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A WEEKLY PUBLICATION
DEVOTED TO BORDER HISTORY

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issued Weekly. By subscription $2.50 per year. Entered as Second-class Matter at the N. Y. Post Office, by STREET & SMITH, 70-5 S, ,
Y. Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1906, in the Office of ike Librarian of Congress, Was hae, Le oo Avenue,

 

over the world as the king of scouts.

iss” Beware of Wild West imitations of the Buffalo Bill Steries. They are about fictitious characters, The Buffalo
Bill weekly is the only weekly containing the adventures of Buffalo Bill,

(Col. W. F. Cody), who is known aff

 

NEW YORK, April 7, 1906.

Price Five Cents.

 

No. 256.

 

 

‘ OR,

THE MYSTERY OF THE MO}

[AVE.

 

 

{
j

By the author of “BUFFALO BILL.”

 

CHAPTER 1 = ig
THE MYSTERIOUS HAND.

_It was a lovely autumn day in California in the late
sixties, when that great country was still largely unde-
veloped and the lives of the adventurous ranchers and
‘trappers who had made their homes in the Far West
| were by no means safe from the attacks of the Ara-
| pahoes and other yet unconquered tribes of Indians.

| The warm, balmy zephyrs drifted lazily over the quiet
surface of the Kern River, near the Mohave Desert,
Po whispered softly to the trembling forest leaves.
| All nature seemed hushed in silence.

_| But even on this day the river was not absolutely
punrefiled in its tranquillity as it coursed onward to
pempty itself into the group of three lakes near which
ithe town of Bakersfield is now located; for, at a point
(a few miles below Cook’s Peak, a large flatboat was
| drifting at the will of the sluggish current.

§ It is with this boat that the story opens, and with the
| people on it that it will largely have to do.

) Upon its deck, sitting or teclining in easy attitudes,
gwere a dozen or more men. The'r rough carh showed
ythem to be men of the border, and their voices, as well

 

 
 
 
  

 

as their peculiarities of feature, proclaimed them. men
of different nationalities. ;

America, Germany, Ireland, and Africa—each had
representatives among that motley crew of voyagers.
But there was one thing in common about them—that
they all had their weapons close at hand, if not actually
on their persons, a sure proof of their being in a country
where they were subject to attack at any moment by the
dusky denizens of the forest and the plain.

Of all these men there was one who would have
claimed the first glance of the stranger by reason of
his handsome and dashing appearance. He was none
other than the famous Buffalo Bill, the king of the
scouts and knight of the plains.

At that time he was in the full vigor of his manhood.
A giant in stature, a long life upon the frontier had
developed him into a healthy, active, and vigorous man.

As a scout and Indian-fighter, he was superior to
everybody in the West. In strength, it was commonly
reputed that there was but one man who was his equal.

That man was an Indian known as Towering Oak, a
war-chief of the Arapahoes. With him Buffalo. Bill had
fought more than one hand-to-hand encounter without

 
 

oe : THE BUFFALO

either of them gaining a decisive advantage; and it was
partly in the hope of finally settling his accounts with
the doughty Arapahoe that. Buffalo Bill was lingering
in California now, instead of pursuing his usual work
‘as a scout and hunter on the creat plains.

The second man on the boat who might have claimed
notice was Paul Boniface. He also was a well-known
scout, although by no means as famous as William .
Cody, whose companion he had recently been.

Boniface was a man of perhaps forty years of age;

but nobody could have told to a certainty from his face,
for it was covered with a shock of bushy brown whiskers
that concealed all but his brilliant dark eyes, his promi-
nent nose, and ample brow.

As a hunter and scout he was admitted to be expert,
and there was a certain humor in his talk that won
everybody whom he chanced to meet. é

But for all that, Paul Boniface was a curious man.
There was something strange and reserved about him.
All the cross- questionings of his companions as to his

early history failed to elicit any Satisfactory answers.

they could make of a

The third and fourth persons who need some intro-
duction were Captain Chris Watterson and Harry
Pomroy. They were both young men and residents of
a small village located several miles farther down the
river, and known as Pleasant Prairie.

Watterson had been an officer in the army at. one
time, and. had been stationed at several frontier posts
_ where he had gained some experience of Indian-fighting.

Growing weary of military service, he had resigned his
commission and retired to private life, taking up lis
residence at Pleasant Prairie, of which he ‘had become
the acknowledged military leader, although there were
many older men in the settlement.

At any time an attack on the place by the Indians
might be made, and the settlers felt that there could
be no better man to direct the defense than the captain.

The party of hunters and settlers on the flatboat had

been absent for several days on a hunting expecition.

up the river, and they were now on their way home
to Pleasant Prairie.
ful was shown by the number of pelts and trophies
heaped on the deck, to say nothing of large quantities of
jerked meat which would be stored for winter provisions.

Buffalo Bill had, by unanimous vote, been appointed
the leader of the party. And this fact, in a great meas-
ure, accounted for the listlessness and hilarity of the
men on the deck. They knew full well that the border
king would not permit them to run into danger un-
warned.

Thus, while his companions were lounging about at
ease, cracking jokes and spinning yarns, Cody sat upon
a small canoe that was turned bottom upward on the
deck of the boat, his long rifle lying across his lap and
his eyes roaming constantly from shore to shore.

No Indians had been seen for some time, but Buffalo
Bill knew how little the Arapahoes were to be trusted
for anything except to turn up when they were least
wanted.

The flatboat was permitted to drift at the will of the
current—an occasional stroke of an oar or sweep being
sufficient to keep it in the middle of the river.

As the party would be unable to reach Pleasant Prairie
that day, it was their intention to’ pass the coming night

That their trip had been success-

BILL STORIES.

on one of a group of small islands known as the Bars,
a few miles farther down the river.

On rounding a bend of the river, about an hour before
sunset, the watchful eyes of Buffalo Bill detected an agi-
tated motion of the water some distance in advance.

Tiny waves were chasing each other outward from the
eastern shore, but the abruptness of the bend in the
stream concealed from his view what Ws os those
circling wavelets.

Touching Paul Boniface on the shoulder, the king of
the scouts ‘balled his attention to the disturbed condition
of the water, and in a moment the whole crew was on
the tiptoe of excitement.

None of them could make out the cause that produced

_ the circling waves, for, whatever it was,it was moving

faster than they were, and thereby keeping the headland
between them. :

“Well; that’s strange,” commented Boniface. “We
can’t get. a glimpse of the thing, or man, whichever it
ise

“Jyst so,” returned Buffalo Bill, climbing on top. oe
a big pile of pelts, in the hope of getting the desired
view. “But I feel inclined to guarantee there's a red-
skin hugging the shore in the hope of taking advantage
of the bend to keep out of our sight.”

“Then suppose we run him down?” suggested Caen j

Watterson.

“That’s the idea!” exclaimed Buffalo Bill, “Get .
the oars, pards, and work as though a thousand red-
skins were after you.’

The men hastened to the SWEEPS, and in. a few .mo-
ments the big craft was tmoving forward at a rapid

Spee a.

Buftalo Bill aad Boniface mounted the most elevated |
articles on the boat and fixed their eyes with an anxious |
gaze upon the eastern shore several hundred yards be- |
low, expecting that each moment would bring them in |

sight of the object of their eager curiosity.

But whatever that object was, it seemed to retreat |
before them with greater speed than that with which |

they pursued. !

Suddenly, however, they caught a glimpse. of the
sharp stern of a. canoe as it shot from. view around the
bend, the water fairly foaming in its wake. _

This discovery. decided the cause of the circling wave-
lets. Vhere- was a canoe ahead of them hugging the
eastern ‘shore. oa

But. now arose another question:
of that canoe a white man or an Indian?

‘Tf it was an Indian, it was very natural that he should

flee; but if a white man, why should he try to elude :

them, uniess he had mistaken them for enemies?

Thus reasoning, they concluded that it must be an |
and, if so, it argued very strongly that there |
were others in the vicinity, and that it would be well jj

Indian;

for them to be on their guard.

A ¥ew vigorous sweeps of the oars brought the. boat |)
around the bend in the stream, and the men had a |
full view of the river for more than a mile before |

them.

At a distance of some five hundred yards they saw |

that mysterious canoe fairly flying over the surface of
the water. And, to still further add to their surprise,

they discovered that the a of the craft was lying

down within it.
They could only seé ae outlines of his arms. above

Was the occupant t

 

aw

 

 

 

tr

th

 

 
THE BUPFALO

rs, | the gunwale as they plied the paddles. The hands, too,

re
a
he
he

se
of

on
on.

LW

se,
aS

ve

| keeping within sight of it.

 

 

 

| us, he would not be afraid to show himself.

were visible; but the distance was too great to make it

Ipossible to determine their color, :

The settlers now permitted their cumbersome craft

‘to drift at will again on the current. They saw at once

that it was useless to try to run the feathery canoe
down. - roe

As they watched it gliding away into the hazy dis-
ance, the oars flashing in the rays of the setting sun
like spectral wings, they felt that its appearance boded
evil, and that henceforth extreme vigilance and caution
would have to be observed.

As it was some two miles yet to the Bars, and the

'sun was almost down, it was decided that it would be

best to put two scouts ashore to feel the way along either
side of the river until that point was reached.

Not feeling that it was safe to entrust this important
duty to their less experienced friends, the two scouts,
Buffalo Bill and Boniface, said that they themselves
would go ashore and reconnoiter.

As no objection was raised to this proposal, they. were
soon ashore—Boniface on the left side of the river and
Buffalo Bill on the right—carefully threading the deep
forest that fringed each shore. )

‘The scouts moved on in advance of the boat, although
At this point the river was
about two hundred yards wide, and, owing to the density
of the undergrowth along either shore, neither of the
scouts could see the movements of the other, nor could
those on the boat see either of the scouts.

After Buffalo Bill had left, the command of the boat
devolved upon Captain Chris Watterson, who at once

took his post ag a lookout for signals from the scottts.

They had drifted thus for about half-a-mile, when the
captain caught sight of something white fluttering above
the top of a thick clump of bushes on the eastern shore,
directly at the left.

At first he took it for a white strip of cloth tied to
the topmost branch of one of the bushes—in all prob-

) ability one of Boniface’s jokes to test his vigilance—but,

upon closer examination with his field-glasses, he saw
that it was a handkerchief tied to the muzzle of a gun,
the owner of the gun keeping himself concealed in
the undergrowth.
Still Captain Watterson believed that it was a trick
of Paul Boniface’s; but when he caught a glimpse of
the scout moving along the shore several hundred yards

| below the white flag, he knew that he—Boniface—had
| nothing to do with it.
| mystery about the matter that
| pletely.

And so there was an air of
puzzled the captain com-

The boat, in the meantime, had drifted a few rods

| past the fluttering object, and, seeing that it did not
| move, Watterson said to one of the men who was watch-
) ing it with him:

“If it was a friend who wished to communicate with
Therefore,
I’m going to fire into that shrubbery about where an
enemy would’ be concealed.”

The captain raised his rifle as he said this and took
a steady aim at the clump of bushes. But before he
could fire the flag disappeared.

“Ah!? said the captain. “That proves there is some
trickery.”

He lowered his rifle, but he had hardly done so when
the white object appeared again in the same place.

postales yeh corte a2 hte

\ /
sa RO A SS NN ENE AA I NE Ny eR MPN I ia LS Bi

BILL STORIES. 3

_Again Watterson raised his rifle, and again the flag
disappeared. He lowered his rifle again, with the avowed
intention of firing into the shrubbery the next time he
raised it. .

The flag did not make its appearancé again, but, in-
stead, a white hand and arm were thrust above the top
of the bushes.

The men on the boat were about a hundred yards
away, but it was easy to see that the hand and arm
were small and shapely, and Captain Chris would. have
been willing to swear that they belonged to a woman.
And yet he could not believe otherwise than that this

« was some trick or decoy of the Indians.

For a moment the hand continued above the bushes,
moving to and fro in a menacing or warning manner.
Then it disappeared and was seen no more.

Here was food for much conjecture, and for several
minutes there was no little wonder and excitement among
those on the flatboat.

Captain Watterson had begun to discuss. with his
friend Pomroy the advisability of going ashore and in-

_vestigating the matter, when the clear report of a rifle

on the eastern shore rang sharply out upon the silence
and rolled in prolonged reverberations back through the
forest aisles.

With a cry as of mortal pain, Watterson clutched
wildly at his brow and, staggering backward, sank
heavily to the deck.

“Great heavens!’ cried young Pomroy, kneeling by
the supine form-of his friend. “Captain Chris has been
shot dead!’ |

 

CHAPTER ITI.
AT THE BARS.

The wildest excitement prevailed on board the flat-
boat. « :

Believing themselves to be attacked by a party of In-
dians that had escaped the vigilance of Boniface, each
man flew to his rifle, and, when they were ready for
defense, each eye mechanically sought the shore whence
the bullet had come that had stricken Captain Watterson
down. But not a sign of an enemy could be seen.

“Hello, there! What in thunder’s the matter?’

It was the ringing voice of Buffalo Bill that asked
the question. He had heard the report of the: rifie and
saw the commotion on board the boat that followed.
He therefore hurried back along’ the shore to a point
opposite the boat to learn the cause of the excitement.

One of the men on the boat shouted back to him that
an enemy on the other side had killed the captain.

“Put out a boat at once and let me get aboard the
craft,” replied Buffalo Bill. “Is he dead yet, Pomroy?”

“No, thank Heaven!’ Pomroy shouted.

To his joy, he had discovered that the captain had
only been stunned by the bullet, which had plowed an
ugly furrow across his left temple, but had not touched
any vital part. It was, in fact, only a flesh-wound.

One of the small canoes on the flatboat was launched,
and Buffalo Bill was brought on board the craft... He

did not stop to make any inquiries, but at once gave

his assistance to young Pomroy in bringing the captain
to his senses.

By a free use of cold water on the face and head this
was soon effected, and when the captain had recovered
sufficiently to sit up his head was carefully bandaged.

sil ac ac a

 

 
 

 

4 THE BeEFALO

Buffalo Bill now asked:

ae you see the redskin who fired that shot, Pom-
roy?”

“No; he was concealed in a clump of bushes,” returned
Pomroy. “I saw the puff of smoke, and that was
all. It is curious that Paul did not discover the red
rascal.” ay

“It’s pretty hard to see a snake in the grass some-
times, my lad,” said Buffalo Bill. “It’s a strange thing,
but when I first heard the report of the gun I could
almost have sworn it was the identical crack of Paul
Boniface’s rifle. If it were not for this welt on the

captain’s head, I’d have staked my soul it was the report -

of Pauls gun.”

“But
suspicious tone. He had now recovered sufficiently to
think clearly and take an interest in the conversation.

“Great heavens, captain!’ exclaimed Buffalo Bill. “I
hope you don’t think Paul did it. Tl wager anything
he'll give a good account of himself as soon as he shows
1p,” :

Just at this moment Boniface appeared on the river
bank, waving the glossy scalp of an Indian above his
head and shouting triumphantly.

Buffalo Bill shouted back:

“Bravo, Paul! You come out on top every time!’

“Thanks for the compliment, pard!’’ cried Boniface
from the shore. “But it was a tidy hard race I had with
the red devil before | managed to down him. Did he
do any. damage?” :

“Scratched the captain’s head a little, that’s all,” re-
turned Cody. “Do you want to come aboard the boat?”

“As it’s not far to the Bars, I may as weil keep to the
shore,’ replied Boniface.

“Do you think there are any more reds about?’’ asked
- Buffalo Bill.

“Not just around here.
sport this scalp was a scout and all alone.
alone if the wolves have not got to his carcass yet.”

Paul “Boniface turned into the forest and proceeded

I think the lad that used to

rapidly down the stream, keeping a little in advance of

the boat. .

Half-an-hour passed, and the Bars were reached.
They consisted of a dozen or more islands of white
sand, without the least sign of vegetation upon them.
_In fact, they were nothing more than sand-bars which
were under water for a good part of the year.

The island upon which the voyagers landed was the
largest of the group, and was covered around the upper
edge with a lot of old logs and decaying vegetation
which at some previous time had drifted there.

As Buffalo Bill leaped from the boat onto the island
the first thing that caught his eye was the prints of
innumerable moccasins.

“Thunder!” he cried. “There’s been a whole tribe
of redskins on this island, and, if 1 mistake not, within
the past hour.”

Watterson and some of the others wondered how the
king of the scouts could be so sure as to the exact
time, but they had learned to trust his judgment in
such matters, and so they said nothing. |

By this time the shadows of evening were gathering
fast, and arrangements were at once made for spending
the night. :

By the united strength of the party the flatboat was
drawn partly upon the beach, and then, mounting its

watch upon all sides.

where can Paul be?” asked Watterson, in a-

He’s still

BILL STORIES.

deck, the crew produced their supply of provisions and [|
partook of a hearty supper.

The meal over, pipes and yarns were indulged in for
a time by all, excepting Buffalo Bill, who, with his long
rifle resting in the hollow of his arm, kept a ceaseless |

 

   
 

The scout would not allow a fire to be lighted, for |
fear it might show a lurking savage where to aim, |
as they were not beyond rifle-range of either shore. i

So, after their pipes and yarns had been exhausted, [Bi
each of the party rolled himself in a blanket and lay |
down on the dry sand to rest, with his rifle at his side,
ready for instant use.

Soon they were all asleep. i

Besides the deep breathing of his friends, the king |Bi
of the scouts could hear the mournful chirping of a
cricket in the driftwood and the Harsh croaking of a
solitary bullfrog far down the river.

He listened for other sounds, but heard nothing, To
him so much silence boded evil. When he could hear
the hoot of the owl, the scream of the night-hawk, the |if
ery of the whippoorwill—in fact, a general chorus of
all animated nature—he knew that no lurking enemy
was near. os

The moments dragged wearily on, and all the while
the darkness seemed to be deepening over the Bars. |‘‘o
Still, the great scout was in a manner accustomed to |
such nights of darkness, and he never for an instant |
ceased his vigilance until he was induced to do so by
the sight of a very strange phenomenon.

