By THe Aurwe
“BUFFALO

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Buffalo Bill steadied the boat
with the oars, and Pawnee Bill
let the noose fly toward the
man in the water, who was
now swimming feebly.

 
 

 
 

 

 

 

tssued Weekly.

 

Ly subscription $2.50 per year. Entered as Second-class Matter at the N. YV. Post Office, by STREET & SurrH, 19-89 Seventh Ave., NV. Y.

Copyright, 1911, dy STREET & SMITH.

 

No. 505.

Price Five Cents,

 

uffalo Bill On the Upper Missouri;

&.

NEW YORK, January 14, 191.

OR,

PAWNEEF BILL’S PICK-UP.

 

By the author of “BUFFALO BILL.”

 

CMAr TER i:
LONE TREEOHILE.

“That's the place, Broken Arrow.’

The speaker, one of two men riding toward an uplift
of low, rocky hills, pulled in his horse and pointed.

The other looked at the hill indicated by the leveled
finger and nodded.

“All same, Masta Shella,’ answered Broken Arrow.

~. ‘Him Lone Tree Hill; eh?”

“The same, Broken Arrow. The white medicine man
must think I am an Indian, you savvy?”

“Ya-as.”

Masta Shella was a white man, although he was dressed
in Indian buckskins’and blanket, and his face was painted
and there were feathers in his hair. His pony was Indian,
also, and bore an elkhorn saddle, with a panther-skin
roll at the back. But his hair was yellow and his eyes
were blue.

What his, real name was, the cenegade Sioux, with - -

whom he fraternized, did not know. They called him
“Masta Shella,’ which is merely another name for “white
man.”

As Masta Shella spoke, he drew up his blanket to cover
his telltale yellow hair, and, with one hand, held its folds
tightly beneath the chin. After that he and Broken Ar-
“row—who was a Sioux medicine man—rode on toward
the hill where grew the lone pine.

The slope of the hill was covered with boulders. Mid-

    

way of its height was a rough little plateau, and at the
edge of the plateau grew the solitary tree.
When Masta Shella and Broken Arrow were very

close to the foot of the hill a form appeared, as if by

magic, at the base of the tree and looked down at
them.

The form was broken and disfigured, the legs long and
the hands swinging almost to the knees.

“There he is, Masta Shella,’ breathed Broken Arrow,

his voice’ thrilling with awe ; “there is the Crooked One,

the white ediee mian.

Masta Shella laughed softly.

“Don't be scared, Broken Arrow,” he answered.
Crooked Ben is only human, like ourselves.”

The other muttered under his breath.

Meanwhile, Crooked Ben had flung up one of hisglong

Lis

arms and made a gesture that called for a halt on the part

of the approaching strangers.

Masta Shella and Broken Arrow made the peace sign

with their hands, and then rode in with their ponies.
‘There was more sign language from Crooked Ben, and,
by deft motions of hands and arms, he signified that the
strangers were to leave their weapons with their ponies
and ascend on foot to the tree.

This they did, and then clambered up the steep, rocky
slope, Masta Shella very carefully keeping himself con-
cealed in his blanket.

“You are Sioux?” asked Crooked Ben, stepping back

 
2, THE BUFFALO

a little as the two strangers came over the edge.of the
plateau. |

“At,” answered Broken Arrow, his voice a terrified sigh
like wind through the pine in the month of the cold moon.
_ “What do you want with Crooked Ben?” went on the
hunchback.

“Crooked Len is big medicine,’’ continued Broken Ar-
tow. “Il also am big medicine among my people, but not
such big medicine as Crooked Ben.” _

“That is the talk of squaws and children,” answered
the hunchback. ‘I am no medicine man.” |

“The red men think so,”

“The red men think mary things. 1 :

Crooked Ben was suddenly and violently interrupted.
Masta Shella, close beside him, had suddenly flung aside
his blanket and leaped upon the twisted form like a
panther. A stifled cry escaped the hunchback’s lips. He
struggled, but his feeble strength was not equal to that
of his antagonist, and he was crushed down upon the
rocks.

Broken Arrow, bringing forth some stout buckskin
thongs, bound Crooked Ben’s hands and feet.

“What is this?” gasped Crooked Ben, flashing indig-
nant eyes at Masta Shella. “You are white, and so am I.
Why are you treating me in this way?”

Masta Shella stood over his captive calmly.

“Whether you want it to appear so or not, Crooked
Ben,” said he, “the Crows and Cheyennes in.this section
believe you to be a medicine man. You’re deformed, and
you're a hermit and live in a den in this hillside. Re-
cently you helped Buffalo Bill and his pards in capturing
Blix, a deserter from the army, who was leading a war
party of Sioux against the whites. Blix killed himself
at Fort Custer soon after his capture.’’*

“Blix was a scoundrel,’ flared Crooked Ben. ‘He de-
served hanging rather than death by his own hand,’

Wrath rose in Masta Shella’s face. Before speaking
further with Crooked Ben, he turned to Broken Arrow.

“Hide the horses,” said he in the Sioux tongue.

Broken Arrow turned and began slipping down the
hillside.

“Blix was my pard,’ Masta Shella went on, again
speaking to the hunchback. -“He is gone, but I have
taken his place. I have tried to rouse the Sioux warriors,
who followed Blix, to seek revenge against Buffalo Bill
and his pards and against the white soldiers at Custer,
but their hearts are weak and they are afraid.”

“They have cause to be afraid,’ answered Crooked Ben.

“The Sioux, hearing stories of you from the Crows
and the Cheyennes, believe that you are ‘big medicine.’ I
suggested to them that they come to you and ask your
advice about making further war against the long-haired
scout and his pards and the white soldiers.”

“You made a misplay when you told them to do that,”
said Crooked Ben. ‘I shall counsel peace, for I am a
man of peace. I shall tell the Sioux to go back to their
own country and leave Buffalo Bill and his friends and
the white soldiers and settlers alone. You have given
me the chance to stop war and bloodshed, and I shall
do it.” ae

A jeering laugh came from Masta Shella.

“You don’t know me very well,” said he, “if you think

ein,

*See No. 504, BurraLto Britt WEEKLY: “Buffalo Bill’s Tramp
Pard; or, Pawnee Bill and the Sachem of Saginaw.”

 

 

BILL STORIES.

I told the Sioux to come here for advice without laying
plans to make that advice just what I want them to have.”

“If you think you can browbeat me into telling the
Sioux to make war,’ cried Crooked Ben, in his high,
piercing voice, “you are mistaken. You will kill me
before I do that.”

“No, I am not going to kill you, Crooked Ben, but the
Sioux, when they come, will be told to follow Masta
Shella and do as he commands. They will think that you
are advising them. That will be enough.”

Crooked Ben stared into the leering face of the white
renegade, then gnashed his teeth impotently and strug-
gled to free himself. |

“That is why you made this attack on me!” he panted.
“You are trying to use me to set the renegade Sioux upon
my own people. -You-——’

At that moment Broken Arrow returned from below.
“The ponies are hidden,’’ he reported.
“Good!” exclaimed. Masta Shella.

*“And the Sioux are coming, brother,’

Arrow.

He pointed across the plain below, in the direction oi
a gap in a range of low hills. |

Shading his eyes with his hand, the white renegade
followed the pointing finger of his companion with his
eyes. Through the gap dark figures could be seen gliding
through from the other side. In the distance they looked
like black dots, but a trained observer would have recog-
nized them at once as a tide of red horsemen.

Masta Shella turned away with an ill-omened chuckle.

“Help me carry him into his hole in the rocks, Broken
Arrow,’ said he. “We did not get here any too soon.”

The struggling hunchback was picked up and borne
hastily across the little pleateau on the hillside. There
was a black hole among thé stones. Masta Shella knelt
and crawled through, dragging the captive after him.

The den was of tolerable. size, once the entrance was
passed—so high that a tall man could stand up in it, and
so roomy that he could move around without discomfort.

“You shall pay for this!’’ cried the hunchback. —

“Who will make me pay?” iaughed Masta Shella. “Not
you, certainly.”

“Buffalo Bill-will make you pay.”

“Buffalo Bill will not have a chance to make any one
settle accounts. He and his pards are with a wagon train
from Custer, making for the Upper Missouri. The Sioux
will be advised to follow Masta Shella against that train.
From the wagons we will get arms and. ammunnition and
much food. We will take the wagons, and, when they
have been taken, Buffalo Bill and his pards will have had
the same fate dealt out to them that was handed to
Custer and his men.”

Masta Shella knelt as he finished. In his hands was
a red cotton handkerchief. He twisted it into a rope.

While Crooked Ben started to talk, Masta Shella pushed
the gag between, his lips and tied the handkerchief ends
tightly at the back of his neck... anes

: “They are close, brother,” whispered Broken Arrow ;
our red brothers are close.”

“Haul the prisoner to the side of the cave, Broken
Arrow,’ answered Masta Shella. “The gag is good, but
keep a hand over his lips or about his throat so he cannot
make a sound. When our Sioux brothers get here we will
be ready for them.”

Broken Arrow dragged the captive close to the wall
and knelt down beside him.

2

went on Broken

 

 

 
 

THE BUFFALO

Masta Shella looked through the entrance to the den.
The painted Sioux,.on foot, were already coming over

the edge of the plateau, by the lone pine. ?

Squatting in the gloom at one side of the entrance,
Masta Shella lifted his voice. He made his voice shrill
and cracked, as near to Crooked Ben’s as he could.

“What is the will of my Sioux friends with the white
medicine man? Let them come within a horse’s leap of
my cave, so we may talk.”

There was a stirring of moccasined feet among the
rocks.

CHAPTER II.
TOR Ray Ae S ite OPE hel.

Masta Shella did not venture to peer through the en-
trance again, for it.was his part not to be seen, by the
red men, who would surely have recognizedhim. That
the Sioux would not attempt to come into the cave he
knew, for they had supernatural ideas of Crooked Ben’s
power arid consequence.

Masta Sheila had used the Sioux tongue in ve to
the warriors, They answered in kind.-

“We are here to powwow with the Crooked One!” came
from without. “We want him to tell us what the red
men from the Pah-sap-pah should do.”

“Let Yellow Horse speak,’ answered Masta Shella.

The redskins were stricken dumb, for a moment, with
this knowledge which the supposed Crooked One had dis-
played. How did the white medicine man, without look-
ing from his den, know that Yellow Horse led the braves
Ww ho had come for council?

“T have read it in the stars by night and in the clouds
by day?’ went on the false prophet, “that the Sioux
brothers were to come to me for advice. The white chief,
Masta Shella, friend of the other white chief who has
been taken by the pony soldiers, sent them. What is it
my red brothers want to know?”

Very cleverly the false prophet was playing upon the
fears of his Siotfx listeners. The red men believed that
Crooked Ben had supernatural. powers. Masta Shella
was convincing them of it,

“The Crooked One knows everything,” cried the voice
of Yellow Horse. ‘If he knows so much, then he knows
why we have:come to Lone Tree Hill. What shall them
red brothers do?”

“The Sioux have lost their white leader,”
the false prophet.
turn to the Pah-sap-pah without seeking revenge? When
the war trail grows hard for the ponies’ feet, is the Sioux
blood like water that the Sioux do not press on and win
scalps, and food, and guns from the wagon train?”

‘But the white soldiers are many,” answered Yellow
Horse, “and the Sioux are not many.”

“There are more Sioux then there are men in the
wagon train—more than twice as many.”

“Even so, Crooked One; but after we secure the scalps,
and the food, and the guns, what then? The white sol-
diers will hunt us down like foxes in their holes, and
our squaws’ shall never again cut tepee poles on the banks

answered

-of- Iron Creek.”

“I have read it in the stars by night and in the clouds
by day that the Sioux will have nothing to fear. . Let
them fight bravely, and all the white walk-a-heaps and

ss sd Aa Ai Anco fin
sar Ss -Se RNR OV SC Sean Ati ino DAP tah meee

Ce A sr fare te as Se an tae coi et 1 adi

Sie See ts

“Are they squaws that they will re- -

BILL STORIES. g

pony soldiers who come against them will fall in heaps.
One bullet fred by the Sioux will mow a path as big as
the shots from a buffalo gun (cannon), and at the hurl-
ing of every lance a dozen of the white enemy shall
fall. I have seen it in the stars and in the clouds.”

Guttural cries of,joy came from the redskins outside
the cave.

“Masta Shella is your war chief,’ went on the false
prophet. “Follow where he leads, do as he tells you,
and the sacred hills of the Sioux will again come back
to the red brothers.”

The ‘“‘sacred hills” of the Sioux were the Pah-sap-pah,
or Black Hills. Every ravine and a6 peak was sup-
posed, by the cr edulous Sioux, to be haunted by some
spirit. To regain the Black Hills from the white gold
hunters was the dream of the Sioux Nation.

“Be it so,’ answered Yellow Horse.

“Go back to your place,” continued the false prophet,
“and wait for Masta Shella and Broken Arrow to join
you. Broken Arrow’s medicine is, good.- He is away
with Masta Shella learning from the gods how to mix
good medicine for his red brothers and bad medicine
for the yellow eyes. Wait for them: When they come,
follow where they lead. J. have spoken:’

With loud, exultant shouts the deluded warriors
whirled away from the cavern entrance. The whisper-of
their moccasins could be heard on the rocks long atter
their cries had ceased.

Masta Shella stole a look through the entrance to the
den and saw the last of the warriors disappearing” over
the edge of the plateau.

A grunt of satisfaction came from Broken Arrow.

“Tt is good!” said the Sioux medicine man. . “Masta
Shella is wise as the fox, and he hides his: ways like a
serpent.” ‘

‘We have turned the trick, Broken Arrow,” guffawed
Masta Shella. ey her€ with Crooked Ben "te I go
out and see our red brothers depart.”

Masta Shella crawled through the entrance and cau-
tiously made his way among the stones until close to the
lone tree.

From there he could see at least twenty warriors
mounting their ponies at the foot of the slope. Digging
in with their moccasined heels, they raced toward the
gap in the farther range of uplifts, flourishing their lances
and firearms.

“A fine stroke!” he exclaimed, a demoniacal look cross-
ing his face, “The red fools have been won over. Now
it remains for me to lead them against the wagon train
and to make this long-haired scout and his pards pay
for what they did to Pard Blix. The red trail lies before
me, and I am ready to follow it to the end.”

When the tide of horsemen had vanished through the
gap, Masta Shella, the schemer, lifted himself from the
rocks and returned to the den.

“Have our red brothers left?” asked Broken Arrow.

“They are gone,” answered Masta Shella.

“What are\ we to do with the Crooked One?’

“We will leave him in his den.”

“Bound and gagged ?”

“Ai, “Later we can come and release him
It is not good to take the

TSE

 

“That is well, Masta Shella.
life of a prophet.”
, “We will come and release him;”
“after the wagons are ours.
carry the news to the train.”

> went on Masta Shella,
We cannot let him free to

 

 

 
 

 

4 THE BUFFALO

Without speaking further to the hunchback prisoner,
the white renegade and the red left the den. At the en-
trance they paused to roll a boulder into the opening, then
went to get their hidden horses and to ride away.

‘Crooked Ben, the friend of Buffalo Bill and of the
white soldiers, had listened in horror to the advice given
the Sioux warriors.

The cunning scheme of the white renegade had been
carried to a successful conclusion. The Sioux, discour-
_aged by the capture and death of Blix, had intended to
leave the Crow country and rettirn to the Black Hills.
Masta Shella had tried in vain to advise them against such
a course. They would not listen to him or to Broken
Arrow. Then Masta Shella had told the Sioux to con-
sult with Crooked Ben. They had come, but Masta Shella
and Broken Arrow were at Lone Tree Hill before them.

Ah, it was a clever trick, a dastardly trick!

Suppose the scout and his pards and the white soldiers

should hear that etl ene Ben had sent the Sioux against

them?

The very thought wreeien a groan from the lips of
the hunchback. He must free himself, if he could; in
some way he must contrive to reach the white soldiers
and tell them what was happening.

Crooked Ben had a horse hidden away near his den.
-To-free himself and to secure the horse and ride north-
ward was the one purpose he had in mind.

As he fought with his bonds, he recalled vividly eee
time when he had been set upon by Sioux Indians, under
the leadership of the renegade Blix, and left a prisoner in
his cave, just as he was at that moment. It was Buffalo
Bill who had saved him from a lingering death at that
time; now, unless Crooked Ben could save himself, Buf-
falo Bill’s life might pay the penalty.

He had not been so securely bound by Masta Shella
as he had been by Blix. Nevertheless, the tough rawhide
cut into his wrists as he struggled to free his hand, and
he found it impossible to wrench himself free.

For at least two hours—two hours that seemed like
an eternity—he fought those hard, clinging cords. In
the blank darkness of the den his struggles carried him
writhing around the stone floor.

His cupboards were niches in the rocks. In one of
those niches there was a knife. Had it been possible to
get upon his feet, he might have secured the knife, have
fixed it in some way, with its edge uppermost, and then
have sawed his bonds asunder.

He wasted an hour more in attempting this, then
dropped breathlessly from his knees at full length. He
fell beside a tin bucket, which he had just filled with
water from the spring, when he saw Masta Shella and
Broken Arrow coming through the gap in the farther
range of hills.

Then a thought flashed through his brain that gave him
hope. Struggling to a sitting posture back to the bucket,
he thrust both hands into the water.

Buckskin when wet will stretch.

He kept his bound wrists in the water until he felt the
tough strands yielding under the pull of his hands. Then,
moving away from the bucket, he worked until he had
slipped his hands through the expanding coils.

To snatch the handkerchief gag from his mouth and
then to free his feet took only a few minutes.

Removing the stone from the entrance to the den
tried his strength; but he had a worthy object to attain,
and the idea gave him added power.

Bink: STORIES.

At last the boulder rolled away, and he fell, spent and
gasping, into the daylight. For another hour he lay in the
entrance recovering his strength.

After that he collected a bag of provisions, left his
cavern home with his saddle and bridle, climbed to the
other side of the hill and secured his horse.

In less than half an hour he was mounted and dashing
northward.

“We shall see, Masta Shella!’ he muttered; “we shall

see!”

CHAPTER Ely

WITH THE WAGON TRAIN.
The powers that be had ordained that winter canton-

ments should be built at the mouth of the Musselshell.

A sporadic outbreak on the part of the Sioux seemed to.

have been quelled by the capture of the white renegade
whose influence had been exerted among the Sioux for
war against his own kind. But the “signs,” as Buffalo
Bill read them, promised further trouble, and at Fort
Custer, on the south, and Fort Benton, on the north,
there were wise commanders who agreed with the king
of scouts.

To fence in the hostiles and keep them from reaching
Canada was a part of the program, and cantonments were
going up along the Upper Missouri.

Manifestly the easiest way to send supplies from Ben-
ton to these cantonments was by steamboat. But there
was no steamboat at hand for the work, and resort was
had to wagon trains.

Captains Hollis and Holcomb were detached from
Custer and sent to Benton; and out of Benton moved the
wagon trains with infantry escort, and guarded by scouts
ahead and on the flanks.

One of those trains would have made rich pickings for
a band of hostiles; and, while the soldiers felt sure that
the trains would not be disturbed, they guessed they
would, and took measures accordingly.

Had a band of Sioux jumped one of the trains and
made a success of it, the news would have traveled like
wildfire through the Indian country, and bucks, otherwise
peaceably disposed, would have joined the war parties
in order to secure their share of the train’s loot.

It was good business, therefore, to make it impossible
for any outfit of Sioux to get hold of a wagon train. It
was in the nature of an ounce of prevention that was
worth several tons of cure.

With one of these trains, consisting of ‘evclne wagons,
four mules to the wagon, garded by | an escort of twenty
a under Captain Holcomb, went the scout and his

ards.

Buffalo Bill, Wild Bill, young Pawnee Bill, old Nomad,

and Little Cayuse rode far out on the flanks and in front,

.their trained eyes on the alert for signs of hostiles.

The military operations had resulted in a shortage of
scouts for the caravans to the cantonments, and there
were no red scouts with Holcomb’s outfit.

Early in the afternoon the train would go into camp,
thus giving the stock a chance to graze before night
fell; and also giving the troopers a chance to guard the
mules against any attempt at a stampede by the hostiles.

About three o’clock in the afternoon Buffalo Bill rode

—

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

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Baptastreta ree Cetin palate rer Cate ne

THE BUFFALO

into the camp, threw the reins over Bear Paw’s head, and
dismounted.

Holcomb came up to him.

“We haven’t had any excitement at all, Cody,” said
Holcomb, “and I guess we’re not going to have any.
The Sioux have had enough, eh?” .

“T hope you're right, captain,” the scout answered,
“but I just rode in to report that I found signs of a oe
off to the south.”

“Sioux ??

“There are no friendly reds in this vicinity. It was a
good-sized camp, and when I raked over the ashes 1
found live coals. Also this,’ and he flung a badly worn
moccasin to Holcomb.

Holcomb looked at the scarred moccasin, and ae it
from him with a muttered “Pah!”

“That's Sioux footgear, Holcomb,” declared the scout.

“No doubt of it; but the Sioux that wore it got himself
out of the way before this train came along. He may
have been one of those who escaped from us at the time
you captured Blix.”

“Possibly.”

“That means that the outfit he’s with is doing every-
thing: possible to keep clear of the whites.”

“Not necessarily, Holcomb,”

The captain gave the scout a sharp look.

“Then you don’t think, Cody,” said he, “that that outfit
of hostiles has had a good and sufficient lesson ?”

“As I have said all along, Holcomb,” the scout an-
swered, “the reds who trailed after Blix are now on the
run, but that doesn’t mean that there’s no fight left in
them, or that they won’t fight if they see a chance to do
it with anything that looks like success. If I were you,
I’d have a double guard on the harness stock, and I'd
bunch up the wagons pretty well.”

The scout looked around him at the disposition of the
men and the wagons. The train was in the open with
good clear ground on all sides of it. The teamsters, as-
sisted by. the soldiers, were taking the mules to the river
in bunches of four for water. There was a good deal,
of joking among the men as they rattled away.

“Tl put a strong guard over the stock, Cody,” said
Holcomb, ‘“‘and I’ll see that the wagons are bunched up.
This is good ground for a fight, if we’re going to have
one. We'll have the reds under our guns on all sides,
in case of an attack.”

