln.
96 Fiuhidnn Fred. By 1‘. c. Herbnu h.
9'! OruI-e ofthe Fly-way. liv C. unnlug Clark.
8 The liny Vi ilnntea. 88 Ma). H. B. Stoddad.
99 The White ‘lnera. By a t. Charlea Howard.
100 'The Snow-Shoe Trail. y St. George Rathbonn.
101 Murinuo, the Ottawa Girl. By Edward S. Eilia.
102 The Fiynwny Afloat. By C. Dunulng Ciarir. »
108 Pat. Mullouoy‘l Adventures; or, Silver Tongue
the Damtnh Queen. By 0.1.. warda.
104 The Boy Prot- actor. By Roger Sturbndr.
106 Mlnonee, the and Witch. By Edwin Daemon.
106 The Boy Oruiaera. By Edward Wine“.
10'! The Border Rovers. B J. Milton Huirmnn.

’10! Allah, the Wolf-Queen. y Capt. Howard Lincoln.”

Beadle’a Boy’a Library ll for ads hy all Newadulere,

in «nu per copy, or an. by mail on receipt of nix cent. each.
BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publiahera,

98 William Street. New York. ‘

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

,r 109 ghglifitinn Jim, the White Man’z Friend. By Edward
a.

N) Plueky Joe, the Boy Avenger. B J. M. Hnfl‘nmn.

11 The Border filmmaker. By mnea L. Bowen.

19 Lei’t-Ilanded Pete. By Jozepl- E. Badger. Jr.

18 The River RI es. By Capt. J. F. C. Adams.

14 Alone on the laina. B Edward Willeit.

16 Fisilvberkllorn, and Hla Ri a Firodeath. By Roger

' tar uc .

110 Ex lolta nfllezekinh Smith, the Backwoodzman.
BK meraon dman.

17 'l‘ a Young Mustangera. By C. Dunning Clark.

18 1‘ Id Tra 3; wt, the B0 Rivala. By Barry Ringgold.

19 Center at. the Whl Crow. Bv T. C. Harhaugli.

90 A Hot Trail: or, Clark ClevarlyAInong the Tartan.
B Charlea Morrie.

Bl ll’unter l’nrd lien. By Roger Starbuck.

BS The Enoulmaux’ Queen. By G. Waldo Browne.

23 Tim, the Boy Acrobat. By Charlua Morria.

24 ‘fuecn lieaale, the BorderGlrl. By Henry J.’l‘homaa.

25 ' om Tahor, the Boy Fugitive. BI Barry Rinxgold.

28 Mink Coat the Death-Shot. By M. E. Badger, Jr.

2? The Deer lluntera. By John J. Manhall.

25 Wolf-On ; or The Night-Hnwlu of the Fire-Landa.

B (.apt. an. award.
129 aénefiapury or, The Mountain Heroine. By Edward
‘9 .

80 Keetaen, Queen 0 the Plaina. By Percy B. St. John.
31 Wilt-h. the Child Spy. 3; George Gleuon.

'82 The lalnnd Trapper. y Char-lea Howard.

88 The Forest Specter. By Edward Willatt.

184 Wild Nut, the Trooper. By Win. R. Eyztar. ‘

185 The Silver Bugle. By Liout. Col. Haulton.

186 The Prairie Trapper. By C. Dunning Clark.

18’? The Antelope Boy. By Goo. L. Aiken.

188 Long Shot; or, The Dwarf Guide. By Capt. Corn-took.

1&9 Colonel Crockett, the Bear King. By C. E. Lualla.

140 old Pena, the hionntnlnaar. By Lewlz W. Canon.

141 The Giant Hunter. By Harry Hazard.

m Black Panther. the Humane. By J. n. Badger.

148 Gorgon, the Guide. By Lioat J. H. Randolph.

'144 Kent, the Ranger. By Edward 5. Ellis.

146 Bill Robbina, Hunter. By Edward Willett.

146 The Half-Breed Rival. By Jon. E. Badger, Jr.

141 The linked Avenger. By Col. Prentiu inimham.

148 lgnt, like Trapper and indinn Fighter. By Paul J.
l‘mtl -

 

 

149 The Elk Demon; or, The Giant Bratharl. By T.
hauKh. .

150 The Boy Muntnn Jlunter or. Eaulalle, the
' Beautiful Amazon. By redarlck hittakar.

151 Frank Yule the Young Traiper' or Mountaln
Kata’aWarnlug.“ By Joan-ph E. Ba ger,'Jr. '

153 Wild Raven, the Scout. By Oil Coomaz.

158 1, "men or Four Tra rI'Among the Sioux. B
rial not...” i ’ We y

01: ion Texan Rider or Red Blinan

1“ 3331}... “3.33.. Hunter. By Harry 53. 68mg... ’

155 Duaky Dick's Doom. By Joa. E. Badger, Jr.

156 Frank Bell, the Boy Spy. By Oil Coornea.

161 Nick Doyle, the Gold Hunter. By P. H. Myen.

”158 K dnanped Dick; or, The Fate of the Fire-Fly. By
J. Stanley Honduaon. .