In the middle of the river, about two hundred yards
from the Bars, he saw a dull-red light swinging to and |
fro like a pendulum. But he was unable to tell by what |
power it was produced, and how it came there, or what |
it really was. |

So intently did Buffalo Bill fix his gaze—in fact, his |
whole attention—on this strange object that he failed |
to see and hear a shadowy figure moving among the |)
sleepers behind him—stopping by each one, taking up |
his rifle, removing the charge, and then moving on to the ©
next, i
It was not strange that, with his attention distracted, |-
the border king failed to hear this mysterious prowler. |
for the latter moved like a serpent, and the sand muffled 9) -
the sound of his footsteps.

Buffalo Bill kept his eyes upon the bar of light. Pres- J
ently its oscillations began to grow shorter and shorter §
“ finally it came to a rest. A

Buffalo Bill started, and his fingers tightened upon
the barrel of his rifle.

The object had changed its form.

Instead of the dull bar of light, he beheld five letters |7-
of fire gleaming through the darkness like the red eye |
of doom, and throwing their long, skeletonlike rays far )} .
out into the gloom.

When his eyes had become accustomed to the dazzling |7
glare of the light he started with a feeling of mysterious |}
awe, for he saw that those five glowing letters formed |)
the word “Death!” . is

“Death!” repeated the scout to himself. “Is this a |
warning of impending doom? It may be so! I told |)
them there was death in the air. But by what power |)
is such a warning given?”

He looked again. He was not superstitious ordinarily, | 1
and his sturdy common sense speedily came to his
rescue,

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

THE BUFFALO

and || “Surely there is some human agency about it,” he
muttered to himself.
for | “There must be, Buffalo Bill.”

ong || The king of the scouts wheeled. swiftly and saw that .

less [jt was Captain Watterson who addressed him. He had
arisen from his sleep, and, approaching the scout, had
for Ibverheard his words, and at the same time had seen

1m, the letters of fire. :
| “Well, captain,” said the border king, “it beats, me!
ed, (But be silent!”

lay | They bent their heads low and listened. They heard
ide, whe quick plash of oars and the ripple of water in the
Wvicinity of the mysterious object.
| “There! It is gone!’ suddenly exclaimed Buffalo
ing JBill, in @ whisper. :
True enough, quick as a flash, like a falling star, the
a letters of fire disappeared and all was dark.
There was a momentary silence, and then the scout
continued :
__ “T wish I knew how to act and benefit by that warning,
if it was meant for us. I know myself there are red-
skins about, but I defy them to get onto this island
while I’m awake without my knowing it in time.”
“It may be some device of the outlaws who, as. well
fas the Indians, infest these parts,” said Captain Chris;
“or it may be the threat.of some enemy, instead of the

warning of a friend.” - .
int | “Confound these mysteries!” exclaimed Buffalo Bill.
by “Well, I suppose we’vé got to accept this as a mys-

tery and watch out for its solution and result.’
And so they did. Captain Chris did not lie down
nd again, but remained along with the king of the scouts
lat fto watch for the coming events which they, believed had
been already foreshadowed in the letters of fire.
Another hour passed, but there was not a sound to

 

 

             
 
   

11S Ybreak the mournful and ominous silence of the night.
ed | Even the voices of the forest and the low murmur
he fof the water seemed hushed in the silence of death.

up | At last the great round moon rose and flooded the

he forest and river with its mellow radiance.

a

é The fog,
_which had been thick at the beginning of the night, soon

(es

    
 
  
   
  
  

d, | faded away, and only that white, smoky haze peculiar to
-T. ithe Indian summer hung over the landscape. ,

ed ) The king of the scouts and Watterson scanned the
__ (ftiver closely in hopes of obtaining a view of the per-
S~ ison or persons who had produced the letters of ‘fire.
<" But they saw nothing, for the trees on the eastern shore
. Ystill cast their long, dark shadows out upon the bosom

{f the river,

| “Great heavens!” exclaimed the border king. “How
) Boniface snores! He must be sleeping the sleep of the

: just.” :
ar). Chey are all sleeping as if they were in San Fran-

:
"cisco instead of an Indian country,” returned Watterson.
a “I know, but I’m afraid Paul’s snoring will be the
eath of both of us some day. Why, he snores at night
so loudly sometimes, when we are out hunting together,
that he makes the coyotes howl.”
af “You are a ~ the captain began; but at this mo-
id |jment the scout sprang away from his side as quickly
sr |/as though he had suddenly become conscious of stand-
}'ng on red-hot coals. oo
yf He gazed down at the ground where he had been.
is j standing with a strange and puzzled expression upon his
}'ton features. oe

  

iS
18

d

 

' like roll from the sand; for no sooner did his fingers

Hp didn sleoa NU enh alah) na Wer eid decks oreo

a

BILL. STORIES. 5

Captain Chris advanced and again stood by his side.

“What is the matter, Cody?” he asked. .

_T felt the sand move under my feet!” the border
king replied, looking strangely at his friend.

The captain suppressed an outburst of laughter, and
replied : :

“That is, you mean you felt your feet sinking in the
sand under the pressure of your weight.”

“No, that was not it. I felt the sand move under my
feet—I felt something move under the sand.”

“A mud-turtle, Pll guarantee, burrowed there,” replied
Watterson, with a pleasant chuckle.

“Turtle or no turtle, I’m going to see about it,” said
the border king, whereupon he sank down upon his knees
and began scratching in the sand where he had stood.

Captain Watterson felt somewhat amused, yet he
watched the scout with deep interest.

The moon was shining full upon the spot, and he was
not a little startled when he saw his friend dig from
the sand the end of a roll of black, braided hair.

The scout did not pull the length of the dark, snake-

touch it than he jerked them away again as though it
aad been the slimy form of a serpent. »

Springing to his feet, he seized Watterson by the
arm and fairly dragged him to the opposite side of the
island.

The captain saw that he was terribly excited—a thing
most unusual for him. His ordinarily calm features were
wrought with a wild and startled expression.

“What’s the trouble, Cody?” he asked. “Don’t pinch
my arm so, man: ew

“Great Heaven, Watterson!’ he exclaimed. “We're
in an awful position!”

“Why so?’

“T have made a discovery.”

“What is it?”

“You remember I said I felt something move under
my feet s)

“Ves.” :

“There is a live Indian lying there, covered under the
sand 1”

It was the captain’s turn now to start.

“How do you know that?” he asked.

“Did you see that black roll 1 scratched out of the
sand ?”

es

“Well, it was the end of an Indian’s scalp-lock. I
felt it move and dropped it like a hot potato. Heaven
only knows how many more of the red devils lie hidden
under the sand!”

“That’s absurd, Cody! A man could not live buried
under a pile of sand.”

“T know that, captain; but see here! Their bodies”
are buried under the sand, while their heads are hidden
on the surface by those little clots of weeds and leaves
that we didn’t examine into when we last searched,
simply because we never dreamed of only an Indian’s
head being under them. And then, there was nothing
suspicious about the clots, either. I tell you, it’s a mighty
cunning trick to get our scalps. And I'll tell you
more—there’s a traitor in our midst!”

“What makes you think so?’ asked Watterson.

“Well, you see, these Indians—if there is a pack of
them here—have got word some way or other that we

 

ASS Ps)
ena ee toner ee ert Sea a raat

 
 

60 THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES. re

were going to stop on this island, and they have hurried
on and hidden themselves.”

“Then: they have heard that we were going to stop
here since noon, for not until that time did we conclude
to stop overnight at the Bars. And you know that
since noon not one of the crew save you and Boniface
' has been ashore or had any chance to confer with an
enemy. So if there is a traitor in the party it is Paul
Boniface—for you, Cody, are far beyond suspicion.”

“Captain, if you weren’t Chris Watterson, I’d call you
out for a duel for those words.”

The captain smiled.

“Why so?” he’ asked.

“For saying Paul Boniface, my friend and companion
on the trail, is a traitor. No—no, captain! Paul has

been tried—he has proved to be as true to his people as -

the needle to the. pole,”

“T only meant that if there was a traitor among us at
all, it was Paul; for none of the rest of the party has
been ashore since we concluded to stop here. I can-
not think there is a traitor at all among us.”

“You may be right, captain; but there’s something
very strange about it. If there is a pack of redskins
covered there in the sand, they are there for our scalps.
They knew we were going to stop here to-night, and
hurried on and concealed themselves here with the aid
of some others, who skulked off to the woods after doing
all they could to conceal all traces of their work.”
~ “But how did they know we were going to stop
here? :

“There you've got me! I reckon they just guessed
it. Perhaps their instinct told.them so, and my instinct
tells me that there is more than one Indian buried under
those weeds and leaves.” a

“If such is the case, the number concealed there is,
without a doubt, strong enough to overpower us.”

“Yes, and unless we get out of here pretty quickly
the sand of this island will be wet with our blood!”

 

CHAPTER: IT

THE WORK OF A TRAITOR.

The scout’s words sent a thrill of horror through the
veins of Captain Watterson, chilling his blood.

He was not a coward, by any means, but the con-
sciousness of an unknown number of savages lying at
his feet, waiting for some quick signal to begin their
work of death, was such as might make the bravest man
shudder.

The captain had spent much of his life upon the fron-

tier, had had many narrow escapes from death; yet he |

did not know how to face the present emergency. So
he turned to his friend and asked:

“What are we to do, Cody?”

“Tl tell you,” said the scout, still speaking in a whis-
per. “There are three canoes on the flatboat, and they'll
hold all twelve of us. We'll have to take to them and
get from here as quickly, as we can.

“The flatboat and its cargo we'll have to leave behind
or send adrift, and stand our chances of getting it be-
low. It’s too heavy to try to get away with in a hurry.
First let us go and launch the canoes. We can do it
alone without exciting suspicion, for Ill warrant the
cunning fellows will be on the watch.”

And ‘so the two again returned to the upper side of

the island and proceeded to launch the canoes from
the deck of the flatboat. This they soon accomplished
without creating a sound that was audible even to their
own acute hearing.

Yet they were closely watched. A pair of traitorous
eyes noted every movement that they made.

When the canoes were ready to embark in Buftalo
Bill whispered to Watterson to go and awaken their sleep-
ing friends, one at a time, so that there would be no
undue excitement, and break to them the news of their
danger and the course that was about to be taken to
avert it.

In a very short time the whole party had assembled
at the upper side of the island, and in low tones dis-
cussed the threatening danger. All were quite willing
to adopt the course proposed by Buffalo Bill, with the
understanding that when the shore was reached they
would all keep a watch upon the island, and if it were
proved beyond a doubt that only the one Indian was
concealed there they would return to the flathoat and its
cargo.

The division of the party now commenced, according
to the size of the canoes. Boniface and four of the
men were to take the largest. Another party of four
was to take the next largest, while Buffalo Bill, Watter-
son, and Harry Pomroy were to take the smallest.

In a moment the three last named had taken their
seats in the canoe. Buffalo Bill then took up the paddle
and drove the craft a few yards from the flatboat, when
he stopped for the other canoes. :

The other parties entered their canoes .and seated
themselves. Then they tried to push off from the bar,
but the prows of the little crafts, under their respective

weights, had become imbedded in the sand, and refused

to part company.

This mishap proved fatal. During the confusion con-
sequent upon the attempt to get off the bar a low whistle
tang out from the lips of one of the crew.

The next instant there was heard a dull sound, like
the fluttering of heavy, damp forest leaves upon the
island. Then, like so many spirits of evil conjured up

from the lower regions, there arose fully two-score of
_ dark forms from the sand.

With a yell, they rushed toward the boats.

Buffalo Bill’s suspicions had proved, alas! only too
true,

In a moment a dozen rifles were leveled upon the
advancing shadows.

Only one out of the dozen cracked—only a single
savage fell dead. a

All but Buffalo Bill’s piece missed fire. They had
been tampered with by the hand of a traitor while all
but the king of the scouts slept.

Here was a fearful position! Only a dozen men, and
one of them a traitor! But which one? Whose low
whistle had been the signal that called the savages from
their cunning covert?

“It’s no use, boys!” cried Buffalo Bill.
trayed !”

“Pull for your lives!” yelled Watterson.

At this moment two of the savages jumped into the
water and seized the canoe in which were the border
iste and his two friends, and attempted to drag it
ashore.

But Buffalo Bill was on the alert.

“We are be-

He rose quickly

upon his feet and with a single stroke of one of the

 

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paddles he brushed the two warriors away with such
force that their bodies left a perceptible channel behind
them in the water. Before it was closed a sweep of
both paddles carried the canoe beyond reach.

The king of the scouts now turned his attention to
the other canoes. Both of them had succeeded in getting
a little distance from the shore, but six or eight warriors
weré clinging to each one and a desperate conilict was
going’ on.

Buffalo Bill saw Boniface, erect in his canoe, swinging
his clubbed rifle with deadly menace above his head and
shouting at the top of his voice.

It was not the intention of Buffalo Bill:to desert his
friends in this trying moment, and he turned the head
of his canoe to go back and assist them when he saw
the plight in which they were in. But as he did so a
chorus of death-shrieks rent the air, and form after form
in the two canoes fell over, apparently ‘dead. - The
massacre seemed to have been complete,.

“It’s no good!” cried Harry Pomroy. ‘They are done
for, poor fellows! There’s nothing for us to do but to
save ourselves!” ve :

Buffalo Bill, recognizing the truth of this, turned the
canoe round again and made for the shore. The lives
of his two companions were at stake, and he—the man
in charge of the paddles—had no right to tisk them
needlessly and uselessly.

Suddenly the snapping of a twig and the hurried tramp-
ing of moccasined feet warned “the king of the scouts

|jithat a new party of enemies was in search of them. He

had now drawn close to the shore.
~It was evident that a hasty retreat was the only way
of preventing an encounter with the skulking and too

|jnumerous foe in the impenetrable darkness.

Buffalo Bill, paddling as silently as he could, rowed

 

at a tangent and succeeded in landing higher up, and

fisoon he and his two friends had eet the a of

the woods.

‘The border king led the way.
followed and imitated his movements sO perfectly that
not a sotind was made. ©

Half-a-mile had been thus traversed wher: they halted
and listened. They thought that they might hear some
sound which would tell them whether any of the sav-
ages were near. But not a sotnd—not even the hum
of an insect—broke the awful silence of the wilderness.
~ The three friends seated themselves on the trunk of
a fallen tree to take council together as to their next
course. But they remained. silent for a few minutes,

| oppressed by the stillness around them.

Buffalo Bill was the first to speak.

“Our hunting trip is turning out to be an excursion
of death,” he remarked erimly.

A moment of silence followed this remarks and then
Captain Watterson said:

“Well, what are we to do, Cody? We cannot re-
main idle here?’ :

“No; but we can do nothing to-night—that’s plain
enough. The Arapahoes have broken loose again, and

‘there’s no telling where they will end. We ‘might as

well go to my place—the Deadfall—and stay there till
morning, Then, sat least, we'll have daylight for what-
ever is before us.’

Watterson and Pomroy’ looked up with keen interest
at this suggestion.
2 7] knew you had a secret retreat somewhere around

sie (Pulachisr tibial

THE BUFFALO

ie two companions .

tir pee strc tec ce hasnt Has eA at Bi cnt si iin

  

BILE STORIES. eG

this section, Buffalo Bill,’ said the latter, “but I didn’t
‘know it was right by here. The people at Pleasant —
Prairie have talked about it. No one could ever find
out where it was.’

“No, I didn’t mean that they should,” replied Cody
dryly. “If they did, it wouldn’t be secret any longer.
I try and find some safe and sure retreat in any country
where I have to do much hunting or trapping, I have
one in Wyoming, another in Kansas, near the Platte
River, and a third right by here.”

‘But why do you call it the Deadfall?” asked Watter-
son. “It’s a’ curious name.’

“I didn’t christen it,” said the scout, with a grim
chuckle. “That was done by the Arapahoes.”
oP Aned why) 3s

“Because I’ve been able to make it a place of death
to every savage who: has tried to intrude there. You
will see how that is when you arrive.”

The three men rose to their feet and resumed their.
journey through the forest silently, traveling with an
ease and rapidity that showed their acquaintance with
the country.

As they went onward not a word was spoken, and
there was scarcely a sound from their footfalls.

Finally they descended a steep, wooded hill and found
themselves in a narrow, black defile through which a

‘ small stream of water coursed its way.

In a clump: of bushes on the bank of this rippling
stream the three friends halted. It was a dismal, dreary
spot.

“Well, boys,” said Buffalo Bill, “do you know where
you are standins’ now?”

. “No-not exactly,” responded Harry Pomroy.

“We are in the Devil’s Gorge, or the Haunted Valley,
as they call it—near the edge of the Mohave Desert.
You have heard men speak of the Mystery of the
Mohave? Well, here it is!”

The young men shuddered. Like all frontiersmen in
that part of the country, they were a little superstitious,
especially in regard to the place called the Devil’s Gorge.

By the settlers thereabouts this valley was regarded

with about the same spirit of awe and fear that the
Indians viewed the Deadfall of Buffalo Bill.
. Although the scout had seen strange things—such
things as involved the mind in great mystery—he laughed
to scorn all reports of the valley being the abode. of
the evil one, as many of the superstitious settlers be-
lieved it was.

“Well, from all accounts, the place bears some’ re-
semblance to the abode of the old gentleman after whom
it-is named,”. remarked Watterson, attempting a smile
of indifference.

precisely, ¢
fore us!”

“Now add to your imaginative picture,’ said Buffalo
Bill, “a snow-white horse “and rider flitting through the
valley ; and then a creature half-beast and half-human—
in fact, the devil himselfi—mounted upon a wild bull
that goes thundering up and down the creek. Do all
this, and you'll heighten the colors of your mind’s-eye
sketch of the Haunted Valley.”

“Then you really believe that this place is haunted?
You mean to say that you have seen these creatures | o
asked Captain Chris. 2

“I do, most emphatically,’ returned Buffalo Bill.
“But, mind you, I don’t say they are spirits or ghosts.”

added Pomroy, “and here’s the Styx be-

i detest i ies entyeiuln lindo tern

 

 
 

 

oo ‘THE BUFFALO

“Then what are they?”

“Well, we all know that there is a den of outlaws
somewhere in this neighborhood. The Robbers’ Hidden
Ranch has been the talk of every one for the last six
months or more.

“Now, ‘I believe these spooks, which the Indians con-
tend have been here ever since the morning stars sang
together, are nothing but those very robbers, although
I have failed repeatedly in my efforts. to find their den.
It’s hidden, sure enough, but if I could get the settlers all
out some time this valley would get a pretty thorough
scouring.”

