^
 
 OSCAR PETERSON 
 
 RANCHMAN AND RANGER 
 
 BY 
 
 HENRY WILLARD FRENCH 
 
 Author of " Lance of Kanana." 
 
 BOSTON 
 D LOTHROP COMPANY
 
 COPYRIGHT 1893, 
 
 BY 
 D. LOTHROP COMPANY. 
 
 All rights reserved.
 
 2072229
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Chapter Page 
 
 T. COMING EVENTS CAST THEIR SHADOWS 1 
 
 II. WHO FIRED THAT SHOT? ... 11 
 
 TIT. Nuws FROM THE MANSION . . . 22 
 
 IV. OSCAR'S FIRST DUTY . . . . 33 
 
 V. BAGATAAVA ...... 44 
 
 VI. NOT FOR GOLD ' . 67 
 
 VII. AT THE RANCH-HOUSE . . . 82 
 
 VIII. BRIGHTER PROSPECTS . . . 97 
 
 IX. WITH SHOT-GUN AND RIFLE . . 108 
 
 X. OVER'THE PRAIRIE . . . . 131 
 
 XI. OSCAR HAS A PERSONAL EXPERIENCE 153 
 
 XII. THROUGH THE WHEAT FIELDS OF 
 
 DAKOTA . . . . .173 
 
 XIII. A DOUBTFUL HOST .... 192 
 
 XIV. DEAD OR ALIVE 224 
 
 XV. DEADWOOD 256 
 
 XVI. THE INDIAN QUESTION ... 291 
 
 XVII. THE LAST OF THE TRAIL ... 325 
 
 XVIII. THE MAN INSII.I: .... 343 
 
 XIX. "I AM AFRAID TO DIE'' ... 361 
 
 XX. THE PAST AND THE FUTURE 373
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 Held Up! Frontis. 
 
 The First Wolf 5 
 
 The Missing Heel 9 
 
 " Who Fired that Shot? " 13 
 
 A Fight for Life .... 16 
 
 " Wcnononee, Shut the Door!" 23 
 
 Oscar's Two Friends 34 
 
 The Squaw's Cabin 37 
 
 A Conversation Without Words 47 
 
 The Slack Against the White 53 
 
 Bayatawa 62 
 
 Black Dog and his Squaw ...... 65 
 
 " Were You Shaking your Fist at Me?" . . 71 
 
 " Wenononee ! " 78 
 
 Upon his Mission 81 
 
 Weno and Sancho ........ 91 
 
 Weno Paused, to Gather Courage ..... 93 
 
 The Indian Messenger . . . . . . . 104 
 
 He Turned to Run 113 
 
 On the Lake 118 
 
 Every Head Was Lifted 121 
 
 Six Inches from the Mark 127 
 
 It Was an Indian 150
 
 ILL UK Tit A T10NS. 
 
 A Withered Old Medicine-man Appeared . . . 159 
 
 " That Will Do "... V ; ... 164 
 
 Panza Settles the Question 170 
 
 Oscar Looked Eagerly Forward . . 174 
 
 A Run to the Dairy mple Farm . . . jgg 
 
 " That's what I call Farming " . ... . . 190 
 
 Old Settlers . . . . . . . jg^. 
 
 The. Prairie Post-Office 215 
 
 Dead or Alive ....... 227 
 
 They Emerged from the Gulch 253 
 
 Meeting on the Deadwood Trail . . . . .' . 260 
 
 " Only Waiting for a Shore" 263 
 
 They Entered Deadwood . . . .-'-. . . 2G5 
 
 ' ' The, Boy Was Crying " . . . . . . 286 
 
 The Last of Deadwood Gnlch . . . . . . 293 
 
 "Steering over the Trackless Plain" . . . . 303 
 
 "Looking iip the Gorge" . 305 
 
 He Was Pulling off his P>oots . . . . . . 312 
 
 "He Won't Do It Again" . . . ... 317 
 
 The Cowboys' Serenade . . . . .... 323 
 
 A Real Cow-town . . . . . . - . . 327 
 
 " That's what We Shall Indulge In '' . . . 338 
 
 "lam Oscar Peterson" 366
 
 OSCAR PETERSON: 
 
 RANCHMAN AND RANGER. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 COMING EVENTS CAST THEIR SHADOWS. 
 
 " WHO'D have thought the snow could be so deep ? 
 When I left England the grass was green," said Oscar 
 Peterson. 
 
 His father smiled as they tramped along together 
 through the dense forests on the north shore of Mani- 
 toba Lake, where the snow still lay in drifts in the 
 shaded hollows, and his face showed every sign of 
 pride as he watched his only child a strong, sturdy 
 boy of sixteen. Oscar's mother died in that wild 
 frontier country when he was a baby. For five years 
 he had been cared for by an Indian nurse, then for 
 ten years he had been at school in England, and now 
 he had returned for a year before finishing his course. 
 
 " The banks of the Thames at Oxford, and these 
 1
 
 2 COMING EVENTS CAST THEIR SHADOWS. 
 
 forests are two very different places, Oscar," he replied. 
 " The grass is growing green about the village, you 
 know, and in a few days more wild flowers will be in 
 bloom right where these snowdrifts are. Don't make 
 up your mind to be disappointed with Manitoba till 
 you have time to become a little better acquainted." 
 
 " Look here, father, I'm no tenderfoot," Oscar said, 
 laughing as he spoke the name commonly applied to 
 newcomers. " I'll be tougher, of course, when I get 
 my sea-legs on ; but don't you forget that I was born 
 on the shores of Manitoba Lake, and that I'm just as 
 much a part of this country as an Indian. The day 
 after I got home I was out in the sheephouse, and I 
 saw that old sign which you carved for me. Don t 
 you remember it ? It was ' Oscar Peterson : Ranch- 
 man and Ranger.' You nailed it up for me over the 
 shed end of the little log cabin we lived in then. I 
 tell you I was just proud of it ; and while I stood 
 looking at it, the whole time between seemed to vanish. 
 The ten years in Oxford were like a dream. It was a 
 bang-up dream, and I've learned lots that will help me 
 all my life ; but when you come right down to facts, 
 it's hurrah for Manitoba every day of the week, and 
 I'm Oscar Peterson, ranchman and ranger, and you 
 see if I don't make a good one." 
 
 " I'm thinking you'd make a good one, Oscar, what- 
 ever you undertook," replied his father. " Try that, 
 for instance."
 
 COMING EVENTS CAST THEIR SHADOWS. 
 
 The words were not spoken when Oscar's rifle was 
 at his shoulder. It flashed, and a duck fell flopping 
 in the snow. 
 
 "I told you so," Mr. Peterson observed, smiling. 
 " I shall be rather surprised, but very glad, if you con- 
 tinue to like this life after the novelty is worn off. 
 Study has a tendency to make a boy feel too fine for 
 frontier slang and high-topped boots, but it doesn't 
 hurt him for them in any other respect ; and I tell 
 you the wise development of a new country is the 
 grandest thing a fellow can do for the world, and for 
 those who come after him." 
 
 " I'd have come back before if you'd let me," Oscar 
 replied, shaking the snow from the duck and tying it. 
 
 " Indeed I did not want you to," said his father. 
 " Every hour at Oxford will help you at ranching and 
 ranging, if you care to turn it that way. I should not 
 have asked you to come back even for a year, only 
 that I needed you so much. The fact is, I took up a 
 mining claim in the States, and put a man in charge 
 who was very well recommended to me. I have heard 
 that the mine has turned out something wonderful, but 
 I suspect that the agent is a fraud. I must go down 
 and see to it. I may be gone only a month, or it may 
 be all summer, and while I am away you must take 
 charge of the property here. Experience is the best 
 teacher, so you had better run everything just as you 
 like. It will be the quickest way to learn to run them
 
 4 COMING EVENTS CAST THEIR SHADOWS. 
 
 right. I wrote to the agent that I should leave here 
 this month ; but I did not say anything to you about 
 it before, for I didn't want you to have a chance to 
 get too much advice eut of me." 
 
 A low whistle was Oscar's only response, as he 
 slung the duck over his shoulder. " The property " 
 had been wonderfully transformed since he left it, ten 
 years before. Instead of the pioneer's log cabin, he 
 found his father living in a substantial stone house, on 
 the brow of a butte overlooking the lake. Instead of 
 the clearing that surrounded the cabin, he found one 
 of the finest stock farms in the province. Instead of 
 a few huts and wigwams on the lake shore, there was 
 a practical little village, with its store, its church, and 
 its doctor. Instead of vague prospects of ore in the 
 wild lands at the north, there were several successfully 
 operated mines. Instead of buffalo and Indians over 
 the broad prairie to the south and west, there were 
 great fields of wheat near the village, and farther 
 away herds of cattle belonging to his father were pas- 
 tured. They had come up the lake in their yacht to 
 select a site for a saw mill, to open another industry. 
 All of this was included when his father said, " While I 
 am away you must take charge of the property here." 
 No wonder Oscar's only response was a low whistle. 
 
 The whistle was cut short by a series of yelps, and 
 short, sharp barks, followed by the piercing shriek of 
 a horse.
 
 THE KIKST \\<>I,F.
 
 COMING EVENTS CAST THEIR SHADOWS. 7 
 
 " Wolves ! " muttered Mr. Peterson. ' ; And hun- 
 gry ones. They've got a horse. I wonder who brought 
 him up here at this season ? Come on ! " 
 
 Hurrying forward, with their rifles ready, they en- 
 tered a gorge where the snow lay deeper, and soon 
 approached a rude log wigwam. Beyond the tepee a 
 horse lay on the ground, just breathing his last, with 
 four large wolves already beginning their feast. 
 
 " Indians ? " Oscar asked, as they paused for a 
 moment behind the tepee. 
 
 " Not now," replied his father. " Indians may have 
 built it, but the snow lies over the smoke hole. They 
 have not been there for a long time. That is no In- 
 dian pony, either. I think it belongs to Black-dog, 
 a half-breed, who works at the mines, and I wonder 
 how it came up here ? " 
 
 " Can't we get a shot at the wolves, father? " Oscar 
 asked, cautiously peeking about the wigwam. 
 
 His father hesitated a moment. His face showed 
 that he was troubled ; but quickly recovering himself 
 he said, " Why, yes, if you want to ; and of course 
 you do. I forgot that you had not had shooting all 
 your life. If we can do it without disturbing them, 
 let's climb to the top of the tepee. Come carefully. 
 Keep well on this side. There ! Have you a good 
 place ? " 
 
 " Jolly," Oscar replied in a whisper, as he balanced 
 himself and leveled his gun. " Which shall I take ? "
 
 8 COMING EVENTS CAST THEIR SHADOWS. 
 
 " Take the fellow at the throat with one barrel, then 
 swing over to the one next him, on the shoulder. I'll 
 wait, and if you kill them both I'll take another." 
 
 Oscar fired as his father directed, and each wolf 
 with a savage yelp rolled over into the snow. One of 
 the remaining fellows evidently knew what the report 
 of a rifle meant, for, like a flash, he bounded away into 
 the forest. The other stopped to look up at the top 
 of the tepee and show his teeth, with an ugly growl. 
 The next instant he, too, was stretched out upon the 
 snow. 
 
 " Now let's be quick about the skins, Oscar," his 
 father said, slipping down from the tepee, " for it's 
 getting late, and it will take us till long after dark to 
 beat back against the wind, unless it changes." 
 
 Oscar followed him, and they were not long in hav- 
 ing the three skins tied in a bundle, with the skull left 
 upon one of them, to use the brains in dressing them. 
 
 " Seems to me the skins are the heaviest parts of 
 animals," Oscar said, as they put a pole through the 
 cord to carry the bundle between them. His father 
 did not reply at once. He was examining the horse. 
 " It is Black-dog's, as sure as fate," he was saying to 
 himself. " Four white feet, the top of his right ear 
 cut off, and a hump on his hip. I don't believe Black- 
 dog himself ever left him here. " 
 
 They started at a rapid pace for the lake, but a little 
 later Mr. Peterson laid down the pole, and going to
 
 COMING EVENTS CAST THEIR SHADOWS. 
 
 9 
 
 one side bent forward to examine a track in the snow. 
 As Oscar came up he said : " That boot was made in 
 the States, but it has one of Wawanka's slug-holds on 
 the heel. Somebody from the States must have been 
 at the village not very long ago, for the slug is sharp, 
 
 THE MISSING HEEL. 
 
 and that boot would not last to do much tramping 
 through these forests." 
 
 "Here's a track without any hold, father," Oscar 
 said ; and his father, examining it, replied : " It has no 
 heel, either. See ! every other one is that way. The 
 slug on one boot must have dug into a log and torn
 
 10 COMING EVENTS CAST THEIR SHADOWS. 
 
 the heel off. I told you those boots would not last 
 long here. " 
 
 Oscar's eyes were busy in an instant, and following 
 the trail back a little way, he called to his father that 
 he had found it, and with his hunting knife pried the 
 lost heel from the log where the slug had caught. He 
 examined it for a moment, and was about to throw it 
 away when his father said : " Put it in your pocket, 
 Oscar. These tracks may have been made by some 
 one who has been stealing horses. " 
 
 They picked up the skins and went on, but Oscar 
 noticed that the troubled look did not leave his father's 
 face ; that he did not speak again, and that he kept a 
 very close watch in every direction as they advanced. 
 The incidents did not seem to him to amount to any- 
 thing at the time, but before long he was glad to recall 
 even the most trifling of them as something of very 
 grave importance.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 WHO FIRED THAT SHOT? 
 
 THE skins and duck were safely disposed in the 
 yacht. The sail and jib were set. The rifles were 
 carefully placed in the stern. Oscar stood with Ki 
 foot on the rail, with a boat-hook in his hand, holding 
 her to the rock upon which his father was still stand- 
 ing, when his eye caught a mass of tawny fur half-way 
 up the trunk of a pine-tree that had been broken at 
 the roots, but was still standing, leaning against its 
 fellows. " O, father ! what a shot," he cried. "Look 
 at that bear climbing a tree." 
 
 " That is not a bear, Oscar, it is a " - Mr. Peter- 
 son paused abruptly, and Oscar felt a gust of cold 
 wind strike his face, and saw his father look quickly 
 toward the sky. " How those clouds are piling up ! " 
 he exclaimed. " It means a blizzard if it means any- 
 thing, and we don't get home without a struggle." 
 
 " Oh ! but, father, can't I have just one pop ? I'll 
 come back to-morrow for the skin," Oscar pleaded ; 
 
 11
 
 12 WHO FIRED THAT SHOT? 
 
 but another gust of icy-cold wind struck his face at 
 that instant, taking his breath away, and making the 
 yacht reel till he almost lost his hold. " Guess you're 
 right, father," he gasped, tugging on the boat-hook. 
 " Better jump aboard, quick ! " 
 
 Mr. Peterson sprang on to the yacht, but stood for 
 a moment looking anxiously back into the forest. 
 Oscar let her go, and was bending forward adjusting 
 the boat-hook when the sharp report of a rifle rang 
 upon the air. 
 
 As Oscar sprang to his feet and, catching his rifle, 
 threw it to his shoulder, Mr. Peterson sank upon the 
 bottom of the yacht and leaned back against the stern 
 seat. One quick glance told him that his father was 
 wounded, but not killed. 
 
 " Who fired that shot ? " he ejaculated, and stood 
 with his finger on the trigger, and his eyes fixed upon 
 a point in the forest where a thin white cloud of smoke 
 was curling away among the trees. 
 
 " It was a mistake. A friendly Indian. The ball 
 glanced," his father said, in short, gasping sentences. 
 " It is not serious. Get out of this cove. Be quick ! " 
 
 " It was not a mistake, father, and it was not an 
 Indian," Oscar replied, without moving. "Just let 
 me see the tip of his shoulder." 
 
 " Coward ! " he shouted ; " come out from behind 
 those trees." 
 
 " If you wait for him to load he will fire again if
 
 WHO FIRED THAT SHOT? 
 
 18 
 
 he is in earnest. You make a good mark standing 
 there," Mr. Peterson said, in a weak voice ; but Oscar 
 was conscious of a strange feeling which he had never 
 realized before, and which no one can explain or un- 
 derstand who has not felt it. It was more than ven- 
 geance and far more than revenge. It would have 
 
 \ 
 
 "WHO FIRED THAT SHOT?" 
 
 held him there, with his rifle at his shoulder, against 
 all advice or authority, against all reason and in the 
 face of any possible danger, in the one hope of sight- 
 ing that rifle upon the one who had fired the shot at 
 his father.
 
 14 WHO FIRED THAT SHOT ? 
 
 Unnoticed, however, the yacht had been silently 
 gliding down the cove under the effect of the breeze 
 and the circling current. The forerunner of the bliz- 
 zard that had been slashing and swaying the giant 
 pines dropped suddenly. Oscar felt the icy flaw as it 
 struck his face. The same instant he caught the flash 
 of a rifle to the right of where he was looking. Be- 
 fore he could turn sufficiently to fire, before he heard 
 the report even, the yacht had careened till her rail 
 lay on the water, and Oscar was thrown heavily back- 
 ward against the sail. 
 
 .Quickly recovering himself, Oscar found that his 
 father had caught the tiller in his hand, barely saving 
 them from capsizing, while a bullet had cut the sail 
 beside him, and buried itself in the bundle of skins 
 on the seat. 
 
 "That lurch was all that saved you," his father 
 said, as Oscar grasped the tiller and let out the sail 
 just in time to avoid the bristling rocks at the en- 
 trance to the cove. The next moment the yacht swept 
 out on to the lake beyond the ledge, and out of sight 
 of any one in the forest, upon the sheltered bay. But 
 the wind, in irregular, fierce and fitful gusts, came 
 tearing down the lake till Oscar could hardly hold 
 her, with all his strength. 
 
 " Are you much hurt, father ? " he asked, turning 
 anxiously to his father, but forced to look back again 
 even before he was answered.
 
 WHO FIRED THAT SHOT? 15 
 
 " Not much, I hope," said Mr. Peterson. " The 
 ball struck my side, a little above my hip. I am glad 
 you are here. Don't mind me now. You can't do 
 much more than watch the yacht. I'll get up forward, 
 out of the way." 
 
 For a moment the wind, though still fierce, had been 
 steady, and setting the course so that there should be 
 clear sailing room ahead, Oscar made the ropes and 
 tiller fast, and helped his father. Mr. Peterson faintly 
 warned him not to, but he had hardly strength to 
 speak, much less to get forward by himself. He tried 
 to make light of it, that Oscar should not know, but 
 the moment he reached the spot he sank, unconscious, 
 by the mast. As he felt himself fainting he roused 
 enough to whisper: "Too much sail, Oscar. Be 
 quick!" 
 
 Indeed he had to be very quick. Another fierce 
 flaw had struck the yacht. He drew his hunting 
 knife and cut the tiller free, then sprang to the sail. 
 There was no time to unwind the ropes. He cut them, 
 too, as quickly as the sharp blade could sever them. 
 The great sail bulged, and for an instant Oscar 
 thought they must surely go over, but he caught the 
 tiller and dragged it round with all his strength. The 
 sudden motion relieved the strain for an instant, and 
 the sail came rattling down. There was no time to 
 stop and think what next to do, however. The sud- 
 den gust was not followed by a lull, but by another
 
 16 
 
 WHO FIRED THAT SHOT ? 
 
 and another, each fiercer and colder than the last, till 
 the wind howled and roared along the lake, the water 
 flew like rain from the tops of the rising waves, and 
 the ropes twanged like bowstrings. Only the jib was 
 out, but the strain upon that 
 was terrible. He tried to bring 
 the yacht about a little to relieve 
 it, but the moment the 
 wind caught the broadside 
 
 A FIGHT FOR LIFE. 
 
 it lifted it clear out of the water till the lee rail dipped. 
 Back again went the tiller just as the rudder itself 
 was being lifted out of the w r ater, and before the jib 
 could break away, like a flash Oscar unwound the rope 
 and twisted it about his own arm. It was the only 
 way that he could manage it.
 
 WHO FIRED THAT SHOT? 17 
 
 If that jib or jib line broke, the wind would roll 
 them over as it pleased. One moment he must let 
 it loose to save it, the next he must drag upon it 
 for his very life. The wind blew harder and harder, 
 and the waves rose higher and higher, till suddenly a 
 torrent of icy rain broke from the dense clouds, then 
 changed to sleet, then to snow, and then to rain again, 
 while the fierce wind froze it where it fell. 
 
 Winding the rope around his leg to hold it, Oscar 
 tore off his overcoat and leather jacket, and, springing 
 forward, threw them -over his father. He bent down 
 for an instant, to be sure that he was breathing, and 
 back again to his post. They were tossed and whirled 
 from wave to wave in the blinding rain and sleet. Ice 
 formed on the ropes and rail, and icicles hung from 
 the sail that lay in a mass where it had fallen. 
 
 He had lost his hat in the cove, and icicles hung 
 from his thick brown hair as he sat in his shirt sleeves, 
 drenched to the skin, holding the tiller under his knee, 
 and tugging upon the rope that was twisted round 
 his arm. 
 
 " There's no use trying to run ashore this side of 
 home," he muttered. " It would only mean staying 
 there all night, and we might as well go to the bottom. 
 No ! I'll keep her up if she'll stand it, and I'll keep 
 her nose toward home." 
 
 "We're going at a frightful rate. We must be 
 almost there," he said a little later, to cheer himself ;
 
 18 WHO FIRED THAT SHOT? 
 
 for his hands were so numb that he had to watch them 
 to see that the rope was held fast and not slipping 
 through his fingers ; and it began to be evident that 
 he could not hold out much longer. 
 
 The yacht reeled and trembled as it leaped forward 
 in its desperate struggle. It seemed to Oscar that he 
 had been there for hours when, at last, through the 
 rain and sleet he discerned the faint outline of the 
 village, far in the distance, and a little to his right. 
 He shuddered as he saw how hard it was for his stiff- 
 ened muscles to bend and change the course, and a 
 dull, cold tremor crept over him with the conviction 
 that he could not do it. Home was too far away. 
 With every lurch he thought the yacht was going 
 under, and it began to seem as though he did not care 
 much if she did. 
 
 What ! He started with a shiver. Did not care ? 
 He cast one quick glance toward the white, still face 
 beside the mast. Did not care ? " The wind is still 
 rising. It is not that I am giving out," he gasped. 
 And as he ground his teeth he muttered, " Oscar 
 Peterson, don't you dare give out ! Do you hear 
 me?" and he gave the rope another twist about his 
 arm. 
 
 What was that ? Was some one calling ? He lis- 
 tened intently. It sounded again. Above the shriek- 
 ing of the wind he heard the shrill cry which an Indian 
 can send so far. His eyes were almost blinded by
 
 WHO FIRED THAT SHOT? 19 
 
 the storm, but after searching for a moment he dis- 
 covered a canoe approaching with a single Indian. It 
 seemed as though the little thing must swamp. Every 
 wave that rushed toward it was ready to engulf it, but 
 keeping the bow in the eye of the wind the Indian 
 paddled it swiftly and steadily nearer and nearer. At 
 last it was not more than twenty feet away, but as he 
 rose above it on a wave he saw to his horror that 
 it was filling with water, and was almost beyond the 
 Indian's control; while worse yet, at the rate and 
 course of the yacht, he was going to pass it, out of 
 reach, and leave it behind. 
 
 Gathering all his strength he made one tremendous 
 effort. He braced his feet upon the rail, leaned back 
 upon the tiller and, as far out as his arm would reach, 
 left the jib line slack. But his feet were numb with 
 cold. His legs were cramped and half-frozen. The 
 position was a dangerous one at the best, and when 
 the yacht reeled and lunged, in answering the helm, 
 his foot slipped, and before he could make one motion 
 to save himself, the tightening jib line dragged him 
 over and he slid into the water. 
 
 Even then he only half -realized that it was he him- 
 self who was overboard, and that he must do some- 
 thing or drown. The water was warmer than the 
 wind, and his first thought was that he was more com- 
 fortable there. But something began pulling fiercely 
 upon his arm. He thought of the jib line he had
 
 20 WHO FIRED THAT SHOT? 
 
 twisted there. It roused him, and he clutched it in 
 both hands. In reality he not only saved himself, but 
 saved the yacht by doing so. 
 
 As his head came out of water he gulped a breath 
 before it was dragged im^er again. When he came 
 up again he was close beside the yacht, and some one 
 was pulling on the rope. Then some one was pulling 
 on his arm. The Indian was leaning over him. He 
 heard a voice say, " Young master, hold fast. Heap 
 big storm, but all come right," and a moment later he 
 was dragging himself into the yacht, while the Indian 
 quickly unwound the rope, caught the tiller, and skill- 
 fully brought the yacht back into her course. 
 
 " Young master go see father," said the Indian. 
 " Me heap good sail canoe. Heap time sail wid father." 
 
 For an instant Oscar stood clutching the mast and 
 staring at the little figure so quietly and skillfully 
 managing the helm. It was not a veteran brave or 
 even a young buck who had dared to face that 
 fearful storm in a frail canoe to lend him aid. It 
 was a little Indian girl. He was too bewildered, how- 
 ever, to fully comprehend it all, and chiefly realizing 
 that one who understood the work had relieved him, 
 and that he was free at last to care for his father, he 
 knelt beside the prostrate form and at once became 
 oblivious to everything else, even to the danger which 
 still was so great. 
 
 He did not realize whether much or little time had
 
 WHO FIRED THAT SHOT? 21 
 
 passed, when he was roused by a sudden thump that 
 started the seams, stove a hole in the bottom of the 
 yacht, and drove out the mast. Then all was still. 
 
 The mast and rigging fell across him so that he 
 could not move, for a moment, and while he was free- 
 ing himself he heard the Indian say, " No mean do 
 dat. Heap try get shore quick." When he lifted 
 his head and looked about him the Indian girl had 
 disappeared, but the yacht lay fast between two rocks 
 well up the shore. 
 
 Other voices sounded, and in a moment the yacht 
 was surrounded by a throng of rough-handed, coarse- 
 tongued, tender-hearted frontier settlers, all ready to 
 do their best for the master whom they all loved. 
 
 In the gathering dusk they made a rude litter of the 
 seats of the yacht. They laid their coats upon it to 
 make it as comfortable as possible, and, placing the 
 unconscious form of Mr. Peterson there, they lifted it 
 upon their shoulders as tenderly as rough men could, 
 and started, in the darkness which had suddenly closed 
 in, through the village street and up the butte to the 
 stone mansion of the master. 
 
 At every step of the way the little procession in- 
 creased. Women came out with lanterns to lead the 
 way. Children, sobbing and trembling, timidly fol- 
 lowed on behind. The doctor was there and the 
 minister. Indians and half-breeds were there. Every 
 one who could be was there.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 NEWS FROM THE MANSION. 
 
 " SHUT the door, Wenononee ! Shut the door ! " 
 cried old Wetamoc, an Indian squaw, throwing her 
 arm over a bundle of dried sweet grass lying on a 
 chair beside her, while she drew her blanket about a 
 pile of bright-colored shavings from which she was 
 weaving baskets, as her granddaughter entered the log 
 cabin and with her a savage gust of wind, rain and 
 sleet. It pulled the door away from Wenononee the 
 moment she lifted the latch, and made a grand rush 
 through the cabin and into the fireplace, tossing the 
 ashes in every direction. 
 
 The Indian girl caught it quickly, and bracing her 
 moccasined feet on the earth floor and her shoulder 
 against the heavy oak door, she pushed with all her 
 strength before she could force it back. Gust after 
 gust swept against it, and the door shivered and creaked 
 on its iron hinges before it settled into its place and the 
 broad wooden latch fell into the slot to hold it there. 
 
 *- 22
 
 NEWS FROM THE MANSION. 
 
 23 
 
 For a moment Weno did not move, but stood with 
 her cheek resting on her extended arm, the rain drip- 
 ping from her long black hair and loose dress, and 
 gathering in little pools upon the floor about her feet. 
 Solemnly and slowly, in true Indian instinct, her bright 
 
 WENONONKE, SHUT THE UOOlt!" 
 
 black eyes wandered from one object to another about 
 the room, as though they were something new to her, 
 and not at all as though she had been born within a 
 stone's throw, and had lived in that log cabin almost 
 all her life.
 
 24 NEWS FROM THE MANSION. 
 
 It was no tepee, but a very sumptuous wigwam for 
 an Indian in the province of Manitoba. It was a sub- 
 stantial cabin, with the logs hewn smooth on the inside, 
 and the chinks well filled with clay. There was real 
 glass in the windows, a solid stone chimney, a broad 
 fireplace and a little room overhead which Weno called 
 her own. 
 
 Wenononee lived here with her mother and grand- 
 mother. Her father and grandfather were killed be- 
 fore she was born. The village had grown up about 
 the cabin, and it now stood in the very center of the 
 settlement, between the village street and the lake ; 
 though only sixteen years before it was a solitary 
 pioneer's cabin, in the midst of a great wilderness, 
 surrounded by wandering tribes and wild animals. 
 Mr. Peterson was the pioneer, and it was here where 
 his son was born, here where his young wife died. It 
 was here where Weno's mother came to nurse the little 
 pale face baby, and at the shed end of this same cabin 
 the little sign once hung : " Oscar Peterson : Ranchman 
 and Ranger." 
 
 During the half-breed insurrection, Weno's father 
 and grandfather renounced their tribe to defend this 
 pioneer cabin. With Mr. Peterson they held it till 
 General Lord Wolseley put an end to the insurrection. 
 But they were branded as traitors by their people, and 
 an Indian never forgets. Shortly after the war they 
 were both killed while out hunting. No one ever
 
 NEWS FROM THE MANSION. 25 
 
 knew why or by whom, yet no one doubted that it was 
 their reward for having defended the pale face pioneer. 
 Mr. Peterson gave the log cabin to the two squaws 
 for their home, and had never ceased to provide for 
 them in every way. It was only a verbal gift lest, if 
 the property were legally theirs, they might foolishly 
 dispose of it, to their own sorrow, as so many Indians 
 have done before and since. No one who knew Mr. 
 Peterson, however, ever doubted that his word was as 
 good as his deed, and that the log cabin and the little 
 farm extending to the lake belonged to the Indian 
 squaws just as truly as though a dozen deeds were 
 recorded in their favor. 
 
 It was not a long journey for Wenononee's eyes to 
 wander about the room. Here and there a bright-col- 
 ored print was fastened to the wall. Bunches of dried 
 grass and narrow strips of dyed wood hung from the 
 rafters. A lump of smoked venison was swinging on 
 its string with a bunch of dried golden-rod on one side, 
 and onions on the other. Indian shawls and blankets, 
 beads and belts, leggings and moccasins hung on the 
 wall or lay in a pile in the corner ; for Wenononee's 
 people were no half-breeds. They were true Indians, 
 of the tribe of Hiawatha, and they were very proud of 
 it. Not a word of English was ever heard in the cabin, 
 and in the peculiar characteristic, so common among 
 border Indians, the squaws would not even admit that 
 they so much as understood a word of it. Weno, how-
 
 26 NEWS FROM THE MANSION. 
 
 ever, had attended the English school in the village to 
 please " The Master," as, high and low, far and near, 
 they all called Mr. Peterson ; but she was still an 
 Indian. Then there were skins upon the earth floor 
 and skins upon the wall. There were two pairs of ant- 
 lers, of which Weno was quietly very proud as the 
 result of her own hunting bows and arrows, an old 
 gun and no end of litter ; otherwise it would not have 
 been an Indian's wigwam. 
 
 Against the wall at one end of the room there were 
 two box beds, one above the other. In one of them 
 Weno's mother was lying, slowly dying of that com- 
 bination of lung troubles which is destined, in time, 
 to settle the Indian question in America without the 
 aid of cruel and unjust legislation. 
 
 Beyond the beds and near the fire, Wetamoc, the 
 old grandmother, sat upon a skin on the floor, using a 
 chair to hold her grasses. Then came the fireplace, 
 with its embers and ashes lying about in confusion, 
 where the wind had left them. 
 
 When her eyes reached this point Wenononee turned 
 slowly from the door, crossed the room, and began re- 
 placing the fallen sticks and poking back the glowing 
 coals, while she sang a quaint Indian song. Aided by 
 the brighter light and inspired by the song, the old 
 squaw's fingers flew among the colored shavings and 
 sweet grasses till one could see the basket growing 
 under her touch.
 
 NEWS FROM THE MANSION. 27 
 
 Weno paused in the song for a moment and, with a 
 shudder, muttered, " It is awful on the lake." The 
 old squaw gave a peculiar grunt, but did not look np 
 from her basket. 
 
 " The master was out in it, and the young master, 
 in the bird canoe," Wenononee said a little later, as 
 she still crouched before the fire, looking steadily into 
 the glowing coals. 
 
 Again the old squaw responded with a grunt. It 
 was different from the other, however, and one who 
 understands the Indian understands his grunts as well 
 as spoken words. 
 
 "They might have been drowned," Wenononee 
 added ; and the old squaw paused in her work to lift 
 her hand and make a circle in the air, saying, as plain 
 as words, that all things are in the hands of the Great 
 Spirit. 
 
 Wenononee shook her head slowly, as though she 
 were not quite sure of that philosophy, and, after a 
 pause, continued : " The master has been badly hurt, 
 and the young master fell into the water and would 
 have drowned, they say, if it had not been for an In- 
 dian." But the stoical old squaw only responded with 
 another grunt and another circle in the air. 
 
 Weno sat for some time in silence, trying to solve, 
 in Indian fashion, the great orthodox problem of fore- 
 ordination and free agency, while she wrung the water 
 out of her hair, letting it fall into the ashes.
 
 28 NEWS FROM THE MANSION. 
 
 u Like these drops of water are we all," she whis- 
 pered. " We were not, we are, we shall not be. We 
 come, we hurry, we go. Who knows and can say 
 more ? " 
 
 With a sigh she turned and threw herself upon 
 the skin beside her grandmother, with her face rest- 
 ing in her hands, her elbows on the skin. She lay 
 there in silence for a while, watching the old squaw's 
 fingers long, and gaunt, and ghostly, in the flicker- 
 ing firelight deftly and swiftly twisting the shavings 
 and braiding the grasses. 
 
 " Was it so very much that my father and grand- 
 father did for the master that he has always been so 
 good to us ? " she asked, at last. 
 
 The old squaw's hands dropped upon her knee, 
 and for a moment she sat staring over Weno's head 
 into the fire beyond. The sudden question had re- 
 called those terrible days before the child was born, 
 and in the howling of the storm as it lashed the rain 
 and sleet against the windows, and in the deep thunder 
 of the waves she heard again the war-whoop of her 
 tribe, the clatter of their horses' hoofs, the splash of 
 their thousand paddles, the twang of their bowstrings 
 and the whirr of their arrows. Her old eyes shone 
 and flashed in the firelight. Her face lost its wrinkles 
 and a deep frown gathered upon her forehead. 
 
 With instinctive admiration Wenononee lay watch- 
 ing the old squaw. She knew the story of Wetamoc's
 
 NEWS FROM THE MANSION. 29 
 
 marriage, well ; how the brave who led her to his wig- 
 wam was then one of the great chiefs of the tribe, and 
 how they all said that of all the women he could 
 not have chosen a better wife. And Wenononee was 
 enough of a true Indian still to recognize and appre- 
 ciate the qualities which had made Wetamoc worthy. 
 She loved the wild, roving life of her people; she 
 could not help it ; and the warm weather rarely found 
 Weno sleeping under the roof of the log cabin. She 
 could shoot an arrow straighter than any Indian boy 
 of her age who came to the village. She could ride 
 the wildest pony in Manitoba, or paddle a canoe as 
 skillfully as any brave. She knew where game was 
 found and how to trap it ; and with the old rifle which 
 the master had given to her father she could shoot in 
 a way that put to shame many of the settlers who. 
 were much better equipped. She possessed all of the^ 
 Indian instincts of loyalty, too, and when the vision^ 
 had passed away, and with a grunt Wetamoc returned 
 to her work, though Weno did not think it wise to 
 repeat the same question, she asked another in the 
 same line. 
 
 " If we were ever in trouble the master has given 
 us aid ? " she said. 
 
 Wetamoc assented with a grunt. 
 
 " If the master or the young master were to be in 
 trouble again wouldn't it be our duty to " 
 
 Weno paused abruptly, lifted her head, listened
 
 30 NEWS FROM THE MANSION. 
 
 intently for an instant, then sprang to her feet and 
 hurried out of the cabin, pulling the door after her be- 
 fore the tempest had time to discover that it was open. 
 
 The moment the door was closed her hands fell 
 idly by her side. She stood still in the darkness, 
 silently watching the glimmer of the lanterns which 
 some of the settlers were carrying in advance of the 
 men who bore the litter, as the solemn procession 
 moved up the village street toward the stone mansion 
 on the hill. 
 
 As it came nearer Wenononee shrank back into the 
 open shed at the entrance to which Oscar's sign once 
 hung. 
 
 It was a curious throng that slowly and solemnly 
 tramped past the log cabin, weird and strange in the 
 flickering light of the lanterns that left many black 
 shadows and slowly moving mysteries unsolved. There 
 were German peasants in their rough, dark clothes 
 and small flap caps, Frenchmen and half-breeds in 
 jaunty buckskin jackets and bright-colored scarfs, In- 
 dians in their blankets, shod with moccasins, gliding 
 noiselessly on, like ghosts, and Scotch farmers and 
 rough English miners making as much noise with their 
 feet as a horse. In the center the litter was borne 
 upon men's shoulders, and notwithstanding the storm 
 and night, the rough men who bore it walked with 
 uncovered heads. Behind the litter walked the doctor 
 and the minister, and between them they were sup-
 
 NEWS FROM THE MANSION.- 31 
 
 porting him, each holding an arm was Oscar Peter- 
 son. When they had passed, Wenononee came from 
 her hiding-place and followed with those who were 
 walking in the rear. 
 
 It was broad daylight when Weno returned to the 
 cabin. The storm had blown itself away and given 
 up its struggle to bring the winter back again. The 
 bright sun was streaming through the east window as 
 though there never had been and never could be any- 
 thing but beautiful warm spring days. The invalid 
 was propped up upon the box bed eating her break- 
 fast, and old Wetamoc was still cooking over the last 
 embers. No one asked a question as Wenononee 
 entered, for she was an Indian and they were Indi- 
 ans. They simply grunted the usual greeting, to which 
 she responded, and Wetamoc put some food upon 
 the corner of the hearth. But Weno turned away 
 from it and silently threw herself upon a skin near 
 the bed. 
 
 For an hour she lay there, and not a word was 
 spoken in the cabin. The mother finished her break- 
 fast and took from a pouch hanging beside her a piece 
 of skin from which she was working a pair of leggings. 
 The grandmother smoked her red clay pipe and 
 braided the grasses. 
 
 From the council fires of the greatest chiefs and the 
 powwows of the tribes to the lodge-fire of the medi- 
 cine man, the pot-fires of the tepee and the hearth of
 
 32 NEWS FROM THE MANSION. 
 
 the most civilized wigwam where au Indian ever was 
 himself, it has always been in much this same fashion 
 that the most startling and important revelations have 
 been made. It was simple nature. Wenononee could 
 not help it; and when at last she spoke, it was to 
 repeat only four words : 
 " The master is dead !
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 OSCAR'S FIRST DUTY. 
 
 OSCAR had not a near relative in the world. Both 
 in England and America there were friends almost 
 without number who were ready to extend to him 
 their sympathy, but he had seen enough of the world 
 to know that if he had been left destitute instead of 
 " the young master " of so much property, he would 
 not have received half so much sympathy. He did 
 not feel competent to judge among them for some one 
 to trust in his present emergency. 
 
 His father had rallied a moment before he died, but 
 Oscar did not see him. His own life was hanging by 
 a thread that night, and his mind was wandering. 
 He only knew that they asked who fired the shot, and 
 that his father replied, as he did on the yacht : " It 
 must have been a mistake. The ball must have 
 glanced." With that the people were satisfied, saying 
 that it was probably some Indian hunter. 
 
 They asked Oscar the same question, but until he 
 33
 
 34 
 
 OSCAR S FIRST DUTY. 
 
 could make up his mind why it was that his father 
 insisted upon that reply he too said, simply, " I do not 
 know." Then he would grind his teeth and say to 
 himself : " But I will know; for it was not a mistake, 
 
 ~ ,4 < 
 
 1 ifl \ 
 
 _flfe==. l f ' pftirrfo,,, 1 
 
 " / 
 
 OSCAR'S TWO FRIENDS. 
 
 and it was not an Indian. That is my first duty, and 
 I will do it." 
 
 Oscar had two dear friends. They came to him 
 from Manitoba to Oxford, as a Christmas gift from 
 his father, a year before, and now they had come back 
 with him to Manitoba. One was a horse the finest 
 colt that had been raised upon a stock farm. The
 
 OSCAR'S FIRST DUTY. 35 
 
 other was a clog which Oscar, at least, considered a 
 match for any setter in the country. He was reading 
 Don Quixote when they arrived, and he named the 
 horse Sancho, and the dog Panza, after the famous 
 esquire of that old Spanish satire. The boys laughed 
 at him for his choice, but he said that whenever he 
 spoke their names he thought of the jolly old squire, 
 and it made him want to laugh, so he was satisfied. 
 
 Now they were dearer to him than ever, and the 
 three were together almost all the time. They thought 
 as much of each other and of Oscar as he thought of 
 them. Panza would go to the stable for Sancho and 
 take him back, and Sancho was thoroughly satisfied 
 to trot away with Panza upon his back, holding the 
 reins in her jaws. It was astonishing to see how 
 carefully he would step, trying to keep the saddle 
 steady, always holding his head on one side to watch 
 and see that she did not fall. When they reached 
 their destination and Panza jumped, Sancho would 
 squeal and apparently do his best to nab her ; but 
 either he never really tried or Panza was always too 
 quick for him, for he never succeeded. If any one 
 else attempted to mount, however, Sancho began in 
 right good earnest, and he must be an excellent horse- 
 man who could gain the saddle at all, much less keep it. 
 
 With these two Oscar started to perform his first 
 duty. As he rode down the village street he was sur- 
 prised at the cordial greetings he received from every
 
 36 OSCAR'S FIRST DUTY. 
 
 one. They all knew him, and their eagerness to be 
 friendly made him stronger and braver, even though he 
 did not know them. When they were passing the log 
 cabin he paused for a moment, thinking of the time 
 when he had lived there. His eyes turned toward the 
 shed almost as though he expected to find the little 
 sign still hanging there. In a moment the oak door 
 was opened and the old squaw appeared, bobbing and 
 grunting a welcome. 
 
 " How do you do, Wetamoc ? " Oscar exclaimed, rid- 
 ing up and offering her his hand. " I should know 
 you anywhere. I used to be afraid of you, but I'm 
 not afraid now." 
 
 " No, no ! " she replied, taking his hands in both of 
 hers. " No fear Wetamoc. Heap friend." Then she 
 looked about her with a quick, half-frightened glance, 
 to be sure that no one had heard her speaking English. 
 
 " Wetamoc's brave and her son were very kind to 
 my father. I shall never forget it," Oscar said; and 
 while the old squaw pressed his hand to her wrinkled 
 cheek he asked, "Where is Mama, the young squaw ? 
 I remember very well when she was my nurse." 
 
 "Mama seek. Soon die," replied Wetamoc sadly ; 
 and then in the universal sign language of the Indians 
 she asked him to come in and see her daughter. 
 Quickly dismounting, Oscar threw the reins to Panza 
 and hurried across the cabin to the box bed where the 
 invalid sat.
 
 OSCAR S FIRST DUTY. 
 
 37 
 
 She took his hand and kissed it, and the tears rolled 
 down her sunken cheeks as she gently touched his 
 brown curls and whispered, " Pretty ! pretty ! You 
 pappoose me." Then she took a pair of leggings and 
 moccasins from the pouch beside her and gave them 
 to him. She had evidently worked them as a gift to 
 
 THE SQUAW'S CABIN. 
 
 the young master when he should come back, and she 
 was celebrated for her beautiful handiwork. 
 
 Oscar realized at a glance that these were by far the 
 finest he had ever seen. He tried to speak, but some- 
 thing choked him. He could only look his thanks and
 
 38 OSCAR'S FIRST DUTY. 
 
 press his old nurse's hand. After waiting a moment 
 he asked, " Where is the little one the pappoose ? 
 I can just remember her." 
 
 The mother was too weak to call, but Wetamoc 
 gave a shrill Indian cry and shouted, " Weno ! 
 Wenononee ! " 
 
 Had Oscar looked directly above his head, through 
 the hole leading to the little room under the roof, he 
 would have seen one stray lock of glossy black hair 
 and two bright black eyes appearing just over the 
 edge. But he did not look, and as there was no re- 
 sponse he took from behind his saddle (where he had 
 bound it in the common custom of the country) a 
 blanket robe which he had brought from England, 
 gave it to his old nurse, and rode away to Wawanka's 
 wigwam. 
 
 So far as an Indian could be, Wawanka was the 
 village shoemaker. He had outlived his usefulness in 
 the forest, and settled down near the village ; for aside 
 from his skill in making leggings and moccasins for 
 his own people he made a strong, high-topped boot 
 of tough, soft leather, which was popular among the 
 farmers, and had invented a curious kind of iron claw, 
 which he called slug-holds, and fastened on the heels 
 of modern boots to prevent them from slipping when 
 climbing over fallen logs or icy rocks, in the winter. 
 They were in great demand among the hunters and 
 lumbermen. When it was absolutely necessary, Wa-
 
 OSCAR'S FIRST DUTY. 39 
 
 wanka would repair a strictly pale face boot or shoe, 
 but he did not like to, and avoided it if possible. 
 
 Oscar sat down on one end of his bench and watched 
 him for a time in silence. This was quite in accord 
 with Indian etiquette. The more important the errand 
 which calls one to another's wigwam the less inclined 
 he is to make any sudden declaration, and Oscar's first 
 five years with his Indian nurse had given him many 
 a trait which he himself did not appreciate, but which 
 was fully in accord with the established rites of the 
 red men. The boys at Oxford always called him odd. 
 It had troubled him, and he had tried to discover and 
 overcome the oddities, but never once came near enough 
 the truth to realize that they were only the intuitive 
 instincts and traits of his Indian nurse transplanted 
 into his own boyhood. So Wawanka grunted a wel- 
 come, brushed the dust from the end of the low bench 
 where he kept his leather and tools, and silently went 
 on with his work, and when Oscar sat down in silence 
 and watched him it did not seem odd to either of them. 
 
 Wawanka was taking some well-worn slug-holds 
 from a pair of boots. The summer had come in good 
 earnest, and there was no more need of them. 
 
 "Those are great," Oscar said, at last. 
 
 The Indian grunted. " Pale face boots no slug, no 
 good," he said, a little scornfully. 
 
 " Which are the best, Wawanka, boots made here or 
 in the States ? " Oscar asked.
 
 40 OSCAR'S FIRST DUTY. 
 
 / 
 "Both no good," replied the Indian, decidedly. 
 
 " State boot heel no good. Heap no good." Wa- 
 wanka was fumbling about under his bench, and now 
 pulled out a pair of boots which he held bottom up, 
 and Oscar's heart stood still as he looked at a pair 
 of " State " boots with one missing heel. " Black-dog 
 bring boot Wawanka' s wigwam. Want slug. Pale 
 face go hunting. Black-dog guide. Two days pale 
 face come. Swear Wawanka heap big cheat. Take 
 pair new Indian boot. No pay. Ugh ! " and the 
 Indian settled back to his work. 
 
 " Do you know the name of the pale face ? " Oscar 
 asked. 
 
 Wawanka grunted savagely, and finally replied : 
 " No see just once. Heap bad. Good no stop. Heap 
 big. Bottom part here gone." He took the end of 
 his little finger between his thumb and forefinger, and 
 then turned to his work again. 
 
 This was all that Oscar could get out of him, so he 
 purchased the boots, much to the delight of the Indian, 
 and rode away to the mines to find Black-dog. But 
 Black-dog was not to be found. 
 
 " He's a slip'ry skunk, ef ever thar war one," said 
 an old miner who had charge of the division where 
 Black-dog was supposed to work. " Never wus a bad 
 row in these parts but Black-dog was skulkin' roun' 
 sumwhar on the outskirts, jest too fur away to ketch. 
 He's lugged more dirt^mean whiskey inter these dig-
 
 OSCAR'S FIRST DUTY. 41 
 
 gin's nor all the rest combined. The day afore yer 
 father got got hurt," said the miner, trying in 
 his rough way to speak as gently as possible of the 
 sad event, " he wus here to the mines an' gin Black- 
 dog a good lay out. He told him he wus goin' up the 
 lake the next day fur to peck out a place fur a saw- 
 mill, an' thet he might go up thar an' go ter lumberin' 
 or leave the place altergether, es he wudn't hev him 
 round no longer. I heer'd thet much myself ; an' thet 
 night he wus gone, takin' his hoss, but leavin' his cart 
 an' his squaw. Pie allers takes them 'long with him 
 when he's arter whiskey, so I reckoned he'd gone ter 
 the woods ; but next night she lit out. She'd be 
 wuss'n him ef thet war convenient. Waal, she tuk 
 the cart an' Ben Billin's's hoss. Got a big white face 
 an' a chopped-off mane, an' one white foot. Ben don't 
 say 's she stole et, but she borred et 'out leave or 
 license, an' he'd be proper glad to git et back ag'in." 
 
 Oscar only waited for him to pause when he asked 
 eagerly, " Had Black-dog's horse four white feet, a 
 piece cut from his ear, and " 
 
 " An' a hump on his hip ? Thet's him," the miner 
 interrupted. 
 
 " Do you know what firearms he carried ? " Oscar 
 asked. 
 
 " Reckon he hed an old navy most on 'em do," 
 replied the miner ; " an' fur the rest he owned an ole 
 double-barreled shot-gun."
 
 42 OSCAR'S FIKST DUTY. 
 
 " And an English rifle ? " 
 
 " Lord, no ! He never went inter shootin' irons 
 thet luxurious unless'n he stole 'em ; an' he hain't bin 
 nowhar to steal one fur the last month ; an' he wudn't 
 'a' been two hours in swappin' et off ef he hed." 
 
 Here the miner stopped short for a moment, looked 
 keenly at Oscar and exclaimed : "I say, young master, 
 ye been't a-thinkin' et mought 'a' bin him es es 
 fired, up in the woods ? " 
 
 " I hardly know what to think," Oscar replied. 
 " His horse was left by a deserted tepee, and I saw it 
 killed by wolves not over half a mile away." 
 
 The miner stood for a moment whistling and looking 
 away over the lake, then he sat down on a rock and 
 replied : " Look a-here, young master, you jest hold 
 yer hosses or they'll run yer inter a detch on thet trail. 
 Black-dog wus a pesky good trapper. He know'd them 
 woods ef ever any one ded, an' he never lef thet hoss 
 o' his'n war he'd be eet up by wolves. He was a tarnal 
 coward, an' ef he'd know'd the master wus thar, es he 
 ded, he'd never 'a' called attention to his wharabouts 
 by shootin', countin' 'twus a mistake ; whiles ownin' to 
 his hands a-shakin', frum suthin' like p'ralisis, he's 
 sech an everlastin' poor shot thet he'd never 'a' dar'd 
 ter resk tryin', hed he 'a' bin in arnest. He mought 
 'a' let his hoss out, or he mought 'a' gone es guide fur 
 summon es ded, knowin' or not knowin', es the case 
 may be ; but Black-dog never ded thet thing himself.
 
 OSCAR'S FIRST DUTY. 43 
 
 Ye kin sot yer stakes on thet claim, young master, an' 
 be sure o' strikin' the right vein." 
 
 " Have you any idea where I can find him ? " Oscar 
 asked. 
 
 "Likeliest way is ter wait fur him," said the miner. 
 " A bad penny's putty sartin' to turn up ag'in. The 
 Injuns come outer the woods 'long in March, ye know, 
 an' 'bout this time they've got their tradin' done, an' 
 I hear thar's a big bunch campin' down nigh Neepawa, 
 whar they'll likely be havin' their spring games 'bout 
 now. 'Twould be jest one o' his dirty tricks to hustle 
 a lot o' mean whiskey in amongst 'em, ef he cud steal 
 or smuggle et." 
 
 " How does he look ? " Oscar inquired, eagerly. 
 
 " Yer must wanter see Black-dog more'n most folks 
 ef yer'd foller him to Neepawa," observed the miner. 
 " But ye cudn't miss him ef ye once sot eye on him. 
 He's the doggonedest critter thet ever ye see. An' 
 his squaw's another jest like him. Yer'd know him 
 by the hoss an' by his big fur cap. He wars et win- 
 ter'n summer. They say et's 'cause he's pesky 'feared 
 o' gittin' his skull cracked in some row." 
 
 This was all the information which Oscar could 
 obtain, and with it he rode home to prepare for a trip 
 to the Indian encampment on the prairie stretching 
 westward from Neepawa.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 BAGATAWA. 
 
 FOR a guide and companion Oscar found a young 
 fellow who had been in his father's employ for several 
 years, watching cattle on the prairie. Before daylight 
 they were on the way and with no roads or fences to 
 help or perplex them, without even a trail in the 
 direction they were going. They struck out at once 
 over the open country ; through the broad wheat-fields 
 of the estate and then across the pasture-lands beyond. 
 To the southwest lay the great prairie, stretching away 
 to the foot of the Rocky Mountains. To the north- 
 west were the wild and ragged pine-lands, with some of 
 the grandest scenery in the world. A thousand lakes 
 were buried there where the wild duck and the plover 
 made their nests. For more than a hundred years 
 hunters and trappers had been sending its treasures 
 of fur by great shiploads all over the world, and yet 
 the supply seemed inexhaustible. Some day the lum- 
 ber would be called for, and after that even, those 
 
 44
 
 BAGATAWA. 45 
 
 wild lands would still be some of the richest to be 
 found, for the vast treasures of minerals which Nature 
 hid in those fastnesses. 
 
 It would require nearly two days to reach the In- 
 dian camp, and they carried food and blankets, a cup, 
 coffee pot and frying-pan strapped behind their sad- 
 dles. They did not need them the first night, how- 
 ever, as the cowboy arranged to stop at a ranch that 
 was a little more than half-way to Neepawa. Here 
 they learned that the encampment, this year, was 
 nearer to them than they supposed, and nearer to 
 the hills. 
 
 As they were crossing the plain, early the next 
 morning, they passed a little band of Blackfeet braves 
 engaged in conversation with one of the mounted 
 police of the prairie. The cowboy grunted a good- 
 morning to the Indians and waved his hand to the 
 soldier as they passed, but seemed to pay them no 
 further attention. Oscar was much more interested, 
 for, though they were conversing very eagerly, no one 
 spoke a single word. They were using the universal 
 sign language of the Indians. Oscar was saying to 
 himself that it might do very well for an emergency, 
 to ask for food or water, but he didn't believe one 
 could impart much information, when the cowboy re- 
 marked, " Black-dog, the half-breed you're looking 
 for, comes from the Peterson mines, doesn't he ? " 
 
 Oscar assented, and the cowboy continued : " He's
 
 46 BAGATAWA. 
 
 got a squaw with him and a box prairie cart, and a 
 pony with a white face and one white foot, and a 
 bobbed mane ? " Oscar nodded in astonishment. 
 " He's got a load o' smuggled whiskey ? " 
 
 " I presume so," Oscar replied ; " but where did 
 you find out about him ? " 
 
 " That fellow was asking the Blackfeet if they'd seen 
 such a turnout on the way to the camp. Smuggling 
 cornjuice is bad business in these parts just now, and 
 I'd ruther be a treed coon than a smuggler with them 
 fellers after me. He was a big fool to tell those 
 Blackfeet, though. If Black-dog is at the camp 
 they'll tell him the first thing." 
 
