Wild Bill's Last Trail by Ned Buntline (read people like a book .TXT) 📕

"Heaven help me! There is some fearful treachery here. Wild Bill and his companions are lost if they are not warned in time. How can it be done?"

How strangely, as if by intuition, strategy, and cunning thought come to some when environed by unlooked-for danger.

Without a moment's hesitation, Pond so arranged his blanket that if glanced at it would appear he was yet sleeping under it, for he left his hat on the stone where his head had been, and his rifle leaning against the tree right over it.

Then, bare-headed, with no weapons but his pistols and knife in his belt, he crept off up the hill-side with the silence and stealth of a scout who had been a life-time in the business. He wondered at himself as he began to scale the mountain-side, not daring to look back, how he could creep up amid those fearful crags so noiselessly, and how he could have got away unseen, when the Texan and those who were with him were not a pistol shot away.

On, on he kept, ever seeking the shadowed spots, where no moonlight could reveal his form, until at last he was on the very crest of the hill. Looking down he plainly saw the camp-fires of the Black Hillers below. They were most likely buried in slumber, and, if they had sentinels out, his life would be endangered by a rapid approach. But of this he seemed not to think as he hurried almost recklessly down through thickets, over crags, and along rugged gulches.

How he got down he hardly knew, but he was down, and rushing toward the nearest fire, when he heard a stern, short summons close in his front:

"Halt! Who comes there?"

A man, armed with rifle and pistols, stepped from the shadow of a tree, and Pond gasped out:

"A friend. A friend come to save all your lives. There are a hundred Indians within a mile of you, led by the desperado Persimmon Bill."

"Who are you?" was the stern inquiry.

"Wild Bill will know me. Take me to him, quick!" was the response.

"To our captain first. Come along!" said the sentinel.

The next moment Willie Pond was in the presence of Sam Chichester and Captain Jack, telling his story.

"It looks like truth, and if it is, the quicker we get out of here the better. If we can get fifteen or twenty miles the start we may keep it," said Chichester.

"He says Wild Bill knows him. Where is Bill?" cried Jack. "Ah, there he comes."

Bill, awakened by hearing his name called, was rising, and now approached the party.

Pond sprang forward, and addressed him hurriedly in whispered tones.

Wild Bill for an instant seemed lost in astonishment, his first exclamation being, "Great Heaven! you here?"

But after he heard the whispered words he only added, addressing Chichester:

"Captain, this friend of mine will not lie. We are in danger, and he has risked his life to save us. I want a spare horse for him, and the sooner we get from here, the better for our hair."

With as little noise as possible, the whole party were aroused, and the danger explained. Quickly the animals were saddled, and in less than twenty minutes the camp-ground was all deserted, though more fuel had been purposely heaped on the fires to keep up the appearance of occupation, if scouts should be sent to examine the camp.

"It lacks four hours yet to daylight!" said Chichester to Captain Jack, "We'll get just that much start, for they'll make no attack until just as day begins to break. I know the ways of them red cusses only too well."

"You haven't much the advantage of me in that kind of knowledge, Sam. But if that fellow was anywhere right as to their numbers, and the Sioux are well mounted, they'll bother us yet before we get to the hills, no matter if we do get eighteen or twenty miles the start!"

"We'll give 'em a long race and a tough tussle before they get our hair any way!" said Chichester. "I wonder who that fellow is? Bill seems to like him right well, for they ride as close as their horses can move together. Bill has supplied him with a hat–he came in bare-headed, you know."

"Yes; he must have had a terrible climb to get over to us. The only wonder is he got away undiscovered."

"He said he left his blanket in a shape to make them think he was sleeping under it."

"He must be an old hand to fool them so nicely."

"He doesn't look like it, He doesn't ride like a scout or a plainsman–he sits his horse too gracefully."

"No matter; one thing is certain. Wild Bill knows him well, trusts him, and they stick as close together as twins."

"Yes, Captain Jack, I wish you'd take the rear and make those packers keep up. There must be no lagging. If a horse or mule fails they must be left. I'll keep the advance going."

Thus the Black Hillers swept on at a gallop, knowing that a merciless fate was theirs if overtaken by the Sioux.

CHAPTER XVI.
THE PURSUIT.

The young Texan had not dreamed of being followed so soon by Persimmon Bill and his Indians, and he had lain down to sleep as honestly and confidently as Willie Pond, when he dropped down by the saddles and pack.

He was aroused by a touch on his shoulder, when he awoke and was surprised to find Bill and Addie Neidic standing by his side.

