He led the way to the further extremity of the cavern, and halted before the solid wall.
At his feet were a number of small stones, one of which he took in his hand and struck the wall before him three times.
The astonishment of the scout and his friends can not be imagined as they saw the rock slowly recede before them and swing noiselessly back. They followed their leader through the aperture, the huge rock swung back to its former position, and they discovered a room nearly twice as large as the one they had just left.
At one side a brisk fire was burning, and over this an old negro woman was cooking a savory venison ham. Piles of fur were lying around, indicating that their host was a trapper.
"Here we ar'," said the old man; "an' here I have lived fur nigh onto ten year. Thar's wood enuf an' pervison enuf ter stan' a ten year siege, an' now ef ye'll jes' tell me what the trouble ar' an' all about it then mebby I kin tell yer what ter do."
Thereupon Kelly proceeded to relate all that had transpired up to this time; and there we must leave them for awhile and look after the fortunes of others.
After Jehiel had gained a position to suit him, his first endeavor was to let Snowdrop know that he was there, and to make her aware of his intentions.
But the question then arose how this was to be accomplished.
Like nearly all border men, Jehiel could imitate perfectly the beasts of the field and the birds of the air, and he now resolved to make good use of the power he possessed to attract her attention.
The whirring sound made by the sudden swoop of the night-hawk fell upon the air, but no notice was made of it.
He was within short pistol-shot of the Indians; indeed he could smell the savory steaks as they were broiling upon the coals, and he knew that a discovery would result in instant death, and the fact affected him in any thing but a pleasant manner.
Then he chirped like a wren, but no more attention was paid to that than to the whir of the night-hawk.
This was followed by the dulltoo-hootof an owl, and the long, mocking note of the cat-bird.
They were all too common sounds. Neither the Indians nor Snowdrop paid the least attention to what they had been accustomed to hear every day and night of their lives.
Jehiel now gave a good imitation of the crow, and as the ringingcaw, caw, sounded through the forest, the Indians merely looked up at the clouds to see if there were any indications of rain, and proceeded with their meal.
Jehiel did not despair, even though his efforts thus far had failed to attract the attention of the Indian maiden.
"Thunder!" he muttered, "where is the use in whistling when she won't even look up!"
Reaching up among the foliage his hand came in contact with a bunch of acorns, one of which he pulled off, and parting the leaves in front of him, he threw the acorn at Snowdrop. It hit her upon the hand, and startled her from her gloomy reverie. She looked up at the tree above her head, and not in the direction of the scout, but not seeing any thing, she concluded that the wind had likely dislodged the acorn, and again bent her head in contemplation.
Again Jehiel threw an acorn, and again she looked up and around, and at last her eyes rested upon the opening in the foliage of the huge oak opposite where she sat. She suppressed the cry of surprise which rose to her lips, and Jehiel noticed that the Indians did not pause in their work; so he made the opening larger.
Snowdrop was now looking attentively at him—her form was motionless—not a feature relaxed, but the glad look in her eyes told Jehiel that he was at last seen and recognized.
He bent down his head and placed it in the palm of his hand, then put his fingers on his eyes. This was to signify that he would come and help her when the Indians were asleep.
She answered him in precisely the same way, then made a quick motion with her hand toward the two Indians, as if to tell him that she fully understood him.
Jehiel then held up two fingers of one hand and made an undulating motion with them, to signify that he had horses, and that they would ride away after the Indians were asleep; and then drew back to the body of the tree to watch and wait.
He now endeavored to familiarize himself with the surroundings, so that he would have no trouble in getting away if he succeeded in releasing Snowdrop. He did not wish to kill the Pawnees if he could possibly help it, and thought more of outwitting them, but he had resolved to shoot them both rather than be defeated in his plans. He knew, too, that there were no better trailers in the world than the Pawnees.
Snowdrop was as calm and stoical as if she had been at home among her own people, and gave no sign which might arouse the suspicions of her guard, and Jehiel felt like cheering her for her bravery.
"Ginger! but she's jest the gayest little squaw on earth, and there ain't a Yankee gal living could take things as cool as she does. She's as sweet as they make 'em—sheis!"
By this time the Pawnees had finished their cooking, and one of them brought a large slice of meat to Snowdrop, who immediately commenced eating.
After she had finished the slice they asked her if she wanted more, to which she shook her head and placed her fingers upon her eyes, giving them to understand that she was sleepy. They immediately piled a lot of blankets near the fire, and untied her ankles, so that she could walk about and lie down.
It seemed a long time to Jehiel before the Indians became sleepy, but, after smoking and talking a long time, they gave up, and rolling themselves in their blankets, were soon asleep. They took the precaution, however, of tying a strip of leather about one of Snowdrop's wrists, and to their own, so that she could not move her hand without disturbing them.
Jehiel remained in the tree until he became satisfied, from the loud snoring, that the Pawnees were sound asleep; then he descended, and in a moment had cut the thongs which bound the Indian girl; and then, taking a large piece of meat from before the fire, they silently departed. Though Jehiel was very hungry, having fasted for thirty-six hours, he had no disposition to eat until he had put a safe distance between him and the Pawnees.
"Come on, little gal, and come jest as still as you can," he whispered.
A gentle pressure of his hand was the only reply, and they went on.
After going several rods, Jehiel halted to decide whether he should still further insult the Indians by going back and turning their horses loose, but a few whispered words decided in the negative.
So, closely followed by Snowdrop, he walked along to where he had left his own horse.
The faithful animal stood where he had been left, and Jehiel led him out to where he had secreted the horse of Snowdrop, and they were soon mounted. Then he took the route to the open plain, having decided to push on with Snowdrop to the village of the Blackfeet.
It was not until they were out of the forest that Jehiel spoke a loud word, but now he felt that he was out of danger, and he said:
"Little gal, you had a purty hard time on't, didn't you?"
"Yes," replied Snowdrop. "Did White Panther send you after me?"
"Wa-al, he said I could come if I wanted to, and I felt as if my heart would bu'st if I didn't, so I come."