“It is: very probable, and—” began Pomroy, when
he was suddenly interrupted by a sound like the clatter-
ing of hoofed feet.

“Ah! cried Buffalo Bill sharply. “Look, boys!
comes one of them now!”

Even as he spoke, a Snow while horse, mounted by
a rider robed in white, flitted past them.

This mysterious rider was going up the gorge, fol-
lowing the course of the stream and riding in the water,
which was quite shallow, yet which served, in a measure,
to muffle the sound of the animal’s hoofs‘as they came
in contact with the stony bed of the creek.

“Well,” said Buffalo Bill, when the sound of the
hoofs had died away in the distance, “what do you
think of that for the White Rider of the Devil’s Gorge?”

“T think the rider is a genuine being, and I'll venture
my life that this creek is the trail leading to the Robbers’
Hidden Ranch,” replied Watterson.

“That’s just what I think,” said Cady. “But T de fy
any one not belonging to their gang to find it. ive
searched every hole and, corner from the river to the
falls and not fourid a single trace of the den.”

“That's strange,’ remarked Captain Cnris.

“Tt is most mysterious,” said the scout; “but, for all
that, I can’t help believing there’s a robbers’ den hidden
somewhere about this gorge, and I mean to find it sooner
or fater,”

“Hark! 9?

It was Harry who uttered this exclamation, but the
same sound that had called it forth had been heard
by his companions,

It was a sound resembling the low bellow of a bull,
mingled with the swash of water and the dull, heavy
tread of ‘hoofed feet that seemed to jar the very earth.

The next moment Chris and Harry shrank backward
from the object that burst upon their view, and in-
voluntarily they crouched down in the bushes.

‘They were not cowards in thus concealing themselves,
but their minds were not prepared for the strange and
fearful sieht before which they recoiled.

What did they see? .

The, head, the shoulders, and the arms of a man
clothed, or disguised, in the skin of a mountain-lion, even
to the claws of the feet, which were upon his hands,
and to the ferocious head, which seemed lifelike as it sat
like a cat upon his head.

His face was concealed by the long hair that fell over
it from the jaw of the lion’s head.

Without line or bridle, this grim creature bestrode a
huge, shaggy beast of the buffalo species, whose eyes
glowed like balls of fire, and whose white horns looked
like small spectral arms stretching outward in the dark-
ness to clutch the man who should be bold enough to
stand in the path.

Here

 

BILL. STORIES.

In one hand the grim, demonlike rider held a blazing
torch, whose red light ‘revealed his form and that of
the animal he rode.

From the red, dilated nostrils of the beast the hot
breath came in quick pants; his flanks were white with
foam, and his dark, shaggy coat was dripping with the
water that his hoofs had dashed up in his wild, swift
career.. The animal appeared as wild and ferocious as
though it were just from its native plain, but seemingly
it obeyed any impulse of its rider’s will.

The grim creature was going in the same direction,
and equally as fast, as the white horseman that had
preceded them. Before the three friends could realize
clearly what they had seen it was gone, and they stood
alone in the gloom and silence of the woods.

Buffalo Bill looked at the pale faces of his companions
and concealed a smile.

“What do you think of that. for ne Demon of the
Gorge?” he asked.

“A demon, sure enough!” exclaimed Watterson.

“What is your opinion of it, Cody?” asked Harry..

The border king laughed in a low, quiet manner as
he toyed with the hilt of the knife in his belt.

“The buffalo,” he said, “is a new idea; but the dress-

ing-up in an animal’s skin is an old dodge. I have
played it myself more than once. The rider is nothing
more nor less than one of Bill Kendrake’s robbers—
maybe the robber chief himself.

“The next time I get sight of that demon I propose.

to try the virtue of my rifle on him. This makes the
third time I have seen it, but I never had the chance of

Sa. Shnt e

“Then there is not a doubt in my ae now that this
tre i--— »

Here again silence was imposed upon the To by
the sound of footsteps in the water.

The three listened intently.

They started and then quickly crouched low in the
bushes.

In the center of the stream they saw the outlines of
a dozen or more shadowy figures wading in single file
up the stream,

“Indians !? whispered Buffalo Bill.

But low as he spoke the words seemed to have fallen
upon the ears of the grim shadows, for, with a fearful
war-whoop, they sprang from the stream and confronted
the three friends..

“Back, boys!” exclaimed the scout. “Run tor it

The three turned and hastily went back up the hill:
but at the same instant a long line of gleaming torches,
carried by at least forty savage warriors, appeared on
the crest of the hill before them—some to the left and
some to the right.

“We are surrounded, boys! !” cried Buffalo Bill.
must cut our way out or die in the attempt!”

 

CHAPTER IV.
AY, THE, DEADEALL.

Buffalo Bill had a double motive for the action which

followed his words. He flung himself upon the ground

and commanded his two companions to follow his ex-[)

ample.

One idea was to escape the bullets of the savages on|)
the cliff before them, and the other was to expose those]) -

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THE BUFFALO

behind them at the same time to the fire of their com-
rades. ee a :

It was quite evident that the Indians had been follow-.

ing them ever since they left the river, and had planned
their capture at this point. :

But their plans had not been laid with their usual.

caution.

For the instant that the three friends got upon their
faces a shower of bullets from the rifles of those upon
the cliff whistled over them and struck down several
of those who were advancing from the creek behind.

All this the quick eye of Buffalo Bill had instantly
foreseen, and he had acted accordingly. =

The result was that no sooner had the savages dis-
Kee their fatal mistake in shooting down their own

comrades than they discovered also that the three whites
had made their escape. 3

The three had arisen from the ground, dashed across
the stream, and hidden themselves from’ view in a deep
shadow of the gorge before the savages could recover
sufficiently from their consternation to give pursuit.

While Buffalo Bill and his friends were now lost to
sight, the redskins stood plainly revealed in the glare
a torches as they gathered around their dead com-
rades.

The white men could have shot down several of them
with ease had they been so disposed. But to do so
would have shown their own position and endangered
them; so, taking advantage of their enemies’ troubles,
they glided away through the woods as rapidly as was
consistent with taking precautions against new dangers.

The redskins did not follow, and at last the three

 

friends slackened their pace and went along at an easy

pace.

Several miles were traveled, and then they came to
a clearing, or, rather, a treeless swamp. On a little
dry mound there stood a solitary log-cabin. This was
the Deadfall—the headquarters of Buffalo Bill when he
was in California.

Before entering the swamp the king of the scouts

halted his companions in the shadow of a large tree, and
said, as he pointed across the moonlit space:

“There—over yonder it is! You can see the Deadfall
from here.”

The young men gazed with no little curiosity upon the
famous place of which they had heard so much, and
which, for the first time, they were permitted to see. _

The moonlight only permitted a partial, or obscure,
| view of the place, yet that was sufficient to show them
) the advantages it possessed.
_. The cabin, as before stated, stood in the center of
the swamp, upon the apex of a little pyramid-shaped
mound, and could only be approached from the south
side... ae

This was owing to the approach being obstructed on
the other sides by a ragged line of high, projecting
rocks, while at their basement lay a channel of deep
water. The latter impediment prevented the rocks from
being scaled by friend or foe, unless there was a canoe
in which to receive them.

With the exceptions of the water and the mound upon
which the cabin stood, the Swamp was densely. covered

| with a growth of tall reeds and aquatic plants, among
| which rioted troops of frogs, lizards, and serpents.

Inasmuch as the cabin—from the outskirts of the

|, swamp—was beyond the range of the common rifle, such

BILL STORIES. | v

as the savages possessed, Buffalo Bill had never been
molested by stray bullets; while at the.same time, if a
savage was seen lurking around the swamp; he was sure
to prove the victim of the scout’s long-range rifle.

At times the swamp was under several feet of water,
but at the period of which we write there was but little
water in it. The mire, however, was deep and treacher-
ous, and a greater obstacle, by far, to overcome than the
water.

The only way in which it could be crossed was ‘by

stepping from one to the other of innumerable tussocks .

of a species of wire-grass which grew thickly all over
the swamp.

Even at this, one was likely to plant his foot upon

the slimy form of a lizard or the wriggling folds of
a serpent that had perched itself upon the green, velvety
top of the tussock, thereby causing him to make a mis-
step and plunge him into the treacherous mire, as many
a cunning savage, in attempting to cross it, had found

at the cost of suffocation.
Some had escaped to warn others of the dangers of the

Deadfall.

Buffalo Bill, however, had, after a long time, become |

familiar with the swamp, or moat, as he called it, and
by using a little precaution he experienced no difficulty
in crossing it,

He had selected a zigzag line of tussocks, which were
used for “stepping-stones,’ and which were sufficiently
firm and close enough to each other to admit of an easy
passage across, when the course was once known. But
without this knowledge it would have been impossible to
follow the winding trail among the dense reeds.

This was just. what Buffalo Bill wanted. However,
Paul Boniface, who of late had become his daily com-
panion, knew the secret of the trail. -Excepting the
berder king, he was the only white man living who
possessed the key to the Deadfall. eae

It was not Buffalo Bill’s desire or intention that the
secret path to his cabin should become known to every
one who had claim upon his friendship, for fear of
treachery. But, as with Paul Boniface, he had no fear
or reluctance in taking Harry and Captain Watterson
into his confidence.and giving them the protection of his
stronghold. ca

“Well, what do you think of it?” he asked, after his
two friends had taken a view of the surroundings.

“Rather a gloomy spot for a habitation,” said Harry.
“Yes, with the croaking frogs and hooting owls,”

added Captain Watterson. :

“Well, | don’t mind them,” the scout replied, leaning
upon his heavy rifle and gazing away toward the cabin,
which was dimly visible above the reeds. “It is no use
standing here, boys, so we might as well begin our tramp
over the moat.
you have got to plant your footsteps pretty carefully,
or you will find yourselves in the mire among the frogs
and snakes. Support yourselves by the reeds, and don't
step till you know exactly where you are going to set
your .foot.”

“We'll follow you as closely as we can,” said Wat-
terson.

The three men at once slung their rifles over their
shoulders, so that they would have the free use of
their hands. Then Buffalo Bill took the lead, and, after
several minutes’ hard walking, they found themselves

But before we start let me tell you that

 

 

 
SS

 

 

 

  

10 | THE BUFFALO:

upon the little mound in the center of which stood the
cabin.

The mound' was shaped like a low pyramid, the base
being about ten rods in diameter, and sloping gradually
upward on all sides to the apex. It was covered with
a growth of fine, fuzzy grass, while around the outer
edges was a border of dense reeds and wide-leafed
aquatic « lants.

“Stop here, boys,” the king of the scouts said, as soon
as they set foot upon the mound. ‘‘Waif till I look
to see if there are signs of any intruders. Boniface
and I always leave things just so, and if a rabbit crosses
the mound we can tell it.”

“Then it wil: be impossible for either friend or foe to
cone here while you are absent without your knowing
it,” said Harry. j

“That’s it exactly,’ returned the scout, as he moved
away, leaving the young men to reflect on his great
precaution—the key to his success as a scout and Indian-
fighter. | ee

In a few minutes he returned and reported that every-
thing was just as he and Boniface had left it several
days before; and so he at once conducted his two friends
to the cabin,

At the door he paused and carefully examined its
fastenings, which were arranged in an original and pecul-
iar manner. Finding them exactly as he had left them,
he opened the door and ushered his companions into
the room. :

“Here we are,” he said. “In safety, but total dark-
ness. However, I'll make things look brighter for you.”

In a few minutes he had a clear fire burning on the
stone hearth. Its light enabled the young men to look
around, They saw that the building was divided ino.
two rooms by a partition of skins, while overhead was
a lot of closely fitting slabs and\an opening leading into
it from the room adjoining.

The main structure was built of logs and chinked
with stone and mortar, and was in every respect well
finished. In one corner of the room was a trap-door,
with ring and staple, which opened into a cellar in
which the scout kept his commissariat supplies for winter
use.

The three friends removed their rifles from their backs
and put them in a rack upon the wall. Then they
seated themselves around the fire, for the air about
the Deadfall was chilly and damp.

Harry was the first to speak.

“Well, I should think we ought to be safe enough
nere,” he said.

“How did you manage to build this cabin?’ asked
Watterson. “I
to drag the logs here.”

“T didn’t build it,” the king of the scouts replied.” “‘It
was a legacy to me. It used to be the home of an old
scout and trapper whom I saved from death once when
a mountain-lion had him down. He let me into the
secret of the place, and when he died he made it over
to me. ee

“But we had better have something to eat. There is
plenty of grub, such as it is, down in the cellar. 1 will
just drop down and bring up something.”

“We sha’n’t object to it in the least,” replied the
captain.

The scout lighted a lamp, raised the trap-door—which

  

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should think it would be hard work

BILL STORIES.

was in a corner, behind the cabin door—and descended
into’ the cellar,
In a few minutes he returned with some dried veni-

son, buffalo-jerk, and maize bread, which he placed upon

a rough table at one side of the room.

He then turned to close the cellar trap, but, as he
passed near the cabin door, his attention was attracted
by a slight noise outside.

His curiosity was at once aroused. There was a
wicket on the door which he carefully pushed aside, at
the same time preventing the light from streaming out
by shading it with his hand. Placing’ his eye to the
opening, he peered out.

The moon was shining full upon the mound and moat,

and, having looked over the more distant objects, Cody’

looked down a little to the right.

- To his surprise and horror, he saw an Indian warrior
with his ear pressed against the door in a listening atti-
tude. , a

The king of the scouts was amazed beyond expression

at seeing a savage there, but he showed no undue excite-

ment. Calmly and silently he closed the wicket and

bolted the door. Then he returned to his two compan-

ions, and said in a low tone:
“Boys, I’m afraid we are going to have trouble.”
“Why. so, Cody?” asked. Chris. .
“There is an Indian at this moment squeezed up
against the door listening, and I know there must be
more on the mound. It’s the first time this has hap-
pened since I’ve used the Deadfall. But keep cool.
Don’t let on. Get your rifles ready, and we'll settle
accounts with the red devils!”
_The three men proctircd their rifles and saw that they
were ready for instant use. Then Buffalo Bill opened
the wicket again and looked out.

He fairly recoiled before what he saw. Fully a score |
of painted and plumed warriors were standing in front

of the cabin door. But this was not what startled him
most. ee
In the midst of the ring of savages he saw a form
which he would have sworn was that of his beloved
friend and companion, Paul Boniface. But his back was
turned toward the cabin, and the scout could not see his
face; so he speedily drove from his mind the thought of
its being his friend Paul. ee

In a few minutes, however, the suspected form turned
round, facing the cabin. soe Poe ee

Buffalo Bill breathed more easily... He saw that the
face was that of a painted Indian. But the clothes he
wore were the same as those in which he had last seen
his friend Boniface dressed. Of this he was absolutely
certain, ae

The discovery was like an arrow in his heart. His
dear friend, he was now certain, had ‘been slain, and
the man who had killed him had stripped him of his

garments and put them dn himself.
Not only was the evidence of Boniface’s death thus
confirmed, but by the numerous objects dangling at
the Savage's girdles, which he knew to be human scalps,
the border king could read the fate of the rest of his com-

‘ panions who had been in the other two canoes.

“Poor Paul’s wiped out, boys,” whispered the scout
to his friends. “These Indians are the very ones that
did it, for one of them has got his clothes on and his
scalp at his girdle. I saw lots of other scalps, too, that
told plainer than words the fate of all our friends, These

 

 

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THE BURFALO

Indians have followed us clear from the river and have
crossed the moat. Boys, I tell you we are going to
have c

He did not finish the sentence, for at that instant a
wild, fiendish yell outside and a terrible crash against
the stout oaken door told that the attack had already
begun. :

“The work’s begun!” cried Buffalo Bill. “We must
keep them out if we want to save our scalps. Great
Heaven!” ;

This exclamation was caused by the scout’s hearing
in the adjoining room a dull, heavy thump—thump—
thump which sounded like bodies falling on the floor.

The three friends looked at one another in amazement,
wondering what was the matter—but only for an in-
stant.

The skin wall, or curtain, was suddenly pushed aside,
and three forms sprang out from the shadows of the
adjoining room. —

The light of the fire showed the white men that they
were confronted by three Arapahoes, who had been

 

concealed in the loft and had jumped down when they

heard their comrades outside. .

To Buffalo Bill’s amazement, he saw that one of the
braves was the herculean giant, Towering Oak, the war-
chief of the Arapahoes, who was his special and in-
veterate enemy.

(atime

GHAPTER Vi
MOMENTS OF TORTURE.

The situation of Buffalo Bill and his two friends was
indeed critical.
were their equals in every respect in a hand-to-hand en-
counter, so far as physical strength and weapons were
concerned, to say nothing of the score of others who
were standing at the door, which must soon yield to
their powerful blows.

Towering Oak was a savage in the very prime of
manhood. In height he was nearly seven feet, with
a frame proportionately built. His arms, breast, and
face were painted with pigments of various colors; so
crossed and blended that he looked little less than a
hideous demon,

All the savages were armed with their most formid-
able weapon—the tomahawk; while the whites had no
means of defense at hand save their rifles, which were

| not handy to use at close quarters.

The enemies glared at one another for an instant.
Then the redskins uttered a fearful war-whoop and
leaped toward the whites,

The latter had scarcely recovered from their surprise
yet, and but ‘for a single incident they would have gone
down at the first blow.

It happened in this way: Towering Oak stood a few
feet in advance of his friends, and with uplifted toma-
hawk he leaped toward Buffalo Bill, yelling fiercely.

Owing to his giant height and the lowness of the
ceiling abdve, his tomahawk came in contact with a
joist and was snatched from his hand by the very force
of the blow.

Nor did his mishap end here. The sudden arrest of
the circling weapon and the terrible momentum with
which it was swept forward hurled the giant quickly
backward to the floor.

Buffalo Bill instantly saw his advantage, and, dropping

The three savages who confronted them.

BILE STORIES: II
ie rifle, he sprang upon the savage and grappled with
aim, (

Another moment and the two muscular antagonists
were locked in one another’s deadly embrace, struggling
for each other’s life with the desperation of enraged
wild beasts.

Each of the other two savages selected his man with
the same deadly intent as had their huge leader.

Captain Chris and Harry saw their peril, but to avert
it seemed impossible. Yet, notwithstanding their terrible
surprise, their courage did not desert them. .

