IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) /. {./ ,o ^, :/j 1.0 I.I 1.25 S jlIM M 2.0 1.8 1.4 1.6 ••s- ^ ^>W m. c. €W 'V/ ^^* \> V^ /a y /A Photographic Sciences Corporation ^ ip \ ^ ( meaning "CON- TINUED "). or the symbol V (meaning "END"), whichever applies. Maps, plates, charts, etc., may be filmed at different reduction ratios. Those too large to be entirely included in one exposure are filmed beginning in the upper left hand corner, left to right and top to bottom, as many frames as required. The following diagrams illustrate the method: Un des symboles suivants apparaltra sur la dernidre image de cheque microfiche, selon le cas: le symbole —^ signifie "A SUIVRE", le symbols V signifie "FIN". Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvent dtre liSmds d des taux de reduction diffdrents. Lorsque le document est trop grand pour dtre reproduit en un seul clich6, il est filmd d partir de Tangle supdriaur gauche, de gauche d droite, et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre d'images ndcessaire. Les diagrammes suivants illustrent la mdthode. 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 ^i IN THE ROCKY MOU^^TTAINS. fj M. W'iiic ot Jibbcuturf. i BY W. H. G.J£INGSTON, AUTHOR OF "old jack," " IN TiTTkASTERN SEAS," " ON THE BANKS OF THE AMAZON," " IN THE WILDS OF AFRICA," ETC. ETC. WITH 41 FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS. T. NELSON AND SONS, PATERNOSTER F W. eoinbukgh; and new yokk. 1893 mmmmmmimmmmmmff^ F s? & // 4 ^/ @rontcttts. CHAPTER L WITS n»OI-E JEFF CAME TO " ROARING WATER" — THE SITUATION OF THE FARM — THE INMATES OF THB HOUSE — MY SI8TKR CLARICE AND BLACK RAOHBL — UNCLE JEFF — BARTLE WON AND OIDEON TUTTLE ARRIVAL OF LIEU- TENANT BR0ADSTRF2T AND HIS MEN — THE TROOPERS QUARTERED IN THE BUT — OUR FARM-LABOURERS — SUDDEN APPEARANCE OF THE REDSKIN WINNEHAK — HIS FORMER VISIT TO THE FARM — CLARICE ENCOUNTERS HIM AT THE SPRING BADLY WOUNDED — KINDLY TREATED BY CLARICE AND RACHEL — HIS GRATITUDE. 18-SS CHAPTER IL WINNEMAZ WARNS OS OF THE APPROACH OF ENEMIES— BARTLE GOES OUT TO SCOUT — NO SIGNS OF A FOE — I TAKE THE LIEUTENANT TO VISIT " ROARING WATER " — BARTLE REPORTS THAT THE ENEMY HAVE TURNED BACK — THE LIEUTENANT DELAYED BY ^'HE SERGEANT'S ILLNESS — THE VISIT TO THE HUT — A TIPSY TROOPER — KLITZ AND OILLOOLY MISSING — THE SERGEANT BECOMES WORSE— SEARCH FOR THE MISSING MEN— I OFFER TO ACT AS GUIDE TO THE LIEUTENANT — BARTLE UNDERTAKES TO FIND OUT WHAT HAS BECOME OF KLITZ AND BARNEY 84-65 CHAPTER III. MV FAMILY HISTORY — MY FATHER, ONCE A CAPTAIN IN THE BRITISH ARMY, COMBS TO AMERICA AND MARRIES UNCLE JEFF'S SISTER — HE SETTLES ON A FARM IN OHIO — CLARICE AND I ARE BORtI — BIY GRANDFATHER'S FARM DESTROYED BY A FLOOD — THE NEXT YEAR OUR FARM IB BURNT — MY FATHER RESOLVES TO MIGRATE TO THE WEST — WE SET OFF IN WAGGONS WITH AN EMIGRANT TRAIN — PROSPEROUS COMMENCEMENT OF JOURNEY — PROVISIONS RUN SHORT — I WITNESS A BUFFALO HUNT — THE EMIORANTI viii CONTENTS. BUFFER FROM CHOLBRA ~ MT MOTHER DIES— MAKT OF THE EMIORAKn TURN BACK — MY FATHER rBRSRVERES — FIERCELY ATTACKED BY IN- DIANH — WE KEEP THEM AT BAY — AGAIN ATTACKED, WHEN A STRANQER COMES TO OUR ASSISTANCE — CLARICE GIVES HIM A BOOK — HE PROMISES TO READ IT — WE CONTINUE OUR JOURNEY, AND REACH FORT KEARNEY — REMAIN THERE FOR SOME MONTHS — MY FATHER, THOUGH STILL SUFFER- ING, INSISTS ON SETTING OUT AGAIN — HE SOON BECOMES WORSE, AND DIES — I AM DIGGING HIS GRAVE, WHEN AN EMIGRANT TRAIN COMES BY — CNOLE JEFF IS THE LEADER, AND WE ACCOMPANY HIM TO ROARING WATr,R 66-80 CHAPTER IV. 411 THE LIEUTENANT AND I ARE STARTING, WE HEAR THAT KLITZ AND BARNEY HAVE GONE OFF WITH A WHEELBARROW FOR CALIFORNIA — A PLEASANT BIVOUAC — AT LAST WE CATCH SIGHT OFTHE DESERTERS — THE LIEUTENANT IS ABOUT TO RIDE AFTER THEM, WHEN A PARTY OF INDIANS APPEAR — THE INDIANS TAKE TO FLIGHT, AND WE LOSE SIGHT OF THE RUNAWAYS — FORM OUR CAMP — DISCOVER THAT WE ARE WATCHED — FOLLOW THE SPY, WHO PROVES TO BE HAY80TTA — FIND THE DESBM'ERS TAKING THEIR EASE — WE CAPTURE THEM, AND, GUIDED BY MAY80TTA, TAKE THEM TO THE INDIAN CAMP — RESOLVE TO RETURN TO THE FARM 81-102 ' i CHAPTER V. Wl LEAVE THE INDIAN CAMP — MAYSOTTA'S KIND OFrBR — OTTR RIDE TO ROARING WATER — INDIANS IN THE DISTANCE — IN BIGHT OF THE FARM — A STRANGER INDIAN — OUR RECEPTION BY UNCLE JEFF — THE INDIAN'S STORY — HE GETS FOOD AND SHELTER — MATTERS NOW LOOK SERIOUS — A COUNCIL OF WAR — MY DOUBTS OF THE INDIAN — CLARICE AND RACHEL ACCOMPANY THE LIEUTENANT TO THE INDIAN CAMP — WE BARRICADE THE HOUSE — DISAPPEARANCE OF THE INDIAN — BARTLE GOES OUT TO RECONNOITRE — APPROACH OF THE ENEMY — A DETER- MINED ATTACK — SEVERE LOSSES THE OUT-BUILDINGS SET ON FIRE OUR AMMUNITION RUNS SHORT — THE ROOF TAKES FIRE — HOW ARE WE TO ESCAPE? — UNCLE JEFF'S RUSE, AND HOW IT SUCCEEDED 103-138 CHAPTER VI. WE ARE SURPRISED BY THE INDIANS WHILE LEAVING THE BOUSE — BARTLE'S ADVICE — I AM PERSUADED TO ESCAPE ALONE — AN EXCITING PURSUIT — FOOD AND REST — MY JOURNEY RESUMED — AMONG THE MOUNTAINS — MY ANXIETY ABOUT MY FRIENDS — A WEARY DAY — AN INDIAN IN SIGHT — rRIEND OR ENEMY? — A RECOGNITION — WINNEMAK AND BIS BRAVES — 1 AM KINDLY TREATED — NO NEWS OF UNCLE JEFF A SPY — WE START IN PURSUIT or BIM — THE SPY OVERTAKEN — A DEADLY COMBAT WINNS- CONTKNTS. iX MAK 0VIRC0ME8 riUMINOO— IS HE DEAD? — MY INTEK0E88I0M — OH TBI WAY rOR WINNEMAK'S CAHP 184-157 CHAPTER VII. ON THE MARCH — WINNEMAK UNABLE TO GTVE ME NEWS OF MV FRIENDS— MY AROUHENTS IN FAVOUR OF PIOMINOO — ENCAMPED FOR THE NIOHT — WK BBAOH WINNEMAK'S CAMP — BRATE3 AND SQUAWS — WHERE ARE HV FRIENDS? — WINNEMAK AND HIS IDOLS — A PARTY OF BRAVES ARRIVE, WITH PRISONERS — MAYSOTTA AND HER DOG — A STRANGE MEETING — THE lieutenant's story — WE START IN QUEST OF CLARICE AND RACHEL — A FRUITLESS SEARCH — 1 LOSE MY FRIEND IN THE FOREST — TRYING TO REGAIN THE RIGHT PATH, I MEET WITH CLARICE AND MAYSOTTA — MY sister's story — I TELL HER OF THE BURNING OF THE FABM --WE SET OUT FOR THE CAMP, AND MEET WITH THE LIEUTENANT — NIOHT COMING ON, WK ENCAMP IN THE FOREST — RESUMING OUR JOURNEY IN THE MORNING, WE REACH THE CAMP IN SAFETY 168-188 CHAPTER VIII. I REEK OUT PIOMINOO A STRONG DESIRE TO SAVE HIS LIFE — I PLEAD WITH THE CHIEF, AND GAIN MY POINT — I OFFER THE YOUNG BUAVK MY HORSE AND ARMS — KINDNESS REQUITED— THE INDIAN'S ESCAPE— A DARING ACT, AND A KIND DEED — WE SEEK PROTECTION FROM TBI INDIANS — RETURN OF UNCLE JEFF AND MAYSOTTA — AN ADDRESS TO THE BRAVES — HOW IT SUCCEEDED — UNCLE JEFF'S STORY — THE LIEU- TENANT ABOUT TO LEAVE US — HIS PLANS — WE SEND OUT SCOUTS — ALARMING INTELLIGENCE THE CAMP STRUCK — WE MOVE TO THE NORTHWARD — WE CHANGE OUR PLANS —1 WONDERFUL REGION — Wl SEPARATE FROM OUR INDIAN FRIENDS — THROUGH A PINE FOREST — THE CATARACT OF THE PASS — WE BEND BACK OUR HORSES — OUR JOURNEY CONTINUED — A "cANADA STAG*' KILLED — ENCAMPED FOB THE NIGHT 189-216 CHAPTER IX. WK CWNTINUK OUR JOURNEY OVER THE MOUNTAINS, AND ENCAMP IN A FERTILK VALLEY — HUNT ELK IN COMPANY WITH A PANTHER— I SPOIL THE SPORT OF THE LATTER — UNCLE JEFF WOUNDS AN ELK, WHICH IS LOST DOWN A PRECIPICE — MORE FORTUNATE AFTERWARDS — UNCLK JEFF RESOLVES TO REMAIN WITH CLARICE, RACHEL, AND PAT, WHILE HANLBY, THE SERGEANT, AND I PUSH ON — DIFFICULTIES IN CROSSING THE MOUNTAINS— MANLEY IN FEARFUL DANGER — HE ESCAPES— DESCEND TOWARDS A BROAD VALLEY — rre WONDERFUL APPEARANCE — WE ENCAMP — THE SERGEANT NEARLY S0AI.D8 HIS FINGERS IN A TEMPTING SPRING — CURIOUS PHENOMENON — DREADFUL NOISES OF WILD BEASTS DISTURB OUR SLUMBERS 217-23S Z CONTKNTS. CHAPTER X ADVANCE XOWARDa A BEAVTIFt'L T.AKE — HOT SULl'HUK HPRINOa MET WITH — BOILINO MUD POTS— CURIOUM BASINS FOKMKD BY WATEIl IN THE S"r>B OF THB