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' dssued Weekly. By subscription $2.50 per year. Entered as Second-class Matter at the N.Y. Post Office, by STREET & SMITH, 79-89 Seventh Ave., N. Y.
Entered according to Act of Congress tn the year 1908, 12 the Office of the Librarian of Congress, Washington, D. C.

 

{35> Beware of Wild West imitations of the Buffalo Bill Stories. They are about fictitious characters. The Buffalo
Bill weekly is the only weekly containing the adventurés of Buffalo Bill, (Col. W. F. Cody), who is known all

_ over the world as the king of scouts. —

 

»: No, 363.

Price Five Cents,

 

BUFFALO B

NEW YORK, April 25, 1908.

ILLS QUEST;

OR,

_ The Hidden City of the Hatchet-boys.

~\

 

By the author of “BUFFALO BILL.”

 

CHAPTER f.
GRUESOME WORK. —
“Begorry, Hadj, it’s th’ divil’s own chase ye’re l’adin’
» “Would you rather be in the guard- house at the post

than taking this chase with me, O’Farrel sahib?”

“Sorry a bit. Anny place is betther than th’ guard-
house f’r Dennis O’Farrel. Yez area smooth b’y f’r a
Hindoo; but why are we comin’ this way? An’, by th’

| .. same token, why am I l’adin’ an’ exthry horse?”

“You'll know very soon, sahib,’ and, with that, silence
fell between the two, silence broken only by the clat-
tering fall of their horses’ hoofs. :

They were a strange pair. One, a bareheaded, shock-

haired Irishman, big and raw-boned, wearing a mussy -

uniform of a private in the United States Army ; the other
a black-turbaned Hindoo, whose chocolate-colored face

melted in the night and left only two eyes that were like
moving points of flame.

Under. the star-beams they rode, pressing their horses
fiercely, 0’ Farrel leading a mount with an empty saddle,

     
   

cops ta aap tennant

It was well that these two made their best speed. They

had but recently escaped from the guard-house at Fort
Apache.
had spent most of his enlisted term in the guard-house.
During the previous night Hadj Mahal, the Hindoo, was
incarcerated with him. In the early morning they had
made their escape, Mahal hypnotizing the soldier who
had brought their breakfast, taking the soldier’s keys,
and releasing not only himself, but O’Farrel.

During the day they had kept closely to the hills, raid-
ing a ranch toward evening and securing their three
horses. Now they were pushing northward through a
gloomy defile, hurrying—O’Farrel knew not whither,
and for a purpose—O’Farrel knew not what.

The Irishman had a “creepy” feeling. The Hindoo
was a-man of weird powers, and the superstition O’Far-
rel had brought from the “ould sod” made goose-flesh of
the O’Farrel skin whenever his stirrup brushed Mahal’s.
O’Farrel was glad to escape from the guard-house, but
he would rather have made his getaway with a man of
his own’color. A Hindoo who could look a soldier off
his feet, and a cowboy out of his saddle, was a man to
be taken seriously.

As they galloped, the long, wavering yell of a coyote

ss asa dicts SSRN rb: SSR SRNR Se OSE

O’Farrel, insubordinate, drunk, and disorderly,’

 

 

 
2 THe BUFFALO

went up from somewhere in the hills.
suddenly as it arose.

After a few minutes’ interval, the sound was heard
- again. Then, presently, it broke forth for the third
time.

“Now, by all th’ saints,’
hear thot, Mahal?”

“T heard it, sahib,” was the quiet response, ‘‘Coyotes.’’

“The ©’Farrel banshee, more like, Wheniver an
O’Farrel hears th’ family banshee three toimes, thin, sure
as fate, an O’Farrel dies. Och, wurra, it’s a fearsome
look th’ future has f’r this son av Erin.”

“Fool!” retorted the Hindoo, with a cackling laugh.
“There'd be no people in Arizona if one died every time
he heard a coyote howl thrice. Be sensible!”

It died out as

_

2

whooped O’Farrel, “did yez

O’Farrel drew his sleeve across his dripping fore-

head.
“Put a soord or a gun in me hands, begorry,” said
he, “and [ll face th’ faind himsilf, but just now, Hadj,
we haven't so much as a toothpick beghune us. D’ye
moind thot? How much farther are we goin’ ?”

“We go no farther, sahib,” answered the Hindoo,
checking his horse beside an adobe hut. “Hitch the
horses.”

Hadj Mahal dismounted and ran into the dark hut,

When he returned he had two shovels.

O’Farrel had hitched the horses, and now met him
at the door. The Hindoo gave him one of the shovels.
“Follow,” he ordered curtly, and went on up the defile.

With a thumping heart O’Farrel kept after him. They
rounded a point of rocks and emerged upon a sandy
flat. At their feet lay a long mound.

“Dig!” commanded the Hindoo, suiting his own ac-
tion to the word. ce

“Divil a bit!’ yelled ©’Farrel.
an ut’s no ghoul I am.”

He flung down his shovel. The Hindoo stepped
slowly toward him and gazed blazingly into his eyes.

“Dig, sahib!” he commanded again, in a purring
tone. i

O'Farrel’s hostility vanished. “As one in a trance he
stooped, regained the shovel, and used it industriously
and without a word.

For many minutes the sand flew, and finally the shov-
el-blades hit a box that gave forth a hollow sound.

The Hindoo ordered O’Farrel out of the pit; then,
flinging his shovel after him, he knelt on the top of the
box and began working with his hands. ©’Farrel, sha-

“Faith, ut’s a grave,

king like a man with a chill, heard a trending of pine.

boards, and piece after piece of the box-cover was hurled
from the pit.

Finally came the panting tones of the Hindoo:

“O’Farrel, sahib, take this man!’

A form, ghastly limp, was lifted head and shoulders out
of the hole. ©’Farrel gasped; he wanted to demur
against such sacrilege, but his tongue clove to the roof
of his mouth; he wanted to run, but his knees knocked
against each other and he was held to the spot by the
Hindoo’s compelling power. He crossed himself, then
bent down and thrust his hands under the armpits of the
swaying form. Another moment and the form was lying
at the edge of the hole.

“Who, in th’ faind’s name, is ut, Mahal 2” queried
O’Farrel, recovering his voice.

“Dirk Darrel, sahib,” answered the Hindoo, climbing
out of the hole and kneeling by Darrel’s head,

BIE STORIES,

“Tow long is ut since he was put away?”
man’s voice trembled.

“Tt will soon be two days, sahib.’” The Hindoo was
staring into the white, uaconscious face of the form,
staring and making passes with his hands. :

“What yez thryin’ to do?” gulped O’Farrel, again
drawing his sleeve across his wet forehead,

“Revive him, sahib.”’

"Isn't ut dead he is, at al

“T know the trick, sahib,” answered the Hindoo, “every
adept in India knows the trick. Swallow the tongue,
and produce hypnosis; then we have sleep, a sleep that
counterfeits that last sleep so perfectly, no one can tell
the difference.”

“Faith, man, but Darrel has been under th’ sand
f'r two days!’ ‘

“Even so, sahib, it has not hurt him. Watch!”

©’Farrel watched, his eyes as big as dinner-plates, his
limbs tense, every nerve taut as a bowstring.

“Darrel, sahib,’ crooned Hadj Mahal, still continuing
his passes, and still bending his glittering glance on the
unconscious face. “Awake! Awake, I command you,
sahib !”’

Slowly the form became endued with life. The hands
and feet moved; then, of a sudden, Darrel sat up,

-O’Farrel gave vent to a frantic yell, and plunged off
toward the horses.

“Come back!” screeched the Hindoo, “come back, I
say |”

He followed this with some gibberish in his own
tongue, and the Irishman slowed his gait, turned, and
came stumblingly back to the pit. There he continued
to stand, shaking like a man with the ague.

“Is that you, Mahal?” inquired Darrel.

“Yes. How do you feel, sahib?”

“Just as though I was waking from a dream.
Buffalo Bill come to take me?”

vy 6. sanib.t

“And this trick of yours fooled him?”

“Tle was completely fooled, sahib.”

“How long have I been in that hole?”

“Almost two days, sahib.”

“Tt hardly seems possible!
against big odds, Mahal!’

“Tt is not a difficult trick, sahib.”

“Well, it is something to fool the king of scoitts,”
laughed Dirk Darrel. “Where is Buffalo Bill and No-
mad now?”

“They have gone to Nugget Notch.”

“Ab! I shall not leave Buffalo Bill’s trail,
until I have settled my account with him.”

“] thought you would not, sahib.”

“Who is that man, there?” asked Darrel, indicating
©’Farrel, with a nod. A,

“He is a soldier from the guard-house at Fort Apache,
sahib. I, myself, was confined there. When T escaped
I brought O’Farrel. He will be of help to us.”

“how?

Darrel got up, stepped to O’Farrel, and stared into
his face.

“The sailor, sahib,” said the Hindoo, “is on his way
to the Notch—he is there now.”

“How do you know ?”
Darrel.

“While O’Farrel and I lay low in the hills I saw the

The Irish-

ye” j

Did

You have won out for me

Mahal,

came the startled response of

 
 

 

tHe BUPPALO

sailor pass. He was riding a mule, sahib, and he was
headed toward the Notch.”

Darrel bowed his head thoughtfully. .

“The sailor will reach the Notch while Buffalo Bill
and Nick Nomad are there, 1 suppose,’ he murmured
presently. ce es

“Without doubt.”

“Then the two pards will continue to help the Okays.’

“Vou have said it, sahib.”

“There is a chance for us to * Darrel: broke off.
“Are you sure O’Farrel can be depended on, Mahal?”

“He is an escaped prisoner, sahib. He dare not be-
tfay us.

“Glory be,” spoke up O’Farrel, rapidly getting the
upper hand of his fears, “what have I t’ gain by goin’
back on yez? Thry me, thot’s all. IT show yez, be-
_ gorry, thot I’m t’ be depinded on.”

“Tl give you the chance, O’Farrel,” said Darrel dryly.
“Serve me well and I’ll make you rich. Prove treacher-
ous, and you'll never live to profit by it. Pm hungry,”
he added, turning to: the Hindoo; “let’s go to the cabin.
Have you horses, Mahal?”

“Ves, sahib. O’Farrel and I have one each, and we
broyght another for you.”

“Good !” oe

All three then left the pit and walked through the
darkness in the direction of the hut.

9

CoAPiEk 11.
THE SAILORMAN.

“Git ap, you contrary-minded, long-eared swab!
What’s run afoul o’ ye now? Anchor’s atrip and all
sail set, but here’s you—stuck like a -scow in a mud-
hole. If I had a belaying-pin, dash me if I wouldn't
welt the jolly tar out 0’ yer hide. Git ap, I tell ye!”

A man whose chief articles of wear were a blue shirt
‘and dungaree trousers was astride a mule. The mule
was headed toward Nugget Notch, but he was not pro-
ceeding. On the contrary, he had come to a halt and
was standing like a fixture.

The sailorman—for it was quite evident that the mule’s
-rider was of the sea—lashed and larruped and dug in
with his unspurred heels, but all to no purpose. The
’ more he labored, the more determined the mule seemed
to stay in that particular place.

_ Finally the sailorman dismounted and walked all
around the mule, looking the brute over with a critical
eye.

“Vou look to be all taut an’ shipshape,” said the mari-

ner, halting in front of the mule and glaring angrily into

the animal’s eyes; “an’ why don’t ye slant away? You
an’ me have had a main fair v’y’ge, up to this p’int—
full an’ by, with a skipper’s breeze an’. doin’ our ten
knots—an’ all this in spite o’ the fact I haven’t been on
your style o’ craft before since I was a boy. What's
_ crossed your hawse now, hey? Somethin’ wrong with
| the way I handled myself aboard? Don’t wag your ears
at me, you misbemannered son o’ the desert, or I'll take
_arope’s end to you! Stand by, for a bit, an’ I'll tow ye
a couple o” knots along the course.”

Laying hold of the bridle, the sailorman tried to lead

pc ae te OARS aS

BILL STORIES) 3

the mule along the trail. The animal continued ob-
durate, and hung back. The sailorman grabbed the
bridle with both hands and pulled. He might as well
have tried to pull a mountain.

Presently he gave up this line of endeavor, jerked
off his hat, and mopped his face with a red cotton hand-
kerchief.

“You're a nice kind of a ballahou, you are!” said he.
“For a dollar, Max, I’d bash in your dead-lights, cut you
adrift, and hoof it.”

He looked around over the desert.
cactus caught his eye.

“There’s something, now!” he cried, his red face
lighting up. “Oh, I reckon ye’ll move when I git after
ye with one 0’ them?”

Jerking at his knife-lanyard, the mariner quickly
brought out his dirk. His spirits grew lighter as he
walked toward the okatea, and he began to roll out a
hoarse chantey.

A: clump of okatea

“Oh, I once knowed a man as hadn’t got a nose,
And this is how he come to hadn't:
One cold winter night he went an’ got it froze—
By the pain he was well-nigh maddened,
Well-nigh maddened,
By the pain he was well-nigh maddened!”

He continued to sing while he cut-and trimmed one
of the long, lithe okaiea stalks. Having fixed the gad

suitably, he hitched up his trousers, pulled back his
sleeves, moistened his palms, and got behind the mule.
“Now, then, you long-eared swab,” he whooped, “look
out for a dise of the cat!
an’ get it plenty.”
The gad sang through the air and came down with a

Here’s where you get yours,

vicious thwack on the mule’s hind-quarters. Half of
the mule moved—the rear half. Two murderous hoofs
shot outward and upward, one passing on either side of |
the sailorman’s head, just grazing his ears. He dropped

the gad and sprang back with a startled yell.

“Ve’re more kinds o’ bandicoot, crockydile, an’ chain
lightnin’ than I know how to mention!’ he growled.
“Half an inch right or left with them pins o’ yours an’
ye’d had me over the side.” a

Thereupon the mule began to back toward him.

“Stabbord yer helm, there!” he shouted. “Want to
run me down? Or are ye goin’ to move stern-fo’most°
Well, if that’s yer lay, I'll ride t’other end to, an’ we'll
box-haul into the Notch. Splinter me fore an’ aft, but
I’m goin’ to make port with ye somehow.”

Thereupon the sailor made a run and a jump, land-
ing on the mule in a reverse position, his back to the ani-
mal’s head. Catching the animal’s tail, he began tickling
his flanks with the point of his dirk. This hurt, and once
more the afterpart of the mule rose in the air.

Much to his disgust, the sailorman parted from the
brute’s back, ricocheted through the air, and landed
head down in a clump of cholla cactus.

With every move he made to right himself the fish-
hook spines went into his flesh. He was howling blue
murder when a voice, shot through with hearty laugh-
ter, reached his ears.

“Easy, thar, pard! ‘Ye ain’t no pizen pincushion, I
take et, an’ ther less ye thrash eround the fewer cactus-
pins yell git in yer carkis. Spread yer feet apart an’
T’ll do the rest. Now, then!”

The sailor had neither seen nor heard any one ap-

 
 

‘his attention to the refractory mule.

 

BUFFALO

A) | THE

proaching, presumably because he had been giving all
But he was glad his
distress-signals had been heard and answered; so he
kept quiet, spread his feet apart, and waited.

Two strong hands grasped the mariner’s ankles and
took his knees over a pair of broad shoulders.! A mo-
ment later the tar was heaved bodily out of his prickly
bed and deposited on a bare stretch of sand. While he
sat there, his rescuer began jerking the fish-hooks out
of his skin.

This man’s horse stood in the trail, head to head with
the mule. Beside the horse stood another, with an
erect, smiling figure in the saddle.

“You bore down on me just in time, mate,’ said the
mariner. “Who are ye, an’ who’s yer friend with the
snickers ?”

“My friend with the snickers,’ answered the grin-
ning rescuers “goes by ther name o’ Buffler Bill——’”

“Eight bells, an’ all on deck!’ cried the sailorman,
in surprise. “Sink me, but this-is a surprise! Buffalo
Bill, the king of scouts! Why, matey, I’ve heard of him
in every port from the Sound to the Horn! An’ you?’

“Waal, I’m ther ole horn toad thet goes by ther
name o’ Nick Nomad, Buffler’s trapper pard,’’

“Hooray! Your name travels neck an’ neck with Buf-
falo Bill’s. You two know these plains an’ mountains
from truck to keelson, don’t ye?”

“Buffler knows ‘em for’ard, back’ard, an’ sideways. I
know a leetle, but I’m not ‘so blame’ old I kain’t l’arn
more.” \

“Understand horses, mules, an’ such craft?”

OORIE, ‘

“Well, then, matey, I wish ye’d take that long-eared
pirate o’ mine apart an’ see what makes it act so,”

“When we came in sight,’ chortled Nomad, “ye wasn’t
set proper. Yer head was facin’ ther rear,”

“Right-o, mate. When ye row a boat a web-foot al-
lers faces the starn.”

“But a mule ain’t no boat, pardner.”

“No more it ain't. Howsumever, in ridin’ a horse
or a mule, I savvy it’s right to face the way ye’re goin’,
Well, that mule was travelin’ backward, an’ that was
the cause 0 my turnin’, Can’t git him to go for’ard,
although he went well enough up to here.”

“Mules is contrary.”

They 1,7"

“But if yell git onter his hurricane-deck oncet more,
Buffler Bill an’ me’ll drap our ropes over his head an’
snake him erlong ther course ye want ter go.”’

“Obliged to ye, an’ thank ye kindly. Got the cactus
all out ‘o’ me?”

vloreckon.”

“Then all aboard, an’ we'll git under weigh. I’m for
Nugget Notch.”

The mariner climbed on to the back of the mule, and
the scout and trapper let fall a couple of nooses over the
mule’s head. They started, and, after the mule had been
dragged for a few yards and was half-strangled, he gave
up the fight.

“He’s all right now, stranger,” said Buffalo Bill, turn-
ing his horse about and giving the sailor a curious
sizing. “Just cast off our ropes, and I think you'll be
able to travel without any more trouble.” :

The tar cast off the ropes, and while the two pards
recoiled them and dropped them over their saddle-horns,

sy Fh a ob oo Ss a eae re a Nn nn aes ee

ES a 3a eat maceed
peta Sa . Mt si 4 am

 

Bick STORIES.

the mule was urged onward. He struck out meek as
a lamb. ;

“We'll do, now,” cried the sailor. “Thank’ee again.”

“Vou haven't told us your name yet,” said the scout.

“Okay—but I was anythin’ but O. K. this cruise until
you. two hove in sight. Campeachy Okay, Cam for
short, are the colors I sail under. I’m a salt-water duck,
an’ jest ashore from a hooker—a banana-boat, bound for
Galveston.” é‘

“Great Scott!’ exclaimed Buffalo Bill, staring at Nick
Nomad.

“Waugh!” grunted the surprised trapper.

Cam Okay hoisted himself in his stirrups and evinced
some surprise.

“We never crossed each other's hawse afore, did we?’
he demanded. ’

“No,” replied the scout.

‘Heerd tell o’ me? Mebby ye’ve met my brother,
who lives nigh the Notch?”

“That we have!’ declared the scout. “In fact, we’re
just riding to Fort Apache after escorting your broth-
ers daughter, Milly Okay, to Nugget Notch.’

“Shake,” said the sailor, thrusting out a hairy paw.
“This is like meeting old messmates: it is, for a fact.’

“You're the man who sent a long, brown envelope,
wrapped with tape and plastered with seals, to your
brother for safe-keeping, aren’t you?” queried the scout.

The sailor stared.

“Somebody must have blowed ‘the gaff,” he muttered,
“or else I don’t see how ye got next to it.”

“We're friends of your brother’s,’ said the scout.

“Can it be that you are here to take some sort of action
regarding the contents of that long envelope?’
_ “Well, seein’ as how ye know so much, Buffalo Bill
I don’t mind sayin’ that I am. What's more, Phil an’
me aré goin’ to need help, an’ if ye’re a friend o’ his
an’ a friend o’ mine, couldn’t ye put about an’ sail in
comp’ny back to the Notch?”

‘We'll do that,’ said Buffalo Bill, “If Nick and
can help Okay any with that mysterious document, we’re
only too anxious to do so.’

And thus it happened that the scout and the trapper

encountered the sailor and bore him company on the
test of his ride to Nugget Notch.
_Great and important matters sometimes hang on. the
simplest trifle. Had the two pards started an hour
earlier from the Notch, they would have missed Cam
Okay altogether, and probably would have had no part
in the exciting events to come. :

 

 

thes
se
mad

CHAPTER IIL.

THE BIDEN Crew

_ Phil Okay had a’mining-claim some distance from the
Nugget Notch camp, but, for the present, he and his
daughter, Milly, were staying in the town. Their tem-
porary headquarters was the Delmonico Hotel.

Aiter leaving their mounts at the town corral, the
scout, the trapper, and the sailor bore down on the Del-
monico and found the miner and his daughter sitting on
the front veranda.

