"Do not be alarmed at rumors that Carey is dead."He ventured into the hostiles' lines, but you know his phenomenal luck in getting out of close places, and it will not desert him now."I will wire you the moment we get news of him, so keep up your courage. "Yours,Frank Powell."
"Do not be alarmed at rumors that Carey is dead.
"He ventured into the hostiles' lines, but you know his phenomenal luck in getting out of close places, and it will not desert him now.
"I will wire you the moment we get news of him, so keep up your courage. "Yours,Frank Powell."
"Ah! she has fainted," and Violet Earl sprang to the side of EmmaFoshay, as, with a moan, she sank from her chair to the floor.
"And she has betrayed her secret, poor child," said Ella Dewhurst, with deepest sympathy.
"Yes, she loves the man that I love, the man that I am to marry," was Violet Earl's low response, and her words and voice were deeply sympathetic.
"How brave you are, Violet, for with such news as you have just heard I would break utterly down," Ella Dewhurst remarked, as she bathed Emma's face with cologne water.
"Ella, you heard what Dr. Frank Powell said about Lieutenant Carey's luck? Well, I believe in it most thoroughly," was the firm response of the brave girl, so well suited to be a soldier's wife.
HERBERT BERNARD'S MISTAKE.
The military band around the hostiles was drawing closer and closer.
General Miles, with his headquarters at Pine Ridge Agency, was directing operations in an able manner, and was master of the situation, though he fretted at having orders from Washington regarding his conduct of the campaign against the redskins.
The other officers commanding columns were holding their men well in hand, and were ready to strike a blow when the time came to do so.
In their retreat in the Bad Lands, the hostiles watched the situation through their scouts and emissaries visiting the "Friendlies," as the Indians who had not openly declared war were called, endeavoring to lead them to follow in their footsteps, and strike at the pale-faces a blow to be long remembered.
The chiefs, feeling their influence on the wane, were urging on the Ghost Dance, and doing all in their power to ferment further trouble.
One of the commands of soldiers had moved up near to the Bernard ranch, and the officers were surprised to know that Settler Bernard still remained at his home against all urging to depart for safer scenes, and also to discover that his daughter had been captured by the hostiles, and carried to their camp.
The fact of Jennie's capture the Bernards would have kept secret had it been in their power, but it had become known, as well as was the fact that Lieutenant Kit Carey had gone to attempt her rescue, and had not since been seen.
His scouts were still in position, and reported regularly everything of importance, but their white captain had not been seen since the night of his going in disguise into the retreat of the hostiles.
The fact that he had gone, disguised as a Sioux medicine man, the Cheyenne scouts had kept from every one excepting the commanding general, well knowing that if a whisper of it got out, and was carried to the retreat, if not already a prisoner or slain, the Sioux chiefs would soon find out the intruder.
When Herbert Bernard had seen the Sioux capture Jennie he had watched their departure with vindictive joy, for he felt keenly that the young girl had said that she despised him.
That there was some motive deeper than his love for her, that would cause him to wish to make her an unloving wife, there seemed no doubt; but whatever that motive he kept it to himself.
Returning home after feeling assured that Jennie was safe beyond all escape from him, for he seemed to feel the most perfect confidence in her Indian guards, he was met by his mother, who asked, anxiously:
"Herbert, my son, have you seen Jennie?"
"She went for a ride, mother."
"It was a long one, then, for she carried a roll of blankets with her, and also took the large leather saddle bags filled with her things."
"Is this so, mother?"
"It is."
"Then she intended to escape from us?"
"Without a doubt, and I regret that she was forced to feel that she should have to go from us. But then, my son, you and your father seemed to wish to have her know that she was not my child, and must become your wife, and, as usual, I was weak enough to yield. Now the poor child has run away, and we will never see her more," and Mrs. Bernard began to cry.
Herbert hated a scene and tears, so quickly took his departure, and went in search of his father.
"Father, mother says that Jennie has run away."
"I knew it! I felt it! But, quick! go in chase of her," cried Vance Bernard, strangely excited.
"No need of it, for she has been captured."
"Good! that is splendid! But where is she?"
"Well, she went away prepared to desert us forever, for she carried what things she could with her and rode her best horse."
"And where is she?"
"But she ran upon the band of Sioux under Red Hatchet, and was captured by them."
"What! did Red Hatchet dare to lay hands upon the child?"
"Easy, father, and hear what I have to say. You see the Red Hatchet was obeying my orders."
"Your orders?"
"Yes, for I knew that I could not watch her, and I got Red Hatchet to capture her and carry her off."
"Herbert, you are a fool."
"Not such a fool as you think, father."
"Why have you done what you have?"
"Well, she does not know me in the affair, and so I shall arrange to rescue her, see?"
"No, I don't see, nor will you."
"Yes, I shall rescue her, and then will win her consent to become my wife, for it shall be so planned that she will have to marry me or the Sioux chief."
"She will take him in preference."
"You are complimentary to your son."
"Well, I feel that you have done wrong, Herbert, for the Red Hatchet loves the girl far more than you do."
"Red Hatchet loves her?"
"Yes, and I'll tell you now what I never did before, that he once saved her from some Indians who had captured her. He has always loved her since, and has begged me to give her to him, but I would not tell you, as I feared trouble between you and the chief. Only a few days ago he threatened if she did not marry him he would destroy the settlements in revenge, and now you have placed her in his hands. Do you not see that you are a fool, Herbert Bernard?" and the settler spoke almost savagely.
"I certainly do; but I shall rescue her from him, see if I do not," was the determined rejoinder.
