REDPATH THE AVENGER: |

OR,

THE FAIR HUNTRESS OF THE TRAPPING-GROUNDS. |

|
FRANK STARR & CO.,41 PLATT STREET. N. Y. |
Powers & Brown Paper Co., Springfield, Mass.

 

 

 

 

 
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REDPATH, THE AVENGER;

OR,

THE FAIR HUNTRESS OF THE SOUTH-WEST.

A TALE OF THE TRAPPING-GROUNDS. __

 

BY DR. J. H. ROBINSON,
Author of the following Mammoth Star Novels:
188, Kip Kerzey. 166. Hirt, toe HouncHBack,
162. OLp Nick Wurr.es. 178, Mounram Max,

 

NEW YORK s3

FRANK STARR & CO.. PHBLISHERS
41 Platt Street.

 
 

6
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1869, : i ‘
By Brapi# anp Company, in the Clerk’s office of the District Court of the United States —
\ for’ the: Southern District of New York. ; i
Xe Gra a i} ; A
:

Entered according to act of Congress, in the year 1858,
By Cavipwe1, SourawortH aAnp Wuirner, in the Clerk’s office of the District Court for
the Southern District of New York.

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Vou. XIV.]

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PUBLISHED SEMI-MONTHLY. |

| [No. 184

REDPATH, THE AVENGER;

‘OR,

THE FAIR HUNTRESS

OHAPTER L

88 WHICH THE HERO MAKES HIS BOW, TO THE
READER

It was night on the Western prairies and the
atars were glowing silvery and soft’1. ,ae azure:
arch, The gauzy.spray of clouds sailing at in-|
rvals across the qniet heavens, obscured not
the mild lustre of the moon, nor cast a shadow
upon the wilderness. |
A youth of slender figure, clad in garb befit-
ting the hunter.and backwoodsman, was stand-
ing with meditative brow upon a gentle,emi-
nence, leaning: gracefully. upon, his rifle, whivh
was of approved make and studied finish., His
features, though not. strongly: masculine | in:
mould, were not. uncomely, mor without. the
prestige of thought. His maturity of. expres-
sion was notably in contrast with his otherwisé
outhful personnel. His eyes were somewhat
reamy, impressing the physiognomist with the
idea that hisimagination dwelt ina world vague
and.impraeticable, far removed from the scenes
of this but too, real. sphere,»

Below him,,at: the base! of the hill, the waters
of, Kansas River‘;were flowing ; while at his
left the distant peaks of the Roeky Mountains
were visible, towering in their stern, unchang-
ing grandeur like everlasting guardians of the
North—an army-of eternal occupation, which
the might of finite. man» can never conquer ;
upon his right, prairies unfolded their. seenery
like an endless panorama, diversified by strips
of timber, swamps.of grass, and shrubbery. At

a short distance from the youth, the smoke: of

@ blazing fire. arose ina misty column, forming

numberless , fantastic, wreaths ‘and phantom

shapes. A solitary figure was stretched beside,
the burning, faggots, sleeping as soundly, appar:

ently, as if domiciled beneath a sheltering roof,

and couched npon,the softest bed. The-youth:

approached the spot ; at the sound of his foot:

. ‘ ; % d v

OF THE SOUTH-WEST.

r mK

\

steps the man arene to his feet, casting quick,
sharp glances around him. In a moment his
gaze was fastened upon the intruder, and he re»
laxed; his. guarded watchfulness., With his
rayen eyes he scanned the object that had ex
cited his attention, with stronger indications of
contempt than curiosity or alarm, The youth
advanced, and begging pardon for the intru-
sion, expressed a hope that he had not-disturbed
his dreams or awakened his fears.

The person to whom these words were ad«
dressed, smiled ; and turning his back partially
toward the youth, replied; rather sarcastically,
that. he seldom took the trouble to dream ; a8
for. fear, Ben,\Brion-was a stranger to it, andy
had. certainly seen nothing to excite such am
emotion for.a long time. He trusted he had:too
long been a sojourner in the West to be terri<
fied at. trifles., He then stroked ‘his beurd, .
shrugged his shoulders, and smiled again. ‘The
young man doubtless understood the stranger’s
meaning, but without appearing to notice it;
added, that if his company would. not be cons
sidered particularly disagreeable,he would ven-
ture|to take!.a'seat by the. fire, which seemed:
to him very. cheerful and inviting. '

The individual who had styled himself Ben
Brion replied, that he was at liberty to please
himself in that respect, thoygh he fancied that
a stuffed chair, or a feather bed, would agree
better, with his constitution than any accom-
modation he could offer. »The youth answered
to the effect that he was not fastidious ; that a
blazing fire would suffice for a night so serene
and tranquil. He seated himself, placed his’
rifle on thé ground beside him, and instead of
turning his attention) to Brion, resumed his

‘study of the heavens with an abstracted air.

Atfirst, Brion seareciy deigned to notice the
stripling; but presently condescended to honor
him with furtive glanees, which, judging by
the expression of his features, did not increase
his esteem for, his visitor::: He obviously cons

 
  

* REDPATH, THE

sidered him too poor in experience to be enti-
tled to any seat lerable share of attention from
one who had grown ripe in adventure, and won
his knowledge of the Western wilds through
much hardship and danger.

The sturdy trapper and mountaineer is prone
to pride himself not a little on his skill and
powers of enduranee, and to regard the unsuce-
cessful, ineffective, and uninitiated, in his wan-

dering, perilous life, with other feelings than ;

respect or admiration. Brion might well draw
eomparisons, and measure his physical man-
hood with the youth, inasmuch as his person
wag not wanting in masculine development) or
athletic grace. In external appearance the two
were quite at variance, presenting scarcely an
observable featuré of similarity. The differ-
ence to third party would have been very
marked.

At that period there was much rivalry exist-
ing between the various organized fur compa
nies, which often led:to the most lamentable
results. The parties kept) a jealous watch of.
each other, resorting to all the unmanly arts of
low cunning to mislead, bafile, and injure '@ ri-
val enterprise.” These wars of interest were in
continual operation, ultimating not unfrequent-
ly im bloody rencontres and terrible reprisals.’
Being in the employ of the American Fur Com-
pany. Brion, not unnaturally, began to’ feel
suspicious of the youth, and query whether he
was not in the employ of the adverse coufed-
eracy—a spy on his movements, perchance.
This conjeciure was not calculated to soften his
prejudices, as may be imagined, because oppo-
sition was then raging with great. bitterness,
aggravated by mutual acts of hostility. It was
9 very important season for'those who: were!
.atbitious, to profit by ‘the hunter’s craft. It
was.early in’ May, and the trapping campaign
was about toopen. The rival associations were
hurrying to the rivers and lakes where game:
abounded, each nervously anxious to ‘outstrip
the other, and obtain all the advantages of a
choice of ground; and, with that object® in
view, took every conceivable means to conceal
their own movements, and deceive and retard
the opposite interest.

» Brion, having tarried at Fort | Leavenworth
tu complete some’ necessary transactions relat!
ing to the American Fur company, was’ then
proceeding to join the band, which had started
several days in advance Being made acquaint-
ed with these particulars, the reader will be
able to form a tolerably»eorrect idea of the
trapper’s position, and the train of ‘thoughts
the appearance of the youth, under sueh c¢ir-
cumstances, woula be likely to awaken, We
must do him the justice to remark, that he'was
not innately inc'ined to be discourteous or sus-
picious; but long experience in the ways and
wiles of antagonistic’ parties’ iiad rendered him
keenlyiawake to strategy and covert dealing.
Distrust, once aroused, is apt to thrive on petty

AVENGER; OR,

oceasions, and grow stronger ; and posibly it
was thus with the trapper. He exam.ued the
atripling more in detail; but despite vis un-
friendly doubts, was forced to acknow! xige, to
his conscience, that he could see nothirg that
savored of evil/in his comely face: He had se-
rious thoughts of detaining him, however, with-
out his consent; and, by adroit cross-ques-
tioning or pcsitive menace, draw forth his
purpose.

But the next moment, he was ready to blush
for planning such a violation of wild-wood hos-
pitality.. He, simply, concluded, to. watch his
visitor; and if hé shared the eomforts of the fira
during the night (which he seemed disposed to
do), he would take such steps to fathom his
object as his judgment might suggest. With
this intention, he stretched himself upon his
blanket. For a short time he kept his face
turned toward the youth. Anon his sight
grew unsteady ; the stranger became confused
with the fire, the trees, the shadows in the
background,'the skies, and the ‘stara; and so
Brion sank into slumber!

Upon awaking in the morning, his first im-
pulse was to look for the»youth ; but’ he was
not there. Near the/spot where the trapper:

had slept was a dead ‘rattlesnake, which he’

must have killed"before departing. He had teft’

a mark of good-will; Brion could not butieon’ .

fess. The serpent might have-wounded him
fatally while he'slept, had not the friendly
offices: of the'youngster prevented such a satas-
ee. SIE ONG OY Ads w gm

is simple morning meal ‘dispatched, he
caught his horse (which had been sids-lined,
and allowed to feed upon: the newly:grown

grass at the distanee of'a hundred yards from,

his bivouac) and ‘resumed his way in a western
direction toward the Platte or Nebraska River.
Three days passed without bringing any’ nota-
ble adventure to the sturdy mountaineer.’ On
the afternoon*of the fourth, he saw a traveler
approaching, “thounted!upon | a ‘Jarge | sorrel
horse, the proportions’ and) movements ' of
which were not calculated to impress ‘the ob-
server with a very high opinion’ of his quali+
ties. The animal was of ample size, but: pre-
sented various bony outlines‘ ané angles, seem»
ingly indicative of scarcity of forage, or eon
stitutional marasmus. ‘The man riding this'un-
prepossessing beast is worthy a passing’ de-
scription. i : Pail 5

Hie garb was strikingly fantastic, and would
have appeared, to prevailing taste; very ineon-

gruous, being made up of an odd’ mixture of ;

savage and civilized apparel.’ He was of ‘low
stature, but of singularly masculine develop.
ment,’ broad show lders, and prominent, chest:
His face had a good-humored expression, de-
— the swamp of beard that covered it, and
the elkeskin cap drawn ‘low upon his’ brow.
There''was the prestige ofjfun in his small
eyes, which had a constant twinkle. His rifle

 

 

 

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_witticisms and strange tales,

SHE FATR HUNTRESS

was slang across his back by a leather strap
When within fifty rods of Ben Brion, he
raised a loud war-whoop and put his beast to.a
gallop, performing a series of Indian evolutions
with Iudicrous effect. He made two circles
round the mountaineer at, a full run, clinging to
the farther side of the animal, and peering
over his back as if reconnoitering in true ab-
original style, shouting and yelling.

‘o humor his whim, Brion dismounted and
rested his rifle on the pommel of his saddle to
receive him with the precaution due to_his as-
sumed character. The stranger gradually drew
near, and the parties, with proper formality,
saluted, and extended the hand of friendship.
Many such meetings transpire on the wide

raires of the West. Whatever feeling of

istrust Brion was disposed to harbor’ at first,
ger place to genialisy, whem he. learned that

is new acquaintance was not conneeted with
any organized fur company, but prided himself
in belonging to that. roving, independent class
known as free trappers. whose, homes were the
mountains and prairies, and whose pleasure
was the excitement of danger.

Buekeye—such was, the rover’s. name—was
in good spirits, and. enlivened the way, by his
At_ nightfall,
they encamped together quite amicably, Brion
taking considerable pains to enlist Buckeye in
his brigade of hunters; but he intimated that
he preferred liberty to the gold and authority
of a partisan leader.

Another serene evening followed. Unable
to sleep, Brion left his. hard couch to eontem-
plate the starry beauties of the night, and
‘muse upon the arduous duties'tipon whieh he
“was entering. The placid skies, the mellow
light, the murmur of glistening waters, ad-
dressed his consciousness like pleasant voices.
_ While yielding to the soothing influences
around him, and gazing dreamily at. the varied
aspects, Brion fancied he heard a slight move-
ment ina group of young poplars at his’ right.
Disciplined in ‘a school of severest watchful-
ness, he was alive to sounds inaudible to un-

racticed ears., He advanced cautiously to-
‘ward’ the spot whence the noise ‘proceeded.
He imagined, as he parted the branches of the
“trees, and’ stepped intd the thicket, he caught
a vague glance of an object in rapid‘ motion
beyond the"bushes, deeper in thé shadow. It
might havé been a“human’ figure, or it might
have been but the reflection of a’cloud thrown

transiently ie the open space’ With his
Yifle ‘ready for instant use, Brion moved for-

‘ward On the margin of the wood, he paused
and examined the locality. He was much sur-
‘prised ‘at’ finding an Indian hatchet sticking
into a tree hear him.’ He'drew it forth’ the
Shatidle was yet warm from the ‘belt’ of its ‘
owner. A minute had not elapsed, obviously,
‘sinee it’ had’ been’hurled into “the yielding |
‘Wark. The mountameer looked for'a fresh ttaak

4

OF TRE SOUTH-WEST.

but was for some time unsuccessful, until going
farther from the tree, he found a spot where
the grass was bent, as if pressed by a humar
foot. He followed the trail for a few rods.
when it suddenly ceased; he could trace it no
farther.

The circumstance perplexed Brion greatly ;
for his skill in tracing a trail amounted almost
to instinct. Ascending a ridge close at hand,
he scanned the country on either side as far as
he could see, but. without making any addi-
tional discovery. He returned to his eamp-
fire, thoughtful. Buckeye was sleeping, and
“ Flash,” his horse, was standing close by him,
with ears erect and vigilant. Trained, like his
master, to a life of peril, like him he had
learned watchfulness: Some sound had reached
him to excite his fears or curiosity, and put bim
on the alert.

“Faithful creature!” mused Brion. “Ex-
perience has quickened’ his senses, and made
him little inferior to reasoning beings.”

The partisan (the leaders of these enterprises
were thus called) awaked the trapper, and re-
lated what had occurred. Buckeye stirred the
fire, took a bite of tobaeco, rubbed his fore-
head. and gave signs of uneasiness.

“There’s a great difference in sarcumstan-’
ces,” quoth he, sagely. ‘“ Some things are easy
to explain and some isn't!” :

When he had expressed this sentiment, he
aimed a jet of dark-colored extract at a blazing
brand “Flash,” hearing his master’s well-
known voice, came'up and placed his nose on
his shoulder, as if soliciting companionship.

“The cretur knows me, stranger, and is
restless when I’m a good way off. We conldn’t
part, Flash and I couldn't. "I'would be a sorry
day for both of us, if he should change owners.
But I hope that'll never be. "I'would break his
heart to have a redskin back him. But that’s
nothing to do with the subject; and, as T said
afore, in different’ words, some matters are
mighty mysterious, and hard to get at under
standingly. There’s strange characters in this
wild kentry,'and one don’t allers know what’s
arter him.’ The nateral reptiles of the soil have
a heap of cunnin’, and it’s never safe to shet
both eyes at night. We're tracked —that’s
evident enough; but by whom, is another
question. There’s danger at our backs, hut
which’ of us two is spoke for, I can’t say. “T’l)
tell you more about it arter we’ve d Fort
Laramie ; that is, if wé both should be alive
then.” eae

“Tt would be well to move off, leaving our
fire burning, I suppose,” returned Brion. “It
is our duty to be reasonably cautious and eare-
ful of life. There’s a Scriptural injunction laid
upon Us to be'wise as serpents.” ~ ”

“Tf parson had said that, it couldn’t have
been more to the p’int. I know of a very quiet
campin’-ground a few miles farther on, where
J passed ‘a night, some’months ago. when the

 
  

6

 

heathen reptiles had somehow got wind of my
movements.” Ps

The parties mounted their horses, andthe fire,
where they had anticipated passing an undis-
turbed night, was soon far behind ..The-spot
referred to by Buckeye proved.a fitting place
for their, purpose, being sheltered, by large
rocks and trees, and hemmed by a crescent-like
bend in the river.

Brion felt at home, The wide sky arching
over him in unyeiled beauty, with its starry
hosts ; the spreading prairies, the distant moun-
tains, the running waters and fluttering leaves,
were thiugs that had voiees, and addressed him
with pleasant, language. The mountaineer was
entirely satisfied with. his mode of life. He felt
no desire to be other than he was.., There was
@ charm (for him) in the atmosphere of the wil-
derness ; while the, certainty of danger added
new zest — making him more.in dove with. his
calling... Like, Buckeye, he had: been. a. free
trapper, but the strong inducement held out to
him by the American Fur Company, had (after
considerable hesitation and rather against, his
independent predilections) caused him to accept
the, post, of ‘* partisan,” or leader of the enter-
prise. He knew,,it was.a trying and difficult

osition, but trusted, that he should be able, by
is experience in trapping and hunting, to give
satisfaction to all concerned. “

When he resumed his way on the ensuing
morning, the glowing stories of Buckeye, con-
cerning the pleasnres and excitement: of a free
trapper’s, existence, made him half regret. his
‘engagement. Before noon he overtook. the
band, consisting of .about, seventy-five men,
amply provided with pack-horses and mules.

“T want no.sich creters as them,” said Buck-
eye, pointing to the latter, with a contemptu-
ous expression, ‘And as for baggage, a real
trapper. needs nothin’ but his-gun,. huntin’-
knife, and traps. Them men are slaves to their
mules and packs. No,,no! I eouldn’t, think of
such a life! Give me, Flash, and _.this. trust;
weapon, and the sky for my roof,-and the, prai-
rie for my, floor, with nobody to dictate what I
shall or shan’t do, and I ask no more,”

With this pithy epitome of. his sentiments, te

Buckeye shouted “Hi, hi!’ performed .some
difficult, feats of horsemanship, then abating
somewhat of his equestrian fury, joked the slow-
paced brigade unmereifully, contrasting their
encumbered march with his own untrammelled,
junburdened moyements. In Brion’s estimation,
there, was.té0 pane truth, in sueh badinage. to
make it altogether agreeable to the moderately-
moving party. Flash, in return, received, ¢riti-
gisms not complimentary to hi
, but, which. were borne, by the latter with

sperfech equanimitye y © suite asks od otore good
vq, Mo cannot ers make the reader aoqnintad
withthe various individuals of which the band

was composed. There were French and hall-

breeds, a few of Mexican origin—the greater

 

RUDPAVH, LHE

self or his, mas-

AVENGER; OR,

number being Americans from fronticr towns.
There was also a Texan adventurer, a Kentuck
jan, a Virginian, and a young fellow from Mas-
sachusetts. Many were veteran trappers, whike
some were fresh on the, prairies, unpracticed in
the arts and expedients of hunter life. °’ Thus
far on their march all had gone well. The In-
\dians had not molested them ; and grass bein:
abundant, the horses and mules were m Soot
condition. The young and anschooléd in the
kind of existence spening before them, feared
they should reach the distant theatre of opera-
tions without ineident or excitement, or adven-
tures worth relating when they should again
yeach home; but the wiser heads shrugged their
shoulders, intimating very plainly that danger
might come before they were ready for it.

They passed Fort Laramie with nothing te

break the monotony of their march. The jubi-
lant spirits of the younger men began ‘to flag ;
continued travel had already taken the first
starch of greenness out of them. Seeing how
smoothly things were proceeding, they grew
less vigilant ; ridiculed the precautions of Brion;
wishing tor ap opportunity to ‘‘ show the red-
skins what they could do,” boasting in no mea-
sured terms their ability to teach them civili-
ty. Buckeye,

heard all this brevado in silence, feeling mote
Seis to feed the ir vanity than to rebuke thei:
olly.

One morning,.owe of those who had been
loudest in his threass, and. had sneered most at
the nightly cautions of Brion, was, misged from
camp. Believing that he would soon return, no
uneasiness was felt. on his account; but not
making his appearance, several of his friends
started to look for him. After a short, search,
his lifeless body was found a few rods from the
encampment... It had no wound—po sign of
mortal injury visible to casual eyes; yet the
animating spirit had gone! The thoughtless
braggarts at first were shocked, supposing their
comrade had met his death by violence; but dis-
covering no external hurt, they changed their
minds, and concluded he had died a natural
death. , bgt Sacha eric
“ What do you call a natural death ?” asked
Buskeysigny.cat tostde ae 2
i A pomp Mneapeion, by she Danae of Head

ey, replied that he supposed apoplexy might
3 called. a Cs Seaaens , 2

_ “If it’s apoplexy, then. apoplexy’s a,catehin’
disease, and more’n, one of ye’ll be down with
it, afore you reach the trappin’ grounds,” said
Buckeye, mysteriously...) 9) |, reba

i$ You are not talking to boys, but to men?”
retorted the Missourian, Toftuly. ae
./ #’'m glad you've told me, for I shouldn’t have
mnisirusted it,” was the instant rejoinder,
.flts plain enough;to any,one in bis sensea
that thigyman died of ja disease of the heart. or
brain. What else could kill him? I see ne
wounds or bruises, nor any signs of a struggle

who continued with the band, —

 

 

oe
 

Vy ’ HAGA
THE FAIR HUNTRESS OF THE SOUTH-WEST. ”

and you'll find it hard to crowd your mysteri-
ous nonsense down our throats in the way you
think.”

“ Since you’re so wise, it aint worth while to
tell you anythix more, because it might hurt
ye. I’ve knowed folks to be injured by know-
in’ too much. jAnpxcquaintance of mine was
*bliged to take to his bed jest on account of his
gineral information,” answered Buckeye, with
quiet sarcasm.

A grave was dag beneath a spreading poplar,
in which the body was decently sstatiod The
earth was smoothed, and a fire builf over the
spot, to-prevent the resting-place of the mortal
remains from being sheeurticd by the natives.
Duriog the day’s march there was.considerable
discussion relative to the man’s decease; but
Brion, Buckeye, and. a few others, studiously
avoided the topic. The latter had already ren-
dered himself unpopular by the singular opin-
ion he had advaneed relative to the subject. He
had lost among a certain class who had pre-
viously been, disposed to think highly. of his
wisdom.and experience, that repute which he
had gained for shrewdness among them. They
‘doubted his mental soundness, regarding him as
weak and superstitious. Where before his pre-
sence had been weleome, he was now met with
coldness and ridicule. Sneers, covert jokes, and
unfriendly innuendos, passed from mouth to
‘mouth at his expense, _ .

_ Such demonstrations the sturdy trapper did
not deign to notice, He smoked his pipe calm-
ly, conversed with the veterans of the brigade,

raised the good qualities of Flash, and made
-oceasional, reconnoitering excursions in ad-
yance. It was rémarked by the more obserying,
.that Brion was more thoughtful and. taciturn
than usual, though they could very naturally

attibute the fact to the BA of the re- .

cent death. : nbriiet
., Lhe next camp was chosen with particular
care, and unwonted precautions were had in
setting aguard. The latter, two in number,
were relieved, at midnight, when Headley
and one of. his friends took their places, with
instructions to be vigilant. The Missourian
heard ‘Brion’s orders, with manifest impatience,
and demanded to know if he supposed this
was his first experience on the prairies of the
West. 3 aaa TE r 7 ¥
“You may have had some experience in the
border towns,” said the mountaineer, mildly ;
“but.you have not yet.grown gray ‘with the
Vicissitudes of a hunter’s life. You're in a re-
gion;now where one hour is no type of ‘what
she next will be. Things unexpected happen
ere. There are seventy-four of us, well, and
jin fighting condition; but in the morning it
isn’t impessible thaf one may be missed from
1e number of his mess. Ihave known a ba d
eee so be routed and scattered in a single
SHE ae ; 8
aR J dal

..,.The Missourian turned his back upon Brion,
and made no reply.

+ Lhe following: morning ,.proyed cloudy and

dark, therefore favorable to repose ; a cireum-
stance of which the weary adventurers availed
themselves by sleeping soundly to a later hour
than.they, had been accustomed. Brion at
length aroused them, and the, camp. was soor
astir with active preparations for cooking.
Headley. was,found jsleeping near the fire, an
being awakened by the clatter. around, him, as-
Sear Buckeye, with a sinister smile, that-he
had escaped, the disease, called apoplexy, in
wonderfulmanner. The former glanced quic¢
over the groups of men, replying that he hoped
it, had fared as well with his comrades. Some
one said : .

“ Let’s ask, him... Where ishe?”... .. 4,

“Safe enough, I’ll warrant,” said Headley.

Several voices called to the party referred to.
At.that moment Brion; come up to the group
witha very, grave face. ;

“Little good will it do to.ecall him—he’lt
never answer to human. call again!” he said, in
a low, measured tone. ’,

Every face was fixed on the partisan’s in an
instant. '

‘: Billy Minten.is gone!”” he added,

“Gone where ?”. asked Headley. ot
“Where we're all going, my men—to t
great, nation of the dead!” he answered, sadly.

The Missourian’s cheeks paled, while the hun-
ters and trappers gazed at each, other in silence.
“ His, body lies yonder; he fell at. his post.
And perhaps,” he continued, looking steadily
at Headley, “some of you. can. tell what. be
died of ?”,,; : : il
) | A) disease of,the, head or, heart,” mutterea
‘Buckeye, loud enough, for Headley to ‘hear..,

Brion’s,mén. now gathered about the remains
of. the unfortunate young, man, seeking vainly:
for the wound that sped him hence, Evidently
he, had fallen. where, be-had last stood, stricken

omortally, nor, had. moved s. limb, thereafter.

His,immortal part; had,been dismissed from his

,eor poreal-tabernacle without a struggle or pain-

ful contortion, ,The face was as calm as if he
slept; ,hisjlips were closed, as, were the eyes—
expressing{ no dread, or,horror,,or, conscious-
ness of, suffering ;, and the ghastliness of death
was)not written upon any of the features...

| When,this spectaele first presented, an inter-
val of-silence followed ; which anon. gave place
to harried, queries no.one could (or would) and

-awer Conjecture; hecame  rife,and speculation

and. iypothésié united, to, solye;,the, mys
Buckeye, Brion, and_other veterans in wood-
craft, stood aloof. Headley, who made preten
sions to some knowledge of surgery, conducted
the examination of the body, assisted by others
of his sympathizers. Reluctantly he a asm a
ed the search. Perfect obscurity covered the
case; a truth he was loth to admit, for he
prided himself on hie perspicacity.

‘

 
  

“ Well, sir, what are your conclusions?” said

the partisan, as Headley turned away; and passed

where he was standing. : ore “
“There is no evidence that hé died of vio-

lence—not the least. It is a’phzzling cases but *

his sudden deceasé must bé attributed to'some
hereditary predisposition to—” ;
* A low laugh from’ Buckeye intertupted ‘the
@peaker, and sent'the blood to his face in a man-
er indicative of considerable excitement.
“Go on,” said the partisah, quietly:

““«Not another’ word !” exclaimed’ Headley.
“Upon somé péoplé common-sense’ is thrown
‘away, oe sound reason, predicated’ on’ experi-
‘ence, is just’ so much Greek. ‘Superstition and
‘ignorance go together, sir !’""
* #& slight smile curled! Brion’s lips ‘for a mo-
ment, while Buckeye stroked his long beard
and shrugged his shoulders, according to his
habit: . iat
“© “You décide, if I understand you, Mr. Head-
bat that Mirten died by some lurking disease,
-which came to a suddeti ‘and fatal ‘crisis last
night?” resumed thé partican.
‘ The Missourian bowéd stiffly.

“ You do not care to be expliéit, I'see'?”
“ “Congestion of the brain, pérhaps,”’ réplie:
Headley, ill-humoredly. '

“Or perhaps some diffikilty about the heart,
pee Buckeye;"with affected humility,

eadléy darted an angry look at the offender

for nothing’ upsét his mental equilibrium ‘s
quickly as doubting his knowledge, or ridieul
ing ‘his opinions: He was ‘speciully infallible
in his' medical wisdowi—his father having been
‘a country doétor, with a large practice. To-
‘ward Buckeye, within ‘thelast two davo, he
had begun to entertain a positive dislike,
‘which threatened to Yo'onl gathering strength
until it became absolute” énimity? and: hatred.
The trapper’s matter-of-fact assumption of su-
(périor skill in wooderaft had, in the fittst place,
piqued him :, thet his 6bstifate refusal to bow
‘to “his judgment in the incomprehensible eases
of wliich we have been treating; completed his
‘antipathy.” As we have 'takén care to impress
it'upon the courtedus reader, the’ younger ‘and
less experienced ‘portion “of the band sympa-
thized with Headley, while only the! veterans

‘appeared to’oceupy neutral ground: ‘Naturally ‘

“superstitious, sofe ofthe trappers were ready
to believe'that Heaven frowned on theirenter-
prise, and was rianifesting its disapproval by
the) visitations of death.’ Gloom and diseour-
agement settled ‘upon the éountenantes of such,
and they resunied their march with ‘a sullen-
ness that bided little good to Brion’s schemes.
teow wi 198 & sord ;

inet,

of $ Oo of 4s yd. Mtisat 6

REDPATH, THE AVENGER; OR,

rE

rs ' ! ‘
CHAPTER I.
THE UNKNOWN YOUTH AGAIN APPEARS,

The party moved slowly on, Brion and Buck-
eye remaining behind, with two men, to see the
body of Minten consigned to its kindred éle-
ments, and all traces of the grave. obliterated,
to prevent its subsequent exhumation by savage
hands. The ‘simple burial was soon com-
pleted. Buckeye was in the act of lighting
the fagots that had been heaped on the spot
by the partisan’s order, when a horseman was
deseried approaching at a gallop. His hurried
pace brought him quickly to the side of the
mountaineer, who had observed his advance
with a curiosity that could not be disguised.
The rider was the slender youth who sought
his lonely bivouac-fire on the banks of the
Kansas. ,

Brion felt disposed to study the young stran-
ger closely. He noticed’ that his chin waft
guiltless of beard; his eyes large, ‘vivacious
and sparkling; his face dark, but comely. Al
though clad, as has before been stated, in be
fitting garb, his appearance was extremely

neat, and Brion thought a trifle foppish. “Thi —

idea was sustained somewhat by the fact thai
his feet and hands were small, the first encased
in close-fitting moccasins, ornamented by In-
dian skill; the latter covered with gloves of
soft leather, Jong enough to reach above the
wrist, a third of the way tothe élbow. His
small, elegant rifle was fastened ingeniously to
the ‘saddle on the right side, in & manner'to be

instantly available when wanted. A brace of

silvér-mounted pistols peeped from holsters at
the pommel, while the handle of a dagger
flashed in the sun at his slight waist.

Heé sat on his horse with grace, and, theré-
fore, with ease. And here we are brought
naturally to speak of the qualities of the ani-
mal that bore the youthful rider. He was

large and black as ebony, so that the moun-

taineer and trapper could not. but admire his
model proportions. Their attention was di-
vided between the steed and his master; though
too proud to confess, by outward manifesta.

tion, how much they were interested and puz-

zled, or, at least, not while the eyes of the
youth were upon them.

“@ood morning, measieurs,” he said, with
an accent not purely American, yet clear and
distinct. sia Saray
~ «Yes, it is a very good morning, but] should
like it better were it less cloudy,” answered

 

|
]
j

 
THE MAIR HUNTRESS OF THE SOUTH-WEST. 9

the partisan, with more eourtesy than on a
former occasion.

ntE ‘suspect’ we ought to -be: pleased with
everything Providence sends; not to beso,
seems like finding fault with one with whoge
dispensations we have no right to meddle,” was
the immediate rejoinder.

“I confess, good youth, that your reasoning
has the savor of truth: And I am now re-
minded that Iam probably under some obliga-
tion to you. Ifound mear me, on ae
the next morning after your visit, a’ dead. ser-
pent of a venomous kind, which was doubtless
slain by your hand,” added Brion:

“Tf that trifling act confers obligation, why.
youvare right. The creature was about to
you an injary ; and, fortunately, it-was in mi

ower to dispatch him before he fixed hi
‘angs.” ‘

‘For which serviceI. am deeply indebted.
If-my reception was ‘not at that time entire-
jy cordial, and mingled) with distrust, I trust
to atone for the same when, opportunity shall
present.” "

Brion spoke with some warmth, and bowed
quite low; for the youth, despite his slight fig-
ureand smooth face, had an air that in some

_ strange manner commanded respect.

The stranger's horse at that moment snuffed
the air with affright, trembled, reared, and
imade a sidelong bound. sansa

“ Be quiet, Brave,-be quiet. ‘I see nothing to
fear,” said his master, soothingly.

“We have just buried a comrade here ; it ie
the scent of death that terrifies him,” said th
partisan. i 94

The young rider colored, and backed-Brave
from the spot. : . a

‘Did your friend find a natural death, dr di
he die by Indian hostility ?” he: inquired.

‘Indeed, sir, I will request: my more expe
rienced companion to answer your question
feeling confident that he will get nearer. the
trath;” aw

“Tt. seems to me that the matter iswery Sim-
ple. Certainly, the answer must be yes orino;
‘im which case one must be entirely right or ab-
solutely wrong.’? Oo sat

«Ordinarily speakin’, yout ideas would be
perfectly to the p’int; but in the partie’lar in-

‘tance, you are wide the mark,” said Buckeye.

* The cap’n has: been pleased to refer to/me,;
but my opinion, I dare say, wouldn’t be worth
‘much. to ye. \If it wouldn't be takin’ too
much liberty, I’d like to ask if your: friends
ave farfrom here ; for I take it you ain’t alone,
,seein’ you're young and*inexperienced, as I
may say ?” 4 tof

“I hope I have friends not far from me ; it,
would make me wretched to believe to the . ,
‘eontrary,’”! was the evasive re

hyere
| «Prudential motives had cate dictated
Buckeye’s query, and the youth appeared. to

»somprehend his feelings.

somet.

“ Being a stranger, you don’t think iv pru-
dent to trust:me; is it not so 2” i

“ Well, 1 had such a notion, Is¢onfess,” said
the trapper. é

“And I,am too youthful'in appearance te
invite confidénce?! Comel! be true ‘to your-
self! Have I not'traced the workings of your
mind ?”"od bait 46 1 11

“If you: never commit a greater blunder
than that, you'll be a lucky Jad,*-resumed

Buckeye, with a characteristic: motion of the *

shoulders.' ‘“ Butiryoung heads,” -he added,
“may be disereet, and/a beard isn’t: allers ne-
cessary to make cne shrewd); though judgin’. by
appearances, J jshould naterally conclude ‘you
ain't a veteran in wooderaft; iand:your frame
is not calculated to endure: the hardships and
fatigues of this kind of life. ) Itvisn’t:my busi
ness, maybe, yet I’doadviseiyé, as a friend, to
keep near your company.’?. i

“I’m obliged to you for your good-will, and
will endeavor to take care of miyself,”” was the
good-natured ao “T sees you about to
move on. I will bear you company at least
for a time—to which proposal I trust you
will have no objections,” he added,/in thé same
vein. " {

Brion felt a strong desire to kiow his new
friend’s name, purpose, and: destination; but,
hotwithstanding his situation was one to make
such interrogatories ‘propery, he did not. ap-

roach the subject without: considerable.em-
‘ealaaineds that. could/not have:escaped thr
observing eyes of the! stranger. , OY

“T presume,” he began, that the party. ti
which you are attached seek these savage, re-
gions for the’ sake of excitement and, novelty
alone ?”? rv fe ii aod

“ Your judgment. is good, myifriend.”

The partisan, though dissatisfied with the re-
ply, did not)give up the pursuit, 052.8

“Is your band large, sir?” he resumed.

“ Not very. «I will remark; too, that their
interest, I, think; will not. to, any, considerable
extent conflict with yours, Be good enough to
drop oe suspicions, and» permit me! to, see

ing of that generons confidence, that, I
have heard distinguishes the.roving trapper of
the West. Had J been yourenemy, I should
have permitted) that ugly serpent to finish his
work. Come,/messieurs, tell me what. caused

ethe death of zone comrade, whose grave is.on

the prairie, like a’sailor's in the sea?”
These words were spoken with. an ingeuuous
frankness that, for the time; being,,dispelled

distrust. from the mind,of; the. mountaineer.

Looking at the lad’s., frank face,-he.could not

resist the convictions that jhis intentions were

friendly, his mind void of mepossiegs re
“Forgive my reserve, good youth,’ said the

partisan, with unaffected earnestness, paneing,
and extending his hand. ‘The life that } am
at present following is one to make me dis-
trustful of my fellows; and sea) up the warm

 
 

    

 

tention.

1

 

fountains of the heart.. Know, young sir, that
Lam the leader of ancenterprise: that stirs up
the bitterest feelings of rivalry in certain quar-
ters—a) rivalry full. of all manner of subtlety
and hostility: It has nbt long been thus, for
ou must understand that Tihave, until recent-
'y, been no man’s servant, nor tied to other in-
terest'than my.own.'.] have’ been a free trap-
per; consulting the stars and my own convie-
tions to govern my course ; but since J ac-
cepted this leadership, Iam another man. My
eyes have’ to be in all directions. I am, in
truth, a sort of a watch-dog to guard the pro-
perty of others; and, like: that noble animal,
shall’ be prized according to my faithfulness,
and the acuteness of my wstinets. So mueh
for my ‘apparent churlishness and reserve—
an explanation I have not’ before deigned «to
make even to the honest man ‘you see at my
side.”

“No more, I beg of you! I know that you
are the soul of generosity and honor ; otherwise,
the language of the face is false in its utter-
ance.”

‘This flattering avowal: had something more
than the mere wording to comrfiend it to: the
‘partisan ; the tones went directly to that spot
where human friendship begins. A sense of
satisfaction accompanied the youth’s speech
into Brion’s ears, and the last lingering frag-
ment of contempt said adieu. He straightened
his figure in the saddle, and seemed ten years

ounger with his: handsome face, free from
lurking doubt, and his lips smiling through his
dark beard.) 3
.\“ You do mie too’ much eredit, Passure you,”
he answered, in a genial voice, which caused
the stripling ‘to regard him with deepening at-
. “But we will: not dwell upon this
matter longer. Common courtesy touches my
elbow, reminding ‘me that the civil question

; pe by you has not been answered. You

wish to know the ¢ause of our asscciate’s sud-
den decease.) Let me inform yor that I have
buried’ two -ofour* men within forty-eight
hours, who: bore on their persons no visible
signs of violence)!’ Various conjectures are
formed in regard to the ae the prevailing
sentiment being, I think, that both died of ‘a
disease of the heart'or brain. My friend Buck-
‘eye will. not hesitate; I expect, to speak his
mind fully and’ freely, and give us both the
betiefit of his sound judgment and experience.”

‘The trapper mused, then looked inquiringly
‘atthe partisati; to'sée’how far ‘his expression
invited’ or: warranted’ confidenée ; that indi-
‘vidual’ nodded to'the mute interrogatory,“but
still Buekeye rémained silent, with his‘ eyes

“east downward to the pommel of his saddle, or

fixed upon’ the youth’ at his side, whose large
‘Horse bore him like a feather, apparently proud
‘of his own strength. Vearorta?)

“Tf Y was to speak the truth like an honest
man, as is becoming to me and all others, I

like, will be asked ?

‘REDPATA, THH AVENGER; OR,

should assert confidently that the two men hag
foul play. I’m aware how it’ll seem to them
that don’t know what I do, and never heard the
nome of Redpath.” :

The youth turned an eager, searching lovk
on the trapper.

“Stop; my friend,” he said, “ and allow me
to interrupt you by asking, whois Redpath?”

“ Ask anything: you please, sir—ask what
makes the grass grow, or the heart beat, or the
sun shine? Such questions might: be common-
— enough, and under some eireumstances 2)

oubt very proper ; but answering them is an-
other affair.”

“You mean to say that Redpath isa myste~
rious personage, whom you know only by his
deeds, or what is more probable, by hearsay.”

“Hearsay comes very near to it, but don’t
quite eaver the whole ground. »\I baveiseen
effects taat were attributed to the’one I named,
by those who had more knowledge of him than
I. Redpath is the enemy of the white man,
the sworn fue of the trapper and. hunter.
Where are his haunts, and what does he look

files, on the mountains, in the forests, upm
the wide prairies.
in’ of his approach. He comes and goes With
the speed of an eagle on the wing; makeva
swoop, strikes the pale-face with the: shift of
death, and is away. He. can’t be: trailed, he
can’t be follered, he can’t be brought within the
range of the double sights. He finds & band
like the cap’n’s; ‘he dogs it, he hangs upon it
in the front, in the rear; yet nobody» knows
wherethe is, or what brings death upon ‘em,
or what power directs the hidden bolt.) Wihere
did I hear all this? you’ll next want to know.
By the dim watch-fires of the wandering hun-
ter, in the camp of the trapper, from’ the
mouths of old voyagers, from the lips of fear-
Jess adventurers, daring mountaineers, and in
the wigwams of friendly Indians.” as
The cheeks of the unknown: youth grew
pale, and the partisan’s brow wore a sombre
expression during Buckeye’s singular recital.
He first observed them both attentively,as:if
to satisfy himself of the sincerity of one, and
to learn how much of the ineredible tale was
credited by the other, who had the prestige of
a strong mind above the vagaries of supersti-
tion. , ; ;
“What is (ey opinion of all this?” the
stranger asked, addressing Brion. i
The latter colored,:and appeared disposed to
evade the home question, afraid either of being
accused of weakness, or shrinking from speak-
ing his honest convictions. His confusion did
not pass unnoticed.» » ni
«“T am ready to confess thatyI have !often
heard the/name of Redpath up in thevmoun-
tain yonder. ‘The trappers were wont toitalk
of him in low tones over their night-firesiand:
buffalo-humps. He is supposed to be a bold

row

He is in the lonely de-_

He is one as gives no warn

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

; ; TRH FAIR HUNTRESS
wid ron Gre B ray a i Olt
and cunning’savage,of great personal streiigth,
who spends his life in avenging some’ réal or
fancied wrotg! That his doings aré exaggeri-
ted; is very probable, and yet’ the*being’cahed
Redpath’ is datigerous. “You may eonsider him
fabulous j you ‘may even smile’ at Ty Bérious-
ness, and pity my’credulity” 8 MooLie
“And so you coneludé Redpath slew your
men ?”.igun91 da .D e 4 :
There was a trifle of irony in the strangér’s
tones that did not escape Brion’s notice.
“T have not yet admitted that, I believe.”
“Tt'was Iwho affirmed it,” said Buekeye. ?
vo" Ode admission whieh you niade; youhave
‘evidently “forgotten ; ‘you stated’ ‘clearly’ that
there were’ no marks» of violenee on “the
bodies ?” 9 woe ovad 1 led
.ooBuckeye’ was: emVarrassed “by ithe’ erdss-
iquestioning of ‘his new acquaintante%! to Pain
‘timeras well as to hide his’ momentary -confu-
sion; he ‘helped himself toa generous quid of
tobacco. ¥ Like most men; he''was’ afraid! of
ridicule; and that, in fact, was about the only
thing he feared in the world. i AD es:
oT know it‘has'a curious look at first, but'a

ligna

- fart is a fact, and nothin’ can more it You

See hehas the knack of doin’Gt ina strange
wayeri 2940, ote as rite t gacworg dilisa
“T should think so.” waid bowol

“T reckon it won’t make no great difference

what you think!” retorted Buckeye, irowning.

“Not the slightest; butit is a very myste

- tious tale you have been telling, and you must

pardon a little natural doubt on my part. If
you scowl thus, I shall leave you.”

The trapper said to himself, It won't be a
great loss.”

“A story, after making the circuit of the
Rocky Mountains, must necessarily be full
grown when it gets here,” the unknown added.

“And I dare say you'll get to be a man
when you have gone half that distance!” Buck-
eye rejoined, with a spice of sarcasm.

It was now the youth’s turn to ve confused ;
‘he reddened to the eye-brows, while the trap-
per congratulated himself on his lucky hit.

Be steady, Brave,” said the youth ; an ad-
monition seemingly quite useless, as Brave was
at that instant as docile as he could possibly be.

To be killed,” suddenly resumed the young
man, rallying “one must inevitably receive
injuries of some kind—either wounds or bruises
—something to leave tangible marks upon the
person. Tell me, now, is there not some reason
in this logic ?”

“Oh, too much,” replied Buckeye, sullenly,

“ Pardon, sir,” continued the other, addres-
sing Brion, “you have interested me very
tauch in this wonderful relation. Really, do
you believe in this savage vampire—this Gian
Ben Gun of the prairies ?”

“No more than what I am constrained to.