 They reached the camp early in the afternoon. A 
 thousand Indians had already gathered, and others 
 were occasionally coming in. They were all in their 
 happiest mood, having traded their winter's catch of 
 fur for whatever seemed to them to be the best of good 
 things, and they were bent upon making the most of 
 them while the good things were new. 
 
 " Only keep your eyes open so as not to give them 
 a chance to steal anything from you, and you are all 
 right anywhere," said the cowboy, as they separated 
 to search for Black-dog. Little clusters of tents 
 covered the plain for a mile or more in each direction. 
 Tepees, lodges of all sorts anything that would 
 make a wigwam appeared, and every tribe that 
 trapped or hunted in the North was represented.
 
 BAGATAWA. 49 
 
 Most of the families possessed one or two of the 
 famous prairie carts, looking so much like the carts of 
 the old Normandy peasants as to prove that the first 
 French settlers had a hand in their construction. A 
 plain, oblong box, with the bottom side-boards run- 
 ning straight out in two long shafts, was placed upon 
 a heavy crossbar for an axle, connecting two great 
 wooden wheels. There were no springs and no seats. 
 The felloes were very broad, so that they should not 
 cut through the turf, and the spokes very long to go 
 safely through mud-holes. There was not a nail or 
 bolt or anything but wood about any one of them, so 
 that if a prairie cart broke down it was easy to re- 
 pair. Sometimes poles were run up, making them 
 look like hayricks. Sometimes long, slender poles 
 were bent and fastened to the sides, making a frame 
 upon which an awning could be drawn. 
 
 It was easy to tell when a cart was coming, for an 
 Indian was never known to grease the wheels. The 
 contents were always a jumble of dirty bedding and 
 blankets, guns, axes and tent poles, canvas covers, 
 skins and cooking utensils. If there was room left 
 and the load was not too heavy, there was usually a 
 basket of puppies to be seen. If there was still more 
 room some of the babies were stowed away there. 
 Occasionally a squaw would ride, and least frequently 
 the brave himself would appear balanced on the cart. 
 
 It seemed to be a thoroughly manly occupation for
 
 50 BAGATAWA. 
 
 the brave to stalk along before the horse, wrapped in 
 his long blanket and bright-red leggings covered with 
 beads, which he had just purchased with skins ; but he 
 would never carry any burden. If there was too much 
 for the cart or the pony the squaw must carry it, often 
 with a pappoose beside, strapped over her shoulders. 
 
 Very often the aboriginal Indian vehicle was still 
 in use. It was two long poles, fastened at one end 
 and hung upon the saddle. Just behind the pony the 
 two were again fastened, by a crossbar, about two feet 
 apart, and the other ends dragged upon the ground 
 far behind. The pony carried all he could upon his 
 back, and as much more upon the crossbar. Even the 
 dogs were sometimes harnessed in this way on a small 
 scale ; and Oscar laughed heartily as one big dog 
 walked solemnly behind a cart, carrying a basket full 
 of puppies tied to the crossbar behind her, and again 
 when a knock-kneed, jaded little pony ambled along 
 with two Indian babies all alone, tied to his back. 
 
 From the frilled poles of the canvas tepees, and 
 bark wigwams and leather lodges that were already 
 set up, little clouds of blue-white smoke curled slowly 
 upward, indicating that housekeeping had begun. In 
 other places the squaws were busy unloading and set- 
 ting up the tents. This was evidently not a manly 
 occupation, for the moment the little caravan reached 
 its tenting ground the braves disappeared, and did not 
 show themselves again till the smoke was rising.
 
 BAGATAWA. 51 
 
 With his eyes wide open Oscar rode about the 
 camp, attracting little attention, for, from miles about, 
 settlers came to these encampments to watch the 
 games ; but search as he would he saw nothing, heard 
 nothing of Black-dog. Here and there he paused to 
 watch a game that was going on, in which the contest- 
 ants usually ended by coming to blows, but no one 
 seemed particularly interested except those who were 
 fighting, and they were always allowed to finish 
 unmolested. 
 
 At one side of the camp the Indians were racing 
 their ponies, and his love for horses drew Oscar in- 
 stinctively to the spot. Sancho pricked up his ears 
 and began to tremble as they approached, as though 
 he would very much like to take a turn himself. 
 
 " You could beat anything they've got in this valley 
 all to pieces, old boy," Oscar said, patting his neck. 
 Then his entire attention was turned upon the field, 
 for two of the finest ponies he had ever seen came 
 dashing down the brown prairie. They were without 
 saddles or bridles, except the usual Indian lip-rope. 
 One was white, the other black, and neck and neck 
 they flew along the ground, while their riders, almost 
 naked, swung their long lashes in the air and urged 
 them on. 
 
 Nearer and nearer 'they came, each muscle swell- 
 ing, their nostrils dilated, as with every bound they 
 seemed to throw new life to every nerve, and faster
 
 52 BAGATAWA. 
 
 and faster and faster they swept along, still neck and 
 neck, the white against the black. 
 
 Oscar sat in his saddle as restive as Sancho, and 
 even Panza, with her ears pricked up and her eyes wide 
 open, stood panting and quivering with excitement. 
 
 The only beings who did not seem to be paying 
 attention to anything were a group of Indians seated 
 opposite. They seemed more than half-asleep. Oscar 
 wanted to shout to them to wake up and see the race, 
 when the two beauties dashed madly between them, 
 came to a sudden halt which threw them for an in- 
 stant upon their haunches, and the solemn Indians 
 opposite, declared that the white had won by half a 
 head. 
 
 Oscar had not recovered from his surprise at finding 
 that those fellows, appai-ently so sleepy, were really 
 the judges and very wide awake, when he started as 
 a hand was laid upon his shoulder and the cowboy's 
 voice sounded, saying, "You'd make a poor hand in 
 an Indian country if you forgot yourself that way," 
 while with a laugh he handed Oscar his blanket, 
 saddle, knapsack and rifle, which he had unstrapped 
 from behind him while he watched the race. 
 
 Oscar laughed, too, acknowledging himself well- 
 caught, when he noticed that the Indians opposite, 
 were also laughing. 
 
 " I declare," he exclaimed, in a low tone, " I was 
 just thinking that those fellows over there were sound
 
 BAGATAWA. 55 
 
 asleep, when I suddenly discovered that they were the 
 judges at the horse race, and I'm blest if they were 
 not taking- in the whole of this business, too, and no 
 one knows how much more." 
 
 " That's the dif ' between a pale face and a red," 
 replied his companion. " When an Indian's acting 
 he acts in every inch of him, and when he's not right 
 in it he's so dull you'd think the crack o' doom wouldn't 
 start him ; but either way and all the time his eyes 
 and his senses are just scooping in everything. An 
 Indian will always come upon you when you don't 
 expect him, and where you are not looking for him, 
 but you can't get within a mile of one of those red 
 putty-faces, unless he's drunk, without his knowing all 
 about it." 
 
 " Well, I thank you for a very good lesson," Oscar 
 replied, " and another time I shall try and keep cool 
 and keep my wits about me. Have you any news 
 from Black-dog?" 
 
 " He's here." 
 
 " Here I " Oscar gave such a sudden start that 
 even Sancho jumped. 
 
 " There you go again," said the cowboy, with an- 
 other laugh. " I'll bet there isn't an Indian in that 
 bunch but knows, now, that we're here for something 
 important. The next thing they'll find out what, if 
 they can, and then try to balk us, if they're able. 
 That's the nature of the beast."
 
 56 BAGATAWA. 
 
 Oscar's face showed his chagrin, but he simply said, 
 " Where is he ? " 
 
 " Down at the medicine man's lodge," replied his 
 companion. " I found his horse first, and then his 
 cart. They were a quarter of a mile apart and a long 
 way from the lodge. He's a sly skunk. He's lying 
 low for great business to-night and to-morrow morn- 
 ing, when they have their big game of Bagatawa." 
 
 " Could I see him ? " Oscar asked. 
 
 " I doubt if you could get at him, or if 'twould do 
 any good if you did," said the cowboy. " He'd be 
 deuced up on his dignity, here among his friends. 
 Best way is to watch and catch him when he's moving 
 off. He'll not go to-night. We can roll up some- 
 where here and take turns at sleeping." 
 
 Oscar looked at Panza and was about to say some- 
 thing, when the cowboy continued : " She'd be all 
 right if we were a mile away from everything, but 
 right here in the midst of such a bunch any Indian 
 could get near enough to fix her with an arrow before 
 she opened her eyes. My advice is, that if you want 
 to keep your horse you had better keep awake." 
 
 Oscar was rapidly learning much that proved in- 
 valuable to him before long. He saw that the cowboy 
 was right, and though it looked like cowardice at first, 
 he soon made up his mind that it was not. 
 
 They rode along the bank of the river till they 
 found a good place on a little knoll. There they
 
 BAGATAWA. 57 
 
 unsaddled their horses and let them feed while Panza 
 watched them, and they built a fire and cooked their 
 supper. 
 
 As they brought their horses in the cowboy said : 
 " I reckon you'd better watch for the first half, 'cause 
 it's new to you, and if you tried to sleep you'd only 
 lie awake and make a whole night of it by the means. 
 You watch till twelve, and you'll be tired enough to 
 sleep anywhere." 
 
 He took the halter in his hand and very easily made 
 his horse lie down. Then he lay down close beside 
 him, all rolled up in his blanket. 
 
 " He likes it, and it keeps a fellow warm, cold nights," 
 he added, seeing Oscar watching him. " Besides, it's 
 harder to steal him this way, and he wakes a fellow up 
 mighty quick, with his sniffing, when anything's wrong, 
 if you're close enough to feel it." 
 
 Sancho had been watching very closely, too, and it 
 occurred to Oscar that he would like to teach him the 
 trick, so he took the halter just as he had seen the 
 cowboy when, to his siirprise, Sancho lay right down 
 almost as quickly as Panza could. 
 
 Not to disappoint him, Oscar threw his blanket 
 around him, and sat 'down with his back against 
 Sancho's, and Panza curled up at his feet. He could 
 not make up his mind whether it was a trick which 
 Sancho had been taught before he was sent to England 
 or had caught just by watching the cowboy's horse.
 
 58 BAGATAWA. 
 
 He was quite sure that Sancho was clever enough for 
 either. Very soon, however, he gave up thinking to 
 watch the Indians in the valley. 
 
 It was a beautiful moonlight night. A fire of pitch- 
 pine burned upon the river bank not far away. About 
 it the Indians were dancing, to the beating of drums 
 and the rattle of dried gourds filled with pebbles, pre- 
 paring themselves for the great game the next day. 
 
 After dancing for nearly an hour they stopped short, 
 made a rush for the river and plunged into the ice-cold 
 water. 
 
 Oscar had often heard of Bagatawa, but he had 
 never seen the game played or witnessed the prepara- 
 tory ceremonies which always take place through the 
 night before the contest. Even the squaws were tak- 
 ing part, and the whole camp seemed awake and active. 
 He had no idea what time it Was when the cowboy 
 opened his eyes, lifted his head just high enough to 
 look quickly about in every Direction, then sat up, 
 turned his watch to the moonlight, and remarked, 
 " Twelve o'clock to the dot. Now it's your turn." 
 
 "Have you been awake long?" Oscar asked. 
 
 " Not a second," said the cowboy, rising and stretch- 
 ing. " A fellow gets a sort of clockwork inside of him, 
 lying round loose on the prairie for a living. Now you 
 turn in quick, so's not to lose time." 
 
 Oscar was sure that he waked up several times, and 
 thought he had not slept at all ; but when he finally
 
 BAGATAWA. 59 
 
 got his eyes wide open he was surprised to find that 
 the sun was almost up, and that the cowboy had the 
 fire kindled and breakfast cooking. 
 
 " I spoke to you a little while ago," he said, " but 
 you were so sound asleep I thought it would pay you 
 to take another turn. Pretty stiff in the joints, are 
 you? Well, it won't last. Just run for all you're 
 worth down to the river and back, and see how quick 
 you'll forget it." 
 
 Oscar tried the experiment. At first it seemed as 
 though he could not put one foot before the other but, 
 though it was only a very short distance, by the time 
 he was back again he felt a warm glow from head to 
 foot, and was ready to enjoy any kind of a breakfast 
 that could be eaten. 
 
 Indians from all sides were gathering about the place 
 that had been selected for the game. They were all 
 dressed in their holiday best, and bright colors flashed 
 and merry shouts resounded everywhere. As the boys 
 rode down among them Oscar thought he had never 
 seen Indians look so clean in all his life. 
 
 Those who were to take part in the game were 
 gathered at opposite ends of the field, entirely naked, 
 except for the little breech-cloth, and a long wolf tail 
 or fox tail hanging down behind. The height of fash- 
 ion demanded that it should be a white horse-tail, but 
 very few could support that luxury. Many were covered 
 with bright war-paint and bands of eagle feathers about
 
 60 BAGATAWA. 
 
 their heads, tossing in the air as they danced and laughed 
 and shouted threats and taunts to the other side. 
 
 Forty or fifty men on each side were gathered about 
 their respective goals, which were made by planting two 
 long poles in the ground and fastening a crossbar at 
 the top. Each player held two sticks, about three feet 
 long, bent into a loop at the end and held there by a 
 netting of leather cord. 
 
 A tall old Indian patriarch, all covered over with 
 beads and feathers, and wrapped in a gorgeous new 
 blanket, walked solemnly into the center of the field 
 and gave a signal, at which all the players laid down 
 their sticks and came together. Then the chief counted 
 the sides and each man chose his antagonist. The chief 
 made a short speech, the players went back and took 
 up their sticks, a medicine man came forward with 
 a large ball, the chief gave a signal, and the medicine 
 man threw the ball into the air with all his might. 
 
 Up to that time everything had been as still as 
 death. The players stood like statues. But the mo- 
 ment the ball went up, a shout rose from the crowd of 
 spectators and every muscle of every player on the 
 field seemed suddenly to start into action. From that 
 instant the game went on without a moment's rest. 
 The players would rush toward the flying ball regard- 
 less of any one about them. They would catch it if 
 they could between their sticks or, if not, then strike 
 it and send it as far as possible toward the enemy's
 
 BAG ATA WA. 61 
 
 goal. If they could not do, that they tried to prerent 
 some opponent who was nearer from doing the same, 
 and if too far away for that they did their best to pre- 
 vent the enemy from getting any nearer than they 
 were. 
 
 They were not allowed to touch the ball or other 
 players with their hands, but must always use the 
 sticks. Sometimes they rushed together with such force 
 as to leap upon one another's shoulders, and carry on 
 the struggle up there for a moment. They would dart 
 between an adversary's legs, leaving him sprawling on 
 the ground the moment he thought he had successfully 
 caught the ball. They piled themselves up three or 
 four deep over it when the ball fell and was lost for a 
 noment in the crowd, but none of them wore shoes or 
 even moccasins, so that there were none of the bruises 
 of football as the result. 
 
 For some minutes the boys had been watching a tall, 
 handsome fellow who had hung about the rear at the 
 start, but had suddenly made a dive into the thick of 
 the game. " He's got it ! He's got it ! " Oscar ex- 
 claimed as he made a bound and nipped the ball be- 
 tween the nettings on his sticks, several feet in the air. 
 
 " And he'll keep it, too, for one while," replied the 
 cowboy. 
 
 It seemed impossible, but he sprang right over the 
 heads of those about him and darted away like a deer, 
 holding his hands high above his head. In an instant
 
 62 
 
 BAGATAWA. 
 
 the whole band of players was after him, to help or 
 hinder, to head him off, trip him up, knock the ball 
 from between his sticks anything to prevent his get- 
 ting it to the goal. 
 
 Now he leaped into the air to escape a foot or a stick 
 thrnst out to trip him, then he sprang to one side to 
 dodge a fellow who made a quick dive to run into him. 
 
 BAGATAWA. 
 
 He left him sprawling on the ground instead, for half 
 a dozen to trip over, before they could turn, and a 
 comically wriggling pile they made, each trying to re- 
 gain his feet regardless of the others. 
 
 The runner was far away from them in a twinkling, 
 making for the goal about as a yacht makes for a land- 
 ing against a head wind. But dodging, leaping, run- 
 ning, turning, he was constantly coming nearer.
 
 'BAGATAWA. 63 
 
 Suddenly the ball went out of sight, and with a groan 
 Oscar exclaimed, " He's lost it ! " But it was up again 
 before he had finished. The Indian had not dropped 
 it. He had simply ducked to avoid a sudden blow 
 aimed by a player who sprang upon him from one side, 
 and the stick whirled harmlessly over his head. The 
 next instant he was darting on again with the ball 
 high in the air. 
 
 It was growing desperate. Some of the players left 
 the chase to gather nearer the goal by a short out and 
 intercept him. A dozen at least were close behind, and 
 a dozen more running from the side when he sprang 
 into a cluster of trees. The whole were after him in 
 an instant, but they had no sooner entered the tangled 
 grove than he turned upon them, shot back again 
 directly through their midst, and was out of the grove, 
 between the goal and his pursuers, with three or four 
 yards of distance gained before they appeared. A 
 tremendous shout rose from those who were watching 
 the game as he started off in a direct line for the goal. 
 
 Pie seemed to be made of eyes, watching his oppo- 
 nents in front and behind and on all sides of him, 
 watching his path over the rough ground, watching 
 the ball that it should not slip from between the 
 sticks, watching the goal for the best chance of reach- 
 ing it, running at the top of his speed, with his hands 
 all the time high above his head. 
 
 The players about the goal ran out to meet him.
 
 64 BAGATAWA. 
 
 Three of them came up directly in front, whirling 
 their sticks about their heads. Two ran toward him 
 from the side. He dodged to escape them, when one 
 from behind quickly thrust a stick between his legs 
 and he plunged forward at full length upon the 
 ground. There was a groan from the spectators, and 
 in an instant the whole party of players, of whichever 
 side, came piling in on top of him. 
 
 Then everything was still, and all stood watching 
 the struggling mass, when suddenly there was an erup- 
 tion in its midst like a miniature volcano. Up, out of 
 the center, the same fellow appeared, the players rolled 
 this way and that, he sprang upon the top of the pile 
 with the ball still firmly nipped between his sticks, and 
 with one bound cleared the whole, leaving the struggling 
 mass behind him, and started like the wind for the un- 
 protected goal. Bound after bound was breathlessly 
 watched and when, a moment later, the ball flew under 
 the arch and the point was gained, the whole crowd 
 sent up one Indian yell that might almost have split 
 the sky. 
 
 " I tell you, but that's a game ! " Oscar said, with a 
 quivering breath, at the end. "And yet it's for all 
 the world like Lacrosse." 
 
 " It's the origin of Lacrosse," replied his companion. 
 
 " Why, they told me in England that Lacrosse was 
 a Scotch game," said Oscar, but the cowboy only 
 laughed and shook his head.
 
 BAGATAWA. 67 
 
 " They'd rather do anything than credit a single 
 good idea to an Indian," he replied. " But the fact 
 remains, and you'll find that it is a fact." 
 
 " It's awfully interesting," Oscar repeated. 
 
 " I reckon Black-dog thought you'd find it so," said 
 the cowboy, " for he and his wife lit out half an hour 
 ago. I saw um starting up the mountain trail." 
 
 " Why didn't you tell me ? " Oscar exclaimed. 
 
 "'Twould 'a' spoiled the game for you before you're 
 used to taking in three or four things at once. We 
 can catch him easy." 
 
 " Well, I wish I had your eyes," Oscar muttered. 
 
 " I couldn't spare them very well ; but you'll have 
 better ones of your own as soon as you've had to do 
 some watching out with life and death at stake," he 
 replied, as they started after Black-dog. 
 
 A half-hour later they heard a sharp altercation not 
 far ahead, in which an Indian's voice was prominent. 
 
 " That's him, sure's fate ! " whispered the cowboy. 
 " The soldiers have got him. You want to put in your 
 whack lively, for it's the last you'll see of him for some 
 time to come." 
 
 They hurried on and soon came upon the scene. A 
 soldier of the mounted police held the white-faced 
 horse, and one sat on either side with a pistol pointed 
 at Black-dog's head, while the poor half-breed, in his 
 big fur cap, holding up his hand to surrender, was the 
 very picture of despair.
 
 68 BAGATAWA. 
 
 After a little explanation Oscar obtained permission 
 to speak with the prisoner for a moment, and crawled 
 up to the seat beside him. 
 
 Black-dog's story was disconnected enough, but 
 Oscar gathered from it that a stranger from the States 
 had stopped at his cabin for a week. He said he was 
 a miner and spent some time at the mines. He was 
 inside the cabin when the master stopped at the door 
 and told Black-dog that he was going up the lake to 
 place a sawmill, and that he must either go to lum- 
 bering or leave the place. When the master left the 
 stranger said he was going hunting, and sent Black- 
 dog to Wawanka to have slug-holds put on his boots. 
 He had a fine English hollow-ball rifle. He took Black- 
 dog's horse, promising to bring it back the next day ; 
 but Black-dog was in haste. He did not want the 
 master to force him to go into the woods, and he did 
 want to secure some whiskey for the encampment, so he 
 started on foot, telling his squaw to come on the next 
 day with the cart. The horse did not come back, so she 
 borrowed the first one she could find and followed him. 
 
 The story had some truth in it, at any rate, and, 
 satisfied that, true or false, it was all he could get out 
 of the half-breed, Oscar left him and with his compan- 
 ion started for home again. The cowboy left him at 
 the Peterson Ranch, a few miles from the village, and, 
 after dark, with Panza beside him, Oscar left Sancho 
 at the stable and entered the house on the butte.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 NOT FOR GOLD. 
 
 THE house was dark and still. The two servants 
 had doubtless retired, and Oscar entered softly, that 
 he might not disturb them. He heard a fire crackling 
 and burning in the great, oak-finished room which, 
 through the winter, was used as a reception-room and 
 office, as well as dining-room, on account of its enor- 
 mous fireplace. It had been raining hard through the 
 evening, and saying to himself that the servants must 
 have half-expected him that night and lit the fire for 
 him, he hurried to his room, threw off his wet clothes, 
 and in a woollen shirt, trousers and slippers came down 
 to the great dining-room. 
 
 The table was spread with an elaborate meal, and set 
 for three people. Oscar was perplexed, but hungry, 
 and without waiting to inquire into it he sat down and 
 ate a hearty supper. Then drawing his chair to the 
 fire he began to think. 
 
 The doctor had extracted the fatal bullet, and he 
 69
 
 70 NOT FOR GOLD. 
 
 had found the one buried in the wolf skins. They 
 were the same, and came from a hollow-ball English 
 rifle. The heel and the boots he obtained from Wa- 
 wanka matched. Black-dog and Wawanka had de- 
 scribed the stranger in almost the same terms. The 
 man was conversant with mines and mining, and evi- 
 dently went up the lake for the express purpose of 
 firms: that shot. Oscar remembered what his father 
 
 O 
 
 said about the new mine in the States, and something 
 forced the conviction upon him that the agent of whom 
 he spoke was the man" for him to find. 
 
 He turned to Panza, lying behind his chair, and 
 said : " That is our duty, Panza. We'll stick to it till 
 it is done. We'll need all the money that the estate 
 can earn to help us, but we will do it." 
 
 Suddenly voices sounded outside the house. They 
 were rough, strange voices, and Panza began to growl. 
 
 " Be quiet," Oscar said, sitting erect and listening. 
 
 They came nearer. Heavy footsteps sounded in the 
 hall. The door burst open and with a boisterous laugh 
 three men entered. One was an Indian and two were 
 white men. They were all heavily armed, and all 
 strangers. Panza was ready to spring upon them, but 
 Oscar held her back and she lay down again behind 
 his chair. 
 
 " Halloo, youngster ! " exclaimed the one who seemed 
 to be the leader, as he noticed the boy sitting in the 
 great fireplace. "Be you young Peterson ? Surely
 
 NOT FOR GOLD. 73 
 
 thought you'd skipped. Couldn't find ye nowhar, an' 
 been kinder makin' myself ter hum, meanwhiles, bein' 
 I'm likely ter be ter hum here, fur the most part, frum 
 now on ; an' sence I found ye I mought's well sarve 
 this slip o' paper on ye right now, afore we furgit it, 
 ter show yer my 'thority." 
 
 Oscar had not been away from the refinement of 
 civilization long enough to understand the roughness 
 of frontier life, and his idea of dignity was so outraged 
 that, irrespective of the man's mission or business, he 
 was thoroughly indignant, and without touching the 
 paper he turned deliberately away, resting his elbows 
 on his knees, and sat looking into the fire. 
 
 "Stuffy, eh?" observed the man. "Waal, I 
 reckoned yer mought be, but it can't be helped. An' 
 sence ye won't look at the paper I'll take the liberty 
 o' givin' ye the contents by word o' mouth. Seems 
 yer dad gin a deed o' this property an' a bill o' sale o' 
 what's on it, fur vallerble consideration, ter the man I 
 represents. An' he's had 'em didy administered 'cordin' 
 ter law, an' I 'pinted ter look arter the investment, 
 git what I kin outer it sell off as I have opportunity, 
 an' so forth. Not findin' yer I've been round fur a 
 couple o' days takin' possession an' straightenin' things 
 out. Now I don't want no trouble, an' I ain't goin' 
 ter hurt nobody ef I kin help it." He was becoming 
 aggressive as Oscar refused to pay him the slightest 
 attention. "I tell yer I don't want no trouble, an'
 
 74 NOT FOR GOLD. 
 
 thar won't be none unless'n you make it. But I'm 
 here under bonds, ter do my duty, an' you've got ter 
 git. Do ye hear me?" he exclaimed, bringing a 
 chair about in front of the fire opposite Oscar, resting 
 his foot upon it while his arms swung over the back ; 
 and the two who were with him edged forward, ready 
 to seize the boy when he gave the word. " Do ye 
 hear me ? I ain't a-goin' ter draw on a kid, leastwise 
 on one as hasn't his shootin'-irons about him ; but you 
 look a-here, youngster." He pushed back the sleeve 
 of his shirt, exhibiting a brawny, muscular arm. " I 
 don't need nuthin ter handle you with. Ef you don't 
 git, in good peaceable shape, you know what that 
 means," and he swung his arm about suggestively. 
 
 Like a flash Oscar was upon his feet. His chair fell 
 with a crash behind him. His fists were clinched, his 
 head erect, and Panza by his side his very counterpart. 
 
 "Were you shaking your fist at me? " he muttered, 
 looking savagely across the hearth ; for the chair upon 
 which the fellow had been leaning stood empty. The 
 two behind him had backed up against the wall, and 
 the leader was as close to them as he could crowd. 
 
 " No, sir ! No, sir ; I wus not," he said decidedly. 
 " I wus only tryin' ter explain how matters stood, an' 
 if I did it wrong I 'pologize. Thar ! Ef that's fair 
 an' you'll excuse us I reckon we'll go now. Thar 
 ain't no haste 'bout yer vacatin'. Take yer time. 
 JTur's I'm consarned,- 1 don't care if yer never go."
 
 NOT FOR GOLD. 75 
 
 Oscar folded his arms and calmly asked, " Is what 
 you have told me about this property true?" 
 
 " Here's my paper of authority, sir, signed by the 
 holder of the deed, indorsed by the court at Winni- 
 peg," the man replied, humbly. 
 
 " Do you claim everything ? " Oscar asked. 
 
 " 'Tween the deed an' bill o' sale, sir, it's pretty 
 much all covered, I reckon, sir." 
 
 " You have been stopping here, I think ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir ; beggin' yer pardon, sir. Thar wus no in- 
 sult intended, an' we kin jes' as well go summars else." 
 
 Oscar noticed the two behind him cast a longing 
 glance at the table, and replied : " You may as well 
 eat your supper here ; it seems to be ready ; and you 
 may as well sleep where you have found beds before. 
 You would be perfectly welcome, if I owned the prop- 
 erty, so long as you were civil. I did not know that my 
 father had deeded this property to any one, and I think 
 there is some mistake ; but I have no time now to con- 
 sider the matter. I own a horse, in the stable, which 
 I brought with me from England, a month ago, and I 
 own this dog." For an instant his eyes fell and rested 
 lovingly on Panza. The man cringed and muttered, 
 "Yes, sir." Oscar continued : "Supposing that you 
 are right, within an hour we three will leave here for 
 perhaps forever. If I should accomplish my busi- 
 ness and return it may be that we shall discover some 
 mistake. Come, Panza, we must be going."
 
 76 NOT FOR GOLD. 
 
 " I say, mister," exclaimed the fellow in a very dif- 
 ferent tone, " thar ain't no need o' your goin'. I'm 
 sorry I put it as I did. Is that thar hoss I see in the 
 stable, the light-colored one, the hoss you speak of?" 
 
 Oscar was moving toward the door as he replied. 
 " Well, sir," continued the man, " it's the puttiest 
 piece of hoss-flesh I've ever sot eyes on, an' I'll tell 
 yer what I'll do ; I'll gin yer a clean deed o' this house 
 an' all the land yer want round it in swap fur that 
 hoss, an' I'll make it good with the owner." 
 
 "Not if you'd give me the whole farm," Oscar said, 
 decidedly, with his hand upon the door. 
 
 " Ef yer'd druther have gold I'll gin yer five hun- 
 dred clean, outer my own pocket," the fellow pleaded, 
 coming a step forward. 
 
 " No ; not for gold," said Oscar. " If you'd give 
 me his weight in diamonds I would not part with that 
 horse for an hour.." 
 
 As Oscar opened the door the man added, " I'd 
 treat him like a baby, sir. Thar shouldn't a har o' 
 his hide be teched by nobody ; " but he closed the door 
 behind him and went out. As he climbed the stairs 
 with Panza he heard the man's voice exclaiming, " By 
 the great horn spoon ! but that youngster beats a 
 regiment ! " 
 
 Going to his room Oscar put on his strongest hunt- 
 ing boots and a rough Manitoba suit, his cartridge 
 belt and pistol. He took his rifle and blankets, and
 
 NOT FOR GOLD. 77 
 
 what was necessary that he could strap upon his saddle, 
 and went to the stable with the intention of going back 
 to the ranch and his friend the cowboy, till he could 
 determine what to do. As he threw the saddle over 
 Sancho he muttered, " Well, Panza, we have not got 
 the property to help us, after all, but we three are left, 
 and we will do it by ourselves." 
 
 The rain had ceased and the moon was bright as he 
 rode slowly down the village street where everything 
 was deserted and still. Only in the log cabin a faint 
 light was still burning. There must be some trouble 
 there. Possibly his old nurse was worse. The thought 
 that in his own trouble he was about to leave, perhaps 
 forever, without saying farewell to the Indians in the 
 log cabin, disturbed him, and without a second thought 
 he dismounted and knocked on the oak door. 
 
 It was opened by Wenononee, with Wetamoc close 
 behind her, and as a flood of moonlight fell over them 
 Oscar started back. For a moment he stood staring 
 at the little Indian girl. Once before he had seen that 
 face and though, in the sorrow and changes of the past 
 few weeks, it had not occurred to him more than once or 
 twice even to wonder whose face it was, that once was 
 a moment and a face that he could never forget, and 
 now the flood of moonlight brought it all back to him 
 as vividly as upon the stormy afternoon when he looked 
 up out of the water and saw the face of the Indian 
 girl bending over the side of the yacht to save him.
 
 78 
 
 NOT FOR GOLD. 
 
 Wenononee shrank back behind Wetamoc, but 
 Oscar sprang forward and caught her hand. " Is this 
 Wenononee? Is this Mama's little pappoose ? " he 
 exclaimed. 
 
 Weno bowed her head. 
 
 " It was you who saved my life out on the lake, and 
 you who brought in the yacht, with my father," he 
 
 "WENONONEE 1" 
 
 continued. " O, Wenononee ! how much, how much 
 I owe to you and to your mother for all that you and 
 your people have done for me and my father ! Some 
 day some day or other I hope I may be able to show
 
 NOT FOR GOLD. 79 
 
 you how I thank you. To-night I have nothing. J 
 have no home, nor anything in all the world but my 
 horse and dog. I think that some one is trying to 
 cheat me, but I cannot tell yet. I only know that 
 they have taken everything away from me, and I came 
 to say good-by." 
 
 " Young master got no home ! Young master go ? " 
 cried Weno, catching his hand in both of hers. " Oh ! 
 if Indian squaw had home young master should have 
 all of it. But pale face come to Indian wigwam, too, 
 and say Indian squaw no pay rent Indian squaw must 
 go." 
 
 " He has turned you out, too ? " Oscar stepped back 
 aghast, and even in the moonlight his face was dark 
 with rage. " Had he a right to do a thing so brutal ? 
 Wenononee, your mother is too ill to go. Your grand- 
 mother is too old. They must not ! They shall not 
 go. Wait a minute. I have one chance left. Tell 
 them quickly that they need not go. The manwho 
 said so shall come, in the morning, and tell you to stay 
 forever. There, there! Light the fire again. Put 
 the things back where they belong. The wigwam is 
 yours, and always shall be." 
 
 Weno was bending over to kiss his hand, but he 
 drew it away, and leaping upon his horse without 
 touching the stirrup, he rode swiftly back the way he 
 came. 
 
 Oscar was too thoroughly occupied with his own
 
 80 NOT FOR GOLD. 
 
 thoughts to look behind him, and even if he had he 
 might not have seen the fleeting shadow that as silently 
 as a ghost, but swift as Sancho, followed in his path as 
 he climbed the butte again. 
 
 When he reached the house Weno was there. He 
 did not see her, but she was watching him. She saw 
 him dismount. She saw him put his arm over Sancho's 
 neck and lay his cheek against his nose. She saw him 
 go up and open the door, letting the bright light stream 
 down the steps, and then turn back again to Sancho. 
 She saw him stand for a moment with one clinched 
 fist resting on the stone balustrade and one on Sancho 
 as he looked into the open door. Then she saw him 
 resolutely enter the house and she knew what it meant, 
 though she was only an Indian girl. 
 
 Half an hour later Weno was still at hand. She 
 was crouching in the shrubbery as he passed. Her 
 face was very pale for an Indian, even in the moon- 
 light, and her cheeks were wet with tears as she watched 
 the young master. His head was bowed. His strong 
 heart was almost broken. Even Panza felt the weight 
 of the burden that bore upon him. Her head hung 
 down and her step was heavy and slow. 
 
 Oscar had strapped the saddle knapsack and blanket 
 upon his own back, and once more started upon his 
 mission. 
 
 As he passed the spot where Weno was crouch- 
 ing she heard him say, " Well, Panza, you and I are
 
 NOT FOR GOLD. 
 
 81 
 
 left and we must forget everything but our duty and 
 do it if we can." 
 
 He struck out over the plain, never dreaming that 
 the shadowy form of a little Indian girl was hovering 
 in the distance, always too far away to be detected, 
 always near enough never to lose sight of him. 
 
 UPON HIS MISSION.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 AT THE RANCH-HOUSE. 
 
 OSCAR entered the ranch-house without ceremony, 
 and the dusky shadow which had been following him 
 disappeared. 
 
 The house was a large and comfortable log cabin, 
 fitted up for the cowboys and other ranch hands dur- 
 ing the winter. It was surrounded by commodious 
 out-buildings and corrals. A forest sheltered it upon 
 the north and extended to the cliffs and foot-hills, a 
 mile or more away. 
 
 The buildings stood upon the extreme eastern limit 
 of the grazing lands, nearest the settlement, while the 
 prairie where the cattle pastured stretched away to the 
 west, only limited by the Rocky Mountains. The north- 
 ern arm of the Assiniboin formed the southern bound- 
 ary, and many little tributaries coming from the 
 mountains watered the broad valley. 
 
 It was the ideal cattle range of Manitoba,- and better 
 than many even farther south than South Dakota. 
 
 82
 
 AT THE RANCH-HOUSE. 83 
 
 From early spring till fall the cattle wandered steadily 
 westward, with little opportunity to stray away or die 
 of thirst, as is so often the case farther south. In the 
 fall there was a grand round up, all along the line, 
 and they were driven back to winter quarters near the 
 ranch-house, where the grass had been growing all 
 summer for their winter supply, and where they could 
 find shelter from the snow in the forest, and from the 
 fierce winds under the high cliffs. 
 
 The corrals were made of posts planted firmly and 
 close together, entered by passages which gradually 
 grew narrower till only one animal could pass at a 
 time. These were used for branding, for every ranch 
 from Manitoba to Mexico has its own brand to mark 
 its property, and a calf following a cow is always 
 branded with the mark of the cow. Then follows the 
 sorting for market and the departure of the drove 
 selected for the nearest railway station, and the merri- 
 est time on the ranch is over. Everything settles down, 
 then, to make the best of the long, cold winter. A 
 part of the cowboys turn lumbermen and trappers, for 
 very few are needed upon the ranch. The cattle will 
 not stray far, and wolves and Indians are the only in- 
 vaders that must be kept at a distance. 
 
 All along the prairie, stretching westward, there 
 were little huts, or dugouts, or bark lodges, at intervals 
 of a mile or two, occupied, one after another, by the 
 cowboys as the cattle moved westward, through the
 
 84 AT THE RANCH-HOUSE. 
 
 summer. They had already been away for nearly a 
 month, and no one remained at the ranch-house but 
 the keeper and an assistant. 
 
 Visitors are rare at ranch-houses anywhere, but 
 especially so upon the comparatively few ranges of 
 Manitoba, even in mid-summer. 
 
 At stated times supplies are brought by " Prairie 
 schooners " great covered wagons, drawn by long 
 lines of mules or oxen, driven by bronzed and weather- 
 beaten "bull-whackers," or "mule-skinners." Now 
 and then parties of hunters stopped for the night on 
 their way to the forests, and at long intervals a little 
 band of emigrants would pass, on its way to search for 
 some new home away toward the setting sun. 
 
 Mountain Charlie, the cowboy who accompanied 
 Oscar to the Indian camp, had simply stopped at the 
 ranch-house for the night, intending to join the rest 
 upon the range the following day. He was an im- 
 portant figure among them, and had won his name by 
 several exploits among the Indians in the mountains. 
 His position was that of a sort of coast guard ; not so 
 much with the cattle, through the summer, as a free 
 ranger among the foot-hills, keeping watch of Indians 
 in the neighborhood of the cattle, and driving back 
 the cows if any were found wandering too near to the 
 mountains. 
 
 Very few cowboys ever hear their last names spoken 
 by their associates. If the first name is not enough
 
 AT THE RANCH-HOUSE. 85 
 
 to identify them, some characteristic is added, or the 
 brand of the ranch with which they are connected, or 
 some deed which has made them famous. The brand 
 of the Peterson ranch was a half circle and a dash 
 " ( ; " and if there had been no better name for him 
 Oscar's friend would have been known as " Half -circle- 
 dash Charlie." It was a much more honorable dis- 
 tinction which he had won, however, and he was justly 
 proud of the name of " Mountain Charlie." 
 
 He was awake before Oscar had lifted the latch, and 
 as the moonlight streamed through the open door Oscar 
 saw him leaning on his elbow, on the edge of his bunk, 
 with his six-shooter in his hand. 
 
 " It's nobody very fierce, Charlie," he said t softly, 
 that he might not disturb any others who were sleep- 
 ing. " You can put up your shooting-irons and go to 
 sleep again. Panza and I have started out on another 
 trip. I'm on foot this time, and we've run in to spend 
 the night with you. Tell me where I'll find an empty 
 bunk, and I'll go into particulars in the morning." 
 
 The cowboy had the good sense to accept the situa- 
 tion without making an ado. In simple frontier 
 fashion he asked, " Had your grub ? " and receiving 
 an affirmative reply added : " Bunks are all empty on 
 that side. Pick the best." Then he laid down his 
 six-shooter, and threw himself back upon his pillow 
 with a sigh, as though he were already half-asleep 
 again.
 
 86 AT THE RANCH-HOUSE. 
 
 Oscar did not dream of the keen eyes that were fixed 
 upon him from the shadows of Charlie's bunk as he 
 laid down his rifle, unstrapped his pack and cartridge 
 belt, took off his boots and trousers and lay down in 
 the bunk. 
 
 With a contented grunt Panza stretched herself 
 upon the floor beside the bunk and was asleep in a 
 moment. Oscar watched her with envious eyes, for it 
 seemed to him that after all he had passed through the 
 last straw would surely break the camel's back, and 
 that he could not bear the burden that was being piled 
 upon him. He did not believe that he could possibly 
 fall asleep, but he was mistaken. There was many a 
 straw yet to be laid upon his back without breaking it. 
 No one ever knows how much he can bear till he is 
 tested, and there is a philosophy that if one is true to 
 himself and his convictions there is no burden so heavy 
 that he really cannot bear it. 
 
 Oscar Peterson had a brave heart, a healthy body 
 that was thoroughly tired, and a clear conscience, and 
 even while he was envying Panza he fell asleep himself, 
 in spite of the changes which had taken place : taking 
 the happy student, looking forward to a year's vacation 
 with his father upon one of the richest and best fron- 
 tier estates of America, and making a lonely orphan, 
 lying on a blanket, in a borrowed bunk, without a 
 possession in the world except his pack, his rifle and 
 his dog.
 
 AT THE RANCH-HOUSE. 87 
 
 Charlie lay awake much longer, looking steadily 
 across the cabin toward Oscar's bunk. 
 
 " Something's going all-fired wrong with him," he 
 muttered. " He's too good a fellow to be bucked be- 
 fore he gets his eye teeth cut. Whatever the muss is 
 I don't believe he's having fair play. He's got the 
 grit to fight and win, whatever 's against him, and I 
 wish I could lend a hand to give him a fair show. He 
 wouldn't take help from anybody if he knew it, but I 
 wonder if I can't work it some way so's he'll have to 
 let me." 
 
 While he was wondering he, too, fell asleep again. 
 
 Still another heart was beating for Oscar that 
 night. 
 
 As soon as the door closed behind him, and it was 
 evident that he proposed to remain there till morning, 
 at least, the shadowy form behind turned back again, 
 the bright eyes looked toward the butte, and the silent 
 feet flew almost as fast as a horse could run. There 
 was no rest or sleep for Wenononee that night. All 
 alone she had conceived an idea and plotted and 
 planned its execution. She knew just what was be- 
 fore her, but with true Indian loyalty she determined 
 to accomplish it, and she did. 
 
 Faster and faster her feet flew, for the task was long 
 and difficult, and daylight was none too far away. Up 
 the butte she went, like the shadow of a cloud swiftly 
 and silently gliding over the meadow. The moon
 
 $8 AT THE RANCH-HOUSE. 
 
 shone full upon the ragged face of the butte that 
 looked down over the village. Every rock and ledge 
 and cranny was visible. It was much shorter than 
 the road which wound down the gentle slope to the 
 south, and shorter than the foot path cut into the face 
 of the ledge, and without a moment's hesitation Weno 
 leaped from the upper rocks, and with bound after 
 bound darted down the steep declivity. By that means 
 it was only a moment later when she entered the little 
 log cabin. 
 
 All was dark there now, but Weno needed no light. 
 Swiftly and silently she crossed the room, climbed to 
 her own little chamber under the roof, and threw off 
 the loose dress which she wore. Out of a characteris- 
 tic pile of everything in one corner she drew an Eng- 
 lish hunting jacket and put it on, buttoning it down 
 to her leather trousers. It was the jacket which 
 Oscar had thrown over his father, in the yacht, and 
 left there. Weno found it the next morning. She 
 was too much of an Indian to stop to think whether it 
 was stealing or not for her to keep it ; but no Indian 
 ever took anything that did not belong to him with 
 less thought of personal profit. She had never put it 
 on before. She had never thought of using it in any 
 way ; but she valued the treasure more than all that 
 she possessed even the bear skin and the antlers. 
 
 As she drew on the jacket she whispered : " Heap 
 good horse. He know."
 
 AT THE RANCH-HOUSE. 89 
 
 Then she unbraided her hair, which she had plaited 
 for the night when Oscar came to the cabin early in 
 the evening, and tied it in a knot at the top of her 
 head. She took off her leggings and moccasins and 
 rolled them into a bundle with her dress and a bright 
 Indian blanket, and with it hurried out of the cabin 
 again as complete an Indian boy as ever ran barefoot 
 over the mountain trails. She was exhausted and 
 panting, and her heart was throbbing fiercely as she 
 entered the cabin, but she was as fresh as ever when 
 she left again and started on a run up the butte. 
 
 She did not go near the house, but kept well under 
 the hill till she was opposite the stable. Then she 
 threw her bundle into a clump of shrubbery and at- 
 tempted to enter, but the door was locked. She walked 
 slowly about the building till she found a place where 
 she could climb to a ventilating window in the peak, 
 and a moment later was pulling herself through the 
 narrow opening. Then all was still till a door swung 
 open that had been bolted on the inside, and Weno 
 stood in the moonlight, covered with dust and hay. 
 
 For a moment her courage seemed almost to fail her. 
 She looked quickly and nervously in every direction. 
 She took a step forward, drawing the door after her as 
 though she were coming out. With one foot over the 
 threshold she hesitated, shook herself, stood very 
 straight and, with a low laugh which made her white 
 teeth flash and sparkle in the moonlight, she turned
 
 90 AT THE KANCH-HOUSE. 
 
 about, resolutely pushed the door open wide, and 
 disappeared. 
 
 For a moment there was a commotion inside which 
 would, at least, have brought Panza to the spot had 
 she been upon the butte, but no one heard it, and pres- 
 ently Weno appeared leading Sancho who came with 
 decided protestations. She had succeeded in getting 
 on the bridle, but had evidently found it impossible to 
 put on either the saddle or blanket. 
 
 Once out of the stable he made less noise, but it be- 
 came almost impossible for her to manage him. More 
 than once he lifted her off her feet as she clung to the 
 bridle, and by slow degrees guided him down the butte 
 toward the west. When he stopped, positively refus- 
 ing to go farther, she patiently waited, patted him as 
 he rubbed his nose over the hunting jacket, and with 
 the same low laugh whispered : " Young master's coat. 
 Weno say Sanch heap good pony. Heap good friend 
 young master. Heap know young master's coat." 
 
 At last the foot of the butte was gained and Weno 
 prepared for the last struggle. Many a wild Indian 
 pony and unruly bronco had yielded to her. She was 
 not afraid of Sancho, but she evidently realized 
 that a difficult task was before her. She took off the 
 hunting jacket and threw it on the ground, very gently 
 sliding her hand along Sancho's neck till she fastened 
 a firm grip of the dusky little fingers upon his mane 
 just over the shoulder. For a moment Sancho seemed
 
 AT THE RANCH-HOUSE. 
 
 91 
 
 to have forgotten her. He was pushing the coat about 
 with his nose, as though hunting for the master that 
 should be inside of it. 
 
 Weno watched him for an instant, then she drew a 
 long breath, the muscles over her bare arms and 
 shoulders stood out and quivered in the moonlight, and 
 the next instant she was sitting on Sancho's back. He 
 
 WENO AND SANCHO. 
 
 was taken completely by surprise, but had not the least 
 intention of allowing the acquaintance to go any farther. 
 He lunged, reared, kicked, snorted and plunged about. 
 He tried to bite and tried to roll. He looked about 
 for some tree or fence against which he could scrape 
 off his unwelcome burden. Doubtless he had never 
 learned the frontier art of bucking, for that was the 
 only means he did not try ; but when, at last, he was
 
 92 AT THE RANCH-HOUSE. 
 
 exhausted, and stopped from sheer inability to do any- 
 thing more, he found Wenononee still sitting upon his 
 back, holding the reins firmly in her hand. 
 
 Now it was her turn ; and the moment Sancho paused 
 she curled her feet under him, punching his sides with 
 her bare, heels. If Sancho thought himself thoroughly 
 exhausted he must have been surprised to find how 
 much go there was left in him after all, as, with a 
 savage grunt, he shut his eyes, laid back his ears, and 
 started at a wild run down the prairie. He ran as 
 though it were an idea entirely his own and not at 
 all what Weno wanted of him. With leap after leap 
 he cleared the ground, hardly seeming to touch it. 
 By degrees Weno worked him about into the direction 
 of the ranch-house, but she did not try to check him 
 till they were approaching the buildings. Then, just 
 as she was preparing to make the attempt and wonder- 
 ing how she should succeed, something happened which 
 entirely relieved her of the necessity. 
 
 The trail led directly to the cabin door, and instinct- 
 ively Sancho had been following it. It was not a 
 part of Weno's purpose to let herself be known, but 
 she began to realize that possibly it might be very 
 hard to arrange it in any other way, when suddenly, as 
 they came within fifty feet of the cabin door, a sharp 
 bark sounded from inside. Sancho stopped short. It 
 threw him on to his haunches and very nearly threw 
 Weno over his head. With his ears pricked up he
 
 WBNO PAUSED, TO GATHBB COURAOB.
 
 AT THE RANCH-HOUSE. 95 
 
 stood still and listened. A moment later the bark 
 was repeated, though not so loud, and with a low, pecu- 
 liar whinny Sancho started toward the door; but 
 Wenononee was no longer upon his back. As fast as 
 her Indian feet could carry her she was running along 
 the trail by which she had just come. As she ran she 
 said to herself : " Dat heap good pony. Know heap. 
 Heap good dog." 
 
 Thus for the fourth time that night she followed the 
 trail between the ranch-house and the village. It was 
 a long distance, and though she hurried till her bare 
 feet were cut and bruised, it was almost sunrise when 
 she reached the butte and hid behind the clump of 
 shrubbery near the stable where she had left her 
 clothes. 
 
 When she cam'e out again she was once more the 
 little Indian girl, with leggings and moccasins, loose 
 dress and flowing hair, wrapped in her bright-colored 
 blanket. 
 
 This time she walked straight to the great house on 
 the summit of the butte, but she walked slowly, for she 
 was very tired and much more frightened than she was 
 when leading Sancho. 
 
 At the steps she paused for a moment, just where 
 Oscar stood during his last struggle the night before, 
 waiting to gather courage. 
 
 It is very probable that her task was harder for her 
 than his had been for him, but she faced it bravely a
 
 96 AT THE RANCH-HOUSE. 
 
 moment later, walking resolutely up the steps and 
 entering the hall. 
 
 When she appeared again there was a peculiar light 
 in her eyes and a proud smile on her lips. She was 
 satisfied with what she had accomplished. She walked 
 slowly down the butte by the longest way, that she 
 might recover the hunting jacket, and then turned 
 homeward, singing all the way ; for her work was 
 done.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 BRIGHTER PROSPECTS. 
 
 OSCAR was aroused from a deep sleep by the bark 
 which Wenononee heard. He knew that it was Panza, 
 but it mingled with his dreams and he was still only 
 half-awake when he heard the second bark and answer- 
 ing neigh. He began to wonder where he was, and if 
 he were awake or asleep, and how he came to be in 
 that curious little bunk. Then he remembered his 
 present position, and shut his eyes again, forgetting 
 what had roused him, trying to go to sleep once more, 
 if only for a little while longer to forget his troubles. 
 
 Charlie had been roused almost as quickly as Panza. 
 He heard the approaching hoofs and lay in his bunk 
 listening to know where they were going. He heard 
 them come directly to the door and stop there, and 
 wondered why no one entered. He watched Panza 
 sniffing and whining at the door. He heard a horse 
 pawing the ground outside, and very slowly rolled out 
 of 'his bunk and went to the door to investigate. 
 
 97
 
 98 BRIGHTER PROSPECTS. 
 
 Oscar, who had been gradually coming to conscious- 
 ness, opened his eyes again as Charlie opened the door. 
 In the gray light of early morning he saw Panza dash 
 out before the door was half -open. He heard Charlie 
 mutter some exclamation of surprise. Then he heard 
 a whinny which brought him to his feet in an instant, 
 and before he knew it he was standing at the door with 
 his hand on Sancho's neck. 
 
 " For mercy's sake ! How did you come here ? " 
 he asked in astonishment. 
 
 " He's had a tight lick of it, however he came," 
 Charlie observed. " Look at him pant. He's beauti- 
 fully blown, and he's just painted with lather." 
 
 " Do you suppose he broke away and followed me, 
 like a dog ? " Oscar asked, ready to believe Sancho 
 capable of anything. 
 
 " Where did you leave him ? " Charlie inquired. 
 
 " Safe in the stable, and locked in at that." 
 
 "With the bridle on?" 
 
 " Of course not." 
 
 Charlie pointed to the bridle. 
 
 "I'll tell you what, some one must have tried to 
 saddle him and he got away," Oscar exclaimed. " A 
 stranger would find it pretty tough work to saddle 
 him, and harder still to ride him." 
 
 " Somebody has been riding him to-night," Charlie 
 replied, running his hand along Sancho's back. " And 
 what's more, it was an Indian."
 
 BRIGHTER PROSPECTS. 99 
 
 " An Indian ! " Oscar turned in still greater aston- 
 ishment to examine the mark on Sancho's back where 
 the moist hair had been matted down. "Some Indian 
 must have tried to steal him." 
 
 "Well, that don't account for his coming here," 
 Charlie said, shaking his head. "And no Indian 
 would have brought a stolen horse near this ranch- 
 house while Mountain Charlie was about, you can 
 bet," he added, with true frontier pride. " But we'd 
 better run him into the stable to dry off or he'll catch 
 cold and die of pneumonia while we're settling how he 
 came here. That would be a big lump out of your 
 pocket besides all you think of him yourself." 
 
 " He doesn't belong to me any longer. I sold him, 
 last night," Oscar replied, sadly ; and as they walked 
 toward the stable he added, "as soon as we've had 
 breakfast, Charlie, I'll tell you all about it." 
 
 Oscar had reached a point where he must tell some 
 one. The burden was fast becoming heavier than he 
 could bear alone. His father had been very fond of 
 Mountain Charlie, and he had found him a cool-headed, 
 warm-hearted fellow. He was the most of a friend 
 he had in Manitoba, and without waiting to consider 
 the matter he resolved to lay the whole story before 
 him, from the beginning. 
 
 The regulation ranch-house breakfast was quickly 
 prepared and thoroughly palatable, if one had a good 
 appetite and digestion, consisting of venison fried with
 
 100 BRIGHTER PROSPECTS. 
 
 bacon, oatmeal pancakes and coffee. The sun was 
 shining when they went out of the ranch-house again. 
 Charlie mounted the upper rail of the stable fence. 
 Oscar threw himself upon a log lying on the ground, 
 and with one arm twisted about a rail of the fence sat 
 looking up at his cowboy friend and told his story, be- 
 ginning with the day in the woods with his father. 
 
 Mountain Charlie did not speak a word till he had 
 come to the end, in the finding of Sancho at the ranch- 
 house door. Then he swung his foot deliberately over 
 the rail, looked at his boot for a moment in silence 
 and finally remarked : " Well, I call that a clean 
 stampede. It's a wholesale washout if there ever was 
 one." 
 