TO MAKE THE VENTURE.
The more that Herbert Bernard thought over the matter the more he felt that his father was right, that he had, indeed, made a fool of himself.
That Red Hatchet was always a welcome visitor at the ranch he had known, as well as that he seemed to be always most friendly toward Jennie; but that the Sioux chief had ever hoped to win her for his wife had never crossed the mind of the young settler.
He had never been let into the secret of Jennie's rescue by the young chief, and more, that he was in love with her.
That he had now intrusted her to the care of the Sioux nearly broke his heart.
"Oh, if you would only kick me for a fool, father," he groaned.
"No need of it, for you learn a bitter lesson in feeling what you have done. I should have thought that you would have known better than to trust her in such hands," said the elder Bernard, who showed the deepest chagrin over the affair.
"The Sioux have always been so friendly, father."
"Oh, yes, and will be, I hope."
"And you have held such power over them."
"In time of peace, yes, but they are at war now, and the Indian is a study which no man has ever learned."
"You know, then."
"Yes, to-day; but what will they be to-morrow?"
"Well, I thought I was preventing her escape."
"You have most effectually done so; but did you have the talk with her I suggested?"
"I did."
"Well?"
"She despised me, she said, and you, too."
"And your mother talked with her, she told me."
"Yes, and with the same result."
"She would not listen to becoming your wife?"
"She would not."
"Herbert?"
"Yes, father."
"Do you know that this plan must not fall through?"
"How do you mean?"
"She must become your wife."
"I am willing."
"I have plotted and planned for years, and I say it shall be as I wish."
"I said I was willing, unless she has become the wife of that Chief Red Hatchet."
"If she has, it has been to escape you."
"Well?"
"Well, she shall not escape you."
"Do you mean——"
"I mean that there is but one way out of all this, and that is that Jennie Woodbridge shall be your wife, under all circumstances. You have entrusted her to the care of Red Hatchet, and now you must go and get her."
"Suppose he refuses to give her up?"
"Then return for me."
"For you, father?"
"Yes."
"You will get the aid of the army to rescue her?"
"I will do nothing of the kind, for I wish no dealings with the army; I hate military men, and would be glad if I never saw a soldier again," and the man spoke with a vehemence that was vicious.
"Well, how would you rescue her, may I ask?"
"That is my affair; but you go and make the effort."
"I will."
"Mind you, do nothing rash, and cause no bloodshed. Simply go and claim your own; but do it in such a way that the girl will think you have risked your life to save her. It will have a good effect with her, and, after all, you may win. If you can win her in that way, and by kindness, so much the better, for you may need to ask a favor of her some day."
"Then I am to go to the hostile camp?"
"Yes."
"I am to go as I am?"
"No, for you must not be seen to go there."
"By whom?"
"That argus-eyed officer, Carey, for he is watching the trails like a hawk."
"I know that."
"If he sees you go there, as a white man, it may cause trouble, innocent as your motive may be."
"Yes, I can understand that, father; but how am I to go?"
"I will rig you up for the work, and you will have no difficulty in getting into the line of the hostiles."
"And then?"
"You are to see the Red Hatchet and claim your sister, as he supposes her to be."
"Yes."
"But you are to arrange with him, if he is willing to give her up, so that it appears as though you rescued her from him."
"I understand."
"If he refuses to give her up——"
"Yes, father."
"Then return, and I will go."
"And you expect to accomplish what I fail to do?"
"If you fail, then I will get the girl, never fear."
"You speak confidently."
"I speak from a full knowledge of what my power is, boy. Now, come to me to-night, and I will prepare you for your journey, and before dawn you must enter the lines of the hostiles."
"I understand fully," was the response of the young settler.
That night what appeared to be an Indian chief rode away from the ranch of Settler Bernard, and he took the trail to the Bad Lands.
He went along at a canter, as though anxious to reach his destination in the shortest possible time, and once well away from the ranch, deserted the trails, and rode across country.
Before dawn the plateaus of the Bad Lands arose before him, and he seemed to know well his way, for he did not hesitate, but held straight on into the country of the hostiles, where it was certain death for a pale-face to go; the horseman was not an Indian, but Herbert Bernard, who had boldly made his venture to rescue Jennie from the Sioux chief, in whose keeping he had made the sad mistake of intrusting her.
THE SIOUX CAPTIVE.
When Jennie Woodbridge, who was flying along by the side of Red Hatchet, her Sioux captor, saw the arrangements made to ambush Kit Carey and his small band in pursuit of the hostiles, her heart sank within her with dread.
She felt more for the officer just then than she did for herself, and so asked the Sioux chief if his gratitude toward the white captain, for releasing him as he had done, would not cause him to spare the man who had treated him well.
But Red Hatchet had no mercy in his composition, and, in spite of "fairy tales" to the contrary of the Indian, from the "Last of the Mohicans" to the Apaches, had very little gratitude in his make-up.
So on sped the fair captive with her two guards, while Red Hatchet remained in the ravine to wipe out his pursuers in one well-directed volley.
That Kit Carey foiled him in this has been seen, and as the chief supposed that the officer and his men had gone into camp among the rocks to make a stand there, he determined upon capturing him at night.
He called his braves about him, twenty-eight in number, and told them that they were two to one against those among the rocks, and by slipping up, under cover of the darkness, and making a dash upon the little band, they would have it all their own way.
A few would fall, but the survivors would avenge them, and the harvest of scalps would more than compensate for the loss of half a dozen or so.
As no brave knew that he would be upon the death list, and all were hungry for scalps, they chimed in with their chief's humor, and prepared to take the position by stealth, and then hold it by force of arms, as soon as darkness permitted them to do so.