The surprise of Milly and her father was great on =

 

 
 

a0

kK ao
ain.”
cout,
until

for
luck,
1 for

Nick

need

ther,
ye’re
‘oth-

Jaw.

2

ope,
your
‘Out.

Ted,

 

| “And Milly!”

u And a word in yer ear,
® spliced to your mother, I’d have been the lucky man,”

© ballast below hatches.

 

@ Got it safe?’

| Cam,

   

   
 
  

Tie

BUPFALO

beholding the two pards again so soon after bidding them
good-by and watching them hit the trail in the direction
of Fort Apache. But this surprise was as nothing com-
pared with that they experienced on seeing the, tanned
and weather-beaten sailor.

“Tf it isn’t Cam!” cried the miner, gripping the sail-
or’s hand heartily. ‘How are you, brother ?”’

“Same in all weathers, Phil,’ gouffawed the sailor,
He turned, grabbed the girl in his arms,
and pressed his lips to her cheek; then, holding her
at arm’s length, he gave her a sizing. “As trim a craft,
take my word for it, as ever was launched. Well, well!
I’m proud o’ ye, lass. Ye’re yer mother over ag’in.
Milly; Uf Phil hadn’t> got

He released the girl and dropped into a chair.
“T’m travelin’ light, mates,’ he went on; “nothin’ but
Even my dunnage-bag was left
at Yuma. Where’s that long envelope I sent ye, Phil?
“We've had no end of trouble over that envelope,
” replied the miner.

“But ye didn’t let it git away from yer’ demanded
the sailor, jumping forward in his. chair.

“No, although, if it hadn’t been for Buffalo Bill,

_would have cost me my life.”

“Avast, there! Ye don’t mean that?’

“T do, though.”

“How. did it come about?”

“A gambler named Dirk Darrel, who used to live in
this camp, got wind of that envelope, somehow, and ap-
peared to know that it contained papers of great value.
Anyhow, he made a dead set at it, and if it hadn't

§ been for the scout and the trapper, he'd have got it.”

“Sorry I put ye all ahoo with the thing, Phil. What

| sort of a looking fellow is this same Dirk Darrel?”

“Looks more like a woman than he does like a man.
Slender, handsome, but a perfect fiend for courage and
cunning.” t

“Tf so be a Hindoo travels with the shark, [ll lay
a hundred Mexican dollars I can place him.”

“You're right about the Hindoo, Cam,”
scout.

‘The sailor brought the flat of his hand sharply down
on his knee.

“Sink me! Then it’s Black Jack, as. they called him
in Acapuleo.” The sailor looked worried, “Is he in
these parts ery ener | 2.

“He's over west o’ Wagon Wheel,” spoke up Old N&
mad, “in a box, under. seven feet o° sand.”

“Gone to Davy Jones?” demanded Cam.

“Ef thet’s what ye mean by saym’ he’s cashed
I’m glad ter inform ye ye’re right. Buffler an’ me seen

put in the

_him planted, an’ we kin take our affidavit et was well

done, Eh, Buffler?” |
“Tt was, assented the scout. “Darrel is out of the
Pway.”

“What about the Hindoo?”
“He was taken to the guard-house at Fort Apa-

“Right- -O, an’ I’m feelin’ better.”
“But he escaped from there, and also helped

another

 

 

 

BILL STORIES. , 5

prisoner by the name of O’Farrel to get away. ae
from the post are out looking for the fugitives.”

“Well,” went on the sailor, after a brief aeciee of
thought, “if Black Jack is out o’ the way, I reckon the
Hindoo’s fangs are drawn. But, workin’ together, they
was a hard pair to beat. The Hindoo is a hypnotist, and
can look a man into the Land 0’ Nod afore ye can say
‘Jack Robinson.’ ”

“Where did you meet Darrel?’ queried the miner.

The sailor took a cautious look around.

“From what ye tell me, Phil, I assume that Buffalo
3ill an’ Nomad are in on this deal with us, share an’
share alike, hey?”

“Yes,” returned Milly, ‘they must be!’

“There’s a fortun’ waitin’ in the Hidden City, more’n
enough for all hands, an’ then some. If we can git
there, an’ lay hands on it, we'll be fixed for life.”

“Hidden. City?’ queried the miner.

“Right-o, matey. But if I’m to overhaul this yarn
I got to begin at the ee Get yer “baccy in yer
pipes, then smoke up, lay back, an’ listen. Call me the
Flyi in’ Dutchman, if it ain’t a yarn to make ye gasp. But
it’s true, every ee Of ii

The sailor, as well as the rest of the men, primed a
pipe, laid.a match to it, and Cam Okay cut loose on an
easy bowline.

“Tt’s like this, mates,” said Cam Okay; “the hooker
as I’m the mate of puts into Acapulco, an’ I puts on my
go-ashores an’ looks over the port. Rum place, Aca-
pulco, but that's neither here’r there; what consarns
is the fact that I left the dens of the sailor-crimps about
midnight, makin’ a crosscut through a dark alley to get
to the wharf.

“T gits about half-through the alley when I hears a yell
o’ ‘Murder!’ follered up with a half-choked call fer
help. I never yet turns back on a web-foot in distress,
an’ after I gits my bearin’s I ups helm an’ bears away
to'rd the place where the noise comes from.

“Tt’s at the back of a gin-mill. There’s a lamp over
the door, an’ I sees a web-foot on his back, a slim man
over him, both knees on his chest an’ a dagger in his
hand. The Hindoo is there, an’ he’s holdin’ the web-
foot’s hands, so’st he can’t use ’em. “Well, I was right
in the middle o’ the ruction in a couple o’ shakes. The
man with the dagger T bowls over, an’ I gives the Hin-
doo my bunch o’ fives.- Both the Hindoo an’ the slim
beggar gits away, an’ I picks up the web-foot an’ lugs
him to a place that’s a little more safe.

“T sees right off that he’s got his what-for, two blows
o’ the dagger makin’ holes in his chest. But he’s able
to use his jaw-tackle some afore he’s ready for the
hammock an’ the round-shot at his pins, an’ what he reels
off to me is mighty surprisin’.

“Fe’s jest back from Lower Californy, he tells me,
an’ has cached a bunch o’ gold, amountin’ to somethin’
like a million, in the Hidden City 0’ the Hatchet-boys.
The gold was his by rights. There’d been four mates
with him, but the Hatchet-boys had downed.’em all, an’
Raynor—which is what the unlucky web-foot calls him-
self—was the on’y one to git back to the coast.

“The hardships Raynor went through would make yer
hair. stand, but P’m not tellin’ ye of them now, bein’

*For the thrilling events connected with Dirk Darrel’s “plant-
ing’ and the capture and escape of the Hindoo, Hadj Mahal, see
No. 362 of this: weekly, “Buffalo Bill’s Pick-Up; or, The Secret
of the Hat and the Dagger.”

 

Ly RNa plata UR AG RC, + te bl aad Soe au, eee sl i AR aA USOT TS CS ae

 
JHE BOPEALO BILL STORIES.

anxious to git at the meat o’ his yarn. Finally Raynor
works his way down the coast, an’ comes at last to
Acapulco. “A man named Black Jack has been tipped
off regardin’ Raynor, by a Chink. So Black Jack an’ the
Hindoo lays fer Raynor in the alley that night, bent on
gittin’ a sealed envelope tellin’ how to go to reach the
Hidden City, an’ where to look for the million when ye
git there.

“Before Raynor flickers out, he says I’m to have the
envelope, an’ likewise the treasure, purvidin’ I can reach
the Hidden City an’ git clear 0’ the Hatchet-boys with
it. I hadn’t no time to bother with the treasure then,
but arter turnin’ Raynor’s remains over to the alcalde,
an’ makin’ oath as to how he got his death, I ships the
envelope to Phil by express, with instructions to keep it
safe until he hears from me. I’ve made this short an’
sweet, mates, so’st to git through quick. This is the first
chance I’ve had to take up the business, an’ here I am,
all ready for Lower Californy an’ the Hidden City.

“I found a little sloop, an’ all I want is a small-sized
crew so’st to navigate the sloop along the coast an’ pick
up the landmarks afore we go ashore an’ make for the
stown of the Chinks. Who’s in on the deal, now, after
Yarnin’ the extent o’ it? There’s plenty o’ danger,
a chance for plenty o’ fightin’, an’ a bigger chance that
some of us as goes won't never come back: but, when
all’s said an’ dene, there’s a million waitin’ at the end
0’ the cruise. Who’s signin’ the articles?”

“I am, for one!” cried Milly.

“Avast, there, little ‘un! We'll have to leave you in
a safe harbor till we git back.’

“Tm going, just the same!’ declared Milly, with
spirit.

“So am I, of course,” said the miner; “that goes with-
out saying.”

“How erbout et, Buffler ?” asked Nomad, looking at the
scout.

“This is not a time for us to back down, Nick,” said
the scout. “I want to see that mysterious document
through to the end of the trail.” |

“Waugh! Thet hits me plumb center. ‘We’re with ye,
Cam Okay, shaps, taps, an’ latigoes.”

“Good! Where’s the envelope, Phil?”

“I sent it to Fort Apache, for safe-keeping, Cam.
We'll have to have some one go over there and get it.”

“We can ride that way on our trail to Yuma,” sug-
gested the scout.

“That’s the talk!” said Cam Okay. “When can we up-
anchor an’ point for Yuma? In the mornin’?”-

“That will hit us all right,” said the scout. ~

“And it will give Milly and me time to go to the cabin
after some things we shall need,’’ said the miner.

“Then it’s settled,” said Cam Okay, getting up and
knocking the ashes out of his pipe. ‘ “Now, for some
chow. I haven't hit a mess-table since I left Wagon
Wheel.”

CHAPTER TV.

DOWN THE CCLORADO.

The ride to Yuma, by way of Fort Apache, occupied
two days. For the most part it was a hot, uncom-
fortable ride, but the inconveniences of the trip were

lost sight of in pleasurable excitement concerning what

_lay ahead.

The odd quest was enough to fire the imagination of
the most. matter-of-fact person.

Cam Okay’s story of the unfortunate Raynor aroused
his hearers’ sympathy ; mention of the mysterious Hidden
City aroused a spirit of adventure; and the fact that Dirk
Darrel and the Hindoo had striven with murderous de-
termination to secure Raynor’s envelope, first from Ray-
nor, and then from Phil Okay, were proofs of the value
of the envelope’s contents.

Milly’s father firmly declined to let her form one of
the party that sailed down the Colorado and around
the shore of the Gulf of California to a landing nearest
the Hidden City; but he did allow the girl to accom-
pany the party as far as Yuma.

At Fort Apache the all-important envelope was secured
and given into the hands of Cam Okay; and dt Yuma
two days were spent overhauling the little schooner
Treasure Trove, enlisting the services of three men for
crew, and getting stores aboard.

An Irishman and two Mexicans were taken on for
crew. The Irishman was a_shock-headed individual,
who gave the name of Muldoon. Silva and Garcia were
the names of the Mexicans. The Mexicans had good
references, and had the appearance of men who could
be depended on. Muldoon did not look so reliable, but
he was big and strong, and Cam Okay, the skipper,
thought the fellow would do.

It was early morning when the Treasure Trove slipped
from her moorings and bore off down the broad river.
Milly was not at the wharf when the schooner sailed,
and it was generally supposed that her disappointment
was so keen over being left behind that she did not wish
to see the expedition depart. e

There was a “skipper’s breeze” from the north, and the
little schooner went snoring along with a bone in her
teeth. If the breeze went down with the sun, it would
probably be twenty-four hours before the Treasure Trove
nosed her way into the Gulf.

Old Nomad felt like a stranger in a strange land. His
legs were bowed from long contact with a horse’s sides,
and he found it difficult to keep his balance and mect
the heave of the schooner’s deck. Cam—“Captain Cam,”
as he was now called—could proceed forward, aft, or
*cross-decks without a wobble, but the trapper was bark-
ing his shins or picking himself up half of the time.
And this, be it understood, was while they were de-
scending the comparatively smooth river.

But Nomad was keyed up to a high pitch; and inas-
much as the voyage was to be but a prelude to warm
times ashore, he endured it with all the grace he could
muster.

At nine o’clock in the evening of the first night out,
Captain Cam called his brother, the scout, and the trap-
per into consultation in the after cabin. It was to be 2
secret consultation, and the companion-doors were care-
fully closed.

The schooner was slopping along at a snail’s pace.
Silva, who knew the river as he did his two hands, was
at the wheel. Garcia was on the fo’c’sle, forward, keep-
ing a lookout. It was Muldoon’s watch below. At mid-
night Captain Cam and the Irishman would relieve the
two Mexicans. In that light air the schooner almost
sailed herself through the bright moonlight, the can-
vas flapping lazily and requiring no attention.

 
what
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‘read much better’n | write. I’m
| Buffalo Bill,
‘time we make landfall.
-an’ hand this writin’

THe, BUPPALO

Captain Cam sat at a table under a swinging ship’s
lamp. Buffalo Bill, Nomad, and Phil Okay sat on the
edg¢s of their bunks.

“Now, mates,” said Captain Cam, when they were all
giving him their attention, “T have already a general
idea of the way we're to bear when we reach the Gulf.
Raynor laid that course for me, and it’s along the western
shore. And it won’t take us long to get “where we re
going, providin’ we have a favorable slant o’ wind—
something under a week, | should say. But I want to
tell ye that the main points o’ this envelope”’—and here
he drew: the long envelope out of his pocket—"‘are un-
known to me as they are to you. I’ve brought ye here,
mates, to open the dockyment and give it a reading.
Then we'll all know what's what and be able to act
accordin’.”’

“Good enough,’ approved Buffalo Bill,
other two nodded acquiescence,

Captain Cam cut the tape with his. dirk and ran
the blade; through the end of the envelope. Then

while the

-he drew out and unfolded a sheet that was covered with
‘writing.
‘suddenly got out of his chair and handed the sheet to
' Buffalo Bill.

He squinted at the writing for a moment, and

“an I. don’t
skipper aboard ship,
but you're boss of proceedin’s from the
Take this chair under the light
out to us.”
The scout sat down, and began.

“T don’t sling much of a fist,” said he,

“T,, Benjamin. Raynor, able seaman, and with a mas-

ter’s ticket, which I have never used, am lyin’ half-dead
‘from hardship in the Mexican town of Mulege, on the
‘western coast of the Gulf of California.
_doctor who has me in hand says I may die.

The Mexican
In case he
is right, and I do not live, | am writing up this log,
hoping it. may fall into deserving hands and bring about
the recovery of a treasure which j is now planted near the

Hidden City of the Hatchet-boys,

“Six months ago I landed in ’Frisco from the South

‘Seas, following a long cruise on the trader North Star.

Debbins, a man in my watch on the North Star, had been

‘a prospector. in Lower California, and claimed to have

discovered a big pocket of gold. Owing to a lack of
food and water, and the death of his pardner, who was

'with him, he had to retreat to the coast, and then do
something to earn a grub-stake before he went back to
' dig out the pocket.

Coming to Frisco, he shipped on

the trader, and that is how we came to be thrown to-

) gether,

“It was’ Dobbins’ idea to get three or four able-
bodied men, who were able to stand privation and face
peril, and who could put up some money in a pool for
expenses, to join him and go after the gold in the pocket.

“The proposition made a bull’s-eye hit with me, and
we got three more men in our watch to join us. It was
a desperate country we were going to, and filled with
renegade Mexicans and Indians,

“When we got to ’Frisco we five drew our pay, clubbed
together, and ‘bought and outfit of guns, ammunition,
chow, gold-pans, shovels, and camp- truck, and chartered
a small craft to take us around Cape S. Lucas and
up the western shore of the Gulf. The boat was to
drop us at the Three Bays, and return in six months and
pick us up.

BILL STORIES. 7

"To make a long story short, we carried out our
plans and got the gold, but the hardship was awful.
Two of our party died while we were trying to haul
the gold back to the Three Bays; and then, to crown
our troubles, we were set. upon by a gang of Chinks.
They were armed with old-fashioned pistols and muskets,
but we managed to fight them off. Another of our
party was kil Hed, however, and Dobbins got a bullet
through the arm.

“To get away with the gold, after that, was too much
for us, and we took our shovels and buried it. The
place where it is buried is marked by a white stone, flat
on the desert, betwéen two white pinnacles—a. landmark
easily to be found, as the pinnacles can be seen for a dis-
tance of ten miles.

“After we had buried the gold, we struck out, as we
believed, for the coast; but we had not gone more than
three miles due east before we came to the edge of a
sort of basin, surrounded on every side by high walls.
In the bottom of the basin was a lake. Around the
ae of the lake were trees, and among the trees we

ould see houses, and pagodas, and C hinamen: walking
oe

“Dobbins and I both thought it was a mirage. But we
were both almost crazy from thirst and heat, and we
raced down a foot-path in the side of the wall, and.
rushed through the trees and toward the lake. Shots
were fired at us, and one of them killed Dobbins. I ran
on, flung ‘myself down at the water's edge, and was
drinking, when the Chinamen came up and captured me.
Being too weak to fight, the job’ was easy for the yel-
low boys.

‘After tying me hand and foot, | was carried ta one
of the houses and thrown into a sort of dungeon. Just
how long I lay there I do not know, for my only light
was a candle, and it was impossible to tell night from
day. Living on rice and water, it seemed years to me,
but I afterward found that I could not have been con-
fined more than a month, and perhaps not more than
a week.

“Then, unexpectedly, a priest, who said his name
was Shang Yuang, came to me, unlocked the door of the
dungeon, ‘and led me out-of the building. It was night.
Without a word, Shang Yuang conducted me through
the silent city and up the steep path to the basin’s rim.

“At the top of the path lay a canteen of water and a
bag of provisions. Shang Yuang motioned for me to
take possession of them. Then, “for the first time, he
spoke.

“He told me i name, and that he was a.priest; also
that, with the morning sun, I had been sentenced to death
in the marble chair, by the garrote. A foreign devil
had once saved his life, he went on, and because of that
he was trying to save mine; but I had a desert to cross
before I could reach the coast, and I must make. the
most of the night if I would travel and reach the sea.

‘Then he pointed out the direction I was to take, and

started to descend the path.

“T tried to get him to tell me something about the
Hidden City, but he would not say a word-—just went
silently on down’ the path and left me to strike out across
the desert. How I reached the Three Bays I never
can tell; but I was picked up, as I afterward learned, in
a delirious condition, by a party of Mulege Mexicans,
who were out in a small sailboat hunting ambereris.
When I regained my senses, I was in the house of a

 
yf

cee a ir a i ott

8 THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES.

charitable Mexican in Mulege, and there I am writing
this, scarcely knowing whether I am to live or die.
“Between the white pinnacles, underneath the white

stone, two miles west of the Hidden City, lies a for- “\

tune which may never be mine. If this writing falls
into deserving hands, I shall be glad if another expe-
dition is formed and the gold secured. Should I live, I
will some time get the treasure for myself.

“The Three Bays on the west coast can be easily lo-
cated. I should judge that they are not over two hun-
dred miles from the mouth of the Colorado. High sand-
dunes separate the bays, and on the shore of the middle
one rises a shaft of granite, bearing a white spot of
quartz near its top which reflects the sun like a mirror.
Sail into this bay, land at the foot of the granite shaft,
then cross the desert due west.”

‘All this the scout had read aloud. The writing was
in a shaky hand, but it was legible.

CHAPTER V.

AN’ UNEXPECTED INTERRUPTION.

The amazing narrative was listened to eagerly.

“Ts that all of it, mate?” asked Captain Cam.

“There’s a postscript,” went on Buffalo Bill, and read
as follows:

“Tater: Our chartered boat has just put in at Mulege
on its way north to the Three Bays. The skipper is go-
ing to Acapulco for a cargo, and I shall go there with .

him, although it is necessary for me to be carried aboard.

The doctor says the trip will do me good. If I am well
enough when I reach Acapulco, I shall get some friends
IT have in that port to help me return to the Three Bays.
Meanwhile, this envelope will be bound and sealed—com-
ing unopened into the hands of another in case I am not
able to use the knowledge it contains for myself.”

The scout paused, folded up the paper, and handed it
back to Captain Cam.

“Raynor,” said the captain, “knew how to handle the
King’s English. But, then, that was to be expected.
He had a master’s ticket, even though he never used it.”

“His directions for finding the gold are explicit
enough,” observed Buffalo Bill. “All we have to do is
to anchor in the middle bay of the three, land at the
granite pillar, and hike across the desert.”

“T have planned to leave Silva, Garcia, and Muldoon
with the schooner,” said Captain Cam. “They are to
take care of the boat and wait for us to come back.”

“But this hyar Hidden City,” muttered Nomad. “Et
don’t sound reasonable, now, does et? Ther idee of er
town like thet, a Chink town, too, stowed erway in a
sand-pocket !’’

‘Why should Raynor deceive us?” queried Phil Okay.

