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knife, Buffalo Bill faced White Vulture prepared to fight to death,

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Bill weekly is the only weekly containing the adventures of Buffalo Bill, (Col. W. F. ae who is known all

over the world as the king of scouts.

 

Wo. 212.

NEW YORK, ine 3, 1905.

Price Five Cents.

 

 

OR,

CALIFORNIA JOE TO THE RESCUE.

 

By the author of “BUFFALO BILL”

 

CHAPTER. I.
THE INDIAN CONSPIRACY.

“Dong-ding it, but ba’r meat seems purty hard ter lo-
cate around this hyer section.”

The man who muttered these words to himself was
‘tramping through wooded and mountainous country in

California in the early days when the “forty-niners” were_

still young and vigorous men, and the larger part of the
State was in the possession of wild beasts and Indians,
scarcely less savage.

He had gone out from a camp of hunters and trap-
pers, pitched near the foothills of the Sierra Nevada
Mountains, with the idea of shooting some supper for his
party.

He had a particular desire for here not only on account
of the excellence of bear steak, but because bearskins
fetched a high price in San Francisco, among the people
who had recently “made their pile” at the gold diggings.

The hunter did not look as if he were a man accustomed

to fail in finding his quarry. He seemed to be every inch
an experienced frontiersman. He was about forty years
old, and nearly all of those years had been spent in the
free, open-air life of the West.

He stood over six feet in height, and his frame was
muscular and well knit. His head and shoulders were
covered with a luxuriant growth of curly, black hair; and
a large part of his face was concealed by a long, brown
beard and huge.mustaches. But his eyes were honest,
brave and kindly, though they could grow keen and hard
as steel on occasion.

His appearance did not belie“his great reputation, for
he was none other than California Joe, one of the most
famous scouts in frontier history, and the companion of
Buffalo Bill in some of his most thrilling adventures.

He was dressed in a rough hunting costume of un-
tanned deerskin, with quill-worked Indian leggins, moc-
casins, and a huge sombrero. He carried a long, breech-
loadine Sprinefield musket, for he was an old-fashioned
scout in his ideas and took little stock in the new repeat-

 
 

Then he told his friends of the plot for an Indian al-
liance which he had overheard, and which had made it
necessary for him to slay the Tejons.

' All of them, save Buffalo Bill, thought he ought not to
have risked a fight, but should have shot the Indians down
with his revolver as they sat by the camp fire.

In those days many of the scouts were almost as sav-
age toward the redskins as the latter were to the pale-

faces, and this was not strange in view of the ee
atrocities they had seen committed.

When a man finds the bodies of murdered women and
children hacked to pieces or horribly mutilated, as these
scouts had done more than once in the course of their
frontier experience, he is not likely to feel chivalrous or
merciful toward the perpetrators of such crimes.

They could well appreciate the terrible importance of
the news which California Joe had brought.

Scattered throughout the country, within easy reach
of the allied Indian tribes, were numerous isolated ranches
and lonely mining camps, the inhabitants of which were
practically destitute of all means of defense if attacked by
a large force.

All these would be at the mercy of the redskins unless
they received timely warning, so that they could fly to
points of safety or get together for common defense.

A council of war was speedily held by the scouts in the
party, who numbered seven, besides Cody and California
Joe. |

They agreed at once that they must give up their expe-
dition and abandon all idea of hunting or trapping, de-
voting themselves instead to carrying the news of the
threatened rising far and wide.

It was decided that the party must be broken up that

very night, and that each man should take a different
route, carrying the warning to a different district.

Buffalo Bill speedily mapped it out for them all, so
that no two men would cross the same part of the coun-
try, and all the threatened points would be covered.

There would probably be plenty of time, but they dared.

not delay, for they could not be absolutely sure that the
other tribes would wait for a word from the Tejons
before they opened the fight.

After some discussion, it was agreed that Buffalo. Bill
and California Joe should travel together at their best
speed to San Francisco, whither they would take the news
to the military headquarters, so that an expedition against
the Indians could be arranged for without delay.

This was the most important work of all, and there-
fore it was judged best that two men should go together,
so that if by any chance something should happen to one,
the other could stili go on with the news.

Unfortunately, all the men in the party were on foot,
but early next morning Buffalo Bill and Joe managed to
borrow horses from the first mining camp which they
struck with their thrilling news.

THE BURPALO) BILL STORIES.

They traveled swiftly all day, spreading the warning
whenever they came within easy reach of camps and
ranches, and directing the dwellers there to carry it
further afield.

At night they camped by a seat stream in a thickly

wooded country. They had ridden on until nearly ten

o’clock, and then they found that they must give the
horses a rest if they expected to get eae work out of
them on the following day.

Buffalo Bill reined up his horse in a natural clearing
near by the river, and suggested that they should camp

there for the night.

They had heard the cry of wolves and other animals as
they passed through the timber, and therefore they did not
want to encamp right in the heart of the wood. ,

In a clearing they would have a better chance of de-

fending themselves if they should happen to be attacked

by any wild beasts. They did not expect that they would
be, however, for there was no great scarcity of food in the
forest at that season, and they would, of course, keep up a
good fire. —

While Cody lighted a fire and collected a large quan-
tity of dry sticks and brushwood for the fire, his com-
panion prepared their simple meal of jerked meat and
coffee. They had traveled too fast all day to be able to
waste any time in hunting.

The horses were hobbled by heel ropes near the fire,
and the two scouts agreed to take turns at keeping watch
throughout the night. |

“Maybe we'll have something doing before the night is
over,” said Cody to California Joe, as the latter, having
the second watch, rolled himself in his blanket and lay
down beside the blazing fire to snatch a few hours’ sleep.

Two or three hours later, he awoke with a start, imag-
ining himself in the midst of some horrible nightmare.

He thought he heard all the devils in the bottomless pit
howling over a lost soul, but in a few moments he real-
ized that it was only a chorus of long, agonizing howls
from a pack of wolves.

The fire had burned pretty low, but Buffalo Bill was
piling on fuel with great haste. —

The horses were tugging at their hobbles in panic, and
plunging and kicking in a frenzy of 2s Cold sweat
stood out all over their coats.

Except for the glow cast by the firelight on the ground
and on the leaves of the nearest trees on the edge of the
clearing, everything was as dark as if they were in a sub-
terranean cave. The sky was thickly overcast with clouds,
and not a single star was showing.

California Joe seized his gun and stood ready for de-
fense, as the chorus of horrible yells was repeated, rising
and falling with an uneven cadence.

In a few seconds, as his eyes grew accustomed to the
darkness, he became aware of what his friend had known

’

 

 
 

 

THE BUFFALO

for some little time—that the camp fire was completely
encircled by wolves.

Wherever he looked, he could see the fiery points of
their eyes glancing out of the inky blackness, and could
hear their growls and snarls, as they seemed to be en-
couraging one another to make a dash upon the horses. -

It was the scent of those animals that had aroused their

furious appetites and brought them to the camp, and the
horses seemed-to know this, for their terror increased
every moment.
-s Now and then, a large, shadowy, gray beast would steal
up and almost reach to the heels of the horses, only to
be driven back by the hoofs of the startled animals, which
were lashing out in all directions, or by a blazing stick
hurled at him by Buffalo Buil.

California Joe understood in a moment why his friend
was working so hard over the fire. It refused to burn
up into a roaring blaze, for a good deal of the wood was
green, e

But soon Buffalo Bill discovered a handful of brush-

wood that was as dry as tinder, and he carefully fed it to

the fire, until at last a big tongue of flame licked upward
over the black sticks and speedily broke out into a big
blaze.

Both of the scouts gave an exclamation of relief, and
waited, gun in hand, ready to fire as soon as the wolves
became too threatening.

All of a sudden, one of the horses neighed in pain and
terror, and there was a loud snarl of gratified greed. One
of the largest of the wolves had sprung: upon the hind
quarters of California Joe’s horse and fastened his teeth

in the flesh,
The two scouts rushed forward and began to blaze
away at the beast.

With a yell of pain, it fell to the ground, its head al-
most shot from its body.

The other wolves had rushed forward when they
saw that their comrade had drawn blood, and they were
all around the horses, threatening to tear them down.
But the gallant animals defended themselves with their
hoofs, dashing out the brains ay a couple of the savage
beasts.

Fortunately, the fire blazed up higher than ever at this
critical moment, and the light of the flames, together with
the shots from the rifles and revolvers, drove the wolves
back.

“We've come out all right, so far,” said Buffalo Bill,
looking around anxiously, “but there’s no fuel for the fire
left—only a few sticks. I was just going out to collect
some more when these beasts came down on us and woke
you up.”

“Jumpin’ snakes!” exclaimed California Joe.
we're in a purty tight place, Bill.”

“Then

They were, indeed.
The brush and the logs were bacae brightly and keep-

BIEL DIORIES. . 3 8

ing the wolves at a respectful distance; but the fire would
soon die down and then the beasts would certainly rush
in and make a speedy end of them, however many théy
might shoot before they were torn down.

In the clearing in which they had made their fire, there
was no wood on the ground. The nearest point at which
they could collect it was nearly a hundred yards away,
high up on a bank overlooking the river, near which they
had pitched their camp.

The scouts looked blankly at one another for a mo-
ment, but their stout hearts did not quail even in the face
of this great peril.

They both saw that there was only one thing to be done
if they wanted a chance of life.

However terrible the risk, they must make a rush to the
bank and try to get back to the fire with the fuel they
needed so badly.

“Ready, Joe?” asked Buffalo Bill.

iV es. oe

Both of the men snatched up a burning’brand from the
fire and gripped his revolver tightly in the other hand.
They had reloaded their weapons after the fight round the
horses.

At the top of their speed, they dashed forward up to
the bank, right where the wolves were lurking in the
thickest mass.

As they ran, they waved their torches above their heads,
and most of the beasts fled in terror as they came up.

But three or four, braver or hungrier than the rest,
sprang straight at them.

Buffalo Bill shot the first through the head, and it
dropped with a yelp. of agony.

“California Joe shot another, but a third snapped at his
lez and would have bitten him to the bone had he not
very luckily been wearing a pair of stout leather leggins.

He whirled around and thrust his torch in the beast’s
face, scorching its nose badly and driving it back to the
shelter of the darkness with deafening howls.

Without wasting a moment, Buffalo Bill built up a fire
on the spot they had reached, and had it blazing before
the wolves could summon up courage to return to the at-
tack. .

There was plenty of dry brushwood and other fuel on
the bank, and the wolves were some time before they
drew near again. Then they sneaked up and started to
devour the bodies of their slain comrades.

This feast was only sufficient to whet their appetite, and
soon they began to try ta rush in again at irregular inter-
vals, only to fall before the well-aimed bullets of the
scouts.

So far, all was mel but the other camp fire, from
which they had come, soon began to die down, and un-
less it was built up, the horses would be in great danger.
The scouts must recross the intervening space with a sup-
ply of fuel.

 
6 | THE BUFFALO

This trip except for the fact that there was now an-
other fire to scare the wolves, would be more dangerous
than the former one, for only one man could have his arms

free to fight, while the other must carry an immense bun-

dle of sticks and brush.

California Joe did the latter, while Cody took a torch
in either hand and kept at bay the gray, lean figures
which swarmed hungrily to the attack.

The run was made in safety, but at a frightful risk.
Neither of the scouts, fine though their nerves were, cared
to remember it or talk about it afterward.

When the first fire was again blazing merrily, the worst
of the danger was over. |

The mass of flame on both sides effectually frightened
the wolves to a distance, and they were able to carry
plenty more fuel over without being attacked.

Then they untied the hobbles of the still terrified horses
and tethered them between the two fires in a position that
they felt would be comparatively safe.

The wolves had not retreated altogether.

They had only retired away back into the darkness,
where their presence was revealed every now and then by
a gleaming point of fire that stood for one of their cruel
eyes catching the reflection of the frelight.

f

“Guess they won't come nigh enough ter worty 1 us, SO

said California Joe.
It’s my

long as we keep the fires blazing
“You roll up in yer Dee an’ take a nap, Bill.
turn ter watch.”

Not one man in a hundred would have had the nerve ©

to sleep under such circumstances, but the border king
was the hundredth man. He knew that he could rely on
his comrade to keep a careful watch, and keep the fires
blazing, sc he wrapped himself in his blanket; and in a
few minutes was fast asleep in spite of the snarls and
-yelps that made up an unending chorus only a few hun-
dred yards away.

The wolves still hung around the fires, and did not give
up the siege until shortly before dawn.

Three times they. made an effort to rush in, but Cali-
fornia Joe promptly shot several of them and thereby gave
the remainder a feast that made them less keen on pulling
down their human prey. As their appetites were satis-
fied, their courage slackened, and a final charge of the
scouts about four o’clock in the morning drove them in a
headlong and final retreat.

Two days later, Buffalo Bill and California Joe rode
into the streets of San Francisco, at that time little better
than a board-and-canvas town. It was a typical mining
settlement, only upon a much larger scale than the rest.

Saloons and dance halls were to be seen in great num-
bers on both sides of the main streets. They were evi-
dently well patronized, for the men who supported them
even overflowed onto the sidewalk and gambled and drank
at tables placed out in the open street.

¥

BILL STORIES.

‘T ooks like a sort of a wide open town, eh, Buffler?”

said Joe.

Cody had never been in San Francisco before, and he
was astonished at the sights he saw.

“T reckon there are some tough citizens here,”
marked. /

“Vo’ bet your life!”

The two scouts hastened to the military headquarters of
the Department of California, which had already been
established at San Francisco, even at that early date.

The general in command received their news with the
deepest interest, and said he would at once take steps to
defend the outlying settlements and send flying columns
of troops into the Indians’ territory, in readiness to take
the field against the redskins immediately they asstimed
the offensive.

“I shudder to think what might have happened if you
had not discovered the Indians’ conspiracy, and taken such
prompt measures to guard against it,” said the old officer,
who had had experience of Indian warfare for more than
thirty years. .

“The settlers and the mining camps would have been at
the mercy of the ruthless redskins. Now that your friends
have gone to warn them, it will be their own fault if they
do not seek a place of safety before the storm bursts.”

“T guess that most of them will do so,” said Cody.

“But there is one thing that makes me mad,” the old
general went on, “and that is the great quantity of arms
which the redskins have been allowed to get.

“There are at least a dozen traders in San Francisco
and the outside settlements who have been doing nothing
else for the past two or three years but supplying the
Indians with guns and ammunition. It is a crime against

he re-

S\

. Civilization, and eo the men who have been doing it have

been white men.’

“Surely there was some way to stop them?’ said Buffaio
Bill.

“You would think so, and you may be sure that I have
done my best, for I knew that the traffic would cost the
lives of my soldiers some day. But, as a matter of fact,
there was no way.

‘T arrested the men when I was first put in charge of —

this department, and hoped to send them to prison for long
terms. But the villains protested that it was a lawful
trade, as the Indians were at peace with the whites, and
therefore they were entitled to buy guns for their oe
if they chose to pay for them.

“The officials at Washington agreed with this view
when the matter was brought before them, for, of course,

_ they know nothing about the ‘noble red man’ as he really

is. I protested again and again, but it was no use. The
wretches have been going on with their rascally traffic
ever since, and now we shall feel the effects of it when we
get out against the Indians.”

“I’d like ter happen across a few o’ those gol-durned

 

 

Cy

rey

 
VMS eet et Ut

_ cusses who sold the guns ter the Injuns,”
| Joe, grimly.

THE BUFFALO
said California

“T wish you could,” remarked the general, smiling, as

. he glanced at the scout’s athletic frame and stern

 

features. “I reckon they would feel pretty sorry for
themselves when you had got through with them.”
“Jest give me five minutes—that’s air od bry fer,”
said California Joe.
Buffalo Bill made no remark, but his face was set in

stern lines, and it was apparent that the scoundrels who |

carried on this nefarious traffic would fare as badly in his
hands as in those of his comrade-—if not worse.
YO. See, ee we fellers hev seen what Injun fightin’

means, and we're yee natchrally dead sore on ay cuss »

who goes an’ sells °em™ guns ter kill women an’ chil:
dren, as well as men, with.”

“That is exactly my point of view, too,” replied the
general. “Then perhaps I can rely on you to take part
in the campaign and accompany the columns of troops as
scouts ?”’

Both of the men said that that was exactly what they
were hoping to do.

The general asked them to report for service on the
following morning.

Promising to do so, they left his quarters and went out
to see the town and make. the needful preparations for a
period of hard work in the field.

 

CHAPTER III.

CUTTING THE COMB OF TULARI NED.

After they had made some purchases of ammunition for
their rifles and revolvers, and bought a couple of horses to
replace those which they would have to return to the
mining camp from which they had borrowed them, the
scouts walked into a tough-looking saloon.

They were neither of them hard drinking men—for in
their life they needed to keep their nerves in the best
possible condition—but they wanted to see what the life of
the town was. like, and the saloons were evidently the
favorite resorts of all classes, at that stage of ’Frisco’s

Sor

_ They sat down at a table and ticked a couple of cigars
quietly.

A group of men, dressed in the rough, garb of miners,
were noisily playing a game of poker at the next table,
and from time to time they cast glances at the scouts,
evidently wondering who they were and what they wanted
in a place with which they were plainly not familiar, and
in which their quiet manner contrasted forcibly with that
of the regular patrons, wae were all rowdy and oe
some.

After a phe one of the men at the table—a vee red-
bearded giant, who wore a red shirt, a pair of leather

BILL STORIES. | 7

trousers, and heavy riding boots—got up and approached
them.

“Say, strangers!’ hé shouted, “You seem thunderin’
poor company! Why don’t you join in with the rest of
the boys? This is my lucky day. I’ve just come in from
the country, and I made a pile o’ dough out there, I can
tell you. Now I’m just rakin’ in all the chips at this
poker game. All the boys are drinkin’ with me. What
are ye having? Nominate your pizen!”

