Copyrighted, 1887, by Hub“ Ash Annm. Entered at the Post Office at, New York, N. Y., as Second Class Mail Matter.

 

v.62
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“33

 

'5' I? \

May 7, 1557.

 

V01. XIII. 33$}.

Publishei Weekly by Beadle and Adams, Prlve,
No. 98 WILLIAM Sm. NEW YORK.

No. 160.

Flve Cents.

 

 

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BANK TRIPLETT LEAFED OVER THE STREAM AND HIS BRAWNY HANDS CLINCEKD HIE THROAT
BEFORE SHE COI'LD MAKE AN OI'TCRY,

 

 

a , Hank Triplett’l Vow.

€Hank Triplett’s Vow;

The Old Guide’s Wrong Trail.

BY HARRY HAZARD.
CHAPTER I.
THE TRAIN.

[1‘ was near the close of an unusually hot
summer day that our tale opens. ’ljhe sun,
glowing like a hot globe of fire, long since had
passed the meridian, and was drawmg nigh the
western horizon. It was a. common scene that
it shone upon—common in those days, but now,
since the advent of the mighty “iron horse,”
one seldom to be met with.

A long, weather—beaten train of emigrant—
wagons was toiling its weary Way over the al—
most trackless prairie—a prairie that might al«
most be called a desert, so dreary did the barren,

' ; sandy waste appear.

.dusky sweetheart—rested upon his

' suspend

   
 
 

,the material forming the garments.

Perhaps a hundred yards in advance rode a
single horseman. From under the dusty brim
of his slouched hat, a pair of piercmg gray eyes

%uick, keen glances in every direction, as
though. heir owner was ill at case. As a slight
gust of wind parts the cloud of dust that envel-
oped him, thus afl’ording a fair view of both
rider andrsteed, their forms ,are distinctly visi-
ble.
The guide—for such he undoubtedly is—has
up rently seen fifty summers, for his long elf—
1mg of sandy hair are thickly threaded with

gray. And these, together with the matted

L mass of grizzled whiskers and mustache, so con-

ceal his face that little can be seen exec t the
eyes and a small, well-cut Roman nose. pair
of broad shoulders, massive chest, tapering
down to a. round, compact wai st, abruptly swell-
ing hips, muscular thighs slightly bowed by con.
stant riding, the shapely calves terminating
with large but neatly—turned and arched feet—-
all combined formed a model that would have
compared favorably with that of the Faroese

a Hercules. This flo-urewasclothedinaclosely—fit—
ting suit of softly—dressed deemkin,

evidently
Indian—tanned, and gaudily ornamented, with
true savage idea of beauty. The seams of the

, breaches and moccasins, as well as the coat or

tunic, were deeply fringed with tags  from

‘ pipe-
holder "—evidently a gage d’amour from some
breast.
It was made of fawnskin, gainy adorned with
stained uills, feathers and bright beads, and
by a twisted thread of wampun). A
broad belt of the latter material encircled his
waist, suspending a heavy, broad-bladed knife
and a, brace of stout. serviceable, single-ha rreled
pistols. Carelesst balanced across the pommel

" oflhis saddle was a long ride, very valuable if

for the silver ornaments upon its stock.
he steed he bestrode was a large. powerful
chestnut sorrel, a perfect model of equine beau-
ty—one u n whom a man could stake his life
without eat or thought of losing. The only

on

merit! about him were a small white “ star “ in

 

 

 

his forehead, and his white feet-the latter giv-
i him the name of “ Silver Heels.”

ell might Hank TriplettFOld Hank, the
guide, as he was better known—be proud of his
noble horse. Time and again had his life been
preserved by its matchless speed and endurance,
when relentless foes pressed hard upon his trail.
They were friends —friends that nothing but
death could long keep asunde '.

The guide paused and gaze back' toward the
train. .

This was com used of some forty Wagons,
covered by what ad once been white duck, but
now was of a soiled, dirty color, produced by
the numerous showers, combined with the dust
and fine sand cast upon the air by the feet of the
slowly-toiling oxen. To a novice the sight
would have been interestin from its very new-
ness; but to one compelle to live through" it
day after day, it is painfully depressing. The
hard creaking of ungreased axles, the hoarse or-
der, “ W’o haw” or “ Gee,_”oftentimes intermine
gled with enraged cursings; the shouts of those
driving the loose stock, or, occasional bellow of
pain from some unusually refractory animal as
it felt the sharp-cutting lash; the harsh, grind-
ingtread~form a livmg picture that grows al-
mbst unbearable from its terrible sameness.

Leading the train some few yards was an
army ambulance, drawn by a. pair of stout mules,
and driven by a young man dressed in a light-
gray suit of half—civilian, half-hunter style. At
its side rode an ofiiccr whose “ shoulder—straps”
denoted him a colonel in the regular army. On
each side, but a. little to the rear, rode half a
doze-n men, also belonging to the United States
servxce.

Within the conveyance, upon a back seat, '
were two ladies, but whether young or other-
wise could uot be determined, a screen of fine
gauze being extended before them for the pur—
pose of excluding the annoying dust.

The officer now exchanged a few words with
the females, and then spurred forward in reply
to a signal made by the guide, who awaited his
arrival, and then they rode slowly along side

y Side.

“ Well, Triplett, what’s the matter?” inquired
the colonel. \

“ Nothin’ much. as yit, but thar’ll be a heap
the matter ef ye camp in that timber yonder, as

e said.” replied the guide. .,

“ Still hairpins,r on the old strain,” impatiently
returned the oflficer. “I thought that question
was settled the other time you mentioned it.
Here we have been camping in the most out-
landish places, where were neither grass nor
water for the stock and wood would often
have to be carried half a mile—for safety sake,
you say!”

“Better that, Kurne] Pinger, than tobe mas.
sacreed by the Injuns.”

“ Bah! That’s another of your hobbies. I
don’t believe there is an Indian for miles around.
Besides, the ladies have been so closely confined
to the ambulance that I promised them a. treat
tn-night. I’ve been along here before, and it’s a,
lovely place—” .

“ Yas. mighty party fer a ’bushment,” inter-
rupted Hank. ‘ ' "

“ Look here, Mr. Triplett,” excitedly answered

   

 

   

J‘a

.’*T<‘~&'<Au< e,

 

 

  
   
  
   
 
  

 

Hank Triplett’: Vow.

8

 

 

Colonel Finger, “do you or I command this
train? Had known you were a raid—”

“ Jest stop right whar ye air, urnel Finger.
We mought as well hev a settlement now as
hyararter. You air the fu’st man that ever
called me a coward an’-—”

“But. Hank —

“Wait till I’m through, an’ then ye kin talk
jest as long as ye please. A man never spoke
twic’t to me as you hev, an’ lived to tell on it. 1
know ye command this train, but ye don’t me,
not by a long Chalk. Ef I’m to guide ye to the
fort, ye hev got to do as I say. Ef ye won't,
then the sooner we part the better we’ll feel, both
on us. Fer the 1113' two days, Injun signs hev bin
as thick as fleas on a aller-belly, an' they’re
on’y a-holdin’ ofl’ ontil t ey git a good chaince,
then they’ll kum down on us hot an’ heavy.
Jest as shore as ye camp thar, ye‘ll smell brim-
stone afore ye‘re a day older, or my name hain’t
Hank Triplett, now I tell ye! Ef ’twa’n‘t fer
the wimmen-folk, durned ef I’d say a word, but
let ya do as ye pleased. P’r‘aps_ ye'd l‘arn a
little sense then,” added Triplett, in a muttered

tone.

“ Don’t fly oi! the handle, Triplett. I didn’t
mean all I said, and beg your pardon if I hurt
your feelings,” replied Finger, who was a right-
hearted, if rather a hasty and opinionated

man.

“All right, then; hyar’s m han’,” rejoined
the molliiied guide, “ but still say ’twon’t do to
camp thar. Shore as ye do, the rods ’11 take us.
Away from kiver, with the wagins corraled,
we’re safe.”

Colonel Pinger was about to make a hasty re
ply, hut in the heat of their dispute they had
unconsciously halted, and at this moment the
ambulance drove up to thei side. A bewitch-
ing little head appeared at the displaced curtain
and its owner queried, anxiously:

“ What’s the matter, papa? ny trouble?”

“No, no trouble exactly, but a great bother.
Here’s Triplett says we must not camp in the
woods yonder, but stop again on theopen prairie
for fear of Indians.“ .

“ But, Mr. Triplett, you surely don’t think
there is any danger, do you? I do so want to
sto at the Ford that papa talks so much about,
an if you don’t consent I shall feel really
hurt l” pouted pretty Josie Finger, with a grace
that she knew from experience the old scout
could not resist.

“ Wal, miss, it‘s hard to sa no to such purty
lips as them 0' your’n, but really don’t think
‘t s safe. The rods air roun’, ’ca’se I’ve seen lots
0‘ sign, an’ know they mean mischief, else we’d
’a’ bed a call afore now. I’ve bin ’mong ’em,
man an’boy, nigh onto forty earn, an’orter
know a few about ’em,” repli Hank, dofiing
his slouch hat with a rude bow, while his eyes

listened with admiration at the beaming face

fore him. .

“Now really, Mr. Hank. if you don’t please
me in this I’ll never k a word to you if I
live a hundred years!” eclared Josie, in a tone
of much anger.

“ Yes, my dear Mr. Triplett,” ueaked a
thin, crab—apple voice, as a face an only ap-

by the side 0! the young girl—a face
t corresponded perfectly With the tone, ” for

 

 

our sakes, do say yes i” and the speaker casts.
quéld-be fascinating glance upon the stalwart
gm e.

“ Two on one, an’ them ladies, is too much for
one man, an’ I guess I’ll hev to g’in in ” replied
Bank, with a comical ex ressmn o dismay
upon his face as he caught t e glance cast by the
latter. “Yes, 1 knock under, though I know
it’s wrong, nn’ hope to gracious nothin‘ bad ’11
hum of it. But ’mcmber, I washes my hands '0’
the hull job, an’ of ye all git butchered an’
skulped, don‘t blame me!” he added, in a tone of
misgivmg.

“Never fear,” laughed Josie, gleefully; “in
that case, I guess we will all have something else
to think about; so don’t worry, that’s a dear,
good old fellow " throwing a kiss to the deli ht-
ed guidq who t on turned and galloped on a ter
the colonel who had confidently left the task of
bringing the obstinate Hank to terms, to his
daughter, who, he knew, could do pretty much
as she pleased with him.

It was nearly dark when the wagon train
reached the rove of trees, and a few more min-
utes found t cm gathered u on the bank of a
small stream busxly engag in the rocess of
encamping. Under the supervision o Triplett
a strong corral was formed of a circular shape,
by placing the. wagons end to end. an outer row
being placed so as to cover the joints. Mean—
time, camp—fires had been built, the children be-
ing employed in gathering fuel While the women
were preparing for the evening meal. The cat-
tle and horses were securely hoppied to prevent
their straying to any distance, and then turned
loose to feed at will upon the rich. succulent
grass that bordered the creek. A little to one
side of the general group, near a. small fire. ap-
fizrently watching the bustling form of Mrs.

awson, the sergeant’s wife, as she cooked their
supper, were seated our heroine, Josie Finger,
and her maiden aunt, Miss Medora Pinger. Ap-

arently, we say, for in reality the eyes of the
tter were covertly following the motions of
the guide.

In fact, we may as well confess it first as last,
the anti noted 5 inster was deeply smitten with
the tall cm on noble physique of the grizzled
borderer, and showed no false modesty in re-
vealing to him the state of her affections; often—
times, in fact, verging upon the opposite ex-
treme, much to his consternation.

J osie’s eyes often wandered toward the ambu‘
lance w} ere the driver was busied in attending
to the span of mules. In good sooth it was a pleas-
ing form for a young maiden’s eyes to rest upon.
Not tall, but about the medium hight, his form
evidenced grace, strength and activity. The
broad sombrero was now pushed away from his
brow, that shone clear and white in the bri ht
moonlight. The rest of the face was term to
a deep, ruddy brown. The features were regu-
lar—almost faultlessly so. A short, silky beard
and mustache shaded the ii and chin. but a
pleasant half-smile occasiona y disclosed a set
of small, even teeth, gleaming white, despite
the use of a meerschaum pipe that was his con-
stant com nion when absent from the presence .
of thelad as. His hair was short and our .c
hazel-brown like the beard and eyel. The at-
ter, large, bright and laughing, with a. rogmsh-

/

  

    
 
 

' , fault it.

 

 forward by

1

¢ Hank Triplett’s Vow.

ness in their glance that flatl contradicted the
modest, almost bashful war 5 and demeanor
while in the resence of the ladies. A neat suit
of gray, hal -civilian, half-hunter clothes, com—
pleted the picture.

Basil Croteau had joined the train at Inde-
pendence, Missouri 8. once far-famed outfitting
point, as teamster, but the colonel takings fancy
to him, appointed him driver of the ambulance,
the conveyance of his sister and daughter—a
change that apparently pleased all parties con-

cerned.

While fillin this post, Basil prOVed himself a
pleasing, into ligent companion, as the ladies
soon grew to consider him, yet one that never
Ezeseumed or triezl to ovorstep the line draWn

tween his em lo er’s daughter and himself.
At first Josie held erself hau htily shy, b it as
she noted the calmly respectfu demeanor o the
handsome driver, who always treated her defer-
entially, yet did not appear to be smitten with
her charms, she grew piqued and treated him
with far more complaisauce than she otherwise
would. At length she found herself thinking
far more about the apparently shiny-hearted
goth than she would care to acknowledge, even

herself.

By this time Basil had finished his task, and
filling his pipe, lazily reclined against the trunk
of a tree son‘s distance from the ladies. A vas-
ual observer would have pronounced him dozing,
and so thought provoked Josie Finger, who

_ watched him for more intently than she other-
wise would have done. But from under“ the
brim of his slouched hut, those large dark eyes
were eagerly devouring the bewitching features
of the little sprite he loved so dearly.

And this is what he saw:

A petite form, yet not too slight, with propor-
tions so perfect the most fastidious could not

Her features, taken separately, would

not be considered perfect by any means. The

forehead was a thought to low, the nose slightl y

' retrousse, while around its base could he soon it

, few, very few, tiny brown freckles. The mouth

was small, with slightly pouting, ruby lips, that,
smiling. revealed the twin rows of pearls ini-

prisoned within. surum'inting a cunning, dim-
led chin. Her eyes were large, brilliant, of a
as purplish black, at times melting so soft

tender. only the moment after to shine and

sparkle like fire-flies at night. Her hair, black
as midni ht, was short, and curling around her
head wit a grace that was bewitching in itself.
This, with a voice of wonderful capacity and
sweetness, completed the inventory. Dear
reader, have you andee't of her appearance, as
she sat in the full low of the flrelight? I fear
not, yet it must su ce.

. Sn r was now announced, and the groups

I y mingled together, appeasing the hunger

cued by their long, weary ride.

 

CHAPTER 'II.
THEY comm.

SEMI Over the guide drew Colonel Finger

L ‘ v aside from the ladies, and they conversed for a

short time in IOW, guarded tones. Then the in t.
tor having Folded to the arguments brought
1:, the guide collected the men

 

 

forming the company, and announced the prob- l
ability of an attack by the Indians, 'ving his
reasons for thinking so. Then be 1:01 them his
plan for the defense of the camp, and advised
the women and children to stay close to the
wagons, where a comparatively safe refuge
could be found, unless the camp was carried by
storm. A half-score trust men were selected
and stationed at regular intervals around the
encampment, within the somewhat dense under—
wood. These he strictly cautioned to be watch-
ful, not to allow a living object larger than a
squirrel to pass their posts without a close in-
spection. Their rifles were not to be discharged
without good cause, and upon the report they
were all to retreat to the corral, there to meet
the onslaught as best the might. Meanwhile
he would scout arouod an and try to discover
their enemies, should the case be as expected.
Should they hear his rifle they were to retreat
to the wagons, and he would announce his com-
ing by three sharp whistles giving them an ex-
ample, so that there would be nofear of a mis~
take.

Drawing his belt tighter around his waist old
Hank strode away with long but silent strides.
There was a look of concern upon his face, and
a feeling of foreboding at his heart that he could
not banish. Like the §enerality of his class,
who often passed mont IS in solitude, Tr'l lett
had formed the habit of talkin to himse f, if
talkin% it could be called when t e sounds could
scarce y be heard a yard from his lips. After
perhaps an hour had been spent in scouting
around the edge of the timber, without anything:
unusual occurring, he mutte :

“ Wal, all the fools ain’t dead it thet’s sar-
t‘in. An’ of anybody says thet o d ank Trip-
let-t was one 0’ them, I don’t believe he’d tell a
very big lie, though he mought git a mouthful
of loose teeth, like I know’d a feller to, onc’t,
fer sayin’ so,” added he, chuckling inaudibly as
some reminiscence passed through his mind that
pleast his fancy.

“ To think thct I, an ole mountain man, shed
knock under to that pig-headed kurnel, an” camp
whar a greenhorn on his fu’st trip would steer
cl’ar of! But who could say no to that Miss
J osiei Lord bless her purty eyesi She’s an
angel ef the ever grow down hyar, ’thout the
wings. We , I on‘y hope as how she’ll see the
sun rise a ‘in, all safe an’ sound, though ’twon’t
be his fan t ef she does. But one thin’s sart’in,
ef anythin’ bad comes to the lectle birdy, them
as11 does it ’11 hev to pay big fer it, now I
to ye!

“ Howsomever, I hope it's all right. ‘Twould
be almighty rough on me, at the train shed git
wiped out, arter gittin‘ along safe so fer, an’ all
through that cussed fool, the kurnel. Thar ain’t
never nothin’ o’ the kind happened to me yit, an‘
I‘ve piloted gobs of ’em over. Wal, we’ll see
afore long, anyhow,” and his mutterings grad-
ually died away.

Perhaps four hours had elapsed since his leav-
ing the camp, and nothing unusual  occurred,
althou'rh he did not relax his Vigilance. He
knew the habits of the Indians too well, not to
feel assured that the attack, if an , would he
made in the small hours, after mi night. when
the emigrants would he suppoaed to be in their

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

5V

Hank Triplott’: Vow.

L

soundest slumber. Several times he had en
circled the camp, and using great caution, saw
that the sentinels were on the alert. At length,
after a circuit, he seated himself upon a fallen
log close to a clump of bushes, so that the moon-
light might not betray him should any enemy
‘ chance that way.

Time rolled on, and he was again thinking of
repeating his tour 0! ins ction, when a slight
rustle met his ear—so slight that it would not
have attracted the attention of an ear less keen
than that of the guide, or else would have been
attributed to the breeze. But Hank knew bet-
ter; he knew it was the tread of a moccasined
foot upon the carpet of last year’s leaves. With
he and neck craned forward, listening intent-
ly, with one hand clasping the horn-haft of his
knife, he awaited the result. Not long, how-
ever; for the next moment a dusky form ap
peared in view crouched and gliding like a

anther arm the narrow strip of moonlight.

hen he knew that his fears were to be realized;
that they were discovered, and their bloodthirsty
foes were upon them. Still he moved not, only
clinched his knife with a firmer hold and noise
lessly rested his rifle against the log. The savage
paused and peered keenly through the gloom.
All was silent. Then he slowly moved on directly
toward the hidden scout, who saw that a col-
lision was inevitable.

Again he paused, close by the clump of bushes,
and mechanically outstretched his hand tograsp
them. It was done without thought. but it
proved an unlucky movement for him. As he
stood not a yard separated him from Hank, and
with his left arm extended, his side was fully ex~~
posed, his form showing clear and distinct
against the sky, almost over the scout. Triplett
did not throw away his chance, but, with a
fierce hinge, buried his long blade to the hilt in
the Indian’s heart, at the same time clutching his
throat with a grip of iron. A slight gurgle was
all, then with a convulsive shudder the red-
inan’s limbs straightened in the embrace of
death, while his spirit winged its way to the
hap y hunting— grounds of his people.

“Blackfoot brave, by th’ eternal!” muttered
Hank. “Thet thiir’s one the less on ’cm any-
how, and thet— Hello! what’s thet?”

The latter exclamation was caused by the
ominous ,click of a rifle meeting his car. When
examining the scalp he had unconsciously step-
pfyd out into the moonlight. Quick as thought

ank leaped to one side, grasping his rifle,
where the shade would screen his motions, at
the same time cocking his weapon. As he did
so. a sharp report was heard, a bright flash
spouted out, and a bullet hissed ast his cheek,
creasing it and severing a Inc of his grizzly
whiskers in its passage. Instantly his rifle was
discharged at the flash, followed by a shrill
Screech of death-agony; then all was still. The
guide did not pause, but rapidly glided along
throu h the bushes toward the nearest picket.

Basil Croteau was one of the number selecth
to guard against surprise from the enemy. and
was posted upon a slight eminence that afforderh
a fair view of the camp as well as surrounding
woods. The knoll was free from underbrush,
whilea readin tree cast it partially in the
shade. e stood eaning against the trunk, with

 

5

his thoi‘ilghts dwelling far more upon the graces
of fair osie Pinger than their present danger
if the truth must be confessed. Time
rapidly with him, and the hours rolled on un-
heeded, save now and then when, with an ef~
fort, he would rouse his wandering thoughts and
keenly scrutinize the surrounding objects. It
was in one of these fits of abstraction that he
now stood, with gaze vacantly fixed upon a dark
object lying upon the ground, perhapsa score
yards distant from the tree. This was about the
size of a man, but it‘did not appear to move,
neither could any limbs be seen. It was lying
in the shade, but the moonli [it began a few
feet before it—that is, toward Easil.

The fact was, the object was alive, and neither
more nor less than a Blackfoot brave.

At length Croteau gave a slight start. It ap-
peared to him that the dark, log-like object had
moved nearer toward him—that the line of
light was nearer its closer end—but he was not
certain.

So, to solve his doubts, he drew his knife, and
taking the point between thumb and finger,
mist it with all his force and skill at the dark
0 feet.

imultaneously with its leaving his hand, the
rifle that had been fired at the scout rung upon
the still air, quickly followed by another and
this by a wild yell. At the report the Blackfoot
1%.}de forward, at the same time discharging
a arrow, which struck Basil, but did not inflict
a fatal wound or prevent him from returning
the compliment by a rifle-hall through the body
of the red-rnian, who fell with the war-whoop of
his tribe issuing from his lips. It was taken up
by cnd echoed from every point of the compass,
until the woods appeared full of demons, and the
enemy darted forward, thirsting for the blood
of the whites.

But the latter were ready for them, owing to
the precautions of Triplett. and gave them a
warm rece tiou. The pickets all succeeded in
entering t e corral safely, and when the first
volley was fired, old Hank gave his signal, and
tearing away the brush that was piled under one
of the wagons, he stood in their midst, after
carefully replacing the rubbish that he had
moved. ‘

The first volley was dead] , and the savages
staggered for a moment. Fortunately some oi!
the more experienced emigrants had saved their

fire, and these, together with what pistols were .

in the party, completed the repulse, for the In-
dians had by no means anticipated such a.
warm reception and tacitly beat a retreaefi
followed by a defiant cheer from the elat
white men. r

“ That’s right, boys; give the red devils
greased lightnin’i” shouted Tri lett. rapidly dis-
charging his rifle and pistols, t at did gond sea“
vice. “But look a-hyar, fer the Lord’s sake
don't all fire a ’in to (nc’t; ef ye do, we’re gone
up for sure. .hey‘ll stick lon
do tha’r best, an’ we’ll hev our an’s i'ulL String
out shoulder to shoulder 50’s to watch all p‘iuts,
nn’ when they make a rush, let every other man

r next time, an’ w ":1

flre, then load while t’oihers do the same, 2111‘. 

be sure, jist as soon as ye fire, to drop down or
dodge to one side, or they’ll plumprye when

  

I
, .
I

they shoot at the blaze. Mind, now. Look

aw]

i:
.x,
i

 

,. '.. ~........,

6 Han]: Triplett’s Vow.

out, hyar they come!” at the same time coolly
tricking off one of the leaders, who dropped in
is tracks.

