CHAPTER XIV
A RIDE FOR LIFE
Archie had a plan to propose to the wagon-master, and that was that the train should be conducted first to the Old Bear's Hole, and then to Fort Benton. He thought this would be much safer than to attempt a long journey across the plains. The Indians would certainly pass over that road in going from their camp to attack the settlers on the prairie; and it was equally certain that they would discover and follow the trail left by the wagons. If the emigrants were overtaken in the open country, they could offer but a feeble resistance; but if they intrenched themselves in the cave, they could hold any number of their foes at bay. Archie explained this plan to the captain when he found him, and, to his utter amazement, it was rejected without an instant's hesitation.
"I've done nothing but lead wagon trains across these prairies for the last two years," said the man. "I've made a business of it; but I never before heard any thing about Indians on the war trail. You've well-nigh frightened the whole train to death by your cock-and-a-bull story; and, since the emigrants are bound to turn back, I shall take them to Fort Alexander."
"Why, that's farther off than Fort Benton!" exclaimed Archie. "It must be two hundred miles from here."
"No difference if it's a thousand. I don't know the way to Benton, but I could go to Alexander if I was blindfolded. And another thing: wouldn't I look well trusting my own life, and the lives of these people, to a boy like you! I don't believe you ever saw an Indian."
"I've seen more of them than you ever did," replied Archie, indignantly, "and I have had more experience with them, if I am from the States. Mark my words: Before morning, you will wish you had taken my advice."
Archie left the captain and fell back to the wagon of the invalid. "I am much obliged to you, sir, for the use of your horse and rifle," said he, "but I must return them now. The wagon-master is about to undertake a journey of two hundred miles across the prairie; and, as I don't think it a safe piece of business, I am going to leave the train and start off on my own hook."
"Hold on!" exclaimed the man, as Archie dismounted to tie the horse to the wagon. "Where are you going?"
Archie unfolded his plan again for the benefit of the invalid, adding that, as the wagon-master had not seen fit to adopt it, it was his intention to go alone to the Old Bear's Hole, and, if he did not find Dick and Bob there, to strike for Fort Benton. The invalid listened attentively, and, when the boy ceased speaking, announced that it was his determination to accompany him. This was something that Archie had not counted on, and he did not know whether to be disappointed or delighted. The prospect of a lonely journey of ninety miles, through a country infested with hostile Indians, even though there was a bare possibility that he might meet the trappers at the Old Bear's Hole, was by no means a cheering one; and he would have been glad of almost any company except this invalid. If the latter accompanied him, he would, of course, go in his wagon, and that was an arrangement the boy did not like. Its white cover could be seen at a long distance, dark as it was, and if there were any Indians about it would be certain to attract their attention, in which case Archie, to save his own life, would be obliged to leave the helpless emigrant to shift for himself.
"You will let me go with you?" said the invalid, seeing that Archie hesitated.
"That is a matter which you must decide, sir," was the reply. "I do not expect to reach the fort without trouble; and whether or not you will be safer with me than with the train, is a question which I can not take the responsibility of answering."
"I will answer it for myself: I shall go with you."
Upon hearing this, the invalid's teamster, who had sat listening to the conversation, pulled up his horses with a jerk, and, hastily collecting the articles in the wagon which belonged to him, jumped to the ground.
"What's the matter out there?" asked the owner of the wagon. "Why don't you go on?"
"'Cause I am done with you; that's why," replied the teamster, gruffly. "If you are goin' into any sich business as this – philanderin' off over the prairy with that fool of a boy, who will lose you an' himself into the bargain in less'n twenty minutes arter you git out of sight of the train – you can jest drive your own wagon. I am goin' to stay with the emigrants, where I know I am safe."
Every little trouble seems a mountain to a sick person, and when the invalid heard this, he covered his face with his hands and cried like a child. As the teamster was about to move off, he looked up and said, piteously:
"Mike, don't leave me. Remember that I can't help myself, and that I must have some one to defend me if we get into trouble."
"I reckon my life is worth as much to me as your'n is to you," was the rejoinder.