The scouts did not like the look or the manner of the
man. They also-.felt that it would be better for them not
to drink in view of the important work-they would have to
take up on the following day—work that would require
the clearest of clear heads. So they politely declined the
man’s offer.

“What?” he yelled, in a voice like the bellow of a bull.
“You won’t drink? It’s the first time anybody’s refused
to liquor up with Tulari Ned. Durn my hide if I ever
let anybody do it! Just say what yell take. Every-
body’s got to drink with me to-day.”- :

“Nevertheless, you must excuse 8,’
quietly but firmly.

A wicked took carne into the eyes of the man who called

’ said Buffalo Bill,

himself Tulari Ned.

He was evidently a bully of the first water, and was not
accustomed to meet with opposition.

The other men had by this time risen from the card
table, and gathered around, breathless with expectation, to
see what would happen next.

- The bully clinched his fist and was about to atrilce Cody
between the eyes. e

The scout did not rise from his chair or move a mausele,
but he gave Tulari Ned a look which warned him that he
had better not touch him or interfere with him any further,
unless he was prepared for one of the worst fights of his
life. | ;

Tulari Ned was no fool.
pi

He halted for a moment, irresolutely, gazing into the
eyes of the border king. Then his own fell, and he
dropped his fist. He turned’away, with a muttered curse,
and returned to the poker table, ee his companions

He knew how to size a man

that he “didn’t want to make a row.

The scouts went on smoking their cigars in silence after
this interruption, for some few minutes. Then Cody
turned round and watched the game of poker, in which
he was an expert.

It had reached an exciting point. The red-bearded man
who called himself Tulari Ned had been winning heavily,
and the other men had raised the limit and staked large
amounts in the hope of getting back what they had lost.

A lot of money and gold dust was put into the “pot,”
and then it came to a “show down,”

“What yer got?” growled the red beard. |

“Pair o’ kings,” said the first man.

Waa

 
8 ? THE BUFFALO

“Guess your name’s mud, then. You're out of it, sure.”

“Three tens,’ announced the next man.

“T kin beat that,’ said another, and he showed his
hand. “See, here’s a full house—three jacks and a al
of deuces.”

“I’ve got you all skinned to death,” cried Tulari Ned.

“My full hoyse beats his. a a pair of aces and three
~ queens. I take the pot again.”

He reached forward for it, but his wrist was eee in
the iron hand of the king of the scouts.

“No, you don’t,” said Cody. “I’ve a word to say about
that.”

“An’ me, too!” exclaimed California Joe, ae him-
self alongside Tulari Ned, with his hand gripping the re-
volver in his belt.

The gamblers were amazed at this sudden interruption,
but the red-bearded giant, although he strove to appear
merely angry, could not keep a lurking look of terror out
of his eyes.

“What's the matter, stranger?” asked the man who had
held the other full house.

“Simply that this man has been cheating. You must
have been blind not to see it. My friend and I spotted
him in a moment, for he’s pretty clumsy in his methods.
He had a three instead of one of those two aces. He took
the ace out of the pack on the table while you were all
looking at your cards, and put the three in his pocket.’

“It’s an infernal lie!” blustered the red-bearded giant.

For answer, Buffalo Bill swiftly put his hand into the
man’s pocket and drew out a card. It was the three of
spades !

Tulari Ned, his face convulsed with rage and fear,
tried to struggle to his feet and draw his gun, but he was
gripped tightly by Cody and California Joe, and was as
helpless as a baby in their hands.

The men with whom he had been playing were wild
with rage.

“Let’s lynch the thief!” cried one of them. ‘This is

how he has always managed to win our money all these

months, I guess.”

At this moment a posse of sheriff’s deputies, attracted
by the row, rushed into the saloon.

Cody turned over the prisoner to them, just in time to
save him from being almost beaten to death by the men’
whom he had been swindling. 7

“Tl get even with you yet!’ shrieked the ruffian, as he

was dragged out of the door, wrenching an arm free and
shaking his fist at the border king.

Buffalo Bill simply smiled at the threat, but it was the
prelude to a feud that narrowly cost him his life.

The scouts left the saloon and watched the man being
dragged up the street, cursing and swearing. His

strength was so great that it took three men to master him,
even though the deputies had slipped handcuffs over his
wrists.

   

BILL STORIES:

“Gol-durn him, he’s a tough cuss, Buffler!” said Cali-
fornia Joe, unwillingly admiring the giant’s tremendous
strength and fighting powers. “Guess you'd better look
out fer him if he gets loose. I never saw a man look
madder than he looked at you.”

“Oh, I guess I can manage to keep up my end of the
game if we ever meet again,” laughed the king of the
scouts. ‘He struck me as the kind of man who wouldn’t
fight unless he couldn’t help it. I guess he’s an almighty
big bluffer, like most of these bullies.”

 

?

: CHAPTER TV,
THE MAN WHO WOULD BE A LIAR,

The two scouts were invited to dine that evening at the
mess of the officers of one of the regiments stationed in
the town.

After dinner, over the cigars and wine, many good
stories were told, but by common consent the palm was
awarded to one which was related by Buffalo Bill.

‘This happened in a settlement not so far from ’Frisco,”
he said. “There was a man who lived there named
Abijah Potts, and he prided himself more than anything
else on his skill as a liar.

“One day he went into the store where he used to spend
most of his time whittling wood, and his attention was
called to the inquisitive stare of a stranger, who had come
in from another settlement near by.

“The stranger sat for some time in the store, looking at
Abijah as if he were a freak in a dime museum. He
looked so humble and lonesome and inoffensive that
Abijah did not resent his curiosity, as he might have done
that of another man. He merely said, after a while:

“ ‘Say, stranger, might you have lost your only parent
lately ?”

OND, Site

“Your beloved great-aunt doesn’t happen to have
greased out?’

(Nay, nay. |

“*You are not suffering any terrible internal pains?’

“ “My health was never better, thank you.’

““Have you got hold of the short end of a mining deal?’

“*T have not invested a cent in mines.’

““Then what in thunder are you looking so miserable
about?’ asked Abijah, gazing at him curiously.

““My name is Jeruiah Dobbs,’ said the stranger, ‘but
down at Silver Flats, where I live, they have a habit of
calling me Melancholy Mose, because of the pained look
which I habitually wear. What worries me is the sense of

_ my own unfitness, my own incapacity.’

“Ts that so?’ said Abijah, sympathetically. ‘And what
might you want to excel in, stranger ?’

““T have an ambition to become a first-class liar. I was
told over at the Flats that you are the champion liar of the

State of California, and I came along to see if you would

 

   

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ia

THE BUFFALO BILE STORIES. - 9

be willing to give me a few pointers. I am here, but I
feel that I can never, never hope to become a real good
liar, My best efforts, so far, have been miserable
failures.’ i

sDormt despair, ne said Abijah, kindly.
you had much practice in lying?’

“Tove had “practice enough, but I never managed to
make much of a fist at it, I just tell small, mean lies with
no real art inthem. For example, I run out of nights and
lie to my wife about it. I’ve got a dog, and I lie about
the number of fights he has won. I drove a commissariat
wagon in the Civil War, and I lie about the number of
men I killed. I guess you would call that a pretty com-
mon brand of lying, wouldn’t you?’

““Mighty common!’ replied Abijah, scornfully. ‘Sorter
mean‘and ornary. No such liar as that could get into
society here.

‘Have

ay It needs natural taleut, or very careful train-
ing.’ -
““How would you advise me to learn?’ asked Jeruiah.
“Well, now, what. was the biggest lie you ever told?’
““One about killing coons,. I told the boys I killed

forty-seven in one day when I lived in Tennessee, and it

was one of my unlucky days at that.’

“ “That yarn might make a sensation in Silver Flats, but
it wouldn’t even be considered a lapse of memory in this
town. You'd have to make it eighty coons, and throw in

about a dozen possums before you would even get us to

listen to you, and we should think it a pretty poor lie at
that. Say, have you got the gift of the gab?’

“7 Yes, Vimea pretty tair talker,’

“Then there’s hope for you. Can you shed tears when

_ you’re telling a pathetic lie?’.

“‘T’ve never tried, but I guess I could.’

“‘And can you look a man straight in the eyes when
you are getting out a whopper?’

“ ‘Surest thing you know. I have looked my wife right
out of countenance when I’ve been telling her my biggest
kind of lie. D’ye think there’s any chance of my be-
coming a really artistic fabricator ?’

“‘There might be, and then again there mightn’t, re-
plied Abijah, after some thought. ‘Liars have to de-
velop, just the same as orators and statesmen.
never get. beyond lying about ordinary things, and others
go right to the front and make glorious reputations. If
you was really thinking of experimenting, maybe I could
ae you a little.’

““T£ you only would, ld he real erateful.. I’m given to
understand you're ae finest liar on the whole Pacific
Coast.’

“I don’t claim that, stranger,’ replied Abijah,
modestly. ‘But I will say I’m one of the oldest and
slickest in this town. In my own special line, which is
lying about grasshoppers, 1 haven’t got a rival. I chal-

[ll tell you.

We keep the standard way above that.
Any man can be a liar, but a champion liar is a different

Some.

lenge competition and defy criticism, so far as grass-
hoppers are concerned! If you want a few lessons, I'll
give ’em to you at a dollar apiece”

“*That’s a low price, and a great condescension on
your part. I’ll be glad to take ’em. I think I’ll take six
lessons and see how the thing works. I’d like to have
them all on grasshoppers, too. Do you know, I’m very
much interested in those beasts? I heard a curious thing
about them which made me want to learn more.’

“ “Indeed, and what was that?’ asked Abijah.

“ ‘A naturalist—one of those crazy cusses who go round
collecting bugs—told me But, there, I don’t think
I’m afraid you wouldn't believe me.’

“The stranger checked himself, but Abijah’s interest
was keenly aroused. He asked him to go on and tell what
he had heard, but he had to coax for fully ten minutes De-
fore Jeruiah would consent to do so.

“Well, he said, finally, ‘seeing that you were the first
man to speak a kind word to me in this strange town, I
don’t mind if I do tell you; though it’s not a thing I would
tell to everybody. Did you ever hear that grasshoppers
just dote on music?’

“No, I never did.’

eek thouent ct. But it’s. aidact) none,the less, it
was discovered by accident by this bug hunter that I was
telling you about, and I don’t think he has. published it as
yet. They are just rampageous about music. There’s a
fortune in it if you could train their taste and then take
’em round the country on exhibition. Just think of it,
stranger—the troupe of educated grasshoppers who can
distinguish poor music from grand opera.’

““VYou don’t say!’ gasped Abijah. “And what sort of
music is it that grasshoppers are crazy about?’

 

“Oh, anything that’s music, so far as I can make out.
They like a mouth organ, a fiddle, or a jew’s-harp. I’ve
warbled to ‘em, and they just sat up and purred, though
men are in the habit of getting out their guns when I| be-
gin to sing. I think that shows that the grasshoppers
have the better taste. Do you play on anything?’

“‘Sure. I can grind out “Poor Old Joe” on the trom-
bone.’ '

““Then, man, your fortune is made. The grasshoppers
will come swarming around you by the million as soon as
you have played the first few bars. You can collect them
and sell them, and in a short time you'll have made
enough money to own town lots in every part of the State.’

“What do you mean?’ cried the astounded Abijah.
‘Who is crazy enough to pay good, hard dollars for grass-
hoppers ?”
looking him

‘Not «crazy at/all, replied Jeruiah,

- steadily in the eye and speaking with measured calmness. |

‘Do you mean to say that you haven't heard that grass-

‘hoppers are shipped to ‘Frisco now by the wagon load:

and ground up into cakes to be sent to China? The

 
 

TO): THE BUFFALO
heathen Chinee just loves to eat them, He thinks they
are better food than birds’ nests or sharks’ fins.’

“You don’t say! And what do they pay for ‘em in
"Frisco ?”

““Bive dollars a hare at the lowest quotation. Of
course, it wouldn’t pay if you had to go round catching
‘em singly, but when you allure them with music and
they come simply pouring into your open barrel, there
are millions in it—millions of dollars and millions of
millions of grasshoppers.’

“Say, stranger, if there’s so much money it it, why
don’t you do it yourself, and make your own fortune?’ said
Abijah, suspiciously,

““T have no desire for money,’ fooled the man from
Silver Flats, with a melancholy sigh. ‘My only ambition
is fo become a goed liar-—something faintly approaching
you.’

“Oh, I’m afraid you can never be that,’ said Abijah,
confidently. “But tell me, when is a good time to play to
the grasshoppers? Couldn’t I get my trombone and go
out after them right away?”

“«By no means. You must do your catching at night.
Their musical ear is much more acute then. You put five
empty barrels out in the field—-I guess five’ll be enough
to start on, but you will soon be able to fill fifty in a night
just as easily—and then you hide behind ‘em and play
your trombone. The ’hoppers will soon come whizzing
around and fill your barrels in an hour ortwo. You see if
they don’t.’

“Tt sounds like finding money in the street,’ said
Abijah.
“So it is. When the barrels are chock full, you just

clap the heads on them, pile ’em in your wagon, tote ’em
to Frisco, and draw your money. The only really hard
part of the business is spending the money—you get so
much of it.’ :

“This talk sounded good to Abijah. He had never
heard that grasshoppers had souls, musical or otherwise;
but he had heard of music soothing the savage beast, and
if it soothed the savage beast, why shouldn’t it soothe the
mild grasshopper ?

“He said he would try his luck that very night, and if it
turned out as well as he expected, he would spend half his
time for a week in teaching the stranger the trombone out
of gratitude, and the rest of the time he nous devote to
ensnaring the Be

“*That’s good of you,’ said Jeruiah, ‘but I have really

no wish to ene money. Now, if I could only become a

good liar

 

“He paused and sighed, as if words failed him.

“Abijah went home to get his barrels ready, and when
he was safely out of the way the stranger went to the
grocery store, the two local saloons, and every other place
of public resort in the place.

“To every man who asked why he looked so sad —and

“eot,

BILL STORIES.

almost everybody in town did so—he confided his desire to
become a good liar, and then artfully led the conversation
round to the musical tastes of grasshoppers, and the easy
money that could be made out of catering to those tastes.

“He looked so innocent and earnest that everybody be-
lieved him. .

“The result was that there was an unprecedented run
upon all sorts of musical instruments, Only one store
in the town kept them, and the storekeeper never did so
much business in his life before as he did that afternoon.
He had visions of making his fortune and going East to
live like a millionaire. Anything that would.play a tune,
from a mouth organ to a piano, was in demand at Fancy
prices.

“As each purchaser came in, trying to look innocent, he
would say something like this:

‘Pye been promising my boy a mouth organ for a long
time, and I guess it’s up to me to get one for him,’

Or:

“The old woman eal give me any peace until I
bring her home a fiddlegso I guess Ill see what you’ve
“Every man imagined himself to be the only one to
whom the stranger from Silver Flats had told his great
secret, for Jeruiah had been careful to impress on each one
of them that he must be careful not to talk about it, or
there would be such a flood of grasshoppers going into
Frisco that the price would be sure to fall,

“When evening came, Jeruiah prowled around the out-
skirts of the settlement, and found that things were
coming out exactly as he had foreseen.

“The men began to wander out of the village by all
roads soon after sunset to try the experiment with the
musical grasshoppers.

“Some of them were carrying their barrels along with
them, and others had sent them on ahead. Presently
music—or what passed for such—-was heard all over the
country side. :

“From every field ae Hh: there came the strains
of some popular tune, played on the banjo, the fiddle, the
accordion, the trombone, the cornet, the flute, ane a score
of other instruments.

“After blowing for an hour or so without luring a

_ single “hopper into their barrels, most of the men sus-

pected that they had been fooled, and sneaked back home
quietly, trying to get indoors without their wives or
neighbors seeing them and wanting to know what they

had been up to.

“But old Abijah was a man of greater sheaney than
the rest.

“He stuck it out till nearly ten o’clock, and played every-
thing he could think of, from ‘Massa’s in the Cold, Cold
Ground’ to ‘The Star Spangled Banner,’

“Not a single grasshopper pespondes to his strains, oan
ever. The only result was to start all the mules and

 
RSE ED spe:

 

 

WHE BURPALO BIELOSTORIES,. ~ ie 11

horses within hearing neighing and whinnying in sym-
pathy with the music.

“At last, even he was obliged to give up the job in dis-
gust, after jumping on his barrels and smashing them in
his rage.

“As he left the field, he was stealthily followed at a safe
distance by the stranger from Silver Flats, who had been
watching him from the other end of the pasture, lying in
the grass and placidly smoking a corncob pipe.

“Old Abijah felt that he needed a drink badly, so he
went to the chief saloon in the place and took a ‘three-
finger nip’ of whisky.

“The bar was full of his neighbors and friends, but not
one of them asked him where he had been.
taken part in the open-air concert themselves, and were
not in a position to throw stones at him. °

“They looked very sheepish and had little to say to one
another. Not a man mentioned grasshoppers or spoke of
the stranger who had arrived in town that day. They

made remarks about the weather, and guessed it might

7

rain to-morrow.

“As Abijah was gloomily drinking his whisky, fhe sad-
faced Jeruiah entered the bar and ordered a drink. .

“He sipped it slowly and looked inquiringly around the
room, but, though everybody looked daggers at him, no-
body had anything to say. No man was anxious to give
himself away in front of the rest.

““T was thinking, gentlemen,’ said the stranger, present-
ly, looking up at the ceiling and addressing nobody in
particular, ‘that the grasshopper is one of the noblest and

most intelligent insects known to man.’

_ “The men glared, but none of them felt called upon to
reply. of

“Tf T were a man of a grasping, money-making nature,
I think I would cultivate the grasshopper’s remarkable
musical instinct. But it so happens that I care nothing
for money. My only ambition is to peconk a first-class
liar: Alas! I fear that 1 shall never———

“This was too much. The sentence was never finished.

