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Lorsque le document est trop grand pour dtre reproduit en un seul clich6, il est film6 d partir de Tangle sup6rieur gauche, de gauche d droite, et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre d'images ndcessaire. Les diagrammes suivants illustrent la m^thode. 1 errata d to It le pelure, con d n 1 2 3 32X 1 2 3 4 5 6 i A BRUSH WITH THE HALF-BREEDS. -n • • i^H Ev • • YOUNG NEWSPAPER SCOUT. An iiitere^itiiijT narrative of .• i boy'w nrl ventiirets in the Northwest durinj^ the Kiel Rebellion. BY KORRESl" ORISSEY. \A, w M Author of "A I.ODI GiRL," *' THK YOUNG EXPLORER," • • • I-' I v^ • • • • CHICAOO: W. R. CoNKEY CorvmANY. 1805. •O v--" >w' O'^ R 6>'yf yc. Copyright 1802, by MID-("ONTlNKNT PUBLISHING ("QMPANY. Copyright 1895, by W. B. rONKEY COMPANY. '% PREFACE. THIS book is written by the author in the belief that boys enjoy best those stories which are truest to real life in characters, plot and coloring. It has seemed to him that their interest in a " hero" who has the faults and limitations of "a good average boy," acting under environments of ordinary impor- tance and probability, is keener than in an impossible prodigy of juv^enile wisdom and courage who finds iiimself in a complex tangle of stupendous difficulties, from which he frees himself by a series of daring adventures sufficiently melodramic to appal the "heavy villain" in a third-rate tragedy. The boy who has a single real adventure, in the usual juvenile acceptance of the term, is a rare exception, for in oiihvard circumstance and perils most boyhoods are commonplace enough. What, then, shall be said of the books which picture their boy heroes as suffering from an epidemic — a veritible cholera-infantum — of material perils? Certainly they are not true pictures of boy life as an average, or even as an average of reasonable exceptions. It is to be doubted whether the time has come when the mass of story-reading American boys can 8 PREFACE. # I be vitally and surely interested in a true picture of •'average "boyhood; but the author does believe that boy readers are bright and keen enough to derive greater pleasure from the account of the struggles of a boy of only average qualities against odds and obstacles of reasonable number and diflficulty, than from the narrative of the "adventures" of a boy of impossible virtues, triumphing over perils which, both in character and number, could in no human probability have surrounded one boy in ten-thousand. The author does not imagine that he has given in the following pages a true picture of the vicissi- tudes of an average boyhood; but he hopes that the adventures of "The Young Newspaper Scout/' are fairly representative of the character, perils and triumphs of the "average of exceptions" which lift the lives of frontier boys from the lines of uniform common place in which the careers of most boys are spent. He is at least confident that his readers will not find a single "situation" in the following story which is not justified by reasonable probability. More than that, he believes that the same justifica- tion of probability will apply to the story as a whole, both in the environments and situations with which Rodney found himself surrounded and in the action which they called forth. Geneva, 111. F. C. CONTENTS. c. CHAl'. I. II. III. IV. V, \l. \ 111. IX. X. XI. XII. XIII. XIV. XV. XVI. XVII. XVIII. XIX. XX. VAC.E In Desi'f^ratk Stkaits \) A Ni:w IIoi'K 14 FoKTUNic OK Wak '2(i Pkoud Pki:i'Akati()N's 'X\ A liRUSH WITH THK I Ialk-Ukkiids , 40 A FiKRCK Battlk at Fish Ckkek r)2 The Lost Child (54 A Foraging Expedition 77 An Indian Am hush 92 Under Double Fire. Camp Scenes 101 109 The Rout of the Rebels 117 In at the Capture 127 On the Trail of Big Bear l.'J4 The Cache, 14.3 The Night Alarm 15:J The Return ir)2 An Independent Venture A Small Footing A Great Triumph ,170 179 .188 a ILLUSTRATIONS. PAGE A Brush with the Half-Bkeeds Frontispiece. Rescue of the Lost Chilo ^.j The Foraging Expedition 9,j 'Hands Up!" j.,. Pink-eve's Revenge ^n The Great Find j,y The Camp Scene on the Traii. oe Bk; I^kak i.-»9 Rodney Shows his Mother Old Pink-eve and his Rifle and Saddle i.^o lirj Rodney and the Chicago Newsijovs 177 "Dear Sir -Come at once; will pay you S200 and expenses" ,(,., CHAPTER I. IN DESPERATE .t TRAITS. IT was almost sunset of an April day in 1885, when Rodney Merton came a^ain in si^lit of Ft. QirAp- pellc, after the first nights of absence from home that he had ever experienced. lie had left his mother's cabin early Monday morning and it was now Wednes- day. His eyes brightened as he stopped in the mid- dle of the dusty road and tja/.ed at the little hamlet, with its old log fort surrounded by a high palisade, the new post of the Hudson Bay Company and a cluster of cabins. Now that he was once more in sight of home — which he mentally declared had never " looked so good" to him before — he felt that he could afford to sit down and rest for a few minutes. This was a luxury which he had allowed himself but few times during the two day's tramp from Grenfell, a distance of thirty-five miles from Ft. Qu'Appelle. His coat was hung on the end of a stick, carried over his shoulder, and his calico shirt was dark and wet with perspiration along the lines of his buckskin sus- penders and wherever it touched his heated body, for it was the first really warm day of the late spring. As the boy turned out of the road and climed a 9 10 THE YOUNG NEWSFAPKR SCOUT. '!! i I little knoll, which commanded a better view of the town, his steps were slow and dragging, and he frequently pressed his right hand upon his knee, as though his tired legs, which had become sore and aching with the long walk, were unequal to the task ot carrying him to the summit of the rise. Dropping upon the ground under the flickering shade of a IJalm of Gilead, he stretched out at full length, and with an involuntary sigh of relief, pulled the smooth-worn visor of his home-made fur cap down over his eyes, and lay for a time in motionless repose. Not until a kingfisher rattled his harsh challenge and dove, from the limb of a dead tree down into the still w.iter of the Qu'Appclle river, did Rodney stir. The guilty terror in which he started up, just as the bird splashed into the water and rose with a small fish in its mouth, would have convicted him of having been asleep, even though he had not rubbed his eyes and yawned. Then he sat for a moment, with his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands, looking dreamily at the shimmering river and the little trading post where his whole life had been spent. His return from this first solitary journey into the world seemed a greater event to him, after his three days absence, than home-coming from years of foreign travel has seemed to many an adult. He wondered what had happened while he had been away and what his mother and the boys about the fort would say to him. IN DESPERATE STRAITS. II If the object of his expedition to Grcnfell had only proved successful he would have felt like a conquering hero, returning to his native town, ready to receive the admiration and the applause of the inhabitants. But absolute and hopeless failure had been his lot and he felt like sneaking unnoticed around behind the fort and post to his mother's cabin, instead of taking the main street. He did not, however, long entertain this suggestion, for the thought of doing anything underhanded or sneaking went very much "against the grain" and made him suffer severely from remorse and self-contempt wherever he yielded to such an impulse. After a few moments of gloomy meditation, Rodney aroused himself, drew from his pocket a Winnepeg paper and re-read, for the third time, the account of the Duck Lake massacre in which the Half Breeds and Indians had inaugurated the Riel Rebellion. It was a bloody protest against wrongs w hich bore heavily upon nearly every poor family in the Saskatchewan and Ou'Appelle Valleys, and especially upon Rodney Merton and his weary over- worked mother. Some years before, Thomas Merton, along with a few other hardy and courageous pioneers, had come to the valley and settled upon Government land, in the full faith that, by enduring the hardships and privations necessary in reclaiming the wilderness, he might secure a comfortable home for himself, n his old age and for his family. He and his companions li !!l 12 THE YOUNG NEWSPAPER SCOUT. had, worked early and late in this hope, only to find, after fifteen years of unrelaxed struggle, that the Government still refused them the titles to their homesteads. Here Rodney had