- We may injure ourselves as much by believing

too littie as in believing too much. Danger

\

‘

«

OF THE SOUTH-WEST. 1f

tliat is apprehended is. in’a measure, guarded
against: Though young in years, your intelli
Petit face assires'me that you’ understand the
foréé‘of my last remark.” :

& “D6 you'fear this inexplicable enemy of the
pale facts?” = : fo

Whatever faultthis quéstion ‘might have, it
did'voti lack expli¢ituess. “The hot blood flew
to’ Brion’s face ian instant, and he turned a
proud, rebuking face'upon the questioner.

“ Your'extreme youthfulness,” he said, ‘with
dignified “severity, “induces ‘me to overlook
the—the—impertinénce of your question.”
8] have offended.”

“And have forgiven.”

6c PRGRKE PES aay 3. gare
oY 8*S peak no nore of it.” I’shall be cautious,
but not cowardly: T hate cowardice: ~it is a
species of meanness indicative of ‘a «pitiful
‘wpirit!’ Eiis ‘worthy trapper has spoken of
‘Redpath—a personage either real or imagina-
ry—and he has expressed his opinion freely.

ot 86 Have I. If snch an one exists, it is my
fixed® purpose to:know more of him—to un-
mask him—to discover if hé ‘really ~ pursues
white itn with thé maligility and secresy with
which °the ° ee of ‘mountain rtimor~ has
‘charged him!” T owh:that I have my doubts,
and certain circumstances stagger aa perplex
mé. "My: chiip'in'fature shall be on the flert ;
a prairie dog shall not be able to pass it un-
seen. Our enemies shall know what it is to
outwit a veteran mountaineer.”

Buckeye glanced at the partisan with an air
of pride and satisfaction ; it pleased him to re-
flect that such a brave, well spoken man was a
brother trapper. ‘“ He cried: * Hi, hi!” to
Flash, ¢ausing him to shoot ahead of his com-
panions like an arrow. Brave laid his ears
back, offended that another anima] should have
the audacity to pass him. Buckeye’s exhila-
ration soon expended itself, and he allowed
Brion to come up with him. ‘

“Your horse has excellent qualities, ’m
sure,” the young man remarked, as Buckeye
resumed his former place.

“He hasn't no equal between thie and the .

Pacific, I reckon—ng superior, sartin !”

“Sagacious and intelligent, without doubt.
You call him Flash on account of his speed,
perhaps ?”

“Jest for that reason, mister, and no other
He isn’t so fat and sleek as some hoss-flesh
I’ve seen; but, when there’s need, I know

retty near where to find him. Flash has a
ew tricks, too, that I’ve learned him, e’en
most human.”

Brion glanced at the stranger youth at that
moment, and perceived that he was looking at
the hatchet that he had taken from the tree in
‘the manner described, and which he had ear-
ried ever since at his side or his saddie-bow.
Seeing tbat the partisan had #etected the
divection of p's ~F9% he appeared diseoncerted,

te
 

 

and instant y turned his attention another way
The mountaineer was sagacious, and quick ,to
observe, and the circumstance, slight as it was,
did not pass unnoted. A train, of novel; ideas
began thereupon to whirl, through his brain ;
he seemed trying.to, work out some kind of a
ae without being able to find the proper

ata from which to start. Buckeye contrived
to touch him. on the arm, giving him a, warn-
ing look, that said): ‘‘Cap’n, I’m very :sus-
picious of this little feller.” . ,

But.a change had come over the partisan—
the signs of the, trapper were unheeded ; he
rode on, singularly taciturn and reflective. ,

“ Look, comrade, there’s @ horseman away

onder, and he’s making signals!” exclaimed
uckeye, pointing toward the mountains.

“J thank you for, your, company, brave
knights. of the rifle, and trap., Adieu,,mes-
sieurs, adieu |”
.. With a neigh of joy, Brave recognized. the
signal to go, and sprang away with a, foree
that made the ground tremble.

“A spy!” eried, the trapper, vehemently.
“Say but the word, cap’n, and I'll foller and
bring the young scamp, back!”

“Do no such thing!” said Brion, earnestly.
“And what, yoa propose,,is, impracticable.
See how he rides! Ah, my, friend, you might
as well chase the wind!” otis

Buckeye gazed after, the, blaek horse and

REDPATH, THE AVENGER ; OR,

his rider with both vexation and admiration—
vexed he hardly knew for what, and admirin
because. of the swiftness of the steed. ..He
shook his wise head dubiously, wondering how
such a silken sort of lad gotiso far from home
and what.he was good for. . Small hands ‘and
feet; a slight frame, neatly-fitting garments,
smooth and comely, face, were irreconcilable
with his notions of wooderaft. a

“T have a secret,” he said, at length.

“ Well?”, ‘sew 8

“Tt is worth knowin’.”

“J should like to, hear it.”

“But to-day I won't tell you...Doi you
know,it isn’ta lueky day to tella seeret? You
don’t, of course—I see it by..your expression”

* You exeite my curiosity,,mueh., When
shall I have your confidence ?” vid

“To-morrow, like. enough 5, we. shall see.
But here is,the rear of yank lazy fellows, and
the. very first. man of them. is, that ,conceited
coxcomb, Headley !; I can’t tolerate him, so
Tl, leave you;,/but.I’ll stroll into your camp
before the moon is up to-night.” i

The trapper urged. Flash to a gallop, and
bounded: along tke almost interminable reach
of ‘prairie... His stout, figure was.soon. but'a
mere speck between the plain and the horizon,
still growing less and less to the eyes that fok
lowed him. fe

 

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THE FAIR HUNTRESS OF THE SOUTH-WEST. 18

‘CHARTER Ill
“IN WHICH BELLMAR AND! MARIOT APPEAR,
Tt is needful that we make.a retrogade'move-
ment, thatthe hext advance in the line of march
of our story may be more orderly and. intelli
gible to those’ so obliging: as to follow us in our
rovings in the distant West.
* Anibrosé Bellniar' and Pierre Mariot were
residents of Westport,'and partners ini the far
trade, atitidally sending'fortha brigade of trap-
pers.” Thé first was an elderly man, the father!
of a daughtea: who had attained: to seventeeni
years, as well as toa degree of beauty execed-)
ingly rare, save in the! :pages of romance.
Pierre Mariot was the son of Jules Mariot,
Monsieur Bellmar’s late»:partner, deceased.
The young’ man had been admitted to. the

house of “ Bellmar and Mariot,”. partly on ac-

count of the frietdship that Bellmar had enter-
tained for his father, and partly because he
did ‘not’ wish. the’ latter’s funds: withdrawn
from thé enterprise at @ time when there was
a héavy pressure’ in the money-mapket..; M!
Bellinar might have had other schemes in. bis
mind, of which we may presently: speak. »o:/y
«(Pierre entered keenly into the rivalry. of the;
trade, with fewer ‘conscientious scruples: than,
his * predecessor. | To the’ senior | partner’s
credit be it written, that he had more of that
which *‘mén term principle, than the junior ;
but Mr. Bellmar; or Monsieur Bellmar+for he
was a Frenchman—was avaricious, possessed
of a restless, insatiate spirit.of gain, whieh led
him‘on step by step, encouraged by Pierre, to,
mary acté that he feared» would trouble -him
on his ‘death-bed. ‘The new fur company, had
injured his business; there had been a.per-
ceptible decline in his income since»,its, organ-
ization. Such a state of things alarmed his
cupidity; stimulating him to devise| means. to
checkmate his competitors, and turn the stream:

* 0° fold once more into his coffers... Strategy

hé had’ always encouraged and rewarded, when
shedéssful’ among bis employes; but, since,
the new association had secured the services of
Ben Brion as leaderof the trapping operations,
he was awaré that ordinary art; would fail,
therefore, something out of the-eommon order
niust be done, or the trade» would languish,
and ‘he, perhaps, be driven, ultimately, entirely,
from the field that’ he had oceupied so long,

end gleaned! his wealth from.’ Pierre Mariot,

who had also heard the note of warning which

this arrangement had sounded, gave evidence
tv he would set himself at work in earnest,

MignonBellmar's daughter—was one day’

, in the library, amusing herself, as she waa

wont, with her good companions, the books,
She heard her father approaching, aceom-

anied by Mariot, whose voice always admon«
ished her of his proximity. . Thére was asmall
apartinent beyond, and into that Mignon went,
closing the door. By the time she was seated,
ready to resume her reading, Bellmar and
Pierre reached the library. Mademoiselle Mig=
non; observed that something very. unusual
took place, viz : Mariot shut the door an@
locked it, after which she. heard him draw a
chair near.the writing-desk where lier father
inyariably- sat.’ Mignon did not like her posi-!
tion. She’ was forced to be ® listener, pra
vided they conversed in their natural tones;
there being no mode of, egress save through
the apartment, taken possession of.

“Pon are aware, Monsieur Bellmar, that
this. confounded fur company, that has given
us 80 much uneasiness, has engaged Ben Brion
for its leader? Brion, you will remeniber, is
the man whose services We tried to seétire ?”

Yes—theé ‘disagreeable news has reached
me. it perceive that our business will sustain
a severer check than ever, Monsieur Mariot.’”

“Can, you. d ubt it? Something must be
done,”’ said: Pierre.

“Ma foi! we have not ceased to do somé?
thing ever sinee these unlucky rival compatiies
existed. - What new expedient remaine ?”

“That, isa point to be settled by us, and
without, delay.”

‘Ah, my friend, common strategy’ will not
do with Ben Brion.” :

“Who knows that better than I? It is for
that very reason that we must take measures
bold and, energetic.”

M. Bellmar mused.

“We are quite alone, I suppose?” Mariot
added. °

Mignon, who sat direetly opposite the key-
hole of the door, was now listening with eager
interest, and without a single fecling’ of com-
punction. sr OG :

“Entirely alone,” replied Bellmar.

_.( We. must ruin the American Fur Com
pany!” with emphasis on the word “ruin.”

“Be good enough to tell me how? My strat
egical resources are exhausted.”

“We must break up and disorganize the
party under Brion.”

“You are just as farfrom the question, Mon

 
   

ee

—

 

a4

eieur Mariot. You do not inform me how this
is to be accomplished.”
“By means that may perchance startle
ou!” 4
Mignon shuddered, knowing that something
terrible was in Mariot’s mind; she knew ty
the tones of his voice.
“ We must keep the penalties of the law in
view,” quoth Bellmar, wriggling in his chair.
“Law does not reach beyond Fort Leaven-
worth... We will employ instruments that
laugh at.the word law,” aT mae
of Indians 2”. .:
Mignon made a slight moyement.
“ What.was that?” asked Pierre. He
“ Nothing ; gq on; you would, you say, em-
ploy sayages—at least, you mean so ‘to’ be

f

-understood ?”

1 fYes; our enemies—they who take’ from
me my business, are my enermies—tust” be
awed, shocked, stunned, scattered, the’ surviv-
ors driven from. the trapping-grounds” like
trembling. sheep.” ; ade ase

Mariot pronounced these words’ with start-
ling, energy, stamping angrily upon the floor. °

“There is much evil in that man,” thought
Mignon, See

“ Proveed,” said the senior.

“T have told you all.”

‘+ Foudre!’’ exclaimed Bellmar, impatiently.
“You have told me nothing !’”: :

‘« Leave the ways and means to me, and you
will.haye naught to regret.’ then eda

Monsieur Bellmar rose and ee the floor,
)“¢I shrink from acts of hostility,” he ‘added.’

“I shrink from losing my invested capital,”
retorted Mariot, in a hard, dry tone, in which’
self was uppermost. : ae

“ Such things lie heavy on one’s conscience
a@ one grows old, Pierre,” retorted Bellmar, in
a.deprecating way. : eae

. lt would grieve me to be obliged to with-
draw my, capital, and dissolve the old and re-
spectable house of Bellmar and Mariot.” > ~

. sof It-would be a sad blow to a man of'my

years, wanting, as I do, your youthfulness and
perey 3h : i ck EW: 0
= Will you abondon this to me ?”
~ © Nous verrons !” an
“Delay will baffle my purpose; accede at
once.”; » ' ; Ree RI
“You will send agents ?”
.t Doubtless.” _.,
“ Perbaps go yourself
“Ttis possible.” =
“And if will cost ?”
“A thousand dollars.” ees
“So much 2” ; Y
“The benefits will be tenfold. ‘That ¢om-
pany annihilated, we go on again''as in’ old
times, when my father lived.")7 5) 95 1%"
Z “What do you propose in. relation’ to
rion 2” ‘ ae
* Pardon, monsieur, but I will not worry
you with details. You eonsent'?® “

id

2

REDPATH, THE AVENGER; OR,

* ment thé senior: left! the, room, ‘
~ for re of the «¢ampaign, but I. am not so

’ treated, in the main, of affairs of no. interest to

“a You wilt be eareful of human life? Blood |

on your conscience will prove a barden.”

“Do not be uneasy. I will play my hand
skillfully ; but remember that I do not promise
to do mischief!”

“ Well, Mariot, be discreet, and spend money
to advantage. By-the-way, I have received a
letter from our Indian agent, Fournier, which
I will show you. It is in my pocket—no, it
is in a coat that I took off yesterday I will
go for it.” :

“ Bellmar is getting intehis dotage ; he is too
weak; too wveak!: muttered» Mariot, the..mo-
“He wishes

stupid a8 to show my. ,order. of battle ; it
would ‘strike him dumb, ‘his ‘nerves, are so
shattered.” ;

“Ah! said Mignon to herself, “ you do not

know who heard that remark.’ 5
‘“ Once in receipt.of, mag Plas he would soon
betray all to» Mignon. ignon- is. timid, and

her conscience! ie.as sensitive to evil as mercury,

to the changes of tempefature.”’ ;
““Astate Pierre Mariot!”, thought Mademdis-

elle Bellmar. rete
The senior returned with the letter, which

- the reader ;:in it, however, ocourred this curi-, .

ous ‘passage: |“ The trappers, and hunters,
who are daily arriving at the trading-honse,,
have much to say about) that, mysterious, pers
sonage whom I referred to, in.a, former letter.
Hé is aupposed, by many,:to be... celebrated
Blackfoot: chief, that bears mortal enmity. to alk
whose faces:are white, Would it.not, be lucky,
if he should:cross the trail of the new company,
and'give them a: taste of his, quality? lam
endeavoring to cultivate friendly, nelsione with
the Blackfeet, with a fair prospect of success,
I think it would be ‘well to send out.a fresh
stock of ‘Indian finery:by your next brigade,
suchas glass beads, ribbons, pipes, Also, a
lot of hunting-knives and cheap guns., But do,
not, be too sanguine about the Blackfeet—they,
aré‘a wily, cruel, intractable race in every
tieular, differing from their neighbors,.the Nea,
Perees; who’are a harmless, honest people, on
whomwe can relyin all pertaining to. legiti-
mate trade, but who cannot easily be induced,
to avt‘against other companies in turning the,
tide of traffic to our interest.” ts
Do you’ know much of this reaoubtable
native. té'which Fournier,alludes?” Mariot in-
quired, with anearnestness that he regretted a
momentiafter. | ud : ; ig
seo By common camp-gossip only; a species
of information not-very reliable, friend Pierre,”
was the response: ss sid
Is he nota being purely ofthe, imagina-
tion, think' you—a sort of bugbear, created by
sore vagrant adventurer, to, put) tongues ip

.

motion that bad been too long silent to. be pax

ticular ?” ;

 

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;

THE FAIR HUNTRESS OF THE SOUTH-WEST. ,

«Yt may be thus; but itis scarcely probable.
Mountaineers are shrewd, and the American
free-trapper has sense, and always understands
what he’s about.”

«Do the Americans also talk of Redpath ?”

“ Yes, mon ami. I conversed with one’ Buck-
eye, @ genuine ‘ype of the free-trapper class,
that has a firm belief in such a personage.”

“Well, thereis nothing marvellous in the
fact that an Indian chie? shotld be revengefal
—spurted on, as he may be; by a burning sense
of wrong.”

“Tt is not that which excites alarm; it is
the manner of his vengeance, the terrible mys-
tery that hangs over his movement, his won-
drous: silence and secrecy, his. astonishing
power of eluding pursuit, bis fearful persever-

ance.” | :
, You'speak earnestly, Monsieur Bellmar.”

“Not earnestly, but to the point.”

And then the senior added :

“Our rivals are making strong efforts to fill
up their brigade. They will soon be ready for

the Western trail.” f
_ _“T must be three weeks in advance of them ;
_ that is,|my agent must. I will dog them with
| Such influences—” A

“Goon, sir.”

‘*As—as shall greatly surprise them,” he re-
sumed, in a voice much modified, and with a

_ emile.

“©This is a quiet place to make confidential
arrangements,’”’ he continued, looking about
him with a satisfied air. ‘I omay wish to be
eldseted here at this hour to-nierrow; to confer
Withisome good friends of ours. And now I
think I am commissioned to look afterour own
mutual interests. It is getting late—I must
Meet an appointment.” i

The parties arose and left the library, while
Mignon remained in her chair, like one very
much startled and confounded. She had satis-
fied herself long before that Pierre Mariot was
a man ofa Yow standard of morality, but she
was tiot prepared to believe him so much a vil-
lain as he had proved himself He was medi+
tating crime—scheming the ruin of others—

planning deeds of blood—drawing her father®

into the vortex of his evil mind. Ah! Mariot,
your last virtue and your last chance’ faded
rom the heart of Mignon that ae She
scorned, she despised you, when you left the
house, full of dark devices for the overthrow of
your brother man! 140

Mignon went to the window, the only one in
the’ room, and which fronted the street. © The
sash was raised a little. Mariot and her father
hai reached the hall door, and the former was
upon the steps, when she heard him remark:

“Here comes Brion !”’.

Mademoiselle Bellmar cast her eyes down the
stréet; he saw a man on horseback. He was

. Mounted on a stout, bay animal that earried®
_ himself preudly, like a trained horse on parade.

5

The presentation was striking, calculated te
impress..one, with the majesty of the human
fignre, the noblestrength and spirit of the horse;
and the dignity. of both were gracefully united.

“ How noble?!”. exclaimed fitiginoris enthusis
& tically, then blushing at her warmth, she
drew, back;

Brion sat firmly and erect, his stalwart pro-
poeteate seeming a portion of his glorious steed,

is left hand grasping the rein, his right at rest
by his side, his face a:glow,:his bold eyes full
of animation

“A fine picture.; Oh, Pierre Mariot, if you
could only look like that!” soliloquized Mignon:
“But that. is impossible ;,only.a noble nature
ean look noble.’ }. Jou :

“ He reminds one of the gallant eavaliers of
the old school,” she heard her father say!
Brion was now opposite the house ; he raised
his eyes to the window and saw Mignon: She
was charming; and the gaze he thus unwilling:
ly surprised, thrilled him, and made him blush:
like a school-girl ‘eonvicted of a misdemeanor.
Familiarity with Nature in her simplestodnd
yet grandest form:of development had. not

lunted Brion’s susceptibility to those delight=
ful emotions which the presence of a:lovely

“woman inspires. » For a second,an appreciative

space of time to the soul—the mountaineer was
dazzled, and atva loss; then he recovered his
self: possession, and bowed like a Knight Tem-
yar

. Mignon ran from the window in a strange
flutter of excitement;! andthe sound of clatter-
ing hoofs followed her to her chamber. :

O Mignon} lost and won iv « single day!

Three individuals answering to the appellaé
tives of Grenier, Kincaid, and Gardette, were
seated tipon'a bench not far from the establish-
ment of Bellmar & Mariot. The first' was a
Gernian, thé second a Frenchman, the third a
half-breed:’ Grenier “was despairing, Kincaid
angry, Gardette sullen, and all were: hungry.
They belonged to the lazier, less efficient, and
most unscrupulous of the mountaineers. ‘Their

resent possessions were meagre, having noth+
ing aboutthem but bad reputations, which they
had richly earned, and were in a fair way to
keep: They/had offered their services to vari-
ous fur companies without/suceess, their char-
acters for good-for-nothings being pretty ex
tensively known and appreciated.

The three unworthies had been about West-
port; more or less-driinkéen’ for the last three
weeks, during which time they had created a
feeling of universal dislike; not unfrequently in
sulting the wives and daughters ot reapectable»
citizens, besides dotamitting various thefts!
to gain the means, probably, of egntinuing
their debauch: Their resources, as well as
the ‘patience of the inhabitants, were at length
exhausted ; they were warned to leave the place
within four-and-twenty hours. under the dire

 
 

   

16

penalty of a coat of tar and feathers—a gar-
ment dreaded alike by every class of the genus
homo. The short period of grace allowed them
would expire in ‘the morning ; but there were
seriousiobstacles in the way of their departure.
Let it be understood that they had no horses,
no arms, nor anything like a proper outfit for
the mountains. They could have dispensed
with the first, had they been provided with the
second ; but guns dnd’ ammunition were essen-
tial necessities, without which they would
starve upon the trail.’ They realized the dilem-
ma into which they»had fallen, and were com-
bining their remaining wits to surmount the
difficulties that beset them. Various projects
had been diseussed; but all-in turn: rejected,
either as eee or -unadapted to the
emergeney ; hence their gloomy visages.

* Monsieur Mariot comes this way,’’ said Kin-
eaid, whose anger-inflamed eyes chanced to be
turned to the storehouse of Bélimar & Mariot.

“Let him come,” retorted Grenier, in a mel-
ancholy tone. sh

“(Let us hold a knife to his throat till he hire
us,” proposed the former.

» © That’s a fool’s advice!” affirmed Grenier.

“ You're always grumbling!” quoth Kin-
eaid. ;

“ Letius go to the Indians !” said Gardette.

“ And have our sealps taken off,” added Kin-
aid, spitefully.

“ Bestill. ‘Mariot has something to eay to us.

I knéw by the way he looks and: walks,” said '

Grenier. i
Pierre Mariot approachedthe trio with a mien
so guarded that it was-impossible for the par-
ties to, divine whether his coming boded good
or evil. \ ; )
“Well; messieurs, when do you start for, the,
mountains ?” he asked, .. '

Grenier held.his tongue ; the half-breed turned ,

his back to, the questioner, and Kineaid said, in
a defiant voice: , ;

“When we get ready, monsieur !” {

“ Ah, I see! you’re waiting for an outfit,” re-
turned Mariot, in a tone that at once reminded
Kineaid.of the tar and feathers in reserve; he
clenched his fist, and seowled ominously.

“ You'll do well to keep your jests at home!”
he gruffly retorted.

“on are in exeerable temper, my good fel-
icw. What will you wager thatI will not make
you more amiable before I leave you ?”

“You'd better goabout-your business !” said.
Kineaid, perversely, {

“ Be reasonable, and’ don’t destroy the only
chance left you; it)lays between starvation and
feathers, as itvis now; but L can set you right,
again, if I will” f tie

»* Wetried you, and you refused us—hir-ng
gréen hands in preference ; that is why I advise
you to leave us.” :

“But if I have changed my mind?”

“ Why, then, speak out, and we'll hear you.”

REDPATH, VHi AVENGER; OF,

“You are acquainted with the country!”

I know every yard.of it from here to Coe?
lumbia River. Ihave starved in the Wind
River Range, feasted at the Yellow Stone. frozen
on the Salmon Mountain, and thawed at Walla-
Walla. So have my comrades,’’ asserted the
Frenchman, confidently. : {

‘Are you ou friendly footing with many of
the Indian tribes ?” ‘

“ With nearly all of them.’’) »; *

“ And can speak their language, I suppose?”

“As wellias my motlier tongue.” I

“7 want men who eombine shrewdness, ener-
gy, and courage, with other qualities.”

“We have all the qualities you want, mon-
sieur,” said Kincaid, modestly. ; ilo 46.199

“I wish you to act as my agents. I shalk;
pay you liberaliy, providing you enter into my
service with zeal.” 5 :

_ Agents, Monsieur Mariot!” exclaimed Gre-
nier. 108

* Agents in pay if not openly... You know
there are rival bands in the eld 2? i

“TJ get alittle light, monsieur.”

“T shall supply you with horses and al} that
you need. This is no place to give yowiistruc-
tions, neither is our office; therefere you will
meet me’ at Bellmar’s, where we can-talk e¢on-
fidentiy, for you must know that this is‘a mat-.
ter of great importance and secrecy.” inte

«We'll be there, but our engagements won't
admit of much delay, monsieur,” said Kincaidy»
with a knowing leer. ‘ ivrd

“Tam aware of it!” Mariot answered, with »
asmile, |‘ And now promise me that if 1 payw
yowa few dollars in advance, you will not) gol?
and get so drunk that you will not be able to
comprehend what you will be required to do.”

“Oh, sir, as if that were possible!” said Gre-
ner, innocently, casting at the same moment
a meaning glance at his, associates:, a ets

“You are trusty as steel itself, I've no doubt;
so here is what will put different faces, on you.”

“That has the complexion of silver, I really.
believe, said Kincaid... : i

Mariot haying saidall that he. deemed of any.
consequence, left the mountaineers to reflect on
the happy turn of cireumstances, t

“You may be sure something wicked is to be
done,” said the Frenchman, the moment Pierre
was out of hearing.- ) i

“Cunning and bad,” quoth Gardette.

“ Our consciences are tender,” Kincaidadded,
with mock ¢anctimoniousness,

“ And obliging to.a weakness,” said Grenier,

“Therefore should be strengthened. by inter.
nalapplieations. Come, mountaineers, remem-
ber. we are to act civilly and morally, and

I

: not make brutes of ourselves. Only think that

Mariot could for one instant imagine. we shoula
get.drunk! Foudre! were ever men so wrong»
ed?” cried Kincaid, in better temper.

 

 

 
 

 

THE FAIR HONTRESS OF THE SOUTH: WEST.

_ OHAPTER IV. .

MARIC? MEETS WITH DISAPPOINTMENT.
‘ i

It. was nearly dark. Mignon was returning
home from @ long walk. “She had chosen an
unfrequented path that shé might reflect with-
out interruption, having much to think ot seri-
ously. She'found herseli placed in an awkward
position in regard to Pierre Mariot, and ‘it, was
of that she was meditating. Voiées and bois-
terous laughter reached her ears, assuring her
that persons were near ; indeéd, two men were
__ already in sight, and presently @ third’ joinéd
_ them, Mignon would gladly have evaded them
had it been possible; but that was out of the
uestion, there being no, other road, and they
close at hand. She went forward Uni sitating-’
ly, with what resolution she could consmand, not
even rafsing her eyes to the faces of the’ill-man-
nered, trio, pné of whom placed hitaself so'as to
obstruct the may Rude jests assailed Mignon ;
she was alarmed. ee ’
, ‘If the people of the town ‘threaten us, to"
repay them we will insult their'daughtérs,” said
one, staggering’ toward Mademoiselle Bellmat.

_ “Tis mo, more than just,” cried “a second.’

. “Hush, she is pale—she will faint!” added

Sythe, snéeringly. —“ nee
7..0h, how delieate you are, miss!) And what
pretty goods you wear!’ Dear mé."not so fast,’
now ; you will deprive us of yeu éompaity too!
g00n,” resumed he who had first spoken, iy the
slow, thick utterance of a drunken man’
“Oh, you are a great deal better. than’ poor’
fellows like us. But it is stich as we who thake
your townsmen ‘tich, and’ we’ get ‘for it’ only
threats and bad words.” >" eee
Mignon recoiled with a éry of terror, for one
ofthe villains had the. insolence to grasp. her
arm,,em plying’ language that mide’ her checks
redden with shame and indignation. “She had
the presence of mind to ery for assistangé ; and!
it came promptly and resolutely.” “A man Whose
eyes seemed to enlit lightning, scattered the in-
sulters, ‘end supported Mignon.” His présence
was a Gibraltar of strength to‘ Mignon—theré’
Was such noble determination in his face, such
manlinéss itt fits shdpel¥ figure.’ She rdéognizel!
the horseman who .had ridden. so g&llantly+
Ben Buidti, the fe peer tg Pon had
deen metitidned by’ Mariot. U'"! Hom omenay
~ Mademoiselle Waa'so pretty, ’o'eigagg “in

Ww

her deportment, so gracefal and :warm’ in ths
expression of her gratitude, that! the partisay
sighed when he left’ her, regretting that bis cail-
ing would’'so soon take him’ from Westport,
from the vieinage of'the only womanwho had
ever quickened the’ pulsations of ‘his honest
heart. :

Pierre Mariot ad a long: conversation with
Grenier, Kincaid, and Gardette,.at the time ap-

yointéed, Miss Bellmarswas-asypunctual as he,

lieving’ it not an’ acti of'meanness'to: hear the
development ofa nefarious scheme forthe injury:
of those pursuing a lawful — honorable busi-
ness.

It\ would not beedifying to the reader to state
all that:was said in detail ; a few of the most
important points willbe touched upon.

“T think syou'told me,’ messieurs mountain-
eers;” said’ Pierre, graciously,‘ that your en-
gagement would compel you to leave Westport
at ‘an éarly hour to-day ?”

‘We have but an hour's gracé, monsiéur ; ang
theii' thu éanaille of this accursed place will be
upon us,” répjied Kincaid, who acted as spokes-
man for his comrades. S

ms me the canaille alone, worthy hunter; for
the more respectable townsmen aré much'exas-
perated af your free-and-easy manners. T-fear
te have acted seandilously, but that ‘is no

usiness of mifie; it’ deranges my plans a little,

but I can get along’ Now, we will to the mat-
ter itv hand? Thopé you are'sober enough to
cémpréhend ?” EPC ie '

Mariot assumed a different tone and bearing;
he spoke’ firmly, ‘detertninedly, “and rap,
Keeping bis keenly penetrating eyes fixedstead-
ily’ upon his listeners:’ LS (is ecg
“YT waiit'men that’ can’ act disereetly—not
those who can only get drunk and act the brag:
gart and brawler. “If T employ-you,. and pay
you)/yéu titist do my bidding to the letter, and
without useless questioning. I know that you:
are not scrupulous?®' ‘Keep’ silent; © if/‘you
were honest men, youw'svould ‘not'do for me ;
and if you flatter yourselves that you ‘are such,
yow have 'only'té walk’ out of the house ;"for in
that case our negotiations will stop at onee. » I
wantstibtlen. ia xs wu
“ Olynidnsivar; T thust you were not going to!
say knaves !” interrupted Kineaid.
leqyred! @ fellows, willing to earn their
money according ‘tothe wishes of their employ-!
devote howe lan. You are to start this

very day, for I wish you to be some ‘weeks: ir

 
 

 

18 REDPATH, THE AVENGER } OR;

advance of the band about to be sent out by the
American Fur Company, of which Brion is
captain. Your business will be to vex, annoy,
mislead, deceive, undermine, injure, and if pos-
sible, annihilate the rival enterprise. You are to
operate upon the Indians by truth or falsehood
—-just which will best serve your purpose, and
by presents. You will sour the minds of those
disposed to be friendly, and excite to a greater
degree; the enmity of those already-hostile to
white men. With all. yoar knowledge of sava-
ges, you will have no troublein effecting: this.
Are you understanding me, messieurs'?”?

Tue parties signified that they were.

“Tn your rovings over the;mountains, you
have doubtless heard the name of Redpath.
Come, tell me the truth—is there, or is there
not such a briag 2”

The sun-browned. face of Kineaid grew a
shade whiter; be took his own time to reply,
speaking slowly, and with less assurance.

‘* Redpath is as real as you or I, or Gardette,
or Grenier, or anybody that lives.”

“There, youare serious now. And, pn ae
your lipsare pale. [see that you are not above
the weakness of superstition. Are the deeds ot
this red searecrow dark and terrible ?””

«To those whom he devotes to his vengeance,
yes., But we never talk much of him when the
other side of the South Pass; at least, myself
and. companions..don’t; he is apt to be near
when talked of. We breathe his name in a
whisper on the trapping grounds, especially at
night, when ourjfires are lighted ”

“Is it during the night time only, that he
strikes his victims ?”

“ Av all times and seasons, monsieur.””

“ And is it true,” continued Mariot, sinking
his voice, ‘that he kills without, leaving the
sign of violence on the body.?”’

** So it is rumored, but I have heard that it
is not always the case. But whydo you ques.
tion me ?”

“If you are quick at catching an idea, you
have already surmised. If there is such a
character as Redpath, I wish to unloose him,
like a fierce bloodhound, on the trail ef Brion’s
band.”

‘Ah, monsieur, who will risk his sealp to put
him on the scent ?”’ exclaimed Grenier, with a
shudder: ‘ ;

He is said to be a Blackfoot !”

“Yes,” responded Kineaid.

.“ And the Blackfeet—”

“ Are the pests and terror of the trappers,”
the former added. f
‘ But Gardette,” said Grenier, and then ste p-
ped, looking inquiringly at the half-breed.

“ Gardette,”’ repeated, Pierre. v3
“ Has lived with them and speaks the Black.
foot language,” added Kincaid.
“Then he can unchain the hound |" serumed
Mariot, calmly.

 

“ But that, you know, would result in loss of
life, monsiesr ”

“What do you think, my good fellow ?” Ma-
riot inquired, turning to Gardette.

“JT prefer to have as little to do with Red-
path as possible.”

Pierre Mariot slipped some money into the
half-breed’s hand, saying :

“But you will see if the thing can be done ?”

Gardette nodded) © )

“Let it be so understood ; and if you are
successful, you shall receive—” :

The rest of the communication Was’ whis-
pered, and Mignon did not hear it.

“ We must _be off,” said Grenier.

“Go to Fort Leavenworth, and your horses
and outfit, shall be sent after you. I will go
myself to give you further instructions. Dé you’
respectively agree to carry out the spirit of my’
wishes?”

“We do; we will do our best, or rather our
worst. We are yours.”

“Everything shall be prepared without da-
lay. So begone, if you would save the suit the
inhabitants promised you.”

The conference broke up, leaving Mignon to
make what use she pleased of that which she
had heard, and to think what she might of the
character of Pierre. She both loathed and

itied the man that could deliberately plan the

estruction of human life. She met him an
hour afterward, pale but calm. His features
were softened by smiles of affected gaiety—he
studied to assume his most apretabie phases
and phrases. His playfulness might have been
amusing had it been sincere. Mignon permitted
him to exhaust his pleasantries with an ap-
pearance of complaisance quite at “variance
with her feelings, well knowing there was
sometuing more serious behind Monsieur Ma-
riot’s good humor. He grew sentimental and
graciously grave —indications that he was
nearing the point.
ic In view of our approaching marriage,” he

an,

e What did you say, sir?” asked Mignon.

“T was going to observe, that in view of our
approaching marriage—” :

“ Marriage, Monsieur Mariot? Did you not
say marriage ?” aes

“That air was charmingly put on, Mignon!
Yes, I said the word youhave repeated with so
much emphasis.”

“Please allow me to inquire to what parties
the word ‘ our’ is intended to apply LEN

“To your eharming self and your humble
servant, Pierre Mariot,” he returned, bowing.

“That is news indeed! How facetious you
are to-day. I have not seen you eo amusing for
a long time.” .

“Tt is you who are facetious, it seems to me,
Mademoiselle Bellmar. Your father and I eon-
versed seriously on this subject last night; he

at 5. ,
 

THE FAIR HUNTRESS

with me chat farther procrastination is
unnecessary. You are aware that it was the
intention of dur parents that we should be

united when of a proper‘age. Such a compact
“vas made when we were but children. I think

my attentions to you have been of a character
not to be misunderstood. I believed that my
advances were received as they were intended ;
that your own sympathies as well as the wishes

ot your father were in my favor, leading you :
naturally to expect that the day of our ‘union

must be near at hand ; it has often been referred
to by me in your hearing, as an event long cal-
culated upon.”

“ Monsieur Mariot, I know nothing of a mar-
riage to take place between you and 1,” said
Mignon, calmly. '

“Mignon, you jest with such a serious air

- that you alarm me!” exclaimed Pierre, turning
“very pale.

“Beassured there will be no marriage be-

«tween us,” she added, in the same tone.

“You positively alarm me: Your manner
is really chilling. Do you mean to be under-
stood that all is at end between us?”

“T simply mean to say that I shall never

umarry you, Monsieur Mariot.”’

“ Mademoiselle Bellmar ?” i

“ Am I sufficiently plain in my speech to b
apprehended ?”

“You are cruelly plain if you are in earnest,”
he replied.

“J never was, and never expect to be more in
earnest than at this moment. You are to re-
¢eive this decision as final.”

“Oh, I cannot believe this—it is too unex-
pected,” cried Mariot, in a hoarse voice.

“Your vanity led you to expect nothing but
success. You were always vain, Pierre Mariot.
But, thank Heaven! I have never offered in-
eense to your vanity.”

Mariot’s: pale cheeks flushed when Mignon
‘poke of his vanity ; the shaft went home:

“I must go to:your father. I must know the
meaning of this.. I will beg of him to'bring you
£0 reason.”

“Ts it my father that yon wish to marry,
onsieur, or his daughter?” :

“Mignon, you'are killing me !”

.* The gifted and the good die young.”

“What bitterness, Mademoiselle; Beilmar.
Will you not ‘regret ‘this? I may lose’ pa-
tience, and remorse may visit you when ‘it is
too late.”

“Your vanity spoke then ; but do not trou-
ble yourself, I beg of you. When I repent my
present decision, Tshell better apprehend your
‘menace. You wish to insinuate that I shall
Sustain a great loss. Believe me, now, I am
perfectly resigned to it!” she rejoined.

‘ What will your worthy father say when he
knows your determination’? Mignon, spare
him auch grief, this union has been th
of Wain life!” jbosd

OF THE SOUTH-WEST. 19

“ Are you then such a desirable son-in-law ?

Mariot' felt: himself'demolished and prostrat-
ed.» His pride was in ‘ruins, but: his ‘anger
streamed ‘like ‘fire above the wreck. “He was
astounded and at a loss. He knew not whether
to retreat or go’ forward; his fair enemy had
taken him so much by surprise.

“Go, Monsieur Mariot, and forget'me. There
is no possibility that my‘feelings will change.
I refuse you for the best réason in the world.
I do not like you.’ Would you wed a woman
who makes this confession ?”

“Yow are’ jealous, perhaps?” said Mariot,
faintly: 1 ,

“There is your unpardonable vanity again.
Lovers only are jealous, and I cannot in ‘the
nature of things be jealous of aman whose pre-
sence isirksome. ‘It is time this ‘interview
ended. I wish you happiness with one more
like you in heart. Adieu, sir.”

Mademoiselle Mignon’ arose, bowed ceremo-
niously, that is coldly, aud left Mariot alone,
who, a moment ‘later, was heard hurrying
through the hall to the stréet. Y

 

A month after the events just recorded, at
the close of a day which had been uncommun-
ly fine, a man’on horseback approached s suc-
cession of rugged hills and defiles in the viein
age of those extensive prairies lying along the
Nebraska River’ for many miles, the favorite
hunting. grounds of the dreaded Blackfeet.’ It
would have puzzled a hunter, even, to ha've
determined whether the horseman was a white
man or an Indian. Indeed, he could not wel!
merit the term white, his rough features being
much burned by the vehement suns: of the
oe There was nothing very notable about
his appearance. His horse was a strong, tough
nag, chosen more for his powers of enduraiiee
thari for speed or beauty; while the rider and
his belongings filled: up the picture of a’ free-
trapper, very well provided for the practi¢e of
his vocation.

He proceeded moderately, and with much
eircumspection, as if conscious that he was in
# situation requiring constant vigilance. Soon
he entered a valley almost destitute, of vegeta-

» tion, and at that hour gloomy as it was sterile

The trapper dismounted, after going the dis-
tance of a hundred’rods or more, then turned
to the right into a gully worn by a stream ot
water during the wet seasons, leading his horse
by the bridle. The way must have been well-
known to him, for he went forward with a con-
fident step; though ‘retaining his watchful de-
ortment, like one resolutely determined not to
surprised by an enemy. For the next half
hour he continued to advance, frequently paite-
ing a moment to listen. He stopped in asmall
basin or hollow, shut in by trees and rocks—«
spot that might be easily overlooked by a thow
sand men searching for a hiding-place, Near
the middle of the diugle, half-buried in wild

 
  

 

 
    
   
 
 
  
 
    
  
   
 
  
 
  
  
   
   
   
  
   

 

 

     

  

ba REDPATH, THE
shrubbery, there. was ahut made;of sticks, and
covered with bark,-and which might: have 'es-
eapedia less vigilant eye; toward that, humble
fahuation, the trapper directed his steps. He
ushed, open the, door, and a. start of surprise
indicated that-he-had made a discovery unex-
cted, and. not wholly, agreeable. -A dusky
gure, reposing by a fire that faintly glowed on
ithe ground; sprang to his\feet, and drew. his
hunting knife the instant the intruder looked
in ; but seeing who had.disturbed him, returned
the.weapon to its,sheath, keeping his hand on
the handle, however, as if not altogether) de-
aia whether to, assume a hostile attitude or
not.; , ih he aghiag @
 Ravenglaw!”, exclaimed the trapper. .,
_. “ Beavertaker |” said the other, in, the gut-
tural, tones of the red, man. ur
“Why do you come!to the hunting-grounds

of, the Blackfoot ?”’. he asked, with ascowl of

suspicion, f

my home is with, her people. | Does it seem
strange to my brotherthat the heart of Beaver-

, taker.is heavy when he dwells'in the wigwams
_of the pale-faces 2?” ; ;

oo i What,is that you say? “Are not your veins
poisoned with the blood ofthe white man ?. Can
you. belong to the warlike, Blackfoot, till.you

_bave.bled. away, the venom) of the palle-faces ?

No, you. will be butja woman, among warriors,
achild among men,” replied Rayenclaw, dis-
dainfully., { itothw boning
ioef* Your thoughts are sour, and your, words
,are bitter. Hear me, Ravenclaw. I have been
among.the white men and found, their hearts

_ full. of hatred.;, they drove me forth’as.if I,had
been a worthless #08: fig only to hunger and die
on..the,prairie. 1 sheokamy: hatehet at. them,
end came away with my,heart burning for ven-

eance., L.ghouted the war-whoop of the brave

. Blackfoot nation, and turned my back on them.
I said, I will go back to my adopted-people,
sand. tell them,my,wrongs, and ask.them» to lie
in. wait, with;me, to, take the,scalps, of my ene-

wmies. .That.is what I swore,todo, and behold

hh Apaybered,isisest) deosle yeilav'a borers od

»| -Rayenclaw.gave a slight, exclamation of ap-
probation, oy todis il moot RST OI &

jo fh eame here to.getinews.of my wife, and; to
iqunite myself tavher people fonever: But the

oheart of Rayenclaw.gives, me noqwelcome, and
jhe, tells me nothing .ofimy *wife.||,j1/ hae, no

-Atignda, nohomes no, mation.) Eiwill goo and
dwell in,solitude withthe wild, beasta?”) gsi
ofati Some men have two facesand.tiy o tongues,”
ypaid Ravenclaw; ‘/Dhey,show one: face;to the
white man, and another to‘the ted ; they: talk
(with one tongue.to the pale-face, and, withthe

»othente the Indian.” «i juice waliend 1 aisad
swoftjh, understand 5 you-think I come: toicyou
uwith adie inmy mouth—withahollow heart
jand empty bands: .Butjyouishall sd? ocd

Beavertaker called to his horse; the beast

“eri fi eome, beeause,my. wife is a Blackfoot, and:

 

AVENGER ; OR,

came to his side , he relieved him of his burden
and ‘turned him loose. .A package which had
been fastened to the erupper, he carried inte
the hut and opened. It contained various ar
ticles valued by Indians, beads, ribbons, high-
colored stuffs, small mirrors, knives, ete.

An expression of contempt grew upon the
Blackfoot’s face. ‘ i ‘

“These things I have, brought from the
distant, wigwams of) the ‘pale-faces; let my
brother take what he likes, and the heart of
Beavertaker will grow light: again,” said the
half-breed. :

Ravenclaw did not design’ to look ‘st the
goods, and his brow/contractel threateningly.

“What am I,” he cried, in a startling yoide,
‘f that’ these pitiful trifles should be offeréd me!
Am Ia vain squaw, to covetisuch petty 'gew-
gaws? You are not wise, Beavertaker,:you
are not wise; you donot yet know'the‘goul of
Ravenelaw. He wants no such foolery—he
wants but his arms and his horse; more would
bea burden to: hinder his movements. «You
might dazzle the eyes of silly women with
your gay wares, but-the eyes of a true warrior
ean look at the sun without being dazzled.
For this insult you deserve 0 die I?"

