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- Tesued Weekly. By subscription $2.50 eT year. Entered as Second-class Matter at the N. VY. Post Office, by STREET & as 19-89 Seventh Ave., NV. Y.
Copyright, 1910, 6y STREET & SMITH. yu

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DEVOTED T0 nono LIFE

 

 

: “No. 195.

NEW YORK, November 5, 1910,

Price Five Cents. .

 

Buffalo Bill and the Red lorse Hunters:

OR,

PAWNEE BILIVS PERIL.

 

By the author of “BUFFALO BILL.”

 

&
CHAPTER. 1
MUSTANGS IN A DUEL.
_A shrill, fierce scream broke on the ears of the man on
the mule. There was nothing human about the sound;

»,- of this the traveler was sure.

“Voa, vonce, Toofer!” said the man to the mule, with
a startled jerk at the reins. “Vat it iss I don’d know,
und it iss pedder dot ve go a leedle shlow, ondil ve findt
oudt somet’ings.’

The man, as this ragged English would indicate, was

a Dutchman : and the way he had named his mule pointed

indubitably to the fact that he was Villum von Schnitzen-
hauser, otherwise “The Baron,” some time a private: in
the army of the Kaiser and a member of the Order of
the Double Eagle.

Better still, however, he was a devoted follower of that
prince of plainsmen, Buffalo Bill, and of that dashing

_ young king of the boomers, Pawnee Bill.

At the moment when that peculiar sound reached the

baron, he was riding along a shallow draw toward an
" The angry scream echoed, out from Poe ao
thicket of hackberry bushes.

Toofer, the mule, had tossed up his head and thrown
his ears: forward.

“You vas oxcidet yourseluf, eh?” inquired he baron
“Vell, dot makes no nefer mindts.

 

some Oxaminations.

I leaf-

4

you here, und I go on aheadt mit meinseluf und maké

avay, huh? Py shinks, I fix you so you don’d run, any-
vays.”
Cautiously dismounting, the baron pulled.the reins over

- Toofer’s head, then looped and buckled them around the

gnarled stem ‘of a paloverde. The next moment he was
carefully forcing his way through the hackberry bushes.
Beyond the thicket was an uprooted cottonwood tree.
From the farther side of the fallen tree came a restive
thumping of hoofs, and through the branches the baron
caught glimpses of the moving forms of horses.

“Dere iss somet’ing keveer aboudt dis,’ mused the
baron. “I ged pehind dot tree, und den I see pedder.”’

A few moments later he was ensconced in branches of
the fallen cottonwood and peering through the dead limbs.

The bottom of the arroyo was as level as a floor, and
not more than one hundred and fifty.yards across. In the
middle of the valley were two bands of wild mustangs,
drawn up in irregular but distinct lines. They were sep-
arated by two or three rods of open ground. Between the
lines, noses to the ground, trotted a couple of stallions,
one pure white and the other a sorrel.

. That white stallion was the handsomest horse the abe
had ever seen. Most mustangs are small-in size, but this
stallion was of good size and perfectly proportioned. His

You vill be a good mu-el vile I vas.

 

te

  
   

2 fo es

ve

THE BUFFALO

-ancestry—like the ancestry of all the wild horses in

_ America—dated back to the Arabian horses that strayed

| gered.

a bulldog.

from the camp of Coronado in 1540, and he had the
slender legs, the Mowing mane and tail, and all the fire
and spirit-of the true Arabian stock. —

The sorrel was somewhat smaller, but fully as wiry
and as lightninglike and graceful in his movements.

Here was a battle royal between rival stallions, with
the baron as the only human witness. As it happened,
the baron was to leeward of the set-to, which fact pre-
vented the horses catching his scent and making off in
a. body. DRA) ge :

As the baron watched the two stallions, a curious cir-
cumstance was brought to his attention: There was a
noose about the neck of the white mustang, and the rope
trailed away for thirty feet, and was fastened to the horn
of a saddle. As the white horse moved,the rope and the
saddle moved with him. The spirited animal, however,

paid little attention to the dragging saddle, his every: at-

tention being focused on his sorrel enemy.

The white horse was a full hand taller than his antag-_
onist, but the sorrel made up in breadth what he lacked
in height, being the closer built of the two. =

Back and forth in front of his own band each of the

“stallions trotted, a distance of some twenty-five feet sep-

arating them from each other:. The mares and fillies

seemed to take only a passive, interest in proceedings.

Then, all at once, the sorrel threw up his head and made
a spring. Tis ee iG

But if the sofrel was. quick, the albino was quicker.
Whirling his white body around as though on a pivot, the
larger horse. let fly his hind feet, catching the sorrel
squarely in the head with both hoofs. |

The blows fell with terrific force, and the sorrel stag-
When he recovered himself and leaped back,
blood was''streaming from his mouth. An old buckskin
mare, whose pointed ears and frosted front indicated ex-
treme age, gave vent to a whine of sympathy. for the
sorrel. nd 9 :

There had been only a moment’s lull in the battle. Both
horses were made of India-rubber and whalebone, and the
sorrel quickly regained the mastery of himself.

Emboldened by success, the white stallion tindertook
offensive tactics. Lunging forward, his white teeth

flashed as he tried to secure a hold on the sorrel’s throat.

The sorrel, however, slipped out of danger cleverly by
executing a half wheel on his hind toes. As he spun
around, he fastened his teeth in the albino’s ribs.

This manceuvre, which seemed so. auspicious for the
sorrel, in the end came near proving fatal. The white
mustang, foiled at first in his snap at his antagonist’s

‘windpipe, managed, with a corkserew-like twist of the

body, to get a neck hold.

The baron was carried away by the fierce combat.
He loved nerve and prowess, and these fighting brutes.
were exemplifying those qualities at their best. It was
with difficulty that he smothered back his shouts of en-
couragement. oy

The sorrel lost his hold, but the albino hung on like

There was another brief lull. So far honors were

even. A crimson stain was gathering on the panting side.

of the white mustang, and the mouth and throat of the

When the white stallion was finally thrown ~
off, the sorrel was bleeding profusely from an ugly
wound in the throat.

BILL STORIES.

sorrel were giving him trouble, Yet neither of the horses -
was in visible distress. .

“T bet: someting for nodding,” murmured the baron
“dot vite horse as got der odder shkinned a mile.
now. . Pooty soon ve see vat ve see.”

Once more the sparring for advantage began. ‘The
rival stallions came into the fourth round on their hind
legs, striking savagely with their foreteet. Bach made
an attempt to get at his enemys ¢hroat, but mi
Hoofs, front and’rear, and teeth, were used tdiscrin
inately, and in rapid succession, Neither animal, how-
ever, gained an advantage, and the battle raged for all
of a quarter of an hoyr. Some of the time the fighting
was so close in, and’ so-swiftly done, that the baron couk
hardly follow it with, his’ eyes,’ oes

Then suddenly the sorrel secured a hold on the other's
withers. He not only hung there, but he also threw one
leg over the albino’s back, thus forcing the white mustang
to bear his weight. oe,

This was a cunning trick, and had been ably carried
out. Around and around, in great desperation, the two
mustangs fought. Their breathing was loud and sl
Once they brushed the tips of the cottonwood’s branches,
in which the baron was lying concealed.

The white horse was making furious efforts to <is-
lodge the sorrel, and the sorrel was hangig on like a
leech, following his enemy on his hind feet.

It was only with the expense of much strength that th
white mustang was finally able to dislodge the other.
For some little time after this the sorrel appeared to be
having the best of it. The albino retreated warily, a
the sorrel pressed him hard. The sorrel seemed to t
that the albino was weakening rapidly, ‘and was deter-
mined to give him no chance to recuperate.

The albino, yielding ground inch by inch, was borne
back among his band of mares, knocked about mercilessly
by the sorrel. :

“IT don’d like dot, py shinks!’ muttered the baron.
“Dot vite feller iss der pest horse, I bed you. Vat's
der madder mit him dot he don’d go afder dot sorrel
cayuse? I vould yell oudt loudt oof I vasn’t afraidt dot
all der horses vould get scared oudt und leaf on der run.
Now vat iss to habben ?’’ ae

The sorrel looked like a sure winner, and it seemed
only a matter of time until the white would have to stc-
cumb. The sorrel’s manner was triumphant, almost

 
 

 

  
 

  
  

- contemptuous» for he appeared able to find the body of

his white adversary at will with his cruel hoofs.

Then, having evidently made up his mind to ceas¢
playing with his foe and bring the battle to a quick term!-
nation, the sorrel caught the albino by the throat to give
‘him a coup de grace. a

And right then and there began one of the mgst won-
derful demonstrations of brute craftiness the baron had
ever seen ee

Rising on his hind hoofs, the albino fell backward,
sprawling. It looked as though he was at the end of his
rope, and down and out.

But no. That fall was merely to break the sorrel’s
hold. It succeeded. ; :

The white was down for an instant, and the sorre!
reared high to descend on him like a thunderbolt with
forward hoofs. ta

Then the albino rolled over. It was quick—quicker
‘than thought—and the sorrel’s hind legs were knocked
out from under him. ae bie

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The sorrel fell in a heap, no doubt a mightily surprised
mustang. The fall hurt him, there could be no possible

doubt about that. He was slow in rising, and the albino ,

lurched erect, and gave the sorrel just what the sorrel
had been planning to give him, viz., the finishing touch.

The albino reared and came down on the prostrate
sorrel again and again. Every time the sorrel attempted
to rise, his wily foe prevented him. His gasps and efforts
to breathe tore into the quiet air. He fanned the air with
his feet, rolled over on his back, and beat his head
against the ground.

The baron could no longer restrain himself. With a
yell he burst from the branches of the cottonwood; and

: phen, in an instant, the whole drove whisked away Bw
et

he arroyo and made off—even the sorrel regaining his
feet and following.

All that was left on the scene.of the combat was a_

thirty-foot length of trampled rope, with a badly dilapi-
dated saddle and war bag.

During the fight, the albino had, in.some manner, con-
trived to free himself of the trailing saddle.

CHAPTER II.

SADDLE AND WAR BAG.

~The town of Half-a-Chance might be aptly described’

as half a dozen mud houses stuck on the side of a hill.
When the houses were put up, and the builders. realized
that they suggested a town, some one remarked that, if

- it was a town, it didn’t i more than half a chance to

amount to anything, but for all that it ought to have a
name. So, happily, the builders of the adobes hit upon
‘the name of ‘Half-a-Chance.” True to the forecast of
one of the founders, the town had never amounted to

. anything, and never would amount to anything.

In that arid country, a source of water supply is usually
considered ample excuse for a site for a town. Half-a-
Chance had the water supply. A spring trickled out of
the side hill and rilled away to the bottom, flowed half
a mile through a fringe of mesquite bushes and then
sank incontinently into the dry sand.

The men who had founded Half-a-Chanee were gold
miners. Crescent Hill, on whose slope the town seemed
balanced and in imminent danger of falling off, was a

bare, bleak, granite uplift. A freak of nature had filled ©
all the crevices of the hill with placer gold. Armed with.

a long iron bar, the hunters after the yellow metal
prodded and gouged at the seams in the rock and fished
up many nuggets—some of them of large size and great
value.

In due course the hill had been worked over from base
‘to crest, up and down and sidewise. No more nuggets

appearing, the miners promptly shelved their gold dig

ging and went into cattle.

The cattle had to roam far and wide to secure the
sustenance necessary to keep life in their bodies. After
two years of this precarious existence, they were driven
to mesas rich with gramma grass, fattened and sold for
beef. Slowly but surely the gold hunters were waxing
independent. One of them had already left for the mys-
terious country known as “the East’. to marry at fifty
and settle down where money would buy greater ease if

not more content. “i

THE BUPPALO. BILL STORIES. 3

   

In leaving Half-a-Chance, the man who had enriched
himself and emigrated, left behind him one of the half-
dozen mud houses already mentioned. So when Buffalo
Bill, Pawnee Bill, old Nomad, the baron, and Little
Cayuse came to the town, the use of the empty house
was offered them in lieu of other accommodations.

Enough furniture had been left in the adobe to serve

the simple needs of the pards. They had not planned to
‘remain in Half-a-Chance more than two or three days,

anyhow. An old compadre, Wild Bill, had requested
them to come to the town and.meet him there. Already
the pards had been in Half-a-Chance four days, and
Wild Bill had neither appeared nor sent any exctse for
his absence.

As usual, under such conditions, old Nomad and the

baron had become restive. The baron eased himself of

the strain of impatience under which he was laboring by
meandering through the hills looking for excitement. Old
Nomad found his excitement in the house of one of the
cattlemen, playing his favorite seven-up,

On the evening of the fourth day of their sojourn in

Falf-a-Chance, Buffalo Bill and Pawnee Bill sat over-

their pipes, out in front of their shanty. Nomad was
playing cards on the other side of the town, and the

baron had not yet returned from his exploring tour

among the hills. As for Little Cayuse, he was busy with
an incantation out by the ¢orral—conjuring with his best
medicine for an early arrival of Wild Bill.

“Have you been making any guesses about the Laramie
man, necarnis?” inquired Pawnee Bill.

“A few,” was the scout’s reply.

“I wish you would open them %ip for me—I’m some
stumped myself. We get word, at Tombstone, that pard
Hickok will meet us here—that he’ ll probably be waiting

for us when we arrive. Well, we’ve been here four days,

and haven’t seen hide nor hair of Hickok.”
“He has been delayed.”
“Why hasn’t he let us know why, and when to expect

Shine -

“Maybe he’s not in a position to ae a, messenger.”

“All of which leads up to a thing that has been taking
shape in my mind,” said Pawnee Bill, and broke off long
enough to go into the crown of his Stetson for a cigar.

The scout laughed.

“Which shows, Pawnee,”
making some guesses yourself, and are not so_ badly
‘stumped’ as you let on.’

“On-she-ma-da!” chuckled Kulux-Kittybux, “I’m a
wild guesser sometimes, but here’s what’s been suggesting
itself.. Wild Bill Hickok wouldn’t have called us here
to this quiet and peaceable settlement for a picnic or ‘a
pleasure jaunt, would Be a

“That’s not his way.”

“No more it isn’t. Well, then. If we were called here
on business, it must have Héen business that the Laramie
man doesn’t think he can handle alone.”

“Check, Pawnee.”

“Maybe it’s business that has got Wild Bill on the hip
and has sidetracked him. There’s a chance, that his ab-
sence and his silence mean that he’s in trouble; and, if
Hickok is in trouble, why are we loafing around Half-a-
Chance?” © -

The scout leroeed the ashes thoughtfully out of ‘his
pipe against the side of his chair.

said he ‘that you’ve been

“There’s meat in that coconut you just shook down, °
you J

 

    

   
  
   
  
  
  
  
  
  
   
    
 
  
   
  
 
 
  
 
    
  
   
    
   
  
   
  
    
  
   
   
  
    
  
   
 
   
  
  

 

 
   
 

THE BUFFALO

4

Pawnee,” he remarked, after a while, “but I don’t see
what we're going to do about it. We don’t know where
Wild Bill is coming from, nor from how far away. His
message, delivered at Tombstone, was characteristically
- brief. We don’t know when or where it was written.
The message passed through at least three pairs of hands,
and the half-breed who gave it to me couldn’t fell us
much abotit the other two men who had had it before
him. That message may have been a month old——’

~ “An-pe-tu-we! > But Hickok hasn’t been here, ne-
carnis,” a es

“Right. I’m merely trying to show how we're all at
sea, and how difficult it is for us to do anything but wait
and hope that Wild Bill will come. If he’s im trouble, and
we go blindly out trying to locate him and his trouble,
knowing as little-as we do, the chances are alout nine
out of ten that we'll get away from our present base, and
that Hickok will either come, or send for us, while
gone.” *

“One of our outfit could stay. here

“There you are! And it, Wild Bill needed our entire

outfit in his work, the one who stayed in Half-a-Chance
would lose valuable time getting us rounded up. I reckon
we'd better wait a day or two longer.”
“You win,’ said Pawnee Bill. “We’re tucked away in
an obscure corner of nowhere, and waiting for the big
Perhaps to cross trails with us. It isn’t a satisfactory
situation, but it’s the best we can do. Now, if we .
he broke off suddenly.
exclaimed. ‘‘Here’s the baron, back from the hills two
hours after supper.’

The baron had cofme around the corner of the house
€rom the direction of the corral, He carried a saddle
over his shoulder and a war bag under his arm. Little
Cayuse was following him with another saddle, and also

a bridle. :

“Hoop-a-la!” clamored the baron.

“Boshu nechee!” laughed Pawnee Bill.
baron eee

“You bed my life,” declared the baron, “aber I got
someting on my mindt vich makes it imbossible to eat
‘ondil I shpeak it oudt.”

He laid down his two burdens.

“What's on your mind, baron?” asked Buffalo Bill.

"Vat yous ume r .

“Pass the ante. Guessing what you think is a mighty

hard proposition.”
» “Vell, I see me a fighdt pedween two vild horses, py
shinks! Vone iss vite, und der odder iss sorrel, und der
¥ vite horse licked der sorrel schust ven I tink der sorrel
horse iss going to lick der vite vone.. Ach, vat a fighdt
it vas” ae fi |

“That isnt the first wild mustang fight that ever hap-
pened, baron,” suggested Pawnee Bill, “1 don’t see any-
thing very exciting in that.” ~ ae ae

“Vell,” went on the baron, ‘‘dot vite horse had a rope

 

+9

 

 

->aroundt his neck, py shinks, like vat somepody had tried

to lasso him. Yah, so! ‘Und dere vasa sattle tied py der
rope, mit a var pag tied py der sattle.”
This aroused interest in Buffalo Bill and Pawnee Bill,
“An-pe-tu-we!’”’ exclaimed the prince of .the bowie.
“Some one had tried to rope the mustang and had lost his
saddle. It couldn’t have happened very long before the

baron saw the fight, for it don’t take a wild mustang long
to
i

get rid of a thing like a rope.”

 

we're

“Shades of ne-be-nau-baig!” he »

“Hunery,

BILL. STORIES.

“That’s right,” agreed the scout, “Go on, baron.
Your story is getting interesting.”

“Vile der fighdt vas going on,” pursued the baron, “der
rope come oof der vite horse; und ven der horses ran
avay mit demselufs, I picked oop der sattle und der var
pag und prought dem along. Shtrike a match und Icok
yonce. Meppe you see somet’ing surbrising, bards!”

The scout struck a match, leaned forward, and held it
over the saddle. An “H” was carved on the saddle horn,
Astounded, the scout grabbed up the saddle, bore it into
the house, and examined it more closely with the aid of a
lighted candle. .

The others followed him in, Buftalo Bill turned to
them, his surprise showing in his face and manner.

“This is mighty strange, pards!’’ he exclaimed.
saddle belongs to Wild Bill Hickok! I know it as
as I do my own.”

“Und look here vonce more,” piped the baron, pushing
the war bag into the scout’s hands. »

“That’s Wild Bill's, too,” declared the scout.

“Yah, you bed you!” exclaimed the baron, “I know

aboudt der sattle und der var pag, py shiminy grickeds,

os
+ 4S

well

   

und dot’s vy I pring dem in. Vere you tink iss Wild Pill, -

hey?”

CHAPTER III.
THE BROKEN ARROW.

11

The scout unbuckled the straps over the mouth of t!
war bag and dumped its contents out on the floor.
was a small supply of rifle and revolver ammunit
piece of jerked beef, a few simple “first aid” supp
and, last but not least, the long, lean head of an arrow,
with about four inches of haft attached.

“Deserted Jericho!’ exclaimed Pawnee Bill, stooping
and picking up the broken arrow, “what was the Laramie
man doing with this in his war bag? It’s an Apache
token, necarnis, and the steel head has been steeped in
rattlesnake venom. A pretty keepsake, I must say.”

“Not a keepsake,” returned the scout. “It’s in the
bag by a happenchance, and spells trouble—perhaps des-
perate trouble—for Hickok.”

“How sor’

Buffalo Bill picked up the war bag, and
rent in the side. The bag was made of beaverskin, and
the arrow. had gouged its way through. :

“The point of the arrow,” said the scout, laying his
finger on the rent, “passed through there. The part ol

   
  

the haft that remained outside the bag was broken off.’
Pawnee Bill looked grave. iy
“Himmelblitzen!” exclaimed the baron. ‘Has Vild

Pill peen in a fighdt mit der Inchuns? Or dit some In-
chun feller put der arrow indo der pag vile it vas being

*tragged along mit der sattle py dot vite horse? Tell me
dot.”

“Why should an Indian shoot at the bag while the
horse was dragging it?’ demanded Pawnee Bill. “The
Laramie man was on his horse when that arrow went
into his war bag. That’s the plainest kind of a case.”

“Let’s begin at the beginning while we’re trying to fig-
ure out what happened to Pard Hickok,” said: the scout,
pulling up a chair close to the table and sitting down.
‘There's a lot about this that we ought to know, and our

wv

pointed to a.

  
  

    
   
 
  

 

 

 

  

 
 

 

sources of information are rather meager.

}

t

THE BUFFALO

W here did
those two mustangs have their set-to, baron 2”
“Dot vas in vone oof dose arroyo blaces,
the baron, “sooch a vide blace mit a lefel floor.
know der name oof dot arroy6.’
“How far is it from Half-a-Chance: rae
“Meppe fife mile.” , e
oHave’ miles’? The scout ad to Pawnee. Bill.
“Pard,’ he went on,
tang could travel and drag that saddle?”
“Not far, necarnis,” answered the prince of the bowie.
i The rope would be ‘frayed and broken in a mighty few
miles of going through rough country; and then, too, the
mares in the band would have been apt to get tangled up
in the rope or to step on the saddle. The war bag was
tied to the cantle, eh, baron?”
“Yah, so, Pawnee. Der pag vas tied: py a catitle.”
“The bag, necarnis,’ went on Pawnee Bill, “couldn't
have lasted long at a cantle with, the mares racing be-
hind.”
“Not more. than five miles, at the outside?’ cae ied
the scout, . ‘
“T shouldn’t think so,”
“Then,” deduced Buffalo Bill, “we reach the surpris-
ing knowledge that Wild Bill, some time since noon, has
been within ten miles of Half-a-Chance!’ é
“Shades of Unk-te-hee!”. muttered the prince of the

99

answered
I don’d

bowie.

“Shiminy Grismus!” gasped the baron.
eid’ put in Little Cayuse. ,
The scout’s deduction was logical, there was no get-
ting around that, but the conclusion at which he arrived
was so startling that it took the breath of his pards,

“Within ten miles of us,” said Pawnee Bill, “and he had
a row with the Apaches! I haven’t heard anything about
the Apaches being ‘up.’ Must have been some roaming
band of redskins taking the warpath on their own hook.”

“He got away from the reds,” said the scout.

“How iss dot?” asked the baron.

