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Number- No. 98 WILLIAM STREET N w YORK. FM Gem--

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BY COLONEL PRENTISS INGRAHAM.

AUTHOR or “ADVENTURES OF Bun-Au.) BILL," “ ADVEEITCREX or wan BILL," mu, mu.

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'2 ' ‘ I Bruin Adams, 01d Grizzly Adams’ Boy Pard. ’ ‘ , ,

 

Bruin Adams,
1 Old Grizzly. Adams’ Boy Pard.

Scenes of Wild Adventure in the Life of the
Boy Ranger of the Rocky Hountaihs.

BY COLONEL PRENTISS momnan,

 

neuron or “ snvmrmns or nor-ram sum,”

“ sauna-nuns or wunn BILL," “ram
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CHAPTER I.
m nor ham-3mm

Back hemthesh‘ores of Seneca Lake, in the
Empire SlmItlll Intends an old farm-house,
which today“ pointed out as the birthplace
of two men who have made themselves famous
in ‘the border history of their country, among
such heroes as Kit Carson, Bull!an Bill, Davy
preokett and a score of others of that ilk, about

,whose daring adventures, in the wild forests
and upon the trackiess plains, stories will be
written and read for centuries to come, filling
the hearts of American youths with admira-
tion ofthe brave borderme’n who lived in the
times when the Indians were on the war-path,
andthe great West was only known to the
hardy pioneer, the invaluable scent and the
' soldier. ‘

The two to whom I refer are known as
Grizzly Adams, more commonly called “Old
Grizzly,” and his nephew, who won the appella~
tion, and deservedly, of Bruin Adams.

Old Grimly followed the “ Star of Empire "
, westward as soon as the country began to get
“thickly settled,” as he called it, though the
‘ nearest neighbor was two miles distant; but he
loved the solitude of the tenet, and his rifle
and his dog were the only companions he cov-
eted.

Hence he bade farewell to the old folks at
home and turned his face toward the setting
sun, continuing onward and onward, until at
lasthereached the vastsolitudes oftheRocky
Mountains, where he made his abiding-place,
and was content to hung‘flsh and trap 0 live-
long day. ' ' I _ '

His brother remained at the paternal home,
married a farmer’s daughter, and 1., F. C.
Adams, afterward known as “Bruin,” westhe
V result of this union. ‘ < I ‘ .'

As the-boy grew in years he listened to th ,
talesof wild, adventure that came back from
the West regarding his uncle, and ohivhow he
did long to emulate his exampleand win a
name  Indian-fighter dod‘huuter of
the   beyond the aficiviliza-
tion. {  j * o ' . r ‘ 5? If? u . r

Ere  years of  gone
over  scenes “$3 the lake his
undelith  so well, had carnped alone
‘ ‘ in thedenseforestaaud caused
, to! teammate, too,» would “go
West" assooara‘shehscasse bitter.

A patent rider  even though
not in  he carriud'ufl many a prise

  
 

‘ at.
the swotlfigiatehee and races, and loving his
ponyand. morethanhis'books, hewas _s’e~
looted by  father to ride a lonely mill-route
of thirty-C, , ‘_ fer-he could not keepthe boy
at schoolhnddid not care where-him con-
‘tinualiyaaeapia‘g in the forests,  all
, Young Adams readily consented to honours
“mail-rider," as, the road would carry him
through his best hunting-Maoisngva him

  

am portnnity to k   he we t ,
wig-33a also he was Jesus! " felt all
heiommm ; ing s little, “money. .
en . ' noe‘ - I
we  he.
othersadafhik “
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“would: ruin of

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he was expected to make between sunrise and
sunset. " '

The next morning, mounted upon his other
horse, he was to return to the starting point.

Anxious to be fully prepared against any
danger he might have to face, the youth had
purchased a double-barrel pistol and fine hunt-
ing-knife, and canin these in his belt in ad-
dition to his rifle slung at his back.

He had also a couple of stout blankets rolled
up behind his saddle, a piece of painted canvas,
with a hole in the center to slip his head
through, which protected him from the rain,
and a bag of provisions, with matches, which
his thoughtf‘dl mother provided him with, in
case he should have to camp out, as was some~
times the case in a blinding snow storm, or
when the other mail-riders came in hours behind
time, and he could not start before afternoon.
' But no matter how lets he got his mail,
Jimmy Adams always started upon his ride, to
go as far as possible before dark, camp if the
night was bad, and continue on if pleasant.

By his pluck and determination in this he
got the name at both ends of the route as a
boy who was not afraid of the hoot of an owl,
hard work, or a drenching by rain, and who
would one day make his mark in the world, for
few men cared to take that dismal ride alone,
there being but two farm-houses along the way,
and carrying, too, valuable letters frequently,
that would tempt desperadoes to murder an
robbery. -

CHAPTER II.
_ m min-303nm.

Ir was on one of his trips out from the home
station, that young Adams met with an adven<
tnre that made him famous throughout the
country where he lived.

There was no postal—order system in those
days, and people frequently sent money in the
letters, and the mail-riders had to often halt

before the muzzle of ’a rifle or pistol, and see .

Uncle Sam’s letters opened before their eyes
and robbed of their pecuniary contents, ,

As several robberies of the kind had been
perpetrated lately not far from young Adam’s
route, he was asked at the ; villfite 0386 day,
while ‘waiting for his saddle-bags, what 'he
would do if the robbers halted him.

“OhIIdon’t know until itha us.  - '

"‘ I might run, and then I mig ’tn’t," was h
cautious reply. ; ' ,

Which he really did do the’villagers soon had
an opportunity of finding out, for one after-
noon, when Jimmy was starting late for his
long ride, the mail from the'southe‘rn districts
coming hours behind time, he was told by the
postmaster ‘in a whisper that several letters
wore valuable and. to be very careful on the.
way. - w , ,

The boy promised and started on the way;

It was near sunset when he turned off
through a path, his uncle, Old Grizzly, had
made years before, and which cut ed a couple
.of miles, as the main road made a circuit
around the bend of a creek.

dust as he arrived at the creek suddenly out
from behind large trees stepped two men.

At a glance the boy saw that they were
notde in the common homespun. of the
farmers. r '

 their intentions were hostile he also ,

‘could‘hee, tertiary each holds pistol, and
their manner wssthmtaning.
,. Unfortunately just behind the boy a
fallen tree, which he hadth bride around
to go down to the creek crossing, which was
just before him. u -
Thebank of theereeksrashigh pt
to the water, stood the two 

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l“ I look over the letters,‘ w  you,

was»

(“gum uclithettiiey,w,  ‘

“ I am not the postmaster, but the mail-
rider, and if [had a dozen for you, I couldn’t
give them to you, so let me pass, please," and
the boy spoke firmly. V

“ Not until we have had our letters, as give
us the key of the bags."

“ I haven’t got it."

“Then a knife will do as well. Cane,
Herndon, let ns'get those letters and stand no
more trifling,” said one of the men. ,

“ Better put a bullet in the boy, too, so he'l
never be able to W in us," remarked the
second man in‘ a low tone.

“Gents, Uncles”: wanisme to carryhis
mail through, and I’m goin to do it, so git!”

As he spoke the boy a y draw out lie
double-barrel pistol. , ' g

The not caused one man to fire (Richly, and
the bullet grazed the boy’s  (from
blood; but his shot was a dead center on. and
the man fell, shot through the head. ‘ ,

Bis companion also drew trigger a" the
youth, but the cap snapped, and as the young
rider fired his second shot his horse sprung into
the air and destroyed his aim.

But the man seemed now to wish only for
flight, the death of his comrade having demor-
alized him, and he sprung over the creek bank
into the water, just as the brave boy wright
sight of two horses hitched far down the
stream. '

Instantly he put spurs to his pony and rode
to them at full speed, and dismounting, n-
hitched them, and with the reins in his
lead them back into the woods. L

Then reloading his pistol he returned slowly
toward the crossing, and saw where the man
had left the water and run down the other
bank, evidently intending to recover and gain
his horse, and either pursue the youth or seek
safety in flight.

Hastily crossing, as well as he could, with
his led horses, the daring young mall-rider
rode on a trot, and shortly after dark at-
rived at one of the two farm-houses he had to
pass upon his ride. ‘

He told the farmer what had occurred,
turned the homes over to him, and while he
and his sons started in pursuit of the mail-rob-
ber, the boy rode on and safely arrived at his
destination. , , .

The-next morning early, when he started
upon his return, twosoore‘ of horsemen accom-
panied him to the scene of the attack, and
there met the farmer and his sons with the
second robber standing by the body of the one
the boy mail-carrier had slain.

the.farmer. -

Then the secret came out that one of the
robbers, and the one which Jimmy had killed,
was the son of a wealthy farmer livirg‘ some
forty miles away, who, having lost money,»
gambling, and knowing that his father‘s:-
pected a valuable package by 1 intended to
rob the boy-rider of it, and 7  Wifll
him an accomplice, a’ young‘man is em as
himself. I A

The accomplice was tried and sent to Btabe
prison, and the old farmer, refusing to even
receive the body od’jis son, it was buried
where it ran, and when Adams was might 0-
m: ride? by gm. he usedto say he prof-reed

v-iiille'graveefthe man

  

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youths of the country as an evidence of what a
young lad could do. ,

The village school," by which he passed going
and coming in his rides, whenever he was late
in starting, was turned out for the children to

I see him go by, and when he returned, after

school-hours, many a. poor lad who was kept
in felt himself partly rewarded by getting a
how from the young mail-rider.

One morning, when the two riders, whose

mull he took from the village, were again.

late, Jimmy found at the store, which was
the post-office too, a man whom the post—
master introduced to him as an itinerant per-
son traveling through the country in the eu-
deavor to do good.

“Parson Flemming goes your road, boy,
and as he is a stranger, you will have to be his
guide,” said the postmaster.

The boy looked at the doleful face of the
person and came to the conclusion that he
would have a most dismal ride of it, but he
said he would be glad to show him the way.

The person stood by while the mail was
made up and placed in the saddle-bags, and
then the two mounted. - .

Jimmy was on a new home, one he had
bought with his earnings, and he was very
proud of his purchase, though he was a fiery,
seemingly vicious animal.

The person was also wall mounted on a

sobcr~looking white mare which, however, had'

geod points.

Together they started 0!, aud'oucs out of
the village and the person became quite lively,
told the boy pleasant stories, and quite won
his confidence. '

“I have a desire to go hythe spot where
you met with your adventure, my son,” said
the person, as they reached the short-cut
through the woods. . -

Then he got the young man-carrier to tel
him all about it, and the two drew rah side by
side and gazed intently down upon the grave of
the dieowneu son, when,quick as a flash, the par-
son raised his whip, and brought the butt of
it down with telling force, upon the unsuspect-
ing head of the boy. '

It was a stunning blow, and the boy saw it
coming, but not in time toavoid it, and he
dropped from his saddle like a log, though he
seemed to drive the spun-slate his horse’s flanks
before he tell-» I - ‘ '

With a wild snort the animal hounded away,

are the person could seize his bridle-rein, and,”

having been over the road several times before,
dashed down the narrow gap leading to the
stream, crossed and ran like a deer.

Uncariug for the boy the pal-sou sped after
ihu flying . horse, lashing the animal he rode at
may bound she made. to make her overtake
the mail-rider’s horsc. '

Had it been either of Jimmy’s other rings,
the really fast animal of the pursuer would
have overtaken him;.but the boy’s horse was
a rapid runner and kept ahead of the pretend-
ed person, in spite of every eflort to catch

' him.‘

After a run of several miles, finding that the
mull-hugs were still beyond his reach, the man
halted his tired horse, at the same time curs-
ing bitterly his ilHuck, for there was a valu-
able packagesln the mail—bags he had laid a
deep plan‘ to gut. V

KnOWing that the country would be aroused,
as soon as the riderleu horse ran into the next
village, “16 robber Oat  in  uncaring
tor the poor boy Wham ' he had so cruelly im-
posed upon and leit 131:; mg, M in the
road. I

But the youthful mailLrider was by no
means dead. . ' _

Hehad athlck hat on, alsoathiekhaadof
hair, and fortunately a thicker shell, or the

blow of the lead-loaded Whip-handle would

have killed him, (or, as it was, it antic-scalp

Mum’ the boys: 

, _ Weedless,
wannahlaweollect his Ween-ea: but

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masonry/alther ‘ I

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Bruin‘Adams, Old Grizzly Adams’. Boy-Para. 3

 

Rising, he bathed his head in the creek,
moistened his handkerchiet' and binding it
around the wound, started on the road tohis
destination. '

“I hope that he didn't catch Rocket, forI
started him oil well,” he kept mutteringto
himself as he strode along.

As night overtook him he felt very lone-
some, and whistled to keep himself company;
but on he trudged, until presently there came
a sharp yelp near him.

He knew the sound well, for it was the bark
of the wolf, for the woods were by no means
free from these pests. . .

He had often seen them when alone in his
hunts; but then ,he had his rifle with’him,
which of late he had not carried.

Now he had his double-barrel pistol, and
though not afraid of being attacked, he yet
did not like such a savage companion for a
tramp at night.

Noticing that the wolf gave a howl ever and
anon, as he trotted along after him, he knew
that hows: calling othent, and this was no
cheering thought.

Soon the howls were answered from the dark
depths of the forest, and. ere long a dozen
gaunt forms were prowling behind him, whin-
ing, snarling and snapping; '

Still the brave boy held on, keeping nphis
presence of mind,,for he knew the slightest
sign of fear on his part would he the signal for
the wolves to spring upon him.

Gradually the pack increased in numbers,
until nearly two-score were around him, for

1 they gained courage as others came and ran in

front of him and upon either side, yet always
keeping at a respectful distance.
Some would stand-in his very path, snarling

"viciously as he approached, and hoping that he

would halt in ahead of them; but boldiyhe
moved on, and they broke from his'advanca
with angry yelps. '

Once they waited until he came so close that
he was determined to show them that he had
the means to protect himself, and thrusting
forward his pistol he fired at those directly in
frontfiand wheeling quickly, at those behind
him.

In spite of his danger, his nerve was steady,
and he dropped. two of the savage brutee in
their tracks, and scattered the rest in wild
terror. » \ ' ‘

Then on he went, but he knew that he would
soon have company'agaln. '

As they‘threw themselves upon their dead
companions and tore them in pieces the hubbnh’
of howls was fearful, and enough to strike ter-
ror to the stoutest heart. 7

But the boy at once determined to load his
pistol to be ready for them again, when, to his
horror, he discovered that his ammunition
pouch was not on his belt.

For a moment he was dumb with amass-
ment and dread, for he felt how helpless he was
then. '

It had evidently come unhooked when he
tell tron: his horse. ‘

What to do he did not know, until suddenly
he spied a tree with limbs near the ground.

Had he attempted to climb it with the pack
at his heels, be Well knew it would be the sig-
nal for them to rush upon him.

Now he was alone, and be bounded toward

the tree.

As he did so, he heard the yelps behind him,
and knew that some of the savage braces had
tin-try finished their meal and were hot on‘his

ran . ‘

‘Like the very wind‘he went along, reached
the tree, sprung into the lower limbs and just
reached a place of safety when a dozen wolves
were snarling savagely beneath him.

“ Jimminyl but that wasclcse," hesaid, and
he gazed down upon the pack, which was mo-’
mentarily‘increaaiug. I '

And his a couples! hours he sat item‘an

“than he heard tuna: ot-hoots and voices in”

lam conciliation approaching, magnesium
atonce ‘ a‘dootn Wen”
rodeln algae ' 'f' . .

\

Hailing them, they came to the tree, and to
his joy the boy mw his own horse, led by the
farmer who had aided him in his other adven-
ture. '
“ He came to the gate, my led, and neighed,
and I knew something was wrong, so got the
boys and a few neighbors to come and look you
up,” said the good farmer.

Jimmy quickly made known his adventure
with the pretended preacher, and mounting his
horse rode on his way, leaving the farmers to
look up the scoundrel while he delivered the
mail, which he did without further accident,
and a Second time became a hero.

But his mother was so wretched at the den-
gers he ran as mall-rider she begged him to
give it up and come back home, and, an obo~
dient son that he was, he obliged her, thOugh
thefiskylifoheledwas beginning to have a
great charm for him.

CHAPTER IV.
run SCHOOL-BOY.