MOUNTAIN — LOVELY FRETWORK ROUND THEIR RIMS — NEARLY SINK INTO A BO MNO MUD POOL — THE LAKE REACHED — ABUNDANCE OF OAMR AND FISH — BUILD A RAFT — BEGIN VOYAGE ACROSS LAKE — VIOLENT STORM — IN GREAT DANGER — DRIVEN ACROSS THE LAKE — WE CLING TO TREKS WHILE THE RAFT 18 DASHED TO PIECES— MAKE OUR WAV THROUGH THE FOREST — I MISS MY COMPANIONS, AND LOSE MY GUN AND KNAPSACK OVER A PRECIPICE — REACH FOOT OF MOUNTAIN — I CAMP WITHOITT SUPPER on FIRE 239-265 CHAPTER XI. ALONE IN THE FOREST — AWAKENED BY THE CRY OF A PANTHER — THE BRUTE DISCOVERS ME — I TAKE REFUGE IN A TREE — THE PANTHER DISAPPEARS — ▲ VISIT TO THE LAKE — VAIN EFFORTS TO RECOVER MY RIFLE AND KNAP- BACK — I CONTINUE TOWARDS THE WEST, HOPING TO MEET MY FRIENDS — MORE SULPHUR SPRINGS — NEARLY OVERWHELMED BY A MUD VOL- CANO A POISONOUS VALLEY — CAUGHT IN A SNOW-STORM — BUILD A HUT — MY FARK, THISTLE ROOTS — MAKE TRAPS AND A FISHING-LINE — BALLY FORTH — CATCH THREE BEAVERS — FIND ANOTHER LAKE— SALMON- TROUT CAUGHT — CONTINUE DOWN A RIVER, AND COME UPON A NUMBER OF MAGNIFICENT GEYSERS — AM ABOUT TO TAKE UP MY ABODE IN A GROTTO, WHEN A HOT SPRING RISES FROM IT — I SHIFT MY QUARTERS — PREPARE FOR ANOTHER SOLITARY NIGHT — I HEAR A SHOT, AND A WOUNDED DEER BOUNDS NEAR MB 266-288 CHAPTER XII. I KILL THE DEER — MORE WONDERS — MEET MANLEY AND SERGEANT CUSTI8 AT LAST — A PLEASANT EVENING — PARCHED WITH THIRST AMIDST SPARKLING STREAMS — OUR HAZARDOUS JOURNEY OVER THE MOUNTAINS — SAFE ARRIVAL AT FORT HARWOOD — WELCOMED BY THE COMMANDANT — AN EXPEDITION ORGANIZED TO DRIVE THE INDIANS FROM THB COUNTRY — MANLEY COMMANDS IT — I ACCOMPANY HIM — MEET BARNEY AMD KLITZ, .STILL BOUND FOR CALIFORNIA — BARNEY GIVES AN ACCOUNT OF THEIR ESCAPE — THEIR JOURNEY STOPPED — THEY RETURN WITH US — WE MEET PIOMINGO AND HIS SQUAW — TELLS US THAT HE HAS BURIED THE WAR- HATCHET — HEAR AN ALARMING ACCOUNT OF BARTLE — ASCEND TBI MOUNTAIN TO WHERE WE LEFT UNCLE JEFF — FIND HIM AND CLARICE WELL — HE HAS OBTAINED A LARGE SUPPLY OF PELTRIES-^OUR RETURN TO WINNBMAK'S CAMP — MAYSOTTA ACCOMPANIES CLARICE TO ROARING WATER 289-809 CONTENTS. X] CHAPTER XIII iKOIOSAL, AND CONFESSION — UNCLF Tir«.ii. .«„„ THE ENOAQEMENT OF MANLEY AVn nr > APPROVES OF J-, Misii of iniustrations. -♦♦- nNDINO A FBIRND, .. i< " ROARING WATER" FARM f • • • • CLARICE AND WINNEMAK, "roaring V/-.ITER," OUR TROUT-STREAM IN ROARINO WA.t- CANON, INDIAN MODE OF ATTACKING BUFFALO, CLARICE AND THE STRANGEK, THE DESERTERS IN SIGHT. OUR MEETING WITH MAYSOTfA THE RUNAWAYS, WINNEMAK, . . A RACE FOR LIFE. THE MOUNTAIN PASS, .. •• •• , A SPY ON THE WATCH, '• •• 1 A DEADLY EMBRACE. ., WINNEMAK'S CAMP. WINNEMAK AND HIS IDOLS, MAYSOTTA AND THE LIEUTENANT, FOUND AT LAST, WINNEMAK IN FULL DRESS THE MEETING WITH MAYSOTTA. IN THE PINE FOREST. THE CATARACT OF THE PASS ' • •• .. ,. WAPITI OP THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS, ELK OF THE ROCK? MOUNTAINS, DISAPPOINTED HUNTERS, FRONTINT'TKCI 17 25 41 49 •• 65 • » 73 • • 86 «• 03 • • 09 • • 113 • • 131 • • 141 • ■ 149 * * 1 153 «l , 161 * * • 1C7 ** • 173 •• 181 •• 187 •• 199 •• 207 •• 211 •* •• 215 * * e • 221 • • ^f SU XIV LIST OP ILLUSTRATIONS. A. PROTIDENTIAL ESCAPE, A V.ONDERFUL REGION, CURIOUS HOT- WATER BATHS, THE LAKE AMONG THE MOUNTAINS, THE CASCADE, .. .. A DANGEROUS LOCALITY, A FAN-LIKE GEYSER, .. THE TREACHEROUS GROTTO, A JOYFUL MEETING, PIOMINGO AND HIS SQUAW, FOREST-TRAVELLING, . . INDIANS AND THEIR BARBARITIES TO THE RESCUE, A QUESTION, AND A CONFESSION, WINNEMAK AS A HISSIOVARV, .. 241 246 241) 261 271 281 285 291 301 305 313 319 327 ESI UM IN THE ROCKY MOUNTAUSTS. CHAPTER I. WBV CMCLE JEFF CAME TO " ROARING WATER" — THE SITUATION OF THK FARM — THE INMATES OF TUE HOUSE — MY SISTER CLARICE AND BLACK RAOHBI. — UNCLE JEFF — BARTLE WON AND GIDEON TUTTLE — ARRIVAL OF LIEU- TENANT BROADSTREET AMD BIS MEN — THE TROOPERS QUARTERED IN THE HUT — OUR FARM-LABOURERS — SUDDEN APPEARANCE OF THE REDSKIN WINNEMAK — HIS FORMET^ VISIT TO THE FARM — CLARICE ENCOUNTERS HIM AT THK SPRINO — BADLY WOUNDED— KINDLY TREATED BY CLARIOB AND RACHEL — HIS GRATITUDE. 'E were most of us seated round a blazing fire of pine logs, which crackled away merrily, sending the sparks about in all directions, at the no small risk of set- ting fire to garments of a lighter texture Although the flowers were blooming on the hill-sides, in the woods and valleys, and by the margins of the streams ; humming-birds were flitting about gathering their dainty food; and the bears, having finished the operation of licking their paws, had come out in search of more substantial fare ; and the bufialo had been seen migrating to the north, — than ours. I '■'■i 14 UNCLE JEFF. the wind at night blew keenly from off the snow- capped mountain-tops which, at no great distance, rose above us, and rendered a fire acceptable even to us hardy backwoodsmen. Our location was far in advance of any settlement in that latitude of North America, for Uncle Jeff Crockett " could never abide," he averred, " being in the rear of his fellow-creatures." Whenever he had before found people gathering around him at the spot where he had pitched his tent, or rather, put up his log-hut, he had sold his property (always to advan- tage, however), and yoking his team, had pushed on westward, with a few sturdy followers. On and on he had come, until he had reached the base of the Rocky Mountains. He would have gore over them, but, having an eye to business, and know- ing that it was necessary to secure a market for his produce, he calculated that he had come far enough for the present. He therefore climbed the sides of the mountain for a short distance, until he entered a sort of canon, which, penetrating westward, greatly narrowed, until it had the appearance of a cleft with lofty crags on either side, — while it opened out east- ward, overlooking the broad valley and the plain beyond. He chose the spot as one capable of being defended against the Redskins, never in those parts very friendly to white men, — especially towards those whom they found settling themselves on lands which they looked upon as their own hunting-grounds, altliough they could use them for no other purpose. " ROARIKO WATER." 16 Another reason which had induced Uncle Jeft' to select this spot was, that not far off was one of the only practicable passes through the mountains either to the north or south, and that the trail to it led close below us at the foot of the hills, so that every emi- grant train or party of travellers going to or from the Great Salt Lake or California must pass in sight of the house. A stream, issuing from the heights above, fell over the cliffs, forming a roaring cataract; and then, rush- ing through the canon, made its way down into the valley, irrigating and fertilizing the grourd, until it finally reached a large river, the Platte, flovving into the Missouri. From this cataract our location obtained its name of "Roaring Water;" but it was equally well known as " Uncle JefTs Farm," Our neighbours, if such they could be called in this wild region, were " birds of passage." Now and then a few Indian families might fix their tents in the valley below ; or a party of hunters or trappers might bivouac a night or two under the shelter of the woods, scattered here and there ; or travellers bound east or west might encamp by the margin of the river for the sake of recruiting their cattle, or might occasionally seek for shelter at the log-house which they saw perched above them, where, in addition to comfort- able quarters, abundant fare and a hospitable welcome — which Uncle Jeff never refused to any one, whoever he might be, who came to his door — were sure to