This seemed to be a signal for a general volley
from the assailants, but which did little harmto
the well-protected emigrants. One man, how-
ever, was struck by an arrow in the throat
checking in its birth the defiant cheer he tri
t.) utter. Several others were hurt, but luckily
none so severely as to prevent their doing their
duty. The whites saw their comrade‘s death, as
he staggered out from the barricade and fell in
a brig t spot, and a momentary chill crept over
them at the thought that this might be. the end
that awaited them all. But this they soon ban-
ished, and a wild, hoarse yell of vengeance went
up as with one accord. and they fought better
and with more fierceness as they thought of their
comrade and his young wife, who doubtless at
that moment was fervently offering up agonizing
prayers for his safety.

The Blackfeet were not checked by thoirdead-
1y flre, however, and the barricade wru reached,
and for a time it seemed as though their effort
to carry it would rove successful. They were
met stoutly, and t e sabers an 1 bayoncts of the
soldiers proved invaluable. As the dusky fiends

. strove to scale the barricade of wagons, they

were met with pistol-shots and clubbed rifles,
and, when possible, knife-thrusts. Did they
strive to penetrate or remove the brushwood
that choked up the space beneath the wagons,
the noise would betray them. and a sabonthrust
or the sharp point of a bayonet, wielded by
str )m,r and willing hands. would repel them, or
cause the de1th~yell to mingle with tho confused
medley of sounds that converted the little glade
into a living pande’nonium.

' Truly it was a horrible scene, one that a. par-
ticipint could never forget or erase from his
man )ry. It was a scene that no pencil could
portr'iy, that no pen might describe; tofuliy
conprehenl it in all its terrible grandeur, one
maut witness it—mingle with the actors of the
bloody, terrific drama.

“Load up. boys, ’tain‘t over yit by a. long
chalk. T‘har’s more to come an’ tain‘t no man-
ner 0' use to waste breath that ye’ll need yit, a-
hollerin“ nfore yo git outen the wuds." ordered
Triplett, who seemed to be universally acknowl-
edge! a leader by even the colonel, in whom

Indian-fighting was comparatively new business. '

Yet he Win his sours nobly, and over where
danger was thickest he fully maintained his rep—
utitiou as a brave and gallant sol lier. Basil
Croteau also articularly distinguished himself
-—-although t e wounnl receiver] from the spy
troubled him somewhat—if that could be said
wh we all were so brave.

Oil Hank appeared to bear a charmed life, for
throughout all that long conflict not a weapon

. had tauched his bones, although his garments

were slashed an'l pierced in a score of places.
He drew C )lonel Pinger to one side and said:

“ Will, kurnel, ye see thar war an Injun ’ithin
miles 0‘ us an‘ a good wheen o’ the red devils at
that. don’t ye?”

“ You were right and I wron , and I ask your

pardon for the hard words I spo e." frankly ex—

tending his hand. that was heartily grasped by
the brawny palm of the guide. “I don’t know

 

what we‘d have done if I’d had my own way al—
together.”

“ None 0' thet, kurnel; I’ve lived ’mong ’em
longer in you hev, an’ orter know thar ways bet-
ter. But what’s the matter? Hain’t hurt, be
ye?” he added, in an anxious tone, as the colonel
pressed his hand to his side and withdrew it cov<
ered with blood.

“ Only a scratch. I believe, but it smarts con-
foundedl ,” replied the other.

“ Oh. t en it’s all hunky; bad ones don’t sting,
But ye go an’ see of the wimmin—folks be safe,
while I look to the men. Hurry back, for thar’s
more work to do, an’ we’ll need every arm,” and
he hurried ofl.‘ to prepare for another attack if it
should come.

 

CHAPTER III.
THE UNANSWERED CALL.

CALLING Basil Croteau. Triplett ins ted the
corral, partially to ascertain whethera wes pre‘
pared for the defense, as well as to learn what

ad been their loss in killed and wounded. The
mortality had been comparatively slight. con-
sidering the flerceness of the fray, but the dis-
abling of each man left their situation more (pre-
carious, for as he had said, every man woul be
needed. He found that there were fifty-three
men all told, who were fit for dut , although the
majority were wounded more or ess severely.

“ Wa .” exclaimed Hank, as he completed his
tour, “ ’tain’t so bad as it mought be though
wusser’n Iwish ’twar. Seven men ki led an’
four party nigh played out! But thet cain t be
helped, an’ we hain’t got no time to cry over ’em
now. Pucker up, boys, and let’s giv’ the red
imps a cheer, jest to let ’em know we‘re ready
fer ’om, ef they want to try it on ag’in.” and a
wild hurrah went up from those sturdy lungs,
that made the echoes ring for miles around.

“ Now, you fellers kin take turns an’ see your
wimmin-folks fer a minnit. You go fus’t, Cook,
but don‘t belong. fer thar’s work yit, an’ gobs
of it. Only one at a time, ’memher. from right
to left. An’ keep your eyes skinned fer the reds.
Ef ye see an inch 0’ red hide, put a bullet
through it, but be keerful not to miss, an’ dodge
like blazes, less ye’ll git plugged back a ’in."

For some time all‘ was silent, save t e wind
whispering through the tree-tops, the shrill cries
of some summer insect, the gentle murmur of
the stream, or now and then a low. guarded
query from one of the besieged, as he spoke to
his comrade, or awail of some frightened infant.
A few “ green-horns” began to believe that the

enemy had find, and were greatly elated thereat, _

but not so others. They knew from the energy
the too had already shown—a persistency that
surprised all. none more so than the guideathat
they were only repulsed, not defeated, and that
their ominous silence boded them no 00d.

The guide and Croteau were standing side by
side where they could obtain a fair view of the
ground in front of them. The latter spoke first.

“ What do you think of their silence, Hank?”
he queried. in a low tone. ,

“ Don’t like it; ’tain’t for no good, ye kin bet
high. I wish they’d come ng‘m. Et they do,
an’ we beat ’em back, thet’ll finish it, fer it’s
mornin’ now. Whatever the do, ’11 be party
soon. They hain’t got much t me an’ ’1] do that

.

 

 

5
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Hank Triplett's Vow. I?

 

(lerncdest. It beats me,” he added, aftcra slight
pause, “ the way those devils do fight! I hain’t
sce’d nothin’ like it’ sence I’ve bin on the plains.
Thar’s somethin’ extr‘or‘nary in the wind now,
ye mark my words. They’re fightin’ for some-
thin’ more‘n kimmon, ’sif fer some pcrticklar
thin , an’ it beats me what it can be.”

“ ’ve noticed it too. and it struck rue—but no,
that can’t be,” mused Basil, half hesitatingly.

“ Why, what‘s the matter? Spit it out!”

“Maybe you’ll laugh, but sometimes I half
believe it’s so, and then it seems too ridiculous,”
replied Basil, half to himself.

‘ Tell it,” laconically quoth the guide.

“ Well, when we were camped on the ‘ Smoky '
you know, where we laid over Sunday, a chic ,
as he said he was, came into camp and stayed
nearly all day. Of course he saw Josie—Miss
Pinger I mean,” blushing, which did not escape
the watchful eye of the tide, “ and was very
much struck with her. efore he left he had
the impudence to ask Colonel Pingcr to give her
to him, for a squaw, offering his horse in
exchange.”

“ The dirty skunk!” muttered Hank, twisting
ofl? another quid of tobacco. “ Go on.”

“ Well, 01'. course he refused, and then the
co per—colored rascal increased his offer until
Colonel Finger got mad, and ordered him out of
the camp before he got worse treatment. The
Indian swore he would have her anyhow, and
then ’the colonel kicked him clear beyond the
lines.

“ Sarved the imp right, but ’twar mighty fool-
ish on his rh—the kurnel I mean. Did yo no-
tice the s ape of his scalp-lock or cut of his
moccasins?”

“ No, I didn’t think of it.”

“I warrant ye! But war thar anythin" that
ye did notice?”

“Yes, now I think of it; he had a long half.
circle around his head, as if made bya knife, and
had lost the two smallest fingers from his left
hand." replied Basil, after a moment’s thought.

“ The deuce ye say !” exclaimed Hank, with a
long low whistle. ‘ Them’s my marks, an’ he’s
ole Three Fingers *"the big war-chief of the
Blackfeet. Don‘t I ' ow him! W'agh! One of
the toughest scrimmages I ever had war with
him, an’ I’d lifted his ha’r in a jiffy, but others
come up an’ I had to skedaddle mighty lively,
now I tell ye. Thunder, ef it’s him is arter us,
we’ll hev our hands full, you bet. Whar war I
when it happincd, an’ why on airth didn’t I hear
on‘it afore?”

“ You were out hunting, I believe, and I sup—
pose they didn’t think it of enough importance
to mention it,” the young man replied.

“ Importance be hanged!” bitterly exclaimed
the guide. “ Ef I’d on'g ’a’ knou-ed it, this
wouldn’t ’a’ happined. ut ’tain‘t no use to
worry ’bout it now. It’s did, an’-—— Hello,
whar’d that come from?” he yelled, clapping one
hand to his check.

The cause was plain; for a she. , whiplike
report was heard, and the bullet ha crossed his
face, inflicting a slight wound, and being a
c105er rub than the wrathy guide relished. The
gloom prevented the smoke from being seen.
and all they could do was to patiently wait. as
best they might, for the repetition of the shot.

/

 

It came in due time, and with fatal effect, for a
man upon the opposite side of the corral threw.
up his arms with a scream of agony, and fell,
shot through the brain. A wild chorus of yells
went up from the Indians when they learned
the success of the shot from the cry.

“ Thar he is!” cried Triplett, pointing up at a
tall, towering tree that completely overlooked
the corral. Thunder, thar‘s two on ’em.
Jeeminy criminy, this must be stopped l” he
added, as another flash was seen, and a bullet
hissed by his ears, in close proximity to them.

“ Bill Stevens, come hyar,” ordered the guide.

But now another danger assailed them. A
shower of enormous fireflies arose from the
woods on the side Hank was stationed, and de-
scribing a beautiful parabola, rained upon the
canvas covering of the wagons. They were ar—
rows tipped With some inflammable material;
probably soaked in whisky. Their object was
not to burn the wagons, for that was impossible
with such slight means, but to illuminate the in-
terior of the corral, and if ssible throw the de—
fenders into confusion. his emer ency was
promptly met by Hank, who called a ozen men,
and ordered:

“ Into the wagins, boys, an’ cut the ties on
t’othcr side, Be kecrful, fer yer lives don’t let
’cni see yel”

The covers of several were in ablaze, and a
series of shrieks arose from the terrified females,
who were generally concealed within the inner
circle, as they saw the fire blazing up over their
heads. The fastenin s were promptly severed
on the outside. then t 10 covers were pulled over
and trampled under foot by those within. They

‘ were not unscathed while so doing, forasthe

bright light revealed their forms, with the dis-
tinctness of noonday, the savage marksman
stationed in the tree-togs improved their 0 por-
tunity, and two of the esieged bit the d It
only occupied a minute’s time, and but the two
shots were fired by them, but those who were
beneath kept up a constant fusilade, steadily an—
swered byl the whites still on post. Hank now
turned his attention to those who had already
done so much damage. He leveled his rifle,.
then turning his head he spoke:

“Sight :1 ring the bar’], boys; it‘s thar one of
’em is hid. Now, Basil, you fire at the spot an’
then when he answers it, I’ll pop at the blaze.
We kin git him that way. Stevens, you watch
fer the other one. You’re good at the flash."

Basil did as requested, and they could hear
the rattle of the bark shattered by his shot.
The tree, near the top, made an abrupt curve.
where the limbs were interweaved and twined
together, thus forming a dense screen Within
which one of the Blackfeet had stationed him-
self. The other was a few feet lower npona
huge limb that had a somewhat sin er one

rowing almost straight upward. Behind this ‘
e was, as he imagined, rfectly secure. ' I

The first savage now red, and was instantly 
replied to by the guide. Awildcryfollow . r
The scout’s aim had been true, and his bullet had
shattered the red-skin‘s jaw. The shock or pain

of the wound made him lose his balance.andr ..:

after a vain efl'ort t) retain his perch he 1911.
Not far thou h, for his outstretched handsgw»
ing at every imb, clutched the ankle or his oom-

 

 

 

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‘ tion would not‘afl'ect the shade.

- visible.

8 flank Triplett’s Vow.

rude below to which he clung withthe energy of
d ir. The shock was so sudden and unex~

, to the latter, that he was partially drag-
ged from his resting-place, and only saved him-
sell by dropping his rifle and clutching the up-
right limb with both hands. As if by common
consent, both parties of combatants suspended
hostilities, and awaited the result in breathless
suspense. The uninjured Indian kicked Vigor-
ous y with his free leg at the one incumbering
him, but then the latter secured that also, mak-
ing energetic efforts to raise himself to a foot-
hold. There were no limbs within his reach,
however, and it is doubtful how the affair would
have ended, but Stevens’s rifle spoke, and with a
wild death-yell, both savages were dashed to the
ground. A hearty cheer was uttered by the
whites as they beheld the death of these danger-
ous enemies; a chorus of horrible yells from the
Blackfeet, and as one man, they bounded from
their covert and dashed to the assault.

The hoarse commands of Colonel Pinger, the
sharp, quick directions of the guide, the encour-
agement of Basil, added to their brave, almost
reckless daring, inspired the men with fresh
energy, and they fou ht like demons.

Twnce had the Blac feet effected an entrance,
twice were they met hand to hand and driven
back, with fearful loss. The bodies ot’ dead and
wounded strewed the ground, the white man
side by side with that of his red foe, per-
chance still locked in the fatal embrace, or lying
when: death overtook them. Still the combat
rare .

As it by magic, the Blackfeet swarm over the
barricade, and now the struggle becomes the
life-and-death grep 1e. Friend and foe are
mixed in one horri le melee—shouts and ells
fill theair, while the crash and thud of h ows
are heard, and the steel glimmers a deep crim-
son in the bright moonlight as it drips with life-
blood. The struggle was short but eventful,
brief but deadly, and then the red-men are slow-
lybeing driven back. A loud crash, the wild,
piercing shriek of a woman’s voice is heard;

hen a ong—drawn, uavering cry, and with one

more blow. the In ians retreat, and in an in-
stant’s time all have vanished save those who
heard not the cry, who would never more tread
the War-path—and those too severely wounded
to flee. The victory was with the white men,
but ah, at what a fearful cost!

All eyes are turned in the direction from
whence the» crash and shriek had rescunded.
The cause of the former was plain—the latter
easily conjectured. The ambulance had been
stationed at a point where the shadowv oust by
the overhanging trees was unusually dense, and
so situated that the change in the moon’s posi-
Save that it
was close to the barricade it was in a compara-
tively sate situation and out of harm’s way, un-
less from some random missile. Within this
the colonel’s sister and daughter had sought
refuge.

Now the ambulance was lying upon its side.
with the end and one side curtain torn or slashed
asunder. By its overtth the vehicle was cast
into the clear moonlight. The interior was
But its occupants, where were they?

With a wild cry of anguish, Colonel Finger

5.

 

 

\

darted forward, his worst fears roused. Swift
as were his footsteps, two forms sprung past
him and reached the carriage first. They were
those of the guide and Basil Croteau.

, “Josie, my daughter, where are you? My
God, child, speak to mel ’Tis your father
calls!”

“ ’Tain’t no use, boss; she’s gone. Them vil-
lains hev got her. Foller me, young teller,
p’r’aps we can cotch ’em afore they git c’lal'
off,” hurriedly spoke the guide, as he clambered
over the barricade, closely followed by Basil.

The colonel tried to follow, but he sunk down
fainting from weakness caused b loss of blood
and fat] e, added to the shock 0 his daughter’s
loss. T e two men darted rapidly through the
timber, without taking any precautions for
silence.

They passed throtigh the woods, and reached
the open prairie. ank stooped and bent his
ear to the ground. He caught the sound of rush-
ing anl trampling of feet toward the northwest
—np the creek—and again darted forward with
the velocity of a race-horse.

The noise made by their enemies grows louder
and more distinct upon their ears, and hope is
renewed within their breasts. But this was soon
dissipated. They were skirting the timber. _ A
horde of mounted savages burst into Vlew
around aslight bend, spurrin as though fear-
ing pursuit. toward the nort . In their lead
gleams the light drapery of two females. They
ride not alone; a. pair of dusky arms enc1rcles
the waist of each. With a. hoarse cry of min led
rage and despair, Tri lett pauses, and love ing
his rifle until it bears Pull u n the form of one
of the captors, his gray eye glances throu h the
sights, and with the crack, its mark reesand
falls, the female with him, while the riderless
steed gallops wildly over the plain.
great anger from the trampling boots, but a
savage bends over, a muscular arm grasps hers,
and her light form is dra wn up and seated. upon
a second horse. A wild cry of rage, mingled
with shrieks for help from the captives—then a
score of Blackfeet turn and ride back to chastise
the daring men. - Basil heeds them not. he heeds
nothing but the terrorstricken sounds of that

loved one’s voice, and is dashing on to certain r

destruction, when a grasp that he can not resist
is laid upon his shoulder, and he is forced back
to the covert of the friendly trees. The red-men
do not follow them-they dare not, for they
know not what those shadows conceal, and have
this night been taught to respect the heavy arms
of their pale-faced foes.

“ Let me go, Triplett, let up, I say! Didn’t
you hear her call me!” he raged, as he vainly
strove to free himself.

“Fool! hev ye more nor one skulp, that ye can
afford to throw away the one ye w’arin that
shape?” reioined Hank. “ Don‘t ye see thet it’s
no useil They’re on bosses an‘ we afloat. We’d
be wiped out afore ten minutes. No, no, boy,
we must work a leetle different from thet, of we
ever expect to capter her back ag’m. An’ '1;
her I will, ef I hev to spend all my life. an’ P8
out every mother’s son of ’em. Hank Triplett

says it, an’ it’s sw’ar’d to. Mind them/young ,

star, and he don't go back on his word, nary

 

 

Sheisin,

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hank Triplett’s Vow. ' 9

 

time!” and releasing the partially subdued
young man they slowly retraced their steps.

The last fallen savage had been carried off by
his comrades, and our friends proceeded direct-
lZ toward the two they had first encountered.

5 they stooped over the prostrate forms, a
crowd of men rushed from the woods toward
them with loud shouts. But the twain did not
flee; they recognized their friends, who had
. heard the report of firearms and sallied out from
the corral to assist our heroes, fearing they had
got into trouble.

The colonel was not with them. They had
left him still in a faint from loss of blood, and
grief at the loss of his child.

CHAPTER IV.
OLD HANK’S vow.

THE dawn broke clear and pleasant over the
late strife. but the glorious “ god of da ” shone
u n a sad and dreadful spectacle. T 1e bodies
0 the Blackfeet that had fallen within the
corral—~those without havin been carried off
when the savages retreated— ad been despoilcd
and then dragged from the little glade and cast
into the bushes for their four-footed brethren,
the coyotes, to feed upon.

Those of the emigrants who had fought their
last battle were carefully arranged in a row,
with their bodies composed as well as possible
' under the circumstances. Pale and tearful faces
were bending over them, taking a long, last
farewell of father, son, brother or husband, who
solately had been full of love, mirth and life,
now, alas, with hearts stilled forever! It was a
sad, mournful picture; one that is sacred from
idle eyes.

But the scene is too sad, too full of woe, and
we can not dwell upon it.

There is a grou of men gathered forward,
three in number. he form lying upon the rude
conch is that of Colonel Finger. His wounds
are many, yet not mortal, but he is pmstrate
and weak as a child. In vain he strives to rise.
The gentle pressure of the guide’s hand stays
him. A touch that could not restrain a child,
yet it is all-powerful with that once strong man.

“ Don’t be snatched, kurnel. ’Twon’t do no

00d, for ye cain’t stand, let alone travel wi’ us,
first as we’ve got to go. I know it‘s hard, but it
cain’t be hel An’ we’ll do the best we can,
the young fe er an’ me, an’ start jist as soon as
the men it back wi’ a good boss fer him,” sooth-
ingly spo e the guide, with not a trace of rancor
in, Is tones.

“Ah, God hel me!” witha can. “And I
must lay here 1i e a log when osie—when my
daughter is in the clutches of those fiends. I will
not! Let me loose; I must go] Let up I say!"
foamed the father, struggling in the grasp of
Triplett.

“ Gently, gently, kurnel; ye cain’t do it, an’
on’y make matters worse b sich doin’s. Ye
couldn’t stand a minute.a W at ye must do is to
take it cool an' git strong as soon as ye can.
Then of ye‘ve a mind to, ye can take a company
an’ roller arter, pervided in course we hain’t got
her cl’ar store then.” _

“Well, if I must I must, Isuppose; but it’s
hard, my God! how hard." he groaned, as he
sunk back exhausted. “ You don‘t know, you

 

 

can‘t know, how I feel,” and the tears trickled
through his fingers.

“ Don’t I though, kurnel? To be shore I’m an
old sinner, an’ I hain‘t got wife nor children;
don’t know ef thar's one drop 0’ my blood in a.
vein thet hain’t in this ole body. ut I loved
that child; yes, I loved her as though she war
my own flesh an’ blood. I loved her well enough
to die fer her, an’ please the pigs, I will diefer
her 'less I can do better~fetch her safe an’ soun’
bac to yer arms. An’ listen. Kurnel Finger: I
hev swored to myself, an’ I now sw’ar to you
thet I won’t rest or stop huntin’ a. moment;
won’t do anythin’ else, or think of anythin’
else till I hev found her an’ got her away, ’less I
go under in the ’temptl I sw’ar thls, an’ ye hev _
my han’ upon it, the han’ of a man what never
told a arnest lie sence be war a shaver,” spoke
Hank riplett, pressing the hand of the wounded
man warmly.

“And here is another who swears the same,"
added Basil Croteau, who was kneeling before a
little fire, casting bullets.

“It is well, since it can be no better "replied
the colonel. “But what are your plans, and
when do we start?"

“They’re simple an” easy told. Fu‘st an’ fo’-
most, we start Jist as soon as a horse comes in
for Basfl—a good one thet he can trust life to.
We’ll foller tha’r trail until we catch ’em, else
hole ’em, then trust to Providence an‘ a strong
heart.”

“But, why go alone? Why not take more
men?”

“’Ca’se we cain't hev enough to fight 'em.
You’re short-handed now. and two is better nor
a dozen fer sarcumvention. An’ thet’s what
we’ve got to depind on. It’s a slim chainoe, a.
mighty slim one, we hev, to catch 'em atore
they git safe home ’mong the Black Hills.
3(1))er rendezvous thar; I know the place like a

0 .

“Fu’st, you must git on yer feet as soon as »
may be, an’ travel to the fort; ’tain’t fur 03..
Then gather a wheen o‘ tellers. wi’ a kupple o’
mountain-men 0’ the right stripe, to show ye the
way, an’ strike out fer the ‘ lady’s Kenyon.’
Any 0’ them ’1] know whar thet is; an’ wait fer
me. I’ll be thar ef I’m alive, an’ of we caln’t do
no better, why we'll make a night attach, an’
cl’ar her of we kin, ’less we leave our skulps to
dry in the smoke 0’ the Wigwam. D’ye under-
stan’?”