Snosrnr after J immy’s return to the pater-
nal root-tree, he was persuaded by his parents
to go to the country school, and feeling thathe
did needlearning, as he was quite hackwnrdi'n
hisstudles, though in advanced in the art ctr
hunting and other sports, he  to at- ‘
tend, andsach morninz‘rodethere on horse-
back. ,,

He studied hard, for he was determined not
tobefootofhisclass whenhe wasthe hero of
the school; but the teacher, for some ‘
did not like him. , ‘ 1

Perhaps he did not like it because the youth
did not cringe at his look and start atlhis can,
and it may be that he dated his dislike to one
day when he found an exceedingly oerrect
likenem of himself upon the blackboard, {or

 

which a young lad”with artistic talent was go. V .

ingtobewhipped; when our lad stepped lei--~
wardandsaidhewastheartist. , y‘

The teacher disbelleved‘ him’, and the one ac‘
cased said he was the guilty one, and he really
was; but he was a sickly lad, and littleAdams
didnotwanttosee him whipped as he knew
the Tartar, as the boys called the teacher,
would whip him,'-and consequently‘had gener-
ousiytoldastory. ’ '_v "

"If you did that you‘cau do it again, and I
wish to see you,” said the teacher. , ' w y
‘ Instantly young Jimmy took up thepieoe at
chalk, and to the surprise or all. the 
drew a. caricature of the teacher that win ,a
better work of art than the other, for he had

really a talent for drawing. . '

That settled it in Tartar’s eyes, and , sung ‘
Adams got a thrashing which he took he a
man, though it was a severe one. u" ‘ ,

Asiftokeephishandln, he turned u f ' a
little girl, who had displeased him, ‘waa
bringing his rod down upon her,” when Jimmy
sprung upon him with ‘savage fury, wrenched
the whip from his hand and showeredo‘pm
the surprised teacher such rapid blows that he
rushed in terror from the school-house. ' , ’ , ’ ‘

Seeing that he held the fort; and that'the
children were wild with excitement, the boy-
master teak the master's desk, rapped for

order, and calmly dismissed the school, alter ‘

which he took the little girl he had saved from
a beating under his protection and left the
scholastic cabin, just as the teacher, armed
with a handful of switches, was’rtmrning ,to
retake the citadel. ‘ " , .'

, Sprluging upon his horse, and drawing the
timid little mim up behind him, ("my dashed '
away, and carried the wee girl toherhon‘icand ‘ '

'made known what had Occurred, alterwhloh

he wenttohis own abodeand told his parent

that he guessed he had knowledge enough It:

awhile. ‘ _ , ' <
The master called at the Adams hummus!

and toldhisstory; but the truth'had and?

beenheard from several of the children, ind
Farmer Adam- pmmr ,1.an
that’his’son'ha‘d ‘ M has the '_ ’ 
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4
CHAPTER V.
. TEE STRANGE oussrs.

How strange is it that Destiny seems to di-
rect our steps at times, to work out results we
1mm dream of. as sometimes an evil act will
result in general good.

It so happened one day that Farmer Adams
wished to send his son upon an errand that
would occupy him for several days, as it was to
take a wagon to a kinsman who lived a long
distance 011‘ for some seed wheat, which he had
of a very superior kind.

At any other time Jimmy would have gone
without a word; but he had just arranged for
a camp-hunt with some young companions,
and refused to go, which made his father very
angry.

Jimmy appealed to his mother, and she
sided with his father, and angry words fol.
» how‘ed, and the youth went to his room that

night with bitterness in his heart. '

The more he brooded, the more he fielt that
he hsd‘been injured by his parents, and at last
he wrote a, cold note of farewell, left it on
his table and packing up his traps, crept out
o." the house and departed, as he believed, for-
over.

Helm! taken his favorite horse, the one
which he had ridden the day the pretended
preacher had knocked him from the saddle,
and only such other things as he had pur-
chased with his own money, which he had
mmed as a mail-rider.

For several days he held on his way, going
tow the west, which he had long wished to
no, and one evening, just. at sunset, he came to
n church by the roadside. , ‘

It was the Sabbath day, and bearing sing-

’ mg within he could not resist the inclination

m hitch his horse and enter. ,

it was a peaceful little church, with its
burying-ground encircling it, and the sweet
; ugng wlmin, the hour, and his having tum-
ui his back upon his home, impressed him
deeply. ‘

’ All trawl-stained as he was he softly en-

Tered, slipped into a back pew, and then start~

«d as he saw before the chancel a coffin, and

heard the low wailing of a voice in sorrow.

“Whois'deudl” heasked, of a man in the
same pew, and not with any idea that he
would know the deceased if told, but merely
because he wanted to speak to some one.

“Poor Bennie Elgin's mother, widow lil-
gin,” whiz the man. ' .

“ Thank you,” be mechanically said.

“Did you know her?” asked the man.

(. Nan *

“She was a widow, and Bennie was her
only son, and he was so wild and wicked it
broke berheart. He ran on from home and

I inroads her down sick, and he came back yes;

'terduy to find her dead, and now he feels re-
morse, for just hear how he sobs and he is
nearly a man in years.”

It was a simple story, though alas! one that
is too often true in this world; but it touched
the boy listener. to his inmost soul, and he
bowed hishea‘d, and the tears walled up in his

eyes.

', Out of the little church then came the minis-
tor, and the pull-bearers with the coflln, and
behind them'tbe white-faced, quivering sou.

\ Mechanically the boy followed too, saw

- iuem lower the poor mother into her grave,
.«aw the earth thrown in,’»beard the heart—
i'ending sobs of the prodigal son, and then,
With the crowd he turned away in the gather-
lug/ darkness.

,1 Straight to his horse hewent, and mount-
ing. turned back on the bomeward trail, mut—

 

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x “ wasubruteto get angryle mygood
/ old paren‘ J and will return and ask them to
. forgive wicked boy, or. one Us i might
gobacktotheold place find it. w .d be too

m. - .
 he went, arriving home late
" , at a time which

i To his  in no a ligb‘ in was“...

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 Adonis, OldGrizzly Adams‘ Boy Pard.

room, and crept up to the window, silenc-
ing the faithful watch-dog, who welcomed him
with a bark, by a stern word, and looked
within.

What he saw caused him to start in terror,
rub his hands over his eyes, and look again.

His mother was seated in her easy-chair, but
she was securely bound there, and a cloth'was
over her mouth.

His father lny upon the floor, his feet to the
tire, and bare, and his bonds were bound sev
curely, while he was firmly tied upon a plank.

Over him bent two cruel~looking men, who
were just drawing him nearer to the fire, as
though to put his feet in the flames.

“Tell us now where your gold is hidden, or
we will burn your feet to cinders!” said one of
the men, sternly.

“Yes, we will kill you if you do not, for we
are desperate, and will have your gold," said
the other.

“Before Heaven, I have no gold here, men.
I did have, but I carried it to town with me
two days ago," groaned the old farmer.

‘ ‘ You lie, and you shall tell," was the
vicious response.

In vain did the terrified, horrified wife try
to move or cry out; she could not utter a
word, or release herself from her bonds, and
saw her husband slowly moved nearer the
fire.

“It is your last chance, Adams, so tell,"
cried one of the men.

But they were his last words, for there was ,

a tingle of glass mingling with a sharp report,
and the man fell deed—shot through the brain.

At the same instant the door was dashed
open and in sprung the tall form of the re
turned son, and a pistol covered the heart of
the remaining robber ere he could turn upon
the intruder or grasp a weapon.

A cry of joy broke from the father’s lips,
and the old mother fainted from very glad-
ness.

When she recovered she found her husband
and son bending over her and the robbers no-
where visible, for one lay dead out on the
porch andjhe other securely bound by his side.

Then Jimmy heard the story of how they
had asked to be entertained for the night, and
had betrayed the hospitality xteuded tothem.

And he humbly asked his athor‘and mother
to forgive him, but the former said: .

“ Don’t speak of it, my son, for if you had
gone after the wheat you would have been still
absent, and nothing would have saved me from
those devils, while, as it is, it has all come out
well.”

 

CHAPTER VI.
run arms or THE LAKE.

For. some time after his fortunate return to
his home, Bruin remained upon the farm, de»
voting himself to aiding his father andhuut-
ing, but more particularly tothe latter.

At night he used to study and recite his les-
sons to his mother, who was wellcducated,
and in this way learned for more than be had
at school, and certainly had a far more agree-

. able teacher than was old Tartar.

Some‘months thus passed along pleasantly,
and as the robber guest who had been killed by
Bruin had been buried the day after the affair,
and his accomplice taken to the town jail, tried

. and convicted at once, the matter had ceased

to be a cause of excitement in the neighbor-
hood, though the youth wss still looked upon
with curiosity and admiration wherever he
want.

.One night a farmer stopped at the Adams
house, and his face was pale and manner ner-
vous, for he said he had seen a ghost.

Of late there had been rumors flouting about
of a specter having been seen by several in
various parts of the forest and along the lake
abatement! this report, coming fronts man
known to be reliable, excited the amusement
of Farmer Adams and his wife, and the deep-
est interest of their son. , _ .

Thrower-Wee“, out,”uehe
expressed it, that be ingly scoop-tad the

 

invitation to stay all night, as he said his folks
were not expecting him home foraday or two,
be having been to a distant town on business.

“Tell us about it, brother Gains,” said Mrs.
Adams, who had belonged to the same church
as the farmer, and therefore claimed him as a
brother in the Lord.

“ I’ll tell you, folks, all about it,” and having,
in spite of the ghost, eaten a good supper, the
farmer pushed his chair back from the table
and began:

“ You see there have been stories going
around of late about hunters about the forest’
lie shores seeing a ghost—have you seen any
ghost, my boy, for you are out a great deal, I
know, and having kilt two men would be the
most likely ghost-sighter in the country i"
and Farmer Gains turned to Bruin.

“ No sir, I have seen nothing of the kind,
though I go Seldom up to the part of the lake
where you saw your ghost,” answered the youth.

“ Well, it was just ’twixt daylight and dark,
and I was coming quietly along the horse»
path, for I'd cut through from the main-road,
thinking I’d fetch your house, Farmer Adams,
’bout supper-time, when I saw a white object
coming through the trees and making for the
water.

“I looked at it hard and seen that it were a
woman, for her hair hung down her back, and.
she were dressed in white, with a robe hanging
down from her shoulders. .

“ I hollered to her, but she never looked at
me, and reaching the shore sprung intoe. white
canes and glided out from the land, standing
up, and without any peddle just gliding over
the water.

"Just then there came over my head a bar
rid screech, and though I now think it was an
owl, it skeert me that bad then, that my horse
were pushed bard until I seen the gate lecdin'
into your farm, brother Adams."

. “I must go and look up this ghost,” said
Bruin, quietly.

“Don’t do it, my son, for evil befalls those
who go snooping round looking into the superna-
tural," said Farmer Gains, earnestly. »

“ No, my boy, you had better let things not
intended for us to understand, alone,” said
Mrs. Adams.

But though Bruin made no further reply, he
thought considerably upon the matter, and
made up his mind that he would yet solve this
mystery of the Specter of the Lake.

Work upon the farm prevented him from
putting his determination into execution for
some weeks, and in that time various other
persons had seen the specter, either strolling
along the shores of the lake, or gliding over
its waters, and apparently without the use cfa
paddle. '

She never spoke when spoken to, and seemed
to be not of the earth, to those who saw her in.
the twilight, or moonlight, for she was never
seen at other times. ‘

Some said she was the spirit of an Indian
maiden, who had committed suicide by drown-
ing, rather than marry a warrior her father
wished her to, when she loved another, and
others told of a young girl who had died one
day in the stage-coach going alongthe highway,
and been buried by the roadside.

Whoever, or whatever it was, it was certain
that the neighborhood was strongly excited over
the mysterious Specter of the Lake. ‘

. CHAPTER VII.
Baum sunrnrsnn BY A rumors.

Tumors Bruin Adams, for I call him by.
the name he isbest known by, though he did i
not win that appellation until he was seveuv
teem—beard these rumors, the more be deter—
mined to solve the . ,

Butss his father kept his eye on him all
day in the farm work, and own went hunting
with him, and his mother taught htm~his les-
eons every night, he knew that be was closely
watched to parenthme magm-
huntdng expedition. / .

Onsdey, however, Hrs. meet elem-t,
telliugher thumme coming, to

 

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5

vv
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l

 

Bruin Adeline, 01d, Grizzly Adams’BOy Par-d ' ' k , g 5

 

spend a few weeks at the farm, and all was
such busy preparation, that the dear old lady
forgot all about the specter, and sugges'cd to
Bruin that he take his gun and fishing-rod, and
get some game and fish.

This was just the opportunity Bruin was
waiting for, and armed with his rifle and re-
volver, for he had lately purchased a weapon
of the latter description, and carrying along
his fishing-tackle, he started for the lake, in~
cidentally remarking to his mother that he
might not return that night if his luck was bad.

~‘ Be back in time for dinner tomorrow, my
son," answered the busy woman, still oblivious
of the specter in her duties of preparation.

' Bruin promised and set out, and straight to
the lake he went.

A careful examination of the shores showed
him where, at one point, there were a number
of tiny tracks going and coming, and the
marks of a light form in the sand.

Two miles up the lake he had a bark canoe
that his uncle Grizzly had had before him,
and which an Indian chief had made. Often
both had used it in their hunting and fishing
excursions, and its hidingsplaoe was a tall,
hollow tree. ' ‘

To this tree Bruin went, climbed up to the
large hollow and was reaching his hands in to
seize the bow of the canoe and draw it out,
when they were almost put in the mouth of a
huge bear.

There was a sudden growl, and the start
threw the youth from his seat and he tumbled
to the ground, but was as nimble as a cat and
caught on his feet.

The savage brute instantly followed, but as
she turned around to come down the tree, for
a bear cannot come down head first, I suppose
my readers know, Bruin got several good
shots at the head of his future namesake, and
theanimal fell dead at his feet. ‘ ‘

He was delighted at his victory, for this
was his first bear, and set to work skinning it
and cutting it up to hang in the trees until he
could go and get a horse to carry it home.

While thus engaged he got a grab from
behind, just below his jacket, and jumped
clear over the carcass he was bending over,
for he had not known any living human or
brute creature wes near himuud his mind
was running upon the ghost.

To his surprise and delight he beheld a smell
cub gazing wonderineg at him, and another
clambering down the tree.

Instantly he sprung upon the little animal
that fought savagely, and gave him several
scratches and bites, but was secured in safety,
39d then came the tug of war with the other
one, thathed begun to crawl back to his hole
ilithe tree at seeingthe fight with his brother
and the boy. V

This youngster was also conquered and se-
cured, and after completing his work, Bruin
slung one of the cubs overhis shoulder, lend
started homeward at a trot, determined to first

' «can his game.

1118 nts were delighted at his capture,
though he didn‘t tell them why he was getting
the canoe, when he discovered the bear, and
518 {other returned with him after the game.

it was late in the afternoon when Bruin saw
his tethercepm, loading the horse he had rid-
den back and which had the cub ‘and game
strapped on him, and he said indiflerently:

“1’11 camp tonight, tether, and coins in
with 8 smug 0‘ M and some game by noon
tomorrow." .

Farmer Adams doubting suspected that, his
daring son was bent on ghost-hunting, but he
merely said: ‘

“ Don‘t be rash. my boy.”

" No, father," was the quiet answer, and the
farmer rode back with his beer meat and cub,
the latter snarling and snapping “my M;
being a prisoner.

CHAPTER VIII.
we a 3mm.
AS' soon as Farmer Adams was out of sight,
Bruin climbed up the L

of the hollow the light bark canoe, which
hardly weighed thirty pounds.

He patched up a few weak places in it, took
one long and one short paddle in his hands,
and shouldering the canoe, carried it to the
lake side. ‘ ‘ '

Launching it, he sprung in and started up
the lake, and stopped near the place where he
had seen the tracks the day before.

An examination showed him that the specter
had been there since he had last: visited the
spot, and going further up the coast shore, be
securely hid his canoe beneath the branches of
an overhanging tree.

The prow was turned out into the lake, the
paddles were in their place, so that the youth
could spring in, if in haste, and dart out at
once from his place of concealment.

Then the young hunter went ashore, and
seeking the trail left by the small foot, followed
it into the forest.

For full a. quarter of a mile it led him, and
then he came upon the banks of a small stream,
across a part of which a small net was ingeni—
ously spread, and which held several fine fish.

“ The ghost gets hungry at any rate,” said
the boy, as he discovered the secret of her visit
to the forest, and be mentally commented upon
her taste for getting fluerflsh than he could
in the lake.

, Here, concealed in a thicket, he waited for
the coming of the specter.