“He wouldn't,” averred Captain Cam. “He was
straight as a string, and I’m bankin’ on it. If [ didn’t
think so, ye don’t suppose I’d have put three years’
savin’s into this schooner, do yer’ :

“T think Raynor has given us the facts, as he knew
them,” said Buffalo Bill, “My regret is that he was not

able to find out more about the Hidden City. From what
he says, though, we can gamble a blue stack that the
town is full of enemies. When we strike out for the
two white pinnacles we shall have to give the Hatchet
boys a wide berth.”

“T reckon, Buffer,” spoke up Nomad, “thet ther lake
in thet basin’ll look mighty good ter us by ther time
we hoof et acrost a few miles 0’ desert.”

“Four of us, Nick, would be no match for a town
full of Chinamen, no matter how good:-the lake may look
I, for one, am not anxious to sit in that “marble chair
from which Raynor so providentially escaped. I don’t
believe any of us could count on Shang Yuang for
help.”

‘What mystifies me most of all,” said Phil Okay
thoughtfully, “is how the Chittamen came to build a
town in that place.” we

“Tower Californy, Phil,’ returned Captain Cam, “is
fuller o’ gold, an’ mystery, an’ dead men’s bones than
that Central American state of Campeachy. I was lost
in Campeachy once, and sink me if I ever want to go
through another experience like that. Since that time
I’ve sailed under the nickname of ‘Campeachy,’ an’ I’ve
had the nickname so long Pve plumb forgot what my
other name is.”

“One name is es good as another,” remarked Nomad,
“exceptin’ ther name o’ Darrel. 1 wouldn't wear thet
on er bets’

He scowled at the thought of the gambler, and of
the trickery and cunning which had caused him, and
Buffalo Bill, and the Okays so much trouble and danger.

“Tucky thing for us, mates,’ vouchsafed Captain Cam,
“that Darrel’s. out o’ this. He’d complicate things, I’m
tellin’ ye, if he was on deck. ‘Black Jack! That was a
good name he had in Acapulco.”

“To come back to the purpose of our expedition,”
went on the miner, “do you think you can trust Silva,
Garcia, and Muldoon to take care of the Treasure
Trove while we’re inland? There’s no telling how long
we'll be gone, and when we do get back, we may want
to get aboard the schooner in a hurry. If the boat hap-
pened to. be cruising somewhere, Cam, or if she had
sailed off and left us in the lurch, we’d be in a fine row
of stumps.”

“Purtic’larly,” added Nomad, “ef thar happened tet
be er raft er pig-tail heathens chasin’ us. When we
oncet git holt o’ ther gold, I’ll never let go, not ef thar’s
er million Chinks hikin’ arter us with percussion-cap pis-
tols an’ flintlocks.” oo

“Tl lay my share 0’ the treasure,” said Captain Cam
confidently, “that we can depend on Silva and Garcia.”

I ain’t never banked none on Greasers, cap’n,” said
Nomad, “but I will say thet the two ye picked up in
Yuma appears ter be more reliable than any I’ve evet
met up with. But Muldoon > Nomad finished with
a dubious shake of the head.

“Tm not greatly taken with Muldoon myself,” ad
mitted the scout. “However, Silva and Garcia ought
to be able to take care of him.”

“That’s the way I overhaul it, Buffalo Bill,” said
Captain Cam. “Anyhow, if Muldoon is at all crooked,
it’s better to leave him on board, as one of the anchor-
watch, than to take him with us across the desert.”

‘That’s true,” agreed Phil Okay. “Before we leave;
Cam, you might give Silva and Garcia a tip to keep 4 |
weather-eye on the Irishman.” :

 
That
the
the

het-

lake

ime

own

want
hap-
had

TOW

said §
oked, §
chot- §

trie BURP ALO

hal wall that,” answered the skipper. ‘“‘We’ve got a

| hard row to hoe, and we've got to do everything pos-

Dy9D

sible to make easy sailin’.
“T’ll begin to take more stock in Raynor, an’ ther Hid-
den City, an’ ther gold,” put in Nomad, “when I clap
-eyes onter thet lookin’-glass rock, an’ we sail inter ther
middle bay.”
“We'll find the looking-glass rock, all right,
' mad,’ answered Captain Cam, “and we don’t make a
' landing till we do find it. If it isn’t over a couple of
hundred miles from the mouth of the Colorado, with
any sort of a wind it won't take us long to get there.
Silva knows the river_and Garcia has sailed clear around
the Gulf coast, so i
Just at this point there came an ee tenie as sud-
den as it was startling.

The report was followed by a wild yell, a scurry of
feet, and a splash, as though some one had tumbled into

“Thunder | ! cried Okay. * “Is there trouble between
the Greasers and Muldoon already ! a

: While the miner was putting this question, the scout
was climbing up the companionway. Sliding back the
companion- doors, he leaped out in front of Silva.

The Mexican, holding the wheel with one hand, was
raning his neck to look around thecorner of the
abin.

Captain Cam, Phil Okay, and Nomad trailed hurriedly
up after the scout.

“What was that, Silva?’ demanded Buffalo Bill.

“No sabe, sefior,” answered the Mexican. “I hear re-
volver-shot, then a yell, then a splash alongside. No
sabe why.”

The four Americans thereupon rushed around the
cabin, some into the lee and some into the weather
alley.

The scout and the miner, in the moonlight, came face
o face with what, for a moment, they took for an ap-

parition in the moonlight,

The figure of a woman was standing i in front of them,
holding a revolver. She was close to the boat’s side
and looking over the rail into the water. As Buffalo
Bill and Phil Okay approached, she turned around.

; “Milly!” gasped Okay, rubbing lis eyes: Can i be
possible that———”

“I’m here, dad,” the girl answered hurriedly,
fhere’s no. time to tell you of that now. J-——”

“Did you fire that shot, Milly?’ queried the scout,
nothering his curiosity regarding the girl's: presence,
r the time.

, she answered.

“Who did you fire at?”
| “At Muldoon. There’s a hole in the cabin skylight,

and he was listening to your talk.”

“Confound the scoundrel!’ cried Okay.

Captain Cam and Nomad, hearing the scout and the

inert talking with some one, had come around the cabin

d joined them.

“Where did-he go?’ demanded the skipper.
“Overboard,” answered Milly calmly.

“Did ye hit him, girl?”

“but

No-.

BILL STORIES... | : 9

é

“put if I did hit him, I

“T don’t know,” she shivered;
only wounded him.”

Captain Cam made haste, with the help of Garcia, who
had run aft, and the rest, to bring the schooner about.
A dory hung at the stern, and this was hurriedly dropped
into the water. With Garcia at the oars, Buffalo Bill and
Captain Cam pushed off and went on a hunt for the
treacherous Irishman.

CHAPTER VI.
MILLY, THE STOWAWAY.

“Keelhaul me,’ growled Captain Cam, as they rowed
about through the moonlight, “but I’m glad we got a
line on Muldoon at this stage in the game.”

“He heard all that took place in the cabin, that is
evident,” returned the scout.

“Much good that’s done him, Buffalo Bill. Ten to
one he’s carried the information to Davy Jones. We’re
short a hand, but we’re ahead a whole lot of satisfac-
tion.”’

“There’s something in that, too returned the scout.
“We'll not have the shock-headed swab to worry
about. On this cruise of ours we're goin’ to have
enough to worry us without botherin’ with any o’ the

crew.”

With the scout in the bow of the dory, keeping a
sharp lookout, and with the skipper doing the same in
the stern-sheets, a fruitless half-hour was passed rowing
about the river. .

vie might as well pull back to the schooner, Buffalo
Bill,” said Captam Cam finally, “Its clear to me. the
Irishman has got his come-up-with,”

“Tf he was a good swimmer, captain,’
scout,
ashore,
over.’

Vi Taye fetal of money that Milly winged him.
If she did, then he couldn’t swim.’

“Between the two of us, I don’t think he’d have taken
to the water if he wasn’t in a condition to swim. If
we had captured him on the schooner, knowing he'd
been. eavesdropping, the most we could have done with
him would have been to hold him a prisoner below-
decks. Rather than run the risk of drowning, he’d have
given up to us.”

“He’s gut of it, Buffalo Bill, and you can chalk that
down in Fie letters.”

The scout thought this rather doubtful, but inasmuch
as further looking was useless, made no demur to put-
ting back to the schooner.

After they had embarked, slung the boat up at the
stern, and got the Treasure Trove to slopping along
down-stream again, the deck was once more left with
the two Mexicans, while the Americans went into the
cabin.

“What do you think of Milly?’ queried Phil Okay,
with a troubled face. “She was a stowaway.”

Buffalo Bill laughed, Captain Cam looked serious, and
Old Nomad leaned forward and patted the girl on the
arm.

“Milly,” he grinned, “ye’re ther clear quill. Thar was
a gal Buffler an’ me knowed once thet had erbout an

answered the
“it wouldn’t have been difficult for him to get
The bank is fairly close to where he went

eo

 
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10 THE BUPFALO

ekal mount 0’ speerit, but. she was Mexican. But,
whether ye come aboard as er stowaway er not, I reckon
ye’ve airned yer right ter go with us.”

“Generally she has her way,’ said her father.

“And generally, too,” laughed Milly, “my way is tne
best one, isn’t it, dad?”

“T hate to think of making you face the danger we're
going to encounter.”

“Tt ain't no place for such a purty bundle o’ muslin,
you can lay to that,” struck in Captain Cath stoutly,
“but now that she’s here, well. make the best of it.

. Mayhap Milly’s the kind that’ll prove a help rather than

a hindrance.”
“You'll find that I am, captain,’ said Milly.

“When did you make up your mind you’d come aboard.

in spite of orders to stay ashore?”
“Last night. There’s a hatch in the galley floor—I

-loeated it while you: were stowing away provisions—and

I resolved to get down that hatch and go with the
Treasure Trove whether you wanted me to or not. I
was here at five this morning. One of the Mexicans was
curled up in the bow, fast asleep, and I didn’t have any
trouble at all getting into the galley and under the deck.
I brought some food and water with me, and though
it was awfully dark and lonesome down there, I got
along pretty well. You see, dad,” she added whim-
sically, “I knew you hadn’t shipped a cook for this
voyage, and, really, I don’t see how you ever thought
you could get along without me.”

“I been hashin’ up the provender,” said Nomad, “an’
I’m plumb glad, Milly, I got er chance ter resign.”

“How did ye happen to git next to Muldoon’s eaves-
dropping, Milly?” inquired the skipper.

“Well, I thought you were far enough from Yuma
so I could show myself without fear of getting sent
back,” Milly replied, “so I lifted the hatch-cover and

climbed up into the galley. The ship was dark when I

looked out, but the moonlight was a whole lot brighter
than the hold had been, and I could see pretty plain.

“There was a light shining from the cabin, and I
couldn’t see a soul on deck. I started back toward the
cabin, and just as I climbed the steps to go toward the
wheel, | saw a man bending over the skylight. His ear
was laid against the skylight, and he had his back to
me. Nevertheless, I could make out that it was Mul-
doon, for he is larger every way than the Mexicans.

“He must have heard me, for he started up and whirled
around. I was almost scared to death for a second,
Muldoon seemed so furious at having been caught. He
started toward me, and | jumped backward down the
steps. But he still kept coming on, and then # pulled
that revolver from the bosom of my dress—the revolver
you gave me, Buffalo Bill—and leveled it. That didn’t
seem to make any difference with Muldoon, though, and
so I pulled trigger. He gave a yell, sprang to the side,
and threw himself into the river.

“IT was afraid I had hurt him, and that he would
drown, so I hurried up the steps and tried to see some-
thing of him in the water, but I couldn’t. While I was
looking, the rest of you came.”

A silence followed the girl’s words.
first to break it.

“Milly has done a good bit of work,” said the scout,
“and I, for one, am glad she stowed herself away, like
she did. If she hadn’t, Muldoon would never have been
caught at his prying tactics. There’s no telling what

Buffalo Bill was

‘

i I Ne NN A NS al NS

BILL STORIES.

harm the Irishman would have done if he had learned all
we know and then. watched a favorable opportunity to
desert with the information.”

“What ailed ther pizen whelp?”’ asked Nomad. ‘“D’ye
reckon he smelled a mouse afore we left Yuma, an’ thet
he shipped with ther idee o’ gittin’ next ter our busi-
ness f°” wet

“It’s hard to tell about that,” said Phil Okay. “What-
ever his purpose was, it has cost him his life and come
to nothing.”

“T hate to think, dad,” said Milly, “that I might have
had something to do with his losing his life.”

“Stow the sentiment, lass,” admonished Captain Cam;
“it’s worse nor foolish. Chances are ye didn’t have a
thing to do with sendin’ Muldoon to the bottom. Even
if ye did, ye can think as how mayhap ye. saved the
lives of some of the rest of us by doin® it?’

“Since Milly’s got to go with us,’ said her father,
“I'd like to know where we're going to put her, and what
we're going to do with her when we go ashore. I don’t
want to leave her on the boat.” i

“We'll have to take her with us,” said Buffalo Bill.

-“On a tramp across the desert, facing the dangers
ofthe Chinamen in the Hidden City, and———’

“Dad,” interposed Milly, “I can cross as much desert
in a day as any one of you, and if you have a skirmish
with Chinamen you may be glad that ’'m along to help
you. Anyhow, [ll never shirk or show the white
feather.”

“Ye kin spread yore blankets an’ go ter sleep on
thet,” cried the old trapper. “Pve seen Milly in some
purty tight corners, an’ I’m tellin’ ye [’'d never want a
better gal pard than what she is.” »

“That’s settled, then,” said Captain Cam, “Milly goes
with us. Buffalo Bill has charge of the land part o’ this
deal, an’ if he wants Milly to come along, enough said.”

“But where are we going to-keep her on the boat,
Cam?” queried the miner.

“THe quarters are cramped, that’s a fact,’ replied the
skipper, “but us men can sleep on deck an’ Milly can have
the run o’ the cabin. If some o’ ye wants a stuffy hole
an. a bunk, there’s four berths in the fo’c’sle, an’ the
Mexicans can’t occupy more’n two at a time.”

“Ther deck’s good enough fer me,” said Nomad.

“1 don’t want to take your sleeping-quarters away from
any of you,” spoke up Milly.

“Nick and I,” said the scout, “would ten times over
rather sleep in the open than in a house. There’s some-
thing else for us to think of, though. We're a man
short. The captain will have to have some one with
him when he takes charge of the boat and sends the
Mexicans below. I beg to offer myself for the job
captain,” he finished, turning to the skipper.
"Youre the chap Vd pick out, Buffalo Bill,’ answered
Captain Cam. “It won’t be long, now, before we take
the deck, and then the rest of you can pick out the softest
boards you can find and catch your forty winks. If the
fo‘e’sle. wasn’t so hot an’ stuffy——”

The companion-doors had been left open, and, at that
precise moment, Garcia thrust his head through and
bawled down:

Capitan: On deck—pronto!”

What ther blazes is ther ruction now ?” growled the
old trapper, as he flocked after Captain Cam in the di-
rection of the deck. “Ef things keep goin’ like this thar
won't be no sleep fer any one ter-night.” ee

,

 
Jee BUREALO -Biini. STORIES.

“What's to pay, Garcia?” asked Captain Cam.
The fore-and-ait sail blanketed the view from that
part of the schooner, and Garcia led the way to the
taffrail.

“Look!” said he, with a gesture to the north and east;
“watch, capitano.”

Perhaps a minute passed, and then, far away in the
distance, a streak of light leaped high in the air, curved
gracefully, released four red balls of fire, and the whole
luminous display melted into the night as suddenly as it
had appeared.

“Now, splinter me,” muttered Captain Cam, “what do
all those fireworks mean?”

CHAPTER VII.
THE GLITTERING SHAFT.

The display was twice repeated, at minute intervals,
then ceased entirely. Although those at the schooner’s
taffrail watched until their eyes ached, no more of the
fiery columns arose in the air.

“Thet’s ther last of et,’ said Nomad. ‘This hyar ain’t
ther Fourth o’ July, I reckon, an’ we're in Greaserdom,
now, an’ they wouldn’t. be celebratin’, anyways.”

“How many did you see, Garcia?’ queried Captain
Cam.

Oe

“They’re rocket signals, all right, captain,”
Bill; “there’s no sort of doubt about that.”

“But who’s firin’ °em, an’ why?” demanded the skip-
per.

“They might have come from the river-bank,” sug-
gested the scout, “perhaps at about the place where
Muldoon may have landed.”

“Muldoon?” echoed the skipper,
miner, and Milly.

“I say, Buffalo Bill,” pursued the skipper, “you don’t
think for one bally minute that Muldoon got ashore an’
set off those rockets?”

Vitis possible, captain,” answered the scout quietly.
“I don’t say it’s probable, mind yout), only possible.”

“Tl be scuttled if I see how it’s’ even possible. If
Muldoon swam ashore loaded with rockets, an’ with
matches to touch ’em off, he must have soaked ’em be-
fore he made a landing.”

“Unless he had them ina waterproof case.’

“If ye go to splittin’ hairs about it, why auould he
have rockets at all LC

“All we can do,” said the scout, “is to guess. One
of my guesses is that Muldoon came aboard this schooner
with a well-defined idea that we were off on a treasure
trip; that there are others in the scheme with him;
that he has found out all we know; that he has rockets
and matches with him in a watertight case; that when he
found himself discovered, he ducked over the side and
swam ashore; and that what we have just seen are

ignals which he is sending up for the rest of the gang.
But all this is merely a guess, as [I said.

® ‘It opens up a field ‘of terrific possibilities, Buffalo
mBill,’ said Phil Okay.

“Tt knocks me all of a heap, sink me if it don’t,”
ered Captain Cam.

replied Garcia, sticking up two fingers.
said Buffalo

the trapper, the

mut-

sO we 1] get there first.

“Then there’s another guess,” went on the scout.
“We're not a great distance from the international
boundary, and those rockets may be signals sent up by
boundary riders who, perhaps, are on the trail of a
smuggler.’

“There ye have it, mate,” said Captain Cam, heaving
a long breath of relief. » That second guess is the most
likely, an’ it’s the one I tie to.”

“But,” put in Milly, “suppose Buffalo Bill’s first guess
was the right one?”

“I’m kinder feanin’ to’rd thet fust guess,
said Nomad.

“In that case,’ said the scout, “all we can do is to
get to where we're going in short order,:do our work,
and bear away. If there are others on the track of the
treasure, we've got to get in ahead of them.”

“Right-o,” said the skipper. ‘In order to be on the
safe side, an’ have everything shipshape an’ Bristol
fashion, we’ll assume there’s others after Raynor’s gold,

. We'll whistle up a wind in
the mornin’, an’ strike out down the coast to’rd that
lookin’-glass rock.”

“It might pay us,” volunteered Phil Okay, “to anchor
the schooner and send a boat’s crew ashore to look into
this rocket business.”

“Can’t spare the time, Phil,” said the skipper. “I’m-
goin’ back to the wheel now, an’ if yell go for’ard, Buf-
falo Bill, we’ll send the Greasers below. Milly, my girl,
the after cabin’s yours. Nomad an’ Phil can bring up
mattresses an’ bunk down wherever they want to.”

The party at once separated. Buffalo Bill went for-
ward to where the jibs were slatting idly, what little
wind there: was being shut off from them by the larger
sails behind.

There was a boat, upturned and lashed on top of the
forward house. Sitting flat down, Buffalo Bill leaned
against the boat, filled and lighted his pipe, and watched
the widening stretch of the river.

He laid greater stress upon the treachery of Muldoon
and the flight of those rockets than he cared to show.
At times the king of scouts was gifted with a marvel-
ous intuition, and in the present instance he was deeply
impressed with the idea that something of a momentous
nature had gone wrong.

However, there was nothing that either he or his com-
panions could do about it other than to reach their des-_
tination with all speed, secure the buried treasure, and
get away with it.

The night passed without incident, and sunrise found
the schooner with a wholes’l breeze over the quarter,
tripping down the Gulf shore-line like a girl going to
market: The Treasure Trove was a swift little boat,
and all hands were. more than satisfied with her per-
formance.

Milly turned out early and got breakfast. The “after-,
guard” ate in the cabin, and the Mexicans at the galley-
door.

When the meal was over, Captain Cam gave up the
wheel to Garcia and went down to overhaul the chart
with which he had provided himself. Coming back, he
discussed the lay of the coast with the helmsman, §set-
tled the course, and then went back to the cabin and
turned in. Buffalo Bill was already asleep.

Nomad, Phil Okay, and Milly were on deck with the
Mexicans, the two former assisting Garcia with the sails.

myself,”

 
oases

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Beate eS

a THE BUFFALO

va

 

Every stitch of canvas was set, and the schooner heeled
over and ducked her jibs again and again.