"Where are your Indians?" was the first question the Texan asked, as Bill whispered, in a low tone:

"I am here. I have followed the trail a little sooner than I thought I would. The Indians are in the ravine waiting for my signal to come in and let their horses feed and rest before we attack. Where is your friend?" continued Bill.

"Sound asleep under that tree up there. He sleeps like a log, and will not wake till I shake him up. I never saw such a sleeper. Yesterday he spent most of the day snoring."

"It is well. There is no use of alarming him before we are ready for work. I will give the signal, and let my warriors file in."

The outlaw waved a blanket in the air, and the Indians silently filed into the valley. At another signal they turned their horses loose to graze, and then gathered in groups out on the plain to take food and rest themselves while their leader conversed with the Texan, whom having seen before, they knew as his friend.

Meantime, the Texan motioning Addie Neidic and her lover to take seats on his blanket, conversed with the latter in a low tone on the plan of attack.

"I shall not make it until just as day dawns–for two reasons," said the outlaw. "First, then they will keep the most careless guard; second, when light is coming, we can see how to kill, and how to save the two whose lives are to be spared. We will do the work in a hurry when it is done. I have given my warriors their orders; most of them know Wild Bill and Captain Jack, for both have been on the reservations often when they have been in. For these reds can go where I cannot, and get arms and ammunition where I would not dare apply for them."

"Shall I not make you and Addie some coffee?" asked the Texan. "I can do it without danger, for I have a small alcohol lamp in my pack, which I had to keep for use when I could not get fuel.

"It will be refreshing, indeed, if there is no risk in making it," said Addie Neidic.

"There is none, and I will soon have it made," was the reply. Shaded from even Indian observation by the blanket he raised on some bushes, the young Texan speedily made a quart cupful of strong coffee, and shared it between the lady and her outlaw lover. It and some cooked meat he had gave them strength, and then all three lay down like the others to rest for an hour or two, the outlaw bidding one of his warriors keep watch, and to wake him when the morning star was seen over the trees in the east.

And little dreaming that their intended victims were far away from their camp, the Indians and their leader took rest preparation to their deadly work.

When his warrior sentinel awoke him, Persimmon Bill found that the morning star was well up, and it was full time to be moving toward the scene of action.

"You will stay here in the valley, dear Addie, till we come back," he said. "We will steal away quietly, and not wake that sleeping stranger if it can be helped, for he might, in his terror, fire his gun, or in some way give an alarm. Should he wake, hearing firing over there, keep him quiet with persuasion or your revolver until we return, and then if he is obstreperous, I will quiet him."

"Let me go with you, Bill," she said. "I am not afraid."

"It must not be, dear Addie, There is no need of your being exposed there, and it is well to have him watched here. Our main certainty of complete success is in a surprise. The least alarm may prevent it."

"I will remain then," she said. "And you need not fear for any alarm from him–for I know I can keep him quiet should he wake. I have a keen persuader here, if I have to use it."

And she touched a poniard in her belt, which also contained two good revolvers.

"An outlaw's bride," she added, smiling, "must be prepared to take care of herself."

The Indians now began silently to form their march, as they saw their white leader mount, and the young Texan also get his horse. The Black Hawk seemed uneasy that his master was not at hand, and the Texan was obliged to tie him by the side of the horse ridden by Addie Neidic before he would be quiet.

"It is strange that Mr. Pond does not wake with all this noise," said the Texan, as he rode off with Persimmon Bill. "But as I told you, he is the soundest sleeper I ever traveled with."

The Indians now filed away out of the valley as silently as they entered it, for, knowing the close vicinity of the other camp, they were aware how necessary it was to be cautious.

And now Addie Neidic stood alone, while the morning star rose higher and higher, gazing at what she supposed was the sleeping man on the knoll.

The moon had got so far around that she could see his hat, the rifle against the tree, and the outlines of his form, as she believed.

"I will move up and secure his rifle," she thought, after the band had been gone some time. "He might wake; and in his first alarm use it foolishly."

So she moved with a noiseless step within reach of the gun, and the next moment it was in her possession. Then she looked down, to see if he showed signs of waking. To her surprise, she saw no motions of a breathing form under the blanket. A closer look told her that if a form had been beneath the blanket, or a head under that hat, it was gone. And, feeling with her hand under the blanket, she, found it cold; no warm living form had been there for hours.

"He has been alarmed, seen us, and crept away–perhaps is hiding in terror in the brush," she muttered.

She did not even then realize that he might have fled away to alarm the other camp. She did not even understand several shrill yells, which reached her ear from over the hill. She had not been with the Sioux long enough to know their cries. These yells were the signal cries of scouts sent in, who had found a deserted camp. She