"The Long Hunter has a good heart to take Snowdrop from the hands of the Pawnee," said the Indian girl.
"Thunder! was them Pawnees?"
"Yes," answered Snowdrop, "and their chief, White Wolf, said he was going to keep me for his squaw. But I would have killed him first."
"Bully for you—you are the rummiest little chick in America! Did you ever—that is—ahem! you didn't love him much, I reckon?"
"No. I love your friend, the White Panther, and will behiswife."
"Lord! that can't be, for White Panther, as you call him, has got a wife already," said Jehiel.
"I do not care. He is a good hunter and can feed more wives than one."
"But, gal, you don't understand. Us white folks has a law which won't allow a feller to have more than one wife at a time."
"Then that law is no good," replied Snowdrop. "Suppose there are two women and only one man—must one woman go without?"
Jehiel was getting a little mixed in his love-making, but he replied:
"In course she must! But just suppose there is one woman and two men, must one man be without a wife?"
This was a question that Snowdrop was not prepared to answer. But she said:
"I am notwhite. I love the White Panther and I do not care how many wives he has got, so long as I am the last one, and he loves me best!"
"You will be disappointed, my gal," was all that Jehiel could say.
Riding a little way further they came to a clump of timber, and here Jehiel resolved to stop a while and eat the meat which they had brought with them from the Indian camp.
Accordingly they dismounted, the horses at once went to feeding, and they proceeded to build a fire and cook the meat. Jehiel had not been bashful in helping himself to a large piece, and the fact that it rapidly disappeared after being roasted, was sufficient evidence that it was good. Besides, they were hungry, as an Indian or a frontiersman always is.
They had not finished eating, when Jehiel noticed that his horse had stopped eating, and was looking in the direction from which they had come.
"There comes them cussed Pawnees, not a mile away," he said. "We must get out of here, or shed blood."
The next moment they were mounted and speeding away over the plain, satisfied from the yells of the savages who were in pursuit, that they had been already discovered. Placing one of his revolvers in the hand of Snowdrop, he said:
"If we must, we must, I suppose; but I don't want to. You ride on ahead, and I will stop here and settle their hash for them!"
The Pawnees were within rifle-shot, and were fast gaining upon the scout and Snowdrop, who would not leave him.
On they came—nearer and still nearer—until, in an instant, Snowdrop raised her revolver and fired.
"Gosh! gal, you made a hole clean through that critter. Now I'll fix the other one."
The remaining Pawnee had turned his horse and was leaving as fast as possible, but he could not outrun the bullet from the rifle of the scout; so went on a visit to the happy hunting-grounds sooner than he expected or wished.
Then they turned and again started on, when a sight met them that caused the scout to halt and exclaim:
"Gewhillakens! Look at that!"
Snowdrop looked in the direction in which he pointed and saw as many as two hundred painted warriors but a short distance away, all well-mounted and apparently ready for charge.
Jehiel was in despair, but it was quickly changed to joy by the exclamation of Snowdrop.
"They are Blackfoot braves! My own people, come to look for me!"
She gave a shrill cry, which instantly changed the hostile attitude of the savages, and bidding Jehiel ride close to her, and not be afraid, she rode on to meet the war-party.
The war-party was led by a young warrior, who saluted Snowdrop, and asked:
"Who is this pale-face, and where do you come from?"
"He is the Long Hunter—the friend of White Panther. I was in the hands of the Pawnees, and he got me away," replied the girl.
"Where is the chief, Gray Eagle?"
"The Sioux have got him. I was going to the village of my people for warriors to help White Panther get him away. White Panther stayed to watch the Sioux, and keep them from burning my father."
"There are enough Blackfeet here to save your father without any help from an accursed pale-face!" exclaimed the warrior.
Snowdrop made no reply, though the flashing of her eyes betrayed the fact that the young chief was treading on dangerous ground. They continued in conversation a few minutes longer, when they were interrupted by an exclamation from Jehiel.
"Gracious airth! Jest look at that! There come the Sioux! What does it mean?"
Then Snowdrop observed them, and she saw what the scout did not, that the approaching party was led by her father.
But where was Lew Kelly?
The warriors sent out by Red Pine to capture Snowdrop had not returned to the Sioux camp, neither had those sent after the brave scout and his companion, whom he had rescued from torture; and, as might naturally be expected, the Sioux chief was getting very anxious about them.
He did not dream that every one of both parties were dead, for he had not been present to see the scout and Jehiel shoot down the five who went after them, nor did he know that those who had gone in pursuit of Snowdrop had met the party of Pawnees who had captured her, and had all been sent on a pilgrimage to the other world.
Had he known this, his anxiety would have been still greater. He seemed destined to misfortunes and disappointments at every turn, and now a new disaster had befallen him:
The morning after the rescue of Jehiel he had looked in vain for his other white prisoner, Curtiss. No one could tell where he had gone.
"Who guarded the pale-face?" he demanded.
"It was I," replied a young brave, as he stepped out before his chief.
Without a word the Sioux chief raised his hatchet, and sunk it to the eye in the brain of the warrior, who fell dead at his feet.
An old warrior approached him, and said:
"Nulela, the sister of Red Pine, is gone!"
Somehow or other he could not help connecting the sudden disappearance of his sister with the escape of the white prisoner.
"Did any one see them go?" he asked.
There was no response.
Turning to Gray Eagle, he said:
"Dog of a Blackfoot, do you know any thing of this? Speak quick, before I kill you!"
"The Sioux is very brave when he can kill a man who is hurt and bound," replied Gray Eagle. Then he continued: "I did see the Sioux girl go away with the pale-face captive."
"Which way did they go?" demanded the Red Pine.
"If the Sioux is a great brave, as he pretends to be, he can find their trail. Gray Eagle is glad they are gone!"
Red Pine gave up the task of acquiring any information from the Blackfoot chief, and at once the whole camp were searching for the fugitives. In a short time they found it and followed it to the creek, where it was lost.
Unremittingly they searched, up and down on both sides, but could find no trace after it entered the water, and after searching several hours were obliged to give it up.