be obtained. But it is time that I should say something about m 16 MY SISTER CLARICE. the inmates of the house at the period I am de- scribing. First, there was Uncle JefF Crockett, a man of about forty -five, with a tall, stalwart figure, and a handsome countenance (though scarred by a slash from a toma- hawk, and the claws of a bear with which he had had a desperate encounter). A bright blue eye betokened a keen sight, as also that his rifle was never likely to miss its aim; while his well-knit frame gave assur- ance of great activity and endurance. I was then about seventeen, and Uncle JefF had more than once complimented me by remarking that " I was a true chip of the old block," as like what he was when at my age as two peas, and that he had no fear but that I should do him credit ; so that I need not say any more about myself. I must say something, however, about my sister Clarice, who was my junior by rather more than a year. Fair as a lily she was, in spite of summer suns, from which she took but little pains to shelter herself; but they had failed even to freckle her clear skin, or darken her light hair — except, it might be, that from them it obtained the golden hue which tinged it. Delicate as she looked, she took an active part in all household duties, and was now busy about some of them at the further end of the big hall, which served as our common sitting-room, workshop, kitchen, and often as a sleeping-room, when guests were numerous. She was assisted by Rachel Prentiss, a middle-aged negress, the only other woman in the establishment ; who took upon herself the out-door work and rougher 586) lU d Hi UNCLE JEFF S FOLLOWERS. 19 duties, with the exception of tending the poultry and milking the cows, in which Clarice also en- ■iJ" gaijea. I liave not yet described the rest of tlie party round the fire. There was Bartle Won, a faithful follower, for many years, of Uncle Jeff; but as unlike him as it was possible that any two human beings could be. Bartle was a wiry little fellow, with bow legs, broad shoulders (one rather higher than the other), and a big head, out of which shone a pair of gray eyes, keen as those of a hawk — the only point in which he resembled Uncle Jeff. He was wonderfully active and strong, notwithstanding his figure; and as for fatigue, he did not know what it meant. He could go days without eating or drinking ; although, when he did get food, he certainly made ample amends for his abstinence. He was no great runner ; but when once on the back of a horse, no animal, however vicious and up to tricks, had been able to dislodge him, Gideon Tuttle was another faithful follower of Uncle Jeff: he was a hardy backwoodsman, whose gleaming axe had laid many monarchs of the forest low. Though only of moderate height, few men could equal him in strength. He could fell an ox with his fist, and hold down by the horns a young bull, how- ever furious. He had had several encounters with bears ; and although on two occasions only armed with a knife, he had come off victorious. His nerve and activity equalled his strength. He was no great talker, and he was frequently morose and ill-tempered ; but he had one qualification which compensated for f I-- 20 LIEUTENANT BROADSTREET ARRIVES. all his other deficiencies — he was devotedly attached to Uncle Jeff. \ There were engaged on the farm, besides these, four other hands : an Irishman, a Spaniard, a negro, and a half-breed, who lived by themselves in a rough hut near the house. Although Uncle Jeff was a great advocate for liberty and equality, he had no fancy to have these fellows in-doors; their habits and language not being such as to make close intimacy pleasant. The two old followers of Uncle Jeff — although they would have laughed at the notion of being called gentlemen — were clean in their persons, and careful in their conversation, especially in the presence of Clarice. Just before sunset that evening, our party had been increased by the arrival of an ofiicer of the United States army and four men, who were on their way from Fort Laramie to Fort Harwood, on the other side of the mountains; but they had been deserted by their Indian guide, and having been unable to find the entrance to the pass, were well- nigh worn out with fatigue and vexation when they caught sight of Roaring Water Farm. The officer and his men were received with a hearty welcome. "There is food enough in the store, and we will make a shake-down for you in this room," said Uncle Jeff, wringing the hand of the officer in his usual style. The latter introduced himself as Lieutenant Manley Broaitcher of water, poured the contents over him, which efi'ectually roused him up. "Hullo! murther! are we all fjoino; t'^ '^'^ drowned entirely at the bottom ? Sure the rivcr'o burst over us!" he exclaimed, springing out of his l)unk. He looked very much astonished at seeing the lieutenant and me; but quickly bringing himself into p^osition, 52 PAT SPKRRY's IMFIIDENCE. Il< I I Ha and giving a military salute, "All right, your honour," said he. "Yes, I see that you are so now," said the lieu- tenant ; " but little help you could have afforded us, had we been attacked by the enemy. I must call you to account by-and-by. What har ^'^come of your comrades ?" " Sure, your honour, are they not all sleeping sweetly as infants in their bunks?" He peered as he spoke into the bunks which had been occupied by the other men. " The drunken bastes, it was there 1 left them barely two hours ago, while I jist turned in to get a quiet snooze. They are not there now, your honour," he observed, with a twinkle in his eye ; " they must have gone out unbeknown to me. It is mighty surprising!" "Why, you impudent rascal, you have in asleep for the last twelve hours," said the lieuter scarcely able to restrain his gravity. " Take care that this does not happen again ; keep sober while you remain here." " Sure, your honour, I would not touch a dhrop of the cratur, even if they were to try and pour it down me throat," he answered. "But I found a countryman of mine living here. It is a hard matter, when one meets a boy from Old Ireland, to refuse jist a sip of the potheen for the sake of gintility ! " " Follow me to the house as soon as you have put 3'^ourself into decent order," said the lieutenant, not wishing to exchange further words with the trooper. Pat touched his hat, to signify that he would obey the order, and the lieutenant and I walked on. NO TRACE OF THK MISSING MKN §9 " I cannot put that fellow under arrest, seeing that I liave no one to whom I can give him in charge," said the lieutenant, laughing. " But what can have become of the others ? I do not think, notwithstfind- ing what Sergeant Custis said, that they can have deserted. They would scarcely make an attempt to get over this wild country alone, and on foot." As soon as Pat made his appearance, the lieutenant ordered him to stand on guard at the door, where he ke])t him until nightfall. When our men came in, 1 inquired whether they knew anything of the troopers. They one and all averred that they had left them sleeping in the hut, and that they had no notion where they could have gone. "Could the fellows, when probably as drunk as Pat, have fallen into the torrent and been drowned!" exclaimed the lieutenant anxiously. "Sure, they were as sober as judges," observed Dan, one of our men. Then an idea seemed to strike him. " To be sure, your honour, they might have gone fishing up the stream. That broth of a boy Barney might jist have rolled in, and the long Dutchman have tried to haul him out, and both have been carried away together. Ill luck to