The scout nodded, pulled the reins back over Beat
Paw’s head, and leaped into his saddle.

“Some of my pards,” he went on, “may have secured
more information about the reds than I have, but [

“thought it best to ride in and give you a tip. If the other

scouts have stumbled. onto anything of importance they'll
let you know about it before long.”

The scout started off to southward at an easy lope,
while the captain began making a fresh disposition of his
force. in accordance with Buffalo Bill’s warning.

The scout had not got out of sight of the wagons be-
fore he saw Pawnee Bill climbing toward him through
the sagebrush, with his horse, Chick-Chick, on the keen
jump. The bowie man was holding a form on the sad-
dle in front of him.

Drawing rein, the scout waited.
up alongside of him.

“Great Scott!’ exclaimed Buffalo Bill, recognizing the
limp form in his pard’s arms, ‘Where did you pick up
Crooked Ben, Pawnee?”

Pawnee Bill pulled

    

_with a bucket of water.

BILL STORIES. es

There was a red smear on the huuchback’s forehead,
his face was pallid and his eyes were’ closed.

“A couple of miles to the south, necarnis,” answered
the prince of the bowie. “I was moving down a draw
when I heard a shot. I scouted up the side of the draw
and looked over. A horse was kicking his last on the
ground, and Crooked Ben here was standing beside the
brute. Then came a Sioux yell and another shot. Ben
went down beside the horse. The two shots had come
from cover—a fringe of brush in a gash between two
hills. I turned old Scolding Sarah loose at the chaparral
and rode out and picked up Crooked Ben. Half a dozen
bullets kicked up the dust around me, but none of them
came close enough to do any damage. On-she-ma-da!
Who’d ever have dreamed of seeing Ben on the Upper
Missouri?”

“He’s here for some weighty reason,’ returned. the
scout. ~“Let’s get him to camp as soon as possible. Do
you think he’s done for?’

“He hasn’t made a move since I picked him up; and,
of course, I haven’t had time to examine him and find
out how badly he’s hurt. That patch of red on his fore-
head looks bad for him, though.”

The scout wheeled Bear Paw to the rightabout, and
the pards-rode into the camp at a gallop. They were
surrounded by soldiers and teamsters as they came to
a halt.

“Scout Cody an’ Scout Lillie bringin’ in a gone duck,”
said one veteran of the ranks. “I reckon we're raisin’
the Sioux smoke. Cutthroats, eh?”

“Or Cut-arms,” said another. “Cheyennes may be in
on this as well as them Sioux sons o’ guns.’

Two of the men took Crooked Ben from Pawnee Bill’s
arms and laid him down in the shade of a wagon. An-
other had spread a blanket for him, and still another had
pushed a saddle under his head.

“Looks like he’d got his gruel,” commented a soldier.

Some one bounded away to the river and returned
With a handkerchief the scout
cleansed the wound, then prodded it a little with his

+)

é fingers.

“Queer-lookin’ sort of er human ape,” remarked a
sergeant, staring at the broken form and the thin, hatchet-
like face.

“He’s a man from boot soles to headpiece,” answered
Pawnee Bill, “Buffalo Bill and I know him, and so does
Holcomb. Where’s the captain?”

“Here,” said Holcomb, pushing his way through the
crowd. “Crooked Ben, or I’m a sinner!” he added as he
came to the side of the wounded man.

The prince of the bowie pulled himself up and lifted
his gauntleted hand to his hat.

“Injuns are two miles south, captain,” he reported.
“They dropped Crooked Ben’s horse and then Crooked
Ben himself/ They were in a patch of scrub and didn’t
show themselves. I met Pard Bill as I was riding in,’

“Deploy that escort out, Hobson,’ said Holcomb, turn-
ing to a lieutenant. “I don’t look for an attack, but the
reds'll not catch us napping if they come.”

- “Very well, sir,” said Hobson, and hurried away, shout-
ing to the escort as he went.

The crowd around Crooked Ben and the two pards
melted away, leaving only the captain with the wounded
man, the scout, and the prince of the bowie.

“Done for?” queried Holcomb tersely.

 

 

 

 
 

Se. : THE BUFFALO

“There's no fracture as I can find, captain,” answered
the scout. “His heart’s going and his pulse is fairly
strong.”

“Too bad we haven’t a doctor with us, or at least a
chest of first-aid stuff. I guess we can dig up something
in the way of a bandage, though.” :

One of the teamsters came with a strip of white cloth.

“I ripped this off’n a sack,” said he, “but I reckon it’s
good enough tér tie around his head.”

_ Buffalo Bill bound the strip of cloth over Crooked
Ben's forehead, then got up and looked down at him.

“He's had a hard ride,’ observed Buffalo Bill, “if
his appearance is any indication. He’s ‘not strong, any-
how—that twist in his spine accounts for that. But he’s
game as a hornet. Something of importance brought
’ him-up this way.”

“No doubt,’ nodded Holcomb. ‘“We’ll have to wait
until he comes to, I suppose, in order to find out about it.”

A yell came from the south. Casting his eyes in that
direction, the scout saw Nomad and Wild Bill flying fast
and straight for the camp. i

“Here comes more news,” said he.

CHAPTER IV.
WAITING FOR TROUBLE.

“By gorry, cap,” said Wild Bill grimly, slipping out of
his dusty saddle, “I see you’re ready for trouble: Nick
and I reckoned we were bringing you hot news.”

“What's the news, Hickok?” inquired Holcomb
briskly.

“Seen ten Sioux an’ er white ombray with yaller ha’r,
said Nomad. “They was slashin’ south by east an’ hump-
in’ theirselves. I reckon this hyar train is watched by
hosstyles, all right.”

“It will take more than ten of them to jump us,” re-
turned Holcomb.

“The way I figure it, cap,” spoke up the Laramie man,
“is like this: the ten and the white tinhorn we saw were
only a scouting party. There’s a bigger outfit somewhere
to the south, and we'll probably hear from them to-night,
or maybe to-morrow.” ‘

“I don’t think the whole force is big enough to scare
us. All we want is time to bunch up close to water if
we're on the march.” :

“We'll see that you get time for that, Holcomb,” said
Buffalo Bill. “Where's Cayuse?”

None of the othempards had seen Cayuse.

“He's keepin’ er eye out fer trouble signs, wharever
he is,’ averred the old trapper; ‘an’ ef he finds anythin’
wuth reportin’ he'll come in with et. Et’s er waste o’
time frettin’ grbout Cayuse, Who’s this hyar?” And
then, for the first time, Nomad’s eyes dropped to the still
form of the hunchback. ‘Crooked Ben, er I’m er. Piegan!
An’ laid out! Waugh! How’d thet come, Buffler ?”

Buffalo Bill explained the situation so far as Crooked
Ben was concerned.

“Scatter back into the country, pards,” finished the
scout. “There’s red trouble of some sort ahead of us,
and we want to be ready for it when it comes. I'll ride
after you as soon as Ben comes around and tells us what
brought him north.”

Pawnee Bill, Wild Bill, and old Nomad climbed into

9)

 

BILL STORIES.

their saddles and galloped away once more. The scout
lowered himself to the ground, filled and lighted his pipe,
and leaned back against one of the wagon wheels.

‘What do you think about the hostiles now, Holcomb?”
he inquired, looking at the captain with a quiet smile,

“They may be ready to make trouble,’ answered the
captain, “but their force is not strong enough.”

“We don’t know anything about their full force as yet.
Those eleven, seen by Wild Ball and Nomad, are only a
part of the outfit.”

“Who's that white man with the yellow hair?
the reds got another white leader?”

“That's the way it stacks up. This country is full of
no-good whites, who’d welcome the chance to lead a
strong party against a well-stocked train like this.”

“Not every no-good white, Cody, can gain the confi-
dence of the reds. The Sioux would have to have a lot
of faith in a white leader before they'd follow him.”

“Blix won their confidence.”

“Blix was a friend of Rain-in-the-face. He was at
Fort Lincoln while Rain-in-the-face was confined there,
long before the Little Big Horn massacre.”

Holcomb got up from the place where he, had seated
himself, and paced a beat back and forth along the side
of the wagon. It was evident that something had oc-
curred to him that was of importance.

“Do you'remember, Cody,” he asked, coming to a sud-
den stop and facing the scout, “about the killing of Doctor
Honzinger and Mr. Baliran?”

- The scout nodded.

“That was what made a hostile out of Ran-in-the-face,”
said the scout. “Honzinger and Baliran were members of
Custer’s expedition to the Yellowstone. They were
missed from the expedition, hunted for and found full
of arrows—but neither man had been Scalped.(

“The doctor was bald and Baliran wore his hair clipped
short; that was the reason they did not lose their scalps.”

“That was the way of it,” assented the scout. “TI knew
Charley Reynolds, Custer’s scout, and the man who dis-
covered that the young Uncpapa, Rain-in-the-face, had
killed Honzinger and Baliran.”

“Reynolds told Custer,” went on Holcomb, ‘fand Custer
detailed a hundred men, under Captain Yates, to arrest
Rain-in-the-face. Yates has told me personally how he
made his capture. It was as gallant a thing as this West-
ern country ever witnessed. Yates cut his force of a
hundred down to sixty, sending forty of his command
down the river to make inquiries about three Osages
wanted for murder. With his sixty men Yates had to
face a force of Sioux numbering more than six hundred,
and he had_to take away from them one of the most
popular warriors of the Sioux Nation. Some people
found fault with Yates for dividing his force.”

“Yates did the right thing,” said the scout.” “If he suc-
ceeded in his desperate work, it had to be by taking the
Sioux by surprise. When he divided his force, he lulled
the suspicions of the Sioux—and effected his purpose.
Yates got his man, dtew a revolver and threatened-to kill
him on the spot in case any of the Sioux showed so much
as a gun muzzle. But what of all this, captain?”

“T’m coming to the point,” answered Holcomb. “Rain-
in-the-face was taken to Fort Lincoln. I was there at
the time, and I remember all about it. As I said, too,
Blix was there, and Blix, in some way, managed to curry
favor with the Uncpapa brave. Rain-in-the-face escaped
from Lincoln,”

Have

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scout
Pipe,

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Jang:

 
 
  

 

 

  

THE BUFFALO

“That is all a matter of history now.’

“Exactly, Cody; a matter of history. Two white men,
grain thieves, were brought to the post and lodged in the
guardhouse. They sawed their way out, and Rain-in-the-
face availed himself of the opening the white men had
made. I'll never forget those two grain thieves. But for
them there would never have been any massacre on the
Little Big Horn, and brave Custer would be with us to-
day, saved to his country.”

The scout waited patiently in order to discover just
what was to be the upshot of all the captain’s talk.

“Cody,” said he, “one of those grain thieves was a man
with yellow hair.”

“And you think,’ returned the scout, “that this man
who was seen with the ten hostiles by Nomad and Wild
Bill is the same man?”

“It is possible.”

“Possible, but not probable.”

“This yellow-haired grain thief was called Dan Lene-
fee. The Sioux Nation knows how it chanced that
Lenefee and the other white prisoner in the guardhouse
made possible the escape of Rain-in-the-face. Lenefee,
if he is still alive, might easily trade upon his popularity
with the Sioux and get them to follow him.’

“He might, of course.”

“And this Lenefee was a friend of the soldier, Blix.
Blix got his stand-in with the Sioux because of his friend-
ship for the Uncpapa prisoner at Lincoln, and Lenefee
may be getting a stand-in in a similar way.”

“That is something we don’t know. Would you recog-
nize this Lenefee, Holcomb, if you were to see him
cea ne

“T think so.’

“Then I hope you'll see him—and over the sights of
your gun.”

The scout walked to Crooked Ben’s side and knelt
down.

“His heart’s as strong as ever,’ he remarked, in a_puz-
zled tone, “but he’s a long time coming ’round.”’ ;

“He is,’ agreed Holcomb, “He may never come ’round,
Cody.”

“T think he will,” said the scout, “but Pll not wait any
longer. If he comes to himself while I’m out scouting,
you'll get his story and I can hear it later.”

Without waiting longer, Buffalo Bill got into his saddle
and rode away from the camp.

The dependence of Holcomb, that night, was placed on
the scout and his pards. The captain knew that he would
be apprised in ample time of any threatening attack, and
rested easily.

The mules had been brought in from their feeding
grounds and bunched together within the hollow square
of the wagons. Fires were lighted and supper prepared,
and then, sleeping on their guns and with a double line
of outposts to do guard duty, the tired soldiers and mule

_skinners stretched themselves out to sleep.

It was a wait for trouble, but no trouble materialized.
Along toward morning the scouts came in, Cayuse with
them. They had breakfast and a brief rest. |

“What about Crooked Ben?” were the scout’s first
words.

Holcomb theck his head.

“He hasn’t batted an eye, Cody,” said he.

“Any change in his condition ?”

“Not that I can see. His heart’s as strong as ever, and,
from his easy breathing, you'd think he was asleep.”

BILL STORIES.

 

“Mighty queer !’’

“There's a doctor at the cantonment on the Mussel-
shell, and maybe we'll have to wait until we get there
before we learn anything from Crooked Ben.”

‘The shot must er creased him,” spoke up old Nomad.

“He’s been unconscious for a long time, Nick, if it was
only a bullet crease.”

“That bullet rapped him a hard one,” said Pawnee Bill.
“It must have jarred him a considerable, necarnis. In
fact, being rather weak and sickly, Ben was jarred a
whole lot worse than you or I would have been if we had
received a slug in the same way.”

When the start was made that morning, Crooked Ben
was made as comfortable as possible in one of the wagons.
The long train, with its escort flanking it along the sides,
strung itself out, and creaked and rattled over the sandy
ground.

Buffalo Bill and his pards, anticipating trouble, were
out of sight in the distance, watchful as hawks.

It was almost noon before the hostile reds were dis-
covered. Cayuse located them, and he came back from
the sky line like the wind, picking up Buffalo Bill: and
Nomad as he raced.

Together the three of them sailed toward the wagons.

t

CHAPTER VY.
THE ATTACK..-

“When you see Cody coming in like that, Hobson,’
exclaimed Captain Holcomb, “you can make up. your
mind that there’s hot work ahead.”

“We're going to catch it good and plenty,” muttered
Hobson.

“Seen ’em, Cody ?” demanded Holcomb.

“Cayuse was the one who saw them, captain,” the scout
answered.

“How many?’

“He says there’s a hundred of them.”

“Tudas’ priest!” muttered Hobson. |

Holcomb whistled.

At that moment the wagons were cena out rather
more than usual, having just passed rather a bad piece of
country. «oven

The order to close up in column of fours flew the length
of the train; at the same time the escort was deployed out.

Whips. snapped like the explosion of revolvers, and
teamsters howled fiercely at the mules as only an army
teamster knows how to howl. In spite of the seeming
confusion, the wagons came up four abreast, making three
files of the twelve creaking vans. All around the train the
escort ran out, shoving shells into their breechblocks and
making ready for the scrimmage.

Holding their distance around the moving wagons, the

infantry guard advanced, facing outward.
. “There seems to be a delay for some reason,” remarked
Holcomb grimly; “and maybe we shall have time to get
into a good position. Where would you advise rounding
up, Cody?”

The ua lifted himself in his stirrups and looked
ahead. A hundred yards off was-a stretch of plain
sloping slightly toward the river. A scanty fringe of tim-
ber marked the river’s bank.

“Get into that cleared stretch, Holcomb,” said Buffalo

si

   

IED NSO SN ta TN PY 2S AeA OS AY RIN RG a Ns Sheba geste cps shat arn
ei ea

  

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

8 co THE BUFFALO

~‘

Bill, with a wave of the hand, “and turn in toward the
river. We want to be where the water’s handy.”

Just as the wagons were turning, to get closer to the
river bank, Wild Bill. and Pawnee Bill shot into the

cleared stretch from the south, their horses leaping wildly

under the touch of the spurs.

“Hyar comes Wild Bill an’ Pawnee!” whooped old
Nomad, “an’ they’re shore goin’ over ther ground fer a
reecord. Waugh, see them animiles jump! Thet’s ther
reglar kangaroo wabble. ’Pears like ther Laramie man
had got winged.” __

Wild Bill’s left arm was hanging down limply in front
of him. Pawnee Bill could be seen to turn in his saddle,
rifle at his shoulder. Scolding Sarah dropped one of her
spiteful remarks, and, at the same time, must have
dropped a redskin, although it was impossible to see what
damage was done from the wagon train.

“Look out, pards!” roared Wild Bill, “the whole kit and
caboodle is right on top of us.”

As the Laramie man and the prince of the bowie turned
their horses, a swarm of Sioux poured over the upper
edge of the cleared stretch and came rushing for *the
wagons. ‘

_ The pards; noting the point in the circle formed by the
escort toward which the Sioux were heading, spurred to-
ward it. Holcomb went with them. \

“Steady, men!” yelled Holcomb. “Wait till they get
close before you fire. If you see a white man with yellow
hair, single him out.’

The Sioux gave vent to their war cries, the bedlam ris-
ing high over the slapping of their ponies’ hoofs in the
sand. On they came like a pack of painted demons, war
bonnets fluttering and the manes and tails of their ponies
streaming in the wind. To an ordinary observer their
onset would: have seemed irresistible, but the veterans of
the escort knew well that the first round of cold lead
would stop the yelling and give the reds something else
to think. about. :

Old Nomad’s rifle was in his hands and ready.

“Hurry up, cap,” he called, “er I’m goin’ ter bust loose
without waitin’ fer any o’ yer dough boys ter keep me
comp’ny.”

The infantrymen were down on their knees in the
_ brush. In spite of the temptation to fire before Holcomb
gave the order, not one of the seasoned regulars let his
nerves get away with him.

“Ready!” yelled Holcomb.

Rifles jumped to the shoulders of the infantrymen.

“Fire!”

Along the line belched smoke, and flame, and’ death.
' The horde of Sioux did not check its speed, but swerved

to the right and flung onward, spitting a return volley as
it went. oe

A soldier rose from his knees and crumpled backward,
throwing his rifle a dozen feet as he fell. A teamster
jumped down from his wagon to cut the traces of a dead
male. Another teamster dropped his lines and looked at
his right hand, which was minus a finger. The surprise
on his face would have been ludicrous had it not been
tragic. A yell of pain,burst from the teamster when he
finally realized what had happened. A soldier jumped up
behind him and grabbed at the lines.

As the wave of Sioux dashed on and vanished across
the cieared stretch to eastward, they left behind them sev-
eral ponies, down and kicking, and four or five warriors,

SAY PDN Be Bite BAN gern atm Nts can Lm se nme ea 4 SN nts la ie AP N09 3s

BIEL, SPORES:

“Hurry up those wagons!” roared Holcomb.

The enemy had vanished, but was liable to appear again
at any moment. The twelve wagons were rapidly formed
into a circle within half a pistol shot of the river, and men
with picks and shovels began to heave at the earth among
the outer wheels. ‘

The teamsters were busy unhitching the mules and get-
ting the plunging beasts into the middle of the wagon
corral, where they would be comparatively safe.

The biggest part of the escort was still formed around ©
the wagons, waiting for the next blow to fall.

But another stroke did not come just at that time. Tak-
ing heart, the teamsters began leading the mules in the
direction of the river, an escort deploying, out to guard
them.

From the trees along the river bank came reports of
rifles, and another mule was knocked out and a second
teamster wounded. ‘

Buffalo Bill and his pards, rallying to the aid of the
soldiers who were guarding the teamsters, plunged into
the woods. After a brisk skirmish, during which many
shots were exchanged, but without much effect, the Sioux
were driven from the river bank. Be

The mules were then watered without trouble.

“That will be all till to-night,’ remarked Holcomb.
“I guess Cayuse had the number right, Cody. I judge
there were a hundred of them.”

“Cayuse is not usually far wrong in his figures, Hol-
comb,’ returned the scout. “It. would be well to have an
early supper, and then put Out the fires before sundown.’

“Right,” answered the captain.

Buffalo Bill stepped over to where Wild Bill was sit-
ting on the ground, and Pawnee Bill was bandaging his
left arm.

“One of the reds took a hack at me, Pard Cody,”
laughed the Laramie man, locking up as the scout came
to a halt at his side.

“That must have been when you first saw them, eh?’
queried the scout.

“Pawnee and I loped over a hill right in front of them.
We didn’t stop to explain, but proceeded to get back over
the hull again. They let us have it, and then’s where my
arm went wrong.”

“Our horses did well for us, necarnis,” commented the
bowie man. “If they hadn’t been better than the Sioux
cayuses we'd never have got in.”

“Is the arm in bad shape?” queried the scout.

‘“No—just a gouge.”

Buffalo Bill crossed the inside of the circle formed by
the wagons. He passed a soldier, who was having a hole
in his shoulder patched up by a comrade, and reached the
wagon where the teamster with the maimed hand was
getting his hurt attended to by another teamster.

“Thet was er blame’ good finger,” grunted the wounded
teamster regretfully ; “an’ she’s gone.”

“You're in luck, Jackson,” said the. scout, “ahat you
didn’t lose your hand or your arm.” ee

“I never can deal no fancy game o’ kyards no more,’
returned Jackson; ‘‘an’ that’s what’s a-worryin’ me
Ney
most:
“How’s Crooked Ben ?” inquired the scout.

“Ain't paid no attention to him, Buffer Bill, T’ve had
too many things ter think erbout.”

The scout climbed up on a wheel. and lifted the edge
of the canvas top. |

 

 

 

 
 

Sp SET Ne TO

THE. BUBBALO
< \ z
The hunchback was lying on his makeshift bed just as
when he had been put there that morning. Buffalo Bill
reached in and laid a hand on his breast.
The heart was beating regularly, but the eyes were
closed.

“Hello, Ben!” the scout called, pushing the oe

man’s shoulder slightly.

There was no answer.

“Tt beats the deuce,” muttered the scout, dropping down
from the side of the wagon.

“Ain’t he woke up yit, Buffer } ?”’ came the voice of old
Nomad.

The trapper had followed the scout to the wagon and
was waiting with deep interest for his report.

“No, Nick,” Buffalo Bill answered.

“Ain't thet er brain twister? Never heerd nothin’ like
et afore. Is he breathin’ reg’lar?”’

Ves:

“Ticker goin” as per usual ?”’

SY se

“Then I reckon he won’t never wake up till we ee ter
the cantonment an’ hey a doctor work at him.”