As the shadows began to deepen, he felt
fully the loneliness of his situation, and uncom—
,fortnbly before him would rise the dead faces
of the two men whom he had killed, and he
grew quite nervous.

But/he had a brave heart, believed little in
the supernatural, and checking the growing
desire to skip homeward at ’a lively pace, and
leave ghost-hunting, to others, be determined
to,remnin and meet the result unflinchingly.

Twilight at length fell upon the scene, and
then dimly in the distance he beheld the specter
gliding rather than walking toward him.

His eyes became riveted upon the slender
form, and his heart almost ceased to beat.

She was attired in a loose-flowing robe of
white, her dark hair hung down her back for
below her waist, and what seemed to be a.
sheet, in the uncertain light, fell from her
shoulders and waved out behind as she went
along. '

She walked directlyto the spot where the
not was set, took out two fish, released the
other, again not her trap, and turned away.

Then the boy stepped from‘his concealment
and began to slowly follow her. I

Straight to the shore she went, her form
gliding through the darkening forest. and in-
deed looking most spectral-like. ,

Into her canoe she got, and standing up be-
gun to slowly move out into the lake.

The moon was just rising, and 'as the boy
reached his canoe he saw that the arms of the
apparition moved, and yet the handsheld no
paddle. I '

She stood upright, and the mere swaying of
her arms seemed to send the light craft over
the Waters fully as fast asshe could have urged
it with a paddle. ‘ ’

Out from the dark shelter then the .yonth’s
canoe shot in pursuit, and by a few vigorous
strbkes he saw that he was gaining.

This he did not wish to do, as he cared'only
to follow her 'to her retreat across the lake, for
she was heading over, to a dark wooded cliff
upon the other shore. '

Something at last seemed to tell her that an
eye wés upon her, for she glanced around and
beheld the canoe following her.

Instantly her srms’swayed more rapidly,
and the canoe fairly bounded forward. .

But Bruin was not to be thqu off so easily,
and he too sent his light canoe flying over the
quiet waters. _

For awhile he seemed not to gain upon the
woman, and then, after a mileha'd been gone
over, he saw that he was drawing nearer. ,

,This seemed to induce tongue out» part

 

hugetree, and drew,out,

of the’gbost, and finding thatshe was not able

1

, I ' i
av
.

 

to leave him behind, the youth slackened his‘

pace and the two canoes glided on at equal
speed, yet what was the power of locomotion
in the one before him Bruin Adams could not

guess.
At length, when the wooded cliff was not
faraway, and the white belt of sand at its

base glittered like silver in the moonlight, the ‘

youth put in his best strokes and landed but a
few lengths behind the white-robed form.

As her canoe struck the shore, at the base of
a large tree, she had bounde aIOng the sandy
beach toward a break in the clifl’.

But hot on her trail ran the youth, and
reachingI the canyon, he saw her white robe
fluttering as she sped on ahead up the hillside.

' Up the canyon she ran, turned, and sudden-
ly disappeared from sight in the shadow of the
overhanging clifl’. ‘

The next instant the boy reached the spot.
to suddenly start back, as, he beheld before
him, kneeling upon the ground, her arms
stretched forth toward him in supplicution,

the one he had been in chase of, and heard

from her lips the pleading cry; -,
“ Spare me, for the love of God!”

 

CHAPTER IX.
BEGIN sonvns rm: xvsmv. .

THE sudden appeal of the supposed specter
to Bruin Adams nonplused him completely.

He had followed the Specter of the Lake to
discover the strange secret and win the name
of hunting it down. "

He had not thought of pursuing a woman,
for he had hardly looked at her in that light,
so thoroughl y had her name become connected
with the supernatural.

Now he saw before him a womum. upon
whose pale, lovely face the moonlight fell, rec
vealing every feature distinctly.

Her form was slender and graceful,and clad
in garments of white woolen mate while
the waving cloak she wore was a
sweriug the place of a cloak.

Exactly what he had expected to find Bruin

did not know; but when he found a young and

beautiful woman appealing to him tospun her,
he certainly was completely abashed. r 'x ,

But when she repeated her appeal, as \he
stood silent before her, he said, quickly:

“I don’t want to harm you, miss, and only
followed you because folks said you was a
ghost” ,

“Ah,no, Iam real flesh and blood,,though
themare those who dearly wish I was in the

spiritland, and that is why I am hiding here, i

for I know not where else to go.” . ,

Her voice was soft end sweet, and its Moot
sadnes touched the boy’s ‘heart, and in mid,
quickly: , ' *

“Oh, yes, you cenflnda better placetolive
than here, for my parents would be glad to
have you at the farm.” ‘

“Youueverykind; do you live farle

here?"

“Yes, about tWelve miles' but I often cane
to the lake hunting and. fls‘
time I came to hunt for you”

“ For me?” she said, in sudden alum. _

“Yes, miss, for folks have seen you often,
andtbeycallyou theSpwterofthoIAkn.”~

“ Is that all?” ' '

“All! I think it’s enough,,m.isl, to he called

’a ghost.”
“ And you know nothing of moraine allied,
suspiciously. , , ,. ’
“Only that you are scaring the , county
people half out of their wits.” . ' 4
She laughed, and than said, slowly:
“I do not like this life, and if your parents

would let me live With them for awhile, Ir

would gladly go. , ' , ,
“gogthoroia my home, and I [intuit-u:-
self. ‘ ' ‘ ‘

she pointed to a snug little cabin of 
mincbmkugaimctbecuc,amwomdsys

fence, strongly made oflbng, slender-apnea
sethitbeground andtiodtogethor.

Togotintotheinslosurcsheopenoda unl\

misadushemdtheladwithinfi

at, en- ,

mint,

3/

 

It was a nosey spot, and showed taste and
ingenuity in the building.

The but was about ten feet square, compact-
ly built, and had a door and window. .

A chimney of clay was built against the did,
and upon the hearth were a few cooking uten-
sils, while a bunk, chair and table were the
only articles of furniture in the room.

A small rifle and shot gun hung on brackets
on the wall, and in her belt she carricda knife
and pistoL

:A few clothes hung on a peg, a pair of men's
boots of the smallest size were in the corner,
and a robin in a wicker cage completed the ob
jects of interest in the little cabin.

“Why do you live here?" asked the youth
with an emphasis upon the pronoun that
showed that it was interest, rather than curi-
osity that prompted the question.

. “ I will tell you when you take me to your
' home,” she said.

“ Then come now," was his reply.

She silently obeyed by' gathering together
what traps she needed, and saying calmly:

“ 1 am ready,” ,

He led her to the shore, and she stepped into

, ’ her canoe, while he went to his own. ’
, I As the two movod of! upon the waters,
' Bruin most anxiously gazed at the white
canoe toseo the "value operandi of its loco-
motion, and discovered that a small rope was
fastened securely to the root of the tree and
under water, and passed through rings in the
bow and stem of the light craft.
Standing up in the center the ghostly-look—
: ’ ' ing woman seized the rope and by pulling upon
' it, for “was fastened at the other end to the
shore nearly a third of a mile on, drew herself
along at a rapid rate.
r 1‘ I‘ thought I would avoid being sought
after, if I played ghost, and when men have
. followed me on shore, they have taken to their
heels, when they have seen'me glide over the
waters [without any seeming effort," she ex—
plained to Bruin. ' ‘ ,
Arriving at the other shore of the lake,
, Bruin securely hid both, canoes in the hollow
_ 'tree, and the two set OR to walk to the farm.
'5 I It was just sunrise when Bruin and his
" ghost "~ arrived in sight of the homestead,
" , and-“his tether and mother, who saw him com-
” \ ing, gazed upon the strange being by his side
" with a great deal of awe and even more curl.

.“

osity. r -
, But their hearts were in the right place, and
they gave the young woman welcome, and than
l , heard'h'er story of how she had been left an
’ heiress by her father, and an uncle had be.
conicthe executor of her estate and her guar-
dial); _ ' . ;
.Heho‘d taken her to his home, and,” the
will, if she died, left him the property, he and
. his‘wife had entered into a base plot to get her
‘ odtof the way. ' i ‘ '
7“ " They dared not kill her, so they said she was
, _ crazy, locked her in a close room, and at last
 were taking her to an asylum, when she as-
. came” .
She feared toga where she would be seen,
and determined to live alone in the woods.

. So she bought what things she needed,
.. . founda'retired place on the lake and built her
 u , little cabin, and there, for one year, had dwelt

alone.
' , Raving espoused her cause Bruin did not let
_ ‘ "the matter rest, but sought the heme of her
' uncle and guardian, and found himself and
family reveling in the wealth of the poor girl.
‘ ' He was a shrewd boy and he at once put the
entire case. in‘ the hands of a distinguished
young lawyer, _who put detectives to work to
hunt ups-laws, and himself returned with the

. youth and heard the whole story from the lips

of the persecuted girl. ,
Deeply impressed “with her beauty the young
lawyer setto work, and two months after he
-' won the oaseagainst- her creel uncle.
 ‘fBjut the romance did not end there, for
Gracei'li‘leld, the hidden, reunited at the

' Adam.th until she was claimed as the

bride  young lawyer, and Bruin was not

”I

l

‘ .

: l l I

 

only the “ best man,” though but sixteen years
of age, but won greater fame for having
bravely hunted down the mystery of the
Specter of the Ldke. ‘

 

CHAPTER X.
A FIGHT WITH A nasmsno.

Six months after the romance of.’ the Specter
of the Lake, Death stalked boldly into the
Adams homestead, and, not content with lay-
ing low the noble old farmer, laid his icy
touch also upon the pulse of his devoted wife,
ere her husband had grown cold in his grave.

It was a bitter blow to poor Bruin. and, as
soon as a married sister moved to the farm to
take care of it as half-heir, the boy determined
to start for the Far West to look up his uncle,
“ Old Grizzly, the Bear Tamer of the Rocky
Mountains," of whose daring deeds in that
wild land many stories daily found their way
to the scenes of.his boyhood.

Like a bride who does not care to go dower-
less to her husband, Bruin was not willing to
seek his uncle as though he had come for a. sup-
port, so he took great pains in getting up an
outfit for his trip.

His bear-skin had been most thoroughly
dressed, and served as a bed, and he bought
several very elegant blankets for himself and
as presents to his uncle.

A pair of revolvers, a superb rifle and bowie-
knifc, plenty of ammunition, also as presents
to Old Grizzly, with numerous other articles
of use and comfort, were packed on a stout
horse, which Bruin denominated his “pack-
mule.”

Mounting a. wiry little animal, a late pur-
chase of his own, and with just two hundred
dollars in his pocket, Bruin set forth on his
trip to the West.

Until his horses were pretty well fagged he
traveled along the roads.

But, upon arriving at Toledo he drove a
shrewd bargain with the railroad agent for
the transportation, of himself and horses to
Chicago. ' , .

He bought food for his horses, got a supply
of crackers and cheese for himself, and an occu-
pant of a box-car startedon his travels by rail,
which was a novelty to him, as his only other
experience of the kind was when he had gone
to to Albany thwart the schemes of the treacher—
ous uncle of the maiden who had figured as the
Specter of the Lake. ,

It was a tedious and long ride, but the boy
did not mind it, and was at last set down in
Chicago, assuredly a stranger in a strange land.

But Bruin was by no means a greenhorn,
and soon get “accommodathns for man and
beast,” and devoted himself to sight-seeing for
several days. '

Then he again started on his way, riding
through the country, and after long weeks
upon the road arrived in Denver without ad-
venture. _

There he became quickly initiated into wild
border life, by a ruilian who sought a difficulty
with him by insulting remarks. , ,

Bruin saw that the man was intoxicated,
and wished to avoid trouble, so left the bal-
cony where he was seated, although several
voices called out to him:

“Don’t back, youngster, or you won’t dare
show yerself in these heur parts." ‘ ,

Bruin was not afraid of the man, and con-
scious of his strength, in spite of his youth, felt
confident that he could whip his insulter in a
fair fight, and was fully as good a shot, should
it come to pistols; but he was not of a quarrel-
some nature, and determined not to be drawn
into a fracas just to please a lot of idle loafers.

But the bully followed him into the office of
the tavern, at which he was stopping, and
deliberame snatched from his hands a paper

he had picked up to read, while he said:

“'Lookn-heur, youngster, I ‘were a-cafe—

‘ohisln’ yer, an’ you walked off while I were a:

talkin", to I wants yer fer understan’. thet’I
are a kins, 91'0qu hennan‘hain’t tor be

‘ Inflated; "

 

  GrinzlyAdams’ Boy Pard.  fl \ I ‘ « ‘ ‘

“If you don‘t leave, me alone, you’ll find'I
won’t slight you,” said the youth, quietly.

“Now what would one like you do wltha
man like me?" sneared the bully.

“ Do you want me to show you!”

“ Yes." .
“Well, as I have had cause enough I think
will.” ‘

And with the words the hard fist of the
youth shot out, and the man went heels over
head into the corner.

“Did a mule kick yer, Fred?”

“ Say, Fred, yer hes tumbled down.”

These cries, and more of them, came from
the crowd, as the half-stunned and decidedly
astonished bully arose slowly, his hand upon
his revolver.

But ere the “ Look-cut, boy," came from one
of the crowd, Bruin saw his act, and leaping
upon him with the spring of a panther, wrested
the weapon from his hand. and then rained
blows into his evil face until he fell over in«
sensible.

“ Boy, take the advice of a man who means
you well, and levant cut of this town afore
Fred the Boss ‘comes to, for he’ll have your
life,” said a man, in a kindly tone, coining u
to the youth. , v

“ I thank you, sir, but I am not to be scared
out of town by any bully.

“ I came to stay here several days and 1
shall stay.”

“ He is a. desperate fellow, and better with
his weapons than his fists.” .

“I should pity him if he wasn’t; but if he
comes on me again I’ll not use my fists upon,
him, though I want no trouble with him."

Then others of the crowd came around the
youth, and be was congratulated upon all sides
for the very elegant manner in which he had
punished a man who was a perfect terror in
the town, and never content unless in a diffi—
culty. .

In the mean time the intimate friendsof the
bully soon fetched him round all right, and
at once he went on the search for the youth,
and with blood in his eye and murder invhis
soul. v . '

Bruin had been strolling through the town,
accompanied by the man who had warned him
against the bully, and the .eyes of the latter
suddenly fell upon the ruifian , approaching
with several of his intimates. at his heels. .

“Come into this store, for yonder comes
Fred the Boss, and he does not see you.’_’ ,

“I shall not runirom him, and if, he is
looking for me, this is a good place 101',th to
find me, and the trouble will be over," said the
youth, firmly.

“ You are a game youngster,  I‘ll 888
you through

“How are you on we draw?" said his new-
found friend. V , , .

“ I’m pretty good, I guess.”

” And on the shot?”

“ I’m a good shot.” ~ _ V

“ Well, be ready, and don’t let him, get'fliev
drop on you, for he’s heart-sure every tuna

“Seehow you punished him, for he looks
like he’d been in a prize-flght,”fland the man
alluded to the buily’s face, which was patched
up with court-plaster, and considerablysWol-
len, while one was half-closed.

Bruin made no reply, and as they drew
nearer, his friend said:

“Well, he’ll make a sick-looking corpse. if
you kill him.” ,

it was now evident to every one on the
street that there was going to be trouble, and
the friends walking by the side of Fred the '
Boss mparated quickly from him, as all saw
the youth approaching.

As for Bruin. he walkedcalmly along, his
new-found friend by his side, and his' eyes fee»
toned upon his enemy. r ‘

They were both on the same side of the
street, and must pass within a foot ‘of each
other, unless one or the otherfidrew a weapon; '
and the very attempt would precipitate mate

When'within about twelve paces 'ofi 

 

, u

' Bruin rams, Old Grizzly Adams’ Boyraraj _ _ * p . ,7;

 

youth, Fred the Boss dropped his hand upon
his revolver, drew it out and fired.

Whether the whipping he had received stifl-
ened his arm, and his swollen eye had its sight
dhnmed, no one knew; but certain it is, that,
quick as was his act, and he was noted for
quickness in drawing and emptyingarevolver,
Bruin had his weapon leveled hardly a second
hter, and while the bully’s bullet merely chip-
ped a piece out of his hat, his ball struck dead-
eenter in the forehead of the desperado, who
sunk dead in his tracks.

CHAPTER XI.
n! run HANDS or run among.

Hrs killing of the desperado in Denver
gained for Bruin a notoriety he did not like by
any means, for he hated to win fame through
takig the life of a human being.

