Scarcely had Frank disappeared behind his tree, when a young Indian stepped from the bushes, and stood out in full view of him. It was his rival of the morning—the one with whom he had run the foot-race. He carried a bow, and a quiver full of arrows, in his hand, and stood gazing earnestly at the gorge, as if mentally calculating its width; and the more he looked at it, the more astonished he became.
"Ugh!" he grunted, at last. "Good boy! Make good jump, makeverygood jump!" Then looking toward the place where Frank was concealed, he called out: "Hay, you!"
The young Indian did not speak these words as plainly as we have written them. He uttered them with his teeth closed, and with a grunting, guttural sound, that can not be imitated on paper.
"What do you want?" asked the fugitive, surprised to hear himself thus addressed.
"You come over, and I no shoot," replied the young Indian.
"Go over there!" exclaimed Frank, "I guess not. If you want to see me more than I want to see you, you must come over here. What do you want, any how?"
"We go back to chief. I no shoot."
"Well, if it's all the same to you, I'll wait awhile before I go back to the chief. You want the honor of taking me prisoner, but you sha'n't have it."
"You no come?" asked the savage.
"No, I no come. I'll stay here."
"You no come, I shoot."
"Go ahead; but keep yourself pretty close over there, or I may shoot too."
"Oh, no," laughed the Indian. "You got no gun, no pistol, no knife—no nothing."
If the young warrior had only known it, he was mistaken in this. Frank had something, which, although by no means as serviceable as a rifle or revolver would have been, was still effective enough in his hands to keep his enemy from crossing the gorge. While this conversation was going on, he had taken a good view of his situation, and finding that he had no way of retreat, he had prepared himself to stand a siege. The tree behind which he had taken refuge was a very small one, not more than half large enough to conceal him from the view of the Indian, and stood, as we have said, on the very brink of the gorge. It afforded him but a poor protection, but he knew that he must remain there, for there was not another tree or rock, or even a thicket of bushes large enough to conceal him, within twenty yards, and the mountain at his back was much too steep to be scaled. If he left his tree to find a better place of concealment, he would present a fair mark for the arrows of the Indian, who handled his bow with so much skill that Frank did not care to expose himself.
Frank, seeing that he was fairly cornered, began making preparations for compelling his enemy to remain on his own side of the gully; for he noticed that the young warrior carried a knife and tomahawk in his belt, and he was afraid that, if he allowed him to come to close quarters, he might not be able to vanquish him as easily as he had done before. At the foot of the tree was a rock which had begun crumbling away; and while he was talking to the Indian, Frank had busied himself in collecting the pieces that were of a size and weight convenient to throw. He had played ball so often that he had become a swift and accurate thrower, and he told himself that if the Indian did not mind what he was about, the interview would end in a way he had not dreamed of.
"He thinks he has got me fast now," thought Frank; "but I shouldn't wonder if he found himself mistaken. If he gives me a fair chance, I'll knock him down with one of these rocks, and go over there and take his weapons away from him. Then I'll make him guide me to the fort by the shortest route."
"Hay, you white boy! You no come I shoot!" exclaimed the Indian again; and, as he spoke, he fitted an arrow to his bow, and pointed it at Frank.
"Shoot away!" replied the latter.
The Indian let fly the arrow, and Frank threw a stone at the same instant. Both made good shots. The arrow struck the tree behind which our hero was concealed, and the stone whistled through the feathers on the young warrior's head-dress. He escaped by an inch.
"Ugh!" he ejaculated, in great astonishment.
"Ugh!" echoed Frank. "Didn't I tell you that you had better keep close? Look out! Here comes another!"
Away flew a second stone, and the Indian dived into the bushes just in time to avoid it, for it went straight toward the mark. He began to have some respect for the white boy, who, although he was without a weapon of any kind, was still brave enough to stand his ground.
The contest thus commenced was kept up for a quarter of an hour. The arrows whistled by the tree whenever Frank showed so much as an inch of his head, and were always answered by a volley of stones, which flew like bullets through the bushes where the Indian was concealed, compelling him more than once to change his position. Then there was quiet for awhile, and the combatants stood watching one another, Frank keeping a sharp lookout for any tricks on the part of his antagonist, and wondering what would be his next move. He was not long in finding out, for presently the young warrior set up a whoop which echoed and re-echoed among the mountains, until it seemed to Frank that the woods were full of yelling savages.
"If he is trying to frighten me, I hope he will have a good time of it," thought Frank. "Perhaps he has settled himself down there with the intention of starving me out. If he has, he will find it up-hill business, for I can go without food and water as long as he can. If I only had my rifle, wouldn't I show him something?"
The Indian waited a few minutes, and repeated the yell; and this time, to Frank's utter amazement and consternation, there was an answer. It came faintly to his ears, but still it was so plain and distinct that he knew he could not be mistaken. Had his rival been calling for assistance? The question was scarcely formed in his mind, when the savage raised his head above the bushes, and coolly announced:
"Hay, you white boy! More Indian coming!"
At that moment Frank's body, being but partially protected by his tree, offered a fair mark, and the young savage was prompt to take advantage of it. Another arrow flew across the gully, and this time it was not thrown away. Frank reeled a moment, threw his arms wildly about his head, and fell heavily to the ground.
The young Indian was evidently very much surprised at the result of his shot. He stood for a moment as if petrified, looking at the prostrate form across the gorge, and then slowly and cautiously stepped out of the bushes to take a nearer view. He shaded his eyes with his hand, twisted himself into all sorts of shapes, ran up and down the bank, and looked at the motionless figure from a dozen different positions, and having satisfied himself at last that his enemy was really dead, he placed his hand to his mouth, and uttered a series of hideous yells, that once more awoke the echoes far and near.
His next move was to cross the gorge. He could not jump it, as Frank had done, and so was obliged to make use of the tree. It trembled and cracked beneath his weight, but he crossed it in safety, and bending over the young hunter, twisted his hand in his hair and yelled furiously. He held this position but an instant. He looked for the wound made by the arrow, but could not find it. Hefeltsomething, however, and that was a very slight pull at his belt, as four sinewy fingers were carefully inserted beneath it. With a cry of terror he sprang to his feet, and Frank arose with him—unharmed, save a slight red mark across his forehead, and as full of fight as ever. Before the young Indian could fully comprehend the trick that had been played upon him, his cries for help were stifled by a strong grasp on his throat, and he was thrown flat upon his back, with his head hanging over the brink of the precipice.
"Now, red skin, I'll show you how easily I can handle you," exclaimed Frank. "I was only playing with you this morning, but now I am in earnest. Keep perfectly still, or I'll pitch you into the gully."
