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B    3    327 


T.BUCHANAN  PRICE, 


OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY 
OF 


•- 


SNAP. 


THE     OX-TRAIlSr     ERA 

EARLY  TROUBLES  OF  BORDER  TRADE. 


BY 


T.  BUCHANAN   PRICE. 


"/«  tilt  snap  o'  the  -whip  there  s  bread ; 
In  the  bang  o   the  rifle  there  s  blood." —  Border  Legend. 

"An  honest  tale  speeds  best,  being  plainly  told." — Shakespeare. 

*         *        *        *    "'Rude  am  I  in  my  speech, 
And  little  blessed  with  the  set  phrase  of  peace"—  Othello. 

"The  ivor  Id  was  made  for  honest  trade" — Emerson. 

"Where  the  spirit  of  the  Lord  is,  tJtere  is  liberty"—  2  Cor.  iii.  7. 


NEW  YORK : 
W.    B.    SMITH    &    CO., 

BOND  STREET. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1881, 

By  T.  BUCHANAN  PRICE, 
In  the  office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington, 

Att  rights  reserved. 


HERMAN  D.  UMBSTAETTER, 

AN  EARNEST  AND  LOYAL  FRIEND, 
I  HAVE  THE  HONOR  TO  DEDICATE  THIS  BOOK. 

WIDELY  KN9WN  TO  THE 
PRESS  OF  THE  COUNTRY, 

•TO    COMBINE    INTEGRITY,    SKILL,    JUDGMENT,    ORIGINALITY  • 
THE  GENIUS  OF  AN  ADVERTISER,  AND  THE 

SNAP 

OF  A 
BRILLIANT  MAN  OF  BUSINESS, 

HIS  MERITS  WOULD  BE  BUT  FAINTLY  SPOKEN  OP, 
IN  THE  MOST   FERVID  PRAISE  OP 

THE  WRITER. 
(5) 


M638728 


AUTHOR'S  NOTE, 

MY  object  has  been  to  write  a  story,  inspired,  in  a  great 
measure,  by  personal  observation ;  to  write  it  plainly  with 
the  license  of  a  free  pen,  but  with  force  and  zeal. 

The  plot  and  scene  are  original  and  fresh.  The  rife  per 
ils  of  those  who  lived  on  the  border  long  ago,  will  serve  a 
spirited  recital,  without  an  extravagant  line  or  an  over 
drawn  figure. 

No  youth  can  be  harmed  by  knowing  through  what  strife 
the  trade  of  the  Great  West  has  straggled  and  thrived. 

As  a  big-bo}T's  book,  the  author's  best  wish  is  that  it  will 
please  best  in  matter,  which  he  believes  is  alive  with  stir 
ring  incidents. 

T.  B.  P. 

(7) 


CONTENTS, 


PAGE. 
CHAPTER  I.    IN  THE  SNAP  o'  THE  WHIP,        .        .        .11 

CHAPTER         II.    THE  LITTLE  MOUND, 27 

CHAPTER        III.    A    BARBACUE  —  THE    HAUNTED     CABIN  — 

GONE! 41 

CHAPTER  IV.  THE  PIRATE'S  CAPTURE,  ....  55 
CHAPTER  V.  THE  SCOUT'S  RESCUE,  ....  72 
CHAPTER  VI.  SUSPENSE  —  THE  RALLY,  ....  88 
CHAPTER  VII.  THE  LONG  JOURNEY — THE  REAR-PORCH,  .  104 
CHAPTER  VIII.  TIM'S  RIDE  —  NEARING  THE  END  —  CATO'S 

HOLIDAY,  .        .        .        .        .        .        .     120 

CHAPTER        IX.    THE  CONSPIRACY, 138 

CHAPTER  X.  THE  WAY-WORN  RIDER  —  ROLL  OUT!  .  151 
CHAPTER  XI.  THE  PIRATES  —  THE  ROAD-SIDE  CAMP — 

YARNS, 164 

CHAPTER       XII.    THE   BAZOUKS  —  THE    BLACK    BRIGADE  — 

THE  SPIDER'S  NEST,  .  .  .  .181 
CHAPTER  XIII.  To  THE  FORT  —  THE  ROUGH-RIDERS,  .  195 
CHAPTER  XIV.  "STRUCK  HARD" — "  WIPED  OUT,"  .  .  209 
CHAPTER  XV.  REBUKED  BUT  NOT  REBUFFED,  .  .  .  223 

CHAPTER      XVI.     IN  THE  WING, 238 

CHAPTER    XVII.     THE  OUTBREAK 252 

CHAPTER  XVIII.  THE  ATTACK — THE  BUGLE-NOTE,  .  .  265 
CHAPTER  XIX.  Two  DEATHS  —  BECK'S  DUTY,  .  .  .  279 
CHAPTER  XX.  THE  MAHOGANY  CASE,  ....  293 
CHAPTER  XXI.  THE  STRONG  MAN'S  TROUBLE  —  HIS 

REWARD,  .......    306 


SNAP. 


CHAPTER  I. 


ON  the  high  bank  of  a  western  river,  far  out  among 
savage  haunts,  stood  a  cabin  post,  the  lonely  mart  of  a 
rude  trade. 

In  an  outlook  raised  on  the  roof,  not  unlike  the  pilot 
house  of  a  steamboat,  sat  the  trader,  who  suddenly 
spoke  aloud. 

"  Hello  !  that's  Beck,"  he  said. 

With  a  shout  he  hailed  the  rower,  who  neared  the 
foot  of  the  bluff,  but  his  voice  was  lost  in  the  whirl  of 
the  current,  or  spent  upon  the  radiance  of  a  sun- 
bronzed  plain. 

Beck  in  his  canoe  was  but  a  few  strokes  from  the 
landing  ;  one  dash  more,  with  a  few  strides  up  the  road, 
brought  him  to  the  cabin  door. 

"Back  soon,  pardner,"  the  sentinel  said. 

"Yes;  a  short,  tough  scout,  I  tell  you,  Peter;  I'm 
fagged,  too,  and  hungry  as  a  cayote."  Thereupon  the 

(ID 


12  SNAP. 

two  men  locked  arms,  taking  the  path  to  the  abode 
near  by.  A  word  only  was  spoken  by  the  elder,  and 
that,  the  simple  welcome  : 

"  Come  in." 

The  plain,  weather-boarded  white  dwelling,  under  a 
high  roof,  with  eaves  sheltering  a  porch  on  either  side, 
looked  cosily  clean  in  the  mild,  clear  light  of  the 
early  spring.  The  doors  and  shutters  were  of  heavy 
timbers,  crossed  and  cleated ;  above  the  front  door  a 
bison's  head  held  in  its  teeth  a  horse-shoe ;  bunches  of 
rose-bush  grew  by  the  porch  rail ;  the  fibrous  creepers, 
not  yet  green,  clung  to  the  lapping  board-work  ;  cone- 
shaped  evergreens  and  poplar  spires  sprang  from 
the  sward  near  the  entrance.  A  wide  hall  led  out  to  a 
kitchen  yard,  and  a  vine-clad  lath  frame,  closing  in  a 
patch  where  summer  blooms  would  spring,  set  apart 
the  quarters,  poultry-coops  and  well-shed.  Within, 
there  was  a  quaint  sort  of  outfit ;  here  and  there  a 
rough  bench,  a  rustic  seat  and  a  deal  table,  took  shyly 
to  their  betters.  The  trader  had  bought  his  furniture 
less  for  use  and  ornament  than  from  some  capricious 
notion  of  its  former  service.  It  was  altogether  a  snug, 
far- west  domicile ;  a  highway  charm  to  the  traveler 
who  saw  the  sun-flare  on  the  garret  windows.  The 
grove  and  chimney  tops  were  known  in  camps  beyond 
the  plains. 

"  Thar's  a  good  farwell  to  it,"  said  Beck,  smacking 
his  lips  as  he  put  his  glass  down  on  the  sideboard. 

"  An  heah's  a  set-out,  to  take  the  sharp  edge  off," 
said  the  other,  pointing  to  a  bowl  of  hot  coffee,  a  pone, 


IN  THE  SNAP  0'   THE   WHIP.  13 

spare-ribs  and  hominy  on  the  table,  while  he  continued 
speaking : 

"  So  you  keep  yer  arms  outer  sight,  John  ?  " 

John's  long,  dark  beard  fell  upon  his  blouse  of  but 
ternut  jeans  and  his  under-garments  were  belted,  with 
out  weapons.  From  the  knees  to  the  feet  he  wore 
fawn-skin  leggins,  buttoned. 

"Yes  ;  you  see,  Peter,  killin  ain't  the  thing  ;  all  I  do 
is  to  keep  others  from  killin  me,  or  you.  I  never 
shoot  less  I'm  'bleeged  to  ;  it  tain't  the  best  sign  to  see 
the  tools  in  sight ;  they're  handy,  though,  I  reckon,  if 
you'll  look  heah  at  my  blouse-waist,  inside." 

"  You  say  right ;  they  oifen  make  a  fight  or  spile  a 
bargain.  Well,  what  you  got  to  tell,  John  ?  " 

"  Lots ;  but  let  me  off  now."  John  was  enjoying 
himself. 

The  pause  gives  a  good  opportunity  to  take  their 
pictures  ;  none  better  to  touch  upon  their  antecedents. 

Cheviteau's  face  was  a  good  one ;  every  feature  did 
its  part  kindly,  in  frankness ;  not  less  the  gray  hairs 
in  grace,  to  the  descendant  of  a  voyageur.  Toil  is 
unpoetic ;  toil  and  strife,  alike,  cruelly  prosaic.  The 
splendor  of  a  sunset  marvel,  the  fleeting,  airy  grandeur 
of  the  dawn,  had  been  cold  and  colorless,  when  as  a 
barefoot  boy  he  viewed  them,  leaning  upon  his  wrhip. 
With  his  strong,  virile  faith,  he  had  no  fancy,  no  senti 
ment  ;  a  kindly  nature  unwarmed,  for  the  poor  are 
chilled,  stood  sternly  to  its  duty.  He  was  illiterate, 
superstitious ;  the  phantom  fires  threw  back  to  where 
he  stood  a  lingering  gleam  on  waves  of  gold-tipped 


14  SNAP. 

verdure.     He  saw  the  omen,  only.     In  the  track  of  the 
sun,  lying  straight  before  him  across  the  danger-haunted 
waste,  he  saw  the  path  to  success  ;  he  saw  besides,  all 
its  lurking  terrors,  trials  and  mishaps,  but  with  a  snap 
of  his  whip  he  resolved  to  follow  it.     From  the  spot 
where  the  sun  had  bid  him  go  forth  he  made  his  start, 
and  there  in  after  years  he  pitched  his  camp.     At  the 
foot  of  the  bluff  the  river  formed  a  wide  plateau  ;  there 
he  built  his  wharf,  —  a  steamboat  landing. 
.  First,  as  a  cattle-driver,  he  held  his  way  full   well. 
Soon  he  owned  a  team ;    in  the  snap  of  the  whip  he 
earned  enough   to  buy   another,  for   he   was   shrewd, 
almost  to  cunning.     He  was  self-reliant ;  all  his  earnings 
were  turned  into  cattle,  and  experience,  as  it  came  to 
him,  stood  in  the  place  of  book-learning.     He  raised 
stock  on  shares  with  a  cattle  dealer  ;  his  teams  increased 
to  a  train,  and  he  became  a  freighter  of  goods  to  distant 
forts.     He  was  brave,  though  prudence   was  his  best 
virtue.     Betwixt   these   little  epochs  of  a  lowly  life, 
came   all   the   changing   hazards   of   the    border;    the 
wearied,  footsore  tramps,  the  sleepless  nights ;  he  was 
chased,  hunted,  driven  back,  robbed  and  cheated,  but 
through  all  he  strode  into  manhood  with  a  round  sum 
laid  up.     Then  he   married  the  dealer's   daughter;    a 
comely  helpmate,  who    shared    his    cabin,  shaped   his 
habits,  bore  him  a  child,  taught  him  to  read  and  write. 
When    death    divided    them,    he    felt   a   strong   man's 
sorrow,   deep,   tender,   lasting,  but  moved  on,  facing 
danger.     The  steamboat  found  his  cove  and  linked  his 
future  with  good  fortune ;  he  held  it  well,  as  to  him 


IN  THE  SNAP  O1    THE   WHIP.  15 

seemed  best.  The  place  was  known  as  CHEVITEAU'S 
LANDING  ;  his  men  called  him  Colonel. 

"  Peter,  when's  that  boy  of  yours  coming  ?  " 

"In  the  nex  boat." 

"Can  he  load  a  wagon,  or  yoke  a  lead-team?  " 

"  As  good  as  any  man." 

"  Does  he  know  the  peach-color ;  can  he  bring  'em 
wo-hawr  on  the  run,  in  a  short  turn?" 

"He  knows  an  ox,  John,  from  hoof  to  hawn,  throws 
a  lash  pooty  as  a  streamer,  an  on  a  trade  he's  keen  as  a 
briar." 

"  I  never  saw  him  on  the  road  ;  what's  his  pluck  ? " 

"  Bes  kind  o'  grit ;  you  ken  supple  his  jints  if  you 
need  him." 

The  youth  spoken  of,  an  orphan,  had  been  left  in 
childhood  a  charge  to  the  trader ;  had  been  trained  in 
camp,  sent  off  to  school,  thence  to  a  city  counting- 
room,  and  was  purchase  agent  in  buying  the  supplies 
for  the  post. 

"He'll  do,  I  reckon,  Peter." 

Beck's  face,  usually  grave,  was  a  little  careworn. 
Years  before  he  had  enlisted  at  a  far-away  fort,  and 
after  winning,  through  merit,  a  sergeant's  chevron,  he  set 
up  for  himself  as  a  scout.  His  talk  was  careless,  never 
boastful ;  his  habits  steady,  and  his  sense  of  duty  true 
to  the  old  man's  friendship,  to  the  value  of  a  name  for 
good  qualities ;  his  past  was  a  closed  book,  never 
opened  or  touched  ;  his  manner  was  calm,  almost  gen 
tle,  the  fineness  of  true  courage.  In  height  and  port 
he  was  a  giant. 


1(3  SNAP. 

Mary,  the  trader's  daughter,  fresh  from  the  field, 
looked  in  at  the  door. 

"  Anything  wanted?"  she  asked. 
A  round,  rosy  face,  in  the  summer  hue  of  health,  was 
seen  under  her  rye-straw  hat ;  the  large,  soft  eyes  were 
the  light  of  a  winning  look,  and  the  brown  hair,  caught 
up  in  clusters,  coiled  trimly  above  her  neck.  There 
was  something  ever  so  neat  in  the  dark  dress  of  the 
young  woman,  with  its  broad,  white  collar,  and  a  scrap 
of  red  at  the  throat.  Mary,  too,  had  been  sent  from 
home  ;  she,  to  motherly  hands  that  reared  her,  and 
Christian  hearts  that  loved  her ;  she  came  back,  and 
the  goodness  she  had  dwelt  with  came  as  a  part  of  her ; 
she  took  up  each  care  with  ease,  her  duties  with  a  quiet 
good-will.  Sometimes  she  paused,  as  if  to  think  upon 
her  exile,  or  to  counsel  with  her  courage,  and  her  face 
saddened. 

"  So  you've  got  back  safe,  Mister  John,  with  a  whole 
scalp,"  she  said,  using  a  common  phrase. 
"  Did  you  think  I'd  leave  it  behind  me?" 
"  No,  truly,  not  you,  if  Kit  can  see  the  way." 
"And  you're  fixed  to  stay  out  here  for  good,  Mary?" 
"I  give  her  her  liking,  John,  to  live  with  her  friends 
or  come  to  me,"  her  father  answered  for  her,  pleased 
with  her  choice. 

"  What  would  you  all  have  thought  of  me  if  I  stayed 
away  ?  "  the  while  she  fluttered  about  like  a  bee ;  she 
dusted  the  pedlar-clock  on  the  fireplace  shelf,  turned 
a  chair  in  place,  closing  the  sideboard  door;  "and  you 
see,  Mister  John,  I'm  better  off  where  there's  plenty  to 


IN  THE  SNAP  O1    THE    WHIP.  17 

do,  with  the  will  to  do  it ;  little  by  little,  bimeby  much 
may  come  to  pass  :  a  church,  maybe ;  then  a  school- 
house,  you  know,  and,  maybe, —  a  good  Christian  out 
of  you."  She  laughed  at  the  thought  of  making  a  saint 
out  of  the  sturdy  scout. 

"  S'pose  an  Injin  ketches  you  before  all  that." 

"  And  wouldn't  you  catch  the  Indian,  Mister  John?" 
she  asked,  in  her  charming,  childlike  way. 

Going  out  into  the  hall,  she  stopped  at  the  door  of 
one  of  the  rooms. 

"I've  sent  for  the  milk,  Doctor  Tom." 

"  Thanks,  little  sweetheart,"  answered  a  voice,  as 
Mary  hastened  on  to  the  porch,  where  she  took  up  her 
knitting. 

Over  the  lattice,  not  far  from  the  knitter's  seat,  Chloe, 
the  cook,  handled  the  loaves  and  pies  at  the  oven.  She 
was  a  trusty  old  domestic,  short,  fat,  and  black.  Her 
face,  in  eclipse,  held  on  ever  through  the  darkness  of 
servitude  to  the  good  that  was  in  it ;  its  humor  and  con 
tent.  She  had  served  for  long  years  in  the  trader's 
family,  and  had  been  Mary's  nurse.  Standing  near 
her  was  a  boy,  a  blacker  mortal,  and  a  cross  betwixt 
the  monkey  and  Jim  Crow.  He  tapped  with  his  heels 
the  time  of  a  tune,  singing  :  — 

I'se  got  no  time  ter  terry, 

I'se  got  no  time  ter  terry ; 

I'se  got  no  time  to  stay  wid-ee  you, 

O — h,  good  fokes,  pity  me. 

"  Dar,  now  !  "  cried  the  old  woman,  suddenly  ;  "  what 
I  tole  yer,  eh  ?  He's  gwyne  an  dun  it,  sho  !  " 


18  SNAP. 

"Who  dat?"  asked  the  imp,  stock-still,  his  eyes  and 
mouth  wide  open. 

"  Sumpin's  gwynetohappin  ;  dus  yer  h'yar  me,  Cato  ?  " 

"  What  fur?  "     The  jet  of  the  boy's  face  grew  smoky. 

"  What  is  it,  Chloe  ?  "  asked  Mary. 

"  De  chicken,  honey  ;  free  times  he  dumb  de  fence  an 
crow'd,  chile." 

This  alone  was  the  dire  mishap  ;  but  the  resemblance 
to  the  cock-crowing  of  the  Scriptures,  to  her  a  sacred 
mystery,  was  quite  enough  as  a  portent  of  evil,  from 
which  she  believed  there  was  no  escape. 

"Let's  have  a  smoke,  Beck." 

The  two  men  passed  out  of  the  house,  while  the 
darkies  fell  to  work,  wondering. 

-  The  dwelling  stood  in  the  center  of  a  group  of  store 
houses  ;  and  from  the  path  where  the  men  were  standing 
there  was  a  good  view  of  the  post  and  its  surroundings. 
With  their  faces  to  the  prairie,  on  their  left,  partly 
within  the  circle,  was  a  dense  grove,  a  relic  spared  by 
the  axe  in  clearing  a  larger  wood.  On  the  right  was 
the  cabin  post,  surmounted  by  the  outlook,  from  which 
an  unbroken  vista  reached  to  the  horizon,  and  below  it, 
far  and  near,  could  be  seen  the  bend  and  sweep  of  the 
river.  From  the  house-front,  the  eye  fell  upon  the  out 
lying  plain  ;  the  kitchen-yard  extended  to  the  store 
houses  in  the  rear ;  a  short  distance  further  on  was  the 
blufTs  edge.  A  dee})  road  was  cut  into  the  bluiF 
ascending  from  the  landing  into  the  enclosure,  at  the 
door  of  the  post.  Within  bugle-cull,  on  the  right,  was 
the  camp  ;  in  the  far  distance  a  forest,  and  nearer  a 


IN  THE  SNAP  0J    THE   WHIP.  19 

picturesque  ruin.     A  creek  ran  across  the  plateau,  near 

by  this  crumbling  landmark. 

"The  post  and  camp,  Peter,  look  about  the  same." 
At  their  feet  a  grassy  slope  fell  away  to  a  lowland 

plain,  hedged  in  by  thickets. 

"  It  has  cost  a  heap  o'  trubel,  John,  to  scrape  all  that 

together." 

O 

"I  reckon,"  he  replied,  listening  to  the  workshop 
anvils  and  the  whip-snaps  mingling  with  the  sounds  of 
a  busy  scene.  A  small  army  was  quartered  in  the  little 
valley.  There,  in  sight,  was  the  corral;  lines  of 
wagons,  double-filed  and  parked ;  a  settlement  of 
cabins;  further  on,  the  grazing-ground,  and  cattle 
everywhere  ;  to  the  right  of  it,  the  hayfields.  And 
later  in  the  season,  the  mowers'  blades  would  be  seen 
flashing  in  the  sunlight. 

There  was  good  management  of  men,  iu  the  disci 
pline  of  the  post  and  camp,  under  train-leaders  and  a 
train-boss ;  a  man,  the  latter  had  need  to  be,  of  many 
turns,  fore-handed,  firm,  experienced ;  a  jockey,  a  vet 
erinary,  a  cattle-driver,  knowing  road-craft,  savage 
customs  and  savage  manners.  Such  men  were  hard  to 
find,  when  found  were  seldom  honest.  The  scout's 
calling  differed  from  this,  and  included  higher  qualities 
as  a  leader,  a  guide.  His  employer  was  a  freighter  of 
goods,  called  a  trader,  as  a  purchaser  of  supplies,  under 
contract.  The  period  was  that  in  which  the  narrow 
trails  of  the  Indian  and  trapper  widened  to  the  high 
ways  of  commerce.  The  scout  was  a  leader  of  the 
caravan ;  he  planned  expeditions ;  he  saw  that  the 


20  SNAP. 

roads  were  clear,  or  fought  his  way  through ;  he  knew 
every  stream  and  ford,  every  tribe,  friendly  or  hostile  ; 
he  must  of  needs  be  fearless,  cool-headed,  prompt, 
prudent,  of  sound  common  sense,  a  good  rider,  a  sure 
marksman.  And  Beck  was  all  of  these. 

"How's  your  stock  of  goods?"  he  asked. 

"Pootynigh  chock-full ;  what  Charley  has  bought  will 
fill  them  houses." 

The  log  store-rooms  encircled  the  dwelling  in  a  wide, 
round  cluster  of  many  buildings,  separated  to  ensure 
less  loss  from  the  accident  of  a  fire.  Such  was  not  gen 
erally  the  arrangement  at  out-posts,  but  seemed  to  be 
an  idea  of  the  trader,  caught  from  the  manner  of  park 
ing  his  wagons  on  the  road.  There  were  assortments 
stored  therein,  with  arms  and  ammunition,  in  readiness 
to  supply  a  fort  upon  order  of  the  government.  In  the 
way  of  drill  an  armed  teamster  stood  guard,  pacing 
the  muniment,  at  night,  crying  the  hours,  while  the 
trader  snored  like  a  patriarch. 

The  room  they  entered,  called  an  office,  held  a  high- 
desk,  a  table,  an  iron-box,  a  few  chairs  behind  a  rough, 
plank  counter ;  on  the  wall  a  pen-traced  map  of  North 
America  hung  from  a  spike  near  the  roof. 

"You  ken  go,  Harry,"  was  said  to  the  young  book 
keeper,  Harry  Carver,  a  clever  fellow  and  sharp,  as  the 
word  goes,  who  seized  his  hat  and  went  out. 

They  found  Jack  McQuain,  —  an  old  weather-worn 
trapper,  just  in  from  the  mountains  with  his  peltries, 
and  ready  to  depart  for  Santa  Fe, — seated  there.  A 


IN  THE  SNAP  a    THE   WHIP.  21 

queer  relic  was  this  gaunt  figure,  whose  broad  jaws, 
ever  in  motion,  ground  the  morsel  of  comfort. 

"Hello!  life  everlasting,"  said  Beck  to  the  veteran, 
who  drew  forth  his  bladder  wallet. 

"  It's  forty  year  sence,  I  reckon,  Beck  —  " 

Happily,  a  distant  sound  checked  what  would  have 
been  a  long  recital;  a  sound  much  like  the  mellow- 
voiced  harvest  horn's  over  a  meadow.  Mary  had 
heard  it,  and  as  the  men  listened,  she  called  to  them : 

"Father,  they're  coming;  it's  the  boat." 

The  trader  rose,  and  taking  down  a  battered  Kent- 
bugle,  he  blew  three  blasts  to  summon  his  bull-whack 
ers  to  the  wharf.  The  boat's  commander,  after  blow 
ing  the  stop-whistle,  was,  in  good  faith  and  morals 
bound  to  wet  his  own,  at  his  friend's  sideboard. 

Those  who  came  in  the  boat  were  Charley  Marshall, 
the  adopted ;  Louisa  Sommers,  Mary's  schoolmate ; 
Judge  Smith,  and  a  loquacious  old  woman  named  Gar- 
rulson.  Mary,  at  once,  disposed  her  friends  agree 
ably,  except  the  aged  stranger,  who  stayed  behind  in 
quest  of  a  feather  bed,  the  making  and  care  of  which 
had  cost  her  hours  of  anguish.  In  good  time  she  came 
along  with  her  burden. 

"May  I  never!"  she  exclaimed,  "ef  that  ain't  a 
breather." 

"Wait,  Chloe  will  help  you,"  Mary  said  to  her 
kindly. 

"  Jes  tell  me  whar  to  put  it,  chile ;  "  and  presently 
she  was  toiling  up  the  garret  steps  with  the  servant's 
help,  rattling  on,  catching  breath  as  best  she  could. 


22  SNAP. 

"Et's  full  six  foot,  nigh  onto  it,  an  no  skimp  mez» 
lire  uyther,  an  Sue  Fax's  boy,  the  wus  I  ever  seed, 
afore  I  had  onct  throw'd  my  akin  bones  acrass  it,  drap- 
ped  a  coal  o'  fire  right  in  the  middle  on  it  —  " 

"Dar  now,  ole  Miss,  yuse  safe,"  said  Chloe,  grasp 
ing  the  chance  to  put  in  a  stopper. 

Lu  Sommers,  Mary's  friend,  the  pet  of  an  aunt,  and 
at  her  own  home  the  favorite  of  a  coterie  of  country 
girls,  light-hearted,  lovable  and  of  sweet,  plain  man 
ners,  was  pretty.  She  had  an  income  in  her  own  right. 
Lu  was  a  childish,  affectionate  girl,  but  a  riddle  to  her 
friends,  in  her  simple,  uncertain  ways ;  just  such  an 
enigma  as  the  truthful  friendship  of  Mary  could  find 
out.  Both  were  of  good  size,  in  the  vigor  of  health, 
but  they  were  as  midgets  in  the  company  of  the  sturdy 
men  about  them. 

There  was  little  in  the  appearance  of  Judge  Smith 
to  modify  prejudice,  for  he  Was  not  a  popular  man, 
though  a  politician.  He  was  too  much  of  a  busy-body, 
with  too  little  merit  or  grace ;  pompous,  with  no  learn 
ing,  an  intermeddler  where  he  was  generally  mischiev 
ous,  and  was  called  "Jedge"  because  somebody  said 
he  was  a  lawyer.  In  meaner  parlance,  he  was  spoken 
of  as  "a  shark."  The  man  was  leanly  tall,  slovenly  in 
dress,  wearing  his  locks  long,  for  effect,  behind  his 
ears ;  the  few  hairs  below  his  nose  were  ill  at  ease, 
under  the  stare  of  his  cold,  gray  eyes. 

Beck  was  alone  when  the  trader  returned,  but  when 
he  and  his  friend  were  seated,  he  said,  promptly: 

"I    told   you,    Peter,   I   had   lots   to   tell;   now  to 


IN  THE  SNAP  &    THE   WHIP.  23 

bisnis.  How  long  has  this  train-boss  been  with 
you?" 

"  Oh,  a  long  time ;  an  he's  a  feller  what  knows  all 
about  oxen ;  knows  too,  every  tribe  twix  h'yar  an  the 
Pacific." 

"  Don't  he  give  you  trouble  ?  " 

"  Heap  of  it ;  he  war  a  drunken  slouch  wen  I  bought 
out  his  teams ;  I  took  him  kase  it  war  safest,  for  he 
might  set  a  tribe  agin  me  ;  he  has  lived  among  em  all, 
an  he  speaks  Mexan,  you  know.  I  dragged  him  outen 
many  a  scrape,  onct  for  the  ruination  of  a  family,  an 
I've  heerd  wus  things  about  him." 

"  Ain't  his  looks  enough  ?  " 

"He  ain't  a  pooty  man,  John ;  them  eyes  of  hisen  is 
like  a  thirsty  steer's  a  day's  pull  from  water ;  but  wat 
ken  I  do  ;  trade  mus  go  on  an  we  can't  git  good  men 
fur  his  place  ;  I  do  believe  he'd  yoke  hisself  with  the 
devil,  to  bus  me  up,  ef  I  turned  him  off." 

"  Your  trains  were  robbed  before  I  come  to  you  ;  is 
that  so  ?  " 

"Yes;  an  men,  good  men,  war  shot  down  at  their 
teams." 

"When  was  that?" 

"  Well,  I  know  it  war  jes  four  days  arter  a  full  moon  ; 
the  yeah  I  disremember." 

Beck  smiled,  but  went  on  : 

"Peter,"  he  said,  almost  sternly,  "your  train-boss 
worked  that  job." 

"  Oh  sho  ;  no  —  no  ;  how  could  he  ?  " 

"  He's  a  land-pirate ;  don't  I  know ;  he's  in  cahoot 


24  SNAP. 

with  Injins  an  Mexans ;  he's  chief  of  a  gang  of  train- 
robbers." 

"Youshure,  Beck?" 

"  Shure  !  why  man,  the  nex  thing  will  be  to  murder 
you." 

"Tell  me  quick,  John,  how  you  know  it." 

"  Know  it !  I  know  him  like  a  book,  an  heah's  a  leaf 
out  of  it;  see." 

Beck  drew  from  his  blouse  a  piece  of  elm  bark,  on 
the  inner  side  smooth  as  paper,  upon  which  had  been 
burned,  with  a  hot  point,  certain  hieroglyphics.  Placed 
before  the  trader,  in  the  upper  left-hand  corner  was 
seen  a  circle ;  thence,  diagonally,  were  four  smaller 
circles ;  then  two  lines  crossed,  and  a  figure  like  the 
stem  and  branches  of  a  tree.  In  the  lower  right-hand 

o 

corner  was  a  rough  profile  face,  marked  by  a  deep  line 
drawn  at  an  angle  across  it. 

"  That's  a  signal,  Peter." 

"Ken  you  read  it?" 

"  Yes ;  see  heah ;  that  first  circle  is  a  full  moon ;  that 
shows  the  clay  when  the  hound  sent  it  out  to  the  Injins  ; 
well,  the  four  little  ones  are  four  moons,  or  days,  don't 
you  see  now  ?  " 

"No,  notzacly." 

"  Why,  four  days  after  a  full  moon  you  were  robbed ; 
how's  that?" 

"  Go  on,  go  on." 

"Well,  now  see;  the  cross-lines  and  figger  means 
the  cross-roads  and  the  lone  tree  on  the  forty-mile 


IN  THE  SA'AP  0*    THE    WHIP.  25 

stretch ;  that's  zacly  the  spot ;  thar  your  train  was 
struck." 

"  Thunder  ! "  cried  the  trader,  as  if  suddenly  stricken 
himself. 

''Hold  on,  heah's  more  :  that  face  you  orter  know  by 
the  mark  on  it ;  that's  the  slash  cross  the  mug  of  your 
train-boss.  That's  the  way  he  does  bisnis  ;  that's  a  let 
ter  to  some  Injin  who  led  the  raid  on  your  train,  and  it 
was  plain  enough  to  him  ;  they  fought  at  the  lone  tree  ; 
the  men  fell  back  an  give  up,  the  Injins  plundered  an 
arterwards  divided  with  the  boss.  D'you  see?" 

"  Whar  did  you  git  this,  Beck?  " 

"Never  mind  now  ;  drop  this  pirate  right  off  or  your 
men'll  think  you're  fraid  of  a  thief." 

"  Fraid  of  him  !  don't  you  know  better  nor  that,  John 
Beck?  "  The  old  man's  lips  trembled  ;  in  truth,  he  saw 
all  the  old,  old  troubles  fresh  and  fearful  before  him ; 
an  enemy  vicious,  devilish,  step  out  on  his  path;  an 
enemy  to  fight  down  through  danger  and  death:  But 
he  got  up  from  his  seat  quickly,  bustled  about  with  his 
books,  and  said  : 

"He'll  go  or  hang,  now  mind,  John." 

The   boss  was  sent  for  and  soon  he  came  shufflin^ 

O 

through  the  gate  of  the  counter,  sneakingly.  It  was  a 
hard,  evil  face  he  turned  on  the  scout ;  a  heavy  brow, 
scowling  and  black,  and  there  was  a  scar  from  the 
mouth  to  the  temple. 

"Mornin,  kurnel." 

"Hyar,  take  yer  money  an  go;  you  hound,  now  go 
an  no  words  about  it." 


26  SNAP. 

"  Yer  all-fired  scrumpshus  ;  what's  up  ?  " 

"Go,  will  yer  go?"  screamed  the  trader  in  raire, 
breaking  the  fellow's  whip-stock,  which  he  snatched 
from  his  grasp,  throwing  the  pieces  in  his  face. 

Jack  McQuain  stepped  in. 

"Iletih,  Jack,  quick,"  called  Beck,  laying  his  hand 
heavily  on  the  train-boss's  shoulder,  "  don't  you  know 
this  thief? " 

McQuain  faced  the  man,  staring  hard  at  the  cut  on 
his  face  growing  purple. 

"  Bill  Cartwright,  the  cribber  !  "  but  the  wretch  had 
freed  himself,  howling  curses  as  he  broke  away. 


THE  LITTLE  MOUND.  27 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE    LITTLE    MOUND. 

BEFORE  the  sun  was  up,  old  Jack  set  out  on  his  jour 
ney  and  was  seen  far  away,  a  figure  dwindling  to  a 
speck,  as  the  day  grew  brighter. 

"  Come  here  quick,  Jump  ;  bring  the  rifles,  and  don't 
be  as  slow  as  your  figures." 

"  In  a  minit,  Whack.     What's  it  ?  " 
"A  good  shot  at  a  squirrel.     Come  on." 
Whack  and  Jump    are   not   strangers,    for  Charley 
Marshall  and  Harry  Carver  had  fallen  by  these  nick 
names  in  the  most  naturally  boyish  way.     One  called 
the  other  "  a  bull- whacker  ;  "  the  "  follow-suit "  of  the 
chum   was    "counter-jumper,"  and,    boy-like,    cutting 
these   by-words   short,   they   were   known   as  Whack 
and  Jump. 

Whack  was  of  good  size,  a  plain,  open-faced  strip 
ling,  neither  coarse  nor  comely ;  strongly  built,  wide 
shoulders,  well-shaped  hands  and  feet.  He  was  the 
son  of  a  Kentucky  farmer,  of  good  stock,  who  died 
poor.  In  his  ways,  the  youth  borrowed  a  little  from 
the  fresh  manners  of  Western  lads,  and  from  the 
musciilar  form  and  freedom  of  a  border-man.  His 
mouth  pleasantly  held  the  cheery  wrinkle  of  a  half- 
formed  smile. 


28  SNAP. 

Jump  was  very  much  like  his  friend  in  form  and 
face,  but  the  taller  of  the  two,  about  the  same  wreight, 
of  the  same  mould  ;  he  stooped  slightly  from  the  habit 
of  the  desk.  An  air  of  conceit  gave  to  his  face  a 
marked  cast,  not  bold  but  complacent. 

He  was  soon  at  the  side  of  Whack,  not  far  from  the 
office-door,  under  a  branching  maple. 

"Here,  take  your  pet,"  he  said,  handing  to  his  com 
panion  a  Kentucky  rifle, — the  favorite  border  gun  of 
those  days  :  "let's  load." 

"  Give  me  a  greased  patch  ;  you  can  take  your  charge 
from  my  horn-point." 

"It's  my  shot,  Whack  ;  where's  your  game?  " 

"  Do  you  see  that  knot  near  the  crotch  of  the  big 
limb  yonder  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"Well,  it's  a  squirrel." 

"  You  don't  mean  that  knot's  not  a  knot  ?  " 

"Don't  be  funny,  Jump;  see  here."  Whack  raised 
his  rifle  and  fired,  cutting  the  bark  under  the  ambush, 
and  the  squirrel  moved. 

"Stand  aside,  Whipstock  ;  give  me  a  chance."  The 
speaker  was  a  good  shot,  but  slow  of  aim,  and  while 
bringing  his  piece  to  a  "  dead  level,"  Whuck  tried  to 
flurry  him. 

"Your  hind  sight's  raised,  Jump." 

"So  is  my  gun  ;  "  but  just  as  his  sight  in  steady  range 
covered  the  mark,  a  sharp,  clear  shot  rang  out  behind 
them,  and  the  game  fell. 

"  Scalped  him,  by  Jingo,"  cried  Beck,  lowering  his 


THE  LITTLE  MOUND.  29 

piece;  "you're  too  slow,  Jumper;  an  Tnjin  would  have 
spotted  you  before  you  shouldered.  Come,  Whack, 
the  old  man  orders  me  to  boss  the  camp,  and  you're 
my  sargent.  That's  a  clean,  oft-hand  shot  twixt  his 
yehs,"  he  said,  as  he  threw  down  the  dead  squirrel. 

"You  may  have  it,  Book-keeper  ;  I  told  you  your  hind 
sight  flickered,"  said  he  of  the  whip,  laughing,  as  he 
strode  off  with  the  scout.  His  felt  hat  sat  jauntily,  and 
at  every  stride  he  flirted  the  skirt  of  his  brown  linen 
blouse, — the  blouse  of  the  plains,  with  its  pleated  front 
and  rolling  collar. 

The  report  of  the  rifle  summoned  Doctor  Tom  from 
the  ease  of  his  arm-chair  to  the  porch  outside,  and  see 
ing  the  cloudlet  of  smoke,  like  so  many  of  his  hopes, 
resolved  into  air,  he  turned  back,  walking  slowly. 

This  world-worn  recluse  was  the  son  of  a  rich 
planter,  in  childhood  a  parent's  darling,  humored  in 
the  petty  fancies  of  wealth,  and  taught  to  lean  upon  a 
family  name  and  a  feeble  self.  At  college  the  boy 
studied  and  excelled,  not  from  a  love  of  knowledge, 
but  spurred  by  a  hate  of  those  who  tried  to  excel  him  ; 
the  only  useful  turn  of  his  pride  during  life.  He  won 
honors  in  the  profession  of  medicine,  but  his  riches 
tempted  him  to  ease,  and  sooner  than  be  chagrined  by 
a  loss  of  practice,  he  quitted  the  practice  altogether. 
The  man  was  accomplished,  but  in  little  matters  his 
vanity  grew  to  be  so  puerile  it  was  ever  playing  at 
cross-purpose  with  his  better  parts  ;  a  pride  that  urged 
the  evil  of  his  nature  to  war  with  the  good  and  raised 
the  strife  of  a  dual  self.  He  was  ignorant  of  his  infill- 


30  S.VAP. 

ite  weakness  ;  failure  met  him  more  than  half-way,  dis 
grace  at  every  rash  step,  catching  his  morals  in  the 
meshes  of  a  passion,  ungodly,  unmanly.  His  mind  be 
came  morose,  his  nerves  unstrung,  and  so  he  blindly 
went  his  way ;  he  quarrelled  with  best  friends,  f. night  a 
duel,  and  went  down  through  easy  stages  to  the  weaker 
vices  of  the  gaming-table. 

With  what  was  left  of  his  means  he  bought  a  steam 
boat.  It  had  passed  and  re-passed  Cheviteau's  landing, 
and  Doctor  Tom  and  the  Colonel  were  sworn  friends. 
On  one  of  the  trips  the  Doctor,  in  a  freak  of  high 
frenzy,  being  bantered  at  cards  by  a  noted  player,  lost 
his  steamer  on  the  throw  of  a  card.  The  furniture  and 
outfit  were  exempt  from  the  chance,  and  these,  with  a 
small  stipend  from  land  rents,  were  the  remnants  of  a 
large  fortune. 

The  throw  of  the  card  was  a  miracle,  for  nothing 
less  could  bring  such  a  man  suddenly  to  his  senses  ;  his 
better  nature,  his  better  self,  upheld  him  in  the  crisis, 
his  true  pride  was  touched  and  quickened.  He  rose 
from  the  table  indifferently,  lighted  his  cigar  with  a 
bank-bill,  bowed  to  the  company  and  found  his  state 
room.  There,  in  the  silence,  in  his  conscience,  as  in  a 
mirror,  he  saw  his  dual  self  reflected  ;  a  poor,  tortured, 
trembling  spirit,  helpless,  almost  hopeless,  spoke  to 
him  feebly  but  gently.  He  fell  asleep;  the  voice  in 
his  ear  and  tears  on  his  pillow. 

He  was  another  man  when  he  stepped  ashore  at  the 
landing  and  made  the  formal  transfer  of  his  steamer  to 
the  winner,  in  the  Colonel's  presence.  What  passed 


THE  LITTLE  MOUND.  31 

between  him  and  the  trader  afterwards  was  known  only 
to  themselves,  but  the  Doctor,  after  choosing  a  part  of 
the  outfit,  sold  what  was  left  of  it,  and  became  an  in 
mate  of  the  house.  And  so  it  was  that  therein  the 
long  oaken  table,  covered  with  green  cloth,  became 
the  dining-board,  the  leather-seated  arm-chairs  ranged 
with  coarser  fellows,  the  carved  side-board  gave  out  an 
odor  like  a  Turkish  cabinet's,  the  little  elegancies  of 
Mary's  room  were  tokens  of  the  Doctor's  regard. 
She  was  to  him  the  seraph  in  the  desert  of  his  mis 
fortune. 

"  What  yer  doing  man  ?  "  cried  Chloe  from  her  door 
step.  A  teamster  stood  near  her  quarters  about  to  fire 
upon  a  bird  on  her  roof-tree,  "is  yer  gwyne  ter  bring 
de  jegment?" 

"No,  I'se  gwyne  ter  bring  down  a  bird." 

"  Doan  yer  do  it,  please  ;  dar  now  don't ;  kase  yer  see 
mister  thar's  gwyne  to  be  truble  ;  its  a  comin  sho  ;  in  de 
bang  o'  de  rifle  dar's  blood,  I  tell  ye,  ony  you  keep  on/' 

While  she  talked  the  bird  flew  away. 

"  Good-by,  Doctor  Torn;"  it  was  Mary's  voice,  as 
she  looked  in  at  the  porch-door. 

"Good-by,  little  run-about,"  he  replied,  walking 
faster  to  see  her  off,  and  kissing  his  hand,  with  a  bow, 
as  she  left  the  steps. 

"Good-by,  aunt  Chloe!" 

"Good-by,  honey,  is  yer  gwyne?  de  laws,  Cato,"  she 
said,  dropping  her  voice,  "all  clat  little  one  wants  is 
tedders  fer  to  fly." 


32  SNAP. 

"Fedders!"  the  boy's  month  once  opened,  it  burst 
into  song,  as  his  heels  flew  up  : 

"  In  der  mornin,  in  der  mornin." 

"Oh,  hesh,  boy,  yus  alias  11  try  in  ferto  frowyer  leo;s 
away;  do  hesh." 

"She's  cut  out  jes  like  my  sester  Ann,  and  she  was 
the  pootiest  piece  of  gal-flesh  —  "  here  Mrs.  Garruison 
stopped  short  as  Chloe  left  her  "to  min  de  stobe." 

Mary  started  out  on  her  love-lighted  path,  catching 
the  glow  and  the  glory  of  the  bright  summer  morning; 
in  her  hand  a  quaker-basket  filled  with  nic-nncs  for  the 
sick,  and  the  little  rye-straw  hat.  Her  daily  stroll, 
and  many  times  daily  when  needed,  was  to  the  white 
hamlet  of  cabins,  close  by  the  green  cattle  pasture. 
Around  her  steps  a  flowery  wilderness  threw  its  per 
fume  on  the  air.  Her  influence  was  felt  in  all  the  little 
matters  of  the  post  and  camp.  In  the  cabins  she  was 
an  oracle ;  to  the  simple  folk  she  was  as  one  inspired, 
working  wonders  through  the  perfect  sway  of  love  ;  her 
own  sympathies  so  tender,  she  felt  suffering  as  keenly 
as  the  sufferer,  chaining  each  one  to  her  happy  self, 
each  link  a  blessing  from  other  hearts. 

As  she  nearcd  the  camp  she  heard  the  cheer  of  the 
men,  a  welcome  to  Beck;  she  saw  her  father  tending 
the  cattle-drove  ;  she  heard  the  sound  of  the  anvil,  and 
the  snap  of  the  whip  ;  nor  did  she  fail  to  note  the  Jud<re 
in  a  shady  spo<  >dged  about  by  a  group  of  off-duty 
hands.  His  ac  •  lintancc  with  each  had  ripened  in  ten 
minutes,  in  tea  more  he  spoke  as  one  who  had  known 


THE  LITTLE  MOUND.  33 

them  all  their  lives.  Some  of  the  men  had  families, 
and  the  log-huts  were  held  by  them  rent-free  on  condi 
tions  which  enforced  order  and  cleanliness,  Mary's  own 
terms.  Nor  was  she  loath  to  reprove  or  warn  them. 

"I  heard  of  you,  Mister  Tim,"  she  said,  to  a  rollick 
ing  Irishman. 

"An  did  ye,  indade,  mavourneen?     I'  faith,  its  little 
good  o'  me,  that  same,  ochone.     Bys  will  be  bys,"  all 
the  while  squinting  a  mischievous  eye,  for  he  had  been 
on  a  spree,  and  he  knew  that  she  knew  it. 
A  step  further  she  asked  a  Scotchman  : 
"How's  the  baby,  Mister  Sandy?" 
"Bad,  bad,   mi  lassie,  it  war  a  skittish  night  along 
wid  the  sic  'un." 

A  little  beyond  she  met  Jane  Potts,  a  buxom 
damsel,  wearing  a  downcast,  timid  look,  who  spoke  in 
whispers. 

"  Good  mornin,"  the  girl  said,  as  she  edged  away. 
"  Weil,  Jane,  has  your  ship  come  in  with  the  beau 
you  wait  for?  " 

"Not  much  of  a  ship  jes  yet." 

At  the  cabins  crowds  of  urchins  followed  her ;  she 
passed  in  and  out  of  each  hut  dispensing  her  basket's 
freight,  striving  to  make  some  one  happier,  or  some 
thing  better,  in  the  delightful  drudgery  of  doing  good. 
She°looked  in  upon  the  sick  child  asleep,  whispered  a 
caution,  and  hastened  back. 

To  vary  her  walk  a  little,  Mary  took  a  path  skirting 
the  camp,  and  as  she  moved  along  briskly,  she  was 
suddenly  confronted  by  Bill  Cartwright.  He  eyed  her 


34  SNAP. 

thievishly  and  boldly  advanced  a  step,  then  shuffled  off, 
as  if  by  a  glance  he  had  been  warned  to  move  on  ;  a 
step  farther  in  the  grass  stood  a  mounted  Indian.  At 
an  angle  of  the  path  some  distance  beyond,  in  an  inter 
space  of  foliage  lighted  by  the  flickering  sunshine,  she 
heard  a  woman's  voice  and  saw  the  form  of  one  ;  no 
longer  the  demure  Jane,  but  Jane  as  a  hoyden  taunting 
Whack.  She  passed  by,  and  where  the  path  entered 
the  camp  she  saw  Beck  awaiting  her. 

"Don't  take  that  cut-off  any  more,  Mary;  tisn't 
safe." 

"  If  you  think  so,  Mister  John,  I'll  take  the  other." 

"That's  right ;  didn't  you  see  my  rifle  leveled  on  that 
hound ;  he  saw  me,  and  the  boys  have  gone  to  warn 
him  off.  Now  I'll  see  you  home." 

"  Well,  come  along,  if  you  will ;  won't  you  carry  the 
basket?  "  She  tossed  it  to  him. 

Had  he  grown  dear  to  her,  this  son  of  Anak,  this 
boyish  giant?  Wras  she  trying  his  wits  by  her  winning 
ways,  or  teasing  his  shyness?  She  knew  calmly  his 
worth,  his  kindly  heart,  its  truthfulness,  his  bold, 
brave  manhood,  but  there  was  much  in  his  life  ajar 
with  her  conscience. 

"  Thar's  some  bad  men  about,  and  that's  why  I  said 
what  I  did,  Mary." 

rf  That's  kind  of  you ;  if  evil  meets  us  or  dogs  our 
steps,  Mister  John,  can't  we  find  a  little  fresh  good, 
for  every  new  evil ;  that's  the  right  way,  ain't  it?" 

"Right  enough,"  he  answered,  looking  down  on  the 
midget  of  his  admiration,  as  if  she  had  read  to  him  the 


THE  LITTLE  MOUND.  35 

law ;   then  straightening,  he  drew  closer,  from  an  in 
stinctive  right  to  guard  her. 

In  height,  and  in  the  power  of  his  massive  limbs,  the 
latent  strength  of  his  sweeping  stride,  the  swing  of  his 
arms,  in  presence  and  purpose,  Beck  was  a  leader  ;  but 
the  manner  of  the  man,  at  his  ease,  was  almost  boyish ; 
there  were  moods  also  into  which  his  spirits  fell  sud 
denly,  from  gay  to  grave,  and  sometimes  abruptly  into 
a  show  of  temper,  or  a  transition  to  a  sober  strain  that 
seemed  despondent.  His  old  friend  thought  all  this 
came  from  some  cross  in  life,  and  Mary  hoped  it  was  a 
dislike  of  his  calling  or  a  distrust  of  it.  He  was 
delighted  in  her  company  ;  to  what  she  said  to  him  in 
playful  humor  or  in  the  many  and  varied  ways  in  which 
her  conversation  was  set  to  catch  his  thoughts,  his 
consciousness,  he  was  a  kind  and  ready  listener ;  but 
his  past  was  always  forbidden  ground ;  if  invaded,  he 
rose  confused,  with  a  shade  of  pain  on  his  face,  and 
walked  away. 

"  What  a  splendid  day  this  is  ;  I  wish  I  was  a  barefoot 
girl  again." 

"  You." 

"  Yes,  me  ;    don't  you  know  I  once  run  barefooted?  " 

«  You  !  —  well  —  Mary  !  "  The  scout  gave  voice  to 
surprise,  or  showed  his  respect  in  this  concrete  form. 

"Well,  what,  Mister  John?" 

"  Nothin,  only  thinking  of  a  little,  white  foot,  on  the 
big  green  earth  ;  didn't  it  hurt  you  ?  " 

"No,  of  course  not,"  she  said,  laughing. 

They  had  reached  the  porch  where  the  Doctor  was 


36  SNAP. 

talking  with  Lu,  and  Beck  moved  on  towards  the 
office. 

"  Why  didn't  you  take  me  with  you?"  asked  Lu. 

"Take  a  day's  rest,  write  to  your  Aunty,  then  I'll 
show  you  everything." 

"  How's  the  baby  ?  "  asked  the  Doctor. 

"It  was  asleep." 

"  That's  better  than  physic." 

An  hour  later  she  was  seated  in  her  room,  stitching 
an  infant's  dress. 

"  Mary,  here's  a  friend  would  like  to  see  you,"  called 
Lu  ;  and  laying  aside  her  sewing,  Mary  came  out  to 
meet  Sandy,  the  teamster,  at  the  door. 

"Will  ye  come,  lassie?  the  bairn  is  takin  bad,  an 
the  mither  is  sore  worrit." 

"  I'll  come  right  away,  Mister  Sandy." 

"  An  I'll  gae  to  the  cabin  wid  the  word,  bless  ye." 

As  the  teamster  hurriedly  left  the  house,  she  called 
Chloe  into  counsel,  handing  her  the  tiny  dress,  which 
she  looked  at,  as  she  parted  with  it,  with  gentle  regret. 

"Do  it  up,  nicely,  Chloe  ;  will  you?  Make  it  white, 
Chloe ;  just  as  white  as  snow." 

"  Chile,  dat  baby  '11  neber  put  it  on." 

"  Maybe  not ;  but  fold  it  prettily  for  me  ;  won't  you  ?" 

"To  be  sartin,  honey ;  sho,  I  vrill." 

In  another  moment,  after  placing  the  house  in  Lu's 
charge,  she  started  off,  tripping  over  the  same  sunny 
path.  She  paused,  looked  back  and  said  to  her  friend  : 

"Lu,  don't  forget,  father  likes  three  lumps  of  sugar 
in  his  tea."  In  the  gleam  of  the  summer  day,  still  and 


THE  LITTLE  MOUND.  37 

golden,  she  sped   along,  and    Beck   seeing   her   pass, 
followed  at  a  distance,  with  his  rifle  over  his  shoulder. 

Sandy's  cabin,  just  over  a  roll  in  the  prairie  through 
the  cainp,  was  soon  reached.  It  stood  in  the  shade  of 
a  sycamore  ;  a  window  on  either  side  gave  it  the  sem 
blance  of  comfort,  and  a  bush  of  sweet-briar  scented 
the  air  about  the  door.  Mary  entered  the  front  room 
of  the  two  ;  from  the  rafters  hung  yellow  gourds,  onion- 
ropes,  dry  herbs ;  there  was  a  pile  of  walnuts  in  a 
corner ;  a  jar  of  apple  butter  and  a  row  of  pale,  blue- 
rimmed  plates,  a  burnished  knife  or  two,  on  a  shelf. 

Taking  up,  at  once,  the  duties  of  nurse  : 

"Come  mother,"  she  said  to  Sandy's  wife,  who  sat 
on  a  stool  by  a  trundle-bed,  fanning,  "take  some  rest 
now,  I'll  call  you  if  baby's  no  better." 

"Ah,  chiel,"  moaned  the  woman,  looking  up,  "ye've 
come  to  see  the  last  o'  the  puir  thing." 

"  As  God  wills,  as  God  wills,  mother  ;  but  I'll  wake 
you,  and  maybe  baby  will  mend  :  go  now." 

"  I'll  rest  the  body  a  bit,  for  it's  mony  a  night  it's 
needed  it." 

As  the  nurse  opened  her  budget,  the  weary  wife 
stretched  herself  on  the  larger  bed,  and  was  soon 
asleep. 

Taking  the  stool,  Mary  glanced  down  tenderly  at  the 
sick  child.  There  was  pain  on  the  thin,  haggard  face, 
the  hollow  cheeks  were  bloodless,  nor  could  the  light  of 
its  golden  hair,  which  she  raised  and  let  fall  with  a 
pang,  lend  warmth  to  the  pale,  cold  form. 

She   rose,    as   the  infant  with  a  low,  sobbing  cry, 


38 

waked  from  its  troubled  sleep.  Sandy  was  sent  off  for 
Chloe  to  hasten  her  to  the  cabin,  for  in  all  sadden 
emergencies  she  came  at  Mary's  call. 

"  Say,  Mister  Sandy,  that  the  child  can't  swallow, 
and  leave  word  at  the  house,  please,  that  I'll  sit  up  all 
night." 

It  was  not  long  to  wait,  for  Chloe  came  in  haste. 

"  It's  no  yuse,  honey,"  she  said,  "nuttin  kin  help  it, 
cep  do  Great  Marster." 

"Shall  I  wake  the  mother,  Chloe?" 

"It  hasn't  long  to  go  on  dis  a  way." 

When  Sandy  joined  his  wife  at  the  bedside,  a  feeble 
flutter  of  the  baby's  breath  wafted  the  spirit  into  the 
evening's  calm.  All  still,  in  its  snowy  robe,  the  little 
one  lay,  the  pale  face  whiter  in  its  nest  of  curls,  and 
Mary  placed  in  its  tiny  hand  a  sprig  of  the  fragrant 
briar. 

Silence,  moved  only  by  murmuring  whispers,  chas 
tened  the  solemn  watch.  All  was  still  in  the  heart  of 
the  solitude.  Clouds,  warm  with  the  flush  of  sunset 
across  the  wide,  white  radiance  of  the  moon,  sailed  bv, 
and  beams  of  light  streamed  in  upon  the  nurse,  and  fell 
upon  the  cold  little  image.  Out  of  the  night  came  con 
soling  voices  to  the  ear  of  Alary ;  but  suddenly  there 
seemed  to  rise  above  the  sweet-briar  bush  at  the  win 
dow,  a  dark  and  forbidding  shadow  ;  it  changed  to  a 
hideous  fright ;  and,  as  it  grew  upon  her  sight,  she  saw 
the  dark,  bad  face  of  Cartwright.  He  leaned  upon  the 
window-sill,  reaching  towards  her,  and  about  to  speak. 
Then,  the  luminance  grew  intense ;  she  heard  and  felt 


THE  LITTLE  MOUND.  39 

the  wafting  of  pinions,  and  saw  a  descending  Azrael, 
whose  sword  was  like  a  glint  of  the  lightning,  as  the 
shadow  vanished.  Again,  she  heard  the  waves  of  dis 
tant  winds,  and  the  air  was  filled  with  a  perfume  not  of 
earth.  A  flitting  sprite,  winged  with  the  fragments  of 
a  shattered  star,  gazed  in  upon  her,  —  greeted  her  with 
the  smile  of  a  cherub,  —  the  lace  was  the  baby's. 

As  Mary  rose  in  the  transports  of  her  dream,  Lu 
caught  her  in  her  arms.  The  sun  had  risen,  and  the 
girls  hastened  home,  stopping  but  a  moment  on  the 
way  to  give  directions  for  the  funeral.  The  trader  met 
his  daughter  at  the  door. 

"You  will  come  with  us,  father,  this  evening,  when 
wre  bury  the  child,  won't  you?" 

"Yes,  we  must  all  go,"  he  answered. 

In  the  twilight,  they  came  together  from  household 
and  camp.  Chcviteau  was  the  first  at  the  cabin,  and  he 
said  to  Sandy  in  his  plain,  honest  way  : 

"Til  take  up  the  child,  Sandy,  my  man.  jes  the  same 
as  my  own,  — jes  the  same,  Sandy."  Then  raising 
the  little  painted  box  under  his  arm,  and  removing  his 
hat,  his  men  followed  him  in  line  to  a  knoll,  where, 
among  the  flowers,  the  grave  was  opened.  The  scout, 
with  friendly  care,  covered  the  coffin. 

"  I  wish  that  His  hands  had  been  placed  on  my  head, 

That  His  arms  had  been  thrown  around  me, 
And  that  I  might  have  seen  His  kind  look,  when  He  said 
Let  the  little  ones  come  unto  Me." 

It  was  Mary's  voice,  singing  a  sacred  melody.     Its 


40  S.VAP. 

sweetness,  trembling  with  emotion,  rolled  forth  on  the 
green  prairie  waves,  dying  out  in  pathetic  pathos.  It 
waked  a  thrill  in  the  stern  hearts  around  her,  and  left 
on  the  manly  faces  a  happier  look. 


A  BARB  A  CUE.  41 


CHAPTER  III. 

A   BAEBACUE. THE    HAUNTED    CABIN. GONE! 

A  FLOWERING  spread  of  daisies  and  buttercups  over 
laid  the  little  grave,  when  the  day  of  the  barbacue  came 
round. 

The  earnest  request  of  the  Judge  to  be  permitted  to 
address  Cheviteau's  men,  in  a  formal  way,  had  received 
kind  attention.  The  old  man  was  stoutly  set  in  his 
own  political  notions,  and  never  stinted  those  under  him 
in  the  freedom  of  their  own  faith.  So  it  was  that  when 
he  gave  leave  to  hold  a  public  meeting  in  his  camp,  he 
determined  to  make  the  day  set  apart  a  holiday,  and 
with  liberal  good  feeling,  a  barbacue  was  allowed. 
Through  the  day,  there  would  be  feasting  and  sports, 
and  in  the  evening  the  Judge  would  hold  forth  in  a 
speech. 

All  had  gone  early  from  the  house  to  the  camp  to 
join  in  the  merry-making.  Beck  had  led  Kitty,  his 
coal-black  mare,  to  the  family  group,  seated  in  the 
shade  of  a  small  grove,  and  having  placed  a  side-saddle 
on  the  little  pacer,  held  her  so  that  the  girls  might  have 
a  ride. 

"Come,  Miss  Lu,  I'll  help  you  up." 

"Me  !  oh,  no,  please,  let  me  off ; •"  she  hesitated,  in  a 
timid  way. 


42  SNAP. 

"Yes,  von  will,  Lu,"  Mary  insisted,  "for  I  know 
you're  a  good  rider." 

"I  can  set  you  in  the  saddle,  if  you  say  so;"  an 
offer  of  the  officious  Whack. 

"No,  I'd  rather  not.     I  don't  know  the  horse." 

"  I'll  hold  her  head,"  Jump  said,  not  to  be  outdone. 

"Why,  thar's  nothing  kinder  on  this  yar  arth  than 
this  little  beast;  she  can  do  anything  but  talk;  jes 
see  heah  :  Down,  Kit, —  down,  pet,  —  down."  Beck 
touched  the  mare's  knee  with  his  foot  as  he  spoke, 
and  she  swayed  down  so  low  he  could  almost  stride 
over  her. 

"Is  that  a  self-made  boss,  Beck?"  asked  Cheviteau. 

"She'll  do  anything  I  tell  her." 

"Come  now,  Lu, — for  me." 

"No,  no,  Mary  dear;  I  don't  like  to,  and  all  these 
men  about  the  camp." 

"Oh,  pshaw,  they're  a  kind,  good  sort  of  people, — 
home  folks,— rough  as  they  look.  I  go  among  them 
every  day,  Lu,  and  there's  never  an  unkind  word  to 
me  ;  they're  a  long  ways  off,  too."  Mary  was  a  little 
piqued. 

"Get  up,  Miss  Lu ;  I'll  ride  behind  and  hold  you 
on,"  Whack  added. 

"  Give  me  sitting  room  on  the  tail,  and  we'll  all  go  ;  " 
this  was  Jump's  attempt  to  help  out. 

But  Lu  held  back,  while  Mary,  impatient,  and  more 
than  all,  not  to  let  her  friend  think  that   her  father's 
people  would  bo  rude,  she  asked,  coaxingly  : 
"Won't  you,Lu?' 


A  BARB  A  CUE.  43 

"  Not  now." 

"  Well,  help  me  up,  Mister  John."  She  measured 
the  stirrup,  and  placing  her  foot  in  the  scout's  hand, 
she  leaped  into  the  saddle.  "  Break  me  a  thorn  or 
two,  Charley,  to  pin  on  my  hat ;  now,  the  whip." 
Then  catching  the  bridle  short,  she  turned  away 
briskly. 

"Well, — Mary  !"  exclaimed  Beck,  rubbing  his  hands 
like  a  happy  boy. 

"Hold  hard,  child,  when  you  speed  her;  she's  a 
pacer,  mind,"  cautioned  her  father,  as  she  passed 
him. 

It  was  a  balmy  and  serene  day,  all  freshly  bright  in 
the  youth  of  the  season,  and  the  little  mare  bore  her 
mount  far  away  in  the  white  breadth  of  the  sunlight. 
Not  for  a  moment  did  the  scout  drop  his  eyes  from  the 
receding  figures.  He  looked  at  them  fixedly  with  an 
earnest,  pleased  look.  The  rider  kept  on  in  a  steady 
pace  to  a  wide,  open  mead,  flecked  by  rolls  of  the  prai 
rie,  and  as  she  gracefully  swept  around  it,  changed  her 
course  to  ride  back.  Beck's  lingering  sight  saw  her 
seat  herself  down  in  the  saddle,  shorten  the  rein,  raise 
the  whip,  and  he  felt  a  sudden  thrill  caught  from  the 
spirit  of  the  girl  in  the  distance. 

"  Here  she  comes  ;  here  she  comes,"  he  kept  repeating 
loudly,  "  here  she  comes,  boys,  like  a  prairie-fire,  — 
look  at  that !  "  His  wild  manner  was  noticed  at  last  by 
the  crowd,  and  all  came  forward,  looking  on. 

"Stand  back,"  cried  Doctor  Tom,  "make  way  — I'll 
bet—" 


44  SNAP. 

"  Hoopee  !  look  thar,  —  see  that !  "  was  heard,  in  the 
scout's  wordy  glee,  while  Whack  and  Jump  kept  a  track 
clear  for  the  speeding  horse. 

"Hold  her  hard,  girl— steady  !  "  called  out  the  trader 
long  before  the  rider  neared  him  ;  repeating  his  heed  at 
intervals. 

Bending  low  on  the  mare's  neck,  her  stray  hair 
weighted  down  and  afloat,  like  a  loose  lonely  fleck  of 
cloud,  she  plied  the  whip  as  her  horse,  now  in  a  run, 
leaped  over  the  stretch  of  meadow.  On  she  came, 
charmed  with  the  sport,  and  as  she  neared  the  camp  she 
raised  her  hat. 

"You,  Kit!"  she  screamed,  while  under  the  whip 
and  voice,  the  little,  lithe  thorough-sped  swept  through 
the  lines  of  cheering  men. 

Beck  seized  the  bridle,  and  without  aid,  Mary  leaped 
to  the  ground.  "There,  Lu,"  she  said,  "you  see  how 
we  ride  out  here  ;  I  am  none  the  worse  for  it." 

"  Well  —  Mary  !  "  said  Beck,  "  it  beats  a  circus  ;  "  he 
went  on,  as  though  the  happiest  day  of  his  life  was  but 
half  over ;  "  and  Kit,  did  you  ever  do  it  like  that  be 
fore?  "  patting  the  mare's  face  for  an  answer. 

It  was  now  high  noon.  At  dawn  the  men  had  stirred 
the  low  fires  of  the  roast-pit,  where  cords  of  wood  burned 
through  the  night,  and  the  huts  of  the  hamlet  turned  out 
on  the  green,  their  household  goods  and  gods.  Men 
and  women,  their  babes  and  brats,  barelegged,  bare 
footed  children,  round  and  plump,  were  there,  the 
young  ones  running  wild.  The  big,  fat  ox  was  spitted 
whole,  then  turned  on  chains  with  hayforks,  and  carved 


A  BARBACUE.  45 

on  a  platform,  with  cleavers.  Then,  there  was  a  set-out 
of  loaves  and  pies  on  rows  of  plank-tables,  loaded 
down. 

The  custom  was,  in  the  trader's  primitive  notion  of  a 
feast,  to  open  it  in  person,  standing  with  his  family 
about  him,  at  the  head  of  the  board,  and  as  the  men 
filed  by,  to  exchange  with  each  the  homely  good- wishes 
of  the  day.  In  this  way  came  Tim  Murphy,  the  rol 
licking  Irishman,  Heinrich,  the  Dutchman,  Sandy,  the 
Scotchman,  the  Mexican  vaqueros  —  cow-boys  —  their 
ponchos,  glazed  sombreros,  and  jingling  spurs  a  little  at 
odds  with  the  dress  of  others.  Then  came  the  border- 
boys,  bull- whackers,  all, —  yahoos,  suckers,  corn -crack 
ers,—  and  one,  a  lad  from  a  local  Egypt,  called  Legs, 
by  his  fellows,  was  set  up  well  for  a  deep  swallow.  He 
halted,  raising  his  tin  above  his  head,  and  in  a  loud 
voice,  saluted  : 

"Heah's  to  Miss  Mary,  boys,  hooray  !  " 

Cheer  on  cheer  rang  out,  for  the  boy  had  spoken 
well,  and  had  nattered  adroitly.  No  good  word  of  the 
day  came  nearer  the  trader's  heart,  and  even  in  praise 
so  boisterous,  what  he  said  was  to  Mary  a  touching 
reminder  of  the  men's  good  will.  Quickly  taking  a  rib 
bon  from  her  hair  she  tied  it  on  the  boy's  whip-stock, 
saying  simply, 

"  I  thank  you,"    Then  they  all  cheered  again. 

And  so  the  barbacue  began  while  the  family  and 
friends  drew  oif  to  their  own  pic-nic,  that  the  people 
might  the  better  enjoy  themselves,  left  to  their  own 
fashion.  The  men  enjoyed  the  treat  heartily. 

Standing  by,  old  Chloe  fixed  herself  and  smiled,  in 


46  SNAP. 

doubt  of  her  senses  ;  the  pies  and  bread  were  no  longer 
in  sight,  a  whole  ox  had  vanished,  and  her  labor  of  a 
fortnight  dwindled  away  in  a  twinkling. 

"Gib  'em  half  a  chance,  dey'd  breed  a  famine,  sho ;  " 
she  said  to  herself,  as  she  turned  away. 

The  meal  broke  up  and  the  men  betook  themselves  to 
their  favorite  sports,  running,  jumping,  tilting,  quoit- 
pitching,  feats  of  strength  ;  and  above  the  flux  of  human 
voices,  the  crisp,  sharp  snap  of  the  whip*  was  heard, 
till  Mary  rode  her  race.  Some  of  the  men  were  practis 
ing  "the  double-snap,"  others,  trying  to  chip  a  plank 
with  the  cracker,  or  to  make  "the  fur  fly"  from  a  dry 
hide.  A  good-humored  set  seized  the  giggling  Cato 
and  stood  him  upon  the  tail-board  of  a  wagon,  like  a 
puppet.  A  threat  was  enough,  and  as  the  whips 
cracked,  he  danced  and  sang : 

Oli-lio  —  ah-ha, 

Toota,  toota  ta ; 
De  heel  an  do  Baffin 
A  pattin  an  a  puffin, 
Oh,  watch  dis  little  niggah 
As  quick  es  eny  triggah, 
A  pattin  an  a  puffin, 
Yer  fink  he's  good  fer  nuffin. 
•  O-ho — ah-ha, 

Toota,  toota  ta. 

Before  the  earliest  bird  that  morning,  Mrs.  Garrulson 
had  cause Jto  make  known  to  all  under  the  trader's  shel- 

*This  incessant  sound  was  the  music  of  the  trado,  but  the  ox- whip  of  the 
plains  is  a  torture  when  used  cruelly ;  the  stock  is  a  hoop-pole  about  five  feet 
in  length,  the  lash  of  twisted  ox-hide  of  double  length,  of  double-twist  mid- 
length,  and  is  whirled  and  thrown  with  both  hands.  The  snap,  in  the  recoil, 
is  as  loud  as  a  rifle's  crack ;  it  bruises  and  scalps  where  it  strikes. 


A  BARBACUE.  47 

tor,  that  she,  at  least,  was  awake,  and  in  healthful  vigor. 
A  crashing  sound,  varied  by  an  occasional  scream, 
hastened  Cheviteau  from  his  quarters  to  the  attic. 

"What  ails  you,  ole  woman?"  he  asked,  doubtingly. 

"Ails,  is't?"  she  shouted  back,  catching  for  breath, 
as  she  dropped  the  remnants  of  a  chair,  "  cf  half  yer  life 
had  a  bin  spent  a  savin'  penny  arter  penny ;  then  all 
ther  truble  of  a  raisin  geese,  goose  arter  goose ;  then 
the  pickin  an  a  sortin  of  de  feders,  feder  arter  feder,  ter 
make  a  bed  fer  yer  ole  man  to  stretch  his  akin  bones 
acrass ;  to  tote  it  roun  from  helifex  to  kingum  cum, 
and  to  hev  a  darn-sarned,  dog-gone  rat  a  nibbling  at  it ;  " 
here  she  cast  about  her  for  the  chair-leg,  "  I  tell  yer 
Mister,  I'se  boun  to  slay  that  ar  varmint,  ef  I  beat  yer 
house  down." 

With  the  sympathetic  feeling  of  an  old  man,  the  Col 
onel  retreated. 

Now  she  was  seated  on  the  green,  the  center  of  a 
crowd  of  women,  and  sun-browned  curious  urchins, 
forming  an  outer  circle.  She  had  talked  to  them  in  a 
tireless  strain ;  the  pedigrees  of  each  she  questioned 
closely,  rattling  on  to  scraps  of  gossip,  to  frantic 
romance,  the  dire  and  vengeful  rajds  of  Indians,  to 
fables  of  spookes  and  blood-sucking  vampires,  to  whip 
around  to  cures  for  cattle-murrain,  rot  in  sheep  and 
baby-colic. 