 Oscar laughed, for to tell the truth he felt much 
 better now that he had shared his burden with some 
 one. It did not seem half so serious and heavy with 
 some one holding one end of it, and he replied, " I have 
 been pretty well stampeded, you're right ; and I feel 
 pretty well washed out, though maybe that part of it 
 will do me no great harm in the end ; but what there 
 is left of me is going ahead to put the fight through, 
 hit or miss, neck or nothing, till I find that man and 
 have him punished." 
 
 " You say he had charge of a mine at the Black 
 Hills and another at Leadville ? " Charlie asked. 
 
 " He had one of his own at the Black Hills, and the 
 one of my father's which he was developing was at
 
 BRIGHTER PROSPECTS. 101 
 
 Leadville. So I am going to the Black Hills on the 
 way, and if he is not there I am going to Leadville." 
 
 " Are you expecting to get possession of a big 
 mine ? " Charlie inquired. 
 
 " No ; nor a small one either," Oscar replied, de- 
 cidedly. "In the first place, I do not care anything 
 about it, and in the second place, if that is the man 
 who shot my father he did it to obtain possession of 
 the mine, and he certainly would not have left it open 
 for me to get it back." 
 
 " It's about all a fellow's life is worth to make that 
 trip 'twixt here and Leadville, running the risk of 
 Indians alone, not to speak of an occasional drift of 
 pale faces that's worse to strike than all the red skins 
 in a bunch," Charlie said. 
 
 " Well, it's my duty, and that's all there is to it," 
 Oscar replied, leaning back and supporting himself by 
 the rail ; "and I'd rather die doing my duty than live 
 shirking it." 
 
 "A fellow's scalp is a mighty precious piece of 
 furniture," Charlie remarked, suggestively scratching 
 his head. 
 
 " Well, I don't mean to lose mine, by a large 
 majority, if I can help it ; but wouldn't you rather 
 lose it than keep it knowing that it covered up a 
 coward who didn't dare to do his duty ? " Oscar asked. 
 
 " Put it that way and of course I would. Yes. 
 But I'd a big sight rather walk a long way round to
 
 102 BRIGHTER PROSPECTS. 
 
 do it than ride the best horse in the country cross lots 
 within gunshot of a bunch of Indians, if they meant 
 business," Charlie insisted. 
 
 Oscar looked up in surprise as he exclaimed, " Why, 
 I have heard my father say that you were worth any 
 five men in Manitoba for fighting Indians." 
 
 " Your father always thought better of any one than 
 he deserved," Charlie replied earnestly. " The fact is, 
 a fellow will do lots of things when he's once got his 
 foot in it that he wouldn't start out to do for the fun 
 of it. Your father was always talking of a time when 
 I happened on some twenty Indians running a bunch 
 of cows up into the mountains. I saw the cows first, 
 and never mistrusted that there were Indians behind 
 them. That was what I was there for, and I went for 
 them. Of course I was alone, and if I had known 
 of the Indians at the start I'd have thought twice, at 
 any rate ; but when I saw 'um it was too late. Well, 
 I brought the cows back, every head of 'um, though 
 the skunks fought me clean to the open. My horse 
 was hit once, and one ball lodged in the saddle and 
 one went through that arm. I got my Winchester 
 hot before they hit me, though, and after that I hauled 
 out my six-shooters, one after the other, and let out 
 what there was in them. When I came out of the 
 woods there were but five Indians left to go back 
 and pick up the rest. Such things are pretty enough 
 to talk about afterward, and your father made too much
 
 BRIGHTER PROSPECTS. 103 
 
 of it. I tell you I would walk ten miles and sleep 
 in a snowdrift, rather than hear an Indian whoop." 
 
 " Well, I've got to go, Indians or no Indians," Oscar 
 replied. " And as that's all there is about it I may 
 as well make the best of it." 
 
 " I'll tell you what it is," Charlie exclaimed, throw- 
 ing his hat on the ground and leaning back against 
 the post, " I'd never have punched cows up in this 
 frozen-to-death country if it had not been for the liking 
 I took to your father. I thought I'd hang on and do 
 the best I could for you, too, but if that game's up 
 I'm going to make tracks for the States again. I'd a 
 heap rather have company than go alone, and if you'll 
 let me I'll go along with you till well, till I strike a 
 job, somewhere. I don't believe it's straight business, 
 this taking the property away from you. There's a 
 clean fraud about it, I'll bet my best bronco; but ex- 
 cept for horse-thieves and smugglers and sich, there's 
 no great surplus of law in these parts. Possession is 
 nine points of what there is, and whoever the other fel- 
 low may be he surely has possession. I'd like to skin 
 him, and maybe we'll have a chance some day. I'm 
 thinking that when you've found the man you're after 
 you'll find that you've killed two birds with one stone. 
 Never mind. What do you say : do you think that 
 poor company's better than none ? " 
 
 " Your company would be better than the best I 
 know of," Oscar exclaimed.
 
 104 
 
 BRIGHTER PROSPECTS. 
 
 THE INDIAN MESSENGER. 
 
 At that moment Panza gave her low, warning growl. 
 They both started, listened for an instant, and then 
 looked down the trail along which they soon saw a 
 rider approaching. 
 
 " He's a red skin. How I hate the sight of 'um ! " 
 Charlie muttered,
 
 BRIGHTER PROSPECTS. 105 
 
 He was headed for the ranch-house, and as he came 
 nearer Oscar asked : " Do you think he can be the fel- 
 low who brought Sancho here ? Maybe he was riding 
 and got thrown, and has followed him." 
 
 " Not by a large majority," Charlie replied, decidedly. 
 " In the first place, he wouldn't dare follow a stolen 
 horse to this ranch even if he knew he was here ; and 
 in the second place, the coon that rode your horse last 
 night was liftle. Don't you remember where the heel- 
 marks were? He wasn't so tall as you into five or six 
 inches, while this fellow is 'most a head taller. O, 
 no ! He is not the one." 
 
 " I know who he is ! " Oscar exclaimed. " He's the 
 Indian' that the fellow had at the house with him last 
 night." 
 
 He turned directly toward them, now, holding a 
 letter in his hand. A few paces off he halted, grunt- 
 ing a salute, muttering, " How," and extending a 
 letter toward Oscar, who rose from the log and 
 received it. 
 
 He began to ask the Indian a question about Sancho, 
 but the moment the letter left his fingers the fellow 
 whirled his horse and rode away as though some one 
 had fired at him. 
 
 " That's a rather queer performance," Oscar re- 
 marked, breaking the seal. Then he began to smile, 
 as he read, and at last laughed outright. When he 
 had finished he read the letter aloud :
 
 106 BRIGHTER PROSPECTS. 
 
 MR. PETERSON. 
 
 Respected Sir : Some one stole your hoss last night. I might 
 uv thought you left the barn door open only I know who stole 
 him and vvhar he is now. Don't suspicion that I think you had 
 a hand in it for I don't. No more I don't want him back and 
 won't take him. Though he's a dretful likely piece of hoss flesh 
 and I wish you joy of him. I shall send his saddle and the rest 
 of his outfit to whar you are now by the supply wagon going 
 down from the store this arternoon, cause I hear they wusn't 
 stole with the hoss. I don't want none of 'um. It's all right 
 about the Injun squaws. I didn't understand when I told 'um 
 to git. They can hang onter the cabin till the sky falls. I 
 told 'um so this morning. Whatever it is you've got to do away 
 from here I wisht you'd hurry up and get back, 'cause if thar's 
 a mistake 'bout this business I want to know it. I don't want 
 to wrong no kid like you. I won't change nothing but try to 
 keep things going as they is, best I can, till you get back. You're 
 a trump, you are, and I wisht I hadn't begun with you the way I 
 did. I was drunk last night and I apologise. If you will excuse 
 me sir and allow me to remain, 
 
 Your obedient servant, 
 
 SIMON BROWN. 
 
 " Now what does that mean ? " Oscar asked, as he 
 finished reading and sat down again on the log. 
 
 " It means that the coon has got some mighty good 
 cows in his corral yet, and that he's likely to be as 
 good a friend of yours as he knows how," Charlie re- 
 plied. " If you should find out that there was a mis- 
 take or a fraud, and that you have rights there, he'll 
 take your side against the other fellow, I'll bet. And 
 he and not the other fellow has possession, so you 
 may have the nine points of the law on your side, after
 
 BRIGHTER PROSPECTS. 107 
 
 all. Why don't you go back and talk it over with 
 him ? " 
 
 "I don't know as I really care to just now," Oscar 
 remarked as he folded the letter. " This other work 
 is much more important, and now that I have Sancho 
 a<jain I want to start at once." 
 
 o 
 
 " Perhaps you're right about not seeing him. He'll 
 keep just as well without. But you can't start with- 
 out your saddle, and Sancho isn't fit, either, after last 
 night. We need some grub, too, to take with us. 
 Suppose we go out shooting this morning, and start 
 fresh at daylight to-morrow ? " 
 
 Oscar readily consented ; and as no time was to be 
 lost they started at once for the foot-hills where, for 
 the most exciting sport and the best game, they should 
 have been waiting as the sun came up.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 WITH SHOT-GUN AND RIFLE. 
 
 "THE best sport is to get out before daylight and 
 wing the game in its first flight up the lakes," Charlie 
 remarked as they trudged rapidly through the outskirts 
 of the forest. He had hunted and fished and fought 
 and ranged in those hills and forests too much not to 
 know where game was to be found at any hour of the 
 day, however. " There'll be brant up in that valley, 
 and duck and plover in a line of little lakes running- 
 down that long gorge to the left. That's the spot for 
 us to strike, I reckon, for we're liable to hit a flock of 
 geese coming down the gorge. From ten to twelve, 
 any day, you'll near the old honkers away at the ranch- 
 house. Crane are everywhere. We may run across a 
 hundred of them ; but you can't depend upon crane 
 turning up where you expect them, later than an hour 
 after sunrise, and again about sundown." 
 
 " I wish I knew as much as you do," Oscar ex- 
 claimed enthusiastically. 
 
 108
 
 WITH SHOT-GUN AND RIFLE. 109 
 
 " If I was in Oxford and wanted some dinner I 
 reckon I should have to depend on you to show me 
 the way ; and you'd be ashamed of yourself if you 
 didn't know," Charlie remarked. 
 
 " I could take you to a restaurant or a hotel, of 
 course," Oscar replied. 
 
 " Weil, this is our hotel, restaurant, meat market, 
 produce exchange and everything else," Charlie said. 
 
 " But the stuff isn't always hanging upon precisely 
 the same pegs and down precisely the same streets, as 
 it is in Oxford," Oscar argued. 
 
 " Yes, it is," Charlie replied. " It's only in a coun- 
 try that is settled up and hunted to death, where the 
 game is born frightened, that you have to go prowling 
 about to find it. Any man who knew ducks and deer 
 in any part of the world where they are let alone, could 
 find them here as easily as you could find a meat mar- 
 ket in a strange city. They're always on the same 
 kind of streets, and they stay at the same stands 
 hanging themselves upon the very same pegs, so to 
 speak, year after year, unless they get so thoroughly 
 frightened that they absolutely have to hunt up a new 
 shop." 
 
 Charlie stopped short and looked away to the north- 
 west, up the long and narrow reach between the hills. 
 
 "Get behind a bush! Be quick!" he exclaimed, 
 setting the example, which Oscar followed, diving be- 
 hind the nearest clump of shrubbery. " Those are
 
 110 WITH SHOT-GUN AND RIFLE. 
 
 crane, and they're headed to go straight over us if they 
 don't change their minds. Ay, they're coming. We're 
 in luck. Crane steaks are fine ! Crane fly slowly, 
 but they get there in time, and they are flying low. 
 Hope they don't light. No ; they're going for the 
 wheat back of the ranch." 
 
 Oscar heard these low, half-whispered sentences 
 coming from Charlie's hiding-place, while he almost 
 held his breath and quivered with excitement as, 
 through the branches, he watched the huge crane com- 
 ing nearer and nearer, their long legs dangling behind 
 them like streamers. His cheeks glowed as he lifted 
 to his shoulder the shot-gun he had brought from the 
 ranch-house. . 
 
 On they came. They were so near now that he 
 could distinguish their feathers and see the peculiar 
 undulations of their heads and necks stretching out 
 almost as far in front of them as their long legs trailed 
 behind. 
 
 " Are you ready ? " Charlie whispered. 
 
 " All ready," Oscar replied, running his eye along 
 his gun with the inevitable nervousness of the real 
 sportsman. 
 
 " Take the leaders. I'll wait till they turn, and try 
 then," Charlie said. 
 
 Oscar waited an instant, to bring the flock as near 
 as possible between himself and Charlie. They were 
 great, gaunt, ungainly creatures, and there was some-
 
 WITH SHOT-GUN AND RIFLE. HI 
 
 thing almost frightful in the flopping of their huge 
 wings. It was a sensation which Oscar had never felt 
 before, and at the very instant when he was prepared 
 to fire his strengtli almost deserted him. Every hunter 
 can easily appreciate it, but Oscar had not been a 
 hunter long enough to know what it meant. Cha- 
 grined, he made a sudden effort to pull himself to- 
 gether, and fired. 
 
 The great creature instantly doubled over his sight, 
 and before it was clear the entire flock was so demoral- 
 ized that at the instant it would have been impossible 
 to single out any one of them. 
 
 If Oscar had been a little better drilled and experi- 
 enced in the higher art of hunting he might have 
 
 o o o 
 
 waited for them to straighten themselves out, that he 
 might know where he was shooting, but he was quite 
 too nervous and excited to think of higher art in any- 
 thing, and gave the full benefit of the second barrel at 
 the mass of flopping wings and trailing legs and long 
 necks and open beaks, not over forty yards away. 
 
 Another huge crane came flopping to the ground, 
 however, and at the double report of Charlie's gun, a 
 second later, two more fell. 
 
 "Pretty good toll from that bunch," Charlie re- 
 marked as the rest flew away, and he began deliberately 
 to reload. 
 
 Oscar was too excited for that regulation precaution, 
 and dropping his gun started for the game. The first
 
 112 WITH SHOT-GUN AND RIFLE. 
 
 crane fell near their hiding-place, and was stone dead. 
 Oscar hurried on to the next. He, too, seemed dead, 
 at least, and Oscar stooped down to pick him up and 
 throw him beside the first, when, to his astonishment, 
 with a furious flutter, the huge creature sprang to his 
 feet, uttering a shrill hissing cry, beating the air 
 fiercely with his wings, while the feathers 011 his neck 
 and back were savagely ruffled for a fight. 
 
 For a moment the two stood looking at each other, 
 wondering what it was best to do next. Oscar was 
 afraid the bird was about to rise, and made a grab for 
 his neck. Quick as a flash, the bird dodged and re- 
 turned the attack by fastening its sharp beak in 
 Oscar's hand. Then it struck for his face, and Oscar 
 swung up his arm just in time to save himself. 
 
 The battle once begun, the crane did not propose to 
 drop the matter, but with wings and feet and beak 
 came at Oscar in a most scientific way, that did not 
 give him a chance to do anything but defend himself.- 
 It was all the action of an instant, but as desperate as 
 it was sudden ; too quick even for Charlie to come to 
 the rescire. Oscar thought of his gun lying on the 
 ground twenty feet behind him. He turned to run 
 for it, as he could at least strike with the stock from a 
 safe distance, when, with a triumphant hiss, the crane 
 started after him, jabbing him in the back of the neck. 
 
 At that moment Charlie came from his hiding- 
 place, with his gun on his shoulder, and when the
 
 WITH SHOT-GUN AND RIFLE. 
 
 113 
 
 crane saw him it left the retreating foe and made for 
 the cowboy. When he could safely fire, the crane fell 
 dead, and Charlie rolled over and over on the ground, 
 convulsed with laughter. 
 
 Oscar did not much fancy the part he had played, 
 but he could not help joining m the laugh, as he real- 
 
 HE TURNED TO RUN. 
 
 ized how supremely ridiculous he must have appeared 
 running away from a bird he had shot. 
 
 " It was the funniest thing I ever saw in all 
 my life," Charlie gasped, and began to laugh again. 
 " You looked so astonished when he jumped up. And
 
 114 WITH SHOT-GUN AND RIFLE. 
 
 the way he hustled you ! Why, he didn't give you a 
 chance to lift a finger on your own account. Then 
 when you turned, and he thought he'd scored a point, 
 and started after you with a crow, that just beat 
 everything." 
 
 " Well, it was a pretty poor beginning, any way," 
 Oscar observed, as he lifted the dead bird. " I'm 
 afraid I should make poor work with Indians, at 
 that rate." 
 
 " Now don't be ashamed of your antagonist," 
 Charlie exclaimed. " A wounded crane is no mean 
 thing to handle. If I had been in your place I should 
 simply have turned and run at the start. A crane 
 killed an Indian up here last year. They always 
 strike for the eyes if they can, like the heron ; and this 
 fellow sent his beak clean through into the Indian's 
 brain. I didn't laugh when you were facing him, 
 now, I tell you. But when you started off, and he 
 gave that crow, and put after you " Charlie leaned 
 back again and laughed. " Well, come on ! Let's 
 skin 'um and clean 'um, and cut off their heads and 
 wings and legs, or we shall have more than we can 
 carry before we get through." 
 
 "I wish they had not taken my dog out on the 
 range with them," he added, a little later, as they 
 approached one of the almost innumerable little marshy 
 lakes that lie hidden among the mountains of Mani- 
 toba. " He's a little fellow, and no great breed any
 
 WITH SHOT-GUN AND RIFLE. 115 
 
 way, but he's mighty good with cattle, and a terror at 
 hearing things in the night, or smelling an Indian. 
 He hates 'um as bad as I do. That's why they 
 snaked him out there to spend the summer with them 
 in the bottom ; but I told 'um I'd come for him and 
 take him with me when I went into the hills. Now 
 they can keep him. Yes ; he's a beauty for offhand 
 hunting, I tell you. There's not much science about 
 him, but he can spot game just the same, and he can 
 just everlastingly pick it up and bring it in. I've 
 seen him fetch a goose that was bigger than he was 
 a regular old honker ; and one that was only wounded, 
 at that." 
 
 " I never trained Panza for shooting," Oscar said. 
 " She'd be too big to be any good, and " Before he 
 
 finished speaking, a grouse flushed just upon his right, 
 and the last word was lost in the report of his gun. 
 
 " Jiminy ! That was a good shot," Charlie ex- 
 claimed as the grouse fell, and a long line of feathers 
 floated away on the wind. 
 
 Frightened by the report, several more rose, but 
 too far away, and there being no dog to indicate their 
 whereabouts in advance, they succeeded in startling 
 others without getting another shot. It was no great 
 loss, however, for every muskrat dome along the marsh 
 was made the sunning-place for mallards, widgeons 
 and sprig-tails that had finished their breakfast, and 
 were waiting till they were hungry enough for lunch.
 
 116 WITH SHOT-GUN AND RIFLE. 
 
 " The trouble now is that they have nothing to do, 
 and are on the watch. You can't wing 'um. You've 
 got to sneak up and take 'um dead still. If you're 
 only out to stock the larder, though, that's not so 
 bad. I have filled her up with shot, and taken as 
 good as five at one crack, that way. Just before day- 
 light is the time for real sport," Charlie continued, as 
 he tied the game they had bagged so far, and, slinging 
 it over his shoulder, started for a new field. " When 
 it's cold as it was a month ago, just come out here in 
 the dark, and stand round in this mush till your blood 
 is like cold molasses, waiting for light enough to sight 
 your gun. 
 
 " Everything is on the wing, then. There's no 
 danger of freezing to death, for between each shiver 
 you hear the whir and the rush as a flock of ducks 
 goes sailing over your head. Sometimes a zipping 
 wing will go past within a few feet of your ear, and 
 give you a good start ; for they don't begin to climb 
 till later in the day. You can't see a shadow of 
 'urn, it's so dark, just before day ; but you know 
 they're there, and it sets your heart going. Then it 
 lights up a little in the east, and you can see them plain 
 against it as they come steadily sweeping up to you ; 
 but by the time they get here you're looking against 
 a darker sky, and you can't see a feather of 'um, and 
 that makes you mad. Next you know, you can pick 
 out your birds overhead, and down they come. Then
 
 WITH SHOT-GUN AND RIFLE. 117 
 
 you get warm quick enough, I tell you, and Hark ! 
 What's that?" 
 
 They both listened intently, and from far down the 
 gap they heard a steady honking coming up the line 
 of lakes. 
 
 "Geese! What luck!" Charlie exclaimed. "Stuff 
 in a lot of heavy shot, and let 'um have it from behind 
 these reeds." 
 
 Every moment the honking became louder. 
 
 " Geese fly fast, you know," Charlie explained in a 
 nervous whisper. " You take the leaders again, and 
 I'll follow. Give them a good margin. When you're 
 sighted, follow along till you just lose sight of the 
 beak. Keep your gun still moving, and let her go." 
 
 They could see them, now, and they did fly fast ; 
 but most of the flock had drifted too far out over the 
 lake to get them without dogs. There were only three 
 in range. It was a moment of intense excitement. 
 Oscar had never shot at a goose before. He tried to 
 follow Charlie's instructions, but his first shot missed. 
 It brought the three honkers to a standstill, however, 
 and while they were turning out over the lake he fired 
 again and brought one down. Charlie had only time 
 for one shot before they were too far away to recover. 
 
 " Well, two out of three is pretty fair toll," Charlie 
 remarked as they dressed and skinned their game ; and 
 before noon they had a burden quite as heavy as they 
 could carry between them.
 
 118 WITH SHOT-GUN AND RIFLE. 
 
 As they were slowly making their way back to the 
 ranch-house, Oscar caught sight of a pair of antlers 
 above the reeds on the shore of a little lake away upon 
 their right. 
 
 " There's plenty of those fellows around, this spring," 
 Charlie remarked. " But these shot-guns would only 
 frighten them, and we couldn't carry home a pound 
 more than we have." 
 
 " Couldn't we come back for' them with the horses ?" 
 
 S THE LAKE. 
 
 Oscar asked. " I never shot a deer, and I'd like to 
 get one good pop." 
 
 "You never shot a deer ! " Charlie, who was walk- 
 ing ahead, stopped short and turned round as well as 
 he could, without dropping the pole. " Well, you'd 
 be too great a curiosity to live long in Manitoba, at 
 that rate. Of course we'll come back again. And 
 come to think, a haunch of venison won't be bad to 
 hook on to the pack horse, 'long with some of these 
 birds. It'll enliven the outfit immensely. Morning's
 
 WITH SHOT-GUN AND RIFLE. 119 
 
 the best time for deer, too ; but I reckon that along 
 toward evening I can find a spot where some of 'urn 
 will be coming down to the lake for a nightcap." 
 
 They spent an hour or two of the afternoon in mak- 
 ing up their outfit, and while the keeper of the ranch- 
 house was preparing the best of the game for their 
 pack, they rode into the woods again in search of deer. 
 This time Sancho and Panza were along, and as they 
 approached the spot which Charlie had selected, he 
 said : " I'll hang round here with the horses, while 
 you work your way up the lake. I don't suppose any 
 one would trouble the horses if we left them alone. 
 There are no bad Indians in the neighborhood that I 
 know of ; but no matter how good and peaceable he is, 
 a member of the Lo family isn't to be trusted alone in 
 the woods where a horse is handy, any more than a 
 bank cashier in the States, if he's on the line of the 
 night express for Canada. Just go easy, and work 
 along the shore to the upper end of the lake. Keep 
 your eyes peeled, especially where there are patches of 
 moss. If I ain't more than mistaken, before you turn 
 back you'll strike one herd at least. If you keep out 
 of sight, and see them before they see you, you've got 
 'um ; but if they show you their tails, just let them 
 go, and try for more. A little noise will scare them 
 quicker than anything else ; but if you see them first, 
 and run your handkerchief out on a limb, it will some- 
 times draw them down to you. There'll always be
 
 120 WITH SHOT-GUN AND RIFLE. 
 
 one big buck with the bunch. He's your man. Take 
 him right behind the fore shoulder if you can ; if not, 
 then take the neck right behind the horns." 
 
 The sun was less than an hour high when Oscar 
 started up the lake. He walked carefully, keeping as 
 much out of sight as possible, and stopping occasion- 
 ally to look about him. But the position was against 
 him. The dry twigs would snap under his feet, and 
 twice he had the chagrin of looking up to see the dark- 
 brown figures disappearing, that told him how near he 
 had been to the coveted prize. 
 
 He was nearing the head of the lake, and growing 
 disappointed, when, in turning about a huge bowlder 
 that extended into the water, he discovered, on the 
 hillside above him, and less than a thousand feet away, 
 four of those slender, graceful creatures, standing out 
 against the glowing western sky as though they were 
 drawn in India ink. 
 
 It almost took his breath away, and his fingers 
 twitched nervously about his rifle as he stood riveted 
 to the spot, admiring the beautiful picture. 
 
 They were slowly moving toward the water, crop- 
 ping here and there a tempting bit of moss as they 
 passed it. 
 
 From a sportsman's view his position was the most un- 
 fortunate possible. They were coming directly toward 
 him. He could not move without attracting their 
 attention. They were above him, and even while they
 
 WITH SHOT-GUN AND RIFLE. 121 
 
 were eating would be looking right toward him. The 
 sun was behind them, and full in his eyes. But for 
 
 EVERT HEAD WAS LIFTED. 
 
 simple beauty, a better position could not have been 
 found. 
 
 They saw him quite as soon as he saw them, for 
 every head was lifted, and every deer stood like a 
 figure in bronze, planted on that mossy knoll.
 
 122 WITH SHOT-GUN AND RIFLE. 
 
 The old doe was in front, with the youngest of the 
 family just behind her, stretching its neck to see what 
 was moving down below. A two-year-old came next, 
 and the old buck was behind, standing on the very 
 brow of the hill, knee-deep in moss. He stood square 
 to the front, with his head erect, and his graceful 
 antlers sharp and clear against the sky. 
 
 For a moment Oscar forgot his errand. With the 
 sun in his eyes, and the narrow front which the old 
 buck presented, he would not have ventured to fire 
 even if he had been nearer, and he stood watching the 
 group With much the same interest that they stood 
 watching him. 
 
 They did not seem much afraid, or at all inclined to 
 move away ; and as the hunter's nature began to assert 
 itself again, Oscar drew back behind the bowlder so 
 slowly and cautiously that he did not disturb them, 
 and carefully picked his way to a position where he 
 could watch them through the branches, without being 
 seen. 
 
 They were evidently suspicious, and ready, very 
 easily, to take alarm ; but gradually ventured nearer 
 and nearer to the lake. 
 
 At last the sportsman conquered entirely, and with 
 every muscle strained and quivering, with his heart 
 throbbing and his lips parched, Oscar knelt in the 
 shrubbei-y and waited. 
 
 Three times they seemed more inclined to turn back,
 
 WITH SHOT-GUN AND RIFLE. 123 
 
 and three times his finger trembled on the trigger. It 
 was a bad position for a shot, but he was determined 
 to run his chance and fire, rather than let them go. 
 
 With many a timid start and doubtful sniff they 
 reached the edge of the grass by the lake, not more 
 than a hundred yards away, and all the time the old 
 buck had kept his face directly toward the bushes 
 where Oscar was hiding. 
 
 Oh ! if he would only turn. He must turn ! It 
 seemed hours instead of less than fifteen minutes since 
 they started down the hill. 
 
 In his intense excitement Oscar moved one knee a 
 hair-breadth for a firmer rest, to stop its trembling. 
 One little twig cracked under it, and in an instant 
 every deer had whirled about and started up the hill. 
 Oscar sprang to his feet, aimed and fired before he 
 really knew what he was doing, and it was with a 
 peculiar sensation of surprise that he saw the old buck 
 give one leap into the air and roll over on the moss. 
 
 Springing forward he cut the buck's throat to let 
 him bleed, and standing back a step or two looked at 
 his first capture with an exultant admiration which 
 only a sportsman can appreciate. 
 
 The triumph was too great to keep to himself long, 
 however. He thought of his friends at the opposite 
 end of the lake, and dropping his rifle put his fingers 
 to his lips and sent a shrill, sharp whistle, three times, 
 echoing down the gorge. He stood listening intently
 
 124 WITH SHOT-GUN AND RIFLE. 
 
 for a moment till up the lake there came the response 
 in a distinct but distant bark. Then he threw himself 
 upon the moss beside his prize. 
 
 Mountain Charlie heard the shot, and after waiting 
 a few minutes was preparing to work his way in that 
 direction with the horses, when the distant signal 
 caught his ear. He knew what it must mean, but he 
 was not prepared to see Panza and Sancho understand 
 it perfectly, too. 
 
 Panza was lying down, apparently asleep, and San- 
 cho was lazily cropping the grass at a little distance. 
 In an instant Panza was upon her feet, and Sancho's 
 head was thrown high in the air, with his ears pricked 
 up and his nostrils stretched. The moment the third 
 whistle sounded Panza gave a sharp, fierce yelp which 
 must have sounded along the water for a mile or more, 
 and Sancho tossed his head and watched her while she 
 hunted for a moment till she struck the trail. 
 
 With a low bay Panza indicated that she was on 
 the track, and with her nose to the ground started 
 along the lake. Sancho did not wait for an invitation, 
 but trotted close behind her. 
 
 Charlie stood looking on in astonishment until they 
 started, and then mounting, followed after them. He 
 could easily have found Oscar by shouting or firing 
 his pistol in the regular ranger's signal, but there was 
 no need of it. No guide could have led the way more 
 intelligently. Once or twice she lost the trail for a
 
 WITH SHOT-GUN AND RIFLE. 125 
 
 moment, but Sancho understood her actions as well as 
 the cowboy, and they waited, together, till the path 
 was found again. 
 
 They were not long in coming out upon the knoll 
 where Oscar was sitting, but before Charlie could 
 congratulate him upon his luck he gave vent to 
 deeper feelings in the exclamation : " By Jiminy ! 
 That's a horse and a dog worth having, now I tell 
 you. If nobody steals them before you finish your 
 jaunt it's because they don't know what's what, 
 that's all." 
 
 " Well, I'm precious sure they won't try to steal 
 them if they do know what's what," Oscar replied, 
 laughing; and a moment later they were busily en- 
 gaged upon the deer, preparing to fasten to their 
 saddles such parts as were best worth saving. 
 
 " It makes one think of the poor hungry creatures 
 all over the world, to throw away such meat as that," 
 Oscar remarked, as Charlie filled up the waste pile, 
 where Panza was daintily munching. 
 
 "There's two or three ways of looking at that," 
 Charlie replied. " In the first place, if those poor 
 hungry creatures would only come out here and go to 
 work producing something for themselves, the world 
 they left behind them would be much better off for 
 their going, and the world they came into would be 
 much better off for their coming ; and they could have 
 all this waste stuff or better, and would no longer be
 
 126 WITH SHOT-GUN AND RIFLE. 
 
 hungry and poor. Then again, if they won't coine 
 and get it, it does not really go to waste, after all. 
 You come round here in the morning and how much 
 do you think you will find left of it ? In the course 
 of time it will all turn up somewhere, in the shape of 
 furs and skins or something useful that it has helped 
 to keep alive and fatten. Nature does not ever let 
 anything go to waste, even up here in Manitoba." 
 
 While they were talking there was a splash in the 
 water of the lake. Charlie started, and looked quickly 
 and cautiously in that direction. 
 
 " Look there ! " he whispered. " See that big buck 
 taking the water? He'll round that curve in five 
 minutes. Oh ! if we only had a canoe now, we could 
 head him beautifully." 
 
 At the extreme upper end of the lake the head and 
 towering antlers of a deer appeared, gliding swiftly 
 out over the glistening surface, leaving a trail of danc- 
 ing ripples and a white wake behind. 
 
 " There is a canoe ! " Oscar exclaimed. " I saw 
 one pulled up in the cove as I came round the rock.*' 
 
 " Well, "if that ain't luck and Al ! " Charlie re- 
 plied. " Can you paddle ? " 
 
 " Of course I can," Oscar answered. " But it's 
 your turn. Go for him ! " he added nervously, with- 
 out taking his eyes from the deer as it shot swiftly 
 down the lake toward the narrow run made by the 
 bowlder and the cove.
 
 BIX INCHES FROM THE MARK.
 
 WITH SHOT-GUN AND RIFLE. 129 
 
 " I've shot more deer than I can count," Charlie 
 whispered. " Doii't wait a second. If the canoe is 
 sound get out to the edge of the cove. Wait there 
 till he sees you and turns. Then go it ! Get as near 
 him as you can, and just before he strikes the bank 
 let him have it in his neck, right behind the ears. 
 Be quick ! " 
 
 There was no time for argument, and Oscar did not 
 wait for a second invitation. He was beside the canoe 
 in an instant, and had it in the water without noise 
 enough to startle a mouse ; but it was heavy and old. 
 It had been lying there all winter, and he had to kneel 
 carefully to prevent going through. He had often 
 paddled on Manitoba Lake, with his Indian nurse, be- 
 fore he was five years old, and often upon the Thames 
 between Oxford and the Coltswold hills, but this was 
 something very different. Now his loaded rifle was 
 beside him, and a glorious big buck was gliding past 
 him, while the canoe lay heavily in the water and 
 wabbled till he could hardly manage it. Altogether 
 he made poor progress. More than once the paddle 
 splashed in the water in spite of him, and by the time 
 he reached the edge of the cove where he was to wait, 
 he found that the deer had already heard him and 
 swerved away. There was a long half-circle of ripples 
 bending toward the shore, and the buck, with his back 
 toward the canoe, was making for the opposite bank. 
 
 It was the critical moment. Only a narrow line of
 
 130 WITH SHOT-GUN AND RIFLE. 
 
 neck behind the antlers appeared, in that position, and 
 as the deer was swimming faster now, his head swayed 
 from side to side, and the long hair down his back 
 floated in a constantly twisting line just upon the sur- 
 face. The crank canoe would shift in spite of him, 
 the muscles of his arms quivered, and his hands trem- 
 bled as much from his eager work with the paddle as 
 from excitement. He could even see the muzzle of 
 his rifle wabble. 
 
 An older hunter would have given up, but to Oscar 
 it seemed as though to try and fail were better than 
 not to try at all, and aiming quickly he fired ; but he 
 had the cold comfort of seeing the splash as his bullet 
 struck the water, less than six inches from the mark. 
 
 He paddled back to the shore disconsolately, but as 
 he stepped out of the canoe where Charlie was waiting, 
 he said : " I believe I am glad I didn't hit him, after 
 all. We have more meat than we can use now, and 
 what was the use? He was mighty handsome. Too 
 handsome to kill for the fun of it ! "
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 OVER THE PRAIRIE. 
 
 BEFORE sunrise the next morning they were ready 
 for the start. Charlie owned two horses, one of which 
 they were to use as a pack horse. Upon a regulation 
 pack saddle of the plains was strapped everything 
 absolutely necessary for their journey, and a supply of 
 meat carefully wrapped up in prairie grass. 
 
 As Charlie was laying out the load he remarked, 
 " It makes a pile of difference, with the size, whether 
 you take just what you need or only what you can't 
 do without." 
 
 It seemed to Oscar at the time that they must l>c 
 pretty much the same, but he had occasion, later, to 
 discover that Charlie was right, and that between the 
 two there was a very wide range. 
 
 Seeing the meagerness of what was going on to the 
 pack saddle out of Charlie's private possessions, Oscar 
 protested that in order to make room for blankets, 
 food and other articles for him, Charlie was leaving 
 
 131
 
 132 OVER THE PRAIRIE. 
 
 behind a great many of his own things that were too 
 valuable to abandon. " We can do without them well 
 enough," Charlie replied, " and a pack horse always 
 gives out the first of all." 
 
 " Then why don't you pack them in a box and have 
 them sent to you when you locate ? " Oscar asked. 
 
 " They're of no great value," Charlie answered, 
 throwing another armful into his bunk, " and express- 
 ing is expensive in these parts. However, they'll keep 
 in there as well as anywhere. No one will want to 
 use that bunk before fall, and we don't know what 
 may happen by that time." 
 
 Oscar was satisfied, and never dreamed that Mount- 
 ain Charlie was making that journey simply to be with 
 him to guard him from dangers of which he knew 
 nothing, and aid him in defending himself, in the firm 
 conviction that, if they lived and accomplished their pur- 
 pose, Oscar would yet return and recover his rightful 
 position as the master of the Peterson Estate. 
 
 They mounted just before the first ray of sunlight 
 shot over the prairie from above the distant butte. 
 Panza bristled all over with pride as she was given 
 the lead line of the pack horse to carry, and Oscar 
 cast one sad farewell glance at the speck of black upon 
 the summit of the butte, sharply outlined against the 
 coming morning. To him it seemed beyond a doubt 
 the last time that he should ever see that beautiful 
 home on the heights overlooking Manitoba Lake.
 
 OVER THE PRAIRIE. 133 
 
 It is true that he had not actually lived there many 
 weeks, and that everything was so changed since his 
 early boyhood that the sentiments and associations of 
 those days could have but little to do with the present. 
 In reality, however, he had lived there, and only there, 
 through all his schooldays. Every letter from his 
 father, describing the changes, had fastened them in 
 his mind ; every breath he breathed had been in pre- 
 paration for return. The pride that he felt in the 
 little sign that hung over the shed end of the cabin 
 had grown as he grew, and the ambition that thrilled 
 every hour of study or play had been to perfect his 
 ideal of " Oscar Peterson : Ranchman and Ranger." 
 
 He only looked once at the dark outline on the dis- 
 tant butte. Then he turned his head quickly, and 
 looked away to the south, where his duty lay ; a duty 
 that meant far more to him than any sentiment, hope 
 or ambition. It did not blot out the ambition of his 
 life. It only rose above it. 
 
 Mountain Charlie noticed the farewell glance and 
 the sad face, and had the good sense to realize that 
 Oscar would do better to be let alone, so they started 
 in silence and sadness ; a good omen, perhaps, for a 
 different return. 
 
 For the first mile the horses walked, and Panza fol- 
 lowed sedately, leading her charge. When the rest 
 broke into a canter, if he did not follow quickly 
 enough, she would drop the line for an instant, give
 
 134 OVER THE PRAIRIE. 
 
 his hind leg a nip, and, dashing ahead, pick up the 
 line and hurry on. 
 
 They were able to keep up a fair rate of speed, for 
 the way was generally open, and a part of the time 
 there was a trail to guide them. There were oppor- 
 tunities enough for shooting, but while the stock of 
 provision held out the time was too precious to waste. 
 The first human beings they met were a small band 
 of Indians, during the afternoon of their second day. 
 Charlie talked with them for a moment in signs, and 
 they rode on. 
 
 " That is a language which I must learn about as 
 quickly as I know how," Oscar remarked. 
 
 "It's very easy. There's nothing to it," Charlie 
 replied. " It's mostly a matter of instinct, and a good 
 deal guess work, with just a few established signs for 
 the most common things. I was asking them about 
 the lower branch of the Assiniboin ; whether it was 
 high, and if there was a ford anywhere where we 
 should not wet the outfit. They said there was a 
 Blackfoot camp just this side of the river; that we 
 ought to reach it to-morrow night, and that near the 
 camp there is a trail leading to the best ford for sev- 
 eral miles. It was easy enough to make that out ; but 
 I don't believe that even the spoken language of any 
 Indian tribe is very clear. They use the signs almost 
 as much when they are talking among their own tribe, 
 as when they are talking with others who have a dif-
 
 OVER THE PRAIRIE. 135 
 
 forent language. I have often heard it said of the 
 Arapahoe Indians, for instance, that they cannot make 
 one another understand with any certainty in the dark. 
 Their name is ' Good Hearts,' and their sign is touch- 
 ing the left breast. The Cheyennes are ' Cut Arms,' 
 and their sign is this : drawing one hand across the 
 other wrist. The Sioux are Cut Throats. Their sign 
 you can imagine. They and the Blackfeet are the 
 same, practically, and they are the worst set of red- 
 skinned devils anywhere in these parts." 
 
 " What are some of the other signs ? " Oscar asked. 
 
 " Why, just as near the thing you mean as you can 
 get. A tent, for instance, is like this : shutting all 
 but the forefingers of each hand, and touching the 
 tips of them, so. See ? It is supposed, at least, to 
 look like a tent. Then a lot of tents is made by open- 
 ing all the fingers and just touching the tips together. 
 A man on a horse is two fingers of one hand aj.ride 
 the other hand. Crossing the fingers at right angles 
 means to swap or trade. Bring your hands together, 
 this way, and cross them in front of you, with the 
 palms toward your body, and you mean night. Just 
 reverse the motion, and stop with the hands stretched 
 out and the palms up, and you mean day. Point 
 upward, and make a circle in the air, and you mean 
 anything pertaining to Heaven. See? It's very 
 simple." 
 
 " I should think there would have to be a good deal
 
 136 OVER THE PRAIRIE. 
 
 more to it than that, in order to carry on a conversa- 
 tion," Oscar observed, but Charlie shook his head. 
 
 " It's just like selecting your outfit. If you've got 
 a schooner along, you can fill it with what you need, 
 but if you've only your pack horse, you can take all 
 that you can't get on without. Take anything that 
 you have ever got to say to an Indian, and signs are 
 quite sufficient ; but if you undertook to enlighten him 
 about something he had never seen or heard of, and if 
 you spoke his language like a native, to boot, you 
 couldn't do it. We had a great time with the fellows 
 one spring. We had taken a lot of skins, among us, 
 at the ranch, during the winter, and thought we'd add 
 a few more and make it an object to ship them ; so we 
 rounded up a bunch of Indians on the way to the 
 trading-post, with furs, and began a trade. We 
 agreed to give them so much a pound for their skins, 
 and charge so much a pound for tea, blankets, ammu- 
 nition and tobacco. Well, we weighed their skins, 
 and then as they picked out what they wanted, we 
 weighed that. Pretty soon we found they were get- 
 ting ugly, and come to find out, they thought we were 
 cheating them. We explained the scales, and the way 
 to come at the amounts and values, over and over 
 again, but we couldn't get the first idea of it into their 
 heads. At last we gave up in despair, and told them 
 to take their skins and go ; but that didn't please them, 
 either. Then we asked them what in the world they
 
 OVER THE PRAIRIE. 137 
 
 did want, and lo and behold ! they wanted us to put 
 the skins in one side of the scales, and what they had 
 bought all in a lump in the other side. You had bet- 
 ter believe we were quick to accommodate them, and it 
 only took about half of what we had laid out for them, 
 to weigh down the skins. Some of the fellows were 
 for making them take the stuff that way, after they 
 had insisted on it, but we finally gave them the whole, 
 and let them go ; and over in the village, the next day, 
 one of the boys heard them boasting to some of the 
 Indians there, about how they had cheated us and got 
 almost twice as much as they paid for." 
 
 " You wouldn't think that Indians were such stupid 
 things," Oscar remarked ; and Charlie replied, quickly : 
 
 " I don't think it was stupidity at all ! That's just 
 what I mean. I think it was simply because they had 
 no words or signs that gave a chance to explain a 
 thing so entirely out of their sphere as a set of scales. 
 And I think that accounts for more than half the 
 trouble which the United States Government has with 
 the Indians. They have a treaty and reservation 
 scheme explained to them, with a lot of conditions and 
 quirks that nobody fully understands, and they say 
 yes, and agree, and every one supposes it's all right, 
 till they find that the Indians haven't the least idea of 
 abiding by the arrangement, and then there's a howl 
 against the Indians, and a fight, and all that, when, in 
 reality, I don't believe the fellows ever really had any
 
 138 OVER THE PRAIRIE. 
 
 more idea of the matter than they had of our scales. 
 I don't believe they are treated fairly ; but it's not 
 that I think there is an honest Indian in the whole 
 bunch of 'um, for I don't." 
 
 A moment later, Charlie continued : " The system 
 of signs goes a good deal farther than this hand busi- 
 ness. There is a rather elaborate system of signals 
 by smoke from a hot fire covered with grass. They 
 take a big blanket and hold it over the fire, shutting 
 in the smoke, and letting it out in bunches to indicate 
 what they want to say to people miles away. They 
 use their ponies, too, and arrows and blankets, and 
 all sorts of things in telegraphing messages. By the 
 way, the system of signals by flash-lights and reflec- 
 tions which the British army has recently adopted, 
 was caught from the Indians. In a battle, if a chief 
 can get up on a hill where his warriors can see him, 
 with the sun in the right direction, and where he can 
 see the enemy, he will give his commands from there 
 more successfully than if he was on the spot. He has 
 something like a small mirror which he holds in his 
 hand, and sends a series of flashes in a way to indicate 
 what he wants." 
 
 " Do they really use poisoned arrows in fighting ? " 
 Oscar asked. 
 
 " Why, yes ; sometimes I reckon they do. But I 
 don't believe they do so often as in stories. They 
 have a way of pinning down a rattlesnake, and teas-
 
 OVER THE PRAIRIE. 139 
 
 ing him with a piece of liver till he bites it, and fills 
 it with poison, and then they make a mush of it to 
 daub on their arrows, sometimes." 
 
 "I wonder whatever started them in that horrible 
 trick of scalping and mutilating," Oscar said with a 
 shudder, as he thought of the days and the miles that 
 lay before him through the Indian country. 
 
 " I believe it was their theory of the hereafter that 
 a man who is scalped never comes to light again in 
 the other world. When an Indian has killed a man, 
 his theories of the happy hunting ground are such 
 that he would rather not meet him there ; so he scalps 
 him. He is precious sure to scalp a pale face at every 
 opportunity, on the same principle ; and as for cutting 
 him in pieces, I suppose it is only because he is con- 
 stitutionally so mad with the pale face that he can't 
 help it. I believe they are very apt, too, to leave the 
 mark of their tribe on a victim ; cutting out the heart 
 for an Arapahoe mark, cutting the wrists for a Chey- 
 enne, and cutting the throat for a Sioux, and so on. 
 Ugh! How I hate them !" 
 
 " That's why they are so careful to carry off their 
 dead, isn't it? " Oscar asked. 
 
 "I suppose so. At any rate, they do whenever they 
 have a chance, and they are very skillful at it, too. 
 If there is one thing that an Indian can do to perfec- 
 tion, it is ride a horse. I have seen two of them go at 
 full speed for a dead Indian, lean from their horses,
 
 140 OVER THE PRAIRIE. 
 
 each grab an arm, and, with one swing, land the body 
 across the saddle, in front of one of them, without 
 slacking up an atom. I wish they were all in Texas, if 
 I ain to live in Manitoba." 
 
 " I don't feel so hard toward them as you do ; per- 
 haps because I have not seen enough of them ; one 
 family, at least, was very loyal and true to my father, 
 and I shall never forget that," Oscar said earnestly, 
 " and I don't know of anything that to me is half so 
 interesting to hear about and read about. But it's 
 a fact, they are a big disappointment, in reality ; all 
 that I ever came across, at least." 
 
 With unusual energy, Charlie replied : " Right you 
 are ! They're a greasy, dirty, treacherous set, wher- 
 ever you find them. If the Government only un- 
 derstood them, and could make them understand, and 
 would treat them honestly and fairly, on that basis, 
 they would be a great deal better than they are ; and 
 I don't believe in shooting a man at sight, anyway, 
 just because he's an Indian. But I do believe that if 
 you don't, and he ever gets a chance, he will shoot you 
 just because you are a pale face. And you have got 
 to treat him accordingly, or get left." 
 
 " He certainly has some excuse," Oscar remarked. 
 
 " Indeed he has," said Charlie. " When you are 
 out of Indian country, and stop to think, you wonder 
 that he ever lays down his rifle and tomahawk long 
 enough to eat or sleep. But the fact is, he has abused
 
 OVER THE PRAIRIE. 141 
 
 his excuse till there isn't enough of it left to swear by. 
 He has some of the best qualities that were ever stored 
 in human hide. Indian children mind as well as your 
 dog. You never hear a pappoose yell. I don't believe 
 that a murder or a theft in one's own tribe was ever 
 heard of, unless it was after they had been turned 
 into a set of drunken louts upon a reservation. The 
 squaws are what we call abused ; but it's more custom 
 than cruelty. They expect it as much as other women 
 expect the civilities to which they are accustomed. 
 Three or four generations are often huddled into one 
 tepee, and there's not a set in the civilized world that 
 could stand it ; but you never heard of a family 
 quarrel or a fight of any kind, inside the tribe. They 
 are quicker than lightning, and shrewder and sharper 
 on the war path than cats after mice. They are brave, 
 too, and they will fight like your crane, even after 
 they are dying. Why, if they had the white man's 
 possibilities, I believe they could drive us out of the 
 country, even now. But just look at them. A full 
 stomach is the only thing they care for, except fire- 
 water. They are lazy, and dirty as hogs. They will 
 lie and cheat when you'd think it to their immediate 
 advantage, and more convenient, to be honest. A wolf 
 isn't more cold blooded. A fox isn't half so treacher- 
 ous. I pity them, I admire them, I despise them, 
 and I am mortally afraid of them. 1 wish I might 
 never see another Indian as long as I live."
 
 142 OVER THE PRAIRIE. 
 
 " It's a very funny thing," Oscar observed. " I've 
 noticed it everywhere. The best sailors always seem 
 to be the most afraid of storms. The best scholars in 
 my class were the most afraid of examinations. Our 
 bronco buster on the farm told me that he would 
 about as soon have a finger cut off as break an ugly 
 colt ; for he was sure, every time, that he should come 
 out of it with his own neck broken, instead, and wished 
 he might never see a horse or a saddle again ; yet that 
 very day we watched him break the wildest colt I ever 
 set eyes on. He saddled him with a pully line, while 
 another fellow held him by a long lip-rope, pulling on 
 it with all his might. It took a half-hour to get the 
 bridle on. Then he mounted, and put a silver half- 
 dollar under each foot. The fellow cut the lip-rope, for 
 he could not get near enough to slip it. The colt 
 lunged, reared, plunged, squealed, kicked did every- 
 thing he could think of ; and between whiles, while 
 he was thinking of something new, went tearing like 
 mad round the corral. Twice he stumbled and went 
 almost down. Once he jumped clean over the corral 
 fence. Well, when he was completely tuckered, and 
 gave up, the buster rode him up and down, a little, 
 just as easy as you please, and then came up to where 
 father and I were standing, and there were the half- 
 dollars, still lying in his stirrups. Why, if I could ride 
 a horse as well as that, it seems as though I should be 
 crazy to bust a bronco every day of my life."
 
 OVER THE PRAIRIE. 143 
 
 " I reckon that's the very secret of it," Charlie re- 
 plied v " You can't. If you could, you'd find that it 
 wasn't so easy as it looks. You know Pope said, 
 ' For fools rush in where angels fear to tread ; ' and 
 wasn't it Longfellow who wrote, ' Only those who 
 brave the dangers comprehend the mysteries ? ' It's 
 only by handling Indians or colts that yon find out 
 what hot potatoes they are, and how carefully you've 
 got to touch them, or get burned." 
 
 " I never had much time for reading poetry," Oscar 
 remarked, diverted from his theme by the surprise at 
 finding such a thing hidden under the rough exterior 
 of his cowboy friend. " I like it, and it does one 
 good to read good poetry, and I mean to take up 
 a regular course of it, sometime ; but so far I have 
 always had to work too hard at my regular studies. I 
 should think that ranch life, especially in the winter, 
 would give one just glorious opportunities for such 
 things." 
 
 " Well, I suppose that if you really wanted to read, 
 you might work in a little now and then ; but I reckon 
 that the fellow who takes to ranching, is not one who 
 is overfond of books. There's plenty to do on a ranch, 
 now I tell you, and as a fact, beyond newspapers and 
 the Bible, I don't believe I have read a chapter a year 
 since I came West. I got most of my poetry when I 
 was studying English Literature, and when I left 
 college I left books pretty thoroughly."
 
 144 OVER THE PRAIRIE. 
 
 " College ! " Oscar looked up in blank astonish- 
 ment. 
 
 Mountain Charlie laughed and laughed, until the 
 tears rolled down his cheeks, and Panza looked up 
 with wistful eyes, as though she were wishing that she 
 could laugh like that. When he could speak, Charlie 
 gasped : " That's for all the world the way that you 
 looked at the crane. But it's a fact ! Just thirteen 
 years ago this summer, as green and proud a boy as 
 ever you saw, I stood up in Harvard College and re- 
 ceived my diploma and degree of Master of Arts. I 
 don't blame you for jumping, though, when you come 
 across the fact out on this prairie." 
 
 " That's hardly fair," Oscar replied, slowly, think- 
 ing out his way as he went. " When I first met you 
 at the ranch-house, the day I went down there with 
 father, I thought you as perfect as a picture. Why, 
 I could hardly even understand what you said, you 
 talked so funny ; and I was astonished when father 
 told me that you were at the head of that whole de- 
 partment of the estate. Then, on the way home he 
 told me about your bravery with the Indians, and I 
 made up my mind that that must be your strong point, 
 and that you must be a sort of a terror that had better 
 be kept away from. Ever since we went to the In- 
 dian camp after Black-dog, you've been so different 
 that I knew I was mistaken, some way, and I've been 
 wondering how. Now I know."
 
 OVER THE PRAIRIE. 145 
 
 Mountain Charlie laughed again till the broad 
 prairie resounded, and Panza went so far as to bark, 
 in a struggle to join him, though she had to drop the 
 lead rope to do it. 
 
 " It's all in where you are and what you're doing," 
 he said, at last. " If you're in Rome be a Koman, or 
 get out. It's just as instinctive to be a cowboy, on a 
 ranch, as it is to use signs with an Indian. There's 
 just one lingo that fits a cowboy. Some of his words 
 you couldn't use anywhere else if you tried, any more 
 than you could find other words to take their place 
 with him. The miner has his own lingo, just the 
 same, and every man, coming from North or South, 
 drops into it as easily as he does into appropriate 
 boots and hat." 
 
 Oscar found the long days in'the saddle materially 
 shortened by such conversations, aside from the amount 
 of information he received upon points that were to be 
 of living interest if he ever entered upon the life 
 which all his dreams had painted for him. 
 
 Before sunset on the day when they passed the 
 Indians, they came upon a cowboy's dugout, in the side 
 of a low range of hills, where Charlie thought they 
 had better spend the night. It was only a hole dug 
 into the hillside, with a log front in which was an 
 opening for a door. Above it rose an old powder keg 
 for a chimney. 
 
 " It hasn't been used since last summer," Charlie
 
 146 OVER THE PRAIRIE. 
 
 remarked, " and it isn't particularly inviting ; but if 
 those clouds should turn out rain we might be very 
 glad of the shelter." 
 
 " Why not stay outside, unless it does rain ? " 
 Oscar asked. 
 
 " That's all right," Charlie replied ; " and it's a pity 
 for either of us to keep awake. We might tether the 
 horses pretty close in, and with nobody round to mix 
 her up, I reckon Panza would let us know in time." 
 