Of course Red Pine was very angry when they returned to camp and announced their failure.
And now a new danger beset him.
A scout came in with the intelligence that a large party of strange Indians were approaching. Whether friendly or not, he could not tell.
Red Pine had his warriors all mounted and ready for them, should they be friends or foes. He stationed a warrior beside the old chief, Gray Eagle, with instructions to start for the country of the Sioux, should they be obliged to give battle to the strangers.
The strange Indians were soon in sight, and halted within a hundred yards. Their leader then rode to the middle of the space, and stopping, signified to Red Pine that he wanted to talk with him.
The Sioux chief rode out to meet him, alone and unarmed, as was the stranger. The stranger was the first to break silence, which he did by demanding:
"Who are you?"
"I am Red Pine—"
"A Sioux?" interrupted the first.
"Yes, a chief of the Sioux! Why do you ask?"
"Is the great chief of the Blackfeet with you?"
"Gray Eagle, the Blackfoot chief, is the prisoner of Red Pine," he answered. "But who are you that asks?"
"I am White Wolf, the great chief of the Pawnees, and I want your prisoner!"
The mention of the name, Pawnee, struck a chill to the heart of Red Pine; for it is a fact that nearly all the western Indians stand in wholesome fear of them, and would as soon meet a spirit of evil as a Pawnee. I can not say why this is so, but give it as the facts in the case.
Red Pine saw that the affair was assuming rather a formidable shape, yet he did not feel disposed to give it up so.
"Why does my brother want the Blackfoot chief?" he asked.
"White Wolf has promised to bring him to his daughter, the Snowdrop, then she is to be my wife."
"Does White Wolf know where Snowdrop is now?"
"Yes, she is in the camp of White Wolf, among the hills."
"Did the Pawnee see any of the Sioux warriors when he found her?"
"Yes," replied White Wolf, and he chuckled to himself as he continued, "they will never return to their chief!"
"Why so?" asked Red Pine.
"Because their scalps hang in the belts of my warriors, as yours will soon, if you do not give up the chief, Snowdrop's father!"
Were all the plans of Red Pine to be frustrated in this way, after he had come so far, and been to so much trouble? Were the fond hopes he had entertained when leaving the village of his people to be lost now, when they were so near realization? Must he give up the main object of his mission, and go back without the Blackfoot maiden?
Impossible! He would die first! So he said:
"Gray Eagle is my prisoner, and the Pawnee can not have him!"
Without a word White Wolf turned and rode toward his band, and Red Pine returned to his warriors.
White Wolf was a big, fat, burly Indian, who has since become quite well known on the plains as the meanest beggar of them all; one who will steal a blanket or murder a white man for the sake of a drink of whisky. He has became very much demoralized since the time we first met him, demanding the prisoner of the Sioux chief.
Red Pine is not much better, though much younger. He was never known to do an act of kindness, and was by nature cruel and vindictive. Each were, and still are, a type of their respective tribes.
Neither were disposed to wait very long. Red Pine because he was in haste to have it over, believing that he would be the victor, notwithstanding the foe with whom he had to deal was no common one. White Wolf was in a hurry for the same reasons, and also because he was in haste to secure Snowdrop for a wife, as he had no doubt he would.
Both were destined to learn that disappointment is the lot of mankind.
The battle was commenced by the Pawnees discharging a shower of arrows at the Sioux. Then the Sioux returned the compliment, and thus they continued for nearly an hour, not seeming to make much headway, or to cause any very great slaughter. They did yelling enough, however, for an army of twenty thousand men, and this, by the way, is the manner of Indian fighting generally.
Usually, one party or the other will run before that time, but in this case both of the leaders had too much at stake—both wanted the Blackfoot girl.
The warrior who had been left to guard Gray Eagle had taken his captive and started off at the first round between the opposing forces.
This movement had not escaped the notice of the Pawnee chief, and he immediately started two of his warriors to intercept the Sioux, and recapture Gray Eagle. In this movement they were quite successful; the fact being that the Sioux guard deserted his prisoner as soon as he found himself pursued—believing, no doubt, that discretion was the better part of valor.
His new captors conducted Gray Eagle to a position where he could watch the progress of the battle, then one of them returned to take a part in the, thus far, bloodless war, and to inform his chief, White Wolf, of their success.
Then White Wolf resolved to strike his death-blow, and giving the order to charge, they swept down upon the Sioux, and a hand-to-hand fight ensued.
But it was of short duration, for the Sioux soon broke and fled for their lives.
The Pawnees did not pursue them very far, as they had secured what they came after, and were now ready to return to their camp.
Gray Eagle was not very well pleased when he learned into whose hands he had now fallen, for he, too, dreaded the Pawnees.
White Wolf saluted his prisoner kindly and said:
"I have rescued Gray Eagle from the hands of the Sioux squaws, and when Snowdrop sees him safe she will consent to be the wife of White Wolf."
"Does the chief know where Snowdrop is?" asked the chief.
"In the camp of White Wolf, a day's ride from here," was the reply.
"How came she there?" demanded the old chief.
"White Wolf found her upon the big plain toward the village of the Blackfeet. Let us go."
Gray Eagle knew the utter uselessness of arguing the question with the Pawnee chief, and bowing his head they rode away.
The Pawnees had discovered the party of Blackfeet at the same time that Jehiel had done so, and just now it occurred to White Wolf that he was in rather a disagreeable situation. He saw that the party of Blackfeet outnumbered his party, five to one, and he knew that they were brave warriors and would not run as easily as the Sioux had done.
Gray Eagle was pleased at the turn in affairs, as would naturally be expected; but when he saw that Snowdrop was one of the approaching party, he turned to White Wolf and said:
"Does my brother speak with a forked tongue?"
"No," replied the Pawnee; "who dare say he does?"
"He said that the daughter of Gray Eagle was in the camp of White Wolf, a day's ride from here. Now Gray Eagle sees her there with his people!"
