| Frank Starr’s wrae No. 132-410 ot cts. | FRUIT TT TT yyy LISI) LI) FFF Te ee i At NS & x \ THE BRANDED BRAVE. FRANK STARR & C0., 41 PLATT STREET, NEW YORE. New moe News Oo., Boston, Mass, . » THE WILD, FREE LIFE OF THE WEST | - has a striking presentation in SPANISH JACK, The Mountain Bandit ; THE PLEDGE OF LIFE. BY FREDERICK DEWEY. Composing the coming issue, Number 138, of ; Frank Starr’s American N Rea | j out on ‘Tuesday, Dec. 28. Ver days, made him a half-year’s wonder. Jack was a gentleman | robber ; ; he always went alone; never murdered any one in ‘cold | : ‘blood, and lifted purses with an assurance that was sublime. The | story of this man the author here narrates in a romance of the most | exciting interest. The man is hunted as a lover's pledge, with er . result let the narrative tell. The Book adds another to Frank Starr’s INIMITABLHS, that are | read everywhere and by everybody who knows what good read: | eccbealapeiiiins ing is. Frank Srarr’s Amertcan Novets are always kept in print, and ~ all back numbers can usually be supplied by news agents ; but where | aay given number can not be found on the news-stands, it will be seu, post-paid, on receipt of price—TEN CENTS. FRANK STARR & CO0., Publisners, 41 Platt Street, New York, Nes eC} t | | } » | | » | | | | a Se “THE BRANDED ) BRAVE; on, THE TRAIL OF DEATH. _BY PAUL BIBBS. j ; | NEW YORK: 3 FRANK STARR & CO., PUBLISHERS, ai Platt Street. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1878, by FRANK STARR & CO, In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. (Vo. 182.) _ THE BRANDED BRAVE; “THE TRAIL OF DEATH. CHAPTER I. A DISAPPOINTED ASSEMBLAGE. Tue village of Montville was situated on the right bank jof the Minnesota, some eighty or ninety miles below Big Stone Lake, the river’s source. _ On a pleasant morning in May, years ago, a number of individuals were gathered before a large sized, and not in- elegant looking log-cabin, that stood in the center of a piece of open ground, about two miles from the outskirts of Mont- ‘ville, and was the property of Jasper Arfort. _ Arfort was the wealthiest, of not the most respected man ‘to be found in those parts, being possessed of a large tract of land, numerous horses, and a fine herd of cattle. Besides this, rumor said, he kept in some place known to himself on- ly, a bag of gold; but this rumor, like several others said of him, had not the slightest foundation in fact. _ It was, as yet, quite early, and the owner of the ground Upon which the crowd was ussembled had not yet made his pearance. Most of those assembled were villagers, with a ifair sprinkling of hunters and trappers. - “Wagh!” said one of these latter, his patience beginning _to tire, by the non-appearance of Arfort. “Ivs high time the show was over. Seems to me that the boss is a-takin’ it Kinder easy like, considering —” The complaint was interrupted by Arfort’s appearance from within the cabin. He was a man past forty years of é, tall, but not the possessor of any great amount of strength, her physical or mental. His hair was gray, and short, and | THE BRANDED BRAVE; OR, , his eyes were of a bright blue hue, Unlike those who greet- ed his appearance, he did not wear the common garb of the frontier, but one cut in the latest “ Broadway” style. On one of bis fingers flushed a valuable diamond ring, his feet were incased in calf-skin boots, and on his head a black felt hat. With Jasper Arfort, dress was a passion, and always had been, It mattered not to him whether he was in a fash- jonable thoroughfare in St. Louis or New Orleans, or whe- ther he was in the forest, his apparel was neat and scrupu- lously clean. So, too, was the interior of his cabin, as a glance inside would have proved. i ® A storm of “ Good-mornings ” greeted his coming, and with eh an unconcealed smile of vanity, flattered, he walked briskly — toward the assemblage. “ Well,” he said, as he neared them, “you have come to | , be witnesses of the punishment I invariably inflict upon all — ,, red-skin intruders, eh? Gad! You won’t be disappointed. — But where’s Rollo? Why isn’t he here, I should like to :. know ?” concluded the owner, in an angry tone, Then, rais- | 4) ing his voice to its highest pitch, he called for Rollo—the £h man-of-all-work for the settler. : he Rollo quickly put in an appearance. He was a Jong, lank Ro: specimen of the New-Englander, brimful of wit and guod- s humor. He was habited in a very old and torn suit of buck- _ re skin, and his complexion, by exposure and the excessive use of “fine cut,’ was of a nut-brown. “ All right, friend,” cheerfully returned the young fellow. “T am glad you told me, for it goes against me to offend any one.” - “Yaas. Sartin. What may be your handle?” “ My name is Amboy.” “Want tew know! From the East, bean’t yew ?” eee “ New Yorker, p’rhaps “ Right, again.” “Yans. Long out here ?” a. » “What's your religion? Jew, Christian, Mahommedan— or, p’rhaps, you air like me: one who trusts in the Lord, an’ ain't ashamed to sinoke a pipe with a poor man ?” The young man gave vent to a light laugh, as he an- swered : “Well, friend, you and I do not differ much on that score, I can promise you.” “Yaas. I tiort so, by your cut. But what might have feiched you out here—laud-speculatin’ ?” ow No.” “You air a doctor, p’rhaps ?” | “Right, again.” : “Come out here to dose us with physic, if we happen to git down with fever, and so on, eh ?” = “ Partly,” answered the young man, amused rather than dis- THE BRANDED BRAVE; OR, pleased at the questioning he was being subjected to. “ Be fact is, my friend,” he continued, “I am traveling for my health, and on my