Copyrighted, 1887, by 8)“an AND Amma. Entered at the Post Office at New York, N. Y‘. as Second Class Mail Matter. March 19, 1887.

 

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PARTING THE BUHHES, MY EYES FELL UPON A HOLE SUFFICIENTLY LARGE T0 ADMIT THE EASY ENTRANCE
OVA MAN‘S BODY, AND THROUGH WHICH PROTRUDED THE HEAD AND SHOULDERS OF AN INDIVIDUALQ

 

8 Lynx-Cap.

' Lynx-Cap;

Four Trappers Among the Sioux.
BY PAUL BIBBS.

CHAPTER I.
AN OLD AND NEW ACQUAINTANCE.

YEARS ago, while wandering like a waif
thro h the "Great West,” chance once more
broug t me to the then small village of St.
Paul.

I had scarce debarked from the steamer, when
an individual detached himself from a group
assembled on the wharf,and approached me. He
was habited in a suit of buckskin, fashioned after
the regular frontier style, carried a. long, heavy
rifle, and was. in short, the tout ensemble of a
trapper. I knew them, one and all, at a glance
-—the tra per, clothes and weapons. It was my
old frien , Bill Price.

“ By the livin’ catamount?" he exclaimed, as
he joyfully approached me. “ Bu’st, my b’iler,
if you hain’t the young feller as warwith us

some two yeern ago, when we wiped out that ar’

Injnn, Bloody Arm, and his band. Ain’t yer

e
“Yes, Bill,” I answered, “I am the very
same.”

“ Whoopl I thort sol Give us yer aw, old
boss,” exclaimed the trapper, extenv ing his
strong, horny hand. “Many’s the time this
child has thort 0’ you since last we met. I tell
you, Bill Price is rather a hard nut, he ar’, but

6 niver forgets a friend, he don’t. But come,
boyee, whar are ye goin’ to roost? Ef ye hain’t
engpged a berth, I kin show ye one as '11 suit

9

“ Capital} Where is it?"

“ Wal, it ain't hyur, I reckon, but about two
miles or so up the river."

“ Very good,” I answered. “ You shall be

my Wide.”

‘ 9.1 then, we’ll make tracks at onc’t."

Shouldering his rifle, which he had before al-
lowed to rest on the ground, the trapper, follow-
ed closely by me, left the wharf. But, after
walking a few rods, he suddenly stopped short,
and said:

“Waghl Dog-gone me, ef I didn’t forget to
ax you at you hadn’t any baggage to look
arter?”

“No.” I replied. “All that I brought with
me is upon me."

‘ We resumed our course.

“But, Bill," queried I, “what brings you
down here at this season of the year, October?
I expected to hear of your—that is if you were
still alive—being busily engaged in raising the
skins of beavers and rats.

“ So I ort to he,” replied the trapper, “but
them ’ar’ durneri Injuns hes begun to kick up
one of tha’r rumpuses ag’in; so this child has de-
ciderl to keep a sharp lookout on the settle
meats. What brought me down hyur war to
git a. fresh supply of powder an’ lead. as I mav

av considerab e shootin’ to do afore long,” and

 

I.
tlfe old fellow beckoned to his well—filled powder-
horn and bullet-pouch.

“But, young' feller,” he continued, “what
brought you up hyur? Arter furs, eh?’

“ o,” I replied; “I have quit the trading
business. Love of adventure is what brought
me here.”

“ Sart’in! Well, young feller, it’s this child’s
opeen an that you’ll see a glenty o’ it, ef you
stays angenough. As I sai afore, the reds is
gettin’ rather rambunctious in tha’r manner, an’
ef it comes to flghtin’, we’ll do some mighty tall
shootin’, I reckon.”

“ We? Who do you mean?” I inquired.

“Why,” answered the trapper, “ thar’s a
company 0’ us organized—a full nineteen 0’ us,
reckoiiin’ myself as one—thet can out-swim,
lick, shoot or wollop all the Injuns this side 0’
the infernal regions 0’ the departed reds. Ees,
siree; the red as can circumvent us hain’t round
hyur, he ain‘t."

On hearing this information from the old fel—
low. my heart bounded with delight. I was in
search of excitement and here, no doubt, would
find that for which I sought.

However, I said nothing, and we continued our
course. A walk of two miles brought us suddenly
in sight of a. comfortable log-cabin, which, the
trapper informed me, belonged to Rube Nash, a.
friend of his. Without any ceremony, the
trapper entered, I following. The cabin con-
tained but one room, having at one end an im-
mense fireplace. In the middle of the floor
stood a rude table, near which were a couple of
e ually rudelooking benches. Fastened to one
0% the sides of the room was a pair of immense
elk’s antlers, which served as a support for a
game—bug and small fowling—piece. This at—
tracted my attention. Save ourselves, not a
living object was in si ht.

“ ugh!” exclaime Price, noticing the ab-
sence of his friend. “ Rube ain’t hyur. Neither
are his dog. Out arter some grub, p’r’aps.
Howsumever, that makes no difference. Make
yourself at home, younor teller.”

Without further adoj unshouldered my rifle,
leaned it a ainst the wall, and seated myself on
one of the nches. '

Some fifteen or twenty minutes had elapsed,
whenafootfall outside the cabin reached our
ears, and the next moment the owner of the
cabin, accompanied by a large, fierce blood-
hound, entered. He was a man of some forty
years of age, of large stature and well propor-
tioned, and dressed in the regular style of a
Western frontiersman. In one of his hands he
grasped a heavy rifle, and slung across his
shoulder was a magnificent wild turkey, which
he had succeeded in capturing.

“Hullol Billy, boyee,” was his greeting, at
the same time taking a careful survey of me.
“ Got back, eh?”

“ Ees,” replied the trapper. “ Rube,” he con-
tinued. motioning toward me, “ this hyur, young
feller ar’ an ole friend 0’ mine, Mr.—— Dog—gone
me. of I haiu’t forgotten your name!”

“Montgomery,” I replied, rising from my
seat

“ Snrt’in it ar’. Wal, Mr. Montgomery, this ar’
Rube Nash." ' .-

1 extended my hand, which was heartily

 m,  v. , g... 1 A .

 

 

i

 

Lynx-Cap. 3

 

grasped by my new acquaintance, and the in—
troduction was complete.

An hour later and the fire had been kindled,
and the turkey was being cooked for our even—
ing meal. It was now near sundown. As some
time would elapse before our meal would be
ready, I emerged from the cabin and strolled
down to the river’s bank, not more than a dozen
rods away. Here, seating myself beneath a
monstrous oak growing close to the water’s
edge, I contemplated the delightful scene before
me. The Mississippi, as its waters rolled rapid-
ly onward, seems to be ablaze with the crim-
son rays of the sun dancing upon it. All things,
save the evening zephyrs, which moaned through
the treetops, seemed to sleeE.

For u wards of half an our did I continue
there. hen I was about to rise .to my feet,
when an object caught my eye which restrained
me. That object was a canoe far out on the
stream, but still near enou h to enable me to
perceive it quite distinctly. t contained but one
person, and seemed to be heading nearly to the
spot I occupied.

My hunter’s instinct warned me to “ cover."
My eyes fell upon an object which, I thought,
would answer. It was a huge bowlder, lying
almost at the water’s edge, some ten feet or
more from where I sat. At one side of it was a
clump of cut brushwood, under which, if I
could but reach it without discovery, I could
easily hide. I was well armed, carrying in my
belt a brace of Colt’s revolvers and a bowie.

Crouching to the ground, I glided toward the
bowlder. Arrived there, I crawled beneath the
pile of brush. By this time the canoe and its
occupant were not more thanahundred rods
away. I looked to see if I had been seen. Ap-
parently not. The canoe was being propelled
over the water with the greatest rapidity. 1
was still unable to discover who the occupant of
the craft was. He appeared to be heading di-
rectly for the rock beneath which I lay crouched,
as that spot offered a convenient landing—place.

I had not long to wait. Ere a dozen minutes
elapsed, the canoe touched the shore, and its
occupant jumped out. It was an Indian, tall
and muscular, and dressed in full war—paint!
As he stood there", his body’ewas straight as an
arrow, and he appeared to listening intently.
I lay still as death. scarcely daring to breathe.
The noble-looking warrior before me was evi-
dently a chief. His dress, bearing, and every-
thing about him, seemed to denote it. I marked
higqfeat;res well.

017 earing anythin suspicious the Indian
shortly drew his canoe Evell ashore ;’ then. after
another careful survey around him, strode ma-
jestically away.

It was some time after I had watched him
disappear in the gloom of the forest, opposite to
the direction in which lay Nash’s cabin, ere I
rose from my hidingplace, and set out on my
return. Iknew that, by this time, they would
be uneasy about my absence, and a very few
moments sufficed for me to reach the cabin.

CHAPTER II.
THE ronns'r COUNCIL.
ARRIVED there, I found Price anxiously
awaiting my return. In fact, he had just con-

 

 

cluded to go in search of me, and I found him,
rifle in hand, standing near the doorway. In
as few words as possible, I made him acquainted
with what had transpired.

“Geehosephat!” he exclaimed, as soon as I
had finished. “ What did the red look like.”

I described the Indian‘s appearance as ac-
curately as possible. As Idid so, a gleam of
intelligence lit up the tra per’s features, as well
as that of his comrade ash.

“ By the ’tarnal airt quake!” said the former
“it was Feathered Arrow, fu‘st chief o’ the
Menomonees.”

“Sart’in;” replied Nash. “What c’u’d hev
brou ht him hyur?”

“ agh!” said Price, “to determine that ar’
aseasy as rollin’oif a lo . I’ll bet my skulp
ag’in’ a plug 0’ trader’s to ace that he are in
flur ayfight. What else c’u’d gev brought him

yur

“Right, boyee,” said the other. “That are
this child’s opeenyun adzactly. So, the fu'st
thing to do are to put the settlers on the watch.
The storm may burst at any moment.”

These were men quick to decide, and, after a
few moments’ consultation, it was determined
upon that they should that very night set
out for New Salem, 8. small village some thirty
miles west of St. Paul. There they expected to
be joined by their comrades, of whom Price had
made mention. I, at my request, was to ac—
company them.

Supper ended, we prepared to leave. Our
preparations, such as they were, were soon com-
pleted. The door of the cabin was closed, and
fastened securely by a contrivance which had
been invented by Nash, and then we took up the
line of march.

Our direction lay almost due West. As the
night was very dark, and both trappers know-
ing the route as well as if it had been daylight,
we ran but little risk of being seen by any stray
sava e who mi htbo rowling about.

Mi e upon mi e badgeen passed; still we kept

on.

It must have been midnight, or nearly so,
when a. yell, which brought us quickly to a halt,
sounded horribly loud and defiant, in our ears.
Then followed another and another, as equally
loud and vengeful as the former. We. knew
the meaning of them well. It was the War—cry
of the Sioux.

We came to a quick stand—still, laced the
stocks of our rifles on the ground, an paused to
listen. No more yells reached our ears, but, at
a long distance through the trees, ‘we could see
the lurid reflection of a fire.

“Waghl” exclaimed Price, “tha’r’ hevin’ a
pow-wow, I reckon. Let’s go an’ catch a squint
at the varmints?” ,

“Ees,” consented the other, ever ready to
brave danger in its worst form. “ P’r’aps we’ll
find Feathered Arrow thur. If so, darn me of
I don’t fotch the varmint out 0’ his boots
quicker ’n a flash 0' greased lightnm . The
quicker he are out o’ the way, the be 1', sea

“ Right, beyee,” chimed in Price. “ His'n
w’u’d be another addishun to this child’s already
somewhat large collection of ha'r. Did ’ee iver
see my collection?” addressmg me.

in ..-

4 ' Lynx-Gap.

 

“ No,” I replied.

“ We], then, ef I don’t get rubbed out afore
to-morrow, lee shall see it. Waghl I hev
enough 0’ Injun ha’r to make a featherbedl”

On givingr utterance to this terrible jest, the

' trap rchuckled.

“ omel" exclaimed Nash, growing impatient
at the delay, “it’s uv no use to stand hyur.
Let’s be off at onc’t.”

Once more shoulderng our rifles, we began to
cautiously approach the spot whence came the
glare of the fire. A quarter of a mile’s walk
brought us to the edge of a somewhat spacious
clearing. Our enemies Were butai‘ew paces from
us. Nearly a hundred in number, they were
seated in the center of the clearing, round a
tremendous fire of dried brushwood. As we
peered at them through the bushes, we could
watch their actions and count their number,
easily. As I glanced round the circle, I tried to
discover if the Indian Whom I had watched that

, evening was one of the number. He was. He

was seated not far off, silently puffing away at
his calumet, and listeninor to the harangue of
one who had just risen to his feet. I turned to-
ward my companions. They, too, had discov-
ered him, and were watching him as a cat
watches a mouse. What it was, I know not, but
there was a something which told me that all
would not end as calmly as it had begun.

As soon as the savage had finished his ha-
rangue, he seated himself. Then, quickly cast—
ing aside his calumet, the chief, Feathered
Arrow, arose. It was time for the crisis. The
very instant the Warrior’s voice fell upon our
ears, I heard‘the simultaneous click of my com-
panions’ rifles. The reds, too, must have heard
the sound. for several of them started wildly
and gazed round as if to find out what had
caused it. They had not long to wait.

Quick as thought, my companions leaped to
their feet, and rought their rifles to their
shoulders with a 'erk. The next instant came
the reports, and he mark at which both had
aimed fell to the ground. It was Feathered
Arrow!

Simultaneously with the savages, I leaped to
my feet. Already the tra rs had commenced
to rapidly quit the spot, b1 ding me follow.

Glancing over my shoulder, I saw the savages
coming toward us in a body. Loud and venge-
ful yells resounded through the forest, which

7 only served still more to quicken our footsteps.

“ Wagh l” exclaimed one trapper, as we dashed
'on, “we’ve got rid 0’ one more varmint, by
geehosephatl But the next question are. whar
are we to make fur. Not fur the St. Peter’s,
as that are a good fourteen miles away."

“ Thet‘s surer’n shootin’. Not being as soonle

' as T war onc‘t, I’d fag out More I wur halt-way

thur. Besides, the reds is cinss behind, and the

, sooner we throw ’em off the scent the better.”

This was true. Although we had had the ad-

‘vantage in starting, we could tell by the yells of

our foes that they were not more than a score of
rods behind us. Every moment, it seemed. de-
creased the distance between us. Still we kept
on. It would have been of no use to have con-
cealed ourselves among the bushes, for we well
knew that our enemies would not fail to beat
every bush they might come across. Why not

 

take to the trees? These might conceal us. I
put the uestien to my companions.

“Ees,’ was the answer, “providin’ we hev
time to climb up afore the reds uint us.”

“ Come, then, let us try. othing risked,
nothing gained.”

Each of us quickly selecting a tree, we fortu-
nately succeeded in concealing ourselves among
their branches before the red-skins arrived upon
the scene. The foremost of them passed the
trees we occupied with a rush.

To our surprise and consternation, we saw
that a score or more ,of the hindermost ones
carried a lighted torch each, and with these they
were following our trail.

On making this discovery, my blood ran cold
Within me. Our situation was now more terri-
fying than ever. Perhaps it would have been
better for us if we had still kept on, trusting to
the darkness to lead our pursuers astray.

Was there no hope of escape? I scarcely dared
ask myself. Would it do for me to descend the
tree, and makes. bold dash for life or death?
Hardly. I could count, by the glare of the
torches. stationed about the very tree I occupied
some dozen or more of foes on the watch for our
appearance. Bold as was the idea, I was about
to carry it into execution when a different plan
suggested itself. Growing not many feet from
the tree I occupied, was another, whose immense
branches intermin led with the former’s. I
thought that by this means I should be able to
effect my escape the more easily.

My mind was quickly made up. Heavens!
every moment that I lingered where I was the
danger was becoming greater Our trackers,
fierce and frenzied, were every instant nearing
the end of our trail.

Ascending the tree for a few feet as quickly
and silently as pessible, I crawled out on one
of its huge branches as far as it could hear
my weight without sinking; then, grasping
hold of a limb belonging to the other tree, I
crawled carefully along it until I reached the
main body. Fortunately for me, the savages
were now some slight distance off, and this con-
sequently gave me a. better chalice. Marking
we I the obstacles in my way, I slid rapidly
down the trunk. Just as I regained the ground
one ofthe Sioux, who happened to be looking in
that direction, perceived me. Tomahawk in
hand, he sprung toward me, at the same time
giving utterance to a wild yell. The next in-
stant I heard the “ whish " of the tomahawk
as it flow by me, justgrazing my shoulder.

I was about to take to my heels, and, trusting
to my speed, put as much distance between me
and my enemies as possible, when a question
presented itself which caused nie to linger where
I stood. It was this. Would it be right to thus
desert my companions. who, I knew, must still
be in the trees they had taken to? Would they
have thus deserted me, had they been in my pm
sition? No.

Accordingly, I had full resolved  stick by
them to the last, when I card the vows of the
trapper, Price, exclaim: .

“Run, young teller—run like blazes! Never
mind us. We’ll come through all right. Keep
on in a straight line until you come to the river.
Then wait for us that.”

my... rm.

f.

 

 

.. no «a»;

 i 5

 

The cracks of two rifles followed the conclu-
sion of the trapper's warning, and as many sav-
ages fell to the ground.

N otwithstandm my friend's words, In heart
rebelled at the t ought of deserting im. I
would stick by him to the last. Besxdes my rifle
and knife, I carried two of Colt’s revolvers—
making, in all, thirteen shots. Taking a. position
behind the tree beneath which I stood, I fired
shot after shot as rapidl as possible. Ten out
of the thirteen shotstoo eflfect, for I counted
that number lying upon the earth.

Owing to the rapidity with which the shots
had been fired, the savages were somewhat stag-
gered. With a yell of rage and terror, those
that carried torches droz‘pe them, in order that
their lights might not betray to us their position.
I knew that, many of them as there were it was
now their turn to become alarmed. Why is
easily ex lained. At that time the Colt revol-
ver was ut a recent patent, and this was the
first time in all their lives that the savages had
ever heard its dcathlike detonations. I knew
that the rapidity of the shots had caused them
to mistake our number. Reasonin thus I
breathed more freely. By this time etorches
had become extinguished, and it was quite dark.
My companions, where were they? Why did
the not descend and join me?

he Sioux had ceased their yells, and, save the
occasional shrieking of the owl, the forest had
become still as death.

1 reloaded my_empty weapons. The two trap—
pers were still absent.

Half an hour elapsed, and still no sign of
them. I knew that it would be madness to call
them. My voice would have betrayed my posi-
tion at once.

I now felt ill at ease. I could hear nothing of
the movements of our enemies, yet I knew full
well that they were remaining any thing but in-
active. ,Once, I felt certain I saw by the dim
light a dusky form flit from tree to tree but a
few aces in front of me.

I new that to remain where I was much
longer might prove fatal. The savages might
recover their courage, and rush upon me in a
body. _I resolved to quit the spot instantly.

Turning, I began to glide awa from where I
stood as rapidly as possible. had not ad-
vanced more than a dozen yards when my further
progress, for the present, was interrupted by
the sudden appearance of a figure directly in my
path. Quick as thought, I jerked one of my
weapons from my belt, and cocked it. But,be-
fore I had time to level it, a voice said:

“ Hold! 1 am your friend.”

CHAPTER III.
WASCK-O-TALA.

THE voice was that of a woman!

“ Who are you?” I asked, in surprise.

“ Who am I?” she answered. “ I am Wasch—
n—tala, the Autumn Leaf. You are a. pale-face.
I am their friend.”

The actions of the girl, no less than her words,
were singular. What had brought her there at
that hour of the night, alone and unprotected?

“ Yes," continued she, hearing no answer from
me, “ I am the friend of the pale-face. Arra—
hoo-chee, the Strong Arm, is a paléface. He

 

 

has taught me to love them. Even now Wasch—
o»tala can hear his voice in the happy hunting—
grounds. Soon will she join him.”

Her words were now even more strange than
those she had spoken before. There was only
one we in which I could fathom the mystery.
The gir was mad. Her words, and the manner
in w ich they were spoken, told me that my sup—
position was not incorrect.

But I was delaying. I started forward once
more, determined to leave the girl where she was.
She saw the action, and, though mad as she was,
guessed my motive. Quickly springing forward
she grasped me tightly by the arm, at the same
time hissing in my ear the words:

“ Pale-face, beware!”

“ Beware? Wliyfore?”

“ Because,” answered she, describing a circle
with her arm, “ you have enemies. The red-man
has once more dug up the hatchet, and before
another moon has come many a pale—face shall
weep. But come, we must uotstay here. Follow
Wusch-o—tala. She can save you, and she alone.
Sta here and you are lost.”

0 ient to the irl’s command, I followed
closely in her rear, 5 e slowly leading me away
from the spot where Iliad first met her. We
continued on thus until a barter of a mile’s
walk brought us to the foot 0 an immense tree,
which threw its huge arms over 1:. small creek '
some fifteen feet in width.

“Be silent,” whispered my guide, motioning
toward her lips. “ The red-man is near us.”

“ Do we cross?” I asked, in a low tone, ointing
toward the creek. She shook her hea , at the
same time motioning to me to kee quiet. I re-
solved to watch her movements c osely. Up to
this time, not the slightest suspicion of anything
regarding the Indian girl’s sincerity had crossed
my ‘ min . Now, however, the thou ht struck
me that I had foolishly allowed myse f to be led 7
into a trap. And, too, by a woman! The thought
was at once both gelling and terrible.

But see! What is the girl doing? She has
taken from a small, richly-embroidered pouch a.
peculiarly-shaped whistle, which she applies to
her lips. A few shrill notes peal through the
woods, and the instrument is returned to its re—
ce itacle.

had now become desperate. Good Heaven!
was I to be captured without a single effort to
effect an escape, fruitless though it might prove
to be? I cursed my foll bitterly for havmg
thus allowed myself to be ured on.

With such thoughts raging within me, I glanc-
ed quickly about me in order to see, if possible,
which direction would be most likely to insure
my esca, Watching me closely as she was, the
girl again guessed my motive. .

“ Pale-face, again Wasch—o-tala bids you to
fear not. Again does she tell you that she loves
the pale—faces too well to be their enem ."

“But why,” questioned I, “do you t us seek
to bring down your people upon me? What was
that signal for?” '

“ That,” she answered, “ is a signal known only
to one among mv tribe. That one is he who
seeks to make the Indian maiden his Wife. It is
he who will save you.”