"Don't go yet, Mike; hear what I have to say," continued the invalid. "I have twenty thousand dollars in hard money in this wagon, and if you will go with me, and stick to me until we reach Fort Benton, I will give you one-fourth of it – five thousand dollars. You will certainly run less risk in traveling ninety miles than in going two hundred."
The teamster stopped, and, walking slowly back to the wagon, looked down at the ground in a brown study. Archie, who had watched his face closely, noticed that he listened with indifference to the invalid's appeals to his pity, but at the mention of the twenty thousand dollars, the expression of unconcern on his face gave way to a look of astonishment, and he began to listen more eagerly. This made it plain enough to Archie that, if the man consented to accompany the wagon, it would not be out of any desire to respect the wishes of his employer, or to protect him if he fell into danger, but simply to earn the money that had been promised him.
"If I had twenty thousand dollars, or twenty cents, about me, I should be very careful not to mention the fact in the presence of such a man as he is," said Archie, to himself. "He is a villain – I can see it in his eye; and I hope he will decide to remain with the train. I should feel quite as much at ease among the Indians as I should with him for company."
"You will not leave me, Mike," said the invalid, in a pleading voice. "Didn't I find you in the streets of St. Joseph in a destitute condition, and haven't I fed, clothed, and paid you well since you have been with me? Drive me to Fort Benton, and the five thousand dollars are yours."
"Wal, Mr. Brecker, you have treated me mighty kind, that's a fact; and, now that I think of it, it would be mean in me to desert you. But I don't want to go alone – this boy would be of no account if we should happen to fall into trouble; and, if I can get company, I'll stick by you."
The teamster, without waiting to hear the invalid's profuse thanks, threw his bundle into the wagon and hurried down the road out of sight. He returned in a few minutes, accompanied by a rough, reckless-looking man, with whom he was conversing earnestly. They stopped at a short distance from the wagon, and Archie, who was listening intently, overheard a portion of their conversation. Mike was urging the man to accompany his employer's wagon, and the latter was holding back through fear of the Indians.
"I tell you thar aint no Injuns on the prairy," said the teamster. "That boy don't know what he's talkin' about. The wagon-master says so, and so does every body else in the train, except Brecker, and he's a fool. It'll be the best job you ever done. Twenty thousand dollars aint picked off every bush nowadays."
Archie pricked up his ears when he heard this. The invalid had offered his teamster but five thousand dollars for driving the wagon to Fort Benton, and yet the man was talking as though he had promised him the whole twenty thousand. Archie began to get excited, and believed that the best thing Mr. Brecker could do would be to remain with the wagon train.
"Are you sure that you can depend upon that man?" he inquired, addressing himself to the invalid.
"Who – Mike? Certainly. He is an honest fellow, and I would trust him with my life. Why do you ask that question?"
Archie did not think it best to give a direct answer. The invalid was frightened nearly out of his senses already, and the boy had no desire to increase his alarm by revealing the suspicions that had suddenly arisen in his mind. If Mr. Brecker was willing to trust himself and his twenty thousand dollars on the prairie under the protection of the teamster, it was really no concern of his. If Mike was an honest man, however, he was certainly keeping bad company, and Archie thought it might be a good plan to keep his eyes open and be prepared for any emergency. He was sure that something exciting would happen during the ride to the Old Bear's Hole. While he was thinking the matter over, the two men approached the wagon, and Mike introduced the new-comer as his friend Bob Frost, an old guide and Indian fighter.
"He is just the man we want," said the invalid. "I shall feel safe now."
"In course you can feel safe," replied Frost, with a braggadocio air that made Archie put him down as a coward at once. "Thar aint Injuns enough on the prairy to skeer me. I'll take you through to Fort Benton without no trouble. 'Taint wuth while to have that ar youngster taggin' arter us, though," he added, glancing at Archie.
"Why, he will show us where to go," replied Mr. Brecker.
"We don't need him, and he can't go," said Frost, decidedly. "I know the way to Fort Benton better nor he does."
"I don't see how my presence will interfere with you in any way," said Archie. "It was I who first proposed Fort Benton as a place of refuge, and I shall go there, whether you are willing or not."