“He roped that white mustang -and

“Meppe he roped der vite mustang sues he hat der
row mit der Inchuns.” i

“You don’t understand, baron,’ said the scout, patient
as he always was with his Dutchépard. “Wild Bill
couldn’t have roped the stallion before he had the row
with the Indians, because the roped horse pulled so hard
he broke one of Pard Hickok’s, saddle cinches and took
his saddle and war bag. The poisoned arrow was fired
at Hickok while he was on his horse; so, you see, he
roped the oe mustang after his set- to with the reds.”

oN al so.

“Here’s a point, necarnis,’ put in Pawnee Bill. he.
cording to your theory—and I must say that it seems the
only theory that accords with the evidence—Hickok was
unhorsed by the white mustang after he had got away
from the prowling Apaches. He lost his saddle, but not
necessarily his horse. If he was only ten miles from here
he could have ridden to Half-a-Chance hours ago; even
if he had lost his horse he could have walked to the town
and been here long before now. ,The question 1s, » why
isn't he here?’

“Something,”

P

the puzzled scout answered, “has ee

-pened to detain him.”

“And that something, Pard Bill,’ avert ed the pai of

the bowie, “must have been Indians.”
®

“how. far do you think a wild mus-_

sa ca aaa ee a RR aa aT ER ON EE RON PS RTT PETE

BILL STORIES. : Ce

“Wuh!” seconded Little Cayuse.

At that moment a step crunched the sand outside the —

door, and old Nomad stepped into the room.

“Did I hear some un say ‘Injuns?” inquired the old
trapper,

“Charge that to me, pard,” answered Pawnee Bill.

“What erbout Tnjuns : Ry

“Look at this, Nick,”
war bag. “Did you ever see it before?’

“Et’s Hickok’s!” exclaimed Nomad,
hhyar at last?”

‘“No,, Nick, Pard Hickok hasn’t got-here,’ and with
that Buffalo Bill explained where and’ how the war bag
had come into their hands.

The old trapper listened attentively, and with deep
interest. reflected in his weather-beaten face. -As the
scout brought the explanation down to the bowie man’s
assertion that Indians must have made trouble for the

“Is Wild. Bill

Laramie man, a sudden light of understanding gleamed

in Nomad’s eyes.
“Hold yer bronks er minit, pards,’
and rushed, out of the adobe.
“Vat’s der madder mit Nomati f
“He vent avay like some shots.”

“He’s thought of something that bears on the situa-
tion,’ answered the scout.

Nomad returned presently with a cowboy.

“This hyar’s Nate Briggs, pards,”’ said the trapper.
vite works fer Lathrep, ther feller I’ve been teachin’ ther
game o’ seven-up. Now, Briggs,’ he added to the cow-
boy,‘ “you go on an’ tell my pards erbout them Injuns Be
seen.’

“Tt was this-a-way,’ said Briggs. “I was comin’ in
from’ Freeze-Out Flats, whar Lathrop’s got*er bunch o’
cows; an’ I heerd the sing of er bullet jist south o’*Yaller
Hoss Cafion. I was shore some s’prised, an’ don’t ye fer-
git.it. The. Raches*hev been peaceable, an’ I couldn’t
sabe who’d want ter throw lead at me if ’twasn’t ’Paches.
Waal, ye ort ter seen me dig through that thar cafion—
only T reckon ye couldn’t ’a’ seen me if ye tried, I went
that fast. They follered me, too, half a dozen red var-
mints. Halfway up the’cafion I passed er sort o’ nat’ral
c’ral in the cafion wall. I was goin’ so fast I didn’t hev
time ter notice much, but I seen some wild hosses in thet
c’ral.. When I’d got out 0’ ther cafion I’d left them reds
plumb behind. They was hoss hunters, red hoss hunters,
but blamed if I know why they took a shohat me, onless
they’ d got a fool. notion I was arter their stock in the

wondered the baron.

EO har
“Whereis ‘ne Yellow *Horse Cafion, Briggs?” asked

‘the scout.
“Ten mile due south.’
“Much obliged,’ said the scout.
‘“Anythin’’ more ye want ter hear?”
“Thats all.”
“Good night,”
““Mebbeso,”’ hazarded the old trapper,

said Briggs, and turned and went out.
“et was them

thar red hoss hunters as hev made trouble fer Wild Bill.’ s
“The tact that:

“Tt looks logical to me,” said the scout.
Hickok tried to rope the white mustang may have got the
horse hunters after him a second time.”

“Vy iss dot?” asked the baron. ‘“Haf der Inchuns got

some mortgages on all der vild horses? Don’d somepody
else got any righdt ketching der mustangs ?”’

‘I don’t know as to that,”

said the scout. “Briggs said

said the scout, holding up the

said he, and whirled

 

ae

ne RP

 
 

Be | THER BURPALO

that he was riding peaceably along when the reds took a
shot at him. They may have done the same thing to
Wild Bill.

he was after their captured. horses. Well, if Briggs is
right about that, when Wild Bill dropped a rope over the
head of-the white mustang, the horse hunters may have
thought that he was poaching on their own herd and
have set upon him for a second time.”

“Right,” said Pawnee Bill, with an approving nod:

“Is this arroyo where you saw the wild mustangs fight-
ing south of here, baron?” the scout asked.

Yan. sor replied the baron.

- “Could you find your way back there at night ?”

“I bet you more as a pushel oof money.”

“Then,” said the scout, rising and walking over to the
place where his belt}and revolvers were swinging from
the wall, “we'll saddle up and ride for Yellow Horse
Cafion, by way of the arroyo. Nick, while we're getting
the mounts ready, you and Cayuse call on Briggs and find
out just how to get to the cafion.”

“On ther jump, Buffler,’ answered the old~ trapper,
with considerable satisfaction. “Thar’s somethin’ doin’
at last, an’ ye kin gamble ther doin’ s won't hang fire be-
kase o’ me.

He and Cayuse left the adobe at | once.

CHAPTER Ty. f
THE EMPTY CORRAL,

There was a moon that night, and the pards’ made
fairly good time on their way_to the baron’s arroyo. They
would have made better time if the baron had arrived at
the place to which he thought he was going. He made
three attempts to reach the place, and his last throw won.

“Schust gif me time enough,” said he, ‘und I can do
anyt’ing vat I vant. Dere iss der draw down vich I come

mit meinseluf ven I hear dose vild horses making sooch «-

a row; dere iss der pushes vich I get pehind fairst, und
ofer dere iss der tumple-down tree vich I ged pehind next;
und dere, der odder site oof der tree, is vere der vite
musdang got der sorrel onyder mat.”

Buffalo Bill looked the ground over carefully—that i is,
as carefully-as he could without broad day to help him.
There was not much that he hoped to find except, pos-
sibly, something else belonging to’ Wild Bill which. had
~ been attached to the saddle.. Nothing else was found,
and the pards started from the arroyo under guidance of
old Nomad and Little Cayuse. The course toward Yel-
low Horse. Cafion led up the draw through which the
baron had come in paying his previous visit\to the arroyo.

“A word, necarnis,” said Pawnee Bill, ne stirrup
to stirrup. With the scout.

“Well, Pawnee?’ was the answer.

“Why, do you suppose, was Pard Hickok trying to rope

that white mustang : ne

“Give ‘it up.’

“Is it possible that his business in these parts has any-
thing to do with those wild horses?”

“It’s possible, yes; anything is possible. It’s Wild
Bill's nature, though, to attempt anything that comes into
his anind, and to be pretty sudden about it. He may have

tried to capture that. white mustang without any reason

‘That would account for the broken arrow in |
his war bag. Briggs says the Apaches may have thought.

BILL STORIES. oo

except that the task seemed difficult, or that the horse
struck his fancy.” ;

The baron was fairly correct in his estimate of the dis-
tance that separated the arroyo from Half-a-Chance. If
he erred at all, it was in not making the distance long
enough, for it was nearer six miles than five. Only four
miles, therefore, were left for the -pards to cover in
reaching Yellow Horse Cafion.

Unerringly the Piute boy and the old trapper guided
their pards in between the gloomy walls of the cafion. At
first very narrow and very dark from the shadow of its
towering walls, the defile widened as the pards proceeded,
and a bend in its course brought the trailing moonlight
into its depths.

“Thet thar nacheral corral, ” observed old Nomad, '
in ther left-hand wall, goin’ south, The openin’, ae
says, iS erbout twenty feet acrost, an’ closed with cotton-
wood eS an’ bresh. Et’s erbout halfway from ;

Ue! called Little Cayuse, pee in his pinto and
pointing, ‘ ‘me see um.’

The. point to which he directed the attention of the
others ~was certainly a gap in the cafion wall. The gap
had been closed, but the brush and logs were torn away.

“Tf that’s the corral,’ said Pawnee Bill, “the horses
have broken out.”

“Or else, Pawnee;’ added the scout, “the reds have
taken them to some other place. Weill take a look
the corral and make sure.” ~

Picking theit. way carefully over the débris hat had
formed the barricade, the pards passed through a natural
rock opening and into a circular “sink” some fifty feet
in diameter. The scout rode around the walls, and found
them perpendicular and of great height at every point.

The bottom of the sink was as black as a pocket, but
every foot of it was ridden over by the pards.

“Nothing here, necarnis,” announced the prince of the
bowie as the pards came together i in the Passnee leading

 

~ into the corral.

“Which means,” returned Buffalo Bill, “that the red
horse hunter@have moved, or that. their ‘captured stock
has broken down the barricade and got away. .

“Wild hosses is cunnin’, like thet,’ said old Nomad.
“They've got more sense than most animiles hes got, an’
I’ve seen ’em bust,out er*some mighty strong traps.’

“You bed my life!” declared the baron. ‘Dose vild
musdangs iss sharp as some shteel draps. Dot vite horse
iss pooty near as clefer as dot Toofer mu-el!” ~

“Did Briggs have any notion about where the horse
hunters had pitched their camp, Nomad ?” inquired the
scout. f

“Waal, Buffler,” was the reply, Briggs reckoned et
mout be clost ter ther south end o’ ther cafion, not fur
from ther place whar thet bullet was fired at him.”

“We'll hunt for the camp. If the Indians are there,
we'll find out what they have had to do with Hickok’s
mysterious disappearance, if anything, Tf thecreds are

not there, then we'll have. to wait for daylight and hunt
for them.

vIf they’re there,” said Pawnee Bill, “then it’s a cinch
the horses they had in that rock corral broke out and got
away from them; if they’re not there, then they went
away with the captured animals,”

“Exactly,” agreed the scout,

oll they went with the captured horses,” finished
Pawnee Bil, ° ‘it’s another cinch that they'll have to travel

 

 
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slow and leave a plain trail. Moving a lot of untamed

mustangs is no easy job.”
» “Whether they took the mustangs‘ with them or not,
Pawnee,’ said the scout, ‘“1f the reds are not in this sec-
tion, we've got to follow and find aaviee Bill’s life
may be at stake.”’

“Waugh! !” rumbled the old ho Nee. “Tf reckon ther red
ain't never been born thet kin git ther best o’ Wild Bill,
Anyways, we'll pull till the latigoes snap tryin’ ter find
him an’ drag him out o’ his trouble.”

Retracing their way through the opening that led from
the corral into the cafion, the pards started down the
gulch again. They were soon clear of the lower end of
the defile, and, as near as they could judge, in about the

-exact place where Briggs. was fired at by the lurking

Apaches.

At this point the pards divided, Buffalo Bill, Nomad,
and the baron moving toward the left, and Pawnee Bill
and Cayuse trailing away on the right. Both parties
were to proceed cautiously in their search for the red-
skins. If the Indians were discovered, the party making
the discovery was to return to the entrance to the canon

and meet the other party. If the deserted camp was

found, then three revolver shots were to be fired into the
ait as a signal for the other searchers.

The stretch of ground through which the search was
carried was covered by a chaparral of greasewood bushes.
The Apaches were probably. in considerable force, and,
if in the vicinity, would probably discover the scout and
his pards before the party of whites got a glimpse of
them. There would either be a fight or a foot race if the
Indians were still in the chaparral.

The scout, the trapper, and the baron dis@overed noth-
ing. While they were continuing their bootless search,
three sharp detonations. broke the silence far away to
the right.

We augh !’’ ied Nomad, “thar goes. er. signal
from Pawnee. He’s found ther camp, an’ ther reds, ain’t
thar.”

The scout and those with him made haste to join
Pawnee Bill and Little Cayuse. ei

““Here’s. where the reds were, necarnis,’ said the prince
of the bowie as the other three rode into a small, cleared
space among the bushes, “but there are no reds here
now. Look!”

Pawnee Bill had dismounted and was standing in front
of his horse. He kicked at a pile of ashes and revealed
a few glowing coals.

“They haven’t been gone more than a few hours,” re-
marked the scout. “Anything here but the remains of
their fire?”

“Not a thing.”

“Draw off into the bushes, pards,’” said the scout, “and
don’t track up’the ground nor disturb it any more than
you can help. ‘We'll wait until morning before we go
any farther with this hunt for Pard Hickok.”

Horses were led off into the brush, and a patch of mes-
quite bushes was found where the animals could forage
on the beans. Here the mounts were secured, and Little
Cayuse was left to watch them, and to make sure that
no skulking Apache tried to steal any of the herd.

Stretched out on the ground at the. edge of. the clear-
ing, with their saddles for pillows, Buffalo Bill, Pawnee
Bill, Nomad, and the baron took another look at their

_ prospects before dozing off into sleep.

 

$

BILL, STORIES. : 7

“It’s.a long guess,” said the scout, “whether those red
horse hunters have Wild Bill along with them.”

‘It isn’t their habit to bother with a white Bre
returned Pawnee Bill significantly. ,

“Snarlin’ catermounts!” ground out the trapper, “ye
don’t’ think ther pizen whelps would put Hickok out o’
ther way, do ye? All they got ag’inst him is ther fact
thet he tried ter rope thet. white mustang., Thet ain’t no
excuse fer a killin’,”

“T don’t think that for a minute,” declared Buffalo Bill.
“Pard Hickok knows Indians as well as any of us; and a

“bunch of *Paches will have to get up pretty early in the

morning if they get the upper hand of him. What I
mean to say is that some other gang besides these horse
hunters may be making him trouble.”

“Vat odder gang iss dot?” asked the baron.

'“That’s a conundrum, baron.- This matter is full of
doubts and uncertainties. There’s a chance that Wild
sill isn’t having any trouble at all, but is staying away
from Half-a-Chance to make trouble for some one else.’

“Our best bet, forall that, necarnis,’ chimed in’ the
prince of the bowie, “is the horse hunters. They made
front on the Laramie man once, and it seems reasonable
to suppose that they'd do it again, after he tried to rope
the white mustang.’

“We'll get after he Apaches with sunup,” said the -
scout;“‘and run out their trail, If they know anything
about Hickok, we'll find a way to make them tell us.”

A few hours of sleep followed. this unsatisfactory ex-
change of opinions, and from it the pards were aroused
by a shot and a shrill yell.

Buffalo Bill and Pawnee Bill were on their feet ina
flash,

“Cayuse is back: of that, necarnis!’? shouted the prince
of the bowie.

The scout did not.pause to reply. Already he was on
his way «through the chaparral, revolver in hand and
ready. Pawnee Bill hastened after him, and the rest on
the pards brought up the rear.

CHAPTER V.
THE HALF-BREED PROWLER.

From the’ level, covered with chaparral, the ground
sloped upward to the cafion entrance. As Buffalo Bill
ran through the bushes toward the patch of mesquite
where the saddle stock had been left in charge of
Cayuse, he chanced to cast'a look in the direction of the
cafion.

A man on a horse was just flying into the mouth of
the defile. As he rode, he quirted his mount furiously
and looked behind.

He was a half-breed, and wore a nondescript garb,

‘half savage, half civiliz ed. The Piute boy, on his pinto,

was pounding along in pursuit. _

‘There they go, pards!” cried the scout, pointing.
“Cayuse has stirred up a prowler. Pawnee, you and I
will chase after them; Nick, y6u and the baron stay
behind and watch the rest of the mounts.”

The scout and the bowie man did not take time to put

saddles and bridles on their horses, but twisted the picket
ropes into hackamores, and started away bareback.

“Scoot-a-wah-boo!” shouted Pawnee Bill. “We'll give

¢

 

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\

S. (2 24 THE SUEFALO

_ that lone half-breed something to think about, necarnis,
even if we don’t do-anything else.”

As the two pards darted into the cafion, they saw Little
Cayuse just slipping out of sight through a cleft in the
western wall.

The cleft resembled a V-shaped chunk cut out ‘of the
rocks, and its bottom mounted, in a gentle ascent, almost

/ to the top of the cafion wall. Buffalo Bill and Pawnee
Bill were about two-thirds of the way up the cleft when
Little Cayuse vanished over the high point. He had
hardly disappeared before a loud yell floated back to the
‘scout and the: bowie man. '

“What does that mean, Pard Bill?” cried the prince of
the bowie, a sudden note of consternation in his voice.

“It sounded like a warning,’ Buffalo Bill flung back
over his shoulder. Be

“Warnings don’t go—not when we're three to one, and
that one a breed!”

The scout went over the crest.. The next moment Bear

_Paw’s legs doubled up under him, and he and his rider
slid downward at a terrific clip. They came to a sudden,
but not very damaging, halt in a pile of soft sand,

The bewildered scout’ was able to roll clear of Bear
Paw’s thrashing heels, and Bear Paw struggled up and
got a little to one side, just as Pawnee Bill and Chick-
Chick plumped into the heap of sand.

The prince of the bowie floundered erect and leaped
to the scout’s side, and Chick-Chick snorted and twisted
himself into an upright position.

“On-she-ma-da!” gasped the bowie man. “What sort

of a devil’s slide do you call that, anyway ?”
“It’s one I wasn’t expecting, no matter what else you
call it,” answered the scout.
He looked up a steep slope, running smooth and slip-
pery for forty feet.
“Queer formation,” muttered Pawnee Bill, rubbing
one of his shins, “blamed queer. _Where’s Cayuse ?”
“Ugh,” grunted. Cayuse, thereby announcing) his pres-

~ ence and his disappointment atvone and the same time.

The two Bills turned toward him. The boy was stand-

. ing a little way off, holding Navi, his pinto, by the bridle.

“What's the last you saw of the half-breed, son?” in-

quired Pawnee Bill. “Did he shoot the chutes same as
the rest of us?”

Cayuse looked upward and pointed.
“Breed him no make um slide,” said he... “Me see mn

’ climb to top of cafion wall from top of gouge; me see

um, ai, but me already going down.
Heap bad. No like um,”

The scout, following Cayuse’s finger with his eyes, saw
where the half-bteed must have made his climb fron the
top of the V-shaped cleft. Familiar with the slide, the
breed had guarded against it, and continued his upward
climb to the top of the gulch “wall.

“The pesky ki-yi lured ug into that trap,’ declared
Pawnee Bill. “He knew, when we once hit that slide,
there'd be no stopping till we got to the bottom of it.
Fe’s made a safe getaway by now, and is probably sailing
up the cafion and laughing at us in his buckskin sleeve.
Oh, well, what’s a breed more or less, anyway ?”

“How did you flushethat bird, Cayuse?” asked the
scout, : oe

“Me hear um steal up on caballos,” answered the boy.
“Open eyes quick, see um daylight, see um.breed. Make
um yell, fire um gun, get pinto, and chase um.”

No make um stop.

BILL’ STORIES.

“Nothing to it,” said Pawnee Bill, “except a quick trip
down the slant for the scout, the bowie man, and the
Piute: We were in luck not to break a leg or two, say
nothing of our necks... Do you opine, necarnis, that breed
is any relation to the horse hunters?’

“No @pubt,”. Buffalo Bill atiswered. “He was 4
prowler, and the chances are he was-a spy.”

“Keeping tab on us?”

“On whom else?”

While the scout was talking he was studying the coun-
try around the base of the sand pile. The wall of the
cafion at that point was a ridge. The cleft. was a notch
in the ridge top, and, by their: ascent and the slide that
followed, the pards found themselves again close to level
ground and the chaparral.

“We'll go back to the Apache camp,” said the scout,
“and look around; then we'll fall to on our rations, and
then we'll begin hunting for the horse hunters. I’m get-
ting mighty anxious to run out this trail and see whether
or not it has anything to do with Wild Bill. If it hasn't,
we don’t want to waste any more time.”

The pards examined their horses. The mounts had
been scarred somewhat by their downward.slide, but the
scratches were insignificant. x

Climbing to their horses’ backs, the three pards re-
turned/slowly through-the chaparral to the place where
Nomad and the baron had been left.

“What luck?” sang out the old trapper when the te-
turning pards hove in sight.

“Why, Nick,” answered Pawnee Bill, with a laugh,
“we had the quickest little trip down a steep gouge that
you ever heard of. The best of luck, pard.”

_ “Did ye®ketch ther breed?” inquired the puzzled
trapper.

“Not so you could notice.”

“Waugh! Then whar in blazes does ther luck come
in?”

“Why,” explained the prince of the bowie, swinging
down from Chick-Chick, ‘we all reached the bottom of
that slide without a fracture. If that wasn’t luck, Nick,
what do. you call it?”

Buffalo Bill explained at greater length, and the trap-
per and the baron were given a full understanding of
what had taken place,

“What was ther spy sizin’ us up fer?? demanded
Nomad. “Whyever aire them red hoss hunters inter-
ested in us? I don’t reckon they'd keer a whoop what
we did ef they didn’t hev er notion we was lookin’ fer
Hickok.”

“Possibly, old pard,” said the scout, “that explains the
interest of the Apache horse hunters in us and our
re We'll go and survey their old camp by day-
ight.”
. Cayuse continued to watch the horses while the rest
went to the cleared space among the bushes. ‘The soil
was sandy, and showed faint moccasin prints in the vicin-
ity of the white ashes of the dead camp fire.

, “Moccasin marks heap plenty,” said old Nomad, “but
nary a boot-print.”. * i

“Which would make it appear,’ observed the scout,
“as though Wild Bill was not a prisoner,”

At the edge of the cleared space were hoofprints,
showing that the horse hunters had led up their ponies
and mounted at that point when leaving their camp.
Pawnee Bill had given his attention to the horse “sions.”

Not a horse in the bunch with shoes, necarnis,” he

   

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THE BUFFALO

announced. “If, the Laramie man’s horse was along,
we'd be able to "pick out the prints of his shod feet
Cacti Fag ee oo

The scout was thoughtful for a moment.

“If Hickok had been picked off by the reds,” said he
presently, “the red rascals would have frozen to.old Bees-
wax, Hickok’s horse. The fact that we can‘t find any
trace of Wild Bill with the party, or of Wild Bill’s horse
among the clutter of tracks, indicates that Hickok isn’t
with the gang. In view of what we have discovered, it
may be foolish for us to waste time following the horse

hunters. What do you say, pards?” ‘-

“We might as well go on and find the horse hunters,

-necarnis,” returned Pawnee Bill. “Even if Hickok don’t

need us, we can find out what-the ’Paches mean by firing
bullets at Briggs and by shapting a poisoned arrow at the
Laramie man. Those red ki-yis need some one to read
the riot act to them, and it strikes me that Pa-e-has-ka is
just the one to do it.”

