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

While she yet wondered, day dawned, finding her standing there by the empty blanket of Willie Pond, holding his rifle, and looking up the hill to see if he would not creep out, now that light had come and the Indians had gone.

A shrill neigh from the black horse called her attention toward the animal, and she saw the Texan riding into the valley on a keen run.

"Where is Bill?" she asked, as she ran to meet the rider, with Pond's blanket, hat, and rifle in her hand.

"Gone at full speed with his warriors on the trail of the Black Hillers, who have been alarmed in some way, and, have got at least two hours start. He sent me back to bring you and Pond along."

"Here is all of Mr. Pond that can be found," said Addie, holding up what she had found. "I went to the nest, the bird had flown, and the nest was cold."

The Texan rode quickly to the spot, and in a moment saw the trail over the ridge made by Pond when he had escaped.

"It was he who gave the alarm–him whom I believed so sleepy!" he muttered. "He must have seen Bill and the Indians when they first came, arranged his blanket and hat as you found it, and crept over the hill. When I cautioned him to keep quiet, I told him how near and in what direction they were. I see it all. Green as I took him to be, he has outwitted us all!"

"It is so. This is his horse–a noble animal, too. We will take that with us."

"Of course; and we must hurry on, for Bill is miles on the trail already. He will be even more surprised than we when he knows how the Black Hillers got warning. I'll not give much for Mr. Pond's hair," said the Texan.

In a few seconds the horse which Addie had ridden was saddled and ready, and, leaving his pack-horse behind, but leading the Black Hawk, the young Texan, with Addie Neidic by his side, dashed at full speed over the valley, and out of the ravine.

Once out on the open plain, they could see far away to the west a cloud of dust. It was made by the Sioux under the White Elk, who were pushing the horses to their wildest speed on the trail of the fugitives. This trail the Texan and Addie Neidic followed at their utmost speed.

The double trail made by the Black Hillers and the pursuing Indians would have been plain indeed to follow had not the column of dust served as a guide.

With their horses at full speed, and better than the general run of Indian ponies, the Texan and his fair companion gained slowly but surely on the Indians, and within an hour had passed the rear of their column, and were pressing well to the front.

Yet it was noon when they ranged alongside of Persimmon Bill himself, and reported the discovery Addie Neidic had made.

"One more scalp ahead of us," was all he said, when he heard the report.

And he pressed on still faster.

CHAPTER XVII.
UNLOOKED-FOR AID.

With their heavily-laden pack-horses, lengthy as their start was, the party under Chichester saw their pursuers plainly in their rear before the day was two-thirds passed, and Captain Jack, hurrying up the rear all he could, sent word to Chichester that the reds were gaining rapidly.

Chichester sent word back to press the rear forward at its utmost speed. He could see timber ahead, and if they could only reach it, they might be able to make a stand. Satisfied, from the report of Willie Pond, that over one hundred well-armed and well-mounted Indians were on his trail, fearful that many of his men would flinch in battle, he dared not, with the few that were true, make a stand on the open plain.

Had all been like Wild Bill, California Joe, and Captain Jack, he would have halted, rested his horses, and given the reds battle rather than fly from even treble his number. But he knew well that a few cowards would weaken the rest, and he wanted to get some shelter before he met such odds.

The timber was yet fully two hours' ride distant, half of the pack-horses had given out and been left, and many of the mounted men complained that they could not keep their horses much longer in the column.

Sam Chichester had been obliged to slacken the pace in front, and the enemy were gaining so fast that the glitter of their arms, could be seen even and the dust-cloud that rose above them.

Suddenly another column of dust was seen, and this appeared to come from the direction of the timber, though south of the route the Black Hillers were taking.

"Men!" muttered Sam Chichester, "there's no use in our running much farther. If that new cloud of dust is made by Indian's, all that we can do is to sell our lives as dearly as we can. We will soon know one thing or the other."

"They're not on the line we're taking. They can't be coming for us," said Captain Jack, who had ridden to the front. "They're coming in our flank."

"And night is coming, too," growled California Joe. "If we can keep on for two hours more, we'll have darkness to shield us, for no red will fight in the dark without he attacks, and has camp-fires to light up with."

"We'll keep them, on while an animal will move, and when we must, turn and fight for life or vengeance, if we must go under," said Chichester. "Forward, men–forward once more!"

Again Captain Jack took the post of honor, for such indeed was the rear guard in this case. Suddenly, on looking back, he saw that the Indians, instead of gaining, had come to a halt.