Roaring Water, if it has swallowed up my countryman Barney." I suspected, from the way in which Dan spoke, that he had no great belief that such a catastrophe had occurred; in fact, knowing the fellow pretty well, I thought it very probable that, notwithstand- ing what he said, he was cognizant of the where- abouts of the truants. ^1 '(1' i 54 MV 8EIIV1CKS AH OUlJ)i:. Uncle Jeff and the lieutenjint examined and cross- examined all tlie men ; but no .satisfactory information could be got out of tliem. " Whether they come back or not, 1 must be on iny way to-morrow morning with Spony ; while I leave my sergeant under your care, if you will take cliarge of him," said the lieutenant. Uncle Jefi* willingly undertook to do this. "As you arc unacquainted with the way, and Pat is not likely to be of much a.ssistance, if Uncle Jeft will allow me I will act as your guide to the mouth of the pass, aftei' which you will have no great diffi- culty in finding } d," I said to the lieutenant. He gladly accepted my offer. "But what about the po.s.sibility of the farm lieing attacked by the Indians? You vvomd not like in that case to be absent, and I should be unwilling to deprive your friends of your aid," he oVjserved. " II" you accompany me, I must leave Sperry to attend on Sergeant Custis, and to come on with him when he is well enough. Although I do not comj)are the Iri.shman to you, yet, should the farm be attacked, I can answer for his firing away as long as he has a bullet left in his |)(>uch." Uncle Jeff, much to my .satisCaction, allowed me to accompany the lieutenant. I had a good horse, too, and had no fears about making my way back sjifely, even should the country be swarming with Indians. When the lieutenant spoke of the possibility of the farm being attacked bv t1i«* R»''er as to their whereabouts than we were at first. CHAPTER III. MV FAMILY niSTOKY — MV KATIIKR, ONCE A CAPTAIN IN THE BRITItia ARMY, COMES TO AMERICA AND MARRIES UNCLE JEFF's SISTER— HE SETTLEB ON A FARM IX OHIO— CLARICE AND I ARK B' MY GRANDFATBER'R FARM DESTROYKD KY A FLOOD — THE NKXT YEAi OUR FARM IS BURNT — MV FATHER RESOLVES TO MIGRATE TO THE WEST — WE SET OFF IN WAGQOMB WITH AN EMIGRANT TRAIN — PROSPEROUS COMMENCEMENT OF JOURNEY — PROVISIONS RUN SHORT — I WITNESS A BUFFALO HUNT — THE EMIORANT« SUFFER FROM CHOLERA — MY MOTHER DIES — MANY OF THE KMIGRANTH TURN BACK — MY FATHER PERSEVERES — FIERCELY ATTACKED BY IN- DIANS — WE KEEP THEM AT BAY — AGAIN ATTACKED, WHEN A STRANGER COMES TO OUR ASSISTANCE — CLARICE GIVES HIM A BOOK — HE PROMISES TO READ IT — WE CONTINUE OUR JOURNEY, AND REACH FORT KEARNEY — REMAIN THERE FOR SOME MONTHS — MY FATHER, THOUGH STILL SUFFER- ING, INSISTS ON SETTING OUT AGAIN — HE SOON BECOMES WORSE, AND DIES — 1 AM DIGGING HIS GRAVE, WHEN AN EMIGRANT TRAIN COMES BY — UNCLE JEFF IS THE LEADER, AND WE ACCOMPANY HIM TO ROARING WATER. [UT the readers of my Journal, if so I may venture to call it, would like to know how Clarice and I came to be at Uncle Jetf s farm. To do so, I must give a little bit of my family history, which probably would not otherwise interest them. My father, Captain Middlemore, had been an odicer in the English army, but sold out and came to America. Being, I suspect, of a roving disposition, he had travelled through most of the Eastern States without finding any spot where he could make up his .,JL_ MY FATHER REACHES OHIO. 67 mind to settle. At length he bent his steps to Ohio; in the western part of which he had one night to seek shelter from a storm at the farm of a substantial settler, a Mr. Kalph Crockett (the father of Uncle Jeff). Mr. Crockett treated the English stranger with a hospitality which the farmers of Ohio never failed to show to their guests. He had several sons, but he spoke of one who seemed to have a warm place in his heart, and who had gone away some years before, and was leading a wild hunter's life on the prairies. " I shcild like to fall in with him," said my father. "It is the sort of life I have a fancy for leading, — huntini; the buffalo and fii^htinfj the Red Indian." "Better stay and settle down among us, stranger," said Mr. Crockett. "In a few years, if you turn to with a will, and have some little money to begin with, you will be a wealthy man, with broad acres of your own, and able to sup})ly the Eastern Statea with thousands of bushels of wheat. It is a proud thing to feel that we feed, not only the people of our own land, but many who would be starving, if it were not for us, in that ta.x-burdened country of yours." My father laughed at the way in which the Ohio farmer spoke of Old England ; but notwithstanding that, he thought the matter over seriously. He was influenced not a little, too, I have an idea, by the admiration he felt for the farmer's only daughter, Mary Crockett. My father had the price of his conunission still almost intact ; and it was looked upon as almost a 11 1^ 58 WHY UNCLE JEFF LEFT IIOMK. princely fortune to begin with in that part of the world. So, as lie received no hint to go, — indeed, he was warmly pressed to stay whenever he spoke of moving, — he stayed, and stayed on. At last he asked Mary Crockett to become his wife, and promised to settle down on the nearest farm her father could obtain for him. Mr. Crockett applauded his resolution ; and he pur- chased a farm which happened to be for sale only a few miles off, and gave him his daughter for a wife. She had gone vo school iji Piiiladelphia, where she had gained sufficient accomplishments to satisfy my father's fastidious tfiste ; and she was, besides being very pretty, a Christian young woman. She often spoke of her brother Jeft' with warm afi'oction, for he, when at home, had ever showed him- self to be a loving, kind brother ; indeed, Mary was his pet, and if anybody could have induced him to lead a settled life, she might have done it. He had had, somehow or other, a (piarrel with her one day, — little more than a tiff, — so off' he went into the woods and across the prairies; and, as it turned out, he never came back. She was not the cause of his going, for he had been thinkincr about it for a lonf; time before, but this tiff just set the ball rolling. My parents were })erfectly happy in their married life, and might have remained so had it not been for my poor father's unsettled disposition. I was boiTi, then Clarice; and both my father and mother devoted all the time they could spare from the duties of the farm to our education. Clarice was always a bright, KEVERSES. 