“My notion to a t, y, ty,’ chimed in Nomad. ‘“We’ve

‘come this fur lookin’ fer them pizen whelps, an’ I ain’t

fer leavin’ their trail till we come up with ’em an’ hev er
powwow.” : . A

‘“Dot’s me, too,” said the baron. ‘Vat oxcidement haf
ve hat, so far, py shinks?, Nod any. I don’d go pack

-ondil I ged some oxcidement.”

“The ayes have it,’ laughed the scout. “We'll follow

the horse huriters. We'll raid our chuck bzgs before we

start, however.”
He lifted his voice and called to Cayuse. The little
Piute came‘in, bolted\a hurried breakfast with the rest of
them, and then horses were made ready and mounted, and
the party filed away along the trail left by the red men
through the chaparral. ae
This trail lead toward the entrance to the cafion.-
“They went after the mustangs in that rock-corral,
necarnis,” said Pawnee Bill. ® - t
“Tf they did,” said the scout, “we'll have an easy time
following them, ‘and should not,be long catching up.
Spurs and quirts, pards!”

“CHAPTER VI.
PAWNEE PILL’S HARD LUCK.

A wild horse, even after he has been captured, is diffi-
cult to master. Taming him is a tong and trying task,
and before he can be tamed he must be removed from the
scene of his capture to the home or the permanent camp
of his captors. This is usually. accomplished by throwing

_ him, and then tying up one forward hoof. Being com-
‘pelled to travel on three feet seems to~evercome the mus-

tang’s savage desire for rebellion. Thus hampered, he
will allow himself to be driven along a certain course.

In the cafion the scout and. his pards found hoofprints
which indicated that the red horse hunters had resorted
to this method in transferring their captured mustangs
from that part of the country to another part nearer the
Apache rendezvous. .

“Waugh!” grunted old Nomad, after studying the
trail, “them reds hev shore got a lot er them three-footed
hosses.” -

“The trail’s plenty plain,’ said Pawnee Bill, “and we
can follow it at a run.” :

%

_ party.”

     

BILL STORIES. os mo:

>

“Let’s run, then,’
lose, from now on, may count against Pard Hickok.’

The trail of the Indians led from the rock corral to-
ward the north end of the cafion. At a.gallog the pards
covered it, finally emerging from the defile afd bringing
their mounts to a halt at sight of a fresh development
among the tracks they were following.

“One Injun left ther party, Buffler,’ commented the
trapper, pointing to a set of hoofprints that broke away
from the rest. ;

‘That seems to be the size of it,” agreed tlag scout.

“The main party with the captured mustangs went
west,’ added Pawnee @pill, “and the rest ‘who left the
main party pointed east.’

“Dere iss more drouples vere der most oof der In-
chtns vent,” averred the baron. “It iss our pitzness to
follow der piggest crowd.” £

“For all that, baron,” said the scout, “it may stand us
in hand to keep track of that lone Indian. One of us
had better follow him. while the rest go on after the main:

 

“Tl chase ther pizen whelp, Buffer,” offered the old
trapper. “Ef he’s gone ter git somé more 0’ ther ’Paches,
mebbe so I kin overhaulhim an’ keepghim back.  Thet
bunch ‘ahead, ef et’s right hosstyle, is lible ter prove a
good-sized handful. Any more ’u’d be too many.”

“I think» Pawnee is the one for this job,’ said the
scout.

He had more faith in the bowie man’s-discretion in the
event that anything of an unexpgcted nature developed.

“Buenos!” answered Pawnee Bill. “Just indicate what
you want done, necarnis, and where and when you want
me to meet you in case I’m carried very far afield.”

“Use your own judgment as to what you No, Pawnee.
Follow the Indian, or capture him, or let.him go; which-
ever strikes you as being the right thing to do. I
wouldn’t bother, with the fellow more than two or three
“hours. If possible, be back here at the cafion entrance
early in the afternoon. If you have anything of impor-
tance to report, we'll be able to take action on it before
sundown. In case we're not here when you. come back,
ride along the trail we’re following.”

“Correct,” os oe

The prince of the bowie, turning Chick-Chick toward
the east, started off at an easy lope. Buffalo Bill and the
rest, putting their mounts to the gallop, were quickly
lost to sight behind an undulation of the wide plateau.

There were low hills in the Northeast, and- the tracks
the bowie man was following led him toward the hills. -

The trail was not easy to follow. In places it was
almost entirely obliterated. He had to gallop across these
gaps and pick up the tracks farther on: In other places
—often where the ground was not at all promising—the
_ Indian seemed to have taken ‘pains to leave signs of his
passage.

“Shades of Unk-te-hee!” muttered Pawnee Bill. “I

wonder if the red did that on purpose? Can it be possi- ~

ble that he wants some one to follow him? The cha-
hicks-a-cha-hicks (Indians) are maybe trying to play
snake.”

_ The prince of the bowie, however, could not make this
point exactly clear to himself. Why one of the bucks had
been detached from the main party was a mystery, but it
seemed hardly possible that he would try to coax any one
to follow him along his solitary way, If he did it at all,

b

returned the scout; “every hour we ©

 
 

  

  
   

  

 
   
  
   
  
  
 
 
  
   
 
  
  
   
   
  
 
   
    
   
    
  
  
  
  
   
  
   
  
  
   
  
  
 
 
  
   
  
  
  
   
  
     

Py
4

‘pursuers from the main trail.

10. THis BUrEAL@
it was probably to lure pursuers off the trail of the main
party. Ri. i
“Fool reasoning,” thought Pawnee Bill, “and not at
all like Apa@he notions. By cutting out one byck from
the crowd, the horse hunters could never lure a lot of
I guess there’s nothing
back of the move except a straight desire of the reds to
accomplish something connected with their business of
mustang catching,” —

The prince of the bowie followed on until he entered
a valley lyimg between two of the bleak hills which had
already attracted his attention. °

.. The uplifts were low and coverd with scant patches of,
greasewood bushes and snarled clumps of cholla cactis.

As Pawnee Bill rode into the valley, a shadow darted’
across it ahead of him—a black. shadow that threw a~
shifting gloom over an acre of ground and receded

_ swiftly. The bowie man lifted his eyes quickly to the sky.

A cloud was there, sweeping over the face of the sun.
Below the cloud was a-clear space of sky, and then a.
solid bank of clouds cléar to the horizon.

“On-she-ma-da!” muttered the prince of the bowie.
“Is it going to rain?” It rains on an average of five times
a year in this section, and from the looks of things over-
head I guess this is one of the times. I ought to have
brought a slicker.” + ee

While he was-studying the heavens, Chick-Chick had
been galloping up the little valley. Two hills thrust bluff
shoulders almost together on the left: Between the shoul-
ders was a narrow openin®. Pawnee Bill was almost op-
posite this opening when something happened—something
as startling as it was unexpected. ro |

_A wild tumult, marked by the staccato note of sharply
falling hoofs, broke suddenly on the bowie man’s ears.
Instinctively hise hands jerked at’ the reins; and’ Chick-
Chick sat down abruptly and slid in the gravelly earth.

_ Then out of the opening between the hills burst a tidal
wave of wild horses. .In the lead of the charging drove |

came one that was pure white, his long mane and tail -

snapping out behind him in the wind of his flight.

There were so many of the rushing animals that they
seemed fairly to boil out of the narrow opening.

With a dig of the spurs and a jerk at the bit, the prince
of the bowie endeavored to get out of the way of the
stampeded drove. His efforts were fruitless. In a frac-
tion of a minute the rolling wave had engulfed him, and
Chick-Chick was buffeted fiercely as the frightened mus-
tangs leaped past.

One of the mares in the band attempted to leap over

_Chick-Chick, and succeeded only in getting both forefeet

across the buckskin’s back. The knees of the mare struck
Pawnee Bill and hurled him from. the saddle.

Two horses went over him as he lay on his back on the
ground.. Springing desperately erect, he tried to frighten
the rest of the band, and to force them to eddy around
him. Yelling and waving his hat, he stood his ground
firmly. :

The animals closest to him sheered away with fright-.
ened snorts, but those farther off pressed on and literally
hurled the nearest mares against him. He was thrown
off his feet again, and the last thing he remembered for
several minutes. was seeing the balance of the herd
charge over him. aoe

When he catne to himself, the hubbub raised by the
stampeding herd had died to silence. He was lying on

%

Bi) STORIES 20

=
his back, with a throbbing head and hazg brain. By de-
grees he picked tip the chain of events where he had
so abruptly dropped it. ;

Where was Chick-Chick?

In trying to rise and look around for his horse, the
prince of the bowie discovered that he was bound hand
and foot, and that it was impossible for him fo rise.

_ What did that mean? ye

While he was ttying to figure this out, a figure stepped
to his side, laughed gutturally, and kicked him in the ribs
with a moccasined foot. The prisoner lifted his eyes.

* “On-she-ma-da!’”? gulped the bowie man. “Apaches!”

He turned his head.. Back of this: Apache were more
Apaches—a dozen, all told. The redskins were equipped
with ponies, and were armed with muzzle-loading rifles,
bows, and arrows, and lances.” One of their number was
holding Chick-Chick by the bridle, and others were look-
ing the big buckskin over with gloating eyes.

“Who you?” demanded the redskin who had punched
the prisqgner with the toe of his moccasin. f
* “Kuluks-Kittybucks, you old rat-faced heathen,’ an-
swered the bowie man. “I’m Pa-e-has-ka's pard, Pawnee
Bil:

The Indian kicked him again, and gave vent to another
chuckle. 4

“Quit that!” snapped the bowie man. “Think I’m a
football ?” ’ .

Attracted by the talk, four or five more of the red-
skims came up.

“You Pawnee Bill,” said the red who had been doing
the talking, “you compadre Pa-e-has-ka. Me no like um
Pa-e-has-ka.”

“I guess Pa-e-has-ka won’t fret himself much over
that,” scowled the prisoner. ‘What deviltry are you reds
UP TOC ae)

“All same hunt um wild caballos.”

“All same, you red scoundrel, you'd better stick to your
horse hunting and leave me alone. Hello, what's this?’

An Indian was coming down from the hills with a
lithe okatea pole over his shoulder, -At the end of the
pole hung a buckskin thong, and from the end of the
thong, secured about the neck and wriggling in: mid-
air, was one of the largest rattlesnakes Pawnee Bill had
ever seen.

The Apaches set up a howl of delight when they saw
the approaching Indian.

A tremor ran through Pawnee Bill, for he *guessed that
there was somé diabolical torture in store for him. His
face remained passive and his manner defiant, however,
in spite of his dark forebodings,

CHAPTER VII.
RAW HIDE AND RATTLESNAKE,

The clamor of the Apaches died down somewhat when
the Indian with the captured snake drew close. Standing
a few feet away from Pawnee Bil, the Indian brought
the pole around in front of him and trailed the sinuous
form of the rattler over the bowie man’s body.

The buzz of the rattles was almost continuous, but a
loop of the thong held the snake by the throat so that
it was impossible for it to bite

Seeing that the savages were ripe for the torture,

e

  

 
    

 
       
  
 

   

 

 

q
aN

|

\

unpleasant tactics with the snake is problematical.

a halt in the midst of the redskins.

  

Pawnee Bill clenched his teeth, preserved a silént de-
meanor, and remained defiant.

| ne Indians were eager to have him show some sign
“| Of fear, but ,the prince: “of. the bowie did not know the

megning of the word.

ow long the Apached would: have continued their

The

were interrupted in their work by the arrival of a cat:

breed. The breed galloped along the valley, and came to

The buck with the
pole and the dangling rattler turned away with the others
to face the newcomer.

There was talk in the Chiricahua tongue. Pawnee Bill
could not follow the talk, but from the actions of his
captors he gathered that the Apaches were displeased
with something the half- breed had done, or had failed
to do.

The half-breed slid down from the back of his horse.
He had an apologetic manner as of one trying to excuse
or defend himself.

“ The leader of the horse hunters—the redskin who had
exchanged a few words with Pawnee Bill—whirled away
and rushed to his pony. When he bounded back, he
brought with him an elkhorn whip.

Then, without indulging in any further talk, he fell
upon the half-breed, and began belaboring him with the
whip.

Swish, swish, swish! The buckskin strands hissed in
the air and cut livid welts on the breedjs face and neck,

A yell of rage burst from the breed. His hand leaped
to his belt, and he whirled on his castigator. ane he
could make a move in rétaliation, however, he was caught

~ on each side by four of the Apaches and held helpless.

.. Pawnee Bill was watching proceedings with a good

deal of interest. Unless he was greatly mistaken, this
hali-breed« was the same man who had aroused Little
Cayuse early in the morning, and had led Cayuse, the
scout, and the bowie man such a thankless chase over the
V- shaped groove in the cafion wall.

Was the half-breed just rejoining the horse hunters
after his escape from the pards? If so, what was there
in his report that had aroused the anger of the Apaches?

Pawnee Bill allowed these thoughts to drift through
his mind. While he canvassed the matter in.a cursory
way, and watched the Apaches and the half-breed, he

~ was struggling to free his hands of the thongs that bound

them.

~If he could free himself of his bonds, it would have
been possible to take advantage of the moment, gain
the back of Chick-Chick, and perhaps execute a dash that
would win freedom.

The bowie man, however, had been too securely lashed.
Strain against the thongs as he would, his efforts brought
no success. Finally he gave tp.

~The leader of the horse hunters had continued lashing
the half-breed. Tiring himself out, the Apache at last

- lowered the whip, stepped back, and shouted an order.

“The bucks who had been holding the half-breed cast

-him from’ them. “Without a word, or even a backward
look, the half-breed leaped to the back of his cayuse, dug
in with his heels, and rode at speed down the valley. A
few moments later he had vanished.

The chief of the party returned his elkhorn whip to
his riding blanket. All the savagery aroused by his pun-

ishment of the half-breed burned in his snaky eyes as he.

came back and halted at the prisoner’s side. 4

    

THE BUFFALO |

BILL STORIES oe a

“You compadre Pa-e-has-ka,” he gritted. “Me no like
um Pa-e-has-ka. “Victorio say Pa-e-has-ka and Pa- “e-
has-ka’s compadres die. Kulux-Kittybux die.”

“If this gang of red renegades: tries to wipe me. out,”
returned Pawnee Bill,
lodgé of the Long- -haired Chief.”

The Apache grunted contemptuously.

“Have the Chiricahuas dug up the hatchet aad hit the
war trail?’ went on Pawnee Bill.

“Chiricahuas do what Victorio tell um,’
Sponse.: 4

“What Victorio is that?”

“Only one Victorio, him chief.”

“An-pe-tu-we ! Chief Victorio was killed 4 in Mexico in
eighteen-eighty. You're behind the times.”

was the re-

“Victorio him alive, heap plenty. - Juh. You sabe

Juh: pF
cious cruelty. In this he was second ae to Geronimo
himself.

<oo youre Juh, ely: queried a prisoner.

“Si, Chief Juh. We catch um caballos, catch um whites
when Victorio tell us to catch um.’

He spun around on one moccasined heel and glided
back and forth with his head bowed thoughtfully.
eyes fell upon the captive rattlér, lifted to the darkening
‘sky, then dropped to the form of the prisoner. Halting
suddenly, Juh squared his shoulders, threw back his head,
and gave vent to a shrill, exultant yell.

“The red devil has thought of something,’
Pawnee Bill.

Turning quickly to his ee Juh gave some rapid-
fire orders. Two of the Apaches were armed with hatch-

nftittered

ets. Taking these from their girdles, they jumped to the ©

backs of their ponies and followed away through the
opening between the hills.

Four more of the bucks came to the prisoner, picked
him bodily off the ground and swung him across Chick-
Chick’s back. One of the redskins thereupon got into the
saddle and rode down the valley, holding the prisoner
with his left hand and manipulating the reins with his
right.

Juh, on a wiry mustang, was in the lead Nine Apaches
rode after him, one with the okatea pole sind the dangling
snake, and one leading the cayuse of the buck who was
riding with Pawnee Bill.

The prince of the bowie understood very well that he
was in a tight corner. Whether he had been lured into
a trap or not by the tracks of the lone Indian he was un-
able to determine. Nevertheless, a trap had been sprung.
The Apaches, skulking in the hills, had seen him ap-
proaching over the- - plateau. At the right moment they

_had started the wild horses through the narrow opening

in the hills. .

Those horses had not. been the ones captured by the
horse hunters and held in the rock corral in the cafion.
As Pawnee Bill figured it, the herd was made up of both
bands of mustangs which the baron had seen in the ar-
royo. The white stallion, conquering the serrgl, had
taken the leadership of both bands.

Juh and his warriors had come upon the herd some--

where on the other side of the opening between the hills.
The situation had come around ‘fust right for the Apaches
to stampede the wild mustangs through the opening, and
thus bring about the easy Se of Pawnee Bill.

“there'll be scalps drying in the

Juh was another of the war chiefs nord for his rapa-

His,

    
\

THE BUFFALO

eeh@

‘Were Juh and his gang the same outfit Buffalo Bill
and the rest of- the bowie man’s pards were following?

Or were there two. ee and distinct parties of horse
~ hunters? 5

The prince of the bowie was puzzled not a little by this
phase of the matter. He realized, however, how bootless
4t was for him to bother his head about any one or any-
thing else apart from himself and his own sorry situation.

When well clear of the hills, the Apaches heeded the
order of Juh and came to a halt.’ All hands dismounted,
and Pawnee Bill was lifted from Chick- Chicks back and

laid flat down on the sandy ground.

A few minutes later the two redskins who tan gone
through the opening in the side of the valley came slash-
ing to the scene, each with an armful of wooden stakes.
The stakes were flung down close to the prisoner, and
‘the two Indians slid from their ponies.

“TI wonder what the game is?’ thought Pawnee Bill,
“It takes a lot of wood to work it out, seems to me.’

Juh talked rapidly with his men. When he had fin-
ished there went up a bedlam of delighted yells from the
savage pack,

Two of the Indians picked up stakes and began plant-
ing them in the earth on either side of Pawnee Bill.

Juh watched the work with critical eyes. Calling to
two more of the Indians, he said something which caused
them to gather up two more of the stakes. Juh indicated
the places where the two stakes were to be planted, and
the redskins fell to work like galley slaves.

When this part of the preparations was finished, Paw-

nee Bill lay between the stakes, with two on each side

of him.

Juh picked up a fifth stake and beriped to the prison-
er’s head. For an instant he scanned the ground sharply,
dragging the sharpened point of the stake over it. Finally
the point rested on a spot well beyond Pawnee. Bill’s
head. Here Juh ordered a redskin to drive the stake.

While the fifth stake was being driven, Juh and five
more Indians fell to work on the prisoner. The bowie
man was turned over on his face and the bonds were re-
moved from his wrists. He tried to struggle, but his
captors fairly swamped him with their numbers, and his
struggles were useless. ;

His left arm was straightened out along his left side,
and a riata bound it firmly in that position. “Mis right
wrist was then snared in a rawhide loop, the right arm
was pulled out along the ground, and the wrist lashed
securely to the fifth stake. The rest of the riata was
used in binding the gta 4 firmly to the stakes on either
‘side of him. ‘ '

What scheme of Achdish cruelty was being carried out?
As yet, it was impossible for the bowie man to ai
head or tail of the proceedings.

While Pawnee Bill was being lashed to the stakes on
each side of him, Juh had been planting a sixth stake in
the earth. This last stake was placed about three feet
beyond the fifth.

The rattlesnake was dragged to the last stake, and its:

head Hel to-the ground with a forked stick, while Juh
_tinkered with the rawhide thong around the snake’s neck,
‘Yhe thong was made more secure about the reptile’s
sinewy throat, and the other end of the thong—after
careful measurements—was tied to the sixth stake. The
forked stick was then jerked away, and Juh and the other
Indians leaped back,

®

BILL STORIES.

The snake coiled itself, buzzed a warning, and Strick
at Pawnee Bill’s right hand, lashed Ey the stake
beyond his head.

The bowie man doubled his fist in order to make his
hand as small as possible, and the rattler’s blow fell short,

Jah and. his Apachés laughed and danced, fairly con- »
vulsed with joy over th eir new method of torture. After
his merriment had passed, Juh pense to the lowering
sky.

“Bymby rain come,” he exulted; “rain weke um raw.
hide wet; rawhide stretch: snake bite um Kulux- Kitty-
bux. Ugh!” ' >

He bolted to his men, and they jumped to the backs of
their horses.» Three times, howling like demons, they cir-
cled around Pawnee Bill and the snake, then acted off
across the desert.

Juh was) riding Chick-Chick, ’ The chief’s cayuse wa
led by one of the Naihuaee : Indians.

CHAPTER Viti.
AT THE WATER HOLS),

The trail which Buffalo Bill, old Nomad, the baron, and
Little Cayuse followed bore directly west for about a
mile, then turned north, and then northeast.

At the point where it turned north there was a series
of low ridges crisscrossing the country. Where the ee
entered the ridges it lost itself in a shallow swale who:
bottom was an outcropping of rock. For half a mile the
rock persisted, and only here and there could the pards
pick up a sign to show them that the Indians and their
captured mustangs had passed that way.

North of the rocky swale was soft ground again, with
plain traces of the passage of the horses; but, so far as
the scopit and his pards could discover, only three Indians
had been driving the wild mustangs.

Only three Indians left with the herd, when at least a a
dozen had. followed the mustangs out of Yellow Hor:
Cafion !

“What ther blazes does thet mean, Buffler?’’ queried
the old trapper, as the pards came to a halt to debate the
question.

“It.can mean only one thing, Nick,” answered the
scout. “Most of the horse hunters have Teft the captured
mustangs. They got away somewhere in the swale.’

“For vy_ iss dot?” put in the baron. “Iss dere some
skullduggeries going on? Fairst vone Inchun goes off py
himseltif, und now pooty near all of der odders go off
py deirselufs. Vat iss der reason?”

‘There’s. something up, certainly,” said the scout.
“We'll ridé back down ie. swale, and see if we can find
out where the party separated, and which way the larger
party went.”

“Quare actions fer a bunch o’ hoss hunters,” growled
Nomad.

“According to my notion, Nick, the fact that the reds
are hunting ‘horses makes their actions less mysterious
than they would be otherwise. The first man to leave the
party may have slipped away to took for the herd of mus-
tangs. Possibly he overhauled the main party among
fabse ridges, reported that he had found the herd, an id
took away all but three of the bucks to capture more of

the imustangs.”

 
THE. BUFFALO

‘“Mebbeso, Buffler; an’ mebbeso ther hull blame’ thing

is some sort of er dodge aimed at We, Us, an’ Comp’ny.