White Wolf did not know what to say. He had left the Blackfoot beauty a prisoner in the hands of two trusty warriors, and for the life of him he could not imagine who had rescued her. He said:
"Shall there be peace between the Pawnee and Blackfeet braves, or shall White Wolf take the scalp of Gray Eagle and go away?"
The old Blackfoot chief saw that there was much to gain and nothing to lose, and he replied:
"There shall be peace." And they again moved on.
The young chief who led the party of Blackfeet accompanied by Snowdrop and Jehiel, now rode forward, leaving the Blackfeet in a body; while Gray Eagle and White Wolf rode out to meet them.
"Has the Blackfoot maiden a sister who looks just like herself?" asked the astonished Pawnee.
"No, Snowdrop has no sister," replied the girl. "I see you thought I was your prisoner. I was, but I did not stay so very long."
"How did you get away?" asked White Wolf.
"I rode away! Your warriors slept too sound, you see."
"Waugh!" was all White Wolf could say. He knew that Snowdrop was merely trying to banter him, and after a moment's reflection, he said:
"The warriors shall die! They are not fit to live if they can not keep one little squaw!"
"No, they will not die!" assented Snowdrop.
The chief looked at her in surprise. He was not in the habit of having squaws contradict his word.
"White Wolf is his own master, and the chief of all the Pawnees! Why does the Blackfoot maiden say they shall not die?"
"Because they are dead already!" answered Snowdrop.
"Dead! Who killed them?"
"I killed one; Long Hunter the other," she replied.
White Wolf glared fiercely at her, as if he could kill her where she sat, but in a few moments the expression changed, and he said:
"I have rescued your father from the hands of the Sioux as I promised; now will Snowdrop go to the home of White Wolf, and be his squaw? She shall have as many slaves as she wants, and there shall be peace between the tribes. What says the queen of the Blackfeet?"
"That she does not love the great chief of the Pawnees, and can never enter his lodge," replied Snowdrop.
"Does she love some one else?"
"Yes, Snowdrop will be the wife of White Panther or marry no one!"
"Who is the White Panther?" asked the chief.
"He is the bravest of pale-faces, and Snowdrop will give her life to him!"
"Tell me where he is, that I may go and kill him. He is a dog!"
Hardly had the words escaped his lips before he received a blow upon the side of his head which knocked him from his horse, and laid him senseless upon the ground.
"There, ye everlastin' skunk!" exclaimed Jehiel, for it was he had administered the blow, "that'll l'arn ye not to be callin' names!"
The Pawnees seized their weapons when they saw their chief go to the ground, but at the motion, the Sioux also put themselves in readiness to repel any attack.
Slowly the Pawnee chief rose to his feet, and for a moment he seemed to be measuring the strength of Jehiel, then his smothered indignation found vent, and he exclaimed:
"The pale-face shall die!"
"Waal, he won't, unless he runs across a smarter red-skin than you are!" exclaimed Jehiel.
"If he is not a coward he will fight the great chief of the Pawnees, and White Wolf will surely kill him!" said the chief.
"Waal, I may be a coward, but I ain't afeard of you nor any other durned Injun in this kentry. An' durn yer skin, I'll fight ye any day and place ye dare to mention!"
"Then we will fight now and here," said the chief.
"Agreed! You'll see fair play, won't you?" he asked of Gray Eagle.
"Yes," replied the chief. "If White Wolf kills my friend, he must do it fairly."
"Bully for you, old feller!" said Jehiel. Then turning to White Wolf, he said:
"Now, ye red sarpent, jes' git off there; an' when the old chief gives the word, we will see who can shoot the best."
"No," replied the Indian, "the gun of the pale-face is better than that of White Wolf. Let us fight with knives."
"Not much, you don't!" exclaimed Jehiel, who was not very skillful in the use of that implement, "not much, you don't. I don't want to dirty my knife—it's the one I use to cut my meat with, and it would go ag'in' my stomach to use it arter I'd cut a dirty Injun to pieces!"
"Then let the chief of the Blackfeet say how the fight shall be," said White Wolf.
"Agreed, ag'in! Crack ahead chief, and any way you say fight, I'll fight!"
"Gray Eagle says, let the fight be with knives and on foot," was the decision of the chief; and although it did not exactly suit Jehiel, he immediately began to strip for the fight.
He was soon naked to the waist, and handing his gun and garments to Snowdrop, he asked her to hold them for him. He was encouraged by a sweet smile from her, and in reply to the whispered, "Kill him if you can," he replied:
"I'll do it, sartin!"
White Wolf then stripped, and he too handed his gun to Snowdrop, but she refused it with scorn. This angered the Pawnee still more, and he exclaimed:
"Wait until I kill the pale-face dog!" and he strode into the circle which had been formed by the two parties pressing forward in their eagerness to see what was going on.
White Wolf was a tall, finely formed Indian, and was well skilled in the use of the knife, so that really, he had the advantage over Jehiel; but what Jehiel lacked in skill and experience, he more than made up in quickness and grit.
They stood within six feet of each other, waiting for Gray Eagle to give the signal to commence.
So it came, and as the two forms met, the gleaming steel told that the battle was begun. Flashing in the sunlight, as the antagonists came together, and then sprung apart, only to renew the conflict without a moment's pause.
Jehiel soon became satisfied that he was in no particular danger from the Pawnee chief, and he laughed to himself as he parried the furious blows of the Indian. But he soon grew tired of this, and pressed hard upon his adversary, who gradually fell back toward the side of the circle occupied by his warriors.
Jehiel anticipated his intentions, and springing past the Pawnee, placed himself between the chief and his warriors.
Then he pressed the Pawnee still harder, and began to nerve himself for the last desperate effort.
By a skillful blow he severed the string by which the knife of the chief was attached to his wrist, and another lightning-like stroke sent the Indian's knife whirling a rod away.
"Now, red-skin, if you hain't satisfied, go and pick up your knife and I'll do it again."
"The pale-face can take the scalp of White Wolf, for he has won it!" replied the chief.
"I don't want yer scalp, ye durned fool, but I guess, seein' it's you, I'll cut it off close to yer head; then, while you're raisin' another one, you can think of the lickin' I've g'in ye."