To prevent the nearer approach of his savage foe,
Captain Chris thrust the muzzle of his rifle forward
and struck the redskin in the face with such force that
the piece was discharged and the face of the redskin
blown to pieces,

The uplifted tomahawk fell to the floor, and the quiv-
ering, convulsive body fell forward upon it.

Harry had met his foe in a different manner. He
was possessed of great strength and remarkable activity,
and the instant he saw the danger that menaced him he
leaned slightly forward.

Then, quick as a flash, he darted head foremost with
all the fury of a young bull at the feet of the savage.

As there was nothing to arrest the downward sweep
of the redskin’s weapon, the impetus with which he
aimed the blow threw him slightly forward off his
balance. oe

At the same instant Hary’s head shot between the —
legs of the tottering red man, who was thereby thrown
heavily to the floor upon his face.

Harry whirled| swiftly around, and, seizing the man
by his feet, prevented him from rising. .

- At this moment Captain Chris came to his friend’s
assistance, and with a blow on the head with the butt
of his rifle knocked the redskin lifeless.

The young men now turned their attention to Buffalo
Bill, who was struggling with the giant, Towering Oak.

They were down, locked in each other’s arms in a
vain, yet desperate, effort to crush the life from each
other’s body.

Like two enraged tigers, they rolled over and over,
causing the cabin to tremble beneath their violent blows
and kicks. oo

Chris and Harry started with surprise when they saw
that the combatants were struggling at the very edge of
the cellar trap-door, which, it will be remembered, Buf-
falo Bill did not have time to close after his return with
the food for supper.

The antagonists were in great danger of rolling into
the cellar, and the first thing Harry did toward assisting
the scout was to try to close the trap-door. But before
he could reach it the giant made a side lunge and rolled
threugh the opening into the cellar with a dull, thunder-
ous crash, dragging Buffalo Bill down with him.

The two young men bent low and gazed down into
the cellar, but they saw nothing. It was pitchy dark
down there. They could hear the two giants still strug-
gling.. Their fall seemed to have made them more des-
perate, for the blows and groans grew heavier each
moment.

“Harry,” said Watterson.
much for Cody.”

“Tm going to jump down and see what I can do,”
replied Harry.

He plucked a blazing brand from the fire on

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hearth with which to light the gloomy vault, and, taking
jap a tomahawk which had belonged to one of the dead
men, he started for the cellar trap.

But at.this instant there came a fearful crash against
the cabin door from the savage assailants outside.

The ponderous door creaked on its stout wooden
hinges, and its bolts and bars fairly groaned under the
blow. Another such blow, and the door must yield.

“Here, Harry, for Heaven’s sake!” cried the captain,
placing his shoulder against the door. “We must keep
these demons out! All will be lost if we don’t! I can’t
hold it alone—you must help! Pray Heaven Buffalo
Bill gets the better of that fellow! But we dare not
leave the door to help him.”

Harry rushed to his friend’s assistance. They pressed
their shoulders against the door and gathered all their
strength in a furious effort to keep it closed. But an-
other blow of the enemy convinced them that it must
soon yield, despite their vigorous efforts.

“They are bound to force the door, Harry,’ said
the captain. “If we only had a brace to put against it,
we might hold it—at least, until Buffalo Bill_—”’

“The trap-door!” interrupted Harry. “That will do.
It is not fast upon hinges.”

“Thank Heaven!” cried Watterson, as he sprang to-
ward the cellar door, and, lifting it, placed it against
the cabin door in a sloping direction. |

This formed an excellent brace, the upper edge of
which was placed under a heavy bar of wood that was
firmly bolted horizontally across the upper end of the
door, while the other end rested in a crevice in the floor.

Against this brace the young men how threw their
weight. Again the savages hurled themselves against

the door, which fairly groaned under tlie pressure- iy".
the young men held it firm, :

The situation was indeed precarious, and the fast-
gathering shadows in the cabin lent an additional gloom
to the scene.

The lamp had become extinguished during the con-
flict, and only a heap of red coals now glowed upon the
stone hearth with a dull light. -

The Arapahoes kept up a continual firing against the
door, but without affect; for it was made of close-pointed
and heavy oak slabs that were well-seasoned and so
tough that the bullets cetild not pierce them.

After repeated efforts to force the door, the assailants
became quiet; yet the young men were aware of a heavy
external pressure against the door which required their
unceasing efforts to counterbalance.

Neither of them dared leave in order to assist Buffalo
Bill. . All depended upon keeping the door fastened.

They now had a moment of silence in which to listen

to the struggle in the cellar, which was still going on

furiously. They held their breath in suspense, until
at last the blows and cries ceased. ;
All became silent as the grave within the cellar.
The struggle had ended! | :
But which of the combatants had won the victory? _
_ The savages outside were silent, also evidently listen-
ing for the result of the conflict. But the young men
could still feel the strong, steady pressure on the door,
and they could not leave their post.
They bent their heads and listened. They could hear
nothing from either of the men in the cellar. They
looked at one another sadly, with inquiry in their glances.
Watterson was the first to speak.

THE BUPPAEO BILL STORIES.

“Harry,’ he said, “I’m afraid Buffalo Bill is dead.
Both of them are probably dead—they have killed each
other.” eo

“Tt must be so, Chris. If it is, the jig’s up with us.
We can never escape from these Indians without
Cody’s——— Bear down, Chris! Bear down, for
Heaven’s sake!” |
_ At this moment there came a terrible crash against
the door, which would have burst it open but for the
prompt resistance of the two young men,

Again the Indians subsided into silence, evidently pre-
paring for another attack.

Again the young men listened. They started.

“Great Heaven!” gasped Harry. “Did you hear that,
Chris?” é

“Yes—in the cellar! It sounds like the crumbling of
dirt. “What can it mean?’

“That one of the fighters lives!
Buffalo Bill! I will call and see.”

He called the scout’s name repeatedly, but there was
no response.

“It’s our last call, old fellow!
or he would have answered. :
lives. Chris, our time to kick the bucket has come!”.

Again and again the Arapahoes hurled themselves
against the door, but their efforts to force it open were
defeated. The silence, that now followed gave the whites
an opportunity to listen to the strange sound below.

They could still hear that noise, which resembled, the
falling’ of crumbling earth to the ground. -

Half-an-hour passed by. Still that strange sound con-

Heaven grant it is

Buffalo Bill is dead,

tinued, and still the young men dared not leave the ©

door. The savages yelled again and again, and. kept
nurling themselves against the door,

There was another period of silence, during which a
new sound was heard in the cellar. It was as if a heavy
body was being dragged across the earthen floor toward
the cellar stairs.

“Harry !’ exclaimed Chris, in a tone that was some-
what agitated. “The crisis has come! That sound is
made by Towering Oak crawling toward the opening.
A few moments more and he will be upon us!”

The young men would not have feared the giant sav-
age had they been at liberty to confront him, but they
knew that if they left their post, even for a moment, the
door would be borne down and the savages outside would
be upon them instantly.

Suddenly a shadow appeared in the dark opening. The
young men, gazing spellbound, saw the tufted head, the
low, broad forehead, the painted visage, and grim, lacer-
ated face of Towering Oak slowly appear above the
floor. :

eeme casters

CHAPTER VI.
THE ESCAPE FROM THE CABIN,

As the two young men looked upon the grim face
of the savage they noticed that he wore an expression
of agony, and that his small black eyes were glassy
and staring, while his arms hung limp at his side.

Only a second glance was necessary to show them that
A a powerless to harm them—that, in fact, he was

ead.

This discovery was in an instant verified by the savage
falling limp and lifeless to one side on the floor, and
the sudden appearance of Buffalo Bill behind him, The

It is Towering Oak who_

 

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THE BUREALO

face of the border king, though fearfully lacerated, was
convulsed with silent laughter.

“Thank Heaven!” cried the young men, in a breath.

They had no sooner recovered from their confusion of
mind than they discovered they had been made the vic-
tims of a grim practical joke.

As a matter of fact, Buffalo Bill had felt rather hurt
that they had not come to his assistance in the fight, not
fully understanding the urgent necessity which they were
under to hold the door. He had, therefore, pushed the
body of Towering Oak ahead of him up the stairs.

Chris and Harry were not in-the mood to reproach
Buffalo Bill for the fright he had given them. They
were only too glad to see him alive again. ~

The scout bore many marks of his terrible conflict,
but none of them was serious. They were only such as
were inflicted by the giant’s fingers and teeth. His
shoulders were stripped of their clothing , and his great
muscular arms and massive chest were bare and covered
with wounds, bruises, and blood.

The king of the scouts smiled at the surprise and hor-
ror which was so plainly manifested on the faces of his
friends.

“That was the hottest fight I ever had,” he said. “I
thought I was going under, sure. But I managed to get
a strangle hold on the fellow, and then I gave him a blow
behind the eargwhich settled the account between us.’

In his excitement, Buffalo Bill spoke loudly. The
Arapahoes outside, who had evidently been listening to
his words, and who had been ignorant of the fate of their
friends up to this time, now uttered a fearful vell and
hurled themselves against the door with terrific force.
But Buffalo Bill put his shoulder to it and helped Chris is
and Harry, with the result that it held fast.

After their failure, the redskins retired a short dis-
tance from the cabin to consult with one another as to
their next move.

Buffalo Bill, still triumphing in the, memory of bis
victory over Towering Oak, took advantage of this move-
ment to open the wicket and look out.

He saw the redskins grouped about the same tall form
which at first he had taken to be that of Paul Boniface,
and who was evidently the leader of the party.

He then applied his ear to the opening and listened.
He heard voices speak in English quite fluently, but they
were entirely strange. He listened closely to try to catch
the drift of the conversation.

“Ves” he heard one of them say in the Arapahoe
tongue, with which he was thoroughly conversant, “I
heard the great Long Hair say that he had slain Tower-
ing Oak, the King of Strength.”

“Then they are all three dead,”

“Yes,” rejoined the first speaker.

“Then it all rests with us,” said a stern, commanding
voice in English. “We must “have that fellow, if we have
to burn them out. Try the door again!”

The king of the scouts had scarcely time to close the
wicket before the assailants carne thundering against the

said another.

_ door, but with their previous bad luck.

Again they retired to consult, While they were doing
so, Buffalo Bill told his companions what he had over-
heard.

 

 

BILL STORIES. 13

‘Then their object seems to be to capture one of us
in particular,” said Watterson. ‘‘But which one can it
en

“T reckon it’s me,” replied Buffalo Bill. “I have done
a good deal of damage to their tribe at various times.
But they will have to catch us before they scalp us.”

“That’s true,” said Harry; “but we’re so nearly caught
now that I can almost feel a redskin’s fingers in my
hair.”

During the next half-hour there were some stirring
events.

The savages made repeated efforts to force an. en-
trance, but, failing iw this, they finally began to run
around and around the cabin, yelling and howling, and
beating upon its walls with their clubs and tomahawks
so violently that it seemed as if they would batter the
building down.

The reason of this crazy dance was that Buffalo. Bill
had managed to shoot four of their number who lurked
in too close proximity to the wicket, which he had turned
into a loophole.

The dance round the cabin lasted for some time, dur-
ing which the border king expressed to his friends a fear
that this confusion might be made to cover up some cun-
ning work that was being done to dislodge them from
their stronghold.

In this he was partly right, for no soone~ did the yelling
cease than a lump of chinking fell from the wall of the
cabin, and through the hole thus made between two logs
the muzzle of a gun was thrust, with a white rag tied
10 it,

“Fle-lo, in thar, in cabin! called a voice outside—a
voice which was unmistakably that of a redskin trying
to speak English.

Buffalo Bill saw that the white rag was meant as a
flag of truce, but he well knew that it was not the cus-
tom of the Arapahoe Indians to use such things. He
knew that some white renegade must be at the bottom —
of it all, and that it was only intended as a bait to lure
them from the cabin.

Nevertheless, he resolved to confer with them, and as-
certain their motives and desires, so that he might be
the better able to guard against them.

“Well, what in thunder do you want?” he replied.

“Make peace with great Long Hair,” said the mouth-
piece of the Indians.

“Go to thunder! I have no peace to make. Get away
from this place and then you will have all the peace you

want.”

“But we want one white man,” returned the Indian.
“Oh,.indeed! Which one of this little pation of three

would you prefer?”

Give Injins him—no harm other

responded the Indian.

“One call captain.
two—make peace then,’

Captain Watterson shuddered when this request fell

I RA TO
ae

 

 
 

Ne etek scott

14 , THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES.

upon his ear. Why should the enemy desire him more
particularly than the border king, who had been such
a deadly foe to them? There was some mystery about
it all.

“Suppose you don’t get the captain, what then?’’ called
Cody.

“We will burn cabin and all in it,” returned the savage.

The king of the scouts laughed derisively at this, but
he gazed reflectively toward the white rag, and an idea
struck him. A smile came ge his face, and he shouted
back:

“Well, old hoss, the captain’s a splendid fellow and I
hate awfully to give him up, but then, one life isn’t
worth as much as three. If you’ll just rest easy for a
minute or two, we'll talk about handing the captain out
to you.”

oe !” ejaculated the oe
minute.’

The scout turned to his companions, and said in a low
tone:

“Boys, when I was down in the cellar I heard you
speak about hearing a noise like the falling of crumbling
dirt, didn’t 1?”

“Yes,” responded the young men together eagerly.

“Well I made it in digging a hole out under the edge
of the cabin with.an old meat-knife I always keep down
there {0 slice meat with. I knew that if we had to leave
the cabin, that was our only chance to get away unseen,
and even that will be risky. |

“But the savages are in earnest. They certainly want
the captain—but for what purpose | can’t tell. Unless
they get him, they'll burn the place and we can’t hinder
them.

“We've got to get out of this pretty quick. The hole
under the cabin will let us out, and then we’ve gt to
strike for tall timber—cross the moat where we came
in. Maybe we can get out of their reach before they
discover we’ve gone. What do you say, boys?”

“Lead the way, and we will follow,” said Harry.

At this moment the Indian called out:

“Minute gone up—what do?”

“Be patient,” replied Buffalo Bill.
bid the captain good-by.”’ '

“Ugh! No like be patient!” grunted the Indian. Then
he became silent.

By this time the fire on the hearth had died out, so
that it was entirely dark within the cabin. Knowing that
it was impossible for the Arapahoes to see their’ move-
ments, the three whites took up their rifles and silently
descended into the cellar.

A current of cold air, as well as a glimmer of twilight,
indicated the place where the opening had been made.”

“Now, lads,” said Buffalo Bill, in a whisper, 7 take
the lead and you follow as silently as you can.’

In a few moments the three men found themselves on

“We wait little

“Give us time to

i SL ARON TN GA AYR ERS Ti A i alr RSet a a cali

- a small moonlit glade,

the outside of the cabin, on the side opposite the one
where the Indians were standing.

“Come now!” whispered the scout.

The three glided across the moonlit opening and en-
tered the moat. Buffalo Bill led the way, and Watterson
came last.

Just as the latter disappeared among the reeds, a dozen
rifles cracked behind him, and a shower of bullets went
rattling among the dry stems.

At the same instant, a sharp, stinging pain shot through
the captain’s arm, and almost paralyzed his body.

He had been wounded, but he said nothing and followed
swiftly after his friends.

The Indians did not attempt to follow their trail, and.
Buffalo Bill saw at once that they had not crossed the

moat by that way. They had discovered some other
way, and he was puzzled by the fact.

The three men crossed the moat in safety, and cena
on for some distance in the forest before they came to a
halt. When they at last did so, Watterson sank down by
a tree, exclaiming:

“Boys, I’m wounded and bleeding to death!”

In a moment his companions were down by his side.

There was light sufficient for them to seé that his face
was deathly pale, and that the sleeve of his right arm
was saturated with blood. Buffalo Bill at once ripped
open his sleeve and examined the wound, which he saw
at a glance was of a serious nature.

The border king’ was no novice in backwoods surgery,
and he was able to stanch the flow of blood and bandage
the wound with such strips as he could tear from his
clothes.

Watterson was very weak and suffered extreme pain

for awhile, but presently he declared that he was ready

to continue the retreat. On rising to his feet, however,
he felt that he was unable to walk far, and he told his
companions so.

However, they moved on a few paces, and soon entered
Captain Watterson staggered and
again sank to the earth, overcome through loss of blood.

“I can go no farther, boys,” he said faintly.

“Tt'is too bad!” exclaimed Buffalo Bill.
get out of this glade. There is too much light here.
Redskin eyes will surely see us.”

The scout and Harry carried the wounded man across
the glade and placed him at the foot of a giant redwood-
tree, where the shadows fell thick. and black.

“I reckon you can rest here for a little while,” said

the border king.

“Yes. Give me an hour’s rest and I can travel again,”
replied the wounded man,

“That's it; we can’t go fast, anyhow. We've got to feel
our way carefully, for the wood must be full of Indians.
I've seen signs of them since we crossed the moat, and it
won't be long before the others will be over, raving

“But we must.

 

 

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through the woods like hounds.
f Harry and I will reconnoiter.

. him a feeling akin to despair.

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THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES.

While you are resting
You'll be in no danger
here, I think.”

“Not at all.
Watterson,

And so Harry and the scout at once moved: away into
the forest in opposite directions, to reconnoiter their situa-
tion before proceeding farther on their journey.

When Captain Watterson found himself alone, he felt
the helplessness of his situation most keenly. He was
naturally a brave man, but his weakness and pain gave
His mind became preoccu-
pied with sad misgivings and wild thoughts, which clung
to him like some horrible nightmare.

Under these depressing influences he began to grow
impatient and. restless. He wanted to be moving, and
chafed at the prolonged absence of.the two scouts.

_ Presently he rose to his feet to assure himself that
he was able to walk. At this moment his ear caught the
sound of footsteps, and at the same moment he saw two
shadowy forms moving toward him.

“Is it you, Cody and Harry?” he asked, it fie so
dark that he could not distinguish form nor feature.

“’Sh—yes!” responded one of them, in an excited
whisper. “Follow us, and. for Heaven’s sake, don’t
breathe if you can help it—the Indians are after us.
Come !””

Without a word Captain Wee followed ae
away through the forest quite rapidly, the startling news
of his companions acting as a stimulant upon his feeble
strength,

A. mile or more had been traversed when the three
emerged from the woods into an open space, where the
moon’s rays fell bright upon the earth. .

Chris Watterson started when he turned to his two
companions. He had not been Buffalo Bill
and Harry, as he had supposed!