“With a roar of rage, every man in the room rose and —

made a dash at the mournful stranger, led by old Abijah.

“If they had got hold of him, tar and feathers would
have been the least he could have expected.

“But he had been careful to take up a strategic position
near the door before he began to rub salt on their
wounded pride.

“With one leap he was outside the door, and with an-
other he was on the back of his waiting horse.

“When the men poured out of the saloon, swearing like
troopers, they saw him galloping away down the street
on his way home to Silver Flats.

“He took off his hat and bowed ironically to them, but
though they pursued him at top speed for a few hundred
yards, his fleet steed soon left them far behind.”

They had

CRAP TER: \V.
AGAINST GREAT ODDS.

Early next morning the scouts reported at military
headquarters and found the general busily preparing his
plans for an energetic campaign against the Indians as
soon as they showed an intention to fight.

He intended, he said, to operate against their villages
with two strong columns, one of which he would com-
mand in person, and he hoped to give them such a stern
lesson that they would be willing to keep the hatchet
buried for many a long year to come.

“If only the redskins were not so well armed, I would
be less anxious,” he sighed. “It is not so much the lives
of my men that I am thinking of. They are soldiers and
can take their chance, though it is hard that they should
lose their lives through the traitorous greed of their own
countrymen.

But d am thinking most of the unfortunate settlers who —
may not be able to get to a place of safety before the red-
skins go on the warpath. If the enemy. had only bows

and arrows, two or three men in a log house might be able -

to stand them off until help arrived, but when they have
rifles it is a different proposition. :

“And to make it worse, I heard only just now that
Tulari Ned has been making a trip to the Tejon vil-
lages and selling the braves hundreds of a No doubt
they have been buying them for this very war,’

“Tulari Ned!” exclaimed Cody and California if in
one breath.

“Yes. Do you know him? He is the worst of these
rascals who sell arms to the Indians. If I could have
had my way, I would have strung him up at the end of a
rope long ago. But, as I told you, my hands were tied

by the‘authorities at Washington.”

“T should rather think we do know him,” the border
king replied, and he told the general about the episode in
the saloon on the preceding day.

“T only wish we had known this about him then,” he
concluded. “We would have taken care that he did not
escape so easily.”

The general was evidently disturbed by the news. He
walked up and down the room two or three times, his
brow knitted in anxious thought.

“T did not know the man was in the town,” he said at.
length, “I thought he was still out in the Indian country.
As soon as I heard your news I took steps to have all
these scoundrels who have been selling arms to the Indians
put under close observation. I thought that such men
would even be capable of warning the redskins that we
were getting ready for them. )

“Of course, the news is all over town now, for it was
impossible to keep our preparations secret. I have fixed
it so that if any one of these men tries to leave town and
head for the Indian country, he will be immediately fol-
lowed and brought back to suffer the fate of a spy. But

 
 

12 THE BUFFALO

I confess I have done nothing in regard to Tulari Ned,
and unfortunately he is the very worst of the bunch.”
“But you can lay your hands on him easily enough,

general,” said Buffalo Bill. “He was arrested by the
sheriff’s deputies, and I suppose he is in jail.”

“We can see,” replied the general, ringing a bell for his
orderly. “But I fear he is not. You see, cheating at
cards, although a mortal and social crime, does not happen
to be a criminal offense. I doubt very much whether they
would hold him for it. If he has been allowed to go, and
has heard the news—which is almost certain, as it is all
over town—I expect he is already on his way to the In-
dians. He knows they would pay him well for giving
them such a warning.”

The orderly entered and stood at attention.

The general sat down at his desk and hastily eeribb ick a
note, which he handed to the man.

“Take that to the jail as autelly as you can, and give it
to the warden in charge,” he ordered. “Don’t lose a
second,”

The orderly left the room on the run.

“I have told the people at the prison to detain Tulari
Ned, no matter what orders have been issued to let him
go,” he explained.

But it was too late.

In about a ee of an hour the orderly came back
with a note.

The general tore it open eagerly and scanned its con-
Tents.c7

sone he exclaimed, with a cry of vexation. “They
let him out last night. No doubt he is far enough away
by now. The’ warden explains that as the man was not-
accused of any crime known to the law, he could not hold
him.”

Turning to the orderly, he-sent him for one of the
officers of his staff. When the officer arrived, he ordered
him to take a file of men and search the:town thoroughly
for Tulari Ned and arrest him on sight,

Later in the day, the officer returned and reported that
the man had left ’Frisco.
on the previous evening.

Cody and his comrade volunteered to’trail him and try
to catch him before he reached his destination.

The general thanked them for the offer, but would not
accept it, much as they urged him to do so.
'“T have other work for you to do,” he said. “I will
send a party of my best troopers after this man, but I fear
they will hardly catch him now.

“Meanwhile, we will assume that the war has already
begun, and move the columns at once into the Indian
country. I would like you to come with my column,”
‘turning to California Joe, “and 1 would like you to go
with the other force, which is to be commanded by Gen.
Smith,” he added to Buffalo Bill.

The-scouts were sorry to separate, but although they

He had been seen riding out

 

BILL STORIES.

were not soldiers, they had sufficient sense of discipline not
to raise any objections. They knew very well that if both
went with the same column, their work would largely be
duplicated.

The general was aware that they were both splendid
scouts, but he had picked out Buffalo Bill as the better of
the two. Therefore he had assigned him to the column of
his subordinate, Gen. Smith. That officer had not had a
wide experience of Indian warfare, such as he had him-
self enjoyed, and therefore he would need the best pos-
sible man at his elbow.

 

CHAPTER Vi.
THE FAITHFUL SENTRIES.

The column to which Buffalo Bill was attached con-
sisted entirely of cavalry, and for over a week it journeyed
toward the principal. village of the Arapahoes without
encountering any Indians.

Reports of outrages were brought in, however, by
settlers who had fled from their homes with their wives
and families, just in time to escape the war patties which
were said to be roaming all over the country.

The Indians had been quick to dig up the hatchet, and
it was evident to Buffalo Bill that Tulari Ned had done
his evil work only too well, He promised himself that he
would put a bullet through the scoundrel’s head if only he
could get the chance, as

This resolve was strengthened on the eighth Vy that
he was out with the expedition.

As the column was moving over a grass-covered plain,
one of the troopers, who was scouting ahead, uttered a
yell of horror. :

Spurring his horse to the spot where the man_ had
halted, Buffalo Bill saw him staring down into the long
grass, with a face the color of chalk. :

The border king looked down, and even he, accustomed
as he was to the horrors of Indian warfare, could hardly
repress a cry.

Half hidden in the grass were the mangled bodies of
fourteen white men and three women. They had been
scalped, and their bodies almost hacked to pieces with
knives and tomahawks. Each body was pierced with
many arrows.

It was evident that there had been a hard fight before
the men succumbed to the overwhelming numbers of their
foes, for the ground all around was littered with empty
cartridge cases and the grass was trampled down.

There was a great deal of blood staining the grass at
some distance from the spot where the bodies lay, which
suggested that several of the Indians had been shot,
though their comrades, in accordance with their usual cus-
tom, had either taken away their bodies or buried them.

As the column came up and saw the bodies, the men
broke out into cries of grief .and rage, swearing that they.

 
Oe ood. hy) pel ee OE Ae

-we might lure them on to attack us.
column could follow behind at, say, half a day’s journey,

 

©

THE BUFFALO BILE STORIES, =

would show no mercy to any redskins who might happen
to fall into their hands.

Buffalo Bill said Bonney, though his. face spoke
volumes.

He dismounted from his horse ae examined the bodies
carefully.

“Thank God, all he men died fighting !’’ he said, when
he arose from this grewsome task. ‘And they shot the
women, too,’ he added. “They did not leave them to fall
into the hands of the redskins—a fate that would have
been infinitely worse than death.”

The tracks in the prairie told the story plainly enough.

The little party had fled on horseback, but had been
overtaken by a band of redskins outnumbering them by
at least ten to one.

A gallant fight had been le but it was hopeless from
the start. After the Indians had taken the scalps, they
had departed with the horses and rifles belonging to the
murdered party.

The bodies were reverently buried, and then the column
proceeded on its march.

That night, after the men had bivouacked and ae
their dinner, the general in command summoned Buffalo
Bill to take part in a council of war.

“We shall never catch the Indians at this rate,” said
the general, opening the discussion. “It is necessary to
strike a hard and quick blow at them. They can easily re-

treat before such a large column as we have got here, for

‘it must necessarily move slowly.”

“You ate right, sir,’ said Cody. “We shall never catch
them while we keep to these tactics, and when we reach

_. their villages we shall probably find them deserted, except

by a few old men and women, who cannot travel and have
been left there to die.” _

“What would you suggest ?”

“TI think it would be a good idea to send a flying squad-
ron on ahead. Pick out the men who are best mounted.
They could travel at a much greater rate and take no bag-
gage to encumber them, except what they could carry on
their horses without weighting the beasts down too much.

“By this means we could scout after the Indians, and
The rest of the

and it would be strange if we could not hold out, how-
ever strong fe enemy, until we were re-enforced by

theim.”’ -

“Good!” said the general, emphatically. vy detach
about a hundred men and take command of them my-
self. I think we'll get hold of the red devils by this
means. What course do you think we had better take?’

“As we are going,” replied Buffalo Bill. “We will
shape our direction for their village. They have probably
deserted it already, but they will expect us to head that
way. They are probably noi very far off, waiting their

=

chance to attack us, as S008 as they think they can ia 80
with some hope of success.’

Guided by Cody and a young Pawnee brave named Red
Knife, who had accompanied the general on several of his
military expeditions, the party started early in the morn-
ing, all well mounted and equipped.

“Do you think that we can trust Red Knife?” asked the
general soon after the start, pushing his horse alongside
that ridden by Buffalo Bill.

“Why not?” said the king of the scouts.
always found him trustworthy, have you not?”

“Ves, but I wondered whether he might not be in sym-
pathy with the enemy, as he is a redskin himself,”
There is no reason to fear that. The Pawnees have
never been friendly to these tribes. They have no reason
to care for them. I have heard a good deal about this
young brave, and it is all to his advdntage. He seems to
me the kind of man who would. oe be false to his salt; I
would trust him if I were you.”

The general was soon to see that Buffalo Bill was as
correct as usual in his estimate of the redskin’s character.
Red Knife was to prove his loyalty with his life’s blood.

A few hours after they had left the camp, the Pawnee,
who was riding in advance of the little column, pulled up
his horse and dismounted. With a wave of his arm, he
called Buffalo Bill to his side, and pointed to some fresh
Indian tracks in the grass.

“This Tejon—this Tulari—this Arapahoe,”
pointing to different footprints.

The king of the scouts looked and saw that he was
right. Their foes, as usual, were in company. The three
tribes were Coane together, even in their smallest ex-
peditions.

The two men carefully examined the tracks, and soon
discovered that a small party of Indians had been scouting
around the vicinity of the camp on the previous night, and
had retreated—no doubt after they had found out all they
wanted to know about the strength of the force—going in
the direction in which the little party was traveling.

“You have

he said,

They were evidently going to rejoin their main body and
tell what they had discovered.

There was no occasion for alarm or even for surprise,
for it was only what Buffalo Bill had expected to find.
He had not supposed for a moment that the Indians would
remain inactive, patiently waiting until they were at-
tacked. He was, indeed, glad to find that he had foemen
worthy of his craft.

The hostile party of whose presence they had thus be-
come aware was found to number only twenty braves, and —
as the general’s command consisted of about a hundred
men, there was no reason to fear the result of an en-
counter, if they should be lucky enough to catch up with
the prowlers of the previous night.

As they followed the trail Buffalo Bill and Red Knife
saw with satisfaction that it led them in the very direction ©

 
 

14 THE BUFFALO
they had been proposing to take, thus proving that their
original guess at the location of the Indian army was a
correct one.

The column wound its. way rapldly over steep, rock-
ribbed hills, down timbered valleys, and over grassy
plains, without meeting with any adventures worthy of
note.

Every now and then, they hit the trail of the twenty
redskins who had been prowling round the camp, for they
had not taken as much care as usual to hide their tracks—
no doubt because they expected to take the offensive
against the palefaces before long.

Presently the expedition reached a ‘beautiful valley,
through which there ran a crystal oe ‘ributary of
the Sacramento.

As they had been riding since early morning, and it
was now late in the afternoon, the general decided that
this would be a good place in which to encamp for the
night. There were several fine shade trees near the
river bank, and beneath these the horses were picketed
and camp fires lit by the men.

Sentries were placed around the horses, by the advice of
Cody, who knew full well how fond the Indians were of
stampeding them when they were on the warpath.

He also posted half a dozen pickets in the open plain
beyond the valley and on the bluffs above, so that they

could give timely notice of the approach of the enemy, in ,

case the latter should make up their minds to attack.
The troopers made themselves comfortable and lay

down to sleep after dinner in the long grass beneath the »

grand sequoia trees by the river bank.
But for Buffalo Bill and Red Knife there was no rest.

By that wonderful sixth sense possessed by every scout,
they had a premonition of impending danger. There was
no visible sign of any; there was no special reason to sus-
pect any; but, none the less, they could not rid them-
selves of the nee that the night would not pass without
an attack.

As for the general, he was utterly oblivious of any
impending danger, and he was inclined to smile at what
he thought was Cody’s excessive precautions. But, being
a sensible man, he recognized that the scout knew more
about the business than he did, and so he gave him a free
hand to do as he thought best for the safety ofthe camp.

He arranged his saddle and uniform coat into a com-
fortable pillow, and followed the example of his men by
lying down to sleep. Before he closed his eyes, however,
he called out to Buffalo Bill.

“For the Lord’s sake, Cody, why don’t you go to sleep,
too? Surely you have done enough. You have got sen-
tries out all around the camp, and if ever a man needed a
rest, it is you. You have been doing three times as much
work as any of us these last few days.”

“Red Knife and I will take turns at watching, general.

‘and ears,” he added to himself, reflectively.

Bind STORIES.

He'll take a few hours’ rest, and then relieve me and
watch for the rest of the night.”

“But why need either of you watch?”

“Because neither of us feels as if he could sleep com-
fortably. If you ask Red Knife, he will tell you that he
feels, just as I do, that something is going to break loose
pretty soon.”

“I hope so,’ murmured the general, sleepily.
give the red devils a lesson.”

And he turned over on his side and was fast asleep in a
few moments,

Red Knife, at a word from Buffalo Bill, rolled himself
in his blanket and tried to sleep. But he rolled restlessly
from side to side, and presently arose and joined the scout,
saying he felt that he could not sleep that night.

“Ugh! White man make plenty sleep,’ he muttered,
looking at the recumbent forms of the troopers on the
grass all around him. “Take scalp plenty easy! Red
Knife not care sleep on warpath.”

“You're right, Red Knife,’ said the border king. “I
wonder what would happen to these soldiers if they went
on an Indian campaign without scouts to act as their eyes
"Or, rather,
I don’t wonder—I know. They would be butchered just
like a herd of buffaloes in a drive.”

The scout and the Pawnee silently arose and started on
a tour of the pickets icy had posted an hour or two be-
fore.

Cody was hardly surprised to find the first one he came
to drowsing at his post.

The trooper was not quite asleep, but he was certainly,
not fully awake.

Cody made a sign to Red Knife, and the two of them
crept round to the front of the camp and came straight
forward through the long grass toward the sentry who
was keeping such a bad watch.

“We'll

He never noticed them, and Cody had seized him by the
throat, and the Pawnee held a scalping knife to his breast,
before he fully awoke to his senses.

“A fine sentry you make!” said Buffalo Bill, sternly, to
the abashed trooper. “If we had been the enemy, we
could have lifted your scalp and surprised the camp with
the greatest ease, for all you could have done to prevent it.
What would the general say if he knew how his men
keep guard? You know the penalty awarded to a man
who sleeps at his post in the face of the ny I sup-
pose?”

“Death!” exclaimed the man, his face turning ashy
pale. ‘“Well,‘report me—lI deserve it!”

“Tf you think that, I believe you can be trusted not to
repeat your offense,” said the border king. “See to it
that you keep a good watch for the rest of the night, and I
will say nothing more about the matter, nor will the
Pawnee. I guess the fright we gave you was pretty
nearly enough punishment.”

 
 

 

THE BUFFALO

They went on and made the round of the other sentries,
and found them in not much better case,

While only one man was actually. asleep, several were
keeping a very indifferent watch, and there was not one
whom an Indian could not have surprised and slain with
little trouble. > _ a

Cody admonished them all a ond then flung him-.
self down in the grass on a little knoll overlooking the

camp and kept a keen-eyed watch, with Red Knife near at.

hand, doing the same.

They lay quietly through the greater part of. the. Lick
without even exchanging a word, but not for a moment
did either man relax his vigilance.

Just as the first gray light of dawn was creeping over
the sky, the Pawnee moved uneasily and grunted,

“At the same moment Buffalo Bill leaped to his feet, cry-
ing “Indians—Indians!” at the top of his voice, and fired
his rifle to awaken the sleeping camp. |

A few moments later, almost. before the crack of the
weapon had ceased echoing from the bluffs, there were
several sharp, ringing reports from the carbines of the
pickets, who had been keeping a good lookout since
Buffalo Bill’s warnings.

As the general. and his men leaped out a their blankets
and seized the rifles lying” beside them on the ground, they
saw a small party of Indians come sweeping up the valley
in the dim light frem the open. plain beyond.

They were mounted on very swift ponies, and were
~ audaciously heading straight for the camp, although they
did not number more than a dozen braves.

“To the horses! To the horses!” yelled Buffalo Bill.
“They want to stampede them.”

This was, indeed, the bold plan of the redskins. After
the horses were gone, the soldiers could be attacked at
leisure, and would have to fight at a a serious disad-
vantage.