159 Sam’a Long Trail; or,The Twin Boonie. By W. J.

Hamilton.
zoo flank Triplet'a Vow. By Harry Hazard.
101 The Mod Skipper. By R. Starbuck.
16! The Trapper King. By Mal. Max Murtiue.
188 Simon Kenton, Hunter. By Ememm Rodman.

164 The Boy Chief; 01’, Frank Bell’a Compact. By Oll
Comma.

 

165 The Trader Traitor. By 3- Stanley Hendenon.

166 Old ane’a Claw. By Mn. Orrin 'nmea

16’? The Young Trailer. By W. J. Hamilton.

168 The Specter pr.‘ By Maj. Lewia W. Canon.

169 flask Lute, the Old Colorado Hunter. By E. “'.
or.

170 The White Wolf. By Edward Willett.

171 The Swamp Guide. By W. N. McNeil.

17% The Yankee Peddler. By C. Dunning Clark.

178  Scout and Ill: Young Chum. By Warren
. 0 II.

174 Blnekamith Tom’a Mask. By Geo. D. Gilbert.
175 The Buckskin Rider. By Guy Greenwood.

176 The Squntter'a Surprise. By Mn. H. J. Thomaa.
177 Four Fellow Seouta. By J. Stanley Hendenon.
178 Old Kit and Ilia Comrades. By Joe. E. Badger, Jr.
179 Uncle Grill’a Din-guise. By Harry Hazard.

180 The Mnrhed Miner. By Lieut. Col. Hazeltina.
181 The “'ild lluntrcaa. By Capt. Bruin Adaml.
182 The Dwarfllecoy. By Mam 0. Rollo.

188 Job Dcnn’a Tactical. By Ingoldaby North.

1R4 Yankee Eph’a Dilemma. By J. R. Woreelter.
185 The Wlly “'lteh’l “'nrd. By Edwin E. Ewing.
186 Frank, the Furrier. By J. Stanley Henderson.

18? Diana, tha Fair Mountaineel. By Capt. F. Whittaker.
188 Jack's Snare. Bthlra. Ann E. Pom.

189 Sam, the Swamp Smut. By W. J. Homilton.

190 The Dashing Trooper. By Frederle ii. Dewey.
191 The Boy Brave. By Jame: L. Bowen.

192 Sandy Bill, of Texan. By Edward Willett.

193 ilnrry “'inkle’a Long Chose. By Wm. B,
Eyater.

194 Greener Onto, the Shadow Swamp Trailer. By
Fred" kDewey.

195 The Ranger Detective. By Harry Hazard.
196 Gypsy Man, the Mountain Witch. By animal“:
Clark.

197 The Branded Captain. By W. J. Hamilton.
198 Old Crouilre‘a Criaia. By Capt. Charlea Howard.
199 Zebra Zack, the Texan. By W. J. Hamilton.

200 The Nnmoloaa Ilunter. By George W. Robin-on.
201 The Yankee Cnptivea. By Edward Willett.
202 Toddy’a Long Trail. By Edward S. Ellie.

203 Old flank, the llormit. By Edward W. Arch".
204 Goonehond’a Boat Shot. By Joa. E. Badgor, Jr.
205 The Dutchman‘s Dread. By Capt. Chu. Howard.

206 Kit Burt’a Milli. By W. J. Hamilton.
Ready March 24.

20'? Eagle-Pym] Tina. By C. Dunning Clark.
Ready h arch Bl.

£08 The Village Sport. By Janna L. Bowen.
Ready April 1.

209 Buck Burt'a Pluck.

Ready April 14.
210 The Tell-Tale Bullet. By J. Stanley Henduaon.
Roddy April il-

By Edward Willet.

911 The Boy Surveyor. By W. J. Hamllton.
Ready April 23.
Beadle’a Boy’s Library ll for aale by all N awadoalera,
live «an per copy, or unt by mail on receipt ofaia could aach.
BEADLE AND ADAMS. PIhllchorI,
98 William Street. New York.

//i

i'