59 intelligent little creature, and rapidly took in all the instruction she received. My mother's only unhap])i- ness arose from the thought of sending her to Phila- delphia, — where she might have to complete her education, as she wished her to become as perfect a lady as our father was a thorough gentleman. He, hein"' well informed, was able to instruct me, and I made as much progress as my sister. Rough in some respects as were our lives, we found the advan- tage of this, as we could enjoy many amusements from which we should otherwise have been debarred. Clarice learned to play and sing from our mother; and I was especially fond of drawing, an art in which my father was well able to instruct me. But our family, hitherto prosperous, were now t(3 suft'er severe reverses. My grandfather's property lay in a rich bottom, and one early spring the floods came and swept away his corn-fields, destroyed his meadows, and carried off his cattle. One of my uncles was drowned at that time, another died of fever caught from exposure, and a third was killed by the fall of a tree. The old man did not complain at God's dealing with him, for he was a true Christian, but he bowed his head ; and he died shortly afterwards, at our house. My father's j)roperty had escaped the floods, but the following summer, which was an unusually dry one, a fire swept over the country. It reached our farm, and although my father had timely notice, so that he was able to j)ut my mother and us into one of the waggons, with tiie most valuable part of his household property, the rest was enveloped in flames shortly I ii- ■'i 60 A FAMILY COUNCIL. after we had lai't the house. The next day not a building, not a fence, remained standing. The whole farm was a scene of black desolation. " We have had a pretty strong hint to move west- ward, which I have long been thinking of doing," said my father. " Many who have gone to the Pacific coast have become possessed of wealth in . half the time we have taken to get this farm in order. What do you say, Mary?" Our mother was always ready to do whatever he wished, although she would rather have remained in the part of the country where she was born and still had many friends. "I should say, let us go eastward, and purchase a small farm in some more civilized district ; we can then send our children to school, and be able to see them during the holidays," she observed. • We ourselves can give them such schooling as they require," replied my father. " You will make Clarice as accomplished as yourself, and I will take good care of Ralph.. It is not book learning a lad requires to get on in this country. He is a good hand at shoot- ing and fishing, understands all sorts of farm work, and is as good a rider as any boy of his age. He will forget all these accomplishments if we go eastward ; whereas if we move westward, he will improve still more. And as he is as sharp as a Yankee, he will do well enough in whatever line he follows." The truth was, my father had made up his mind to go in the direction he proposed, and was not to be turned aside by any arguments, however sensible. SETTING OUT. 61 \vl)icli my mother migiit offer. So it was settled that we should make a long jourDey across the prairie. As for the difficulties and dangers to be encountered, or the hardships to which my mother and Clarice would be expo<5ed, he did not take these into con- si* loration. There arc people with minds so consti- tuted that they only see one side of a question ; and my father was unhappily one of these. He ]n'oposod to unite himself with some respectable |);irty of emigrants, who would travel together for iiuitual protection. He considered that they might thus set at defiance any Ijand of Indians, however numerous, which they might encounter. The two farms were no doubt much inferior in value to what they would have been with buildings, outhouses and fencings, standmg crops and stock ; yet, even as they stood, they were worth a good sum, for they were already cleared — the chief work of the settler being thus done. However, they realized as much as my father expected, and with a well-equipped train and several hired attendants we set out. The urst part of our journey was tolerably easy ; the emigrants were good-humoured, we had abundance of provisions, the country was well watered, and the cattle could obtain plenty of rich grass to keep up their strength. But as soon as we got out of the more civilized districts our difficulties began. Some of the rivers were very difficult to cross, and often there was no small danger of the waggons sticking ffst in some spots, or being carried down by the current in others ; then we h.ad hills to surmount and 62 INDIANS VISIT OUR CAMP. rocky ground to pass over, wLore there was no herbage or water for our beasts. My fatlior kept aloof as much as possible from the other emiu^rnnts, so that we did not hear of the com- plaints they were making. At last a rumour reached us that the owners of several of the wairo'ons were talkinij of turnini; back. \Vc had met at different times two or three ti'ains of [)eople who had given up the journey, and these had declared that the hard- ships were greater than any human beings could bear; but my father had made up his mind, and go on he would, even if he carried his own waggons alone over the prairie. A few Indians hovered round us at times, but our rifle-shots warned them to keej) off; and at night we encamped, under my father's direction, in military fashion, with the waggons placed so as to form a fortification round the camp. Our fresh provisions had come to an end, too, and it now became very important that we should procure game. We had encamped one evening, when several Indians approached, making signs that they were friends. Tiiey proved to belong to a tribe which had been at peace with the white people. Our guide knew one of them, and we had no doubt that thev could be trusted. They have long since been driven from their old hunting-grounds, and I forget even the name of the trilie. When they heard that we were in want of fresh food, they said that if any of our hunters would accompany them they would show us where buffalo could lie found ; and that we might either A BUFFALO-HUNT PLANNED. 63 shoot tliem ourselves, or that they would try to kill some for us. Few of our people, although hardy backwoodsmen, were accustomed to hunting ; and few, indeed, had ever seen any buffalo. But my father, feeling the im- portance of obtaining some fresh meat, volunteered to go, — directing a light cart to follow, in order to bring back our game, — and I obtained leave to accompany iiim. One of the Indians could speak English sufRciently well to make himself understood by us. Talking to my father, and finding that even he had never shot any buffalo, the Indian advised that we should allow him and his people to attack the herd in their own manner, as the animals might take alarm before we could get up to them, and escape us altogether. My father agreed to this, saying that, should they fail, iie would be re.ady with his rifle to ride after the herd and try to bring down one or more of them. This plan was agreed to, and we rode forward. I observed our Indian friend dismount and put his ear to the cfi'ound several times as we rode forward, My father a.sked him why he did this. He rej)lied tliat it was to ascertain how far oif the buffalo were : he could judge of the distance by the sound of their foet, and their occasional roars as the bulls enirnored in combat. Not an animal, however, was yet visible. At last we caught sight of n number of dark objects moving on the prairie in the far distance. "There is the herd!" exclaimed the Indian; "we must now be wary how we approach." 