Before him stood a savage and a white man, whom he
instantly recognized, and whose presence there with the
savage sent a horrible suspicion to his mind.

Before he could speak, the white man dealt him a blow
that sent him to the earth. Partly raising himself, the
wounded man drew a pistol and fired upon his betrayers.
The savage fell dead, but at the same instant the white
man dealt the captain another blow that. sent him uncon-
scious to the earth.

Do: just as you think best, oy, said

RDN

"CHAPTER Vi”

THE MYSTERY OF WATTERSON’S FATE,
Da shadowy forms, moving through the forest from
opposite directions, met in the center of a little moonlit
glade. Neither started at sight of the other, for they
were there to meet.

ahs were Buffalo Bill and Harry Pomroy.

A Ra aaa ae tetcaminconooanaale Sea cd ioe naataret anes eee RAS OEE eee

captain away from here as soon as possible.

“Well, Cody, what did you discover?’ asked Harry.

“Indians—Indians to the right and left, before and be-
hind us, swarming as thick as bees. We must get the
But, didn’t
you hear the report of a gun a minute ago, north of
here?”

“Yes,” replied Harry, “can you account for it?”

‘No; it was a good way off, or cs only a small fire-
atm.”

“At first I was sure it was the report of Watterson’s
pistol, but then we didn’t leave him in that direction.”
“Well, let’s hurry to the captain and get him away,

anyhow.” :

They moved briskly away, and in a few minutes. came
to the spot where they had left Watterson, but found
that he was gone.

They searched for him in the immediate vicinity, but
found no trace of him.

Here was a strange mystery.

“Surely the Indians haven’t got him!” said Buffalo
Bill.

“What else could have taken him away?” asked Harry.

“His fretfulness and impatience, I suppose. Let’s wait
here awhile, and perhaps he’ll come around.” |

So they seated themselves and waited—waited an hour,
but he did not come. 3

Their suspicions were now aroused. They believed the
captain had been foully dealt with, and at once began
searching for some clue to his fate. But the deep gloom
baffled their efforts—they found nothing. The night was
by this time nearly spent. The moon was going down,
and that darkness which precedes the. dawn was coming
on. So the two friends decided to wait for daylight to,
continue their search for the missing man.

Before it was barely light enough to see, they were on
foot. The practised eyes of the border king soon de-
tected signs of enemies having been about. Further
search resulted in the discovery of a suspicious-looking
trail, though they found no marks that would indicate
that a struggle had ensued, |

“Tt’s very curious,’ said Buffalo Bill. ‘The captain
has gone off quietly, and if I mistake not, there are In-
dian tracks about. We might as well follow this trail
and see where it leads.”

“Take the lead, Cody,” said Harry.
better than I can a trail.”

Buffalo Bill smiled, and glanced at the priming of his
rifle. Then he bent his head slightly forward, and set
off upon the trail.

Harry followed behind, keeping a sharp lookout around
him. i :

They moved rapidly, for the trail was plain and easily
followed. It did not take them long to reach the opening
in-which the captain had been stricken down. Here they —
found blood upon the grass.

“T can follow you,

 

 
16 THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES.

“He’s dead, Harry; he’s dead!” exclaimed Buffalo Bill,
pointing to the blood. “He’s been lured here and slain.”
“But where is the body ?” asked Harry, with a tremor

of grief in his voice.

“Ah! that tells where it is!” the scout exclaimed, point-
ing to a carrion-crow that was seated upon the topmost
limb of a tree and looking down into a little thicket of
undergrowth, about two hundred paces to the right of
them. Harry gazed toward the thicket with a shudder.

“Let’s go and examine it,” said the border king.

They moved slowly toward the thicket, filled with ter-
rible suspicions.

As they neared its outskirts, a number of buzzards
started up from its depths with a frightened scream, and,
flapping their wings, soared aloft as though they were
reluctant to leave their banquet.

A gaunt wolf also stole away.

Slowly Buffalo Bill pushed his way into the thicket
with feelings that can better be imagined than described.

Suddenly he paused and drew back with an involuntary
cry of horror.

elhere itis? he’ said, Seas to an object before
him.

They stood for a moment, and then advanced closer.

They found it'was the skeleton of a man. It had been
stripped of every bit of clothing, and every particle of
flesh had been gnawed from the bones.. Not a semblancé
of Chris Watterson was there, but Harry found a bit of

cloth, which he recognized as a shred ‘of his friend's

clothing, and then all doubts were removed from: his
mind.

Buffalo Bill, however, did not altogether coincide with
Harry’s belief. He examined the frame and skull, made
mental comparison of it with the size of Captain Wat-
terson, as nearly as he could remember, and then said:

“T can’t believe that this is the captain’s skeleton.”

9?

“And why not?” asked Harry.

“The shape of the skull is just like that of an In-
dian’s. I’ve studied anatomy a little, and think I can tell
a white man’s skull from a red man’s.” :

“But in this case you might be mistaken. These shreds
of clothing seem to point to the truth.”

33

“T may be,” replied the king of the scouts.

Thinking that the other end of the trail might give

some further clue, Harry followed it a short distance -

into the thicket, where it terminated in a place that bore
evidence of a desperate struggle having ensued. The
shrubbery was bent down and sprinkled with blood. The
ground was marked in different places, the grass and
weeds trodden down and torn up by the roots,

At one side Harry discovered a flat, smooth limestone
rock, which seemed to have been placed there recently. .
It excited his curiosity, and going to it he picked it up.

He started back, with a low exclamation of surprise.

LS oe eee nk ee

¢
Upon the surface of the stone he saw written—ey

dently with a sharp-pointed instrument—the words:

“Am dying. Oh, heavens! the wolves!
“Curis WATTER

 

And here the last word broke abruptly off, but it wz
sufficient to convince Harry that his friend was dead.

He returned to Buffalo Bill, and informed him of h;

discovery, adding: ~° o
“So that settles the fate of poor Chris!’
“Tt, does in one sense of the word, but I can neve
believe that skeleton’s the captain’s, though it may be,”
plied Buffalo Bill. “But time is precious, and, ee Cc

ie belief that these. are our friend’s bones, we’ll bur,

them as quickly as we can, and be off.”

And so they did. It required but a few minutes to dj
a grave for the skeleton with their knives. They place
the bones within it and covered it from the view of tt
world for ever.

This sad task completed, they took their departur.
from the spot, going slowly and sadly through the fore:

in the direction of Pleasant Prairie.

 

CHAPTER. Vili
EXCITING TIMES AT PLEASANT PRAIRIE,

After the return of Buffalo Bill and Pomroy to Plea
ant Praifie, a fortnight passed which was full of exc’
clan events,

the massacre of the hunting party and the mysterious fa’:
of Watterson was matched at the settlement itself b

another mystery.
The belle of the village, Bertha Osmond, had sudden’

; j \
disappeared, the day before the massacre, and had nv
since been seen.

It happened that she was engaged to be married |

Captain Watterson, and Buffalo Bill pondered deeply «:
to whether her disappearance had anything to do wit”
the startling chain of events which had ended in Wa-
terson’s sudden vanishing and the finding of the skeleto:.
There was nothing to show how it was that the girl had
disappeared, but the common opinion in the village wi
that she had been carried away either by the redskins ce

by the band of outlaws whom the king ol the scouts a
posed to live in the Haunted Gorge.

Buffalo Bill himself was convinced that there was sor
association between these two enemies of the settlers. H
had had proof enough himself, at the time of the attad

on his cabin in the Deadfall, that one or more white me »

—trascally renegades—were in league with the Indian

He suggested to several of the settlers that the be:

thing to do was to try to find the so-called Hidden Ranc
of the outlaws, and for several days they pressed the’

search in every direction for it; but all their efforts prove:
' fruitless,

Buffalo Bill hoped that if he could only find this nes

 

The sad news which: they had brought ¢'

 

 

 

 

i
€
THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES. -

f outlaws, he would discover the missing girl and pos-
ibly Watterson himself, as well as strike at the heart
fof the long guerrilla warfare which the aus had
onducted against the settlers.

Inspired by Buffalo Bill’s on some of the less
‘uperstitious of the frontiersmen resolved to make some
urther investigations at the Devil’s Gorge, as they
‘ould scarcely convince themselves otherwise than that
he outlaws had something t6 do with the strange things
seen there.

When they arrived at the gorge, they reconnoitered it

irom the mouth of the little stream which wound its
way through it, up to a point where it terminated in a
| seautifgl cataract known as Crystal Falls.

They found many signs which showed that Indians had
been prowling around, but nothing to convince them
thac the outlaws’ den was in the neighborhood.

However, upon examining the bed of the stream, they
found upon several soft, water-soaked, limestone rocks
‘he actual imprint of a horse’s hoofs, and now and then
he imprint of a cloven hoof,

This was decidedly strange and mysterious. But, one
thing was sure about it—it was plain evidence that the
Demon Rider and the White Horseman were no mere
yptical delusions.

_ But who were they? Whence did ey come? .Where
lid they go?

' Buffalo Bill and his companions carefully explored the
gorge, but they were not able to answer these qiiestions.

At night they concealed themselves in the valley to
watch. Their patient vigilance was rewarded by a fleet-
ing sight of both the Demon Rider and the White Horse-
man. But both flitted past them so quickly that it was
impossible to stop them, or even to see where they went.

Buffalo Bill would have remained at the place for sev-
eral days and nights until he solved the mystery, but

‘he was recalled to more pressing affairs by the startling

news, brought hastily by a messenger, that Paducah, the
aged paramount chief of the Arapahoes, was marching
upon the place with three hundred warriors.

The settlers hurried back to defend their homes and
families, and they were none too soon. The defensive
force was placed under Buffalo Bill’s command, and he
at once threw out vedettes and sentries in every direction,
when the night approached.

 

 

| The attack was not long delayed. About midnight the
Lisle came. The pickets were all driven in, and the vil-
age assaulted by the Indians. But they found the set-
ers ready to receive them, and, after a hard battle, they
were forced to retreat with the loss of many warriors.

But this defeat only served to stimulate their savage
hirst for bloed, and they again rallied to the contest,
which was sharper and more sanguinary than the one
which had preceded it.

The Arapahoes were again forced to yield before the

 

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oe gk sa Ne dion ae apices in SUL au Si ae oe aa egy ter ae ab eas
aa Rae pia tg Sede earls

   

 

a7,

deadly fire of the whites, who were directed with con-
summate generalship by Buffalo Bill.

In this attack, the settlers only suffered a loss of two
men killed and two wounded; but, although their ranks
were only thus slightly diminished, those of the enemy
were increased by reenforcements, and they were more
powerful than ever, although the loss they had sustained
had been fearful.

No sleep came to any of the people in Pleasant Prairie
that night. A terrible suspense rested upon every heart.
The redskins made several attempts to capture the vil-
lage, but, failing, they withdrew to the crest of a prairie
ridge beyond range of the settlers’ rifles. In this posi-
tion, they would be able at daylight to watch every move-
ment of the whites.

The day wore away without any hostile demonstration
on the part of the Arapahoes. But, they still maintained —
their position upon the hill at dark, and there seemed to
be not a doubt that they intended to make a night at-

“tack. For this the settlers were ready.

About ten o’clock that evening, a chorus of loud yells ©
broke upon the ears of the watching frontiersmen. With
their rifles in hand, they listened intently, supposing that
they were to be attacked at once. But it was strange that
the Indians should make so much noise when they were
advancing to an onslaught that should be a surprise.

After listening for a few moments, Buffalo Bill shouted
excitedly:

“They have been attacked themselves! Listen! They
aré fighting for their lives! Heaven only knows who
their enemy is, but he must be our friend. Follow me,
boys, and we'll see what we can do,to help him!”

Inspired by the words of the border king, the fron-
tiersmen rushed forward and were soon in touch with
the Arapahoes. The latter were in a bad case.

They had been attacked by a strong body of their
hereditary foes, the Tulari Indians. Taken by surprise, \
they had lost: many of their number before they could
organize and make an effective resistance.

When the white men also attacked them, shooting
down many of their best braves as soon as they got in

‘range, they broke and fled in sheer panic.

The Tularis pursued them hotly, killing and scalping
the laggards; but, favored by the darkness of the night,

a considerable portion of the Arapahoe force made good

their escape.

After We confusion of the fight was over, and the pur-
suers *Were returning from the chase, Buffalo Bill came
face tojface with the war-chief who ied the Tularis.

He recognized in him an Indian whom he had known
well during several hunting trips which he made in the
Tulari country. He was a famous warrior named Strong
Heart, the greatest brave among all his people.

Buffalo Bill and he clasped hands warmly, and con-
gratulated one another upon the success of the fight.

 

 

 
  

 

— ay
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ae ten chery peta ty om eg SRI aEy garareae ial eR ony Sarah 5

\

Le PERE

Strong Heart explained that he. had heard through
some of his scouts of the attack made by Paducah upon
the settlement, and he realized that it was a splendid op-
portunity for him to pay off old scores against the
Arapahoes.

His own tribe was friendly toward the whites, and he
saw the chance to kill two birds with one stone—to prove
that friendship, and to punish his ancient foes. He had
succeeded beyond his best expectations, and he and his
warriors, with many scalps hanging at their girdles, were
entertained at the village all that night.

When morning came, a conference was held, and it
was agreed that the Tularis should stay with the settlers
for some days at least, as it was quite possible that
Paducah would rally his forces, secure reenforcements,

and return to the attack.

Day after day passed, and nothing was seen of the
Arapahoes.
When four days had gone by Buffalo Bill left the

village early in the morning and took his way to the

Devil’s Gorge. He meant to give it a more thorough
investigation even than he had yet done; and he per-
suaded the Tulari chief, Strong Heart, to go with him.

He knew that Strong Heart was probably the most
expert tracker among all the redskin tribes in California,
and he thought it possible that signs which might have
escaped his own eye would be discovered by the lynxlike
glance of the Tulari chief.

It was noon when they reached the gorge. As before,
they found the imprint of the horse’s hoof and that of
the cloven hoof, but nothing more.

They followed the course of the stream to where their
progress was stopped by the Crystal Falls, a beautiful
sheet of water some fifteen feet wide, falling over a rock
about twenty feet high. But they could find no trace
showing where the hoofed feet had. turned from the
stream.

After some further fruitless searching, the border king
and the Indian chief decided they would conceal. them-
selves in the gorge and await the coming of night, in the
hope of getting a view of the Demon Rider and the White
Horseman, neither of whom had ever been seen by day-
light,

Buffalo Bill had told Strong Heart about them, and
naturally he was deeply interested. Unlike mest Indians,
he was not superstitious, and he fully agreed with Buffalo
Bill that these strange sights must be entirely natural in
their origin.

The shadows of night had scarcely fallen over the dis-
mal gorge before the ears of the two mtm-were greeted
by the dull noise of hoofs and the plashing of water.

The sound came from up the stream, and, elancing in
that direction, they beheld the White Horseman Be
“ down through the water at a rapid pace.

Where had he come from? The Crystal Ne were

ARNON se
Ha gy

BUPF ALO: BILL

schand:

STORIES.

just behind him, and there were towering bluffs on either
He seemed to have ridden straight out from the
solid rock.

Almost at the moment when they made this strange

_ discovery the two men heard another noise below them.

As their eyes mechanically turned in that direction they
saw the Demon Rider upon his horned beast, with his
lurid torch, coming in sight around a bend in the stream
below.

The two apparitions—for such they appeared to be—
passed each other, without either seeming to be aware
of the fact—at a point nearly opposite to the two
watchers.

The eyes of Buffalo Bill followed the dim outline of
the White Horseman as he raised his rifle to his shoul-
der; but before he could bring his piece to bear upon
the phantomlike creature he had disappeared around the
bend of the stream below. |

The scout then turned. quickly and glanced after the

Demon Rider, but that creature also had vanished sud
denly into the intensely black darlsness.

The border king and the Indian stood transfixed with
a feeling that was almost akin to terror. In spite of
their previous convictions, that which they had seen
seemed to be of supernatural origin. ;

Buffalo Bill threw off this feeling in a few moments
and turned to his companion,

“Strong Heart,” he said, “I want you to watch here
while I follow that white rider. If 3 see either of
them again, shoot quickly—and you will kill a bad
white man.”

The Indian nodded silently.
upon to do his duty.

Buffalo Bill went rapidly down the stream, in the
hope of catching up with the White Horseman, or meet-
ing him coming back. In either event, he meant to be
ready on the instant and try the virtue of a lead bullet
upon him. ‘ :

He could be depended

But his pursuit was in vain, and at last he gave it up
in disgust and began to retrace his footsteps.

The night was far advanced, and when he reached
the point where he had left Strong Heart the chiet
was gone. Why he had left, Buffalo Bill could not

tell; but the natural conclusion was that the ‘sights he .

had seen in the gorge had proved too much for his nerve,
and he had gone back to Pleasant Prairie, or concealed
himself somewhere.

Buffalo Bill shouted for him several times and searched

around, but there was no answer and no sign of the,

missing man.. So the scout at last shouldered his rifle
and set off through the woods toward the Deadfall.

He had not been there since the night of Captain Wat-
terson’s mysterious disappearance, and he had a great
desire to visit the cabin again and see how much eariag:
the Arapahoes had done to it.

 

 

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‘|tate long under any circumstances.
upon his hands and knees, he soon gained ne side of
the building.

An hour’s walk carried him to the edge of the swamp
surrounding the Deadfall.

In order not to be encumbered while crossing the moat,
he left his rifle, hatchet, and other accouterments in a
hollow log before he started to cross. When he reached
the mound on which the cabin stood he began at once to
make a close and careful reconnaissance of the place.

This precaution was a matter of habit with him, and
it served him in good stead in this instance. It showed
him that a strange light was shining through a crevice in
the wall of the cabin.

Some one was in the building! Who could he be?

Buffalo Bill paused, undecided how to act. This was
because of the want of defensive weapons, and he re-
garded the leaving of his rifle and hatchet on the other
side of the swamp as an unpardonable blunder.

However, it was not in the border king’s nature to hesi-
Crawling cautiously

He was resolved to see who were in the cabin and
why they were there.

The opening made by the Arapahoes on the night of
the fight for the presentation of the flag of truce offered
him a view of the interior. He crawled around to this
hole, raised himself upon his feet, and looked in.

A fire was burning on the hearth, and its light showed
the king of the scouts that there were two men inside.