But the sentries kept up a rapid fire on the Indians.
The latter had emptied their rifles as soon as they got
within range, after the Indian fashion, but they still kept
galloping toward the camp, as if they meant to ride it
down, although they must have seen that their attempt
at a surprise had failed.

Only a dozen warriors had shown themselves, but Buf-
falo Bill, familiar as he was with every. trick of Indian
warfare, had not the slightest deubt that there was.a
strong force not far behind them.

THe knew that such a small party would not try opera-.
tions in so bold a manner if unsupported, and there would
be no great object in stampeding the horses unless the
whites were afterward to be attacked in force.

_About a score ‘of troopers hurried forward to re-enforce
the pickets, firing as they ran. The rest of the soldiers,
rifle in hand, rushed to the horses and each man secured
his own mount and hastened to saddle it, in order to be in
readiness for whatever might happen, _

BILL STORIES: 15

When they saw the pickets strengthened, the redskins
checked their wild dash, turned the heads of their horses.
and rode to the open plain. a

_ There they halted, safely out of range, and awaited the
pursuit of their enemies in confident defiance, for they
were evidently sure that their swift ponies could outrun.
any in the camp.

They had doubtless been supplied with the best that
their tribes owned, so that they would be the better able to
carry out their daring schemé.

The pursuit was not long in coming.

The general gave the word to advance, as soon as the
men had saddled their horses, and in a few minutes from

- the first alarm the troopers were riding out of the valley

to punish the daring intruders who had broken their rest.
_ But this was not so easy to do as they at first imagined.
The dozen redskins galloped boldly up and down the
front of the column, yelling their. war cry and boldly chal-
lenging the whites to come after them and attempt their
capture or death.

It was easy enough to drive them away, but it was not
easy to get to close enough quarters to ihflict punishment
upon them. vy

When the troopers galloped forward, they fled, and
when the-troopers halted they stopped and repeated their
insolent tactics of defiance, until the soldiers fairly oe
their teeth with rage.

It was plain to the border king that the redskins were
trying to lure the column on to the point where their main
force was ready to attack them. He thought it would be
well to respond to their challenge and see if he could dis-
cover the real strength of the enemy.

He was mounted on a very swift and hardy mustang,
much superior to the horses of the soldiers, and even to
the ponies of the Indians. Red Knife was also excep-
tionally well mounted. Buffalo Bill, therefore, begged
the general to order that none of his troopers should fol-
low them when they rode forward to accept the challenge
of the Indians.

After some persuasion, the officer consented,

“But don't let them get a chance of potting you, for
goodness’ sake!” he said. .““We can’t do without you at.
this stage of the game.”

Buffalo Bill and-his Pawnee pard rode forward, after
directing’ several of the best mounted of the troopers to
follow them very cautiously at a distance of about five
hundred yards. They hoped to lure the Indians back
within range of the carbines of this supporting force, just
as the redskins had hoped to beguile them into touch with
their main body. |

But the wily Indians saw the trick, and were not going
to be caught by it.

They were quite willing to let the two men approach
them, but at the same time they carefully watched the ap-

 
 

i6

proach of the troopers and took particular care not to
allow them to gain any advantage of distance.

So the three parties moved forward, maintaining their
respective distances, until they got almost opposite to an

immense tract of timber, which extended down to the -

edge of the stream, but was distant from their late resting
place fully two miles.

The Indians rode on in a straight line, which led them
past the timber, but not through it. They passed the edge
of the outermost trees at a distance of less than a hundred
yards,

Buffalo Bill’s suspicions were instantly aroused. Here
was the best possible ambush that the Indians could wish
for, if their main body was indeed in the vicinity.

He pulled up his horse and gazed keenly into the trees,
but could see no sign of any redskins. If there were any
there, they had concealed themselves very cleverly.

When the Indians he was pursuing saw him stop, they
‘also reined up their es and beckoned to him, as if to
say, “Catch us if you can.’

But the border king and his comrades were too experi-
enced in frontier warfare to let themselves be caught by
such a transparent artifice. |

Their suspicions were now aroused more a ever, and
Buffalo Bill told Red Knife to ride back at full speed and
warn the general to keep a sharp lookout on the thick
bushes and heavy timber to the left, and less than three
hundred yards distant from the spot where the border
king sat on his horse,

The Pawnee delivered his message and hastened back to
his white comrade. He had almost reached him, when

the enemy, judging from the border king’s pause that he
no longer intended to pursue them, threw off thé mask.

With a wild whoop, the dozen Indians in front turned
their ponies and raced at top speed toward him, evidently
intending to attack,

Buffalo Bill whipped his rifle to his Soaiaee and fired:
at the nearest brave before he fled back to the supporting
troopers. —

The Indian tumbled from his horse, and, as he did so,
an ear-splitting war cry came from the timber.

 

CELA TTR VU.
THE ROUT OF THE INDIANS.

Bursting out from their ambush, nearly four hundred
redskins, mounted on ponies and gayly adorned with their
war paint and feathers, came riding from the wood.

They were yelling like fiends, but oo kept together
as well as the best drilled cavalry.

They advanced at top speed with the idea of cutting the
scouts off from the supporting detachment of about thirty
men, which had been following behind them.

The position was that of a triangle, formed by the two
scouts, the Indians, and this detachment. Each occupied

THE BUFFALO

leaped from their saddles and advanced to the front.

BILL STORIES.

one angle, and the distance was about four hundred. es
from point to point.

The general, with the main body, was too fa in the rear
to render any immediate help.

They must manage somehow to stand the fadtns off
until he could come up, if hey) were to escape with their
lives,

But Cody and the Pawnee must first reach the detach-
ment, and the redskins rode like furies to cut them off.

Lucky it was for the two men that they were mounted
on two of the swiftest mustangs that had ever been seen in
that part of the country! Otherwise their lives would not
have been worth three minutes’ purchase.

- They rode as only men can ride when they know they
are riding for their lives.

Cody, however, kept as cool as he ever was in his ae

and, as his horse tore along over the grass, he saw in a

flash the only way to stand off the redskins until help could
come,

Realizing their immense superiority not only in num-
bers, but in their skill in handling their guns on horse-
back, as compared wth the soldiers, he feared that they
might dash through the small party and disperse it, when
it would be an easy matter to deal with the troopers
singly. ae

He yelled again and again to the officer in command of
the little party, as he rode toward them.

“Dismount your men—dismount your men!
foot |’?

_ Fortunately the officer was a cool-headed man, and he
had had some experience of Indian warfare. Almost be-
fore he heard Buffalo Bill shouting, he had seen what
ought to be done.

Fight on

Scarcely had the long line of braves es from their
hiding place, before his voice rang out, cool and clear as on
the parade ground:

“Dismount! Prepare to fight on foot!”
Obeying this order, three out of every four troopers
The

fourth trooper of every squad took charge of the four

‘horses as calmly as if on drill,

The fighting men, being thus freed from the care of
their steeds, could take better aim, and, standing shoulder

- to shoulder, make a more effective resistance to the rapidly

approaching redskins.

Much more quickly than it takes to tell, the cavalrymen
who were now acting as infantry ran forward a few
paces in advance of the horses and deployed in open
order, a foot or two apart,

Dropping on one knee, with their carbines leveled and
their fingers resting lightly on the triggers, they awaited
the approach of the redskins tor a few intensely exciting
moments,

The latter came on in close formation, as if seer

 

 

 
 

 

 

THE BUPEALO

the thought of danger from the little band of men in yee
front.

Meanwhile, the noble mustangs ridden by the two
scouts were bearing them at lightning speed ndarer and
nearer to both friends and foes. They almost seemed to

be part of the line of warriors, as. they rushed onward

toward the little band of waiting soldiers,

The officer in command kept his head beautifully, < as
American officers almost always do in an emergency. He
would not let his men fire until he was practically certain
that every shot would tell on the dense ranks of the enemy.

_ “Fire!” he yelled at last, just as he saw that something |

must be done to save Cody and the Pawnee frem being
cut off.

With an instant precision, that made the reports seem
like one shot, the cavalry carbines sent their bullets into
the ranks of the yelling savages.

. Before they could recover from the sudden shock, which
made them slacken speed perceptibly for a moment, the
carbines were reloaded by a jerk of the lever, and another
well-directed volley went whistling on its deadly errand.

California Joe would have been conyerted to a belief
in repeating rifles if he had happened to be present on
that battlefield.

Several of the braves reeled in their saddles and fell to
the grass, writhing in agony. Ponies tumbled over in all
’ directions, and their riders were hastily caught up behind
their comrades,

The Indians were not used to a stand-up fight in the
open, and they had only tried it on this occasion because
they had such an immense superiority of numbers. But
they had not reckoned on the deadly weapons in the hands
of the white soldiers, for at that time repeating rifles were
comparatively new to them. Tulari Ned and his fellow
rascals had not sold such good weapons to them.

The rapid firing of the troopers, and their firm, steady
stand, which showed that they neither thought of retreat
nor flight, had an almost instant effect on the savages.

If such a few men could inflict such losses on them, they
argued, what might not be expected from the large body
that was spurring up at top speed to take a hand in the
fight ?

Almost as soon as the two scouts rode their panting
horses up to the steady rank of their comrades, the battle
line of the warriors showed signs of faltering and retreat-
ing. ‘

It was not that the fads were cowards—far from it
—but this was not the way they liked to fight, and their
chief saw that their losses would be altogether too heavy
to do him any credit, even if he succeeded in wiping out
the little party before the rest of the white soldiers came
up. :

“He therefore ordered his force, by a shrill cry, to fall
back into the shelter of the timber, and the line retreated
almost as rapidly as it had advanced, spurred on by the

BEL SlORTIS: sg
bullets sent whistling after them by the victorious cavalry-
men. .

As the general rode up and joined his force to the men
who had made such a gallant stand, the last of the Indians
vanished behind the green veil of the bushes that fringed
the wood.

“Well done, men!” he ned, as he oe up.
finest piece of fighting that I ever saw.”

“Tt was the

“But we shall have them back again soon,” said Cody.

“They still outnumber us by nearly four to one, and if I
know anything of Indian nature they will not give up the
fight without an attempt to avenge their losses. We shall
have them on us again, but they won’t come in the same
way.”
There was a hasty council of war between the officers
and the scout, and it was decided that, as they would still
be obliged to act more or less on the defensive against a
greatly superior force, they had better relieve themselves,
as far as possible, of the care of the horses and continue
to fight on foot.

Some of the younger and more hot-headed officers
wanted to pursue the Indians into the timber, but Buf-
falo Bill soon convinced them. that this would be the
rankest folly and might very well lead to the annihilation |
of the entire expedition.

They were out on the open plain, where they might
easily have been surrounded. The border king therefore
advised a speedy retreat to the river bank, where their
rear would be protected, and where there was some more
timber in which they could give cover to their horses.

The animals must be sheltered from fire, or the whole
force might be placed in a serious predicament.

The general decided that, with their backs to the river,
they would form a semicircle, and, taking what cover
they could find, hold out until the arrival of the main
body of his little army.

It was still early in the morning, and he did not ex-
pect it to arrive for several hours—perhaps not until late
in the afternoon.

Every fourth man was ordered to take charge of the
horses of his squad, and the remainder stretched out and
formed a fighting line to cover the retreat back to the
river. In this order they made their way back to the
timber, fighting every inch of the way.

For the Indians had speedily divined their tactics, even
before they began to put them in execution, and they
dashed out of their retreat, whooping and yelling, but not
in close formation this time. They had received a lesson
which had given them a healthy respect for their white
foes. ee
They approached in open order, and wheeled their
ponies in dizzy curves, so that the soldiers found it very
difficult to take accurate aim. They had been strongly
re-enforced, too, and now numbered fully six hundred

 
eo | THE BUFFALO

men. Evidently the whole force of the enemy had not
ridden out of the wood at the first onslaught.

As they rode forward, the savages fired repeatedly from
the backs of their ponies, but as they were galloping they
could not take careful aim.

It was equally difficult for the soldiers to hit them, but
they kept up such a steady fire that they forced the red-
skins to keep at a respectful distance,

So they fought, slowly and steadily, until the horses
had been taken to the river bank and into the cover of
the timber.

A few of the horses were shot by the Indians during
this retreat, and some of the men in the firing line were
wounded, but only one was shot dead, thanks to the speed
at which the savages circled on their horses to avoid the
bullets of the soldiers.

As the line was falling back, steadily disputing every
-inch of ground, there was an instance of heroism which
surpassed almost anything that even Buffalo Bill had
seen in his large experience of Indian warfare.

One of the men who was on horseback, leading the
steeds of three of his comrades back to the river, was
shot in the arm.

He reeled in the saddle for a moment, and then recov-.

ered himself and sat as squarely as if on parade.

Next moment, he was hit by another bullet in the shoul-
der, for he was riding at an angle el exposed to
the fire of the Indians, ~

Blood streamed in a crimson barca from the man’s
arm and shoulder, and his face turned as pale as death
with the pain of his two wounds, but he clinched his teeth
and sat his horse, though he was swaying from side to
side at every step made by the animal.

A third time he was hit, for the Indians, seeing him
reel, concentrated their fire on him, hoping that when he
fell and left the four horses with nobody to guard them,
they would be.able to dispatch them with comparative ease.

This time the man was shot in the breast, and two of

his comrades hastened to his assistance, thinking that he —

would surely fall at last. But the resolute will to do his
duty even to the last gasp was stronger than pain or
physical weakness.

He waved them away and went on steadily with the

horses, until at last he had led them into the shelter of

the wood.

Then he rolled from the saddle and collapsed i in the long
grass, apparently lifeless.

-When the surgeon who had accompanied the column
went up to him and attended to his wounds, he was
amazed at the grim determination which had enabled the
man to go on until the horses were safe.

Any one of the three wounds, he said afterward, ought
to have been enough to put the strongest man out of
action instantly.

The firing line was gradually withdrawn until it formed

while his opponent was on foot.

BILL STORIES:

a half circle, with the river on the rear. The horses were
carefully protected, for the trees in which they were teth- —
ered were included within the sweep of the half circle.

In thig strong position the men remained all morning,
repelling rush after rush made by the Indians.

Their savage foes took good care not to expose them-
selves unduly, despite their great advantage of numbers.

Had they been willing to take the risks which white
men commonly take in warfare, not a soul in the column
could have escaped. They could have rushed the column,
and annihilated it, but they would have had to be willing
to lose half their number in aa so, and that they would
not do,

There was a youre Arapahoe chief, ate ae attracted
the attention of the defenders throughout the bent Dy
the reckless courage which he displayed.

Time and again, he tried to collect a band of braves”
and lead them in a wild charge. When he found at last.
that they would not follow him to close quarters with
the white men, as he desired, he rode up alone, with chival-
rous bravado, almost to the firing line, waving his gun in
the air in defiant challenge.

Several of the soldiers leveled their rifles at him in-
stinctively, but they did not fire. A chivalrous instinct
made them refrain from killing a man who put. his life.

so fearlessly in their hands.

“tle wants somebody to oblige gis with a inde
hand fight,” cried Buffalo Bill, “and, by thunder, I’ll do
it! a

But he was too late.

Red Knife had already leaped to his feet and rushed to-
ward the Arapahoe, to whom he happened to be about

fifty yards nearer than was the border king.

The young chief had the advantage of being“mounted,
He rode swiftly around
in a half circle, hanging by one foot and one hand on the
further side of his horse, and glancing over the animal’s
neck at his steadfast enemy.

Red Knife took careful aim, when the ne was
only about thirty yards distant and sent a bullet crash-
ing through the brain of his horse. ee

The rider dismounted himself in a moment, after. which —
he rose from the ground, and as he did so he fired at the
Pawnee, who was rushing up to take his scalp, :

Red Knife staggered back, struck in the neck, but in a _
second he had pulled himself together and went forward.

Dodging the tomahawks which they flung at one an-
other as they came to close quarters, the two Indians
grappled in a deadly embrace.

The breathless onlookers forgot to go on with their
own fighting, so absorbed were they in watching this
fight between the two champions. Not a shot was fired,
for the time being, by the men on either side.

The knives of the two braves flashed in the sunlight, as
they wrestled to and fro, but for at least two minutes,

 
 
 

/ | only upon reaching the shelter of the wood from which

 

/

| which seemed almost like hours to the men who stood
| watching them, neither could get a chance to plant a stab
) in the body of the other.

They were very evenly matched, and noth were skilled

Fin every trick of Indian fighting.

At last Red Knife wrested his right arm free from

the clutch of the Arapahoe and plunged his knife hilt —

deep into his breast.
out even a groan. —

Red Knife bent over him, with the bloody knife in his
hand, to take the scalp; bt as he did so, the Arapahoe
gathered strength for a moment, in the very throes of
death though he was. His hatred was strong enough to
drive back even the king of terrors for a moment.

And that second was enough!

With a swift upward lunge, he drove his knife into the
body of the man bending over him, and then rolled over
on his side—dead at last!

Red Knife staggered and almost fell, but he took the
scalp of his slaughtered foe and waved it defiantly to-
ward the ranks of his enemies.

The man as like a sack, with-

There was a loud yell of grief and rage at this sight,

for the young chief was a great leader of his braves.

The cry changed, however, to one of revengeful joy
when they saw Red Knife totter and fall dead on the
body of the Arapahoe.

Instantly the spell that had stopped ‘the battle for a

brief while was broken, and the firing recommenced more
furiously than ever.

The Indians began to press in more and more closely
than before, and the position of the little force was be-
coming precarious, when suddenly they began to turn their
horses and retreat at a great speed.

In a moment the reason was made plain,

Two squadrons of troopers came galloping out of the
valley on to the battlefield. The redskins were nearest
to the mouth of the valley and had seen them first.

They were the vanguard of the general’s force, which
numbered upward of a thousand men, and the.savages
saw in a flash that the game was up.