"White Wolf will not accept life from a pale-face dog!" exclaimed the chief.
Again the sledge-hammer fist of Jehiel came in contact with the head of the Pawnee, and again the chief found himself flat on his back.
"Waal, now, didn't I tell you so?" said Jehiel. "I don't takedogfrom no man, let alone a durned Injun."
Then Jehiel shaved the braided scalp-lock of the Pawnee chief close to his head, after which he returned, and donning his garments, mounted his horse and was ready for the next thing that might turn up.
White Wolf was not slow in following his example, and then withdrew with his warriors, without saying a word to any one.
The party at the cave were enjoying themselves as well as they could under the circumstances.
Kelly was getting anxious about his friend Jehiel, and had resolved that, if he did not make his appearance in the vicinity that day, he would go in search of him next morning.
But he did not know that about that time Jehiel was having his little round with the Pawnee chief—if he had, he would not have rested quite so easily.
Then there was his promise to Gray Eagle, which was only half kept, but which he resolved should be fulfilled to the letter.
Yes, hewouldhave the scalp of the Sioux chief, or die in the attempt to get it.
Nulela, the sister of Red Pine, was indeed happy, and with good reason—the white man whom she had rescued from her brother's power now reciprocated her great love, and she felt herself amply rewarded for the risk she had run and the sacrifice she had made.
Full well she knew that she could not return to her own people, except in disgrace. Such is the moral code of the Sioux—if a maiden of the tribe marries a white man, and he dies, or, as is more generally the case, deserts her, she is thenceforth an outcast.
For a long time after the old trapper had tendered them the hospitalities of his subterranean retreat, they sat beside the fire trying to determine what was best to be done.
"I am afraid that the Sioux will hang around here until they find out some way to get into this cave," said Curtiss.
"Young man," said the old trapper, "it ar' a great pity yer could not hev been born with more brains, an' less stomach!"
"What do you mean, sir?" exclaimed the astonished young man.
"I mean yer must be a durned fool fur bein' afraid, when I've told yer thar ain't a mite o' danger in here!"
Curtiss thought his best plan was to humor the eccentricities of Old Bear-Paw, and it was perhaps well that he did.
"Kem with me, my friends," said the trapper, "an' I'll convince yer we ar' perfeckly safe."
He led the way to the further end of the cave, where the party found themselves standing upon the brink of a fearful chasm, the light from the torches revealing no boundary except that upon which they stood. Below and beyond them, all was inky blackness.
"Gracious, what a place!" said Kelly. "Do you know how deep this hole is, or what is on the other side?"
"Yas. I've bin down inter this 'ar' hole clean ter ther bottom, an' ef yer behave yerselves purty well, I'll take yer down thar with me, one of these days."
"Thank you," replied the scout; "but do you know what is on the other side of here?"
"Sartin, I've bin thar too! Would yer like ter go over? I've got er menagery over thar, as ther show fellers used ter say, uv ther finest livin' speciments on ther contynunt!"
"But how do you get across?—I can't see. Two steps more and down you go, into that bottomless pit. It is not possible that you can walk on air, and there is no way of making a bridge, that I can see."
"Yer see, I ain't lived here ten years fur nothin'—so now I'll show yer how it's done."
He stepped to one side and returned holding in his hand the end of a rope, the other end of which was lost in the darkness above them.
"Now yer see," said the old man, "yer jest hang on ter this yer end, an swing off. Wull, ther swing 'll take yer clear across this yer black hole—then when yer feel yerself comin' back, all yer hev ter do is ter drap yer feet down, an' ye'll find yerself on terry furmy onc't more. Then yer kin throw ther rope back fur ther next feller, ef thar is any more, an' ef thar ain't yer must hang it up on ther peg at ther side—'cause ef yer don't it will hang straight down ther middle arter it gits done swinging. Then thar can't no one git it."
"Yes, I understand. Now, Mr.—"
"Bear-Paw, I told yer, only leave off ther mister!"
"Well, Bear-Paw, supposing you take your torch and go across, then we will follow you."
The old trapper took the torch between his teeth and seizing the rope with both hands, he swung off. In a minute he waved his torch on the other side, and shouted—"Ketch ther rope," and in another minute Kelly was ready to follow.
He tried the rope, as if to make sure that it would hold his weight, never considering that a much larger man had just swung on the same rope; and it was with a sensation that he had never before experienced, that he grasped it firmly and swung off. He soon found himself beside the old trapper, who said:
"Yer done it well, boy! But I'm afeard that booby over thar won't dare ter try it!"
He shouted to Curtiss to catch the rope, and again it went to the other side and was caught by him.
"You go first, Nulela," said Curtiss.
"No, Nulela will follow her chief!"
"Are you sure you can hang on?"
"Nulela is not a child," she replied. "But is the white chief afraid?"
"Oh, no! But what should I do if you were to fall? It would be instant death!"
"Does my chief then care for me?"
"Care for you? Yes, little one—I love you!" he answered.
"Oh! I am so glad!" exclaimed the Indian girl; "then I can go with you, and be your wife?"
"Yes," replied Curtiss, "if we ever get out of here."
A call from both Kelly and the old trapper to "hurry up," put a stop to their love-making, and Curtiss took a firm hold upon the rope and started for the other side. He had barely regained his feet when the old trapper seized the rope and sprung out, leaving the scout and Curtiss alone on the brink of the chasm.
Their first thought was of treachery. Could it be possible that the old man was about to leave them there as the easiest and surest way of getting rid of them?
They surmised all sorts of things—probable and improbable. They saw him land on the other side. Here he said to the Indian girl:
"Jest wait a minit till I git some more torches."
Then he put the rope into her hand to hold until he should return. Presently he came back with a lighted torch in his hand, and several more stuck in his belt.
"Now, gal, we'll jine our friends on ther other side."
He held his torch up to her face, to see if she exhibited any signs of fear, but though he saw no such expression, he saw what puzzled him more—he saw that her eyes were blue.
"Girl, who are you? Certainly you are no Indian!" he exclaimed, in language entirely different from that he generally used.