They were Paducah, the old paramount chief of the
Arapahoes, and Paul Boniface, the comrade whom he
had supposed to be dead!

Buffalo Bill could hardly repress a cry of joy when
he saw his supposed dead friend alive. But why was

Suddenly, like a vivid flash of lightning, a dark suspi-
cion flashed across the mind of the king of the scouts.

Paul Boniface was a traitor!

This would account for his eccentric habits and his
mysterious absences at times which had never been ex-
plained. If such was indeed the case, the border king
could readily see that Boniface was the unknown foe
who had shot at Captain Watterson from the shore when

| the flatboat was descending the river; and that he was

also the traitor who was in a great measure Tene ciils
for the massacre at the Bars.

Furthermore, there could hardly be a doubt that it was.
he who had led Towering Oak and his accomplices to the
Deadfall, and whom he, Buffalo Bill, had seen among
the savages that night.

But what were the traitor and the > chief

‘talline about ?

Buffalo Bill applied his ear to the opening and listened.
Boniface was speaking.
“Yes, chief,” he heard him say in English, “you have

 

THE BUFFALO

he in a close conversation with the savage redskin chief?

 

BILL STORIES. . te

~

done your part well, and you shall get your pay. Most .

of the horses I promised you you have already got, and
now you shall have the money. You have got that man
whom I hate in your power, and my band has got the
girl.

“I am goitfg to make her my squaw, and then I will
have the man brought from your camp in the desert and
tortured to death before her eyes. I hate him because
she loves him; and this will show her that I am her
master, and mean to remain so.”

“Good! Right way to treat a squaw!” replied the
grim old Arapahoe chief.

Buffalo Bill saw Boniface hand the Indian some money.

He could not quite understand what the old chief was
receiving pay for, but he had heard enough to convince
him that his supposed friend was, without a doubt, a
traitor in league with the Indians and the outlaws.
It was equally clear that he had something to do
with the mysterious vanishing of Bertha Osmond from
Pleasant Prairie. She was undoubtedly the girl referred
to.

For a few moments there was no sound in the cabin
except the chinking of coin upon the table, but the silence
was finally broken by Boniface asking:

“How is Towering Oak, chief? Is he getting here?

“Fle most well,” replied Paducah. “His strength most
come back. He hunt for Long Hair now.”

Buffalo Bill gasped with surprise when he heard these
words.

After all, it appeared that ae giant of the Arapahoes,
his bitterest and deadliest foe, was alive! He must in
some way have survived the terrible struggle in the cellar
which Buffalo Bill had supposed had resulted in his death.

And Towering Oak was not only alive, but upon his
trail !

These startling facts had scarcely become settled in the
scout’s mind before he felt something heavy encircle his
body and pinion his arms to his side. He struggled des-
perately, but the grasp of the unknown enemy was so
powerful that he could not break it:

It was not often that Buffalo Bill was caught napping
or taken at a disadvantage; but it was so in this case.

He struggled desperately to turn round and face the
foe who so suddenly grappled with him, but all his efforts
were vain.
see who his powerful enemy was,

But he did not need to see or to know, for a trium-
phant, savage yell told him all. He was in the clutches

of his mortal foe, the giant Arapahoe, Towering Oak.

The yell of the savage brought several of his comrades
to his assistance almost immediately, and Buffalo Bill
struggled helplessly in their grasp. He was flung to the
ground, and in a few moments was so strongly bound

with rawhide thongs that he was unable to move hand or

foot.

cape any Sa SURE re os aN aT

He could not wrench his body around, nor.

 

 
 

SMS. Sav ST

eT Ta TE

FS net OTE

THE BUFFALO

CHAPTER IX.

BUFFALO BILL’S STRANGE ESCAPE.

The morning sun arose on a tragical scene at the Dead-
fall.

In the center of a group of savages, among whom
were old Paducah, the paramount chief of the Arapahoes,
and Towering Oak, stood the border king, His arms
were bound in front of him, as if to mock his helplessness.
His head and shoulders were bare.

Buffalo Bill had been doomed to a terrible fate—that
of torture by the scalping-knife, then death by the toma-
hawk. Towering Oak was the man appointed to use the
scalping-knife. :

As the time for the ordeal approached, several Indians,
with cocked rifles, were stationed in the rear of the
party, with orders to shoot the king of the scouts dead
in case he made the least attempt to escape, and, in con-
sequence of this precaution, Buffalo Bill felt his case
hopeless. ae

“Well,” he mentally exclaimed, “I suppose my time
has come to render up my account to the Judge of
all. There’s but little of my past life that I can recall
with regret, but there are a few little things I would like
to have settled before I went. For one thing, I woul
like to know what has become of Chris Watterson.”

While he was thus musing, Paducah—for some un-
known reason—turned from the group of savages and
walked toward the edge of the swamp, at that point where
Buffalo Bill’s trail across the moat commenced.

His back was toward the scout, and as the eye of the
latter fell upon his form a desperate hope sprang up in
his mind, and a prodigious physical power seemed to
be expanding every muscle in his giant frame.

He ran his eyes over the old chief. In size the latter
was small, and age had still further reduced his height.
Though his brain was as strong as ever in wickedness and
cunning, his limbs were feeble, and there was a percepti-
ble totter in his walk. He bore no weapon, nor was there
any within a rod of him. | :

There was a movement in the crowd behind, and Buf-
falo Bill knew that the moment of his torture was come.

But he did not flinch or turn his head.

There was a sudden convulsion of his mighty frame,
a desperate flash in his eyes, a rigid setting of the fea-
tures. He was gathering his strength into one mighty

effort for a single purpose, which was made manifest °

when, by an outward pressure of the arms, the cords
that fettered his limbs burst apart like rotten straws and
he stood a free man.

The click of the rifle-locks behind was instantly heard,
but the next instant he threw himself forward full length
upon the earth, his head passing like a wedge between
the legs of Paducah, who was thrown backward. with
great violence upon Buffalo Bill’s back.

Se

BILE STORIES.

The next instant the border king rose to his feet, with
the old chief dangling head downward at his back, in
which position he-held him by the legs, which were astride
his neck and drawn forward over his shoulders.

The body of the old chief completely concealed the
form of Buffalo Bill, or enough of it to make it danger-
ous to the chief for the savages to attempt to shoot the
border king.

The quick mind of Cody had foreseen this, and the
instant he rose to his feet he bounded away toward. his
trail over the moat, anda a moment was lost from
view of the savages among the tall reeds. He still clung
to the heels of the old chief, in order to make a shield
of his body from the bullets of the savages.

The redskins gave chase, and the rapidity with which
they bounded from tussock to tussock soon convinced
Buffalo Bill that they were gaining upon him. But he
was not at a loss for an expedient.
peded his movements. Now that he was out of imme-
diate danger from the bullets, he resolved to drop the
howling chief in the swamp. This would create a ayer
sion in his favor.

His expedient worked even better than he ee it
would do. Presently he was able to drop the chief and
run forward unencumbered by him. He gained the shore,
secured his rifle and accouterments, and dashed onward
into the deep forest.

But, through that sixth sense which comes to a man
who is daily accustomed to peril, he soon became con-
scious that he was being pursued.

Looking around, he saw that Towering Oak, his bit-
terest enemy, was following him, tomahawk in hand,
and gaining upon him fast.

The king of the scouts drew his own hatchet from

his belt as he ran, and then slackened his pace and

permitted the savage to gain upon him.

Suddenly he whirled around and faced Towering Oak,

‘raising his hatchet. With all the strength and precision
at his command, he hurled it straight at the head of his
foe. ee

The Arapahoe’s quick eye caught the scout’s move-
ment.
.aim of Buffalo Bill was too rapid and good for him to
escape, and the es weapon was buried in his
brain.

A groan burst from the lips of the savage. He
straightened himself up with a convulsive jerk, and,
with the handle of the weapon still quivering in his skull,

he ran forward a few paces and then fell dead at the

feet of his victoriotis enemy.

When Buffalo Bill realized that he had really triumphed,

over Towering Oak at last, he stooped and removed the
hatchet from his skull. Then he turned away and re:
sumed his journey.

His face now wore a satisfied look, but in the death

The old chief im-"

He stooped forward to dodge the blow, but the —

 

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THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES. — a1

of Towering Oak he showed none of that wild triumph
which, if the savage himself had happened to be the victor,
would have made the forest ring with his yells.

Buffalo Bill had always considered the giant Arapahoe
the only one of his redskin race who could cope with
him hand to hand, so far as skill and physical strength
went. So in death he honored him with that kind of
respect usually entertained by one brave man toward
another.

The border king hastened toward aleaeint Prairie as
rapidly as he could. He supposed that the Arapahoes
would pursue him after they found the body of Tower-
ing Oak; but by that time he hoped to be in safety.

As he journeyed along his mind reverted to the treach-
try of Paul Boniface with a feeling of deep bitterness.

It was an easy matter for him now to understand how
it was that the savages had reached his cabin at the Dead-
fall, and how Towering Oak and the two other warriors

had managed to secrete themselves there on that fearful ,

night,

He knew that it was Boniface who had attempted the
life of Captain Watterson. And that whistle, too, which
had called the savages from their ambuscade beneath the
sand and driftwood on the bars was Paul’s. It was he
who had tampered with all the rifles in the party save
the border king’s own. And it was he who was, there-
fore, accountable for the massacre which happened that
night.

When Buffalo Bill remembered all this he yearned to
have vengeance upon his faithless friend, and it would
have gone: hard with Paul Boniface if he had met him at
that moment.

 

CHAPIER Xk.
ON THE MOHAVE.

When Buffalo Bill, after his remarkable escape from

‘the Arapahoes, got back to Pleasant Prairie, he found
that Strong Heart was already there.

The Tulari chief explained to him that he had been
obliged to leave the gorge because a party of Arapahoes

| had come there.

Knowing that his scalp was in deadly danger, he had
retreated as quickly as he could, feeling sure that Buf-
falo Bill would be able to take care of himself.

“Those must have been some of the same Arapahoes
who trailed me-to the Deadfall,” said Buffalo Bill, re-
lating to his redskin friend the thrilling experiences
through which he had passed since they last met.

Strong Heart agreed that this was probably the case,
and he added that he had seen Towering Oak aDDe the
enemies from whom he had fled.

The news of the treachery of Paul Boniface was not a
great surprise to Strong Heart. He had known him as
the hunting and trapping companion of Buffalo Bill, and

established a camp in such a place.
mon talk among my: people for several years, but not |

he now said that he never held a high opinion of him.
He had always known, through his own spies, that more
than one white renegade were allied with the Arapahoes.

“What are you and your braves going to do now?”
Buffalo Bill asked the chief. “Tt is hardly likely that
Paducah would attack the village again. Are you going
to press the fight against them?’

“Ugh!” grunted the chief. “We have many scalps,
but we want more to take back to our lodges. I know
where the Arapahoes can be found. My scouts have
told me of their secret camp in the desert.”

“In the desert?” said Buffalo Bill, in surprise.
do you mean, Strong Heart?”

“The Mohave Desert.”

“In the Mohave? But no man can live there! It is
the worst place in America. I have ridden across it once,
and I never want to do so again. Men and horses who
try to cross it are both. likely to die. How could any
man establish a camp there—let alone a band of men?”

“Yet it has been done,” returned Strong Heart, speak-
ing rapidly and excitedly in his own tongue. “There is
a spring there, so [ have been told—a secret spring of
clear, good water. It is the only. one in all that region.
The Arapahoes found it, and they have made a secret
camp around it. Old Paducah is a wise chief. There

“What

could be no better retreat for his braves if they were

hard pressed by their enemies.”

“That is so,” agreed Buffalo Bill. “Who would think
of looking for any one in the heart of the Mohave Desert?
There is nothing there, so far as the eye can see when
one crosses it, but stretches. of hot sand, with here and

pile the skeleton of horses and mules—and men, too,

who have died of thirst.”

“My white brother is right,’ said the Indian. “My
eyes have seen those bones in the sand more than once.
It was hard for me to believe that the Arapahoes had
Tt has been com-

until recently has the thing been shown plainly to me.
Two of my young men, after the fight in the night at
this settlement, followed far after the fleeting as
hoes.”

The chief paused, and Buffalo Bill looked at him o
tently, knowing well that he had something of importance

to say, and that, like most Indians, he hesitated before

telling.

“They followed the Arapahoes,” Buffalo Bill repeal
“And what did they find ?”

“They found that some of them fled straight toward

the Mohave Desert. This seemed strange to my young
men, and, although they were pursuing six men, and they
were only two, they still kept on after them, at the risk
of their scalps.”

“And did they go right on into the desert?’ Buffalo
Bill asked,

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22 THE BUFFALO

“Yes. When I came back from the gorge where the
men who pretend to be spirits were riding, I found that
these two braves had returned. It was a great surprise
to me, for I had supposed they were killed in the fight
and had gone to the happy hunting-grounds. They told

me they had followed the Arapahoes for more than twenty

miles into the desert, and had located their secret camp,
toward which they fled.”
“And they could lead vn there again: ?” said Buffalo
Bill, :
“Yes,” the Tulari replied. “It is a plain trail.”
~ “You propose to go there with your warriors and sur-
prise the Arapahoes who stay in the camp?”
“It is so,’ Strong Heart admitted; “but there is more
than that. My white brother will come with me.”
Buffalo Bill hesitated for a moment, and then replied:
“I would like to do so, Strong Heart. I have my
own score to settle with the Arapahoes. But my first
duty is to stay here at the settlement, which may possibly
be attacked again.”

Strong Heart looked at the border king with a strange,
intense gaze.

“The first duty of my white brother,” i said, “is to
go with me into the desert and seek out the secret camp
of the Arapahoes.”

“Why?” asked Buffalo Bill, in surprise.

He had no sooner put the question than the memory
of what he had overheard in the cabin at the Deadiali
returned to him like a flash. Paul Boniface had said to
Paducah that the man whom he hated should be brought
from “the camp in the desert,’ so that he might be tor-
tured to death before the eyes of the girl, who was un-
doubtedly the missing Bertha Osmond.

- The border king was, therefore, not startled when
Strong Heart replied to him:

“Long Hair will go with me to the camp in the desert
because there is a white man held prisoner there by the
Arapahoes. My young men, scouting around the camp,
saw him. ‘They heard the Arapahoes saying that Lo is
to be tortured to death.”

“That man is Chris Watterson,” Buffalo Bill said to
himself, under his breath. “I knew that that skeleton
we found was not his. He has been carried off, and

he must be rescued. This whole thing is a mystery from _

start to finish.”

“T will go with you and your braves,” the king of the
scouts added, speaking aloud to Strong Heart. “That
white man is a friend of mine, and I must try to save
him,”

“T knew that my white brother would say that,” the
Tulari responded.

“How soon will your braves be ready to start?’ Buffalo
Bill asked,
"In an hour’s’ time,”

said the chief. “I have already

————————————— Se PL ee ROO

BILL STORIES. |

given the orders, and they are saddling their horses and
making ready. I have told them to take plenty of water
and dried meat, for there is nothing of the kind anywhere
in the Mohave, except the vultures and the bones of the
men they have picked clean.”

“Tt is well,” Buffalo Bill said. “I will ride with you,
chief, as soon as your men are ready.”

“We will make a night attack,’ Strong Heart sug-
gested. “We can reach the secret camp by to-morrow
night, and assault them after darkness has fallen.”

“Yes, that will be the best way,’ Buffalo Bill agreed.
“If we attack them by day, they will be almost sure to
kill the white prisoner. They would tomahawk him at
once if they thought there was the slightest chance of his
being rescued.”

“Tt is of that I was thinking when I decided on a night
attack,” Strong Heart responded.

True to his word, the Tulari chief had his men ranged
up and ready for a start in less than the hour he had
mentioned. The settlement was not more than half-a-
day’s ride from the edge of the Mohave Desert, and the
Tularis camped by a spring on its verge when night fell
that day.

Buffalo Bill and Strong Heart had agreed that they
would push on next morning toward the Arapahoe camp,
halt out of sight of it until about midnight, and then
make their attack.

The next dav’s ride: as mot. a long one,
was a hard « tough and seasoned
Indians and for such a hardy frontiersman as Be
Bill.

The dry sand, with a pitiless sun scorching hotly over-
head, was difficult to ride over;.for their horses’ hoofs
sank deeply into it. Not the slightest trace of vegeta-
tion relieved the frightful monotony of the landscape.
Nowhere was there the least sign of water, and before
they had traveled many miles they began to come across,
here and there, the bleached skeletons of men, horses,

althvsiolt It 4vz

LPCMCnec: CVC ror ‘the

and mules who had died while trying to cross that fearful |

waste.

Fortunately, owing to Strong Heart’s forethought,
they had with them plenty of water—enough, even, to
moisten the parched mouths of the horses from time to
time,

At last one of the two braves who had discovered the
camp held up his hand’as a signal for a little column
ot Tularis to halt.

They had been following the trail which he and his
companions had made when pursuing the Arapahoes.
The tracks of their horses’ hoofs were still plainly visible
in the dry sand, for rarely does a breath of air stir the
arid expanse of the Mohave and obliterate any mark
which has been made upon it.

Strong Heart looked inquiringly at his young warrior,
and the latter said:

 

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“The camp is four miles beyond that next ridge, and.

if we cross the ridge it oy well be that s some of the
Arapahoe scouts will see us.’ ne

dhe chief saw the wisdom of this suggestion ab once, y

and gave an order to his men to remain where they, were
until night fell. - i

Luckily for them, the afternoon was ray far ad-
vanced, and they had not many hours to wait before
the sun declined beneath the horizon and the cool breath
of evening relieved their sufferings and those of the pant-
ing horses.

Soon after darkness fell and the moon. rose over the
desert, making a weird and ghastly effect.

“It is time for us to go forward,” said Strong Heart
to Buffalo Bill, about eight o'clock. “We have four

miles to travel, after we cross that next ridge, and we
must scout around me Arapahoe camp, sO _that we ee

take them by surprise.”

“You and I might go forward together,” Buffalo Bill
suggested,
warriors can follow at a little distance behind us, and
be ready when you tell them that the time has come to

strike.”

The Tulari chief agreed with Buffalo Bill’s ees
He gave orders to his men to follow at a distance of about
half-a-mile behind them, and be ready to close in as soon
as he gave the word or made the signal.