’¥onare in bad temper, my brother. I will
pack up my goods and go in séareh of my wife;
and)see if she is also my enemy.” )

“ Listen: when the white man wishes to'de-
.ceive, the. Indian, he commences: giving ‘him |
presents, and he ends: by eutting his throat. —
Wa-wa i it is these présents of worthless stuff
that are destroying thé'red races: Fools are
they all who accept presents from the handa
of theiartful pale-face. Take them fromm
sight, lest Fgo mad and kill you!” -so%%

Beaver bound up. his gi nds, and placed: the
package out of sight. “soi v1) 5
oout{ You doubt me; but hear what: I will tell
you, and doubt. no longer. )A large party: of
the, race you hate are‘at hands; they are’ going
«to the (mountains to trap,.vand they: have
brought many packs of goods to buy «peltries
with. I will-head a party: of Blackfoot ‘war-
riors to surprise themmoi a) eo 1!

“That is*tbetter; | ‘but:<Ravenclaw always
finds an.enemy without a guide,’ returned the
Indian, proudly. boaieddid :
ay “Do youdongér doubt me ?” asked the half
aibreed, ealmaly. jiviv 40: TOHTST DIR ,9Ore

“T believe you would destroy when itis your
interest to. destroy?) odo: id re
vor “And I have another plan to'revenge myself
con. these’ people,-who are robbing*our bunting
(jand trapping: grounds: of game,” said “Beaver:
ptaker,inya suppressed voice.’ . 2

“ Speak.’ d o+ badges 2
of “2 -owill seek for him at the’ mention of
,whose name! the white man) trembles —Réd-
paslYd weed ead mois iff Qolry Howe cwcle

“Redpath!” repeated Ravenclaw, witha
searching glance at the balf-breed.

 

 
 

 

_ the. buffaloes. that will: soon “cover

THE FAIR HUNTRESS OF THR SOUTH WEST. o

“Ts the name vf Redpath strange to the ears
of Ravenclaw? Has he not heard of his deeds,
and rejoiced that there was one so daring
amorg the warriors of the mighty Blackfeet ?
Is he deaf to the fame of the most dreaded of
the red men of his nation?”

“T know him not,” replied Ravenclaw.

“My brother’s eyes are sharp; he can see a
great distance, and he has a cunning under-
standing to comprehend that which is hidden,
and to know the secrets of his people,” con-
tinned! Beavertaker, adroitlye” oe}!
-)“Dhe tongue of Beavertaker is.crafty.in the
use-of words, and he goes! after-seerets like a
serpent crawling throagh the’ grass. But: let
him beware}: they who seek are sometimes
found ;they whoiwould guide the vengeance of
the great Monito, sometimes direct the shaft
into their own breasts.”
| “It is dangerous then, to—”

. “To seek the trail of Redpath, or to invoke
the thunders of his arm. He goes where lie
‘will, and strikes because she’ will ;his secret
will die wi'whim. He! will remain as he is,
and no one vill be able to boast and ‘say, ‘I

ave seen him,’ — Depart in peace; and be not
Curious, if you would live to eat the flesh of
a yonder
prairies. .Keep your tongue from speaking

_ more than you know, and your ears from hear-

ing too much.”
_ Rayenclaw spoke in a tone and manner that
ve the half-breed a feeling of uneasiness that
“he could not entirley»eonceal, and of which he
felt ashamed. a
‘You doubtless speak wisely, and in a way
honorable to your great nation. 1 hope you
wall aid me to strike a blow at our enemiés;
they are ascending the Nebraska, and will soon
be in:the mountains.”
“You have just said that: miy eyes and ears
are.open; they ate—you-havé ought me’ ‘no
news.” P f
The eountenance:of Beavertaker evinced
Surprise. f
J‘ My brother has been active, then; for it
wil} be at least a week before their trail will
pass this, way.” ‘ ;
* And what is a eck’s travel by those who

ride loaded horses and cieep along like snails ,
There are blackfeet braves that can journey
that distance in two days, and feel no weari-
ness. Our people never sleep soundly when an
enemy is near.”

“Ravenclaw is called brave, a successful
warrior, and a good counsellor. Will he be
angry if I ask where is the wigwam of the Red-
path »”

inThe stately Indian darted a stern and menace

g look at the half-breed.

“Son of the paléfacé-and-the red!” he re-
torted in tones of ‘authority mingled with an-
ger, “ you have too much curiosity to be a
warrior. What is Redpath to you? He is
naught. He is an eagle upon the mountains,
that stoops not from his lofty flight to, mate
with meaner birds. He makes a swoop and
fixes his talons with the speed of lightning ;
the next moment he is soaring to the sun, or
perched in his eyrie far, far up, the inaccessible
cliffs. If you knew his lodge, if you could
climb. to his high nest, your breath of life
would go out before anothermoon. Son of the
Frenchman and the Indian. woman, I ¢an lead
you.to the wigwam of Redpath. By the sow
of Monedo, Redpath will die. as he has lived,
and the eyes of the pale-face shall neyer look
upon his graye.”

“Be itso, my brother. Ispoke that might
be wiser.”

“Wiser! My. knowledge of Redpath is no
thing. I-know but his name and the: fame ox
his deeds, Be not like the young and foolish
who have no wisdom; but profit by the ex-
amples of mighty warriors and: conquering
chiefs. Go! you will'find her you deck with
a band of hunters enéamped yonder toward
the sunset. Go, and be, wary; yet see that

our heart is not hig toward the race we ab-

or.”

Lge Verses anon to, the reader. as Gar-
dette, at Westport—studied for a few seconds,
by the fitful fire-light, the ealm and lofty fed
tures of Ravenclaw; then, with a compelled
feeling of respect, took up his package. of
goods, placed it upon his horse, mounted, and
rode toward the spot indicated by the kaughty
Tndian. :

 
 

 

CHAPTER ¥V
WEW MISFORTUNES BEFALL BRION’S BAND.

It has been stated that Brion observed that
the youthful adventurer — who has twice
passed before the reader’s imagination—had
ee with some degree of interest at the

atchet that he found so singularly. Falling
again in the rear of his band, after Buckeye’s
departure, he examined the weapon more par-
ticularly. It was small, and finished with
scrupulous neatness, smooth as the surface of
a mirror. It seemed to have but one defect—
the handle did not appear sufficiently tight ;
and while noticing the fact, he discovered a
piece of paper between the same and the eye
into which it was fitted.’ With the point of his
knife he drew out the paper, and was astonish-
ed to find there was writing upon it, which he
hastened to read.

“© You are closely and perseveringly watched by those
who seek the ruin of your enterprise, and who will not
hesitate to employ the most exceptionable means to
insure their purpose. Be wary, if you would escape

dangers pressing and imminent, and plots the most
cunningly devised.” 2 >

“This is extraordinary,” exclaimed Brion,
when he had read the toregoing lines. “ I am
closely watched, and am exhorted to be wary.
Who wrote thése words of warning? I Wonka
give six months’ salary to know ; they. are
traced with a pencil, and by a practiced hand,
too. A plot! What does that mean? It re-
fers to a rival company, clearly, Let me see:
This was written a week ago, and I have been
so, stupid as not to discover it. Two deaths
have occurred since that time—one last night,
one the night oefore. But this is a strange way
of communicating intelligenee, and uncertain,
withal ; for, had I not discovered the hatchet,
it might have remained there, and the paper
with it, sovall this good-will would have been
lost. Who will say that the prairies have not
their bit of romance? But who comes? A
stranger, a white man, a hunter.”

The man who excited the last remark, urged
his horse to a gallop as he drew near; ina few
minutes he was by Brion’s side. The partisan,
while aifecting to regard his approach with in-
difference, vr as a common-place affair, was
really studying his features closely, trying to
vecall wken and under what circumstances ‘he

 

REDPATH, THE AVENGER; OR,

had met him before; for it seemed to him tha®
this was not their first. meeting. Having’ de-
seribed others of his calling, we have no in-
clination to inflict useless items of dress and
outfit, while his person and bearing presented
nothing very remarkable: »His face was not
easy to read; but might have passed very well
for an honest one, marked neither by: genius
nor uncommon tact. He saluted Brion famili-
arly, who returned his salutation with civility.
The latter's wish was to know whether the
new-comer was in the employ of @ rival con-
pany; it was a natural desire. He approached
the, subject with caution, and his meaning,

without declaring it directly, was quickly u™- | ;

derstood.

“My name,” said: the trapper, ‘is Dorelle,
and my business you can easily guess.”

“Yes,” said Brion.

“To relieve you from any suspicions that
you may feel, I will inform you that I am not
in the employ of any fur company, nor Mt.
tached to a brigade of trappers.”

“ A free-trapper ?”

“ Thank fortune, yes. - J-want my liberty. 1
should not feel like'a man if I were under an-
other’s, control.: Give me the mountains and
prairies, and lakes and rivers, with nothing but
my horse and my own will to guide me,'and I
am: happy... Human authority: galls’ me, or
rather would gall. me, were 1 to submit to it.
Oh! I never could be a slave after having
breathed the air.of freedom in a country reach-
ing from sea to sea, and provided by nature
with enough te supply the simple necessities of
man.”

“You discourse like one to the wilderness
born and bred,” saidthe partisan.

“That is true. Iwas born on the border,
and have been a rover since a boy. The ways
of civilized life in great cities, and busy towns,
do not please such as I. The noise of machin-
ery, the smoke of crowded habitations, and the
artificialities of modern usages, repel me, and
make me more in love with my manner of
life,” added Dorelle.

“Where have I heard that voice ?” queried
Brion. ‘Have you crossed any Indian trail ?”

he asked.
“Yes, of a large body.”
“ Of what nation ?”
“The most hostile and most dangerous—the
Blackfoot.”
Which way did the trail tend ?”

 

 
 

THE FAIR HUNTRESS

“Off in that direction to our left.”

“ Consequently, to avoid them—”

“You must keep close to the mountains on
the right.”

The partisan did not immediately reply ; ‘he
weiiectat ;

“That would seem like rushing into danger.
The Blackfeet are wont to lie in wait in yon-
der defiles at the base of the mountains,” he
remarked, at length, in a careless tone.

“T know it; but it would appear from the
direction of the trail, that they have changed
their tactics.”

“That is a very reasonable conclusion,”

uoth Brion. “To-morrow, I must think about
changing our course.”

“Tt would ve prudent; but a man of expe-
rience like you, needs no advice.”

“Here are my men,” said the partisan, as
they came up with the rear of that band.
“ Make yourself at home with them.”

, With these words he spurred forward, and
was soon in advance of the foremost of the
party, mounting every eminence, crossing
every brook, and examining the ground where
it was soft enough to yield to the pressure of
buman feet. ?

' While thus actively engaged in reconnoiter-

‘ing, his thoughts were not wholly engrossed

with his employment; they wandered back to
Westport, to linger about the spot where he
had seen Mignon. The clattering of horses’ feet
recalled his mind to the rough region of reality
where his corporeal substance was. .  —

“You see we have overtaken you, captain,”
paid a voice.

“Brion raised his eyes, and perceived several
of the more thoughtless young men of his
band, of whom Headley was the leading spirit.

“ This is imprudent,” éxelaimed Brion, very
sharply. “You had orders not to leaye the
main body.”

“And why is it imprudent?” asked Headley,

haughtily, for he liked not the tone'of com--

mand which the partisan assumed.

“Tt is imprudent, in the first place, because
you had my orders 'to remain with the brigade;
and in the next, for the reason that a party of
Blackfeet are lurking in the vicinity,” said the
mountaineer, firmly. - P

“Oh, is that all?” exclaimed Headley, with
@ derisive laugh, in° which his companions
joined: * } : a4

“ That’ is sufficient; I order you to’return
instantly,” rejoined Brion, with a dignified and
authoritative air.’ e

“Are we then under martial discipline ?”
asked Headley, angrily. : toe

“You are under my’ orders, and when’ T
abusé my power, there will be time enough to
rebel. It'is my duty to use my ee when
the general safety is concerned; therefore, go
back.”
Three of the refractory spirits’ reluctantly

OF THE SOUTH-WEST. «+ 2e

turnéd, and sulleniy rode toward the brigade,
which was about two miles in the rear, while
Headley and two others obstinately kept on,
disrégarding orders. 3B ‘

“Men, you wil regret’ this!” exclaimed
Brion, in a voice free from anger or harshness,
yet decided, and full’of. meaning. f

«We will see, we will see!” retorted Head-
ley, biting his nether lip with vexation. :

The partisan’s frank and manly face grew
cloudy.

«“Tiése' green hands,” he muttered to him-
self, “ will’ bring misfortune upon our ente¥
prise. And I am responsible for all that hap-
pens. I'was a fool to accept this post, but I
will be obeyed!”

The mountaineer continued: his inyestiga-
tions several hours, with all that tact and skill
experience had taught him. He was thus bu-
sied, when he was joined by Buckeye, whose

resencé, at that moment, was desirable, os

rion felt the need of a friend on whom he
could rely. ‘They rode on: side by side, the
latter relating’what had passed between him
and Headley.

“There he is, yonder, waiting for the band
to come up,” said Buckeye.

“ And a few yards before him is one of hig
foolhardy companions.” ;

The partisan and Buckeye soon reached the
spot where Headley was sitting.

‘Where areyour friends ?””

“Tf you have eyes, you will see one of thera,
yonder, seated on’ a rock,” he replied.

“ and the other?”

“Ts still farther ahead, on the other side of
the ridge.” % '

“Very well; you may consider yourself
dismissed from the employment of the Ameri-
ean Fur Company, Mr. Headley. From this
moment, you are at liberty to go where you
please.”

“What do| you say?” eried Headley, disa-
greeably astonished.

Brion made ‘no answer, and, riding on, re-

eated the same words to the next man, who
attempted to stammer forth excuses, which the
partisan did not wait to’ hear. When he
reached the top of the ridgé spoken of by
Headley, he looked’ for’ the third transgressor,
whose name was Stringer, but Stringer was not
visible.

Buckeye hurried forward, and descended the
slope at a gallop. Before’ ten minutes had -
elapsed, he called to Brion to come on as fast
as possible. Alarmed by the peculiar tones of
Buckeye’s voice, the mountameer struck the
spurs into ‘his horse and dashed: down the
ridge. He found the trapper leaning over the
pommel ‘of hissaddle, with pale cheeks and
dilated eyes.’ Upon the ground, at the fore-
feet of Flash, was stretched the unfortunate
'Stringer—he was lying on his’ back, the blooa
had receded frum his face, bis lips were white,

 

 
  

 

24

.

 

and he was gasping in. the last extremity,
Brion sprang from: his horse, but the man.was
dead before he reached him. ;

The mountaineers gazed at the corpse,.with
feelings of “indescribable (gwe. . There: was
something crushing in the thought that a man
who, 4 moment since, >was full of life and
youthful fire, was now but .a cled—powerless,
inert. { {

Oome in what form. he will, death takes. men
by surprise ; he arrives too soon — is always
grim and terrible. Let him come in sudden-
ness and mystery, when mortals, have no inti-
mation of his approach, taking one whose life
beems good for many. years, and he,is doubly
feared. F é j

Brion and Buckeye were still contemplating
the yet warm body, :when Headley.and. his
comrade came up they had heard the:trap-
per’s call to Brion, and «were suspicious that
something strange. had occurred... Drawing
near, with: downeast, anxious looks,! they. be-
held the spectacle that keptthe' tongues of the
Mountaineers mute. Headleywasiastounded,;
nis visage grew as pallid as the ashy features
of Stringer.
from his grasp, and, ‘with glassy. eyes. and
parted lips, stared at theistiffening body of him
who, @ few minutes afo, was. riding gaily at
his side. An inexplicable dread fastened upon
his heart—an indefinable trembling seized his
limbs. He seeméd-tosee an unknown,danger
approaching in cireles.that every, instant |less-
ened their diameter. «dn theoghastly face of
Stringer he fancied he saw ‘his,own fate. Like
‘him jheshould ibe strieken by anuknownjdart,
and like him be gazed at by eyes dilated by
iterror.; like him:be/buried-on the. prairies, and
Jeft.to eternal solitude. ‘at

‘Brion gave him alreproachful look —a look
which aceused him of being, an accessory to his
comrade’s death. ze

“Do you see this ?” gaid the partisan, when
the silence had become oppressive.

Headley made anaffirmative sign.

“ And:do,you remember that [warned you
-of the danger of leaving the party ?”” continued
the captain, with cold severity, *

The Missourian sat motionless in his, saddle.

“You elaim some knowledge of surgery.,.Do
‘you wish to examine this, body?” resumed

rion. i
Headley shook his head like one who wishes
: ito'say : “Ihave had enough of that,;, it, is ef
mo use.” ‘I j df bg

Buckeye was sifiting\calmly| upon, his. horse,;
che now darted:a meaning, glance at. Headley
efrom under his heavy brows. It,meeded no in-
terpreter; he, understood. its (signification per-
fectly. It asked him if, he was satisfied—if.he
-believed there were others who knew,as.mueh
as he did.,, we,

“Have you an explanation to offer?” added

partisan

He allowed the bridle reinito fall

 

U If 2 tna lsiog ad
_ “Remain just where you are, men, that no

 

REDPATH, THH AVENGER; OR,

“No,” replied Headley, “Thave nothing te
say.” ; ;
UNot so, with me,” said Buckeye, “ I-have
a few words to say, which may, perhaps, make
our wise friend from. Missouri-a trifle wiser—if
that’s possible. I’m pretty sartain that my
opinion on many pints isn’t worih a charge of
powder ; but what I know, I’m sure of. Now,
sir (looking at Headley, j, if you want to discover
whether Stringer died of a disease of the head
or heart, you shall be gratified.”

, Then addressing. Brion : ca

“T said I had a seeret totell you to-morrow;
but, seeeing what's happened, I won’t, keep. it
any longer, for there'll never be a better. time.”

'o Headley again: o

“Now, sir, examine Stringer’s head.”

The Missourian dismounted, and, resting one
knee on the ground, lifted Stringer’s head, an
holding it with the palm of, his left hand, seru
tinized it-elosely.. ' i

“T gee nothing,” he affirmed, Sad

“Part, the hair, just above his right ear, and
you, will find the head of a steel arrow driven
through the skull, into. the brain,”;said, Buck-
@

a It is so!” exclaimed Headley. a toe

“And yet there is no blood to indicate @
mortal wound,” said Brion. .%

“The; hair is saturated very little under-
neath, next the skin,” replied Mates 3,“ but.
the fact, that there is no hemorrhage is easily
accounted for. The arrow-head isnot muck
larger than a lady’s bodkin, and makes ‘but a
mere puncture in the skin ; being driven with
great force, it-penetrates deeply into the brain
causing instant paralysis of all. the vital fune-
tions,” ,. aa ' cia taal

That certainly seems to be, an arrow-head,”
said Headley’s, friend, “but where is. the
shaft?” a PA acct

“ Look onee more,” added Buckeye, °

Headley. passed the pointof a penknife. into

“ theosearcely perceptible wound,, feeling eare-

fully over the steel surface... a4, jo)»

‘It maybe so.contrived,”’ he, said, when ne
had. reflected a moment,, “that the shaft could
be.detached, after driving, the point to ita, fatal
destination.” ui ond ¢

“ Or broken off!” suggested Headley’s friena..

)if And thershaft — what becomes ,of that?”
queried Brion, looking at Buckeye. ... ‘

“ One thing’s sartain ; it isn’t to be seen:in
this.eage,-and .if was;so in ;the otber,,too ; 80
we can, form what, opinion; appears most nat’-
ral. I dare say the cunnin’ reptile, ag did this,
‘broke off. the shaft and, carried it away, as. an
act of bravado, as well as; to mystify, and;make
ithings,look unaceountable.” yy

“Twill see if he comes ,and,goes without a
trail,” said, Brion, throwing. the ,bridle-rein te

ckeye. :

new track may be made,” he added, commence

 

    
 

THE FAIR HUNTRESS OF THE.SOULH- WEST. 25.

mga, slese snvestigation of the ground, which
soptinued until the entire party came up. The
remost, hearing what had happened, commu+
ai¢ated it to those next to them, and the news
gn quickly from mouth to mouth, until.all were
mM possession of it. While those in the rear
were pressing-to the seene cf the catastrophe,
the partisan approached Buckeye, and said, in
a low toné: ‘
ntl wish you to wateh the stranger. who
imed_us to-day. Keep your eyes on him when
e looks at Stringer’s body, and, is hearing the
eireumatances that attended his death.’

The trapper, made, a.sign that he would do
80. Dorelle was ia no hurry, being the Jast to
approach the, corpse, When he beheld the
white and rigid .face, he shuddered and, drew,
back, as if the spectacle had been more.shock-
ing than he had anticipated. Buckeye observed
him closely whije the story of.the steel arrow.
was being tuld by those who had first reached
the spot. That, it. produced, in his mind feel-
ings of unfeigned astonishment, the trapper did
aot doubt-his demeanor attesting it in,every
aatural way. isac

There was now ample subjeet for conversa;
tion, among the trappers—young ana old con:
fessing the same interest, the same.awe. Stringer
Was buried as bis companions,had. been, the
mountaineers resuming their long | and wesny
march, with saddened hearts and clouded faces}
pondering darkly on the fate.of Stringer, ask-
ing whose turn would come next,,each mutu-
eran res “Tt may bemme.” sof |».

» Headley, on whom, the ineident of the day

had made a deep impression, rode up. to Brion,

the moment an opportunity, offered. when he
eould.address him alone. | 4. |
- Lowe -you an, apology, captain,” he said,
“for my folly, and I hope you will be disposed
to overlook what has passed... | acknowledge
that I merited reproach, and. the:,death ,of
Stringer. is. rebuke that will cause me sorrow
80 long asI.live,” "Ko ‘
ofS restore your to your, place, Mr, Headley,
and your friend, too, and will, attribute your
eonduet, to thoughtlessness, rather than, obsti-
hacy,)! replied the, partisan, with’ that frankness
that characterized him. i > i
Aleadley thanked him,,and hastened to.inform
bivsatestory companion of the, result of his
logy...) js 10998 Hine iliw
Brien ordered a halt in the afternoon, for
e opunpase -of hunting. the. buffalo, .having
led. but one since leaving Fort Laramie... A
w,of the most,skillful. hunters were sent, out,
e.remainder, of the ,band, being strictly, en.
joined to keep within certainypreeinets; amin;
ination thatthe leader bad no difficulty .in-en-
cing, such a dread of their mysterions. enemy
had fallen on them... he hunt not proying aue-

vessful, it was resolved to, continue, it during
the next day ; therefore their encampment was

TROL

*
made, to assume.a more permament appear-
ange... Being in.a dangerous neighborhood, a
corral, was built for, the horses, and various
precautionary measures, were. taken.

As the night drew on, Brion observed that
many of the men grew anxious, even some of
the veterans, so much had the fate of Stringer
affected them. Within the corral, which was
considerably large, a, smaller inclogure. wag
made, by placing the trunks. of cotton-woods
horizontally on \the ground, one upon the
other,-until they reached.as bigh as the breast
of a man of ordinary height. Behind that
phelter they hoped to. eseape.the skill of their
inexplicable adversary. We must, however,
except the partisan Bid Ducker’ fons the num-
ber who entértained the idea of passing the
night behind ‘such a shelter. They had other
thoughts, he

“Took,” ‘said he to Buckeye, “the sun is
sinking majestically upon the prairies ; it is not
easy to. dispel the illusion that it will not rest
on this‘mighty level; instead Of passing fo ano-
ther hemisphere, to illuminate other mortals—
to. shine on other ¢ities and peoples, mountains,
lakes, ‘and rivers.” : ,

“That was my, own thought,” replied the
other; “ but it would haye. been morally im-
possible. for:@, tough,old feller. like me to ex-
pases it.in such a. way; Human ereturs may

e, constituted «pretty, near alike, cap’n, as to
the real man, but,we hayn’t all the same fakilty
of expression. Now. that nat’rally reminds me
of death, when the sun of life seems to be goin
down. into the airth, so.to speak, to be burie
and. extinguished, foreyer.,,, To all appear:
ance, what.there is.of such.as you and I ceases
tobe; is pus into theground to be compounded
ag’in with the eternal elements, to play its part
in other forms; till time shall be no longer.
But, gap’n, there may be suthin’ that rises like
the sun, like. it to, shine forever in another re;

ion.” ;
ne God knows how fervently I hope so!” ex--
claimed Brion.. “To beliewe that Stringer has
& consciousness, at this moment, like yours an
mine— as full, as perfect— would almost eon-
sole gne for his death; nay, it would quite !””

‘Poor Stringer!” sighed Buckeye,

“T don’t know whether to say poor Stringer,
or not "said, Brion, impressively, looking up
golemnly into the cloudless sky. “ By heave
he may. be better off at this instant than you. or
ay aeons wish, tha the arrow of Reds
path might enter my own, brain, and thus dia,
miss me from care and pain ”

Pa oes care! what pee and care should
one like you haye, eap'n? Perhaps you lost
your heart at Westport ?” rejoined Buckeye.

The, partisan bipshed — an agsertion that
may, Psrbapt APB r well nigh ineredible to
the reader; but it. has been proved, number;

less, times, that.the man who can fage.s bat

 
    

  
   
   
  
    
  
   
    
    
   
    
   
 
    

26

tery, or an Indian in'his war-paint, has th’
ability to blush ‘when ‘affairs of the heart are
discoursed of, and pointed ‘allusions made.

“If that be true, she who found it found noth-
ing worth keeping, I fear,” he answered.

“An honest one, sir, an honest one!” said
Buckeye. '

“You are getting along too fast, my friend:
[have not yet confessed to the charge you were
pleted to make.” 1) Of oon “

The trapper declared, that td love’ a” fair
maiden was not to transgress laws divine or
human. i , :

“The men aré gloomy!” said Brion, ab-
ruptly. 3 :

“Tis nat’ral, cap’n, after what’s happened.
They can’t help thinking, that at the end of
three months — if things go on in this, way —
there won’t be many.of them left. . Hach one
says, “I, too, may wake up some mornin’, and

nd a steel arrow in my head.” Now, sich an
idea as that, when it fairly gets possession of a
feller’s mind, can’t be considered very cheerin’,
accordin’ to my view of matters gin’rally,
though you may have different notions, bein’
better edieated.?

“By my faith!” exclaimed the partisan,
vou are atoitt right; the idea of being dogged
by a single enemy, and picked off one by oné
at his leisure; is not pleasant.’ So’ far‘as the
mere fact of dying is concerned, one could not
ehoose an easier death’; but people seldom
reach that’ period when they are willing to sub-
mit to even the éasiest’ death’ that can be con-
trived. The love of life is strong, and follows
oné alike through happinéss and misery. Conie,
now, good Buckeye, tell’ me if you aré your-
self ready to offer your head to the fatal skill
of Redpath ?” .

“By the beard of Joe Smith, no! ‘I prefer
to keep my Peach oot unbroken, and ina
eandition to be useful. You ‘forget that I have
airiend to provide for?” ; 'g

"4 A friend »” eh
- Yes, and a good one, too ; there he stands;
yonder, eating grass like Nebuchadnezzar.”

“Oh! you méan Flash!”

“ Yes, Flash—a creetur that has all the better
Seer ofthe human species, with a’ great

eal more speed.” : ft
. “He is certainly swift of foot,” said Brion,
with a smile. mee Lr
«The name of Redpath has often been tien-
tioned between you and T)’and you once did
Me the favor to ask my opinion consarnin’ him ;
now I want to put the same question to you,
for I've observed that you've been non-com-
mittal and on the fence, as ’tweré,’ respectin’

+ ” « j %

“]T will be ‘very frank, Buckeye, aid keep
nothing from you. Thatwe are followed by a
vengeful enemy, is indispitable; that this en-
emy is cunning beyond any I ever encounteréd,
also freely admit ; but if it be the famed Black-

REDPATH, THE AVENGER; OR,
.

foot chief ealled Redpath, I haveno means whut.
ever of knowing! ' Familiar as’ the name/of
Redpath is to me, I will avow'to you thats
have, from the first, been inclined to’ consider
him but' the creation of some wonder-loving
brain.”

“You feel positively sartin thatithree of your
party have been killed,” said Buckeye, sarcas-
tically, rather, for him. i

The partisan answered in the affirmative, but
added that they might have been killed, not by
one savage, but possibly by three.

“That isn’t altogether probable; @ party of
three would have more diffikilty im concealing
their trail ‘than one, as ‘you'll understand at
once, when you come to think of it. “ Agin;
this sort ot thing is doue by one who has served
along apprenticeship at it, 80 to speak : othes-
wise he couldn't have acquired that awful sar-
tinty that charaktarizes him: Depend on't, it’s
doné by a riptilé as has follered it for months,
perhaps for yéars, growin” more and’ mare
acute, einnin’, and terrible.”

“Your reasoning is just ; this marvellous act
of approaching an encampment, this wondrous
power of striking a victim with a precision
that is deadly, and retreating without leavin

trail or othersign than a dead body, is really’

startling, and well nigh staggers belief; but

am resolved to solve the apparently inexplicas

ble mystery.” |

“Beware!” exclaimed the trapper, “ beware
what you do!”

“ What! does a brave man as I have consid-

ered you to be, hold # single savage—armed, as -

it would séém, witha bow and arrow, in such
dread ?’” said the partisan. :

“Tell me who and where my enemy is, and
I am not afraid to meet him’ but it is embar-
rassin’, to say ‘the least, to seek‘a riptile who
has the fakilty of makin’ hisself invissible, who
walks round ye without mukin’ any track, who
kills ye afore you know he’s near, who's off
afore you’ve gasped away the breath of ‘life,
Where'll you go to’ find hit 9° Will it be’ east
or west, north or south, this way or that? You
can’t tell, beéause you don’t know when you've
found him? What assurance have ye that he
won’t see you first ?”

“There are difficulties to té ‘considered, and
obstacles to surmount, but courage and a strong
will can accomplish what, at first thought, ap-
pears it possible,” returned Brion, firmly.
~ “Tf courage’ and a strong will can do to
thuch, cap’n, why don’t they keep the creetur
away from the camp-fires at night? Why don’t

courage and a strong willprevent him from

killin? your men?” ;

“Buckeye looked triumphantly at the partisan,

who listened with interest to the development

of the trapper’s feelings, which he was inter-
hally determined hé’should lay bare.

“ Until to-day, we have had but little warn-

ing of the presence of sucha foe. The singw

: :

 
—ew ery

‘
|
j
j }

 

THE FALR HUNTRESS

at absence of wounds in the two first cases
left some doubt on the mind in regard to the
eause of their death, and it is only a few hours
since the mystery was cleared up. I shall now
use every precaution to prevent the recurrence
of similar visitations that experience and pru-
dence can devise ; but itis a humiliating thought
that seventy men are forced to extraordinary
measures for protection against a single savage
arm; it shames me, Buckeye, and makes me
doubt that I have passed ten years in the
mountains, where dangers are thick, and skill
is indispensable. If I do not put a stop to this,
the name of Ben Brion will cease to be quoted
as a brave and sagacious man, fit to command
in the most trying emergencies.”

“ Don’t lay it 80 much to heart, for you ain’t
without witnesses that you’ve been prudent as
@ human bein’ could be, under the circumstan-
ees. Human foresight can’t foresee every-

“Tf matters progress ae they. have begun,

-what I can make of him.

OF THE SOUTH-WEST. a

my witnesses will be dumb ones,” said Brion,
with a smile.

“ And deaf, too,” quoth Buckeye.

“T think I may trust yeu!” resumed the
partisan.

“You can’t tell till you try me,” returned
the trapper, a.

“T wish to tell you—move this way a little,
the very person I was going to apek of is
watching us—that Iam suspicious of the good
faith of this stranger, Dorelle. If you were te
ask my reasons, I am very sure I should not
be able to give them. I shall watch him.”

“Tl take him in hand, too, cap’n, and see
If I discover mis-
chief in him, he’d better be among the Black-
feet or the Apaches,” said Buckeye, deter-
minedly.

“He is to be depended on, if ever man was
trustworthy,” said Brion to himself, as he
walked, about the encamptment to see if all
had been done according to his ordere—the re
mark referred to the trapper.
 
  
  
  
  
   
 
 
  
  
  
    
    

 

CHAPTER VI. ~
@OLD-HUNTING: 15 TALKED OF.

Evening came. The hunters and trappers
grére gathered about the camp-fires'in groups,
ooking their supper, discussing thevall-engross-
ing subject of the day. Each in-turn gave-his
opinion, hazarded atonjetture, or recited some
startling tale of Indianweunuing and cruelty.
The young men of the band had less tosay than
usual ; their ardor was cooled ; they fervently
wished themselves within the pale of civiliza-
tion again, no longer finding fault at the lack
of ing\dent that attended their march. The
faces of Stringer, Minten, and Townsend were
eonstantly before them, reviving and keeping
vivid the ee of their death, the awful sud-
denness of their departure.

“It would appear,” said Headley, “ that we
are destined to fall by the wayside, one at a
time. We shall mark each day’s journey by a
grave.”

“ That is true,” responded a young man by
the name of Conroy, who but two days before
had complained of the monotony of their jour-
ney, and its paucity of adventure.

“J wonder,” resumed Headley, as if talking
to himself, “if we were hired for the purpose
of being shot in the head with a steel arrow ?”

The query, though addressed to no one in
particular, caught like a train of powder, just
as it was intended. The short but expressive
monosyllable “No,” made the cireuit of the
group in an instant.

«That is my own opinion,” added Headley.
“«T have from the firstentertained the idea that
our services were engaged to trap and hunt ?””

“In course,” said Conroy, sullenly.

“But it’s too late now, I suppose, to save
ourselves. Seeing we must all succumb to the
foul fiend that dogs us,sooner or later, I expect
we must make the best of it. It would be well,
however, to suggest to the captain to dig a
arare every night, so that our march won’t be

elayed in the morning. We could then look
in each other's faces and seem to realize that
one of us is actually trembling on the boundary
of the other world”

“ @ed save me from such a realization for

t

REDPATH, THE AVENGER; Oh,

many. year!” -exclaimey Conroy, glancing
around -uneasily. ;

‘ Oh, it is'an-oasy Geath,” added Headley,
adroitly, knowing well how to exeite the fears
of his comrades. ’ §

“Tf you covet such a fate, seek it ; but it fille
me with unspeakable dread!’ eried Conroy,
witha shudder:

‘+ Itis so.sudden, that-one has, no chance to
repent,’’ said Dorelle, who shad joined. the
group. €hé young trappers looked encoura-
gingly at their new ally. .

“T wish we could change our.xoute, so as to
leave this accursed trail!” protested Headley,
with increasing boldness.

“T had thought,’ added Dorelle, artfully,
“ that you were one of the partners, and not an
employe?”

“Oh, no, sir. I’m under the orders of Ben
Brion!” said Headley, with a sardonic laugh.

“Indeed! that is singular! Ive had my
suspicions that fur hunting was not the real ob-
ject of this expedition,” added Dorelle.

“ What other object could there be in view?”

interrogated Headley, snapping eagerly at the ©

bait Dorelle had thrown out.

“It isn’t expedient for a man to tell his
thoughts always; but the moment I saw you
this morning, teaid to myself, ‘this man has a
higher object than peltries ahead.’ ”

he attention of the Headley clique was fixed
inquiringly upon Dorelle.

“ Foudre! you are deceiving me; confess
now, that you have heard of the discovery of
gold in the mountains ?” '

The Missourian’s eyes flashed with expecta-
tion.

“ Speak low, Monsieur Dorelle, speak low,”
he exch imed, earnestly.

“T knew I was right,” asserted Dorelle, af-
fecting to be elated at his far-sightedness.

“You are wrong, sir; we have heard noth-
ing of the discovery to which you refer; but
you see here a score of good fellows, ready for
any enterprise that promises well, and will take
them out of this infernal region !” y

“Not so fast, my friend! If you have not
heard of the new gold regions, it is best that I
remain silent. Ma fois! why should I dazzle
you with the tales of a region surpassing in
richness all the wealth of the oriental kings ; it
would fill your dreams with extravagant incon-
gruities, and destroy your peace when waking.”

“ You excite my curiosity to the highest de-

°

 

 

aon mem .ioom tah Boo 6S
 

THE FAIR HUNTRESS OF THE SOUTH-WEST

gree, Monsieur Dorelle. Tell me of this land
of yellow dust, Is it a thing known to ali, or
is it_a secret faithfully kept by a few ?”

“It is known only to a-certain number of
Freneli voyageurs and hunters, who keep it te-
naciously. It was only by accident that I got
possession of it.” ?

Headley rubbed his forehead, and fidgeted
about nervously. .

_ Will Dee nae me to ask if you have any
intention of turning this important affair to

| your own advantage ?” he inquired.

“ Self-interest, I believe, is uppermost fa the
brea mind, with very few exceptions. Like

hers, I am striving for a living, working dili-
gently with my head and hands to accomplish
my Sate Would it not be natural that I
should think much of what I have been telling
you? You willsay yes, like a reasonable man,
and be right, too; for I have thought of this
subject, day and night, for weeks. There are
difficulties to conquer, obstacles to surmount,
dangers to meet ; but men of courage, determi-
nation and perseverance can overcome all.

_ What is there that man cannot do when the

motive is powerful and the will strong* These
mnines are situated ina dangerous neighbey aocd,
farther from us than the ground already travel-
ed; in a different direction from our present
route, through the countries of savage nations
—the Utahs, the Navajoes, the Pimos, the Ma-

 Fieopos, and lastly, the famous Apaches.”
, Acloud of disappointment passed over Head-

dey’s face—the distance and danger startled

_ him, arid depressed his hopes.

,,,‘‘ You are speaking of that region lying be-
tween New Mexico and the Great Basin—the
fountry of an extinct nation—the Aztec?” he
added.

_ “Yes, the land of the ancient Aztec, traces
of whose art and industry yet remain.”

*‘ Have you ever been there, Monsietr Do-
velle?” :

. *T haye passed months there; traversed its
yalleys and mountains, seen its rivers, gazed
with awe upon the Casa Montezuma.”

“Timagined that was a fabulous fabric, ex-
isting in the minds of eredulous people.”

“Ah, my friend, you see before you a man
who ha» actually seen the Casa Montezuma—a
mighty, but still grand ruin, where the great
éking, whose name ia yet spoken with reverence

‘by the native, onee dwelt in barbaric splendor.
The sight of that crumbling edifice, which
seems to connset the past with ‘the present,

Z produced emotions which I cannot deseribé’ Tt

ought to my vision the phantom past, ‘ven-

arable yet grim; grey, yet gloomy ; silent, ‘yet

.speaking a language rot to be misiaterpreted,

jtelling of enjoyments gone,’glory departed,

ok

,power decayed.” :

_ . Dorelle spoke with apparent ¥ithesiasm, and -

Ray Bey the central point of’ attraction to the
‘wondering group. ‘The mém gathe*éd round

20

him as if he were anoracle unlocking the past
as well as laying open the future. One who
has the fae-x'ty of making others believe that’
he has heard more, seen more, and knows
more than his auditors, will always stand, in
their estimation, like Saul among the pro-
phets. Thus it was with Monsieur Darelle;
he was the hero of the hour, the marvel of the
inexperienced and sanguine, who sat that night
at the camp-fire of the partisan. ,

“ A vast region of ruins and hidden wealth
is that country,” added Dorelle. |“ The trea-
sures of an extinct race are concealed ingen-
iously beneath walls now crumbling, and
buried in earth, now overgrown with rank
weeds, with the mezquit, the parasitic vine,
the wild sage, and the dwarf pine. Foudre ! it
sets my blood in a hot fever to think of it. A
few hardy, adventurous men, a little faith, with
boldness and perseveranée, would sufficé to ac-
quire those riches. I have sought such’per-
sons; but, upon my honor, messieurs, I can+
not find them—or rather; I eannot make theni
have confidence in the treasuves of that coun-
try.”

“You shall soon cease to complain, Monsieur
Dorelle!’*eried Headley, looking at his friends.
“\ {ere are those who have not only faith, but
resolution. Discontented with their present ~
circumstances, they wait but an opportunity to
change their course and their’prospects!* Pell
me, sir, can the dangers you refer to be greater
than that strange fatality that now follows in
our trail like the Angel of Death, transfixing one
and another with his dart ?” raga

A'yisible tremor shook Dorelle’s person.

“Not half'so fearful,” ‘he replied, in‘a voiee
sunken almost to-a whisper. “I can conceive
of nothing more diaboliéal than thée'systematie
Killing of this savage or devil, or whatever! he
may chance to be. —s naturally superstid
tious, I acknowledge that I have much difficul-
ty in persuading myself that thisypathless,
trackléss power is human. Ah,messieurs, they
may call him Redpath, if they will, but tome
he is'a demon.” :

“That's what I say!” exclaimed Conroy,
striking his right knee violently with the cor
responding hand, to give proper energy to hii
words. LO j

« And I, also,” said’ Loretto, a’ Mexican, and
Violette, a Creole, and halfa dozen *others.1

“Téa is gratifying !” exclaimed Dorelle. 0%]
expécted to become an object of ridieuleamong ¢
you, after making ‘such an avowai s’ but Tam
agreeably disappointed! lama Catholic, mes.
sieurs, @ staunch believer im the devil, and that
the devil sometimes. assists’ his instruments in
the flesh.” a

“No doubt of it!” muttered Loretto; erose-
ing himself. wx 7

‘“« My lads,” said Headley, “what say you te
turning our footsteps ‘toward Gila River. in
pearch ‘of treasure ?” qioitae of corada

 
  

 

 

30

“I care not whither we go, providing we but
change our course,” responded Conroy, and
several others. ©

_** Will you lead us there, if we can enlist
enough in our interest to make the expedition
promising?’ asked the Missourian, again
turning to Dorelle.

‘* Gladly !” he answered, emphatically.

«Who will go? who will go?” cried Head-
ley, with enthusiastic eagerness. _‘‘ Come, let
those who will go, speak—and speak in
earnest!”

Ten persons, comprising all inthe group, in-
stantly signified their willingness to follow
Dorelle, and desert Brion. |

«« Warn them to be cautious, and not let their
intentions be known,” whispered Dorelle to the
Missourian, who immediately gave instructions
to that effect, which they promised to observe.

‘One thing we have overlooked; we need
an outfit to undertake such a long and trying’
-expédition ; all these: things around us, we
must bear in mind, belong to the American
Fur Company, and not to us.”

“‘T can assist you somewhat in regard to
that,” said Dorelle. ‘+I have a cache, fortu-
nately, provided for this very object.”

“If we were not where we are, I should ery
‘three cheers for ,Monsieur Dorelle,’” said
Headley, joyfully. <‘Now, my friends, for-
tune and adventure are before us,” he added,
with an enthusiasm he did not attempt to

disguise, and which his companions shared.

Buckeye, during this conversation, was sleep-
ing (or seemed to be) on'a pile of packs and
saddles, a few yards distant; his proximity
was either not known ornot cared for. Flash
approached his master, and smelled round
him, as if to assure himself that he was there,
and his footsteps had the effect to arouse him,
He arose to his elbow, rubbed his eyes, then
spoke to\his horse, and finally walked to
another part of the encampment.

Brien, meanwhile, left the corral, haying
given such directions as he deemed necessary
for the safety of all. The fatality attendin
his march weighed heavily upon his ike
As captain, or partisan, he was responsible
for the safe conduct of the party to the trap-
ping grounds. ‘There were accidents and
contingencies against which he could not
guard ; but how should he make it appear
thus to his employers? Would not his leader-

« ship be! faulted by those whose pay he re-
ceived? | Would they not call his courage and
perspicacity in question, when it was known
that their enterprise was in danger of total
failure through the agency of asingle savage,
armed as it would seemwith a bow and arrow ?
The partisan was ready to pluck out his hair
with vexation. As he had stated to,Buckeye,
he was mortified and humiliated beyond
measure. It made his cheeks redden with
shame to anticipate, even, being thought weak

REDPATH, THE AVENGER; OR, .

and pusillanimous. He believed it would
surely be said that he was wanting in energy,
promptness and foresight. What a thing to be
said of Ben Brion--a man who had been on
the trail ever since he left school, a mere boy!
He paced slowly about the encampment,
far enough from it not to be seen.
“Perchance,” he said, to himself, ‘my own
brain may be pierced by the shaft of this se-
cret foe Be it thus ; I alone will expose my-
self to his aim this night. If he has the temer-
ity to approach one whose eyes are quick to
trace a trail, and whose ears are educated to
hear an enemy, let him look to it; he may,
perhaps, regret his boldness! Ah! Iam for-
getting his fatal skill—his deadly cunning!”
The partisan sighed,and thought of Mignon.
«Tt might have been—it might have been!”
he added, in a low tone, that savored much’ of
sadness. Whatit was that ‘‘might have been ”
he did not say, but instantly shaking off his
dreaminess, began to act the keen and watch-
ful scout, a thing which a sojourn of over ten
years in the mountains had rendered easy,
and which, hitherto, had been attended with
a kind of pleasure ; but this was before he
met Mignon, and lost his heart—since which
event he had experienced less happiness in
the practice of his wandering trade. Mignon
followed him everywhere ; Mignon was tire-
less in pursuing him ; Mignon was with him
in his dreams; she wasa fair, but ever.
present spirit, that could not be laid. —

The realization of all this revealed the
mountaineer to himself in a new light. He
had not supposed it possible that he could
be captivated by a pretty face, and so enslaved
bythe charming conqueror ; it wasa new
revelation, a hitherto unread page in his own
character. He believed his passion hopeless ;
and not only hopeless, but foolish extremely,
He did not expect to see her again, and it was
madness to cherish her resemblance so fondly.