Frost had an overbearing air about him, and an insolent way of talking that Archie did not like, and he thought he might as well give him to understand that he was not under his control, and that he should do as he pleased. When the man was about to reply, Mike interrupted him. The two conversed in a low tone for a few minutes, and then sprang into the wagon and drove after the train, which was by this time out of sight in the darkness. In half an hour they reached the prairie, and, leaving the road, the teamster turned to the left and drove along the edge of the willows toward the Old Bear's Hole.
The cover of the wagon was open at both ends, and Archie could see every move the men made. They drove rapidly for awhile, and then, allowing the horses to settle down into a slow walk, entered into an earnest conversation. The invalid tossed about uneasily on his bed, now and then raising the cover of the wagon, and looking out over the prairie to satisfy himself that there were no savages in sight, and, becoming impatient at length, desired the teamster to drive faster.
"'Taint safe," said Frost, who seemed to have taken the management of affairs into his own hands. "The faster we go the more the wheels rattle; an' if thar are any Injuns about, the noise will lead them to us. I say, youngster! Mebbe it would be a good plan fur you to ride on ahead, an' see if the way is clear."
Now, this was something that Archie had no intention of doing. He had already marked out the course he intended to pursue, and one thing he had determined upon was, that he would not for a moment lose sight of the teamster and his friend. He thought too much of his own safety, and, besides, he wanted to be at hand to protect the invalid; for he was sure that he would need somebody's protection before many minutes more had passed over his head. He knew, as well as if had been explained to him in so many words, that the men had determined to take possession of the twenty thousand dollars, and that the guide's suggestion, that he should ride on in advance, was but a plan to get rid of him. Perhaps, the moment his back was turned, Frost would send a ball into him; or, it might be, that it was his intention to lose him in the darkness, and then dispatch the invalid and rob the wagon. Archie did not know which of these two courses of action the men had decided upon, but he was resolved that neither of them should prove successful.
"Did you hear what I said, youngster?" exclaimed Frost, angrily.
"Oh yes, I heard you."
"Then why don't you start – why don't you obey orders?"
"Well, I have two reasons. In the first place, I do not recognize your right to give any orders; and, even if I did, I should pay no attention to them, as long as you issue them in that insolent tone of voice. In the next place, if it is all the same to you, I prefer to ride behind."
"Then you can stay behind. You can jest toddle back to the wagon train."
"I am not going that way. My route lies in this direction."
"Wal, then, travel on ahead," roared the guide, growing angrier every moment. "We don't want you hangin' about us no longer."
"Oh, don't send him off," cried the invalid. "He is going to show us the way to a safe hiding-place."
"You need not be at all uneasy, Mr. Brecker," said Archie. "I have not the least intention of leaving you alone with these men."
"Haint you?" exclaimed Frost. "Mike, pull up them hosses. I'll soon fix him."
The time for action had come, and Archie was ready for it. As the teamster stopped the horses, and Frost leaped to the ground, he rode up to the wagon, and, thrusting his hand under the cover, pulled out the invalid's revolvers. He knew just where to find them, for he had seen their owner place them beside him on the mattress, where he could seize them at an instant's warning.
"What's the matter?" cried Mr. Brecker, in great alarm. "What are you going to do with those pistols?"
Archie could not stop to reply. He grasped a revolver in each hand, and covering the teamster's head with one of the weapons, pointed the other at the guide, who at that moment came around the end of the wagon. The former dropped the reins, and turned pale with terror; but Frost, who was in too great a hurry, and too highly enraged to notice any thing, ran up to Archie, and seized his horse by the bridle.
"Now, my lad," said he, savagely; "climb down – "
"Take your hand off that bridle!" interrupted Archie.
Frost now looked up for the first time, and seeing the shining barrel of the six-shooter leveled full at his head, uttered a cry of alarm, and staggered back as if he were about to fall to the ground. The man who boasted that he had never seen Indians enough to frighten him, was thoroughly cowed by a sixteen-year-old boy.
"Drop that knife!" commanded Archie, and the bowie which the guide held in his hand fell to the ground instantly. "Look out there, Mike! I am watching you, and if you attempt to pick up a weapon it will be the last of you. Now, Frost," he added, waving one of his revolvers over the prairie in the direction he supposed the wagon train to be, "make tracks. Don't stop to talk, but clear out at once. Mr. Brecker and his money are safe while I am about. Why don't you obey orders? One – two – "
The guide did not wait to hear any more (he was afraid that when the "three" came out, a bullet would come with it), but hurried off at once, and without uttering a word. Archie kept one of his revolvers pointed at him as long as he remained in sight, and then turned to the teamster.