return to the East, I intend writing a book descriptive of my journey.” “Ha! A writer, eh ?” “ A very unworthy one, I am afraid.” “ Yaas—jess-so. Wal, stranger, if you air on the look-otit for a job in that line, I can fetch you to jest the place, I reckon.” ” ‘ “Tndeed !” exclaimed the other, hardly understanding the import of the words. “ Yaas. The fact is, my boss has been on the look-out for a chap like you, for some time. He has got a heap of writin’ of some kind or another to do, and if you ain’t above tack- ling the job, he’ll pay you well for it, Pll bet.” The words of Rollo were not without their effect upon the — young man, for the smile which had been playing upon his — features disappeared, and he said in a serious tone: “ Where does your boss, as you call him, live ?” “Not far from bere. Jess through the grove.” The young man stood for a few moments in silence. But _ he was not idle; and the conclusion he arrived at during that interval was the means of putting a different aspect upon his fortunes. “ Well,” he said at length, “ take me to your master, and if 1 like him, we may be able to come to terms.” “ Jess so, squire. Over with ye an’ come along,” and Rollo started for the clearing. Springing over the fence, See followed him. The first impression of the cabin upon the young man was a favorable one; and he did not fail to perceive that the habitant of it, whoever he was, was no common frontiersman. The site chosen for the habitation, the care exercised in its erection, the well-kept grounds, adorned with evergreens and flower-beds, bore evidence that the owner was a man of both taste and means. Following the guide inside, the young man was ushered into a neatly-furnished apartment, through which was stream- ing the -light of the setting sun. Motioning him to a seat, ~ BRllo quitted the apartment. en fr Ei Se fe THE TRAIL OF DEATH. 17 A few moments elapsed, and then the owner of the cabin entered. The young man rose to his feet, and the two con- _ fronted each other. A few seconds elapsed ere either spoke. Each was endeavoring to measure the other. “ Whom have I the pleasure of meeting ?? demanded the settler. “My name is Henry Amboy,” answered the young man. “Mine is Jasper Arfort. You are heartily welcome, sir, for we see so very little of strangers in these desperate re- gions, that when one does happen to come along, it is a treat. But pardov me—I am keeping you standing. Allow me to offer you a cigar.” = “Thank you, I don’t use tobacco.” “Not? Ido. In fact, it is my only comfort, and I there- fore indulge in it freely.” For upward of an hour did the two remain there, until _ the darkness warranted the introduction of lights, But at the end of that time, the young man found himself engaged to Arfort, and for what purpose shall be revealed further on. In the mean time, Amboy was to make the cabin bis home, a thing which, on his introduction to the handsome Maud, he had no occasion to regret. CHAPTER IIl. A WORTUY PAIR. A Few evenings later than the events related in the last chapter transpired, shortly after the hour of sunset, a canoe shot suddenly out from the right bank of the St. Peter's, a mile or more above the settlement of Montville. The craft, headed for a certain point on the opposite bank, | Was propelled by a single person—an Ojibwah of herculean ~ Proportions and hideous aspect, His dress.of. buck-skin and flannel, dirty and torn as it was, would alone have sufficed to have given him an unioviting appearance ; but it was not this thut inspired all who beheld him with disgust and dread. on | i 18 THE BRANDED BRAVE; OR, It was his face. The savage had once fallen a victim to small-pox, and the dread disease had left its ravages upon his naturally savage features in a terrible manner. Nor was this all. Half-concealed by his matted hair, was a mark—a cate left by the impress of a red-hot iron. The savage—Waubesah by name—was a marked man, and the history of that brand a frightful one. A few years earlier than the date of our story, he bad been brought before backwoods jury on several occasions, each time receiving a punishment from their hands. The brand upon his forehead being the Jast one. The crimes charged against him were various, but whether or not he was the real perpetrator of | these could not be proved. At any rate, he was suspicioned, and punished accordingly. One day, a trader Was found in the woods, murdered. His skull had been clove in twain with a tomahawk, bis arms and | legs fearfully mangled, and his goods were missing. ; Suspicicn led to the arrest of Waubesab, and it was for want of proof that he escaped with bis Jife. But the blood of | those who tried him was up. The savage was suspended by the writs from the limb of a tree, until, strong as he was, he fainted from the pain. He was then cut down, and no sooner | did his senses return, than he was Jashed unmercifully with a raw-hide, the gashes inflicted anointed with a compound of oil and gunpowder. But the savage confessed nothing ; and, in order to inspire him with a dread sufficient to put an end to’ his supposed ravages, a seething iron was applied, in such - a manner that it would leave a scar which would never be effaced. 4 After that, little was seen of the supposed offender. He 7 left his tribe, and secreted himself in the forest, where, uo one Knew, or particularly cared. As we have said, the savage was heading his canoe for a — certain point of the opposite shore of .the river, It was spring, and the river rapid, consequently requiring more than ordinary labor to prevent the canoe from being carried down the stream with the swift current. But the — Ojibwah was an adept with the paddle, and he was not ae in arriving at the point he had been heading for. t That point lay directly beneath an overhanging cliff, was | THE TRAIL OF DEATH. 