 They placed most of the outfit in the hut, built a 
 fire, and hung their kettles upon a cross-stick. Oscar 
 was rapidly learning the ranger's art of cooking, as 
 well as many other of his arts ; but hardly an hour 
 passed that he did not thank good Fortune that 
 Charlie was with him ; for the more he learned, the 
 more he realized how much he did not know. After 
 such a supper as only a ranger could either prepare 
 or appreciate, he spread his rubber blanket, took off 
 his boots, and rolled himself in his wool blanket as 
 scientifically as any cowboy, and with his feet to the 
 fire, and his saddle for a pillow, he stretched himself 
 as contentedly for a night's sleep as though he were in 
 his little room, with solid stone walls, and a deep-set 
 window and comfortable bed, upon the banks of the 
 Thames. 
 
 Charlie piled up the fire with what he could find 
 that would be apt to " hang on," left a little pile of 
 dry sticks beside it for cooking breakfast, tethered the
 
 OVER THE PRAIRIE. 147 
 
 horses less than twenty feet away, and lay down on 
 the opposite side of the fire. By way of good-night, 
 he said : 
 
 " Don't forget that if you grow chilly toward morn- 
 ing, it will make a pile of difference if you pull your 
 blanket up over your face." 
 
 The moon was just above the foot-hills, ready to 
 set, behind them, when Oscar woke. He was quite 
 cold and stiff, but looking at his watch he found it 
 was after four, and, instead of trying Charlie's experi- 
 ment, which he afterward found to be a very valuable 
 hint, he thought he would quietly get up and try his 
 hand at getting breakfast all alone. 
 
 As soon as the fire was burning well, he cut the last 
 of the meat from a venison joint, and threw the bone 
 to Panza to keep her quiet, put on some beans and 
 coffee, rolled up his blankets, set the horses out to get 
 their breakfast, and knelt before the fire, with a knife 
 in one hand and frying-pan in the other, to prepare 
 the deer steaks. 
 
 Suddenly Panza dropped her bone and sprang to 
 her feet with a low growl. With the frying-pan and 
 knife in hand, Oscar started up. He was sure that 
 Charlie was sound asleep a moment before, yet as he 
 gained his feet, he saw that he had already thrown off 
 his blanket ; he heard the click of a hammer, and, 
 glistening in the moonlight, saw his big six-shooter all 
 loady for action. For a moment he forgot the possi-
 
 148 OVER THE PRAIRIE. 
 
 bility of danger, and realizing his own position, in 
 contrast, was ready to burst out laughing at the ludi- 
 crous figure he must present to an approaching enemy, 
 when Panza, dropping her fierceness, calmly trotted 
 out into the darkness, turning to the right, along a 
 line of shrubbery growing at the base of the hill. 
 
 "That's rather odd," Charlie muttered, as he lay 
 looking after her. 
 
 " It's the oddest thing I ever saw," Oscar replied, 
 decidedly, and laying down the knife and frying-pan, 
 he picked up his rifle. 
 
 " Go easy, now," Charlie warned him as he passed, 
 and cautiously crept out of their sheltered corner, 
 keeping close under the bushes. 
 
 The three horses were quietly feeding within a 
 hundred feet. It was growing darker as the moon 
 went down, but "he could easily distinguish their outlines 
 and see that nothing else was near. One of them, not 
 satisfied with his night's rest, had lain down again, 
 and was eating in that position, which would certainly 
 be impossible if he had been startled, and Pauza 
 surely was not with them. 
 
 He crept on a little farther, and was on the point of 
 whistling for Panza, in the fear that by some mysteri- 
 ous means she might have been enticed away to be 
 killed, when he saw, not far before him, the form of 
 an Indian pony, as white as snow. 
 
 He dropped upon one knee, with his rifle at his
 
 OVEE THE PRAIRIE. 149 
 
 shoulder. The pouy stood close to the line of bushes ; 
 but closer yet, in the dark shadows, he was sure that 
 he saw something move. He was afraid to fire at 
 random, and he did not dare to speak, but with his 
 rifle ready, he watched intently, till his eyes became 
 better used to the shadows, and he distinguished Pan- 
 za's form, with her back toward him. Yes ; and the 
 movement that he saw was nothing else than Panza's 
 tail, contentedly wagging. 
 
 What could it mean? A moment later he distin- 
 guished another outline, beyond. Some one was bend- 
 ing over Panza. He was completely puzzled, and, as 
 if to bewilder him yet more, the figure stood erect, 
 with one leap landed on the pony's back, bent for- 
 ward to give Panza a parting caress, and was away like 
 the wind, into the darkness beyond, leaving on Oscar's 
 mind nothing but the certainty that it was an Indian. 
 
 " What do you think of that?" a voice asked, and 
 turning quickly, Oscar discovered that Charlie was 
 close beside him. 
 
 " I'm sure I don't know," he replied, as Panza came 
 slowly trotting up to them, evidently unharmed, and 
 quite unconscious that she had done anything at all 
 surprising. " A week ago I would not have believed 
 that any one could have come near enough to Sancho 
 to mount him, or near enough to Panza to touch her ; 
 least of all an Indian. I wonder what he was doing 
 to Panza?"
 
 150 
 
 OVER THE PRAIRIE. 
 
 " Stealing her collar, perhaps," Charlie suggested, 
 with a low laugh. 
 
 "No. Hold on! But what's this?" Oscar ex- 
 claiined, as he felt for Panza's collar, and his hand 
 
 IT WAS AN INDIAN. 
 
 came in contact with something that was fastened to it. 
 
 u It's a piece of bark, with something written on it," 
 
 Charlie replied, holding it up in the fading moonlight. 
 
 " I reckon we'd better pull the horses in, to have them
 
 OVER THE PRAIRIE. 151 
 
 ready, and then see what it is. It's a warning of 
 some sort." 
 
 There was an air of mystery about it which, in that 
 darkest hour before dawn, and in their uncertain sur- 
 roundings, made Oscar move nervously as he hurried 
 to act upon the suggestion. He did not feel so sure 
 of Panza either, as he thought, and wondered if there 
 were not other Indians lying about in the bushes, 
 ready to spring upon them ? He began to realize 
 what a comfortable thing it is to have a companion at 
 such a time. 
 
 When everything was within touch about the fire, 
 Charlie knelt down to secure the best light from the 
 blaze, and examined the warning. It proved to be a 
 strip of shaving instead of bark, and with a charred 
 stick some one had written upon it : " Blackfoot 
 tepees by river, heap bad place. Pale face no stop, 
 no eat, no sleep. Blackfoot steal horse, steal all. 
 One mile more good place cross river. Six mile more 
 heap pale face tepee. Heap good pale face. Pale 
 face go there sleep, eat." 
 
 Oscar had learned enough of the uncertainties of 
 signs like this upon the plains to refrain from forming 
 any opinion, and quietly waited for Charlie to speak. 
 He sat by the fire in silence, for some minutes, turn- 
 ing the shaving over and over, reading it again, and 
 investigating in several ways which Oscar could not 
 understand. Suddenly he looked up and asked :
 
 152 OVER THE PRAIRIE. 
 
 " Have you any particular friend among the In- 
 dians some one for whom you have done a great 
 favor?" 
 
 Oscar only laughed at the idea, and replied that he 
 had not been in Manitoba long enough even to know 
 a dozen Indians by sight, much less to do a single act of 
 kindness, large or small, to any one. 
 
 He was a little disappointed when Charlie simply 
 remarked : 
 
 " Well, let's have breakfast over, and get packed 
 up and ready to start as quickly as we can. I am 
 losing my appetite." 
 
 He hardly spoke another word till all was ready for 
 the start, but obviously kept the sharpest lookout in 
 every direction, with one eye constantly on Panza, and 
 his rifle always close at hand.
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 OSCAR HAS A PERSONAL EXPERIENCE. 
 
 THEY stood by their horses ready to mount. 
 Charlie looked anxiously along the low line of hills, 
 then at the eastern sky that was beginning to brighten. 
 
 " I don't like to run along beside those hills in the 
 dark," he muttered; "but it's high time we were on 
 the way if we must make that extra seven miles and a 
 ford before night." 
 
 " Do you take much stock in that message ? " Oscar 
 asked, at last. 
 
 " Why, yes ; in a way I do," Charlie answered, 
 deliberately. " There's certainly some Indian aroiuid 
 who knows quite as much about our business as we do, 
 and that alone is disagreeable and dangerous. The 
 Indians all hate me as much as I hate them, and 
 there's no danger of it's being any one laying himself 
 out on rny account. If you had some frantic friend 
 in a red skin, that would make all as clear as day. I 
 rather think it is connected with you, any way, and 
 
 153
 
 154 OSCAR HAS A PERSONAL EXPERIENCE. 
 
 that it is the same fellow who brought you your horse. 
 You may have done something for him and forgotten 
 it. But I may be mistaken, and that's where the 
 trouble comes in. That Blackfoot camp that those 
 Sioux told us about yesterday, ought to be just a 
 good day from here. I was planning to stop there^ 
 to-night, for it is much safer to sleep in an Indian 
 camp than anywhere in the neighborhood of it. There 
 are precious few Indians who can write in English, 
 and those who can are usually the biggest scamps in 
 the bunch. This may be a Chippewa, who is death 
 on a Blackfoot, first, last and always, or maybe there's 
 an opposition bunch across the river that would like to 
 get us over there after dark. The white settlement he 
 speaks of, across the river, is Mennonite, and they are 
 good people, any way. The country from the river on 
 is as flat as a pancake, and if we can cover it by day- 
 light, we're all right. I don't see how a Chip or any 
 other 'stranger could make so free with Panza, though. 
 She seemed to recognize him at sight, and I rather 
 think you'll find it's a friendly Indian who has met 
 her before. But come on. We'll know by night if 
 he spoke the truth. Keep your eyes peeled, and we'll 
 keep up a pretty good pace till we leave the hills." 
 
 If there were Indians about they made no demon- 
 stration. The sun came up and the trail led away 
 from the hills, and over the broad plain toward the 
 river, but they still kept on at a slow canter till nearly
 
 OSCAR HAS A PERSONAL EXPERIENCE. 155 
 
 ten o'clock, when they stopped for half an hour to let 
 the horses rest and feed. Far as the eye could reach, 
 not a living thing was in sight. Away behind them 
 the hills they had left were only a low, irregular ridge 
 upon the horizon, and farther away in the opposite 
 direction a dark shadow indicated the line of trees 
 bordering the river. 
 
 At noon they stopped for dinner where the trails 
 divided into three. 
 
 " I wish some one would show up to tell us which of 
 these to take to strike the ford," Charlie remarked as 
 he sat eating and studying the three. " I believe we 
 had better keep the middle one, but I'll bet my boots 
 it goes past the Blackfoot camp." 
 
 " What's the harm if it does ? " Oscar asked. 
 
 " There's no harm, only that I am so constituted 
 that the sight of an Indian takes away my appetite," 
 Charlie said, with a laugh. 
 
 He was right in his conjecture, for by the middle of 
 the afternoon they found themselves passing within a 
 quarter of a mile of the Blackfoot encampment. 
 
 " I call this pretty good going," Charlie remarked 
 with satisfaction. " Now the ford can't be more than 
 a mile away, and if we can strike it first shot, without 
 wasting time running up and down the river, we're 
 solid." 
 
 " I wonder if these fellows wouldn't tell us straight 
 if we rode over and asked them ? " Oscar suggested.
 
 156 OSCAR HAS A PERSONAL EXPERIENCE. 
 
 " They might, possibly, and even if they didn't, it 
 would do no great harm. I don't feel much like tak- 
 ing the pack horse out of the way, for he's pretty well 
 tuckered, now; but I could lead him while you and 
 Panza run over, and meet us again a half-mile below," 
 Charlie said. 
 
 He said it so carelessly that Oscar did not imagine 
 how carefully he had thought it out, fearing that the 
 outfit might tempt the Indians, and wishing to have 
 Oscar out of the way of any shots that might possibly 
 be fired while lie was taking it past the encampment. 
 If he had suspected such a thing it would have seemed 
 to him a curious place to send him for personal 
 safety, but as a rule the safest place about an Indian 
 encampment is right among the tepees. 
 
 They were following a trail made by the dragging 
 ends of tent poles fastened to the backs of Indian 
 ponies. It led directly toward the highlands that 
 fenced in the river, but that alone was no evidence 
 that it led to the ford. Leaving the two horses plod- 
 ding on, Oscar and Panza struck out for the camp, 
 with the parting admonition from Charlie, " Don't 
 fire unless you mean to kill, and then be sure you 
 do it." 
 
 They were not long in reaching the little cluster of 
 tepees. It was the most quiet spot imaginable. " It's 
 all humbug about these fellows here being dangerous," 
 Oscar said to himself. " Why, there are not a dozen
 
 OSCAR HAS A PERSONAL EXPERIENCE. 157 
 
 tents in all, and there's not a single soul in sight." 
 When he came a little nearer, however, the silence at 
 least was well broken by the barking of a small army 
 of dogs of all sorts, colors and sizes, the moment they 
 caught sight of Panza. They jumped up from the 
 grass where they had been sleeping, they came from 
 behind the tepees, they poked their way out under the 
 sides of the tents. 
 
 The tepees were most of them canvas, though there 
 were two or three of skin, with grotesque attempts at 
 outline drawings in bright colors, on the sides. Even 
 the barking of the dogs had but little effect. Here 
 and there a squaw appeared in the shadows, sitting on 
 the ground inside the tent, or a pappoose lifted his little 
 head, somewhere, while Panza, in sublime disgust at 
 the ovation she was receiving, showed a vicious row of 
 teeth, and walked on close behind Saneho's heels. A 
 half-dozen horses, without saddles or bridles, stood 
 nodding in the shadow of one of the tents, and one of 
 them whinnied to Sancho ; but receiving no response 
 apparently went to sleep again. a 
 
 Oscar began to suspect that this was about all the. 
 welcome he was to receive. He rode through the 
 camp without rinding anything but an occasional squaw, 
 and whether he spoke or not he received only a gut- 
 tural grunt or a muttered " How," by way of greeting. 
 Apparently they not only did not understand anything 
 more, but had no notion of trying to. He was about
 
 158 OSCAR HAS A PERSONAL EXPERIENCE. 
 
 to give up in despair and ride away, when a withered 
 old medicine man appeared in the door of one of the 
 tepees. 
 
 The medicine man is a chief of grave importance 
 and great influence in his tribe. His work of healing 
 is only a very slight part of his professional duties. 
 Unless he is called upon to administer to some trouble 
 that he thoroughly understands, where his golden-rod, 
 arnica, wet blankets, blisters or sweat-house, or some 
 of his innumerable combinations are an established 
 remedy, he goes to the patient with a drum and any- 
 thing else which will help to make a noise, and either 
 kills him outright, or frightens him into pretending, 
 at least, that he feels better. 
 
 An Indian's . constitution is very apt to aid such 
 theories and practice of medicine, by naturally mak- 
 ing a quick recovery or a sudden death, and in either 
 case the medicine man is held very little accountable. 
 Everything that is profound or mysterious in nature, 
 art or science, however, comes under the Indian term 
 of medicine, and the medicine man is the scientist, the 
 astrologer, the prophet and the priest of his tribe. If 
 they want more rain the medicine man must bring it. 
 If the floods rise he must stop them. Every brave 
 carries about with him his little medicine bag, which 
 contains, not a cure for anything, but a little ounce of 
 prevention for everything, and the medicine man must 
 prepare that.
 
 OSCAR HAS A PERSONAL EXPERIENCE. 161 
 
 In these ways, where there really ought not to be 
 any responsibility at all, the medicine man is held very 
 responsible. Many a poor medicine man has been tor- 
 tured, and even put to death by his tribe, for failing 
 to bring rain, when they only honored him for fright- 
 ening to death some sick man whose trouble he did 
 not happen to understand. The fellow who appeared 
 in the tent door to see what Oscar wanted had been 
 not only very shrewd, but fortunate to reach that 
 shriveled and withered age in such precarious service. 
 He greeted Oscar with a grave and dignified wave of 
 his hand, and spoke English well enough to make 
 himself easily understood by the aid of signs. 
 
 The old chief appeared to answer the questions put 
 to him to the best of his ability, and Oscar was sur- 
 prised to see how easily he could understand the signs, 
 and how natural it was to make them while trying to 
 put his questions in the simple and direct Indian form. 
 
 After thanking him for the information, Oscar rode 
 away in the opposite direction from which he came, 
 for, if the chief had told him correctly, Charlie was 
 upon the wrong side of the camp, and would reach the 
 river nearly a mile out of the way. Before he ac- 
 cepted the statement, however, it occurred to Oscar as 
 a good plan to ride out in that direction and judge a 
 little, if possible, for himself. 
 
 Following the medicine man's directions, he struck 
 for a low line of knolls which he said bordered the
 
 1G2 OSCAR HAS A PERSONAL EXPERIENCE. 
 
 river, and were not more than half a mile away. For 
 a time Panza seemed greatly relieved at being out of 
 the Indian village, but before long Oscar noticed that 
 she was again showing her teeth and savagely licking 
 her chops, while she bristled all over, and kept up a 
 low, deep grumble. He looked about for the cause, 
 but as they were gradually climbing the knoll he was 
 too eager to see what was beyond to think of looking 
 back, till, finally, Panza turned clear about and gave 
 a fierce and decided growl. 
 
 Then Oscar glanced over his shoulder, and a cold 
 shiver ran down his back as he discovered a half-dozen 
 mounted Indians dashing toward him from the village. 
 He could distinctly see the camp, too, and see that the 
 horses by the tent had disappeared. 
 
 It seemed cowardly to be afraid of them, so he 
 spoke to Panza, and went on, muttering: " So those 
 young bucks were hiding in the tents all the time I 
 was there. I wonder what they are after now ? " 
 
 A moment later he looked back again. They were 
 nearer and less careful. He could easily hear the 
 sound of their horses' hoofs on the soft turf. 
 
 " I could outrun them, fast enough," he muttered, 
 looking ahead, " but I don't know where I should 
 fetch up." 
 
 He looked off to the left. Charlie was a mile or 
 more away in that direction ; but to reach him would 
 be to give the Indians the benefit of a short cut to
 
 OSCAR HAS A PERSONAL EXPERIENCE. 103 
 
 overtake him, " as well as a broad side to sight on if 
 they meant business," he added, without carefully con- 
 sidering the mathematical facts of the case. Then he 
 remembered that he had not yet accomplished what he 
 started for, and to give up anything was so much 
 against the theories and practices of his life, that he 
 was on the point of starting again, when the Indians 
 saw that he was watching, and with a wild whoop they 
 started forward at a quicker pace, swinging their guns 
 in the air and shouting to their horses. 
 
 Panza drew her tail between her legs and skulked 
 back into the grass. Sancho threw up his head, laid 
 back his ears, and seemed ready to break and run. 
 Oscar felt it, too, for if there is anything that can 
 always make the blood of man and beast run cold, it 
 is an Indian yell. Even in the excitement of the 
 moment, Oscar thought of what Charlie had said about 
 walking ten miles and sleeping in a snowbank rather 
 than hear that whoop. He had thought it almost 
 silly at the time, but he suddenly realized what it 
 meant. 
 
 There was only one thing of which Oscar felt sure : 
 after being so thoroughly frightened by that yell, he 
 did not propose to close the scene by running away. 
 To convince the Indians of this, he deliberately turned 
 Sancho half -about, and sat looking at them as they 
 came on. 
 
 He had not waited long before a shot was fired, and
 
 164 
 
 OSCAR HAS A PERSONAL EXPERIENCE. 
 
 the next instant his rein parted, cut by the bullet, 
 half-way between the bit and Saneho's throat. 
 
 Oscar bent forward to be sure that Sancho had 
 escaped, then, quick as thought, he slipped from the 
 saddle, and making it a rest for his rifle, stood with a 
 bead drawn on the foremost of the band. He remem- 
 
 "THAT WILL DO." 
 
 bered Charlie's warning. He aimed to kill, and did 
 not propose to fire until he had to. 
 
 The effect was like magic. The Indians stopped 
 short, and scattered in every direction, like a flock of 
 ducks that had been fired into. Suddenly each rider 
 disappeared behind his horse, and nothing was to be
 
 OSCAR HAS A PERSONAL EXPERIENCE. 165 
 
 seen of them but feet clinging to the saddles and 
 heads peeping under the horses' necks. 
 
 If they had been in the forest they would at once 
 have dodged behind the trees, and running from one 
 to another have made a circle about him, gradually 
 closing in till they succeeded in shooting him. If it 
 had been upon the open plain, they would have sepa- 
 rated and, at a distance from one another, have ridden 
 round and round him, firing at every opportunity, 
 clinging to the horse's neck and back, and hiding be- 
 hind his body whenever there was danger that Oscar 
 might return the shot. Unfortunately for their tac- 
 tics, however, it was not in the forest or on the open 
 plain. Wholly unintentionally Oscar had chosen the 
 best position possible, almost at the summit of the knoll. 
 
 Constantly moving about, to prevent his obtaining 
 a good aim at any of them, the Indians held a council 
 for a moment ; then the leader, appearing above his 
 horse, threw his rifle on the ground, waved his blanket 
 over his head, and the rest of the Indians appeared. 
 Holding up his empty hands the leader shouted : 
 
 " Indian no mean shoot. Heap bad gun shoot self. 
 Me good Indian. Heap good friend. Come say 
 ' How,' pale face." 
 
 " You can say ' How ' where you are," Oscar called. 
 " I don't want you here, and I'll kill the first Indian 
 who comes a foot nearer." 
 
 " No kill ! Pale face no kill good friend," replied
 
 166 OSCAR HAS A PERSONAL EXPERIENCE. 
 
 the Indian ; but he did not come any nearer. " Me 
 come show pale face right trail over big water." 
 
 " That will do," Oscar retorted. " I am not hunt- 
 ing trails this minute ; I am hunting Indians, and 
 you go back to your tepees or I'll have you. Now ! 
 One ! Two ! " - 
 
 That was all. With a wild yell, a parting shot 
 which did no harm, and a volley of curses in English, 
 they rode away. 
 
 It had all happened so quickly that Oscar had acted 
 with very little time for thought or discretion ; but to 
 say that he was not well frightened would be to say 
 that he was not a sensible boy of sixteen. He was in 
 his saddle in an instant, with a hasty knot tied in the 
 broken rein, and he let Sancho move as quickly as 
 was in any way convenient. He was determined, how- 
 ever, to see over the top of the knoll, and he went 
 first in that direction, keeping a sharp lookout on the 
 Indians behind him. 
 
 They did not attempt to return again, and when he 
 reached a point where he could overlook the valley 
 beyond, he was hardly surprised to find that he was 
 even farther from the river than he had been at the 
 village. The path which Charlie was following was 
 too far to the right if anything, and turning to the 
 left he rode rapidly along the brow of the high land 
 till he caught sight of his friend. 
 
 " The old sinner ! " Oscar exclaimed, as he told
 
 OSCAR HAS A PERSONAL EXPERIENCE. 167 
 
 Charlie of his adventure. " He sent me out there 
 just to get me into a trap." 
 
 " That's only saying that he was an Indian," Charlie 
 remarked a little scornfully. " But they were too 
 smart for themselves, that time. They thought that 
 by separating us they could skin us both easier than 
 if we were together, but when half went your way and 
 half came mine, they didn't have men enough to skin 
 either of us. Don't forget the lesson, though, and 
 don't ever let a red skin send you off on a wild-goose 
 chase again. If I'd dreamed of your going on such a 
 jaunt I'd never have thought of your starting at all." 
 
 " Do you really think there was any actual danger ? " 
 Oscar asked. 
 
 " Of course there was. Very decided danger. You 
 never can tell what those young bucks will do when 
 they start out for a summer's stealing. They are all 
 very well on the reservations if you keep your eyes 
 open or have company, for they are not going to do 
 anything that will get them into trouble with the Gov- 
 ernment if they can help it ; but what witnesses would 
 there have been against them if they had killed you ? 
 Probably all they really cared for was your horse and 
 outfit, but, mind you, so far as conscience is concerned 
 they would just as soon kill you as you would kill a 
 fly that bothered you. That's the difficulty." 
 
 "What would they have done if I had let them 
 come up with me ? " Oscar asked.
 
 168 OSCAR HAS A PERSONAL EXPERIENCE. 
 
 " Why, just whatever they pleased," Charlie replied, 
 with a laugh, though his face was very earnest. " If 
 they can't use a thing they can swap it at an agency 
 for something else. Horses and rifles and cartridge 
 belts come in very handy to an Indian, and you will 
 never find a red skin refusing to help himself to any- 
 thing that is within reach, whether it is any good to 
 him or not." 
 
 " I don't wonder that our people are down on the 
 Indians," Oscar remarked, with the fresh prejudice 
 gathered in his bit of personal experience. 
 
 "Well, I don't wonder that they are down on the 
 pale face, either," Charlie responded. " If I were 
 an Indian I'd scalp every pale face I met ; and 
 being a pale face I'd like to see every red skin 
 blown to blazes. It's a pity, but it's human nature, 
 I reckon." 
 
 Oscar was still thinking over the matter when they 
 reached the river. 
 
 " Here's luck ! " Charlie cried, as they found a 
 large boat with three sturdy fellows ready to push off, 
 and easily secured transportation for themselves and 
 the pack saddle. 
 
 " I don't suppose it's much over knee-deep along 
 the bar," Charlie remarked to Oscar as they seated 
 themselves in the boat, " and we'll have to do a good 
 deal taller fording, without any help, before we get 
 through; but a horse is very apt to stumble in the
 
 OSCAR HAS A PERSONAL EXPERIENCE. 169 
 
 water, and just at this season it is precious cold and 
 wet." 
 
 Panza was given the lead line of the pack horse, as 
 usual, and Oscar and Charlie sat in the stern to lead 
 their horses. 
 
 " She'll have to swim," one of the men remarked, 
 nodding his head toward Panza, as they pushed slowly 
 out. "Ye ain't afeared she'll git drownded havin' 
 ter keep her mouth open ? " 
 
 Oscar had not thought of that, nor had Charlie, but 
 before they could decide what to do Panza, who still 
 stood on the shore, studying the situation and waiting 
 for the other two horses to get into the water, gave 
 one bound and landed on Sancho's haunches, with her 
 fore feet on the saddle, as she had so often ridden 
 from the stable. There she sat, high and dry out of 
 the water, till they landed safely on the other side. 
 
 " That dog knows more than a dozen men," Charlie 
 exclaimed enthusiastically. 
 
 " Leastwise she knowed mor'n ter git drownded 
 towin' a horse that was walkin'," the fellows replied, 
 with a laugh. 
 
 As they were about to start again one of the men 
 remarked : 
 
 " Yer a heap safer this side the river than t'other. 
 Thar's a squad o' Blackfoot Injuns campin' up the 
 trail, thet's come over frum the States ter see what 
 they kin scoop in through the summer. They've done
 
 170 
 
 OSCAR HAS A PERSONAL EXPERIENCE. 
 
 considerable killin' as well as stealin', an' d'rectly 
 they'll git the sogers arter 'um in- good shape. Ef 
 ye'd 'a' come in sight on 'um they'd 'a' helped 'um- 
 selves to your kit, live or dead, bein' only two on ye. 
 Yer lucky crost the river." 
 
 Charlie did not seem inclined to speak of the at- 
 tempt they had made to help themselves, so Oscar 
 followed his example, and bidding the men good-by, 
 
 PANZA SETTLES THE QUESTION. 
 
 they started on with the sun still nearly an hour high 
 upon their right. 
 
 "Well," Charlie said, as they dropped into a walk 
 to rest the horses after a canter of a mile or more, 
 " the warning on that shaving was all right. It was 
 either a Chippewa or some good friend of yours. If 
 it was a friend we shall very likely hear from him 
 again, and if we do we can probably believe him in 
 advance." 
 
 Oscar, who was bent upon gathering all the points
 
 OSCAR HAS A PERSONAL EXPERIENCE. 171 
 
 lie could upon any matter he did not understand, 
 asked, " What was the reason you did not tell those 
 men about the Blackfeet ? " 
 
 " Only general principles," Charlie replied. " In 
 the first place, it's never safe to tell a stranger in the 
 West all that you know about anything. Then every 
 frontiersman seems to have a mania for boasting of 
 his prowess with Indians, when nine out of ten of 
 them would run like a fox from the shadow of a chief's 
 king feather. If a stranger begins upon you that way 
 set him down as a liar, and expect every one else to 
 do the same by you. And chiefly, I rather suspect 
 that those men are officers in disguise, on the lookout 
 for people who will give evidence against those Indians 
 so that they can order them back over the border on to 
 Uncle Sam. We hadn't time to hang round here a 
 week to testify about what we are not sure of, and 
 besides, we're going right through the Blackfoot lands 
 in the States, and an Indian never forgets a grudge." 
 
 " I thought the fellows must belong to the settle- 
 ment we are headed for what did you call them ? " 
 
 " Mennonites ? O, no ! They were not Mennonites." 
 
 " It's a queer name. I wonder how they came by 
 it ? " Oscar said. 
 
 "I don't know much about them," Charlie replied, 
 " but I do know that they are mighty good people. I 
 stopped with a set of them a little way from here, 
 over one night, as I came up. They're a religious sect
 
 172 OSCAR HAS A PERSONAL EXPERIENCE. 
 
 at least they came by their name that way. Those 
 in Manitoba are a sort of cross between Russians and 
 Germans. A Roman Catholic priest named Menno, 
 was their Martin Luther. About four hundred years 
 ago he began preaching in North Germany and Hol- 
 land. There was a good deal that was Quakerish 
 about it, and he founded quite a church, that has kept 
 growing ever since ; but they won't go to war, and 
 they won't fight at home, which doesn't work well over 
 there. There were Mennonites among the first Dutch 
 settlers in New York, and I believe there are over 
 sixty thousand in the States to-day. These fellows 
 here are a later edition. They told me that some hun- 
 dred years ago their ancestors went from Germany to 
 Russia because the Tzar promised that if they paid 
 war taxes they should not be called upon to fight. 
 Well, the present Tzar took it back, and told them to 
 go into the army or get out ; so a lot of them went 
 to the States, and about seven thousand of them came 
 here. The Government gave them half a million 
 acres. Look ! There is the settlement."
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THROUGH THE WHEAT FIELDS OF DAKOTA. 
 
 OSCAR looked eagerly forward and discovered a 
 little cluster of cabins, far in the distance, hardly dis- 
 tinguishable from the gray hills and the brown grass. 
 They were all built upon the same plan, with low 
 thatches and holes in the center instead of chimneys, 
 on the principle of *the smoke hole in an Indian tepee. 
 They were of rough hewn boards, very strong and 
 substantial looking, with small square windows, and 
 were huddled together, in an irregular cluster, like a 
 settlement of tents. 
 
 Oscar had studied German in Oxford, but he found 
 that a hundred years in Russia had demoralized the 
 dialect of the good Mennonites. However, they re- 
 ceived a very warm welcome, and got on well enough 
 with what they could understand of one another. 
 
 It was very evident that they would have got 
 on and received the same hospitality if they could 
 not have exchanged a word, for the warm-hearted 
 
 173
 
 174 
 
 THROUGH THE WHEAT FIELDS. 
 
 " Quakerish " people knew what hospitality meant ; 
 but they were overjoyed to find a wanderer from the 
 plains who could talk with them, even if they did 
 have to try hard to understand him and make them- 
 selves understood. 
 
 The very first settler whom they met insisted that 
 they should stop with him, and at once led the way to 
 his isbar, as he called his cabin. He helped them uu- 
 
 OSCAR LOOKED EAGEliLY FORWARD. 
 
 saddle their horses and put them in a shed at one end 
 of the cabin, giving them such a supper of oats and 
 hay as they had not had since leaving the ranch. 
 Then he watered them and locked the door, putting 
 the key in his pocket with the remark that they had
 
 THROUGH THE WHEAT FIELDS. 175 
 
 been greatly troubled by Sioux of late. He said, 
 with a broad smile, that his own horse was only a 
 mule, and a poor one at that, so he left him in the 
 corral ; but thought that good horses should be kept 
 under lock and key to prevent tempting the red 
 men. 
 
 There was a broad, smooth stone for a step in front 
 of the cabin door, and inviting his guests to sit down 
 there he soon appeared with a bowl of milk and a 
 large slice of rye bread and cheese for each, " to en- 
 courage them till his wife had prepared their supper." 
 
 While they ate he sat beside them smoking a huge 
 Russian pipe, and asking all kinds of questions about 
 the world at large, as though having come from some- 
 where besides that little settlement they must know 
 just what was going on everywhere. 
 
 A wagon track was the village street, and the cabins 
 stood at irregular intervals on either side, while the 
 farms which the villagers had taken up in homestead 
 claims stretched out in every direction. Just opposite 
 was the sawmill and grist mill combined, and further 
 down stood a cabin larger than the rest, but in the 
 same shape, which was used as the schoolhouse and 
 church. The old man had only been over for a few 
 years, but he said that his only regret was that he did 
 not come before. He wore heavy homemade boots 
 reaching to his knees, and homespun trousers only 
 coming down to meet them, tied just below the knees ;
 
 176 THROUGH THE WHEAT FIELDS. 
 
 a dark shirt with a loose collar, a little jacket reach- 
 ing to his hips, and a curious skin skull-cap. 
 
 Four barefoot, rugged and solid little boys and 
 girls were working or playing about the house, and 
 often appeared around the corner for an instant or thrust 
 a frowzy head through the half-open door, to disappear 
 the moment that Oscar looked at them. They were 
 as much like the old man as the little cabins were 
 like the church, and Oscar tried to make their ac- 
 quaintance, but he could not even obtain a good look 
 at one of them till they went in to supper. 
 
 While they were on the steps two or three of the 
 neighbors came up, and stood leaning against the cabin 
 or sitting on the grass, as anxious as their host to 
 learn the news. The arrival of strangers in the 
 isolated settlements of the frontier is always a signal 
 for a general gathering, and as Oscar sat in their 
 midst he could not help comparing those strong, sturdy 
 fellows, brimful of honest good nature, with the Black- 
 foot camp, a few miles away, where they should have 
 been cooking their own supper, then, if it had not 
 been for the mysterious warning. 
 
 Indians was the great topic in which they were all 
 most interested. They said that since the spring 
 opened there had been no end of trouble with the 
 Blackfeet, over in the States. They had left their 
 reservation and literally covered the whole northern 
 part of Dakota, murdering and robbing not only
 
 THROUGH THE WHEAT FIELDS. 177 
 
 travelers, but settlers, and burning their homes. 
 There were several Mennonite settlements across the 
 border ; but of late attempts to communicate with 
 them had been entirely abandoned. They understood 
 that United States troops and a company of Pawnees 
 were after them ; but one old fellow remarked, " The 
 Indians are very hard to find, except when you don't 
 want them." 
 
 Several bands had already crossed the border to 
 escape pursuit, and they asked particularly about the 
 band that had encamped a few miles to the north. It 
 had passed the settlement a week before, taking several 
 horses and mules and a few head of cattle as toll. 
 
 " They went by in the afternoon," said their host. 
 " We gave them some food and tobacco, but they were 
 not satisfied with that, and in the night came back for 
 more. He heard them at it," he added, pointing to a 
 broad-shouldered Mennonite, " and going out with his 
 shot-gun he followed them till he was near enough to 
 shoot, and then he let both barrels go. They scattered 
 in every direction, and he got the horses and mules 
 and brought them back, all but three that they were 
 riding." 
 
 " If I had had any more powder and shot to load 
 again I would have followed on till I'd got the whole," 
 he muttered, with a vindictive nod that sent the ashes 
 tumbling from his pipe. 
 
 " Wouldn't that be fighting ? " Oscar asked before
 
 178 THROUGH THE WHEAT FIELDS. 
 
 he thought, remembering what Charlie had told him 
 about the Mennonites. 
 
 With a curious, rippling wink, that spread over his 
 whole face, their host replied, " Oh ! he's a Buttouer ;" 
 at that they all laughed. 
 
 The wife came to the door to announce that supper 
 was ready, and as it was growing dark the neighbors 
 went away, giving Oscar an opportunity to ask, " What 
 is a Buttoner? " 
 
 He did not fully understand the reply, but made 
 out that some of the Mennonites had grown more 
 strict and Quakerish than Menno himself, and some 
 of them less so as time went on, till the final separa- 
 tion came when buttons were invented to take the 
 place of hooks and eyes for fastening the clothing. 
 The strict ones held that buttons we^re an introduction 
 of the evil spirit, and would have none of them. They 
 were called Hookers. The others were called But- 
 toners. By degrees it came to be a name applied to 
 any Mennonite who fell away a little from any of the 
 dictates of Menno. 
 
 The room they entered comprised the entire interior 
 of the cabin. It was very much upon the plan of the 
 squaws' cabin, only that the logs had been split into 
 rough boards, and instead of a chimney there was 
 a large fire basin in the floor, in the center, whence 
 the smoke found its own way to the hole in the roof. 
 The two ends of the room were occupied by bunks.
 
 THROUGH THE WHEAT FIELDS. 179 
 
 There was a work bench at one side, which boasted a 
 very fair assortment of tools that had evidently pro- 
 duced every article of furniture which the house con- 
 tained. Standing upon the bench, in process of 
 construction, was the latest product: a quaint, old- 
 fashioned cradle, looking as though it had been 
 modeled from a cut of cradles of five hundred years 
 ago. There was nothing quaint or ancient about its 
 future occupant, however ; a fat and rosy little urchin 
 only a few weeks old, jogging about the room upon 
 the broad hip of his fat Dutch mamma, while she 
 spread upon the plain wooden table a supper as warm 
 and hearty as her husband's invitation had been. 
 
 Early in' the morning they started on their way 
 southward, bearing the earnest God speed of their 
 host, who stubbornly refused any remuneration for his 
 hospitality, and of the whole settlement, in fact, for 
 they all turned out to see them off. 
 
 " How strange it is to find two sets of people breath- 
 ing the same air, living on the same soil, so different 
 as the Indians and Mennonites," Oscar remarked. 
 
 Charlie thought the matter over for a moment and 
 replied : " It's the nature of the beast. Skunk cabbage 
 and forget-me-nots always grow in the same mud holes." 
 He had another matter on his mind, however, and after 
 riding a little way in silence began : " I've been think- 
 ing about what they said of the Sioux uprising. They 
 are the worst set of devils on the plains, even when
 
 180 THROUGH THE WHEAT FIELDS. 
 
 they are at their best on the reservation. If they've 
 left it and spread out over the north of Dakota there's 
 no telling where they'll fetch up, or what they'll do 
 when they get there. There's not one chance in ten 
 that we shall meet a single party going this way be- 
 tween here and Bismarck. There are precious few 
 forts and less settlements, while it's a perfect Black- 
 foot hotbed, and there won't be a mile of the way that 
 Indians won't know just where we are and what our 
 outfit is worth. If there is anything to be gained I 
 am ready to go on in a bee line for Bismarck, and 
 fight our way as far as we can ; though I very much 
 doubt the possibility of coming out alive. If we do, 
 we shall reach Bismarck pretty well tuckered, as well 
 as our horses, with the worst of it all still ahead of us. 
 Now if we go over east a little way we shall strike 
 Pembina, on the Red River of the North, and can go 
 by rail to Casselton, and then west by rail to Bis- 
 marck, getting there about as quickly, entirely fresh, 
 and in all probability alive. What do you say ? " 
 
 " The only way I can do it is by swapping Sancho 
 for a cheaper horse to pay the fare," Oscar replied. 
 
 " Bosh ! " Charlie exclaimed. " I've got money 
 enough with me to take us that far and still have 
 enough left for a while. I surely don't need it now. 
 If we don't get through alive I sha'n't ever want it. 
 If we do, and you ever strike it rich, somewhere, you 
 can pay me back."
 
 THROUGH THE WHEAT FIELDS. 181 
 
 Oscar saw the necessity of consenting, and late that 
 evening they entered Pembina, on " the American 
 side " as it is called, and for the first time Oscar 
 found himself in the United States. 
 
 Pembina was one of the first trading posts estab- 
 lished in this region, and had made very little progress. 
 Indians still flocked about the town, but the fort 
 on the west bank of the river made them "heap 
 good friend of pale face " while they were in the 
 neighborhood. 
 
 Red River carts were in their glory here. Steamers 
 for Winnipeg were supposed to leave every day. 
 Hundreds of people were coming and going through 
 Pembina, but the people who staid there were in the 
 minority. It rained during the night, and in the 
 morning the mud was ankle deep as they made their 
 way to the railway station. The high and narrow 
 wooden sidewalks were crowded with people of every 
 stamp and every nation. The cars and the steamboats 
 brought them from all parts of the world, upon every 
 conceivable mission, and carts and oxen, mules and 
 horses added to the motley crowd. There were swells, 
 from distant cities, in white shirts and polished boots ; 
 bull-whackers and mule-skinners in broad-brimmed 
 hats, woollen shirts open at the throat, high-topped 
 boots heavy with red mud, and bull whips tied over 
 their shoulders ; Chinese, just like Chinese every- 
 where ; Blackfeet and Chippewas, Indian from king
 
 182 THROUGH THE WHEAT FIELDS. 
 
 feather to moccasin, and Pawnees, all paint and 
 feathers above the shoulders, then calico hunting 
 shirts and blue army breeches, to indicate that they 
 belonged to the Indian scout department of the regu- 
 lar army of the United States, then moccasins again, 
 suggesting that in head and heels, at least, the'y were 
 still Indians ; cowboys, as there are cowboys every- 
 where, for one purpose or another, in every frontier 
 center ; emigrants, starting for imaginary havens, 
 their promiscuous outfit packed in Red* River carts, 
 prairie schooners or jiggers, or tied on the backs of 
 bony mules or jaded horses ; immigrants with dilapi- 
 dated outfits, coming back from unveiled havens ; 
 farmers, miners, ranchmen, going and coming with 
 their various outfits or hanging about the stores; 
 porters, bronzed and toughened by their long journeys 
 with skins and preparing for return trips with the 
 products of civilization ; women who had been out of 
 society so long that they had forgotten how to comb 
 their hair ; children at a loss to find out what they 
 were made for ; people in all stages of intoxication, in 
 all stages of desperation, and in a lank and gloomy 
 fashion in all stages of satisfaction, all set off by a 
 background of irregular shop windows where every- 
 thing useful or rudely and glaringly ornamental was 
 huddled together in a thoroughly promiscuous but not 
 thoroughly picturesque confusion. 
 
 Oscar hardly spoke from the time they left the hotel
 
 THROUGH THE WHEAT FIELDS. 183 
 
 till they reached the railway station, where they placed 
 their horses in a box car, seated themselves by the 
 open door, in order to be near them in case of accident, 
 and the mixed train started for the south. Then 
 Charlie laid his hand on Oscar's knee, remarking : 
 
 " You're pretty blue, my boy, and I don't blame 
 you." 
 
 " I believe I'm a little homesick, v he replied, and 
 tried to smile, but his lip quivered in spite of him. 
 
 Charlie said nothing for a moment, but presently, 
 leaning back against the side of the door, he began : 
 
 " It's a funny thing, but I think a fellow never 
 feels half so much alone out upon a prairie, a hundred 
 miles from a human being, as he does in such a place 
 as that. They do make a fellow homesick, awfully 
 homesick, there's no mistake. And yet there is some- 
 thing about them that you come to like, in spite of it ; 
 and if they don't please you themselves they do spoil 
 you for liking city life in the East, if you once get 
 accustomed to them. In college I was crazy over 
 mining, and struck out for Leadville the moment I had 
 my diploma packed away. It wasn't very ideal there, 
 now I tell you, and I came up to the Black Hills over 
 the same path that we shall follow, only the other 
 way. Well, that didn't pan out for me, either. 
 Everything was every which way, and nothing as it 
 should be. I lost my money and didn't make more. 
 I didn't strike it anywhere, even to grub stakes, say
 
 184 THROUGH THE WHEAT FIELDS. 
 
 nothing of millions. Oh ! I got desperately homesick, 
 you can bet. I was just a wreck. I couldn't stand 
 it any longer, and I lit out for Boston. Before I was 
 half-way back, however, I was tired of seeing every- 
 thing so law and order, spink and span, and I felt like 
 one in a dream, finding himself somewhere where he 
 doesn't want to be, and wondering why in the world 
 he came there. I kept on, but I didn't feel right and 
 I was ashamed of myself from the moment I landed. 
 It wasn't the place for me, and in less than a month I 
 borrowed money and came back. A trail is a good 
 enough street for me, and my six-shooter is better 
 than a whole squad of policemen. I have made money 
 enough since then. I've corraled quite a bunch in 
 Winnipeg, and rounded up a good lump in Boston, 
 but now I have no use for it. I very much doubt if 
 I shall ever touch it. I would not lie awake five min- 
 utes to learn that the whole was swept away. Look 
 at these homestead claims we are passing. See those 
 little shanties, ten by ten, with one door and one win- 
 dow in front, a roof with a single slant, nine feet high 
 in front, seven behind, and a chimney. Stable's the 
 same, only without the chimney and window. Maybe 
 those folks are sad, but if they are it's something 
 wrong. They have a right to be happy, and most of 
 them are ; but I reckon you could not say so much of 
 the homestead claims staked out along the swell streets 
 of Boston."
 
 THROUGH THE WHEAT FIELDS. 185 
 
 They found these homestead claims all along the 
 banks of the Red River, with here and there a settle- 
 ment of more or less importance, which had sprung up 
 like magic, for some slight excuse, grown like a weed 
 in the warm sun of future promise, often come to a 
 sudden standstill, when the promises were postponed, 
 or dropped into a forlorn collection of dilapidated huts, 
 half of them deserted and already falling to ruin, 
 where the promises had failed or been transferred to 
 some other locality. It did not require much time or 
 labor to build up a settlement, and hundreds were 
 ready to undertake it if there seemed to be a future 
 before it. There was not much of real value to leave 
 behind, and the hundreds were again ready to leave it 
 the moment they saw a brighter outlook somewhere 
 else. 
 
 Wheat was everywhere. Every little claim and 
 larger farm was raising it. They were entering the 
 great wheat fields of Dakota, where the Sioux and 
 the Chippewas chased the buffalo and fought each 
 other till the buffalo ceased to be altogether, and the 
 Sioux and the Chippewas became only desperate, iso- 
 lated fragments of what they had been, and the Star 
 of Empire came and stood still over an undeveloped 
 country where summer wheat could be raised ; so wide 
 and so far reaching that it possesses the capacity for 
 supplying the whole world with summer wheat for 
 ages to come.
 
 180 
 
 THROUGH THE WHEAT FIELDS. 
 
 Large and small farmhouses constantly increased. 
 Piles of lumber and long lines of farm wagons were 
 at every station, ploughs, seeders, reapers, harrows, 
 threshers, were waiting to be carried away to the 
 farms. 
 
 They stopped for a day at Casselton, to rest their 
 horses before starting on the road running west, which 
 
 r 
 
 A KL'X TO THE DALRYMPLE FARM. 
 
 would carry them to Bismarck, where they were again 
 to take the trail for the Black Hills. 
 
 To occupy their time they rode out to that world- 
 famous combination of four gigantic farms which 
 originated under the shrewd and practical manage* 
 ment of Oliver Dalrymple. 
 
 The town itself was far superior to Pembina, with 
 as much activity and much more system, but with a 
 carious disproportion between the large wooden stores
 
 THROUGH THE WHEAT FIELDS. 187 
 
 and the homes which at irregular intervals lay along 
 the few streets stretching out over the level plain. It 
 was such a condition as might in a few years produce 
 a rival for St. Paul or Kansas City, or might in less 
 time degenerate to a freight depot and a few crum- 
 bling memorials to prospects that had failed to 
 materialize. 
 
 Oscar and Charlie were not there to speculate in 
 real estate, however. They only looked about them to 
 see what was to be seen, and rode away to the great 
 wheat farm. 
 
 " I worked here for one season, while I was making 
 my way north," Charlie said. " There were seventy- 
 five thousand acres then under cultivation, and I pre- 
 sume there's twice that now. It was surely the best- 
 conducted farm in the world. The worked part was 
 divided into quarters and each quarter was a separate 
 division, with its superintendent, a complete set of 
 buildings a house for the superintendent and a big 
 boarding-house for the hands, a stable, granary, ma- 
 chine shop and blacksmith's shop. It is just a reg- 
 ular army, divided into gangs of twenty teams with 
 a mounted foreman for each gang, who has a mounted 
 staff of two machinists with him. I have forgotten 
 how many hundred horses and mules are employed, 
 but every piece of farming machinery run by man, 
 horse or steam, that is any good, is at work here." 
 
 It was a beautiful day. There was not a cloud in
 
 188 THROUGH THE WHEAT FIELDS. 
 
 the sky or a fence or hill to break the perfect level of 
 the prairie. Far away to the south the course of 
 Maple River was marked by a dim fringe of trees, 
 but in every other direction the prairie made its own 
 horizon line against the sky. The divisions could 
 easily be distinguished by the clusters of buildings, and 
 everywhere gangs were at work as they rode about 
 watching the various operations. 
 
 " It's not much like the old days that poets wrote 
 their pastorals about, is it?" Charlie asked. "Why, 
 I can remember my father breaking new land upon 
 our farm. The plough was made by the village car- 
 penter and blacksmith. It was a solid oak beam 
 twelve feet long, with a natural wind helped out by 
 the adze. It was shod with cast-off horseshoes and 
 any old bits of iron we could save up, and the share 
 was a strip of iron tipped with steel. They would 
 sometimes hitch in six yoke of oxen, with two drivers, 
 for new land. Then a fellow had to sit on the beam 
 to keep it down and another work like grim death to 
 steer it, while another followed behind with a mattock 
 to turn the turf, and all together, if they had good 
 luck and almost killed themselves, would get over an 
 acre and a half of new ground in a day. Now just look 
 at that gang in the new ground over there. There 
 are twenty sulky ploughs in a line, drawn by two mules 
 each. Nobody has to hold them. A ten-year-old boy 
 could drive as well as any one. They are going at a
 
 THROUGH THE WHEAT FIELDS. 189 
 
 good sharp walk and ploughing two or three furrows 
 each. They break new ground that way this month 
 and let the sod lie and rot till fall. Then they back- 
 set it and harrow it with machines which run just as 
 easy, and leave it till spring when it is ready to seed. 
 They put in the seed, sometimes, as early as the middle 
 of March, in spite of the cold winters, and that is a 
 great sight, too. It wouldn't be so wonderful to you 
 as it was to me, for when I was a boy I many a time 
 tramped along the furrows dragging a chain to mark 
 the line for some one to follow with a big basket 
 strapped to him, throwing the grain right and left and 
 wasting more than half of it by sowing it too thick, or 
 where it got covered too deep or lay on the top for the 
 birds. All that these fellows do is to put the seed 
 into boxes, on wheels, regulated to scatter it just as 
 thickly as they wish and absolutely alike, everywhere, 
 and cover it just so deep every time. Then with a 
 couple of good horses in front of them they start off 
 for all day. I don't know but the harvesting is the 
 greatest thing, after all, when you think of the old 
 sickles and cradles, and binding sheaves with wisps of 
 straw and then threshing it out sometime in the win- 
 ter. On this farm they do the whole thing inside of 
 three weeks. They take four mules instead of two, 
 for the machines do more work, and the extra man 
 walks behind. The machine cuts the grain in front 
 of it, gathers it up in bundles, twists a wire about it,
 
 190 
 
 THROUGH THE WHEAT FIELDS. 
 
 binds the wire and tosses the sheaf out behind, for 
 the man who is following to set up to ripen. Then 
 the threshing machine is put to work and turns out at 
 least seven hundred bushels a day, works night and 
 
 "THAT'S WHAT i CALL FARMING." 
 
 day, burns up the straw for fuel, and the work is all 
 over by the last of September." 
 
 "That's what I call farming," Oscar remarked, as 
 they rode back to take the night train to Bismarck, 
 where they replenished their outfit.
 
 THROUGH THE WHEAT FIELDS. 191 
 
 " Did you see that Indian boy. watching us and fol- 
 lowing us all the while we were in Bismarck?" 
 Charlie asked, as they started again upon the trail. 
 
 " Watching us ? Nonsense ! " Oscar replied. 
 
 " No ; it is not," Charlie insisted. " I tried to call 
 your attention to him two or three times, but each 
 time he vanished before I got a chance. Panza knew 
 him. That was what first attracted my attention. 
 She was trying to speak to him, but the moment I 
 looked he turned away. I remembered seeing him 
 around before, and I saw him two or three times 
 afterward." 
 
 " Well, if Panza's getting to make friends that way, 
 I'll teach her better," Oscar exclaimed. 
 
 " She was not making a new friend, she was greet- 
 ing an old one," Charlie observed, and immediately 
 changed the subject.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 A DOUBTFUL HOST. 
 
 OSCAR found his spirits rising again the moment 
 the open country lay about him, though the path was 
 very different from that which they had followed 
 through Manitoba. It was more a wild and broken 
 table land. The stage road, with its established sta- 
 tions, was not so well patronized as it had been when 
 Bismarck offered the nearest railway connection to 
 the Black Hills. Thousands upon thousands had 
 been over that trail, but the thousands had dwindled 
 now to a very few, and with the decrease trouble 
 from restless Indians had increased. In the busy 
 days only an occasional stage that chanced to be alone, 
 or an isolated party, was ever disturbed by highway- 
 men. Everything was isolated and solitary, now, and 
 as the result an attempt at least was made to hold 
 up pretty much everything that went over the road. 
 Little by little the road agents had been shot off, 
 captured or driven away, or had left on account of 
 
 192
 
 A DOUBTFUL HOST. 193 
 
 dull business ; but the few that remained had baffled 
 every attempt to trace them, and had been growing 
 more and more daring and desperate. 
 
 There was another trail, more of an Indian trail, 
 that was shorter, leading very direct to Deadwood, 
 through the badlands and reservations, and the coun- 
 try that had recently been opened. It occasionally 
 touched the sfcage route, and a part of the way was the 
 same. 
 
 There was little prospect of their having company 
 by either trail, and considering that the advantages 
 offered by occasional stage houses were less than the 
 disadvantages of running into road agents as well as 
 having more miles to go, they chose the shorter trail. 
 
 They were not disappointed in the prospect of be- 
 ing alone. Indians occasionally passed them, but 
 seemed to be peaceful enough, and after they were be- 
 yond the immediate influence of the outlying farms 
 and ranches of Bismarck, which were very few on 
 that side of the river, they saw no signs of life except 
 the omnipresent prairie dog and his associates. 
 
 As they sat before a fire cooking a rabbit which 
 Panza had brought in, Charlie remarked : " If we 
 don't strike larger game than this to-morrow we shall 
 have to tie up and go hunt for it. We're not likely 
 to strike many restaurant stations on this road, and 
 the beans and flour and bacon in the pack will give 
 out before we get to Deadwood, without help."
 
 194 
 
 A DOUBTFUL HOST. 
 
 *' Don't forget the box of crackers," Oscar said. 
 
 " No ; I sha'n't forget that when I am hungry, I 
 tell you," Charlie replied, with a laugh. 
 
 It was growing dark, and they were anxiously 
 watching for some favorable 
 place to spend the night, when 
 Panza began to show decided 
 signs of disturbance. 
 
 " What has she struck now, 
 I wonder ? " Charlie said, dis- 
 
 OLD SET: LEES. 
 
 mounting and taking the lead line, to set her at 
 liberty. 
 
 "Something has been along there that she don't 
 like ; that's all," Oscar remarked carelessly. 
 