"Now, Mike, it's your turn," said he, giving emphasis to his words by pointing both his weapons at the man's head. "Jump down from that wagon, and follow your partner. When I count three, I am going to send two bullets over the seat on which you are now sitting."
Had Archie fulfilled this threat, the bullets would have passed through the empty air; for Mike, taking him at his word, leaped to the ground and walked off, shaking his head and muttering to himself. That part of the work was done, and now came a more difficult task, and that was to quiet the invalid, who seemed to be on the point of going into a fit of hysterics. Archie soothed him as best he could, assuring him that the danger was passed, and that there was nothing more to be apprehended from the would-be robbers, but his words seemed to have no other effect than to increase the invalid's agitation. The boy did not know what to do; and, while he was considering the matter, the reports of rifles suddenly rang out on the air, followed by a chorus of savage yells which made the cold chills creep all over him. The Indians had overtaken and attacked the train. As quick as thought Archie dismounted, and after tying his horse to the wagon, sprang into the driver's seat, and seized the reins and whip.
What happened during the next two hours Archie could scarcely have told. He tried many a time afterward to recall the incidents of that wild ride, but all that he could remember was that he clung to the reins with one hand, and swung the whip with the other, until his arm was so tired that he could hardly raise it to his shoulder; that the spirited horses never broke their mad gallop from the time they left the willows, until he checked them on the banks of a little creek, twenty miles from the base of the mountains, where he stopped to obtain a few minutes' rest; that the heavy wagon rocked and groaned like a vessel in a gale of wind, as the frantic horses dragged it over the prairie, up one swell and down another – bounding over buffalo wallows and gullies, which at any other time would have effectually checked its progress; – he remembered this as if it had been a dream; and when he came to himself, he was sitting on the ground beside the wagon, the horses were standing knee-deep in water, and the invalid was staring at him with a bewildered air, like a man just aroused from a sound sleep.
"Where are we?" asked the latter, in a scarcely audible voice.
"We seem to be in a grove of willows on the banks of a creek," replied Archie; "but how long we have been here, and how we came here in the first place, I scarcely know. What is that noise?"
Archie was himself now, and all his senses were on the alert. He heard the tramping of horses' feet on the other side of the willows, and, jumping up, he clambered, into the wagon and seized the whip; but the jaded horses refused to move. One of them lay down in the water, and before Archie could compel him to get upon his feet again, the willows on the bank were dashed aside, and a company of horsemen came into view. They were not Indians, however, but cavalrymen from Fort Benton.
CHAPTER XV
CONCLUSION
When Adam Brent saw the outlaw preparing to jump down upon him, he gave himself up for lost. He was not able to defend himself from the assault of that strong man, and neither did he expect assistance from any source; and when he saw the panther spring from his hiding-place among the rocks, and fall with Black Bill to the bottom of the cave, he was so amazed and bewildered, that, for a moment, he could scarcely believe the evidence of his eyes. He forgot Black Bill, and every thing else, in the reflection that he had passed a portion of the night in the cavern with that savage animal, and that he had slept while his glaring eyes were fastened upon him. Regardless of being seen by the outlaws, he looked over the bowlder, and watched the struggle that was going on below. He had never witnessed so desperate a fight before, and, although he was intensely alarmed, he retained his wits sufficiently to notice that the panther was getting the best of it, and that he was in a fair way to clear the cave of his enemies. The bullets which Black Bill's friends had fired at him, if they had hit him at all, had only served to render him more furious.
When Adam first looked over the bowlder, the combatants were tumbling about on the ground, the men using their knives, and the panther striking right and left with his claws, and growling fiercely. In a moment the scene changed. Black Bill was lying motionless where he had fallen; one of the outlaws, with his face terribly lacerated, was rolling about, uttering piercing cries of pain and terror; the other, who was the only one uninjured, was trying to climb up the sides of the cave out of reach of his dangerous antagonist; and the panther was crouching low on the ground, looking toward the passage-way, where stood a couple of trappers who had entered unobserved.
"Send a chunk of lead into the critter, Dick; thar's my game," said Bob Kelly, pointing toward the prostrate form of his old enemy.
The panther, lashing his sides with his tail, sprang into the air, but was met half way by a bullet sent by an unerring hand, and fell dead almost at the feet of the old trapper, who ran into the cave, and bent over Black Bill's motionless figure; while Dick collared the uninjured outlaw, and held him fast.
"We're too late, Dick," exclaimed Bob, after he had taken one glance at his insensible foe. "I've waited an' watched fur him all these years to be cheated at last by a painter. The critter's done the work fur him."
Dick's prisoner seemed astonished beyond measure at the sudden appearance of the trappers. He never thought of resistance, but readily surrendered his knife, and begged lustily for quarter. His captor looked at him with an expression of great contempt on his honest countenance.
"You're a purty feller, to lead wild Injuns agin peaceable tradin'-posts, an' then when you're ketched ask fur quarter, aint you?" he exclaimed. "If me an' Bob were like we used to be, all your hollerin' an' beggin' wouldn't do you no 'arthly good whatsomever; but we lived among white folks a good while, an' we've larnt that thar is law, even on the prairy, fur jest sich fellers as you. We'll take you to Fort Benton, that's what we'll do with you, an' if you aint hung fur your meanness, I shall allers think you'd oughter be. Hallo! Come down from thar, you keerless feller!"
The trapper had discovered Adam looking at him over the top of the bowlder. He thought it was Archie, and he was a good deal disappointed when he found that it was not. He asked a good many questions concerning the missing boy, but Adam knew nothing about him. Archie had left him while he was sitting by the fire in the soldiers' quarters, running bullets, and he had not seen him since.
"Never mind," said Dick; "he'll turn up all right yet. He's got a heap of sense, that little feller has, an' grit, too; an' they'll bring him safe out of any scrape he can get into. Now, where's Frank, I wonder? The last time I seed him that hoss of his'n was carryin' him through the ravine like a streak of lightnin'. It would take two or three sich men as I be to watch that oneasy feller."
Dick shouldered his rifle, and hurried out in search of Frank, while Bob, after binding the prisoner, busied himself in setting things to rights. In half an hour the Old Bear's Hole presented a scene that was a cheering one to our weary fugitives. The fire was burning brightly again, the body of the outlaw had been removed, and all traces of the fight which had taken place there but a few minutes before, were concealed by the leaves which the old trapper had pulled out of the lower passage-way and spread over the floor of the cave. Dick had returned with Frank, who was so jubilant over his success that, for a long time, he could talk about nothing else. He felt particularly proud of the result of the race he had just run. Roderick had fairly vanquished his swift rival, and Frank, after a protracted rough-and-tumble fight, had overpowered and bound the Black Fox. The young hunter now lay stretched out on the ground in front of the fire, one hand supporting his head, and his eyes fastened upon his prisoner, who sat sullenly in a remote corner of the cave. Adam lay near him, watching the movements of the trappers, one of whom was engaged in cutting up the elk, and the other in superintending the broiling of several steaks, which he had placed on the coals. In the corner, opposite the entrance, sat the outlaws – the remnant of Black Bill's band. The one who had been wounded during his fight with the panther, was too severely injured, and too thoroughly cowed by the presence of the trappers, to attempt escape, and consequently he was not confined; but the others were bound hand and foot.
"Things are comin' out all right at last, aint they?" said Dick, turning the steaks with his knife. "If I could only see Archie settin' somewhere about this fire, an' could hear him laughin' an' goin' on like he allers does, I should be jest as happy as I want to be. A good many of the fellers that left the Colorado with us we'll never see agin, but I'll bet a hoss that we will find every one of our crowd at Fort Benton, when we get thar. I come out without a scratch, an' so did Frank an' Adam; Bob, here, has got a hole in his head, made by a tomahawk, an' another in his arm, made by a bullet; but he's as sassy and full of fight as ever."
"Did you recognize Bob when he was playing the part of medicine-man?" asked Frank.