19 accessible by water, only, and where there was barely suffi- cient space for a canoe to be placed beyond the reach of the current, a circumstance of which he took advantage. Then, wading into the water a few feet, he walked a short distance up the stream, when he stepped out upon the pebbly ~ bank. He was now in a copse of ‘willows, and making his way through these, was not long in finding himself in a spot wild beyond description. He had entered a narrow ravine, and before him ran a stream of water which, as it ran on to the river a few yards below, dashed over huge bowlders, until the waters presented the appearance of a seething cauldron. Growing upon the banks of the stream, on either side, were enormous trees, which served to give the spot, even in mid- day, almost the gloom of night. . It was a place known far and wide, as well to the trapper as to the red-man. The former ever approached it with awe, and the latter spoke of it as “ eee ee * place of death.” Nothing new, however, was the place to nCachoenals. He had been there often; and the awe it once had inspired him with, had long ago died out. As he approached the verge of the torrent, the Ojibwah came to a halt, and cast his eyes about him in a quick, sus- picious manner. Not a tree, not a bush escaped his practical scrutiny, and a gleam: of satisfaction flashed across his fea- tures, as he came to the conclusion that the coast was per- fectly clear. - “Ugh!” he mesitennd to himself, “ vee issafe. No pale-face is near,” Then, carefully calculating every step ere he took it, the savage entered the seething water. Indeed, so strong was the force of the torrent, even close to the bank, that one less experienced than the Ojibwah would have been swept from his feet at once. Appreciating the danger he was incurring, the savage pressed on, boldly, yet with the utmost of caution, until he arrived at a rock, some few yards from the bank, from which he had éntered the water, The rock*was of huge dimen- sions, and the ouly one which towered up too high for the — water to dash over. : 20 THE BRANDED BRAVE; OR, Grasping a firm hold of it, the red-skin drew himself out of the water to the top of this rock, which was perfectly level. Here was disclosed to his gaze a wide fissure, wide enough to admit the Indian’s body, huge as it was. Drawing from his belt his tomahawk, he dealt several hard raps on the rock’s surface. A moment or two later, his sig- nal was answered; and, without more ado, hé commenced to descend the opening in the rock. As he descended, the passage widened until it ended in a damp, dark cavern, some fifteen feet square, and lighted by a log-fire. Seated near the fire, on a rude bench, was the individual who had answered the signal of the Ojibwah, and whose house the oavern was. As he rose up on the entrance of Waubesah, he showed himself to be a\man not far from forty years of age, of medium stature, dark complexioned, and possessed of a pair of dark, glittering eyes. His face, care- worn, and, at times, haggard, bad once been very handsome, His head was finely shaped, bis forehead rather broad than high, and his rich hair, worn long, fell in curls upon his shoulders. But misery, hatred and vindictiveness had accom- plished their Jabor, and no one would have recognized him as the gay, accomplished man of years ago. The entrance of the Ojibwah caused him no surprise. On the contrary, from the inquiring expression upon his face, and the words he addressed to the Indian, that he bad been ex- pected was certain. “ Well,” he said, “you are back. Have you any news 2’ “Ugh ! yes,” replied the savage, seating himself upon the cavern floor, close to the fire. ‘“ Waubesah has found that the pale-face goes to-night to the settlement to dance.” “Hal? exclaimed the man, the flashing of his eyes in- _ereased by the-words he had just heard, “And his daugh- ter, too?” : ees. “And there will be no one to guard’ the cabin but his man, Rollo. It will take great care on our part, Waubesah, to avoid him, for he-is a devil, when aroused. Thrice, now, has the hated Arfort escaped me, and each time through kim. But who knows but that this night may see my end accom- plished, and he whom I long to crush, in my power,” An¢ ‘across “he bel he pai “y \ THE TRAIL OF DEATH. 21 oa And, carried away by his own words, the man strode Across the cavern again and again, clenching his lands, as if he held the object of his thoughts in bis grip. But See he eveused, and turning to the savage once more, he said: “Waubesah, remember that, hate, hate, hate him as I do, I do not seek his ite at iced; not yet. listened to the man’s words, he trembled like a leaf. “Repay you? How do you mean ?” he managed to faintly — “T will tell you,” was his. answer. “ She”—pointing at. Maud—* is your daughter, I believe.” ea.” SER TTee so nena cena emai. S ._ qi i 30 THE BRANDED BRAVE; OR, “Give her up to me. I will marry her, and, from that — time, all my, enmity toward you shall cease, Jasper Arfort.” It would be impossible to depict the feelings of young Am- — boy, mingled as they were with anger, surprise and horror, as the words fell upon his ear. But he kept quiet, and lis- tened eagerly for Arfort’s answer. It came. “Surely you do not mean it? If you do, I—I—TI refuse.” “Very well, sir. Then I must use force to accomplish my purpose.” The crisis had come. Both Kyd and the Ojibwah sprung forward, and with weapons drawn. : Equal to the