“Did you see a white man with yellow hair among the
Sioux when they charged us?” asked the scout.

“Nary, Buffler. I was lookin’ fer him purty clost, too.
I reckon they’ve had enough an’. thet they won't come back
ergin. Ef they do, howsumever, I'll hev another look fer
ther white leader o’ thet pizen outfit.”

“They'll come back again, Nick, ” declared the scout.

“T ain't so blame’ shore o’ thet, pard. The’s fifty o’
us with this wagon train, countin’ teamsters, cooks, an’
all; an’ no Injun feels rale comfortable onless he outnum-
bers er enemy erbout four ter one. They won't

Old Nomad: was standing close to the rear wheels of
the wagon, leaning back against one of them. Something
slapped against the tire directly behind him and whipped
into space with a murderous whistle.

Nomad jumped, reaching one hand around.to his back.

“Waugh!” he muttered, with a grin, “I reckon I got
another guess comin’, Buffler. Thet. wagon tire was all
thet saved yer ole pard from.gittin’ his ticket ter kingdom
come.’
- The trapper had left his rifle on the opposite side of
the inclosure formed by the wagons, and he leaped away
after it.

 

CHAPTER. VE.
A DANGEROUS MISSION.

A venturesome savage had crawled in on the train sta
taken. a shot at old N omad. As the trapper had remarked,
only the wagon tire saved him.

With his breech-loader Nomad banged away at the place
from which the shot had come. Failing to secure any-
thing in the way of tangible results, he ran out between
two of the wagons and galloped a eircle around the wagon
fort. He came backintensely disgusted, for he had found
no one.

“T reckon tner hull outfit hés moved on, Buffler,” he
remarked.

“Tf they have, Nick,” said the scout, ‘they'll move back
again by nightfall.”

The scout was right. Supper was prepared and eaten

qomecore

 

REO G pe SSSARS NEE LS P D TOSETG a N OE

‘our aid. The question is, who'll go:

BILL. STORIES. 2 9

nd fires were drawn. As night settled down, the Indians
drew in EOE all sides.

Bullets began to whistle, plunking into wagon boxes

or grain bags, or into an occasional mule or soldier. “Those

an ‘the hastily improvised rifle pits under the wagons

watched the flashes and fired at them.

It was impossible-to tell when a bullet went to its mark.
Buffalo Bill and pards were moving about the inclosure,
watching the shooting as well as they could, and now and
then slipping im a shot themselves.

Some one totiched the scout on the arm.
and found a dark figure at his side.

“Who is it?’ he asked, peering through the dark.»

“Hobson,” was the answer. “This way, Buffalo Bill.
The captain wants a word with you and your ‘pards,”

The three Bills and old Nomad set off with Hobson,
and came presently to the place where Holcomb was sit-
ting under the lee of a wagon.

“Here’s the king of scouts, captain,” said Hobson.
~“T want a few words with you, Cody,” observed Hol-
comb. “What do you think of this layout, anyway?”

“We have plenty of ammunition and foed and are -
handy to water,’ said the scout. ‘We can stand off the
reds tHl snow. 7)

. “Yes, D reckon we can; but standing ’em off isn’t going
to get us anywhere. We can’t move.’

“It would be dangerous to attempt to move
the scout.

“And we won't be able to graze the saddle stock.”

“That's right, too.”

“Nor the mules.”

=NOW

“Some one has got to return to Benton for help.”

“Why to Benton?” queried the scout. ‘““There’s a good
force of men at the cantonment, and we're nearer the
Musselshell than Benton.”

“Thats 2 tact. 1. hadn€ thought. or: the cantonment,
but they ought to be able to help. They have cavalry

there, and it wouldn’t take the troopers long to come to
???

He turned

, agreed

a

me anal

Every one of the pards spoke up promptly.

“You can’t all go,’ said Holcomb. “I can’t spare too
many of my men. Two'll, be enough. It’s a dangerous
job, as I reckon you know. The reds are all around us.
The night, however, will help. The next best help will
be a horse with fleet heels.”

“Yes,” said the scout, “two will be enough.”

“T’ll leave it to you, Cody,’ went on Holcomb. “Pick
out the men.”

“Don’t ovérlook me; Pard Cody,
man.

“Yes, I will, Hickok. The game arm bars you out.”

“Then what’s ther matter with me, Buffler?”’ asked the
trapper eagerly.

“Only two can go, Nick,” laughed the scout, “and I’ve

39

said the Laramie

picked out Pawnee for one of them.”

“Why not me fer number two?’

“T’ve selected myself for number two.”

“When’ll you start, Cody?” spoke up Holcomb.

“Not.for two or three hours yet. It will be darker by
that time, and the reds will be growing’a little bit tired
of this hit-and-miss shooting. Meanwhile, Pawnee and
I will stretch out under the wagons and get a little sleep.
See that we’re aroused in three hours, at the outside,
Holcomb.”

 

a a te aie he At ee in mtn Lea IS RBH: fe rth di nn RR. ae Se ORR eH PS OSE A Pa Names Ce Ms sate eats seco tyrone ea rte scteedtny i ie “OaF
‘ s 3 sear a . Bi hs

 
 

TO THE BUFFALO
ed) take care at that, Cody.”
_ The scout and the prince of the bowie, as well as their
pards, had had little sleep the night before. A little rest
now would put them in tiptop condition for the danger-
ous work before them.

They crawled under one of the wagons, and, with their
saddles for pillows, wereysoon asleep.

Rifles banged and coined in the darkness around them,
and bullets rang against wagon tires and glanced, singing,
off into space, or thumped into wagon boxes, or into the

_ earthen ridge of the rifle pits, or whistled harmlessly
through the air between the wagons; the pards slum-
bered on serenely.

“Buffler an’ Pawnee aire hoggin’ ther excitement,’
grumbled the old trapper to the Laramie man. ‘I don’t
like et, Wild Bill.”

“How are you going to help it, Nick?” inquired the
Laramie man jestingly.

ot got er idee,”

“What is it?”

“Why, you an’ me could git our ‘hosses an’ slip out er
cainp afore Buffler an’ Pawnee wakes up.”

“No, you don’t, old Rough-and-ready,” laughed Wild
Bill. “Pard Cody has told us what he’s going to do, and
that settles it. He’s the boss.”

“Shore he’s ther boss, an’ fer thet reason he’s needed
hyar a heap more’n you an’ me. He don’t want you ter
go kase ye got er game arm, an’ he don’t want me ter go
kase he don’t think my hoss, Hide-rack, is fast enough ter
show his heels ter-them Sioux cayuses. Ef we could git
erway afore he wakes up, I reckon we could prove ter
Buffler thet Hide-rack’s ther cl’ar quill, an’ thet yore game
arm ain’t put ye on ther retired list.”

_ “We'll stay here, Nick,” returned Wild Bill decisively.

“Shore,” growled the old trapper in deep disappoint-
ments ;

It seemed to the scout as though he had hardly laid his
head on the saddle before Holcomb was calling him.

“It’s about ten o'clock, Buffalo Bill,’ said the captain,
“and I think it’s time you and Pawnee were getting un-
der way.”

“Tt certainly looks plenty dark enough,’”’ answered the
scout, crawling out from under the wagon and looking
about him and overhead.

There was no moon, and scurrying clouds did much to
hide the stars.

“Hyar’s B’ar Paw an’ Chick-Chick,” came the voice of .
old Nomad through the gloom. “I’ve got ‘em ready fer

ye, Butler.” | :

“Much obliged, Nick,” said the scout,
time.” |

“How will you leave the camp?’ asked Holcomb.

“We'll leave by the west side.’

“But the Musselshell is east of here.”

“We'll double back to the east.. By starting west, if the
teds happen to see us they'll get the notion that we’re
Lound back to Benton.. That ought to give us tolerably
clear sailing toward the Musselshell.”

“Ts there anything we can do to help you, Cody ?”

“You can have the men on the east side of the wagons
do a little brisk firing. That will concentrate tHe atten-
tion of the Indians in that quarter and give us more of
a chance to the west.”

“TH do it.”

“Also,” went on the scout, “inform the men on the

“it will save

a aa erecta emcees at ere —

BILL STORIES:

west side what we're about to do, so they won't be taking
pot shots at us.”

“Vou see to that part of it, Hobson,” said Holcomb,
“and l’ll go and see after the fireworks on the east side.”

The captain went one way through the gloom and the
lieutenant went the other. Buffalo Bill and Pawnee Bill
led their horses to a gap in the wagons, and stood waiting
by their saddle stirrups.

There seemed to be a good many active redskins on the
west side of the wagons. More flashes split the gloom
from that side, apparently, than from any other.
 ©Ye picked out ther wust place fer a gitaway, Buffler,”
declared old Nomad. ‘“Ye'll run right inter a pack o’
ther varmints. Better git down to’rd the river.”

“Wait till the men on the other side tune up, Nick,”
returned the scout. ‘That will change the complexion of
alfains here.”

Just at that moment the answering rifles of the soldiers
suddenly ceased on that side of the camp. _

“T’ve told the boys, Buffalo Bill,” remarked Hobson,
drawing near the scout, “and they've stopped using their
riffes,”’

Lurid splotches of flame broke through the night at a
redoubled rate.

“Them pizen reds hey got ther idee thet they've done
some damage ter the sogers in this part o ther camp,”
said Nomad. “Afore ye know et, Buffler, the Sioux will
be chargin’ right up ter these wagons.”

At that juncture the rifles of the men across the in-
closure jumped into a. spasm of activity. Between each
round came a sharp clatter of breechblocks.. Every sol-
dier had five cartridges in his teeth,.and the interval be-
tween shots was short.

The flashes in the west diminished suddenly. It was
very evident that the Indians on the west side were mov-
ing around to see what was going on in the east.

“That's what I thought would happen,” said the scout.
AXE ready, Pawnee.”

Both pards rose to their saddles.

“Tell the man under these wagons to give us five min-
utes, Hobson,” said the scout. “et them tune up as
merrily as they please after that. We'll be out of- the
way.”
The scout spurred through between the wagons and
Pawnee Bill silently followed him. Wild Bill, Nomad,
and Little Cayuse watched until they melted into the
gloom. They would have watched longer had not Jack-
son, the teamster, come up to them just at that moment.

“Crooked Ben’s got back to yarth,” he announced, “an’
is askin’ fer Buffler Bill.” ;

“He's too late to get Buffalo Bill,” said the Laramie
man; “but Nick and I will find out what he has to say.
You'd better send Holcomb to the wagon, too, Jackson.
He'll be interested.” | ;

Jackson went off to look up the captain, and Wild Bill
and old Nomad started for the wagon in which Crooked
Ben was lying.

CHAPTER VII,
CROOKED BEN’S REPORT.

_ Jackson had heaped up a pile of boxed Zoods at one
side of the hunchback’s bed in the wagon, in order to save
him from any bullet that might come straying from the

 

G

fle
te
ee

al
mM

 

 

 
 

>

 

 

see

THE. BUPPALO

Indians. Wild Bill and Nomad pushed their heads and
shoulders under the lower edge of the canvas top. They
could see nothing inside the wagon, but they could hear
somebody moving.

“Hello, Ben!” called the Laramie man.

“Who's that?” came the shrill voice of the hunchback.

“Wild Bill,” was the answer, “and old Nomad.” .

“T want to talk with Buffalo Bill,’ fretted Crooked Ben.

“Which ye kain’t, Ben,” spoke up the trapper. ‘“Buif-
fler hes jest left ter run ther Injun lines. Pawnee went
with him. Ef ye got anything ter say, ye’d better say et
ter us.”

“Then I’m too late, too late,’ groaned Crooked Ben.
“Can’t you call the scout back?”

“Wouldn’t dare ter call him back. He wouldn’t come,
anyways, an’ ther Injuns ’u’d hear us an’ git er tip thet
might make rough work fer Buffler an’ Pawnee.”

Holcomb, just then, pushed his own head and shoulders
up under the canvas.

“How are you feeling, Crooked Ben?” he inquired.

“Is that you, Captain Holcomb?’

“Vesr

“Well,” replied the hunchback, “I’m feeling rather
gloomy. The Sioux are fighting you?”

The steady banging and plunking was going on all
around the camp.

“Sounds like et, don’t et?” said old Nomad. *
“Tt sounds like a battle was going on; that’s a fact,”

Panswered Crooked Ben. ‘And I’m responsible for it!”
He muttered. .0 7 i

‘How do you make that out?” queried Holcomb.

“T’ll tell you in a minute. How was I brought in here?
The last thing I remember, my horse went down under
me and I was standing on the ground, wondering what
move I should make next. Then suddenly oblivion came.
I remember nothing more until I came to myself in the
dark and called out. The teamster, Jackson, answered
me. I sent him for Buffalo Bill, and you tell me that
Buffalo Bill has left to run the Indian lines.”

“That’s the way the situation stacks up, Ben,” said
the captain. “You’ve been several hours in an uncon-
scious condition.”

“Br Sioux bullet come within er ha’r’s breadth o’ git-
tin’ ye,” put in Nomad. “Ye got er rap thet took yore
wits, an’ ther lead slug let et go at thet.”

“Two days ago,” said Crooked Ben, “a white man.and
an Indian came to my place and made a prisoner out of
me. The Indian was a Sioux and the white man was
called Masta Shella. He had blue eyes and long yellow
hair. They: S

“Vellow hair!’ broke in the captain. ;

“Ves,” resumed the hunchback. “They captured me and
carried me into my cavern in Lone Tree Hill.”

“Thet’s ther second time ther job was done, Ben,’
remarked the old trapper. :

_ “Tt was done this time with a different purpose,” con-
tinued Crooked Ben. “The Indians, it seems, have come
to regard me as a medicine man, and this Masta Shella

 

and his comrade, Broken Arrow, were from a party of

Sioux hostiles., The Sioux hostiles, it appears, wantet
to return to their haunts near the Black Hills, but Masta
Shella and Broken Arrow wanted them to come north
and attack this wagon train. Tlie white renegade and his
Sioux ally couldn’t persuade the reds to keep up their
war, and so they told them to come to me and ask my

already happened.

 

BILL STORIES. 11
advice. The Sioux warriors agreed to do this. Masta
Shella and Broken Arrow, as I have. said, came to Lone
Tree Hill, captured me and went»into my cave with me.

/ When the Sioux came for their advice, Masta Shella

played the part of myself, and advised the Sioux*to go
on the warpath and to follow the lead of Masta Shella
and Broken Arrow.”

“Waugh!” grunted Nomad, “thet was er scheme fer
yer life ©

“Masta Shella and Broken Arrow were playing both
ends against the middle,” commented Holcomb,

‘Heads I win, tails you lose,’ chuckled Wild Bill. “Go
On, en. E

‘When the Sioux went away and Broken Arrow and

Masta Shella had left,” procééded the hunchback, “I suc-

ceeded in freeing myself and started north at once. I was
several hours behind the Sioux, but I came close to them
the next morning. They were pushing for the Upper
Missouri River, and I hung on their trail, feeling sure
that they would lead me to the wagon train. At first
there were no more than thirty or forty of the Indians,
but other. small bands kept joining them until their total
mumber was easily one hundred.

“Early in the forenoon of to-day, I blundered into a
draw and almost ran into Masta Shella, Broken
Yellow Horse, and Bear-that-climbs. Yellow Horse is a
war chief of the Sioux f .

“Vellow Horse!” exclaimed Holcomb.
the name of a Crow war chief.”

“This is not the Crow,’ said Crooked Ben.
Yellow Horse, the Crow, and this buck is a Sioux.
has the same name.”

“T see, Ben. Go on.”

“Well, I couldn’t get out of the draw without having
the white man and the three Indians see me, and | couldn't
go on. | had to.stay right where | was among the bushes
and wait. While 1 was waiting I heard what the four
were talking about.” e

Crooked Ben stifled a groan.

“What was they torkin’ erbout?” urged old Nomad.

“Why, about getting this wagon train at bay. I never,
in all my life, heard a scoundrel plan so cunningly as that
white renegade, Masta Shella. They all talked in the
Sioux language, but I can talk it fairly well, and under-
stand it better than I can talk it. So there was little said
that I didn’t hear. Masta Shella asserted that, with the
big force of Sioux which they had, the train could easily
be rounded up. Their scouts had told them the number
of wagons, the number of the escort, and the number
of scouts. ‘When we get the yellow eyes where they
can neither scratch nor get away, said Masta Shella,
‘then the white chief in-command will ask for volun-
teers to slip through our lines for reénforcements. Butf-
falo Bill and his pards will be the ones to volunteer.
They won’t go to Fort Benton, but to the mouth of the
Musselshell for reénforcements. We have a band of
twenty warriors near the old Traders’ Ford, and we can
have those warriors lay for the scout and his pards when
they try to come through.’ This, Captain Holcomb, is
what I heard from the cunning schemer, Masta Shella.”

“He certainly was cunning enough to figure our what
would happen, Ben,’ observed Holcomb; “and .it. has
The scout and the bowie man have
left the wagons to get through the Sioux lines and bring
help from the cantonment on the Musselshell.”

Arrow ;

 

COUNT

Why,. that's

“| know

He

i

 
it’s really a ferry.

2 | THE BUFFALO

“They will drop into a trap at Traders’ Ford,” said
Crooked Ben huskily.

“Bord?” echoed old Nomad.
ther Missoury eround hyar?”

“It’s called a ford,” explained Captain Holcomb, “but
It is not in use now, but the ferry-
man’s cabin is still there, unless the reds have burned it
recently.”

“Why ther blazes didn’t ye come to afore Buffler an’
Pawnee lit out, Ben?” grumbled the trapper.

“I wish it had turned out that way,’ answered the
hunchback.

“Did you hear any more of this Masta Shella’s plans °”

‘Is thar a ford acrost

asked Holcomb.

“No more. Masta Shella and the three Indians
mounted their ponies and rode out of the draw. I fol-
lowed them, and thought I had got safely away when a
pat of ponies’ feet behind me caused me to look around.
Masta Shella and Broken Arrow were following me at
top speed. JI urged my. horse, but he was almost spent
and could not run very fast. Then came the shot that
dropped the poor brute in his tracks, and then the second
shot that dropped me.’

“You have done a fine thing, Crooked Ben,” said Hol-
comb, “fin getting away and coming, at stich a risk,
to warn. us.

“It was right that I should tell you how Masta Shella
and Broken Arrow had used me to make the Sioux keep
up their hostilities. By so small a trifle did peace or war
hang on the Upper Missouri! In their hearts, the hostile
Sioux were anxious to bury the hatchet and go back to
their own Pah-sap-pah, but through the wiles of Masta
Shella they have been led to continue on the war trail.”

“This same Masta Shella is a cunning tinhorn,” re-
marked Wild Bill.

“Did you hear his name, Crooked Ben?” asked Hol-
comb.

- “No; his tal name was not spoken while he and
Broken Arrow were at Lone Tree Hill.”

“Do you know whether or not he knew Blix, the white

renegade who formerly led the hostiles?”

“He said that Blix was his pard, Captain Holcomb,”
Ah! 72

“And that he wanted to olay even with Buffalo Bill
and pards, and with the soldiers, for what happened to
Blix. If the scout is captured at Traders’ Ford, he will
be held for torture.”

Old Nomad vented his anger under his breath and
Wild Bill muttered to himself.

Before the conversation could proceed further, a tre-
mendous clatter of firearms came from the south and
west. The bullets were not launched at the wagons, and
it seemed as though the Sioux had encountered another
foe.

“Reénforcements !’’ cried Wild Bill, as he, and Nomad,
and Holcomb drew away from the wagon.

“Hardly that, Hickok,” returned the captain. ‘There
are no reenforcements we can expect until Cody and
Lillie get through to the cantonment and bring them.”

“Thet firin’ means,’ said Nomad, “thet Buffler an’
Pawnee hev been diskivered. From now on, ef their
hosses’ heels kain’t save ’em, nothin’ will. An’, ef they’re
lucky enough ter git cl’ar o’ this bunch o’ reds, thar’s ther
bunch at Traders’ Ford waitip’ fer ‘em. Sufferin’ side-

   

ste mat oh lc ARN nk eA Sai A Nae Ain | a ae pos ag Gale eed ig!

 

BILL: STORIES:

winders! Ain’t et a pesky mean prone ever thin
considered >”

CHAPTER VY iit:
GETTING THROUGH THE LINES.

For several minutes Buffalo Bill and Pawnee Bill, on
leaving the wagons to carry out their desperate mission,
had no difficulty whatever.

They spurred directly westward, their mounts at a slow
gait, for a rapid pace would have caused more noise and
spread alarm.among the Sioux.

The place from which so much of the fring had been
done on the western side of the camp was now clear for
the passage of the pards. No enemy appeared to dis-
pute their way, and they rode onward, congratulating
themselves upon their good luck.

When out of rifle shot of the wagons they halted for
counsel.

“Where do you suppose the reds are, necarnis?”’ whis-
pered the bowie man. “This good luck is too good to be
true. I’m afraid some one has got a string to it.”

“The only way I can figure it out.is on the supposition
that the brisk firing from the eastern side of the wagons
drew all the Sioux in that direction.”

‘Then they'll drift back again.”

“They're back now;” and the scout turned to watch
the fiery flashes spurting in the night. ‘“They’re back and
we're beyond them.”

“On-she-ma-da, but this is better than I had dared to
hope for. ‘Ii we swing around the wagon in a wide circle,
we ought to clear the reds.”

Les 9} 4

“Then we might as well get headed for that cantonment
on the Musselshell; eh?”

“The quicker we get headed in that direction, Pawnee,
the quicker we're going to bring back reénforcements to
Holcomb.”

The detour the pards made was a wide one... First,
they rode straight southward, away from the river, for
about a mile; then they pointed their horses eastward.

Just when they were again congratulating themselves
on their continued good luck, a rider dashed suddenly up
to them, stared into their faces a horse’s length away,
then whirled around ,with a wild yell.

Bullets leaped from the weapons of both the pards;
but the Indian was too quick to lose himself in the night,
and the bullets went wide.

‘This means trouble, Pawnee,” declared the scout
hastily. “Now we're going to pay for all the good luck
that was with us when we started.”

From behind the pards came a pat-a, pat-a, pat-a of
hoofs. ABey struck spurs to their horses and bounded
away,

A clatter of guns awoke the echoes in the rear, and a
rain of bullets cut the air all around them. Fortunately
not one of the bullets did any damage.