"  An  ken  you  cure  the  heart-ache  ?"  asked  a  malicious 
girl,  eyeing  Jane  Potts,  who  stood  up  with  shaded  eyes 
bent  upon  the  distant  Mister  Whack. 


48  SNAP. 

n  Ar  it  bad  sot ;  for  cf  it  ar  it's  a  death -stroke,"  she 
replied,  gravely. 

"Not  so  bad  as  that  comes  to,  I  hope,"  the  other 
said,  giggling. 

"  Hope ;  jes  what  I  sed  to  John  —  an  he  ar  my 
second  and  war  slow  to  take  on  —  John,  ses  I,  ef  it 
wasn't  fur  hope  the  heart  would  bust,  —  he  tuk." 

"  An  wat's  good  fer  the  rhumatiz  ?  "  queried  a  crippled 
neighbor. 

"  May  I  never  !  rhumatiz  —  why  honey,  I  ken  cure 
it ;  jes  try  a  little  frog's-fat." 

"  Frog's  fat !  "  exclaimed  Jane,  in  a  loud,  contemptu 
ous  laugh,  "  where'd  you  ever  see  a  frog  with  any  fat 
on  it?" 

In  truth  the  old  woman  had  never  seen  the  marvel, 
but  to  be  silenced  in  a  flow  of  wisdom  : 

"  What !  "  she  said,  springing  up,  "  its  jes  as  easy  to 
find  that  ar,  as  ter  find  a  young  man's  heart ;  gal,  you 
don't  know  how  ter  find  it ;  "  turning  the  laugh  on  Jane 
she  walked  off  in  triumph. 

Lu  and  Jump  had  drawn  away,  leaving  the  Judge 
and  the  Doctor,  the  trader  and  Mary  chattily  passing 
the  time,  in  the  shade,  while  Beck,  looking  after  the 
stock,  sent  Legs  out  on  the  prairie  to  drive  in  stray 
cattle. 

"  Oh,  such  lots  of  fun  as  we  had,  such  nice  young 
fellows  to  ride  about  with  us ;  how  aunty  would  scold 
and  fret ;  "  warbled  Lu,  in  little  fits  and  starts,  in  high 
and  low  key,  varied  by  the  melody  of  l^r  rich  laugh. 
She  spoke  of  her  home,  its  many  and  lovely  attractions, 


A  BARB  AGUE.  49 

of  a  farm  they  had,  its  stock  ;  of  her  pet  cows  and  horses 
and  almost  everything  connected  therewith,  until  the 
plodding  Jump,  a  business  young  man  and  from  forco 
of  habit,  soon  resolved  mentally  the  net  value  of  these 
lands  and  tenements;  what  the  income  of  the  pretty 
girl  might  be,  even  to  the  simple  and  compound 
interest. 

"  I  told  them,"  she  went  on,  "  that  I  was  coming  back 
when  I  could  bring  a  scalp  to  my  apron-string,  and 
not  before,"  using  a  border  phrase. 

Jump  whistled  low,  and  said,  after  a  pause  : 

"  Did  you?  "  rubbing  his  head,  an  intimation  that  he 
was  ready  to  submit  to  her  gentle  cruelty.  Lu  prattled 
on. 

The  family  party  was  broken  up,  when  Mary  and 
Whack  took  a  stroll ;  the  former  holding  back  her  con 
sent  until  upon  a  quick  change  of  thought  she  joined 
him  in  the  walk.  Her  father  had  observed  in  Mary's 
manner  throughout  the  day,  a  quiet,  if  not  a  sad  turn 
to  its  usual  mirth  ;  even  her  ride  had  seemed  to  others 
than  himself  a  feverish  excitement,  which  some  un 
known  cause  had  warmed. 

"  Yonder's  a  place  I'd  like  to  own,  Colonel." 

"  Spec  you  would  suh,  but  you  can't  squat  thar, 
Jedge." 

At  a  distance  less  than  a  mile,  a  picturesque  ruin 
partly  hidden  in  a  clump  of  evergreens  and  wild, 
blooming  berry  bushes,  caught  the  speculator's  envious 
eye.  It  was  a  tumbledown,  deserted  cabin;  birds 
made  their  nests  in  the  (Tumbling  chimney,  the  scarlet- 


50  SNAP. 

leafed  vine  crept  between  the  rolling  loirs,  the  rocks 
about  it  were  weather-browned,  capped  with  ivy  or 
with  moss.  Perched  on  the  crest  of  a  hillock  amonor 

o 

shrubs,  the  ground  fell  away  in  slopes  of  verdure, 
greenest  where  the  brook  leapt  laughing  down  the 
gorge.  From  the  trees  near  by  the  lengthened  shadows 
crept,  color-crossed  with  sunshine,  at  one,  around, 
about  it,  with  the  garish  plain.  It  was  a  rare,  poetic 
touch  of  nature. 

"A  beauty-spot,  Colonel,  that's  a  fac." 

"  It's  a  lanmark,  Jedge,  for  forty  miles  to  the  trains 
comin  in."  Set  in  the  round,  broad,  gilded  space,  it 
seemed  to  rise  in  the  azure  air  like  a  tropic  island  from 
the  sea." 

"It's  a  squatter's  site,  ain't  it?" 

THE    STORY    OF   THE    HAUNTED    CABIN. 

rf  Yes  ;  an  the  mos  misfortunit  set  I  ever  seed,  Jed«'c. 
Some  yehs  ago,  a  man  an  wife  an  chile  came  along  an 
squatted  thar.  They  lived  sorter  content  like,  till  the 
man  war  took  down  with  the  agur,  an  from  that  out, 
things  went  crooked  with  em, — the  crookedest  sort. 
I  give  em  a  lift  now  an  then,  an  Mary  she  took  kindly 
to  cm,  little  as  she  was,  but  the  man  he  went  from  bad 
to  wus,  and  broke  squar  down  in  the  fust  rut.  He  war 
as  crazy  as  a  June-bug,  Jedge,  and  then  this  sarpint 
Bill  Cartwright  crept  over  the  doorstep.  If  I  had  a 
known  it  in  time,  I'd  a  made  his  flesh  creep  afore  he 
went  too  far.  Howsomever,  I  liked  Tobias,  for  he  war 
a  hard-forking,  honest  feller,  I  mus  say  that,  an  as  fur 


THE  STORY  OF  THE  HAUNTED   CABIN.  51 

scripsher,  he  know'd  it,  Jcdge,  from  Genesis  to  Rcverla- 
tions,  varsc  by  varse,  clean  through.  I've  seen  him  at 
the  plow,  the  cattle  pulling  outer  furrow,  the  .sweat  a 
pourin  down  his  face,  an  he  a  talkin  holy-writ.  Things 
went  wrong  in  course ;  his  wife  got  tired  an  mopish 
like,  an  she  took  sick  an  died.  Ole  Chloe,  she  sot  up 
long  nights  along  with  her,  but  it  war  no  use.  Then 
thai*  was  the  darter,  a  woman  mos  grown,  the  foolish- 
est,  mos  stubborn,  simple  kinder  critter  lever  seed, 
but  to  her  father, — why,  Jedge,  he  thought  she  war 
jes  an  angel.  I've  seed  em  settin  at  ther  door-step 
yander,  at  sundown,  many  a  time,  her  head  in  his  lap, 
an  he  a  play  in  with  her  curls.  She  war  a  likely-looking 
piece  too,  an  I've  heerd  him  tell  her  them  stories  from 
the  bible  —  better  nor  preachin,  Jedge,  —  an  I  sot 
thar  with  em  offen,  an  many  a  story  took  holt  on  me, 
an  has  hilt  its  holt  ever  sence.  But  the  gal  went  off 
with  Cartwright  —  an  thar's  no  countin  for  a  woman's 
notion  —  he  treated  her  like  a  clag,  they  say,  an  she 
died  too.  Wen  her  father  heeri  it,  he  went  a  ravin, 
an  a  stavin  mad,  madder  than  a  bald-hornet,  an  he's  bin 
wanderin  about  from  that  time  out.  It  war  a  long  time 
arter  Bill  come  inter  my  service  that  I  heerd  about  the 
thing,  and  then  he  mended  like,  but  Tobias,  some  say 
he  ar  dead,  some  that  he  ar  alive,  but  Cartwright  allers 
swore  he  had  seen  his  ghost  out  thar,  an  the  men  say 
the  place  ar  hanted.  But  I  got  it  from  his  people  ;  it's 
a  pooty  place,  too  ;  jes  see  the  sAveep  from  the  hill  to 
the  ravine,  thar.  No,  Jedge,  it  can't  be  had." 


52  SNAP. 

"I'd  like  to  have  a  mortgage  on  it,"  he  said  in  a 
disappointed  way,  and  the  two  separated.  The  trader 
sought  out  the  nook  where  Jump  was  still  paying  the 
most  courteous  attention  to  Lu,  and  the  Judge  joined 
the  crowd. 

As  Beck  rode  off  on  Kitty  to  picket  her  near  the 
cabin  till  sundown,  when  Lu  would  ride,  two  mounted 
Indians  rode  into  the  camp.  They  were  often  seen 
there  and  no  heed  was  taken  of  their  coming,  —  a  com 
mon  imprudence  on  the  border  was  to  rely  too  much 
upon  the  Indian's  show  of  friendship.  Settlers  and 
traders  were  generally  careless  until  some  catastrophe 
awakened  their  caution. 

Bill  Cartwright  was  not  far  away.  The  felloAv,  boy 
and  man,  had  served  his  turn  at  every  vice  ;  his  were 
the  coarser  qualities  of  the  bully,  though  not  without  a 
certain  boldness  in  crime  ;  a  blood-reckless  audticity,  a 
flurry  of  passion,  which  won  him  admiration  among 
the  worst  of  his  kind.  He  consorted  with  thieves,  a 
low  gambler  in  the  cribs  of  the  south-west,  the  go-be 
tween  of  the  debauched  savage  and  ferocious  white  ; 
he  the  prime  cause  of  race  antipathies  and  rankling 
hates. 

Mary  and  Whack  returned  to  their  starting-place, 
talking  fast,  he  protesting,  and  she  with  a  warning 
finger. 

"I  have  a  right,  Charley,  to  speak  to  you  as  a  sister; 
such  I've  been  to  you  and  such  I  hope  to  be  ever. 
Take  care,  don't  trifle ;  she's  not  the  girl  for  you ; 
she's  artful,  and  when  too  late  you  might  find  that 


THE  STORY  OF  THE  HAUNTED   CABIN.  53 

something  had  changed  your  nature  in  a  minute,  and 
you'd  be  lost." 

r?But,  Mary,"  he  said,  "  you're  too  fast." 

"  Don't  let  that  be  said  of  you  ;  now  I'm  going  to  the 
cabin  alone,  for  some  flowers." 

"Til  go  with  you  ;  it's  a  long  tramp  from  here." 

tfNo,  never  mind;  I've  been  there  often  alone."  She 
feared  what  might  be  thought  of  their  going  together, 
as  too  close  an  intimacy.  Had  Beck  been  there  he 
would  have  followed  her  with  his  rifle  ready,  but  Mary 
felt  safe  in  the  love  of  all  who  knew  her. 

And,  as  she  tripped  away,  the  two  Indians,  unseen, 
rode  off  on  their  ponies. 

On  the  path  she  had  taken,  the  ruin  lay  sleepily 
quiet ;  the  fitful  shade  around  it  fell  away  in  graceful 
curves.  All  forms  of  delicious  color,  from  the  scarlet 
hues  of  a  low,  western  sun,  to  the  far-off  specs  of 
beauty,  one  by  one  were  singled  out;  the  emerald  and 
the  ruby,  plumes  of  crimson,  the  feathery  and  winged 
floss,  waved  in  myriad  sprays  of  light.  And  Whack 
watched  every  step  of  the  gentle  girl,  as  she  sped  along, 
swinging  her  little  straw  hat.  Then  he  turned  slowly 
toward  the  camp,  as  her  form,  in  a  flood  of  sunshine, 
disappeared.  . 

Beck  had  sauntered  into  camp  again,  and  the  Judge,1 
ever  alert  upon  the  chances  of  a  politician,  and  in  ac 
cordance  with  the  day's  arrangements  ,  had  now  drawn 
the  crowd  around  him.  In  the  ancient  form  of  a 
stump  speech  he  made  hay  while  the  sun  lasted,  and  he 
was  near  the  close  of  his  harangue,  when,  nearing  the 


54  SNAP. 

camp,  the  teamster,  Legs,  was  heard  hailing  at  the  top 
of  his  voice. 

The  trader  and  the  scout  were  standing  on  the  edge 
of  the  crowd,  and  on  the  instant  Beck's  muscular  form 
seemed  knotted  to  spring  beyond  its  common  height. 

"Sumpiu's  happened,"  he  said  in  a  husky  voice; 
"  Where's  Mary  ?  " 

"  Where's  Mary  ?  "  was  repeated. 

"  Gone  to  the  cabin,"  said  Whack. 

By  this,  the  lad,  running  an  almost  breathless  race, 
drew  near. 

"  Gone  !  gone  !  "  he  shouted. 

"Gone  !  "  The  word  was  taken  up  and  retold,  while 
Cheviteau  drew  the  exhausted  boy  into  the  crowd. 

"  Speak  quick,"  he  said,  trembling  in  the  white  heat 
of  fear  and  suspense. 

Again  the  ominous  syllable,  — "  Gone  !  " 

"  Can't  you  talk  straight.     Who's  gone  !  " 

A  moment's  silence  for  breath,  then  the  lad's  pale 
face  looked  up  and  he  answered  :  — 

"  Bill  Cart wright  an  yer  darter  !  " 


THE  PIRATES  CAPTURE.  55 


CHAPTER  IV. 
THE  PIRATE'S  CAPTURE. 

OUT  of  the  golden  light  into  the  shadow,  out  of  the 
shadow  into  utter  darkness,  so  danger  followed  Mary, 
enfolding  her  like  night,  as  she  bent  above  the  violets 
and  bluebells  ;  a  swift,  black  frown  of  Me  seen  in  the 
faces  of  the  flowers ;  a  cloud-like,  dismal  ill,  closing 
in  her  life,  on  the  instant,  to  a  narrow  span  of  pain ;  a 
clutch  like  the  vulture's,  deep  and  vital. 

"Open  yer  mouth,"  hissed  Cartwright,  as  he  threw 
a  blanket  over  her  head  and  his  arms  held  her  fast, 
"I'll  brain  ye  with  my  pistol." 

Through  all  her  border-life  she  feared  that  some 
mischance  might  bend  her  spirit  to  a  rigid  test,  but 
her  native,  air-fed  strength,  and  that  stronger  trust 
besides  in  will  to  bear  and  suffer  and  be  brave,  had 
like  an  armor  girded  her.  She  felt  the  cold  steel 
touch  her  shoulder ;  it  waked  her  latent  courage,  and 
dashing  the  blanket  aside,  she  stood  alone,  defiant. 

"How  dare  you!  how  dare  you!"  she  repeated 
with  crimson  cheek  and  quivering  lip. 

Springing  out  of  the  man's  grasp  with  a  sudden 
wrench,  the  brute  was  amazed. 

"H'yar  now,"  he  snarled,  f'give  in,  you'd  better," 


56  5A:yy. 

fearful  to  lay  hands  on  the  calm,  steel-nerved  young 
Spartan  facing  him-  "'you'd  better,  or  it  mought  be 
wus  for  ye  ;  I'se  got  nothink  agin  ye  gal,  mind  that ; 
wen  yer  ole  man  comes  down  to  make  us  squar,  I'll 
give  ye  up  an  not  afore." 

"It's  worth  your  life  to  hold  me,"  hinting  that  he 
would  be  slain  if  he  did  not  yield,  or  was  caught,  "do 
you  count  on  that?"  she  asked,  folding  her  arms. 
"I  allus  take  that  chence." 

"  What's  your  price  ?  "  She  ventured  the  question  to 
gain  time,  casting  about  her  in  a  thousand  flash-like 
schemes. 

"Price  !  well,  a  cool  thousand  or  two,  I  reckon  ;  dus 
ye  mean  bisnis?" 

"  Is  that  what  you  want  ?  " 

"  Yes,  that  ar  all  I'se  arter ;  money  ar  the  tiling 
gal." 

During  this  brief,  shrewd  parley  — and  it  brought 
her  a  world  of  comfort  —  she  saw  the  one  sordid 
motive  of  the  wretch.  From  her  kindness  to  him  in 
her  father's  service,  and  from  his  manner  now,  she 
gleaned  the  belief  that  her  capture,  bad  as  it  was,  was 
the  worst  of  his  wicked  design. 

"If  that  is  what  you  want,  Bill  Cartwright,  listen 
to  me;  I'll  pay  the  money.  Let  inc  go,  and  I  will 
promise  it." 

"You!"  he  excLiimed,  the  scowl  clearing  away  for 
an  instant  as  he  looked  at  her  steadily  ;  "gal,  I'd  trust 
ye  fer  a  mil  run,  but  you  keiit ;  don't  I  k'now,  so  don't 
tek  on,  an  dry  up." 


THE  PIRATES  CAPTURE.  57 

He  whistled  thrice  through  his  lingers,  when  two 
Indians  on  their  ponies  rode  out  of  the  hollow  near 
by,— the  same  redskins  who  left  the  camp  and  who 
had  been  often  fed  from  her  father's  bounty.  They 
led  the  mustang  of  their  leader  and  the  scout's  mare, 
stolen  while  grazing  where  he  had  fastened  her  picket- 
pin  but  an  hour  before.  By  signs  they  made  known 
how  they  came  by  the  catch. 

"Luck,"  said  the  pirate,  grinning  coarsely  with  a 
lively  faith  in  Chance,  as  a  deity  to  be  worshipped. 

Mary  now  saw  that  to  submit  was  the  one  sole 
alternative,  in  which  the  airiness  of  her  disposition 
began  to  fade.  Still,  she  held  patiently  to  the  belief 
that  no  other  harm  than  a  cruel  captivity,  how  long 
she  knew  not,  was  in  store.  She  tried  hard  to  keep 
back  the  teeming  fancies  of  fear  and  hope,  the  troop 
ing  thoughts  of  her  home  and  friends,  the  ever  wake 
ful  doubts  that  she  might  the  better  plan  an  escape 
from  the  peril.  Could  she  give  a  signal?  What  if 
she  screamed  or  ran?  Would  he  shoot  her  down? 
What  if  when  mounted  she  dashed  oft"  at  the  risk  of 
her  life?  She  weighed  and  turned  each  thought,  for 
there  is  no  faint  or  spasm  in  the  bravery  of  a  border- 
bred  girl,  but  in  her  captor's  look  she  saw  a  purpose 
not  to  be  trifled  with  ;  she  was  completely  in  the  power 
of  a  brute  and  savages,  he  worse  than  they ;  nor  wtis 
she  allowed  to  dwell  upon  her  miserable  mischance. 
Cartwright  motioned  for  the  mare  to  be  brought. 

"Now,   gal,   mount;   thar's  no  time  fer  foolin,   an 
throw  this    round   ye,  fer  we'se   gwyne   ter   ride  all 


58 

night."     He  handed  a  blanket  to  Mary  and  was  about 
to  raise  her  to  the  saddle,  when  she  sprang  from  him. 

"I've  warned  you,  Cartwright,  not  to  touch  me;  if 
you  do,  I'll  call  the  ghosts  from  the  cabin  to  protect 
me."  She  had  spoken  hastily,  girl-like,  in  a  weak 
threat,  but  it  struck  deeper  than  she  knew.  A  super 
stitious  awe  seemed  to  blanch  the  villain's  face.  He 
looked  over  his  shoulder,  as  though  he  feared  she  had 
seen  some  specter  in  the  ruin  behind  him. 

"Ain't  thar  a  boss  all  saddled  fer  ye;  wat  makes 
wimmin  so  tickler,  anyway?"  He  seemed  willing 
enough  not  to  provoke  what  charm  her  purity  might 
have  with  unseen  spirits,  ;md  permitted  her  to  lead  the 
mare  to  a  stump  and  seat  herself  in  the  saddle.  Wav 
ing  his  hand,  one  Indian  took  the  lead,  the  other  the 
rear,  placing  their  captive  in  line  between  them.  Cart- 
wright,  with  a  leap,  crossed  his  mustang,  and  after  a 
glance  at  his  rifle,  he  looked  up. 

"  Git !  "  he  growled  ;  and  as  they  moved  off  he  fol 
lowed. 

Just  then  the  young  teamster,  Legs,  made  his  way 
through  the  shrubbery.  Hearing  the  voice  of  his  for 
mer  boss,  and  shrinking  with  fright  at  what  he  saw,  he 
crawled  behind  a  stump  to  rest  his  rifle.  It  was  a  sight 
to  have  unnerved  the  bravest  heart  in  camp.  The  sur 
prising  boldness  of  the  kidnapper,  and  the  danger  of 
the  girl,  so  well-beloved,  would  have  flurried  the  best 
among  them.  Legs  raised  his  gun  and  leveled  it,  but 
as  he  ranged  on  the  thief,  the  sight-line  led  to  Mary 
further  on ;  he  changed  place  for  better  aim,  but  Cart- 


THE  PIRATES  CAPTURE.  59 

wrigjit  in  a  rambling  gait,  seemed  to  shift  his  form  so 
as  to  expose  her  to  an  unsteady  shot.  The  boy's  wits 
forsook  him,  his  hands  trembled,  and  the  distance  from 
his  mark  rapidly  widened.  Down  the  ravine,  over  a 
path  leading  to  the  river  growing  wider  and  smoother, 
the  thief  and  his  party  quickened  pace.  The  teamster 
sprang  to  his  feet,  fled  to  the  camp,  shouting  his 
shrill  alarm. 

In  the  grasp  of  Cheviteau  the  boy  dealt  a  hard,  fell 
blow  in  the  words  he  uttered.  The  old  man  staggered 
back  ;  there  was  frantic  haste  in  talk  of  the  men  around 
him,  and  the  women  circled  about  the  form  of  Lu,  who 
had  fainted.  Chloe  went  about  clapping  her  hands, 
frenzied  at  the  fault  of  having  prophesied  truly,  and 
the  crowd  began,  one  and  all,  to  wear  the  look  of  des 
perate  men. 

"  Mount,  boys  ;  I'll  give  a  thousand  to  the  one  —  " 
said  the  trader,  gaining  strength  and  voice.  For  this 
little  moment  Beck  stood  apart,  stung  to  the  quick  of 
his  free,  unfettered  nature,  and  with  pained  impatience 
in  his  face,  he  strode  into  the  group. 

"  Stop  !  "  It  was  a  stern  command,  and  there  was 
silence  ;  "don't  budge  an  inch  ;  not  a  man." 

"  What  fer,  John  Beck  ?  "  hurriedly  asked  Cheviteau, 
flushed  with  anger. 

fr  Leave  it  to  me  ;  I'll  bring  her  back.  Don't  you 
see  what  the  hell-cat  is  after?  He'd  draw  the  whole 
camp  out,  to  steal  in  and  burn  down  the  settlement. 
Don't  you  see  his  dodge  ?  A  crowd  will  make  him  hide. 
If  I  ain't  back  in  three  days,  follow  me  along  the 


60  SNAP. 

Divide.  Double  your  guards  and  hold  the  camp  ;  here, 
"Whack  and  Jump,  get  ready ;  I  want  the  big  sorrel 
for  the  trip." 

The  boys  had  been  silenced,  for  the  wit's-end  in 
youth  is  in  facing  sudden  fright.  Beck's  forte  was  to 
do  the  right  thing  at  the  right  time  and  place  ;  he  kneAV 
what  to  seek,  what  to  avoid ;  there  was  scarcely  any 
thing  he  could  not  endure. 

"  Which  horse  for  me  ?  "  asked  Whack. 

tf  The  roan  ;  give  Jump  the  grey  ;  both  have  bottom 
and  speed  ;  arm  yourselves  ;  thar'll  be  lively  times,  I 
reckon.  Heah,"  he  went  on,  motioning  to  the  team 
ster  who  brought  the  news ;  "  which  way  did  Cart- 
wright  head  ?  " 

"Down  the  crick  to  the  river." 

"  To  the  river,"  he  muttered,  walking  fast ;  "  then 
he'll  hide." 

At  the  house,  Lu  was  attended  by  Chloe  and  Mrs. 
Garrulson,  and  the  stories  of  the  latter  of  similar  trials, 
distorted  from  a  supple  memory,  had  in  a  measure 
composed  her ;  but  on  seeing  Beck  she  ran  to  him 
tearfully,  wringing  her  little  white  hands. 

"Will  they  kill  her,  Mister  Beck?  Oh,  my,  what 
will  we  all  do?  Now  she's  gone  we  all  know  what 
it  is  to  be  without  her  !  Oh,  Mollie,  Mollie  !  " 

"Keep  heart,  chile;  thar'll  be  no  killin  of  her,  I 
reckon.  Somebody  else  iriought  get  hurt,  if  he  keeps 
on  a  foolin." 

"Will  you  bring  her  back  safe?  Will  you,  Mister 
Beck,  do  tell  me?" 


THE  PIRATE'S  CAPTURE.  61 

"Yes,"  ho  said,  stamping  the  ground  heavily,  "heah, 
to  the  old  porch  again, — cep,  maybe,  —  well,  never 
mind."  He  was  reflecting  that  it  might  cost  his  own 
life,  as  he  made  his  way  to  the  office,  in  haste. 

None  who  stood  in  the  startled  crowd  when  the  hoy's 
cries  brought  all  to  their  feet,  felt  the  force  of  what  the 
lad  said  like  Doctor  Tom  ;  stab-like,  piercing,  it  struck 
his  heart,  and  he  it  was  who  jumped  to  the  trader's 
help,  with  a  brotherly  impulse,  in  kindred  sympathy ; 
he  it  was  who  held  that  the  scout  was  right,  who 
stilled  the  rising  rage  to  reason  ;  for  he  felt  that  the 
cool,  sturdy  sense  of  Beck  was  the  surety  of  Mary's 
rescue. 

"  Save  your  advice,  it's  out  of  place  here,"  he  replied, 
snappishly,  to  the  Judge,  and  turned  about  to  aid  the 
men  in  mounting. 

The  scout  was  ready ;  he  caught  up  his  rifle, 
strapped  it  over  his  shoulder,  with  his  powder-horn 
and  pouch  ;  then  belting  his  blouse  he  spoke  to  the 
boys  who  had  joined  him. 

"  Sling  your  pieces ;  the  nags  must  be  let  out, 
and  you'll  want  both  hands  ;  get  blankets  ;  we'll  be 
off." 

The  Colonel  galloped  up  with  the  horses.  Then 
came  the  order  to  mount,  as  Beck  threw  himself  into 
the  saddle,  drawing  a  strong  check  on  his  sorrel. 

"Let  out,  lads."  There  was  a  rasping  sound  of 
hoofs,  then  each  sprang  forward. 

"Give  'em  head,  and  spur  deep  till  daybreak," 
called  out  the  old  man,  as  he  stood  straining  his  sight 


62 

on  the  fading  forms  speeding  away  over  the  prairie, 
his  heart  gleamless  as  the  blackness  coining  on.  As 
the  darkness  deepened,  the  voice  of  the  guard  was 
heard  : 

"  Nine-o'-gluck ;  ull-ish-rycht !  "--"  All  is  right,"— 
it  mocked  him,  painfully. 

The  kidnapper  signed  to  the  dusky  thief  in  the  lead 
to  take  a  shadow-covered  trail  along  the  river  bank 
under  the  bluff,  and  pursuing  it,  they  soon  came  upon 
a  drift-wood  barrier  at  the  font  of  a  beetling  cliff. 
Here  he  broke  his  way  through  the  stubble,  and  they 
entered  a  dark,  water-drenched  cave  and  dismounted. 
Cartwright  left  them  huddled  together  in  the  gloom, 
warned  to  silence,  and  hastily  turning  back  to  where 
the  debris  had  been  upturned  and  thrown  aside,  he  re- 
closed  the  passage  so  as  to  deceive  the  best  practised  eye. 
It  was  the  trick  of  a  fox,  but  the  visage  of  the  man  was 
that  of  a  wolf,  as  he  stretched  himself  at  the.  cave- 
mouth,  peering  through  the  brush.  There  he  awaited 
the  later  moon-lit  hours,  hoping  to  wear  away  the  pry 
of  a  search. 

On  his  horse,  Beck,  in  the  full  liberty  of  action,  — 
a  recklessness  of  freedom,  — fed  the  strongest  passion 
of  his  nature.  If  not  at  times,  genial  as  a  companion, 
he  was  always  a  spirited  guide,  and  to  return  Mary 
safely,  upon  the  bond  of  his  word,  lent  a  glorious 
frenzy  to  his  ride.  As  he  and  his  comrades  dashed  on 
through  the  perfumed  shade,  the  hoof-strokes  stirring 
the  odors  of  the  sod,  he  spoke  to  them  often. 


THE  PIRATES  CAPTURE.  63 

"Lean  forward,  boys,  and  set  easy  for  a  long  run." 
At  the  haunted  cabin  they  drew  up. 

"  Whack,"  he  said,  as  they  were  about  to  separate, 
"you  and  Jump  keep  right  on, —  hipitisplit.  Mind 
what  I've  told  you,  boy.  I'll  strike  back  to  the  river- 
line — the  wolf  thinks  we've  opened  on  a  wrong  scent — 
and  I'll  drive  him  out,  and  follow,  Avhileyou  must  cross 
him.  So  long."  Speaking  sharply  to  his  horse,  he 
was  soon  out  of  siffkt. 

e-/ 

The  scout  felt  sure  that  Cartwright  did  not  dare  to 
take  a  straight  course,  to  be  seen  from  the  post  on  the 
wide  open  prairie,  and  that  he  had  dodged ;  that  his 
round-about  circuit  would  be  by  the  river,  thence  to 
the  Divide  by  another  road,  and  his  own  plan  was  to 
hang  close  on  the  other's  heels,  trail  him,  follow  him 
out  of  the  valley  to  where  the  boys  would  confront 
him  at  the  cross-road,  on  the  ridge.  He  dashed  out  of 
the  darkness  of  the  ravine,  rode  to  the  bluff-line,  and 
drew  rein.  He  had  drawn  up  above  the  hiding-place 
of  the  thief. 

Mary  stood  in  the  narrow  prison,  watched  and 
warned  by  the  fierce,  furtive  glances  of  the  redskins, 
and  hardly  dared  to  breathe.  The  stillness  was  un 
broken,  save  by  the  seething  of  the  pools  or  the 
buzz  of  the  gnats.  Now,  in  the  light  of  the  rising 
moon  she  saw  the  distant  outlook,  the  outstretched 
arms  of  the  grove-trees,  but  she  closed  her  eyes  and 
pressed  her  hands  hard  upon  her  heart. 

In  his  ambush,  holding  his  horse's  head,  Beck  kept  a 
long,  silent  watch.  At  last,  in  his  steady  search,  he 


64 

saw  below  him  on  the  river-brink,  forms  moving 
stealthily  in  the  shadow ;  he  saw  them  mount  and 
steal  away.  On  sight  he  knew  them.  Beck  had  once 
seen  the  cave,  and  his  instinct  led  him  to  it;  now  he 
counted  the  riders  as  they  took  the  trail.  He  was 
astride  his  thoroughbred  in  abound,  and  with  the  speed 
of  the  wind  vanished  from  the  bluff. 

The  Indians  turned  often  to  look  back,  but  not  a 
word  was  spoken  ;  the  thief  merely  motioned  and  they 
pressed  on  for  hours.  Hiding  into  a  clearing  or  park, 
in  the  river-bend,  he  signed  to  them  to  dismount.  The 
place  was  a  deserted  post ;  a  few  rotting  sheds  marked 
the  spot  where  the  fortunes  of  some  trader  had  been 
wrecked  in  a  night,  the  treachery  of  the  swift  current 
forming  a  sand-bar,  and  cutting  off  approach  to  the 
landing.  Here  a  grass-grown  road  diverged  towards 
the  Divide. 

Mary  permitted  the  ruffian's  shoulder  to  support  her 
as  she  jumped  down ;  not  that  she  was  less  resolute 
nor  he  less  repulsive  to  her,  but  from  a  hard  ride 
weariness,  needing  aid  ;  and  as  her  hand  fell  listlessly, 
it  touched  the  handle  of  his  sheath-knife  ;  there  was  a 
quick  movement,  and  the  blade  unnoticed  slipped  into 
her  dress  pocket. 

The  animals  were  allowed  a  drink  and  a  roll,  and  the 
thief  stretched  himself  likewise  on  the  hard  gravel. 
He  sprang  up  to  lave  his  face  at  the  river's  brink,  and 
wetting  his  throat  from  a  flask,  he  gave  his  pals  a  bite 
of  hard  bread  and  jerky,  then  ordered  them  off. 

Kit  swayed  down  to   receive  Mary  in  the  saddle. 


THE  PIRATE'S  CAPTURE.  G5 

Folding  the  blanket  about  her  head  and  shoulders  she 
rode  to  her  place  between  the  Indians  ;  on  a  sign  they 
turned  into  a  road.  Mary  had  listened  for  a  eheering 
sound,  for  she  knew  that  Beck  would  throw  his  very 
soul  into  the  pursuit.  But  the  silence  gave  no  token. 

They  had  ridden  far  and  fast,  through  the  night, 
when  another  halt  was  gruffly  ordered  at  a  spring  by 
the  wayside  ;  it  gushed  forth  from  a  thick  growth  of 
tangled  weeds  and  briars,  upon  which  the  moonlight 
streamed. 

."Ef  yer  want  a  drink,  cold  as  ice,  thar  it  is,"  said 
the  pirate,  and  he  bade  Mary  get  down  and  wait  till  he 
filled  a  horn-flask.  He  was  groping  among  the  brambles 
to  the  fountain-head,  when  suddenly  a  loud,  wierd 
scream  rang  out  on  the  still  bright  air ;  a  scream  as  of 
some  fiend  in  the  caves  of  earth,  shrieking  to  forbid  the 
wretch's  touch  upon  its  waters.  All  at  once  there 
rose  in  the  light  a  tall,  gaunt,  spectral  form,  almost 
fleshless ;  a  ghastly,  ghostly  figure  madly  threw  up  its 
naked  arms,  and  its  white  locks  and  beard,  matted  and 
snarled,  fell  about  it  like  a  vesture.  Springing  to  full 
height,  its  shape,  clad  in  patches  of  cloth  and  blanket, 
the  long  bony  fingers  tugged  at  a  girdle  for  a  weapon, 
and  finding  none,  tore  its  hair  in  frenzy. 

"  Back,  back,  you  lip-lapping  cayote  ;  hell's  curses 
on  YOU,  go  back  !  "  then  the  nightmare  vanished,  creep 
ing  in  the  brush  like  a  beast  of  prey. 

One  Indian  touched  his  forehead  and  both  were 
silent,  and  as  Mary  glanced  down  at  her  feet  she  saw 
Cartwright  crouching  there,  a  frightened  animal.  She 


66 

had  heard  of  the  wild  man,  and  knew  the  fear  of  him 
which  many  held. 

"It  ar  the  dead,  the  dead,"  the  pirate  whispered  in 
a  coarse  voice,  large  drops  of  sweat  standing  on  his 
face^  as  he  covered  it  with  his  hands.  "1  kent  shake 
it ;  its  bar  is  like  windin-sheet,  and  its  eyes  like  Texas 
cattle's." 

Wrapped  in  the  same  bright  beams,  wherein  the 
hideous  shade  had  risen,  Mary's  form  and  face  like  a 
fair  spirit's  seemed  to  guard  the  peace  of  the  night. 

rf  Vengeance  is  on  your  track,  Bill  Cartwright ;  will 
you  hear  me?  You  can  be  better,  braver,  bad  as  you 
are." 

A  drink  from  a  liquor-flask  had  called  back  his 
courage. 

"Don't  yer  preach  ;  that  I  hates  the  wus  kind  ;  ef  I 
are  a  bad  man  kent  yer  keep  shet  about  it?  Mount," 
he  called  out,  savagely. 

And  Beck  had  seen  it  all  not  a  fathom's  length  away 
from  Mary  ;  he  stared  at  her  with  an  earnest,  loyal 
look  from  his. shelter  behind  a  rock. 

The  kidnappers  rode  on  under  the  far-reaching  si<rht 
of  the  scout,  who  saw  them  at  a  long  distance  disap 
pear  in  a  grove.  Never  before  was  the  contrast 
stronger  between  the  man's  power  and  patience,  his 
ease  and  vigilance,  as  when  he  loosed  his  horse,  and  in 
the  love  of  his  wild  life,  he  was  off  like  a  flash.  His 
course  was  at  an  angle  from  the  road  to  the  lower  out- 
skirt  of  the  little  wood,  in  which  the  thief's  party  dis 
appeared.  Where  the  thicket-growth  hid  him,  lie  rode 


THE  PIRATE'S   CAPTURE.  67 

fiercely,  or  when  screened  by  the  high,  moss-grown 
rocks,  he  held  his  horse  hard,  in  a  furious  quest,  yet 
noiselessly,  and  only  the  birds  und  r  the  leaves  knew 
of  his  presence.  He  got  down,  tied  up,  threw 
a  blanket  over  his  nag's  head,  then  crawled  near 
enough  to  search  the  grove.  What  he  saw  in  the  faint 
light  of  the  dawn  made,  his  brave  heart  for  once  stand 
still. 

Meantime  the  young  aides  of  the  scout  were  rising 
from  the  springy  soil  of  the  valley,  and  Hearing  the  top 
of  a  ridge.  Known  as  the  Great  Divide,  by  some  called 
the  Big  Backbone,  it  ran  obliquely  across  the  plateau 
of  the  prairie,  contrived  to  serve  the  needs  of  traffic. 
From  its  hard  gravel  the  hoof-clatter  echoed  back  upon 
the  silent  lowland,  as  they  sped  along,  leaving  behind 
landmarks  that  noted  their  speed. 

"You  see,"  said  Whack,  "they've  got  water  handy 
to  freshen  up  on,"  he  spurred  his  horse  and  the  two 
increased  their  speed. 

"  What  road  has  Bill  taken  ? "  asked  Jumper,  not 
knowing  the  course  laid  down  for  them  to  follow. 

lie's  taken  the  river  road,  we  reckon,  but  will  turn 
sharp  for  the  west,  and  on  this  trail,  further  on,  we'll 
cross  him,  while  Beck  conies  up  in  the  rear.  They're 
three,  and  we're  three,  the  best  must  win  ;  can  you 
count  that  up,  old  pen-scratcher?  Draw  up,  Jump, 
we'll  let  'em  champ  the  grass  a  mi  nit ;  "  the  boys  got 
down  and  stripped  their  animals. 

Jump  pointed  to  a  rock  jutting  out  from  the  hillside, 
"there's  water  there,  let's  get  behind  it." 


68  SNAP. 

"You  see  right  well,  for  a  bookkeeper,  in  the  dark  ; 
if  water  was  at  the  root  of  the  grass,  it  would  be  high 
as  your  shoulder,  but  —  "he  stopped  short,  grasping 
his  companion's  arm  ;  "  listen,"  he  whispered. 

Above  the  hum  of  the  mites,  the  drone  of  the  beetle, 
a  sound,  at  first  far  off,  seemed  to  draw  nearer,  quickly. 
Loud  voices  were  heard,  broken  by  laughter  and  the 
jingle  of  spurs. 

"  Look  to  your  horse  and  traps,  Jump  ;  "  in  another 
moment  they  were  hidden  behind  the  rock;  "stand 
close  in,  take  a  turn  of  your  lariat  round  your  horse's 
nose  ;  are  you  ready  ?  " 

"Yes,"  answered  the  other. 

r?  Throw  your  blanket  over  his  head  ;  take  care  — 
easy  ;  hold  tight,  lay  your  left  hand  near  his  nose  ;  — 
right." 

Now,  close  at  hand,  the  tramp  of  hoofs  and  jingling 
of  spurs  were  heard,  and  a  voice,  high  above  all,  cried 
loudly  : 

"  Hi,  mula !  vamo,  carajo  ! "  as  a  pack-train  was 
driven  furiously  past  their  retreat. 

"  H-sh,  "  cautioned  Whack  ;  after  a  while  he  added, 
aloud,  "  they've  gone  down  to  the  valley  on  the  other 
side." 

"  How  do  you  know  ?  " 

"Can't  you  foot  up  that;  oh,  you're  a  jumper;  if 
they  were  scratching  gravel  on  the  road  wouldn't  you 
hear 'em  ;  well,  as  you  don't  hear  'em  on  the  road, 
they  must  be  off  it ;  that's  the  sum  total,  rooster  ;  "  the 
sounds  grew  fainter  and  fainter. 


THE  PIRATE'S   CAPTURE.  69 

"What  kind  of  gang-  is  it,  anyway,  Whack?" 

"  Land-pirates,  certain  ;  some  train  has  been  robbed 
since  nightfall ;  Injins  do  the  stealing  and  these  cusses 
buy  from  them  ;  they  must  have  a  crib  not  far  off,  and 
what  puzzles  me  is,  these  Mexicans  so  far  from  their 
bee-line  along  the  Divide,  and  so  far  east ;  but  let's 
mount ;  we've  got  no  time  for  cyphering." 

"  Why  did  you  blindfold  the  horses?" 

"  Blindfold  'em  !  "  Whack  laughed  outright ;  "that'll 
do  for  apen-plower  ;  they  were  muzzled,  gummy  ;  you 
see,  Jump,  if  one  horse  sees  another  in  the  night,  he'll 
whinny,  sure;  well,  the  blanket  stops  all  that,  if  you 
hold  it  tight  about  his  nose ;  and,  if  he  can'-t  see,  he's 
got  sense  enough  to  stand  still.  Cover  your  rifle-cock 
from  the  damp ;  if  it  misses,  somebody  at  the  other 
end  of  it  mightn't  miss  you  ;  it  makes  a  big  difference, 
Jump." 

Once  more  upon  the  hard,  white  road  they  spurred 
on,  and  crossing  a  creek,  they  again  ascended  to  the 
highway,  and  held  their  pace  till  daylight. 

"  Here's  the  cross  road,  at  last,  Jump  ;  see,  it  comes 
up  out  of  the  valley ;  we'll  tie  up  here,  till  Beck  is 
heard  from." 

On  the  lower  side  of  a  briar-wood  clump  they  found 
water,  and  there  unsaddled.  As  Whack  turned  to  re 
gain  the  ridge,  looking  up  he  saw  in  the  dim,  morning 
light,  the  lean  ghost  which  had  crossed  the  path  of  Cart- 
wright.  He  whispered  to  his  companion  : 

"It's  the  wild  man  of  the  wilderness,  and  I'll  speak 
to  him." 


70  SNAP. 

"Has  he  any  sense?  "  asked  Jump,  very  naturally. 

"Sometimes  plenty  of  it ;  he's  mad  on  one  thing 
only ;  and  hangs  about  the  trains  praying  like  a  beg 
gar  for  a  knife  or  gun  ;  he  never  gets  one.  Wait." 

With  hands  uplifted,  the  poor  distraught  inveighed 
against  the  vipers  of  the  earth,  the  wolves  in  sheep's 
clothing.  Again  he  spoke  in  altered  voice,  tenderly, 
as  one  in  sane  mood  would  to  a  wife  or  child,  and  he, 
to  some  dear  vision  of  his  memory.  Whack  laid  his 
hand  upon  the  creature's  shoulder,  speaking  kindly,  in 
the  vein  of  his  mania. 

"  Be  strong  to  fight  your  enemies  ;  come  man,  and 
eat ;  "  the  lunatic  followed  him  without  a  word.  At  the 
spring  the  boys  gave  him  bread,  and  Whack,  in  the 
same  strain,  to  denote  that  he  shared  the  wretch's  sor 
rows  in  his  own,  spoke  again,  slowly. 

"My  sister  has  been  stolen,  and  our  home  is  broken 
up." 

On  the  instant  the  wild  man  threw  away  his  bread 
and  sprang  to  his  feet;  staring  hard,  he  seized  the 
speaker's  arm. 

"  Come  here  !  come  here  !  "  he  screamed,  dragging 
Whack  at  his  heels.  On  the  highway,  shading  his 
eyes  with  trembling  hands,  he  at  last  pointed  to  the 
valley. 

"See  the  smoke,  yonder  aAvay?" 

The  other,  straining  his  «;aze  as  the  morning  mist 

o  o  o 

like  a  curtain  rolled  up  in  the  distance,  was  able  to  trace 
a  curl  of  blue  vapor,  rising  slowly. 
"I  see  it." 


THE  PIRATE'S  CAPTURE,  71 

"It's  the  smoke  from  hell's  hot-house,"  roared  the 
tramp;  "there  the  serpents  writhe  in  and  out,  —  in 
and  out;  go  there,  you'll  find  her;  I  saw  her  in  the 
night ;  he  took  her  there." 

"  Who  took  her  there  ?  "  exclaimed  the  young  man 
excitedly. 

"  The  fiend ,  the  robber  ;  the  lion  which  devours  ;  the 
tiger  with  his  prey ;  the  devil  and  his  whelps,  Bill 
Cart wright ;  go  there,  you'll  find  the  gal ;  give  me  a 
gun,  I'll  go." 

"  I  have  no  gun  to  give  you,  my  good  friend,  but,  —  " 
before  he  answered  the  vagrant  was  gone,  running 
wildly  ;  his  arms  cleaving  the  air,  his  voice  that  of  loud 
supplication. 

"  Smite  !  smite  !  oh,  ye  hosts.  Let  down  the  ven 
geance  held  in  wrath  :  vengeance,  vengeance  !  " 

"  Come  quick,  Jump,"  and  when  they  stood  together, 
Whack  said  : 

"  Mary  Cheviteau  is  yonder,  in  that  grove,  down  in 
the  valley." 

"There's  where  the  pirates  headed  for,  I  reckon." 

"True  enough;  they  crossed  lower  down,  but  bore 
away  for  that  crib  ;  poor  Mary  ! " 

"  What  will  you  do  ?  " 

"Wait  for  Beck,  if  we  wait  till  doomsday;  come 
here." 

Whack  pointed  to  a  rock-mound  near  by,  hidden  and 
shaded,  and  there  the  boys,  leveling  their  pieces 
ranged  on  the  valley  road,  stretched  themselves,  wait 
ing  and  watching. 


72 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE    SCOUT'S    RESCUE. 

THE  Mexican  packers  who  rode  the  fierce  scamper 
over  the  Divide,  were,  as  Whack  believed,  a  gang  of 
train-robbers  fresh  from  the  haunts  of  plunder.  They 
were  bearing  its  fruits  to  their  crib,  from  whence  the 
smoke  ascended.  This  den,  built  of  heavy,  squared 
logs,  circled  by  a  brushwood  shelter,  was  hidden  in  a 
close,  thick-set  brush-growth.  A  boundary  of  rocks, 
overgrown  with  the  high  grass  of  summer,  enclosed 
the  grove.  The  place  was  made  to  serve  as  a  store 
house  for  stolen  goods,  bought  up  by  train-robbers 
from  thieving  Indians.*  The  captain  of  this  bold  gang, 
from  the  far  south-west  —  a  young,  saffron-colored 
cut-throat,  was  a  rogue  of  the  Spanish  type  ;  a  crafty 
but  trifling  chief,  and  was  obeyed  by  his  gang  as  best 
suited  their  moods.  Not  so  his  slave-wife  Josefina, 
ordered  to  hasten  breakfast,  who  heeded  his  command, 
at  once. 

The  pirates  unloaded  their  packs  while  their  leader, 

*  Collusion  with  Indians  in  the  nefarious  business  of  ox-train 
robbery  by  bands  of  desperate  thieves,  is  well  known.  The  use  of 
a  pack-train  for  such  a  purpose  was  not  common,  but  several  well 
authenticated  stories  are  told  of  their  use  in  this  way. 


THE  SCOUTS  RESCUE.  73 

caressing  his  mule,  made  a  singular  show  of  affection 
and  malice,  which  the  Mexican  contrives  to  heap  upon 
his  beast. 

"Companion  of  mine,  friend  of  my  soul,"  he  said, 
kissing  the  shaggy  face  of  the  ugly  hybrid. 

"Beautiful  as  a  girl,  my  heart;"  still  patting  the 
neck  and  the  dark  cruciform  on  the  spine  and 
shoulders. 

"You  little,  little  mouse.''  This  he  meant  for  its 
size  and  color,  also  the  wide  difference  from  the  Amer 
ican  breed,  in  lighter  and  swifter  limbs,  and  a  play 
fulness  less  rash  in  the  rear  foot. 

While  he  talked,  his  manner  changed  from  a  mild 
rebuke  to  tragic  blasphemy ;  wherein  the  backbones 
and  toenails  of  all  the  saints  in  the  calendar  were 
invoked  with  fearful  oaths,  and  the  pet  of  the  moment 
before  became  the  pitiful  victim  of  the  lash. 

Suddenly  the  crowd  sent  up  a  loud,  lewd  noise  of 
jabber  and  shout,  laughter  and  jest, 'when  Cartwright, 
his  pals  and  the  captive  rode  into  their  camp.  It  was 
a  welcome  out  of  joint,  for  without  a  word  the  kid 
napper  dismounted.  He  had  no  thought  of  meeting 
the  gang  at  such  a  time  ;  the  theft  of  Mary  was  not  a 
crime  in  common,  and  he  was  quite  proud  to  feel  that 
it  was  his  own,  of  his  own  peculiar  dash,  and  for  his 
own  pockets,  only.  Sullenly  he  gave  his  horse  in 
charge  of  the  Indians,  and  held  Kit  as  Mary 
alighted. 

Glancing  at  the  swarm  of  cut-throats  who  eyed  her 
keenly,  her  spirits  wavered,  almost  hopelessly.  Brave 


74  SNAP. 

as  she  was,  she  felt  deeply  the  wrench  of  fate  ;  looks 
were  set  upon  her  that  she  feared  less  than  .-he  abhor 
red,  and  it  was  a  pitiful  strait  for  so  good,  so  true  a 
nature.  Trial  sharpened  every  emotion ;  the  faee  of 
her  mother  was  an  ever-present  vision  ;  the  voiee  of 
her  father  rang  in  her  ears,  and  the  manly  form  of 
Beck  was  remembered  as  of  one  among  the  dead. 

Little  she  knew  or  thought,  as  with  an  effort  of  the 
will  she  turned  her  face  sternly  to  defy  the  worst,  that 
the  eyes  of  him  whose  shadow  seemed  to  fade  away, 
were  bent  upon  her  with  a  glaring  gaze.  He  stared  in 
upon  the  scene  that  for  an  instant  stilled  every  pulse 
of  his  being.  Prone,  at  full  length,  peering  along  the 
barrel  of  his  rifle  through  a  rocky  crevice,  he  felt  his 
muscles  twitch  and  spring ;  his  hand  tightened  as  he 
saw  the  tears,  in  a  brief  outburst,  course  the  beauty- 
lines  of  Mary's  check  ;  he  thrilled,  strained,  bit  his  lip 
deeply,  but  still  he  watched  and  waited. 

Josefina,  the  round-faced,  copper-hued  woman,  in 
the  forties  of  her  frail  years,  whose  saucy  mouth  and 
fine  teeth  gave  a  generous  touch  to  a  happy  look,  sat 
near  by.  She  was  coaxing  the  damp  chips  to  blaze, 
and  the  smoke  therefrom  was  the  far-away  sign  pointed 
out  to  Whack  by  the  wild  man.  Now  and  then  she 
turned  to  scan  the  sad  features  of  the  girl  before  her, 
a  little  jealously,  for  with  a  toss  of  her  turban  she  as 
much  as  said  : 

"  As  the  looks  of  me, —  no,  no  ;  —  me  of  the  fandan 
go,  she  of  the  whiter  kind,  the  Mother's  child, —  no  — 


THE  SCOUTS  RESCUE.  75 

no ;  "  if  piqued  for  the  instant,  she  curbed  the  feeling 
smilingly  as  she  sang  : 

"Las  ninas  del  Durango, 
Conmigo  bailandos 
Al  cielo  saltaudas 
En  el  fandango  —  en  el  fanclang." 

While  Cartwright,  having  led  the  mare  off,  was 
pinning  her  picket  rope  in  a  park  near  the  skirt  of  the 
wood,  the  Mexicans  had  drawn  round  the  cook  and 
her  companion.  It  was  well  that  the  ears  of  Mary 
were  dumb  to  the  loose  words  that  fell  from  their  lips, 
when  the  dandy  captain  strode  up  to  where  she  sat, 
and  without  warning,  touched  her  cheek.  So  bold  an 
insult  in  effect  was  as  fire  to  powder.  Springing  to 
her  feet,  her  burning  face  aglow,  she  drew  the  knife 
and  held  it  raised  : 

"  Stop  !  "  The  one  word  only,  spoken  loudly,  calmly, 
coldly,  and  the  ruffian  drew  back. 

Beck  was  on  his  feet  ready  to  fire  ;  his  form  erect, 
quivering.  He  took  deadly  aim  at  the  villain's  head  ; 
prudence  to  the  winds,  he  was  ready  for  the  grapple 
hand  to  hand,  but  the  voice  of  Cartwright  stayed  him. 
In  the  pause  of  the  instant,  Mary's  conscience  stirred, 
and  all  womanly,  she  trembled  like  a  leaf. 

Casting  off  his  coat,  with  pistol  drawn,  she  saw  the 
fellow  Hearing  them. 

"Don't  fire,  don't  fire, '"she  had  but  time  to  say. 
He  came  on  with  a  bound,  his  weapon  down,  to  deal  a 
blow  that  might  have  felled  an  ox.  He  struck  the 
insulter  down. 


76  SNAP. 

"  Ahind  my  back  to  crowd  a  little  gal  like  that,  you 
pepper-fed  sneak,"  he  railed,  with  fearful  oaths. 

And  Beck  dropped  his  gun  as  he  drew  back,  mutter 
ing  : 

"Good  enough;  so  Mary's  safe,  and  now  you're 
cock  of  that  heap,  Bill ;  I  know  you." 

"Don't  you  be  afeerd,  gal,"  said  the  boss,  as  kindly 
as  he  knew  how  ;  and  then  he  beckoned  to  his  redskins. 
Very  soon  thereafter  they  rode  away  on  their  ponies, 
and  the  Mexicans,  forewarned,  feared  the  man.  They 
knew,  should  they  slay  him,  before  the  day  was  done 
a  tribe  would  hound  them  to  a  bloodier  fate.  And  the 
knave  went  among  them  fearlessly,  talked  of  plunder 
and  passed  round  his  flask  ;  nor  was  it  long  before  the 
stricken  bully  swallowed  his  wrath  on  easy  terms,  and 
played  the  dog  for  a  drink. 

Cartwright  was  surprised  on  meeting  the  pack-train 
at  the  crib,  and  more  so  the  scout,  with  a  sharp  and 
strange  alarm.  The  riddle  worked  out  was  this.  The 
boss  had  sent  to  the  south-west  border  for  the  Mexicans 
to  come  to  him  at  a  rendezvous  named.  He  had  con 
spired  with  the  tribe  whose  lands  were  in  sight  of  the 
post,  and  had  led  it  on  thieving  raids.  The  spoil  of 
many  bloody  forays  was  in  its  keeping. 

The  gang  had  bought  Cartwright's  share,  and  the  In 
dians  received  their  portion  of  the  loot,  and  when  the 
trade  was  over  he  warned  the  packers  to  retreat  out  of 
danger  by  the  most  direct  route.  But  word  came-  to 
him  of  the  next  day  barbacue  at  Cheviteau's ;  he  left 
the  Indians  hurriedly  in  quest  of  a  chance  to  serve  his 


THE  SCOUTS  RESCUE.  77 

bitter  hate.  The  Mexicans,  lazily  resting,  held  up 
their  departure  till  the  following  night,  and  then, 
directed  by  the  tribe,  drove  their  train  to  the  crib. 

The  affront  to  Mary  softened  the  heart  of  Josefina ; 
it  melted  in  the  warmth  of  her  rancor  towards  the 
brute,  who  mastered  her  and  who  was  cowardly  to  the 
girl.  In  trouble,  women  are  more  helpful  one  to  another 
than  men,  and  she  prevailed  upon  Mary  to  be  seated  near 
her,  as  she  piled  up  the  tortillas  or  stirred  the  pot-mess, 
reddened  with  pods  of  pepper.  All  the  while,  in  the 
musical  flow  of  the  Spanish,  so  richly  expressive,  she 
prattled,  lovingly. 

"  Come,  dear  little,  little  sister  of  mine  ;  eat,  little 
one ;  little  one,  Josefina,  the  friend  of  you,  says  eat." 

The  words,  though  foreign,  were  seemingly  pure,  as 
also  the  woman's  manner  and  look,  so  that  Mary  was 
won  by  the  gentle  eye  and  by  the  voice  of  sym 
pathy. 

Cartwright  held  the  crowd  in  peace,  planning  his 
villainy,  and  there  was  much  in  his  boldness  which 
drew  his  listeners  closer  as  he  gabbled  a  mongrel 
slang.  But  soon,  as  they  needed  rest,  all  had  stretched 
themselves  under  the  shelter,  save  two,  who,  serving 
as  sentries,  played  cards  while  the  others  slept. 

Mary  bore  up  patiently  with  her  new  friend,  but  her 
head  drooped,  do  what  she  would  to  be  watchful.  At 
last  she  gave  up  and  followed  Josefina  to  the  cabin, 
kneeling  on  the  spread  prepared  for  her  comfort.  Her 
attitude,  as  a  golden  cross  on  the  neck  of  the  woman 
fell  into  her  hand  and  remained  there,  was  such  as  to 


78  SNAP. 

inspire  her  comrade,  to  call  back  to  her  a  faint  remem 
brance  of  better  days,  as  Mary's  prayer  ended  and  her 
eyelids  closed.  Joscfina,  awed  and  chastened  by  the 
contact,  drew  the  wearied  one  closer,  and  pillowed  her 
head,  with  a  kiss. 

"Sleep,  little  gem  of  the  soul  of  me,  in  the  love  ot 
the  cross,  baby,  sleep."  She  sat  for  hours  awake,  re 
vived  by  the  touch  of  virtue. 

Beck  made  a  hasty  search  around  him ;  glancing  at 
the  deserted  camp-fire  and  at  the  sleeping  thieves  under 
the  shelter;  at  Mary,  through  the  open  door;  at  the 
kidnapper  near  by,  clutching  his  rifle  as  he  slept ;  at 
the  card-players  on  guard.  He  crawled  out  of  the 
thicket,  to  the  skirt  of  brambles;  he  loosed  the 
picket-pin  and  girthed  the  blanket  round  his  sorrel. 
For  a  while,  leading  his  horse,  he  crept  along  close 
under  the  rocky  wall,  through  the  brush,  and  then 
he  mounted. 

"They're  too  many  for  me  now,"  he  said,  grasping 
his  rifle,  then  plying  his  spurs  fiist  on  the  flanks,  as  he 
madly  rode  off  towards  the  Divide,  where  he  came 
upon  the  boys  and  called  them  from  their  cover. 

"  Quick,  lads  ;  I've  tracked  'em  to  a  crib  below ; 
she's  grabbed  by  pirates  and  a  tribe  of  Injins ;  they'll 
come  a  boomin  fore  we  know  it."  Whack  and  Jump 
soon  joined  him  with  their  horses,  saddled.  "  Now 
follow  me, "he  said,  leading  his  sorrel  back  again  to  the 
upper  limit  of  the  thicket,  the  boys  at  his  heels  with 
their  nags. 

From    a  painful    dream  Mary  waked,   and    looked 


THE  SCOUTS  RESCUE.  79 

about  her  dazed  and  blinded  by  doubts ;  she  sprang  to 
the  cabin-door,  was  about  to  pass  out,  when  Cartvvright 
met  her.  He  let  her  pass,  but  followed  her  to  the 
camp-fire  ;  he  spoke  roughly,  —  the  sleepy,  stupid 
insolence  after  drink.  He  told  her  whither  he  would 
take  her,  —  to  some  low  bagnio  of  the  heaven-forsaken 
haunts  of  a  Mexican  town, —  and  would  hold  her  there 
till  her  father  ransomed  her.  She  sank  down  by  the 
smouldering  log-heap. 

Beck  and  his  boys  concealed  their  horses,  and  made 
all  safe  with  the  muzzle  and  picket-pin ;  after  which  he 
crept  away  to  a  close-grown  cedar  bush,  nearer  the 
inner  circle  of  the  camp,  and  saw,  through  the  web-like 
cover,  Mary  and  her  captor.  What  moved  him  he 
knew  not,  but  a  quick  impulse,  a  gleam  of  purpose, 
turned  him  back  to  his  aides  to  direct  them  as  his  plan 
was  forming.  He  stationed  Whack  on  the  right, 
Jump  on  the  left,  each  in  his  own  ambush  and  in  sight, 
having  agreed  upon  signals. 

There  came  a  pause,  an  endless  minute  to  the 
spies,  in  which  Beck  seemed  unnerved,  bewildered,  as 
he  discovered  Kitty  near  at  hand.  All  at  once,  as  the 
boys  watched  him,  like  a  flash  his  face  colored,  lie 
whistled  very  low  to  the  mare,  and  she  pricked  her 
oars;  he  whistled  again  and  again,  in  his  old,  familiar 
way,  and  the  docile  little  beast  neighed,  stamped, 
pulling  hard  on  the  lariat.  The  scout  kept  his  eye  on 
Cart-wright ;  he  saw  Mary  point  to  Kitty,  and  by  her 
motions  to  tell  of  the  mare's  hunger.  His  heart  quiv 
ered  as  he  hoped  the  man  would  come  near  the  grasp 


80  SNAP. 

of  his  hand  ;  he  looked  and  saw  instead,  Mary  rise,  and 
in  a  rapid  walk  start  towards  them ;  then,  with  a  hope 
ful,  manly  smile,  his  face  at  once  brightened.  He 
si^iied  to  the  boys,  in  rapid  movements  of  hands  and 
body,  to  aim  at  the  thief;  they  leveled  their  pieces; 
he  signed  again  to  fire  if  he  followed  her  ;  then  he  knelt 
by  the  edge  of  the  bush.  Never  in  all  the  adventures 
of  his  brave  life  had  he  felt  such  a  feverish  longing  ;  his 
breath  came  by  starts  in  the  spasms  of  emotion. 

None  but  a  strong,  devout  woman  could  have  played 
Mary's  part ;  she  played  it  grandly.  As  she  drew 
nearer  and  nearer,  almost  near  enough  for  Beck's  arms 
to  clasp  her,  he  uttered  a  strong,  calm  whisper : 

"  H-s-h  !  —  it's  me  —  John  Beck  ;  look  at  the  mare 
— straight  ahead." 

She  started,  drew  up  to  her  full  height,  came  on, 
as  a  gleam  of  hope  shone  in  the  sweet,  young  face, 
flickering  like  the  shade  and  shine  of  an  April  morn 
ing. 

«  H-s-h  !— lead  Kit  behind  this  bush  —  I'll  save  you  ;" 
he  signed  to  the  boys  to  join  him. 

Near  ing  the  mare,  Mary  turned,  motioned  to  Cart- 
wright  that  she  would  lead  the  animal  to  graze  further 
on,  —  the  perfection  of  acting  and  courage  combined. 
She  slowly  untied  the  lariat,  made  a  noose  round  the 
nose,  turned  the  hiding-place  of  the  scout;  turned  and 
stood  at  his  side. 

He  grasped  her  in  his  arms,  seized  the  rope,  and  in 
another  moment  he  was  astride  the  mare,  clasping 
Mary ;  he  whispered  to  the  boys  to  follow,  riding 


THE  SCOUTS  RESCUE.  81 

under  the  thicket  shielding  them,  till  they  reached  the 
ridge. 

"Quick,  now;  help  Mary  up  behind  me  on  the 
sorrel ;  mount  and  lead  the  mare  ;  hold  tight." 

"  Look  back,"  cried  Whack,  riding  to  the  lead.  The 
scout  turned  his  eyes  to  the  for  distance. 

"  It's  the  Injins  Cartwright  sent  for ;  spur  deep." 

The  riders  spared  not,  voice  nor  spur,  in  that  race 
for  life  along  the  Big  Backbone. 

On  the  Divide  the  gang  saw  far  away  the  tribe 
approaching  in  a  run ;  but  the  delay  widened  the  dis 
tance  between  the  scout  and  the  thief,  and  gave  the 
former's  party  the  chance  of  a  slip. 

They  had  ridden  hard  for  miles  when  Beck  turned  in 
his  saddle  to  call  a  halt  at  the  top  of  a  hill  declining  to 
a  creek. 

"The  beasts  can't  stand  this  lightnin,  let's  clown  and 
swap.  We  must  keep  Kit  fresh;  swab  out  their 
mouths,  Whack,  and  give  em  a  swallow ;  how  do  you 
stand  it,  Mary  ?  " 

"Well  enough,  I  hope,  Mister  John, "she  replied,  as 
she  hardly  dared  to  discourage  her  friends,  though 
almost  ready  to  drop  with  fatigue. 

"That's  the  way  to  talk;  you'll  make  a  scout  yet. 
We've  been  a  scratchin,  boys,  I  tell  you;  "  the  horses 
gave  signs  of  hard  work  in  their  drooping  heads  and 
foam-covered  sides.  Just  then,  looking  back  along  the 
trailing  stretch  of  the  hard,  white  road  to  the  horizon, 
Beck's  quick  eye  caught  a  glimpse  of  dark  objects 
moving,  and  he  spoke  sharply  : 


82  &v.-u>. 

"It's  them  ;  Cart  Wright's  gang  has  jincd  the  Injins ; 
and  they're  a  comin,  boys,  with  hoop  and  yell.  I'll 
dodge  em,  Mary;  trust  to  me."  He  took  another 
searching  look  at  the  pursuers.  "  Turn  off  the  road,"  he 
said,  ''so  they  can't  sight  us  ;  Jump,  help  Mary  down ; 
lend  a  hand,  Whack,  and  take  the  blankets  off;  be 
quick."  These  were  spread  out  in  the  direction  of  the 
creek.  "Mary,"  he  continued,  "when  AVhackand  Head 
the  horses  to  the  edge  of  the  spreads,  you  and  Jumper 
take  up  the  loose  ones  and  lay  em  out  ahead."  By 
following  his  directions  closely,  they  finally  gained  the 
middle  of  the  stream,  without  leaving  any  visible  trace 
behind  them  in  the  marshy  soil.  Beck  tied  a  cord  to 
the  last  blanket,  upon  which  he  and  his  mare  stood,  and 
threw  it  to  Whack  on  his  horse.  Then  he  mounted, 
leaped  Kit  into  the  water,  and  taking  the  cord  from  his 
companion,  with  a  strong  jerk  he  drew  the  blanket  to 
his  saddle  bow.  They  moved  on  where  the  bottom  was 
sandy  and  even,  and  the  water  not  up  to  the  stirrup. 

"It  deepens  here,  boys,"  Beck  said  further  on; 
"hold  their  heads  well  up,  and  look  to  your  pieces ; 
here  we  go." 

The  horses  took  the  current  easily,  and  after  a  short 
swim,  landed  their  riders  at  the  mouth  of  a  canyon. 
On  a  bar  formed  round  a  jutting  rock-shed,  they  came 
ashore. 

"  We're  safe  now  for  the  night,"  said  their  leader, 
helping  Mary  to  dismount. 

"  If  they  miss  the  trail  won't  they  turn  back?  "  asked 
his  comrade  Whack. 


THE  SCOUTS  RESCUE.  83 

"No;  Bill's  too  old  a  hound;  he'll  keep  up  the 
hunt." 

"  How  can  he  when  the  trail  is  lost  ?  " 

"He'll  keep  straight  on,  scatter  his  gang  and  lay 
low" 

"  If  he  get's  off  the  trail  how  can  he  see  us?" 

"  In  daylight  he  can  scan  the  whole  country ;  out  of 
this  we  strike  the  prairie." 

"So  we're  only  hiding  for  the  night?" 

"  Jus  so ;  for  you  see,  Whack,  the  Injins'  horses  are 
fresh,  and  they  might  have  caught  us,  and  at  night  we 
can't  be  seen  from  the  post." 

"In  daylight,  you  think,  we  have  got  a  better 
chance  ?  " 

"Certain;  for  then  our  nags  will  be  fresh;  and  if 
the  gang  sight  us,  so  will  the  Colonel ;  he'll  be  in  his 
look-out,  sure." 

"Couldn't  we  push  on  along  this  creek?"  asked 
Jumper. 

"No  ;  this  leads  out  the  wrong  course,  and  we  might 
run  afoul  of  em ;  fightin  in  the  night  will  do  whar 
there's  no  women." 

"H-s-h!"  whispered  Mary,  whose  ear  had  caught 
the  sound  of  falling  hoofs. 

"  What  do  you  hear?"  queried  Whack. 
"  It's   them,"    said  Beck ;    "  stand   by  your  horses' 
heads." 

The    sounds    grew    louder,    but    suddenly   ceased 

altogether. 

"They've  lost  us ;"  the  scout  spoke  low,  listening. 


84  SNAP. 

"  What  are  they  doing,  Mister  John  ?  "  asked  Mary. 

"Thar's  jus  daylight  enough  for  em  to  see  the  trail 
break  off,  and  it  puzzles  em." 

"Do  you  think  they  could  find  us?"  she  asked  in  a 
womanly  way,  more  timid  when  comparatively  safe 
than  when  in  imminent  danger. 

"The  Injins  might,  but  they  won't." 

"Why?" 

"A  white  man's  leading  em;  if  an  Injin  led,  I'd 
feel  unsafe." 

"  What  am  they  doing  now?"  joined  in  Jump. 

"  They've  broke  up  into  squads  for  a  search  ;  that's 
their  calls  ;  "  shout  after  shout  was  repeated.  A  clear, 
loud  voice  rang  out,  and  soon  beyond  the  creek,  again 
was  heard  the  tramp  of  feet,  and  gradually  the  sounds 
died  out. 

"  He's  led  off  his  pack ;  "  exclaimed  Beck. 

'f  Have  they  gone?" 

"Yes." 

"And  we're  safe,"  cried  Mary,  joyfully. 

"  Yes  ;  for  the  night ;  what's  the  use  for  him  to  hunt 
a  blind  trail  in  the  dark  ;  unsaddle,  boys." 

Mary  now  urged  by  her  companions  to  take  rest, 
and  feeling  its  need  sorely,  consented ;  she  had  but 
touched  the  blanket  spread  for  her,  Avhen  she  fell  into 
a  heavy  sleep. 

"Whack,  why  don't  you  stretch  yourself;  I'll  stand 
guard  ;  you  and  Jumper  want  a  snooze." 

"Not  till  she's  safe  ;  see,  she  sleeps  as  if  nothing  had 
happened." 


THE  scours  RESCUE.  85 

"True  grit,  boys,  I  tell  you  ;  well — Mary  ;  s'le's  got 
the  pluck  of  a  man,  with  the  heart  of  a  true  woman." 

He  left  them  standing  over  the  prostrate  form,  and 
groped  his  way  along  the  course  of  the  stream. 

Coming  upon  a  cove,  and  near  it  a  pasture  waist- 
deep  in  grass,  he  returned  for  the  horses.  He  found 
the  boys,  each  seated  at  Mary's  feet,  and  sound  asleep. 

"They  can't  help  it,"  he  said  to  himself,  "it  takes 
years  to  harden  the  bones  and  limber  the  muscles  for 
sich  a  ride." 

Now  standing  alone  in  position  between  the  horses 
and  the  sleepers,  having  an  eye  to  both,  he  weighed 
well  the  chances  of  their  escape. 

"I've  done  all  a  brave  man  oughter  do  to  get 
round  the  use  of  my  weepons,"  he  reasoned,  "  but  if 
I  must,  I  must,  that  ends  it ;  "  how  long  he  had  stood 
debating  with  himself,  he  knew  not ;  but  on  looking 
up,  he  noticed  the  rising  moon. 

"  Whack  !  Jump  !  "  he  called  out. 

"What  is  it?"  cried  the  latter,  placing  himself  at 
the  scout's  side. 

"Well  done,  youngster,  you  take  a  surprise  without 
a  flurry  ;  come,  boys,  to  saddle." 

After  the  horses  were  brought,  he  said  further : 

"  Strike  a  match  and  see  to  your  guns  ;  Whoa,  Kit ; 
you  little  minx ;  she's  trying  to  git  out  er  her  skin ; 
can  you  ride,  Mary,  without  a  saddle?" 