From his position, commanding that of Kit Carey's camp, Red Hatchet selected the points of attack, and told off his warriors for the various advances, so that all understood the exact situation.
Then they waited until nightfall, and made no move until an hour after darkness fell.
Then the order was given to leave their ponies in the ravine, and advance on foot in squads of four and five.
The chief led four men, and his was the most direct advance, the others going out on either side and flanking, one party coming up from the rear of the camp in the rocks.
As noiseless as serpents they crept on, for they felt that they had men to deal with fully alive to all their cunning devices.
At last the chief and his party were within a few feet of the camp, and yet no alarm had come, no arrow or shot.
Red Hatchet felt now that he had his foes in his power, and feeling that the other squads of braves must have reached position, he suddenly arose and bounded toward the rocks.
As he did so there came wild yells and shouts, andthen a terrific howl of rage, disappointment, and alarm commingled.
The enemy was not there, and the chief's squad had sprung upon a party of his own braves, and ere the mistake was known, for each had noiselessly gained the position, two warriors had been slain and a couple more wounded.
All the venom in his nature was aroused in Red Hatchet by this fatal mistake, through the silent retreat of his foes, and, of course, the white captain was set down as the cause of the death and wounding of the Sioux.
Of course, there was but one thing to be done under the circumstances, and that was to continue on to the camp of the hostiles with their dead and wounded, and await an opportunity to get even with their enemy.
Having started his braves on the retreat, Red Hatchet made his way to the rendezvous which he had appointed with the two guards of Jennie Woodbridge.
They and their captive had heard the few shots and yells, and wondered at the quick cessation of what they supposed was the attack.
Jennie had been glad to feel that Kit Carey had been too wary to run into the ambush, for had he done so they would have heard the firing.
Then there was a wait until after nightfall, when came the shots and yells, to end as quickly as they had begun.
The young girl had picked up considerable of the Sioux language during her life on the frontier and the talk of her two guards she understood pretty well, was sure that they were in some alarm as to what had occurred.
Then there came two horsemen through the gloom, a word in a low tone, and the two Sioux met their chief.
He was in a humor that was fiendish, and Jennie heard him explain the situation in a few words, and glad was her heart, though she showed no sign of understanding what had been said, as she asked in an innocent way:
"Where is the scalp of the white captain, which the Red Hatchet was to show me?"
"It hangs at the belt of the Red Hatchet. The Snow Flower will never see the white captain again," was the response.
Jennie made no reply, and placing himself by her side the Red Hatchet took her bridle rein and led on toward the retreat in the Bad Lands.
Jennie noted all as she went along, and saw how well chosen the position of the hostiles was to resist attack.
But the chief went on at a rapid pace, ascended to the plateau, where the camps of the hostiles came in view, and going to a large tepee apart from the others called out to an aged Indian squaw as he rode up:
"The mother of the Red Hatchet will care for the Snow Flower, who is the friend of our people."
And thus poor Jennie found herself a captive in the hostiles' retreat.
MOON EYES, THE BRULE MEDICINE MAN.
The Indians are wedded to their superstitions, and their medicine men hold an influence over them far more powerful than the priests of a church in civilization would over their congregations.
A medicine man of tact, cunning, and courage can move a tribe to his liking, even the war chiefs fearing to go against his commands.
And these same medicine men are respected and feared, their slightest vagaries tolerated, and their every wish gratified, be it what it may.
Of late the influence of the war chiefs has been upon the wane, and it was, perhaps, that they realized this fact, and many of them sought, by an Indian war against the whites, to recover their waning prestige.
The power of the medicine men, however, has held firmly, and yet only those who could show their claims to be just by deeds, were acknowledged men of influence.
The contract of the Indians with the whites has caused evolution to work among the tepees of the red men as well as in the haunts of civilization.
I refer to this fact to show how it was possible for a medicine man to wield great power over the superstitious minds of the redskins, and it will be remembered that Sitting Bull, the greatest Roman of them all, was a medicine chief, that his call to be rescued was promptlyanswered, and that a medicine man, Red Hatchet, brought on the fight at Wounded Knee Creek.
Upon the night following the entrance of Red Hatchet and his captive into the hostiles' camp an Indian with bent form, carrying a red staff, and with his black, bushy hair overhanging his face, as though to shield it, was making his way into the Bad Lands.
He wore the costume of a Brule medicine chief, a robe of white beaver skins being thrown over his form, and his war-paint, where visible, was of the most gorgeous hues and disfiguring.
He had necklaces of grizzly bears' claws, others of the beaks of eagles and vultures, and beneath his white beaver robe was the ghost shirt, painted with red hieroglyphics and symbols intelligible only to the medicine chiefs.
His hands were painted blood red, and hanging to a string of braided scalps was a hatchet painted a carmine hue.
As he went along he chanted a weird song, yet his keen eyes seemed to take in the country thoroughly as he approached the Bad Lands.
And such a country, if so it could be called, for it was wild and barren to the extreme of desolation.
The surroundings were seamed and scarred with ravines, rocks, and desert patches.
A table land, or what the Indians called a mesa, arose abruptly from the plain surrounding, and could only be reached by two or three passes, one coming in from the Cheyenne River, which was wild, precipitous, and dangerous to ascend.
Ascending this steep, winding pass, the medicine chiefhalted, and gazed about him by the fast receding light, for the sun was upon the horizon.
Themesawas many miles long, and several in width in some places, and almost as desolate as the plains surrounding it.