emergency, Henry Amboy whipped out his revol- ver. But before he had time to use it—before the parties had time to close, the crack ofa rifle rung through the forest, fol- lowed immediately by the twang of a bow, Both Kyd and Wanbesah stopped short, the former wounded slightly by an arrow, the latter by a bullet in his shoulder, The trapper and Kegonsa sprung from out the bushes. The former grasped his clubbed rifle, the latter his tomahawk. The Ojibwah, the instant his eyes fell upon his new and unexpected enemies, essayed to lift his hatchet, but his right arm, for a time was useless, With an ejaculation of rage, he leaped aside, just in time to avoid a bullet from Amboy’s re- volver, and disappeared in the bushes. Kyd would have imi- tated his example, but for the trapper, who was too quick for him. Approaching the villain, he raised his rifle, felling the mar to the earth. Leaving Arfort, his daughter and Amboy to pursue their way homeward, the trapper and Kegonsa resolved upon fol- lowing after the Ojibwah to effect his capture. But before quitting the spot, Kegonsa approached the prostrate Kyd, and kneeling down by his side, placed his ear to the other’s mouth. He could detect nothing ; and coming to the conclusion that the man was dead, from the terrific blow he had_ received, Kegonsa was about to rise to his feet, when something on the ground caught his eye. It was a piece of paper; and, without being detected, he grasped it, and quickly concealed it. < The chase after Waubesah was fruitless. The dog, Beppo, before a dozen rods had been passed over, came to a-stand- THE TRAIL OF DEATH, ill, and gave vent toa low whine. The trapper knew, by is, that the trail was lost. Accordingly, they retraced their ps to the body of Kyd, who lay as still as when they had t it. 3 _“Wagh!” said Steve. “ He air deader nor a meat-ax, I eckon. Seein’ he war a Christian, we mout as well bury hh ant? Both knelt down, and, with their haichets and bands, luwed out a hole sufficiently large to contain the body, hich was soon deposited in it, and covered over with the ‘farth. _ A moment or two later, the trapper and bis companion eft the spot, heading for the former’s cabin. CHAPTER VI. WAUBESAH AND HIS ALLIES. Earty the following morning, Jasper Arfort, attracted by a strong feeling of curiosity, visited the scene of the last hight’s encounter. Arrived here, the freshly-made grave pre- ented itself to his eyes, bringing to his mind an intense feel- ng of relief. He felt certain that the grave had been made or Kyd, but, wishing to know beyond the shadow of doubt, 1e wended his way homeward, when, summoning Rollo to his presence, he dispatched him To the cabin of Steve Bevit. In the course of a couple of hours the man returned, bring- ing back with him the information that the grave Arfort had seen belonged, as be had supposed, to Kyd. If Arfort bad felt easy before, he felt doubly so, now that all doubts had been removed—if doubts he had had. And resolving to enjoy a day’s shooting in the forest, he seized his — hot-gun and sallied forth. He returned about sundown, and the first one who met him was Henry Amboy. “Mr, Arfort,” said the young man, a troubled expression upon his face, “ the paper you showed me yesterday, I am 82 THE BRANDED BRAVE; OR, sorry to say, I am unable to find, although I have spent the - greater part of the day in searching for it.” On hearing this, Arfort turned somewhat pale, and said, in an angry tone: “ Where did you leave it ?” ; “On the tuble in your own room, supposing it would be: left untouched. I os setting to work on it the first | thing this morning,” 4 Without another word, Arfort passed to the inside of the cabin, and entered the room which the young man had just ‘ mentioned. ' He was gone some time and when he returned to Amboy’s presence, his face was livid with passion. “Young man,” he said, “that paper must be returned. I delivered it to you, and you have secreted it.” “T deny it,” coolly returned the accused. “Then you are a thief! Leave! And Go it as quickly as you know how.” In all probability, Jasper. Arfort would have been stricken to the ground, had not Maud, alarmed at her father’s angry voice, come thither to ascertain the cause of the disturbance, Tn an instant, the young man subdued his wrath, but stung at the insult be had received from her father, he turned upon his heel, and quitted their presence. Entering the room which had been assigned him, he seized his rifle, and the few other articles belonging to him, and, without further ado left the cabin. ; _ He passed through the -grove, leaped the fence, and then plunged into the forest. But he did not go very far without coming to a halt. p “ Where am I going ?” he soliloquized. “ Alas! I know not; and in an hour it will be dark.” : And for some moments he communed with himself, his face wearing, the meanwhile, an expression ef intense anx- iety. But, Henry Amboy was not one who easily desponded, The troubled expression presently disappeared, and he said to himself : “ Never mind; I ean sleep in the woods, here; and as for starvation, I need not fear that, as long as I have my rifle. - Bah! a snap for Arfort’s cabin !” THE TRAIL OF DEATH. 