 "Well, the question is, what was it?" Charlie re- 
 plied ; " for there is an even chance that it may have 
 been something that I don't like, either, and it is get-
 
 A DOUBTFUL HOST. 195 
 
 ting too near dark for that. This trail is so heavy 
 and dry that I can't see a track. Hold on ! She's 
 struck it again in the dust. Oh ! it's nothing but a 
 wolf." 
 
 " No ; it is not a wolf," Oscar said, examining the 
 track which Charlie had found. " It's a dog, Charlie. 
 I know a wolf's tracks I examined them carefully 
 in the snow, that day up in the woods with father, so 
 that I should be able to tell them from Panza. A 
 wolf's foot is larger and spreads out more, and has 
 sharper claws. See? These are not so large as 
 Panza's. It's a dog ; an Indian dog. That's what's 
 the matter with her. Do you suppose there are 
 Indians round ? " he added, with a quick, nervous 
 glance about him. 
 
 " There'll be Indians round all the way to Dead- 
 wood. Bother their painted hides ! " Charlie muttered. 
 " But the dog is as likely to belong to a squatter as 
 to a red skin. At all events, I should like to find 
 out before we unsaddle. Put Panza on the track, and 
 let's see where it goes, but stop her quick if she strikes 
 toward the rocky land to the west." 
 
 Panza did not much fancy being put to trail an- 
 other dog, but when she realized that it must be done 
 she led away, and after they had followed for half a 
 mile they discovered a low building, just where the 
 stage route and the trail met for the second time. It 
 was the first sod house which Oscar had ever seen.
 
 196 A DOUBTFUL HOST. 
 
 It was larger than a log cabin, low and long, with 
 walls of sods, laid like bricks, and the roof of sods, 
 supported on corner posts and cross bars. There was 
 one door and one window visible, a stone chimney 
 built outside, and an empty powder keg on top. 
 
 "A squatter," Charlie muttered. 
 
 " We're in luck, then," Oscar said. 
 
 " We're liable to be," Charlie replied ; " but it de- 
 pends a good deal on who and what the squatter is. 
 You stay here with the pack and Panza and I'll go up 
 and find out." 
 
 He had not been gone long when the savage bark- 
 ing of a dog sounded, and Panza looked up with a 
 low growl which very plainly said, " I told you so." 
 Then the door opened, and a moment later Charlie 
 called and Oscar rode up to the cabin. 
 
 The squatter still stood in the door with a heavy 
 double-barreled gun under his arm. He was a power- 
 ful man, with grizzled and bushy beard and a mass of 
 long and tangled gray hair. His motions were dull 
 and slow, but even in the fading twilight it was easy 
 to see that the eyes were quick and keen. 
 
 He did not seem particularly glad to see them or even 
 passably civil, and had Oscar expressed an opinion, it 
 would have been to stand upon his dignity and take 
 his blanket out upon the open prairie ; but seeing 
 Charlie making the best of things as he found them, 
 he quietly followed his example.
 
 A DOUBTFUL HOST. 197 
 
 The end of the sod house was a stable. The squat- 
 ter silently led the way, unlocked the door and sullenly 
 stood there while they unsaddled their horses, fed and 
 watered them and found places for them out of reach 
 of the heels of two mules which were already stabled 
 there. When all was ready for the night Charlie took 
 a box of ammunition and a piece of bacon from the 
 pack saddle, and the squatter locked the door behind 
 them as they came out. 
 
 It was evident to Oscar that there was something 
 seriously out of order in their present position. 
 Charlie did not speak a word to him, but kept singing 
 snatches of cowboy songs, and when he spoke to the 
 squatter it was in a tone and dialect which Oscar 
 could hardly imagine as pertaining, in any way, to his 
 friend of a half -hour before. 
 
 There was a large trough at the stable door, sup- 
 plied by an artesian well. As they passed it Charlie 
 said, " Make a good livin' outer this hole in the ground, 
 waterin' stage bosses?" 
 
 The old man grunted, for all the world like an 
 Indian. 
 
 "They tell me biz hes lit out some, frum these 
 parts," Charlie added, and the squatter gave a savage 
 grunt. 
 
 " Bottom fell clean out, or will she strike a fresh 
 vein later on ? " Charlie asked ; and the squatter 
 shrugged his broad shoulders and answered with an
 
 198 A DOUBTFUL HOST. 
 
 Indian's grunt of uncertainty, as he led the way into 
 the cabin, leaning his gun against the wall just inside 
 the door. Charlie set his rifle down on the opposite 
 side of the door, and Oscar followed his example. 
 
 The only light in the room came from a fire which 
 had recently been kindled. The only occupant was 
 an Indian squaw seated on the floor before it, prepar- 
 ing some supper for the guests, and the dog, skulking 
 away in one corner, savagely grumbling at Panza's 
 presence there. 
 
 Charlie handed the box to Oscar, and walking 
 across the room hung the bacon upon a nail in the 
 rafter near the fire, at the same time saying : " The 
 kid's got a box o' gun-fodder there. I s'pose ye kin 
 make it work in somewhere ? " 
 
 The squatter grunted. Oscar laid the box on the 
 table. 
 
 " How's shootin' in these parts, pard ?" Charlie asked. 
 
 " Good 'nough ter what et mought be," the fellow 
 muttered, as he scraped out an old pipe. 
 
 Charlie tossed a piece of tobacco on the table, 
 pushed a stool into a convenient position with his foot, 
 and sat down, leaning back against a tier of bunks 
 and balancing his feet on the table, as he continued, 
 " Fact is we're flyin' light for fresh, an' ef ye've got 
 a good buck handy, that we could drop 'out gittiii' our 
 scalps lifted, 'twould stock up the larder in good 
 shape."
 
 A DOUBTFUL HOST. 199 
 
 The squatter bobbed his head in acknowledgment of 
 thci tobacco, which was more than he had done for the 
 bacon or ammunition, and while he cut and prepared 
 a pipeful of it replied : " Injins is everywhar, an' 
 fightin' drunk. I don't make no promises 'bout scalps ; 
 but arter grub we kin go up a piece an' scoop some 
 deer on shares." 
 
 Charlie took his turn at grunting, and stuffing his 
 hands deep into his pockets, threw his head back 
 against the bunk and began to whistle. 
 
 Oscar was thoroughly perplexed, but realizing that 
 it was a game of grave importance which Charlie was 
 playing, he did his best to follow the lead, and made 
 himself thoroughly at home. Not knowing what it 
 would be best to say, he very wisely said nothing. For 
 some minutes he sat watching the curious picture, and 
 all the time not a word was spoken in the sod house. 
 Charlie was whistling and dreaming, with his eyes 
 apparently shut, as though he were alone in the uni- 
 verse. The squatter puffed upon his pipe and drowsily 
 watched the clouds of smoke as though no living thing 
 were near him. The fire crackled and the frying pan 
 and kettle bubbled and hissed, while the squaw watched 
 them, apparently unconscious that there was a mortal 
 behind her. Only Pauza and the yellow Indian dog 
 seemed not to have forgotten each other's existence. 
 Now and then a whining snarl would come from 
 under a bunk in the distant corner, and in response
 
 200 A DOUBTFUL HOST. 
 
 Oscar heard Panza, lying beside his stool, give her 
 chops a quick, savage lap, and the click of her teeth 
 as her jaws came together again. 
 
 Oscar began to dream, himself. A curious atmos- 
 phere pervaded the sod house, in which each occupant 
 seemed too deeply engrossed in his own problems to 
 be aware of anything else. Oscar gave up trying 
 to understand the situation and began to recall old 
 marchen stories, with the squaw before the fire for the 
 witch, and the grizzled squatter a grim giant, waiting 
 to have his table spread with victims. The longer he 
 thought of it the more real it grew, till it seemed to 
 him that he and Charlie were the little mortals who 
 had fallen into the giant's clutches and were about 
 to be served on his table. There are people who 
 really know no more about it than other people who 
 will say that it was a wave of thought-power creeping 
 over him from an intense mental activity, any outward 
 expression of which the two men before him were so 
 successfully concealing, which was really going on be- 
 hind the whistling and the smoking. At all events 
 the dream had its effect upon Oscar. It made an im- 
 pression which did not wear away, but influenced his 
 actions throughout the evening and even longer. 
 
 At last the squaw broke the spell with a grunt 
 which signified that her preparations for supper were 
 complete. She rose from the fire, and Charlie brought 
 his feet down from the table, remarking, as if in
 
 A DOUBTFUL HOST. 201 
 
 answer to the last words of the squatter, " I don't lie 
 awake nights spoilin' fur a fight with red skins nor 
 white stuff, nuther, but 'twould take a stiffer breeze 
 nor has blow'd so fur ter snow Mountain Charlie in, 
 ef it cum ter straight biz." 
 
 The surly host made no reply, but stuffing his pipe 
 in his pocket pushed his chair to the table with his 
 foot. Oscar did not wait for an invitation, but gave 
 his stool a shove and lounged along after it in a way 
 that won a glance of hearty approval from Charlie. 
 
 For a squatter's sod house, with a squaw at the 
 helm, the supper was decidedly good. They all ate 
 heartily, helping themselves, without invitation or cere- 
 mony, with their own knives and forks. The moment 
 he had finished, the squatter lit his pipe again, spoke 
 to his dog, took up his gun and bobbed his head 
 toward the door as he opened it, by way of indicating 
 that he was ready to start. Charlie deliberately 
 stretched, yawned and replied : 
 
 " Kid's goin'. He kin knock the head off a pin 
 fur's he kin see it. Two's 'nough fur deer. One's 
 none too many ter hang round sech hoss-flesh as our'n." 
 
 A frown shot across the squatter's forehead. An 
 involuntary motion of his hand toward the door showed 
 very plainly that his first intention was to close it and 
 abandon the hunt. Without seeing through it Oscar 
 realized that their host was in a disagreeable box, 
 where Charlie had intentionally placed him. He
 
 202 A DOUBTFUL HOST. 
 
 covered it well, however, and a moment later mut- 
 tered : " Good 'nough ! Come on, youngster," and 
 started. 
 
 " Better leave yer dorg behind," Charlie called to 
 Oscar as he turned to follow him. " She don't hitch 
 hosses with t'other one." 
 
 The hint was enough. Oscar went out alone, with 
 his strange companion. He was not particularly 
 alarmed for his personal safety, for he had unlimited 
 confidence in Charlie, who evidently grasped the situ- 
 ation and knew what he was about ; but he was only a 
 boy of sixteen, after all, and this was his first experi- 
 ence of frontier life. There was something uncanny 
 about it, at the least, that constantly recalled the 
 giant and his feast. 
 
 The man went to the stable, took out one of the 
 mules, and with the lead line over his shoulder and 
 the dog at his heels started for the rough land rising 
 in broken buttes and low hills and knolls a little dis- 
 tance to the west. He had already disclosed the fact 
 that he was not an expert conversationalist. Oscar 
 expected nothing, and having enough to do on his own 
 account without talking, he did not try to tempt him. 
 
 They went on in absolute silence till the dog began 
 to sniff in a suggestive way, when the squatter at 
 once tethered the mule, and leaving the dog beside 
 it struck a more cautious pace and crept onward, fol- 
 lowed closely by Oscar. A moment later he dropped
 
 A DOUBTFUL HOST. 203 
 
 upon his hands and knees and Oscar followed his 
 example. 
 
 The moon rose without a cloud, making the smooth 
 surfaces almost as distinct as by day, while the 
 shadows seemed all the blacker in contrast. They 
 were creeping toward a fantastic pile of bowlders, sur- 
 rounded by scraggy cedars, upon the brow of a butte, 
 and as they climbed higher, Hearing the summit, a 
 grand scene beyond gradually unfolded before Oscar's 
 eyes. Wild and magnificent Nature stretched away in 
 an opening panorama so sublime that, forgetting every- 
 thing else, he stopped more than once to admire it. 
 
 Beyond the bowlders a hill evidently fell away into 
 a ravine, neither of which could be seen, as yet, but 
 beyond them stretched snow-white ledges and black 
 gorges, out of which came the rumbling of cascades, 
 and here and there a cloud of mist rose like white 
 smoke in the moonlight, marking some headlong 
 plunge which the stream was making among the rocks. 
 
 A few feet more and they were crouching behind 
 the bowlders. As Oscar gained his feet the squatter 
 touched him on the shoulder. It was only to point 
 through a cleft in the rocks, but it sent a cold shudder 
 over him as though the man had stabbed him with 
 a knife and for an instant the marchen picture 
 flashed before him again. He was ashamed of it, and 
 resolutely turned and looked through the cleft at a 
 sight to thrill a sportsman's heart.
 
 204 A DOUBTFUL HOST. 
 
 In a smooth slope, only broken by a few moss- 
 covered bowlders, the hillside stretched down into a 
 deep valley. The silvery moss and dew-covered grass 
 gleamed in the moonlight, and wherever his eye rested 
 over the entire knoll, dark heads were thrust up above 
 the grass, broad ears were turned full toward the 
 bowlders, delicate pointed noses were sniffing suspi- 
 ciously, and in the immediate foreground, less than a 
 hundred feet away and not twenty feet apart, two 
 magnificent pairs of antlers, looking as if they were 
 crusted with snow, tossed in the moonlight above the 
 heads of two large bucks, suddenly roused from sleep 
 by some suspicious sound or odor beyond the bowlders. 
 
 It was such a sight as Oscar had never seen before, 
 and might well have obliterated everything else for 
 the moment, at least. Even while he looked Oscar 
 wondered that it did not absorb his entire attention, 
 and that /he turned, almost instantly, to look back at 
 the man beside him. He wondered, while he was 
 doing it, that, instead of preparing at once to fire, 
 where he was, he motioned the squatter to keep the 
 place, while he quickly and noiselessly crept away to 
 the farther end of the bowlder, keeping his eyes more 
 intently upon his companion than upon the deer. He 
 was certainly acting more upon instinct than reason, 
 but if the most profound reasoning is not founded on 
 instinct it is in great danger of leading even the wisest 
 men astray.
 
 A DOUBTFUL HOST. 205 
 
 Upon the side of the rock which he approached the 
 bowlder shelved in at the bottom, leaving a deep 
 crevice, absolutely black, under its shadow. The 
 change of position had required but a moment. Not 
 a deer had risen from the moss. Oscar could easily 
 have started them and fired from where he stood, look- 
 ing over the edge of the bowlder, but all the time his 
 thoughts were bent upon something else which he did 
 not himself begin to comprehend. As his eyes fell 
 upon the black shelter under the rock, he slipped 
 down into it with a sigh of relief and muttered : " All 
 ready. Start them up." 
 
 There was no need. The sound of his voice was 
 quite sufficient. The two bucks were on their feet in 
 an instant. Taking the one nearest his end of the 
 rock, Oscar only waited for him to turn for a fair 
 position, and fired. 
 
 Many a wonderful story has been told of the amount 
 which the brain can accomplish in dreams, in a mo- 
 ment's time ; but there is something much more won- 
 derful in the amount which a wide-awake brain can 
 accomplish, if put to the test and all that it does is 
 traced. 
 
 It was the first time in his life that Oscar had made 
 a moonlight shot at a deer. It required a cool head 
 and a steady hand. He saw the deer leap and drop, 
 and knew that he had killed him. All over the hill- 
 side he saw others springing to their feet, and thought
 
 206 A DOUBTFUL HOST. 
 
 how easily a band of Indians instead of deer, might 
 have lain hidden there till one had walked right into 
 the midst of them. He knew he had not heard his 
 companion's gun, and to see if they had possibly fired 
 at the same instant he glanced at the other buck, just 
 turning away with a bound, and knew that he had not 
 fired at all. His ear caught a faint sound, as if a 
 twig ci'acked behind him. Without looking he knew 
 what it meant, and his rifle was empty. He remem- 
 bered a statement Charlie had made way back in 
 Manitoba, that one rarely needed a six-shooter, even 
 upon the plains, but when he did he needed it quicker 
 than lightning and sure to a pinhead. He thought 
 how he had practiced the cowboy's art of pulling a 
 six-shooter, cocking and firing all in one motion. He 
 remembered that he was sheltered by the shadow of 
 the bowlder and that as long as he kept in it he had 
 at least that protection. All this flashed through his 
 mind and, careful that his pistol did not strike the 
 rock, he caught it from his belt and cocked it as he 
 turned, like a flash, exclaiming : 
 
 " That'll do, now ! Drop that gun or I'll fire ! " 
 It was all so quickly done that as he stood with his 
 revolver leveled at the crouching form of the burly 
 squatter, saw the big double-barreled gun for an in- 
 stant aimed at him, then dropped to the squatter's 
 knee, he noticed the smoke of his own rifle drifting 
 above the fellow's head.
 
 A DOUBTFUL HOST. 207 
 
 With a grunt the squatter muttered : " You there ! 
 I couldn't see nuthin' an' I mought 'a' blowed daylight 
 through ye, drawin' on that buck. Wall, he's went, 
 now, an' ye kin give me half o' your'n fur gittin' in 
 my way. Yer'd better go down thar lively an' cut his 
 throat, ter let him bleed." 
 
 Oscar was perplexed. He knew very well that the 
 man was aiming at him, and would have fired before 
 if he had seen him, yet it was quite possible that he 
 was simply crazy. He could not think of any other 
 reason for his shooting him. At all events, there was 
 no sense in discussing the matter, so he simply said : 
 " You can do that better than I. You are more used 
 to it. Drop that roer of yours and go down to the 
 deer." The man's only response was to clutch the 
 gun more firmly. He even made a slight motion, as 
 though he were ready to throw it to his shoulder again. 
 Oscar took one quick step forward, bringing his pistol 
 into the light, saying sharply, " Drop it ! and do as I 
 tell you, or I'll" - 
 
 " Put up yer shootin'-irons ! " the fellow shouted sav- 
 agely, throwing his gun on the ground. " I'll cut the 
 buck's throat fur ye, an' yours, too, ef et'll 'blege ye any." 
 
 " Not to-night, thank you," Oscar replied. " I am 
 not so sure of you as I might be, but I am sure of 
 this shooter ; and from now till we reach your cabin 
 it is going to cover your heart. Do you understand? 
 It goes off mighty easy, and if you make one false
 
 I 
 208 A DOUBTFUL HOST. 
 
 move I shall pull the trigger, and pull it quick. Hurry 
 up, now ! " 
 
 Without another word the squatter moved slowly 
 toward the deer, drawing his hunting knife as he 
 walked, and running his thumb along the blade with 
 a suggestive grunt. 
 
 Oscar picked up the gun and his rifle, leaning them 
 against the rock, keeping his eye carefully upon the 
 squatter, when he heard a low whisper pronounce his 
 name. With a start which betrayed his strained 
 nerves and showed how thoroughly frightened he 
 really was, in spite of his calmness, he looked over his 
 shoulder to see Charlie with Panza at his heels, creep- 
 ing from behind the shrubbery. 
 
 Grasping Oscar's left hand he whispered in his ear : 
 "You did that nobly, old fellow. I was afraid he'd 
 cook up something, so I followed close behind. I had 
 a bead on him, but I waited for him to put his gun to 
 his shoulder to be sure. I was just touching the trig- 
 ger when you spoke and he flopped. I never fired at 
 a white man yet, and, thank God, I didn't have to 
 begin to-night. I tell you, you did that fine." 
 
 " Are the horses safe ? " Oscar asked eagerly. 
 
 " I reckon so," Charlie replied. " I only told the 
 squaw that I was going out to watch round the place ; 
 and he has the key in his pocket. Keep your eye on 
 him for a minute more. I'll come up from the other 
 side. Don't act as though anything had happened."
 
 A DOUBTFUL HOST. 209 
 
 Ckarlie disappeared, and Oscar leaned against the 
 bowlder, with the pistol still in his hand ; but his 
 hand was trembling so that he could scarcely keep it 
 from falling. Help had come lifting the burden from 
 his shoulders, and he suddenly realized that he was 
 only a boy of sixteen, after all, frightened almost out 
 of his senses. 
 
 If he had stopped to consider the two sides of him- 
 self portrayed in the last five minutes, under the 
 shadow of that rock, he would have found an explana- 
 tion of the peculiar condition he had described to 
 Charlie on the Manitoba prairie, and have realized 
 why the best scholar dreads the examination, the best 
 sailor the storm, the best bronco buster the unruly 
 colt, and the best Indian hunter the red man, for he 
 would have seen a boy, who, in an emergency, faced 
 down the giant squatter and his double-barreled roer, 
 shaking like a leaf at the very sight of the unarmed 
 man, kneeling with his back toward him, a hundred 
 feet away. 
 
 Oscar was not philosophizing at that moment, how- 
 ever. He was upbraiding himself for being a coward, 
 struggling to stop his hand trembling, pressing his knees 
 against the rock to keep them from shaking, vacantly 
 staring at the squatter while he cleaned the deer, cut- 
 ting away the waste parts and angrily muttering : " He 
 could cut my throat with a feather if he should come 
 back and try. I wish Charlie would hurry up."
 
 210 A DOUBTFUL HOST. 
 
 Suddenly the Indian dog began to bark in short, 
 sharp yelps. In an instant the squatter was upon his 
 feet, and turning toward the bowlder said : " Them's 
 In j ins ! Gimme my gun ! " 
 
 " Indians ! " The word sent a cold shiver through 
 Oscar's relaxed muscles ; but in spite of what he had 
 been saying of himself his fingers tightened about the 
 revolver. His wrist and arm were strong and steady. 
 He stood as firmly on his feet as ever in his life, and 
 calmly and sternly replied : " You stay where you are ! 
 I can empty your gun as well as you can." 
 
 " Ef they lift your scalp 'tain't none o' my funeral," 
 he muttered, and at that moment Charlie's voice 
 sounded in a boisterous " Halloo ! " as he came over 
 the brow of the hill, leading the mule. 
 
 " Is that all you've struck, pard ? " he exclaimed. 
 " I thought ye must 'a' hit out a schooner load an' 
 wus waitin' fur help. Whar's the kid? " 
 
 " Watchin' out," muttered the squatter, bobbing his 
 head in the direction of the bowlder. 
 
 While Charlie and the squatter were placing the 
 deer on the mule's back Oscar removed the cartridges 
 from the double-barrel, loaded his own and joined the 
 rest as though he had really been on guard for Indians. 
 
 Sullen and silent as usual the squatter led the way 
 back to the sod house, with the lead line over one 
 shoulder and the empty gun over the other. His dog 
 kept at his heels, snarling every time he caught sight
 
 A DOUBTFUL HOST. 211 
 
 of Panza. Charlie walked beside him, making an oc- 
 casional remark, and Oscar followed a few feet be- 
 hind the mule, his rifle over his shoulder, but cocked 
 and ready to be brought into position on the slightest 
 provocation. Panza brought up the rear. 
 
 All was safe at the stable, and seeing the door 
 locked again they entered the house. The fire burned 
 low. The squaw sat on the floor before it. A candle, 
 stuck in the neck of a bottle, stood on the table. The 
 squatter left his roer as before, beside the door, but 
 Charlie kept his rifle in his hand, and walking across 
 the room threw it into an upper bunk directly opposite 
 the door, following it himself without taking off his 
 boots. " Hop up in the top one, kid," he said to 
 Oscar, pointing to bunks nearer the fire, and turned 
 over as though he meant to be asleep in an instant. 
 
 Oscar took his rifle as Charlie had, and was very 
 glad that it occurred to Panza to follow him, and lie 
 on the outside edge of the bunk. He did not believe 
 that he should be able to shut his eyes all night, but 
 there vva^ a sense of security in the big shaggy form 
 and regular breathing of Panza, and the next thing 
 Oscar knew Charlie was saying, in a sharp, decided 
 way, " Look a-here, pard, ef yer goin' ter take a look 
 at yer mules, I reckon me an' the kid'll have a squint 
 at our hosses, same lick." 
 
 Oscar was wide awake in an instant, and out of his 
 bunk ready for action, almost as soon as Charlie. It
 
 212 A DOUBTFUL HOST. 
 
 was still dark, but he could distinguish the burly form 
 of the squatter by the door, with his boots in one hand 
 and gun in the other. 
 
 " Hain't no great need o' turnin' the hull camp in- 
 side out," he replied, laying down his gun. " Thought 
 I heered a sound as mought be Injins. But ef ye're 
 so anxious to do the lookin' fur yerselves, why, I'll 
 turn in ag'in." 
 
 "Ef it's Injins, pard, yer kin rest easy. We've 
 got a cur along as hates 'um like pizen, an' smells 'um 
 a mile away ag'in' the wind. But I say, pard," Charlie 
 added, lighting a match and looking at his watch, " ef 
 the sun's on time this morning she'll be along in an 
 hour. Jest shy over the key afore ye drop off, an' 
 we'll be fixin' up ter light out." 
 
 The mere rude frontier combination of dialects 
 which Charlie had assumed was so thoroughly consist- 
 ent with the surroundings, that after his first surprise 
 Oscar could easily have forgotten that it was not his 
 natural mode, and could very easily have fallen into it 
 himself ; but what won his constant surprise and ad- 
 miration was the cool and dictatorial way in which 
 Charlie deliberately took the management of every- 
 thing into his own hands. There was nothing in his 
 tone or manner that could provoke such a reply as the 
 squatter had made to Oscar, when he ordered him to 
 cut the deer's throat, yet with every sentence there 
 was something which said as plainly as a loaded six-
 
 A DOUBTFUL HOST. 213 
 
 shooter, " This must be done, and done quickly, or" 
 and it was done. 
 
 The old fellow threw the key on the table, gave the 
 squaw a savage shake, told her to get up and build 
 the fire, and then got into the bunk again and pulled 
 the blanket over his head. 
 
 As they went out Charlie motioned to Oscar to re- 
 main by the open door, just out of range from the 
 bunk, while he went to the stable, fed and watered 
 the horses, saddled them and strapped their share of 
 the deer meat upon the pack. 
 
 Breakfast was a silent act of duty, and even long 
 after they were on the trail again Charlie was absent- 
 minded and constantly looking back. 
 
 "You don't think he will follow us, do you?" 
 Oscar asked, with a decided shiver. 
 
 " I am very sure that he will," Charlie replied. 
 " He did not say good-by, which looked very much as 
 if he intended to see us again. He has set his heart 
 on having these horses, and it is my opinion that he 
 will get them, too, before to-morrow morning." 
 
 " He will get them ! How ? " Oscar gasped, clutch- 
 ing the rein and instinctively laying his hand on his 
 revolver. 
 
 " I don't know. I wish I did," Charlie replied. 
 " Trade is dull on the trail now, and three good horses 
 are not going to be let slip. There's a ranch some- 
 where or other, for there's a prairie post-office, there
 
 214 A DOUBTFUL HOST. 
 
 where the trail leaves the stage route again. If we 
 should strike that we might work it all right, but if 
 we don't we shall hear from him before this time to- 
 morrow in a way that means business ; for he knows 
 us, now, and he'll be prepared." 
 
 Oscar looked ahead where Charlie pointed, but the 
 only sign of humanity which he could see was a post, 
 set in the ground, with a small box, apparently, fas- 
 tened to the top. 
 
 " A prairie post-office ? " he repeated. 
 
 " Yes," Charlie replied. " Maybe the ranch has 
 moved away. Maybe it's for some squatter out on 
 this trail ; but that is the nearest that the stage goes 
 to something or other, and if there are any letters for 
 that point the driver leaves them in that box." 
 
 " If it should be another squatter we're not much 
 better off," Oscar added a moment later. 
 
 "That depends," Charlie replied quickly. "They 
 used to say at home that it never worked to judge of 
 a church by the man in the pulpit or the fellows in the 
 best pews. Squatters are all of them a rather solemn 
 set, especially when they have Indian squaws. The 
 life they lead is solemn ; but you'll find many a true 
 man and a good friend in a squatter's shanty. What's 
 that on the top of the post-office? " 
 
 " It's something hanging on a stick." 
 
 "Yes; it's a signal of some sort," Charlie added, 
 giving a searching glance in every direction. He
 
 A DOUBTFUL HOST. 217 
 
 hurried forward, and Oscar, following close behind, 
 heard him exclaim, " By Jimmy ! " as he rode up and 
 pulled it down. 
 
 Oscar knew Charlie well enough by this time to be 
 sure that his favorite expletive was caused by a pleas- 
 ant surprise, but when he looked over his shoulder he 
 found him examining a square piece of bark, contain- 
 ing only some rude figures roughly drawn by an 
 Indian. He passed it to Oscar remarking, " This is 
 addressed to you, and I suppose I should not have 
 read it." 
 
 " To me ! " Oscar exclaimed, looking up in aston- 
 ishment. " What do you mean?" 
 
 Charlie turned the bark over, and on the opposite 
 side Oscar saw a half-circle and dash plainly drawn 
 with a charred stick. " That was a J^ery wise precau- 
 tion," Charlie observed. " To people in these parts 
 not familiar with the ranges, it means nothing. To 
 you and me it means ' Mr. Oscar Peterson, Ranchman, 
 of Manitoba.' " 
 
 Oscar stared in blank astonishment ; for if there is 
 an incident more startling than hearing one's name 
 pronounced when hundreds of miles from any acquaint- 
 ance, it is to find a letter addressed to one's self out 
 upon a prairie trail, under similar circumstances. 
 
 Seeing his surprise, Charlie continued : " Have you 
 forgotten what I told you that you had a loyal 
 Indian friend who was keeping track of you, and that
 
 218 A DOUBTFUL HOST. 
 
 you would probably hear from him again ? Much as 
 I hate them I will say that a better, truer, more reliable 
 and self-sacrificing friend cannot be found than an 
 Indian who feels that he has a debt of gratitude to 
 pay. This fellow is all-fired smart, too, I tell you." 
 
 "But, Charlie, I tell you I have 110 such friend, 
 any way," Oscar insisted, " and if I had, what does he 
 mean by this ? " 
 
 " That's the question. Let's give it another look," 
 Charlie replied. " I'm not much on Indian writing, 
 but I reckon I know as much about it as an Indian. 
 He knew your name, and could write in English if he 
 wanted to, but this was to be left where it might be 
 seen, so he put it Indian fashion, which shows that the 
 people he was afraid to have see it were pale faces 
 and not Indians. That's meant for a tomahawk stick- 
 ing in a stump. That is a danger, signal ; as common 
 as a red light on a railroad. Then that crossed line, 
 open at the top, means a white man, and those three 
 mean there are three of them. Those wiggled lines 
 are trees. That's an open eye, and that circle means 
 the Great Spirit. That line under the trees I'm not 
 sure yes, that means a gulch. There ! That's all 
 I can make out of it." 
 
 "Does it make any sense? " Oscar asked. 
 
 "Why, certainly ! Don't you see? There is dan- 
 ger ahead, in the shape of three white men, in a patch 
 of woods, running through a gulch. Their eyes are
 
 A DOUBTFUL HOST. 219 
 
 open ; that is, they are on the watch, and our only 
 hope is in God." 
 
 " That sounds pretty serious," Oscar said. 
 
 " I reckon it sounds about as it is," Charlie replied. 
 "But coine on. It will not help the matter any to 
 stop here." 
 
 " Indians are bad enough. I don't want to meet 
 any more white men on the war path this trip," Oscar 
 muttered, as they started on. " It is simply outra- 
 geous ! With all respect for you, Charlie, I believe 
 the cowboys, as a class, have demoralized the whole 
 frontier life of our continent." 
 
 " You're snapping just about the same kind of 
 judgment that you did at squatters because you came 
 across a fellow who looked like a squatter and lived 
 like one and aimed his gun at you," Charlie replied, 
 with a little show of dignity. Changing his mood in 
 an instant, however, he continued: "Well, Oscar, 
 you're only making a mistake which hundreds of wise 
 men have made before you ; the mistake of thinking 
 that every fellow who has a slouch hat and open collar 
 and wears spurs and carries a six-shooter is a cowboy. 
 Whatever such a fellow does is always charged to 
 cowboys. If a drunken bully loses his head in a bar- 
 room and sets his gun going, it is cowboys for sure. 
 If a bunch of rascals gets into a gulch in Dakota and 
 holds up everything that comes along, why, they're 
 cowboys, even before you've set eyes on them. Even
 
 220 A DOUBTFUL HOST. 
 
 if a tenderfoot gets himself mixed up with them some- 
 time, and is treated like a gentleman, whether he is 
 one or not, and discovers for himself that in reality, 
 as a class, the cowboys of the West are the best set of 
 fellows on the face of this earth, loving law and order 
 as much as they do a roaring good time, and hating 
 rascals 'specially horse thieves and Indians when 
 he gets home again what does he do ? tell the truth 
 about them ? No. He just goes about boasting of 
 what a marvel of courage he is ; that he dared to 
 beard the lion in his den ; that he has grubbed and 
 bunked with real live cowboys, and still lives to tell 
 the tale. Take that gentleman who entertained us 
 last evening. You'd say he was a cowboy who had 
 grown old without making his pile ; that he was 
 ashamed to go back to civilization a pauper ; that he 
 had let his beard grow, taken an Indian squaw to his 
 wigwam, and settled down for the rest of his days as a 
 typical squatter. Hundreds of 'um have done just 
 that, but if you are to sample the lot you must at least 
 have one specimen. That fellow never drove a cow 
 or lived a day by farming or trapping. He's an old 
 buffalo hunter, and they are the worst set of fellows 
 the West has produced. You see, they lived the 
 roughest, wildest, most reckless life that a human 
 being knows, while the buffalo lasted. They made 
 money fast and spent it all each time they took a let 
 up. When buffalo gave out there was nothing the
 
 A DOUBTFUL HOST. 221 
 
 couatry could offer that was wild enough for them. 
 Some of them turned scouts and are running after 
 Indians. Some gave up, clean, and are still lying 
 round cattle towns what there is left of them 
 keeping themselves drunk and making all the trouble 
 they can for cowboys, and a lot of them drifted into 
 the highway business and became professional road 
 agents." 
 
 " What does the fellow we met last night do for 
 a living?" Oscar asked, and Charlie looked up in 
 astonishment, exclaiming: 
 
 " You don't mean to tell me that you did not see 
 through him ? " 
 
 Oscar shook his head, and Charlie continued : " Well, 
 upon my word ! You couldn't have done better if you 
 had. You took hold so easy that I thought you not 
 only caught on at sight, but must have met some 
 friend of the family before." 
 
 " Well, you haven't told me what he was, yet," 
 Oscar remarked, a little impatiently. 
 
 " Why, a road agent of the road agents, my dear 
 fellow. A man who lives by robbing at sight, and 
 killing as quick where it is the easiest way to come 
 at the property," Charlie replied. " He keeps that 
 watering-trough for the stage horses, and any other 
 prairie joggers, which is enough to cover up his tracks. 
 While they are watering up he doubtless takes his 
 inventory. lie's one of a gang I reckon the boss
 
 222 A DOUBTFUL HOST. 
 
 and has a telegraph wire running somewhere, I pre- 
 sume to the gulch this warning speaks of. It's the 
 biggest scheme I ever heard of. I struck the ticker 
 just after you went out last night. I staid behind to 
 get a chance to look round. It was behind the upper 
 bunk, where I lay. That's why I took that bunk. It 
 is an underground wire, and he can keep his pals 
 posted right up to date. See ? I didn't know where 
 it went, but I was bound he shouldn't get a chance to 
 use it. Halloo ! What's that ? " 
 
 "A signpost, I should think," Oscar replied, look- 
 ing forward to where a trail crossed the one they were 
 following at right angles, and a post had been set up 
 with a board across the top. 
 
 Charlie laughed. "Signboards would be a new 
 luxury in these parts. I reckon Uncle Sam don't 
 waste that much lumber to tell the Indians the way to 
 their reservations." 
 
 " What is it, then ? " Oscar asked. 
 
 " Time enough to see when we get there," Charlie 
 replied, " and it's high time we took a rest and grubbed 
 up. We sha'n't be troubled till we get into the gulch, 
 I reckon, and we might as well lay in one more good 
 feed while we can ; but let's be quick about it, for I 
 should dreadfully like to get through those woods be- 
 fore it's pitch dark." 
 
 " What's that in the grass by the post ? " Oscar 
 asked.
 
 A DOUBTFUL HOST. 223 
 
 Charlie shaded his eyes and looked for a moment, 
 then muttered : " An Indian. Bother their red skins ! 
 It's a little fellow, though. I wonder if his pa is 
 round," and he looked carefully in every direction. 
 " I don't see any signs of more, but, plague take them ! 
 a whole tribe will hide behind a grain of sand or a 
 single stalk of golden-rod." 
 
 There were no more about, however, as they drew 
 nearer. The little fellow was simply lying in the 
 grass, idly sunning himself, and a moment later their 
 attention was absorbed by the board nailed upon the 
 post. 
 
 " Look at that for a sign, will you?" Charlie said, 
 as they rode up to it. And Oscar did look, with all 
 his eyes.
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 DEAD OR ALIVE. 
 
 " DEAD or alive ! " Oscar read with a shudder, as 
 he wheeled his horse about in front of the sign they 
 had been watching. 
 
 "Dead or alive," Charlie repeated as he came into 
 position to read. 
 
 Seeing that there was to be a halt, Panza started at 
 a furious run after a rabbit, the moment she could 
 drop the lead line, and no one paid the slightest atten- 
 tion to the little Indian who was lying in the grass 
 beside the post as they approached. 
 
 It was the first time that Oscar had ever seen such 
 a sign, or been brought face to face with a grim offer of 
 gold for a human body, dead or alive. With quiver- 
 ing breath he read the description of three desperadoes 
 who had been the terror of the district so long that 
 this measure was at last resorted to, and dead or alive 
 one thousand dollars in gold was offered for each of 
 them, with five hundred extra for the leader. 
 
 224
 
 DEAD OK ALIVE. 225 
 
 " I should hate to be in one of those fellows' boots," 
 Oscar said as he finished' reading, " and I should ever- 
 lastingly hate to meet them. Do you suppose there's 
 any danger of their venturing within a hundred miles 
 of this sign ? " 
 
 " I'm sorry to take away your appetite," Charlie re- 
 plied, " but perhaps it will help you to appreciate how 
 I feel about Indians. I am inclined to think that 
 these are the very fellows who are waiting for us in 
 the gulch." 
 
 " Can't we go round it some way ? " Oscar asked, 
 feeling his heart throbbing as he spoke. 
 
 " It's probably some gulch where there isn't much 
 show to go around," Charlie replied. " If a stage 
 should come along we might get through all right, but 
 to tell you the honest truth I don't believe that there 
 is one chance in ten for us, if we have to try it alone." 
 
 u You don't think the fellow at the sod house had 
 anything to do with these, do you ? " Oscar asked. 
 
 " It is my impression that he is the fifteen hundred 
 dollar man, himself, if any one only looked into the 
 matter," Charlie replied. 
 
 For a moment it almost took Oscar's breath away, 
 but recovering himself he said, " Well, I can tell you 
 one thing : he's a big coward, any way." 
 
 " That's true enough," Charlie remarked, in an ab- 
 sent-minded way. " All road agents are cowards. It 
 takes a coward to go into the business, in the first
 
 226 DEAD OR ALIVE. 
 
 place, and it is a kind of occupation that would make 
 a coward of a man precious quick if he wasn't one at 
 the start. But the meanest and most dangerous skunk 
 that crawls is the coward who has the best of you and 
 knows it." 
 
 " Then what are we to do ? " Oscar asked. 
 
 It was some time before Charlie replied ; then he 
 simply said : " I do not know. You have a mission to 
 perform, and a long and useful life ahead of you. It 
 is outrageous to run the risk that we shall have to in 
 that gulch, against such contemptible odds, and all to 
 no purpose. If we turn back, there is the sod house 
 to pass again. If we go to the west on this other trail 
 there will be nothing but Indians. The trails east and 
 south both lead through the gulch. You must take 
 your choice, and I am with you for all that I am worth, 
 the moment that you set the course." 
 
 Oscar thought it over for a moment, and very ear- 
 nestly but calmly replied : " We started for Dead- 
 wood, and Deadwood is that way. Let's have some 
 grub and go on." 
 
 " Good enough ! " Charlie responded, with an en- 
 thusiasm which showed that he was much better satis- 
 fied with that decision than any other. " When they 
 overhaul us, if we have the shadow of a show we'll 
 make the most of it. - If not we'll give in so quickly 
 that it will take their breath away, and see what that 
 will do."
 
 DEAD OR ALIVE. 229 
 
 " You don't mean that you would give in to them 
 while you had a breath of life left, do you ? " Oscar 
 exclaimed, indignantly. 
 
 " With all my heart, I do," Charlie replied, with 
 a smile. " If they get a bead on me and my shooter 
 isn't handy, they have the drop and can do as they 
 please for the time being. It's my only show for pre- 
 senting a bill of damages later on. Now let's eat 
 something and feed the horses quickly. We shall 
 need every glimmer of daylight before it is done." 
 
 "Where's Panza?" Oscar exclaimed, dismounting, 
 looking about in every direction and whistling. 
 
 " I saw her start off after a rabbit as we came up. 
 She's all right. Her nose will bring her back," Charlie 
 remarked, carelessly, and then looking quickly about 
 him, he added: " Where is that Indian boy? Seems 
 to me he's cleared out in a rather sudden way. Plague 
 take the red skins ! We don't want any more of a 
 muss than we're in now. I'd like to kick myself for 
 forgetting to watch him." 
 
 " There's only one way he could have gone, and 
 that's into those low hills. If Panza were here we'd 
 soon find out," Oscar replied a little reproachfully, 
 and whistled again, but there was no response. 
 
 "If it wasn't that the horses have got to eat, we 
 wouldn't stop," Charlie remarked as he took his rifle 
 from the saddle and leaned it against the post. " We 
 won't take off the saddles."
 
 230 DEAD OR ALIVE. 
 
 Oscar mechanically followed his example. He was 
 too anxious about Panza to think what he was doing. 
 
 The horses quickly took the hint and began to feed. 
 The lead line of the pack horse was dragging. Chailie 
 took it up and was throwing it over the animal's neck 
 when he exclaimed : " Halloo ! What's this ? " 
 
 Oscar turned in nervous haste to see him pulling a 
 strip of shaving from the rope, where it was fastened 
 to the horse. 
 
 In dark red letters, plainly traced, they read: "No 
 stop minute here. Heap bad pale face close by. 
 Woods empty. Hurry fast." 
 
 " That's blood, and it's still wet," Charlie muttered. 
 " To your horse, Oscar. Be quick." 
 
 He caught the lead line in his hand, but before 
 either of them could move, a deep voice, not far behind 
 them, shouted : 
 
 " Hands up, or you drop ! " 
 
 Oscar's hand made a dash for his pistol, but quick 
 as thought Charlie caught it with a grip like iron, and 
 forced it up, saying in a low, stern voice, " Hold up 
 your hands and keep still, or we're gone." 
 
 It was in that peculiar tone which, irrespective of 
 grammar or dialect, demanded obedience, and Oscar 
 obeyed. Charlie's hands were up, too, but Oscar 
 noticed that he had dropped the shaving and was 
 grinding it into the earth with his foot. 
 
 The voice had sounded from behind, and as they
 
 DEAD Oil ALIVE. 231 
 
 turned, with their hands up, they discovered the 
 masked heads and the shoulders of three men, ten feet 
 apart, less than a hundred feet away from them, half- 
 hidden in the grass, and evidently protruding from 
 holes dug for the purpose. In a line from each one, 
 through the grass, there shone the subtle shimmer of a 
 rifle. 
 
 " See that double-barrel on the right ? " Charlie mut- 
 tered in a low voice. " That's our friend. J thought 
 we should see him again." Then aloud and with a 
 reckless laugh he shouted : " Halloo ! there, coyotes ! 
 Come out o' yer skunk holes an' scoop yer boodle. 
 Our arms ain't much, 'customcd ter hangin' toward the 
 sky, an' they'll git ter aikiu' bloomiu' quick an' may 
 drop on our shooters." 
 
 The voice of their late host sounded in reply, " Jest 
 you shift yerselves over so's we kin blow daylight 
 through ye, 'out stuffin' the horses." 
 
 With a boisterous laugh Charlie leaned back against 
 the pack horse, calling, "Fire away! Don't be 
 skeered ! I'm tougher'n ye think fur, an' you hain't 
 got no gun-fodder thet kin find its way through me ter 
 start a hoss t'other side. But yer want ter look alive, 
 now, fur we ain't a-goin' ter hold our hands up all 
 day, not fur a regiment sech es you. You kin jest 
 dispense with further preliminaries an' git in yer licks 
 pesky lively. Ef it's the outfit yer arter you've got 
 the bulge on us, an' we hollers, so take it an' be gone.
 
 232 DEAD OR ALIVE. 
 
 But ef it's target shootin', we're with ye. Empty 
 them four bar'ls ye've got atween ye, an' see whar yer 
 fetch up. If thar's ten seconds o' breathiri' space left 
 in eraone o' us, it's mighty likely ter be the last time 
 thet some o' you fellers runs his eye along a rifle bar'l. 
 Speak up quick, now. Biz is biz, an' it's gettin' late. 
 Will you take the outfit an' leave us without a scratch, 
 or will you clean yer guns an' take the consequences ? " 
 
 For a moment there was a consultation in a low 
 tone, when the voice replied, " Well, pard, sence yer 
 make the offer, p'raps we'll put up with the outfit." 
 
 "Do ye gin yer word of honor, not a scratch?" 
 Charlie asked, in the same cool, jovial way. 
 
 " Honor bright," the man replied, and Charlie 
 called : 
 
 "Let her go, then ! The outfit's yours." 
 
 One of the men came out of his hole, and deftly and 
 swiftly relieved them of their pistols, cartridge belts, 
 knives and watches, laughing and joking with Charlie 
 all the time. 
 
 " Got some rope handy, pard, thet I kin use ter 
 anchor ye outer thet hitchin' post ? " the man asked, 
 nodding toward the post which held the notice offering 
 a thousand dollars for his body, dead or alive. 
 
 "What do ye take us fur ?" Charlie responded. 
 " Think we're bull- whackers, ter carry a rope on our 
 saddles ? Mebby yell find a piece on the pack sad- 
 dle, but ye'll want ter save out 'nough ter tow the
 
 DEAD OR ALIVE. 233 
 
 youngster's boss with, fur thar ain't none on ye kin 
 straddle him." 
 
 Oscar's heart seemed ready to break as he stood 
 there holding up his hands for that ruffian. He was 
 acting under Charlie's orders, without any cowardice 
 in his nature to help him out. He thought of Panza 
 and Sancho, and of his own bitter humiliation, and it 
 required more courage and self-control to stand there 
 than it would to have caught his pistol and faced the 
 whole of them. 
 
 " Hurry up, now," Charlie exclaimed, as the other 
 two men came up. " It's more than a feller's life is 
 worth ter hang round this way too long. Farsten us 
 outer the post an' git out. I'm in a hurry ter be on 
 my way ag'in." 
 
 The men all laughed at this ; and as they tied their 
 hands and feet, and then tied them back to back, with 
 the post between them, one of them remarked : " I 
 reckon ye won't travel fur from here fur one while. 
 Folks isn't frequent goiu' this way, these days, an' 
 yer'll have ter wait till some one comes along." 
 
 " What 'bout Injins ? " Charlie asked. 
 
 " Don't know nor care," their host replied, with a 
 surly grunt. " We hain't made no promises fur 
 nobody but ourselves." 
 
 " Thar, Capt'n Bill," said one of the men, when the 
 work was finished and they stepped back to look at 
 it, " that's a putty pair o' witnesses ter the above-
 
 234 DEAD OR ALIVE. 
 
 mentioned notice. It'll look well in Eastern papers, 
 won't it ? * Two fellers cleaned out, an' lef ' tied to a 
 notice offerin' three thousand five hundred dollars in 
 cold cash, fur the heads o' them as did it.' ' 
 
 They all burst into a loud laugh, and the one ad- 
 dressed as Captain Bill, the man who carried the roer, 
 took a quid of tobacco from his mouth and threw it at 
 the notice, saying, " My compliments ter the men as 
 backs it with their gold." 
 
 " Good shot," muttered another man. " It struck 
 clean on yer own pictur. Be keerful ye don't go throw 
 it in yer own face instead o' their'n, by some slip." 
 
 With that they turned away. 
 
 Three times one of them tried to mount Sancho and 
 failed. Then he gave up in despair. 
 
 "Nevermind," said Captain Bill. "Straddle the 
 other one and lead the two. We'll go down an' git 
 the mules an' meet yer by the brook." 
 
 Sancho still rebelled, but as the other two horses 
 moved away he reluctantly yielded. The man was 
 careful not to injure him, for he thought much more 
 of the value of horse-flesh than humanity. Oscar 
 ground his teeth till the men had turned away. Then 
 great, bitter tears came crowding from his eyes and 
 down his cheeks to fall upon his shirt. He was glad 
 that Charlie's back was toward him, so that he could 
 not see him cry. He would have been more aston- 
 ished than he was by the rifles of the highwaymen, if
 
 DEAD OR ALIVK. 235 
 
 his own back had not been turned ; if he could have 
 looked behind him and seen the blood-shot eyes and 
 the bronzed cheeks wet with tears on the other side of 
 the post. 
 
 Charlie's voice was husky, but Oscar did not suspect 
 the cause, as he said cheerfully : " Well, we're much 
 better out of it than I expected. I didn't suppose 
 they'd keep their promise after they'd once got our 
 guns, and I surely thought they'd take our coats and 
 boots ; I reckon they have another job on hand and 
 were in a hurry. Tell me when they're out of sight, 
 and we'll begin." 
 
 " For mercy's sake, begin what, Charlie ? " Oscar 
 asked, in a choking voice. 
 
 " Begin getting ready to recover our outfit, and 
 collect a bill for damages," Charlie muttered. 
 
 " Do you suppose there's any way that I can ever 
 get Sancho back ? " Oscar asked, wholly unable to 
 comprehend Charlie's words. 
 
 " Keep up your courage, my dear fellow," Charlie 
 responded. " I don't suppose anything about it, now. 
 I know that if I live to see you reach Deadwood, it 
 will be on Sancho's back, with three thousand five 
 hundred dollars worth of human flesh rounded up, 
 alive or dead, in front of you. Now then. Can you 
 push against this post without hurting you ? " 
 
 " Of course I can, but I can't do anything else," 
 Oscar replied.
 
 236 DEAD OR ALIVE. 
 
 " That's enough for now," said Charlie, cheerfully. 
 " I will count ' One, two.' You push on one and I 
 will push back on two. We'll work the post loose in 
 no time and lift it out from between us, see ? " 
 
 " What fools those fellows were ! " Oscar exclaimed, 
 as they stood, at last, free, hand and foot. But the 
 moment so much was gained, he thought of his two 
 friends again, and anxiously asked, " Do you think 
 that they killed Panza ? " v 
 
 " We can look around their holes and see," Charlie 
 responded, walking out in that direction. " If they 
 did it was with a knife, and she'll be close by. I 
 rather think, though, that your little Indian was at the 
 bottom of that." 
 
 " Who was he, any way ? " Oscar muttered, thinking 
 of a possibility that the Indian had carried Panza off, 
 and forgetting the rest. 
 
 " You'd know, Oscar, if you'd put on your think- 
 ing cap," Charlie replied ; " but look at those holes. 
 They're the neatest idea I ever struck. They've been 
 used before. I tell you that gang has got things 
 down fine. No ; Panza is not here. That settles that, 
 any way." 
 
 " I tell you, Charlie, that I don't know anything 
 about that Indian. What makes you keep saying so ? " 
 Oscar exclaimed. 
 
 " Why, it's this way," Charlie said, lying down in 
 the grass. " That piece of shaving was precisely the
 
 DEAD OK ALIVE. 237 
 
 same as he used for the first message, and the writing 
 was the same. He wrote it with his blood, this time, 
 because he was in haste and had no burned sticks 
 handy. He did it himself, and after we came up, for 
 it was wet when I found it. He left the message this 
 morning, thinking that the fellows would be in the 
 gulch. When he discovered that they were here, 
 there was nothing for him to do but lie round and 
 warn us, if we were fools enough to stop over that 
 notice. Jiminy ! what a nerve that little fellow had 
 to lie down and wait right in range of three rifles, 
 when he knew he wasn't wanted, and that those fel- 
 lows would have shot him as quickly as they would a 
 rat. He knew we had the dog along, and that his 
 smeller might work the mischief, for our only chance 
 was to slip by in a hurry without noticing them, so he 
 caught that rabbit over in the hills, and the moment 
 we stopped, let him loose under Panza's nose. That 
 disposed of her. I thought it was a queer place for a 
 rabbit to be roosting, and I wondered when he started 
 up that he hadn't left before. Now I have studied it 
 out. Well, the next thing was to warn us. If he had 
 done it openly it would have been sure death to the 
 whole of us, without a whisper, just as bad as if Panza 
 had struck on them. He did the best he could, and if 
 we had found that notice before we had laid down our 
 rifles and left our saddles, I think we should have es- 
 caped. Now he is no friend of mine, so he must be a
 
 238 DEAD OR ALIVE. 
 
 friend of yours. And all I've got to say is that one 
 such little hero is enough to lift the whole red skin 
 race more than one peg in my estimation. I shall 
 think twice before I shoot another Indian, God bless 
 him ! " 
 
 " Charlie," Oscar said earnestly, " I know you're 
 wrong, some way, for I haven't got such a friend, and 
 I don't deserve one. I never did a real kind turn for 
 any one. But I will, if I live. You see if I don't." 
 
 " Just now I'm more anxious to see something else," 
 Charlie replied, rising and walking toward the post. 
 " ' Captain Bill ' is what they called the fellow from 
 the sod house, and they said he hit his own picture 
 with that tobacco. I'm ready to bet my boots that I 
 was right when I told you he was the fifteen hundred 
 dollar man. There ! Look at that ! There's no 
 guess work about it now. Let's set her up again. 
 It'll make good reading for others, and literature is 
 scarce in these parts." 
 
 As they dropped the post into the hole again Charlie 
 added, " To-morrow at this time, that offer will be 
 obsolete, or I shall have handed in my checks." Then 
 throwing himself on the ground beside the post, he 
 stretched, yawned, and smiling at Oscar's anxious face 
 said : " Sit down and take life easy wjiile you can. 
 There's no use watching out when we've nothing to 
 fight with. There's no good in being hungry when 
 we've nothing to eat. There's no sense in anything
 
 DEAD OR ALIVE. 239 
 
 but being tired when the only thing you can do is 
 rest ; and without one atom of slang 1 , I can very truly 
 say that those fellows made me tired." 
 
 " I wish I knew about Panza," Oscar said as he sat 
 down. 
 
 " Well, I wish I was half as sure that you would 
 reach Deadwood all right as I am that she will turn 
 up," Charlie replied. " To tell the truth, I'm rather 
 glad she stays away, for I'm pretty sure the little 
 Indian has got her, and if he has, he's hunting for 
 some way to lend us a hand. I'm not particularly 
 good natured with myself for hating his folks the way 
 I have." 
 
 " Supposing you're right, Charlie, how could he 
 have got here ? He surely didn't follow us by rail," 
 Oscar said. 
 