"It  wouldn't  be  the  first  time." 

Beck  girthed  a  blanket  round  the  frisky  mare  and 
helped  her  to  a  seat. 


86  SNAP. 

"  Hold  your  rifles  ready ;  now,  Mary,  ride  bet ween 
the  boys,  lean  forward  and  keep  her  steady ;  move 
on.'r 

Striking  a  road  through  the  valley,  the  light  through 
a  rifted  cloud  found  them  in  the  open  country  ;  in  the 
wide,  solemn  silence,  without  shelter  from  the  lurking 
foe.  They  rode  on  without  a  word,  mile  on  mile 
through  the  scent  of  the  wild  flowers. 

"  Day'll  break  on  us  in  sight  of  the  post ;  let  the 
nags  walk,"  Beck  ordered. 

"If  we  can  only  escape," — Mary  had  hardly  spoken, 
when  the  scout,  riding  up,  motioned  quiet. 

"I  heard  em,"  he  said,  in  a  low,  firm  voice;  "it's 
them  on  the  Divide." 

"  Shall  we  spur  up?  "  asked  Whack. 

"  Grab  the  mare's  bridle,  both  of  you ;  they'll  come 
n  bilin  soon  as  they  sight  us  ;  drive  on." 

"  We  can  beat  em,  Mister  John,*'  called  out  Mary. 

Beck  had  fallen  to  the  rear  with  his  rifle  cocked  and 
thrown  across  his  left  arm.  All  at  once  a  yell,  the 
wild,  shrill  scream  of  the  savage  nomad,  was  caught 
up  and  flung  back  by  the  bloodhounds  from  their  lair. 

"  Keep  a  strong  hand,  boys,  and  break  into  a  run," 
shouted  Beck.  Gazing  back  into  the  hazy  distance, 
he  saw  the  gang  divided  into  two  parties  ;  the  foremost 
were  Indians. 

tf  Now  for  it,  lads ;  a  rnn  for  life  ;  Mary,  you're 
safe  "  -  the  sentence  was  broken,  but  caught  up  in  a 
higher  key  ;  "  look  thar,  to  the  left." 


THE  scours  RESCUE.  87 

From  behind  a  mound,  not  fifty  rods  away,  two 
Indians  dashed  at  him  on  their  ponies. 

"If  that's  your  game,  h'yar's  mine."  Beck  halted, 
raised  his  rifle  quickly,  fired,  and  the  savage  in  the 
lead  reeled  and  fell.  Undaunted,  the  second  redskin 
held  to  the  chase.  Beck  had  but  time  to  order  : 

"  Give  the  mare  her  head  and  cock  your  pieces  ;  "  he 
drew  his  pistol,  turning  his  sorrel  to  meet  the  foe.  A 
whizzing  tomahawk  struck  his  hat  as  he  raised  his 
weapon  and  drew  the  trigger.  Another  stark  and 
bleeding  redskin  lay  lifeless  on  the  prairie  green. 

Then  shout,  and  yell  and  curse,  loud  ringing  oaths 
and  Spanish  jargon,  mingled  with  the  snort  of  horses, 
the  stamp  of  feet  were  heard. 

"They're  gaining  on  us,  boys  ;  spur  deep  for  the  last 
heat." 

"For  the  last  heat,  scout,  here  goes,"  cried  Whack. 

"Here  goes."  repeated  Jumper,  riding  well. 

And  Kit,  with  Mary  firmly  seated,  like  a  winged 
speck  on  the  broad  expanse,  shot  ahead. 


88  SNAP. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

SUSPENSE  —  THE    RALI Y. 

IT  was  true,  as  Lu  had  tearfully  said  of  Mary,  "  Now 
that  she  is  gone  we  feel  what  it  is  to  be  without  her." 
Every  nook  in  the  lonely  dwelling  seemed  to  repeat 
her  words.  The  long,  wide,  dreary  hall  sounded  to 
the  tread  of  feet  with  a  mockery  of  its  former  life ; 
even  the  porch-vines  rustled  not  as  when  on  quick- 
paced  duty  she  swept  by  them.  The  door  of  her  room 
stood  open  ;  within  there  was  a  cheerless,  wistful  hush  ; 
the  snowy  curtains  at  the  window,  the  patch- work  quilt 
and  pillows  wore  a  cold  look.  More  lonesome  than  all 
beside,  the  tuneless  throat  of  the  little  bird  encaged. 
Scraps  of  needlework  lay  just  as  she  had  left  them,  the 
clippings  on  the  floor ;  and  on  the  back  of  a  chair  a 
baby's  frock,  half  finished. 

Old  Chloe,  in  her  morning  work,  had  left  the  once 
cheery  corner  with  sobs ;  while  she  stood  in  the  door 
gazing  in,  she  struggled  hard  against  the  mute,  un 
spoken  sadness  of  its  quietude ;  against  the  harsh 
voice  of  the  Doctor's  parrot  without,  breaking  the 
peace  of  the  vacant  hall. 

"  Mary  !  M-a-r-y  !  —  gone  !  "  it  more  than  muttered, 
to  the  dismay  of  the  old  servant. 


S  USPENSE  —  THE  HALL  Y.  89 

"I'se  dun  tole  um  so,"  she  sighed,  wiping  her  tear- 
wet  face,  "  dey  tinks  de  ole  niggah's  got  no  sense,  hut 
I  seed  de  chicken  cliunb  de  fens,  an  scripsher  am  scrip- 
slier."  At  her  cabin,  telling  her  sorrows  to  Cato,  she 
was  not  less  heart-stricken;  she  dwelt  with  love  long 
cherished  on  the  virtues  of  her  lost  "honey,"  —  from 
Mary's  childhood,  and  its  little,  winning  ways,  her 
growth  in  grace  and  beauty  to  the  full  bloom  of 
womanhood,  in  which  she  had  been  torn  away,  —  at 
every  step  her  grief  grew  louder  and  she  mourned 
like  one  distracted. 

"De  Marster  keeps  her  lection  shoo,  Cato;  I'se  dun 
tole  yer  so." 

"  An  He  will  fetch  things  straight,"  said  the  voice  of 
Mrs.  Garrulson  behind  her 

"You  specks  de  troof,  Ole  Miss;  indeed  yer  dus," 
she  answered  in  an  instant  change  of  tone ;  the  words 
had  strengthened  faith  and  banished  woe. 

The  liking  of  the  men  for  Mary  was  not  a  mere  formal 
show  of  respect ;  each  held  to  some  kind  act  of  hers, 
as  they  sat  about  the  camp  at  odds  about  her  capture 
and  her  rescue.  Many  things  Avere  said  pro  and  con  ; 
Tim  Murphy  had  more  than  once  leaped  to  his  feet  to 
blame  them  all  for  not  joining  the  pursuit,  "  on  their 
own  hook." 

"May  I  niver  see  daylight  agin,"  he  said,  excitedly, 
"but  I'll  go,  if  yees  will,  an  foller  the  scout." 

"  Beck  ees  reet,  maun,"  answered  Sandy,  an  older 
head  and  a  wiser  one,  "fer  what  wud  ye  all  go?  Gad, 
eef  Cart wright  seed  yees,  dell  a  onct  wud  he  stap 


00  SNAP. 

atwix  thees  an  Mexico  ;  yeer  speereet's  reel,  me  lad, 
but  tether  yeer  talk  to  rason." 

'That's  the  good  of  the  loikes  of  us  in  camp," 
replied  Tim,  "whin  the  tree  of  em  —  an  two  bys  at 
that—  es  a  fight  in  a  whole  tribe,  an  Mary  is  ruined  by 
the  baste?" 

'Xo,  no  —  no  !"  answered  a  score  at  once,  all  un 
willing  to  harbor  the  thought. 

"Xuthin  kin  hinder  him." 

"Yees,  but  theer  es,  tho,"  said  Sandy;  "his  cow- 
ardyce  wud  keep  her  safe ;  I'd  jine  ye,  Tim,  to  flay 
him  alive  weed  the  snap  o'  the  wheep." 

"  Och  !  I  don't  got  some  beesnis  wid  dot  boss  some 
more  ;  dcsh  ish  dot,"  joined  in  Heinrich,  whose  feel 
ings  labored  hard  with  the  language. 

The  coming  of  Legs  to  the  circle  cut  short  the 
squabble,  and  with  a  message  from  the  trader,  who 
had  not  been  seen  in  the  camp  that  day,  he  was  list 
ened  to  closely. 

"Boys,"  he  said,  as  they  stood  round  him,  "he'll  ax 
no  work  till  his  darter's  back  agin,  an  if  she  ain't  h'yar 
afore  to-morrer  noon,  he's  gwyne  to  mount  hisself ; 
he'il  want  us  all  to  jine  him." 

"Be  jabes,  en  that's  the  talk,"  cried  Tim,  taking  it 
all  as  favoring  his  side. 

"Reet  fer  yees  now,  Tim;  d'yees  tak  me  meenin? 
]>y  the  morrow's  noon  we'll  all  gae  ;  but  the  chiePll  be 
hame  afore  that." 

"  Have  your  bosses  ready,  and  when  he  blows  his 
bugle  mount  an  toiler  him.  I'm  off  to  let  the  Mexcans 


S  USPEXSE  —  THE  RALL  Y.  91 

know,"  added  the  boy,  and  taking  his  way  to  the  cat 
tle-drove,  the  men  dispersed. 

The  Judge  and  the  Doctor  had  urged  the  Colonel  in 
vain,  the  previous  night,  to  seek  rest,  nor  could  Lu 
prevail  upon  him  in  the  least.  The  strong  man,  with 
his  stout,  fatherly  heart,  measured  off  the  long  hours. 
His  face  had  grown  older  since  the  morning,  when, 
among  his  people,  it  was  so  genial  and  brave.  His 
life  had  never  known  before  such  a  mortal  sense  of 
loneliness:  his  thoughts  were  in  tumult;  whether  he 
lived  or  dreamed  he  had  scarcely  sense  to  know,  or 
consciousness  to  wonder.  At  daylight  he  fled  from 
the  thickening  gloom  of  his  house  and  hid  himself  in 
his  office.  Seated  in  the  small  wing  of  the  building, 
he  threw  his  hat  upon  the  floor  and  turned  his  eyes 
upon  the  walls,  where  the  grim  tokens  of  frontier 
strife,  hung  there  by  his  daughter's  hand,  were  shorn 
of  their  harsher  display.  Many  hours,  on  many  days, 
Doctor  Tom  and  Mary  had  spent  together  in  assort 
ing  and  grouping  these  oddities  of  border-Site,  which 
Chcviteau  had  laid  by,  in  long  years,  to  be  placed  in 
this  small  museum.  He  scanned  the  whole  collection, 
as  everything  in  some  way  gave  him  a  fonder  memory 
of  his  child,  as  each  and  all  bore  the  mark  of  her 
tasteful  arrangement.  But  he  dwelt  too  long,  as  each 
changing  sight  but  added  to  his  torment.  In  feverish 
huste  he  seized  his  glass,  springing  up  the  ladder  to  his 
perch  in  the  outlook. 

Lu  had  shown  many  very  kind  attentions  to  Mary's 
father.  She  came  to  the  office  to  know  if  she  could 


92  SNAP. 

be  of  further  service  in  any  way,  and  on  going  out  she 
locked  the  door.  From  the  outside  she  called  to  him 
and  said : 

"Colonel,  I've  locked  you  in  so  that  nobody  may 
trouble  you;  I'll  throw  the  key  through  the  win 
dow,  and  if  you  want  me  I'll  not  be  far  away." 

"Eight,  child,  right,"  he  answered,  without  turning 
his  eyes  from  his  glass ;  and  Lu  returned  to  Mary's 
vacant  chair  under  the  morning-glories. 

Strange  to  say,  Doctor  Tom  was  the  most  cheerful 
man  in  house  or  camp,  and  though  he  paced  the  porch 
impatiently,  he  had  an  implicit  trust  that  Beck  would 
rescue  Mary.  In  his  walk,  he  was  seen  t->  best  ad 
vantage  ;  a  prim,  small  man  with  ruddy  face,  dainty 
feet  and  hands,  dressed  in  blue-white  cottonade.  His 
shirt-front  frilled  and  starched  to  the  purest  gloss,  the 
shine  of  his  boots  the  wonder  of  the  imp  who  polished 
them,  and  his  walk  and  mien  had  the  air  of  taste,  with 
a  little  of  fashion's  folly. 

Lu's  grief  was  most  sincere  and  touching;  at  times, 
poignant. 

"  If  you  will  allow  me,  my  dear,"  said  Doctor  Tom, 
"I  would  like  to  talk  with  you." 

"I  would  like  to  hear  you,  Doctor,"  she  replied, 
drying  her  eyes. 

"I'm  not  surprised  at  your  distress,  but  you  give  up 
too  soon." 

"Why?" 

"Make  yourself  more  content,"  he  in-ged,  throwing 


SUSPENSE—  THE  RALLY.  .      93 

into  his  manner  every  assurance  to  revive  her  drooping 
spirits  ;  "  you'll  see  your  friend  soon." 

"Have  you  any  word?  or  what  hope  have  you?" 

"A  strong  belief  that  Mary's  now  safe,  or — " 

"Or  what?"  she  asked  hastily. 

"Or  John  Beck's  a  dead  man,"  was  the  blunt  reply. 
Lu  started.  "I  was  about  to  add,"  he  went  on, 
"  that  as  there's  little  danger  of  Cartwrijjht  killing  John 

O  o  o 

Beck,  why,  of  course,  I  reason  that  Mary's  safe." 

"  What  is  it  makes  you  feel  so  sure  ?  " 

"John  Beck  is  one  in  a  thousand  ;  a  fellow,  genuine 
through  and  through,  and  what  the  men  call  f  squar 
all  round.'  " 

"Do  they  fear  him,  Doctor?" 

"  No,-  not  that  exactly  ;  they  trust  him,  that's  it.  So 
now  keep  heart ;  just  as  sure  as  he  pledged  his  word, 
he'll  bring  her  back  to  the  old  porch,  or  lose  his  life. 
If  you  want  company,  call  to  me  in  my  sanctum  sanc 
torum."  He  rose,  turned  away,  and  entered  the 
hall. 

His  room,  brightened  by  the  vine-sifted  sunlight, 
had  the  cool  airiness  of  a  country-house  chamber,  and 
there  were  many  bits  and  scraps  of  luxury,  caught  up 
from  the  drift  of  a  fast  life,  to  adorn  it.  On  the  win 
dow-sill  rested  a  mahogany  case,  the  lid  bearing  a  gold- 
plate  inscription.  On  a  branching  rack  was  perched 
the  parrot,  an  Italian  bird,  and  a  very  ill-mannered 
prattler.  Whack  and  Jump  had  often  placed  him  in  a 
bush,  kneeling  by  it,  to  taunt  and  torment  the  mimic 
into  a  repetition  of  language  neither  chaste  nor  polite. 


94  SKA  P. 

As  a  linguist,  the  parrot  was  not  slow  in  adopting  the 
vernacular. 

The  Doctor  enjoyed  his  repose  in  a  lounge-chair,  his 
head  thrown  back,  the  white  hair  lying  cold  en  a  pas 
sionless  brow.  The  face,  at  rest,  was  that  of  a  man 
whose  vices  had  been  restrained  by  will,  but  the  recol 
lection  was  surely  not  without  remorse. 

Judge  Smith,  sauntering  about  the  hall,  had  looked 
in  more  than  once  or  twice,  with  an  uneasy  desire  to 
impress  the  inmate  with  some  idea  of  his,  the  Judge's, 
importance. 

The  Doctor  seeing  him,  said  : 

"Come  in,  Judge."  The  invitation  was  kind,  but 
formal,  but  the  one  addressed  seated  himself  with  a 
lazy  sort  of  indifference,  as  if  constrained  to  be  pleas 
ant,  which  the  other  noting,  he  was  at  once  primed  for 
a  cool  reception. 

"Are  the  Indians  troublesome?"  asked  the  Judge, 
as  one  at  a  loss  how  to  be  interesting. 

"Troublesome!  You  ought  to  know.  Were  they 
ever  anything  else?  They're  as  savage  now  as  ever, 
and  as  they  will  be,  always." 

"My  opinion  is,"'  said  the  other,  expanding  his  pro 
portions,  "that  they're  a  great  people." 

"Great!  Is  there  anything  great  in  a  sava<re? 
Great !  in  one  that  displays  all  the  qualities  of  an  un 
enlightened  people,  for  ages  isolated  from  the  rest  of 
mankind.  Great ! " 

"Well,  sol  have  read." 

"  Eead  !     What  have  you  read,  seh  ?     You  may  have 


SUSPENSE—  THE  RALLY.  95 

read  of  an  ideal  Indian,  which  romance  runs  mad  after; 
of  one  who  combines  all  the  traits  without  the  inequal 
ities  of  his  race.  Head  !  There  are  none  such.  You 
may  have  read  the  poetic  conception  of  him,  which  as 
a  conception  is  without  a  standard,  sell ;  his  vices  and 
virtues  have  been  drawn  hypotbetically,  sch ;  hypo- 
thetically  from  such  as  belong  to  the  savage  state  ;  he 
differs  from  other  barbarians  in  the  completeness  of  his 
savage  character,  but  is  he  less  savage?" 

"Well,  but  we  must  be  kind  to  them,  and  tame 
them." 

"Kind!  Kind!  What  kind  of  kindness  are  you 
talking  about,  Judge?  Don't  you  know  we  have  been 
kinder  to  the  Indian  than  any  other  nation  would  or 
could  have  been  under  like  circumstances?  We've 
been  over-kind  in  a  mistaken  policy  ;  a  policy  that  W7ill 
utterly  destroy  him  :  or  by  permission  and  indulgence 
he  will  destroy  himself." 

"Oh,  I  reckon  not." 

"lieckon!  There's  another  mistake.  We  reckon 
too  much  on  the  supposition  that  he  maybe  better  than 
he  is  ;  we  don't  face  the  fact,  that  he  is  much  worse 
than  we  suppose  ;  he  is  represented  generally  in  his 
most  genial  phase,  even  to  palliate  his  most  ferocious 
acts,  by  reference  to  the  injustice  and  oppression  of 
which  he  has  been  the  victim,  as  if  he  had  not  been  a 
savage  at  all  until  the  landing  of  the  whites.  Now  to 
be  consistent,  in  exact  justice,  we  had  better  burn 
down  our  towns  and  cities,  and  start  back  to  where  we 
all  came  from." 


96  SNAP. 

"But  he  has  a  good  deal  of  strength  of  character." 

"  You  don't  stop  to  analyze,  and  have  caught  a  part 
of  an  idea  only;  what  you  consider  his  strength  is 
really  his  weakness ;  the  contemplation  of  nature  in 
her  primitive,  robust  form  hns  made  him  taciturn  ;  he 
is  not  meditative ;  the  profound  loneliness  seems  to 
have  terrified  all  the  gentler  qualities,  smothered  all 
sentiment,  and  brought  out  all  that  is  sensuous  and 
selfish." 

"  Oh,  but  I  know,  in  a  fight  he  is  a  hero ;  he  talks 
like  an  orator." 

r?  You're  wrong  again ;  he  never  does  stand  up  to 
an  open  fight ;  he  is  brave  enough ;  so  is  every  wild 
animal ;  his  motion  and  action  may  be  that  of  a  fine- 
mettled  biped ;  his  physical  attitude  and  expression 
are  picturesque,  nothing  more.  He  is  not  eloquent ; 
a  combination  of  material  objects  is  his  only  means 
of  expressing  abstract  ideas  ;  the  barrenness  of  his 
language,  and  not  the  luxuriance  of  his  imagination, 
enforces  a  mode  of  speech ;  he  is  not  a  natural  orator ; 
his  mind  is  a  blank  in  the  eloquence  of  thought ;  he 
has  no  humor,  no  romance,  no  poetic  feeling." 

"But  we  all  see  what  he  is." 

"  But  you  don't  try  to  see  what  he  is  not ;  he  is  not 
what  you  make  him  out  to  be ;  he  considers  every 
thing  beneath  his  notice  which  is  not  necessary  to  his 
advantage  or  enjoyment ;  his  wife  is  a  beast  of  burden  ; 
he  has  neither  affection  nor  piety ;  the  aged  and  in 
firm  are  left  to  die  by  the  wayside ;  his  attachment  to 
any  region  depends  on  its  capacity  to  furnish  game ; 


SUSPENSE—  THE  RALLY.  97 

even  his  courting  is  carried  on  by  gifts  of  good  things 
to  eat ;  he  has  fear  or  admiration  of  another  being  in 
so  far  as  he  is  subduecj  by  superior  power,  or  in  degree 
as  another  exceeds  him  in  savage  traits."  * 

"Well,  what  would  you  do  with  him?" 

"Do  with  him?  What  ought  to  be  done  is  to  give 
him  every  chance,  help  him,  protect  him  in  being  self- 
dependent  ;  let  him  learn  to  be  a  responsible  being, 
and  in  contact  with  civilization  he  would  become  civil 
ized  ;  his  savage  traits,  in  time,  might  wear  away." 

"Oh,  that  won't  do!  " 

"That's  what  the  politician  has  said,  Judge,  for 
years ;  he'll  keep  on  saying  it  for  the  rest  of  the 
century." 

The  visitor  arose,  bowed  himself  out,  and  a  good 
deal  of  the  starch  of  his  conceit  had  wilted.  "You 
see,  Doctor,  it  might  ruin  the  party." 

"It  is  a  poor  party,  then,  that  can't  do  justice  with 
out  being  ruined." 

The  absence  of  Jumper  would  have  left  Lu  without 
an  attentive  admirer  had  not  the  Judge,  upon  sudden 
reflection,  taking  in  her  distress  and  her  income  at  a 
single  thought,  made  up  his  mind  to  supplant  the  ab 
sent  youth.  To  ,be  smart,  or  to  be  thought  so,  was 
ever,  in  his  sight,  an  elevation  above  an  ordinary  mor 
tal  ;  he  scrupled  but  little  as  to  the  moral  or  principle 
of  an  action,  if  the  action  flattered  this  vanity.  He  was 
never  alive  to. consequences,  whether  his  conceit  might 

*  The  substance  of  this   conversation  has  been  gleaned  from  "  Western 
Character  "  —  McConnel  —  vide  chap.  "  The  Indian,"  and  notes  of  reference. 


98  SNAP. 

lead  him  to  the  edge  of  dishonor  or  into  it,  to  mean 
ness  or  incivility,  so  that  he  made  his  mark  of  credit 
with  such  as  are  so  ignorant  .or  coarse  as  to  admire 
such  impudence.  He  had  resolved  that  in  the  melting 
mood  a  woman's  affection  is  more  easily  caught,  and 
that  to  storm  her  weakened  will  would  be  in  effect  an 
easy  victory.  To  resolve  was  to  act,  and  as  he  had 
seated  himself  near  her,  he  said  abruptly  : 

"  Wouldn't  you  like  to  get  away  from  all  this  trouble, 
Miss  Lu  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  she  answered,  timidly,  for  childlike  she  had 
been  terrified. 

"  Nothing  easier ;  "  he  lowered  his  voice  to  an  insin 
uating  whisper. 

"I  cannot  understand  you,"  she  said,  unable  to  catch 
the  drift  of  his  thoughts. 

"  Nothing  easier  than  to  let  some  one  take  you  out 
of  it." 

"That's  easy  enough,  as  you  say,"  she  answered, 
still  puzzled  and  uneasy  at  his  manner. 

"  Some  friend,  some  one  that  you  admire,  might 
take  you  out  of  the  danger,  if  you  would  allow  it," 
he  went  on  in  a  simpering  way,  catching  at  his  sugges 
tions  by  starts.  But  so  far  his  words  were  meaning 
less. 

"A  friend  might  do  so  if  1  was  inclined  to  go,"  she 
answered,  with  a  faint  idea  that  the  Judge  was  halting 
over  some  sentimental  riddle,  and,  pained  as  she  was 
at  heart,  she  smiled  at  the  stupid  look  and  manner  of 
the  man.  He  was  seated  very  near  her,  and  was  about 


SUSPENSE— THE   RALLY.  1)9 

to  take  her  hand,  perhaps,  when  a  shrill,  spiteful  voice 
screamed  out  : 

"  Drop  it !  drop  it !  drop  it !  "  So  sudden,  so  nearly 
human  was  the  ciy,  the  Judge  fled,  and  Lu,  not  less 
frightened,  hastened  from  the  porch.  She  saw  the 
parrot  standing  in  the  doorway.  Polly  had  been  look 
ing  on,  and  as  the  suitor  was  about  to  take  Lu's  hand, 
had  taken  her  cue ;  his  attitude  was  the  same  as  that 
of  the  boys  when  training  the  parrot  on  the  bush,  and 
it  had  only  repeated  one  of  the  milder  forms  of  its 
lessons. 

Another  night  of  the  most  trying  unrest  had  passed, 
and  the  trader  rose  with  the  light  of  the  second  morn 
ing  to  hasten  to  his  outlook.  The  men  had  come  to 
gether  —  a  small  army  —  their  nags  saddled,  and  Legs 
the  teamster  held  the  Colonel's  horse  with  his  own,  at 
the  office-door.  When  Lu  came,  bringing  a  tray  with 
breakfast,  she  found  the  old  man  with  his  glass  levelled 
on  the  open  country.  But  he  would  not  be  disturbed. 
For  a  while  he  peered  through  it  steadily,  only  chang 
ing  position  to  vary  the  line  of  sight.  Suddenly  he 
called  to  Lu  to  come  near  him,  on  the  ladder. 

"Here,  child,  be  quick,"  he  said,  "look  due  west  an 
tell  me  what  you  see,"  placing  the  instrument  in  her 
hands.  She  brought  her  younger  eye  to  bear  upon 
the  distance,  and  had  looked  but  a  second,  when  in  a 
fluttering,  broken  voice  she  almost  screamed  : 

"It's  them  !  it's  them,  — there's  Whack  and  Jump, 
and  there's  Mary  ahead,  riding  for  life ;  hold  on  ;  it's 
the  scout  at  their  back,  fighting  a  gang,  single-handed. 


100  SNAP. 

Stop  ;  there  goes  a  redskin  from  his  horse,  and  look, 
he  has  fired  again  :  down  goes  another ;  he's  free  !  " 

"  Quick,  chil,  get  me  the  bugle  !  " 

Lu  turned  from  the  perch,  leaped  down,  and  re 
turned  in  a  second.  He  blew  one  long,  loud  blast, 
and  it  was  answered  from  the  camp.  Cheer  on  cheer 
was  heard,  and  like  a  charge  in  the  heat  of  battle,  the 
men  dashed  forth ;  the  trader  threw  himself  into  the 
saddle,  out-speeding  the  boy  who  hung  upon  his 
flank. 

Cheer  on  cheer  again  burst  forth  as  the  men  formed 
a  barrier  against  the  pirates.  The  Colonel  was  the 
first  to  reach  Mary,  nor  did  he  wait  to  draw  rein,  but 
threw  himself  from  his  horse.  He  seized  his  child, 
and  in  a  speechless  maze,  wound  his  old,  fond  arms 
around  her. 

Just  before  the  bugle's  blast,  Cartwright  bore  down 
on  the  scout;  his  throat,  neck  and  arms  bared  and 
bronzed,  he  lent  the  hideous  to  the  scene,  with  violent 
haste.  But  the  bugle's  warning  checked  his  headlong 
race,  and  turning  in  his  saddle  he  saw  his  gang  on  the 
retreat ;  he  wheeled  and  followed. 

Pedro  the  vaquero  led  the  charge  from  the  camp, 
unequalled  in  grace  as  the  bells  of  his  spurs  tinkled  at 
every  motion.  He  rode  close  upon  the  heels  of  the 
fleeing  boss.  Making  ready,  his  right  hand  held  the 
noose  and  his  left  the  coil  of  a  lasso.  With  a  swing 
of  his  arm  it  enlarged  over  his  head  to  a  perfect  circle, 
which,  as  he  neared  the  fugitive,  he  warily  let  slip. 
At  the  same  moment  his  horse  fell  back  on  its  haunches 


SUSPENSE  —  THE  RAIL  Y.  101 

to  resist  the  strain.  The  wily  thief  kept  an  eye  on  the 
Mexican,  and,  as  the  rope  left  his  grasp,  Cartwright 
seized  his  pony's  mane,  and  stretched  himself  at  length. 
The  noose  fell  true  to  its  mark,  but  the  boss  escaped 
by  dodging. 

"Carajo,  caramba ! "  muttered  the  vaquero,  as  he 
quietly  re-coiled  his  lariat. 

One  of  the  retreating  bandits,  unable  to  control  his 
ire  at  Pedro's  challenge  with  the  lasso,  broke  away 
from  his  party  and  turned  back  in  a  run.  He  had 
counted  on  the  other's  flight,  in  which  to  excel  him  in 
throwing  the  noose,  but  he  mistook  the  vaquero's  tem 
per,  as  he  sat  erect  in  his  seat,  unmoved.  Drawing 
nearer,  there  was  a  glance  of  recognition  in  which  both 
were  fired  to  a  quickened  hate.  The  cow-boy  in  haste 
drew  off  his  poncho,  wrapping  it  round  his  left  arm, 
dismounted,  tied  his  horse,  and  with  loud  threats 
planted  himself  in  front  of  his  foe.  The  challenge  was 
hurled  with  epithet  and  curse  into  the  face  of  him  who 
had  dashed  up  to  provoke  it. 

"Down,  down,  monte-cheat ;  aha,  senor  thief;  down, 
down,  coward;  by  the  backbone  of  the  padre,  I  will 
you  smite." 

Drawing  his  knife  he  kissed  the  hilt,  and  threw  it 
trembling  through  the  sunlight,  into  the  earth  at  his 
feet. 

The  other  prepared  himself  in  like  manner: — his 
tongue  more  fluent  and  tiery  —  the  two  met  face  to 
face,  holding  their  poinards  raised.  The  left  fore-arm 


102  SNAP. 

of  each  was  clad  as  a  shield,  and  with  stab  and  thrust 
they  fell  to  their  bloody  work. 

"Hog-driver,  peon,  bastard,  caramba  !''  hissed  the 
frantic  Pedro ;  he  stepped  back  a  pace ;  recovered, 
with  a  quick  left-hand  flourish  of  his  hat  in  the  face  of 
the  bewildered  adversary,  while  the  right  sunk  the 
steel,  and  felled  him  lifeless  on  the  sod.  Stripping  the 
dead  man's  horse,  he -mounted,  driving  the  riderless 
beast  over  the  waste. 

The  joyous  party,  with  laugh  and  shout,  were  hast 
ening  to  the  post,  while  those  in  retreat  were  nearly 
out  of  sight.  At  the  house,  the  Colonel  bore  his 
daughter  from  her  horse  and  seated  her  under  the 
bison's  head. 

"Boys,"  he  called  out,  in  a  firm,  familiar  greeting, 
"  don't  spec  me  now  to  thank  you,  but  the  day's  a  comin 
when  I  will;  that's  certin.  Come  in;  we'll  drink  a 
health." 

They  entered  the  house  in  squads,  and  the  old  man 
spent  with  them  a  brief  roystering  hour,  the  jolliest 
episode  of  his  checkered  life.  AH  the  lost  humor  came 
back  to  him  in  redoubled  warmth,  and  Beck,  standing 
by  Mary,  felt  free  to  laugh  aloud  for  the  first  time  since 
her  capture. 

"  Well  —  Mary,"  he  exclaimed,  as  if  in  some  doubt  of 
what  he  had  done  ;  "  I  thought  I'd  get  you  back  to  the 
old  porch,  and  here  we  arc."  He  had  loosened  all  the 
restraint  of  his  manner  and  habit,  for  once.  Doctor 
Tom,  the  Judge,  Lu,  and  Mrs.  Garrulson,  were  all  of 
the  happy  crowd.  Whack  and  Jump  recounted  to  a 


SUSPENSE  —  THE  RALL  Y.  103 

group  their  adventures,  and  Chloe,   standing   at  the 
door,  chuckled  and  shook  her  sides. 

The  men  were  called  to  mount  by  Beck,  in  the  lead, 
and  outside  they  gave  a  round,  rousing  shout.  As 
they  rode  away,  a  melodious  voice  struck  up  the  camp 
song,  and  from  mellowed  throats  the  chorus,  on  the 
sweet  summer  breeze,  was  borne  away. 

Crack,  snap,  whipiti-snap, 

Whipiti-snap,  whipiti-snap; 
Crack,  snap,  whipiti-snap, 

A  bullwhacker's  life  is  gay. 
Whoa-hawr  down  to  your  work, 
Gee  Buck,  up  with  a  jerk, 

Crack,  snap,  bang,  jerk, 
A  bullwhacker's  life  is  gay. 


104  SNAP. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  LONG  JOURNEY—  THE  HEAR  PORCH. 

JUST  after  the  cheer  at  the  house,  groups  of  joyous 
fellows  were  seen  about  the  camp.  Beck  walked  off 
to  hide  himself  with  his  thoughts.  When  alone,  his 
humor  changed,  his  face  lengthened,  his  eyes  were 
restless;  he  sat  down,  played  with  a  twig  and  broke 
it  into  bits.  The  man  was  troubled  ;  a  heavy  weight 
sat  upon  his  spirit,  fears  of  strange  form  vexed  him. 
He  had  seen  the  packers,  with  Cartwright  leading 
them;  also,  the  vicious  readiness  of  the  Indians  to 
obey  his  beck  and  call.  He  put  this  and  that  to 
gether,  traced  their  retreat  to  the  crib,  and  from 
thence  he  followed  the  Mexicans  and  Cartwright  back 
to  where  the  bandits  hailed  from.  All  this  was  the 
subject  of  his  unsettled  musing;  he  took  up  and 
measured  the  disjointed  outlines  of  a  plot,  as  his  mind 
foreboded  ;  he  knew  the  actors,  and  he  knew  and  felt 
with  something  like  a  creeping  chill,  the  cold-blooded 
enmity  of  the  ringleader. 

Suddenly  he  rose,  drew  himself  to  his  full  height, 
and  gazed  with  an  intent,  far-reaching  search  of°the 
vast  expanse.  He  looked  steadily,  as  if  he  counted 
the  leagues ;  he  drew  his  hat  down  and  stared,  then 


THE  LONG  JOURNEY— THE  REAR  PORCH.      105 

he  turned,  let  fall  the  bits  of  twig  from  his  raised 
hand,  and  said,  aloud  : 

"I  can  make  it ;  I  will  if  it  kills  me." 

The  man  had  resolved  upon  making  a  fearful  jour 
ney  ;  a  long,  lone  race  against  the  insidious  spite  of  a 
hated  foe.  He  had  settled  down  to  his  duty  sternly, 
and  walked  off  with  his  giant  strides  let  loose. 

At  the  caballada  he  stood  for  a  short  while  looking 
at  the  drove  of  fine  horses,  and  singled  out,  at  last, 
one  that  his  eyes  had  sought.  Legs,  the  teamster, 
had  given  him  his  morning  dash,  a  daily  exercise  to 
tame  his  mettle,  and  to  harden  his  muscles.  Beck's 
glance  at  the  thoroughbred  was  satisfying. 

"He'll  do,"  he  said;  then  he  moved  away  to  the 
shade  of  a  tree,  threw  himself  on  the  ground  and 
slept  for  hours.  It  was  a  giant's  rest.  For  the  re 
mainder  of  the  day,  and  part  of  the  night,  he  was 
mending  his  traps  and  nerving  his  heart. 

"  I'm  off,  Peter,"  he  said  on  the  morning  following 
that  on  which  Mary  was  brought  back.  He  spoke  as 
if  he  was  only  about  to  cross  the  river  and  return,  so 
easily  had  his  will  taken  on  the  discharge  of  duty 

"  Whar  you  boun,  John?" 

"To  head  off  the  pirate." 

"Hound  him  down,  an  don't  let  up  on  him." 

"He'll  not  trouble  the  camp  jest  yet,  but,"  he  laid 
his  hand  on  the  old  man's  shoulder,  "  he  will,  Peter ; 
he'll  never  let  up  till  he's  dead  ;  I  know  him.  I'll  do 
my  best,  kase  I'm  bleeged  to." 

The  trader  turned  to  his  iron  box  and  drew  forth  a 


106  SNAP. 

roll  of  coin,  which  Beck  put  away  in  the  folds  of  his 
blouse.  A  few  words  passed  between  them  as  he 
drew  his  belt  closer  about  his  waist,  while  Peter  con 
tinued  :  "  You  ken  have  all  you  want,  pardner ;  drive 
out  the  varmint  an  I'll  not  forgit  yer  sarvice." 

But  Beck  was  already  busy  ;  he  had  balanced  in  his 
ha:id  the  best,  long-range  rifle  from  the  rack,  and  to 
prove  it  clean  and  sure  he  stepped  to  the  doorway  and 
lircd  ;  a  burr  that  flecked  the  taper  point  of  a  high  top 
pine,  spun  splintering  through  the  air. 

"  Good  enough,"  he  said,  as  he  swung  the  rifle,  with 
pouch  and  powder-horn,  having  carefully  examined 
his  smaller  arms. 

He  now  whistled  loudly  through  his  fingers,  and 
s  .on  Legs  led  up  the  horse. 

"He  feels  gaily,  Mister  Beck,  an  ef  he  don't  take 
you  a  bilin,  I'll  give  in." 

"  What,  Tuck ;  oh,  he'll  go  like  lightnin,  or  like  a 
lamb,  jes  as  I've  a  mind  to." 

From  a  score  of  the  best  strain,  which  the  trader 
had  at  times  imported  into  his  stock  from  the  blue- 
grass  pastures  of  Kentucky,  Beck  had  long  since 
chosen  as  a  favorite,  this  fine,  blood-bay  stallion  ;  the 
fim-st  of  the  lot,  and  one  which  he  had  with  uncom 
mon  pride  watched  and  longed  for  as  his  mount, 
should  the  time  come  to  need  uncommon  endurance 
and  speed.  The  time  had  come. 

Tuck,  as  Beck  called  him,  was  a  beauty,  a  staying 
speeder,  fleet  as  a  greyhound.  With  the  wickedest 


THE  LONG   JOURNEY— THE  REAR  PORCH.       107 

grace  in  the  world,  the  horse  stood  fretting,  and  the 
firm  muscles  twitched  under  a  coat  as  soft  as  satin. 

Beck  stroked  the  small,  lean,  racer-like  head,  fondled 
the  delicate,  taper  ears  traced  with  veins  like  a  vine- 
leaf;  he  patted  the  high-mettled,  fine-strung  body, 
smoothing  the  broad  shoulders,  feeling  the  force  of 
loin  and  girth,  the  hard,  firm  ribs,  the  clean,  slender 
legs.  He  clasped  the  face  between  his  hands,  and  the 
man's  nature  melted,  for  on  earth  there  are  no  eyes  so 
spirited  as  those  of  a  horse. 

frAre  you  ready,  Tuck?  eh,  ole  boy?"  he  spoke  as 
a  friend  to  a  friend  in  good  faith.  He  turned  about 
and  looked  to  his  haversack.  The  provender  placed 
therein  was  barely  enough  to  last  a  stout  man  forty- 
eight  hours.  There  was  a  small  lump  of  pemrnican,  a 
small  bag  of  coffee,  one  of  salt  and  pepper,  mixed,  a 
dozen  or  two  hard  biscuit,  a  pound  or  more  of  flitch, 
a  tin  quart-cup.  He  relied  for  further  subsistence  on 
his  gun  and  the  chance  meeting  of  a  train  on  the  road. 

But  this  was  a  light  concern  of  the  wayfarer,  com 
pared  with  the  exhaustion  he  must  undergo.  He  went 
on  with  his  preparations.  His  hair  had  been  cut  close 
to  the  scalp,  his  beard  trimmed,  he  was  clad  as  a 
ranger,  without  an  ounce  of  useless  weight  about  him. 
He  strode  up  to  Cheviteau  and  said : 

"So  long,  Peter ;  if  I'm  gone  for  a  spell,  don't  slack 
your  trust.  Jes  remember,  I'll  make  it.  I'm  bleeged 
to  do  it." 

"Good  by,  John  Beck;  I'll  wait  yer  comin  till 
doomsday.'' 


108  SNAP. 

Beck  left  the  office  with  his  blankets,  and  nothing 
more  was  said  by  either.  Standing  at  the  side  of  his 
horse,  which  the  lad  held,  he  tightened  the  girth  over 
the  Spanish  tree,  placed  his  foot  in  the  hooded  stirrup 
and  mounted. 

In  the  blood-boiling  vigor  of  his  strength,  the  horse 
pranced,  reared,  then  bounded  away  under  a  hand  as 
firm  as  iron.  Held  to  a  swinging  lope,  he  bore  his 
rider  proudly  from  the  sight  of  his  friends  at  the  post. 

In  the  saddle  the  man  looked  his  best,  and  the  motion 
seemed  to  ennoble  his  bearing.  So  much  of  his  life 

O 

had  been  given  to  the  wild  coursing  of  the  plains,  he 
was  never  so  splendid  a  figure  as  now.  Sweeping  the 
long,  drear  wastes,  across  the  wide,  green  stretches, 
through  forests,  over  sun-dried  rivers,  or  battling  the 
freshet,  he  seemed  a  born  rider,  and  the  horse  as  a 
thing  created  for  him. 

Beck's  hazardous  scout  to  the  far  south-west  was  full 
of  hidden  perils.  He  would  traverse  at  times  the  Big 
Backbone ;  he  might  be  untouched,  unseen,  or  be 
tracked,  surprised,  hemmed  in;  from  bush  or  clump, 
the  rising  prairie  swells,  from  trees  skirting  the  groves 
or  forests,  from  heights  above  a  ford,  from  mounds  or 
gorges,  a  shower  of  arrows  or  of  whizzing  balls  might 
sweep  him  down ;  but  the  man's  face  was  calm ;  the 
eyes,  with  look  of  daring,  stared  straight  ahead,  and 
beneath  him  the  gray  stretches  swept  by  like  the  pas.-s- 
ing  current  of  a  stream.  Along  the  hard,  gravelly 
road  he  held  his  course  and  the  bay  his  speed,  bearing 
as  tierce  a  rider  as  ever  crossed  the  plains. 


THE  LONG   JOURNEY— THE  REAR  PORCH.       1Q9 

There  was  much  to  lend  that  hard,  strong  stare  to 
the  face  of  the  man.  JSTo  Bedouin  on  the  sun-stricken, 
desert  sands  ever  gazed  upon  a  more  cheerless  expanse 
than  that  on  which  Beck  looked,  in  the  almost  limitless 
stretch  before  him. 

One  day  with  another  at  the  start  was  a  pleasant 
jaunt ;  he  rode  freely,  but  with  extreme  caution,  to 
spare  himself  and  his  horse. 

At  the  crib  the  Indians  rode  away,  leaving  Cart- 
wright  alone  with  the  Mexicans.  Just  before  quitting 
the  trader's  service  he  had  taken  note  that  contracts 
had  been  signed,  a  route  mapped  out  for  an  expedition, 
and  it  was  nearing  the  time  for  its  departure  ;  he  knew 
further  that  it  would  pursue  a  certain  road,  and  he 
shaped  a  plot,  at  once.  He  knew  the  chiefs  of  hostile 
bands,  who  traded  in  the  town  from  which  the  pack- 
train  came,  and  thither  he  was  bent  on  going,  in  the 
lead  of  the  gang. 

It  was  this  very  design,  which  Beck  surmised  and 
over  which  he  brooded,  that  had  sent  him  forth. 

Cruz,  the  deposed  captain,  was  ready  enough  to  foil 
into  line  as  a  lieutenant,  but  before  mounting  he  up 
braided  the  friend  of  his  bosom  and  laid  bare  to  the 
amiable  Josefina  the  sin  of  her  fancy  for  Mary  ;  she 
meekly,  as  a  matter  of  course,  understood  the  easy 
stages  by  which  her  spouse  reached  a  climax,  and  was 
not  disappointed  in  an  after  moment,  when  he  thrashed 
her  soundly.  Heedless,  however,  his  other  pet,  in  a 
rear- foot  pastime,  was  playing  havoc  with  packs  and 
saddles,  and  vehemently  threatened  the  shanty's  safety. 


110  "  SNAP. 

The  plunder-laden  train  moved  out,  taking  a  secret 
trail  for  the  territory  of  the  south-west  savage  and  the 
puebla  of  the  border  Mexican.  They  had  many  hours 
start  of  the  scout  towards  the  same  destination. 

The  trader  had  made  known  to  the  Department  at 
Washington  the  troubles  which  beset  his  business,  and 
he  had  asked  for  a  military  escort  to  guard  his  trains. 

f  O 

Whack  was  forming  a  patrol  of  mounted  men,  for  a 
skirmish  line  on  the  skirt  of  the  camp  ;  the  number  of 
teamsters  was  increased. 

Beck  had  been  absent  a  week.  At  all  hours  the 
snap  of  the  whip  Was  heard  ;  the  trader  was  seen  late 
and  early  in  the  camp ;  the  friendship  of  Miss  Lu  and 
the  sprightly  Jumper  grew  apace ;  now  and  then  an 
ebb  in  Mrs.  Garrulson's  talk  served  to  show  what  the 
real  force  of  its  flood-tide  might  be,  and  the  laugh  of 
old  Chloe  was  heard,  as  she  sat  at  her  cabin  door. 

Mary  had  held  up  amazingly,  but  she  was  not  proof 
against  the  nervous  reaction  after  so  hard  a  strain.  On 
the  day  of  her  return,  almost  overcome,  she  gave  way, 
and  was  not  seen  for  days  ;  she  kept  her  room  under 
Chloe's  care.  It  was  at  the  end  of  a  week  when  she 
came  again  to  her  accustomed  place. 

After  dinner,  on  the  day  of  her  re-appearance,  Chevi- 
teau  led  the  way  to  the  rear  porch,  followed  by  Doctor 
Tom  and  others  of  the  family.  Mary's  seat  at  the  side 
of  the  Doctor  seemed  just  as  it  should  be,  nor  was  it 
less  as  it  should  be  when  Lu  and  Jumper  edged  away 
to  a  corner,  nor  when  Whack  was  told  that  two  were 
company.  There  was  something  not  unlike  the  fitness 


THE  LONG   JOURNEY—  THE  REAR  PORCH.       \\\ 

of  things  when  Mrs.  Garrulson  opened  fire  on  the 
Judge. 

The  first  whispered  word  in  the  tete-a-tete,  which 
Whack  itched  to  break  up,  caught  his  ear. 

"None  o'  that,"  he  called  out,  to  their  dismay; 
"your  heads  are  too  nigh." 

"Well,  Cheviteau,  what's  up?"  began  the  Doctor; 
"anybody  killed  or  hurt?  The  Judge  here  wouldn't 
mind  having  a  case,  I  have  no  doubt." 

"No;  somebody  mi«:ht  get  hurt,  if  this  thing  keeps 
on." 

"More  trouble?" 

"No,  it's  the  same  old  fuss  twix  white  and  red 
man." 

"  Yes,  and  it'll  be  the  same  old  fuss  when  we're  dead 
and  gone." 

"It  ought  not  to  be,"  said  the  Judge. 

"  So  we  all  think,  but  how  would  you  stop  it, 
Judge?" 

"Is  it  the  Indian's  fault?" 

"If  you  answer  by  asking,  let  me  ask,  is  it  the  white 
man's  fault  ?  " 

"  Well,  then,  Doctor,  what's  your  remedy?" 

"Treat  the  bad  white  man  and  the  bad  red  man 
alike  ;  make  a  law  that  both  shall  respect  alike,  to 
which  both  shall  be  responsible; — then  hang  them 
both,  if  they  deserve  it;  don't  make  a  criminal  out  of 
your  own  kind,  and  a  hero  out  of  a  savage,  for  one 
and  the  same  offence  ;  that  kind  of  policy  is  sheer  non 
sense." 


112  SXAP. 

"But  the  government  has  been  kind  to  the  In 
dian." 

"  And  has  only  flattered  his  vices  by  being  so  ;  it  has 
been  generous,  but  not  just." 

"  How  so  ?  " 

"With  one  hand  it  provides  for  him,  guards  him; 
with  the  other  places  him  in  the  path  of  progress,  a 
scarecrow  to  enterprise,  a  hideous  fright  to  the  emi 
grant,  to  be  ultimately  stricken  down,  cast  aside  and 
trampled  on." 

"  Jus  so,  Doctor,"  said  the  trader  ;  "  he's  right  across 
the  track  of  trade  with  the  best  land,  timber  and  water 
in  the  univarse,  which  he  can't  use,  which  he  wouldn't 
neither,  if  he  could." 

"  Yes  ;  and  trade  has  no  ill  will  to  the  red  man ;  it 
would  improve  his  condition,  bring  him  comforts,  if 
allowed  to  pass  free  on  the  highway,  a  free  highway." 

"  The  government  will  protect  trade,"  exclaimed  the 
Judge,  catching  at  a  chance. 

"  Will  it?  That's  something  new.  No,  seh,  cept  its 
own  supplies,  it  never  does,"  said  the  trader. 

"It  couldn't  protect  it,  if  it  would;  the  army  at  its 
greatest  strength  ever  allowed  by  law  couldn't  place  a 
corporal's  guard  at  each  of  the  exposed  points  along 
the  lines  of  traffic." 

"The  Injin  knows  as  well  as  you  do,  Jedge,  right 
from  wrong ;  thar's  no  use  talkin  bout  that." 

"True  enough,  Colonel;  philanthropy  has  spoiled 
what  practical  men  should  have  managed.  We  boast 
that  our  land  is  a  refuge  for  the  oppressed ;  we  invite 


»      THE   LONG   JOURNEY— THE  REAR  PORCH.       H3 

them  to  come  and  live  on  the  public  domain.  We  say 
to  the  poor  settler,  go,  till  the  ground  and  you  may 
have  the  land,  —  on  this  condition  :  remember,  we  have 
a  pet  tiger  at  large  there,  and  you  must  not  harm  the 
beast.  But,  says  the  poor  man,  suppose  the  beast 
harms  me?  We  have  nothing  to  do  with  that,  is  the 
reply  ;  now,  how  long  will  it  be  before  the  land  is 
tilled?"  asked  the  Doctor. 

"Not  till  you've  killed  the  tiger,"  said  the  old  man, 
with  warmth,  as  he  continued  : 

"  We  could  manage  the  Injin,  if  thar  was  any  law; 
before  it  can  reach  us,  we  have  to  make  a  law  for 
ourselves  and  take  it  in  our  own  hands.  I  know  we're 
right." 

"It  seems  a  pity,  a  shame  that  we  can't  live  in 
peace.  Wouldn't  the  church  and  school-house  do 
some  good?  "  asked  Mary. 

"  That's  what  we  strive  for,  my  young  friend, —  that 
civilization  may  come  with  its  church  and  school.  It 
is  not  in  the  love  of  strife  that  we  fight  when  wre  must 
fight  If  we  were  craven  enough  not  to  fight,  pray 
who  would  advance  the  cause  of  civilization?" 

"I  reckon  the  white  man's  as  much  at  fault  as  the 
Indian  ;  if  there  wasn't  money  in  it,  the  cause  of  civili 
zation  wouldn't  get  on  a  step."  The  Judge  was  rude  ; 
his  words  were  too  nearly  a  slur  upon  the  motives  of 
those  whose  hospitality  he  enjoyed.  The  Doctor 
colored  and  moved  in  his  chair  ;  Cheviteau  sat  upright, 
his  face  set  firmly,  and  he  laid  down  his  pipe. 


114  SNAP. 

"  Look  heah,  Jeclge,"  he  said  quickly,  "  do  you  think 
I'd  risk  my  life  as  I  do  for  whnt  money  I  make?  " 

"  Xo,  not  you,  no  ;  "  answered  the  Judge,  beginning 
to  hedge. 

The  Doctor  walked  the  porch,  with  quick,  short 
steps. 

"Do  you  think,  sen,  that  a  woman  who  has  forsaken 
all  the  gentler  ways  of  life,  sell,  to  make  her  influence 
the  grace  of  .our  rough  life  here,  seh,  would  bring  to 
us  her  love  and  her  religion,  for  money,—  money,  seh  ! 
No,  seh ;  you're  mistaken ;  in  the  whole  policy  there  is 
a  want  of  law  administered  righteously ;  a  want  of  the 
statesman,  seh,  in  the  place  of  the  politician." 

It  began  to  dawn  upon  the  Judge  that  he  had  stirred 
a  hornet's  nest. 

"Eight,  Doctor,"  joined  in  the  old  man;  "  we  imis 
have  law,  and  the  law's  officers  to  hang  these  skulking 
half-breed  whites;  these  hounds  who  lead  the  pack; 
these  sharks  and  pirates,  without  heart  or  soul,  who 
stir  the  bad  blood  and  the  hate  of  the  redskins,  and 
they  go  free,  always  free.  Law  or  no  law,  we're  men 
with  the  right  to  live  heah;  we'll  tight,  too,  till  you 
law-makers,  Jedge,  bring  us  the  better  day  of  peace 
and  order." 

While  her  father  spoke,  Mary  rose  and  stood  behind 
him ;  she  felt  almost  tempted  to  pat  his  back  in 
approval ;  never  before  had  he  spoken  so  well ;  never 
in  her  sight  had  he  seemed  so  nearly  justified.  She 
spoke  out,  at  last,  with  much  of  his  own  fervor. 

"  \Vell  said,  father;  God  speed  us  to  the  good  day." 


THE   LONG    JOURNEY— THE   REAR  PORCH,      H5 

"  What  I  has  made,  Jedge,"  said  the  trader,  more 
calmly,  "has  cost  a  life  of  hard  knocks  ;  ef  it  war  to 
do  over  agen,  anybody  might  have  my  chance." 

"  They  ought  to  be  taught  better  ;  made  Christians 
of,"  the  Judge  remarked,  as  an  escape. 

"  Christians,  sell !  "  the  Doctor  was  up  again  ;  "  why, 
the  Indian  says,  the  white  men  have  so  many  creeds, 
he  won't  believe  any  of  them.  He  has  his  own  god  — 
a  wolfs  fang  ;  —  if  he  don't  like  it,  he  takes  another  — 
a  bear's  claw  ;  that's  his  Christianity,  seh.  Look  at  the 
farce  of  it.  They're  hemmed  in  to  rot  on  their  own 
vices,  with  liberty  to  slay,  with  no  lawful  restraints  ; 
treated  as  a  foreign  people,  a  political  entity,  a  moral 
nonentity  ;  make  Christians  of  them  !  bah  !  Christians 
have  lived,  worked  and  died  among  them,  and  there 
are  no  converts  :  the  Indians  slay  them,  seh,  now  and 
then,  because  they  talk  too  much." 

"  Can't  the  tinny  be  made  stronger  ? "  asked  the 
Judge. 

"What's  the  use?  You  could  not  make  it  strong 
enough,  unless  you  mean  to  exterminate  the  red  man. 
The  flower  of  the  army,  led  by  a  prince  of  its  bravest 
phalanx,  was  decoyed  into  a  trap  ;  a  thousand  savages 
swarmed  about  the  little  baud  ;  not  a  man  lived  to  tell 
the  story  of  the  -fiendish,  sulphurous  dance  of  death, 
wherein  drunken  squaws  beat  out  the  lives  of  the 
wounded,  or  strangled  them  in  their  agony.  Were 
they  ever  punished?" 

"But—" 

"  But,  hold  on,  seh  ;  then  there's  the  men  my  friend 


116  SNAP. 

speaks  of,  who  turn  a  penny,  seh,  over  the  corpse  of 
the  settler;  who  deal  in  whiskey,  seh;  in  stolen  arms 
and  ammunition,  seh,  and  reap  a  harvest  from  the 
bloody  spoliage  — " 

Quoth  the  parrot  : 

"  Go  it !  —  go  it !  —  go  it !  " 

frD  —  n  that  bird!"  cried  the  Doctor,  brought  to 
a  sudden  halt,  and  feeling  his  temper  rising,  he  hastily 
left  the  porch. 

At  the  request  of  her  father,  Mary  re-told  the  story 
of  her  capture,  from  the  seizure  of  her  person  while 
stooping  over  the  flowers,  to  the  insult  in  the  camp  of 
the  pirates.  All  were  moved  at  the  recital,  but  her 
words  seemed  to  strike  fire  in  the  kindling  rage  of 
Mrs.  Garrulson. 

"What's  that?"  What'd  he  do?"  she  cried  out, 
suddenly,  as  she  drew  her  chair  to  the  side  of  the 
speaker  ;  the  others  gave  attention. 

"He  touched  my  cheek,  insultingly,"  Mary  repeated, 
and  the  color  came  in  haste  to  the  spot  the  rude  hand 
had  offended. 

"  Teched  yer  cheek  !  why  the  .  copper-cull ud  sar- 
pent ;  —  ef  I'd  bin  thar  —  I'd  a  —  " 

"Mauled  him,"  suggested  Whack. 

"Chawed  him  up,"  said  Jump. 

"What  would  you  done  to  him,  old  lady? "asked 
Cheviteau. 

"  I'd  a  punched  his  head,  sartin,"  she  answered. 

Mary's  story  warmed  the  memory  of  her  father,  who 
called  up  an  adventure  with  the  pride  of  one  who  trav- 


THE  LONG   JOURNEY— THE  REAR  PORCH.       \\1 

els  hack  into  a  glowing  past.  He  dwelt,  at  length,  on 
an  escapade  with  the  Sioux  in  the  far-away,  fright- 
haunted  days  of  his  youth ;  how  he  once,  as  a  bearer 
of  dispatches  from  one  fort  to  another,  rode  alone 
through  the  wilderness  alive  with  the  war-striped  foes. 
He  had  singled  out  an  untracked  course  to  avoid  sur 
prise,  and  spoke  of  his  riding  headlong  into  danger ; 
how,  suddenly,  they  sprang  upon  him.  Then  followed 
a  long,  fearful  chase  ;  ceaselessly  the  yells  rang  in  his 
ears  ;  foodless,  and  faint  with  failing  sight,  he  thought 
his  day  had  come,  and  that  a  grave  yawned  for  him  on 
the  drear  and  friendless  prairie.  Hope  was  almost 
gone,  when  his  eye  caught  a  glimpse  of  a  distant  river. 
He  rallied  his  horse,  reached  its  bank,  and  there  his 
mount  gave  out ;  he  plunged  into  the  stream,  as  the 
arrows  fell  around  him  like  storm-driven  twigs.  Now 
beyond  their  hate,  with  succor  from  the  fort  speeding 
towards  him,  and  crazed  with  a  wild  delight,  he  flung 
back  the  bewildered  words  : 

"  Safe  !  you  devils,  safe  !  " 

"Its  Lu's  turn  next,  for  a  scrape,"  said  Whack, 
thereby  bringing  the  couple  to  the  notice  of  all ;  and 
in  the  unhappy  pause,  she  not  hearing  what  was  said, 
was  heard  to  say  : 

"What,  Harry,  jealous  already?" 

"  She's  into  it  without  knowing  how  she  got  there," 
continued  the  tease  laughing,  in  which  the  others 
joined. 

"  What's  the  matter  ?  "  asked  the  innocent  Jumper, 
looking  up  to  find  all  eyes  upon  him.  "  Come,  Miss 


118  SNAP. 

Lu,  let's  walk  ;  we  can't  have  any  peace  where   that 
bull- whacker  is." 

"Miss  Lu!  why  don't  you  say  Mister  Harry,  Miss 
Lu?  "  he  railed  and  teased  in  his  boisterous  way,  until 
the  two  were  out  of  hearing. 

The  Colonel  hastened  off  to  the  office  and  Whack  fol 
lowed  him. 

Mary  was  now  left  alone  with  Mrs.  Garrulson,  who 
had,  the  moment  before,  driven  the  Judge  away  by  the 
discipline  of  her  talk.  Chloe  came  to  the  porch  with 
a  message,  and  Mary  kept  her  seat  to  hear  what  she 
knew  full  well  would  take  place  between  the  two  old 
folks. 

"Ah,  honey,  yuse  safe,  but  deyse  musn't  shoot  no 
mo  squarls,"  Chloe  said  to  begin  with. 

"Why  not?" 

"Kase  you  see,  chile,  dat  wus  de  bang  o'  de  rifle  an 
dars  ben  trubel  eber  sence." 

"That's  so,"  said  Mrs.  G.  ;  "  who'd  a  thunk  it." 

"But  dat  dars  mi  thin  neether ;  it  wus  de  chicken 
clumbin  de  fense  ;  mind  I  dun  tole  yer  so,  afore." 

"Oh,  sho,"  sneered  the  other;  "what's  ther  yuse,  all 
the  time  er  talking  bout  that  ar  rooster?" 

"  Jes  yer  wait  den  ;  jes  keep  on,  ole  Miss  ;  wait  tell 
yer  seed  him  climb  der  fense  agin." 

"  1'se  got  a  game  chicken,  I  reckon  ;  an  he  climbs  a 
fense  all  der  time." 

"  Oh  —he  do,  do  he?  well,  ole  Miss,  dat  ar  chicken 
o'  mine  jes  look  at  me,  to  take  a  warnin." 

"Thet's  nuthiuk  ;  why,  my  chicken  ken  tork." 


THE  LONG   JOURNEY— THE  REAR  PORCH.      H9 

"Tork  !  "  exclaimed  Chloe,  with  uplifted  hands  and 
looking  at  Mary,  who  was  shocked ;  "  now,  ole  Miss, 
not  tork  I  reckon." 

"May  I  never;  yes  indeed,  tork,"  she  replied,  not 
the  least  abashed  ;  "  every  time  a  hawk  flewed  over  thet 
ar  rooster  jes  spread  his  wings  an  cum  a  runnin." 

Here  the  old  woman  rose,  spread  her  arms,  suiting 
gesture  and  voice  to  the  supposed  action  of  the  fowl,  in 
close  mimicry  : 

"Runnin  to  me,  Chloe,  wid  his  mouth  wide  open,  an 
a  hollerin,  Miss  Me-lin-dee  !  Miss  Me-lin-dee  !  you  jes 
oughter  seed  him." 

"Oh,  dat  a  way,"  giggled  the  old  darkey,  shaking 
her  sides ;  and  Mary  joined  in  the  round,  wholesome 
mirth. 


120  SNAP. 


CHAPTER  VIII, 

TIM'S    RIDE N  EARING   THE    END CATO'S    HOLIDAY. 

A  FORTNIGHT  has  passed  over  the  head  of  the  daunt 
less  scout  and  his  mount.  Cantering  down  the  slopes 
of  the  Divide,  to  cut  off  the  turns  of  the  road,  the 
horse  leaped  to  the  green  valley-plain.  For  long 
days,  Beck  had  ridden  a  steady,  unbroken  race.  Day 
in  and  day  out  it  was  an  unchanging  gallop  during  the 
hours  he  gave  to  his  work ;  his  rule  was  as  strict  dur 
ing  the  time  of  rest.  At  dawn  he  was  astride  and 
away,  and  slackened  speed  only  when  the  haat  of  the 
day  came  on.  He  left  the  beaten  track  at  every  curve 
to  shorten  distance ;  from  every  rise  he  took  his  bear 
ings,  sighting  afar  the  greener  spots  for  the  noontide 
halt.  At  such  as  afforded  water  he  got  down,  swabbed 
his  horse's  mouth,  rubbed  down  his  foaming  sides, 
cooled  him  in  the  shade,  if  there  was  none  other  than 
the  mere  shadow  of  a  bush.  For  himself  he  kept  a 
sharp  watch  while  caring  for  his  beast ;  he  often  left 
him  picketed,  to  hail  and  join  a  train  on  foot,  to  obtain 
supplies.  He  boiled  his  coffee  in  the  quart-cup,  ate 
sparingly,  save  Avhen  his  rifle  secured  him  a  feast. 
Then,  in  the  dew-drenched  twilight,  he  rode  forth 
again,  and  drew  rein  at  length  for  the  night  in  the 
thickening  darkness.  Again,  at  daybreak,  he  bridled 


TIM'S  KIDE  —  NEAKING    THE   END.  121 

his  thoroughbred  fresh  from  a  bed  of  daisies,  and  sped 
on.  But  the  wear  and  tear  began  to  show ;  would 
show  were  they  made  of  iron.  The  man's  face,  though 
still  sternly  set,  was  drawn  down,  tanned  and  Scorched 
by  the  sun  ;  the  horse  had  thinned  in  flesh,  feeling  the 
strain. 

All  the  while,  at  the  post,  the  days  dragged  slowly, 
and  though  the  trader  was  busy  with  his  camp  and 
droves,  he  thought  often  and  anxiously  of  the  distant 
horseman. 

Cheviteau  looked  about  him  one  morning,  weeks 
after  Beck's  departure,  for  a  man  to  fill  Pedro's  place, 
who  with  a  wounded  arm  had  been  placed  in  charge  of 
Mary  and  Chloe,  by  the  Doctor's  orders.  A  blooded 
colt  needed  an  airing  under  the  saddle,  and  though 
kind  and  well  broken,  had  been  running  wild  for  a  sea 
son.  Now  full  of  lusty  life,  his  master  thought  best 
to  remind  him  of  his  training. 

The  first  man  the  trader  met  in  camp  was  Tim 
Murphy,  and  for  whom  the  old  man  had  a  warm 
regard. 

''•  The  tap  o'  the  marnin  till  yer  honor,"  he  cried ; 
w  may  they  all  be  as  bright  as  yer  darter's  face." 

ff  Good  mornin,  Tim." 

"  Didn't  the  bys  coine  up  to  the  scratch  tho,  Colonel, 
whin  we  whit  arter  the  pirates?" 

rf  My  boys  allers  do,  seh." 

"  Thrue  for  you,  Colonel." 

"Tim,  I  want  a  man  for  the  drove,  on  special  duty," 
the  trader  said,  coming  to  the  point,  and  his  words 


122  SNAP. 

were  caught  up  by  a  few  idlers  standing  near.  The 
specialty  of  the  service  referred  to  was  to  mount  a 
whip  on  a  thoroughbred  and  to  transfer  him  to  the 
care  of  stock. 

"For  speeshal  dooty,  is't?  Yees  needn't  look  over 
me  showlder  for  the  loike  of  him,  Colonel." 

"Ken  you  ride  a  fast  horse  on  a  chase?"  Many 
teamsters,  while  the  best  of  service  men  with  the  lash, 
were  poor  riders. 

"Didn't  me  fayther  ride  forninst  the  Darby  afore 
me,  an  didn't  yees  see  me  forninst  the  charge  of  the 
bys?" 

"  Well,  I'll  try  you,  Tim  ;  come  along."  The  proof 
of  fitness  lay  in  a  trial. 

The  men  looked  one  at  the  other,  as  the  Colonel  and 
Murphy  moved  away  ;  they  knew  that  the  boasted 
riding  of  their  comrade  was  a  trifle  overdrawn,  and 
that  any  severe  test  would  upset  his  vaunt  and  belittle 
him  with  the  Colonel ;  he  too  had  his  doubts,  but  he 
chose  the  man  as  a  mark  of  friendship,  for  he  liked 
readiness,  not  less  his  candor  and  humor. 

The  grazing  ground  was  soon  reached;  it  was  a 
wide,  green  table  of  level  prairie,  and  the  large  drove 
was  tended  by  the  best  of  drovers,  the  mounted  va- 
queros.  The  trader  beckoned  to  one  of  them,  making 
his  wishes  known  by  signs ;  the  dumb  by-play  mysti 
fied  Tim. 

"An  ken  yees  talk  Mexan  on  yer  fingers?"  he 
asked. 

"Yes,"  the  old  man  answered,  jokingly. 


TIM'S  RIDE  —  NEARING   THE  END.  123 

"It's  a  pity  then  yese  not  tried  em  on  Heinrich's 
lingo  ;  I'd  be  sorry  for  them  same,  whin  yese  do." 

"  When  you  ken  ride  like  a  Mexaii,  Tim,  you'll 
know  sumpin  bout  a  hoss." 

While  the  Colonel  was  speaking,  the  drove,  at  a 
distance,  grew  restive,  and  a  steer  bolted  the  line  of 
the  range  ;  upon  seeing  which,  the  vaqueros  dashed 
after  him. 

"  Watch  the  boys  nab  that  feller,  Tim  ;  they'll  lasso 
his  legs  an  leave  him  on  the  ground  for  punishment." 
The  trader  explained  these  things  to  his  teamster,  as 
his  discipline  was  such  he  never  permitted  his  whips, 
unless  he  was  with  them,  to  cross  the  line  of  the  cattle 
range  ;  this  was  done  to  keep  the  sets  of  men  apart  to 
prevent  feuds. 

Just  as  he  had  said,  one  of  the  Mexicans  pursued  at 
full  run,  throwing  his  coil  as  he  rode;  very  soon  the 
fugitive  was  brought  to,  lying  prone  on  his  back,  while 
the  second  vaquero  caught  his  heels  with  his  noose. 
Between  the  two  the  runaway  was  at  once  in  duress. 

The  horse  was  now  brought  up. 

"Now,  Tim,  heah  conies  the  critter:  he's  a  flyer; 
pure  stock,  seh,  an  he  knows  nothin  but  bisnis  ;  look  at 
that  head,  his  step,  and  that  ar  neck,  seh. 

"  An  is't  the  baste  fer  me  to  ride?" 

"  Yes,  seh  ;  an  you'll  never  mount  another  like  him, 
if  I  know  anything  bout  horseflesh  ;  but  take  a  caution  ; 
don't  you  let  anything  come  up  ahind  him,  mind ;  he 
won't  stan  that,  if  he  knows  it." 

"  Ef  he  knows  it,"  repeated  the  other. 


124  SNAP. 

The  young,  full-fed  colt  pawed  the  earth  proudly ; 
the  eye,  soft,  open,  rolling,  in  every  glance  showed  his 
spirit ;  every  pulsing  vein  his  temper,  breeding  and 
quality. 

"Whoa,  Tad,  you  rowdy,"  said  the  owner,  patting 
the  horse's  face,  as  the  cow-boy  saddled  him. 

"  Jes  as  gentle  as  a  kitten ;  he  was  nussed  on  blue- 
grass,  Tim." 

"An  that's  good  for  em,  is't,  Colonel?"  He  drew 
nearer,  as  he  spoke,  to  be  friendly  with  his  mount,  and 
helped  to  bridle  him. 

The  Irishman  climbed  into  the  saddle  and  rode  away  ; 
the  horse  stepping  off  with  a  keen  desire  for  a  free  rein 
and  the  word  "go."  One  Mexican  looked  at  the 
other,  and  both  smiled  blandly,  while  the  trader  turned 
about  for  the  camp.  He  had  been  with  his  men  but  a 
short  while,  when  each  ceased  speaking  and  listened. 

"  What's  that?  "  was  said.  The  sound  that  came  to 
their  ears  —  a  dull,  distant  thud  —  was  like  the  first 
fretful  rumble  of  a  storm. 

"  The  drove's  stampeded,  boys,"  the  old  man  called 
out,  as  he  mounted  a  wagon,  to  take  in  a  view  of  the 
field.  What  he  saw  was  one  of  those  phenomenal 
panics,  which  suddenly  seize  upon,  not  only  beasts  in 
herds,  but  regiments  in  battle  ;  always  a  fear-stricken 
madness,  without  method  or  restraint. 

Murphy  had  ridden  Tad  close  upon  the  flank  of  the 
grazers  at  a  central  point  on  the  line  of  the  immense 
drove,  and  there  he  halted.  As  luck  would  have  it  so, 
he  had  but  drawn  rein,  wheeling  his  horse  to  face  the 


TIM'S  RIDE—NEARING    THE  END.  125 

cnttlc,  when  a  Texan  showed  signs  of  affright.  A 
trifie,  perhaps,  had  scared  him,  but  the  loud,  angry 
bellow,  the  stamp  of  the  hoofs  and  the  snort  of  rage, 
tilled  his  fellows  at  once  with  terror.  On  the  instant 
every  head  was  up,  the  ears  pricked,  the  horns  ready, 
the  eyes  staring  wide  ;  again  the  mutineer  sounded  his 
alarm,  and  a  hundred  deep  throats  echoed  it;  then, 
with  a  bound,  the  one  broke  away,  his  tail  whirled  like 
a  whip-lash,  his  head  low  down,  and  the  panic  became 
general.  On  the  heels  of  the  leader  the  whole  drove, 
in  crazed  disorder,  broke  ranks  and  fled. 