Over in one corner, securely sheltered, the camp of the hostiles was discernible, for the camp fires began to brighten in the gathering twilight.
Indian guards were stationed at the passes, and scouts in small bands were encircling the plateau, to warn the camps of the approach of a foe.
The approach of the medicine man had been signaled by the scouts, and the guards at the pass crowded about him, and yet with seeming awe and respect, for not a word did they utter.
The stranger half-straightened up, shaded his eyes and glanced toward the eastern skies, yet rosy with the sunset, and bent low again.
Then he turned toward the other direction, unshaded his eyes, and seemed to regard the darkened skies as though he could read there omens of good or evil.
In silence he passed on toward the distant camps of the hostiles.
In the same bent posture he entered the village of tepees, making his way along toward the medicine lodge of the Brules.[7]
The medicine chief of the Brules was a cunning old fox, very infirm, however, from his years, and yet one who could mold his people to his will.
Suddenly the strange medicine chief, wearing the whitebeaver robe[8]of honor, entered the sacred precincts of the medicine tepee, and said in a low voice:
"The Moon Eyes has come to see by night what the Sun Gazer cannot behold in the darkness. The Moon Eyes has come from the foes of our people, and he wears the ghost shirt to kill, and the red tomahawk."
The Sun Gazer, for such was the name of the Brule medicine chief, at once welcomed the stranger to the tepee, and the two talked long and earnestly together.
At last the Moon Eyes arose and glided from the tepee, making his way about the Indian village, and gradually edging toward the pass nearest the Cheyenne River.
He passed the guards in silence, held on down the winding trail, and thus on for a mile or more, constantly turning and glancing back in the moonlight to see that he was not tracked.
At last he halted at a narrow, deep ravine, and gave a low call.
A response came from the darkness below, and then from beneath his robe the medicine chief took a pencil and paper, and when it was finished placed it upon the end of his long, red staff, and handed it down into the ravine.
When he withdrew the staff the paper was gone, and he said, in the same guarded tone:
"Let the Flying Fox go like the wind, straight as the bird flies, to the camp of General Miles, and to-morrow night I will come here again."
A response came from below in the ravine, and the medicine chief then slowly retraced his way toward the hostiles' camp, making signs at the moon as he neared the guards at the pass.
[7]There were among the hostiles, Brules, who were the most dangerous and desperate of all. Ogallalas, Uncopapas, and scattering bucks from other tribes.
[7]There were among the hostiles, Brules, who were the most dangerous and desperate of all. Ogallalas, Uncopapas, and scattering bucks from other tribes.
[8]The white beaver is a sacred animal among the Indians, and only the most honored can wear a robe of white beaver skins.
[8]The white beaver is a sacred animal among the Indians, and only the most honored can wear a robe of white beaver skins.
WINNING THE "TWO BARS."
General Miles[9]slept, as did the great Napoleon, with one eye open, so to speak, for he was always awake to any call, the arrival of a scout, or courier at the agency, where his headquarters were located, and ready to take the saddle at a moment's notice.
So it was when an orderly told him that one of "Captain Carey's scouts had arrived," he was at once ready to have him enter, though it was just before dawn of day.
"Me Flying Fox, white captain's good Indian. Come with talking paper to big white chief," said the redskin courier.
"Where did you leave your captain, Flying Fox?" asked the general.
"Over in Bad Lands."
"Ah! has he gone there?"
"White captain no know afraid; he brave chief; go as medicine man into camp; come back, and give Flying Fox talking paper for big chief."
"When did you leave him?"
"Six hours ago, big chief."
The general at once turned to the paper he held in his hand, and glanced rapidly over it.
Then he sent the orderly to request the presence of his adjutant-general, and that officer promptly put in an appearance.
"Major, I have here a note from Carey, brought by Flying Fox here, who left him six hours ago in the Bad Lands. He states that Red Hatchet was really the cause of the trouble at Wounded Knee, and escaped. That he went on a raid with thirty braves immediately afterward and captured the daughter of Settler Vance Bernard, who has been so stubborn, against all urging and orders, to remain at his ranch. Red Hatchet escaped to the Bad Lands with his captive, though pursued by Carey, and the latter unable to come up with him, and knowing that an ambush awaited him, scattered his scouts, and disguising himself as a Brule medicine chief, entered the camps of the hostiles."
"Carey is too reckless, and he'll never escape, I feel sure, sir, without detection," the adjutant said.
"Well, he came out of the retreat to write me this letter, and send it by his redskin scout here, who tells me that he has a comrade in hiding at the place where Carey joined him and sent him from. Then Carey returned to the retreat of the hostiles, but you see hereis a full list of their forces, chiefs, warriors, and women and children, and a description of their camp and its approaches. This is most valuable information, and wins for Carey a brevet captaincy, given on the field, until he can get his promotion. The captive girl, he says, is there, and Red Hatchet also, while he hints at a discovery which will be a surprise, and says that I may send his man back again, and he will dispatch his other courier to-morrow night, or as soon after as possible, if he gleans other news, or will come himself if he can escape with the settler's daughter."
"Carey does, indeed, deserve his captaincy, general, and I only hope he will live to get it," said the adjutant.
After some further conversation upon the subject the general ordered the Indian soldier to be ready to start upon his return to his white captain in time to get near the Bad Lands by nightfall, so as to gain the hiding-place unseen where his comrade was, and where Kit Carey was to meet him.
Well rested and fed, and mounted upon a fresh horse, Flying Fox started upon his return at the appointed hour, and in a letter that he carried to the cavalry officer occurred these words:
"Your indomitable pluck shown in the execution of your perilous duties during this campaign thus far, allow me the pleasure of appointing you in the field as special scouting officer, with the rank of captain."