Frank, as we have said, was greatly alarmed when he found that the Indian had been calling for assistance, and that his shouts had elicited a response from some of his friends. He had no fears but that he could hold his ground against one Indian, armed with a bow and arrow, but suppose that the reinforcements who were coming up were full-grown Indians, and supplied with rifles? He must escape from there before they arrived; and the only way that he could discover to accomplish this, was to contrive some plan to induce his antagonist to cross the gorge. If he could bring him to close quarters, and could get hold of him before he had an opportunity to draw his knife or tomahawk, he was sure that he would have nothing to fear; but he dared not leave his tree while his enemy held his position on the opposite side of the gully, for he would send his arrows about him like hail-stones.
All these thoughts passed through Frank's mind in an instant of time; and when the savage discharged his last arrow at him—it passed so close to him that it left a mark across his forehead—he staggered and fell, as if he had been mortally wounded. That was his plan for bringing his enemy across the gorge, and we have seen how it succeeded. His design now was to disarm the savage, tie him to a tree, and then take to his heels, and leave the gully as far behind as possible, before the reinforcements arrived.
"I'm all right yet, you see," said Frank, holding his antagonist down with one hand, and with the other unfastening the belt in which he carried his knife and tomahawk. "If you live a few years longer, you will learn that an Indian never gets smart enough to outwit a white man. Now——"
Frank did not finish the sentence, for just then he happened to look up, and saw a sight that drove all thoughts of the Indian out of his mind. The bank on which he and his antagonist were lying, hung over the gorge, and a portion of it, about twenty feet square, having, no doubt, been loosened by their struggles, was sinking down into the abyss, carrying with it Frank and the Indian, and also the tree which had served the latter for a breast-work. Its motion was slow, almost imperceptible at first, but it was gathering headway, and moving more rapidly every instant. As quick as thought Frank was on his feet, and gathering himself for a spring; but it was too late. The earth slid from beneath him, and, like a drowning man grasping at straws, Frank clutched the branches of the tree with a death-grip, and plunged with it into the gorge. For an instant he descended with what seemed to him lightning rapidity, and then the motion was suddenly checked—so suddenly, that the branches were almost torn from his grasp—and he found himself swinging in the air, twenty feet below the top of the precipice. The tree was hanging with its head downward, but its roots were still imbedded in the firm earth above; and that was all that had saved Frank from destruction.
All this passed in much less time than we have taken to describe it, and it may be imagined that Frank's mind was in a great whirl. When he recovered himself sufficiently to understand his situation, he looked up and saw the young Indian clinging to the roots of the tree, and struggling to draw himself up to the firm ground above. He saw more: he saw that with every effort the Indian made, he was loosening the roots of the tree, and that one by one they were giving away. Forgetting, in that moment of peril, that he and the young warrior had been engaged in a desperate fight but a moment before, Frank, still hanging at arm's length from the branches of the tree, with an abyss of unknown depth below him, into which he was every instant expecting to be plunged by the giving away of the roots above, addressed words of advice and encouragement to the frightened savage.
"Take it easy, up there!" said he, coolly. "Don't thrash about so, for you are only exhausting yourself, without doing any good. Take your time, and you are all right."
But the Indian was too nearly overcome with fear, and too intent upon extricating himself from his dangerous position, to heed the advice. He struggled more desperately than ever, and finally, to Frank's immense relief, succeeded in pulling himself over the roots, and crawling up to the solid bank. Then his fear all vanished. He uttered a loud yell of exultation, and bent over the precipice to look at Frank, who was coming up through the branches hand over hand. He watched him for a moment, and then disappeared from view; and when he came back to the brink of the gorge, he carried his bow in his hand, with an arrow fitted to the string, which he drew to its head, and pointed straight at Frank's breast.
The young hunter was now menaced by another danger. He had escaped falling into the gorge almost by a miracle, but it did not seem possible that there was the least chance for escape this time. The Indian was standing on the bank above him, and Frank could almost touch the steel head of the arrow with his hand. He was completely at the mercy of his foe, who surely could not miss so large a mark at that distance. His bearing at that moment would have delighted Dick Lewis, could he have seen him. He hung by his hands from the branches of the tree, looking defiantly up into the Indian's face, and not a muscle quivered. The young warrior was evidently astonished, for he lowered his bow, gazed down at his helpless antagonist for a moment, and called out:
"White boy, you no afraid?"
"Shoot close," replied Frank, his voice as firm and steady as ever. "If you miss, you are a goner."
Once more the arrow was drawn to its head, and pointed at Frank's heart; but the Indian did not shoot. He looked up, as if alarmed by some unusual sound, and then, to Frank's astonishment, dropped his bow, and took to his heels. The young hunter could not imagine what had caused his precipitate flight, and just then he did not care. Something had befriended him by frightening the Indian away most opportunely, and Frank improved the respite thus unexpectedly given him, by clasping his legs around the body of the tree, and ascending quickly to the top of the gorge. He did not know what new danger he might meet there, nor did he give the matter a moment's thought. He would certainly have a much better chance for life while standing on the solid ground, where he could fight or run, as circumstances might require, than he had while hanging suspended in the air over the brink of the gorge.
In a few seconds Frank was within reach of the roots of the tree, and drawing in a long breath of relief, he pulled himself over them, and looked cautiously over the top of the bank. Then he saw that the friend who had rescued him from the arrow of the savage, was an enormous grizzly bear, almost large and ugly enough to be a second Old Davy. About fifty yards down the bank of the ravine stood a scrub pine; and in its topmost branches sat the young warrior, looking down at his shaggy foe, which was walking in a circle around the tree, now and then seating himself on his haunches, and gazing up into it, as if trying to contrive some plan to bring the Indian down to him.
"Hurra for you, grizzly," said Frank, to himself. "You have rendered me a most valuable service; and that you may never feel a trapper's bullet, or an Indian's arrow, is the sincere wish of, yours truly. Keep him up there for an hour or two, and I'll just take his weapons, and make myself scarce about here. I'll never forget this gully as long as I live."
Frank crawled noiselessly upon the bank, picked up the bow, and the quiver of arrows, possessed himself of the Indian's belt, which contained his knife and tomahawk, and looked about for some means of crossing the gorge without attracting the attention of the grizzly. That was a matter that he need not have troubled himself about, for the bear's quick ear had caught the sound of his footsteps, and, leaving the tree, he turned to attack Frank. He came on at a rapid pace, uttering hideous growls, and looking savage enough to frighten any body. He certainly frightened Frank, who could see but one way of escape, and that was to jump the gully. It was wider now than it was before, but he had a chance for a running start, and he accomplished the feat in safety, to the no small amazement of the Indian, who yelled at him with all the strength of his lungs.