 " Well, if the Mennonites told him we were going 
 to Bismarck he might have thought that he could help 
 us through the Indian country and started in. Then 
 if he found we left the trail for Pernbina, the amount 
 of common sense he has displayed would have sug- 
 gested that we were going by rail, and if he was tough 
 and his pony tougher, he could have cut across and 
 reached there before us. Don't you remember my 
 speaking of a lank little Indian boy who kept dodging 
 us at Bismarck " 
 
 " And how Panza knew him, and I didn't believe 
 it? " Oscar interrupted.
 
 240 DEAD OR ALIVE. 
 
 " Look there ! " Charlie whispered, suddenly lifting 
 his head and pointing down the trail which led into 
 the hills, in the only direction where the prairie was 
 broken ; for in spite of his apparent carelessness the 
 habit to "watch out " was strong. 
 
 " A horse ! " Oscar exclaimed, springing to his 
 feet. "An Indian pony! Without a rider! And 
 Charlie ! For mercy's sake ! It is it's Panza 
 leading him." 
 
 " God bless that little Indian ! " Charlie said ear- 
 nestly, as he rose to his feet. " Yes ; I thought so. 
 That's the same white pony that we saw in Manitoba, 
 only he's pretty well jaded now, for he's seen hard 
 times." 
 
 Panza had become an expert leader, and was soon 
 beside them. She had evidently been restrained by 
 force, for her collar was torn and scratched, but she 
 was beginning to comprehend, and very humbly licked 
 Oscar's hand as if to atone for bad behavior. 
 
 Upon the pony's back was strapped a simple Indian 
 blanket, and fastened to the strap were a rifle, six- 
 shooter and double cartridge belt. 
 
 " Those were my father's," Oscar cried, as he 
 caught sight of them. " See ! His initials ! " 
 
 " Well, what do you think about your Indian 
 now ? " Charlie asked. " And here is something," he 
 added, pulling a folded strip of brown paper from a 
 slit cut in the blanket. " The dear little thief stole
 
 DEAD Oil ALIVK. 241 
 
 this from the wrapper round our cartridge case when 
 he was at the pack saddle. How did he come by 
 a pencil ? Oh ! I see. He wrote it with a bullet. 
 There's where he wiped off the wax," and leaning back 
 against the pony he read : " Heap bad pale face gone 
 woods. Eat. Sleep. No watch to-night. Indian 
 pony heap strong. Two can ride. Ride fast. Dog 
 find bad pale face. Kill. Kill. Tie Indian pony 
 where water cross trail." 
 
 As he finished reading Charlie brushed his hand 
 quickly across his eyes and muttered, " Mountain 
 Charlie's spoke his last hard word ag'in a red skin, 
 so help me ! " Then he gave a little start, as if to 
 shake himself from the mood that was upon him, and 
 carelessly inquired : " How are these irons for aim, 
 Oscar ? Have you ever tried them ? " 
 
 " I have snuffed a candle at thirty paces, with this 
 rifle," Oscar replied with pride. 
 
 " Good 'nough," Charlie observed. " Then you 
 keep that. Let me give this pistol a try. Take that 
 o in the ' or ' up there." He tossed the heavy six- 
 shooter with a twirl into the air, and as it came down, 
 turning over and over, he caught it, cocked and fired 
 it, before his hand had hardly seemed to touch it, and 
 Oscar looked in blank astonishment at the notice, 
 where a bullet hole appeared in the very center of the 
 o, between " Dead " and " Alive." 
 
 " That'll do," Charlie remarked, as he returned the
 
 242 DEAD OR ALIVE. 
 
 pistol to its case, put a few cartridges in his pocket 
 and gave the belt to Oscar. " Now for the gulch. 
 'Twould be kind of mean to make that little pony 
 carry both of us, but here's an Indian trick." He 
 took the rope which had bound them, made a fast 
 collar at one end and a loop at the other. He threw 
 the collar over the pony's neck and the loop round his 
 own body under his arms. 
 
 "Now, then," he said, "put Panza on Sancho's 
 track, hop up and ride after her as fast as you can get 
 over the ground. We sha'n't be a minute too soon. 
 If I get tired running behind I'll change with you for 
 a while." 
 
 It was after sundown when they saw the irregular 
 outline of trees ahead, with rugged, rising ground on 
 either side, and knew that they were approaching the 
 gulch. 
 
 They were walking, leading the pony, keeping 
 Panza close between them as they entered. 
 
 " It's death or victory this time," Charlie whispered. 
 " If they see us first and give us the hold up just 
 get a bead and fire, quicker than lightning. There's 
 always a chance that they may miss or not kill, at any 
 rate. Take advantage of it in advance." 
 
 " I'll do my best, Charlie," Oscar replied earnestly. 
 
 They reached the brook, crossing the trail, and on 
 the other side Panza seemed at a loss. She could not 
 find the track again.
 
 DEAD OR ALIVE. 243 
 
 ' That's all right," Charlie said, in a low voice. 
 " It's another little game that those fellows work. 
 They leave the trail here and go up in the middle of 
 the stream. They are somewhere on this brook. This 
 is where the Indian wanted his pony left, but I 
 wouldn't tie him yet. You may need him. Keep 
 close to him and keep Panza with you. If I want 
 you I will whistle three times. If there's shooting 
 and it's all right but I don't need you, I'll whistle 
 once. But if you hear a shot and I don't whistle, 
 just follow this trail and make for the other end of 
 the gulch as fast as that pony's legs can fly ; for 
 there'll be nothing you can do for me." 
 
 Oscar caught Charlie by the shoulder. " Do you 
 mean that I am to sit here while you go in ? " he asked. 
 
 " It's the best way. We can't talk about it now. 
 Remember what I say, and fire to kill if any one tries 
 to stop you," Charlie answered hurriedly, trying to 
 push off Oscar's hand. 
 
 " Do you think I will save myself that way ? " 
 Oscar muttered. 
 
 " It's the only way, just now, Oscar," Charlie re- 
 plied. " Your life is much more valuable than mine, 
 and there is no sense in your running this risk." 
 
 Charlie was turning away in spite of him, but Oscar 
 whispered : " Very well. You take one side of the 
 brook and I will take the other. I am going in there 
 with you, Charlie."
 
 244 DEAD OR ALIVE. 
 
 Charlie saw that it was useless dissuading, and 
 waited till the pony was tied, and with Panza again 
 between them, they crept along the brook. 
 
 Any one who has ever made his way through a 
 strange and rocky forest, so dark that he could not 
 see his own hands, can appreciate the difficulty which 
 greeted them ; added to which was the constant possi- 
 bility of stumbling upon a party of sleeping outlaws 
 or walking into their midst to find them wide awake 
 and watching. They did not dare to move out of 
 reach of each other or speak, even in a whisper. 
 
 For fifteen minutes they made their way as rapidly 
 as possible. Many a noise caused Oscar's heart to 
 throb violently, but his hand was steady upon the 
 rifle, and his foot was firm. 
 
 Suddenly Panza began a low growl. Oscar stopped 
 her instantly, and pausing for a moment they listened 
 and looked about them. They had kept by the brook, 
 guided by the sound of the water ; but now, above it, 
 they heard the faint sound of voices, laughing, a little 
 to the right. There was a dense growth of foliage 
 upon that side, but looking into them they could dis- 
 tinguish the glow of a fire dimly reflected on some of 
 the leaves. 
 
 In five minutes more they were beyond the bushes 
 and a wall of rock which inclosed a natural fortress ; 
 a great corral which nature had built there for some 
 better purpose than sheltering desperadoes. Neither
 
 DEAD OR ALIVE. 245 
 
 I 
 
 spoke. It was no time for words. They were in the 
 secret den of the outlaws, and life and death hung 
 upon a single blunder. There was a flat surface two 
 hundred feet in diameter, surrounded by the great wall 
 and hedge. It was completely covered with large trees, 
 and in the center a bright fire was burning. Upon 
 one side of the corral they saw the indistinct figures 
 of the horses and mules, and Oscar had hard work to 
 prevent Panza from making a dash, as he would have 
 been glad to himself, to those dim outlines, knowing 
 that Sancho must be there ; but sitting on the ground, 
 all on one side of the fire, were the three outlaws. A 
 cold shiver van over Oscar as he looked at the grim 
 and ugly unmasked faces. The litter of a camp was 
 scattered about them. They were eating. Captain 
 Bill sat at one end. 
 
 Oscar fell behind to follow Charlie's lead, and 
 cautiously and noiselessly they ci-ept forward among 
 the trees till they reached a point directly opposite, 
 where the three were sitting, with the fire between them. 
 
 " Are you all right, Oscar ? steady and firm ? " 
 Charlie whispered. 
 
 " Yes," was the quiet reply, though in his heart 
 Oscar knew that he was trembling and shivering with 
 fear ; and every time that he looked across those glow- 
 ing coals at the savage faces, illuminated till they 
 seemed to glare and flash with the fire, he felt the 
 cold perspiration gather on his forehead.
 
 246 DEAD OR ALIVE. 
 
 " There's no danger of their seeing us. They can 
 not see five feet beyond the fire. Can you do some 
 fancy shooting to show off?" Charlie asked. 
 
 Oscar could scarcely control his lips to whisper, 
 " I'll do my best." 
 
 " All right. I'll make them think we're a squad of 
 Government scouts. Draw a bead on Captain Bill. 
 You'll find you can line as sure in this light as by the 
 sun. If he goes for his gun when I speak you will 
 have to fire, and fire to kill. I'll look out for the 
 other two. Have an extra cartridge ready to slap in 
 quick if we put in a fancy shot. Are you ready ? " 
 
 " All ready," Oscar gasped, as he stood with his 
 rifle resting against the tree to steady it and his eye 
 along the sight upon a point just below the shoulder 
 of the outlaw. He was stifling choking. His heart, 
 with heavy throbs, seemed to shut his throat so that 
 he could not breathe. 
 
 " If Charlie knew what a coward I am," he thought, 
 as he stood there, quaking, waiting for the fatal word 
 that should disclose their presence, sure that if Cap- 
 tain Bill should so much as look at him he would be 
 utterly helpless. 
 
 Hark ! Was that Charlie's voice ? Clear, firm and 
 loud it shouted : 
 
 " Now then, gentlemen, hands up ! " 
 
 Captain Bill's hands went up like a flash, one of 
 them still holding a tin coffee cup, with a long ladle
 
 DEAD OR ALIVE. 247 
 
 handle. The man next him followed as quickly, 
 dropping 1 a knife ; but the third man made a sudden 
 move and caught a pistol lying beside him. Oscar 
 saw the act, saw the man's thumb cocking the revolver, 
 heard the crash of Charlie's heavy six-shooter, saw the 
 pistol fall and heard a groan and an oath as the man's 
 hands went up, one of them covered with blood. 
 
 " That thumb-will never lift another hammer, sir," 
 came in cool, clear tones from Charlie. " Sorry you 
 obliged us to spoil it, but another motion on your part 
 and we shall be obliged to spoil you, too. To con- 
 vince you, gentlemen, that there is no mistake about 
 this, I will ask you, Captain Bill, to hold that cup 
 steady, on your life. I am going to knock the handle 
 off, and one of the two men who are now covering 
 your heart, will empty out the coffee through a hole 
 in the bottom. Steady, now ; one, two, three ! " 
 
 While Charlie was speaking Oscar raised his rifle 
 till it covered less than two inches of the cup which 
 flashed in the firelight under the outlaw's hand. He 
 noticed that the hand was trembling and aimed as low 
 as he dared. When he saw the flash of Charlie's pis- 
 tol he pulled the trigger ; then, quick as thought, dis- 
 charged the empty cartridge, slipping in a fresh one, 
 and as he lifted his rifle again glanced across the fire 
 to see the handle of the cup dangling in the air, and 
 the bottom completely blown away. Charlie called : 
 
 " You held that well. I think you are not hurt."
 
 248 DEAD OR ALIVE. 
 
 " P'raps I ain't," growled the squatter, with a 
 savage Indian grunt ; " but I don't keer ter hold no 
 more targets fur your fellers to fool away gun-fodder 
 on. What do yer want, any way ? " 
 
 " In the first place," Charlie replied, " I want to 
 say to all of you, gentlemen, that two dead shot cover 
 each one of you, and that if you move one hair you 
 drop, without a word of warning. You understand 
 me, gentlemen ? You are worth just as much cold 
 cash dead as alive, and it will be easier to transport 
 you dead than any other way. Now I have a young 
 man here, Captain, who was coming from Bismarck 
 with a friend, when you and your associates over- 
 hauled him, this afternoon." 
 
 " Curse the kid ! I wish we'd killed him as I said," 
 the outlaw interrupted. 
 
 " Another time, Captain, another time," Charlie re- 
 sponded. " At present he will examine you and your 
 associates and recover his own property and that of 
 his friend. And while you are about it, young man, 
 you may take charge of whatever weapons you come 
 across." 
 
 "Yes, sir," Oscar answered, in a loud voice, and 
 handing Charlie the rifle and some cartridges he 
 started quickly toward the trio. As he stepped into 
 the light his heart failed for an instant ; only long 
 enough to recall the fact that the last time he thought 
 of himself he was calling himself a cringing coward,
 
 DEAD OR ALIVE. 249 
 
 steadying his hand against a tree and saying that if 
 Captain Bill should look at him he would be utterly 
 helpless. From the moment Charlie's voice sounded 
 he had so entirely forgotten himself that he did not 
 know whether his heart had beat or not. 
 
 He began with Captain Bill, for he knew that he 
 should feel much easier to be sure that he had no 
 weapons about him, and he felt the words of encourage- 
 ment that were intended for him as Charlie's voice 
 sounded, commanding the imaginary squad : 
 
 " Stand steady, boys, and drop the first man who 
 moves. It's money in your pockets to accommodate 
 them, if they want to die." 
 
 With the second man Oscar found that the work 
 was much easier, and by the time he had relieved the 
 third he even stopped and carefully bound up the 
 wounded thumb with his handkerchief. 
 
 It required several trips to carry everything to 
 where Charlie was standing guard. When he came 
 with the last Charlie said : " You did that well, young 
 man. A little experience of this sort will not hurt 
 you if you expect to grow up in these parts. The 
 sergeant has a coil of rope and some line. Tie these 
 gentlemen's hands behind their backs, and tie them 
 together by their necks, four feet apart." 
 
 As he spoke he handed Oscar the rope which had 
 already played so many parts that day, and a ball of 
 strong twine from his pocket.
 
 250 DEAD OR ALIVE. 
 
 Returning again, when this was accomplished, Oscar 
 took the position of guard while Charlie with Panza, 
 went in search of the horses. lie found them care- 
 fully corraled and well fed. The moon had crept over 
 the mountains and now shone into the gulch, and by 
 the help of an occasional match, for an instant, he 
 soon had them ready to start ; the mules and pack 
 horse tied together ; the captured arms and ammuni- 
 tion rolled in blankets and strapped upon the saddles. 
 He brought up a pail of water and took the box of 
 crackers from the pack ; a most welcome sight, for 
 they had eaten nothing since breakfast, and when all 
 was yeady, with eyes and ears upon their prisoners, 
 they began their lunch. 
 
 " What are we going to do next ? " Oscar asked. 
 
 " Get out of this gulch right away, if you think 
 you can stand it," Charlie replied. "The fact is, we 
 have not struck their headquarters. This is only a 
 way station. I don't know whether they intended to 
 spend the night here or are simply waiting for some 
 one. It's likely enough there's more than three, you 
 know, and it would be too bad to have another fellow 
 drop in now, and turn the tables back again. They 
 are too easy for* men going to the gallows. They ex- 
 pect to get off in some way, and the quicker we are 
 out of this gulch the better." 
 
 " All right," Oscar replied, grasping his rifle and 
 mounting.
 
 DEAD OR ALIVE. 251 
 
 Charlie took the rifle and belt which the Indian had 
 sent them, with a piece of bacon and some crackers 
 rolled in a blanket, to leave on the pony as they 
 passed. " They must walk first," he whispered, as his 
 last instructions. " You ride about twenty feet be- 
 hind. I'll be close after you leading the pack. Re- 
 member life depends on being quick and sure if there 
 is the shadow of a necessity to fire." 
 
 They filled their shirt fronts with the remaining 
 crackers to eat on the way. Charlie tied the lead line 
 to his saddle and mounted. It was already so light 
 from the moon that had it not been for the fire directly 
 in front of them, the men must surely have been able 
 to see them ; but they had comparatively little to fear 
 from that immediate quarter now. Only on the chance 
 of carrying out the illusion a little farther Charlie 
 called : 
 
 " Attention ! Boys ! All ready ! Now then, gen- 
 tlemen, I must trouble you to stand up." 
 
 They made very slow work of getting on their feet ; 
 but when they were standing at last, Charlie continued : 
 " We are going down the brook to the trail. If one 
 of you speaks or the slightest thing occurs that is out 
 of order, or we have any trouble from outside, you three 
 men will drop in a bunch, before you draw a second 
 breath. Those are orders. Now then, forward ! " 
 
 They reached the trail, and timiing to the right 
 they followed it all night, at that dragging pace which
 
 252 DEAD OR ALIVE. 
 
 the prisoners, with hands tied, necessitated. Every 
 shadow seemed some friend of their captives coming to 
 rescue them. Every sound suggested Indians ready 
 to murder the whole of them. It seemed to Oscar 
 the longest night he had ever known. It was almost 
 morning when they emerged from the gulch upon 
 a broken prairie land, and even then the lagging day- 
 light would not come. There was not a cabin, hut or 
 tepee anywhere, or any sign of life ; nothing but the 
 twisting trail, forever winding away in front of them, 
 as far as the eye could reach. 
 
 At last the sun came up, however, and far ahead of 
 them Oscar saw a better beaten path joining the trail, 
 and knew that it must be the stage route they were 
 looking for. By the time they reached it the prisoners 
 could scarcely stand or drag one foot after the other, 
 and humanity forced Charlie to abandon the wisest 
 course, and call a halt. 
 
 It was the first word which had been spoken since 
 they left the brook and took the trail. The men were 
 thoroughly exhausted, and instantly dropped upon the 
 ground, while Oscar quickly untied their hands, and 
 tied their feet together instead. They might have re- 
 fused to go farther long before, but for the reminder 
 that the price upon their heads was " dead or alive," 
 and the impression that their captors needed very little 
 excuse to take advantage of the fact ; in which they 
 were judging others by themselves.
 
 DEAD OR ALIVE. 
 
 253 
 
 Charlie sat in his saddle, rifle in hand, while tke 
 work was going on, then said, " Now, Oscar,' you did 
 it all last night, and if you'll stand guard this morning 
 I will see what I can do." 
 
 A fire was soon burning, venison was roasting, coffee 
 was boiling, and bacon frying, and half of their re- 
 maining supply of flour and meal was mixed for 
 prairie pancakes. After breakfast Cljarlie took the 
 
 ' i i i ' /'',"' !-'' --,i i , 
 
 1 ' > ii ' J ' ,, , ' v 1 
 
 THEY EMEKGED FBOM THE GULCH. 
 
 watch, telling Oscar to roll up without delay and 
 sleep. For a moment he demurred, but he did not 
 realize that Charlie had lain awake all night in the 
 sod house as well, and he easily yielded, for his eyes 
 would hardly keep open, even for breakfast. As he 
 stretched out upon the ground, with his rifle beside 
 him, and drew a blanket over his face, he heard 
 Charlie say : 
 
 " Well, fellers, the best I kin do for yer is ter say 
 flop over on yer backs and go ter sleep," and he felt
 
 254 DEAD OR ALIVE. 
 
 a cold shiver as Captain Bill's voice sounded for the 
 first time, asking : 
 
 " Whar's the rest o' yer regemunt ? " 
 
 " There's enough of it here ter manage you fellers," 
 Charlie replied, with a laugh. 
 
 " Do you tell me that you two kittens wus alone, 
 and bagged us three old rats?" the squatter asked, 
 in blank astonishment. 
 
 " That's about the size of it," Charlie answered. 
 
 Oscar was peeking from under his blanket, and in 
 spite of his tired muscles and sleepy eyes he laughed 
 aloud as the sullen old outlaw gave one powerful grunt 
 and lay down. 
 
 Charlie began his watch, and a tough one it was. 
 Every one about him was soundly sleeping. Even 
 Panza was stretched at full length on the ground, and 
 the horses and mules were all asleep. The sun was 
 hot. The sky was without a cloud. Sometimes it 
 seemed utterly impossible to keep awake, and as he 
 walked steadily up and down beside the prisoners he 
 more than once stumbled, and roused himself to find 
 that he had been tramping in his sleep. 
 
 At last he yielded to the temptation to look at 
 his watch. Four hours had dragged themselves away 
 since Oscar lay down. He- made up his mind that he 
 must c ; all him at the next turn. There was no help 
 for it. But one of the prisoners started up, with a 
 cry. He was simply dreaming, but it roused Charlie
 
 DEAD OR ALIVE. 255 
 
 from his stupor in an instant, and he found that he 
 could give Oscar a little longer rest. 
 
 Another half-hour wore away, when he caught him- 
 self yielding again, and turned to take one careful 
 survey of their surroundings before waking Oscar and 
 turning in. 
 
 "What's that?" he muttered, as his eye caught 
 a speck, a dark shadow, in a cloud of dust, moving 
 along the side of a distant knoll. " If it's Indians, or 
 friends of these fellows, we're done for. But it's long 
 past time for the Deadwood stage." He shaded his 
 eyes, and watched till the shadow disappeared behind 
 rising ground ; but his eyes were too tired to serve 
 him. He could make nothing out of it. 
 
 He woke Oscar, and started Sancho and his own 
 horse to their feet. 
 
 " There's something coming from the north," he 
 whispered. " You'll see it, presently, right there. If 
 it is Indians, or anything doubtful, we had better leave 
 and light out for Deadwood, for these fellows are in 
 with the red skins, and they may have no end of 
 friends about." 
 
 The object came in sight again. It was nearer, 
 and in a better position. Oscar looked carefully, with 
 shaded eyes, while Charlie watched the prisoners.
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 DEADWOOD. 
 
 "I SHOULD think it was a stage coach," Oscar 
 whispered. 
 
 " Don't make a mistake, now," Charlie said, in a 
 voice that was almost pathetic. "I don't feel much 
 like fighting Indians this morning." 
 
 " I am not mistaken," Oscar said slowly. " It's 
 not Indians, sure. And it is a stage coach. There 
 are four horses ahead, and people sitting on top. It's 
 a stage, sure, Charlie." 
 
 " Give me your hand," Charlie exclaimed, in a deep 
 earnest voice. " Thank Heaven ! we are out of the 
 most dangerous hole we could have got into this side 
 of either ocean." 
 
 " I don't suppose there has really been much danger 
 since we got them tied up, has there?" Oscar asked, 
 in astonishment at Charlie's earaestness. And he 
 noticed, for the first time, how pale and haggard 
 Charlie's face looked in the sunlight. 
 
 256
 
 DEADWOOD. 257 
 
 His friend smiled as he replied : " Since I rapped 
 on the sod house door there has not been one minute 
 when the chances were not better that the next one 
 would find us dead than alive, yet here we are, with 
 three of the biggest desperadoes in the country tied 
 neck and heels, and the Deadwood stage coming up. 
 Oscar Peterson, you are a trump, through and through. 
 There isn't a ranger on the plains to-day who can hold 
 a candle to you. And next to you, God bless your 
 little Indian ! " 
 
 " Don't you talk that way, Charlie," Oscar ex- 
 claimed excitedly, while tears filled his eyes. " I 
 know who it was who did it all, with the help of the 
 Indian's pony and guns. If I am ever one half as 
 brave as you are I shall be satisfied. And when I 
 think how much I owe to you " 
 
 " Bosh ! " Charlie muttered, turning quickly away 
 and going over to the prisoners. 
 
 " Wake up, boys," he shouted ; " you've had five 
 hours to rest, and the cars are coming. Look alive, 
 now. We haven't grub enough to offer you another 
 meal, but here's hot coffee. Down with it, quickly, 
 and be on your feet." 
 
 "What's the row?" the squatter asked sullenly, 
 drinking the coffee, while Charlie untied their feet 
 and prepared to tie their hands, and Oscar mounted 
 Sancho and sat on guard. 
 
 " There's no row unless you make it, and we should
 
 258 DEADWOOD. 
 
 put a stop to that precious quick, I tell you. Uncle 
 Sam's letter-box is coming-, and we want to make a 
 good-looking squad. See?" 
 
 "The stage!" An obvious shudder ran through 
 the trio. Captain Bill glanced quickly about him, as 
 though in search of some weapon. Oscar's rifle flew 
 to his shoulder; Charlie stepped back and caught his 
 pistol from his belt. 
 
 " Dead or alive, now," he exclaimed. " You fellows 
 stand up ; and do it quick ! Now put your hands be- 
 hind your backs and hold them still. One motion 
 while I am tying them, and what's left o'f you will go 
 to Dead wood on the tailboard of the stage." 
 
 The rope around their necks proved an excellent 
 precaution against a sudden break, and Charlie finished 
 his work without another move. When it was done 
 Captain Bill muttered :" Look a-here! ef we hadn't 
 a-let you off yesterday we'd 'a' been O K terday. Now 
 money's v/hat yer arter. You've got back yer kit. 
 Take us ter Deadwood, an' yer in three thousand five 
 hundred. Jest cut these ropes an' gin us back our 
 mules an' shootin'-irons, an' we'll send ye, by the next 
 stage, five thousand dollars in clean gold. Now that's 
 fair." 
 
 Oscar started up the mules and pack horse, and 
 formed them in line as Charlie replied : " So far as 
 you're concerned, Captain Bill, I reckon you mean it 
 to be fair ; but lookin' at the matter from my side
 
 DEADWOOD. 259 
 
 I'm 'gin your biz, on principle. I may want ter go 
 through that gulch ag'in. And thar's others has es 
 good a right. Now I'll tell yer jest es 'tis. I'd ruther 
 turn you fellers over ter Uncle Sam, an' pay him five 
 thousand dollars out o' my own pocket, ter keep yer 
 out o' mischief, than ter let yer go ag'in in swap fur 
 the hull of Dakota." 
 
 " Fools we were not ter try our chances when we 
 had our hands free," the outlaw muttered. 
 
 As the stage approached the driver looked suspi- 
 ciously at the little group, and drew up fifty yards away, 
 calling to know who they were and what they wanted, 
 while two men, who sat behind him to guard the mails, 
 made an ostentatious display of their rifles. 
 
 " Harry Porter ! by the powers ! " Charlie shouted, 
 catching off his hat and swinging it lustily. 
 
 The driver looked sharp from under his broad brim 
 for an instant, then, quickly tossing the reins to the 
 man who sat beside him, whose duty it was to handle 
 the long whip, he left the high seat at a single bound, 
 and made for Charlie as fast as his legs could carry 
 him. 
 
 Oscar did not dare to take his eyes for an instant 
 from the prisoners, but IIB overheard enough to know 
 that they were college classmates who had parted in 
 dress suits after the graduation reception, under the 
 shadow of the Cambridge elms, to meet in this way on 
 the Deadwood trail.
 
 260 
 
 DEADWOOD. 
 
 " I reckon you didn't get held up last night, in spite 
 of your being so late," Charlie said. 
 
 " No, I didn't," his friend replied ; " I hung up 
 t'other side, and waited for daylight. It's getting too 
 thick for me in there after dark. I haven't made a 
 trip for three weeks without a scrimmage or a clean 
 hold up. Look at that hat o' mine. There's three 
 bullet holes come in it back there, at various times. 
 
 MEETING ON THK DEADWOOD TRAIL. 
 
 I said to myself, ' it's three times and out ; and I'm 
 not going to have my hat ruined completely,' so I 
 hung up for daylight, though it'll make me late in." 
 
 "Well, you're right, Harry; it is three times and 
 out," Charlie remarked. " There's your men. We 
 treed them and brought them out of the gulch last
 
 DEADWOOD. 261 
 
 night. If you will transport them to the Deadwood 
 authorities, with our compliments, it will be the best 
 thing you can do for that hat, now I tell you." 
 
 Harry stepped over and inspected the prisoners, 
 stopping short before Captain Bill, taking off his hat, 
 bowing very low, and saying: "How do you do, sir? 
 I never was more delighted in my life. I should know 
 you anywhere, mask or no mask. Look at that hole 
 through the crown of my sombrero? It was a big 
 double-barrel cannon of yours that put that there. It 
 came precious near calling for my checks. Yes, sir ; 
 I'll see you safe to Deadwood, as cheerfully as ever I 
 carried a bail o' goods in all my days. Haul up this 
 way, Jerry," he called to the man who held the reins. 
 " ' Tenvpus fugitsj as my friend here has often re- 
 marked while he was loading paper guns with Latin 
 powder and Greek shot. Just hustle in on the back 
 seat there, now. That'll do." Then turning to the 
 two men on the mail seat he said : " All the danger is 
 inside, now. You can put up your rifles and get out 
 your navies, and go in out of the wet." 
 
 The officers took the three men in hand. Oscar and 
 Charlie refused Harry's urging that they go on with 
 him, but Charlie got out the double-barreled roer and, 
 consulting Oscar, presented it to his friend as a me- 
 mento in which he had a personal interest. Then, 
 promising to see htm in Deadwood, they watched the 
 stage drive away.
 
 262 DEADV/OOD. 
 
 " Well, if that's not a mountain off, there never 
 was one," Charlie said, with a sigh of relief. " Now 
 let's have some grub, and then if you will watch out 
 for three hours, while I sleep, I'll be ready for any- 
 thing that comes along." 
 
 Fortunately nothing did come along, and two hours 
 before sunset they started again. 
 
 " We'll make an easy stage this time," Charlie said, 
 "and bunk early, so the horses will be ready for a 
 daylight start, and look reasonably fresh. We want 
 to put on all the style we can for Deadwood." 
 
 Ranches appeared occasionally, and many a little 
 cluster of mining huts, as they neared Deadwood. 
 The hills rose about them in ragged and irregular 
 mound and cones, full of gorges and ravines, often 
 covered with a low growth of scraggy pines, with 
 gaunt dead trunks rising grim and black, testifying to 
 some forest fire in years gone by. 
 
 " I don't wonder they have had trouble with Indians 
 here," Oscar remarked. " If I were an. Indian I 
 would ask no better place to make myself at home." 
 
 " Well, they have just done it," Charlie replied. 
 " There isn't a foot of ground about us that hasn't 
 felt an Indian on the war path. Look at those graves 
 down in the bottom of this gulch ! ' Killed by the 
 Indians.' That's the record you would find on the 
 wooden tombstones there, if it is not obliterated. 
 Times are a good deal changed since the first rush to
 
 DEADWOOD. 
 
 2G3 
 
 these parts, and the furious objection which the Indian 
 made at the start. Travelers used to bunch up in 
 gangs of fifty or a hundred, if they could, and make 
 a perfect caravan with their long line of teams. At 
 night they would strike for the highest lump of land 
 they could find, and back their carts, one after another, 
 so as to make a circle round the top. They would 
 cook and eat in there, and when the horses and mules 
 or oxen had fed they would pull them into the corral, 
 
 " ONLY WAITING FOK A SHOW." 
 
 too, and all sleep together. It was the only way they 
 could get through alive, for from one end to the other 
 they were watched by the red skins, who were only 
 waiting for a show to pounce upon them. When I 
 was coming up the last time, we hit upon a party of 
 eight that had been attacked and every scalp lifted. 
 Some of the bodies were horribly mutilated. The
 
 264 DEADWOOD. 
 
 wagons had been ransacked, and all the animals car- 
 ried off. We could only do what hundreds had done 
 before us under similar circumstances ; dig a hole, put 
 the bodies in it and cover them up, take a board from 
 one of the wagons and plant it at the head, with all 
 the names of the party that we could discover burned 
 upon it with a hot iron, and at the bottom, ' Killed by 
 Indians.' Then we went on our way again, cursing 
 the red man." 
 
 In time the straggling camps and cabins assumed 
 more prominence. The path was better beaten, and 
 occasionally they met people walking or riding upon 
 it. Gradually, too, as they came back again into 
 civilization, it was evident that the entire atmosphere 
 was different from what they had experienced before. 
 The people they met, and everything pertaining to 
 them, was different. There was nothing in any way 
 to suggest the trading-post of Pembina. There was 
 nothing to suggest the slightest resemblance to the 
 farming town of Casselton. There was no odor of the 
 shipping interests of Bismarck. Everything, every- 
 where, was mining, pure and simple. It was as if 
 they had come out upon another world with another 
 race of people. There had been miners in the streets 
 of the other cities, but they seemed like strangers 
 there. Oscar felt like just as much a stranger and as 
 much out of place in entering Deadwood. 
 
 Here and there the mines appeared along the hill-
 
 THEY ENTERED DEADWOOD.
 
 DEADWOOD. 267 
 
 sides and up the valleys and gulches discolored 
 patches where the earth had been thrown out, most 
 of them, sodden and heavy, indicative that the anxious 
 searchers had dug and failed and gone away ; while 
 many were only just begun, and men were working 
 with pick and shovel and wheelbarrow, or lounging 
 about the most disconsolate of little shanties. 
 
 Even their language the words they used and the 
 way they used them was unlike anything Oscar had 
 ever heard, and he began to realize the truth of what 
 Charlie had told him ; that each of the great occupa- 
 tions of the frontier, with its isolated circle of devotees, 
 had its own lingo ; a lingo which came with it, and 
 was as much a part of it as the pick, the rope, the 
 bull-whip or the mode of dress. 
 
 It was difficult to tell just when they really entered 
 Deadwood. It was growing dark, but to Oscar's 
 wide-open eyes and nervously excited condition it 
 seemed the strangest combination in which one could 
 possibly find himself. There was nothing that was 
 like the mines which he had seen in England, or the 
 well-regulated mines on the estate at home. There 
 was no order, system or harmony in anything; but a 
 great, free race to guard against Indians, highwaymen 
 and starvation, and make a fortune, if possible, re- 
 gardless of any one else, and the quicker the better ; 
 from above the ground or underground ; in gulch or 
 cliff ; by washing, crushing or smelting, and to exist,
 
 268 DEADWOOD. 
 
 the while, in hole or dugout, log cabin, sod house, 
 adobe hut, board shanty or tasteful residence all of 
 which were within sight at a single glance. 
 
 Now the houses stood so high above the street that 
 to reach them one must literally climb, while within a 
 stone's throw they would be so far below the street 
 that only a ship's plank seemed required to walk into 
 the second story windows, if they had any, or out 
 upon the roof. 
 
 As they rode slowly down the narrow valley which 
 forms one arm of the Y-shaped city, Oscar said with a 
 shudder : 
 
 " I wouldn't change places with one of these fellows 
 here if in the end I got a pile of dust as big as that 
 hill." 
 
 Charlie turned slowly about in his saddle and asked, 
 " Is there any one in the world with whom you would 
 change places, Oscar ? " 
 
 " Dear me ! Thousands," Oscar exclaimed. " Why, 
 I can hardly keep myself from envying almost every- 
 body." 
 
 " You may envy people some particular advantages 
 they have which if you had you could utilize," Charlie 
 replied thoughtfully; "but you just go ahead, now, 
 and fix on one solitary mortal with whom you would 
 be willing to change places, body and soul all cir- 
 cumstances, ambitions and conditions included, I 
 mean."
 
 DEADWOOD. 209 
 
 " Maybe that's a little different," Oscar said, and 
 rode on in silence for a moment. Then he exclaimed : 
 " Why, upon my word, Charlie, I never thought of it 
 that way. I don't believe that I should really care to 
 change places that way with any one that I know. It 
 sounds queer and conceited to say so, and surely I am 
 not over-well satisfied with some circumstances in my 
 own life." 
 
 " No one ever is," Charlie interrupted. " At least 
 if he is, he is to be pitied. And on the other hand we 
 know precious little about the skeletons in other peo- 
 ple's closets. We only know the most hopeful and 
 promising side, and yet, unless you strike an out and 
 out fool, I don't believe you'll find the man who would 
 be willing to swap, clean over, sight unseen, taking 
 only what he thinks the condition of any other man 
 that lives." 
 
 " What made those fellows stare at us that way as 
 they passed ? " Oscar asked abruptly. 
 
 " Did they ? I didn't notice them. I was talking 
 metaphysics, and I didn't even look at them," Charlie 
 replied, with a careless laugh. 
 
 " They certainly did," Oscar repeated, decidedly. 
 " They were looking at us very sharp, every one of 
 them. As they came up abreast they slowed down a 
 little, and then they looked back again after they were 
 on ahead. They were certainly talking about us." 
 
 " And now we're talking about them, to pay them
 
 270 DEADWOOD. 
 
 back," Charlie observed, laughing. " I reckon 'twas 
 only because we're strangers here. One would think 
 that in a place like this, where everybody's a stranger, 
 they'd get so used to such a sight as to turn away from 
 it in disgust. But there's no place on earth like these 
 mining towns for curiosity concerning new people. A 
 New England village is nowhere. Thirteen years ago, 
 while I was trying my luck here at losing everything, 
 even to grub-stakes, there was a tenderfoot came slid- 
 ing down the street at a lively pace, on a likely piece 
 of horse flesh, taking an airing, and thinking himself 
 a full-fledged frontier feller, when an old settler stepped 
 out into the street and held him up, at the muzzle of 
 a big navy. It was so sudden that he slid clean off 
 his saddle. He was white as a sheet ; but the miner 
 quietly put up his shooter, looked him over, nodded 
 pleasantly, and remarked, 'I say, stranger, when yer 
 showin' yerself off in these parts, do it slow, so's folks 
 kin git a good look at ye.' Then he walked away." 
 
 " I'd have been tempted to show him the end of my 
 gun, about that time," Oscar remarked, with a laugh. 
 
 " He didn't mean any harm," Charlie explained. 
 "It was a pretty rough way, but he evidently sized 
 his man in advance, and only meant it for a joke. 
 There's a good deal of harm done in taking these 
 fellows' jokes too serious." 
 
 " But isn't there a lot of shooting done in earnest, 
 too ? " Oscar asked.
 
 DEADWOOD. 271 
 
 " There was at one time ; but there's not so much 
 of that now, I reckon," Charlie replied, quickly. 
 " Many's the time that it was called a poor day for 
 excitement in Deadwood if there wasn't a first-class 
 shooting row somewhere, with one body, at least, to 
 carry down the street. But to sample things on the 
 strength of that is as wrong as it is popular. A fron- 
 tier town, and a mining town at that, will always draw 
 to it the meanest skunks that crawl, and they are the 
 creatures who always fill up such holes as that." 
 
 He pointed to a liquor saloon they were passing, 
 where, out of the open door, came the shouts and 
 yells of a free fight of some sort. 
 
 " Birds of a'feather flock together. If a fellow is 
 one of them and gets in there, the risk is his own. 
 When they get drunk, they are as much meaner in 
 proportion as other people are when they get drunk. 
 Those are the fellows who do the real shooting, as a 
 rule. They're not very often able to hit the man 
 they aim at, but they usually hit somebody in the 
 saloon, and the chances are that it will prove a bless- 
 ing to the place in the end, whoever it is ; especially 
 if the fellow who shoots loses his life for it, too." 
 
 " They tackle strangers, too, sometimes," Oscar 
 remarked, referring, mentally,, to the peculiar actions 
 of the men who had just passed them. 
 
 " Anybody in a saloon must run his chances," 
 Charlie replied ; " and the greener he is, the greater
 
 272 DEADWOOD. 
 
 the chances, of course, of attracting a bully's atten- 
 tion. Better not go to saloons at all. That's my 
 opinion." 
 
 " But outside of the saloons? " Oscar insisted. 
 
 * 
 
 " Why, of course there are chances," Charlie ad- 
 mitted. "That's why you wear a six-shooter, and 
 carry a rifle. As long as there are Indians on the 
 plain, and fools in frontier towns, we shall have to be 
 armed. It's an ounce of prevention, and is worth a 
 pound of lead inside of the guns. If a fellow minds 
 his own business, and neither swells, gets drunk, or 
 loses his temper, so long as he looks as if he were 
 well armed I would be willing to wager anything 
 that he could live in Leadville with as little real use 
 for powder as if he were in the city of Boston. If 
 any one comes round a place like this and puts on 
 airs, though, he's very likely to receive some sugges- 
 tions on the great American dogma of equality. There 
 was a sprig from somewhere came out here to invest a 
 fortune in the mines, and. struck Leadville in a pair 
 of patent leather boots, a plug hat and a duster. The 
 driver stopped his stage a good quarter of a mile from 
 the hotel, so's he'd have to walk and give the fellers a 
 sight. Well, he took his grip and began mincing 
 along in the dust, and straightaway the fellers began 
 to fall in behind him, close rank and single file, minc- 
 ing along just the same, till there were about fifty men, 
 like the tail of a comet, pulling in behind. His face
 
 DEADWOOD. 273 
 
 was as white as a snowdrift, aucl he was the seamiest 
 man you ever saw. Then some one struck up singing 
 ' Does your mother know you're out ? ' and he made a 
 break and ran into a restaurant ; while the fellows 
 gathered round the door and gave him a free concert." 
 
 " I say, Charlie," Oscar interrupted, " what did 
 that fellow mean who rode up, just now, and clear 
 round us, and there he goes back again, as fast as his 
 horse can run ? " 
 
 " Did he ? I didn't notice," Charlie responded, 
 carelessly. " Hope he saw all he wanted to. He's 
 going off as though he was satisfied." 
 
 "What's the matter with you, Charlie?" Oscar 
 muttered. " You don't seem to notice anything. 
 Back there on the plain you knew if a grasshopper 
 jumped, a mile away." 
 
 " That was back on the plain. This is the public 
 thoroughfare of immortal Dead wood," Charlie returned, 
 laughing. 
 
 " Well, I'm a heap more afraid here than I was 
 there," Oscar said. 
 
 " And I was a heap more afraid there than I am 
 here," Charlie added, " which makes all the difference 
 between us, and the way we keep track of what is 
 going on." 
 
 At that moment three men rode up to them. It 
 was quite dark now, but they could see by the lights 
 ahead that they were approaching the body of the Y,
 
 274 DEA.DWOOD. 
 
 the center of the city, where Harry Porter, the college 
 stage driver, had promised to secure rooms for them, and 
 meet them on their arrival. The three men turned and 
 rode back beside them. Presently one of them asked : 
 
 " Is them your mules, stranger ? " 
 
 " Reckon they're as much mine as they are yours, 
 'tenerate," Charlie replied indifferently, swinging one 
 leg over the side-pocket of his saddle. 
 
 " You jest hold yer hosses, now," returned the man. 
 " I ain't a-jumpin' no claims ternight, nor drawin' no 
 comparisons. I'm jest a-axin' ye, civil likes, be them 
 your mules ? " 
 
 " Can't ye see that they're anchored ter my saddle ? " 
 
 "I'll 'low yer towin' on 'um," said the man ; " but 
 be ye towin' 'um on yer own account, or fur summon 
 else ? That's what I'm axin'." 
 
 Charlie laughed as he replied : " You fellers seems 
 ter be powerful anxious 'bout them long-eared critters 
 hangin' outer me. P'r'aps you'd better jest try lightin' 
 on one of 'um, fur the sake on't, ef yer wanter find 
 out quicker'n scat how much personal interest I take 
 in him. Chin music's been plenty, and target shootin' 
 scarce'n hens' teeth for a piece back, and we're kinder 
 hankerin' fur variety. See ? " 
 
 " You jest keep yer shootin' irons fur them as isn't 
 stuffed so full o' lead a'ready that a bullet couldn't 
 git into 'um edgewise," the man replied, and the three 
 laughed and rode away toward the center again.
 
 DEADWOOD. 275 
 
 "Them's 'um. We're O K," they heard one of 
 the men remark, as they started off at a rapid pace. 
 
 " I told you there was something wrong. What in 
 the world does it mean ? " Oscar muttered. 
 
 " Switched if I know," Charlie replied, swinging 
 his foot. " They seem to take a lively interest in 
 these mules. I presume they were stolen from some 
 one, and like as not it was some one in Deadwood. 
 Maybe their owner has spotted 'um." 
 
 "They don't take us for horse thieves, do they?" 
 Oscar exclaimed indignantly. 
 
 " Shouldn't wonder," Charlie replied, with a short 
 laugh, as though it was a good joke. " Wouldn't 
 you, if your horse had been stolen, and you saw some 
 one, coming down the street, towing him by a lead 
 line?" 
 
 " It would depend somewhat upon whether he looked 
 like a horse thief or not," Oscar replied. 
 
 " Well, don't you flatter yourself that, after what 
 we have been through, we are any great improvement 
 on good, respectable horse thieves, so far as personal 
 appearance is concerned," Charlie interrupted. "And 
 all cats are black when the lights are out, you know." 
 
 Charlie finished his sentence with a low whistle, 
 and suddenly swung himself back to an erect position 
 on his saddle, and the two looked down the street. 
 
 Ahead of them there was an open space like a square. 
 It was easy to see that a crowd of people was gathered
 
 276 DEADWOOD. 
 
 there, and looking eagerly toward them ; while flick- 
 ering lights from various sources dancing over them 
 made the scene more exciting and mysterious. To 
 add to the peculiarity of the position, a voice from in 
 front of the crowd could be distinctly heard, remark- 
 ing: "Them's 'um, boys. Now mum's the word." 
 
 " If they've got a liberty pole or a lamp post handy, 
 and a good rope, all they need is a couple of horse 
 thieves, to have a first-class funeral there to-night," 
 Charlie muttered. 
 
 " Do you think that we'd better go on ? " Oscar 
 asked. 
 
 " This is about the only road I see running that 
 way," Charlie remarked. " You just hook on to this 
 tow line, and let me ride a step or two ahead." 
 
 " Not if you're going to do any fighting, I won't," 
 Oscar replied decidedly. " If that's it, we'll just drop 
 the mules altogether, for I'm going with you, and if 
 they hang one they can hang us both." 
 
 " There's many an honest man been hanged for 
 a horse thief before this," Charlie answered. "But 
 don't be alarmed. There'll be no hanging here to- 
 night. They're laying for us, and no mistake ; but 
 all the fighting I shall do is with my tongue. If that 
 don't fix it we'll let them put us up at the Govern- 
 ment House till morning, if they insist on it ; but I 
 reckon they won't. Hold on to the mules, for if they 
 think we stole them it would go against us bad to
 
 DEADWOOD. 277 
 
 drop them ; and whatever comes, don't touch your 
 shooters if you value your life." 
 
 Oscar was satisfied, and took the lead lines, falling 
 a little behind. As they approached the square the 
 men fell back, leaving a passage between them. 
 Without a moment's hesitation Charlie rode directly 
 forward and Oscar followed close behind. It was the 
 strangest sensation he had ever experienced. That 
 line of grim and silent upturned faces looked hideous 
 in the cross-lights and shadows, watching him as 
 though he was the greatest curiosity in the world. 
 Were the men only waiting for a signal from some 
 one to drag him from his saddle, throw a rope about 
 his neck and hang him for a horse thief? In the 
 flaring lights of the square their seamed and eager 
 faces looked it. If they would only say something, 
 do something. It seemed as if it would be a relief to 
 have them make the dash at him. Then he would fight, 
 in spite of Charlie's admonition. 
 
 With every muscle strained, and his eyes fixed on 
 Charlie, he rode on a few steps farther, when, just as 
 they were in the very center of the crowd, the men 
 closed in upon them from behind and formed a solid 
 wall in front, while one big fellow caught the bridle 
 of Charlie's horse. 
 
 Oscar cringed. He hugged his feet under Sancho 
 and almost caught his pistol from his belt. It would 
 have been a very doubtful struggle to have fought his
 
 278 DEADWOOD. 
 
 way through that crowd of earliest men ; but he felt 
 that it would be easier to try it, at least, than to sit 
 there waiting for them to treat him as they pleased. 
 Charlie's example was all that restrained him. He 
 saw Charlie deliberately stuff his hands into his 
 pockets, lean back in his saddle, and remark: 
 
 " Well, stranger, do you make a livin' holdin' hosses 
 'out bein' axed ? Ef that's the custom in these parts 
 I'll gin ye a quarter an' yer kin let go ; 'cause my 
 critter'll stand, 'out a hitchin' post, whensever I git 
 good an' ready ter stop, the which ain't jest this minit." 
 
 " Look a-here, Mister," the big man replied, with- 
 out the least intention of dropping the bridle, " we 
 hain't come out here to give or take no back talk. 
 The fust thing we folks wants ter know is whar you 
 two fellers come frum and whar yer goin' ? " 
 
 As Oscar sat there, trembling and listening, he 
 asked himself for the thousandth time what he should 
 have done if he had taken that trip alone. He would 
 really have trembled much less, and would doubtless 
 have done precisely as Charlie did made the best of 
 everything ; for while it is very true that they also 
 serve who only stand and wait, any one who has tried 
 it and can speak from experience, is sure to say that 
 by far the most difficult task of all is that same 
 standing and waiting. Oscar did not think of that, 
 however. He simply appreciated the fact that he was 
 frightened. *
 
 DEADWOOD. 279 
 
 Instantly Charlie answered, " We come from Mani- 
 toba, gentlemen, and when you'll show me that where 
 we're goin' is any of your biz, I'll let you know." 
 
 " Thet hain't sayin' nuthin' 'bout how ye cum by 
 them mules, is it now, Mister ? " asked the big man 
 at the bridle, with a suggestive grin ; and a voice from 
 the crowd called : " Ded ye fetch 'um all the way 
 frum Manitoby ? " 
 
 " You didn't axe me whar the mules come frum," 
 Charlie responded, " or like enough I monght 'a' told 
 yer"- 
 
 " Waal, go on an' tell us now," interrupted the 
 big fellow, and the crowd gathered closer as Charlie 
 quickly continued : 
 
 " Like enough I mought 'a' told yer that that cnme 
 putty nigh bein' our own biz, jest now." 
 
 There was a wild yell from the crowd. Oscar 
 started in his saddle ; yet no one seemed inclined to 
 lay hands on him. 
 
 When the yelling ceased the spokesman continued : 
 " That there's jest the gist on't, stranger. Them 
 mules has been assayed as stolen property." 
 
 " I presume they are," was Charlie's cool response. 
 " Hosses an' mules in the West is a good deal like 
 umbrellas in the East." 
 
 " Waal, do you happen to know, too, stranger, the 
 way we folks smelt up a vein o' hoss thieves, in these 
 diggin's, when we strike it rich ? " the spokesman
 
 280 DEADWOOD. 
 
 asked, and the words were no more than out of his 
 mouth when Charlie replied : 
 
 " Ef you want points on handlin' hoss thieves, I'm 
 yer man ; but ef it's exercise in the art that ye're 
 arter, and ye're prospectin' my way for a subject, I 
 can tell yer at the start that ye've got the wrong pig 
 by the ear. Now, then, pard, ye've come putty close 
 on to hintiii' at charges that no man makes agfiii me 
 
 o o 
 
 and lives. Ef you've got any honest doubts that 
 you'd liked cleared away, I'll clear 'um. But you 
 come one hair nearer to savin' that I'm a hoss thief, 
 and I'll put a ray o' sunlight inter you before you kin 
 git yer mouth shut, ,Open up yer sluices, now ; wash 
 out the dirt and gin us the dust clean and straight. 
 Say what ye have ter say, and say it quick." 
 
 " Waal, now, I'll tell yer, stranger, it's jest this 
 way," said the man. " Thar ain't no call fur shootin' 
 irons ternight, not but that I've been shot at in my 
 day an' been able ter shoot back. Leastwise I've got 
 firearms handy, an' I know how ter use 'um. But 
 the hull on't is, we know them mules ter be stolen 
 goods, an' we've see the fellers that straddled 'um. 
 Now we don't make no pussonal charges till we're 
 staked out an' know that we've got a sure thing. 
 Nevertheless, we don't perpose ter let two sech fellers 
 as you an' that youngster go no further through this 
 town 'out payin' yer some attention. We've chipped 
 in an' laid out as putty a spread as the town affords
 
 DEADWOOD. 281 
 
 on short notice, which ain't no great, it's true, but 
 we've come out ter axe ye ter honor us by grubbin' up 
 with us. 'Tain't every day we comes acrost two fel- 
 lers that kin hold up three o' the worst road agents 
 in the country, an' we'd everlastin' like ter git a better 
 look at yer. Will yer come ? " 
 
 "That's more like biz," Charlie remarked, while 
 Oscar hardly knew whether to laugh or cry in the 
 sudden reaction. " Ef ye'll axe me ag'in, now, whar 
 we're goin', I'll tell ye quick enough that we're goin' 
 ter grub." 
 
 Some one shouted, " Three cheers for the hoss 
 thieves ! " and they were given lustily. Then a voice 
 cried, " Three cheers for the youngster ! " and the 
 heart of Deadwood rang again. 
 
 In the momentary hush that followed a clear voice 
 in the rear called, " Now, then, three more for them 
 mules ! " and in the roar of laughter which followed 
 they started for the largest hall in Deadwood. 
 
 The dinner was one which might never find a coun- 
 terpart. Abundant gold dust had done its best. Of 
 all places in the world where highwaymen are hated 
 and personal bravery admired, such a location as Dead- 
 wood in its earlier history has no equal. The three 
 highwaymen had rendered the route from Bismarck 
 almost deserted. Every effort had been made in vain 
 to capture them. They had only become more daring 
 and aggressive. Now, after soldiers, volunteers and
 
 282 DEADWOOD. 
 
 all had failed, two travelers, one of them a boy, 
 brought in not proof that some one of the outlaws 
 had been shot, but all three alive and well. No won- 
 der they wanted to honor them. 
 
 The two leading hotels had been taxed to their 
 utmost. They drained every market. Fruit was an 
 expensive luxury that ordinarily found a poor sale, but 
 from raisins to apples there could not have been found 
 a dime's worth for sale when their purchase was com- 
 pleted. A trapper appeared with a bear, and instantly 
 sold him, whole, for more than he expected to receive 
 by peddling bear's stakes from house to house, all day. 
 The bake shops turned out their best, no matter what 
 it was, and the whole promiscuous upper ten of Dead- 
 wood society was on hand. 
 
 The company was an assortment as peculiar as the 
 feast. There were men there who had honored the 
 most artistic dining saloons of the refined East. There 
 were men who were no strangers to banquets in the 
 great cities of the Old World. There were men from 
 homes where refinement was so pure ana unaffected 
 that an uncouth word or act would have been simply 
 impossible. They were entertaining a Harvard grad- 
 uate, too, and an Oxford student. But who would 
 have thought it? 
 
 They were all in the Black Hills now, and the Black 
 Hills as they were when all who were at the Black 
 Hills were one. They were rough, hearty, boisterous,
 
 DEADWOOD. 283 
 
 earnest men ; quite capable of hating life's hypocrisies 
 and honoring its nobilities, in spite of the coats of 
 mental, physical and social tan that covered them. 
 
 There were men there who were manipulating mil- 
 lions, and men who were working on grub-stakes, but 
 they, too, were all one ; for it is one of the eccentrici- 
 ties of nature, that at the very places where gathering 
 of gold and silver is the one ambition and energy of 
 life, the possession of it has the least power to give an 
 unworthy man influence and authority, and win for 
 him the servile homage of his fellow men. 
 
 The dinner was a grand success, closing with the 
 presentation of the purse of three thousand five hun- 
 dred dollars. It was late when it was over, but as 
 Harry Porter was to leave early in the morning, they 
 sat in his room with him afterward. 
 