64 AN INDIAN TKICK. Still we went on, the animals beinj; too basil v engaged in grazing, or in attacking each other, to observe us. At last the Indian advised that we should lialt behind a knoll wl»ich rose out of the plain, witli a few buslics on the summit. Here we could remain concealed from the herd. So, havini: irainod tlie foot of the knoll, we dismounted ; and leaving our horses in charge of the men with the cart, my father and I climbed up to the top, where by crouching down we were unseen by the lierd, altliough we could observe all that was going forward. The Indian hunters now took some wolf-skins which had been hantdnjx to their saddles, and com- [)letely covering themselves up, so as to represent wolves, they began to creep towards the herd, trailing thei^ rifles at their sides; thus they got nearer and nearer the herd. Whenever any of the animals stopped to look Jit them, they sto])ped also; when the buffalo went on feeding, they advanced. At length each hunter, having selected a cow, suddenly sprang to his knees and fired, and three fine animals rolled over; though, had the buffalo bulls known their power, they might, with the greatest ease, have crushed their human foes. On hearing the shots, the whole herd took to flight. " Well done ! " cried my fatlier. " I should like to have another, though ; " and hurrying down the hill, he mounted his horse and galloped ofi' in chase of the retreating herd. Heavy and clumsy as the animals looked, so rapidly did they rush over the ground that he could only get z > z 3 o m ■n > •H H » O X z o a c •n ■n > r I i A DEADLY FOE. 67 williin range of two or three of the rearmost. Pulling up, he fired; but the buttalo dashed on; «and, unwill- ing to fatigue his horse, my father came back, some- wiiat annoyed at his failure, The three animals which had been killed were quickly cut up, and we loaded our cart with the meat; after which the Indians accompanied us back to the camp to receive the reward we had promised. Tlie supply of fresh meat was very welcome, and helped to keep sickness at a distance for some time lonfjer. After this we made several days' journey, the supply of fresh provisions putting all hands into better spirits than they had shown for some time. There was but little chance, however, of our replenishing our stock when that was exhausted, for we sfiw Indians frequently hovering round our camp who were not likely to prove as friendly as those we had before met with, and it would be dangerous to go to any distance in search of game, as there was a pro- bability of our being cut off by them. We had soon another enemy to contend with, more subtile than even the Redskins. Cholera broke out among the emigrants, and one after another suc- cumbed. This determined those who had before talked of going back to carry out their intentions; and notwithstanding the expostulations of my father and others, they turned round the heads of their cattle, and back they went over the road we had come. I had by this time observed that my mother was not looking so well as usual. One night she became 1 68 MY mother's death. $ I I I r i 1 very ill, and in spite of all my father and two kind women of our party could do for her, before morning she was dead. My father appeared inconsolable; and, naturally, Clarice and I were very unhappy. We would willingly have died with her. " But we must not complain at what God ordains," said Clarice ; " we must wish to live, to be of use to poor papa. She is happy, we know ; she trusted in Christ, and has gone to dwell with him." Clarice succeeded better than I did in soothing our {)Oor fathers grief I thought that he himself would now wish to go buck, but he was too proud to think of doinjx that. He had become the acknowledijed leader of the party, and the sturdy men who remained with us were now all for going forward ; so, after we had buried our dear mother in a irrove of trees which grew near the camp, and had built a monument of rough stones over her grave, to mark the spot, we once more moved forward. We had just formed our camp the next day, in a more exposed situation than usual, when we saw a party of mounted Indians hovering in the distance. My father, who had not lifted his head until now, gave orders for the disposal of the waggons as could best be done. There were not sufficient to form a large circle, however, .so that our fortitications were less strong than they had before been. We made the cattle graze as close to the camp as possible, so that they might be driven inside at a moment's notice ; and of course we kept strict watch, one half of the men only lying down at a time. OLll CAMP ATTACKED. 69 The Lxi^ht had almost pa&^r^tl away without our boing assailed, whoii just before dawu those on watcli shouted out, — "Here they are ! Up, up, boys! got in tlie cattle — ()uick !" Just as the last animal was tlriveii inside our fortifications the enemy were upon us. We received them with a hot fire, which emptied tliree saddles; when, according to their fashion, they lifted up their de.id or wounded companions and carried them oH^ out of the range of our rifies. Our men shouted, thinking that they had gained tiie victory ; but the Indians were only preparing for another fissault. Seeing the smallness of our inunberfl, they were persuaded that they coidd overwhelm us; and soon we caught sight of them moving round so i\H to encircle our camj), and thus attack us on all sides at once. "Remember the women and cliildren," cried my father, who.se spirit wius now arou.sed. " If we give in, we and tliey will be mas.sacreti ; so we can do tjothinix but fifrht to the last." The men shouted, anad not given u)) the intention of attacking us; their object being to weary us out, and make our hearts, as they would call it, turn pale. 1 70 A SECOND ASSAULT. Just before the sun rose above the horizon they once more came on, decreasing the circumference ol the circle, and gi'adually ch)sing in upon us; not at a rapid rate, however, but slowly — sometimes so slowly that they scarcely appeared to move. " Do not tire, fiiends, until you can take good aim," cried my father, as the enemy got within distant rifle range. " It is just what they wish us to do ; then they will come charging down upon us, in the hope of finding our rifles unloaded. Better let thom come sufficiently near to see their eyes ; alternate men of you only fire." The savages were armed only with bows and spears ; still they could shoot their arrows, we knew, when galloping at full speed. At a sign from one of their leaders they suddenly put their horses to full speed, at the same time giving vent to what I can only describe as a mingling of shrieks and shouts and howls, forming the terrific Indian war-whoop. They were mistaken, however, if they expected to frighten our sturdy backwoodsmen. The first of our men fir(»d when they were about twenty yards off. Several of the red warriors were knocked over, but the rest came on, shooting their arrows, and fancying that they had to attack men with em})ty firearms. The second shots were full in their faces, telling therefore with great effect; while our people raised a shout, which, if not rs shrill, wiis almost as telling as that of the Indian war- whoop. The first men who had fired were ramming away with all their miglit to reload, and were able MY FATHER WOUNDED. 71 to deliver a second fire ; while those who had pistoly iliscliarged them directly afterwards. The Indians, supposing that our party, although we had but few waggons, must be far moi'e numerous tliim they had expected, wheeled round without at- tempting to break through the barricade, and galloped off at full speed, — not even attempting to pick up those who had fallen. The women and children, with Clarice, I should have said, had been protected by a barricade of bales and chests; so that, although a number of arrows had flown into our enclosure, not one of them was hurt. On looking at my father, I saw that he was paler tiian usual; and what was my dismay to find that an arrow had entered his side! It was quickly cut out, although the operation caused him mucli Burt'ering. He declared, however, that it was only a flesh wound, and not worth taking into considera- tion. The Indians being still near us, we thought it only too probable that we should again be attjioked. And, indeed, our anticipations were soon fully realized. In less than half an hour, after having apparently been reinforced, they once more came on, hut this time with the intention of attacking only one bide. We were looking about us, however, in every direction, to ascertain what manoeuvres they might adopt, when we saw to the westward another body of iiorsemen coming across the prairie. 