The stranger, with him, and who had proven
a friend, happened to be a United States de-
tective, and his evidence was sufficient to clear
the youth in the eyes of the authorities, and
he was dismimed from the oflice of the justice
in ten minutes, with thanks for having rid the
country of a very dangerous character.

The name of the Boss Boy was at once he—
stowed upon the young hero, and he was aux-
ious to escape ‘the sycophants who gathered
around him, and soon bade farewell to the
town and started on to the mountains to find
his uncle.

He had met several who knew Old Grizzly
Adams as a hunter of the Rocky Mountains,
with a camp somewhere near the head—watersof
the north fork of the Platte, river and be deter-
mined to set out on his journey and find him,
undeterred by the dangers of themed he would
have to travel. ’

His pack-horse had broken down, and he had

 

'to purchase another animal, which left him

with but a few dollars, after a few other pur-
chases he made: but his riding—horse was as
good as ever, and having been thoroughly
rested by his delay in Denver, Bruin deter-
mined to lose no longer time.

As his uncle was pretty well known as a
strange character and a great hunter, he did
not) anticipate much trouble in finding him,
for he had bee directed to different mining
and hunting ca ps on the way, where he could
learn something more respecting the exact
whereabouts of Old Grizzly.

The first night out from Denver he went into
a solitary camp of! the trail a little distance,
and, after looking after the welfare of his
horses, was about to make himself comfortable,
when suddenly there came a swish, and a coil
of rope settled over his shoulders, and he was
dragged to the ground, his arms pinioned to
his side. '

In an instant he could have thrown 03 the
lariat thus thrown around him, had not several
men sprung from behind the shelter of a huge
bowlder and thrown themselves upon him.

‘ The boy fought nobly, and was hard to con-
qner, but there were five to one
Llnst he was securely bound. ,

you the one they call the Boss Boy in
Deliver?” asked one of his captors, a heavily-
bearded ruillan armed to the teeth. ‘

“I believe that is the name they gave me,
for 513118 '5!!!“ such a wretch as you are,” was
the cool reply of the youth.

“PM. be are the one, so thur is no use
(:hlnnin’ with him, as I were thar an’ seen him
hill poor Fred,” said another.

“ I did not deny i ” boldly replied Bruin,

“Then that are all we wants, for it saves a
trial.”

“ A trial?” ,

, “ Yes, for we was goin’ ter give ya; a may
for kiilln’ Fred, our dear pard, as ther jedge
let yer ofl'; but as yer-says yer kill: him it jest
settles ther matter an’ we pronounces yer minty,

“New, pards, what are ter be did with this
hell? kame‘cock 2'” and the speaker turned to his
1021' vTrialnous-looking’coxnpsnions.

‘Kill' him, ” came the savage cry. ‘
Ilsit tor hedldl” queried the 

u

,m

aginst him, I

 

“Thar are my lariat,” said one. ‘

“An’ hour are a tree,” remarked a second.

“We is here ter drag him up,” put in a
third ‘

“ An’ he are present ter be hung," was the
remark of the last of the four to whom the
question had been put as to what should be
done with the youth. Bruin had heard of
border justice and injustice, and the wild deeds
of wilder men; but he could not believe that
when he killed a man in self-defense, as he
had done, and who had sought him for trouble
alone, and forced it upon him, that he would
be deliberately hanged for it by a gang of des-
peradoes.

But one searching look into their evil faces
proved to him that they were in deadly earn-
est, and that he need expect no mercy at their
hands.

Beg for his life he would not, andth he saw
no avenue of escape, for he was wholly in their
power, bound securely, and in their hearts
dwelt not an atom of mercy, if .the faces he
gazed upon were any criterion.

 

CHAPTER XIL.
A sraANGER HAS consume 'ro SAY.
HAVING determined upon theii‘ cause, and
which in fact was already settled, as the des-
peradoes did not care to avenge Fred the Boss
half as much as they wished to rob the youth,

the gang of rufllans hastily proceeded to work. .

First, thoylthrew the lariat over a stout
limb, and then put the coil around the neck of
the youth. '

Like a statue Bruin stood, pale, but unflinch-
ing, in spite of his having given up all hope of
life.

' It was just sunset, and the tops of the distant
hills were yet bathed in rosy light, the birds
were singing merrily in the trees, and his two
horses fed near by, wholly unconcerned at the
danger of their master.

Back from. that scene flew the thoughts of
the youth, to the old farm near Seneca Lake,
and the joys he had known thei-e in the by-
gone. ' '

He was then a little boy, listening to the
stories told of his uncle, Old Grizzly, in his
wild life upon the frontier; and one by one the
scenes of the past floated before him.

His adventures, his mail-riding days, his
hunts, his joys, all came 11 from the past, and
then his eyes Seemed to in rly behold the green
mounds in the little church-de where slept
his loved parents, and he was glad that they
were dead, so as never to know what bitter
fate had befalleu him. ’ ,

From these reveries he was ruder awakened
by one of the men approaching him with a sin-
ister leer upon his face. .

There was something about the man that
caused Bruin to feel that he had met him be-
fore, and under disagreeable circumstances,
but when and where he could not then recall.

“ You don't know me, boy?” said the man, in
a hoarse tone.

“No, and yet it seems I have met you be-
fore.” -

“Suppose I cut this beard oil, dress up in
black, put on a white neck-tie, and—3"

“Jupiter! you are that fellow that played
the parson joke on me,” cried Bruin, excitedly.

“I am," was the cool reply.

“ I wish I was free from this rope, and I’d
get even with you,” and Bruin in vain tried to
twist his hands out of the coils that held them.

“ But you can’t get free, and I will get even
with you,” said the man, with a‘ heartless
laugh. ’

“ I never wronged you.” i

“ You think so?”

“I know so.” .

“ You are mistaken, my fine fellow, for you
kept me from getting money I had plotted and
planned to have.” ‘ ' 3

“I did but my duty; for I saw your blow
coming, too lsteto dodge it, amino spurred‘my
horse and he outrun you." .

. \

 

“I was in hopes I had killed you, for, by
not getting that money, I was compelled to
procure it in another way, and in doing so to
have mysolf take life. _ .

“I got caught, boy, was sentenced to the
gallows, and only escaped the day before my
execution by the burning down of the jail.

“I came here, and have gone from bad to
worse, until I am now what you see me—a
road-agent, despeme and all else that was bad,
while, it I had gotten the money I knew you
can-led that day, I could have replaced what I
had taken from the bank, and all would have
been well.”

“No, indeedy, for you’d have stolen more
and again gotten into trouble, so don’t blame
me.” v
“ But I do blame you, and you shall die for
it, and I will be avenged for what you mule-- »
me.” »

“And you kill me because you were so weak
and wicked as to do wrong, and I, in doingmy
duty, prevented you from a greater mime?”
and the youth spoke with a tone of sarcasm
that greatly angered the man, for he called
out: i .

" Come, yards, I don’t want any more of lip
from this young game—cock, so up with him.”

The men at the other end 0! the lariat in-
stantly gave a, strong pull. and the feet of the
struggling youth were about leaving the
ground when a stranger appeared suddenly
upon the scene, and stepping out from behind
the huge bowlder, his rifle across his arm, said, -
in a quaint way: ,

“Did yer speak let me, nerds?” «" -

“ Who the devil are you?” savagely demand-
ed the man who had been talking to Bruin,
and had given the order to hang him. ‘

“ I are a stranger from Strangerville, an‘ i.
hes come ter git acquainted with you neigh-
bars,” was the unmoved reply of the man. ‘

 

CHAPTER XlII. - i

BBUIN ADAMS Has m TABLES row on

“WELL, you’ll get better acquainted
you like, if you don’t levant out of this and
mind your own business,” was the a’ngryretort
of the leader of thedesper'adoes. v

All eyes had turned upon the stranger, at
his sudden and unexpected appearance, even to
Bruln’s, for the larlat had been loweredand
the youth again stood firmly upon his feet. ‘

“Iloves sofliybil’ty, gents, an’ I are glad.
ter henr yer speak so, an’as yer tells me ter
mind my biz I’ll do it, dog-goned éf I don’t, by
askin’ yer ter interjooce me ter ther han‘somfe ,
young teller yer were about tar h’ist up as I
corned from ahind thet bowlder.” ' ‘

The man was one ,who would attmct atten-
tion anywhere, from the lion—like strength, and ,
tiger-like agility he seemed to possess in his
tall form. ‘

His shoulders were broad and perfectly
square, his waist, around which was buckled a '
belt of arms, was exceedingly small, his feet
and hands an exquisite might have been proud
of, andyet his face was byno means hands
some, covered with a short, iron-gray beard,
and yet full of stem resolution and daring.

His eyes were small, black as ink, bright and '
restless, and his hair hung upon his shoulders, ,
and was streaked with silver. ' , ,

He wore a buckskin hunting-shirt, fringed
leggins, stout boots, and a wolf-skin cap, with
the head of the wolf and its grinning teeth in
front, and tail hanging down behind. V * ,

His weapons were two old double-barrel pis-
tols, a bowie-knife, and a long title, and the
latter was cooked, threwn across his arm and
ready for use.

"‘ Well, you better not interfere here“ old
man, or you’ll get what you don’t went,"sald
the leader of the gang, and his four comrades
charmed: ' I ‘ ‘

“'I‘hetareso, pard‘Wolf Hat.” . W ’

The old mansmiled as sweetlyal thbughhe '
burger-do compliment paid him, and an—

. I
, .

i

 

  

‘ \

\

 

“ Yer axed me who ther devil I are?”
“Yes, and what you want heur.”

“I’ll tell yer, pards.

“ Hes yer ever heur tell 0’ Old Grizzly. ther

B’ar Tamer o’ ther Rockies?”

“ Old Grizzly?"

The name was echoed in a chorus, and Bruin
Adams spoke it too.

" Yes, I are Old Grizzly, an’ of yerhos heard
0’ me, yer knows I haiu’ttther chicken-hearted
galoot ter stsn’ right heur an’ see yer hang
thet young teller."

' “ How can you bender us, for hanging him
for murdering one of our comrades?”

“‘ Waul, of he hed kilt ther gang 0' yer, he’d
hev done good service; but on yer axes ther
question, I’ll jist reply thet ther man as teches
thet rope ag’in 'll be food 'fer wolves the
second he do it, for I hes ther drop on yer

' all with ole Iron Killer hour, an’ of yer hes
eyes yer’ll obsarve I hev two 0’ her young ’uns
in my belt,” and he patted his rifle and pistols
alfect’onaiely.

There was not one of the desperudocs present
who had not heard of Old Grizzly Adams of
the Rocky mountains, and the stories of his
bearing a charmed life were such, added tohis
superhuman strength, deadly aim, and ferocity
in a fight, that though having every advantage
in the way of numbers they did not care to try

‘ conclusions with him, and feeling that they
were all of one mind, after a glance around him,
the leader said:

“We lmow you, Grizzly Adams, and we
want no trouble with you, for we respect you
as s'good man and a great hunter."

h m m"

“ But this young man shot down one of our
penis in, Denver t’other day, and We have
caught him, and are going to hang him.”

“That must hev been yer intenshun, pards,
but yer hev changed yer mind, for I says ther
boy don’t die at this time, or, of he do, he’ll
hev oomp’ny, an’ I’ll be left as a mourner."

“These men lie to you, uncle Grizzly, for
you are my father’s brother, as I am J. F. C.

and was going to find you." ,

. The words fell like an electric shock upon
Old Grimly; but his innate caution made him
keep his outward calmness and say in a quiet
toner

“ You is who?"

, “ son of your brother‘ John, of Seneca

Inks." ’

“You was a baby when I left home?”

I “Yes, uncle."

“I has hedtwo letters from that old place in

their past ten years, an' they said you was rid-

in’ mail."

“ You, I was mall-rider f

“Aha! and when did
homer ,

“ Three months ago."

“And all well, boy?"

, Li"‘l(y parents are dead."

- " Dead! your daddy and your mommy is
deadl" I “ .

“ Yes, uncle.” ,

“ I declar’ that are suthin’ wrong with my

0

a year.”
on leave the old

3 eyes, boy, fer—hold on thar, yer pesky var

mints, for I haiu’t blind, or thar be real tears

'in my eyes, an’durn yer catamount souls I‘ll
sen' yer tor ther devil in a b’sr‘s wag o’ the:-
tail, of yer even winks."

L 'l'hie sudden warning, to the despersdoes, two
0! whom had sought to take advantage of the
sad news from the old hunter’s home, to draw
their weapons on the sly, eflectully checked
such intention.

“ I tell yer, boy, yer hits thcr old man hard
in tellin' him yer good daddy an’ mummy hev
handed in their, chips; but we’ll talk 0’ that
ng’in, when these he~wolves haln’t snitlln1
round. ‘ _

“Sayer comed out he’ur ter find ther ole
man, did yer; hoi hol hel”‘and the old hunter

‘ chuckled with apparent delight.

u Ye‘rnnde‘n \ ‘

v“ThenIhosturnedthartablesonyem-, for I
has found you. boy,”'and the old man laughed
again. . y , l

l . . . |

/

!

 

\

“Bruin Adams, 01d" Grizzly Adams’ Boy Para.

. ___._....__._..______....___. ._ .a. 

_ CHAPTER XIV.
ACCOMMODA'rrNG A DESPERADO.

Tim laughter of Old Grizzly, was evidently
intended to hide deeper feeling, which the
coming of his nephew had caused to well 'up in
his throat and almost choke him.

Thrice he attempted to speak, and each time
he could hardly control his emotion, so he felt
he must act, and at once he shouted:

“Say, heur, ye infernal varmints, that are
my nevvy, all ther way from York State, nn’
bein’ a. oi'phin, he hev corned heur ter find his
uncle, and I are thet same, so I ’vises yer all
ter git, or, by ther bones 0’ Daniel Boone, I’ll
shoot yer as I would a. wolf."

“ The boy may be your nephew, Old Grizzly,
but he is my foe, and I have a. score to settle
with him, which, if he has any pluck, he’ll give
me a chance to get square with him, as I have
sworn revenge against him."

“Washer yer hes swored to it, and yer is
willin' ter act squar’, I guess he’ll accommo-
date yer, or’he haiu’t no kin o’ mine, for our
fambly come 0’ a. gritty stock, as nobody ever
know’d in Adams tor back out o’ a diiflkilty.”

“I Will meet the man, uncle, in any way
he wishes, though lie-seeks revenge against me,
because he did not rob the mail one day of
enough money to keep him out of jail."

“ Ohl that are that reason, are it?

“Waul, boy pard, yer kin meet ther gent,
an’ at yer don’t shoot daylight through him, I
will; an’ of he kills yer, then I’ll bore a hole
clean through him too, so let ther revenge biz
wag lively along.”

All the time he had been standing there Old
Grizzly had not lost sight of any movement of
the desperadoes, and now. as he spoke, and
still ‘ keeping his eye upon them, he walked
forward and quickly, out the bonds that bound
the youth. '"

“ Waal, now let us hev this leetle biz over,
an’ then we parts oomp’ny with these tellers,
nevvy.”

The desperadoes, held at boy by one man,
seemed now to give up all hope of hanging and
robbing the youth, for they knew his prOWess,
and with his uncle to aid him, felt that their
chances for victory would be slim indeed.

With one exception and that one the mail-
robher, they were an errant set of cowards,
and he had promised them the spoils, if they
would aid him in revenging himself upon the
youth.

Seeing that their spoils wore now out of the
question, he was determined that he should not
be cheated out of his share, the revenge, and
boldly ofl'ered to fight ‘he youth, and Bruin
was equally as willing to met him, for he
wished his uncle to is“ s that be Boy Pard he
had adopted was by no means a greenhorn, a
coward or a slouch, in border parlance.

“ Nevvy, you jist arrange terms ter suit,
with thet dog-goncd gerloot, an’ I’ll jist stun’
heur un’ see that that biz works smooth, fer
things 0‘ this kind gite hitches in ’em some-
times ef ye hain‘t worry partic’lar."

“ What is your proposition, sir?" asked
Bruin, turning to the leader of the despera-
does.

“That you meet me as man to man."

“ Man tor boy, yer means," said Old Grizzly.

“Ila is no he , old man."

” No, we is a torward race, we Adamses; all
of us pow‘tul peert from the:- cradle."

“ I offered to meet you on your own terms,"
remarked Bruin Adams, who had stooped and
picked up his belt of arms, from where one of.
the men had thrown it.

“ With pistols?"