"Sartin I did. I've knowed the ole feller since I was a boy no bigger nor you, an' I've seed him when he looked wusser nor he did in that doctor's dress. I knowed I was safe the minute I seed him come into the village."
"How did you obtain possession of that disguise?" inquired Frank, turning to the old trapper.
"Easy enough. Arter Dick was captured, I hung around the camp in the edge of the woods, waitin' fur a chance to do something fur him. I happened to meet the medicine-man, an', thinkin' that I could make better use of his rig nor he could, I jest knocked him over."
The supper, which Dick now pronounced ready, did not put a stop to the conversation, for there was much to talk about. Adam told what had happened at the cave during Frank's absence, and the latter described his adventures, from his unsuccessful attempt to liberate his cousin down to the time he met the trappers in the ravine. Dick and Bob were astonished at the reckless courage he had exhibited. The former, as usual, called him a "keerless feller," and Bob declared that he would make a trapper "wuth lookin' at." Then Dick told how he had seen Bob captured while they were cutting their way out of the fort, and how he had gone into the camp in the disguise of a wounded Indian to assist him in making his escape. When he liberated Archie, however, he found that Bob had already eluded his enemies; and, after wandering about the camp until he found a rifle which he could take possession of without attracting attention, he returned to his horse, which he had left hidden in the bushes, and soon overtook his chum, who was on his way to the Old Bear's Hole.
When the boys had satisfied their appetites, they lay down on the leaves and went to sleep, while Dick set out in search of Archie, leaving Bob to watch the boys and the prisoners during his absence. He was gone all day, and when he returned he was not as hopeful as when he left in the morning. He had met no Indians, he reported, but he had seen the ruins of a wagon train, which had been attacked and burned. If Archie was with that train, the probabilities were that they would never see him again.
After another hearty meal on venison, the fugitives set out for Fort Benton, accompanied by their four prisoners – the trappers on foot, and the boys and the wounded outlaw riding the horses. They traveled all that night, and at noon the next day arrived within sight of the walls of the fort. The very first person they saw was Archie Winters, who galloped out on the chestnut-sorrel, swinging his hat around his head, and shouting like one demented.
"Not one of our crowd is missing now," he yelled, when he had embraced his cousin and Adam, and shaken the trappers warmly by the hand. "Captain Porter and Mr. Brent came in last night. As I live, there's my horse, which I never expected to see again. And isn't that Pete? Hurrah for every body! except the Indians and the outlaws."
Almost the first thing the cousins discussed was the race between Roderick and King James. Archie listened attentively to his cousin's story, and when it was concluded he said, in a tone of voice which showed very plainly that he was not yet willing to give up beaten:
"The speed of a horse depends a good deal upon the driver. I know that the Black Fox was riding for his liberty, but I don't believe he made King James run as swiftly as I could, if I had been on his back. But, since you were kind enough to recapture the horse for me, I will settle the matter by riding a race with you at the very first opportunity – that is, if you say so."
"Of course I say so," replied Frank. "Archie, you do crawl out of little holes when you are cornered, don't you? I'll beat you so badly that you will never boast of your horse's speed again."
Although the boys were very jubilant, and often congratulated one another on the good fortune that had attended their "crowd," they still had much to be sorry for. Of the twenty trappers who had accompanied them across the plains from Fort Yuma, only seven remained. More than one brave fellow mourned the loss of his chum, who had fallen by the hands of the Indians, and the boys heartily sympathized with them, one and all. But still the expedition was not abandoned, and neither was the departure from the fort long delayed. After a consultation with the trappers, Captain Porter decided to pass the winter on the Saskatchewan; and the morning of the third day after their arrival at the fort, found the cousins ready for the journey. Archie took leave of the invalid, who, to show his gratitude for the services the boy had rendered, offered him half his twenty thousand dollars; and when Archie declined to accept, he insisted on presenting him with his horse and rifle. The expedition was as well equipped now as when it left the Colorado, for the captain had procured a supply of weapons, traps, pack-mules, and provisions from a trader who happened to be at the fort.
"Good-by, Adam," said Frank, who stood with one hand clasping his friend's, and the other holding the impatient Roderick by the bridle. "We have seen some stirring times during our short acquaintance, and you will not be likely to forgot us soon, will you?"