The old trapper was a poor sailor, and had to hang
onto something every minute to keep on his feet. In
spite of this, he was able to bear a hand with a rope, now
and then, and he was continually congratulating himself
that he did not get seasick. When not otherwise en-
gaged, he was braced against the small boat on the for-
ward house, constantly examining the shore-line through
a glass. A sharp lookout was also kept behind for any
trace of another boat.

At noon the seout and the skipper relieved the Mexi-
cans. Nothing occured to break the monotony. Not a
sail was sighted, and the shore-line presented merely a
flat vista of low land. There was not so much as a

_ spear of vegetation to relieve the eye.

Nomad was put in Captain Cam’s “watch” alone with
Buffalo Bill, while Phil Okay was told off to help the
Mexicans... All hands, however, with nerves tense as
forestays over the possibility of rivals in the field, re-

mained on deck during the afternoon.

The breeze freshened so that reefs had to be taken
in the sails, yet still the Treasure Trove drove onward
with the speed of an ocean greyhound. Captain Cam was
delighted. As he braced himself at the kicking wheel,
taking many a look at the schooner’s wake, his hoarse
voice went bounding forward in his favorite ketch:

“Next day it turned black, and the next day blue,
Till it looked like a piece o’ putty;

An’ it ‘hurt him so bad, now I tell you true,
That he could not smoke his cutty!”

It wasn’t much of a song, that of the skipper’s, but it
acted like a barometer for his feelings. If he was a
trifle in doubt, but with clearing weather ahead, that
chantey was bound to come. |

That night the wind lessened, but it did not die out
entirely with the going down of the sun. Afterward it
freshened again, and when the skipper, the scout, and
Nomad turned in, the schooner was all but turning hand-
springs, her gaff-topsails furled.and everything double-
reefed below. Sleeping on the deck was out of the ques-
tion, so the three in the watch below took to the fo’-
ese, .

The schooner was hauled a good bit offshore. Clouds
now and then obscured the moon, and no chances of
bouncing upon a reef inshore were to be taken.

At midnight Captain Cam’s watch took the deck
again, and Nomad had to go around hitched to a rope.
Half a dozen times the rope kept him from going over-
board.

Morning dawned once more, but the favoring wind
had blown itself out. There was hardly a capful of air
stirring, and with all sail set the schooner barely moved.

“Never mind, mates,’ said Captain Cam: “we got
over the biggest part of our course yesterday and last

night, and if [’m right in my reckoning, we’ll raise that

granite pillar with the lookin’-glass long before noon,
even with this apology for a wind.’

Both the ship's glasses were now focused on the shore-
line, The skipper, the scout, and the trapper waived their
privilege of going below, and grouped themselves for-
ward with the rest.

It was about 11 o’clock when Nomad took the glass
from his eye and gave a jubilant yell.

“Thar she blows!’ he whooped, “er whatever ye calls

 

 

 

I reckon, we'll have more fireworks.”

BILL STORIES.

et, skipper. Look, oncet! I’m er Piegan ef I didn’t
ketch the flash o’ thet lookin’-glass.”

Buffalo Bill grabbed the glass and leveled it. The
Treasure Trove was passing the entrance to a wide bay.
At the southern edge of the bay was a sand-dune, but
the boat had an offing which permitted those aboard to
look past the sand-dune headland and into a second
bay. In the middle of the curve described by the shore-
line of this second bay arose a monolith of granite capped
with a sparkling crest. The sun’s rays were caught by
the pillar’s top and reflected dazzlingly.

“That's her, all right, matey,” exulted Captain Cam.
“I weckon ye’re willin’ to take a little stock in Raynor
now, eh, Nomad?” :

“Raynor's a square-head ef thar ever was one,’ an-
swered the trapper.

Captain Cam gave up his glass to Nomad and went
back to lay the course into the middle bay. . There wa:
just wind enough for steerage-way on the shorewarc
tack, and it took until noon to get the schooner to a suit-
able anchorage. Then the sails came down by the run,
and the anchor was dropped. —

While all but the scout and Milly were attending to
this work, these two were not idle. They were ex-
amining the place of their proposed landing through the
glasses.

The granite pillar arose out of a ridge of low dunes.
Suddenly Milly gave an exclamation.

“What is it?” asked the scout.

“Quick, Buffalo Bill,” answered the girl, “look to the
left of the pillar, and see what———. Ah,’” she finished,
disappointedly, “it’s gone. Did you see it?”

“Yes,” said the scout gravely.

“What was it?”

“A blue blouse with a Chinaman inside. He dodged
over the first sand-dune. One of the Hatchet-boys is
watching us. It spells trouble, I reckon.”

  
 
  
   
  
  
  
 
 
    
  
   
 
    
     
    
  
    

 

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taken
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well-:

CHAPTER VIII.

| wher
whol
car
fe for 7
| lose
; will

THE START.

At dinner, Buffalo Bill’s and Milly’s fleeting glimpse
of the Chinaman was discussed.

“He was a sentinel,” hazarded Phil Okay, “posted
there by the High Mucky Muck of the Hidden City.
He'll carry the news to the other Hatchet-boys, and then,

“I don’t keer a whoop how many o’ ther pizen pig-tails
gits between me an’ thet gold,” growled Nomad ag-
gressively. “We'll tromp ’em down. When Buffler an’
me git started anywhare, we're a couple er tornaders.”

“T don’t like the prospect,” said Phil Okay.

“Tl admit, Phil,” said the skipper, “that the outlook
ain’t what I'd like to have it, but there'll be five of us,
counting Milly, all armed with Winchesters and forty
rounds, say nothin’ of the revolvers.”

“It’s Milly that’s bothering me,” murmured Okay, with
an anxious look at his daughter, “If I didn’t think that
enemies might put into this bay and make trouble for the
Treasure Trove, I'd have Milly stay here.”

“Now, dad!” exclaimed Milly coaxingly. “More than
likely you'll need me, off there on the desert, and if I

 
THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES. ets 13

3adn’t known I could take care of myself I’d have stayed
m Yuma,”

“Vou'll have to go with us, my girl,” returned the
miner, “but it’s an added responsibility when we already
have about all we can stagger under.”

“ll show you I can be a help and not a nae:
serted Milly confidently.

(2?

- “Blast that bloomin’ Chink spy!’ growled: Captain
Cam, “but we can’t let one Chink scare us out, eh, mates?
You’re the boss from now on, Buffalo Bill. When had
fwe better start?”

| “As soon as we can get ashore with our traps,” re-
Hsponded the scout. “The gun will make it hot for us
for a while, but a steady march through the night ought
to bring us close to the Hidden City.”

From that on all was bustle and preparation aboard
the schooner. Winchester magazines were replenished,
cartridge-belts stuffed to the limit, revolvers examined,
canteens filled—three for each of the ‘shore-party—and
ration knapsacks made ready.

It was to be a pedestrian trip, and a dash, at that. The
return journey would be infinitely more difficult than the
trip out, for, if expectations were realized, each would be
burdened with a load of gold.

Should there be as much treasure in the cache as Ray-
‘nor had said, it would not be possible to bring it all away

in one round, Two or three trips would have to be
» taken, and the danger of interference from the Hatchet-
"boys would increase with every journey into the desert.

“Not for all the gold that was €ver mined,” said the
Fminer, in an aside to Buffalo Bill,
f harm come to: Milly.”

“Nor I, Okay,” returned the scout, ‘‘but there are four
| well-armed men to look out for her. The fact that she’s
) along will keep us from taking chances which we might
| be tempted to take if we were alone. We'll play as safe
Bas we can.”

The dory made two trips to the shore, taking the ad-
venturers and their wpedimenta. Garcia went out with

| the second load... By that time it was nearly four in the
| afternoon.

“Listen to me, Garcia,’ said Cam Okay impressively,
when the time came to part from the Mexican, “this
whole expedition may hang on the way you and Silva
carry yourselves. You've got to keep your eyes skinned
for trouble from seaward, and from landward. If you

‘lose the schooner, by any manner of means, all of us
will be hung up on a lee shore, fightin’ not only Chinks,
but hunger an’ thirst as well. Do yer duty, you an’
Silva, an’ there’s a thousand pesos in this for each of
you, in addition to the lay you are to get. Sabe?”

Garcia nodded; his eyes gleaming with the thought of

the extra thousand pesos. For him and Silva this ‘would
be'a fortune.
“You've got guns an’ plenty of ammunition aboard,”
went on the skipper, “an’ | think you’ve the nerve to
put up a good fight if matters come to a show-down.
Now, go back to the schooner, an’ don’t fail to have the
boat in this bay when we want her.”

“Vou find us here when you come, sefior,”
Mexican.

With that he ran his boat into the water, sprang aboard,

and fell to with the oars. The landing-party rounded
the base of the granite pinnacle and climbed the’ first
ridge of sand. At the crest of the ridge Buffalo Bill,

ase

averred the

“would I have any:

who was in the lead, halted and pointed to the ground
in front of him.

“Take a squint at that,” said he.

What the rest saw, as they crowded around, was the
print of a wooden shoe in the sand.

“Thet was made by ther rat-eater in ther blue blouse,
all right,” remarked Nomad.

Tey proves that Milly and | were right,” sid the scout,
following the Chinaman’s trail down the opposite slope
of the ridge. “The Chink commenced to run,” he
added, “when he got over the dune.”

“Wisht he tun so fast he got all het up an’ had er
sunstroke,’ muttered the trapper; “then he couldn’t
spread ther news in thet Chink town.”

"No such ‘luck. tor us, mates,” said Cam. Okay.
“Chinks an’ Greasers are like lizards, an’ the hotter the
sun the better they like it.’

One ridge after another was crossed by the party, but
the height ‘of the ridges slowly diminished until they flat-
tened out into a stretch of level desert.

To the westward, as far as the eye could reach, only
a sandy plain could be seen. Not so much as a dried stem
of herbage was anywhere visible.

The scout and the trapper, and even Milly and her
father, were used to such a country. They had traveled
through similar regions, and the two pards had thirsted
and courted death on waterless sands.

But it was different with Cam Okay. He was used to
vast levels, but they were levels of water. A man could
die of thirst and hunger on the sea as well as on the
desert, but the present outlook jarred a little on the
sailor’s fortitude.

“Shiver me,’ he growled, “if
such a country was ever made.
job, mates, more than anything
that Chink’s trail, Buffalo Bil?”

“As long as we can see it, yes,” was the reply, “pro-
viding it keeps due west. That’s our course—due
west.” :

The scout had a pocket-compass, and that was to be
his dependence when the sun went down.

Taking the lead, he set the pace, the rest struggling
along behind.

Carrying canteens, food, guns, and ammunition, as
each of the party was doing, the tramp was no easy mat-
ter. Milly’s load had been surreptitiously fee by
the scout and the trapper, each bearing some of the
weight that had originally been parceled out for her.

The girl had lived almost her whole life in the ota
and the mountains; she was strong, athletic, and used
to hardships. Springily she kept the pace set by the
scout, walking now with her father, and now with her
uncle, and occasionally hurrying ahead to be with the
scout,

“IT suppose, Buffalo Bill,”
swinging along at his side,
for Chinamen at every step 2”

“Not so much now, Milly,” he answered, “as when the
night settles down. As long as the daylight holds a mere
elance around us will suffice. a the evening, how-
ever, every one of us will have to be vigilant.

IT can understand why
I hate this part of our
else. Goin’ to follow

said she, while ane was
“that weve got to watch

Fortu-
nately, in a bare, flat region like this we can't be am-
bushed.”

The start, having been made at the fag-end of the
day, gave the travelers but little of the sun’s heat. As
the day continued to decline, the heat became less and

J
Z

 
LE BUBRBALO

less. But even the night would not bring anything like
coolness, for all through the moonlit hours the desert
would be radiating heat stored up during the day.

As the sun set and evening deepened, every member of.

the party peered about warily. The brightening stars
lifted the veil of darkness appreciably, and when the
moon rose the monotonous flat unrolled itself like a silver
print.

It was nine o’clock when the scout called the first
halt. There followed an hour of rest. By ten all were
up and pushing steadily westward again.

Midnight marked another stop; this time of two hours’
duration, for by then all were feeling the effects of their
tramp. After a cold meal from the knapsacks and a
draft of warm water from the canteen all slept with the
exception of the scout..

At two o’clock Buffalo Bill roused his tired com-
panions, and the journey was continued.

If there were any Chinamen meditating hostile de-
signs against them, they must have beers holding back
and awaiting a more favorable opportunity.

During the night Buffalo Bill hoped to cover the
longest lap of the journey, so he pressed the endurance
of the party to the utmost.

Milly was not the first to give out; on the contrary,
it was her uncle.

“Pve_ still got my sea-legs on,” groaned-Cam Okay,
staggering a moment and then dropping in his tracks.
“If there was a deck under me, I reckon I could keep
on for an hour or two longer, but I ain’t used to this
kind o’ walking.” ~

“Let me help you, uncle,” said Milly, bending over
him.

“T’m blest if I do, Milly,” returned the sailor. “If you
was able to carry me I might go on, but right now I’m
clean ‘beat, an’ that’s’ the hull of it.”

Buffalo Bill struck a match and looked at his watch.

“Four o'clock,” he announced, “and wé must have
covered twelve or fifteen miles. This chain of ours,” he
went on, dropping his watch back in his pocket, “is only
as strong as the weakest link; and Milly’—he laughed
softly as he spoke—“does not happen to be the weakest
link. Here’s where we stop till daylight. Take off your
knapsacks, everybody. Nick will go on watch and the
rest of us may sleep.”

This order was obeyed with all the alacrity the vari-
ous members of the party could muster. Cam Okay was
snoring almost before Milly could unbuckle and remove
his knapsack; the others, barring the trapper, quickly
followed suit.

Nomad, tough as a piece of whalebone, lighted his
pipe and seated himself comfortably in the sand, his rifle
across his knees.

“Mind, Nick,” were the scout’s final words, “rout us
out at the first streak of daylight.”

“Thet’s me, Buffler,”’ answered the trapper. “Git ter
snoozin’ as quick as ye kin. I slept durin’ the last halt,
an’ et’s yore turn now.”

Buffalo Bill was not slow to obey. He slept long—
longer, in fact, than he intended to—and when he awoke
and started up, the sun was in his eyes.

What could this mean? He had told Nomad to call
him at the first glimmer of daylight.

Flis eyes roved around. The two Okays and Milly
lay near at hand and still soundly sleeping, but the old
trapper was nowhere to be seen.

 

 

“Cam Okay.

Billie SLORIES:

Alarmed on the instant, Buffalo Bill sprang up and
swept his eyes in a circle across the desert. The trapper
was nowhere in evidence in that direction.

For Nomad to leave, if he had left of his own accord,
was a serious breach of discipline; so serious that the
scout knew his pard could not have committed it. Yet
where had he gone? And what could have taken him
away?

As the scout stepped toward the place where he had
last seen Nomad, his intention being to examine the sur-
face of the ground, he made another discovery. ,

His three canteens were gone! o

Guns, revolvers, ammunitidn, and food were all as
they had been left the night before, but the three water
receptacles had disappeared.

The scout looked for the canteens belonging to the two
brothers, and then for those belonging to Milly.

They, likewise, had vanished.

Grimly the scout awoke his companions and com-
municated the alarming news.

CHAPTER IX.
THE CHINAMEN,

“What!” cried Cam Okay, rubbing his eyes. “Nomad
gone? Water gone? Sink me, Buffalo Bill, this ain’t

atime to joke.”
“Pm not joking,” said the scout.
“What did Nomad go off with the canteens for?”

asked Phil Okay.

“We don’t know that he did go away with the can-
teens,” returned the scout. ‘You all can rest assured
that, however he went, he did not go of his own free
will. | Nomad is not the fellow to abandon his friends
ike that

“Certainly he is not!” declared Milly warmly. “A
braver, more loyal man that Nick Nomad never stepped.
He wouldn’t abandon us.”

“What're we goin’ to do without water?” groaned
“My throat is fairly parched, this min-
ute, an’ yonder is a blazing sun jest comin’ to the part
o’ the sky where it'll be hottest, an’ the fiend himself
doesn’t know how many miles it is from here to that
cache.” : a

“We won't be able to reach the cache without water,
Cam,” said the miner. ie

wan’ we wouldn’t be able to get back to the schooner
without water, either!” cried the sailor. ‘“Here’s a mess,
I must say!” of
. The more they discussed the situation the more alarm-
ing it grew.

“No use overhauling our jaw-tackle any longer,” cried
Cam Okay. “If we’re anywheres near the Hidden City
of the Hatchet Boys we’ve got to go there.”

“Do you think Nomad could have gone out of his head,
Buffalo Bill,” queried Phil Okay, “and have wandered
off into the desert?” ;

“No, that would be impossible,” replied the scout. “It
would take a good deal to turn my old pard’s head, But
we'll begin to look for clues.”

Buffalo Bill walked on to the place where he had last
seen the trapper. | /

 

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39

  

Tie) BOUPPATO

i said; be, = can See: the

m marks of his moccasins, and there are a dozen burnt
fy natches lying in the sand-—proof that he was in thought-
‘ul mood, and that, because of it, his pipe went out sev-
‘ral times and had to be relighted.

“And here,’ the scout continued, walking off to the
a of the camp, his eyes on the ground, “is where

ne struck off alone.”

_ “Then he did leave us of his free will, bey. Buffalo
'3ill?”’ asked the sailor. “If he left alone he must have
nowed what he was doin’.”
“He came only this far,”
‘at down again.’

The scout was not over forty feet from the place
here he and his companions had been sleeping.
“When Nick left here,” the scout pursued, taken up
with the marks left i in the sand, “he was carried, a pris-
oner,.’

“Here’s a bally run o° luck!” growled Cam Okay.
How do ye figger all that, Buffalo Bill?”

“Why,” said “Buffalo Bill, “the ground is all trampled
f ap. Chinamen were here—those are the marks of their
We wooden-soled shoes. When the Chinamen left,” he fin-

| shed, walking a few yards farther along the trail, “four
‘of them were carrying Nick—that’s easily told from
the way their feet went into the sand.’

_ “How many were there of the Chinks, Buffalo Bill?”

nguired the miner.
LOS he
Desert signs were like a printed page to the king of
scouts.
_ “How was it possible for them to capture Nomad with-
@ out making a noise that would awaken the rest of us?”
“Give it up. All we know is that it was done.”
| “An’ why,” put in Cam Okay in a despairing tone,
“should. the Hatchet-boys make, off with the canteens?
1) Why didn’t they take the guns, an’ the chow, an’ every-
ithing else while they was about it ?”
4 “TI suppose,” said the scout thoughtfully, “that it was
(7 easier for them to take the canteens than anything else.
( When we laid down, the canteens were taken off and laid
| beside us, but we were using our knapsacks for pillows,
a and we had our guns in our arms, so they would be
| handy in case of an alarm. And then, again,” he added,
“what better move could the Chinamen make, if they
wanted to put us down and out, than corralling all the
water ?”’

“This knocks out our expedition, all right,” scowled the
sailor, “keelhaul me if it don’t. If it don’t land us all
with Davy Jones I'll miss my guess.”

“We're going to keep clear of Davy Jones, Cam, just
as long as possible,” said the scout, with grim determina-
tion. “The situation isn’t hopeless, by a long shot.
We've had a good rest and our strength has returned.
Before our strength leaves us, and we begin to feel a
more urgent need of water, it will stand us in hand to
shoulder our traps and follow this trail.”

“To. the Hidden City?” asked the miner in dismay.
ako ener the trail leads us!”

Rap

“Here’s where Nick sat,’

  
  
 
  
 
 
  
  
 
  
 
  
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
   

went on Buffalo. Bill, “and

pera
Se ao

 
   
 
 
  
      
 
 
  
  
 
  
 
 
 
 

place like this.

silence.

ee “Ah, so they are,”

    

BILI STORIES. }15

“Nomad and the canteens are at the other end of
the trail, and, if we live, we ve got to get back the water
—and Nomad, too, [’d never abandon my old pard in a
If f have to, I'll go straight into the
Hidden City. We’ve got guns and plenty of ammunition,
and, if we are going to the Hidden City, I hope we'll
get there while we have strength to put up 2 fight.”

The wisdom of the scout’s words was apparent to all.
They must follow the trail left by the Chinamen while
their powers were equal to it. The heat would steadily
increase as the sun mounted zenithward, and before it
sapped their vitality they must put their fate to the
touch. :

Knapsacks were strapped on as rapidly as possible,
guns shouldered, and the start begun.

The scout took charge of Nomad’s knapsack, which he
found lying by the place where he had taken up his
second and last position as guardian of the camp.

For a mile or more they trudged onward in gloomy
The trail was easy to follow, for the six China-
men had marched in close formation.

Abruptly the scout, who was leading the advance, came
to a halt.. The others overtook him and clustered around.

“What now, Buffalo Bill?” queried Cam Okay. —

Silently. the scout lifted his arm and pointed. in the
direction they were going. All eyes followed his finger.