"I suppose you thought I was caught, didn't you?" exclaimed Frank. "Well, I wasn't. I am all right yet; and now I will leave you in the grizzly's company."
But Frank, as it happened, was not yet done with the bear. The animal stopped when he saw that the boy had eluded him, and turned immediately, and ran toward the tree which lay across the gully. Things began to look dark again for the young hunter. If the bear were allowed to cross the gorge, he would, of course, compel him to take refuge in a tree, and there was no knowing how long he might keep him there. He could not forget that there were more Indians not a great way off, and that they had heard the young warrior's yells, and were hastening to his assistance. The grizzly, although he had saved him from the fury of his rival, might, after all, be the cause of his capture.
Frank saw the necessity of prompt action. His first thought was to try an arrow on the bear; but he abandoned the idea when he reflected that the bow was a weapon to which he was not accustomed, and that the chances were not one in ten that his arrow would reach a vital part. The grizzly was already half way across the gorge. The tree shook and bent beneath his weight, and Frank hoped it would break; but he could not afford to trust any thing to luck. He put it out of the animal's power to cross to his side of the gully, and caused his destruction at the same time, by seizing the tree with both hands, and lifting it from its place, and pitching it over the precipice. It fell with a loud crash, carrying with it the bear, which speedily disappeared from his view among the bushes and rocks which covered the sides of the gorge.
Frank, scarcely waiting to see what had become of the grizzly, snatched up the Indian's weapons, and flew down the mountain at the top of his speed, fastening the belt around his waist, and slinging the quiver of arrows over his shoulder as he ran. His mishaps at the gully had consumed a good deal of valuable time, and Frank was now in momentary expectation of hearing the reinforcements, who had been summoned by his rival, bounding along his trail in pursuit. He could not hope to beat full-grown Indian braves in a fair race, but he could, perhaps, elude them, and this he resolved to attempt. He had often heard the trappers describe the plans to which they resorted to throw pursuing Indians off their trail, and the information he had gained from their stories was of value to him now. He walked on every log he could find, jumped from rock to rock, doubled on his trail, and finally he found himself on the banks of a little trout-brook, the course of which he followed for two or three miles, walking in the water all the way. Of course, as he paid no attention to the points of the compass, he got completely bewildered; and when he stepped out of the brook, and sat down on the bank to rest, he did not know whether he had been traveling toward the fort or not, or whether he was distant from it one mile or twenty. But that was a matter that did not trouble him. He was satisfied that he had eluded pursuit for the present, and he was also certain of another thing, and that was, that he was very hungry. His first care must be to obtain something to eat. That was not a difficult task, for there was a trout-brook at his feet, and he had a fish-line, and a flint and steel in his pocket. In half an hour's time a fire was burning brightly on the bank, three large trout, supported on sticks driven into the ground, were roasting before it, and Frank lay stretched out on the grass, watching the fish with a hungry eye, and thinking over his adventures at the gully. He began to be lonesome, and to long for companionship; and his wish was gratified before he was many minutes older, for, when the fish were done to a turn, and he was about to begin his meal, he was startled by the sound of voices and footsteps. He listened intently for a moment, and finding that the sounds grew louder, and that the intruders, whoever they were, were approaching his camp, he caught up his bow and arrows, and darted into the bushes. He had barely time to conceal himself before Black Bill and Adam Brent emerged from a thicket on the opposite side of the brook. The former stopped and looked about him suspiciously when he saw the fire, and the fish roasting before it, and cocked his rifle, as if in momentary expectation of discovering an enemy. A single glance at Adam's face satisfied Frank that he was a prisoner, and not a willing companion of the outlaw.
"Somebody has been campin' thar," said Black Bill; "but I reckon he heered us, an' tuk himself off. We'll go over an' look at things, an' see what's been goin' on."
The outlaw and his captive crossed the brook, and the former, after a few minutes' examination of the ground about the fire, struck the butt of his rifle with his fist, and opened his eyes in great amazement.
"It's the feller that run the foot-race yesterday, as sartin as I'm alive," said he, in a tone of voice which indicated that he did not understand the matter at all; "an' I'd like to know how he come here. The last time I seed him he was a prisoner in the chief's lodge, an' thar were two Injuns guardin' him. See them shoe-prints on the bank of the brook? Thar's where he stood when he ketched them fish. An' here's the pole he used, too. He was layin' on the grass beside that rock, an' when he heered us comin', he run off."
"Which was a lucky thing for him," observed Adam.
"Wal, I don't reckon it will do him any good," replied the outlaw; "'cause arter we eat these yere fish of his'n, we'll hunt him up. If we don't find him, some of the Injuns will, most likely; an' even if he aint ketched at all, how much better off is he than he would be with the chief? Thar aint nothing left of Fort Stockton, an' he can't find no friends short of Fort Benton, an' that's a good hundred miles from here."
Frank was lying in the bushes, not more than twenty feet from the outlaw, and distinctly heard every word of the conversation. The information he gained from it destroyed his last hope. The savages had made the attack upon the trading-post during the previous night, and it had been successful. The soldiers and trappers were all massacred or scattered to the four winds of heaven, and he had no friends to look to for assistance within less than a hundred miles. The prospect before him was certainly most discouraging, but he could not dwell upon it then, for he had other matters to think of. He was in close proximity to a dangerous enemy, and how was he to elude him? This question was answered by the outlaw himself, whose actions suggested to Frank another daring project, which he was prompt to carry into execution. Black Bill laid his rifle upon the ground, and kneeled down beside the brook to drink. Scarcely had he taken a swallow of the water, when he heard footsteps behind him, and upon looking up saw Frank standing over him with his bow in his hand, and an arrow pointed straight at his breast.
"Don't move hand or foot," said the young hunter, so excited that he could scarcely speak. "Your game is up."
Adam was no less astonished at Frank's sudden appearance than was the outlaw; but he quickly recovered his presence of mind, and catching up his captor's rifle, leveled it full at his head.
"Surrender, Black Bill!" he exclaimed. "If you attempt to get up I'll send a ball into you."
The looks of the weapons were enough to frighten the outlaw into submission. He made no remark, but it was easy enough to see that he was not brave enough to think seriously of attempting resistance.
"Now, Adam," said Frank, "keep him covered with your rifle, and if he shows fight, bang away. I'll soon put it out of his power to do any mischief."