72 TIMKLV UKLV. " We are to have a fresh band of thoiii upon ns,'' cried some of our party. "No, no," I shouted out; "tliey are wliite men! 1 see their riile barrels 'dancinir in the sun; and there are no plumes above their heads ! " I was right; and before many minutes were over the Indians had seen them too, and, not liking their looks, had gallojjed off" to the southward. We I'eceived the stranijcrs with eluMn*s as thev drew near; and they proved to bo a large body of traders. " We heard your shots, and guessed that those Pawnee rascals were u])on you," said their leader, {is he dismounted. He canie up to where my father was lying by the side of the waijijon. "I am sorry to see that you are hurt, friend," he said. " Any of the rest of your i)eo])le wounded i If there arc, and your |>arty will come on to our camp, we will render you all the assistance in our power." "Only two of our men have been hit, and that but sliuhtlv; and my wound is nothini;," answered mv father. " We are much obliged to you, however." " Well, at all events I would advise vou to harness your beasts and move on, or these fellows will be coming back again," said the stranger. "We too nuist not stay here long, for if they thiidv that our camp is left unguarded they may [»ay it a vi.sit." His eye, as he wjis speaking, fell on Clarice. "Why! my little maiden, were you not, frightened at seeing .i ■| CLARICF AND THE STHANQER 1 V ^w it; CLARICE AND THE STllANGER. 75 those fierce horsemen galloping up to your camp?" he asked. "No," she answered simply ; "I trusted in God, for I knew that he would take care of us." The stranger gazed at her with surprise, and said sonictliing which made her look up. " Wliy! don't you always trust in God?" she asked. "I don't think nuich about him; and I don't sup- pose he thinks much about such a wild fellow as I am," he said in a careless tone. " 1 wish you would, then," she .said ; " nobody can he happy if they do not trust in God and accept his oHer of salvation, because they cannot feel .secure for a moment without his love and protection; and they will not know where they are to go to when they le. "1 have not thought about that," .sa: the stranger, in the same tone as before; "and 1 do not suppo.se i am likely to lind it out." "Then let me give you a book," .said Clarice, " which will tell you all about it." She went to the waggon, and brought out a .small Bible. "There! If you will lead that, and do what it tells, you will become wi.se and haj)j)y." " Well, my dear, 1 will accept your book, and do Jis vou advi.se me. I once knew somethinfj jil)out the Bible, liefore I left home, years and yeai*s ago; but I have not looked into one since." Without opening the book, the stranger phiced it in his bresust-pocket ; then, afUn* exchanging a few 1 76 OUR STAY AT FORT KKaRNFY words with my fatlier, who promised to follow his advice, he left the cniiip and rejoined liis companions. My father, being unable to ride without difticulty, had himself jjlaced in the waggon by tin' side oi Clarice ; and the animals being put to, we once more moved on to the westward, while we saw our late visitors take an easterly course. JMy fatlier, however, made but slow progress towards recovery; his wound was more serious than he had supposed, and it was too clear that he was in a very unlit state to undei'go the fatigue of a journey. We at length reached Fort Kearney, on the Phitte River, where we met with a kind reception from the officers of the garrison, while my father received that attention from the surgeon he so much re([uired. The rest of our party were unwilJing to delay longer than was necessary ; but the surgeon assured my father that he would risk his life should he continue, in the state in which he then was, to prosecute his journey. Very unwillingly, therefore, he consented to remain, — for our sakes more than his own, — while our late companions proceeded towards their destination. We here remained several months, of course at great ex- pense, as ])()i\\ our men and animals had to be fed, although we ourselves were entertained without cost by our hospitalile hosts. At last another emigrant train halted at the post, and my father, unwilling longer to trespa.ss on the kindness of his entertainers, insisted on continuing his journey with them. The surgeon warned him that he would do so at great risk; observing that IN A dan(;krous condition. sliould the wound, wliicli wius scarci'ly liealeil, break out again, it would prove a serious mattei*. Still, his desire to be actively engaged in forming the new settlement prevailed over all other considerations, and on a fatal day he started, in company with about a dozen other wai'-jxons. The owners, who were rough farmers, took very little interest eithei- in my p(jor father or in us. We h.'id beca travelling for about ten days or a fort- night when my father again fell ill. He tried to pro- ceed in the waggon, but was unable to bear the jolting ; and we were at lenuth obliired to remain in camp bv ourselves, while the rest of the train continued on the road. Our camp was pitched in an angle formed by a broad stream on the side of a wood, so that we were pretty well protected should enemies on horse- hack attack us. My father proj)osed to remain here to await another emigrant train, hoping in a short time to be sufficiently recovered to move on. But, to our great grief, Clarice and I .saw that he was rapidly sinking. He himself did not appear to be aware of his condition ; and fearinj; that it would aij'a-avatc his .sufferings were he to thiidv he was about to leave us, young as we were, in the mid.st of the wild praii-ie among strangers, we were unwilling to tell him what we thoucrht. The men with us began to grumble at the long delay, and declared their intention of moving forward with the next emigrant train which should come by. But what wa.v our dismay, one morning, to find that both the villains had gone, carrying off the cart, and a 1 i8 MY FATIIKKS DKATll. 1* PI ;■ I considenible amount of our property ! We were not aware at this time, Iiowca er, that tlicy l»ad nuinaj^ed to get hold of tlie eliest which contained our money. Our fatlier was so ill, too, that we did not tell him wiiat had occurred ; and that very evening, as Clarice an« utensils. Clarice was uj) to give us our ^ J breakfast, and I heard the lieutenant tell her how nuich he hoped to meet her again. " Not very likely, in this wild region," she answered with perfect composure, although a slight blush came to her cheek as she spoke. The lieutenant having given directions to Pat to remain and do his duty, — charging him not to get drunk again, and to come on with the sergeant as soon as he was able to travel, — we were on the point of mounting our horses, when Bartle came up. " I thought that I should get something out of our fellows," he said. " Of all the strange things I have 1588; ft 82 DARING DKSRRTKRS. ever lieard of people doing, tlie strnngest is wliat your two troopers are attempting. It seeins tliat the Dutciinian and the Irisli eliap have taken possession of one of our wheelbarrows and a couple of pick-axes and spades, with such other things as they had a fancy for, and liave gone ofi", expecting to make their way to California, where, it is said, gold can be had to any amount by digging for it." "The rascals!" exclaimed the lieutenant; "they will not get there in a hurry, and we shall probably con»e Uj) with them before long." 