« This was the firing heard by Wild Bill, Nomad, and
Fehon,

“Turn to the right, Pawnee,”
I think we can dodge ’em,”

“To the right it is, necarnis,”’ assented the bowie man.
They had scarcely started in this direction .when

sugse ted the scout, “and

 

 
 

hin’

 

 

PET ace een Pett Leer pa eee ae eee ead tere OMA Ie acne ioreteece eT ee

THE BUFFALO

Pawnee Bill’s horse gave a frightened snort, tried to slow
up, and then stumbled over something in kis path and
fell sprawling.

The prince of the bowie shot out of the stirrups and
landed on head and shoulders, two or three yards be-
yond. It was well for him that he did so, otherwise he
would have been caught under the rolling body of Chick-
Chick. é

Buffalo Bill drew rein and slid out of his saddle.

“Pawnee!” he asked, in trepidation,

“On deck,” was the prompt response. ‘Never touched
me, Pard Bill. What was that the buckskin tripped
over?’

“A dead pony,” said the scout, examining the obstacle.

“Why should there be a dead pony here? This isn’t
the place where | picked up Crooked Ben.” q

“But it’s the place where the soldiers stood off the
first rush of the Sioux when we were on our way to the
river. Here’s a redskin, feathers and all. Aye, and a
blanket! He didn’t strip for action very much when he
went into that fight,”

“The reds are slow about getting their lost braves off

the field—slower than they usually are.” Pawnee Bill

gave an exclamation. “‘Here’s another of the bucks,”
said he, “with a headdress and a blanket.” |

“Good!” said the scout. “Take the war bonnet and the
blanket and put them on.”

The prince of the bowie was silent for a moment, and
then he chuckled as the purpose of the scout’s ruse flashed
over him,

“By my medicine, necarnis,’ murmured the bowie
man, “that suggestion is ace high,” wee

Removing their sombreros, the pards wadded them
up and thrust them into the breasts of their coats; then
they donned the war bonnets, mounted their horses, and
spread the blankets over their shoulders.

Meanwhile the redskins, whom they had teniporarily
thrown off the trail, had been hunting for them. They
could hear the patter of the ponies’ hoofs coming their
way.

“Time to move again, Pard Bill,” whispered the prince
of the bowie.

They used their spurs and darted eastward for perhaps .

half a mile, as near as they could judge, and then, with a
suddenness that took their breath, found themselves con-
fronted by a latge force of warriors.

“Who comes?” demanded one of the Sioux.

“A brother,” answered the scout in the same language. |

“What seeks my brother?”

“Those who have come from the wagons.”

“They did not come in this direction.”

“We cannot find them in any other direction.”

“Then we will turn our ponies and ride with you.”
This was a turn of events which promised ill for the

pards. Their feathers and blankets and the scout’s Sioux ©
- talk had fooled the red men for the moment, but it was
too much to hope that the Sioux could be deceived for
Tong.

The party of Indians turned their ponies. The pards
rode side by side, flanked on either hand by savage ene-

mies, who, if they had but suspected the truth, could have

slain them in a moment.

Fortunately there was little talk, and the red men and
the two whites jogged onward through the shifting shad-

@

¢

BILL STORIES. 13

ows. The course was still eastward. Presently some of

the redskins turned to the south and seme to the north.
No more than half a dozen were left with Buffalo Bill
and Pawnee Bill.

“We have gone far enough, my brother,” remarked the
Indian who had spoken to the scout the first time.

As he called he reined in his pony.

“We are going farther,” the scout answered.

He touched Bear Paw with the rowels. The clink of
the spur must have informed the Sioux of the truth.
Instantly there came a shout, then a shot; then a bedlam
of shouts and a fusillade of shots.

There was no Sioux cayuse in all that crowd, however,
that could match Bear Paw and Chick+Chick for speed:
and as for the shooting, the darkness of the night made
that but little more than pure guesswork.

The pards drew away from the pursuing Sioux, and at
last heard the hoofbeats die away in the distance behind
them.

“We're all right now, necarnis,” said Pawnee Bill, pull-
ing Chick-Chick to a slower pace.

“That must have been the last lot of warriors,” the
scout answered. “They were pretty well scattered. Not

a quarter of them were around the wagons.”

“There's a big gang, and Holcomb will have the time
opis life holding out in case we don’t make a quick trip
to the Musselshell and back again.”

“Holcomb can hold out for several days, I think,
Pawnee. He has the men and the ammunition and plenty
of food and water.”

“The trouble is, necarnis,’ went’ on the bowie man,
“that the reds outnumber Holcomb’s force so greatly, ©
they can let half the warriors rest while the other half
do their sniping. When one gang of redskins gets tired,
the other half can come on; but Holcomb, on the other
hand, has got to keep his men on the defensive all the
time.”

“He'll plan it so as to give part of them a chance to
rest,” said the scout. “Dll admit that Holcomb has got
a hard job on his hands; but he’s a long-headed captain
and game to the backbone.”

“This brush with the Sioux is a good deal of a disap-
pointment to me, Pard Bill.”

“In what way, Pawnee?”

“Why, I was sure that the capture of Blix had put an
end to a small Sioux uprising. But it didn’t.’

“Tt would have put an end to the uprising if another
white renegade hadn’t stepped into Blix’s shoes.”

“An-pe-tu-we! I'd give something valuable to know
who that white kiyi is.”

For the rest of that night the pards pushed steadily
eastward. When morning dawned they halted to let
their mounts rest and graze. Aftéga two hours’ delay they
saddled up once more and continued on toward the Mus-
selshell.

They were traveling quite close to the river, with a
fringe of timber on their left and the open plain on their
right, :
“The place called Traders’ Ford is just ahead,” .said
the scout, “and from the Ford to the Musselshell is only
a good brisk march.”

“Do you think i

Pawnee Bill did not free his mind of the observation
he had been about to make.

 

   

 
 

Pe ae ee eee ” i SF it

ig THE BUFFALO

From beyond the fringe of timber there came the
hoarse note of a rifle, followed by Indian yells.

“Tell me about this!” exclaimed the prince of the
bowie “More of the Sioux, necarnis, and I was sure we
had left them all behind.”

“We'll take time to investigate that stretch of timber,
Pawnee,” declared the scout. “That shot meant some-
thing ca le eg

CHAPTER IX.
THE MAN IN THE RIVER.

The scout turned sharply to the left, in the direction
of the timber that bordered. the river. Pawnee Bill
spurred after him closely, and they were soon in the
screen of the timber.

“T can’t understand how there happens to be more
Sioux so near the cantonment,” said the scout to the
bowie man. |

| “Maybe it’s @l part of a deep-laid plan to get L&
of the wagon train at any cost,” suggested Pawnee Bill.

But the scout shook his head.

“TI hadn’t a notion there were half as many hostiles
loose in the Indian country as we've seen since mid-
night.”

Halting Bear Paw, the scout inclined his head to listen.
There was no more shooting, but he seemed to hear
a splashing in the river, as well as a concerted movement
along the river bank. :

“What do you make of this, Pawnee?” he asked.

‘“There’s something going on in the water, necarnis,
but-the timber’s too thick and I can’t see what it is,’ the
bowie man answered.

‘We'll get closér to the water, then.” i

The banks of the river, at that point, consisted of a
series of low bluffs. The pards rode to the edge of the

bluffs and looked straight down at the water, not more

than twenty feet below.

‘There was a straightaway stretch of water before
ther, and they could look upstream and see a log house
nestling in a gap among the bluffs. A dim road led down
through the gap and to.an old framework of planks that
looked as though it mignt have served, once upon a time,
for a landing wharf. Across the river there was another
framework of planks.

“That's where the old ferry used to be, Pawnee,” ob-
served the scout; “and there’s the ferryman’s log house.
Down at the bottom of that wharf is a skiff, with a pair
of oars across the thwarts.”

“That would indicate that some one is. living in the
house at the present time,’ said the bowie man.

“The skiff looks as though it had recently been used,

oe

BILL STORIES.

and that’s a fact. If the skiff belonged to the old ferry-
man, it is in@ ~emarkable state of preservation.”

“T ook out in the middle of the river, necarnis!” cried
the prince of the bowie excitedly. “See what's sliding
down the river in the direction of the old ferry.”

The scout turned his head for a look up the river, and
immediately reflected some of his pard’s excitement.

_A dead tree was floating downstream. It was a cotton-
wood, and its trunk and gnarled limbs had been exposed
so long to wind and weather that they had bleached out
white.

What aroused the interest and curiosity of the pards,
however, was the fact that there was a man hanging to
the tree.

_ Across, on the opposite bank of the river, Indians were
to be seen on foot, chasing along and keeping abreast of
the cottonwood and the man,

As the pards watched, they saw one Indian lift a-rifle
to his shoulder and send a shot at the man on the float-
ing tree.

The cottonwood was bobbing around in the current at
such a rate that the man was anything but an easy mark.
The bullet went over the man and sent up a little spurt
of water.

“Those are Sioux on the other bank,” declared Pawnee
Bill. | |

“But who the man on the tree?” inquired the scout.

“He looks like a tramp. I’ve never seen him before.”

“Then I’m far wide of my trail, Pawnee. If I’m not
mistaken, you saw that tramp first in Cheyenne.”

“Shades of Unk-te-hee!’ gasped the bowie man.
“You're-right, Pard Bil. That fellow out there on that
bit.of drift is either the Sachem of Saginaw or his
double.” | |

“The Sachem of Saginaw passed out of existence and
Captain Hollis took his place. The Sachem was Captain
Hollis in disguise; but the captain had no further need

of a disguise after Blix avas run to earth and admitted
the murder of Lieutenant Elridge at Fort Custer.”

“That’s what makes me think that can’t be Hollis. He
has no excuse for masquerading as the Sachem now.”

“Have you forgotten,” asked the scout, “that Hollis,
after struggling for years to clear his record of a foul
blot, came through the ordeal with a twist to his mental
apparatus? He wasn’t exactly right when we saw him
last at Fort Custer, Pawnee.” : ;

“The colonel at Custer thought he was sane enough to
detail him for service at Fort Benton.”

“For all that, Pawnee, there’s no doubt but that Hollis
is a bit queer. That fact may account for his reappearing
in his tramp disguise again.”

“How does it happen that he’s on that tree 2”

“Give it up. We'll have to get him off the tree and
away from the Indians; then, maybe, he’ll tell us how he
happened to get into such a queer fix,”

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—_

 

 

 

THE BUFFALO

The Sioux, on the other bank, did a good deal of shoot-
ing at the man on the tree, but without the least effect.
The cottonwood ducked and bobbed, and whirled around
and around in the current in such violent and dizzy fash-
ion that its passenger was obliged to cling to the stump
of a limb with both arms,

The Indians despaired of accomplishing anything with
their rifles; and two of them, getting well down the river
in advance of the tree, took knives in their teeth, waded
out, and began swimming toward the middle of the
stream. It was their object, of course, to intercept the
tree and attack the white man with their knives.

‘We'll nip that scheme in the bud right here and now,”
muttered the scout.

Throwing his rifle to his shoulder, he drew a bead.on
one of the Indians.

Bang! spoke the weapon.

The bullet tickled the legs of one of the Indians so
violently that both turned back toward shore and swam
as if their lives depended on it.

The other Indians, peering across the river at the spot
from which the shot had come, began discharging’ their
rifles at the pards.

“We'll give them all they want of that,”
prince of the bowie.

Two rifles, controlled by such master hareenien as the
pards, made a formidable battery. The Indians could not
stand out against it, but retreated into the timber.

muttered the

33

“Now, Pawnee,” said the scout, “we must get to that
skiff and row out into the stream and rescue Hollis.” :
“He doesn’t act as though he wanted to be rescued,”
answered Pawnee Bill, “Why doesn’t he say some-
thing?” |
“Tm not guessing conundrums just now, but trying to
work out a mystery connected with this situation in which
we find*Captain Hollis. We'll have to hustle, Pawnee.’
Buffalo Bill urged Bear Paw into as fast a pace as the
nature of the river bank would permit. He succeeded in
reaching the gap and riding down through it to the old
wharf before the floating cottonwood had come abreast

_of the ferryman’s old cabin.

The prince of the bowie was not much longer in get-
ting to the skiff than was the scout. He dismounted, and
both pards pulled their reins over their horses’ heads and
started for the skiff.

3ring a riata, Pawnee,’
shoulder,

The skiff was secured by a painter to a ring in the
wharf timbers.

“This skiff has been used very recently,” declared Buf-
falo Bill, dropping into the boat and sitting down and
shipping the oars.

called the scout over his

“Tnjuns must have used it, then, necarnis,” said the
bowie man, handing his rifle to the scout and then throw-

cast: off, pard,” he added.

BILL STORIES. | | 15

ing his coiled riata into the boat and getting into it him-
sell,
“L think not,” “Hurry up and

“The cottonwood is almost

‘demurred the scout.

upon us.”

Rather than lose time on the hard knot with which
the painter was tied to the ring, the prince of the bowie
jerked his knife from his belt and slashed it through
the rope.

Just as Buffalo Bill got the skiff in motion and pointed
for the tree, the piece of drift was thrown into a little
whirlpool, and began to dance a jig.

Hollis lost his hold on the limb and tumbled into the
water. He found his voice then and gave vent to a loud
call for help. ;

“He’s in the river, all right,” cried Pawnee Bill, stand-
ing up in the skiff and beginning to uncoil his riata and
make teady. for a cast. “Get me close enough, necarnis,”’
he added, “and I'll drop the noose over his head and
shoulders.”

The scout bent to the oars, from time to time looking
over his shoulder to get his bearings with respect to the
man in the water.

“Hang on, Hollis!’ ehoated the bowie man encourag-
ingly. “Keep swimming! We'll pass you a rope in a
minute.”

But Hollis, it could be clearly seen, was tired out from
his tussle with the tree. He was swimming with weak
strokes and was hardly able to keep his head above water.

Paster, pare,” urged Pawnee Bill.” “Vm expecting
him to go down any minute.”

“How much farther, Pawnee?” asked the scout.

“Twerity feet.”

The scout lay back on the o oars, and the waves, striking
the skiff broadside on, sent a mist flying over the thwarts.

“Ten feet more, necarnis!’’ whooped Pawnee Bill.
Then, to the man in the water: “Keep a stiff upper lip,
Hollis. We'll have you in a brace of shakes.”

A few moments later Pawnee Bill called to the scout
to hold the skiff even while he made his cast.

Buffalo Bill steadied the boat with the oars and Pawnee
Bill let the noose fly.

From the bowie man’s triumphant yell ae scout knew
the cast had been a success.

“While I haul him in, necarnis,” said the prince of the
bowie, “you face around and use my rifle. The reds
across the water are getting ready to take another whack
at us,” os

The oe nes around on*the seat and picked up
Pawnee Bill’s big, eight-square buffalo gun, old Spitfire.

An Indian on the opposite bank had a gun to his shoul-
der, but old Spitfire spoke first. It roared like a cannon—
Pawnee’s other rifle, Scolding Sarah, had a milder note-—
and the Indian’s gun dropped from his hand.

 

 
 

16 THE BUFFALO

“Now,” laughed Pawnee, “I reckon they'll leave us
alone while wé, get ashore.”

Hollis, wet as a drowned rat, was in the skiff, and the
scout laid down the rifle and resumed his work at the
oar.

CHAPTER X.
A MIND 0 ERTHROWN.

Captain Hollis was an officer at Fort Custer. Several
months before the date of this story, Hollis, and another
officer at the post named Lieutenant Eldridge, had repri-
manded Sergeant Blix for dereliction of duty.
of a revengeful disposition, and he laid his plans to get
even with both Hollis and Eldridge at the same timt.

One night Blix shot and killed Eldridge, and so manip-
ulated the crime as to make it appear that Hollis had
commmitted the deed. What made the circumstantial
evidence against the captain more accusing was the fact
that Hollis and Eldridge had quarreled over a game of
cards in the officers’ mess.

Hollis was put in the guardhouse, and from there he
escaped, disguised himself. as a tramp, and roamed
through that part of the country hunting for evidence to
clear his name.

Smarting as only an honorable man can under an un-
just accusation of guilt, Hollis endured hardships in-
numerable before he was able finally to “read his title
clear,”

At last, when Blix was run to earth and admitted on
his deathbed that he had killed Eldridge, it was discov-
ered that Hollis’ mind had become unbalanced. It was
only a mild case of lunacy, and the commandant at Fort
Custer believed that a return to the old
post and the society of his comrades would cause the
kinks to leave the captain’s mind.

But this had not. proved to be the ca
Hollis seemed to be getting worse.

Blix was

scenes at the

lf anything,

The colonel consulted with the post doctor, and it
was decided to give Hollis a touch of active service. He
had been detached, therefore, and sent to Fort Benton
with Holcomb to help in the building of the cantonments
and in getting them stocked for the winter.

From Benton he had been sent to the mouth of the
Musselshell, and_it seemed as though active service was
what he needed. The lasithe scout and his pards had
seen of Hollis, he wasgattending strictly to business and
appéared like a em, sane individual.

What had happened since the scout had last seen
Hollis?

This is the question. the scout asked himself. as he

rowed toward shore, the dripping officer in the bottom
of the skiff. |

<a club.

Bie STORIES:

Hollis, who knew the two Bills well, did not recognize
either of them in any way. In his mgs and patches he
sat with head down and paid no heed to what was going
on around him.

“Don’t you know us, captain?” asked Pawnee Bill.

“What were you shooting at me for?” flared Hollis,
lifting his head suddenly.

‘We weren't shooting at you. It was the Indian
across the river who were doing that. ie oe did was
to fight off the reds in order to rescue you.”

“You're Indians yourselves.” A cunning light burned
in the captain’s eyes. “You can’t foolme. You have
painted your faces white, but I’ve fought Indians too
many years to be fooled. You’ve got me hipped, but
wait, Buffalo Bill and his pards will come for me and
you'll have your hands full.”

Pawnee Bill cast a look at the scout. The glance the
scout returned was equally significant.

“How did you happen to get adrift on that tree, cap-
tain?” queried the bowie man. :

gy

“You chased me to the river,” exclaimed the captain,
“and thought you had me, but I’m a gootl jumper and
cleared the river from bank to bank at a single leap. |
found more Indians on the other side, so I jumped to the
middle of the river and landed on that cottonwood log.”
The scout laid the skiff alongside the wharf. Hollis
suddenly lost his listless attitude. As though to prove
that he was a champion jumper, he flung himself at tne
plank framework and scrambled to the top.
called the scout.
The prince of the bowie could be rather sudden him-
self on occasion. Without wasting a moment he jumped
at Hollis; but the latter withdrew his foot over the edge

of the framework just as Pawnee Bill’s hands were about
to close on it.

Leaping erect, the. captain ran toward Chick- Chick and
Bear Paw.

“Catch him, Pawnee!”

“Don’t let him get away with the mounts!” roared

Buffalo Bill, striving his best to reach the vicinity of the

horses in time to be of some use in keeping*them out of
Hollis’ hands.

But neither the scout nor the bowie man would have
been able to prevent Hollis from getting into one of the
saddles and making off with one or both of the animals.

That remained for another, a queer, angular specimen
of humanity, clothed in buckskins and wearing a coon-
skin cap. The stranger had a villainous face and carried
He leaped into sight from behind a boulder in
the gap, sprang between the two 1 and. stood con-
fronting Hollis.

“Get out of my way, you red whelp!” screeched Hollis.

“Stand back, ’r I'll lay ye out fer keeps!” answered
the stranger.

 

 

 

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| ° floatin? down with the current.

two cimiroons butt in.
“You can always count on us to butt in, Four-jack,”

THE BUFFALO

“Don’t hit him!” called Buffalo Bull.
hold him !?

“He's er thief,’ snarled the man in buckskins, ‘an’ I
ain't handlin’ a thief with gloves, ye kin bet yer ha’r on
that,”

Hollis attempted to close with the man, ed the latter
lifted his club and brought it down with force on the
captain’s head. Hollis went down flat, “as i veough he had
been struck with an axe.

Buffalo Bill sprang angrily in front of the man in buck-
skins before he could repeat the blow.

“Why didn’t you do as I told you?” he demanded.
“This man is crazy, and you had no business clubbing
him.”

“He aimt crazy no) moren. | he,’
“He’s a thief, that’s what he is.
hoss not more’n three hours ago? I

“Who are you?” cut in the scout,
keenly:

Gra be him and

Didn’t he steal my

33

 

surveying the fellow

‘“Four-jack Bob, I'ma trapper an’ guide, an’ I live in
the ole cabin at Traders’ Ford.”

He ducked his head in the direction of the cabin. The
scout turned his eyes that way and saw a slatternly In-
dian woman in the door.”

“T see,” he returned, “you’re a squaw man, and that’s
why ‘you’re able to live here without trouble from the
hostile reds. You say this man stole your horse?”

The. scout pointed to Hollis, over whom Pawnee Bill.

was working in an attempt to bring him back to con-
sciousness.

“That’s what I said,’ growled Four-jack Bob. “Fire-

light yander, my squaw, seen the feller makin’ off with -

She called ter me, an’ I had ter chase him
The hoss knows my whistle, same’s a dorg, an’
Looket yar.”

the hoss,
on foot.
he'll come tér me the same way.

The trapper gave a peculiar whistle, and a scrubby-
looking horse came trotting down the gap.

“Thar he is,” said Four-jack Bob triumphantly ;
the hoss this feller stole. I chased him up river, along
the bank, an’ I set up a whistle fer Hank. Hank, which
is the hoss, he whirled right around an’ trotted to’rd me.
The feller On his back couldn’t make him do a thing.
I got on Hank an’ chased the feller, who’d drapped off’n
the hoss’ back. The feller went over the aidge of a blufty
bank a couple er miles upstream, an’, when 1 got ter
whar I could see, he was astraddle of a cottonwood
I’d left home in sich a
hurry I didn’t hev no gun, so I couldn’t do er thing ter
the thief. Bumby I seen Injuns acrost the river, an’ I
hollered ter them. They’re some 0’ aes wife’s folks, an’
they started follerin’ the thief down an’ shootin’ at him.

“T follered on my side o’ the bank, an’ then I seen you
Whyever did ye do it; huh?”

‘thar’s

 

scowled the other.

— The scout got into his saddle.