Silently as.shadows,* the little column rode over the.

moonlit desert in single file.
Heart were in the lead.

Soon after they crossed the ridge the keen eyes of
the king of the scouts caught sight of a small camp-fire
twinkling faintly far over the desert. He pointed it out
to the chief ‘who rode by his side, and the latter nodded.

“Tt is the Arapahoes,” he said. .“ We will lift all their
scalps.”

Luckily, the moon was frequently obscured ce clouds,
and the war party was able to approach to within about
a mile of the camp without. running any serious risk of
being seen.

Then Strong Heart gave the word to halt, and dis-
mounted from his horse, an example which Buffalo, Bill
at once followed.

_ Buffalo Bill and Strong

The two men were to gO on on foot nad scout around

the camp, their horses being held for them by two of the
Palen braves. °

When they had traversed about half the distance they
came across the grim remains of a party that had evi-
dently attempted to cross is desert perhaps many years
before.

_All around them were aed skeletons, looking
ghastly in the pale light of the moon. Men and animals
had alike perished. : :

Buffalo Bill bent down to lok at one of the. skeletons—
that of a man—and as he did so a plumed and feathered

“and we can see what they are doing. Your

BILL. STORIES. — 23

Indian rose suddenly from behind a sand-dune ee a
dozen feet of him. .

He had a rifle in his hand, and, with a. oe foe of.
hatred convulsing his features, he leveled it instantly
at the head of the border king.

Strong Heart, looking up, saw Buffalo Bill’s ee
and promptly flung his tomahawk at the head of the.
Arapahoe.

The rifle exploded in the air as the | man ‘fell backward,
with the sharp blade of the Tulari’ s weapon fixed in his
forehead.

Buffalo Bill had been absorbed in ie Iaspectiont a the
grim relics of mortality before him, but at the sound of
the shot he straightened up, whipped out his revolver,
and dashed forward to the sand-dune. But there was
no necessity for him to shoot, for the tomahawk of Strong
Heart had done its work.

Turning the dead body over so that they could examine
the features in the moonlight, the two friends saw that
the man was none other than Paducah, the old chief of
the Arapahoes.

“There is no time to be lost,” said Buffalo Bill hastily.
“The Arapahoes must have heard that shot. We must
attack them at once.”

“My men have heard it, too,”
moee! Tere they come!

It was true enough. Looking in the direction from
which they had come, Buffalo Bill saw the long file’ of
mounted warriors galloping over the desert toward: him..

In a few minutes they had reached the spot.

Buffalo Bill and Strong Heart vaulted upon their
horses and led the way, in a wild, furious charge, fone
the camp-fire that burned ahead of them. oe

The surprise had failed, and the Arapahoes were mes
to receive them. But their numbers were much less
than those of the Tularis, and the result of the fierce
hand-to-hand fight that followed the charge. was not long
in doubt.

With Paducah aa Towering ‘Ont both dead, the a
ahoes had lost their best leaders. They ran wildly to
and fro, fighting hand to hand the first enemy they. met;
but without any generalship or direction.

Several of the Tularis were slain, but the Arapahoes
were wiped out to the last man.

responded Strong Heart.

Buffalo Bill was first in the charge, aaa at once ok
eagerly around the camp-fire for some sign of Watterson.

He saw him lying bound in front of the entrance to a
small skin tent, which was near-by the -camp-fire. .

A tall Arapahoe brave had leaped toward him, at his
knife upraised; but before the blade could descend the
king of the scouts shot the redskin dead with his re-
volver. :

Then he spurred his horse in front of Wetton and
fought desperately to save him, until all the Arapahoes
had been slain. This action of his was in the highest

 
 

24 THE BUFFALO

degree necessary, because, just as Buffalo Bill and Strong

Heart had anticipated, the enemy made several furious

oa to murder he prisoner rather than have him
rescued. -

As soon as the paae was over Buffalo Bill drew
out his bowie-knife and cut the thongs which bound
the prisoner. Watterson was ina bad way. The Indians
had not been at all gentle in their treatment of him, and
it was doubtful if he could have survived much more of
the-terrible captivity he-had endured in the desert.

The Tularis, yelling triumphantly, busied themselves
in scalping their fallen foes, while Buffalo Bill was occu-
pied with the more humane task of reviving and cheering
his weakened friend.

‘Yet there was one thing which he had to tell W atter-
son that was not easy to break to him. He had to give.

him the news of the disappearance, sudden and mysteri- |

ous, of Bertha Osmond, his own sweetheart; and it took
all Cody’s kindly tact to do this without giving the man
a shock that might have been fatal to him in his weak
condition.

He told him what he had heard of the talk between

Paul Boniface and Paducah, and added:

_ “We will rescue her, to a certainty, Watterson, and
wipe out that band of villains. Do not fear for her! As
soon as we get back to Pleasant Prairie, we will go on
the first night to investigate that nlace and see what we
ean find.
your sweetheart and track down that traitor, Paul Boni
TACe,

Watterson thanked the king of the scouts with a grate-
ful look, and a few minutes later all the party had started
back on the return journey.

&

(aneenemiph orate

. CHAPTER: X1,
THE END OF THE MYSTERY.

The sun had just gone down behind the thickly clustered
trees of the forest when three men appeared from a
clump of dense undergrowth and walked swiftly toward
the Devil’s Gorge.

They were Captain Chris Watterson, Buffalo Bill, and
the Tulari chief, Strong Heart.

The captain looked pale from his terrible experiences
in the Mohave Desert, but his face wore a hopetul look
and his step was firm and elastic. He had come, as it
were, like one from the grave; but the thought of rescuing
the girl whom heloved had made him forget oy what
he had passed through.

~ Buffalo Bill had told him of the conversation he had

‘everheard between Paul Boniface and Paducah at the

cabin of the Deadfall; and Watterson agreed with him
that the captured girl to whom reference had been made
must. be his own sweetheart, Bertha Osmond...

- He agreed with Cody, too, that the girl was probably

T shall’be much surprised if we do not find,

BILL STORIES.

in the hands of the band of outlaws who made their
headquarters at the mysterious Hidden Ranch.

There could be little doubt, from all that had happened,
that Paul Boniface was a leader among them, as well
as an ally of the Arapahoes.

“What happened to you when we missed you after
our escape from the Deadfall >” the king of the scouts had
asked the man whom he had rescued so strangely from
a teroe. fate 77

“T hardly knew,”

Watterson replied. “YT was knocked

out by an Indian who was with Boniface, and I shot the

Indian when I was lying on the ground, just falling into

insensibility. When I came to my senses I had been

carried right away, and was a captive among the red-

skins in the Mohave Desert, where you found me.”

_ “The skeleton that we found must have been that

of the Indian whom you shot,” Buffalo Bill observed.
“Undoubtedly it was.”

1 But what about that writing upon’ the stone—the-

message that was written in blood?”

Buffalo Bill explained to his friend about the message
which said that he was dying, and ended in his own
unfinished signature.

Wattersoon looked bewildered.

“T know nothing at all about that,’”’ he said. “It must
have been a trick worked by Paul Boniface to throw
you off the scent.”

The king of the scouts sav instamd
truth of the matter. When the traitor
companion dead he doubtless concluded exactly what
would happen—that the body would soon become a mere
skeleton, and might. be mistaken for that of the, white
man he had kidnaped with the intention of torturing to
death. He therefore resolved to help matters along with
a message written in blood upon the stone.

t this

  
 

 

“When I meet Boniface,” the captain remarked, “there
will be a heavy account to be settled between us. I never
had the slightest idea that he was in love with Bertha.
{ cannot conceive, even to-day, why he had such a bitter
grudge against me and went to such lengths to gratify
it. The whole affair is wrapped in mystery from start
to finish.”

“Tf we find this Hidden Ranch of the outlaws,” re
plied Buffalo Bill, “I think we shall be pretty near getting
at the heart of the mystery.”

“Ves,” said: Watterson. ‘I think there can be no pos-
sible doubt that Bertha has been kidnaped: by them—
for what purpose it is impossible to say. All that we can
do is to-go forwa i and try to discover the strange mys-
tery of this gorge.”

The expedition upon which the ce men were going
was one attended with great peril. For this reason, Buf-
falo Bill had not brought with him a large party from
the settlement at Pleasant Prairie. He did not think

it right to take on. such an enterprise men who might

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THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES. | 25

be needed to’ guard their homes and families from stich

an Indian attack as might be expected at any unie from.

the Arapahoes.

‘In one respect the adventurers were ee The
night promised to be exceedingly dark and still. A dense
fog had risen and spread itself like a white, fleecy veil
over the dense forest around the gorge, and it made the
atmosphere heavy and damp.

About two hours after dusk the three men reached the

Devil's Gorge about a mile below the Crystal Falls. There

was no moon, and the darkness was almost impenetrable.

But Buffalo Bill, owing to his frequent explorations, was
thoroughly filer with the lay of the land, ee he
did not know its hidden ‘secrets.

The darkness proved no barrier to the progress of
the little party, with him at its head’ He took the lead,

and, with his companions following close behind him,

moved sey up the gorge, hee the edge of the
stream.

After a few minutes’ rapid walking they arrived at the
foot of the falls. Here they halted and listened intently
for a few moments—not one of the three making a sound.

All was silent as the tomb, save for the monotonous
roar of the falls as they splashed upon the rocks beneath.

The three now spoke in whispers and glanced around
them, wondering what would happen. It was strange
that they should take such precautions, but a premonition
of what might happen seemed to dominate them con:
pletely.

Without exchanging a word, ae all homed to realize
that they were, as Buffalo Bill had said, near the heart of
the mystery. They appeared to know, by instinct rather
than reasoning, that they were within reach of the mys-
terious Hidden Ranch of the outlaws.

After a few minutes’ whispered conversation, the three
men crept as quietly as they could down the bank and
waded into the stream.

When they had gained its center they Galea upward
toward the falls. They halted in the dashing spray at
the very foot of the descending torrent.

Buffalo Bill was leading the way, and was so close
to the sheet of water as it fell over the rocks that he
could have touched it with his hand.

- The foam-lashed cascade rushed wildly around them,
while the mist and spray, chilly and damp, enveloped
them completely. They were now—if they. had only
known it—nearer than any man from Pleasant Prairie

, had ever been to the mystery of the outlaws’ stronghold.

Only the descending column of water in front of them,
spread out like a great curtain against the face of the

rock, plunging over it in one unbroken sheet—only this

separated them from the mouth of the cavern in. which
the outlaws lived. ;

The three men stood motionless. By some indefinable
instinct, they felt a knowledge of what was before them.

\

ridin se i I ac a i by. WMimriclc Mita eae RCE SC US ates a ARSC Rae Me tea is

Watterson turned to Buffalo ‘Bill with an inquiring
glance. ee

Vileap through it!” said the king of the scouts. -

There was nothing to show a reason for that. But
it was a matter of instinct, such as comes to men who
are used to act with instant decision. |

The moment the word was given the three men sprang
forward through the sheet of falling water. |

After a severe pounding, they landed-safely in the
mouth of a rocky cavern, suffering, however, a very
thorough drenching. oe a fe

The place was as dark as pitch, and the roar of the
falling waters sounded loudly through the cavern.

“I wonder what we will find in this

It was Watterson who spoke, in a tone which sug-
gested that a strain of nervousness had entered into his
usually brave nature. |

Before he could finish the sentence he was interrupted
by the sound of hoofed feet approaching from the: in-
terior of the cavern. Tes

The rlext moment the three men crouched down against
the wall of rock at their side. The rays of a strong
light pierced the gloom of the place where they were
standing, and the Demon Rider, mounted upon his horned
beast, with the glowing torch that he always carried
in his hand, appeared before them. Unlike the times
when they had seen him before, he was moving at a slow
pace,

The glow of the torch showed that the cavern was of
considerable height and width. But the dimensions of
the place did not interest Buffalo Bill and his two com-
panions nearly so much as the appearance of the creature
who was approachng them. ie

As he neared the falls he came to a sudden halt... Buf-
falo Bill, looking at him intently, saw that he was riding
nothing more nor less than a large tame buffalo. The .
rider himself was, as he had supposed, only a man clothed
in the skin of a mountain-lion.

The keen scent of the buffalo at once detected the
presence of intruders. Elevating his great shaggy brown
head, he sniffed the air and shook his mane with an angry
bellow. He was a noble-looking beast, upon whom
Buffalo Bill—an expert in regard’ to his species—looked
with the greatest admiration.

But when the border king looked at the. aa ce felt
a shudder of disgust and hatred pass through. him.

 

The bellowing of the buffalo immediately aroused the
suspicions of the rider, and he moved uneasily in his
seat. It was evident that he was about to issue forth on
one of the wild, ey excursions that he took down the
gorge.

Buffalo Bill foresaw ee and resolved that ie would
prevent it,

With a single bound, he dashed to a side a the ani-
mal. The man turned toward him, but the border king -

 
26 | THE BUFFALO

leaped upward, caught him by the throat, and dragged
him from the’buffalo’s back. The beast, suddenly fright-

ened, dashed through the spray of the falls and galloped

away down the gorge, bellowing loudly.

‘Meanwhile, Buffalo Bill had the rider down on the
ground, and did not relax his grip upon his throat until
life’ was almost extinct.

“Watterson picked up the torch that had fallen from
the man’s hand, and held it above the scout and his help-
less prisoner. ! :

Not until then did Buffalo Bill let go of the man and
tear aside the skin of the mountain-lion in which he had
clothed himself. When he did so the mystery of the
Demon Rider was fo longer a mystery. Cody recognized
the man as the captain of the outlaw gang—a man whom
he had known years before in Kansas.

“Well, you cur!” hissed the border king, in the man’ S
ear. “Justice has got you at last!”

The outlaw gasped and tried to speak, but Buffalo

Bill placed the cold point of a knife at this throat as a

warning to him to desist from any struggling. He saw
that his case was hopeless, and he UNE] submitted to
his captot’s will.

“Ate your gang all in this hole?’ asked the border
king. “Tell me the truth, or you will only have a few
seconds to live!”

The outlaw was by no means a coward, or he would
never have been the head of his band. But he knew
the character of the man into whose power he had fallen,
and the look in Buffalo Bill’s eyes warned him that
there must be no trifling. He knew that there was no
alternative but to answer the question plainly and
straightly, so he managed to reply, between gasps:

“There are thirty of them—-in there—besides the girl.”

Delighted at the thought that at last he had solved
the mystery which had puzzled him for so long, Buffalo
Bill sprang to his feet, releasing the man.

‘The outlaw saw that his enemy was off his euard,

and he instantly took advantage of it. Quicker than a
flash, he was on his feet, and tried to escape.

- But’ Strong Heart was also’ off the alert, and, with a
single blow ‘of his tomahawk, he felled the Tobbet dead
at his feet.

Buffalo Bill and Watterson wasted no time over him.
Dragging his body quickly aside, they hastened forward
to reconnoiter the cavern.

After they had gone some distance from the entranice,
they found that the passageway narfowed until it was
but a few feet in width. In this narrow ee a Wea
built timber door opposed them.

At this door one of the outlaws was on oe “But
the king of the scouts pushed’ the door open and Lee
the man with one terrible blow of his fist.

As Buffalo Bill entered he started and drew: back. He

saw about ten or twelve men coming towatd nit. Some

BILL STORIES.

of them éartied torches which - up the cavern with a
ruddy glow.

Chris Watterson, who was standing right behind Buf-
falo Bill, gave a cry of astonishment and joy. He saw
his sweetheart—the missing girl, Bertha Osmond—at
the farther end of the rocky chamber, behind the robbers.

‘There was a deep silence for an instant as the men
confronted one another. Then there followed the report
of three rifles, rolling with a sullen boom through the
great cavern and echoing and oe through its
depths.

Three of the outlaws fell dead in their tracks, and the
others, thoroughly panic-stricken, turned to flee—whither
they know not. The only exit from their lair was that
which the three indomitable men before them guarded.
“There are only three of them!” shouted one of the
bandits. “We can get through them and escape.”

Rallied by, this cry, the robbers dashed forward; and

for a few moments there was a desperate hand- to-hand

encounter.

At the very commencement of the fray Watterson was
stricken down tinconscious by a blow with the butt of a
gun; but Buffalo Bill and Strong Heart, having fired
all the shots in their repeaters, fought back to back with
tomahawks and kept the outlaws at bay. The torches
which the latter carried placed them at some disadvantage,
dazzling their eyes and showing the two enemies where
to strike.

One of the bandits, in the midst of the conflict, at-
tempted to escape with the girl captive in his arms.

The keen eye of Buffalo Bill had marked his move-
ments.

With the agility of a panther, he sprang forward and
dealt the man a blow which sent him ‘reeling to the
ground, stone-dead. As he fell, the knight of the plains
caught the girl in his arms and dragged her backward: to
safety behind himself and Strong Heart.

Turning swiftly, Buffalo Bill looked at the man whom
he had just slain. He was none other than Paul Boni-
face—the renegade and traitor!

Entaged by the death of this villain—--who had. been
one of their leaders—the remaining outlaws pressed Buf-
falo Bill and Strong Heart hard.

The two men placed their backs against the rocky wall
of the cavern, in front of the unconscious body of Wat-
terson, and fought with the desperation of madmen. The
torches which the outlaws had flung down, in order to

grasp their weapons more readily, lay all around upon °

the ground, flickering and sputtering with a sickly glow.
For several minutes the battle raged furiously and

desperately, and it seemed that Buffalo Bill and his red- —

skin friend were doomed.

Suddenly there was a loud shout behind them. A

strong party of settlers from Pleasant Prairie, with a
war patty of the Tulari Indians at their back, dashed

 

 

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into the cavern; and in a few minutes the fight was ended
by the death of all the outlaws.

The mystery of the Devil’s Gorge was a mystery no
longer. In a corner of the cavern the white horse was
found stabled, with the ghostly apparel of his rider lying
near-by.

The tame buffalo ridden by the Demon Rider was cap-
tured by Buffalo Bill, and given by him to the people
of Pleasant Prairie, by whom it was a for a long
time as a relic of their adventures.

Of all who rejoiced at the conquest of “he outlaws,
there was none who did so more heartily than Bertha
Osmond, the girl who had been rescued from their
power.

Just as the conquest reached its ae Watterson re-
covered from the blow he had received, and his first act

was to rush forward and seize his sweetheart in his arms. |

She looked at him strangely, and then fainted dead
away.