As Frank spoke he produced his fish-line from his pocket, and after doubling it two or three times, passed it around the outlaw's wrists, and tied it securely. The latter, at first, showed a disposition to be ugly, and resisted Frank's efforts to bring his hands behind his back; but the expression he saw on the face of Adam Brent, as he cocked the rifle, and placed its cold muzzle against his temple, quickly brought him to terms. Frank handled the fish-line skilfully, and in a few minutes the outlaw was as helpless as though he had been in irons.
"There!" said Adam; "he is all right, and so am I. I feel a little more at ease than I did ten minutes ago. What's to be done now?"
"The first think is breakfast," replied Frank. "Here are three trout—one apiece; and although they are hardly enough to make a meal for one hungry man, we can't catch any more, for my fish-line is in use. Help yourself. I'll feed Black Bill, if he wants any thing to eat. By the way, is this man what he claims to be?"
"I suppose he is my uncle," answered Adam; "but he doesn't act like it, does he? He has kept me a prisoner for ten years; or, it amounts to the same thing, for I could scarcely go out of the house, unless accompanied by my father. That is the story I promised to tell you, and I will relate it now while we are resting and eating our breakfast. Then I will tell you what happened last night at the fort."
"Black Bill, if you want me to feed you, come here," said Frank.
"Chaw your own grub," was the gruff response.
"All right. If you get hungry before night, you will know who to blame."
The boys, leaving the outlaw sitting sullenly on the bank of the brook, stretched themselves on the grass near the fire, with their weapons close at their side, and Adam began his story.
"I shall try to tell my story," began Adam, "just as my father told it to me, years ago. It is not a long one, and even if it was, I should hurry through it as rapidly as possible, for it is a matter I do not like to talk about. That man," he added, nodding his head toward the outlaw, and speaking as plainly as a mouthful of fish would permit, "is a walking illustration of what bad company will do. He is my uncle, I am sorry to say, but, for a long time, I have never called him by any other name than Black Bill. In my story, however, I shall speak of him as William. I can remember when he was an uncle worth having. I used to run to meet him whenever I saw him coming, would stand at his side for hours listening to the story of his adventures in the mines, and was never easy unless I was in his company. But things have changed of late. I would run away from him now if I saw him coming toward me, and I am much more uncomfortable in his presence than I used to be out of it.
"When I was about six years old, mother and I lived with my grandfather at Placer City, in California. He kept a grocery and provision store, and my father and his brother William owned and worked a claim in the mines. The claim paid well, much better than any other for miles about, and father was steadily growing rich by his labor. William ought to have been equally prosperous, for he received half the profits; but somehow he never had a cent of money in his pocket, but was continually asking assistance from father, of whom he borrowed, first and last, several thousand dollars, which he has never taken the trouble to return. He said he was buying up claims; but when he had a quarrel with a miner about a gambling debt which he could not pay, the truth came out, and father saw where his money had been going. He found out, too, that for months William had been keeping company with some of the very worst men in the mines—gamblers, horse-thieves, and criminals of every sort, who had run away from the States to get out of reach of the law.
"I need not stop to tell you how shocked and pained all the family were when they heard of this, or how they tried, by every means in their power, to make William see what would surely be his end if he did not abandon the life he was leading. Of course, he made promises of amendment, and, for a while, held manfully to them; but it requires moral courage to resist temptation, and that was something William did not possess. It was not long before he was as bad as ever; and when he could go no farther for want of money, he came to father to borrow. Then came the first quarrel between the brothers. Father refused to accede to his demand, and William threatened vengeance. He did not say what he would do, but father knew what he had determined upon, as well as if he had told him in so many words.
"Father had been in the habit of depositing his gold-dust in the safe at the store. William knew it, and was resolved to have that gold-dust. If he could not borrow it, he would steal it. He broke into the store that very night, but found the safe empty. Father had removed every dollar of the money. The noise he made in breaking open the safe aroused grandfather, who slept in a room over the store; and not recognizing William in the darkness, he gave him a shot from his revolver. The ball took effect somewhere, for the next morning there was blood on the floor, and William was nowhere to be found. Every one wondered who the robber could be, and a great many questions were asked about the missing man; for he had been a prominent character in the mines, and his mysterious disappearance excited curiosity. But it did not stop there. That curiosity became suspicion; and it was not long before it was noised abroad that he was the guilty one.
"William kept clear of Placer City forever afterward. The miners had a summary way of dealing with such men, and if they could have found him, the influence of all his friends and relatives combined could not have saved him. It was not long after that before people began to talk about Black Bill—the leader of a band of robbers who infested the mountains between Placer City and Sacramento; and in less than two weeks father fell into his hands. He recognized the chief, if others did not, and you can imagine what his feelings were when he found that he was his own brother. Black Bill robbed him, as he robbed every one else who came in his way, and released him with this warning, as nearly as I can recall the words:
"'You have made me what I am,' said the robber, 'and I will be revenged in a way you do not think of. I shall not lift a hand against you, but keep an eye on that boy of yours. If I get hold of him, I will make him a second Black Bill.'
"That was all the outlaw said, but it was enough to frighten father more than any physical danger would have done; and, as for myself, I might as well have been sent to the State's prison at once, for I could scarcely have been more closely confined there than I was at home. Several attempts to steal me were frustrated by the vigilance of my father, who, becoming weary at last of living in constant fear of losing me, sold out his claim in the mines, and removing to this wild region, erected the house in which we lived until last night, and began business as a fur-trader. It was there he made the acquaintance of Capt. Porter. No sooner had we become fairly settled in our new home, than Black Bill made his appearance; and, although he has occasionally been off on trapping expeditions, he has spent the most of his time for the last ten years in hanging around the valley, watching his opportunity to capture me. He never succeeded, however, until last night; and, as good luck would have it, he was not destined to keep me long."
"O, I haint done with you yet!" exclaimed the outlaw, who had listened attentively to the story. "You're free now, an' I'm a pris'ner; but it won't be so long. I've got plenty of friends roamin' about among these mountains."
"You have found out by this time that the boy you captured last night was not Adam Brent, haven't you?" said Frank. "Where is he now?"
"Who—that spunky little feller? The last time I seed him the Black Fox was marchin' him off to the woods."
"Who's the Black Fox?"
"I should think you had oughter know him purty well by this time. He's the feller you run that race with. I told him that if he would take good care of that boy, an' not let him get away, I would make him a present of that leetle gray hoss of mine."
"That little gray horse doesn't belong to you, as it happens," said Frank. "He's mine."
"I'd like to see you get him. One of my mates, Jack Bowles, has got him safe."
"Well, if I had my other horse——"
Frank was about to say that if he had Roderick, and could catch Jack Bowles out on clear ground, he would show him that he hadn't got Pete quite so safe as he imagined; but he stopped when he reflected that the mustang was a good many miles away, and in the hands of the savages, and that possibly he might never see him again.