33 And, whistling a merry air, he started off again through’ le forest. By the time that the sun bad sunk below the izon he had put some distance between himself and Ar- ’s cabin; and feeling soniewnat weary, he threw himself wn on the green sward, beneath a clump of hazels. A few minutes more, and he was asleep. How long his slumbers would have continued, had they been disturbed; is impossible to state. But disturbed they were, and by a wild whoop, which in- intly awoke him. He raised toa sitting position, somewhat armed, - Night had long since arrived, but its darkness in ‘that im- Mediate vicinity was dispell@ by a fire which had been kin- ed in an open piece of ground, a few yards from where Amboy sat. This, too, was not without its effect upon him, d, peering through the bushes, he surveyed the scene be- ‘ore him. Seated in a circle around the fire, which had been kindled dry branches, burned brightly, were a score or more savages. A more ferocious looking set it would have been td to pick out. Each warrior was of very,low stature— th only one exception—of demon-like mien, their physiog- mies having been rendered still more devilish by a generous plication of soot and vermilion. Nor was this all. Another there was—one whom the der already knows—Waubesab, the Ojibwah. The fiend seated quietly among the others, and like them, smoking calumet of kini-ki-nik. His eyes were gazing vacantly 0 the fire, as if their owner was unconscious of everything, e the subject uf his meditations. Henry Amboy hardly bad time to take in this, when a Ustling sound behind him caused him to turn round. Crouch- | Ng close to the ground was the form of a human being—an ndiun. The surprise of Henry was great, but, quick as honght, his hand grasped the stock of his revolver, and the Jammer of the weapon was raised with equal dispatch. But, 8 the click of the weapon reached the ears of the Indian, he tarted, at the same time ejaculating : * ‘a Ugh ! pale-face. No shoot. It be Kegonsa.” And, before the last word hardly had time e pass from his * 84 THE BRANDED BRAVE; OR, lips, the Indian, with a serpent-like motion, glided forward, placing himself in close proximity to Henry. The young In- dian was at once recognized by Amboy. Still advancing, Kegonsa parted the bushes in front of him, an expression of hatred and passion darkening his countenance, which won-) derfuily altered his wonted calm features. “Ugh!” he exclaimed, loud enough only for Amboy to hear him. “ The enemies of the Ojibwabs, the cursed Sioux | What want they here ?” { “ Sioux !” said Amboy, who had hitherto supposed skool to be Ojibwahs. “ Do they come to these parts often 2” “Ugh! they do come often. Many battles have they fought” with the Ojibwah warriors, who hate them as they do the: crawling serpent.” e ' The last words spoken by Kegonsa had not escaped his lips, when a.sudden movement was seen on the part of the Sioux. Their calumets had been smoked empty, and were — now laid aside. Mutttered words went the round of the cir-~ i cle, and then ceased by the rising of Waubesal Pe calm, vacant expression of a few nts ago was to. be seen no linger. His face now wore of hatred, as_ he let loose his voice.in a storm of furi words, gesticu- lating av'the same time violently with his left arm. His words were not without their effect. The faces of his Sioux listeners scowled more horribly than’ before, and their hands twitched as if actuated by a common impulse to grasp their tomahawks, and spring to their feet. The Ojibwah— spoke in the Sioux tongue, which was as well known to him as his own; and to Amboy, of course, his words were per- fectly unintelligible. But it was not so with Kegonsa, He knew the meaning of the words as well as he who gave them ~ ulterance. 4 Presently, the Se of the Ojibwah was finished, and — his place was taken by one of the Sioux. The latter was less violent in bis words than the other, but the eed. was no less great on his hearers. ‘ For upwards of an hour did this scene last, one speaker — following another in quick succession, then the savages, almost simultaneously, Jéaped to their feet. By their movements, it — was plainly evident that they were about to quit the spot. THE TRAIL OF DEATH. 85 hattering like magpies, they entered a thicket of young ories, from which they soon returned, each Sioux leading Y the bridle a horse. A moment later, they were mounted, led by the Ojibwah, soon became lost, both to sight and ring. ~eees CHAP TE RAVAL: A VILLAIN’S REWARD. wrre a look well understood by the young Indian, Amboy imned toward him. -“Uzh! The young. pale-face understands not the mean- ig of the serpents. Listen, and Kegonsa will tell him.” Amboy did listen, and the words he heard made bim al- Ost speechless.. Instigated by the dread Waubesah, the ioux were about to attack Montville that very night. ‘Like thunderbolt were the settlers to be fallen upon, and the Vvages expected not one would escape. This accomplished, ley were to proceed to the cabin of Arfort, and conclude their hellish work by murdering him, and_ bearing off his daughter. For the latter job, Waubesah informed his allies, ey would be well paid; and by whom? By Kyd. Kegonsa had learned that that villain was yet alive. He ad heard -Waubesah vaunt how he had waited until the Coast was clear, hiding in the adjacent bushes, and then rush- ing forth, unearthed the villain, who, after ail, had only been nned by the trapper’s blow. “ Good God | Kegonsa, what is to be done ?” asked Amboy, the conclusion of the fearful recital. “Ugh! Know the way to the settlement ?” “ Yes—or at least I could find it, by a little directing.” “Wollow the river for three miles, and it will take you ere, » “Well. What then?” “Tell the pale-faces that the serpent Sioux will be upon — 1em, and they will prepare to meet them, Then go to Ar- 36 THE BRANDED BRAVE; oR, fort’s and tell him the same. He can hide in the for until morning, and then the Sioux will be far away.” “And you—” _“ Kegonsa will fly with the speed of a deer to the lodg of the Ojibwabs, who will meet the Sioux face to face. Ug! not one shall escape.” Withdut waiting a moment longer, the two parted, Amba taking a course which would at once bring him to river. This reached, he turned his face down the stream, and fi Jowed it along the bank at a rapid pace. Having no fear of falling in with the Sioux, as they t taken a different course, he was able to make rapid progres his speed checked at times, only, by thick copses of bushel But these were small difficulties, and he presently had the in tense satisfaction of arriving at the outer edgé of the clea ing upon which the settlement stood. The moon being obscured with black clouds, the night very dark; but, possessing a pretty accurate knowledge of t spot, he was able to find his way to the ‘block-house without any serious difficulty. Amboy. entered the unguarded stockade, and then gain the inside of the fort itself. Raising his voice he cal aloud to whosoever might chance to be there. A momer after he was answered. 5 “ Halloo, thar! what's up ?” demanded a voice from withi one of the apartments. “Show yourself and I will answer,’ Amboy replied. A few moments elapsed, and then the impatient young mai had the satisfaction of being confronted by half.a doze men, who, as it was not the season for them to ply their ca ing, made the fort their abode. q In as concise a ‘manner as posible, Amboy related whil liad transpired that night, concluding by exhorting the trap’ pers to warn the settlers of their peril. But, to the young miiin’s surprise, his words were received with the utmost “ Sroid. j The fact was, Henry was a stranger to them, and one and all were under the impression that he was only attempting » create a needless alarm. Therefore, it is needless to staté THE TRAIL OF DHATB long the delay would have continued, had not the arrival another upon the scene happ-ned, and this in the person of ve Bevit. ‘ Bursting in among them, with the utmost haste, he ex- aimed : Bust my b’iler, boyees, if ye’ve got much time. A cussed and o’ Sioux air comin’ on, quicker ’n a beaver kin wag his Hl in flood time !” : -Inwardly thavkiag the trapper, and leaving the warning of settlers to them, Amboy hurried off toward the cabin of tfort, Here we will leave him, and relate what was transpiring ithe cabin, at that hour. Almost at the same instant that Amboy arrived at the set- Hement, a figure stole noiselessly into Arfort’s cabin, making is way toward one of the apartments from the window of hich streamed a light. Reaching the door, it was opened, and the figure entered ; tso noiselessly did it move that it was not until Arfort Was touched on the shoulder that he turned. To his horror, @ beheld the form of the supposed dead—Kyd. With a half-stifled cry of terror, Arfort sprung up, his eyes tened upon his visitor as if there existed about him some Tange fascination, For a few moment3—it seemed an ‘hour to Arfort—the ell was continued; then Kyd, advancing a step forward, Lid : “ Jasper Arfort, you, and you have cause for it, fear me. But, listen. I bave not come here to harm you. So scat : ourself, and we will talk like friends.” . On be ‘aring this, the fears of Arfort were somewhat al- yed, He seated himself; and Kyd, taking a chair from the wiler corner of the room, imitated bis example. “Arfort,” he said, “you remember my words to you last Night. Well, have you changed your mind ?” _ Arfort returned no answer to the question. “Do you desire this cnmity be‘ ween you and me to cease, or Continue ?” was next asked. 1,” said the other, in almest a tone of supplication, ronged you, I confess, I ask your forgiveness.” 192 2 THE BRANDED BRAVE; OR, “You shall have it, Arfort, but only on the condition 1 mentioned last night. I am your daughter’s equal, in both birth and education. Is that not true ?” : “1g de” “Then why do you object to my marrying her? “ Because I am afraid that—’ He hesitated. ‘Go.on;” “JT am afraid that she could not love you,” “On your honor, Jasper Arfort, is that your only reason ?”” “On my honor, it is.” g “Enough! I will yet win her! She has no other lover “None,” answered Arfort. 4 “ Who is that young man who was with you last night ?” . “One whom I hired to do a piece of business for me. dismissed him, however, this afternoon.” On learning this, the face of Kyd grew brighter; for he had inferred that Amboy might be a favorite with Arfort, and a suitor for his daughter’s hand. The conversation lasted some tine, and would’bave continued some time longer, but _ for the unexpected arrival of Amboy. 4 Forgetting what had occurred between himself and Ar fort, and thinking only of the peril in which Maud and he father were placed, he entered the cabin, and at once, and proceeded toward the apartment in which he expected t find Arfort. / He knocked on the door. It was opened, and by the owner himself. % On bebolding the young man, Arfort started back with as tonishment. But before he had time to recover himself, o to open his lips to ask the reason of the intrusion, young ’ Amboy boldly entered the room. : Tt was now his turn to be astonished, which he unmistak ably was, the instant his eye fell upon the figure of Kydj ‘whom he instantly recognized as the chief actor in the eq counter of the evening before, q When Henry entered the room, the villain was engaget ( in the pleasant task of smoking one of Arfort’s. ciga enjoying it finely, no doubt, for it was the first one -he had seen’ for six months. But now, even the fascination tb fragrant tobacco had possessed over him a moment b THE TRAIL OF DEATH. ; fore was broken; and, with a horse-like snort, he Sprang: in rage to his’ fcet. This movement on the part of