“With what you please.”

“That’s ther talk, Boy Ferd; meet him with
claws of he says so.”

“ With knives?" queried the outlaw.

is Yes.» ' i

“ That’s biz, yer cussed varmint, so say what
it‘s for be.” ,

“You are not to interfere, old man?" and
the outlaw turmd to Old Grizzly. -

“I never interferes in a squar’ fight, of it’s
my own brother as is glttlu' heated."

\

 

l

I

“ Very well, we will my pistols, and at
filteen paces.”

“ I are content," replied Bruin, though he
was delighted at this choke, for he had had no
experience in' a knife combat, though would
boldly have met his enemy with one, had
knives been chosen.

“ Step out ther distance, one of yer gerloots,
fer I is axshus ter hev ther fun over, so I kin
heur all ther news from Old Seneca.”

“ If luck favors me. you'll hear no news
from there, old man, other than you have
heard," savagely said the outlaw.

“Yer’ll go to yer grave athinkin‘ it went
ag’in’ yer, or I don’t know a cinnamon b’ar
from a grizzly,” said the old hunter, and as he
saw that his words worried the man, be con-
tinned:

“ Ther Adamses was all born with good
eyes, pard, an’ it that boy can’t send a bum;
what he aims it, ’tis acause he’s (-nckeyed, an'
squintin' don’t run in our family.”

One of the band now stepped the distance of
fifteen paces off. for the outlaws were anxious
to get away, as they had nothing to gain by
remaining.

Had it been any other than Old Gfiizly
Adams, he would not have had it his own way
altogether, at least without a trial of conclu-
sions, but his namo was a perfect terror in the
mines and on the plains, and it would be a
bold man that would face him, even with great
odds in his favor.

As soon as the distance was measured ofl.’
Bruin Adams coolly took his stand, and with
revolver in hand, turned and faced his too,
who was also ready.

“Boy Pard, I gives the count up ter five,
and at five yer shoots; at that gerloot M
store, I shoots him!

“ And it I kill him, what then?"

“ Ef it are done squar’ I hes nothin’ tor any
ag’in’ it; but you’ll allers find me a leetle quash
relsome whenever we meets after it,” was the
frank reply of Old Grizzly.

“ All right; I am content.

“If he kills me. pitch me into a hole into
rocks; butI am uotemantolookon thedatk
side of life," and the outlaw smiled.

“I am glad ter see yer is «For grit, a! yer
be a bad man; but hour goes, an' look out both
of ye.”

Both men stood at a ready, the man cool
and reckless, and the boy seemingly indfler-
ent. ‘

Slowly the old hunter counted, and all aux-
iously watched the result, while he, after a
quick glance at his nephew, eyed the outlaw,
whom he had in a line with the other desper-
adoes, and kept his rifle ready for use.

At the word fire, the two revolvers lashed
,togother, the report being like one pistol.

A slight ejaculation broke from Old ‘Griuly's
lips as he saw his nephew turn himself round,
and he saw that he was. hit—how‘bcdl‘y, he
could not tell.

Then He eyes turned upon the outlaw, whose
face had become livid, and \whose. arm bed
(allen to his side, though still grasping his
revolver. \ .

Twice he essayed to speak, but each tine
utterance failed him, until, With a migw
eflort there burst from his lips: -

“ Gurse you, ,boy, I’ve got my death wound,
and you shall have yoursl”

He hastily raised his pistol as he. spoke, but
it fell from his hand, which a bullet had dat-
tered. for Old Grizzly's rifle had belched forth,
quick as was the not of the outlaw. '

The man tried to speak, but it was in vain, >

and, raising his shattered and bleeding hand,
he shook it fiercely at the old hunter and tel
forward upon his face, dead ere he struck the
ground, for the bullet 'sent by the youth had
cut its way through his heart.

“Boy Pard, yer did' that prime; but what
are that extent 0’ ther damage he has did yer!"
and 01d Grizzly gazed upon the youth.

“The bullet hit me here, uncle, jun over
my heart, but I was saved by this book 'my
poor mother gave me," and the youth 

 

l _
l
x
l
i

 

 

a

 

 

“are...” MA .

“A...

l
l

l

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, u l

"  Adams; Old Grizzly Adams’ .Boy P

are, l ",9

 

cg . ....

 

out a. small Testament, in which was imbedded
the bullet. ’
“It are a Testimint of ther Gospil, sure as

, pmuchin’, an’ it hev saved you, Boy Pard,

tho’ that bullet hev out deep into ther twelve
apostles. ..

“ But I guess we’d better leave these gents
ler do funeral service 0’ their pard, While we
hoops it on toward that camps, as I hes some
purchases ter make for my b'ars.”

The youth readily consented, and as it was
now almost dark, he got his horses and the two
departed, leaving the dead body in the charge
of his outlaw oomradee.

CHAPTER XV.
om GRIZZLY m His 80? Pm.

AFTER goingn couple of hundred yards, from
the Spot where the scene just related occurred,
the old hunter and his nephew came to where
a horse was dimly visible, browsing upon the
juicy grass, and a dog laying near him, evx-
dently acting as a, guard. ‘

“Here be my friends, Boy Nevvy, as yer
see: this hour are Git Thar, my old hoes, en’
a better traveler hnin’t in ther Rocldes, while
he hoin’t so doggoned slow nuther, fer yer see
he hev worry flue points”,

Bruin glanced at the raw-boned animal,
whose points were visible in the dim light, and
said innocently:

' "‘ He has indeed, uncle.”

“ Yer is u jedge ohhoss flesh, Boy Patti, I
sees, for Git Thar are all I says he are.

“An’ this critter are Calamity, my dorg,
an’he hev got real down hoes sense, for he
kin do all thet human kin, berriu’ talkin’.

“Yerseeheuregludterseeyerfiho? he hev
no tail to wag, fer a b‘ar, chawod it 06 oust,

,un’ it huin’t grew’d out again.

“ flee, he know: I are talkin’ about him, an’
be will be yer blend, outer this interdueehnn

I has give yer."

“Now tell me, Boy Pard, whar- was yer
goin’ when I come nigh an’ sees how yer was
fixti”

“To find you, uncle.” '

f‘Wunl, l hev saved yer thet trouble; now

.tell me what did yer want; with me?”

“ To ask you to let me live with you."

“You kin, I declar' tar gracious, tor yer is
my own blood,nnd I’ll beadnddy and mommy
both to ye .

“Yer is clean grit, as I has seen, un' yer
kin shoot for a barbecue an' no mistake, so

_phmk yergfipperin mycluw an’sw’nr weis
yards."

“the youth willingbv’ grasped his uncle’s hand,
and then Old Grizzly continued: '

“ I are goin’ up to ther mines, whar they hm
a sutler, tar git some chains ter tote back {or
my b’m"

“Chains, uncle?”

“Yes, for I needs ’em (or ther b’mu, as yer
will see.

“Now we’ll git back a mile or two up this
hour canyon uu’ camp for ther night, for I is
been made domed hungry by ther pow’iul bad
new-'9 yerhes tole me. ' ‘

. “It hev kinder shrinked my heart up, Boy
PEN: an‘ I. hev tor hev some grub, so come
along."

They With mounted their horses, and utter a
ride of a mile the old hunter drew reins upon

. the bank or a. mall stream, “where there was a

(3096" spot, Bhelberod by large bowlders, and a.
most secure and delightful place to camp.

As saunas the horses were pioketed out, they
built a fire, and each produced his bag of provi~
sions, and a hearty meal was indulged in, after
which Old Grizzly said: ' \

“an I are filled up, I kin talkto yer,

' spell, Boy Paird. ~V

“ Yer say ther old folks in dead?”

“Yes, uncle." _

“lure pow’ful sorry; but I guesses it were
that time not down in ther Big Book tor on}!

'man' thu- am named a kickin’ ug’in’it,
,Mywui’lhmgutter'terhourtoeeupeonm

- .9. '_
,1 ,1

.‘ ‘ 
' e

 

“ Now tell me, does ther old home look
nat’ral I” . '

“ Yes, uncle, all is as you left it fifteen years
ago, excepting father improved it consider-
ably.” ‘

“ I guess so; and settlers gittin’ too thic
thnr now to live healthy, I guesses?”

“We have some neighbors around us, but
none nearer than a mile.” '

“ Nearer than a. mile, Boy Perri? Why that
huin’t hreuthin’ room fer me.

“ Up whar I lives in ther Rockies that“
hadn’t no neighbor nearer ’n forty mile, an’ I
is a. leetle crowded.

“ I hates ter hev close neighbors, for I loves
ther air 0’ ther mountains an’ tber pamrers
that hain’t being breathed in continual.

“I hes a kinder pleasant shanty, an! yer is
welcome ther; but I don’t want no neighbors
’ceptin’ my b’ars, Git Thar, Calamity an’ rich.

“I are goin’ to ther sutler’s, as I tole yer,
ter~morrer, un’ yer kin jist wait for me hour,
an’ then we’ll ride on tergether to that moun-
tains. '

“Now let us turn in."

“ First,- nnole, let me give you what I
brought you in the way of weapons, blankets,
clothing and other articles you will need.”

“ Why, I has weepins an’ a blanket en’——”

“ Your rifle and pistols are old-fashioned,
and I have brought you a rifle you can shoot
very rapidly, and revolvers.” I

“ I hes heard 0’ them kind; but is they good!"

“ You saw what mine did this evening?”

“ Yes, it struck dead center, an’ no mistake.”

“And that blanket you' have has been
patched with wolf, bear and fox skins."

“ Yes, it are patched some, Iadmits, un’ ell
keeps on, it will be all skin an’ no blenkit; but
it are that warmerer for that, Boy. Para.”

“ Well, I brought you. a bear skin, and I
killed thebearmyeeit,"aald~ the-youth, proudly.
“ I hey hilt five hundred of ’em, my boy."

Bruin was slightly mutilation let this; but he
unfastened his pack and displayed histreasures
to the astonished eyes of the old hunter.

“ First the rifle was examined most critical-
ly, and then the revolvers and, splendid bowie-
kuiie came in for their share.

Next came the bear skin, so highly prized,
and this was cast aside with a shrug at the
shoulder and the remark: -

“ That were u sickly cub, I reckons."

“ It was an old bear, and she had cubs,
which I captured and raised and sold to n cir-
cus man. for twenty dollars.” 1

“I’d sell ’em agrime [er ten, an” a
men tor five.

“That were a good b’ar, Boy Ford, for a
circus, I don’t deny, but if were but a cub for
these hour mountains, as you will diskiVer.

“These blankets be as
bed, 1111' for these heur clothes I is thankful;
but I guess I’ll trade ther coat nn’ pants 01! for
powder, as of ther b’ars seen me in that suit
they’d ohaw me upter a person, sartin as eatin’.

“ We kin make ourselves most comfortable
with all these fixin’s, an’ we will hev good
time

“Yer is a good boy, some he was yer mo-
ther an‘ rather afore yer, an' I loves yer fer

the: sake, un’ fer yer own, too, an’ I'll fight

fer’yer at that drop 0’ a but.
“ Now let us try these hour blankets, an' of
they don’t make me sleep prime I are no judge.”
Leaving Calamity on guard, the uncle and
nephew turned in and were soon sleeping
soundly, Bruin being wholly at rest, now that
he had found his famous old kineman.

CHAPTER XVI.
run nun or ow damn.
Ar the request of his uncle, Bruin-Adams
waited at the camp the next day, until his re-
turn from the sutler’s store.

Old Grlmly bade Calamity, a cross between V.

a bull-dog and ab meetifl, to remain and get
acquainted, “ with my novvy, one 0’ our rum-
bly,’{u he expressed it,  the stump-ulna
dug obeyed without any trouble.

r

prime as a feather

 

Toward sunset the old hunter returned, and
Git/Phat was pretty well loaded down with
heavy chains and padlocks, which the hunter
had purchased of the Butler. ' .

Bruin quietly aided in taking them 01! of the
middle, but refrained from asking any ques»
tions regarding their use; though he could not
conjecture what was to be done with them.

After another night spent in the pleasant
camp, the two started for the home of the oil
hunter, and in a day’s time arrived in the very
heart of the mountains. ‘

Bruin well knew that around them wore

hostile Indians, longing for the scalp of his 

uncle, but he seemed to feel no dread of the
danger, when gazing upon the fearless face of
the old veteran, who had lived in the midst of
cruel tees for many years. and defied they: all. '

“ Does yer see that pile o’ rocks, Boy Par-d?”
andVOld Grizzly poian as he spoke to a lofty
point of the mountain, rising above the adjoin-
ing hille

“Yes, uncle.”

“ Wadi, thar’ are my den."

.“Among these rocks?"

“ Yes; it are rough lookin‘ from hour. ht

iroxnthe inside it are not sobed,usyervl~

“But I he? been gone three days, n‘ l
’lowed tar be gone but two, an’ 1' glucose
flinristherdeviltorpay upinthemrooh just»
now.” '

“ Do you think any 'one has mum
home, uncle?"

“ Nary, for of they did they w’n’drr‘tr my
long, now I kin sw’nr upon that shouted “-
mint yer hes in yer boeom pocket.” * ’

“ You then have some one to take me of
the place in your absence?”

“Boy I? Wual, I jist hev, an’ thorny-d
cur‘wokotit, Ikin sw'ar. ‘ I ' .

“ Now jist let me an Git Thar lead 15hr m
up these hour rocks, ter’tuin’t the:- who”
ciimbin" yer ever see, Boy Ferd". '

The old hunter now went on ahead, in
climbing the mountain, and the skill Ind one
with which Git Thar picked his way muffin
mohgshowedthathewasasnsedto ‘
as a. goat.

end, and withn' quiet smile he said:
“ Hour we is, Boy Pnrd; now which my?

“Ideclurelamateloestotcllyon,unde." o".

“Wual, yersee this hour boulder-nil»
pointedtoalurgerook, that looked no my.
it had fallen from the cliff at some pm We. 
-, “Yes, uncle.” ) ~

" Does yer see anything queer about 3‘9

“ No, uncle." V

“Wual, yer hes good eyes, but
leetlo peoooliarity ’bout it. 7 .

“See hour now," and as he spoke
mounted, walked to the side of the hawker, '
lying against the cliif, and what seemed to be
solid rock, was suddenly drawn aside, proving
to be a. curtain, and it covered the outta-oh to
a cave, large enough to admit a home. '

The curtain was a, gray blanket, oltho me  \ti‘“ , 

hue u the rock, and so ingeniously. hm "at
the cavern whence, theta person twenty not
uway would not suspect it {ram being unu-
than the solid would the cllfl. - '

At last Old Ginny belted at a huge  
pioe, whereall further progress seemed “an ‘

;

thermal,‘

Into the cavern went Git Thur, and flat, I

followed Bruin‘stwo home, while he and his
uncle brought up the rear, for > hi
darted on ahead. as though he considered him.
self relieved from duty. ‘ ’ * ' 

The paezageway
through the rock, and Very dark, wban'Oll
Grizzly had dropped the blanketenrtuiu u.

was a natural W F,

place again; but them horses (allowed on; 7 I

Tharasreadily through the
youth follow hisuncie. _ r -
Afters walk of a hundred yards, there
-a glimmer of light ahead, and soon they make“
out into urw'iid glen ot’themwniaigwifih
precipitoussidea, end running but use 
mm A .1 , _ ‘3’, '
Butitwnsnotmwfidbewtyotziin oun—
you in the very top of the 

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stuck ,the youth with surprise, but what he
beheld there: ,

About the glen were a number of large trees,
and to many of them were fastened savage
beasts of the mountains. ,

First the eye of the youth fell upon a
large grimly bear chained at the very entrance
to the cavern, and who seemed to be the very
monarch of all, and to hold in subjection his
lesserth subjects. -

Then, fastened by stout chains to the trees,
were other beers, from the cinnamon to the
smaller-sized black bear.

Next were visible panthers, wild-cats, wolves
and foxes, all securely chained, and all of them
howling, whining, snarling, grunting, or growl-
hg, apparently with delight, but yet with a
mvageness in their joy that was fearful tolook
upon.

Fully half a. hundred‘wild animals were in
sight, and it was no wonder that the youth
posed with horror and terror combined at
sight of the menagerie. \

“ This are my den, Boy Purd, an’ yer is en-
tirely welcome, an’ I are almighty glad yer

.hesoome.

“Don‘t be skeert, fer this are my‘famblygso

( they is kin ter you, an’ this old grizzly are my

a, an’ of any one 0’ that gang were ter

algit loose, he’d chaw ’em up prime, afore he’d

lot ’om pass out, an’ he has ther chawin’ mill
ta- do it, as yer‘sees.