\’Paches‘is mighty ornery schemers, Ye know thet as well
as [sdo.\'

Horses were pointed’ southward again, and the scout
‘had Cayuse ride well out on the east side of the swale, and
‘old Nomad on the west side. Halfway back toward the
‘point where the trail of the Indians had taken its north-
‘ward trend, the little Piute discovered something, and
announced it with a yell.

Buffalo Bill, Nomad, and the baron swerved their
horses and galloped to the boy’s side. A stretch of sand
covered a depression of the rocks, and across this sand
the Indians had passed when leaving their captured
horses. Hees

“Hé aqui heap plenty tracks,” said Cayuse, pointing.
“So many Injun cross um sand, Pa-e-has-ka,” and he
held up both hands, and then three fingers.

“Thirteen!” muttered thé’old trapper. “Thet’s er bad
combination fer any outfit, white er red. [Et amounts ter
a reg’lar hoodoo. fer them ’Paches.”

The scout had spurred to the farther side of the
stretch of sand, and was looking eastward across the
rocks. Ps A
- “That trail through the,sand isn’t more than two hours’

old,” he remarked, “and I believe I'll scout after that big ’

detachment, pards, while the rest of you’keep on after
the three reds who are driving the horses.”

“T don’t b’leeve in this hyar splittin’ up,’ demurred
the trapper. ‘Hadn’t we better all hang»tergether, But-
fler? S’posin’ ye run headfust inter them thirteen
’Paches. Mebbe ye’d wish we was with ye.”

“The trail heads in an easterly direction, Nick,” said
the scout, “and that’s the way Pawnee went when he fol-
lowed the first red to leave the main party. 1 don’t want
those thirteen Apaches to cut him off, and I may prevent
something like that if I do a little scouting. The rest of
the outfit will surely return to the three Indians who
drove the captured mustangs. I want to find out what
this large detachment is planning to do.”

The scout cut short further argument by rattling his
spurs and shaking out his reins. Nomad, the baron, and
Cayuse saw him vanish from sight oyer the top of the
swale. . : ee

“Ft’s up ter us, pards,” said the old trapper, “kase
what Buffler says goes. But I’m er Piegaref | likes ther
way things is fallin’ out.” mane

“T-yould radder dot ve shtuck close by each as to make
so mooch separatings,” remarked the baron. “Aber dot

£

makes no nefer mindts. Ve got our orters, und it iss our -

pitzness to carry dem oudt.”’

“Pa-e-has-ka got heap sabe,” spoke up Cayuse. “He
say he go, he go; he tell,us to go, we go.”

They turned their mounts and rode north again. Half
an hour later they had turned into. the northeast section
of the trail, and were looking from rising ground at a
water hole no more than an eighth of a mile away.

Cayuse hissed a warning, and backed his pinto off the
“rise’’ and down the slope, out of sight of the water hole.
The other two copied his move, and quickly.

“Them pizen ’Paches aire at the water hole!” exclaimed
the trapper, dismounting and pulling the reins over Hide-
rack’s head. “They’re makin’ er camp thar.”

“Dot's vat’s der madder!’” exclaimed the baron, like-

   

 
   
     

BILL STORIES. : 13

; % ‘
wise dismounting and fixing the reins so that Toofer
would stand. “Ve haf come oop mit\der ret dinhorns.”

The trapper, jerking off his hat, crept to the top of the

slope and peered cautiously toward the water hole.
- Half a dozen shaggy mustangs, each with a forward
hoof swung in a loop of rope, weré grouped &piritlessly
near the edge of the pool. The three Indians were plant-
ing stakes in a small circle and fencing the mustangs in
with a rope corral. ee

“Dit dose fellers see us, Nomat?”’ asked. the baron,
creeping up alongside the trapper.

‘They was too busy ter notice us, I reckon,’ answered
Nomad. “They’re fixin’ ter stay at ther water hole fer
some sort of er while,,J take et.” le

“Vy nod go down dere und haf a leedle talk mit dem,
eh? Meppe ve findt oudt someding aboudt Vild Pill.”

*Ve don’t savvy ther layout as ye ort ter, baron, Ef
them fellers aire plannin’ ter stay thar fer a spell, et’s dol- .
lars ter chalk marks thet them other reds Buffler is fol-
lerin’ will jirle “em. Et’s a hull lot better fer us ter lay
low.an’ watch ther varmints than ter ride in on ‘eth an’
give ourselves*plumb away. By stayin’ hyar an” keepin’
quiet we kin size up the rest o’ the bunch when they
come. Mebbe.thet’ll do us er heap more good than pilin’
in on them three reds an’ tryin’ ter hold ’em up fer a leetle
infermation. Eh, Cayuse?”

The Piute was lying close to Nomad and peering in-
tently over the top of the “‘rise.”

‘“Wuh!” said he. “More Injun come now. Look!”

Old Nomad and the baron both looked. Far to the ©
right of the water hole could be seen a little cloud of dust.
The wind presently whipped the dust aside, and a crowd
of red horsemen came plainly into view. The Indians
were riding toward the pool.

‘“T reckon we’resin luck,’ muttered Nomad. “Ef we
hadn’t stopped right hyar, I'll gamble my spurs we'd hev
got inter more trouble than we'd hev been able ter. take
keer of. Thar’s a baker’s dozen o% them Injuns—sixteen,
countin’ them thet’s already at the water hole. We're
good fer a purty sizable handful, but not fer a hull
fribe,”!

“T hope, py shinks,” cooed the baron, “dot ve ged a

- fighdt oudt oof dis.” ay

“Don’t ye git bloodthirsty, baron,” admonished the
trapper. “A fight with sixteen ’Paches ain't nothin’ ter.
be sneezed at by us three. They got guns, an’ lances, an’
pizened arrers, an’ we only got six-shooters.”

“Oof ve can’t lick der oudfit,’ suggested the baron,
“den ve can run avay mit ourselufs,”’

“T hate ter run from a bunch er ’Paches! Et goes
agin’ ther grain ter show Injuns how I wear my back
hair. Say, Cayuse, thet head buick seems ter be ridin’ er
purty tollable hoss, don’t ye think? Looks from hyar,
too, as though he had a saddle an’ civilized trappin’s on
ther animile.” a

The Apache who was riding in the lead of the war- ©
riors was certainly well mounted.

“Ugh!” grunted Cayuse, with just a trace of -exeite-
ment, “him ride buckskin caballo.”

‘Shore et’s a buckskin, Cayuse.”

“All same Pawnee’s buckskin, Chick-Chick.”

“Snarlin’ catermounts!” gasped the trapper.

“Plazes to plazes und all handts aroundt!”
the baron. ; ;

_“Thet’s sartinly Pawnee’s Chick-Chick animile,” went

exclaimed

=

&

 
  

 Tdot?”

 

14

‘on the trapper, “but whar’s Pawnee, ef thet’s his hoss?
An’ whar did them varmints git ther brute?” :
“Dey haf made some monkey-doodle pitzness mit Paw-

f°?

nee!” said the baron huskily.

The thtee pards were astounded. Their thoughts ran
in gruesome channels—ran around and around in circles,
and left them dazed and confounded.

They had come into the hills looking for the red horse
hunters in the hope of locating Wild Bill; now, from the
looks of things, they would have to turn in and hunt for
the prince of the bowie.

€

CHAPTER IX.
_ A PLAY FOR CHICK-CHICK.

“Ain't this the most rantankerous run 0’ luck ve. ever
heerd of, pards?” grumbled the old trapper, dropping
down below the crest of the ridge and turning his as-
tounded eyes on the baron and Cayuse.
ther evidence, them reds hev shore got Pawnee Bill, an’

et’s more than an even shake thet they’ve landed on Wild ~

Bill, too.
sich luck.”
*Oof Puffalo Pill iss following der Inchuns,” said the
baron, “den meppe he vill be along mit us pooty soon.”
“Buffler ain’t had time ter find ther Injuns, baron.
He’s out in ther hills, some’r’s, trailin’’°em. I reckon he'll
blow in.hyar arter a while, but I wouldn’t even bank on
et ‘
“Vat a pad pitzness! Howefer dit Pawnee habben to
lose his horse, I vonder ?”
‘““Mebbeso them whelps laid fer Pawnee an’ shot him
out o’ his saddle.”
- “Ach himmel!” groaned the baron.

I’m hopin’ Buffler ain’t got tangled up in no

“How else could them reds hev collared Chick-Chick?

Pawnee ’u’d never let ther animile git away from him ef
he was able ter handle er shootin’ iron. Ther fact thet
ther ’Paches hev got ther buckskin proves thet Pawnee
wasn’t able ter use a gun.
able ter use a weppin, then ye kin gamble a hull lot thet
somethin’ right serious is ther matter with him. I-wisht
I knowed what ter do! I ain’t got no head fer layin’
plans in er pinch, an’ hyar’s er time when et glooms me
up a heap.%

Little Cayuse was he to watch the water hole.
Just then he turned and drew Nomad’s attention with a
long-drawn-out, hissing sound,

“What's ter pay, kid?” asked the trapper.

Cayuse motioned for Nomad to come up beside him
and take another look at the water hole. The trapper did
so, and saw that the Apaches had all rounded up in the

i

e

 

THE ’BUFFALO

*“Accordin’ ter .

“Iss it so-pad as”

When one o’ our pards ain’t /

  

BILL STORIES.

   

camp, and had tethered their horses at the foot of the
slope from whose crest the three pards were keeping
track of proceedings. {

The Apaches were lounging around at the edge of the
pool, smoking and talking. They had left riding equip-
ment on the horses, which indicated either that they were
expecting to take another ride shortly, or else that they
‘wanted to have the animals ready for instant use in case
ofa possible surprise by enemies.

“Ym sizin’ up ther hull layout, Cayuse,”
mad. “What ye got on yer mind?”

“Nomad see um Chick-Chick?” asked the boy.

“All same.’

The big buckskin was about hil vey dows the line of
picketed ponies. He made ,a very respectable showing
against such a background of undersized horses.

said old No-

“Mebbeso we ketch um, eh?” asked Cayuse.

2?

“Ketch um?” repeated the trapper. “How d’ye mean?”

“Run um off.”

“Ts et yore idee ter snatch Chick-Chick out’o’ thet bunch
o’ Injun saddle stock?”

aA

“Et kain’t be done.”

“Me do um.” ,

“How you do um, you reckless leetle son of a gun?”

“You see um gouge along ridge, huh?”

With a nod of his head Cayuse indicated the direction

in which Nomad was to look to see the gouge he had
mentioned.

It was little more than a crack in the slope, and ran
from the top of the ridge down to’a point some twenty
feet away from the’string of picketed horses.

“Si, boy,” said Cayuse, “I kin see ther gouge.”

“Me crawl down gouge, Injun no see um. Go from
gouge to horses, hide behind horses, and go to Chick-
Chick. Plenty soon me jump in saddle, ride away. Huh?”

The old trapper pondered.

“I reckon a feller 0’ yore size mout hide in thet gouge,”
said he at last, “but I couldn’t do et, ner ther baron,
nuther. I hate ter think o’ Pawnee’s hoss bein’ in the
hands o’ thet bunch o’ reds. Ef ye think ye kin turn ther
trick, Cayase, go ahead an’ turn et. Make a bobble,
though, an’ the three 0’ us’ll be head over ears in er fight
agin’ sixteen. Someways I don’t seem ter shy at sich a
purceedin’ so much as I orter, Anyhow, you be keerful,
Cayuse. The baron an’ I will be ready ter run away with
ye, er ter fight fer ye ef things go wrong.”

“Dot’s vat ve vill!” declared the oar, with great
enthusiasm. “Vatefer habbens, Cayuse, you can tepend
on Nomat und me, py chimineddy.”

“Ugh!” grunted Cayuse.

“You bring um Navi, No-
mad ?”

  

  

 

 
      
    
 

 

te WB aN:

Cy

 

 

 

THE BUFFALO

“Don’t fret none erbout ther pinto, son,” answered the
| old trapper reassuringly. “Pll look arter him.”

| The boy lifted himself and dropped to his hands and
a knees; then he crawled to the top of the gouge, wormed
| | himself into it, and began his descent toward the horses.
| oe trapper, and the baron kept their eyes on the In-
\dians, and scarcely breathed. If one of them chanced to
‘look very sharply at the slope of the ridge, it would have
been very difficult for him to avoid seeing Cayuse. For
the first few yards of the descent the gouge was shallow;
after that it afforded the little Piute more protection. The
boy got over the shallow part of the wind-worn ditch and
continued on down, with the higher ie steeper sides af-
fording him better protection.

“He iss der pravest leedle feller vat efer-vas!”’ declated
the baron admiringly,

“He’s er prize package, baron, an’ no mistake!” agreed
the Genrer “Watch him now! He’s got ter ther bot-
tom 0’ ther gouge, an’ has ter kiver a rod er two 0’ open
ground im order ter reach them hosses! See how he does
et, baron.”

“Subbose der horses shouldt make some noises?’ pal-
pitated the bar on,

“Why, then et would be up ter you an’ me ter hold ther
reds off an’ give Cayuse time ter git up ther hill. I dunno
whether capterin’ Chick-Chick is wuth all this fuss an’

bother, ‘but I shore hates ter leave ther eee in ther

         

            

hands 0’ them pizen reds, “heh, 3

Cayuse had suddenly lifted his*head out of . gouge
and made quick appraisal of the Indians at the water
hole. Everything seemed propitious for his daring ven-
ture. To all appearances, the Indians were paying no at-
tention to the ridge slope, but were entirely absorbed in
other affairs.

Like a flash the boy leaped from the gouge and darted
over the open ground separating him from the horses.
The nearest horse gave a snort and a startled jump as
Cayuse laid hold of the picket rope.

Half a dozen of the redskins heard the noisé made by
the horse, and sprang to their feet and fixed their eyes
on. the slope. :

The baron gave a husky groan. «
“Der chig iss oop!’ he murmured.
fighdt.”
- “Don’t be in a rush with yer guns, baron,” cautioned
the trapper. “Jest wait fer a brace o shakes. Them reds
ain’t seen ther Piute yit. Howlin’ hyeners, but ther boy
was quick! He’s as ca’m as er Chinook breeze!”
- Little Cayuse had ducked behind the horse. Standing
there, he held to the picket rope with one hand, and, with
the other, stroked the pony’s neck soothingly. The ani-
mal quieted down; and so did the startled Apaches by the

“Now, den, ve

99

 

BILL SPORIES..

‘chuckled old Nomad.

an’ they ever opinin’ er thing!

\skin,” answered the trapper.

- a fine feller I don’d know! Hoop-a-la, Cayuse!”

water hole. ee had not been able to see ae, to.

further arouse their suspicions, and they sat down again
and resumed their smoking and talking. :

“Ther Piute got outer thet with eomod ter spare,’
“Now he’s goin’ on ter ther next
hoss.” see

‘Vata Bie pitzness!” muttered thé baron, his face

aglow with pride in the boy’s achievement. “Oof he vas _
tiscofered, der Inchuns could put a pullet droo him easy
mit vone oof dose rifles.”
- “Mebbe yes, an’ mebbe no, baron. Thet kid “pard 0’
ourn fis er heap quicker’n a bullet when he gits started.
See him go, will bi Right straight to ‘rd them Injuns,
(2?

It was truly remarkable the way Little tuleus pro-
ceeded from horse to horse, down-the hill, drawing closer
and closer’to. Chick-Chick, even though every step likes
wise carried him nearer the redskins. — ;

“T bed you he vins oudt mit groundt to shpare!” ex-
claimed the baron, gathering confidence as success con-
tinued to attend the little Piute’s work.

“Thar'll be er race, jest ther same, returned the old
trapper grimly, “an’ us fellers’ll be runnin’ erway from
them red whelps. I don’t like thet part o’ et, but ef we're
runnin’ erway with Chick-Chick, we’re sort er turnin’
ther tables on them schemin’ Injuns. Ain’t thet ther
way 0’ et, baron?”

“Vah, so. We fool dem Inchuns goot, und shdeal dot
Shick-Shick horse righdt avay from deir noses under.
Dot's a habbiness, efen oof it ain’d so mooch oof a habbi-
ness to run avay. Now vat iss Cayuse doing ?”

“FHe’s jést cuttin’ ther picket rope thet holds ther buck
“Git yore mule, baron, an,
be ey ter take holt when Cayuse comes lopin’ over ther
ridge.”

na Ae trapper, as he spoke, slipped down the slope to
Navi, the pinto. Leading the pinto to Hide-rack, he
swung into the saddle and leaned forward to pull the reins
over Hide-rack’s head.

At that moment there were wild ge from, the water
hole, punctuated by a rattling discharge of firearms.

“Ach, du lieber!” cried the baron, “der drouple iss on.
How iss Cayuse, I vonder?’

He spurred Toofer to the top of the ridge. As he
showed himself over. the crest, bullets nipped into the air
all around him. .

“T ook out thar, baron!’ roared the trapper, taking a
twist of Navi’s rope around -his saddle horn, “How’s
Cayuse?”

-“Fle’s comin’ dis vay like some houses afire!” cried
the baron, holding to hi§ place in spite of the singing bul-
lets. “Der lead don’d touch him ad all, py shinks! Vat

a

29

The baron fired a shot at the Indian camp by way of

  
 

16 THE BUFFALO

defiance, and a moment later Cayuse raced over the ridge
top on Chick-Chick. .

“Take ther back ‘track, son!” yelled the trapper,
ging in with his irons.

“Der whole gang iss afder us!” ee the baron, “Vat
a fine oxcidement !” a

CHAPTER: X,
‘AT BAY ON THE ILL

There were at least ten mounted Apaches gounding
after Cayuse. ‘The pards felt that they had nothing to
fear.. Their own mounts were so much fleeter than those
of the Indians that they had been willing from the first
to trust their lives to the heels of their animals.

Toofer was a very rapid mule—when he took a notion
to be. Just now, as luck would have it, his ambition was
running in the right direction, ~

The one thing that Nomad hated about fs clash with
the red men was that it disarranged the plans of the king
of scouts. Pawnee Bill was to return to the entrance of
Yellow Horse Cafion early in the afternoon, and he was
to join the rést of his pards there or follow along the
trail of the captured mustangs, and meet his compadres
in the vicinity of the Apaches.

How were Nomad, the baron, and Cayuse to get in
touch with Buffalo Bill and then all return to the mouth
of the cafion, when half a score of reds was pursuing
more than half the scout’s force? And if Pawnee Bill
started along the trail of the captured mustangs, there
‘was a likelihood of his encountering perils of which he
had not dreamed. And what was said of the bowie man
might apply, with equal force, to Buffalo Bill. The scout,
“not knowing what had taken place, might at any moment
be plunged into difficulties from which ap wrould be gk
to extricate himself.

As old Nomad slammed along on ae rack, these dis-
agreeable reflections filtered*through his brain. Perhaps,
he concluded, it might have been better to make Chick-
Chick a subject for diplomatic negotiation rather than
to secure the buckskin by letting loose the dogs of war.

The flight of the pards was soushward, over the same
course they had covered in following the Indians and the
captured mustangs. yp

“Ach,” whooped the baron, “it vas a skinch! Our
moundts go t’ree feet vile der Inchun horses iss going two.
‘Vat’s der answer?” and he laughed and fired a few times
toward the rear, merely to show, his contempt for every-
thing that looked like an Apache)

“Thet part o’ ef’s all right,” said the old trapper. “We
kin gallop right on inter Half-a-Chance, an’ show ther
reds our heels all ther bloomin’ way, but what erbout

BILL STORIES.

Buffler an’ Pawnee? Bumby, ev'ry jump thet takes us

“erway from ther Injuns is goin’ ter take us erway from

our two pards at ther same time. Waugh! Thet ain’t

so blamed agreeable ter think erbout, iscet te

The baron was slow with his headwork. He liked to
take things as he found them, and not be obliged to go
back of the returns. Nomad’s talk, jolted out of him
while Hide-rack bumped along, gave the a s happi-
ness a black eye. |

“Donnervetter!” shouted the baron. “I don’d t ‘ink oof
nodding, py shinks! Vat iss to be tone? Oof you say
dot, py ny grickeds, ve vill turn aroundt und rite
over der rets,’

then ther whelps would wipe us out in er hurry,” said
Nenad. “Wegot ter keep runnin’, baron, an’ trust ter
luck. Ef we could only run across Buffler an’ Pawnee,

oy Roe care a whoop how the rest o’ ther luck broke

with us.’

Fortune, aided and abetted by ‘the Apaches, took the
affairs of the pards roughly in hand and settled decisively
the matter of what they should do. ss

It will be recalled that only ten of the Apaches fol-
lowed the three pards from the water hole. Five of the
remaining six, mounted on the fleetest horses and cap-
tained by Chief Juh himself, undertook a detour that
brought them, by a.short cut, to a point ahead of. the eet
tives—a point favorable for an ambush.

And there the five Apaches lay, rifles neu for use
the moment their intended victims came abreast of them.

To the eagle eyes of Little Cayuse was due the credit
of saving himself and his two compadres. from annihila--
tion.

Over the tops of some jagged boulders the boy caught
a flash of a red flannel headband and the gleam of a rifle
barrel. Instantly. he shouted an alarm and swerved
Chick-Chick to the left. A narrow little valley opened in
that direction, and the boy rushed pellmell into the valley.

The baron and the trapper were astounded by this un-
expected move on the part of the little Piute.
less, they followed him.

“Whyever did ye do thet?” roared a Nomad.

His answer, comptete and satisfying, came from the
boulders, which they were leaving behind them. A crash
of. baffled guns was heard, and-a wail of angry lead.
Nomad and the baron looked over their shoulders, and
saw the five Apaches springing over the rocks.

“Sufferin’ centipedes !” gasped the trapper.. “Them fel-
lers was layin’ fer us, an’ had their guns ready an’ their
fingers on the triggers! Whoosh! Baron, thet was er
close call.” -

“Und I ditn’t see nodding!’ cried the baron.
vell! Vat a trickiness vas all dot!’

The narrow valley, in which the three pards had laid
fi

Vell,

_ Neverthe-

 

| the
> tin
ofl to
 

| pards.

&

THE! BUFFALO: BILL STORIES (6 ti

| their tee course, twisted, and curved, and angled.
| Sometimes. The three riders were riding south, and some-
times north. After three or four miles of this they came
| to a point where the valley was closed, by a blind wall.

“A blind gully, by thunder!” shouted the trapper. “We
got ter climb out an’ git ter goin’ on ther straightaway,
We been tyin’ so many bowknots in our rum
down this swale thet I’m plumb dizzy.” \

They began climbing at once, not over the ae wall,
for that was too steep, but up a slope at the valley’s side.

The, slope was a side hill, and the hill itself was higher
than any of the other uplifts in that immediate vicinity.
The top was reached after a stiff pull, and the three pards
huddled together*and stared at the trap which.was re-
lentlessly closing around them.