“I’ll do as you say. Let Croteau take my
horse; he is good, none better, and start as soon
as may be. Every moment will be an age to
my darling, that she spends in their power.
Hark! I hear the tramp of horses’ feet. They
have at back at last.”

“ e’re ri ht, an’ thar’s ole Maneto, yer boss.
Whoorayl 0w young teller, ef ye’re ready
let's make a break. ’

“ I am ready.” '

Their bullet-pouches and ca acious powder-
horns were filled, the arms an eduipments of
both men and horses were carefu ly examined
and tested; and then they started with a cordial
cheer and “God speed” from their companions, -
a well-filled haversack and canteen strapped to ,
each saddle. _,

They entered the trail and rode at a rapid

 

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rate. They had no difficulty in following it
now, and advanced in a steady trot, which,
while swift, does not fatigue a horse so rapidly
as a gallop, than which more ground can be
covered in a day at this gait.

Basil chafed at this caution, but was compelled
to em to the guide, who said:

‘ Ye see, youngster. ’tain’t no use to be snatch—

, an' we mought as well take it cool fu'st as
last. We’ll catch ’em sooner a darned si rht this-
a-way, than ef we rode like blazes. ’Ca so why:
of we made a spurt now, we’ll git a little nearer
the imps fer a while, but the animiles cain’t
stnn’ it very long, an’ t ion down we come to a
walk. Don’t ye see the pint? While now, wi’
an hour's rest at noon an7 a snack, they can
travel all day this-a—way. ‘

“An‘ now afore we go any furder, I want to
speak a few words thet ye must promise to ‘bide
by. Ef ye won’t, why we may as well turn
back now, afore we lose our skulps.

“Fu'st an’ fo’most, ye’re in love. Never
mind; don’t redden up so. It hain‘t no harm as
I knows on, an’ nobody’s goin’ to say auythin’
ag’in' it ef she’s willin’. An’ then, you’re young
an’ hot-headed; young blood alloys is, un’ bein’
in love wi‘ the leetle burdy don’t help it any,
when she’s in danger. So much fer so much.

“Now, it's a risky job, an’ a big one we've

ot on han’, an’ one thet’ll try our ’cuteness, now
tell! ye. We need cool heads, ao’ so I want ye
to promise to be guided in everythin’——minrl
thet now—everythin’ by me. Do jest what I
tell ye, an’ don‘t do what I say not. D’yo
promise? Mind, of ye ain’t a~goin’ to keep it,

say so now, afore it‘s too late.”
‘ Yes, I promise to be controlled b your ad-
vice in everything. I know you ave more

’ skill and knowledge than I can boast of, but
don’t mistake me. I, too, have fought Indians
before now, and trailed them, for that matter.
And I trust you will not often have to complain

' of my ‘greenness,’ ” replied Busll, frankly.

“I knowed it! 4 I knowed it from the day we
war huntin’ for sign on Dry Brunch, ’member?
Isaid to mysolf, said I, thet youngster hain’t
no small pertaters, he hain’t. I see’d it warn’t
yer fu’st trip. ’ca’se ye set to work so judgmati—
cal like, an’ did it up slick. Who an’ what air

9, anyhow, of ye have no ’bjection ag’in’
llin’?”

“ There isn’t much to tell. I belong to a. well-

Was in my fa-

ther’s store; got tired and came out West to see

a little life. Like it so well, that after two
' years, here I am yet. If all turns out right, I

may return for good this fall."

“‘Right,’ I s‘pose, means of we git leetle
bird cl’ar all hunky, an’ she says yes; the kur-
nel he same; then a big weddin an’ hooray
boys! Hain‘t that about the figure, eh?"
chuckled Triplett.

“Pretty nigh, I confess. At least it will be
if ,I have my way. But, I don’t even know
whether Miss Josie likes me or no. I fear-J”

“No ye don’t, nyther young fuller, ’less
you’re blinder nor a but. I’ve see’d it for some
time. In Course she plays shy an’ cool like,
’ca'se ye do the same, but it’s thar, boy, it’s
thar for shore; an’ jest ye say the word, throw-

- 19’ in a leetle coeirin’ like, an ye’ll see it too.”

 

But, we need not prolong the conversation.
Enough has been said to show their thoughts. It
When subject each was interested in, from their
great love for its fine subject, Josie, the little
darling. As they conversed they rode at a rapid
pace, their eyes now bent upon the trail, still
broad and plain: now keenly scrutinizing the
horizon, more from habit- than otherwise, as the
had long since left behind them the trail on whic
they might chance upon travelers. Still they
were upon their guard. For in the desert there
is no knowing whom they may meet.

With an hour’s halt at noon, for refreshment
of both man and horse, they rode on without in-
terruption. The sun was still some distance
from the western horizon. when, in a timber
motte, they found the cold ashes of several
camp—fires where the Indians had stopped, evi-
dently for some time, as the grass and young
leaves of the shrubs around were closely
cropped by the teeth of their horses. Tri lett
was ighly pleased thereat, so expressing im-
self to Basi , for he averred they had gained
considerably upon them, already, judging from
various signs, that he explained at ength.
There was a single mound of that peculiar shape
that one seldom contemplates without a feeling
of awe creeping over him—of a shape that tells
of a human form sleeping its Inst, long sleep of .
the quietness and oblivion that comes but
after death—u little ways without the camping-
ground.

HThlis circumstance appeared to really puzzle
an '.

“I cain’t see into it, noways, Baz. ’Causc
why: Inever yit see‘d a Injun do a trick like
thet. ’Tain’t thar style. Now anybod that
see’d thet file 0’ dirt ’uld know what it ivers.
A Injun ’u d ’a’ kivered it up level, trampin’ it
hard, an’ then build a big fire over it, else tied
n. kupple o’ bosses over it so't they’d trample it
rough like. Then they’d hide the loose dirt,
throw it in the creek yonder. Ef we had time,
darned of I wou’dn’t open it, but we hain’t, so
let’s travel.”

They only proceeded a few steps when Hank
paused with a low whistle of chagrin. The
trail divided, one portion going north, the ‘
other bearing toward the west. The latter was
much the smaller. There was the large shod
hoof—prints of a ‘f States home,” so distinguished
from the rairie—born mustan , but that told
no tale. boy were with both parties, prob-
ably captured in some foray, or perchance
grom the train they had so lately been repulsed

rom.

“ Young feller, you take that one; I’ll go
north, an’ foller it till ’most sundown, then come
back hyar. You do the some, an’ then we’ll
know better what to do. Don’t let nothin'
’scupe yer eyes, 'cause ef we make a mistake
now, we’re blocked, sure.”

They parted and each rode upon their respec-
tive trails. It was nearly dark when they re-
turned, almost nt the same moment. Hank’s
tale was soon told. He had followed the trail
for several miles, until it ceased at the banks of
a cnnsiderahlo sized stream. It was too late for
him to ascertain whether the foe had crossed, or
proceeded up or down; the former most prob- .
ably, as it was on the direc‘ t route to their town,

 

 

 

 

v losin’ the trail.

7

Bank Triplett’s Vow. ‘ 11

 

“ Well, I had better luck,” exclaimed Basil,
as the ide concluded. “ Some two miles from
here, found where, while trying to cross a
creek, a horse had fallen and cast its rider upon
the soft ground. One of their footprints-for
there were two—was that made by a small shoe,
and I know it was that of Mim Josie, it was so
small and dainty—J7

“ Hold up I" interrupted Hank. “ A woman’s
fut ye say, but what was the other?”

“ A moccasin."

“ Thunder! 1 don’t see into it. Ef it’s she,
then ’twarn't Three Fingers arter all, as lied
her, ’cause he don’t live in thet direction. Ef
’twar on the other trail now. Are ye shore
thar’s no mistake?" '

“ Perfectly," replied Basil, confidently.

“Wal, then, we’ll take thet one, bright an‘
airly in the mornin’ ”

“But, can’t we follow to—night? The moon
shines so clear."

“We mouglit, but then we run the resk 0’
‘Sides, the homes want rest an‘

77

“Anyhow, let’s go as far as the creek. It’s
only a little wavs and we will be so much
nearer her,” plea Basil.

“ Wal, I don’t keer, ’specially as thar’s plenty
o’ grass and water their, ain’t tliar?" good-
humoredly rejoined the guide.

“First rate and plenty of.it,” and they rode
away at a rapid ace until they reached the
demgnated point, w me they encamped for the
night. __

CHAPTER V.
THE RED CAMP.

AT earliest dawn the two scouts, after a hur-
ried meal, mounted their horses, and dashed
across the shallow creek upon whose bank they
had encamped the preceding night. The trail
was plain and distinct, and they rode on a smart
center. It led direct Over a grassy rolling
prairie. The ground, sheltered by the knee—
high grass, and still damn from the recent rain,
was soft, and had been deeply imprinted by the
boots of the party our friends were searching
for.

“This is easy work, eh, Hank?”

“ Yes, easy ’noueh now, but ’twon‘t be fer
long, I’m afeard. They must know thet some
one ’uld he arter ’em helter skelter fer the gal,
an’ it beats me how keerless they be. Must
either be well-mounted, ’less they’re tarnal
fools, an’ I don’t think they air the last.

“ I can’t right]? onderstan’ it,” he continued,
afterapause. “ don‘t know whar they can
be a—drivin‘ fer. Thar ain’t ’ho town up hyar-
aways, as I knows on, an’ I thort I knowed all
about the Blackfeet. Wal, we’ll  afore long
anyhow, fer they can’t be fur sham on us."

othing occurred of moment until noon. when
they sto ped for an hour to rest their animals.
They ha ted in a small grove where there was a
spring, as Hank was well aware, he often hav—
ing tasted its cool water. Before the reached
the motte the guide dismounted, an leaving
Basil in charge of the horses, he  off in a
circuit to ascertain whether the timber had been
lately visited obnot. Finding no evidence of
such being the case, they entered and were soon

 

discussing a cold lunch. with a petites keenly
sharpened by their long ride. uddenly Hank
spoke in a hissing whisper:

“Don’t make a motion, young teller, fer yer
life don’t! ’lcss you want a bullet throu h yer
ribs. Kee on eatin’, ye fool ye, but issen.
Thar’s a njun thar ahint thet ol’ burr—oak
yonder, to yer right. I caught a glimpse 0’ his

to knot as he dodged back. Now when I slip ’

0 you jump ahint the tree, un’ keep yer eye
skinned for red-hide. Don't shoot ’less ye hev a
fa’r chaiuce. Be easy un" keep cool,” and lie
carelessly wiped his mouth with his sleeve, then
added, aloud: “ J eemi'ny crimiuy, young feller,
ye put plenty 0’ salt on thet meat. I’m diy as a
fish outen water,” and picking up a canteen lie
ai'ose,lioldiug his rifle carelessly in the other hand
and coolly walking toward the spring. T1201!
with a hiss of warned be plunged into the
undorbrush, and disappeared from view.

Basil, rifle in hand, leaped behind the tree
against which he had been leanin , carefully
keeping its trunk between him and t e oak men—
tioned. His heart beat a little quicker than or»
dinary, but his nerves were calm and like steel.
His eyes sent keen glances in every direction.
for he did not know how many foes were around
him, and did not relish a shot from behind. As
maybe imagined he awaited anxiously enough
for some signal from Bank, for he had not the
slightest idea of what were his plans. But he
had confidence in him, and knew that if human
agency could accomplish it, the guide would
bring them both out all right.

A low but hearty burst of laughter met his
ear. He started, amazed, but stepped from, his
covert us he recognized the voice of old Hank.
The latter stood leaning upon his long rifle, with
head thrown back and hand pressin
convulscd with laughter. Basil, wit wonder
written upon his countenance, exclaimed:

“The Indians, Hank—what’s the matter—
What are you laughingat?”

“Hal ha! hol ho! lnjuxis be darned; there he ’

is, ho! ho! ho!” pointing up in the tree-top.

“ Where? pshaw, that’s only a tox-squirrell

what do you mean?”

“ Thein’s ’em. Oh, Lord, what tools we be;
skeart at a foxy!" at last he muttered, sittingr
down upon the ground, faint from excessive
mirth. ‘Yas, that’s the Injun. Ye see I jist

caught a glinip’ 0‘ his tail as he whisked aroun’" I}

the tree, an’ like a blasted fool, thort’twas a
red! Jecminy criminy, two white men a‘skeeiu
ed 0’ a little foxy! Lord! Lord! we’d never hyar

the last on it of it ever got out on us,” and he ’

went off into another convulsion of merrinient.

that was joined in by Basil, while the innocent '

cause of all this commotion chattered and
whisked his bushy tail as it wondering what
possesssd the two strange animals below.

Hank, after finishing their interrupted meal,
proceeded to the cd i of the timber to see if the
coast was clear, w ile Basil busied himself in
saddling and bi-idling the horses for the start.
In a few moments the guide returned with an

expression of deep disgust upon his face, and

whis red:

“ ie the animiles uicker’n thunder. Thar’s a

red coniin’ on the bar trail,”

Together the twain glided back to the edge of » M ‘
, W V

his side, '

\

 

 

 .19],

Bank Triplett’a Vow.

 

the motto. Not over a. couple of hundred yards

distant was the form of an Indian brave coming

toward them at a sort of lope or dog-trot,
warily glancing around him. Then he crouch-
ed until the tall grass nearly concealed him from
view, only leavingr the up or portion of his head

V revealed, while they coul faintly see his fiery
black eyes glitter in the sunshine.

“Bahl we mustn’t let ’im git away. Hold,
don’t shoot, ye blasted younker! D’ye want to
tell the reds thet we’re a—comin’? Ye stop byur
an’ don’t stir or pull trigger, 'lcss he gits cl’ar o’

‘ me. El be shed see our trail, on’ git off, he’ll go
fer help, an’ then good-by for our chaino to it
leetle birdy cl’ar. Gi’ me yer knife,” and file

' glided of! through the timber.

The spy, or scout, as may be, had turned in his
course, and was close skirting the motto evidently
fearing it might conceal an enemy, or else as a
mere matter of precaution. Basil watched in
breathless suspense. with leveled rifle, and sights
. bearing full upon the plumed head of the savave
’ whenever this apneared in view. As he watc -
ed, the red-man discovered the plain trail left by
their horses—he was still without the circle left by
the guide while performing the same duty—and
instantly pussed. He halfiway arose, the better
to examine it. There could be but one meaning
to the toot-prints. They had been written upon
the soft award some hours after the larger trail
' (i been made.

He muttered a. guttural exclamation ; but never
another, for a. tall form now arises from the

round partially behind the warrior, its arm is

rawn ack, then the bright steel flashes in the
clear sunlight as it kisses through the air, and is

, buried to the 11mm the back of the Indian. A

howl of mingled pain and surprise bursts from
his lips; then he turns, only to be borne to the
ground by the powerful form of Hank Triplett,
whose hrawny mnd effectually stifles the r1eath~

c that arises to his lips.

‘Came, feller, give us a lift, an’ let’s put the

. purp eaten the way,” remarked Hank, coolly.

The two carried the body into the bushes,

" where they concealed it beyond chance of dis-

covery, at least for a time.
, ‘v‘ A purty throw, warn’t it?"

, “Yes; but who is he, and what do you think

he was after?”

. V “ Wu], he is, or rayther wits, a dirty Sioux,

an' that puzzles me. What on nirth is one 0' his
tribe a-doin’ with Blackfeet? Beats my time all
holler. I’m afeard, boy, ’at we’ve made a big

:, mistake unifollered the wrong trail! Blamed

at I’don’t. But it cain’t be helped now, an’ we
mustoee it out.

f‘As to what he war arter, that's plain. He
war sent back to see if anybody war a—follerin‘

' their trail.”

', “But come,” replied Croteau, “ don?t let’s

waste time talking but be up and doing,” as he
led forth the horses.

“Not so fast, youngster: not so fast, et ye

‘ . It ’pears like as of thar wern’t no need

of any sich hurry. an' new I thinks on it, ye
mou ht on well slip the hits outen the horses'

122 ha. an’ let ’em eat their fill. They’ll need it

1 flare long.” coolly rejoined Triplett, as be seated

himself man a log. at the same time fillinc‘ his

..._.-‘.MWM_MW “new

/ ;. : ..7AfiiM¥-3‘A;W~%;tk f.

“.4 . s

  
  
      
    
  
  

r «.

   

 

pipe With tobahco, and lighting it with a “ prai- .

 

rie match,” then puffing ahuge column of smoke
toward the astonished youth, who stared at him
as if in doubt whether he had not suddenly lost
his senses.

“What on earth do
you mad?”

“No; but I will be of ye don’t do as I tell ya.
Fix the critters fu’st, an’ then I’ll tell ye my
reasons." * ‘

This was soon done,and Basil seated himself
alongside’Triplett, who said:

“ Fu’st smoke a pipe an7 take it easy. Ye see
this red is. or rather was, one 0’ them cha s
we’re arter; his actions showed that plaln
enough. Wal, he‘war sent back to see of any-
body war o-follerin’ ’ein. an7 he come on foot.
Consequently he couldn’t hev many miles to
travel, else e’d tuck a. boss. An’ he would ‘u’
done so anyhow, of they warn’t a’most shore
they war trailed; fer a man on foot can hide
and dodge about better’n one wi’ a boss. Now
thar’s two ways. Eyther he tuck a. boss an’
left him a ways back while he come to recon-
noiter, else he was afoot altogether. But ef the
fu’st, why didn’t he begin to creep sooner’n' he
did?

you mean, Hank? Are

“ An’ now, as I make it, the imps hain’t more‘n
six miles off, a-campin’, on the furder side 0’ Big
Stony. I knows the place, an‘ soon as I gits my
smoke out, I’ll take a trump out that way, an’
see for shore. Ye see, of we go ahead on the
bosses, some 0’ the reds ’11 spy us shore. I can
sneak up, an’ they won’t be a. bit the wiser.
Then I’ll come back, an’ at dark we’ll start, an’
be in plenty time to do what we can onder kiver
2; night. Don’t ye see the p’int?” concluded

an .

“ But why do they halt so near if they think
they are pursued, especially as their force is so
small?"

“I don’t know. It’s a queerious afl’air from
fu‘st to last. I never see’d its like afore, an’
blame me of I want to ag’in,” pettishly ejaculated
Triplett, knocking the ashes out of his pipe, and
returningitto the holder. “ But now, youngster,
I’m goin’, an’ I want ye, fu’st, to tie the bosses
to some tree whar the bushes is thick, an’ guv
’em lenty to eat. Leave the saddles an” bridles
on, ut don’t pit the bits in. Then ye must
keep a good lookout, kee in’ clus’ kivered, an'
don’t let any one come nig afore ye see ’em.
Ei‘ they shed come, don’t make a break onless ye
hev to, an’ then do yer best to save both the
bosses, ’ca’se ’thout them we’re galayed, shore. ‘
Now mind ” and Hank glided o , steeping al~
most to a evel with the grass, trailing ‘s rifle
in one hand. i, ' L

Several hours elapsed before his return, that
dragged wearin enough to the excited brain of
the young man, as he slowly paced the roundsof
the grove. Naturally his mind was filled with
thoughts of Josie Finger, and his heart misgave
him as he realized the diflicult task he had un-
dertaken. As he weighed the chances for and
against its success, the case appeared almost
hopeless. But he did not despair—1t was not
in him to do so. He shook ofi his torebodings,
and gave himself up to building air castles, u n
a weak and insecure foundation ’tis true. i: .
they were none the less beautiful and pleasant- «
He did not dare think she loved him,th

 

 

 

  

 

 

 

 Triplett’s Vow.

18‘

 

trusted to win her in time. She only knew him
as a common teamster, as did her father, who
he knew was very IFreud, and a man to reject
scornfully such an a lance for his almost idol-
ized dau hter. But he had little fear on that
score. e knew that his true situation in life
would satisfy even him, when all was known.
Thou h occupied with these fancies, Basil was
not neg igent of the trust reposed in him by the
guide, and observed the latter while et some
istauce from the motto, and when 0 drew
nearer hailed him in a cautious tone. This
seemed to gratify Triplett, and he expressed as
much. In reply to the numerous queries of
Elsi], as to whether he had seen Josie, Hank re
p i :
“ al,no, not adzactly; but I reckon it’s all
ri ht. Thar’s a female woman thara. pris’ner,
an who else could it be but her? Fact is, young
feller, things is mixed up a heap now, I tell ye,
an’ blamed ef I see how it all comes about!” vex-
edly exclaimed the worthy guide. .
‘ Fu’st and fo’niost, leetle birdy was captured

b Three Fingers‘ Blackfeet; that’s plain, so fur. ,

a], we follered ’em ontil the trail divided, an'
tuck the one thet hed a al’s futprints on. An’
now comes the bother. hat on airth did the
chief let them infamal prairie irates or road-
agen‘ts hev her fer ef he wante her so mighty
bad hisself?” -

“ The road-agents—what do you mean?” ex-
claimed Basil, with a sinkin heart. ,

“Jest what I said,” hasti y replied Triplett.
“The trail we‘re on is made by them rascals.
Part on ’em air white, or rayther pertend to be,
wi’ a smart spi'inklin’ of Injuns, makin' p’r’aps a
kupple 0’ dozen in all. They’s met another gang
at the ford, I reckon.

“ Ye see, it turned out jest as I ’spected, an’ I
found tha’r camp at the ford on the ‘ Stony.’
They’ve stuck up‘a kupple o’ tents, an’ ’ ear to
be goin’ to make a stay of it. Whether ong or
not, I cain’t say. They’re in a hard place to
enter unbeknown to ’em. ’Tany rate it’ll be
long enough fer our puppose. As I layed low in
the bushes, takin’ notes, so’s to l’arn the best
way to git in, I saw a white lift the door 0’ one
o' the tents to go in an’ I caught a glimp’ o’
leetle hirdy in the furder end. I didn’t gitmore’n
half a peep, but ’twar enough, so I sloped, and
bowel am.”

“Well, but when do you start, and what ar
your lens?” eagerly queried Basil. '

“ 0t afore dark; so {9 mought jest as well
take it cool. As to the ow, we cain’t fou’t ’em,
so we must trust to sarcumvention. We’ll fix it
30‘s to git clue to the ford, then leave the bosses
wi’ a, while I cross over an’ try for the leetle
hlr y. Stop!” he added, peremptorily, as Basil
was about to insist upon sharingthe danger with
him. “ I know what I’m about, an’ one kin do
a. mi hty Sight better than two. Ef I kin git
her c ’ar, well an’  I’ll make tracks fer ye,
an" once mounted, reckon we kin guv ’em the

gobg."
“ at why don’t you want to take the horses
close to the river l"

«"‘Ca’sa it's too rocky, an’ they mou ht be
h’ard. In course, we could muffle ’em, ut it
would be runn an’ that’s enough

in’ a ,
, ’thout that," replied Hank, who began carelessly

 

fiBlling his pipe, in which he was imitated by
asil.

During the time that must elapse before dark,
the hour they intended starting upon their per-'
ilous mission they did not neglect keepinga good
lookout to prevent discovery, should any enemy
chance that way. But they were not disturbed,
and as the sun sunk behind the western horizon,
they began preparations for starting for the en—
emy’s camp.

 

CHAPTER VI.

’ THE DEATH-SHOT. . ‘_ .

NIGHT came at last. and with it the wind
rose, moaning and howling over the prairie
while the moon was obscured by the dense and
gloomy clouds that shrouded the earth be-
low in darkness. It seemed as though Provi-
deuce was smiling upon them, and the spirits of!
our two friends rose hi her.