"They've given it up! they've given it up!" he cried, sending a messenger forward to Captain Chichester to slacken the speed of the column.

It was now almost sundown, and the men in the column, choked and thirsty, weary beyond expression, could hardly believe the news was true. They were soon satisfied, though, that it was; but it was not for an hour yet, when twilight was beginning to gather, that they learned the real cause of their present safety.

The Indians would have been upon them before night set in, had they not first discovered the nature of the dust cloud to the south-west, or rather who it was raised by. The field-glass of the Texan, even miles and miles away, had detected the flutter of cavalry guidons amid the dust, and showed that mounted troops were near enough to come to the aid of the Black Hill men before they could be crushed and their scalps taken.

So, much against his will, Persimmon Bill was obliged to slacken his pace, and soon to turn his course, so, as by a night march, to put his warriors beyond the reach of those who might turn on them.

When night fell, Chichester, joined by two companies of cavalry, bound for the Hills, under orders to join forces already on the way by another route, moved slowly to a camping-ground in the timber, for which he had been heading hours back.

The horses of the troops were weak from scant forage, and the commanding officer did not feel it his duty to wear them out chasing Indians, though he held himself ready to protect the mining party as long as they remained with him.

And they were just too willing to go on with such an escort, even with the loss of all the pack animals left on their trail; and had Persimmon Bill only halted, instead of falling back, he would have found that there was no danger of pursuit.

Chichester and Crawford, when they compared notes, and found not a man of their party lost, though half its property was gone, felt satisfied that it was no worse, for at one time it seemed to both that nothing was left to them but to sell their lives as dearly as they could.

In a well-guarded camp all were settled before the moon rose, and never was rest more needed by animals and men.

CHAPTER XVIII.
ON THE DEATH-TRAIL.

Bivouacked on the treeless plain, so far from the old trail and from the timber ahead that they could see no sign of the Black Hillers or the troops, the next morning's sun rose on the band of Sioux led by Persimmon Bill. Used to all kinds of exigencies, the red men did not mind either a lack of food or of water for so short a time. They were only angered with the thought that those whom they had deemed an easy prey had escaped them.

As soon as it was light, Persimmon Bill had the captured pack-horses examined, and it was found that several of them were laden with provisions. Others had ammunition and stores, and on some of them were found kegs of liquor.

These the wary leader at once destroyed, telling his followers that there was no foe so deadly to the red man as this fire-water and not one drop should pass his lips or theirs. The provisions were at once distributed among them, as also the stores, but the liquor was given to the thirsty sands, where at least it could do no harm.

Then a council was held by the leader with the chiefs and head warriors of the band, and it was decided that it would be foolish to pursue the Black Hill people farther, now that troops were with them, unless a large band of Sioux could be found. For it is not Indian policy to risk battle against odds, or where there is danger of great loss and little gain. To reach water and good hunting-grounds was their first necessity; after that they could consider where next to go. Sitting Bull was rallying all the tribes for war, and the "White Elk" had promised to join him.

Gloomily the young Texan heard all this talk, and at its close, when a decision had been arrived at, he said:

"Here we must part. I follow the trail of Wild Bill, if I follow it alone. I had hoped to see him die a slow and cruel death, where I could have heard him plead, and plead in vain for mercy. But that hope is gone, if he reaches the Hills in safety. But he cannot live–he shall not! I have sworn to kill him, and I will! The spirit of him who fell at Abilene cries up from a bloody grave for vengeance, and the cry shall be answered. You have been kind to me Addie Neidic, and so has he to whom your heart is given. I shall never forget it. But our courses now lie apart–I follow yonder trail, while you go I know not where. We may not meet again–if we do, I shall tell you Wild Bill is dead!"

"Stay with us. I will yet help you to your vengeance," said Persimmon Bill.

"No; it will be too long delayed. I am hot on the death-trail now, and I will not leave it. Fear not for me. I shall hover near them till they reach the Hills, and then I will not wait long to fulfill my work. When the deed is done, if I still think life is precious, and his friends press me too hard, I may look for safety, as you have done, with the Sioux."

"Come and you shall find in me a sister, and in him a brother," cried Addie Neidic.

"A brother? I had one once," came in a low, sobbing cry from the young Texan's lips; then, with his head bowed, and scalding tears rolling down his cheeks, he drove the spurs into his horse, and sped away swiftly in the direction of the old trail.

The Black Hawk horse, saddled and bridled, but riderless, galloped