Then followed some instructions as to the positions of the various forces, as a guide to Captain Carey, should he need quick aid from any one of the commanders who were narrowing the circle about the hostiles' retreat.
The positions described were as follows, and to eachcommander word was sent to be ready to obey a call from Captain Carey, who was allowed discretionary powers in requesting an advance from any one column:
General Carr, with nine troops of the Sixth Cavalry, one company of the Seventeenth Infantry, and two Hotchkiss guns at the junction of Wounded Knee Creek and White River; Colonel Offley, with two troops of the Eighth Cavalry and six companies of the Seventeenth Infantry, will be on White River, about four miles south-west of Big Grass Creek; Colonel Sanford, with four troops of the Eighth Cavalry, four companies of the Second Infantry and one Hotchkiss gun, will be at the junction of White Clay Creek and White River; Colonel Wheaton, with four troops of the Ninth Cavalry, four companies of the Second Infantry and two Hotchkiss guns, will be on White River, three miles north of Lower Lime-Kiln Creek, and about eight miles from the hostile camp; Major Whitney, with three troops of the Ninth Cavalry and one company of the Eighth Infantry, will be on Wounded Knee Creek, a short distance from the late battle-field; Captain Illsley, with four companies of the Seventh Cavalry, will be on Lower Lime-Kiln Creek.
So back to the daring young officer, who had dared take his life in his hands and enter the camp of the hostiles, disguised as a medicine chief, though none knew better than he the terrible tortures that would be inflicted upon him if he was discovered by the redskins.
[9]General Miles is the youngest Major-General in the army—the only Major-General who did not receive a military education. He entered the Union army as a captain of volunteers, but fought his way up to be a commissioned Major-General at the close of the war. He was in every battle of the Army of the Potomac, where he received three wounds, one in the throat—a close call. Custer was the youngest West Point Major-General in the army, yet Custer did not graduate from the military academy. He entered the army somewhat under a cloud, as he went out in search of Indian adventures, when he met the northern bands on the banks of the Little Big Horn. General Miles has the best record as an Indian fighter of any officer in the army and a splendid record in the late war. He is well versed in men and affairs. He is a man of good judgment and great energy.
[9]General Miles is the youngest Major-General in the army—the only Major-General who did not receive a military education. He entered the Union army as a captain of volunteers, but fought his way up to be a commissioned Major-General at the close of the war. He was in every battle of the Army of the Potomac, where he received three wounds, one in the throat—a close call. Custer was the youngest West Point Major-General in the army, yet Custer did not graduate from the military academy. He entered the army somewhat under a cloud, as he went out in search of Indian adventures, when he met the northern bands on the banks of the Little Big Horn. General Miles has the best record as an Indian fighter of any officer in the army and a splendid record in the late war. He is well versed in men and affairs. He is a man of good judgment and great energy.
A SPY IN THE REDSKINS' CAMP.
Now that the reader is aware that the pretended Brule medicine Chief Moon Eyes, was none other than Kit Carey, it will be well to watch his career in the camp of the redskins.
Speaking the language as he did, acquainted with all their superstitions and customs, and utterly devoid of fear, he had decided upon the bold move he had entered upon not only to endeavor to rescue Jennie Woodbridge from her merciless captor, but to discover all that he could regarding the exact fighting force of the hostiles, their means of subsistence, chances of holding out, and just how they were armed.
He was also anxious to know if there was any move intended in force in a dash upon the settlements, the agency, or by ambushing one of the commands that were encircling them.
As a Brule medicine man he could glean information without appearing to seek it, and he knew that his safety lay in not standing inspection in the broad glare of day.
He had assumed the name of Moon Eyes, pretending that only by night should he be seen and attend to his duties, and this gave him a chance to lie hidden by day, or rather keep within the shadow of his medicine tepee.
The Sun Gazer was equally anxious to be about onlyby day, and the vindictive old wretch lost no time in trying to ferment trouble.
Just who Moon Eyes was he did not know, but the stranger flattered the vanity of the old medicine chief to such an extent that he was willing to swear by him to the end.
Having returned from dispatching his courier to the general, Moon Eyes at once began to circulate all around the camps, still keeping up his incantations to the moon, until that orb went down behind the horizon.
In doing this there was method in the seeming madness of the fake medicine man, for he had discovered the position of the camps most completely, and all that he cared to know about the strength of the hostiles.
He found out just where the young captive was quartered, and he overheard enough, among a council of chiefs, to know that they were anxious to kill and scalp himself.
With the scalp of Kit Carey in their possession the chiefs thought that it would bring them luck and teach their white foes the lesson that they were in earnest.
In spite of his rank the Indians regarded Kit Carey as holding a most important position in the army, for it was by his deeds that they knew him, and the fact that he commanded the Indian soldiers clustered about their lines.
So it was decided to send out a young Brule warrior, bearing the very appropriate name of Not-Afraid-of-Death to kill the white captain, or any other army officer that he might be able to lead into a trap.
Having made the discovery that Not-Afraid-of-Death was to take the trail before dawn, Kit Carey returned tothe medicine lodge, and told the old chief that he was to "go into the shadows of sleep," and not to be disturbed until he awoke after nightfall, for he was to see what fortune the moon held for the Indians.
Then he slipped again out of camp, and went to a position some distance from the retreat, where Not-Afraid-of-Death was to start upon his trail for an officer's scalp, his fondest desire being to raise the hair of Kit Carey.