All about the foot of the hill was flowing a trickling
stream of red horsemen. Apparently the savages had
been waiting for the three pards to come to‘the end of
the valley and make a fresh move. Now that the move
had been made, the Apaches were rushing themselves into
every avenue of pe escape and establishing ; a block-
ade.

The base of the hill was already in the Apaches’ hands, °

and a half dozen bucks were at that moment dropping
down the rise up which the pards had just climbed.
“Drapped, py shinks!” cried the amazed baron.
“Ugh!” grunted Cayuse. ‘‘’Pache heap. fox, heap
Here!” |

quick to make um fox play.

The boy’s keen eyes had selected a spot for a stand.
It lay a little farther along the hilltop, and consisted of a
basinlike — depression. In form the basin resembled a
huge buffalo wallow. ‘

Into this shallow hole the pards rode, tied the heads
of their horses together, and placed the animals in the
centre. Thus the mounts were protected from any shoot-
ing from below. Having hestily cared for the animals,
the besieged pards- climbed to.the rim of their refuge, and
looked over.

The cordon had. been drawn completely around them.
Even the smallest loophole of escape was guarded.

“them. skunks hev
We're up

(??

“Er-waugh!” snorted old Nomad,
got us whar-ther ha’r’s-short, an’ no mistake.
ag’inst et. Fifteen in ther lot—count ’em.”’

“Dot makes fife abiece,’ tuminated the baron. “I
don’d know could I take care oof fife or nod. Vat
aboudt it, Nomat?” \

“Ye mout take keer 0’ one 0’ ther five, but “what ud

the other four be doin’ ?” f

From the foot of the hill a rifle dropped a hae
It was a stinging remark, at that, and left a hole in the
baron’s-hat. He _dropped under the lee of the basin’s —
Tin

ie a safage feller !” he exclaimed, removing his head-
gear and surveying the hole. ‘I am opliged dot it iss in

ip

der hat und nod in my headt. A leedle more to vone site
und I vould haf peen a gone Dutchman.’

The old trapper frowned angrily.

“They got rifles, an’ all we got aire six-shooters,” said .
he, “Thet means they kin stand off an’. pepper us; an’
all we kin do is ter dodge eround an’ not give ’em any .
0: their own medicine,
rman?”

“Ven dey come oop der hill to trive us oudt,” returned —
the baron re alen ve can make some drouples for
dem, I bed you.’ oe

“Come up ther hill ter drive us out?” echoed old.
Nomad sarcastically. ‘Ketch ’em doin’ thet! Why,
they'll stay down thar an’ pound erway at us ontil’the
tuck is taken. out o’ us-by lack o’ water an’ chuck.
’Paches aint riskin’ their necks any more’n what they got
ter. They kin play er waitin’ game, thet’s all got
ter do.

“Vat a luck!” sighed the baron, “Der vorst vay vat
, | know to tie is py shdarving mit meinseluf. I dialer
go mit ‘a pullet as dot.”
“Ther bullet’ll come—but et’s fue when we ain rt able
ter stand off them pizen varmints down below.’

The baron gave a chuckle and caught the trapper’ s
arm. ©

“What appears ter i ther trouble?” inquired Nomad

“Ve haf forgod aboudt der sgout und der powie man!”
exclaimed the baron. “‘Meppe dey vill come und raise der :
plockade!”

“How'll them wee fighters though oes aire—
git fifteen reds on ther run?”

“Vell, I bed you somet’ing for nodding dey vill a it,
Dit you efer know our bards to fall down on somet ae
like dot ?’’,

ve en” agreed the. trapper, “thet ef Buffler an’
Pawnee diskivers whar we aire they'll make er grand
right an’ left ter do somethin’ fer us. any got ways an’

means, But ye fergit somethin’, baron.”

_ “Vat iss dot?” Aen ,

“Why, our, pards don’t kenidw sot erbout ther fix
we aire in,’

Before the baron could answer, there came a livid
flash. It ran along the edge of. the hills, snapping and

crackling like a fiery serpent, then melted into a ripping

crash that made the ground tremble.

‘At the same mo-
ment there came a gust of rain. :

The pards hadn’t observed the lowering cone gath-
ering in the sky, and this bolt and swish of water was
their ‘first intimation that a storm was at hand.

“Py shinks!” jubilated the baron, ‘dose Inchuns von’t
keep der -vater avay from us, anyvays! I vill be gladt ©
to ged vet, so long as ve keep our bowder dry!”

But this rain, while meaning little for the pards on the
hilltop, promised grievous things for Pawnee Bill!

fag

Aint eter layout ter rile er]

 
   
   
  
  
  
 
  
  
  
   
 
  
 
  
   
 
   
  
  
   
  
 
 
 
  
 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
 
  
  
  
  
  
  
 
 
  
 
   
  
 
  
 
  
 
 
  

CHAPTER Od,

FROME ANS EA WEO eS ae Gs Si

. Buffalo Bill’s trailing, for at least an hour, Geerieped
- nothing worth while.

After leaving his pards, crossing the str etch of drifted
sand and climbing out of the swale, h¢ arrived upon better
ground for tracking. The trail ran eastward, sharp and
clear, left the ridge country, and entered a group of hills.
Although he rode swiftly, the scout saw nothing of
the Apaches. The trail freshened as he advanced—ample

- proof that he was gaining on the red horse hunters—but
his speed did not bring him within sight of the Indians.

At last, in the edge of the hills, he found a trail leading
west and north. It was’the same trail he was following
—of that he was positive. ,

Why had this strong party of Apaches left their horses
and come to these hills?) What had they done in the
rough country? ‘Their work had not taken them long,
for already they were on their way to rejoin the horse
herd. | :

“Buffalo Bill, having about decided that his reconnoiter-
ing expedition was to accomplish nothing worth while,
was about to take the back track through the ridge coun-
try, when a growing rumble of hoofs came out to him
from the heart of the hulls. \

He drew to-one side of a little valley, Gnd waited, What
he had expected came to pass. A herd of wild horses
came rushing out of the hills and lost themselves im the
mouth of a barranca that fringed the ridges.

The horses were led by a magnificent white stallion, so
free and spirited in his movements that a gasp of ad-
miration was drawn from the scout.

“That's the horse,’ he muttered, “that the baron saw
in the arroyo fighting with the sorrel. The horse,” he fin-
ished, “that Wild Bill tried to capture. I don’t wonder
that Hickok tried to land the animal.’ ts

When the last mustang had plunged from sight, the
scout was surprised to see a rider descending the valley
from the hills; and he was still further surprised to note
that the horseman was none other than the half-breed who
had led him and Pawnee Bill and Little Cayuse such an
“unsuccessful chase in the early morning.

- It was the half-breed, undoubtedly, who had frightened

_ the wild horses and sent them tearing out of the country.

The man in the valley saw the scout almost as soon as
the scout had seen him. Instantly the half-breed whirled
-his horse and started off at speed.

“Wait! roared the scout.

The man paid no attention to the command, but plied
his quirt fiercely over his pony’s withers.

“Tf that’s your game,” muttered ne scout, wD Il call it
right here.” é

He pricked Bear Paw with the rowels, and the noble
black leaped away on the trail of the pony.

 

  

THE. BUFFALO BILL STORIES.

The valley was long and excellently situated for a pur-
suit. By leaps and bounds Buffalo Bill ONGP Mies the
fleeing half-breed.

The pursued man.turned in his saddle and launched a

bullet rearward. It was a revolver he used, and the jolt-

ing of his horse so disconcerted his aim that the bullet
went wide.

“Try that again,” shouted the scout, jerking a weapon
from his belt, “and your horse will be minus a rider!
Stop, I tell you!”

The half-breed did not do any more shooting, but he
still refused to stop.’ The ‘scout raced alongside and.
caught the man by the arm. Then, and-then only, did the
half-breed draw in on his reins.

At that moment a livid glare lit the heavens, and a roar
of thunder awoke wild echoes among the hills. Close on
the heels of the thunderclap came rain.

The wind blew the rain fiercely, and the scout pointed
to the side of the valley. There the bank was quite steep,
and afforded some protection from the driving water:

“Go there!’? ordered the scout. “If you try to run
away, I'll shoot.”

The half-breed grunted and headed his horse in the
direction the scout had indicated. Under the lee of the
bank the scout and the half-breed were in tolerable com-
fort, and both dismounted, with their arms thrust through
their bridles.

“Who are you?’ demanded the scout, taking the breed’ s
measure with a swift up-and-down glance.

“John Two-Sticks,’ was the sullen response.

‘Well, John Two-Sticks, do you know who Iam?”

“You Pa-e-has-ka.. Me sabe you.” 3

“Then, if you know me, you know I’m not given to
talking around the bush. I saw you this morning.”

“Yaas.”’ fee ee

“You belong with the Apache horse hunters.”

“No belong. Mebbeso, one time; no belong now,” and
the half-breed burst into a torrent of profanity that would
have put an army teamster to the blush.

While he swore, one of his hands was groping lightly
over his dusky face. . The scout noticed that his Face was
raw and scarred.

“Who are the horse punters? “went on the scout, “It
will be better for you if you talk and tell me what you —
know.”

“Me talk, you bet. Me talk plenty.”

“What's more, | want a truth.”

“Me tell um.”

“Then answer my question :
hunters?”

“Apaches.” —

‘I know that. Chiricahuas ?”

“Vaas, him Chiricahuas. Chief Juh, him boss of horse
hunters.” ' ae se

‘“Juh!” The scout was startled to hear that this noto-

Who are those red horse

 

 
 

 

 

fo OTE BUNPALO

rious red scoundrel was with the gang. “‘
that?”

“Heap sure? answered John Two-Sticks confidently.

“Why is Juh hunting horses?”

“Him want Victorio.”

The scout was puzzled.

“Victorio?” he echoed.

“Yada. a

“What Victorio?” ©.

“Big high chief.” ~

The scout’s face hargened. A flash of lightning at that
moment brought out vividly the sternness he threw into
his eyes.

“I told you,” hissed the scout, “that I wanted the
truth,”

The half-breed eringed, .

“Me speak um, yaas,’ ’ he crieds vehemently.

“The Big ehaer, Victorio, was killed in Mexico,”
the scout sharply.
torio?”

“All same, Pa-e- ioeta. ” insisted Two-Sticks.
him tall with his medicine. Sure.
find Victorio,”

“But,” returned the scout impatiently, “I tell you Vic-
torio was killed in Mexico.~How could Juh be looking
for a man that has been killed?” |

“‘Juh say Victorio alive.”

“Bosh !””

“VYads, Pa-e-has-ka.
Juh say him alive now.”

The scout stared.

“I reckon you're locoed,” said he shortly.

“No loco. Me speak um true.” _

“Then kindly explain to me how an Apache chief can
be dead, and, at the same time, alive!’’

“Him spirit go from Injun body to horse body,” was
the astounding explanation given by Two-Sticks.

“Great guns!” exclaimed the scout.

“You sabe Injun got spirit, huh?”

“I sabe that.” |

“Where Injun go when Injun die, huh? Where him
spirit go’

said:
“How can Jah be looking for Vic-

“Juh
Medicine tell him to

Juh say Victorio got killed, but

“Vd be brutal if I told you ee according to my _

notion, some Indians go when they cash in.’

“Injtin go to happy -hunting grounds when Injun die.
Him spirit go to happy hunting grounds—sometimes.”

“Sometimes,” said the scout. *

“Juh’s spirit no go to happy hunting grounds,” declared

Two-Sticks gravely; “’cause him muy malo! Him say
Victorio’s spirit no go to good place, either.”

“TI believe that,” agreed the scout. “It won't bea ee
place that either Juh or Victorio goes tO,”

“Yaas. When Victorio die, Juh tell um, Victorio’s
spirit go PLO NUrSEs 8 a

The scout laughed.

&

Cae

‘You are sure of”

 

ri —

BILL STORIES. “19

“That’s the Faemicncn theory,” said he, “what the
wise ones call the transmigration of souls. But it’s.a
wild guéss.") 2.15

“Huh! Juh say Victorio live now in horse body.”

The folly.of this talk appealed entirely to the scout’s
humorous side.- But the belief was very real_in John
Two-Sticks. : ;

The Unknown is peopled by the tedskins with strange
illusions. But the untutored Indian was running his
more \civilized white brother a close second in this belief
in the transmigration of souls.

“Where is the horse that Victorio’s spirit is at present
inhabiting?” inquired the scout gravely.

“Him wild horse,” answered Two-Sticks seriously. |

“T’d like to have the breaking of that wild oe Ve

“Juh try git um wild horse, Him try: :

“Words died on the half- breed's lips.
turned down the valley...
gripped the scout’s arm.

“Look!” he cried, pointing. “You see um—vVictorio!”

The scout’s gaze followed the pointing finger.

Standing in the entrance to the valley, far away in the
mist of foggy rain, was the white stallion. The horse
was looking up the valley, and standing rigid as a statue.

While the scout stared, a blaze of lightning illumined
the albino mustang, playing around him in gruesomesfash-

 

His eyes were
Staring hard, he suddenly

ion, The clap of thunder that fellowed the flash seemed

6 rend the hills. As the tumult reeled away-into silence,
the white stallion reared high and vanished.
In spite of himself, a queer- ae sped. through the

scout’s nerves, sar
3

CHAPTER XII.
A POINT WORTH WHILE,

Buffalo Billy in his talk with John Two-Sticks, was -
fishing for something of importance, something’ bearing
on Wild Bill. The drift into foolish talk had been through

a natural following up of information about the horse = -

hunters. .
The appearance and disappearance of the wild mustang
had aroused an uncanny feeling in the scout. He shook |
it off by quickly mustering his common sense. —
“That’s enough of that, Two-Sticks,” said he.
long have you been with ihe horse hunters ?”
“Since the spring grass.” *
“Were you with the gang yesterday when they attacked
a white man?”
Wali’: ,
“Were you with the gang all 1 day yesterday ?”’
Ro aase:
~ “Then,” said the scout sternly,
around when my pard was attacked.

“How

“you must have been
I told you, Two:

  
   

   

Sticks, that I wanted the truth. If I can’t get it out of
you in one way, I will in another.”

“Red horse hunters no fight um whiteman yesterday,”
declared Two-Sticks.

“They made an attack on my pard, Wild Bill,” insisted
the scout, “and ey put a poisoned arrow into the war
bag at his cantle.” x

“Nah,” said Two-Sticks.

“After that first set-to,’ went on the scout, still posi-
tive, “Wild Bill tried to rope the white mustang, and the
horse pulled thé saddle from the back of Wild Bill's

   
   
   
   
   
   
  
  
  
  
  
   
     
   
 
    
 
  
   
 
  
    
 
    
 
   
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
   
  

“Nah,” said Two-Sticks.

The scout began to lose patience.

“T tell you,” he cried, “that’s what happened! One of
my pards found the saddle trailing from the white mus-
tang’s neck.” :

“Nah,” said Two-Sticks.

The scout grabbed at one of his revolvers, and Two-
Sticks flung up Mas hand restrainingly..,

“Half-breed try rope um white mustang before last
sleep, Pa-e-has-ka,” said he, “and Juh shoot um half-
breed. Juh no like Victorio to be treated so. You sabe?”

“You've got a crooked tongue for all your protestations,

. Two-Sticks,” said the scout. “What were you doing at
our camp early this morning?”

‘“‘Juh say me go steal um caballos,” replied the half-
breed. : ™

“How did Juh know where we were?’

“Apache scout watch um Pa-e-has-ka last sleep. See
um go. down Yellow Horse Cafion. Juh say me go git um

@caballos; say Pa-e-has-ka not got um fangs to hurt In-
juns so we steal um caballos.’’

“Then you sneaked up on our camp to get our mounts,
belies
dass”
“After you made your getaway you returned and re-
ported your failure to Juh?”’
“VYaas. 99

‘As he spoke, Two-Sticks scowled like a demon.
“What did Juh say?”

quirt. Other Injuns hold um while Juh hit um.” ,

“Once more the half-breed went off into a torrent of
profanity.

The scout had to believe this. Two-Sticks’ face bore
evidence of the truth of his words, :

“What happened then?’ he asked.

“Juh ordered Two-Sticks away, yaas. ‘Two-Sticks go.
Some time mebbeso Two-Sticks kill um Juh! When
Two-Sticks find um Juh, Apaches got um white prisoner.
Him pard Pa-e-has-ka’s.”

The scout jumped, startled. At last he had achieved a

‘point worth while.

 

THE BUFFALO

mount and ran off with it.” NC

“Him heap mad; hit um half-breed’ over face with

BILL STORIES. | e

“You say,’ he asked eagerly, “that when you came
from our camp and reported to Juh that you could not
lift our saddle oe that Juh had a prisoher—a pard-of
mine 2” ue x

Saas).

“What was the prisoner’s name?”

“Him named Bill.”

“At last,” cried the scout, “I’m getting a line on
Hickok! What was done with the prisoner ?”

“Juh send um Injun for rattlesnake.”

“Rattlesnake ?”’

Vv Vaas.” é

“4Nhy was that?”

“Jub. try tortute Pa-e-has-ka’s pard. Juh no like um
Pa-e-has-ka, so kill um Pa-e-has-ka’s pard.”

The scout’s eyes blazede

“What did Juh do with the rattlesnake?” he demanded.

“Me ride away, you sabe,” explained Two-Sticks, “then
me watch um ’Paches ig hills. Me see um, you bet.”

“What did they do?. Speak quick!”

“Juh stake um prisoner on ground, hand so,” and Two-
Sticks pushed his left hand down his left side and
stretched his right hand above his head. “Juh stake um
like that, so pris’ner no make um move. Sabe?”

“I sabe,’ answered the scout impatiently. “Go on with
the rest of it.”

“Then Juh tie um rattlesnake to stake with rawhide
cord. Rattlesnake him strike at white pris’ner’s hand,
but no reach um. Rawhide cord too short.”

“The infernal scoundrels!’ muttered the scout.

“Jub watch um sky. Him see clouds, Pa-e-has-ka, and
him know bymby she rain. When rain come, wet um
rawhide cord, rawhide cord stretch. Snake bite um pris-
‘ner’s hand, pris’ner die.”

A shout of anger burst from the scout’s lips. For sev-
eral minutes the rain had been coming down, but now
it had suddenly ceased. He jumped at Two-Sticks and
caught him fiercely with/both hands.

“Where was it they staked out Wild Bill?” he de-
manded. “Tell me—quick!”

“We ride,” was the answer ; “me show um Pa-e-has-ka!
But Pa-e-has-ka too late. Rain she comevalready. Snake
bite um Pa-e-has-ka’s pard |

 

“Mount your horse!” roared the scout, leaping into
his dripping saddle on Bear-Paw’s back. “Mount, I tell
you, and lead the way. Use your quirt! Tf you try to
fool me, or if you lose any time, there'll be shooting be-
hind you, Two-Sticks.”

“Yaas,’ answered the half-breed, in trepidation. “No
shoot. Me sabe. Me ride.”

He jumped to the back of his nile and headed up the
bank of the valley. |
“Why don’t you take more level groufid?” asked the
p ,
o.

      

 

 

   

SC

th

q

  
Reh CD Ne.

 

THE BUFFALO

scout, balking at the slow movements of the horses when
the moment called for speed, and more speed !
“We make um short cut,’ flung back Two-Sticks over

his shoulder?

“Where were you when you got that quirting from
Juh?” asked the scout, beguiling his impatience with tall k,

‘All same valley on other side hills,”

“When the reds left Yellow Horse Cafion they took
some wild mustangs out of the rock corral?”

Vag eee |

“And at the north end of the cafion they sent an Indian
to the east, while the rest of them went to the west

“Yaas, Injun go look for wild caballos; try find.um

 

Victorio.”

“Farther on,” pursued the scout, “Juh and most of his
Indians left the captured caballos and made for these
hills.” a sy

“VYaas. Juh say him meet Two-Sticks in hills and take
um white men’s caballos.”

“That’s the reason he left the horses, eh?”

“Yaas, Me meet um, and he hit um Two-Sticks with
quirt.”’ : ;

“Tuh is trying to capture the white horse?” @

“Vader f 2

‘And i s been at it ever since the spring grass?”

“Sate

“He’s a long while getting a rope on that white mus-
tang, seems to me. What sort of a horse hunter is he,
anyhow 2?

“Pa-e-has-ka no sabe. White mustang all same Vic-
torio, Juh no hurt um when he ketch um. Hurt um
white mustang, hurt um Victorio. Make um Victorio
heap mad.” .

“T see. Juh has got to handle the white mustang with
gloves; and it certainly takes time when you go at a wild
mut istang in that fashion.”

“Juh, me hate um! Bymby mebbeso me kill um.

“How any watriors in Juh’s gang?’

“So many.’

Two-Sticks turned in his saddle and held up both
hands and then six fingers.

“He has quite a gang, then,’ said the scout. “They re
all Apaches ?”’

“All ’Paches now. One Lei bréed killed ; other half-
breed gone away from gang.”

“He killed the other half-breed, you say, because the
breed tried to rope the white mustang?”

Vegas

“Well, you’re wrong. It wasn’t a half-breed that did
the roping, but my pard, Wild Bill. Why do you keep
on telling me it was a half- breed ?”

“Him half- breed,” insisted Two-Sticks.

“Let it go at that,” said the scout. “I know it must
have been my pard, Wild Bill. - Another of my pards

é

     

ak ah

  

BILL’ STORIES. | | 21

     

found Wild Bill’s rope around the white mustang’s neck,
and Wild Bill’s saddle and war bag at the end of the
rope. Those are facts you can’t get around.” ,

“Nah,” said Two-Sticks.

The scout’s worry over Wild Bill had brought his
temper pretty close to the surface. He felt that there was
no rhyme or reason in the half-breed’s contention con-
cerning the other half-breed.

What would have happened had Two-Sticks not drawn
rein on a slope overlooking the plateau, it is difficult to
forecast; but Two-Sticks pointed off over the level
ground, and remarked:

“There Pa-e-has-ka’s pard.”

The scout saw the stakes, glimmering whitely against
the dull gray of the desert; and he saw a form stretched
motionless out between them. —

Also, he saw another form, coiled and sinuous, striking
and drawing back, striking and drawing back. With a
shout of encouragement, he rattled his spurs and put
Bear Paw to the gallop. ee

CHAPTER XIII.
BY A HAIR'S BREADTH.

Pawnee Bill had never before become so intimately
acquainted with a rattlesnake’s eyes. There were tints in
them which vied with all the colors of the rainbow. At
times the diamond orbs looked like points of flame, but,
for the most part, they merely glimmered, vague with
their many hues. ,

After the Apaches had ridden, ae away, the
prince of the bowie had fought fiercely. with the cords
that bound him to the stakes. So cunningly had he been
secured, however, that it was impossible for him to move
by'so much as an/inch; and the hand that lay close to the
striking rattler he could not move at all, except to flex
and unflex the fingers. To open the hand meant to place
the fingers within the rattler's reach; so, quite naturally,
he did not experiment much in that direction.