At  the  first  sign  of  revolt,  the  vnqueros  called  to 
Tim  and  motioned  to  him  to  beat  back  the  rioter  into 
the  drove  ;  but  Murphy,  in  truth,  had  no  time  for  the 
action.  He  had  tried  to  wheel  his  horse  across  the 
path  of  the  steer,  but  a  fortunate,  as  well  as  unforeseen 
turn,  caused  the  horse  to  disobey  ;  had  he  tarried  with 
the  rider  both  might  have  been  borne  down  and  tram 
pled. 

Tad  was  moved  by  a  single  instinct ;  challenged  to 
speed  by  the  ringleader  of  the  drove  in  trying  to  pass 
him,  no  hand  could  now  tame  the  freed  and  truant 
spirit.  The  thoroughbred  was,  therefore,  the  fore 
most  in  a  wild,  headlong,  heedless  race  ;  nor  could  the 
most  skilful  rider  have  wheeled  out  of  the  scrape. 
There  was  a  break-neck  need  to  forgo  ahead,  as  it 
would  have  been  a  deadly  chance  to  cross  the  track  of 
sue!)  a  rabble.  Cattle,  like  sheep,  hold  blindly  to  the 
load,  and  as  the  colt  warmed  to  his  best  leaps,  the  drove 
redoubled  its  speed.  The  vaqueros  on  the  right  and 


120  SXAP. 

left  flank  of  the  mass  had  screamed  themselves  hoarse 
hailing  the  frightened  runaway,  but  all  to  no  purpose. 

Poor  Tim.  It  was  the  ride  of  his  life,  to  which  the 
exploit  of  Gilpin  or  the  scramble  of  Sheridan  would 
bear  but  a  shady  likeness.  Tad  had  caught  the  bit 
between  his  teeth,  clucked  his  head  for  a  hard  run, 
threw  his  feet  into  the  face  of  his  rivals,  and  fairly 
flew  over  the  prairie.  Tim  held  his  seat,  both  hands 
in  the  mane,  both  feet  to  the  heels  through  the  stir 
rups  ;  he  was  hatless,  his  hair  on  end,  the  bridle  lying 
loose  before  him. 

"  Whoa !  "  he  roared  above  the  loud  tramp  behind 
him ;  "the  baste  don't  know  how  to  shtop." 

The  horse  plunged  on. 

"  Whoa  !  "  he  cried  again,  almost  bereft  of  his  senses  ; 
"  an  the  Colonel  calls  him  Toad  !  Whoa,  Toad,  you 
laping  varmint ;  "  but  still  the  horse  ran  on ;  he  leaped 
like  a  deer  and  sped  like  the  blast. 

"Moses!  pfat'll  be  lift  o>  me;  an  this  he  calls  a 
speeshul  sarvice  ;  whoa,  Toad,  you  baste ; "  he  cast  a 
glance  backward  over  his  shoulder  and  turned  pale. 
"Be  jabes,  an  look  at  that  now;  the  whurld  is  full  of 
em,  an  if  this  horse  slips,  good-by  Misther  Tim." 

By  this  time  the  horse's  speed  was  well  spent,  as 
well  as  that  of  the  drove  ;  but  still  holding  the  lead,  his 
movements  seemed  to  indicate  a  return  to  camp  in  a 
well-directed  turn. 

Cheviteau  and  his  men  looked  on  at  the  ludicrous 
plight  of  Murphy,  without  being  able,  until  now,  to 
render  him  aid. 


TIM'S  RIDE—NEARING   THE  END.  127 

"  Get  yer  whips,  all  hands,"  he  said,  "an  be  quick 
about  it ;  if  they  bolt  the  bluff  I'll  lose  a  hundred 
head." 

Tad  had  left  the  drove  some  distance  to  rear,  and 
came  bounding  on.  The  teamsters  stepped  aside  to  let 
him  pass  their  line  ;  then  closing  up  they  lashed  and 
yelled  at  the  cattle  coming  on.  Losing  their  leader, 
the  drove  slackened  its  pace  ;  at  the  same  time  the 
vaqueros  turned  it  for  the  tramping  ground,  where  it 
soon  became  quieted. 

The  horse  had  gone  on,  until  near  the  spot  where 
Cheviteau  was  standing,  and  there  he  stopped  short  at 
his  owner's  call.  Tim  leaped  down,  and  struck  the 
ground  with  a  thud. 

"  Jabbers  ! "  he  exclaimed,  as  the  breath  escaped 
him. 

"  Are  you  hurt,  Tim?  "  asked  the  trader. 

"  Deil  a  bit  ken  I  tell  ye,  Colonel." 

"  Well  seh  ;  what  do  you  think  of  my  colt?" 

"  Yer  colt?  I'fath,  but  Toad's  a  good  name  for  him, 
— barring  the  wings." 

"  He  has  a  splendid  spirit,  Tim." 

"  Speerit  is't?" 

"Yes,  seh  ;  good  blue-grass  breeding." 

"Thinets  a  good  thing,  d'ye  mind,  that  he's  got 
down  to  graen." 

Time  was  never  wasted  under  the  trader's  manage 
ment  ;  he  kept  bis  men  well  in  hand,  and  combining 
his  trade  with  the  avocation  of  a  grazer,  there  were 
seasons  of  labor  other  thar  those  which  his  expeditions 


128  SA-IP. 

required.  So  it  was  that  his  droves  increased,  for  in 
his  penny-wise  foresight  the  outlying  meadows  near 
about  his  camp  were  turned  into  haytields.  He  sowed 
and  reaped  and  laid  up  against  the  sweeping  blasts  and 
snow-gusts  of  hard  winters.  Few  of  his  trade  thrived 
like  him ;  few  had  the  thrift  to  combine  these  differ 
ent  pursuits.  Stirring  as  all  his  daily  occupations 
were  he  could  not  lay  aside  a  growing  anxiety  about 
Beck ;  he  had  been  gone  six  weeks,  and  Cheviteau 
often  turned  from  his  labor  towards  the  horizon,  to 
strain  his  eyes  in  the  hope  of  gladdening  them  with  a 
sight  of  the  returing  rider. 

The  summer  was  in  its  earliest  prime  and  the 
mowers'  blades  were  seen  flashing  in  the  sunlight. 
Early  and  late  the  wide  swarths  fell  under  the  scythes, 
and  the  rakers  followed  in  the  track  of  the  swinging 
blades.  Mary  was  seen  again  on  the  path  to  the  ham 
let,  and  Mrs.  Garrulson  tarried  under  the  hospitable 
shelter.  All  the  while  the  Judge  was  busy;  he  wrote 
lengthy  scrawls,  and  waited  what  the  boats  might 
bring  in  reply,  with  an  air  of  authority.  He  was  found 
at  odd  times,  in  hidden  nooks,  conversing  low  with 
such  as  would  listen.  The  Doctor  talked  much  and 
was  fussy,  subsiding  to  a  calmer  temper  on  the  banks 
of  the  creek,  watching  the  bob  of  his  line.  In  this 
way  days  ran  into  weeks,  in  the  quiet  of  a  far-away 
settlement. 

Beck  was  nearing  the  end  of  the  almost  endless 
stretch;  horse  and  rider  were  worn  to  the  bone.  The 
wear  upon  the  man  had  left  him  gaunt  and  angular ; 


TIM'S  RIDE  —  NEARING    THE   END.  129 

the  skin  of  his  face,  neck  and  hands  had  peeled  ;  where 
the  sun  had  scorched  deeply  there  were  blisters.  He 
walked  with  a  halt,  the  muscles  of  his  limbs  were 
crippled.  His  faithful  stallion  never  failed  in  pluck 
or  endurance,  but  the  proud  neck  was  limp,  held  low, . 
the  eyes  drooping,  the  ribs  could  be  counted  and  the 
gloss  of  his  satin  coat  had  faded ;  his  hoofs  were 
cracked  and  tender,  and  when  saddling  Beck  took  up 
much  that  was  to  spare  in  the  girth. 

There  was  one  stretch  more ;  the  horse  was  equal  to 
it  after  a  more  than  usual  rest.  Beck  gave  him  water 
where  they  camped,  drew  the  straps  tightly  in  place, 
and  mounted.  He  had  to  cross  the  northern  skirt  of 
a  small,  waterless  desert.  An  angry  day  had  faded 
out  in  a  brazen  sundown,  and  the  scout's  trail  lay 
through  the  white,  baked  dust ;  the  breeze  was  heavy 
and  stifling  and  came  fitfully  over  the  drear  morass. 

The  gang  led  by  Cartwright  had  traveled  at  a  steady 
jog,  — the  short  quick-step  of  the  prairie  ponies,  — and 
the  incredible  stamina  of  their  Aviry  frames  held  out. 
They  hurried  on,  hiding  by  day  to  avoid  arrest  by 
whites  or  attacks  from  unfriendly  Indians.  Through 
the  nights  and  days  of  long  weeks  spun  out,  they  had 
left  behind  them  the  wide,  green  valley  lands  and 
softer  skies,  and  rode  a  path  fringed  with  the  sage  and 
thistle,  where  speary  grasses  withered  in  the  sun. 

Forty  miles  away,  in  the  twilight  of  the  angry  day, 
where  earth  and  sky  were  joined  in  one  long  gleam, 
they  saw  upon  the  silvery  space  a  silhouette  of  a  horse' 
and  rider.  The  outlines  were  perfect,  though  the 


130  SArAJ\ 

figure  was  but  a  speck ;  they  had  seen  the  forms  of 
Beck  and  his  stallion. 

He  had  distanced  the  gang,  though  they  knew  it 
not,  and  by  the  aid  of  his  rare  knowledge  inroad-craft, 
he  had  ridden  boldly,  and  clear  of  all  opposing  dan 
gers. 

Days  rolled  on.  Chtoe,  as  mistress  of  certain  small 
matters,  had  laid  down  a  day's  duty  for  the  unruly 
Cato. 

"Now  mine,  dus  yer  h'yar ;  gwy  long  arter  dat  cow 
an  caf,  out  y aimer." 

"Yes'm;"  he  answered  with  quick  consent,  for  to 
watch  the  cow  called  him  away  from  other  and  more 
irksome  tasks,  and  made  his  jaunt  a  holiday. 

"  I'se  a  gwyne  —  but  er  —  " 

"  None  uv  yer  foolishtist ;  gwy  long." 

"  Ain't  I  a  gwyne ;  kase  I  knows  dar  ain't  no 
spooks  out  dar,  is  dar?" 

"  Spooks  ! "  the  old  woman  held  counsel  with  her 
self  as  to  the  boy's  misgiving,  in  which  she  shared. 
She  gave  heed  to  his  words  in  her  own  awe  of  the 
spirits  said  to  be  earth-bound  to  the  space  around  the 
haunted  cabin. 

"  I  kinder  reckon  not,  Cato  ;  but  ef  yer  sees  a  spook, 
h'yar's  wat'll  fotch  him ;  "  a  bent  horse-shoe  nail  was 
the  charm  she  hung  round  the  lad's  neck.  His  doubts 
took  wing  from  the  corn-fed  content  of  his  nature, 
sparkling  in  a  flute-like  whistle,  which  the  birds 
caught  up,  as  one. 

Chloe  cast  a  look  after  him  as  he  went  along ;  a  self- 


TIM'S  RIDE—NEARING    THE  END.  131 

reproving  look,  as  if  she  had  doomed  him  to  be  the 
witches'  prey,  and,  perchance,  she  thought,  never 
again  would  his  form  be  seen. 

"H'yah,  boy;"  she  yelled,  as  a  vagrant  hope  lent 
her  another  talisman,  "ef  dat  ar  nail  don't  do,  eat  a 
danjelion  ;  clus  yer  h'yah  me?  " 

The  boy  heard  her,  and  called  back  : 

"  Danjelion  !  "  He  ran  on,  whistling,  out  of  her 
sight,  into  the  wide,  full  gladness  of  the  summer  day. 

The  gray  old  earth,  so  gently  wild,  lay  in  the  beams 
of  the  eastern  sun,  all  lonely,  lovely ;  over  it  swept 
from  the  dance  of  the  leaves,  a  breath  of  the  woodland 
fragrance,  winging  the  sun-spun  mites  through  the 
golden  vista.  The  snowy  piles  of  curdled  clouds  lay 
low  on  bars  of  blue  ;  a  silence  perfect,  moved  only  by 
the  little  singing  whispers  : 

"The  unshorn  fields,  boundless,  beautiful, 

As  if  the  ocean  in  his  gentlest  swell 

Stood  still,  with  all  his  rounded  billows  fixed 

And  motionless  forever." 

The  rich,  full  voice  of  the  little  darkey  broke  in  on 
the  waiting  stillness  ;  its  notes  were  like  the  clarion 
et's,  rising,  swelling  into  a  inolody  of  tuneful  sounds, 
a  crude  cadence,  rude,  loud,  but  sweet.  He  sang  a 
camp-meeting  jubilee  ;  the  words  a  pot-pourri  of  his 
fears,  his  hopes  and  his  fun  : 

' '  Gel-o-ree  !     Gel-o  -ree ! 
I'se  wun  ob  de  Marster's  ban, — 

Gel-o-ree !     Gel-o-ree ! 
Oh-h  hap-pee,  hap-pee  Ian ; 


132  SNAP. 

Ef  ynse  git  clar,  afore  I  cluse, 
Oh,  lemme  foller  in  yer  shuse, 
Wen  I  git  dar,  I'll  tell  cle  nuse." 

Oh-h  hap-pee,  hap-pee  Ian. 
(Clapping  hands.) 

Gel-o-ree !     Gel-o-ree ! 
I'se  wun  ob  cle  Marster's  ban, — 

Gel-o-ree !     Gel-o-ree ! 
Oh-h  hap-pee,  hap-pee  lari ; 
De  clebbil  laid  awake  at  nite 
His  tail  a  sliakin,  was  a  site, 
He  couldn't  hide  afore  the  lite, 

Oh-h  hap-pee,  hap-pee  Ian. 
(Laughing.) 

Gel-o-ree !     Gel-o-ree ! 
Ise  wun  ob  cle  Marster's  ban, — 

Gel-o-ree !     Gel-o-ree ! 
Oh-h  hap-pee,  hap-pee  Ian  ; 
Wen  Gabril  seed  cle  debbil  grin, 
His  tail  a  flappin  up  at  him, 
He  chop  it  off  an  druv  it  in, 

Oh-h  hap-pee,  hap-pee  Ian. 
(Dancing.) 

Gel-o-ree !     Gel-o-ree ! 
Ise  wun  ob  de  Marster's  ban, — 

Gel-o-ree !     Gel-o-ree ! 
Oh-h  hap-pee,  hap-pee  Ian ; 
I  terry  on  de  big,  green  flo, 
De  boat  es  waitin  on  cle  sho, 
To  lib  an  laf  fer  eber  mo, 
Oh-h  hap-pee,  hap-pee  Ian. 

All  at  once  the  song  ceased/ and  on  looking  np  the 
singer  found  himself  in  the  spectral  shade  of  the  cabin. 
He  had  reached  its  terrors  step  by  step,  as  if  led  by 
an  unseen  hand,  and  from  the  chill  of  sudden  fright 
the  glory  of  his  jubilee  faded. 


TIM'S  RIDE  —  NEARING    THE  END.  133 

The  bark  of  a  squirrel  transfixed  him. 

All  the  rounded  wrinkles  of  a  merry  face  were 
strained  and  straight ;  the  mouth  closed  tightly,  like 
the  lid  of  a  music-box ;  the  eyes  grew  larger,  larger, 
until  the  whites  shone  pale  upon  the  cheeks,  the  hands 
were  useless,  the  knees  askew. 

Again  the  squirrel  barked ;  the  silence  deepened, 
and  like  a  sheet  of  brass  from  the  blazing  sky,  the 
noon-sheen  fell. 

"  Who  clat  ?  "  he  asked,  in  a  feeble,  husky  tone. 

"  Dat !  "  replied  the  rotting  logs,  the  hollow  chimney. 

"Dat  you,  Misto  Johnsing?"  he  asked  again,  in  a 
smirkish  rally  of  the  nerves,  as  he  edged  away,  look 
ing  over  his  shoulder. 

"I  know'd  yer,"  he  said,  playing  oft'  with  his  fright 
as  his  steps  widened. 

Again  the  squirrel  barked. 

The  boy  broke  into  a  run,  and  fear  lent  speed  to  his 
strides  along  the  margin  of  the  muddy  creek,  until  his 
breath  came  fast,  and  he  threw  himself,  laughing,  into 
the  green,  high  grass. 

"Who's  afeerd  !  "  he  said,  as  the  wrinkles  wreathed 
about  the  mouth  again;  it  opened,  like  a  clam,  and 
never  a  pearl  in  its  sea-shell  home  shone  brighter  than 
the  teeth. 

Just  behind  him,  in  the  sunlight,  lay  a  broad,  smooth 
slab ;  a  virgin  tablet  to  be  carved  by  Him  who  writes 
with  the  lightning.  To  the  imp  it  was  an  itching 
temptation ;  he  sprang  to  the  warm,  hard  surface,  and 
the  fall  of  the  bare  foot  sounded  like  a  smack  of  the 


134  SMir- 

hands.  Then  his  heels  flew  up,  and  he  sang  again,  all 
joyously,  the  patter  of  the  feet  beating  time. 

Now  he  crawled  down  the  bank  of  the  stream,  and 
in  the  glare  he  seated  himself  on  a  flat,  unshaded  rock, 
arranging  his  hook  and  line. 

The  creek  was  an  inlet  from  the  bend  of  the  river ; 
it  had  wormed  its  way  deeply  across  the  plateau  by 
the  cabin,  down  the  gorge,  to  where  it  met  the  current 
again,  like  the  string  of  a  bow.  Here  it  was  that  Beck 
rode  with  fierce  leaps,  on  the  eventful  night  of  Mary's 
capture,  and  stood  sentinel  over  the  pirates'  cave.  It 
was  a  sullen,  murky  water-course,  spreading  wide  and 
shallow  between  high  bluffs. 

At  the  first  spring  of  the  boy's  pole,  casting  his 
shotted  string  far  out  into  the  current,  a  hungry, 
shovel-headed  "  cat "  swallowed  the  bait  and  was  drawn 
up  ;  the  fish  was  soon  afloat,  strung  to  a  tow. 

Now  yawning,  nodding  he  gave  signs  of  sleepiness, 
and  bathed  in  the  sunshine,  his  form  was  stretched  to 
the  undenied  beneficence  ;  he  tied  the  fish-line  to  his 
toe,  nor  was  his  the  first  inventive  genius  that  made 
the  foot  a  hitching-post  during  slumber.  The  fabled 
fisherman  of  "Ole  Varginny  sho  "  was  whirled  to  his 
doom  through  a  like  caper.  Nor  was  it  ever  known, 

"  After  all  their  guessing  and  all  their  figgerin, 
Whether  the  nigger  a-iishing  had  gone, 
Or  the  fish  had  gone  a-niggerin." 

Doctor  Tom  also,  with  his  hook  and  line,  had  saun 
tered  forth  to  the  creek's  outlet,  counting  surely  that 


TIM'S  RIDE  —  NEARING    THE  END.  135 

his  rod,  only  less  than  Aaron's  in  its  virtue,  would  be 
the  marvel  of  the  sport;  his  up-stream  trudge,  over 
brake  and  briar  and  pool,  had  repaid  his  toil,  with  the 
common  luck  of  his  tribe,  — scratched  limbs  and  a 
minnow.  Tired  truly  and  well-worn,  he  found  a  seat 
under  a  sycamore  : 

"  Its  broad,  dark  bough  in  solemn  repose 
Far  over  the  silent  brook." 

After  a  while  he  stirred  himself,  and  went  on,  to 
come  upon  the  dreaming  darkey.  It  was  a  bright 
spark  of  fun  that  lighted  up  the  Doctor's  face  as  he 
quietly  took  the  large,  fat  cat  from  the  boy's  line  and 
put  his  own  little  chub  in  the  place  of  it.  Passing  on, 
he  gave  a  thought  to  the  bliss  of  ignorance  and  the 
folly  of  wisdom. 

Cato  slept  like  a  top,  with  the  healthy  snore  of  a 
saucy  boy  ;  long  he  slept ;  the  plump,  fat  face  bore  no 
lines  save  the  smooth  ones  where  the  laugh  comes  in  ; 
a  genuine  type  he  was  of  "  the  ebo-shin  and  gizzard 
foot,"  a  product  of  hoe-cake  and  bacon.  He  slept  on, 
and  not  a  nibble  stirred  his  sound  repose  ;  how  long 
in  the  calm,  sweet  day  he,  lay  there,  he  knew  not. 

"  Hal-lo  !  hal-lo  !  you  boy  !  " 

Presently  the  hail  struck  the  dull  ear  of  the  sleeper; 
he  came  to  slowly,  but  as  the  call  was  repeated  he 
jumped  to  his  feet : 

"  Ken  I  cross  the  crick?  how  deep?"  asked  a  horse 
man  on  the  further  mar^e  of  the  stream. 


13G  SA'AP. 

"  Yes,  seh  !  "  answered  Cato,  half  awake  and  scratch 
ing  his  chin. 

Kings  have  been  dethroned,  and  the  world  set  agog 
through  less  mistakes  than  chanced  between  these  two. 
The  boy  answered  as  to  the  man's  right  to  cross,  and 
the  man  fixed  in  his  mind  the  depth  of  the  water  by 
the  boy's  motion  to  his  chin. 

The  imp  sleepily  looked  on ;  he  saw  the  stranger 
disrobe,  but  not  until  he  and  his  horse  bad  reached  mid 
stream  did  the  truth  make  its  way  to  his  brain.  Then 
a  laugh  rang  out  that  startled  the  silence,  and  snatching 
at  his  luck,  wTith  a  leap,  the  boy  was  gone. 

The  man,  pale  with  rage,  leading  his  horse,  gained 
dry  land ;  he  stamped  and  swore,  bit  his  lip  and  swore 
again;  fora  gentleman,  bare,  cuts  a  most  ridiculous 
figure,  to  be  laughed  at,  outright,  by  a  little  black 
scamp. 

He  had  crossed  the  stream,  scarcely  reaching  his 
knees. 

But  he  rode  on,  and  for  years  his  ire  kept  warm ; 
in  the  end  : 

"  The  moral  was  this,  as  somebody  told  him, 
That  he  had  sold  negroes,  and  a  negro  had  sold  him." 

"Whar's  de  cow?"  said  Chloe,  as  her  factotum 
stood  before  her. 

"  Spooks  ! "  he  replied,  with  a  face  put  on  for  the 
time. 

"  Spooks  !  whar's  eny  ?  Wat  dese  got  to  do  wid  de 
cow,  hey?" 


TIM'S  RIDE—NEARING    THE  END.  137 

"  Eat  do  cow  up  ;  hecrd  um  champin." 

"Wat!  oh,  hesh  boy;  spooks  don't  eat  cow-meat; 
I  knows  dat." 

"  Seed  um." 

"  Go  long  yer  triflin  rnoke ;  you'd  er  ruinge  dcr 
famerly." 

It  Avas  the  chance  the  fat  rascal  longed  for,  and  when 
alone  his  loud  laugh  was  heard  again,  as  he  thought  of 
the  stranger's  plight.  Now,  for  the  first  time,  he 
caught  sight  of  the  fish,  which,  as  he  ran,  had  dangled 
behind  him. 

"  Its  swunk ;  laws  a  massy,  how  dis  nig  mus  er 
run'd ;  "  but  here  a  fright  came  upon  him,  lest  while 
he  slept  the  spooks  had  bewitched  his  catch ;  the  boy 
laughed  no  more  that  day. 


138  SNAP. 

CHAPTER  IX. 

THE     CONSPIRACY. 

A  FAMISHED  pair  were  the  horse  and  rider,  when  the}' 
rode  out  the  last  long  mile.  Beck  drew  up,  challenged 
by  a  crowd  of  vaqueros  at  a  ranche  not  far  from  the 
Mexican  town.  One  who  spoke  English  accosted 
him  : 

"  What  you  want,  caballero  ?  " 
"Whar'sFerati?" 

The  man  turned,  and  raising  his  voice  to  a  hallo, 
called  out  : 

"  Senor  Don  Ferati !  "  The  Senor  was  not  afield  and 
came  at  once  to  the  door  of  his  low,  hay-thatched 
cabin. 

"Hi,  hi,  caramba,  man ;  here  am  I  and  not  a  league 
oft*,"  he  said  angrily  in  Spanish  ;  and  then  speaking  to 
the  rider  in  broken  English  : 

"Americano,  will  he  come  down?"  he  said. 
Beck  dismounted  and,  standing  face  to  face  with  the 
grazer,  the  latter  knew  him  on  the  instant,  and  in  a 
fervid  show  of  friendship,  peculiar  to  his  people,  he 
said : 

"Kari,  my  soul;  by  the  padre's  elbow,  Capitaine 
Beck;  caramba;  in,  in,  my  friend,  my  companion,  ca- 
rajo  ;  stay  with  me  forever,  —  Manuela  !  —  Manuela  ! " 
He  kept  on  in  this  strain,  calling  f  ;r  some  one  within, 


THE    CONSPIRACY.  139 

and  presently  the  slender,  graceful  furm,  the  sweet, 
olive-tinged  face,  and  the  sparkling  eyes  of  his  young 
and  very  pretty  wife  were  seen  in  the  doorway. 
"  Make  ready,  child,  for  my  friend,  the  Americano  ;  a 
good  friend,  my  Manuela ;  in,  seiior ; "  and  Beck  en 
tered  the  dwelling. 

"Where  from,  good  friend?"  asked  the  Mexican, 
eyeing  the  wearied  man  before  him. 

"  From  sunrise,"  Beck  answered  with  a  cold  smile, 
signing  to  make  himself  understood,  and  naming  the 
far-away  river  from  which  he  had  set  out. 

The  host  stared  at  the  speaker,  as  at  a  ghost  from 
the  grave,  crossed  himself,  and  threw  up  his  hands, 
exclaiming : 

"Quien  sabe?  great  saints!  Down,  down,  good, 
brave  horseman  ;  do  rest."  Then  he  spread  a  poncho 
on  the  hard  floor. 

But  Beck  was  still  alive  and  wakeful  to  his  purpose. 

After  going  buck  through  the  past  of  their  acquaint 
ance  over  a  meal  quickly  served  by  the  young  senora, 
Beck  turned  to  the  business  before  them.  It  was,  in 
brief,  to  engage  Ferati  to  enter  the  town  and  watch  for 
the  arrival  of  the  pack-train,  to  note  the  movements 
of  the  gang  and  to  find  out  the  plans  of  Cartwright. 
He  paid  his  host  a  fair  sum  to  serve  him,  and  when 
Ferati  had  seen  that  his  guest  was  well  disposed  in  a 
quiet  rest,  and  his  horse  unsaddled,  he  gave  over  his 
ranche  to  a  trusty  dependent.  He  charged  him,  on 
pain  of  death,  to  be  good  to  the  needs  of  his  visitor, 
and  bidding  his  wife  prepare  herself  for  the  fandango 


140  SNAP. 

in  town,  he  called  up  his  mounts.  Very  soon  thereaf 
ter  the  two  rode  off,  and  riding  fast  were  soon  out  of 
sight  in  the  darkness. 

In  the  dawn-lighted,  sweeter  stretches,  having 
crossed  the  southern  rim  of  the  dead  waste,  the  pirates 
halted.  Just  beyond  their  camp  the  noted  Spanish 
village  of  the  south-west  border  Liy,  loosely  flecking 
the  plain.  Cartwright  and  Cruz  rode  away  from  the 
camp  and  into  the  plaza  of  the  dingy  puebla. 

Among  piles  of  fruit  and  vegetables  sat  the  rabble 
of  the  market-place.  Ill-favored  faces  peered  forth 
from  the  hoods  of  their  dirty  rebozos,  and  there  was  a 
babel  of  distracting  sounds  from  a  mob  of  donkeys, 
yelping,  wolf-like  curs  and  swearing  muleteers.  Inter 
mingling,  there  were  sounds  less  harsh ;  the  jingle  of 
spurs,  the  small,  soft  voice  of  the  child,  the  bass  of 
the  mountaineer,  and  a  note  of  richest  music,  swelled 
in  the  laugh  of  a  hoydenish  poblano. 

r<  Tortillas!  tortillas!"  cried  a  muchachita. 

"  Chile  bueno!  Chile  Colorado!  Chile  caliente!" 
screamed  a  concinera,  with  his  fiery  stew. 

"Pan  y  leclie,  pan  blancho  !  "  the  song  of  a  girl  whose 
sweet  notes  were  overborne  by 

"  Carbon!    carbon!"  from  a  vendor  of  charcoal. 

"Aqua!  aqua  limpia  excellent?"  bawled  an  aqua- 
dore,  and  the  thirsty  thief  on  his  horse  beckoned  for  a 
draught  of  the  excellent,  limpid  water. 

The  riders  tarried  not,  but  pushed  on  in  the  blank 
glare  of  the  white  mud  walls,  and  anon  drew  up  before 
a  squalid  abode.  The  low,  thatched  roof  of  the  fonda 


THE    CO   S PIRACY.  141 

darkened  the  doorway,  which  gave  poor  promise  of 
cheer  within.  Straightway  the  two  approached  the 
tcndejohn  and  there  quaffed  a  dram  of  pulque,  handed 
down  from  the  tawdry  ornaments  of  a  dusty  shelf. 
Soon  thereafter  they  separated,  having  arranged  for 
another  meeting.  Cartwright,  after  a  meal,  found  a 
hammock  under  the  eaves  outside,  and  fell  asleep 
amonjr  the  buzzing  <rnats. 

i^  O    <—/ 

In  the  dusk,  as  he  shook  himself  out  of  his  stupor 
and  sat  down  on  the  door-step,  a  tall  savage  strode  by. 
The  boss  knew  the  Indian's  tribe  by  the  long  bone  bow 
he  carried.  There  was  just  light  enough  to  see  in  the 
look  askant  of  the  swarthy  face,  a  cruel  sternness, 
hard  as  a  statue's  visage.  The  rude  dignity  of  the 
chief's  walk  was  heightened  by  the  fall  of  a  trailing 
blanket,  lending  grace  to  his  form  and  carriage.  Cart- 
wright  noted  him  well ;  noted  also  that  every  passer 
by  stepped  out  of  his  path  with  a  shudder  or  a  curse, 
and  children  ran  crying,  as  from  the  presence  of  a 
ghost.  They  said,  with  bated  breath,  that  a  tyrant,  in 
alliance  with  these  Indians,  ruled  them  ;  swayed  them 
through  their  fears  of  raids,  pillage  and  slaughter,  not 
uncommon ;  and  that  this  tribe  was  the  police  of  the 
tyrant. 

The  nightly  revel  had  begun,  and  while  the  thief 
danced  with  a  bearish  joy  among  the  crowd  that 
thronged  the  banquette  of  the  tavern,  he  caught  the  eye 
of  Cruz  ;  he  joined  his  associate  and  followed  him. 
As  he  passed  out  an  old  trapper  nudged  a  companion : 

"Did  you  see  that  land  pirate?" 


142  SNAP. 

"Whar,  Jack?" 

"  Him  as  jes  went  out ;  that  buffler-headed  rough 
that  war  giving  us  a  bar  dance." 

"  Him,  yes ;  he  cavorted  round  like  a  hobbled 
mule." 

"Spot  him,  chum;  he's  a  thief ;  the  biggest  on  the 
plains." 

Through  dark  lanes  on  the  skirt  of  the  town,  to  a 
tumble-down  adobe,  Cruz  and  Oartwright,  sneaking 
like  hungry  cayotes,  found  awaiting  them  in  the  d;irk- 
ness,  the  savage  who  strode  by  in  the  twilight.  They 
had  met  to  chaffer  over  the  price  of  blood  with  a  full 
flask  and  clinking  gold,  and  out  of  the  glare  of  one 
depravity,  the  pirate  seemed  to  have  found  another, 
and  more  congenial  vice. 

Ferati  had  once  been  a  celebrated  matador,  but  his 
fall  was  that  of  Lucifer, — so  he  thought,— from  the  idol 
of  Mexico's  capital  to  an  outcast,  as  he  was  wont  to 
style  himself,  in  deep  chagrin  that  soured  his  temper. 
Not  one  of  the  untamed,  lion-like  bulls,  tormented, 
unfed,  infuriated  to  overcome  his  prowess,  had  for 
years  daunted  his  courage  nor  escaped  his  skill.  Each 
had  been  as  a  plaything  to  his  two-edged  rapier  and 
his  blood-red  banner.  With  what  a  dilettante  grace 
his  proud  form  moved  about  the  arena,  —  such  was  his 
style  in  deploring  his  loss,  —  as  with  the  bow  of  a 
courtier  he  waved  aside  all  other  competitors  for  the 
honors  of  the  fight,  and  drove  his  steel  to  the  hilt. 

"Bravo  Ferati ;  bravissima  !  "  cried  all.  And  so  it 
came  about,  that  the  mob  held  him  in  high  esteem, 


THE    CONSPIRACY.  143 

while  senoras  and  senoritas  clapped  their  hands  as  he 
entered  the  ring,  or  wreathed  his  brow  when  he  left 
it. 

It  was  a  gala  day  when  he  met  his  fate ;  a  high 
festival  drew  the  beauty  and  the  chivalry,  the  dignita 
ries  of  church  and  state,  the  populace  to  the  amphi 
theatre.  The  grandees  were  in  genial  humor,  the 
people  happy,  and  the  scene  within  the  circular  pen, 
where  he  stood  victor  over  the  slain  and  mangled 
bodies  of  a  dozen  bulls,  turned  the  head  of  the  vain, 
though  skilful  fellow,  and  raised  him  to  glory's 
heights.  The  flaunting  handkerchief,  the  flying  bou 
quet,  the  wave  of  the  silken  scarf,  shouts  of  men, 
cries  of  children,  the  squeaking  voices  of  the  old, 
manifested  a  greedy  delight  in  the  cruel  and  flagitious 
sport. 

The  scene  had  become  commonplace  by  his  repeated 
triumphs,  when  the  trumpets  heralded  the  coming  on 
of  the  last  surviving  beast.  Foaming  with  rage, 
crazed  by  the  smell  of  blood  and  the  torturing  missiles 
flung  into  his  corral,  in  leaped,  with  a  deer-like  bound, 
a  shining-coated,  coal-black  bull.  His  horns  were 
sharp  as  spear-points,  his  roar  like  an  uncaged  lion. 
Pawing  the  earth,  his  reddened  eyes  gleamed,  and  the 
thick,  white  foam  covered  the  breast  and  flanks. 

"Hi,  hi,  tauro ;  beautiful  bull;  at  them,  beauty!" 
cried  the  mob,  rising  to  cheer. 

And  there  was  method  in  the  animal's  madness 
which  left  little  to  doubt ;  it  was  the  majesty  of  frenzy  ; 
there  was  no  need  of  spurs  to  goad  him  on,  he  leaped 


144  SNAP. 

viciously  to  the  assault.  Ferati  was  unhorsed  in  the 
first  charge ;  nothing  could  divert  the  onset,  for  the 
bull  attacked  with  fell  intent;  neither  flags,  explod- 
ents,  spear-thrusts  nor  the  needle-pointed  barbs,  could 
turn  aside  the  straight,  full-forced  drive  of  the 
horns  into  the  vitals  of  the  matador's  horse.  Gored 
again  and  again,  the  horse  fell  and  expired,  ripped 
open,  despite  the  dexterous  handling  of  the  rider. 
The  champion  was  now  afoot,  his  courage  a  little 
shaken,  but  still  he  saluted  with  his  sword  upraised, 
as  the  bull,  throwing  the  earth  in  fury,  made  ready. 
There  was  one  chance,  one  only,  and  the  man's  best. 
With  a  spring,  he  planted  his  foot  between  the  horns, 
leaped  astride  the  back,  and  essayed  to  drive  his  sword 
behind  the  shoulder.  But  the  bull  with  a  quick  dash 
hurled  -him  to  the  ground,  and  tossed  him  aloft  amid 
the  taunts  and  jeers  of  the  crowd.  The  ring  had  been 
cleared  of  attendants,  several  wounded  and  one  slain 
outright,  and  there  was  little  help  for  the  bull-tighter, 
as  he  struck  the  earth,  and  was  again  hurled  high. 

But  now  a  sudden  sight  caused  a  tremor  and  a  cry  of 
alarm  in  the  brutish  multitude. 

"Out,  out,  little  one;  death  to  the  child;  back, 
baby  ;  go  quick  ;  in  the  love  of  God,  go  back  !  " 

The  clamor  came  in  an  instant  of  terror  on  seeing  a 
young,  gay  girl,  dressed  like  a  danseuse,  her  red  scarf 
floating  from  the  waist,  scale  the  barrier  and  descend 
into  the  arena.  The  bull  glanced  angrily  at  the  nymph, 
and  turned  furiously,  to  charge  so  bold  a  challenger. 
But  the  nimble-footed  sprite,  with  supreme  courage, 


THE   CONSPIRACY.  145 

held  her  way  across  the  ring,  and  then  with  a  spring, 
catching  a  hand-hold  on  the  logs  of  the  inclosure,  drew 
herself  up  to  its  rim.  Sitting  there,  she  kept  the  roar 
ing  savage  at  bay.  It  was  this  diversion  that  saved 
the  bull-fighter's  life.  His  body  was  rescued,  while  it 
lasted,  and  having  recovered  from  his  wounds,  he  mar 
ried  the  girl,  and  hid  his  defeat  and  shame  in  the  life 
of  a  cattle-raiser. 

Beck's  acquaintance  with  the  Mexican  had  been  of 
long  duration.  Once,  when  a  sergeant  of  dragoons  at 
a  fort  near  by,  he  was  sent  out  with  a  squad  to  recon 
noitre.  He  came  upon  Ferati  fighting  hard  with  a 
band  of  redskins  who  had  stolen  his  cattle.  Beck 
drove  back  the  thieves,  rescued  the  man's  stock,  and 
his  friendship  had  been  warm  and  sincere.  He  knew 
nothing  of  him  further  than  his  favors,  his  gratitude, 
and  those  natural,  passionate  extremes  common  to  his 
race. 

To  the  overtures  of  Cartwright,  the  Indian  moodily 
by  signs  made  answer.  He  asked  a  large  sum  in 
money  and  an  equal  share  in  spoils  as  the  condition 
upon  which  he  would  agree  to  plunder  the  trader's 
train.  It  was  useless  for  the  plotters  to  speak  of  an 
easy  victory  and  a  rich  reward,  the  chief  yielded  noth 
ing.  So  the  rogues  parted  to  meet  again,  the  night 
following,  at  the  same  place.  Cruz  and  Cartwright, 
the  next  morning,  were  puzzled  to  devise  means  with 
which  to  bribe  the  savage.  Before  evening,  the  land 
lord  was  pressed  into  service  and  soon  became  as  zeal- 


146  SNAP. 

ous  as  any  one  of  the  cabal,  enlarged   by  other   free 
hooters  from  the  gang. 

As  the  day  wore  on,  and  as  they  drank  and  smoked, 
Ferati  entered  the  place  alone.  He  had  not  been  idle  ; 
after  his  arrival  in  town  he  sent  his  wife  to  the  fandan 
go,  while  he  in  the  interim  of  a  day  had  visited  many 
haunts  and  acquaintances,  gathered  up  what  gossip  he 
could  concerning  the  pirate-packers,  and  had  formed  a 
very  shrewd  opinion  from  his  own  knowledge  of  their 
leader,  Cruz.  What  remained  for  him  to  find  out,  he 
trusted  to  his  wits  and  the  keener  scent  of  Manuela. 

He  was  at  once  noticed  as  he  entered ;  very  much 
taller  than  the  average  Mexican,  his  fanciful  dress 
seemed  to  harden  the  stone-cold  sneer  on  his  lips,  and 
the  mouth,  shaded  by  an  iron-gray  moustache,  clipped 
close,  gave  to  the  lean  nose  the  outline  of  a  hawk's  bill. 
The  eyes,  set  deeply  in  the  sunken  cheeks,  sparkled 
like  a  serpent's.  On  his  head,  bound  up  in  a  striped 
bandanna,  rested  the  glazed  sombrero  ;  the  calzoneros 
were  velvet,  tight-tilting  and  slashed,  below  a  red, 
armless  jacket,  contrasting  oddly  with  the  calico  shirt 
beneath.  The  waist  was  bound  in  a  rich,  silken  scarf, 
above  which  was  seen  a  stiletto  and  pistol. 

Whenever  the  chance  offered,  the  man  played  monte 
desperately,  as  he  never  permitted  a  challenge  to  pass 
at  his  table.  Always  ready  to  break  a  bank,  or  to  have 
his  own  broken,  in  the  parlance  of  the  craft,  he  was 
never  content  with  a  slow  pursuit  of  his  calling ;  when 
flushed  by  success  he  was  a  profligate  ;  when  penniless 
he  was  morose  and  dangerous. 


THE    CONSPIRACY.  147 

The  landlord  whispered  to  his  confederates  that  the 
new  comer  had  a  fund  to  be  won,  and  Cartwright  took 
the  hint ;  he  saw  that  under  certain  conditions  this  was 
his  opportunity,  and  he  quickly  resolved  to  "tap  the 
bank  "  of  the  dealer  that  night ;  a  term  understood  to 
mean  that  he  would  challenge  the  monte  player  for  the 
amount  upon  his  table,  on  the  turn  of  a  card.  It  was 
further  agreed  that  the  landlord  should  manage  the 
crowning  shame.  Cruz  having  so  worked  upon  his 
fears  of  an  Indian  raid,  and  duped  him  by  the  show  of 
profits,  he  pledged  himself  to  manipulate  a  pack  of 
cards  so  as  to  make  Cartwright's  winning  sure. 

The  lights  were  ablaze  on  the  rough,  white  walls, 
throwing  off  an  ill  savor  to  mix  with  the  smell  of  gar 
lic,  the  fumes  of  tobacco  and  wine,  when  Manuela  came 
in  and  crossed  the  floor  to  the  card-player.  He  whis 
pered  and  she  turned  away  with  a  serious  look,  to  stroll 
about  the  apartment. 

The  street  cries  without  were  growing  louder  as  the 
night  came  on,  and  from  the  plaza  beyond,  the  jargon 
of  the  hucksters  was  heard  in  full  chorus.  A  crowd, 
increased  from  every  house,  filled  the  streets,  and 
young  women  of  almost  every  hue  flocked  to  the  dens 
near  by.  The  music  struck  up  in  the  fonda ;  its  first 
notes  reached  the  ears  of  the  idlers  outside,  when  the 
tide  turned  into  the  room.  It  was  a  motley  crowd  at 
the  height  of  the  revel;  mountain-men,  trappers, 
scouts,  guides,  deserters,  negroes,  hunters,  traders, 
teamsters,  packers,  gamblers  and  land  pirates ;  seno- 
ritas,  in  their  trappings  of  faded  velvets  and  flaunting 


148  SNAP. 

ribbons  ;  the  glazed  leather  and  bell-buttons  of  the  men 
in  accord  with  the  gay  jackets  and  satin  slippers  of  the 
women  ;  nor  was  the  American's  garb  out  of  harmony. 
His  voice  was  not  a  note  lower  than  the  prevailing  dis- 
cord,  from  the  strumming  of  the  mandolin  and  the 
shuffle  of  the  feet  on  the  hard,  clay  floor. 

In  a  corner  sat  a  penny-pitcher;  the  lean  wretch 
begged  like  a  mendicant. 

"In  the  name  of  Saint  Peter,"  he  cried,  "plank 
down,  plank  down  ;  if  I  lose  this  bet  it'll  put  me  in  my 
cold,  cold  grave." 

Now  Ferati  took  up  a  guitar,  and  suddenly  his 
young  wife  bounded  into  the  center  of  the  room. 
Flashing,  fluttering,  circling,  bounding  like  a  fawn, 
skimming  like  an  albatross  settling  to  its  ease  on  the 
crest  of  a  white  wild  wave  ;  springing,  like  the  flight 
of  the  bird,  the  dark  eyes  opening  and  closing  on  her 
burning  cheeks,  she  whirled  in  a  delirium  of  triumph 
over  the  fleetest  foot  of  her  sex.  She  skipped  aside 
and  disappeared,  as  the  mountain-men  threw  coin  at 
her  feet. 

The  dance  ended,  the  gambler  seated  himself  at  a 
table,  spread  out  his  cards,  placing  his  gold  and  silver 
near  him  ;  then  he  composedly  drew  his  weapons  and 
made  them  a  part  of  the  display. 

Cartwright  at  once  challenged  him,  and  as  the  crowd 
grew  close  about  them,  he  said  politely : 

"  Bueno." 

"Wayno,"  repeated  Bill;  "give  us  a  new  pack  of 
kerds." 


THE  CONSPIRACY.  149 

"As  the  senor  chooses,"  replied  the  player;  the 
lowest  Spaniard  tries  to  be  affable. 

The  new  pack  was  brought  by  the  landlord ;  Cruz 
eyed  him  closely.  Cartwright-won  the  toss  and  drew 
the  cards ;  he  drew  them  steadily  card  after  card. 
The  one  he  wagered  on  came  first ;  he  held  it  up  be 
fore  the  dealer,  who,  with  blanched  cheeks,  said : 

"  Bueno,  scfior." 

The  winner  swept  the  pile  from  the  table,  lighted 
his  cigar,  and  left  the  room.  He  was  followed  by  his 
confederates. 

The  clanseuse  stood  in  the  dark  shadow  of  the  house 
listening  to  every  word  that  passed  between  the  thief 
and  his  pal,  Cruz,  and  as  they  rode  away  to 'the  ren 
dezvous  with  the  Indian,  she  hastened  to  her  partner; 
he  listened,  and  in  sullen  humor  gathered  up  his  cards, 
and  replaced  his  weapons. 

Soon  thereafter  a  furious  row  began,  provoked  by 
the  woman,  and  as  the  melee  became  general,  the 
lights  were  put  out  suddenly.  In  the  gloom  gliding 
about,  stepping  like  a  cat,  guided  by  a  faint  shimmer 
from  the  street,  the  maddened  player  ceaselessly  sought 
one  face  which  his  hate  had  drawn  in  lines  of  fire. 
The  riot  spent  itself,  the  house  was  deserted,  and  the 
gambler,  with  his  wife,  disappeared  in  the  crowd. 

In  the  small  hours  of  the  morning  Ferati  returned 
to  his  domicile.  Beck  was  aroused,  and  to  his  hasty 
questions  the  Mexican  answered  promptly,  bidding 
him  speed  back  to  the  post ;  that  Cartwright  had  con 
spired  with  the  Indians  to  attack  his  train  at  a  certain 


150  SNAP. 

point,  and  to  start  out  before  these  plans  could  be 
carried  out. 

Beck  nerved  himself  to  spring  back  into  the  saddle  ; 
he  must  outstrip  the  gang,  reach  the  post,  get  some 
rest  for  his  over-wrought  frame,  and  a  fair  start  with 
his  train  before  the  pirates  could  mature  the  plot. 

He  gave  over  his  faithful  bay  to  the  Mexican,  taking 
in  exchange  a  strong  horse  which  the  grazer  thought 
surpassed  in  mettle  all  others  of  his  kind  in  existence. 
Beck  awaited  the  break  of  day,  then  mounted. 

He  parted  with  his  host,  shaking  hands ;  little  he 
knew  that  the  coin  he  had  placed  therein  had  pensioned 
a  heartless  savage  to  seek  his  life  ;  that  the  same  hand 
had  driven  a  poignard  through  the  heart  of  another, 
and  that  the  sweet  and  peaceful  light  of  the  dawn,  now 
falling  on  horse  and  rider  as  they  sped  away,  fell  alike 
over  the  pallid  corpse  of  the  landlord  on  the  red-clay 
floor  of  the  fonda. 


THE    WA  Y-  WORN  RIDER  —  "R OLL- 0 UT."          151 


CHAPTER  X. 


BECK,  on  his  departure  from  the  post,  had  said  in 
his  off-hand  way,  that  he  was  going  to  watch  the 
pirate,  and  the  trader  was  led  to  believe  that  this 
meant  the  movements  of  the  gang  at  the  crib  or  their 
trail  thence,  when  he  would  return.  He  supplied 
Beck  with  funds  to  meet  any  need  in  seeking  infor 
mation,  but  he  was  fkr  from  knowing  the  dauntless 
errand  on  which  his  guide  had  resolved.  The  scout's 
natural  reticence,  and  as  a  habit  of  his  calling,  kept 
his  mouth  closed  as  to  the  particulars  of  his  mission. 
His  insight  into  the  ways  of  such  an  evil-designing 
rogue  as  Cartwright,  drew  him  instinctively  to  the 
distant  nest  of  the  vipers.  He  trusted  his  own  shrewd 
ness  best,  feared  to  disclose  his  plan,  lest  they  might 
be  over- ruled,  and  relied  upon  his  physical  strength  as 
equal  to  any  trial. 

He  had  been  away  already  over  six  weeks,  and  dur 
ing  this  lapse  of  time,  the  season  had  advanced  into 
the  sun-bright  days  late  in  June.  The  shimmering 
expanse,  lying  far  to  the  west  beyond  the  post,  seemed 
to  vibrate  in  the  heat  of  noon.  There  were  no  cool 
spots  about  the  camp ;  but  at  the  house,  a  milder  ray 


152  SNAP. 

fell  through  the  morning-glories  on  Mary,  as  she  sat 
at  her  knitting. 

o 

"I  can't  make  it  out,  what  keeps  John  so  long,"  her 
father  said  as  he  stepped  on  to  the  porch,  from  the 
rear  door. 

"It  seems  a  long,  long  time,"  Mary  replied,  mus 
ingly;  but  then,  with  a  ready  cheer,  she  added:  "I 
always  trust  Mister  John,  father;  he'll  come." 

The  trader  walked  away,  and  his  steps  led  him 
straightly  to  the  office-door.  lie  entered  and  hastily 
snatched  up  his  glass  as  he  mounted  to  the  outlook. 
His  range  on  the  horizon  swept  slowly  the  vast  circuit, 
all  deeply  blue,  but  not  a  line  on  the  curtained  space 
resembled  the  familiar  form  of  his  scout.  He  drew 
back  and  got  down  from  the  ladder,  much  troubled  in 
spirit,  for  next  to  his  love  for  his  daughter,  his  friend 
ship  for  Beck  was  almost  as  ardent  a  passion. 

Where  was  Beck  ?  The  question  the  trader  asked 
himself  many  times,  repeating  it  to  Mary.  Where 
was  he  ? 

The  scout  had  ridden  away  from  Feratrs  ranche  a 
fortnight  before,  and  had  taken  a  trail  to  bring  him 
out  on  a  wel^-known  highway,  more  frequently  tra 
versed  than  any  other  of  the  many  routes  across  the 
plains.  He  bestrode  the  grazer's  horse,  a  young,  fresh, 
strong  gelding,  of  Mexican  habits,  which  Beck  was 
not  sure  he  could  trust.  Trained  to  the  use  of  the 
lasso,  his  mount  was  tractable,  bridlewise  and  kind; 
he  grazed  at  the  picket-rope  without  fretting,  and 
thrived  011  short  commons  better  than  his  stallion.  In 


THE   WA  Y-  WORN  RIDER  —  "  R OLL-  0  UT."          153 

build,  the  horse  was  high  and  well-knit ;  his  stride 
was  wide  and  easy;  his  natural  gait,  a  lope.  The 
head  betokened  poor  blood ;  there  was  not  a  sign  of 
the  thoroughbred  about  him,  but  every  movement  was 
that  of  thorough  training.  Beck  did  not  know  his^ 
speed,  and  this  stood  first  in  what  he  would  require  of 
his  mount ;  nor  did  he  care  to  test  it  lest  he  might 
regret  the  tax  upon  his  strength. 

The  same  routine  of  lonely  camps,  the  same  daily 
ride  and  rest,  the  gallop  in  the  dawn,  the  halt  in  the 
twilight,  the  sleep  under  the  stars  at  night  in  the  aw 
ful  silence.     The  journey  repeated  was  wearing  the 
man  down  ;  his  form  was  bent,  overstrained,  and  he 
sat  his  saddle  clumsily.     In    this  plight,   as    a   train 
passed  he  bargained  with  the  whips  to  take  him  up, 
and  he  stretched  himself,  at  full  length,  in  one  of  the 
covered  wagons.     The  respite  from  the  horseback  jar 
was  most  delightful,  and  for  days  he  enjoyed  it.     His 
beast  was  led ;    for  both,  it  was  rest ;  the  horse  was 
lightened  of  his  load,  and  man's  heart  lightened  by  the 
voices  of  his  fellows.     But  the  drag  soon  grew  to  be 
irksome  to  one  whose  bent  was  to  cover  distance  with 
all  dispatch,  whose  purpose  was  to  reach  a  goal  within 
a  given  time.     So,  in  the  first  flush  of  another  day, 
Beck  put  spurs  to  his  horse  and  was  soon  careering 
beyond  the  sight  of  the  teamsters.     He  sped  on  in  a 
gallop,  and  now,  to  test  the  courage  and  dash  of  the 
Mexican,  he  spurred  deep,  raising  his  voice  to  a  shout, 
and  slackened  the  rein.     The  horse  leaped,  nearly  un 
seating  the  rider,  threw  back  his  ears,  and  spun  like  a 


154  SNAP. 

top  along  the  road.  Beck  was  delighted  ;  he  had  stir 
red  the  latent  vigor  of  a  prairie-born  iryer.  The  scout 
felt  now  that  no  fatigue  could  break  down  the  startlin^ 

D  O 

nerve  of  one  of  those  strange,  half-wild,  iron-bound 
breed  of  horses.  The  bounding  dash  waked  the  man 
also,  when  suddenly  a  foe  sprang  from  the  earth  be 
fore  him.  He  had  neared  a  thicket-grown  rise  in  the 
land,  and  was  about  to  draw  up,  when  a  band  of  In 
dian  horsemen,  their  bow-strung  arrows  drawn,  chal 
lenged  his  advance. 

On  sight,  Beck  dropped  his  rein,  seized  his  pistols, 
raised  both  hands,  and  with  a  yell,  tired. 

The  freed  horse  turned  sharp  at  an  angle,  with  every 
fibre  strung,  every  nerve  and  sinew  strained,  and  with 
wondrous  power  cleared  the  opposing  line,  and  swept 
by  it.  On  came  the  savages,  goading  their  ponies ; 
on  sped  Beck  and  his  Mexican  ;  he  turned  in  his  sad 
dle  and  bent  his  rifle  on  the  foremost  Indian.  The 
ball  fell  short,  and  the  arrows  aimed  at  him  were  out 
of  reach  and  harmless.  He  seized  the  bridle  : 

"Now,  Bones,  go  it,"  and,  guiding  his  horse,  struck 
out  for  a  canyon.  Hidden  away  in  a  cavern  of  one  of 
these  deep-cut  gorges,  which  he  had  reached  out  of 
sight  of  the  foe,  there  he  hid  himself  and  his  horse 
until  the  dark  would  shield  him. 

The  wait  and  watch  at  the  camp  for  the  absent  scout 
had  lengthened  to  a  weary,  feeble  hope.  The  trader's 
suspense  had  grown  to  be  a  consuming  fear  that  his 
friend  was  a  victim  of  Cartwright's  malice.  Every 


THE    WA  Y-  WORN  RIDER  —  "R OLL- 0 UT.n          155 

hour  added  to  the  old  man's  doubts,  and  early  and  late 
he  was  seen  with  his  glass  leveled  in  the  outlook. 

Mary  was  a  silent  watcher.  Often  with  shaded  eyes 
she  stood  in  the  path  to  gaze  steadily  and  long,  out  on 
the  burnished  prairie.  She  would  turn  away,  her  face 
sadder  than  before,  but  not  to  betray  her  thoughts  she 
cheered  her  father  when  they  met. 

The  Doctor  never  doubted  the  coming  of  Beck  in 
his  own  good  time,  but  many  of  the  men  had  given 
him  up  as  lost. 

It  was  a  calm  summer  night,  in  the  later  hours,  as  the 
guard  paced  his  rounds,  when  suddenly  the  tall,  gaunt 
form  of  a  wayfarer,  leading  a  lank,  raw-boned  horse, 
appeared  before  him. 

"  Who  comes  thar?  "  cried  the  sentry. 

w  It's  me,  John  Beck  ;  what's  left  of  me  ;  "  and  the 
man,  reeling  in  his  steps,  gave  his  mount  in  charge  of 
the  guard,  and  found  his  way  into  the  house. 

Soon,  within  the  dwelling,  the  lamps  were  lighted 
and  the  sideboard  door  was  opened.  There  were 
cheerful  voices  heard  and  the  smacking  of  lips  ;  the 
Doctor's  loud  salutation,  the  trader's  greeting,  Lu's 
laugh,  Whack's  banter,  and  Mary's  gleeful  tones  were 
heard.  But  all  stood  amazed  at  the  man's  changed 
features  and  attire.  His  beard  and  hair  were  long  and 
matted,  the  face  bronzed  to  a  coppery  hue,  his  form 
lean  and  worn ;  the  shoes  and  leggins  were  whipped 
to  tatters  by  the  speary  grass  ;  his  clothes  were  ragged. 
He  looked  up  from  the  meal  before  him,  and  with  a 
reassuring  smile,  he  said  : 


15G 

"Never  mind,  Peter;  I  made  my  pint." 

"I'll  bet  you  did,  John,  certin  ; "  he  answered. 

Very  little  else  than  these  few  words  escaped  the 
lips  of  Beck,  but  Cheviteau  felt  that  in  time  he  would 
know  the  whole  story. 

The  tired  giant's  return  to  strength  was  easy ;  he 
hid  away  in  shaded  nooks  and  slept ;  he  ate  heartily 
with  his  old-fashioned  gusto.  The  morning  saw  him 
bathing  in  the  stream  ;  at  noon,  outstretched  from  the 
heat ;  and  night,  with  its  gracious  help,  built  up  the 
strong  man  to  himself. 

One  day,  lying  under  a  grove-tree  not  far  from  the 
rear  porch,  Mary  sought  him  out.  With  his  blouse 
for  a  pillow,  he  slept  healthily,  and  she  stood  near  him 
watching  his  restful  repose.  Womanlike,  she  broke  a 
few  broad  leaves  from  the  weeds  near  by,  and  fanned 
the  face  of  the  sleeper. 

Suddenly  his  eyes  opened  wide  and  staring. 

"Well  —  Mary,"  he  said,  springing  up. 

"  I  thought  the  flies  would  vex  you,  Mister  John," 
she  replied  ;  then  laughing  in  her  old,  round,  joyous 
way,  "  and  I  found  your  scalp  was  whole." 

"Is  it?"  he  spoke  in  a  confused  way,  as  if  in  doubt. 
"Well,  now  I've  had  my  stretch,  and  feel  all  right; 
whar's  your  father?" 

"  In  the  office,  I  reckon." 

He  took  her  hand  in  his,  and  they  walked  back  to 
the  porch  ;  there  Whack  met  them,  and  Beck  said  : 

"  Come  boy,   I  want  you ;  thars  bisnis  on  hand." 


1HE    WAY-WORN  RIDER  — " ROLL-OUT."          157 

Together  the  two  went  on  to  the  office,  where  they 
found  the  trader. 

*'*  Any  orders  from  Washington,  Peter  ?  "  asked  Beck, 
as  the  three  ^yere  seated- at  the  office  table. 

"Yes,  they're  pushing  me  hard,  John;  an  hyar, 
they've  sont  me  an  order  for  an  escort ;  but  it's  no 
yuse,  the  troop's  too  far  off." 

"Are  the  wagons  ready,  Whack?" 

"Yes,  scout;  all  in  good  rumiin  order;  the  stock's 
fed  up  for  a  long  pull." 

"  Can  we  camp  on  the  prairie  to-morrow  night, 
Peter?" 

"  Certin ;  I  ken  load  up  by  noon." 

"Mus  have  an  extra  man  for  each  team;"  he  laid 
down  his  demands  bluntly. 

"  What  fer  ?  "  the  trader  asked,  in  surprise. 

"  Jes  this :  Bill  Cartwright's  on  the  road,  at  the  head 
of  a  band  of  pirates." 

"That's  bad." 

"  Bad  enough ;  but  wus  still,  the  Spiders  ar  with 
him." 

"  Ken  you  pull  through  ?  " 

"  Give  me  that  order  ;  put  me  on  the  trail  to-morrow  ; 
I'll  fight  through,  if  I  send  back  my  bones."  Beck's 
hand  fell  heavily  ;  he  spoke  not  in  boast,  for  he  had 
measured  the  danger,  but  his  words  were  direct  and 
well  understood. 

"An  you,"  said  the  trader,  turning  to  the  young, 
fan-mettled  boy  by  his  side,  "will  you  go?  JSTo  man 
is  edlcated  till  he's  fought  his  way  cross  the  plains." 


158  SNAP. 

"  Go  !  "  he  answered  promptly,  "  anywhai  with  John 
Beck  in  the  lead,  don't  you  know  me?  " 

"That  suits,"  answered  the  old  man,  rising ;  "go 
now,  rouse  up  the  camp." 

At  the  corral  Beck  called  the  teamsters  around  him 
and  chose  from  the  best  his  guards  and  whips. 

"Be  spry,  Legs,"  he  said,  "bring  in  the  cattle  ;  I'll 
sort  a  lead  team."  As  the  boy  ran  off,  he  turned  to 
Whack,  saying  : 

"  Show  the  men  you're  training  when  the  team's 
ready." 

"  Sort  em  right ;  I'll  fetch  em  round." 

It  was  a  simple  plan  agreed  upon  to  put  the  drivers 
at  ease,  for  such  are  always  jealous  of  the  knowledge 
of  others  placed  over  them. 

The  six  }Tokes  stood  well  to  the  wagon,  and  as  Beck 
stepped  aside,  he  found  a  crowd  looking  on. 

"  Thar's  a  team  put  up  as  it  oughter  be,"  he  said, 
"look at  the  leaders  ;  jeslike  prancin  ponies,  an  they're 
graded,  heft  an  size,  down  to  the  vetran  at  the  wheel. 
Thar's  a  blaze-face  an  liver-spots  for  you,  boys;  he's 
built  like  a  steamboat,  hoofs  out  like  a  regler,  the  eye 
like  a  Kaintuc  gal's.  That  team  will  get  down  to  work 
without  coaxin  ;  heah,  Whack,  see  how  they  tend  to 
bisnis." 

Whack  took  up  his  whip,  and  standing  a  few  feet 
from  the  wheel-ox,  he  whirled  the  lash  to  guide  the 
turn,  in  a  brisk  trot.  Touching  the  nose  of  the  vete 
ran,  he  steadied  the  movement  and  brought  the  team 
round  to  the  starting  place  cleverly. 


1  HE    IVA  Y-  WORN  RIDER  —  '•  ROLL- O UT."          159 

"How'll  that  do?"  he  asked  of  the  crowd,  as  the 
yokes  stood  still ;  "  you  can  measure,  and  see  if  the 
wagon  won't  stand  in  the  circle."  The  men  cheered 
him. 

"Mary,"  said  her  father,  at  the  rear  porch,  where 
the  old  lady  amused  the  girls ;  "  breakfast  at  five, 
shure." 

Mrs.  Garrulson  made  all  the  reply  needed : 

"May  I  never!  —  an  I  hyar  vvese  gwyne  at  last, 

happy  land  !  You  shall  have  yer  breakfast,  kernel, 

if  I  have  to  cook  it  misself.  See  heah  though  ;  plenty 
room  for  that  fedder  bed,  don't  disremember  that." 

"All  right,  mam ;"  he  passed  on  to  the  office. 

Lu  and  Mary  were  in  the  dining-room. 

"  May  I  come  in  ?  "  asked  Beck  at  the  window. 

"Yes,  but  through  the  door,  of  course." 

"He  won't  leap  in,  Lu,  he's  not  a  jumper,"  said 
Mary,  teasing  her  friend. 

"  I  mus  see  to  my  traps,"  said  Beck,  and  after  a  look 
at  his  rifle,  he  placed  it  in  the  corner. 

"What's  the  flurry,  Mister  Beck?" 

"Oh,  nothing,  Mary;  we  ought  to  be  on  the  road, 
long  ago  ;  "  as  he  left  the  room,  she  followed  him. 

"  Now,  tell  me,"  she  questioned  again  as  they  stood 
in  the  hall,  "what  about  the  trip?" 

"  We're  ordered  out,  and  I  am  making  ready,  that's 
all." 

"Yes,  I  know,"  she  said  slowly,  "  making  ready  with 
the  rifle." 

"We  can't  trade  without  it ;  how  can  we?" 


160  SNAP. 

"But  what  is  it?" 

"  Don't  be  troubled,  Mary,  you're  safe  enough." 

Handing  him  a  book, — a  pocket  companion, — which 
she  had  often  pressed  upon  him,  she  turned  back  with 
a  serious,  unhappy  look,  and  left  him  standing  there, 
as  one  in  doubt  and  troubled. 

At  daylight  the  teams  drew  up  before  the  wide, 
open  doors  of  the  storehouses,  and  stood  ready  to  be 
freighted. 

Breakfast  was  over ;  Lu  and  the  scout  met  on  the 
porch,  and  she  said  in  her  playful,  smiling  love  of 
fun  : 

"  Leave  a  lock  of  hair,  won't  you  ?  " 

"How  can  I?  thar's  none  left." 

"It  looks  like  it  was  sand-papered." 

"That's  a  way  I  have  to  fool  an  Injin ;  they  can't 
get  a  han-holt  to  scalp  by."  Beck,  in  trim,  had  his 
hair  clipped  again. 

"Oh,  the  brutes;  but  you'll  leave  Kitty  for  me; 
won't  you,  Mister  Beck?" 

"If  Peter  says  so." 

"  Let's  go  and  see  him  ;  I'll  coax  the  best  I  can." 

They  entered  upon  a  busy  scene ;  the  cargoes  had 
been  chosen  from  slips  made  up,  and  Whack  and 
Jumper  called  off  to  the  hands,  as  the  wagons  were 
packed.  Lu  managed  well,  for  Beck  needed  a  strong, 
heavy  horse. 

By  noon  the  train  was  drawn  out  in  line,  loaded. 
Beck  made  ready  for  the  start ;  he  looked  to  the  rnedi- 


THE    IV A  Y-  WORK  RIDER  —  "  R OLL- OUT."          161 

cine  chests,  the  cooking  kits,  and  stationed  his  men, 
a  driver  and  extra  man  to  each  team. 

"  Now,  Whack,"  he  said,  ''  I've  fixed  your  traps,  your 
hollerware  and  cutlery,  whar's  your  pocket  knife?" 

"All  right,  scout." 

"You  can  travel  without  boots,  but  not  without 
that ;  the  roan's  yours,  I'll  ride  the  sorrel." 

"Move  on,"  called  the  trader. 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Give  the  word,  lad." 

Whack  left  the  house,  and  in  a  loud  voice  gave  the 
order : 

"Rollout!" 

Up  rose  a  hundred  whips,  and  there  was  a  sound  like 
an  enfilade  of  muskets ;  sharp  and  clear  was  the  snap 
with  a  ring  that  echoed  on  the  dull,  dead  silence  of 
the  waste,  making  the  heart  glad  with  its  promise,  and 
the  faces  of  the  sturdy  fellows  to  brighten. 

Beck  sprang  to  his  saddle  and  dashed  off  to  the  lead  ; 
the  mile-length  caravan  was  in  motion. 

Mrs.  Garrulson,  against  the  protest  of  Beck  and  the 
trader,  parted  from  her  friends,  solemnly  in  silence, 
to  make  her  journey  to  her  "  ole  man"  at  a  distant 
fort.  As  she  bade  adieu  to  Lu  and  Mary,  she  gave 
them  a  fold  of  writing,  to  be  read  when  she  was  out 
of  sight.  Her  bonnet  was  seen  waving  far  off  in  the 
line,  and  her  dismal  lament  came  back  to  the  ears 
of  those  who  watched  her. 

"  Goocl-by,  vain  warld  !  " 

As  the  lead  team  moved  out  upon  the  road,  a  half- 


162  SNAP. 

nude  Indian  runner  stole  from  behind  a  tree,  and  like 
a  deer  bounded  off  on  a  trail ;  the  sunset  lighted  the 
path  of  a  spy.  As  the  darkness  set  in,  the  glimmer 
ing  camp-fires  were  seen,  on  the  blue  horizon. 

At  night,  after  the  departure  of  the  train,  Lu  thought 
of  the  old  woman's  written  scrap,  and  calling  Mary  The 
two  spent  an  hour  at  the  sitting-room  lamp  over  the 
scrawl ;  at  length,  by  dint  of  a  vexed  study,  they  read 
the  ballad  of: 

MI    JOX. 

jon  garrulson  es  a  soger  man, 
a  soger  man,  es  he,  es  he ; 
he  fyts  fer  his  knllers  with  his  gun, 
jon  garrulson,  mi  jon,  dus  he. 

he  fyts  the  injuns  onto  the  planes, 
he  fyts  the  injuns,  jon  dus  he, 
he  gits  a  myt  fer  all  his  panes, 
but  he  fhyts  em  fer  his  konteree. 

mi  soger  man  is  out  in  a  foart, 
wah  evri  soger ort  fer  to  be; 
i  tak  my  bed  up  fer  a  wark 
sterang  konterees  fer  tu  see,  see,  see. 

A  woyce  kauls  me  in  pledin  toans, 
go  tin  yer  jewtee  an  be  tru, 
mi  bed  shal  res  his  akin  boans, 
no  nife  ken  kut  our  luv  into. 

an  wen  he  dys  and  ]yf  is  did, 
ile  rap  him  in  ther  stars  an  strype, 
ile  rite  onto  his  koft'en  lid, 
Melindee  wus  his  durlin  vvyf. 

tak  warnin  all  bi  me  an  jon, 

yung  gals  an  boys  jes  look  at  me, 

an  vvip  ycr  i  as  yu  jog  on 

Sterang  kunterees  fer  to  see,  see,  see. 


THE    WA  Y-  WORN  RIDER  —  "  R  OLL-  O  UT."          \  63 

Here  the  screed  might  have  ended,  but  through  a 
score  of  verses  it  reached  a  climax  in  an  adventure  of 
John  with  an  Indian  : 

jon  grabbed  his  bar  atwyx  bis  ban, 
to  grab  his  bar  wur  all  he  did, 
that  injun  squaked  at  my  gucle  man, 
fer  he  snachecl  that  injun  bawlhedded. 

"And  who  in  the  world  is  her  John?"  screamed 
Lu. 

"Her  husband,  of  course;  he's  a  soldier,  and  the 
good  old  soul  loves  him,  Lu,"  Mary  said,  trying  to 
be  a  little  grave  as  a  curb  to  her  friend's  mirth. 

"Well,  you  may  be  good  riders,  good  fighters,  and 
all  that ;  but,  if  that's  the  way  we  write  poetry  out 
here "  —  she  threw  down  the  paper  as  she  ran  off, 
singing : 

"  An  he  snached  that  injun  bawlhedded." 


164  SNAP. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

THE    PIRATES THE    ROADSIDE    CAMP YARNS. 

Cartwright,  in  company  with  Cruz,  after  leaving  the 
fonda,  sought  out  the  Indian  in  the  shadow  of  the  adobe  ; 
they  found  him  in  waiting.  He  was  easily  brought  to 
terms  by  a  sight  of  the  gold  the  thief  had  won  ;  so  the 
plot  was  formed  to  rob  the  train,  to  massacre  the 
teamsters,  and  that  the  chief  should  return  to  his  tribe 
to  band  together  the  most  villainous  for  the  deadly 
mission.  The  bonus  was  paid,  a  promise  given  of  a 
good  share  of  booty  to  each  savage,  and  an  ambuscade 
was  agreed  upon. 

As  Ferati  sneaked  away  with  bloody  hands  from  the 
melee,  Cartwright  closed  his  atrocious  bargain  with 
the  chief.  The  pirates  were  about  to  return  to  the 
scene  they  had  but  the  hour  before  quitted,  when  one 
of  the  gang,  in  haste  and  in  fright  from  the  tumult  of 
the  spree,  by  chance  came  upon  them.  The  natural  bent 
of  his  scare  added  much  more  to  the  account  of  it  than 
really  took  place,  and  the  knaves  who  listened  changed 
their  course,  an  incident  that  hastened  their  villainy 
many  hours. 

"B'wen,"  said  Cruz,  with  a  shrug  and  a  motion  to 
move  on. 


THE  PIRATES— THE  ROADSIDE    CAMP— YARNS.     165 

"  Wayno,"  answered  Bill,  as  they  turned  to  take  up 
the  packers. 