On hearing these words, I knew not how to

act. The situation in whichI was placed was

<2
..
t
t

 

 

 

3 Lynx-Cap.

 

certainly a singular one. True, there was a
something about the girl that convinced me that
her intentions were" honest, yet I longed to put
myself away tom her presence as quickly as
possible.

While these thoughts were wandering through
my mind, my reflections were brought to a sud-
den stop by the rustling of a footstep on the
leaves. The sound proceeded from my rear.
Turning quickly, I saw before me the tall and
majestic form of a young warrior. He saw me
no sooner than I did him. and both of us simul-
taneousl grasped hold of a weapon—he his tom-
ahawk, my revolver. But, before either of us
had timeto use them we were interrupted by
the Indian girl. She laid her hand upon the arm
of the young Warrior, and addressed him in
words I did not understand—erupt“ , as if com
mauding him to do something. hatever the

' words were, they were not Without their effect

11 on the Indian, for he returned his weapon to
his belt immediately.

“ Well, pale-face ” he said, in tolerably good
English, “since asch-o—tala wishes it, for a
time I will be your friend.”

“ Yes,” said the girl, “Ah- a—ho—yee, Who is
the friend of Wascho—tala, Wi 1 take you safely
to our people.”

0 saying, the singular girl spoke a few more
uicklv uttered words to the young warrior,
t on walked away from us till she was almost
hidden from view. Here she paused once
more.
“ ale face.” she said, addressing me. “ fare-
well. Remember that she who now speaks
words of caution into your ear is the sister of
him whom you once saved from death. Go now
to your people, and until the hatchet of the red-
nian is once more buried, remain you with

. them. Then Wasch-o—tala will see you again.”

She was gone. I was alone with the young
warrior.

He was standing motionless, his arms folded
across his chest, eying me with an expression
impossible to depict. ‘

‘ Well white man," he said, at length, “are
you aim d?”

“ Afraid?” said I. “Afraid of what?"

“Of him who stands near you?”

At first I knew not what reply to make. I felt,
however, that it was no time for child’s play. I
knew that, were I to Show the least evidence of
fear. it would be but a signal to lead me on to
my doom. Again I surveyed the savage. He
was tall and muscular; so, too. I knew myself to
be. If he was armed, so was I—a’rmed, too, in a
manner he little dreamed of.

“ Red-man,” I answered, “ why should I fear
you? I, too, am well armed—perhaps better r0

' than what you are. I fear you not.”

“ Well,” he said, as a grim smile crossed his
features, “ perhaps the pale-face is right.
Come, for soon will the morning bird awake
from his sleep, and the pale-face would be in
danger here.

Then, unfolding his arms and walking toward
a clunp of bushes growing near the creek, he
drew forth a small canoe. Into this the savage
stamped, bidding me follow him. I did so, tak-
ing a seat in the stern end. Then the craft was
pushed OE, and headed down the stream.

 

We continued on thus for somewhat upward
of an hour, when the red-skin allowed the canoe
to come too standstill in close proximit to a
large bowlderlymg at the water’s edge. aying
asi e his paddle, my companion step d ashore,
motioning me to imitate his examp e, which I
did. After drawing the canoe from the water,
and carefully hiding it beneath a clump of
hazel-bushes, we directed our course throu h
the forest at a right-angle to that of the cree ,
proceeding slowly, and observing the utmost
caution in order to avoid meeting with any band
of Sioux.

By this time day was rapidly auiroaching.
Far away on the eastern horizon cou be traced
a streak of gray clouds, heralding the approach
of the great orb of light.

After several miles had been passed, we sud-
denly debouched from the forest, and I found
myself in close proximity to the banks of a wide
stream. It was the St. Peter’s. My heart
throbbed with deli ht. I dared breathe free
once more. for here felt that I was safe.

We came to a standstill, my companion iii-
forming me that he had now fulfilled his prom-
ise to the Indian girl, and that he would not pro-
ceed with me any further.

“ Pale—face,” he concluded, “ we may meet
again, but if we do, it must be as enemies. Fol—
low the river ”—pointing down the stream—
“and it will lead you to your friends. Fare-
well!” v
Ashe concluded the savage gave aparting
glance~anything, I thought, ut an angry one,
and stalked proudly away. I bade him halt.
He did so.

“ Warrior!” I exclaimed, hating to part with
him without some slight recognition of the no
small service he had done me. “Hold! You
have perhaps, saved my life. Here, take this
small token to remember me b , and forget not
that one pale face, at least, w' 1 always be your
friend.” - '

As I rpoke I drew forth from one of my
pockets a small, pearl-handled stiletto which I
happened to have with me, and held it toward
the Indian. He approached .until near enough
to take it. then examined it with a pleased loo .

“Pale-face.” he said, as he received it, “ Ah‘.
ya—ho-yee will not forget you! Farewell I”

So saying, he was gone.

CHAPTER IV.
LYNX-CAP. .

MY course, so the savage had informed me. lay
down the river. Of course, the locality being an
entirely strange one to me I could not do other—
wise t an follow his directions. It was now
quite light enough for me to see my way dis-
tinctly, so I resolved to set out at once, keeping
close to the river‘s bank.

My thoughts reverted back to the events of
the preceding night. Mine was certainly a singu-
lar situation. At that hour the day before, I
was sound asleep in a luxurious state-room
aboard one of the many floating palaces of the
far-famed Mississippi; now I was alone in the
vast forest. far away from friends or even ac-
quaintances. following a path that would lead
me—where. I knew not. I thought. too. of my
two companions. I wandered where they were.

r

 

 

 

. . WNW“ n

Lynx-Cap. 7

 

Had they fallen victims to their fierce foes, or,
like me, esca ? I knew that the latter was
the more like y. Those were men to whom dan-
ger gives the sagacity and cunning of a hundred
ordinary men, and fperhaps often before had
they escaped from a ar more critical situation
than the one of last night. Had I done wrong
in deserting them? No. I had waited until it
would have been but madness to have done so
any longer.

” Hullo, thur! Say, young feller, ain’t ye
somewhat afeard—without any reference to my
allusions—0’ geetin’ skulped?”

The voice~taking me as unexpectedly as it did
—caused me to come to an abrupt halt.
looked about me in order to discover the speaker.
He was not to be seen, though I searched well on
every side.

This caused the mysterious individual to give
vent * sort of a chuckle.

“Wal,” said the voice, at length; “jist step
this way an’ ef yer eyes is sharp yer’ll see me!”

[Guided by the sound, I made my way toward
a. large clump of hazel-bushes, growing some
twenty feet or more from the river’s bank.
Parting the bushes, my eyes fell upon a hole suf~
fiCientI large to admit the easy entrance of a
man’s Ody, and through which protruded the
head and shoulders of an individual whose ap-
pearance at once both surprised and amused me.

“Wal, young feller,” he said, as he saw me
stare at him, “ ye see the old feller now for sar-
t’in. But, without wishing to allude to any in—
sinuations, who be yer?”

“ My name,” i replied, “is Montgomery.”

On caring me say this, the individual sprung
from the opening and grasped me warmly by
the hand.

“ What! Are you the Iyoung feller as war
with m ole friend Price w on that ar old red-
skin, B oody Arm an’ his band war rubbed out,
some two yeern or so back?”

I answered in the affirmative.

“ I tl ort so,” said the trapper—for such my
new aciiuaintance was. " By the livin’ cata-
mount! ’ve heerd Billee tell 0’ thet ar leetle
circumstance more’n a dozen times, I hev. But,
YPHUE fellel‘. Without any reference to any allu-
Sions, what brings yer out hyur? These is rather
sheery times, these is. The reds war howlin’ last
night, by the livin’ Woodpecker!”

In as few words as possible, I related to the
trap r what had transpired since my arrival in
St. aul until the present moment.

“Ees,” said be, when I had concluded; “ it
ain’t likely as Billee went under. N0, sireel
Both him an’ Nash ar’ too old coonsto be cotched
in a trap no wusser nor that. W h!”

“ Excuse me,” I said, “but you have not told
me your name.”

“ That’s surer’n shootin’; so I haven’t. Wal,
young teller, I’m %nerally known around hyur
by the name 0‘ ynx-ca . My right name I
forgot, yeern ago, though do remember I had
some sort 0’ a name whar I war raised, down
in the old Kaintuck, whar the schoolmarm used
to wallop me wi‘ the ramrod o’ her lovyer‘s rifle.
But come: it‘s rather skeery to be sfandin’ a—
talkin’ hyur. This child war jist a—gom’ to hov
his breakfast when he heerd ye a—Comin’. He
feels rather empty about the stomach, he diz.”

/

 

So, indeed, did I, for it was now hours since I
had last tasted food. Leading the way, my com-
panion caused me to descend into the aperture
where I had first met him, until I found myself
inside of a singularly-shaped cavern, some seven
feet in diameter. Seating himself on the cabin
floor, Lynx-cap drew forth from a sort of haver-
sack he wore, several pieces of jerked buii'alo-
meat, of which he offered me some.

There was light enough streaming in through
the aperture for me to notice my companion’s
appearance distinctly. He was a man of cer—
tainly fifty years of age, below the medium
stature, with small gray and twinkling eyes, one
of which he kept, when conversing, continually
opening and closing in a very curious and amus-
ing manner. It was that which had arrested my
attention when first I set eyes upon the old fel-
low. His dress was composed of buckskin; and
his arms consisted of a rifle, knife and hatchet.
On his head he wore a very peculiarly—sha
cap—fashioned after a style, no doubt, original
with him—formed from the skin of a Canada
lynx. Hence his nanie—Lynx-cap.

“ So this is your hiding-place, is it?” I asked,
desirous of becoming better acquainted with the
old fellow. I

“ Ees, young feller. One 0’ them, at least.
I’ve more’n half a dozen in these woods in one
place or another.”

“ You have no reason to fear being found out
here, I suppose? This is one of the best—con—
cealed places I ever saw l"

“ Wagh!” answered the trapper, as he gnaw-
ed away at a huge slice of the meat, “ this hyur
spot can’t hold a candle to the one whar our
kumpany meets. P’r’aps Billee has told you
about it?”

“ No,” I answered. “ He told me of there
being a company of trappers organized—but
nothing more. Are you one of the number?”

“Am I? Yes, siree, I is! Waghl Without
alluding to any insinuations, this child don’t be-
lieve in belonging to a sodger kumpany, he
don’t: but, when it comes down to a. kumpany
o’ trappers, whar every man can fight on his own
book, then _this child’s right thurl We hev a
cave not fur down the stream, whar we meet: '
an’ nary a red—skin can ferret us out thur, by
geehosephat. Arter grub’s over, we’ll take a
tri down thur, ef er likes.”

f course to this I signified my willingness;
and as soon as our humble repast was finished.
we emerged from our hiding-place—not, how-
ever, until the trapper had ascertained that we
were free from observation.

Cautiously making our way to the edge of the
river, the trapper drew from beneath a clump _
of willows a small birchen canoe—so small that
it was impossible for it to contain more than two

rsons.
,, “This,” said Lynx-cap, pointing to i ,_“ is the
fastest lcetle critter around these digg'm’s. she
ar’. I call her the Fire-fly. Ees, siree, once
aboard 0’ that ar leetle craft, thur’s not. a red-
skin this side 0’ Hades as kin catch up 'Wlth her.
But come. step in.” .' ‘

Using the utmost caution—401‘ the h htnees of
the vessel required it—I succeeded n seating
myself in the stern, without accident. I was
quickly followed by my companion, who, seiz-

 

 

 

'the edge 0

ar’ clump yonder?”

 

8 , Lynx-Gap. ,

 

ing the paddle, directed our course down the
stream. The trapper did not allow the canoo to
float out a reat distance, but kept in almost

‘ close to the ank. Like a true son of the woods

that he was, the trapper seemed to be continual—
ly on the alert, straining both eye and ear in or-
der to guard against any surprise. I could not
help a wiring the skill with which he used the
paddle. The canoe fairly leaped through the
water, yet he dipped the paddle so silently that
it caused no more sound than would have done
the ticking of a watch.

Some two miles had been passed, when the
tra r suddenly ceased to ply the paddle, and
311% the air once or twice in a suspicious man-

ner.

“Waghl” he exclaimed, turning toward me,
“that’s smoke, surer’n shootin’, y the livin’
woodpecker!”

He was right. The air was fairly charged
with the odor of burning pine and brushwood.

“ Young feller,” he continued, “ I’ll bet yer,
without referring to any insinuations on the
subject, I’ll bet yer a plug 0’ tobaccy ag’in’ a
skunk’s plow, thet that ar smoke comes from
Poictiers, a leetle village not mo‘re’n half a mile
from hyur.”

I made no reply, and Lynx—cap began to set
the canoe in motion once more. We now pro-
ceeded slowly, and with more caution than be-
fore. We knew that at any moment we were
likely to run into an ambnscade, and we accord-
ingly had our Weapons ready for immediate use,
shoulrl it become necessary.

“Young feilcr,” said the trapper, after a few
minutes had elapsed, “somehow or other, this
coon don’t like the appearance 0’ things, he
don’t. So, without any reference to any allu-
sions, did ye ever stalk an Injin durin’ the tarm
o’ yer experience?"

‘I have,” I answered; “on more than one
occasion. Why do you ask?"

“ Because, if ye can this child thinks it’s best
to take to the woods. his ar’ a dangerous way 0’
Eoceedin’ in time o’ trouble. Wagh! we shedn’t

surprised at any moment to hear the sound
0’ a red-skin’s arrow. Eos siree, Bob! This
child purposes to take to the woods quicker ’n a
squ’l’s jump.” _

Giving the paddle he held in his hand a pecu-
liar twitch. the trapper caused the canoe to veer
round head inshore. A sectind or two sufficed
to reach it, and we both stepped ashore. The
next moment the canoe was concealed among
the willows, and we commenced to proceed for
the woods. V

At that point, there lay between the river and

the forest a strip of wet, marshy
land—probably some two hundred yards in
width.
As the eye of Lynx-cap fell upon this, I saw
him hesitate. Evidently he disliked to cross
over.
“’Twon’t do,” he said, after some slight de-
liberation' “ 'twon’t do by the livin’ wood~
ker. 1:31! I thort thet— Whew! did ’ee see

“See what?" I asked, as the trapper's voice
reached my ear. “ I saw nothing in particular.”
“ But this child did, though! Do ’99 see that

‘ hat?”

595'.

 

The trapper pointed as he spoke to a clump of
tall rushes growing in the midst of the marsh.
I replied in the affirmative.

" Wal, thur’s Injins thnr,” was the quiet re-
joinder.

“Indians! How do you know, Lynx-cap?
Did ou see any?” ,

“ 0, not adzactly, but sart’in signs thet this
coon kin see through easier nor fallin’ off a log
tells him he ain’t-fur wrong.”

During this time we had been concealed be-
hind the foliage of a friendly bush, peering
through the leaves in the direction Lynx-cap
supposed our enemy or enemies to be. Though
I watched the spot indicated by my companion
intently, I could not detect the least Sign of any
thing suspicious. The trapper’s rifle lay across
his knee, cocked and ready, while his quick,
piercing eye was not even for a second removed
from the clump of rushes.

For upward of half an hour we continued in
that position, and I had begun to think the

rescnco of enemies existed only in the old fel—

ow’s imagination when suddenly, the tall form

of an Indian stood up in the midst of the rushes.
I glanced toward my companion. My eyes met
his. He said nothing, but there was a look
about him which said no loss than words would
have done: “Was I not right?” I turned my
eyes once more toward the savage. To my
surprise and consternation, I saw that he was
the one I had watched 'cross the river the night
before, and at whom Bill Price had fired—ethe
Menomonee chief, Feathered Arrowl The sav-
age’s dress, his plume of eagle-feathers were not
to be mistaken. No, Bill Price had missed his
mark, and the Indian still lived!

Lynx-cap, to my surprise, was watching his
every movement. Why did he not fire at the
savage, as I had expected? , .

The chief was standing erfectly straight,
with his back toward us. V e could have shot
him easily as he stood there, but savage as in-
deed he was, my heart revoltrd at the thought
of slaying a human creature thus.

“VVaghl” said the trapper, in a low tone,
“it w’u’d be a ity to draw a bead on him in"
that position. ISy the livin’ Woodpecker] he’s
the fu’st Injin as iver I thort that much 0’.”

At that instant, the savage uttered a loud
cry, and jumped upward several feet in the air.
As soon as his feet reached the ground again,
the chief, with features horribly distorted,
bounded forward as if he were mad, heading
directly for where we were concealed. , '

What could it mean? Was the savage mad?
I put the question to the trapper.

“Waghl young fellcr, yer ain’t fur off 0’ be-
ino‘ right, I reckon. I may be mistaken, but I’ll
be 1:; Beaver plew he’s been bitten by a rattle-
sna e.

 

CHAPTER V.

FEATHERED ARROW.
WITH eyes dilated to almost double their
usual size with pain and terror, the savage was
not long in reaching the at we occupied. His
face was blafggand swol en—the effects of the,
poison; for x-cap was right. The chief had

been bitten by a rattlesnake. ' ,
When near enough, Lynx-cap, suddenly

\

\

r’

V,

 

;
i
l
l

"9'

 

w.  i .

 

Lynx-Cap. 9

 

springing up, grasped the savage by the arm,
and held him as if in a visa.

“Hold on thurl” he cried. “P’r’aps we kin
cure you, ei yer does as we tells you. Whar
war yer bit, c ief?” The savage pointed to the
ankle’ of his left limb.

The trapper next commanded him to sit down.
Producing a piece of buckskin thong from his
pocket, the rude yet kind-hearted trapper pro-
ceeded to bind it tightly around the wounded
limb, an inch or so above the bite. This done,
he rose to his feet, and began to closely scru-
tinize the ground. His eye quickly fell upon
what he wanted—a small and unpretending
plant of some species strange to me. This be
seized upon, approached the prostrate form of
the Indian once more, and squeezed the juice of
the plant upon the bite. The stinging sensation
it caused made the patient roll over and over on
the ound, groaning terribly.

“ Vagh!” said Lynx—cap, “he’s a red-skin,
sart’inl V. But as a red—s in once cured this
coon o the same complaint, and guv me his
recipe, I take this opportunity 0’ settlin’ the
debt. I wish we had a drop 0‘ whisky fur him,
poor devil. ” .

In one of my inside pockets I had a small
flask filled with brandy. This I produced, and
proffered it to m companion. He seized it
with joy, and be] it up toward the Indian’s
mouth.

“Drink,” he said. “Swallow every drop 0’
it. It’ll ease yer pain, yer’ll see,”

The chief seized the flask and emptied it al-

» most at a single gulp.

From that moment, his pain seemed to abate.
His body ceased to swell, and to return slowly
to its natural color. The poison had been con-
quered. The chief would live. In an hour’s
time he was able to speak.

“ Pale—faces,” were the first words he uttered,
“ La—roch-ee will never forget you! He is hence
forth your friend. The lying Sioux have dug
up the hatchet once more, and the pale-faces
shall see that the Menomonee chief, who comes
from afar to avenge the wrong done to his peo-
P19, Speaks words of truth. is tongue is not
the ton no of a Sioux—La—roch—ee lies not.”

“Re -man." said I, when the Indian had con—
Cluded, “did I not see you last night with the
Sioux in council?”

“ Pale-face, last night I was with the Sioux,
but it waste bid them beware if they dug up
the hatchet. Pale-face, La-roc —ee speaks the
truth. Wait, and you shall seel”

“ Wal, Injun.” said Lynx—cap, who had up to
this time remained silent, “ Without wishinl to
refer to any insinuations. you may, or you may
not, speak the truth. P’r’aps, owsumdever,
yer can tell us what is the cause 0’ this smell in
the air—I mean that smoky smell i”

“ Because.” replied the savage, raising his
arm and pointing down the river, “last night
the Sioux burned the village.”

“ I knew it,” exclaimed the trapper, on hear-
ing this. “ I knew it, young feller, by the livin’
woodpecker! Wal, Mister Injun, ar’ all the vil-
lagers skulped, thar?” .

“ No, they are in the fort. Tho Sioux war-
riors though, still surrourd it.” .

“ agh!” exclaimed Lynx-cap, in an angry

 

tone' “ why warn’t the boyees thar? They
coul n’t hev missed seein’ the blaze. As fur this
child, he wuz some distance up the river, be
war.

The savage now rose to his feet, and announc—
ed his intention of departing, which, seeing that
we made no objection, he accordingly did. He
recrossed the may sh, gained the edge of the
forest, then turned round and faced us. Then,
to our surprise and indignation, the treacherous
warrior jerked forth his tomahawk, brandished
it once or twice above his head, and pealed forth
the Sioux war-whoop! A second later, and he
had disappeared under the cover of the woods.

I turned toward Lynx—cap, in order to see
what effect this had upon him. He was stand—
ing motionless as a statue, leanington his rifle,
and his eyes fixed upon the spot where the sav—
age had disappeared. His lips were pale and
bloodless, and drawn firmly over his teeth.

“ Never mind,” he said, at length, in a tone so
very calm that he surprised me; “ thet comes
from sarvin’ a red-skin. Some day or other we
shall meet again, and then look outl”

At a signal from the trapper, we made our
way once more toward the river.

‘1 Thet skunk sod that the In 'uns still sur—
rounded the fort, Wagh! this chi d knows from
thet thet thar ain’t a rai-skin for miles aroun’,
he does.”

The canoe was once again dragged from its

hiding-place, and, after embarking, we again
headed it down the river.
. After two or three more miles had been ac-
complished, my companion informed me that we.
were nearing the village, or, at all events. what
remained of it. A few more sweeps of the pad-
dle, and my ,eyes fell upon a dozen or more
smoldering heaps—the once happy homes of the
brave, noble pioneers! At some distance from
these stood, the Village fort, the only remaining
structure of the lot. U )on its parapet we could
plainly see a number 0 men, armed and ready
or the foe, should he return. Most of them
were the villagers, but a few were uniforms.
These, of course, were the soldiers that com<
prised the garrison.

“ Wal,” said Lynx-cap, as he headed his canoe
inshore, “ I guess the ln‘ins hev mizzled, judg~
ing from appearances. o hyur goes fur the

ort.

We were soon landed once more, and, running
at the top of our speed, gained the stockade.
Perceiving us, the sentry at the gate opened it
only long enough for us to gain the inclosure,
then shut and barricaded it again.

We were immediately surrounded by a crowd
of wondering and inquiring villagers. We
learned from them how, the night before, the
Sioux had burned the village, and how they
themselves had escaped being massacred by be
ing warned of the foe‘s approach and taking to
the fort. Who was it that had warned them?
It was the Indian maid—Wasch-o—talal I

“ Wal,” said Lynx-cap, after having patiently
listened to the description of the fearful scene
{alga}: had transpired, “thar's none 0’ ye missin’,
e ?