Although reflections like these went teem-
ing snroteh Brion’s brain,it did not divert him
from his duty ; he kept his dangerous vigils
with firmness and skill, exposing himself thus,
voluntarily, to be faithful to his trust, and save
those under his direction. Men are apt to
think soberly and rationally in the silence and.
quietude of night, and it was thus with the

artisan. He asked what or who it was that
y feared ; or, more properly, that threatened
the destruction of his trappers and hunters.
He had heard the name of Redpath spoken oft-
en in the mountains, when encamped by lonely
streams and distant solitudes ; sturdy veterans
had recounted his deeds, while friendlyIndians

_told of his cunning—attributing his success to

the interposition of Machinito, the bad spirit ;
but how much of this did he credit? Whathad
happened under his own observation to prove
that these tales were not without foundation ;
that there was really truth in what mountain-

 

 

 
THE FAIR) HUNTRESS) OF LAE SOUTH. WEST. 81,

rumor had been telling so long in the defiles
and passes? Brion considered» the. subject
from various points, concluding: this ordeal of
self-examination by confessing a belief in Red+
path. It was midnight when: he reached that
ultimatum. The stillness of the night had re+
mained unbroken, save by the bark of the prai+
rie dog, or the howl of the wolf—those ¢on-
stant attendants of the mountaineer: in) his
lengthened pilgrimages across a mighty ecoun-
try ; where, in the revelations of years, human
cities are to rise, and the genius of eivilization
is to walk with foot untiting.: 1

The partisan stood with his head thrown for-
ward, all his senses awake to detect theislight-
est sound. An owl emitted ‘its ominous ery,
which echo caught and prolonged in a series of
mournful wailings, which died »away! in’the
valley and far-off passes. ¢

“Ah!” exclaimed Brion, without: ehaiging
his position.

e waited for something—apparently the re-
oo of the ery—but it came not... He cast
is eyes toward the encampment; the moon-
beams were lying tranquilly upon it ; the stars
‘twinkled overhead serenely, as if bidding’ the
weary to forget care and sleep.

Brion’s attention was yet fixed e~ the en-
eampment, when he saw a man leavingthe cor-
ral. Had he walked out boldly and carelessly,

_ the partisan’s suspicions would not have been
aroused ; but he stole out as.a thief might leave
the scene of his depredations.

“Honest men do not move in that way,”
muttered Brion. :

At that moment the owl hootedagain—more
loud and shrilly than before. “Clear of the cor-
ral, the man advanced cautiously toward’ the
spot where the mountaineer was standing } the
latter instantly changed his position, screening
‘himself behind the trunk of a'cypress. » It was

‘Dorelle who approached, as Brion very soon
discovered.

“Yes, Monsieur’Dorelle, you are’ the one I
intended to watch,” thought the hunter, as the
Frenchman passed his hiding-place. Brion fol-
lowed him toward the Wind River range, from
the margin of the prairie upon which his camp
had been pitched, into a tract of country cut u
‘by gulleys, brokew by sharp hills, covered wi
pinon, stunted oaks, and aspen.

Dorelle stopped and remained motionless for
several minutes. Presently the owl hooted :

Dorelle barked like a prairie dog, and went on.

‘The cry of the owl came from a canon, not far
beyond: it was toward the canon that Dorelle
’ hastened.

“Now,” mused Brion, “ we will learn what
this be rerio | is for.”
The ground between them and the canon

was soon traversed. Dorelle barked again, and
the owl hooted but a few paces from him.

“Ts it you, Gardette ?” asked Dorelle.

“Tis I, Monsieur Mariet.” replied Gardette,

or Beavertaker; as;we shall prefer to call him,
in ‘honor,of. his Indian relatives. ‘

* Ah!” exclaimed Brion, again—an innocent
exclamation; that he was in the habit of using
when surprised; for the partisan never em-
ployed oaths, even when excited.

Mariot and Beavertaker adyanced and met.

“J haye many things to inquire about,” said
the former. _“ How do you succeed with the
Blackfeet?”

“ At, first I was looked, upon with distrust,
but my wife at length restored confidence ; so
you see itis a good thing to have an Indian
wife, though one be but half an Indian.”

“Well?” said Mariot, impatiently.

‘A party, of one hundred young warriors
are already on the alert, and it will be strange
indeed if—”

The remainder of the sentence was spoken in
a tone so low that Brion could not hear it. He
crept nearer.

‘‘ Be sure that you make no mistake, for my

own party are encamped in a valley not far be-

low us.”

““Diable, that is bad, for all is fish that
comes to their net—the Blackfeet. I mean. If
they should strike their trail, 1 could not re-
strain them. I have seen Ravenclaw, a chief
of great consequence ; but. he dislikes me, and
is, too.proud to be advised or Jed by one with
white blood in his veins. I spoke of Redpath ;
but:my curiosity provoked him.. He frowned
and looked..dangerous, and in a terrible voiee
told, me to;,begone, and put a bridle on my
tongne; since.that, I have not dared to speak

the name of Redpath.”

‘Nor is there need; he is already upon the
trail,,doing fearful. work. Three have been
stricken, and more will follow. Discontent is
in. the.camp—the expedition will fail.”

‘“Ah!” said Brion, ‘

Did, you, hear anything?” asked Beaver-

taker.

Mariot said no.

$ sistle Can this be true, Monsieur Ma-
riot?”
“Can what be. true ?”

“That Redpath.is on the trail of Brion’s
brigade.”
igfMon Dieu, it is a fact! He kills witha
steel,arrow, which pierces the brain. It is ter-
rible, but. does my,work ; it eripples the power
of that accursed company thatthreatens to rnin
the house of Bellmar and Mariot.”

“You run some risk yourself,” said Beayer-
taker,
. “I know. it! therefore my stay with the
band will be short. I have already sprung my
mine on the discontented ones. I have worked

on their fears and their cupidity. I shall take

away at least a dozen of his men, whieh will be
a severe blow. Meantime, have your warriors
concealed in the canon which you named when
Isaw you before, and—”

 

ae

PRET ssneener——aeseiy

s

A
eas
Boras

——

 
     
 

2 “REDPATH THE AVENGER } OR,

Poe “J understand,” said the half-breed. °° - ° had communication with Captain,Brion s. band,
‘ . “They have some good horses—a faét'which and on severaloceasions has manifested a de-
it would be well to Jet your red devils know.” sire to visit the camp of our rivals; but he
“They shall be stolen,” replied Béwvertaker. has been so closely watched, that, save in the
“They may, perchance, cache Bore of ‘theit instance Ihave named, I do not think he, ‘has

goods ?” ; been able to do much mischief, if such was'hie
oa. “We will open ‘the cache.” : intention.”
} : “They, possibly, may wish to fight?” Brion did-notsay “ Ah!” but he thought.it
eh “ We will fight them, monsieur.’”’ which answered his purpose. ;

f “ Foudre! that is as it should be. Now I ‘An informer-among your men may do ins
‘ must see my band of trappers and ‘Hiinters.” calculable injury,” said Mariot, earnestly.
; _ Did you come With them ?” ‘ oDhis is not all; Monsieur Mariot ; itis said
“No; with a company of United States ‘sol by ome in camp that'this youth is a woman.”
diers, who were sent to Fort Laramie, I found “ swablel”, exclaimed Mariot..,
Kineaid, who bore me ¢ompany'till this morn- “Ah!” said Brion in a whisper.
’ ing—or, rather, fill yesterday mibrning, as itis ©‘ A woman?” added Pierre.
baie now past midnight — and by whose means I © “A woman!’ repeated,Callard.
have held communication with the captain of “ What the devil could send a woman among
my band. I ‘shall meet Kinéaid’ at the Red you?” asked Mariot, angrily. . ;.) |
Butles, wheré he is, at this momént, probably, “It:may have been love of adventure: it
awaiting me with two horses.” -?°* : may have been simply, love.” d
After further conversation, Pierre’ Marist left “A woman! dove! ;Callard, this is getting
the eanon,. followed ‘by Brion, who ‘felf’ too ‘romantic.” tty cide ;
much interest in his moyements to dismisshim - ‘0 Remember, that it is first to be known that
from further espionage. Kineaid was withthe ‘thé:youth isa woman, andthen whether sheia © |
horses at the specified place, and the worthy im love, before we can judge if things are grow- F
| pair ¥ode away together.’ Fortunatély forthe ing romantic.” 4
i partisan, the ground was’ of'such a Havure that “ By whatmameis:this youth ealled ?”
they could not, proceed very fist, so that Ne ~r “ Creviers”
kept in sight of them without ‘muély exertion. .7/ 4‘ What isshis deportment, generally 2”
They conversed but little, atid Brion’¢ould not » of Heds singularly meserved/-—‘holds himself
“hear what they said.” "They. fiddly ‘réitehed aloof from the’men, loves solitude, and his.sole
the’ valley ear which Beavertaker {found companion is a colored manjwho’ attends him.
Ravenclaw, as relatéd in’ andther “ehayter. ‘like’ hisishadow, treating him with very great
Entering it, the mottitaineér saw 'the fires’ of , deference.” scies Ses aed
an encampment. The ¢athp was larye;°ex- 10‘ Théseoléred man is his servant, and ap-

 
    
   
  
  
   
  
   
  
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
 
   
 
   
   
    
 
    
     
   
   

tending some rods'along the valley, hutbering, “peared ‘with lijm in the first.instance?’?. |, i
si he judged by a casual siirvey, one htindred'per- ons ‘t Yes” yi. nave ‘ .
notis, of even more.” Siont Duk cover) i What was his ostensible object in attaching
The horses and’ pack-nivlées ofthe patty »himself tooyour:party 2.0.15 y waste
were side-lined, and quietly feéding® ‘within e< w‘tTo join his father, he said, who has a trad-
eighty yards of ‘the’ Dandy ahd it was! there cing house.onithe Yellow Stone. . Fearful, that
that Mariot stopped, sending forth Kincaid he might be a spy in the service of the Ameri-
' te request, Captain Callard} the leader, to | ean Fur Company, Ihave kept aconstant watch
“vonié to’ him? “While “Piérré was waiting, »:dn-his movements.”
Brion placed him in a position to hear té°the -/o! dimhustseeythis Crevier; dome the favorite
_ best advantage, with the Iéust dager of dis- cask him:to come here...) |. : ,
“covery!” The’ rival ‘partisdd came, when the« 1. Crevier soon appeared, followed by a stout
Same matters were talked of that Had been) Africanta ios i jon Ak beds a
“diséhssed by the Half-breed. | “Those td pies /ivBriony recognized jhis youthful visitor,and
“Raving been duly cdtisidered; Callard ‘broached regretted monesthan ever; his funfriendly,,bus- .
another, whiel had thé merit of hovelty) an dsopicions at the tinecof their first meetings’ He |
‘interested Brion equally as much. oo 14) looked ‘upon: his \¢omely face,and-slender fig-
“ There is oni siretifnstandé ‘to whieh I nitst, :ure:withmew interest, doubting-mot but,a,wo- ;
“éall your attention)”: said’ Callards? “ A’ youth«man’s heart was beating beneath that masoalive .
joined us at Fort Leavenworth, whose conducts! garb) veri? vores ot Lay, zd

 

 

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"been sispi¢ious. ‘Once, éertainly, he hes i :
P Ringe ED ds Hie Baad jerfey ainet {tis
. ; ta oe *

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ottobre) Doi
‘
 

THE FAIR HUNTRESS OF THH SOUTH-WEST. 33

CHAPTER VIL

IMPORTANT DISCOVERLAS ARE MADE.

Pierre Mariot had d:emoupted, and was
standing with his right orm on the saddle, his
face partially concealed from the eyes of the
approaching youth by the horse’s head. Crevier
advanced hesitating] y, the negro pressing closer
to him ashe drew neer. The partisan was ner-
yously anxious to obtain a fair view of his fea-
tures—a fact ehoving an important change in
his feelings since the night Crevier sat by his
lonely fire

“Tt is, indeed, a woman,” he said, mentally.

Mariot wes no less anxious to see the youth,
_ and mark his bearing.

“ Well, tir,” said Pierre, abruptly, “I have

sent for ysu to ask a few question concerning
roe father’s trading house on the Yellow Stone
iver.”

Crevier recoiled at the sound of Mariot's
voice, and was much agitated. The negro

whispered to him, which in some degree re-
etored his self-possession.

The partisan noticed that Mariot evinced

surprise, which betrayed itself in his tones.
_ “Why do you wish to question me ?” asked
Crevier, with some trepidation.

_ “ For the object I have stated.”

“What if I refuse to answer them ?” Crevier
resumed.

“T shall be obliged to compel you, possi-
bly.” x

“Member dis chile am here!” said the
African to Crevier, looking menacingly at
Mariot.

“ Let that nigger be silent !”” added Mariot,
sternly.

“He has a right to speak, I think ; he is not
in your employ, and therefore not responsible
to you, but to myselfalone,” continued Crevier,
witb spirit.

“Dat am "zactly it!’ quoth Balaam, whose
name had the merit of being scriptural.

“Captain Callard, will you rap that nigger
over the head,” said Mariot.

Captain Callard manifested a disposition to

&p, Balaan over te head, but that nigger

donbled a very large fist and held it so Callard

could see it, which had the desired effect to re-
strain his enthusiasm. ‘
“Do you know, sir,’ Mariot continued, ad-
@ressing Orevier, “that I’m disposed to eon-

i

 

sider you a spy in the employ of the American
Fur Company?”

“You are at liberty to think so,” was the
quiet rejoinder.

“ Captain Callard, it will be necessary that
this young man be severely punished, as an
example to others.”

“ That is my opinion, Monsieur Mariot.”

The partisan was observing Mariot as well as
his position would allow, and plainly perceived
that he was endeavoring to terrify Crevier and
throw him off his guard; but if that was his
intention, he failed—the youth remained un-
daunted.

‘How are spies usually punished, eap
tain?” ‘

“ Oh, with death, monsieur, always.”

“That was my impression. What is thie
black man’s name ?”

“ Balaam,” said Callard.

“ Well, Balaam will have to suffer with his
master.” :

In answer to this consoling information, Bae
laam leoked at the moon, and winked assidu-
ously.

“Leave me a few moments with this young
man, captain, and take the nigger with you.”

“Come, Balaam,” said Callard.

“T stays with massa, allers,” replied Balaam,
firmly. ,

* But I wish you to go,” said Mariot.

“An’ I wish to stay where I is,” returned
Balaam, pertinaciously. /

The captain approached him with the inten
tion of laying bis right hand upon his shoulder
to lead him away ; but Balaam assumed such
a belligerent attitude, that he deemed it pru-
dent to forego his purpose, and walk off with-
out him.

“ This is all very strange,” said Mariot, when
the captain was out of hearing.

““What-do you refer to?” asked Orevier, in
a faltering voice.

“It is useless to wear the mask longer, Mad-
emoiselle Mignon.” “

“My secret is discovered, alas!” cried the
youth. :

“ Oh, it required but a glance to penetrate

our disguise. He that loves has sharp eyes,”

aviot rejoined, ‘with something of triumph in
his, manner.

“Let me entreat that you will not betra
me, Monsieur Mariot?” said Mignon, in supp’
eating tones. ;

“Ah, Mignon, had it been for my sake, 1
should be the happiest of men; but I dare not
flatter myself that such is the case !”’ said Pierre,
softly. 4 yd

« Bor his sakel” muttered ‘Brion;

Do not flatter yourself too much, mom
Sieur!” TY o : a
“Then you had another object in-view ?*
“Your vanity ie without parallel !"” %

saoeaecatminemerer erie
  

  
   
  
   
   
  
    
  
 

   
 
   
   
    
  
  
    
 
    
   
  
   
 
 
  
    
   
  
    
  

34

“ You persist in averring thatiyou have not
regretted—that is, that you have not changed
your mind in regard—”

“To your propesal !”

a Yes.” -

“T should bate myself if I had no nobler ob-
lect in view, Monsieur Pierre!”

“ And very properly,” #00, quoth Brion, to
himself, whose heart was beating violently.

“Diable! You are, the. same! T had
hoped—” j ;

“Phat I had repented. ?”

« Precisely.”

“ But you see I have not?”

“Do you know, Mademoiselle Bellmar, that
this frankness may injure you?”

« Explain’

“Do you not perceive that you are jn my
power?”

“ Oh, you are there!”

“Yes; I command here. I sued at West-

ort.” {

“J forgot for the instant that I was talking
to a villain,” replied Mignon, with dignity.

“ Excellent,” quoth the partisan.” “She has
him. there!’ :

“M gnon, reflect upon your situation. Ihave
power to protect you—to keep your secret, to
preserve you from ridicule.” :

“ Andif you were a gentleman, you would
do so unconditionally.”

“That your conduct has been bold and un-
-maidenly, I think you must own; with sueh a
_ precedent: before me, I may venture to be bold

and-unmanly. What have you to answer to
such logic?” f

“Unmaaly you are; butif by boldness you
mean physical courage, I should say you will
never be bold.” ...

“ Be sareastic, if you will; yet it seems 2a
me that we meet under circumstances in which

ou would do well to abate your»pride and
Rola humbler language. You are at present so
situated, as to be under my authority.”
. 1‘ L.do not acknowledge your authority, Ydu
eannot, without an unwarrantable usurpation
of power, restram my actions or control my
movements.” , F

| * Your personal comfort shall be attended to
as far as my means will allow, and you shall’ be
treated with respect by my men; but you must
know that you are not at liberty to leave the
party.”
| ‘Dare you thas presumeto take from memy

| freedom? By what tight, Monsieur Marios, d:

you thus assume authority over mo?”

“ By the right of might.”

“That is well answered; but hear my_pro-
test.. J will not submit to your tyranny. There
must be men of honor in your party, “I will
throw myself upon their generosity; they will
protect me.” j :

These men are in my pay.”

 

 

REDPATH, THE AVENGER; OR,

“ And my father’s, too ; you forget that you
are the junior partner.”

“I remember everything that I wish to re«
member, Mademoiselle Bellmar.”

“A rare faculty.”

“Tn the name of all that is wild and marvel,
lous, tell me your motive for unsexing youre
self and running such a quixotie career ?”

“That is a secret of my own keeping, for-
tunately.”

“Your motive must have been extraordina-
ry. Your father will lose his reason when he
hears of this?” = *

“God avert such ‘a calamity!” exclaimed
‘Mignon, with fervor. '

“You do well to invoke the name of God
after committing this fatal error. You should
have reflected and deported eee becomes
one of your sex and age, But this mountain
pilgrimage, I'll wager my reputation, is all for
love!”

“Don’t wager your reputation, Monsieur
Pierre—the stake is too great !”

‘You sustain your part bravely, I’ll admit ;
but be assured I'll probe yoursecret to the bot- _
tom. Ah; Mignon, the time will come when
you shall redden with shame at the sound of
my voiee, it shall 80 remind you of your folly.”

“Tt reminds me of everything absurd at this
moment.”

Balaam rubbed his handsand langhed. Ma-
riot bit his lip with vexation, and called Cal-
lard, who was waiting his pleasure at the néar-
est fire.

He came, and with him two persons—G@ren-
ier and Kincaid. : a
“Men,” said Mariot, “you are to watch this

youth, this Monsieur Crevier and his servant,
and see that they do not leave the party. I
have special reasons for wishing them to remain —
with us.” my

Caliard bowed and smiled.

“ Captain,” said Mignon, gently, “I hope we
shall i friends 2” R Bin F

“J—I trust so,” respended Callard, consid-
erably embarrassed. ¢

“ Here is my hand, captain,” she added, ex-
tending that little member, with charming
grace to the leader, who could not refuse the
tempting offer ; while Pierre beheld the de-
monstration with ill-concealed anger and jeal-
ousy.

and yet, mad—Mr, Orevier, I tnean—I ex-
_ I shall be obliged to restrict you to certain
imits; but my authority shall be mildly ex-
erted, believe me.”’

__“ Beware, captain,” said Pierre, with a fore.
ed smile. ‘You’re upon dangerous ground.”

Mariot had advanced a little, and now stood
two paces in frent of his horse, with the bridle
upon his arm. Callard, Kincaid, and Grenier
were at his right, at the distance of three or
four yards, while Mignon and Balaam were on

  

 
ety

 

 

THE FAIR HUNTRESS OF THR SOUTH-WEST. by

the left. Brion oecupied a position to see the
parties very well. Whet had just passed be-
tween the captain and Mignon did not eseape
his notice, but gave a painful sensation, which
was new to him. Possibly it was for Callard
that she had left a happy home’to tempt the
dangers and hardships of the mountain. Al-
though the idea was unpleasant for a moment,
he really envied the captain.

“Portunate man!” he murmured. “ Fortu-
nate man ; you have pressed that little hand!”

The partisan’s brow was clouded; sorrow
and indignation were contending within. At
one moment, his limbs seemed losing their
strength ; at another, he appeared to be suffo-
eating with some new malady that pressed his
heart from his chest to his throat. He bent
forward that not a word might'escape him, so
intensely interesting were the developments.
Mariot turned to Grenier, and said :

“I supposetyou are ready to render an ac-
count of what you have done?”

Grenier was about'to reply, when some ob-

ject whistled through the air. Grenier threw

up his arms, rolled his eyes wildly, and fell up-
on his face. There were simultaneous eries of
astonishment. ©The Jong, ‘smoothly-wrought
shaft. of an arrow protruded: from Grenier’s

Mariot proceeded from the spot in absolute
terror, as if expecting to feel the point of the
steel bolt in his own brain.

“ Mon Dieu!” he eried; with a shudder.

“ Pierre Mariot,’ exclaimed Mignon, pointing
at’ Grenier, *‘read your destiny; behold how
Heaven will punish your evil deeds!”

“ Doomed!” muttered Kincaid, despairingly,

‘dropping his chin upon his breast, while Cal-

lard, with more presence of mind, sprang into
the adjoining thicket, rifle in hand.

‘; Come back,” shouted Mariot ; but Callard
was already in the: bushes. It was fortunate
for Brion that the captain turned to the north-
ern instead of the western side, ‘for it was from
that quarter that the arrow had ‘apparently
‘been projected. After beating about in the
thicket: for a: few minutes, Callard returned,
naving seen no enemy.

“Look at your misguided instrument, and
ell me.if you are prepared.to go as suddenly ?”
3aid Mignon to Pierre, warningly.

‘‘ Instrument ?” repeated Mariot, with a

uickness that proved she had touched a sensi-
tive spot. ‘ You know too much, Mignon!”

“Now, would it not be singular, Monsieur

'Mariot, if you should meet the fateot the man

at far es she resumed, impressively.
ierre looked at the dead man; and breathed
heavily 5 an indefinable awe was tugging at his
heart—a phantom hand menaced him.
Callard attempted to draw the arrow from
Grenier’s head ; but it broke close to the skull,
the steel point remaining firmly embedded in

 

Migition and Balaam walkee foward the en
campment; Mariot followed im three minutes
—the camp was astir, hunters and trappers
running to the place where Grenier had failen.

The partisan hurried away from the locality,
much excited by what he had seen and heard.
Indeed, it was to him’a night of startling reve.
lations ; but being ofa strong, well: balanced

- mind, he regained his wonted calmness—to ap-

pearance—before he reached the encampment
his band.

Buckeye met him outside the corral, where
he had been impatiently awaiting him.

“ By the beard of Joe Smith !” he exclaimed,
“T’ve a nice bone for you to pick, and have
been waitin’ to throw it to you for more than
three hours.”

“Well, give ita toss—I will eatch it,” quoth
Brion.

“You'll growl over it, ll warrant.”

“T promise not to bite.”

“Well, here it is: there’s mutiny in the camp
—the trappin’ business is at a discount, and
gold huntin’ in the Aztee kentry is at # pre-
mium.”

“AL 1”

“Jes''so, eap’n, I re¢kon.”

“ Who is at the head of the new enterprise ?”

“ Headley, of course ; but that new feller,
the Frenchman, sprang the trap on ’em,”

“Why, Headley apologized for his conduct ?”

“ Perhaps he will agin ; comes kind of nat?-
ral to him, don’t it ?”

“TI, too, have made discoveries, Buckeye.”

“Open your pack.”

“Jf T possess any considerable tact'in read-
ing human character, you are an honest man.

‘May I reckon upon your friendship and asaist-

ance?”

“ By the beard of Joe Smith, yes! When I
forgit to treat you like a friend and brother,
may the arrow of Redpath pierce my brain!”

“You are sincere, and I will make you the
repository of important matters. It willbe
relief to share the secrets of the night with one
whom Iam sure will not betray me.”

The partisan then narrated the incidents al-
ready placed before the reader,reserving to hini-
self the privilege of representing Mignon in a
way as favorable to her as the ease would
sibly admit. Of his passion for her, he said no-
thing ; indeed, he was not willing to acknowl-
edge the existence of such a sentiment, even to
himself; and the pains he took to eonceal it,
served to awaken suspicions in the mind of the
trapper, and point to the truth. Bit

‘“A reg’lar conspiracy ; very curious consarn
—lucky thing that you watched Monsieur Ma-
riot. I eoneluded there was sumthin’ wicked
in him, while I lay listenin’ among the packs
and saddles to his grand talk about gold diskiv:
eries, and the castle of Montezuma, which i8'&
humbug. The villain has used a good deal of
nat’ra} cunnin’ in layin’ his plans, byt *he te

ae ee ea aA

peeieianiomemnnrerannirt

arene

ml
i
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36

bles may be turned on him, notwithstendin’.
The heathen reptile with the bow is,arter him,
and he’ll leave some of his men behind. him,
even as you have The divil takes gare of bis
own, it is said; it, it wasn’t,,so, we might ex-
ect to hear some day that, Monsieur. Mariot
Pad felt the sharp ip’int of the steel arrow.”’,

“He will return before morning, hoping his
absence has not been noticed,” said Biron, very
earnestly.

“ He will come back to conduct Headley and
his friends to the ‘Casa. Montezuma, and the
land of treasure . How shall you receive him,
eap’n ?”

‘““Thave not matured my plan, yet. Indeed,
Iam much disturbed and confused by the. ex-
traordinary things that have—providentially,
let me believe—fallen under my, observation. I
need time to reflect—to resolve on a course of
conduct that shall be the most, judicious, the
best for my employers, my men, and, lastly,
myself; for sell, friend Buekeye, in an affair
like this, ought to come last, and not be made
to ogcupy the first place in my thoughts. Dan-
ger encircles me like a belt; but men have

een in more precarious positions, and lived to
tell the story of their eseape ;thus may it be
with me. ‘There are some, veterans, in my
party that I can rely on; they will. not fail
me, I trust,in, an emergency. We can deal
with the Blackfeet warriors. A surprise would
be disastrous, extremely ; but that peril is now
comperatively small. To, know an enemy’s
order of, battle;is to. know bhow.to meet him.
With your aid, it will ‘be, difficult for a war
party of an hundred,to, approach, our camp
without discovery. I count, you a dozen ordi-
nary men; because you have much experience
in Indian policy, and know how to look through
the double sights.”

“That's a compliment I’m proud of, inso-

much as it wasn’t said by a common man, by
way of flattery. Cap’n, lam at your orders
from this minute; tell me todo this or that, to
reconnoitre, to follow trail, to..watch for an
enemy by night, to fight till the last.gasp, and
Pll do it without questions, , ‘It’s an offer Inne-
ver made afore; but by the beard of Joe Smith,
there’s sumthin’ in ye I like.” i

The partisan smiled pleasantly, and held out
his hand. Buckeye gave it a rough and hearty
grasp, thus sealing the friendly compact which
was to last.as long as the lives of the parties.
[tis now timethat we return'to Mignon, and
take a casual glance at; the: passage of events
somewhat.in their regular fc Mariot speed-

ily made Bellmar acquainted with the factithat |

mademoiselle had repudiated 'the long talkéd-
of allignee.. That. gentleman received the in-
formation. with more) dalmness than he! had. an-
Aieipated. He told Pierre tobe patient ; he
would see his danghter ; hé ‘trusted the matter
wou’ he satisfactorily arranged; there wasno

 

REDPATH, THE AVENGER ; Ok,

need of excitement; he had skill to manage if
properly. .Mariot was led to hope in the ulti-
mate surrender of the fair citadel ; we will learn
how he prospered.

Monsieur Bellmar at length broached the sub-
ject gently to Mignon, who demanded to know
why he was desirous of such.a union. . He re-
plied that he was anxious for such a consum-
mation for several reasons.

_ “Is Monsieur Mariot a man of honor?” she
asked.

Bellmar was confused. y

“As much so, perhaps, as the average of
mankind,” he answered.

‘“<Is he possessed of even common honesty ?”

‘“‘ What a strange question, Mignon,” he re-
turned, evasively.

“ Do you consult my happiness only, in this
alliance ?” she demanded.

“ What else should I consult?"

“ Interest—worldly interest, possibly.”

“Such a marriage would be advantagous in
@ pecuniary point of view, I admit.”

“Do you fear his anger in case of my refu-
sal?”

‘ Pierre, you remember, inherited his father’s
property, which was worth at his decease far
more than mine; Pierre wished to enlarge our
business, when he succeeded his father in the
house, and having considerable money, the
savings of my late partner, he made an invest:
ment of capital beyond my means; so that, in
truth, I am his debtor to a large amount, which
might. make it exceedingly awkward, should
he ‘wish for a dissolution of ‘the house of ‘Bell-
mar & Mariot.”. i

“Bat all your resources are not invested ;
during the many years of your labors, you
must have ‘amassed enough to insure you a
competence ?””

“T have laid by something for you, my
child, which you shall have.”

“Well, then, my father, let us be content.
Pierre is @ villain ; and I will not consent to be
united to.a bad man. Whenever you are clos- |
eted with him, you should pray :'* Lead menot
into temptation, but deliver me.from evil.’ ”

“One would think you had: been listening 2”

the exelaimed, with displeasure.

: And. correetly, too; for I happened to be
in the room adjoining the library, at the time

of your interview with:Pierre in regard to the

American Fur Company.”
“And jyou heard all ?”:eried Bellmar, ex-
cited. (
» All, my-father.ocAnd I heard also—what
you did not-—the development of his scheme.”
“The following day, with:three men?”
“Yes. Can you now say to me: ‘My daugh-
ter, I wish you to marry: Monsieur Mariot, for
he is a worthy man:’”
Bellman pressed! his hands. to. his forehead,
and made no answer.

Mignon related cireumstantially allithat had

 
{

}

 

}
|
|

THE FAIR HUNTRESS OF THE SOUTH-WEST. 87

transpired at thi interview between Mariot,
Grenier, Kincaid, and Gardette, to which her
auditor listened without once looking at her,
or changing his attitude.

“Ts all this villany to transpire without one
effort to prevent it?” Mignon asked, with in-
genuous warmth, when the narration was
completed.

“ What can be done? Mariot will act as he
pleases,” said Bellmar.

“What, will you suffer yourself to be com-

romised in character by the machinations of a
Bad man? Do you not see that his evil sechem-
ing must sooner or later become known? Too
many persons have his secrets in possession,
each of whom, would betray. him for a few dol-
lars. Are you then to connive at murder, my
dear father? Are you to be the accomplice of
@ssassins ?”

‘Mignon spoke earnestly, and Bellmar began
to be startled by her representations.

“Indeed, you move me, Mignon I had not
considered the subject in a light so serious.”

“Your hair, my father, is already silvery.

- Would you add crime to age, and die with the
dark mark of Cain upon your brow ? Act while
while there is time, I entreat of you!”

“Tam powerless, powerless!  Mariot ‘has
sent his emigsaries: they are far upon their
way. I cannot overtake them, ifI would; for
you know, Mignon, that the fire and energy of
ae has departed years ago. Iregret what he

“has done, extremely; his plans are both rash
and wicked : Mon Dieu, my child, I am trou-
bled.”

“Now you speak according to the dictates of

Mature and religion, and your voice is. pleasant.
Ah, if you listen to Pierre, you will leave me
but alegacy of infamy!”

“But what can J do, girl?”

“ Dissolve all, connection with Mariot, even
at a great, peeuniary sacrifice. Let him with-
draw his capital—suffer him to do his worst—
the law wili protect you; you will bea gainer
to rid yourself of him at any price.”

“T believe thatis the truth, Mignon. World,
ly interests may have blinded my eyes, but ao
you think I am a very bad man at heart, my
daughter?”

“Oh, no; at heart you are good; therefore,
you should not be unequally yoked with an
unbeliever in human virtue, a contemner of
honesty, a seoffer at religion, an apostate from
honor. . Say you will try to save Brion’s party
from destruction, and let the house of Bellmar
& Mariot fall? How your gray hairs would
look at the bar of justice! how your head
would droop with shame under the heavy pres-
sure of guilt!”

“Perhaps Mariot will relent.”

“But you have said it is already too late ;
he has sent hired assassins to dog the honest
partisan, to cut aff men engaged in a lawful
ealling.”

“Parbleu’ woman’s instincts are said to be
quick and true; come, what shall I do?”

“You will trust it to me ?”

“T will trust it to you.”

“And you will allow me money, and what-
ever you may wish.”

Mignon embraced her father, who went on to
say that businéss would compel him to go to
St. Louis, to be absent three weeks; buat he
trusted in her discretion, having no fears that
she would be guilty of follies.

“Your mind,” he continued, “is fertile in
expedients, while mine has lost the greater
part of its strength and vigor. I am willing, I
am more than willing —I am anxious that,
Pierre’s designs should be thwarted. But
Brion has gone ; where, I know not. We hoped .
our party would: be in advance of him, but his
activity has outdone us. If Brion is at Fort
Leavenworth, a faithful. messenger might be
sent to warn him to be on his guard—without
compromising myselfor Mariot. A few vague
hints judiciously thrown out would be. suffi-
cient, without cailing names, or indicating the
precise nature of the danger.”

“ Was not Captain Brion here a week ago ?”

“ Yes, he was after men; hut mosé of them

‘being already engaged by me, he left the same

day, and since that time, has passed through
all the frontier towns of any note, in search of
huuters and trappers. And this is why it is so
diffienlt to find him.”

“When will your band be ready to start?”

_“Tn ten days.”

“Numbering how many men?”

“One hundred.”

“ And commanded by—”

“Captain Callard.”

The foregoing conversation led to that extra.
ordinary resolution which resulted in the pil-
grimage of Mignon, in male attire, to the wes-
tern wilds. She hoped to find the partisan at
Fort Leavenworth, make such communication
as she might without directing suspicion tos
ward her father, and return without a protrae-
ted absence. She waited her father’s depar-
ture with impatience, that she might put her.
plan, into, execution, but he delayed it day after
day. Ten days elapsed before he set out for
St. Louis, and even then Caijard had. not se-
cured his complement of men.

Mignon abandoned the expeetation of findin
Brion at Fort Leavenworth, so much time h
passed since he left Westport—therefore deter.
wnined upon, that course of conduct which
finally introduced her to the reader on the
prairies.

Having once formed the project, she set
about preliminary operations with an earnest+
ness that conquered obstacles, and a foresight,
that would not have been disereditable to a;
veteran trapper. Her perspicacity owed much
of its acuteness, however, to observation, des,
rived from the associations which her father’s

Seeerennmemmemnemene angen aetna nanan eS See SSIES ESSSESEEN EE tetera serene het

Papen nanan enere

NNT

 
A aS pA ERP en

  

   
  
   
 
  
 
 
 
  
   
  

33

business naturaily threw around her. From
her earlicst recollections she had seembunters
and trappers, heard their tales of adventure ;
they were a class whose habits and, peculiari-
ties were most familiar, She, knew the nature
of the perils that attended them in their long
excursions, amid the rugged and snowy moun-
tains, what kind of an outfit they needed, their
mode of travelling and defence; and lastly,
how, when, and where they practiced ‘their
trade.

Balaam was a faithful servant, who had been
many years in the family. It was the particu-
lar wish of Madame Bellmar, at the time of
her decease (which was when Mignon was but
a child), that Balaam should always be consid.
ered a member of the household, and be treated

with kindness—which desire had been strietly
observed and respected. Balaam was not, as
the reader may be inclined to conjecture, feé-
ble aud in his dotave, but robust, and’a giant
in strength. At fifty years, with power undi-
mainished by hardship and abuse, he was at the
pest period of his manhood. .Mignow found in
im an able eoudjutor—after she had overeome
his scruples and sileaced his objections—for
Balaain had twice been to Bellmar’s trading
house in the country of the Nez Perces,

When her preparations were completed, she

roceeded to Fort Leavenworth, accompanied

¥ this faithful friend and servant. Brion had
departed.
The weseription of the slender youth, in the

Opeiiug chapter, préeetudes the necessity of de-
scribing Mignon’s appearanee when she joined
the trappers at Fort Leivenworth. ” Previous
to starting, she wrote an affectionate letter for
her father—who two days before had left for
St. Louis, placing it where he would be sure
to find it. The advent of Mignon among the
hunters was looked upon by Callard with sus-
picion; she goon perceived that’ ‘she was
watched ; and deprecated from her heart that
selfish interest that fills the ‘human soul with
distrust. ;

“ Balaam,” said Mignon, ‘is there not some-
thing you wish to say to me?”

“ Dar is, Massa Orevier,” replied Balaam.
~ “ Well, there is no one in hearing ; ‘proceed.”

“ Does ye see dat fire ober dar ?”

“ Yes, Balaam.” :

“ Whose fire dat is, ye spect ?”

Mignon answered that she could form no
supposition, whatever, |

alaam informed her that Captain Brion was

encamjied there for the night.

* Alone?” inquired Mignon.

Balaawn replied in the affirmative, explainin,
that‘his party were in advance, he having left
Fort Leavenworth but a few hours before Cal-
lard began his marel. :

“T tunst ‘speak to Captain Brion,” ‘added
Migihon. \ a

¥

REDPATH, THE AVENGER; On,

“ Dat am diffikilt,” quoth Balaam.

“Do you think we are watched?”

“Ebry minit,, Missy Mignon.”

“Hush! call me Master Crevier. J will put
this matter to the test. I will walk leisurely
from the camp, and you will remain here. It
I need you, I will discharge my rifle, the use of
which you have so well taught me. If lam
followed, you will be sure to observe the. cir-
cumstance.” ee
__ The fire to which Bulaain had eited Mignon’s
attention, was distant nearly half a mile, but
on aecount of an intervening valley did not
seem half so far. , .

She leit the encampment, advancing with
mingled emotions of timidity and heroism
How novel was her situation! What unfriend..
ly constructions her conduct might bear! But
she arose superior to weakness; she felt a
strength that surprised herself, and prayed that
thosé might be forgiven whose unhappy tem-
perament it is to think evil of others. She
would save her aged father from becoming par-
taker of another's sins—from sharing another’s
crime. That was just—that was praiseworthy
—that was right—and all the sophistry in the
world could not make right wrong. She grew
strong in moral power, a shield of protection
was over, above, around her. Her fears were
dikpelled by, the strength of virtue, and the
consciousness of truth. :

Mignon heard. steps, and looking arouiid, saw
Captain Callard following. her.
upon.a gentle eminence—the same where she

first appeared to the reader. It has beenshown,

how she reached the bivouae of Brion, meeting
with a reception from that-worthy man) which,
though eivil, was not cordial. .

Mignon’s calmnéss was severely shaken by-
the trapper’s coldness, which eaused her to re-
alize but too sensibly the peculiar awkwardnéss
of her pesition To conceal her feelings, she
assumed that thoughtful, abstracted air which
we noted in the proper place, such a mood
giving her a natural pretext for averting ‘her
face from the mountaineer. She had fluttered:
hgrself that she could meet Brion unshrinking-
ly, and warn him of the danger impending
without effort or hesitation; bat now she found
herself overwhelmed by innumerable seruples,
and a diflidence quite unaccountable.

She was observed, too; Callard was behind
a tree, not fifty yards distant ; he showed him-
self to Mignon, with his right: forefinger upon
his lips, and his left held up in menace ;: thie
eee signified that she should be silent.

he was cruelly embarrassed ; but a remarka-
ble power of self-control kept her outwardly
ealin. « She resolved not to be thwarted ; whew
she had sufficient command over her voice, she
said, without changing her meditative attitude
or expression : ;

“Captain Brion, there is danger near you; 1 |
have come to put-you "upon your g ; bud

 

=

She paused

  

 
‘ee YS CU Ye

 

ee

THE FAIR HUNTRESS OF THE SOUTH-WEST. 30

ii am watched; 1 man behind yonder tree is
almost near eneugh to hear my voice.”
Mignon waited for a response ; the moun-
taineer was already asleep, while Captain Cal-
lard was drawing nearer. She arose to go,
when, to her horror, she discovered a serpent
winding its unsightly body into a coil, three
aces from the partisan’s head. To seize a long
agot and dispatch the loathsome creature, was
the work of a moment only ; she marvelled at
her own promptitude and boldness as soon as
the deed was accomplished. Excited and
trembling, she hurried from the spot to meet
Balaam, who wasapproaching. Eluding Cal-
lard, she returned to. the encampment, glad
that her feeble hand had been the instrument
of Providence in the preservation of the trap-

i.

It was after this partial failure that Mignon
resolved on another experiment. As has been
anticipated, it: was through her agency that the
hatchet had been’ left where it would fall into
the hands of Brion; the dumb bearer of a eon-
cealed message. Baleam had been trusted with
that commission, and despite the espionage of
Callard, succeeded in discharging it successful-
ly by adroit management. Mignon had en-
joined on him to be careful that a portion of
the slip of “gy be left visible, that it might;
immediately seen by the finder—ea item

which he so far overlooked, that, as we have
seen, it was several days before it attracted the
partisan’s attention. To mystify the latter,
Balaam had adopted the expedient of breaking
the trail by grasping a mammoth vine that
hung pendant from a tree, and swinging him-
self forward across a small gully where the
ground was hard; this was why the trapper
was bafiled.

By a skillful manwuvre, Mignon evaded the
vigilance of Callard, after the two bands had
passed Fort Laramie, and joining the partisan,
conversed with him in the manner related, not

doubting but her’ warning had been read and _

understood; or, at least sufficiently eompre-
hended to make the captain so cautious as to
frustrate the designs of his enemies. She
wished on that occasion to speak to him free-
ly; but,,unfortunately, she confounded Buck-
eye with Gardette, the half-breed, who was
acting for Mariot; and hence her silence on
the subject ever uppermost in her thoughts,

While she was planning an expedient to rid
herself of his presence, Balaam appeared in the
distance, motioning her to return to the party,
inasmuch as her absence was exciting inquiry
—a series of signals previously agreed upon.
We are now ready to tell what happened te
Mignon after her unexpected intarview wite
Monsieur Mari

‘

I

= Pe

 
 

 

 

 
 
 
   
    
   
  
   
 
 
 
 
  
  
  
   
   

 

 

   
 
   
   

CHAPTER VIII.
MIGNON MEETS RAVENOLAW.

Mignon loved liberty. Nothing eould be
more repugnant to her feelings than the idea of
preotint restraint, especially when exercised
yy # man whose character she detested. To
remain with the band and be subject to the
authority of Pierre Mariot, was a contingent
entirely abhorrent to her notion of her own
rights and privileges. It was also at variance
with her instinctive delicacy to be brought
again into contact with those who already knew
or mistrusted her sex; who could neither un-
derstand her motives nor pity her confusion.
To avoid being so awkwardly and painfully
placed—an object, perchance, of rude ecom-
ment and ridicule —to evade Mariot’s vigilance
and escape his domination, became her ruling
desire. Inthe event of success, should she
throw herself upon the protection of Brion, or
attempt to return home across the wide prai-
ries, attended by Balaam only? The first was
not without objections, but it appeared most
safe and feasible. Mignon believed it would
be best to act upon her determination promptly,
while Mariot was stilllaboring under surprise,
before he had artfully deliberated, arranged his
plan of action, and systematized his espionage
over her conduct.