Kyd caused Arfort to re- ‘over the use of his tongue. “Young man,” he demanded, “ what briags you here ?” “Something which deeply conceras you.” i Bat ee “T come to inform you, Mr. Arfort, that_a band of Sioux li visit you before morning, led vn by that. red fiend who Q company with that gentleman there, attacked us last hight.” Arfort sneered ; but Kyd, walking forward, said, in a voice intended to alarm him to whom the words were addressed : “You dared to allude to me, I believe ?” “ You heard my words, did you not?” was his answer. “Bah! You young fool! I have only one way to treat ung dogs like you.” : Rolling his cigar to the side of his mouth, with an air of bravado}he approached quite close to Amboy, and—the ‘oung man knocked him dowa with a blow between the eyes, it the same time seuding him spinning to the further end of © the room. _ With a howl of rage and pain, more like that of an ani- mal, than a buman being, Kyd picked himself-up, as soon as the swimming sensation iu bis head was over. - With great sagacity, he divined that the young man, in ite of his youth, was by far the most muscular, and the vil- lain was, for a moment, at a loss how to act. ‘True, it was Mossible for him to have shot the young man, but the thought sooner presented itself, than he dismissed the idea. ‘The ed would, of course, reach the ears of Maud, and would use her to regard the executor with a feeling of abliorrence ich would never heal Kid withdrew his eyes from Amboy, and looked at Ar font with a meaning the latter understood. ° Springing sud- nly forward, he caught Amboy around the waist, holding young man’s arms down close to his side, Kyd saw the movement, and in an instant he ran to Ar- 's assistance. The young man struggled, but it was a vain He was secured beyond hope of escapé, a tightly-drawn THE BRANDED BRAYE; OR, cord fastening his arms to his sides in such a manner that self-extrication was a matter of impossibility. “Well,” said Kyd, “ you see we have succeeded in caging you, The blow you gave me was a hard one, and you shall have your just dues for it. If your words are true, and th Sioux do come, I shall hand you over to them. Hal hal My young pugilist, they will give you a lesson or two,” 3 Seizing Amboy by the collar, Arfort led him from the! apartment, then along a hall, until he reached a door at them furtber end. This he opened, and violently pushing his’ pri-— soner into a small room, closed the door, and at once returned to the presence of the highly-elated Kyd. “Kyd,” said the other, “do you suppose he spoke th truth, regarding the Sioux?’ He spoke anxiously, “ Yes, Arfort,’? answered Kyd; “to tell the truth, I do bee: lieve him. But you look alarmed, man. Pray make you mind easy, for I can make it all right with them, you can de pend on it.” a Eased of his fears, Arfort lit a cigar, seated himself, and _the two were again engaged upon the topic the arrival of _ Amboy bad interrupted—Maud. CHAP DER y¥ LLB. A SPOILED FEAST. Henry AmBoy had not much time to reflect upon the fa that be was a prisoner, when be heard the door of the root 1 being softly opened. He waited, and soon, a voice which hg loved above all others suid in a whisper: q ““Henry—pardon me—Mr. Amboy. Are you here ?” ‘TY am, Miss Arfort.” She entered the room softly, and as carefully closed the door. i “T have heard all—all,” she said. “TI can ie you, 7 your situation, bat from mine, there is no escape.” Wondering what she meant, Henry was about — to pot! THE TRAIL OF DRATH. 41 nestion to her, when he felt her bending over him; and the lext moment he felt his arms were free. She rad severed he cords that bound them. “Come,” she said. “It is unsafe for you to linger here. will guide you to the door, for I know the way better than you,” an Taking the young man by the arm, she led bim from the room, and then forward until he found himself outside the bin. “Miss Arfort,” he said, “you are in trouble. May I ask ‘Ou what it is?” “He whom you saw to-night with my father was his eatest enemy,” she answered, _“ Now, they are friends, for y father bas promised him that I shall be his wife.” m On hearing this, the heart of Amboy seemed to cease its uisations, and felt heavy as lead. His face turned pale—so y pale that even Maud could perceive it, in the: undimmed lvht of the moon. But choking down a lump which seemed to rise in hig h at, and summoning up all his courage, he asked : ~“ And can not you love him, Miss Arfort 2” “No, no. J love another. He is one whom—” The young man lingered there no longer—not even to heat € finishing of her sentence, not even to thank her for his ape; but, hurrying away with quick steps, soon became st to her sight among the trees. : “Ob !” she said, in a low tune. “Jf he only returned my_ 40ve! Why, oh! why did he not ask me the name of hin “2. whom my heart is fixed with a strength nothing can eve! ive?” She softly entered the cabin, and returned to her own room t not to sleep. Her thoughts were too painful to allow The moment that Henry Amboy perceived that the trees a bushes hid him from the sight of any one standing near © cabin, he came to a sudden stop. , s Curious to see what would transpire at the Ane when the ux should arrive, he looked about him for the purpose of - ting upon some spot which would serve to conceal him. — ‘Afier considering for some moments, he determined to THE BRANDED BRAVE; OR, climb one of the trees near him, from whose branches he hoped to be able to obtain a full view of the cabin, and th grounds about it. j Afier climbing up for some twenty feet, and seating him- self on a good-sized branch, bis hopes were not