been born. He began early to share the hard labor and the priva- tions of pioneering and had grown up to the age of fifteen. Discouragement, resulting from the convic- tion that they would never have their home "free," and the exposure to the extremes of the severe climate broke down Thomas Merton's courage and health. After a lingering illness, which had lasted through the winter, he died, leaving Mrs. Merton and Rodney to finish the hopeless struggle for a home as best they might. During previous winters, Rodney had been under the instruction of the local priest and had made rapid advancement in studies of which most boys of his age knew little or nothing; but this fall he had been obliged by his father's illness to do almost a man's work. In addition to cutting the wood and doing all of the chores, he had managed to keep quite a suc- cessful string of traps in operation, and when he drew his pack of pelts on his hand-sled, down to the Hudson Bay post it seemed almost large enough to buy out the whole stock. But as Leveque the local agent in charge, told him that there were forty dollars due the company from his father, after crediting up the furs, he went home with a heavy heart. "We've got to pay it off some way, even if you have to work it out," his mother had said, in the I IN DESPERATE STRAITS. 13 •I hopeless tone in which she had come to voice her few words. "All right, Ma I'll do it if Leveque will take me in," Rodney had promptly replied. This was fol- lowed by offering his services to Leveque, who kept the boy during the busy season, until the family ac- count was settled. Then he told Rodn'^y that he did not need his help longer and that in the future Mrs. Merton would be obliged to pay for whatever supplies she wished to buy. Hard times began in earnest after this dismissal, and it was by only the most patient industry and persistent watchfulness that Rodney contrived to keep his mother and himself in food. When the last hope of obtaining employment near home was gone, he had bravely set out to look for work of any kind in Grenfell. Now he was returning, after having met with unvaried failures and rebuffs. CHAPTER II. ii;:i I'll 1 ill I iil A NEW HOPE. AFTER thinking these matters all over again, Rodney picked up his coat and stick and again resumed his journey. He had walked but a few rods when a boyish whoop burst from his lips at the sight of the tents of the regular troops, on the side of the river op- posite the town, which had before been shut off from his view by a strip of timber. As he approached past the old fort, he noticed that it was occupied. A group of smaller boys were crowding about the entrance to the stockade and staring at the men inside. " Who are they ? " Rodney inquired of the spell- bound youngsters. "Scouts! " was the whispered answer, from half a dozen of the awed half-breed children. Not until then had he realized that he was in the presence of war. The fighting at Duck Lake had seemed very far off in the cold newspaper type. It made his blood leap to watch the scouts cleaning their ** Snyders " and revolvers; and he found him- self wishing that he might enlist with them. B'lt as he turned away from this fascinating sight u A NEW HOPE. IS 5pell- half sight and continued his homeward walk the thought, which had not occurred to him while watching the scouts, flashed through his mind; they were his en- emies, fighting to continue the oppression which had broken down his father and which promised to turn his mother and himself from the home for which his father sacrificed health and life itself. If he were to join cither side it must be that of the settlers. He would talk it over with his mother that night. If he could only enlist as a drummer boy or " something of that kind," his pay would support his mother, and he might win promotion by his bravery. Then when the war was over and the fol- lowers of Riel were victorious, he would be given a position as captain of the mounted police. He was picturing to himself how he would look entering the through-train from the east, demanding satchel keys from unwilling passengers, and ordering his men to " go through " the baggage and search the suspicious characters for smuggled liquor and goods. He could even hear the imaginary clink of glass flasks as his subordinates dashed them out of the windows and shattered them upon the ground. ''Look out! Want to run right over a lot of us small folks!" good-naturedly exclaimed a genial loafer, whose tilted chair, in front of the post, Rod- ney had almost overturned in his heedless course. Rodney blushed and stammered his apologies^ while the hangers-on joined in the laugh. "Well; what luck?" asked Leveque, who came to the door behind an out-going customer. i6 THE YOUNG NEWSI'APKR SCOUT. il !ii RckIiicv simply shook his hc.ul. "h^li-ha! sorry!" meditatively {ijruntccl the apjcnt, as Rt)dney passed on up the hill toward home, think- iu'^ that it' Leveque were really very sorry he would ^"ive him work. As Rodney came around the corner of the cabin, Mrs. Merton was dipping spoonfuls of yellow corn- meal dout^di from an old basin on to the board which lay in front of a populous hen coop, and stood watching the downy balls of chickcnhood as they picked impotently at the wet meal in imitation of the coaxing mother hen, which set them a noisy and excited example. She started at the sound of his quiet approach, pushed back her sun-bonnet, and smiled for almost tlic first time that he could remember since his fath- er's death. "Well; ma!" he exclaimed, as he came awkwardly and almost bashfully toward her, wondering whether or not she would kiss him. He was going to ask: "Did I scare you?" but he did not have time before she dropped the basin and spoon, and without say- ing a word kissed him impulsively. There followed amoment of embarrassing silence, which was finally relieved by Rodney, as he picked up the fallen basin and rapped its edge, with a startling bang against the board in front of the coop. "WeliK' said his mother, in the hopeless tone which plainly implied "I know the worst has hap- pened." "No; I didn't" get anything to do, ma. But I 1 A NEW HOPE. cjiicss it'll come out all ri^lit, somehow. Any\\a\' they've had an awful firjht at Duck Lake, and Rii I's men cleaned out everything. I broucjht you a Win- nipeg paper that's ^ot all about it in." Mrs. Merton looked at him in dazed astonish- ment, wondering what he could possibly mean i)y connecting the news of the bloody outbreak with the hope that their hard fortunes would finally mend. "Have't you heard about it, yet? Why the oUl fort's full of scouts now." *'Yes, I heard they'd ben a fight, but I don't see what that's got to do with it," replied Mrs. Merton. Seeing that the time was not yet ripe to discuss the daring project of joining the Rebels as a drum- mer boy, Rodney made no reply, but went to the spring to wash. Mrs. Merton quickly resumed her usual manner and said: "Supper's ready — what they is of it." The startling expression of affection into which Mrs. Merton's emotions had betrayed her, on seeing her boy safely home again and the hopeless anc^ almost ironical suggestion in regard to the meager limitations of the supper affected the boy more keenly than any other words he had ever heard. The latter aroused him to the realization that they were in desperate need for the common necessities of life, while the caress awakened an intense and active love for his mother that he had not been con- scious of before. A painful sense of the pitiful mis- ery and loneliness of her life and the patient en- durance with which she met each day of its weary U): i8 THE YOUNG NKWSrAI'KK SCOUT. i !i':' !l:! Ill I I ■' .' Ihi,' 1;:: •!i ii lIMl i ii' ill- I'l I II iii and hopeless continuance came over him. A new purpose and courage took possession of him. He would not only take heart himself and in some way keep her from want and get the homestead clear, but he would have courage for both her and himself and make her feel that she was going to be taken care of. As they sat down to supper Rodney said: "Ma, don't you 'sposc that Riel has scouts just the same as the Government has?" " 'Course. I sh'd think so, anyway. Don't the paper tell?" she answered, absently. After a moment's reflection, she added: "Why?" "Oh! nothing; — only I just heard one of 'em tel- ling old 'Two-cent* that the Government paid 'em five doUais a day and furnished their rifles an' rations." "Goodness! Well, if Riel does that he might better take the money that it costs an' buy the set- tlers' claims for 'em, outright. He might a good deal better never have begun the fight, anyway. 