During her pilgrimage, Mignon had nightly
been A by @ small tent, which Balaam
had provided for that purpose, and which he
was expert in putting up and taking down.
The tent had two compartments, in the smaller
of which slept Balaam, like a faithful watch-
dog, ¢~er on the alert, ready to start up for her
defence at the first approach of danger. He

kindled and kept the fires also, when fires were .

needful, cooking with skill, preparing the choi-
eest cuts of venison for his adventurous young
mistress.

So it will henee be seen that Mignon passed
the time, when not on the march, quite by her-
self, apart from the motley mixture of men
eomposing Callard’s band. The services of
Balaam were many and important. His ad-
vice was always seasonable ; she trusted in his
sagacity, anticipating protection from his
strong arm in every emergency which might
secur. He was proud of her confidence, will-
ing to make any sacrifice that human creature

 

REDPATH, THE AVENGER; OR,

sould, to insure her safety and comfort. Ba.
laam was well armed, and hardly it would fare
with him who should have the temerity to in-
sult Mignon. He was not wholly indebted to
those deadly implements in vogue, for the
means of assult and vengeance, because Nature
had gifted him with hands of remarkable
strength, with which to erush an adversary,
and administer corporeal pain. Balaam was
of a patient, genial, disposition, but when a
quarrel was foreed upon him, and his feelings
were outraged, he was an anfagonist greatly to
be feared. Those so unfortunate as to fee) the
stunning power of his fist repented their rash-
neas, and eared not to provoke his ire again.

Balaam was consulted in reference to the
emergency that had arisen. She explained te
him her reasons for not wishing to remain with
the party, which, in his view, were sufficiently
cogent ; indeed, her mere will would haye been
considered imperative, without a single argu-
ment. She said to him:

“We can escape more readily to-night than
to-morrow, or any subsequent period.”

“Dat am a fack,” quoth Balaam.

“Come, my friend,” she continued, “how
shall it be done ?”

“T want to know just where yer gwine when
yer git away dat’s de question dat ’quires
splainin’.”

“Perhaps I shall throw myself upon the pro-
tection of Captain Brion.”

“The man you—”

“The man 1—what, Balaam ?” said Mignon,
sharply, coloring.

“ Nuffin of no consequence,” replied Balaam.
“Don’t ’sturb me; I’m thinkin’ how it ean be
done.”

“T'll wait patiently.”

The African remained silent for some five
minutes.

“We shall want our hosses,” he said, at
length.

Mignon assented.

“Well, dis chile must crawl out dar ’mongst
’em, cut de side-lines, and lead ’em off softly,
while you creep away in nuther direction.”

“ Yes, Balaam.”* .

“Den I jines ye wid de hosses, ober dar by
dem cotton-woods.”

“Suppose you should be discovered ?”

“ Dis cullod feller fight—git away. I’ll meet
ye dare, sure, ’twixt dis and mornin’—pervidia‘
you git dar.’

  

 

 
 

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THE FAIR HONTRESS OF TRE SOUT E-WHST. 41

) “That J can do, believe me. You see Iam
amall—I can move quietly. Look out, and ob-
‘serve what is going on.”

Balaam did as bidden, reporting that most of ; j
‘ moon was. waning, and the stars seemed to look

the party were gathered around the dead bod

of Grenier, but he eould hear voices, in Cal-: d y
‘were grim and cold, the snows om their sum-

lard’s tent.

“ The fate of that, man was sudden and aw-
ful; but I amagined I saw in his death the
hand of retributive justice,” said Mignon.

“ Redpatl am about,” said the black, in an
under tone.

* Yes, it would really seem that there is such
@ personage; he was spoken of by that very
man as a fitting terror to unloose upon Captain
Brion’s party, but his evil thought has reacted
on him; yonder he lies lifeless, translated in a
moment from this world to the other, with his
sins upon him—with his many unrepented sins
weighing darkiy upon him.”

Mignon paused, arrested possibly by the
thought that thesame peril attended her, wher-
ever she might wander in the mountains.

“Did you remark, Balaam, that the half-

breed was much affected by fear? I recognized

him immediately, as one of the three men in
the service of Mariot—one of the trio from
whose rudeness I wassaved by the brave moun-
taineer. Not long since I confounded him with
another, who was a better man, undoubtedly.”
_*.Dere, missy, I’se forgot sev’ral ’portant
‘tic’lars !” exclaimed Balaam, without heedin
Mignon’s last remarks. ‘‘ Here’s our tent, an
baggage; can’t get along ’thout,’em.”

“1 know they are useful, but necessity com-
pels us to leave them.”

The black lookedaround and shook his head
—equivalent to a declaration that he must have
them at any risk. Mignon gave him to under-
stand that she would confide the matter whol-

_ ty to his discretion, having unshaken faith in
~ his prudence.

* And now,” she resumed, “ is itnot time for
me to go?”

Balaam went out and reconnoitered once
more, coming back with the report that there
was a fair prospect of success, as the attention
of the ean. was still directed to the subject. of
Grenier’s death ; while Mariotand Callard were
yet talking earnestly—as he learned, by listen-
ing in the vicinity of the parties.

“TI hate to have ye try it,” said Balaam,
“cause it’s dangerous-like, and dars no know-
in’ what'll happen; but if ye’ve made up yer
mind to it, why, I s’pose you must. De Lord
knows what'll come ob all dis, for I doesn’t ;
but I'l stick to ye long as I’ve de breff ob life.
Now, go and manage it de best ye can, and I'l}
watch yer as long as I ean see ye.”

Mignon left the tent; a single glance over
the encampment assured her that the moment
was favorable. Moving quickly, her figure
was soon lost to Balaam’s view in the shadow

of the hill, at the base of which lay the valley.

Five minutes after, he saw her near the eotton-
woods, and was certain she would reach it
without discovery, which she did

It was then two hours past midnight The

down through a mist of silver. The mountains

pits gleaming faintly and wierdly in the psle
ight.

To Mignon’s imagination the view appeared
like giant castles, with lofty towers, gloomy
bastions, and rugged turrets. The defiles were
moats, spanned by drawbridges kept by genii.
Feelings of awe stole upon Mignon as she cast
her eyes towards those mighty barriers. The
mightiness of Nature, the grandeur of her works,
humbled herheart. The everfamished prairie-
dogs fled at her advance, stopping at a little dis-
tance to look back and redouble their eries ;
while occasionally, in the distance, a troop of
wolves howled their hideous. notes. . Though
inured to these sounds, Mignon—now that she
was alone—if not absolutely terrified, was
startled and nervous. There followed her also
an unpleasant remembrance of what had o¢
eurred that night directly before her, as well as
incidents of a similar nature that had happened*
in Brion’s band. As others had asked, so did
Mignon, “ Who is Redpath ?”

Her better judgment tola her that Redpath*
was @ savage, cunning and deadly, and that
was all. But why were his movements so
secret, his etep so noiseless, his approaches so.
mysterious? Easy questions to,answer. He
was secret because success depended upon se-
ereey ;,his step noiseless, for the reason that he
adopted extraordinary precautions; his ap-
prsanns mysterious, as the combined result of

ong practice and skill. Redpath, then, was
but a stealthy Indian, more maievolent than
his brethren . hence, more terrible. He was
daring, persevering and adroit ; but perhap he
might yet find an adversary a3 daring, perse-

vering, and adroit as he. He was butasavage, -

daubed with paint, and full of subtlety; he
would doubtless fall, ultimately, by the ball of
an American woodsman, and his name and
fame only survive.

Thus reflected Mignon, trying to suppress
those fears which were natural to the time and
place, and in which something very like super-
stition blended. Say what we may to the con-
trary, the strongest minds have an undereur-
rent of superstition, and the sturdiest seorfers
at the marvellous find a substratum of super-
naturalism in their souls. This is a truism that
the “atheists laugh” and the infidel’s ridicule
cannot overthrow. It is a good thing for man
that there is such a susceptibility within him ;
it is the only avenue through which to con-
vince him of the existence of a Supreme Power,
and a conscious life hereafter. Deas formed
no exception to the general body of humanity,
in this respect; and though the name of Ret

ET TL TE eee nt Seth

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ee eteerenre seein

neiprvemancees

pear ene—emeniienre

 
 
  
    
  
  
   
   
   
   
   
  
 
    
  
  
   
  
   
   
   
  
   
  
    
  
  
  

 

 

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, :

dae : REDPATH, THE AVENGER; OR,
* :

path had at first presented as a fabled terror,
she shared, unconsciously almost, in the pre-
vailing sentiment of the trappers, hunters and
voyageurs—that Redpath was a being’ some-
what between human and devilish.

Near the cotton-woods where she was to wait
the coming of Balaam, was a crevasse or gully,
the entranee to which was more deeply pic-
tured in shadow. Its slides were jagged and
high, worn and torn (formerly) by a strong
stream of water that tumbled from the lower
ranges in a season of rain. At the top, at the
very edges of the crevasse, their roots exposed
and robbed of soil, stood some trees of pinon,
cypress, and birch, bending their sickly tops
over the chasm. The place, lonely and sombre
as it was, appeared to offer to Mignon a safe
retreat until the black should join ber. | With
a step that faltered, lacking its wonted ‘firm-
ness, she passed into the gloom of the crevasse.
It was cooier thére—the night wind breathing
through as it erept from thehills. © Walking
on, she came to a deep dell or basin—a spot of
rare obscurity—of wich we’ have had ocea-
sion to speak. Beyoud were a series of eleva-
tions extending to the base of the Wind River
chain of the Rocky Mouutzins.

Mignon paused in that solitude. How com-
plete was her isolation! she seemed alone on
the face of the globe, orthe only inhabitant of
“a new world. Hundreds of miles distant were
the familiar objects of childhood, scenes indeli-
bly impressed in memory, home, with its ten-
der associations and kindred beloved. Why
was she in that isolation? Why kad she east

aside the trammels of her sex, and betaken to

such @ quixotic adventure? To save her father
from participation in ‘crime, and to secure, if
possible, the safety of Captain Brion, was the
never varying response which she gave to those
pnp Her father’s name always came

rst, afterward Brion’s; that order agreed better
with her delicacy. How would the sententious
world interpret all this ? the world with such
a severe sense of decorum—the world which
reaches just as far as one’s name and fame, aiid
no farther—all beyond being a blank!

“ Pear not!’ said a voice:

Mignon recoiled and cried out in alarm ; be-
side her stood a tall and motionless figure.

“ Be not afraid, pale-face.”

The speaker was an Indian of majestic height.
With his arms folded upon his breast, he stood
looking calmly at Mignon.

“Stand up like a man, and donot tremble
like a woman. Ravenclaw strikes not such as
thou! Thy chin is smooth, thy heart is soft,
and there is no power in thy arui to harm my
race,”’: : :

. The voice of the red man was deep and mu-
sical; it eame from his broad ehest without
effort. His eyes were dark and piercing as
those of the eagle; it seemed to Mignon that
abe beeame transparent before him, and he bad

to look at her only, to see what was passing
within. His bearing was dignified to a notable
degree. He spoke the English as though it
been his vernacular. {

“ The vagabond prairie-dog has a home, the
fox a covert, and the wild wolf's whelp a den;
but thou, O son of a mighty nation, art shel-
terless,” added the Indian. t P

“Take the goat from the mountains, the buf.
falo from the prairies, the wild horse from the
pampas, the fish from the water, and thee from
the dwellings of thy kindred. Each thing and
creature loves its element; therefore the goat
stays on the mountain; the buffalo on the
prairie, the wild horse on the pampas, the fish
in the water; wherefore art thou here?”

“You say well; you speakaccording to Na-
ture; but it would take long to tell you, som
of the eagle, why Iam in the country which
the Master of Life has given to the red man,”
replied Mignon, re-assured by the lofty yet
kindly manner of the native.

Ravenclaw walkedia few paces from Mignon,
and addressed some one in his own dialect;
immediately she héard steps hurrying away,
Raveuclaw returned to his former place ; bat,
as he did not speak, she followed his example.
Ina short time—it was long to Miguon—an
Indian woman appeared with a bundle. ;

“ Follow her, and do as she bids you,” sai
Ravenclaw, pointing to the woman}; he ther
spoke'to the lattér in his own tongue, who,
making a gesture to Mignon, proceeded to
cross the dell. There Mignon perceived @
hut, and entered it, in obedience to the signs
of her guide. The woman lighted a pine torch
by some embers that were glowing upon @
hearth of ‘stone! Thrusting the end of the
torch into the earth, she unrolled the bundle,
The maiden’s ¢heek erimsoned!—the bundle
contained female wearing apparel of Indian
style, which might have belonged to an Indian
belle, so elaborately was it made,-and so taste-
fully ornamented with those products esteemed
graceful and becoming by tawny daines and
red ‘damsels.

The Blackfoot woman, pointed to Mignon’s
clothes, and said, “Take off;” then to the
garments which she had brought, aud added,
“ Put on.” ?

The eyes of Ravenclaw had penetrated her
disguise. Was her artifice so transparent te
this son of the moutitains? Had Nature indeed
gifted him with keener instinets than the child
of cities, the pampered creature of civiliza-
tion? Was she a prisoner? What were his
intentions?’ Such queries ran’ rapidly through
her mind, while mechanically she obeyed the
commands of the woman.

A notable change was soon’ made in Mig-
non’s appearance, and one that was far from
displeasing. We cannot picture fully to the
feader’s imagination the effect of this novel
ecetume (wrought, as it was, in the height of

  

 

 
 

THE FAIR HUNTRESS OF THE SOUTH-WEST. 43

Indian art), or note the varions sriicles of
which it was composed—nor is it needful. We
will say, however, en passant, that Mignon’s
small foot did not look less pretty for the sub-
stitution of a more elegant moccasin, nor her
ankle less dainty for the fringed leggins. Her
toilet was not. considered complete till her
eheeks were stained with paint, and her hands
also, The womau then spread some skins
upon the ground before the tent, and Raven-
elew, seeing her with Mignon, approached, _
© Doughter of the pale-face,” he said, “Tam
of a warlike race, but. I do not war upon
Yevomen. Now, tell me why you are here?, I

"will listen—my ears are open.”

Mignon understood af once that the wishes
of the mn in whose presence she stood were
commands, and hot to be disregarded.

“Tt were better,” she answered, with tact,
*'that I yemain sileyt before a great chief and
& mighty warrior, a8 thy lofty bearing pro-
elaiuis thee to be. I have culled thee son of
the eagle, because the eagle is a noble bird,
With a daring spirit, proud plumage, and eyes
that are not dazzled by the sun. Passon, thou
of the strong wing, nor stoop in thy flight to
Notice the sparrow that flies not so high, nor
emulates thy deeds.”

*T said my ears were open; they are, but I
hear nothing. Are you speaking, Lilyface ?”
he said, somewhat haughtily.

‘You have called me Lilyface, because the
pile blood of my nation betrays itself in m
evuntenance. If is a good name—I like it ;
will teach my people to eall me thus, should I
live to return. Listen, chief: the lodge of
Lily-face is away on the border, with a hun-
dyed prairies and rivers between, She has
journeyed many days to reach the hunting-
gitounds of the Blackfoot. You have asked
why she came! Keep your ears open, and
you shall hear.”

Mignon, in that style pleasing to an Indian’s
faney, acquainted him with those particulars
which influenced her movements. She spoke
of Brion; described the character of Pierre
Mariot, finally unfolding his entire plan.
Ravenslaw remained calm and unmoved ;
while Mignon watched his face in vain to note
the effect of her story. The incidents of the
march were not passed over, but related in
their appropriate connection. When she fin-
ished, Ravenclaw was in possession of the more
important matters contained in the foregoing
pages.

“ A curse is upon your nation,” said Raven-
elaw. “That curse is the Jove of yellow dust ;
it turns them into greedy wolves; they howl
and tear each other, and are never at rest,
They die by the way; their graves lie along
the line of march. It is well; the Great Spirit
has sent it upon them. They tremble at the
name of Redpath—his deeds strike th2m dumb ;
they become as women-—~they grow pale, like

ws, when the aveuger is, abrcad—-when
ent feet of the unknown pursues—when

  

si
‘bis steps are in the mountains, and in the de-

files. Lily-face, so perish thy race!”

“ And wherefore?” asked Mignon,

“Because they are pusaing us over ihe
mountains iote the sea. Fish live in the sea,
but men cannot. But we have turned on our
pursuers Jike the hunted buffalo, and, will go
over the suowy ranges, fighting and bieeding,
and staining the elitis with blood. Gur old
men may die, and be buried in sight of the
glorious hunting-ground of the Blackfoot na-
tion ; but our young men and our children will
fall in arms, or perish ignobly by the sounding
shores of the great waters.”

Mignon looked earnestly at Rayenelaw, and
believed that the prophet-heart was beating in
his swelling bosom.

“Home and country avé as sacred to the red
ian as the white. There is but one God, Lily-
face, and he is as much the God of the Indian
as the white man,’ added Ravenclaw, in tenes
that thrilled Mignon.

“You are right!” sheexvlaimed. “You are
my brother; there is but one humanity, one
people, one race. The soul of a hero flashes
from your eyes; the voice of truth speaks
through you; the cause of the Indian is just.
Yes, Ravenclaw, you are leaving a fair herit-
age—it/is slipping from you; your way is, in-
deed, over the mountains— your children’s
graves will be the sea.”

“And the great and awful Master of Life
will avenge us on a proud and rapacious na-
tion!” eried Ravenclaw, with reverential fer-
vor. “He will smite your people—he will
sweep them away with the power of his
mighty arm. He will remember the wrongs
of the red man long after the red man has be-
come extinct; and, in his tremendous wrath,
he will arise and shake heaven and earth ; your
stars shall fall, and your bloody eagle shall
shriek for help !” ;

_Ravenelaw stretched out his hand, and his
expression was sublime. Mignon was awed ;
she felt a compassion for the red race that
moved her to tears.

“You do well to weep, daughter of a doomed
people ; even warriors have dropped tears like
women, and wiped them from their faces with
bloody hands.”

Ravenclaw’s arm fell to his side, his chin sunk
upon his breast, and he stood panting for
breath ; another pang would have broken his
heart.

Mignon did not speak—she dared not inter-
rupt a grief so sublime. She waited for hie
kingly spirit to grow calm. When he ad
dressed her again, his emotion had subsided,
and his tones were subdued to kindness, almost
tenderness.

“ But I have spoken to you as if you were @
warrior, and nota woman. Yon are not guilty

+ aan Sea IIS NSP IRS SAS AD NNER SSAA

ene

any

serpent se aneaeay ene FET

nrmnneses

reo

 
   
 

  
   
    
    
 
 
 
  
   
  
 
   
 
   
  
  
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
  
 
   
  
 

44

for the sins of your nation—you shall not suf-
fer. Love has made you daring, or your voice
would not have been heard in this valley. Wear
the garments you have on; they become your
sex better, aa you are safer inthem. Take
this, and wear it always in sight ; it will keep
you from harm when others are ready to
perish.”

The chief gave Mignon a raven, wrought in
beads upon a piece of dressed otter skin ; she
fastened it upon her breast.

“JT will wear it,” she said, ‘‘in remembrance
of a generous chieftain ; it shall be my only
talisman.”

“Go to the wigwams of my nation,” resumed
Ravenclaw. ‘ Your frame is too tender to go
yonder, where the mountain-tops are covered
with snows. Remain, and in a few moons you
shail be conducted safely, and with an escort
of warriors, to one of the great forts of your

eople. This false-hearted Mariot, this craven
Preihutha, shall feel the power he has in-

. voked; he shall die as he deserves, and his

hireling dogs shall share in his downfall.
ThoughI slay my enemies, I protect the good,
the beautiful, whom the Master of Life has

made to love, and not to destroy. You are

not such as smite my brethren; your foot is
not such as goes on the war-path, nor your
voice such as shouts the battle-ery of the pale-
faces ; therefore, you live and speak to Raven-
claw. Think not that justice and humanity
dwell with the white men only; they have
habitations in forests, and in the hearts of men
called savages.”

“The heart of Lily-face beats with grati-
tude; the generosity of Ravenclaw fills her
with wonder and admiration; yet she loves
her people, nor would remain in the lodges of
the Blackfoot nation, because her father’s spirit
would grow heavy with sorrow, and her kind-
red would mourn her as one dead, Let Lily-
face depart in ‘peace to join the hunters of the
mountains.”

A cloud rested upon the brow of the Indian.

“TI thought to save you from danger, but you
refuse to be thus saved. Think again. Would
you see the tomahawk and sealping-knife erim-
soned with the blood of your people? Would
you see them falling like leaves, with no power
to aid them ?” , i ;

‘God knows I would see no euch horrors!’
exclaimed Mignon.

“Remain; and you shall be as safe as if by
the fireside of your father’s wizwam.”

“TI doubt it not—I doubt it not!” she re-
plied. ;

“Yet your heart is near the ehief of the
white trappers,” said Ravenclaw, after a pause.
“Be it so, you shall go to him in safety if it
takes all my warriors to conduct you; yet I
swear by the Great Spirit that not a hair of
your bead shall fail if you stay.”

See ee 7

REDPATH, THE AVENGER : OR,

“You have ingpired me with such contt-
dence,” returned Mignon, “that your word is
to me like that of the Master of Life. If I were
weary, and you said to me, ‘ Lie down there
and sleep in safety,’ I would do so, and rest
without troubled dreams.”

Mignon smiled sweetly, and held out her
hand to Ravenclaw. He took it, and held it a
moment in his own. He did not utter his
thoughts, his lips were elosed, his face calm—
though the sternness of its expression, was
gone; but his breathing grew quick, shakin
his broad chest with its vehemence. Whe sha
tell what strong feeling was wrestling with
his proud spirit, and how nobly he mastered
himself?

vs Lilyface,” he said, in tones that welled up
from his soul, ‘‘ you make me think better of
your race. I will not forget you, I will think
of you till I go to the land of spirits where my
fathers have gone. Look up and see the stars,
and remember, many moons from now, when
you stand again near the wigwams of your kin-
dred and behold them shining—tha tyou saw
them once in a far off country, and with the
chief of a hunted people beside you. In his
dreams, Ravenclaw has heard a voice like
thine ; but after to-night it will be heard save
in dreains only. Lilyface, daughter of my ener
mies, we meet because it was the will of the
Great Spirit, and we part because it is also his
will.” s

Ravenclaw relinquished Mignon’s hand, re-
peating, in a voice of deepest melancholy: “ We
meet—we part!” ;

“We may meet again in the land of souls,”
said Mignon, :

“ The red man and the white will be forever
distinct,” resumed Ravenclaw.

“In that country to which we are going, all
nations will forget their earthly diiferences,
Enemies will be reconciled, races will blend,
and kindreds and families and people mingle
happily,” returned Mignon.

“Never!” exclaimed the ehief. “The soul
of a red man and the soul of a white will re-
main eternally unlike each other; their desires
and instincts are not the same.” :

“The revelations of that mysterious life are
hidden from our eyes; we see darkly, and
know imperfeetly ; but the beneficent hand of
the Great Spirit will remove the vail, and at
death we shall discern more clearly, and think
more comprehensively. Chief of a powerful
nation, adieu till then!”® ;

“Be it so—it is decreed; and what is de-
creed cannot be changed. Our paths have been
approaching each other since the hour our lives
commenced; but having met, alter to-night
they will forever diverge. Daughter of the
psleface, a vcice calls you away; leave my
sight-—go, go !”

Ravenclaw drew his form to a lofticr eight,

 
 

 

 

 

 
      
      
 

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THE FAIR HUNTRESS OF THE SOUTH-WEST. 45

and assumed a sterner expression. Mignon
took a ring from her finger; and placing it in
his hand, said:

“Tt is the gift of Lilyface—keep it.”

Ravenclaw held the glittering jewel between
his thumb and finger. ;

“This will be more precious to me than my
life,” he replied. ‘ Iwill wear it on my breast,
where it shall feel the motion of my heart as
long-as it beats. It shall be with me when I
aleep and when I awake ; it shall go with me
to battle, my hands shall oe it when I die.
In years. to eome, should the plongh of the
white man disturb my bones, they will east up
this gift. And now go, go! You shalj hear no
more the voice of Ravenclaw.”

Mignon hastened away ; at the distance of a
few paces she paueed and waved her hand, but
Ravenclaw stood immovable, and made no
sign.

CHAPTER IX.

BRION’S NUMBERS ARE DIMINISHED.

Brion’s camp was astir very early in the morn-
mg. The hunt was to be resumed, and the hunt-
ers wished to be seasonably in the saddle
Headley and his party, excited by their new
hopes and schemes, were among the first to
awake, They had dreamed of a golden harvest,
and the “Casa Montezuma.” The partisan
had not betaken to his blanket until nearly
daylight, and weary with his vigils, he was
yet slumbering.

Mariot was not to be seen. The gold-seek-
ers, drawn together by sympathy of feeling,
were cooking their breakfast very amicably.
Inquiries were made respecting the absence o1
the grand projector of the new enterprise—
Headley only appearing undisturbed by the cir-
eumstance, bg was very naturally looked to for
light upon the subject. : I

“He left us last night,” said Headley, in alow
tone, ‘He came to see me before he went, and
instructed me what'to do, ‘IfI don’t return,’
he said, ‘ before morning, you need not expect
me, but fall ‘back ‘to the Red Buttes with as
many as have the courage to follow you, where
we will arrange everything to mutual satisfac-
tion.’ ‘This was what he told me.”

Headley arose with a determined look.

“T am oné that goes, who will follow?” he
added, glancing inqtiringly at his friends.

“ Let us go for our horses,” said Conroy.

“Agreed, agreed'l” cried @ dozen voices.
“To the Red Buttes—to the Red Buttes!”

Buckeye was passing the malcontents, and
heard enough to understand what was going
forward ; he ranand aroused Brion from sleep.

“Come, cap’n, it’s ‘time for you to act; the
Headley and Dorelle party are deserting.” .

~ Brion was instantly upon ‘his feet and walk-

ing toward the horses, which, having eatem
their fill, were lying down.

« Ain’t you goin’ to call out some of the men
to help you?’ said Pucks
d “No, I can help myself!” said the partisan,

rmly. F

Be found Headley bridling a horse, and
others preparing to do the same.

“Men,” said Brion, “these animals belong
to the American Fur Company; you cannot
take them.”

Headley was confused. :

“What!” he exclaimed, * have we not rid-
den these horses since tke hour we left Fort
Leavenworth ?”

“So you haye had the light of the moon, but
I think you do not own the moon,” replied
Brion, quietly.

“We have ridden these animals, we have
called them ours, we have groomed and cared
for them, and we shall take them !” rejoined
Headley, raising the saddle from the ground.

“ Stop!” thundered the partisan, “do notadd
robbery to unmanly conduct. Everything you
see here is in my charge, and I will spend the
last drop of my blood in its defence! Go, if you
will, in search of the Casa Montezuma, and the
fabulous treasures of the Valley of the Gila, but
go as you are. Youshall not plunder my camp
for the benefit of your mad schemés. Hac you
made known to me the cause of your dissatis-
faction, and informed me of your intentions to
abandon my party and seek for treasure in a
distant region, I would in turn have dealt
frankly with you ; I would have told you that
you are being duped by a villain; but this is
past—you are unworthy of my confidence. Go,
and learn by bitter experience that you should
deal honestly with all men, not disregard
solemn compacts. I see here thirteen, who
cease from this moment to be memners of my
band. Leave us at once, and never returo—
unless as penitent and reasonable men, desiring
protection.”

“Protection !” sneered Headley,

“By the beard of Joe Smith!” eried Buok-
oe who had followed Brion; “ you'll need
it?

“Then doubtless we shall call upon you
returned Conroy. ;

“Shoulder your rifles, my friends,” said
Headley, to his adherents.

“To the Red Buttes—to the Red Buttes!”
shouted others.

“I pity these misguided men, my anger
oie to compassion,” said the partisan to

uckeye, in a low tone.

“It's sympathy wasted, cap’n; it isn’t in
’em to be Wise and prudent, especially while
that tall Missourian is among ’em. The quicker
you get rid of such fellers the better ; for they
ain’t fit for your business, and never will be,”
answered Buckeye.

“Though indignant at your conduct, I re-

DRAENEI,

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46
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zrvet to see you rushing blindfold into new diffi.
culties and dangers. Men, Jet me warn you ta
shun Dorelle, and make your way with as much
secrecy and expedition as possible to Fort Lar.
amie,” resumed Brion, addressing the gold.
seekers once more.

“You speak of difficulties and dangers as
though there were none attending your expe-
dition, and we were not at this moment turn-
ing our backs upon them,” said Conroy.

“Once more, my friends—shoulder arms—
march! If we cannot have our horses, we can
§ on foot and trust to luck—and Monsieur

orelle.”

The gold-seekers fell, into marching order,
and moved off in quite a spirited manner. )

“Dim-sighted fools!” exclaimed Buckeye.
“They are marching to destruction !”

“Or to join'the Rocky Mountain Fur Com-
pany,” added Brion.

“They won’t do it, even if the alternative be
presented; they’ve got their minds puffed u
with ideas of treasure and sudden wealth, an
that’s a hard notion to get rid on. They’ll in-
sist on the original project.”

“ As long as they think there’s any truth in

_ it,” said Brion.

“And Mariot won’t tell’em he’s lied, in a
hurry.”

“Well, they have provoked their fate what-
ever it may be. My party is minus thirteen
men ; thirteen from seventy-two leaves fifty-
nine.”

“You've lost thirteen men, but your band
isn’t weakened; it’s strengthened, beeause the
remainder are disciplined somewhat, have ex-
perience, and ecr. be commanded. Men that
won't be governed ain’t the kind for your pur-
pose, cap n.”

While this scene was franspiring, the main
body of the party were quietly eating break-
fast around their respective fires.

The sun was rising above the level of the
eastern prairies ; he came up like a ball of li-
quid fire. Soft and grateful zephyrs, bearing
aromatie odors, breathed around the mountain-
eer as he walked thoughtfully about the en-
campment, giving orders, The events of the
morning had induced him to change his mind
in regard to hunting the buffalo. His cam
was in @ situation too much exposed to be left
in charge of asmall party, which would neces-
sarily be the case, should he send out twenty
or thirty of his band to hunt. He, therefore,
formed the resolution of moving forward toa
eanon a few miles farther on. Onee in pos-
session of the canon, he could hold his ground
against a latge body of enemies with half his
eompany ; but he was suspicious that it was
occupied by savages, who were waiting a favor-
able opportunity to attack them, either while
ae were hunting or seattered on the march,
end unprepared for resistance This suspicion
was produced by what lie had heard when lis-

 

REDPATH, THE AVENGER; OR,

tening to the conversation of Mariot and Bea.
vertaker, and the suggestions previously made
by the former in regard to his route, he having
advioal him to keep near the mountains. ~

* Accompanied by Buckeye, Brion mounted
and rode toward the canon It was a fixed

principle with the latter, always to take the .

post of danger, and be the foremost in’ situa-
tions requiring courage and skill. When ap-
proaching a place where an enemy was know:
to be concealed, he asked no one to solve th
matter, but settled the question by his own
personal bravery and tact. If the front wae
threatened, he was in the front; if the rear, he
was in the rear, taking at once the responsibil-
ity and the risk.

“Get up, Flash!” said Buckeye, giving his —

‘horse the rein.
While the parties were galloping toward the
eanon, the clatter of hoofs arrested their atten-
tion. The sounds came from beyond a small
strip of timber forty or fifty reds ahead, an?
Heeeney two persons turned the weod an.
rew in sight.

“Ingins!” exclaimed Buckeye.

“No,” replicd Brion, “ one is @ negro.”

“ And the other is an Ingin woman or gal, or
somethin’ of that natur.” :

“Tt would seem so,” said the partisan, ob-
serving the advancing persons sharply. “ At
all events, their intentions are not hostile,” he
added, :

“By the beard of Smith!” cried Buckeye,
“that nigger feller is ridin’ the same hoss that
~~ youngster rode who fell in with us ’tother

ay.”

“The resemblance is striking,” I confess,”
returned Brion.

“There’s no resemblance about it; it’s the
same,” rejoined the other.

“It is very possible,” rejoined the partisan.

The objects of these remarks approached.

“Are you lookin’, cap’n?” asked Buckeye,
in a low voice. te

“T am,” said Brion.

“Jsn't. she oncommon? what a face! what a
figure! what an eye!”

“ Handsome, certainly,” returned the partisan.

“‘Bewitchin’, cap’n!” added Buckeye, with
increasing enthusiasm.

“ Beware that you do not fall in love with
this Indian beauty,” said Brion, playfully.

“JT sha’n’t make no promises, ’cause love ’ll
go where it’s sent. Flash, you rascal, prick
up your ears and cut a caper!”

ash, in obedience to his master’s mandate,
and quickened, perchance, by the spur, reared
and caracoled coltishly.

“ Now’s yer time, cap’n,” continued the trap-
per, ‘‘to make an impression. Put on the iron
and show off; these Ingin gals are ’mazin ford
of horsemanship.”

“ Beavers and otters!” exclaimed Bucke'
“the gal don't ride like one of the

 

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THE FAIR HUNTRESS

siptiies. She sets oa sideways jes’ like a con-
varted Christian female. Beard of the prophet
Smith! but isn’t it sing’lar ?”
“She sits gravefully, I’m sure,” said Brion.
“ Asa queen!” quoth Buckeye.

_If the appearance of the Indian maiden pro-
duced such a marked effect upon Buckeye,
what must have been the emotions of Brion,
who believed thatin her he recognized the face

and form of Mignon? The wonderful disclo-

eures of the previous night had prepared the
way to such a recognition. Having seen the
features of Balaam, he was not one to forget
them; and he was well assured, by the few
words he heard hiz. utter on, that occasion,

that he would never be found far from his .

young mistress. The bosom of the mountain-
eer was agitated by doubt. love, fear, admira-
tion. Mignon ‘approached, while Balaam
checked his horse and fell in the rear. When
near enough, she raised her eyes, and asked: .

“Ts not this Captain Brion, the partisan of
the American Fur Company ?”

« Yes,” said Brion, respectfully.

““T have that to say which must be my ex-
euse for appearing before you in this garb, and
under circumstances so peculiar,” she added,

‘averting her eyes, her cheeks becoming sud-

denly suffused.

Brion’s brave heart beat.rapidly. ‘The mo-
desty and heroism of Mignon charmed him
He thought of what she had done, and the
dangers she had dared. And for what had she
tempted such perils? The query came with
stunning force, What but love makes woman
bold ?

“ You need no excuse for appearing before
Ben Brion;” he replied, with warmth. “ Your
wishes shall be my commands; you have only
to name them. beg of you to be frank, and
trust me as if we had met and established an
acquaintance.” :

Mignon looked inquiringly at the partisan
to learn if his ‘words had other significance
ba what they seemed to have upon their sur-

ce. '

“My communications will consist simply of
vague warnings, which] fear will appear inde-
finite and unsatisfactory,” Mignon resumed.

“Such apprehexzions do injustice to my na-
ture,” said Seiam. o

“So I shall endeavor to persuade myself,”
continued Mignon, with captivating ingenuous-
ness. “I love to think well of humanity; I
have pleasure in.seeing pour human nature ex-
alted. I will—to employ a Jewish simile—
deal frankly. and truly with thee, though it
may cost me pain and confusion. You won-
der why I am here; it is to warn you of the
danger of which I have spoken, this is why I
&m before you.”

“ For me!” exclaimed Brien, astounded at
euch a declaration.

“Hear me; the danger whieh threatened

OF THE SOUTH-WEST. 47

you e¢ompromised the honor of ome who is
dear to me,” rejoined Mignon.

If the declaration she had first made filled
him with hope, the last avowal dispelled it.
One who was “dear to her!” . Ah, that must
be’a lover ot a husband!

“You are the victim of a wicked seheme,
which has for its object the destruction of your
party. The man to whom belongs the pater
nity of this plot, will not fail through softness
of heart or scruples of conscience.” {

“ May Task his name?”

“T cannot tell you—it would involve ar-
other. If I can defeat him without exposing
him, I will.”

“He is Pierre Mariot,” said Brion.

Miguon grew pale. f

“Tt is too true,” she answered ‘You have
discovered the secret.” :

“T even know you,” resumed the mountain-
eer.

Mignon looked up in alarm.

“Will you speak my name ?” she added.

“Mademoiselle Bellmar; those to whom
friendship gives the right to address you fa-
miliarly, eall you Mignon.”

Mignon’s face became crimson. _A loveliér
countenance could not have been presented to
the gaze of the mountaineer. His sympathies,
his love, his soul itself, seemed to pass over to
Mignon, “He idealized her perfections, he
spiritualized her beauty. The conquest which
began at Westport, was now complete. Mig-
non beeame all that was divine in woman,
Brion wished to kneel at her feet and do ho
mage.

“You are mght,” she responded, pensively.

“ And do you remember that we once met?”

“ Well, it was at night; you laid me under
obligations which I shall not forget.”

* “And did you imagine that I eould forget,

Mademoiselle Bellmar? Pardon my boldness,
but your idea has been with me ever since. I
have thought of you on the march—I have
dreamed of you while sleeping on the prairies.
And you are here before me! Oh! this cannot
be reality—-this is the veriest hallucination !”
At first, Brion fixed his eyes on the maiden’s
face, but, startled at his own temerity, he al-
‘lowed them to sink till they rested upon Mig-
non’s little foot. Mademoiselle felt the blood
glowing in her cheeks, and dancing through
er swelling veins preternaturally quick.
“There will be time for gallant speeches
when we meet under different cireumstances,”
she resumed, with dignity, easting off her wo-
manly wéakness. y :
“T crave pardon; but I never speak what I
do not mean.”
_“ And what is it that you mean?” she asked,
with asperity.
“Since you are offended, I dare not confess.
It were more becoming to ‘thank you for the
undeserved exertions you have made in my be

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8
haif. Mademoiselle, I know not how to clothe
my feelings of gratitude in words.” ;

“T will spare you the trouble,” said Mignon,
with a smile, extending her hand to him.

“T swear, by this hand, to be the most de-
voted of your friends—to sacrifice life, every-
thing, to secure your safety.”

“That is much, and unasked, too ; for I did
not come like love-lorn damsel seeking adven-
turous knight.”

Mignon pronouneed these words with a gmile
on her lips, but ia a tone soraewhat indicative
of injured pride, which the partisan did not
fail to notice.

“T cherish no thoughts or feelings not to
your favor,” he said, quickly. “I entertain
for you the profoundest respect. Never, I
trust, will you have reason to blush for word
or act of mine, or regret the step you have
taken to ward off pressing danger. Chance
has already made me acquainted with the na-
ture of the peril that impends. Mariot is in-
deed a villain, and it is truly unfortunate that
a man like Monsieur Bellmar, your father—
of whose name I have heard honorable men-
tion—should be connected with him in busi-
lit:

10 one ean regret itmore deeply than I; it
has jong been a source of pain,” :

“Tam willing to absolve Monsieur Bellmar
from all participation in this scheme for the
destruction of my band, and the injury of my
employers.”

“You do him no more than justice; he igs
anxious that the designs of Mariot should come
to naught.”

“ He was acquainted with those designs, it
would seem ?”

Mignon was embarrassed; she withheld a

portion of the truth tosereen him from the im-
putation of guilt.
- “T chanced to hear,” she said, ‘a conversa-
tion not intended for my ears, which made me
& party to his purposes. Being in possession
of his secret, it was natural I should disclose it
to my father.”

“Very true,” said Brion, “and for his sake
I doubt not you have accomplished this peril-
ous peerings.

“Yes, it is so; you construe me truly and
generenaly. I would do much rather than
ave my father’s name linked with infamy.”

That expression does you much honor, and
faises you still higher in my esteem. Having
done all you can do, it is probable that you
wish to return ; is it 80?”

“T put myself under your protection until
[shall be so fortunate as to meet a party re-
turning from the mountains, then I shall go
back.”

“To afford you every assistance in my
power will be but a méagre testimonial of my

gtastude I have duties to perform requiring

 

REDPATH, THE AVENGER; OR,

my immediate attention, butI will first com
duct you to camp.”

“Ts it far, captain ?”

“Yousee yonder hill; it is at the right of
that.”

“Then I need not trouble you to go back;
Balaam will easily find it.”

Brion demurred at this arrangement, but
Mignon was firm—insisting that the way was
short, and their acquaintance should not com-
mence with taking him from his duties *

“ Besides,” she added, looking kindly at the
black, “ Balaam is as good as a regiment.” Bax
laam was flattered; shaking his brawny arm,
he declared himself a “ host’ in the defence of
his mistress,

“ There’s a eretur among us,” quoth Buck-
eye, “that none of us can guard against.”

“ Redpath ?” said Mignon. '

“That's the nat’ral varmint I mean,” re-

turned Buckeye.
‘“T do not fear Redpath, even; I wear a
charm,” Mignon rejoined.

“You wear a good many charms, miss, that
are jes’ calkiiated to turn a feller’s head e’ena-
most,” Buckeye replied, casting afurtive glance
at the partisan.

“T refer to a special charm,” resumed Mig-
non, blushing, “‘ which will guard me in the
hour of danger.”

“ For me there’s no charm like your beauty,
miss, and to protect that, I’d stan’ afore an army
of savage riptiles like Redpath.”

“Oh, you are sincere, I’m sure! so I thank
you, and will proceed.”

“Remember direetions—bear well to the
right. If no accident occurs, I will be with
you soon.” Then, to Balaam: “Tell my men
that you met their leader, and he expects them
to treat this young lady with respect.”

“ Yes, massa, I’llspoke dat to ‘em,” said Ba-
laam,

“T was correct,” affirmed Buckeye, when
Mignon was-out of hearing, “about the black
hoss.”

“T think you were, really,” Brion replied.

“ One thing I should like to know,” added
the trapper.

“Well?” ‘

“The youngster’s name that used to ride
the cretur which now carries that dusky hea-
then.” :

“ Orevier.
him ?” j

“He appeared foppish ; but between you and
I, I mistrusted that it) was a woman the minute
I put my eyes on him.”

“TJ cannot give you eredit for so much per.
spicacity. Had ‘you been suspicious of her
sex, your reattig would have been less repul-
sive. Your gallantry I cannot doubt, since
you passed your compliments upon yonder
young lady so adroitly. If you goon in that

Confess that you did not like

 

 

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9

THE FAIR HUNTRESS OF THE SOUTH-WEST. 49

way, by my faith; Buckeye, you will, preve a
dangerous rival!” ; + saad

The trapper drew, up his shoulders, signifi-
feantly. “ ny j

“| didn’t mean, you,should get ahead of me,
cap'n,. though you're vary fluent in speech;
but, by the oeae of Smith! you made a plump
declaration!”

“T hope I was not guilty of such folly,” said
Brion, biting his lip.

“That oucemmon, eretur would make any
man commit indiscretions, cap’n...Them eyes
of heru'll shine afore me for, the next twenty-
‘four hours like diimons, And perhaps you
didn’t; notice the little foot, no longer than a
pdoll’s ?” ' i ;
no ‘* Perhaps not,” said the mountaineer, drily.

“Her hands are like fairies’ hands,”, persist-
ed Buckeye .

“You are observing, my friend.”

“And hersmile,is of @ heavenly natur,” said
Buckeye, perseveringly.

“Be quiet; look yonder,.just where those
bashes skirt the plateau, and tell meif you:see

 Bught thatis suspicious?” f

4 Eee a motionless object, that seems, from
this distance, like a stick or a stone.”

“ Watch. it a moment.”

“Tt moves s little; it’s a riptile—one of
‘the onregenezate perductions of this great ken-

I
a Let us move that,way ; perchance we may
)stig.up.a nest.of them, Ihave known one to
stand like a fixture, while several of his. com-
anions were congealed in. the; surrounding
thickets. It may be thus in the present in-
Stance ”

Bending somewhat to the left, that their ad-
vanee might be eovered by an arm of timber
trenching out into the prairie, the wary ve
pars approached the suspicious object, which,
afler all, might prove a wolf or a buffalo; for
the space intervening was yet considerable.
Keeping a eareful watch in every direction
where they. eupposed it possible an enemy
sould be concealed, they soon turned the tim-
ber; but that which had drawn their scrutiny
was no longer in sight; it had wanished in the
wood, sank into the earth, or was hidden in
the grass.

“We were seen, you perceive,” said Brion.
“Our design was fathomed before we changed
our course. But what is this upon this tree?
A human figure carved in the bark !”

The mountaineers rode to the tree, and ex-
amined the carving, which was yt fresh.

“ Not ten minutes have elapsed since theedge
of the knife left these lines,” said Brion.