A line of timber an undergrowth bordered
the stream, of perhaps a hundred yards in
width, and the scouts, who had cautiously
led their horses for the last halbmile,
tied them just within the outskirts, where
they would be easy of access, yet se-
cure from discovery by any person passing
nigh, unless they betrayed their roximity by
some noise. But this must be c need, and
Hank departed for the enemy’s camp, with a.
strict injunctionto Basil not toleave the ani-
mals for a moment, unless he (Triplett) was, dis- .
covered by the foe. Then he was to come asfar ,
as the river-bank, to lend a hand it necessary;
but should the guide gist captured he was to flee
with the horses bac to the fort, and leada
party back to efl‘ect what they could.

Slowly and cautiously Hank crossed the river, ' "

noting the best route by which to return, so as '
to avoid thenumerouiohstaclcs; and ttnsn helay 
half-concealed in th
the hostile encampment. I ~
This was pitched close to the river-edge, a lit- f
tle below the ford. A steep rocky blufl‘ covered

the rear on one side; the other, a. clear prairie , ,
devoid of undergrowth, and covered with a' »'
wmore luxn-‘, '

smooth carpet of grass, that
riant as it neared the creek. hey did not ap- ,
pear to heed discovery, for a half-dozen, fires, 
still gleamed between the water and. two tents. 5
A little in the rear of the fires and to the left of 
the tents, were stretched a score of men ‘ , ‘
in wild and rough habiliments, while the wea-
pons glittered in their belts as they moved, or “
the fires glowed more brightly as some b  '
dro ped into them. ’ " 

ank noticed all this with a lance of his
keen gray eye, but he uttered a 5' cut curse as
he caught sight of the shadowy form of a. sentiw .,
nel as he s alked between the guide and the
fires. Cautioust stealing around to the rear of '
the tents, close to the bluff. Hank crouchedbe- 

hind one of them, undecided what course [to ’2

pursue. Presently he muttered: V, 
“ It has got to he did, fer thar’s no gittlng lees ,.
tle birdy away while that red’s avmaroh‘m’ that. , “
That’s settled l” drawing his knife from its leafli- :
ern sheath, and thrusting the blade up
sleeve, holding the buckhorn halls in his hand. ,‘
Then prostrating himself he stealthiiy crawl-
ed away from the tent like an enormous 

 

grass upon the verge of 

m..

    
 
 
 

 

 

14 Hank Triplett'a Vow.

 

careful] keeping within the dense shadow cast
by the luff, and slowly ap )roached the back
of the guard. When near-11y at the point he
wished to attain, his hand inadvertently pressed
u no a dried twig, snapping it, with a slight
n rise that attracted the attention of the
sentinel, who slole advanced in the direction
of the noise, cautiously peering,r through the
d'irkness, and releasing the steel hatchet from
his belt as he did so.

Mentally cursing his carelessness, the scout
prepared for the struggle that now appeared inv
evitable. The savage noiselessly approached,
but the glare of the fires beyond shining in his
eyes must have partially blinded him, for he
noted not the dusky, shadow-like form of the
guide, who was now almost at his feet. At the
same time his own body loomed up against the
sky. Suddenly Hank leaped up before him,
fastening a vise-like gri upon his throat, a
short, silent struggle, a ew slight uivers, n
convulsive gurgle, and those muscular imbs are
stilled forever. Gently lowering the body to
the ground, Hunk glanced arouan to learn if the
slight noise had alarmed the camp, but hear-
ing nothin he lifted the corpse in his arms
and careful y pushed it into the water, where it
floated with the current down the river.

Triplett now returned to the camp, and glided
to ward the tent where he had seen the captive
' secured. As he listened with his ear closely

against the canvas, he heard the low sobbings

of some one in distress. This he doubted not
was Josie Finger. He now moved around to—
ward the entrance, but was not a little startled
and disconcerted at perceiving the motionless
form of a man sitting in front of the doorway,
or rather flap of canvas that answered for that

purpose. He soon (’scovcred that it was a

white man, who we lazily putting away upon

his pipe.

Again he crept forward—the deadly knife
was used but the blow was not instantaneously
fatal, an' the man writhed from his grasp, at
the same time uttering a loud scream of agony.

A terrible shriek burst from the interior of
the tent as Hank darted in, and catching up
too captive as though she was an infant, he
pl iced one hand over her mouth to stifle her
screams, and then darted to the river. Ashe
plunged in, he saw that the group by the fire—

‘side were hastily grasping their weapons and
houndln toward the spot where they heard
the spins . Just then the moon broke from be
hind a cloud, and plainly revealed his form to
the eyes of his enemies. The loud cry of dis-
covery was mingled with a volley of rifle and

‘ pistol-balls, and a shar twinge in the right side
of the uide told him t at at least one ball had
reache its mark. Then came one single report,
and he heard a dull crash, and then a stifled
in mi from his fair burden, which told him that
the bullet was fatal.

For an instant, he half—turned and paused as
if toface his enemies, and appeared aboutto dart
forward to take a summaryr vengeance for the
dastardly shot. But prudence prevented him.
He saw the band of yelling miscreants plunge
into the. river. and knew that there could be
butane ending to such an act. That he would
be overpowered by more force of numbers. So

 

he continued his fli ht, with heart almost burstc
ing with grief, for e loved Josie Finger—loved
her with all the fervor of his great soul; and
now she was dead! dead—killed in his arms,
and he vowed a solemn oath, to wreak vengeance
upon her murderers.

As he reached the shore, his pursuers were
nearly in the middle of the stream. The moon
still shone brightly, and he uttered a shout of
defiance as he darted into the friendly timber.
He could hear the tramp of his comrade as he
hastened toward the river, and also his voice as
he shouted encouragement. Then he cried:

“Go hack—— 0 back to the bosses; I’m comin’l”
for he dreade the result, should Basil set eyes
eyes upon the form of his murdered love.

Darting to one side of the trail, Hank soon
reached a dense clump of bushes, in which he
hastily placed the body of the young girl. He
knew that the pursuit would be hot. and to es-
cape safely would require all their skill and
coolness. And he knew, that did Croteau learn
what had befallen, he would either become so
stupefied as to be hel less, else so desperate that
all would be ruin . So leaving the hapless
victim, he glided at his utmost speed toward
the spot where the horses had been left. But
the momentary delay had nearly proved fatal.
He could hear the loud crashing of the pirates
as they darted along, not a score of paces in his
rear. Then he heard a loud whistle from Basil,
and a few more leaps carried him to the side of
his whinnying horse. As he lea d to the and
dle, he struck Basil’s horse a vio out blow, and
then they sped along the edge of the timber, so
as to keep within the shadows cast by the over-
hanging trees.

Then came the wild ells of baffled rage, in-
termingling with whic they could distinguish
the order: “ Let’s get the horses!" A portion
of the band hotly pursued them on foot, While
others hastened back for their animals.

Hank did not vouchsafe any re lyto the num-
berless inquiries put to him by asil, as to how
he came to be discovered, an whether he had
seen Josie; save that he would tell his story
when they were out of danger: he did not dare
break the dreadful news as yet.

For half an hour they rode as rapidly as the
darkness and nature of the ground would per-
mit; then quoth Hank:

“ Come, oun feller, let’s make a turn on ’em
up this ho] er. ey cain’t see us nor our trail
nyther, it‘s so dark.”

They rode in a slow center at a right angle
from the direction they had been pursuing, and
then, when a mile had been traversed, turned,
and sped ra idly back toward the ford. While
doing this, ri Iett pondered anxiously, as to
the course he s ould pursue—whether he should
tell the whole truth at once, or wait until he
gained possession of the body, which was his
present object. He could not leave her where
she was for the wild beasts to find, should the

pirates not discover her on her return, but re?

solved that she should have Christian burial. In
reply to the renewed queries of the anxious
lover, he spoke solemnly. at the same time lay-
ing his hand tenderly upon the arm of Basil.

‘ Yes, I see'd her, boy; see’d her, an’ held her
in my arms—d”

i , ’

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hank Triplett’s Vow. ‘ ' 155*

 

‘ You did? Why did ou leave her then?” al-
most fiercely demanded asil. r

“The Lord knows ’twarn’t my fault; I’d ’a’
died at I could, to save one finger o’ the leetle
bird from harm."

“ y God, Hank! what do you mean? Is she
—Josie—-hurtl” cried Croteau, while a cold, icy
hand seemed grasping his heart.

“ No, boy, she hain’t hurt; she cain’t be hurt
no longer,” replied Hank while the large, scald—
ing tears trickled through the hairy mass that
covered his face. “ Yas, she’s free now, and
won’t know any more trouble an’ danger. Be a
man, youngster, be a maul The Lord has took
her home to him. We might ’a’ knowed it- fer
she was too good an’ pure an’ bright to live long
wi’ us. I know it’s hard, boy, orful hard, an’ by
my heart I can tell what ye must feel. Cheer
up an’ don’t take it so hard,” he added, as he
steadied the tottering form of the stricken youth,
who seemed stupefied by the terrible shock.

“ I can feel fer ye, lad, I can, fer I loved her,
God only knows how much. She ’peared like a
part 0’ my heart, she did, an’ now she’s gone,
dead—killed by them infarnal devilsl Bear up,

Gangster, be a man; we’ve got work More us.
§as, work—work,“ an’ thet is to hev revenge on
them villions as has did this l" fiercely gritted the
guide, as his form seemed to dilate, while his
eyes glowed with a deadly hate as he hissed the
words.

“ Yes, revenge, revenge is good—oh, so sweetl
and we will revel in it, you and 1, old friend,”
wildly replied Basil, as be straightened up in his
saddle, and gripped his rifle with a force as
though he would crush the steel barrel.

During this time they had been uncdnscious—
1y riding forward at a rapid rate and now they
were nearly opposite the ford. They proceeded
with more cautiOn, for they did not know how
many of the enem were at the camp or lurk-
ing around the tim er. They struck the woods
at a point a little below where they halted be-
fore, and dismounting, Hank left Basil with the
horses, and cautiously glided toward the covert
where he had left the murdered girl. As he
neared the spot, he suddenly became aware of
there being another person near the point he
was aiming for. By changing his position he
at length made out the dusky form of a man,
who was slowly pacing to and fro beneath the
spreading boughs of a tree, where there was a
small space clear from underbrush. The guide’s
rifle leaped to his check as if by instinct. but
was quickly lowered. for he dared not fire, as he
did not know how many foes were nigh. Then
he sought and found a dried stick that he snapped
with a sha noise, at the same time drawing
his knife. - 9 crack met the ear of the pirate,
and he paused in his tramp and peered cautioust
through the gloom. Hank decided upon a hold
course, and as the man utterqi the challenge,
“ Who’s thari” he replied, in a gruff tone:

“ It’s me; is that you, J inn?"

“ No, ‘tain’t Jim; an’ who in thunder is me?”
replied the pirate.

‘ Why, don‘t you know me?” at the same time
walking boldly forward, carefully keeping his
face in the shadow. ,

“ Whonthet you, Simpson?”

I g “ Yes,” answered Triplett, with a laugh, as he

i ’ 5f;

 

drew close to the unsuspecting man. “ It’s ml”
and with a panther—like bound he grasped the
pirate by the throat and buried his long blade '
(ice in his breast.

he blow was repeated, although there was
no need of that, for the man died without a
groan. Hank lowered the corpse to the ground,
and coolly wiped his knife upon its garments be-
fore returning it to its sheath. muttering: ,

“ ‘Tain’t of’en thet I’ve did the like 0’ this,
leastways to one who called hisself a white man.
But he desarved it all an’ more too, which no
doubt his master’ll give him afore long. He’s
one 0’ them thet killed leetle birdy, an’ it’s jist
what’ll overtake the others too, ’less I miss my

uess.”

g A cloud rolled over the moon. and it was a. few
moments before the guide could find the exact
place where he had left the irl’s body, but
then, reverently lifting it in is arms, he re-
traced his footsteps until he reached the spot
where Basil was awaiting his return with the
horses. N ot a word was spoken as the bereaved
lover bent over in his saddle and relieved Trip-
lett of his burden. Hank mounted. and then
mutely offered to take the corpse, but Basil 4
motioned him off with an impatient gesture,~
muttering:

“ No, no, old friend, she is mine now—all
mine. No other arms shall hold her but mine,
for the short time she remains above earth.
Mine, mine, all mine nowl” and he pressed a
frenzied kiss upon the cold brow.

Triplett did not reply—«he could not. {His
heart was too full of woe, and a huge lump 1
seemed to keep rising in his throat that he in - ' '
vain tried to swallow. It was the first great 
grief that had befallen him since childhood. 7 , ,,

Early in life be had lost both father and ' ’
mother, murdered in the dead of night by the ; *
bloodthirsty red-men. He was too youngthen 
for the blow to make a very doe impression *
upon his mind: but as he grew 01 er, the story
was related to him from time to time, until he '2 l -
‘oined a band of trapfiers bound for the far ‘

orthwest, and struck is first blow for venge- =’
ance. Years had elapsed since then, and be had f" 7
clearly repaid the debt‘ still he did not abandon "
his purpose, although e was not as ferocious as “ '
formerly. He had never known the 101's of wife
or children, and until he had met with sweet
Josie Finger he knew not the wealth of love, his
heart was capable of bestowing. But he loved " V
her, and would gladly have laid down his life to 
save her one pang, and now. this was the end! in

They were rapidly speeding across the prairie, ‘ r ‘-
back toward the motto they had left at dusk. 
Basil touched not the rein: he was fully absorbed L;
with the form of his dead love that lay so cold ;
and still within his arms. But his horse was;
well trained, and kept close to that of the guide, » '
who led the way. , V t 

Just now the full, bright moon sailedin all "
her splendor from beneath a cloud, and cast a
flood of light upon the swiftly-moving forms bo-
neath. The guide heard a cry. and turning in

his saddle beheld Basil suddenly check his horse  
and gaze wildly upon the pale face that nestled
against his shoulder. Then he uttered another
cry so wild and full ofdjoy that Tfiplett feared

gone crazy in reality

 

his young comrade ha

    

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11'!“ *;¥=»E-rr:w:;u;::1_a when...” n... .. 4,... we... 5.

     

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, “PM... ,.

16 Bank Triplett's Vow.

 

and spurred his horse back to his side. Then he
saw too knew the whole truth, and with a fer—
vent “ Thank God!” caught the slight form as it
was esca ing from the relaxed grasp of Basil,
and gent y lowered it to the ground as he dis-
mounted.

“Speak, old friend, speak, and tell me if it
is all a dream, a terrible dream?"

“Praise the Lord, boy, 7tnin’t no dream.
’Taiii?t our leetle bird as is killed at all, but
some one else’sl Than God for His mercy!”
solemnly replied Bank, While tears of joy rolled
down his cheeks.

Basil uttered one long cry of joy, and would
have fallen from his saddle had not the strou
arm of his comrade upheld him, then assisted
him to all ht. They stood over that fair form,
showing 0 ear and distinct in the pale incon-
light, and saw that they had been mistaken—
that it was a stranger over whom they had
mourned, thinking the victim was Josie Pinger.

She was fair, despite the disfiguring Wound
that had caused her death, and stained the
bri ht, olden locks that hung around her face,
wi a eeper tinge. She was young, and her
form was sli ht but perfectly molded, and she
doubtless been as dearly beloved by some
persons as the being she had been mistaken for.

But our friends soon threw of! the mental in—
cubus that fettered their minds, for they knew
that they must be far distant before day dawn—
ed—upon the back track to the spot where they
had taken the wrong trail.

They mounted; this time Hank supported the
body of the unfortunate who had met such a
terrible end, and rode rapidly until they gained.
the point they were aiming for. Then they hol-
lowed out a rude, shallow grave with their
knives, throwing out the loosened dirt with their
hands, and gent y lowered the body to its last
resting-place on earth, wrapped in one‘of their
blankets. The dirt was filled in and closely
pressed down; then Basil offered up a fervent
prayer for the repose of the fair unknown whom
theyhad met in so stran a manner. Hank
piled a lot of brush upon t e spot and set fire to
it, for he knew that then the ave would never

' be molested by any an’mals, w atever fate might
\

await it from man.

Then, with feblings of joy and sadness, they
spurred out from the moths and galloped away
over the prairie, to start anew upon the trail
they had so unfortunately abandoned.

CHAPTER VII.
THE 111an HYENAS.

LEAVING our heroes for the time bein , we
must follow the fortunes of our heroine, osie
nger, and her maiden aunt, Miss Medora, and
learn how they fared during their captivity.

As before stated, when the attack upon the
emigrant—train began, the two ladies sought
refuge within the ambulance that had been their
conveyance from their far-distant home.
Through the beginning of the conflict they wore
not disturbed or harmed, although the vehicle

 

I was more than once struck by some random mis.
1110. But it is needless to say that they were

tealny alarmed, and every moment expected
to hear the triumphant yells oi! the foe, announc-
ing the defeat of the whites. It seemed as

 

thou h the struggle could not last a minute, so
terrl 1e was the din, and that a human bein

could not possibly survive the deadly showers o

rifle-balls and arrows that whizzed and hurtled
through the air. What then was their surprise
and joy when the colonel drew near and told
them the real facts—that so few had been killed
and wounded. Their spirits began to revive,
and they allowed a faint ray to lighten their

hearts, that they might chance to live through ‘

that horrible night, and witness the defeat of
their bloodthirsty foes.

Then came that last terrific onslaught, and as
they peered through the crevices of the curtains
they could see the dusky fiends as they swarme
over the barricade, and then the hand—in—hand
conflict. The):r were gazing appalled upon the
battle, when t e ambulance was roughly shaken,
and the curtain severed with the slashing stroke
of a knife. A hideous, paint-bedaubed face was
thrust close to that of Josie, and then, with a
gratified grunt, the intruder grasped her slight
form, uttering a few words of command to his
followers, who seized the thin, wiry form of the
spinster, and both were dragged from the car-
riage, it being overthrown in the struggle. The
savage who held Josie uttered the long-drawn,
quavering cry of retreat, Then, as she recover-
ed her speech, she shrieked at the top of her
voice for help. A hand was pressed roughly
over her mouth, while her ca tor hastily scram-
bled over the barricade and ed.

She lost all consciousness then, and did not re-
cover her senses until the Indians had reached
their horses and mounted. Then she awoke,
only to find herself a helpless captive, tightly
clasped to the brawny breast of a savage, sup-
ported before him upon the horse’s withers.
Then they dashed out from the timber, but as
they did so, she turned her head and beheld the
faint, shadowy forms of two persons rapidly
speeding toward them. Instinctively she knew
they were friends, and uttered the cry for he]
that reached the ears of the guide and Basi .
Then she saw the bright flame spout from the
muzzle of the guide’s rifle, and adull thud as
her captor relaxed his grasp and they both fell
to the ground to ether. They were lifted again,
and then the In ians sped onward.

But Hank’s shot was not fatal, although all
thought so at first. The ball had glanced off
from the side of the savage’s head, fracturing
the skull but not causing death, and Three
Fingers, the head war—chief of the Kainna
branch or division of the :Blackfeet. still lived,
His body was lifted up and carefully balanced
before a brave, while the flight was still con-
tinued, for the Indians anticipated instant pur-
suit by the whites.

When Josie saw that hope vanish, faint as it
was, she gave one wild, wailin cry of anguish
and again swooned away. he antiquated
spinster for a wonder made no outcry; indeed,
as she afterward affirmed privately to Josie, her
native modesty was so shocked at finding her—
self so closely embraced bv the arms of a man,
and that man on dishabille, that she could not
utter a word! However, be that as it may. she
lay a passive captive in the grasp of a huge,
greasy, paint—besmeared Blackfoot, who sat his
wilrl, half-tamed mustang like a centaur.

 

 

 

 

r Fingers, being conveyed as

in the attack upon t

Hank Triplett'u Vow.

it,

 

When day broke, no signs of pursuit being
visible, the defeated war-party made a short
halt at a creek that lay across the trail they
must follow, and the wound of their Chieftain
was examined and carefully dressed. He did
not appear to be suffering, and breathed calmly
and regularly, but was unconscious. Then he
was placed in a sort of litter made by stretching
a couple of buffalo-skins between two horses, so
as to avoid any unnecessary jolting, while a
warrior rode at the head of each to keep them
' sition.

hile this was being accomplished, and after
a consultation between the principal braves, the
dead savages they had recovered from the battle-
round were conveyed a short distance down
(7 e creek and temporarily placed in a consider-
able sized cave, the entrance of which was se-
curely hidden from any chance observer—a
huge stone being rolled before the mouth to ex—
clude Wild animals. The trail was carefully obr-
literated as the returned. ‘

Then the flig t was continued, but at a slower
pace than before, for they had gained such a
start that they knew there was little danger of
being overtaken by a pursuing party of the
whites. should such follow. Josie had recovered
her consciousness, but the captives were too de-
spondent to converse, even had they been allow-
ed such indulgence by their ca tors.

At noon they halted at the ittle grove where
our friends were so unfortunately thrown off
the right trail into the one they followed with
such a tragical ending. And now we may as
well state the real facts.

It appears that the band of pirates or road-
agents had entered the trail of the Indians at 8.

int where they had crossed a creek whose
gznks were very rocky, extending a good dis
tance on either side of the water. This was the
reason why the new trail was not perceived by
the guide. They paused only long enough at the
motte to bury one of their comrades who had
died on the road from the effects of a gunshot
wound received that same day in. an attack on a
party of emigrants. They feared the return of
the war-part or some of their scouts, being
ignorant of t e real facts, and so hastened off as
soon as they had completed their task.

At the ford a few miles distant, while attempt-
in to cross, the horse bearing their captives
fe , throwing both its riders, thus leaving the
footprints that lured our two scouts from the
trail they would otherwise have followed.

,Who the unfortunate maiden was who had
gist such an untoward end, they never learned,

nd could only conjecture that she had been ab-
ducted at the fight in which the outlaw met his
death. To resume:

The war-party halted at the grove, both to
allow their horses the rest and food theyso much
needed, as well as to refresh themselves after
the conflict and the arduous ride they had since
undergone.

After a couple of. hours’ rest, the Blackfeet
again pursued their journey, their chief, Three
before. But the
captives were both mounted on led horses, a
considerable number of which were along, being
those once owned hi the braves who had fallen

e wagon-train.

 

 

Josie’s hopes were revived as she noted the
apparent negligence with which they were
guarded. Her naturally buoyant spirit could
not long be subdued, and vague, oftentimes

ridiculous plans of escape were weighed in her '

mind, only to be discarded as she learned their
folly. Still, she did not abandon her new-found
hope—it was too sweet to be relinquished, and
she broached the subject to her aunt, who rode
close by her side. The spinstcr, although rather
romantic upon one subject, as doubtless the
reader has learned, was nevertheless very sensi-
bllle and reasonable upon other points. Quoth
s e

ly. Our friends will not neglect us, and I’m
lookin’ for ’cm every identical minute.”

“Yes, but aunty, they may not know where
we are, or else be too late to do any good,” re«
plied Josie despondently.

d ‘z‘nlNell, but what can us two poor lone women
0.

“Why you see, I’ve thought of that.
Indians don’t appear to be very watchful, and
as we are pretty well mounted, why not give
them a race? We might get away, for I don’t
believe they would shoot us. Anyhow, we might
try, and by riding straight back the way we
came, we would meet our friends as they follow
our tracks,” whispered poor verdant Josie, in a
low, anxious tone, bending toward her aunt to
prevent their captors from hearing what she
said if by any chance they should understand

Egg ish.

iss Medora did not reply for some moments,
during which she appeared weighing the chances
for and against the plan.