It- was  past  midnight  when  the  jingling  spurs  were 
heard  again  on  the  road,  ringing  right  merrily  on  the 
silvery  silence  and  keeping  time  with  the  song  the  ras 
cals  sang  in  chorus.  Further  on  Cruz  took  up  his 
train,  to  follow  close  upon  their  heels,  so  that  when  the 
animals  he  and  Cartwright  rode  were  fagged,  they  could 
change  to  muleback ;  a  slow  dog-trot,  but  an  untiring 
gait. 

When  Beck  rode  forth  from  Ferati's  cabin,  the 
thieves  had  set  out  with  a  good  start  ahead,  on  a 
route  far  away  from  Beck's,  but  nearly  parallel,  towards 
the  post.  The  form  of  the  scout  was  still  in  sight 
when  Ferati  and  his  gang  sprang  to  horse  ;  like  blood 
hounds  they  followed  Cartwright. 

The  pirates  plodded  on.  In  the  shade,  when  they 
halted,  they  ate  and  drank,  gambled,  quarreled,  drank 
again,  and  mounted.  Bringing  to  the  long  jaunt  the 
steady  force  and  strength  of  the  mule,  they  gained 
distance. 

Not  to  follow  them  on  the  dreary  journey,  they  rode 
on  without  break  or  accident,  covering  space  with  in 
credible  speed.  Beck  had  distanced  them  some  days, 
as  their  halts  were  long  and  their  cups  were  deep  ;  but 
theirs  was  a  shorter  route,  and  the  scout  had  counted 
too  trustingly  on  the  time  he  had  himself  saved. 

The  Mexicans  and  the  semi-savage  white,  stimulated 
by  strong  drinks,  never  tired.  Far  out  on  the  prairie 
they  fell  in  with  a  hunting  party  of  the  tribe  whose 


166  SNAP. 

lands  verged  on  the  trader's,  and  hired  one  as  a  spy. 
He  was  sent  on  to  lie  in  wait  near  Cheviteau's,  to 
watch  every  movement  at  the  post,  and  when  the  train 
started  to  return  with  all  speed  to  where  they  would 
bivouac  on  the  plain.  This  ended  their  journey. 

It  was  while  Beck  was  taking  the  few  days  of  rest 
to  recruit  himself,  believing  he  was  so  far  ahead  of  the 
pirates  that  he  could  afford  the  necessity  of  the  respite, 
and  unconscious  that  Cartwright's  shorter  route  and 
the  ease  with  which  he  and  his  gang  changed  from  a 
tired  mount  to  a  fresh  one  from  the  train,  gave  them 
great  advantage  in  the  race,  that  the  Indian  runner 
started  for  the  post. 

Like  a  panting  fox-chaser,  he  was  hiding  near  Chevi- 
-teau's,  when  he  heard  the  whip-snap  of  the  caravan  in 
motion.  The  camp-fires  died  out,  when  with  winged 
feet,  far  beyond  the  train-guard,  he  fled  back  to  the 
waiting  pirates. 

The  two  trappers  who  eyed  the  "  bar  dance "  of 
Cartwright  at  the  fonda,  stood  near  when  he  swept  the 
coin  from  Ferati's  table. 

"Bill,"  said  the  elder,  "that  war  a  clean  steal." 

"  I  seed  it,  Jack,  an  thar'll  be  a  fuss  ;  watch  the 
Mexan,  he's  white  about  the  gills  an  his  eyes  ar  afire." 

"Come,  go  long;"  Jack  moved  to  leave  the  place 
and  the  other  joined  him.  "That  ar  skunk  es  jus  in 
from  the  road ;  he's  train-boss  fer  a  rich  trader  an  he's 
worfin  a  big  game ;  them  mule  drivers  is  thick  bout 
him  as  flies ;  well  see  whar  he  goes  with  that  ar 
plunder." 


THE  PIRATES— THE  ROADSIDE    CAMP— YARNS.     167 

"I'm  along,  ole  boss  ;  you  reckon  high  on  me." 

They  left  the  pulquerias,  and  keeping  to  the  dark 
side  of  by-ways  and  lanes,  they  followed  close  upon 
Cartwright  and  Cruz.  When  the  cut-throats  met,  be 
hind  a  ruin  near  by,  they  heard  every  word  of  the 
plot. 

As  the  thieves  stole  off,  Bill  drew  his  pistol  and 
was  about  to  fire.  Jack  seized  his  arm,  saying  : 

"  Hold  on,  old  boy  ;  none  of  that ;  you'll  spile  some 
sport." 

"Tse  itching  to  pull  on  him,  Jack,  plum  center." 

"  He'll  fotch  up,  mind  ;  come  hyar  an  sot  down  ;  I'se 
got  a  heap  to  tell  about  that  cuss."  Drawing  forth  his 
bladder  wallet,  the  other  knew  what  was  coming. 

The  story  told  by  the  old  trapper  was  a  long  one  ; 
amplified  by  many  side-scenes,  and  spun  out  in  his 
own  peculiar  drawl.  It  gave  a  part  of  his  own  his 
tory,  the  early  life  of  Cartwright,  referred  to  the  crib, 
and  a  passing  glance  at  what  was  known  as  the  Regu 
lators, —  an  earlier  and  ruder  organization  than  that 
which  in  later  years  was  known  as  the  Vigilantes. 

A  pretty  girl,  of  hasty  temper,  was  wooed  by  two 
suitors  in  one  of  the  early  settlements  of  the  border. 
The  one  was  a  quiet,  peaceful  youth,  named  McQuain  ; 
the  other,  a  coarse,  wild,  reckless  fellow,  named  Rob 
erts,  whose  manners  and  morals  were  corrupt. 

The  maid  Margaret,  vain  of  these  attentions,  was 
well  pleased  enough  to  have  become  the  wife  of  either. 

The  death  of  Roberts'  father  called  him  away,  and 
during  his  absence  McQuain  urged  his  suit ;  the  girl's 


168  SNAP. 

friends  favored  it,  and  in  a  month  she  consented  to 
marry  him. 

An  old  man  in  the  neighborhood  held  a  commission 
as  justice  of  the  peace,  although  he  had  not  acted  as 
such,  and  McQuain  was  told,  and  told  truly,  that  any 
official  act  of  the  officer  was  binding;  that  he  had  a 
right  to  exercise  his  functions  until  a  successor  was 
appointed.  He  was  called  in,  and  the  girl  became 
McQiwin's  wife. 

The  next  day,  Roberts  returned  to  the  settlement ; 
he  spoke  to  no  one  about  the  marriage,  but  quietly 
sought  out  the  bride.  What  he  said  to  her  no  one 
knew  ;  it  was  told  that  she  asked  her  husband  "whether 
he  was  quite  sure  that  their  union  was  lejjal." 

Roberts  brought  with  him  from  the  east,  news  of 
the  declaration  of  war  with  Great  Britain ;  also,  the 
call  of  the  Governor  of  the  State  for  the  quota  of 
troops.  A  day  or  two  after  his  return,  when  men 
everywhere  were  joining  the  army,  he  met  McQimin 
in  public  and  taunted  him  before  a  crowd.  "You're 
tied  to  an  apron  string,"  he  said,  "and  dare  not  en 
list."  Maddened  by  the  sting  of  this  slur,  J^c-Quaiii 
seized  a  pen  and  enrolled  his  name.  Going  home  to 
tell  his  wife  of  his  sudden  resolve,  she  was  silent  and 
sullen  when  she  heard  it.  To  be  deserted,  when  mar 
ried  but  a  week,  was  little  less  than  cruel,  she  thought 
and  said  ;  she  had  little  faith  in  the  patriotism  of  which 
he  boasted. 

Both  men  had  enlisted,  and  before  leaving  the  place, 
Roberts   came   to  bid   good-by  to   his   former  sweet- 


THE  PIRATES— THE  ROADSIDE    CAMP— YARNS.     169 

heart.  It  was  known  that  they  had  a  long,  earnest, 
parting  talk. 

After  an  absence  of  several  months,  McQuain  came 
back,  hastening  with  a  rapt  heart  to  his  home.  He 
found  the  door  closed.  There  was  not  a  sign  of  a 
living  thing  about  it.  No  smoke  was  seen,  as  of  old, 
curling  out  of  the  chimney  ;  there  was  no  one  there. 
Margaret's  father  met  him  with  a  shake  of  his  head ; 
she  had  been  gone  more  than  a  month,  and  none  knew 
whither  nor  with  whom.  It  was  whispered  that  Rob 
erts  had  been  seen,  not  far  away;  but  it  was  a  rumor 
only.  The  father  invited  McQuain  to  live  with  him, 
but  the  man  turned  away  moodily  on  the  path  to  his 
deserted  cabin,  where  he  was  seen  to  enter.  Coming 
out  soon  after,  he  threw  his  rifle  over  his  shoulder, 
and  without  a  word,  walked  away  through  the  forest. 
In  half  an  hour  the  dwelling  was  in  flames  ;  in  an  hour 
it  was  a  ruin,  and  McQuain  had  left  the  settlement. 

Years  passed ;  the  war  was  over,  and  the  country, 
not  far  below  wrhat  was  now  known  as  Cheviteau's, 
began  to  fill  up.  A  small  frontier  hamlet  was  built 
there,  but  the  treachery  of  the  river  suddenly  ended 
its  life  and  its  annals.  Cartwright  had  halted  on  the 
spot,  in  his  flight  with  Mary.  Among  the  first  to  set- 
tie  there  was  Roberts,  his  w^ife  and  three  children  ; 
the  wife  was  Margaret.  Her  marriage  with  McQuain 
was  legal,  but  Roberts  had  persuaded  her  that  it  was 
not,  and  her  wounded  pride  at  the  desertion,  as  she 
thought,  of  her  husband,  led  her  astray,  which  she 
bitterly  repented. 


170  SNAP. 

Roberts  had  changed  as  much  as  his  victim  ;  a  score 
seemed  to  have  been  added  to  his  age  ;  the  cheeks 
were  sunken,  his  figure  spare  and  bent,  his  glance  un 
steady  and  furtive.  The  evil  traits  of  his  diameter 
were  seen  in  every  action.  During  the  years  that  had 
passed  he  changed  his  abode  many  times,  frightened 
away  by  a  fear  that  the  avenger  Avas  on  his  track. 
For  days  his  wife  would  lose  sight  of  him  ;  his  com 
panions  were  dissolute  outlaws,  and  among  them,  none 
worse  than  Bill  Cartwright.  They  gave  way  to  drunk 
en  excesses,  and  their  intimacy  was  close.  Money  was 
plenty  with  them,  which  they  spent  in  riotous  living, 
and  the  settlers  had  for  a  long  time  watched  them,  and 
traced  to  their  crib  counterfeits,  in  notes  and  coin, 
which  had  been  freely  passed. 

The  first  step  to  crush  this  nest  of  blacklegs  was  to 
call  a  meeting.  The  people  came  together,  they  said, 
for  "  law  and  order,"  and  one  was  named  to  state  "  the 
object  of  the  meeting."  "  The  chair  "  said  : 

"My  friends,  it  is  time  these  rascals  were  punished  ; 
it  is  our  duty  to  punish  them."  Then  and  there  was 
formed  a  band  of  Regulators,  charged  with  the  duty  of 
w  seeing  the  law  administered." 

o 

The  day  appointed  to  rid  the  place  of  the  "pirates" 
arrived,  and  all  were  present  save  one  ;  he  the  leader. 
In  this  fix  they  were  about  to  disperse  to  call  another 
meeting,  when  their  circle  was  entered  by  a  stranger. 
He  was  known  to  a  few  as  a  hunter,  who  led  a  solitary 
life ;  dressed  in  the  garb  of  his  craft,  at  his  belt  swung 


THE  PIRATES—  THE  ROADSIDE    CAMP—  YARNS.     \1\ 

a  long  knife.  He  dropped  the  breech  of  his  heavy 
rifle  on  the  ground,  to  lean  on  the  muzzle. 

f*  If  you  want  a  captain,"  he  said,  through  his  thin, 
cold  lips,  looking  wildly  about  him,  "I'm  your  man  ; 
my  name's  McQuain/1  He  turned  away,  but  they 
called  him  back  and  took  him  at  his  word. 

At  night  they  set  out  for  the  den  of  the  outlaws.  It 
was  a  log  cabin  far  out  in  the  wilds,  from  which  a  road 
ran  to  the  landing, —  the  road  traveled  by  Cartwright 
to  the  crib,  and  the  crib  the  self-same  haunt  from 
which  Mary  had  been  rescued.  Roberts  lived  there 
with  his  family ;  his  wife  the  witness  of  all  the  crimes 
of  the  gang. 

McQuain  and  his  party  had  now  approached  within 
fifty  paces,  and  behind  him,  as  he  took  the  lead,  slowly 
crept  the  Regulators.  A  broad  light  streamed  through 
the  cracks  across  the  little  clearing.  He  halted  not  an 
instant,  but  driving  in  the  door  with  the  butt  of  his 
gun,  he  stood  before  the  startled  crew. 

Roberts  sprang  to  his  feet,  but  the  deadly  aim  ot 
McQuain  covered  him. 

"Your  time  has  come,"  he  said,  and  fired.  His 
rival  fell  a  corpse  at  the  feet  of  the  deluded  woman. 
Seizing  her,  a  scream  rang  out  even  to  the  further 
plain,  as  he  threw  oif  his  cap  and  turned  his  gaze 
straight  into  her  eyes. 

"You're  punished  enough,  go,"  he  said;  replacing 
his  knife,  he  left  in  the  darkness  to  follow  the  trail  as 
a  trapper.* 

*  Condensed  and  adapted  from  a  story  called  "  The  First  Grave." 


172  SNAP. 

The  fight  was  fought  out  furiously  ;  a  savage  strife, 
and  only  one  of  the  desperate  gang  escaped.  Bill 
Cartwright  fled  with  a  deep  knife-wound  slitting  his 
cheek,  which  still  marked  his  savage  face  from  ear  to 
chin. 

The  old  man's  story  had  run  on  far  into  the  night ; 
long  years  had  passed,  leaving  hftn  roughened  in 
speech  and  look. 

"I  fetched  him,"  he  said,  "an  that  ar  cuss  ain't 
forgot  it ;  I  am  the  last  of  the  Regulators." 

At  dawn  he  was  off  on  the  road  to  the  fort ;  thence 
to  the  mountains. 

The  slow  drag  of  the  long,  winding  train  began  with 
the  dawn  each  day,  and  ended  with  the  dusk.  League 
after  league  was  measured  off  step  by  step,  to  the 
creak  of  the  wheels  and  the  crack  of  the  whip.  Across 
the  endless  reach  of  distance,  over  the  brown,  .lonely 
plain,  in  the  still  white  glare  of  fiery  light,  the  sun 
burned  men,  the  panting  beasts,  plodded  on. 

"Whack,  come  up  at  a  steady  pull;  I've  seen  hoof- 
marks  of  bufflers,  and  I'll  give  the  boys  a  treat  for 
supper." 

Beck  read  the  road-signs  as  one  would  a  book  ;  he 
never  tired,  and  turning  his  horse's  head,  he  rode  away 
in  the  pace  of  a  rider  who  had  just  begun  a  journey. 
The  need  of  the  moment  he  did  straightly,  without 
show,  without  knowing  his  own  value,  nor  caring  for 
thanks  or  praise. 

An  extra  man  marched  abreast  of  each  wagon,  with 
his  gun  shouldered,  the  drivers  lagging  near  their  oxen, 


THE   PIRATES— THE  ROADSIDE    CAMP— YARNS.     173 

their  whips  trailing,  and  the  red  dust  stirred  like 
waves  at  the  prow  of  a  boat.  So  the  dreary,  time 
serving  moil  wore  on. 

Later  in  the  day,  Whack  saw  the  scout  far  away,  on 
a  strip  of  green  bottom  near  a  creek.  The  bloom  on 
its  banks  sent  back  its  perfume  to  the  hungry  and  tired 
toilers,  and  the  cattle  pricked  their  ears  as  they  pulled 
to  the  summit  of  the  rise. 

Beck  had  chosen  the  spot  as  a  camp-ground  for  thfc 
night,  and  it  was  soon  known  that  he  had  killed  two 
cows.  He  gave  orders,  in  his  place  again,  wheeling 
the  line  to  park  the  wagons  in  a  semi-circle,  each  end 
of  the  train  to  rest  upon  the  bluff  sheer  to  the  water 
below.  This  done,  his  camp  was  fortified,  rear  and 
front,  against  attack.  There  was  fuel  at  hand  in  heaps, 
thrown  up  by  freshets  and  ready  for  the  match. 

The  good,  old  dame  was  happily  far  more  useful 
than  officious  ;  the  wear  and  worry  of  the  road  had 
tamed  her  speech,  and  while  she  felt  a  kind  regard  for 
the  men's  hunger,  she  would  now  and  then  sneer  aloud 
in  contempt  of  their  cooking. 

The  meat  when  brought  in,  was  found  to  be  young, 
fat  and  juicy.  Beck  was  not  slow  to  single  out  the 
tongues,  the  fleece,  the  hump-ribs,  as  the  best  part*. 
1L-  lighted  a  brisk  lire  in  a  hole  dug  in  the  earth,  and 
when  it  had  burned  down,  he  hung  the  tongues  therein, 
and  covered  the  opening  with  sod.  Cutting  a  score  of 
withes,  he  skewered  a  rib-chop,  salted  and  peppered, 
to  the  taper  end  of  each.  Mrs.  Garrulson  looked  on  ; 
she  was  not  willing  to  admit  much,  but  was,  at  most, 
not  churlish  with  her  gifts. 


174  SNAP. 

"Ef  yer  gwyne  to  have  a  feast,  I'll  len  a  ban." 

Drawing  out  of  the  many  folds  of  a  white  rag  wrap, 
she  brought  to  light  a  bit  of  sour  dough ;  this  was  the 
leaven  of  the  large  lump  she  was  soon  kneading;  then 
she  seized  upon  a  square  tin  box,  an  inch  or  two  in 
depth,  which  Beck  used  for  his  way-bills.  She  raised 
the  folding  lid  and  placed  her  loaves  therein ;  she 
tilted  the  box  before  the  fire,  sprinkling  a  few  coals 
under  the  bottom.  Beck  laughed,  for  he  saw  at  once 
the  quick  wit  of  her  contrivance ;  the  bright  inside  of 
the  top  reflected  the  heat  upon  the  rounded  loaves,  the 
coals  beneath  baked  the  bottom. 

He  was  fairly  challenged  to  do  his  best ;  he  forced 
the  pointed  ends  of  his  sprigs  into  the  ground  before 
the  log-heap,  and  the  rods  bent  over  the  coal-bed  from 
the  weight  of  the  chops  at  the  smaller  end ;  the  men 
copied  him,  and  broiled  the  tender  hump-steaks  in  like 
manner. 

When  all  was  ready,  the  bake,  as  the  old^voman 
said,  "wus  brown  as  a  chesnut,  an  light  as  a  fedder." 

Now  the  scout  removed  the  cover  from  his  roasted 
tid-bits,  and  the  matron,  outdone,  yielded  easily. 

"  May  I  never,"  she  said,  "  it  smells  like  a  cook- 
stove  in  pie-time." 

There  was  naught  left  for  the  wolves  but  the  bones, 
when  the  supper  ended. 

"I  throw'd  a  lash,  Cappin,"  said  Legs,  speaking  to 
Whack,  "wen  I  war  only  ten,  and  got  my  recommea 
at  fifteen." 

"How,  Legs?" 


THE  PIRATES—  THE  ROADSIDE   CAMP—  YARNS.     175 

"  Dis  a  way  ;  ray  fader  sont  me  out  on  to  the  pike  a 
haulin  stone,  an  I  bed  a  one-eyed  wheel-ox  as  cross  as 
a  briar-fence.  Well,  sumpin  skeered  the  team,  an  that 
ar  ox  never  stopped  till  he  mired  the  wagon,  hub- 
down,  with  a  big  load.  It  war  in  the  fall  an  coolish 
like,  so  I  didn't  mind  work  with  the  whip  ;  but  it  war 
no  yuse  ;  might  as  leave  hev  tickled  a  mountin.  Now, 
Cappin,  how  would  you  a  got  that  ar  team  out?" 

"  What'd  you  do,  Legs  ?  " 

"  The  fodder  was  a  stannin  thick  on  the  hill,  and  I 
jes  went  up  to  the  top  of  it,  on  the  blind  side  of  that 
ar  ox,  an  with  a  hoop  an  a  yell,  an  these  yer  arms  an 
legs  a  spread  out,  I  cum'd  a'  boomin.  It  war  breakin 
fodder  like  a  sugar-mill ;  it  sounded  like  a  harricane, 
an  ef  you'll  bleeve  it,  Cappin,  that  ar  ox  pulled  the 
whole  load  out  hisself." 

Beck,  in  a  group  of  teamsters,  was  asked  by  one  : 

"  Wat's  the  good  of  all  these  extra  men  ?  " 

This  broached  a  subject  upon  which  he  had  kept 
quiet  not  to  excite  the  fears  of  the  men,  nor  to  borrow 
a  danger  not  yet  in  sight ;  but  as  they  seemed  eager  for 
an  answer,  he  said  : 

"Mebbe  you'll  wish  thar  were  twice  as  many." 

"But  we  oughter  know." 

"Jes  three  things,  if  you  will  know  :  Spiders,  Cart- 
wright  and  fight ;  that's  the  long  and  short  of  it,  boys, 
and  We'll  pull  through  ef  we  have  to  pull  over  them." 

"Spiders?"  was  repeated  by  several. 

"Yes,"  said  Beck,  "the  blood-hounds  of  the  sou- 
west." 


176 

r'  Them's  the  black-hearts  uv  the  sage-bush,"  spoke 
up  an  old  hand. 

"An  I'se  heerd  tell,"  said  another,  "they  can  scalp 
with  the  throw  of  a  tomerhawk." 

"Wat  of  it,"  said  a  burly  fellow,  "we  signed  to  take 
the  risks,  an  we'll  take  em  ;  that's  all." 

As  the  camp-fire,  without  the  usual  yarn,  would  have 
been  a  feast  without  viands,  the  older  head  who  had 
spoken  first,  began  the  spinning.  The  pipes  were 
puffed  at  high  pressure,  when  the  men,  squatting  like 
Arabs,  drew  round  the  speaker. 

"Well,  yer  see,  boys,  them  ar  Spiders  es  jes  about 
the  wus  tau-skinned  whelps  in  this  yar  univarse  ;  I'se 
heerd  tell  about  this  yar  chief  we'se  a  comin  on  to." 
"He's  wicked,  I  knows;  kase  I'se  heerd  as  how  he 
slayed  a  party  uv  emigrants,  babes  and  all,"  said  a 
chum  to  warm  up  the  recital. 

Hold  on,  I'se  a  comin  to  him ;  an  yer  see  this 
chief  is  a  pooty  lively  sorter  cuss  ;  thar's  no  white 
fodder  in  his  top-knot  by  a  long-chalk ;  he's  tall  as  a 
pine,  squar  built,  an  he  wars  in  hes  yeers  two  scelp- 
1  lifts  fer  yen-ings  ;  thar's  a  bald  scar  on  the  top  of  his 
head.  Dus  yerwanter  ter  know  bout  them  yerrino-s?" 
"Let's  have  it,"  said  a  number;  and  the  old°man 
stretched  his  limbs,  reloaded  his  pipe,  and  went  on 
with  his  yarn. 

"  Well,  they  do  say  he's  the  .wus  gambler  nor  any 
other  black-heart  in  these  yer  sou-west  tribes.  The 
Spiders  an  the  Bonebows  play  a  game  they  calls 
'Hand.'" 


THE  PIRATES  — THE  ROADSIDE    CAMP— YARNS.     177 

"Yes,  I  know  how  it's  played,"  said  one;  "they 
puts  up  all  they'se  got,  down  to  moccasins,  in  two 
piles  ;  then  wim  shakes  a  plum  or  a  cherry  stone  in  the 
hands ;  then  he  closes  up  the  hands,  an  tother  wuns 
guess  whar  the  stone  is." 

"Well,  thesyar  chief  war  out  on  the  war-path  by 
hisself,  hungry  to  raise  bar  an  ready  for  huggin,  when 
he  corned  to  a  medicine  spring;  you  all  knows  wat 
that  ar  ;  ets  free  ground  fer  all,  one  Injin  jes  as  good  as 
tother  as  frens,  all  to  onct  et  that.  Hyar  he  met  a 
Bonebow  drinkin  at  the  spring  ;  he  made  a  peace- sign 
an  then  he  drank  too  ;  then  they  smoked  their  kinnic- 
kinnic  an  sot  down  to  a  game  of  Hand  fer  all  night." 

"An  they  bed  a  lively  ole  time,  I  reckon,"  spoke  up 
one  who  took  a  deep  interest  in  wagers  of  any  kind. 

"Jus  so,  ole  boss,  you  mine  me;  thar  war  nothin 
else  but  a  high  ole  time.  Bonebow  he  won  clean 
through ;  arrer  arter  arrer,  then  tother  AVUII'S  club,  hes 
knife,  hes  bow,  hes  robe,  an  the  Spider  sot  nakit  on 
to  the  plain." 

"  Cleaned  out ;  "  chimed  in  the  man  of  chance. 

"  Sartin  ;  couldn't  a  bin  cleaner  ;  but  the  Spider  bed 
jus  wuu  more  chence." 

"How's  that?  he  war  cleaned  out  you  sed  ;  "  spoke 
up  Legs,  to  appear  smart  among  his  elders. 

"  Don't  throw  yersef  away,  boy  ;  he  bed  a  chence." 

"  What  chence  ?  "  said  a  score  taking  the  cue  from 
Legs. 

"His  scelp  ;  and  he  bet  it  too,  boys." 

"Did  he  win?"  was  quickly  asked. 


178 

"No  sir-ee ;  he  lost  agin.  He  jus  bent  his  head 
down,  jus  as  if  he  war  going  to  hev  his  har  brushed, 
an  the  Bonebow  he  lifted  it, — jus  as  pooty,  —  an  it 
lef  him  bawlhedded." 

"  What'd  he  do  ?  "  the  story  was  growing  warm  and 
the  men  excited. 

"Well,  the  Spider  war  pluck  all  the  time;  grit 
to  the  last,  an  he  made  Bonebow  promise  to  meet  him 
agin  at  the  same  place." 

"  Go  on  ;  "  said  Legs  in  his  boy-like,  eager  way. 

"True  as  preachin,  pardners,  they  com'd  thar  agin 
in  anuder  yeah,  an  sot  down  to  gamble  on  the  same 
spot." 

"Which  won?"  queried  an  anxious  listener. 

"Hold  on  ;  go  slow  an  shuah  like  a  ox  team.  Well, 
Spider  had  the  luck  this  time  ;  he  made  Bonebow  come 
every  time  an  sot  him  nakit  on  to  the  plain,  an  his 
scelp  gone  too ;  but  the  Bonebow  hed  jus  wuii  more 
chence." 

"An  his  scelp  gone  too?  See  heah,  ole  coon,  let 
up  ;  "  said  the  burly  fellow,  growing  a  little  uneasy  as 
to  the  truth  of  the  narrative. 

"How's  that?  take  keer,  ole  man  ;  "  joined  in  others. 

"But  he  hed  the  chence,  I  tell  yer,  sartin." 

"  Out  with  it,  lets  heah." 

"He  had  one  chence,  and  boys  that  wus  his  life  ;  he 
played  ginst  the  Spider,  life  for  life  ;  they  played,  — 
the  Spider  an  the  Bonebow  did,  —  an  Bonebow  lost. 
Hardest  kind  of  luck,  but  it's  true,  boys,  or  I'm  a 
saint;  an  the  Bonebow  stood  up,  barred  his  brest  like 


THE  PIRATES— THE  ROADSIDE    CAMP  — YARNS.     179 

a  man,  an  the  Spider  killed  him,  then  an  thar,  right 
on  the  spot.  Thet's  why  the  Spider  wars  two  scelps 
as  yerrings,  — hissen  an  tother  wun's."  : 

w  That'll  do  for  an  ole  man,"  said  one  who  had  his 

doubts. 

"  Thet's  nuthin,"  continued  the  speaker,  "  why,  boys, 
thet  same  Spider  stood  up  in  a  Sun-dance ,-— an  yer 
know  what  thet  is,  wen  they'se  cut  the  flesh  in  strips, 
ail  so  on,  — an  let  em  drov  a  knife  froo  his  breast 

bone/' 

"  An  he  lived  arter  that  ?  " 

"  Lived  !  why  he  jus  warked  with  et  a  stickin  thar 
fer  yeahs." 

"How'd  he  git  it  out?" 

« Ho w'd  he  git  it  out?"  answered  the  story-teller  in 
amaze ;  his  yarn  had  run  out  too  long  and  was  tang 
ling  ;.  " how'd  he  git  it  out?  " 

"Yes,  how'd  lie  git  it  out?"  said  several,  seeing 
him  flounder;  "let's  heah,  all  bout  it." 

"  Don't  pester  yersefs  ;  he  got  it  out,  sartin  ;  "  the  old 
man  was  cornered. 

"Let's  heah,  now." 

"  Well,  he  jus  let  it  work  itssef  out ;  in  course,  what 
else."  The  laugh  went  round,  in  which  Beck  joiued 
louder  than  the  rest. 

"  That'll  do,  ole  man  ;  "  they  all  said. 

" I  don't  keer  a  darn,  ef  he's  got  wun  yerring  or  two  ; 
ef  he  crosses  our  path,  boys,  we'll  make  his  yer  wring, 

*  This  incident  is  gleaned  from  Ruxton's  "  Far  West ;"  rendered  by  the 
writer  into  the  vernacular  of  the  camp. 


180  SNAP. 

fer  shuah ;  "  said  the  burly  fellow,  shaking  the   ashes 

from  his  pipe. 

"  An  that's  the  right  talk  ;  I'll  see  you  through." 
Beck  left  the   crowd,  which  in   small  parties  soon 

agreed  upon  the  peril  to   come ;  they  measured  it  in 

their  own  fearless  way,   nor  was  courage  needed  to 

meet  and  defy  it. 

From  some  truant  thought  of  home,  some  influence 

of  the  day-like  night,  perhaps,  Mrs.  Garrulson's  shrill 

nasal  voice  burst  in  upon  the  slumber  of  the  camp  : 

"  An  my  soul  it  mounted  hiah 
In  a  charyet  uv  flah, 
An  the  moon,  it  war  under  my  feet." 

This  she  kept  up  until  called  to  order. 

But  the  peace  that  came  again  was  short-lived  ;  a 
quick,  sharp  bark  was  heard,  then  again,  an  echo  of 
the  first,  then  a  third  and  fourth  falsetto  in  the  chorus 
of  cayotes,  and  when  Beck  relieved  Whack,  on  guard, 
the  discord  grew  louder. 


BAZOUKS—  BLA CK  BRIGADE  —  SPIDERS*  NEST.     181 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE   BAZOUKS  —  THE    BLACK   BRIGADE  —  THE     SPIDERS' 

NEST. 

The  fleet-footed  spy  held  his  pace,  with  his  head  up 
and  his  arms  at  rest  on  his  sides.  His  strides  were 
regular  and  direct.  One  foot  struck  the  earth  flatly, 
raising  the  body  writh  ease,  caught  it  well  poised  on 
the  other  foot,  and  completed  a  perfect  motion.  He 
ran  steadily,  and  when  the  stars  came  out  his  race  had 
been  long,  but  he  kept  to  it  without  fagging.  Through 
briar  and  brush,  leaping  brooks,  wading  creeks,  out  on 
the  glistening  tables,  down  into  the  bottoms  where  the 
grass  waved  about  his  waist,  he  still  held  his  head  erect 
and  his  arms  at  ease.  A  lone  tree  marked  his  first 
goal,  and  on  reaching  it  he  stopped  short.  Throwing 
his  arms  about,  he  drew  a  long,  healthful  breath, 
dropped  to  the  earth  to  respite  his  frame,  then  sprang 
to  his  feet.  To  feel  that  no  limb  had  stiffened  he  put 
them  into  play,  cast  a  pebble  or  two  into  his  mouth, 
and  again  sped  away.  He  ran  on  in  easy  stages,  and 
when  the  last  flat-footed  stride  was  made,  the  lad  stood 
upon  a  knoll,  rising  above  a  thicket  in  the  hollow  be 
low  him.  Here  he  listened  long,  his  hands  held  as 
funnels  about  his  ears  to  catch  the  remotest  sound  ; 
with  a  quick  change  one  hand  covered  his  mouth,  like 


182  SNAP. 

a  valve.  Then  a  full-lunged  shriek  rent  the  hush  of 
the  night  and  searched  the  recesses  of  the  silence.  It 
was  so  sharp,  so  shrill  a  warning,  so  harsh  to  the  soli 
tude,  a  wolf  far  away  yelped  in  fright ;  space  caught  it 
tip  and  wasted  it  round  the  hiding-place  of  the  thieves. 
They  sprang  into  the  open  glade  and  beckoned  to  the 
Indian  :  he  joined  them  and  gave  the  sign.  The  train 
was  on  the  road. 

They  paid  the  spy  his  price ;  then,  mounting,  Cart- 
wright  with  a  coarse  laugh  said  : 

"  Vamo — the  Spiders  !  " 

"B'wen,"  answered  the  Mexican,  giggling;  the  run 
ner  folding  his  arms,  looked  after  the  riders,  and  with 
a  grunt  sat  down.  He  drew  from  a  beaded  pocket  a 
piece  of  dried  beef,  ate  it,  lighted  a  fire,  and  stretch 
ing  himself  by  "the  wolf-scariug  fagots,"  he  was  soon 
asleep. 

It  was  while  Beck  sat  at  the  camp-fire  chat  that  the 
spy  signed  to  Cartwright  and  Cruz  that  the  train  was 
on  the  road,  and  had  made  good  progress  towards  its 
destination. 

A  sudden  cry  of  alarm  aroused  the  camp  at  day 
light  : 

"Injins!  Injins  ! "  shouted  the  cattle-guard.  The 
stock  was  driven  into  the  inclosure,  the  broken  wagon- 
line  closed,  and  the  men  stood  armed,  each  with  his 
rifle  or  musket,  and  waiting  : 

"Steady  where  you  stand;  quiet,"  ordered  their 
leader,  ,takk\g  up  his  gun ;  "  it's  a  hunting  band, 
that's  all." 


BAZOUKS—  BLACK  BRIGADE  — SPIDERS'  NEST.     183 

Mrs.  Garrulson  awaked  suddenly  from  her  morning 
nap,  frightened  at  the  horrors  of  a  night-mare. 

"  Happy  Canaan,"  she  screamed,  "what's  up?" 

"The  Injins  are  down  on  us,"  answered  Sandy. 

"  Injins  !  "  and  she  scrambled  from  her  perch  ;  "  may 
I  never ;  ets  all  rny  own  doins,  fer  the  kurnel  did  say 
stay,  thet's  a  tac,  an  go  I  would  "  —  after  a  short  pause, 
"an  go  I  will  ef  I  hev  to  lick  a  whole  tribe  misself."  A 
loud  laugh  greeted  this  sudden  change  of  front  from  a 
scare  to  valor,  but  the  men  held  to  their  places,  look 
ing  out  on  the  distance. 

Coming  up  the  valley  in  a  hard  gallop,  the  troop  of 
Indian  horsemen  drew  near.  They  rode  at  full  speed, 
each  rider  sitting  his  horse  with  graceful  ease ;  when 
just  beyond  rifle-range  they  reined  up  and  held  coun 
sel.  Their  mounts  were  bare-backed  ponies,  fat  and 
frolicsome,  cousins-german  to  the  wild  horse,  mustang, 
with  scarcely  a  shade  of  difference.  In  the  fitness  of 
things,  the  little  four-footed  beast  seems  created  for  the 
Indian,  and  for  nothing  else  ;  unfit,  as  he  is,  for  any 
thing  else  but  the  mount  of  the  savage.  In  habit, 
form,  endurance,  he  is  as  much  a  savage  as  the  Indian, 
sharing  with  him  all  his  vicissitudes.  He  lives  through 
the  dreary  snow-bound  winters  on  tree  bark,  a  shaggy 
skeleton.  The  spring  trims  his  coat  and  fills  his  belly. 
Take  him  away  from  his  habits  and  his  haunts,  feast 
him  on  the  better  fare  of  better  animals,  he  mopes 
lazily,  a  tricky,  hateful,  sullen  cob ;  he  snaps  at  kind 
ness,  and  shows  his  heels  to  a  benefactor.  Each  rider, 
nude  to  the  waist,  was  a  picked  man  for  the  chase. 


184  SNAP. 

The  chief,  with  a  wave  of  the  hand,  dispersed  them, 
and  then  began  a  wild  rout.  The  seat  of  each  rider 
was  held  by  a  girdle,  and  the  dash  of  each  horse  was 
guided  by  a  single  thong.  On  they  rushed,  helter- 
skelter,  shrieking  at  every  jump  ;  now,  one  would  fall 
head  down  to  yell  under  the  animal ;  again,  at  full 
length  on  his  back  or  side ;  now,  the  whole  band 
charged  en  masse;  on  a  signal,  it  was  scattered.  On 
another  signal,  a  part  wheeled  and  massed,  and  during 
the  entire  drill  not  a  word  was  spoken  by  the  chief; 
a  scarcely  perceptible  motion  of  the  hand  directed  it. 
A  piece  of  looking-glass,  as  the  day  was  sunny,  held 
to  catch  the  rays,  threw  the  signal  to  any  given  dis 
tance.  There  are  other  signs  by  which  the  same 
drill  is  ordered,  —  a  secret  closely  kept,  as  no  white 
mnn  has  ever  found  out  the  method, — signs  which  are 
readily  heeded,  though  the  sky  be  black  with  clouds, 
the  dust  hide  the  baud,  or  the  noise  loud  enough  to 
drown  a  human  voice. 

"  That's  a  good  show,  boys,  but  thar  ain't  the  sign  of 
a  scalp-knife  or  paint  about  em,"  said  Beck. 

The  chief  sat  on  his  horse  apart,  and  with  another 
motion  formed  the  riders  on  parade  near  him.  They 
had  bows  and  quivers,  and  sheath-knives,  a  few  rifles 
and  spears.  One,  by  his  orders,  rode  midway  between 
the  two  parties,  struck  a  spear  into  the  earth,  and  rode 
back. 

Beck,  mounting  a  wagon,  gun  in.  hand,  said  to  his 
men  : 

"  Cock  your  guns  and  keep  your  eye  on  me ;  I'm 


BAZOUKS—  BLACK  BRIGADE— SPIDERS'   NEST.     185 

going  to  meet  'em.  Tf  I  sign  with  my  right  hand, 
blaze  away  ;  I'll  take  care  of  number  one." 

He  raised  his  rifle  above  his  head,  then  laid  it  at  his 
feet ;  signed  that  his  belt  was  unarmed  ;  then  leaping 
down,  he  strode  up  to  the  spear-staff,  and  stood  there 
with  folded  arms. 

When  Beck  had  taken  his  stand,  the  chief  handed 
his  bow  to  one  near  him,  got  down  and  joined  the 
scout : 

"How!" 

"  How  !  "  A  hand-shake  and  the  brief  introduction, 
was  over. 

"  Good  man— -you — Beck,"  said  the  Indian. 

"Big  chief,  Little  Elk,"  answered  the  other,  recog 
nizing  a  noted  brave  of  one  of  the  largest  tribes  on 
the  plains.  The  scout  was  glad  to  meet  him,  as  he 
was  not  only  a  friendly  redskin,  but  one  from  whom 
much  valuable  information  could  be  had.  In  the  talk 
that  followed,  the  scout  learned  that  an  officer  had  been 
sent  out  to  a  distant  fort  to  take  the  Spiders  in  hand ; 
that  they  were  on  the  war-path,  and  that  he,  Beck, 
could  not,  as  he  hoped,  avoid  or  escape  a  fight ;  fur 
ther,  that  he  might  reach  the  fort  in  time  to  deliver  the 
order  for  an  escort,  and  for  such  purpose  he  was  kindly 
offered  a  guide.  In  return  Beck  made  many  presents, 
giving  them  in  the  name  of  Colonel  Cheviteau. 

"Kevochoo!  Kevochoo!"  exclaimed  the  chief; 
"good  man,  him — Kevochoo;  him — heapfren."  Then 
ensued  an  expressive  dumb  show,  for  an  Indian  is 
nothing  if  not  dramatic.  He  touched  his  breast  with 


186  SNAP. 

his  fist,  meaning  that  Cheviteau's  heart  was  big  ;  he 
stared  wide  and  steadily,  meaning  the  honesty  of  the 
trader;  he  closed  his  teeth,  with  reference  to  his 
friend's  firmness  ;  and  that  he  was  truthful,  he  signed 
that  the  tongue  was  whole  and  not  split.  "Kevochoo, 
he  good  man;  Injin— heap— like  him,  wagh."  He 
turned  aside  and  was  silent. 

Presently,  Little  Elk  transferred  to  the  care  of  the 
scout  an  Indian  lad  and  his  pony.  He  was  to  be  the 
guide,  and  would  lead  by  a  cut-off  trail  to  the  lodges 
of  his  people,  and  thence  on  to  the  fort.  Now  mount 
ing,  the  chief,  with  his  band,  galloped  away  on  the 
hunt  of  the  bison.* 

While  Beck  and  the  Indians  smoked  the  ceremonial 
pipe,  a  teamster  who  looked  on  said  to  Sandy  : 

"An  wat  wud  they  be  afther?" 

"It's  the  pipe  of  peace  thee's  be  doin." 

"Pfats  't?"  asked  another. 

"A  pace  av  a  pipe  they're  whiffin,"  answered  the 
first. 

"It's  de  ould  sthock,  av  coorse." 

"Whack,"  said  Beck,  a  short  way  further  on,  "I'm 
off  for  the  fort  in  the  mornin." 

tf  To  be  gone  how  long?" 

"  Before  you  get  into  danger  I'll  be  with  you/' 

"All  right.     I'll  pull  slow." 

"This  boy's  a  good  un  ;  watch  him." 

Whack  glanced  at  the  young  redskin,  as  he  moved 

*  The  writer  adopts  this  in  deference  to  the  naturalist,  but  the 
name  is  never  heard  on  the  plains. 


BAZOUKS—  BLACK  BRIGADE  — SPIDERS  NEST.     187 

about  with  his  pony.  He  was  tall,  raw-boned  and 
wiry;  his  shoulders  broad,  muscular;  a  good  head, 
fine  face,  strong  mouth.  The  coarse,  jet  hair,  plaited, 
fell  upon  his  copper  skin  with  rich  effect ;  his  step  was 
bold  and  elastic. 

Meeting  Mrs.  Garrulson,  who  planted  herself  in 
dismay  at  the  sight  of  the  Indian,  Beck  said  to  her : 

"That's  your  adopted  son,  mam,"  pointing  to  the 
boy. 

"  What !  that  ar  sonnerver-gun  !  "  At  which  the 
men  laughed,  and  the  boy,  quick  to  see  that  he  was  the 
butt  of  joke,  muttered  : 

"  Ugh  !  squaw  !  " 

"Ef  I  had  yer  onct,"  she  was  prompt  to  say,  "I'd 
make  yer  squak  wus  nor  that." 

"What  would  you  do  with  him?"  asked  Whack. 

"  Skin  him  !  "  In  disgust  she  turned  about  and  went 
her  way 

The  scout  and  the  guide,  a  little  in  advance  of  the 
train,  had  ridden  to  the  crest  of  a  knoll,  when  the  lat 
ter,  getting  down  from  his  pony,  bent  his  gaze  on  cer 
tain  distant  objects.  They  seemed  to  the  eye  a  clump 
of  bushes,  but  when  the  scout  fixed  his  sight  upon 
them  the  lad  said  : 

"Burners." 

Beck,  in  doubt,  watched  closely,  and  as  he  was  able 
to  see  dark,  moving  forms,  growing  larger,  coming 
nearer,  he  nodded  assent  to  the  Indian. 

A  dozen  stragglers,  quietly  feeding,  were  left  behind 
by  some  passing  herd.  So  thought  Beck ;  but  the 


188  SNAP. 

guide  signed  to  him  to  wait  and  they  would  soon  see 
a  stirring  spectacle.  The  truants  were  now  near 
enough  to  be  seen  in  the  rough  sport  of  a  mock  battle  ; 
the  mimic  strife  was  kept  up  for  a  time,  when  it  sud 
denly  ceased,  and  the  combatants  broke  away  in  a  run. 
In  delight  the  kd  threw  himself  on  the  ground  ;  then, 
springing  to  his  feet,  he  exclaimed  : 

"Heap!"  holding  up  the  lingers  of  both  hands,  to 
denote  a  great  number. 

The  antics  of  the  Indian  and  the  bison  alike  might 
have  been  confounding  to  the  common  eye,  but  to  the 
scout  they  were  not  so.  Dismounting,  he  caught  the 
bit  of  his  young,  fractious  horse  with  a  firm  hold. 
The  fleeing  animals,  warned  by  the  tramp  of  a  herd 
not  far  off,  turned  out  of  its  path  with  a  quick,  in 
stinctive  dread,  to  fall  in  at  the  rear  or  on  the  flank. 
They  had  escaped  certain  death.  On  the  run,  not 
even  for  its  own  kind,  is  its  mad  career  for  an  in 
stant  turned  aside ;  and  knowing  this,  the  Indian 
read  the  sign  aright,  and  had  fallen  to  the  earth  to 
listen. 

Then  came  to  their  ears  the  sound  of  a  mighty 
tread  ;  vast  numbers  of  the  wild  cattle  were  in  motion  ; 
as  they  looked,  the  herd  dashed  into  full  view,  round 
ing  a  grove;  its  power  and  bulk  combined,  compressed, 
groaned  from  attrition ;  its  speed,  increased  from  the 
moving  weight,  rose  and  fell,  surging  like  a  storm- 
crossed  ocean  swell,  and  black  as  the  clouds  above  it. 
In  the  lead,  a  great,  royal  beast  led  the  charge 
sternly,  his  shaggy  mane  rising  like  the  hump  of  a 


BAZOUKS—  BLACK  BRIGADE  — SPIDERS'  NEST.     189 

camel ;  his  tail,  like  a  baton,  waved  in  the  whirl  of 
strife  ;  his  deep-throated  bellow,  the  rally-cry  to  his 
fellows.  Right  royally  he  led ;  the  mass  upon  his 
heels  pressed  him  hard.  The  outer  files  seemed  to 
bear  against  the  body,  compact  but  moveable,  to  con 
dense  its  vim.  Therein  lay  the  contrast  with  the 
flurried  rout  of  a  drove ;  the  one  a  solid  charge,  the 
other  a  panic  ;  one  a  stampede,  the  other  an  onslaught ; 
one,  in  motion  like  a  host  of  veterans,  the  other  a 
mob  ;  one  illustrating  Bull  Run,  the  other  the  phalanx 
of  Marshal  Ney.  Coming  on,  it  was  seen  that  the  band 
of  Little  .Elk  rode  close  upon  the  flank,  yelling,  goad 
ing  and  killing  as  they  rode.  The  mustangs  were 
fired  with  the  ardor  of  the  chase,  and  the  riders 
shouted,  as  they  sprung  the  quivering  shaft  into  the 
living  target.  They  strewed  the  broad  road  with  the 
slain  and  wounded. 

"Hoop-ee!"  yelled  Beck,  wrought  up  to  the  wild 
delight  of  his  boyish  nature. 

Arrows  and  spears  were  plied  to  spur  their  horses  to 
the  front ;  the  band  used  every  artifice  to  reach  the 
bull  in  the  lead,  and  the  rivalry  grew  to  be  intensely 
tragic.  The  speed  of  hunter  and  hunted  was  about 
equal.  Now,  with  a  cry  of  daring,  a  young  savage 
came  bounding  by,  and  the  guide  was  stirred  to  frenzy 
at  the  sight;  running,  leaping  with  a  fierce  joy,  the 
better  to  observe  him.  On  he  came,  goading  his  mus 
tang  to  a  dash  some  distance  beyond  the  herd.  Then 
he  wheeled,  when  his  first  arrow  left  the  bow.  The 
exploit  was  one  to  achieve  the  full  glory  of  the  chase, 


190  SNAP. 

by  crossing  the  path,  emptying  his  quiver  into  the 
herd  and  to  reach  the  opposite  flank,  unharmed. 
Nothing  but  fine  strategy  could  save  him  from  death ; 
again  taking  a  direct,  again  an  oblique,  gaining  slowly 
by  zigzag  turns,  the  endurance  of  the  horse  was  cruelly 
tried.  Still  the  rider  urged  him  on,  and  as  the  last 
arrow  sped  to  its  mark,  he  rallied  him  with  a  shriek 
so  shrill  the  beast  leaped  from  the  ground.  Wheeling, 
at  last,  to  escape  the  rolling  wave,  all  who  looked  on 
felt  that  his  triumph  was  sure. 

Just  then,  rider  and  horse  went  down,  and  the  surg 
ing,  grinding  herd  stamped  into  the  earth  the  stricken, 
forms,  under  their  reeking  hoofs. 

The  horse's  foot  had  sunk  into  the  burrow  of  a 
prairie-dog,  a  mischance,  from  which  there  was  no  re 
call,  at  the  supreme  moment  of  the  rider's  fate.  Beck 
for  a  moment  closed  his  eyes,  but  the  stoical  boy, 
pointing  to  where  the  hunter  and  his  mount  perished, 
said  calmly : 

"  Brother  —  me  —  him  ;  "  then  turning  his  back  was 
silent. 

The  scout,  thrilled  with  manly  pity,  laid  his  broad, 
brotherly  hand  on  the  bare  shoulder  of  the  lad,  and 
spoke  with  true  feeling. 

"Good;  —  good;  him,  big,  big  chief;"  the  boy 
smiled,  it  was  enough  for  his  pride  ;  the  pity  he  did 
not  care  for.  They  mounted  their  horses,  striking  a 
trail  leading  north,  riding  hard  on  the  road  to  fort. 

The  black  wave  surged  on ;  it  swept  by  like  the 
charge  of  Balaklava,  vaster,  grander,  —  a  riderless 


BAZOUKS  —  BLACK  BRIGADE— SPIDER'S  NEST.     191 

horde  ;  like  Niagara's  current  on  the  verge  of  the  tall ; 
like  the  Mississippi's  freshet,  the  scoria  heaved  up  and 
flung  to  the  torrent,  it  surged  on  and  out  of  sight. 

There  was  not  a  sign  of  living  verdure  on  the  dark 
road  ploughed  by  the  raid ;  the  sod  uprooted  was 
strewn  in  fragments  with  the  harrowed  earth.  Of  the 
hunter  and  his  ho.rse  there  was  scarce  a  vestige  to  be 
found  ;  they  had  gone  down  to  be  ground  out  of  all 
semblance  to  anything  living  or  dead. 

The  train  halted  as  the  chase  came  on,  and  even  the 
mild-eyed  cattle  stared  at  the  sight.  The  low,  western 
sun  threw  back  a  crimson  gleam  on  the  long,  silent 
line,  on  the  startled  faces  of  the  men  as  they  leaned 
on  their  whips. 

But  the  peaceful  glow,  lying  still,  on  the  green, 
golden  vista,  deepened  the  war-paint  of  a  savage  hiding 
near  them ;  it  reddened  the  "  blood-sign "  on  the 
Spider's  face,  and  as  he  stole  away,  the  bald,  seared 
patch  on  his  brow  whitened  in  the  fire  of  hate. 

The  Spider  chief  had  made  a  detour  from  the 
Mexican  town,  arriving  at  the  lodges  of  his  people 
after  a  long  run,  and  voiced  his  corning  by  outcries 
that  aroused  the  village.  His  was  a  bush  tribe  of  the 

o 

forest  haunts  which  borrows  its  habits  from  the  beast ; 
stealthy,  slow-footed,  creeping  cravens  ;  sullen  from 
the  gloom  of  their  abiding  place,  conjuring  phantoms 
from  the  shadows  and  propitiating  them  by  inhuman 
cruelties.  Every  man  was  robust,  of  needs  must  be, 
for  no  feeble-born  could  live  through  the  horrors  of 
a  boyhood  training. 


192  SNAP. 

Young  men  and  old,  women  and  children  ran  to  the 
outer  circle  of  the  wigwams,  and  sent  back  an  answer 
to  the  ear  of  their  leader. 

His  braves  were  chosen  with  regard  to  their  vicious 
natures,  with  whom  ferocity  was  a  virtue  and  hate  of 
the  whites  a  fiery  passion.  Taking  breath  the  chief 
called  them  around  him,  drove  the  rabble  a\vny  with 
frowns,  and  when  the  circle  was  formed,  the  women, 
children  and  dogs  dispersed  to  the  prairie. 

Then  the  swarthy  crowd  crouched,  their  limbs  bent 
under  them,  and  there  never  was  known  a  viler  horde 
in  the  work  of  death-dealing  deviltry.  There  was  a 
look  on  all,  horror  stricken,  grinning  ghastly  in  the 
paint  and  grime  of  their  faces  ;  some  stared  fiendishly, 
—  the  stare  of  demons  ;  —  other  visages  in  the  mask, 
lean,  thin,  cold,  leered  like  the  false  face  of  a  devil ; 
the  younger,  not  less  gross,  spread  their  thick-lipped 
lecherous  mouths. 

A  low,  guttural  chant  was  begun, — the  distress 
wail  of  an  animal,  — growing  louder  and  wilder  till 
each  in  his  own  discord  joined  in. 

The  chief  was  in  waiting  not  far  off,  and  draining  a 
flask  which  he  threw  away,  he  stepped  into  the  circle. 
His  tall  form  as  it  rose  among  them,  striped  and 
smirched,  was  that  of  a  half-nude  giant  ready  for 
battle.  His  parti-colored  face,  black  and  red,  a  yellow 
smear  on  the  upper  lip,  green,  tigerish  lines  on  the 
forehead,  a  bald,  carious  scar  from  the  brow  to  the 
scalp-tuft  in  which  an  eagle's  feather  stood  stiffly  up, 
and  skeins  of  scalp-hair  drooping  from  the  ears, 


BAZO UKS  —  BLA  CK  BRIGADE  —  SPIDER'S  NES T.     193 

was  a  hideous  picture.  He  spoke  to  his  band,  adroitly 
firing  their  malice,  anger,  greed  ;  he  traced  the  path  to 
revenge  and  plunder  with  savage  pride,  and  without 
much  effort  was  the  master  of  their  brutish  instincts. 
He  chose  his  men  by  lot,  a  small  army,  setting  a  day 
for  the  dance  and  the  war-whoop.  Then  giving  orders 
to  await  his  return,  he  started  forth  in  the  darkness. 
His  race,  like  that  of  the  spy,  through  the  night  and  day 
was  the  trot  of  a  steady  animal ;  his  eyes  were  feasted 
on  the  resting  train,  and  he  sped  back  to  his  camp  as 
the  pirate  neared  it. 

At  the  camp  of  the  packers,  Cruz  was  left  in  charge 
of  the  gang,  and  Cartwright  hastened  forward  alone,  to 
the  Spiders'  town.  The  fires  were  seen  long  before 
his  ears  caught  the  din  within  its  limits ;  he  kept  on 
fearlessly  until  challenged  by  the  chief  in  person,  who 
led  him  into  the  blazing  square. 

There  was  no  stop  to  the  dreadful  orgy ;  circling 
poles  that  bore  as  pennants  the  scalp  locks  of  their 
victims,  the  mad  mischief  grew  louder,  wilder;  a 
spectacle  to  be  seen  but  once,  and  never  forgotten  ;  an 
awful  type  of  the  horrible,  of  creatures  writhing,  their 
features  all  awry,  twisting  the  form  of  manhood  to 
every  grimace,  swaying  the  body  to  unshapely  pos 
tures  like  the  stricken  or  deformed  ;  crawling,  leaping, 
bending,  barking  like  dogs,  snapping  like  wolves, 
hooting  like  owls,  laughing,  crying,  yelling,  groaning 
like  the  damned: 

"  A  strong  adversary,  an  inhuman  wretch. 
Incapable  of  pity,  void  and  empty 
From  every  drachm  of  mercy." 


194 

The  pirate  sat  there  ;  his  game  went  bravoly  on  ;  ho 
saw  the  paint  on  their  faces  and  naked  breasts  ;  he 
saw  the  clutch  upon  the  scalping-knives  in  mimic 
butchery  ;  he  saw  weapons  of  death  at  every  turn  of  his 
eye,  and  the  wretch  looked  on  and  smiled  ;  the  sign  of  a 
nature  lower  than  the  brute  —  the  painted  brutes  before 
him. 

The  chief  waved  his  hand  and  there  was  silence  ;  he 
spoke  of  Cart  wright  and  those  who  would  join  them  on 
the  march.  At  last,  the  war- whoop  sounded,  and  from 
the  throats  of  every  living  thing  in  the  village,  it  was 
echoed  back.  From  hidden  nooks  each  savage  brought 
to  light  a  musket  or  rifle  of  army  pattern,  and  laughed 
aloud  as  he  caressed  it. 

The  chief  and  Cartwright  led,  the  long,  dark  line 
trailing  to  the  rear,  the  prairie  brightening  with  the 
glories  of  the  night.  Evil  could  have  no  apter  illus 
tration  than  the  serpent,  writhing  horridly  like  this 
squirming  defile,  in  the  most  beautiful  garden  of  the 
earth. 

They  took  up  the  packers  on  the  path ;  on  their 
flanks  was  heard  the  jingle  of  the  spurs,  and  often  in 
the  light  of  the  stars  was  seen,  the  glitter  of  the  cruel 
knife. 


TO    THE  FORT— THE  ROUGH-RIDERS.  195 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

TO  THE  FOKT — THE  ROUGH-RIDERS. 

Beck  and  his  guide  in  a  steady  pace  were  far  afield 
on  the  route  to  the  fort ;  the  quick  dog-trot  of  the  pony 
hugging  close  to  the  horse's  easy  lope.  Away  through 
the  timid  shadows,  soft  and  feeble  in  the  young  moon's 
light,  neck  and  neck  in  silence ;  from  hollows  where 
the  crickets  chirped,  over  pearl-tipped  mounds  of 
wind-sown  grasses  ;  through  clumps  of  chapparel,  to 
open  glades  and  far-spread  levels. 

The  mustang  came  to  a  sudden  halt,  looking  back  at 
the  rider ;  the  Indian  leaped  down,  for  his  horse  was 
at  fault  where  several  trails  met  and  crossed.  Near 
by  a  few  trees  formed  an  arbor  over  a  flowing  basin ; 
a  desert  fountain,  where  the  feet  of  strolling  tribes  had 
beaten  down  the  many  paths  about  it.  Turning  aside 
the  grass,  the  Indian  pointed  to  a  Avhite  boulder,  then 
reaching  down  his  hand,  on  the  stalk  of  a  bush  he  felt 
three  deep  notches ;  he  was  sure  of  his  trail  and  gave 
the  sign  to  Beck. 

Just  then  the  familiar  words  of  a  friendly  voice,  not 
far  distant,  caught  the  ear  of  the  scout,  who  motioned 
to  his  companion  to  follow. 

"Hello,  ole  hoss,"  said  a  gruff  speaker,  "  squat  right 


196  SNAP. 

down,  yuse  white ;  know'd  yer  more'n  a  mile  off,  the 
way  yer  sot  yer  saddle ;  he's  some,  boys ;  come  jine 
us." 

Beck,  without  challenge,  had  come  upon  a  camp  of 
mountaineers,  the  best  type  of  the  semi-savage  whites  ; 
rough,  weather-worn,  stone-visagcd  men,  whose  clans, 
cut  off  from  their  kind,  were  ruthless  and  wild  ;  a 
grade  above  their  red  foe,  some  stern  and  rankling 
cause  had  made  them  what  they  were  ;  the  hate  of 
their  ancient  enemy  was  to  them  a  second  nature,  but 
like  all,  on  sea  and  land,  to  whom  she  is  the  foster- 
mother,  their  social  traits  were  kind,  unselfish ;  their 
courage  without  flaw. 

The  Indian  boy  held  back  until  one  of  the  trappers, 
catching  sight  of  his  trinkets  and  the  dress  of  his  hair, 
spoke  to  him,  in  his  own  tongue  ;  then,  almost  timidly, 
he  kept  close  to  Beck,  and  was  seated  near  him. 

The  camp  was  a  beaver  party  of  five  from  the  Platte, 
who  were  "  making  meat ;"  i.  e.,  killing  buffalo  for  a 
meat  supply  of  a  winter  quarter  in  some  more  southern 
valley.  Not  one  stood  under  six  feet  height ;  their 
garb,  the  hunter's  buckskin  outfit ;  their  faces  shaven 
clean  and  burned  to  a  reddish  bronze.  Their  squaws 
—  wives  by  consent  or  theft  —  put  on  the  pots  to 
warm  the  choice  bits  of  the  meat  for  the  strangers' 
treat ;  a  courtesy  of  their  camps  at  any  hour  of  night 
or  day. 

Each  in  his  turn  chatted  freely  in  his  own  coarse, 
but  hearty  way.  Off  on  the  grand  old  prairies  ;  scout 
ing  the  Cottonwood,  the  Arkansas,  Turkey  Creek, 


TO    THE  FORT—  THE  ROUGH-RIDERS.  197 

Pawnee-fork ;  over  the  fireless  route  of  Coon  Creek  ; 
through  a  sea  of  fat  meat  without  fuel  to  cook  it ; 
trailing  to  Bent's  fort,  to  Boiling  Spring,  across  the 
Divide  to  the  Platte ;  away  to  the  Black  Hills,  to 
camp  at  last  with  a  sound  scalp,  in  the  Sweet  Water's 
valley,  or  in  the  shadow  of  Wind  River  mountain. 

The  leader  ordered  the  guards  to  their  posts,  and 
two  of  them  drove  back  the  hobbled  mules,  and 
mounting  a  rise,  their  gaze  swept  the  prairie  as  they 
leaned  on  their  rifles  ;  two  were  left  to  keep  the  scout 
company ;  one  slept. 

The  sleeper,  whose  hair  was  flecked  with  grey,  a 
much  older  man  than  the  others,  slept  soundly. 
Stretched  on  a  buffalo-robe  with  his  feet  to  the  fire, 
he  had  dug  with  his  knife  a  drain  around  it,  and  over 
him  was  thrown  a  Navajo  blanket,  impervious  to  rain. 
A  mule,  aged  and  grizzled,  was  picketed  within  reach 
of  his  hand,  its  head  bent  down,  the  long  ears  flapping, 
the  back  arched  and  its  form  tottering  as  it  rested  and 
slept.  The  trapper  was  treading  the  trails  of  his 
dreamland  among  droves  of  "fat  cow,"  or  along 
streams  peopled  with  beaver,  no  Indian  "sign"  to  vex 
him,  and  in  near  perspective  the  sale  of  his  "pelts"  at 
six  dollars  "theplew."  Threading  the  back  trail  of 
his  memory,  through  a  hard,  hard  life,  starving  one 
day,  feasting  the  next ;  now  beset  by  whooping  fiends, 
baying  his  enemy  like  a  hunted  deer,  but  with  all  the 
stern  pluck  of  his  tribe  ;  again,  all  care  thrown  aside,  a 
welcome  guest  at  the  trading-post,  or  back  again,  as 


198  SNAP. 

the  trail  grows  fainter,  to  his  childhood's  home,  in  the 
brown  forests  of  old  Keiituck. 

Beck  and  his  guide  ate  freely,  and  then  the  pipes ; 
for  the  plainsman  smokes  whenever  he  wakes,  and  the 
smoke  of  a  pipe  is  never  seen  without  the  loose-tongued 
charm  of  a  story. 

"I  say,  Bill,  dus  yer  mind  the  time  wen  we  camped 
with  Ole  Sam  Owins  at  Independence ;  —  him  as  got 
rubbed  out  at  Sacrimenty  —  dis  hoss  disrernembers 
which  —  but  he  went  under ;  Ole  Sam  had  his  train 
along,  ready  to  hitch  up  for  Mexan  country —  twenty 
thunderin  big  Pittsburgh  wagons, —  an  how  his  Santa 
Fee  boys  took  to  ticker  —  eh,  Bill ?"  . 

f  Well,  they  did ;  an  Bill  Bent, —  his  boys  camped 
on  tother  side  the  trail,  an  they  wus  all  mountin 
men,  wagh  !  an  Bill  Williams,  an  Bill  Tharpe, —  the 
Pawnees  took  his  har  on  Pawnee-fork, —  three  Bills, 
an  them  three's  all  gone  under ;  Hatcher,  he  went  out 
that  time,  and  wasn't  Bill  Garey  long  too?  Didn't 
him  and  Chabonard  set  in  camp  for  twenty  hours  at  a 
game  of  kerds?  Them  was  Bent's  Injin  traders  up  on 
Arkansas ;  and  Bill  Bent,  them  Spaniards  made  meat 
of  him  ;  lost  his  top-knot  at  Taos.  He  war  some,  was 
Bill  Bent ;  as  good  as  ever  drove  a  trade  or  throwd  a 
buffler ;  Ole  St.  Vrain  could  knock  the  hind-sights  off 
him  though,  wen  it  come  to  shootin.  You  wTent  out 
that  time,  didn't  you?" 

"No  sir-ee,  I  went  out  along  with  Spiers,  wen  he 
lost  his  animals  on  Cinnamon ;  a  hunderd  an  forty 
mules  an  oxen  war  froze  that  night,  wagh  !  Black 


TO    THE  FOR  T  —  THE  R  0  UGH-RIDERS.  199 

Harris  was  thar,  an  be  war  the  clarndest  liar :  did  yer 
ever  hyar  what  he  told  the  landlady  down  in  Liberty  ? 

"  This  coon  hev  gone  over  a  sight,  marm,  ses  he  ;  I'se 
trapped  beaver  on  Plat te  an  Arkansaw  ;  I'se  trapped 
on  Columby,  Lewis  Fork  an  Green  River  ;  I'se  trapped, 
inarm,  on  Gran  Eiver  an  Heely,  ses  he  ;  I'se  tout  the 
Blackfoots ;  and — d  bad  Injins  them  am,  marm,  ses 
he  ;  I'se  raised  har  of  more'n  wun  Pach,  an  made  a 
Rapaho  come  afore  now,  but  scalp  my  ole  head,  marm, 
ses  he,  ef  I  ain't  seen  a  pewterfyd  forest." 

"A  what !  ses  she." 

"A  pewterfyd  forest,  ses  he ;  I  war  out  on  Black 
Hills  the  yeak  it  rained  fire,  and  thar  wus  no  cold 
doins  that  winter,  or  this  coon  wouldn't  say  so.  Why, 
the  snow  war  fifty  foot  deep,  ses  he,  an  no  meat ;  me 
an  my  ban  was  livin  on  our  mocks  ins,  leastwise  on 
par  flesh,  for  six  weeks,  ses  he.  One  day  we  crossed 
a  divide  an  got  into  peraira ;  green  trees  an  green 
leaves  on  the  trees,  an  green  grass,  an  birds  a 
singin  in  the  green  leaves,  in  February,  ses  he,  wagh  ! 
Hyar's  for  meat,  ses  I,  ses  he,  and  I  ups  ole  Ginger 
at  one  of  em  singin  birds,  an  down  it  comes  elegant ; 
its  darned  head  spinned  away,  but  it  kep  on  a  singin, 
oh,  yes,  ses  he,  and  wen  I  takes  up  the  meat  it  war 
stone  ;  we  tried  a  axe  on  a  tree,  out  comes  a  bit  of 
blade  ;  we  looks  at  the  animals,  an  thar  they  stood  a 
shakin  over  the  grass ;  I'm  dog-goned  ef  it  wasn't 
stone,  too  ;  we  takes  up  the  grass  an  it  snaps  like 
pipe-stems." 

"  La,  Mister  Harris,  ses  she,  didn't  they  smell  bad?" 


200  S.V.4P. 

"  Smell !  ses  he,  an  his  eyes  bulged  out  as  if  he  war 
a  prayin ;  h-11,  marm,  sez  he,  how  could't  weu  it  war 
friz  to  stone.  But  he's  gone  under,  too  ;  a  Vide  Poche 
Frenchman  shot  him  for  his  bacca  an  traps."* 

Beck  and  the  boy-guide,  after  a  nap,  mounted  and 
rode  away  as  day  broke  over  the  camp  of  the  trappers. 
During  the  morning  the  far-away  lodges  of  Little 
Elk's  people  were  seen  in  the  misty  distance ;  the  lad, 
nearing  his  people,  in  delight  made  known  that  his 
tribe  was  about  to  move  their  village,  and  that  the 
hunting  party  were  killing  their  food  for  a  long  jour 
ney. 

Beck  was  received  kindly,  and  he  and  his  companion 
staid  long  enough  to  give  their  horses  rest.  The  red 
skins  were  a  tine  race.  They  of  the  plains,  in  the 
wider,  freer  scope  for  the  exercise  of  their  better 
instincts,  were  wilder,  but  less  crafty.  Their  habits 
and  customs  were  in  keeping,  their  natures  broader, 
more  generous  ;  their  forms  taller,  their  muscles  more 
flexible  in  the  sunlight  life,  and  their  strides  stronger. 
They  were  horsemen. 

Their  tepees  were  all  down,  save  two,  kept  standing 
for  the  final  rites.  In  moving  about  Beck  saw  many 

*  In  the  author's  purpose  to  give  a  glimpse  at  the  types  of  life  within 
sound  of  the  whip's  snap,  this  camp  scene  has  been  condensed  and  adapted 
from  "  Life  in  the  Far  West"  —  Ruxton.  Lieutenant  Iluxton  was  an  Eng 
lish  officer  of  distinction  in  her  Majesty's  service,  who  having  spent  a  vaca 
tion  on  the  Great  Plains,  resigned  his  commission,  that  he  might  return  to  the 
camps  of  the  trappers.  The  wild  life  having  so  surpassing  a  delight  for  the 
young  soldier,  he  yielded  to  the  charm  while  confessing  a  disgust  for  its 
associtaions. 


TO    THE  FORT—  THE  ROUGH  RIDERS.          201 

Bights  to  revolt  his  humanity,  and  one  that  caused  his 
heart  to  throb. 

An  aged  patriarch,  whose  locks  were  whitened  by  a 
hundred  years,  was  set  apart  under  the  cruel  fiat  of 
"  exposing  the  aged."  Crouching  by  a  small  fire  of  a  k 
few  sticks,  a  buffalo  skin,  raised  on  crotches,  was 
stretched  -over  his  head ;  a  few  half-picked  bones,  a 
dish  of  water,  was  his  last  portion.  Without  weapons, 
the  miserable  remnant  of  existence,  too  feeble  to 
march,  was  to  be  left  to  die  alone.* 

He  also  witnessed  the  rite  of  pohk-hong  —  the  cut 
ting  of  the  flesh —self-torture.  The  ceremony  took 
place  in  a  large  circular  lodge.  Two  men  having  taken 
positions  for  the  purpose  of  inflicting  the  cruel  tests  of 
endurance,  — one  with  a  scalping-knife,  the  other  with 
a  bunch  of  splints, — the  young  devotees,  already  emaci 
ated  with  fasting,  thirsting  and  waking  for  nearly  four 
days  and  nights,  gave  themselves  up  to  the  rite.  An 
inch  or  more  of  flesh  on  each  shoulder  or  each  breast, 
was  seized  upon,  and  a  knife  thrust  through,  followed 
by  the  splint  or  skewer.  Then  cords  were  lowered 
from  the  top  of  the  lodge  by  men  placed  there  ;  these 
were  fastened  to  the  splints,  the  victim  hoisted,  while 
his  tormentors  hung  upon  the  skewers,  his  shield,  bow 
and  quiver ;  sometimes,  also  the  skull  of  a  buffalo  to 
the  lower  arm  or  leg.  All  this  was  borne  by  each  of 
the  dozen  or  more  subjects,  with  the  most  unflinching 
fortitude  ;  at  every  taunt  and  jeer  of  the  demons,  who 
seemed  to  be  devising  means  for  their  more  acute 

*  See  "  Catlin's  North  American  Indians." 


202 

agony,  the  look  on  their  faces  never  betrayed  a  sign  of 
pain.  In  this  condition  they  were  whirled  about,  and 
with  the  utmost  scrutiny  to  observe  a  tremor  or 
struggle.  There  is  no  escape  from  the  fearful  ordeal, 
until  what  they  called  "  entirely  dead  ;"  i.  e.,  swooning 
or  fainting  from  the  fearful  pain.* 

In  another  lodge  he  witnessed  the  "  Sun  Dance  ;  "  a 
peace  custom  of  this  tribe. 