3 ‘«‘ I gi’n ’em all a double feed afore I left, an’
'tole ’em ter go slow; but they sated it right

, up, I kin sw’ar, an’ now they is as hungry as

beasts; but I hes a supply 0’ meat in ther cave
yonder, an’ they shall hev some lunch ter
knelt/off their appetites.
“Yer likes that den, I hopes, nevvy, far it
hain’tgperlite ter say yer don’t, ef yer doesn’t.
‘,‘It are a good place, an’ this hour place we
named in at are ther only place we kin git out

“Jess, we hes ings, which we hasn’t, not
bein' angils like er good mommy an’ daddy
up inheaven.

. ‘g‘Thu' are a stream 0’ water for yer bosses,
an’ plenty. of, grass, an’ yer see yonder log
shanty?” and Old Grizzly pointed to a stout log
cabin against one side of the canyon.

“.Yss, uncle." - . .

“ Wadi, thar are my home, an’ I hes plenty
o’ grub an’ welcome fer yer, an’ soon as we git
a loot-la, rested, I’ll interjooce yerter ther rest

" d that fambly.”

Benin would have declined this honor, for
horas almost crazed by the wild bowls and
mu, whines and snarls of the “fambly,”
but he nodded assent, and picking 'his way

'. among the wild and savage hrutes, who eyed

him and his terrified horses as though they be
' red them brought for their food, he found
iaymy over to the cabin. and soon. had his
two animals in a secluded part of the glen,

(feeding upon the luxuriant grass with which

the place aboanded.

,C PTER XVII. I
BEGIN an WINS ms Nun.
Taonon young Adams was at first deeply

 

»» t.

' name with on Grimly’s “ fambly," as the

Beer/llama called his savage pets, he soon
gotnecnetomed to them, and was always glad

' to go' out and kill mountain sheep and other

gamete feed them on. ‘
 degrees they got to knowing him, and

fluently loving him, as much as they did

Grizzly himself, and he had the same con-
t'ml of them, and they obeyed when he spoke

’ (datum, or when he used a sterner argument
at any rate.

His horses also began to regard them as a
Maud parcel of the family in the glen, and
to Weathered any of them excepting the
huge grimly that noted oaths  Over
the only means of ingress andfigrsss tothe

on. at ;
 Grizzly told hisrnephew that he had

eats” when of the savage brute. when
young, and hader and trained them tohis

 onlyonce had hadamutinyinthe‘
household, and that was when ouoldgrlmly.

l .
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,\

‘r.

 

‘Bruin Adams, Old Grizzly'lkdams’ 3

had gotten loose and taken a fancy to fax
meat, which did not satiate his appetite until
he had killed half a dozen of those animals.

“ Pulfed up with his feed,” said the old
hunter, “ thet grizzly just went on a gin'ral
rumpus, knockin’ cats over, huggin’ black b’ars
an’ pattiu’ pant’ers with his pawe, until 1 bed
ter give him a perscription 0’ cold lead fer cure
hm"

“ But what do you intend to do with them,
uncle?" asked the youth.

“ Waal, I hedn’t thought 0’ thet; but they’ll
come in useful some time, I guesses, an’ don’t
you think so, Boy Pard ?”

“ I hope so, uncle.”

“ So do I; but come, let us go out an‘ hev a
real ole hunt fer b’ar that hain't tame. ”

The youth readily acquiesced in this propo—
sition, and the two hunters left the glen, and
after a walk of a couple of miles separated to
meet at a given point, for, in the month he
had been at the home of his strange old uncle
young Adams had learned theroountry round
about pretty thoroughly.

For some distance the youth trudged along,
seeing no game of any kind, and be was begin-
ning to feel that‘he would not be successful in
his hunt that day, when he espied a large griz-
zly bear coming slowly down the mountain.

Instantly he sprung up into the low branches
of a tree and concealed himself, for he saw
that the bear had not seen him, and wished to
get a good shot at him.

Down thanwuntein-side came the grizzly,

and when within a hundred feet of the tree be
halted and looked at a point some distance be-
low him. .
. Turning his head to see what the bear had
sighted, the youth beheld his uncle standing
some distance off, and it was evident that he
too had been unsuccessful in his hunt, was
waiting for his nephew’s coming, and had not
discovered the huge grimly.

Emboldened by the near presence of his
uncle, the youth was, about to descend and
open on the hear, when his rifle suddenly
slipped from his hand and fell to the ground.

At the same moment, as though yery hungry,
and anxious to make a meal of! of his name-
sake, the grizzly started at a lope down the
hill, and his course would lead him directly
under the trec,so to get down and seize his
rifle the youth knew wouldbe impossible.

He had been so accustomed to the savage
hrutes of late, that he had almost ceased to
dread them, and, seeing that the grizzly was
coming directly beneath him, he was urged by
a sudden impulse, and dropped upon his back.

With a howl of rage and fright the huge
monster bounded forward at a rum-seemingly
wishing to escape from beneath his rider,
rather than to halt and try conclusions with
him.

But the grizzly had not gone half a dozen
lengths before the youth recognised fully that
he had made a great mistake. _

He knew that his only salvation. was in his
uncle, and to him he yelled lustily to attract
his attention.

Old Grizzly heard the cry and saw the start-
ling a,ud novel sight, and instantly prepared
for action, while the bear, having lost his hun-
ger in his fright, ran directly toward the old
hunter, though apparently without seeing him.

The youth readily realized that if his uncle
did not kill the hear he would run on until he
got over his fright, and then stop, roll over, and
roll him off, and the result would be far from
pleasant to him, though a climax devoutly to
be desired by the grizzly, '

He had his knife and his revolvers in his
belt; but he knew how hard a grizzly was to
kill, and that a knife- thrust, or bullet-wound
would but madden him, and cause him to stop
and have it out.

To frighten the savage brute more thorough-
ly, the youth yelled loudly, and drummed his
shaggy sides with his heels, for he, was afraid
hemight halt beforehe came in range of his
uncle’s rifle. ; . I
He could slipofl it wantme, butouce relieved
l .

(it ,  We, Yr ‘ j.   ,

 

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' I

Owed»- _ ‘ »

 

of the cause of his fright, the grimly would in—
stantly turn upon him.

Nearer and ‘nearer drew the bear to the
spot where the grim old hunter stood, and
then, as if suddenly remembering his existence,
the brute swerved slightly from his direct
course.

This was too much for the daring young
rider, and he shouted in stentorian tones: ,

“Blame our fool souls, here we come, nuclei
Head us off!"

The answer of Old Grizzly to this appeal,
was made through the muzzle of his rifle.

With such steady nerve did he aim, that the
bullet pierced the eye of the brute, and brought
him to his knees so suddenly that the youth
was thrown over his head.

,But he nimbly taught on his feet, and turn-
ing with the rapidity of lightning, opened
upon the savage monster with both revolvers,
for the grizzly was by no means dead.

The rapid rattle of the revolvers was music
to the heart of the old Bear Tamer, and death
to the grizzly bear proper, and the hunter, in
his ecstasy dashed up yelling like an Indian,
justas the monster of the mountain sunk to
rise no more. ‘ >

“ Waal, Boy Pard, yer hes got out a scrape
no darned fool ought ter git out of; but I fer-
gives yer fer yer luck, an’ ther grit yer
show’d, only don‘t go ter ridin’ grizzly b‘ars
through ther mountains no more.”

“I have no inclination todo so again, I as‘
sure you, uncle.” . -

“Like as not, boy. , i

“I got my name ‘0’ Old Grizzly from a
tussle I bed with a Mar 0’ thet kind onst,.and
it were a squar’ stan’ up fight of it; an’ durn
me, of I don’t call you Bruin Adamsarter this,
an’ yer desarves the name.

“ Now whar is yer rifle, Bruin, my soul”

“ Back under the tree where I mounted the
grizzly.”

“Git it in yer gripe, while I skins this crib“

ter, for it are ther largest' hide I hev seen in a
long time,” x ; ,

And thus it was that J. F. C. Adams got his
name of “Bruin,” by which he is My best
known on the border. ,

CHAPTER XVIII.
ran INDIAN rnarh.
SEVERAL days after the A “ christening adven.

 

ture,” as Old Grizzly called Br'uin’s bear-ride,

the uncle and nephewwero out on a hunt for
game for the savage pets, when the old man
discovered a trail that caused him to stop and
consider.

“ Thar be some condemned reds around,
Boy Pard, an’ they is meanin’ mischief," he
laid. ,

“ You read that by’the trail, nuclei"

“ Yes, an’ I tell yer what it are.” ‘

“ Well, uncle?”

“Yer see huntin' parties frequently come:
hour in these mountains; but they don’t stay

long, while these hev come tor stay, fer the! ,
village hev passed along hear.

“Now they is goin’ ter hide hour for some

deviltry, au’ like as not it m for a raid down _

on ther miners.

“Hour they kin rest thei- ponies, git thfl
weepins in shape, an’ 'not be diskivered,vas they
know few whites come ter these parts, barrin’
it are me, an’ when they hev got ready for
that war-path why will J'ist raise dumtion
down in ther mines, run back hour, an’ over-
take ther village, which they will hev already
on ther go, under charge 0’ ther young bucks.
and push fer thsr Big Horn kentry, whar-
they’ll git mixed up with other rovin’ villages

.o’ ther red varmints an’ luff tharse’fs sick,

while that sogers ’ill pounce upon some innern
cent Inguns, ef Inguns is innercent, an’ lick a
hull tribe 0’ wimmin and children, an’ let ther-
guilty ones git ofl. ‘
“ That are sure as preachin‘._”
‘ ‘ You've got it down fine, uncle.”
, “ I hev tor hev
myha’r.,  . .f,
“ You'see I hev studied lngan signal.“

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‘ as yer say yer mother made you study books,

an’ I knows Ingin so weal I kin tell a boy
pappoose from a gal papoose soon as I heur
’em cry.”. . -

“ But do the Indians not expect that you
will discover their presence in the mountains,
and report it to Fort Laramie?” y

“That are jist what they does think, Boy
Pard, an’ will try ter prevent.”

“ How 3"

“Yet see a dead men can’t do no talkin’.”

N No. 7'

“ Nor wal kiu’?”

“No, uncle.”

“ Weal,,they is goin’ ter lu'll me.”

“Kill you, uncle?” .

“Yes, of they kin; but somehow I double
ther possibility 0’ thar doiu’ so.”

The youth laughed at the comical manner of
the old man, and said:

“ And so do I, uncle.”

“ Waal, as we knm they is bear thar is
one thing tor be did.” ‘ '

“ And what is that?”

'flinet an’ hiudmost for and out jist whar
thry has put that willage.

‘* Then, jist how many thar is h it, and ther
way in and ther way out. . .

“ Next, you must keep house while I strikes
fer Laramie an’ fetches a young army down
upon am" I

“ I will do all I can, uncle."

“I know yer will, Boy Pal-d; but thar are
one thing yer must not do.”

“ And what may that be?"

“ Lose yer hair.”

“I certainly do not wish to, uncle.”

“ Waal, it. are as easy did as fallin’ of! a

' log, of yer don’t know how ter keep it on yer
head .

“lilow, come, Bruin, an’ let’us see 

those reds bev hid the’rselves.”

Theold hunter cautiotu led the way over
the mountain, not following directly the In-
dian trail, but making a detour-Vin a. direc-
tion which he knew would bring him across it

Understanding the nature of the country
perfectly he again crossed the trail some halt .
dozen miles from where he had first discovered
it, ,_ ,

Here be halted, and said: _

‘fTbe’y is, as; I thought, in the Trappers’

.Canymgwhar some good men got hilt soma

years ago, by a party of lamina.

future a nice place for a lugnn village, an’
they  good .teedln’imund for that ponies
in a kind 0’ nat’ral oorml, which half a dozen

r mwmmw.

“Is it tartnommeh, uncle?" , :

“Jist three mile ,as tber crow flies, the’ we
will hev tomake flee tor git than?

“And you are going there?” [asked Bruin,
in surprise. ’ '

“‘ Yes, fer l wishes tar
fiber inhabitants. ”

Just then a shot was heard back on the trail,

take therrcensus’o’

and udeer came bounding out ot a clump of .

timber and fell dead, not fifty feet from the
hrgerock, near which the two hunters were
standing. - , ' ,

Seizi‘ng the arm of hisnephow Old Grimb’
dragged him behind the rock out of sight, just
as an Indian came bounding out of the timber
toward the fallen dean. ,

"The:- deer are that-wlngun’s meat, aa’ ther
Ingln are my meat," muttered the old hunter,

. _

CHAPTER xxx. 
rwa SCALI'S AND on cam

“Do you intend to shoot him, uncle?”. asked,
Thin Adams, as he saw the Indian bend over
$0 deer, and his uncle making preparations
wadgomgdly look. d in

'ard fer wuamwpemfo,
“h' it don’tyoost nothin’ firm with a mile
 that Ingna are bendin’ over

_ that deer jist enjoyln’ that cutfin’ at it up. ‘8'

-partyl'erhim. ,
 g '

‘9 ‘5.

 

, to aid hiapephew.

'to’head. .

 

BrninAdeims, Old Griz‘zly'gldamszfioy"Ferd. -

“You wait heur, boy.” 3‘ 

The old hunter grasped his knife firmly,
slung his rifle acress his back,-hnd, with the
noiseless tread of a panther crept upon the
unsuspecting savage, who was busy preparing
his game to shoulder to the village.

Nearer and nearer crept Cld Grizzly, until
within ten feet of the kneeling Indian, and
then, with a mighty spring he wm upon
him. ‘

There was a half-stifled war—cry as the knife
was driven into his side, and ere he died the
scalp-lock was torn from his head.

But just at that moment another warrior
bounded from the timber, which Old Grizzly
did not see, and threw his rifle to his shoul-
der.

Another moment and the days of the old
hunter would have ended then and there, when
from around the rock came the pnfl.’ of a
rifle, and at its crack the red—skin dropped
dead.

01d Grizzly was on his feet in, an instant,
and his quick eye took in the situation at a
glance, and he shouted: , I

“waal did, Boy ,Pard, fer yer saved ther
old man’s ha’r that time. >

r“ Come an’ git yer scalp.” _

The old man walked toward the fallen In-
dian as he spoke, and bent over him and raised
the scalp-lock in his fingers caressingly.

Just then, however, there came a series of
wild yells, the rapid rattle of revolvers, and

he saw fully tnoscore of warriors rushing

upon his Boy Para. .
Instinctively he took the scalp from the red-
skin’s head and thrust it into his belt, while he
slung his rifle round ready for use and started
But a. glance showed that it would be mad‘
nose for him to go then, as, although Bruin had
dropped halt “down-redefine with his revol-
vers, he was already in. their grasp and being
bound with a celerity that was marvelous,
and seems natural to an Indian. .
That the Indians had been creeping up a
nyon through which Bruin was visible to
them, and they had not discovered him, Old
Grizzly at once saw, and like a. deer he bounded
to cover. M .

. Once in the timber he ran with the speed of
an antelope down the hillside, and kept up his
rapid pace until he had placed a long distance
between himself and his toes. .

Then he sat down, to rest, and having re-
covered his breath, began, as was his wont, to
talk to himself aloud.

“ Wasl, they hev ther buy, an’ no mistake.

“ It were my tault, too, (or I sh'u’d hev

,knowed that wharthnr war so big a. trail, thar

musthev been some straggling hunters. - 1
“I got ther deer-killer, tho’, an’ ther boy
chipped t’otber one, an’ hit him squar’ inzther

“An’ hour are then-,4 scalps; but they is
darned little consideration when they hey ther
boy. ‘ .
‘5 y glorifls 0’ ther Rockies, how he did
fight!

“ They took him suddint from ther rear; but
he lied out’them revolvers 0’ his’n, an’ I seen
five reds drop myself, an’ they. didn’t tumble
as tho’ they was hurt, but same as they was
sent fer for good an’ . . . _

“Theyc’u‘d hey kilt ther- boy, but they
didn’t, an’ that says as how they wants his
scalp arter they hev bed that fun with him. ,

“ Well, if they wants his scalp more’n I does
him, they hev got tar take'it, thetfs all

“Now, as thar devil-eyes didn’t see me, an?
it were strange, too, for they gin’rally sees
more’n kin be see’d anyhow, I will jist perem-

-bulate down to that Trappers’ CanyomVSee how

they likes ther camp, what, ther captive lodge
"‘9 put. an’ what are ,ther news giu’rally. .
{‘Wheu I sees what I wants tar see, then I

Ekin tell what are to: bodid terreskoother boy,

:9: he’s gotterbe saved,ormy;ha_’r? hesgot tar
 "r?  vl   ~ I”

Bont‘iins‘amdfldsdyemwd  3m

Numericmpwm’mm;  .