'Taint no use, an' everybody'U be poorer an' worse off when it's over; an' there'll be more widows an' hungry children in these valleys than they is now. It would be a mercy all 'round, if Riel should be captured an' the whole thing ended before it goes any further." This suggested a new line of thought to the young would-be Rebel scout and he said no more until the evening meal was finished and he picked up his hat from the door step. A NEW HOPE. 19 "Ma! I'm goin^ clown by the fort. Mcbby I can pick up some odd jobs or errands to do for the sol- diers." Mrs. Merton offered no objections to this, and he slipped out of the door and scampered down the hill to where the scouts were quartered. His Hying feet .ere left far behind by the speed of his thoughts. If his mother's view of the rebellion was right — and he had never before thought to ques- tion the correctness of her moral judgment — it might be right to get some kind of a place with the govern- ment scouts, for if the rebellion was bound to end in defeat for the settlers, and it was a mercy to bring it to such an end as quickly as possible, why should it not be right for him to contribute to help bring about such an end by joining the government forces? But against this line of reasoning came up the memory of his father, the injustice he had suffered, and the desperate resentment against such oppres- sion, which had grown more bitter with every year of his life. The boy's heart gave a quick leap at the inward question: If father were alive upon which side would he fight? Rodney could not evade the answer: With Riel. By the time he had joined the men and boys in front of the post, his mind was a confusion of con- flicting theories, in which the thought of finding an errand to do was entirely lost. At one moment duty and honor seemed to forbid him, in spite of his 20 THE YOUNG NEWSPAPER SCOUT. li'ii,!' li'll:!: M m !li I: II i|:r i!- mother's hopeless view of the struggle, to do any- thing that might identify himself with those who had oppressed his father and neighbors, or to hin- der the possible triumph of the settlers. Then the vivid recollection of his mother's words and of her present needs would fully justify to him the most active opposition to the Rebels of the Saskatchewan. Without definitely settling the question, he re- solved to ask old '• Two-cent Tranquility," more about the scouts. He found the shrewd old shoemaker at his bench, playing a lively tune upon the top of a scout's boot, with his pegging hammer, while his fingers per- formed that mysterious sleight by which the pegs seemed to flow from his bench, through his mouth into the awl holes in the tap. Although the men, women and children of Ft. Qu'appelle, who did not habitually speak French un- varyingly, cheapened Toussaint Tranquilite's name into "Two-cent Tranquility," they held the old shoe- maker in the highest esteem and regarded him as not only a marvel of shrewd, practical common sense, but second to the priest only in the wisdom of books. He was a kind of village premier or privy councilor for the majority of the inhabitants. His kindly and companionable nature, and his keen sense of fun extended his popularity to the children of the hamlet and made him the sharer of, perhaps, more of their secrets than any other adult person in the village. He nodded to Rodney and jerked his hammer A NEW HOPE. 21 out in the direction of n leather-bottomed stool, which Rodney took and waited until the cobbler's lips were released from the mechanical duty of holdinj^ pegs, and were set at liberty for conver- sation. "Well, my son, did you find anythinjj^ to do?" in- quired the shoemaker, as he deftly "stropped" his thin, pliant knife-blade on the leather alontj the ed^e of his bench and proceeded to pare the edj^es of the tap. "No, sir; nothincj." "Well, I wish you was a journeyman cobbler; so I do! I'd give you plenty to do while the soldiers are in camp here. Just look at that pile of boots to be patched! Then I've got three pairs of fine cavalry boots to make." "But," he continued reflectively, as he rubbed the edges of the tap with a small swab dipped in a bottle of black stain; "it's a sorry thing all round! A sorry thing, my son! It'll only make a bad matter worse, for of course, every man who lives through the fighting will be deprived of his rights and property. No use for a man ^^'ho has fought with Riel to stay round in these parts after this jig is over. He'll stand no chance for anything." This put matters in a new light with the boy, who had not thought but what, if he should join Kiel's forces and live through to see his side defeated, he might return to peace on the same ground that he had quitted it. This new consideration seemed al- most to determine his future course, for he asked. 92 TllK YOUNG NEWSI'AI'KK SCOUT. Illll'i I'll "How much did you say the Govcrnmcrit pays those scouts?" "Five dollars a day and found — all but their mount. That's a lot of money, son! Wish you could get a job like that for awhile." "Do you know how old they have to be?" asked Rodney in a timid voice, as thou<^di he e.xpected to be rei)roved for the audacity of the thought which his question would surely betray to the shoemaker. "Twenty-one, of course. Hut you needn't think for a minute that your mother would let you join. She'd starve first." This was what the boy had expected and he did not have the coura^^e to press his inquiry directly in regard t(» the possibility of his securing a i)osition as drummer-boy, but said: "Don't you 'spose there is .sv?;;/iV///V/^ that a boy could get to do for the scouts — something that mother might let me do?" "Well, mebby. It wouldn't do any hurt to hang around there a little. You might pick up chances to run errands now and then. Those fellows are mighty free with their money. It comes easy and goes easy. Now you take those boots down to Cap'n. French an' if he don't give you a tip, I'll make it right with you myself. They're paid for." Rodney took the boots by their straps and went down towards the old fort with the elation wliich comes of settled purpose. He was admitted within the palisade but was compelled to wait for Captain French, who was ,;^lil A NEW IIOI'E. 23 enfja^cd inside the fort. A j^roup of scouts were loun^nn^ about an open fire, story-tellill{.,^ j(jkin^\ lauj^liin^ and sniokin^, as tlioui^h their prospective danj^ers were mere bu[j-a-l)oos, and scouting the best sport in the world. He listened intently to what they were sayiiij^ and final])' ventured nearer the j^roup, that he niij^dit miss nothiuLj of their talk. "Foutid a man yet? I should say not!" exclaiiuid a younyf man who did not seem to ha\e exactly a soldierly air. "An* I've ^ot to ^et hold of some sort of fellow who knows enouidi about this valley to carry my dispatches without gettini^ lost or cap- tured. Every able-bodied man around here is either with the rebels or getting a scout's {)ay from the government. I' spose I could pick up a fairly good man if the paper would allow me to spend that price; but it won't go over half that at the outside. If the fighting begins right away, I'll have to take up with half a man if I can't get a whole one. If I could pick up some fellow who has hunted and trapped along this river till he knows every crook and turn of it and every road and town in the valley, he'd be worth money to me, and I'd put in something out of my own pocket, for I've just got a commission for some special correspondence for the London papers, an' I'd have this fellow act as a private scout as well as to carry my dispatches to the wires." Just then Captain French came up to Rodney, glanced sharply at the bottoms of the boots and with a "Well, my lad," handed out a quarter. 24 THE YOUNG NEWSPAPER SCOUT. Ill,' I'jif k III' w: The delight which would otherwise have filled Rodney's mind at this bit of good luck was dimmed by the excitement of alternating hopes and fears which confronted him, as he considered the possi- bility of securing the position of private scout for the newspaper man. He would have hung about the campfire until the group broke up, in the hope that he might find just the right opportunity to speak for the place, but he did not dare remain, now that his business was done. He resolved to hasten back to the shoemaker, put the matter before him, and ask his aid in secur- ing the position. When he reached the shop he found it closed. "Two-cent" was across the way, in front of the post, giving the crowd the benefit of his philosophy upon the situation. Rodney knew that it was hopeless to attempt to secure a private audi- ence with him that evening, for it was already get- ting late. There was nothing more to do but to go home and talk it over with his mother. What a fortune even two dollars and a half a day would be! And then if the newspaper man should be willing, after awhile, to give something out of his own pocket, that would be "too glorious for any- thing!" Then he called to mind just how much and how little he knew of the valley, and felt a tinge of fear and disappointment as he realized that although intimately familiar with the country for a few miles immediately surrounding the fort, the valley as a whole was comparatively unknown to him. He was glad that he could say that he had been to A NEW HOPE. 25 Grenfell. It might have considerable weight with the man. When he reached home his mother had gone to bed; but she wakened sufficiently to ask: " Did you -get any errands to do?' "Yes, 'm," he replied, "Captain French gave me a quarter for bringing his boots from the shop." His determination to talk over the newspaper- scouting project with his mother weakened at the sound of her hopeless voice and he resolved to con- fer with the shoemaker and possibly to see if he could get the place before saying anything to her about it. He did not realize how very tired the long tramp from Grenfell and the excitement of the even- ing had made him until he kicked his pants off on the floor and stretched out, at full length, upon the bed. For some time his legs ached so that he could not sleep; but his mind was so filled with the great crisis of his career that he gradually lost conscious- ness of his pain and finally sank to sleep in a splen- did dream of really going to war. It' 111 CHAPTER III. 'M liiii' n'v ■ 'hi 'I A FORTUNE OF WAR. Rodney was awakened early by the drawling crow of a neigbor's rooster, for the monarch of Mrs. Morton's flock had long since been sacrificed to the family necessity along with such of his feminine followers as were not promj'lt in their daily contribu- tions of eggs or engaged in rearing broods of chicks. He bounded to the floor and was inside his pants in less time than it takes the average bo}^ to dress for a circus, and with much the same feeling of in- tense and joyous excitement which such an antici- pation usually inspires in the juvenilo mind. He ate his breakfast of corn-cakes in silence, and even neglected some of his chores in his haste to see the shoemaker and secure his good offices with the newspaper man. The sight of the white canvas tents and stacks of glistening arms of the "regular" troops, about which a uniformed line of pickets were pacing to and fro upon their beats, gave Rodney a more thrilling sense of the actual presence of war than even scouts had in their more unpretentious and plebeian dress had inspired. abandon, not leap( )oyi slackening his speed until at the very door of the shoemaker's shop. "Why, what's the matter, son?" exclaimed "Two- I A FORTUNi: OF WAR. 27 rawling of Mrs. d to the cminine ontribu- chicks. is pants to dress g of in- i antici- silence, lis haste I offices I stacks 3, about £^ to and thrilling^ n scouts m dress on, not )r of the cent," as he saw the boy's ae^itation. "Anythiii<^ the matter with your mother?" "No — I — I— I just came to talk with you about something that I had heard down at tlie camps last nii^iit," stammered Rodney, panting and out of breath. "Well, out with it!" good-naturedly commanded the cobbler, as he rolled a waxed-end upon his knee. "There's a newspaper man down there with the scouts who has been looking for some man who lives about here and knows the valley, to carry dispatches and act as his 'private scout,' as he called it. l^ut he hasn't found anybody yet, for he says that the '^len in the valley who are not with Riel want to join French's scouts and get their five dollars a day, and his paper can't pay more'n half that. Ikit he says that he's got to have half a man if he can't find a whole one, and that if he could get some one who had hunted and trapped up an' down the river till lie knew the country like a book, he'd be willing to pay something extra out ot his own pocket. Do you s'pose there's any chance for me — if— you helped me, to get it? Don't you think that I might learn how to do it?" Rodney timidly inquired. "No, you can't learn! If he takes you at all it'll be for what you already know an' don't have to learn. There ain't any time for learning anything except on the run. But there's one thing about it; most of the fighting that these fellows will see is going to be done right around these pnrts. I don't see why you wouldn't answer his purpose as well as IIIM- I'- ll P! ini!-! M0 liiliHy 1111;'' 11 P 1 li M ii ,' m li in: 28 THE YOUNG NEWSPAPER SCOUT. somebody who would set heavier on a horse, eat more an' be enough sight less gritty, honest an' willing than you." Praise was something that Rodney Merton had known but little of; and these words from so impor- tant a personage as "Two-cent Tranquility" made the boys cheeks burn. This commendation gave him courage to ask: "Would you be willing to go down, this morning, if it wouldn't be too much trouble, and see him about it." " 'Course, I'll go!" the cobbler almost snapped, as though the request contained an implied insult. "Didn't your father an' I summer and winter together for years when this country was new; an' didn't we always share up on anything an' everything that we had when the other was short?" As soon as he finished tipping the waxed-end with a bristle, he hung it over a nail, took off his leather apron and said: "Well, come on." They walked on towards the fort in silence, Rod- ney being too much elated to trust himself to talk, until they approached the entrance of the palisade, when he ventured to ask: "Will you do — do the talking, Mr. Tranquilite?" "Yes," laughed the shoemaker. "I always do that — too much of it, I'm afraid." "Can we see the newspaper man, who wants to engage a private scout?" boldly demanded "Two- cent" of the guard. ■1 s 4 w Hii A FORTUNE OF WAR. 29 "That's him, leaning against the door jam," re- pHed tlic guard, pointing to a slightly-built, but graceful young man, who appeared to be about thirty years of age. There was a certain fineness in the whole cast of his face, and especially in his large brown eyes, which was in rather striking contrast with the broader and less expressive faces of the scouts who came and went about him. This expression of refinement gave the anxious, shrinking boy an added hope that his application would at least be given a kindly hearing. "Good morning, sir," said the shoemaker, advanc- ing toward the young correspondent, who returned the cobbler's salutation with prompt and easy cour- tesy, and the inquiry: "And I may call you — ah — ?" "Tranquilite — Toussaint TranquMite — and this young man is Rodney Merton. We heard that you wanted to engage some one who is familiar with the country about here." "Quite right," nervously interrupted the news- paper man. "My name is Gilroy — of the Mojitrcal Post. I presume it is your father who wishes to apply for the position?" he continued, glancing keenly into Rodney's face. "No, sir. I thought that — that — perhaps — " The shoemaker anticipated the apologetic ex- planation which Rodney was about to offer, and cut it short with the interruption: "Not at all, sir! His father is dead, and he is now the head of the family, which he has mainly sup- 30 THE YOUNG NEWSPAPER SCOUT. ii! ported by trapping, during the winter. If you don't mind I'd like a word with you in private, an' then I'll go back to the shop an' leave you to talk it over with him." "Certainly, Certainly," politely responded the stranger, as they turned and walked away a few rods from Rodney, who stood in nervous embarrassment, awaiting the most important decision that he had yet been called to face. When the two men finished their private confer- ence, in which the shoemaker praised the lad's courage, intelligence and honesty, they came back to where Rodney stood poking a gravel stone with the big toe of his bare foot. A glance at their faces told Rodney that a prob- able decision had been reached, but he could hardly determine whether it was favorable or unfavorable. "Oh, one thing more!" exclaimed Gilroy, as Rod- ney's sponsor was about to take his leave. "What about price? How much do you think our young friend should have? I can pay a fair price, but, of course, there's nothing fancy in it." "No, I suppose not," reflected Tranquilite. "Un- der the circumstances I should say that the lad ought to be worth a good three dollars a day to you, if he does as well as a man." "Well, perhaps," was the correspondent's equiv- ocal answer, as he nodded good-bye to the man and turned his keen eyes upon the boy. For several moments he said nothing, but stood stroking his moustache in deliberation. 4 i :>u don't 4 in' then ' *M : it over 1 dcd the cw rods issmcnt, •1 had yet confcr- ^H ic lad's ne back %\ )nc with ■ M t a prob- ■■[i d hardly /orablc. -f as Rod- ^J "What ir young 2, but, of ■i\^ c. "Un- 'm thc lad y to you, ' :'s cquiv- ,: man and " r several ■V king his .:-:^ M A FORTUNE OF WAR. 31 "And so you think that you want a little of the fortunes of war, do you?" "Yes, sir." "You are not forgetting that you will be exposed to practically the same dangers that these govern- ment scouts are, and that they are sent into the most exposed positions doing flanking and out post duty in order to lessen the danger to the regular sol- diers?" "No, sir." "Well, then, if you've made up your mind to go into the thickest of it, if necessary, and take every- thing as it comes along with the chance of never returning — I'll take you, and pay what your friend suggested." If Rodney had yielded to its natural impulse he would have jumped into the air and "yelled." But he controlled his emotions and simply answered: "Yes, sir. When shall I come?" "To-morrow; for there's no telling how soon we may be ordered out of here. By the way, have you a pony?" "No, sir." " Nor any money to get one with?" " No, sir," Rodney answered reluctantly as though he were a trifle ashamed to make the confession. " Well, then, I'll have to scare up some kind of a mount for you. Suppose you come around this after- noon and see what luck I have in finding something that you can ride." " V/ithout waiting for a reply Gilroy turned and 32 THE YOUNG NEWSPAPER SCOUT. ^ II iii:' ifV entered the quarters, while Rodney bounded out of the stockade and toward the cobbler's shop to carry the news of his wonderful fortune. The kindly old man shared in the boy's joy, while claiming the credit of having been the princi- pal means in securing it. "If this trouble will only last long enough, you'll be able to buy out the whole town," he laughingly remarked. As Rodney went out of the door, wondering how his mother would receive the news which he must break to her, Tranquilite called after him: "Son, if your mother don't take to the plan, just you tell her to come and talk with me." This was a great relief to Rodney who began to fear that the most difficult obstacle was yet to be en- countered in securing her consent to the undertak- ing. He felt sure, however, that, if it came to the worst, the shrewd old cobbler, with his reputation for good sense, would somehow convince his mother that it was best to let him go. i!! lilt , CHAPTER IV. PROUD PREPARATIONS. AS Rodney approached their cabin and saw his mother bending over her wash tub, "doing out" some clothes for the officers, his heart gave a leap of pride and joy at the thought that very soon he would be able to relieve her from the necessity of such hard work. "Ma — I've — I've got some news," Rodney an- nounced, with many inward misgiving as to how she would receive it. " Well," replied Mrs. Merton, stopping her rub- bing long enough to scrape the perspiration from her forehead with her dripping forefinger. "There's no lack of news these days — goodness knows — such as it is. But if you've got some good news I'd be thankful to hear that." Fvodney had become accustomed to the hopeless- ness which long years of unavailing struggle and sorrow had fastened upon his mother until it had become inbred in her every tone and word. But her dejection this morning seemed greater than usual and had a touch of desperation in it which mater- ially raised his hope that she would accept any alter- native that promised relief from the grind and press- ure of their poverty. 83 34 THE YOUNCl NF.WSrAPF.R SCOUT. "I've liad ati offer of three dollars a day." "Three dollars a day!" she rei)eated in astonish-* ment, her face flushed with j;r:ater animation than he had seen it exi)ress in years. Then a quick shadow passed over it as she iiuiuired, " 'Taint to join the scouts, is it, Rodney?" "No — not exactly. It's to carry messaj^fcs an' wait on a news[)aper man, who is ijoincj alonj^ with the scouts, to write up the Rebellion for the Toronto and London papers. Mr. Trani[uilite ^ot the chance for mc an' I'm to get three dollars a day and all expenses — horse an' cverythincj, as long 's the war lasts. Mr. Gilroy — the newspaper man — wants me to come back an' help him pick out a mount for me this forenoon." He felt a strong pride in using the word "mount" instead of horse; it sounded so "military." "Well, there aint any time to lose then. It's most ten now. You better hurry." With this she again plunged the shirt, which she had been rubbing, into the suds and dismissed the matter and him as though the occasion were as commonplace as an errand to the post for family supplies. Rodney had expected opposition and tears on the part of his mother and this kind of a reception was so different from what he had anticipated that he was nonplussed, not to say almost disappointed. Could it be that his mother loved him less than he had thought and she could let him go to war with scarcely a moment's hesitation or regret. This latter f ijlji I PROUD PKKPAKATIUNS. 35 thoui^ht, it must l)c confcssod, toiichctl his pride as well as liis aflccticjii. It hurt him to think that lie should be t/(tii(///v i\vini^ fo icar without even his own mother reali/iii^^ the di<^niity and the danj.jer (jf the occasion, which, it seemed to him, should impress everybody. y\s he turned to ^^o back to the fort his mother called after him: "Rodney, now look sharp that they don't put off any vicious brute onto y'. Git a L,^entle one." lie found Gilroy in front of the fort looking at a collection of horses. They were not as slightly as could be wished; but Rodney realized that there might be times when this would be the least neces- sary qualification. The resemblance of one of them, which had a ponderous white Roman nose, tattered ears and Albino eyes, to a picture of a cow-boy's steed which he had seen in the Youth's Compcinion, at once determined his choice. The story which ac- companied the illustration had described the cow- boy's bronco as a shining example of courage and endurance, and had detailed the brute's heroic con- duct in an exciting Indian fight on the plains. This resemblance determined him to select the pink- eyed, Roman-nosed shaganappy if the choice was left to him, "Well, which one takes your eye?" inquired Gilroy. •* I think the spotted one with the big nose,'* Rodney replied. "The boy's head 's level," spoke up Captain 36 Tlii; VoUNd NEWSI'AIT.K SLUUT. I''rcncli who liad (luictly joined tlic spectators to the nej^^otiatioiis. "1 know that liorse. He used to be ill the mounted police. I le'll thrive where a com- mon horse will starve. (), he's a stayer. Knows more than lots of police I've seen, and is just as handsome, too!" This brought a liearty lau^di from the scouts and made Rodney feel that he was getting on well for a bei^dnning. "How old is he?" inquired Gilroy of the Captain. "Oh, he's of age, anyway. 1 never counted his teeth. Always rather count his ribs — so much hand- dier, y' see." "All right, I'll take him, if you think he's safe for the boy," said Gilroy, as he handed the halter to Rodney, whose heart swelled with conscious pride as he led his horse past a group of the village boys, who now seemed strangely young and insignificant to him. Rodney spent the remaina of the day in groom- ing his pie bald treasure and in packing the meager bundle that was to constitute his outfit. It gave him an honest, manly pride to have Leveque call him into the post and say: "Now if there's anything you want to fit out with, or anything your ma wants while you're gone, you can have the credit for it." Rodney would have liked to refuse this offer of credit from the man who had denied it to him and to his mother when he was out of employment, but he knew that his mother stood in immediate need PROUU rkKl'AKATIONS. 37 of many thin{.^s and that lie would be fjreatly ashanieil to report lor duty without shoes and stockinj^s and dressed in his present "best clothes" which were little better than a faithful and variegated collection of patches. Consecpiently he was oblij^^ed to swallow his pride and accept the offer of credit. When clothed in a suit, stockings and boots he felt that he had left boyish things behind him and had entered upon the serious affairs of life. He did not ^o to bed until late that ni^dit, and when he did it was in a different fashion than usual. Instead of kicking a pair of tattered trousers from legs, that had been bare-footed all day, he took off his boots and stockings with manly deliberation and hung his long trousers by the strap in the back with a dignity becoming one who had re-established the family credit, and who was going to war as a private newspaper scout on a salary of three dollars a day, and a horse that he might call his own. He looked carefully about his loft and tried to realize that it was probably the last night that he would sleep in it for many months — perhaps forever. When he went to sleep, it was in wondering whether people would not sometime visit that loft to see where General Rodney Merton, the famous scout of the North West, had slept when a boy. His mother called him bright and early the next morning, and when he reached the stable to take care of Gilroy's horse and his own, he found that he was in advance of the earliest scout. After Gilroy had lighted his after-breakfast pipe, 38 THE YOUNG NEWSPAPER SCOUT. I'iili'iii.illli |!!i(i!l'!'i'"!ii he called Rodney, and motioned him to a seat upon the grass. "Be back in a minute," the newspaper man ex- plained as he disapeared into the quarters. When he again appeared, he carried a repeating rifle and a belt in which were hung a pair of new six-shooters, a knife and a field glass. " Now lad," said Gilroy as he handed them to the astonished boy, "You want to learn how to use these trinkets, and how to take care of them. And what's more you've got to learn all the discipline that a regular scout is under — just what every command means, and how to obey it. I've arranged with Lieu- tenant Johns to teach you all he can until we get marching orders. Theu you'll have to fall in line with the rest and make the best you can of it. Here he comes now, ready for business. Pick it up as fast as you can, for you can't tell what bit of information is going to let you out of some tight scrape when we get into the fighting. Lieutenant, this is Private Scout Rodney Merton — ready to be taught how to steal pigs and chickens and strip dead Injuns of their finery when the Captain's back is turned." With this introduction, Gilroy went inside to write to his paper the important news that had not happened, and left Rodney to his first lesson in the art of war. After the noon mess, Rodney and his teacher again resumed their drill. Suddenly a clear blast of a bugle, from the en- campment of the regulars broke the quiet of the PROUD PREPARATIONS. 39 little hamlet. It sent the chilling thrills through and through Rodney, for he knew that it was the call to mount and march. !!!lp":!!! "■% CHAPTER V. A BRUSH WITH THE HALF BREEDS. iiiiii'ii;!!! ^|liii;!l?i !! ■i||i|!IMl)l|i !ll&^*'!l ALTHOUGH Gilroy had told Rodney that they might be ordered to march at any time, the sudden summons to mount was a great surprise to him, and it gave him a shock when he realized that he would have no opportunity to say good-bye to his mother; for by the time he had saddled Gilroy's horse and executed the other orders that his em- ployer ]iad given him, the entire company of scouts was ready to move forvva^'d. As the scouts were to precede the regular troops, the order to march was promptly i^iven, and they set off at an easy canter. Rodney strained hi.5 eyes to catch a glimpse of his mother and wave her a farewell if she should chance to be observing the movement of the scouts. Just as he was passing nearly out of sight of the old home cabin, he saw her come out of the door and go to hanging out doches, with her back turned toward him; and he could scarcely choke back the tears at the thought of leaving her without even a farewell, when perhaps he might never see her again. However, there was too much keen excitement close about him to permit these gloomy reflections to long occupy his mind. 40 ,m A BRUSH WITH THE HALF BREEDS. 41 t at they me, the )rise to sd that -bye to jih'oy's lis em- scouts troops, id they apse of should scouts. the old and go turned ick the even a ;ee her itement lections % The sight of thirty mounted horsemen is alone sufficient to chase all other thoughts out ol; a healthy boy's mind; but when those horsemen are galloping out to war, and the boy mounted on his own horse with his rifle slung over his back and his revolvers in his belt, is one of their number, any feelings save swelling pride and a tremendous excitement are plainly out of the question. Rodney was riding well at the front, between Lieutenant Johns and Gilroy, and as he turned in his saddle and glanced back over the galloping company of horses, at the regiments of "regulars," with their artillery, splendid uniforms and perfect movements, as they were just leaving the site ut their recent camp, he could scarcely suppress a boyish yell of admiration. '* Oh, it's glorious! " was his mental exclamation at the stirring sight. There was nothing to break the train of his ex- ultant reflections until they had been several hours on the march, and the chafing of the saddle began to make itself felt on the tender surface of his legs. This irritation increased with each mile of travel, until Rodney was finally compelled to curl one leg up over the horn of his saddle, in feminine fashion, in order to secure a change of position which would temporarily relieve the blistered parts. This left the unoccupied stirrup dangling loosely. Suddenly a loud grunt announced the presence of a pig in the stunted brush by the roadside; and before Rodney could change his position a small 42 THE YOUNG NEWSPAPER SCOUT. razor-backed hog dashed almost in under the feet of the foremost horses. Instantly Rodney's horse wheeled, kicked, plunged and broke ranks in a way that not only promised to unseat its rider in the most unceremonious fashion, but also threatened to interrupt his soldierly career before it had fairly begun. Finding that its violent buck-jumping failed to dislodge it. rider, the pink-eyed Shaganappy resolved to try a new maneuver, and "lit out" down the road, in advance of the scouts, at a steeple-chase pace. " Pity he ain't in the Derby — he'd take the stakes sure! " exclaimed Gilroy, as he watched Rod- ney's wild ride with a greater anxiety than his words indicated. The horse and its clinging rider disappeared over the top of a wooded hill, the empty stirrups thresh- ing the animal's sides at every plunge. But Rodney clung to his seat with the grip of desperation. At last, as the brute's pace began to slacken from fatigue, or the conviction that it had mistaken the staying qualities of its rider, he suc- ceeded in again getting fairly astride of the saddle. The runaway then seemed to realize that it was ouce more under bridal control and prepared to yield the contest and settle down into obedience; but Rodney was not disposed to accept the surrender on these terms. Turning "Pink-eye," as, by common impulse, the horse had come to be named, about, Rodney regained his flapping stirrups and gave the I A BRUSH WITH THF. HALF BREEDS. 43 animal as smart a ride back to the advancing com- pany as the runaway had made in. its first dash. He was greeted with a round of cheers as he again fell into rank. "You won't have any more trouble with that old Shaganappy. He knows you are master now;" remarked Captain French, in a way that did Rodney as much good as the cheers of the others had done him. By the time that the company reached Clark's Crossing Rodney had come to feel quite at home in the saddle, and the ride began to seem a trifle weari- some and monotonous. He would not admit to himself that he wanted any fighting to occur; but he cherished a secret longing that something excit- ing and warlike would happen. He had his wish. Gilroy touched his elbow and said: " You see those horsemen along the crest of the hills, there? Well; they're Reil's scouts." Rodney raised his glass and watched them, with the thrilling sense that it was the first sight of the enemy. Just then the captain was heard detailing Lieu- tenant Johns to take a squad of twenty men and make an effort to capture the outriding Half Breed scouts. Rodney wondered if Gilroy would order him to go with the skirmishers; but Gilroy seemed to entire- ly forget, in the prospect of the excitement, the pres- ence of his private scout and dashed away with the 44 THE YOUNG NEWSPAPER SCOUT. Ijll , >.|, detachment without a word or a glance to indicate what he expected of his assistant. Only a moment did Rodney hesitate; then he followed hard on in the tracks of his superior, vn secret fear that the latter would discover his presence and send him back to the main company. After a sharp ride of a couple of miles they halted under cover of small woods for a momentary con- sultation, during which Rodney was careful to keep as many horsemen and bushes between himself and Gilroy as possible. It was decided to divide the men into two equal detachments, one of them to ride openly upon the half-breeds, the other to take a circuit and come up in form to surround them when retreating or under fire. Gilroy waited with the party which was to lead the attack. When a sufficient time had been allowed for the others to make their longer circuitous advance, the remaining squad pressed on to the edge of the woods, from which the Half Breeds could be seen only a few hundred rods distant, sitting quietly on their ponies and calmly watching the other body of the government scouts further down in the valley. They had not detected the approach of Lieutenant Johns' detachment. " Now tor a sharp dash at them. If they halt to fire, do the same, and give it to them until the other boys come up behind and cut off their retreat," was the command. m A BRUSH WITH THE HALF BREEDS. 45 was Then the signal to charge was given and the twelve government scouts, including the news- paper force, leaped their horses out of the conceal- ment into full sight of the astonished squad of Rebels, which Rodney hurriedly estimated to he about eight in number. The latter did not even pause to fire an opening r.?1'itr but wheeled and galloped toward the cover of the next stretch of woods as fast as their ponies could carry them. " Put 'em through!" shouted the lieutenant, and the scouts urged on their horses until they rode breast to breast, with only Rodney, who contrived to keep close behind Gilroy, in the rear. The race was more spirited and exciting than even Rodney's dreams of a charge had pictured. He had never ridden so fast in his life before, and it seemed to him that they must be going almost as fast as a railway train. As he had never been aboard one of the latter while it was in motion, and had formed his estimate of their speed mamly in watching them across the prairie at a considerable distance, it was not wholly strange that the long, sharp, straining leaps of the animal under him should seem almost as fleet as the trains. As the horses' speed increased, he began to wonder what would happen if they were obliged to stop short. Before he could reach any conclusion the scouts problei upon tl speed and fire. ^ean ^ 46 THE YOUNG NEWSPAPER SCOUT. "Crack! — crack! -crack!" went one repeater after another. Rodney watched the fleeing Half Breed?, expect- ing to see f^everal of therfi reel from their saddles; but they did not. After some fifty rods of even more desperate riding, the scouts evidently considered themselves within rifle range, for they drew their horses to a standstill, and began firing, almost together, with a deliberate aim that sent a couple of the Half Breeds' ponies stumbling upon their knees. But they regained their feet and plunged on more furiously than before. Rodney became so absorbed for the moment in watching the effect of the shooting that he lost thought of everything beside. When he returned to consciousness of his surroundings, he saw Gilroy's horse breaking toward the enemy at terrific speed, leaving the scouts rapidly behind. A moment's observation convinced him that Gilroy's horse, which ae knew had never been under fire before,, had become unmanageable. Would it carry the helpless correspondent so close to the half-breeds that they would pause long enough to shoot him down at short range? Then the thought flashed through Rodney's mind that they would be less likely to attempt such a move if Gilroy were not alone, and that he must catch up with his employer and lessen the danger by sharing it with him. Then there might also be a chance that, by riding close alongside Gilroy and seizing 1 I ■k A 15KUSI1 WITH TIIK HALF nKKEDS, 47 er after ixpect- addles; operate iselves ;s to a with a Breeds' igained than the l)it of the hiUcr's liorsc, he ct)ukl briiiij the ter- rified animal to a halt in time to save its rider. The f^reat question now in the boy's mind was not how he should stoj) his own horse, but whether he could overtake Gilroy before they were fairly upon the heels of the Half l)reeds. He jabbed his spurs fiercely into the sides of Pink-eye and the latter responded with a sudden ex[)enditurc of reserve speed which well ni[(h took Rodney's breath. In less time than he had dared lo hope the Roman nose of Pink-eye was alongside the flank of Gilvoy's horse and in a second more they were neck and neck. Rodney was about to attempt his desperate plan of seizing Gilroy's bridle, when one of the Malf Breeds wheeled his pony about, raised his Winches- ter and sent back a bullet which dropped Gilroy's horse upon its knees. Without a word from him Rodney's horse came to a stand still within a few rods from where Gilroy had been thrown. How the horse accomplished this feat without shooting him from the saddle was more than Rodney could understand. Only a horse with a long training in actual cavalry service could have done it, he was sure. But there was no time for him to speculate upon it then; there was too much pressing business close at hand. The same scout who had dropped Gilroy's horse was "pumping" the empty cartridge-shell out of his Winchester, ready for a second shot. 48 THK YOUNG NKVVSPAPER SCOUT. Scarcely knowing how he did it, Rodney leaped from his horse leveled his rifle across his '-addle and fired. The rifle which had a careful brad upon Gilroy dropped from the Half Breed's hands and discharged harmlessly as it fell. The wounded man shouted to his comrade, who were some distance in advance of him and they faced about and opened up a lively fire upon Gilroy and Rodney. The former had succeeded in getting back to his horse without being struck by any of the ballswhich whistled about him in a rapid succession as the Half Breeds could pump their Winchesters. Finding that his horse was severely wounded, Gilroy quickly drew his revolver and put the animal out of its suffering by sending a bullet through its head. He then threw himself at full length on the ground and using the dead body of the horse as a barricade and "rest" for his rifle, proceeded to return the fire of Rebels with an accuracy which was impossible to them, mounted upon their panting and exhausted ponies. Rodney was also intrenched behind hisShaganappy, which stood as motionless as though being carried or caressed. If the range between the dueling parties had not been so great probably both would have suffered severely, but the singing of the balls close about them, and the loss of Gilroy's horse were the nearest approaches to fatalities which the newspaper scouts sustained. Nor could they see that their shots, aside from the fortunate hit made by Rodney's first ball, had any effect upon the Half Breeds. However, A BRUSH WITH THK •AI.F BRKEDS. 49 the wound that Rodney tlicn inflicted upon the dar- ing spy no doubt saved Gilroy's life, for tlie two were in close quarters and Giiroy presented a fair and unprotected target for the llalf J^rceds aim. Meantime Lieutenant Johns and his men j2^alloped rapidly forward to Gilroy's relief, and when in line with him, halted and joined in the intcrcstinff fire with which he was plying the Rebels. Mad the lieutenant's object been to drop as many of the enemy as possible he would have charged the Half Breeds; but as he only wished to check their retreat until the other detachment of scouts should appear, the distance answered his purpose as effect- ively as nearer range. Suddenly from out the woods a couple of hundred rods in the rear of the defensive party, came in view the other ten government scouts. A quick charge down the hill brought them in range of the Half Breeds, who were thrown into confusion by this unexpected rear attack. Without waiting for the second party to come within close range, they lost no time in giving the word of surrender and brought to a speedy close Rodney's first experi- ence under fire. After the prisoners had been disarmed, and all save the one whom Rodney had wounded securely bound, Giiroy grasped Rodney's hand, exclaimed: " My lad, that first shot of yours was a lucky one for me — and a plucky one, too! It saved my bacon sure as you're alive. I supposed you were back there with the others, where, by good rights, you 50 THK YOUNfi NICWSrAPKR SCOUT. oiij^ht to liavc l)cci). Hut I'm tiii^lity j;l;i(l. ;is tlunps turned out, that you were oti IkuuI; and I shall not lorj;et tliis turn, either." just then Lieutenant Jolins hiid a liearty hand on Roihiey's shouhler and exchiimed: " Woy, you're a l)rick! Never saw a f^rittier piece of business in my lifel That's what I call j^ooii fij^htinj^r. You couldn't have done better if you'd been an old hand at it. You did the ri<;ht thini; at the ri^ht time. If all of my men do as well I'll i)e mi^dity thankful - that's all I can say. You plunked that scjuaw-man just in the niche of time." Rodney blushed under this praise, and when lie could speak replied: " It was all so quick that I don't hardly know how I happened to do it." "Of course! That's the way it always is in this kind of fighting. No time for fine figuring. And the men who can grasp the situation and do their work before they know how it's done are men we're looking for. No, sir; there wasn't any fool fighting in that little brush!" "Was the man badly hurt?" asked Rodney in a tone which betrayed the hope that he had not in- flicted a serious injury and the fear that his shot might have been fatal. " Hit him square in the right shoulder. You punished him well for his recklessness; but I guess he'll pull through all right. He's back there grit- ting his teeth pretty hard," replied the Lieutenant Johns, with a levity that made Rodney shudder. A imUSH WITH TUV. IIM.V HKF.KDS. '^l "If you please, I'd like to let him li i\c ni)' horse to ride hack on," said the boy. " Well, that's what I'd call—" Hut the lieutenant did n(jt finish the sentence. However, Rodney had the satisfaction of seeinjj^ tl; ^ man whom he had wounded, liile back on okl I*ink-eye; and after they reached camp the tender- hearted boy not only devoted every possible mo- ment to makinL,^ the man as comfortable as his injuries would i)ermit, but also suffereil, in keen sympathy, the pains which, through tlie inevitable fortunes of war, he had inflicted. CHAPTER VI. A FIERCE BATTLE AT FISH CREEK. THE scouts were joined at Clark's Crossing by the regulars, and the camp presented a very impos- ing and warlike appearance, at least to Rodney's eyes. The story of his courageous conduct in the capture of the prisoners evidently went the rounds among the regulars, many of whom had cheerful greeting for him, treating him as nearly like a com- panion and an equal as men can treat boys. But the intimate companionship which sprang up between the newspaper correspondent and Rodney was the greatest satisfaction that had yet entered into the life of the shy, quiet boy. In a few confidential chats by their own camp- fire, Gilroy drew the boy out and discovered that his intelligence was equal to his courage and faith- fulness and that his knowledge of good books and the things best worth knowing was far in advance, both in range and thoroughness, of that acquired by the average boy under the best educational en- vironments. " I'll tell you what's the matter, Captain," said the correspondent to Captain French; "that lad's got sound parts. He's lived in that little frontier town and picked from a priest and his library more real culture than I had, at his age, after attending 52 A FIERCE BATTLE AT FISH CREEK. 53 one of the best private schools in England. All he needs now to make him a broad man is the worldly wisdom that he'll get in knocking about the world — and I guess he'll pick that up fast enough. Anyway I mean to do the square thing by him. I believe he's got the making of a good newspaper man in him." It was enough for Rodney to know that Gilroy seemed to like him and gave him the hearty good fellowship that only an adult companion could have expected. It was something to which Rodney had never dared aspire. It seemed to Rodney that he had never listened to anything quite so interesting as Gilroy's account of the great newspaper offices that he had visited and their wonderful printing-presses. Rodney purposed to ask more about these, but the exciting events which followed the division of the troops, on the third day at Clark's Crossing, put all but present events out of mind for the time being. As it was impossible to tell upon which side of the river the Riel forces would be encountered, the troops were divided equally between Lord Melgund and Gen. Middleton, the former proceeding on the north side of the river, while the latter scoured the south shore, the scouts coming under the command of Lord Melgund. The additional number of troops in the march- ing columns, the presence of the uniformed regulars and the hourly expectation of coming upon the "■:' Pi ill; 54 THE VOUNfi NEWSPAPEK SCOUT. enemy, made the march full of excitement to Rod- ney. It was not until the third day out of Clark's Crossing that the sharp, crackling reports of mus- ketry, on the opposite bank, told that the enemy had been engaged by Gen. Middleton's division. Then anticipations leaped to fever-heat on every hand. Rodney had often speculated upon the feel- ings of a soldier about to enter an engagement, and had come to the secret conclusion that, while a worthy soldier would not shrink from the deliberate hazard of his life, he would " look death in the face" and mentally prepare himself for the worst that might happen. It was almost impossible for him to realize that the men about him vrere expecting to be in the thick of battle within the next hour. The Half Breed boys at the fort had never been in more jovial spirits in anticipation of a game of bailor a wrestling match than were these ligh-hearted sol- diers. It was only by an analysis of his own feel- ings that Rodney could judge the emotions of the others. It seemed to him that probably many of the men would be shot, but not himself. He ac- counted, however, for his own comfortable personal view of the matter by the fact that he would prob- ably be in a safe place, and not exposed to the dan- gers like the others. The appearance of a couj)le of aides, riding at greatest speed over the crest of the hills, on the op- posite side, was the signal for a burst of cheers. Before their arrival, Rodney watched the A FIERCE I5ATTI.E AT FISH CREEK. ^=; ^c^unners train tlicir cannon from the brow of the bluff upon the spot where the Half Breeds were sup- posed to be ambushed. It made the boy crinc^e \(\ watch the effect of the balls from the bii^ <^un, as they crashed through the trees that oj)posed their passatj^e. Before many dischar'ou hang on and beat them down long enough. When you get through, come back here." Rodney went to the house wondering that Gilroy should have so easily abandoned his intention to secure the supplies without bargain and sale. As Gilroy expected, Rodney was greeted by the watch dot haste to cut off Gilroy's retreat. Meantime he drew his revolver from its holster and prepared to open fire upon the do*,^ when it should seem necessary. He could see that the dog was gai.iing upon Gilroy, but the distance between himself and the dog was to(j great for him to hope for any effect with his revolver. A sudden splash, followed by a loud (jxclamation, told Rodney that his partner-in-crimc had suffered some sort of a mishap. There was evidently no time to lose, and Rodney fired a trio of shots in rapid succession at the dog. One of these evidently chanced to take effect, foi dog gave a howl of pain and the hiicd-maii yelled: '* Let the feller go! Let him g'-> — or you'll kill the dog an' me too." The terrified farm hand then called the dog off, and the courageous brute went limping unwillingly back to a place of safety. As the hired man disappeared into the distant shadows, Rodney hitched Pink-eye and hastened to Gilroy's assistance. " Look out ! " exclaimed the latter, " Don't you get into the same slew hole that I'm stuck in. I'm most up to my neck here ! " I li IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-S) /, % ^ /.^ &r 1.0 I.I 1.25 2.5 2.2 I.'- m U ill 1.6 P> <^ .%. /a °> > v: ^%.T*j% .'>'*" '^' o;i M Photographic Sciences Corporation 33 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 872-4503 M 90 THE YOUNG NEWSPAPER SCOUT. " But I'm ^oincj throuj^li, just the same! And I've j^ot that chicken all ri^ht, too! — 'live or die, sin k or swim, survive or pcnsl Rodney could not contain his amusement at the plij^ht that Gilroy presented on at last making nis way on to dry land. He had fallen flat into the mire, and the entire front of his person was dripping with the thick, black grime of the bog. Gilroy surveyed himself for a moment, and then joined Rodney in merriment at his own expense. "You must have swallowed considerable of it," said Rodney. " Yes," responded Gilroy, " I bit the mud but ust be LTcttinc: nut of not the dust. Now we m this." "Mow's that for high?" he again exclaimed pointing with pride at the two lambs hiying in front o f h IS sa ddle. and enjoyin