“Not five,” said Buckeye. ‘The sap yet
flows from the wounds. Now this wasn’t made
for nothin’; there’s:meanin’ to it, as there is
about everythin’ an Ingin does.” *

“ Possibly it was cut merely for amusement,”
replied the partisan. ;

“No, sir; depend on’t there’s,some deyiltry
in it.””.

“The handiwork of Redpath,’ answered
Brion, with a smile and an:incredulous look.

“Tt wouldn't bestrange, though I don’t think
the eretur; finds ‘time for, much fancy-work of
this particular description.”

“ It strikes me;, Buckeye, that you really fear
this incomprehensible Redpath.”

Fear is a, word I don't yery,,.much like,
cap’nj,even from you. Jil thank you to’ find
the man who'll call mea coward to my face.
As for Redpath, he’s like nobedy else--a sort
of Ingin. devil» that, baffles the wisest of us;
but: ’m not afraid of, him—no, not by no
means; and in fact, I should like to. meet him
face to face, as one brave man meets. another.
I would, put.a good American rifle-ball through
his body; I would kill him as I would a wolf,

jand his accursed art and mystery would perish

with him.”

The mountainers, were bending over their
horses’; necks, looking, at. the figure; the air
was slightly Rare and something passed
between them,and struck the object at which
they were looking with a sharp concussion.

‘Both instinctively drew back—a long arrow

was quivering in the tree. For a moment,
Brion was too much astonished to speak or to
act. on

“ By the beard of Smith!” said Buckeye.

The sound of his voice aroused the partisan;
putting spurs to his, horse, he dashed toward
the timber.

“ By heavens!” he muttered. “J will make
an attempt to solve this mystery.”

He urged his horse into the wood, which,
being free from underbush, offered but little im-
pediment ; be galloped through and around it,
aud came back with his animal heated and
foaming.

“Why do you sit motionless? Why not
make an effort to find this invisible archer?”
asked the trapper. ‘

“A sense of gratitude fastens me here,
cap’n.”’

“A gense of gratitude? I do not under-
stand.” :

“Tt is jes’ here; consider, and you'll pér-
ceive that the arm that sent that shaft direetly
to the head of that figure, could as easily have
sent it through your head or mine.”

“ That is a very just conclusion. Buckeye. I
did not pause to think of nce points; but in-

deed I could searcely find it in my heartto .

draw a hair-sight on one, who, having my life
in his power, did not take it. In this you have
acted wisely. Yes,the eye that aimed that arrow

‘could have aimed it at a,human brain instead

of an insentient one like that. What narrow

boundary lies between ug and death!” -
wf -

os a

TREE

PA TERS STIS

[
j

 

 

 

 

  

pera cE: IN

pt NE TS

 
  
 

i

f

“Szarcely wider than the edge of my hunt-
in’-knife.”

“Ah, ‘Buckeye, we must travel that trail
sometime !”

‘A strange road—a strange road! ‘And it’s
been used a good deal, too.”

“ Death is, at times, a cold and arful mys-
tery to me; but not always. What is it to

ou?”
ye Texpect my mind is a dark and ignorant
one, but it too often seenis to me an eternal
sleep. Perehance, I shall go Wack to élement-
al dust, and be as I was a thousand years
ago—a little matter in motion, only changin’
form.”

“ That isnot the most cheerful belief imagin-
‘able, but far better than a future of pain.”

While Brion was thus conversing, his hands
were not idle; he was cutting the arrow from
the tree with his hatchet—which, when ‘ex-
tracted, he éxamined with a feéling of intense
curiosity. The sharp, polished, tapering steel
head. delicately small, the long, smooth shaft
attached, had for him a peculiar interest—con-
nected. as they were, with the fate of ‘Town-
send and Minten, Stringer and Grénier.

“It is wondrously well wrought,” he re-
marked.

“And marvellously well-spéd, too,” added
Buckeye.

“I will keep it as a memento of Redpath.”
. “ Also to.make you think, perhaps, that the
mate to it is kept for you, and’ you will some
time receive it.”

“The eapen was now mear at hand, and as

BO REDPATH, THE AVENGER, OR,

 

they drew in sight of it, the partisan saw.
human form standing upon the summit of a
high cliff, whieh’ he quickly pointed out to the
trapper. The sun was shining upon the jagged
elevation gloriously, making the figure appean
as if clothed in garments of flame. He gazed
down upon the horsemen a moment, waved his
hand, and disappeared.

Brion job eA inquiringly at his companion,

“Tt may be the Evil One himself; he shone
like a pillar of fire!” suggested Buckeye.

“ His majesty has a majestic figure, then ?”

“He can assume any shape, undoubtedly.”

The mountaineers entered the canon, and

“passed through’ it ; it sheltered no visible’ ene-

my, and they turned their horses’ heads toward
the encampment of the previons night, Brion
entirely absorbed in thought.

“Do you know,” said Buckeye, interrupting
his reverie, “ that Redpath is not the only one
among us that'is dangerous? There is one
who aims not at the bead, but at the heart,
and her arrows go straight as a rifle-ball.”

Brion wtitbed under the trapper’s raillery,
but deemed it wisest to keep silent. r

“« And yet this fair areher, though she ‘doesn’t
aim at the head, affects the brain not a@ litle
with her pretty arrows, which are launched
from her sparklin’ eyes.” ;

The mountaineer confessed, internally, that
there was truth in this metaphor, inasmuch aa
the insidiously wounding weapons of Mignon
were vibrating beneath his hunting frock, ‘at
the very centre of a great ‘and active mtsele,
which is indispensable to life. 3 '

 

 
 

 

THE FAIR HUNTRESS

CHAPTER KX
4 SACRIFICE TO THE CORN-SPIRI.

Mignon and the black intended to follow the
directiens of Brion to the letter ; but notwith-
) atanding his instructions to keep to the right,
Balaam unwittingly took the left side of the
hill.,, They had made half the circuit of the hill
«before the consequences of their inattention
were,apparent. A yell recalled Balaam to the
outer waking world—rudely, it must be con-
fessed, but effectually. Mignon was the first
to realize the misfortune, that had befallen
them. She perceived around her a circle of
dusky men, armed with spears, knives, and
ns ; she had fallen into an ambuscade of In-
ians. The discovery was one to try the firm-
est nerves. ;Balaam, seeing a red hand grasp
his horse’s bridle, thought it time to bestir
himself; with a sweep of his long arm he felled
the offender, then ee ae a small axe
which was secured at his saddle, and in the use
of which he was practiced, he struck down an-
other savage, and prepared for a sturdy defence
of his mistress. Enraged at his resistance, they
/8warmed, upon him,in overwhelming numbers,
with loud, vindictive whoops.
| Fona.time)the giant strength of the black
opreyailed,.his, weapon gleaming around him in
apid circles, scattering his foes; but anon a
v hatchet hurled: by. a warrior. took effect upon
his-head. The faithful negro cast a despairing
look at Mignon, and lost his seat in the saddle ;
~but when upon, the ground, he sprang up and
shook himself like a lion; then eyen Mignon
ybelieved he might, prove unconquerable He
struck pay then sank upon one knee,
yet, continuing to resist and defy them in, his
wn peculiar way. Perceiving that his strength
“waa failing. he turned,his eyes toward his be-
ved mistress.
“The red niggers hab fixed me—God bress
ayes missy !” he said, and fell forward upon his
ce, The infuriated savages would have man-

@led and) mutilated his body—but their chief ~

 

 

OF THE SOUTH-WRST. 51

commanded them to Jesist, adding—that eow-
ards might be hacked and cut in pieces, but
not, brave, men who sell their lives dearly.
This humane Indian, however, did not waive
the established usage of his race, and in a mo-
ment held up poor Balaam’s scalp. - At ithe
sight of this reeking trophy, Mignon swoonuil.
When she eankenel: she was seated at the faut
of a tree, her body supported by the trunk
The natives were grouped together afew parton
distant, speaking earnestly in their own dialeet
which sounded harsh aaa. horrible to Mignwn
There seemed to be a division of opinion amon,
them, which was finally settled, as she judged,
by, the alterdd tones of their voices. The chief
came and looked at her attentively.

“ You wear,” he said, in English so broken
that we shall not attempt to give it verbatim,
“the garb of a princess of the Blackfoot. nin-
tion, but, your skin is pale. The Blackfoot and
the Crow are enemies ; they hate each othe:- -
they go to war and take scalps—they put their
prisoners to death. Pale faced woman, you
must die!”

“Do the wartiors of the Crow nation wage
war, against women?” asked Mignon, striving
to rally her courage. ©
oy They destroy their enemies,” returned the

ef.

“Enemies are those who take the war-path ;

the women of the pale-face nation never go
upon the war-path ; they love peace and re-
main at home.” — s :

“Then why art thou here?” said the chief,
quickly,

“Not to take life, but to save it,” Mignon
answered,

_., “Like all your cravemrace, you shrink from
, death.”

“And why should I not? Am I not young,

and does not the young heart cling to éxis-
jtence? Women die well when the Great Spirit
ate but they draw back ‘from ‘violence and

blood.” _

“The Great Spirit calls you now.”
~“T cannot hear him.”

“He calls you through my voice; he bide

“you get ready.”

pe

(te

-uees

perpen 2

'
t
i
t
i

 

 
  

52

   
  
    
  
   
  
    
   
  
    
    
   
   
  
  
   
  
  
   
 
    
  
 
 
   
   
   
  

“The Crows are cowards, or they would not
kill women; braye men hold such deéds in
horror,” rejoined Mignon.

“Pale maiden, it is better to die young than
old. If you go to the land of souls now, you
will remain young and beautiful forever; but
if you live till you are old and wrinkled, you
will enter that country as such, and continue
80.”

‘Hear me: I have a father who has much
gold; he has a trading-house beyond yonder
mountains, where he keeps the things most
valued by red men ; go there with me, and you
shall be made rich above all your tribe.”

The Indian paused a moment, as if meditating
apon what he had heard, and Mignon began to
hope. i

“ You shall have guns that never miss their
aim, ammunition to last your life-time, blan-
kets that defy the snows of the coldest winter,
and horses that are swifter than the antelope,
and stronger than the buffalo. “With these you
can make war upon the Blackfeet, and conquer
them.” ;

“ Pale-faces have artful tongues, and the red
man cannot tell when the speak the truth.
What you say sounds weil, But you might lead
us into the strong forts of the whites, where
we should. be slain by the thunder of the gréat
guns, [have listened to you too long. ‘The

‘ corn-spirit requires an offering, and he will
not be content save with a young and beauti-
ful maiden, such as thou art.” .

““Willthe manner of my death be painful ?”
Mignon, asked. F :

| White maiden, it will be painful, but’ not
of long duration,” said the Crow. ‘In the land
of souls you, will forget your sufferings, and re-
joice to see the corn growing green‘and tall to
feed our hungry children.” ,

“It is horrible!” exclaimed Mignon. ’.

“It is naught compared to the torture of
three days, when twelve fires are lighted, and
all the art of inflicting pain are exhausted,’” he
replied, his face glowing with savage ferocity
at the recollection of the scenes he had wit-
messed. i
. With these words he left her ‘ald Isited Ob
ders which she could notunderstand. Présesit-
sly ;ghe, was, placed upon, her horse, and: the
‘party set off toward thé mountains. ~ Mignon
turned a last, lingering look toward ‘the’ fil
whiere she had expected to find frieids and

Bafety. ot - ;

She submitted to her eaptors with the help-
less passiveness of despair, her, bowed head aud
aivonng form testifying to her deep despon-
§ nthe Indians did not address her, and the trail

‘to the nearest Crow Village was traced ‘silént-_
ly. Talihear, the ebief, kept-near, her person, ©

settiug an example of tagihurnity which was
afojlamed by bia wargiors. ee olf*
they pressed forward ” without stopping,
. oy

‘

REDPATH, THE AVENGER; OR,

though their progress was slow. The gloom
iest night that Mignon ever experienced ap
proached, and with it came clonds and a shower
of rain, attended with thunder and lightning.
Tallbear ordered a halt, watehing the heavens
with anxious expression. :

“The Great Spirit is angry,” said Mignon,
hoping to turn the elemental strife to her ad-
vantage.

“Yes,” answered the chief, “ he is angry be-
eause the sacrifice is delayed.”

“ Not so ; but for the reason that such a fear-
ful rite is contemplated. While rebuking your
wickedness with the thunder and lightning, he
at the same time gives you rain to refresh your
corn, and prove to you that he can make it
grow without your aid.”

At that instant there-was a terrific explosion,
and the red, quivering lightning played pround
them. Theground trembled with the violence
of the concussion. large tréé was sh vered
from its. topmost branches to the roots, while
an Indian who had been standing bener'th it
‘was stricken lifeless Tallbeat was awed  Tg-
norant of Nature and her’ laws, thunder and
lightning to him had supernatural’ origin, and
indicated the displeasure of the Master of Life.

« Behold,” cried Mignon} “ thé avengitg arm
of God! He has turned his hand against you ;
hé has smitten one of your braves: He is just,

“he does well; to him I commend my soul: Red
man, hear his awful voice ‘and’ tremble! His
mighty ear is rolling through the skies, and the
heavens quake.” He is over our héads—he is
seeing us—his fires are burning’in the air'with
dreadful véhemenve.”” : :

While Mignon was speaking, lambent flames
darting from above played ‘around her pale
cheeks. Tallbear recoiled, contemplating’ her

‘with pallid visage and parted lips. yu

“Pale-face woman, thou art a great iiedi-
¢ine !” he éxelaimed. Hi

“Tam,” she resumed, with’ more impressive
emphasis, “ but a perishable créaturé like thee,
but Ihave skill in interpreting the will of the
Great Spirit. I know’ what he desires of his
children ; and there is that within that tells me
when his power will go forth in fearful fury to

“rebuke blood-thirsty warriors, atid lay low @r-
rosant chieftiins.  Tallbéar, listen! the Master
Of Life’ threatens {)°“Héar his Stern menace ‘in

the affrighted heavens?” °°" i

"The maiden paused, and’ peal of peal shook
the wiovntains, while electrical’ flashes blazed
blendingly around theif’ stinimits, streaming
down itto the valley below in red-iot ‘chains.

- At 3s thus,” continued Mignon, with solem-

“sity, that the God of the white man and ‘the
red manifests his indignation afd his might!”
~ The braves threw themselves*prostraté upon

‘the earth, covering their éyés with their hands,

“'Palibéar only remained standing, he bowed*hia

~‘Head*ipon bis breast submissively.

"White woman, if the Master of Life is*an

  

 

 

 
 

THE FAIR HUNTRESS OF THE SOUTH-WEST... 58

, what shall Tallbear do to turn aside his
Wieicasties !" he asked.

“Twill ask him,” said Mignon, closing her
yes and crossing her arms upon her breast ;
ite reutinea silent a few moments, then ad-
dressing the chief: ats

“ The answer is (looking steadily at Tallbear),
offer no more bloody sacrifices to the corn-
apirit, for there is but one God that presides
over all things, and he is the Master of Life.”

“Inquire yet again, dnd ask him what I shall
do with the pale-face woman ?”

‘Mignon perceived that all depended on the
akilituiness ut ner reply ; she had reached thé
moat delicate and critical point of her purpose.
She ¢élosed’ her eyes, and ¢rossed her arms
again, to gain time to form a fitting answer.

“ Find a woman among your people who has
lost a daughter, and let her adopt the child of
the palé-face,” she said. ~

This reply was judicious, for the suspicions
of Tallhear might have been aroused, had she
demanded her liberty at once.

« ] will send for our medicine-men, and they
shall fast three days and see if the Great Spirit
will confirm this,” returned the Indian.

“The Master of Life speaks but once to man ;
he never repeats !” ‘exclaimed Mignon, with a
dignity and earnestness wondrous to Tallbear.

“That is well; he never repeats,” he said ;
then looking searchingly at his captive, added :

} ‘“« And he never denies!”

“And he never denies,” repeated Mignon, in
the same tone. ‘ But it becomes the awful
Deity to remain silent when he has once de-
elared his sovereign will to man.”

“Speak again to the Great Spirit and ask if
the prisoner will attempt to escape ?” Aan

Mignon saw at once the subtlety of this pro-
position. ents We

“Thave done,” she said; ‘his presence is
departiig—his chariot-wheels are rolling over
the mountains. Be contentand humble. Speak
to me no more—I am ‘dumb.” Mignon turned
her back to Tallbear, and assumed her former
silent and hopeless attitude. Tallbear walked
away, and seated himself apart from his braves,
apparently in a thoughtful mood.

n baifan hour the storm passed ; the rain
eased falling, the thunder was heard faintly
rumbling at a great distance, while the light-
ning blazed against the far-off sky with dimin-
ished brightness. See

The party went on again, and in two hours
drew in sight. of a Crow village, in view of
whioh they halted—it being their custom when
‘they had lost warriors not to enter therr village
on their return, without an invitation from the
friends of the slain. The dogs gave notice of
their, approach, and in a short.time the sleepy

‘Matives were astir, making suitable prepara-
tions to receive their warriors, who, after con-
siderable delay, were formally invited to enter
the town. Mignon, though an object of much

 

.

curiosity, was treated with respect. The tent
which the unfortunate Balaam had succeeded
in securing when his mistress Jeft Callard’s en-
campment, was ‘taken’ from ‘the’ horse, upon
which it had been carefully packed, and set up
for her exclusive use by Tallb-ar, who clearly
intended to treat her with distitiction until her
fate should be decided by the’ medicine-men.”

The latter were called together early in ¢¥
morning. The chief made them acquainted
with his original intention of sacrificing Mig-
non vo placate the corn-spirit, with what su
sequently occurred, during the storm of thun-
det, and his own determination to refer’ the
matter to those skilled 1m the waye of the in-
visible powers: © >> 1!

“ Now go,” he ‘added, ‘and have" lodges
built insome'lonely spot, and fast according to
gent custom, and thus learn the will of the

anito of your peoplé.” }

Whether it wasthat the « medicine-men” had
no relish for fasting three days, or whether
they“believed they had been already instructed?
we are not able to avow ; but they declared
that the Master of Life had enlightened their
minds ‘in dreams and visions; and aftera little
time, if left undisturbed, they would make:
known his wishes, The three medicine-men
accordingly withiirew to a lodge. which every
person was forbidden to’ approach. Presently}
Mignon heard the sound: of an ‘Indian: drum,
and frantic yells proceeding from’ the lodge,
and shuddered to think such wretches were to
decide her fate: They continued their. orgies
some hours—a period of dreadful anxiety to
Mignon, who, solitary in her tent, was await-
ing the conclusion of the rites.

Mignon’s father'was a Catholic; but she had
been educated im the Protestant religion,in hara
many with the views of het deeeased mother;
and she now sought the consclations of the
Christian faith. She petitioned God with that
contrite fervor that her condition was so well

calculated: to awaken, seeking that calm .

strength, that unshrinking fortitude, He only
can impart. rf ;

«Daughter of the pale-face, come!” said s
voice. ‘

It was Tallbéar who spoke; he had come to
conduct her to’ hear the verdict of the medicine
men. She found the Indians assembled on a
plateau near the village, in close neighborhood
to a large field ‘of corn. She followed with
modest and melancholy mien, her beauty and
grace attracting’ much attention and remark.
Thé medicine: men were in a circle, formed by
the principal men of the’village ; next the lat-
ter, were the braves; while the third and last
ring was composed of women and children—a
motley, clamorous rabble.

When’ Mignon reached the eentral cirele,
where the three prophets were awaiting her,
Tallbear addressed them: |

“What,” he asked, ‘says the Manito of the
Grow Nation 2”

rere fe ere nat

 

t

 

|

i

 

 

Py

mon nee
Ce eee ae ee re eager rena

 

 

 

  
   
 
    
     
  
 

54

, That the love of life is strong, and all wish
to live to enjoy summer, and sunshine.”

Mignon heard the rejoinder, and though she
had made up her mind. for the worst, hope: re-
vived a little .“‘Summer, and sunshine!”

hese, words hada meaning, they never before
possessed; She could not refrain from. raising
her, eyes toward the glorious luminary—the
eternal lamp of Nature. The refulgent beams
gleamed as brightly upon her ag in the days of
her, childhood, before she understood the mean-
ing of the word, “death,” A gentle breeze
from.the, West blew on her face and toyed with
her hair. ; frag ite Laine

“O God!” she exclaimed, “ why,can I not
enjoy, this forever,?: Why hast'thou placed the
grave before, mortals,and ealled them to a bap:
tism of pain???) ,

“ Go on,” said Tallbear.

« And ne, added, .moreover,”. resamed the
spokesman of),the medicine-men, “ that. he
speaketh in thander and fire; that he ereateth
all, things, and, causeth the Indian corn to
grow.” i

‘*T am saved!” thought Mignon. “God will
spare my youth !?

‘The prophet. went on:

‘But lest he might sometime forget the
cotn; he: has: given it: in)charge of a powerful
spirit, whose duty it isto watch over it night
apdiday:, The pale-+face woman has said) that
the» Master! of» Life, loveth not blood, but, it:
was the, God of therwhite! man. that told. her
80) ey g ,

Theres but one God!)said Mignon, who
saw her last hope passing away.

betiEbe ted man does not serve the God of the
pale-faces,” returned the prophet. . “Every
nation -has its deity; and no two are alike. We
follow the. voice of th Great, Spirit, and no
other will we hear: Behold what hehas given
ely Look-at; the boundless bunting-grounds,
the mighty plairse-the: shaded .valleys, the,
gieen forests) which he; has kindly: bestowed
ujon us. White woman, the Indian did: not,
make hitoself;, but oné:greatenthan, he ,»made
him, with all his instincts. Can his nature
ehange? 4,Can,he .be, other than, he is? Who
faults him..willoffend the great and,eterna], Mas-
ter, of; Life... See,.me—-regard me—study me!
Kam what Lam, not because [had any, voice
in) it, but, because & will stronger than,mine ex-
isting before-I, had consciousness, willed, it, so.
My face is red—my nature is, not, soft. and weak
like yours’; it,does not love cities and ;the arts
of, your people—it has joyin the hunt, and on
the war-path. And why? , Beeanuse it is so,
decyeed. I, am an, Indian, and I, thank the.
Great Spirit that I am! Thus, you,see,, the
Rower that. created; me, reconciles) me to be
what am, therefore, He. is wise. It is, so
with you. You will. aet true to your nature;
april I. shall to mine... The manners and customs
ef natione differ. Our ways seem barbarous to

REDPATH, THE

in a low tone.

AVENGER; OR,

you, and yours are contemptible to us. Pale
gil the eorn-spirit is thirsty, we will give him
rink.”

“ Lust night, the Great Spirit sent rain,” said
Mignon. { :

(‘ He drinks not water,” said the prophet.
~{ Oh, it is vain to struggle against fate !” ex.
claimed Mignon,

“Vain indeed!” added, the Indian, in a deep,
sepulehral. voice. ‘Could those. towerin
movntains haveeresisted the will that place
them,there fora, barrier, between us, and .the
sea? Could the snow have helped falling upon
their. summits? Could. you, tJ struggled,
against his hand when he took up the dust to
form you? Know, O fair danghter of a
hated race, that all things are ordered, and not
anything can change, 't being destined that
you shall die, how can mortal power make you
live? Cease,,to struggle, and meet calmly a
fate that you cannot, resist ; this is the lesson
taught by everything in Nature. Because you
are, a woman, and: your flesh is tender and
shrinks from pain; the Master of Life sends you
an easy death.” ;

The. prophet, made a sign to Tallbear, who
approached with a small cord; composed of the:
inner bark ofa tree. ;

For an instant, Mignon experienced a fearful
shrinking, and a sickening agony, of spirit; but
conquering measurably her weakness, she
looked at;the chief, and demanded, in a voiee
quite free from agitation: | . i

,{ What is the manner of my death?”

“Tt is quick and easy; an arrow will pierce
your bosom, and you will be in the spirit-land
of your fathers. before. one, of yonder, clouds
can ‘pass, over the sun’s face,” he replied. ©

“Tt is wellK—I am'ready ; but ‘do not muti-
late my person. Bury .my. body on, one. of
yonder high cliffs, where the same syn. that
shines upon the wigwam,of my father may.
shine on my ashes !” said Mignon, submissive-
ie '

Tallbear came.near to bind her hands,

“Take away the cord; since there is to be
no torture, no protracted agony, to bind me
were useless. Tell me where to stand, and I
will present my breast to your marksman.”

‘« Pale girl, you have conrage,” said Tallbear,
“T would save you if I could,
for your voice has a wondrous melody in it,
and your, beauty, is like that of the spirit-
maidens in the far land of souls. Maiden, the
arrow that enters-your bosom will give pain to
the heart of Tallbear, But the Great Spirit ia
wise. It is better that you should be taker
from my sight.” 1 ;

Then, in a louder voice ; ;

“Daughter of the Longknives, we ‘will not
send you,unprovided to the land of Shadows,

our horses shall go with, and your beautiful
odge, that you may have a horse to ride, ant
a lodge to dwell in.”

 

  

 
 

 

THE FAIR HUNTRESS OF THK SOULH-WHS. 5

Tallbear waved, his hand, and; the circling
\ ede of warriors, women, and children open-
%. before him.

» Look!’ said he, pointing through the nar-
tow lane thus made, * yonder are your horses,
and your lodge has been taken down and
packed, upon, them. When you. reach. the
sountry vf spirits, you, will not have long -to
wait for your. horses ; you, will find everything
as it was in this world, and the black man
with the strong arms will be there to attend
you; he is waiting you mow; when,.he sees
your large horse, he will, hasten to" prepare
him for your use, and he willhang your little
rifle at, the saddle, if. you should want to hunt
the deer.” ;

Mignon saw the,animals at a short distance,
prepared as for a journey., The one she usual-
ly. rode, seeing his. mistress, erected his, ears,
and neighed—a, proof of affection. which, called
tears: to her eyes. With a parting) glance at
themoble ereature that. had borne, her uncom-
Plainingly so many miles. she submitted herself
to the commands of Tallbear.

“ Place.ame quickly; and,let it. be.soon over,”
she said. ¥

nko chief led: her to the, centre of the ecir-

Cla... i,
“This ie the spot. Here is a bandage to
evver your eyes Your heart isnot big enough
tuseethe bow, bent and, the arrow pointed;
You will.shrink and run away, or swoon with
thrror.”

‘“Towill dooneither; since. it is my duty to
je, I will die as becomes the daughter of the
great pale-face nation.’

: There was:a general. murmur. of approba-
on: ‘ f
o It is good,” said Tallbear

Then, in a whisper j

‘Never ‘had the corn-: pirit a more beautiful
olfering, Your eyesyare like those of the deer
When the huntar’s' knife is at its throat, hang
ing over its small-neck. Pale girl, you have
powerovér Tallbeat!” !

The Indian gazed moment at Mignon: with’

& softened expression—bis strong hand trém~

bled while placing lier in thé attitude deemed

fitting—and more than once he hesitated: and
looked. at: the horses ;“some haif-formed)'pur-
pose appeared to ayitate bim. ]

“Maiden, be, frrm—the way to the land of
souls.is toward the West, and your swift horses
Will fly like, birds along the path.”

With a heavy breath, much like a sigh,of re-
gret the chief left, Mignon, who, stood, with
er face }toward,,the open space in the, ¢irele,;
he ribbon or scarf of high-colored stuff which
eovered the upper portion of her person, | was

Buffered to fall.a little upon the left side, while

over the breast shepiaced the gift of, Raven-

claw—a raven wrought in beads, )

“Let. your. bowman aim at this; my heart
is'beneath it,” she! said, with a calmness that

 

surprised the grim warriors, and raised an-
other hum of admiration.

A sinewy Indian walked through the living
avenue, and appeared at) the margin of the se-
cond eircle: He carried a long-bow., in his
right hand, which, when held vertically beside

him, with one end. resting upon, the .ground,,
reached higher than his. head. His, quiver.
slung over his bare and brawny. shoulder, con;,,

tained, but a single arrow, pointed with bone.
He came with a lithe and dignified step, and.
stopping at the proper spot, stood erect before,
Mignon a few yards distant.. She heard. his»
coming, and there was a quickened motion, of
the snowy. globe which was'to be his mark.
He glanced inquiringly at Tallbear, the latter
saw him not; with folded arms, gompressed.

lips, and heaving chest, he was looking at,

Mignon, ,., Tle red archer remained motionless ;
suddenly Tallbear turned toward him ; his face
was flushed, there were beads of perspiration
on his forehead ; ,he made a hasty gesture to
the Indian, who was waiting his orders ; he
took;the arrow from the quiver, and fitted it te.
the string, Mignon stirred not, trembled not,
though conscious of the moyement. The
archer paused with the shaft leveled at the fig-
ure of the raven upon Mignon’s breast; he;
waited another signal when he would bend the,
tough, fibres of the sturdy wood, and launch:
the, arrow, like lightning at the fairest mark,
man eyer aimed at. Tallbear was in the act
of giving that signal, and the Indian was about,
to let fly his fatal shaft when a bright object
gleamed, momentarily in the air, and he fell
forward upon his face, Immediately, before a
warrior had moved, a grim and terrible figure
bounded into the eincle ; his skull was bare to

,, the bone, his, face black and streaked with

blood; a savage fury and determinatiom marked
his motions. _He caught Mignon in his arms,
and, with such, a look as the lion casts upon
those who kill her young, bore her from the
ring. No one spoke, not a hand grasped a
knife, gun, or tomahawk—all tongues: were
mute, every warrior paralyzed, Mignon was
lifted to the back of her favorite horse; the
reins were given her—she grasped them—she
felt, herself in rapid flight, and one who seemed
to her. bewildered, fancy lize Balaam, was st
her side. %

4
i
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ee

_sreweneneeaaemtes

 
   
  
  
    
 
  
 
 
   
    
   
   
   
 
 
    
   
  
  
   
  
   
  
  
  
  
  
   
     

 

OHAPTER XI.
“NEW ADVENTURES IN THE CANON.

Balaam, it’ will be remembered, was stunned
by a hatchet, hurled effectively at his head by
a warrior; losing his seat, he finally sank ex-
hausted ‘beneath repeated wounds. He re-
mained insensible 4 long time.” The first pre-
monition of returning’ life was a conseiousness
of'pain. He became ‘sensible, at last, of some
kind of an existénce, without the ability to
connect the past with the present, or to know
where the thread of outer life had been broken.
His head glowing with a fiery heat, his eyes
drowned in an abyss of darkness, his ‘stiffened
tongue, his throat hot and dry, a dull, weary
motion of the heart, made him conscious of
misery only, without awakening individual
identity. "

But Balaam‘s vital’ powers were strong, and
able to resist much suffering ; they prevailed, |

‘at length, over wounds and bruises restored

sight to bis swimming vision, and ‘activity to
his brain. “He raised his head from thé ground 5”
the red beams of the’sun, then at its meridian,
glowing into his face, extinguished, for an in-
stant, his newly-réestored sight.
Presently he arose to his feet, he saw one of
Mignon’s gloves lying near him, and it quick-
enéd at once the sluggish current of memorv.
The thought of Mignon in danger absorbed
him wholly, to the utter exelusion of himself,
his wounds, and his wretched condition. He
quenched his burning’ thirst at the nearest
stream, and then took the trail of the savages,
with the eagerness of a hound that seenta his
rey. His iron frame disdained’ its’ wounds,
and his fesolute soul, with ‘the undying faith-
fulness of the dog, scorned physical pain and
the gnawings of hunger. Fortunately for him,
most of his hurts were not of a very dangerous
character, the blow upon his head, with the
loss of his sealp, being the most serious ; though
his arms and body were much hacked and sear-
red by knives and other weapons. an
Defying all obstacles, Balaam tracked the
red robbers who had wrested away his precious
charge, determined to save her or share her
fate. In what manner he was to deliver her,
he did not know, or even ask himself—so en-
tirely were his still disordered faculties oceu-
in the idea of pursuit. He reached the
ndian town at the moment when Mignon’s
fate seemed decided. He was going to throw -
himself upon the Indian with the bow, and
érush him withbis giantstrength, when a gleam-
ing shaft passed him like lightning, and the
tawny archer fell, stricken through the brain
with a steel-headed arrow. We have related
what then occurred. The Indians, after the
rescue of Mignon, teok up the lead body of
the warrior, and retired in silence to their vil-
lage. It was to them evident that the Great
Spirit was not pleased with what they had
proposed. ;

 

REDPATH, THE AVENGER ; ‘OR,

Mignon ard Balaam had not proceéféd far,
before they discovered a party of men. advane.
ing, that proved to be Captain Brion, Buckeye,
anda select number of hardy mountaineers
This sudden meeting, together with the singus
lar piight of the black, excited both ‘inquiry
and surprise; and the latter gave place te
gratittide, when the startling experiences of
Migaon and the negro had been properly set
forth. * No one, however, not excepting Ba-
laam, was more thankful than the partisan,
for the wonderful eseape’of Mignon. The re-
vulsion of feeling was'so great with her, when
she fully réalized that she waa snatched from
death, and was safe with friends, that she lost
her consciousness. Brion being the first’ to!’
observe that she was fainting, caught her in
his arms, thus timely preventing a fall from
her horse. “Balaam, too, now that the excite~
ment was over, felt the need of attention, and
the poor fellow was immediately attended to—
his wounds dressed, ‘his bravery praised, ‘his
fidelity lauded. The purifying and cooliag
effects of water, and the comforting nature of
brandy, were speedily tested, in his ease, with
the most happy effects. Hearty food was not" —
allowed him, but he was permitted to'swalliw
a portion of a biscuit with his arguarden te»
when his'vivacity being measurably: restord,
he was able to utter several pleasantries atthe?
expense of his scalpless cranium. The! neces»!
sary sanatory operations having been attendedy
to, the mountaineers resumed their way toward
the canon, in which the band had»eneaniped
the previous day. The partisan placed him»
self near Mignon, oceasionally asking questions
concerning her eapture, referring “to his own
anzivty, and detailing the efforts he had made
to find her. The account of her reseue was to
him intensely interesting. There was sorde-
thing perfectly incomprehensible in that trans-
action. ‘The idea, of the mysterious Redpath
was again evoked ; how could it be otherwise ?
Had not the evidence of his presence been in
dubitahle ? Unquestionably, yes! There had;
been adeath fromsan arrow in a mannerthat
he had himself witnessed. é

“ Mademoiselle Bellmar,” he said, “it would’
appear that you owe your escape to ‘the inter-
position of that ever-present creature, Red-
path?”

“My mind has been in such a world of ex-
citement and confusion since’ my unexpected:
escape, that [have not yet reflected ealmlyy
but that I am indebted to Redpath, seems an
inevitablé conclusion—a conviction that forces
itselfupon me spontaneously without’ the trous
ble of reasoning,” she replied:

“Tt would interest me to know what your
ideas’ may’ be concerning this siugular person
age, who has a marvellous power of ubiquity,
certainly,” Brion added. ‘

Mignon paused to raily her thoughts.

“ Hitherto,” she answered, “ my eonceptions

 
 

 

: .
THE FALK HUNTRESS

of him: have been quite untinged with romanee,
and practical to the last degree. I pictured
hit, brave Brion, a wily savage, gifted with a
power of eunning remarkable, even for his race,
andactuated by the strongest feélings of vin-
distiveness. Fired’ with undying enmity,
atrengthened with unnatural hate, endowed
with dauntless courage, and aided by that fox-
like cunning, he has been able’to cover his
movenients with niystery, and make his ‘name
a@ word Of terror.” 5 ‘

“Those were your former views; now your
present opinion, if you please ?”

““ My thoughts, at this moment, are so un-
like what they ‘were, 'that I shall doubtless ex-
cife a smile wponyour lips, Captain Brion.
Redpath is more like the’ eagle than ‘the
raven!”

“ Brion’s eyes rested upon the figure of the
raven upon’Mipnon’s breast, at that moment,
and he said, with a smile:

“ But you give the preference to the raven,
it would seem ?”

Mignon’s cheeks’assumed a deeper red:

Yes, Pwear'the raven, but Ishall attempt
to impose on my imagination, and think it an
eagle;”\she replied.‘ Redpath, as I said, is
more like the eagle than the ‘raven. He has
eyes that are bold and piercing, that dare the:
sun to dazzle them. He has a front like the
godof war. His features are noble, his man-
ners lofty and proud. ’ Redpath is tall and
stately as the cedars of Lebanon. With other
men, he is like Saul among the prophets. His’
tread is firm and fearless: He speaks but lit-
tle, and his words ‘are commands.’ He reads
the destiny of the red man; he sees the com-
ing supremacy of the white, and the destiny
of the Indian.’ He knows that the way of his

. people is over the mountains, and toward the
sea—and toward oblivion. The thought of
the extinction of a great nation like his, through
the injustice of the pale-faces, maddens him ;
his*noble soul swells with emotions inéxpressi-
bleand he invokes the vengeance of the great
and awful Master‘of Life”

While Migaon was thus describing Redpath,
she stopped near a swamp of musquite, and
Brion fhmaoetied to adjust her saddle-girth.

**Dideyou not hear a sound ?” heasked, turn-
ing toward the musquite.

‘Mignon was'already looking in that diree-
tion. She replied, with some embarrassment :

“A slight disturbance among the leaves,
Oecasioned, I imagine, by yonder prairie-dog,
which our voices frightened from his shelter.”

But Mignon; in this instance, was not quits
mgenuous; she had seen, while Brion was ems
ployed with the girth, and at the instant ¢ne
was finishing hor deseription, the tall form of
Ravenclaw. He stood in the musquite im an
Attentive attitude, as if listening to the tones of
her voices: He east upon her a look of mingled

melansholy! and™pride, and she saw him no
more : ‘

 

OF THE SOUTH-WEST. i 57

“ Ah!’ quoth Brion, rather drily,“ you make
a hero of Redpath.”

_ “But what can you expect, my friend, from
a giddy. girl, who owes her life to this same
personage?”

“ Oh!” thought the partisan, “it should have
been I who saved this charming woman!”

“You have painted him with the colors of
the novelist ; but I will not cavil, inasmuch as,
he deseryes unmeasured commendation for
what he has done. Redpath, in this, has done
me a good service, also,” Brien answered.

‘*TIn what manner has he been of service to
you, Captain Brion ?”

‘Had you suffered the fate intended for you;
Ishould never cease to reproach myself,” said:
the mountaineer. ‘ )

“ Ard why ?”

“For the simple reason, that I did not’ care
for you betterafter you put yourself under my
protection; it was in me, criminal neglect, for
which I most earnestly ask your pardon.”

“TI cannot absolve you from a sin which: you
never incurred... Please. to. remember, that I
positively refused. your escort. to the camp ;
therefore, if blame there be, it necessarily falls
on me.” at

“T see well where my error was, and even
your ingenuous kindness cannot make me for-
get it. From this hour it shall be my special
prerogative to attend to your safety ; itishall be
the first, the greatest, the last.of my duties, so
long as’ you shall think proper to honor me
with your presence and confidence,”

““Thauks—thanks! You will well discharge
the self-imposed duty ; but let me entreat you
not to neglect more important matters for the
sake of a truant maiden, whose erratic wander-
ings expose her to the charge of female quixot
ism ”

“Chastisement to him who has the presump-
tion to make that or any other charge of a res
proachful character !” exelaimed Brion, with a
menacing motion of the hand,
couples your name with aught that is unbe-
coming, shall feel the anger of Ben Brion !”

“And that,” said Buckeye, who now joined
the parties, “ is no slight thing, accordin’ to my
views of humau natur.” wt-apthd

“I trust my humble name will not give rise
to aught unpleasant,” said Mignon, with height-
ened color. ‘

“Your name, miss,” quoth Buckeye, “shall
be the watchword of the camp. By the beard
of Joe Smith! them as hasn’t no partic’lar re:
ligion ’mong.us, shall pray: to you!”

“T fear I shall prove a poor, dumb divinity,”
returned Mignon, laughing.

“T sh'n’t put up my petitions toi nobody
else!’’ rejoiaed Buckeye. ‘‘ When I feel like

 worshippin’, I want somethin’ I oan see.” . |

“ You are a materialist,” said Brion.

“T should be a good Christian, I reckon, if I
allers had somethin’ lovely in the ywoman-like

\

“He who |

 

i
;

 

 

 

a
  

 
 
 
  
  
 
 
  
   

 

> et

‘bdut me ; it softens the rough side of my na-

sur—the nor’west mountainous side, which: has:

allers been uncultivated and neglected.”

ss Will you be good enough, Buckeye, to re-
peat me one of the prayers you intend to make
wee of?” requested’ the mountaineer.

“Well, cap’n, it would be oneommon like
the oné:D heard you sayin’ in your sleep, not
long ago.”

«* You' are talking at random!” protested
Brion. palpably disconcerted.

“ There's two things I neverdo—I mean talk
atrandom or shoot at random. But as to the

rayer, it should commence somewhat in this

hion: ‘ O Mignon, a rude old sinner entreats:

you never to leave him, that there may, be
somethin’ lovely and good allers near to apol-
ogize for the rest of human natur.’”
“Not so bad,” said: Brion. y
“Come; sir, desist!” interposed the divinity
of this prayer.’ Then to Buckeye: “‘ I: trust
that you mean me well, and intend no disre-
ect.
! “TT tean you any otherwise than well, ma
I be sealped !” cried Buckeye, bluntly. t
*/« 7 an vottelt for his goodness of heart, Miss
Bellmar. He has given himself not a mo-
ment’s rest since vour disappearance, and look-

ed forthe trail of your captors as earnestly ag .

iftyow bad been his. own child.”

“There’s a heap of malice in ye, eap’n! I
ain't old enough to be the girl’s father, no
ways, and the innooendo isn’t altogether friend-
ly,” replied the trapper, gravely.
o'4Oh, 1 am sure you | are not. old,” added
Mignon, I
oc Sattinly not. Here’s Flash ; T'll leave it
to Flash ;:and Flash has known me long’n any
of ye: Come, Flash, whatido you say ?”’

“It's well for you he can’t speak,” said the
artisan, good-humoredly. “A strangé’ tale
e’d be telling!” 10}

“Do you hear him, miss? He’s aféard
. shall beedine a favorite'with you, as I shall, if
Flive long enough.” . P aleare

“To have ‘you in much favor, now,” replied

Miss Belintar, playfully.
© In pleasant conversation the parties beguiled
the tedium of the returning trail. _ By the mid-
die’ of the afternoon, they were within a few
miles of the canon.
_ Life seemed more Lape a to Mignon than
at any previous period of her existence. The
siin, the skies, the earth, presented new attrac-
tions and beauties hitherto unappreciated. She
marveled that she had ever beheld them with
feelings of indifference. ;

“ Glorious world {’ she mentally exclaimed,
1 shall not yet leave thee: ft shall dwell
with and in thee, and experience for many

ears, perchance, tlie munificence of provident
fature.”

Hearing worde of salutation from Buckeye,
ahe looked up, and perceived that two persons,

   

°

REDPATH, THE AVENGER; OR,

on horseback, had jomed.the party.

“Ah! said, Brion, who kept his place; at
her side, “here isan addition;to our. num-
bers.” “ ;

“And you will do well to be on your guard.
One of those approaching is the special, instrus
ment, of Mariot—a half-breed, whose name, is
Gardette, generally, known, I believe, by hia
Indian name; of Beavertaker; while the other
is no less a) personage, than Captain Callard,
the partisan of a band of trappers,” said Migs
Ron. ' :

“T know them, madempiselle.... That, Provi-
dence which reaches to the, wilderness, and be-
yond, those mighty mountains even, has made
me acquainted with those now advance, bg,” res
turned the mountaineer...) 9

‘Whatever may be the nature and design of
their, visit, I:trust you will remember, captain,
that. I, am under ,your protection,”, Mignon,
added, with considerable agitation of manner.

“T certainly will,not, forget, a circumstance
affording me so much pleasure.” ,

“T need, not. admonish you to be firm.’:

“Tn your eanse sugh admonition.is unneces-
sary. Bot here they are." 0 yc ert of

“ Captain, Briony J beliewe?”?. said, Callard,.
addressing the, mountaineer. [

“Tam thus called,” said, the latter. 4

‘“L think we met many years|ego,” resumed, —
the former; ‘‘ but this precarious life of oura,
changes the human face, you know ?”

‘« The extremes of heat and cold, hunger and,
thirst, and hardship, all set, their) mark upon
the features,” Brion answered. ;

During the time, this, reioinder; oceupied,
Callard was.looking furtively at Mignon, ;

“But,” added. Brion, “ though exposure and
suffering may, roughen the features, 1 trust it
will never change the heart of an-honest traps

er? ‘ ‘
: “No, assuredly ; at least I hope not, in your
case,” returned Callard, vl

“T believe I have a.clear ¢onscienee. I have
tried to make it my study to/act, the man of
honor. Now, will you be kind enough to ‘in-
form, me to what lucky chance I.owe the honor
Of; this visit ?””