"I know where your other horse is," said Adam. "He is in the possession of Dick Lewis. You see, when the trappers learned that Dick had been captured, they went up and attacked the Indian camp, in the hope that during the confusion he might see a chance to get away. That was, probably, the time that Roderick escaped. At any rate, when the trappers returned to the fort, the mustang came with them, and Dick took care of him."
"That's all right," said Frank. "I knew the Indians would never catch Dick. Did you see Bob Kelly?"
"Yes; he was alive and yelling when we cut our way out of the fort."
"I have just thought of something," said Frank, turning to the outlaw. "You said you gave Archie into the keeping of the Black Fox. I met the Fox about three miles back in the mountains, and had a fight with him. What was he doing so far from camp?"
"I don't know," replied the outlaw, looking thoughtfully at the ground. "Mebbe the leetle feller got away from him."
"That's just my idea. Archie escaped, and he was in pursuit of him. If the Fox knows when he is well off, he will get help before he tries to capture him, for Archie is plucky and strong, if he is little. But, Adam, you were going to tell me what happened at the fort."
"There isn't much to tell," was the reply. "The Indians whipped us, and they were not more than an hour in doing it. The trappers, as I told you, left the fort and made an attack on the village, for the purpose of liberating Dick Lewis. Of course, they did not expect to whip the Indians in a fair fight; all they wanted to do was to throw the camp into confusion, and give Dick a chance to do something for himself. But he had already escaped, and about fifteen minutes after the trappers left, he came into the fort, puffing and blowing like a porpoise. The trappers were more successful than they expected to be. Finding the village nearly deserted, they set it on fire, kept up a running fight with the Indians for ten miles; and sixteen out of nineteen returned to the fort in safety. The Indians, in the meantime, must have received reinforcements from somewhere, for they followed close at the trappers' heels; and no sooner had the gates been closed than the fight began.
"You learned something about Indians when they made the attack on your wagon-train, while you were coming across the plains; but you have never been in a regular battle with them, and you can have but a poor idea of the state of affairs in and about that fort during the short time the fight continued. They began operations by setting fire to our house and barns. The fire lighted up the whole valley; and I shall never forget how I felt when I looked over the top of the palisades and saw the savages coming toward us. I had never seen so many Indians before. There must have been a thousand of them; and the determination with which they made and carried on their attack, proved that they had great confidence in their overwhelming numbers, and that they expected an easy victory. They did not waste time in skulking behind trees and shooting at the fort—they came on in a body, like soldiers, approaching so close to the palisades that we could touch them with the muzzles of our guns as we thrust them through the loop-holes. They expected, no doubt, to find the fort in the same defenseless state in which they had seen it in the morning—with the gates gone and the walls broken down; but in this they were disappointed. The major had paid some attention to Captain Porter's warning, and the old trading-post was as strong as it had ever been. That was a fortunate thing for us, for, even as it was, it was all we could do to prevent the savages from affecting an entrance. They fought like tigers, climbing up to the top of the wall and throwing their tomahawks down at the soldiers, and even tearing out the palisades in some places; and I saw more than one Indian cut down with sabers inside the fort. The assault did not continue more than five or ten minutes—of course it seemed much longer to me—and then one of the chiefs set up a yell, and the savages fell back to the cover of the woods to devise some new plan of attack; while we improved the time to repair the damage they had done. I saywe, because I count myself in as one of the defenders of the fort. My bullets went as swift and as straight to the mark as anybody's. I had a good rifle and a brace of revolvers; and, although I was excited and frightened, as I believe any other boy would have been under the same circumstances, I was not foolish enough to waste my ammunition, and did not shoot unless a fair mark was presented. I know I hit one Indian, and saved a soldier's life; but I haven't come to that yet.
"If you had been in the fort, I don't think you would have failed to take particular notice of Dick Lewis and Bob Kelly. All the trappers seemed to be in their element—I don't believe there was one among them who experienced any more fear than you and I would if we were defending a snow fort against the attacks of our schoolmates—but Dick and Bob were as wild as any of the Indians. Such yells I never before heard uttered by white men. If there was one place in the fort more dangerous than another, those two trappers were sure to be there. On one occasion, when the Indians had cut down a portion of the palisades, and the soldiers were doing some desperate hand-to-hand fighting to keep them from entering through the opening, Dick seized one of the savages, and, whirling him clear over his head, threw him back into the fort, calling out: 'Ketch him, somebody!' Three or four soldiers sprang upon him at once, and before they had time to bind him, Dick threw them another. When the savages had been driven back, and the soldiers were repairing the palisades, the major took occasion to thank the trappers, and especially Dick and Bob, for what they had done. The former listened attentively to what he had to say, and then drew himself up and gave the major a regular military salute.
"'Fightin' comes as nateral to me as eatin',' said he. 'Me an' my chum, poor ole Bill Lawson, fit all through the Mexikin war; an' as fur Injuns, I've been in a heap of skrimmages with 'em, fust an' last. But we'll have to do wusser fightin' nor that afore we are done with 'em, major. They're goin' to begin their tricks, now.'
"The trapper had scarcely uttered these words, when a chorus of savage yells arose on all sides of us, and bullets and arrows began to come into the fort like hail-stones. A new danger threatened us now, for some of the arrows had bunches of burning leaves and pine-knots attached to them. They came over the walls in a perfect shower, some falling on the stables, some on the quarters, and in less than a minute the fort was on fire in a dozen different places.
"'Shovels!' shouted Captain Porter. 'All my men turn to and throw dirt on the fire!'
"But the savages were prepared for this. A number of them had climbed into the trees surrounding the fort, from which they could see all that was going on inside the palisades; and no sooner did the trappers fall to work in obedience to the captain's order, than a storm of bullets fell among them, sending more than one poor fellow to eternity.
"For the next half hour we had a serious time of it; but I believe the trappers would have succeeded in frustrating the designs of the savages, had it not been for the reckless bravery of a young chief, who, in some mysterious way, succeeded in entering the fort unobserved. How he managed to elude the vigilance of the soldiers, who were watching the loop-holes while the trappers were engaged in fighting the fire, I can not tell; but, at any rate, he got in, went into the officers' quarters, and after piling a quantity of clothing in one corner, set it on fire. I was standing at one of the loop-holes, watching a chance for a shot at a warrior who was concealed in the top of a tree about fifty yards from the fort, when I heard a yell, and, turning quickly, saw a soldier struggling on the ground, and an Indian standing over him with his tomahawk raised to strike. I was not quick enough to prevent the weapon from descending, but I destroyed the Indian's aim by sending a ball into his shoulder. The hatchet grazed the soldier's head, and his enemy fell into the arms of a trapper, who bound him hand and foot before he could wink twice.