They fled from the field in wild disorder, intent now

they had emerged, and making good their escape.

They knew they had waited too long and been caught
in the very same snare that they had set for their foes.

The soldiers who had fought such a long and weary

battle on the defensive, now eagerly seized the oppor-

tunity to attack in their turn. They mounted their horses

—) and were foremost in the hot chase.

The main body of the Indians made good their escape

: to the woods and got safely away, but they left the plain

t i, covered with their dead and dying.

That was the only time they stood up to the white

: 4 troops in a pitched battle throughout the whole campaign.

         

They had been taught a terrible lesson, and thereafter

THE BUFFALO

   
 
  

 

BILL STORIES. 19

they confined their operations to guerrilla fighting, striv-
ing to cut off small parties and lift the scalps of isolated

settlers.

 

CHAPTER. Vii.
THE BESIEGED BLOCKHOUSE.

Soon after the battle, the two columns which had
been operating against the Indians united, and California
Joe and Buffalo Bill again met.

Joe reported that his army had had two or three brushes
with small bodies of Indians, and had inflicted consider-
able damage on them, but had not fought any pitched
battle comparable with that in which Buffalo Bill had
participated.

“But I had a chance which yo’ would hev liked, old
pard,” he said. ‘We was a-skirmishin’ with the Injuns
one day, an’ who should I see drawin’ a bead on me but

our old friend, Tulari Ned. He was behind one tree and I

was behind another.

“I fired at him, but he dodged down an’ I missed him
by a hair. He was painted like a redskin, but he hadn’t
shaved off thet red beard of his, an’ I knew him ag’in in
a moment. Before I could load my gun ag’in, he got
safe away, an’ I couldn’t leave the column ter go trackin’
him.”

“Don’t you wish you had a repeater, Joe?’ asked
Buffalo Bill, RUSE “You could have got him,

then.”

California Joe swore angrily.

“Tt was all my durned fault fer missin’ him once when I

had a bead on him,” he said. “If I was fool enough ter
do thet, I might hev wasted a dozen shots on him with-
out hittin’ him.”
_ Joe was never a believer in repeating rifles. He-al-
ways said that they meant nothing except a waste of am-
munition. They made men blaze away without taking
proper aim, he contended, whereas if a man knew he had
only one cartridge in his gun, he would be very caret
that it took effect on his enemy.

Buffalo Bill told him how the possession of repeaters
had saved the little detachment when the Indians charged
at the beginning of the big battle, but even that hardly suf-
ficed to change the old-fashioned scout’s views, though it
might have done so had he been present at that thrilling
encounter.

The two scouts were together for a couple of weeks
and distinguished themselves in several little expeditions
against the Indians.

Some defeats were inflicted upofi the enemy, but the
power of the tribes was still by no means broken.

One day, the commander-in-chief of the troops, Gen.
Hobbs, sent an orderly to fetch them to his tent.

After expressing his appreciation of the excellent work
they had done, he said:
20 THE BUFFALO

“T have another job on hand for you, and I am sure it
is one that will appeal to you.

“A young man has just ridden into camp from Har-
lett’s Gulch, a place about twenty-five miles from here.
He says that the people there are besieged by a strong
party of Tularis and Tejons. He reckons they number
about a couple of hundred, and there are about thirty men
and several women and children in a strong blockhouse.

“They think they can hold out easily till relief comes,
but this young fellow had a hard time getting through the
Indians. It was one of the pluckiest things I’ve ever
heard of.

-“J’ve given orders for fifty troopers to get ready to
start at once. A couple of officers will go with them, but
the detachment will be placed under your absolute com-
mand, Cody, with California Joe as your lieutenant, if
he is willing to serve under you.”

“Sure!” said Joe. “I’d foller Buffler any day 0’ the
week, an’ never ask fer a better leader.”

“T do this,” the general explained, “because I recognize
that the force | am giving you is very small for the work
to be done. But | cannot spare more men, because I
have other expeditions to send out, and so you must do
the best you can. That is why I want a man who knows
Indian warfare thoroughly to take command. My officers
are: good men, but they might be lured into an ambush, for
they can’t be expected to know the redskins as you. and
Joe know them.”

The scouts saluted and were about to leave the tent,
when the general called them back. :

“One word more,” he said, “This young fellow who
rode in with the news tells me that there is a white man
with the Indians. I rather think he may be our old friend,
Tulari Ned.”

“If we get a chance, you may rely upon it that we will
put a bullet through him,” said Buffalo Bill, grimly.

“No, don’t do that—unless you have to, of course. I
_ would very much like to catch him alive and hang him
publicly in ’Frisco, as a warning to those other scoundrels
who have been selling arms to the Indians,”

“All right, general; we'll take him alive if we get a
chance,” Cody promised.

“An’, say, gin’ral, will yer let me pull on the rope when
ye’re goin’ ter h’ist him up?” pleaded California Joe, with
a look of unusual savagery on his ordinarily kindly face.

' Joe, like his friend, had seen the bodies of white settlers
slaughtered by the Indians, and he had no mercy in his
heart for the renegade whom he held largely responsible
for the horrors which had marked the campaign.

The general promised.

“T’d like to take a hand myself if the time ever comes,”
he confessed, “but I suppose it would lose me my com-
mission, besides being bad for discipline.’

The scotfts, on leaving the tent, found that the party
of troopers was ready.

Cody inspected them carefully, and ordered three of the
horses, which seemed slow and weedy animals, to be ex-
changed for others.

When this had been done, he gave the word to advance
at a trot, for he appreciated thoroughly the necessity for
haste, if the little garrison of the blockhouse was to be
saved from its grave danger.

ee

BILL STORIES.

One of the officers came up to him and mildly remon-
strated that the horses would be worn out before they
reached their destination if they trotted all the way.

“They're going to gallop pretty soon,” said Cody,
grimly. We have only twenty-five miles to go, and we're
going to do it in record time. The horses may be foun-
dered when we reach Harlett’s Gulch, but I reckon they
will carry us there, and that’s all I care about. — .

“The government can buy new horses easily enough,
but it can’t bring these people back to life if the Indians
manage to break into the blockhouse before we get there.
The redskins never lose any time when they are on the
warpath, and neither will we.”

The officer had no more to say, and rode back to his
place in the little column, much abashed.

The young fellow who had ridden in with the news of
the siege happened to be riding by Buffalo Bill’s side,
guiding the column, and he heard this conversation.

He wrung the king of the scouts warmly by the hand.

“Tm thankful the general put you in command,” he
said, ‘My mother and father are in the blockhouse, and
so is my sweetheart. As you may suppose, 1 am very

_ anxious that we should get there without any delay.”

“But you have no fear that they will not be able to hold
out, have you?” asked the king of the scouts.

“They ought to be able to do so,” replied the young
man, “but you never can tell what will happen in Indian
warfare. I haven’t your experience, but I’ve seen enough
ef it to know that.”

“Had they plenty of ammunition?”

“Yes, and there was plenty of food, and a well right in
the center of the blockhouse, so that there could be no
trouble about water. The place is strong. My father
built it for just such a purpose as this, for he is an old
Indian fighter.
until we arrive, but the redskins are full of such devilish
tricks that it is impossible not to worry.” :

A shade of anxiety crossed the young fellow’s hand-
some face.

He was a fine-looking man—a true Western type, with
clean-cut features and a determined bearing. His eyes
were alert and honest-looking. Altogether, he looked

the kind of fellow who would be a good comrade to have

at one’s side in time of danger.

Cody liked him at first sight, and he was very seldom
wrong in his judgment of a man. |

“Did you see this white man who is with the Indians?”
the border king asked, presently.

“Yes. I just caught a glimpse of him in a skirmish we
had as we retreated to the blockhouse. He was dressed
and painted as an Indian, but we spotted him for a white
man because he wore a big, red beard, and I never heard
of a redskin doing that.”

Buffalo Bill and California Joe exchanged significant
glances. It was undoubtedly their old enemy, Tulari Ned.

The young man said that his name was Jack Golder.
He had been born in Wyoming and lived out West all his
life. He was to have been married in a month, and now
his sweetheart was in deadly peril of her life.

He was terribly anxious, but he had not lost his nerve.
Like a brave man, he was determined to do all he could

Yes, they ought to be able to hold out

&

 
   

 

  

head of the party of troopers.

to save her, and, if he failed, to exact a terrible revenge
on her murderers. fa

Buffalo Bill pushed the horses onward at top speed,
and, as he had said, he made the distance in record time.
But the animals were badly fagged when, on rounding a
bluff at the end of a valley, they came in sight of the be-
sieged blockhouse, with the Indians yelling and whooping
around it.

They had not yet managed to effect an entrance, but

_ they had completely encircled the place, and were keep-

ing up a heavy fire on it. That they had lost heavily was
plain from the number of the corpses strewn upon the
grass around the walls of the stockade. |

They had tried to carry the place by direct assault

twice, and had been beaten off with heavy loss.

Now they were keeping at a more respectful distance.

Some were mounted on horseback, and were riding
round and round the little fort, uttering defiant war
whoops, but taking good care to keep well out of range
of the rifles of the defenders.

Others, of a more practical and less spectacular turn of
mind, had crept as near as they could and taken cover,
from which they poured in a steady fire on the loopholes
at which the whites occasionally stood to take aim at
them. |

“There are a great many more than a couple of hun-
dred Indians here,” said the king of the scouts, reckoning
the enemy up roughly, at the first glance he got as he
rode out of the valley with Jack Golder by his side, at the

four or five hundred redskins round that blockhouse.
This is going to be a more serious business than we
thought.” ae

“They must have been re-enforced,” said Golder, “but,
thank God, we are still in time!’

“There's only one thing to be done,’ Cody said, de-
cidedly, as they sped along side by side. “Our horses are
neatly foundered, and we can’t hope to maneuver with any
advantage in a fight with the redskins in the open. We
must charge through them, and get into the blockhouse.
Luckily, most of them are unmounted, and they will
not have time to mount their horses before we get to
them.” é

This was so, for the bulk of the Indians’ horses had
been tethered, under a guard, more than a quarter of a
mile from the fighting line.

The savages knew that they could not operate against
a stockade to any advantage on horseback, and therefore
most of them had dismounted. Those who were riding
around the blockhouse had remained on horseback, be-
cause they thought that the defenders might try to cut
their way through and ride for their lives at any mo-

“ment,

Urging their fagged horses to their best speed, the
troopers charged over the half mile or so that intervened
between the end of the valley and the stockade as rapidly
as they could.

The Indians saw them almost immediately they emerged
from the concealment of the valley, and those who were

‘mounted at once rode toward them, uttering shrill war

whoops and cries of defiance.

There were only about sixty on horseback, so that the
two parties were pretty evenly matched when they
charged together, about midway between the valley and
the little fort. ae °
The fight that followed was brief and decisive.

‘There must be at least

 

THE BURRALO BH STORIES. ¢ at

The issue was hardly for a moment in doubt.

The redskins were no match for the troopers in a
hand-to-hand fight, for Buffalo Bill’s men had all been
carefully picked. Their’ weapons were also superior to
those of their enemies, who did not possess repeaters, al-
though they all had rifles.

In a few moments the whites had fought their way

through, leaving a trail of dead and dying behind them.

The Indians recoiled from the shock, and were in such
bad shape that they made no effort to pursue.

“Let’s go back and give ‘em another dose!” cried Cali-
fornia Joe, and several’of the troopers turned their horses
eagerly at his words. :

“No!” shouted Buffalo Bill, in a voice of thunder that

‘was heard by every man in the column. “Forward into

the fort! See, they are gathering to attack us! We can’t
afford to lose a man.” -

Following his lead, they rode on, and were soon fight-
ing hand to hand with the scores of dismounted Indians
who swarmed around their horses. :

Fortunately, many of the enemy were on the other side
of the fort, or hanging out on the right and left flanks.
They could not get up in time to take part in the mélée.

Still, it was one of the stiffest little fights, while it
lasted, that the king of the scouts had even taken part
in. Every man of his force had two or three of the enemy
to contend with, and but for the fact that their horses
helped them by kicking out furiously and striking down
several of the redskins beneath their hoofs, they might
never have got through.

The gate of the stockade swung open as the fight was
at its height, and twenty of the defenders rushed out to
help the men who had come to their rescue. They poured
a destructive fire into the ranks of the redskins and ma-
terially helped to bring the troopers through safely.

But when they had cut their way Into the stockade and
swung the massive gate shut in the very faces of the
most daring of their foes, Buffalo Bill saw with great re-
gret that the ranks of his little force had been sadly
thinned. -

Several.of the soldiers were wounded, and no fewer

than thirteen of them had been left behind dead upon the
plain outside. The Indians had lost more than three times

that number.

. They advanced to try to scalp some of the fallen, but
from the loopholes the defenders poured such a killing
fire on them that they were forced reluctantly to give up
the idea.

_ Cody gazed intently on the bodies of his own men who
had fallen.

He had tried to see that. the wounded were
helped into the stockade, and not left to the relentless sav-
ages, but had he been successful in every case?

No!

Presently he saw one of the fallen soldiers lift himself
up on his arm and glance appealingly at the fort.

With a bound, Cody was at the door of the stockade,
wrenching away with his muscular hands the huge beam
that closed it. .

“Volunteers!” he shouted; and. he pointed to the
wounded: man lying outside.

With a yell of eager sympathy, a score of men rushed

- forward—all who were within hearing of his voice; within

sight of the piteous object to which he pointed!

In such a case, no good American soldier or frontiers
man ever hung back. ae
As the men poured out of the stockade, the Indians

  

   
22 . THE BUFFALO

saw their purpose in a moment. They had retreated to-
ward their old positions, but they now came back on the
run. They would have the scalp of that wounded sol-
dier and of some others, too, they vowed to themselves.

The man was lying about fifty yards from the fort. The
whites were much nearer to him than the redskins, but the
time lost in picking him up and ye him made the
race nearly an equal one.

Cody reached him first, and as he bent over to raise
him in his strong arms, he felt the sting of an Indian’s
bullet grazing his right temple.

In a moment California Joe and Jack Golder were by
his side, helping him to lift the man.

The Indians were now close up, but the men who had
followed Buffalo Bill out of the fort covered the retreat

_and fired so steadily and well that the return was made in
safety.

The little band of heroes, however, was not unscathed.

Five men, besides Buffalo Bill, had been wounded in the
sortie, but none had been killed. They all decided, even
the wounded themselves, that it was a cheap price to pay
for the rescue.

“We would have been Cees forever if we had left
him out there,” said the border king. “It would have been
better to have lost a dozen men.”

And there was nobody in the fort to disagree with him.

The imminent danger over for the moment, the king of
the scouts at once set to work to find out the state of af-
fairs in the blockhouse, and what.was the prospect of
maintaining the defense until more help came, if need
were.

His head was singing from the flesh wound in the
temple, but he was not the man to mind a little thing like
that when there was work to be done. '

An old, weather-beaten man came up to him and intro-
duced himself as Phineas Golder. He was the father of
the young fellow who had carried the news of the siege,
and was himself in command of the defense of the stock-
ade which, with wise forethought, he had built five years
before, when he settled in the country.

He thanked Cody warmly for the brave manner in
which he and his men had cut their way to the rescue.

“But I fear the general has not sent enough men for
the work there is to be done. Unless another column
comes to our help, I am afraid that you will merely share
our fate,’”’ he added.

“Don’t despair,” said Buffalo Bill, cheerily. ““The gen-
eral sent every man who could be spared at the moment.
He did not know the Indians were so numerous, but he
will not forget us. Tell me, how are you fixed for pro-
visions? Have you enough for the extra force we have
brought you?”

“Ample. Tf that were all, I would not worry. I took
good care to provision the place for a long siege at the
first whisper of trouble with the Indians.”

The old man had been a noted Indian fighter in his
youth and middle age, and he still remembered all the les-
sons of forethought and carefulness which he had been
taught in the school of experience.

The stockade which he had built was a model of its :

kind, as Buffalo Bill soon discovered by a brief inspection.
It was called a blockhouse, but it was in reality a real fort
in miniature.

The four walls were built of stout logs, and reached a
height of twelve feet. The logs were in a double row, and
were bound together by stout beams inside. One of the

BILE STORIES.

first things the old man had done after the appearance of
the redskins, was to thoroughly soak the timber with
water from the well inside the walls, so that the fiery ar-
rows which the Indians were so fond of shooting at night
in sieges of this. kind would not take effect on the walls
and burn a breach through which they might rush in and
massacre the garrison.

The stockade was about fifty yards square, and in the
center there was a large blockhouse, divided into several
rooms, in which the women and children could find fairly
comfortable accommodation even during the horrors of a
siege.

Ae present, however, the greater part of this eae
had been set aside as a hospital for the wounded men, who
were sadly numerous.

Those who could possibly keep on ae feet were still
at the post of duty, for there were no malingerers in that
heroic little garrison; but more than a dozen men were
stretched out on cots in the two largest rooms, and ten-
derly cared for by the women.

Chief among these ministering angels was a young girl
of not more than twenty years af age, who attracted But-
falo Bill’s attention at once by the skill and tenderness
with which she bound up the wounds of the injured men.

She was a beautiful girl, with 4 sweet face in which
purity and virtue were plainly written for anyone to see.

When the two men left the improvised hospital, But-
falo Bill asked who she was.

“She is Gwendoline Rivers, the girl who is going to
marry my boy, if we ever come through this business
alive,” said the old man. “I think she is one of the finest
girls who ever lived. She started in to be a lady doctor,
and went East and spent a couple of years in being edu-
cated for it. She didn’t like it, so she came back home,
and met Jack. It was lucky for us, though, that she
had that training, for now she is as good as a regular sur-
geon. I’d much rather have her here, in fact, than most
of those murderous sawbones they have in the army.” —

‘The two men went the rounds of the fort, and then
inspected the two small storehouses which were included

within the radius of the walls, beside the big blockhouse.