“ Yes,” res nded several eagerly, “ there are
two—Jenny ylde and Hermione Monteith.
Yesterday they strolled into the woods to gather

 

 

 

 

10 V _ Lynx-Cap.

wild flowers, and that is the last we have seen of
them. The rangers, however, are on their
track, and, with God‘s mercy, we may once
more see them.”

“The rangers!” echoed Lynx-cap. “War it
them as drove the red-skins off?” *

“Ye-z,” was the reply. “ But for them the
fort would doubtless have been taken.”

“ By the ’tarnal woodpeckerl Why in blazes
warn’t this child hyur? Wal, which direction
did the reds take?”

“To the northwest.”

“ How many 0’ the boyees are thur arter
m?”

“Just twenty‘htwo,” said one of the settlers.
“ I counted them myself.”

“ War Bill Price and Rube Nash among ’em?”

“ Yes. They arrived just as the rest were
pro aring to start.”

y heart bounded withdelight. My friends,
then, had escaped.

“ Wal,” resumed Lynx-cap, after a few mo-
moments’ silence, “how many reds wur thur,
about?”

“ At least a hundred and fifty,” replied one of
the assemblage.

“Did any 0’ ye see who war thur chief?"

“ We did,” echoed several voices. “It was
Black Cloud.”

' “ Black Cloud, eh? This child knows whar
that nigger holds forth, he does! Waghl ef the
boyees foller his niggers cl’ar totha’r villa e,
they’ll hev a long tramp o‘ it,,sez I. It’s a cl ar
ninety miles. it is.” .,

The tra per stood leaning on his rifle, gazing
down its ark barrel with one of his eyes; the
other he kept tightly closed. Those who were
Well acquainted with the trapper knew that this
was his invariable position when engaged in
working out some scheme or other, so they did
not attempteto disturb him.

He had on in this position for certainlya
quarter of an hour. and most of the bystanders
had departed to different parts of the fort, when

, he suddenly looked up, and said to me:

“ Young felier this child thinks it’s best to fol-
ler the boyees. They’ll need all the help they kin
get to ainsart’inty, afore they’re through. Will

on 220
y “ Certainly,” I answered; “ nothing could
please me better.”

“All ri ht, then! We], we‘ll start at onc’t.
As the regskius hev prisoners along—the two
gals-we kin cotch up to ’em easier nor swimmin'
a mill-dam.”

Hurrah! I had come hither in search of adven-
ture —m y ever-ruling passion-and here was I to
find it! Here, in company with one whose in-
stincts and knowledge of forest life surpassed
those of the red son of the wilderness, I was to
help track the fierce Sioux to his very lair. The
risk, I well know, was fearful indeed; but. be:

lieve me, I felt not the slightest inclination in-

the world to show the White feather.

Without more ado. I and my companion once
more made ourlway to the gateway of the stock-
ade. ,Ouce more was this unbarred, and we soon
found ourselves outside the inclosure, and ap«
preaching the St. Peter's with hasty steps. ‘

‘.‘ Afore we start,” remarked Lynx-cap, “ we’ll
go to the cave an’ get a good supply 0’ meat. It

 

ain’t fur from hyur—only half a mile or so up;
stream."

The canoe was quickly launched, and we once
more embarked.

In less than a score of minutes we had reached
a point of the river overhung With high, rocky
cliffs, steep as the walls of a house. Here the
canoe was again run ashore, and we debarked.
My companion led me on until I stood within
three feet of the cliff smooth as glass. Running
along this was a l dge, so narrow that it was
only with the utmost care that I managed to
make my way along it. At last this came to 9.
terminus, and I found myself standing upona
huge, flat rock, some ten feet in diameter.
Lynx—cap now produced a strong buckskin—thong
lasso. Looking upward, my eye fell upon an
a rture in the rocks about ten feet above us.
S ill above this, there projected some trio feet or
more from the face of the clifiz‘ a craggy iece of
rock. With a dextrous swing of the asso, it
fastened itself round this rock, and, old as he
was, the trapper succeeded in reachin the aper-
ture by means of this in a twinkling. a crawl—
ed inside, and became for a few seconds lost to
View.

 

CHAPTER VI.

THE SECRET CAVERN AND ITS HISTORY.

I WAS not long in following the trapper’s ex-
ample and forthwith found myself in a passage
some ve feet in hight. The trapper bade me
follow him. 0! course the hight of the passage
caused me to stoop as I proceeded. After pro-
gressing in this manner some fifty feet or more,
we. came to a halt. Here the singular passage
came to an end. Producing another lasso tho
trapper secured it in some—to inc—mysterious
manner, and seizing hold of it, slid dOWDWard
into what seemed to be a yawning abyss. Noth-
ing daunted, however, I no sooner knew that he
had reached the bottom than I prepared to fol-
low. Downward, hand under hand I passer;
for over twenty feet, then I felt myself touching
the bottom. It was dark [as Egypt,

“ Wal, young feller,” said the trapper, “ hyui‘
we are, safe and sound. , Keep clue to me, an’

ou'll soon find yourself in dayli ht onc’t ag’in.
eep clus, now, as this ar’ a mu; ty rough place
to travel over.”

By taking hold of the fringe of his hunting-
shii‘t, I was thus enabled to keep close to him as
we proceeded along What a peered to me to be a
huge cleft between two roc s. It had, no doubt,
once been the bed of a stream, as the bottom was
sandy and pebbly. Suddenly turning an angle
of one of the rocks, I could tell b the echo of
our footsteps that we were ins. rge and spa-
cious chamber. ,

“ Hynr we are l” exclaimed Lynx—cap. “ Wait
a. minute, young feller, an’ we'll hev a Ieetle
light on the subject.”

Finding his way to a distant corner of the
cavern, he produced a flint and steel, and a
moment after lit a pine torch. _ haxl now an
opportunity for examinin this Singular place
well, the lare of the tore illuminating every
portion 0 it clearly. ' In shape it Was rather
oblong than round, being. at. its widest extremi.

ties, some sixteen feet in diameter. Its top was ,

 

 

a

 

 

e

.9? ‘ j ;

 

1.
3.

l
3

Lynx-Gap.

'11

 

somewhat dome-shaped, tapering more and

more toward an apex as it rose upward. At its
top there was a very small aperture, which
served as an egress for the smoke. In one of
the corners furthest from the spot where I
stood, a small stream of limpid water ran trick-

ing down the rocks. Stretched, too, across the

chamber were several strings of tasajo, which,

the trapper informed me, had been laid by for

any emergency. Nor was this all.

_ In another corner lay a huge pile of dry pine-
.knots, which the rangers, who made the cavern
their home, had provided for the cooking of
their food W hilc I had been occupying myself
11 taking in all the Wonders of this mysterious
abode, Lynx—cap had thrown together in the
center of the chamber a number of pine—knots,
and set them ablaze. Taking down from the
strings a number of pieces of the jerked meat, he
set them over the blaze to roast. As the savory
smell ascended to my nastrils, it caused my
mouth to water. I had not partaken of food
for hours, and my appetite was almost beyond
bearing. 80, too, was that of my companion;
for the meat was no sooner cooked than he
seized upon it as a ravenous animal would have
one.

“ Lynx-cap,” said I, as we proceeded with our
men , “ who discovered this singular cave? Do
you know?”

“ We], no, not adzactly, since this hyur part
war the rendezvous o‘ Injuns long afore this
child heerd 0’ it. I kin inform yer, howsom—
dover, who fu’st showed it to this child.”

" Who was it?”

“It War an his]. He war called by this
tribe the Silent rrow. Waghl That Injun
could shoot, he could! Every time he drew his
how it war a caution to snakes.

“ Ecs,” he continued, gnawing away at a huge
slice of the tnsajo, “thar’s a somewhat queer
stor about this hynr cave.”

“ hat is it, Lynx—cap?” I asked, eager to
hear what the story might be. “Tell it to me!”

“ Wal,” said the trapper, as he swallowed the
last morsel, and producing and lighting an odd-
.shaped wooden pipe, “ one day, some time before
I war acquainted with the locality of this cave,
I bed set my tra s in the river. just ODPOSitG
this pomt, on t‘ot’her side 0’ the stream. It war
not long arter sunrise. I lied jest finished haul—
mg in my last trap, an’ war preparing to mizzle
for home, when chanced to squint my eyes
acrosst the river, hyur.

“ Wal,‘ young feller, I see’d stan'in’ on the top
0’ the cliff three Injuns—two warriors an’ a
s uaw. But they warn’t stan’in‘ still, I reckon.

o, siree; the way they war aafightin’ wuz a
caution to rattlesnakes. At last, howsomdever,
one 0’ the reds fetched t’other a. sockdolager

, with his tomahawk. knor-king out his brains and

tumbling him over the cliff at one blow. Poor
teller! He war dashed on the rocks below to
almost a jelly.

“ He bed no sooner touched bottom, when the
young squaw on the cliff ran like mad afr’in’ the
remaining red-skin, sending him in his turn over
the cliff like a flash. In less than three seconds
both red-skins lay on the rocks near each other.
both deader’n a meat—ax. I watched the gurl
class so as to see what she’d do next. She sud-

s

 

denly disa peered from the cliff, and arter a few
moments see’d her down near the river. She
made her way to whar the two dead red—skins
lay, then grab ed hold 0’ one o’ ’em an‘ dragged
the body clussto the river. A moment alter
she chucked it into the stream, what it war not
lon afore it disa peared.

“ oor gurll he went to the side 0’ the other
red-skin, an’ sat down by the smde 0’ his body
Whar she stayed all day lon . As fur myself, I
kept out o’ sight. I wouldn t hev disturbed thet
gurl fur a hull cargo o’ beaver~plews. Though
her skin war red, I knew that she lied her feel-
in’s as well as we hev. How-somdever, when I
went to look arter my traps the next morning,
nothin’ o’ the gut] nor the dead Injin war to be
seen. Supposin’ thet she hed buried him an’
gone back to her tribe—who lived only a mile or
two upstream—>1 thought no more 0’ the ser-
cumstancc, but went on tendin’ to my traps.
Thet arternoon my shanty war visited by agrist ‘~
0' reds, who hed kum on pu se to an me ef I
had seen anything 0’ the gnr . In coorse I guv
’em an account 0’ what hed happened the (lay
afore, and axed ’em ef the gurl hedn‘t been back
since. They said no.

“ In coorse it war immediately decided upon
that the In "ins shed hunt fur her.‘ One 0’ ’en ,
in particu ar, who war the young squan’s
brother, war in an awful stew about her. It
war he as told me how the row atween the two
Injins hed begun. Wagh! young feller, it war
the old story. Both 0' the red-skins luv‘d the
gurl, an’ so they went on the cliff to fight it .
out atween ’em, whar the Injin as the gurl
luv’d war killed by him as she didn’t. Knew-
in’ that this child could outlick any 0' ’em at
trailin’, the Injin—who war the Silent Arrow
as I mentioned to you afore I commenced—‘—
axed mcto go alon . In coorse I consented,
an’ we crossed, over t e river in a big canoe the
Injins hed brought along.

‘But, waghl It war 0’ no use, whatsom—
dever. We s’arched an’ s’arched, but not a
single si :1 o’ the gurl’s footsteps could we dis-
cover. 8 night war comin’ on, we gave up the
s’arch, and I returned to my shanty acrost the
river, in company with Silent Arrow. As for
him, he warn t a—goin’ to give u the s’arch jest
yet. He knew that his Sister ed bid herself
somewhar abouts, ’an’ be war determined to find,’
her, or bu’st a-tryin’l >

“ The next mornin’ we war on the hunt ag’in.
It war sometime in the mornin’ when the Injin ,
recollected thet he knew 0’ a. cave somewhar
hyurabouts. ‘ Lynx—cap,’ sez be, ‘my sister
knows about thet ar cave, an’ we will find her
thar, I’m sartain.’ He led to whar thar war a
hole in the ground, an’ told me thet thet led to
the cave. Clussl y follerin’ him, it war not long
afore I stood in this selfvsame place. It war
the fu’st time thet this child, leastways, ever
dreamed that thar war such a place. ’_

“And so,” said I. interrupting him, “there
are two entrances are there?” '

“ No,” said Lynx-cap, “ it war not long arter
that that I found a way uv gettin’ into hyur as
war not q’uite so easy as the other. I mean the ,
one as we ve -'est knm in by. As for the one the ,,
Injin show me, me an’ them 0’ the boyees
plugged it up with 81203165, all’ It’ll take asmmfer

 

 

 

 

 

12 Lynx-Cap.

 

fellgr nor an Injin to kum in that way, I reck-

on.

“ But the Indian girl. Did you find -her
here?”

“Ees, young feller, we did. We foun’ her
a-lyin’ on the cave floor, cluss by the side 0‘ her
dead luvyer. She hed dragged him there. am”.
like him, war dead when we found hers, Wal, I
helped Silent Arrow to bury ‘em both, an' then
he went back to the tribe. Poor Injin! Ihev
never set pee ers on him since. He war the
on] red—skin, y the livin’ woodpecker! as this
chi d ever cottoned to during the hull term 0’
his experiencel”

The trapper’s singular story was ended, and
we commenced to make preparations for our de-
parture.

A quantity of the tasajo was packed in our
haversacks, and a strict examination made in
order to see if our weapons were all in good
trim. This being done, we had nothing further
to do than to await the coming of darkness,
when we were to start.

I asked the trapper if he felt certain of our
being able to catch up with the rangers. Yes,
he felt certain that we could do so easily.

“1 know whar them Injins as the boyces
m" arter live as well as I know whar I am at
this moment,” he said. “We kin go part 0‘
the way by water, an’ in that manner gain on
’em in double-quick time. About seventy miles,
or thereabouts, from hyur, thar’s a ravine as
the Injins ‘ll hev to pass through on ther way to
tha‘r village. Now, young eller, my plan ar’
this. life kin, ef nothin’ happens, reach thar
store the reds, an’, hidin’ among the rocks,
watch ’emas they ass through. Wal. of the
boyees hev succeeded) in rescooing the prisoners,
we kin make tracks fur home easier nor fallin‘
off a log; an' of the boys ar’ still follorin’ on thar
trail we kin j’ine ’em.’

‘ Such was the trapper’s plan. Knowing it to
be a good one, I, of course, made no comment,
and the conversation for a time ceased, each of
us busying himself with his own thoughts.
, CHAPTER VII.

WATCHING THE FOE.

WHEN we made our way once more throu h
the diflicult passageways and emerged into t e
open air, it was night. ’I‘he stars were shining
bri htly in the heavens. but there was, thanks
to ortune, no moon. We found our canoe iust
as we had left it; and in a. few moments we ad
embarked and were far out in the stream.
Each of us were now provided with a paddle,
and we sent the light craft over the water at a
ra id rate. ‘

ile after mile Was passed over, and we had
long sine) left far behind us the foremost of the
frontier villages. We were now in a region in-
habited only by a few of the most daring trap-
pers, the fierce Sioux holding undisputed sway
ovefiit. Years it would be before these fierce
lords of the forest were subdued, and the pioneer
allowed to usurp the land. Poor red-maul My
heart sym atbizes with yours! No wonder that
on hate he paleface as you do. for what is he
nt 3, tyrannical usurper? If he has suffered
much at your hands, so, then, have you doubly
so at his, ~

 

It yet wanted an hour to morning when we
ran the canoe ashore and debarked. Here the
trapper informed me we would not require the
canoe any further for the present, so we accord—
ingly concealed and secured it among a thick
clump of rushes.

Soon after leaving the St. Peter’s, we entered
a somewhat deep and narrow gully covered at
the bottom with a thick growth of grass and
underbrush. .

As daylight was near at hand, Lynx-cap dc-
cided to remain there until ni ht, asthe gully
would afford us a good hiding-p ace.

“ Wagh l” remarked the trapper, as we threw
ourselves Wearily on the soft grass, “this child
hes been hyur afore. he hes. About four yeern
ago, or thereabouts, when this coon made his
celebrated escape from the same lnjins aswe ar’
arter now, I hid in this place fur two days. Yo
sees thet ’ar rock?” he continued, pointing to a
huge stone near us which the rising sun enabled
me to see uite distinctly. “VVal, 1 war sta~
tioned ahin that, an‘ though thar war about a.
score 0’ the red devils guarding both ends 0’
the gully, thar warn’t one 0’ the hull grist as
dared to come down to cluss quarters. At last,
howsomdever. I managed to git myself out
’ithout tha’r squintin’ me, and makin’ tracks fur
the woods.” '

We remained where we were in the gully
until darkness came once more, then continued
on our course through the forest. Knowing al-
most every foot of ground we passed over, the
trapper shaped our course so that not a rod was
lost. As we ran great danger of detection by
bands of prowling savages, the eyes and ears of
the cunning trapper were ever on the alert for
any moving object which might present itself.
However, another morning arrived without any-
thing having occurred worthy of note, and
found us secreted in a spacious clump of hazel
bu :hes. After partaking of a breakfast of
jerked meat, washed down by the water of some
small stream close at hand, we lay down among
the bushes to rest until darkness once more set—
tled over the earth.

At last it came, and again it found us upon
the march.

After a weary tramp of about thirty miles,
Lynx-cap informed me that we were rapidly
nearing our last halting-place. We would l'car'h
it, he said, in less than an hour.

He was correct, for in less than thirt minutes
we had reached the commencement of t e ravine.
and were descending. What was to be our next
plan? Of course we wished to conceal ourselves
in a spot where we could watch the savages as
they passed through the ravine. This could be
done at two points—either from among some of
the rocks with Which the ravine abounded. or
else from the clilfs which overhung it. The
trapper, though both points had their advan—
tages, after some deliberation decided in favor
of the latter. So we began at once to slowly toil
up the steep and rugged cliif. We had no fear
of our trails betraying us, for the ground was
too well beaten down for that.

The trapper was confident that the Sioux had
not yet passed through the ravine on their return
to their village. He had no doubt, though, but
what they would on the marrow, that is, if they

 

 

Lynx-Cap. I 18

 

still retained their prisoners. We ined the
summit of the hill, and at once song t out the
most favorable spot for concealment. By this
time it was nearly morning. Night was giving
place to day. Away off to the cast, among the
treetops outlined against the horizon, could be
seen a streak of gray, which soon gave way to
one of bright red. This was indicative of ruin.
The morning brought with it a cold, chilly
breeze,causing us to wrap our blankets around us.

As the sun appeared above the horizon, I took
a careful survey of our position. We were on a
cliff some two hundred feet or more above the
ravine, and covered with a thick growth of pine
and cedar trees. Away to the northeast, beyond
a long strip of prairie-land, was something that
glistened 1n the light of the sun like polishtd
silver. It was a small lake. Beyond it lay the
forest.

Why, I knew not at the time, but there was a
species of fasoination about that sheet of water
which caused me to gaze upon it long and earn-
estly. I tried to direct my gaze and thoughts
another way, but found it impossible. They
would gradually wander back to the lake. I
fancied that I could see smoke curling,r up among
the trees to the rear of it. I asked my compan-
ion’s opinion about it.

“Ees,” he said, turnin his gaze in the direc-
tion I pointed out, “ the njun village is thur.”

The morning passed—slowly enough to me—
and midday came. As yet there we no signs of
the foe. Afternoon came, and night was re id-
1 y approaching. The foe will not come. ut
we are mistaken. As the sun has just touched
the horizon, we are aroused from our reveries
by the loud whoop of a savagel It is the foe!

e hurriedl crawl on our hands and knees to
the edge of t e cliff and look over.

The foremost; of the band has just debouched
from the forest, and is entering the ravine. He
is (lillckly followed by another, then another, all
in ndian file. As soon as the foremost has
reached a point nearly a uarter of a. mile up
the ravine, he comes to a alt, his example be-
“3 imitated by the rest as fast as they arrive.
For_over an hour do we watch them file into the
rav1ne until a hundred and fifty warriors arch-
iicath us. The evidently intend remaining
there for the nig t. Huge piles of brushwood
are collected and set fire to. Some of the sav—
ages carry on their backs a deer. These are
thrown upon the ground, and in :1 tries hacked
to pieces and placed over the fires to cook.

But there are other objects that attract our
attention far more than these. In the midst of
a group of savages, a small distance apart from
the rest. my eyes fell upon the figures of two fe-
males, the object of our expedition. Lynx-cap
saw them as soon as I did. -

“ Waghl” he remarked in a low voice, “ the
boyees are still on the tree , thet’s surer’n shoot-
in’. They’d niver try to take the girls onless they
were sure 0’ success. By the livin’ Woodpecker,
to—night’ll be the time. Lookee yonder.”

The trapper inclined his head toward the east.
Looking in the direction indicated, I perceived
that the sky hadbecome overcast with dark. sul-
len clouds. At intervals. too, could be heard the
low, rumbling noise of distant thunder. Before
long it would storm fearfully.

 

Unmindful of this, the savages in the ravine
were seated round the huge fires they had kin-
dled, devouring their half—cooked meat like huii«
gry wolves. This served as a hint for us. Be-
turning to our place back from the edge of the
cliff, we made another hasty meal of the tasajo
we had brought with us.

It was now quite dark. The sky had become
totally obscured by thick, black clouds, from
which fell a cold, drizzling rain. The fires in the
ravine were still kept brightly burning b a few
of the savages who acted as sentinels. T e rest
had enveloped themselves in their blankets and
lain upon the ground, reposing themselves.
Near one, of the fires—the furthest one from the
position we occupied—were the captive girls.
I’oor things! They no doubt thought that all
ho es of escape were useless, for now they were
mi cs and miles away from the nearest settle-
ment, in the very heart of their foes.

An hour later, and we commenced the descent
of the cliff. This was a step no lessdifl‘icult than
dangerous, but aided in no small degree by the
glare of the fires below us, we were not long be-
fore we stood ouce more in the ravine. Trending
softly as cats, we debouched from the entrance
and cautiously entered the woods. ‘

We had scarcely done so, however, before we
observed a form flit by us in the darkness, not
three feet from the spot where we stood upon.
Lynx—cap no sooner perceived this,,.than he laid
aside his rifle, and made a quick dash toward it.
In an instant later he was upon the figure, forc-
ing it to the ground with one arm, while he kept
his other hand over the creature’s mouth. How
ever, before Lynx—cap had succeeded in his de-
sign of throwing the other to the ground he
suddenly relaxed his grip, at the same instant
exclaiming:

“ Bu’st my b’ilerl Ef I didn’t take you for an
Injin, old hoss! He! he! be! Ho! ho! ho!”