Diseoncerted by the suddenness, of this re+
quest, Callard exhibited much embarrassment.

-** What I have to say; Captain Brion, is, pros
bably, more proper for your private ear,” she
rejoined. leon

“Tf there is aught in your message to make
alady blush, I do not wish to: hear-it...The
1 woman that yousee near. me may safely

e made, the repository of the most important
secret that can be intrusted to. human keep,
ing."t>
“ But if the subject to be discussed concerns

this. young, lady herself, you perceive that 16

may alter the case.” j
“Not at all! Speak what, you have been
commissioned to at once, and im her hearing,

 
 

THE FAIR HUNTREHSS OF 1HE SOUTH-WEST. . 59

If it concerns her, why, then, she is the party.
most) interested, and: has a right. to be pre-
sent!” ‘

“Ji will throw asidé disguise: at once,” said
Callard. . “This lady: is Mademoiselle Bellmar,
who left 'the roof of heraged father in the garb
fa youthful adventurer; andejoined company;
with me at Fort Leavenworth. The fact, of
her sex having: transpired, she’ clandestinely
left my eneampment.”

“Had she not a right to do so ?”

“Under ordinary circumstances. she hadi ail
andoubted «right to. goverm: her; own" moves
ments; but this, you will readily apprehend, was
@ peculiar case. It was my duty; as well: as
my design, to send her back to her father:an-
der a safe escort. It was am unwillingness to
return, that unquestionably induced” her ‘to
Withdraw from my protection.”

“You cannot imagine that Miss Bellmar has
wot a will or purpose of herown ?”

* Gertainly ;-she bas‘too much will, and:as

-t her purpose, I will not:'wound her delicacy
referring to it,” ;
“Nor need you ; I know it already.”

“Phat she entered on this wild enterprise to
be near her lover, may be admitted, without
eompromising “her womanly ’ instixexs; but
there is no accounting for that eaprice that in-
ducéd her to fly from him, when, to’ albhuman
appearance, it was quite unneedfal.” :

“With delicate questions’ of thie nature, it
ill becomes! you and I to meddle. She will
hetself regulate her speech and eonduet in re-
gerd to such matters.” e

'* Allow the chivalrous captain to proceed;
he has’ learned well his' lesson,” said Mignon,
With disdainful éalmness.

“T insist that there was nothing unmaidenly
in her conduet, when it is considered that she
has from her infaney been engaged to Monsieur
Mariot, and her marriage was arranged to take
place imniediately after his return from his
present expedition.” :

“You are not! only ingenious’ but imgenu-
ous!” exclaimed Mignon, while the’ blood
moutited indignantly to her cheeks. “* What

OW intimate is basé and false. Pierre’ Mariot

thé most contemptible of men!” ati

“He is your father’s partner; tiademoi
pelle}? : : ;
“Ty his regret and mine.” "9s —

“T will not cavil, but come to the’ point. My
Present ‘purpose is to conduét the daughterof
my employer back to my camp.” Hn

“She will act he*pleasure,” added Brion

“J shall remain where Tam. And I'com-
mission you to assuré Pierre Mariot of my un-
sieddutel séorn,” said Mignon.

“Incase of your refusal, Pam charged to

act against your wishes—for your own good.” «|

-, “ That means to capture my person, and take
@e to Piérre Mariot by brute strength?”
“It implies some degree of force, of course,

 

Miss. Bellmar—whieh rudeness I hope you will
attribute solely, to. zeal for your happiness.
This sudden aversion, believe me, will soon
give'place to your former feelings. Do me the
honor to.accompany,.me 2” *

“Captain Brion,” said Mignon, “I-have no .

more}to.say to this man. To you I commit
the guardianship of my person.”

‘The captain. hastoo,much sense, young
lady, to meddle with an affair that does not
concern him, but rather tends to disconcert his
pians for the commencing eampaign,” Callard
answered, with increasing confidence,

“ Ah,’ we shall see,” quoth Brion.

‘s Beavertaker, this,way!” said Callard, eall-
ing tothe half-breed, who was in the rear @
= paces. “Take the lady's horse by the bri-

e@\"?

» Back, you seoundrel!” eried Brion. “ Cap-
tain Callard, begone!.. 1;,cannot longer keep
down my indignation!, Your ingolence is past
ali,patience!” 6

“You have heard my instructions, Captain
Brion. She refuses to.¢0—I, must, take her.”

_ “You wiil take my life first |” retorted Brion,
in @ resolute tone. ; .

Beavertaker attempted to pass him to reach
the side of Mignon,.when the excited partisan,
rising in his stirrups, unhorsed. him ina, moment,
of time. )

‘By the, beard,.of, the, prophet Smith! If
there’s fightin’.to ‘be dene, I go in for. it!”
shouted Buckeye, galloping Flash to the spot.
“Let. me strike this; bere feller, eap'nj”

Before, Brion could grant. or refuse the boon
asked, the trapper pressed hard against Callard,
and. gave him.@ most ungentle push with the
muzzle.of his rifle. ‘

‘‘Forbear !?! cried Brion...‘ Let there be no
quarrel with him.”,,

The captain, meantime, drew a pistol, and
Buckeye grasped his wrist to take it from him,
when it'was accidentally discharged wounding
him (Buckeye) slightly in the arm... The balk
peed so neat Mignon that it grazed her neck,

ut happily did her no harm.

“Captain Callard, a struggle with us will be
useléss, and»ean but) result in injury to-yourself.
Go at once, and think no more of the’ projects
of Pierre Mariot,” added Brion! «

“Go yonder with me, sir, and I will settle
this matter with you, with the bowie-knife or
the rifle,’ returned Cailard, thrusting the
empty pistol into the holsters.

“Captain Brion, if you have any regard to
my wishés, do not listen to such a brutal pro
posal!” said Mignon, earnestly,

“T have no cause.of quarrel with you, and
therefore decline your offer!” said the partir
san. t
“That is a manly answer,” asserted Mignon,

encouragingly. f
“Had Pierre Mariot given me such a chak
lenge, I would not have refused him satisfac:
 

 

   
  
  
   
  
 
 
 
 

Pe ee anne See

60

tion; but I have no wisn to slay a man with
whom, until this hour, I never exchanged a
dozen words, and who, to my knowledge, never
injured me.”

“As you will,” returned Callard, ‘choking
down his anger. “I am only earrying out the

« wishes of my employer, urged on by the hope
of restcring this fair’ lady to the arms of her
father.” i

“She chooses to return under safer escort
than Mariot’s, and this affeeted zeal is not in
keeping with your conduct As long as Miss
Bellmar chooses to remain under my protee-
tion, no power on earth shall restrain her in-
elinations.” ;

“One would be disposed to think that the
days of knight-errantry are’ reviving ; but this
foolish obstinacy:on your part may be produc-
tive of serious results. Since you will not lis-
ten to reason, I must leave you, and rest the
termination of the matter with Mariot, I think,
captain, you will hear from this affair again,
and in a manner at variance with your interest
and wishes.”’

Callard rode ‘away in bad humor, followed by
the half-breed.

“ That man means to be dangerous,” remark-
ed Buckeye. , f

“If he suffers himself to. be led by Mariot,
yes,” Brion replied. i

At that moment a man came to tell the par-
tisan that Balaam was overcome with sleep,
fatigue, and exhaustion; and was in danger of
falling from his horse. The mountaineer in-
atantly ogdered a ‘halt, and the black being dis-
nl of in a comfortable position, slept heavi-

ty till dark.” 4

Brion ‘had given orders to forward again,.
when a firing was heard in the direction of the
eanon. Mignon was the first to mark the
sound, and looked inquiringly at thevecaptain.
The latter was assisting her to the saddle ;
when she was seated, he enjoined silence, and

oing to a small knoll, turred his practiced ear
in’the direetion of the ominous. disturbance.
There ‘was a heavy volley, and then a dropping
fire, whieh continued. Brion came back in 4
few minutes.

3 The Indians have attacked our camp,” he
eaid.

Buckeye and the whole party confirmed his
opinion.

“Yes,” asserted the former, “the heathen
riptiles are at their old tricks agin. Many and
many a time have | heard that kind of firing,
when the oncivilized buffalo-eaters were astir,
They'll never be content and mind their busi-
ness as long’s there’s a hoss tosteal, or a white
trapper’s camp to plunder. I allers go in for
a scrimmage when they make themseives too
free in that way. Flash is great in a runnin’
fight, but not quite so handy in a reg’lar bush
tussle, where the red niggers skulk from tree
to tree.”

6

 

KRHDPATH, THE AVENGER; OR.

about a venerable relative “who had no wo
on the top of his head, in the place where the
wool ought to grow.”

‘-That’sa game eretur,” continued Buckeye.
“Nothin’ seems to break him down, though
one might nat’rally think that the loss of his
ne deg 6 is a solemeolly affair, calkillated te
eheck.a happy flow of sperits.”

‘Go on in dat strain, Buff loeye,” quoth Ba-
laam, with an exhibition of ivory,

“You hear that firin’, don’t. ye, Billem
Well, the ingins:have come back arter the rest
of your scalp,” said Saget in a bantering
tone. i

“@o’long, Bullseye!: don’t spose yer limited
edication!”’ retorted Balaam. i

‘The firing: continues, and grows more
spirited,” said the partisan.

“How are we to reach the eamp ?” inquired
one of the trappers.

“That is yeb:to: be determined, and.an un-
dertaking which may be attended with danger.
If our friends are surrounded by Blackfeet, g
certainly will not be easy to'get to them. It
possible, however, that the attack may be con-
fined to one side, in which case we can join
our comrades without, much . difficulty... The
real state of .affaire must, be learned by one ex- _
perienced. in wooderatt, while the rest remain
at a prudent distance until the thing is settled.
If practicable, we will go to the camp, if not,
we must, be governed by circumstances.”

“That's advised like an old. mountaineer,
eap’n,” said Buckeye...‘ A better arrangement
couldn’t be made, considerin’ the cireumstan-
ces. There bein’ a woman with us, that, wo-
man must be pertected, cost what it may. If
there was none but masculines ’mong us, why
we might eut our way to camp through a host
of yaller Ingins; but, as I have said, it isn’t
so; there’s one here that must be defended to
the last,”

“We will. proceed to the timber yonder,
which is near the canon, where I will leave you
in. charge, of the men, for the protection of
Mademoiselle Bellmar, while I reconnoitre the

 Balaam approached, much revreshed, singing

, condition of the camp. .. Judging by the eontin-

uous fire, there is a determined conflict going
on, with the advantage of numbers on the side
of the enemy.”

The partisan, having given other premoni-
tory instructions, set.forward, on. foot, for the
scene of the fight, while his little, band. of
trappers, with Mignon, ,took shelter, in the
timber. }

Brion approached the canon by the most ob-
scure way, covered by pinon and cottonwood.
He pushed warily on, until he was enabled to
command @ tolerably good view of the spot,;
or more properiy a position where, in broad
daylight, he could have . looked, upon | its
entire length ; but darkness now hung over the
cliffs, relieved by the flashes of fire-arms only,

  

 
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THE FAIR HUNTRESS OF THH SOUTH-WEST. 6i

38 the ‘Indians fired down from their hiding-
places at the trappers below, and the latter re-
plied by, the sharp crack of their rifles. The

mountaineer pereeived that the attacking par- —

ty was large, for the sides of the canon were
occupied in every accessible place, a blaze
Jeaping from every projecting ledge and rock,
fom ever yeleft and hole. P :
Entering the éanon, Brion made such a dis-
position of the trappers as at length repelled
the ‘attack ‘of the assailants, after a most obsti-
nate résistance. “Having restored comparative
quiet, be set out on his return to the timber,
where hd had Jef’ Mignon when he went to
reconnoijtre the camp. Hé had passed the most
perilous portion of the canon, when an Indian
suddenly rose from behinda ré¢k, with uprais-
“ed tomahawk. ‘With sudden presence of mind
Brion parried the descending weapen, afd
dashed his gun against the Indian’s head, and
brought him to the ground. He felt for his
hatchet, but a feeling of merey prompted him
to hesitate. He gazed in the grim face of the
Warrior a momént, and slowly taking his foot
from his breast, said gently :
“ Arise! Teould have taken your life; but I
will not. Depart in peace !” ;

“The Indian arose, walked a few paces, and ”
i hy ‘éd Mignon.

‘harninig, said! *

“Son of the Yan-kee, Blackbird will not for- '

“get this. "Thei moving silently along thé ¢anon
he said, “ Sén of the Yan-kee, adieu.’

_ When Brion had nearly reached the’timber,

shouts and pistol-shots fellon hisear. Quicken-
ing his speed, he soon saw a confused mass of
human figures, fighting hand to hand, and Mig-
non surrounded by a circle of trappers defend-
ing her with desperate courage against formida-
ble numbera ‘of Indians. With dauntléss daring
he made his way amoug thém, and forded ‘the
enemy to yield wherever hé appeared, and the
finally left the field. The little party mounted,
and galloped towards ‘the canon, which they
entered soon after the toon had arisen. “But
the Indians gathering’ in the cliffs above the
‘ettion, threatened by their numbers’ to over-
whelm'them, Brion sought'a place of greater
_Seeurity where he might place Mignon, while
“the otiier trappers Were enizaged in repelling a
“new attack, andthe partisan’ found “hinjself
alone with her. © ays be

Being thus thrown togetlier, every moment
was freighted with interest. The partisan
eared not to speak much ; he was better con-
tent to gaze silently at Mignon, whose features
n the soit moonlight reflected a spiritual beauty.

“Hes not the firing ceased ?” she asked.

“Tn the canon, yes,” said Brion; “ but when
the moon is higher, it will be resumed again,
unquestionably.” t

“Be patient with me, my friend, but I believe
my physical powers are quite exhausted.”

“ Nor is it singular that such should be the
po You have passed through extraordinary

ials.”

“T think you will have to assist'mefrom my
horse. It appears to me that I am losing my
consciousness.”

The partisan sprang from his saddle, and tak.
ing Mignon in his ‘arms, placed her tenderly
upon a grassy knoll. : ,

“My mouth’is burnitig with thirst: Do I not
hear the running of a stream ?” she ‘said, lan-
guidly. The mountaineer took a drinking éup
from the leathern wallet or valisé at his saddle,
and hastened to look forthe rivulet whose bab-
bling was audible. He caine back with ‘water,
and Mignon drank. A

“Thanks, thanks! How kind is “Nature te
supply our wants. ~ What so’grateful as this
pure beverage to the’ parthed ‘lips ?”’*she re-

“marked, returning the ew.

Brion made no“answer, but‘held up biehand
warningly. The spot where the parties were
Treating was a glade near the northern "entrance
of the canon. On that'side nextthe eanon the
tress were sparse and ef small growth; but
the prairie-grass was high, and thé shrubbery
thick. i 2 ‘
“Yonder,” said Brion, “TI see the grass in
motion, as if # large body of savages were ereep-
ing through it.” ,

“ Heaven keep us from their fury !” exelaim-

““So let us'trust!” 4

The mountaineer looked around, to sée° if
some of his party were notin sight, bat not one
of them was to be'seen. ‘He Watched a moment
longer the peculiar'motior of thé grass that had
excited his suspicions: j

“Tt is ‘true}!” he éxelaimed. “These red
hounds have scented us again! But,”head-
ded, tarning'to Mignon, “ Miss Béllmar, I will
sell life itself in your defence !” " 18

“Generous defender! «I hope “your” hour is
not yet.’ Cast your eyes about you, and see if
some avenue of escape is not open.” :
‘T think we aré surrounded ¥ buf one con
solation remains to me yet.” - <

“eowhat is it?” inquired Mignon, faintly:

“Tt is the privilege of dying with you b }

- BeGinds your devitiot! thien'80 far?”

“To'dié'for' you is my duty” >, MOG
' “No} io } F-will not aceépt the sacrifice’ Fl
at onde ;"eseape while you may, and eave’
to my fate!” said Mignon,’ partially tising, 6%
citement lénding hér strength. "| *

1€ partisan smiled, bit scorned to replytc
such a proposition. His calm face never looked
so handsome as then to Mignon.

“ Ah! it is vain to urge such a consideration
upon you! ‘You are firm—you will not go; I
read in your eyes, on your |.ps,” added Mig-
non, in a subdued voice.

“You are right ; I would not leave you if a
thousand warriors were each thirsting for my
blood, and each under a vow to give me @
wound.” — .

“ And why?”

 

 
  

62

  

“Beeause it is man’s duty to protect wo-
man, at all places, under all. conditions.”

“1s there no other reason ?”

Brion’s hitherto placid face was suddenly agi-
tated; but he struggled manfully to regain his
composure. '

“Do you,wish me to be perfectly frank ?”

“Does the awful, danger that encircles us
warrant aught but the most entire candor?’

“Evidently, no.;, but I will.say ne more, un-
til I have made yet another effort to save you.”

The mountaineer raised Mignon from the

ound and placed her in the saddle, Mounting

is own (horse, and, entreating her to bear up
yet a little longer, he took her bridle, and mov-
ed toward an opening at the western margin of
the glade, which seemed to offer the only chance
ofescape, Heand his fair companion had gal-
oped, but,a few, rods.before he perceived that
the open.space led directly to the canon, and
the,ground was too rough to be traversed by
horse.

“«Weseem to be indeed. lost,” said Brion.

“But let us dismount ; I can carry you in my |

arms.” ,

‘‘Do not burden yourself with me, my friend !
Without me you may elude the savages,”

‘A burden) you will,.not, be. Come, let us
hasten along the canon. Ah, but they are ver
near! Do you not hear those yells? _It.will
)be.a, pleasure to, defend you, anda pleasure to
die with you. ; Mignon, I love you!”

“Then death will unite us forever!” _

“Death to me will be welcome, Mignon, you
are dearer to me than life!” _ ‘

i.‘ SAy friend, T.am.yours.in life or death, as
Bod may order. . ‘We will not be separated.”

_\The. pantisan. took Mignon from, her horse, _

and pressing her.to his heart, was. bounding

away, when,a dusky figure appeared in his path. .

‘Supporting her with his left.arm;he grasped
@ weapon with his right,
voi Son of the pale-face, forbear!” said adeep,
calm voice. : i
“Resist me, and you die!” eried Brion, whose
pistol was aimed, at;the tall, motionless form.
“I seek not, your, life; if I did, no earthly
power could save you,” rejoined the: Indian.
““ Speak not so proudly ; we,are but. man to
man ;,and I think at this moment ‘that the ad-
vantage js. with, me.” 4
“Look!” added the Indian, waving his band,

and emitting a sibulant sound. Brion cast

REDPATH, THE AVENGER; OR,

eyes around, and saw scores of red faces arix
ing about him as if from the earth.

“* Lost!” exclaimed the partisan; but Mig- —

non, though conscious, was too much agitated
to speak; she had covered her eyes that she
might not see the dreaded visages of the sava-

ges.

“Son of the white man, you need not look
for those who left you not long ago; they are
prisoners,” said the Indian.

“T ask nothing for myself; prepare your tor-
tures ; but, spare the maiden!” exclaimed the
mountaineer.

“ You do well not toask mercy of Ravenclaw ;

-you shall both share the same fate. The nature

of the red man is eruel !”” returned Ravenelaw,
with lofty. irony.

‘Mignon unelosed her eyes, and fixed them
upon Ravenclaw. ;

“ Lilyface, you are free,” he said, with dig-
nity.
“ And this brave man—is he not free also ?”

“He dies!” replied the Indian, coldly.

‘So will all men die, brave chief.” While
Mignon was speaking, she took the figure ot

‘the;raven from her bosom, and faetened it to

Brion’s breast.

“ That, saves, but one life,” said Ravenclaw.

“Let it be his, then. Son of the Eagie, lam
your, captive,” ,

Ravenclaw remained silent, a moment, then
turning to the grim cireles of braves, said, au-
thoritatively :

“ Warriors, release your prisoners, and return
to yonn lodges.” Q

He did not speak again until every red face
had vanished. ,

“ Lilyface, you and your people shall live, I
have.saved them; yet the red man is cruel, and
his mature is stern like flint.” Then to Brion:

“Son of the Buffalo, go your way. The
daughter of the timid doe has given you life,
and saved your trappers from the knives of the
Blackfeet braves. Thank the Great Spirit that
he has not called you to-night to go on the long
trail tothe land of souls. Go and take the otter
and the beaver, and fulfill your allotted moon
on the.earth.” : ‘ ey

With a gesture of indeseribable di nity, Ra-
venclaw walked rapidly from sight, while Brion
and Mignon gazed after him in breathless ;ei-
lence, almost in.awe. ; -

 

 

 
2 Bae

 

THE FAIR HUNTRESS OF THE SOUTH-WEST 63

, CHAPTER Xh. |
MIGNON AN INTERESTED PART, .

Pierre Mariot was possessed of dogged per-

werance, when in pursuit of a coveted object,

pposition sharpened ‘his*éagerness, and diffi-
culties quickened his energies. If his intent
“was bad, it matteréd not; ‘the same obstinate
firmness marked “his movements. ° His unex-
pected repulse by Mignon aroused this perverse
principle in his ‘nature, and subsequent events

ut it into full action. ‘The motives that in
sexed her flight to Westport, were, to him, at
first, ‘profound. ‘mysteries — mysteries, ‘too,
which‘ he'was feverishly anxious to penetrate.
Her escape from his camp, and from that severe
espionage which he intended to exercise over
her, disappointed, while, ut the same time, it
provoked ‘him. :

That Mignon would put herself under Brion’s
“protection, he'was quite sure; and immediately
upon the discovery of her flight, conferred
with Callard in regard ‘to the best means of

again obtaining control of her person, while .

Beavertaker was dent to watch the movements
of ‘the’ rival band, with instructions to report
‘what he saw as often as practical. He'returned
at noon on‘the ensuing day, with the startling
intelligence that Mignon “had probably been
eaptured by the'Crows, aud that Captain Brion
had started in pursuit with a picked party of
“trappers. ° He made the discovery by overhear-

“ing a few words while doncealed in the bushes

‘near the encampment of the mountaineer, ‘but
‘the particulars were unknown to him.” 'This
news perplexed Mariot not a little; but ‘he
Bettled the matterj’after some reflection, in this
tianner: Brion was undeniably both-bold and
“experienced, ane would resete Mignon—if res-
‘eve were possibie—without his aid or co-opér-
“ation ; henee ie néed only remain quiet and
“await ‘the’ issue. Upon this’ poliey ‘he acted.
Through the’instrumentality of the half-breed,
‘he ‘was informed, on ‘the’ following day, of the
‘young ‘lady's rescue,’and that she was’ being
‘ednducted to the canon by the brave partisan.
It ‘was then’ that’ Callard was sent ‘with the
‘messaye, which, us'we have seen. was treated
‘as it deservéd by Mignon’and the captain.
Beavertakerwas then instructed to instigate
‘the Blackfeet wartiors\(whose minds he: had
“Yrifluenced “by “presents ‘and inflammator
‘Spéeches), to attack the trappers: encamped yin

{

“the’eanon, Whieh! he*did ; while: Kincaid, in

“the diszuixe’ of ‘an’ Endian; led another part;

“aguinst Brion, for thé purpose of withdrawing

Migudn' from “her! proveétion, iu accordance
with the wishes of his employer, Mariot.

The failure of this scheme to obtain the per
sun of Mignon, was a vexatious disappoint.
ment, but from which he soon recovered to
concoct, a new one, in which Headley was to
bear some part, influenced by bribes and pro-
mises.

“Remain encamped in this vicinity until I
have captured this truant damsel, and I will
give you such an outfit as you need for the
ed march before you,” said Mariot to Head-
ey.

The intended plan failed, and Mariot now —
endeavored to work upon Headley, to league
with him in his purpose to secure the person
of Mignon. He gradually prepared him by an
artful detail of sucha story as he pleased, and a
prolonged conyersation followed, in which Ma-
riot developed so much of his plans to his ae-
complice as he deemed prudent. These plans
we will not now detail, as they will be known
by subsequent events. In the meantime, we
will return to Mignon. :

Attended by the partisan and the trappers,
who had been taken and released by the Ind
ans, by the orders of Ravenclaw, she soon h-:)
the satisfaction of reaching a place where sho
could obtain that rest she so much needed.

But new and powerful emotions agitated her
heart ;, she prayed, she wept, and then, over-
«powered by fatigue, sank to sleep to pass

through again many of the scenes of the last
forty-eight hours. When she awoke, she saw
the sunbeams creeping in through ‘the aper-
tures of the tent, and knew that her slumbers
must have been protracted. She felt no dis-
position to. moye, and recalled all that had re-
cently transpired, in the proper order of each
particular incident. She remembered, too, as
-a-iast link in the chain of events, that some-
thing unusual had passed between herself and
Captain Brion ; the recollection ‘heightened the
color of her cheeks, and quickéned the pulsa-
, tions of her heart. She asked if her eonduct
,had been such a8 became her sex and situation?
if she had deported herself with dignity, cour-
age, and delicacy? She trusted that she could
| answer yes with, a folerably clear conscienée,
but feared that maturer thought might bring
conwiotions less flattering.
.o fCome,” said — Brion, “as you have not
breakfasted, you must test the skillfulness of an
old French yoyageur’s cookery—not so varied,
_perchanee, as the fare to which you have been
accustomed, but which I trust you will not find
wholly payaiaiayle,
Mignon followed the partisan into the open

 

 
 
  
 
 
 
 
  
  
 
 
 
  
 
 
  
 
  
 
  
  
 
  
  
  
  
 
   
 
 
  
 
  
 
   
 
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
  
 
  
 
 
 
  
 
  
 
  
  
  
 
 
  
 
 
  
  

See ee eee ee ee eee eee

,

air, Beneath the cooling shade of an over-
hanging cliff, upon a small grass plot, was ar-
ranyed the simple eookery to which Brion
had referred, consisting of tender venison, pre-
oared in the best of trapper style, some hard
tania, and the luxury of eoffee—an unpre-
tending meal which they cheerfully diseussed.

We. have sometimes wished that lovers might
remain lovers to the end of their lives, and thus
secure the pleasures of a continual affection,
tinged with that novelty, freshness, and expee-
tation, that attend, the first awakening of that
gentle sentiment.

* By the beard of the Prophet Smith!” ex-
claimed: Buckeye, approaching Bricn.
“Well?” said the partisan, inquiringly.
“Who do you, suppose is looking for-you?”
Brion replied that be could not tell.

“Tt is your old friend, Headley,” quoth, the
trapper, with his accustomed shrug

“Ab! said Brion." What does he want?”
“Beavers and otters! I ain’t in’ his confi-
denee. What's more, I don’t want to be. The
truth is, I haven’t.no faith in the eretur.
There’s a kink in his dispersition that IT can’t
straighten out, ue ways. Depend on it, cap'n,
there's suthin’ in the wind!” ?

“ Possibly not; it’s our duty to be charitable,
you know. There’s no man so bad phat lie lias
not some good in him.’” mt F
“When you find the good spots in Headley,
I wish you'd jes’ clap your finger om ’eiii, or
make a chalk mark acrost ’em, 80 they can'be
diskivered by common eyes. Aceurdin’ tomy
notions of huiaan makin’ up, there were a few
ingredients left put at the timé of his airthly
composition ; one of thém articlés was honesty,
which, on the whole, is rather important in
creatin’ a human bein’.”

* Yes,” certainly, honesty ought to be re-
membered, friend Buekeye.”

“ But in this case it, was totally disremem-
bered; but here he comes, and you can make
moré or less on hiin, jes’ as the notion takes
you ” 3. Fe

The partisan was already watching the a4,
proach of Headley, wondering what the Object
* of his visit might be.” AC

,. The nutinous trapper drew near with a
downeast look : ae
‘Captain Brion,” he said, penitently, “Dye
no, right to expect a friendly reception from
one whom,.I fear, I have treated very unhand-
Jagmiely,”, on

+ Your conduet, Mr. Headley, has been well
valculated to forfeit my good” will, and your
jopresenge in camp, cannot be ‘regarded by me
AS, very. Welcome event,” returned Brion,
_)soldly, J loci “sd A

«oon A expected such areply ; my béhavior has
{,merils.d severe reproof, Tcame prepared to hear
your reprouches patiently, and ‘to ddufess ‘that
cobsivoctye thet,’ returogd Headley, in the same

humble tones. \

REDPATH, THE AVENGER; OR,

“ By the beard of Sinith,
eye, in a suppressed voice.

“Before you say more, let me ask why are
you hear?” resumed Brion, with considerable
sternness.

“To acknowledge frankly, eaptain, that 4
have been in fault, and to beg to be restored,
partially, at least, to your confidence.”

“To have confidence in ajman who has for.
feited his word, and forgetten his duties. as you
have’ done, will) prove. exevedingly difficult, I
suspect, to one who, like me, is strong in his
prejudices. Where are those who went with
your”... ;

“Some of. them haye joined another band of
trappers, and the, remainder are on their way
to Fort Laramie.” ; d

“ And the gold-seeking expedition-—”

“Js abandoned.”

Brion mused a moment.

“Mr. Headley,” he added, “if I had any
means of testing your sincerity, your, apology
should be accepted.”

“Try me,” said Headley, ‘and. if you, find
one in your band more quick to qbey your or-
ders, then you shall be at liberty to doubt my
sincerity. My original agreement, lam aware,
is forfeited, and I do not ask to be fully rein-
stated, but merely to be tolerated amoung yout
more, I cannot reasonably expect.” .

“My nature, sir, is a frank, unsuspecting one.
You recollect the old adage, ‘ to err is, human,’
ete ? I am disposed to, overlook your fault,
and restore you once more to your place, and

vl trust-my confidence will not be abused.” _

The ee /were, standing, near Mignon’s

tent, and at that juncture that young lady ap-

eared. ; é

« Headley, who saw Mignon advancing, exhib-
ited considerable surprise, fixing, his eyes so
intently: upon her, that she could not but be
aware of his close serutiny.. Her beauty daz-
zled the unstable Miesourian. He had expected
to see a masculine young woman, possessed of
no more charms than Don Quixote’s Duieinea ;
therefore, the loveliness of Mignon was a reve-
lation'so unexpected, that he could do nothing
but stare at the fair.apparation, as, if be wilder-
ed. He could now fathom Mariot’s motives, so
far as this attractive divinity,;was concerned.
He desired to secure her person,.not so much
for humanity’s sake, as for his own; for. it
eseemed to, Headley impossible that one who
had once’seen Mignon snould not loye her.

Days passed on; revealing to lenge. the
felicity of Briou, and the ealm trust, of Mignon.

He was maddened, atthe successes of one to~

‘award whom he hadynever felt any friendship ,
and one, too, that his eonscienge assured: him
was much his superior in moral attributes and
sterling qualities. He saw them walk together,
and the sizht was hateful. to him; he heard
them speaking in low and.confidential tones,
and the sounds were torture to his ears. ,

yes!” said Buck

eG

to " 1

‘

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

* THE FAIR HUNTRESS OF THE SOUTH-WEST. . 65

The partisan, absorbed in the presence of
Mignon. grew daily less observant of Headley,
till his movements were entirely unwatched by
him. It was then that the Missourian began
to take walks by himself, which daily grew
longer and extended farther from the camp. As
he returned regularly, and deported himself
well, no suspicion was excited, so far as Brion
‘Was concerned.

One circumstance annoyed the Missourian :
he was satisfied that Buckeye had followed him
on more than one occasion, which was a species
of espionage threatening to prove fatal to his
plans. After many attempts, he succeeded in
eluding, he believed, the vigilance of the trap-

er. The hour was between sunset and dark.

y a circuitous route he reached the arm of tim-
ber, near which the steel arrow had been so,
singularly projected’ by, an unseen bowman,
and into the tree upon which the figure of a
man had been earved with the point of a knife.
A person advanced from the timber and met
him, if was the half-breed.. Together they

assed into the obseurity of the wood, and con-
Bevo earnestly for a long time, when Headley
hurried back tothe canon. . At eleven o'clock,
when the partisan walked through the encamp-
ment, according ‘to his. habit, everything was
as usual, and he went to sleep with the con-
eciousness that.all was safe.

When he visited Mignon’s tent in the morn-
ing, she was not there. While wondering at
the cirenastance, Buckeye came to inform him
that several of the horses had been stolen dur-
ing the night, Mignon’s among others,

“ Where is Headley ?” asked Brion.

“He’s not to be found,” said Buckeye. “By
the beard of Smith!”

Brion lost no time in useless:repinings over
what had happened. That he was perplexed
and. anxious, will be believed, and needs. no
affirmation. With characteristic promptness
he commenced a. search. for Mignon. The

ground arovad the tent, was thoroughly ex-;

amined, but it was not of amature to leave a
trail’; there was,a,rocky ridge extending a'mile
or two from the canon, upon which, the foot of
man or horse could. make no impression.
Though sharp-sighted and experienced, the
partisan was unable to determine the course of
the, missing, maiden... Under these , cireum-
stances, he mounted his horse to. make. a more
eneral investigation. Buckeye, like 9 faith-
ful, friend, attended the captain, as much inter-
eated in the search, apparently, as he...

“T always mistrusted, the eretur,” quoth the
trapper, alluding to Headley, “ and you remem-
ber, perhaps, that I advised you to have noth.
ing to do with him, notwithstandin’ hia peni-
tence.” is oa oan

“Your suspicions were at first shared by

me; but his correct deportment afierward re-_
stored my confidence,” returned the moun-,

ta‘neer.

 

“I’m nut blamin’ ye fox bein’ charitable, as
*twere, because. charity is what we all need,
more or less. T.ought to recollect, too, that
your mind was too much taken up with that
oncommon woman.”

The partisan’s, manly,face was suffused for a
moment, and he answered :

“Tt is possible that I have been. selfish in my
happiness’; and upon reflection, I am inclined
to think it is so.”

“No apologies; cap’n; in sich a case it isn’t
in human natur to be otherwise. She’s the
puttiest woman alive, and interestin’ to mateh.
As old as I am—and I'm alittle up’arde of forty
—I'm almost fool enough to love her myself.”

“ What pleasure it gives me to hear you
speak so kindly of her!” said Brion, warmly.

“Who could speak otherwise? There’s no-
body with a heart that knows her that can say
anythin’ that isn’t to. her praise. You'll be a
happy man with her; if not, ’twill be your
own fault.”

“You forget that she may be lost to me for-
ever?”

“ That’s @ supposable ease, but.I can’t make
up my mind to it, yet. She'll turn up some-
where, dead or alive, when you ain’t expectin’
her. I shall travel a great many miles afore I
give her up, nor despair in one day or ~wo, or
ia & week or @ month. Flash can carry me
like a bird, and won’t mind a thousand miles
of travel sca’cely at all, specially when he
knows who he’s arter; in fact, the quadrupid
tig exercise rather, to lubricate his j’ints,
like.”

“ Buckeye!” exclaimed the partisan, “ your
friendship gives: me courage, and makes mo
think better of my. fellow-men.”

“Beard of Smith! it’s like your ebaritable
natur to say that. But that’s not to the p’int,
exactly, I wonder where Callard and his band
may be about this time?”

“On the march, and far ahead of wa, doubt-
less. , Ah! if it was not for this unfortunate
affair, we might hope to overtake them. Clear.
ly, they will reach the. trapping-grounds firet.”

“Tt-can’t be helped; you've labored under
peculiar diffikilties, and.tien’t in the power of
man to control sarcumstances so they'll work
jest to.one’s mind. The best, of us are short ,
sighted: mortals, and can’t see much beyond

our noses." Providence deals, with us precisely
as it's mind to, knowin’ the end from the be-,

ginnin’.. Worryin’ nevér did nobody no good. .
and never will as long as the irth sareum-
navergates the air, We must submit to what

comes with becomin’ submission, knowin’ ita”
from above, pr somewheres in that d’rection.”’;
“T haye endeavored to do my best for my

employers.” cae
it: [il make oath to it in a court of justice,

stopped & few days. but humanity required *
that, yoX, #Rpuld

with By aa on the Bible! Tt's trie that’ you,
should.” Redpath, hiweelf, ‘couldn’:

 

 
  

 

   
  
  
    
   
   
   
    
  
 
 
  
   
  
 

6

  

be so much of a savage ag to goon and leave
ai honest fellow-man in ‘siekness: and distress,
nv Matter what his complexion might happen
to be. No, no! such barbarity: couldn't be
found. The wounded and sick must'be taken
care of, fur or no fur; whether companies’ get
rich or not. Them’e my” notions, ‘and I’m
forty and up’ards.”

“My own, too.”

“T's equally gour duty-to look after this
Mignon, let what will come of it.”

“That is my fixed determination ; but tell
me, my friend, where shall we look.”

“In sév’ral directions; Headley must ‘be
found, if it takes a month; and perhaps’ you'll
have to push on after Callard—there’s no know-
in’, And’ as’ for Pierre Mariot, he deserves
lynehin’!” ;

“He's a villain |”

‘“As wicked a‘seamp as’ ever walked’ the’
prairies, Headley excepted”

“ T have had a thought which perhaps [ ought
not to speak, but which, nevertheless, has given
me some uneasiness.””

“Speak it, eap’n, ‘leas it’s somethin’ compro-
misin’ the integrity uf that oncommon female ;
in which case you'd better be silent.”

“TF recollect that Headley tried to make him-
self very agreeable to Miss Bellmar.”

“Beard of Smith! I'm shamed of you, cap’n
I cau see what you're drivin’ at, and advise you
to drop the subject where 'tis. I've never seen
the gal that knew her own mind better, though
Im forty and up’ards.”

“T thank you, Buckeye; I certainly do
wrong to doubt her.”

“Depend on’t, wherever she’s gone, it’s agin
her will. She isn't one of the flighty kind, taken
with every decentish face, and deceived by
every artful tongue.” ,

“That is but justice to her good sense. T
shall ask her pardon for entertaining a thousht
even, not to her credit.”

“TI see that you don’t forget it, eap’n. She’s
eqiial to any of the saints in the calendar,‘and ,
you deserve to do penance, as ‘twére.””

“We must rearch for the villain, Headley ;
and I shall give myself. no rest until I have
found his lurking-place ; I will cross prairies,
Iwill climb mountains, I will cross vatleyé and
rivers, and dare every a of a savage country
in-this porsuit. My friend, I have an extraor-
dinary incentive to exertion; you. see that
Mignon charms all; her beauty touches the
heart of the red man, even; while her good-
ness, kindness and gentleness win the friendship
of the rough mountaineer. Yerterday, I was
happy, for Mignon waa near me, but to-day I’
am miserable, for I no longer see her face, nor
hear her voice.”

» They rode op ia.silenee, eden nth closely all

the route for milea, Jast at sunset, Brion struck’
a fresh trail leading to the water and both he
and Buckeye swam their horses to the other

REDPATH, THE AVENGHL; OR, *

 

y

side. Itewas. now too dark to fellow the trail
with certainty, and they encan:ped for rest and
refreshment. ‘But the partisan could nat tran-
quilize his mind to repose. and finding the effort
to sleep irksome, hie softly arose the moment he
judged Buckeye to be asleep, and passed ontiof
the tent, and started anew in search of the traik:
He went on until he-eame tz a hill, which be
climbed, and passed over to the other side. “At
its'base was’ an impassable ehaparral, and he
turned aside to the south. He soon came to
a dell surrounded’ by red cedar and pines,
where he found the remains of a firesti!l smoke
ing
While Briow stood reflecting whether to con-
tinue his solitary reconnoissance or return to
Buekeye, he was startled bya loud and trium-
phant iaugh near him. Raising his’ eyes’ end
partially turning round, Brion beheld a spee-
tacle whieh sent the blood thrilling through
his veins with unwonted rapidity ; he wes sure
rounded “by stalwart warriors, whose dusky
features looked grim and terrible in the dark
ness: In advance of the’ rest, and scarcely
three yards from the mountaineer, stood one
whose dress and bearing indieated him to be s
chief:

‘And so the cunning Fox has come to the
hunter?” said ‘he, repeating the laugh that had

 

so electrified the partisan. ‘‘ Has'the Fox be iy
come a fool; that he thrusts his paw into the :
trap?”

“The most cunning are not always upoa
their guard, and an old aquaw mey sometimes
surprise the panther sleeping on a tres,” aeia!
Brion.

“T trapped ‘you once before, but the heart of
Ravenclaw was soft. The eyes of Lillyface
turned his blood’to water. Wily trapper, you
will not live to’ see the next new moon. Las§

ear, Prairiewolf scented you upon Snake

‘iver, when you were catching the eaver, but
he could not ‘catch you; now he has got’ his
hand on you, andyou cannot escape. What
have you to say?”

“That T will give you much for liberty,” rer’
sponded Brion. :

‘““Do you give liberty to the otter when you
have taken it? Do you spare the buffalo wher
you are hungering for his flesh? Do you say
to the panther, go in peace, when you’ have
levelled your rifle at her heart? Fox “you have*
loat your cunning !”” ‘

‘“T have guns and ammuhition, Hatchets and
hunting-knives, beads, bells, and mirrors, an@
strong horses,” replied the trapper.

“Tt is not-80; you have se teteS not even
life. Listen, we’ diay a vow to kill the first
living thing that came among us. White man,
such vows are never broken.” .

“T have heard of such a custom prevailing >
among your people: Fut it is 8 cruel and’ use’
less one. If I must be sacrificed. it will trake®
but little difference w}ther I die to night or

  

 
 

 

 

‘THE FAIR HUNTRESS OF THE SOUTH-WEST.

three days hence ; therefore giv me. three
days liberty, and) at. the expiration of that
time I will return, when you, ean fulfill your
vow.’? é

‘‘Wa-wa! I was right when I said the Fox
was. growing foolish; he ,is getting into his
dotage.”

‘+1 swear by the Great Spirit, that, I will re-
turn and surrender myself a prisoner, to suffer
the death you have determined upon!” added
Brion, with emphasis.

‘Paleface, that. cannot be! Even if you
came back, Ravenclaw might again give you
life ; but; L, will not trust you ; your heart isnot
big enough to. keep your word... If you come,

it would be with your hunters at, your heels,

with their rifles;eocked and at,theirfaces. Prai-
riewolf is not « child, that; he should be de-
ceived by words, which are as smoke eurling
from the top of a wigwam; to pass away into
the air and be remembered no more.”

The. ‘partisan felt..a cold, sickly, sensation
creeping over him, lis; blood seémed to flow
back upon his heart with,horror; he experi-
enced an instinctive shrinking that reached to
his very marrow. Prairiewolfe eyed him, a
mocking smile on his lips: ;

“Prairiéwolf, when the Master of Life calls
for us, we must go; but the white man has
different notions from the savage. | Hig flesh is
More sensitive to the fire than the red man’s,

er

because he has never Feen taught to despise ita
tortures. If nothing but my death will suffice,
strike your knife into my breast and let me pass _
at once to the hunting-grounds.”

“A squaw might die in that way; @ great
chief like you deserves a more honorabla
death.” .

_A brave approached to bind Brion’s hands.
Resolved to secure a sudden death or escat' ’
with his hatchet he struck the savage down at
Prairiewolf's feet, and bounded from the dell
with the speed of a deer, But there were those
after him jswift of foot and tireless in pursuit ;
and having searcely three yards the start of his
pursuers, the mountaineer could hardly hope
for success. He was overtaken, carried back,
and bound in a manner to preclude the possi-
bility of a second attempt.

yi You ‘are not quick enough!” said Prairie-
wolf, tauntingly. “A boy could run faster.”

“But a boy could not do that! retorted
Brion, pointing to the body of the brave whom
he had stricken, —

“We shall see,” resumed Prairiewolf, fieree-
ly, “ how you will bear up under the ordeal of
the twelve fires !’” :

“The will of God be done! replied Brion,
commending himself to that Being who is apt
to be forgotten in prosperity, and remembered
only in adversity. ;

 
  

CHAPTER XII

bneks BRION’S ESCAPE.

‘ “Te the moon up, cap’n?” said Buckeye,
rubbmg ins. eyes. There not being any re-
sponse, ae added, presently, ait ‘spect it’s about
time to be stirrin’.” :

The, silenee -remained, unbroken, Buckeye
aros¢.and, turned to the spot where he supposed
Brion, to be slumbering:

~ Beard of the prophet Smith! He isn't
here! Well, he can’t be fur off. that’s sartin.
Perhaps he’s gone after the. horses, No he
hasn’t, neither; for there they stand in plain
sight.”