In one of them there was an ample store of all kinds

of provisions, and the other was full of ammunition and

spare logs with which to speedily repair any breaches
that might be made in the walls of the stockade.

Buffalo Bill was amazed at the thoroughness with which
Phineas Golder had made ready to withstand an Indian
attack. It had been the old man’s hobby for years—this
stockade; and now it came in most usefully in the hour
of need.

“Why, there’s only about one thing you need—and that’s
a Gatling gun,” declared the border king.

“I thought of getting one,” said the old man, quite
seriously, “but I couldn’t quite afford it. If the redskins
had only waited another: year before they went on the war-
path, we would have had it; and then we could have
mopped them up beautifully when they tried to carry the
place by storm,”

CELA PEER xe
THE NIGHT ATTACK .

When darkness came, the defenders of the little fort
redoubled their wigilance.

They knew that it was the most dangerous time in an

 
  

 

 

Indian siege, and they were well aware also, ft smart-
ing under the heavy losses they had sustained during
the day, the savages would try to wreak their revenge

before dawn.

Their foes must be aware fae snare force of sol-
diers might appear at any moment to rescue the besieged

‘garrison. |

During the earlier part of the night, the moon shone
brightly over the prairie, and there was no better chance
of effecting a surprise than by day. 5

The Indians could not approach within rifle shot of the
stockade, without making targets of themselves. Even
when they tried to creep through the long grass, the keen
eyes of the frontiersmen soon detected them, and a few
well-directed shots made them give up that game in dis-
gust,

But about ten o’clock, Buffalo Bill and his comrades

saw, with some alarm, that the sky was becoming thickly

covered with clouds,

The moon was soon entirely hidden
from view.

Some of the men proposed that torches should be lit,

but Buffalo Bill and old Phineas instantly said that would
not do.

Tt would simply have had the result of making the
stockade an easy target, while the redskins outside would
be hidden in the darkness, Besides, the glare would

have seriously interfered with the aim of the defenders, if-

a rush were made and the fighting came to close quarters
again.

Cody went the roids of the fort to see that no point
was leit unguarded, and that all the pop neice were Props

erly manned,

Fe also tried the experiment of going outside with a
dozen volunteers and trying to advance through the grass
on hands and knees. But they soon came in touch with
the advanced line of the Indians and were fired upon.
Cody instantly gave the order to retreat, seeing that the

cordon drawn around the stockade was so tight that it

was practically impossible for even a single man to force
his way through it.

On his return, he ordered the men’ ‘on guard to keep a
sharp lookout on all sides,

It was not long before the oe need for vigilance
was made plain, even to the most careless, :

Taking advantage of the darkness, the redskins crept
in three rows toward the stockade, when the moon passed
behind a dense bank of clouds,

They probably thought they had en the t time so well

that they were not perceived, but Buffalo Bill and some

of the other frontiersmen could see in the dark nearly as
well as a cat.
began to make a move.

“Steady, boys!’ said the king of the scouts, passing
along the line of men who were waiting eagerly at the
loopholes, with their rifles ready and their fingers curling
around the triggers.
within easy range, and you are quite sure of them. Then
det the red devils have it!”

His wise advice was heeded.

Not a shot was fired until the Indians were within about
forty yards of the stockade.

They were beginning to think te they. had really

: caught the whites napping at last and that victory was

almost within their grasp, when, suddenly, spurts of flame
darted from all the loopholes, and they learned their mis-
take to their bitter cost,

PE. eet

They detected them almost as soon as they |

“Hold your fire until they come

 

   

   

BILL STORIES. ee - 23

_ At least a score of the attackers were stretched on the
grass, dead or wounded, by that well-reserved volley.

Howling with baffled rage and. pain, the survivors,
wounded and unwounded, lost no time in beating a re-
treat, for they had been taught by bitter experience that
the white men’s guns shot fast as well as true.

But they had by no means given up the fight, Their
losses only made them the more resolved to lift the scalps
of the men who had dealt them such hard blows, They
retired to plan out other schemes for the capture of the
little fort that was being so gallantly defended,

After about an hour’s pause in the hostilities, they be-
gan to creep through the grass on their hands and knees,

and to shoot lighted arrows, exactly as Buffalo Bill and

Phineas had expected they would do.

For the first ten minutes or so of this new iota of at-
tack, all the arrows fell short, not a single one of them
even reaching the outer wall, let alone striking the roofs
ot the houses inside.

“They are afraid to come too near,’ whispered Jack
Golder to the border king. ‘We certainly have taught
them to have a holy terror of us!”

“Don't you be afraid, my boy,” the scout ie
“They will come near enough pretty soon.”

And so it proved. Stimulated, probably, by the example
of their chiefs, the redskins presently gained courage and
came nearer, although a hot fire was kept up on them from
the loopholes.

Several arrows stuck in the timbers that formed the
wall of the stockade, and blazed and sputtered there for a
few moments. But, thanks to the forethought of old
Phineas in soaking the timbers, they found no good fuel
for their fire and soon went out without doing any
damage.

The Indians soon saw this, al directed their fire, in-
stead, against the roofs of the blockhouses.
_ With “that negligence that even the most careful men
are sometimes guilty of, Phineas Golder had neglected to
give these a thorough soaking. He had not attended to
them until after the Indians had surrounded the fort, and
the men who then mounted on the roofs were exposed to
the fire of the enemy, and had to come down after they ©
had poured a few buckets of water on. This water had
dried in the hot sun during the day, and now the timbers
of the roofs were as dry as a bone.

Half a dozen flaming arrows struck almost at the same
moment on the roof of the main building, in which were
the aounded men, the women and the children.

-In less than two minutes, the timbers were ablaze, for
the Indians had prepared their winged messengers of
flame with great skill and cunning.

As they saw the flames shoot upward, the redskins gave
vent to fiendish yells of delight and triumph.

It was not a great victory for them, but it was the only
one they had scored so far.

“Tt’s my fault, and I’ll put it out!” cried old Phineas,
seizing one of the buckets of water which he had placed
in handy position, all around the stockade.

But he was not quick euoueh, His design had already
been anticipated. |
As soon as. the smoke from the burning timbers rolled
upward, Buffalo Bill had dashed into the house, ‘with

California Joe close at his heels.

He found the women already seizing ‘their babies for a
hurried exit.

“Get the wounded out at once!” he shouted to Miss

-

    
 
   
24

Rivers, who was standing at her post of duty in the hos-
pital ward she had improvised. “Joe, go back and get
some men to carry them. This fire may get beyond our
control.” ‘

California Joe had got into the habit of doing what
Cody said on the run. He turned on nis heel at once,
and was back almost immediately with a dozen men, who
carried the patients into the open in short ‘order.

The border king, meanwhile, had mounted to the roof,
and found a trapdoor, which he burst open.

Phineas and the other men passed him up bucket after
bucket of water, which he poured over the flaming roof.

The flames, however, had gained a good hold; and it
took a lot of work to get them under control and finally
extinguish them. i

Standing there in the bright light of the blazing tim-
bers, Cody was a splendid mark for the bullets of the
Indians, |

They whistled past his head and rained around him by
the score, but he would not desert the post of danger until
the last spark of the fire had been extinguished.

Old Phineas and California Joe yelled to him to come
down and let the place be burned, but he did not heed their
cries.

At last he completed the task he had set himself, waved
his hand in defiance toward the Indians, whose bullets
had never touched him, and swung himself down into
the room below.

“Tt’s all right now,” he said, “but I feared at first that
they had managed to do it. So long as we teach them
that they can’t smoke us out, I guess we shall be all
right.” .

The Indians did not give the little garrison a moment’s
rest for the remainder of the night. /

Every now and then they would fire a few shots to show
that they were on the alert. Their object was to keep
their foes under arms and wear them out.

They themselves did not need to keep the whole of

their large force on the firing line at the same time. They _

could afford to let some of the braves sleep while the
others maintained the tight cordon round the stockade.

Shortly ‘before dawn, they assembled in full force, how-
ever, and gathered themselves together for a supreme
effort.

In the dim grayness that just precedes daybreak, just at
the hour when watchers are usually least vigilant after
the wearing troubles of the night, the Indians rushed in
to the attack from all sides, and swarmed right up to the
walls of the fort, hacking savagely at the timbers with
their tomahawks. ;

But old Phineas had built so well that they could make
no impression on them, nor could they climb over, though
they tried to hoist one another up to the top of the walls.

Three or four braves managed to climb to the top, but
as soon as their painted and feather-framed faces ap-
peared over the timbers, they were shot down by a little
corps of sharpshooters, whom Buffalo Bill had detailed
to stand within the center of the stockade for that very
purpose. .

The fight was waged hotly around some of the loop-
holes, for the savages got up to them, in spite of heavy
losses, and fired through them from the outside at the
defenders.

In this way the little garrison had several men wounded,
but at last the enemy were driven off, and the defenders
had a breathing spell. Wee Shae

THE BUPRALO BILL STORIES.

They were beginning to congratulate themselves that
the fight was over, when suddenly the worst scheme otf
their foes was revealed.

At one angle of the fort, a huge sheet of flame shot

upward, with a deafening explosion.

Under cover of the furious attack, the Indians had
managed to place a big bag of gunpowder in position out-
side the wall, with a time fuse attached, which exploded it
after they had retired.

Several of the logs of the wall were blown into splin-
ters, and a wide breach made.

Fortunately only one man was slightly hurt by the ex-
plosion, though two others were carried off their feet and
lifted half across the fort. a

In the gray light of the dawn, the redskins saw the
breach and gave a furious war whoop of savage triumph.

Led by a chief of gigantic stature, who had greatly

distinguished himself in the previous fights, they swarmed

up rapidly to the attack, thinking that at last they would
find it an easy task to gain entrance to the fort.

But Cody and a dozen other men had set to work, al-
most before the smoke of the explosion had died away,
to repair the breach.

They rolled barrels, carried boxes, logs and everything

that came handy, to fill up the broken wall temporarily,
and give them some cover behind which to fight while it
was being properly repaired.
- The result was that they had formed a little semi-
circular breastwork just outside the breach, as the Indians
dashed up, and behind them old Phineas and several men
were working like beavers to put in position spare logs
which they fetched hastily from the storehouse.

As the Indians rushed to the attack, they were met
with a steady and well-directed fire, but it failed to check
them.

The giant chief who led them was a brave and des-
perate man, and he inspired his followers with his own
recklessness.

He seemed to bear a charmed life, for time and again
he was fired at, but without being touched.

In a few moments the redskins came to hand-to-hand
combat with the defenders of the temporary breastwork,
and there was no more chance to use rifles. It was work
now for bowie knives and tomahawks!

Buffalo Bill and the giant chief, who was‘dressed in the
Arapahoe war paint, came face to face for a moment
and struck a few ineffective blows at one another, but —
were then swept apart by the eddying rush of the battle.

From the loopholes, some of the garrison fired at the
Indians whenever they got a chance, but friends and foes
were so mixed up that it was difficult to shoot at the one

without running the risk of hitting the other.

“Quick, Cody, we are ready!” shouted Phineas, as the
last. of the upright beams was ready to go into its place
and finish the repair of the breach.

The border king led a charge so furiously into the dense
ranks of the Indians that it ‘made them recoil for a mo-
ment, and gave the whites the chance they needed to slip
back into the stockade.

Two of the upright timbers had been left out for the

purpose, and, as Cody—the last man to face the enemy and

cover the retreat—passed through, these beams were

_ slipped into place, making the wall as strong as before

the explosion. ‘
Convinced at last of the failure of this, their supreme

 
 

 

   

of the plain about a couple of miles to the west.

‘effort, the enemy retired out of rifle range and maintained

their close cordon round the fort. For hours they did
nothing except fire an occasional shot to let the garrison
know they were still on the alert.

The night’s desperate fighting had cost the defenders
dearly, although it had resulted in the complete Buu
of their foes at all points.

The temporary hospital was full of a fresh lot of
wounded men in addition to the old ones, and four men
had been killed outright. Hardly a member of the gar-
rison but had some wound, more or less serious to show,
but most of them kept at their posts all the same. It was
not a time to go in hospital if it could be avoided.

Gwendoline Rivers worked all night and far into the
morning, attending to the wants of the injured men, and
even performing several surgical operations with all the
skill of a real doctor. But at last Buffalo Bill persuaded
her to lie down and take a few hours’ rest, although not
before she had nearly collapsed in his arms from sheer
exhaustion.

Cody and Phineas could not conceal their anxiety from
one another, though they kept up a brave front before
the men. :

Many more such nights as they had just passed through
would not be needed in order to place the fort in the
hands of the Indians. Even one more might do it.

“We have inflicted heavy loss on them, but they don’t
feel it as we do,’ said Phineas. “Their force is so large,
and they can get re-enforcements all the time. If they
force the fighting, they must wear us down.

“T would be in favor of making a dash for it on horse-
back, but we can’t do that with so many wounded men
on our hands, to say nothing of the women and children.
What do you think of the position, Cody?”

“I agree with you. Unless help comes very soon, we
shall be in an awkward fix. li we hadn’t the women
and children with us, we might fight it out on our own
account, and perhaps beat them off. But with those lives
dependent on us, we must not take any risks we can
help. To-night, if no help comes during the day, some-
body must try to get past the Indians and carry the news
of our plight to Gen. Hobbs.”

“But how to get past?’ said the old man. “The red
devils are keeping such a careful watch that not even a
snake could crawl through the line without their know-
ing it.”

“I will try to-night,” replied the border king.

“You can never get through on a horse, and the dis-
tance is so far that on foot you might be too late.”

Buffalo Bill walked up and down the fort for a few
moments, thinking deeply. Then he turned to the old
man and said:

“How far is the Sacramento River from here? It
can’t be very far, surely, as I understand the lay of the
land.”

“Do you see that line of bluffs?” replied Phineas, point-
ing to a serrated ridge that broke up the flat expanse
‘ite
Sacramento runs just beyond them. They overlook the
bank. But why do you want to know?”

“Is the river full? It must be at this season. We
have been having some very heavy rains lately.” —

“Yes, I have seldom seen it so full.’

“Then took at the sky, Mr. Golder. Don’t you see my
idea? We are going to have heavy showers in a few
hours. See! It is raining now on the hills that form the

   

 

THE BUFPALO BILL STORIES. “25

watershed further up the river.. The Sacramento will be

in flood to-night!’

.“And if it is—what then? How will that help us?”
asked Phineas, wondering at the unaccustomed excite-
ment that shone in the eyes of the border king.

“It will give us the way out,” said Cody, speaking
with eager emotion. “The general’s camp is pitched near
the river bank about thirty. miles lower down, I should
judge, taking into account the winding of the stream.

“T will get through the Indian line to-night and ride
down to the camp on the flooded river. It will be easy
enough to get on a tree trunk or floating log. The swol-
len stream will carry me along faster than a horse could
do. It is the one great chance to save all our lives,”

“It is sheer madness!” cried the old man. “How can
anybody ride a river in flood—especially a river like the
Sacramento? You would be dashed to pieces against
some rock or snag, or carried under by the current and
drowned. There is not one chance in a thousand that

you would come through alive.”

“Then I will take that thousandth chance!” declared
the knight of the plains. “It is the only way that offers
a hope of carrying the news to the camp. The lives of the
women and the children are worth a risk of even a million
to one.”

 

CHAPTER  X.
RIDING A FLOOD.

All. morning Buffalo Bill and his comrades watched
eagerly for the approach of relief, but none came in
sight.

“Shortly before noon they were astonished to see a white
flag displayed in the center of the Indians’ lines.

“A flag of truce!’ exclaimed Cody. “That's one of
the tricks of our friend, Tulari Ned, Ill be bound. He
has been keeping in the background and doing the schem-
ing. It must have been he who planned the blowing in
of the stockade wall last night. That wasn’t the sort
of thing an Indian would have thought of.”

“I wonder what they want now,” said Jack Golder, as
a small party of horsemen rode toward the fort from
the Indian lines, bearing with them the white flag.

“Probably they are going to summon us to surrender,
and offer us terms—which, of course, they wouldn’t keep.”’

The embassy from the enemy halted at a distance of
about twenty yards from the wall, and the garrison saw
that it was composed of the giant chief who had fought
so bravely on the previous night, three other braves and
the red-bearded man known as Tulari Ned.

They had all left their arms behind and held their hands

above their heads as they advanced, with the exception

of thé warrior who carried the flag of truce.

“We have no truce with renegades and traitors,”
shouted Buffalo Bill, mounting above the wall of the
stockade on a raised platform, and leveling his rifle at
the red-bearded man. ‘“Tulari Ned, we know you in spite
of your feathers and war paint. I'll give you half a min-
ute to turn your horse and ride off. If you don’t do it,
I'll send your black soul where you'll have to give an ac-
count of the women and children you have murdered.”

The renegade’s face turned pale beneath the war paint,
but he tried a bluff.

“T claim the protection of the flag of truce,” he cried.

Cody fired at his head and cut one of the feathers on
his headdress in halves.

  
co | THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES.

“The next bullet will be through your brain,” he an-
nounced, grimly.

Tulari Ned waited no longer.
horse, he galloped back to the Indian lines.

“Now, we will hear what you have to say,” said Cody
to the Arapahoe chief, using the brave’s own dialect, with
which he was familiar. |

“These are the words of White Vulture, palefaces!”
cried the Indian, in stentorian tones. “Give up the stock-
ade and sutrender, and we will spate all your lives.
Enorgh blood has been shed. Some of our brothers are
in the hands of the white soldiers, and we will exchange
you for them if the great paleface chief who commands
the soldiers at the camp down the river is willing.”

“Very nice and very ingenious,” said. Cody to the
men who gathered round him. ‘“The only trouble is that
you can't believe a word of it, I’d be willing to bet that
Tulari Ned taught him that message, and he has just re-
peated it to us word for word.”