Le rn re te PSS Se So et to earl a Le rn ter Rn
¢ ie } pone * 7a

BILL STORIES. 17

returned the scout, “whenever we see a white man get-
ting the worst of it at the hands of the reds.”

“But this yar white is er thief. I Ss think no more
of a white thief than I do of a red un.’

“You're mistaken about this man.
from Fort Custer.”

GG Ob.

“Tt’s a fact. I don’t know how badly, you’ve hurt him,
but if it turns out that you’ve fractured his skull, you can
expect trouble from the soldiers.”

A worried expression crossed the ee face of
the squaw man. }

“T didn’t do no more’n I ort,’

“T told you not to strike him.”

“But I knowed ye didn’t understand. how he’d tried
ter steal my hoss. Ye say he’s a cap’ in the army. If
he is, what’s-he rigged up like that fer? An’ why was
he tryin’ ter steal my hoss? Army orficers don’t go
‘round stealin’ hosses.”’

There was no use going into the details of the affair
for Four-jack Bob’s benefit.

he declared.

“We can’t waste any more time hoe Pawnee,” said :

the scout. ‘“We’ve got. to get onto the Musselshell. Can’t —
you bring Hollis ’round ?” 2,
“Tooks like another Crooked Ben case,” answered

Pawnee Bill, ‘“That.crack on the head don’t seem to
have been at all serious, and yet Hollis is either uncon-

scious or else he’s shamming,”
“Hand him up to me,” said he. “Lend a hand here,
Four-jack.”
The squaw man assisted Pawnee Bill to’ lift up the

captain into the scout’s waiting hands. Barely was this

accomplished when a rush ‘of pony hoofs was heard up.

the bank.

“Injuns!” yelled the bowie man, vaulting into his sad-
dle; “the reds have come across fromthe other side,
necarnis !’’

The scout, surveying the bank.along the edge of the
bluffs, could see many red horsemen weaving out and in
among the trees, all headed in the direction of the old
ferry.

“Spurs and quirts!” called the scout, and darted away.

CHAPTER XT.
THE-OLD FERRYBOAT.

The pards found it impossible to get up through the
gap. At least twenty Sioux, some coming from up-
stream and’some from down, met pnd rode into the head
of the gap before Buffalo Bill and Pawnee Bill ae
get through it. \

‘We'll have to find a place and stand ‘em off, ne-

He’s Captain Hollis,

 
 

18 THE BUFFALO

carnis!” averred the bowie man. “Our road away from
the river is blocked.”

The scout looked at the cabin. It did not look as
though it could be turned into a secure fort.

His alert eye, leaping from point to poit, questioning
chance for a way that might lead to escape, dropped to
the farther end of the wharf.

There one ofthe bluffs pushed a bold shoulder out
into the stream, and a narrow bit of level bank led
around it,

“This way!” shouted Buffalo Bill.

Guiding Bear Paw merely by the pressure of his knees,
he rode at a gallop to the end of the wharf and around
the foot of the bluff.

Here he was almost knocked out of his saddle by the
surprising object that lay under his. eyes.

A little, semicircular cove had been hollowed out of
the bank by the action of the water, and in the centre
of the cove lay a flatboat. A couple of riatas, front and
rear, held the boat moored to the bank.

Leading from the bank, at one side, over the water and
to the gunwale of the boat, was a stout plank.

As for the rest of it, the semicircular cove offered
nothing in the way of a safe retreat. From overhead the
Indians could send down their bullets in a galling drop
fire.

“Out of the frying pan into the blaze,’ muttered
Pawnee Bill. “The only way we can dig out of here,
Pard Bill, is by swimming the river. Bear Paw could
never make it, loaded down with the two of you.”

“There’s a better way than that, Pawnee,” returned
the scout.

“What?”

‘Trail along.”

The scout turned Bear Paw toward the end of the
plank that bridged the gap between the shore and the
side of the flatboat. The big, black’ war horse hesitated
only a moment. After testing the plank with his front
feet, he crossed the insecure bridge slowly,
shivered, and the side of the flatboat surged up and down
under the horse’s weight. Bear Paw, however, carried
his double burden safely into the boat.

“Scoot-a-wah-boo !”’
edly.. “This thing lay here waiting for us,
river will carry us in the right direetion. Steady, Chick-
Chick!” he added to the buckskin; “you're not going to
let Bear Paw beat. you out at walking the plank, are
you?”

murmured Pawnee Bill delight-

The buckskin groped his way across and into the
boat. Buffalo Bill had already lowered Hollis to the
bottom of the boat and had dismounted. The horses were
secured to posts, so placed that they divided the burden
and kept the boat fairly trim.

The

Pawnee Bill cut one of the riatas. boat was

“the bowie man and a knock on the front knees.

' made to order.

The plank»

and the °

Bea STORIES.

caught in the eddying current and swung slowly around,
Just as the bowie man cut the other riata, a rifle spoke on
the top of the bluff and a bullet “smacked” into the old
ferryboat, a foot from where the prince of the powie
was standing.

Buffalo Bill grabbed his rifle and looked up. The next
moment he lowered the gun.

Four-jack Bob’ s squaw was doing the shooting. She
was the only one on the bluff. The gun was a muzzle-
loader, and she was frantically getting powder into the
barrel and tamping with the ramrod.

The boat, by then, had been freed of its mooring ropes
and was slipping clear of the cove and out into the river.
The Sioux were around the shoulder, waiting for what
was to happen, but afraid to force the issue by pushing
around into the cove. :

At sight of the moving boat they began to yell.

“Get the horses down, Pawnee!” cried the scout.
“lead will be flying here in half a minute.”

Bear Paw and Chick-Chick, trained to obey their
masters’ commands, lay down in the boat at a word from
This
posture put the horses under the protection of the. flat-
boat’s bulwarks.

Searcely had the animals been put into position when
a fusillade was hurled at the boat from the bank.

The bullets spatted into the water and chugged
against the boat’s planks, but absolutely no damage was
done. a

The pards, bobbing up from behind their breastwork,.

let drive a couple of shots into the ranks of their foes.

“On-she-ma-da!’’ chuckled Pawnee Bill. “This float-
ing fort couldn’t have served us better if it had been
I ‘suppose it belonged to the man who
used to rum the ferry?”

“No doubt,” said Buffalo Bill. “It looks old, and it
certainly is rotten in places, but if it holds together until
we reach the mouth of the Musselshell, 111 not have any
fault to find.” ee

“Four-jack Bob must have used the boat. ‘If he didn't,
why should he have had it in that cove, with the gang-
plank run out and everything ready to load?”

“Quite likely he had it ready for some purpose or
other. Four-jack Bob is a hard citizen, and it’s a cinch
that-he’s hand and glove with these hostiles.”’

The scout took a survey of the river and of the course

the flatboat was following. The boat was thrown toward.

the centre of the river and was moving downstream,
slowly turning end for end as it progressed.

Buffalo Bill, went to the side of Hollis. Four-jack’s
club had descended upon the side of his head. There
was an abrasion and a lump was forming, but the scout
could not discover anything very serious about the injury.

 

 

1

 

H

uy

in

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i iS ee

 

 

 

PA eA emt mete eA oa
EN aero

THE BUFFALO

“We've had more than our share of these trance
cases, necarnis,’ remarked Pawnee Bill. “I seem to be in
the pick-up business. First, it’s Crooked. Ben, and now
it’s Captain Hollis. And both of them are off the jump.”

“Hollis is coming to himself,’ returned the scout.
“Watch him.”

The captain’s eyes had flickered open. He stared for a
space into the scout’s face and then shifted his eyes to
the bowie man. After a moment he sat up in a startled
way, rubbed his forehead and listened to the swish of
water against the sides of the flatboat.

“Buffalo Bill,” he asked, “where am I?”

His voice was different and his manner was different.
His eyes, too, held a calm and steady light as they focused
upon the scout.

“Don’t you know what has happened to you, captaitt?”’
inquired’ the scout.

“T know that I ought to be in the cone at the
mouth of the Musselshell,’ answered the captain, “and
I know that I’m not there. The last thing I remember
was turning in with the notes of ‘taps’ ringing in my ears.
Was We last oe or some night last week, or last
year?

“It must have been last night, Hollis,” said the scout.

“You weren’t in the cantonment at the time, although
you were expected with Holcomb and the wagon train in

1 few days.”

“Holcomb’s train has had some trouble with the Sec
and Pawnee and I are going to the cantonment for reen-
forcements.”

“Where did you meet me?”

The scout explained about the floating tree, and how
Hollis had been taken from it. He also gave Four-jack’s
story to account for the manner in which Hollis had come
to get on the tree in the first place.

“And all this happened,’ murmured Hollis,
didn’t know a thing about it!”

“You haven’t been yourself, Hollis, for some time,”
said the scout kindly.

hand 1b

“T know that,” agreed the captain. “Even when I
was freed by the confession of Blix, I knew I was not as
I should be up here.” He touched his forehead. “There
was something wrong, and the more IT puzzled my brain
to study it out, the more wrong it became. 1 couldn’t
seem to get the hang of myself, somehow. Even when
I was at Fort Benton, and later at the cantonment, I knew
I was getting worse and worse. But now—now——”

He hesitated.

“What now?” urged the scout.

“Why,” proceeded Hollis, “I seem to have awakened

from a bad dream. I feel that I have gotten myself well
in hand. Do you notice any change in me for the better,

Buffalo Bill?”

Be Be terete Ps teh Sones be ma ih, dhe Abie BO tet ‘eddy Ss theta Scheme ee ren em Meh SE NVR aie aS

—
ARTE EI tot ene at acy te ptf me Aah AO Tn ier I Ye rh

 

 

BILia STORIES.

19
aE should say so!” said the scout heartily. “Don’t you,
Pawnee?” ‘
~“T do,” averred the prince of the bowie. “You're as
sane as anybody now, captain.”
“How did it happen?” ye
“It must have been that blow. on the head,’ answered

the scout. “I’ve heard of such things. The blow hap-
pened to fall in exactly the right place to settle the par-
ticular brain disturbance under which you were suf-
fering.” .

“Tt may-be, it may be,” mused Hollis, “I can remem-
ber, months ago, when I used to roam the country in this
tramp disguise ; and I can remember that I brought the
disguise with me when I went to Benton. I haven’t the
least. idea why I did that. Something urged me, and I
could not hang back. Last night, the last thing I remem-
ber was hearing ‘taps.’ Since then everything has been
a blank, and

“Hello, there!
serene?”

It was a hail, and it came from the right-hand bank.

 

Where you fellers sailin’, so ca’m an’

The pards leaped to their feet and strained their eyes.

on the man who had spoken. He was in army uniform
and had the stripes of a sergeant on his sleeve. His arm
was thrust.through his looped bridle réins and his horse
was standing at his back,

“We're bound for the cdntonment on she Musselshell !’’
called the scout.

“That’s pen miles from here by crow, an’ more’n
forty, by gosh,” called back the sergeant. “I’m part of a
force o’ twenty-five from the cantonment that’s hunting
fer Cap’n Hollis, Seen, anythin’ of ——”

“Where is the rest of the detachment?” interrupted
the scout.

“Back from the river a\ways,’ was the response. _

‘“Here’s luck, Pawnee!” exclaimed Buffalo Bill. “We
can get ashore and take this detachment to the relief of
Holeamihe? ,

“Qin-she-ma-da!” cried the bowie man; “you're right,
its luck.”

Pawnee Bill flung the end of a fata into the hanes
of the sergenat and he snubbed onto a tree and made
fast. The current carried the boat around and laid it
up as near the bank as the shallow water would permit.

The gangplank was put over, and the pards and Hollis
went ashore, leading a two horses.

f

CHAPTER XIE : é
REENFORCEMENTS FOR HOLCOMB.

>?

» “Why, it’s Buffalo Bill an’ Pawnee!” exclaimed the
sergeant. “An’) who's that with you?” he cae turn-
ing upon Hollis. ,

Pa Rag tar ret tear sent aty eaten a

 

 
Po SR, We ROR TEEPE |

ae Porene
x Sb ses reo ee =

20 THE BUFFALO

“Don't you know me, Anthony?” inquired the captain.

“My soul!” muttered the astounded Anthony, starting
back.

The next instant he recovered himself, straightened to
his full height and brought his hand to a salute.

“Sir,” said he, “we’ve been huntin’ you all around the
cantonment since you was found to be missin’ this
mornin’.”

“Was the major much alarmed?”

“He’s on the hunt himself, sir. He can’t imagine—no
one could imagine—what become of you,.captain. Your
clothes were found in your tent, down even to your shoes.
We reckoned you must have got away in the bluff alto-
- gether-——”

“What did the major think?’

The sergeant shifted his glances to the scout and Une
bowie man and hesitated.

“Out with it, Anthony,” said Hollis sharply.

“Well, the major, sir, thought you was a little bug-
house.”

“The major was right,” returned Hollis calmly. “I
was. Who’s in charge of this detachment, sergeant?”

“Leftenant Halpin, sir.”

“There are twenty-five troopers, you say?”

MES. SIT.”

“Well, now that I’m found, the detachment’ean ride
with Buffalo Bill and Pawnee Bill. Holcomb’s train has
been jumped by the Sioux, and the scout and the bowie
man have come for help. When did you leave the camp,
Buffalo Bill?’ Hollis asked.

“Ten o’clock last night,” the scout answered.

“There’s got to be some hustling, sergeant,” went on
the captain to Anthony. “Let’s get to the detachment
as soon as we can.”

“You can ride my horse, sir,” said Anthony, “an’ I'll
. walk or ride behind.”

- “You ride behind, sergeant.”

‘Hollis got astride the horse and the sergeant climbed
‘up behind him. The pards were already mounted, Head-
ing away from the river, the horses were put to a gallop.

Before the little party had traveled far, the notes of
a bugle came to their ears.

“That’s a call to round up, cap’n,” said Anthony. “Hal-
pin wants the pony soldiers to get together.”

The horses were pointed in the direction of the place
from which the notes of the bugle had come. Other
troopers were seen shacking toward the same point from
different quarters.

Nearly all the detachment id come together when
the pards, the Sergeant, and Hollis rode into the group.

“Cody, by gum!” cried Halpin. “And Pawnee Bill!

Say, where’d you shave tails drop from? And who’s this
ragamuffin who seems to be bringing in the sergeant?
He planter

   

    

 

BILL STORIES.

    

The lieutenant, suddenly recognizing Hollis, stiffened

in his saddle and brought ae hand to a salute. |
“Beg your pardon, sir,” said he, “I didn’t recognize
you at first glance.”

“I don’t blame you for not senognizing me,’ ’ said Hollis.
“T must be a sight in these rags.’

“We've been looking for you, captain.
feeling?”

“Tm feeling better than I have for months,” declared
the an heartily. “I have been clubbed back to rea-
son,’ and he smiled and laid a.hand tenderly on the lump
that was swelling on the side of his head.

The lieutenant ran his fingers through his hair per-
plexedly and studied the faces of the scout and his pard.

“What Captain Hollis says is correct, lieutenant,’ said
Buffalo Bill. “Pawnee and I were making for the canton-
ment after reénforcements. Holcomb’s train has been
jumped by a hundred Sioux. They’ve got him rounded
up so he can’t move or graze his stock. He’s got chuck,
and plenty of ammunition, and is handy to water. He
believes he can hold out till next snow, but he’s got to
have help before he can move.’

Halpin looked at Hollis.

“It’s your cue to go at once with Buffalo Bill and
Pawnee Bill, Halpin,” said the captain. “I can’t go with
you, for I’m bruised and sore and feel generally as
though I had been drawn through a knot hole. Let one
of your men go back with me to the cantonment. We
can ride double, and I'll tell the major what you’ve done.”

“Very well, sir,” said Halpin.

He called out one of the troopers and placed Hollis
in his care, then the bugle sounded “forward,’ and the
troopers clattered along after the lieutenant and the pards.

“The major was badly worried on account of Hollis,
Buffalo Bill,’ observed Halpin as they rode.

“So the sergeant was saying,” the scout answered.

 

How are you

‘When Hollis came to the cantonment the major was
privately notified to look out for him.’ Everybody knows
Hollis’ history and sympathizes with him; and the major
had Hollis watched all day while on duty. The major
was lame in not having the captainn watched at night, too.
But tell me what happened to Hollis, Buffalo Bill?”

The scout reported, events to the lieutenant.

“Do you really think,” asked Halpin, “that the captain
is himself again?” ;
, asserted the scout.
“So am I,” seconded Pawnee Bill.

“Vm willing to bank on it

“Tt’s a queer way for a man to recover his wits.”

“T’ve heard of it happening before, Halpin.”

“Tt sounds kind of fishy to me,” remarked the lieu-
tenant; “but there’s a whole lot of things going on in this
little old world that I don’t know. I’m glad for Hollis
if he’s all right again. Now tell me something about
Holcomb and where the Sioux are holding him.”

39

 

 
 

 

 

 

soap aontektuheaben bsseweeanaatas eee oa eae a TEE Se

THE BUFFALO

“It’s twenty-five or thirty miles beyond Traders’
Ford,” said the scout.

‘We ought to get there, then, by sundown,”

“Do you know anything about this Four-jack Bob?”
asked the scout.

“Tye heard a rumor about him,”
“but you know how difficult it is to bank on a rumor.”

“What's the rumor?”

“Tt runs back to the time Rain-in-the-face was con-
fined at Fort Lincoln.”

“Well ?”?

“You.know how Rain-in-the-face came to be there,
[ suppose, and

 

“T know that, lieutenant.”

“Well, two grain thieves were put in the guardhcuse
with Rain-in-the-face. They escaped, and they helped
the Uncpapa to escape.’

“What. of 1?

“This Four-jack Bob, rumor has it, was one of the two
grain thieves, ’

The scout was amazed that a story similar to the one
he had heard from Holcomb should reach him through
Halpin.

3?

“Tt is only a rumor,
idle tale.”

said the scout, “and it may be an

“Well, I’ve heard men in the cantonment swear by all
that’s good that Four-jack Bob was one of the grain
thieves. There was another one—a yellow-haired tin-
horn—but I haven’t heard much about him. His name
was Dan Lenefee,”’

This talk of Halpin’s certainly afforded the scout
plenty of food for thought, If the captain was right, and
if Halpin was right, then those two grain thieves, who
had curried favor with the Sioux by helping Rain-in-the-
face to escape from Fort Lincoln, were in the Indian
country and doing their best to goad the Sioux ¢ on to take
the war trdil.

Four-pack Bob was a squaw man. Thus he was secure
in the protection which his wife’s tribe could throw
around him. His position gave him considerable in-
fluence,

It was reasonable to suppose that these two, Dan
Lenefee and Four-jack Bob, who had been cast together
in Fort Lincoln by the web of fate, should still continue
to hang together.

Early in the afternoon the lieutenant deemed it eu
to call a halt, rest and graze the horses, give the men
a brief respite, and let them make a meal off their ra-
tiens,

“The reds will run when they see us coming,
Halpin as he and the scout and his pards sat over their
pipes after they had finished their meal.

“There is a yellow-haired renegade who leads the

gaa

Ae pe det) i. ge a yn pathy agi A

said the lieutenant,.,

 

BILL STORIES. 21
Sioux,” remarked the scout, keeping covert watch of
Halpin’s face.

“A yellow-haired renegade,” repeated the lieutenant.
“You mean a white man, Cody?”

Nes.

“White man—yellow-haired!” Halpin lifted his eyes
suddenly to the scout’s. “There’s no coincidence about
this, Buffalo Bill,” he remarked. . “That yellow-haired
scoundrel is the other grain thief.” ee

“That is what Holcomb thought.”

‘Then Holcomb has got the right end of it. Our busi-
ness is to capture the yellow-haired plug-ugly. Between
him and Four-jack Bob, the Sioux are kept stirred up all 7
the time.” ‘

“Why doesn’t the major run in Four-jack Bob if he’s
a disturber?” asked the scout.

“The major doesn’t dare to. It would kick up more
trouble than the major could handle.”

Half an hour later the detachment was again on the
way and covering the ground swiftly.

CHAPTER XIT.
A SORTIE.

There was little rest for Wild Bill, old Nomad, or
Little Cayuse among the corralled wagons of the train
that night.

Buffalo Bill and Pawnee Bill had slept two or three
hours in order to fit themselves for the desperate work _
that lay ahead of them, but their pards had not closed’
an eye in slumber.

Holcomb, although he got no sleep himself, was careful
to send the escort to rest by detachments. All the escort,
as well as the teamsters, got a tolerable amount of rest,
and yet the rest periods were so divided that there was
never a time when the defenders of the wagon fort were
not ready to meet their savage foes at any point,

“Them pizen whelps hev got ther best 0’ us, Hickok,”
growled old Nomad.

“In what way?” asked the Laramie man.

“Why, thar’s so many of ’em thet they kin let fifty of
‘em rest while fifty of ’em keeps peckin’ away at ther
wagons. Then, when mornin’ comes, thar’ll be fifty fresh
ones ter keep up ther naggin’. I reckon them varmints
kin tire us out.”

“They won’t haye time enough to tire us out, Nick.
Pard Cody and Pard Pawnee will be back here with a
lot of men from the cantonment before Masta. Shella
could work through a game of that sort.”

“T reckon they will. Them two pards make er hull
team an’ somethin’ ter spare. They'll show the Sioux
their heels; or, ef chance favors, they’ll show ‘em their
teeth.” \

   

 

 
===

aan

 

 

: THE BUFFALO

All the rest of the night the bullets plunked against
the wagons or “ye-e-e-e-iped” through the air.

When morning came it was discovered that the Indians
had been at work, during the: night, throwing up rifle
pits of their own. These.extended in a semicircle around
the side of the wagons farthest from the river.

Between the river and the wagons the captain had taken
especial pains to keep clear ground. The* water was
needed for the camp.

While the cook was getting breakfast ready, a white
rag at the end of a stick was shoved up from behind one
of the intrenchments.

“There goes a flag of truce,’
gray and haggard from the night of anxiety.
mean it, captain, or is it a ruse of some kind?”

“We'll find out what they mean, lieutenant,” answered
Holcomb.

He lifted his voice.

“If you want to palaver,”

“Do they

he shouted in stentorian

- tones, “stop the enconne from the rest of thoes rifle pits

while it is going on,’

An order was called from behind the pits in the vicin-
ity of the flag. As it ran around among the unseen marks-
men, the fire slackened and finally died out altogether.