His head lay on his outstretched right arm. To look
at the snake, he must throw his head backward into a
position of the utmost discomfort. Nevertheless, he
maintained the strained position in order to keep watch
of thegslender, sinuous peril that threatened him.

Occasionally his eyes turned skyward, keeping track
of that hint of rain. Without the rain the rattlesnake
would be powerless; but whether the rain came or not,
Pawnce Bill’s end seemed certain, If the poison fangs
of the reptile failed to compass his destruction, he yet
faced a lingering death by starvation and exposure, Wild
horses or tange cattle might trample him; and if not
these, then there were the wild cats, the coyotes, and the

' -

SY

    
 

‘the mouth of the cafion, and

2 THE ‘BUFFALO

wolves. te looked forward to a. hideous night, provid-

ing the clouds brought no rain.

For a time, after the Indians left, he had used his voice
lustily. The hills gave back only mocking echoes, and the
effort he put forth depleted his strength. Soon he con-
vinced himself of the uselessness of the proceeding, and
fell into silence.

He watched the snake, industriously persisting in its
strike, strike, strike. There was something weirdly fasci-
nating in the rattler’s persistence. If he failed to reach
that clenched fist once, he failed fifty times, and yet he

continued to coil, uncoil, and to coil again with almost the |

regularity of clockwork. When the head came close, and
the buckskin thong was drawn taut, Pawnee Bill would
have a swift glimpse of two white fangs and a flashing,

* erimson tongue.

“On-she-ma-da!” said. he to the snake,
persistence is worthy of a better cause, reptile.
you poor fool, we’re both prisoners.
me, if you ever do, you’d better sting yourself. ‘If the
rain comes, the rawhide will stretch. If the loop about
your throat stretches enough to let you draw out your.
head, draw it out and make off. Se ll be the best thing
that can happen for the two of us.’

Why,

A faint thud was caused by the thong as it came sud-
denly taut with each strike of the snake. Every three or
four minutes the prince of the bowie heard it.
from that, the deadly menace worked silently.

A horrible numbness grew in Pawnee Bill’s body. He.

felt it creeping in from the wrist, bound with cruel tight-
ness to the stake. It reached his shoulder and spread
slowly down his right side.

Almost he was convinced that the rattler had. spilled
some of its venom into his veins. Only by studying the

. gnake’s leash for a few minutes was he able to reassure

himself that there was still a margin of an inch between
himself and death.

He fell to recalling all the stories of t Apaoke torture
which he had ever heard, Geronimo, in his palmiest days,
Pawnee Bill felt sure, had never devised anything so in-
human as this torture of Juh’s.

- . Was there anything to be hoped for from Buffalo Bill
and the rest of the bowie man’s pards?

Pawnee Bill was to meet them at the mouth of the

cafion early in the afternoon. The prince of the bowie
could not see the sun, and was therefore unable t& judge
of the passing of time, but he believed it must be long
past the hour when he and his pate were to meet at the
appointed place.

Would the scout be able to track Pawnee Bill? He
might. Pawnee Bill had tracked the lone Indian from

 

There came a vivid flash, a rumble of thunder, and a
spit of driving rain. Pawnee Bill gave a gruesome laugh.

“that patient“

After you sting»

Apart —

fingers.

BILE STORIES.

“The rain’s here,” he muttered. “What tracks T left
will be wiped out like marks from a slate. Anyhow, the
rain has tw6 chances at me—it not only obliterates my
trail, but it wets the rawhide. How much longer, I won-
der?” ‘

Thud! :

“I wish you’d hold yourself still for a second after you
make one of those strikes,’ complained Pawnee Bill to
the Tae “so I could see just how much closet you're
coming.”

The rain increased. “Theseh its blutied fog the prince
of the bowie noticed that the ardor of the reptile was not
dampened. The rattler was just as persistent as ever.

Something black swooped downward on the wings of
the tempest, and rushed on and upward within a few
feet of the bowie man’s head.

“A buzzard!” thought Pawnee Bill. “I wish I could
persuade that buzzard to do business with the snake. I’m
in for a soaking,” he finished lugubriously, “and so’s the
rawhide cord.”

Then a thought came to him—a thought inspired a
relaxation of the fierce pressure at his wrist.

@lis right wrist was bound to the stake by a rawhide
band! :

This band would be acted upon by the rain in the same
manner as the cord that bound the rattler to the stake!

‘Hope ran pulsing through ey

If the band would yield so that the wrist could be with-
drawn | Or, failing that, if it would give enough
so that the doubled fist could be pulled, by. ever so little,
out of the reach of the snake’s fangs !

’

ill’s breast.

 

 

Pawnee Bill drew in on his right arm.’ The rigidity
of the wrist was much less than it had been. By keeping
the fist doubled, however, it was impossible to test the
laxness of the rawhide ae Lf he dared open his hand,
perhaps he could slip it through the loop!

To throw out the fingers, however, was to place them
within reach of the striking fangs. Desperate, yet de-

_termined to take any chance, no matter how forlorn it

seemed,.Pawnee Bill watched the darting head. The in-

stant it started on the recoil he threw out his stiffened

Before he could test the loop with his hand

open, the snalge executed a strike before it had fully re-

coiled. The hand closed just in the nick of time.
“Fooled you!” cried Pawnee Bill huskily,

It was a strange fight, this between the man and the
snake. The object of it was that Pawnee Bill might gain

the time to test the buckskin loop. He gained it at last,

only to discover that the circle of rawhide would not
stretch sufficiently to let him withdraw*his hand.

The rain ceased as suddenly.as it had begun. The sun
did not reappear, although Pawnee Bill momentarily ex-
pected it. The snake was still striking with clocklike reg-
ularity.

&

Laren

 
   

 

  

THE BUFFALO
“Tf the sum was to come out good and hot,” mufmitred
the prince of the bowie, ‘we'd have another. phase of this”
rawhide busirfess. The drying cord would contract, and,
it may be, strangle the snake. But, while the sky i
cloudy and the- dampness ‘remains in the rawhide, co

snake will come nearer and nearer i

Thud! se

“Look at that!” muttered Pawnee Bill. “He’s coming
closer. "Well, reptile, if I had the use of my other hand
for a minute, P’d take you by the throat, back of the
jaws.” .

Thud!

The rawhide leash was stretching more and more.
Pawnee Bilkalmost believed the snake’s fangs were near
enough to close on the flesh of his knuckles,

Well, if they did close, the bowie man reasoned that he
could twist his wrist in the stake thong and make a very
excellent tourniquet. In this manner he could keep the
poison confined to his hand for some little time.

The fangs were now coming within a hair’s breadth of
the doubled fist.

Pawnee Bill heard a shout.

Where did it come from? he asked himself,

Was it really a human voice he heard, or only some-
thing evolved out of his vagrant imagination?

He heard it again.

Yes, it was really a shout, and the voice had something
familiar about it.

Pawnee Bill endeavored to respond, but there was a
ie huskiness in his voice, and it would not carry.

He strained his eyes in the direction of the hills, and made
out the form of a galloping horseman.

“Buffalo Bill!” he muttered. “It’s my old necarnis!”

There was no doubt about it.

In the distance Pawnee Bill could see Buffalo Bill
hurrying to his aid.

Would the king of scouts arrive in time?

The prince of the bowie threw his head back for an-
other look at the snake.

Every blow the reptile made now seemed destined to
reach the mark.

Pawnee Bill shifted his eyes again to the scout.

 

Never had’ Bear Paw developed a greater burst of ”

speed. The big black was fairly skimming the sage brush.

Something bright glimmered in the scout’s hand.

“He’s getting ready to use his revolver,’ murmured
Pawnee Bill,

With a rush Bear Paw came close. The snake, startled
by this new arrival on the scene, coiled, reared erect, and
arched the upper at of its body in the scout’s direction.

Crack!

One shot was ‘enough. The reptile’s head fell from i

twisting body, severed as neatly as though by the blow of
a knife,

BILL

 

 

“Pard Hickok!” fomud ‘Buffalo Bill, tumbling out of -

STORIES,

 
     
 

his saddle and rushing toward the bowie man.

“Guess again, necarnis !” answered Pawnee Bill. “It’s
one of the other Bills—but he’s close to being ‘wild’ at ‘
that!”

The scout hatted | in his tracks and “stared.

CHAPTER XIV.
ALARMING NEWS.

Buffalo Bill had it firmly in his mind that Hickok was |
the one he was running to rescue. .

During his race, he had kept his eyes fixed on i rat-
tler ; now, for the first time, he got a good look at the form
between ‘the stakes.

“Great Scott!” he exclaimed. “This is about the big-,
gest surprise party | even ran into. Pawnee!”

“What made you. think it was Hickok that had got
tangled up with a piece of rawhide and a rattler?” asked
the bowie man.

mA ce know where’ I ae the impression, oe it was
strong.”

- Half a dozen strokes of his howie: cleared Pawnee Bill.
of the cords. He tried to get up, but fell flat.

“An-pe-tu-we!”? he muttered. “I feel like my arms
and legs belonged to somebody else.” ,

“Here, give me a chance at your arms.”

The scout went down on his knees and began giving
Pawnee a little violent massage. He slapped, and rubbed,
and pinched until the blood flowed back into his com-
padre’s arms.

“Mil gracias, necarnis!” said Pawnee Bill, sitting up in
the sand. “Did you ever see any one in a fix like that
before?”

“Not exactly that kind, no,” the sgout answered, “But
Se are past masters at that sort of devilish inven-
ton 5
“They are! Who but an Apache would think of mak-
ing a rainstorm set loose a rattler on a white man? Pm
soaked!” and the bowie man slapped at his soggy clothes.

“You're saved from the rattler, anyhow,” laughed Buf-
falo Bill.

“How did you sabe I was here 2”

“Two-Sticks fold me that.” ae

“Then I take off my hat to Two-Sticks! But who is
he? And where and when did he butt into the game?”’

Buffalo Bill explained about the half- breed, and ape
the other things that had happened.

“Kick over that Stetson, pard,” begged Cece Bill,

“and see if there is an unbroken cigar in the crown Of it.
The snake wasn’t bothering me so much as the want of
a smoke.” | -

_ The scout found three cigars in n the’ crown of the hat,
 

24 ce, “PHE. BUFFALO
but they were all broken. He tescued half a one, and
Pawnee Bill accepted it gratefully.

“From what I’ve told you, Pawnee,” said the scout,
“you know how I discovered that one of my pards had
been captured and staked out by the ’Paches. I didn’t
dream that it was you, but supposed that it was Hickok.
However, as the baron says, ‘that makes no never minds.’
But how did you happen to get into the hands of the
’Paches in the first place?”

“T rode into that nice little range of hills, tracking the
lone Apache,” answered the prince of the bowie. “A
dozen reds were in hiding, and they stampeded a lot of
wild ean against me before I could get out of the
way.” &

“Victorio’s band?” laughed the scout.

Pawnee Bill grinned.

“The white mustang was the boss, anyhow. One of
fhe mustangs tried to elimb over me, and I was knocked
off Chick-Chick’s back. After that there’s a,blank. When
I opened my eyes the ’Paches had me, and Chief Juh was
kicking me in the ribs. After that I saw the outfit quirt
Ao Bed that led us such a 2 gay chase this morn-
inp es ®

“Two-Sticks appears to have told the truth about that.”

“He told you a good many things that were straight.
I’ve Bo to find a and his gang and recover my buck-
skin.”

The scout became thougtietul
_ “There are sixteen'in the gang,” saidhe.

“Shades of Unk-te-hee! I-can’t help it if there are
sixteen hundred in the gang. I want my Chick-Chick.”
“That's you! Where are your guns?”

“Gone with the ‘Paches. But my bowie—ah, look!’

Pawnee Bill’s hand went into the breast of his shirt,
and returned with his famous knife in its carved leather
sheath. |

“They didn’t sear e,” he went on. “The sheath
loop broke while I was on my way to those hills, and I
thrust the knife into my shirt front until I should have
time to mend the loop. So that’s how I saved the knife.
I can buy another brace of guns,, First time I’ve lost my
guns since I took that slide down the mountain on the log.
Suppose we go and hunt up the rest of our pards?” .

a

- Pawnee Bill arose to his feet, alert and ready for any-_

‘thing else that was to come.
“We'll do ae said the scout.
the two of us.’
Buffalo Bill turned and swung into the saddle. Pawnee
Bill started toward the horse, but paused and mene off
across the plateau. .

“Who's that, necarnis?” he inquired.

“Bear Paw will carry

~The scout gazed for a moment, and saw a horseman
riding toward hinsand Pawnee Bill at high speed.

- “Tt looks like my half-breed, ”* he answered. “So it is,”

BILL STORIES.

hefinisHed. “I was forgetting all about him, and I reckon
we’ve been palavering here for upward of an hour.”

“All of that, Pard Bill,’ agreed the bowie man.

“Two-Sticks is coming this way on the keen jump. I
wonder if Juh is behind him? There’s no love lost be-
tween Juh and Two-Sticks.”

-“T shouldn’t think there would be, ater that quirting.
But I can’t see any reds behind the half-breed.”

Neither could the scout, and the breed's hurry. was a
puzzling matter for a few tnoments. When Two- -Sticks
drew reift, he ‘brought alarming news that satisfactorily
accounted for his haste.

_ “What's up, Two-Sticks ?”’ asked the scout.

“Heap plenty, yaas,’ was the answer. “I come for
you, muy pronto.” |

“T thought you would’ follow fhe when I left you on

the hill.”
“Nah. I. go the other way like scared coyote. Think
mebbeso I got enough of Pa-e-has-ka.. Pa-e-has-ka

thinks Two-Sticks uses the double tongue.”

“Your stock has risen, Two-Sticks. . I’m willing to ad-
mit, now, that you tell the truth occasionally.”

“Yaas. “You 'tind unr pard, save uni

“I’m found and saved,-Two-Sticks,” answered Pawnee
Bill. “How’s your face?” ,

The half-breed’s hand went up to his cheek, and he be-
gan the customary imitation of the army in Flanders.

“Stop!” ordered the scout. “You were in a hurry to

- get here and tell us something, a few, minutes ago. What.

1s ity
“Your pards in heap plenty trouble,” said T-wo-Sticks.

_ “Our pards in trouble?” repeated the scout. What
kind of trouble?” o
“Juh got um ee on et of hill. Me see um.”

« . “Trapped ®’
“Naas.
“Where?”
“Over so!’ Two-Sticks pointed.
come back to tell Pa-e-has-ka.”
The prince of the bowie groaned.
“And here am I without horse or pistol to my name!
said he. “Hello, Johnny Hardluck! Shake!”
“How many Indians with Juh?” asked the scout.
Two-Sticks held up both hands, then one hand.
“Fifteen!” exclaimed Pawnee Bill. “That’s a-plenty.”
The scout frowned perplexedly.
‘Have we time to ride to Half-a- Chance. aie: reén-
forcements, Two-Sticks?”

“Me see um, and me

Pd

“No got um time,” was the answer.
““has-ka help.”
Youer | es
f Yeas.”
Two-Sticks thumped his chest.
“You said there were fifteen reds!” -

“Yaas.) You lis’en: 7

“Me give. Pa-c-

 

Th)

oft - ABA et

fa sa
 

ER TT

 

e : THE BUFFALO

Two-Sticks went down on his knees in the sand.
thé handle of his quirt he described a small circle.
“Flere you see um hill,”

With

said he,
“That's a hill’ returned Pawnee Bill, “but it oks like
the hole in a doughnut.”

“Hole on top of hill,” went on the half-breed gravely, ,

“and Pa-e-has-ka’s pards in hole.’
“T waderstand, said -the  scotit,
Sticks.” ' :
The half-breed.drew a line along ‘one side of the hole
—a straight line.
“Here valley,” he explained: ,

“Hurry up, T'wo-

“Tats 4 ea that runs along one side ofthe hill.

Buenos! Go on.’

Two-Sticks made a large half circle around the small
circle representing the hill.

“Here ‘nother valley,”’ he expounded.

He made ten dots with the quirt handle, marshaling
them all along the curved line.

“Them Injun,” said he.

“Ten Indians are grouped around the base of the hill,”
returned the scout. =

On the straight line, at the the: side of the hill, Two-
Sticks made five dots.

“Here more Injun,” he remarked.

“Five Indians in the other valley,’

“Some Injuns got long guns.”

“What can we do against fifteen Injuns, some armed
with long guns?” inquired the bowie man.

“You listen.”

Two-Sticks continued the curved line around the hill,
givingit a sharp turn, and then a curve the other way.

“Here same valley, upper part,” said he. ‘Him be-
tween us and hill, you sabe. Wild mustangs in\ upper
valley. Mebbeso we- stampede caballos down valley,
round base of hill, eh? Juh no hurt um Victorio.. Vic-
torio. chase urn ’Paches off, Pa-e-has-ka save um pards.”

Pawnee Bill gave a whoop and jumped at Two-Sticks.

“You’re a breed, amigo, but shake!” said he. “You've
got a head for planning. Eh, necarnis?’”

“He has,” said the scout. “‘Let’s mount and ride.”

“Yaas,’ grinned Two-Sticks, as the bowie man re-
leased his hand.

The next moment they were mounted and traveling
swiftly into the ridge country.

’ said the scout.

CHAPTER XV.
IN THE NICK OF TIME.

The rain drenched the three pards ont the hilltop, but
they managed to keep their powder dry. A little water
didn’t count for much, anyway. Some of it collected in

a ee eee

   

BILE. STORIES. 25
the bottom of the basin, and the horses refreshed them-
selves with a drink. :

While the rain was coming down, Nomad, Cayuse, and
the baron kept positions on three sides of the rim, watch :
ing for an attack from below. No attack was made. .

“Ve'll holdt der fort like goot fellers,” declared the
baron, “aber vat a oo iss! Der Inchuns iss afraidt

flo come close. eg @

“They're playin’ their game at long range,’ “growled old
Nomad. ‘I’m goin’ ter try somethin’ jest fer a leetle
excitement,” he added. :

“Vat iss dot?” “

You watchin. * j ;

The old trapper leaned out of the basin and pried oe
a boulder, just beyond the rim. Down the steep slope
jumped the boulder, slithering through the wet soil,
crushing the chollas in its course, and making. two
Apaches at the foct of the hill tumble around like jump- _
ing jacks to get out of the way.

One of the Indians, in his haste, rigped and fell head-
first into a cactus. The boulder itself did no damage, but
one redskin had to pull the other out of the cactus by the
heels. After that he had to pick/the thorny ae out
of the other’s head.

The baron roared with delight, Leaning over the rim
of the “basin, he shook his fist and madg insulting faces.

‘Vat a lot oof squaws I don’d know!” he jeered. “For.
vy you durn handtsprings in a punch oof cacttts? Hoop-
a-la!”

Very likely the iidioas did not understand the oe S
talk, but his gestures, and the tones of his voice, were
plain enough.

A rifle spoke loudly. The baron saw the puff of smoke,
and dodged down just in 1 time—with hole number two in
his hat.

“Dey vill haf der hat full oof holes oof dey keep on,’
he remarked.

EE we ain't full er holes, too, we'll be lucky,” gr onder:
old Nomad. “I don’t reckon et does any good rollin’
down rocks, They kin see ‘em an’ dodge ’em.”

All the pards were under shelter of the rim, but over
the edge of the rim flew bullets with a sort of regularity.
One seemed to come about every thirty seconds, first on
ome side, then on the other, and then in the middle. The
lead just gfazed the rim and whistled on into space.

“For vy iss all dot shooding,” questioned the baron,
“ven dere don’d vas anyt’ing to shood at?”

“Them pizen critters hev got somethin’ up their pesky
sleeves,” answered the trapper.

‘Aber vat?”

“I’m goin’ ter find out. Hist yer hat on er stick, baron,
over on thet side ther basin. A few more holes in ther
cadi won’t make any diffrence, an’ et’ll draw ther fire
while I’m takin’ er look at ther hillside.”

 
26 THE BUFFALO

The baron took a picket pin from the end of one of the
picket ropes, put his hat over the point, and raised it.
The pin rang with a bullet that went through the hat.

Meanwhile, old Nomad had peered out of the hole. He
shouted angrily, pulled his ‘revolver, and fired twice.
Then he fell back. A yell of pain came from down the
hill. :

“Vat it iss, Nomat: 2” derfianded ibe Son

“They’ re playin’ er. slick game,’
atiswer.

“How?”

“Why, while some 0’ ther reds aire firin’, turn an’ turn
about, an’ keepin’ us down in this hyar hole, three more

‘aire creepin’ up ther hill.”

“Ach, du lieber!”’ gasped the baron. “Ve can’t shtandt
for dot! Der Inchuns vill be in on us, und den der chig
iss all oop but paying der bets. Vat shall ve do?”

. “Thar ain’t er thing we kin do,” returned the old trap-
per ‘gloomily, “but wait till them three Injuns shows
theirselves over the rim. Follerin’ thet, we kin do some
shootin’. Et won’t do fer us ter show ourselves. The
varmints with ther guns’ll pick us off. Ain’t this hyara
layout ter fret er man?”

“Better so we ride um caballos, make um dash down-
hill,” suggested Little Cayuse grimly. :
_ “Mebbe thet’s what the thing is comin’ to,’
trapper.

said the

“Say der vort un ve do dot!” eried the baron... “A
kevick run und meppe some oof us vill ged avay, oof nod
all.”

“Look ter yer ridin’ gear an’ yore hosses, then,” an-
swered Nomad, “‘an’ stand ready.”

The undertaking was desperate in the extreme. To get
over the rim with the horses, in the first place, was suff-
ciently difficult; but, if that move was successful, there

would follow the dash down the slope with every one of ©

the fifteen redskins firing at the flying targets.
. Old Nomad’s face was set and determined.

“Ole Hide-rack an’ me will go out fust, on ther right
side o’ ther basin,’ said he. “While the reds aire shootin’
at us, baron, you an’ Cayuse git out on ther left side, an’
scoot.”

“No, you don’d, olt shtick in adler mud,’ demurred’ the
baron. “I vill ged oudt on der righdt site meinseluf, und
you und Cayuse vill climb oudt on der odder site. You
vant all der dxcidement yourseluf, py shinks. It iss my.
right dot I haf a leedle meinseluf.”

“When Buffler er Pawnee ain’t eround,’ answered No-
mad sharply, “I’m in command.” ,

“Vell, den I make some repellions,” returned the baron
calmly. ‘I go py der righdt site now. Vatch!”

The baron climbed upon Toofer’s back. At the same
time both Nomad and Cayuse mounted. Before any move

was the weecu tit

|

Ai.

BILL STORIES. | ee,
could be made, a distant thudding of oe broke on the
ears of the three pards. ,

“Vat’s dot?” asked the startled baron.