K , “I, ,  Y" ‘r,

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CHAPTER XX,
ran GAPTXV'E.

Tan Indians [who had ,diwovered Bruin
Adams, “and rushed upon him, had been so
struck with admiration at his splendid courage
and the cool manner in which ‘he handled his
revolvers, dropping one 02 tha‘r number. at
every shot, the chief called out to them to take
him alive, that they might witness if be dis—
played the same 0001 mien when under ton.
ture. L'

Although he never failed in his aim, and five
red-skins had dropped before him, they rushed
pell-mell upon him, seized him in their arms,
and, in spite of his powerful resistance, bore
him to the earth and bound him securely.

The captors were a small hnntingpa: ty who
had diverged from the line of march to carry
into camp with them a quantity of game.

They were therefore delighted when they
were able to enter the camp with not only.
quantities of game, but a white toe, though the
death of their comrades, at the hands of the
youth, caused'wailing among the squaws and
children. '

The tepees were being put up as they en-
tered, and the prisoner was led to one side of
the village and securely bound to a stake,
while the old bags and heartless chihlreh‘
gathered around him‘and heaped inSults um n.
him, many of them slapping his (one and puil~ ‘
ing his hair in no gentle manner.

. Through an Indian guard, who did. not pre«
vent them from annoying him,’ Bruin found
out that he would certainly be tortured in the
morning, and. then put to death.

But the brave youth never flinched at these
tidings, and only busied his brain in plotting
some means of escape.

He knew, to his joy, that Old Grizzly had
escaped, and the prowess and pluck of his uncle
he welllmew, and did not doubt but thathu
was then planning some means by which to >
rescue him. ' ' . . '

“I’ve got an awful short time otit,”hemut~ ‘
tered, as an old ‘equaw struck him a sharp blow
on the face. , , r L _, _ w

Just then his eyes fell .upon a face “the
crowd that rivoted. his attention. , .

It was the face 01 a. young girl,» and evidemr
ly one that had Indian blood in her veins; but
that she was not a full-blood red-skin was also
evident. , V .  W

‘ Her form was slender, willowy in its mo»,
tion, and her hands and feet were remarkably
small. l . , ‘ 

Her complexion was hardly darker than a r
Spaniard’s, clear. and healthy in hue, and her

hair was waving, dark brown, and very long. ' '

She was attired in the finest of dressed buck—
skins, moccasins, leggings and hunting—shirt,
all headed and wrought with porcupine quills,

while necklaces of gold and silver were around ' ' - ’

her neck, and bracelets of the same precious
metals upon her arms, around her wrists and
above her elbows. "
_ In her belt she carried a. small knife and
pistoh‘and upon her head were a beautiful
coronet of eagles’ feathers, gs.ny dyed, which
showed that she was a chief‘s daughter. ‘ 7 '
Coming up to the youth, she gamed uponfhim,
caught his eye, and catching him by the hair

with both hands, pretended topull ittbut'inw .

:doing so he heard the words in goodth
“ U-noonca is the boy brave’s friend. ' ‘
“ Tonight she will save him.” . _
His eyes showed her that he understood her,

and with another apparently vicious pull at his ' 1
hair, she turned away, and an old hag stepped .L :

up and gave him a. blow in which there was no
mercy. , . ,
But Bruin did not mind it ball as much as he

had before done, and his eyes followed the »
form of the young girl as shemovedahout -. _.

among thecrowd.‘ « ,, ; _ ,. .

But gradually the day died away, and the
boy captive was lett alone with  Indian
 but with the darkness this shadows

* seemed-m rise from to heart, for new Nth

 

~ s

x

in U—uoon-ca, and knew, too, that Old Grady r

y

.hod hotter-Winn,

. . . s

‘e

 

 

 

 

  
  
    
 

  

i‘ "'

12

 

/.
y . y

 

CHAPTER XXI.
, U-NOON-CA.

It was growing bedtime for the early-retir-
ing Indians, who were very tired after their
long march, when the night guards were placed
around the prisoner.

There were three of them, all young warriors
of promise, and with no fear of a rescue, or
that the bound captive could escape, they com-

posed themselves to rest around the stake.

Each warrior threw his buffalo robe upon the

» ground, and resting his mat at or upon the feet

of the others, formed a triangle, in the center
of which was the. stake, to which Bruin was
most securely bound, hands and feet, and capa-
ble of moving only his head.

' The boy’s heart sunk within him at this dis-
position of his guards, for he had expected
that he would be borne to the guard tepee, not
far away, and only one warrior be left out«

‘ side.

As it was, he could see no manner of means
by which the Indian maiden could keep her
promise to rescue him.

Had it been Old Gfirzly to face those sleeping
Indiana, he felt that the case might be differ
ent.

Still he did not give up all hope, and ere
very long he saw that he was right in not doing
so, for a form appeared coming through the
darkness, whom he soon saw was none other
than U-noon-ca, the Indian maiden.

The three young braves had not composed
themselves to sleep, and prose hastily at her
coming, seemingly in both surprise and pleas-
are.

Though Bruin did not understand what she,
said, he saw that she pointed back to the
tepees, and heard her mention the name of the
chief, Iron Eyes, whose daughter she was.

That the young warriors were in love with
her, Bruin Adams recognized at a glance, and
as she pointed to him and stepped forward

' they made no objection.

She walked around behind him and caught
hold of his hand, and he felt her drawing a
ring 0!, which had escaped the eyes of the In-
dians, and which he prised most highly; as it
was a present to him from the little girl whom

,he kept old Tartar from punishing at the

country school. v

{"U-uoon-ca has promised, and U-noon-ca’s
tongue is straight," whispered the maiden.

As she tool: the ring she held it up to the
view of the warriors, and then put it on her
finger with a pleased laugh.

Then she thrust her hand into the bosom of
his bunting-shirt and performed a trick of

 )sleight—of-hand that surprised the young cap-

flve greatly. y
Be well knew that he was wholly temperate,

' and did not carry a bottle of liquor with him

even for “ medicine." And yet U-noon-ca
drew out of his hunting-shirt, apparently, a
flask that certainly contained whisky.

' 1 With glad laughter she held it uptotha view

of the young braves. and Bruin then saw
through her little game; she had brought it
:with her to carry out her pledge.

This she gave to one young warrior, to take a
drink, andtben to a second. and next to the
third, and they were by no means backward
in indulging in a liberal quantity.

When the flask was empty U-noon-ca claimed
it, showed her ring to the young braves, once
more, and with a coquettish manner went
back toward the tepees.

The young warriors had all been treated
alike. all smiled on, each one had been shown
the ring, and so there was no cause for quar-
ruling, and therefore they once more took to
their buflalo-robes. ’

Bruin watched them closely, though with

W apparent indifference, and soon saw that the

liquor had done
Imndly. V

, an hour, which seemed an age to Bruin,
then pausdaway, and his watching eyes de-
tected the maiden coming quietly toward

him. ,
,With‘a fool-ll like vulva she came m-

4 . .

its work, for they slept

Bruiahdams, Old Grizzly

ward, drawing nearer and nearer, until at
length she stood just outside the triangle formed
by the bodies of the Indians.

For a moment she stood like a statue, her
eyes falling upon each one in turn, and then,
convinced that they slept soundly she drew a
knife from her belt and stepped boldly, but
noiselessly across the body of one.

Thus standing, she bent forward, knife in
hand, and severed the bonds with her sharp
knife. ,

Then Bruin Adams was free of his rawhide
bonds and the stake; but yet he had not
crossed that fearful barrier at his feet, and
even across that he had some deadly dangers
to risk, as he would have to elude the guards.

Having released him, the maiden stepped
back and motioned to him to follow.

. He stepped forward to obey, when his be-
'numbed feet, so long and tightly bound, re-
fused to uphold his weight, and he fell heavily
across one of the Indians.

Like the very wind U-noon ca bounded
away to avoid detection, for she saw that the
captive was instantly in the grasp of the three
armed warriors.

In vain his struggle, Bruin well knew, and
in a second’s time almost he was again bound,
and was borne by two of his guards to the
prison tapes, while one of them started off to«
ward the village, and bearing upon their lips
the names of U-noon-ce and Iron Eyes, the
youth knew that she had been seen and recog-
nized as his friend, and the thought of harm to
her filled him with the greatest regret and
sorrow.

Once in the tapes he was again securely
bound. and soon after the third guard returned.

But he was not alone, for he was accom-
panied by the old chief, Iron Eyes, who held
by the hand the Indian maiden U-noon-ca.

She was calm, and her eyes flashed fearlessly
as she confessed the act of having tried to save
the captive, for the gestures of the Indians
showed Bruin what they were talking about.

Then the old Iron Eyes turned away, leading
the maiden with him, and the young captive
was left to his own bitter thoughts and under
the care of the now wide-awake guards.

But confident now that U-noon-ca could no
longer aid the pale-face captive, and feeling
still the fumes of the liquor. the warriors again
Settled themselves for a sleep, and Bruin felt
that all hope was gone, for how could Old
Grizzly over enter the Indian village and save
him against such fearful odds?

CHAPTER XX'I.
ow GRIZZLY’S PLOT.

Tun result of the view Old Grizzly obtained
of the Indian village was by no means satisfac-
tory to him.

He saw that his conjecture was right that a
village had been brought to the mountains to
hide while the warriors and ponies recuperatcd
and laid plans for some devilish work against
the settlers.

They had camped in a narrow valley, which
was known to a few hunters us the Trapper-5’
Canyon, and through the center of it ran a
shallow stream.

The tepees were already up, and were on the
banks of the stream, and their number proved
to the old hunter that fully four hundred war-
riors could be brought into the field.

Below the village the canyon widened into
a valley'with the same precipitous sides, and,
being fertile in the extreme and well-watered,
it was a most desirable pasturege for the
ponies, which were spread over the level
grounds, over a thousand in number.

As the valley, two miles below, again nar-
rowed to a canyon, the pass was certainly a
most desirable place for an Indian village, as
they could be attacked at only two points, and
if an enemy was e i a , few red-skin
warriors could defend the entrance against
twenty times their number.

The old hunter had been through the canyon
often before, and know its good points; but as

 

 

he at on the hillsidc'two miles away, he gaud‘l

' l

‘Adams’  Pard. . a ,1

 

 

upon the village, the feeding ponies, and an
other objects that attracted his attention, with
an interest that was most earnest.

‘ ‘ Thar are ther council-lodge, an‘ that tepee
by itself on t’other side be that captive prison.
an’ they hev thcr boy in thar now, for I see
two red-skins standin’ guard over it.

“ Waal, I’d boy to he a reg’lar out an’ outer
Injun ter git in thur, so ther sneak game are
no good.

“Afore I c’u’d go ter the fort, au’ ‘thonl
sogch gits hour, ther boy w’u’d be torter’d an’
kilt, fer them officers hrs ter move by rule‘al’
’rithmetic, sarcumlocution an’ trumpet-blow
in’, in all ondertakin’s ’ceptin’ when they is salt
on ter git suddint, un’ then they fergits dis-
ciplin’ an’ they gits, as l hes seen.

“Weal, what are ter be did ter says that _

boy? V~
“He hev got tor be saved, that are a fact.
but how are it ter he did?”

For a long time the old hunter lay under the

shelter of the tree that concealed him, and was
lost in deep thought. ‘

Then suddenly his face lighted up, and he
backed away over the ridge, shouldered his
rifle and std-ted at an Indian trot for his own
camp in the rocks.

It was just sunset when he reached there,
and at once he set to work to arrange the plan
of rescue he had formed.

Going up to the beam he began to nuchalu
them and fasten them together two by two.

Next followed the wolves, then the panthm.
next the wild—cats and foxes, and then he sur-
veyed the savage hand, his stout stick keeping
them in awe, for not one of them was them
that he had not thoroughly trained. '

“ I may lese some 0’ yer vannints this night.
of our Lord Anna Dominy; but ther boy are
more related for me than ther rest of you
critters, tho’ yer is all 0’ ther same fambly.

“I knows yer c’u’d chew nails, yer is so hun-
gry; but yet is allns hungry for eatin’, no
matter of yer has jist eated a buifler.

“ Now, I wants no fightin’, no gmmblin',
on‘y Sunday-school conduct among ye, var-
miuts, or l’ll hit yer snonts a knock with my
behavin’-pole,” , and Old Grizzly shook his
stick at his pets.

“Come, Calamity, you is invited, and come
along all of ya”

He unfastened the large grizzly as he spoke,
and taking the chain in his hand, platted
through the tunnel.

Silently the savage procession followed, the
rattle of the chains making the only sound, to:-
their footfalls were not heard.

Out of the passageway through the hill of
rock they went, dovm the mountain-side, clove
at the heels of the brutetamer.

Occasionally a deer would bound by. in
the darkness, and the wolves would show
an inclination to give chase, and the bears and
pointers would growl; buts few raps of Old
Grizzly’s magic wand quieted the disturbance.
and again the procession wendcd onward.

Atlast Old Grizzly halted, and letting go of
the grizzly’s chain thus addressed his pols:

“Look heur now all of yo; 1 has tor leave
yer fer a short term, but 1 wants that best
behavior I kin git out 0’ ye.

“ My namesake hour will keep a eye on yer,
an’ Calamity, you come after me of I is needed.

“ Jist be good all claws around, an' I’ll give
yer 3. citing an’ fat feedin’ fer animilee i- I»
turn.” ' -

Leaving his dog Calamity,‘ and the hp
grizzly bear as monitors, the old hunter ml.
softly away upon some secret mission.

CHAPTER XXIII.
.‘ A mom unseen
For. several hundred yards, after leasing
his brute soldiers, the old hunter went cautiou—
lyalong, until atlsst he came in View of a
high clifl. - ,
“That iii-ether openin’ au‘ that as that
yards," he muttered; '
Throwing

himsélfupon the ground he mwl‘f

l
I l
/ .

 

 

 

Ved like a snake nearer to the cliff, and soon
alright sight of a spark. \

“That are ther guard smokin’ his pipe, an’
i hopes he enjoys it, fer it are ther last on ’arth
he’ll hev.

"‘ New tor see how many varmints thar be."

So saying he crept nearer and nearer until
he saw an Indian warrior seated at the entrance
to the canyon, while his pony was lariated not
bur sway.

“ I’m guessiu’ he are alone, an’ so heur goes.

" Et that be others I hes‘ter rastle it out, an’,

of I calls, that sogers I hes back yonder will
come tu- all they is wurth."

Keeping in the shadow of some scrub pines
Old Gnarly got within ten paces of the Indian
guard.

Then he raised a bow he had brought with
hlnyand fitting to the string a flint-headed.
arrow took delilmmte aim.

The arrow left the bow with a slight twang,
and aimed just above the spark that showed
the bowl of the pipe, buried itself in the throat
of the Indian, who, without. a groan, sunk
back against the clifl, dead. . ‘ ' _

Cautiously Old Grinly then left his plhce of

concealment, and the dead red-
skin, and with an ' ’ot satisfaction remoVed

‘ his scalp.

Hardlyth he done so when be copied two
ponies, which told him as many more guards
were near.

The next moment he heard voices and steps
approaching, and two warriors appeared com-
ing out of the canyon.

Down upon the body of the red-skin squat-
ted Old Grizzly, and quietly waited for their

ugnowoh, an arrow fitted in the bow and held
I dy, for he dared not fire a pistol then and
alarm the village, nothaltamiledistant.

The two warriors each carried a blanket full
of pine straw, they had gathered in the moun—
tain side, to make themselves comfortable, and
they were within six feet of Old Griqu when
he let the arrow fly, straight for the heart or
one, while, with the bound of a panther he
was upon the other, his hand at his throat, and
his knife was cutting its way into the heart of
the red-skin.

“ Thet were done slick an’ prime,” said Old
Grizzly, as the savage slipped through his hands

.to theground, and lnydend hythelideofhis
comrade.

"But' I must get this wittals away from
hour More I fetches my sogcrs, or ther cirkur
will begin store I is ready, as them critters
dues love Injuu-meat, an' they'd go for it hot
:m' heavy."