'They have had a good many days' start of you," observed Bartle, "and if they have kept on going, they must be some distiince on their road i»y this time." "Then we must push on all the faster," said the lieutenant. " I should like to caUh the fellows before the Indians take their scalps; although, when we have got them, it will be ditticult to know what to do with them, a,s they will delay me while they mo\'e slowly along on foot." "Send them back to us; we will soon show them how to use their picks and spades," said Bartle. After the usual hand-shaking at j)arting, and the lieutenant had once niore lifted his cap to Clarice, who stooil at the door watching us, wo set off en on the chance of any Indians coming down upon ns, — although I did not tliiidv that there was mui 1. risk of that; for every one at the farm had been convinced that the Arrapahas had long siiice gone away to the southward, and that we sliould hear no more of thcin. That night we encamju-il at a snug sj)ot near a stream, with a wood to the southward almost siir- idiniding us, so that the liglit of our lii'c could not be seen by any ojie on that side. Tiierc was rich grass for our animals, and they were therefore not likrly to stray. We were both young, in gootl health and spirits, and with no cares to oppress us, so we greatly inijo^ed our bivouac. We sat by the lire chatting away for some time; then we lay (h)wn, wrappe'* Mi our butl'alo robes, to sleep, resolving to awake it intervals, in oi-der to put on fresii fuel, Jis it wa.; in;portant not to let our lire get low. For- tunately, we awoke as often as was ne((dful, and by niaintaiuing a good blaze we k«'pt at a distjince any bears or wolves which miirht have be(;n |)rowlin<' about. The ne.xt morning, at daybreak, w» jnce more moved on. As yet, we had discovered no signs of the runaways; indeed, when we came to think over m ON THK TUAIL. »' M tlio matter, we consiing a bright look- out ahead and on either side. " if the I'eilow.s are still before us, they deserv(» credit for the speed at which they must have been travelling," observed the lieutenant. " Hut, notwithstanding, we shall be up with them beforedark," I exchuined. "Seetlu're!" and 1 pointed to a mark on tlu> grass, which my (piick i'ye had detectey the baggage mules, we should, I was sure, have (juickly overtaken the runaways. I must own, ii. Ihit I would rathe r that those Redskin fellows, if they are enemies, had not been in the neiirhbourhood ; for they mav take it into their heads to pay us a visit while we are encamped at night. Knowing, however, that we are well armed, and likely to be prepared for thorn, they will not attack us openly ; yet they will, if they can, steal up to our cam)), and try to t^dvc us by surpri.se." Our great object now vras to find a secure camping- ground ; .so wo pushed on, and I led my comj)anion across the stream by a lord .somewhat further uj). Ihit still we saw nothing of Klitz or Oillooly, while the A CAMPING-OROUND FOUND. 89 waninfT liorjit prevented me from (Uncovering their trail, liad they crossed wliere we did. Some way ahead was a large wood, wliieli exteiided to the very foot of the mountiiins, and within its recesses we should be aV)le to shelter ourselves from any onset of hoi-senien, although the trees would favour the approach of enemies who might attempt to take us Fty .sur|)rise. We rode on, skirting the forest as long as we had •sufticient light to distinguish objects at any distance, still with the hope that we might Jind the runaways eruNiinped, in case they shoidd not have seen us. Tliat they had not perceived us, near as we were U^ tlit-ni, was quite jjossible, as their backs had been turned towards us the whole time they were in sight; and their moving on so (piickly might be accounted tor by their wish to reach a good spot for camping on before dark. We ourselves, after searching about for some time, and being tmablo to find any traces of them, resolved to encamp in a small recess in the wood which jire- sented '\tsv.\i\ There wjis water near, from a rivulet vvliich came winding through the forest, and plenty of grass. We accoi'dingly hobbled anil stakeil our hoiNcs close at hand ; and we then collected W(»od for our tire, and made down our beils with our .sadilles and horse-cloths. While we were seated at supper, I proposed to my c()m|)anion to go a siiort distance from the wood, that we might commaml a more extensive range of view than we could wliere we were seated; so that 90 KIND INTENTIONS. I 'i h ^ /i I should the runaways be anywhere in tlic neighbour- hood, we miglit iind tliem out by tlic liglit of tlieir tire. No glare appeared, liowevcr, along the whole length of the forest; but still that was no proof tliat they were not somewhere in one of its roee.s.seR, sis, even should they have kindled a fire, the trees might conceal its light from us. Neither of us feeling inclined for sleep, we sat up talking. " I much regret being (d)liged to leave the farm, for 1 confess that T am not<[uite sati.stied about the move- ments of the Indians who have been seen by the chief Winnemak," observed Lieutenant Broadstreet. "Should tlw'V return to the farm, vour friends will be exposed to great danger. 1 pur|>ose, on reaching Fort Harwood, to lay the stJite of the cjuse before the commandant, antl to try and induce him to send me back with a body of men, either to relieve the gar- rison of the farm should it be attacked, or to go in search of the mara\iders." I thanked tlu^ lieutenant kindly for this offer, although I did not suppose tliat Uncle JeH' and his companions would have any difficulty 'u beating off their assaihmts, "As wo must be off by daylight, it is now tin\e to turn in," said the lieutenant. " Sup])ose you keep one eye open, and 1 another! We nnist not, if we can help it, be surprised by wolves or beai's — nor Indians either Itisju.st po.ssible that the fellows whom we siiw in the afternoon may follow us." "Then I will sit up and keep watcii while you ON A WATCH AT MIDNUJHT. 91 Hleep," I said. " If tliey come at all, they will try and steal ui)(jii us when they think that we may be aslcoj)." "1 ni;i'ee to your proposal," answered my com- ptmion. " If you will call me in a cou})lo of hours, I will then take my ti rn, and thus let you have the niorninf^ watch. 1 am accustomed to have my sleep liroken." Nothin*,' occurred duriui,' the fii*st watch, and at tlie end of it I roused up the lieutenant and lay down, I susjiect that he had intended to keep on watch for the rest of the night; but I h.-ippcncd to awake, anuslios would make more noise than tliat. It nnist he some h nnnan homg; perhaps an h In<]i •1 lan, who js wa U'l uns an oj)portunity to sho( t us down."' I kept enmj)let<'1y in the shade, while I turned my eyes in the direction from whence the s(Mind came. I thus hoj)ed, should there be an enemy near, to get sight of him liefon; lie could discover me. On arousing the lieutenant, I told him of the sounds I had heard. "If there are Indians near, we had better at once L'o in search of them," lie answered. 1 1 ia\(! no fancy to be shot down, as yoii suppose it likely we may be; and as it will not do to leave om* iiorses, 1 propose that we mount then>, and try and j)ush through the forest, 'i'lie nioniilight will enable us to make our way without ditru'tdty." I should have preferred going on loot, but, of couise, there was a I'isk, as tln' lieutenant had observed, of oui' horses lu'ing eari'ied otf I therefore thought it wisest to agree to his jn-oposal. Our animals were (luiekK' saddh'd, and we at once j)ushed into the forest. After we had })assed through the outer belt, th(? trees grew wide apait, and as we soon earnt* to .several broa .^>LV'^ ;\ » % V ^