Over  fifty  braves,  —  each  an  Apollo,  — painted,  and 
naked  to  the  waist,  except  a  profusion"  of  ornaments, 
with  head-dresses  of  beautiful  feathers.  Many  had 
from  fifty  to  two  hundred  pieces  cut  out  of  the  flesh  of 
their  anus  and  backs.  Men  dancing  with  two,  three 
and  four  buffalo  heads,  suspended  from  holes  cut  in  the 
flesh.  One  Indian  dragged  on  the  ground  eight  heads 
fastened  to  his  back,  and  in  the  stooping  position  he 
was  forced  to,  they  had  lacerated  or  torn  the  cuts,  to 
the  extent  of  three  inches.  Some  fell  faint  and 
exhausted.  With  screams  and  shouts  in  the  din  of  their 
wild  music  and  of  weird  songs,  there  was  a  Pande 
monium,  f 

Beck  and  the  boy  pushed  on,  and  the  latter  signed 
to  proceed  through  the  grove  they  had  entered  after  a. 
few  hours  ride  ;  emerging  from  its  shade  they  looked 
down  upon  a  valley,  and  beheld  the  fort,  a  white,  clean 
shelter,  in  the  far-off  green  expanse.  Parting  from  the 

*  Catlin,  1832. 

t  An  Army  Surgeon,  1879. 

The  same  rite  described  by  Catlin,  1832,  and  by  the  other  writer,  1879, 
shows  by  contrast  how  little  these  Indians  have  progressed  towards  civiliza 
tion  in  a  period  of  forty-two  years. 


TO   THE  FORT-  THE  ROUGH-RIDERS.  203 

lad   the  scout  rode  into  the  lowland,  and  was  soon  lost 
to  si-ht  among  the    pale  trunks  of  the  cottonwood. 
About  noon  he  got  down  under  the  walls,  and  bailed 
the   sentry.     In  answer  to  the  challenge  he  asked  to 
see  Captain  Harkness. 
"  What's  your  name  ?  " 
"John  Beck,  scout." 
"  What's  your  business?" 
«  That's  for  your  officer  ;  hurry  up." 
The  word  was  passed  to  quarters,  while  he  waited, 
holding  his  horse.     In  a  little  while  he  was  sent  for  by 
the  Captain. 

Harkness  was  born  on  the  border,  and  had 
graduated  at  West  Point ;  he  was  sent  upon  the  plains 
for  training,  and  there  made  his  mark,  being  by 
nature  adapted  to  a  soldiers  life,  with  peculiar  fitness 
for  this  service.  Standing  six  feet  two  in  his  stockings, 
of  an  iron  frame,  straight  as  an  arrow,  he  had  the  mien 
of  a  good  officer ;  nor  did  he  lack  the  manner  of  one. 
The  kidnapping  of  Mary  Cheviteau  had  reached  the 
War  Office,  and  a  very  general  complaint  from  the 
West  of  raids  upon  and  of  plots  against  lawful  trade, 
luid  been  sent  on,  in  varied  forms,  to  the  authorities. 
Altogether,  these  offences  were  too  grave  to  be  longer 
disregarded,  and  the  Captain  was  ordered  to  the  fron 
tier,  °as  one  who  would  cure  these  evils  by  his  well 
known  methods,  with  courage  and  justice.  He  was 
given  a  carte  blanche  to  recruit  and  equip  his  force,  and 
was  allowed  to  conduct  the  campaign  as  he  thought 
best.  His  orders  read  "  to  strike  hard."  The  bat- 


204  SNAP. 

talion  which  he  commanded  was  made  up  from  the 
class  who  live  in  the  sound  of  the  rifle ;  fearless  fel 
lows,  picked  for  what  they  could  do  without  being 
drilled  to  do  it ;  off  duty,  he  could  wrestle,  run  or 
shoot  with  the  best  men  of  his  troop  ;  he  never  said  "go  " 
in  a  fight,  but  always,  "Come,  boys,"  and  they  followed, 
even  unto  death. 

Beck  was  directed  to  the  Captain's  quarters,  where, 
being  seated,  in  a  moment  after,  a  round,  rich  voice 
was  heard,  and  a  heavy  tread,  as  Harkness  entered  the 
room. 

"How  are  you,  Beck?"  he  said. 

Beck  rose,  saluted,  and,  as  he  knew  he  had  met  an 
officer  of  strict  habits,  he  drew  forth  at  once  the  letter 
from  the  War  Office  and  presented  it. 

From  his  dress  the  soldier  might  have  been  taken 
for  a  ranger ;  he  wore  a  buckskin  blouse  and  leggins,. 
hickory  shirt,  a  light  felt  hat  with  shoestring  tie,  top- 
boots  and  spurs,  his  sabre,  belt  and  pistols ;  his  hair 
was  cropped  close  to  the  scalp,  and  his  fine  face  was 
improved  by  a  moustache,  the  ends  of  which  touched 
his  shoulders.  Placing  his  hat  on  the  table,  with  a 
glance  at  the  letter  he  laid  it  down. 

"Where's  your  horse,  scout?" 

"Stabled,  sir." 

"  Have  you  wet  your  whistle  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  And  stocked  your  commissary  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Bidden  hard?11 


TO   THE  FORT—  THE  ROUGH-RIDERS.  205 

"  A  good  brush." 

"  In  a  minit  you  can  rest." 

"  Don't  want  it,  sir." 

"  As  you  please." 

"  Let  me  know,  Captain,  what  you  can  do  for  me." 

"What  I  can  do?"  he  answered,  facing  the  scout; 
"well,  I'm  going  to  knock  the  spots  off  of  Cartvvright 
and  the  Spider." 

Beck  was  nonplussed. 

"I  understand,"  he  went  on,  "they'll  strike  your 
train  in  The  Wedge." 

"  So  I  reckon." 

"At  theButte." 

"  Yes,  sir  ;  that's  whar  they'll  ambush." 

"  Then  I'll  make  a  bait  of  your  train." 

"A  bait?" 

"  Leave  that  to  me.     How  many  men  have  you?  " 

The  scout  gave  the  number. 

"That'll  do;  all  armed?" 

"Yes,  sir;  all  armed." 

"  I'll  be  with  you,  to  stamp  out  this  hellish  game  of 
plunder ;  this  chief  is  a  devil  incarnate ;  all  his  life 
an  enemy,  he  has  broken  every  treaty,  swears  he'll 
never  eat  a  government  ration,  has  tortured  or  killed 
every  white  man,  ravished  every  white  woman  he  has 
caught;  he  has  fought  every  friendly  tribe,  has 
attacked  every  government  party,  sells  himself  to  do 
murder,  is  now  sold  to  slay.  Of  course,  they  made  a 
fool  of  him  in  Washington,— made  fools  of  themselves 
also, — and  he  comes  back  with  a  medal !  But  I'll 


206  SXAP. 

thrash  him,  or  my  name's  not  Bob  Harkness  !  "  His 
foot  came  down  flatly,  rattling  his  sabre. 

Beck  thought  himself  a  good  scout,  but  here  was  an 
officer  who  knew  all  the  business  he  had  come  upon  be 
fore  he  had  uttered  a  word. 

"  How'd  you  like  to  be  Sergeant  Beck?"  It  was  a 
weakness  of  the  Captain  to  ask  every  tine-looking  man 
he  met  to  join  his  company. 

"  Not  much,  sir  ;  I'm  doing  well  now." 

"  Don't  blame  you  ;  I  wanted  Jack  McQuain." 

"  Is  the  old  man  still  afoot?  " 

"  Yes,  sir ;  it  was  he  who  gave  me  the  dots." 

"How?  what?"     The  scout  was  confused. 

"Don't  you  know?  Why,  he  lay  behind  a  wall  and 
heard  all  the  bargain  between  Cartwright  and  the  Spi 
der  about  raiding  your  train  ;  then  he  rode  night  and 
day  till  he  reached  me,  gave  me  all  the  points,  and  now 
he's  off  for  the  mountains.  He's  a  lamb,  John 
Beck." 

"  That's  so  ;  he's  a  stan-by,  certain."'  The  scout  now 
felt  at  ease. 

ff  Where's  your  train  ?  " 

"I  reckon,  if  it  has  kep  up  a  steady  pull,  it's  in  a 
bee-line  south  of  this." 

"  At  daylight  I'll  call  to  saddle." 

"  We  can  reach  my  boys  by  midnight." 

"  My  boys  are  brushing  up ;  come  and  have  a  look 
at  them." 

Captain  Harkness  led  the  way  to  the  parade-ground. 
In  groups  of  a  dozen  or  less,  his  men  were  at  work. 


TO    THE   FORT— THE   ROUGH-RIDERS.  207 

Some  of  them  burnished  their  sabres  ;  one  took  apart 
his  pistol;  another  mended  his  bridle,  others  their 
saddles.  They  were  a  hardy  set  of  nomads,  dressed 
like  their  chief,  and  each  raised  his  hand  to  his  hat  as 
he  passed,  in  a  fraternal  way,  with  a  dare-devil  smile. 
Their  mounts  were  tied  near  by,  and  were  "  in  good 
keep  "  ;  each  horse,  like  each  rider,  had  some  striking 
trait  or  token,  and  they  were  not  matched  in  size  or 
color. 

"There,  scout,  are  my  pets,"  said  the  Captain, 
pointing  to  two  small  brass  howitzers ;  "  I  can  take 
them  along,  the  road  is  good." 

"I  reckon  they'll  talk." 

"  Yes  ;  I  call  them  Law  and  Order." 

Having  looked  over  the  camp  and  talked  with  the 
men,  Beck,  for  the  rest  of  the  day,  slept  off  the  fatigue 
of  his  ride. 

With  the  first  bright  lines  of  the  dawn,  the  bugle's 
note  rang  out  loud  and  clear,  and  Captain  Harkness, 
riding  a  bay  stallion,  ordered  the  mount. 

"Beck,"  he  called  out,  "ride  ahead,  the  road  is  di 
rect  ;  strike  your  train,  then  report  to  me." 

The  scout  put  spurs  to  his  horse  and  rode  all  day, 
with  few  stops ;  in  the  night  he  arrived  at  the  foot  of 
the  ridge,  and  dashing  up  to  its  level  he  saw  to  the 
rear  of  his  halting  place  the  twinkling  camp-fires  of 
the  train.  Captain  Harkness  and  his  men  had  followed 
closely.  Beck  turned,  made  up  to  them,  riding  back 
in  a  run. 

"  I'll  keep  you  company  this  side  of  the  range,  till 


208  SNAP. 

we  reach  the  Butte  in  the  Wedge ;  now,  Beck,  keep 
straight  on  with  your  train  till  I  say  halt,"  and  Beck, 
anxious  to  quiet  every  fear  or  doubt,  rode  off  for  his 
camp,  at  full  leap. 

"Who  goes   there!"   challenged   the   teamster   on 
guard. 

"  Beck,"  was  the  answer  ;  "  how's  all  ?  " 
"  All's  well." 

Mrs.  Garrulson  awoke  with  a  start. 
"  What's  up  !  "  she  screamed  ;    "  is  that  you,  John 
Beck,  cavortin  aroun  this  time  o'  ni°-ht?'* 


"STRUCK  HARD"  —  "  WIPED    OUT."  209 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

"  STRUCK   HARD  " "  WIPED    OUT." 

In  the  morning  before  the*"  yoke  up,"  every  man  was 
armed  to  the  teeth ;  seeing  which,  Mrs.  Garrulson,  in 
her  best  vein,  said  : 

"  Things  begin  to  look  bilious." 

The  train  had  camped  on  the  left  flank  of  "The 
Wedge,"  —  a  name  given  to  the  land  lying  between  the 
two  lines  of  hills  or  ridges,  —  and  from  the  view  at 
this  point  they  seemed,  perspectively,  to  close  in  as 
they  descended  to  the  river.  This  was  their  confor 
mation,  for  the  lines  were  not  parallel,  but  gradually 
neared  to  a  narrow  passage,  at  the  exit.  The  place 
looked  as  though  a  mountain  had  been  riven  there, 
and  the  small  plateau  where  they  dragged  along,  like  a 
wedge  between  the  divided  parts ;  by  some  it  was 
called  "  The  Spear-point."  A  sugar-loaf  hill  rose  from 
the  ridge  on  the  right,  topped  by  a  few  trees,  and  bore 
the  landmark  title  of  Butte.  Just  opposite,  on  the 
left  and  lower  range,  across  the  road,  was  a  similar 
rise  of  less  height,  but  of  a  more  rugged  formation. 
Its  crest  was  basin-shaped,  verged  with  rocks  and 
brambles.  The  ascent  to  the  base  of  the  bowl  was 
easy,  but  from  thence,  for  a  few  feet,  to  the  rim,  pre 
cipitous.  Herds  of  bison,  with  hoof  and  horn,  scoop 
ing  the  saline  earth,  had  at  some  time  made  "a  lick" 


210  SNAP. 

there,  and  the  shrubbery  not  destroyed  grew  on  its 
skirt.  It  was  a  ready-made  rifle-pit.  The  hills  fell 
away  to  the  rear  into  the  valleys.  The  one  to  the 
north  overlooked  the  level  gravel  road  to  the  fort,  that 
on  the  south' the  highway  travelled  by  Cruz  and  Cart- 
wright. 

The    pirates    and   the   Spiders    kept   the   trail  only 
at   night,    but    with    a    forced    march    in     breathless 
haste.     The  Indians  sprang  from  sleep,  retouched  the 
war-paint,  ground  their  arrow-points,  clicked  the  trig 
ger,  flashed  the   knife ;    a  mania  for  scalps  and  pelf 
crazed  them.     The  chief  rode  to  the  front,  motioned, 
and    they   followed ;    a  long   trail,    with   few   stops, 
brought  them  in  sight  of  the  Butte  on  the  night  that 
the  scout  rejoined  his  train.     In  the  moonlight  Cart, 
wright  and  the  savage  conferred  by  signs.     After  the 
latter  had  pointed  often  to  the  peak,  he  got  down, 
turned  his  band  to  the  woods  near  by,  and  drew  in  the 
sand  with  his  finger  a  deep,  rough  sketch  of  his  plan  of 
attack.    -Now  choosing  the  youngest,  a  strong-limbed, 
ill-visaged   heathen,  with  the  scars  of  torture   on  his 
breast  and  blood-signs  on  his  face,  he  sent  him  oft' as  a 
scout,  to  watch  the  whites.      Within  gunshot  of  their 
camp's  patrol,  this   young,  lithe   savnge    lay  until  the 
dawn;  he  saw  the  cattle  yoked,  he   heard  the  snap  o' 
the  whip  in  the  start;  still  staring  hard,  he   saw  the 
train   enter  "  The  AVedgc."     Crawling  from   brush  to 
bush  and  hillock,  the  runner  at  last   rose   to  his  feet, 
speeding  back  to  his  chief.     AVith  a  frown  he  was  sent 
off  again,  and  on  the  top  of  the  hill  he  stretched  him- 


"  S TR UCK  HARD "  —  "  WIPED    OUT."  211 

self  at  full  length,  glaring  down  on  the  train,  as  a 
spider  watches  a  fly. 

Behind  the  northern  rise,  Captain  Harkness  and  his 
troopers  rode  at  will.  Now  and  then  he  wheeled  in  his 
saddle,  spoke  to  "his  boys,"  rode  on,  whistled,  patted 
his  horse,  fanned  himself  with  his  hat,  renewed  his 
tobacco. 

"Ain't  you  gwyne  to  let  us  out,  Cappin?  "  asked  the 
sergeant. 

"  Well,  I  won't  get  a  rope  to  hold  you  back  with  ; 
but  remember,  now,  the  Spider  fights  like  a  catamount ; 
he  shows  no  quarter." 

"  He'*  no  wus  than  all  the  varmints,"  spoke  up  a 
dare-devil  on  the  flank. 

"  Halt ! "  The  troop  drew  up  to  their  leader. 
"  Look  here.  The  Spider  is  a  hornet,  —  he's  a  —  can 
nibal ;  do  you  know  that?  If  one  of  you  fellows  are 
taken  alive,  you'll  be  roasted  like  a  chestnut,  roasted 
at  a  slow  fire,  roasted  by  inches.  Do  you  hear  me?  " 

"  That's  all  right,  Cappin  ;  don't  they  have  to  take 
us  fust?"  put  in  a  gruff  voice. 

"  Forward  !  "  He  had  badgered  them  with  a  word 
to  raise  the  pulse. 

"  It'll  be  a  dash,  with  sabre  and  yell,"  said  one. 

"A  wipe-out." 

"Tom,"  said  another  to  his  file,  in  a  whisper,  "he 
whistles  all  the  time." 

"Who?" 

"Epylettes." 

"  All  the  wus  for  the  redskins." 


212  SNAP. 

"Yes,"  said  a  third,  "wen  he's  done  with  em,  a 
train  ken  pass  along  this  yer  road  and  sleep  o'  nights 
without  a  guard." 

Whack  and  Beck  rode  side  by  side  in  the  sweltering 
heat ;  the  beasts  tugged  hard  at  their  burdens. 

"Mighty  close  quarters,  scout." 

"  So  Cartwright  thinks,  I  reckon." 

"Will  they  strike  us,  certain?" 

"  Certain  ;   they're  over  in  the  woods  yonder,  now." 

"This  is  what  a  feller  might  call  the  jaws  of 
death." 

"  Yes  ;  for  the  teeth  are  sharpened." 

"How?" 

"  We'll  chaw  em  up." 

"  Isn't  there  another  road  ?  " 

"  No,  Whack,  and  Cartwright  knew  it ;  knew  jus 
whar  to  strike ;  but  he's  fooled. 

"  Thought  he'd  ketch  us  in  a  trap  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"Looks  like  he  had  us,  scout." 

"I'm  ahead  of  him  though,  an  have  set  a  trap  for 
him ;  the  train  is  a  bait." 

"How's  that?" 

"Wait  an  see  ;  keep  the  men  in  good  trim,  let  em 
move  slow  ;  I  am  off  again,"  he  said,  as  he  rode  on. 

Mrs,  Garrulson  had  fallen  in  with  Legs,  and  careless 
of  the  rite  danger,  walked  with  him  at  his  team. 

"What  you  thinkin  bout,  Illynys?"  she  asked. 

"Bout  the  tight," 

"What  sorter  fight,  boy?" 


"  S  TR  UCK  HARD  "  —  "  WIPED    O  £7  TV'  213 

"  Why,  don't  yer  know  wese  gwyne  ter  hev  a  scrim 
mage  afore  we  get  outer  this,  granny?" 

"  No  ;  —  may  I  never  —  who  wants  ter  fight  ?  " 

"Injins." 

"Thet's  so,  es't?  "  the  old  woman  looked  thoughtful. 

"Never  mine,  thar  ain't  a  man  that'll  let  a  har  of 
yourn  be  teched." 

"  My  har  ;  —  why,  bless  you,  sonny,  I  wur  a  thinkin 
of  yourn.  Whar  dus  yer  mother  live  ?  " 

"  Up  yanner ;  "  the  lad  said,  pointing  to  the  bright 
blue  sky. 

"  Dead  ?     An  yer  farther  ?  " 

"  Dead  too  ;  they  moved  out  to  the  Meesuree  an  the 
Injins  slayed  em,  granny,  long  ago." 

"Too  bad,  son,  sho  ;  I  hed  kin  of  mine  scelped  too. 
An  wese  gwyne  ter  hev  a  fight  ?  " 

"Yes,  an  afore  it's  over  I'll  get  even." 

"Drot  my  shoestrings,  boy,  I'll  stan  by  you,"  she 
answered  quickly,  slapping  him  on  the  back. 

"  An  see  hyar,  granny  ;   spose  I'se  knocked  over  ?  " 

"  I'll  look  arter  you,  son  ;  but  yer  ain't  gwyne  to  be 
with  me  ahind  you." 

The  report  of  a  rifle  was  heard,  which  cut  short  their 
talk.  As  Beck  rode  by,  Whack  called  to  him  : 

"What's  up?" 

"  A  chance  shot ;  "  he  rode  on  over  the  northern 
ridge  ;  as  he  crossed  the  hill,  Captain  Harkness  came 
towards  him. 

"I  heard  your  shot,  Beck." 

"  I  flushed  up  a  Spider,  Captain." 


214  SNAP. 

"Kill  him?" 

"  No." 

"  What  was  he  ?  " 

"  Spy  in  war-paint ;  I  was  huntin  for  a  sign  all  day, 
and  found  it." 

"  How  near  are  they,  Beck  ?  " 
'In  the  woods  below;  they'll  strike  us  to-night." 
"Pull  up  in  a  trot  to  the  foot  of  the  Butte ;  unyoke 
and  drive  your  stock  over  here." 

Beck  rode  back  to  his  train;  at  sundown  they 
camped  between  the  hills. 

The  night,  midnight  and  the  small  hours  were  of  the 
past,  and  the  scout  paced  his  rounds  on  guard ;  he 
held  his  rifle  ready  with  his  finger  on  the  trigger. 
Not  a  whisper  was  heard  behind  the  wagons ;  not  even 
a  beetle  droned  in  the  still,  damp  air.  The  men  held 
their  breath,  and  every  beat  of  the  heart  could  be 
counted  in  the  soundless  pause. 

"Who's  that?"  cried  Beck  sharply,  brought  to  a 
sudden  halt  by  an  apparition,  as  his  eye  ranged  the 
barrel  of  his  gun. 

The  form  of  the  wanderer  crept  slowly  out  of  the 
wet,  dark  shadows ;  more  distraught  than  ever,  when 
near  enough  he  seized  the  scout's  hand  : 

"They're  coming,"  he  said,  in  abject  terror. 

"Who?"  asked  the  scout. 

"  Cartwright  and  the  Spiders." 

"Where?" 

"Yonder,  behind  the  hill;"  pointing  his  long,  bony 
finger;  "they're  creeping  on  you  like  a  thousand 


"  STRUCK  HARD"  —  "  WIPED  OUT."      215 

snakes;  hissing,  too,  the  vipers;  murder,  death; 
they're  coming,  man  ;  they're  coming." 

"Get  in,  then,  out  of  sight;"  and  Beck  forced  the 
poor  wretch  behind  the  inclosure. 

A  feature  of  the  wild  man's  craze,  was  his  ever- 
changeful  mode  of  life,  and  how  he  lived  was  a  mystery 
to  many.  He  was  an  ubiquis  springing  out  of  the  earth 
to  help  those  friendly  to  him,  or  to  foil  their  enemies. 
He  was  fed  by  passing  trains  or  parties  ;  with  these  he 
journeyed  hither  and  thither,  with  no  fixed  course  or 
destiny,  retracing  his  route  as  the  mood  seized  him ; 
taken  up  again  to  re-pass ;  hence  his  appearance  in 
many  places.  The  Indian  looked  upon  him  with  awe, 
but  without  pity. 

The  scout  called  to  Whack  to  stand  guard  until  he 
came  back. 

"The  devils,"  he  said,  "  are  on  us,  and  they'll  strike 
before  daylight." 

He  crawled  up  the  hillside  and  disappeared  in  the 
foliage ;  here  he  came  upon  Captain  Harkness  stand 
ing  in  the  shadow  of  a  tree,  sighting  the  opposite 
ridge. 

"They're  over  yonder,  Captain,"  he  said. 

"  I  know  it,"  was  the  quiet  reply,  "  and  they'll  stay 
there,  Beck." 

"Stay  there?" 

"  Yes ;  not  one  shall  get  away,  if  I  can  help  it." 

"What's  going  to  be  the  signal?  " 

"They'll  open  fire;  fire  back  in  their  teeth,  every 
man,  and  when  these  pets  "  —  he  went  on,  pointing  to 


216  SNAP. 

his  howitzers   masked  behind  the  brush— "stop  talk 
ing  " 

"What  then?" 

"  Charge  that  ridge  with  your  men." 
"When  your  pets  stop  barking,  then?" 
"Yes,    sir;    join   your   train,    the    ball's   going   to 
open." 

In  the  camp  the  men  were  put  to  work  upon  a  ruse 
to  draw  the  fire,  and  to  foil  the  foe.  Blankets  were 
spread,  on  the  slope,  and  under  them  bolts  of  tent- 
cloth,  with  here  and  there  a  teamster's  hat ;  a  good 
sham  of  men  asleep.  An  inside  breastwork  of  bales, 
covering  the  running-gear  of  the  front  wagons,  con 
cealed  their  movements. 

It  was  midnight  when  the  chief  signed  to  his  band 
to  move.  Spread  out  singly,  a  scattered  horde,  they 
began  the  ascent  like  crouching  tigers,  lurking  and 
peering  above  the  grass.  On  the  flank,  as  skirmishers, 
Cart wright  and  Cruz  led  their  horses. 

In  the  ambush  with  his  braves  strung  along  its  outer 
rim  lying  low,  the  Spider  looked  upon  the  camp  of 
the  teamsters,  in  vexed  surprise.  He  stared  fixedly 
at  the  Butte,  opposite,  as  it  frowned  down  on  his 
meaner  site,  and  was  maddened  by  a  mistake  that 
mocked  him.  In  rage  he  beckoned  to  the  theives ; 
they  came  to  him  to  be  told  that  he  and  his  tribe  must 
move  to  the  other  range.  He  sent  them  off  to  feel 
the  way  for  a  change  of  ambush,  and  from  thence  he 
would  spring  down  upon  the  sleepers  and  destroy 
them. 


"  S  TR  UCK  HARD  "  —  "  WIPED    OUT."  217 

Beck  drilled  his  men  in  whispers ;  as  soon  as  the 
savages  opened  fire  they  were  to  fire  back  ;  when  he  gave 
the  command  to  charge,  they  were  to  leap  the  wagons, 
form  line,  follow  him  and  fire  advancing.  Whack,  for 
the  first  time  was  to  see  a  frontier  fight,  the  first  les 
son  which  the  Colonel  thought  essential  to  his  success 
in  life  ;  young,  hopeful,  the  youth  stood  firm  and  gave 
his  orders  calmly. 

"Mrs.  Garrulson,"  he  said  to  the  good  woman  who 
was  making  bandages  in  an  exposed  corner,  "get  be 
hind  cover,  you're  in  danger  there." 

She  turned  upon  him  in  wrathful  haste  : 

"Jjo  yer  think  I'm  a  coward,  boy;  thar's  grit  I  tell 
yer  in  the  ole  bones  yit,  an  I'll  stan  by  the  boys  tell 
the  last  wun  draps." 

If  the  men  had  dared  so  rash  a  thing,  they  would 
have  cheered  her.  She  got  up,  slung  a  powder-horn 
over  one  shoulder,  a  cartridge-box  over  the  other,  and 
took  her  stand,  from  which  no  entreaty  could  move 
her. 

The  chief  strode  madly  in  the  rear  of  his  crouching 
band ;  now  and  then  he  leaped  to  the  front  to  look 
forth,  and  at  last,  as  he  looked,  day  broke  in  one  broad 
gleam.  The  savage  with  a  keen,  ringing  shriek  raised 
his  tomahawk.  Beck  fired  on  the  instant ;  his  rifle's 
ball  clove  the  Indian's  scalp-tuft. 

"Great  Scott,"  said  Sandy  in  a  low  tone,  "did  yees 
see  the  feathers  fly." 

Just  then  there  was  a  blaze  of  light  alono-  the   rin<3r 

o  o  & 

of  the  pit;    the  guns  of  the  painted  devils,  with  a 


218  SNAP. 

sharp,  quick  rattle,    sent  a  shower  of  balls    into  the 
camp. 

"  Steady  ;  "  cautioned  Whack,  showing  his  mettle. 

"  All  ready  !  —  fire  !  "  cried  the  scout ;  the  rifles  of 
the  teamsters  answered. 

"  Give  em  goss,"  cried  the  old  woman,  taking  up  a 
piece  to  reload  it. 

The  chief  saw  at  a  glance  that  he  was  foiled  by  a 
vigilant  foe,  and  blind  with  fury  held  to  the  fight, 
watching  his  chance  to  spring  from  cover.  The  firing 
now  became  general,  and  in  the  midst  of  it  granny 
stood  by  Legs  loading  his  weapon  ;  he  grasped  the 
gun,  aimed,  fired  and  returned  it  to  receive  another; 
she  never  flinched,  but  stood  in  her  place  the  picture 
of  frontier  pluck;  her  face  begrimed,  her  hands  and 
arms  blackened. 

"  Goshens,"  she  exclaimed,  "the  darned  thing's  hot, 
sonny  ;  won't  it  bust  ?  ' 

The  redskins  sprung  a  flight  of  arrows. 

"Saving  powder,"  said  Beck,  "the  devils  will  stand 
to  it  and  fight  it  out ; "  he  had  listened  long  for  the 
hill-top  signal. 

While  he  spoke  the  howitzers  opened  with  whistling 
grape,  and  the  men  stared  at  each  other  in  wonder, 
for  Beck  had  kept  from  them  the  knowledge  of  a  troop 
near  at  hand,  that  their  own  courage  might  be  fresh 
and  warm. 

"  It's  all  right  boys  ;  "  then  in  a  sturdy  voice  he  gave 
the  command,  —  "  Forward  !  " 

They  leaped  the  wagons  with  aloud,  Western  shout, 


"  S  TR  UCK  HARD  "  —  "  WIPED    0  UT."  2  1 9 

forming  line ;  Beck  on  the  right,  Whack  on  the  left, 
they  advanced  firing  and  loading  in  the  face  of  the 
Spiders.  The  Indians  leaped  to  the  rocky  parapet, 
fired  and  fell  back,  and  the  yell  of  the  chief  betokened 
that  the  parting  shot  had  been  given  before  he  drew  off 
his  band,  in  flight. 

All  at  once,  yells  like  the  rally-cries  of  the  trappers, 
came  from  behind  the  ambuscade ;  a  sound  of  many 
voices  loud  in  the  fiery  tones  of  strife,  coming  nearer 
and  mingling  with  the  babel  of  the  affrighted  savages. 
The  scout  cheered ;  the  men  took  up  the  battle-note 
of  their  leader,  crowding  close  to  his  manly  form ; 
now  was  heard  the  jingle  of  scabbards,  the  snap  of 
pistols,  the  snort  of  horses,  and  above  the  din,  a  voice 
louder  than  all  rang  out : 

"  Draw  sabres  ! "  it  said ;  Bob  Harkness  was  on 
hand. 

John  Beck  heard  it,  and  all  the  fervor  of  his  nature, 
long  pent  up,  burst  forth  in  an  answering  shout ;  he 
scaled  the  barrier  with  his  men,  and  joined  the  venge 
ful  tumult. 

Whack,  at  the  left,  was  the  last  to  come  into  the  pit 
with  his  squad ;  they  climbed  the  rough,  sheer  rock- 
front.  The  chief,  surrounded,  fought  like  a  wild  beast 
at  bay ;  and,  maddened,  he  furiously  fought  on. 
Clubbing  his  rifle  as  the  last  of  his  band  fell  about 
him,  he  sprang  with  a  bound  clear  of  the  victors. 
Whack,  who  had  just  then  dragged  himself  over  the 
basin's  rim  as  the  savage  planted  his  foot  on  the  rock, 
glanced  aside  and  caught  the  gleam  of  the  upraised 


220  SNAP. 

rifle,  swung  to  brain  him  where  he  lay.  Pistol  in 
hand,  he  fired  without  aim,  but  as  the  smoke  raised, 
the  car-piercing  death-scream  of  the  Spider  was  heard 
over  the  cliff,  where  he  fell. 

Harkness  slapped  his  thigh  at  the  sight. 

"  Grit,  be  gad,"  he  said,  aloud. 

The  savages  in  setting  a  trap  had  entrapped  them 
selves  in  the  meshes  of  a  fearful  slaughter.  While  a 
few  fired  the  howitzers,  the  Captain  led  his  men 
down  the  Butte  on  the  river  side,  through  the  brush 
to  the  rear  of  the  Indians,  and  charged  to  their  ambus 
cade  as  Beck  advanced  in  front. 

"Call  your  roll,  scout,  and  count  the  cost,"  said  the 
Captain. 

On  the  hillside,  as  the  teamsters  drew  back  from 
the  bloody  scene,  they  came  upon  the  slain  and 
wounded.  The  Spiders,  assailed  front  and  rear, 
hemmed  in,  had  shot  wildly  ;  a  score  of  trainmen  had 
been  hurt,  and  at  the  foot  of  the  hill,  one  lay  still  in 
death. 

"I  seed  him  fall,  boys,"  said  the  old  woman  between 
sobs,  in  whose  lap  the  head  of  the  dead  youth  lay ; 
"all  the  I nj ins  in  creation  could'nt  aheld  me  back;" 
she  leaned  down  and  kissed  the  brow  of  the  orphan 
and  her  tears  fell,  a  full,  sweet  flow  of  pity,  as 
pure  as  when  the  angels  weep  ;  the  men  were 
touched  more  at  her  sorrow  than  by  the  loss  of 
their  comrade,  though  he  had  been  the  lead  in  the 
whip's  snap,  in  the  rifle's  crack.  Poor  Legs ;  he  lay 
as  one  sleeping  calmly,  his  long,  brown  hair  on  his 


"  S  TR  UCK  PI  A  RD  "  —  "  WIPED    OUT?*  221 

shoulders.  They  took  him  up  with  friendly  words, 
and  buried  him  with  care,  and  raising  a  rude  stone- 
mound,  they  left  him  alone  on  the  wild. 

"  I  struck  hard,  scout,"  said  Harkness. 

"  Well,  it's  a  mercy  ;  but  has  Cartwright  got  off?  " 

"  Yes,  like  a  thief." 

"It's  bad,  bad  if  he  lives." 

"Yes,  Beck,  the  breathing  devil  who  lurks  behind 
the  savage  urging  him  on,  still  lives ;  he  always 
escapes  the  sword  and  the  law." 

The  pirate  and  Mexican  had  taken  a  circuit  of  the 
ridge,  coming  up  in  the  rear  of  the  Butte  ;  here  they 
had  tied  their  horses  and  had  crawled  up  the  hill. 
Cruz,  the  more  wily  villain  ahead,  looked  in  upon 
the  troopers,  from  behind  a  tangled  growth.  The 
sight  stunned  him ;  quickly,  with  his  finger  on  his 
lip,  he  motioned  to  Cartwright  behind  him.  The 
two  stood  dismayed,  as  out  of  a  riven  cloud  a 
beam  of  the  freed  moon  played  upon  the  burnished 
butts  of  the  cannon,  upon  the  sabre-hilts  of  the 
soldiers  holding  their  horses ;  they  saw  the  giant 
form  of  their  captain  and  the  wave  of  his  hand ;  they 
saw  the  men  mount,  wheel,  ride  off. 

"The  devil;"  whispered  the  copper-colored  cow 
ard,  as  they  both  crouched  down.  They  sneaked  to 
their  horses  and  mounted,  for  the  pirate  saw  and 
understood  that  the  Spiders  were  doomed.  The 
Mexican  eyed  him. 

"  Vamo?"  he  asked  timidly. 

"  Wayno  ;  "  answered  Bill. 


222  SNAP. 

«  B'wen." 

The  scoundrels,  in  a  hard  gallop,  struck  out  for  the 
camp  of  the  packers;  taking  up  their  train,  they  sped 
away  out  of  danger  leaving  the  Indians  to  their  fate. 
A  fate  sure  as  death  followed  them. 

The  wounded  were  carod  for  and  the  teams  moved 
on,  crossing  the  river.  At  the  ford  Harkness  turned 
off  with  his  troop  for  the  fort. 

On  looking  back  at  the  rifle-pit,  Beck  saw  the  dry 
leaves  in  flames,  and  amid  the  smoke  the  wild  man 
crazily  disporting.  He  had  found  a  dragoon's  pistol, 
loaded,  and  hiding  it  under  his  rags,  he  fled  with  his 
prize. 


REBUKED  BUT  NOT  REBUFFED.  223 


CHAPTER  XV. 

REBUKED  BUT  NOT  REBUFFED. 

AT  the  fort  the  wounded  were  speedily  cared  for, 
and  Beck,  having  unloaded  his  train,  started  on  the 
return  trip.  When  John  and  Melinda  came  together 
the  camp  laughed,  but  the  good  old  soul  was  far 
above  the  jest ;  the  wifely  care  which  for  many  years 
hoarded  her  little  store  in  some  nook  of  the  lonely 
cabin,  the  sterling  trait  which  upheld  her  to  bear 
through  strife  the  homely  gift  to  her  spouse,  far  away 
in  the  grim  solitude,  stamps  her  sense  of  duty  as 
something  better  than  impulse,  something  deeper  than 
emotion.  Of  such  qualities  are  heroes  made,  and  none 
bettor  have  given  fame  and  ennobled  a  race. 

Fairly  under  way,  homeward  bound,  Whack  turned 
to  Beck  for  leave  to  ride  on,  that  he  might  free  him 
self  of  the  drag  of  the  train  and  the  creak  of  the 

o 

wheels. 

"  Mind  your  eye,"  said  his  cautious  leader,  "  keep 
the  road  and  open  country  ;  if  thar's  Spiders  in  the 
bush  they'll  spot  you,  boy." 

Whack  rode  on  for  hours  a  heedless  truant ;  he 
forded  the  river  and  spurred  away  to  the  Butte,  that  he 
might  look  in  upon  the  rifle-pit  or  over  the  cliff  where 
the  savage  fell. 


224  SNAP. 

A  few  of  the  Spiders  had  escaped  in  the  battle's  smoke 
to  hide  from  its  rash  and  fearful  vengeance.  They 
had  lain  in  ambush  for  hours  to  dress  their  wounds,  or 
to  chant  at  times  their  death-songs  over  the  slain. 
As  they  lay  there  they  heard  the  tramp  of  a  rider's 
horse,  and  nearer  and  nearer  it  came  upon  them 
skulking,  as  closer  they  crouched  to  spring  Whack 
rode  round  the  rocky  point  on  the  hillside  ;  his  mount 
shied,  when,  with  yells,  they  seized  his  bridle  and 
dragged  him  from  his  seat.  Before  he  could  fairly 
realize  his  danger,  they  had  bound  him  hand  and  foot 
to  set  about  the  work  of  his  torture,  with  devilish 
devices  and  with  cruel  haste.  He  was  stripped  to  the 
waist ;  they  singed  the  quivering  flesh  with  hot 
arrow-points,  scourged  him  with  bow-string  and  thorn- 
brush,  then  bending  a  sapling  with  their  combined 
weight,  they  fastened  his  feet  thereto,  and  let  the  tree 
spring  back.  His  head  hanging  down,  and  his  body 
within  reach,  they  stung  and  bruised  it  with  a  hundred 
blows.  The  strain  on  each  young,  strong  fibre — a 
racking,  acute  tension  as  if  one  and  all  would  snap  — 
knotted  the  pain-wrought  muscles,  Moments  were 
told  off  in  long  flights  of  agony  ;  he  panted  for  breath, 
the  veins  swelled  to  bursting,  the  foam  stood  on  his 
lips  and  his  eyes  grew  dim.  One  last,  fainting  look 
into  the  upper  depths,  like  one  sinking  in  the  waves 
deeper,  deeper. 

"  Get  back,  back,  you  painted  hell-cats,"  screamed 
a  voice,  and  the  feeble  sight  of  Whack  saw  the  wild 
man  rushing  to  his  rescue,  club  in  hand,  with  which  he 


REBUKED  BUT  NOT  REBUFFED.  225 

struck   down   savage   after   savage.     Again  he  heard 
another,  manlier  voice. 

"  Stand  aside,"  it  said,  and  the  sharp  crack  of  the 
rifle  was  heard  as  he  swooned. 

Beck  had  followed  Whack,  giving  his  horse  free  rein 
to  seek  him  out,  and  he  came  upon  the  scene  as  the 
wanderer  struck  down  his  tormentors.  He  cut  the 
cords,  taking  up  the  body  in  his  arms,  and  he  bore  it 
away  to  a  spring. 

Looking  about  for  the  wild  man,  he  was  seen  far  off, 
his  arms  held  high  in  the  flurry  of  madness. 

When  the  train  came  up  Whack  was  put  to  bed  in  a 
covered  wagon ;  his  wounds  were  many  and  sore,  and 
long  weeks  would  come  of  restless  fever  before  he 
could  again  scour  the  plain. 

The  book  Mary  gave  the  scout  was  a  small  copy  of 
the  Bible  she  had  taken  from  the  shelf,  with  the  marker 
between  the  leaves.  It  was  her  law  of  the  household, 
that  it  should  be  read  in  the  long  hours  of  a  winter's 
evening.  So  little  else  in  print  ever  found  its  way  to 
the  frontier  cabin,  the  lessons  of  its  text  had  given 
strength  to  many  manly  hearts.  In  camp,  a  few  days 
after  Whack's  adventure,  the  scout  drew  forth  the  little 
volume  as  he  sat  alone  at  rest.  The  marked  page  was 
spread  before  him,  and  the  words  which  the  marker 
pointed  to  were  these  : 

rf  And  thy  people  .  .  .  .  "  the  trite  lines  in  the  old 
Scriptures. 

Beck  was  startled.  He  drew  back  as  though  a  blow 
had  been  aimed  at  him,  but  he  did  not  suspect  Mary 


226  SNAP. 

of  design,  for  she  had  not,  in  truth,  looked  at  the  page, 
but  still  the  words  stared  him  in  the  face  boldly.  Nor 
was  he  tempted  to  peruse  them  again,  for  they  troubled 
him,  and  he  closed  the  tell-tale  chapter,  hid  the  book 
in  his  blouse  and  rose  with  a  sigh. 

Whack's  was  a  fine  face,  the  more  so  as  he  lay  in  his 
wagon-tent  half  asleep.  The  tan  of  his  cheeks  shaded 
the  glow  of  health,  and  the  rich  brown  hair  in  waves 
lay  on  the  white  roll  under  his  head  ;  the  repose  of  the 
young,  manly  features  was  broken  by  a  smile  at  some 
fancy  of  his  thoughts  ;  the  smile  enriched  the  picture. 
While  with  a  lazy  content  he  felt  the  return  of  strength, 
on  the  rear-porch  at  the  home  Mary  was  seated  with 
Lu.  She  turned  once  from  her  sewing,  to  glance  at  the 
lovely  girl  sitting  near  her,  as  a  stray  beam  stole  in  to 
alight  on  her  golden  braids. 

At  dawn  the  train  rolled  out,  taking  a  cut-off  to 
reach  the  Big  Backbone,  and  at  noon  on  the  next  day 
Beck  called  a  halt. 

"Whack,  do  you  know  this  yer  spot?"  he  said,  as 
he  raised  the  wagon  cover. 

"Yes." 

"  Look  down  in  the  valley  at  the  crib." 

"  I  see  the  same  old  landmarks." 

"  Do  you  see  smoke  ?  " 

"No;  do  you?" 

"  Thar's  a  way  to  find  out  all  I  want  to  know." 

"How?"      - 

"  I'm  going  to  see." 

He   rode   off  just   as  once  before   he  had  taken  a 


REBUKED  BUT  NOT  REBUFFED.  227 

sudden  flight ;  as  before,  he  drew  up  near  the  pirates' 
camp,  and  tying  his  mount,  he  began  again  a  search  cf 
the  grotto.     He  was  about  to  give  it  up,  when  his  eye 
caught  sight  of  a  pair  of  spurs  hanging  on  the  door 
frame,  and  at  last  he  saw   a   pack-saddle.     Still  not 
satisfied,  grasping  his  rifle  he  ventured  nearer ;  as  no 
sound  came  to  his  ears,  he  went  on  until  he  stood  in 
the    door   of    the    cabin.     He    sprang    back,    with    a 
blanched  face,  and  covered  his  eyes  with  his  hands. 
On  the  floor  within  lay  the  dead  bodies  of  the  packers, 
each  man  slain  by  a  stab  in  the  darkness  of  a  night 
attack.     About  the  door  were  signs  of  a  hard-fought, 
hand-to-hand  fight,  and  Beck  would  have  turned  away 
in  haste,  but  he  must  know  if  Cartwright  was  one  of 
the  slain.     This  done,  and  assured  that  the  thief  had 
escaped,  he  strode  out  of  the  loathsome  place.     As  he 
did  so  his  foot  struck  a  shining  object ;   he  picked  it 
up,  to  find  it  a  blood-smeared  knife  ;  on  the  handle 
rudely  cut,  was  the  name  :  FEKATI  !     Beck  leaped  into 
his  saddle,  joined  his   train,  and  "  rolled  out."     Cart- 
wright  was  still  at  large  and  he  rode  far  away  from 
the  trail,   getting  down  to   search  for  foot-prints,  and 
his  search  was  not  in  vain. 

Jumper  had  his  own  way  to  make  in  the  world,  and 
he  had  himself  to  blamo  if  he  set  about  doing  so  by  a 
bad  method.  The  value  of  Lu's  real  estate  to  the 
uttermost  farthing,  her  goods  and  chattels,  as  well 
as  that  in  prospect,  he  had  found  out,  in  detail, 
and  as  she  had  not  once  set  him  back  in  his  preten 
sions,  as  a  matter  of  course,  he  pressed  them  upon 


228  SNAP. 

her.  She  was  a  very  pretty  prey  for  just  such  a 
flatterer.  When  she  left  her  friends,  —  the  light 
headed  coterie, —  she  had  vowed  in  a  maidenly  way 
never  to  come  back  without  having  taken  a  scalp— 
the  border  phrase  of  the  day  for  catching  a  beau  —in 
some  sort  of  heroic  fashion,  and  Jumper  was  quick  to 
cross  her  trail  that  she  might  seize  upon  him  as  a 
victim.  That  two  young  persons  with  so  much  in 
common  should  come  together  often,  was  only  natural. 
They  had  been  known  to  each  other  for  a  long  time  as 
Lu  and  Harry. 

About  a  dozen  miles  below  the  post  on  the  river's 
bank,  was  a  woodchopper's  camp.  Jumper  had  urged 
Lu  to  trust  herself  with  him  on  a  visit  to  this  place, 
and  she  had  consented.  They  mounted  their  horses, 
Lu  upon  the  frisky  Kitty,  and  rode  away  in  the  early 
morning;  she,  the  pretty,  blue-eyed,  simple  little  girl, 
and  he,  the  mannish,  over-smart  boy,  side  by  side. 
Just  so,  through  the  world  they  go  in  pairs,  lured  on 
until  real  life,  like  a  savage  in  the  bush,  flies  its 
arrows,  and  regret  mocks  them,  like  the  laugh  of 
drunken  men.  They  had  ridden  a  long  stretch  from 
the  post,  and  already  Jumper  began  to  reckon  upon 
chances. 

" Harry  dear,"  said  the  weak  voice  at  his  side,  "is 
there  any  danger  away  out  here  ?  " 

"  Can  you  trust  to  me  ? "  he  replied  ;  "  if  there's 
danger  ain't  I  with  you?"  laying  stress  upon  the  ego. 

"I  do  wish  so  much  we  were  safe  on  the  steamer." 

"  I'll  put  you  there,  Lu  ;   all  creation  can't  stop  me." 


REBUKED  BUT  NOT  REBUFFED.         229 

"  How  brave  you  are,"  she  said,  with  a  simpering, 
childlike  trust. 

Now  in  the  rapture  of  an  idle  day-dream, —  the  rose- 
tinted  gossamer  which  veils  the  sight  of  youth, —  they 
drew  near  a  thicket.  Love's  soft  nonsense  was  quickly 
hushed  in  fear,  for  they  had,  without  warning,  ridden 
into  a  camp  of  Indians  maddened  by  drink.  Lu's 
horse  sprang  aside,  dashed  ahead,  and  Jumper's  fol 
lowed  : 

"  Dear,  dear  Harry,  what  shall  we  do?" 

On  looking  back  he  saw  that  the  Indians  were  pur 
suing  them.  They  gave  chase  for  sport,  and  in  the 
muddle  of  his  wits,  Jumper  said  to  Lu,  almost  rudely; 

"Run." 

The  band  came  on  hooting,  laughing  and  springing 
their  arrows  into  the  air,  after  the  fleeing  couple. 

"Oh,  I  shall  faint;  help  me,  Harry;  help  me;" 
cried  the  girl,  in  a  really  pitiable  plight. 

"  Pinch  yourself,  Lu  ;  stick  yourself  with  a  pin  ;  " 
he  said  to  her,  losing  what  little  sense  was  left  to  him. 
Such  an  answer  at  such  a  time  was  cruelly  careless, 
but  it  was  the  spur  to  her  escape,  as  it  proved.  She 
loosed  the  rein  and  Kit  bounded  away.  As  she  looked 
back  at  Jumper,  there  rang  in  his  ears  a  parting 
answer. 

"You're  a  coward,  Harry  Carver,"  she  said,  as  she 
swept  on,  and  he  saw  the  graceful  form  of  his  sweet 
heart  taking  wings  and  fast  fading  from  his  sight. 

Jumper  was  not  a  coward,  for  as  his  flurry  calmed, 
he  outwitted  the  Indians  with  skill.  He  was  riding  an 


230  SNAP. 

old  cob,  and  as  they  neared  him  he  quietly  let  himself 
down,  that  his  horse  might  fall  into  their  hands  ;  he 
knew  they  would  be  content  with  the  capture  and  he 
would  cover  his  flight  by  the  ruse.  And  so  it  hap 
pened  ;  catching  the  mount,  they  turned  and  rode 
back. 

Kitty  carried  Lu  out  of  danger ;  on  the  skirt  of  the 
wood  she  heard  the  sound  of  the  axe  and  saw  the  land 
ing  on  the  river;  she  drew  rein  thanking  her  good 
angel,  for  the  ride  of  the  two  was  a  runaway  match. 
Jumper,  by  dint  of  long  coaxing,  won  Lu's  consent, 
and  she,  to  carry  back  to  her  friends  the  trophy  she 
had  vowed  to  seize,  had  thought  the  youth  not  a  poor 
catch.  On  that  day  a  boat  "downstream"  and  the 
one  coming  to  Cheviteau's  would  meet  at  this  camp. 
In  the  first  they  were  to  sail  away  to  Gretna  Green, 
sending  the  horses  to  the  post  by  the  other.  Jumper 
planned  it  all,  but  the  emeute  changed  Lu  from  a 
foolish  little  maiden  to  a  sensible  being  in  a  trice  ;  the 
good  angel's  very  best  \\  hisper. 

She  returned  in  the  boat,  refusing  to  speak  with  the 
crest-fallen  hero.  How  he  squared  his  profit  and  loss 
account  the  Colonel  knew  best,  but  Lu,  the  penitent, 
threw  herself  into  Mary's  arms  and  told  everything. 

A  few  days  after,  while  the  captain  of  the  "Pioneer" 
refreshed  himself  at  the  sideboard,  he  asked  to  take 
Carver  into  his  service,  and  the  trader  made  no  serious 
objections. 

The  Judge  was  still  a  guest  at  the  post ;  his  stay,  in 
his  own  excuse,  was  to  attend  to  politics  ;  but  the  Doc- 


REBUKED  BUT  NOT  REBUFFED.       231 

tor,  a  worldly-wise  man,  let  his  pretext  pass  lor  what 
it  was  worth,  weighing  it  against  a  heavy  doubt. 

At  an  earlier  hour  of  the  same  day,  he,  the  Judge, 
went  forth  also,  but  took  some  pains  to  cover  his  trail 
from  the  eyes  of  the  family  ;  he  had  a  written  permit 
from  the  Colonel  to  pass  the  patrol,  which  he  handed 
to  the  one  he  met  and  rode  on. 

The  Judge  knew  and  felt  that  there  was  some  dan 
ger  ahead,  but  he  would  take  care  not  to  provoke  the 
few  Indians  left  behind  from  the  annual  hunt.  He  was 
bent  upon  knowing,  with  the  keen  eye  of  a  speculator, 
the  lay  of  their  lands.  In  taking  his  bearings,  he 
would  keep  strict  account  \vhere_best  to  plant  his  own 
stakes,  if  the  future  gave  him  a  chance,  caring  little, 
though  he  thought  of  it,  that  his  rash  act  might  cause 
a  deadly  feud.  He  had  framed  a  petition  to  have  tho 
treaty  with  these  Indians  annulled,  and  to  open  their 
reservation  to  the  settler,  for  sale.  The  scheme  was  to 
be  bolstered  by  a  resolution  of  the  State  Legislature 
and  then  to  be  hurried  through  Congress. 

The  sky  was  as  brass,  the  earth  ashes.  The  Judge 
dropped  his  bridle  and  his  horse  walked  lazily  through 
the  brown  grass.  The  noon  blaze  scorched  ;  the  whirr 
in  the  trees,  the  gleam  on  the  plain  were  no  check  to 
his  scheming  thoughts.  He  straightened  himself  in 
the  stirrups,  and  was  about  to  coach  himself  aloud  in 
tho  cut-and-dried  cant  of  a  speech,  when  a  yell  paused 
his  hand  in  mid-air,  and  he  lost  his  seat  in  the  saddle. 

Before  he  could  rise,  the  band  of  drunken  braves, 
on  their  way  to  their  village  after  their  fright  to  Lu  and 


232  SNAP. 

Jumper,  pounced  upon  him.  They  painted  his  face, 
twisted  his  hair  into  a  coil,  pinned  it  with  feathers,  and 
tying  his  arms,  they  drove  him  off' with  laugh  and  jeer. 
In  this  disgraceful  fix,  late  in  the  evening,  the  Judge 
met  the  trader,  who  smiled  broadly,  for  he  knew  that 
the  Indians  had  taught  his  guest  to  mind  his  own 
business. 

p'  What  kinder  chief  did  them  redskins  make  you, 
Jedge?  You  look  like  a  Pache." 

"  Never  mind  the  looks,  Colonel ;  behavior's  every 
thing.  I  scattered  em,  seh." 

"  Oh,  you  did?  Well,  if  you  did,  how'd  they  come 
to  paint  your  face  ?  " 

"  Well,  they  had  reinforcements,  yes  —  " 

"  But  whar's  your  horse  ?  " 

"  The  patrol  caught  him." 

The  Judge  hurried  off  to  avoid  the  Doctor,  who 
came  up. 

The  train  was  on  the  road  skirting  the  lands  of  the 
Colonel's  unfriendly  neighbors.  Beck  had  good  reason 
for  alarm. 

Cartwright  and  the  gang,  after  their  desertion  of  the 
Spiders,  hastened  on  to  the  crib.  There  they  had  been 
attacked  by  Ferati's  cow-boys  and  "wiped  out,"  the 
thief  escaping  to  the  lodges  of  these  Indians,  with 
whom  he  was  then  living  as  a  squaw-man.  He  was  in 
their  village  when  Beck  stole  upon  the  crib  and*  came 
away  from  the  horrid  sight  with  white  cheeks. 

The  pirate  had  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  Judge  on 
his  ride,  and  had  vowed  to  the  savages  that  the  man 


REBUKED  BUT   NOT  REBUFFED.  233 

was  there  to  survey  their  lands,  and  was  nearer  the 
mark  than  he  knew  ;  he  clothed  the  Judge  with  author 
ity  to  dispossess  them  ;  he  likened  him  to  a  prowling 
wolf,  spoke  of  him  as  the  trader's  agent,  and  the  trader 
an  agent  of  others  in  a  plot  to  deprive  them  of  then- 
rights.  It  was  a  scheme,  they  were  told,  to  which  the 
government  had  given  its  encouragement. 

Even  now  the  speculator  was  ready  to  repeat  his  ad 
venture  ;  in  truth,  he  had  need  of  haste  to  leave  the 
post,  as  the  Doctor  seemed  curious  about  him.  His 
former  ride  awed  his  purpose  but  little,  and  he  now 
hired  two  axemen  at  the  camp,  a  compass  and  chain, 
and  so  soon  as  he  was  ready  for  the  work  these  men 
would  serve  him.  He  felt  at  ease,  that  the  small  band 
when  sober  would  not  molest  him,  if  he  guarded  his 
movements.  Success  required  that  he  should  know 
the  area  of  the  timber  land,  so  as  to  exhibit,  in  good 
shape,  the  best  attractions  of  the  steal.  He  knew  the 
depth  by  a  measurement  along  the  bluff,  and  now  to 
obtain  its  length  he  started  out  again.  He  had  been 
careful  to  hide  his  plans  from  the  trader  and  the 
scout. 

His  aides  were  found  in  waiting,  the  survey  began, 
and  while  running  his  lines  through  the  high  grass,  he 
was  seen  by  Cartwright.  The  night  before,  the  chief 
had  returned  from  the  hunt,  and  the  thief  wanted  no 
better  evidence  than  this  to  convict  the  trader  of  bad 
faith  in  the  eyes  of  the  Indian.  He  rode  fast,  concealed 
by  the  woods,  to  find  the  savage,  who  was  easily  led  to 
a  hiding-place,  where  both  eyed  the  shark  unseen.  In 


234  SNAP. 

thiit  brief  moment  the  redskin  became  a  bloodthirsty 
foe. 

The  Colonel,  during  the  absence  of  his  train,  had 
spare  moments  to  spend  with  his  daughter  on  the  porch. 
Mary's  long  formed,  most  earnest  wish  was  to  gain  her 
father's  consent  to  the  building  of  a  church  and  school- 
house,  but  he  with  some  indecision  had  put  it  aside. 
He  now  gave  way,  willing  to  yield  on  condition  that 
she  would  come  round  a  little  to  his  own  crotchet. 
His  age  had  called  to.  mind  that  she  ought  to  be 
settled  and  cared  for. 

"So  you  want  to  see  me  married?"     She  spoke 
frankly,  after  he  had  said  as  much  by  hint. 
"  Shure,  child,  why  not?  "  he  answered. 
"So  you  shall,  all  in  good    time,  father;    wonder 
what  Mister  John  would  think  to  hear  you  talk  in  that 
way." 

She  rose,  whispering  in  his  ear  some  secret  of  her 
heart,  and  he  turned  suddenly. 

"  Not  Charley?  "  he  asked  in  surprise. 
"No,    no,    father;     would   you    have   me    marry   a 
brother?" 

She  saw  the  Judge  standing  near,  and  she  hastily 
entered  the  house. 

While  Mary  and  her  father  stood  on  the  porch  at  a 
later  hour,  a  patrol  rode  up  ;  gun-tiring  had  been  heard, 
and  when  he  left  his  line  the  train  was  in  sight. 

"  All  right,"  the  old  man  said  with  a  pleased  face  ; 
"  Now,  Mary,  give  the  boys  the  best  in  the  house  when 


REBUKED  BUT  NOT  REBUFFED,  235 

they  come  ;  call  Chloe  an  have  a  set-out ;  I'll  tend  the 
sideboard." 

Whack  was  brought  in  and  put  to  bed  in  charge  of 
the  Doctor  and  Mary,  while  Lu,  whose  sympathy  was 
quickly  warmed,  fell  into  the  kindly  office  of  nurse, 
without  so  much  as  the  asking.  Wha<-k,  after  long, 
long  hours  of  her  tender  care,  thought  he  had  never 
seen  her  look  so  sweet,  as  when  she  came  on  tip 
toe  to  his  bedside.  It  is  more  than  likely,  she  had 
never  before  taken  so  much  pains  to  look  her  best. 
Mary  too,  seemed  to  take  an  amiable  delight  in  bring 
ing  the  two  together,  and  as  she  had  once  rebuked  his 
fancy  for  Jane,  she  seemed  to  make  amends  with  Lu, 
and  Whack  began  to  wonder. 

For  her  adopted  brother  Mary  had  a  very  lovable 
respect ;  she  knew  his  good  traits,  few  faults,  and  that 
her  father  liked  him ;  but  she  knew  and  felt  too,  that 
his  own  fancy  was  for  other  scenes  than  those  to  which 
her  own  heart  was  bound,  so  long  as  her  father  lived. 
Whack  felt  a  twofold  pleasure  in  being  nursed,  and  in 
nursing  his  wonder;  he  threw  aside  his  banter,  for 
Jumper  was  long  since  out  of  his  way,  and  with  the 
natural  humor  of  youth,  gave  back  to  Lu  look  for 
look.  Never  before,  in  her  young,  staid  life,  had 
Mary  felt  the  luxury  of  doing  good,  with  such  pecu 
liar  joy.  Lu,  in  the  daily  whisperings  with'  Mary, 
shared  her  secret  with  another,  and  under  such  re 
straint  became  timid  in  the  arts  of  her  sex,  and  was 
artless  and  purely  herself.  Thus  allured,  Whack  was 
moved  to  a  frank,  open  manner ;  in  tu.'ii  his  words 


236  SNAP. 

moved  her  heart,  and  thrilled  it  with  a  music  even 
her  dreams  had  never  heard.  Little  blue-eyes  was  in 
love. 

Mary  may  have  heard  some  stray  note  of  the  rhap 
sody,  at  least  she  felt  it,  and  she  caught  Lu  at  times 
and  held  her.  She  talked  to  her  often  of  a  true  wife's 
life  as  her  own  rare  faith  believed  it  should  be.  .Her 
friend  was  happy  as  her  love  grew  deeper,  stronger, 
and  trustingly  Lu  felt  the  pride  of  her  sex,  in  the 
counsel  of  one  among  the  truest. 

Even  the  old  man  began  to  suspect,  and  he  would 
tease  Lu,  and  beg  her  to  tell  him  exactly  what  she 
thought  of  Charley ;  the  scout  too  looked  askant  at 
Whack. 

Sitting  by  his  cot  the  Colonel  said : 

"  Charley,  thar's  nuthen  in  the  warehouses." 

"  I  know,  and  fall  trade's  open  in  New  York." 

"Will  you  go  back  thar?" 

"Right  off,  as  soon  as  I'm  well." 

"If  thar's  anything  in  the  way,  you  ken  say  to  the 
girl  for  me,  that  I'll  give  you  both  a  fair  start  in  life  ; 
now  git  well  soon." 

The  young  man's  emotion  kept  him  still,  and  the 
trader  went  on  : 

"Lu  has  got  sumpin  of  her  own,  but  let  her  reckon 
it  all  up,  boy,  an  I'll  kiver  it  all  for  you,  do  you  hyar." 

The  lad  who  had  always  shown  to  him  a  ready 
obedience,  harsh  as  the  order  sometimes  was ;  who 
had  fought  his  way  across  the  plains,  and  was  thereby 
"  edicated,"  had  claims  upon  him  he  was  ready  to 


REBUKED  BUT  NOT  REBUFFED.  237 

meet.  Whack  was  about  to  speak,  but  the  old  man 
had  his  say  without  allowing  his  thanks  : 

"  Sparking  is  a  good  enuf  sort  of  thing  in  its  way, 
but  bisnis  is  bisnis,  sell ; "  he  turned  back  from  the 
door  to  add,  with  a  twinkle  in  his  eye:  "An  she's 
pooty,  Charley,  an  a  very  good  sorter  girl." 

What  passed  between  the  young  people  after  this 
was  theirs  to  keep,  but  one  evening,  as  time  sped  on, 
the  light  and  shade  flung  from  the  vine  lay  golden  on 
her  head ;  she  heard  the  cool,  fresh  ripple  of  the 
stream,  and  his  words  were  like  it,  so  delicious  are 
love's  first  minutes.  She  sprang  up  from  the  cotside, 
and  her  kiss-warmed  cheek  was  as  bright  as  a  fleck  of 
the  sunset. 

Mary  heard  Lu's  quick  step  in  the  hall ;  she  turned 
and  saw  her  standing  in  the  doorway,  her  eyes  all 
deeply  blue.  Her  words  were  spoken  over  the  form 
she  drew  close  to  her  breast,  and  Lu's  whispered  an 
swer  was : 

"He's  mine  ;  he's  mine." 

Whack  was  easily  captured,  bound  down  as  he  was 
by  plaster  and  splint.  The  little  trapper,  in  whose 
heart  love  lighted  its  camp-fire,  took  the  young  man's 
scalp  with  a  glance  of  her  eyes. 


238  SNAP. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

IN   THE    WING. 

After  breakfast  the  Judge  made  his  appearance,  tak 
ing  a  seat  near  the  trader,  on  the  porch. 

rf  You  look  kinder  tired,  Jedge,"  said  the  old  man  ; 
"jine  me  in  a  smoke." 

"I  don't  mind,"  he  replied,  as  he  drew  up  his  chair. 

"  What  about  my  horse  ?  " 

"I  gave  him  to  the  patrol." 

"So  they  stripped  you,  did  they,  Jedge?" 

"  Well,  yes  ;  you  see,  Colonel,  they  rallied  after  being 
routed."  And  he  whipped  round  to  the  first  subject  his 
wits  caught  at,  and  said :  " How  has  trade  prospered 
with  you  ?  " 

"Wellenuf." 

"  Before  long  you'll  be  a  millionaire  ?  " 

"No,  seh;  not  half,  an  it's  cost  blood  and  sweat 
enuf  for  the  other  half,  an  no  thanks  neether.  How 
do  you  get  on,  Jedge  ?  " 

"I've  done  well,  but  it  was  shrewdness,  nothing 
else  ;  we've  got  to  be  smart,  you  know.  Why,  you 
see,  Colonel,  I  buy  land  grants,  and  lend  money,  and 
when  a  settler  comes  to  squat  on  a  hundred  and  sixty 
acre  tract,  at  one  dollar  twenty-five  cents  an  acre,  I 
let  him  have  the  money  to  pay  for  it,  on  credit ;  uovv, 


IN  THE    WING.  239 

you  see,  I  take  his  note  for  twelve  months,  at  two  per 
cent,  interest  a  month,  and  a  mortgage  for  security. 
You  know,  Colonel,  no  settler  can  make  it  up  in  a 
yeah,  on  raw  prairie ;  they  break  the  sod,  grow  sick 
from  malaria,  die  or  move  away.  Well,  I  foreclose ; 
get  land,  improvements  and  all;  first  cost  to  me,  next 
to  nothing.  The  law  only  'lows  me  one  tract,  as  a 
settler,  but  in  this  way,  Colonel,  —  why,  I  own  whole 
townships  ;  "  and  the  Judge's  air  was  that  of  one  well 
pleased  with  himself,  but  the  Colonel  bit  his  tongue  to 
keep  the  word  "  shark  "  from  slipping.  He  made  ex 
cuse,  at  once,  to  part  with  the  Judge's  company  and 
hastened  off. 

Whack  was  ordered  to  New  York  ;  Lu  was  to  go 
with  him,  and  with'  her  aunt's  consent  they  were  to  be 
married  at  her  own  home.  As  the  boat  was  expected 
he  sought  Mary  in  her  retreat,  and  found  her  sewing 
on  a  piece  of  needle  finery,  a  souvenir  for  Lu.  Now 
and  then  she  held  it  up  in  the  light  and  smiled  at  the 
witchery  of  each  stitch,  and  on  the  lovable  little  things 
entwined  in  its  meshes.  Looking  up  she  saw  Whack 
standing  near.  He  was  no  longer  a  dread  for  womanly 
caution  to  hold  at  arm's  length ;  he  was  no  longer  to 
be  feared,  when  he  was  the  captive  of  another,  so  she 
dropped  her  work,  and  laid  her  hand  on  his  should 
ers  : 

"Ain't  you  happy,  Whack,  old  fellow?  and  your 
scalp  is  clean  gone ;  well,  now  in  our  happiest  hour 
you  will  let  Mary  say  to  you,  with  all  her  heart,  God 
bless  you." 


240  SNAP. 

What  followed  the  veriest  spinster  might  guess  ;  they 
kissed  of  course. 

Lu  was  packing  her  trunk,  and  having  closed  the  lid 
she  sat  musing.  She  had  come  to  the  post  a  tickle 
little  being  with  views  of  life  childlike  and  vain,  but 
the  friendship  of  Mary  had  so  gained  upon  her,  she 
had  grown  stronger  and  better  every  day,  and  now 
with  a  truer  spirit  she  found  a  happier  heart. 

Whack  had  a  parting  talk  with  the  trader  in  his 
office,  and  he  remembered  it  gratefully  all  his  after  life. 
The  old  man  believed  in  early  marriage  ;  it  gave  a 
young  man,  he  thought,  a  purpose  in  life,  raised  his 
ambition  and  trained  him  for  serious  work.  Whack, 
in  his,  the  trader's  belief,  was  the  beau  ideal  of  a  can 
didate. 

Beck  met  Whack  as  he  came  away  from  the  office, 
and  with  warmth  of  feeling  he  said  : 

"  I'm  sorry  you're  going  ;  come  back  as  soon  as  you 
can,  this  yeah's  the  best  place  for  you." 

When  the  whistle  was  heard  the  old  man  took  Lu  in 
his  arms,  Mary  and  she  embraced  in  tears  and  Chloe 
cast  the  shoe  as  they  all  went  down  to  the  landing. 
Whack  and  Lu  were  seen  far  away  side  by  side  on  the 
deck  of  the  boat,  and  as  they  in  turn  looked  back, 
they  saw  the  form  of  the  scout ;  he  leaned  on  his 
rifle. 

"  Come  Mary,  let's  go  to  work,"  said  Doctor  Tom 
after  her  friends  had  gone  ;  he  saw  that  she  longed  for 
them  and  was  lonesome. 

"Where  will  we  go,  Doctor?" 


IN   THE    WING.  241 

"  Into  the  wing ;  we  can  assort  and  arrange  your 
father's  collection ;  and  make  the  place  a  sort  of 
museum." 

Together  they  went  to  the  little  room  stored  with 
the  odds  and  ends  of  savage  customs  and  warfare,  oi 
the  border  garb  and  weapons,  and  the  Doctor  sat  down 
in  a  chair.  Above  his  head,  the  steel-pointed  spear 
and  arrows  and  a  Navajo's  battle  club,  hung  on  a 
quaintly  woven  blanket. 

"  Just  see,  Mary,  with  what  labor  these  savages 
work  to  destroy  ;  those  weapon-points  are  beaten  into 
shape  with  stones  ;  what  must  their  hate  be?"  he  said, 
looking  up. 

"  I've  just  read  a  book  written  in  the  East ;  it  throws 
all  the  blame  for  all  the  strife  on  us ;  that's  not 
right,"  she  answered,  taking  up  a  reed  whistle  of  the 
Seminole,  and  a  long,  sinew-bound  bow  of  the  Apache, 
which  she  hung  up  side  by  side ;  the  one  listless,  the 
other  unstrung. 

"Eastern  people  are  educated  by  reading  novels,  to 
a  romantic  admiration  of  the  red  man ;  their  philan 
thropy  is  safe  because  it  is  distant ;  they're  sincere 
because  they  are  ignorant,  but  we  know  ;  we  have  had 
our  goods  and  children  stolen,  our  houses  burned,  our 
wives  and  people  murdered." 

The  Doctor  was  hanging,  on  a  scalping  knife  driven 
into  the  plaster,  the  feathered  head-gear  of  a  Sioux 
warrior,  and  with  it  his  tomahawk,  pipe,  moccasins, 
wampum  and  bullet-pouch ;  they  were  laid  on  a 
dressed  fawn  skin  embroidered  with  stained  quills ; 


242  SNAP. 

these  he  circled  with  a  hide  thong,  the  bridle  of  these 
horsemen. 

"Now,  this  is  the  dress  and  outfit  of  what  they  call 
a  brave,"  he  said,  as  he  finished  the  group  ;  tf  he  was  a 
warrior,  and  the  best  that  can  be  said  of  him  is,  that 
he  was  enduring,  self-reliant,  cunning;  a  lazy  loafer 
about  his  camp  one  day,  he  was  a  swooping  demon  the 
next ;  an  abject  beggar  or  a  daring  thief  as  circum 
stances  warrant ;  lying  to  him  was  one  of  the  fine  arts  ; 
licentious  without  generosity,  treacherous  in  all  his 
acts  and  dealings,  most  cold-blooded,  and  full  of  in 
ventions  in  the  refinements  of  cruelty,  he  was  a  most 
dangerous  and  terrible  animal ;  he  fought  to  the  death 
when  cornered,  but  it  is  as  the  wolf  fights,  who  neither 
gives  nor  expects  mercy ;  there  is  a  total  lack  of  that 
courage  which  prompts  men  to  fight  from  a  sense  of 
duty  ;  craft  with  him  was  better  than  courage."  The 
Doctor  was  standing  on  a  chair  as  he  warmed  up  to 
his  subject,  and  he  resembled  an  auctioneer  crying 
down  the  things  before  him.  "Hand  me  up  the  lot  to 
your  right,  Mary,  which  I  have  assorted." 