disappointed. Nothing intervened between him and the clearing but a few bushes and saplings, over whose tops he could plainly see. But scarcely had he secured his position, when a rustlin of the bushes informed him that some one was approaching, — He waited. Soon, dark forms, flitting from bush to bush a with stealthy foot, met’his view. The light of the moon failed to penetrate through the trees sufficiently for the young - man to make the forms out, easily, but, after a little time, b succeeded. They were Indians. Moving in the manner described to a few feet nearer th cabin than was the trees »mong whose. branches was Ambo the Indiuns came to a standstill. Concealed by the thick bushes, the young man could see the red-skins no longer, b at intervals he could hear from them soft, guttural expre sions, An hour passed, and the savages still retain their positio What object had they in waiting so long? Henry kne not. Moment after moment passed, until they amounted to an other hour, but the red-skius were just as stationary as they i were the hour before. The position of the young man had become more tha irksome, for the branch of.a tree was a seat he was but littl used to. He heartily wished that his enemies—as he deem ed them—would do something else than sit where they we and give him a chance to descend once more to the ground. Presently, however, his attention became detracted frotl himself to a sound which was caused by the rapid hoof-strokeé of a horse. a The noise increased each second, until, at a full gallop, ! nuinber of mounted steeds emerged into. view; and, in leg time than it takes to relate it, they formed in a circle arount the cabin. In the moonlight, Henry could see their form! plainly. They were the Sioux. a Who, then, were those in the bushes? Amboy sudden THE TRAIL OF DEATH. ollected the words of Kegonsa ; and inwardly laughing at mself for having taken so many pains to prevent his being scovered by the Ojibwabs—for such they were, those in e bushes near him—he at once descended to the ground. He did this so very quietly that the Ojibwabs, whose atien- yn was wholly vecupied by the Sioux on the clearing, did t discuver his presence until he was in close proximity to : em, _ Then, turning suddenly toward him, a dozen hands grasp- he young man, not knowing but what he was an enemy. But at that same moment, a voice ultered a few quick words, Ojibwah, and Amboy was instantly released. ‘Kegonsn d recognized his friend. The attention of all was again directed tovilerd the cabin. Waubesab, the Ojibwah, had approached the door, and was out to enter the cabin, when, suddenly, the figure of Kyd esented itself. The latter addressed a few words to his confederate, who “hen turned, and repeated them to the Sioux. It was enough. he horsemen wheeled their steeds around, and began to rid the clearing of their presence. The time for their enemies, the Ojibwahs, had come. ‘With their war-cry pealing from their lips, they dashed Tom out the bushes, discharging.a volley of arrows as they n. Half a dozen of the Sioux were pierced ‘through the dy, and tumbled from their horses. ‘For a moment, only, the remainder looked toward their emies, for that was long enough for them to perceive that Combat against so great a force would only be fatal to | themselves ; and, with a warning cry, they again put their eeds in motion, and soon plunged into ihe forest, Lucki- for them, the wood, at that point, was not yery dense, and ey were able to make their way forward, until they reached ‘he prairie, at as fast a pace as their foes could follow them. Chey reached the prairie, and, five minutes after were riding er it at a gallop, with their pursuers far in the rear. As for the fiend, Waubesah, on seeing the turn affairs had ken, he had plunged instantly into the cover of the forest, ius making his escape, a thing which Kegonsa exceedingly. 44 THE BRANDED BRAVE; OR, Had Amboy felt, so disposed, a word to Kegonsa- would have been sufficient to have had tbe excited red-skins return to the cabin, and drag Kyd forth. But he restrained himself, resolving to mcet the villain alone, at another time, and dear _ tily chas'ise him, himself. Ten minutes later, the clearing had again resumed its wonted appearance of quietness, the Indians having departed, - while Amboy and Kegonsa took their course to the settlemenf, _ in order to ascertain how things had turned out there. q On arriving at their destination, they learned that, owing” to the warning the settlers bad received, the Sioux had met with a much warmer reception than that at the cabin of Ar. fort. Indved, nearly a dozen lay upon the clearing, the trap- pers waiting until morning should come, when the dead bodi would be pitched into the river. CHAPTER IX, FATHER AND DAUGHTER. Tue following morning Jasper Arfort, an hour or two after breakfast, met bis daughter in the garden, whither she had gone to take her wonted morning’s exercise. 2 “ Maud,” said her father, “I have something to ask you. How did you like that gentleman whom you met at breakfast, this morning ?” 3 “His manners were all one could desire, father, certainly.” “T do not mean that, Maud: how do you like him ?” “ Candidly, father, not at all.” “Why not? He is rich and accomplished, being an old acquaintance of mine.” “Indeed !” - “ Yes; and will you believe it, Maud ?—he has fallen im fove with you, although he never saw you before this morn- ing.” 4 On hearing this, she looked her father steadily iu the eyes end asked : THE TRAIL OF DEAT. “ Father, is he not the one who met us in the wood, the ther night, and who would have killed you but for the ar- ‘Tival of assi