What the eyes saw was an animated spot of yellow,
gyrating across the desert. The spot was a bright yel-
low, standing out clearly against the duller yellow of the
sand.

‘Why, what is it?’ gasped Milly.

“By the seven holy spritsails!’’ muttered the sailor, “is
it some heathen trick these misbemannered pelt are
playin’ on us?’

“T wish we’d brought one of the ship’s glasses with

” said Phil Okay.

"hepa a said the scout, keener-eyed than the rest.

“T never seen Chinks take a shape like that afore!”
said the sailor,

“They're coming this way with sallow umbrellas,”
went on Buffalo Bill. “There are four of them. Down in
the sand, all of you, anl get your guns ready.”

The orders were instantly obeyed. Slowly, as the
party watched, the yellow patch opened out, took shape,
and revealed baggy silk trousers, then baggy blouses,
then Chinamen’s heads and arms.

When within sight of Buffalo Bill and his friends, the
four celestials suddenly furled their parasols; three of

them up-ended the parasols and thrust their points in
the ground; the fourth of the quartet began tinkering
with his parasol, but just what he was doing the Ameri-
cans couldn’t make out.
““They’re not armed, at all events,” said Phil Okay.
returned the scout.
“one of.

“They re out, I think, for a parley,”
he added, a moment later,

 
THE BUFFALO

them is coming this way with a white rag tied to the end
of his sunshade.” :

The Chinaman, advanced hesitatingly until the scout
lifted himself erect, and lifted both empty hands in a
peace sign, then he came on more swiftly.

“Took out for the yellow swab, Buffalo Bill,” urged.

Cam Okay ; ‘‘Chinks are as treacherous as Feejees.”
“There’s nothing to be feared from this man,” the
scout answered. “So far as I can see, he hasn’t a weapon
of any sort about him.”
“Their sleeves are long an’ wide, an’ I’ve known ‘em
to tote guns in their sleeves.”
The messenger was soon within easy speaking-distance,
~ and there he came to a halt, plainly with the intent to
parley. : a

CHAPTER X.

FIRST GLIMPSE OF THE HIDDEN CITY.

_ “Inglis?” called the Chinaman.

“Yes, English,” called back Buffalo Bill.

‘Very fine,” sang out the messenger. “I very glad
you talk Inglis, for we make good understand, hey?”

There was nothing meek or humble about the China-
man. Instead, there was an insolent assurance, sucli as
is born of a knowledge that one holds the whip-hand,
anl can dictate terms.

“Who are you?” demanded the scout.

“Come from City of Tsang. Very fine city, heap many
fighting men. It secret city, hard to find unless you
know how.” \

“What have you got to tell us?”

“Why you come across desert, hey?”

“That’s our business.”

“Very fine business,’ said the Chinaman. sarcastically,
“get you into plenty trouble. What you do, now you no
have any water?”

“Tid you take the canteens from our camp last night?”

“Of a certainly,” chuckled the Chinaman. “‘Took also
one hairy foreign devil, very fine foreign devil. You do
what the people of Tsang say, understand? You are to
come to Tsang and see great object-lesson. Captured
foreign devil is to die by the marble chair. You are to
see, and to learn from that we will have no foreign devils
coming here. One very fine sight. After you see, then
you will have water and go back to ship, sail away,
never come back.” "

“Why, you knock-knéed yellow-mug,” cried Cam Okay
fercely, “do you think you Chinks own all this part of
the country? If you try to kill that pard of ours, we'll
sack your bally town. Can you rise to that?” |

“Very fine fool talk,” returned the Chinaman, with a
laugh. “You come with us to Hidden City? Me all
same Ly Bing, prayer-sayer in Temple of Kwang Tun,”

9

 

BILL STORIES,

“Ly Bing, with the accent on the Ly,” whooped the
furious sailor. “I reckon that’s no dream. For a Chink
cash I’d tickle yer oriental sides with a bullet.”

“Easy, there, Cam!” warned Phil Okay, in a low voice.
“We can’t afford to get the yellow scoundrel mad at us.
There’s danger enough as it is.”

“You go to City of Tsang, hey?” called the China-
wang « ae

“Do you think we’d better?” asked the miner anx-
iously.

“There’s nothing else for it, Okay,” said the scout.
“We're out of water, and if we lingered in the desert
we should meet sure enough death. We’ve a good chance

-- in the Hidden City.. If worst-comes to worst, we can

make a stand somewhere. and use our guns.”

“T’d enough sight ruther fight the swabs than palaver
with. ’em,” growled the sailor.

“Curb yourself, Cam,” urged the miner,-“or you'll
get all of us into a hole. Think of Milly.”

“Ti it- hadn't been for-her,” said the obdurate: tar,

“T’d have used my Winchester long afore this.”

“And think, too,” spoke up the scout, “of my pard,
Nick. They threaten to put him in the marble chair.
We know what that means. It’s a fate I'll save him
from,” he finished, through his teeth, “or get into the
chair. with him.”

“We'll all stand by you in that, Buffalo Bill,” said |
Milly courageously. . :

“What say, huh, foreign devils?’ shouted the China- |
man. You. 20 to City of Tsang?

“Are we to be well treated there?” asked the scout.

“Treated very fine. Mandarin with Red Button boss |
of Tsang. He meet you, tell you what’s what. Ah, ha! |
Very fine big mandarin.”

“We'll go with you,” said the scout.

“Of a certainly,’ was the insolent response. ‘‘What
else you do? Stay in desert, die for water? You got too
much heap sense. Plenty water at Tsang. Come, fol-
low.” :

The Chinaman pulled the white rag off the end of
his yellow umbrella, unfurled it, and faced about with
military precision. Watching him, the other Chinamen
took their cues, and pulled up their own umbrellas,
opened them out, faced along the return track, and

‘ marched sedately off, in single file. “ The scout and his

friends shouldered their guns and made after them.

“Very fine Ly Bing!” snorted the sailor. ‘He talks
good pidgin, though—best I’ve heard in many moons.
He’s not taking us to the Hidden City out of any love
or compassion he holds for us. What’s your opinion of
that, Buffalo Bill? Got any guesssknockin’ around in
yer locker?”

“No,” said the scout. “We'll have to take\Ly Bing’s
reason for it. He said we were to have an object-lesson,
and that we were to witness the garroting of my old

 
ina-

X=

out,

sert |
ince |

can |

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ard,
air.

hdm }
the |

aid |

\ THE BUFFALO

ard, following which we were to be supplied with water,

aced toward the coast, and kicked out.”

“Ly Bing says he’s.a prayer-sayer,” put in Phil Okay.

It may be he’s telling the truth.”

“Bosh!”’ sneered the sailor, “bein” a Chink prayer-
ayer don’t make him a truth-teller. Why, his heathen
ame gives us a line on him. Anyhow, there’s a prospect
head o’ somethin’ to drink. I’d plunge into Tophet
self if there was a chance 0’ gittin’ water. I’m-dry
rom my neck down to my boot-soles.”’

“We must all keep eect * warned the scout, “and

ot give up our guns.”

‘To give up our guns,” said the miner, “would be
he same as putting our heads in a noose. As long as
ve have firearms, the Chinks are bound to treat us
vith some consideration.”

“The same consideration, Phil,” remarked the sailor,
at they'd give a snake before its fangs are drawn.’
at Chink that did the chinnin’ ruffled my hair the

irong way. He acted so high an’ mighty it got on v

’

, said

“Maybe, before we are done with these
datchet-boys, we'll be able to get the bulge on them.
then, in the eae of our friend, Ly Bing, we’ll show
’m ‘what's what.’

“Chalk that down in big letters, Buffalo Bill, 7 said
am, who particularly appreciated the sentiment.

The bobbing line of bright yellow umbrellas kept
adily onward, pointed, seemingly, for the distant and
stering horizon. The scout and his. friends followed
a distance of a dozen yards.

“How much longer are they goin’ to keep up this rack- -

’ jaunt?” groaned Cam Okay. “We've been goin’ ten
nots for half an hour, an’ not gittin’ anywhere.’

“The Chinamen have halted,’ said the scout.

The sailor looked ahead. What the scout said was
rue.
he yellow men were standing in a group, looking back
nd waiting for those behind to come up with them.

A few steps closer, and the scout and his friends were
ble to see that the Chinamen were at the edge of a
recipice.

Still approaching, the Americans slowly beheld a
ondrous scene unroll below them.

The basin with the steep walls opened out by de-
rees, revealing green trees and shrubbery, a limpid lake
n the center, sparkling like a great diamond, and tile-

i oofed houses, and high pagodas, each pagoda with bells

t the corners, peeped through the emerald foliage.
here was one straggling street that followed the cir-
ling shore of the lake, and moving about could be seen

the townspeople in gaudily colored clothes.

Fora distance up the sides, where there was something

: Hof a slope, the enclosing walls of the basin were culti-

The line of Chinamen had doubled on itself so that.

BILL STORIES. . 17

vated in miniature gardens, irrigated from the. lake
waters by hand-pumps which were being operated by
half-naked. coolies.

The whole scene was so novel, and in such vivid con-

‘trast with the bare sterility of the desert, that the Ameri-

cans forgot their consuming thirst, their perilous situa-
tion, and gazed downward as though entranced.

“Tsang,” said Ly Bing, with a grandiloquent wave of
a fan which he had pulled from the breast of his blouse
and opened with a snap. “Very fine lake, hey?’ he went
on. “Water sometimes make very fine drink. We go
down. Come, follow.” 5

The huddle of yellow sunshades once more flickered.
out in a bobbing string. Ly Bing led the way, crossed
the brink and dipped down a long flight of stone steps.
The stairway was wide, and had a balustrade of carved
dragons.

“This,” whispered Milly to Buffalo Bill, ‘reminds me
of ‘The Thousand and One Nights’! Who would ever
have dreamed of finding such a place as this in the midst
of the desert ?” ae

“It's the lake that makes such a place possible,” re-

plied the scout. “It doesn’t seem to have any inlet or
outlet, so it must be fed by underground springs and +
drained by an underground river. It’s a marvelous ex-
perience, but I could enjoy it more if I knew what lay
before us, and whether we were going to rescue No-
mad.” .
Down, down went the Americans, trailing after the
Chinamen. So steep was the stairway, in places, that
they could have dropped stones on the bobbing yellow
umbrellas.

Finally they came to the terraced gardens, The stone
stairway. still led downward, but at an easier slope.

At the bottom of the stairway, as they neared it, the
Americans could see a throng of waiting celestials, men,
boys, and women, and each person in the crowd had a
handful of stones.

“Looks like a bally mob was waitin’ for us!” muttered
the sailor.

The scout was troubled by this prospect of violence.

“Take your cue from me, all of you,” said he. “It’s
better to put up with a little ill- cee now, than
lose all by making use of our guns.”

“We-don’t want to stand up an’ let the Chinks bowl
us over with them rocks, do we, Buffalo Bill?” de-
murred the hostile sailor.

“Ly Bing will have to take care of us.”

“The mob may be too nee for him.”

“Well, we'll wait and see.’

As Ly Bing descended into the shade - the basin, he
furled his umbrella and held up his closed fan in a
warning gesture to the gathered crowd. Sullenly the
mob fell back from the foot of the steps.

The Chinamen descended and waited; then the Amer-

 
18 : THe BUPPAIAY BIL STORIES. «| j

fi

icans reached the foot of the stairway, crowded together, Every once in a while Ly Bing would halt, open
and swept their eyes about into the menacing faces of his fan, wave it authoritatively, and shout something ;
the Chinamen. Chinese. Then, for a space, hostility would quict dow

Ly Bing stepped forward. It was very clear that the prayer-sayer had considerahj

“Very fine gun you got,’ he smirked. “You give up influence, but he did not have enough to avert the di
gun, then we go on.” aster that was threatening and gathering headway.

Suddenly, close to the street that circled about ¢
lake, a stone thumped smartly against Cam Okay’s knay
CHAPTER XI. sack. The tiger in the American was aroused on th
instant. :

Leaping to an about-face, he squared himself, he
his Winchester in the hollow of his left arm, and sho
his right fist.

“Ye misbemannered rat-eaters!” he ee "if ye (
that again, I'll grab ye by yer pig-tails an’ knock y
bally heads together. Ye’re a lot o’——”’

Phii Okay, turning back, grabbed his brother by t
arm.

66 ise Sem Le Bl ages 99 : ce yt tad
But the scout had no intention of yielding up the fire- a ee Bane, a San ge Sn : a
arms. The weapons were all that stood between him De oS AEs Ov maou tt et

and Vis tienda dud sauederous teacheey, rest of us, even if you don’t think of yourself. Thin
of Milly, man!”

PNG Ee A OA,

This demand of Ly Bing’s was entirely unexpected
by the Americans. It precipitated a situation which
might result in a desperate fight.

Fiad Ly Bing cunningly waited for this moment, when
the Americans should be face to face with the mob, to
make his demand for the guns? To the scout it seemed
so.

“We will keep our guns,” said he stoutly. :

“You no go into city if you keep gun,” frowned Ly Forward, ey the lead, Ly Bing had whirled. i
Bing. “People of Tsang no like looks of gun. Very face was like ashes when he discovered that. Buffalo Bi
fine people and very fine fighters.” : was drawing a bead on him with his Winchester.

“Look here,” said the scout sternly, “if those Chinamen “Stop this, Ly Bing,” yelled the scout, “and stop
begin throwing rocks we'll begin throwing bullets, and “ow!” |
you will be the very first man that stops a slug. Un- Ly Bing was anxious to stop it, but before he cou
derstand ?” wave his official fan, or find his tongue, another ]

Evidently Ly Bing understood. His slant eyes way-. had been hurled. It struck the warlike Cam Oka
ered for an instant, and he was not slow to see that this glancing blow on the temple, doing little damage asi

handsome, long-haired, resolute-looking foreign devil from making his wrath ungovernable.

had the call. With a howl of anger he pulled himself out of :
“Very fine,” said Ly Bing. “You keep gun for a

: | ae brother’s grip jumped into the mob, and let. his fi
while, till you see Mandarin with Red Button. He drive against the nearest yellow face. The Chinam
come to pagoda plenty soon. Come, follow.” _ tumbled as though he had been knocked down by ana

Once more the Chinamen flickered into a line—that

is, the four with the umbrellas—and the scout and his ie oes bee ee
n the part of the foreign devil, began closing in.
friends followed close at their heels so they could get Take care of Milly. Buftalc fe HY? sh ‘
the drop on Ly Bing in the event of trouble. The mob, Ok hj h ce ; oe P
whooping and yelling, growing in numbers, flocked along ee a |
behind. “Don’t shoot!” roared the scout, at the top of i
The scout and the miner took Milly between them. lungs, “whatever you do, don’t shoot, Ly Bing,”
Cam was a little in the rear, clutching his Winchester added, to the prayer-sayer, “if this isn’t stopped in or
with nervous fingers, and fighting down a mad desire to minute I'll drop you where you stand !” :
lay about him with his fists, if not with bullets, Ly Bing, however, was only human. He was terril
The course taken by the Chinamen under Ly Bing led afraid for himself, and jumped up and down, waved I
through a grove of palms and pepper-trees toward the fan, and whooped in Chinese. But the yells of the crov
street of the city, were so fierce, Ly Bing’s orders could not be heard.
Red-roofed houses were passed, and men and women It looked, for a brief space, as though there would |
looked out curiously at the foreign devils, and some shook a general mix- up, followed by a certain gap among t
their fists and muttered savage imprecations, Chinamen prayer-sayers of the Temple of Kwang Tun. On |
in front of the houses and along the way either joined sides the mob began closing in on the Americans, al

in with the hooting crowd, or stood back and urged the the two Okays were having their hands a little mo
mob to some sort of action. 5 than full.

 
DEN oy
hing j
t dow
iderab|

the. dis

THE  BUBFALO

t just at the critical moment, four coolies came
cing down the street bearing a gilded chair. In the
sat a fat Chinaman, dressed in silk brocade, ful-
ly trimmed with gold braid, and wearing a cap on
op of which was a big red button. On either side
e chair traveled two more coolies, one bearing a big
and the other holding a long-handled red umbrella
the august personage. .
e sight of the august personage was enough. The
s and bloodthirsty yells of the mob died out as if
agic. Phil and Cam Okay found themselves sud-
y deserted by their antagonists, five of the mob either
¢ or lying on the ground at their feet, unable to
ie away. Cam picked up his Winchester, which he
dropped in order to have the use of both fists. Buf-
Bill, recognizing the supreme authority of Tsang,
red the rifle which he had leveled at Ly Bing.
e bearers of the gilded chair came to a halt, and
fat Chinaman, assisted by his fan-bearer and umbrel-
bearer, stepped out. —
e had a double chin, and his puffy face hung down
aids; his eyes, gleaming out through two slits, were
entlike, and proved he had an alert mind in spite
is loggy body. When he stood up, his queue-tip
st swept the ground.
hat he said, naturally,. neither the scout nor his
ends could understand; but it was sufficient, whatever
was. The mob melted away.
Then the man with the red button turned to Ly Bing
d continued his remarks. Ly Bing, as soon as he
addressed, fell down on this knees, and bumped his
w forehead on the earth.

The moment the fat Chinaman was through, his coolie °

pers assisted him back into the chair, and not until
s chair-bearers had trotted out of sight did Ly Bing

here was no further demonstration against the Amer-
s on the part of the inhabitants during their pas-

After a brief walk, Ly Bing halted before the
ance to a pagoda. With his fan he struck a silver

he door of the pagoda opened noiselessly, and a
t was revealed. Ly Bing spoke, the priest bowed,
then Ly Bing stepped back and waved the Ameri-
into the temple.

ery fine pagoda,” said he “very fine place to stay.
ty water—drink all you want. Then wait for Man-

n with Red Button. Good-by.”
ooks like it might be a trap,’ muttered Cam Okay.

mt, if it is, we can all push the bally thing over and_
alk out through the bottom.”

Buffalo Bill led the way into the pagoda, finding him-
in a small tiled anteroom whose only furnishing
a little black joss on a marble shelf. The priest

BILL STORIES. | “19

pressed a knob in the wall, and a narrow stone door
rolled back, revealing a spacious apartment beyond.

“Enter,” said the priest, waving his hand.

Surprised at the priest’s command of English, the
scout paused a second and looked at him.

“What is your name?” he asked.

“Shang Yuang, foreign devil.”

“Ah! Then you know Benjamin Raynor?”

The priest’s facial muscles tightened a second, and a
strange look arose in his slant eyes.

“Enter” he repeated roughly.

The scout went into the room followed by the rest of
his party. Behind them the block of ston¢- noiselessly
closed.

“No way to get out,” growled Cam Okay, looking
over the wall around the edge of the door. “I can’t see
a knob that operates the stone on this side.”

“Let’s not borrow any trouble,” adjured the scout, “but.
thank our stars that we got away from that mob with
our lives. Suppose we take what comfort we can.”

There was a large porcelain bowl on a teakwood table.
The bowl was filled with water. The scout picked up a
China cup, filled it out of the bowl, and handed it to
Milly. As the girl réached out her hand, the scout
swiftly drew the cup back.

“Just a minute, Milly,” said he. “I believe I’ll take
the first drink—just to satisfy myself, you know, that the
water hasn’t been poisoned, or drugged.”

Thereupon the\scout tasted of the liquid and found it
cool and, so far a6 he could judge, in no wise “doctored.”
He drained the€up at a gulp, and filled it again for Milly.

“Tt must be all right,’ said he; “at. least, so far as I
can tell, there’s nothing wrong with it.”

They all drank, and felt wonderfully refreshed.

“Now for the knapsacks,”’ jubilated Cam Okay, “and a
square meal. That’s all I need to put me in trim to lick
the hull town.”

While they were eating, Buffalo Bill took a survey of
the room.

He and his friends were surrounded with wily and
desperate enemies whose designs they could not know,
for it was quite possible Ly Bing had not told them the
truth.

The scout, therefore, considered it necessary to take
account of their surroundings. There was no telling
when even the most trifling knowledge might not prove
of value.

CHAPTER XU.
THE MANDARIN OF THE RED BUTTON.

The walls of the pagoda were octagonal in shape.
The room at the entry-way, through which the Ameri-
cans were admitted, cut off from the other chamber part

\
\

 
20 THE BUFFALO

of. the outer wall, but there were still five angles left
in the apartment, @nl a longer wall in which was the stone
door.

A bench, covered with silk cushions, ran around the
outer wall. Over the bench were windows, not more than
six inches in width, and perhaps three feet long. Instead
of glass the windows were filled with mica. Two of
the windows were open for ventilation.

The walls were of marble slabs, and without hangings
of any sort. Apart from the bench, the teakwood table
was the only article of furniture in the room. ‘The
ceiling and floor were also of marble.

“What d’ye think of it, mate?’ asked Cam Okay, ob-
serving how the scout was sizing up the apartment.