“ By the book of Mormon!” exelaimed Buck-
eye, suddenly. ‘“Somebody’s arter the cap’n’s
hogs!” ; :

His observantjeye had detected a man crouch-
ed-in the grass, in ‘the act of ‘cutting the side-
line,from the trapper’s steed.

“Look this way!” shouted Buckeye. ;

The thief obeyed, not certain that the words,
were addressed to, him; but.all doubts were-
dispelled when he saw the trapper’s long rifle
covering hig head. |

“Tf your life’s worth anythin’ eer to
ye, get up aud come thig way, and try to re-
member thagf, if you run, J’ll drop you as I
would a tarnal catamount!”* ~ ay

The detected offender reluctantly advanced,
revealing no less a personage than the half-
breed.

“Oh! it’s you, is it? Well, this is nice kind
of business for a cretur with white blood in his
veins, I s'peet there’s no other branch of in-
dustry that you can git into,” said Buckeye, as
Beavertaker approached.

“With the people with whom I live, horse-
stealing is not esteemed a crime, but rather a
virtue,” returned Beavertaker.

“Well, jest clap down on your knees and
gay over a little sunthin’, and [’Jl give ye a bit
of a lift toward “the half breed kentry. I
s’pect you haven’t got Ingin blood enough in
ye to care any great about a death-song, and
as for your explites, it won’t take long to tell
em.”

At that instant, something fell softly at Bea-
vertaker’s feet, who, thereupon, evinced much
agitation,

“Beavers and otters! it’e an arrow!” ex-
slaimed Buckeye.

But the half-breed was too much terrified
to speak. ‘ 4 a

“You look ’magin’ white about the mouth,
and’ T reckon there's a heap of meanin’ in this
little messenger. Come, half-breed, find your
tongue.”

“ Yes, there is indeed meaning in it,” an-
twered Beavertaker, striving to master his
feare, “It tells me that my life hangs on a
thread -it warns me to begone, and appear no
_— in the sountry of the Blackfeet, on pain of

2a! “hl

 

REDPATH, THE AVENGER ; OR,

“Tis the work of Redpath!” said the trap.
per, in a subdued voice. ‘The unknown ere-
tur is near; his noiseless feet are walkin’
around us ; his eagle eyes are seein’ us, and his
quiver is full of these polished instruments ¢
death.”

“ There is'too much truth in what you say.
I shall tarry no longer amid these hills ; I must
direet my footsteps to some distant spot where
the name of Redpath is unknown.”

“Tf that’s the case, then free your conscience
at onee, and you'll go lighter for havin’ cast
off a great burden of deviltry,” advised Buck-
eye. ;

“ Theré is one thing I regret,” added the half .
breed, with some show of remorse.

“ That's right ;'I’m glad to hear ye say 80;
it makes half breed human natur appear to bet«.
ter advantage. Tell me what it is that you're
sorry for ?” ¢

“T will ;’ it is’ that I'sold myself to Pierre’

Mariot.” Bot

“And well you may, for he is a villain» As
it can’t now‘make any difference to you, either:
in regard to your pay or future prospests, ‘in-
form rhe what Mariot has’been tryin’ to do ?”

“At first his object was to destroy the trap-
pers of the American Fur Company.” 9):

“That I have tound out: already,” said the
trapper.) >! ¢ e

‘When’ Mignon appeared,” resumed. Bea-'
vertaker, “and went over to: Brion’s party; it:
then became his great object to obtain posses-
sion of her person, and, by a series of persecu~
tions, overcome her objections to his wishes.’

“ And what might his wishes be ?”

“To make her Madame Mariot, of course.”

“T have yet another question to ask.”

“ Ask it.”

“Can you tell me where Mademoiselle Bell:
mar is now ?”

“She is traveling toward the Plains as fast
as fleet horses ean carry her. She is with Ma-
riot, and Headley was his instrument. But the
end is not yet; Headley loves her, and there
will be a struggle between the two.”

“ Beard of Smith! Jest whatI thought! Put
two scoundrels together to serve the devil, a; -*
directly they'll go to cuttin’ each other
throat. What trail is that the cap’n and
have been followin’ ?”

“That of a small party of Blackfeet, who
have aworn never to return to their village
Without a prisoner.”

* Ah, that gives me an idea! Depend on’t,
the cap’n’s in trouble. It’s probable that the
thought of Mignon kept him awake, and he got
up and followed this trail, and has been taken
by this war party. By Joe Smith’s beard! I
must. be after him.” .

“Madman, stop! you will but go to share
his fate!”

“Share his fate? I’m willin’ to—I’m willin’
to, if I can’t save him. What is fire to a tine

 

ne

 
 

 

 

 

eee ee

THE FAIR: HUNTRESS

seul? | It’s nothin’! All the firein the world
¢an’t/burn up the immortal principle of an hon-
est man!” said Buckeye, with fervor.

“Follow your destiny, and 1 will mine.
Time is passing, and to me it is the same as
life. But I turn my back upon these familiar
seenes with sorrow; I love the prairies and
the wide skies over them ; the mountains have
become dear to me, and I love to hunt the bui-
falo upon the great hunting-grounds of the red
man. { go, and we shall never meet again.
Honest trapper, farewell!” Beavertaker said
no more, but turning away, was soon out of
sight.

“The kentry’s relieved,” said the trapper ;
“it'll breathe easier, feel better, and stan’
longer, I dare say. “It can’t be said that Red-
path hasn't done some good, pervidin’ he’s had
a hand in the matter; for one, I’m obleged to
him, be he man or demon. But I mustn’t for-

it for an instant that the cap'n’s in danger.
‘ll hop on to Flash, and it shall go hard with
me if I don’t find him. Flash can scent an
Ingin as far as a dog can his master.”

Buckeye hastily saddled his horse, and leav-
ing Brion’s animal to shift for himself, was
soon in motion. With his nose near the
ground, Flash followed the trail of the moun-
taineer.

When Flash had gone on in this manner for
a halfor three quarters of an hour, he stopped,
snuffed the air, and:shook his head.

“He smells the ereturs!” said Buckeye;
“they’re near—I never knew him to fail.”
He dismounted, and stood a moment beside his
horse.

“Flash,” said he, gently, stroking the crea-
ture’s neck with his hand, ‘ we’ve been friends
@ great while, and it wouldn’t be like ye to de-
sert me now. Stay here and be as still as
death. If I don’t see ye agin, but go under,
the same as a good many better men have,
don’t never let an Ingin riptile swing his leg
across your back.’ ;

Stooping until his figure presented but half
its usual attitude, the trapper glided onward
end soon reached the dell, where active pre-
parations were being made for the death of the
prisoner.

The savages had already fixed twelve green
stakes in the ground, and were gathering heaps
of fagotan»To Buckeye, this-was » mournful
spectacle ; he gazed from his place of conceal-
ment with mingled feelings of horror and in-
dignation. He felt himself in a dreadful di-
lemma; he could witness the agonies’ of his
friend with but little chance of aiding him, or
he could fly for assistance back to ‘the canon,
with the terrible fear following him at every
step that he might be too late to save his life.
Thus he remained. Knowing that it would be
rash to undertake anything in favor of Brion
against such numbers, he concluded to go for
@asistance, hoping, by dint’ of hard riding, to

OF THE SOUTH-WEST. 69
-Yeturn’ in season to save the captain's life.
Creeping back, he mounted Flash, and rede
away as fast as‘ his fleet limbs gould carry him.

Meantime, the partisan was lying upon the
ground in the most painful position. He saw
the green stakes driven, the fagots brought,
dry pine splinters prepared, and various other
arrangements caléulated to shake the sternest
resolution. "He had abandoned himself to his
faté with a kind of despairing apathy, when a
sudden recollection, like a gleam of light,
flashed through his mind.

“Prniriewolf,” said he, “is it not the will of
the Great Spirit that I should die now ?”

“White men talk often of the Great Spirit,”
replied the chief, ironically. “Why do you
think he has not called you, and that you shall
live longer upon the earth?”

“Unbutton my hunting-froek, and you will
find that beneath it which will answer your
question.” f

Bending over Brion, he tore open his frock,
and there was revealed to his wondering sight
the figure of a raven wrought in. beads.
Prairiewolf stood silent and confounded;
rage and disappointment were pictured upon
his visage:

“ Accursed Fox!” he exclaimed. ‘Some of

_ your cunning yet remains. This is indeed a
mighty medicine. I will show it to my war-
riors, and hear what they say.”

Prairiewolf took the talisman, and, going
away a little distance, called his braves around
him, when considerable talking followed in low
tones. Presently the chief returned, and giv-
ing the mountaineer the memento. that seemed
to possess such power, said : ;

“You were right, pale-face ; your time has
not come; you may yet live many moons to
trap the otter and the beaver. See! J cut
your bands; rise up; you are free!”

The mountaineer sprang lightly to his feet,
and the fear of a painful death rolled back from
his soul. He stretched out his arms—he shook
himself like an impatient steed—a sense of
freedom made him happy.

“'Tis the providence of God !” he exclaimed.

“Yes,” said Prairiewolf, “it is a great thing

‘that has happened. There is your way—go;
%ut remember that you shall yet feel the claws
Of Prairiewolf!”

“To thank you for my life, would be givin
you too much eredit for humanity; I shall
therefore reserve my gratitude for one more
wowerful than thou. Adieu, unfriendly red
man |”

A braveadvanced and handed Brion his rifle;
throwing the weapoi upon his shoulder, he
walked fromthe eamp of his enemies with a
firm and dignified step.

Brion took the way he had come, and as he
increased the distance between himself and the
savages, quickened hig pace. ,

“ Wabuma!” said a voice near the mon

 
 

70

taineer, at the moment when he was passing
the chaparral adverted to in another place.
‘The partisan cocked his rifle, and looked forthe
speaker, who’immediately emerged from the
mezquit at his left.
_ “ What is your purpose?” questioned Brion,
presenting his rifle. é
“To pay adebt I owe you!”
“I know you not,” added the captain,
“Yan-kee, I am Blackbird, son, of, the Ra-
gen,” rejoined the Indian. r

The partisan eased the hammer of. his rifle-

_ loek softly back, pon, the, unbroken eap, and
dropped the, breach of the’ weapon. to. the
jground, -, 4 :

“Ah! Eremember.” ; - 3. , ‘

, “ Wabuma,attendthou! When yonder war-
‘party set out 1 was not ready, for,l.had certain
_Tites to perform necessary to insure success ; I
overtook them this morning, after, you, had
Biven Prairiewolf the great medicine,”

“Go on,” said Brion., ;

“Prairiewolf ent, your bonds, and, said:
‘Arise; you are.at liberty : arise and depart;’”
_. Yes,” added Brion, wondering at. what
Blackbird wds coming to.

“ But,” resumed the Indian, “he spoke de-
egitfully, and there was wickeduess, in his
heart. . Yan-kee, he has, planned your, death.

“When you pass yonder spring, two.brayes, will
Spring upon you and dispatch .you swith their

tomahaw ks. Prairiewgli has ,seub them, there

“for that purpose; they are ,erouching inthe
grass. waiting the gound of your coming.”
“Blackbird, behold how the Great Spirit
, rewards me for a merciful act!” watt Seve
“«Wa-wal the Master of Life is. just; he
never forgets, and, his red ehildren,are like
wae Ste dete
.. “Do you not, fear the consequence, of be-
“$raying this secret ?” Brion asked. :
“I would bave warned you. of this. ifsth

“twelve fires that were to be lighted for yon were .

to be my only, reward for the. deed, 1 will. re-
Bey the devs I owe you,, though. they thrust

y flesh full of blazing splinters, and burp, out
my, tongue,”

“ “My” brother,” said, Brion; with increased
earnestness, “I regret, that my, people do not
better understand your, race... Lwouid to God
that. mutual hatred might. no longer,exist;
that jealousy and bloodshed, might, cease for-
ever.” ibe ing

_ “ Van-kee, I have. given, life.for.life; go your
“way, and remembep thay, Blackbird ‘did, not
“prove ungrateful.”

The Indian vanished like a spirit—so quick-
ly did he glide into the wngled depths. of the
e@haparral—and the partisan, changing his
“svurse, made a detour to the right, thus avoid-
Re the ambush of the wily Prairiewolf. 7He
Feached the spot. where be had, left Buekeye,
found his horse quietly feeding, but, of course,
aay nothing of the trapper or Flash.

 

REDPATH, THE AVENGER ; OR;

cht was now daylight. Thinking it probable
that Buckeye was loooking for him; Briomeen
eluded to retoain in that vicinity for awhile,
believing that he should be more likely'to' find
him in. that; way than by searching itor Hit.
He did not, by any means, intend to slum tier
but having slept none during, the night, Na-
ture proved stronger than, his resolution, and
he fell into an unquiet slumber; in) which he
dreamed of the Blackfeet and. Mignon. He
was, aroused),from his somnoleney hy sounds
that, would nox have| been noticed by onewhe
had not, passed many. years in:a,country where
constant watehfulness was required, but. whose
proved to. be produced by human feet; for the
first object. that met the. mountaineer’s gaze
was @ man who) was looking wisibully at: hie

 

horse, ¢

“Stranger,!” said
here??? nor
The individual, who; obviously had not seen
the partisan, now /turned-toward him, withia

‘Brion; what brings you

Start indicative. of surprises .

“ Ab,” added Brion, immediately, “I. think
we have met, before?” ;

“Yes, and not much, to my.advantage,” re. -
plies the man, pointing to a wound upon hie

ead. !

“You received that little memento, 6f: my
good-will.at;the timber mear the canon,” ton-
tinued the partisan, } { tied @

“1 am pretuy. well aware of it,’ said! Kin-
eaids Th wneetovor) « Ge
“This meeting,:I perceive, is opportune; F
have some, questions to:propose.to you, which

‘I hope you will answer without prevarieation.

y, first question is: Can, you informme where
Pierre Mariot is?” ©

“I shall not answer,’?.said. Kineaids

“ My,next,” resumed Brion, ‘is this : Is Mise
Bellmar. with him?” sat , f

#1 veply to that.as:to the other question.’

“Villain!” exclaimed Brion. woh Heol

“If that suits you, why lebitbe so,” replied
the Frenchman, witha sneer.

“ou were, doubtless, about to appropriate
my horse.” Roos: tie

“I supposed it to be an estray.’»

“No apologies; horse-stealing, I presume,
could easily be reconciled to your: conscience ;
you are not tender, 1 think. « Buf as the civil
questions J have:asked remain unanswered, I
wall. propose another: ‘Teli: merif, you nave
any knowledge of, the movements:of: Head
ley %” Kut 8 "ia , 57 h

“T haves’? » st bio’;

“That iswell; where is he? «

“That ie something I did not agree to tell’

ou.) ti : )
ee A true to this obstinacy! Lam ei
interestedtin Miss Bellmar, and the movemen
of Headley and Mariot; tell: me where 10 find
them, and I will make it worth your wouble.®

“Oh, you will buy me?” A ,

u

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

THE FAIR IUNTRESS OF TH SOUTH-WEST. eg

“If it does not ge beyond my means, yea,
Name your price ¥”

_ You spoke of buying my knowledge ; what
will you give?” \

“ What do you demand ?”

“There is your horse; it is a fine one; I
will accept him as a gift, and in return for
your kindness, tell you all I know of Made-
moiselle’ Bellmar and Mariot,” said Kincaid,

with a cool effrontery provoking to Brion, who ,

was loth to part with an dvimal he valued
highly.

“It isa hard bargain you are driving with
rae, but I will comproriuse matters by giving
you the price ef the animal in money, or such
goods as I have at the encampment,” he an-
swered.

“Wo, that will not-do; I’ll- have the horse,
or it’s no trade, and not a word passes my lips;
80 choose, and that quickly, for I want to be
off,” he said. ( \

“You are indeed a pitiful knave, and it
taxes my patience sorely to keep from Jaying
violent, hands upon you; nevertheless, if these
sre your easiest terms, I accept.”

“Saddle him and bring him. here, and place
the bridle rein in my hand, that I may be sure
there is no trickery about it.”

With a sigh of regre:, and something like re-
morse, the’partisan complied with this request,
Kineaid took the bridle and threw it over the
animal's neck. The horse, resenting this: fa-
nmiliarity from a stranger, or frightened at the
suddenness of the act, reared and backed, Kin-
eaid retiring with him until he was several
yards: from the mountaineer, then springing
with agility to the saddle, gave him the rein,
and struck his flanks with his heels. In a se-
cond, he was galloping away.

Brion drew up his rifle with the intention of
wounding the raseal, but it: missed fire. Kin-
guid had taken off the'eap while he was sad-
dling the horse. 4

“Pat on a cap!” shoutéd the Frenchman,
looking back over his shoulder.

At that instant. the partisan saw a gleam of

‘ jight:nassing through the air; Kincaid eried
out like one in mortal pains and fell headlong
from the horse.

Brion hastened to him; he found him upon
she ground in the agonies of death. A steel-
beaded arrow. had passed through his lungs, and
the glittering point was visible near the spinal
enlumne beneath the shoulder.

He fixed his glassy eyes upon the moun-
taineer.

“Tt is ended!” said he, in a husky voice.
“J'm dying. My fears were prophetic—Red-

th has stricken me. I wished for your horse

leave this accursed region—but it is useless
to-struggle with fate. But I will vorfese this,
Miss Bellmar is with. Mariot and Headley ;

‘ou will find them sorzewhere on the trail to

e city of the Great Salt Lake, Raise me up
6 little.”

 

Brion did so, sup; orting him with h.s, will
ing arms, ‘

‘“« When the oreatk. has left me, honcet Brion,
tie a heavy stone to my body, and sink itin the
waters of the Nebraska.” .

“ Yes,” said Brion, “‘ Iwill do it.”

“That is all; it grows darker—the portals
are grim and horrible—but—but death is. eter.
nal—eternal sleep !”

Kincaid never spake again. ,,

 

CHAPTER, XIV.
A NEW-COMER IN YEE BINLI.

“Tf death ig, an eserual slumder,”, mused
Brion, ‘then he whowhas lived |the best.in the
world willsleep the most tranquilly.. This clod»
was but recently 4, man, now itis insensate
matter, ready to return to, the great body of
nature, whenee it was derived.” 1

“ Beard of the immortal Joe!” eried a woll-
known voice,,and thereupon, the partisan felt
himself hugged as if in the ‘embraces of a
bear. ‘Beavers and otters! guns and gua
powder 1%

The reader will perceive that Buckeye had
returned. ‘ ;

“ Well, eap'n, this is. what, I,call sing’lart
Why, I didn’t much expect to see you agin
in-the eartlily tabnerele of your,nat’ral; body!”

‘A spirit has not flesh and, bones as ye sve me
have,” said Brion, sharing fully in Shae
gladness, ,

“Tn course not, for in that ease one couldn’
never ‘spect'to reach the new Jeroosalem unless
he went up in  billoon; forthe force of gravity,
you know, would keep him rooted to the natural
sile. How, in the name of Smith, did you, git
clear of the Ingin creturs ?” :

\“ First, let me ask, my friend, how yeulearn-
ed that I was a prisoner?”

“ Why; I discovered ye, in)course, and saw
the riptiles, drivin’ green stakesinto the grounA
to the number of twelve and up/ards.”,

“ You took the trail?” '

“Flash and I, yes. I innst sey that I found
ye in.a bud predicament, ‘Dwelve dires | three
days! great Smith!”
oT pereeive you are acquainted with the
whole affair,” :

“ That mixed individoval the Ingins eall Beg-
vertaker has'beem here, and he told me about
the war-party and.their vow; and you bein’
gone, put that-aad that together, and mado
up my mind what had happened, which wae
confirmed by goin’ arter ye. But, by the beard!
what have you here?” —

“You can examine and satisfy yourself.”

“The body of a wan with an arrow driven
through his lungs, the p’int stickin’ from the
back.” ‘ ‘ i :

“True,” said Brion, ? ; ;

* Beavers and otiers irlet ag: heay about it.*

The partisan etated the cirevmstances of the
case.

 
 

 

   
 

2

“Tis the work of Redpath !”” added Buck-
eye, inan under tone. “He is yet at his old
trade ; he’s near us by night and by day ; he’s
never asleep; his foot. never tires, and his
quiver is never empty.”

“A wily foe,” returned Brion.

“ And not only wily but terrible!” resumed
the trapper. ;

“ Terrible to those whom he marks for de-
struction; to others he may bé’quite differ-
ent.”

“Tt wouldn’t be strange if we should foller
arter them that has felt his power, and gone
under the sile. We ought to think of the fu-
tur, and be ready to go at # second’s warnin’,
In case I should be the fust to give up airthly
things, I want you to take Flash and bea good
master to him—the faithful brute.”

“It’s my opinion you are destined fora long
life and a happy one; nevertheless, should I
outlive you,’ Flash shall never want care and
attention ; he shall receive no stinted rations
of provender, his work shall be light, and he
shall die of old age.”

“That sounds right and proper, and ar-
ranges all my airthly matters, with the exeep-
tion of my rifle and sich like, which you must

. keep iu reuiemmbrance of Buekeye—the free

trapper.”

“A brave soldier frequently makes his will
while going to battle; but let us hope that I
shall not execute yours until I azn myself a
very old man. Now tell me where you have
been ; to get help, I dare say?”

“Yes, I started for the canon, but met one
of your old trappers well mounted, and sent
hin: with the news of your capture. Before
noon, twenty-five brave fellers will be here—
chaps that won’t shrink from a skrimmage.”’

“We shall need them, possibly, for another
purpose.”

“To pursue Mariot and Headley ?”

«That is my design,” said Brion. “But J
must attend to the last wish of this poor fel-
low, which was to give him a burial in the
waters of the Nebraska.”

The body was lifted upon Brion’s horse and
carried to the river, to the summit of a cliff
overhanging the water. While they were pre-
paring it for its final resting- place, a horseman
was seen npon the opposite bank, who, per-

ceiving the mountaineers, called to them, de-

siring to know if the river was fordable. The
captain informed him that there was a sand-
bar reaching two-thirds of the distance across,
but. notwithstanding, he would in some places
find it beyond his horse’s depth. ,
The stranger attempted the passage, sueeeed-
ing very well until within twenty yards of the
shore, when+-the horse not being a very pow-
erful swimmer, and the water being déep and
swift—he was borne downward with the cur-
rent and his life endangered. The partisan

‘perceiving his peril, did not hesitate to plunge

REDPATH, THH AVENGER; OR,

into his rescue, which, happily, he effected

The man was taken from the water much ex

hausted. He proved to be a Frenchman.
“Mon Dieu!” exclaimed he, reviving from .

_the effects of his bath. “I am getting too old
‘to travel in such a barbarous country. Ma
foi! I should haye been drowned, but for your

friendly aid.”

“Then by being here was providential,” re
plied Brion.

“Evidently a0; thanks be to the Divine Bee
ing!” said the stranger, fervently.

“We were performing a melancholy serviee
when you appeared, which we will now com-
plete. We were on the point of committing
the mortal remains of a fellow-being to the
keeping of this river.”

“Indeed! a sad affair to perform in this
great solitude; one of your companions, doubt-
less?”

“Guns and gunpowder, no!” exclaimed
Buckeyes. “ We don’t associate with sich.”

“ Please come this way, sir,” requested Brion.

“ Diable! he was shot with an arrow!” cried
the Frenchman.

“And it was a fate he richly desarved, though
we shouldn't judge too harshly of our feller
ereters,” said Buckeye. ,

“He was a bad man, then?”

“He hadn’t no principles, whatsomer; he
was in the employment of Pierre Mariot, part-
ner in the firm of Bellmar & Mariot, of West-
port,” rejoined the trapper.

The Frenchman seemed astounded, looking
from Brion to Buekeye and from Buckeye te
Brion, as if he could not well eredit what had
been affirmed.

“Tt appears to work you up somewhat, stran-
ger; but sich a spettacle as this may nat'rally
do so. Perhaps you've heard of Redpath, and
perhaps you hav’nt; but whether you have or
haven't—and it probably don’t make no great
odds—jest look afore ye, and you'll see a speci-
mint of his work.”

“This is most wonderful!” said the stranger,
trembling with excitement. “I have heard of
Redpath. I hope this is the only white man he
has killed—within your knowledge?”

“I wish it was, but it isn’t, by no means;
sev’ral have felt his arrows and knocked unde?
—as ’twere.”

The Frenchman now looked attentively a:
the partisan. é

“If I mistake not,” he said, ‘this is Captain
Brion, the famous mountaineer?”

“My name is Brion,” replied the eaptain,
modestly, “but I believe I am not. very fae
mous.”

“Thanks to the intercession of the sainte!
this is well. Perbaps you can tell me some.
thing concerning my daughter, Mignon?” said
the Frenchman, hurriedly.

“Otters! are you the, old gentleman!’’ ex-
claimed Buckeye. “ Well, I may say the eap'o

 

 

 
 

.

THE FAIR HUNTRESS OF THE SOUTH-WEST.

has behaved real handsome toward the gal.
He's been the same as a father to her, and bro-
ther, too, for that matter, with a little sister
thrown in. Bless you, sir, he’s run all sorts of
tisk! twelve fires—three days—roastin’—pine
splinters, and so on.”
“For which he will aecept a father’s grati-
tude. Lead me to her at once.”
_“T'm not much in the habit of advisin’ peo-

’ ple older nor myself, but if I might be allowed

to speak in a case like this, I should say keep
down your nat’ral feelin’s till we find+her.
When she’s once diskivered, you can be led to
her, I reckon; but till then, I don’t think it
can be done. The truth is, that. oncommon
woman slipped away from us when we wasn’t
*xpectin’ it; if it hadn’t been for that sareum-
«ance, you wouldn’t have seen us here, for
we're arter her.”

Mr. Bellmar'’s countenance indicated the
depths of his disappointment, while Brion pro-
ceeded to explain the matter as well as he
could; inaddition to which, he made a general
statement of all that had happened to Mignon,
a8 far as he knew.

“1 trust,” said Monsier Bellmar, after a

ause, “that my daughter’s deportment has
en at all times suck as becomes exe of her
years and sex?”

“Guns and gunpowder! if she’d been Queen
of England, she couldn’t conducted herself no
better! Isay it without meanin’ no hurt to
anybody of her kind; but I’ve never seen her
equal, on the prairies or off, in towns or cities,
and I’m forty and up’ards.”

Buckeye spoke with particular enthusiasm,
rounding the final period with a vigorous cut
of his right hand through the air.

Bellmar looked gratefully at the trapper, of
whose sincerity he had not a doubt, his earnest-
ness fully attesting to his honesty.

CHAPTER XV.
CONCLUSION,

Leaving these parties, we return once more
to Mignon. She had retired as usual, but a
little after midnight was awakened by a sense
of suffocation, and discovered that a handker-
chief was tied tightly across her mouth, and
her hands firmly held by a man, who instantly
raised her in his arms, and bore her swiftly from
the tent. 7

“ Be quiet, mademoiselle! no personal injury
or disrespect is intended,” saida voice, which
she recognized as Headley’s. Mignon strug-
gled, and attempted to slarm the camp; but
against Headley her feeble strength availed
uothing She was soon clear of the canon, when
she was placed upon a horse; but the handker-
chief waa not removed until she had ridden ag
far as the timber, where Headley was joined by
Beavertaker, who had just reached the spot
with several horses, her own among the num-
ber. which, a9 the reader knows, he had stolen.

x9

Mignon being free from the restraint of the
handkerchief, was of course at liberty to ex-
press her indignation at such an outrage; a

rivilege of which she did not hesitate to avail
erself. Wheel

“Mademoiselle Bellmar, I am acting under
the influence of a passion that mastersme. Do
not hold me responsible for my deeds; mdeed,
you have driven me mad!’ said he.

“You screen yourself under a miserable sub.
terfuge! You cannot disguise from me the fach
that you are acting under the instructions of
Pierre Mariot,” Mignon replied.

“Tn adoring you, I most certainly do not aot
under his orders,” returned the Missourian.

“Tell me your purpose?” said Mignon.

“My hope is that at some future time you
will come to regard me in @ manner far more
kindly,” responded Headley} with an air of hus
mility.

“If you would have such hope realized,
conduct me whence you have taken me,” she
replied.

“That I cannot consent to do; though if you
will, I will. save you from annoyance from
Mariot.”

“That you may annoy me yourself! Yes, I
see; but the change will not be weleomed by
me. I demand my liberty ; and you cannot, if
aman of honor, refuse my wish. _When wo-
man sues, man should not be inflexible.”

“TJ could witness your death with more calm
ness than your return to Captain Brion, Misa
Bellmar!” he exclaimed, with emphasis.

“Then entreaties are vain ; and it only re-
mains for me to submit to my fate, begging,
however, to be treated with the deference due
to my, sex and honor,” said Mignon, despaim
ingly. ;

‘ You can do no more and no better, made-
moiselle. If you prefer, you may ride your own
horse, you perceive he is here ?”

“Yes, I prefer to ride Brave, suffer me todo
so.” It was some alleviation of her distress to
find herself upon her favorite steed again; and
she indulged also a seeret hope that she might
escape by reason of hisapeed, by taking advan-
tage of some moment when Headley was less
watchful. She observed tiat blankets had been
eut in pieces and tied upon the horses’ féet to
render the trail indistinct; also that the Lard.
est ground was chosen to favor the same intent,
The party crossed the Nebraska before sunrise,
upona raft that had been constr:cted for that
purpose, which was destroyed when they
reached the shore. Mignon’s patience end firm
ness was then put to asevere test, for Mariot
joined them, accompanied by Kineaid, bit the
latter immediately left with Beavertaker, aud
did not return.

Mariot affected a dignity and reserve whi«':
Mignon knew was foreign to his character, aud
which was assumed to cover his designs from
Headley, also to awe the fair captive inte sk
lence and respeot,

 
 
  
  
 

 

   

They now traveled very fast, Pierre being
careful to keep atseme distance from the young
.ady, wishing to escape her keen questioning,
and; deserved rebuke. Mignon quickened ‘the
pace of Brave and rode to his side. She de-
sired to be informed by what authority he as-
sumed the control of her person, and where he
intended to conduether. Mariot replied to the
effect that she must content herself not to know
at, present,-but that all, eventually, would re-
gult to her advantage.

This was unsatisfactory ; Miss Bellmar urged
her just interrogatories with’ becoming spirit.
The Frenchman finally grew angry, and ‘re-
proached her for rejecting him at Westport,
accusing her also of unreaidenly conduct in

lacing herself under the protection of Captain

rion, & rough and rude trapper, not fit for the
@ompanionship off one gently reared; and pos-
sessed of lady-like and refined instincts.

“Evil-minded, invidious man!’ exclaimed
Mignon, vexed and wounded by his base inti-
mations. ‘‘ My aversion for your character mo-
meutarily increases. Think not to'shake wy
constaney of purpose, or conquer my contempt
for you.” ;

eadley, who was riding in the rear, hear-
ing the altereation, rede up, and reproved
Mariot for ‘is bad temper, though in language
not offensive Pierre choked down his resent-
ment, and no more conversation of that nature
ensued.

As many of Headley’s men as Mariot was
able to mount, had been sent forward the day
previous; these they overtook before night;
‘they were to wait for the remainder at.a cer-
tain place known to Beavertaker and Kineaid,
who were to meet them upon the stolen horses,
and conduct them there by another route.

Mignon complained of fatigue, and requested
Headley to encamp for the night—an artifice
which she hoped would prové advantageous
to Brion, who, she doubted not, would be able
to find the trail, notwithstanding all the pre-
cautions taken. “Mariot objected to this pro-
posal, wishing. to hurry on as fast as possible
till morning. A difference of opinion there-
upon arose, which was decided by vote among
theynen, and against the jodgment of Mariot
This circumstance engendered ill-feeling be-
tween the leaders, which, enhanced by mutual
jealousy, showed itself often the following day.
§ticnon foresaw & quarrel, which, possibly,
might produce some change in her favor, yet
inwardly fearing the crisis that seemed ap-
proaching. The same scene in regard to
eamping was enacted at the close of the second
day, with the same results. Mignon slept, and
was hopeful—more hopeful than at any time
since her abduction.

The morning sun arose with peerless bright-
ness. Nature was glorious in her beauty. The
wide-spreading prairies exhaled life and fra-
granee. The little cantp was astir. Mignor

’ REDPATH, THE AVENGER ; OR,

stood near Brave, with her eyer cursed wir
fully toward the Wind River Monnians, from
which she was daily receding. Cea:d,gne form
get the scenes that had transpired at the feet
of those mighty ranges? Never! They had
impressed their thrilling events upon her soul,
ip apranish there as long as life and memory
astec

Mariot approached. Mignon remarked that
his face wore a gloomy expression. Headley
followed him; both stopped.a few paces drom
hers

“T hope,” she said, addressing Mariot, “that
you have come to tell me that you regret what
you have done?”

“No,” he moodily replied; I only regret
your perverseness.”

“How will you account for your conduct to
my father ?” resumed Mignon. ;

“That need not give you uneasiness,” re
turned Mariot. |’ ‘

“Did the thought ever occur to you, Mon
sieur Mariot, that Redpath may beinear us 2”
inquired Mignon, after a pause. :

“ Diable!” exclaimed Mariot, with a slight
shudder. “¢I wish you would never spéak
that name in)my hearing.”

“Is the dread of that man, then, eo strong
upon you?” she continued.

“You have chosen an inauspidious subject,
mademoiselle!” impatiently rejoined Mariot.

‘Possibly so; but, perhaps, you believe in
omens; »premonitions, and such things?” re«
sumed: Miss Bellmar,: perceiving the theme
annoyed him.

‘lt matters not; it ean make no great dif. ,
ference in our present relations. That IJ. feel
dark within, and an unwonted gloom weighe
heavily upon me, I confess. I wilh ackuow-
ledge even more than this—there is ® vague,
\yet terrible fear of death wpon me!”

Mariot stood with his face to Miguon, his
arms folded on his breast... His eyes were
turned to her, while he spoke, with an expres-
sion that seemed to ask sympathy. At. this
moment, his lips ceased moving, he groaned,
and fell at Mignon’s feet, who, thinking he had
fainted, looked at him with contempt; but
that feeling changed. to absolute awe when she
discovered the shaft of an arrow, the point of
which was lodged in his brain. While she
gazed at this spectacle, so unexpected and se
fearful, a man rushed from a growth of pinon
just behind her, and, embracing her, exclaimed:

“My daughter! my danghter!” ‘

“ My dear father!” eried Mignon, recovering
somewhat from ber bewilderment, and returns
ing his caresses.

“ Beavers and otters!”

Mignon raised her eyes, and saw Brion snd
Buckeye approaching, and held out both
hands to them

“Welcome! most weleome!” pha éxclaimed
with a radiant smile.

  

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

THE FAIR HUNTRESS OF THE SOUTH-WEST.

“Guns and. gunpowder !—the cap’n’s been
most distracted, and gone through all surts of
dangers—twelve fires—three days—roasting—
pine splinters!” added Buckeye, venturing to
touch Mignon’s little hand. ;

“For which he has my eternal gratitude,”
said Monsieur Bellmar.

“ And mine, I am sure,” said Mignon.

“Beard of Smith! he wants more’n that—
he wants you, yourself!” quoth Buckeye,

_ bluntly. t :

“If my father does not say ‘No,’ why—I
think we may possibly arrange it,” said Mig-
non.

“Upon my soul! I believe it’s arranged
already, and very well arranged, too! Diable!

‘this wretched man died suddenly,” added Bell-
mar.

“There’s another that ought to follow him,”
affirmed Buckeye. “Where is the ecretur,; I
wonder ?”

Brion looked around for Headley, but he
had disappeared ; and we will remark here, as
the most appropriate place, that he was never
seen again by any one of the parties; what
became of him is not known.

Awed by the fate of Mariot, disappointed by
the flight of Headley, and convicted of the
error they had committed, the gold-seekere
flocked around the partisan, and manifested
such signs of repentance, and begged so hard
to be received into his band again, that he for-
gave them. The whole party immediately set
out on their return to the encampment at the
canon. The trappers that had started for the
rescue of Brion from the Blackfeet accompa-
nied him to the reseue of Mignon, but were
eoncealed in a wood about haif a mile distant.

While the body of Mariot was being in-
terred, the partisan and Mignon walked alone,
discoursing of recent events. The latter, hear-
ing a sound behind her, turned and beheld
Ruvenclaw. Brion also discovered him at the
same moment. —

“Son of the Buffalo!” said he, calmly, “the
Great Spirit has givén you a charmed life.
You ‘have conquered your enemies ; you have
been as successful in love as on the trail. You
will live many moons, and be happy.”

“Chief of the Blackfoot nation, may you
live longer and be happier than I!” answered
Brion, earnestly

“TI ask not for life,” returned Ravenclaw,

roudly. “The rising and setting of suns can
Sane no joy to the soul of Ravenclaw ; the
‘wpuing and fulling of moons are to him but

THE

'

$
%

meaningless things. But, Son of the Bufalo,
it is different with thee ; thou hast a country,
thou hast Lilyface.”

“J have much to live for,” said Brion.

“Your people are growing in greatness, ©
even as mine are dwindling away,” added
Ravenclaw, sadly. ‘Your nation will goon
flow over these mountains, and my race will
be pressed to the sea. But I shall not live to
see it; I shall have passed to the hunting-
grounds when the white man plants upon the
graves of my fathers.”

“Go with me to the cities of the white
man,” suggested Brion.

“Cursed be the cities of white men!” eried
Ravenclaw.

“ Ravenclaw, you have a noble nature,” said.
Mignon, advancing, and laying her hand on hie
arm. He looked down upon her and smiled.
The sunlight shining upon his lofty brow lent
a strange charm to his face.

“The voice of Lilyface is like the dove,” he
added, softly.

“Tell me,” resumed Mignon, in a low tone,
her hand still upon his arm, “who is Red-
path ?” :

He drew back haughtily, pushing her gently
from him ; his eyes glittered like fire.

“ Lilyface has a short memory ; she has for-
gotten what she heard in yonder mountains.
Redpath is the son of the Eagle, and he seorns
to share his secret with another. Again I say,
I know him not; that to me he is the greatest
of all mysteries—mysterious as the soul within
me. I repeat it—Redpath will live unknown
—he will die high up in the eliffs—no ears
shall hear his passing* thunder—the pale-face
shall never behold his grave. To the great
and awful Master of Life he will commend his
spirit, and pass away as becomes his name and
deeds. Son of the Buffalo, adieu! Lilyface—”
the chief's voice faltered a little—“ Lilyface
farewell, forever!”

Ravenclaw sprang from the rock; his majes-
tie figure was visible: an instant, and then was
hidden from their sight—they saw him ne
more. :

Brion’s trapping campaigns are over. By hit
own fireside he talks with Mignon of Redpath.
Balaam, too, participates in his curiosity., Mig
non grows pensive at the mention of his name,
and is persuaded to this day, that Ravenclaw
and Redpath were one; while Buckeye, in hia
annual vigite to Westport, swears by the “beard
of Smith, wikia vir Migaha says Inust be tune
| ‘

END:

 
 

 
 

 
 

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

 
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Frank Starr's anchibas Nev

100 PAGES OCTAVO, ILLUMINATED COVERS, TEN CENTS EACH!
The Cheapest and Most Popular Books Published!

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See the list.

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No. 182—The Blue Brotherhood ; or, The Young Patroon’s Inheritance.
ton M. Curtis.

Ready Noy. 9th.

By New-

No. 183—The Smuggler; or, The Skipper’s Crime. A Tale of Ship and Shore.

No.
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No.

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186—The Trapper’

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187—Old Tiger, the

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The different nu r bers of this interestin

dealers generally ; or

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2—'The Patriot Scouts.

3—Peleg Smith.

4—The Backwoodsmen.
13—The Jungle Scont.
15—The Red Foe.
28—'The Prairie Pirates.
%—The Free Trappers.
26—The Border Scout,
2i—The Bandit Hermit.
31—Sib Cone, the Trapper.
38—'l'om Hawk, the 4
34—The River Rifles.
35—The Renegade Chief.
39—The Forest Outlaw,
42—'Tom Pintle, the Pilot,
43—The White Warrior.
45—IHam, the Hunter.«
46—The Hunter Guide,
48—Scarlet Moccasin.
49—Mad Anthony's Scouts.
50--The Miner Rangers.
51-~The Cannibal Chief,

railer. |
| 65+The Wood Witch,

| 66—Cloudwood.

. 68—The Indian Scout.

, 69—The Phantom Hunter.
» %2—Weptonomah.

184—The Trail-Hunter ; or, Red Cedar, the, Prairie Outlaw.

é€ Prairies ; or, The Bandit at Bay.

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By Gustave

The Outlaw’s Fate. By Gustave

Heroine of the Mohawk. By Newton M.

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of price, ten cents.

 

_ 52--The Skeleton Scout.
53--Thorn path, the Trailer,

54—The Black Rider.
56—The Valley Scout.

| 57-—-The Black Dwarf.

58—Silent Shot, the Slayer.
59-—Lron Hand, Tory Chiet.
60—The Man-Hunters.
61--The Three Trappers,
62—The Scalpless Hunter.

| 63--Bald Head, the Hunter.

64--The Haunted Hunter,

‘i%-The Secret. Slayer.
76—Rollo, the Boy Ranger.
79—The Red Spy.
82—Montbars, ie Scourge.

' $8—The Tangled Trail.

87—The Wolf-Qneen.

; 106-Cortina, the Scourge.

| 110-Old Ruff, the Trapper.

4 115-Red-knife. Wyandotte.
4), 116-The Boy Pilot.
see117—The Elk Demon.
aas-Crockett, Bear-hunter.

“4t0-'The Phantom Trailer,

Doubdle-hand, Destroyer.
pecasin Bill.
tier Shack.

| 128-Cito, the Creeper.

\ 124-Oufis Jack,
125-Ratiling Dick, Outlaw.
126- Silver Rifle, Girl Trailer,
127%-The Red Prophet.
128-The Antelope Boy.

|. 129-The Specter Horseman,

130-Left-Handed Pete.

131-The Squaw Spy.
132-The Branded Brave,
ee Jack.

134-The Witch Queen.

135-Wolf-Cap.

| 136-The Red Hermftess,

89. The Squaw Gnide.

90. The Skull-Hunter.

92. Delaware Tom.

93. The Girl Avenger.

94. The Wild Horseman.
95—Death-Dealer.
96—The Phantom Rider.
97—The Masked Spy,
98—The Mad Trail-Hunter.
99 —Merciless Matt
101-The Forest. Fiend.
102-Clyde, the Trailer.
103-Kenton, the Ranger.
104—The Hunter Hercules.

107-The Texas Hawks.
108-The Yellow Hunter.

111-Sharp-eye, Sioux Chief. |
112-Phil Hufter, Scourge.
113-Mori, the Man-hunter.
114-The Dog Avenger.

Mammoth Star Novels, 100 Pages Octavo, Mluminated Covers, Ten Cents Each,

138-Kid Kerly, the Trapper. ,
139-The Fighting Trapper.
140-Thayendanegea,
141-Black Horse of Prairies |
142-'he ‘Texan Spy.
143-The Gulf Pirate.
144-Onv-eyed Sim.
145-Old Rube, the Hunter.
146-Doblado, the Outlaw.
147-The Red Warrior.
148-The Son of the Sea.

149-'The Texan Herdsman.
150-Stung Serpent.
151-Scouting Dave,
152-Arkansas Regulators.
153-The Slaver Captain.
154~The Secret Shot.
155-Mike, the Guide.

| 156-Waving Plume,
' Wi-Border Ben.

158-The Black Hunter.

» 159-The Young Ranger.

!

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171-Saui Sabberday, Spy.
172-Prairie Flower,
173-Mountain Max,
174-T'be Silent Rifleman,
1%)-Long-armed Sampson,
176-Red Ralph, the Kanger,
177-The Giaut Trailer.
178-The Doomed Guide.
79-The Ranger’s Rifle.
180-War-Axe,
181-Redpath, the Avenger.

160-Tom Wiley. |
161-Loyal Heart.

162-Old Nick Whiffles.
163-The Gold Guide.
164-The Death Track.
165-The White Wizard.
166-Hirl. the Hunchback.
167-The Tiger Bie
168-Alapaba, the Squaw. =|
169-The Border Bandits. |
170-Assowaum, the Avenger!

The above books are sold by all newsdealers ; or sent, post-paid, on receipt of price—ten cents each.

FRANK STARR & CO., Publishers, 41 Platt St. N. Y,

 

 

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Only the best and most noid |
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