 The stage driver is a most important personage in 
 a frontier town. He knows every one, and in his 
 official capacity has to do with almost every one. 
 
 " Speaking of Manitoba Lake," Harry said, " I 
 brought a fellow down some weeks ago, who said he 
 had just been up there, investing ; and he talked great 
 about it. I told him I thought it would have been 
 better for the States if he had stopped there ; for he 
 wasn't much liked in these parts. He's a first-class 
 humbug, and humbugs don't go down here, you know. 
 He was a first-class coward, too. Humbugs always 
 are, I guess. We were held up, that night. Those
 
 284 DEADWOOD. 
 
 fellows got the best of me by fastening a black rope 
 across the road and throwing my leaders. Before I 
 could get them on their feet again the fellows had the 
 drop on us from behind the trees, where we couldn't 
 get at them, and while we were at the horses they 
 went through the stage. You ought to have seen that 
 fellow shell out his watch and trinkets anc^ dust. 
 And how he did shake ! He'll not show up here 
 again, though. He had a claim that was panning out 
 something great, and he tried to jump a poor fellow's 
 claim lying next and freeze him out. The folks got 
 on to him, though, and the committee waited on him 
 and gave him forty-eight hours to give it back and 
 git. They say he sold out at a pretty good figure. 
 Those skunks generally do suck in the fat, somehow ; 
 but he's gone, and we're well rid of him. If he ever 
 turns up in Manitoba, look out. A small man, short 
 one little finger ? Yes. That's him. So you've seen 
 him before ? Well, that's funny. I tell you, this is 
 a mighty small world when you come right down to it. 
 What ? You want to strike him again ? Well, that's 
 funnier yet. You must think more of him than most 
 folks ; but I guess you'll be pretty apt to find him in 
 the neighborhood of Leadville, unless he gets the 
 good-by from there, too. His lawyer, here, told me 
 yesterday that he had heard from him down there, and 
 that he was taking a big pile of dust out of the ground 
 from some claims he was working there. By the way,
 
 DEADWOOD. 285 
 
 Charlie, what have you been doing up in Manitoba, 
 any way ? " 
 
 " Oh ! I've been camping out on the Half-circle-dash 
 range, punching cows for a living." He was about to 
 put another question when Harry interrupted : 
 
 " Half-circle-dash ! Hold up a bit. Half-circle- 
 dash ! You don't say ! I never thought of it from 
 that time to this. It never occurred to me that you 
 might be those fellows. I was looking for cowboys, 
 and, in fact, when I met you I was so excited, finding 
 who you were and seeing those agents along with you, 
 that I never thought of it at all." He was fumbling 
 away in his stage box. " I've got a letter for yon 
 somewhere here. It's the funniest thing out, I de- 
 clare ! You see, I was just coming up to the gulch, a 
 little after daylight, instead of two o'clock in the 
 morning as usual, when I ran on to a little Indian boy, 
 sitting by the road, hugging the head of a white pony. 
 The pony was dead as a door nail, and the boy was 
 crying like water through a sluice sieve. I was kind 
 of sorry for him, and held up till we made up a little 
 purse between us, and passed it over. Come to find 
 out, he could speak English like a book. He said the 
 squaw from the sod house by the well got mad and 
 killed his horse so he could not go on ; but he had a 
 letter for two Half-circle-dash fellows who were some- 
 where between there and Dead wood. Here it is. 
 Only a piece of brown paper."
 
 286 
 
 DEADWOOD. 
 
 When they were alone, a little later, they opened 
 the paper and read what the Indian had scratched 
 with a bullet : 
 
 " Heap pale face tepee soon. Indian no more need. 
 Great Spirit keep open eye. Indian go back now." 
 
 " Poor little fellow," Charlie said earnestly, as he 
 laid down the paper. " So the squatter's squaw got 
 
 "THE BOY WAS CRYING. " 
 
 wind of what had happened and killed his pony for 
 the part he played. But the brave little chap wouldn't 
 acknowledge it in the letter." 
 
 " I'd like to scalp her," Oscar muttered. 
 
 " Easy," Charlie interrupted. " That's the way I 
 felt about all the Indians ; but this little fellow has 
 pulled my eyes open. His traits and characteristics
 
 DEADWOOD. 287 
 
 are pure Indian, only he has directed them in a way 
 that we can appreciate, and the result is we admire 
 him. That squaw waj doing precisely the same thing 
 for the old squatter, and I begin to think that if I 
 studied them more charitably, instead of hating them 
 at sight, I should find a heap more nobility and story- 
 book romance about them. The fact is, they never 
 stop to think. They never have any half-way. If 
 they believe they have cause to be friendly they do 
 everything that comes to hand to show it, in a way so 
 generous and self-sacrificing that one would be a brute 
 not to admire them ; while if they feel that they have 
 cause for revenge they just reverse the whole. And 
 the trouble is, we've got to admit, ninety-nine Indians 
 out of every hundred, wherever you find them, have 
 excellent cause for vengeance. I wish they were a 
 little cleaner and a little less lazy and hoggish when 
 they have nothing to do, if I have got to turn about 
 and befriend them ; but if they were they would not 
 be Indians. That's all there is to it." 
 
 " Do you suppose that that boy will have to walk all 
 the way back to Manitoba? " Oscar asked anxiously. 
 
 "O, no! He'll steal a horse directly, and be all 
 right again," Charlie replied carelessly. 
 
 " Steal ! " Oscar exclaimed indignantly. 
 
 " Certainly," said Charlie, laughing. " It's the 
 nature of the beast. You are just as bad as I am. 
 You think because an Indian has been kind to you
 
 288 DEAD WOOD. 
 
 that he never could steal a horse from any one, and 1 
 think because he steals horses that he can't have any 
 nobility in him. Let's shake ourselves up, together, 
 and we shall come at a better estimate of the Lo 
 family. And now what are you going to do with your 
 three thousand five hundred dollars ? " 
 
 " Mine," Oscar exclaimed. " If ever a dollar be- 
 longed to any one, that money belongs to you." 
 
 " Look here ! " Charlie interrupted quickly, " I've 
 told you once that I was not dead struck on cash. 
 I've got enough now to keep me, if I was to be blind 
 or anything, and I wouldn't go saddle my horse to 
 double it. On the other hand, this trip is yours, and 
 any funerals along the way are your funerals. -You 
 can pay me back the expenses of the trip if you want 
 to, to make yourself feel easy. More than that I will 
 not touch, and that settles it." 
 
 Oscar saw that Charlie was thoroughly in earnest 
 and replied : 
 
 " All right, Charlie. It's not worth fighting over, 
 any way. It's good for nothing but to spend, and all 
 that either of us could do with it would be to decide 
 how to spend it to the best advantage. I've thought 
 of one way ; see if you agree with me ? You take five 
 hundred, for past expenses and future contingencies, 
 and we'll devote the three thousand to giving that 
 Indian boy an education and a chance to make the 
 most of his good qualities."
 
 . f 
 
 DEADWOOD. 289. 
 
 " Good," said Charlie. " The next thing is to get 
 hold of him." 
 
 " I've been thinking of that," Oscar replied. u He 
 must have been the one who brought Saucho to me at 
 the ranch house, and from the letter the keeper wrote 
 I think he knew who it was. The pony came from 
 the farm. I noticed the brand under his mane while 
 I was riding, but I forgot to speak about it afterward. 
 He never could have got those arms of father's except 
 the keeper had given them to him. I think that keeper 
 ij a pretty square fellosv, and if we write to him about 
 it, and send him five hundred dollars to begin upon, 
 it'll be all right, won't it ? " 
 
 Charlie thought for a moment, and replied : " It's 
 trusting a stranger, of course, but I liked his letter. 
 It sounded like a straight man. At any rate, it is the 
 only way to do at present. Now for the next step. I 
 suppose we strike for Leadville?" Oscar nodded. 
 " I don't know what you propose to do when you hit 
 your man there, but I don't believe you will ever 
 accomplish anything with him except by accident. 
 He's a scamp, through and through. You must keep 
 that in mind, and remember that a scamp is not in- 
 fluenced and affected according to the mental and 
 moral laws that work in an honest mind. A wounded 
 crane will fight, and a wounded deer will run as surely 
 as oil will float and a stone sink in water; but you 
 never can tell what a coward and a fraud will do when
 
 290 DEADWOOD. 
 
 you drive him into a corner. You'll find that he's 
 covered up his tracks too carefully to be caught by a 
 straight hunt. He fired that shot as the price of a 
 big deal for himself. Don't imagine that you are 
 either going to shame him, confound him, or prove 
 anything by straight, open work. You'll find that he 
 isn't made that way. Lie low and wait for some 
 accident to put him in your power, or I'm afraid you'll 
 find he is more than a match for you." 
 
 " I'll remember what you say, Charlie," Oscar said, 
 " and I know you are right, for you always are ; but 
 it is what I have come to accomplish, and with your 
 help I am going to accomplish it." 
 
 Charlie gave his hand in a way that left no doubt 
 as to the quality of aid he was to receive from that 
 quarter.
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THE INDIAN QUESTION. 
 
 WITH at least a limited amount of absolute knowl- 
 edge ahead of them, Oscar and Charlie were now in 
 the greatest haste to reach their destination ; but there 
 was the difficulty, in shortening the journey by taking 
 advantage of the railroad, that they had never seen 
 the man they were after, while he had at least seen 
 Oscar, and if he had heard of his departure from 
 Manitoba he might be on the watch for him. If he 
 watched anything it would be the railways and stage 
 lines, and to have him forewarned would mean the 
 greatest possible obstruction in their way. They de- 
 cided to strike the trail again, and follow the most 
 direct route through Wyoming to Leadville. 
 
 Deadwood had little that was of further interest to 
 them, and the notoriety which they had gained was 
 not at all to their tastes ; so that as soon as the horses 
 were in condition they started again down the famous 
 Deadwood Gulch. There was no doubt as to the 
 
 291
 
 292 THE INDIAN QUESTION. 
 
 origin of its name. The hills were ragged and rocky 
 about them, full of caverns and gorges which might 
 easily have sheltered every Indian west of the Missis- 
 sippi without betraying the presence of a single red 
 skin, while here and there, like solitary sentinels, or in 
 grim clusters, rose the gaunt dead trunks of trees. 
 
 Miners' shanties, singly or in little groups, were 
 everywhere, and they frequently passed more extensive 
 settlements sometimes dignified by the name of town, 
 sometimes called cities, chiefly composed of liquor 
 saloons and grocery stores. Some were only half-built 
 and deserted, some already falling to ruin. For a time, 
 too, there was company enough if they had desired it, 
 and comparatively little fear of Indians, though the 
 disturbances in the northern reservations had already 
 reached the agencies to the west of them, and many 
 reports were brought from Wyoming of the rough 
 treatment which the settlers were receiving from the 
 Sioux there. 
 
 For several days there was only the constantly 
 changing magnificence of the mountains to make one 
 hour differ from another. There was no excitement to 
 keep them constantly on their guard, and no shooting, 
 the game had been so effectually driven away by hun- 
 gry miners. The depressing atmosphere of mines and 
 mining, however, gradually disappeared as they reached 
 the wilder tablelands of Wyoming. 
 
 "Mining may look well enough on paper," Oscar
 
 THE LAST OF PEAUWOOP GULCH.
 
 THE INDIAN QUESTION. 295 
 
 said one day, u and it's fine to read about the bonanza 
 kings, but I tell you there's too much sadness in the 
 reality to suit me. I wouldn't spend my life digging 
 in the Black Hills if I could own the whole of them 
 to pay. There are too many deserted holes, too many 
 ruined shanties, too many half-starved, ragged, wretched 
 creatures about, and too many graves everywhere. I 
 wish that the stories of failure could be told as often 
 and graphically as the stories of success. I think some 
 fellows would give up the idea of jumping into fortunes 
 without working for them, then, and would come out 
 on to the farms and ranches, instead of to the mines." 
 
 "Hold on, Oscar," Charlie interrupted, with a smile. 
 " You are talking like a philosopher now, and philoso- 
 pher is only another name for a poor man who has 
 made a failure himself in the race for riches. It is 
 not at all impossible that you will come out of this 
 scrape a big rich mine owner yourself, coining money 
 without lifting your finger, and you may wish, then, 
 that you hadn't talked too strong on the other side." 
 
 " I said that I would not work at mining for the 
 whole of the Black Hills, and it's a fact," Oscar in- 
 sisted. " If I am poor as poverty I shall not come 
 here to earn a living, I promise you. If I ever 
 do own a big mine, as you say, I hope that I shall 
 have the good sense to make the income accomplish 
 something for the good of the world-. At any rate, 
 you'll never find me standing over it. Ranching and
 
 296 THE INDIAN QUESTION. 
 
 ranging are good enough for me, and I'd rather be a 
 ranchman and ranger than the biggest mine owner in 
 the country ; so if I come out of this trip as poor as I 
 began, which is all that I expect or wish, I'm just go- 
 ing to strike for some place under you, on the best 
 ranch we can find, and do the best I can." 
 
 By degrees they lost sight of the signs of civiliza- 
 tion again, and crossed the Indian trails leading to 
 the various reservations, now and then passing small 
 bands of Indians, who paid them no attention, how- 
 ever, beyond a guttural grunt or muttered "How?" 
 
 Again they began the precautions necessary in the 
 doubtful Indian country, and again their eyes were 
 open for every sign or footprint, and their ears for 
 every sentiment which Panza might express. 
 
 " I didn't realize it then, but the fact that I felt 
 sure that the little Indian was round made me feel a 
 heap easier about red men, in coming through Dakota," 
 Charlie said, and added, " I wish he were about here 
 now." 
 
 Before sunset they built their fire in a sheltered 
 gorge, using only dry sticks, to prevent smoke, and 
 after supper moved on again for half a mile or more. 
 The second night they selected a camp in a curious 
 ravine, which seemed to have sunk down from a level 
 of the tableland, through some action from below. 
 There was a narrow entrance, a defile between the 
 rocky ledges leading to it, and the bottom, containing
 
 THE INDIAN QUESTION. 297 
 
 not more than three or four acres, was thickly covered 
 with grass and wild flowers. Except for that one 
 defile it was completely walled in, and a little stream, 
 trickling over the rocks, wound along the bottom and 
 finally disappeared. 
 
 " What a glorious place this is," Oscar exclaimed. 
 " We have only to turn the horses loose and go to 
 sleep." 
 
 " It is the best thing that could be built," Charlie 
 replied, " so long as no one knows that we are here. 
 But it would be a tough place for us if a bunch of 
 Indians should get wind of it, for there 'd be no get- 
 ting out, and no getting at them. I reckon we'd better 
 keep the watcli same as last night." 
 
 Whenever they were obliged to watch Charlie slept 
 the first half of the night, giving Oscar the last half; 
 for then he was in a better state to go to sleep quickly, 
 and could sleep till the last moment in the morning. 
 
 The night was clear. There was a cold wind blow- 
 
 O 
 
 ing over the tableland, but it could not reach their 
 sheltered valley. Oscar was tired after the long day, 
 and' the still air made him sleepy. He was obliged 
 to walk, most of the time, to keep awake, frequently 
 passing the narrow entrance, and at every turn giving 
 a sharp look along the ledges. 
 
 It was approaching twelve o'clock, and Oscar was 
 very glad of it, when Panza, who had been lying near 
 Sancho, stood up, looked about her in an uncertain
 
 298 THE INDIAN QUESTION. 
 
 way, and came over to where Oscar had seated himself 
 for a moment. She was evidently disturbed. Her 
 tail was between her legs, and she came crouching 
 along- in a most unusnal way ; for there were very few 
 things which ever frightened her. 
 
 " What is it ? " Oscar asked, patting her head ; but 
 she simply looked about her and crouched close to him. 
 " I'll bet a cent there's a snake in the grass over there," 
 he added, and was rising to go over and investigate 
 when one of the horses stood up, and he noticed that 
 the others were both 'awake. Suddenly Charlie sat 
 upright, looked toward the horses, and then up the 
 gorge. "What's the row, Charlie?" Oscar asked, 
 coming toward him. " Here you and Panza and the 
 horses were all sound asleep a moment ago, and yet 
 you all seem to know that there's something wrong, 
 while I have been wide awake and on guard, and I 
 can't find out what it is to save me." 
 
 Charlie was slowly rising to his feet, in a way to 
 indicate at least that there was nothing of any im- 
 mediate importance. He stretched and yawned, and 
 answered, "That's because we were in a position to 
 receive the first reports. Just lie down and put your 
 ear to the ground, and see what you think of it." 
 
 Oscar obeyed, listened for an instant, then springing 
 to his feet he gasped, " What is it ? For mercy's sake, 
 Charlie, what is it ? " 
 
 " What does it sound like ? " Charlie asked.
 
 THE INDIAN QUESTION. 299 
 
 " Is it an earthquake ? " Oscar whispered. 
 
 " I never met one of those things," Charlie replied ; 
 " but I reckon they would shake the ground, and this 
 is pretty steady." 
 
 " It sounds like ocean waves," Oscar added, listen- 
 ing again. " And it's growing louder. Yes ; you can 
 hear it standing up. It can't be thunder ?" and he 
 looked toward the sky. 
 
 " O, no ! " said Charlie, with vexing deliberation. 
 " Thunder usually comes from overhead. You'll have 
 to guess again." 
 
 " Well, I know it's nothing serious," Oscar ob- 
 served, "you take it so easy. It can't be Indians. 
 But it's a horrible rumble now. Could a lot of big 
 prairie schooners on the run make a noise like that?" 
 
 " I don't know," Charlie replied, walking over 
 toward the horses ; for they were all on their feet now, 
 and growing uneasy. "It's not very often that you 
 strike a lot of big prairie schooners on the run, and 
 especially not at this time of night." 
 
 "It isn't Indians, is it?" Oscar asked, as they 
 caught the horses and brought them together. 
 
 " Not by a large majority," Charlie replied, laughing. 
 " Indians never tiptoed like that in my experience." 
 
 " It's a cloud burst, a flood," Oscar said, as the 
 rumble grew louder, and the horses harder to manage ; 
 and he cast one quick, anxious glance up the narrow 
 entrance to the ravine.
 
 300 THE INDIAN QUESTION. 
 
 "It's coming from the wrong way for that. It's 
 going toward the Rockies ; don't you see ? " 
 
 " 1 don't see anything, but I hear a good deal," 
 Oscar replied, glad of a chance to pay Charlie back in 
 u small way. "Now I'll bet I know what it is," he 
 exclaimed. " It's one of those intermittent boiling 
 springs, or the now-and-again geysers of Wyoming." 
 
 This time Charlie laughed outright. " Upon my 
 word, Oscar," he replied, "you beat a Yankee for 
 guessing. I shouldn't have supposed there could have 
 been so many things to make a noise." By this time 
 it had become a steady thunder, and the very ground 
 seemed to tremble. " Ten years ago that would have 
 meant a herd of buffalo ahead of a bunch of Indians ; 
 but now I reckon it's only a big drove of cattle on a 
 stampede. Some ranch is changing its quarters, and 
 the cows have started off for themselves. There, I 
 can manage the horses now. Just you climb up that 
 bluff, and I reckon you'll see a sight worth taking in. 
 Only have a care that you don't get in front of them, 
 and if they are headed for this hole in the ground 
 give a yell, so I can get the horses out quicker than 
 lightning; for they will not stop for fire or water. 
 They'd fill this hole full, and then run over on the top 
 if there were enough of them left, after making the 
 bridge." 
 
 Oscar climbed the bluff, and the moment he reached 
 the upper plain the noise sounded so much louder that
 
 THE INDIAN QUESTION. 301 
 
 for an instant he stood almost petrified, sure that the 
 herd could not be fifty feet away. 
 
 In reality it was nearly half a mile away, but in tlie 
 great wave of sound that swept over him there was 
 the fierce tramping of twelve thousand feet, the bel- 
 lowing of three thousand throats, the clashing of horns, 
 the yelling of cowboys, and the howls of wild animals 
 that were in the path, to escape or be run down. 
 
 The moment he could gather himself together Oscar 
 looked away over the plain, and as Charlie had said, 
 saw a sight that was worth taking in. A great dark 
 shadow, like the shadow of a dense cloud sweeping 
 over the landscape, came rolling onward. Oscar 
 watched it carefully, for a moment, to be sure that the 
 direction would not bring it too near the ravine, then 
 he cast one quick, searching glance about him in every 
 quarter a habit which early becomes the second na- 
 ture of every expert ranger and sure that there was 
 nothing else about him he turned again to admire the 
 grand sight of three thousand cattle, packed in one 
 solid mass, dashing madly forward, bellowing and 
 groaning as they goaded each other on. 
 
 A great stampede is a sight full of anxiety to the 
 ranchman, full of apprehension and danger to the cow- 
 boy, full of majesty and grandeur to one who can look 
 at it without anxiety or apprehension. 
 
 The herd swept past within a quarter of a mile and 
 thundered on, down into the distant valley. Oscar
 
 302 THE INDIAN QUESTION. 
 
 watched till the dense shadow blended with others in 
 the distance, and the thunder began to die away ; then 
 he went back to Charlie, conscious of the strangest 
 condition, which no one can explain or appreciate who 
 has not realized, at some moment of life, the utter and 
 puny helplessness of man before the blind force of 
 brute muscle, centered as it is in a great stampede. 
 
 " Where do you suppose they came from ? " he 
 asked, as the little camp settled down to quiet again. 
 
 " It was just as likely from twenty miles away as 
 fi'om one," Charlie replied. " It's just about the time 
 for the early round-up in this part of the country, and 
 probably some big ranch is working its way West. 
 It takes precious little to start a herd when they're 
 bunched close and are uneasy, as they would be in 
 this cold wind. I've seen them start at sight of a man 
 getting off his horse. They are so used to seeing the 
 two together that I suppose they consider the combi- 
 nation as one being, and to see him deliberately take 
 himself apart was too much for them. A thunder- 
 storm will very often start them, and sometimes they 
 will start at nothing at all. Then if they once get 
 running on blind nerve there is nothing under heaven 
 can stop them till they are tired out. I've seen a 
 herd go straight over a bluff into the Missouri River, 
 swim across, as many as lived out the jump, and those 
 that were not drowned in crossing, start and run again 
 when they reached the other side."
 
 THE INDIAN QUESTION. 
 
 303 
 
 " Tell me some more about cattle raising, Charlie," 
 Oscar said, as he rolled himself up iu his blanket. 
 " That stampede has strung me all up, till I sha'n't 
 get to sleep to-night, unless you can talk me to sleep." 
 
 Charlie sat down, and leaning back against his sad- 
 dle began, iu a slow monotone that was calculated to 
 
 "STEERING OVEK THE TRACKLESS PLAIN." 
 
 make Oscar sleepy, if anything could. " The last 
 thing I did with cattle, before striking the Half-circle- 
 dash, was to move a ranch up this way. Not so far 
 as this, for this was all Indians then. Nearly the 
 whole of it belonged to the Sioux, the Crows, the 
 Arapahces and the Shoshones, and they were all-fired 
 ugly if any one came too near their boundaries. With 
 the first show of spring three of us started out with 
 two pack mules, and a pretty tough time we had of it 
 hunting for a good place for the range. As soon as
 
 304 THE INDIAN QUESTION. 
 
 we found a place we hurried back, to start the herd, 
 so that it could have as much time on the new range 
 as possible, to brace up from the tramp, befoi-e the 
 next winter. There was upward of four thousand 
 head, and three big four-mule schooners lugging grub 
 and bedding. It was tough work steering them over 
 the trackless plain, creeping along, so that they should 
 not be over driven, looking out to strike water, enough 
 of it, when we stopped for the night, and not too 
 much of it when we had to cross a river. And all the 
 while the cattle were nervous and fidgety, hunting for 
 some excuse to run, and every step of the way we 
 were open to sudden calls from ugly Indians. Al- 
 together it was a big relief when we reached the range 
 we had selected, and the cattle could spread them- 
 selves, while we ran up a ranch-house of cotton-wood 
 logs I say, Oscar, look up the gorge." 
 
 For a moment Oscar did not move. He could not 
 see what looking up the gorge could have to do with 
 the ranching experience which Charlie was relating. 
 He was provoked, too ; for Charlie knew very well 
 that he was doing his best to go to sleep. If he 
 should rouse enough to look up the gorge he would 
 simply have to begin the struggle all over again. 
 What did he care what there was up the gorge ? He 
 had seen enough for one night, and he proposed to go 
 to sleep. He did not move. 
 
 " Oscar ! "
 
 THE INDIAN QUESTION. 307 
 
 There was something rather sharp ami peremptory 
 about that. Possibly it was something that required 
 being looked at. He disapproved of the whole matter, 
 however, and gave a grunt that was intended to con- 
 vey a volume of his personal sentiments on the subject 
 to Charlie. Then he cautiously opened one eye, part 
 way, so that he should see as little as possible till he 
 had investigated, and pushed back the blanket that 
 was over his face. 
 
 The next instant he was sitting upright, rubbing his 
 eyes vigorously; and even then he had not looked up 
 the gorge. He had simply discovered that it was 
 broad daylight, that breakfast was ready, and that he 
 had been sound asleep for nearly six hours. 
 
 " Look up the gorge, Oscar," Charlie said again. 
 
 This time he did look up the gorge, and instantly 
 started to his feet. Right against the bright eastern 
 sky he discovered the narrow pass literally blocked 
 with dark forms, above which horned heads were toss- 
 ing, in eagerness to get at the tempting grass and 
 water in the ravine. Alone in the very front stood a 
 sturdy bull, the sunlight flashing along his back and 
 polished horns. They were a fragment of the herd 
 that had either become separated from the rest or had 
 been too far in the rear to keep up their enthusiasm, 
 and the present delay, against which they were pro- 
 testing, was caused by the fact that the bull in the 
 lead found himself unexpectedly brought face to face
 
 308 THE INDIAN QUESTION. 
 
 with Panza. Neither of them seemed satisfied as to 
 the wisest course to follow under the circumstances, 
 and while they were thinking it over Charlie said to 
 Oscar: "Let's bring them down and round them up 
 at that end of the ravine. They'll not be in our way, 
 and we shall be obliging some fellow immensely." 
 
 They called Panza off, and, mounting, Oscar fol- 
 lowed Charlie's orders, taking his first lesson as a 
 cowboy. The cattle were a little restive, especially 
 a bunch of stragglers which they brought in from the 
 surrounding plain ; but Charlie understood his busi- 
 ness too thoroughly to have any trouble ; the ravine 
 made an excellent corral, and in a short time they 
 were safely located, and Oscar and Charlie were eat- 
 ing their breakfast. 
 
 " This is the last of our meat," Charlie remarked. 
 " Unless those cowboys get along in a hurry and hand 
 us over the hind quarter of one of their steers, for 
 salvage, we've got to shoot something or go hungry." 
 
 " What are you going to do with the cows ? " Oscar 
 asked. 
 
 " Leave 'um where they are," Charlie said. " We'll 
 put a stick with a handkerchief on it on top of the 
 knoll to mark the spot. They won't care to move 
 away to-day, any way, and we shall surely meet some 
 of the boys hunting for them, before noon." 
 
 " What's the matter with my taking Sancho and 
 the shot-gun and making a little dash to see if I can
 
 THE INDIAN QUESTION. 309 
 
 see any of them or knock over anything for dinner?" 
 Oscar asked. 
 
 " There's none, if you don't go out of call and if 
 you're back in fifteen minutes. I'll be ready to start 
 in that time," Charlie replied. 
 
 Oscar was off in an instant. 
 
 " Look out that you don't run into a bunch of 
 Indians," Charlie called after him, but Oscar was too 
 far away to hear. Pie marked their hiding place by 
 sighting a dead tree and a mountain peak, in one 
 direction, and two bowlders in a line in another ; but 
 it was too fine a morning to think of any further pre- 
 cautions. It was gloriously clear and cool, and it 
 was the first time for days that he and Sancho had 
 been free from the monotonous pace of a pilgrimage. 
 Sancho started at a furious run. There was not a 
 cowboy in sight ; Oscar made sure of that, and then 
 devoted his attention strictly to the ground about him, 
 with his shot-gun ready to drop the first living thing 
 that started up within reach. 
 
 The scene was one of the most magnificent that he 
 had ever witnessed. The high tableland about him 
 was glowing in its early summer and early morning 
 glory. Broken and irregular hills and buttes, backed 
 by the giant peaks of the Rocky Mountains, rose upon 
 three sides, like the walls of a giant amphitheater. 
 Only for an instant Oscar lifted his eyes to look at 
 them, but he lost a prairie chicken in the act ; for one
 
 310 THE INDIAN QUESTION. 
 
 rose directly in front of him, but before he was ready 
 it had crossed the brow of a mound upon his right, and 
 dropped down into a ravine beyond. Chagrined, he 
 turned Saucho quickly in that direction. He caught 
 sight of it again just as it was dropping into a little 
 cluster of bushes half-way down the knoll, and had 
 made a good dash toward it, watching for it to rise 
 again, when he discovered, to his horror, a party of 
 Indians, in full view, who had overpowered and robbed 
 a white man sitting in their midst. They were indulg- 
 ing in a series of suggestive flourishes with their 
 knives, about his head, while the poor fellow was pull- 
 ing off his boots for them. 
 
 The Indians evidently saw Oscar at the same mo- 
 ment. His first thought, with a cold shiver, was to 
 turn and run for his life. They had only the horse 
 and rifle which they had stolen, between them. He 
 remembered that he had wholly ignored Charlie's in- 
 junction to keep within call, and that he had nothing 
 but a shot-gun. Before he had time to act upon it, 
 however, he had changed his mind. It was not his 
 nature to run from anything. He did not propose to 
 leave a helpless fellow-being awaiting a horrible death. 
 
 Without a moment's thought he hugged his feet 
 under Sancho and sent him bounding toward the 
 group. He threw his gun to his shoulder, and at the 
 top of his lungs shouted : " Hi, you red skins ! I've 
 got you now. Come on, boys ! Come on ! "
 
 THE INDIAN QUESTION. 313 
 
 He saw the Indians hesitate and look at each other. 
 He knew that if they stood their ground for another 
 moment lie would be in their midst, and they could 
 dispose of him instantly. He saw the Indian standing 
 by the captured horse catch the white man's rifle in 
 his hand and lay his other hand upon the horse's neck. 
 It meant that he would mount and fight. If he did 
 there could be but one result. Quick as thought he 
 leveled his gun between the broad bare shoulders, and 
 thanking fortune, even then, that it was only loaded 
 with comparatively harmless shot, and had little chance 
 to kill, he pulled the trigger and shut his eyes. 
 
 There was one wild yell from the Indians, and as 
 Oscar opened his eyes he saw the prisoner springing 
 to his feet, catching his rifle in one hand before it had 
 time to fall, and the bridle of his horse in the other, 
 before the frightened animal could move, while the 
 Indians were already several feet away, starting down 
 the ravine like frightened deer. 
 
 " Don't stop to shoot," Oscar muttered, as he rode 
 up. " Get into your outfit and on to your horse quicker 
 than lightning, for I'm all alone, and if they have 
 friends and horses near they'll be back in no time." 
 
 "You all alone?" the man gasped, looking up at 
 him in blank astonishment. 
 
 " Yes, yes ; can't you see without stopping to ask ? 
 They will see, too, if they look back. Give me your pis- 
 tol. I've nothing but this shot-gun," Oscar muttered.
 
 314 THE INDIAN QUESTION. 
 
 The man handed him his pistol without a word, raid 
 made good time in getting his belongings together. 
 A professional fireman could not have done better. 
 As one article after another flew into place, and Oscar 
 reloaded his shot-gun he heard the man say to himself : 
 
 " Alone, and with nuthin' but a pea shooter. Well, 
 I'll be busted ! " 
 
 The moment he was ready they started up the hill 
 as fast as their horses could carry them, and a little 
 later dashed down the narrow path into the ravine, 
 where Charlie sat upon his horse ready to start, igno- 
 rant that anything had happened. 
 
 The man proved to be one of the cowboys out look- 
 ing up the lost cattle, and as Charlie listened to his 
 story of the rescue his face grew sterner than Oscar 
 had ever seen it, and he muttered : 
 
 " I'm glad it has turned out as it has ; but now that 
 I know what risks you'll run, Oscar, it's the last time 
 you get out of my sight, in an Indian country, so long 
 as I have one eye that will open." 
 
 " You're just right," said the cowboy. " 'Twas the 
 bravest thing "I ever saw done, but it was foolish, no 
 mistake. No man livin' would 'a' took such chances 
 with only a pea shooter." 
 
 " Well, they're gone now, so let's talk of something 
 else," Oscar interrupted. 
 
 " Wish I knew how fur and for how long they're 
 gone," muttered the cowboy. " I must V squatted
 
 THE INDIAN QUESTION. 315 
 
 right down in a nest on 'um. All night I was fol- 
 lowin' a herd on a dead run, and soon's we had 'um 
 rounded up part of us started back to pick up the 
 others. We turned two lots, with three men each, 
 but there was some fifty or sixty more. I see you've 
 got 'um in here, for the which I'm all-fired grateful. 
 Four of us kept on and kinder spread out. About an 
 hour after sunup I was tarnal tired and hungry, and 
 coinin' to a good spot I pulled off the saddle while I 
 ate a piece o' raw ham and a hunk o' bread I'd grabbed 
 when we started. I'm sure I didn't see any Indians, 
 and I'm sure I didn't hear any; but before I had 
 three good bites they were all around me, within arm's 
 length, and it's the strangest luck that they didn't 
 brain me, first go off. I didn't show fight worth a 
 cent, and when I found they were going to let me get 
 my togs off first, I tell you I was slow about it, hopin' 
 the fellers would come up." 
 
 " Well, I'm glad I got there, even if it was foolish," 
 Oscar said. 
 
 " Hold on, youngster," the cowboy interrupted. 
 " I kinder appreciate what you did for me, and don't 
 you forget it. I only said 'twas foolish runnin' such 
 a risk. I'd no more 'a' done what you did than I'd 
 laid down in front o' that herd, last night. You're 
 ready to start, ain't you ? If you don't mind I'll go 
 on with yon fur mutual protection in case those fel- 
 lows turn up again. We'll meet the boys somewhere,
 
 316 THE INDIAN QUESTION. 
 
 unless they're scalped the which I guess not and 
 after seein' you safe away we can come back for the 
 cows and stop here to-night." 
 
 They climbed the narrow path, but they were none 
 too soon. As they reached the upper level Charlie 
 muttered : 
 
 " There they are, now ! They're coming for us in 
 good shape ! Send Panza back into the ravine with 
 the pack horse, quick. We'll have to meet them on 
 the nub. It's not a bad place, for they can't get at 
 us from behind, and when they wheel they will be too 
 far away to fire." 
 
 He quickly assigned the positions, in a half-circle, 
 taking the center himself, with the bluff behind them. 
 The cowboy's horse was down in an instant, and he 
 was flat upon the ground, with the saddle for a rifle 
 rest. Charlie dropped next. It was Oscar's first ex- 
 perience. He had tried the experiment once before, 
 in the Indian camp, by Neepawa, but he had almost 
 forgotten how it was done, and Sancho was so slow in 
 obeying that he was hardly down when, with a wild 
 yell, the Indians were upon them. 
 
 There were nine in all, all mounted, but only armed 
 with pistols. Yelling and shooting they dashed furi- 
 ously on, directly for the center of the little group, as 
 though no power could stop them. Sancho began to 
 struggle, and Oscar was obliged to lean upon his neck 
 to keep him down. He could not blame the horse for
 
 THE INDIAN QUESTION. 319 
 
 being frightened. His own hands were like ice. He 
 knew that the Indians meant death without mercy. 
 He knew that their only hope was in using their rifles; 
 but he had not strength to lift the hammer. He could 
 only crouch there, behind Sancho, vacantly staring at 
 the approaching Indians. 
 
 When they were within fifty feet they suddenly 
 wheeled to the right, dropped down behind their 
 horses, till all that could be seen of them was a leg and 
 arm, and clinging to the bare backs and leaning for- 
 ward fired their pistols from under the horses' necks. 
 The chief was not even armed with a pistol, but he 
 used an Indian bow with a fury which at least inspired 
 the rest and sent cold shivers down Oscar's back. 
 
 As they dashed past Oscar recognized the fellow 
 whose back he had lashed with shot, and at the same 
 instant the Indian recognized him. He was evidently 
 on the watch for him, for he gave a fierce yelp, like a 
 wounded wolf, brought his horse within thirty feet 
 and fired ; then whirled away. Oscar saw the dirt 
 jump where the ball struck the ground close to him, 
 and still he could not move. 
 
 Charlie's rifle was the first to sound, and Oscar saw 
 an Indian fall, throwing his horse at the same time, 
 and heard Charlie mutter : 
 
 " That fellow put a bullet through my hat, but he 
 won't do it again." 
 
 The next instant the cowboy fired, and the chief
 
 320 . THE INDIAN QUESTION. 
 
 gave a fierce yell and fell headlong, while the cowboy 
 remarked as he reloaded his Winchester : 
 
 " There's one less for Uncle Sam to feed, and he's a 
 good one to have out of the way just now." 
 
 The moment the Indians had passed, they rode away 
 and wheeled to come back in the opposite direction. 
 
 "Are you hurt, Oscar?" Charlie asked, glancing 
 over his shoulder, the moment they were past, as he 
 threw a fresh cartridge into his rifle. 
 
 "No, no! I'm all right," Oscar replied, shaking 
 himself from his lethargy. 
 
 "Well, look sharp," muttered the cowboy. "They're 
 holding their irons in their right hands, this trip, and 
 they'll hit nearer. You stop where you are," he ad- 
 ded, firing at a rather long range ; but the foremost 
 Indian fell, giving him time to reload before they 
 were again upon them. 
 
 With a wild whoop they came again. Oscar ground 
 his teeth and cocked his rifle while he watched them, 
 determined that this time he would not flinch. Sev- 
 eral times before he had aimed his rifle or pistol at an 
 enemy, but with the exception of the use he had made 
 of his shot-gun that morning, he had never pulled the 
 trigger or really intended to fire upon a human being. 
 He knew that it was a struggle for life and death be- 
 tween them now, and that their number was none too 
 large if each one did his best. He bent to his rifle, 
 determined to do his share.
 
 THE INDIAN QUESTION. 321 
 
 They came within a hundred and fifty feet, this 
 time, before they fired a shot. 
 
 " They mean biz ; look out for them ! " Charlie 
 muttered. 
 
 Oscar singled out the one who had fired at him 
 before. 
 
 They came within a hundred feet and opened fire. 
 Oscar heard the sharp zip of a bullet passing over 
 him, but his eyes were fixed upon the man he was 
 watching, waiting to see his head appear. 
 
 Their yells were horrible, and the contortions of 
 their savage faces, appearing under their horses' necks, 
 were hideous. It has been the experience of too many 
 to be counted simply the timidity of a few that there 
 is nothing which can so completely unnerve a man 
 and paralyze him to the heart, as the ghastly, distorted 
 features of a frantic, desperate 'Indian. 
 
 It was no wonder that Oscar's heart failed him at 
 first. It was much more remarkable that he lay 
 there now, ready to meet them as they returned. 
 
 Suddenly, just as his fingers tightened upon the 
 trigger, and he felt sure that another instant would 
 bring in view the mark he waited for, the Indians 
 gave a peculiar cry, and, like a flash, every horse had 
 turned, and they were riding swiftly away. 
 
 As Oscar dropped his rifle, and looked after them 
 in astonishment, he noticed that they were carrying 
 away with them the bodies of those who had been shot.
 
 322 THE INDIAN QUESTION. 
 
 He remembered what Charlie had told him of the way 
 it was done, but it was all accomplished so quickly, 
 while he was so intently following one horse with his 
 rifle, that he had seen nothing of it. 
 
 The cowboy was on his feet in an instant. 
 
 " Easy," Charlie muttered. " Maybe they've only 
 taken those fellows out of the way, and will be back 
 again in a minute, madder than before." 
 
 " I guess by the way they went that they saw some 
 one coming," the cowboy replied, "and it's high time 
 our gang turned up." 
 
 " I hope so," Charlie said, rising cautiously. " I've 
 got over caring to shoot Indians, but I haven't got to 
 where I care to have them shoot me if I can help it. 
 Are you all right, Oscar ? " 
 
 " O, yes ! " Oscar replied, springing to his feet, 
 when he noticed that his shirt was wet with blood, and 
 looking, found that a bullet had scratched his side. 
 
 " It's nothing but a touch. It'll be healed in a few 
 daysi" Charlie said, anxiously examining the spot. 
 " But it was a close call. Thank God that a miss is 
 as good as a mile." 
 
 " Why, I didn't know that I was hit at all, Charlie," 
 Oscar exclaimed; " I wish now that I had fired. I could 
 not get my strength. They took my breath away." 
 
 "That's natural," Charlie replied, as he cared for 
 <;he wound. " It's precious few people who are good 
 for much with Indians till they've been under fire
 
 THE INDIAN gl KSTION. 
 
 323 
 
 a good while longer than you have-. And to stand out 
 a rush like that iirst one is all that anybody's nerves 
 could do. There ! I reckon that will patch up all 
 right, and that some day you will be proud of that 
 scar. Halloo ! What's struck our friend ? " 
 
 The cowboy pulled off his hat and shouted, and a 
 
 THE COWBOYS' SERENADE. 
 
 moment later the three of whom he had spoken, came 
 dashing* up. 
 
 Between experiences and congratulations it would 
 have been easy to laugh and listen, all day ; for more 
 entertaining company could not easily be found than a 
 party of cowboys after a successful escapade.
 
 324 THE INDIAN QUESTION. 
 
 Oscar and Charlie were in too much haste, however, 
 to yield. They only waited long enough for another 
 breakfast of broiled steaks, prairie pancakes and cof- 
 fee, and with all they could carry of fresh beef fastened 
 to the pack, they started again, accompanied by the 
 four as a guard of honor. 
 
 Oscar thought he had never enjoyed a half-day's 
 ride so much in his life, and he began to understand 
 the sunny side of the cowboy's nature, and the real 
 character which Charlie had praised so highly. 
 
 They were full of stories and bubbling with wit, so 
 that the strain of the morning wore away, and he en- 
 tirely forgot that he was a wounded veteran, shot in a 
 battle with the Indians. 
 
 The cowboys refused to turn back till the middle of 
 the afternoon. Then they said good-by, and were a 
 few feet away when one of them shouted : 
 
 "Here's to the youngster, and his little pea 
 shooter ! " 
 
 They all wheeled their horses about, and while 
 Oscar and Charlie sat and watched and laughed, they 
 sang the chorus of " Marching Through Georgia," 
 emphasizing the cheers with shots from their pistols, 
 while their horses, in an intensely amusing but ungainly 
 bronco fashion, attempted to dance an accompaniment. 
 
 With the last note the horses wheeled again, and 
 dashed away.
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 THE LAST OF THE TRAIL. 
 
 " WELL, we have crossed Wyoming in safety, at 
 any rate," Charlie said, when they entered Colorado. 
 " If all goes well we shall stop to-night at a full- 
 fledged cow-town. It will be the first time you have 
 struck such a place, Oscar, and I'm anxious to see 
 how you like it. You'll find it another eccentricity of 
 the frontier, and another sample of what we were 
 talking about as we entered Dead wood." 
 
 He was quite right. The people, their language, 
 their dress, their manners, the buildings, the stores, all 
 had a distinct individuality. It was no trading post, 
 no farming town, no shipping point, no commercial 
 center, no mining settlement. It was a cow-town, 
 through and through. There was only one feature 
 which had run through all alike ; that curse of Amer- 
 ica's frontier life, the liquor saloon, was everywhere. 
 Whether to attract the Indian trader, the farmer, 
 the clerk, the miner or the cowboy, and make a 
 
 325
 
 326 THE LAST OF THE TRAIL. 
 
 friend of him, the glaring sign was the same, and 
 omnipresent. 
 
 The town was rough and only half-finished, like the 
 rest ; but it was not depressing, as they had been. The 
 streets were deep with dust, and the wooden sidewalks 
 irregular and half -dilapidated, but it did not seem to 
 matter so much as before. There were several ranch- 
 men about worth their millions, and cowboys earning 
 their forty dollars a month. There were Irish, Germans 
 and English, all thoroughly Americanized. There 
 were hunters in their buckskin shirts and caps, with 
 shaggy beards and uncut hair, bi.t with quick and 
 resolute eyes, taking in everything. There were mule 
 skinners in slouch hats and high-topped boots coveixt 7 
 with dirt ; stage drivers, whose bronzed faces were 
 seamed with deep lines, suggestive of the troubled 
 trails they followed. Here and there an Indian stalked 
 silently and solemnly, wrapped in his long blanket ; 
 but over all there was an air of light-hearted freedom 
 from care and anxiety. The people sauntered leisurely 
 along with an independent, though somewhat ungainly 
 swing, from not being much used to relying on their 
 legs, or lounged in front of the boarding-houses. 
 
 Between the high sidewalks were heavy prairie 
 schooners, with their great canopied tops, loading with 
 supplies for the various ranches within a hundred 
 miles. There were the pack mules of squatters and 
 the smaller ranches, waiting to receive their burdens.
 
 THE LAST OF THE TRAIL. 329 
 
 A lumbering stage coach was ready to start for some- 
 where early the next morning, and tough and awkward 
 but invaluable broncos darted about with the inevi- 
 table cowboys on their backs. 
 
 It was an ideal cattle town ; that was all ; but there 
 was something in the atmosphere which Oscar found 
 as attractive as the others had been repulsive. He 
 wondered why, and even spoke of it to Charlie, but 
 received only his favorite reply : 
 
 " I reckon it's the nature of the beast. It's so with 
 everything. You take a violin into a room where a 
 piano is being played, and when certain notes are struck 
 it will vibrate. It always will for those notes, whether 
 they come in a harmony or discord, and it never will 
 for the rest. Square pegs will not fit close in round 
 holes, and round pegs won't in square holes. You're 
 not tuned for trading or mining, and there's nothing 
 in them that vibrates in you. But when the big piano 
 of life strikes a note on ranching, no matter how 
 roughly, your violin vibrates. See ? " 
 
 " I shouldn't wonder," Oscar observed, " and I hope 
 you are right; for ever since I was old enough to 
 know anything, it has been my ambition to be a ranch- 
 man and ranger, and I mean to carry it out some way, 
 before I die. Let's turn in. I want to put in a good 
 square night of it in a real bed, to see how it seems." 
 
 There was no further danger from Indians before 
 them. There was nothing but cattle ranches, sheep
 
 330 THE LAST OF THE TRAIL. 
 
 farms and wild, branching spurs of the great mount- 
 ains, between them and Leadville. They made long 
 days ad short nights, trusting to Panza to do the 
 watching when they were not fortunate enough to 
 strike a squatter's shanty or a ranch-house at the right 
 time ; keeping as good a place as possible, knowing 
 that the horses had only to hold out a little longer, 
 when they would have abundant time to rest. 
 
 The days were not inonotonous, though they were of 
 a milder type of excitement and of more steady pushing 
 than before. 
 
 The fording of almost innumerable streams proved 
 the most difficult work of this part of the journey, and 
 once they were seriously delayed and came very near 
 losing their pack horse. 
 
 Late in the afternoon they reached the bank of a 
 river, or at least the dry bed where a river had been, 
 under more favorable circumstances. At first Charlie 
 was very decided that they had better cross and camp 
 upon the other side, but everything was so much better 
 where they were, that at last they decided to remain 
 there, and, unsaddling, turned their horses out to feed, 
 digging holes, for water, in the sand-bed of the river. 
 
 In the middle of the night Oscar was suddenly 
 roused by a hideous yell. He woke with a start which 
 sent a sharp pain to his finger tips, and perspiration to 
 his forehead. For a moment he could not tell whether 
 it was something real or a frightful dream that .Jiad
 
 THE LAST OF THE TRAIL. 331 
 
 roused him. He only knew that he was trembling 
 from head to foot, and laying his hand oil his rifle, he 
 looked cautiously about him. 
 
 The night was dark. He could distinguish only 
 the outlines of the horses, and of Pauza close be- 
 side him. She was not asleep, and she was licking 
 her chops in a fashion to indicate that something was 
 not just to her liking; but she did not seem much dis- 
 turbed. Charlie was lying on the ground at a little 
 distance, apparently asleep. 
 
 Oscar made up his mind that it must have been a 
 dream though a very real and very bad one and 
 hoping that he might never dream out such a fiendish 
 yell again, he turned over and was just dropping 
 asleep once more, when, from all about him, from 
 every side at once, there rang out the most frightful 
 screech that could possibly be imagined. 
 
 It sounded as though all the Indians in the West 
 had surrounded them, and as though each one was in 
 the very act of scalping a pale face. 
 
 With a start which seemed to lift him completely 
 from the ground, Oscar caught his rifle again and 
 started to crawl to Charlie, wondering how he could 
 possibly have slept through it ; afraid to rise or speak 
 lest he should attract attention, and shuddering as 
 the fearful thought flashed through his mind that pos- 
 sibly Charlie might have been killed where he lay. 
 He could almost touch him, when Charlie gave an
 
 332 THE LAST OF THE TRAIL. 
 
 impatient toss under his blanket, and, evidently speak- 
 ing to himself, muttered : 
 
 " Plague take those coyotes ! I can't sleep." 
 Oscar lay down again even more cautiously and 
 quietly than he got up. He had been afraid of at- 
 tracting the Indians and showing them where he was ; 
 but he was more afraid of attracting Charlie's atten- 
 tion and showing him what a fool he had been. He 
 would have received very charitable attention, how- 
 ever, if he had attracted it ; for every plainsman 
 knows that there are no two things in nature which 
 so closely resemble each other, in disposition, general 
 habits and accomplishments, as coyotes and Indians ; 
 and many a man of long experience has shuddered for 
 his scalp at the first yelp of a pack of coyotes in 
 an Indian country. Oscar had occasionally seen them 
 and often found traces of them. He had sometimes 
 heard a solitary bark ; but he had never heard their 
 concerted howl before, and would have been very will- 
 ing never to hear it again. They were not over sensi- 
 tive concerning his wishes, however, and it was a long- 
 time before he could get to sleep. It seemed as though 
 he had hardly succeeded, when he was roused by 
 another incomprehensible noise. It was so soft and 
 musical this time, that it was rather pleasant to listen 
 to. Oscar was so sleepy that, though he knew there 
 was something out of order, he had hard work to 
 rouse himself sufficiently to wonder what it was. He
 
 THE LAST OF THE TRAIL. 333 
 
 thought there must be a pond somewhere that Panza 
 had found, and that she was taking a bath in it. It 
 sounded so. Then he decided that other travelers had 
 reached the spot, and were pouring water into some- 
 thing for their horses. He remembered how hard it 
 was for the horses to get their heads down into the 
 holes they dug the night before, and thought it a very 
 good idea. In time it came over him that the sound 
 was steadily increasing, and, making a great struggle, 
 he roused himself, sat erect, and looked about him. 
 
 There was a splashing, gurgling sound, very distinct 
 now, and very close at hand. He did not propose to 
 make a fool of himself twice in one night, so he took 
 his rifle, and, rising quietly, was moving toward the 
 noise, when, in a sleepy voice, Charlie muttered : 
 
 " It's no use, Oscar. We're caught on this side. 
 It's too late now, and we've got to make the best of it." 
 
 " All right," Oscar replied, but he was wide awake 
 at last, and proposed to see for himself what was going 
 on. A moment later he discovered a bubbling, boil- 
 ing, angry river rushing between the banks that were 
 parched and dry the night before. It was a hundred 
 feet wide, and apparently deep enough for navigation. 
 
 "These intermittent rivers are all-fired uncertain 
 things," Charlie remarked, as they sat upon the ground 
 eating their breakfast. "They live on storms and 
 cloud-bursts in the mountains. They appear under 
 the clearest sky, and the worst of it is, the mischief
 
 334 THE LAST OF THE TRAIL. 
 
 they work in their bottoms. That was all sand we 
 dug in last night, you know, and the chances are that 
 it is quicksand this morning. If we go down the river 
 for goodness knows how far we shall strike the 
 stage route, I suppose, and probably find a bridge of 
 some sort, or a paved bottom, if they're not washed 
 away. If we wait for the water to run off, it may take 
 an hour or it may take a week. If we go ahead and 
 try to cross here, we may find a bottom as hard as 
 rock, or we may find no bottom at all. What do you 
 say?" 
 
 " I don't much fancy running the risk of losing 
 Sancho," Oscar replied; "but I'm sure I don't fancy 
 losing a day hunting for a bridge that perhaps isn't 
 there." 
 
 " I don't think there's much risk for Sancho," 
 Charlie said ; " he's too quick on his feet. We'll 
 split up the line according to the value of the horses, 
 for the first is not likely to do more than soften up the 
 stuff. It's not over three or four feet deep if they 
 don't cut through. Now we're all ready. I reckon 
 this pack is high enough not to get wet. You start 
 first. Hold your feet up behind. It's safer than in 
 front if you may want to use them quick. Just make 
 straight for the other side. If it's soft and Sancho's 
 feet stick and he slows down, just start him on. Keep 
 him going if you can, and if you find he's stuck, get 
 off quick and swim ashore. Don't let your own feet
 
 THE LAST OF THE TRAIL. 335 
 
 touch bottom, either, and we'll easily get him out be- 
 fore he is fast." 
 
 This was a new experience for Oscar, and he watched 
 carefully each dainty step which Sancho took in feel- 
 ing his way across the*" river. Twice he needed a little 
 urging, but Oscar was not sure that it was on account 
 of a soft bottom, till, with only a slight wetting, he 
 climbed the opposite bank and looked back to see 
 Charlie in the middle of the stream, his feet in the 
 water, using his spurs, his horse lunging and flounder- 
 ing, and the pack horse literally lying back in the 
 lead line. 
 
 Charlie soon found that it was impossible to pull 
 both horses through, and, dropping the Une, only by 
 the utmost urging got his own horse up the bank. 
 
 For a moment the pack horse struggled to follow, 
 then deliberately gave up, and looking toward them 
 stood perfectly still, sinking deeper and deeper. 
 
 " A horse is the biggest fool that breathes when 
 there's anything out of order round his feet," Charlie 
 muttered, as he caught the end of a coil of rope he 
 had taken from the pack and hung on his saddle. 
 " He'll kick his legs off if there's anything behind him 
 that he doesn't understand. He'll thrash himself to 
 pieces if the only thing that will save him is keeping 
 still, and there's that idiot out there could come through 
 well enough, if he would only flax round, but he won't 
 move a hair, unless we can make him, till he has sunk
 
 330 THE LAST OF THE TRAIL. 
 
 above his shoulders, then he will deliberately lie down 
 and drown. Well, he might as well die of a broken 
 neck as that way," he added, as he fastened a wooden 
 pin in a knot he had made, two feet from the end of 
 the noose, to keep it from slipping too far. " If his 
 spinal column holds, we'll save his life, and if not 
 we'll save him from drowning. Many's the cow I've 
 pulled out of a marsh by this means ; but a cow's dif- 
 ferent. She's got horns to catch .on to, where you 
 won't choke her, and a backbone that is the toughest 
 that's made. Now, then ! I presume I'll scare that 
 ninny so that he'll jump and try to throw himself," he 
 muttered, as he swung the rope round his head. 
 