“It looks like a very good marble prison,’ answered
the scout, sitting down on the bench cushions and begin-
ning to eat.

“Think they're going to keep us here, Buffalo Bill?”
questioned Phil Okay.

“Not if Ly Bing told the truth. Surely they'll let us
out when Nomad is put in the marble chair.’

“If we can’t get out before that,” said Milly,
can’t do anything for poor old Nick.”

“then we

39

“ll find a way,’ muttered the scout grimly. “This
Hidden City is not going to’ be the end of my old pard.”

The trapper’s peril arose paramount to every other.
consideration. Silence fell over the group. The scout
had finished his meal, and was just repacking his knap-
sack, when the stone door slid back ao the’ least
intimation that any one was coming.

The fat Chinaman with the red button wabbled in.
Behind him trailed the fan-bearer and umbrella-bearer ;
but these two functionaries had given up the fan.and
the umbrella, and had armed themselves with a couple of
Malay creeses.

The fan-bearer and umbrella-bearer were there to pro-
tect the august personage from the Americans. As the
scout stared at the fat fellow, a daring idea suddenly

darted through his mind. The more he thought of it,

the more feasible it seemed to become. As yet, how-
ever, he held it firmly at the back of his head.

The stone door slid shut, leaving Shang Yuang on the
outside. The fat Chinaman dropped heavily down on
the bench at a little distance from the Americans, the
coolies with the creeses stationing themselves on each
side of him.

The Chinaman’s face folded into a ouileful grin.

“Plenty nice foreign devils,’ he remarked wheezily,
with a command of English that stacked up favorably
with the prayer-sayer’s, “why you no stay in your own
plenty nice country, and not bother Chinaman?”

“That's good!” growled Cam Okay. ‘Bother China-
man, eh? Id like to know who’s been doing all the
bothering, if the Chinks haven’t.”

 

BILL STORIES.

“We came peaceably,” said the scout, “and would have
gone peaceably and never have come to Tsang if the
Tsang Chinamen hadn’t made trouble for us.”

The Chinaman shook his fat head.

“Why you come?” he demanded. “What you want?’

“That's our business,” said the scout curtly. “When
we finish it we will go back to our ship and return to our
own country.”

“Last night other party foreign devils kill lot Tsang
men with boom-boom gun.
place plenty good foreign devil we capture last night in
marble chair. You like see? Then give up gun and
come, follow.’

“We're not going to give up our guns,’’ asserted the
scout,

“Then no can see friend sit in marble chair, no c:
leave Tsang, starve, die in pagoda,”

“Who are you?’

“All same Mandarin with Red Button. a

The Chinaman’s
fingered his badge of office.

“Are you the ruler of Tsang?”

“All same.

No got boss this side China. I give orde

order carried out; if not, somebody sit in marble chair.

The Mandarin crinkled up his eyes and aha same guile-
ful grin dug into his flabby face.

“You speak of another party of white men,”
the scout. ‘““Where were they?”

went on

“Off ’cross desert. Make big fight with Tsang people,
plenty boom-boom, plenty Tsang people killed. Bymby
we have other fight. Not so many Tsang people killed
that time, more foreign devils.”

asked Milly.

“That's where you get past ae ent Milly,”
Cam Okay.

“Who can that other party be?” a

“It’s pretty sure,” said the miner, “that we were
treated as we were, last night, because of what those
other white men did. Maybe they are prospectors.”

“We don’t belong with that other party,” went on the
scout to the mandarin.

“All white foreign devils, same party. No fool Man-
darin of Red Button. No want
to see prisoner foreign devil sit in marble chair? No
want to get back to ship? Want to starve? Don’t be
fool, foreign devil. Think plenty.”

You no give up gun?

‘ . s so

‘We shall not give up our guns,” said the scout, h
eyes glittering.

“Plenty good, then.
all time.”

I go; but first I say good-by f

Outside, somewhere, a big bell began to toll.

“You hear bell?” asked the mandarin, wobbling to his
Peet.)

 

You belong with them. We |

hand went to the top of his cap, and ;

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H “Yes,” answered the scout.
f “When bell done ringing, prisoner foreign devil sit
fn marble chair. Too heap bad you no give up gun.”

Mm The Mandarin said something to one of the coolies.
Phe coolie stepped to the wall and pushed with his san-
mal on a piece of marble slab. Thereupon the door slid
Bc

; The time had come when Buffalo Bill's daring plan
ust be executed, it at all. With a bound, he jumped
Bt the coolie who had pressed down on the slab. A blow
ron the shoulder sent the coolie staggering, the creese
fying out of his hand. _

| “Take the other coolie, Cam!” cried the scout;
pet the priest! Milly, cover the mandarin!”

   
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
 
   
   
  

“Phil,

| The orders came sharp and. swift as bullets from a
3 Gatling gun.. After the first rush of surprise at this
Bnexpected move on the part of the scout, Cam, Phil,
md Milly Jeaped to carry out their part.

 

 

f The other coolie was disarmed by the sailor, who
Picked up both creeses and thrust them through his belt ;
en, with a revolver in each hand, he drove them into a
orner, and held them there.

 

 

“Milly was looking at the mandarin over the sights of
er own six-shooter. The fat fellow was shaking like a

 

 

 

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owl of jelly, his flabby face fairly purple with rage and
rror.

 

® Phil Okay had jumped through the stone door and
i Srabbed the wondering priest, into the
chamber with the coolies.

hustling him

 

 

 

| All this had happened so quickly that it was practically
over before mandarin, priest, or. coolies
\ as going on.
H The mandarin began to bellow.
f “I'll take charge of him for a few moments, Milly,”
Beaid the scout, getting the fat official under the point of
his own weapon. “Quiet!” he cried sternly, as the man-
Melarin began to bellow.

realized what

q The mandarin put up his hands and fell back on the
Ps cushions,

| “What's this for, Buffalo Bill?’ asked Cam Okay.

| “We've got hold of the champion high boy of the set-

en! was the reply, “and so long as we hang orto
him we have a barrier between us and disastér,”

| “By Jupiter!” exclaimed the admiring Phil Okay.
“Well, shiver me!” added the sailor. “Easy as fallin’
oft a yard-arm, wasn't it? An’ I never thought of such
i dodge!”

“It takes Buffalo Bill to think of these things! P de-

ae Milly.

| The deep tones of the bell, echoing through that room
in the pagoda, aroused in the scout the realization of his
main purpose.

“You're our prisoner, understand : ?”? said he sternly, to
the mandarin,

      
  

F F A L O

Za

Bint SLORIES.

  

getting his
“How long before Tsang people
come, hey? Then what?”

“Then,” said the scout slowly and deliberately,
die lV.

The Mandarin’s nerve was shaken again.

“Furthermore,” said the scout, “if your white prisoner
goes to the marble chair, you die!”

“Whoosh!” wailed the mandarin, cowering. “It will
be soon! Let me go to great pagoda, or it will be done!”

“You're not going to leave our hands until we are
ready to go to the coast,’ went on Buffalo Bill. “You
are a hostage for my old pard’s safety, and for the safety
ofthe rest of us. .Savvy, hostage?”

“I savvy,” answered the mandarin, squirming on the
cushions as he pulled a big gold ring off his finger.
“You savvy signet?”

“Signet-ring ?”’ returned the scout.

“Plenty power, same as

answered the mandarin,
nerve back a little.

vEuentiy. mice”

“you

TNS | T Savag
mandarin,’ continued the
Chinaman, wheezing his words out swiitly. ‘You take
signet, go to great pagoda with coolie; show signet to
red woman and save foreign devil. You have short
time.”

“T thought so,” “Look
darin,” he added, “if anything happens to me, my friends
here will put a bullet through you. And as for a guide
to take me ‘to the great pagoda, I’d rather have the priest
than one of the coolies.”

The mandarin turned to the priest and spoke rapidly.
The latter nodded, and got up, starting for the door and
beckoning to pana Bill.

“I’m off, amigos,’ said the scout to the Okays, “off
to save my old pard. We've got to get to the great
pagoda befgre that bell is done ringing. Hang to the
Everything, even our very lives, depends on

muttered the scout. here, man-

mandarin,
that.”

The scout did not wait for an answer, but sped away
after the priest. He did not take his rifle with him, but
left it with the Okays. His forty-fives were in his belt,
however, and he felt that his best weapon was the ring
the mandarin had given him.

CHAPTER XIII.

SAWVOEN G. NOM AD.

Fortunately for the scout’s trapper pard the great
pagoda of the City of Tsang was not at a great dis-
tance from the other pagoda to which the Americans
had been conducted.

The priest, understanding that the life of a Mandarin
of the Red Button hung on the celerity with which the
great pagoda was reached, ran like a deer.

Passing Chinamen watched curiously as the priest

 
22

 

raced by, followed by the foreign devil. Most of them,
as an evidence of their regard, shook yellow fists after
the scout. No one attempted to. interfere with his prog-
ress, however.

The bell was still tolling. Every stroke the king of
scouts feared might be the finish; the last one did sound
as they turned in at the pagoda door. ©

Here they were stopped by one of the priests. Even
the other priest could not pass this one, not having the
entrée of that particular temple.

Buffalo Bill tried to shove by; but other Dress came,
and he was caught roughly. Then he flashed the man-
darin’s signet-ring, and ‘the way cleared as if at the

“presto” of a magician.

Thereupon the scout and Shane Yuang bolted into

the temple proper. It was high time.

Ahead of the scout, in the big room of the pagoda,
was a white marble platform, three feet high. Sur-
mounting the platform was a white marble chair, with
a piece of iron running upward from the back. Through
this piece of iron worked a screw, operated by a bar-
handle from behind the chair.

Old Nomad was seated in the chair, his hands secured
to the chair-arms, and his ankles fastened to the chair’s
base by iron bands.
compassed his throat and held his head firmly. The
turning of the screw would send a wicked point into the

victim’s spine, breaking his neck and piercing the vital’

cord.

Strange as it may seem, a rather pretty Chinese girl,
who could not have been more than nineteen or twenty,
was the executioner. She was dressed in a red cap and
a red tunic, and was already manipulating the bar that
turned the screw.

All these details Buffalo Bill took in at a flash. He
executed a mad rush for the marble platform, climbed to
the top of it, and sprang toward the girl.

“Buffler !” gasped Old Nomad.
inter this pizen town?”

There was no time for answer. |

“Enough of this!” cried Buffalo Bill, seizing the red
executioner by the arms and forcing her away from the
death-chair.

There were many priests in the front part of the
room, and some among them had not been at the door
and caught the glitter of the mandarin’s ring,

These unknowing ones flocked toward the platform,
where the scout, holding the girl away with one hand,
was unwinding the screw with the other.

_ “Waugh!” grunted Nomad. “Now ye’ve got yerself

in ther wust kind of er hole, Buffler. Look et ther
» Hatchet-boys. When I’m done settin’ in this pizen chair,
Ye hadn’t orter done et,

“However did you git

they'll invite you ter take a a
pard.”

The scout, as gently as he could, and with far more

 

THE BUFFALO

A band at the chair’s back en-

BILL. STORIES.

consideration than he felt like using, lowered the Chinese
girl to the floor.

“Shang Yuang!” he cried.

“What, foreign devil?” asked the priest.

“Tell that red she fiend that this is by the mandarin’s
orders!” And, as he spoke, the scout held up the gleam- |
ing ring.

Shang Yuang repeated the scout’s words in Chinese, |

and then, with a wave of the hand, called attention to the
mandarin’s ring.

This was sufficient to stay the hostility of the priests,

and to curb the murderous ardor of the girl.

“Tell some one, who knows how, to come up here and
release the foreign devil,’ was the scout’s next request
of Shang Yuang.

These words having been duly translated, a priest
with gray in his thin queue climbed to the om and
unclasped the iron bands.

Nomad got up, stretched his limbs, and caught Buffalo
Bill’s hand.

“Snarlin’ catermounts, Buffler,” said he, “thet’s what
ye might call in ther nick o’ time. Blamed ef I know how
ye worked et ter make sich er play successful. I’m clean
beat, fer a fact.”

“No time to talk about that now, old pard,” said the

scout, watching anxiously while a mob began gathering
“We've got to clear out of this

before the pagoda door.
before we get hemmed in.”
“Lead ther way. I’ll be tickled ter death ter foller.”
The scout jumped down from the platform.

“Now, Shang,” said he, “we’ll make a quick trip back
to the other pagoda.”

The priest bowed assent, and hurried toward the door.
The crowd parted before him. Close to the priest’s heels
followed the scout and the trapper.

No attempt was made to restrain the Americans. Al-

ready it was noised abroad that the mandarin was a pris-

oner in the hands of the desperate foreign devils, and
that any harm visited upon the invaders would cause the
mandarin to lose his life.

Sullen, hostile faces glowered at Buffalo Bill and No-
mad, i not a hand was laid on them. __

“These hyar yaller boys ain’t very pleasant ter look at,
aire they, Buffler?’”’ observed Nomad as they chased the
flying priest.

“We've got them when the hair’s short, Nick, ” laughed
Buffalo Bill, “but this town isn’t a very healthy place for
us, even at that.”

“What's this hyar mandarin?”

“We have captured him and are holding him as a hos-
tage for our safety.”

“Sufferin’ wildcats! You fellers done thet?” _

“We had to do something, Nick, if we wanted to save
you, and ourselves.” .

“So ye captered ther High Mucky Muck o’ ther Chink

 

   

    

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bwn!” gloated Nomad. “Thet’s one o’ Pard Buffler’s
noves fer ye. Oh, no, nothin’ brilliant erbout thet!
ay, pard, ther longer I know ye the more I’m beginnin’
pr find ye out.”

|“There are some things about you, Nick, I’d like to
md out.”

“Meanin’ ter say:
| “How you came to leave us last night.”
| “Waal, et was this hyar way, Buffler

“Stow it for now, Nick,’ interrupted the scout; “the
est will want to hear, and we're pretty close to the place
where they are.”

39

 

9

 

A. few moments later they reached the other pagoda,
ee in after the in and were quickly in company
th the Okays.
\ shout of joy greeted the coming of Old Nomad.
“Sayed, was ye, mate?” cried Cam. ie
“Oh, nary, Cam, I wasn’t saved,” returned the trap-
“Buffler jest lifted me hide, ha’r, an’ breeches out
» thet marble chair by flashin’ er gold ring in ther
aces 0 ther assassins. Thet thar ole cimiroon’—and
Nomad stepped over and tweaked the mandarin’s nose—
‘was ther cause er my troubles. I’d shore like ter
ev ther handlin’ of ther hipperpotamus fer a spell!”
“What happened to you, Nick?” inquired Phil Okay.
“Things what I hates. ter mention,” said Nomad.
Buffler puts me on gyard, an’ ther way I done ther job
glooms me up. But I wasn’t lookin’ fer a pile er rocks
like them rocks did.”

7
DCT,

er come ter life,
“What rocks?”
“Waal, this was ther vey OF et:
myself fust, smokin’ an’ thinkin’,

I sat whar I posted
an’ lightin’ my pipe
ferbout every two minits. Then, fust thing I knowed, I
seen a pile er rocks, off a ways ffom ther camp. Them
tocks was new ter me, an’ I couldn’t understand why I
hadn’t seen ’em afore. So, fer purposes of investigation,
I oe up an’ moseys a leetle closter, then sets down

gin,

ee wasn’t so much of er pile, arter I got clost,
but was kinder scatterin’ like, all eround me. Yaller
rocks they was, nigh as I could make out, an’ when I
shifted my persition an’ tried ter set down on one, I
was met more’n half-way in a manner thet was sur-
prisin’, |

“Somethin’ grabbed me erbout ther throat,
couldn’t holler; then, out o’ ther tails o° my eyes I seen
every last rock throw itself back an’ show up er Chink.
Pard Buffler an’ friends, them things I thort was rocks

was nothin’ but yaller umberells, an’ under each umberell

sa'st. E

thar was er Chink.

“Thet’s how they got me, an’ I’m ashamed ter tell of
et, et was such a fool play ter pan out so mirac’lously
successful. They knocked me over ther head, an’ when

I come to, 1 was in one 0’ them thar dungeons Raynor
wrote erbout.

THE BUFE ALO

 

BILL STORIES. 23

  

“Thet fat cimiroon’’—here Nomad kicked at the man-
darin’s shins—‘‘come ter see me, an’ said I was ter hev
ther pleasure 0’ settin’ in ther marble chair. They had
taken my guns, an’ they fed me on rice an’ water, givin’
me chop-sticks ter eat with. Fool customs these heathens
hev, hey? ‘Think 0’ eatin’ soup with er couple er lead-
pencils! er cuttin’ a tough steak with ’em!

“Waal, erwhile ergo them priests come an’ took me up-
stairs, set me in ther marble chair, fastened me so’st I
couldn’t git erway. an’ then the gal in red begins ter
take a hand. I was jest feelin’ a sort 0’ stingin’ at the
back o’ my neck when Buffler rushed in an’ got me loose.
I knowed Buffler ’u’d come, somehow, kase thet’s his
style, but I’m er Piegan ef I understand how he did et.”

Old Nomad turned to his pard.

“Ef ye'll kindly explain,” he began,
kinks'll be took out of ther

A muttering as of many voices came from the temple
door. Looking through the door, those present in the
chamber could see the scowling faces of a big crowd
which was swiftly gathering.

“All hands on deck!’ yelled Cam Okay. “Calamity is
in another minit we'll be on the rocks.

“IT reckon ther

 

dead ahead, an’
Clear deck for action!”

“Softly, Cam!’ cautioned Buffalo Bill. “I have an-
other card to play, and right here is the place to play it.’

CHAPTER XIV;
VANISHED TREASURE.

grinned Okay, “when it
What ye goin’ to do

“Ye're pretty good; mate,”
comes to cold-deckin’ the Chinks.
now?”

“Watch the door, all of you,’ said Buffalo Bill, step-
ping toward the mandarin. “If any of the Chinamen try
to come in, shoot this man with the Red Button.”

That brought a howl from the mandarin, just as Buf-
falo Bill had expected. He yelled out some words in
Chinese. The crowd heard, and fell away from the door.

“You savvy two white rocks on the desert, big as.
pagodas?” the scout asked the mandarin,

“All same,” fluttered the Chinarnan breathlessly.

“You're going there with us.”

“When we go?”

“Right away.”

“T take my coolies ?”

“You take enough coolies to carry your chair—no
more. If any other follow us, we shoot the Mandarin of
the Red Button. You understand ?”

“All same,” said the mandarin meekly.

“We want our water-canteens, and we want them all
filled with fresh water,” continued the scout. “And, be-
fore we drink from the canteens, we’re going to make you

ABSre RN apes Pee

 

 

 

 

 

 

     

 
   
  

oie. see aD ay
  

   

Cam Okay from the rear,

24 A THE BUFFALO

drink. Savvy? Then, if the water is poisoned, mandarin
ee top-side.”
of eee Canteen come, good water come in can-

teen.”

“Give the order!”

Lying back on the cushions the mandarin bawled his
orders.

“Waugh!” snorted Nomad. “I kin make better a
gwidge than thet on er goose-call.”’

“I could do better on a fog-horn,” grinned Cam Okay.

It was remarkable with what celerity the mandarin’s
orders were carried out. Not only were. all the canteens
filled with fresh water and brought to the pagoda door,

‘ but Nomad’s guns were likewise among the offerings,

given to placate the scheming foreign devils.

The four coolies loped up with the mandarin’s chair,

While all hands were slinging the haversacks to their
backs, Buffalo Bill had a talk with Shang Yuang.

“We are about to leave your hospitable little city,
Shang,” said he, “never to set foot in it again. We have
some business to transact, however, before we return to
the coast, and in order that we can do our work and get

back to our ship with whole skins, we’re going to take |

your mandarin with us. If the people of Tsang leave us
‘alone, no harm will come to the mandarin; but if they
try to follow us, or to interfere with us in any way, the
mandarin will go top-side chop-chop. When we get
aboard our ship, we shall leave the mandarin behind, pro-
viding we have not been bothered. Now, Shang, we feel
very kindly disposed toward you because you were a
friend of Benjamin Raynor, so we're going to leave you
here to explain all these things to the people. Remember,
your mandarin is safe so long as we are. That’s all.”

Half an hour later, a little less than twenty-four hours
from the time they had left the Treasure Trove and com-
menced their adventurous inland journey, the scout and
his reunited party scaled the basin wall of the Hidden
City.

The mandarin’s chair was carried ahead. In front of
the chair marched Phil Okay and Milly, on either side
of it- walked Buffalo Bill and Nomad, and behind it
came Cam Okay. All the Americans carried drawn re-
volvers.

In this manner they proceeded, the mandarin occasion-
ally calling out directions. But this was needless, for
the towering pinnacles, in the light of the late after-
noon, stood out in black silhouette toward the west.