"If the trapper had known what the Indian had been doing, I do not think he would have taken him prisoner. He believed that the savage had just entered the fort, and that he had not had time to do any mischief; but he soon discovered his mistake, for when somebody opened the door of the officers' quarters, a thick volume of smoke rushed out. The trappers were ordered to the spot immediately, but it was too late. The fire had made rapid headway, and the inside of the building was a sheet of flames. It quickly spread to the stables adjoining the quarters, thence to the palisades, and almost before we knew it we were surrounded by a wall of fire.
"'The jig's up at last, youngster,' said Dick, as he hurried past me. 'Shovels aint no more account. We've got to trust to our hosses' legs now!'
"I don't believe I was ever before so badly frightened as I was when I heard these words. My situation then was bad enough, surrounded as I was by burning houses, almost suffocated by smoke, while bullets and flaming arrows were whistling through the air, carrying death and destruction on all sides of me; but to leave the shelter of those walls, and ride out of the fort under the very noses of a thousand yelling Indians, with nothing but the speed of my horse to stand between me and their fury—I tell you, Frank, the bare thought was enough to make my old fur cap rise on my head as it had never done before. While I was standing inactive, the soldiers had sprung into their saddles, and with drawn sabers in one hand, and revolvers in the other, were awaiting the order to cut their way out of the fort. Father and Captain Porter had secured my horse, and were looking for me. I had barely time to mount before the gate flew open, the bugle sounded a charge, and we swept out of the fort into the midst of the savages."
"I have been in more than one fight with the Indians," continued Adam, "and have heard their yells more times than I can remember; but I never heard any that equaled those which rung in my ears when the savages saw us coming out of the fort. At the moment the gate opened they were preparing for a second assault, and we must have taken them by surprise, for they scattered right and left before us like a flock of turkeys. But they did not forget the weapons they held in their hands, and, as we dashed through their lines, the bullets and arrows whistled about our ears thicker than ever. Before we had gone fifty yards from the gate, I saw riderless horses on all sides of me.
"Our party did not keep together long. Pursuit was commenced on the instant, and presently Indians, soldiers, and trappers were mixed up in the greatest confusion, so that I could scarcely distinguish a friend from a foe. Picture to yourself the scene: A desperate hand-to-hand contest among mounted men—the horses thundering along at the top of their speed, their riders too intent upon fighting to know or care where they were going; sabers, tomahawks, and spears flashing in the air, and emitting sparks of fire as they clashed together; rifles and revolvers cracking right and left, their reports sounding faintly above the noise of the horses' hoofs, and the whoops and yells of the combatants;—if you can imagine such a scene, you can have a faint idea of the running fight we carried on with those savages while we were going through the valley. As for myself, I confess that I took but little part in it, I was so badly frightened. I emptied both my revolvers before we were fairly out of the gate, and then clung to the horn of my saddle, and gazed about me in a sort of stupid bewilderment, while my horse galloped along with the rest. I seemed to be in a sort of trance; and when I came to myself I found that I had become separated from my father and Captain Porter, and that they were nowhere to be seen. I was almost alone. My horse, frightened by the noise and confusion, had left the others, and was going toward the mountains at a rate of speed I had never supposed him capable of. I saw that he was running away with me, but I did not care for that. If he would only take me out of reach of the Indians, and carry me to the willows, where I could conceal myself until daylight, he might run and welcome. I did not try to stop him, but somebody else did. I heard the report of a rifle close behind me, my horse fell dead in his tracks, and I went rolling along the ground like a ball from a bat. I was badly hurt, and stunned by the fall, but still I retained my senses sufficiently to see that the enemy who had unhorsed me so suddenly was an Indian, and that he was approaching to finish the work he had begun. He came on at a gallop, holding in his hand a spear which was pointed straight at my breast. I gave myself up for lost; but when the spear was so close to me that I could have touched it, the Indian fell forward in his saddle (he was tied fast to it, so that he could not fall to the ground), the spear dropped from his grasp, and his horse carried him away, dead. Where the bullet that saved my life came from, I could not tell. It may have been a spent ball; or some friend may have seen my danger, and discharged his rifle at the Indian; but that was a matter I could not stop to inquire into. I jumped to my feet, and made the best of my way toward the willows, but had not gone far before I found that I had other enemies to contend with. I heard a shout, and saw a trapper running toward me. I stopped when I discovered him, for I thought he was one of those belonging to Captain Porter's expedition, and consequently a friend; but when he came within reach of me I found out my mistake. He seized me by the collar, and greeted me with:
"'Who are you, boy? What's your name?'
"'I am Adam Brent,' I replied, astonished at his tone and manner.
"'Then you're jest the chap I've been a lookin' fur,' said he; and before I could tell what he was going to do, he caught me up in his arms as if I had been a child, and plunged into the willows. I did not struggle nor shout for help, nor do I believe I even trembled when, after carrying me perhaps half a mile into the woods, he put me down on a log, and, seating himself beside me, coolly announced that he was Black Bill, and that, having got hold of me at last, it was his determination to hold fast to me.
"'I've been many a long year tryin' to get you,' said he, with savage satisfaction, 'an' now I'm goin' to make a second Black Bill of you. I made that promise to your father more'n twelve year ago, an' I haint forgot it. When I see you as I have been—hunted through the mountains like a wild beast, an' shot at by every white feller who crosses your trail, then I'll be satisfied.'
"I had lived in fear of this man from my earliest boyhood, and had more than once tried to imagine the terror I should experience if I should ever be so unfortunate as to fall into his power; but now that I was his prisoner, I was not at all afraid of him. If your cousin, whom he captured last night by mistake, had been safe among friends, I should have felt no uneasiness; but, perhaps, after all, it was a good thing for Archie that Black Bill carried him to the Indian camp, for if he had been at the fort during the fight, he might not have been as fortunate as I was. A good many of our people were cut down, and I don't suppose that more than a dozen escaped.
"After thinking over my situation, I made up my mind that fate had destined me to a long captivity among the Indians, in company with this outlaw, and that I would endure it with what fortitude I could. Sometimes, when I thought of the scenes I had witnessed during that hand-to-hand fight, and reflected upon my father's chances for escape, I did not care what became of me. Black Bill said I would never see him again, and I believed him; and told myself that, if I must live without my father, I might as well be among savages as anywhere else. But I think differently, now that you have rescued me. I hope to be a man some day, and when that time comes, such fellows as Black Bill and his mates, who are constantly spreading dissatisfaction among the Indians, and urging them on to the war-trail, will have good cause to remember me. To whom are you making signals?" continued Adam, suddenly raising himself on his elbow, and looking earnestly at the outlaw.