“ It won’t do, Josie. If we hain’t got the
worst horses, there’s lots of better and faster
ones among them, and we would be caught be—
fore we rode half a mile, even if the Injuns
didn’t shoot us at the start. No, we must wait
as patiently for other help as we can.”

‘ I don’t think,” she resumed, after a slight
pause, s eaking in a. more hopeful tone, “ I don’t
think t at Hank—Mr. Tripplc, I should say,”
blushing slightly, “ will give us u so Without a
trial, and he is a smart man, you ow. Every—
body says so !”

“ hope so, I’m sure,” sighed Josie, ho less
ly, “but I fear it will be all in vain. An , dear
papa—we don’t know whether he is alive or
noti” and her eyes filled with tears, while her

“"Tain’t no use, child; we must wait patient- .

The "

A . __.,~rl:’\ .441, u...» ,,Mmr"flz'tn1‘r .

.,‘,¢.,; by)“.

:rf’ .

 

Jamie m:

lip quivered at the mournful picture her words ‘ l',

conjured up.

“ Don't cry,
ingli; “ I don‘t think he‘s hurt, and am lookin’
for Lin and Mr. Tripple, and that conceited,
stuck up prig, Basil Croteau—”

“ Why, Aunt Medora, how can you? Basil—
Mr. Croteau isn’t stuck up in the least. I‘m
sure he has always acted like a perfect gentle-
man, and I don’t see why you dislike him so!”
indi antly replied our eroine.

“ h, ho! that’s the w y
If I’d a-known you were in love—”

A spirited rejoinder was upon the panting lips

of Josie, but it was checked by one of the savm

ages. who grumbled:
“Too much talk for squaws.

Mus’ stop or
me tie tongue. I Ugh!” " ‘

I
v

the wind blows, is m '

child,” said the other, comfort? ,3

95.5.5 i,» en

13.,» [we "

 

  

 

 

 

 

 

18

 
 

This put a stop to the conversation for the
time being, and they rode on in silence.

Nothing worthy of note occurred during the
succeeding two days. The party traveled at a
steady ace that rapidly devoured the distance,
only he. ting for rest at noon and night.

At noon of the fourth day succeeding the at-
tack, while the war-party were halted in a grove
of trees that bordered a stream running at the
base of a. long, low hill, and awaiting the return
of a party of hunters who, as usual, had sallied
out for food immediately the stream had been
reached, they were thrown into commotion by
the report of. one of the hunters, who apparent—
ly brought tidings of import, but whet er wel—
come or otherwise, our friends could not deter
mine. Had they understood the Blackfoot
tongue, they would have learned that a large

arty of their hereditary enemies, the Upsaro-

as, or Crows, had been discovered by him while
hunting. He had just shot at a deer when they
came in sight. Whether he had been discovered
or not he could not say, but thought it probable
he had been. Just at this point the remainder
of the party returned with the additional infor-
mation that they had been seen, and that the
Crows had halted for a consultation, they hav-
ing discovered the trail of the Blackfeet, and
that they were fully as strong in numbers, and
were upon the war-path.

A battle was now inevitable, and the Black-
feet were nothing loth to gain a few scalps, to
say nothing of the pleasure of defeatin<r the
cowardly (as they centemptuously termed t em)
Crows by risking their own lives; and discard-
in;’ all unnecessary trap iugs, awaited the ap-
pearance of the enemy. be two captives were
placed near the insensible form of the war-chief,
who lay half—reclining against the moss-covered
trunk of a gigantic oak tree. A half-dozen

, braves were stationed around him as a guard.

They were not kept long in suspense, for the
Crows soon hove in sight, and rode swiftly to
within a couple of hundred yards of the timber,
when the main body paused, while a half-score
.oi‘ the younger and rasher braves kept on until
about half-way between the two parties, then
taunted the Blackfoot women. daring them out
from their cover. This was more than their
bl )od could brook, and a squad spurred forth,
burning to chastise the presumptuous braggarts
who, however, did not appear much in awe of
them, but met them fairly hand to hand, after
several saddles had been emptied on both sides
by the preparatory fli hts of arrows and rifle-
balls. The conflict ha scarcely begun when the
unit] body of the Crows dashed forward, sound-
in; their war—wh )op, which was reechoed with
interest as the Blackfeet advanced in th ir turn,
and then the battle raged right savagely.

For the time neither part appeared to have
the advantage, but each stu bornly maintained
their ground. After the first volley the rifles
were cast aside as useless, but bows and arrows
were still in requisition and inflicted consider-
able damage on either side. Then they came to
still closer quarters and spear~thrusts were ex-
changed; blows from, tomahawks and knife-
thrust<,were met with like compliments. The
clash of steel, wild yells of victory, the tramplin

' ,- and neighing of steeds, who appeared as excite

nu. ..
5‘” “mm , \

 

Hank Triplett’s Vow.

and eager for battle as their masters, together
with the ever—shifting tableau, formed a. scene
worthy of pandemonium. 'l‘hon slowly, but
surely, the Crows press back their enemies.

And now our heroine, J ()le Piugcr, was called
upon to perform an important part in this dread
drama of life and death, and most creditany
did she acquit herself in a part so foreign to her
woman’s nature. The woods were comparative-
ly free from underbrush and the fight had spread
over a considerable space of ground, so that the
group under the tree were somewhat exposed.

uring the momentary reverse, experienced by
their comrades, the guards appointed to watch
over the safety of their wounded chief were
led from their charge by the exhilarating sounds
23f war, and they dashed into the midst of the

ray. ,

As may be supposed, the women watched its
progress with an absorbing interest, mingled
with great fear. They did not know how it
would chi, and had not much choice between
the two parties. The tray now receded, and
they were somewhat relieved at the cessation of
the deadly missiles that often hurtled in close
proximity to their position. But this was short.
lived, for Josie beheld a huge, stalwart Crow
brave !‘ irt toward the tree, beneath which
Three Fingers was lying, still unconscious.
Whether he knew who it was, or Whether he
thought it better to take a scalp from a foe past
resistance than have to fight for it, is not known,
but he darted forward and stoo (1 over the
chieftain, grasping his long scalp- ock with one
hand while the other brandished a blood—stained
knife. J esie uttered a piercing scream that at—
tracted the Crow’s attention and made his eyes
glisten, probably with joy, as he thought what
nice fringe the silky tresses of the girl would
make-for his leggings or moccasins.

J osxe started back at his 'fiery glance, and as
she did so her hand struck against something
hard in her pocket. It was a little revolver her
father had given her, “ to protect her from the
Indians," as he laughineg rem-irked, little think-
ing how soon his words would be tested. She
had entirely forgotten its existence, and luckily
for be it had not been disoovered by her cap
tors. he drew it and, pointin toward the
Crow, whose attention was againéurned toward
the foe beneath him, tremblineg pulled the
trigger. Providence may haVe directed the
bullet, for she thought not of taking aim, and
even shut her eyes as she closed her finger, but
at the report the Crow uttered a wild yell of

nin as he clapped hishand to his shattered jaw.

e was badly hurt, but not so greatly as to en-
tirely disable him, when, luckily for our story——
whinh else would have been abruptly cut short
at this point—her cry had been heard, and two
of the recreant guards sped to her rescue in
time to put a final end to the exploits of that
Crow. They saw at a glance how their chief
had been saved, as Josie still held the leveled re-
volver, while the smoke curled from the dis-
charged chamber. The guard did not a ain
desert their post, after the, lesson they had eon
taught.

It was evident from the exultant yells of the
Blackfeet, and the stubborn silence with which
their enemies fought, that the’tide had changed.

 
 

 

 

 

Halal: 'Triplett’s Vow. i 9

 

And then, after one last, desperate effort to re-
trieve their fortunes, the Crows turned and fled,
seizing the first home they could lay their hands
upon without regard to proprietorship, closely
and unrelentingly pursued by the victorious
Blackfeet, who slaughtered them without mercy ,
whenever an opportunity was offered.

It was nearly night when the lust Kainna re-
turned, and t ey concluded to remain where
they were until morning, as they knew the en-
emy were too completely defeated to renew the
attack. After the natural rejoicings had some—
what subsided, the story of how Josie had saved
the life and consequently scalp, of their chief
was to] , and listened to with wonder and inter-
est. The priest chief stood before her and spoke
as follows, in his own dialect: <

“ Dau liter of the pale—faces! The warriors
of the innarBlackfeet know what you have
done, and they thank you. The scalp of Warn—
kola is too good to hang in the lodge of the
coward] Upsaroka. It belongs to a great war-
rior. ’l‘ e ‘Dark Hair’was brave, and it still
covers the head of achief. She is brave and
deserves to share the lodge of a. chief. She
shall not work with the squaws: she shall do
nothing but sit in the wig-warn, and become the
mother of many great braves. She will be the
squaw of Warakola, if the Great Manitou will
that he lives. But should he not live, then she
shall keep the fire of Ponetah” (here he struck
his breast a resounding blow, and an attitude at
the same time,) “burning. Wagh, I have
spokenl” .

Of course Josxe was entirely ignorant of the
meaning of this speech, but the dusky orator
heeded not that, and took his seat with the air
of one perfectly satisfied with himself, that was
not lessened by the general murmur of approval
that ran around the crowd of dusky listeners.
“ Little Birdy” was a little surprised and
alarmed at the chief’s speech, as she did not
know whether he was praising or scolding her
for what she had done. But when her bewil-
dered senses were again calmed, a very slight,
tinv thrill of pride ran over her, as she Tully
realized what a heroic act she had performed.
And uickly following came the thought of
what asil Croteau would think, did he ever
learn of it which somehow she wished he would.
Not that she cared anything for him—far from
it; and then she scornfully spurned the pleasant,
manly image from her mind’s eye.

But then she remembered where she was, and
how doubtful whether the would again meet,
and when she thought of er dear father, and
his possible fate, she bowed her head and wept
bitterly. Ponetah, who was still sitting cross-
legged, ind lging in the lpleasure of a soothing
smoke afte . the bolls ant turmoils of the day,
and stolidly staring at Josie, did not up ear to
relish this new turn, and with a grunt o disap—
proval changed his position for one more re-
mote.

CHAPTER VIII. l
OLD usnx’s YARN.

WHEN the day dawned, our two friends, Hank
and Basil. Were far from the grove in which the
body of the murdered unknown had been buried,
and within a few miles of the spot where the di.

 

 

vided trail had misled them. Both horses and
riders were weary and jaded with the toil they
had undergone, but still they pressied on, wish-
ing to reach the stream in the, where motto they
could rest with comfort.

" Wal, buy,” quoth Hank, “ we’re e’ena‘niost
thar an’ 1 for one ain’t nownys sorry. 1 tell ye,
a bite an’ sup wouldn’t go bad now.

“ You’re right, Hank, for I am nearly worn
out. But when we get there, what do you in-
tend to do? Will you be able to follow the trail
after the time we have lost?”

“Yes I kin foller it, ’less they’re a heap
smartern Ithink they be. But thar ain’t no
need 0‘ thet, as I knows on. I know. jist whar
they’ll fetch up, an’ I kin go custrut than But
to be on the safe side we’ll foller it a bit. an’ ef '
the trail crosses the Muddy whar I think it
will, then they’re holed fer sure.

“ Where’s that?” queried Basil.

“ I’ll show ye. But fu’st we’ve got to gi’n the
animiles a good, long rest, ’eause we may hev to
make a run fer it, an’ need to be in good trim
lest they’ll raise our ha’r.”

“ That was a sad affair,” added Basil, after a
slight silence. “ If We hain’t taken the wrong
trail it wouldn’t have happened, and that poor
girl would have been alive now.”

“’Twasa big mistake sure enough, but it‘s
all fer the best. Yas, she’s far better oflf new,
pore child 1” added the scout, with a sigh for the
11Lfated stranger, and then they rode on in
silence.

In a short time the motto was reached, and
after a cautious and thoughtful examination,
they entered it and speedily turned their
wearied steeds loose to graze, while they made
preparations for their simple meal: The did
not dare kindle a fire, lest the smoke s ould
betray their whereabouts to any chance enemy,
and were forced to content themselves with
dried buffalo—meat and cold corn bread, with
which their haversacks had been plentifully
supplied when leaving the wagon~train. This
dispatched, they lighted their never—failing
pipes, and reclined at length upon the grassy
sward, keeping an eye upon the horses, to see
that the did not stray from the cover of the
trees. fter a time, Basil spoke. ’

“ You say that you know this Three Fingers
well, and had a fight with him once. How did
it ha pen?” ~

“ . as. I guess l'do know the old rapscallion,
jest a leetle; wagh!" replied Triplets, with a
deep scowl upon his naturally good—homered
face, as he knocked the ashes from his red—‘
clay pipe, and refilled it. Then obtaining a. '
light from Basil’s pipe he continued; “I did
hcv a leetle turn-up wi’ him onc’t, an’ I got the
better 0’ him too, an’ he kerries my marks yi‘t
as ye know. The how on it war in this way:

“A matter 0’ fifteen y'ar ago, mebbe a leetle

more or a leetle less. 1 war tra pin” up on 1, ’

Rond river, as runs through the ran‘ Bond.
ye know, clue to the mouth 0’ “ Jump-ofi—Joe’,’
crick. ijas about 0’ the way place then an‘
I ou’y chainced on it b. accident, but as the
beaver an’ minks an’ 0t er fur war so tame v
and plenty, I made up/my mind to spend to - ’
season tbar, ’stead 0' goin’ up to my old tramp- ‘
inl-grounds. I had to keep mighty shady, m’v‘

 

.:_’:-';r:.:,a

t

325-1.?‘72'81:  A v

  
 
  
  
    
 
 

owes her—beaten stock of his rifle a

be robbed me an’ tried ag’in.

25 ‘ Hank Triplett’l Vow.

 

be as cunnin’ an’ wide-awake as a ‘fisher,’ an’
hit, I opine, is jest the cutest animile thet W’ars

fur.

“ Wal, I hed mighty good luck, traps full
every night, an’ I was in high glee, a-thinkin’
whatahigh ole ‘blow-out’ 1d hev when cole
weather come, an’ I got back to the fort. Ye
see I hed my animiles—a horse an’ two mules—-
cached in a cave, but it war so dam thet I
didn’t like to sleep thar mysel’; so hunted
around ontil I found the cutest kiver ye ever
see'd. It war a holler sycamore tree wi’ the
bushes an’ vines a-growin’ thick all aroun’ it, an’
only I see’d a b’ar sneak in, I don’t b’lieve as
how I’d a-found it. I killed ole b‘ar, an’ moved
inter my new Wigwam. It war holler an’ big
enough for half a dozen men. The top war
broken oil, an’ a hole big as yer head would let
out the smoke. ’Twar snug; ’sides 1 could keep
my pelts dry.

" One day I was takin’ a leetie bit 0’ tramp,
allays on the lookout for reds, as war thick as
lice in a Digger, when I heerd the tramp o’
hcsses‘ feet on the other side 0’ the river, a-com—
in’ mighty lively. I cached and lay low to see
who it war, read to hunt my bole, fer I didn’t
want to be dis ivered jest then as Is may
’magine. Ina few moments is red re 9 down
the bank an’ stopped to let his horse drink.
Jest ahint him war two more, an’ one 0’ them
helda white woman afore him on the boss’s
withers. I could see as her hands an‘ feet was
tied, wi’ a belt over her mouth to keep her
from hollerin.’

“Lord, how mad I war then, an’ I swored to
save her, else go under myself. So I touched up
the rimin’ in the ole purty, hysr,"frpsttlng the

ectionatel
as he s ks, " an’ felt at my knife and piste s
war a right. , I didn’t mind the odds; thar war
on’y three as I could see, an’ I’d pulled through
wi' wusser ’n thet.

“ Wal, they crossed an’ landed a little below
whar I war ‘bushed, an’ I up an’ let the imp as
held the gel hev it plum’ center. In course he
dropped, an’ she wi’ ’im, for she war so tied that
she couldn’t help herself. T’other two war
s’prised a few, an store they could do anythin’
I guv one a pill from one of the pistols as tum-
bled him over. The last red he made for the
gel an’ I made fer him, but when he see’d I’s
alone, turned an’ met me, fa’r fer an Injun. He
gi’n me a error in the shoulder, an’ then. I
knocked him oi! his animile wi’ my rifle. Jest
then, the second Injun I shot rolled over to’rds
the gal, who war tryin’ to git up, an’ I see’d the
knife in his han‘ He war too fur fer meto reach
him afore he could wipe her out, so I pulled at
him wi’ the other piste .

“ I hit him fa’r enough, but not in time to
save her, for he jabbed her twic’t wi’ his knife
store he keeled over. I made fer him, ivin’ a
ilump that jest saved my ha’r, fer as I di so, the
est red made a hit at me from behind thet would
hev played me, but as ’twas, the blade only slit
open the hide ’tween my shOuIders i'er n’arly a
feet. It smarted like sixty. an’ I half turned as
g Ifdodged it, but
stumbled an’ fell, drawin' him down on top 0’
me. I grabbed him around the arm, so’s he

couldn't use his sticker, an' I tried to turn him.

.oversleep his appointed time.

 

But he war wide awake, an’ slipped one arm
loose, an’ grugped me by the throat. Then we
had it hot an heavy, now I tell you.

“ I warn’t no kitten, as you may guess, but he
war a ood match fer me ’sides havin’ the ’vam
tags. e rolled over an over, fu’st one on top,
then t’ot'ner. I war holdln’ his knifehand tight,
he war afeard to let go my throat to lonsen it,
for fear I’d git the better 0’ him, an’ so we war.
I war a—growin’ kinder weak an’ fainty-like, he,
squose so hard, but I mana ed at lasttokick the
knife outen his han’. Then grupped him by the
skulp-lock, as he clutched my gullet wi’ both
han’s, an’ windin’ it round my finger, stuck my
thumb into his eye, and gouged like all git
eoutl
“ Mebbe he didn’t grunt then, oh no, not at
alli An’ then he let go my throat an’ bent back
my thumb. But I’d got the ’vanta e, an’ me’nt
to keep it. Jest then I heerd a ye , an’ see’d a
tarnal lot 0’ Blackfeet ride into’ the river, a
spurrin’ like the devil war arter 'em. I knowed I
must work quick, else 1 war a goner, shore. I
jerked the imp back’ards by his top-knot an'
drawed my knife. He see’d it an’ grabbed hold
0’ it with his bare han’. I pulled it loose with a
swipe that tuck 03 two 0’ his flu _ers clean, then

i’n him a jab in the bread-b at that keeled’

im over. Just then some 0’ the reds fired an'
a bullet broke my right arm, an’ another tuck
me in the side. So I see'd I‘d better make tracks
fer my hos: ef I wanted to save my bacon, fer
the red devils war clus to shore an’ a—comin’ like
blazes.

“ I grabbed my rifle in my left hand an’ made
for the cave, got thar fu’st, though not much,
mounted, an’ split like fun. ’Iwara clus shave,
mi hty clus, an’ the arrers an’ bullets war a-
whisthn' around lively, now I tell e. But I got
cl’ar arter 8. ion chase, an’ when throwed ’em
off 0’ the trail, cached ’mong the hills till my
hurts got well.

“An’ that's the way the Blackfoot chief got
the name the whites know him by—Ole Three
F‘irwers,” concluded Hank.

A ter a spell he resumed: ,

“Say, lad, hain’t you sleeplyi Better take a
snooze fer awhile, so s to be a hunky for work
when the time comes.”

“I can’t slee now. You lie down and I’ll
watch," replied asil. ,

“Wal, guess I mought as well. Wake me in
a kupple ,0’ hours, an’ be sure an’ keep good
watch all around ye,” and the guide, closing his
eyes, resigned himself to sleep, which visited
him almost instantly.

Nothing occurred during the succeeding sev-
eral hours. and Basil, who was deeplv absorbed
in thoughts of Josie Finger, although not
neglecting his duty, was greatly urprised when
the guide reproached him for llowing him to
It was With diffi-
culty that he could be convinced that so long a
time had elapsed, until he glanced at the sun
now bordering on the horizon. Then he stretch-
ed himself upon the spot vacated b Hank, and
a very few minutes more brought t e stertorous
breathing commonly termed snor‘ to the
watchful ears of the scout, who smi edvas he
heard it. '

The next uprising of the sun witnessed them

I,
a ’40:

 

 

 

 

Hank Triplett’l Vows

21

 

upon the trail of the Indians. As soon as the
ford was reached, and Triplett’s rediction veri-
fied, the two scouts left the trai and struck ofl!
over the prairie, relyin upon the worthy guide’s
intimate knowledge 0 these almost trackless
wilds, to bring them speedily and safely to their
destination. It would be useless and tiresome
to both the reader and ourselves, to trail their
course step by step. Let it suflice that his judg-
ment was not at fault, and that in the due
course of time the Blackfoot village was dis—
covered.

 

CHAPTER IX.
THE BLACKFEET AT HOME.

JABLY on the morning succeeding their fight
with the Upsarokas, or Crows, the Blackfeet
filed out from the belt of timber, and rode slow-
ly over the prairies. A few hours' travel would
carry them to their village, and they did not ap-
pear in any great haste to reach it. To be sure
they had gained 3, Signal Victory over their
hereditary foes and had taken nearly two scalps
for every one they had lost during the tight; but
their loss had been far more severe during the
struggle with the whites, and they had but two
scal sto show as an oflset against the havoc
ma e h the emi ants’ deadly rifles and strong
arms. hey we! knew the scene of grief an
wailing their return would occaSion, and dread-
ed it accordingly.

A band of braves, headed by Ponetah, was in
the lead, followed by the litter containing the
senseless war-chief, behind which rode the two
ca tlves, who were treated With increased con-
si oration, since Josie saved the life of Ware-
kola. Then came another troop of warriors,
riding slightly in advance of a strange, unearth-
ly hand. This consisted of three ranks, each
one containing seven horsemen. There was a.
marked diflference in the style of riding of the
latter and those preceding them. ‘They did not
sit; with the careless grace of their leaders, but
erect and stiff. The reason was plain, their legs
were tied beneath their horses’ bellies and sap
cured with thongs of deerskiii, while braces of
the same material supported them in front and
rear. A blanket was thrown over the bod of
each, that concealed the upper portion of t eir
persons. The head of each drooped upon his
breast, while their arms were pinioned to their
sides. was passed from bit to hit of
their horses, thus connecting those in each row,
and preventing them from straggling.

The riders are those who were killed in the
late conflict.

The procession reaches the longs range of hills,
and enters a narrow defile. where only two
horsemen can ride abreast. The hills are ve
irregular, new low and gently sloping, anon ta 1
and towering far above their heads, with oc-
casionally a rocky precipice upon either hand.
Scrubhy ines and cedar dot their faces, while
innumera 1e parasitic plants send their clinging
sprays over its rugged surtace.

But the part winding along the valley do not
note these. {he Indians are accustomed to
them‘ the captives are despondent. At length
they follow the trail over a hill, and the Black—
foot village is in sight, yet a mile distant. '
It was upon the broad, level top of a hill,

 

 

whose summit was nearly round, and apparent-
ly half a mile in diameter. This was thickl
studded with huts, or wigwams, of hide, Wh' e
the forms of men, women and children could be
distinguished moving from place to place, or
carelessly reclining upon the ground. A ('on-
siderahle—sized stream ran along the base of this
“ table mound,” thickly bordered with trees and
undergrowth, so that only an occasional glimpse
of the silvery waters could be seen. The top of
the bill was free from trees, with the exception
of three enormous ones that stood near the cen-
ter. Beneath their sheltering limbs were two
tents, evidently of canvas, much larger than
these surrounding them. One was the council-
lodge, the other the home of Warakola.