“Show yourself,” cried Holcomb. “We'll respect the
flag of truce.”

The yellow-haired man lifted himself out of the rifle
pit.. Holcomb gazed at him intently.

“Will you surrender ?”’ the renegade demanded,

“No,” answered Holcomb.

“The narve o’ him!” grunted old Nomad.
ther surrenderin’ kind.”

“We ain't

“If you'll surrender,” went on the man, “we'll spare
your lives and let yotygo back to Benton, or on to the
cantonment, wherever you want to go.”

“We'll not surrender, and that settles it,” flung back
Holcomb. “Is that all you want to know?” :

“If you’re expecting reénforcements,” said the :rene-
gade, “you'll be disappointed. Buffalo Bill and Pawnee
Bill were sent over the Divide at Traders’ Ford.”

“Ye’re another!’ yelled old Nomad, in a spasm of
fury. “The red ain’t never been born thet could put
either Buffler er Pawnee out 0’ the way.”

“I know what I’m talking about,” went on the. rene-
gade. “You'll not get any reénforcements, and we'll have
your scalps and all the plunder. You can save your
scalps if you want to.”

“You'll be in a fret to save yours before you’re done.
with this little bag of tricks,” put in Wild Bill.

“Then you refuse} a

“Of course we retuse, Masta Shella, otherwise Dan
Lenetee,”’ :

“You've got it wrong,” said the renegade sarcastically.

“No, I haven’t,” went on Holcomb, with a harsh laugh.

o , %
Ft i ei og SS a A ih Alt ae ath ae a cab a ce A x a Ha
Nth ciel De WU eh op i a ale Acca Wee Se Ce doch sea oeea i aI Nd MARES LIER ae VEER

said Hobson, his face~

 

 

San casei ces ene eee eee

BILL STORIES.

“I remember you, Dan Lenefee. I was on duty at Lin-
coln when Rain-in-the-face was shut up there.”

“Then, if you won’t surrender,” was the angry shout,
“you'll have to take your medicine.”

“T’m next to your game, all right, my yellow-haired
tinhorn,” continued the captain. “Buffalo Bill and Paw-
nee Bill got out of your trap at Traders’ Ford, and they
have gone through to the cantonment. Reéenforcements
will be here, and, if you can’t make us sufrender, the
plunder ofthis wagon train won’t come your way.”

Masta Shella sank down out of sight, and the sniping
began again. *

“He'll do something now,” said Hobson. “He’s got to.
You called the turn when you said that about Buffalo
Bill and Pawnee Bill. There’s not the least doubt but
that they have got through and that reénforcements will
be coming before long. Masta Shella is trying to run in

a bluff—if he can’t make us surrender he'll never get us.’

“But he'll try. hard,” added Wild Bill.

’ Breakfast was ready and was eaten in detachments.
Hot coffee, biscuits, bacon, and potatoes put new life
into the men. All hands felt refreshed as they drifted
backfto their places at the edge of the circle of wagons.

Masta Shella began trying to do something without
loss of time.

A hot fire began from the Sioux trenches.
swered briskly from the wagons.

“Don’t let.’em fool you, cap,” said Wild Bill. “That
shooting out in front is to draw our attention from some
other place.” :

“Td already made up my mind to that,” returned Hol-
comb. “All the teamsters are armed and every part of
our circle of wagons is guarded. The "

There was a pat of ponies’ hoofs somewhere between
the wagons and the river. It came suddenly, and Hol-
comb, Hobson, Wild Bill, and Little Cayuse ran to the
other side of the wagon corral.

What they saw would have sent panic intagless coura-
geous men. A force of the enemy was making a charge
from the river side, evidently with the intention of forcing
a passage through the wagons and laying the ep at
its mercy.

There were at least thirty painted savages in the attack-

)

It was an-

 

ing force, and they were led by Masta Shella.

A. withering fire was concentrated upon them. The
ardor of their charge slackened. Masta Shella rose in
his stirrups, swung-his arms, and yelled furiously.

Whatever he said must have had its eftect, for the
red men again started forward.

Wild Bill tried a shot-at Masta ‘Shella. It was not
often that he had to try a second time for any one target,
but it was so in this case. His first bullet went wild.
Then, to his ee astonishment, his second bullet also
missed.

“By gorry,” he ta ced, “T wonder if that game arm

NS I Rly IR ho le
MMA Cay iene teins a Aer

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

SL ne Omen RN aaa ee

THE BUFFALO.

of mine is interfering with my nerves? I never missed
twice in succession before.”

The Laramie man had not a chance for another shot.
The deadly fire from the wagons caused the redskins to
swerve and to ride off, carrying their wounded.

But Masta Shella did not retreat. He saw his chances
for capturing the wagon train going with the backward
rush of his red followers, and an unreasoning fury took
possession Of him. He held his ground. He even turned
his back on the wagons; and he flung his arms and be-
rated his followers and tried to shame them in returning
to the attack.

Just there and then something happened... Old Nomad,
the. iron-nerved trapper pard of the scout’s, took it into
his head to make a lone-handed sortie.

Through the smoke and dust of the skirmish Nomad
could be seen spurring rapidly toward Masta Shella.
Hide-rack was under the trapper, and both horse and man
seemed sternly determined.

“By gorry!’? gasped Wild Bill, “will you look at that,
now? Nick, my pard Nick, has gone out after Masta
Shella !” "

“That’s one of the most reckless things I ever saw,”
declared Holcomb.

“But our men understand,” spoke up Hobson.
“They're doing no shooting from this side of the wagons.”

“The reds are shooting, though,” muttered Wild Bill.

“Listen to the gun fire! They see Nick, even if Masta
Shella don’t.”

Taking no heed of the lead which screamed all around
him, old Nomad rode straight for the gesticulating form
of the renegade. Owing to the noise of the firing, Masta
Shella could not hear him approach.

Sioux warriors appeared from among the trees, and

waved and beckoned in order to apprise their white leader

of his danger, but Masta Shella failed to understand.

Nomad carried no weapons. All he had in his hands
was a tiata, When he had come close enough, he hurled
the noose of the rope, and it settled down over the shoul-
ders of the white renegade.

By swift work with his hands, the trapper brought the
noose up taut, pinioning Masta Shella’s arms to his sides;
then, taking a half hitch around his saddle horn, he
whirled Hide-rack on his hind toes and spurred for the
camp.

Masta Shella, as astounded a renegade as ever br eathed,
was dragged out of his saddle and fell heavily to the
ground. Then, as Nomad rode for the wagons, the ground
began slipping out from under the roped man.

Indians ran forward, knives in their hands, to sever the
rope... At that moment Little Cayuse, on his pinto, hove
into sight.

Wherever an Indian appeared Cayuse rode him down.
With the pinto pony dancing back and forth across the

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DP NN as Re Se tates SA thy pee ab a

 

BILL STORIES. | ees

taut rope, old Nomad finally regained the wagon in-
closure with his prisoner, and closely followed by the
‘Piute. From every part of the camp went up a roar of
cheers.

It was a piece of work hich could not have succeeded
more than once in a dozen times.

But luck was on the side of the old trapper that day—
luck, which always waits upon courage and determination.

CHAPTER XIV,

DES Pw RAD Bein N Woe Ss 4

Wild Bill was first to grab the trapper’s hand as he
slipped from his horse. Soldiers had already grabbed
Masta Shella, and were disarming him and getting cords
on his hands and feet.

“Pard of my soul!’ cried the delighted Laramie man,
“that was the finest thing I have ever seen you do!”

“Waugh,” muttered the old trapper diffidently. “TI was
thet het up, Pard Hickok, I had ter do somethin’ rash
er blow up. Et was a good chance, anyways. Did ye
ever see sich a chance fer puttin’ ther kibosh on a rene-
gade? He give et ter me hisself.”

“And you, too, Cayuse,” went on the Laramie man, -
ne to shake ee with Cayuse. “You helped, boy,
and you're a warrior.’

Cayuse made no FeAponse, but his eyes glimmered with
satisfaction.

Holcomb also sees titaead both Nomad and Cayuse ;
and Hobson, and the infantrymen, and the teamsters were
not satisfied until they had applauded the brave act of the
old trapper and the little Piute.

Not much time could be spared by the men, and Me
returned immediately to their posts.

The Sioux seemed to be astounded by the audacity of
the sortie from the wagons and by its success. For an
hour or more all was quiet in the Indian trenches and
among the rest of the redskins, wherever they were keep-
ing themselves. | :

“They’ve had a jolt,” chuckled Wild Bill.
them a little time to get over it.”’

“What do you think will happen now ts Hol-
comb. ;
“One of two things, cap: Either the reds will have the
heart taken plumb out of them by the loss of their
white leader, or else they'll use all their force and try to
capture the wagons and get Masta Shella back.”

“Tt looks, about now, as though they had lost heart.”

“So it does, but you never can tell. ‘hey may be plan-
ning deviltry insteady of figuring on making a quick get-
away. Let’s havea look at this Masta Shella.”

The captain and the Laramie man wert to the place,

“It’s taking

 

 
  

24 THE BUFFALO

in the ceritre of the camp, where a force of teamsters,
with Hobson in charge, was guarding the renegade.

He was a very mad renegade, and he struggled like a
demon with his bonds and spit out angry words.

“This ain’t the end!” he yelled. “The reds will come
in here and smother the life out o’ you. There’s enough
of ’em to do it.) You wait!”

“Cool down. a little,’ said Holcomb. “That kind of talk
don’t help your case any.”

Raising his voice, Masta Shella shouted at the top of
his lungs. It was the Sioux tongue he used, and it was
an order for the Sioux to rush in among the wagons and
kill and burn.

“That’s foolish, Masta Shella,” said Holcomb. “Now,
listen to this.”

He also lifted his voice so that it might carry to the
Sioux.

‘it the Sioux aitack these wagons again they will be
beaten off ; and not only will they be beaten off, but Masta
Shella will be killed. Do the Sioux yen the ir isaeee
leader killed? Then-let them come on.”

“That calls his bluff, cap,” remarked Wild Bill.

“Never mind me!” bawled the prisoner. “Come on,
Sioux brothers! Show these yellow eyes that you are
not squaws, but warriors.”

That settled the talking back and forth between the
wagons and the lurking redskins. Nothing happened—at
least, not immediately. _ .

“Vou are Dan Lenefee, eh?’ went on Holcomb.

“No,” scowled Masta Shella, “you got that wrong. I
told you so once before.” :

“T am not mistaken. You have a hold on the In-
dians——”’

“T got my hold ferouge | Blix. Blix was my pard, and
I’m collecting toll for what Buffalo Bill and his pards,
and you pony soldiers at Custer, did to him.”

“How much toll have you got so far?”
Bill.

ls. is what Fd like ter know,’

Nomad. .
Masta Shella turned his fison eyes on the trapper.

inquired Wild

chimed in old

“You'll have a debt to pay to those reds,’ he growled,
“even if I can’t collect that debt myself, But I’m not
down and out yet, blast you! You'll hear from me again.”

“So ye put. Buffler Bill an’ Pawnee Bill on ther one-
way trail at Traders” Ford, huh?” ieetee Nomad. “TI got
er pictur’ o’ ye doin’ thet.”

“I’ve got reds at Traders’ Ford,* affSwered Masta.

Shella, writhing under the gibes of the pards; “and
there’s a man with them who knows how to lead them.
Buffalo Bill and Pawnee Bill could not possibly get away
from them.”

"Youre: not acquainted with Buffalo Bill and Pawnee
Bill,” laughed Wild Bill huskily.

“They can give your

 

m,

Bill STORIES.

reds at Traders’ Ford cards, spades, and little casino, and
then beat ’em out. They got through your lines here,
didn’t they?”

Masta Shella was silent. It was an easy inference that

the scout and the bowie man had got through the red
ranks that hemmed in the wagons. :

“Trying to play prophet is poor business,” remarked
Holcomb. “You should have left the Sioux alone, Masta
Shella, sa have you to thank for a loss of several
warriors.’

“They Il get these wagons,” declared Masta Shella, “and
all the stuff you’ve got in them. ‘Then the whole Sioux
Nation will rise.” is

_‘Don’t ye b’leeve et,” snorted old Nomad.

“Did I kill that humpbacked. coyote?’ asked Masta
Shella.

“Hardly,” grinned Wild Bill,

“T ought to have done it at his hole in the rocks.”

“That would have been the surest way, Masta Shella,
if you had it in mind.”
~ “Broken Arrow was with me and he wouldn’t listen to
it. It’s bad medicine to kill a prophet.”

Just at that juncture the firing began again.
it began all around the camp.

Holcomb, Wild Bill, old Nomad, and Cayuse rushed to
the defenses and looked out.

The Sioux, it was apparent, were gathering all their
strength for a final rush, in the hope of capturing the
wagons and their white defenders.

This time

From ail sides of a swiftly contracting circle the red
men came on, firing’as they rushed,

“Now we're going to-have it hand to hand,” muttered
Captain Holcomb grimly.

“Tt don’t make no diff’rence how we hev et,’ returned
the trapper; “‘jest so long as we give ’em er lot more’n
they give us.”

It seemed like a hopeless job to overcome the force

that was rushing toward the wagons. Although the ranks —

of the warriors must have been sadly depleted in the
former clashes, there remained more than enough of
them, in all truth.

In less than a minute from the time the advance began,
the warriors were at handgrips with the men around the ©
wagons. Knives, clubbed revolvers, and fists were used

—anything and everything that would serve to damage an
enemy at close infighting.

The hubbub was tremendous. In the midst of it there
came a piercing cry.

The cry quavered out, and was finally broken into some
words of Sioux.

“My red brothers, Masta Shella is a white dog! Hea is
not worthy the confidence of the Sioux braves!’

These words, repeated again and again, finally came to
the attention of most of the redskins,

   

 

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Mounted on a wagon wheel, facing the spot where the
battle was hottest, stood Crooked Ben.

There was no mistaking that form. The savages who
saw it at once recognized the white medicine man—the
one who, as they believed, had told them to make war
and to follow in all things the counsel of Masta Shella.

“Let there be peace!” shrieked Crooked Ben,
back into the hills, Sioux brothers!
listen to me!”

“Draw
Come where you can

Slowly the meaning of the words, constantly repeated,
was realized by the Sioux warriors. Those in the imme-
diate vicinity of the hunchback were first to disentangle
themselves from the fray and to retire to the rifle pits;
then, little by little, the savages broke away, and finally
there was a rush for the pits, and the braves crowded
into them.

Crooked Bem jumped down from the wheel and started
toward the pits, swinging his long, apelike arms, He
was a weird figure, and no doubt ad a tremendous
sensation among the hostiles

“Listen to me, my red brothers!” called the hunchback,
stopping midway between the wagons and the rifle pits
“listen to the white medicine man! Yellow Horse and
some of his Sioux went to Lone Tree Hill three sleeps
ago. They went to talk with the Crooked One, and they
thought they were talking with the Crooked One. But
it was Masta Shella who talked, for Masta Shella and
Broken Arrow were in the Crooked One’s cave, and they
had the Crooked One bound and gagged so he could
not move or speak, and they advised the Sioux brothers
to make war.
white leader and Broken Arrow wanted war. So they
advised the Sioux brothers, and there has been war. (Co
home to the Pah-sap-pah. This is what I tell you. This
is what I should have told you at Lone Tree Hill if Masta
Shella and Broken Arrow*had let me. Go your ways.
You have had a bitter lesson. Go your ways and let there
be peace.”

°
’

Slowly Crooked Ben returned toward the wagons.
There was silence amofig the wagons and silence among
the Sioux trenches.

Then there was a wild hubbub. A redskin tried to
escape over the top of a trench, but he fell under another
redskin’s weapon.

“There!” exclaimed Crooked Ben, “that is the end of
Broken Arrow. We have won the day, my friends. The
power of Masta Shella is a thing of the past.”

Whether this was true or not, the defenders of the
wagons had no means of knowing.

Before events could proceed farther, the blare of a
bugle sounded in the east.

The Indians began to tumble over themselves to get out
of the trenches and to reach their ponies.

“The men from the Musselshell!’ went up the cry,

THE BUFFALO

I would have’ counseled peace, but the

 

   

BILL STORIES, 25
and the defenders of the wagons knew that their troubles
were at an end.

CHAPTER XV,
THE MEN FROM THE MUSSELSHELL.

In that critical moment, when the capture of the In-
dians seemed almost a foregone conclusion, there were
those in the red ranks who were clever enough to think
of ways and means when others were panic-stricken.

Little wisps of fire began to shoot up all over the
cleared slope to the river bank.

Fanned by the wind, the little flames rushed into a
big conflagration, and a pall of smoke foiled over the
scene of the recent skirmish.

This was what the tedskins wanted, of course. If they
could be hidden from the keen eyes of the pony soldiers
they would have time to secure their ponies and to get
away. a

Holcomb was concerned on account of the wagons.
Some of them contained ammunition.

“Here, you teamsters!” he shouted, “get mules hitched
to every wagon that contains powder and haul it down
to the river. Hobson!”

“Here, sit,” answered the lieutenant, who seemed to.
be everywhere that he was needed,

‘See if you can backfire and keep the flames away from
the wagons. There’s nothing to fear*from the Sioux now,

so take every available man.”

CAL right, sir- .

Hobson leaped away into the choking pall of vapor.
Amid the vapor men were moving like specters, hastily
inspanning and getting ready to trek for the river with
the powder wagons.

Outside, nearer the fire, Hobson and his force were
backfiring. A dead mule was being dragged over the
grass in front of the blazes started by the red men. This
had its effect, and the fire reached the blackened circle
made by the lieutenant and his men, and the blood-wet
grass over which the poor mule had been dragged, and
there sputtered out and died into wisps of smoke. .

Meantime, too, there had been a fierce thudding of cav-
alry hoofs and loud cavalry yells. The men from the Mus-
selshell were busy, or as busy as they could be, hunting
for wily foes in a choking, blinding fog of smoke.

“Hold those wagons!” shouted Holcomb, his alert fac-

ulties following every development of the situation.
“They're safe. The fires have died out.”

Slowly the atmosphere cleared. As the smoke fog
lifted, only dead ponies could be seen littering the slope.
The Sioux had vanished, taking their injured with them,

_and the cavalry that had been brought to the rescue had

also disappeared.
“Whar ther blazes is Buffler?” growled the old trapper. -

   
 

 

   

26 THE BUFFALO

“He's hunting reds,” answered Wild Bill. “We've had
our share of it, Nick, so I reckon we might as well stay
here.’

“Them troopers won’t hev much of er show gittin’ any
o the reds, Pard Hickok. Thet smoke give ‘em er chanst
ter sneak away without bein’ seen; an’ I'll bet ev'ry pizen
whelp of ’em hes lit out.”

“That is as it should be,” chimed in the grave voice of
-Holcomb. “The Sioux never wanted to stick up this
wagon train, and they only tried to do it because they
were led to believe that the white medicine man had ad-
vised them. The hostiles want peace, and they never
wanted it more than they do this minute, That talk
Crooked Ben gave them just about filled the bill.”

“Ben showed ‘em whar Masta Shella an’ Broken Arrer
got off, anyways,’ said Nomad.

“At the last, all the bucks turned against Broken Ar-
row,” went on Holcomb. “That proves conclusively, I
think, that they want peace.”

“They took revenge on Broken Arrow for getting them
into such a mess,” remarked Wild Bill; “and if they had
had a chance at this Masta Shella they’d have treated him
the same way.”

“Whoop-ya!” boomed the old trapper. “Thar’s Pard
Buffler now. See him ridin’ this way? Pawnee’s with
him. I don’t reckon this looks like they’d got their whack

at Traders’ Ford!”

The pards came across the blackened stretch of ground
at an easy lope, stirrup to stirrup. Wild Bill, old Nomad,
and Little Cayuse rushed forth to meet them.

“Howdy, pars ! bellowed the canes
so ther sight o’ ye ain't good fer sore eyes!’

“We've all got sore eyes, old Diamond,” laughed the
bowie man. “This confounded smoke is what did it.”

“How’s everything among the wagons, pards?” asked
the scout, leaning down to give his pards a handshake.

“A Heap better’n they might hev been,” answered
Nomad, “Whar’s them fellers from the Musselshell ?”

“They’re chasing after the reds in the hope of bagging
the white renegade who leads them.”

“By gorry!” exclaimed Wild Bill,
lot of trouble for nothing, then.”

“How sor’

“Why, we've got Masta Shella a prisoner among the
wagons.”

“Masta Shella?’

“That’s the white renegade. The Indians call him
Masta Shella. But you're behind in the news, pards.

You'll have to have a talk with Crooked Ben.”

79

“They're taking a

“He’s recovered, has he?”

“Shore he’s recovered,” answered old Nomad. “He re-
covered erbout two minits arter you an’ Pawnee hiked out
o’ camp last night, Buffler.”

“And you've captured the renegade leader!” exclaimed
the scout. “That’s the best news of all. Who did it?’

    

ay mebbe- *

 

  

BILE STORIES.

“Nomad,” said Wild Bill, and proceeded to describe the
manner of the trapper’s sortie and its success.
“On-she-ma-da!” cried Pawnee Bill, reaching over to

slap Nomad on the shoulder. “That was a fine piece of
work, old Diamond, but just what I’d expect you to do
in a pinch.”

“Waal,” grinned the trapper, “et was somethin’ of er
pinch hyar fer er spell. But come in—come in among
ther wagons an’ hev er tork with Crooked Ben.”

They pushed into the centre of the wagon corral, and
were met and welcomed by Holcomb:

“You got through, Cody,” said the captain; “but I knew
you would when you started out.’

“We were delayed a little on the way, Holcomb, by
meeting an old friend.”

“Who was that?’

“Captain Hollis.”

“Hollis! Where was he?”

“We found him sailing down the Missouri on a dead
cottonwood, with reds across the river trying to hit him
with their bullets. He was wearing his tramp disguise.”

Holcomb, amazed at what he heard, leaned against one
of the wagons. :

“Then,” said he, “I suppose poor Hollis is gone clean
daffy.”

“He had gone daffy, for he didn’t know anything about
where he was, or where he had been since the evening
before, in the cantonment. He woke up after he had been
hit on the head with a club by a squaw man who lives in
the old cabin by the Traders’ Ford.”