Frank had been so intent upon his breakfast, and so deeply interested in his friend's story, that he had not thought of keeping a lookout for enemies; consequently he did not see the figure clad in buckskin, which crept stealthily through the trees on the opposite side of the brook, and took up a position behind a huge bowlder, from which a good view of the camp could be obtained. But the figure was there, and it was that of an outlaw—one of Black Bill's mates. His eyes, which swept rapidly over the camp, were open to their widest extent, and on his face, as he raised it cautiously above the bowlder, was an expression of great astonishment. Black Bill saw him, if the boys did not; and, by turning partly around and showing his confined hands, and by nodding his head, and winking his eyes, and making other mysterious signs, he must have succeeded in making the spy understand the situation, for he disappeared behind the bowlder, and stole back into the woods.
"You were making signals to somebody," exclaimed Adam, catching up the outlaw's rifle, and casting suspicious glances through the trees around him.
"Makin' signals to the air, then," replied Black Bill, sullenly. "Thar aint nobody within miles of here that I knows on."
But Adam had lived too long on the frontier, and knew too much about the outlaw to be easily deceived. He had distinctly seen the prisoner nodding his head, and with the quick instinct of one who had passed his life surrounded with foes of every sort, he scented danger. Frank might have been satisfied with Black Bill's reply, and the innocent, surprised expression on his face, but Adam was not. He jumped to his feet, and running across the brook, looked up at the top of the cliffs under which they had been sitting. As he did so, he passed behind the bowlder where the spy had been concealed but a moment before, and there he stopped, and leaning carelessly upon the rock, said, in a whisper to Frank, who had followed close at his heels:
"Don't exhibit any surprise, but look down at those leaves. Somebody has been here."
Frank looked, but could see nothing suspicious. Adam's trained eye, as keen as an Indian's, had, at a single glance, discovered signs of an enemy that Frank could not have found after an hour's careful search.
"I may have passed behind this rock when I first came to the brook," said he.
"If you did you never left those tracks," said Adam. "They were made by moccasins; and you've got shoes on. They were made by a white man, too, for the toes point out. If it had been an Indian, the toes would point in. A friend of Black Bill's was here not more than two minutes ago; and the sooner we get away from here the better it will be for us. What shall we do with our prisoner?"
"Let's take him with us, and compel him to show us the way to Fort Benton," replied Frank, astonished at his friend's skill in wood-craft, and at the coolness and deliberation with which he spoke.
"That would never do," said Adam, quickly. "His friends will be after us in less than five minutes, and he would shout to guide them in the pursuit. Besides, we are completely lost, and how could we tell whether or not he was guiding us to the fort? He would take us as straight to the Indian camp as he could go."
"Well, if we leave him here he will call for help the minute we are out of sight."
"Perhaps he will not be able to call for help by the time we are done with him. I'll tell you what we will do," continued Adam, glancing toward the outlaw, who still sat on the ground, closely watching all their movements, "do you get behind him, throw your arm around his neck, and choke him with all your power; and I'll cram my handkerchief into his mouth. Then catch him by the shoulders, and drag him to that sapling and tie him there; and while you are doing that, I will secure his knife and tomahawk, and also his powder-horn and bullet-pouch. After that we'll take to our heels, and do some of the best running we ever did in our lives. There's not a single instant to be lost. Don't flinch, now."
Adam knew that Frank was a remarkably swift runner, an excellent wrestler, and a splendid shot with the rifle; but he had never seen him in a situation like this, and he did not know how cool and determined he could be. If he had, he would not have talked to him about "flinching."
"Wal," exclaimed the outlaw, as the boys sprang across the brook, "seen any thing wuth lookin' at? Didn't diskiver none of my mates hangin' around in the bushes, did you?"
"We saw all we wanted to see," replied Adam. "We saw foot-prints behind that bowlder, and we know who made them. That's the way to do it! Choke him till he opens his mouth."
While Adam was occupying the outlaw's attention, Frank had stepped behind him, and thrown his arm around his neck. He struggled and tried to shout for help; but the strong grasp on his throat rendered him powerless, and effectually stifled his cries. His under jaw dropped down, and the handkerchief which Adam held ready in his hand, was forced into his mouth. A moment afterward Black Bill was lying flat on his back, held down by Frank's handkerchief, which was passed around his neck and tied to the sapling of which Adam had spoken, and the boys, having possessed themselves of their weapons, and the outlaw's ammunition, were scrambling up the cliff like a couple of goats. They looked back now and then to satisfy themselves that their prisoner was still secure, and both told themselves that if they should be so unfortunate as to again fall into his power, their treatment would be very different from that which they had already received at his hands. Black Bill seemed almost beside himself with rage. He glared up at them like a madman, and made the most desperate attempts to free himself from his bonds; but the boys, although they had done their work quickly, had done it well, and as long as they remained in sight of the outlaw, he had accomplished nothing toward liberating himself.
Arriving at the top of the cliff, Adam shouldered his rifle, and sprang forward at the top of his speed, closely followed by Frank, who stepped as nearly as possible in his tracks. For nearly half an hour they flew along without speaking, turning their heads occasionally to listen for sounds of pursuit, making use of all their skill to render their trail as indistinct as possible, and finally they slackened their pace to a rapid walk, which they kept up for two hours longer without once stopping to rest. At the end of that time, Frank, being satisfied that they were out of danger for the present, proposed "half an hour for refreshments." The half hour was really not more than ten minutes, for the boys were so much afraid of the enemies who they knew were following them, that they regarded every instant spent in needful repose as so much time wasted. Their refreshments consisted of just nothing at all—not even a drop of water to cool their lips. They could not stop to cook a dinner, even if they had had any thing to cook; and after a very short rest, during which they talked over their situation, and tried to determine upon their plans for the future, they sprang up, and resumed their flight, Adam, as before, leading the way.
The outlaw had told his nephew that Fort Benton, which was the nearest trading-post, and the place to which all the trappers and soldiers who escaped the massacre would be likely to direct their course, was a hundred miles distant; and the boys had decided, after much debate, that it lay nearly due east of Fort Stockton. A hundred miles from the nearest place of refuge, in the heart of an unbroken wilderness, every step of the way they must travel beset with dangers, and their path waylaid by crafty foes who might spring out on them without an instant's warning! Twenty miles of mountains and ravines to be passed over, and eighty miles more of prairie, where there was not even a thicket of bushes to afford them concealment from their enemies, to be traversed on foot! Would they ever succeed in reaching the fort?