“ Ees, by the limpin’ gehosephat! I shed think
you did,” exclaimed a voice. “ How cum you
hyur, Lynx—cap?”

“ Come part 0’ the way by the river. Arrived
hyur airly this mornin‘. But whar’s the rest 0'
the boyees?”

“Not fur from hyur, I reckon; jest abouta
quarter 0’ a mile ahind us. I war sent out to
reconn’iter, an‘ war on my way when I was
tackled by you. Be you alone?"

“ No, thar’s a young feller as says he air an "

old friend 0’ Price’s as hes cum along with me.
But come, it ain’t 0’ any use to stan’ a-palaverin’
hyur; Let’s j’ine the boyees. Whewl How the
wind blows.”

“ But the reds?  they in the ravine?"
asked the voice. '

1 “ Sart’in,” replied Lynx-cap, “ an’ I’ll be boun’
that b this time they’re sleepin' sounder nor a
holler 0g.”

Signaling me to join them, I was not long in
doing so; and we pressed on for the rendezvous
of the rangers, with all possible speed. The
wind now blew a perfect hurricane, and the rain
poured down in a regular torrent. The flashing
of the lightning was fearfully vivid, and the
thunder, as it echoed and reechoed through the
forest, was appaling to listen to. ‘

The sound of a voice warned us that we had

. arrived at the rendezvous. We. halted. and the

/

w
‘.

 

 

14 . r Lynx-Cap.

next flash of lightning revealed to us the forms
of a score or more of men who surrounded us on
ever side. Our arrival was greeted with accla-
mations of pleasure.

“ Hallol Lynx-cap, boss. what the deuce
brought you hyur’i" exclaimed several voices.
“ Who’s him as is with on?"

“A friend 0’ mine. bar’s Bill Price? He
knows him.”

“Hyur he is!” exclaimed a voice Which I
instantly recognized as that of my old friend.
“ What do ye want Wi’ him?”

“ They wish to see if you will recognize me,”
sai'l I, turning toward the trapper.

“ Bu’st my b’iler if that ain’t Montgomery,”
exclaimed the old fellow, elbowing himself
through the crowd and warml graSping my
hand, which he wrung with suc pressure that
it caused me to wince.

“So you mans ed toescape, then?” said I,
alludin to the nig t on which we had last seen

, each at er.

“ Sart‘in we did. The reds as surrounded the
tree in which I War hidin’ kept us thur ontil We
got tired 0’ the game, so we jumped down among

am an’ fought our way through the crowd
’ithout either 0’ us gittin’ a scratch. Not flndin’
you I nat’rally conclooded thet you’d found
yourself back to St. Paul."

“And after all, Bill,” said I, “ you missed
your aim.”

“Missed my aim, oung feller? How?"

“ Why the chie , Feathered Arrow, still
lives.”

“ What !” exclaimed the trapper, bringing the
butt of his rifle heavily to the ground. “ ow
do ye know?”

“Because I and Lynx-cap saw him ourselves
the next morning. Did we not, Lynx-ca i"
continued I, referring to that individual. 0
replied in the affirmative, of course. Old Bill
uttered a fierce oath, but said nothing.

It was high time for us to decide upon what
should. be our next plan of action, since all were
decided upon makin an attemptto rescue the
captive that night. 6 were certain from what
we had seen of the conduct of the savages that
they did not suspect in the least that they were
followed, and this would be no small addition to
the chances in our favor.

However those were men quick to decide, and
in a remarlrably short time a plan was agreed
upon. It was this. We were to enter the ravine
in a body, and when in close proximit to the
foe two of the trappers were to stealt 'ly ap-
proach the captive girls, set them at liberty and
hurry them as quickly as possible back to the
main body. This was the most difficult part of
the plan. We knew that if we could only suc-
ceed in gettin the captives among us, we need
nut fear great y as to the results. Though the
savages outnumbered us four to one, yet with
our rifles and pistols, combined with the advan-
tages the ravine offered us, we would be equally
matched.

Lynx-cap and Bill Price, being the two
strongest and best skilled of the company in

' this kind of work, were the two deputed for the

undertaking.
All this bein agreed upon, we took up the
line of march or the ravine.

 

CHAPTER VIII.

THE BATTLE.

Dnsononmo from the forest we entered the
ravme. The storm still raged terriflcally, the
rain being hurled in our faces by the fierce
blast with a violence that nearly blinded us.

\‘Ve now stood not half a dozen rods from the
foe. Though the storm was now at its very‘
hight, the savages appeared to be wrapt in a
sound slumber. The fires, dampened by the
rain, were fast dying out. and it was only by
the lightning’s flash that the two trappers were
enabled to find their way toward the captives.
Crouching down among the bushes, we watched
them as they slowly advanced, with hearts beat-
ing with suspense and anxiety.

Of course, owmg to the difficulties with which
they had to contend, they could onlv make any
headway at all by summoning up all their skill
and cunning. At any instant they were likely
to stumble over the prostrate bodies of seine of
their enemies. Each held in his hand his
hatchet, so as to be prepared on the instant,
Should they be discovered.

At last the reached the spot occupied by the
prisoners. e saw them bend over them, and
when the next flash came we saw that each of
them married in his arms one of the objects of
their search. .

At that instant, though, one of the Sioux who
had been laced asa uard- over the prisoners,
awoke. he flash of ightning revealed to him
what had he had; with a wild yell he sprung
to his feet. he rest of the savages awoke on
the instant. The two trappers were now the
center of an infuriated crowd, and when the
next flash came it revealed them fighting their

.Way toward us with desperation. Each had re-

leased the girl he carried in his arms the mo:
ment before, knowing well that all hopes of
their escape then were lost. Poor fellow! It
would be wonderful if they themselves escaped.

Of course the savages were as yet unaware
that they had any more than two to contend
with, but they were soon apprised of the fact
by receiving a charge that Sent a dozen at
least of ' their number to their last account.
By this, the savages were somewhat confused,
and it enabled the two fugitive trappers to
get clear of the crowd and come bounding to-
ward us at the top of their speed.

We hastily reloaded our weapons, but dared
not use them then. The captives—we mi ht
shoot them instead of the savages. Still gui ed
by the friendly lightning we took up our posi—
tion behind several immense bowldcrs that lay
on either side of the clifi’, there to remain until
the fee should renew the fight, or morning
came. Though they had been unsuccessful, the
trappers had no idea of running away. They
were determined upon making another attem t,
even if it took them into the very heart of t 6
Indian village. Bafliedasthe were, most of the
men had become reckless wit passion. It was
only by great exertion on the part of Lynx-cap,
Price and one or two more of the mOSt reasonable
of the rangers, that they were dissuaded from

dashing in among the savages, and ending the’

affair by a hand-to-hand encounter. Our posi-
tion was any thing rather than an enviable one,

/

r

 

 

« a...“

Lynx-Cap. I l ‘ 15

 

The rain had drenched us to the skin, and we
stood cold and shivering.

As the hi ht slowly passed away, so did the
rain. Our oes, if yet in the ravine, were still
silent. Like us they were perhaps awaiting the
coming of day.

“Well, comrades,” said a voice, “ this kind
of business is any thing but to my liking, I
must confess; though I’m used to all kinds of
weather. I wonder if the red devxls are still
there. If we were only certain that they are
not, we could soon find a. more comfortable spot
than what this is. I was in this ravine once be-
fore. About half a mile from where we are
there is a cave that I know of, and if that could
only be reached we could kindlea fire and warm
ourselves.” a

The speaker, I learned from Lynx-cap, was a
young man named Basil Vancanson, a distant
relative of one of the captive girls. Vancanson
—with Whom I afterward became intimately
acquainted— was noted among the trappers and
frontiersmen for miles around Poictiers for his
heinga fine shot, and possessed of wonderful
strength of arms. Once in a combat with four
Indians, each of them considered amen the
picked warriors of their tribe, he had killed
them all, with no other weapons than what
Nature had furnished him with. B this ex-
ploit he earned among the red-men t e sobri—
quet of “Steel Fist.”

“ That’s what this child thinks 0’ the matter.”
said Price, in reply to the young man. “ Wagh!
it ain’t likely as they’ve left the ravine. I
shedn’t wonder ef they ve sent on to their village
fur reinforcements.”

“Right! hoss, right!” exclaimed several
voices. “ Depend on it, we’re in fur ascrim-
mage yit. Howsomdever, we’re in a good posi-
tion, an’ that’s one p’int in our favor.”

“Waghl” said another voice. “ supposin’ they
hev sent on fur reinforcements, as I heerd some
0’ ye remark jest now, it ain’t likely as they’ll
reach the village afore mornin’. If this child
ain’t mistaken wusser nor what he iver war
afore the Injun village air a. good forty mile
from hyer."

“ Wal, hoss what 0’ that?”

“ Why, we kin lick the red-skins as air hyur
afore the other niggers hev time to arrive, and
make tracks fur the settlement at onc’t.”

“ ’Ee cussed greenhorn!” exclaimed a. voice,
which I recognized as that of Lynx-ca , “ do ye
suppose they ll keep the gurls hyur? Ii)? , siree;
they’ll send ’em for’ard to tha’r village, by the
livin’ woodpeckerl”

This was true. Knowing well for what pur-
pose they were followed, the savaizes would dis-
patch their captives for their v1 legs at once,
witha strong guard. Doubtless at that mo-
ment they were far, far out on the prairie that
lay between us and the Indian village. Had we
been at the other end of the ravine, and pos-
sessed of fleet horses, we might still overtake
them. But, as it was, this was not to be thought
of.

But wearily as the night passed away, morn-
ing came at last, bright and clear. Along with
the first flash of the sun we cast our eyes down
the ravine in search of our foes. We were not
long in discovering them. Far away down lho

 

ravine, we saw them huddled together in a body,
no doubt deciding upon what should be their
next course. I

“ The hull o' the niggers ain’t thur,” said one
of the trappers. ,

“Wagh! no,” replied another. “It’s jest as
this child supposed. They’ve sent a grist o’ ’em
for'ard wi’ the captives.”

“By the livin’!— Lookee thurl" exclaimed
the voice of the trapper at my side, Lynx-cap.

“ Whar? What is it, hoss?” exclaimed sev-
eral voices. ‘

“Why,” was the excited reply, “jest squint
yonderways—” pointing down the ravme—
“ thar’s the two chiefsTFeathered Arrow and
Black Cloud 1"

Glancing down the ravine my eyes fell upon
two savages standing 9. little apart from the
rest, one of whom I knew instantly. It was the
Menomonee chief, Feathered Arrow. The other
I had never seen before. This was Black
Cloud, chief in general of all the Sioux living
in the then territory of Minnesota, and the
terror of all white settlers in that region for a

)eriod of upward of fifteen years. Taller by a
head at least than Feathered Arrow, the Sioux
chief looked what in reality he was, a giant.
His stature was fully seven feet, and his bed
was stout in proportion. His bow—of which
afterward obtained a nearer view—was nearly
as tall as himself, and so exceedingly powerful
that he was the on] one of his tribe who could
bend it. Of course know not these particulars
then. It was only in my subsequent experiences
that I learned them. For somewhat over an hour
the two chiefs remained in conversation with
each other, then joined the remainder of the sav-
ages. A slight consultation ensued, then followed
a general movement. A number of the Sioux be-
gan scaling the cliff on either side of the ravine,
the remainder holding their position until the
former had reached the summit.

They have reached the top. From that posi~
tion they can easily perceive us and count our
number. This is communicated to those below,
and a wild yell rings through the ravine. It is
the signal for the onset.

In a body, the savages slowly advance up the
ravine. In our position behind rocks and other

- laces, where we could defend ourselves to the

est advantage against the odds with which we
will have to contend, we resoluter await their
coming. We hurriedly guess their number—
over a hundred and twenty, The odds are great
—-for we number only twenty-three—certainly;
but, relying upon the immense superiority of our
firearms, we despair not the least.

Another chance yet there was in our favor,
suggested by Lynx-cap. The bows of our ene-
mies would be, for a time at least, useless. All
of us knew that the rain of last ni ht would so

relax the buckskin bow-strings of e savages as.

to make them perfectly unfit for use. In spite
of the rain, we had succeeded in—to use a well-
known expression—keeping our powder dry;
and that was an object of no smal importance
in ‘the chances of our victory. We knew that it
we could only succeed in holding the savages
back, we need not fear as to the results. It was
only if the struggle became a hand-to-hand one,
we thought, that the savages would gain the day.

 

 

16

Reasoning thus, we felt more at ease than
might be expected under the circumstances, and
turned once more to watch the foe.

They were not lon<r before they came within
range of our rifles. t had been previously ar-
ranged that we were to fire in latoons, and thus
have the advantage of a secon discharge, should
not the first volley stagger them.

“ Now boyees, ’ said Lynx-cap, raising and
cocking his rifle, “take good aim, an’ letthe
ni gers know as who’s hyur. Whoop!” -

he trapper brings his rifle to his shoulder
with a quick jerk, his example rapid! beingr
imitated by the rest. The almost simu toneous
report of more than a dozen rifles peels through
the ravine, and as man of the savages fall to
the earth. Hurrah! ot a man of us has
missed his mark.

But, successful as the volley had been, it was
not sufficient to check the iinpetuous rush of our
enemies. Onward they still pressed, with whoops
and yells rendered devilish by their fierceness,
still bent u on our destruction.

A secon volley, however, well delivered, did
stagger them. Laying'aside m rifle, I whipped
my two revolvers from my be t, and fired shot
after shot among them in such rapid succession,
that the Sioux began to fall back. While I was
occupied with this, my companions had reloaded
their rifles and we were once more ready for
another a vance, should the red-skins deem it
worth their while to make it.

But it was plainly evident that they (lid not.
They had retreated precipitater down the
ravine, and now occupied a quarter entirely be—
yond the range of our rifles. They had again
come together in a huddle, and we could see

a them gesticulating, and every now and then
pointing toward us.

For some time this performance lasted, then
the sava es became once more in motion.

, “ Wa ! They're goin’ to try some new
dodgy reckon!"

“ ight boyee. Lookee thur! By the livin’
catamount, they’re goin‘ to scale the cliff an’
fight us thnrl”

“Howl” asked a voice. “How can that be
did, I shed like to know, of thur bows can’t be
used?"

“ How?” said the first speaker. “ Wagh!
they’ll do it with rocks, I reckon, ef we don’t get

- thar as soon as they do.”

This was certainly true, as we all saw. Once
upon the cliffs ovor ourrheads, the savages would
be enabled to pour down upon us an avalanche
of stones, for there was of course nothing above

, our heads to protect us.
",Well, comrades,” said young Vancanson, “if
‘ the whole of the red-devils leave the ravine, it
will be a very bad move on their part, for noth-
ing will be more easy the): for us to rush down
. the ravine and take to the cave at the end of it.
Thus, you see, they would be easily out-
generaled.”
. “ Wa h!” remarked Lynx-ca , “ that ain’t
likely. o, siree, onlya few uvt e reds ’ll lea v.9
the ravine, I’ll bet, by the livin' Woodpecker.”

. It was as the trapper said; only a very few of
the savages-hardly a dozen—began to climb
the cliff. But small as the number was. it was
enough to enable/them to dislodge us from our

.I'

 

Lynx-Cap.

position, unless something was done to provent
them. A party of us could ascend the cliff, and
drive the enemy back, it is true, but this would
only weaken us too much. We knew well that
in our nnitv lay our strength.

“ lVagh!” said the trapper, Price, “ it appears
to this child thet ef the hull crowd 0‘ us could
onc’t reach the top, we could keep the red—skins
back easier nor fallin’ off a log.”

“Right, boss, right! Why in dogs an‘ cats
didn’t we think 0‘ thet afore?”

However, it was too late then to consider
what could have been done before, and we hur—
ricdly commenced to scramble up the cliff. This
bold and unexpected move on our part took the
Sioux by surprise, and this enabled us to reach
the summit of the clifl’ before they could recover
from it. Then another yell reached our ears, a
yell of rage caused by our having outmaneuver-
c'i them. Those of the savages who had been
dispatched upon the errand of pouring d0wn
rocks upon us attempted to regain the ravine,
but a few shots from our rifles stretch them out
forever.

Events began to wear a different aspect. It
was now our turn to become the assailants.
From our position we poured down volley after
volley at the savages far below us, until they
were fain to hide themselves Where our bullets
could no longer reach them. They did not at—
tempt to reach us by climbing the cliff. We
had weakened them too much for that. It was
plainly their intention to await the arrival of
reinforcements and night, when another at-
tempt on their part to destroy us would be
made.

Our eyes wander far over the prairie. to the
northwest. There they rest 11 on a. small speck
about half-way between us an the far—off lake.
An ordinary observer would have passed it by
without a second thought, but to the practiced
eyes of the trappers it were an aspect not to be
so easily disregarded.

Hours passed by, and the sun had touched the
horizon. What had seemed to be, on our first
beholdlng it, a mere speck, had now become de-
tziehed into uncountable numbers. They were
human beings. They were Indians.

As yet they were miles away. They would no
doubt reach the ravine by nightfall; at all
events not before it.

We could tell that the advancing foe was a
formidable one, and not one of us was there but
well knew that it was but madness on our part
to hope to successfully contend with them. A
few of the party proposed an immediate retreat,
but their proposnaion was overruled by the rest,
who, in spite of all that was said, were anxious
to try the fortunes of another battle. Among
these were Lynx-cap and Bill Price.

“No, siree,” said the former, “this child is
hvnr, he air, an’ don’t mean to budge a step, by
the livin’ wOodpecker! Besides, we kin fight ’em
hyur as well as in the woods. an’ of we lick ’em
we'll be all the nearer to thar village, whar
thnv’ve taken the prisoners to.”

This closed the subject. We were to stay.

The sun has disappeared, and darkness is
slowly throwing her vail around us. A wild
yell from the ravine reaches us. We look to
ascertain the cause. It is the coming too. They

' (

Lynx-Cap. 1 5’7

 

lmve reached the ravine, and come rapidly filing
into it. Our former antagonists soon join them,
and the air is again filled with triumphant ells.
'l‘hey evidently believe our doom is settle , for
we can see them menacing us with signs we well
l.l)UW the meaning 01'.

Until it becomes dark we watch their move-
ments and endeavor to count their number.
Lint this is impossible, for they are continually
<::1 the move, flitting about from place to place.

 

Thank Heaven! there will be moonlight. She
is just risin over the distant hills, round—
autiimnal. ith hci‘ light to help us, we will
stand a better chance.

As yet the foe has shown no intention of com—

mencin hostilities. We can see their dark
forms ar below us as they stride about. “’9
have collected in the meanwhilea huge pile of
rocks with which to continue the fight as soon as
our weapons are unloaded, for time will not be
given us to recharge them are the savages reach
the top of the cliff.
. The night advances. For a time the savages
in the ravine have been inactive, but now a
movement is observed among them. We see
them slightly separate from each other; then,
“1th loud whoops and yells, commence the as-
cent of the cliff. “To, on our side, are equally
on the alert. The time has come. The fearful
struggle will soon commence.

“ Wait, boyccs,” is the command from one of
tho trappers: ‘ let’s try an' keep ’em back with
the stones afore we use our shootin’-irons.”

His advice was no sooner given than acted
upon. Seizing rocks, we hurled them with all
our might upon the bare heads of our enemies.
This succeeded in slightly staying their pro—
gress, but the im )ctuous tide recovered and
came rolling on still.

We waited until the savages were near—until
they were not three feet from the muzzles of
our weapons—before we fired. Not one of us
missed his aim. and the foremost of the savages
rolled over backward against those behind them,
who still pushed forward. Those of us who
carried pistol: next used them ——the rest endeav-
ored to beat the savages back with their clubbed
rifles. But it was, useless. Louder than ever
sounded the yells as the savages advanced. The
next instant, and twenty of the demons have
reached the top. My com anions turn and flee,
heading down the steep hill on the opposite side
to the ravine. I was standing on the extreme
edge of the 0111!, and, as I turned tofollow them,
theearth ave way beneath me, and I was re-
oipitated eadlong down into the ravine. y
head struck against some hard substance in my
terrific descent, and my senses left me.

CHAPTER IX.
A PRISONER.

-How long I remained insensible I know not;
but it must have been for hours. The moon had
gone down, the stars disappeared and it was
nearly dawn.

I found myself lying at the bottom of the
ravine among the grass and weeds, wet with
the heavy dew that had fallen. My head felt
extremely sore, and seemed as if it was rendv
to burst with the intense pain. My left slw

 

 

(ler, too, felt sore. 1 had doubtless come in con-
tact with something else ere I reached the bot-
tom, after my senses left me.

I lay where I was until it was sufficiently light
to enable me to make out my surroundings.
The ravine was silent as the grave. My eyes
i ell upon the prostrate forms of the savages we
had slain, as they lay each beside a pool of
blood. Poor savages! there they lay, just as
they had fallen, a picture horrible to look u n
—especially to one in my position. I loo ed
about in order to see if I could discover the
bodies of any of my companions. I could see
none, and hope whispered in my ear that they
had escaped.

IVhere were the savages? I knew that, if not
then in the ravine, they would soon be likely to
return, in order to bury their dead companions.
It was time. then, that I set about finding some
spot in which I could hide until the savages left
the ravine for good. I remembered the words
Vancanson had said in reference to the cave;
and it, could I succeed in finding it, would an—
swer my purpose excellently. t was, he had
said, at the further end of the ravine. '

Without further delay I rose to my feet, and I

commenced following the ravine in its down—
ward course with hasty strides. When I had
arrived very near to its debouchure I halted,
and commenced a strict search after what might
hear any semblance to that for which I was in
search.

Shortly my eyes lighted upon two immense
rocks near the bottom of the cliff overhanging
the ravine, and as these looked suspicious I de—
termined to examine them. I approached them
and turning round the angle of one, I discover ,
an aperture wide enough to admit at least half
a dozen men abreast. Vancanson was correct.
Here, sure enough, was the cave of which he
had made mention.

Hurriedly glancing about me to see if there

were any savages yet about, I entered the
cavern. I had hardly done so, however, when a
sight met my eyes which brought me to a sad-
den stop. A few feet from me glistened a couple
of objects which I knew were eyes. Not dream.
ing that they belon red to some human, I drew

my hatchet and a vanccd a ste further. I.

jud ed that it was only some wi] animal who
mac e the cave its lair, and resolved to risk a
fight with it rather than be thrown upon the
tender mercies of the savage who would soon be
likely to pass by that way.

But, before I
started, and a voice said: ,

“ Waghl pale-face! Me Injun—hurt bad.
Pale-face medicine-maul” ‘

“Well, yes," I answered, and returning my
hatchet to my belt, “ I do make some pretensions
in that direction. Where are you hurt?"

I have said that I returned the weapon I held
to my belt. This, I afterward saw, was a piece

of folly on my rt. Had the savage been only
3 3 ‘

deceiving we must have been entirely in h
wer. But he was not. He had, I learned,
en one of thosa who had taken art in the

fray last night, and the result had een afrac-

ture of the thigh bone, caused by one of the

rocks hitting him and knocking him down the ' /,

had gone any further, the eyes ‘

H 

 

 

 

 

 

 

‘Cloud laid upon

18 Lynx-Cap. ,
/

He was my enemy—-—or had been; but my soul
abhorred the thought of slaying him in cold
blood, though nothm would have been easier.
No, I resolved to set is broken limb, and trust
to his honor in helping me to escape.

Approaching the savage, I commenced to ex-
amine the fracture. I was surprised at the im-
mensity of the man’s proportions—larger than
those of any other man I had ever looked upon.
A Wild thou ht rushed through my brain.
Owing to the im light, I could not make out the
savage’s features, but there was enough without
them to show me who the savage was. It was
Black Cloud, the Sioux chief—the implacable
enemy of the white man!

With the aid of my hunting—knife, I succeeded
in manufacturing two-pieces of stick into the
form of splints, and using a scarf I happened to
have with me—the parting gift of some loved
one—I succeeded, in spite of my painfulshoulder
in setting the fractured limb as well as I was
able to.

This ended, the Sioux stretched himself on the
cavern floor, and informed me that it was his
intention to go to sleep, and advising me to imi-
tate his example. Not wishing to offend the
savage in even the slightest degree, I obeyed
him. He uttered a grunt of satisfaction, and
for the first time I began to feel more at my ease.

I knew that, in spite of his helpless condition,
I was in the chief’s power. I knew thatI would
soon be his prisoner. I knew that the savages.
not flndino' the body of their leader among the
slain, wou d search every nook and corner of the
ravine before they had left it. Even if I were
now to quit the cave, I could not hope to escape
their hawk—like eyes; and then I might be made
to taste death upon the spot.

Agitated as my feelings were, fatigue sur-
mounted them, and I slept.

I was awoke by a whoop from my companion,
which was instantaneously answered by a score
of others outside the cave. It was the savages.
They had returned. I could hear the footfalls
of scores of feet, as each moment they ep—

3 preached nearer to’us. Rising to a Sitting

Epsture, I awaited what would next happen.
y anxiety was apparently not unnoticed by
the Sioux chief, for he said, in broken English:
“Let the pale-face medicine—man fear not.
Black Cloud is the enemy of the white man,
but he has gratitude.” ‘
A moment later the a rture of the cave

'became suddenly darkene by the presence of

a dozen Sioux, who rapidly entered, and the
next instant stood beside their wounded chief.
Suddenly, one of them perceived me, starting
back with an ejaculation of surprise. Observ-
ing this, Black Cloud spoke a few rapid sen~
tences in his native tongue, and the crowd of
warriors, after a grunt of satisfaction, became
uiet.

q Ha py me! My slight knowledge of surgical
skill had won me my life. Henceforth I was
to be the great medicine-man of their tribe!

A short consultation took place among the
savages, after which they prepared to leave the
cave, several of them carefully bearing the pen-
derous body of the chief. Outside the cave, a
rude litter was i(‘ikuickly constructed, and Black

, t. .

 

Just as the sun had touched the horizon we
debouched from the ravine, the party heading
for the northwest.

Our course lay over the level prairie. As
darkness settled over the universe, I could see
the gloom of fires f or, far in front of us. These
were the signal-fires at the Indian village, to
inform the absent warriors that all was well.

The party numbered fully two hundred, all
tall and stalwart braves. These, as we advanced,
each took his turn in bearing the litter contain-
ing the wounded chief; and, in spite of the dill?-
culty, we advanced rapidly onward.

As for me, I hardly-u to outward appearances-—
received any attention; but I did not fail to
perceive that, behind their seeming disinterest-
edness, the savages watched and were well
aware of my every movement. But, by sceni—
ing to be entirely reconciled to my situation, I
gave them no reasons to become suspicious to-
ward me. My limbs were entirely free from all
restraint, and I was still allowed to retain my
weapons—that is, all I then possessed. My rifle
I had either left upon the cliff, or else it had
fallen from my hands during my rapid tumble
on the previous night.

My thoughts reverted to my companions, the
trappers. What had been their fate? Had they
been massacred, or had they succeeded in reach-
ing the woods and escaping? Iwould have given
thousands to have learned, but it was impossible.
True, I might interrogate one of the Indians,
but it might cost me my life. Thus fear con-
quered curiosity, and I couldonly ease my mind
by wishing for the host.

Mile after mile was passed over. and at last
we approached the lake I had first looked upon
from the now far-distant cliff. It was now rap-
idly approaching daylight. The moon had gone
down, and from over the water came the glare
of the still brightly-burning fires marking the
situation of the Indian Village. 6 had but to
cross the water, and then we would be at our
jou rney’s end. '

From out the willows lining the margin of the

lake were produced several canoes. Still, these,

were not sufficient to enable the whole part to
cross at once, and it would have to be, there ore,
done by turns.

Black Cloud was taken from his litter and
carefully placed in one of the craft, which was
immediately put in motion for the opposite
shore. I was next ordered to step inside one of
the other canoes, which order I quickly obeyed.

At that point the lake was about seven-eighths
of a. mile in width, and it took but a few mo«
ments to reach the opposite shore.

Debnrking from the vessel, I followed my cap-
tors toward tho village, which lay not more than
twenty rods from the edge of the lake, just at
the verge of another forest. And now ensued a
scene of the wildest excitement. Early as Was
the hour, the whole village was astir. Women
and children, amid the barking and howling of
the detestable ours that are ever met with in an
Indian encampment, came forward with joyful
acclamations—came forth to welcome back those
of the warriors who had returned. But some—
ay, many-there were whose joyful tones be-
came transformed to one of grief on learning
that some relative had fallen a victim to the

 

Lynx-Cap. 1 9

\

 

fray. The news, too, that their chief had re-
turned wounded, spread like wildfire through
the villa e, and the spot became for a time a
perfect andemonium. As it is impossible for
me to depict the scene which followed, I will not
attempt it.

It was not long before I attracted a share of
their attention. A crowd of women and young
lads gathered round me, and began to use all the
means they could think of to torture me. One
would spit at me, another jerk my hair, while
the rest stood still, showering down curses in-
numerable upon me. I bore this for nearly
half an hour, and then my hitherto restrained
patience gave way. I could endure the ter-
ments the were inflicting upon me no longer.
I resolve to defend myself, cost what it
might. Knowing, too, that a love of bravery
is characteristic of the American savage——
whether they practice it or not—I felt that I

would be respected none the less for sticking up

for my rights.

An opportunity soon arrived.

One of the Indian boys endeavored to grasp
my hair but before he could succeed, I doubled
up my st and hit him a blow square in the
face. Another and another I served in a like
manner. The DONE. and confusion occasioned
by this proceedin attracted the attention of a
young warrior w o happened to be passing.
Pushing into the midst of the crowd, he ad—
dressed them in an angry tone, and it soon began
to disperse. ,,

Then, motioning for me to follow him, the
young warrior led me to a Wigwam, which he
informed me belonged to him, and bade me
tutor. I did so, glad enough to find myself un~
der shelter once more, and to close my eyes on
the scene being enacted on the outside.

The warrior, producing a mat made from
twisted rushes, laid it down for me to rest upon,
did I feel so inclined; then, with a grunt of set—
isfaction, lay down himself beside me. In a few
moments, judging from his loud and regular
breathing, he was fast asleep.

As the day advanced the tumult outside be-
gan to diminish. Through the doorway of the
Wigwam I could perceive the squaws preparing
their morning meal. After this was done, the
squaw of the warrior whose hospitalityI was
sh‘iring brought us, in a birch-bark vessel, a
quantity of meat and boiled wild rice. After
awakening her lord and master, she left us to
ourselves.

During our meal, of which I artook heartil ,
I ventured to ut some ofl-han uestions to t e
Indian regar ing the captives. CI learned, as I
had before supposed, that they were in the vil-
lage, and had been placed under the care of an
old warrior and his Squaw. whose special duty
it was to look after them. Finding my inform-
ant unusually communicative for one of his
species. I learned from him many other useful
facts, all of which I stored away, resolving at
some future time to profit by them.

CHAPTER X.
nnnmoxn momnrrn.
GROWING.weary of the Indian lodge, I deter-
nined to see what was taking lace on the out-
side. It was about the hour 0 sunset.

 

The village now presented a scene which con-
trasted strangely with that of the morning.
Most of the warriors Were seated at the entrance
of their respective lodges, engaged in smoking
their calumets, their squaws seated near them.
At one end of the village was a group of boys,
practicing with their bows and arrows.

The lodges numbered upward of two hundred '
therefore the village was a large one. One 0
the lodges, larger than any of the rest, and
decorated with strange, hieroeg hie-like char-
ters, was that of the chief, Blac Cloud. My
cye fell upon the savage himself. He was llying
stretched upon a mat at the doorway. ear
him was seated the Menomonee chief, Feathered
Arrow.

This man, from what I had seen and heard of
him had now an appearance that fairly made
me loathe him. That he was a villain in ev
sense of the word I well knew. Had not his
conduct on the morning that he had been bitten
by the rattlesnake, and after Lynx-cap had saved

his life, proved it? And now—for some strange, .v

unaccountable reason—I detested him worse
than ever. I asked myself the reason without
being able to answer it. Not that he had offend-
ed me in any way, for, during the journey over

the plain, on the contrary he had treated me‘i“

with as much, if not more, kindness than he had
done the rest.

The direction I took lay toward the lake, now
glittering like burnished gold beneath the rays
of the setting sun. Arrived at its margin, my
eyes fell upon a group of young girls a short
distance from me, most of them engaged in some
species of light fancy—work peculiar to the
young females of the aborigines. Some were
twisting mats of rushes— others decoratin mo<><
casins with beads and stained quills of the edge—

ho . -

Ihe features of some of the females differed
greatlyl'rom those of the rest. Upon‘the physi-
ognomy of most of them were stamped the ex-
pression denoting its owner to be a descendant
of the real denizen of the wildernESs. With
those of the remainder it was different. The
hair, slightly incliucd to curl, with higher fore-
head and face of more oval form, denoted them
to belong to another race than that of the abor-
iginal American. Yes, in spite of the dark hue
of their skins, tanned by the fierce rays of the
summer Sun and the cold blasts of winter, these
were the offspring of the Anglo-Saxon race.
From whence came they? From the frontier—
borne by the ruthless savage to the wilderness
when but infants!

But they, poor creatures, knew it not. Long
ago had they forgotten all—mother, father,
everything connected with their earliest home.

But my eye rested not long upon these.

Reclining upon \the greensward, slightly a It
from their dark-skinned sisters, weretwo ob acts
of a fairer hue. A glance told me that they
were the two captives—the innocent cause of
myself being in a similar situation.

One, the elder, could not have been past nine-
teen years of age, with hair of a beautiful chest-
nut shade, finely—cut features, and an exceeding-
ly fine outline. Without a single exception she
was the most beautiful one I had ever gazed

. upon. As my eye tell upon her, how that she

. angina“  1.: sitar-v: 

. mam-fl.

i

 

 

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'7
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e

20 Lynx-Cap.

 

was gazing directly at me, andI quickly glanced
l. in another direction. Her look had sent my
blood rushing like fire through my veins in an
l‘. » ~ instant.
i The other—her companion—was perhaps two
‘ years her junior, with dark, curly hair, dark
‘3 . complexion, ani eyes black as night. That
she was beautiful in every sense of the word
is true—but hers was a type of beauty, which
however pleasing it might be to the e. es of
other men, was less pleasing to me than t t of
, her companion.

Instantly recovering myself, I was about to
press forward and whisper words of encourage—
ment and hope into their ears, when I happened
to glance toward the village. I dare not go; I
was watched, and such a proceeding on my
part might be only the worse for all of us.

As I looked toward the lodge of the Sioux
chief, my glance again lighted upon Feathered
Arrow. But the chief was not now in the posi-
tion he was a. short time before. He had risen
to his feet and was comin toward the lake with
slow, measured strides. is dress was as neat

_ as ever, and his face had that day receiveda
new coat of paint. As he stepped, he bore him-
self straight as a reed. Much as I detested him,
Pcould not but admire his fine appearance. On
he came, until quite near me; then, suddenly
turning. approached the roup of young girls.
But ha lingered not there, ut passed on until he
stood before the two captives.

He addressed them, but in too uiet a tone for
rm to overhear him. The girls id not answer
him, but, rising to their feet, returned with all

/ possible haste to the village. Before they did

so, however. the eldest of the girls gave me a

hurried look. Quick as it was given, I realized
its meaning, which was, “ I would speak with
you, if only for an instant.”

, I watched them until they had disappeared

within the lodge to which they had been migh—
ed,‘ then turned to see if I could discover what
effect their actions had upon the Menomonee,

He was standing perfecth still, gazing upon the

spot where the girls had stood with an expres-
swn hard to describe. It was one of combined
chagrin and jealousy.

Alas! poor captives! How, to the very depths
of m heart did. I pity them. 1 had reason to,
God nowsi Here they were, alone in the very
lair of the fierce Sioux, miles upon miles from
home and kindred, without, perhaps, a solitary
thought that bade them hope fora deliverance
from their bondage. What—and I shuddered as
I thought of it——-would be their fate? Perhaps
r they would be made the unwilling squaws of
some of the warriors—perhaps one of them that
of him not far from me at that very mome 1t,
Feathered Arrow. The very thought turned me
_ sick, and I was fain to return to my lodge.

Day after day came and passed; still they
brought with them no change in my condition.
I was still a prisoner, but a very privileged one.
.. I was now looked upon by the tribe, not as an

, enemy. but as some great medicine-man.
Black Cloud himself had said this, and his war-
riors believed their chief’s words to be true. I
531: into the good graces of the women by search-

g along 1: e lake shore for small, perforatvl
stones, which I caused to be strong and then

we. .51. 4:1; .4.

J )2 1y“: .

 or; .341; {as 2'22; A

   
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
  

\

 

presented them as charms—objects of no small
im ortance among the red-men.

was allowed to wander about when and
where I pleased on condition that I did not stray
more than a mile from the village, if without
company.

Much as I wished to escape, there was one ob-
'ect that prevented me from ever attempting it.

hat object was the watch I was keeping over
the welfare of the two captive girls. As yet,
they were strangers to me. I ad not, even,
yet spoken a sentence to either of them. I even
was ignorant of their names. True, bne of the
villagers at the fort, when I and Lynx-cap had
been informed of their capture, had mentioned
them to us, but what the names were I could
not recollect.

Hard as I had endeavored to speak to one of
them, I failed to succeed. The girls were too
closely guarded for that. I learned, to my hor—
ror, from the young warrior whose lodge I still
shared, and who, to all appearances, entertain-
ed a deep feeling of friendship for me, that the
eldest of the two captives had among the war-
riors two lovers, both deadly rivals toward each
other. One was Feathered Arrow, the other a
young Sioux brave, whose name, I learned, was
Wauk-ana. He was one of the most brave and
powerful warriors of his tribe, being, in fact, the
second chief of it.

This piece of information gave me agonies
afresh. To think she had become the contested
prize of a couple of brutal savages was dreadful
to dwell bpon. Alas! There were more than
that number that wished her for his. ,There was
another—a third party. That one was myself!

Ay even the first time I had ever looked upon
her, I had felt a. feeling arise within me that I
knew not of before. Call it love if you will. At
any rate, it was the first time in my life that I
had felt toward woman as I did toward her—-
one of the most beautiful of her kind. Da
after day it had strengthened within me, until
it had grown into a passion that burned my
brain with its intensity. Oh! but to have
spoken a single sentence to her I would have
given everything.

One evening, shortly before dusk, the young
girl left her lodge, and strayed a short distance
into the forest. Thanks to fortune! the op or-
tunity for which I had been waiting so long ad
now arrived. That day most of the warriors,
Feathered Arrow included, had started out on a
hunting excursion, and would not return for
some days. The young chief, Wau—kana, ton,
was absent, having been dispatched by Black
Cloud on an errand to some distant tribe. I
was not likely. then to be interrupted.

I watched the girl until she disappeared be-
neath the shadow of the forest, then followed
on after her. When next I perceived her, she
was seated on a fallen log overgrown with
moss, her eyes fixed steadily on some distant ob-
ject. The next instant I stood before her.

“Pardon my intrusion, miss,” I said, in as
calm a tone as I was able to command, ‘ but I
wish to speak a few words with you concerning
myself." ,

As [addressed her, I noticed a tinge of color
rise to her face, but she replied in 'a calm voice:

“ Sir, you are welcome. I have wished to

 

 

 

Lynx-Cup. 21

 

speak to you so often, but, ah! I dare—dare.

no .”

“That was precisely the case with me. But
now that we are not watched, we can feel quite
safe in doing so.”

There was no audible response, and I felt at
quite a loss what to say next.

“Sir,” she said, at length, “ have you any
hopes of ever escaping from this fearful life? As
for me, I have none. Days ago I resigned my-
self to my fate, be what it will. ’

“Yes,” I answered, “ I feel sure that the day
may yet come when we may be freed. I myself
have had several opportunities for attempting it,
but there was something that restrained me,
much as I earned for liberty.”

“And w at was that?” she asked, eagerly.

“ Shall I tell you?”

“ Yes, if you will.”

“ It was you."

“Me?” she exclaimed, a blush spreading to
her very temples. “ And why, sir, was I the
cause of your not attempting to escape?”

As she asked me the ucstion she looked di~
rectly into my face, as i she would read my
inmost soul.

“Because I wished to consider it in duty,
stranger as you are to me, to remain and watch
over you. Besides, something told me, and does
now. that all will yet be well. ’

“ Sir, how came you here? I do not recollect
having ever seen you before the evening suc-
ceeding your arrival here.”

“ Possibly not,”I answered, and concluded by
narrating in as brief a manner as possible the
events connected with my being taken prisoner.

“Ah, sir!" she said, as I finished, “it is I and
Jenny who are the cause, eh? Alas, I can never
regay you!"

enny, I presumed, was the name of her com-
panion.

“ Say not that,” I answered warmly—per-
ha 5 toomuch so. “ God knowsI regret it not.”

he looked surprised.

“And you think, then, that the ti'appers es-
caped?”

“ Yes, I have strong hears that they did.
then the Indians return I noticed that not
one of them possessed a fresh scalp, and that
was one good proof.”

“ True,” she answered. “At any rate, ybur
words have relieved my mind greatly. Hence-
ggis'iéhd Will despair no more, but hope for the

Loving the beautiful girl as I did, nothing
was more natural than for me to wish to learn
if her heart was still her own—if the strings of
love had never yet been touched.

I determined to put her to the roof at once. «

“I have often observed you,” said, “as you
were seated quiet] thinking, so very sad seemed
your thou hts. on were grieving, no doubt,
for your a nt lover.”

‘ “ Lover, sir!" she exclaimed, with a sad smile.
“ I know not what it is to have a lover, since I
never in my life had one. ”

The tone in which this was said was so inno-
cent tlfat I believed her. My heart bounded with
delight, and I could have made the forest ring
wit shouts of joy.

 

“ That is singular,” I said. “ Most girls of
your age have.”

“ Indeed! I never liked any of the Dung men
in our village, they are so different rom some
that I have lead and heard of.”

“Your arents are alive, I suppose!”

“ No. other died when I was young, and my
father over three years since. I llVPd after that
with my uncle. But, sir, it is growing dark
and I must return to the village, or they will be”
searching after me."

“ But,” said I, “as yet I am unacquainted
with your name. May I ask it?”

“ It is Hermione Monteith. And yours?”

“ Is Henry Montgomer ."

Without another wor , she slightly bowed,
and then disappeared like a flash in the direction
of the village. Soon afterward I returned my-
self. I now carrieda lighter heart than I had
done for weeks.

Hermione Montei'th. Her heart, then, was
free. As yet she knew not what it was to love.
She was but awaiting the summons of its god to
awaken her slumben'ng passion, then would be
upon whom it became fixed be happy—the pos-
sessor of a maiden lovel
Why could notI be he? Was it an impossi-
bility .

Perhaps not. I resolved to do all in my power
to win her, cost What it might. If I had been a
favorite with women before, why should I fail
to succeed now? __

CHAPTER XI.

rim BEAR-HUNT.

ONE day nearly a week followin my inter-

view with fiermi

came into the village with the news that he had

discovered the den of a huge bear. 3
This was enough for the ears of the idle war-

riors, and immediately a score or more of them

preparled themselves to start in pursuit of the

anima .

As great sport might be expected, I resolved . "

to accompany them. Anything that would help
to decrease the monotony of the life I led was
readily accepted.

A walk ofa mile brought us too point of
ground covered with fragments of rock and a
thick growth of wild blackberry bushes. The
savage who had discovered it drew aside one of
these bushes, and showed us a hole of irregular

shape in the earth, seeming to have been made I ,

by some lar e, burrowing animal.

Finding t at the animal who made the den his
haunt, and whose footsteps were to be plainly
distinguished near and around it did not show
any evidence of being aware of our pressure,
the Sioux commenced to throw rocks into the
orifice. Still, there were no signs of any quad-
ru (1 being within. .

t that instant the fierce growl of some ani-
mal to our rear caused the savafifs to turn their
attention from the den toward t a quarter from
whence the sound proceeded. Turning round
with the rest, my eyes fell upon a. huge, shaggy
animal not five rods from us—-a hear. The ani-
mal was seated ur. on its haunches, di‘iizfihélvligg two
rows of formidable-looking tusks, while
keeping up a chorus of fierce growls.

But this performance on the animal's part was

one Monteith, one o the Sioux '

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22 Lynx-Cap.

 

of but short duration. Searcer had the quick
orbs of the sava es fallen upon him. whena score
,of arrows were ischarged at it, causing the bear
to roll over on his side, pierced through and
through by the sharp, unerring missiles. Rally-
ing again, however, he staggered to his feet; but
the savages, rushing up, soon ended the unfor-
tunate animal with their hatchets.

With a few others, I was about to return to

“the village. thinking that the adventures for that

. day at least were all ended. We had just enter—
ed the forest, when a peculiar sound from a tree
near us brought the party to a sudden halt. The
next instant, before we had time to discover the
cause of the strange sound, a creature suddenly
sprung with the rapidity of lightning, from one
of the branches, landing directly upon the neck
and shoulders of one of the savages. I knew the
nature of the fearful-looking animal at a glance.
It was an American wildcat; and one of the
largest of its kind. It took the enraged animal
but a couple of seconds to tear up the flesh of the
savage with its terrible claws and disappear

. amon the trees.

Wit a yell of horror, the savages started back
and repared to defend themselves. But it was
too ate. The animal had already finished its
work and disappeared.

I now turned my attention to the unfortunate

. red-skin. Poor fellow! He would never need
our assistance more. He was dead—the fierce
cat had torn open his jugular vein, from which
blood was running in a stream.

, The scene now became more exciting than
ever. It was certainly any thing but the inten-
tions of the savages to let the animal escape; so
they set at once about the task of hunting it
down. This was an undertaking as all knew,
far more difficult and dangerous than that of de-
stroying the clumsy bear. Still, itlwas not the
first time that the savages had engaged in a like
undertaking; and, after burying the dead War-
rior, we set out upon the creature’s trail. The
following of this was easy enou h. The clots of
blood which had dropped from t e animal’s jaws
marked the course it had taken distinctly.

This continued until twenty or more rods had

i been assed over, then the trail became lost.
The Wildcat must have taken to a tree. Sepa-

' rating, we commenced to search among the

branches of every large tree in which the animal
would be the most likely to conceal itself.
Approaching nearly to the trunk of an im-
menserpine. I attempted to peer upward among
the foliage in order to discover if the object of
our, search might happen to be there. I was re-
warded by erceiving something crouched on
.one of the limbs very nearly at its extremity,
some fifteen feet. mm the ground. I felt certain
that it was the animal of our search, but, owing
to its crouching position. I was of course only
able to see but a very small portion of it. The
' creature. too,. saw me. It was glaring down
with round orbs that seemed to burn like coals.
[Fearing that the creature might pounce down
. upon me, like it had upon the Indian, I stepped
back, at the same time intimating to the sav-
a , who were at some distance from me, that
I thought I perceived the wildcat. Had I been

dispatch the animal myself. True, I still pose

guessed of a weapon, I would have endeavored

 

sessed my knife and revolvers, but my powder-
flask and bullet-pouch had been taken awa
from me by the wily Sioux, lost I might see t
to use them some time to their disadvantage.

However, scarcely had the news reached the
cars of the savages than they rushed toward the
tree I pointed out, their quick eyes alighting
upon the animal above them in a second. Half
a dozen or so drew their bows, while the re—
mainder Whipped out their tomahawks ready to
rficeive the animal, should it again pounce upon
t em,

The savages bent their bows and sent their ar-
rows whizzing into the creature’s very face.
Quickly following the discharge a horrible shriek
of agony reached our cars. Something dropped
from above with the rapidity of lightning. Some—
thing warm was dashed into my face. causing we
to shudder. I put up my hand to wipe it of. It
was blood! J ust as my eyes became clear, I saw
the now wounded wildcat—for I had not been
mistaken in my supposition—disappearing in tho
bushes. With shouts and yells the savagm were
following it.

As for me, I had no inclination to do so; and
I seated myself on the soft grass, intending to
remain there until the Sioux returned.

Before long. my attention became attracted by
some small animal running past, not more than
five or six yards from where I was seated. Out
of curiosity, I followed its movements with my
eyes. It bounded along until it reached a. cer—
tain spot, then quickl disappeared from sight.
Almost simultaneous y with its disappearance,
another animal precisely like the former, came
into sight. It took the same course as had done
the other one; and, when it arrived at the verv
spot Where the former had disappeared so sud-
denly, the singular exit from view was repeated.

Resolving to ascertain the cause of this singu-
lar scene, I rose to my feet, and approached the
spot already described. The cause was now ex—
plained at a glance. Before me was a gully
some ten feet in depth, along the bottom of
which was running a small stream, overgrown
with grass and weeds. Stretching across the
gully was the immense trunk of a fallen tree,
which had been blown over, probabl , by some
wind-storm. By walking out upon his, I was
enabled to see the bottom of the gully with case.
It was a beautiful spot. Perha ‘ I was the first
of my race who had ever go upon it. The
flowers growing there amon the grass were
many, and of every form and no. The brook,
as it bubbled among the rocks might have been
likened to the music of some weird elfin. It was
near sunset, and the rich sky of the Indian sum-
mer—1t was now the month of October—gave a
charm to the spot that made me loth to leave it.
I listened to hear the voices of the Indiansybut
could hear nothing. No doubt by this time they
were far away, still following after the wounded
wildcat. This caused an indescribable desire on
my part to immediately increase still more the
distance between us—to once more taste the joys
of freedom. If I could but succeed in aining
the open prairie. I mi ht succeed in finding my
way to more civilized aunts.

ermione Monteithl What would become of
her? With the aid of money I might succeed in
raising a band sufflcwntly strong to penetrate

/

 

 

 

2
3‘
s
i .

 

Lynx-Cap. v 2 3

 

into the Indian country, and then release the,

captives. I would do this, even if it took years
to accomplish it. But I must not linger. Every
moment that I delayed was more dangerous.

Withdrawing my eyes from the depths of the
gully, where they had been rusting during the
time these thoughts had been passing within me,
I was about to rccross the trunk of the tree,
when a sight met my eye that caused me to
quickly halt. Heavens! thero at the end of the
log, was the fierce animal which the savages
were pursuing. But, no! It could not ‘ be the
same one. This was not wounded a particle, as
I could tell by the easy play of its muscles: and
the former animal had been severely wounded in
more places than one. This one, no doubt, was
its companion. ,

Feeling anything but pleased that things had
assumed such an appearance, I resolved to retire
from the scene as easily and quickly as possible.
By walkixw backward and keeping an eye on
the animal s movements, I might reach the other
side of the gully. I had scarcely made a move-
ment in that direction, however, when the huge
cat began to follow me out on the log. I stop‘
ped; and the creature did so as well. This serv-
ed to alarm me still more. Had I been armed
with a rifle, or even a pistol, I would have cared
but little. True, my revolvers were still in my
belt, but of no more use than if they had been
miles away. To have been ut in possession of
a. charge or two of powder, would have given
its weight in gold. -

IVhat was I to do? There seemed to be but
two alternatives—either to boldly walk forward
and face the animal, or else to drop down into
the gully. I determined to take the latter
course, as, should the animal see fit to follow
me, I should then stand a better chance of de-
fending myself than what I would upon the
l

o .

in that instant, with a fierce growl, the cat
sprung forward, and before I had time to carry
outm project, it was upon me. The creature
lande upon my arm, ripping open my buckskin
sleeve With its formidable claws ina trice. With
my knife, Iinflictedastab or two full in the
creature’s face, causing it, to my joy,'.to drop oil?
and fall backward into the depths of the gully.

I drew a breath of relief, and looked down—
ward. My late antagonist, wounded and bleed-
ing, had risen to its feet, and was attempting to
leap upward. But this was impossible. Its
loss of blood told heavily upon it, and after a
few more attempts, it relinquished its efforts. I
would have left the spot at once, buta sound
reached my ears which caused me to turn my
attention once more toward the gully, for the
noise proceeded from thence. The cat, too. heard
the sound, for it was standing with ruffled hair,
and tail lashing slowly from side to side. What
could it mean? Ha! That is soon explained.
Gliding among the grass is a. huge snake, with
forked tongue and gleaming eyes. It is the
deadly rattlesnake. The gully is its den, and
the wounded cat has disturbed him.

Suddenly the snake stops and coils himself up,
his forked tongue shootng out again and again
with lightning rapidity. It was about to
strike. The cat, too, was not three feet from
its enemy, crouched and ready. The next in-

 

stant the two met. The struggle that ensued
was short, but terrible. The cat succeeded in
tearing its antagonist in pieces, but not until
the serpent had pierced the animal’s flesh with
its deadly fangs. The subtle poison was not
long in accomplishing its Work. Just as the sun
sunk below the horizon, and I heard the shouts
of the returning savages, the wildcat reeled
over, dead.

Of course it was now too late to think of es—
caping them; so I returned with my captors
once more to the Indian villagfi.

Thus ended our bear-hunt. ut, before bring-
ing this chapter to a close. I will add that, after
tracking the wounded wildcat for nearly four
miles, the savages succeeded in dispatching it.

CHAPTER XII.
LYNX-CAP AGAIN APPEARS UPON THE SCENE. -

 

IT was autumn. ’ ‘

The leaves of the forest trees were falling
brown and withered to the earth. The lake
was filled with flocks of the wild-duck, and the
wild- goose had begun to wing his way scuth—
ward. I had now been a prisoner many weeks,
and only one who has been in a similar situa-,
tion to mine can linow how I longed to quit for-
ever that wild spot, shut out from every trace
of civilized life.

A change, too, was apparent in the manner
of the savages. During all the summer they
had been idle, only hunting when necessity com-
pelled them. Now they began to make long ex-
cursions into the forest, returning loaded with
game. This was cut into fragments and then
strung on lines and allowed to become half-
baked by the heat of the sun. I paid but little
attention to this at the time, attributin i to
the fact that as the fall advanced game me
more plentiful.

No, my thoughts were turned in another di~
rection. Almost every evening at sundown, I
would wander down to the edge of the lake, and
gaze across the prairie until it rested upon the

ar—distant cliff—the scene of our defeat. How °

my soul yearned to be once more there! One
afternoon chance caused me to stray a short
distance into the wood—a half mile or so from
the village.

I was walking
upon my usual subJect of thought—that of en-
deavoriug to form a plan for m esca when ,
a “‘Sh! ’shl ’sh! young feller,’ coming
the branches of a tree at a short distance from
me, caused me to halt. What could it mean?

‘ Hullo young feller, jest step this way. an’
keep, without wishing to refer to any allusions,
coo . ‘

The voice I knew, now. It was that of the
trapper, Lynx-cap! I could hardly realize the
fact; but nevertheless approached the trunk of
theatres from which the sound seemed to pro-
cee .

“ Come u h , young teller," said the
voice. “YoId’ll {Ludoggoned glad to see this
coon ag’in of he ain’t mistaken. But keep quiet,
I say ag’in, as some 0’ the red varmints may
be roun' a—watchin’ yer.”

After glancing around in order to see that“ ‘

no one was watching me, I commenced to
scramble up the tree’s trunk. Before long, I

 

quietly along, my mind still . f,

from ',

u ~me-rtc

v

 

22.;

: an... »

 

 

: Marge;

13“W'Vi’. Jew—w “r-x

 in

24 Lynx-Cap.

 

had reached the limb Occupied by the owner of
the voice. Sure enough, it was the trapper,
Lynx-cap.

“Wal, young teller," he said, smiling and
warme grasping my hand, “ye didn’t expect
to iver si hi; this coon ug‘in, eh?"

“Hard y,” I answered. “Not hearing any
thing from you for so long, I concluded that
the savages had succeeded in scalping you all.
But tell me, Lynx-cap, where is Bill Price?
Did he. too, escape?”

“In course he did! Wagh! young feller, I
see’d yer as yer tumbled over the cliff, but afore
I ked grab a-hold 0‘ yer, ye wur too far down,
and the red-skins wnrn’t but a few feet off.
When 1 turned round the bovee'; war runnin‘

’ like mad fur the wtods, an’ as this child warn’t
just in the humor to hev his ha’r raised jest
then, he mizzled arter ’em, he did.

“ Howsomdever, we warn’t long afore we
reached the woods, un' artn' a leetle dodgin’, we
give the reds the slip.”

“ And what brought you here? Did you come
alone?" were the questions I put to the trapper

in rapid succession.

“ a1, no; not adzactly. Thar’s aleetle army
over the 1perairor, a-hidin’ thar ontil this child
git-s back.

“ An army, you say?"

“ Wal, ees. Leastwa s, thar‘s nigh a hundred
0" us, an’ woe be onto t e savage as happens to
put his phiz into thet ’ar ravine, by the livin’
wood kerl”

“ ow long have you been here, Lynx—

cap?"
2 .‘Wal, it or nigh four days, as near as I kin

reckon. I've been waitin‘ hyur in hopes 0’ gittin’
a chance to s cal: to yer when yer war alone.
The boyees i wonder what’s a—keepin’ me, I
reckon. But ’ithout alludin’ to an insinua-
tions, how or the gals—the captives, mean?"

“ In an excellent condition, I should judge
/from their looks, and taking into consideration
’ their suflerings at being compelled to lead such

a tearful life. But. thank Heaven! from what
you have said, Lynx-cup, I have strong hopes
that the hour of their deliverance, as well as my
own. is near at banal!”

“Sart’in as scripter, young feller,” answered
the trapper; “providin’ things work right. But
we had better arrange matters at onc’t, an’ then
of we’ve any time arterward, we kin palaver.
Wal, as this chill said afore, thar’s nigh a hun-
dred 0‘ us a~hidin‘ in the ravine whar we her] the
light. Now. young feller. it ar’ not this child‘s
mtenshun to bring the hull hit over the perail‘er
to take the captives, as that w’u’d only serve to
sp'lle the 'ob- Thirty 0’ us kin do the bus’ness

" ' jest as we 1, an’ easier nor fallin’ 0!? a log. Be-

sides thet, I hev heard thet the red-skins, most 0’
’em. leastways, is a-goin’ upon a great buffler-
i hunt north’ards. Now—3’

“ Yes,” interrupted I. “ for the last week they
have been busily engaged in repairing their
bows and arrows. Your information now proves
the reason, no doubt.”

“Jess so. Wal, as soon as the red-skins miz-
zle, you must let us know, young feller, an‘ we’ll
come over the perairer in a squ’l’s jump.”

" You say that I must let you know. How
can that be done?”

 

“’YVaghi young feller, easier nor rollin‘ ofl.’ a

lo .

he trapper then proceeded to inform me how
the knowledge of the departure of the savages
from the village was to be conveyed to those
on the lookout upon the cliff. It was substan—
tially as follows:

The very night succeedintr the departure of
the Sioux, I was to stealthi y make my way to
the margin of the lake with a pine-wood torch.
After lighting this, I was to wave it to and fro
several times above my head. This wastobe
continued until the truppers on the chflf per—
ceived and answered it in a similar manner.
This would be the signal for their coming.

By the time that all of these matters were ar—
ranged, it was past sundown. I knew that it
was high time for me to return to the village, or
I might be missed, and a search made in order
to find out whether or no I was within boundary
lines. As soon, too, as darkness should arrive,
the trapper would start for the ravine.

So, after a cordial farewell for the time being,
I slid down the tree and wended my way to the
village.

Arrived there, I found a council of the Sioux
in progression. A huge fire had been kindled in
the center of the space occupied by the village,
around which almost every brave in the tribe
was gathered.

Not caring to witness this scene any longer
than necessary, I entered my lodge and threw
myself down upon my bed—a single bearskin.
Of course my thoughts turned u on the events
of that afternoon—the meeting of ynx—ca ,and
the words of comfort and cheer his roug , yet
kindly tongue had imparted. I thought, too, of
Hermione. Should I inform her, on the mor-
row, of the knowledge and hopes of which 1 was
possessed? No, it would be better not to do so.
Some unseen circumstance might take place
which would dash my hopes and expectations to
the ground. Dear Hermione! Even now, though
thou art not near me, I can see thy image as
plain as if thou wert at my sidcl Day after day
do I lono' more and more to c asp thy form to
mine and call thee my own. But, oh, God! oh,
God! it may never be! The hand of fate may
be lifted against us. The white men may be
again repulsed. The ruthless savage may tri—
“WWII. in spite of all. i

ith these thoughts torturing my brain, I
rushed forth from the Wigwam into the open
air. A cool wind served to cool my heated
head. The moon was at its full, and sweeping
upward toward its zenith. ,

The council of the savages had ended, and
they were, most of them at rest.

Not feeling in the inclination for returning
to my couch just then, I wandered down to the
lake, and seated myself behind a copse of wil-
lows. Before 10112,. my ears caught the soft
tread of m xrcasins. I looked round, and, to
my surprise, saw the tall form of a savage stand-
ing near me. The clear light of the full moon
enabled me to make out his features instantly.
It was Feathered Arrow! '

He saw that I perceived him, for he was gaz-
ing directly at me.

“ Pale-face,” he said, addressing me, “the
Menomonee warrior would speak with you,”

 

 

. A, ‘Lfiwiii‘

 

Lynx-Cap. _

2'5

 

“Speak on, chief,” I said, rising to my feet,
“ my ears are open'”

“ Listen, then. Some moons since, a being
came to live among the red~mcn whose steps are
as light as those of the timid deer, and whose
eves sparkle like the dew upon the flowers.
Her voice is low, and sounds like the voice of
Minuehaha from afar oif. Paleface, do you
hear my words?”

“ I do.”

“ It is well. Know, then, that for many
moons the Menomonee chief has not returned to
his people. The winds tell him the await their
chief’s coming with impatience. e would re-
turn, but—”

The savage paused.

“ I am listenin ,” I said; “ speak on."

“I love the w itc maiden. I would take her
with me to my lodge.”

Heavens and earth! The Words of the, devil—
ish savage made me wild. I Could have stretch-
ed him at my feet with pleasure.

But, xnaddcned us I felt, I cuhned my temper,
and said in a mild tone:

“ 'Well, does the Mcnomonee chief think that
his love is returned—that the pale-faced maiden
loves him '5”

“ No. The maiden loves him not.”

He said this with a hiss such as only an Indian
can cive.

"Well," I said; “why tell you this to me—
your enemy.”

“ Would the pale-face return once more to his
brothers and sistersé" was the answer.

“ Such is my desire,” I answered, boldly, for l
portly guessed at what the chief was aiming.

“ Then listen, pale-face! You are a great
medicine man, and can read the maiden’s heart.
I would have you give me a charm with which
I could turn her heart. If the pale—faced
sorcerer can do that, the chief promises him his
freedom.”

“ Chief,” I said, as he finished. my passion now
overcoming me; “'I despise both you and your
offer. Think you that the white maiden could
ever love such a vile wretch as you 9”

“ Dog of a pale-face! Dog, I say," hissed the
savage, “beware!”

And without another word the Indian turned
quickly upon his heel, and soon became lost
among the shadows of the lodges.

CHAPTER XIII.
THE SIGNAL.
BUT the events of the day were not yet ended.
The angry savage had scarcely disappeared
from sight, ere another actor appeared upon
the scene. To my surprise, it was the subJect
of the late conversation between myself and

Feathered Arrow—Hermione Monteith. She
had been stationed behind a clum of hazels
not far distant, and could not but ve heard

every word.

Approaching until she stood near me, she
said:

“Mr. Montgomery, I would have a few
words of conversation with you. Oh! sir, I
overheard the conversation between you and
that fearful Indian—he whom I fear above all
others. Oh! sir, is there no way in which I.
can escape the terrible doom which, 11'.

ms ..
5-. .

 

will fall upon us unless I depart from here
soon?”

“Yes,” I answered, in a cheerful tone, “I
have strong hopes that before long you will
he miles from here.”

“Oh! sir. your words cheer me beyond ex-
)l‘ession. But God rant that your hopes may

e realized. for it Wlll be impossible to endure

this state of things much longer. No,” and her
voice fell to almost a whisper, “ I am resolved
that I shall soon, unless I be freed, make one
bold stroke for liberty, and if I fail, this shall
end my sorrows forever!”

As she ended the sentence, she placed her
hand in her bosom and pulled forth something
bright ‘and glittering. It was the polished
blade of a small stiletto!

“But, miss,” I said, “that would only be an
act of madness."

“And what of it?” she asked, in a quick
tone. “With but one exception, there would
be none to grieve for inc—none!” '

I saw that her feelings were driving her on to '

madness. Nevertheless, Icould not resist the
temptation of asking:

“And who, miss, may I ask, is that one ex—
ce tion?”

‘ It is my poor, poor companion, Jenny.” ‘

“ Ila! Then I, it seems, am not your friend?”

I said this with all the bitterness it was pos-
sible to throw into my voice, for I felt the
words keenly. ,

“Pardon me!" she said. “I forgot myself.
Alas! I hardly know what I am saying. My
brain feels as though it were on fire.’

As the beautiful irl said this, she approached
still nearer, and laidzher bands upon my shoulder.
I now felt sorry that I had spoken the Words I
did so harshly.

“ Yes, Miss Monteith,” I said, in a soft tone, .

and taking one of her hands in mine, “I am
your friend. Nay, I feel a far stronger affection
for Em than that of mere friendship.”

“ ow can that be, sir?” she asked, in a calm
tone, and casting down her eyes.

“ How? It is because I love you."

As I spoke the words, I eagerly watched her
face in order to perceive what effect they had
upon her. Her hand was not withdrawn, and
1 f uncred I felt it slightly tremble. limagined,
too, that I could discern a blushsufinse her
cheeks: but owing to the uncertain light th
moon lent, I was not positive. -

“ Sir,” she said, as soon as she had recovered
herself sufficiently to answer, “your words,
though unexpected, are nevertheless welcome.
Know, then, that my heart is no longer mme.
It was given weeks ago.”

“ Indeed!”
meaning. "To whom?” .

“To whom? To whom else should it be but
you?” _

Impossible to describe the Wl_ld transports of
joy that filled my soul on hearing thesewords.

knew not what re fly to make. Catching her
in my arms, I drew .er form to mine and un-
printed kiss after kiss upon her hot cheeks.

We must have remained there upward of an I ‘

hour, for when we parted for the night the moon
hm] passed its zenith and was sweeping down-
ward to the horizon. ;

w’n‘: 1 - 4

exeluimcd I, not divining Her ‘

\c

.4

, .,.. ,_._ _l a. has- i .c. a. .

,4, .. -yaw “imam “damned..-” (..;>-.._..)..._.-...._. .... Tn..-

213 Lynx-Gap.

 

Hurrah! I had Won. Henceforth Hermione
Monteith would live only for me. I had truly
spoken when, after our first conversation, I had
said to myself:

“ Perhaps, if Heaven so wills it, she may love
me yet i"

The followinrr morning an unusual commo-
tion was to be 0 served among the Sioux.

All day they employed themselves in different
occupations which plainly proved that it was
their intention to leave the Villa 9 upon some
expedition or other. or course could not but
watch their actions with interest, for I was now
on thorns for their departure.

But there were some of the savang who did
not take part in the proceedings. hose were
mostly the older warriors of the tribe, for whom
a mere “ buffalo surround ” had lost the charm
it once bore. I watched in order to see if it was
likely that the chief, Black Cloud—who had now
fully recovered the use of his limb—would ac-
company the party. Apparently not. All day
long he was to be seen near his lodge, or else
lounging around the village. Wan-kana and
Feathered Arrow, however were to belong to
the party, the former chief being their leader.

As the afternoon waned, the savages were on
the move; and by sundown they had crossed the
lake and were headin over the prairie to the

' north. To my regret saw that the party num-

bered only about seventy, thus leaving no less
than fifty warriors to guard the village.

The sun slowly disappeared below the horizon,
and darkness once more set in.

That night I did not occupy the interior of the
Indian lodge. but, rolling myself in my bearskin
robe. lay down outside. As this was no unusual
occurrence with me, it wouli excite no suspicion.

Slowly the hours dragged by. To sleep was
an impossibility. I lay gazing upward at the
stars, and forming plans for the future. The
moon rose, and after finishing her course disap-
peared from view. It was now dark again.

he time for action had come.

Noiselessly gliding on my hands and knees, I

" reached the cover of the woods, and after a

somewhat zigzag courso. reached the lake.
Miles away, in a straight line, lay the cliff.

Durin the day I had taken care to prepare
the tore I was to use, and found it readily in
the spot where I had secreted it until the time
came for usin it.

With the ai of a flint and steel, the resinous
wood soon caught fire. With the rapidity of
thought. I held the flaming beacon aloft, and
waved it‘ to and fro above my head. Then it
was extinguished.

Soon an exclamation of atiflcation escaped
my lips, for I perceived the my signal had been

' seenand was being answered. Far, far away

over the prairie a gleam of light flashed high in
the air. then became extinct in an instant.
Thank Heaven! The trappers were still safe,
and to—mOrrow night would see them upon the
march.
CHAPTER XIV.
THE ATTACK or run TRAPPERS.
WITH the utmost precaution I succeeded in
making my way back to the village undiscovered.
By that time it was nearly morning. The first

 

gray streaks of light were visible on the eastern
horizon, heralding the approach of day.

The day came and passed, but seemed to fly on
leaden Wings. Never did time seem to drag on
so slowly as it did to me. With nothing to occupy
my attention I was restless beyond measure.

At last, however, night came once more, and
this served to somewhat abate my intense
anxiety. It had been agreed upon between me
and Lynx-cap that when night came oul was to
be sure to convey to the other side of the lake
several of the largest canoes belonging to the
Sioux, in order that the trappers might find a
ready means of crossing the lake. This, he had
said, was to be done at all hazards, for, if not,
they would be forced to make a detour of miles
before they could reach the village.

Accordinglyi as soon as it was dark enough for -

inly purpose, proceeded once more to the
a re.

At the mouth of a small creek running into
this were fit a dozen or more canoes, all large
and in go condition. Selecting from these
four, I fastened them together with a stout
piece of buckskin thong; then, jumping aboard
one of these, I paddled with all my energy fur
the opposite shore. Arrived there, it took but a
moment to detach three of the canoes, pull them
upon the shore, and start out in the remaining
one on my return.

I had now fulfilled my last contract with tho
trapper.

Of course, owing to the distance between the
ravine and the Indian village, it would be near—
ly morning before the trappers would arrive.
This would put a stop to the attack until the fol-
lowin night. During the day they were to con—
ceal t emsclves in the Woods in as near a prox—
imity to the village as was prudent.

It had been agreed upon, also, if it could be
done with any certainty of safety, that I was to
meet Lynx-cap that afternoon in the same spot
where our former meeting had been.

'With suspense beyond the power of expres-
sion, I awaited until the hour came. There
seemed to be no one about the village who ap~
peared to be observing me, so I at once set about
proceeding to the appointed spot.

It took but a few minutes to reach the tree,

and a still shorter time to climb up it. A glance '

upward and my heart bounded With delight.
Lynx-cap had arrived. He was seated astride a
huge limb not four feet above me. I had
scarcely glanced upon him, when my eyes fell
upon another object. To my surprise, and no
small joy. it was Bill Price!

The next moment we had shaken hands.

“ Wal, young teller,” said Bill, in his usual
cheer voice. “hvur we ar’, ye sees, surer’n
shootm’. Wagh! it ar’ a dog‘s age since this
child hes set his neepers on yo." ‘ I

“ So it is, Bill,” I answered. “ But where are
the rest?”

“ Not fur off, I reckon, a—hidin’ like muskrats
in winter. But, geehosephat! We hed alettle
scrimmage a-crossin’the perairer.. Didn’t we,
Lynx—can?”

“ Sart‘in.” was the response.

“ How was that?" I inquired.

“ Ohi We hedn’t quitted the ravine long
More we sighted a dozen or so 0’ Injins a-comin’

l

Wax.- ‘3‘}!

i
i

 

 

 

 

Lynx-Cap. 2 

 

like blue blazes toward us. They war mounted
on thar bosses, an’ the way they war a comiu’
war a caution to snakes. When first we sighted
’cin they war about two miles off; nn’ we war
not long, I reckon, afore we hed made up our
minds how to circumvent the varmiuts.

“ We spread out in somewhat the shape 0’ a
lialf- i‘own moon, an‘ the red-skins war in the
midd e 0’ us afore they knew it. Wagh! how
we peppered ’em. It wurn’t long, I reckon,
afore we hed sent the hull kit a-tumblin’ ofl’ tha’r
nags onto the raircr. The rods war soon re-
lieved 0’ tha’r a’r, au‘ as fur tha’r hosses, we
sent ’em adrift.”

“Waghl boyee,” said Lynxeap, “of ye had
a-been— But, ’sh! ’sh! By the livin’ Wood-
pecker—lookee tharl”

Looking in the direction indicated by the
trapper, we )erceived at no great distance from
the tree the iorms of three savages. They were
wending their way toward the village, and at
the very top of their speed.

“ By the Jumpin’ gechosephati” was the excla-
mation that escaped from the lips of Bill Price.
“We’re discovered surcr‘n shootin’l I kin tell
thet hv tha’r movements.”

“ tho?” said I, my heart leaping at his words.
“ Not us?” '

“No, not adzactly. But they’ve discovered
the boyecs. thet’s sart’in.”

“ What makes you think so, Bill?”

“What makes me think so? Because they’ve
just kum, for one thing, from the direction in
which the boyees war hidin’. Harkee! D0 ye
hear thet?”

As the trapper spoke, a wild yell arose from
the Indian village. The trapper was not mis-
taken. The savages had been rambling through
the woods, and had happened to stumble upon
the trail of the tra pers.

“ Wagh!” said ynx-cap, commencing to ex-
amine the conditiou of his rifle “ we’re in fur it
now, surer’n shootin’. 1t air a eetle sooner than
I expected to commence, but that don’t signify
the flapping o’ a beaver’s tail in flood-time.
Wul, young teller, whar’s yer shootin‘-irons?"

This was addressed to me, and served tore-
mind me ot‘the useless condition of my revolvers,
which 1 had had the good fortune to retain
through all. Borrowing some powder and a
few bullets from each of the trappers, I loaded
every one of the empty chambers as rapidly as
possible. Then, after placing caps upon the
nipples. the weapons were ready for action.

‘Wal, boyees,” said Lynx-cap, “this coon’s
goin’ to brin for’ard the hoyees. Ye two bed
better stay yur, an’ when the red-skins hev
passed, which they’ll be sure to do, make like
lightnin’ fur the village, an’ secure the captives.
Then make fur the canoes an’ take ’em acrost to
the other side 0’ the water.” _

These directions were given in a rapid tone;
and after the trapper had finished, he slid down

as rapidly as possible to the ground. We‘-

watched him disappear among the trees and
bushes. then turned our attention once more to-
ward the enemy. ’

As yet, nothing could be perceived of them.
but their wild and vengeful yells, as they echoed
and re-echoed through the forest, told us that
they would not be long inactive.

r.

- ,. .. ,m,  . -n .. .. , u.-. .......l...--....,... ...........i.... .._,_

 

For a uarter of an hour this continual; then
the soun s became suddenly hushed.

Almost the next moment a savage showed
himself not twenty yards from our position,
glidin along with the utmost caution and rapid—
1ty. his was the advance-guard. Soon after
he had disappeared~taking the direction that
Lynx~cap had done—he was followed by the
main band, nearly eighty in number. In the
midst of them was the chief, Black Cloud. I
was surprised to note the appearance he now
presented to what he had done that morning.

He was no longer the slouchy, easy-going war-
rior that he was in the moments of peace. He
was no longer the silent and observing one, but
the leader and quickestwvitted of his band. As
he glided E851. with step as light as the deer, he
showed w at he was, the well-trained and cun-
nin savage.

e waited long after the last one had disap-
peared, then descended from our position.

Ten minutes later we had arrived at the edge
of the clearing, and were gazing at the Indian
village. The warriors were all absent—the vil-
lage, save by the female portion of the inhabi-
tants was unprotected. ,

“blow, young feller,” said my companion,
rising from his knees, “ now’s the time."

Hurriedly debouchiug from our covering, we
made a rush for the center of the clearing. ‘

The frightened women and children perceive
us, and a ell of terror escapes them. . \

But I eed them not. The captives! My
thoughts are occupied with them.

Where can they be?

I rush into the Wigwam where the usual]
were to be found— he lodge of the o d coup 9

under whose care they had been placed. Save ,,
one living inmate-the old squaw—the lodge was ,

empt .
“ Where are they?” I ask, making signs to the
old hag

‘ She shakes her head, as if my words are not,

understood. With an impatient expression, I
rush outside.

Where can the girls be? Sure] they cannot ‘

have been murdered? Oh, the t ought was a
horrible one!

“ Are they thar?” asked the trapper.

I replied in the negative.

A few ards off were standing :1 group of. I

yoqu gir s. I made a rush for them.
“ here are they—the e—face captives?” I
fiercely demanded, and ru ely clutching one by
the shoulder whom I knew understood English
tolerany well.

The girl shook her head. I now became exas-
perate .

Whipping my knife from my belt, I flashed it
Eefil‘e her eyes. She became terrified, and hung

ac

I repeated my question. She dared not die
obey; and raising her arm, pointed toward the
WOO S.

Calling upon the trapper to follow after me,
I released my hold on the frightened irl,
and dashed away in the direction indjca by

er.

To my joy, I was not long in discovering the
objects of my search. They were standing near
a clump of hazel—bushes, not a dozen rods from

. "a... 4“..«.....c..ls‘.-_... - .

...l .0». w»... r» e-

 

1;},1

\

2g , Lynx-Cap.

 

the outskirts of the village, and each guarded by
half a dozen young lads.

So sudden was our appearance among them
that we had dashed half their number aside,
and seized upon the prisoners before the were
aware of our presence. But, young as t e sav-
ages were. they were not t ) be so easily balked.
One of them quickly placed an arrow in its
string, and sent the missile whizzing toward us.
It flew bg close to the trapper, just missing his
left chee .

This served to make him angry, and drawing
forth one of his pistols, he discharged it at one
of the yOung braves who had been endeavoring
to conceal himself behind a bush. The shot was
a fatal one to him at whom it had been aimed,
for he tumbled over on the grass, the bullet hav—
in pierced his naked breast.

This was sufficient. With a terrified yell,
the remainder disappeared from sight in a
twinklin , leaving us in quiet possession of the
two captives.

I had onl time to give my loved one a hurried
embrace; t so we commenced moving toward
the lake. It took us but a few moments to reach
it, and to hurriedly embark in one of the canoes.

Having no opposition to stay our movements,
we pushed the ight craft from the shore. A few
strokes of the paddle, and we were far out on

the water.
. , __._
CHAPTER XV.
THE RETREAT.
THE trap rs. Where were they?

They can d not have been far off, for the re-
ports of their rifles, mingled with the yells of
their antagonists, could be heard plainly as they
run through the woods.

“ agh!” remarked the trapper, “they’re a~
goin’ it, b the livin’ geehosephatl It ain’t ad-
zactly to t is child’s notion to be a-skulkln’ hyur,
when the boyees air so hard-pressed. No, s1ree.
As soon as we reach t’other side, this child’ll go
back an’ take a hand in it, he will."

We plied our paddles With all our energy, in
order to make the shore as uiekly as possible.

Ten minutes later, and t 9 how of the vessel
touched our landing spot.

After helping the two young girls ashore, the
trapper was again on the move, determined upon
arriving at the scene of action as soon as possi-
ble. 0]! course I was to keep guard over my be-
loved one and her companion. Gladly would I
have mingled in the fray, had it been prudent.
But it was not. To have left the young girls to
themselves, even though a wide expanse of water
lay between them and the enemy, would have
been absurd.

The fight still raged. Across the water the
yells of the opposing combatants sounded as dis-
tinct as ever. Would to God that it would end!

I kept my eyes continually noon the trapper
until he reached the opposite shore and disap-
peared among the trees beyond it. He had
scarcely done so, when a wild yell reached our

" eats —-louder than all the former ones—and im-
mediately a crowd of warriors rushed like mad-

man into the clearing. Here they halted: and
then we could see themv making quick gestures

 

to the crowd of terrified squaws. A moment later
and a. simultaneous rush was made for the canoes.

The frail crafts were soon filled to their utmost,
and then pushed off, each canoe being under the
guidance of a single warrior. ‘

Their intention soon became apparent. Heav-
ensl They were heading for the very spot on
which we stood, and, if not prevented, would
land there 1

Our situation now assumed an aspect that
caused us to once more fear for our safety. The
canoes were skimming over the smooth water
like an arrow, and the savages would be upon us
in a twinkling. I scarcely knew what to do.
The younghgirls were now terrified more than
ever. Bot clung to me with all their might,
imploring me to do all in my power in order to
prevent the savages from approaching. Poor
things! they had rounds sufficient for their
fears. They well {new what Would be their
fate, should they again fall into the hands of
theirfoes. They would now be shown no quarter,
but be butchered on the spot!

The thought seemed to give me fresh nerve,
and I looked about me to ascertain if there was
any spot which might afford us a place of refuge.
There was none.

The savages were now more than half across
the lake, and something, I knew, must be done
at once.

Calming the fears of my loved one and her
companion as much as was possible, I bade them
run out upon the open prairie, so as to be beyond
range of the Indians’ arrows. My command
was instantly obeyed.

By this time, the foremost of the canoes had
arrived within range of my weapons. Aimin
dii‘ectl at the savage who acted as oarsman,
presse the trigger. With a scream of agony,
the Indian’s paddle dropped from his hands, and
he fell over sideways into the water.

This was no sooner done than the motion of
the remainder of the canoes was stopped on the
instant. I saw the savages drop their paddles
and grasp their bows. A dozen arrows were
dischargjed at me, (but, by suddenly dropping to
the cart , the missiles hurtled by over me.

For the first time, I now noticed that at the
distance of not more than a dozen yards from
where 1 was at that moment, there was a kind
of embankment, a foot or more in hight. I was
not slow in percei‘ving that, if stationed behind
this, the bow: of the enemy would be useless.
Accordingly, I was not slow in availing myself
of its advantages.

By this maneuver another of the canoes be-
came within range, and I again—to use a trap-
per’s phrase—drew a bead upon the savage who
was guiding it. Like the former one, the bullet
sent the savage to his last account.

But my triumph was of short duration. The
next moment the remaining canoes became sep-
arated, the bows of each being turned in a dif-
ferent direction. Now. instead of landing at one
point, the savages would debark at a dozen dif—
ferent ones. I had not thought of this before.
and a look of chagrin at being thus outwitted
must have crossed my features.

Still there was another chance for escape yet,
Hal 1 now saw through it plainly.
fore the thOught had time to fairly shape it-

Ahnoat be- '

Have.“ an

 

 

 

 

 

a.

.5
b
'l

 

 

Lynx-Cap. V 29

 

self, I had turned to the girls—who were some
distance out upon the prairie—and beckoned
them to come to me with all possible speed.

Twenty rods or so from where I stood, one of
the canoes had approached the bank. The war-
rior who had charge of it had jumped ashore,
and, tomahawk in hand, was waiting for me.
hAs soon as I perceived him, I hastened to meet

1m.

On, on we sped, until not a dozen ards lay
between us. Raising his tomahawk, t e savage
hurled it toward me. The suddenness with
which it was thrown caused him to miss his
aim. The deadlIv1 weapon flew past me, burying
itself in the eart close to my rear, The Indian
then felt for his how, but before he had time to
fit an arrow to the string, another well aimed
shot caused him to fall heavil to the ground.

I waited not an instant, ut, dashing past
him, made for the canoe from which he had just
debarked. Seeing this, the female occupants of
it endeavored to push it off from the shore. But
they were too late. Seizing the bow, with a
desperate wrench I upset it, throwing the
shrieking squaws into the water. Then, up—
rightlng it again, and seizing the paddle, I
sprung aboard and pushed Off. Looking in the
direction of the young girls, I saw to my gratifi-
cation that they were waiting for me at the em—
ban kment of which I have made mention.

Quickly as this scene had transpired, enou h
time had elapsed to enable the remainder of t e
canoes to reach the shore. Half a dozen of the
savages had landed, and were coming toward us
at the top of their speed.

Calling upon the young1 girls to hasten for-
ward as fast as possible, addled with all the
energy I possessed toward t em.

Fate seemed for a time to be on our side, and
a few moments later saw us far beyond the
reach of our enemies’ missiles. "

They would no doubt have followed us, but at
that moment a loud shout in the direction of the
Indian village caused them to at once abandon
the idea.

Looking in that direction, I perceived that the
fight had been ended. The trappers Were stand-
ing together in a crowd, motioning for us to ap-
proach them.

To do this required but a few moments, and
we were received on shore with loud acclama—
tions from the band of trappers assembled
there. I.

They had been, unequal as they were in
numbers to their antagonists, victorious and
Were now consequently masters of the field.

But it would not do to tarry there long. We
knew that there were other tribes not far dis-
tant, who would be upon our trail as soon as the
news of our presence reached them. Accord-
ingly. preparations were at once made for leav-
ing the Indian village immediately.

The meat the Sioux had been drying for the
past few days now came into use. A large
quantity of it was soon collected and tied up in
skins. This was to be our food on the homeward
journey.

By this time it was past sundown. ,

Before the last ray disappeared behind the
horizon we had recrossed the lake, and were
heading for the far distant cliff. least a last

my

'forward with all the speed possible.

 

look toward the Indian village. It wassilant

and deserted. Long ago the last of its inhabi-

tants had fled to the woods.

It is needless to describe the joy I felt as I
watched it fade more and more from my sight
each moment. The' many fearful hours I had
passed there flashed before me with awful dis-
tinctuess, causing an involuntary shudder to seize

me.

With the last beam of the setting sun, the last
trace of the village disappeared forever! ‘

Hours have passed.

We are now miles out upon the level prairie,
still heading for the yet distant ravine. It is
moonlight, and our course is easil kept.

With my beloved one constant y at my side.
to me our progress seemed fast enough» But alas!
I fear that, to her, it was‘difl’erent. Poor thing!
I pitied her from the bottom of my heart—pitied
the young girls both. Fearing bein followed by
the Sioux, it was necessary that we ould hasten
I noticed
that the alacrity with which they had started out
was beginning to flag. With cheering words, i
strove to bear them up. But it was useless.
They said that it was impossible for them to pro-
ceed another step. ,

In vain did we point out to them that we were
now near the ravme—not more, said one of the

trappers. than seven miles distant. In vain did ~ »- '

we point out the likelihood of our enemies
already being upon our trail. Exhausted na-
ture could supply them with no more strength,
and we were forced to cometo a stand-still.

We remained upon the spot until morning,
notwithstanding that by so doing we hazarded
our lives. ' a

The first flash of the rising sun again found us
in motion. -

As the trapper had said, the ravine was not far
distant. Five miles passed Over, and but a few

rods lay between us and the débouchure of the\' I

ravine, where it looked out upon the prairie.

Hurrah! We were safe! We feared the savo
ages no longer. Enough of us there weretohave
held five hundred of them at bay, had it been
necessary.

On reaching the ravine, I ascended to the sum~
mit of one of the cliffs, and gazed outward over
the prairie, in order to ascertain if we were fol-
lowed. No. The wide expanse of prairie, f0
miles, lay unbroken. r

We recruited ourselves for several da sin the
friendly ravine, then once more we too in the

line of march for home, where we soon safe yar— '

rived.

Dear reader, but little more remains to be re- .
t .

la ed.

Of myself I shall add nothing more. I shall
speak only of one—the trap .r.

Years have passed since eevents narrated in
these pages took place, and consequently many
changes have occurred since then: . Some day,
perhaps, it may fall to your lot to VISIt Nebraska;

and you may also happen to stumble acrom a neat V

pioneer’s cabin, with a smiling woman inside and
one or two children playing merrily round the
door.
This, reader, is the home of Lynx-cap.
, m E

 

 

 

 

/ as oouvo mans. / 931KB LE,S\ truce, rm omrs.\

POCKET LIBRARY.

 

 

.1 Kaunas Sam, the King of the Plains. By Jon. E.
Ol', (-

W The ceun Bloodhound or. The Red Pirate: of
the Cnribhcee. Iiy Sumuel '. [‘r-nrce.

98 Phil llurdy, the Bone Boy: or, The Myetery oi the
Strongbow. fly Charles Merrie.

94 Deadwood Dcht an Detective. By E. L.Wheeler.

95 Buck Buekrum or, Bren. tho Female Trapper.
Bf; Cnptnin J. l". (a Admm.

96 Gi t-Eduod Dick, the Sport Detective. By E. L.

W 91'. .
9? The Black Steed of the Prairies. By Jame-
L Bowen

98 The Son Serpent} or. The Boy Robinton Crueoe.
By Junn Lewis.

99 Bonanza Blll, the Men Tracker. By . L. Wheeler.

100 Not Todd or, The Fate of the Sio x Captive. By
Edwnrd S. E lin.

101 Darling llnvy; the Young Bear Killer. By Harry
St. George.

103 The Yellow Chief} or,’l‘he Heli-blood’e Vengeance
By Capt. Mner Reid. _

108 Ohip, the Glrl Sport; or, The Golden ldol of Mt.
Roan. By Ellwnrd 1.. Wheeler.

104 The Black Schooner; or, Jib Junk. the 01d
Tur. By Roger Stnrhuck.

105 llundeonle Harry, the Bootblaclr Detective. By
Churlee Merrie.

108 Night-"awn: Kit; or, the Denghter of the Rench.
By as. E. Bridger, Jr.

107 Jack lloyle'u Lend; or, The Young Specu etor.
By Edward 1.. Wheeler.

108 Rock Mountain Kit, the White Multnlmel.
B T. ‘. Herheuzh. ‘

109 ’l‘ e Ill-untied "and; or, Tne Men or Myetery.
Bv Fruull Dumnnt.