It was not until several days later. that she was able
to tell him what had happened, and to explain several
of the mysterious things that had been puzzling him and
Buffalo Bill for some time past.

“T have a confession to make to you, Chris,” she said
to the young captain finally. “I am the daughter of the
man whom Strong Heart, the Indian, killed—the leader
of the outlaw gang. The caster of the ‘Hidden Ranch

>

_ was never any mystery to me.’

Watterson and Buffalo Bill—for the king of the scouts
was also present when the girl spoke—looked at her in
sheer amazement.

“Yes,” she continued, “I am the most unhappy daughter
of that unhappy man. He should not be judged too
hardly, for in all his crime he was not entirely sane. |
know this may seem like an imaginary tale, but it is
nevertheless entirely true. For years I have been leading
a double life. J have been living at the settlement, as
you knew me, and I have been going backward and for-
ward to my father’s retreat in the cavern at the Devil’s
Gorge ”’

“And what more?” asked Buffalo Bill, looking at the
girl with an instinctive knowledge of what she had to
say. at |
“You must be able to guess the truth, Colonel Cody,”
“Paul Boniface was the chief man in the
outlaw gang, next to my own father. My father thought
much of him, and wanted me to marry him. But the
only man I ever cared for was Chris, and yet I was so
thoroughly under my father’s power that I dared not
disobey him.

“Paul knew quite well of the love bees een Chris and
me; and he was madly jealous, although he never showed
it openly, and Chris never suspected it. There was
always a close friendship between the Arapahoes and
my father’s band.

“When you and the other settlers went on the hunting
excursion from the flatboat, Paul. Boniface -saw his.
chance. He resolved to gratify his vengeance and get rid
of his rival.” E

“T see it all now!” exclaimed Buffalo Bill. “You were
at the bottom of all that mysterious business.”

“Yes,” said Bertha, “it was my canoe which you tried
to pursue before you reached the Bars. It was Paul
Boniface himself who tried to shoot Chris shortly after-
ward, and it was I who, by means of the white flag, tried
to warn him of his danger. | had overheard a conversa-
tion between my father and one of his gang, and | knew
what Boniface intended to do. I knew that he meant to
set the Araphaoes onto the hunting-party, for the sole
purpose of killing Chris, so’that he might have no rivalry
in his courtship of myself.” oR fy

“And I would wager any money,” interrupted Buffalo
Bill, “that it was you who tried to warn us at the Bars
of the danger that was coming from the Indians!”

The girl looked up at him quickly and nodded her head.

“Yes, that is so,” she said. ‘You mean that trick with
the phosphorus? When I paddled ahead of the flatboat
in my canoe I found out that a number of Indians had
ambushed themselves on that sandy islet to wait for you.
Just what they were going to. do, I could not tell. But
{ knew quite well that their presence. there boded no
good to you. I could not come to you and tell you the
‘rath directly, because J’was afraid that my father would
punish me bitterly for interfering with Paul Boniface’s
plans.

“The best thing I could think of was to trace that word,
‘Death!’ in those phosphorescent letters on the side of my
canoe. «i

“Unhappily, the warning was in vain,’ said Cody sadly,
thinking of his friends who had been massacred on that
sad occasion.

The girl’s eyes welled full of tears, and she said:

“T did the best I could. I was nearly distracted bé-
tween my love and duty to my father and my love for
Chris.”

“But how was it,” asked the border king, “that you -
were taken away to the cave in the gorge where we
found you?”

“I was kidnaped by Paul Boniface and some of his
Indian allies,’ the girl responded. ‘After he had cap-
tured Chris, he determined that he would get me into his
power—and my father was but little better than a tool
in his fan, just as Paducah and the rest of the Arapa-
hoes were.’

Chris Watterson rose to his feet, with an n angry ex-
clamation. :

“That man was one of the worst villains that ever
lived!’ he exclaimed furiously. “If only he were alive
now, there would be a bitter reckoning between us.”

“He is dead now,” said Buffalo Bill, “and his sins

a SbetholaseUilos i) Sas a5 rls eprom eA RISA HAD aa cea sh

 
 

28

and crimes have died with him.
Sais |

“But it is not so easy to forgive when you have suf-
fered as I have suffered,” the girl interrupted. “T lived
in hourly expectation of being forced to marry that

Let no hard thing be

villian, and if you had not come to my rescue when

you did, my father might have been overpersuaded by
him, and might have compelled me to abandon Chris and
consent to his proposal.” on |

“Then it was you, Miss Osmond,” Buffalo Bill asked,
“who waved the signal to Captain Watterson on the flat-
boat from the shore, to warn him that the hunting-party
was running into danger?” a4

“Yes, I hardly knew what to do, but I did the best I
could. a

“Tt is all over between us now, Chris,” she added, turn-
ing sadly to her lover. “My father’s death and my own
double life are between us. It is impossible for me to

marry you now. I release you from your engagement,

and we must part, never to meet again.”

Chris Watterson rose to his feet, deeply agitated by
these words, and declared that no power on earth—that
nothing which had happened——would ever force him to
abandon the girl he loved.

Bertha, for some time, remained firm in her determi-
nation, but Buffalo Bill took her aside and talked to her
earnestly until he changed her views.

He pointed out to her that her father had been slain

by Strong Heart, the Tulari chief, and that. Watterson
had had nothing to do with his death, and had not even
been aware of his identity, as the name under which he
was known was not her own.

“But my own conduct must forever be a barrier be-
tween us!” Bertha exclaimed. a

“You only did what you were forced to do by your
father,’ Buffalo Bill replied, “and you took every chance
you could to save Chris and the rest of the hunting-party
from the hands of the redskins.”

“The whole trouble was caused by Paul Boniface,”
said Watterson. ‘‘Now he is dead, we can forget all
‘that is passed. In a few months it will all seem like a
bad dream. The Demon Rider and the White Horseman
will ride the Devil’s Gorge no more. The Arapahoes,
after the severe lesson they have received, will leave us
in peace. A new’and happier life opens before us, Bertha.
Will you live it with me?”

“Yes,” Bertha softly murmured.

Buffalo Bill quietly stole out of the room and left the
lovers alone. ee

Outside, calmly smoking his peace-pipe, was the Tulari
chief, Strong Heart. é

He had been made aware of the relations between
Bertha and Watterson, and knew that the man whom he

had tomahawked in the Devil’s Gorge was the girl’s ©

father.

THE BUFFALO BILL. STORIES:

He looked at Buffalo Bill inquiringly.

The king of the scouts nodded, to show that everything
had been satisfactorily arranged between the lovers.

“Ugh!” grunted the chief, in English. ‘Heap nice
squaw !”’

: THE END.

The next story in THe Burrato Bitt Srortes, No.
257, will be entitled, “Buffalo Bill’s Rio Grande Feud; or,
The Giant of the Apaches.”

It deals with some of the border king’s most stirring
adventures on the border line between Mexico and Texas
—the scene of some of his greatest exploits. It was there
that he encountered an Apache chief who proved to be
every whit as terrible a foe to him as Towering Oak, the
Arapahoe champion. _Buy next week’s number, and find
out how Buffalo Bill finally overcame the giant of the
Apaches.

 

 

About tke eo
Early A 4
Numbers of ip Op

We receive hundreds of lettera every week from readers
asking if we can supply the early numbers of Tip Top contain-
ing Frank’s adventures, Im every case we are obliged te reply
that numbers 1 to 300 are entirely out of print.

We would like to cail the atteation of our readers to the fact
that the Frank Merriwell Steries now being published in book
form in the Medal Library are inclusive of these early numbers.
fae first book to appeer waa No. 150 entitled “Frank Merriwell’s
Schooldays.”

We give herewith a complete list of all the atories that have
been published in book form up to the time of writing. We will
be glad to send a fine colored. cover catalogue of the Medal
Library which is just filled with good things for boys, upos
receipt of a one-cent stamp to cover pestage.

The Price ef The Merriwell Beoks is Ten Cents per Copy. At ali Nowsdealera

 

 

 

Frank Merriwell at Yale.
Frank Merriwell Down South.
Frank Merriwell in Camp.
Frank Merriwell ia England.
Frank Merriwell im Eurepe.
Frenk Merriwell im Maine.
Frank Merriwell en the Read.
Frank Merriwell’a Athletes. Medal
Frank Merriwell’a Bicycle Tour. - Medal
Frank Merriwell’s Book of Physical Development.
Diamond Hand-Bocok
: Medal
Medal
Medal
Medal
Medal
Medai
Medal
‘Medal
Medal
Medal
Medal
_ Medal
. Medal
Medal
Medai
Medal
Medal
Medal
Medal
Medal

Medal
‘Medal
Medal
Medal
Medal
‘Medal
Medal »

Prank Merriwell’s Bravery. |
Frank Merriwell’s Champions.
Frank Moerriwell’s Chase.
Frank Merriwell’s Chums.
Frank Merriwell’s Cellezce Chums.
Frank Merriwell’s Courage. :
Frank Merriwell’s Cruise.
Frank Merriwell’s Danger.
Frank Merriwell’s Daring.
Frank Merriwell’s Fame.
Frank Merriwell’s ®irst Job.
Frank Merriwell’s Foes,
Frank Merriwell’s Fortune.
Frank Merriwell’s Great Schemes
Frark Merriwell’s Hard Luck.
Wrank Merriwell’s Hunting Tour.
Frenk Merriweli’a Loyalty.
¥rank Merriwell’s New Comedian.
Frank Merriwel!’s Opportunity.
Frank Merriwell’s Own Company.
Frank Merriweli’s Problem.
Frank Merriwell’s Prosperity.
Frank Merriwell’s Protege.
Frank Meérriwell’s Races.
Frank Merriwell’s Return to Yale.
Frank Merriwell’s School-Days.
Frank Merriwell’s Secret,
Frank Merriwell’s Skill.
ma Wrank Merriweill’s Sports Afield.
os Krank Merriwell’s Stage Hit.
Frank Merriwell’s Struggle.
Krank Merriwell’s Trip West,
Merriwell’s Vacation.

 

 

 

,

pO

> tm ee
 

 

The best stories of Western adventure are now
being published in the RoucH RipER WEEKLY. ©

These are the rattling adventures of Ted pHeee
aptly styled «King of the Wild West.”

Get acquainted with Ted.

You'll be glad to

know him and will certainly thank us afterward for
introducing you. The current number is a good long
one and only costs five cents at your newsdealer's.

 

a IVE CENTS

 

 

 

HERE ARE SOME OF THE LATEST TITLES

80—King of the Wild West’s Camel Hunt; or, Young
Rough Riders in the Mojave Desert.
8i—King of the Wild West and the “Bad Men) Or,
>» ?Puttme a “Lid” on the Territory.
82—King of the Wild West on Guard; or, In the Cause
of the Governor’s Son.
83—King of the Wild West’s. “Bounties”
: Young Wolf Hunters of Montana.

7 Or.) ne

84—King of the Wild West’s Sapphire Mines; or, The

Smugglers of Yogo Creek.

85—King of ‘the Wild West’s Crooked Trail; or, A Trip.

into Old Mexico.
86—King of the Wild West’s Hunan Map; or, The
Treasure of the Magic Cave Trail.
87—King of the Wild West in the Corral; or, Teach-
ing the Law to Custer, the Wild Horse.
88—King of the Wild West’s Dangerous Game: or,
The Win-Out in Idaho.

89—King of the Wild West’s Strange Find; or, The

Lost City of the Sangre de Christo.
9o—King of the Wild West’s Militia ; or, nes the
Strike in Leadville.

 

gi—King of the Wild West’s Justice; or, The Sheep
War of the Las Animas.

g2—King of the Wild West’s Saint; or, The ond of
Polygamy in Utah.

93—King of the Wild West’s Hold; or,: Cann ing the
Big Timber Thieves.

o4——-King of the Wild West’s. Submarine; or,
Search for Sunken Treasure.

95—King of the Wild West’s Finish;
Stone Door.

96—King of the Wild West’s Peril; or, The Cannibals
of Tiburon Island.

97—King of the Wild West’s Strange Ones or, The
White Princess of Sonora.

o8—King of the Wild West’s Horsethief; or, The ©
Enigma of Lost Springs.

99—King of the Wild West’s Chase; or, The Rescue
of Yuen Ho.

100—King of the Wild West’s Meteor; or, The Race for
the Klondike Diamond.

101—King of the Wild West in Siberia; or, Castaway on
the Arctic Ocean.

The
or, The Great

 

 

These may be secured from any newsdealer at five cents per copy, or
if your newsdealer cannot supply you, we will send them direct Pe

upon receipt of price.

STREET & SMITH, Publishers, NEW YORK

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

one hundred thousand

copies of TIP TOP

Pca are sold throughout the
Unie States every week! There
are many good reasons why boys like
TIE YOR, better than ‘any other
five cent weekly publication. Why

 

 

 

 

do YOU like it?

We have prepared a set of six
handsome post cards, which we will
send to every boy who will write and
give us his opinion of No. 521 of
TIP TOP, entitled “Frank Merri-
well’s Visit; or, Hot Times at Farn-
ham Hall.”

These cards are illustrations of
Frank Merriwell, Brad Buckhart,
Obediah ‘Tubbs, Joe Crowfoot, Dick
Merriwell, and Cap’n Wiley.

They are printed in many colors.
and will be a fine addition to any
boy’s collection of post cards. Write
now. They are free. :

 

 

PUBLISHERS

 

 

 

a ENR man re na eect et Pree pp te A Ry tren mw nero rt lan

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

| Oe of boys
everywhere will agree |
with us when we Say that
the Rough Rider Weekly —
contains the best stories of —
Western adventure that.
ever were written. . The
author, Ned Taylor, is a
Western man—born and
raised among the strong,
self-reliant cowboys.

We will send a set of
handsome post cards, six in
number, to every boy who

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

willwrite andtelluswhathe
thinks of No. 103 of Rough

Rider Weekly, entitled “King of the

Wild West’s Dive; or, The Finding of the ‘Golden Baby.’”

These cards are highly attractive, being

printed in many colors,

showing just what Ted Strong, the King of the Wild West, and his com-

rades look like.

They are equal to the kind you pay five cents each

for and are just what every boy, who is making a collection, will want.
Remember, they are entirely free and every boy who says a good

word for Rough Rider will receive a set.

 

PUBLISHERS
NEW YORK

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

HE old popular favorite, Frank Merriwell, has signalized his triumphant return to
the pages of TIP TOP, beginning with No. 512, by opening a novel

 

where he designs to put into practice some clever schemes he has long entertained,
with the idea of building up the constitutions of backward lads. Here; there naturally
opens up a glorious opportunity for meeting new characters; while the strange adven-
tures and thrilling situations connected with up-to-date American sports are handled as
only Frank Merriwell knows how.

The famous TIP TOP promises great things from this time on to its world-
wide circle of admirers, and with this novel field open to such a talented pen, you may
rest assured, boys, Burt L. Standish will spread such a feast before you as has never
before been dreamed of.

Tell all your young friends that Frank has come back to his own, better equipped
than ever to arouse the interest and enthusiasm of his vast army of boy readers. —
Consult the catalogue below for titles.

512—FRANK MERRIWELL’S NEW IDEA;
Or, THE AMERICAN SCHOOL OF ATHLETIC DEVELOPMENT,

513—-FRANK MERRIWELL’S TROUBLES; |.
Or, ENEMIES OF THE SCHOOL, oi

5{4—FRANK MERRIWELL’S PUPIL 33 :
Or, THE WIZARDS ‘OF WATER POLO.

5 5—DICK. MERRIWELL’S SATISFACTION;
Or, HOT WORK AT INDOOR BASEBALL.

 

 

 

For sale by all newsdealers, or sent postpaid by the publishers

STREET @ SMITH Publishers,

   

 

La Ig Cm geen te ec ar ES PRM aca

 

 

 
 

 

 

 
THE FAVORITE LIST

OF FIVE-CENT LIBRARIES

 

 

 

 

<6, The STRONT BRM:
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the Redskins.
BILL STORIES.

 

 

 

 

 

 

BUFFALO BILL STORIES

Buffalo Bill is the hero of a thousand exciting adventures among
These are given to our boys only in the BUFFALO
They-are bound to interest and please you.

 

 

 

 

PN Vin A RYT POR OTE

MIGHT AND MAIN

These are stories of the adven-
tures of boys who succeeded in
climbing the ladder of fame by
honest effort. No more inter-
esting tales can be imagined.
Each number is at least one-third
longer than the ordinary fiveé-
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BRAVE AND BOLD

cise ae Every boy who prefers variety

Ne WV NY, mal |
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A DIFFERENT: SQMPLETE STORY EVERY. WE!
be a reader of Brave.and Bold.

 

in his reading matter,

   

All these were written by authors
i; who are past masters in the art
of telling boys’ stories. . Every

|| tale is complete in itself.

NICK CARTER WEEKLY

We know, boys, that there is | {ae 7a 1%
no need of Hnicne to you rose |
Nicholas. Carter, the greatest.) e021,
sleuth that ever lived. ~Every
number containing the adven-
tures of Nick Carter has a peculiar, |
but delightful, power of fascina- =
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ed cet was appointed eps a
uty marshal by accident, but he
resolves to use his authority and
rid his ranch of some very tough
bullies. He does it in such a slick
way that everyone calls him/
“King of the Wild West’ and he
certainly deserves his title.

fe se KING Yor WILD WEST

« WINRINE a town by & Ride

   
 

 

 

 

 

 

| The demand for stirring stories
| of Western adventure is admir-
| ably filled by this library. Every
"= | up-to-date boy ought to read just
1 how law and order are estab-
4 lished and maintained on our
Western plains by Diamond Dick,
_ Bertie, and Handsome Harry.

 

 

 

BOWERY BOY ee

The adventures of a\ poor waif 7, - .
ee mi
ae

 

 

whose only name is ‘‘Bowery |
Billy.” Billy is the true product
of the streets of New York. No
boy)can read the tales of his trials | > og
without imbibing some of that
resgurce and courage that makes
the character of this ‘homeless boy
stand out so prominently.

 

 

 

 

 

opment.

tainly the best tales of athletic adventure.

 

THE TIP TOP WEEKLY

Boys, Frank Merriwell has opened a school of physical devel-
He has gathered all of his old-time comrades about him
and their adventures are wonderfully interesting. Le are cer-