"It looks like a slim chance, doesn't it?" said Adam, who easily read the thoughts that were passing through Frank's mind. "But father used to tell me that a fellow never knows how much he can accomplish until he tries. We will do the best we can, and if we fail we shall have the satisfaction of knowing that it isn't our fault."
Frank's endurance was severely tested that day. He found that traveling through the mountains on foot was something besides a holiday pastime, especially with such a guide as Adam, who moved along without any apparent effort, threading his way through the thick, tangled bushes with a celerity that was surprising. The afternoon wore slowly away, and just as the sun was sinking out of sight behind the mountains, the boys, weary and footsore, halted in the edge of the willows, and looked out over the prairie which stretched away before them as far as their eyes could reach. Adam stood for a long time with his chin resting on the muzzle of his rifle, and his gaze fixed upon the horizon, thinking of his father and Captain Porter, and wondering if he should meet them if he succeeded in reaching the fort; while Frank, after satisfying himself that there were no Indians in sight, became interested in objects in his immediate vicinity. He thought the place looked familiar. There was a wide, shallow creek flowing through the ravine in which they were standing, and on its left bank arose a rocky cliff, which hung over the bed of the stream. Under the branches of a spreading oak which grew near the foot of the cliff, were the remains of a camp-fire; and a little farther on was a sapling which had been stripped of its bark. Frank remembered that sapling. It was the one to which Roderick had been tied when the trappers first brought him into camp. The horse was wild and vicious then, and after trying in vain to break the lasso with which he was confined, he had attacked the tree with his teeth, and peeled off the bark as neatly as it could have been done with a knife.
"We have accomplished the hardest part of our journey," said Adam, his gaze still wandering over the prairie in the direction he supposed the trading-post to be, "and now comes the dangerous part. If what father said about a general rising of the Indians was correct, the savages are scattered all over the plains between here and the fort; and if we get through, it will be more by good luck than good management. Do you see any thing?"
"Yes, I do," said Frank; "I see plenty of old friends. I know every stick of timber about here, for I passed three of the pleasantest weeks of my life in this very ravine. You have heard Dick and Bob speak of the Old Bear's Hole, haven't you? Come with me, and I will show it to you."
Frank crossed the creek and began pulling aside the bushes at the base of the cliff, searching for the entrance to the cave. Dick had told him that more than one sharp-eyed Comanche had looked for it in vain, and for a long time Frank thought he should meet with no better success; but at last he discovered the entrance by stepping into it accidentally. The mouth of the passage was filled with leaves, which had effectually concealed it from his view.
"The cave must be a mile or two below, isn't it?" asked Adam, gazing dubiously at the dark opening.
"No; it is above ground altogether, and is inside this rock," replied Frank, pointing to the cliff. "But the question is, Shall we use it, now that we have found it? Do you suppose that Black Bill and his friends are in pursuit of us?"
"Of course they are. They won't give us up so easily."
"But we have taken a great deal of pains to conceal our trail, and they may not be able to follow it."
"Don't you believe it," replied Adam, with a laugh. "Those men's eyes are as sharp as a hound's nose. If they can track an Indian when he is doing his best to cover up his trail, they can surely follow us. We are not done with them yet."
"Then I propose that we sleep in the Old Bear's Hole. I can't travel any farther to-night, and I should feel much safer in the cave than I should if we camped in the open air. We can't get along without some supper, and we must have a fire to cook it; and that might attract the attention of the outlaws if they should happen to be in the neighborhood."
The matter was settled without any further debate, and the boys began to busy themselves in collecting a supply of pine-knots to serve as torches. This done, Adam lighted one of them with his flint and steel, and handed it to Frank, who backed down into the opening; but, to his friend's surprise, he came out of it again much more quickly than he had gone in.
"I have just thought of something," said he, in reply to Adam's inquiring look. "The first night we camped here, while we were on our way to California, Dick Lewis went into the cave and found that a grizzly bear had taken possession of it. He had a terrible fight with the animal, and was so badly clawed up that his most intimate friend would not have recognized him. There may be a bear in there now for all we know."
"That's so," said Adam. "Must we give up the idea of sleeping in the cave?"
"Not yet. Dick and Bob, who spent many a day here hiding from the Indians, were old foxes, and had two holes to their burrow. Come with me, and I will show you the other."
Frank led the way to the top of the cliff, and, after a short search, discovered the entrance to the upper passage-way. He was not greatly encouraged when he found it, for he saw that a path, hard and well beaten as any road, led from it down the side of the cliff. Then he blessed his lucky stars that he had not gone into the cave. It had an occupant, the character of which was proved by the bones that lay scattered about on both sides of the path. It was some ravenous beast of prey, which probably would not feel disposed to abandon his snug quarters without a fight. Adam kneeled down beside the passage-way, and, after a single glance into the cave, sprang up and threw his rifle forward in readiness to shoot. Frank looked in and saw a pair of eyes, which shone like coals of fire, glaring at him through the darkness.
"It isn't a grizzly," said Adam, "but something almost as bad. It's a panther. He must come out of there, too," he added, pulling off his hat and digging his fingers into his head to stir up his ideas. "That cave is the only safe place we can find, and we must have it, whether he is willing or not."
"Hand me your rifle," said Frank; "I'll fix him."
"Not for the world," replied Adam, quickly. "You must remember that we have enemies not a great way off, and that it stands us well in hand to be quiet about what we do. Besides, there may be a whole family of panthers in there, and if you should wound one of them, we'd have a fight on our hands directly. I know how to manage him. Take this rifle and climb up into that tree, and when he comes out tell me."
Frank did as his companion requested. He mounted into the topmost branches of the tree, and, after settling himself into a comfortable position, from which he could watch the mouth of the passage-way, he turned to observe Adam's movements. He saw him, with a long stick in his hand, kneeling before the opening at the foot of the cliff, engaged in pushing a quantity of dried leaves and pine-knots into the passage-way. Then his plan was clear enough to Frank: he was going to smoke the panther out.
Adam worked steadily for half an hour, and then Frank, seeing him take his flint and steel from his pocket, turned his attention to the passage-way at the top of the hill. There was draught sufficient to make the fire burn well, and presently Frank heard a great roaring and crackling in the cave, and a thin wreath of smoke came curling out. With the smoke came the panther, which was evidently very much alarmed by this unexpected assault upon his home, for he flew down the path like a flash of light, and speedily disappeared in the bushes. Adam's plan had worked to perfection. The Old Bear's Hole had been cleared of its dangerous occupant, and the boys were at liberty to take possession of it.