Such was the head village of that section of
the Blackfeet known as Kainnus, the most war-
like and cunning of the three grand divisions
composing the tribe. Warakola, or Three Fin—
gers, was the head or war-chief, of their band.
Ponetah was next in command.

The returning war-party paused, and, at a
Sign from Ponetah, uttered, as with one voice,
the wild, thrilling “ scalp-halloo,” then, as the
answering shout came faintly upon the air over
the intervening space, the long, mouthful death-
wail wa given. There was no answer to this
and as the band again proceeded, acrowd oi
women were seen wildly s urring along the
several winding paths that ed down the steep
hillside, and in a few minutes joined the former.
Not a word was spoken by either party as the
new—comers spread upon either side.» allowin
the others to ass them, and then falling in a
the rear, silent y proceeded toward the villa e.

The bill was at length surmounted, and t 6
band halted for a few minutes, while Ponetah,
followed by the litter bearing the wounded war-
chiet, roceeded slowly onward, until the small-
er of‘ he two canvas tents was reached, when
the body was conveyed within. The form of a
woman, whose pale skin, though deeply tanned
from exposure, proclaimed her to be. white de—
scent, pressed closely after them.

He soon reappeared, and stalking throu h the
braves, 3 news, and pappooses that close y en-
vironed t e war-party, motioned the warriors
who guarded the captives to follow with them,
and led the way to his own Wigwam, where they
were he] from their horses. Ponetah entered
first, an uttereda few harsh commands to a '
middle-aged squiiw, who was cooking in one
corner ol.’ the hut. She did not repl , but
placing a pile of furs and skins so as to ¥orm a
comfortab seat, motioned the captives to occu-
py them, a permission they were in no wise 10th
to avail themselves of, being terribly worn and
exhausted by the long and arduous journey they
were forced to make. For a time the were 31-
lent, watching the motions of their dus y guard-
ian as she rformed her rude culinary opera-
tions, grum ling in a monotone as she did so.
EVidently our friends were not regarded in the
most favorable light, and she did not relish the
task her lord and master had set her. But when
the venison steaks were done, and the huge pot
of hominy sufliciently cooked, they were placed
before her guests, and with a sullen gesture she
invited them to eat. Despite their grief and
unique position, the ladies were very hungry .

/ l, ‘
" t: ,,

 

Cur..- .mmm ;."c_w...v..wm__, anmvv—w. Mn... .

v . .
\mwmw annmawn ,, y . m

22 Hank Triplett’s Vow.

glance in her dark eye. “ But Mintolah not be
mad when Warakola take ‘Dark Hair’ to. his
Wigwam. Snow Bird love lilly sister, no git
mad wid her.” and she softly stroked down the
velvety check of Josie, with her brown, toil-
hardcned hand.

and did ample justice to the rude but palatable
food before them.
Meanwhile Ponetah had called a council com—
sed of the principal braves and chiefs of the
ainuas. where he related the exploits of the
war-party since it first set out, winding up With

 

 

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mayM-JS 5.7.1.». .235;

.
if

 

AKLW'3'1ASI6Y‘gxa—ZA:. <. 3‘

 

 

 

 

  

a gorgeous, hiwhly-colored description of the de-
feat of the “ psai'oka sqnaws,” enumerating
the number of scalps taken, and how Josie had
saved the life of Varakola, as he lay helpless
an] unconscious beneath the sculping‘knife of
the Crow. He succeeded so well that the two
pale-face Squaw: were proclaimed to be guests,
not captives, and allowed their liberty in a par-
tial degree until the recovery of Three Fingers,
who was now under the care of their great medi-
cine-man, the conjurer. Should he not recover,
however, they must be at the disposal of
Ponztah, to be his squaws, or held for ransom,
as he might deem best.

On the whole, the grim old heathen had good
cause for congratulation, and when it is remem-
bered, in addition to this fact, that in case of
Warakola’s death, the mantle long borne by him
would drop undisputed upon his broad should—
ers, it will not be wondered at that Ponetah
should naturally wish that the wound inflicted
by the scont’s bullet would prove fatal. But he
was a good disseinbler, and allowed not a trace
of these thoughts to appear either upon his face
or in his actions.

Nearly two weeks had now clapsdd since the
arrival at the Blackfoot village. The captives
were not treated harshly, but were allowed to
ramble for short distances around the town.
They were always Watched, however, either by
the squaw of Ponetah, or else the Indianized
white woman- they had seen enter after the
wounded war-chief. This, they learned, was
the wife of Warakola, the sole one at present;
and one day she appeared so much rejoiced at
something, that Josie called her to where they
were sittinw, resting during one of their daily
walks, and egan torquestion her.

She replied, in very broken English, that the
war-chief was rapidly recovering, and that he
,' was now sensible, though very weak. It ap—

eared that a portion of the splintei‘ed skull had

een de tossed so that it compressed the brain,
but that it had now been remover] by the medi-
cine-man, and the patient was out of danger.

‘ “ What is your name?” kindly asked Josie,
’who wished to make friends wit the woman,
lwhoa. peared to be good-natured and kind—

ea .
“Name Mintolah; chief he tell me ‘Snow
Bird,’ ” replied she, with a pleasant laugh.

“ It is a pretty name,” said Josie, a little hyp-
ocritically. for she thought it just the oppOSite.
but did not deem it best to say so. “Does the
chief love you?”

“ What fo’ ask that, eh?” a little quickly.

 “ Because 1 would have my sister happy.

Could Mina—Sum” Bird be happy if the chief
should take another wife to his house? Would
she not feel sorry and cry!”

f‘Don’ know. Mebbv so, if chief t’ink her
better den Mintolah. Den odder now he die,
‘ git kill velly soon!” she said wih a furtive

 

“ What—do you mean me?" cried Josie, indig-
nantly, her face flushing at the thought. “ Does
he think of me as his _ haw?"

“ Yeh. Why fo‘ 100 so mad?” demanded the
Snow Bird, angrily. “ He t’ink chief not good’
’uough, eh? "Warakola velly big chief. Nebber
eats clickets an’ glasshoppels, sage-hens an’
glouse, like Upsaroka dogs. He gloat big brave,
got plenty scalps, an’ cowardly Pawnees an’
Crows hides dere heads when dey hear him
name!”

Then she continued more quietli:

“ Yeh, Kainna chief say Dar Hair make
good Squaw. Got to go to Wigwam bumby.
Bk,r plenty f07 nudder one.”

‘ N 0, Snow Bird, that can never be. The
dove does not mate with the hawk. Sooner than
that, I would kill myself," cried Josie.

“Big fool, den, do dut; ’cause chief want fo’
squaw. Mus’ go.”

“ But, Snow Bird, I don’t wish to take your
place,” determined to try the last a pea]. “ He
might love me better than you, an that would
break my heart. Won’t you help me to run
awe. ?”

“ Vhat fo’ do dnt? Den chief he kill me quick;
chop head open wid tomahawk. No; Dark Hair
mus’ stay. If run off, den me tell chief where

0. He die den, surt’in. Shoot fast, when mad,
arakola,” returned the woman, then as if wish-
ing to avoid further discussion, withdrew to a
little distance, where she could still overlook any
movements made by the captives.

Josie was dcspondent, for she had depended a
good deal upon this person’s love for her Indian
husband, and thought. by arousing her jealousy,
to secure her aid in effecting their escape. But
now that hope was gone, and burying her head
in the spinster’s lap, she gave vent to her feel-

ings. ,
“ Don’t cry, darling,” soothineg said Modern,
gently stroking the glossy hair with her hand.
“ Cheer up, and hope for the best. Perhaps our
friends may come in time and rescue us.”

“ But you heard what she said about that
dreadful Indian!” sobbed‘ Josie.

“Yes; but it will be some time before he is
well, and they may come before then.”

“Why, do you think the -——our friends—are
following us?” asked the maiden, brightening up
at the faint ray of hope thus presented.

“Yes,” answorod her aunt, her conscience
pricking her a little, for she had given up all
such hope. “You know they tried to rescue us
when we were first captured, and of course they
would follow on after. Mr. Triggile is a very
smart man, and I am sure he will nd us. Poor
man i" she continued, with a sigh, “ how I pity
him; he loves memos, I mean—so dearly!” end-
ing with a faint blush that, however, escaped
J osie’s attention.

One hand convulsiver grasped the spinster’l
shoulder, and a tiny finger-t1 rested upon her
rosy lip, while she cast a Side ong glance of fear
toward the Snow Bird, who was sflently seated

«

 

 

\

 

 

 
    
 
 

 

 

. covered to his

Hank Triplett’s Vow. ‘ 83

 

upon a stone a few yards distant, and Josie
whis red: «

“ on’t move or speak, aunt; but listen.”

Fortunately, the spinsler had steady, strong
nerves, and did as requested, although she was
greatly astonished at the words and actions of
her niece.

But we must return to the guide and Basil for
the present.

 

CHAPTER X.

QUITE NATURAL UNDER THE CIRCUMSTANCES.

As we have stated, the two scouts reached the
vicinity of the Blackfoot village, where the two
objects of their search were held in captivity,
and again Hank found that his surmises were
correct, and also the welcome fact that Josie
and her aunt were allowed comparative freedom,
with only a woman for guard. ’Tis true, that
although often out of sight of the town they
were never permitted to go so far that one

shriek from that woman's lips would fail to bring

scores of armed braves, in as many moments, to
the rescue. , .

Bank was sorely troubled to restrain his more
rash companion, whenever the form of his loved
one was in sight—so near, yet so far—and to
keep him within the bounds of prudence, and he
even threatened, should Basil act so ridiculously,
that he would bind him and leave him in the
cave all day. This acted as a damper upon the
lover, for be well knew that Triplett was just
the man to execute his threat, and a quarrel
with him in the present state of affairs would be
worse than folly. '

The guide had made several trips under cover
of night to the “ Lady’s Canyon,” hopin to find
the colonel with a force of whites there, ut was
as often doomed to disappomtment.

The two scouts were forced to observe unusual
precautions to avoid discovery, and suffered
great hardships from not daring to build a fire
to cook the scanty supply of game they were
enabled tosnare at night; but were forced to
eat it raw. Then the continual outgoings and
incoming of the bands of savages kept them in
constant suspense, lest their presence should be
discovered, before they had effected the contem-
plated re5cue. ' ‘ .

In one of Hank‘s trips into the Village—of al«
most nightly occurrence now, for he hoped
to liberate the captives, but ever found the
guard too vigilant for him—he fortunately found
an empty but, and entering cautiously he dis-
t joy a store of dried venison
and buflalomeat. Of this he quickly secured a
considerable quantity, tyin the bundle with
his belt, and, returned to t e cave rejoicing,
where Basil was awaiting him in an agony of
hope and fear. This was a perfect godsend,
and so they considered it, and for the first time
in many days the two daring scouts enjoyed a
hearty meal, that strengthened their bodies and
hearts in due proportion.

During one of his periodical scouts around the
village at night, Bank had discovered the herd-
ing-place or corral used to secure the stock of the
Blackfeet, and by dint of perseverance and great
caution. had secureda couple of “ States horses,"
whose shoes were in good order, and after muf-
fling their boots with portions cut from his hunt-

 

ing-shirt, succeeded in leading them to the cave.
The saddles belonging to himself and Basil he
had so altered as to answer for the use of Josie
and her aunt.

Anxiously he looked for some tidings from the
colonel, for most of the savages had departed
upon a rand buflalo-hunt, and by a sudden on-
slaught e felt assured that the ladies could be
rescued, as not more than two-score able-bodied
braves were left to guard the town. But in vain.

At length they determined to wait no longer,
but to attempt the rescue on the next day, if the
captives took their usual walk, and in the place
they were generally to be seen. Could they but
silence the squaw that guarded them, without
her sounding the alarm, the rest they could trust
to Providence.

Before daylight they had closely ensconced
themselves‘in a dense clump of bushes that w
over the brink of a small brook that ran cm
the great spring above, emptying into the creek
or river be ow. Their horses were all ready for
a start, in the cave some half a mile distant;
and they awaited t e appearance of the ladies
witth feelings that would be hard indeed to de-
pic .

And now to resume the thread of our story at
the point where we paused to trace the course of
the two scouts, 'ust as Josie, with finger on lip,
was addressing er aunt.

“ Watch closely that clump of bushes yonder,
on the other side of the brook. Twice a little
pebble was thrown from there, and then I saw‘
the bushes more. Thereis no wind, 30— There l”
she hastily continued, as a. tiny pebble fell at
their fee , “it is again. Oh, if our friends are
indeed near!” and she cautiously fluttered a
handkerchief before her, in such a manner that
it was hidden from the view of the woman who
acted as their guard. ;

As if in answer to this a hand was partially
exposed,,that was undoubtedly that of a white
man. Only for a moment. then it was with-
drawn- as the women whispered at the same
time, ‘ Basil!” “ Mr. Tripple!” then bent their
eyes once more upon the bushes.

Another missile now swept through the air,but
being flat, a gust of wind caught it and bore it
to one side. Josie immediately arose, and with
a well-counterfeited yawn and stretching of her
arms, slowly sauntcred toward it. When one
foot was between the object and Snow Bird, who
was jealously watching her actions, she stooped
as if to refasten her shoe, and secured the mess:
senger—a piece of bark; then turning, she sat
down by the spinster. Eagerly they read the
words rudely scratched upon it, evidently with
the point of a knife, upon its smooth surface:

“ Be cautious. Friends are near. Contrive to have .
the squaw pass by this clump of bushes. Then you
are safe. BASIL."

They had scarcely mastered the words when
the hand of Mintolah was placed upon Josie’s
shoulder, and she said sternly:

“What got dare? Gib me!”

But the maiden. although terribly alarmed,
did not lose her presence 0 mind, and cast the
bark into the swiftly-flowing brook. Mintolah
saw it ,and' darted forward, and stooping se- ' ,
cured it just as it was passing the bushes. But 
before she could arise, a dark figure leaped H »

 

 

 

 

 

  

‘ still warm upon his lips.
' was light, and that the sunshine from within

24 Hank Triplett’u Vow.

 

ovar the stream and a brawny arm clinched
her throat, While the other was pressed tightly
over her mouth. Dragging her into the bushes,
the guide rapidly proceeded to secure her be-
you all possibility of giving,r thealarm. Wrap-
piuga rounzl stone nearly the size of a hen’s
egg in his large h-ini’lkerchief, he thrust it into
her mouth and tied the ends together behind
her neck. Tneu he bouul her hand and foot to
the stems of so no of the larger bushes with
cords that he had prepared at the cave for that
purpose.

During this time, Basil of course had not been
idle, but pi'ozeadei at once to mth the ladies
and assist them is.) cover, where they would be
beyond reach of Oili'fl'Vilthll. It was really
worthy of note wh:it a cipher Miss Medora
found herself in this meeting, and it is no Won-
der that she reac'nsl the side of “dear Mr.
Trip 1e" some moments before the younger
coup e did.

In fact, the meetingr between our hero and
heroine was surprisingly cordial, when we re
call the rather stately terms they stood upon
when last together. Basil, in his order, was
rather taking to my the least, for he clasped

‘ Josie tightly in his arms, anl then—by the law;

of mutual attraction, We presume—kissed her
repeatedly before ha regains-l his senses. And
strange to say, the blushingr Josie did not resist
in the least, or turn her head away until Been
so her down by the trio in the bushes.

After the Snow Bird was securely bound, the
quartetta, un'ier guidance of Hank, stealthily
proceeds 1 toward the cave, for they knew that
the fact of the res me would scon be discovered,
and as a long. dangerous road lav before them,

_‘ every moment was of incalculable value. But
although he necessarily proceedel slow, Hank
.still found it access my to frequently admonish

the young couple to lnsten their steps. He did
not need any such course with Merlnra; perhaps
he would have been better pleased had such
been the case, for she nearly trod noon his heels
every time they were lifted, holding fast in the
mean time to the dilapidatel flap of his hunt-
ing-shirt. Then, for the first time, he learned
ghata clinging, affectionate nature some women

ave.

In a short time the cave was reached, and af-
ter a. warm but hasty greeting from “Little

, ' Birdy,” the guide sallie'l out to see if the coast
g was clear for the commencement of their long,

wearisome home journey. His heart was light,
for the most difficult portion of hi: vow was ac-
com lishezl—that of the finding and liberation
of t e captives —and he felt strong hopes of
being able to lead them to ultimate safety. And
then the eager, affectionate kiss of the bright

‘ , little being, who was nearer and dearer to his

precious horse, “Silver Heels." and rifle, was
No wonder his heart

shone forth from his eyes.

When he returned from his successful survev,
he found Miss Meiom cousideratelv dozing in
one corner of the Give, thus allowing the lovers,

' in the other and t) enjoy their own'companv

without fear of being observed or overheard.
Really, an old maid is not such a disagreeable
being after all, and from that tune Basil al-

 

ways treated the aunt with a great deal more
affection and respect than he had heretofore
shown.

The horses were now led out, after everythi
had been examined and secured. Their h s
were all thickly muffled, so as to destroy both
the trail and the sound of steel striking upon
the hard rock that covered the track they were
now to follow. And then, after a short time,
the speed was increased, and their hearts leaped
as they left the village behind them.

CHAPTER XI.
CLOSE QUARTERS. '

Tim little party of whites, after emer n
from the hills, instead of following the trai
they had traversed when coming to the village,
turned to the left, and skirting the bills, quick-
ened their pace to a swift gallop. But they had
not advanced a mile when a tremor crept over
them. Borne upon the breeze a long fierce yell
came faintly to their ears. They could not
doubt its meaning.

The escape of the captives had been discover—
ed; the trail would soon be found, and then the
result would depend solely upon the relative
speed and endurance of the horses.

Triplett’s gray eye was keenly glancing around
to note any particular in the formation of the
ground that would advantage them. Then he
spurred forward at a still greater speed, closely
followed by the anxious trio, and turning a pro-
jecting pomt of the hills, paused, leaped from
his horse, and hastily began throwing off the
mufflers that somewhat impeded the speed of the
animals. Basil followed his example, and then
the again sped forward.

ho hill on which the village was situated was
now hidden behind a still more lofty range, and
the blind trail would have to be traced up to
this point by their enemies, and by that time the
guide truited tohave gained such a start that
pursuit would be useless. Then they reached
the summit of a slight swell. Again Hank
pulled up with a curse.

Not over a. mile distant a close body of horse—
men was seen, riding rapidly across their path.
A glance showed them to be Indians, but from
their actions it was evident that the fugitives
had not been seen. '

Once more the course was changed, and Hank
led the way toward the northeast. Then they
sped on as before. He was troubled, and de-
spite the words of cheer and encouragement
that he uttered, an anxious look overspread his
face, that was reproduced upon the faces of
those who depended solely upon his skill to ex-
tricute them from their perilous situation.

At this point Josie called attention to a cloud
of dust that was faintly to be seen in their path.
The fugitives Sli htly checked their speed, and
with a feeling 0 despair, awaited the interpre-
tation of the guide as to the character of the
cloud. It came all too soon for their sick and
painfullv throbbing hearts.

“ Iniun ag‘in, by th’ Eternal!”

“ What is to he done now?” despondently
queried Basil. “ We can not remain here.” '

“In course not, an‘ we cain’t run for it. ny-
ther. ’Ca’se why, we’re surrounded by the
imps. So that’s on’y one thing fer us to do, an’

 

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i

‘1‘,
i,

 

    

 

 

 

 

g.
Y,
3
l
1’

 

flank Triplett’s Vow. V 25

 

thet is to cache, au’ wait ontil night. Feller me
as fast as er bosses kin click it,” and he darted
of! upon 1: e back trail like an arrow fresh from
the how.

In—a few minutes they reached the bed of
the creek, and proceeded a short distance up
it; then the guide told the little party to dis-
mount and await his return. He led the horses
across the creek and entered a clump of bushes
that grew close to the water’s edge. The bank,
which was of a considerable hight, had been
undermined during some freshet, thus forming
a good-sized recess. The to was roofed over
by the earth, while the bus es in front met it
overhead. The floor was of sand and earth
that had become dry, and allowed the horses’
hoofs to sink deeply, thus rendering their
tramping inaudible save to the ears of one in
close roximity. Securely tying them, he has-
tened ack to where his companions were await-
ing his return in breathless suspense.

Then cautioniug them to step lightly, and as
nearly in his tracks as possible, he led the way
over a. rocky ledge that ran toward the hills,
the faces of which were very rocky and broken.
There was a small bill a ittle in advance of
the main body, that resembled a huge heap
of debris, cast there by gigantic hands. The
sides and summit were bare, but around its
foot a circle of luxuriant undergrowth flour—
ished. Into a point of this the scout led the
way, and then called upon Basil to assist him
in pushing upon a bowlder that he pointed out.
To the latters surprise he pressed against it as
though he would push it into the hill. And
this was just what the guide intended, for un-
der their united strength the rock slowly slid
inward, and soon left an aperture lar e enough
to admit their persons. The guide 1 the way,
and whispered to.the others to follow him.
When once within, tp their surprise they
found themselves the occupants of a spacious
cavern, the extent of which could be but faintly

seen.

Then with some trouble the bowlder was slid
back into its place, and Hank, feeling around,
soon had it securely wedged in with stones that
he found upon the floor. These stones had evi-
dently been fashioned for their purpose, and in
answer to Basil, Triplett said that he had often
occupied the cave, and during his leisure nio—
ments had shaped the “ door,” as he termed it,
and the wedges to hold it in its place; so that
nothing short of artillery could force it from its

nsition. But whether it was known to the
glackfeet, he of course had no means of know-
mg.

The cavern was large and comparatively well
lighted by numerous chinks and crevices in the
rocks that formed the roof and the upper por-
tion of the sides. A tiny rill ran across one
end of the apartmsnt, that was cool and pleas-
ant to the taste. The floor was thickly strewn
with fine white sand, and from its dryness it
was evident that the place was well ventilated
and healthy. In one corner was a good-sized
pile of dried leaves, gram and moss, that had
answered the purpose of a bed. U n this the
two women seated themselves, whi 6 Basil and
the guide conversed in whispers, by the entrance.

There was not much consolation to be glragi. moccasined feet, and the louder sound of
' 3-" . .2 l '

'\

I

 

from Triplett, and the young man’s heart was
heavy within him as he glanced toward Josie,
and realized what a dreadful doom awaited her
should they be discovered and fall into the
hands of the Blackfeet. That they would be
discovered Triplett had little doubt, and unless
they could slip off under cover of night, their
only hope of safety was in the speedy arrival of
Colonel Finger with a rescuing party. He did
not greatly fear that their position would be
forced, and as for starvation, they were well
provided against that, for at least a week, while
water was plentiful.

After perhaps a Couple of hours passed in this
suspense, the guide, who was stationed by the
entrance with his ear close to a think, motioned
the others to be perfectly silent. He had heard
the low murmur of voices in eager consultation,
approaching the cave. These drew nearer and
paused in front of the bowlder. Hank had a
slight knowled e of the Kainna dialect, and as
they converse , learned that the horses had
been discovered, and that it was plain from this
fact that the fugitives could not be very far
distant—that they could not escape, for the
whole country around was being scoured and
searched by small hands of braves. and that
they had been sent to examine the cave, which
Was well known to the tribe.

They were evidently awaiting the approach
of others of their arty before entering the cave,
where they hop to find the fugitives. Then
their hands were placed against the bowldcr
and a sudden push given. But the stone moved
not, and they increased the pressure, with the
same result. Grunts of surprise and astonish—
ment then arose, plainly showing that they had
no knowledge of the wedges or their use.