Having secured a point of look-out, the white captain lay in wait for future developments.
Along in the morning Not-Afraid-of-Death was visible scouting along a ridge, as though he saw an enemy, for his every movement indicated as much.
He was a Brule, and with him was an Ogallala warrior, and the two ran in a crouching position to a certain point.
Who they were watching Kit Carey could not see, for the ridge shut their intended victim from his sight.
But soon after there rode into view an officer accompanied by an Indian scout.
Quickly Kit Carey drew his glass from beneath his robe and turned it upon the officer, who sat upon his horse reconnoitering the country before him. He gazed for a while through the glass, and then muttered:
"It is that splendid fellow, Casey, of the Twenty-second Infantry, and who has a command of irregular cavalry. He is too daring to venture thus far into the lines," added the white captain, seeming to forget what he was then engaged in.
Lieutenant Casey still sat upon his horse some distance from where Kit Carey was in hiding, and his glassswept the country thoroughly, taking in the dust as it arose under the hoofs of some Indian rider, and noting the plateau and buttes beyond, where was the camp of the hostiles.
Behind him was his sole companion, the Indian soldier, who sat like a statue on his horse, awaiting the will of the young officer.
"I wish I could get to speak to Casey and warn him off, for he is in great danger of a shot from some hostile scout lying in hiding; but I dare not make the attempt, for I would be seen, and that would end my career very quickly. But if I could only see him for half an hour's talk, I would be able to explain much, which I cannot write—ah! he is going—no, he is riding nearer to the hostiles' lines. Heaven grant he be not sacrificed to his recklessness. Great God! it is as I feared! poor Casey has got his death wound, but his slayer shall never have his scalp!" and Kit Carey threw his rifle to his shoulder as he spoke, and pulled trigger as soon as his aim fell upon the Indian bounding forward to scalp the daring Casey, who had dropped dead from his horse at the fire from an Indian, who had suddenly risen from behind the ridge near him.
At the shot from behind him Lieutenant Casey had thrown up his arms, and then fell from his saddle as his horse wheeled and ran off, while the Indian soldier in alarm had also fled at full speed.
The Indian bounding to secure the scalp of the young officer was Not-Afraid-of-Death, the Brule warrior, and he held his scalping-knife in hand, while from his lips burst a triumphant war-cry.
But from afar off had come a white puff of smoke, afaint report of a rifle followed, and then the sting of the bullet as it struck the Brule brave and bringing him down as he ran, his rapid impetus causing him to roll over and over again.
All day long the avenger watched the body of the young officer and his slayer, not daring to venture near, or leave his hiding-place, and then, to his joy, he saw the Indian soldier come in sight, followed by a party of cavalry, and, dashing up to the spot, carry off the body of the officer, while the Cheyenne scout quickly removed the scalp of the dead Brule, though he could give no account of his killing.
And then, as the evening shadows began to lengthen, the disguised officer made his way back toward the retreat of the hostiles, to once more play the daring role of spy in the hostile camp.
HOPE AND DESPAIR.
There was a grand pow-wow of chiefs in the camp of the hostiles, though old Red Cloud, his loyalty doubted by many, and held against his will, was not allowed to be there.
The two "garmols," Kicking Bear and Short Bull, had called the council, to make a report which Sun Gazer, the medicine chief, had urged during the day of what should be known, as it was for the good of all.
There were present in the council lodge, the well-known Chiefs Little Wound, Two Strike, Big Road, Big Turkey, He Dog, High Pipe, Lone Wolf, No Water, and at last in stalked Red Hatchet, who was fast coming to the front as a leader, and had the ambition to become head chief.
Two Strike was the one to open the council, and what he said fell with startling force upon all present, especially upon Red Hatchet, whose eyes blazed furiously as he heard that the pow-wow was called to make a charge against him.
The fact was Kit Carey, in his character of Moon Eyes, had poured poison into the ear of old Sun Gazer against Red Hatchet.
He had found it impossible to get a word with Jennie Woodbridge without exciting suspicion, for every redskin was suspicious of another in that mixed assemblage,and so he had tried to get possession of the young girl by a very clever trick.
So old Sun Gazer had been secretly informed that the moon revealed the fact to Moon Eyes that there was a white maiden a captive in the camp, and held as a secret by a chief high in authority.
After consulting his oracle Moon Eyes made known that Red Hatchet was the chief, and that he had captured the daughter of a pale-face, who was the firm friend of the Indians.
All this was cunningly put, and old Sun Gazer at once was urged to report to Red Cloud.
But as that chief was under a cloud he made his report to Little Wound and Two Strike, and the chiefs were promptly summoned to the council.
All, excepting Red Hatchet, were really startled by the tidings that there was a captive in camp, and one who was the daughter of a man who had ever been the friend of the redskins.
When the information had been given that a chief had brought her, then Two Strike demanded that the guilty one declare himself at once.
Then Red Hatchet arose in his majesty, and said that he it was who had brought the captive there, and placed her in the keeping of his mother.
He said that she had been sent there by her people, to prevent her from running away with their worst foe, the white captain, the War Eagle, who was like a hound on the track of the Sioux.
He asserted that the settler had shown his trust in his red friends, his love for his redskin brother, himself, by giving his daughter to his keeping, and that he preferredshe should become the wife of a Sioux chief, rather than that of the pale-face soldier, their untiring enemy.
The words of Red Hatchet made a decided impression, and he was not slow in discovering it, so went on to say that as the captive was there, if the chiefs thought best, she would be given into the keeping of Sun Gazer, the medicine chief, to hold until they should utterly crush their pale-face foes, when she was, as his, Red Hatchet's wife, to become an adopted daughter of their tribe.
