CHAPTER X.THE RESCUER REACHES THE GOAL.
One afternoon, a week after Lucille’s coming to the Indian village as a captive, and while Lucille and the chief, Death Face, who had proved to be half white, were seated upon the little piazza looking at the sunset, the young man on the chair, the maiden in the hammock, there suddenly dashed around the corner of the cabin a tall form, brandishing a revolver in each hand. He had his revolver leveled full at the young man, as he called out sternly:
“Up with your hands, renegade, or you die!”
“Buffalo Bill!” cried Lucille, in suppressed tones, as though realizing, even in her surprise, the danger of speaking that name there. Then she quickly added:
“For God’s sake do not kill him, for he is my friend.”
Death Face sprang to his feet, yet made no move to draw a weapon, but stood gazing defiantly into the face of the scout, who, at the words of Lucille, lowered his weapons and said quickly:
“Let me step into the cabin, for I may be seen here.”
Quickly Lucille seized his hand and fairly dragged him into the cabin, while she said reproachfully:
“Oh, why did you come here, for your life will be the forfeit?”
“I came for you, Miss Lucille, but I did not expect to find you in a white man’s cabin, free and with company.”
“I will explain all later, but now you must go into hiding, for if you were discovered——”
“Not a redskin has seen me, I assure you. I have been four days coming from the river to this cabin, which I saw from the ridge above, as I did you also, and this young man, who I thought must be some renegade.
“I crept up behind the cabin, having seen you seated on the piazza, and, dashing around, covered him; but you say he is your friend.”
“You are safe here, Buffalo Bill, for I cannot but call you so, and you shall know the whole story. So sit down, for it is a long one, and there are secrets in it which you must not breathe to any one.”
“You have my pledge not to betray anything, Miss Lucille,” said Buffalo Bill, and then he heard the story of her father’s strange life, her uncle’s, and her own.
The scout listened with an interest that was intense, and when he had heard all, said in a low tone:
“And I have a story to tell, too, Miss Lucille, and it is that you need no longer dread your wicked uncle, the outlaw. I crossed the river at the spot where you did, and that night camped not far away. The next morning the outlaw rode full upon me: we saw each other at the same time, but I was a little thequickest, and my bullet pierced his brain. I had crossed the river upon a small raft the soldiers had made for me, and so I staked his horse out, when I was sure that he was alone, and, putting the body on the raft, poled back to the other shore. There I found that your father, who was to have crossed at the ford, and go with me to rescue you, had returned, having been fired on by the Indian sentinel and slightly wounded.”
“You mean it—slightly wounded?” cried Lucille.
“I tell the truth, for Surgeon Denmead was in camp and extracted the bullet. I had a talk with your father and he was doing well, but did not wish me to risk coming. How glad I now am that I did, for I have found you, though I have not rescued you.”
“And my outlaw uncle?”
“Lieutenant Worth had his soldiers bury him, for the lieutenant is waiting on the river for your return. Just as I was leaving another force came up which had taken your trail from Monument Hill and followed it to the river, so both are there.
“I recrossed the river then on the raft, waited until night, and, mounting the horse of the outlaw, made a flank movement to reach the camp, determined to play Captain Eagle, if I met a redskin, for we were not unlike in size and face, and I speak the Indian tongue fairly well, while the horse and the coat and hat I appropriated would help me out, I knew.
“I did not care to risk it by day, so flew by night only, reached the ridge, reconnoitered, and here I am, Miss Lucille; and my advice is that we get out of this at once.”
Lucille turned to Death Face, who said:
“Yes, we will go. I will bring ponies, too, and we will go up the ridge trail, where Buffalo Bill’s horse is, and then, together, we will go down to the river. If we meet any bands, Death Face, the chief, passes unquestioned.”
So it was decided, and, while the young man went to make his arrangements for leaving the Indian camp forever, Lucille and Yellow Bird prepared for their escape, Buffalo Bill keeping in hiding.
Under the guidance of the young chief, the trail to the river was made in perfect safety, Buffalo Bill being taken for the outlaw, and Lucille and Yellow Bird for braves by the bands of Indians they passed.
No one questioned Death Face, and on he rode with his escaping party, Lucille and Yellow Bird having their faces painted, and in their leggings, riding in masculine fashion, while the pack horses they had along were well loaded with things taken from the Manly cabin and the young chief’s tepee.
Reaching the river before dawn, the Indians left them, and Lucille added to her costume her riding habit and felt better able to face the soldiers on the other side.
They crossed on the raft, which made several trips, the horses swimming over; then, mounting, they rode on to the soldiers’ camp.
Such a welcome as greeted them, when Buffalo Bill and the sergeant’s daughter were recognized, cannot be described, for the soldiers seemed to have gone wild.
In the week that had passed since he was wounded the sergeant had much improved.
The meeting between father and daughter was most affecting, while tears came into the brave man’s eyes as he grasped Buffalo Bill’s hand and said:
“I owe all this to you, Cody, and Lucille tells me she has told you all.”
Fearful of risking his daughter so near the redskins, the sergeant said he was able to travel. The march was, therefore, begun after the noon meal, the trail taken being the same one that Lucille had traveled with the outlaw.
The command was three days getting back to the fort, but when they came in sight, and it was seen that Lucille had been rescued, again there was a wild scene of rejoicing.
Then, too, the sergeant had more joy added to his cup of bliss, for the last coach through had brought him his commission, “for special and gallant services,” as a first lieutenant in the army of the United States.