“I’m. beginnin’ to understand, Buffalo Bill,” ‘called
“why I’ve been hearin’ about
you in every port I’ve dropped anchor at for a’ year er
more. Ye’ve got some sort of a dodge to chink in every
hole that gives an enemy a chance at ye. Ye’re cock 0’
the walk in the western part of our beloved country.
The way you've snatched us out o’ that bally Chink set-
tlement, an’ headed us, without.a scratch, an’ in perfect

    

 
  
 
   
   
   
   
   
    
  
  
  
  
   
  
 
  
  
 
  
   
   
    
  
  
 
    
 
   
  
  
   
   
  
  
   
   
  
    
  
 
   
  
   
  
  
  
 

claimed the apprehensive Milly.

Bild STORIES.

safety, toward that treasure is one’of the most remarkable
things I’ve ever seen ashore.’

“Thet’s him,” gloried Nomad, “thet’s Buffler.
ter know, I reckon,
gether fer y’ars.”

“A clear head, a quick eye, and a handy fist,’ laughed
the scout, “will carry a man far, and enable him to ac-
complish a good many things. That's all Pyhappen to
have, Cam.” .

“Along with a right good smatterin’ 0’ Cody-luck,”
commented Nomad.

The chair-bearers strode quickly, and the small proces-
sion was soon between the two pinnacles, where the un-
fortunate Dobbins and his comrades had buried the gold.

Here a discovery was made that threw a deep gloom

I ort
seein’ as how we've traveled ter-

over every one, and particularly so over Cam Okay.”

The white stone between the pinnacles had been cast
aside. A hole was revealed, and the hole was empty!

“Sink me!’ bawled the sailor, starting for the man-
darin in a rage, “have yotir Chinks been at this cache?
Tell me, ye fat swab, or I’ll make shark’s bait 0’ ye in
ee

Phil caught his brother and held him back.

“No savvy anything about hole,’ averred the man-
darin. “All same I savvy high rocks, but no savvy hole.
What you look for?”

“Gold!” yelped Cam Okay; “a million o’ gold! It was
there, an’ it ain’t there now.”

“Mebby other party foreign devils get gold? Why
they come here if not to get gold? I no savvy !”

“He's right, Cam, I’m pretty sure of it,” spoke up Buf-
falo Bill. “Muldoon is back of this. His gang, in some
manner, has got ahead of us while we were hung up in
the Hidden City.” .

“Then, keelhaul me, that other party must have started
back to the coast. We've got to get to the Gulf in time
to take our plunder away from the thieves! If we
don’t——”

“Listen!” broke in Buffalo Bill, ae his hand in
token of silence. “I hear something.”

What the scout heard they all heard. It was a distant
crack of firearms, borne down on the wind.

“Other battle!” cried the mandarin excitedly. “People
of Tsang are fighting foreign devils once more. It is
over there’’—he pointed east by north—“let us go!”

“Nomad and I will go,” said Buffalo Bill. =n, you
and Cam, and Milly stay with the mandarin. He is your
safeguard. Start out on the way back to the ship. After
you make a détour to avoid the Hidden City, hit our old
trail. We'll overtake you there.”

“But you are going into danger, Buffalo Bill!” ex-
: “You won’t have the
mandarin with you-——”

“But we will have the mandarin’s ring, Milly,”

cut in
the scout, “and that will take care of us.’’

   

“Ge

Okay.

snakit
age if
cot tl
fem

Th
hurri
fuile,

By
must

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Ever
give

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at th

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ne

ed
ne
ve

ane BUPEALO

“Get hold of the gold, mate, if you can,’ said Cam
)kay. “That other gang probably has some way of
snaking it along, and mayhap you an’ Nomad can man-
age it till you join us, once more. If the Chinks have
vot the gold, slam that ring under their noses an’ make
‘em give-up.”

The scout and the trapper, without waiting further,
hurried off in the direction of the distant shooting. A
file. two miles, they covered at a half-run.

By then the shooting was all over, but they knew they
must be close to the scene of the scrimmage.

Presently they saw a figure running toward them.
Evening was drawing on, but daylight still served to
give them a good view Of their surroundings.

The man who was tearing along over the desert was
pursued by half a dozen others—Chinamen, as the two
pards could see when they had come closer.

“Hyar’s one o’ ther gang that got beforehand with us
at ther cache, Buffler,” said Nomad. ‘‘He’s lost his guns,
an’ ther Chinks aire pressin’ him hard.”

“Well save him,” said the scout, “and find out some-
thing about this other party. If the fellow knows
The scout bit his words off abruptly. “Why,” he finished,
in amazement, “the man’s Muldoon!”

“Kerect,” said Nomad, “et shore is Muldoon. Aire we
goin’ ter pick ther Chinks off, Buffler?”

“No, Nick; we'll spring the signet on them.”

“Save me!” cried Muldoon hoarsely, as he drew close.
“Th fainds’ll have me loife av ye don’t help me!”

Perhaps Muldoon recognized the persons to whom he
was appealing for succor, and perhaps he didn’t; any-
way, even if he did, probably he preferred to be captured
by white enemies rather than by yellow ones.

His legs gave out just as he reached the two pards, and
he fell to the ground, panting like a spent dog. Buffalo
Bill raised his hand and flashed the signet. The China-
men could not see very well, and it was necessary for
them to see the ring clearly, and to recognize it before

 

they would respect it.

Buffalo Bill had some difficulty in getting close enough
to them, and not until he had dropped his weapons would
they allow him to come near.

But close inspection of the ring did the work. In his
hest pidgin the scout explained that it was the mandarin’s
wish that the man they were chasing should be spared.

The Chinamen answered that they had fought and
whipped the foreign devils, killing four, and that they
had found three buckskin sacks of gold.

The gold, the scout explained, belonged to other for-
eign devils, and was to be left on the scene of the battle,
under peril of the mandarin’s displeasure.

This was a sad proposition for the Chinamen to face,
but orders from such a high authority could not be disre-
gvarbed, As one man they turned and trotted off in the
direction whence they had come.

 

  
 

sa tan ae Si an Sine achat te

Tals

 

BILL STORIES.

25

“Maybe we'll get some of that gold and maybe we
won't,” said the scout, “but there’s no harm in making a
try. for ite

CHAPTER XV.
‘A STUNNING SURPRISE.

“Well, Muldoon,” said the scout, facing the Irishman
as he arose weakly from the ground, “why should we
put ourselves out very much to save you ? Can you tell
me that?” ;

“Faith, Buffalo Bill,’ was the answer, “mabby it’s be- -
cause T have somethin’ to’ tell yez thot yez want t’? know.”

“About your treachery?” : :

“Sure, an’ something more. It’s a divil’s own tcime
I’ve had since Vavin’ th’ Treasure Trove.”

“How far is it to where you had the fight 2”

“Hard onto a moile. I come over th’ ground so quick,
with them haythens hot afther me, thot I didn’t figger
much on th’ distance, but I’ll lay ut at a moile. Tl go
back wid yez.”

They started, but at a slower pace now that they knew
the battle was over.

“You came aboard the schooner purposely to.spy upon
us and find out where we were going and what we were
going to do?”

“Sure, it was known what yez was goin’ t’ do,” an-
swered Muldoon, “but where yez was goin’ t’ do it is
what I was t’ foind out.”

“You found out?”

“Long befure I thought I would. Yez see, Buffalo
Bill, I heard yez radin’ thot letther in th’ cabin, an’ I’d
heard th’ whole av ut befure th’ girl saw me.”

“Vou went over the side and swam ashore u.

did

“And you sent up those rockets?”

“T did thot, too. Yez see, I didn’t want th’ other boat
t’ go past an’ l’ave me on th’*bank av th’ river. Th’ rest
avy our fellows wasn’t expectin’ me t’ raypoort so quick.”

“There was another boat following us?’

_ “Another schooner.” .

“We didh’t see anything of it,” said Buffalo Bill, be-
ginning to worry a little about Silva and Garcia. :

“No more yez didn’t. Havin’ all th’ infermation yez
had, we kept farther out in th’ Gulf. When two hun-
nerd moiles down th’ coast by dead reckonin’, we put fr
shore well above th Three Bays: We knowed, d’yez

Ne

moind, thot yer boat would be in th’ middle bay, an’ we

didn’t want.t’ lose anny toime cuttin’ her out. We ix-

pected yez ’u’d be first at th’ cache, an’ thot mabby we'd

have t’ foight yez f’r th’ goold, so on’y wan man was

left on our schooner, most av th’ b’ys goin’ along t’ take —

part in th’ foight.”
‘

%

     

tht sl aS eS il aa NR Es AN ok EI gan
   
  
  

 

thrick, an’ he fooled yez.”

LN PE U ANA IG on pastes FMI perce oy

planned.

ever get the

 

Those av us thot was left
n’ scatthered, firi e wint. In

ightened mesil 1 oy throwin’ away

q
0)
/

oo

5 55 : Ce ieee ay
me guns. ae 2 fr th’ two av yez, this blissid minyit
I’d be a gone Irishma

e

“Ye desarved all thet was comin’ ter ye, Muldoon, an’
which yez didn’t git,” snapped Nomad.
“IT belave yez, but what’s a poor Irishman t’ do? Tell

me thot!’
A little later the two pards and Muldoon came to the

scene ghting. Four forms lay sprawled out on

the ground, gruesome shadows in the thickening gloom,

The forms had been rifled of everything of value, and
all the guns and ammunition had been taken.

The Chinamen who had chased Muldoon had evidently
come back and warned the rest away. Not one of the
Hatchet-boys was to be seen.

“Which of these men was your leader ?”

Bill, indicating the four lifeless forms.

asked Buffalo
“This wan,” answered Muldoon, kneeling down and
turning one of the forms face upward. “Shtroike a
match, Buffalo’ Bill, an’ mabby yez’ll raymimber th’ fel-
low.’

The match was struck, held over the face of the slain
man, and Buffalo Bill and Nomad both looked. Then
Nomad jumped back with a yell, and the match dropne
from the scout’s limp fingers.

“Darrel!” cried the astounded Nomad.

“Tt can’t be Darrel,” returned the scout,
resemblance is almost perfect.”

“Faith, Buffalo Bill,” said Muldoon, “yer pard has
called th’ turn. It is Dirk Darrel, th’ gambler from
Nugget Notch; an’, by th’ same token, yer mortal inimy.”

“and yet, the

“No, no, man,” returned Buffalo Bill, “it can’t be.
Why, Nick and I saw the fellow buried, in a defile west
of Wagon Wheel.”

“An’ ut’s mesilf, Buffalo Bill, as saw this same Darrel
dug oop, an’ brought t’ loife by th’ Hindoo.”

“By the Hindoo?” asked the startled scout.
“Faith, ain’t I tellin’ yez? Darrel wasn’t dead, at all,

at all, only hypnotized. Th’ Hindoo knew how t’ do th’

fl

 

   

Bud, STORIES.

   

“Where's the Hindoo?”

“He dropped at th’
There he is,’ and
figure.

first foire, th’ same as Darrel.

Muldoon pointed out another sile

The two pards went over and examined the ae

   

 

  

 

The black celine and the black gownlike garment all
spoke of the identity. An examination of the face
proved, beyond all doubt, that it was really Hadj Mahal,

“Well, well,’ murmured the scout, rubbing a hand
across his forehead, “this takes the wind out of my sails
completely. Eh, Nick ?’

“Waugh! I never heard o’ ther like afore, -Bufiler.”
was the old man’s disgusted comment. “We was both
fooled, thar in thet cabin in ther deefile. An’ I was
aieared all ther time they was tryin’ ter pull ther woo

1

J

over our ayes somehow. I’ve had a sort er feelin’, all
erlong, thet somethin’ had slipped crossways,”

“How did Darrel know we had hooked up with Cam

Okay, Muldoon?’ pursued the scout,

mation which wou f

 

d stil

urther elar ify the mystery.

wxez il 1 mabby, thot th’

ulc
raymember, Hindoo escaped

from th’ guard-house at th’ post?” The

“Well, while he was chasin’ through th’ hills, he
Cam Okay makin’ f’r th’ Notch on a mule ; so th’ Hindoo

 

what he was goin

surmised to th’’ Notch t see

Suffalo Bill an’ Nick
Hindoo surmised they'd

brother. More by token, knewin’
Nomad was at th’ Nore th’

help th’ Okays.

“As soon as Darrel was dug oop, he began layin’
plans. Part av th’ plans was f’r me to’ jine yer ex-
plorin’-party, av so be I could, an’

carry rockets an
matches in a wather-toight case so I could signal from
th* decks av

your boat at night an’ kape t’other boat
informed as t’ where ye was goin’. But I found «
what I wanted t’ know quicker than T thought, an’ I use

th’ river-bank so thot Darrel ’u ‘d sind aff a shmall boat
an’ pick me up.”

 

“It worked well,” remarked the scout ;
plans seemed to work well
they fell through.”

“all Warrel's
—up. to a given point; then

“Mainly an’ principa ally bekase he was buckin’ ag’inst
Buffalo Bill,’ hazarded Muldoon.

“Fer oncet, Muldoon,” chimed in Old Nomad, “ye
spoke the truth,’

Nomad was walking aw

ay toward one of the other
forms. He st

tumbled over something.
“What's this that tripped me?”

Buffler,” he added excitedly, after

“buckskin bags—three of them.”

he muttered. “Bags,
a quick examination,

“We had sivin bags at th’ shtart- -out,” said Muldoon;
“th’ Chayney boys must have ¢ got aw
“We've got three bags
have,” observed the scout ;
fitting out of the expe

ay wid t’other four.”
more than I thought we'd
“that ought to pay for the
ditian: and something besides.”

 

groping for infor-;

     
  

       
  
  
 
  
    
   
   
  
   
   
   
   
  
   
    
    
   
          
       
      
    
    
   
   
   
  
    
   
    
    
    
  
   
    
   
   
  
       
  
    
 
  
   
    
   
   
  
    
  
 
     

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The re
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Darrel

 

 

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“They're of good size, Buffler;”
hey’re heavy.”

“We can carry them, I reckon, Nick.’

“Sartain, Buffler, we ain’t goin’ ter leave ’em hyar fer
her Hatchet-boys.”

“And we're not going back to the Hidden City after
he other four bags.”

“Nary; not me, anyways. I reckon, pard, thar ain’t no
oubt erbout Darrel’s hevin’ cashed in this time. He’s
pot three holes in him, ary one o’ which would snuff out
pn ord’nary man. As fer ther Hindoo, he on’y stopped
single slug, but et went through his heart.’

“There’s no doubt about it this time, Nick,” said the
scout. ‘“We’ll each shoulder a bag and make for our
pid trail from the coast. The quicker we start, the
Sooner we'll come up with Milly, and Phil, and the sailor.”

No more time was lost on the scene of the battle. A
ew minutes later the pards and Muldoon were striding
across the sandy ‘waste.

[ might as well tell yez,’
walked, “thot my real name is O’Farrel.”

“I'd already guessed it, my man,” said the scout.

“What yez goin’ t’ do wid me?”

“Take you back to Fort Apache.”

went on Nomad, “an’

said Muldoon, as they

CHAPTER XVL
CONCLUSION.

Two hours later, the two pards and O’Farrel—as we
must call him now—came up with the Okays and the
mandarin at a place on the trail ee they had pitched
d temporary camp.

It is needless to say that the Okays were both sur-
prised and delighted: surprised to learn that Darrel and
the Hindoo had met their ends at the hands of the
Hatchet-boys, and delighted that a part, at least, of the
gold had been recovered.

Cam Okay was hot for going back to the Hidden City
with the mandarin and making the Chinamen give up
the other four bags. _

“You'd better let well enough alone, Cam,” said his
brother. “If we went back to that town again, the Chinks
would probably get the best of us, in spite of our having
the mandarin.. No, my lad, our cue is to push right_on
back to the coast as fast as we can, get aboard the
schooner, and bear away for Yuma. There’s gold
enough, in all conscience. You'll be able to give up the
sea, buy a farm somewhere, and settle down.”

“An? git spliced, eh?” laughed the sailor. “It sounds
good, Phil—too good to be true.”

The return to the coast, even with the encumbrance of
the fat mandarin, was made in record time, and without

fe particle of interference.

THE BUFFALO

 

 

BILL STORIES. | 27

Garcia and Silva were found all safe, and reported
that they had had a very quiet time of it, sunning them-
selves, and sleeping, and smoking cigarros. j

The mandarin proved to be a pretty good fellow now
that he had discovered that Buffalo Bill and his friends
were in no wise connected with the other party of treas-
ure-hunters. When the scout and his friends parted
from him and his coolies, they left their canteens and
their knapsacks of food to see them safely through on
their journey back to the Hidden City. _

The scout offered the mandarin his ring. He refused
it with a wave of the hand.

“You keep him,” he grinned. ‘You one brave man;
when you like, you come to Tsang some more, show ring,
and be safe. Then you come stay with me. Huh?’

“Much obliged,” answered the scout, “but, I’ve had
enough of Tsang. How did you Chinks come to build
a town in such a place?”

“Town been there more than a thousand years. Sure.
Ship full of Chinamen blown over from China so long
ago no one can remember. Joss guide the shipwrecked -

Chinamen to that place, and they build town. Plenty
fine: town.”
“Well, good-by, mandarin,” laughed the scout. ‘Give

my regards to Ly Bing, the prayer-sayer, and tell him
for me that he’s one very fine Chink, but I don’t like the
way he conducts himself.”

Garcia bent to the oars, and the dory plunged through
the waves in the direction of the schooner. When the
latter put out through the sand-dune headlands of the
middle bay, the mandarin was leaning against the base
of the looking-glass pillar, waving his cap with the red
button.

“This is as it should be, Milly,” said Buffalo Bill. ‘It
was right about there we saw a Chinaman, when we
sailed into the bay, and it’s there we see another as we
sail out. But I’m feeling a whole lot better, this time,
than I did before.”

“All of us are, Buffalo Bill,’ smiled the girl. “Dad
will have enough money now so he won't have to stay
at Nugget Notch any more. We're going to Denver.”

“A fine place, Denver,” said the scout. “It is where
you ought to go, Milly. A girl of your stamp ought
to have more advantages than she can get in a mining-
camp.” :

A desire to have a look at Darrel’s schooner led Cap-
tain Cam to skirt the north shore of the Gulf and pass
the bay where O’Farrel said the boat had been anchored.

But the schooner was not there. It was thought that

some of the survivors of the battle might have got back
to the boat, told of the disaster, and that those aboard
had put out into the Gulf, homeward bound,

Captain Cam always had a notion, too, that the sur-
vivors who had boarded the boat might have lugged off
some of the lost treasure

; and that they were to be

 

  

. aS ol S Bi i icine caddie Siena
saa cits eine etiate ash ian omees

  

  
 

28

blamed for it, and not the Chinamen. Of this, however,

nothing was ever definitely known.

The Treasure Trove had to fight head winds all the
way back to the mouth of the Colorado, and she was
three days reaching the river; then, as if to make up
for bad behavior, the wind changed and drove them
quickly up to Yuma.

Here the two pards lingered with the Okays while the
schoner was sold, and here the treasure was. divided.
Silva and Garcia got their extra thousand pesos, and
two happier Greasers it would have been hard to find.
It is safe to, suppose that all their poor relations came
to live with them until the money was gone—for that
is the Mexican way.

Buffalo Bill and Nomad took only a very small share
of the treasure, both turning the difference between what
they got and what was due them over to Milly.

“Ye're a brick, little ‘un,’ averred Nomad, ‘an’ this
hyar i only a token of the esteem Buffler an’ me has
fer:ye.” |
The girl was erateful—so grateful that she oe her
arms around the rough old trapper’s neck and saluted his
lips with a hearty kiss. That was the first kiss Nomad.
had had since a certain Russian, whom he and Buffalo
Bill piloted through a maze of difficulties, had impressed
something similar upon his sunburned cheek. Nomad
felt like kicking the Russian, but, in Milly’s case, he
felt like asking for another,

The Okays and the two pards rode. together as far
as Wagon Wheel on the way to the Notch.
trails separated, for the scout and the trapper were
taking O’Farrel back to the post.

In Wagon Wheel they met the deputy marshal, Mar-
tin, with whom the two pards had had some exciting
times. Accompanied by Martin, the party rode out to
the hut in the defile, where Dirk Darrel had been
“planted” for something like two days by the Hindoo.

The place where Darrel had been dug up was still
open, and in the bottom of the pit was the pine box
from which the garobley had been taken.

“It’s too deep for me,” said the scout. “I never heard
of anything like this before, and if I hadn’t had proof
that it had been done, I’d not believe it.”

“The Hindoo adepts of India, I have heard,” said Mar-
tin, “practise stich things.”

“I'd hate ter hey ’em try et on me,” struck in Nomad.
“Ef a cog was slipped some’r’s, I’d be a goner.”