Hank knew that their discovery was inevi-
table, and beckoned for Basil to approach, and
preiared to give the fee a warm reception.

er aps he would have been more cautious had
he not learned that his precious “ Silver Heels”
was in the possession of the red-men, grinding
his teeth in an ecstasy of rage at the thought.
Telling Basil what he contemplated, they level—
ed their rifles, aiming through the chinks, of
which there were several, and each selecting his
victim, fired. The wild death-yells and cries of
surprise were almost drowned by the long-con-
tinued and deafening reverberation that echoed
through the cavern, drawing a faint shriek from
the lips of the terrified women.

Then came the loud cries of discovery from
those near the cave, that was taken up and echoed‘.
from every point of the compass, until the air
seemed filled with the exultant yells of number-
less fiends. A hasty volley was fired through
the crevices around the “ doorway," but as the
two scouts had stepped to one side immediately
after firing, and the position of the women ‘be-V
ing out of range, the bullets were only flattened
against the rocky bottom or sides of the cave.
Our friends quickly reloaded their rifles, for
they knew they would be allowed but little rest,
now that the strife had fairly begun. ,

For a time after the shots, the yells continued
at short intervals, as though for the put-pow of _
guiding the more distant Blackfeet to the cave.
and then came the constant patter, patter of

 

 

  

26 ‘ Hank Triplett’s Vow.

 

hml‘s strikinrr against the rocks. The scouts
were stationed one on each side of the entrance,
rifles in hand and pistols in readiness by their
sides, prepared to make the victory a dear one,
should the enemy succeed in forcing their posi-
tion, The women had been placed where there
was no danger of being struck by any chance
shot, and they awaited the result in painful sus-

pense.
Triplett uttered a low hiss, and leveling his
' rifle, fired, and an Indian, who had unwittingly
exposed himself before the guide’s loophole,
bounded high into the air with the usual horri-
, ble shriek. Another volley of rifle—balls pattered
against the rock or rattled down from the sides
of the cavern, but Hank had withdrawn from
danger, and with a low chuckle, muttered:

“ So much and powder an’ lead throwed
away—eh, 38.51 a”

For some time the silence continued.

Then they heard a confused shuffle of mocra‘
sined feet upon the ravel, and caught a glimpse
of dusk half-nude orms, as the enemy rushed
forwnr and made a desperate effort to push the
bowlder from its place. It did not even shake
under the powerful force brought to bear upon
it. The scouts each singled out their mark from
the crowd, and at so short a distance but one
result could follow thp discharge of the rifles—
and two human beinws were numbered among
the dead. The survivors beat a hasty retreat,
but the pistols were brought into requisition be-
fore they could gain cover, and there were
woun'ls to be bandaged when they once more
lay low, and deliberated what course to pursue
next.

An hour passed away without any further
demonstrations, and the scouts filled their pipes
and smoked with great gusto; for, while lying
perda, watching for a chance to rescue the cap-
tives they were forced to deny their appetites
for fear the odor might betray them totheir
keen-scented foes.

They did not dare leave the‘ entrance, for
through the apertures their only chance of
learning the movements of the enemy lay, as
well as inflicting damage upon them. They did
not dare think ’of the future. or how all this was
to end; for what could they do against the scores

.of bloodthirsty demons without? The hope that
they had entertained of eluding the vigilance of
the Blackfeet in the darkness of the coming
night, was dispelled by the knowled e th‘lt their

‘ horses had been discovered by t o foe. Of
course, it was out of the question to venture
upon the long homeward journey upon foot;
they would mist certain death by so doing, as
the cave would then be t )rcel sooner or later—-
as it could only be wedged in from tho interior
—nd then, with horse: the trail would be quick-
ly followed and —no, that was not to be thought
of. Tnus their chances dwindled down to the
last faint hope that Colonel Pin'zer would arrive
in time With force enough to cope successfully
with the Blackfoot, and thus liberate them. But
oh, what aslenhr chance; and how could they
depend unon that?

These thou :ht: were passing zloomily through
his mind, when he was startled by the report of
a rifle, and a bullet passed through his hat and

a (cut deeply into hisleft shoulder.

l

 

“ Thunderl whar’d thet come from .9” he cried.

He did not need a verbal answer. The report
guided him, and looking up. the little cloud of
smoke, curling :m-l \vrcatliing among the jagged
points of the roof, toll him as plainly as words
could. It came from one of the small holes in
the roof‘ of the cavern. The enemy had scaled
the mound and fired a shot with the client
noticed. ‘

A shade of care settled upon the rugged fnec ‘

of the guide at this new danger. He knew that
It was one that it would he diflicult to guard
against. Directing Basil to watch by the en-
trance, he placed the women in a spot Where
they were secured from danger. Aftcra care-
ful inspection assured him that no loophole over-
looked their position, he proceeded to guard
against the sharpshooter, not heeding the pain
of his wound or yielding to the cntreaties of the
spinster to be allowed to bind it up.

His first action was to collect a number of
medium-sized stems and place one upon each
spot of sunshine cast by the rays entering at the
a ertures. Then taking his station, he divided
his attention between them and the roof above.
Suddenly his gray eve gleamcd with an expres—
sion of vindictive joy, as he noted one of the
stones shrouded in gloom, and softly gliding for-
ward. he stood beneath the darkened hole. He
caught sight of a portion of n. dusky face out-
lined in the hole, and, throwing up his long

rifle, it spoke before the savage—whose eyes,‘

blinded by the strong contrast the gloom within
presented to the dazzling sunshine without, had
not yet fairly distinguished the forms below——
could withdraw his head, and the horrible shriek
of agony closel followed the report. Then the
body was hear to rollover the rocky shale, anal
fall with a dull, heavy thud upon the ground at
the foot of the mound.

\When the warriors death was witnessed by
those without, they rushed in a body against the
bowldcr that only kept them from their ven—
geance, with wild howls of rage and hate. Hank
rushed to as ;ist Basil, and the rifle 0f the latter,
accompanied by their pistols, s oke vindictively.

The Indians appeared ma with rage and
fury, and continued their be less endeavors With
a bravery that deserved a etter success, some
striving to move the rock, while others returned
the fire of the two scouts. But the latter had
the advantage in being able to see distinctly the
forms of their foes, while their own were invisi-
ble. However, they did not escape scathless,
for, when the Blackfeet retreated, Basil was
bleeding profusely from a severe wound in the
face, a rifle-ball havin entered his cheek and
passed out at his neck, inflicting a very painful
but not dangerous wound. Triplett was bleed-
ing from his head and side, but both, upon in—
spection, proved to be mere flesh wounds.

As they would probably have a breathing-
spell after the severe repulse the enemy had re-
ceived. the women were allowed to wash and
bind up the wounds as best they were able.

Josie ever affirmed that when Miss Medora
was handaging the wound in the guide‘s head,
she heard a distinct smack, and looking up. saw
Hank hastily wipe his lips with the back of his
hand. And furthermore, declared that it was a

kiss, but whether the scout was the oflender or _

 

 

 

 


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Hank Triplett’s Vow. 2‘?

 

the victim, she could not say. The spinster rc~
torted that it was surely the echo from the cav-
ern where the young couple were.

For some hours the quietness was unbroken,
save by the low whispering of Josie and Basil,
Hank volunteering to keep guard. The sun was
nearly down when the guide heard a cautious
footstep, and then an armful of brushwood was
cast before the entrance of the cave. He well
knew what that meant. The Indians were going
to try and smoke them out I and for a moment
his brow clouded, as he felt the cool ni ht—breczc
blowin through the crevices. But t en as he
though of the numerous holes in the roof, once
the cause of danger, now about to be the means
of savin them from an agonizing death, he
chuckle to himself. He knew that the strong
draft would draw the smoke upward, and thus
leave the atmosphere clear below.

And so it proved, for when the fire was ig-
nited, with such caution that a shot could not
be obtained at the incendiary, the smoke rolled
in in vast columns, and rising to the roof, es-
caped through the apertures. “Then the heat

ew so intense as to become unbearable, he
gsted the wedges, and finding them secure,
walked over and sat down near the lovers, for
such they were. How the understanding came
about, neither could tell; the only knew that it
did and they Were contenta with that fact.

Miss Medora immediately changed her seat for
one nearer the guide, who appeared ver uneasy
at her close proximity. In fact, he won d rather
face a panther barehanded, if he had the choice,
than endure a fete-a-tete with the spinster. In-
ordinately bashful in the resence of woman, he
feared her above all. ut he was afforded a
good excuse for leaving her, as the yells of rage
were again renewed from without.

The savages, who had been congratulating
themselves upon how nicely they were “ demo”
the hated whites, had caught sight of the slen or
columns of smoke, as they poured from the roof
of the cave, and saw that unless these vent-holes
were stopped, their plan was useless. And a
number of them began scaling the mound, bear-
iu clay and sand to plaster them up.

fine after another of the holes were stopped,
andthe cavern began to fill With the strong suf-
focating vapor. he women began to cough,
and even the more werful lungs of the scouts
were oppressed. Seeing that they could inflict no
further injury upon the Blackfeet, Triplett
looked about to see what hope there was for them
to escape the dreadful doom that threatened.
The space around the entrance was free from
smoke, but the heat was so intense that no ad-
vantage could be taken of that fact. Then he
noted the brook, or spring. His face brighten—
ed, for he saw that there was hope.

The inlet for the water was small, not larger
than a man's arm, and appeared to be a passage
worn through the solid rock. There was no
smoke there. He stooped and placed his head
close to it. The air was cool, and a strong cur-
rent of it entered. He knew that they were
saved, and communicated his discovery to his
companions. They drew near, and, kneeling,
fiveled in long draughts of pure and delicious

1‘.
There was no need of watching now, for the

 

huge pile of brushWood and logs blocked up the
only place of entrance. The savages were in
high glee, and danced madly around the hill, ut-
tering their Wild whoops and uncouth songs, in
their deli ht at having so nicely outwit-ted the
whites. ow quickly their tune would have
changed could they have seen the interior of the
cavern, and behold the quartette, as they lay
with their heads closo to the mouth of the outlet,
and experiencing no difficulty in breathing what-
ever.

Time rolled on, and the sun had long since
gone to its rest behind the Western bills, when
the guide uttered an exclamation. The smoke
was graduall dis rsing, and it was now possi-
ble to breat e w ile moving about the cave.
Hank crept toward the doorway. The fire had
burned out, and the Blackfeet were raking the

lowing embers away from before the entrance.
asil stole to the side of the guide, and they
awaited the next movement of the enemy.

CHAPTER XII.
WHOORAY!

THE Blackfeet appeared to think that the
whites had been suffocated, for they did not
scruple at exposing themselves before the 011—
trance, as they stood or walked around in the
clear moonlight. They were only waiting for
the rocks to cool a little before they forced the
entrance. Soon a loud shout was heard and a.
half-score appeared, bearing between them the
butt of a. pine—tree, that they had improvised
into a battering—rain. The scouts looked troubled
at this new enemy, and prepared for the crisis
that was evidently at hand. ,,/

Then strong, willing hands grasped the log
and dashed forward with it, hurling the s uared
butt against the bowlder; It shook slightly.
But immediately the rifles of the white men
s oke. A chorus of wild yells of wonder from
tie Indians. They could not comprehend how
the men could have existed so long. Then the
contents of the pistols were hurled at them.

The ram was again dashed against the bowl—
der. A wedge crumbles and falls; the rock
groaned and quivered. The intense heat had
weakened it. ‘

The women crept forward and mute] ofi'ered
to assist in reloading the Wee )0115. hen one
is emptied, it is passed in s‘ ence to them; a
fresh one is immediately placed in the hands of
the defenders. Shrieks of agony follow every
shot, but still the battering- am continues its
assault. The Indians are ike demons; venge—
ance calls in every tone of their voices, shows in
each of their actions. The hills echo with their -
fiendish yells and bowls. They do not heed the
death that is all around them. When one of the .
men falls at the ram, another takes his place.
The bodies strew the ground about the entrance.
They are rudely pushed aside by the feet of their
more fortunate comrades or used as stepping}
stones. The bowlder that separates the toes,
shakes and gradually givos way before the tre-
mendous force brought to bear upon it. The

two pale, powder-begrimod scouts fake steady , '

aim, and not a bullet is wasted. The women,
transforined into heroes, swiftly reload the disc

’\

 

 

28

Hank Triplett’l Vow.

 

 

charged firearms, from the rapidly decreasing
store of ammunition before them. A grim
smile illumines the visage of the guide. He
knows that the victory will be dearly bought by
the Blackfeet. Then he laughs—a horrible
laugh, as one after another of the besiegers
bites the dust.

But harkl A low tramp as of many horses.
The Kainnas do not heed it. They are wild——
burning with a fierce longing for the blood of
their foes within; even while their last chance of
safety is being cut off. Their ears are closed,
but are destined to be rudely opened—many in
the s irit-wo’rld.

“ ire, men, and then charge home!” rung in
a loud, clear voice, that was partially drowned
by a. Simultaneous discharge of rifles and mus—
kets, followed by a rattle of smaller arms.

Then rose an exultaut cheer, and before the
bewildered survivors could recover their facul-
ties of mind enough to defend themselves, the
horsemen were among them, plying their gleam-
ing steel or clubbed rifles, swung by arms nerved
with hate. The occupants of the cavern knew
then that they were saved.

“ Whoorayl whooray, boys! gi’n it to the cop—
per-skinned varmintsl Rub ’em out! Whoo-
ray 1” yelled Triplett, as he hastily tore out the
wedges and slid the bowlder from its position.

Then he lea into the midst of the fray
swinging his ong, heavy rifle around his head
as if it were afeather, with a wer that leveled
all before it. At every blow 1e yelled out some
curse or adjuration, or gave vent to his hate in
horrible roars. He caught a glim se of the
loved form of his steed “Silver eels,” and
ion upon his back, Without saddle or bridle,
an continued the slaughter.

The fleeing sava es were followed and hunted
down. The still eeble war-chief fell by the
hand of his ancient foe, the guide. The village
was fired, and when the sun rose, not a livin
Kainna was to be seen. The few that escap
wandered far, until they joined the main divi-
sion of the tribe, the Siksikagas. That spot
knew them no more.

 

It was night, ensuing the melee. The whites
had encam d in a grove of trees. Supper was
over. and £39 person were gathered in a group
at the foot of a gigantic oak. Colonel Finger
8 e:

p?‘ It was nearly a week after you left us be-
fore I was able to be ' the journey to the fort.
This we reached, an I then assembled all the
men and told them the story of the capture, and

'Triplett’s advice. Then I called for volunteers
to ‘go with me. There was a company of sol-
diers under command of a friend of mine, Cap-
tain Crandall, and he answered for them.
Others came forward, and you see the number I
,had under my command.

“Then we started, Bob Hurley acting as
guide, for the ‘ Lady’s Canvon.’ This we finally
reached, a little after dark last night, and as it
is only a short mile from the cave, heard the
report of guns quite distinctly. Two of the men
v0 unteered to go forward and learn the cause.
They cre t near enough to see what was up, and,
one of t em recognized Triplett’s horse. Then
we knew that you were either captured or be

 

sieged, and so I ordered an assault. We arrived
just in time, and you know the result," concluded
the colonel.

“ And now, my friends,” he added, turnin t)
the two scouts, ‘ how can I thank you for w at
you have done—how reward you?”

“Don’t talk to me about thanks or rewards,”
quoth Triplett; “ but I ’spect the lad yonder
wants sunthin’. For me, leetle birdy h,yar is

safe, an’ I’ll jest call it squar’ ef she’ll on y give.

rough old Hank Triplett one ki.”

“ A thousand, if you wish them!” cried Josie
winding her arms around his neck. “ Dear old
uncle!”

“ Say that ag’in, birdy, say it ag’ini” exclaim-
ed the guide, in a choked tone, as he folded the
little darling closely within his great arms, while
the spinster, sitting near, heaved a deep sigh,
looking very envious.

“ And you, Basil ” continued the colonel, “if
there is any favor I can do for you, do not hesi-
tate for a moment in asking it; I can refuse you
nothing."

“ I wish I could think so, sir; but the boon I
crave is so great and precious that I fear you
will deem me resumptuous," rising and fintly
taking one of osie’s hands, leading her her
father. “ It is that you will call me son,” he
added, bowin his head.

“ Well, we l” fairly snorted the astounded
father, with a half—puzzled, half-indi nant look.

Miss Medora slid over to the side 0 the guide,
placing her mouth close to his ear, and whisper-
ed in an affectionate, cooing tone:

“ Dear Mr. Trigple, hain’t you got nothing to
ask of him?" wit a very suggestive squeeze of
the hand. '

“ Oh, Lord! is the woman crazy? Blamed of
she won't marry me arter all, whether I want to
or not!" and he glided from her grasp, looking
at her with more fear than he would feel to face
a grizzl bear.

“ We 1, well! Mr, Croteau your proposal is
so very sudden and unexpected that I must defer
my reply for a time. I must consult my daugh—
ter, and I wish to have consultation with you,
also." quoth the colonel.

We will not follow, step by step, the home~
ward journey of the victorious party. It was
not uninteresting or free from perils and dan-

ers; but all these were ha pily overcome.

uring this time the colonel d learned the
real state of his daughter’s affections, and upon
conferring with Basil, the latter satisfied him
that he was in eve respect a suitable match
for Josie, and at last 9 gave his consent.

Hank was the only one of all our characters
who was not perfectly happy, unless, indeed. we
except Miss Medora. The latter followed him
wherever he might turn, showing so plainly the
state of her affections that only the respect felt

for the colonel and his dau hter prevented her;

from becoming the genera object of ridicule.
As it was, more than one hearty la h was had
by the borderers at her expense. er brother
and niece remonstrated with her. but a minute
after she was as 'bad as ever. There was but
one thing that prevented the guide from run-
ning away in the dead of night. He could not
leave his “ leetle bird ” so soon. Thus matters
stood when they reac ed the fort.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hank Triplett's Vow.

 

\

29

 

CHAPTER XIIL

01' COURSE.

GENTLE readers, I am authorized to invite
you, one and all, to attend the wedding to—night,
and particxpat/e in the pleasures and gayeties
thereof.

It is a still, cold night, and as we have to walk
from one end of the town to the other, you will

need our wraps; and as we go, I Will tell you
all I now about the wedding. Ready? Then
come on.

Ugh! how the wind whistles around the cor—
nerl It almost takes my breath! Ain't it lucky
the snow is frozeni—for if it were not, then
good-by to all the pleasant sleigh-rides we have
planned, for a time at least, it would drift so.
How the moon and stars shine, don’t they? Oh
yes,'about the wedding—I forgot.

Well, you remember where we left the hap y
party, at the fort, after the rescue; and that tlhe
colonel had given his consent. As he was not
very well pleased with life on the border, and
was growing old, he resigned his commission,
and settled here in Ireton. Basil at length man-
aged to have the day fixed for Christmas eve—
Josie would not consent to an earlier—and great
preparations have been made.

But here we are, at the gate, and go up the
gravel walk to the door. The great elm trees
that stand on either side of the door are leafless,
and the wind whistles mournfully through the

arled and tangled boughs. The once gay and
rillient flower—beds are covered with a mantle
of snow; the shrubbery is leafless and bare, save
here and there a sturdy pine. But the house
makes ample amends for that, so gay and pleas-
ant. The windows are all illuminated, and
throu h the unclosed shutters we can see the
huge replace all aglow with the great heap of
blazing hickory logs. But it is entirely too cold
to stand here long, so we enter the house.

We put on our mantle of lnvwibility and pro
ceed at once to the “ best room,” where there is
a oodly company already assembled, if we may
jugge from the guy bursts of laughter that meet
our ears. The portraits of Colonel Pinger and
his daughter Josie hang over the mantle-piece,
and numerous engravings adorn the walls. The
room is papered—we are “ out W'cst,” remember
—and a real “ bou htcn ” carpet is upon the
floor. There are “ indoo chairs,” too, that are
a great wonder to the natives, who seem to
doubt their stability, to judge from the can—
tious, deliberate manner in which they sit down
11 n them for the first time. In one corner is a
E ano which is a'great object of interest. Heze-

iah simpson. who once heard it, told a group
of his cronies that “ they bed jest orter see’d
how Miss Josie pulled the music outeu thet shiny
box. It was a heap better’n fiddlin’ an’ jaws-
harpin‘ I tell yel”

So there Was a general_desire to “ hear the
thing go,” and Jesus is Just seating herself at
the piano as we enter: After ashort prelude,
she be 11 that soul-stirring song, “ The Star-
S ed Banner,” and as she came to the
c orus, Basil joins in and the room is filled with
melody. _

The bride has not changed much since we sa w
her last. There is the same fairy-like form, the

 

 

dark, merry-looking eyes, the short, je , clus-
tering curls, the temptin figs and sma , eVen
teeth, white as pearls, t e eautiful hand—in
fine, she was—Josie Pin er. ,

But there is another 0 d acquaintance of ours.
over in that corner, where she has her cavalier,
Mr. Haul; Triplett, securely penned up, and
seems in readiness to intercept the unlucky
Wight should he attempt the flight he is evi~
dently meditating—Miss Medora Finger; surely
you haven’t forgotten her. If you look, you ( an
see the small ferret—like eyes, the th’m pinched
nose, only a bought more peaked, the two stiff,
wiry little curls, that seem only to require a

oint to convert them into first~class angers.

here, too, is the long, bony neck, the angular
form, the wide, smiling mouth, snuff-besprinkled
nose and pointed chin, the long, parchment—like
hand and arm—in One word, the picture of a
sharp, vinogary, sarcastic 01d maid.

But listen; the old maid has thawed out, and
is addressing the stalwart guide, who plainly
wishes he was somewhere far away from her
chattering ton e.

“Oh, dear r. Tripple, I must thank you a '
thousand times for your attention last night.
I’m sure I don’t know but What I’d ’a’ froze hard
as a stone ’1” it hadn’t ’a’ been for you.”

“ Oh Lord!" groaned Bank, in an aside, “ she
hu 0d me so I could sca’cely breathe.”

‘ on’t Josie sing sweetly! I do wonder if
she did really take advantage of leap—year and
pop the question. But I don’t think it’s any
more’n right if she did. What’s leap-year made
for, if not to ive us poor women a chance to
get married, w en the men are so bashful? Now
if I wasn’t such a young an’ giddy girl, perhn JS
l’d (pop to some steady. sober man, who’d ta 0
goo care of a wife an'famil ; some one like
you. Hankford, a few years 01 er’n me."

“ Suckers an’ lizardsl” the gui e gasped,
aside, “ she’s goin’ to pop, an’ is ole enough to be
m great-gran‘mother! Lordy, Lordy, how I
WlSh I’s out 0’ hyar!” and he began beckoning
furtively for Basil to come to his relief, but
without success

“Yes, Mr. Tripple; I don’t think any'lfiody
has any right to live sm le all their lives. at s
not what we’re made or. S’ sing no wple ,
wastogit marriedfor two hun red ears! hy,
what’d become 0’ the world? Goodiess knows,
I don‘t. I s’pose ou’ll get a wife some 0’ these
days, won’t you, {In Hank?”

“ Lordy, Miss Medory, what‘d I want to git
married fer?” stammered Hank, adding, to him-
self: “ It’s a-comin‘ now; I knowed it when she
fu’st corraled me, the ole witch l”

“ Why, my acious, Mr. Tripple, how you do
talk! What oes anybody get married for?
Wouldn’t it be nice, now, to have some dear,
loving person to sew buttons on your shirt, an’
darn your socks for you?” insinuatingly asked
Miss Medora.