One  by  one  she  gave  him  the  outfit  of  the  Mexican  ; 
calzoneros  trimmed  with  round  plated  buttons  ;  kirge 
roweled  spurs, like  those  the  vaqueros  wore,  with  little 
bells  that  tinkled  at  every  motion  ;  the  faded  poncho, 
the  scarlet  sash,  the  horse-hair  cord  bridle,  the  cruel 
bit,  the  black,  glazed  sombrero  of  brigandish  cut ; 
these  the  Doctor  set  in  the  coil  of  a  split  hide  lasso, 
flexible  as  a  whip-lash. 

"  Well,  then,  Doctor,  why  should  these  people  write 


IN   THE    WING.  243 

and  talk  this  way  ?  I  have  great  sympathy  for  the  In 
dian  children  and  women,"  said  Mary,  taking  up  the 
thread  of  the  conversation. 

"Well,  Mary,  it  is  just  this:  a  man  surrounded  by 
the  influence  of  a  moral,  cultivated  society  has  no 
conception  of  the  Indian  character;  the  truth  is  simply 
too  shocking,  and  the  revolted  mind  takes  refuge  in  dis 
belief;  as  to  the  children,  take  the  Indian  as  a  boy; 
his  models  are  men  great  and  renowned  in  degree  as 
they  are  ferocious  from  the  number  of  scalps  they  have 
taken,  or  the  thefts  they  have  committed ;  there  is  no 
right  or  wrong  to  him,  his  own  will  is  law ;  his  only 
instruction  is  to  fit  him  best  to  act  a  part  in  the 
chase,  in  theft,  and  in  murder;  he  is  taught  all  that  is 
necessary  to  savage  life,  nothing  more ;  privation 
teaches  endurance  ;  when  he  has  food  he  eats  to  reple 
tion,  when  he  has  none  he  hunts  for  it ;  if  he  has 
clothing  he  wears  it,  if  not,  he  is  happy  in  leggins  and 
paint ;  he  is  patient,  for  time  is  nothing  to  him ;  he  is 
never  homesick,  because  all  places  are  equally  his 
home ;  virtue,  morality,  generosity,  honor  are  words 
not  only  absolutely  without  significance  to  him,  but 
are  not  accurately  translatable  into  an  Indian  language 
of  the  plains." 

"  I  hope  you  don't  do  them  injustice,  Doctor,"  said 
Mary. 

"  Oh,  no,  my  young  friend,  not  injustice.  I  wish  my 
voice  could  be  heard  all  over  the  land,  for  it  is  only 
by  knowing  what  the  Indian  really  is,  that  ever  he  will 
be  pitied ;  if  he  is  left  as  he  is,  he'll  be  annihilated. 


244  SNAP. 

No,  Mary,  it  is  a  mistake  that  will  prove  most  cruel  to 
the  Indian  ;  he  must  be  known  as  he  is ;  the  grandest 
exploits,  and  the  noblest  virtues  to  the  Indian  are  com 
prehended  in  the  English  words,  theft,  pillage,  rapine, 
murder ;  he  can  expect  no  honor  from  man  or  love 
from  woman,  until  he  has  taken  a  scalp  or  stolen  a 
horse,  and  he  who  crawls  upon  a  sleeping  enemy  and 
kills  him  before  he  can  awaken,  is  a  better  warrior  and 
entitled  to  more  praise,  than  he  who  kills  his  enemy  in 
a  fair  fight ;  a  scalp  is  a  scalp  with  him ;  the  tender 
cuticle  of  an  infant,  the  "  long,  foir  hair  "  of  a  helpless 
woman,  are  as  dearly  prized  as  the  grizzled  scalp-lock 
of  the  veteran  of  a  hundred  fights.* 

o 

"Now  hand  me  that  collection,  Mary,  near  you; 
that's  the  rig  of  the  fellows  who  have  tried  to  open  the 
way  for  civilization ;  what  blood  it  has  cost." 

Piece  by  piece  she  gave  him  the  costume  of  the 
American  frontiersman ;  the  deerskin  hunting-shirt 
with  fringed  skirt  and  leggins  alike,  shoes  of  parfleche, 
the  coon-skin  cap  with  fox-tail  drooping  from  it ;  the 
long-stocked  Kentucky  rifle,  the  hunting-knife,  from 
which  the  Bowie  was  a  copy,  and  other  things  of  the 
outfit. 

"  How  I  wish  the  strife  was  over  ;  "  she  said  with  a 
sigh,  "this  has  been  my  wish  all  these  long  years,  but 
you  give  me  little  hope." 

*  The  substance  of  this  conversation,  wherein  the  Doctor  speaks  of  the 
Indian,  is  borrowed  almost  verbatim  from  "  The  Plains  of  the  Great  We&t;  " 
Lieut -Col.  R.I.  Dodge,  U.  S.  A,  and  the  introduction  to  the  same,  by 
William  Blackmore.  The  author  has  taken  the  broad  liberty  to  appropriate 
and  adapt,  so  that  his  own  opiuioii  of  the  Indian,  which  coincides,  may  not 
stand  unsupported. 


IN   THE    WING.  245 

"Well,  child,  it's  only  the  story  of  the  world,  of  the 
race  of  mankind ;  it  has  been  written,  you  know,  in 
blood;  heroes  and  martyrs,  the  strong  to  slay,  the 
weak  to  perish ;  man  to  be  great  must  dare  and  suffer 
so  long  as  there  is  cruelty  or  wrong ;  when  there  is 
none  then  comes  the  millenium." 

Mary  had  come  to  her  father  simply  taught  in  the 
principles  of  duty,  by  those  to  whom  the  sense  of  it 
was  inherent ;  she  had  taken  her  place  scarce  knowing 
what  she  did  beyond  the  impulse  of  that  duty ;  it  was 
a  part  whose  trials  she  little  kneAV,  and  would  have 
shrunk  from  them  as  little,  had  she  known.  Her 
presence  was  the  first  sign  of  social  form  through  which 
has  come  the  after  rule  of  church  and  school,  the  after 
peace  of  law  and  order ;  and  whatever  her  trials  be, 
though  floodlike  they  come,  there  is  another  tide  to 
bear  to  her  a  blessing  for  every  tear. 

She  and  the  Doctor  were  now  assorting  the  minor 
curios;  the  wide-spreading  horns  of  a  Texan,  the 
antlers  of  a  moose,  the  twisted  butters  of  a  mountain- 
goat,  the  hoof  of  a  lead-ox,  labelled  "Blaze,"  a  grizzly 
bear's  claws,  the  tail  of  a  stallion,  the  wicker  cradle  of 
a  papoose,  the  guarache  of  a  peon,  rifles,  short  and  !<>ng, 
of  scout  and  trapper  ;  and  the  Doctor  hung  up  an  ante 
lope's  head,  vis-a-vis  with  a  grinning  catamount's.  They 
kept  at  their  work  steadily,  for  it  seemed  to  please 
Mary  to  hear  the  Doctor  talk. 

The  redskins  near  by  were  "  showing  their  teeth," 
and  the  scout  knew  that  the  pirate's  malice  was  work 
ing  the  mischief.  Stray  cattle  and  horses  were  stolen, 


246  SNAP. 

the  vaqneros  and  patrols  were  shot  at,  a  hay-stack  was 
set  on  fire ;  the  men  were  growing  restive.  It  was 
these  alarms  that  had  taken  him  away  so  often.  Beck 
had  tried  to  bring  about  a  parley  to  pacify  the  few,  and, 
by  presents,  to  win  them  to  friendliness ;  but  he  found 
them  cross  and  hateful,  and,  in  degree  as  they  became 
more  and  more  so,  he  measured  the  infamy  of  the  thief. 
The  scout  also  thought  he  might  put  danger  aside  by 
seeking  the  chief  on  the  plains,  to  arouse  against  Cart- 
wright  a  counter  feeling,  and  he  was  about  to  take 
the  trail  when  the  patrol  sent  word  of  the  tribes' 
return. 

All  this  wore  upon  the  man's  manner,  and  Mary  saw 
under  an  unreal  cheer,  his  trouble  of  mind ;  her  eyes 
followed  and  haunted  him  with  a  thousand  ugly  fears. 
Happily  for  those  who  sped  the  glad  hours  under  the 
trader's  roof,  the  chief  was  slow  to  act ;  he  let  his  tem 
per  grow  hot  by  degrees,  kept  his  own  counsel  and 
waited. 

"Good  bye,  Mary,"  said  Beck,  as  he  rode  up  on  his 
horse  to  the  window  of  the  wing. 

"Where  are  you  going,  Mister  John?" 
"  To  look  about  for  pirates  ;  mus  go  ;  "  and  he  spoke 
wearily,  as  one  needing  peace  and  rest. 

She  gave  him  an  anxious  glance.  "Must  go?"  she 
asked,  "when  will  the  time  come  to  say  you  won't 
go?" 

"Jus  when  the  law  says  so,  and  the  government  sees 
that  the  law  is  carried  out ;  then  we  won't  have  to  take 
the  law  in  our  hands,  and  it'll  hunt  and  hang  a  thief 
like  Cart wright." 


IN   THE    WING.  247 

"  That'll  be  a  long  time,  John  Beck  ;  it  has  been  put 
off  up  to  our  time,  and  the  children  of  to-day,  out  here, 
will  say  the  same  thing  when  they  are  £Town." 

"  Will  we  never  have  peace  ?  "  asked  Mary. 

"Not  till  we  make  it  by  fighting  down  its  foe,"  said 
the  Doctor. 

"if  your  father  and  me,  Mary,  hold  back,  they'd 
come  like  wolves  and  chaw  us  up  ;  "  the  scout  added. 

"Who,  the  Indians?"  she  asked. 

"Not  allers  the  Injins,  they're  bad  enough;  but  the 
sharks  and  pirates." 

"Beck  means  the  squaw-men,  the  Indian  name  for 
what  wo  whites  call  the  pirates,"  said  the  Doctor. 

"What's  a  squaw-man?"  she  asked. 

"  Bill  Cartwright ;  "  answered  the  speaker.  "  Living 
among  these  tribes  are  outcasts,  — American,  French, 
Mexican,  — the  lowest  refuse  spewed  out  by  the  society 
in  which  they  were  born  ;  they  bring  with  them  horses, 
sufficient  not  only  to  make  friends,  but  to  buy  one  or 
more  squaws  and  a  tepee,  to  enable  them  to  set  up 
housekeeping ;  the  squaws  draw  rations  from  the 
Agencies  for  themselves  and  their  children.  Having 
more  natural  shrewdness  than  the  Indian,  they  soon 
gain  ascendancy.  These  are  the  men  who  furnish  arms, 
and  supply  whiskey.  At  his  own  best  game,  in  lying, 
stealing,  drinking,  and  debauchery,  the  squaw-man  is 
so  far  superior  to  the  Indian,  as  to  gain  admiration  ;  it 
is  from  these  men  that  the  Indians  get  their  ideas  of  the 
character,  capacity,  morality,  and  religion  of  white  men. 
These  ruffians,  with  their  half-breed  children,  are  fed 


248  SNAP. 

and  fostered  by  the  government ;  they  are  adepts  in  the 
Indian  language,  and  all  the  intercourse  between  the 
government  and  the  Indians  is  filtered  through  them, 
and  partakes  of  their  character;  full  of  duplicity, 
treachery,  and  evasion."  * 

"Good  by,  Mister  John,"  Mary  said,  as  Beck  turned 
his  horse  to  ride  off,  "  a  batter  day  will  come." 

"May  be,"  he  answered,  as  a  sudden  shade  passed 
over  his  face  ;  he  turned  and  rode  away.  Mary  sat 
down,  and  over  her  own  fair  features  a  shadow  swept, 
from  the  strong  man's  mood.  The  talk  of  the  Doctor 
and  the  scout  had  chilled  her  spirits ;  suddenly  she 
seemed  to  take  in  the  wider  scope  of  the  dangers 
about  them.  She  knew,  as  all  on  the  border  knew, 
that  the  braver  pioneers  fought  the  battles  and  were 
swept  away ;  passed  away  from  the  memory  of  a 
thankless  government.  It  was  a  solemn  truth  for  a 
young  woman  to  think  upon  ;  hate  was  burning  in  the 
heart  of  the  white  and  the  red  man,  a  consuming  fire, 
like  the  gust-flames  of  the  prairie.  How  soon  would 
her  fair  dream  vanish,  her  hopes  to  blackened  cinders 
turn,  and  the  scene  so  dear  to  her,  withered  and 
scorched,  be  scattered  to  the  winds? 

"  I  am  sorry,  Doctor,  for  all  you  have  said  about  the 
Indian ;  and  I  wonder  where  Mister  John  is  gone  ? " 
the  thought  of  him  raised  a  spirit  of  womanly  cour 
age,  and  she  caught  a  gleam  of  the  brighter  side.  "  I 
reckon,"  she  added,  "we'll  fight  it  through."  This 
was  a  new  phase  of  faith  ;  hitherto  her  prayer  had  been 

*  "  The  Plains  of  the  Great  West." 


IN  THE    WING.  249 

that  peace  would  come,  to  spring  like  early  flowers 
around  a  church  and  school;  now  had  dawned  upon 
her  an  idea  of  a  struggle  ;  it  found  her  armed  in  soul 
for  the  bitterest  moinent^and  all  that  courage  needed 
lay  deep  and  warm. 

While  the  Doctor  and  Mary  were  still  at  work, 
Judge  Smith,  sauntering  by,  came  into  the  room.  To 
the  Doctor  his  appearance  was  always  a  provocation ; 
not  that  he  hated  the  man,  but  he  mistrusted  him,  and 
the  Judge  always  managed  in  some  unhappy  way  to 
wake  the  other's  ire  by  touching  upon  some  unpleasant 
subject ;  he  was  prone  to  take  the  part  of  the  Indian, 
in  order,  as  the  Doctor  believed,  to  cover  up  some 
hidden  scheme  wherein  the  Indian  was  concerned. 

"Hello,  Doctor,"  he  said,  in  a  manner  to  irritate, 
"you're  at  work  among  your  friends." 

"  Who  do  you  mean  by  my  friends  ?  " 

"The  Indians." 

"I'm  a  better  friend  of  the  Indian,  Judge,  than  you. 
I'm  not  an  intermeddler,  seh,  trying  to  break  up  what 
the  law  and  treaty  have  established  ;  what  little  law  we 
have  and  whatever  sense  there  may  be  in  a  treaty  with 


a  savage." 


The  Judge  winced,  for  the  Doctor,  perhaps  without 
knowing,  was  treading  heavily  on  his  corns. 

"Well,  the  Indian  feels  that  he  is  being  crowded 
and  pushed  back ;  that's  only  human  nature." 

"  I  tell  you  there's  very  little  of  human  nature  about 
him,  seh ;  its  all  inhuman.  Trade  is  a  pioneer,  and 
while  it  seeks  to  open  a  way  for  civilization,  it  has  not 


250 

been  hard  on  the  Indian.  Its  motive  has  always  been 
to  conciliate ;  it  Avould  have  profited  by  friendly 
alliance  with  him." 

"  Oh,  he  don't  understand  these  things." 

"  He  understands  only  too  well  the  law  of  his  own 
rights  ;  can't  he  be  made  to  feel  the  law  that  values 
human  life  and  sets  a  penalty  on  murder?  If  the 
white  man  was  not  a  brave,  patient  enemy,  and  should 
he  rise  to  resent  in  force,  he  would  reform  the  evils 
with  the  snap  o'  the  whip  and  the  crack  o'  the  rifle ;  he 
would  reform  them  altogether."' 

'*  You  expect  too  much  of  the  Indian,  and  not  enough 
of  the  white  man." 

"  1  don't  consider  a  man  white  who  tampers  with  the 
passions  of  a  savage,  or  in  any  way  incites  him  to 
revenge."  The  Doctor  was  growing  warm.  "  There  are 
too  many  Cartwrights  on  the  highways  of  our  progress, 
seh ;  we  want  scouts,  honest,  fearless  guides  on  the 
open  plain  of  action ;  sentinels  to  cry  the  hour  and 
the  "  all's  well  "  of  peaceful  pursuits  ;  that's  what  we 
want,  seh." 

Just  then  the  voice  of  Chloe  was  heard  screaming, 
which  at  once  broke  up  the  squabble  between  the  Doc 
tor  and  the  Judge,  and  brought  them  to  the  door. 
Mary  was  there  first. 

"  What's  the  matter?"  she  asked. 

"  He's  begunned  agin,  honey." 

"Who?" 

"  Dat  chicken  ;  dar  now,  foh  de  lah  chile,  he's  gone 


IN  THE    WING.  251 

an  done  it  agin."  She  was  watching  the  rooster,  and 
he  had  climbed  the  fence  to  the  mystical  number  of 
three  times  ;  each  time  he  had  crowed  lustily,  and  she 
was  in  a  sore  strait  of  mind. 


252  SNAP. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

THE    OUTBREAK. 

Cheviteau  had  striven  through  all  his  life  to  keep 
alive  good  feeling  and  good  faith  with  the  Indian  ;  not 
alone  from  prudence  but  from  a  really  generous  nature  ; 
he  was  sure  to  punish  those  under  him  for  an  infraction 
of  this  rule.  There  had  been  many  vicious,  spiteful 
tricks  played  upon  him  by  the  redskins  near  the  post, 
but  with  a  manly  disregard  he  let  them  pass.  He  was 
not  blind,  and  he  knew  that  his  gifts  to  them  were  re 
ceived,  not  as  gratuities,  but  as  tributes  he  was 
bound  to  pay  to  placate  a  secret  foe.  In  degree  as 
success  helped  him  on,  as  his  trade  and  thrift  grew  to 
a  blooming  bay-tree,  the  jealousy  of  the  savage  warmed, 
his  hate  deepened,  and  he  stared  with  eyes  full  of  tire. 
It  was  by  the  strictest  cautions  that  the  trader  lived  in 
peace  ;  it  was  in  waiting  a  chance  that  the  Indian  per 
mitted  this  peace  by  sufferance,  and  the  old  man  felt 
that  there  was  a  spark  burning  low,  anou  to  burst  into 
flame. 

On  the  morning  after  Lu  and  Charley  had  departed, 
Mary  was  seated  under  the  vines,  and  saw  Beck  mount 
his  horse,  ride  off,  and  she  watched  him  until  he  was 
seen  to  take  a  trail  to  the  prairie. 


THE   OUTBREAK.  253 

Cartwright  dogged  the  steps  of  the  chief  whispering 
his  venemous  and  deadly  lies  ;  he  urged,  he  plead,  and 
at  last  he  saw  the  lines  in  the  face  of  the  savage  fixed 
for  revenge.  What  he  would  do  was  soon  known. 
He  smeared  his  breast  that  his  band  might  behold 
a  mark  true  to  their  own  malice.  He  folded  a 
blanket  over  his  shoulders,  snatched  up  his  rifle  and 
tomahawk,  and  strode  away.  They  looked  after  him 
on  the  trail  he  had  taken  to  the  post. 

Later  in  the  day,  while  Mary  and  her  father  stood 
on  the  porch,  a  patrol  rode  up  to  say,  that  a  chief 
had  been  halted  on  their  line  ;  he  wanted  to  have  "  a 
big  talk"  with  the  white  man,  —  "the  man  with  the 
whip."  A  guard  was  sent  for,  and  as  the  patrol  rode 
away,  Mary  spoke  to  her  father,  quickly : 

"I  don't  like  this." 

"Why,  child?" 

"  I  don't  like  it ;  something  tells  me  that  this  Indian 
means  no  good." 

"  You're  kinder  outer  sorts,  Mary,  that's  all." 

"I  hope  so,  father,  indeed." 

"  Go  in  then  ;  he  won't  come  nigh  you." 

The  chief  was  well  known  to  the  trader ;  known  to 
be  taciturn,  and  suspected  of  being  a  thief.  He  was 
crafty;  a  little  more  so  than  most  of  his  kind,  which 
passed  for  a  better  trait ;  he  kept  hidden  but  hot  the 
antipathies  of  his  race.  The  patrol  came  with  him  and 
stayed  near  at  hand  with  the  guard. 

"  How  !  "  was  the  blunt  greeting  of  the  trader.  He 
felt  sore  at  the  thought,  that  by  the  aid  of  this  tribe 


254  SNAP. 

Mary  had  been  stolen,  and  the.  scout  knew  that  it  was 
now  in  collusion  with  the  pirate.  Hence  the  old  man 
was  civil,  nothing  more. 

To  the  white  man's  words  the  chief  was  cold  and 
stiff",  and  turned  his  eyes  away,  fixed  on  the  cabins  in 
the  distance.  He  walked  to  the  rear  of  the  dwelling, 
and  then  spoke  to  the  Colonel  in  broken  English  : 

"Heap  house,"  he  said,  pointing  to  those  in  the 
circle. 

The  trader  nodded. 

"Heap  blanket?" 

"No." 

"  Me— he — see — urn." 

"  No." 

"  Me — him — no — see — um . " 

A  shake  of  the  head  was  the  answer ;  the  chief  eyed 
the  other  and  paused. 

"  Heap  ox  ?  "  he  went  on. 

"  Yes." 

"  Heap  mens  —  you  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"How  much— heap  mens  you?" 

"Heap;"  said  the  Colonel,  not  caring  to  give  him 
an  inch,  as  the  Indian  would  be  sure  to  grasp  at  an 
ell. 

Mary  brought  some  food,  and  her  father,  in  the  hope 
that  it  might  move  the  visitor  to  a  better  temper,  said 
she  might  offer  it ;  Mary  motioned  the  Indian  to  the 
shade  of  a  tree,  but  to  the  surprise  of  both  he  drew 
himself  up,  refolded  his  blanket,  and  turned  his  back. 


THE    OUTBREAK.  255 

Cheviteau  was  quick  to  see  and  to  speak,  almost 
angrily  : 

"  Take  it  away  ;  "  then  turning  his  steps  towards  the 
office,  the  Indian  followed  him.  The  quick,  bold 
glance  of  the  one,  was  much  at  variance  with  the  calm 
manner  of  the  other  as  he  offered  a  pipe  ;  it  was  re 
fused. 

«  Big  —  Ian  —  you  —  heap  ?  " 

The  old  man  rose  from  his  seat  to  point  through  the 
open  window  to  the  far-off  line  of  his  estate,  miles 
away,  where  it  lay  close  upon  the  timber  of  the  tribe. 

"  Injin's —  you —  steal  um,"  said  the  chief,  looking 
over  the  trader's  shoulder,  and  hissing  his  words. 

"No  ;  "  answered  the  other  tirmly. 

"  No  steal  um  —  you." 

"  No,  me  heap  Ian." 

"  Injin,  he  —  no  —  go." 

"  No." 

"  Big  father,  —  you  —  tell  —  um." 

"What?" 

"  Injin  —  go  —  way." 

"No,"  the  trader  said,  with  a  glimpse  at  the  evil 
lodged  in  the  other's  mind,  "No;  me  Injin's  fren ; 
good  fren,  — me  no  lie." 

"  Good,"  was  the  reply  given  with  a  grunt. 

The  savage  was  about  to  leave  the  office  with  a  more 
friendly  disposition,  when  his  eye  searched  out  in  a 
corner  near  the  door,  the  compass  and  chain  which  the 
Judge,  in  the  trader's  absence,  had  placed  there. 

Cheviteau,  much  surprised,  not  knowing  that  these 


256  SNAP. 

harmless  tools  were  fraught  with  cruel  evils,  treated  the 
matter  lightly ;  but  on  sight  a  fiend  entered  the  soul 
of  his  foe.  As  the  trader  stooped  to  look  at  them, 
the  savage  clutched  his  tomahawk ;  he  would  have 
dealt  a  death-blow,  but  the  guard  looked  in  at  the 
window.  When  the  Colonel  raised  up,  the  chief  had 
stepped  aside,  and  casting  back  upon  him  a  look  of 
fierce  enmity  he  strode  out  of  the  room.  The  old  man 
shook  his  head. 

While  this  "talk"  took  place  at  the  post,  the  patrol 
at  a  distant  point  had  caught  thieves  with  cattle  belong 
ing  to  the  drove,  and  in  trying  to  reclaim  them  shots 
were  fired  and  an  Indian  killed. 

It  was  the  chief's  son. 

The  trader  closed  his  oifice  to  seek  his  daughter,  to 
whom  he  always  came  when  in  trouble,  to  borrow  a 
little  of  her  calm  courage. 

"  I  don't  like  the  looks  of  that  chief,  father,"  she 
said,  "  but  then,  we  have  nothing  to  fear,  for  we've 
tried  to  be  just  to  them." 

rf  Oh,  he's  like  all  of  em ;  they  hate  the  whites." 

A  commotion  in  the  camp  drew  their  eyes  in  that 
direction,  and  they  saw  the  scout  on  Kitty  turn  away, 
riding  with  mad  haste  towards  the  house. 

"  Sumpin's  gone  wrong,"  the  Colonel  said.  Beck 
drew  up  before  them,  and  getting  down,  he  said  to  his 
employer : 

"  Has  the  chief  been  heah?  " 

«  Yes." 

"  Tell  me  all  about  it ;    quick,  Peter." 


THE    OUTBREAK.  257 

Mary  stepped  down  from  the  porch,  and  alarmed  at 
the  scout's  manner,  she  laid  her  hand  on  his  arm,  as  if 
about  to  speak.  He  looked  into  the  pale  face  at  his 
side  and  said : 

"  Thau's  no  great  danger  now,  Mary." 

"  But  what  is  it?  "  she  asked. 

"  You'll  know  as  we  go  on  ;  how  was  it,  Peter?  " 

"  Well,  the  redskin  wanted  to  see  inside  the  ware 
houses." 

"Didn't  you  let  him?" 

«  No." 

"Wrong,  wrong,  Peter;  thar's  nothin  in  em,  and 
he'd  seen  thar  was  nothin  to  steal." 

"You  know  my  rule,  John." 

"  Go  on." 

"  I  brought  him  something  to  eat,"  said  Mary. 

"Didn't  he  take  it?" 

"  No  ;  he  refused  it  with  scorn." 

"  Bad." 

"  I  saw,"  Mary  added,  "  as  he  unfolded  his  blanket, 
the  black  and  red  stripes  on  his  breast." 

"  Bad  ;  —  war-paint." 

"  He  axed  me,"  said  her  father,  "  if  I  wanted  his 
lans." 

"  Go  on,  I  see." 

"  I  said  no." 

"  Well." 

"  He  was  moving  off,  when  he  seed  in  a  corner  that 
ar  compass  and  chain." 

"  What !     Who  put  em  thar  ?  " 


258  SNAP. 

"That's  what  kinder  puzzles  me;  the  Jedo-e,  I 
reckon." 

"  The  cold-blooded  idiot !     Whar  is  he  ?  " 

"  Gone  !  "  said  the  voice  of  Doctor  Tom,  who  had 
come  up  unnoticed  and  stood  before  them.  "Yes,  seh, 
the  shark  is  gone.  AVhat  have  I  told  you  all  along? 
You've  been  feeding  and  feasting  a  scoundrel  in  dis 
guise,  Peter ;  a  heartless  sneak,  who,  having  stirred 
the  hate  of  these  Indians  by  an  act  of  treachery  and  a 
mean,  secret  scheme,  has  left  us  to  bear  the  brunt." 
He  strode  off'  in  a  bad  humor. 

They  all  remembered  now  that  for  a  day  or  two  the 
Judge  had  not  been  seen  about  the  place.  He  had, 
after  months  of  waiting,  accomplished  his  purpose  and 
had  taken  the  first  boat  to  steal  away  from  the  hospita 
ble  house. 

"If  the  shark  was  heah,  I'd  hang  him,"  said  the 
scout,  stamping  the  earth  in  anger.  "  What  did  the 
chief  say  and  do  ?  " 

"  All  at  once,  with  a  face  as  black  as  a  cloud,  he  left 
the  office,  John." 

"  And  he's  raised  the  war-whoop  and  will  fio-ht  us 
Peter." 

"  Is  that  so  ?  " 

"True  as  you  live." 

"  What  do  yer  know,  John  ?     Tell  me  all." 

"  Twix  the  shark  and  the  pirate  it  has  been  brought 
about." 

"  I  treated  these  Injins  well." 


THE   OUTBREAK.  259 

"  So  you  did.  Even  Cartwright  couldn't  stir  em  up, 
till  this  pinch-faced  shyster  took  a  hand." 

ft  What  has  the  Jedge  been  do  in  ?  " 

"  Surveyi  u  their  lans,  and  the  thief  made  em  believe 
it  was  meant  to  steal  them  away." 

"  The  Judge  is  a  fool." 

"  A  fool !  that  Judge  is  as  bad  as  a  pirate." 

"  Can't  we  parley  with  em  ?  " 

"  No,  it's  too  late ;  while  you  and  the  chief  were 
talking,  his  son  was  shot  by  the  patrol." 

"  Shot !  I  told  the  patrol  never  to  fire  less  they  was 
fired  on." 

"  Jus  so  ;  they  were  fired  on,  and  they  fired  back  ;  I 
was  on  the  plains  when  all  this  was  going  on,  and  when 
I  came  in  sight  they  had  jes  brought  in  the  body,  and 
thar  was  a  big  rumpus.  You  could  heah  em,  Peter, 
for  a  mile.  I  saw  the  chief  when  he  came  back.  I 
saw  him  raise  his  tomahawk  before  the  tribe,  and  I 
fled.  Now,  Peter,"  —  he  added  slowly,  —  "  they'll  be 
down  on  us  like  h — 11  broke  loose."  > 

If  the  scout  had  thought  of  Mary's  presence,  he 
would  have  held  back  his  words.  She  was  still  stand 
ing  near  him  as  he  spoke,  biting  her  almost  bloodless 
lips. 

"What  must  I  do,  Mister  John?  Show  me  what  I 
must  do,  I  won't  flinch." 

"  Well,  Mary,"  he  answered,  and  taking  her  hand  in 
his,  he  led  her  to  the  door  of  the  house,  "  I'll  see  that 
you're  safe."  She  called  Chloe,  and  went  about  her 
work,  looking  sad,  but  calm. 


260  SNAP. 

"  John  Beck,"  said  the  old  man,  as  the  scout  joined 
him,  "this  hyar's  my  fight,  an  we'll  give  no  quarter. 
The  hound  fus  stole  my  chile,  then  he  struck  my 
trains,  slayed  the  men ;  now  he's  comin  down  on  us 
with  them  panthers.  I'se  got  no  marcy  in  my  heart.' 

"  Fight  we  must,  Peter,  and  fight  our  best,  for 
they're  more'n  five  to  one  of  us." 

"  Before  mornin  we  ken  hold  our  own  ;  they'll  have 
their  pow-wow  an  war-dance." 

rt  That'll  give  us  time  to  choke  em  off.  I'll  yoke  up 
the  teams."  The  scout  leaped  to  his  horse's  back  and 
rode  away. 

The  old  man  entered  his  house,  and  he,  who  but  an 
hour  before  had  shown  in  his  step  the  slow  but  sure  fail 
ing  of  age,  now  moved  with  a  firmer  tread ;  the  eyes, 
that  now  and  then  drooped  aweary,  shone  with  the 
sparkle  of  his  youth ;  changed,  as  by  magic,  the  face 
of  the  man  was  of  iron ;  the  lips  closed  tightly  over 
the  jutting  chin.  Throwing  down  his  coat  on  the 
porch,  he  hurried  through  the  hall  in  search  of  his 
daughter.  The  heavy,  riveted  shutters  were  closed 
and  barred,  and  a  dim  light  struggled  through  the 
round  loop-holes,  pierced  at  the  top.  He  found  Mary 
and  Chloe ;  in  every  corner  they  had  placed  muskets 
brought  from  the  attic  arsenal.  They  had  provisions 
at  hand,  and  candlesticks  and  candles  in  handy 
places. 

Mary  saw  the  change  in  her  parent's  face ;  she  threw 
her  arms  about  his  neck,  saying  : 

"Let  us  trust  in  God,  father;  that's  best." 


THE    OUTBREAK.  261 

He  drew  her  close  to  him,  with  a  fond  look ;  then  he 
spoke  to  Chloe  : 

"You're  a  good  soul,  old  woman,  an  I  won't  forget 
you,  neither." 

"  Oh,  sah,"  she  answered,  with  a  shake  of  her  head, 
"  ets  dat  chicken,  nuffin  else  ;  I  dun  tole  yer  so." 

On  going  out  again  he  met  Beck  coming  from  the 
camp  with  a  number  of  men,  and  his  horse  was  stand 
ing  ready  for  him. 

"  Scout,  I'll  start  the  drove  down  country,  an  let  the 
drivers  give  the  alarm  as  they  go." 

"  Right,  Peter." 

"  Have  you  yoked  up  ?  " 

tf  Yes,  I'll  send  the  stock  after  the  drove." 

"  Good." 

"Whar's  the  axes,  Peter?" 

"  In  number  three,  an  muskets  an  powder  enuf  fer 
a  rigiment,"  he  answered,  mounting  his  horse,  and 
then  galloped  off'. 

Loud  were  the  whip-snaps  as  the  train  came  up  in 
line ;  Beck's  commands  were  heard  above  the  din ,  and 
the  sound  of  the  axe  broke  in  upon  the  babel  of  voices. 
Standing  in  position  to  direct  its  movements,  with  his 
sleeves  rolled  to  the  elbows,  his  glossy  beard  filling  his 
open  collar,  and  his  form  drawn  to  its  full  height,  John 
Beck  looked  his  best. 

"  Lively,"  he  called  out ;  w  every  minit  counts." 

Again  the  whips  snapped  fiercely.  The  lead  team 
had  neared  the  space  between  the  office  and  adjoining 
house,  when  he  again  called  out : 


262  SNAP. 

"  Wheel  in  on  the  run." 

The  first  wagon  grazed  the  side  of  the  house,  the 
cattle  coming  into  the  circle,  and  when  on  line  with  its 
front,  he  ordered  : 

"Halt." 

They  were  then  filed  in,  one  after  the  other,  locking 
wheels,  until  the  space  between  the  two  houses,  begin 
ning  at  the  office,  was  compactly  closed  ;  all  the  spaces 
were  shut  up  in  this  way,  completing  a  circular  and 
strong  barricade  around  the  dwelling. 

While  this  was  in  progress  the  drive  of  the  cattle 
was  heard ;  the  vaqueros  spurring  hither  thither,  on 
the  road  to  the  river,  and  thick  clouds  of  dust  rose  and 
darkened  the  scene.  Cheviteau  was  seen  on  his  horse, 
and  when  the  drove  took  the  stream,  rising  the  oppo 
site  bank,  he  rode  back  to  the  post.  Beck  pushed  his 
work,  and  each  team  was  taking  its  place,  closing  up 
the  spaces. 

"Now  Peter,"  he  said,  in  haste,  "look  to  the 
wagons,  I'll  go  to  work  with  the  axes ;  heah,  come  on 
a  dozen  of  you ;  fall  to,  an  let  the  chips  fly." 

Beck  planted  his  heels  where  he  stood ;  he  raised 
his  arms  and  his  frame  swayed,  with  his  weight  and 
strength  combined ;  his  body  moving  on  a  pivot,  the 
axe  was  driven  to  the  eye  in  the  yielding  fibre,  and 
blocks  of  the  green,  juicy  wood,  flew  about  him. 

All  but  one  of  the  open  spaces  were  closed,  and 
Beck  now  hitched  his  teams  to  the  fallen  timber,  drag 
ging  it  to  the  barricade.  Long  and  strong  poles  were 
trimmed,  drawn  up  and  thrust  between  the  spokes  of 


THE    OUTBREAK.  263 

the  front  wheels,  the  ends  resting  against  the  storehouse 
fronts,  holding  each  wagon  from  being  drawn  back ; 
then  crotches  were  cut,  driven  into  the  ground  and  set 
against  the  front  axles  to  prevent  their  being  forced 
forward ;  they  were  thus  locked  and  blocked.  This 
done,  the  tree-tops  were  also  trimmed;  poles  were 
propped  against  the  houses  across  the  spaces  by  longer 
crotches,  planted  ;  then  the  brush  was  piled  above  the 
beds,  interlapped  between  the  poles  and  forced  into  a 
twisted  mass ;  the  abattis  of  sharp  points  reaching  to 
the  roofs. 

The  trader  had  ordered  his  patrol  forward  on  the 
plain  as  skirmishers,  to  fall  back  upon  a  sign  of  the 
enemy.  He  now  looked  about  to  every  need  of  the 
garrison,  and  with  a  squad  drove  to  the  river.  Filling 
his  casks,  on  his  return  two  oxen  were  slaughtered. 

Beck  had  thrown  open  the  warehouses  and  made 
openings  between  the  logs  for  the  muskets,  to  drive 
back  the  savage  with  his  torch.  He  found  an  old,  but 
good-sized  cannon,  which  had  been  bought  from  a 
wreck,  and  had  been  used  on  its  deck  as  a  swivel. 
Thrown  aside  as  junk,  Beck  now  put  it  to  use. 

The  road  to  the  house  from  the  river  was  deeply  cut 
into  the  bank,  a  wide  defile,  and  led  into  the  inclosure. 
Beck  thought  it  the  weakest  spot  of  his  defiance  to  the 
foe.  He  had  crossed  it  with  timbers  and  tree-tops, 
still  it  would  require  many  men  to  defend  it,  so  he 
masked  the  swivel  in  the  brush,  and  having  loaded  it, 
he  felt  sure  of  its  terrible  aid. 

Wagons  were  ranged  inside  of  the  barricade,  from 


264  SNAP. 

one  point  to  another  across  the  space,  in  front  of 
and  to  the  rear  of  the  dwelling,  in  two  lines,  between 
which  the  men  would  be  stationed,  and  where  their 
muskets  were  now  stacked. 

Cato  and  Chloe  worked  with  a  good  will  at  the  oven, 
and  Mary  overlooked  the  baking.  She  came  now  and 
then  to  the  door  of  the  cabin  to  gaze  about  her  with 
restless  eyes,  and  her  father  and  the  scout  saw  the  look 
with  doubt  and  pain. 

At  last,  as  the  work  was  done,  Beck  mounted  a 
wagon,  and  casting  down  his  hat  as  he  wiped  his  brow, 
he  said,  with  a  brave,  proud  smile  : 

"Now,  d — n  em,  they  can  come  ;  —  boys,  take  rest." 


THE  ATTACK— THE  BUGLE-BLAST.  265 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

THE   ATTACK THE    BUGLE-BLAST. 

As  Beck  threw  down  his  hat,  ordering  his  men  to 
take  rest,  Mary  rushed  from  the  cabin  kitchen,  to  make 
her  way,  in  haste,  to  the  mare. 

"  We've  forgotten  the  women  and  children ;  come 
along,  Mister  John." 

In  another  moment  she  mounted  Kitty,  and  rode 
off  through  the  one  opening  in  the  barricade.  The 
scout  on  the  trader's  horse,  rode  after  her. 

Arriving  at  the  hamlet  she  soon  stilled  the  fears  of 
the  camp-folk,  and  taking  up  a  babe  from  a  mother 
who  had  a  number  of  little  ones  clinging  about  her, 
she  placed  the  young  rogue  on  the  saddle-bow 
with  its  smiling  face  turned  wonderingly  up  to  her 
own.  She  led  the  crowd  to  the  house  within  the  safer 
limits  of  the  fortified  inclosure,  and  found  that  her 
father  had  served  to  the  wearied  men  a  substantial 
meal.  They  loaded  their  guns  as  they  ate.  The  use 
of  buckshot  and  slugs  was  a  sign  of  close,  hot  work 
at  short  range. 

In  the  dwelling  Mary  looked  to  the  comfort  and 
needs  of  her  small  colony  ;  the  rooms  were  turned  into 
a  camp.  In  her  dread,  that  the  house  might  finally  be 
made  —  as  the  fight  grew  to  be  desperate  and  the 


266  SNAP. 

numbers  of  the  foe  overpowering  —  a  place  of  retreat 
or  last  resort,  she  put  the  women  to  work,  and  cleared 
away  every  convenient  space  for  full,  free  action. 
This  done,  they  sat  down  in  silence,  listening  for  the 
yell  of  the  foe,  and  the  crack  of  the  rifle. 

Leading  a  few  of  the  feebler  children  to  her  own 
room,  Mary  placed  them  on  the  bed  to  be  cared  for 
by  their  mothers.  In  a  corner  of  the  room,  on  a 
stand,  rested  the  old  family  Bible.  She  had  brought 
with  her  a  musket,  which  she  took  up  and  held  to  the 
dim  tlame  of  the  candle.  Handling  it  firmly  the  light 
flared  and  threw  a  fitful  gleam  on  the  features  of  the 
heroic  girl. 

"  An  wat  wud  ye  be  doin  wid  the  gun,  chile  ?  "  asked 
a  tremulous  voice  in  the  darkness. 

"  Heaven  only  grant  that  I  need  not  do  anything ; 
but,  if  I  must  defend  these  babes  from  the  knife,  with 
God's  help,  I'll  use  it." 

She  placed  the  gun  near  the  Bible  stand,  and  passed 
out  into  the  hall.  The  Doctor's  parrot  followed  her ; 
the  patter  of  its  feet  on  the  bare  hall-floor  and  the 
screech  of  its  broken  voice  were  dismal  sounds  in  the 
solemn  peace  of  the  place. 

All  the  day  long,  at  the  Indian  village,  the  worst 
excess  of  the  savage  orgies  was  kept  to  the  height  of 
fury.  The  dead  brave  was  borne  from  the  cattle  foray 
on  the  shoulders  of  his  fellows.  They  strode  into  the 
dark,  damp,  leaf-covered  abode  stealthily,  through  lines 
of  wailing  squaws,  stared  at  by  eyes  "  snapping  fire." 
Hours  were  given  to  the  wild,  weird  rites  over  the 


THE  ATTACK—  THE  BUGLE-BLAST.  9(37 

slain  ;  the  chant  of  a  few  old  women  was  caught  up 
in  the  shouts  of  the  crazed  wretches.  Fires  high- 
heaped  flamed  aloft,  and  the  furies  leaped  about  them, 
blackening  their  bodies  with  cinders.  Through  it  all, 
now  and  again,  was  heard  the  shriller  war-whoop  ;  the 
wolf-growl  of  the  beasts.  The  chief  sat  apart,  a 
moody  ringleader  of  the  blood-thisting  crew ;  he  was 
silent,  conning  the  cruelest  wiles  to  slay.  The  corpse 
was  given  up,  and  as  the  stars  came  out  one  by  one, 
the  embers  of  the  pyre  grew  gray. 

The  savage  rose,  motioned  to  form  a  council  of  his 
braves,  and  they  came  together  squatting  in  an  inner 
circle  of  the  wider  one  of  the  tribe  beyond.  The 
chosen  few  were  ranged  near  him,  to  whom  he  drew 
the  picture  of  a  midnight  slaughter ;  his  appeal 
drew  them  closer,  standing  on  their  feet,  to  join  the 
onset,  knife  in  hand.  The  thief  looked  on ;  each 
painted  ruffian  held  the  best  improved  fire-arm  of  the 
pirate's  traffic.  The  hour  of  his  vengeance  drew 
nigh. 

Beck  and  the  trader  had  mounted  to  the  outlook, 
and  watched  during  the  long  hours  after  dark.     Just 
at  midnight  patrol-firing  was  heard ;  the  scout  leaped 
from  his  post,  stepped  into  the  camp  and  ordered  the 
men  in  place.     The   old   man  followed  him,  standing 
near  the  opening  to  be  ready  to  close  it  up  as  the 
mounted  men  rode  in,  and  as  they  passed  in  a  squad 
fell  to  work  and  blocked  the  gap. 
All  heah?"  asked  Beck. 
All,"  they  answered. 


268  SNAP. 

"  Down  and  tie  up  behind  the  wagons,"  he  ordered. 

"  Is  the  redskin  near  ?  "  asked  the  trader. 

"Right  on  us,"  they  said. 

"  Light  the  beacon,"  commanded  the  scout,  and  soon 
the  flames  flashed  upon  the  black  curtain  of  the  dark 
ness. 

In  the  house,  the  watchers  waited  with  beating 
hearts. 

"Hark,"  whispered  a  voice,  "did  yees  hear  the 
guns?" 

In  the  dim,  restless  light  of  the  candle,  Mary  rose 
and  listened ;  listened  till  her  face  by  the  awful  still 
ness  paled,  grew  sadder,  whiter,  as  she  stood  intent  and 
breathless.  Calmly  she  knelt  down,  saying: 

"  We  will  pray  ;  "  and  about  her  they  knelt,  even 
the  little  ones,  turning  their  eyes  in  awe  upon  her  form, 
her  gentle  features,  as  upon  one  sent  to  shield  them. 

Save  in  the  snapping  of  a  twig  the  cat-like  step  of 
the  foe  was  unheard ;  there  was  a  spell-bound  hush  in 
the  pause  of  caution.  Through  the  screen  of  the  wagons 
the  eyes  of  the  men  were  bent  upon  the  barricade. 
The  savages  had  crept  from  the  council-fire,  and  they  lay 
in  sight  of  the  white  man's  magic  reared  to  foil  them. 
Vexed  to  madness  at  what  he  saw,  the  chief  gnashed 
his  teeth,  for,  fearing  his  tribe,  who  would  turn  and 
rend  him  on  the  least  sign  of  cowardice,  he  was  com 
pelled  to  fight.  Whispering  the  signal,  he  took  his 
stand  on  a  knoll,  that  his  voice  might  reach  each  sec 
tion  of  the  tribe.  Then  in  the  silence  that  dwelt  around 
the  low-breathing  camps,  broke  in  the  challenge  ;  three 


THE  ATTACK— THE   BUGLE-BLAST.  269 

shrieks  sped  by  an  infernal  chorus.  And  now  the 
barriers  swayed  to  the  wild  tiger-like  assault ;  the 
devils  let  loose  sprang  to  the  wagons  ;  they  tugged  at 
the  wheels,  leaped  to  the  abattis,  strained  at  the  twisted 
tree-tops  ;  through  every  gap  and  crevice  whizzed  their 
balls  and  arrows  ;  they  yelled  like  hungry  demons, 
snarled  like  wolves,  and  heaped  and  pent  upon  the 
outer  circle,  they  swarmed  like  ants. 

Now  was  heard  the  sturdy  voice  of  Beck  : 

"  Ready  —  fire  !  "  Every  gun  replied  ;  the  rattling 
shot,  the  singing  slugs  tore  through  the  squirming 
mass  ;  they  fell  in  scores. 

Outside  there  was  a  scurry  of  many  feet,  and  the 
tribe  drew  back ;  then  after  a  brief  halt,  with  shrill 
and  flurried  shrieks,  the  redskins  threw  themselves 
again  upon  the  barricade  ;  they  rushed  to  the  attack 
through  the  blood- wet  grass,  they  climbed  on  the 
bodies  of  the  slain,  scaled  the  housetops,  hurled  the 
tomahawk,  and  sent  a  shower  of  arrows ;  some  crept 
under  the  wagons  and  fired  ;  they  fired  from  the  roofs. 

Once  more,  the  calm,  loud  voice  : 

"  Ready  —  fire  !  "  Again  the  guns  of  the  white  men 
rattled ;  it  was  a  deadly  chorus  ;  a  summons  of  awful 
meaning,  and  the  balls  cut  through  with  a  singing  hiss  ; 
the  foe  fell  until  all  about  the  outer  side  of  the  defense 
they  lay  in  heaps.  The  chief  forced  the  fight,  hurling 
his  bands  in  reckless  haste  upon  the  barricade,  only  to 
be  slaughtered.  It  was  hot,  close,  mortal  work,  such 
as  the  Indian  knew  little  about,  save  that  in  his  mad 
ness  he  fought  like  a  wild  beast,  and  fearing  that  some 


270  SNAP. 

agency  of  the  daylight  might  bring  succor  to  the 
whites,  he  fought  on.  They  strained  with, desperate 
strength  to  tear  away  the  twisted,  web-woven  lattices  of 
green  boughs  ;  they  were  bent  and  borne  down  in 
many  places  by  the  weight  hurled  upon  them,  but  they 
would  not  break,  and  as  they  leaped  in  bands  to  the 
wagons,  Beck's  voice  rang  out  : 

"Ready  — fire!" 

Foiled  with  heavy  losses,  driven  back  at  every 
assault,  the  chief  drew  away  his  stricken  tribe. 

"Stand  fast,  men,  thar's  more  to  come,"  said  Beck, 
as  he  placed  his  men  under  the  trader's  .orders,  and 
hastened  to  the  house.  Here  he  put  guards  at  the 
doors,  that  they  might  be  kept  open,  in  case  he  had 
need  to  fall  back  and  take  shelter  behind  them. 

The  sounds  of  the  struggle  had  gone  out  far  beyond 
the  post ;  every  surge  of  the  angry  river  caught  up  the 
crash  of  the  guns,  mingling  with  the  yells  of  the  horde, 
and  bore  them  away  for  miles.  They  were  heard  by 
the  "  Pioneer's  "  captain,  who  stood  still  and  listened 
long.  Again  he  heard  the  crack  of  the  muskets  louder 
than  before,  and  he  ordered  silence  on  deck.  Now  the 
far-away  volley  came  clearly  to  his  ears. 

"Did  you  hear  that,  Carver?"  he  said  to  his  clerk. 

"  I  heard  it,  captain." 

"  What  do  you  make  it  out  to  be  ?  " 

"  Don't  know,  sir,  but  I  fear—  " 

"  Well,  your  fears  ;  quick." 

"  Then  Cheviteau's  post  is  struck  by  the  Indians ; 
that's  my  belief." 


THE  ATTACK— THE  BUGLE-BLAST.  271 

The  d— 1,"  he  answered,  in  his  rude,  off-hand  manner, 
"we  must  take  a  hand," 

On  the  lower  deck  he  said  to  his  mate  : 

"  Send  the  gang  aft." 

"Who,  Captain?" 

"  The  roustabouts,  be  quick." 

When  they  came  to  him,  and  he  had  drawn  the 
rough  crowd  around  him,  he  first  warmed  up  their 
courage  with  a  friendly  grog,  and  had  stirred  their 
mettle  with  an  oath  or  two,  when  he  told  them  that  the 
savage  was  at  his  hellish  trade,  and  the  defenseless 
trader  at  his  mercy.  He  was  answered  by  a  shout. 
The  captain  steamed  up  till  the  boiler  hummed,  and 
dropped  his  landing  plank  on  the  wharf.  Under  the 
bluff  he  had  moved  along  unseen  by  the  Indians, 
unheard  in  the  clamor  of  the  fight. 

"  Go,  voung  man,"  he  said  to  Carver,  who  had  volun 
teered  to  lead,  "you  owe  this  to  your  old  employer; 
go,  and  you'll  never  need  a  friend  while  I  live." 

Jumper  led  noiselessly  up  the  roadway  at  the  head 
of  the  crew.  The  captain  stayed  by  his  craft,  as  he  was 
in  honor  bound.  Tim  Murphy,  with  a  lighted  torch, 
stood  at  the  swivel,  and  catching  a  glimpse  of  the 
steamer's  lights,  and  hearing  the  English  of  those  who 
drew  near,  he  let  them  pass  under  the  logs. 

"  Who's  this? ''  cried  Beck,  as  the  young  man  stood 
before  him. 

"  It's  me,  —  Jumper." 

"Jumper;  well  done,  boy." 

"Where's  the  Colonel?" 


272  SNAP. 

"Come  here."  The  scout  went  with  him  to  the 
trader. 

"  Here  I  am,  sir,"  he  said  to  the  old  man ;  "  I've 
come,  and  have  brought  help  with  me  to  do  what  I  can 
in  the  fight." 

"An  I  like  you  for  it,  Harry  ;  it's  right  manly  in  you 
to  come;  put  him  to  work,  scout;  but  mind,  lad,  it's 
death  work." 

"  Come  heah,  Jumper ;  bring  your  men,"  said  Beck. 
Carver  had  jumped  at  the  chance  to  regain  the  good 
will  of  the  trader;  he  had  felt  abashed  from  the  day  he 
left  the  post,  and  the  scout  now  stationed  him  at  the 
swivel,  with  his  men  filed  behind  in  the  brush,  on 
guard  over  the  road.  As  Beck  turned  away,  the 
sudden  alarm  of  the  crowd  stayed  his  steps. 

"Look  there,"  said  one.     A  bright  red  flame-flare 
fell  upon  the  camp ;  it  lighted  the  wide  expanse,  and  a 
stream  of  light,  thrown  back  from  the  hamlet  of  cabins, 
disclosed  them  all  ablaze.     In  the  glow  of  their  burn 
ing  homes  the  men  saw  the  red  foe,  a  countless  swarm, 
ten  to  one  of  them  they  seemed,  piling  the  fagots  and 
leaping  from  house  to  house.     The  keen  sight  of  the 
scout  singled  out  the  chief;  at  his  side  was  Cartwright, 
the  evil  spirit  of  this  terrible,  hell-bred  madness,  who 
urged  him  on.     And  now  as  the  flames  rolled  up  out 
of  the  darkness,  they  drew  from  gray-capped  clouds  the 
gleams  of  day ;   morning  burst  upon  a  scene  of  blood, 
of  smoke  and  ruin. 

The  dawn-light  turned  the  savages  to  another  on 
slaught  ;  the  scout  saw  that  the  pirate  had  planned  it. 


THE  ATTACK— THE  BUGLE-BLAST.  273 

One  section  of  the  tribe,  led  by  the  chief,  moved  along 
to  the  front  of  the  inclosure.  They  came  on  in  a  run, 
and  the  raking  fire  ordered  by  Beck  checked  them  but 
an  instant;  they  passed  on  at  safe  distance,  around  to 
the  left  of  the  barricade,  to  crouch  behind  a  building,  t 
which  the  scout  had  found  locked. 

"  See,  Peter,"  he  said,  "  they'll  burn  that  storehouse 
to  make  a  breach." 

"  They  ken  do  it,  John  ;  but  jes  look  out." 

"For  what?" 

The  trader  bent  his  head  to  the  other's  ear  and 
whispered  ;  his  face  grew  dark  as  he  spoke  : 

"It's  full  of  powder,  man." 

"  But  the  men  —  " 

He  strode  off  to  each  armed  group  of  his  brave 
fellows,  cautioned  them  in  haste,  and  moved  the  wagons 
in  readiness  to  bar  the  gap. 

The  Indians  clung  close  about  the  house  ;  a  few  ran 
off,  and  the  scout  said  : 

"  They've  gone  for  wood  to  light  the  fire." 

Creeping  back  from  cover  to  cover,  those  who 
bore  the  fuel  for  the  fated  building  stole  from  bush  to 
bush  under  a  galling  fire  ;  a  few  fell,  some  fled,  but  a 
number  reached  the  powder-house.  Soon  the  roarirg 
of  the  flames  was  heard,  and  on  the  margin  of  the 
black,  close  cloud  of  smoke,  the  pirate  and  the  chief 
were  seen.  The  lingering  climax  of  the  fight  was  the 
slow  burning  fire. 

On  the  floor  of  the  magazine  grains  of  powder  lay 
scattered,  by  careless  handling,  much  like  a  bait  to  a 


274  SNAP. 

hidden  trap,  and  as  the  blaze  lapped  the  bark  and 
crept  through  each  chink  and  crevice,  a  lighted  coal 
dropped  down.  There  was  a  sound  of  thunder,  a 
cloud-burst  tremble  of  the  air,  earthquake  and  storm, 
and  through  the  battle-smoke  and  the  sunshine  a  thou 
sand  flaming  splinters  fell,  like  a  miracle  ;  the  rent  frame 
reeled  and  came  down,  the  barrier  was  broken.  Clan 
after  clan  sprang  on  the  blackened  ruin  in  the  teeth  of 
an  enfilade  of  slug  and  buck-shot;  files  aimed  and 
fired ;  others  toiled  with  amazing  strength  and  closed 
the  break  with  wagons  ;  the  Colonel  cheered  "  his  boys," 
his  white  head  seen  above  their  line. 

JSTow  a  yell  rang  through  the  swivel-guarded  defile, 
and  Carver  saw  a  horde  leap  into  the  roadway,  coming 
on  with  knife  and  tomahawk  —  along  the  bluff  line 
from  right  and  left— to  tear  away  his  ambush  and 
strike  him  down.  He  had  but  time  to  snatch  a  coal 
and  fire  the  cannon  ;  a  stern,  terrific  sweep  it  was, 
hurled  by  the  rusty  piece.  The  pass  was  choked  with 
the  dead  and  dying;  still  another  band  leaped  into  the 
gorge,  while  the  whites  with  frantic  haste  reloaded,  as 
the  Indians,  crowding  close,  came  on  again.  Carver 
touched  the  match  and,  boy-like,  cheered ;  his  men 
once  more  seized  the  swivel  to  repeat ;  the  foe  in 
crowds  gained  ground,  firing  as  their  numbers  doubled  ; 
they  pressed  hard.  Torch  in  hand,  in  the  flush  of 
youthful  pride,  the  young  man  fired  his  gun  again, 
leaping  to  the  front  to  see  the  havoc  of  its  loud 
mouthed  vengeance.  He  waved  his  hat  —  rash  fellow  ! 
A  dozen  rifles  covered  his  form,  and  in  an  instant 


THE  ATTACK  — THE  BUGLE-BLAST.  275 

stricken  down,  he  fell  into  the  arms  of  the  .scout,  who 
reposed  the  lifeless  body  and  covered  it  with  his 
blouse. 

The  swarm  bore  down  the  tree  tops,  but  the  deck 
hands  were  an  ugly  lot  to  handle.  Caught  at  large  on 
the  wharves  of  the  western  cities,  they  were  no  mean 
,  hand-to-hand  fighters  ;  they  fought  with  sheath-knives, 
clubs  and  musket-butts,  and  one,  a  buffer,  struck  out 
from  the  shoulder,  felling  his  man  at  every  blow.  Beck 
was  in  the  thick  of  it ;  he  had  borne  the  brunt  all  day, 
and  hemmed  in,  his  form  rose  up  like  a  giant's,  his 
voice  calm,  but  his  strength  prodigious.  Once  he  was 
seen  to  seize  a  savage  bodily,  and  dash  him  with  a 
deadly  force  back  into  the  pass. 

Loud  screams  were  now  heard  coming  from  the 
house,  the  cry  of  the  little  ones  and  the  shrill,  pleading 
voices  of  the  women.  Beck's  grip  relaxed,  the  brave 
man's  heart  was  stilled  ;  breaking  through  the  lines  of 
hate-hot  men,  he  ran  wildly  to  the  door  of  the  dwell 
ing. 

A  few  of  the  red  dare-devils  stole  to  the  porch, 
climbed  it,  passed  through  the  windows  and  down  to 
the  floor  below,  and  as  the  scout  forced  his  form  into 
the  hall  he  helped  the  guards  to  fight  back  the  intruders  ; 
he  saw  them  driven  to  the  field  ;  all  but  one.  At  the 
door  of  Mary's  room  a  long-remembered  sight  thrilled 
him ;  a  tall,  fear-stricken  savage  drew  back  amazed ; 
within  the  darkened  place,  where  the  low  light  of  the 
caudle  flared,  Beck  saw  a  group  of  babes  behind  the 
form  of  Mary  ;  she  stood  still,  poised  like  a  marble 


276  SNAP. 

image,  her  long  black  hair  uncoiled  and  her  dark  eyes 
fixed  upon  the  lean,  cold  steel  of  the  musket.  Not  a 
tremor  of  her  little  white  hands,  not  a  twitch  in  the 
sad,  rigid  face,  not  a  muscle  moved ;  a  death-like, 
daring  moment ;  the  travail  of  a  woman's  strength,  the 
acine  of  human  courage. 

The  Indian  leaped  through  the  door  and  was  gone ; 
Beck,  speaking  fast,  said  : 

"  Well  Mary  !  —  good  God  ;  stand  fast,  you're  worth 
a  hundred  men  ;  it'll  soon  be  over ;  "  he,  too,  was  gone, 
for  the  fi^ht  lagged  without  him. 

O  CO 

At  the  garret  window,  during  all  this  fatal  turmoil, 
the  parrot  looked  on,  and  in  a  loud,  cross  screech, 
cried  out : 

"  Stop't  —  Mary  —  stop't  —  stop't," 

In  a  corner  near  by  the  imp  had  crept  behind  a  bed, 
the  space  that  held  him  smaller  than  his  proper  self, 
and  never  before  had  spook  or  witch  so  paled  the 
color  of  his  skin. 

Doctor  Tom  was  busy ;  many  were  wounded,  many 
slain ;  he  turned  the  storerooms  into  hospitals,  as 
they  brought  the  brave  fellows  to  him,  one  by  one. 
He  was  seen  here  and  there  with  lint  and  bandage,  and 
now  and  then  his  face  grew  almost  black  with  rage ; 
they  heard  his  whispered  wrath. 

"  D  —  n  shark  ;  curse  him." 

At  the  gap  where  the  trader  fought  there  was  des 
perate  fighting ;  there  the  thief  skulked,  watched  with 
eager  eyes,  and  as  the  Colonel's  "boys"  fell  back  to 
load  their  guns,  he  made  a  dash,  tripped  the  old  man's 


THE  ATTACK— THE  BUGLE-BLAST.  277 

feet  and  fell  upon  him  heavily.  As  he  raised  his  knife 
a  hundred  hands  seized  him ;  they  lashed  him  to  a 
wheel,  and  but  for  the  scout  they  would  have  shot  him 
to  death.  Hurt  deeply,  the  Colonel  on  rising  reeled 
like  a  drunken  man  ;  helped  on  by  Tim,  he  dragged  his 
feet  to  the  house.  Mary  saw  him  coming  : 

"Father,  lather,  are  you  shot?"  As  she  spoke,  her 
cheek  was  paler  than  when  the  savage  came  upon  her. 

"No,  chile,"  he  said,  feebly;  "in  here,  in  here," 
and  entering  a  door,  he  fell  upon  a  bed  in  a  faint. 

The  redskins  drew  back  for  the  final  rally,  and  were 
divided  as  before,  into  two  bands.  The  sleuth-hounds 
sprang  from  cover,  with  the  cry  of  a  hungry  pack. 
Again  they  tugged  at  the  abattis  ;  again  they  choked 
the  narrow  channel,  and  the  larger  band,  led  by  the 
chief,  made  a  last  and  furious  onset.  The  tug  had 
come  ;  the  odds  against  the  whites  began  to  tell  in  the 
hoarse  cries  of  the  infuriated  men,  as  they  fell,  and  the 
scout  be^an  to  feel  the  cold  chill  of  doubt : 

"Ready! " 

Hark  !  Like  a  voice  from  heaven,  a  bugle's  note 
was  heard  faintly  in  the  far  bright  distance  ;  louder 
and  louder  on  the  air  it  sped  its  challenge. 

Mary  heard  it ;  she  ran  to  the  porch  and  in  an 
ecstasy  of  hope  she  climbed  upon  a  wagon,  her  hair 
the  sport  of  the  wind ;  she  clapped  her  hands,  waved 
them  over  the  head  of  Cartwright. 

The  savages  broke  away  ;  Beck  drew  himself  up  to 
the  tree  tops,  and  the  men  saw  a  troop  of  horsemen 
swooping  down  upon  them. 


278  SNAP. 

"Thank  God,"  he  cried,  as  he  threw  up  his  hat; 
"Hoop-ee,  Bob  Harkness  is  on  hand." 

On  came  the  furious  riders,  sweeping  the  plain, 
tearing  down  upon  the  fleeing  redskins,  firing  their 
pistols  with  shouts,  their  horses  leaping  to  the  charge 
with  snort  and  kick,  unreined.  The  men  within  the 
barricade  laid  down  their  arms  to  listen. 

And  now  Beck  heard  the  old  familiar  war-cry, 
"  Draw  —  sabres  I  "  and  he  knew  that  the  agony  was 
over. 


TWO  DEATHS— BECK'S  DUTY,  279 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

TWO  DEATHS  —  BECK'S  DUTY. 

Captain  Harkness  rode  up  to  meet  the  scout. 

"  Who  sent  you  to  us  ?  " 

"  Good  luck,  I  reckon,  Beck." 

"  What  brought  you  in  from  the  fort,  Captain?  " 

"  They  say  I  have  slaughtered  women  and  children  ;  " 
the  rich,  round  laugh  was  tinged  with  scorn. 

"They  lie,  I'll  swear,"  said  Beck,  and  while  he 
thought  upon  the  recall  of  so  good  an  officer,  he  knew 
that  some  confederate  of  the  Judge  had  aided  it,  and 
that  the  charge  against  him  was  an  old  slander  of  the 
sharks  and  pirates. 

"I'll  camp  my  men,  Beck." 

"  Down  and  let  'em  shake  the  kinks  out." 

"  Not  now."  As  the  troop  moved  away  one  of  the 
riders  said  to  his  file  : 

rf  They'se  had  a  high  old  time,  them  boys." 

Beck  with  his  doubts  alive  as  to  the  trader's  condi 
tion,  wrote  a  line  to  Whack,  and  sent  it  with  the  Cap 
tain's  despatches  by  the  "Pioneer." 

The  worn-out  men  had  stretched  themselves  to  rest 
about  the  barricade,  and  Beck  borne  down  alike,  threw 
himself  on  the  ground ;  as  the  stars  shed  a  pale  light 
on  the  camp  where  the  day  had  seen  the  flames  of 


280  SNAP. 

strife,  sleep  enthralled  him  where  he  lay.  Late  in  the 
night  Mary  came  to  the  door  to  catch  the  sweet,  cool 
breeze  from  the  plain,  and  saw  the  huge  form  lying  at 
full  length ;  she  went  out  to  look  upon  the  brave  giant 
as  he  slept  like  a  big,  overgrown  boy  ;  she  turned 
about  hastily  and  came  again  with  a  robe,  which  she 
spread  over  the  sleeper  with  gentle  care.  She  sat  for 
the  rest  of  the  night,  with  the  Doctor,  at  her  father's 
bedside. 

Just  after  the  fight,  the  threats  of  the  men,  over 
heard  by  Beck,  cautioned  him  that  the  thief  might  be 
lynched,  and  fearing  it,  he  laid  hold  on  Cartwright, 
saying : 

"  Come  with  me  ;  you'll  swing  for  this  business,  if  I 
have  to  ride  a  hundred  miles." 

Forcing  the  pirate  ahead  of  him  to  the  haunted 
cabin,  he  there  bound  him  to  the  logs  inside,  and 
placed  an  armed  teamster  on  guard. 

The  night  to  the  wretch  had  been  one  of  sore  trial ; 
in  the  ghasiliness  of  his  guilt  his  fears  of  the  super 
natural  took  strange  and  hideous  forms,  and  the  dying 
out  of  an  unnatural  strength  from  strong  drink,  left 
him  in  the  throes  of  a  fevered  brain.  Every  sound 
that  came  to  his  ears  resembled  the  tramp  of  some  one 
he  feared  ;  he  raved  with  deadly  blasphemy,  and  en 
dured  the  ferocity  of  suffering.  The  scout's  strong 
hands  had  tied  his  arms  and  fettered  his  ankles.  What 
might  rise  in  judgment  before  his  captive,  Beck  had 
not  thought  of,  but  the  darkest  dungeon  never  con 
jured  spectres  such  as  came  to  haunt  the  prisoner's 


TWO  'DEATHS— BECKYS  DUTY.  281 

vision  ;  sights  which  only  the  besotted  ever  see.  Out 
of  the  ruined  chimney-place  came  an  accusing  spirit  in 
the  grave-shroud,  and  Cartwright  cowered  like  a 
shrinking  dog.  Throwing  up  his  arms  in  piteous 
fright,  great  drops  of  sweat  fell  from  him ;  he  dragged 
at  his  cords. 

In  the  summer  storm  a  poor,  drenched  outcast 
crept  from  bush  to  bush.  The  troopers  had  met  him  far 
out  on  the  prairie,  as  they  rode  in  a  slow  trot  coming 
East,  but  he  was  then  so  common  a  sight  to  all  who 
travelled  the  road,  they  would  have  passed  him  by 
but  for  his  pitiful  pleading.  When  they  gave  ear  to 
his  words,  they  heard  that  the  post  was  attacked,  and 
throwing  him  bread  from  their  haversacks,  with  a 
shout  they  sprang  forward  on  the  run.  Fast  as  his 
limbs  could  move  he  followed  them. 

Far  aloft  in  gloomy  grandeur  the  storm-clouds  rose  ; 
curve  sweeping  curve  to  towering  peak  darkening 
deeper  and  blacker ;  the  lightning  glared  on  the 
shadowy  cloud-cliffs  and  sharp-lined  slopes,  and  now 
its  hot  floods  rolled  like  lava ;  the  winds  came  and  a 
howling  chaos  of  rain  and  flame  caught  up  the  wan 
derer  like  one  consumed  in  fire.  From  its  fury  he 
had  stolen  near  the  cabin,  and  when  the  shower  was 
spent  he  stood  near  enough  to  be  heard  in  his  mut 
tering  : 

"Just  sixteen  years  to-day,"  —  he  paused  ;  "  and  she 
was  just  sixteen,"  —  he  paused  again  ;  "  and  then  that 
viper  came.  Come  clown,  come  down,  give  me  strength 
to  smite  —  to  slay."  Now  tugging  at  his  girdle  he  drew 


282  SNAP. 

forth  the  trooper's  pistol,  looked  at  it  closely  as  time 
and  time  again  he  had  done,  since  he  found  it. 

Now  the  sun  shone  brightly  and  the  scout  had  calle^ 
the  prison  guard  to  breakfast ;  he  was  about  to  take  tl 
man's  place  when  the  trader  sent  for  him. 

Among  the  ruins  of  his  former  home  lurked  the 
crazy  tramp.  He  gazed  upon  them,  his  sight  resting 
on  the  form  of  Cartvvright,  and  in  imagination  he  saw 
the  demon  of  his  long  years  of  misery.  For  the 
moment  it  was  an  insane  vagary,  for  the  thief s  silence 
fed  the  delusion.  The  wanderer  fell  to  work  to  dispel 
it  by  lighting  a  fire. 

Every  chance  meeting  of  the  thief  with  his  fright  had 
been  such  as  to  increase  his  fears,  and  to  strengthen  his 
belief  in  a  ghost;  he  had  crossed  the  lunatic's  path 
suddenly  at  all  times,  in  places  lonely  and  obscure,  and 
was  halted  by  him  with  startling  threats.  Now  the 
dread  presence  that  he  feared  the  most  had  come  upon 
him,  and  he  was  held  by  thongs  that  would  not  yield  ; 
it  glared  at  him  and  seemed  to  gloat  upon  his  plight. 
Where  he  stood  he  seemed  drawn  to  the  horror ;  then 
with  all  his  strength  he  tugged  and  strained  again,  like 
an  animal  entrapped  ;  worn  down,  his  head  fell  like  a 
bull's  ;  he  swore  aloud.  The  fire  was  kindled  at  the 
log  to  which  the  rope  that  held  him  was  fastened,  but 
his  tongue* let  slip  his  only  chance  of  escape. 

While  the  scout  stayed  with  her  father,  Mary  made  up 
her  mind  to  visit  the  prisoner;  she  had  filled  her  bas 
ket,  and  under  the  napkin,  resting  on  ripe  fruit,  was 


TWO  DEATHS— BECK'S  DUTY.  283 

laid  the  Bible  ;  she  was  near  the  ruin,  when,  looking 
up,  she  saw  the  smoke  and  heard  high  words. 

The  curses  of  the  pirate,  his  voice,  his  manner  and 
his  face  awakened  the  wild  man's  Avits  ;  in  a  lucid  instant 
he  saw  writhing  before  his  eyes  the  living,  actual 
tiu'ng  his  hate  had  held  to  for  long,  long  years ;  he 
snatched  his  pistol  and  leaped  to  the  cabin  door.  Just 
then  the  rope  that  held  the  prisoner  parted ;  he  sprang 
up,  loosed  his  toils,  and  drew  one  free  breath,  —  one 
only.  There  was  a  snap,  a  flash ;  the  dull  thud  of  a 
fallen  body.  Strengthless  and  bloody  it  lay  stricken  in 
its  full  force  ;  the  limbs  flexed,  an  outstretched  arm ; 
dead  as  one  before  the  flood  —  dead  as  a  stone.  In 
the  smoke  of  his  weapon  stood  the  unhappiest  among 
the  living ;  the  fire  of  his  passion  out,  the  ashes  cold 
and  gray  on  his  heart. 

Mary  cried  for  help,  and  turned  from  the  sight, 
shading  her  face ;  the  scout  soon  joined  her,  he 
glanced  at  the  victim  and  the  slayer. 