 " I'll swim out and put it on," Oscar said ; but 
 Charlie replied : 
 
 " O, no ! I'll get it there; ' r and the rope went flying 
 through the air. 
 
 The horse did attempt to dodge, but he threw his 
 head up, instead of to one side, and the noose fell 
 directly over it. Before he had time to drop his head 
 Charlie had drawn the rope till the knot met the pin. 
 
 " Pretty close fit ? " he asked the horse, and added, 
 " It'll loosen round your windpipe and tighten over 
 your ears directly, if it don't slip off." Then twisting 
 the end over his saddle he started his horse up the 
 bank. 
 
 For a moment the pack horse seemed inclined to 
 rebel, and Oscar thought his neck would surely break.
 
 THE LAST OP THE TRAIL. 337 
 
 Then he began to struggle and advanced a foot or two ; 
 but the moment Charlie stopped pulling he stood still. 
 
 " Look at that, will you ? " Charlie muttered. " He 
 thinks it's a seaside resort, and he wants to stay all 
 summer. Or else he's bound to get his neck stretched 
 if he can. It always was too short. Well, here's 
 another try." 
 
 By slow degrees they brought him out, but it was 
 nearly noon before they were in a condition to start 
 again. When they were under way once more Oscar 
 said : 
 
 " That was my first experience with quicksand, and 
 I'll not have another if I can help it. The next time 
 I shall vote to go round." 
 
 The scenery about them grew constantly more mag- 
 nificent. Wild ravines and beetling ledges were in 
 grand confusion ; rivers cutting their paths through 
 rocky gorges ; cliffs and mountain peaks ; dark defiles 
 and beautiful ravines where the grass was green and 
 the wild flowers in their glory. 
 
 " We're pretty well out of the cattle country, now," 
 Charlie said, "and that's what we shall indulge in for 
 the next stage." He pointed to a drove of sheep they 
 were approaching. " There's lots of them in Colorado. 
 And there's money in sheep, too. More than there is 
 in cows, I reckon ; but I would rather spend my life 
 in state prison, if it wasn't for the name of it, than to 
 be a sheep herder."
 
 338 
 
 THE LAST OF THE TRAIL. 
 
 " I can't see why," Oscar said, as he stood watching 
 the sheep. 
 
 " Why, just look at it," Charlie exclaimed in dis- 
 gust. " All the year round they live in that little box 
 of a cabin, with those corrals and sheep sheds about 
 them. Every night the sheep have to be shut up, and 
 
 at daylight they begin to bleat to get out again, while 
 the herder is rushing down his breakfast. They are 
 let out through a narrow shoot and counted, to be sure 
 they're all there, and the herder starts after them, on 
 foot, with a coat on his arm, in case of storm, a can- 
 teen hung on his shoulder and a book in his pocket. 
 All he has to do is to walk on till they are ready to 
 stop, and then stop till they are ready to go on again, 
 and follow them if he can when they are frightened by 
 a coyote or a piece of paper, and run like mad till they
 
 THE LAST OF THE TRAIL. 339 
 
 fetch up against a cliff, if they happen to start on a 
 level with the bottom, or run right over the edge and 
 break their necks, if they are on the top. They are 
 nothing but lumps of mutton stuck on legs ; all wool, 
 and no sense. That dog along with him does all the 
 work, and does it a great deal better than the man 
 could. He does that same, day after day, the year 
 round. The only change that comes, even with winter, 
 is that he dresses a little warmer, and don't sit around 
 quite so much. If a prairie storm breaks on him in 
 the winter, before he expects it, the woolly idiots will 
 start and run before the wind. If they get tuckered 
 before they kill themselves by running over a cliff or 
 the like, they stop and begin to bunch up, climbing 
 higher and higher on top of each other, and if the storm 
 proves at all long or severe, the bottom ones are, of 
 course, smothered, and the coyotes and wolves get the 
 top ones, while the herder sometimes saves a few from 
 the middle. In the meantime he cannot leave them, no 
 matter how long the storm lasts, though he has nothing 
 to do but stand and look on and freeze to death. 
 Sheep do have an everlasting pull on life, though, 
 especially against starvation. That terribly tough win- 
 ter, ten years ago, they dug some sheep out alive that 
 had been under eleven feet of snow for three weeks. 
 That sounds wild, but I think it's true. They said 
 that the creatures had worked their way about till they 
 reached the bottom, and got at the grass there. Then
 
 340 THE LAST OF THE TRAIL. 
 
 every night they have to be driven back to the ranch 
 again, corraled and counted once more to see that 
 none have been lost through the day. In May comes 
 the lambing, and every one puts to like a professional 
 hospital nurse to keep the little fools alive for the 
 first three months or so, before they are able to take 
 care of themselves. In June comes the shearing, and 
 fellows get six cents apiece for barbering the stupid 
 things. Then the biggest part of them have to be 
 dipped in a big trough, with water and a little tobacco 
 in it, to cure the scab. O, yes ! there's money in it ; 
 but compare that life with the life of a cow-puncher, 
 and what do you think of it ? " 
 
 " Not much," Oscar replied, fully enthused with the 
 prejudices of his chosen profession against sheep. 
 
 Their next stopping place for the night was a pic- 
 turesque little village in this isolated sheep-raising 
 district. It was, as it must be, a sheep-town. 
 
 " I declare ! " Oscar exclaimed. " I thought we'd 
 seen every variety of settlement imaginable; but if 
 here isn't another lay-out. How woolly and stupid 
 and pretty and neat everything is here ! " 
 
 There were only three stores in the entire village, 
 and two of those were locked. There was not a liquor 
 sign to be seen anywhere. 
 
 They entered the only store that was open, but even 
 then they had to rouse the dealer, who was sound 
 asleep, stretched out upon the counter.
 
 THE LAST OF THE TRAIL. 341 
 
 After hearing what they wanted, he yawned and 
 stretched, and replied that he was out of it, but that 
 the store opposite had some. They told him that the 
 door was locked. He yawned again and stretched, 
 and finally said that he believed " Bill did say he was 
 goin' out to his sheep ranch, this arternoon." There- 
 upon he got up, invited them to follow him, led the 
 way to the house next Bill's store, asked for the key, 
 went in, put up the required articles, put the pay in 
 the till, locked the door, returned the key, and went 
 back to finish his nap. 
 
 "Did you ever see anything like it?" Oscar ex- 
 claimed. " Upon my word, I am so sleepy myself that 
 I can hardly keep my eyes open. Let's turn in, and 
 make a big daylight start." 
 
 The whole world could liardly produce a counterpart 
 of the magnificent scenery which grew grander every 
 hour about them, as they wound in and out among 
 the deep defiles, climbed the steep declivities or crept 
 along the sides of precipitous ledges, nearer and nearer 
 to Leadville. 
 
 All in vain Oscar tried to arrange with himself some 
 plan of action. He only knew that every step of ad- 
 vance made him so much the more anxious to be there, 
 and at last, travel-worn, dusty, tired and sunburned, 
 they entered Leadville ; Leadville with all its tips and 
 downs, socially and physically ; Leadville, without a 
 street that is level, without a citizen whose life has
 
 342 THE LAST OF THE TRAIL. 
 
 been more smooth ; with all its smoke and dirt from 
 the great smelting furnaces ; with all its swift vicissi- 
 tudes, from grub stakes, gone, to millions made in an 
 hour. Leadville, high up among the grand mountains, 
 how many strange people have come to you, with how 
 many strange fears behind them, and how many 
 strange hopes ahead ? And how have you treated 
 them ? How have they gone away from you ? And, 
 of them all, who ever came to you with stranger hopes 
 and stranger fears than Oscar Peterson ? What have 
 you in store for him ? How will he go away from you ?
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 THE MAN INSIDE. 
 
 OSCAR grew more and more thoughtful as they ap- 
 proached their destination, and at supper he hardly 
 spoke a word. Charlie easily appreciated his silence, 
 and knew that it would be better to respect it than 
 try to interrupt it ; hence, when Oscar proposed a walk, 
 after supper, Charlie made an excuse that he must 
 attend to some arrangements about the horses, so that 
 Oscar could be left entirely to himself. He was not 
 in need of advice or protection, now. He was upon 
 the eve of a battle that must be skillfully fought, aiit^ 
 he needed solitude to lay out his campaign. 
 
 Charlie was especially anxious, too, that Oscar 
 should not ask his advice, for he felt utterly unable to 
 give it. Except through some accident, he could not 
 see how their mission in Leadville could possibly be 
 accomplished, and accidents never happen when one is 
 on the watch for them. 
 
 " I don't suppose there is any use in wearing this 
 343
 
 344 THE MAN INSIDE. 
 
 thing," Oscar remarked, taking off his belt and pistol. 
 " It seems odd to begin to be half-civilized again." 
 
 He laid the belt on the table and went out alone. 
 He had been thinking all day, all the month, in fact, 
 and there was nothing new to think about, yet he 
 was thoroughly wrapped in his thoughts, and wandered 
 down the street with his hands in his pockets, his hat 
 pulled down over his forehead, and his eyes on the 
 ground. He was asking himself what he had come 
 there for ; and to his utter astonishment he found that 
 with all his thinking he had not thought out an answer 
 to that first question. Surely he had come to find the 
 man who shot his father ; but what then ? He wanted 
 to kill him ; but that was out of the question. He 
 had not proof enough of anything to bring an open 
 charge against him, and he began to realize the force 
 of Charlie's advice to wait till some accident should 
 place the man in his power. 
 
 He had not thought much about it at the time when 
 it was given, for they were still a long way from Lead- 
 ville, and the rest of the journey demanded their im- 
 mediate attention. Now there was nothing more to do. 
 They had reached Leadville. In the morning they 
 could easily find the man, and the thought that from 
 that moment it was simply " wait," was almost more 
 than he could endure, in prospect, even. 
 
 In his worn and dust-grimed clothes he was not an 
 object to attract attention. No one noticed him, and
 
 THE MAN INSIDE. 345 
 
 he paid very little attention to any one. It was not 
 so much that he was deeply engaged in thought, MS 
 that he was trying to think ; for he smiled when a 
 little boot-black accosted him with, " Shine yer boots, 
 gent? " and looking down at his dusty boots he won- 
 dered how they would look if they really were sinned. 
 He heard the newsboys calling the Chronicle, J?clij>xc 
 and Reveille, and wondered what the great world had 
 been doing while he was so far away from it, out on 
 the plains. He caught snatches of conversations, and 
 said to himself that if he were to be dropped, blind- 
 folded, into a frontier town, he was sure that he could 
 tell, in an instant, what sort of a place it was. " How 
 deep are you?" "Struck it rich?" "Contact," 
 " Carbonates," " Claims," " Surveyed in," " Pans 
 out," " Runs high," " How does she assay ? " seemed 
 to form the greater part of the English language, as 
 it was spoken in a mining town, whether by high or 
 low, magnate or pauper. He heard ragged and illiter- 
 ate fellows talking of millions as though they were 
 dimes, on one side of him, while on the other side a 
 delicate and refined, but pale and haggard boy, not 
 much older than himself, in the very best of English 
 was asking for enough to purchase a loaf of bread to 
 keep him from starvation. He caught a remark made 
 by one of two men standing alone at the corner of an 
 alley: "I don't go pards with nobody, Bill, but our 
 claims ain't neither one of 'urn worth what it orter be,
 
 346 THE MAN INSIDE. 
 
 unless'n they're joined. Now I'll tell yer what I'll 
 do ; I'll give or take at one million and a half, down." 
 
 Oscar was close beside them as the other replied: 
 " Another fellow took out that claim for me, and I 
 sha'n't have the papers, clean, for a week, yet. But 
 I've got a place up in Manitoba nigh a hundred 
 thousand acres ; mine.s, stock farm, wheat, cattle range, 
 and a village included that's worth more than two 
 and a half millions, if it is a cent. I'll swap that for 
 your claim." 
 
 By that time Oscar had turned slowly, and entered 
 the dark alley behind them. As he passed he very 
 carefully noted the features of one of the men. It 
 was not the man who owned the farm in Manitoba. 
 Pie stood with his back toward him. It was a strik- 
 ing face which he saw, however, and he felt sure that 
 he should know it if he saw it again. He lost a sen- 
 tence or two which followed, but the moment he knew 
 that he was hidden in the shadows he turned and 
 walked back. This time as he approached, one of 
 them was saying : " It's time the stage was off, this 
 minute. Let the thing lie open till I get back." 
 
 With that he started down the street. Oscar was 
 close behind him. He gave one quick glance at the 
 man who was left behind. It was not the man from 
 Manitoba, so he fixed his eyes upon the other and 
 followed. There was no time to consider what to do 
 He was simply determined not to lse sight of him.
 
 THE MAN INSIDE. 347 
 
 A man was holding the stage door open, evidently 
 waiting for him, as he hurried up. He entered with- 
 out a word. The door closed with a bang, the whip 
 sounded with an impatient crack, and the stage 
 started. 
 
 Oscar reached the spot in time to catch a single 
 glimpse of the interior. There were several people 
 there ; he could not tell how many, and a lantern, 
 dimly burning, hung in the center of the stage. 
 
 "Where is that stage going?" Oscar asked the 
 man who had stood by the door ; but he was out of 
 patience at the best ; he had just turned to speak to a 
 policeman, and withal Oscar was so little acquainted 
 with the localities in the neighborhood of Leadville, 
 that he could only make out from the short reply that, 
 after several stops, the stage connected with an early 
 morning express train, somewhere, and then returned 
 to Leadville. 
 
 The stage was already almost out of sight. He 
 turned quickly to the two men, exclaiming, " Will one 
 of you please send to the Ranchman's Hotel and tell 
 Half-circle-dash Charlie that I have taken this stage 
 and will be back in the morning ? " and without wait- 
 ing for an answer he started on a run after the stage. 
 
 The reply was not very polite or promising, and if 
 Oscar had heard it, it would only have added to the 
 difficulties of his present situation, by making it very 
 doubtful if Charlie's anxiety over his non-appearance
 
 348 THE MAN INSIDE. 
 
 was to be relieved. He would not have stopped, how- 
 ever, for he had done the best he could to notify Charlie, 
 and he proposed to follow the man inside the stage at 
 all hazards. 
 
 There may have been other and wiser ways to have 
 accomplished the end, but he had no time to sit down 
 and think it over, and a boy of sixteen may be par- 
 doned, at such a moment, for following his first im- 
 pulse at the expense of sober second thought. 
 
 The policeman and his companion expressed their 
 opinions in a thoroughly Western and purely American 
 fashion, as they watched the retreating figure, then 
 they laughed, and dropped the matter entirely. 
 
 Three hours later, when the policeman was being re- 
 lieved, the officer in charge asked him if he had seen 
 anything of a young ranger without firearms, who had 
 been missing since early in the evening, and whose 
 absence was causing considerable excitement in the 
 Ranchman's Hotel. He replied that he had not, but 
 as he was walking home he recalled the incident, and 
 went round to the hotel to see if there was any con- 
 nection between the two. 
 
 In the meantime Oscar had a good run to overtake 
 the stage, which gave him time to remember that he 
 had no money with him to pay his fare, and that he 
 could hardly accomplish what he was after by riding 
 inside, even if he had. He did not stop to consider 
 any other means to the same end, but decided to catch
 
 THE MAN INSIDE. 349 
 
 on behind and, if possible, find a seat on the baggage 
 truck. He found the great leather boot drawn down, 
 but there was only a single trunk beneath it and room 
 enough to stow himself away. Before long it began 
 to rain. The night was cold and the boot was, after 
 all, a great convenience. 
 
 " If this trunk should stop before he does, it would 
 be pretty bad for me," he said to himself, as he clung 
 to the leather straps to prevent being jolted from the 
 rack altogether ; for the road was rough and the night 
 as dark as it might be. 
 
 Only a few miles out the stage stopped at a mining 
 settlement, and two men got out. With fear and 
 trembling Oscar peeked from under the curtain ; but 
 the trunk was not disturbed, and he was sure, both 
 from their voices and dress, that neither of them was 
 the man he was following. A moment later they were 
 rumbling and bumping on again, and soon it was evi- 
 dent, from the sounds, that they were dropping down 
 into a gulch of some sort. 
 
 The rain rattled upon the leather curtain. The 
 wind rushed and sighed among the branches of pine- 
 trees. The brake groaned and grated as it was held 
 almost continually against the wheels. The horses' 
 hoofs splashed upon the wet road, and now and then 
 the sharp crack of the whip was followed by a lurch of 
 the coach, and Oscar had to cling desperately to the 
 straps for a moment, till the horses slowed down again.
 
 350 THE MAN INSIDE. 
 
 Suddenly there was a change. There was a shout 
 from in front and a sharp crack of the whip ; but the 
 stage did not start up with a jerk. It simply jolted 
 to one side and stood still. Something must have 
 broken. Oscar cautiously lifted a corner of the cur- 
 tain. The coach was close against a rocky ledge, on 
 that side, and the ledge was bright as day. lie was 
 sure that no stage lantern gave a light like that, and 
 as his eye ran along the dark shadow cast by the coach, 
 against the rock, he could easily mark the outlines of 
 the driver and whipmaii, and that their hands were up. 
 It flashed upon him, then, that the stage had been 
 held up, and that they were in the hands of high- 
 waymen. He smiled as he thought of the ludicrous 
 side of the situation, so far as he was concerned, and 
 wondered what he had about him that he could give 
 up, in case they should look under the boot. 
 
 In an instant, however, before a word had been 
 spoken, there was a crash from a revolver, and a sharp 
 groan from the man inside, followed by the remark 
 from outside the stage, " Ef yer hedden't 'a' pulled 
 yer shooter, Bill, ye'd not 'a' kotched it quite so quick, 
 mebbe." 
 
 The whole situation was thus entirely changed. 
 That man inside was something in which Oscar took 
 a lively interest. The highwaymen were upon the 
 right and toward the front. The rocky ledge was on 
 the left. Quickly emerging from his hiding-place, at
 
 THE MAN INSIDE. 351 
 
 the most distant corner, Oscar stepped upon the wheel 
 and cautiously looked over the top of the stage. Only 
 two inen were visible two shadows, in the light 
 which the ledge reflected back from a powerful dark 
 lantern which one of them held full upon the stage. 
 With the other hand he covered the two upon the box, 
 with a heavy six-shooter. The other man was evi- 
 dently the one who fired the shot, and, pistol in hand, 
 he was now slowly approaching the coach. 
 
 Oscar felt for his pistol, forgetting that he had left 
 it at the hotel. For an instant he hesitated. The 
 sense of being unarmed weakened him. His head 
 was in the light of the lantern, but the attention of the 
 two men was so thoroughly absorbed that neither of 
 them thought of looking at that back corner of the 
 roof. He could easily climb down again, and doubt- 
 less remain hidden, or he could even show himself 
 without much fear of harm. The only thing that lie 
 could not do without danger was to attempt to check 
 those men. Btit it looked as though they intended to 
 kill the man inside, and that one thing Oscar was de- 
 termined to resist. How should he do it ? Why had 
 he left his pistol behind him ? 
 
 These thoughts flashed across his mind, but his eyes 
 were busy^ looking about him. Two iron shoes, used 
 to hold the back wheels, upon the worst hills, lay on 
 the roof of the coach, within his reach. \\ hile that 
 lantern burned he was helpless. It was the lightning
 
 352 THE MAN INSIDE. 
 
 work of the brain in an emergency. He caught one 
 of those iron shoes the one without a chain and 
 with all his strength hurled it at the lantern. 
 
 If he missed it, his work would be over. And if he 
 had calculated his chances of missing, he would never 
 have fired that shoe. But he did not calculate any- 
 thing. He fired the shoe, and tire next instant the 
 iron crashed into the lantern, smashing it to atoms 
 and striking the man behind it a sharp blow. His 
 pistol flashed, but without aim, and did no harm, while 
 a volley of curses sounded in the darkness, mingling 
 with the groans of the man inside. 
 
 Oscar threw himself upon the top of the stage, 
 caught the other iron shoe in his hand, and lying at 
 full length, holding the end of the shoe over the edge 
 of the iron rail, in much the appearance and outline 
 of a pistol, he shouted : 
 
 "Now, then, gentlemen, the first man to move gets 
 a touch of this." He tapped the shoe against the rail. 
 
 All that they could see in the darkness was just as 
 good as a large navy revolver, and what they heard 
 could not have been better made by the barrel of 
 a six-shooter. Only waiting a moment to note the 
 effect, Oscar continued, " Drive on, Jerry ; the road is 
 clear." 
 
 To his own absolute astonishment, the whipman 
 cracked his whip, the driver took his foot from the 
 brake and caught up the reins, the horses started at a
 
 THE MAN INSIDE. 353 
 
 rapid pace, and the two shadows stood motionless till 
 they were lost in the darkness. 
 
 What Oscar really did expect, he himself could not 
 have told. Realizing his own position, it did not seem 
 possible to him that men should be such fools. His 
 words were only the inspiration of the intense emer- 
 gency of the moment. He did not know how closely 
 he had imitated the clear, fearless voice of authority 
 with which Charlie gave his commands to the three 
 highwaymen in the other gulch. It seemed so utterly 
 absurd that two road agents could be reduced, and two 
 armed stage men relieved of fear and set at liberty, by 
 a sixteen-year-old boy, holding an iron stage shoe in 
 his hand, that he lay there, in silence, trying to make 
 himself believe that it was a dream. 
 
 He was quickly reminded of the reality, however, 
 for before the stage was out of hearing, one of the fel- 
 lows behind called : 
 
 "Yer needn't 'a' been so tarnal pertickeler. We 
 ain't a-jumpin' no claims ternight. All we wanted 
 was the man inside. Reckon he's got a dose o' in- 
 t'rest, any way, and he'll git the, principal afore he 
 hears the end on us." 
 
 Then all was still but the splashing of the rain, and 
 the wheels and the horses' feet, and the cracking of 
 the whip and the groaning of the man inside. 
 
 " Where in thunder did you come aboard ? " the 
 man asked, without looking back.
 
 354 THE MAN INSIDE. 
 
 " I climbed up here when you were standing by the 
 rock," Oscar replied quickly; and to prevent the man 
 from questioning him further he asked, " Where did 
 those two men come from ? " 
 
 " Reckon they're two we brought from Leadville, 
 who got off at Happy Holler, and skipped across the 
 gulch," the man muttered in a surly way ; for it does 
 not increase a stage driver's good nature to be held up. 
 
 " What's the matter with the man inside ? " Oscar 
 asked. 
 
 " Reckon he's got a hole in him," the whipman 
 replied, and the two laughed. 
 
 " I mean, what did they want of him ? " Oscar re- 
 peated rather sharply, for he did not relish their fun. 
 
 " Dunno," ejaculated the driver. " Mebbe . he's 
 been jumpin' some claim ; got their diggin's surveyed 
 in ag'in 'um, or suthin'. They acted like they'd been 
 livin' on snaps fur one while, ter hold up a stage with 
 only one man in it, and go shoot him the first lick." 
 
 "What's snaps? "Oscar said, simply to keep the 
 man talking for a moment more, while he thought out 
 what to do. 
 
 " Waal, I reckon you ain't frum these diggin's, nor 
 iiowhar in Collerady," the driver replied, and turned 
 his attention to the horses. Oscar thought that was 
 all the response he was to receive, and was not at all 
 particular for more, but a moment later the man con- 
 tinued : " When a feller can't wash his livin' outer the
 
 THE MAN INSIDE. 355 
 
 ground, in these parts, he's got ter take his gun, hasn't 
 he, ef he don't wauter starve, and go out an' snap 
 at sutliin' ; and ef he don't bag no more'n these ones 
 did ternight, he's jest got ter live on them snaps, 
 luisn'the?" 
 
 Oscar was not in a mood to reply. He simply 
 remarked : 
 
 " Haul up a second, please ; I want to see if I can 
 do anything for the man inside." 
 
 The driver was grouty, and evidently more anxious 
 to get out of the gulch than stop to attend to his 
 passenger. At first he did not seem inclined to slow 
 down at all. Oscar was determined, however, and as 
 he deliberately stepped between the two, the driver 
 reluctantly put his foot on the brake. 
 
 " Whar's yer irons ? " he asked, as Oscar passed 
 in front of him. " Better not leave 'um up here, fur 
 ye inought want 'um ag'in." 
 
 " I haven't got any," Oscar replied, as he felt for 
 the first step down. " I didn't have anything but 
 your old brake-shoe. The man inside has got a pistol, 
 and I can borrow that if necessary." 
 
 The driver grabbed him by the shoulder, and stared 
 at him for a moment by the light of the box lantern. 
 
 " You hain't got no irons ? " he muttered. " Waal, 
 I'm bio wed ! But you hain't, and that's no lie. Jim, 
 jest you take a good look at this youngster, will ye ? 
 an' be ready to swear to't ; fur when I tell the boys
 
 356 THE MAN INSIDE. 
 
 'bout this night's biz, thar ain't a soul in Leadville 
 will believe me, well es they know me." Then turn- 
 ing to Oscar, in a manner very different from before, 
 he added : " Yes, sir ; I'll hold up fur yer ter git in- 
 side, sir ; an' excuse me fur not invitin' yer outer the 
 reen afore. I didn't notict yer hadn't got yer gum- 
 coat on. An' 'low me ter say, sir, whens'ever yer my 
 way ag'in, jest you squat on any claim o' mine you 
 come acrost. I'll allers count it an honor, an' it'll 
 never cost yer a dime." 
 
 The moment the man let go of his shoulder, Oscar 
 jumped, and as he entered and drew the coach door 
 together behind him, the stage started again. 
 
 All was still and dark inside. Oscar lit a match, 
 and found the swinging lantern. It had evidently 
 been extinguished as a precaution, before the hold-up. 
 It gave out a dim, flickering light, but enough to dis- 
 close the form of the wounded man, lying upon the 
 back seat. He was breathing heavily, and occasionally 
 groaning. 
 
 Oscar had had very little experience in gun-shot 
 wounds, but he found the bullet-hole in the man's 
 side, did what he could to stop the blood, arranged 
 the seats so that he could lie more comfortably and 
 could not fall, and then turned away with a shudder, 
 and sat down with his back toward him. Neither of 
 them had spoken a word. 
 
 There was one mark which he could easily have
 
 THE MAN INSIDE. 357 
 
 found, which would have told him at once if this was 
 the man he was seeking ; but Oscar did not dare to 
 look for it. He did not dare to know, alone in that 
 dim, rumbling stage coach, that the helpless being 
 lying on the seat behind him, was the man who shot 
 his father. 
 
 His fingers were clutched till the nails cut into his 
 palms. He ground his teeth till they ached. He 
 knew that he was right. He knew that if he looked 
 he should find a finger missing upon one hand. Every 
 throb of his heart told him that he was close beside 
 the man he wanted. He knew that the man was in 
 his power, to do precisely as he would with him ; that 
 a better and safer opportunity could not have been 
 prepared. He remembered Charlie's warning, that 
 there would be no chance for him in an open struggle 
 for justice. Had he not said to himself, early in the 
 evening, that his only hope lay in some accident that 
 should place the man in his power and had not the 
 accident occurred, even without his waiting for :in 
 hour ? And was there not something almost providen- 
 tial in the strange combination of incidents which had 
 led him on, step by stop, to this most perfect situation 
 he could have planned ? 
 
 The man was conscious, fully conscious, enough to 
 realize that it was revenge, and understand who it 
 \v;is that would accomplish it ; yet if his dead body 
 was taken from the stage at the next stopping-place,
 
 358 THE MAN INSIDE. 
 
 even the driver on the box would never dream but 
 what it was the bullet that had killed him. 
 
 Every nerve and muscle in Oscar's body trembled 
 and quivered. He longed to turn about and catch 
 the man by the throat; to watch him struggle and 
 strangle ; to look into his eyes and see him die, while 
 he whispered in his ear, " You could escape the law, 
 you coward ! but you could not escape from me." 
 
 Why was he brought there if not for that ? Every 
 savage passion of his nature seemed boiling and seeth- 
 ing in him. He shuddered to realize what fearful 
 thoughts he was capable of thinking, and to know that 
 only one slender thread of doubt, which an instant 
 could dissipate, was restraining him from putting 
 those horrible thoughts into actions that would live 
 with him just as long as his heart beat. He clung to 
 that doubt, for strength to resist the temptation, as a 
 drowning man might to a straw. 
 
 The man behind became more restless, moaning and 
 talking to himself. 
 
 " I must get away from here," he muttered. " I 
 must sell out and get away. Why didn't I kill the 
 boy, too? Then I could have got a clean title to the 
 mine without waiting. I could sell out and go to- 
 morrow. I'll kill him. Yes, yes ! I'll kill him yet." 
 
 Oscar covered his ears with his hands, and clutched 
 his elbows between his knees. 
 
 " What ? " the man behind him shrieked. " I did
 
 THE MAN INSIDE. 359 
 
 not kill his father either ? He has got well and come 
 after me ? " 
 
 Then he shrieked again, and began to struggle, and 
 Oscar turned and held him on the seat, to prevent his 
 falling or injuring himself, and talked to him to quiet 
 him. The slender thread had broken, but he found, 
 to his astonishment, that after all he had a will that 
 was stronger without its help. He had not laid a 
 finger on the man, except to care for him, when the 
 stage stopped at the shanty tavern of another mining 
 settlement, and the driver opened the door. 
 
 The innkeeper was much more accustomed than 
 Oscar to the treatment of gun-shot wounds. The man 
 was delirious now, but he was soon in bed, in spite of 
 his struggles, and after a hot drink, which the inn- 
 keeper prepared, he sank into a heavy, restless sleep. 
 
 Oscar learned that the same stage would pass in 
 two hours, on its return to Leadville, and while he 
 watched at the bedside he wrote to Charlie, briefly 
 recounting the circumstances, and asking him to come 
 at once with 
 
 There his hand rebelled. Every force of nature in 
 him urged him to drop the pen. Was this doing the 
 duty for which he had come all the way from Mani- 
 toba ? Was this taking advantage of the opportunities 
 which Providence had placed within his reach ? 
 
 He hesitated for a moment. lie looked steadily 
 into the sleeper's face. He saw the hand, \\ith a
 
 360 THE MAN INSIDE. 
 
 missing finger, twitching and clutching, as it lay, 
 uneasy, on the spread. 
 
 " If I know what my duty is, I can do it," he mut- 
 tered, and a moment later he turned to the paper, 
 and in a firm hand finished the sentence " with a 
 doctor." 
 
 He did not realize it then, perhaps he never will, 
 but it is true, nevertheless, that if his entire life should 
 be as crowded with acts of bravery as his short trip 
 from Manitoba to Leadville, when they are all summed 
 up in one, they will not equal the real courage required 
 for that one act, by the bedside of the wounded man. 
 
 Oscar was astonished to find how easy it was for 
 him after that to bathe the wound with arnica and 
 witch-hazel, steeped over the tavern fire ; to administer 
 the golden-rod tea and the sleeping-mixture, whenever 
 the man began to moan, and to do all that he would 
 for any sufferer, for the man he found inside the coach. 
 
 It was as if he had been laboriously climbing a steep 
 hill, where every step was harder than the one before, 
 to find that the last, almost despairing struggle had 
 suddenly brought him to the summit, and that from 
 that instant the path was leading down the hill again, 
 making each step easier than the last. He even found 
 himself anxiously counting the time, eagerly listening 
 for the sound of horses' feet, that should announce the 
 arrival of Charlie and the doctor.
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 "I AM AFRAID TO DIE." 
 
 BEFORE ten o'clock Charlie came with the doctor. 
 He was a rough and hardened frontiersman, like all 
 the rest, dabbling as much in mines as in medicine ; 
 but as skillful and experienced in bullet wounds as a 
 surgeon in an army hospital. 
 
 They found Oscar looking worn and haggard after 
 the excitement of the night, the long watch and the 
 lierce battle with himself, but hard at work. 
 
 While the doctor was probing the wound and mak- 
 ing his examination, Oscar and Charlie stood at the 
 little window, looking down the wild mining gulch. 
 
 " How in the world could you do this for that fiend ?" 
 Charlie asked abruptly. 
 
 " I don't know," Oscar said, shaking his head. 
 " Somehow I can't seem to help it. I don't believe 
 he'll escape, but I think that after all I would rather 
 have him go, than think always that I did it when he 
 couldn't protect himself." 
 
 301
 
 362 " I AM AFRAID TO DIE." 
 
 " Maybe you're right, Oscar," Charlie replied. 
 " At any rate, if that's the way you feel, I'd certainly 
 act it out. But if it were my case, I would lift that 
 man's scalp and wear it for a charm, like an Indian." 
 
 " Is this fellow anything in particular to either of 
 you?" the doctor asked, coming to the window. 
 
 " We. never set eyes on him before," Charlie an- 
 swered quickly. 
 
 " I never saw him till last night," Oscar replied 
 more slowly. 
 
 " Well, he's pretty well fixed for dust, I'm told, 
 but there's no use sending to Leadville to hunt up 
 friends, for he hasn't got any there," the doctor con- 
 tinued. " I don't know whether he's got folks some- 
 where else or not ; but whatever he wants to do with 
 his dust, he's got to do it pretty sudden. He'll start 
 off without it before sunup to-morrow. There's noth- 
 ing I can do for him. The youngster's done all there's 
 any use in. 'Twon't stretch him out more'n a few 
 hours, but if you think it's worth your while to keep 
 on with what you're doing, it'll ease him along a little. 
 He's coming to himself, I see, and it's likely he'll bo 
 tolerably clear from now on till he dies. I must be 
 goin' now, for I've got to get back. Is there anything 
 I can do for you in Leadville?" 
 
 " Look a-here, doctor," Charlie said in a low tone. 
 " It's true that neither of us ever saw that man till 
 this trip, but we know a pile about him that's not to
 
 "I AM AFRAID TO DIE." 363 
 
 his praise. In fact, that's what brought us here from 
 Manitoba. We just got in last night, and the first 
 thing the youngster saw him taking that stage, and 
 was afraid he was going to skip, and followed to see 
 which trail he took. That's how he happened to be 
 on hand. Now if he's going to die, and he's the coward 
 I think he is, the chances are that he'll have a powerful 
 weight o' something besides dust to unload ; and it 
 strikes me that it'll be for the best good of all con- 
 cerned to have the unloading done in proper shape. If 
 you don't mind sending down the best lawyer in Lead- 
 ville, quick as he can get here, I think it'll be a wise 
 thing. Here's a hundred-dollar bill for our part, in 
 case it proves a fool's errand." 
 
 " It strikes me that's a pretty clean idea, that'll pan 
 out well," the doctor replied, putting the bill in his 
 pocket. " I'll have the right man here as soon as 
 horses can cover the ground ; but he won't die before 
 night," and with that he went out. 
 
 Very slowly the wounded man came back to con- 
 sciousness, and even Charlie found himself working 
 as hard as Oscar; but with him, as he took every 
 opportunity to explain to Oscar, it was only a savage 
 determination that the man should not die till after 
 the lawyer came. 
 
 " You saved my life last night, and I shall pay you 
 \\ 11 for it," the man muttered, as Oscar bent over 
 him, bathing the wound. " I feel better now, only a
 
 364 " I AM AFRAID TO DIE." 
 
 little weak. I shall be all right in the morning. You 
 don't think there's any clanger of my dying, do you?" 
 And an hour later, after drinking something which 
 the innkeeper had prepared for him, he whispered : 
 " I feel better. O, yes ! I certainly feel better. I 
 am not going to die." 
 
 Oscar and Charlie decided that it would be better 
 to tell the lawyer all they knew before he saw the 
 wounded man, that he might understand better what 
 they expected. 
 
 The man was sleeping-, and they stood together at 
 the window as some one drove up from Leadville. 
 It was doubtless the lawyer, and Charlie quickly left 
 the room to meet him ; while Oscar, still standing by 
 the window, also recognized in him the man he saw 
 at the corner of the alley the night before, offering a 
 million and a half for the mining claim. Doctors or 
 lawyers, boot-blacks or newsboys, living in Leadville, 
 were, almost of necessity, interested in mining. It 
 was so much in the atmosphere that they could not 
 help it. 
 
 Charlie had only been gone a moment when the 
 man awoke. It was evident that his strength was 
 failing. He pointed to a glass of water standing on 
 the table, and drank it ravenously ; then looking up, 
 he whispered : 
 
 " I have seen you before. Do you live in Lead- 
 ville?"
 
 " I AM AFRAID TO DIE." 365 
 
 Oscar shook his head. 
 
 "In Dead wood?" the man asked. 
 
 Again Oscar shook his head. 
 
 4i I have surely seen you somewhere," the man said 
 feebly, closing his eyes as if trying to think. 
 
 Sunburned, weather-beaten, developed and hardened 
 by trials, dangers, exposure and sharp experiences with 
 the stern realities of life, it was a very different face 
 from the schoolboy's he had seen, and yet it was the 
 same. No wonder the dying man remembered it, and 
 yet could not remember. 
 
 He opened his eyes again and whispered : 
 
 "Don't you remember me? Where is it I have 
 seen you?" 
 
 More in pity than with any thought of revenge, 
 Oscar replied : 
 
 " You may have seen me, but I never saw you until 
 last night." 
 
 " Where have I seen you ? Your face haunts me," 
 the man said, with a shudder. "Tell me tell me 
 where have I seen you?" 
 
 Oscar thrust his hands deep into his pockets, lest 
 they should move before he could stop them, as he 
 replied : 
 
 " You saw me in a yacht, on the shores of Manitoba 
 Lake." 
 
 "Who are you who are you?" the wounded 
 man gasped, starting on the bed.
 
 366 
 
 I AM AFKAID TO DIE. 
 
 " I AM OSCAR PETERSON.' ' 
 
 *' I am Oscar Peterson : Ranchman and Ranger," 
 Oscar said ; for that little sign had become so firmly 
 imbedded in every thought, as a vital part of himself, 
 that in the intense excitement of the moment the words 
 fell from his lips unconsciously, as though he was re- 
 peating only his name.
 
 " I AM AFRAID TO DIE." 367 
 
 For a moment there was the silence of death in the 
 little room. The wounded man shut his eyes, and a 
 great shudder shook the very bed upon which he was 
 lying. Oscar was afraid he was dying, and was upon 
 the point of going for Charlie, when he opened his eyes 
 again, and tried to call for help. But his voice was 
 so weak that it could not have been heard even beyond 
 the thin board partitions of the miner's shanty tavern. 
 
 Oscar stepped back a little, and in a low voice 
 replied : 
 
 "You need not be afraid of me. I have had 
 chances enough to kill you, and I wanted to a great 
 deal more than I do now. You killed my father! 
 You sneaking coward ! You killed him because he 
 trusted you, and gave you a chance to make yourself 
 rich by it. But I have not hurt you. No ! and I am 
 not going to now. I have done all I can to save your 
 life. I have tried, but it's no use. The doctor says 
 that no power can keep you alive until sunrise 
 to-morrow." 
 
 "I die? I will not die! I can't die," the man 
 shrieked, pushing himself up till he leaned upon his 
 elbow, with his back against the wall, and shook his 
 fist at Oscar. " You take that back. It is a lie ! It 
 is you who are trying to kill me, but I will not die 
 to-night. You wouldn't kill a helpless man, would 
 you?" 
 
 Then a sudden change came over him, and opening
 
 368 "I AM AFRAID TO DIE." 
 
 his clinched hand, he stretched it toward Oscar, and 
 his voice trembled and almost failed as he pleaded : 
 
 " No, no, no ! There must be something more that 
 you can do. Oh ! try again. Try just once more to 
 save me, for I do not want to die. No, 110 ! I cannot 
 die." 
 
 At that moment Charlie entered with the lawyer. 
 
 " Halloo, Bill ! " the latter said, in a cold, careless 
 way, seating himself by the table, with paper, pen and 
 ink. " Doc Hutch was round this noon ; said you'd 
 got yer come-upances at last, and couldn't live the 
 night out, and I'd best git round ter see if yer wanted 
 to put anything on paper 'bout by-gones, 'fore yer 
 went across ter whar they say thar ain't no keepin' 
 things secret, Bill. Then anything ye've got ter say 
 about the stuff yer leavin' behind yer, I'm here to 
 write it down. Don't forget, Bill, that this is the 
 last shovelful ye'll h'ist out o' diggin's on this side, 
 an' if ye want yer dirt to pan out anything, when it's 
 washed and assayed over there, you've got ter have 
 some of the real stuff in it, even if it goes in with the 
 very last shovelful. Go on, now, Bill ; I'm ready. 
 You do the talkiu' an' I'll write it down. Then you 
 can sign it, and they'll know, over there, what it 
 amounts to. Go on ! " 
 
 The dying man was thoroughly sobered by this 
 rough, plain statement. He was silent for a time, 
 still leuiing against the wall ; then, speaking slowly,
 
 " I AM AFRAID TO DIE." 369 
 
 in a low, weak voice, and pointing a trembling hand 
 toward Oscar, he said : 
 
 "He is the one who owns that claim next to yours. 
 It belonged to his father, and I shot him. I shot him 
 to get that mine. I made out the papers, and signed 
 his name myself. Write it down, and I'll sign it." 
 
 The lawyer wrote, and the dying man watched him 
 in silence till the last word was transcribed in legal 
 
 O 
 
 form. Then he made a struggle, as though he felt life 
 ebbing and would drag it back till this, at least, was 
 accomplished, and steadying himself continued : 
 
 " There's more to write. That farm I told you of 
 the one I offered you in Manitoba that was his 
 father's. I had an old deed of it, which he used to 
 borrow money when he bought the mine. I made a 
 new one. I copied all the names. Then I made a bill 
 of sale and signed it. They are recorded in Winnipeg. 
 Every name on them but the Winnipeg lawyer's is a 
 forgery. I fooled him. Yes, I did it; and it's all 
 fraud all fraud. Write it down and I'll sign it. 
 Write it down." 
 
 Again there was a moment's pause, while the pen 
 flew over the paper; but this time the man was in' 
 greater haste. 
 
 " Write faster ! " he gasped ; " and write that my 
 own claims you know them and everything else 
 I hand over to him. Write that I'm sorry ; write it 
 down, and I'll sign it. I haven't any relatives, and
 
 370 "I AM AFRAID TO DIE." 
 
 Mr. Peterson was about the only friend I ever had. 
 I killed him. Write it down. Now, quick ! Let me 
 sign it." 
 
 The moment the lawyer passed him the pen, he 
 clutched it, and leaned over the table. 
 
 " What ? " he muttered. " You want my real name, 
 too the old name ? " 
 
 A sob shook the dying man as he wrote the old 
 name, and even when it was finished, and the pen had 
 fallen from his hand, he leaned heavily upon the edge 
 of the bed, still staring at it. 
 
 " I haven't seen that name," he said, " since the last 
 time my mother wrote to me before she died ; more'u 
 twenty years ago." 
 
 He fell back on the pillow, and lifting his right 
 hand took the legal oath. 
 
 Charlie signed the paper as one witness, and he, 
 too, hesitated for a moment, and tried hard to hide two 
 glistening tears as he wrote " the old name " under the 
 one by which he was known on the plains. His occu- 
 pation he indicated by the simple word " Cowboy." 
 
 When it came to Oscar to sign the paper, he had 
 but one name to write ; and as for his occupation, it 
 was easily indicated. He copied the old sign; and 
 he, too, realized a strange sensation, but it came from 
 the future to him, not from the past, as he saw the 
 first real and legal imprint of the dream of his life : 
 
 " Oscar Peterson : Ranchman and Ranger."
 
 " I AM AFKA1D TO DIE." 371 
 
 The wounded man lay with his eyes shut, breathing 
 heavily. The lawyer signed and sealed the paper, and 
 handed it to Oscar with his card, saying : 
 
 " If you will call at my office in Leadville, I will 
 see that this is put through all right, and set you on 
 the track of your property. I should like to see you 
 before you take any steps in the matter." 
 
 Then turning to the bed he took the hand that had 
 lost a finger, lying perfectly still, now, on the cover, 
 and in a gentler tone than he had spoken, said : 
 
 " Good-by, Bill! I guess you've done a straight 
 thing for once, any way, before handing in your checks. 
 The folks this side'll give ye credit for it, 'tenerate, 
 and I reckon ye'll find it's better than havin' nuthin' 
 at all to stand on, at the Judgment Day." 
 
 Oscar and Charlie were left alone again with the 
 poor dying wretch, and they did their very best to 
 relieve his last moments. There was no longer any 
 thought of vengeance or revenge. Such feelings were 
 all gone. It was not that he had returned the prop- 
 erty ; surely not that he had left more. It is doubt- 
 ful if a thought of money entered the minds of either 
 of them as they worked. In Oscar's mind, at least, 
 only one thought kept on and on, always repeating 
 that sentence ' Write that I'm sorry ; ' and he had 
 nothing but pity for the poor frightened coward who 
 was struggling and trembling upon the shelving brink 
 of an open grave. But even if bitter feelings had
 
 372 "I AM AFRAID TO DIE." 
 
 remained ; even if he had felt, still, as he did while sit- 
 ting in the stage, he would have been satisfied more 
 than satisfied that he had waited. He would have 
 counted his revenge more perfect than if his hands had 
 followed their inclination, and, in reality, only put a 
 villain more quickly and easily out of agony. 
 
 That night they watched a scene more graphic than 
 all the preaching and teaching in the world ; while a 
 soul, steeped in twenty years of crime, clung to the 
 tottering walls of the wretched cabin it had polluted. 
 "Don't let me die. I can't die," the poor fellow 
 groaned. " Oh ! try something more ! Only save 
 me till morning ! Only one hour more ! " And when 
 his strength was gone all gone ; when his hands 
 were cold and his lips were white, and his glassy eyes 
 fixed on the rude rafters, his last, gasping, shuddering 
 words as life went out, were : 
 
 " I am afraid to die."
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 THE PAST AND THE FUTURE. 
 
 THE sun shone over Happy Hollow and down the 
 gulch beyond, when two mourners they were real 
 mourners followed the innkeeper's mule cart, bear- 
 ing a plain pine box that covered all that was left to 
 earth of the man who was afraid to die. 
 
 There were a dozen or more graves upon the hill- 
 side, about the one which had been dug that morning. 
 They were all alike ; with wooden head-pieces, and 
 nothing more. 
 
 Whatever respect they could show to senseless clay 
 was freely extended to the dead, and when that was 
 accomplished, they paid the innkeeper and returned 
 to Leadville. 
 
 The lawyer had studied carefully upon the case, as 
 there were many complications in the way of an 
 immediate settlement. 
 
 "It will be different," he said, "with the Mani- 
 toba estate. This acknowledgment of forgery will be 
 
 373
 
 374 THE PAST AND THE FUTURE. 
 
 sufficient. By the appointment of a guardian you will 
 be able to take possession there at once. This tangle 
 here will take more time and patience. I have this 
 proposition to make to you, which is in a line with an 
 offer I made to Bill, the night he was shot. The origi- 
 nal claim of yours is worth, to me, one million and a 
 half. You might make it pay you bigger if you work 
 it just right, but the chances are it wouldn't do half so 
 well by you. The other claims he spoke of are doubt- 
 ful. They may pan out as good as this one, but their 
 chances are better for nothing than they are for much, 
 and I don't want to risk too much on chances. I will 
 place two million dollars in Government bonds, in trust 
 for you, the interest to be yours as it falls due, the 
 bonds to be delivered when yon are twenty-one years 
 old, in exchange for a clean surrender of all these 
 claims in Leadville. There is no rush about it. 
 Think it over and sleep on it. Go out and take a 
 look at the claims with some one who knows what 
 diggings are, and come in to-morrow morning and let 
 me know." 
 
 Oscar did not look at the mines. He had no ambi- 
 tion to remain in Leadville, under any circumstances. 
 He simply went to Charlie and reported the lawyer's 
 proposition. 
 
 "Take it quick," Charlie exclaimed. 
 
 " That would be one way," Oscar replied, " but 
 there's another way that T would much rather do. I
 
 THE PAST AND THE FUTURE. 375 
 
 would like to turn these claims over to you. You un- 
 derstand mining, and can run them, and I have all 
 that I could possibly use or care for, in getting back 
 the estate. Won't you please take them, Charlie ? " 
 
 Charlie slowly leaned back in his chair, slowly lifted 
 his feet to the table, slowly stuffed his hands into 
 his pockets, never once taking his eyes from Oscar. 
 When he was safely balanced, he said : 
 
 " Do you mean take the claims and own them and 
 run them for myself ? " 
 
 " Of course I do ; and please do, Charlie. I don't 
 want them or the money." 
 
 Charlie stared in silence for a moment, then he 
 replied : 
 
 " I must say, Oscar Peterson, you are about as reck- 
 less and about as brave and about as generous as any 
 man I ever struck, in real life or a story book. If I 
 hadn't forgotten my Cicero I'd make you an oration ; 
 but whether it was in Greek or Latin, in good straight 
 English or only in imagination, my dear friend, it 
 would wind up just the same. It would be as full of 
 admiration and appreciation and of thanks as it was of 
 words, Oscar, but it would have to wind up with * ex- 
 cuse me, please.' For the fact is I don't want it. I 
 shouldn't know what to do with it if I had it, and be- 
 sides, I have every prospect of striking another job, 
 within a day or two, that is much more to my taste, 
 though there may not so much dust wash out of it."
 
 376 THE PAST AND THE FUTURE. 
 
 "Another job! Where?" Oscar asked, and his 
 face fell. 
 
 " Well, it's a friend of mine," Charlie replied, 
 slowly. "He owns a big ranch and range. He's a 
 good fellow, and has struck it rich, lately. I flatter 
 myself he'll be good enough to give me the care of 
 .that ranch if I ask him, and I'd rather have it than 
 forty mines." 
 
 " Where is it, Charlie ? " Oscar asked, and his lip 
 quivered in spite of him. 
 
 " Why, it's up alongside of Manitoba Lake," Charlie 
 said. " Do you think I can get a job ? " 
 
 Oscar did not reply, for he had very nearly upset 
 Charlie's chair, in the vigor with which he grabbed his 
 hand. A moment later Charlie continued : " I knew 
 how it would all turn out. Didn't I tell you so at the 
 ranch-house, when you wanted me to pack up all my 
 outfit and have it sent South ? And now if you will 
 excuse me from stopping in Leadville, I'm in a fu- 
 rious hurry to get back to the ranch, for if those cattle 
 are handled right, in the fall round up, there'll be 
 a pile of good money to show for it." 
 
 So they went back to Manitoba together. This 
 time they went all the way by rail, with two of the 
 horses and Panza alone in a large padded car, char- 
 tered for their sole use. They stopped at Winnipeg 
 to adjust the title to the estate, which was easily ac- 
 complished, and when that matter was settled, and the
 
 THE PAST AND THE FUTURE. 377 
 
 lawyer who did the work had been paid, Charlie was 
 turning to leave, still anxious to be on the way ; but 
 Oscar caught him by the arm, exclaiming : 
 
 " Hold on one minute, Charlie. There's one more 
 thing to do. I haven't spoken of it, because I knew 
 you would try to crawl out, in some way, but it can't 
 be done. I never should have seen an acre of that 
 estate again if it hadn't been for you, and you have 
 confessed that you want to stay there. Now, you are 
 going into partnership with me, and we are going to 
 start in with the whole estate, as stock in trade, share 
 and share alike. There's 110 getting out of it. The 
 papers are all made out, like the mine matter, as well 
 as they can be till I am twenty-one, and you have got 
 to sign them, and sign them quickly, without a word. 
 I tell you straight, I will not go back to Manitoba 
 Lake, until you do." 
 
 " That's biz. Load up a pen and I'll blaze away,'' 
 Charlie replied, in that happy abandon with which he 
 surrendered, either to the highwaymen or to Oscar, when 
 he found they had " the drop " on him, as gracefully 
 and cheerfully as though it were something he had 
 been anticipating and arranging for all the time. 
 
 The last day they made again on horseback, and it 
 was as full of happiness and hope as the first day had 
 been full of sadness and anxiety. Oscar had succeeded 
 in forcing back the tears as he looked for the last time 
 upon the disappearing butte ; but he did not even try
 
 378 THE PAST AND THE FUTURE. 
 
 to restrain them as he saw the familiar outline rise 
 slowly out of the clear horizon in front of them, and 
 marked the sharp lines of the little speck of black 
 upon its summit, which meant that he was almost 
 home. 
 
 During the day they planned out their future. 
 Charlie was to take the ranch and range under his 
 special care. Oscar was to have the stock farm and 
 wheat fields, and if they found that the keeper who 
 had been in charge during their absence, was the man 
 they thought him, and would accept the position, he 
 was to have the mines under his direction, upon a 
 salary or commission. 
 
 There was but one cloud which darkened the joy of 
 their return, and even that had its silver lining. 
 
 Their very first inquiries were concerning their 
 mysterious Indian. Oscar could scarcely believe his 
 senses when the keeper assured them that it was none 
 other than Wenononee, the little Indian girl, who had 
 followed them ; but when they heard the story of the 
 way she stole Sancho from the stable, and then came 
 back and told the keeper, saying that they would 
 starve and freeze and die before they would let the 
 young master suffer such a sacrifice to save them, and 
 how she had touched his heart and made him ashamed 
 of 'the part he had played, till he was only too glad to 
 help her carry out the rest of her plan, Charlie turned 
 to Oscar, saying :
 
 THE PAST AND THE FUTURE. 370 
 
 " Didn't I have the right of it when I stuck to it 
 that you'd been doing something for an Indian ? " 
 
 The cloud came when they learned the rest : that 
 Wenononee had walked all the way back, safely return- 
 ing the rifle, the belt, and the pistol, but that exposure 
 and hardship had so thoroughly broken her down that 
 she was rapidly following her mother, who died while 
 she was away. 
 
 Oscar felt as though he could willingly have given 
 his life to save hers, and, though that was impossible, 
 money and kindness were lavished upon her till her 
 last months of life were made so peaceful and happy 
 that she said : 
 
 " Me heap too glad for Indian girl. When Great 
 Spirit speak and Weno go, she cannot know the dif- 
 ference. This Heaven. That Heaven. If here, if 
 there, all Heaven." 
 
 That was the silver lining. 
 
 Oscar and Charlie were standing, one day, by 
 Weno's arm-chair, just outside the cabin door. They 
 had been looking backward, while Weno recounted a 
 part of her journey, and told them how they had missed 
 a warning she had put up ; that they should not stop 
 at the squatter's sod house. 
 
 " I tell you what it is, Charlie," Oscar said, " I 
 learned more about farming and ranching and ranging, 
 about mining and hunting and holding my own, on 
 that trip, than I might in a lifetime, without it ; but
 
 380 THE PAST AND THE FUTUKE. 
 
 the best and biggest lesson of all is what I've learned 
 about people. No matter what color of skin or kind 
 of clothes- makes one differ from another, how the 
 heart does show through ; and what a world of differ- 
 ence it makes with the evening, whether the sun is set- 
 ting in clouds or in a clear sky. I wish that every- 
 body in this world who thinks enough of gold to wrong 
 another to obtain it, could see the sun go down in such 
 a storm as we saw it in the gulch by Happy Hollow, 
 and then come here and sit for an hour in the beautiful 
 light of Wenononee's sunset."
 
 000 036 527