“Darn the socks!” muttered Hank, wi in;
gway the drops of cold sweat that dampen his

row. ‘

“Yes, so I said; darn
you, an’_meet you at the car at in lit with a
sweet kiss, when you come home tired an’
dirty from work. Oh, wouldn’t that be nice—- '
such happiness!” and she gazed,an his {m

our socks cook for

 

 

“mum’s—

 

36

with a loving glance that could not be” mis-

taken.

I “ Raaly, Miss Medory, I believe I must go out
deors. I want—want tor—to cough!” stuttered
Hank; .

“ Iiaw, Hank, co‘ugh away; it won’t hurt
nothing. VVhat‘s the matter With you tonight,
anywa .? You act the same as though you were
afraid ’d bite you. You wasn’t so bashful the
night the Indians had us shut up in the cave.
Don’t you remember how you—you kissed me
then, dear Miikford?” laying her hand affec-
tionately upon his arm.

.“Thunderl” he groaned, inwardly, “how .I
wish somebody ’d conie an’ take her away. I’ll
bet a boss ag’m’ a p’int o’ cider that the ole she-
un‘tch ’ll marry me yet, afore the night is over!

\ Confound her, she did all the kissin’ thet night;

I wouldn’t kiss her for the worl’.”
, Just then a young lady came u , Miss Kate
Hudgins, audas she was not very we 1 acquainted
with the persons present, the lovesmitten
Medora proceeded to enlighten her, thus offering
Hank a sli ht respite. After a time:

“Ch 100 y; there comes the minister. New
he’ll marry ’em, and then we’ll have supper i”

In the confusmu and bustle that now ensued,
Kate moved to another part of the house, and
Medora was left alone With Hank, to the great
disgust of the latter. ,

‘ See Mr. Tripple, they’re ‘ust, standing up,
and hes opening his book. on’t it make you
feel funny? I tremble so I can hardly sit still.
on, hain’t it awful? but then it’s all human and
all of us must do the same, ’less we want to die
old maids and bachelors. Say, Hank, it’s leap‘

' year now, and s’pose some nice young girl ’d ask
you to marry her, what‘d you say?”

“Oh, Lordy, I don’t know!” groaned Hank,
his eyes looking like two young moons. “ Don’t,
Miss Medory; please don t!”

“ Don’t what, Mr. ’l‘ripple? What do you
mean? IS the man crazy?” cried Medora.

«’ “ Don’t—don't pop, please don’t! Don’t tell me
howI love—you, I mean,” stammered the be-
wildered guide. a,

“ Bless you. Hankford,’ bless on! How happy
those recious words have me eme feel! Hank-
ford, ear Hank, my heart is too full. let me
rest here, my first, my only love,” murmured
Medera. resting her head upon his bosom.

“ What the—ole cats is the matter wi’ the
wogian? Say, Miss Metlory, what’s the mat«
ter

“0h, Hank, I’m so glad. I’ve loved you for
so long, and now you say that you love me!”

“Me? I didn’t say I loved you!” exclaimed
'l‘riplett.

“ Mr. Tripple, what do you mean? Now that
I’ve avowed my love for you, are you oing to
back out? Just try it, that’s all. and ’1] see if
there’s an justice for apoor, lone female. Just
tr it, an See if I don’t make you smart for it i”
w ispered Medora, her long bony fingers tightly
pressing the bewildered guide‘s arm.

"‘ Don’t, Miss Medory. What do you want me
to do?”

“You must tell the arson that you want to
get married,ror I’ll— ’ll faint in your arms!"

“ Oh Lord , don’t; don’t, Miss Medory, an’ I’ll
do anythln‘.

Hank Triplett’s Vows

 

“ Then tell him!” , ,
“ I caiu’t, oh I cain’t! Let me go, I’m Sick, I
want to 0 home i” moaned the” illefated guide.

“ Tell im then, or I’ll faint and sue you for
breach of promise," whispered Medora, threat.
eningly.

“Mn—Mr. Rog-I" squealed Hank, jum‘ ihg
almost out of his clothes, as the love-lorn am”-
sel’s bird-like claws tightly compressed his arm‘
then breaking down in a prolonged groan as all
eyes were turned toward the couple. astonished
at this unlocked—for interruption, he sunk into
his seat, with the great drops of pempiration
rolling down his face. _

“ My friend, what is the matter? why do you
interrupt the ceremony?” gravely inquired the
minister.

“ I—I didn’t, she—I want to git married too i"
yelled Triplett, in answer to another pinch, and
squirming away from the sharp elbow that al-
most netrated his ribs. I .

“ ell, patience, mly good sir,” quoth Mr.
Rogers, Smilingly. “ here is time enou h for
all things, and your turn shall come next, ’ and
then the bridal ceremony proceeded; ,

Poor Hank tried in vain to escape from his
captor, but her strong arms held him secure,
and the regal head bowed itself upon his e'Xpan-
sive bosom, in order to hide— er maidenly
blushes perhaps.

Tremblingly Hank‘s terror-stricken eyes
watched the ceremony, his pallid lips parted to
emit a heartfelt groan at every response; but
his heart sunk several degrees below zero as he
felt how full his fears were realized, and how
vuiu it won] beto struggle against his dread
fate. He knew that it would be vain to attempt
an escape; the long bony arms encircled him too
closely for that; and he felt, with a itiful sigh
that his fate was settled—that 'edora h
“ pop (1 ” with fatal effect. "

At ength the young‘couple were made one,
and after the congratulations were over, the
gay party crowded around the newly-betrothed
pair, questioning them, and wondering in the
same breath how it all came about. Their ques-
tions were answered by Medora, and the twain
stood up before the minister, ere Bank had re-‘
covered from his bewilderment. In the res
spouses he managed pret well, owing to the
promptith of Medora, an if he was a little in-
coherent in his replies, it was attributed to bash
fulness. Then the final words were spoken, and
the were pronounced man and wife! .

The old maid was married—was an old maid
no longer. Hank did not seem to fully compre-
hend the fatal fact and stared in open—mouthed
astonishment at the merry speeches that were
showered upon them. But it worked through
his brain at len th, for, as the garty broke up,
he was seen to raw Hezekiah impson to one
side, and say):

“Look a- yar, young teller; ye know my
boss, ‘ Silver Heels.’ the one ye wanted to buy
Wal, et' ye'll on’y 'ist take Meder yander, I’ll
give ’im to ye. an’ hrow in in rifle to boot.”

But unfortunately, ’Kiah d1 not see it in that,
light, and Hank was led away by his Medory, a
forlorn captive to her—sharp tongue and power
ful fingers.

THE END.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

1 lieerhunter, the uuy Scout oi’thl Great North Woods.
By 01] Gnomes.

2 Buffalo Bill, from Boyhood to Manhood. By COLPren-
t'nse lnzrnham.

3 Kit Cumn, King of Guides. By Albert W. Aiken.

4 Gordon Lillie, the Boy-Interpreter otthe Pawneee. By
Major. ii. B. Stoddard,

5 Bruin Adumn, Old Grluiy’n Boy Pnrd. By Colonel
Prentiss lngrnhani.

6 Deadwood Dick an nBoy. By Edward L. Wheeler.

7 Wild Bill, the Pistol Prince. By Colonel Prentiu
Ingrnhnxn.

8 The Prairie Rant-h. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr.

9 Rovan Joel The History of: “dex Buy." By A.
H. Post.

10 Texas Jack. the Mustmg King. By Colonel Prentis-
Ingrnhnin.

11 Chnrley Skylark. A Story of Schoolulny Scrnpel and
College Cnperl. liy ltiujnr H. B. Stoddard.

12 Muriposn Murnh. By Joseph E. Budget, Jr.

13 Roving Ben. By John J. Marshall.

14 Spring Steel, King of the Bush. By J. E. Bridger, Jr.

15 “'it'iltle-‘rtwuke George, the Boy Pioneer. By Edward
1 8

16 The Boy “'lzard. Br Hurry Rinzgohi.

17 Peter i’e pcrgrunn, the Greenhorn from Gotham. B '
l! )
Nunli Nul .

18 Adrift, on the l’rulrle. and Amateur Hunter!
on the liulfulo Ruuxe. By 011 Coornee.

19 The Fortune Hunter; "1’, Roving Jne u Miner,
C4:whu_\','l‘rn1rper mnl llunier. By A. H. Pout.

20 Trupper Tom, th» "Wood Imp. By T. C. Herbaugh.

21 Yellow Iluir, the Buy Chiefol' the Permian. By Col.
Prentiss lngrulinxn.

22 The Snow Trnll. By T. C. Herbauzh.

23 031 Gil-llzzly Adumu, the Bear Tamer. By Dr. Frank
0W6 1

24 Woodn nnd “'uterl. By Capt. leeriek “'hitlalior.

25 A Rolling Stone: lnci-ient- in the Career on Senund
Land ui Cul. i’rentiu Ingrahiun. By Wm. R. Eylter.

26 Red River Rovers. liy C. Dunning Clnrk.

37 Plaza mul I’lulnx nr. Wild Adventure: of"Buchkln
Sum." (Maj. Sum. S. llnil.) By Col. l‘. lngrahnm.

28 The Sword Prim-e. 'l he Romantic Life of Col. Mon.
story. By Cnpt. Frederick Whitt xer.

29 Snow-Shoe Torn. liy 'I‘. C. Iinrbuugh.

80 Paul de Lucy, the French. Benet C'nnrmer. By C.
Dunning Clnrk.

31 Round the Cum]; Fire. By Joseph E. Bridger, Jr.

82 \"hlte Benver, the lndiln Mediclne Chief. By Col.
Prentlsa lnzmhnm.

38 The Boy Crunnder. By Capt. Fred. \Vhiitnkrr.

84 The Chase of the Great “finite Stag, end, (Jump
and Canoe. By C. Dunning Clnrk.

85 out Tar Knuckle nnd Hll Buy Clinme. By R. Stnrhurk.

86 The Banking Dragoon: or. The Story of Gen. George
A. Cutler. By Cunt. Fred. Whittaker.

8? Nighhllnwk George. By COLPrentl-a lngrnhem.

88 The Boy Exile: offiiberiu. By T. C. Hurbnuzh.

89 The You": Befll’ lluntern. By Mom. Ruining.

40 Smart Sim, the Led wlth l Level Head. By Edward
“'illttl.

41 The Si-ttler’n Son. By Edwerd S. Ellie.

42 “Volt Ferguson’s Cruise. By C. Dunning Clerk.

48 we and Ravolver. By Clpt. Fred. VVhittnhol’.

 

 

44 The Lost Boy Whaler... 15v T. C. Hulunzh.

45 Bronco Billy, the Seddle Prince. By Col. Inpulnm.

46 Dick, the Stowaway. By Chulel Morn--

47 The Colorado Boyn; or, Life on In Indigo Plnntntlon.
By Joseph E. Badgor, Jr.

48 The Pampas llunt'ern; or, New York Boyn in
liiienon Ayrvia. By '1‘. C. Harbluiz .

4‘3 The Adventurous Life of Nebraska Charlie.
By Col. l’rbntias Ingrnlmm.

50 J lick: Harry and Tom; the Three Chunpion Broihen.
By (.npt. Fred. Whittaker.

51 The Young Land-Lubher. By C. Dunning Clerk.
52 The Boy Detectivel. By T. C. Hnrbnu‘h.

58 Hone-t Hurry; or, The Country Boy Adrift in the
City. By Chnr ee Morris.

54 California Joe, the Myltor‘loul Pleinlmm. By Co].
Prentiss lnmnhnur.

55 Tip Treseei. the Floater. By Edwnrd Willett.

56 The Snow llunterni or,WintIr in the Woodr. By
Barry de Forrest.

57 llurry Somern, the Sailor Boy Mngirlan. By S. W.
Penrce.

58 The Adventurous Life of Cu tuin Jack, the
Border Boy. By Col. Prentiss lngru min.

59 LanTim, the Mule Boy of the Minn. By Chnrlel

i arm.

60 The Young Trnll Hunters; or, New York Bnyn in
Grizzly Lund. By '1‘. c. Hnrhnngh.

61 The Tiger llunterr-fI or, The Coloredo Boy- in Ele-
phunt Lnnil. By Julep E. Badger, Jr.

62 Doctor Carver, the “ Evil Spirit " orthe Plains. By
Cul. Prentiss ing nlnnn.

68 Black Horse Bill, the Bandit Wrecker. By Roger
Starlmtk.

64 Young Dick Talbot; or A Boy- Rongh nml Tumble
mm mm New York to autumn. By A. w. Aiken.

65 The Boy Pilot; or, The liland Wrecker. By Co).
menu... lngrnlmm.

66 The Benet-t. Rove or Stow-w- Dink Am the
Arnhl. By Charles gnrri’e. y m

6? Trim- Charlle, the Boy Ranger. By Col. Prentiu
lngvnhniu.

63 Little Rifle; or, The Young Fur Hunten. By Cnptnln
“ Bruin ” Atiflnll.

69 The Young lgihflint. or A Y-nku Boy Among the
y

ltuuinne. harles t on a.

'?0 Pony the Cowbo : or, The Young Month-11’- Enid.
lty . Injor H. B. Sta dnrd, Ex-Scout.

71 Rulf Robs Irt and llinBenr. By Ceptein “ Bruin "
Adams.

72 The Ice Elephant. By Capt. Frederick Whitaker.

73 The Young Moose-lluntern. By _Wiliism H.
Manning.

74 The Boy Coral-Fisher». By Roger Sterbuck.

75 Revolver Billy, the Boy Rnngor of Tau. By Col.
Prontlls lnzrnhnln. '

76 The Condor Killers. By‘i' C. Hub-ugh.

7? Lud Lionhoeln, the Young Tiger Fighter. By Roger
Storhuck.

7S Flntbont Fred. By Edward Willett

79 Boone, the Hunter. By Captain 1". Whittaker.

Bendie’s Boy’s Library ll {or Illa by nil Newsdenlorl,
live cents per copy, or rent by mull on receipt oftlx cent. “ch,

BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publinhen,
98 William Street, New York

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

32 Octave Pages.
BEBE
A w

80 Kentucky Ben, the Long Rim of the Cllucmlul. By
linger Stnrhuck.
S1 The Kit Curl-0n Club. liy T. C. llnrhnugh.
893 thtle Huck. the. liny Hume. n- hurry lilllwhlil,
83 Pony Bob tine lim lvss Kldn-r hi the 1’... lea. [5y Col.
l’renlisi lnm‘nlntn
34 Cnptnln Fly-l) axial“. Ri- .itm'ph l-I. lsiulger, Jr.
55 Cflnulu Ralplb, the Young i'lxlrlurcr. By (J. Dunning
: nrk.
86 Little iinn Rankin. Ry Mun-is Renlwlng.
8? The Menu erlu Hunters. liy .\lnj. H. Grenville.
88 The Boy ’ ‘rnmpn; or, Lilo Among tha Gipules. 15y
.l. .\l. Iluil'mnn.
89 'Lonznhore Lilo. iiy C. D Clark.
90 Itnvlng “flied uqter‘a Lictilr Scout. iiy T. C. llarhnngll.
91 Oregon JONiI, lhn Wiziml [(lll‘. Ily Roger Sturbuck.
' 92 llnrrlunne Kit. liv A. F. llolt.
93 Jnmplnz Jnkc, the Colariulo ClTCllI Bny. 13y Bryant
linlnin‘iilue.
94 Sum Spence, lllr liromiimrn Buy. By Ed. \Villetl.
95 memv to Niburln; or, A Yunkce Boy to Kill: Rescue.
liv Charles Morrih.
96 Fli‘kla‘t [(1

i .
97 Orlli'lt‘ 01‘th i“ ‘
liv 1‘. Dunning l'lurlt. -
\ ixllm us: or. King (‘nle and iiis llnmi.
i. Siwllli Ii.
hite Threw-nor, Silwr llitlv~ elm Girl Tracker
Supt ln‘. Iiv CHM. (‘llurlt-s llun'nrtl.
Im- Trail; or, The [-‘nrust licspemdoea.
.y (warm,nulumnm
101 )im mm, the Ullnwu Kiri: ur, The Mysterious Canno.
{-1 [‘nlfi'lli'tl 3. Ellis.
102 The Flynn'er Allnnt: 0
Wurlil. liv f'. ' (ilur

fi

{980

r. Ynnkm' Buys ’Rnunxl the
iunnln- k.
103"! Adventures; nr, Silver Tongue
“want mmn

Prnnpoofor: ’l‘he Seurt‘t ofthe Sim»

llv itngur ril-u-hur .
iln- \\'mul \\'itle; nr, The Sqlnltier'nl Ferrel.

. mrmu.

106 The, Boy (‘ ulen; or, J» mnl an's Big Fiml. [iv
Fillfi'lil'li \Vlllt'li. '
107 The Border Hover-l: 01‘.lu-ai nn Um Ovorluml

'l‘rn |. By.) Hilton llnil'lnnn.
108 Almkx 1w. \Vnrllumrn; or, ’l'lvr mm- nmhm‘

llwllxl». ( I'un--. i1\' "npl. ill-\r‘ml lfinr‘wln

109 2hr lull Jim. the White Mnn‘s Frmnl. Bi-Erlivnrd

110 1'lnoky Joe. tlw nay Avonunr:

, LMI, Kills. ‘13; J. Miilun ilufl‘lnnn.

111 The Bin-tier Gunmuker; m, The Hunted Maiden.

In Juan-n: L. Bowl-ll
112 Iérfi-iinmlled Pete, the Dunlulv-Kniio. Tiy .lrmepil
. lint Ln-r, . r.

118 The Iih r Rilica; Or, The l"nt4- nl'tha Finllmnt. By

. . min».
i on the. Plains. llv Edward Willall.‘

Lr ilorn, nnd Jlis Rina limit-uh. lly linger

Slill'imvk-

n", nick Balm-unth-

113 Explnitn oi'liczvklnll limith, th» linrl:wnmisn;r.n_ i

llv Enwmm llmlmnn.

117 Tile, Young )inntnnzcrn: or. Dirk Merrfn ltunu- ‘

t'rq. . RV 1‘. lltlnuin: (lurk.

1154 "Id Tranm: r, tho iin ‘iw.!.,

119 (lento:- shut. tlw . ('nm; or, anim:
Fin! (‘n I pniL'n. liv 'l‘ lint 'IIILflI

120 A Hot Trail: nr,(‘lan(']1-u«,
My (‘Ivnrirr Mmrln.

li_\' flurry Rim'ilnlui.

121 Hunter Part] “on; 0r, Th» \l‘nknsh‘u liliml Leml.’I

liv illizrl‘ Stnrlnurk.

122 The thnlmnnx' Que-cu: «*r. The lij'llt‘r)‘ or the ?

Lune nm. in- a. “man Browne. ,

123 '1‘ the iiov Airr-lmt; nr, Lil'e in the Firm: Ring. By
“ Illll Marril.

124 Queen Rennie. llw Burdcrfl'lrl. Bvilenry.l.'i‘homu

125 'i om 'l‘ulmr, le nay Fuvnix-o; "Jim Yam,“ Lynch.
mung H whim." ny ilnrry Rinkgnld.

126 Mink Cont. the [lentil-Shot; or. The Spring of the
Tiger. By Jim. E. Banger. Jr.

12’? The Deer Ilnntera. By John J. Marshall.

123 “Wolf-Ca g or. The Night-Hawk: of the Firu-Landu.
By Can no. Howard.

 

itifie'a '

“1' Anmug thu 'l'urtnrs.

129 Fliverapur; or, The Mountain Hervlno.‘ By Edward
“'illett.

130 Keen-en, Qw on o the Pln’m. liy Percy H. St. John.

131 “’Intnll. tin: (‘hllui Spy. By lil‘lnfld (Giana

182 The Inland 'l‘rnnp r; hr. The Young White-Buffalo
' ' 'lii‘ll.

llnnicrs. 3 : A 1:
138 The Fort-It hlmeier; ur, The Young llunter’l Foe.
llv Wm. R. Enter.

liy lemma wunu.

iii»! “'lld Nut. Ilm‘l'rmpur. ‘

135 The sine.- Bugle; nr, '1 in; Indiun Maiden or St.
(TI-nix. liy leul. ('0 . llnlellon.

13“ The i'rnlrlv: Trapper. liy C. Dunning Clnrk.

187 The Antelope Buy. By Geo. L. Aiken.

13,4 Long Shot: or, The Dwurl‘Gultla. By Cnpt. Cnmltock.

189 liolonel Crockett, the Bear King. By Charles E.
liil‘rt l).

140 Old Pegs, the Mounluineer; or, The Trapper Rival!-
iiy Lawn n'. ('nl'imlr.
141

The Giant. llnntcrx or, The Mad Scourgo at the
Kicknpuox. iiy Hurry annnl.

112 Black Panther, Hm Half-Blood. By Jouph E.
Bmlger, Jr.

143 (‘nruon, the Guide; or, l'erilu dihe Frontier. By Liout
J n. Rnnxlulpl).

144 Kent, the Ranger; at, The Fugitive: n! the Border. By
Eulwnrd S. Elli».

“Ill Robiblnn, limiter; m,le Man in Green.

lCtla md Vi illoli.

The “Inf-Breed iih'nl; or.The Tangled Trail.

:5 L... E. limlut-r, Jr.

14? The Mnnkeli Avenger. liy Cal. Prentiss lngrnhzun.

148 Nut. the 'l‘rnmwr um! lxnlinn Fighter. By Paul J.

i‘rencnlt.

Tile Elli Demon; or,The Giant llrrthora.

(J. llnrhungh.

150 The Boy Mustang-“nut”; or. Enulnlln, the

lit-nnliiul Aniuznn. l1y i-‘reurrivk Vi hittnhr.

Frnnk Y'ctvn, the Yuung Trnnper; nr, Mountain

Kate's Wm‘nlng. iiy Jla-rph E. Rudiger. Jr.

“'ilil Iinvcn, tine Seoul: or, Blanche, the Overland

Minder). My ()1! n (mun->5.

I.)'nx-( up: nr, Funr ’i‘raI-pvrl’ Amoanhe Sioux. By

I'nul liilulw.

The (‘hlllllPiOfl Tcxnn Rider: or,Rod Biiflnlc,

and ti» llurnu v! i’llll‘k‘i’. Hy [inn-y St. Genrgn.

D 'sky liicl .1 Doom: or, Tobe Cunwr, the Old

Scout. By Jim. Fl. Hmiunr, .ir.

Frank [it-1', the Buy Spy; onThe Hyntery of Cryutul

irikn. ii) HI! t‘nnnns. ,

I‘h-k Doyle, the “mid Hunter. By P. Hamilton

. 311's).

Klllrmpm-d Dink; M, The Fnte M the Fire Fly. By

.Slnulv y mml.-mn.

Ham‘s 1.0m: 'l'rull; or, 'i'hc'i'wlu Scnutn.

iizlmilirvll.

linnlt Triplct‘r.

Tnu'k. n l my

161 Tile Mini .‘ltlpycr.

11.2 The 'l‘l'npp r King.
nun; .\lu}' ~11.

108 Sir In Kenton, liunu‘r.
i y Mny us.

101 The Buy Chief: or. Frank BPH’: Cmnpnrt. Bv Ull
Comnel. Randy mm 4. ‘

165 The Trader Traitor.
andy Junr ll.

Baudle’n Boy‘s Library In for “Io by all New-dealm.
flvo cents per copy. or sent by mail on receipt ofnix cent. eavh.

BEADLE AND ADAMS. Pubml,
08 William Stmt, New York.

145 By,

146

149 By T.

1592

159 By W. J.

160 ' w: or, The Old (luhla’s Wrong
u.

i:
iy R. \Inrhnck. Ronviy Mny H
ii} Maj. Max M rlinr.

By Elnerunn iiudmvu.

By J. Stanley Hinder-rm.