"  Bad  as  the  worst  may  be,  Mister  John,"  said  the 
voice  at  his  side,  (f  He  pitied  and  forgave." 

ff  As  you  say,  Mary,"  he  answered,  then  turning  and 
taking  her  hand,  he  led  her  away. 

The  crowd  seized  and  bound  the  lunatic,  and  hardly  a 
word  was  spoken,  for  the  majesty  of  death  was  terribly 
enthroned  on  the  lifeless  trunk. 

"  Thou  dost  avenge, 

In  thy  good  time,  the  wrongs  of  those  who  know 
No  other  friend ; 

The  wicked  but  for  Thee 
Had  been  too  strong  for  the  good  of  earth." 


284  SNAP. 

Captain  Harkness  and  his  men  left  the  post,  taking 
with  them  the  wild  man,  to  be  placed  in  an  asylum  at 
Saint  Louis. 

Some  weeks  further  on  Lu  and  Whack  —  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Charles  Marshall  —  arrived  by  boat. 

Mary's  looks  had  altered  much  during  ihe  little  while 
they  had  been  absent,  and  care  had  worn  deeply  into 
her  spirit. 

"  So  much  strife  and  misery,  Lu,  since  you  left  us," 
she  said ;  "  and  the  worst  is  yet  to  come,"  turning  her 
streaming  eyes  to  the  bed  where  her  father  lay. 

f?  You  will  let  me  be  nurse  now,  Mary,  won't  you  ?  " 
her  friend  asked,  throwing  her  arms  about  Mary's 
neck. 

Doctor  Tom  came  in,  and  feeling  the  patient's  pulse, 
he  said  as  he  withdrew  : 

"  You  need  not  repeat  the  medicine,  Mary." 

The  scout  followed  him  from  the  room,  where  he 
had  taken  his  turn  in  watching. 

"  He  may  not  last  through  the  day,"  the  Doctor 
answered  gravely  to  the  question  put  to  him  ;  "  he  has 
internal  injuries,  Beck,  which  cannot  be  reached." 

"  And  thar's  no  chance  for  his  life  ?  "  asked  the  lat 
ter,  with  much  feeling  in  his  voice. 

"None;  and  Beck,  you  must  tell  his  poor  child; 
I've  not  the  nerve  to  do  so." 

In  a  few  moments  after  this  conversation  Beck  met 
Whack. 

"  The  Doctor  has  jus  told  me  that  Peter  can't  live." 

"I  feared  so,  "  Whack  replied  in  a  spasm  of 'grief, 


TWO  DEATHS—  BECK'S  DUTY.  285 

and  his  friend  left  him  in  sorrow  so  keen  he  would  not 
disturb  it. 

"Come,  Mary,"  —  he  said,  in  his  straightforward 
way  when  prompted  by  a  sense  of  duty  —  as  he  entered 
the  room,  and  his  voice  was  very  kind  ;  "  come  out  for  a 
breath  of  air,  Lu  will  stay  till  you  come  ;  "  he  took  her 
hand  in  his,  leading  her  to  the  porch.  There  they 
were  seated,  and  raising  her  head  her  face  was  so 
purely  pale,  the  scout,  who  was  about  to  speak,  fal 
tered. 

"Do  you  think  that  father  is  better  or  worse,  Mister 
John?"  she  asked,  with  a  searching  glance  into  her 
friend's  face. 

Taking  her  hand  again  in  his,  he  said  slowly,  as  if 
each  word  was  a  pain  : 

"  He  never  can  be  better,  Mary." 

The  long  suspense  was  broken  by  the  touch  of  the 
simplest  words ;  for  a  brief  second  the  blackness  of 
despair  seemed  to  hold  her  eyelids  down ;  again  the 
manly  tones  of  his  voice  were  heard,  and  she  felt  the 
tight-drawn  misery  of  her  heart  relax ;  she  wept 
aloud. 

Beck  rose,  and  suddenly  he  laid  his  big,  broad, 
tender  hand,  with  a  touch  as  gentle  as  the  girl's,  on 
her  brown  hair,  and  pressed  it  down ;  again  and  again 
he  pressed  it,  as  if  the  touch  drew  to  his  heart  some  of 
her  sorrow,  and  he  said  : 

"You'll  never  want  a  friend,  Mary,  while  John 
lives." 

She  turned  her  tear-wet  face  with  a  look  that  sank 


286  SNAP. 

into  his  sight  to  be  held  there  always ;  and  she  an 
swered  him : 

"I  know  it,  Mister  John  ;  God  bless  you." 

When  the  two  went  back  to  the  room  the  sick  man 
lay  in  an  easy  sleep  ;  the  pain  had  passed  away,  and 
had  left  an  eager  innocence  011  the  aged  features,  the 
stamp  of  a  frank,  single-hearted  nature.  His  form 
was  the  remnant  of  an  athletic  life,  sinewy  and  strong 
even  now ;  all  was  calm,  there  was  no  passion  to  throb 
the  heart ;  in  truth  he  had  but  two  passions  through  all 
his  life,  a  love  for  his  child,  a  pride  in  his  trade ;  the 
first  had  tamed  the  sharp  points  of  his  character ;  the 
latter  had  given  him  a  method  to  do  the  best  at  once  ; 
with  both  he  seemed  to  have  grown  lighter  hearted  as 
he  became  older  headed.  His  thoughts  were  far  away 
from  his  people  ;  he  spoke  to  his  horse  in  his  dream, 
the  horse  on  which  he  was  again  crossing  the  plain  ;  he 
urged  him  on  with  feeble  voice.  His  friends  stood 
about  his  bed,  and  outside  on  the  green,  groups  from 
the  camp  sat  and  Avaited  with  downcast  looks. 

Still  the  sleeper  sped  on  over  the  waste,  the  howling 
savage  at  his  heels  ;  he  raised  his  form  suddenly  from 
the  bed,  waving  his  hand,  and  falling  back,  he  mur 
mured  : 

"  Safe  ;  safe/ 

"The  Indians  were  after  him  in  his  vision,"  said 
Mary,  in  a  whisper ;  "he  has  crossed  the  river  again." 

"True,  my  child,"  replied  Doctor  Tom,  touching 
the  patient's  forehead,  "he  has  crossed  the  river  of 
Life/' 


TWO  DEATHS— BECK'S  DUTY.  .    287 

With  a  low,  choking  sob,  and  with  a  tearless  face 
growing  fixed,  Mary  stood  up  : 

ffl  know  he's  safe  on  the  other  side,"  she  faltered, 
when  Beck  with  manly  haste  caught  her  up  in  his  arms, 
as  he  would  a  child,  and  bore  her  from  the  room. 

"  She's  my  baby  now,"  said  old  Chloe,  following 
them. 

The  crowds  from  the  camp  came  and  stood  about  the 
place,  with  every  token  of  a  deep  respect,  and  on  the 
morning  of  another  day,  in  .line  they  moved  away  from 
the  house,  passing  out  under  the  bison's  head  to  the 
prairie.  They  rested  the  bier  where  in  life  he  had 
wished  to  lie.  Each  man,  in  turn,  cast  a  handful  of 
earth  <>n  the  coffin,  and  from  the  silence  of  the  sleep 
eternal  they  moved  away.  In  the  sunset  glowing  with 
rich,  warm  beauty  on  the  mound  their  hands  had 
raised,  they  left  the  aged  sleeper. 

"  And  greatly  would  their  hearts  rejoice 
To  hear  again,  his  living  voice." 

Far  away  from  the  sick  man's  couch,  while  he  lay  in 
pain  :  from  the  wretch's  hell  while  he  writhed  in  toils  ; 
from  the  cots  of  the  wounded,  the  Judge  and  his 
fellows  feasted.  The  lobby's  scheme  lay  before  them  ; 
they  laughed  and  drank  and  were  merry.  The  plot  on 
the  table  was  a  demand  for  the  Indians'  land,  drawn  by 
the  Judge  ;  he  considered  it  the  cleverest  effort  of  his 
smartness.  Whether  he  knew  that  graves  had  been 
filled  to  pay  for  a  sharper's  folly,  or  that  the  kind  host 
whose  friendship  he  had  trifled  with,  had  been  snatched 


288  SATAP. 

away  by  Death,  matters  little  ;  would  matter  but  little 
to  him.  Type  of  the  trickster,  all  the  world  over  a 
trickster  is  a  sneak  ;  a  sneak,  the  meanest  thing  on  earth. 

There  were  legal  as  Avell  as  business  needs  that  the 
will  should  be  opened ;  Beck  and  Whack  felt  that  it 
must  be  attended  to. 

"  Jus  say  what  we  shall  do,  Mary,"  said  the  scout. 

"I  believe  father  has  named  some  of  the  men  in  the 
will,  and  it  ought  to  be  read  aloud  before  all." 

"If  you  say  so,  to-morrow  morning  I'll  bring  em 
here." 

When  they  had  come  together,  Beck  unfolded  the 
brown  paper  envelope,  and  read  : 

TlIE    LAST  WrILL   AND    TESTAMENT  OF   PlERRE  CHEVI- 

TEAU,  TRADER.  It  had  been  written  by  some  careful 
agent,  and  very  little  that  had  ever  moved  his  respect 
was  left  out.  First,  his  beloved  daughter  claimed  "his 
whole  heart,"  and  to  her  he  willed  the  bulk  of  his 
property;  to  Beck  and  Marshall,  equal  shares  in  the 
trade  with  Mary,  and  large  sums  of  money.  The  will 
set  apart  a  tract,  upon  which  stood  the  post  and  camp, 
for  a  town  site  to  be  called  MARYSVILLE  ;  also  sums  in 
trust  for  the  building  of  the  school-house  and  the 
church.  To  old  Chloe  he  gave  a  house  and  a  small 
dowry  ;  to  the  imp  his  freedom  ;  to  each  of  his  faithful 
men  who  had  served  him  a  given  time,  he  gave  a  tract 
of  land  with  money,  and  when  it  was  the  wish  of  one 
or  all  to  work  the  soil  on  their  own  account,  a  team  of 
cattle  to  each,  "  to  begin  as  he  had  done,  in  the  snap  o' 
the  whip." 


TWO  DEATHS— BECK'S  DUTY.  289 

At  the  last  clause  Beck  folded  the  paper  without 
reading  further,  and  placed  it  in  his  blouse ;  his  face 
changed  and  his  hands  were  unsteady,  but  Whack  said  : 

"I  think  that  the  will  should  be  sent  below,  at  once, 
and  I  should  be  in  New  York  ;  don't  you  think  Mary 
ought  to  go  with  us,  as  far  as  Saint  Louis,  to  stay 
there  with  her  friends  till  her  troubles  are  over  ?  " 

"  Jus  so  ;  I  wanted  to  say  that ;  get  your  wife  to  tell 
her." 

He  left  Whack  hurriedly,  entered  the  office  and 
closed  the  door  behind  him ;  he  locked  it,  placing  a 
chair  at  the  table,  and  laid  the  paper  before  him  as  he 
sat  down  ;  he  read  the  last  sentence  aloud  : 

"Before  bidding  fare  well' to  those  so  dearly  beloved 
in  life,  it  is  the  long-cherished  wish  of  my  heart  that 
John  Beck  and  Mary,  my  daughter,  should  become 
man  and  wife,  as  I  believe  it  to  be  the  wish  of  their 
own  hearts." 

He  read  the  words  again  and  again,  then  turning 
down  the  sheet,  he  laid  his  head  on  it  and  groaned. 

It  was  agreed  that  Mary  would  go  with  her  friends 
to  Saint  Louis,  and  remain  there  some  time,  and  the 
Doctor,  seized  with  what  they  all  thought  to  be  a 
whim,  joined  the  party. 

"Beck,"  he  said,  "when  I'm  gone,  open  that  ma 
hogany  case  of  mine,  and  read  what  you  find  there. 
If  I  don't  turn  up  soon,  you  are  at  liberty  to  keep  the 
papers,  or  burn  them,  as  you  please." 

"  Why  are  you  going ;  what's  the  matter  ?  "  asked 
Beck. 


290  SNAP. 

"I  don't  mind  saying  to  you,  old  fellow,  that  I'm 
going  to  find  the  Judge." 

"  What  for,  Doctor?  he  ain't  worth  looking  for." 

"  Ain't  he?  He'll  think  so  when  we  meet,  sell ;  I'm 
going  to  call  him  out ;  call  him  out,  do  you  understand 
me?" 

No  persuasion  of  the  other  to  cool  the  fire  in  the 
veins  of  the  little,  old  man,  availed  the  least.  The 
next  boat  bore  them  away,  and  the  scout  stood  gazing 
after  them  until  the  steamer  dwindled  to  a  speck  on 
the  shining  surface  of  the  river.'  Beck  turned  about, 
and  with  strange  emotion  he  said  : 

"  I  must  do  my  duty ;  when  it's  done  and  she  knows 
all,  I'll  take  to  the  road  again." 

Through  the  long  winter  he  toiled  late  and  early  to 
cany  out  every  project  or  purpose  expressed  by  his 
former  patron.  He  tore  down  the  abattis  ;  the  store 
houses  were  moved  away  and  turned  into  dwellings ; 
rebuilt  and  whitened,  they  dotted  the  green  outlying 
knolls.  The  camp  was  moved  beyond  the  thickets, 
and  where  the  corral  stood  was  now  an  open  common. 
A  saw-mill  on  the  river  bank  was  kept  busy ;  the 
wharf  was  widened  by  cutting  into  the  bluff;  the  school 
and  the  church  were  begun,  and  the  arch  over  the 
portal  of  the  latter  bore  Mary's  chosen  inscription  : 

'  Where  the  spirit  of  the  Lord  is,  there  is  liberty ." 

Tim  Murphy  turned  an  eye  to  the  main  chance,  and 
drawing  on  his  legacy,  he  laid  out  some  of  it,  in 
material  for  "The  Bullwhacker' *  Inn."  In  time  it  was 
completed, — hastened  on  by  the  personal  labor  and 


T WO  DEA  THS  —BE CK'S  DUTY.  291 

care  of  the  owner,  —  with  a  swinging  sign  the  wonder 
of  the  village,  and  its  two  stories  the  marvel  of  the 
rustics.  Then  a  farmer  started  a  line  of  road-wagons, 
called  stages,  and  noised  his  coming  through  a  tin  horn 
to  the  alarm  of  the  urchins  and  the  colored  folk ;  next, 
a  barn  was  needed.  One  of  the  larger  log-houses  was 
furnished  with  rude  store  fixtures  ;  a  large  storehouse 
at  the  landing  finally  bore  on  its  broad,  white  front,  in 
deep,  black  letters  : 

BECK,-  MARSHALL  &  Co. 

with  Mary  as  the  silent  partner. 

Beck  never  wearied ;  the  labor  he  had  set  about  to 
perform,  and  what  he  believed  would  have  been  his  old 
friend's  wish,  had  requited  but  little  the  pain  he  seemed 
to  suffer.  The  man  was  worn  to  a  shadow  and  the 
smile  from  his  fine  face  was  gone.  He  had  tugged  on, 
holding  his  course  without  a  word  of  complaint,  not 
caring  for  praise,  nor  for  censure.  He  had  earnestness, 
and  his  strength  was  untamable,  but  the  trial  seemed 
almost  deadly  in  the  traces  it  left  on  his  form  and 
features.  Coolness  and  restraint,  the  habit  of  a  life 
full  of  peril,  were  still  his,  but  his  lips  seemed  to  be 
sealed,  by  as  strong  a  clasp  as  honor.  He  toiled  on 
with  a  strength  he  never  felt  before  through  a  wild, 
strange  longing  ;  it  was  neither  the  lash  of  self-rebuke 
nor  sell-hate  ;  no  sign  of  remorse  tinged  his  unhappi- 
ness. 

In  the  brighter,  warmer  days  of  the  early  spring,  he 
put  the  painters  to  work  on  the  house  and  brightened 


292  SNAP. 

the  old  place  in  and  out.  Then  he  sat  down,  wrote  a 
line  to  Mary,  saying  : 

"Come." 

She  started  for  home  in  company  with  Marshall  and 
his  wife,  and  Mr.  Foster,  a  preacher,  came  with  them  on 
an  errand  to  consecrate  the  new  church.  Beck  led 
Mary  from  the  boat.  What  he  said  was,  as  of  old, 
the  frank  greeting  of  a  companion,  a  little  grave  but 
still  hearty.  He  went  with  her  to  a  seat  on  the  rear 
porch  in  the  purple  light  strained  through  the  morning- 
glories,  and  left  her  there,  charmed  with  her  surprise, 
and  in  the  arms  of  old  Chloe. 

He  found  Whack  —  for  such  he  would  ever  be  to 
Beck  —  and  showed  everything  new,  and  dwelt  upon, 
as  they  passed  along,  the  future  wants  of  the  trade. 

"It's  all  just  as  it  ought  to  be,"  said  Whack,  "I 
could  almost  manage  things  myself." 

"  Could  you  ?  "  asked  the  other  quickly,  and  when  his 
partner  started  at  the  sudden  answer,  and  turned 
his  face  to  his  friend's,  he  was  forced  to  say : 

"  You've  worked  too  hard,  scout,  you  show  the 
strain." 


THE  MAHOGANY  CASE.  293 


CHAPTER  XX. 

THE    MAHOGANY  CASE. 

Doctor  Tom  was  put  ashore  at  a  little  village  and 
taking  a  stage  from  thence,  soon  reached  the  capital 
of  the  State. 

Bad  news  travels  fast,  but  it  had  not  been  swift 
enough  to  outrun  the  Doctor.  He  would  have  been 
the  first  messenger  to  deliver  the  ill-tidings  of  the  dis- 

O  O 

aster  at  the  post,  had  he  not  thought  best  to  keep 
silent. 

Judge  Smith,  and  the  combination  of  which  he  was 
the  moving  spirit,  had  heard  good  news  from  Wash 
ington.  They  had  been  assured  by  a  letter  received 
on  the  day  of  the  Doctor's  arrival,  that  steps  would  be 
taken  in  the  near  future,  to  remove  the  Indians  from 
the  reservation  which  adjoined  Cheviteau's.  The  sub 
ject,  it  went. on  to  say,  had  received  the  attention  of 
the  Department,  and  it  was  thought  expedient,  owing 
to  the  too  close  proximity  of  the  savages  to  the  whites, 
to  remove  them  to  a  less  exposed  location.  Such  was 
the  pompous  phrasing  of  an  extract  from  an  official 
letter  received  by  one  of  their  friends  from  the  Indian 
office. 

The  knot  of  speculators  came  together  in  a  back 
room  of  the  town  tavern  and  held  council.  At  such  a 


294  SNAP. 

conference,  the  prerequisite  to  formulate  their  pro 
ceedings  was  a  liberal  supply  of  "  corn-juice." 

Judge  Smith  was  particularly  happy,  in  fact  de 
lighted,  and  showed  his  satisfaction  by  an  eager  claim 
of  leadership,  and  an  over  allowance  of  credit  for 
"working  the  thing  through." 

"  It's  the  finest  piece  of  wild  land  in  the  West,"  he 
said,  "and  I've  been  all  over  it;  the  soil  is  a  black, 
rich  loam,  ten  feet  in  depth,  and  as  for  the  timber, 
gentlemen,  there  ain't  a  wood  that  grows  but  can  be 
found  there." 

"There  won't  be  much  trouble  with  Injins,  I  reckon," 
suggested  one  of  the  cabal. 

"  Not  much,"  said  the  Judge  with  a  knowing  look  ; 
"you  know  the  army  has  to  carry  out  the  order." 

"Is  there  any  good  town  sites?"  queried  a  third. 

"  Town  sites  !  "  laughed  his  honor  ;  "  why,  the  first 
thing  I  intend  to  do  is  to  run  opposition  to  old  Chevi- 
teau ;  set  up  a  post  against  his,  work  him  out  of  his 
landing  and  build  up  a  town  right  under  his  nose." 

"  Yes,  he's  too  old  and  slow  for  these  times ;  have 
you  staked  your  claim,  Judge?" 

"Certainly,  and  I  reckon  you'll  all  admit  my  claim 
to  the  best  as  just." 

"Thar's  jes  one  thing  I  don't  like  about  this  move," 
said  a  gruff  speaker,  and  a  man  who,  by  his  manner, 
seemed  a  little  cautious. 

"  What's  that?  "  asked  one  near  him. 

"Why,  jus  this;  if  them  Injins  get  an  inkling  of 
this,  they'll  like  as  not  get  red  hot  and  then — " 


THE  MAHOGANY  CASE.  295 

"Well,  what  then?"  spoke  up  the  Judge. 

"They'll  murder  every  man,  woman  and  child  at  the 
post." 

The  speaker's  words  were  cut  short,  for  without  so 
much  as  a  knock,  an  officious  waiter  threw  open  the 
door,  and  in  wralked  the  small,  well-knit  form  of  Doctor 
Tom. 

Glancing  about  him  restlessly,  as  some  of  the  party 
rose  from  their  chairs,  he  singled  out  the  Judge  and 
made  up  to  him  with  short,  quick  steps. 

"Hello,  Doctor  Tom,  is  that  you?"  said  the  Judge 
in  a  free  flow  of  humor,  as  he  offered  his  hand. 

"  Drop  your  hand,  seh,"  said  the  Doctor,  halting  ;  "  it 
is  stained  with  blood ;  it's  the  hand  of  a  coward. 
Gentlemen,"  he  said,  turning  to  the  crowd,  "the  In 
dians  on  the  border  have  risen  and  they  have  attacked 
Cheviteau's  post.  This  man  I  charge  with  being  the 
prime  cause  of  the  massacre.  Don't  you  believe  me?'' 
he  continued,  turning  round  ;  "go  out  then,  the  mail- 
stage  is  at  the  door ;  it  brings  the  news."  This  was  a 
ruse  of  the  Doctor  to  clear  the  room,  and  hardly  a 
moment  elapsed,  even  while  he  spoke,  when  they  all 
hurried  off.  The  Judge  was  about  to  follow,  forgetful 
of  the  affront  put  upon  him  in  his  haste  to  learn  the 
worst,  but  with  a  spring  the  Doctor  reached  the  door, 
closed  it,  locked  it  and  placed  the  key  in  his  pocket. 
He  had  shut  out  all  except  himself  and  the  Judge. 

"Now,  seh,"  he  said,  turning  to  the  other,  "we  can 
have  it  out  alone.  Peter  Chcviteauis  dead,  and  scores 
of  his  brave  men  have  been  slaughtered  through  your 


296  SNAP. 

infernal  trickery.  You  enjoyed  the  hospitality  of  my 
friend's  house  to  betray  him  to  the  fiendish  malice  of 
the  savage.  You  knew  the  evil  your  secret  scheme 
might  bring  upon  him,  upon  the  heads  of  helpless 
women,  upon  babes  and  children.  I  repeat,  seh, 
you're  a  coward." 

The  Judge  had  been  so  suddenly  confronted  with 
the  irate  little  man,  and  his  announcement  of  so  start 
ling  a  nature,  he  was  slow  to  recover.  But  the  Doctor 
while  he  spoke  had  drawn  from  the  inside  pockets  of 
his  coat  a  pair  of  pistols,  and  laid  them  on  the  table 
before  him. 

Now  a  rap  was  heard  at  the  door. 

rt  Take  the  choice  of  these  weapons,  seh.  I  am  the 
friend  of  Peter  Cheviteau,  and  over  his  grave  I  de 
mand  satisfaction  of  you." 

The  noise  at  the  door  of  voices  and  confusion  in 
creased. 

f  Take  one,"  said  the  Doctor,  "  I'll  give  you  a  chance  . 
for  your  life  ;  if  you  don't,  I'll  shoot  you  down  like  a 


dog." 


A  voice  outside  cried  : 

"Let  us  in  or  we'll  break  down  the  door." 

Whether  it  was  the  nearness  of  his  companions,  or 
the  fear  of  showing  cowardice,  which  even  they  would 
not  brook,  the  Judge  plucked  up  courage,  and  at  last 
found  voice  to  say  : 

"  If  nothing  else  will  do,  take  your  place.  "  He  spoke 
loudly,  and  taking  up  one  of  the  pistols  he  turned  to 
wards  the  end  of  the  table. 


THE   MAHOGANY   CASE.  297 

The  door  was  pounded  heavily,  and  a  number  of  men 
without  talked  in  an  excited  manner. 

"  Are  you  ready  ?  "  asked  the  Doctor,  in  a  steady 
voice. 

Just  then  the  door  gave  way,  and  the  crowd  rushed 
in  to  seize  the  Doctor's  upraised  arm  with  the  finger  on 
the  trigger.  Both  men  were  disarmed,  and  pocketing 
his  weapons  the  excited  old  man  hastened  from  the 
room. 

At  the  door  he  turned  and  said  : 

"Judge  Smith,  I  here  publicly  challenge  you  to 
fight  this  out,  and  leave  you  with  your  friends  to  de 
cide  upon  the  time  and  place.  If  you  do  not  accept, 
seh,  you  are  what  I  have  denounced  you  for,  a  trick 
ster  and  a  poltroon  ;"  and  he  walked  away. 

"  Oh,  I  would  have  shot  him,"  said  the  Judge 
boastingly  to  the  group  ;  "in  another  minute,  gentle 
men,  he  would  have  been  a  cbad  man.  Immediately 
after  he  locked  the  door  and  offered  the  pistols,  I 
seized  one,  covered  him,  and  made  him  take  back  his 
insult;  if  he  hadn't  he  would  have  been  slain." 

The  end  of  the  affair  was  inglorious.  Doctor  Tom 
waited  several  days  for  the  satisfaction  he  had  so  rashly 
sought,  but  the  friends  of  the  Judge,  upon  due  con 
sideration,  with  his  ready  acquiescence,  declined  the 
meeting. 

The  Doctor  was  also  kindly  persuaded  by  some  of 
the  wiser  heads  of  the  place  to  forego  a  duel  with  a 
man  who  was  not  in  any  sense  his  equal,  and  to  whom 
he  gave  an  equal  chance  for  life  with  himself  as  the 


298  SNAP. 

party  aggrieved.  Not  entirely  satisfied  with  (he  logic 
of  such  advice,  the  Doctor  was,  nevertheless,  content 
to  post  the  Judge  in  a  weekly  paper,  and  shaking  the 
dust  of  a  place  he  contemned  from  his  feet,  he  soundly 
abused  his  adversary  and  departed.  The  next  seen  of 
the  fiery  little  champion,  he  was  on  his  way  to  the  post. 

On  entering  the  house  Beck  called  to  mind  the  last 
words  of  Doctor  Tom,  and  going  into  the  deserted 
chamber  he  found  the  mahogany  case  on  the  window 
sill.  It  was  unlocked  and  he  raised  the  lid.  Two 
compartments  which  from  their  shape  he  knew  had 
held  a  pair  of  duelling  pistols,  were  empty  ;  in  another 
a  closely  folded  manuscript,  which  showed  its  age  in 
the  brown  tinge  of  the  paper,  caught  his  eye  ;  as  this, 
h  '  supposed,  was  uliat  his  old  friend  desired  that  he 
should  read,  he  took  it  out  to  peruse  it. 

It  was  a  document  of  some  length,  written  in  a 
round,  legible  hand,  and  began,  without  preface,  the  re 
cital  of  an  episode  in  the  fitful  career  of  the  writer. 

"  My  father,"  the  writing  began,  "  inherited  a  very 
comfortable  income  which  he  spent  early  in  life  through 
the  temptations  of  youth  and  a  love  of  display.  He 
had  just  entered  manhood,  and  a  fortune  misspent  at 
such  a  time  clouds  the  future  and  dampens  the  ardor 
of  the  bravest.  At  this  trying  time  to  be  deeply, 
madly  in  love  with  a  very  poor  but  a  very  pretty  wo 
man  was  unfortunate,  and  his  infatuation  carried  him 
into  wedlock  with  scarcely  enough  between  the  two  to 
set  the  pot  boiling.  The  match  was  sneered  at  by  his 
friends  and  relatives,  and  truth  to  say  he  found  little 


THE  MAHOGANY  CASE.  299 

in  common  with  the  partner  of  his  bosom.  She  was 
illiterate,  coarse,  and  their  married  life,  though  of  short 
duration,  was  not  happy.  The  wife  died  and  left  a  son. 
My  father's  fortunes  improved  but  little  during  the 
infancy  of  the  child,  and  through  boyhood  his  educa 
tion  was  sadly  neglected.  The  lad  was  bright  and  apt, 
and  not  to  grow  up  a  dolt,  he  taught  himself  much  of 
what  he  knew  ;  not  a  little,  for  he  was  a  close  reader. 

"  It  was  said  of  my  parent  that  he  was  a  handsome 
mnn,  of  winning  manners,  and  some  accomplishments, 
and  with  such,  in  those  days  when  beaux  were  few,  was 
to  be  much  admired. 

"  Some  years  further  on,  he  ceased  to  be  a  widower. 
Having  met  a  lady,  between  whom  and  himself  there 
sprung  up  a  mutual  and  decided  admiration,  he  paid 
her  his  devoirs  with  the  most  assiduous  gallantry. 
She  possessed  a  very  large  estate  ;  he  literally  nothing, 
with  the  incumbrance  of  the  boy  aforesaid.  But  they 
were  married  in  good  time,  and  in  the  further  course 
of  events  I  was  the  fruit  of  that  union. 

"To  pass  over  much  that  belongs  to  a  truthful  his 
tory  it  will  suffice  to  r<  ach  the  purpose  of  this  memo 
randum  to  say,  that  both  my  parents  died  leaving  me 
in  possession  of  a  fortune.  I  pass,  over  also  the  inter 
vening  years  of  my  college  training. 

"Meanwhile  my  half  brother,  Tobias,  had  grown 
up  to  be  a  quiet,  inoffensive  sort  of  fellow,  but  like 
his  lather  before  him,  had  taken  hold  on  matrimony, 
with  the  same  disregard  of  proprieties,  and  with  the 
same  penniless  risks,  My  own  remonstrance  was  all 


300  SNAP. 

in  vain,  and  besides  we  became  in  a  measure  estranged. 
The  woman  he  married  was  by  no  means  his  equal  in 
any  respect,  but  he  married ;  that  was  the  long  and 
short  of  it. 

"  There  was  a  large  barbacue  near  by  the  town  in 
which  we  lived,  and  very  distinguished  men  were  in 
vited  to  address  the  people.  The  best  people  of 
that  section  were  there  also,  and  altogether  it  was  the 
most  notable  event  of  the  year.  My  brother  was 
there  with  his  wife ;  my  mother's  relations  were  pre 
sent  also,  and  while  he  was  kindly  and  courteously  re 
ceived  he  made  little  progress  in  helping  himself  to 
their  better  acquaintance.  It  was  while  we  were  both 
standing  in  the  group  of  happy  faces,  he  with  a  bash 
ful  hesitancy  of  manner,  that  the  young  sprig  of  a 
wealthy  lawyer,  much  the  worse  for  his  libations, 
rudely  broke  in  upon  our  company.  Tobias,  who 
until  then  had  given  but  little  sign  of  interest  in  what 
was  passing,  now  rose  to  his  feet,  and  in  a  very  re 
spectful  way  tried  to  persuade  the  intruder  to  pass  on. 
What  was  my  surprise,  and  not  less  that  of  the  entire 
assemblage  whose  notice  had  been  drawn  to  the  loud 
voice  of  the  tipsy  upstart,  when  he  turned  suddenly  and 
in  a  violent  rage  struck  my  brother  full  in  the  face. 
Not  content  with  this  gross  affront,  he  coupled  it  with 
language  /the  most  vile,  insulting  the  name  of  my 
brother's  mother,  and  heaping  upon  him  the  rudest 
abuse.  Friends  interfered,  the  men  were  separated, 
but  not  before  I  had  gone  to  a  brother  of  the  rowdy 
and  said : 


THE  MAHOGANY   CASE.  301 

"  '  So  soon  as  he  is  sober  he  must  apologize  or  fight.' 

"Days  passed  and  the  town  talk,  as  well  as  the  whis 
pers  which  passed  from  the  lips  of  the  men  of  note  who 
had  seen  the  insult,  all  agreed  that  there  was  nothing 
my  brother  could  do,  but  to  demand  from  his  assailant 
the  proper  satisfaction.  To  learn  how  far  he  was  pre 
pared  for  this  just  demand  in  the  vindication  of  his 
honor,  I  went  to  see  him. 

"  I  had  not  known  until  told  by  others  that  Tobias 
was  a  member  of  a  church,  and  a  strict  conformist  to 
the  morals  of  his  faith.  This,  however,  made  no  im 
pression  on  my  well  conceived  ideas  of  his  duty  as  a 
man. 

"On  meeting  him  he  made  no  hesitation  in  saying 
that  he  should  let  the  matter  pass,  and  that  he  forgave 
the  rudeness  in  the  belief  that  the  man  was  not  him 
self.  I  urged  in  vain,  that  he  had  no  right  to  evade 
the  responsibility ;  that  the  affront  was  an  open  insult 
to  the  family  name ;  that  his  alternative  would  drive 
him  from  the  community'  branded  as  a  coward,  and 
that  if  he  did  not  himself  challenge  the  offender  forth 
with,  I  would  myself  do  so,  and  take  upon  myself  the 
sole  charge  of  the  affair  But,  I  added,  it  would  cause, 
of  course,  a  severance  of  all  affectionate  relations  be 
tween  us. 

"  He  begged  to  be  allowed  to  consider,  and  I  left 
him  with  the  conviction  that  I  would  have  to  fight  the 
fellow  myself.  In  station  he  was  my  equal,  and  fully 
equal  to  the  mischief  he  could  make  out  of  it.  Time 
passed  and  my  brother  was  fast  becoming  a  butt, 


3)2  SXAP. 

sneered  at  and  shunned  by  his  associates,  and  publicly 
avoided  as  one  disgraced.  But  the  crisis  came  in  a 
most  unexpected  way,  and  put  an  end  to  the  strain  and 
fever  I  endured. 

"My  brother's  insulter  was  a  born  bully,  and  with 
out  provocation  and  only  to  gain  notoriety  had  he  com 
mitted  the  assault.  Now  to  gain  a  little  more  bad 
eminence,  and  to  flaunt  another  feather  of  the  bravado 
with  his  like,  to  prove  the  cowardice  which  he  said 
belonged  to  us,  he  challenged  my  brother,  making  a 
pretense  of  some  fancied  wrong. 

"On  the  instant,  much  to  my  surprise,  Tobias  accepted 
the  challenge,  and  by  right  of  what  had  passed  be 
tween  us  he  insisted  that  I  should  second  him  in  the 
field.  We  went  out,  and  on  the  first  fire  he  shot  his 
antagonist  dead."  * 

At  this  point  of  the  reading,  Beck  impatiently  spoke 
his  thoughts  aloud. 

"  That's  all  stuff,"  he  said,  "brave  men  know  better ; 
every  time  that  bully  showed  up  he  oughter  been  put 
down  ;  I'd  a  lammed  him  outer  his  boots." 

The  scout  gave  a  long-drawn  sigh,  either  in  disgust 
of  his  surroundings,  or  in  his  contempt  of  the  wing 
less  Florimel,  which  the  Doctor  spoke  of  as  honor. 
His  thoughts  ran  astray,  and  the  old  sore  seemed  to 

*The  writer  prefers  to  interpret  the  feeling  of  the  time,  in  regard  to  the 
duel,  as  near  as  may  he  in  the  words  of  one  who  favored  the  barbarous 
practice  That  one  professing  religion  could  engage  in  mortal  combat  of  the 
kind,  persuaded  to  it  by  his  own  brother,  and  return  to  the  fold  after  slaying 
his  adversary,  is  not  an  overdrawn  picture,  and  is  founded  on  a  fact.  It 
needs  no  garnishing. 


THE   MAHOGANY   CASE.  303 

bleed  afresh ;  his  eyes  were  set  upon  the  floor  before 
him,  but  arousing  from  the  reverie,  he  turned  to  the 
paper  and  read  on. 

"  Tobias  Shorter  after  this  became  a  changed  man. 
His  soul  seemed  to  have  been  moved  deeply.  He  be 
came  a  schoolmaster,  and  it  was  his  habit  to  read  the 
Bible  to  his  pupils,  and  this  so  often  repeated,  with 
ponderings  upon  the  text,  he  laid  by  in  memory  the 
best  of  its  traditions  and  in  his  heart  all  of  its  lessons. 
It  happened,  at  this  time,  that  a  religious  panic  seized 
the  minds  of  the  people,  wherein  masses  were  swayed 
by  an  unwonted  fervor,  and  he,  a  sensitive  and  pro 
found  believer,  was  swept  into  the  frenzy.  At  large 
musters,  in  camps  and  meeting-houses,  none  exhorted 
with  the  fiery  vehemence  of  Tobias  ;  none  so  ardently 
besought  to  repentance,  or  prayed  with  the  same  in 
tense  and  frantic  ecstasy  of  faith.  He  went  about  from 
house  to  house  ;  along  the  roads  he  was  seen  at  un 
seemly  hours,  halting  the  traveller  to  warn  or  to 
upbraid  him ;  in  class  and  church  he  led  in  praise  and 
protestation.  His  school  was  closed  ;  he  was  really 
already  mad,  but  induced  to  seek  the  wilderness,  with 
the  promise  of  work  in  the  vineyard,  he  left  the  town, 
and  it  is  said  that  his  reason  failed.  I  never  saw  him 
after  this."  Here  the  manuscript  ended. 

As  Beck  refolded  the  screed  and  was  about  to  re 
place  it  in  its  place,  he  kept  repeating  the  name  of 
the  Doctor's  brother  as  one  he  had  surely  heard  before. 

"  Tobias ;  Tobias  Shorter ;  I've  heard  that  some- 
whar :  let  me  see  ; ''  then  suddenly  he  remembered  to 


304  SNAP. 

have  heard  the  Colonel  tell  the  story  of  the  haunted 
cabin,  wherein  he  spoke  of  one  Tobias,  and  weighing 
the  coincidence  he  followed  out  the  trace  to  the  wild 
man  of  the  plains,  and  further  to  the  lunatic  in  the 
asylum.  "  Sure  enuf  that's  him  I  reckon,  an  the  Doc 
tor  doesn't  know  it,  neither.  Well,  well,"  he  said,  as 
he  was  about  to  close  the  case.  But  his  eye  dis 
covered  another  manuscript,  and  taking  it  out  he  read 
what  seemed  to  be  the  Doctor's  suggestions  as  to  the 
proper  mode  of  treating  the  Indians.  Without  head 
ing  or  a  word  of  comment,  the  unexplained  notes  laid 
down  certain  ideas  which  were  those  which  he  often 
expressed  openly  : 

"Put  the  tribes  so  far  apart  that  they  can't  form 
combinations. 

"  What's  the  use  or  sense  of  a  treaty  with  a  savage  ? 

"  No  more  treaties  should  be  made  with  the  Indians  ; 
those  now  binding  should  be  abrogated. 

"  The  system  should  be  changed,  and  the  Indians 
brought  directly  and  individually  under  the  laws. 

"  Magistrates  should  be  appointed*  to  enforce  in  each 
tribe,  or  on  each  reservation,  the  criminal  laws  of  the 
United  States,  with  power  to  call  upon  the  army  at 
any  and  all  times  to  carry  out  their  decisions  and 
orders. 

"  The  squaw-men  (pirates) ,  whites,  Mexicans  and 
negroes,  should  be  put  away  from  the  reservations  and 
not  be  permitted  to  live  with  or  go  among  the 
Indians. 

*  The  Indian  boys  now  being  educated,  if  trustworthy. 


THE  MAHOGANY  CASE.  3()5 

"Cohabitation,  miscalled  marriage,  with  Indian  wo 
men  should  be  punished. 

"Liquors,  arms,  ammunition  and  property  of  any 
kind,  taken  without  authority  into  the  Indian  country, 
for  traffic  with  the  Indians,  should  be  destroyed  on  the 
spot ;  the  owner,  if  captured,  should  be  punished  by 
imprisonment  and  fine. 

"  Congress  should  pass  laws  making  it  penal  to  sell 
or  give  arms  or  ammunition  to  Indians,  even  by  agents, 
and  thus  gradually  disarm  the  Indians. 

"  Give  an  Indian  enough  to  live  on.  (lands  in 
severalty)  and  see  that  he  gets  it. 

"When  a  marauding  party  is  trailed  to  a  reservation, 
force  the  tribe  to  deliver  up  the  individuals  composing 
it  for  punishment. 

"  Punish  murder,  pillage  and  other  similar  crimes  ex 
actly  as  they  would  be  punished  among  the  whites."  * 

Having  read  the  last  slip  hastily,  Beck  took  from 
his  pocket  a  pencil,  and  scrawling  on  the  back  of  the 
Doctor's  advice  the  letters  "O.K., "he  returned  the 
papers  and  closed  the  lid.  For  the  first  time  he  ri  ad 
the  inscription  on  the  gold  plate  :  "  Shoot  folly  as  it 
flies;"  then  he  left  the  room.  He  glanced  at  Mary, 
from  the  rear  door,  in  her  place  at  her  knitting,  and 
then  as  if  rebuked  for  his  weakness,  he  turned  about 
and  strode  off  to  the  office. 

*  Taken  in  part  from  a  code  laid  down  in  "  The  Great  Plains  " — 
Col.  Dodge,  U.  S.  A.  Very  mnch  the  same  opinions  were  held  by 
intelligent  Western  men,  at  the  date  of  the  story,  and  borrowing 
from  this  very  comprehensive  work,  to  be  used  in  this  connection 
and  way,  will  not  be  much  out  of  place. 


306  SNAP. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

THE    STRONG    MAN'S    TROUBLE  —  HIS    REWARD. 

The  men  for  a  long  time  had  noticed  the  changed 
appearance  of  Beck ;  they  asked  him  if  he  was  ill,  but 
with  a  shake  of  the  head  he  passed  on,  annoyed ;  Mary 
saw  in  his  looks,  in  his  silence,  his  awkward  way  of 
avoiding  her,  at  times,  and  more  than  all,  in  the  feel 
ing  he  so  often  threw  into  his  words,  that  an  old,  deep 
sorrow  lay  behind  his  manner.  It  was  to  her  a  vexed 
mystery,  such  as  she  could  not  solve  and  dare  not 
probe. 

Taking  up  a  pen  at  the  office  table,  Beck  sat  do^vn 
and  wrote  rapidly  ;  pausing  now  and  then  to  wipe  his 
brow,  he  wrote  on  as  if  each  word  pained  him  to  trace 
it.  and  then  raising  the  paper  to  the  light,  he  read  it. 

It  was  a  letter  written  to  Mary  and  told  the  secret 
of  his  life,  and  ran  thus,  in  a  free-hand  plain  English  ; 

DEAR  MARY  :  — When  you  receive  this  I  will  be  far 
away.  I  would  have  come  to  you  to  say  what  I  have 
to  say,  but  that  would  only  make  things  worse,  and  I 
want  to  take  all  the  trouble  to  myself  and  take  it  away 
with  me.  You  have  had  trouble  enough.  I  send  your 
father's  will  along  with  this,  and  you  will  see  what  1 


THE  STRONG  MAN'S  TROUBLE— HIS  REWARD.     307 

did  not  read,  and  what  I  cannot  carry  out.  It  almost 
kills  me  to  say  so. 

Now  I  must  tell  you  why.  You  will  not  think  less 
of  me  when  you  know  all,  I  hope.  When  I  was  jus  of 
a^e,  I  had  a  good  farm  well  stocked  down  in  Kentucky, 
and  was  comfortable.  Thar  was  no  young  man  of  my 
inches  could  hold  a  rifle,  swing  a  whip  or  ride  a  horse 
alongside  of  me.  They  tried  it  often  and  was  beaten, 
and  that's  how  it  all  come  about. 

There  was  a  young  girl  in  our  parts,  and  she  was 
called  the  belle  of  the  neighborhood.  All  the  boys 
took  a  shine  to  her,  I  among  the  rest ;  and  among  so 
many  she  hardly  knew  how  to  choose.  At  a  shooting 
match  she  gave  me  an  open  preference  after  I  had  won 
the  prize. 

Well,  we  was  married  and  I  was  a  happy  man,  too 
happy,  mebbe,  for  I  loved  her  well ;  but  I  soon  found 
that  I  had  let  my  heart  run  away  with  my  head.  She 
was  not  a  good  wife  ;  no,  not  even  a  true  wife,  Mary. 
You  have  known  me  long,  and  you  know  it  was  only 
my  wrongs  that  could  drive  me  away,  so  I  left  her.  I 
left  everything  jus  as  it  stood,  after  I  had  told  her  we 
could  never  live  together,  and  I  journeyed  West, 
become  a  soldier  and  a  scout. 

She  still  lives,  and  you  know  I  am  in  duty  bound, 
so  long  as  she  bears  my  name,  to  live  as  I  am.  You 
will  say  that  never  by  word  or  sign  have  I  ever  said  a 
word  against  her.  And  now  that  everything  is  jus  as 
your  good  father  would  have  liked  it,  all  but  this,  you 
will  see  that  it  cannot  be.  Sooner  than  deceive  you, 


308  SNAP. 

Mary,  I  would  take  my  own  life,— the  little  that  is 
left  that  is  worth  taking.  God  bless  you  and  good 
bye.  From  your  friend  in  life  and  death, 

JOHN  BECK. 

There  were  moments  to  the  lonely  writer  of  acute 
and  cruel  misery.  He  loved  Mary  with  a  love  as  pure 
as  the  purest,  but  there  was  not  a  word  nor  line  of  his 
letter  that  disclosed  it.  In  all  his  long  and  brotherly 
intercourse  with  her,  there  had  never  been  a  look  or 
sign  to  warm  or  awaken  in  her  an  attachment  stronger 
than  friendship.  And  yet  through  all  these  long, 
manly  years,  the  smothered  passion  burned  like  a 
slow,  consuming  fire  ;  it  had  nearly  destroyed  him. 
By  the  gentle  instinct  of  woman,  Mary  was  guarded  in 
her  liking  for  Mister  John,  and  never  but  once  had  a 
spoken  word,  by  any  one  who  knew  them,  touched  the 
chord  that  lay  so  deeply  hidden.  The  Colonel,  in  his 
friendly,  familiar  way,  said  just  before  the  attack  on 
the  barricade  : 

"  John,  sumthin  or  nuther  tells  me  that  this  fight 
may  put  me  outer  ther  way;  we  can't  none  of  us 
tell,  but  thar's  iny  darter,  John  ;  I  bleeve  that  she 
loves,  you,  John,  leastwise  I  think  so,  and  I  kinder 
bleeve  you  love  her  — " 

His  speech  was  cut  short  by  the  yell  of  the  savage, 
and  never  finished,  but  his  words  '<!  bleeve  that  she 
loves  you  "  rang  in  Beck's  ears  night  and  day ;  these 
coupled  with  the  lines  of  the  will  which  Mary  must,  in 
time,  see,  drew  from  his  honor  the  cruel  sacrifice 


THE  STRONG  MAN'S  TROUBLE  — HIS  REWARD.     309 

which  he  had  begun.  He  read  his  letter  several  times, 
folded  it  and  placed  it  in  his  blouse  pocket. 

He  went  about  quietly  taking  a  last  look ;  at  the 
cabins  he  took  up  the  little  ones  and  talked  to  them  ; 
he  spoke  good  wishes  to  the  men  that  each  might 
remember ;  he  stroked  the  face  of  a  favorite  ox ;  he 
stood  by  the  grave  of  his  patron  and  tore  himself 
away  to  find  Kitty,  and  saddled  her. 

The  guard  who  came  on  his  rounds  in  the  evening 
was  Sandy. 

The  teamster  at  Beck's  call  joined  him. 

"I'll  be  off  on  a  long  scout  pooty  soon,  Sandy,  and 
when  I'm  gone,  hand  these  papers  to  Miss  Mary ;  " 
here  he  drew  from  his  breast  the  will  and  the  letter, 
and  placing  them  in  the  hand  of  the  messenger,  he 
went  on  :  "Bout  an  hour  from  now  she'll  come  into  the 
dining-room  and  you'll  see  the  light  thar ;  go  in  and 
hand  them  to  her;  that's  all.  Good-bye,  Sandy." 

They  shook  hands ;  in  a  moment  more  the  clatter 
of  the  mare's  hoofs  was  heard  out  on  the  road,  and 
the  guard  surprised  peered  after  the  rider  into  the 
blackness  of  night. 

"He's  not  afeerd  o'  the  deil  hissef;  but  it's  mesel 
that  dinna  loike  the  looks  of  things  nor  of  him 
nyther :  shure  and  the  lassie  has  worrit  a  bit  too 
much,  and  if  it  be  to  worrit  more  I'll  wait  a  bit." 

The  scout  gave  free  play  to  his  spurs,  with  a  reckless 
dash  into  the  dark,  but  his  limbs  fell  out  of  the  stir 
rups,  he  dropped  his  rein,  and  his  head  sank  low  on 
his  breast.  The  vigor  of  his  free,  open  nature  was 


310  SNAP. 

gone  ;  never  before  in  the  sweep  of  the  wild  gallop 
had  he  come  to  so  sudden  a  halt.  He  sat  on  his 
horse  in  the  darkened  solitude  as  one  stricken ;  never 
before  had  he  dreamed  with  his  eyes  open,  and  never 
had  his  strong  pulse  grown  feeble  at  the  touch  of  a 
sudden  chill.  He  felt  something  clearer  to  him  than 
he  had  ever  known,  something  more  bitter  than  his 
heart  had  ever  felt.  In  the  stillness,  heavy  upon  him, 
he  listened  ;  a  sound  far  away  had  caught  his  ear,  and 
somehow  it  cheered  him  like  the  whisper  of  a  better 
fate ;  again  he  heard  it,  now  louder  and  nearer,  like  a 
blast  of  the  harvest-horn  heard  over  the  meadows. 
He  turned  his  horse's  head,  he  knew  not  why,  and  rode 
back  to  the  landing.  The  boat  tied  up  and  he  stepped 
aboard. 

;f  Any  letters  for  the  post?"  he  asked  quickly. 

"Yes,"  said  the  clerk,  "here's  one  for  r  John  Beck, 
Cheviteau's  Landing.'" 

"That's  me;  let's  have  it."  Taking  the  missive  he 
tore  it  open. 

It  read  as  follows  : 

*'  LOUISVILLE,  KY. 
"  Mr.  JOHN  BECK  : 

"  Dear  Sir,  —  After  a  long  search  I  have  found  out 
your  present  abode,  and  this  is  to  inform  you  of  the 
death  of  Mrs.  Beck,  which  took  place  six  years  ago. 
She  left  all  the  property  unencumbered  and  subject  to 
your  disposal. 

"  Will  you  please  send  me  word,  in  what  way  you 


THE  S TR ONG  MAN'S  TRO UBLE  —  HIS  RE  WARD.     3 1 1 

wish  the  estate  attended  to ;  whether  to  be  held  in 
trust  for  you,  or  sold? 

"Very  truly  yours, 

"  GEO.  THATCHER,  Attorney" 

Not  even  a  word  of  regret  as  a  dying  legacy  from 
the  woman  who  had  embittered  his  youth ;  only  a 
formal  notice ;  only  this,  as  cold  as  the  slab  that  cov 
ered  her. 

Beck  sprang  to  the  wharf,  leaped  to  his  mare's  back 
and  dashed  forward ;  as  he  came  in  sight  of  the  house 
he  saw  Sandy  on  the  porch,  and  the  light  in  the 
window. 

"Stop,"  he  cried  as  he  jumped  down;  "come  heah, 
Sandy,  quick." 

The  man  turned  and  came  to  him. 

"  Whar's  the  papers  ?  "  he  asked  in  trembling 
haste. 

"It's  me  wat  has  em,  shure." 

The  scout  snatched  them  almost  rudely. 

rc  Take  the  mare  to  the  corral,  Sandy,"  he  said ;  "  I'll 
be  guard  to-night  " 

As  the  man  rode  away  Beck  tore  up  his  letter  to 
Mary,  and  with  the  open  will  in  his  hand  he  entered 
the  house.  Mary  glancing  at  him,  as  he  came  to  her 
through  the  dining-room  door  she  asked : 

"  What's  the  matter,  Mister  John,  you're  so  very 
pale  ?  " 

"  Am  I  pale  ?  Well,  Mary,  a  word  from  you  will 
bring  me  right." 


312  SNAP. 

"Come,  sit  down,  do,"  she  said,  with  a  tremulous 
voice  ;  "I  fear  you're  ill." 

He  sat  down  at  her  side  as  he  placed  the  will  in  her 
hand,  laying  his  finger  on  the  final  clause. 

"Read,  Mary,"  he  said,  "the  last  words  of  your 
father;  answer  me,  as  you  would  answer  him  if  he 
said  these  words  to  you." 

She  glanced  at  the  sentence  and  conned  each  word 
as  the  color  came  to  the  sweet,  sad  face  ;  in  the  light 
from  the  shaded  lamp,  to  Beck's  eyes  it  changed  to 
that  of  a  seraph's,  purely  beautiful ;  she  raised  her  gaze 
and  softly  it  fell  upon  his  own,  and  her  speech  was 
gentle  and  calm : 

"No  voice,  not  even  the  dead's,  Mister  John,  can 
command  my  love  for  you  ;  it's  yours," —  she  paused 
but  an  instant,  —  "  and  you  know  it,  don't  you?  " 

Like  a  little  saint's  her  arms  were  folded  on  her 
bosom  as  his  girdled  her  form. 

"  For  better,  for  worse,  as  my  wife? — Well,  Mary  ;  " 
and  suddenly  she  wreathed  her  arms  about  his  neck. 

He  drew  forth  from  his  pocket  the  Bible  that  had 
lain  there  many  days,  and  opening  it  on  the  page  where 
the  marker  pointed  to  the  old,  trite  lines,  he  read  them 
aloud  ;  he  closed  the  book  and  kissed  her ;  and  the 
man's  pent-up  nature  was  forever  freed  by  the  one  she 
gave  back  from  her  soul. 

On  a  sunny  morning,  John  Beck  and  Mary  Chevi- 
teau  joined  hands  in  the  village  church,  and  passed  out 
to  begin  life's  errand. 

Peter  Cheviteau  had  served  his  day  and  purpose, 


THE  STRONG-MAN'S  TROUBLE  — HIS  REWARD.    313 

and  had  served  them  well,  somewhat  in  the  fashion  of 
all  who  needed  caution  more  than  prowess  to  get 
round  the  perils  that  beset  them.  The  savage  was  too 
stern  a  foe  at  first  to  face  and  resist,  so  Peter  and  his 
like  with  prudent  steps  moved  slowly.  They  endured 
much,  and  bore  up  tinder  bloody  provocations  in  the 
hopeful  belief  that  time  would  strengthen  the  whites. 

They  were  not  disappointed.  From  the  seaboard 
striding  westward,  with  an  impulse  that  knew  no 
pause,  trade  crossed  the  mountains  of  the  Middle 
States,  and  where  the  snap  of  the  wagon-whip  grew 
faint,  the  louder  snap  of  the  ox-train  began ;  trade 
pushed  its  agents  to  the  front  to  widen  the  road ; 
bolder  men  were  sent  or  came  to  beat  down  and  over 
ride,  to  break  away  the  barriers,  to  "pull  through" 
straightly.  Beck,  a  born  captain,  was  found  in  the 
lead  ;  and  now,  with  the  way  clear,  at  once  sprang  up 
the  thrift  of  a  new  era ;  under  the  aegis  of  safety,  scat 
tered  groups  in  waiting  far  away  came  together,  set 
tled  down  in  content,  and  began  the  town. 

A  few  years  rolled  by  ;  Tim  Murphy  with  busy  feet 
waited  on  all  comers  to  his  inn.  Looking  in  on  his 
guests  at  a  table  where  "  a  squar  meal "  was  served,  he 
turned  about  to  wait  on  a  stranger  who-  stood  at  his 
bar.  The  man's  high  beaver  was  a  day's  wonder 
thereabout,  and  his  speech  was  that  of  the  East. 

"A  cocktail,"  he  said  to  Tim,  as  he  stroked  his 
beard. 

"Apfat?" 

"A  cocktail,"  repeated  the  other. 


314  SA'AP. 

Not  to  be  outdone  by  any  show  of  genius  in  his  line, 
which  the  East  might  claim,  Murphy  made  up  a  drink, 
known  in  those  remote  corners  as  an  "  eye-opener," — 
a  cross  between  aquafortis  and  "Thompson,  No.  6,:' — 
and  placed  it  on  the  counter. 

"  Jabers,  an  is't  that  ye'cl  be  afther,  me  boy,"  he 
said  with  a  show  of  triumph,  "it'll  raise  the  feders  of 
a  pay  cock ;  "  and  truth  to  say  it  satisfied. 

Tim  had  lived  well  and  had  prospered ;  the  path 
which  the  villagers  called  a  street,  wormed  its  crooked 
length  past  his  door,  and  Mary  Beck,  as  of  old,  walked 
daily  over  it  by  the  inn.  If  Tim  caught  a  glimpse 
of  her  as  she  came,  nothing  could  stay  him,  not  even 
the  profits  of  his  house.  He  said  he  was  in  duty 
bound,  and  his  bow  was  low.  He  bade  her  good 
morning  as  one  would  thank  a  princess,  and  if  there 
were  few  or  many  to  notice  him  he  never  failed  to 
add  : 

"  Whist,  d'ye  mind ;  that's  the  lady,  an  may  she  live 
a  tousen  yeahs." 

An  aged  pilgrim  came  one  day  from  the  "  sterang 
kontree  ; "  with  her  came  also  the  "  gude  man  jon,'' 
and  the  savings  of  years  in  his  pocket.  In  a  little 
while  thereafter  they  rented  the  store,  and  with  Mary's 
help  carried  on  a  brisk  sale  of  trifles.  It  was  John's 
rule  not  to  allow  his  gifts  to  droop,  so  at  odd  times  he 
managed  all  the  rough  jobs  that  were  needed.  He 
painted  the  logs  in  plain  white,  and  in  shining  contrast 
touched  up  the  chinking  between  with  a  blazing  red. 
It  Was  something  near  a  marvel  to  the  eyes  of  those 


THE  S  TR  ONG  MA  Ar'S  TR  O  UBL  E  —  If  IS  RE  WARD.     315 

who  gazed  on  the  old  fellow's  art,  and  he  spoke  of  it 
proudly,  as  a  conceit  to  hand  down  his  reverence  for 
the  flag,  which,  at  a  distance,  the  colors  resembled. 

In  his  useful  way,  to  fetch  and  carry,  and  to  lend  a 
ready  hand  in  all  things,  he  once  set  about  to  make  the 
place  look  new ;  to  brighten  the  shelving  and  to  scrub 
the  floor.  It  was  during  his  wife's  absence  that  he  fell 
to  work  with  soap  and  brush.  Her  pencil  marks 
against  certain  of  their  creditors,  were  kept  in  hidden 
spots  on  the  white  surface.  All  unknown  he  wiped 
out  the  " pV  and  "q's,'  and  settled  accounts  without 
striking  a  balance.  On  Melinda's  return,  her  first 
concern  was  to  look  up  these  debits,  and  her  scream 
brought  John  to  "  about  face  "  standing  at  present. 

"Yuse  gone  and  spy  led  us,"  she  cried. 

"How?"  he  answered,  bringing  his  hands  to  his 
side,  the  little  fingers  touching  the  seams  of  his  pants. 

"  We'se  busted,  John,  sho,"  she  said,  speaking  fast 
like  one  with  a  peck  of  trouble,  and  was  about  to  berate 
him  when  voices  were  heard  at  the  door.  It  was  the 
talk  of  the  men  in  her  debt  who  came  to  pass  an  hour 
over  their  mugs.  To  one  she  said  at  once,  with  easy 
wit  and  tact  : 

"  Them  chalks  of  yourn  run  up  to  twenty,  arn't  that 
right?"  It  was  a  venture  near  the  mark,  not  under  it. 

!f  Yes,"  each  in  turn  replied,  to  hold  on  to  her  favor. 
She  put  back  tLe  scores  as  debts  acknowledged,  with 
out  causing  a  doubt. 

Months  before  one  of  the  boats  had  set  Tobias  on 
shore  at  the  landing.  Sent  home  to  his  friends  as  a 


316  SNAP. 

harmless  simpleton,  and  as  all  things  have  their  uses, 
in  time  the  poor  wreck  found  much  for  his  hands  to 
do.  He  ran  errands  for  the  store  ;  was  stableman  on 
shares  with  Cato,  the  jockey ;  a  companion  of  the 
school-boys  in  their  games.  Under  his  care  the  vines 
grew  greener  about  the  porch,  and  the  flowers,  more 
deeply  tinted,  shut  out  the  heat  where  .Mary  sat.  One 
freak,  fashioned  out  of  a  mental  chaos,  he  held  to 
always  as  a  link  with  his  former  misery.  He  dug  a 
grave  and  covered  it  with  a  slab,  a  tomb  in  miniature, 
wherein  he  said  his  lost  child  slept.  At  times,  he 
delved  in  the  debris  of  the  old  cabin  and  carried  a 
spadeful  to  his  cave  and  buried  it.  A  pitiful  sight, 
that  of  a  mortal  bending  over  the  ashes  of  a  ruined 
past  entombed  in  the  remorse  of  the  present,  and  a 
truth  might  have  been  written  on  the  stone ;  the 
pursuit  of  so  low  a  passion  as  revenge  never  elevates, 
but  degrades  even  as  low  as  the  helpless  idiot. 

Doctor  Tom  returned  to  the  post ;  at  Beck's  request 
he  became  an  inmate  again  of  the  house,  and  one  of 
the  shutters  bore  the  rude  "shingle"  of  the  physician. 

At  first  sight  of  him,  the  parrot  cried  : 

"Hello!"  and  skipping  from  its  perch  with  an 
expression  almost  human,  stroked  its  wings  and  face 
on  the  Doctor's  feet. 

Beck  had  said  on  meeting  him  : 

"I've  read  the  papers  in  the  mahogany  case,  and  I've 
found  your  long-lost  brother." 

It  was  not  hard  to  trace  the  resemblance  between  the 
Tobias  Shorter  of  the  Doctor's  notes  and  the  poor 


THE  STRONG  MAN'S  TROUBLE  — HIS  REWARD.     317 

simpleton,  and  when  this  and  that  were  put  together, 
the  old  man  felt  the  force  of  each  coincident.  He  had 
not  seen  the  wanderer  for  many  years,  but  when 
brought  face  to  face  with  him,  the  recognition  was 
complete.  Ever  after  it  was  touching  to  see  the 
meeting  of  the  two,  as  there  seemed  to  be  a  glimmer 
of  some  past  episode  that  caused  the  feeble-minded 
man  to  smile.  And  the  Doctor  strove  hard  to  arouse 
some  recollection  through  which  he  might  be  better 
known,  but  he  dropped  the  hand  of  the  other  with  a, 
sigh. 

Doctor  Tom  Shorter  had  always  been  judge  in  the 
disputes  among  the  men,  and  the  umpire  of  their 
wagers.  When  the  ruder  forms  of  meting  out  justice 
had  passed  away  and  the  first  steps  of  political  govern 
ment  were  taken,  it  seemed  the  proper  thing  that  he 
should  be  made  a  magistrate.  There  were  many  per 
plexing  r  ifs  and  buts  "  to  be  squared  in  knotty  questions 
that  came  before  him,  but  he  managed  well  and  kept 
the  peace. 

Two  men  in  the  town  fell  out  about  a  small  debt. 
On  the  day  of  trial  before  his  honor  he  proposed  to 
them  a  basis  of  settlement  to  which  they  agreed  on 
condition  that  there  should  be  no  costs,  to  which  the 
Doctor,  in  his  official  capacity,  consented.  But  a  diffi 
culty  arose.  Heinrich,  who  had  been  duly  appointed  a 
constable,  and  who  had  a  right  to  his  fees,  was 
unwilling  to  give  them  up.  The  Doctor  tried  to  pre 
vail  with  him,  but  in  vain.  Finally  growing  impatient, 
as  he  considered  the  constable  a  mere  attache,  he  gave 


318  SNAP. 

a  peremptory  order  to  consent,  and  on  his  refusal  fined 
him  the  exact  amount  of  his  fees  for  contempt,  entered 
up  the  judgment  on  the  basis  of  the  compromise  and 
adjourned  the  court !  * 

Beck  dropped  in  at  the  school  very  often. 

"Schoolmaster,"  he  said,  one  day,  "I'll  bet  these 
boys  a  pony  they  can't  tell  the  duties  of  a  citizen." 

One  lad  looked  up  with  a  cheerful  face  and  seemed 
to  wrestle  with  the  question. 

"  If  you  know  speak  out,  sir,"  said  the  teacher. 

"  First,"  he  answered,  "  is  to  fear  God." 

"  Spoken  like  a  man  ;  what  next  ?  " 

"  To  love  his  country." 

"Right,  sir;  look  out,  Mister  Beck,  your  pony's  in 
danger ;  go  on,  little  man." 

The  lad  faltered ;  it  was  an  idea  of  his  own  at  which 
he  halted. 

"  Go  on,"  said  Beck,  "  you  shall  have  the  pony ; 
what's  the  next  duty  of  a  citizen  ?  " 

"  To  shoot  an  Injin ;  "  the  boy  answered  boldly,  and 
believed  what  he  said. 

"  That's  not  exactly  it,"  the  teacher  said,  but  Beck 
was  pleased  and  gave  up. 

"  He  can  have  the  pony,"  he  added,  laughing. 

On  the  fourth  of  July  following  the  little  horse  was 
presented  as  a  gift  from  John  Beck,  and  during  the  holi 
day  the  recipient  and  his  chums  put  the  pony  to  use,  boy 
fashion,  and  bantered  Mrs.  Garrulson  to  a  mount.  They 
helped  her  to  her  seat,  and  one  went  so  far  as  to  kneel, 

*  Adapted  from  "  Western  Character  —  McConnell." 


THE  STRONG  MAN'S  TROUBLE  — HIS  REWARD.     319 

v 

that  she  might  step  from  his  back  to  the  saddle,  while 
another  applied  a  match  to  an  explosive  which  hung 
from  the  pony's  tail.  What  followed  belongs  to  the 
chronicles  of  the  town  ;  a  legend  in  after  years  told  the 
story  of  a  horse  flying  by,  its  tail  on  fire,  and  puffing 
smoke  from  its  nostrils.  The  old  woman,  it  was  said, 
waited  her  turn  with  patience,  but  before  the  year  was 
over  she  had  thrashed  every  boy  in  that  school. 

Charles  Marshall  —  the  Whack  of  other  days  —  and 
his  charming  wife  Lu  made  their  home  at  the  old  place  ; 
the  trade  called  him  away  often,  and  she  travelled  with 
him.  The  baptismal  name  of  the  blessing  which 
heaven  sent  them  was  Mary  Cheviteau  Marshall ;  a 
blue-eyed  baby  beauty. 

Tim  Murphy,  not  once  or  twice,  but  many  times  to 
many  strangers,  as  he  stood  on  the  village  street, 
called  up  its  history ;  it  was  over  this  path,  he  would 
say,  that  Mary  came  to  visit  the  sick,  and  near  it  she 
sung,  when  the  infant  was  buried ;  along  it  she  sped  to 
the  help  of  the  women  and  children ;  over  it  ran  the 
savage  with  his  torch,  and  about  it  glared  the  rash, 
red  flames  of  that  terrible  midnight ;  here  rode  the 
rough  riders  to  the  bugle's  note,  and  madly  in  pursuit 
drove  the  invader  back. 

"Ah,  be  jabes,  me  boy,  yees  may  look  at  me, 
what's  lift  av  coorse  ;  an  yandcr's  the  stone-pile,  whar 
under  it  slapes  a  score  of  me  frens ;  an  we  font  like 
tigers,  do  ye  mind  ;  rest  to  their  sowls." 

"  John,'  said  Mary,  in  the  early  morning,  as  she  sat 
on  the  old  porch,  "look  there  !  " 


320  SNAP. 

He  came  and  stood  at  her  side,  looking  down  the 
walk;  a  broad,  bright  flood  of  the  summer  sunrise- 
light,  in  broken  glints  through  the  foliage,  fell  on  the 
porch  of  the  inn,  on  the  steps  of  the  cabin-store  ;  it 
gleamed  on  the  little  mound,  stole  into  the  school-house 
window;  it  shone  all  radiant  on  the  poplars,  and 
glanced  to  the  grave  of  the  trader ;  in  one  lone  ray, 
golden  and  glad,  it  clung  to  the  church's  spire. 

"  It  is  beautiful,  John,"  she  said. 

"Yes,  Mary,"  he  answered,  as  one  who  had  found 
his  content,  for  his  face  was  young  again  and  full  of 
hope  ;  "  the  sun  seems  to  think  it  good  what  the  law 
has  made  ;  and  the  law  calls  it  Mary svi lie." 

Just  then  their  baby  boy  came  running  to  out 
stretched  arms  ;  she  raised  him  to  her  shoulder,  turning 
the  fresh,  fair  face  to  the  beams  of  the  morning ;  every 
feature  was  his  mother's.  Type  of  a  new  generation, 
the  little  fellow  gazed  out  on  the  wide,  green  wonder 
and  clapped  his  hands  ;  looked  long  on  the  waste  whose 
spectres  his  father  had  felled,  that  he,  of  a  race  to 
come,  might  live  and  be  happy. 

Near  enough  to  please  him  with  the  whirl  of  the 
whip,  Beck  stood,  a  proud,  true,  sturdy  man,  as  he 
sprung  the  lash  with  the  old,  sharp  snap  ;  the  signal 
of  after  years,  when  the  Pathfinder  and  the  Goldseeker 
led  the  way,  which  was  heard  in  one  commingling 
sound  from  lines  of  trains  continuous,  beginning  at  the 
river  to  halt  by  "  the  deep  sounding  sea." 


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railway  train;  they  are  universally  commended.— J/i'rror  and  American,  Man 
chester,  N.  H. 

All  the  books  of  the  Satchel  Series  have  been  wall  received. — Presbyterian 
Jour.,  Phila. 


No. 

29.  A  Virginia  Belle 25c. 

28.  How  Bob  and  1  Kept  House. . .  .15c. 

27.  What's  the  Matter? 20c. 

26.  Yesterc  ays  in  Paris 25c. 

25.  Maple  Hall  Mystery 25c. 

24.  Mrs.  Singleton 40e. 

23.  Old  Nick's   Campmeetin' .50c. 

22.  One  Little  Indian 25c. 

21.  Vic 30c. 

20.  Persis 25c. 

19.  Ninety  Nine  Days 3oc. 

18.  Spiders  and  Eice  Pudding 25c. 

17.  How  it  Ended 25c. 

16.  Bera,  or  C.  and  M.  C.  E.  E 40c. 


No. 

15.  Gleumere 25c. 

14.  Poor  Theophilus 25c. 

13.  Only  a  Trauip 50«. 

12.  Who  Did  ItV 30c. 

11.  Our  Peggotties -jr>c. 

10.  Our  Winter  Eden. 30c. 

9.  Nobody's  Business .30c. 

8.  Story  of  the  Strike 30c. 

7.  Lily's  Lover 86c. 

6   Voice  of  a  Shell 40c. 

5.  Rosamond  Howard 2oc. 

4.  Appeal  to  Moody  (satire) lOc. 

3.  Bonny  Eagle     25c. 

2.  Prisons  Without  Walls 25c. 

1.  Traveller's  Grab  Bag 25c. 


Remarkably  clever.— .ZV.  Y.  Evening  Express. 

Readable  and  amusing. — American  Bookseller. 

Decidedly  bright  and  entertaining. — Chicago  Herald. 

Especially  desirable  as  companions  on  a  journey. — Sunny  South, 
Atlanta. 

Cheap,  convenient,  and  by  popular  authors. — Epis.  Methodist, 
Baltimore. 

Bright  and  breezy,  and  above  all,  pure  in  sentiment. — Boston 
Transcript. 

Breezy,  bright,  little  books,  always  unexceptionably  pure  in 
sentiment. — Cincinnati  Commercial. 

The  brightest  and  best  brief  works  by  American  authors  who 
are  well  known  to  the  reading  public.  They  have  proved  very 
popular. — Boston  Home  Journal. 

The  convenient  form  of  the  books  in  this  series,  and  their  brev 
ity,  lit  them 'especially  for  reading  upon  railway  trains  or  in  idle 
half-hours  anywhere. — N.  Y.  Evening  Post. 

The  "Satchel  Series" — a  significant  title,  as  the  handy  size, 
clear  print,  and  reasonable  length  of  each  book  seem  to  qualify 
it  for  being  read  in  railway  cars  and  slipped  into  the  convenient 
satchel,  safely  out  sight. — Phila.  Xews.