"I am Nulela, the sister of Red Pine," she answered.
He looked at her a moment, as if trying to recollect some half-forgotten event, and bowing his head upon his hands, the strong man wept.
"Can it be that I have found my lost one?" he murmured. "My God! If it should be true, what a joyful ending there would be to all these years of sorrow and heart-ache! But no, it can not be!Shewas stolen by the fierce Apaches, and this one—ha! where is she?"
During his soliloquy the Indian girl had swung off and was now standing beside her friends on the other side of the chasm, and the voice of Kelly was heard shouting:
"Here comes the rope, Bear-Paw, catch it!"
A moment later and the old man stood beside them.
"Wull," he said, "yer kem acrost all right, didn't yer? An' now we'll go an' see ther anermiles."
Proceeding a few yards further into the cave, he turned abruptly to the left, and entered a large circular room. Here the party were greeted with a chorus of howls, yells, and snarlings, which continued until the old man said:
"Hush! yer 'tarnal critters! Don't yer see I've brought yer some company?"
Immediately the growling ceased, and the old man led the way around the room.
Chained to the walls were four monster bears and an equal number of panthers, and they manifested great pleasure when the old trapper patted them on the head, and called them by their names.
The party were much surprised when the old trapper removed the chain from the neck of the largest grizzly, and said to him—"Now go an' shake paws with ther gentlemen." The bear did as he was ordered, and returned to his master.
"Do you have many visitors?" asked the scout.
"No, yer ther only men these anermiles has seen in eight year," was the reply of the trapper.
"I should think it would take you all of the time to keep these fellows in meat."
"Thar yer mightily mistaken then, for when thar is too many reds about, I send them out ter hunt fur me! Now yer moughtn't like ter b'lieve me, but I kin send any one uv 'em out, an' they'll bring in suthen ter eat quicker nor either uv yer fellers kin."
"Is it possible that they are so well trained as that?" asked the scout.
"I'll show yer," replied the hunter, and he let loose a huge panther, and patting him on the head, said:
"Now, Andy Jackson, go an' ketch me a deer, an' be spry about it, too! Yer knows whar ter find 'em, don't yer?"
The animal looked up at the hunter's face, and then actually nodded his head in assent.
"Wull, go on then, an' don't yer stop ter play!"
The panther bounded past the party and disappeared in the gloom beyond.
"How in the world can he get out?" asked Curtiss. "Surely he can not swing over the chain?"
"Wull, I reckon he could ef I'd ever l'arnt him! But yer see ther's no occasion—this yer hole goes clean through ther mountain. But I'll show yer thet some other time."
"Hark! What is that?"
"It's Andy Jackson passin' ther guard," replied the trapper.
"Who do you have for a guard?"
"He's er brother uv Andy Jackson, but I calls him Barnum jest 'cause he kin humbug more Injuns than any other feller in ther kentry, 'thout it ar' ther king uv humbugs, old Barnum his self. Tell yer what, stranger, he's ther knowin'est varmint uv 'em all. 'Tain't more'n ten days ago, I war out looking arter things gineraly, when I run inter a nest uv 'bout er dozen Blackfeet. They had er white feller what they war a-goin' ter roast, an' I allowed it didn't look jest right, so I kem back an' got Andy Jackson an Barnum, an' we went fur ter stop ther fun. Wull, they war so 'tarnal busy with ther white man that they didn't see us at all, tell jest as they war goin' ter set fire ter ther brush. Then I shot ther feller what was ther leader, an' you'd jest orter see'd them two boys, Andy an' Barnum, sail in, an' go ter sp'ilin' Injuns! Fact, thar didn't a one uv 'em git away! All ther Injuns in this kentry are scart uv me, an call me a heap big medicine; so they don't very often kem around here—an' thet leaves me all uv ther trappin' ter myself. Kem, let's go back now to ther fire."
"But what will become of Andy Jackson?" asked the scout.
"Oh, he'll kem back purty soon, an' be in his stall when I want him!"
"What will he do with the meat, even supposing that he gets any?"
"He'll dervide with the rest, like a man," replied the trapper.
"I don't believe—"
The speaker was interrupted by the old man, saying:
"Thar he kems, now. Ef yer don't b'lieve it, jest keep watch on him."
The trained panther came bounding in, with the carcass of a deer in his mouth, and thrown across his back.
Kelly noticed that the head was gone, and said:
"Andy stopped by the way to take his own lunch, I see."
"Yer don't see anything uv ther kind! Andy jest chawed ther head off, an' giv it to Barnum, 'cause thet's his favor-itepiece. 'Sides yer see it saves ther trouble uv ruunin' back when he feeds ther rest. Yer needn't laugh, fur as sure as yer live, that ar' Andy Jackson has got more good sense than half uv ther humans in this territory. Now, ef yer ain't in a hurry, jest watch ther critter."
The panther had laid the deer upon the floor of the cavern, and stood wagging his tail in anticipation, while the old hunter took his knife and proceeded to cut it into so many pieces as there were animals.
"Thar, Andy," he said, "feed ther rest, an' take yer own piece, an' go ter bed."
The party were by this time prepared for 'most any degree of tractability on the part of the animal, yet they could not repress an exclamation of admiration and surprise, when they saw the animal do as he was bid; it was hard for them to imagine how they could be brought so completely under the control of the strange old man.
They recrossed the chasm in the same manner in which they had gone over, and were soon again seated around the fire.
Curtiss and the Indian girl were upon one side, by themselves, completely lost to their surroundings. But, the story of their love-making was so like others of the same kind, that need not repeat it here. Those of my readers who do not "know how it is themselves," have the sympathies of the writer!
In his fight with the Pawnees, Red Pine had lost several warriors, which fact was not at all calculated to produce any good feeling on his part. More than this, he lost what he could not well afford to—his temper.
He fumed and swore around, venting his anger upon whoever happened to get in his way.