“Sounds like hosses,” oe Nomad, listening.

“‘Caballos, heap many,’ put in ihe
stampede.’ f=

There were yells from the Sate and ‘is three pards
ventured to dismount and look over the rim.

Not a bullet was fired at them as they rode over the
basin’s edge. The reason was apparent.
on one side of the hill—ten of them—were mixed up in a
stampede of wild mustangs. The Apaches were on their
ponies, and their ponies were pie onward with the
press of mustangs.

“Waal, what d’ye think o’ shet | !” cried the old trapper.
“A stampede o’ wild mustangs happened along jest in
ther nick 0’ time ter save our bacon. Luck! Why, I
never heerd tell o’ sich er run o’ luck as thet: , Ev’ry
blamed Injun is bein’ kerried away from ther hill at ev
‘ lightnin’-express gait.” - a

“Und see, vonce!” piped the baron. “Dot vite musdang
iss in der lead! Vat a fine*horse it iss, py shinks! Dey
vas all fine horses.”

“Pa-e-has-ka!” tuned up Little Cayuse shrilly.

“What's thet ?” demanded the trapper.

Cayuse pointed in the direction from which the horses
had come. Nomad and the baron, following the boy’s
finger with their eyes, were able to see the scout, on
Bear Paw, with the prince of the bowie behind his saddle.

* Back of them rode a half-breed.

“Hoop-a-la!” exulted the baron.
heluped us oudt!
stampede, I bed you!

“More luck!” cried old Nomad, waving Hig hat and let-
ting out a stentorian yell.

“Ugh!” grunted Cayuse.
we chase this morning!”

“Thet’s some quare, too,” commented Nomad. “Why-
ever is. Buffler travelin’ with ther breed? I reckon ther
ombray must hev squared hisself with Buffler somehow.
We'll tide down an’ find out what’s what.”

Side by side the three pards surmounted the rim, of
the basin, Nomad leading Chick-Chick. At sight of the
"big buckskin there was a perceptible flutter on the part
of Pawnee Bill. The next moment he had dropped from
behind the scout’s saddle.

When the pards from above reached the bottom of the
slope; Pawnee Bill was there to receive his horse.

“Call me a greaser if I expected anything tice thas!’
he exclaimed joyfully. “Chick-Chick, old sport, Pye got
you back without a fight—and with a your furniture on!
Now, compadres, I’m myself again.”

ese

“Our olt bard has
He iss der vone who made der

12?

“Half-breed all same tinh6rn

Nomad cast off the reins, and Pawnee Bill arose to his
saddle. As he settled himself, Buffalo Bill rode up.

“Ef ye’d been five minits later with thet stampede, Buf-

All the Apaches™,

 

 

y

ny

 
 

SE see ee

Saini ocirna cin

ea ee

THE BUFFALO

Yl

fler,’” observed Nomad, “I reckon et wouldn’t hev helped
us.

“Why not?’ asked the scout.

“Wie was gittin’ ready ter make a run fer liberty. Ther
’Paches had us all hemmed in, an’ some 0’ ’em was shoot-
in’ over ther top o’ ther hole, up thar, so as ter keep
us down while some more o’ ther whelps was crawlin’
up on us.”

“Ach,” said the baron, rolling up his eyes, “it vas a
hardt blace vat ve vas in. Ve got oudt py der shkin oof
our eye vinkers.” :

“You fellows don’t know what a hard place is,” spoke
up the prince of the bowie. “If one of you had been
where I was, you’d have some excuse to talk.”

“Vere you vas, Pawnee?’ *

Pawnee told him, briefly but gr aphically. The baron
shivered.

“IT vould haf fainted fits righdt on der shpot!” he chat-
tered. “I nefer dit like shnakes, anyvays. Und der rain
made der shnake more able to ged at you! Vat a keveer
pitzness !”’

“Where'd my horse come from?” asked Pawnee.

Old Nomad told him about the horse. Pawnee Bill
turned to Cayuse.

“Another notch | ‘on your stick, son,” said he. "UE re-
member that.”
“What’s become o’ thet half-breed feller?’ inquired

old Nomad, rising in his stirrups and looking toward the
spot where Two-Sticks had been last seen.

The scout also made a quick survey in the same di-
rection,

“T’ll bet my spurs,” said he, “that. the half-breed has
skipped again. He saw that we didn’t need him, and
made off. He seems to be afraid to stick around with us.”
" “Hadn’t we better make off, too?” suggested Pawnee
Bill. “For Half-a-Chance, say. Six adobes stuck on a
hill would look pretty good to me about now.”

“Come on,” said: the scout. ‘We'll make for
before the Apaches | get clear i that stampede.”

The scout set the pace, and his pards trooped joy-
fully along at his heels.

town

>
%

CHAPTER XVI.
MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING.

“This whole affair,” remarked Buffalo Bill when he
and his pards had sttuck easy going and were well away
on their return journey to Half-a-Chance, “has been
mighty peculiar from start to finish.”

*“Tnstead of finding Wild Bill and getting him out of
trouble,” laughed the prince of the t bowie, “we all of us,
except the scout, got “into a little trouble on our own ac-

| fler.

“eSCOUL,

oe | ee

BIEL SIFORIES, M oF
count. As for the principal business that brought us to
Yellow Horse Cafion, why, that’s just where it was when
we left Half-a-Chance. We haven't done a thing to solve
the riddle about Hickok.”

“T was expecting Two-Sticks to help us out on that,”
returned Buffalo Bill. “I think the breed was ate
back something about Wild Bill.”

“Der Inchuns must haf got Vild Pill,” said the haba,
“Yah, so. Aber vy ditn’t ve see somet’ing oof Vild Pill
at der vater hole vere der Inchuns took deir vild mus-
dangs ??’

“Wild Bill’s affairs are still a good deal of a mystery
said the scout. “I feel as though we shouldn’t leave this
gang of ’Paches until we get some information about
Hickok.”

“We'll need more men than we have if we corral Juh
and his outfit, necarnis,” asserted the prince of the bowie.

‘We'll need our rifles, anyhow.”

“T’ll never come out on sich a hike ag’in without Scold-
in’ Sairy,” declared old Nomad. “O’ course we kain’t
give up Pard Hickok. We got ter hunt fer him. I
reckons, HOW thet these hyar red hoss hunters
won't pick up an’ leave re off. We kin spend ther
night in le -a-Chance, an’ then come back hyar ter-
morrer.’

“Properly equipped, for catching Indians,” supple-
mented Pawnee Bill. “This trip we’ve had much ado
about nothing.- Next time we pay Yellow Horse Cafion
and the surrounding country a visit, ‘it a be another
story.”

“Yah, so helup me! v feds the baron.

““The red horse hunters won't get away from these
parts,” asserted Buffalo Bill, “so long as the white mus-
tangs stays’ here.”

_ “For vy- iss dot ?”’

“Because, if what Two-Sticks said is true, Juh be-
lieves the white mustang is animated by the spirit of that
old pillager, Victorio.”

“Waugh!” exclaimed Nomad. “I don’t sabe thet, Buf-
“Come ag’in with et.”

“The half-breed said,’ went on the scout, “that when
Victorio was killed in Mexico, Chief Juh believed his
spirit went into that white mustang.”

Pawnee Bill leaned back in the saddle and laughed.

“On-she-ma-da, but that’s funny!” said he. “And. it
gets funnier the more you think of it. The idea of a
bunch of reds corralling such a notion as that! Why,
some of our best highbrows have knuckled under to that
idea hundreds of years ago.”

“T gather, from what Two-Sticks said,” procéeded the
“that Juh wants to capture the white horse, but that
the capture has to be made carefully so as not to injure
the animal. We have a reason there for the attack made
on Wild Bill after his unsuccessful attempt to rope the

 
   

28 THE BUFFALO

    
    
   
   
   
  
  
  
  
   
 
   
  
    
   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
   
  
  
    
  
  
  
     
   
  
   
   
 
   
    
   

mustang. Probably Hickok was rough, and Juh didn’t
like it.”

“Tt’s a question with me, necarnis, whether Juh believes
all that rot, or 1s merely playing it up for the benefit of
the reds who are with him. MHe’s a crafty fiend, that
Juh!”.

“Fé may have some purpose in this work that we can’t
tinderstand. When we come back here, though, perhaps
we'll get to the bottom of the mysterious business.”

“Und velcome pack do-mortrow | ?” asked the baron.

ea

But fate was to will otherwise about that. AN Het the
scout and his pards reached’ Half-a-Chance, about ¢ight

et

the horses over to Nomad, Cayuse, and the baron, and
went directly into their adobe. There was a light-in“the
mtd house, and the light had aroused the pards’ curios-
ity. They had a faint hope that perhaps Wild Bill was
there, waiting for them.

In this they were disappointed. Briggs, the cowboy,
was in the adobe, smoking his pipe and taking things easy.

—. “Reckoned. ye’d come,” said as “T been here an
hour, waitin’.”

“Anything new?’ asked the scout.

“A half-breed rode in totin’ a letter fer Buffler Bill.
The breed asked me whar you was, an’ I told him ye was
in the hills. Next the breed asked if any 0’ yore ‘pards
was eround, an’ I tells him all yer pards was in the hills
with ye. At that he hands over ther letter, asks me ter
give it ter ye when 7 come back, an’ rides off. So here
I am with the letter.”

Briggs handed over a much-soiled ene envelope.. “It
was addressed, in Wild Bill’s familiar scrawl, to “Buf-
falo Bill, at Half-a-Chance.”’

The scout tore open the envelope, billed! | ott the sheet,
and began to read. Understanding dawned on his face as
his eyes traveled over the writing, and at last he lowered
the letter, sat back in his chair, and laughed.

“Is it humorous?” grinned Pawnee Bill.

“Yes,” answered the scout,
a wild-goose chase that saddle and war bag have given
Lisi eat

“Weren't they Wild Bill's?”

“They were.”

Toc eure that letteris:trom PHickok 2’

“Vl swear to that, Pawnee.”

*Then read it out loud, necarnis, so we can all en-
joy it.”

Nomad, the baron, and Little Cayuse came into the
adobe from the corral. The situation was explained to
them, and all the pards grouped around the scout while
he read the letter from Wild Bill Hickok.

9-99

‘Amigo; read the scout, “lf you happen to. run
across a pockmarked breed riding my saddle and pulling
\ at my bridle reins, kindly nab him and oblige. Said

  
 

  

o'clock that evening, Buffalo Bill and Pawnee Bill’turned.,

a : 2
“when you consider what

 

BILL STORIES. m=

breed stole said saddle and bridle, along with rope, and
war bag, from the town of San Simone. He may be up
in that part of the country, or he may be in some other
part of the country. Ae a Visalia saddle, and#worth
money. et

The scout dr ‘opped the letter to smile at his pards.

“You see how it was, compadre?”’ he asked, “Hickok’s
accouterments were stolen by a half-breed, and it was
the half-breed that tried to rope the white stallion, and,
in the attempt, lost rope, saddle, and war bag—all of
which were later found by the baron, When the baran
brought in the demoralized, riding gear, we put two and
two together, the best we nang how, and decided that
Wild Bill was in trouble with the red horse hunters. The
mistake was natural, under’ the circumstances, As Pard

_ Pawnee’ has already aptly remarked, we have just had

‘much ado about nothing.” Two-Sticks told me that a
half-breed had tried to rope the white mustang, that he
_ had lost his gear, and that Juh had killed him, I’m be-
ginning to bank pretty heavily on the truth and veracity
of Two-Sticks.”

“He sartinly hit et off erbout ther pockmarked half-
breed, Buffler,” said old Nomad. “Ain't et quare how
things stack up, now an’ ag’in? Is thar somethin’ more
ter thet letter?” if

esp i read.it. “Pardon: for not “ening Half-a-
Chance according to schedule, but I’lf be there on Wednes-
day of this week. I have hot work in prospect for all
hands—plenty of excitement for Nomad and the baron
—so kindly wait and give me the usual helping hand.
By gorry, how I’ve missed you all! Regards to the
pards.’ That’s the whole of it,’ finished the scout, put-
ting the letter away in his pocket.

“Of course we'll wait till Wednesday!” exclaimed
Pawnee Bill. “That’s only day after to-morrow.” .

“Und hear. vat he say,’ cackled the baron joyously.
“He has plendy oof oxcidement for me und olt Nomat!
I like dot Vild Pill feller, I bed you.”

“He's a king-pin,” asserted the prince of the bowie.

“Yah, so,’ said the baron; “und now, mit mooch habbi-
ness, ve vill broceed to ged somet’ing to eat.”

THE. END.

Pretty clever villains, those Apaches, eh? It would
seem a bit hard to beat the torture they fixed up for
Pawnee Bill in this stofy; but, nevertheless, they played

a game with a poor soldier that fell into their hands,

which made the rattlesnake torture look easy. You'll
read about it in “Buffalo Bill’s Dangerous Duty; or,
Pawnee Bill and the White Stallion”—out next week—
No. 496. While waiting at Half-a-Chance for Wild
Bill Hickok to arrive, the pards found themselves in a
new bunch of adventures; and it looked, for a while,
as though some of them might never have a chance to
meet Pard Hickok. Don’t miss the story. It’s great!

 

ie ase

 

  
 

 

   

THE BUFFALO

 

 

 

 

 

te

a
>

NEW YORK, November 5, 1910.

}
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Orxmonp G, Sura,

i se
Grorce C, Smiru, lp roprietors

 

a

A DEED OF DARING.

Several years ago, Archibald Deane and his son, Jeptha,
started a sheep ranch on the Mimbres River, in Southwestern
New Mexico.

Despite its monotony and loneliness, the wild, free life
held strong attractions for Jeptha, who was then a stout
lad of seventeen. |

Game was plentiful; the prowlings and depredations, of
mountain lions added an occasional zest of danger and ex-
citement; and frequent trips to the nearest military post va-
ried the weekly routine.

There was also an abundance of work to be done. There
were many scrubby trees in the near vicinity, and they built
their own house of poles and brush cut from these.

It was not an elegant structure, nor overstrong, but it,

and the thatched roof shielded them from the

was roomy,
sufficient to turn the

beating sun, and was. deemed amply
rains that came only at rare intervals.

They apprehended no danger from Indian raids, for the
only savages at that time liable to give trouble were the Chiri-
cahua Apaches, whose reservation was a long distance to
the westward, in Arizona.

That first season was a profitable as well as a busy one.
The thousand sheep increased td’ fifteen hundred, and the
wool clip netted enough to more than pay the expenses, in-
cluding the cost of marketing and the wages of the Mexicans
whom Mr. Deane brought up from the neighborhood of Lake
Guzman to assist in the shearing.

The winter passed quietly, with the exception of an occa-
sional storm, and spring came once more, with its refresh-
ing rains and luxuriant grass. sae

In May, Mr. Deane made arrangements to again visit the
Lake Guzman country in search of shearers. ‘

The day before the one fixed for the commencement of the
journey, a miner from the silver regions of Southern Arizona
knocked at the door of their hut. —

He was on his way to Socorro and Albuquerque, and hoped
by coming that way to strike a stage trail leading northward
from Mexico to those points, and also do some prospecting
while en route.

His clothing was torn and dusty, his face had a troubled
look, and he was greatly fatigued.

“Better not make the trip,” he said, when he had satisfied
‘his hunger and exchanged his confidences with Mr. Deane
and Jeptha. “I was thinking whether I ought to tell you or
not. .It may give you a scare for nothing, and there mayn't

BILL STORIES.

@

29

really be anything of it, but it’s my opinion that the Chiri-
cahuas are preparing for a raid. Some of em are out in the
hills now, a hundred miles or so back, and they’re in war
paint. The military gwouldn’t believe it, probably; but I
know a thing when I see it with my own eyes,

“A lot of the young bucks have sneaked away from the
reservation and are.getting ready to make trouble. Still, they
may go back to the reservation, and nothing come of it, I
can’t say. But what 1 saw made’me cut sticks for tall tim-
ber: and, if I were you, Mr. Deane, I wouldn't leave the
ranch for a week or so yet, of until 1 found out what those
Chiricahuas are up to.”

The next morning the miner took his departure, and Mr. |
Deane rode over to the post to see if.the officers had any °
knowledge of a threatened outbreak. They had heard noth-
ing, and were inclined to scout the idea that any Indians
were off their reservation.

They promised, however, that they would send a messen-
ger to the Chiricahua agency, and, if the report was con-
firmed, would notify Mr. Deane, and take steps to protect
him and his property. :

The miner, they argued, had seen a hunting party of Yumas
or other friendly Indians, and his fears had exaggerted this
peaceful party into a band of the dreaded Chiricahuas ready
for the warpath.

The opinion of the officers somewhat quieted Mr. Deane’s
fears: but, in the interest of safety, he postponed his trip to
Lake Guzman, and set to work to strengthen the house to
resist an attack should one be made.

To do this, oblong blocks of tough sod were cut with a
spade and built up against the walls of the house. But, as
cutting and laying up these blocks was very laborious, and
their time was necessarily much occupied in other ways, the
work progressed so slowly that not more than three feet of
the wall was completed during the following week.

As the days passed and no outbreak occurred, they began
to think, with the officers, that the miner had been mistaken,
and their watchfulness greatly relaxed.

One evening, while Mr. Deane was riding through the
foothills a few miles west of the ranch, in search of a missing
pair of mules, his pony shied violently when near the mouth of
a cafion. :

The movement doubtless saved the life of its rider, for,
the next instant, a bullet whistled past his head. The shot
was fired from.the shelter of a group of pines.

Before the telltale smoke had floated away, a number of
mounted Chiricahuas dashed into view, and thundered toward
him. They were stripped to the skin, with the exception of
a breechclout, and were well mounted and armed.

Mr. Deane was startled by the sudden appearance of this
formidable and bloodthirsty force; but he did not lose his
presence of mind.

The pony on which he was mounted was a remarkably
fast one. It was Jeptha’s; and the lad held it in such esteem
that he had once refused a large price for it.

As the pony wheeled in flight, the Indians began to yell,
doubtless for the purpose of confusing its rider. When they
had settled down into a steady race, however, their cries
ceased. y

Mr. Deane, lookifig back, could see that they were belabor-
ing their animals, and straining every nerve to come up with
him before he succeeded in reaching the house.

It was a desperate race, but the ranchman won; and when
the Apaches saw they could not oyertake him, they drew
back into the fringing bush.

Jeptha’s face blanched when Mr. Deane dismounted at
the door of the house and told his story.

“Don’t show yourself,” was the command. “They will not
attack us for a few minutes. I’ll run the hay wagon in front
of the door, and tie the pony to it on the side next the house.
It will carry double for a short distance; if we haye to make

a break, we'll want it near. We'll try to beat those fellows
“6

  
 

30 THE: BUFFALO

off. If we can’t, we'll have to trust to the pony. If it’s shot,
its body and the wagon will block the way to the door.”

‘His tones were not very hopeful.

When the wagon and pony were in position, they Hace
such preparations as they could think of.

There was another pony out on the range, but it could not

now be brought in. Neither could any sweter be fetched from -

the river, though their supply was vety low, consisting of

only a few cupfuls in a wooden pail.

The Apaches did not long remain concealed. When they
drew near, they began to ride Swi about'the house, shield-
ing their bodies behind their ponies, and seriding a constant

shower of bullets crashing through the flimsy walls.

The inmates soon. discovered that their only safety lay in
crouching onthe floor behind the sheltering blocks of sod.
Just above the sod line they broke loopholes in the brushy
upper structure.
ages were doing, though such eae was only gained
by the most perilous exposure

The poor pony fell at the first ied, thus destroying all hope
_ of escaping by means of it, and Jeptha’ s heart sank as he saw
his favorite lying dead.

As night was now at hand, Mr. Deane believed they might
be able to effect their escape under cover of the darkness.
But just as the deepening shadows gave promise of aiding
them, they made the startling discovery pay the house was

on fite.,

One of the Apaches had crawled Ce through the
- grass, and succeeded in igniting the thatch.
“We must run for it,” said Mr. Deane, as the smoke began
to swirl inward in suffocating gusts. “If we can once get
out of the house and get the start of them, we may yet man-
age to escape, for an Apache will not travel far after dark?’

He buckled his cartridge belt about his waist, and pro-
ceeded to remove a portion of the brush forming the rear
wall. But at the same instant they heard the sound of pat-
tering feet, followed by a heavy thump on the door.

“Through with you!” he commanded, thrusting a revolver
and cartridge belt into Jeptha’s hands and pushing him into
the opening. “We haven’t any time to lose.”

Jeptha wriggled through the hole. Then the door flew
from its frail hinges as another thunderous blow fell upon it.

Mr. Deane had his head in the opening and was making
frantic efforts to force himself through, his bulkier form
impeding his movements.

Jeptha heard a cry from the Apaches and an Jeena
from his father. The blinding smoke hung like a thick pall
about the place, while the half rotten thatch refused to burn
readily.

He halted for an instant, and hearing nothing but the
exultant cries of the Apaches, was convinced that his father
had been killed.

There was a group of sehabhy trees with thick ae
growth only a few feet from the wall, and into this shelter he

crawled as quickly as possible.

From this point he could see something of what was oc-

curring; and as the attention of the Apaches seemed wholly
drawn to the front and interior of the house, he decided he
had not been observed.

His first idea was to continue his flight and try to reach
the river; but the thought that his father thight still be alive
induced him to crouch beneath the sheltering “scrub and await
developments.

A little later he was glad pe had done so, for Mr. Deane.
was brought out of the smoking hut, securely bound, and
tossed unceremoniously on the grass.

The fire in the thatch smoldered dismally, and seemed .

about to go out. The Apaches did not rekindle it, but having
disposed of Mr. Deane, began to ransack the house.

At this Jeptha breathed freer, taking the action as an indi-
“cation that his presence was not even suspected. '
Bedding, clothing, blankets, flour, meal, coffee—everything,
in fact, was brought out and thrown ina confused heap near

Fd
é

5

Through them they could see what.the sav- .

BILL STORIES.

"the door.“ Why his father’s life had been spared Jeptha could

not at first imagine. The Chiricahuas do not i take
prisoners.

But when, a few moments later, he saw the missing mules
driven up to the door ous the captive unbound, light began to
break in on him.

They intended to re their captive harness the mules to
the wagon and haul the plundered articles to some point; then
they would kill him, pack the articles on their ponies, and

continue their flight into the mountains.

Two of the Apaches remained to guard Mr. Deane while
he ‘was engaged in the task of harnessing the mules and load- .
ing the big hay wagon, and the others began an indiscrimi-
nate slaughter of the helpless sheep that were huddled in a
scared bunch near the river.

' While anxiously watching the movements of the two’
Apaches, an idea occurred to Jeptha that caused his breath to
come in quick gasps, and his heart to beat violently.‘

He had been wondering if there might not be some way
in which he could aid hisefather and save him from the ter-.