This the chief agreed to, and so it was that Kit Carey's plot met with success thus far, as Jennie Woodbridge was taken to the tepee of the medicine chief, where no warrior dare enter under penalty of death.
But it so happened that Kit Carey had his eyes open to what was going on, and he saw the captive taken there by Two Strike and Little Wound, and as old Sun Gazer was asleep, he, Moon Eyes, was bidden to guard her securely, which he most faithfully promised to do.
Poor Jennie did not understand this change, from the care of the Chief Red Hatchet's mother, to that of the medicine man, and was dreading some terrible fate, when the flap of the tepee was raised, and she heard a voice say in a whisper:
"Do not distress yourself, Miss Bernard, for you have one near to serve you."
"Who are you?" cried Jennie, hardly believing what she heard could be true.
"I am known in the army register as Captain Carey, Miss Bernard; but in the hostiles' camp I am supposed to be Moon Eyes, a Brule medicine chief."
"Oh, what peril you are in!" came in almost a moan from the lips of the young girl.
"I think not as much as you suspect; but cheer up, and be ready to take advantage of anything that may occur to aid your escape. I need not urge you to retain your presence of mind, for you have a wonderful nerve—good-night!" and the pretended medicine man was gone, leaving Jennie Woodbridge in a flutter of excitement, and bordering between hope and despair.
RED HATCHET'S REFUSAL.
The poor girl had hope with such a friend near as was Kit Carey, and then came the knowledge of all the danger he was in, what would follow discovery of who he was, and her dread for him was even greater than for herself, and it seemed that in spite of her nerve and his dauntless courage despair would creep into her breast.
There had been a fight with the soldiers up near the Pine Ridge Agency, and some dead and wounded warriors had been brought into the retreat, throwing the camps into a tumult of excitement.
Then came an attack of the Sioux upon a wagon-train passing near their lines, and, though they had felt sure of victory, a party of cavalry had come to the rescue, saved the Government stores and the lives of the defenders of the wagons, and beaten off the Sioux.
That Not-Afraid-of-Death had killed his man the chief knew, and the similarity in the name caused them to rejoice that Lieutenant Carey, the white captain, had been killed, though they regretted that his scalp had not been secured by the redskins, who, from a distance, had seen the killing, yet dared not venture out to secure the trophy.
Who in turn had killed Not-Afraid-of-Death was a mystery which no one could solve, though the scoutsreported that it was one of the officer's Indian soldiers lying in ambush.
That the cavalry had made a dash in and recovered the body of the lieutenant, was also deeply regretted by the hostiles.
In the midst of all the tumult, following into camp had come a horseman, who was known to be a pale-face in disguise.
He made no secret of the fact, gave a name which the Indians recognized as that of a friend, and asked to see Red Hatchet.
That chief was called out of the council to speak with the stranger, and regarded him with evident suspicion as he approached him.
"Red Hatchet, I am here to take back with me my sister, for I am White Hawk."
The Red Hatchet knew him now by the name the Indians had given him, for it was Herbert Bernard.
"The Snow Flower is safe with her Indian friends, and will remain. She is in the keeping of the medicine chief," was the response of the Red Hatchet.
"No, she must return with me to her home, for my father, Eagle-that-Kills, has sent me for the Snow Flower."
"The Snow Flower is in the medicine tepee, and when she leaves there it will be as the adopted daughter of the Sioux. She cannot go with the White Hawk," was the rejoinder of the Red Hatchet.
Herbert Bernard crushed an oath between his teeth, and had he not counted the result would have sprang upon the Indian chief then and there.
But instead he said:
"Is the Red Hatchet no longer the friend of the Eagle-that-Kills, and of the White Hawk, that he acts like a foe and steals from them the Snow Flower whom they love so dearly?"
"The Red Hatchet did not steal the Snow Flower, for the White Hawk told him to bring her here, and she came without force, for she loves the Sioux, and her heart is given to Red Hatchet!"
The right hand of Herbert Bernard dropped upon a revolver, but he wisely did not draw it.
He was wholly in the power of the Red Hatchet, and he felt anxious at his position even among those who were his friends, for toward the Bernards the Sioux had certainly shown no enmity.
"Will the Red Hatchet let the White Hawk see the Snow Flower?" he asked.
"No, for the Snow Flower is in the medicine tepee, and no one can see her."
"The Red Hatchet is a traitor to his friend," was the reply of the young settler, as he turned on his heel and walked away, the chief uttering no word, or remonstrance.
As he had come, so he left the camp of the hostiles, mounted his waiting horse, and returned by night to his home without seeing an Indian scout or soldier, and if seen by any one, he was not disturbed.
It was just dawn when he reached his home, and having washed off his paint and resumed his civilized garb, he sought his father.
The latter seemed to feel that he had been unsuccessful, for he asserted, rather than asked:
"You came back alone?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"The Red Hatchet would not give her up."
"You saw him?"
"I did, and he refused."
"You saw Jennie?"
"No, for she was in the medicine lodge."
"Ah! that looks bad; but it shows that the Red Hatchet intends she shall not be given up, but made a daughter of the tribe."
"So he said."
"Well, did you find out that the red fools intend to fight?"
"I was so disappointed that I asked nothing, returning at once."
"Well, that affair at Wounded Knee has infuriated the soldiers. Sitting Bull, their head, has gone, they have had a fight at the agency, attacked a train and were beaten off, and they killed that fellow Carey——"
"Ha! is Kit Carey dead?" cried Herbert Bernard, eagerly.