110 The Broad Rider; or, The Texan Duelist. By
George W. lirowne.

111 Bonn Bob. the Klnzoiilootbieclre. ByE. L.Whee!er.

119 The llelplelul "and. By Capt. Mayne Reid.

118 Sour-Fate Saul. theSilentHunter. By OllCnomee.

114 Piney Paul. the Mountain lie :or. The Little
Arrow of the Arlirnndncke. By T. . linrblwgh.

116 Deadwood Dick’s Double. By E. L. Wheeler.

116 Jabs: Coilln. Ski per. or, Lost in the Polar Regions.
' By Capt. F. Vi'hittu er.

11? Fancy Frnnlr, of Orlando. By Hon. W. 1‘. Cody.
“ Bllflnlo Bill."

118 Will Wildfire, the Thoroughbred. Ry Chan. Morris.

119 Blonde Billdy or, Deadwood Dick’e Home Base.
ByEdwerdL. healer.

120 Gopher Gid,thelloy1‘repper. By T. C. iierbnugh.

, 191 llurry Armstrong, the CApLein oi the Club. By

Brucebridze Hemyng, (Jack Hurhawny.)

1&3 The Hunted llunter; nr,’l‘hr Strange Horsemen
oi the Prulrie. By Erlwnrd S. Ellie.

128 Solid Sam, the BoyRoml-Agent. By E. 1.. Wheeler.

124 Judge Lynch. In; or. The Boy Vigilante. By
'1'. C. Hurlmugh.

125 The Land Pirates; or. The Leugue of Devil’-
Illnnd. liy Cupt. Muynl Reid.

186 line Blnzce; or, The Break 0’ De, Boye or Rocky

er. By Frunk Dunan

13'? Tony Fox the Ferret; or, Bone Bob’e Boee Job. By
Edward L. Wheeler.

1138 Black Bean, “’ill Wlldflre‘e Racer. By Cir-rice
.\lorril.

129 Eagle Kit, the Boy Demon. By Oil Coomu.

180 Gold Trigger, the Sport. By T. C. Herhaugh.

181 A Game of Gold|wor, Deedwoud illck'e Big
Strike. lly Eriwurdl. healer.

185 Dainty Lance, the Boy Sport. By J. E. Badger, Jr.
135 “'lld-flre, the Role oithe Rand. By Frnnlr burnout.
184 Mike Merry, the ilnrbor Police Boy. By C. Murrll.

185 Deadwood Dick of Deadwood. By Edwerd
L. Wheeler.

 

mgmhhwuwaahaonwwanwmmwmummmnemmmmumbwnuwuw

136 old Rube, the Hunter. By Capt. Hamilton Holmen.

187 Dandy Rock, the Men from Texas. By G. Waldo
Browne.

138 Bob Rockett, the Buy Dodger. By Chris. M: rris.

189 The Black Giuni: or, Dainty Lnnce in Jeopnrdy.
By Joseph E. Bridger, Jr.

140 CaYtnln Arizona, the King Pin oi Roed-Agente.
By ’hilip S. “'arne.

141 New York Nell, the Boy-Girl Detective. By
Edward L. Wheeler.

142 Little Texanlhe Young Mnetnnger. By 011 Coomee

148 Dcudly Dneht or, Fighting Fire with Fire. By
Joe. E. Bridger, Jr.

144 Little Grlt, the Vi'ild Rider; or, Beuie, the Stock
'l'ender'n Dnugl ter. By Col. Prentin lllgruhnm.

145 The Tiger of Tao“ or.Wlid KIte,Dnndy Rnclr’e
Angel. By Geo. Wnldo Browne.

146 The Cattle King; or, Cortine’e Right Bower. By
Frmlk Dulnont.

14’? Nohby Nick oi'Novnda; or, The Scnxnpe of the
Sierra. By Edward L. Wheeler.

148 Thunderbolt Tom; or, The Wolf—Herder of the
ltochiel. By Hurry St. Georze

149 Rob Rocket the Bank Runner. or, The Roud to
Ruin. By Cbnr ee Norrie.

150 The Mad Miner; or,Dandy Rock’s Doom. By
G. Waldo Browne.

151 The Sen Trailer; or, A View Well Kept. By
Col. Prentiu lnzruhum.

152 Dnndy liar-ho: or, The Tiger: oflvligh Pine. By
mum... R. Eyttrr.

153 “'lltl Frank, the Buckskin Bruvo. By Edward L.
“'llreler.

164 The Boy Trnllcrei or, Dnlnty Lanes on the
Wen-Putin By Joe. E. ledger, Jr.

155 Gold Plume, the lloy Bandit; or, The Kid-Glove
Sport. lly Col. Premier Illgralmnl.

166 ‘1'!“ “'lldilre In the Woods. By C. lilorril.

1i)? Ned Temple, the Border Boy. By T. C. linr’unugh.

158 Deudwood Dick’s Doom. By E. L. Wheeler.

159 Patent-Leather Joe’s Defeat. By Philip. S.
\Vnrne.

160 Buil’nlo Billy, |he Boy Bullwhaclrer. By Col. P.
Ingmhem.’

161 Bob Beckett, the Crack-men; or, Drivm to the
Will]. By Charles Morris.

162 Little llurriuune, the Boy Cepulu. By Oil
Counch

168 Deadwood chh’u Dream: or, The Rink oi
the Road. By Edward L. Wheeler.

16-]: Tor-undo Tom; or, injun Jack from Red Core.
liy T. C. Hnrbnugh. Randy {\lurcll 2.

105 Ilnii'nlo Bill’lu Bet; or, The Gambler Guide. By
Col i’routine lngmlnun. Rendy March 9.

166 Will Wildfire “'inn and Lone. By Cheriee
Morril. Reurly March 16.

167 Dandy Rock’s Pledge: or. Hur ted to Deeth.
lty George W. Browne. Really March ‘23.

168 Dendwood Dick's “rt-rd ' or, The Blnelr Hilie
Jezebel. By nos-m L. “'beuier. Ready March 30.

Int-nod Every Wedncmlny.
Beudie’a Pocket Library in for enln by ell Newe-
d-cnleve, ilve cenie per copy, or eent by mail on receipt of eix
cent: each.
BEADLE d: ADAMS. Publirhoru,
98 “Villlnm Street, New York.

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

   

 

i .1‘.....

  

 

 

 

 

 
    

9
‘Q

1 Deer-hunter, the ....y Scout oi the Great North Woods.
By Oil Common.

2 Buffalo Bill, from Boyhood to Manhood. By Col. Pren-
tiisl Ingrnhnm.

8 Kit Carson, King oquldes. By Albert W. Aiken.

4 Gordon Lillie, the Boy-interpreter ofths Pawness. By
Mnjur. H. B. Stoddard.

5 Bruin Adnrnn, Old Grizziy’s Boy Purd.
Prentiss lngrnhnm.

6 Deadwood Dick us alloy.
7 Wlll'l Bill, the Pistol l’rince.

qurnhnm.
8 The Prairie Ranch. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr.
9 Ro'ving Joe: The History oi’n “ Bord-.r Buy." By A.
. Post.

By Colonel

By Edward L. “'heeler.
By Colonel Prentiss

10 Tcxnu Junk. the Mustang King. By Colonel Prentisl
ingrnhnm. y

11 Marley Rkylurk. A Story of School-day Scrast and
(Juliette Capers. By Mnjor H. B. Stoddard.

12 Marina-n Murnh. By Joseph E. Bridger, Jr.

13 Roving Ben. By John J. Mnrshnli.

14 liar-lug Staci, King of the liush. By J. E. Badzer, Jr.

15 \l’ lac-Awake George, the Boy Pioneer. By Edward
whim

16 The Boy \Viznril. By Burrv Ringgoid.

17 Peter Peppergrnsu, the Greeuhurn from Gotham. By
Nooiv Null.

18 Adrili: on the. l’rnirie. and Amnteur lluutcru
on the Buffalo Rnnzo. By 01] Coomes.

19 The Fortune Hunter; or, Roving Joe no Miner,
Cowboy. Truplmr and iiunier. By A. H. Post.
20 Trapper Tom, tho Wond Imp. By T. C. Harbnugh.

21 Yellow llnir, the Boy Chiefof tne Pswnees. By Col.
Prentiss lngrnlmm.

22 The Snow Trnil. By T. C. Hnronugh.

23 0}? Grizzly Adams, the Beer Tamar.
0W}: .

24 Woods and “'ntcrs. By Capt. Frederick “'hlttaker.

25 A Rolling Stone : incidents in the Career on Sen and
mm at Cal. Prentiss Ingrnhnm. By Wm. it. Eyster.

26 Red River Rovers. By C. Dunning Clark.

27 pm,“ “ml Plum; or, Wild Adventures or"Buckakin
Smut." (Mnj. Sam. S. Hall.) By Co]. B. lngrnhnm.

28 The Sword Prince. 1 no Romantic Life of Col. Mon-
Itery. 15y Cupi. Frederick Wiiitt .ker.

29 Snow-Shoe Torn. By '1‘. C. Harbnugh.

30 Paul de Lucy, the French Benet Chnrmer. By C.
Dunnng Cinrk.

31 Round the (Jump Fire. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr.

82 “'hlte Beaver, the lndisn Medicine Chief. By Col.
Prentiss lngrnnsm.

33 The Boy Cmsnder. By Capt. Fred. Whittaker.

8-1 The Chase of the Grant White Stag, and, Camp
and Canoe. By C. Dunning Clnrk.

86 0h! Tur Knuckle and iiis Boy Cliuml. By R. Starbuuk.

86 The Duflhlnz Dragoon: or. The Story of Gen. George
A. Cusler. By Culvl. Fred. Whittaker.

8? Night-Hawk George. By Col. Prentiss Ingrshnm.

88 The Boy Exiles ot'Sihel-la. By T. C. iinrhnugh.

89 The Young Bcnr Hunters. By Morris Redwing.

40 Smart slam, the Lad with 5 Laval iload. By Edward
wnim. '

41 The Settler’s Son. By Edward S. Ellis.

42 “'nlt Forluson’s Cruise. By C. Dunning Clsrk.

‘ 43 Blue and Revolver. By Capt. Fred. Whittaker.

By Dr. Frank

 

44 The Lost Boy Wilden.

15v 1'. C. Hubsngh.
45 Bronco Billy, the Saddle Prince. By Col.ln"rnhun_
46 Dick, the Stowaway. By Charles Mon-is.

47 The Colorado Boyu; or, Lifeou sn indigo Pimtstian.
By Joseph E. Badger, Jr.

48 The Pampas Hunters; or, New York Boys in

Buanos Ayn-l. By T. C. Hubsuizh.

4.9 The Adventurous Life of Nebraska Charlie.
By Col. Prentiss ingrnhsm.

50 Jack Harry and Torn, the Three Champion Brother-s.
By dnpt. Frsd. Whittaker.

51 The Young Lnnd-Lnbher. By C. Dunning Clsrk.

52 The Boy Detectives. By T. C. Harbsnzh.

53 Honest; liar-r ; or, The Country Boy Adrift. in the
(iity. By Char as Morris. ‘

54 California Joe, the Mysterious Pininsmsn. By Col.
Prentiss ingrnhnin.

55 Tip Tresael. the Floatar. By Edwsrd Wiilctt.

56 The Snow Hunters; or, Winter in the Woods. By
Blurry de Forrest.

57 Hurry Burners, the Sailor Boy Msgitisn. By S. W.
Pearce.

58 The Adventurous Life of Ca min Jock, tho
lioriler Boy. By Col. Prentiss Ingrn um.

59 Lingo Tim, the Mule Boy of the Mines. By Chsrles
Mn ris.

60 The Young Trnii‘ léunters; or, New York Boys in

Grizzly Lnnd. By . . Hnrbsngh.
61 The TI er Hunter or, The Colorado Boy-in Els-
phnnt lllltl. By Josey E. Badger, Jr.

83 Doctor Carver, the “ Evil Spirit " of the Phins. By
Cut. Prentiss lug nhnm.

83 Black Horse Bill, the Bandit Wnclsr. By Rogsr
Surrhuck.

64 Young Dick Talbot; or A Boys Rough sud Tnmbi.
Fight rm” New York to ésiiromn. By A. w. an».

65 The Boy Pilot; or, The island Wrecker. By Col.
Prentiss Ingruhnm.

66 The Desert Rove or Stowsz Dick A tb
Aruba. By Charles L orril. y molt .

67 Texas Charlie, the Boy Ranger.
lriginlmlii.

63 Little Hille; or, The Young Fur Hunters. By Coptda
“ Bruin " Adonis.

69 The Young Nihilist or A Y: X Be An: th
Rnssinns. ily Charles Nlorrls. n u y m '

70 Ponv the Cowboy; or. The Young Mnnhsli’s Reid.’
ny hinjor H. B. so. mi, [Ex—Smut.

71 thi’ Rohsart. and His Besr. By Csptsin “ Bruin "

( Ilfil.

By Col. Prsntiss

72 The Ice Elephuit. By Cspt. Frederick Whithku.
7B The Young Moo-cu Hunters. By William H.

Manning.
74 The Boy Coral-Fishers. By Roger Starbnek.
75 Revolver Billy, the Boy Ranger of Tans. By Col.
Premise Ingruhnm.
76 The Condor Killers. By '1‘. C. Hsrbsu‘h.

77 Lnd Lionhceis, the Young Tiger Fighter. By Roger
Stnrbnck.

rs Flnthoat Fred. By Edward whim
79 Boone, the iiuntnr. By Csptsin i". whim-r.
Bendie’s Boy’s Library is {or ssis by sli New”,
fivs cents per copy, or not by mail on mipt of six «nil such.
BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publisth

98 Willlagn Street, New Yorh

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

80 Kentucky Ben, the Long Rifle oi the Cascades. By
Roger Starhnck.
81 The Kit Carson Club. By T. C. ilnl'lmuzh.
82 Little Buck the Buy Guide. By nnrry lx‘iuggnld,
88 Pony Bob the Reckless Rider 01th:: Ruthie». By Cu].
rentiu in mhnm.
84 Captain 1 ly-b '-nght. By Jofieph E. llnduer. Jr.
85 (In inn Rulp ,tlio Young Explorer. By C. Dunning
I.

, a r

i 86 Little Dan Rocks. By Morris Rodwing.
8 The Menagerie, lluntern. Ily lilnf. li. Grenvillr.
88 The Ha Trumpn; or, Life Among tie Gipsiea. lly

J. M. l oifinnn.

S9 ’Lnnxshore, Lise. By C. D. Clark.

90 Ilovlng- Jilflc,t ,naler’s Little Scout. By T. C. Hnrbnuull.

91 Oregon Josh, the \Viznrd Rid». By Roger Stnrbnrk.

9E "urrlcnne Hit. By A. F. Holt.

93 Jumping Jake, the Colorado Circus Buy.
Enlnbridge.

94: Sum Spence, ills Bromllmm Boy. By Ell. “1119”.

95 Moscow to Sihcrlu; or, A Yankee Boy to the Rescue.
/By Charles Morris.

98 Fighting Fred: or, The Castaways oi Grizzly Cnnllv.
By T. (7. Hnrbnngh.

9'? Ornile of the Flynwny; or, Ynnkee Boys in Ceylun.
By C. Dunning (‘lnrk.

98 The lloy Vigilanth or, King Cole and His Bnnd.
By Mnj. H. B. Stoddm d.

99 The White leern; or, Silver Rifle, the Girl Trucker
of Laka SuperioY. By Capt. Chnrlus Howard.

100 The Snow-Shoo ’l‘rnil; or,Tho Forest Dcspemdoeu.

By St. George Rutlibonu.

)[nrlnnm the Ottnwn Girl; or, The Mysterious (.‘nnon.

By Edwnrd 5. Ellis.

102 The Flymrnf' Allont: or, Ynnlwe Bug: ’Rmnnl the
World. By C. )unnlng Clnrk.

103 PM Mnlloney’s Adventnruu; or, Silver Tongue
the Dncmuh Queen. ByC. L. Edwnnln.

104 The Bar Prospector; or. 'l‘hu Stu-rot of the Sierra
Ravine. By Roger Stnrhnnk.

105 Ml'nonec, the Wood Witch; or, The Snnnziur’s Set-rei-
By Edwin Emerson. '

106 The Boy Crlllncrn; or, Jon n.an .lnp‘s Bil; Find. By

, Edward “'illoti.

10? The Border Rove": nr,Lnnt on the Overland
Trail. By J. Illiltnn Hnihunn.

108 Alnlkn. the W'olf—Qucen: or, The Girty Bmtliers‘
Dunbie Crinw. 15v Curt. IlOWlll'll le'nln.

109 ghé-lilgtlan Jim, the White Man‘s Frlmul. By lCdn-nrd

. l3.

By Brynnt

«101

110 Pluaky Joe. the Boy Avenger: nr, Dirk llcluumt‘s
LII“ Ride. By J. .Vliltun iinfl'nmu.

111 The Barrier Gnnmuker; or, The Hunted Maiden.
By Jnuws L. llowml.

112 Lei't-“nmlell Pete, the Doublenifr.
E. liitducr, Jr.

1
113 The River Rim-n; or, The 1an ni'llnc l“ilailn.ml. iiy
Capt. J ‘

. F. L. Arinms.

114 Alone on the Plains. By EdwnI-d mum.

115 Silver "urn, null Ilin llillo Fll‘uiit'nlll. lly Huger
Skrbuck.

1116 Ex 101va of Hezekiah Smith, (hr linrhwnmlsnlnn.
15y .mersan Rotlnmn. .

117 The Yuan]: Mnntunzcru; or, Dirk )lerry'n Rang.
era. By C. Dunning (Ilntk.

118 old Traps; or, the Boy liivnis. Hy Bnrry Rinzuold.

119 (Ventu- Shot. the White (anw; or, Ruvjng Rlilc’l
Fir“ ,Cnmphign. By T. C. Harbnngh.

no A Hot Trail; or, Clark CloverlyAnmngthe Turinrn.
By Charles Morria.

121 Hunt" Psi-d Ben; or, The w-knph'n Blind Lend.‘
By Roger Starbuck. >

By Jusrpll

 

!

122

123 T

124
1‘35

126

127
128

129
130

im xvi-tun. the mid spy.

132

The Esqnlmnnx’ Queen; or, The Mystery of the
Lone Hut. By G. VanLlo Browne.

the lloy Acrobat; or, Life in the Circus Ring. By

(film as Illuyris. V

Queen Ronnie. Illcllnrdcrvtirl. ll\'licllry.l.Tlmm<ls.

Torn Tnhnr, llh- lb -
Gum: “ \VI-IVr-s." 3y lixngznlrl.

Mink Cunt, the Don .- or, The Spring of tho
'igcr. liy J: :1. it. lhnlgvr, Jr.

The Deer Hunters. By John J. Muralmll.

\Vult‘A‘um of. Tim nglJt-Iimvlis of the Fire-imnds.
lly Cay-L. ('lnm. Iiuwurd.

Sll crnpnr; or, The Mountnin llurnine.
\‘i'illclt.

licotsen, Qluen o: the Plnins.

in. r-r, The Young Lynch-

zy Edward

liy Pnrry B. St. Julin.
By Gent'ng (ilwrnn.

The Inland ’I‘r-nmwr; or. The Young Whitn—Bnilhlo
iiilllicl‘h. ily (illnrlus livwnl‘tl. g

138 TIN; Fort-MI Specter; m, The l’unm; liunier'n Fun.

84
135
134:
187

138
181)

140
141

lly Edwnwl wmm.
“'lhl Nut. Hm 'l‘mvpur. By “'m. 1:. I
The Silver Buqu hr, 'l'lw Indinn
(1.01;. My Liz-tit. u». linzmdn.

The l’l'nirlc Trapper. lly (Z llnuningj‘lnrlc.
The Antelope Buy. liy ‘3“). L. Aiken.

Lona: Shot: nr. Th0 Dirurt'Guirle. By Capt. (Tnuulm‘k.
Colonéi Crouhcu, the lienr King. By Chdrlm ii.
Lllsulle.

Old Pegs. ilw .‘lnnntulnecl'; or, The Trapper Rlvuh.
By Lewis \\‘. L'nrsun.

The Glnnt linntcr: 0r.’i'lm Mnd Sv-onrge of (in)
liiitknpwm. Ilyllm'ry
Blnck 'I’nnihcr,

Enrlgw', J 1'.

mm
nlnn of Si.

the Half-Blond. By down 

Csxrnon, ihe Nuidu; or, Perils of the Frontier. Dy Limit
.141. Ruxlriulpli.

Kent ilw R'Inui-r; or. The Fugitivun vi the Bonlvr. By
l‘lllulll'ti S. Elli .

“ill Rulilrinu, iluntvr; m,’l"lm Nun in Gm-n. l:y
l‘l\|\\l|lll \\ ilicll.

The IiniiLBrccd “lull; ur. The 'l’nnglml ’l‘mil.
i‘r.‘ Jur. li. lilulgvi , r.

’1 i=0 )l/ntlu-(i Avmlzrr. i1_\'["'l.l'rl-nils\l

Nut ilm 'i'rnlvpvr and Indian Mulder. A";

l‘ dt.

’l‘lw Elk Demon; Hr, The Hunt lirmhnra. l'
L2. llm'lmugli. ,
The llny Mnsiunu-llnnior; nr. Eunlnlln, tln:
lirlllillllili Alnrlvml. ] Frulrrlcl; ‘.\'liiita\l~ui'.

Frnnk Y tun, Yaan I‘
l\'u’ut's \‘l'm'ni . l  J

‘ an Mnuntnin

'i‘mflum Adi-mum. with min
lb 

l. \lill'i'li l‘J.

' Ill Ride
ll:||‘|_\' >1 (w

ly i’unl liilnhc.
The Chum ulun '1
tllu ilt‘V‘t'illv-hl unlA'r.
ihnliv Ninrcll '11".

- 1m llutlnlu,

' Dusky llivli‘v. Duo-n: or. 'l‘wlm

156

Smut. By Jan. E. linugrr, .lr. .
Frnnk Bell, tlv-z nnysldv; nym- My
Crystal Luliu. in- on chum-s. 1m

.v-‘uiy .

Bendlc’q Boy‘n Llhrnry in for finite lvy nil Newsdunlurn,
livu cunts per copy, nl- mm. by mail (ill n-rvipt oi'six cents em h.

BEADLI’. AND ADAMS, l’uhllnhcrn,
98 “'llllnm Street, New York.