_rible death that apparently Nang and the idea came as

the result of his thought.

When the wagon was loaded, Mr. Deane was again bound,
and his guards “turned their attention to thé pret uae that
was going on among the sheep. :

This was Jeptha’s opportunity. oF

The rear end of the wagon was quite near the corner of

- the house closest to him. Crawling stealthily from beneath

the shrubbery, he crept to this corner, and with his head

-- pressed closely against the ground, peered out at the guards.

Their eyes were fixed on the dimly lighted flat by the river.

With a quick spring he gained the wagon, crawled into it,
and drew over himself a pile of blankets.

He could scarcely breathe in this position, but by burrow-
ing a little deeper, he was able to thrust his face into the
opening between two of the slats that formed the bottom of
the hayrack. The Indians who had been amusing theffiselves
in such a wanton manner, came back in a short time. They
were laughing uproariously. The sight of the harnessed
mules and loaded wagon seemed to increase their hilarity ;

and in a spirit of grim humor they proceeded to pile their

blankets and extra accounterments on the heap, so weighting

“it that Jeptha began to think he would be crushed.

Then Mr. Deane’s hands were loosed, and he was forced to
a seat on the miniature mountain, and the journey began, the
Apaches prodding the driver and mules mercilessly with their
sharp lances.

As Mr. Deane had said, an Apache does not ‘like travel
after nightfall, and when they had proceeded two or three
miles from the still smoking house they went into camp.

After feasting to repletion off the good things obtained in
the pillage, they turned in for the night.

The prisoner was placed on his back between two of the
Chiricahuas, thongs being passed from his bound wrists to
the wrists of his guards, so that it would be almost impossible
for him to make a movement without arousing them.

When everything was quiet, Jeptha slowly and carefully
removed the blankets that weighted down his arms and. shoul-
ders, and thrust his head, tortoiselike, out of the heap.

Only a small fire had been built, and all that remained of
it was a few glowing embers. But by their light he was able
to see his father and the guards.

The prospect was not cheering. He knew, Geceres that
what he did must be done that night, as the “wagon would
doubtless be abandoned the next day.

He waited two hours before making any further movement.
Then, deciding that the Apaches were soundly sleeping, he
slipped to the “ground and began to crawl slowly toward the
place where his father lay. His pocketknife, with the keen- -
est blade open, was between his teeth. Once one of the
guards tossed uneasily, and Jeptha, thinking he had been
discovered, half rose to his feet with the intention of flight.

_ There was about a yard of space between Mr. Deane and
a os

 

 
 

 

THE BUFFALO

cach of his guards. The boy

his father’s side and cut his bonds and the thongs that at-

tached his wrists to thoS€ of the sleeping Chiricahuas. Then

they could slip away from the camp together and make their

escape. It was a daring idea and one. worthy ‘a hero.
Success in this effort A

obtained from the ranch house that their’
than a.state of deep torpor.

They were all young braves; there were no old heads
among them. to advise moderation and caution, and in-conse-
quence their gross appetites had led them to gluttony: and
carelessness. _ :

Inch by inch Jeptha crept forward, the fitful and fantastic
shadows, playing over the dark mounds that marked the
places where the Apaches lay sleeping.

Off to the left he could hear the ponies as they cropped
the crisp grass. Every sound was magnified into startling
distinctness. : : \

This slow progression finally brought him between the
gyards and close to his father’s feet. Without lifting his
h¥ad from the earth, he reached his right hand forward and
touched his father. .

Fortunately, Mr.: Deane was awake, his.mental torture
having been too great to allow him to close his eyes in slum-
ber. Turning slightly, he at once became aware that an
effort was being made to release him.

The knowledge caused him to be seized with a violent fit
of trembling. But this soon passed away, and he moved his
feet cautiously to show that he was on the alert. Then

eep was little less

Jeptha crawled to his ‘side, severed the thongs and bonds, ; n he [
* circled the pen, yelping in fear and dismay, and when he

and backed away as he had come.

Mr. Deane was not long in following him; and when, five
minutes later, they stood together beyond the camp, he
clasped: Jeptha in his arms and wept for joy. He had given
up all hope, and resigned himself to the death that he be-
lieved awaited him on the morrow. :

Knowing that the escape was liable to be discovered at
any moment, they hurried from the dangerous vicinity as
rapidly as possible. Mr: Deane was so stiff from the cramped
position he had so long been compelled to assume, that at
first he could searcely walk. But this wore away as his
blood began to warm with the exercise.

When day broke, they concealed themselves among some
rocks on the crest of a ridge that commanded a good view of
the country they -had traversed.

But they were not followed, the Apaches doubtless think-
ing it inadvisable to make another movement in the direction
of the post.

That afternoon they continued their flight, and succeeded
in reaching the post the following morning, half dead from
hunger, thirst, and exhaustion.

Troops were sent in pursuit of the raiding Chiricahuas;
and it may be some satisfaction to the reader to know that
they were overtaken and summarily punished.

Vie after abandoned his ranch, and, with
Jeptha, moved back to civilization; but the heroic act of the
latter is still a part of the unwritten annals of New Mexico.

 

FOOLING A STRANGER.

In the early days of Lincoln, Nebraska, an Eastern man
arrived with a fair-sized dog at his heels, and it was plain
enough to every one who looked,the canine over that he
wasa fighter. After supper we began to chin the man about
his dog, and the way he did brag that animal up was some-
thing wonderful. It was so wonderful that some of the
boys conspired to put up a job on him, and by and by one of
them led off with: °-

“Stranger, did you ever see a coyote?”

“No, I never did,” ee

“Do you know what they are like?” .

“Why, I’ve always understood that they were a sort of
wild dog, and very cowardly.” :

\.

fi

uld have been well-nigh impossible ,
if the Apaches had not so gorged pemsagyes on the supplies —

BIL! STORIES. ee

 

oh oe a: Le ae

Reel

thought it possible to crawl to » “You wonldn’t want to match that dog of ee against a

coyote, would you?” rt ae
“I don’t want to insult my dog, sir!”

“Well, now, mebbe you don’t want to see your dog git

licked’ into the grass-in about three minutes !”
“By a coyote?”

 

s ,

oor

“You bet !” oe crete — o>

“For how much?” >

“Say twenty dollars.” -

“"Where’s your animal?”

“Down behind the barn in a pen.
two days ago,” —

ff

“Tl go twenty dollars that my dog licks him inside of two.

minutes.”
“Done slg

The hotel man owned a Newfoundland about as big as a
calf, and to disguise him the two boys had dashed him with
flour until he was as white as a sheep. He was in a dog —

house back of the barn, and when all was ready we took
lanterns and went out. There was a rail pen about twenty
feet square in the rear. of the barn, and it was agreed that
the stranger should turn his dog into this.

“You see,” explained the chief conspirator, “a coyote must
have room'to manceuvre. He may want to run and he may
want to fight.” ' tgs

“Oh, he'll want to ran fast enough,’

replied the owner of
the dog.

He was captured only

The dog in the house was looking out. He made no move. -

until he saw the other canine. Then he shot out like a
cannon ball, uttered one roar, and the little dog was flung
five feet high. When he came down he took leg bail and

found a place where he could squeeze through he wriggled
out. It all occurred in less than a minute, and as the stranger
realized what had happened, he gasped: Sie Ses
“Great Scott! but the coyote has licked him!”
“Square and fair,” added the conspirator, “and I pre-
sume you are ready to give up the stakes.” Le
“Oh, certainly, certainly, but ws
“Out withmit. This is a square deal.”
“Well, I see my mistake. I had got things mixed.
the grizzly bear which is a skulker and a coward, while the

 

coyote is a holy terror to anything. The money is yours, |

gentlemen, but you can bet they don’t catch me on this lay
again.
three dogs like mine

ie

1?

MESSAGES FOR TWO.

Call Boy (snap theatrical company )—“Twenty-seven men
at the stage door with bills, and three reporters, want. to
know if it’s true the company is in financial straits.”
_ Manager—*Tell the. bill collectors that I haven’t a cent.
Tell the reporters that the rumor that we are short of cash
is the work of envious rivals.”

SORRY HE SPOKE. oy
During the Franco-Prussian war, when all kinds of food
were at famine prices in Paris, a student went into a shop,
and asked the price of the only Dutch cheese in stock.
“It is eighty francs, monsieur,” replied the shopkeeper.
“Eighty franes!” cried the student, “why, the cheese has
been eaten by rats, as you see, and I teally believe there is
one*in the middle of it now.”
“Ah!” exclaimed the shopkeeper; “then that will make a
difference in the price, ofycourse. If there is a rat inside the
cheese I must charge you-one hundred francs for it.’

A SURPRISE.

ey ® ‘ , \ :
Great Statesman (proudly )—‘I believe that boy of mine

will some day be prominent in politics.”
Business Man—‘‘My gracious!
a temperance society.”

Leis,

Why, your durned coyote is big enough to’ eat up

&

I thought he belonged to —

 
  

e

 

 

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obtained from this office direct. Fill out the foll
us with the price of the Weeklies you want and we will send them to Cie by return mail. POSTAGE "STAMPS TAKEN THE SAME AS MONEY. us

 

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STREET & SMITH, 79-89 Seventh Acne New York iy. ai I Ae Ce veeseseseseeeesend90
Dear Sirs: Enclosed please find........cc0c00 Meee eget cents for which send me:

TIP TOP WEEKLY, —_iNos....... Roshan yea cede ee BUFFALO BILL STORIES, Nos...... Soy ia cee sh eeaeesnarees

NICK CARTER WEEKLY, “ <..........2..00..... Ween ee | BRAVE AND BOLD WEEKLY, “ ed erey eos vabsctaneaceee

DIAMOND DICK WEEKLY, “0.00.02..0..00..0cccccceeee. ee en aS

  
 

Meginie Me cel aVCHED wee cc co ticee ce eele rep iencet o7ShOEGs c¢4 cans voce

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BUFFALO BILL STORIES

 

ISSUED EVERY TUESDAY

BEAUTIFUL COLORED COVERS

 

 

There is no need of our telling American readers how interesting the stories of the adventures

of Buffalo Bill, as scout and plainsman, really are.

weekly for many years, and are voted to be masterpieces dealing with Western adventure.
Buffalo Bill is more popular to-day than he ever was, and, consequently, everybody ought to

know all there is to know about him.

In no manner can

the actual habits and life of this great man, as by reading the BUFFALO BILL STORIES.

You can have your news-dealer

We give herewith a list of all of the back numbers in print.

These stories have been read exclusively in this

ou. become so thoroughly acquainted with

order them or they will be sent direct by the publishers to any address upon receipt of the price in
money or postage-stamps.

245—Buffalo
250—Buffalo
252—Buffalo
253—-Buffalo
254—Buffalo
256—Buffalo
258—Buffalo
264—Buffalo
267—Buffalo
272—Buffalo
273—Buffalo
274—Buffalo
275—Buffalo
278—Buffalo
280—Buffalo
283—Buffalo
285—Buffalo
287—Buffalo
288—Buffalo
292—Buffalo
293—Buffalo
298—Buffalo
299—Buffalo
305—Buffalo
306—Buffalo
308—Buffalo
309—Buffalo
312—Buffalo
314—Buffalo
315—Buffalo
316—Buffalo
319—Buffalo
321—Buffalo
324—Buffalo
325—Buffalo
326—Buffalo
327—Buffalo
328—Buffalo
329—Buffalo
330—Buffalo
331—Buffalo
332—Buffalo
333-—Buffalo
334—Buffalo
335—Buffalo
336—Buffalo

337—Buffalo.

338—Buffalo
339—-Buffalo
340—Buffalo
341—Buffalo

342—Buffalo Bil

343—Buffalo
344—Buffalo
345—Buffalo
346—Buffalo
348—Buffalo
349— Buffalo
350—Buffalo
351—Buffalo
352—Buffalo
353—Buffalo
354—Buffalo
355—-Buffalo
356—Buffalo
357—Buffalo
358— Buffalo
359—Buffalo
360—Buffalo
362— Buffalo
363—Buffalo
364— Buffalo

If you want an
from this office.

Bilis) WoOsty Ouatryivecwe.c v4).

Billonea hong Hunt... 710.. 5

Bill and
Bill’s Bold Challenge.......
Bill’s Shawnee Stampede....

the Redskin Wizard 5
5

Bill on a Desert Trail...... 5

Billsin Tehe Quarters ...5). 3
Bill and the Bandits in Black
Bill in the Canyon of Death.
Buls a Dusky Drailers...1,.°..'.

Bill’s Diamond Mine........ 5D

Bill and the

Pawnee Serpent £

Bill’s Scarlet Hand......... 5

Bill’s Daring Plunge........
Bills; Ghost Raidsa:. ee a2
BUD ea SEUMTP iis. sics> poets
Bill’s Master-stroke.........
Bill and the Brazos Terror...
Bill’s Dance of Death.......
Bill’s Medicine-lodge........
AMAT ROME elec alo lg etsy
Bill’s: Black Eagles..........

gx
Bill’s Desperate Dozen...... 5
Bill and the Barge Bandits. 5

Bill, the Desert Hotspur....

Bill’s Whirlwind Chase..... 5

Bill’s Red Retribution......
Bis Death Jumps... 3.648
Bill in the Jaws of Death....
Bill’s Aztec
Bill’s Dance with Death.....
Bill’s
Bilis: Gy Psyi Band! orn vex ck
Bill’s Gold Hunters.........
Bill in Old

Rumnersso 6635). 5

Mazeppa Ride....... uaeD

MGXI COM. Gini a alas 5

Bill’s Message from the Dead 5
”

Bill and the Wolf-master....
Bills Flying Wonder.......
Bill’s Hidden Gold...... Ne
Bis Ouelaw. earailivn. 6.500%
Bill and the Indian Queen...
Bill and the Mad Marauder. .
Bill’s, Ice Barricade: ..%.065'..
Bill and the Robber Elk.....
Bill’s Ghost Dance.........
BUS sPeace-pipe «os foes ese

Bill’s Red Nemesis......... D

Bill’s Enchanted Mesa......
Bill in the Desert of Death..
Bilt s Pay Streak ore Oe es
Bill on Detached Duty......
i Arm Mystery (3 323.0..
SUL LISCPaTLy esau vs
Great Rides sore ou,
WATCH SD TaAUT i6 lriita niet.
Ordesivor Mires
Bill’s Casket of Pearls......
Bilbstis kv wPlot ces na
LS SL OteM eee ei seine
Bill’s Flat-boat Drift.......

ill’s
Bill’s

Bill’s
Bill’s
Bill’s

WU LON LDC a. oie ae ne g
Bill and the Broneo Buster... £
Bills Great Round-up...... F

BITS CORE rea mate! Noe
Bill’s Cowboy
Bill and the Emigrants......
Bill Among the Pueblos.....
Bill’s Four-footed Pards....
BUS VP TOUELe oer se ee ies
SAMS sR GKAUDisnsi snore chet e aes
DEUS OUEST coc ta eae ae
sl’s) Wait of tha: Plains:....

PAV ote ere c :

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366—Butffalo
367—Buffalo
368—Buffalo
369—Buffalo
370—Buffalo
371—Buffalo
372—Buffalo
374—Buffalo
375—Buffalo
377—Butffalo
378—Buftalo
379—Buffalo
380—Buffalo
381—Buffalo
382—Buffalo
383—Buffalo
3884—Buffalo
3885—Buffalo
386—Buffalo
387—Butffalo
388—Buffalo
389—Buffalo
390—Buffalo
391—Buffalo
392—Buffalo
393—Buffalo
394—Buffalo
395—-Buffalo
896—Buffalo
397—Buffalo
898—Ruffalo
899—Buffalo
400—Buffalo
401—Buffalo
402—Buffalo
403— Buffalo
404—Bi ffalo
405—Buffalo
406—Ruffalo
407—Buffalo
408—Buffalo
409—Buffalo
410—Bnffalo
411—Buffalo
412—Ruffalo
413—Buffalo
414—Buffalo
415—Buffalo
416—Buffalo
417—Buffalo
418—Buffalo
419—Buffalo
421—Buffalo
422—Buffalo
423—Buffalo
424—Buffalo
425—Buffalo
426—Buffalo
427—Buffalo
428—B1ffalo
429—Buffalo
430—Buffalo
431—Bnuffalo

Bill Among the Mormons....
BUS hvASSISTATICOCRan iret. Weave inns
Bill’s Rattlesnake Trail.....
Bill and the Slave-Dealers... £
Bills cStrong Armenia.
Bills “Gare Pardini rca. s
Bill’s Iron Bracelets......
Bill’s Jade Amulet.........
Bill’s Magic Lariat.........
Bill’s Bridge of Fire........
BES BOWIE? i delor ites siecote su suene
Bills Pay-streake oe c5c70).) eae
BU Sr MAN Otis eran, vias wale cee 6
Bills) Clean-up sicher. av syeses's 5
BUS aRISe sys miniuicleerenetors la
Bill Overboard...... aig ate shan
Ba So INS poy y i Lid iea enertie foles
Bill’s Big Contract......... gE
Bill and Caiamity Jane.....
Bills: Kadi Pardee teieses. 5S
Bill’s Desperate Plight......
Bill’s Fearless Stand.......
Bill and the Yelping Crew...
Bill’s Guiding Hand........
Bill’s Queer Quest. 027 ois
Bill’s Prize “Getaway”’......
Bill’s Hurricane Hustle..... 6
Bile State tela viseicserciecte.e :
LIS ey Ties aust ase elle se) oes “one os
Bi A APL ACK CLS e 5s dee terece 67476 5
Biul’s Dutch Pard..........
Bill and the Bravo... ...... f
Bill and the Quaker....... f
Rill’s Package of Death..... f
Bill’s Treasure Cache....... c
Bills Privates War vie ccs eo. i
Bill and ihe Trouble Hunter !
Bill and the Rope Wizard.. !
Billig SMlestaw ce creas viele :
Bill Among the Cheyennes.. |
Bill Besieged oi. ci ieee conse
Bill and the Red Hand...... ;
Bill’s Tree-trunk Drift...... i
Bill and the Specter........ f
Bill and the Red Feathers...
Bills Wing (Strokes. sccsiccers. «
Bill, the Desert Cyclone.....
Bill’s Cumbres Scouts.......
Bill and the Man-wolf......
Bill and His Winged Pard..
Bill at Babylon Bar... ..... &
Bia Sons AVM as esis 6 ered i
Bill’s Steel Arm Pard...... F
Bills Aztec: Guide. sai. 272 E
Bill and Little Firefly......
Bill-in the Aztec City......
Bill’s Balloon Escape....... 5
Bill and the Guerrillas......
Bills, Border; Ware.4.4 0027
Bill’s Mexican Mix-up.......
Bill and the Gamecock..... 5
Bill and the Cheyenne Raiders 5
Bill’s Whirlwind Finish..... a

469

 

432—Buffalo
38—Buffalo
434—Butffalo

4385—Buffalo

436—Butffalo
437—Buffalo
438—Buffalo
439—Buffalo
440—Buffalo
441—Buffalo
442—Buffalo
443—Buffalo
444—Buffalo
445—Buffalo
446—Buffalo
447—Buffalo
448—Buffalo
449—Buffalo
450—Buffalo
451—Buffalo

452—Buffalo
453—Burffalo
454—Buffalo
455—Buffalo
456—Burffalo
457—Buffalo
458—Buffalo
459—Buffalo
460—Buffalo
461—Buffalo
462— Buffalo
463—Buffalo
464—Buffalo
465—Buffalo
466—Butffalo
467—Buffalo
468—Buffalo
Buffalo
470—Buffalo
471-—Buffalo
472—-Buffalo
473—Butftalo

'474—Buffalo

475—Buffalo
476—Buffalo
477—Buffalo
478—Buffalo
479— Buffalo
480—-Buffalo
481—Buffalo
482—Buffalo
483—-Buffalo
484—Buffalo
485—Buffalo
486—Buffalo
487—-Buffalo
488—Buffalo
489—Buffalo
490—Buffalo
491—Buffalo
492— Buffalo
493—Buffalo

sill’s Santa Fe Secret......

Bill ‘and the Taos Terror.... 5

Bill’s Bracelet of Gold......
Bill and the Border Baron...
3ill at Salt River
Bill’s Panhandle

RANCHE .22-D
Man-bunt.. 5

Bill at Blossom Range...... 5
Bill and Juniper Joe........ E

PSUS SCOOP ie: 1/64/6605) 0 I>

Pal ayo ClCAPWATEIy 676 oes ois ci

Bilis cewinming Hand sis... 00.
BiisSm Om Cha Claim. ic. si ic15'
Bills GOmrages en yi. ees ec ts sc
Bill in the Bad Lands......
Bill and the Boy Bugler....
Bill and the Heathen Chinee.
Bill and the Chink War..

Bill's “Chinese Chase. ....°. 0.
Bill’s Secret Message.......
Bill and the Horde

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Bill’s Lonesome Trail....... 5
BTS OUR AG eta wiliess ei oe f
Bill in Deadwood........... F

BSUS MBPS GAN Ces tyne eer,

Bill and Old Moonlight...... E

Bill

Bill's
Bill’s
Bill’s
Bill’s
Bill’s

ARO W DAC Keates ch exe ale
SSE SUG MUISEOIN 78.05 6045.
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“Winged Victory’’.....
Pieces-of-Hight........

Bill and the Eight Vaqueros !

Bill's; Uniticky Siesta i...
Bills: Apaehe: Ole wwe icc. 6
Bill and the Apache Totem..
Bill’s Golden Wonder.......
BILLS Biestadg INISH te vies aye
Bill and the Hatchet Boys..
Bill and the Mining Shark...
Bill and the Cattle Barons...

RED EICetae oie! iets yh woh Hi

MH OTOL OT CUO OT OT OT OC

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C1 Or Ot

BTS MORE VOGGS ee Hujiie <0 diss 5

Bill,

the Peacemaker....... 5

Bill’s Promise to Pay..... pie Ane

Bill’s Diamond Hitch.......

Bill and the Wheel of Fate.. |
Bill and the Pool of Mystery &
Bill and the Deserter....... 5

Bill’s Island in the Air......
Billy Down Marshal, cies ci."

BAU Se Cll ti CUM 23920 68s - 2 10% i

Bill’s Test

Bill and the Ponea Raiders. .
Bill’s Boldest Stroke

Bill’s Enigma

Bill’s Blockade

Bill and the Gilded Clique..
Bill and Perdita Reyes......

Bill and the Boomers.......

Bill Cals sacha ltews ceed «x's

Bill and the Ke-week Totem. 5
4

BES On Raisers ee ox:

Bill at Cafion Diablo....... f

y back numbers of our weeklies and cannot procure them from your newsdealer, they can be obtained direct
Postage-stamps taken the same as money.

STREET & SMITH, PUBLISHERS, 79-89 SEVENTH AVENUE, NEW YORK CITY