He resolved to make one more desperate fight, even if he had to take all the warriors of the Sioux nation to do it. Just then, he felt as if he would like to exterminate the whole Pawnee tribe, and the Blackfeet, too, with the exception of Snowdrop. Especially would he sweep from the face of the earth the young pale-face who had come between him and his desires.
To this end he dispatched his swiftest runners to the Sioux village with an earnest appeal for help. There is no doubt in the world but that he misrepresented facts to his superiors, but then his conscience was one of those elastic affairs which do not give their possessor much trouble, and he thought that all was fair in war as in love.
Then, too, his sister was gone, and he knew that he would not dare to go back without her. Had he been alone, he would have trumped up some lie, by which he might get clear of all responsibility; but he knew that many of the old warriors who were with him, would not hesitate to put the affair in its true light before the councilors of the nation.
Thus we find him encamped with his followers within a few miles of the scene of his recent defeat, to await the return of his messengers.
And White Wolf felt very much as if he had been doing a large amount of work for a very small remuneration.
He was not angry—oh! no! But, as Jehiel remarked when he saw the Pawnees leaving: "I'll jest bet that critter feels awful demoralized!"
White Wolf knew that somewhere among the hills there was a white man who had been instrumental in rescuing Snowdrop from the hands of the Sioux, and who stood between his wishes and the love of the Blackfoot queen; and he resolved to hunt up that white man, and put him out of the way.
So he returned to the place where he had won so decisive and brilliant a victory over the Sioux, and went into camp.
We left Jehiel mounted and ready for whatever might turn up next, and there he sat, as did the whole band of Blackfeet, until the Pawnees were nearly out of sight.
"We will go to the village of my people," said Gray Eagle; and he turned his horse and started for the north, followed by the Blackfoot warriors.
He had gone a full mile when he spoke to Snowdrop; but receiving no answer, he looked around to see what had become of her. Then he saw her and Jehiel standing where he had left them.
Ordering his band to remain where they were, the old chief galloped back.
"Why does my daughter and the Long Hunter stay here?" he asked.
Snowdrop did not reply, but Jehiel did.
"Waal, old man, we was tryin' to think of suthin' mean enough to call you for desarting a friend in this way."
"What does the Long Hunter mean?" asked the old chief.
"I mean just this, that you're an old liar! You agreed to be a friend to us fellers, if Lew would get your gal away from the Sioux! He did it, he did, and now, dog gone your old pictur', you was goin' off hum without tryin' to find out if he is dead or alive! I told Lew just how it would be, when he said you had swore to befriend him. I don't think much of such friends as that!"
"White Panther promised to bring the scalp of Red Pine to Gray Eagle, and he has not done it."
"Waal," replied Jehiel, "he hadn't had time yet. Jest wait a few days, and you'll see him come walkin' inter your camp a-whistlin' Yankee Doodle, and old Red Pine's head under his arm—see if you don't!"
"Gray Eagle can not wait. The Long Hunter had better find his friend and go home, or my warriors will find them and kill them both!"
"Are you goin' to desart Lew Kelly in this way?" asked the thoroughly angry Yankee.
"Gray Eagle owes the pale-face nothing, for he has not done all he promised."
"I've a good mind to shoot you myself, you 'tarnal old traitor you!" exclaimed Jehiel.
The old chief did not notice him, but turning to Snowdrop he said:
"Come, my daughter."
He turned and started toward his band, but Snowdrop made no effort to follow him.
He came back with an angry frown upon his face. It was the first time Snowdrop had ever refused to obey him.
"Why does my daughter linger?" he asked.
"Snowdrop will not enter her father's lodge until he has found the White Panther! He saved her life, and Snowdrop will not desert him!"
"The Pawnees have gone that way, and they will find him and kill him!" replied the old chief.
"Then Snowdrop will die with him!" exclaimed the maiden.
The old chief loved his daughter as the apple of his eye, and he knew that she would not give up by coaxing—she was too much a chip of the old block for that.
He could take her home by force; but she would certainly run away if he did.
He could confine her so that she could not leave; but she would take her own life.
He knew the scout would not take Snowdrop for his wife—he had heard him say that he had a wife already.
Looking at the case in all its bearings, he resolved to assist his daughter in finding White Panther, and then compel him to marry her, whether or not. So he said:
"Gray Eagle will find the pale-face, and give him to Snowdrop."
Signaling for his band to return, he started for the place where he had last seen Lew Kelly. When within a few miles of the place a scout came running back with the intelligence that the Pawnees were encamped on the old battle-ground.
This intelligence was not at all pleasing to him, for it necessitated the making of his camp on the side of the range where he then was. However, necessity knows no law, and he was obliged to call a halt upon arriving at the foot of the hill.
He did not know that the object of his search was within short rifle-shot of him at that moment.
He had made his camp close by a small stream which ran along the base of the hill. Upon the opposite side of the stream the rocks towered above them a hundred feet or more, forming an insurmountable barrier to further progress in that direction; and with his scouts out, he did not fear surprise.
Lew Kelly was telling Bear-Paw how he came to be in that section, and also of the treaty of peace he had made with Gray Eagle.
"But," he said, "I don't know whether the old chief will consider himself bound to keep the contract until I bring him the scalp of the Sioux chief, as I promised. I hope he will, for there is plenty of game about here, and every indication of gold. In the hills, where my friend and I made our camp, we found several nuggets of pure gold; and I have no doubt there is plenty of it among these hills, as they are of the same range."
"I've got er gold-mine what'll do yer eyes good ter see," said the old trapper. "Jest wait er minit an' I'll show yer."
He went to the opposite side of the room, and returned, bearing a buck-skin bag, which he opened and poured the contents upon the floor before the scout.
"Thar," he said, "is about fifty pounds of ther durned stuff, enuf ter make yer rich fur life; an' I'll give yer ther hull lot on't, ef ye'll agree ter go hum, an' never say nothin' about thar bein' any here."
The scout was too much surprised to reply.
"What does yer say?" asked the trapper. "Ain't it enuf?"
"Yes, it is enough," replied Kelly; "but, did you find it all among these hills?"
"Sartin. An' I kin show yer more nor ten bushels uv it, layin' around loose!"