“Tell me about that!” begged Holcomb, who had a deep
and abiding interest in Hollis and his affairs.

The scout narrated the events while some of the team-
sters stripped his horse and Pawnee Bill’s of their gear
and began rubbing them down.

A little knot of interested listeners collected around the
returning pards as the story of Hollis was told.

“And Hollis is perfectly sane now?” asked the won-
dering Holcomb. a 3

“Perfectly.” :

“Tt sounds like a miracle!’

“And yet it isn’t.
comb. This isn’t the first time a blow on the head has
caused a’man to recover his reason,” _

“T believe, come to think of it, that I have heard of
such cases myself. But here it comes right to our own
door, and the wonder grows.’

“Buffalo Bill!”

The shrill voice sounded at the scout’s elbow, and he
turned to grasp the hand of Crooked Ben.

‘Hello, Ben!” he called genially. “How’s your head; a

“The hurt was nes Buffalo Bill, although it Ce
have been a lot worse.’

It’s just a plain, everyday fact, Hol- :

 
THE BUFFALO

“Vou're right about that, Ben,” returned Pawnee Bill.
“A hair’s breadth to the right and that bullet would have
sent you to the happy hunting grounds,”

“When my time comes to go,’ said Crooked Ben, “I
shall go without any regrets; but I did not want to take
the one-way trail with that Sioux bullet for a starter.”

“Tt wasn’t a Sioux bullet Sit was Masta Shella’s bullet.”

“So much the worse. I do not want it to be thought
that I would advise the Sioux to war upon the
whites .

“How could such a thing as that be thought by any
one?” cut in the scout.

Thereupon Crooked Ben gave an account of what had
happened at Lone Tree Hill.

“Great Scott!” muttered the scout.
scheme, and no mistake.”

 

Laat Was. a

“You see how black it made the whole business for me?
I only wanted to do one thing, and that was to come north
and warn those in the wagon train. I got here too late to
do that.”

“But you didn’t get here too late to set yourself right
with the Sioux,” put in Holcomb. ‘They were starting
to leave us, Buffalo Bill, when yeu and the men from the
Musselshell came down on them.”

“Then we weren’t needed, after all?’ asked the scout.

“T’m glad you were here, just the same,” laughed Hol-
comb. h

As he finished speaking, the notes of the bugle rang out
again, and the troopers came galloping back from their
pursuit of the Sioux fugitives.

“We couldn’t find that yellow-haired scoundrel, Buf-
falo Bill,” reported Halpin disgustedly, bringing his horse
toa Hoe inside the circle of wagons. “As for that,” he
added, “we weren’t able to overtake any of the Sioux,
either. ey built that fire and got away under cover of
the smoke.” _

“According to what I have just been told here, Hal-
pin,” returned the Scout, “it’s just as well.”

“Just as well?” echoed the lieutenant.

“Ves,” spoke up Holcomb, stepping to the front. “We
have the yellow-haired renegade a prisoner, and the In-
dians have started back to their own hunting grounds.”

“This is news and no mistake,” said Halpin, swinging
down from his horse.

CHAPTER XVI.
ON TO THE CANTONMENT.

Next morning—for it was almost sunset when the men
from the Musselshell reached the beleaguered forces un-
der Holcomb—the wagon train got under way again and
started for Traders’ Ford.

BILL SPORTHS: — - ge

There were several mules missing and many of the
escort and the teamsters were injured, but no lives had
been lost, and Holcomb believed that no wounds had been
received which would cause the_loss of lives.

Among the slain Indians Broken Arrow was found. He
had paid the price of his ae and his own people
had demanded it of him.

He and two or three more of his people were laid in
the Sioux rifle pits and covered with earth.

Buffalo Bill and his pards rode ahead of the wagons.
Some of the men from the Musselshell acted as scouts
and rode well out on the flanks.

Masta Shella was in one of the wagons, securely bound,
and with one of the escort riding with him to make sure
that he did not escape.

Crooked Ben rode in another wagon. He had lost a
horse, but he counted that as nothing to the satisfaction
he felt in setting himself clear before the eyes of the
scout and his pards, the soldiers, and the Sioux.

“I’m positive,’ Holcomb was saying as he rode along
side by side with the scout, “that Masta oe as he i is
called, is really Dan Lenefee.”’ :

“You recognized him?” asked the scout.

“Of course,” qualified the captain ; “a great many years
have passed, and they have brought changes in the fel-
low, ao I could almost take my eath he is the same
man.’

“Whether he is or not, Holcomb, it will make little dif-
ference with the way the military authorities deal with
him.”

“He'll get all that s coming, rest assured of that,” de-
clared Holcomb.

“Major Partridge will attend to that,” said Halpin.

“This ends the uprising,’ went on Holcomb. “There
isn’t the least doubt of that. The reds had two white lead-
ers, and now both of them are cleared out of the ,
Wayo.
Wild Bill, who was riding a little in the rear, chimed in
with a remark.

“That’s what was generally thought, cap, after Blix was
taken to Custer. But this train has had an experience that
proves the peaceful guesses were wrong.’

“There would have been no trouble for the train if the

Sioux hadn’t been given the impression that Crooked Ben
wanted war.” ‘
/ “That was hard on Ben,” said the scout, “for a more
peaceable fellow than he is it would be hard to find. He
has suffered a good deal from redskin depredations. I
hope,” the scout added, “that the government will give
him a horse to replace the one he has lost.”

“The major will do that, I am sure,” returned Halpin.
“Crooked Ben lost the horse trying to get to the wagon

_ train and notify the escort of the plans of Masta Shella.

Oe a all OOPS AION ah cent tel

 
 

 

 

 

 

aa THE BUFFALO

What you say about this Masta Shella being one of the
grain thieves who helped Rain-in-the-face get away from

Lincoln, Holcomb,” he proceeded, changing the subject,

“Just matches rumors that are current regarding Four-
jack Bob, the squaw man who preémpted the log cabin
at Traders’ Ford.”

“What about him?’ asked Holcomb,

“Why, he was one of the men, and Masta Shella was
the other.”

“Queer!” muttered Holcomb. “Way up here, in Mon-

tana, they are using the power they won as friends of the —

(Uncpapa captive to set the reds against the whites. Major
(Partridge ought to lay that Four-jack Bob by the heels.”
“Tt wouldn’t do.”
“Why not?’
“Four-jack Bob is a squaw man. That makes him, in a

way, one of the tribe. To kick up a ruction with one of —

the tribe would unsettle the whole Sioux outfit. Anyhow,
there’s not the same evidence against Four-jack that there
is against Masta Shella. I’m confident that Four-jack has
been doing underhanded work among the reds, because
he’s a’pard of Masta Shella’s and must have been a friend
of Blix’s. That flatboat was in the cove for some purpose.
Eh, Cody?”

“For a hostile purpose, I think,” answered the scout.

“What flatboat are you talking about?’ queried Hol-
comb.

“One that Pawnee and I took a ride in,” said the scout;
“and it was the same flatboat in which Captain Hollis re-
covered his senses after receiving the blow from Four-
jack Bob.”

“Hollis was my second pick-up during this round with
the reds,” laughed Pawnee Bill. “The first was Crooked
Ben. I picked him up off the ground, where he had been
dropped with a crease in his forehead; and I picked up
Hollis from the river, while the scout used the oars and
held the skiff steady.” ;

“T wish you'd tell me a little something about that ferry-
boat business, and that pick-up with the skiff,” said
Holcomb. “For the first time in two days I have a chance
to give some attention to other things than Indians. Now,
Buffalo Bill, heave ahead and help me make the most
Of ih

The scout laughed.

“T wanted to save talk until I could give it to all of

you who wanted to hear the yarn,” said he, “without be-

ing compelled to tell it over and over again. Pawnee Bill
can help. He did half of the work.” —

The scout, with now and then a word from the bowie
man, offered a record of events from the time he and
Pawnee had issued forth from the wagon train at ten in
the evening and started for the cantonment on the Mus-
selshell.

Every step was gone over, but there was nothing in the

~

BILL STORIES.

recital which claimed more attention than did the queer
results which had attended the sudden projection of Cap-
tain Hollis into the, work of the two pards.

“This will be good news for the men at Custer,” said
Holcomb, with especial reference to Hollis. “Hollis is
a favorite with everybody, and everybody wants to do him
honor since he cleared his name and fame of that Eldridge
affair. But what could be done to a man who was half
cracked? Now, with his reason returned, Hollis will
find himself even more popular than he ever has been.”

“And I’ve heard of something else which will minister
to Hollis’ happiness,” remarked Halpin slyly.

“What is that?”

“Why, that he is engaged to be married—or, rather,
that he was engaged to be married at the time that El-
dridge affair happened.”

“That is true,” said Holcomb briefly.

“The affair was broken off on account of the shooting
of Eldridge.”

“Which was right, Halpin.’

“Of course; but when Hollis was cleared, his mind was
in such a condition that the marriage had to remain
broken off.”

eV esa

“That is not the case now.. There can be marriage
bells just as soon as the young lady in the case is will-

“i 99

ing.

“She’s willing at any time the captain is ready,” laughed
Holcomb. “I ought to know something about this,
friends,” he added, “inasmuch as the lady in the case is
my sister Helen.”

The scout had heard about this affair of the heart, and
he was ready to rejoice with Hollis in his great good for-
tune.

d

“Thet’s ther way I like ter see a thing come out,” spoke
up old Nomad. “Not fer me,” he added hastily, “kase I
ain’t er matryin’ man; but fer young fellers like Hollis,
now, thar ain‘t nothin’ could be finer.”

And so thought the rest of them.

THE END.

“Buffalo Bill’s Crow Scouts; or, Pawnee Bill and the
Absarokes,” is the story for the next issue, No. 506.
Once more the Bills and their pards ride the trail of the
redskins, and once more our old friend, the baron, has
a chance to “star himself.” There’s never a human
coyote put out of the way, but another rises to take his
place; and in this story a man with a great big yellow
streak in him manages to make more trouble than all of
the bloodthirsty Indians together. We can’t tell you the
story now—you'll have to wait till next week—but it's
one of the most thrilling tales that the adventures of the
great scouts have made possible for us. No. 506—out
January 21st. .

 

We
Wwe
on
it

d is

an

re
cle

th
ple
M
OV

 
 

THE BUFFALO

 

   

DEVOTED TO BORDER LIFE

 

 

 

 

 

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HEROES IN THE ROUGH.

By F. B. CHESTER.

The bravery and heroism of self-sacrificing then who have
sternly faced death or sacrificed their heart’s dearest, affec-
tions for the preservation of others, have had their chronicles
from time immemorial.

Yet it is seldom that the heroic deeds and unselfish devo-
tion of our railroad men find a record. They have too long
been looked upon as a rough class of men, uneducated and
unprincipled, and a necessary evil in every part of the
country where the echoes are awakened by the shrill whistle
of the iron horse.

_I shall not attempt their vindication, being content to leave
that to time and abler pens; but I cannot refrain from narrat-
ing a few incidents wherein many lives were saved by
railroad employees.
incident at the time of its occurrence by the local press, but
the full particulars will be of interest to all.
Some years ago there was employed by the Rail-

 

road a poor, uneducated man, whose duties were to attend —

a drawbridge over a canal at a certain point on the road,
and the flag station attached to it.

The approach to this bridge on the east side was a curve
around a high hill and through a deep cut, the cut being but
a few rods from the bridge. It will thus be seen that the
engineer of a train going west could not see the bridge until
too late to stop, should anything be wrong, unless he ran
at reduced speed. As much valuable time would be con-
sumed in running slow until the bridge was passed, the
watchman was provided with a flag and red lamp, which
were to be placed—by day or night, as the case might be—
on the top of the hill, a hundred yards from the draw, when
it was necessary for him to open it; the flag and light being
discernible to trains approaching from either direction.

Of course this was but a fair-weather signal; in foggy
and stormy weather, torpedoes were placed on the track
around the curve to stop the trains. As the watchman was
required to be at his post day and night, a house was erected
close by, in which he resided with his family.

One clear, bright, but windy, day he was called to open
the draw for boats. Trains being due ere long, he hurriedly
placed his flag, and, in a few moments, the boats were passing.
More time than usual was consumed by their slow movements,
owing to the heavy wind dead against them, and it lacked

Brief mention was made of the first .

BILL STORIES.

29
a

but a few minutes to the time of a fast express, bound west,
when the last boat had passed, and he commenced working
the cumbrous machinery :to close the gap.

Instinctively glancing upward while thus occupied, he saw,
to his dismay, that the flag had blown from its fastening.

At the same instant he heard a cry and a plunge, and, look-
ing around, was almost paralyzed to see his boy—the pride
of a loving father’s heart—struggling in the water, and whose
cries for help echoed in his ears, mingled with the shrill
whistle of the train, now but a mile away. :

Oh, the agony of that moment!

He had barely time to shut the draw.
child must drown.

If he saved his child the train must plunge into the opening
and scores perish.

Can you imagine a more trying position? What would
you have done had you been in his place, think you? What
thoughts must have flashed with lightning swiftness through
his brain! All a father’s natural affection calling on him to
save his child.

The picture of his home rose up before him, no more
made happy with childish music and pattering of little
feet. No more was his rough, bearded face to be pressed
by those dimpled hands and rosy lips.

Think of the heroism which nerved his arm and steeled
his heart to the cries of his first born, as, with starting
eyes and brain on fire, he swung that bridge into place,
the train flashing by the same instant.

Think of the grief of the father, when, all unnerved, he
bore the dripping, lifeless form to his now desolate home;
and then tell me, ye readers of romance, did velvet doublet
or steel cuirass ever cover the heart of a greater hero?
And yet he was but “a rough railroad man.”

The hero of the incident with which we conclude this
account was an engineer—a rough, greasy, grimy engineer;
one of the oldest in the service, and as good and brave a.
man, withal, as ever “pulled a plug” on an engine.

Although the writer was running on the same road at
the time of its occurrence, and was conversant with all the
facts, he will let an old “knight of the foot board” tell it
in his own words, as he told it many years ago in a little .
volume entitled “Reminiscences in the Life of a Locomotive
Engineer.”

“Those who have traveled much on the Little Miami
Railroad must have noticed a little old fellow, with grizzled
locks and unpoetical stoop of the shoulders, who whisks
about his engine with all the activity of a cat, and whom
the railroad men call ‘Uncle Jimmy.’ That is old Jimmy
Wiggins, an engineer of long standing and well known. I
believe Uncle Jimmy learned the machinist’s trade with
Eastwick & Harrison, in Philadelphia; at all events, he
has been railroading for a long time and has been always
noted for his carefulness and vigilance. Let me attempt to
describe him.

“He is about five feet four inches in height, stoop-
shouldered, and short-legged. His hair is iron-gray and his
face would be called anything but beautiful. He has,
though, a clear blue eye that looks straight and firmly into
yours with an honest and never-flinching expression that
at once convinces you that he is a ‘game’ man. Not very
careful about his dress is old Jimmy; grease spots abound

If he did so, his

_on all his clothing and his hands are usually begrimed with

the marks of his trade. In short, Uncle Jimmy is anything
but a romantic-looking fellow, and a novelist would hesitate
long before taking him as the hero of a romance; but
the old man is a hero and under that rough, yet placid,
exterior there beats a heart that never cools and a will
that never flinches. We go back into the history of past
ages to find our heroes, and them we almost worship; but
I question whether the whole history of the world furnishes
a better example of self-sacrificing heroism than this same
rough and unromantic-looking Jimmy Wiggins. It is not
the casket that gives value to the jewel; it is the jewel gives
value to all. So with Uncle Jimmy; rough he looks, but

 
 

30 | THE BUFFALO

the heart he has makes him an honor to the race and de-
SCrVillg OT Our praise. sc!

“VU tell you why I think so:

“Uncle Jimmy was running a train that laid by on the
switch at Spring Valley for the up express to pass. He
got there on time, and, the express being a little behind
time, the old man took advantage of the time to oil round.
The whistle of the up train. was heard, but he paid no
heed thereto, for it was to pass without stopping. -The
fellow who attended to the switch stood there at his post.
Uncle Jimmy was coolly at work when a shriek from the
conductor called his attention, and, looking up, he saw what
would frighten and unnerve almost any one. The stupid fool
at the switch had thrown it wide open and the express was
already on the branch, coming, too, at the rate of thirty
miles an hour—thirty feet in the beat of your pulse—and
his train, loaded with passengers, stood there stock-still. That
was a time to try the stuff a man was made of. Ordinary
men would have shrunk from the task and ran from the
scene. Your lily-handed, romantic gentry would have failed
then, but homely old Jimmy Wiggins rose superior to the
position, and, unromantic as he looks, proved a.hero. No
flinch in him. What though two hundred: torS of matter
were being hurled at him, fifty feet in the second! What
though the chances for death for him were a thousand to
one for safety! No.tremor in that brave old heart, no
nerveless action in that strong arm. He leaped on to. the
engine, and with his charge met the shock; but his own
engine was reversed and under motion backward when the
other train struck it. It all took but an instant of time,
but in that moment old Jimmy Wiggins concentrated more
of true courage than many a man gets into a lifetime of
seventy years.

“The collision was frightful; iron and wood were twisted
and jammed together as if they were rotten straw. Charley
Ffunt, the engineer of the other train, was instantly killed;
passengers were wounded; terror, fright, and pain held sway.
Death was there, and all stood back appalled at what had
octurred; yet all shuddered more to think of what would
have been the result had old Jimmy’s engine stood still, and
all felt a trembling anxiety for his fate, for surely, thought
they, ‘in that wreck his life must have been sacrificed to
his bravery’; but out of the mass, as cool, as calm as when
running on a straight track, crawled Uncle Jimmy, unhurt.

“He still runs on the same road, and long may his days
be and happy.”

Such cases are not rare among ts, if not blazoned to
the world in high-flown rhetoric and lavish praise.

When the incident just narrated occurred certain papers,
commenting on it, threw the blame without stift on the rail-
road employees indiscriminately. Columns were devoted to
showing what would have prevented the accident, and dic-
tating rules for the guidance of officers and employees. But

mention was never made of the heroism that had preserved

many lives at the risk of a horrible death to the heroic
engineer.

CAPTURING A WILD HORSE.

One of the most terrific experiences ever known in Cen-
tral Kansas was related a few days ago by Dick Ingman,
now of Oklahoma, but who is stopping here in the East for
the winter. Dick was a hunter and also one of. the original
cowboys of the famous Texas and Kansas cattle trails, and
knows almost every foot of the soil between the Brazos and
Smoky Hill Rivers.

"Twas along in the seventies,” said he to a little party, in-
cluding the writer, “when we had come up from the feed-
ing grounds with a big herd of cattle. We had sold ’em
mighty well and the boss gave us drivers an extra week
to rest up before going back to the ranch. We, of course,
had a nice time and were not a great while in getting rid
of the little pile of money we got when ns were paid off.

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BILL SIORIES:

é

In fact, I was pretty nigh busted myself and\was cursing
my luck with the pasteboards when a chance came to get
even. :

“A man came into town one night with a terrible story
of seeing the ghost of a horse careering over the prairie.
He said it flew by him like an engine and the poor fellow
was about scared to death. In a day or two it was seen
again. This time it was by daylight and the rich cattleman
who saw it said it was the handsomest piece of horseflesh he
ever laid eyes on, and he was from Kentucky, too. - He
offered one thousand dollars to the chap who'd capture the
horse alive and sound, and my chum, Nat, and I started
out inthe morning to see if we couldn’t win the prize.

“We followed the river about eight miles to where the
Solomon River makes a junction with it, and then went
up on a bluff to take bearings. Finally we separated and I
went up a little cafion along the Solomon. I followed it
about eighty rods, when | came to a narrow pass, and saw
beyond that a pretty inclosure nearly circular and covered
with grass.

“And in there was the white horse. He was a beauty—
as white as milk, with a mane that was down to his knees,
while his tail swept the ground. ‘He had beautiful action,
too, and, being all alone, was prancing and pawing~ the
ground as if in play. "How he could have got there was a
wonder, for there. were no wild horses nearer than Fort
Reno in those days. He might have wandered away from
the herd and got lost, but there was no other explanation
that seemed reasonable.

“When he saw me he stopped prancing and glared at me,

frightened like, stamping the earth with his forefoot like’

a sheep that’s scared. The place he was in was a kind of
cul-de-sac, and I stood at the entrance, with the river on
the right. [ watched him a minute, and then, taking my
lariat from the saddle, I tied one end to a sapling, and,
standing on the ground, sent my pony in to scare the wild
horse. The pony, with the big saddle, was a strange-
looking object enough, and the horse ran from him in
fright. After taking one or two turns: around the. circle
he set out straight for me, and I kwew the tug of war was
coming,

“With queer little jumps he came toward me, and then,
running faster and faster, prepared for a rush between me
and the side of the cafion, I coiled the lariat and was ready
to let.i¢ fly.

“As the horse came nearer I swung the rawhide rope

around my head, and, sending it through the air, it un-
curled just right, and. dropped exactly over his head and
flying mane. As he came up to the end the sapling could
no more hold him than a thread, and it was jerked out,
catching me in the limbs, and both of us went whirling
along the cafion after the mad and frightened beast. It
would have been all day with me if my partner had not just
then come in sight, and, throwing 1p his hands, checked
the ‘critter’s race.

“The horse whirled and came back on his tracks before Te

could get on my feet. I yelled at the top of my voice and
he just reared up on his hind legs until-he seemed to stand
straight in the air. In a pickle as I was I couldn’t help
admiring the creature, and I think still it was the handsomest
picture I ever saw out of doors.

“Well, the horse came down on his fore feet again and
made a lunge toward me, and then, as I dodged, jumped
straight off the ten-foot bank into/the.river. I hadn’t pre-
pared for that move, and, being all tangled up so in the
lariat, I didn’t hardly know what to do. Before I could do
anything and before Nat could get to me, I was jerked into
the water, too, and was fidgeting hard to keep my head
above water. Steady and fast the horse swam straight for
a little island in the middle of the stream.

“The minute he struck the beach he stopped “and stood
shaking his white mane at me. The current was mighty
swift and I couldn't keep my footing, so I just let my. body

sprawl out on the water and hung on the rope, hoping Nat

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THE BUFFALO

would have sense enough to help me out I didn't know
where he was and was too scared and bewildered to look
around.

“But Nat wasn't asleep, and in a minute I saw him cross-
ing the stream above on his pony. He touched the upper
end of the island, and, leaving his cayuse, he crept steady
and slow toward the horse that was holding me. Strange,
the creature didn't hear or smell him, but probably his atten-
ton was too much taken up. Nat finally got up on a stump
of a tree, and, tying his lariat as [ had done mine, only
to.a heavier tree, he made ready to throw it. ;

“Mebbe I-wasn’t glad to see something done! The lariat
had got so tangled around me that I couldn't stir easy, and it
was a question of minutes when I'd drown if I stayed there.

_ “But Nat's aim was good and the loop came down over
the horse’s head right above mine, and as it struck the horse
rushed sidewise, pulling me out of the water.

“Tn a minute Nat was by my side and had pulled me out
of the coils of the rope, and then we put our weight on the
thing to choke the horse down. It wasn't a very long job and
in a few minutes he was panting for breath. Then we roped
him well and started to get him to. town.

“Nat had his pony, but mine had skipped for the village.
It was after dark when we got him across the water to dry
land, and almost morning when the ornery critter could be
pushed and drove and led to the city.

“We put him in one of the cattle pens, leaving the rope
around his neckgand hunted up the cattleman who wanted
him. He was as good as his word and gave us five hundred
dollars apiece for our-work. He had the creature tamed
and broken, and sold him for twice the money in an Eastern
city.”

HOW ANIMALS FEED.

Snails have teeth on their tongues, hundreds of them, but,
as if these were not enough, some haye them also in their
stomachs. The cuttlefish, which, among other strange things,
always walks with its head downward, does not chew its
food at all, but masticates swith its gizzard. So do. geese,
fowls, ducks, and indeed all birds. Seizing their food in their
beaks, they swallow it whole, if.grain or seed, and in large
pieces if it be fruit or bread.

In that condition ft goes into the gizzard, a powerful
muscle, with a tough, horny lining, which acts as a mill,
being sufficiently powerful to pulverize uncooked corn. To
assist in the milling process, all grain-eating birds swallow
little peces of gravel, glass, crockery, metal, etc., the horny
interior of the gizzard being sufficiently tough to escape cut-
ting by these seemingly dangerous materials.

Fishes and reptiles use their teeth for the same purpose
—that of taking their food—but, like the birds, they gulp
down their food unchewed, and unbroken, if possible, Phere
are, however, exceptions. The ray, or skate, for instance,
has a mouth set transversely across its head, the jaws work-
ing with a rolling motion like two hands set back to back.
In: the jaws are three rows of flat teeth, set like a mosaic
pavement, and between these rolling jaws the fish crushes

oysters and other mollusks like so many nuts, in spite of their -

hard shells,

The carp’s teeth are set back on the pharynx, so that it
may be literally said to masticate ttc food in its throat. «ine
carp, too, is about the only cud-chewing fish, the coarsely-
swallowed food being forced up to these throat teeth for
complete mastication.
like the sucker and the lamprey; others,
dreds and hundreds of teeth, sometimes so many
cover all parts of the mouth.

Man is the only animal that has teeth—incisors, canines,
and molars—of an equal height. Man, the ape, and nearly
all ruminants, have thirty-two teeth. The hog, however, 1s
better off than this, and has forty-four. So have the opos-
sum and mole. The river dolphin of South America goes

again, have hun-
that they

Some fishes are absolutely toothless,.

BILL STOREES. 3t
far beyond this, however, being provided by nature with no
fewer than two hundred and twenty-two teeth.

Teeth are not part of the skeleton, but belong to the ap-
pendages, like skin and hair. The sturgeon is toothless,
and draws in its food by suction, but the shark has hun-
dreds of teeth set in rows that sometimes number ten.
Lobsters and crabs masticate their food with their horny
jaws, but they have also sets of teeth in their stomachs,
where they complete the work of chewing. But there is one
peculiar kind of crab, called the king, or horseshoe. crab,
which chews its food with its legs. This is an actual fact,
the little animal giving its morsels a preliminary grinding be-
tween its horny thighs before it passes them over to its
mouth, ;

The jellyfish absorbs-its food by wrapping itself round
the object which it seeks to make its own, The starfish is
even-more accommodating. Fastening itself to the body it
wishes to feed on, it turns its stomach inside out, and en-
wraps its prey with this useful organ. Dogs seize their
food with their jaws, cats with their feet; and so do monkeys,
some of them pressing their prehensile tails into service. The
squirrel uses its paws to carry its food to its mouth, the ele-
phant its trunk, and the gitaffe, ant-eater, and toad their
tongues.

Grasshoppers and locusts are very well provided with the
necessary machinery for eating much and often. They have
sawlike jaws, and gizzards,-too, the latter being fitted with
horny teeth. The caterpillar feeds with two saw-edged
jaws working transversely, and uses them to such good pur-
pose that he eats three or four times his own weight every
day. Toads, tortoises, turtles, and most lizards have no
teeth. Frogs have teeth in. their upper jaws only. Ant-
eaters, sloths, and armadilloes are not possessed of any teeth.

The lion and the tiger, and, indeed, most of the carnivora,
do not grind their food. They use their jaws only up and
down, the molars acting like chopping knives, or rather
scissors. The butterfly pumps nectar into itself through a
tube, and bees and flies suck up their food with a long
tongue or proboscis. The spider's mouth is quite a compli-
cated affair. It has fangs for holding its prey, mastica-
tory organs for bruising its solid food, and a sucking ap-
paratus for taking up the fluids. Quite as complicated is the
mouth of the mosquito, which consists of lances, saws, and
the pumping tubes. Fae .

The leech has three saws, with which it does good service
in the phlebotomy line. The woodpecker has a three-barbed
tongue like a Fijian’s spear, with which it draws out the
worm that it has excited by its tapping. The clam feeds with
a syphon and the oyster with its beard. Strange and curious
as some of these modes of feeding are, however, they none
compare in simplicity and effectiveness with that of the tape-
worm. This creature has neither mouth nor stomach, but
just lies along and devotes its energies to absorbing the
already digested food in some one else’s stomach through
its skin.

 

CERTAINLY.

It is not often that a youth takes his seat as suddenly as
the one of whom we are about to speak, or keeps it as per-
sistently. He was the keenest boy in the class, and when
an unpopular professor said: -

“Gentlemen, your next subject for composition will be
manners,” he at once rose and asked: “Can we write on
bad manners, sir?”

The professor looked over his spectacles at the all-con-
quering youth, and quietly answered:

“Certainly. You can write about whatever you are best
acquainted with.”

 

Teacher: “Now, who can tell me which travels the faster
—heat or cold?”
Johnny (promptly )—“Heat, of course.

Anybody can
catch cold.” ay

 
 

  

 

 

  

BUFFALO

The most original stories of Western adventure.
Buffalo Bill, High art colored covers.

4i93—Buffalo Bill at Cafion Diablo; or, Pawnee Bill’s Railroad
Mutiny.

494—Buffalo Bill’s Transfer; or, Pawnee Bill’s Stock Deal.

oy aeons and the Red Horse Hunters; or, Pawnee Bill’s

eril.

400—Buffalo Bill’s Dangerous Duty;
White Stallion.

497—Buffalo Bill and the Chief? s Daughter; or, Three Bills in a
Triple Bill.

or, Pawnee Bill and the

498—Buffalo Bill at Tinaja Wells; or, Pane Bill’s. Target /

Practice.

BILL STORIES

 

The only weekly containing the adventures of the fameus
Thirty-two big pages. Price, 5

cents.
490—Buffalo Bill and the Men of Mendon; or, Pawnee Bill’s
Deputy.
500o—Buffalo Bill at Rainbow’s End; or, Pawnee Bill and the
Pot of Gold.
soi—Buffalo Bill and the Russian Plot; or, Pawnee Bill and the
Grand Duke.

502—Buffalo Bill’s Red Triangle; or, Pawnee Bill and the Sign ©
of the Three.

503—Buffalo Bill’s Royal Flush; or, Pawnee Bill and the Five
Dukes.

 

BRAVE

All kinds of stories that boys like.
covers.. Thirty-two big pages. Price, 5 cents. .

406—Fighting the Redcoats; or, The Boy Heroes of the Revolu-
tion, By 7. C. Harbaugh.

407—A Fine Spun Plot; or, Bowery Billy and the Alibi. By

ohn R. Conway.

408—In the Colonial Navy; or, The Adventures of Dashing Paul
Jones. By Frank ‘Sheridan.

409—A Golden Find; or, Paving the Road to Fortune.
fe, Douglas.

410—Lucky Tom, Messenger ; or, When the Number Thirteen
Was Lucky. By John R. Douglas.

4i11—The es Hermit; or, Bowery Billy” in Greenwich
Village. By John R. Conway.

By John

 

 

D WEEKLY

The biggest and best nickel’s worth ever offered. High art colored

412—From Bootblack to Grandee; or, Charles Manton and
Montezuma’s Treasure. By John R. Douglas.

413—The Stolen Portrait Mystery; or, Bowetye Billy 1 in Bohemia.

: By John R. Conway.

thee Speeds to Victory; or, Motoring for the Borden
Cup. By Stanley R. Matthews.

415—The Young Magician; or, Conjuring to Fame and Fortune.
By John L. Douglas.

416—The Panhandlers of Essex Street; or, Bowery Billy. on the
Warpath. By John R. Conway.

417—Motoring in ‘the Depths; or, Raiding the Rebels in a Sub.
marine. By Stanley R. Matthews.

 

 

The most popular publication for boys.
this weekly. High art colored covers.

754—Dick Merriwell’s Intuition ; or, The Worst Fellow in Col-
lege.

755—Dick “Merriwell’ s Vantage; or, The Hindoo Mystery.

750—Dick Merriwell’s Advice; or, The Man Who Woke Up.

737—Dick Merriwell’s Rescue; or, The Regeneration of Rudolph
Rose.

758—Dick Merriwell, American; or, The Man From Japan.

759—Dick Merriwell’s Understanding; or, The Man Who Was
Hounded.

76o—Dick Merriwell,

Tutor; or, The Fellow Who Gave Up
Football.

 

KLY

The adventures of Frank and Dick Meciwell can be had only in
Thirty-two pages.

Price, 5 cents.

761—Dick Merriwell’s Quandary; or, The Mysteries of
serted Farmhouse.

762——Dick Merriwell on the Boards;
Syndicate. ;

763—Dick Merriwell, Peacemaker; or, Tlie Split in the Varsity.

764—Frank Merriwell’s Sway; or, The Boy Who Was Pampered.

765—Frank Merriwell’s Comprehension; or, The Making of
Vincent Schuyler.

766—Frank Merriwell’s Young Acrobat; or, The Boy from the
Sawdust Ring,

767--Frank Merriwell’s Tact; or, The Taming of Carth Tennant.

the De-

or, Fighting the Theatrical

For sale by all newsdeclers, or will be sent to any address on receipt of price,
5 cents per copy, in money or postage stamps, by

STREET & SMITH, Publishers, 79-89 Seventh Avenue, New York

 

 

IF YOU WANT ANY BACK NUMBERS

of our Weeklies and cannot procure them from your newsdealer, they can be
obtained from this office direct.
ts with the price of the Weeklies you want and we will send them to you by return mail,

Fill out the following Order Blank and send it to
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STREET & SMITH, 79-89 Seventh Avenue, New York City.

Dear Sirs: Enclosed please find...... sseeuueaters a.
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Seatceesdoe

eee emer eee eee eee ese ee eee eee ee rmeseseeceseoerecee

ee ia cents for which send mes

BUFFALO BILL STORIES, NOS.......0cs0ces..cccccc.-coeeeeee-
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eof eeorses Cees ecaeesctey ©CSo0ePGFsesoonesesecrect Seectc  stQless. anrne0a8226G)

  

 
 
 

 

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.

These stories have been read exclusively in this

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 you become so thoroughly acquainted with

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.
order them or they will be.sent direct by the publishers to

money or postage-stamps.

245—Buffalo
250—Buffalo
252—Buffalo
253—-Buffalo
254—Buffalo
256—Buffalo
258—Buffalo
267—Butffalo
272—Buffalo
-273—Buffalo
274—Buffalo
275—Butffalo
278—Buffalo
283—Butftalo
285—Buffalo
287—Buffalo
288—Buffalo
292—Buffalo
293—Buffalo
298—Buffalo
299—Buffalo
305—Buftalo
306—Butffalo
308—Buffalo
309—Buffalo,
312—Buffalo
314—Buffalo
3815—Buffalo
316—Buffalo
319—Buffalo
321—Butffalo
324—Buffalo
325—Buffalo
326—Buffalo
327—Buffalo
328—Buffalo
329—Buffalo
330—Buffalo
331—Buffalo
332—Buffalo
333—Buffalo
§34—Buffalo
335—Buffalo
336—Buffalo
337—Buftalo
338—Buffalo
3839—-Buffalo
840—Buffalo
341—Buffalo
3842—Buffalo
348—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
366—Buffalo
367—Butffalo
368—Buffalo

Bills Lest. Quarry: os. see. 5
Bill on a Long Hunt........ 5
Bill and the Redskin Wizard 5
Bill’s Bold Challenge....... 5
Bills Shawnee Stampede.... 5
Bill on a Desert Trail...... 5
Bill in Tight Quarters...... 5D
Bill in the Canyon of Death.
Bil’s Dusky Trailers....... 5D
Bills Diamond Mine........
Bill and the Pawnee Serpent
Bill's Searlet Mande... 6...
Bills Daring Plunge........
Bill Up a Stumps ess...
Bills Master-stroke.........
Bill and the Brazos Terror. .
Bills Dance of Death....... 5
Bill’s Medicine-lodge....... ;
Bim Rerh ee ke es ee
Bills Black Hagles..........
Bills Desperate Dozen...... 5
Bill and the Barge Bandits.
Bill, the Desert Hotspur.... 5
Bil’s Whirlwind Chase.....
Bill’s Red Retribution...... 5
Biulks Death — JAM. vee 5 < 5
Bill in the Jaws of Death....
Bills Aztee Runners......
Bill’s Dance with Death.....
Bill's Mazeppa. Ride........ D
Bills Gypsy Band;:........ i
Bills Gold: BManters. 22). 62 5¢
Bill in Old Mexico......... 5
Bill’s Message from the Dead
Bill and the Wolf-master.... 5
Bills Flying Wonder........
Bills Hidden Gold. 3.2. 2.5%
mille Outlaw Trail... 323
Bill and the Indian Queen...
Bill and the Mad Marauder...
Bill's Ice Barricade.........
Bill and the Robber Elk.....
Bills Ghost Dance. ........ 5
Bills Peace-pipe........ Beka
Bil’s Red Nemesis.........
Bill’s Enchanted Mesa..... - 5
Bill in the Desert of Death..
Bills Pay, Streaks. oa oe 5
Bill on Detached Duty......
Bil’s: Arm Mystery....:..: 5
Bill's Surprise’ Party........
Bile Great: eRe eae
Bitlis Waiter “raise ce
Bills, Ordeal-or Mires. 3 o.
Bills Casket of Pearls..... :
Bis esky 7 eiloOtes.: cee 5
BUMS “SMotemy nck «ko hee
Bills Fiat-boat Drift......:
Bill on Deck

Bill and the Bronco Buster. .
Bill’s Great Round-up......
Bilis | Pledeece. se H
Bills. Cowboy Pard..... 5
Bill and the Emigrants......
Bill Among the Pueblos.....
Bill’s Four-footed Pards....
Bill's Protégé... 5.

Bill’s Pick-up....

Bills: Ouest ons ences ae je
Bil’s Waif of tho Plains....
Bill Among the Mormons...
Bills Assistance.......... ae
Bill’s Rattlesnake Trail.....

5
5
5
5
5
5
5
5
5

5

 

369—Buffalo
370—Buffalo
371—Buffalo
372—Buffalo
374—Buffalo
375—Buffalo
377—Butffalo
378—Buffalo
379—Buffalo
880—Buffalo
881—Buffalo
382—Buffalo
383—Butftalo
384—Buffalo
385—Butffalo
386—Buffalo
387—Buffalo
388—Buffalo
389—Buffalo
390—Buffalo
391—Buffalo
892—Buffalo
3893—Buffalo
394—Buffalo
395—Buffalo
396—Buffalo
397—Buffalo
3898—Buffalo
399—Buffalo
400—Buffalo
401—Buffalo
402—Buffalo
403—Buftfalo
404—Buffalo
405—Buffalo
406—Buffalo
407—Buffalo
408—Buffalo
409—Buffalo
410—Buffalo
411—Buffalo
412—Buffalo
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—Biffalo
429—Buffalo
430—Buffalo
431—Buffalo
432—Buftalo
433—Buffalo
434—Buffalo
435—Buffalo
436—Buffalo
437—Buffalo
438—Buffalo
439—Buffalo
440—Buffalo
441—Buffalo
442— Buffalo
443—Buffalo
444—Buffalo

Bill and the Slave-Dealers...
Billis7Strone: Atm sits es cc.
BullseGirl 2 Pard ace ie cee
Bill’s Iron Bracelets........
Bills Jade“ Amulet. %) 0.5...
Bulls: Maric Wariat.a...06. .:
Bills: Bridge of Wires «co...
Bills Bowler. 3... s
Bill's) Pay-streake: 20 cs. ¢ ee:
Bill’s Mi

Bill’s
Bill’s

Rusesc.:

Bill Overboard... 6000s 8

Buvs Ring. ose... fs

eoceoeecce

5
5

Bill's: Big Contract... 26... 5

Bill and Calamity Jane.....
Bill’s Kid Pard

5
Bill’s Desperate Plight......

Bill’s Fearless Stand.......
Bill and the Yelping Crew...
Bills Guiding Hands... 00%
BilVs Queer: Quest. 80. 0st
Bill’s Prize ‘“Getaway”.....
Bills Hurricane Hustle.....
Biulvs Star uPlays.o..< oc s
Bill’s Bluff

Bill’s Trackers..... Sieete evens

Bills Duteh Bards.cic oe... 5

Bill and the Bravocs. occ
Bill and the Quaker........
Bill’s Package of Death.....
Bill’s Treasure Cache.......

Bis: Private wwars . secs os ce 5

Bill and the Trouble Hunter.

Bill and the Rope Wizard.... 5

Bills WiGstai a. cece: cece
Bill Among the Cheyennes...
Bul Besieged ce tice tices se een we
Bill and the Red Hand......
Bill’s Tree-trunk Drift......
Bill and the Specter........
Bill and the Red Feathers...

Bill’s King Stroke..... Bee ere
Bill, the Desert Cyclone.... 2

Bill’s Cumbres Scouts......
Bill and the Man-wolf......
Bill and His Winged Pard...

Bill at Babylon Bar........ 5

Bills Hone Arm cc... Rieder wiess
Bill’s Steel Arm Pard.......
Bill’s Aztec Guide.........
Bill and Little Firefly......
Bill in the Aztee City......

Bill’s Balloon Escape....... 5

Bill and the Guerrillas....

Bills Border Wall + cs siclecs
Bill’s Mexican Mix-up.......
Bill and the Gamecock.....
Bill and the Cheyenne Raiders

Bill’s Whirlwind Finish..... 5

Bill’s Santa Fe Secret......
Bill and the Taos Terror....
Bill’s Bracelet of Gold......
Bill and the Border Baron...
Bill at Salt River Ranch....
Bill’’s Panhandle Man-hunt..
Bill at Blossom Range......

Bill and Juniper Joe........ 5

Bills Winals Scoop.cs222 52.

Bill. at (Clearwaterj.2. 0:60. 5

Burs Winnie, Hands...
Bilis Cinch? Claims 3.33.2 .3-
Bills (Comrades: <6 6.2 2.

 

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499—Buffalo
500—Butffalo
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502—Buffalo
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505—Buffalo
506—Buffalo
507—Buffalo

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Billun*the Bad “tands.. 33..
Bill and the Boy Bugler....
Bill and the Heathen Chinee.
Bill and the Chink War... .
Bill’s Chinese Chase........
Bill’s Secret Message.......
Bill and the Eorde of Her-

CLOTOTOUOUOT

Bill’s Lonesome Trail.......
BHP SU QUAL nc eae eee
Bill ins Deadwood.) 3. ws...
Billig Rirst: Avda. 6 steers 5
Bill and Old Moonlight......
Bill Renal dinsc.. 5 oe 5
Bill's: Dhrowpacky eyes ce ec.
Bill’s “Sight Unseen’”’.......
Bills Newsgbard .c2.c testa:
Bill’s ‘‘Winged Victory”’.....
Bill’s Pieces-of-Hight........
Bill and the Hight Vaquero
Bill's: Uniucky, Siestav... 5
Bil’s Apache Clue...:..-3 2.
Bill and the Apache Totem..
Bill’s Golden Wonder.......
Bills Wiesta ONight cio 2 as
Bill and the Hatchet Boys..
Bill and the Mining Shark...
Bill and the Cattle Barons...
Bilis Wones Odds: 235 cs 5
Bill, the Peacemaker.......
Bill's: Promise to ‘Pay? o. 0.5:
Bill's Diamond, Hitch. 23. 3;
Bill and the Wheel of Fate..
Bill and the Pool of Mystery
Bill and the Deserter....... 5
Bills fsland inthe Air... 2%
Bill, Town Marshal........ 3
Bills Ultimatum 2% sc ae
Bills) Mest inese | sseete eo
Bill and the Ponca Raiders..
Bill’s Boldest Stroke ..... Se
Bill’s Enigma

Bil’s Blockade

Bill and the Gilded Clique..
Bill and Perdita Reyes...... 5
Bill and the Boomers...... :
Bill Calls a Halt... ae.
Bill and the Ke-week Totem.
Billis1 Ox. Keowee ae ae 5
Bill at: Canon: Diablo.c 2...
Billks oPranstericg sc ice eee
Bill and the Red Horse Hunt-

~ eeoreecee

Bill’s Dangerous Duty.......
Bill and the Chief’s Daughter
Bill at Pinaja Wells. oo... 5
Bill and the Men of Mendon.
Bill at Rainbow’s Ind.......
Bill and the Russian Plot....
Billig: Red: Mrtanelen sa. ce 5
Bis Royal wiishs oo. se
BillseDramp: Pardesi vi ss
Bill on the Upper Missouri..
Bills: Crow, Scouts o. -o.. 5
Bill’s @pium Case .......

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