“They would kill us in the space of two minutes, if
we gave ourselves into their hands,” agreed Jack Golder.

“Ts there any man hete who is in favor of surrender?”

the king of the scouts demanded.

Several of the men understood the Arapahoe tongue
well enough to comprehend White Vulture’s offer, and
they speedily interpreted it to their comrades. But not one
of the little garrison was in favor of surrender. They
knew too much about the treacherous nature the
Indians.

“Go back and tell your people that we will never sur-
render to you, White Vulture,” Buffalo Bill said, after a
brief consultation with his friends. oh. you want our
scalps, you must fight your way in and take them.”

The Indian made no reply, except to utter a defiant war

whoop as he turned his hotse’s head and rode back to his
lines, followed by the other three braves.

There was no further attempt at a parley after the
failure of this embassy. Both sides fully understood
that it was war to the knife.

The fighting was kept up in a desultory fashion all |

day, but with scarcely any loss to either side. The Indians
would not approach near enough to make themselves good
targets for the bullets of the garrison.

Early in thé afternoon, loud whoops of jubilation
greeted the arrival of more re-enforcements for them,
which had doubtless been sent for after the arrival of
Buffalo Bill's party on the previous day.

The new war party numbered over sixty braves, and
went a long way to make good the losses which the red-
skins had sustained in the severe repulses they had sus-
tained.

“This means that they wi ill renew the attack more furi-
ously than ever to-night,” said Buffalo Bill to Phineas
Golder. “I wish I could stay to help you repel it.”

“Then you are still resolved to carry out your mad
scheme of floating down the river?”

“Certainly.”

By this time the light, flaky clouds of the morning
had completely covered the sky, and soon the storm burst
in all the fury of'a California downpour. The rain came
down in sheets, driving all the men | to take shelter, save a
few sentries. Q

The Indians were seen cowering together under their
blankets, and evidently giving no thought to fighting for
the time being. But they still kept a “vigilant | watch on

the fort.

Setting spurs to his

When Cody rode out on horseback, thinking that per-
haps he might be able to run the eantlet under cover ‘of ©
the storm, he was soon driven back by a party of mounted
warriors.

He was not much disappointed, for he had hardly ex-
pected to get through in that way. He had the consola-
tion of knowing that the river would undoubtedly be in
flood dtiting the night. we

But when darkness fell, he did not find it so easy to
start as he had expected. The Indians early commenced
a hot attack, and kept it up for several hots, ringing ~
the fort around with a circle of fire.

Again and again they charged at the walls and tried to
effect a bteach of an escalade, but each time they were
driven back.

Every man was needed at the loopholes, however, and
it was past midnight before, the redskins having with-
drawn at last, Cody was able to say farewell to his com-

tades and statt on his perilous trip.

Choosing 2 moment when the moon “was fovertast he
slipped otit of the gate and crept on his stomach through
the grass, as silently as a snake.

He knew that the Indians would be on their guard
against just such an attempt, for they must be aware
of the desperate straits to which the garrison was re-

duced by their repeated attacks, and they would naturally

stippose that an effort would be made to get relief, since
Gen. Hobbs’ camp was so near.

He therefore made his way through the grass with the
utmost possible caution, although that necessarily made
his progress very slow. Time and again, he had to re-
treat and make a detour when he came near an Indian

. Séntifiel.

It was nearly dawn when at last he saw the bluffs~
frowning above him, not.more than a quarter of a mile .
away. He rose to his feet, thinking that he was safe at —
last, and walked rapidly on until he had crossed the bluffs
and descended down to the river bank.

The Sacramento was in flood, indeed!

Buffalo Bill had had considerable experience of floods,
but he had never seen such a raging torrent.

Huge tree trunks were being swept past him at light-
ning speed as if they were wisps of straw. The waters
whirled and eddied into great waves as. they struck
against the numerous rocks and snags in the bed of the
river.

To ride that swollen, swirling stream and emerge
safely at the end of the journey looked utterly impossible
at first sight. But the border king thought of the women
and children whose lives depended on him. It had to
be done—that was all there was to it!

But he must wait for the light of dawn, which was al-
ready beginning to appear in the eastern horizon.

There was a big tree trunk stranded on the bank, half
in the water and swaying violently to and fro. It would
have been washed downstream long ago had it not been
protected by a bend in the bank which “acted as a natural
breakwater.

The scout saw at once that here was the boat on ded s

he would ride down the swollen river.

With infinite labor, he pushed it over into the water,
narrowly escaping having his leg broken through the vio-
lence with which it bucked and kicked in the oe
current.

Te was now vert enough to see his path, and he let go

ob
\
a

 
  

ee

 

 

 

THE BUFFALO

from the bank and jumped on the log, grasping one of
the branches which grew upon it.

As the trunk swung out into the stream, the king of
the scouts heard a frightful war whoop almost in his very
ear. =

- Turning around with a start, he saw to his amaze-
ment that White Vulture, the chief of the Arapahoes, had
bounded on to the other end of the trunk, while three
other Indians dashed into the water and caught hold of
the projecting branches, just as the strange craft went
switling down the river at a frightful speed.

The redskins had been out on a hunting trip, to get
some fresh meat for their camp, and had happened to
strike the river bank just as Buffalo Bill was starting out

on his dangerous voyage.

With a sportsmanlike instinct which he probably could
not have explained, White Vulture had followed the scout
on to the log without an instant’s hesitation. His braves
had followed him in the same manner, but they had not
been quick enough to get safely seated on the log before
it started down the river. oe

All this happened in the space of two or three seconds,
and, before any of the men could speak or act, the trunk
went rushing on the flood round a bend in the river bed,

nearly unseating the two men who were upon it by its

violent plunging in the grip of the current.
But once round the bend, the river flowed somewhat
more evenly, and the three Indians who were clinging

to the branches tried to climb up.

At the same time, the Arapahoe chieftain drew his
tomahawk and crept forward on the trunk toward the
border king, his eyes full of somber fire.

The scout had left his rifle and revolver behind him, be-
cause he did not want to be tempted to fire a shot when
passing through the Indian lines. His task, he thought,
must be accomplished by stealth, or not at all. Now he
bitterly regretted that he had not at least worn his re-
volver.

Still his heart did not fail him, even in that moment of
terrible danger. He might have slipped from the trunk
and taken his chance of being washed ashore alive lower
down the stream, but he would not do that, for it might

have meant the failure of his task.

With no weapon save his bowie knife, Buffalo Bill
faced White Vulture, prepared to fight to the death rather
than give up his hold on the tree which was his only hope
of bringing relief to his besieged friends higher up the
river.

Three, times the Arapahoe raised his tomahawk with
the intention of flinging it at the head of the border king,
but the tossing of the tree disturbed his aim, and there-
fore he waited.

At last he thought his chance had come, and with a
loud war cry he sent the weapon whizzing from his hand.

But at that moment the log gave a violent lurch and
the tomahawk, instead of burying itself in the head of
the scout, splashed harmlessly into the water.

His eyes flashing with baffled hate, the redskin ad-
vanced to grasp the white man by the throat and hurl him
into the stream.

There was a quick lunge of the bowie knife, and the
bright blade sank hilt deep in the breast of the redskin.
He rolled over into the water without a groan, and the
turbid waters were dyed with his life blood as he sank

' beneath them. :

The other braves gave a cry of grief and rage when

W

 

BILL STORIES. 27

they saw his death, but, struggle as they might, they

could not manage to climb on to the trunk, so badly did it
rock and sway. Indeed, they could hardly hold on to the
branches, and they dared not loose a hand to attack the
border king. .

As he turned to deal with them, another huge tree was
swept against his craft by the current.

Striking it with a terrible crash, it brushed the Indians

off into the water as if they had been flies,

The border king was nearly unseated by the force of
the collision. As his tree swept on, he saw that the red-
skins, badly hurt, were trying vainly to swim to shore.
They were doomed men.

_ Although he was thus freed of his enemies, the king
of the scouts was by no means out of danger.

The river was full of other timber, and rocks were
plentiful. Time and again in that fearful journey hé
escaped destruction by a hair’s breadth.

When, after an experience that would have’ turned
many men’s hair white, he came near to the spot where
the camp of Gen. Hobbs was located, he was confronted
with the problem of how to get safely to shore. If he
went on, he might be carried to the river’s mouth and
swept out,to sea.

About five hundred yards ahead, he saw a sand bank
stretching out into the river from-the left bank. He

decided that he would let go of the tree and try to be

swept up on that sand bank by swimming into the cur-
rent that was eddying on to it.

It was a desperate plan, but there was nothing else to
be done.

Timing the moment carefully, he dived into the river,
and was whirled down the river like a cork, narrowly
escaping having his brains dashed out by the very tree
which had been his ark of refuge.

It was almost impossible to swim in that maelstrom,
but he managed with a few powerful strokes to get into
line with the current that swept up to the sand bank.

A few seconds later, he was washed up on it, bruised,
battered and senseless, with his right arm broken by a
collision with a snag.

When he came to his senses, about half an hour later,
he was suffering excruciating pain, but he managed to
drag himself, with a great effort, to his feet, and looked

around to get his bearings.

He was half a mile from the camp, toward which he
crawled with infinite trouble and pain. He must deliver
his message if he died for it.

* * * * * * *

Gen. Hobbs was sitting in his tent, busily writing a
dispatch, when he heard his troopers shouting excitedly

outside. He got up from his chair and raised the tent

flap to see what was the matter.

Judge of his amazement when he saw Buffalo Bill,
drenched and tattered, with his face as pale as death,
staggering toward him, supported on either side by a
trooper.

“Harlett’s Gulch!” gasped the scout, fighting back the
wave of faintness that was sweeping over him.

“Yes—yes?”’ said the general, eagerly.

“Send quickly—make your force a strong one—the
Indians have been re-enforced—hurry, for God’s sake! or
you will be too late.”’

Then the heroic scout fell in a heap at the general’s feet
unconscious.

     
THE BUFFALO

CHAPTER ..XE
THE BAFFLED VENGEANCE OF TULARI NED.

When Buffalo Bill returned to consciousness, it was
five days later.

He was lying in a high-vaulted cave on the bare
ground, and as he slowly came to his senses and looked
around him in a dazed way, he realized that Ss arms
were tightly bound to his sides,

The last thing he remembered was the bicied face of
the general as he gasped out his story to him. Was that
a dream? Was it a dream that he had come down that
fearful river, and slain the pieranee chief? Or was he
dreaming now?

His head was throbbing painfully and his broken arm
gave him acute pain. He closed his eyes for a moment
and tried to think how he could have come into that cave.

When he opened his eyes again, he gazed into the evil

face of Tulari Ned, who was bending over him with a-

look of triumphant malice.
. The border king was a helpless captive in the hands
of his worst enemy!

“How are you feeling?” asked the red- bounded scoun-
drel, in a smooth, sardonic tone. “Not very well, I sup-
pose? Well, you'll feel worse pretty soon.’

“How did you get hold of me?” Buffalo Bill se
faintly.

“Well, I don’t mind telling you that. The old gen-
eral had you put in a field ambulance and sent you off,
with some other wounded men, back to the base. We
happened to ambush the hospital train on the way. My
red friends got quite a lot of scalps, but I saved yours,
for I wanted you to know how you died.”

(You tienda d:

“Oh, go as far as you like in calling me names! I’m
afraid it won't be very much satisfaction for you. Do
you know what I’m going ito do with you? I don’t
believe you could ever guess.”

The renegade drove some sharp stakes into the ground
and pegged: Buffalo Bill to them with ropes, so that he
could not move hand or foot.

Then he went to a corner of the cave and dragged out
: ae bag, which he flung against the Scour, S prostrate

ody

It was a bag of gunpowder!

“Lucky that I had just one bag left,” he muttered.

To the mouth of the bag he attached a long fuse with
several yards spreading out on the ground, and lighted it.

“Now, as nearly as I can calculate, this fuse will burn
for a quarter of an hour,” he said. ‘Pm a generous man,
and [I don’t mind leaving you my watch, so that you can
see how many minutes you have left. to live before you
are blown into the next world. Ill put it here in front of
you, so you can see the minutes crawl. Id like to wait
and keep you company until the fuse got near the end,
but your friends are pressing me pretty close, and I must
make tracks.”

_So saying, the ruffian hastened out of the cave, leaving
his victim alone.

Slowly the fuse burned, and Cody watched his end
drawing near, with the fortitude of a brave man. But he

. grains.

BILD STORIES.

was suffering the utmost refinement of torture. No poor
wretch at the stake ever endured physical agonies that
were worse than his mental tortures.

Five minutes—ten minutes—twelve minutes ticked
away on the face of the watch, and the fuse had nearly
burned down to the bag.

Only a minute was left—only a couple of inches of the
fuse!

The border king murmured a prayer and closed his
eyes, bracing himself for the shock of sudden death.

Suddenly “he heard the rush of feet, and half a dozen
men burst into the cave on the run.

Foremost among them.was California Joe.

With a couple of bounds he had crossed the cave and
flung himself upon the bag of gunpowder, wrenching
away the fuse when it was within half an inch of the black

* * ee * a *

“And how did you find out I was there?” asked Buf-
falo Bill, some time later, as he was lying in a field am-
bulance with all his friends around him.

“We caught that scoundrel, Tulari Ned, jest after he
had left the cave,” said California Joe.

“But surely he didn’t tell you?”

“He didn’t want to—thet’s a fack! But I used some
gentle persuasion, fer I suspicioned he knew all about
you-—an’ presently he coughed up.’

Cody did not ask for details of the “gentle persuasion.”
‘He could make a pretty good guess at its nature. ~

“And where is Tulari Ned?’ he inquired. “Are they
taking him to ’Frisco?”

“Waal, no!’ said California Joe, stroking his beard re-
flectively. “We guessed we couldn’t wait. 1 reckon the
old gin’ral will be purty mad with me. Thar’s what's
left of Tulari Ned.”

He pointed over Cody’s shoulder.

\The king of the scouts turned his head, and saw a body
swinging to the lower branch of a tree about fifty yards
away. :

oe * *k * * *

The resistance of the Indians had been thoroughly ~
broken by the crushing defeat which Gen. Hobbs had in-
flicted on them when he relieved the besieged garrison at
Harlett’s Gulch. They sent in embassies to sue for peace,
and the country was soon thoroughly pacified.

One of the first things Buffalo Bill had to do when he
got out of hospital was to act as “best man” at the wed-
ding of his friend Jack Golder and Gwendoline Rivers.

' THE END,

Next week’s story in this series will be entitled “Buffalo
Bill’s Diamond Hunt; or, The King of Bonanza Gulch.”
It will deal with a series of adventures in Mexico that
were among the most thrilling the border king ever en-
countered in company. with his trusty comradés, Wild
Bill and Nick Wharton... It is a story of diamond hunt-
ing, fighting bandits and tracking Indians, and it abounds
in the sort of incident and adventure that the admirers
of Buffalo Bill love to read about. Every boy should
make a point of getting next week’s number, No. 213,
without fail, as soon as it is published.

(S=> Beware of Wild West imitations of the Buffalo Biff Stories. They are about fi ctitious characters. The Buffalo
Bill weekly is the only weekly containing the adventures of Buffalo es (Col. W. F. Cody), who is known all _

over the world as the king of scouts. —

me

 
 

 

 

 

“ Coataining the Most Thrilling daveatuces of the Colchiated”
Government Scout “BUFFALO BILL’ (Hon. William F. Cody)

 

 

170—Buffalo Bill’s Fair, Square Deal; or, The
Duke of the Dagger’s Dead Lock.

171—Buffalo Bill’s Bold Brigade; or, Injun Joe’s
Burrow.

172—Buffalo Bill on a Hunt for Gold; or, The
Lost Mine of the Cimarrons.

173—Buffalo Bill’s Ride for Life; or, Fighting
the Border Cattle Thieves.

174—Buffalo Bill’s Double; or, The Mephisto of

the Prairie.

175—Buffalo Bill and the Claim Jumpers; or
The Mystery of Hellgate Mine.

176—Buffalo Bill’s. Strategy; or, The Queen of
the Crater Cave.

177—-Buffalo Bill in Morenci; or, The Cat of the
Copper Crag.

178—Buffalo Bill’s Dead Drop; or, The Ghost-

) Scout of Colorado.

179—Buffalo Bill’s Texan Hazard; or, The War
Trail of the Apaches.

180—Buffalo Bill’s Blindfold Duel; or, The
Death Feud in Arizona.

181—Buffalo Bill’s Mexican Feud; or, The: Ban-
dits of Sonora.

182—Buffalo Bill’s Still Hunt; or, The Masked
Men of Santa Fe.

183—Buffalo Bill’s Fiercest Fight; or, The Cap-

tive of the Apaches. -

184—-Buffalo Bill’s Navajo Ally; or, The War
with the Cave Dwellers.

185—Buffalo Bill’s Best Shot; or, Saving Uncle
Sam’s Troopers. °

186—Buffalo Bill’s Girl Pard; or, The Mystery
of the Blindfold Club.

187—Buffalo Bill’s Eagle Eye; or, The Battle of
the Staked Plains.

188—Buffalo Bill’s Arizona Alliance; or, Nay-
ajos Against Apaches.

189—Buffalo Bill’s Mexican Adventure; or, The
White Indians of Yucatan.

190—Buffalo Bill After the Bandits; or, Chasing

: the Wyoming Bank Robbers.

191—Buffalo Bill’s Red Trailer ; or, The Hole-in-
the-Wall Outlaws of Wyoming.

192—Buffalo Bill in the Hole-in-the-Wall; or,
Fighting the Wyoming Bank Robbers.

 

193—Buffalo Bill and the Bandit in Armor; or,
The Mysterious Horseman of the Moun-
tains.