/ One by one he shouldered the dead Indians
and bore them up the hillside, away from the
mouth of the canyon. -

Thenhohnstflymn back to where he had
loft his pta. '

They were all squatted, or lying upon the
ground, and greeted him with low growls and
whines, which he quickly silenced by n stern
word and an exhibition of his stick.

“Come along, yer var-mints, for time are
preahue, In’ I is sp’ilin’ fer ther fun.

“; Dowdy hev mercy, but it will be ther
dumden, dog-gondost rumpus that ever were
seen in a Christian community.”

At the thought of the plot he had formed, Old
Grizzly chuckled as he went along, closely fol-
lowed by the brute:

Asthey snifled the blood of the three In-
«liens, at the mouth of the canyon, there was
a bait, and some anng swim; but the stick
fell heavily, and about among the
beasts, thankier Tamer soon restored per-
(cell order, and the column moved into the
canyon. '-

Atlutthey came in sight 0! the‘smolder-
in: camp-fires of the village.

Ah was silent, excepting the barking of 3
60: now we then.

. “The: dogs will be skeert too.
,‘lAhlbutthivamapimic. I isny
has nobody tgr invite ter it.

“ Now v '

ereverydnrnedoueknows.

me a, hymnwlmm momma

 

 Adams,:Qld Grizzly rlldanis’\Boy 

l

 

“I goes straight ter ther prison tepee, halts
thar a leetle minute, an’ then passes on.down
ther valley, stampedin’ ther ponies, an’ so on
round home.

“Thor roll are called, twenty-nine h’ars,
fourteen wells, ten pa’nters, sixteen wild-cats,
twelve foxes, one dog an’ one man.

“ Ef any 0’ yer stop ter chaw Ingim—meat,
yer will lose yer life, so don’t tarry. among
ther wickid Inguns, but come right on arter
yer vurtuous muster.

“Howl like camp-meetin,’ snap, bite an’
claw like ther devil, but keep a-goin’ all ther
time.

“Now, sogers, yer hes‘yer orders, an’ in a
second I will give yer ther toot ter go.”

The dumb soldiers, as Old Grizzly called his
band, listened patiently to this harangue and
gotready for the work, which they knew was
out of the usual routine, as the Bear Tamer
had never taken his whole “ iambe ” out for a
walk. '

Drawing his revolver in both hands, and

having also in his. belt a spare pair which
Bruin had brought, besides his own double-
barrel pistols, Old Grinst moved silently to’
ward the quiet village, that little dreamed of

’ danger.

With one loud, ringing yell, answered by
howls, growls. yelps, shrieks and barks tram
the brutes, Old Grizzly bounded forward.

The whole pack at his heels, he headed di-
rectly for the prison tepee, and it seemed as
if the ark had suddenly landed and theanimals
were escaping.

What the terrified Indiana thought will never
be known; but when they dashed out to meet
a toe, and saw that wild, swaying, howling,
growling torrent pouring through their village
they fled in terror to the hillsides.

With .shrieks squaws seized their pappooses
andiled, and amid the uproar was heard that
wild cryrone moment, the blast of a born—
Old Grimly‘s signal—the next, followed by the
rattle of the revolvers, whenever the old
hunter saw a warrior upon whom he turn his
fire.

Straight to the prison 'tepee went the surg-
ing mass,and the guards fled in terror,and
bounding in Old Grizzly severed the rawhide
thongs that bound Bruin, and thrust his belt
of arms, which hung on the lodge-pole, into
his hands.

“ Is yer wounded, boy?"

“No, uncle; but what in thunder is the
row?" cried the surprised yOuth.

“ A, menagerie bu'sted, an’ a free cier fer
nothin’, with ther nnimiles a-raisin’ hell-
Columby an’ more fun a- bollin’,” shrieked Old
Grinly,‘ns be dragged the youth from the
tepee and darted on down the canyon, followed
by the howling brutes.

Not an Indian could bosses, for all had fled
to the hills, or climbed trees, with the corn-
est desire that they could pull them up after
them. .

Down the valley they swept, atampedlng the
ponies, who ran over the guards at the other
end of the canyon, and then round the moun-
tain base they went, back to the rocky den in
the clifl, where they arrived tired out and

panting. .

“ Wasl, I’ll be domed at them Injnns haln’t
skeert nigh tor death; hooray for my .
from blur tar pole-cat, 0: which I hcv one ten.
der specimen.

“ Let me see, thnr is only three b’ars, two
pant’ers, three wells, four cats, one bein’ thet
same pole-kitty, an’ seven foxes gone, them
last critters hevin’ tukin’ advantage o the;-
cirkus ter git, bein' sly kind 0’ animiles.

“Wool, Boy Pnrd. you is remand, m’ darn
ther carpense.

“Give us yer grip, for I see yer ll aux-shun
tor take that ole man’s hen’.” ’

CHAPTER XXIV.

 mm was on “nexus. urn.

; THAI! his uncleva hlc'lfle,
Adams. seditmrnd in m the new
gratitudeto'him forlgth’ough ho.ch

I ‘ ‘ .

 

restrain from laughter when he recalled the
wild scenes of the rescue.

The Indians had intended torturing him the
following day, he learned through one of his
guards who spoke English, so Old Grizzly had
not acted too soon in his regime

“ Tme did not see you, strange tosay, uncle,
and I gave them to understand that I was
alone in the mountains, and that I had killed i
and scalped the two warriors; but as I could
not show the scalpe they did not believe me.

“ What do you think they will do now?”

“Lay low ontil mornin’, waitin tor see of .
thar are goin’ ter be another shower 0’ wild
unimiles, an’ then set out tor find whar they
come from an’ what bed happened.

“I kills a few with my shooters, an’ I saw
the:- b’ars get a grip on Several, while a pap— ,
pooee or two mout hev got hurted or kilt, so
the: will be mournin’ in ther village in ther ,
mornin’.

“ But they’ll send out scouts, an’ as all my
anilniles sets comin’ in will hev arrove. they
won’t know what hes been tar pay." '

“ I didn’t see any of the animals killed.”

“ Thar warn’t one hurted, I’m a-thinkin’, so
they might hev got eotched by the chains
round trees.

“As ther Injun ponies is stampeded, they
can't mow right ofi, an’ of they does that-is
but one way for ’em to go, so I wants yer ter
strike fer Iaramie, Boy Pal-d.” I

“ I am ready, uncle."

“ I’ll put yer on ther right track, and shove
yer critter hard. '

“ Tell ther kernul that are four hundred ‘
warriors, under Iron Eyes, an or'nery devil, as
he knows, an’ lead them by ther Devil's Pest,
whar we was some days ago.

“Iwill be thar ter- meet yer, an' tell yer
jlstwhartherlnjinsiean’whsttheyis
Moi“!!! \

“ I’ll start at once, uncle.” ,

“ Yes, an’ don’t ipare yer critter, (er the:
be more at the:- fort."

Ten minutes alter Bruin Adams was in the
saddle, and his horse being perfectly fresh, he
rode along at a rapid pace. 4

Bowen a good woodman,and reedllyun—
dcrstood his bearings; and almost as straighten
Old Griuiyconldhavedone, belu'dhisconrse
for Laramie.

Itwasjmtnoonwhenheduhcdintothe
fort, his horse rocking with team mud panting
like a tired bound. '

Instantlybewaashownintetbe quarters of
the commandant and made known his errand.

,“I never neglect amen-om OldGrlu-ly
Adams, young man, so I will lend two hundred
wiser: against old .Iron Eyes within the

1'.

“But you will be unable in return.” I

“Oh, no,me if Icanget nfruhhorsegl
I care notior the fatigue,” was the youth’s at»
swcr.

The 0010an ordered dinner for Bruin,and
listened to his story of Old Grinly's rescue of
him with greet amusement, and cough-humid
him upon his mp9. '

Twohours utter Bruin entered the lathe
leftitbythe side of the colonel,” guide
the expedition. . ' i
\ Hountedupon a fresh homheforced the
Mandjuststmidnlghtan'lwd "the
Devil’s Pam, having unialteringlyled the com-l
mend there, and won the admiration ot'the
colonel.

Tmto hlsword, Old Gfinlywusthero to

“ How is yet, colonel, an’ that (ambly I
hOPB‘h well!" add the old human, as calmly
as Mmmimporhntmkm-‘
hand.

“Quite well, I thunk yamGrlniy; how is-
your family!" -' v

“Prime,tho’thurdo be a tow Will"
the!- rackit 0’ lat night.

“Is’poseyerhwmdcnthuh'fllo’mflf ‘

mglngunai" . I
“ 'ei'mfieyfiihthomm ‘
4w»; henn’ww-iulm  her..-

I

314

Bruin Adams, Old Grizzly Adams’ Boy mi , I ' ' v ’

 

nr

_'hucks 11an got up all ther ponies yit, an’
., they. passed a oneasy night, feariu’ another

s o’ 'auimiles.”

The colonel and his cflicers all laughed, for
every mauhad heard the strange story of how
Old Grizzly had rescued his nephew.

“ Well, it would be a good time to give them
another surprise now.” . I

“No, kernnl, not ontil daybreak, just, then
we can dash in on 'em, an’ see what they hides.

“I w’u'd send halt ther regiment, with my
Boy Pard thar, to ther upper send o’ the:- can-
yon, en' I'll lead ther rest 0’ yer to t’other
send, an” jist at daybreak we kin sail in onto
’em, an’ ther fight will be prime."

This plan ot'Old Grizzly’s was decided upon,
and the colonel himself, witha hundred men,
went under Bruin Adams’s guidance to the up.
per end of the canyon.

.O‘wing to the death of the three guards the

. night before, the Indians had an advance

picket out from the mouth of the canyon, and
a score of warriors at the spot where Old

. Grinly bud slain the three red-skins. ~

This the old hunter had discovered,‘and he

‘bedtoldBruinhowheomldflankthe narrow

entrance, and attack the guards from the rear,

’ at the same time the troopers charged from

the front. .

Putting the command in position, and tell-
ing the colonel the exact locality of the picket
end canyon entrance, Bruin dismounted, and

j with twenty oavalrymen on toot, went cau-

tiously through the woods.

CHAPTER XXV.
v nacm’s LUUK.
Bm‘from the canyon’s entrance a couple

 

, a! hundred yards grows. tall pine, the branches

of whichrested upon the cliff above.

Going to this part-of the ridge, and leaping
it undiscovered, Bruin fastened together a
number of picket-ropes he‘hed brought with
him, and tying one end securely around a

l stout limb, dropped the other to the ground.

{‘Now, boys, we will have to slide down,"
he said in a whisper, and instantly swung him-
sell'npon the rope. . ‘

Downward he went, hand under hand, and

, , soon thsmen felt the rope slacken, and knew

thatbe had safely landed in the darkness be-

. by one the others followed, and soon all

'fwere oh ten-amid in the canyon, excepting

one, who returned to report that the party
laid flanked the indian guards in safety.
Impatiently they waited for the signal of at-

, tack, widths minutes dragged slowly away to
them. ‘

At last the skies above? them began to
lighten a little, and just then came the notes'

.0! a. bugle ringing down the canyon.

Cheers" and cluttering. hool's followed, and

, then’ a volley from the advance picket, and

lend orders from the chief in command of the
reserve torcqwhile a mounted warrior came

' dashing down the. canyon to arouse the village

,;r

and summon more braves.

One shot from Bruin’srevolvsr, and the
savage fell and from hierhorse.

“Now,- boys, it is our time—forward!” cried
Bruin Adams in ringing tones, and as the war-
rior hand in the cenyon’s entrance saw that
they were betweentm tires, and that all was
last, they fought :with the, desperation of
(imminent were soon oval-pointed, as the
youth and his dismounted men dashed in upon
thorn in s hand-te—hand conflict, and the fight
was won when the colonel and his troopers
drew rein in the canyon.

Haunting his horse. which e soldier was

 then led the command down
“Mi,

village, just as the shots at the other

(ends! the valley told that Old Grizzly audhis

v
,"

7

party he’d/attacked the guards. ,

L I Over tbevillego. end through it swept the

uldiels. carrying all before tilem, and, the two
minim, thefieht was at short duration,
but lsroe while itlssted. " , l

\ .mm Bruin Alvin-hadron

_, ma'mmumwwm,m

I l

‘ , I

h

 

maiden, U-noon-ca, who had been caughtin her
attempt to rescue him.

He soon saw the tapes of the old chief,
’which was larger than the others, and standing
9. little of}? to itself, in a clump of trees.

Toward this he hounded, calling to several
soldiers who were near to follow him.

But they had their hands full with the fight—
ing warriors, or did not hear his call, and he
dashed. up to the tepee alone.

All the occupants had fled, he thought, as
all was silent within, while the chief he knew
was oil! at the head of his braves, trying to
save his village.

Dashing aside the buflalo curtain hanging
over the entrance, Bruin looked within.

All was darkness, but, as a camp-fire was
burning near, he took his knife and slashed in
thean covering of the tepee and the light
penetrated within.

There, upon a bear-skin conch he behelds
form, and springing forward he discovered that
it was U-noon—ca.

But,” harmonized her a cry of horror
broketrom his lips,ior he beheld,buried in
her bosom, s. long-bladed knife.

She was dead, and seemed only asleep.

He touched her hand and found it cold, and
the pulse/had ceased to beat.

Then he knew that U-noon-ca had been killed
for her treachery in trying to save him, and
be swore to avenge her.

Dashing from the tepee he again joined in
the battle, and his reckless courage rendered
him the oyuosure of all eyes, and won-the
cheers of the troopers wherever he went, Imtil
the red fight was over, and the soldiers were
victorious. '

Whipped nnmercitully, his tepees in flames,
his women and children flying in terror to the
thickets, and many of his warriors slain, while
his ponies that had been driven beck were
already in the enemy’s hands, old Iron Eyes
was glad to accept terms, and he marched 08
under guard to the Reservation he had semtly
left, to go upon the Warpath.

CONCLUSION.

Wmthebattle was endedoneof the first
duties of Bruin Adams was to seek the tapes of
old Iron Eyes and wrap the body of poor
U-noon-ca in an army blanket and have a grave
dug for its reception.

To the colonel and Old Grizzly he told what
the girl had done (or him, and that she had
suffered death therefor, and the old hunter
said: ‘ ‘

“ I hes know’d ther gal ever sin’ she were a
leetle pappooee, an’ I hes allus liked her.

“ Yer see, her mummy were not a sqnaw,
but a white woman, taken prisoner by Iron
Eyes, and whom he made his wife, but who
died after s couple 0’ years’ living among In—
jnns,.as I’d think any ’cmau meat. I

“ Thor gal’s white blood made her squar’
clean through, an’ she showed it in helpin’
you, Buy Ferd, an’ I is durned sorry she hev
been kilt, an’ some day I may git even on her
account.” . - ~

“The girl did nony by you,‘Bruin, and she
shall have burial by the chaplain,” said'the
colonel, and, the chaplain having been sum-
moned, the soldiers were called tolarms, and
allstocd with hate as: around the lonely grave,
while poor U—noon—ca was lowered into it, to
beaver hidden from human eye.

r After theme the colonel stepped up to
Bruin Adams, and complimented him belore
the entire command for his splendid courage,
and ended by ofl'sring him the position of a
special Government scout at the fort.

, This honor young Bruin was only too willing
to accept, for he had. ambition to rise above a
common hunter of the bordergend be we!
urged to it by his uncle, Old Grizzly, who said
'to him in his quaint way:

I “Take ther conunnh o' scout. Boy Yard,
and when“ 0’ yam’t one c’rhese-dsys.

Wrath» his per. les- yer is'grit an’ good-
willleleeuttu'esghrterit rune is tier blood 0’

 

" 'A I\

 

“ As for me, I are only a old b’ar tamer, sn’
never will be anything else tel- ther days 0’
kingdom come. ‘

“But you are han'some as age] an’ brave as
my old grizzly b‘ar at the door, sn’ yer kin
rank up to be a osp’n, or a gin’ral, maybe, en'
marry some sweet critter ter take back with
yer ter ther- old home on Seneca Lake. j

“Go, Boy Pard, with that kernel, for he
are a squar’ man, an’ in yer scoutin’ round
drop in an’ see yer old uncle Grizzly Adana,
i‘er yer will be ever welcome, an’ he won't tor-
git yer.” ‘

Thus urged, Bruin Adams accepted the ofl’er
oi! the colonel, and several days after left the
rocky ranch of his uncle and took up his
abode at the tort, where his daring deeds as
scout, guide and Indian-fighter are mill told
around the border camp-fires.

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