Next Day Buffalo Bill and Nomad left the town of
Wagon Wheel with O’Farrel, bidding good-by to the
Okays. hee
“VIL never travel with another pard like you, Buffalo
Bill,” said Phil Okay. ‘Milly and I will be in Denver
before many days, and whenever you or Nick happen
around that way you must look us up.”
“Don’t forget that, Buffalo Bill!” admonished Milly.

3

THE BURRALO ' BILE

' When Cam sent thet ter Phil,

There their

 

    

STORIES,

“An don’t forget to look me up, either, if ye ever

happen to be around where I am,” chimed in Cam Okay.

“Are you goin’ ter ‘travel back ter ther Notch on thet
mule?” asked Nomad.

“Sure,” replied the sailor.

“Then don’t fergit ter ride face to’rd his ead. an
mebby ye won't git slammed inter ther eactus.”

With this parting shot, the pards rode away, sorry to
leave such good friends as the Okays had been to them.

“She’s a. fine gal, no two ways erbout thet, Buffler,”
averred Nomad, |

“Right you are, old pard. She’s as brave a little
woman as I ever knew, and good as gold.”

“Ym glad we've finally run out thet trail o’ ther
dockyment Phil was keepin’ for his seafarin’ brother.
IT don’t reckon he had
any idee how he was loadin’ Phil up with trouble.”’

“Cam Okay didn’t realize, of course, that the fello
he knew as Black Jack was sailing under the name of
Dirk Darrel at the Notch. If Cam had known that,
he’d very soon have suspected trouble.”

“Darrel was arter thet long envelope afore et ever
come inter Cam Okay’s hands.”

“Certainly. From what Raynor told Cam, we know
now that Darrel had got a tip about the treasure buried
by Dobbins, and the other gold-hunters, from one of the
es who had put the gold-hunters out of the
way.”

“Ef thet was so, et’s blame’ queer that mandarin didn’t |

know anythin’ erbout ther treasure. I'll gamble a blue
stack thar ain’t much takes place in thet Hidden City
but what ther fat mandarin gits next to.”

“He may have known about the gold all the while
he was with us, Nick, and have kept his mouth shut
about it. That same fat mandarin, I’m telling you, is
about as sharp as they make them.”

“But ther town he lives in ain’t no thousand y’ars
old, Buffler. Why, ef thet was ther case, it ‘u’d be a
heap older’n what Santa Fé is; an’ Santa Fé, I’ve ‘heard
tell, is ther oldest town in ther kentry.”

“IT don’t know, Nick, The mandarin may be. right,

and he may be wrong, bute that’s a right smart of a

town he governs.”

“I'll never fergit ther big pagoda an’ ther marble
chair,”

“I shouldn’t think you would, Nick.” —,

“Ner ther way ye took me out o’ ther chair afore I’d
set thar too long fer my own good.”

Buffalo Bill laughed, but Nomad was in too serious a
mood for anything but—smoking. So he pulled out his
brier and fired up, ae

THE END.

The next number (364) will be “Buffalo Bill’s Waif ¢ of

the Plains; or, At Odds With the Danites.”

  

 

   

 

3 mon
4 mon
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credit

FORMON!
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ye ever
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be a

heard

right,
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iarble

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it his

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if of

 

 
 
  
 

| poacher’s list.
| hour in the covert he slips in, sets a net across a run, sends
his lurcher slinking around through the undergrowth, and
presently, with a flutter and a flop, a fine cock-bird is fast

a few years ago than it is now was that of “smoking.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

NEW YORK, April 25, 1908.

 

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MORTECROES 79-89 Seventh Avenue, New York City.

Grorce C, ‘Smirx,

 

AROUND THE CAMP FIRE.

TRICKS OF MODERN POACHERS.
As years pass on, poaching, like everything else, be-
comes more scientific. hier
The old hempen net, which the moucher.-used to hang
across a field-gate at night for hares, has given place to
one of silken cord, and the cheap bull’s-eye lantern to the
more costly but more handy electric torch.
Perhaps the most dangerous improvement, from the game

preserver’s point of view, is the substitution of the motor

bicycle or motor-car for the old-fashioned one-horse trap.
It might be imagined that the motor bicycle would be of
little use fot carrying
leyelist was arrested near a Midland town, in England, with

game, but only the other day a motor

five newly killed hares in a box behind the seat. Parisian

papers tell of well-organized gangs who raid the coverts

Inear the French .capital by the aid of apparatus worth
/ hundreds of pounds,
»jured in affrays, and who retain lawyers to defend those
“captured by keepers,

who have relief funds for those in-

Not unnaturally the pheasant stands at the head of the
If a poacher can be sure of a quiet half-

in the net, next moment to be transferred to the poacher’s

| pocket.

A method of taking pheasants which was more common
The
first essential is to discover a tree where the birds roost.
Then, upon a dark, still night, the poacher goes to the spot
armed with a handful of sulphur and the lid of an old
biscuit-box. A fire of dry leaves is lighted upon the lid, the
illumination being carefully concealed by a coat hung around
it. As soon as the leaves have blazed up, the sulphur is
flung on the flames, and the lid held up under the bough on
which the pheasants are roosting. Soon the suffocating

THE: BUPPALO BILL SPORES,

“ern desperado with a bowie.

    

29

fumes take effect. With a rustle and thump a fat bird thuds
upon the ground. One after another they drop, and with
luck the poacher may get half a dozen from a single tree,

Another favorite plan is to soak barley or wheat for some
hours in warm water. When the grain is thoroughly soft-
ened the water is strained off and strong spirit poured over
the wheat. The swollen grains absorb the spirit, and the
doctored bait is then spread in one of the glades where the
birds feed. It is an odd fact that most birds seem to like
alcohol. Pheasants are no exception. The not unnatural
result is that the finest birds—those which have secured the
lion’s share of the feast—are soon reeling about helplessly
drunk. The poacher, who has been lying “doggo” near by,
has nothing to do but jump up and wring their necks.

Another method of the pheasant-poacher deserves mention
for its very ingenuity. It owes its success to the well-known
pugnacity of the finest game-bird, A game-cock is armed
with steel.spurs of great length and keenness and dropped
where a pheasant las been observed to crow. The pheasant
will allow no rival within its domain and presently comes
strutting out of covert. Naturally he stands no more chance
than a man armed with a paper-knife would against a West-
He is killed in a few seconds.
The poacher picks up the dead bird, catches his game-cock,
and moves on in search of fresh victims.

An old-fashioned way of catching crows when they be-
come too numerous to suit the farmer was to bury in the
plow-land little conical bags of paper, the: sides smeared
with bird-lime and a bait at the bottom. The same plan
has been adopted with considerable success for the capture of
pheasants. The bait is barley and the bird, completely
blinded by the cap which clings so tightly to its Head, falls
an easy victim to man or dog.

In an open field you will often see small pieces of oe
wood stuck into the ground at intervals. These are set by the
keeper for the purpose of hooking up the nets of night-poach-
ers for partridges. Partridges roost upon the ground, and
by means of a long, light net dragged across the grass by
two men a whole covey is often captured at one Swoop.
This form of poaching is only possible on a dark night, and
at such a time the poachers cannot, of course, see the

branches, and therefore they get their nets entangled in them.

But some have nowadays taken to lining the ground-side of
their nets with some stiff glazed stuff. A net so protected
will slide over most obstacles.
Pee ca
MINNESOTA FROG-CATCHERS.

St. .Paul and Minneapolis are the largest frog-markets in
the world. This to gourmets and restaurateurs no doubt
highly interesting bit of information was given by William
J. Jamison, of Chicago, a wholesale game and _ sea-food
dealer:

“I believe there were about ue million frogs slaughtered
the last year. About seven or eight years ago no frogs
were shipped out of Minnesota. Now the businss amounts
to more than $100,000 a year.

“A wonderful industry has grown up in St. Paul and Min-
neapolis in supplying the United States with frogs’ legs.
Frogs are found in other States, of course. In the South
the supply will probably never become exhausted, but there
 

  

30 | THE BUFFALO

-are no frogs like the Minnesota product for the epicure. This
is attributed to the clear, cool water which is found in Min-
nesota’s 10,000 lakes, in which the frogs live and have their

“nests.

“The frogs breed very fast, and as it only requires a couple
of months for them to attain full size, it is easy to under-
stand how almost impossible it will be to exhaust the supply
to be found in and around the various lakes and ponds of
the State, which probably nuniber 100,000 breeding-places.
Unlike that for oysters, there is a good demand for frogs’
legs all year round, and it is necessary to hunt them in the
winter-time, when the ground is frozen to the depth of two
or three feet and the ice covers the ponds to the thickness
of front twenty-four to thirty-six inches.

“When they take to the water in the fall the professional
frog-catcher watches them and learns where they nest. He
waits until the prices are higher in the winter, and cuts the
ice over this nest, scooping out great netsful of frogs. As
many as 500 to 1,000 can be secured in one of these nests. in
good season. This keeps up the supply the year around and
makes the market,a steady one comparatively.

“The frog-catcher kills the frogs with a stick, and gathers’

them up in his bag as he walks around the various lakes and
ponds, He has no capital invested and realizes from $3 to
$10 a day for the time he is employed in the occupation. One
of the leading New York hotels has a standing order for
sixty dozen a day. Cincinnati and Chicago also have a
number of houses that have standing orders for from forty
to fifty dozen daily. They are all shipped by express, packed
in ice. The large Southern bullfrog comes in competition
with the Minnesota frog in the Southern States, but the
Southern product is not regarded as highly by connoisseurs
as the best.”

 

Hunting the American Lion,

BY DOCTOR J. G. BETHUNE.

 

Every youth has read and been told that the lion is
the king of beasts. The Dark Continent is his chosen
home, and over its burning plains and in the depths of

its pestilential jungles he roams a monarch in the animal
kingdom, and with no fear of the daring hunter who
follows him into his almost impenetrable recesses.

There can be no question that a full-grown lion, in

the prime of his mighty strength and dauntless courage,

is a terrible creature. Many a time has he advanced into
the circle of light thrown out by the camp-fire, and, seiz-
ing a man with his massive jaws, galloped off with him,
in the face of the cries and shots of his terrified com-
rades. Retiring to the gloom from which he emerged, he
has sat down and crunched his supper at his leisure, ready
to return and seize another victim whenever impelled to
do so by the pangs of hunger.

And yet, formidable as is the African lion, he has no
right to the title of the king of beasts. Other wild ani-
_ mals are stronger and braver than he.

‘The wild boar of

 

BILL STORIES.

considered alongside of his African brother.

_ men render him an object of detestation.

 

 

  

India will give no creature the path; and, backing against
a. rock, he will defy not one, but two or three leopards,
who dare not attack him. Even the famishing tiger will
not assail the wild boar, unless he sees the chance to do
so treacherously ; for those fearful tusks are like a couple
of broadswords, driven by the muscles of a Hercules.

The tiger himself is the superior in every respect of the
lion. He is more active, courageous, daring, and power-

ful. Scientific tests have proven that his strength is one-.

fifth greater than the lion’s, while in other respects he
is immeasurably his superior. The tiger is unknown in
Africa, his chosen home being the continent of Asia, and
especially India, which is the paradise of the fiercest wild
animals and the most venomous reptiles. The loss of
life in Hindustan from these pests is more than twenty
thousand annually.

Now all of us, as Americans, are patriotic and proud
of our country. We are certain that its people, its pro-
ductions, its climate, and its resources are without a rival

in the world. When we, therefore, lay claim to the pos-.

session of lions, native to the soil, we are going to in-
sist upon it, in the face of every argument; but, all the
same, we must admit that the American lion, though a
creature to be dreaded and hunted with care, is not to be
Still we
have our lions, and I am going to relate a true incident
about one of them.

This animal is peculiar to the Southwest: We never
meet him in the Northern sections, nor indeed in the
Southern and Western States, except in the portions’ I
have named. He is a lithe, powerful, and active crea-
ture, whose depredations among the cattle of the ranch-
When driven
into a corner, he will fight desperately, as indeed any

creature will, and more than one man has paid dearly

for holding him too Eheatiy. 3 ;

For several weeks the ranchers and stockmen Aba
the Pit River were annoyed by. these ‘beasts, which,
that section, are known as California lions. Upon aa
ing their herds of goats, sheep, hogs, and cattle, they
found that serious inroads had been made upon them.
Few of the full-grown cattle suffered, but the destruc-
tion among the calves caused not only annoyance, but
grave alarm.

Unless some check was found for the marauders, who
nightly grew more daring, soon there would be no do-

mestic animals left; and, since the property of the ranch-.

men lies wholly in their herds, the urgency of the situa-
tion may be understood.

Matters were thus, when Oliver Wilsey, of the firm of

Wilsey Brothers, who are engaged in the cattle-business,

rode out in the neighborhood of Round Mountain to look |
after his stock. While he was some distance off, he saw |

that something unusual had taken place. The animals

 

 

showed every evidence of great fear, and off to one side |

he qui
had n
To.
them |
ing on
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The r

   
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of the
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t wild
oss of
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S pro-
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never
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;, who
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ie side —

 

—<—

 

   
 

he quickly discovered a couple of creatures that certainly
had no business there.

To his indignant amazement, a nearer, approach showed
them to be two large mountain lions engaged in devour-
ing one of his calves. They raised their heads as he came
nearer, and then, as if they preferred the supper before
them to making a meal off of him, resumed their feast,
doubtless concluding that he was of no further account.

Wilsey had no gun with him, or he would have fired
upon them, but, by vigorous shouts, he succeeded in
frightening them off in the direction of the river. Reflect
how different would have been the result if the beasts
had been genuine African lions.

“This thing has gone far enough,” was the reflection
of the disgusted young man; “something must be done.”

Returning to his friends, he related what he had seen.
Their views coincided with his own.

“We must rid the woods of the pests,’ said one de-
cisively; “for if things go on this way much longer, we
shall have no stock left.”

“Let's clean them out entirely,’ added another.

“What's the best way to do it?’

“We'll see Dave, and get him to help.”

The speaker alluded to a friend named David Brock,
a young man who lived a few miles down the river, and
was the owner of several excellent bear dogs. He was
fond of hunting with them, and there was no doubt that
he would be more than willing to join in the sport, which
promised to be of an exciting character.

The party made their way to the cabin of Brock and
stated the situation. | :

“Vm with you,” was his enthusiastic response; “that’s
what I keep my dogs for, and they'll enjoy it as much as

33

we.

There was no time to be lost, since it was necessary to
take the trail while it was fresh. A rain or the lapse
of a few days would render the scent so cold that a long
and probably fruitless hunt would fellow.

Accordingly they made their way to the spot where the
remains of the calf lay, and the canines were ordered to
take the trail. With their noses to the ground, they cir-

cled about for a few moments, when one of them uttered
a sharp cry and was off like a shot, with the others at his
heels. They were on the track of the lions, and stirring
were at hand.

But the afternoon was well along, and while the young
men were*chasing the dogs, darkness closed about them,
and the hunt, so far as thev were concerned, was over for
the day, Brock’s experience, however, in’ hunting Cali-
fornia lions made him confident of the result.

In fact, he was so certain that he could best manage
the business alone that he was left to do so. His friends
returned to their homes, he promising not to come back
until he had completed his task.

The next morning was Sunday, but Brock felt that it

times

THE BUFFALO: BILL. STORIES.

  

31

would not do to defer the business. By the time it was
fairly light, he was running after his dogs, and they,
catching sight of their master, resumed the pursuit with
all vigor.

It was not long before they caught sight of a large
lioness, who, not liking the appearance of things, made
for her hiding-place, which was not far away. The dogs
tore after her, but would not have overtaken her had she
not shown fight just before reaching her retreat. There
was a meaning to this action on her part which Brock
suspected, though it might not have occurred to a hunter
of less experience than he.

The lioness waited until her canine foes came up and
assailed her, when she cuffed them right and left like so
many cubs. They were persistent, however, and darted
at her again as fast as they could Fol over and leap to
their feet.

The hunter might have sent a bullet among the party
that would have been likely to end the business; but such
a course involved the risk of killing one of his dogs»for
all the animals were so quick in their movements, and
were so mixed together that it was hard to secure an ac;
curate aim. Even if he should hit the lioness, it was
almost impossible to kill her instantly. The consequence
would be that she would be driven to such a pitch of
fury that she would rend her assailants to pieces. She
was holding her own very well as it was without being
incited to do any better or worse.
titled to some consideration.

Meanwhile, Brock was not idle. He saw that the one
effective method of bringing matters to a focus was to
get between the beast and the cave in which she made
her home. He lost no time, therefore, in working around,
beyond her, so as to shut off her retreat.

The lioness kept her weather eye on him, and he had
hardly reached the point for which he was aiming, when
the enraged creature turned her back upon the dogs and |
came for him like a cyclone. This was precisely what
the hunter anticipated, and for which he was prepared.

The course of Brock in this crisis was unique’ and’so
far as I know original with himself. He held a trusty
rifle in his hand, and yet attempted to make no use of it, —
Facing the animal, he stood perfectly motionless until
she was almost upon him. Then, like a flash, he dodged

to one side, and she, unable to’ check or turn in time,
passed a few paces beyond. As she wheeled he fired,~..

and she fell dead with a bullet through her heart.
Assisted by the dogs, Brock now made an examination
of the den near at hand. Among the leaves, sticks, and
boulders, ne came upon three young lions about the size
of half-grown cats. They were little spitfires, and fought

‘The canines were en-

so desperately that they would have given the dogs con-
siderable trouble to overcome them, but Brock, with no
little patience and skill, mastered them at last, and car-
ried them to his home as trophies of victoty. Although
the lions of the vicinity had not been exterminated by
any means, one family was pretty effectually broken up.

  

 
 

 

  

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For sale by all newsdealers, or sent, by the publishers to any address upon receipt of price in money or postage stamps

 

 

HERE ARE THE LATEST ‘TITLES:

331—Buffalo Bill and the Indian Queen; or, The Ghost
Flower’s Mission.

332—Buffalo Bill and the Mad Marauder; or, A King
For a Foe.

333—-Buffalo Bill’s Ice Barricade; or, The Red and
White Renegades of Powder River.

334—Buffalo Bill and the Robber Elk; or, The Mail
Seekers of the Range.

335—Buffalo Bill’s Ghost Dance; or, The Thrall of the
Lightning That Strikes.

336—Buffalo Bill’s Peace Pipe; or, The Casket of Mys-
RELY,

- 337——Buffalo Bill’s Red Nemesis; or, The White Captive

of the Sioux.

338—Buffalo Bill’s Enchanted Mesa; or, The Lost Prin-
cess of the Moquis.

339—Buffalo Bill in the Desert of Death; or, The
Secret of the Jasper Joss.

340—Buffalo Bill’s Pay Streak; or,
‘Trouble for. the ~° Paches.

341—Buffalo Bill on Detached Duty; or, The Break on
the Bad Ax Frail.

342—Buffalo Bill’s Army Mystery; or, The Rope-and-
Catamount Puzzle.

343—Buffalo Bill’s Surprise Party; or, The Red Raiders
of the Picketwire.

344—Buffalo Bill’s Great Ride; or, The Capture of
Handsome EIk.

345—Buffalo Bill’s Water Trail; or, The Still Hunt at
Fort Totten.

346—Buffalo Bill’s Ordeal of Fire; or, Trapped in the
Coteaus, \

A Box Full of

\
\

 

347—Buffalo Bill Among the Man-Eaters; or, The Mys-
tery of Tiburon Island.

348—Buffalo Bill’s Casket of Pearls; or, The Lost Treas-
ure of the Montezumas.

349—Buffalo Bill’s Sky Pilot; or, The Fiesta Tangle.

350—Buffalo Bill’s “Totem”; or, The Mystic Symbol of
the Yaquis.

351—Buffalo Bill’s Flat-boat Drift; or, Taming the Mis-
sissippi Tigers.

352—Buffalo Bill on Deck; or, The Strange Pilot of the
River Belle.

353—Buffalo Bill and the Bronco Buster; or, The Raid
of Wolf Fang.

354—Buffalo . Bill’s Great Round-up; or, Trailing the
Red Cattle-rustlers.

355—Buffalo Bill’s Pledge; or,
Narrow Path.

356—Buffalo Bill’s Cowboy Pard; or, Hoofs and Horns
on the Chisholm Trail.

357—Buffalo Bill and the Emigrants; or,
Captain of the Wagon Train.
358— Buffalo Bill Among the Pueblos; or,
Hunt of Professor Bings.
3590—Buffalo Bill’s Four-footed,Pards; or, Trailing the
Ute “Shiners.”

360—Buffalo Bill’s Protégé; or, Foiling »a Nihilist Plot.

361—Buffalo Bill Ensnared; or, The Witch of the Painted
Desert.

362—Buffalo Bill’s Pick-up; or, The Secret of the Hat
and Dagger.

363—Buffalo Bill’s Quest; or, The Hidden City of the
Hatchet-boys.

The Vultures of» the

The Black

The Still

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