- 194—Buffalo Bill and the Masked Mystery; or,

The Wild Riders of the Wilderness.
195—Buffalo Bill in the Valley of Death; or, The
. Masked Brotherhood.
196—Buffalo Bill in the Land of Fire; or, Nick
Nomad, the Mountain Wanderer,
197—Buffalo Bill in the Den of Snakes; or, The
Search for a Ton of Gold.
198—Buffalo Bill’s Nebraskan Quest; or, The
Secret Brotherhood of the Platte.
199—Buffalo Bill and the Hounds of the Hills;
or, The Traitor Trooperf.
200—Buffalo Bill’s Young Partner; or, The Out-
law Queen’s Cipher Message.
201—Buffalo Bill’s Great Search; or, Bagging
_ Bad Birds in Wyoming.
202—Buffalo Bill and the Boy in Blue; or, The
Ghost Dancers of the Bad Lands.
203—-Buffalo Bill’s Long Chase; or, Nervy
Frank’s Leap for Life.
204——Buffalo Bill's Mine Mystery; or, Conquer-
ing the Brotherhood of the Crimson
Cross.
205—Buffalo Bill’s Strategic Tactics; or, Trail-
ing the Terrible Thirty-nine.
206—Buffalo Bill’s Big Jack Pot; or, A Game
for a Life.
207—Buffalo Bill’s Last Bullet; or, Solving the
Mystery of Robber’s Rock,
208—Buffalo Bill’s Deadliest Peril; or, The Pur- <
suit of Black Barnett, the Outlaw.
209—Buffalo Bill’s Great’ Knife Duel; or, The
White Queen of the Sioux.
210—Buffalo Bill’s Blind Lead; or, The Treasure
of the Commander.
211—Buftalo Bill’s Sacrifice; or, For a Woman’s
Sake.
212—Buffalo Bill’s "Frisco Feud; or, California
Joe to the Rescue.
213—Bufialo Bill’s Diamond Hunt; or, The King
ot Bonanza Gulch:
214—Buffalo Bill’s Avenging Hand; or, Lariat
Larry’s Last Throw,

 

 

 

 

Alf of the abeve numbers always on hand. if you eannot got them from your
mewsdealer, five conts per copy will bring them to you by mall, postpalds

STREET & SMITH, Publishers, 79-89 Seventh Ave., NEW YORK

 

Sa

 

 

 
 

 

CONTAINING THE MOST UNIQUE AND FAS-
CINATING TALES OF WESTERN ROMANCE

 

 

410—Diamond Dick, Jr.’s, Long Shot; or, A Mis-

play at Tonto Pass.

411——-Diamond Dick, Jr., and the Circus Sharps;
or, Crooked Work at Flushville.

412—Diamond Dick’s Black Flyer; or, The Raid

of the Tickabo Terrors.

413—Diamond Dick’s Treasure Train; or, Run

_. Down on the Trestle.

414—Diamond Dick, Jr.'s, Night Ride; or, The
Fight for the ‘““Way-up-in-G” Mine.

415—Diamond Dick’s Signal; or, The Sympathy
Strike at Skiplap.

416—Diamond Dick and the Sandbaggers; or,
Queer Work in the Private Car.

417—Diamond Dick, Jr.’s, Dutch Mascot; or,
Wet Goods at Tickabo.

418—Diamond Dick, Jr., and the Serpent Queen ;
or, The Secret of the Peso-la-ki. .

419—Diamond Dick’s Specter; or, The Phantom
that Won Out.

420—Diamond Dick’s Pay Car; or, Foiling the
Hatchet-Boys.

421—Diamond Dick in Grubstake; or, How the
Trappers Were “Trapped.

422—-Diamond Dick and the Bond Thieves; or,
Handsome Harty’s Barrel of Trouble.

423—Diamond Dick, Jr.’s, Mid-Air Battle; or,
‘The Death Trail of Lightning-that-
Strikes.

424—Diamond Dick, Jr., and the Black-Hands; _

or, On the Trail of the Freebooters.

425—Diamond Dick’s Lone Hand; or, A Game
of Tag at the Tin Cup Ranch.

a ene Dick, Jr., and the “Knock Down”
Men; or, A Mix-Up at Forty Miles an
Hour.

427—-Diamond Dick, Sr s, Switch-off; or, A
Close Shave at Razor Gap.

428—Diamond Dick’s Christmas Gift; or, A Full
House at Pocomo.

429—Diamond Dick Among the Mail Bags; or,
A Round with the Postal Grafters,

430—Handsome Harry’s Hard Fight; or, The
Queer Mystery of the Five Ace Gang.

431—Handsome Harry on the Wolf’s Trail; or,
The Train Robber’s Ambush.

 

432—Handsome Harry’s Strangle Hold; or, The -
Pretty Demon-of the Rockies.

433—Handsome Harry’s Quickest ‘Shot; or,
Drawing the Sting from a Gila.

434—Handsome Harry’s Trump Card; or, The
Bad Man from Texas.

435—Handsome Harry’s Lightning Stroke; or,

The Mutineers of Misery Gulch.
436—Handsome Harry’s Fierce Game; or, The
Moonshiner’s Oath.
437—Handsome Harry in Chinatown; or, The —
Highbinders’ Crimson Compact. _
438—Handsome Harry in the Bad Lands; or, A
Fight for Life in the Bandit Belt.
439—Diamond Dick, Jr.’s, Castle in the Air; or,
The Deadly Duel with Riatas.
440—Diamond Dick, Jr., and the Fire Bugs; or,
The Ten-Strike at Lallakoo.
441—Handsome Harry’s Iron Hand; or, Solving
a Great Diamond Mystery.

442—Handsome Harry’s Treasure Hunt; or,

Three Old Tramps from Tough Luck. |
443—-Handsome Harry’s Steel Trap; or, A Run-
ning Fight in the Rockies.
444—-Handsome Harry with a Hard Crowd; or,
A Blow-up on the Mississippi.
445—Handsome Harry’s Big Round-up; or, The
Beauty of Chimney Butte.
446—Handsome Harry in the Big Range; or,
Hey, Rube, in Arizona.
447—Diamond Dick’s Ghostly Trail; -or, The
Phantom Engine of Pueblo.
448—Diamond Dick’s Boy Hunt; or, a Kid-
- napers of the Sierras.
449—Diamond Dick’s Sure Throw; or, The
Broncho Buster’s Last Ride.

450—Diamond Dick’s Fight for Honor ; or, The

Wizard Gambler.

451—Diamond Dick Afloat; or, The Pirates of
the Pacific.

452—Diamond Dick’s Steeple Chase; or, The
Leap That Won the Race.

453—Diamond Dick’s Deadly Peril; or, A Fight
for Life in the Rapids.

454—Diamond Dick’s Black Hazard; or, The
Feud at Roaring Water.

 

 

 

 

All of the above mumbers always on hance if you cannot got them from your
newsdealer, five cents por copy will bring them to you by mail, postpalds

STREET & SMITH, Publishers, 79-89 Seventh Ave., NEW YORK

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

Adventures of THE AMERICAN HARKAWAY

 

 

HE unflagging interest taken in the fortunes of the immortal Jack Harkaway by young boys, and old hove as well, has for thirty
years been one of the marvels of the publishing world. These stories seem to be just as eagerly sought after and devoured to-day
as when first issued, and myriads of readers ldolize the Bold and Unconquered Jack in much the same spirit as they do

good old Robinson Crusoe. In fact it has become a household name. And yet, there has always been something like a spirit of keen dis-
appointment among American lads because this hero happened to be a Britisher. At last believing the time is ripe to remedy this one
defect, we now take pleasure in presenting a new series, in which, from week to week will be chronicled the wonderful adventures and
madcap pranks of a genuine Yankee lad, who certainly bids fair to out-Harkaway the famous original of this type. In the energetic and
restless Link Rover a unique character has been created, so bold and striking that we confidently expect hig name to presently become
quite a3 familiar among our American boys as those of Frank Merriwell or Buffalo Bill. These. Stories of Adventure and Frolic
at school and abroad are written especially for this series by Gale Richards, who is under exclusive contract to devote his whole time and
attention to this fascinating work. There is not a dull line from beginning to end, because Link Rover believes it is his especial duty and.
privilege to keep things constantly “humming.” So be fairly warned that to commence reading of his eee experiences is to acquira
the “Rover habit,” which clings to one like a leech and is very hard to shake off.

 

 

bes Rover Among the ae or, Playing ae Rover Trapped; or, The Pee of a a

a Bold Game with the Dons. Bubble.
61k Rover Adrift; or, Pranks and Perils on 24—Link Rover and the Money Makers: or,
the Mediterranean. _ Something Not Down on the Bills.
7—Link Rover in Algiers; or, Waking Up a 25—Link Rover in Chicago; or, Making Things
Sleepy Oriental City. Fairly Hum.
8—Link Rover’s Strange Legacy; or, The Auda- 26-—-Link Rover’s Strategy; or, Smoking Out an
cious Lark at Malta. | Old Enemy.
o—Link Rover’s Chase; or, A Yankee Coc 27—Link Rover Among the Shanty Rates
Along the Nile. or, A Roaring Voyage Down the Miss-
10o—Link Rover’s Menagerie; or, Lively Times issippi.
with the Scapegrace. 28—Link Rover’s Flying Wedge; or, Football
11—Link Rover, the Wonder-Worker; or, Sur- Tactics on a River Steamboat. :
prising the Hindoo Jugglers. : 29—Link Rover’s Crusoe Island; or, A Campaign
12—Link Rover’s Jumping Idol; or, Mad Pranks _ of-Humor in the Flood.
in a Chinese Temple. 30—Link Rover’s Surprise; or, The Mischief to
13—Link Rover’s Pirate Junk; or, The 2 1 Pay.
Cruise of the Howling Ghost. ave uel Se He Cotton eo ao
aL f ustling for Fun Down in Dixie Lan
o ey ae ee ae 32—Link Rover's Black Double; or, Mirth and

Mystery on the Old Plantation,
33——Link Rover’s Tame Scarecrow; or, The As-

tounding Racket “Daddy” Played.
16—Link Rover Among the ‘Mormons; or; A 34—Link Rover’s Awful Hoax; or, Comical

* Madcap Frolic in Old Salt Lake City. Deihes Ammons the Lynch

oY gs ong the Lynchers.

17—Link Rover's Warning; or, The Ghastly Sell 3s—Link Rover in Trouble; or, A Picnic nee
on Sheriff Bowie. ’ Down on the Bills.

18—Link Rover’s Glorious Lark; or, Making a Bint Rovers Sueceses be Ee Jinks
Holy Show of the Train Robbers. Among the Moonshiners, ee

15—Link Rover’s Wager; or, Mixing Them Up
on the Limited.

 

19—-Link Rover Stranded; or, Finding Fun ‘on : 37—Link Rover on Deck; or, Screaming Larks
the Road. With Drummers.

20—Link Rover’s Camp Fires; or, A Jolly Jour- 38—Link Rover in Florida; or, Hilarious Times
ney with the Hoboes. ~ Under the Palmettos.

21—Link Rover on Guard; or, Tricks Played on 39—Link Rover Stumped; or, The Prank That
Travelers. . “Froggie’ Planned.

22—Link Rover’s Discovery; or, A Mey Hot 40—Link Rover’s Houseboat; or, A Howling
Time at Denver. Cruise Down Indian River.

   

 

 

 

 

 

 

All of the aboye mumbers always on hand, If you cannot got them from your
newsdealer, five cents per copy will bring them to you by mail, postpalds

STREET & SMITH, Publishers, 79-89 Seventh Ave., NEW YORK

 

 

 

 

 
    

‘

 

|
i

 
 

 

 

 

Gontains the Biggest and Best Stories of All Descriptions. i |
A Different Complete Story Each Week.

_ FOLLOWING IS A LIST

77—-Checkered Trails; or, Under the Palmettoes. By
Marline Manley.

“8—Figures and Faith; or, Messenger Clinton’s Chance.
By the author: of “The Hero of Ticonderoga.”

79—The Trevalyn Bank Puzzle; or, The Face in the ©

Locket. By Matt Royal.

80—The Athlete of Rossville; or, The Isle of Serpents.
By Cornelius Shea.

81—Try Again; or, The Trials and Triumphs of Harry
West. By Oliver Optic.

82—The Mysteries of Asia; or, Among the Komdafs.
By Cornelius Shea.

83—The Frozen Head; or, Puzzling the Police. . By
Paul Rand. :

84—Dick Danforth’s Death Charm; or, Lost in the
South Seas. By the author of “The Wreck of
the Glaucus.”

8s—Burt Allen’s Trial: or, Why the Safe was Robbed.
By W. A. Parcelle.

86—Prisoners of War; or, Jack Dashaway’s Rise from
the Ranks. By “Old Tecumseh.”

87—A Charmed Life; or, The Boy with the Snake Skin
Belt. By the ‘author of ‘Among the Malays,’

88—Only an Irish Boy; or, Andy Burke’s Fortunes.
By Horatio Alger, Jr.

89—The Key to the Cipher; or, The Boy Actor’s Strug-
gle. By Frank J. Farll.

90—-Through Thick and Yhin; or, Foes to the Last.
By Walter J. Newton.

o1—In Russia’s Power; or, How Two Boys Outwitted
the Czar. By Matt Royal.

92—-Jonah Mudd, the Mascot of Hoodooville; or,

; Which Was Which? By Fred Thorpe.

93—Fighting the Seminoles; or, Harry Emerson’s Red
Friend. By Maj. Herbert H. Clyde.

94—The Young Outlaw; or, Adrift in the Streets. By
Horatio Alger, Jr

.o5—The Pass of Ghosts; or,.A Yankee Boy in the Far
West. By Cornelius Shea.

96—The Fortunes of a Foundling; or, Dick, the Out-
cast. By Ralph Ranger.

97—The Hunt for the Talisman; or, The Fortunes of

the Gold Grab Mine. By a M. Merrill.

o8—Mystic Island. The Tale of a Hidden Treasure.
By the author of “The Wreck of the Glaucus.”

o9—Capt. Startle; or, The Terror of the Black Range.
By Cornelius Shea.

1oo—Julius, the Street Boy; or, A Waif’s Rise from
Poverty. By Horatio Alger, Jr.

1o1—Shanghaied; or, A Wanderer Against His Will.

By He OG, Emmet,

102—Luke Jepson’s Treachety; or, The Dwarfs of the
Pacific. By the author of “The Wreck of the
Glaucus.”

103—-Tangled Trails; or, The Mystery of the Manville
Fortune. By Clifford Park. |

104—James, Langley & Co.; or, The Boy Miners of Salt
River. By the author of “Capt. Startle.”

 

OF THE LATEST ISSUES:

105—Ben Barclay’s Courage; or, The Fortunes of a
Store Boy. By Horatio Alger, Jr.

106—Fred Desmond’s Mission; or, The Cruise of the
“Explorer.” By Cornelius Shea.

10o7—Tom Pinkney’s Fortune; or, Around the World
with Nellie Bly. By Lieut. Clyde

108—Detective Clinket’s Investigations; or, The Mys-
tery of the Severed Hand. By Clifford Park.

1o9—In the Depths of the Dark Continent; or, The
Vengeance of Van Vincent. By the author of
“The Wreck of the ‘Glaucus.’ ”

110—Barr, the Detective; or, The Peril of Lucy Graves.
By Thomas P. Montfort.

111—A_ Bandit of Costa Rica; or, The Story of a
Stranded Circus. By Cornelius Shea.

112—Dacey Dearborn’s Difficulties; or, The Struggle of

- the Rival Detectives. By Clifford Park.

113—Ben Folsom’s Courage; or, How Pluck Won Out.
By Fred Thorpe.

114—Daring Dick Goodloe’s Apprenticeship; or, The
‘Fortunes of a Young Newspaper Reporter. By
Phil Willoughby.

115—Bowery Bill, the Wharf Rat; or, The Young Street
Arab’s Vow. By Ed. S. "Wheeler.

116—A Fight for a Sweetheart; or, The Romance of
Young Dave Mansard. By Cornelius Shea.

117—Col. Mysteria; or, The Tracking of a Criminal to

His Grave. By Launce Poyntz,
118—Electric Bob’s Sea Cat; or, The Daring Invasion
of Death Valley. By Robert T. Toombs.
119—The Great Water Mystery; or, The Adventures of
Paul Hassard. By Matt Royal.

120—The Electric Man in the Enchanted Valley; or,
The Wonderful Adventures of Two Boy In-
ventors. By the author of “The Wreck of the
‘Glaucus.’ ”

121—Capt. Cyclone, Bandit; or, Pursued by an Eléc-
tric Man. By the ‘author of “The Wreck of
the ‘Glaucus.’ ”

122—Lester, Orton’s Legacy; or, The Story of the

Treasure Belt. By Clifford Park. _ &
123—The Luck of a Four-Leaf Clover; or, The Re-
united Twins. -By Cornelius Shea.
124—Dandy Rex; or, An American Boy’s Adventures
in Spain. By Marline Manly.

125—The Mad Hermit of the Swamps; of, Ned Haw- _

ley’s Quest. By W. B. Lawson.

126—Fred Morden’s Rich Reward; or, The Rescue of

a Millionaire. By Matt Royal. :

127—In the Wonderful Land of Hez; or, The Mystery —
of the Fountain of Youth. ‘By the author of
the “Wreck of the Glaucus.”

128—Stonia Stedman’s Triumph; or, A Young Me-
chanic’s Trials. By Victor St. Glair.

129—The Gypsy’s Legacy; or, Sam Culver’s Mysteri-
ous Gift. By Cornelius Shea.

130—The Rival Nines of Bayport; or, Jack Seabrooke’s
Wonderful Curves. By Horace G, Clay.

All of the above numbers 2lways on hand. If you cannot get them from your
newsdealer, five cents por copy will briag them te you by mail, postpaid.

STREET & SMITH, Publishers, 79-89 Seventh Ave., NEW YORK

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 
Tn

1 Rea RTE

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