"Yes, he ventured too near their lines, a courier told me, and was killed."
"I am glad of that."
"Yes, it puts him out of your way as a rival; but possession is nine points of the law, and Red Hatchet has Jennie in his power, and the fool believes that the redskins will whip the soldiers."
"All of them do, and their medicine men tell them that the ghost shirts will render them bullet-proof."
"Fools! poor deluded fools! But I must get the girl, and, perhaps, I can persuade the chief to bury the hatchet—yes, it would be better so, for Miles knows what heis about and has got them hemmed in completely, and if the soldiers attack they will remember Custer and his men, and show no mercy—yes, and avenge Kit Carey, too, for he was the most popular officer in the army," said Vance Bernard, believing that it was Kit Carey who had been killed, as did the Sioux themselves, and also many in the army.
"Well, can you rescue Jennie?" impatiently asked the young man.
"Yes, and I will go to-night and do so," was the confident response of the settler.
THE WHITE RENEGADE.
In his assumed character of Moon Eyes, the medicine man, Captain Kit Carey had managed to have several interviews with Jennie Woodbridge, and it had been arranged that she was to have a disguise as an Indian boy, and hold herself in readiness to go with the officer whenever he deemed it safe to lead her from the retreat of the hostiles.
He had made another night visit to the ravine, where his two Indian soldiers were in hiding, for the courier sent to General Miles had returned in safety, and it was with a glad heart the young soldier read the words of praise, and learned that he had been given the two bars of a captain upon his epaulettes.
He had dispatched the other Indian soldier as courier, with all other information that he had gleaned, and the statement that he could lead the soldiers by a secret pass to the retreat of the hostiles, while the other passes could be so guarded as to prevent the escape of a single warrior when the fight was over.
He also made known that he believed he was able to rescue Red Hatchet's captive without any outside aid.
The second night after the coming of Herbert Bernard to the retreat of the hostiles, another stranger appeared in the camps.
He came not in disguise, nor with painted face, but as a white man only.
It was Vance Bernard, and his coming was soon known, and the chiefs assembled at the council lodge to greet one who was their friend.
If there was any one there that was not looked upon as a friend of the Indians, his presence was not noted.
And yet there was such a person present in the presence of Moon Eyes, the medicine man.
He had slunk away in as secluded a position as he could find seeking to attract no observation to himself.
His eyes were bent down, his long, black hair over his face, and his form crouching, and as still as a statue of bronze.
But his ears were open to every word said.
He saw the welcome given by the chiefs to the settler, Vance Bernard, and heard their words to him.
He also heard the words of the settler in return, and when the name was spoken aloud, the name that was given the white man by the Indians, he gave a slight start as of surprise or delight.
"The Eagle-that-Kills is welcome in the council lodge of the red men. He has been their friend ever since the days when he was their pale-face chief. The Sioux have followed him many moons ago upon the trail of the pale-faces, and they listen to his voice in silence, they know that he speaks wisdom."
Such was the welcome of the leading Indian chief to the Eagle-that-Kills, and as the words reached the ears of the disguised officer his thoughts went back into the past, when he had known of a white renegade who became chief of the Sioux, and was a cruel foe to his own race.
Then he had heard how this same white renegade,known as Eagle-that-Kills, had taken a few braves and haunted the stage-trails, where he was said to have gotten a great deal of booty.
Then he had heard of this same renegade going to the mines of the Black Hills, where it was said that he had been killed in a revolver duel with a brother miner, while others alleged that he had mysteriously disappeared, and had departed this life at the end of a rope.
After the welcome of the chiefs the Eagle-that-Kills arose to speak.
He spoke the Sioux tongue perfectly, and in a deep, melodious voice that was very impressive.
He told the chiefs that he had come to their camps for his child, his daughter, who had been taken from him by a chief, and if, when the hatchet was again buried between them and the pale-faces, the young girl wished to return to the tribe as the wife of the Red Hatchet, she should do so with his full consent; but that she was a mere child then and must go back with him to his home.
Then he told the chiefs that the pale-faces were too strong for them, that winter was upon them, with no grass for their ponies, and only the food of the cattle they had driven to the Bad Lands to subsist upon.
"Wait until the spring comes, and brings green grass for your ponies, when the mountains and valleys are not filled with ice and snow, and the forests are full of game, and then strike at your white foes, if you wish; but not now."
Many heard his words with a feeling that he advised them wisely, but others, the younger warriors, wouldhear of no argument that would prevent a test of their strength with the soldiers.
"The Eagle-that-Kills has spoken, and he still loves his red children. If they perish under the big guns of the pale-faces they will remember that he warned them. He has no more to say."
With this the renegade white man, as he is now known to be, withdrew with bowed head and in silence from the council tepee.
The head chief followed him, and went with him to the medicine lodge.
There Sun Gazer was aroused from his slumbers, and bade to bring forth the girl captive from the sacred lodge.
He obeyed, and Jennie Woodbridge found herself face to face with the man who had so cruelly deceived her.
"You here?" she exclaimed, with a look of dread.
"Yes, Herbert came for you two nights ago, but they would not give you up. I have more influence here, for you go with me."
"I can offer no resistance," was the sad reply.
And then the renegade left the camp of the hostiles with the captive of Red Hatchet, wending his way along the trails as though he knew every foot of the land well.
He had horses awaiting down in the valley, his own and one for poor Jennie, and mounting they moved on, neither noticing that a dark form was dogging their trail.
And had the one who was dogging the settler's trail looked back closely he might have seen in the moonlight a dark form following upon his track.