"Where?"
"Down in ther kasm—will yer go down an' see it?"
"Not now," replied the scout. "I must find out, first, where my friend is. I blame myself for keeping still so long, and if you will let me out, I will go to the top of the bluff and see if I can discover him."
"All right. I'll go with yer," replied Bear-Paw.
Kelly took care to return the gold to the bag, and place it where he could find it again; then he signified his readiness to go.
"I'm goin' out, gal," the old trapper said to the aged negro woman. "Jest keep yer ears open, fur I may be in a hurry when I kem back," and they were ushered into the outer cavern.
A low whinny greeted Kelly.
"Poor old horse!" he said, "you are on short rations just now. I must try and get you something to eat."
"Yes," said Bear-Paw, "we'll cut some grass fur ther critter, an' bring back with us."
Kelly led his horse to the water, and after he had drank, returned him to the cavern and told him to lie down.
The two men were soon upon the level plateau which formed the top of the hill. Once there, they saw a sight which surprised them not a little.
Directly below them was the camp of the Pawnees, while beyond, and not more than five miles away, they could discern another camp, but could not make out who they were.
Kelly easily recognized the Pawnees, for he was well acquainted with them, and knew White Wolf almost as well as he did Jehiel.
"I wonder who those others can be, off yonder," he said.
"I can't tell yer, they's so fur off; but you can bet they ain't no Blackfeet!"
"How do you know?" asked the scout.
"'Cause that 'ar is west, an' ther Blackfoot village ar' off here ter ther north furder. Le's go over ter ther other side an' see ef we can diskiver them."
Approaching the other side, they saw immediately below them the camps of Gray Eagle, and Kelly recognized his friend Jehiel, and also Snowdrop.
"What does this all mean, do you suppose?" he asked.
"Can't tell," replied the trapper. "It looks as ef there mought be fun ahead. But come on, le's cut some grass fur ther hoss an' git back. We'll know more about it afore mornin'."
With their knives they cut each a large bundle of grass, and returned to the cavern. The scout threw down his load, but the old trapper said:
"No, not thar. We must take ther animile inside, fur I an goin' ter hev this room full uv Injuns afore long."
"What do you mean?" asked the scout.
"Jest yer wait an' see," was all the reply he could get.
The old trapper was getting terribly excited about something, and it was not until after the huge rock door was between them and the outer cave that he regained his composure.
Kelly found a good place for his horse, and throwing a bundle of grass before him, left him to his own enjoyment. This done, he was about to seat himself beside the fire, when Bear-Paw said to him—"Kem with me," and they proceeded to the chasm, where they swung over.
From a recess in the wall the old man took a bow and arrows and a long rope, and led the way into the room used as the menagerie.
"Now," said he, "jest write er letter ter yer friend, an' I'll let him know whar yer ar'"—and while the scout was writing a few words to satisfy his friend of his safety, the old trapper went about among his animals, talking to them, and petting them in his usual manner.
When the letter was completed, he told Kelly to follow him, and then led the way to the rear entrance of the cave.
He soon arrived near the opening, where he halted and said:
"Don't let Barnum humbug yer, fur he kin scratch like ther Old Boy, ef he's a mind ter. Yer see, he's crosser nor ther rest, an' ain't in ther habit uv lettin' folks go by him. But ef yer keep close ter me, I reckon ye'll be all right."
Proceeding a few feet further, they came to an abrupt turn in the passage, and a low growl warned them that they were near the guard. The old trapper held his torch before him and went ahead.
"Shut up, Barnum! What ar' yer so sassy about? I'll give yer a lickin'," he said, "ef yer don't quit yer foolishness."
And he stood and talked to the animal until Kelly had passed beyond his reach.
About fifty feet further on, they came to the end of the cave, and the daylight streaming in from above showed Kelly the outlet of this singular cavern. With the exception of the chasm, it was a complete tunnel through the mountain.
The old trapper brought a ladder of poles, which he placed against the side of the opening, and told the scout to go up and see what he could discover.
An exclamation of surprise escaped the lips of Kelly, as he beheld, not more than four rods away, the camp of the Blackfeet.
Jehiel was just leading his horse to the creek to give him water, when the scout told the old man to come up where he was.
In a moment Bear-Paw was by his side, and hastily fitting an arrow to the bow-string, he sent it within an inch of Jehiel's foot, where it stuck in the sand.
Jehiel sprung back as though bitten by a snake, and looked up to see who had discharged it; but could discover no sign of any living being in the huge bowlders opposite. Then he pulled the arrow from the ground, and returned to the camp.
"Come here, little gal," he said to Snowdrop; "I want to tell you suthin."
The Indian girl came out, and Jehiel showed her the arrow, and after explaining how it came in his possession, added:
"I guessed you might know more about it than me. What does it mean? Kin you tell, from the looks of the stick, what tribe made it?"
The girl took the arrow and examined both the steel head and the spiral coil of feathers upon the tip.
"Snowdrop does not know. She will ask her father; perhaps he can tell—but what is that tied around it?"
Then Jehiel observed, what had before escaped his notice, that a piece of paper was wrapped about the arrow-stem, and he carefully removed it.
"Jewhillakens!" was his exclamation, as he recognized the handwriting.
He read it over to himself, while Snowdrop stood waiting for an explanation.
Jehiel looked up with a puzzled expression—he did not know whether it would be safe for him to tell her or not. He more than half-doubted the sincerity of the Blackfoot chief—at the same time, he had resolved to shoot him, should he find that Gray Eagle had deceived them.
And, he argued, what need he care for Snowdrop? She still insisted that she would be no man's wife if she could not be the wife of White Panther.
Jehiel knew that there was no earthly hope for her in that direction, and he rather congratulated himself on the fact that he was not the only one who would be disappointed.
"Waal, Snowdrop," he said, "this here letter is from Lew Kelly, the feller what you call White Panther—"
"Where is he? What does he say?" eagerly demanded the Indian girl.
"He's all right," replied Jehiel, "and I'll read you what he says," and the scout read: