The Hunter Hercules, or, The Champion Rider of the Plains: A Romance of the Prairies (2024)

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1872, by
FRANK STARR & CO.,
In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.

CONTENTS

I The Young Hunter’s First Prize 9

II The Knight and the “Ladie Fair.” 11

III The Comanches’ Prize 14

IV The Two Wizards 18

V Two Queer Men 22

VI The Circus-Rider Magician 27

VII A Trial of Speed for Scalps 31

VIII The Manitou Must be Obeyed 35

IX The White Wizard Drugs the Guard 39

X A Wild Race for Life 44

XI Muzzle to Muzzle, and Who Will Win? 48

XII Chased by the Flames 52

XIII Fighting Fire with Fire 57

XIV A Brilliant Exploit With an Umbrella 61

XV Why Ralph Was Called the “Hunter Hercules.” 66

XVI Donna Iola Meets the Trailers 70

XVII A Stern Chase is Generally a Long One 74

XVIII Red Buffalo Meets His Fate 77

XIX Hilt to Hilt and Face to Face 82

XX Winding up the Tale 86

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CHAPTER I.
THE YOUNG HUNTER’S FIRST PRIZE.

It was a beautiful scene. Not a cloud marred the vastblue dome of heaven. Autumn reigned supreme in the LoneStar State, where brave Houston fought, and valiant Bowiefell at the Alamo. Near the Comanche ground on the farnorth-western border of the State we would bring the readeron this bright, cheerful morning in October.

The prairie which, a month or two before, had presenteda beautiful aspect of flowers and green grass, had been literallybaked to a rich brown color, and now, moved by thebreeze that was blowing the long, dry grass, looked for allthe world like the waves of the ocean or an inland sea.

Riding leisurely across the prairie was a young man ofabout twenty-two or three. He wore a complete suit of finebuck-skin, which, it was plainly apparent, had been made bya “regular” tailor, for it bore none of the marks which almostalways distinguish the clothes of the old trapper.

The suit was beautifully made and ornamented, and trulybecame the fine form of the owner. The head-covering ofthe young equestrian was a large felt, which kept the sunfrom his face and might prove almost as effective as an umbrella,in case of a shower.

The face underneath the hat was a resolute one.

The eyes were gray and piercing; the nose, rather largeand slightly inclined to the Roman, but was perfect for allthat; the cheek-bones high and the mouth firm.

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On his upper lip, the rider sported a fine mustache, andtaken altogether, he was a very “good-looking fellow.”

The form of the young hunter was not large, but thereappeared to be a vast amount of strength in that well-knitframe.

The horse upon which he was seated was a large bay, theexquisite shape of whose limbs proved that it was a goodrunner. The horse had indeed been selected on account ofits speed, and could show a clean pair of heels to ninety-nineout of a hundred of its fellows.

The arms of the young man consisted of a light rifle whichhe carried across the pommel of his saddle, a pair of revolversin his belt, and, keeping them company, was a sharp,two-edged hunting knife. Although a stranger on the plainsof the Great West, Chauncy Branrare was no novice in theart of hunting. He could bring down a deer as well as themost experienced hunter. His hand was steady and his eyequick and sure.

He was the only son of a wealthy citizen of New York,and had made this trip to the South-west in a spirit of adventure.Chauncy had traveled over Europe; had hunted inAsia, Africa and South America, and was now to satisfy hislove of the wild excitements of the chase by a season in theSouth-west.

Chauncy had intended to secure an old hunter for a guide,who was an old friend of his father’s. Many years before,the two had fought in the Mexican war, side by side, and thehunter’s life had been saved by his comrade in arms, whichmade them good friends. After the war Chauncy’s fatherreturned to his home in the North, and several times receivedscrawling letters from the old hunter, but the two had neverseen each other since their parting.

Disappointed in meeting the old Texan, Chauncy hadstarted out alone, determined that he would not wait in thelittle border town for the old ranger’s return.

He had a mission to accomplish if possible, for he had notcome out for the hunting alone. An uncle had died and lefttwo-thirds of his estate, which was large, to an adopted sonand the other third to Chauncy. This adopted son havinghad a quarrel with the uncle had gone “out West.” No one11had heard of him for years, and it was not an unlikely thingfor him to be dead.

Mr. Branrare was to institute a search for him, and if hewas not found at the end of a year, then the former was toassume possession of the fortune bequeathed to the missingman.

The horse of the young man was approaching one of thenumerous “mottes” of trees which spot the prairies of Texas.Suddenly he started and looked around.

It was a sound which, in any place, would have awakenedall that was chivalrous in his nature. It was a cry for help,and it was a woman’s voice!

It came from the trees, not once but twice—thrice, andwithout hesitation the young hunter dashed his spurs into thesides of his horse, when, like a flash, the noble animal dartedforward and in a moment reached the trees.

Throwing himself from his horse, Chauncy rushed inamong the undergrowth rifle in hand. He reached the edgeof a small glade with a few bounds, and a thrilling sight wasbefore him.

On the limb of a tree opposite to him was a large pantherflattened out for a leap. Not five yards from the tree was ayoung girl, her face blanched with terror!

CHAPTER II.
THE KNIGHT AND THE “LADIE FAIR.”

A panther and its prey!

A panther and its foe!

Quickly raising his rifle the young man, with nerves assteady as steel and lips compressed with a fierce courage, tooka quick aim and the hammer fell. Then a sharp, whip-likecrack, and, with a scream that seemed half-human, the panthergave a leap from the tree, straight toward the girl, but,impelled by agony and a baffled purpose, the leap sent himseveral feet past the crouching figure of the maid.

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Chauncy had expected this, and before the animal couldturn he was upon it, knife in hand.

A few stabs sufficed to let out the little life that was in thepanther, and then Chauncy arose to his feet.

Wiping his bloody knife upon the body of the slain creature,he put that weapon back into his belt.

Then for the first time he turned his eyes upon the maidenhe had saved. A cry of surprise and admiration came fromhis lips as his eyes fell upon her. She was now upon herfeet. Large, flashing black eyes, a pearl-like forehead, chinand nose, an exquisitely molded mouth, all framed with silkyblack hair which reached far below her waist!

Such was the picture before the young man.

The wild look was still in her eyes as she turned themupon her rescuer.

“I hope you have not received any hurt,” said he, advancing.

“No, sir; thanks to your timely arrival I have escapedfrom a fearful death. Oh, sir, you must excuse me if I donot thank you sufficiently. What I have gone through hasunnerved me,” said the fair girl, in a voice which to Chauncyseemed the sweetest he had ever heard in all his life.

“Any one would have done the same,” he said.

This seems to be the regular programme on such occasions,and Chauncy followed the general rule, most probably becausehe knew nothing else that would be so appropriate.

“I beg your pardon, sir, but any one would not have donewhat you have,” replied the other.

“Then he would have been nothing but a brute. I hadhardly time to aim and fire, but I am sure that had I seenyour face I would never have shot the panther,” exclaimedChauncy.

“And why not?” questioned the beautiful maiden.

“Because I could not have taken my eyes off of it! Youmust pardon me if I seem rude, but the truth is, I am surprisedat seeing a woman out here, and a young and beautifulone at that.”

“It does not matter, sir. If you are surprised at seeingme here I must confess that I am equally surprised at yoursudden appearance. I had no idea a human being, except it13be Comanches, was within twenty miles of this spot, and theyare as bad as the panther. You must know, then, that I wasvery much astonished when you fired your gun.”

Chauncy did not have to remain long in suspense, for shetold her story in a very few words.

Her name was Donna Iola, and she was the daughter of anAmerican who had married a Mexican. She had been outriding and had been captured by a band of Comanches, underthe chief Red Buffalo. They had taken her north totheir village, and from thence, in the night, she managed toescape on one of the mustangs.

It was the second night before. Upon reaching the groveof trees she had entered and tied her horse, while she searchedaround for berries or something to eat. It was then thatthe panther had come upon her.

Knowing that she must be hungry, the young hunter lefther for awhile, but returned ere long with a brace of birdswhich with a true hunter’s skill he prepared for the spit.Then a fire was kindled, and in due time the savory repastwas ready.

They were not long in dispatching this, and then, after agood drink of water from the cool spring, the Donna declaredherself ready for her ride homeward.

Of course Chauncy had resolved to accompany her to thehacienda of her father, and the two started off, going in asoutherly direction.

As they rode along, Chauncy noticed that the Donna’shorse seemed quite tired, and he decided to stop in the nextclump of trees they came to.

It was nearly three hours before they reached this, andthen they were amply repaid for their trouble, for in the cool,shady grove was a spring of water.

The two horses were tied to trees, and then the two youngpeople wandered about among the trees, talking and laughing.

Had the hunter been an old hand at Indian-fighting hewould never have idled the precious time away in this manner.

That the Comanches would follow up the Donna’s trail wasa sure thing, and delay was dangerous.

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But entirely unconscious of what they were doing, the tworemained in the grove for several hours.

Dinner was eaten, and then they prepared to departabout the middle of the afternoon.

The air was rather cool now, and they enjoyed the ridevery much. The horse that the Donna rode was a little refreshedby the rest, and could no doubt hold out until evening.

They had not gone a mile from the grove when Chauncyheard the sound of horses’ hoofs pounding upon the groundbehind him, and turning in his saddle he saw to his extremeastonishment and chagrin, a band of Comanches coming afterthem.

They had tracked the Donna Iola to the grove, and werenow following her.

CHAPTER III.
THE COMANCHES’ PRIZE.

Chauncy could not help wondering why he had not seenthe Indians before. The truth of it, however, was, that hehad not been on the look-out for them and hence did not seethem.

They had come up to the grove, and when the young manfirst heard and saw them, were just coming out from amongthe trees. This was a sudden and startling interruption tothe tete-a-tete he was having with the Donna Iola.

A word sufficed to explain to the Donna the cause of hispale face. Chauncy had no fear for himself. He wasmounted on a fast horse and could have escaped in a trice,but he would sooner cut off his right hand than desert hisfair companion.

The mustang was put to its fastest speed, and for a milemanaged to keep its distance. Then the Indians began gaining,at first slowly and then more rapidly, until at lengthChauncy saw that in fifteen minutes more the Comancheswould overtake them. What then would be their fate?

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He most probably would be burned at the stake, while theDonna would become the squaw of the chief, Red Buffalo.

How could they escape?

Suddenly he thought of his horse. Not one of the Comanchescould overtake the “Ranger,” as his steed was called.

One only could escape, and that one must be the DonnaIola.

The exchange of horses only took a few seconds, but duringthat time the Indians gained upon them considerably.

The Donna did not know what Chauncy meant by changinghorses, and when he told her of his plan she refusedright up and down to desert him. Chauncy knew how tobring her round, however. He told her that if both werecaptured there was no chance for escape, whereas if one gotoff that one could bring assistance and thus both would escape.

The Donna saw that this was a fact, and gave her consentto go, but she resolved to stick to Chauncy until the last moment.

The Comanches, led by Red Buffalo himself, came rushingon like a whirlwind, uttering loud yells now and then.

They felt sure that the two fugitives were as good as intheir power, and why should they not?

Were they not gaining rapidly on them and was not oneof the horses giving out? Red Buffalo had begun to despondabout ever finding the young Donna, and now thatshe seemed within his grasp, he began to feel a fierce joy.

She would never escape from him again if he once got herto the Indian village. The sharp young girl had druggedthe squaw in whose charge she had been given, and whilethe latter was sleeping had made her escape, taking somefood and a horse with her. Unluckily for her (though anexcellent judge of horses) she happened in the darkness toget a poor steed out of the horse-corral, and now the horsewas breaking down.

At length Chauncy told the Donna that she must leavehim at once if she hoped to ever escape. If the Indians gotclose up and she tried to make off on the bay steed, theywould fire, not at her but the horse, and would in all probabilitywound or kill him. In either case the Donna would16be captured and then there would be no chance for them,for none could know that they were prisoners in the Indianvillage.

The Donna could not but obey the words of the youngman. A word from Chauncy sent the bay horse forwardwith a dash. Off he went like an arrow shot from the bow.The Donna as she left Chauncy turned in the saddle and casta glance of sorrow and something else at the young man.

Even in this critical moment, Chauncy felt a thrill of joyrun through his form, for by that look he realized that hewas beloved by the beautiful young Donna.

Such a world of feeling as there was in those large blackeyes.

Love and sorrow mingled with reproach. The former becauseshe had to leave him, and the latter because he had senther from him. Chauncy knew that it was for the best,and but for this he would have recalled the Donna to hisside.

It pained him greatly to be separated from the young girlin this manner, and naturally he felt kind of mad at thosewho had been the cause of it.

The Indians gave vent to a yell of rage when they saw thenoble bay steed dart off with his light but unwilling burden.

They urged their horses on to as fast a speed as they could,but it was no use. The Donna went five yards to their threeand easily distanced them.

Chauncy took a last look at the fast receding form of theDonna and then turned his attention to the mustang.

He saw a grove of trees not far to the south-west, andheading his horse toward these he rode forward.

Chauncy was a splendid horseman, and knew all of thetricks that class of men use to keep up the speed of theirhorses. By sundry tricks he managed to increase the speedof his horse so much that it held its own against the betterand fresher horses of the Comanches. The latter were in abad enough humor at the escape of the Donna, and the sightof the young hunter keeping the same distance away fromthem infuriated them.

They thought that he was going to escape, and resolved17that he never would get off alive. They would rather killhim on the spot than that this should happen.

A volley of bullets were sent after him, but none touchedthe hunter, although several whizzed past him in rather closeproximity. His horse was not so lucky, however.

One of the bullets struck it, and the poor animal reeledand staggered for a moment before falling to the ground.

There was no need of this. The Comanches ought tohave known that the speed which the hunter had got out ofhis horse was its last efforts, and in all probability it wouldhave dropped down after reaching the trees.

Chauncy, with an active leap, managed to get off from thehorse without getting his horse upon his legs.

He did not stop an instant after putting his feet uponterra firma, but made tracks for the trees, using all the speedhe could command. The Indians dashed after him, but theywere too late to catch him.

He reached the trees, and, jumping quickly behind one,turned and presented his rifle at the foe.

There was only one man, and twenty Comanches are notin the habit of stopping when this is the case.

So the Indians kept on, although they felt sure that somewere rushing to their death.

Crack, went the rifle of the young hunter, and obeying thesharp and decisive summons, the Indian nearest Red Buffalostarted on his way to the red-man’s “happy hunting-grounds.”

This was quick work, but the rest of the Indians did nothang back. The hunter’s rifle was empty now, and theymust give him no time to load up. They did not know thatChauncy had not the least idea of loading up his gun.

Crack, crack, went the only revolver Chauncy had withhim, the other being in the holster at his saddle-bow.

Again the deadly revolver sounded and still another Indianthrew up his hands and fell from the back of his horse.

Chauncy was making deadly work among the foe with hissingle revolver. At length it was empty, and the Indiansall around him on foot, they having thrown themselves fromtheir horses.

With his discharged revolver, Chauncy gave one of thered villains a hard blow in the stomach and then he had to18defend himself. Bravely and manfully did he fight againstthe crowd of Indians, but with all his courage he knew thatthere was no chance of escape. At length he was overpoweredby numbers, thrown down and his hands bound behindhim. His knife was red with the blood of several of theComanches, and the wounded ones cast glances of hatred athim as their movements caused their cuts to hurt.

The Comanches then looked round upon the scene.

Five men were dead, while others were wounded more orless, and as they wanted to get away from this spot as soonas possible, the dead were buried, and then mounting Chauncyon one of the slain warriors’ horses, the whole band set off.

CHAPTER IV.
THE TWO WIZARDS.

Chauncy swept the prairie with his eyes in the directionthe Donna had gone, but she was not in sight. A feeling ofjoy went through him, for he knew that she had escaped.

The Indians made straight for their village, but had notgone many miles before darkness came on.

The moon did not rise until late, but when she did, it wasto light up the earth almost as well as the sun would havedone. The Indians halted and ate their supper when it wasdark and let their horses rest for several hours.

When the moon put in an appearance in the East, theymounted their horses and set out for the village.

Hour after hour passed away and it was nearly daybreakbefore they at length reached the village of the Comanches.

The tired horses knew by instinct that they were nearhome, and they whinnied their approbation and delight.

The Comanches themselves were not less glad, for theyhad been absent two days and two nights, and the greaterpart of that time had been spent in riding.

The village was quiet when they reached it, but it did notremain so long. Horses neighed, dogs barked, warriors19yelled, pappooses screamed and women did any thing andevery thing.

The prisoner was immediately thrust into a lodge and aguard set over him. Chauncy had had no sleep that night,and yet he could not shut his eyes now. So restless was hethat he could not lay down, but with scheming brain hewalked across his narrow prison, time after time.

Many plans for his escape suggested themselves, but hecould do nothing with his hands tied behind him, and, notwithstandingall of his desperate efforts, he could not getthem loose.

Then his mind turned to the Donna.

He wondered if she would get any aid. Chauncy knewthat her father the Don was a property owner, and that hehad peons and vaqueroes under him. The Donna had toldhim that her father had undoubtedly come after her with hismen.

She might meet them on her way and bring them to hisrescue. And again the chances were about equal that shemight miss them, and even if she did get them, would theyattack the Indian village on account of a man whom theyhad never seen?

Chauncy had heard his father speak of the Mexicans sooften and in such disparaging terms that the young man hadcome to think them all first-class cowards.

He did not know that, though taken as a class, they arecowards, yet among them are many brave men.

Every nation has its defects, and in some this one is greaterthan in others. The young man managed to think of a gooddeal in the short time that intervened between his beingthrust into the lodge and daybreak.

The Comanches did not know that in the grove about halfa mile from the village, a man mounted on a beautiful snow-whitehorse, was watching them as they entered the villagewith their prisoner. The man was not a bad-looking fellow,and was about thirty years old. The horse would have excitedthe envy of any man, especially a Comanche, who canjudge horses so well.

Faultless in the shape and symmetry of its limbs, with afull, broad chest, arched neck, perfect head, large eyes, long20mane and tail, the animal presented a splendid sight to thebeholder.

There was no saddle on its back, only a broad band ofdark-blue cloth, about four inches wide.

The bridle was a strong and beautiful one, silver-mountedand evidently worth a good deal of money.

On the horse, back of the band, was a bundle of whatseemed to be clothes. The man carried a rifle in his hand,and in his belt were two revolvers, the accouterments to theformer being in their places.

The man was muttering to himself as he watched the Indiansgo past.

“The poor fellow,” said he, “he’s doomed to the stake.I came out here for adventures and fun, and now I have achance for both and to do a good deed at the same time. Assure as my name is Barry Le Clare, the champion barebackrider, jumper, et cetera, I’ll do it. What d’ye say, SnowCloud, shall we put up our posters announcing that we willgive an exhibition free to-morrow?” turning as he spoke, tohis horse. The intelligent animal seemed to understandevery word that was spoken, and gave a low whinny as itrubbed its velvety muzzle against the cheek of its master.

His words explained the strange appearance of the horse,and also the bundle on its back. The man had been a circusactor all his life, and having made lots of money and savedit too, he had with his celebrated horse left the circus lifeand come out West to enjoy himself. He could not bear asaddle even if the horse would have one on, which it certainlywould not, having an antipathy against them. Just atbreak of day, while Barry, as we must call him, was stillcogitating, leaning on his beautiful steed, he heard more yellsin the village and knew that one or more new prisoners hadbeen brought in. Who they were he knew not, for he couldnot see them, as they had entered the village from the oppositeside.

He resolved, however, to try and save them all, and aftermaking this resolve he left his horse’s side, taking the bundlefrom his back, and began to change his clothes.

Fifteen minutes passed away and then a horseman emergedfrom the grove of trees and began to ride toward the village.

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He was at once discovered by the Comanches and thewhole village was soon staring at him.

And indeed he did present a curious sight.

He was attired in regular circus costume, tights of flesh-coloredstuff being on his body and limbs, and the bluecloth covered with spangles about his loins. He wore ajaunty cap, and his curly black hair was put back behind hisears.

The white horse was the same as before, only it carried nobundle.

The clothes of the circus-rider had been left in the woods,together with his rifle, revolvers and knife.

On his feet, in place of the fashionable boots he had onbefore, were a pair of pumps, such as the bareback ridersuse.

The Indians were greatly astonished at this sight.

As the horseman came nearer and nearer they thought helooked like a maniac, and yet again the smile which, notwithstandingall his efforts to repress it, came to his face when hesaw the startled looks of the Indians, went far to convincethem that he was sane. He rode slowly into the village untilhe came to the center.

Here he stopped his horse and sat upon him, lookingaround him at the crowd of dusky faces that were upturnedin wonder.

At length the chief, Red Buffalo, came up, and not knowingwhether the new-comer was a crazy man whom he mustrespect, or some pale-face making fun of him and his warriorswhom he must capture, he asked him what he meant by cominginto the village.

“What has come upon the Comanches, that they recognizenot the agent of the Manitou? I am the White Wizard,and am in communication with the Great Manitou,” said theother, in deep tones.

The Indians were about to believe this, and it would havebeen an easy thing for them to do so, as the curious garb ofthe rider made them feel sure that he was no common man,but at this instant the magician of the village, a tall, bonyman, dressed in skins and having a terribly ugly face, steppedout.

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“The pale-face lies. He is an impostor. None but Muchanaigocan hold communication with the Manitou. Lastnight I had a dream: I dreamt that a lying pale-face cameinto the village to try and rescue the prisoners, and he wasburned at the stake with them. Warriors, seize the coward.It is Muchanaigo that speaks. He must be obeyed or a cursewill fall upon the Comanches.”

With a yell the warriors sprung forward to obey the Wizard.

“Hold,” cried a voice, which seemed to come from theblue sky above. “Let not a warrior lay a hand upon theWhite Wizard. He who but touches him dies by the lightning.Beware. Let Muchanaigo kneel or he will be takenaway by the wind and cast into the den of snakes which iskept for false wizards.”

Horror-stricken the Red Wizard fell upon his knees. Herewas one who was greater than himself, and to whom hemust bend his knee. Many of the Indians followed his example,for they thought that when their Wizard was scared, itwas time for them to be humble.

CHAPTER V.
TWO QUEER MEN.

Chauncy heard a commotion in the village shortly afterdaybreak. Soon the door of the lodge was opened and acouple of men who had their hands tied behind them just ashe did, were thrust in.

They did not see Chauncy, who was standing in a cornerof the lodge. They had just come in from the light, andcould not see in the dim room for several moments. Chauncycould see them plainly, however, and he saw that there wasa slight difference in size between the two men. One wasabout six feet three, while the other could not be over fivefeet at the most.

The first was a trapper, being dressed in tanned buckskin,23while the second man was clothed in a suit of broadcloth.

Who were these two men, who seemed so entirely opposite?

Chauncy did not ask the question. There was no needof it, for as the little man entered the lodge, urged on by thefoot of the Indian guard, he immediately staggered and fellon his back. Struggling to his feet he turned his back tothat of his comrade.

“Sacré,” cried the little man, in unmistakably French accents.“It is von shame to throw a citizen of la belleFrance about in that vay. I s’all complain to de Emperoran’ he will adjust de difficulty. If you please, monsieur, Iwould be much obliged if you give my back von leetlescratch. It feels itchy.”

“Why, you frog-eating Parley Voo. D’ye think I’m ascratchin’-post? I didn’t hire out fur that. Ye ought to knowRalph Bison better nor that. Go an’ scratch yer peskyback ag’in’ the side o’ the lodge,” exclaimed the other, in asour tone.

“Diable, your advice is good, monsieur, and I s’all followout von glorious idea. I may rub a hole through the vallan’ we s’all escape,” and the little Frenchman was about todo what he said, despite the laughter of his comrade, whenthe voice of Chauncy made one straighten his face and theother forget the itch in his back.

“So this is Ralph Bison, is it?” asked the young hunter.

“Yas, I’m the feller ye mention, commonly called,” saidthe trapper, recovering from his surprise at being addressed,when he thought he and the Frenchman were alone.

“Well,” said Chauncy, “I wanted to get you to go out onthe plains with me, but I found you had gone off with anaturalist, and I suppose monsieur must be the gentleman;”with a bow in that direction.

“Parbleu, but you are quite right, monsieur. I am sure itis von happy meeting. I’m from France, and am MonsieurTierney.”

“And I am Chauncy Branrare, of New York,” said theother.

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“What’s that, boyee? Air ye any relation to Capten Branrarethat fit in the Mexican war?” questioned the trapper.

“He is my father. He told me to hunt you up, Ralph,and though I expected to see you before I went East again,yet I assure you I had no expectation that we would meetthus.”

“Yer hand, boyee. So ye are the cap’s son. Come overter the light. Dang it if you don’t look just like him now.But how in the mischief did ye come hyar? Reds caught yea-nappin’, I guess.”

“Not much,” returned our hero, and he then proceededto tell his story.

The hunter’s eyes opened wide when he learned thatChauncy had killed five of the Comanches before he wascaptured.

“Yer hand ag’in, boyee. Ye beat yer daddy. Why Ionly knocked over three, and the Frenchy nearly killed onewid his umbrella afore they got us,” said Ralph.

“Oh, mine poor umbrella. It is von shame for the noblered-men to take it from me. I have been to Africa, and half-vayaround de vorld, an’ de umbrella vas vith me alvays. Is’all certainly complain ven I get home,” said Monsieur Tierney.

“But ye’ll never git home, Parley Voo. The reds intendter roast ye an’ have some fun out o’ ye,” said Ralph.

“Mon Dieu, but de red-men vill not do dat. Dey vill nohurt a poor Frenchman. Begar, I vill send von complaintto de Emperor, an’ den I vill get avay. Now vat you think,monsieur?”

“I think yer a durned fool, thet’s what I think. We arelookin’ death in the face now, an’ things look bad fur us.

“What’s all that row about, boyee? Thar’s somethin’ up,”said the hunter, as he walked over to the window.

Upon looking out he could at first see nothing, but soonthe circus-rider, mounted on his snow-white horse, and followedby the Indians, came in sight.

Ralph knew not what to make of it, and he called hiscomrades to his side. The three looked out of the smallbarred aperture, and Chauncy saw at a glance what the manwas.

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The Frenchman understood him when he mentioned whatthe rider was, but Ralph had to have it explained to him.

But what was the man doing here?

He did not seem to be a captive, neither did he seem tobelong to the village. It was an enigma that none of thetrio could solve.

That the man had some purpose in coming to the villagewas certain, for no man would be foolish enough to go inamong his enemies, unless he had some object in view.

They could not hear the words that were uttered, but theysaw the warriors as they started forward, and then saw themfall upon their knees around the mysterious rider and hiswhite steed.

Who he was they could not guess, neither could they thinkof any reason that would make the Indians afraid of him.

The Red Wizard soon got up and went off, followed bythe pale-face and his horse. The Indians gave way for them,and dared not go within five feet of the stranger, for fearthey should accidentally touch him, and they rememberedwhat the Manitou had said respecting their touching him.

They did not want to be killed by a thunderbolt, and hencethey kept away from the White Wizard.

The latter by using his ventriloquist powers had completelysubdued the magician, and the latter now feared himgreatly.

The Comanches were afraid of their Wizard, for they hadseen the inside of his hut, and they knew that it containedsuch things as skeletons, snakes, reptiles, and many otherhorrible things.

Therefore when a person appeared who could make theRed Wizard bow to him, it was but natural that they shouldfear him.

Barry Le Clare was shown to the large medicine-lodge, andhe entered, taking his horse with him.

The Red Wizard waited at the door of the cave in thehope of seeing the pale-face hold communication with theManitou, but a keen glance from the sharp eyes of the latterscared him, and thinking that the latter might call down thecurse of the Manitou upon him, he hurried off.

The Indians had resolved to show the White Wizard a26fine sight that morning. This would be the burning of thethree prisoners.

Soon after the pale-face had disappeared in the medicine-tent,a loud howling arose in the village.

The French naturalist carried a little case with him, inwhich to put the rare things that he found.

The Comanches had taken this, and a huge green umbrellamade of the strongest silk, from monsieur when he was captured.

After the Wizard had gone, one Indian, more curious thanhis brethren, opened the case and began tasting what was inthe little vials. Soon he began to feel a little sick, and acrowd gathered around. He got worse every ten seconds,and at length, swollen up terribly, he lay upon the ground,dead.

It was then that the howls echoed through the village.

Not one of the Indians would touch either the box or theumbrella after this. Even the magician was afraid of them,for he said that even the touch of a bottle was poison.

Barry came out to see what the noise was, and he increasedhis popularity with the Indians by tasting a dozen bottles.

He could read the names on them, which the Indianscould not.

One of the Indians thought he could do the same, and signifiedas much. By a sleight of hand Barry changed thebottles, and the man thought he had the same one the pale-facehad just tasted.

It proved to be an emetic, and the fellow soon amused therest of the Indians by his working face and heaving stomach.

The pale-face shut up the case and took it into the medicine-lodge,where he had left his horse.

Soon after, the three prisoners were brought out to betried before the council, and to be doomed to the stake.

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CHAPTER VI.
THE CIRCUS-RIDER MAGICIAN.

The large council-lodge was filled with Comanche chiefs.

Red Buffalo being at the head of the tribe, and the mostrenowned Indian present, was given the post of honor.

The White Wizard was ushered into the lodge, dressed asa circus-rider, and given a seat near the head chief and medicineman. Soon after the three captives were brought in,with their hands still bound behind them. Their eyes restedwith wonder upon Barry, for they did not know what tomake of him.

A sly wink which he managed to give them unperceivedby the reds, told them that, whoever he was, Barry was afriend to them.

One of the chiefs, an old man, opened the council, andwith a short, fiery speech, set the blood rushing through theveins of the Comanches like fire.

A tall, wiry fellow jumped up when the old chief had finished,and spoke for some time upon the cruelty of the whitesand their evident desire to exterminate the Indians.

Several more followed, and then Red Buffalo arose fromhis seat, letting his blanket fall from his shoulders to theground as he did so. This chief was well known upon theborder, as had also been his father, Spotted Wolf, and theprisoner and chiefs leaned forward and listened to his words.

The speech of Red Buffalo was short, but being to thepoint, its pithiness made up for its briefness.

“Chiefs and warriors of the Comanches: the great Manitouhas placed three pale-faces in our hands. Shall we torturethem or let them go?

“It is the will of the Great Spirit that the prisoners shouldbe tortured by being burned at the stake. A singing-birdwhispers it in the ear of Red Buffalo. The prairie-windbrings the word ‘torture’ with it. Shall the pale-faces go freewhen eight warriors fell beneath their arms? No; the Manitou28wills that they should die, and the Great Medicine-manshall decide upon their fate. Three moons ago Red Buffalohad a father and brother. Where now is the chief SpottedWolf and the Snake-head? Both have gone to the happyhunting-grounds, sent on their long journey by the bullets ofthe pale-face trappers. Let the medicine-man speak.”

The Red Wizard looked around the council-lodge with histerrible eyes until they fell upon the prisoners.

Here they rested, and a horrible grin came upon his face,as he slowly arose to his feet and spoke:

“My brothers have spoken well. The death of the pale-faceshas been sealed. Muchanaigo had a dream last night.The Manitou spoke to him and said the pale-faces must dieunless there came a man who could outride the Comanches.If such came, then all but the young man were to go free.But where is the man?

“Where, chiefs and warriors, is the man that is to outridethe ‘children of the plains?’ Let him be found.”

The medicine-man liked to speak about his dreams, for thesuperstitious Indians believed them, and what is more, thoughthim all the greater on account of them. The cunning Wizardalways liked to put in that he had spoken to the Manitou, andthis made the Comanches respect him more.

He had taken a dislike to Chauncy, probably because oneof the men slain by the young man was a grand-son of his,and he left him out purposely when he mentioned that shoulda man come who could outride the “prairie kings,” the prisonerswould be saved. He had not the least idea in theworld that the man spoken of would appear, or that when hedid come, he could even equal the Comanches at riding. Hewas somewhat surprised, therefore, when Barry got up andsaid he was the man. The circus-rider made a very finespeech, telling about a dream he had had, and how the Manitouhad chosen him to ride with the Comanches.

The medicine-man was greatly astonished at this.

He had no idea in the world that the man he spoke ofwould appear, and yet he pretended that he knew he wascoming.

The medicine-man of a tribe of Indians is generally somesharp fellow, who knows a few tricks which, though plain29enough to a white man, he easily manages to gull the red-mencompletely with.

The Red Wizard, on this occasion, was greatly surprisedwhen Barry got up and spoke, offering to ride against the bestComanche in the village, and a smile came to his lips.

He was glad, now, that the white man had offered toride.

Now he should have one triumph over his rival, for the latterwould be sure to get beat.

There was no chance for him at all. The Comanches liveon the backs of their horses; but it did not occur to the mindof the red-man that Barry Le Clare had been reared on ahorse—had been a celebrated rider at the early age of fifteen.

The red-skin felt sure of a victory over his fellow-wizard.

He would show the Comanches that the latter was not unconquerable.So when Barry seated himself again, the RedWizard arose, and said that the Manitou had spoken the truth,the man had made his appearance, and now the nextthing for the Comanches to do, was to watch the trial ofskill.

This was accepted with yells of applause by the Comanches.

They knew that they were reckoned the best riders of theplains, and that they had no equals among the red-men.

What then had they to fear from a white man who hadlived in the cities and towns all his life?

The council was broken up, and the whole village hurriedover to the plain just beyond the village.

The three prisoners guarded by several warriors werebrought along to witness the performance. The man selectedby the Comanches to compete with the White Wizard was amedium-sized, athletic fellow, with long arms and supplejoints.

He had a very fast and strong mustang, and it was a prettylarge one, too. He was stripped, except a piece of clotharound his loins, and as he sprung upon his steed a shoutarose from his admiring comrades. They had seen him ridebefore, and as he was the champion of the village, they expectedto see the pale-face beaten all to nothing. The horse30was an iron-gray, and was quite celebrated on the plains onaccount of its speed.

The man that owned and rode it knew it well, and wouldhave bet his bottom dollar (if he ever had one) that he wouldcome out of a trial of skill or a race with the pale-face firstbest.

The three prisoners watched the white man, and they felttheir courage rise when they saw the smile on his firm countenance.

The man knew his own powers.

Had he looked scared, the whites would have given up allhope, for they knew that if the Indian frightened him therewould be no chance for him to win.

But the confident and “devil-may-care” look upon his facereassured them, and they had confidence in him.

The white looked to the girdle which was around his horse,and as the Indian had no bridle on his horse, Barry took hisoff.

The Indian was to show lead, now.

He was mounted on his horse, and at a signal from the headchief he dashed out upon the plain.

The mane of his horse was long, and had been plaited.

One of these plaits served to rest his arm in, and he performedall sorts of tricks, sliding around his horse and comingup on the other side, and picking up things from theground.

At length he put on the bridle and went through the lastthing on his programme. This consisted of standing up onthe horse bare-back, holding on with the bridle and jumpingup and down. The Comanche did all of these things with agreat deal of skill, and when he rode into the crowd he wasgreeted by a chorus of savage yells. The Indians were delighted.

Of course the pale-face could do nothing like this.

Imagine their surprise and chagrin when they saw him dashout and go through the same thing as easily as the Indian haddone, and with extremely aggravating nonchalance.

It was now his turn to lead.

The medicine-man was not beaten yet.

If his man could equal the White Wizard when the latter31led, the prisoners would not be free after all. And even ifthe white man did beat his red rival, the Red Wizard did notintend to give them up. He was sharp enough for that. Hewould have another dream.

CHAPTER VII.
A TRIAL OF SPEED FOR SCALPS.

Barry got a score of Indians, and soon a complete circus-ringwas made, all but the sawdust.

The lassoes were stretched around the ring, and then Barrywalked his horse into the ring.

The bridle was still on him, and leaping upon his back thecircus-rider sat down and rode around the ring several times.

The horse seemed delighted. For years he had been accustomedto performing in the ring, and now that he foundhimself in his old place again he was glad.

With a springy step he cantered around the ring, and theIndians could not help admiring the shape of both man andbeast, and the beautiful appearance of the latter.

With a piece of chalk Barry whitened the bottoms of hispumps, and then leaped to his feet. A chirrup from his lipssent the white steed off at a rapid pace, and holding on tothe bridle, Barry jumped up and down after the manner of acountryman who is supposed to be going to market.

The spirits of the Indians arose. Their man could dothat.

The Indian came into the ring and Barry went out. Thered-skin went through the same thing, and was greeted withshouts of approval by his dusky comrades.

The latter now began to think that the pale-face was nowizard at all, but just a good rider, so when Barry again enteredthe ring, seated on his horse, they greeted him withgroans.

The rider smiled, however. He knew that in a few minutesthe tune of the Indians would be wonderfully changed.

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Again he rode around the ring, standing erect on his feet,and the Comanches began to think that this was all he coulddo, and they felt happy, accordingly.

They saw the rider lean over his horse and whisper a wordin its ear. Then he rose up again and the white steed wentaround the ring like a flash. Suddenly the bridle droppedfrom the hand of the rider, and he stood up alone without anysupport.

Ah, here was something worth looking at.

The Comanches love to watch good riding, and woulddoubtless patronize a circus should one visit them.

Even though they knew that the rider was liberating thetwo prisoners, yet their admiration was unbounded.

Their eyes opened with surprise, and they were speechlesswhen the rider went around the ring like lightning, with nothingto support him. He stood with his arms folded acrosshis breast, and a smile of triumph upon his face.

But this was nothing. The best was yet to come.

At a word from his rider the white horse slackened hisspeed, and came to a regular gallop, such as the circus horsesalone know how to bring out.

Then if the reader could have seen the eyes of theComanches as they watched the rider, they would not havewondered that they took him to be a wizard.

Barry stood with his back to the horse’s head, and suddenlysprung up into the air, turning over and making a completesomersault. He touched the back of the horse, andagain he went up. The Indians saw at once that their mancould never do this, and yet the Comanche was pluck.

As Barry Le Clare rode out of the ring, he rode in andmade the attempt. He succeeded very well in the first part,although he had to swing his arms pretty wildly to balancehimself, but when he came to the jumping, he made a completefailure.

Instead of coming down upon the back of his horse, whichacted well for the first time in the ring, he came plump uponthe ground, and rolled over and over.

A shout of laughter arose from the dusky throng, and thediscomfited Comanche arose to his feet in a savage manner.

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Striding up to Barry he asked him if he wanted torace.

The latter replied that he didn’t care if he did.

“Me make bet wid pale-face. Gray horse beat, me win,white ’un beat, pale-face win,” said the Comanche.

“Show your money, old man. How much on it?” exclaimedBarry.

“Have no money, all gone.”

“Then how’re you going to bet?”

“Me bet scalp for scalp. Ef pale-face win, he take thescalp of the Red Bear. Ef Indian win, he scalp pale-face,”was the rejoinder, and by the look that Red Bear gave hisrival, all knew that he would have no hesitation in scalpingthe victorious rider, should his horse win the race.

For a moment the rider looked at his horse, and then atthe fleet mustang of his foe. The proposition so unexpected,staggered him a little at first, but he quickly replied:

“All right, Red Bear. Onto your horse. Do your best ifyou would not be beaten, though heaven knows I wouldn’tscalp you. But no Indian can ever cow Barry Le Clare.”

Delighted at this chance to redeem his reputation, the Indianleaped upon the back of his horse, and then the preliminarieswere arranged. A dozen men on horseback rodeout to a spot about a mile from the village, and here a stakewas put into the ground.

The dozen men stayed here to see that the race was conductedon a fair principle. The two racers were to start froma stake which had been driven into the ground near the village,and were to round the stake where the dozen warriorswere waiting, and then come back to the first stake.

At a signal, the two started off, and for the first quarter ofa mile both kept together. Then the Indian began to drawslowly but surely ahead. The Comanches felt some satisfactionwhen they saw that this was a fact, but they were notconfident yet.

They knew a great deal about horses, and they saw thatthe white steed was as fast a runner as the gray one, if hisrider chose to put him down to it.

They began to think, however, as the Indian still kept34drawing ahead, that the white steed was not as good as theyhad taken it to be, and their spirits rose.

When the Indian rounded the half-way pole, and came ontothe back stretch five lengths ahead of his rival, a yell brokefrom them.

They thought that perhaps after all the Indian might win,and that from the look of things it seemed very much asthough the gray would win the race.

The Indian himself felt sure of it. He was certain thatthe white steed was doing its best, and that he could at leastwin by five lengths. And then he would have the pleasureof scalping the White Wizard.

He felt so sure of this that he yelled with joy.

Half the last half was done, and still he was five lengthsahead.

Suddenly a low whistle came from the lips of the pale-face.

It is a signal, and obeying it, the white steed quickly increasedhis speed. Like an arrow shot from the bow, thehorse darted forward, gaining rapidly on the other.

The Indian began kicking and pounding his horse, yellinglike a demon all the while, but it was no use.

The animal was running at its greatest speed, and nothingcould increase it. The pale-face passed him before the lastquarter was reached, and came up to the home-stake sixlengths ahead.

A shout from the prisoners welcomed the victor.

The Indian came in looking terribly sullen, for he wouldnot have cared could he only take the scalp of his enemy.

He would have been content to lose his own then.

Handing over his horse to a friend, he stepped up toBarry and stood before him with open breast.

“Strike,” said he; “Red Bear has lost. His scalp isyours.”

“Never!” exclaimed Barry, moving back. “Red Bear’sscalp belongs to himself. Let him live and learn wisdom.”

“The pale-face is afraid to strike. See, Red Bear is notafraid to die. He spits at the White Wizard with his lastbreath.”

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As the Indian spoke he drew his knife and stabbed himselfto the heart.

Then with a loud yell he sunk back upon the ground,dead.

He had done well, for he could never have lived with theComanches had he failed to make good his wager.

The relatives of the dead man took the body away to beburied after the fashion of the Comanches.

CHAPTER VIII.
THE MANITOU MUST BE OBEYED.

The circus-rider was not yet done. He wished to showwhat his horse could do in the way of tricks, and for half anhour he kept up the performance. The white steed was acelebrated trick horse, and could waltz in a manner trulysurprising.

All who have been to the circus know the many tricksperformed by a horse. All of these Barry showed off beforethe Comanches, and the Indians enjoyed it all verymuch.

At length he thought it was time to stop, and going overto where the prisoners were still standing, he cut the bondsof the two whom he had saved by his beating the Comancheselected to ride with him. The medicine-man did not likethis, and he stepped forward to put a stop to it.

Before he could open his mouth, a voice, coming as all theIndians thought from above them, cried out the words:

“Let Muchanaigo beware. He has dark thoughts in hisbrain. Let him not attempt to carry them out. His handwill be useless if he attempts to lift it above the head of oneof the prisoners. He gave his word, let him break it if hedares. It is the Great Manitou that speaks. He must beobeyed.”

Instantly the Indian stopped still in his tracks.

There was no disobeying this order.

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He said not a word, but turning, he sought his lodge, anddid not make his appearance during the rest of the day.

He had found his match in the pale-face.

But for the superstition of the Indians, Barry could neverhave played this trick upon them.

The Indians lost no time in giving back to the prisonersevery thing that had been taken from them.

The little Frenchman danced for joy when he once moregot his hands upon his case and umbrella.

He examined the former carefully to see that none of thevials were missing, but found to his great joy that it had onlysustained a little injury while in the hands of the Indians.

All the time Monsieur Tierney kept up a rattling volley ofwords which were a mingled crowd of thanks for the aid ofBarry, denunciations on the heads of the Indians, and exclamationsof delight when he found some valuable specimenuninjured.

Indeed, the Indians had only got at the vials, and the fellowthat had got at these would never do so again.

The Indians grinned to see the curious little fellow marchingup and down with the umbrella fastened to his back andhis case in his hand. He had a revolver in his belt, aboutfive inches long, which might make a man sick if dischargeddown his throat.

The trapper had his revolvers, rifle, knife and every thingthat belonged to him. One of the Comanches tried to keephis tobacco-pouch, but Ralph missed it, and Red Buffalo, fearingto bring down the vengeance of the Manitou upon thevillage, made the warrior give it up, much to his disgust, andto the great delight of the trapper, who immediately went tobusiness and took a “chaw.” Then the two mounted theirhorses and rode off, carrying with them all of their possessions.

The trapper had a piece of paper in his hand which hadbeen slyly given him by Barry before they left the village.

The trapper did not intend to go far. He would not leavethe son of his old friend to his fate.

He intended hiding somewhere until dark, and then seeingwhat could be done for Chauncy. Suddenly he rememberedthe paper he held in his hand. He tried to read the37few lines that were written on it, but being no scholar andknowing only the capitals, he found it impossible.

What should he do?

Maybe the naturalist could read it; at any rate it woulddo no harm to ask him. No sooner thought of than actedupon. To the great delight of the guide the Frenchman declaredthat he could read it, and took it from the former’shand.

It read as follows, being written in lead pencil:

“Ride to the bank of the river, about six miles from here,and hide until dark. Then I will join you with the young fellow.I will give the hoot of an owl and you answer with thecry of the loon.

Barry Le Clare.”

The Frenchman read this to the trapper, and then the lattercould not help expressing his joy.

“Snakes an’ catamounts,” ejacul*ted he, “thet’s good azfar az it goes. That feller’s sharp an’ he’ll get Cha’ncy awayif anybody could. Didn’t his hoss knock spots out o’ thegray ’un?”

“Oui, monsieur, he be very fine man. He make good hunter.He von magnificent rider, von elegant jumper, vonsplendid racer, von superb ventriloquist, von excellent—” exclaimedthe naturalist.

“That’ll do, mounsheer. We’ll make tracks for the rivernow. It’s past noon, and I want ter git ter the river so thatwe can hev some dinner. What d’ye say ter that?” said thetrapper, breaking in upon the Frenchmen, who, after the mannerof his nation, was getting excited and was about to launchforth into a vivid and startling string of praise.

“Begar, I do feel hungry, monsieur. I could eat vondozen frog-legs now, vid relish. Oh, dey are superb,” criedthe naturalist.

“Bah, ye think o’ nothin’ but frogs. I wish I had a dozenter give ye. For my part I want a good hunk o’ buffler orvenison.”

“Le ’Mericans have no taste. Dey know not vat is good.Mon Dieu! in la belle France de frog is de best esteemedmeat. Here de boys throw stones at them, an’, sacré, killthem just for fun. Diable! vat I come out here for?” exclaimedthe little man.

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“Ter find somethin’ az would make yer fortune. Soye’ve told me many a time,” said the guide.

“Just so. You are right, monsieur. Ven I find dat, denI be happy. Every von vill talk about Monsieur Tierney, degreat naturalist. Oh, den I vill have my reward for all distrouble and expense. But vat have we got to eat?”

“Nothin’ az I knows on. The pesky reds didn’t offer togive us a bite, but then we’ve got our firearms an’ an ol’hunter like me, what’s got his shootin’-iron, desarves to starveif he can’t knock over somethin’ on the plains. If we waron the desert now it would be a different matter. We’ll gitsomethin’ when we reach the river.”

The two owned very good horses. The guide owned hiswhile the Frenchman’s had been borrowed from a friend inAustin.

The Comanches had come upon them the night before, andhad captured them, though not without a vigorous resistanceon the part of both of them. The hunter had killed threeof the reds before he was captured, and the Frenchman managedto give his enemies several sound cracks with his hugestrong umbrella before he was pulled down. He entirely forgotthe revolver that he had thrust in his belt to make himselflook fierce.

The little man was a curious body, but he had pluck, as thereader will see before this story comes to a close.

The river was at length reached and the two camped.

While the naturalist was building a fire out of some lightdry wood, the guide went off to see if he could shoot something.

The river was pretty wide at this point, but it was shallow,and both sides were covered with trees and bushes.

The guide was not long in sighting a deer, and soon thecrack of his revolver sounded its death-knell.

The two men were soon busy cooking venison-steaks overthe fire. They ate their dinner and then cooked the remainderof the deer over the fire. The guide knew that ifChauncy was rescued the whites would have to make trackspretty lively, for the Indians would be terribly mad. Theyintended to torture the young man in every conceivable mannerfor he had got the young Donna away from them. They39did not know about the panther, and thought that had it notbeen for the young man the Donna would never have gotaway the second time.

Darkness at length came upon the scene. At length themoon arose and lighted up the earth with her beautiful light.

Several hours passed away and then the tramping of horsescame from the plain. Then the loud, mournful hoot of theowl echoed through the trees.

“It is them,” cried the guide, and immediately the cry ofthe loon startled the Frenchman. It was the guide returningthe signal.

CHAPTER IX.
THE WHITE WIZARD DRUGS THE GUARD.

Chauncy was thrust back into the prison-lodge and twoguards posted around it. The Comanches did not mean tolet him escape if they could possibly help it.

There was altogether about ten men killed, and the Indiansintended to let the whole of their vengeance fall uponChauncy.

The young hunter walked up and down in his lodge, thinkingof the Donna Iola. Sleeping or waking the Donna wasuppermost in his thoughts. What a pity it was that aftercoming together in such a curious way they should be separated.

Where could she be now?

Chauncy knew from the expressive look the lovely Donnahad given him, as in obedience to his command she rodeaway and left him, that he was the first object of her affection.

He could not help feeling highly elated as he thought ofthis, and he quite forgot for a time that he was a prisoner.

When he did remember this he also remembered the factthat while the three prisoners were watching the riding of BarryLe Clare, the guide had whispered in his ear that if he and40the Frenchman did get off they would do their best to rescuethe young man.

He had often heard his father tell tales about the guide,and he knew that when Ralph said he would do a thinghe would go through fire and water in order to accomplish*t.

The afternoon passed slowly away and at length theshades of night began to cover the face of the earth.

The moon being on the decline would not rise until verylate, and there would be several hours of darkness before theearth would be lighted up with her bright rays.

Whatever was to be done must be done during this periodof darkness. Barry had retired soon after sunset.

An hour passed and then another and another.

The village was quiet, no unusual noise breaking the silenceof the night, but the occasional barking of some dogor the neighing of a horse. The Comanches were fast asleepand the two guards who walked around the prison-lodgewere beginning to feel drowsy themselves.

They would have to keep watch until midnight, or aboutan hour after moonrise, and then they would be relieved.

They were both walking together and talking, when oneof them caught sight of a form approaching them; it did notcome in a sneaking way but walked boldly toward them.

They soon distinguished the form of the White Wizard.

What could he want at this time of night?

The pale-face was soon up to them, and greatly to theirsurprise he stopped beside them and spoke.

“My red brothers seem to be on guard,” said he.

“The Wizard speaks with a straight tongue,” replied oneof the Indians.

“What is in the lodge they guard?”

“The pale-face captive. Red Buffalo thinks that he willescape, so he put Red Pine and Snapping Fox on guard.”

“The pale-face can not escape when Red Pine and theSnapping Fox are on guard. He is as safe as if he wastied to the stake and the fa*gots piled up around him,” saidBarry.

This flattery greatly pleased the Indians.

“The Wizard is a great man. He knows every thing.41He is a great rider, and would make a big Comanche brave,”said one.

“Is not the warrior thirsty? Would he like a little fire-waterto make him glad?” asked the cunning circus-rider.

The eyes of the two Comanches snapped at the verythought.

“Pale-face great man, he gib Injun drink.”

“Yes; here, take a good sup apiece. There’s plentymore where that came from,” said Barry, taking out his bottle.

It was a medium-sized black one, and was two-thirds fullof brandy.

The circus-rider just after dark had gone out to the clumpof trees in which he had hidden his clothes, and had gotthe bottle of brandy from them. It was not pure brandy,however.

He had taken a little vial from his coat-pocket and poureda little of the contents into the black bottle.

It was a subtile drug which would produce a feeling whichfor drowsiness could not be equaled.

Barry intended to get the upper hand of the Comancheguards, and he knew that to do so he would have to drugthe fire-water.

The nearest Indian grasped the bottle. He threw backhis head with the neck of the bottle in his mouth. Thebottle was upturned, the Indian’s eyes sought the heavensand a gurgling sound told both of the others that the brandywas finding its level.

The other Comanche, Snapping Fox, seemed to think thatif Red Pine waited until his eyes found the star they seemedto be in search of, the brandy would be all gone.

Accordingly he seized hold of the bottle and was soon indeep contemplation of the blue dome of heaven (apparently).

Any one, to see these two Indians examining the sky sosteadily, would have felt sure that they were greatly interestedin astronomy, and yet the two did not notice the starswhile looking upward.

Their thoughts were all upon the liquor, and when the bottlewas handed back to the owner, it was empty.

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Barry was sharp, and he immediately said:

“I just brought this for a sample. If Red Pine andSnapping Fox do what I want them to-morrow, they shallhave a dozen bottles of this fine fire-water.” He said thisfor a certain reason.

The Indians might rightly suspicion his motive for bringingthem fire-water when they began to feel the effect of it,if he went right away. Now by his words he made thembelieve that he wanted a job done on the morrow, and thatif they did it, he would give them a dozen bottles like thesample he had brought to tempt them.

“We do what Wizard say,” said Red Pine.

A moment after Barry moved away. He did not go far,however, for he wanted to go to work as soon as the drugput the two Indians asleep. He remained within ear-shot,and listened.

The Indians kept talking rapidly about five minutes, andthen their voices became thick and the words few and farbetween.

Soon Barry knew that both were fast asleep, and he walkedcautiously forward. The two guards were lying closetogether near the door of the lodge, tightly locked in thearms of Morpheus.

It was not likely that they would awaken very soon.

Barry stepped over them, and unbarring the door, softlyhe opened it.

All was dark within and he could distinguish nothing.

“Young fellow, where are you?” he said, in a loud whisper.

It was well he spoke, for Chauncy had managed to unloosehis bonds, and having found a sort of club in a cornerof the lodge, he had raised it and was ready to strike whenBarry spoke.

“Who are you?” he asked, for he could barely see theother.

“Barry Le Clare. I saved the others, and have come afteryou. Hurry out here,” said the circus-rider.

Chauncy came out, and the door was shut and barredagain.

“Come, let us hurry away from here,” said he.

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“Hold on, you want weapons. I noticed that Red Pinehad a fine rifle, and a revolver. Get them from him,” saidBarry.

Chauncy picked up the rifle, and found to his delight thatit was his own, as were also all the other things the Indiancarried.

He quickly transferred them to his own person, and thenannounced himself ready. Barry led him to the medicine-lodgein which he had taken up his quarters, and where hishorse now was, and then left him. He soon came back, leadingone of the best horses that was in the corral. He was anexcellent judge of horse-flesh, and he knew what kind of asteed to pick out.

There were several saddles and bridles in the medicine-lodge,which had doubtless been taken from hunters and emigrants.

Taking his pick of these, Chauncy put them on his steed,and then the two went through the village, making as littlenoise as possible and leading their horses behind them.

When they got to the clump of trees, the circus-riderchanged his clothes, and with his weapons in his belt andhand, and the bundle on his horse, he led the way toward theriver.

He knew from the direction the two whites had takenwhen they left the village where they would strike the river,and he headed for that point. The moon soon came out,and when the two came up to the tree on the bank of theriver, the circus-rider gave a loud, solemn hoot.

It was answered by the cry of the loon, and soon twohorsem*n came toward them.

44

CHAPTER X.
A WILD RACE FOR LIFE.

The trapper was right in thinking that the Comancheswould pursue the four whites when they found out theirescape.

Early in the morning, the chief, Red Buffalo, emerged fromhis lodge and went toward that one which had been used asa prison-lodge for the young hunter.

He was greatly surprised to find both of the guards lyingupon the ground. At first the chief thought that they weredead; had been killed by some enemy, in order that theprisoner might be rescued. He quickly discovered his mistake,however, and wondered what could be the matter withthe two men, for he had great trouble in arousing them fromtheir stupor.

Red Pine told the chief how the White Wizard had visitedthem and had given them a drink of fire-water. Thechief knew that there was something wrong when he heardthis, and he quickly undid the bars that fastened the door.

No sooner had he disappeared from the sight of the twowarriors than a loud yell announced to them that the lodgewas empty. The chief rushed out, gave a few orders to thetwo warriors, and then began hunting around for the trail.

He found this, and had followed it outside the village, whenhe was joined by twenty-five men, among whom were thetwo guards whom Barry Le Clare had drugged the nightbefore.

They were all mounted and armed, and Red Pine led ahorse for the chief. The latter had left orders that a seconddetachment should follow them after several hours.

As the chief sprung upon his horse, Red Pine communicatedto him the suspicious fact that the White Wizard was not inhis tent, nor had he been seen that morning by any person.All now knew who it was that had liberated the prisoner,45and there would be no escape for the white circus-rider, shouldthe Comanches once get a crack at him.

The chief called out a name, and the warrior who wasthus designated, stepped out with a smile of conscious triumph.

He was the best trailer in the Comanche village, and hadbeen aptly named the Starved Wolf, for that beast will keepon the trail of its prey for days. It is not by its speed thata wolf tires out its prey, but by its pertinacity in keeping tothe trail.

Starved Wolf rode up to where the chief was, and throwinghimself from his horse he bent down and examined the trail.

The keen-eyed Indian saw marks that he could distinguishanywhere, and with a yell he sprung upon his horse again.

He had noted the general direction in which the trail ran,and it would be easier for him to follow it now.

Barry and the young hunter had not been skilled enoughin woodcraft to make a detour, as any old trapper wouldhave done.

Bending over his horse’s neck, the Starved Wolf gave theanimal a kick that sent him forward, and then the trailingbegan.

To the Comanche trailer the marks upon the ground wereplain enough, while to an amateur they would have beennearly invisible.

The Indians went forward at a rapid pace, and they werenot long in reaching the trees which grew on the bank ofthe river.

The whites had crossed here and the Indians lost nearlyhalf an hour in finding it again on the other shore.

The four whites had gone up-stream and emerged fromthe water in a rocky place. Had all of them been old hunters,such care would have been taken to keep from leavinga trail that the Comanches, sharp though they were, wouldnever have found it; but only one was a hunter, and theothers, despite their caution, could not help leaving somemarks, which the Indians at length came upon. Red Buffalobegan to despair of ever catching up to the pale-faces, forthey had at least six hours the start of him and his warriors.He did not know that something had happened which, thoughunlucky to the four men, was favorable to him.

46

Barry and the young hunter were soon joined, after the formerhad given the signal and it had been answered, by twofigures on horseback, which they were not long in makingout as the old hunter and the little French naturalist, MonsieurTierney.

The hunter shook the young man’s hand and also that ofthe circus-rider. The latter then told how it was he had gotthe prisoner away, and both of the others laughed heartily.

The guide said he would like to see Red Buffalo when thechief found out the escape of the prisoner.

The guide cherished a deep hatred for the chief of theComanches, and should the two ever come face to face in afight, one or the other was bound to go under if nothing occurredto separate them. Twice before this had the guidebeen a captive in the hands of Red Buffalo, and both timeshad he escaped. Once he had run the gantlet, and prettywell bruised and cut, was about to be burned at the stake,when old Captain Wilton and his company of regulars rescuedhim. Ralph was an army scout at that time.

The second time he had escaped by his own exertions.

The four whites rode for nearly two hours and then theywere suddenly stopped by the old guide.

He saw a suspicious object coming toward them from thenorth-east. The guide made all of them dismount, and thentold them that the objects they had taken to be buffaloeswere Indians.

The latter were about forty in number, and to the astonishmentand chagrin of the four whites, they camped closeby them and began to cook an early breakfast.

The whites muffled the heads of their horses in theirblankets so that the animals might not betray them by awhinny or a neigh. The whites and their steeds crouchedin the grass for several hours. It was just at daybreak thatthe Apaches, for such the guide declared the Indians to be,departed, much to the relief of the whites.

No sooner were they well out of sight than the four resumedtheir journey. The sun soon arose and lit up theearth with his bright, warm and cheerful rays.

The Frenchman could not resist stopping now and then topick some curious flower which he saw in the green oases.

47

The sun was several hours high when they reached a groveof trees and entered in among them. A cool spring bubbledup in a shady spot, and the horses and their riders took longdraughts of the excellent water. The horses were suffered tomove around for awhile so that they might have some breakfastand also get rested.

The four were talking earnestly, when the guide suddenlyput up his hand and motioned to the others to remainquiet.

Instantly all was silent, and with open ears the four listenedfor a repetition of the sound that had alarmed theguide.

Soon all heard it. It sounded like the trampling of adrove of buffaloes or wild horses, and came from the samedirection that the four men had come from.

Three of the whites thought that the noise was made bybuffaloes or wild horses, but the old guide knew better.

He thought it was made by Comanches, who were followingup their trail, and springing to his feet he rushed to theedge of the trees. A single glance served to show him thathis suspicion was not false. Over a score of Comanches werecoming straight toward the grove.

At their head rode two men whom the guide knew.

One was the chief, Red Buffalo, the other, a famous trailer.The Starved Wolf was leaning over, and Ralph knew that hiseyes were fixed upon the trail.

Ralph saw that there was going to be a fight, and he resolvedto be the aggressive party. A word to his comradessufficed to tell them of his desires, and a few seconds afterthree rifles cracked and three bullets winged with death spedthrough the air.

The guide had not aimed at Red Buffalo, for he wanted tokill that worthy in a square stand-up fight.

Three of the Comanche warriors fell over, and the restwere somewhat surprised for a moment.

Recovering quickly, they gave a loud war-cry and cameforward with a rush. They entered among the trees, but noenemy was in sight. On they went, and at length emergedon the open plain on the other side of the grove.

A howl of joy broke from the lips of Red Buffalo, for there,48not far in front of them, and flying before them, were thefour whites.

It was now a race for life. Which will be the winner?

CHAPTER XI.
MUZZLE TO MUZZLE, AND WHO WILL WIN?

It was now a very exciting, and yet, on the plains, a commonscene, that the sun looked down upon.

First came the four whites, the circus-rider going along aseasy and as graceful as if he was trotting around in the ringfor the amusem*nt of the spectators. The three others wereurging their steeds on with heel and voice, but the wiry littleanimals were doing their utmost, and could not go any fasterthan they were going.

The little Frenchman looked very curious, as he bouncedup and down on his horse, his umbrella held over the pommeljust as the others held their rifles. Not being accustomedto horses, this wild ride came pretty hard on him, and he keptmuttering to himself that if he was so happy as to see LaBelle France once more, he would never leave her friendlyshores.

After the whites came the score of Comanches, racing alongin wild confusion, and now and then breaking into a loud yellwhich was given partly to urge their horses onward, and partlyto weaken the nerves of the fugitives.

In this latter, however, they were mistaken. Even the littleforeigner showed commendable pluck, and several timeshe put his hand upon his little revolver, as if to try a shot atthe Comanches, but was restrained by Ralph, who told himto save his powder.

The circus-rider could easily have distanced both his comradesand the Comanches, had he been so cowardly as to havewished to do so. This was far from being the state of BarryLe Clare’s feelings.

49

He was no coward, as his entering the hostile village tosave persons who were entire strangers to him proved.

The three mustangs were keeping their distance very well,but the guide knew that soon they would begin to fall off, andhe resolved to diminish the number of the Comanches asmuch as possible before the latter began to gain upon thefour whites.

Turning in his saddle, he lifted his rifle to his shoulder.

Monsieur Tierney had seen Ralph discharge his gun whilein among the trees, and as he had not seen him load it whilehe rode, he felt sure that the guide was only trying to scarethe Indians.

He could not help smiling at the simple ruse, as he deemedthe movement of the hunter; but the smile on his facequickly changed to a look of astonishment which was trulyridiculous.

What surprised him was the fact that when the guidepulled the trigger of his rifle, there came a sharp, whip-likecrack, that sounded high and clear above the yells of theComanches and the noise made by the hoofs of the horses.

And what was still more wonderful, one of the pursuingbraves seemed to have run against a bullet, for with a shrillshriek of mortal anguish, he threw his arms wildly into theair and fell from his horse to the ground, to rise nomore.

Ralph’s bullet had done its work, and done it well, too.

The Comanche would never scalp another enemy; he wouldnever drive his tomahawk into the head of a helpless womanor child again. His fighting days were over.

The little Frenchman wondered greatly how the old huntercould shoot with such deadly effect from the back of a horsethat was going at its utmost speed. Afterward, MonsieurTierney tried the thing himself, but found it a hard job to turnand discharge a gun while going at full speed, and as to takingany aim at all, why the thing was simply impossible withhim.

It is really a very difficult and yet useful thing to learn,this shooting so accurately from the back of a horse.

The Indians only yelled a little harder, and urged their50horses on a little faster, if that were possible, on having theirnumber diminished by the rifle of the guide.

A good many of them carried guns; in fact, when RedBuffalo picked out this band, he singled out men who, for themost part, owned guns.

Some of these now began to fire, but being poor marksmen,their bullets whistled through the air many feet away fromthe heads of those they shot at.

A mile had been passed over since Ralph had fired hisgun.

Again he turned in his saddle, with his rifle to his shoulder,and again the deadly crack sounded.

The Indians had seen him loading, and were expectingthis.

Therefore, when the guide turned around, every one ofthem disappeared behind the body of his steed.

The crack of the hunter’s rifle sounded after they had disappeared.

Had he fired too late to hit one of the Indians?

His bullet did not touch a red-skin, and yet it did whatRalph had intended it should. The three other whites turnedin their saddles as Ralph fired, and when they saw that noneof the Comanches were in view they felt sure that his bulletmust have been wasted.

But it was not.

Ralph, when he turned to fire, had intended to shoot oneof the Comanches, but when he saw them disappear from hissight, he quickly changed his aim, and pointed his rifle at oneof the horses.

His finger pressed the trigger, and following the crack camea shrill neigh of agony, and one of the horses dropped suddenlyto the earth.

His rider, not expecting this, was not ready to leap off, andhe came down with a terrible crack upon the ground.

He did not rise to his feet, for the simple reason that thefall had disjointed his neck, and he was a doomed man.

And now the Indians began gaining upon the four whites.

Foot after foot and yard after yard they came up, and atlength Ralph saw that a stand must be made.

He had loaded the rifles of both his comrades who carried51them, and in a few disjointed sentences he told them of hisplan.

It was an old one, but was the only thing our friends coulddo, as there was not a tree in sight.

Waiting until they got to a place where, on account of thebuffaloes, the prairie-grass for several acres around was veryshort, the four men suddenly jerked up their horses.

The guide quickly threw himself from the back of his horseon the side opposite to the Indians, and with his rifle in hishands, looked over the back of his animal at the foe.

The three others followed his example, and the Comanchesdivided and went on both sides of them. Not an Indian wasin sight, they having disappeared behind their horses.

At a word from Ralph the four horses were put into aform like a square, and then the whites waited for the attack.

The Indians were not ready to fire when they rode pastour friends. Had their rifles been loaded, they would mostassuredly have given them a volley, aiming from beneath thenecks of their horses. As it was, they rode off a good distance,and then coming together in a group, they sat uprighton their horses.

They commenced talking and gesticulating wildly, andRalph, as he looked at them, gave a chuckle of delight.

“I believe my ole Betsy Jane kin throw a chunk of leadover to them fellers. Anyhow, I’m goin’ ter try it. Jestwatch, now,” said he.

His rifle was resting on the back of his mustang, and ashe spoke, he took a careful aim along the gleaming barrel.

A puff of white smoke, a sharp crack, and the bullet wentlike lightning through the air. Ralph had calculated uponthe distance and had aimed rather high. His calculation wascorrect, for one of the Comanches received the fatal bullet inhis breast, and so unexpected was it, that he rolled from hishorse without the usual death yell.

A few seconds after and a loud yell from the Indians toldthat at length they had decided upon a plan of action.

They tried the old plan of circling around the four whiteswith their bodies hidden behind their horses, and graduallyedging up closer and closer.

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When near enough they began to discharge their guns, andthen the guide thought it was time to retaliate.

Barry shot a horse with his rifle, and Ralph picked off therider before he could hide in the short grass.

The young hunter shot another horse with a ball from hisrevolver, and his rifle sounded the death-note of the beast’sowner and rider.

This was more than the Indians could stand.

This plan of having their men killed and none of theirenemies injured, was too fine a thing in favor of the whites.

Luck, so far, seemed on the side of the whites, and thething was getting monotonous to the Comanches.

Something must be done, and that at once.

CHAPTER XII.
CHASED BY THE FLAMES.

A loud, clear, singular yell sounded over the plain.

It was given by Red Buffalo himself, and the hunter knewjust what it meant. The Indians were about to attack themin force.

“Down wid yer guns, boys, and let the pistols speak.They’re a-comin’ now, an’ we’ll give ’em the very ole dickens,”said the old trapper.

On came the Comanches from every direction, to the numberof eighteen. When they got close up, they rose to theirseats, and brandishing their tomahawks and rifles in theair.

As they did so, three revolvers sent as many of them to theground, and the tiny crack of the Frenchman’s revolversounded quickly after. Monsieur Tierney had been an officerin the French army, and he was a dead shot with the pistol.

His man fell to the ground with a yell of pain, badlywounded.

Again the revolvers cracked, and yet a third time.

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Eight of the Comanches were down, and the remainingten, including Red Buffalo and Snapping Fox, were wavering.

Another discharge, and the fall of two more braves quicklydecided them. Turning their mustangs, they bent forward,so that the whites could not get a good aim at them, and offthey went like the wind.

“Go it, ole Red Buffler. I let ye go off this time, fur Iwant ter hev a stand-up fight wid ye. Yer maxim must be,‘those who fight an’ run away, may live to fight anotherday,’ judgin’ by the way ye’re a-makin’ tracks,” said the guide,with a grin.

The four whites mounted their horses, and rode off towardthe south.

They reloaded all of their weapons, and were talking overthe recent fight as they rode on.

Suddenly the others saw Ralph turn in his saddle, and alow exclamation burst from his lips. What had causedit?

The others turned and looked back, but could see nothing.

“What is it, Ralph?” asked the young hunter.

“Look at the horizon. See that,” said Ralph.

“I see nothing but a cloud rising. What do you make itout to be?”

“I’ll tell yer what I know it to be. It is smoke. Thecussed Injins hev fired the grass. The wind is a-blowin’strong right toward us, an’ we must git. It looks bad, fur ourhorses are tired.”

The others started when they heard this. They werenot through with the Comanches, after all. Red Buffalohated them terribly, and although beaten in a square fight, hewas not beaten altogether.

Obeying the order of the guide, the whites set off at as rapida pace as they could command. This was not much, astheir horses, or at least three of them, were pretty well tiredout.

The Indians knew this when they fired the prairie-grass,and now the Indian chief thought he had the hated whites ina fix.

54

Little did he know the fertile brain of the old hunter.

Ralph explained to the other three, that some distanceahead was a wide, but shallow stream. The prairie wentdown to the edge, and the fire would go that far and no further.

There was a forest on the other side, and Ralph wanted toreach this.

On they went, casting glances of apprehension behindthem.

As the cloud of smoke and the fire came closer, theseglances were partly admiring ones. No one but a timid manor an absolute coward could fail to admire the scene, even atthis dangerous situation.

“Von beautiful sight. Von superb spectacle. Von grand,sublime, magnificent picture. De man dat paint dat, hebe worth a fortune,” murmured the brave and enthusiasticFrenchman, as he watched the huge billows of fire, asthey rolled upward, topped off with volumes of dense blacksmoke.

Now a herd of fleet deer would shoot past the four riders,their large eyes distended with terror, at the sight behindthem.

Then came a drove of wild mustangs, going like the wind.After this came a confused medley of buffaloes, wolves, coyotes,horses, deer, and in among them came a huge bear,which was making excellent time.

The fire looked grand and terrible, as it got closer andcloser.

The four whites could not help admiring the sight,even though they knew that perhaps it would be theirdeath.

The flames shot hundreds of feet into the air, and cameonward, at a speed which would have put a race-horsedown.

The wind was pretty strong, and as the guide had said before,was coming straight toward them.

On went the four riders, and on came the sea of fire.

It looked like a fiery avenger, upon the track of the whites,and the little Frenchman could not help wondering whetherhe and his comrades would ever see the sun again.

55

That bright luminary was hidden from sight now, by thedense clouds of smoke that covered the prairie.

The guide began to look anxious. The river was quite adistance away, and the fire getting alarmingly near, as theincreasing heat testified. At length the circus-rider exclaimed:

“How far is it to the water, Ralph?”

“About two-thirds o’ a mile, I reckon,” replied the hunter.

“We’ll never reach it, then,” said Barry.

“Jest what I was a-thinkin’,” said the guide.

“Then what in heaven’s name will we do? We can’t keepon this way. Have you no plan, Ralph?” said Barry.

“We’ll stop not over three hundred yards from hyar,” answeredRalph.

“How’s that? There’s not a tree, log or rock around. Explainwhat you say,” said the young hunter, turning to theguide.

“Why we can’t reach the river, that’s certain. We’ve gotto do something, fur thar’s no fun in being burned up by thepesky fire. Now what I propose is this. We’ll fight fire widfire. What d’ye say to that, now?” called out Ralph, tomake himself heard above the trampling hoofs, and the roaringand crackling of flames, which came rushing on like ahuge wall.

“We don’t know what you mean,” returned Barry, in anequally loud tone, for the very same reason.

“Why it’s this. When we git to that high grass overthar we’ll dismount, and start a fire o’ our own. How’s thatfur high?”

“It is von elegant plan vich ve shall follow at once, MonsieurRalph,” said the polite little naturalist.

Looking around as the Frenchman spoke (the naturalistwas a little behind the others), the hunter saw a sight whichcaused a huge grin to come upon his face, and it to relaxfrom its thoughtful mood.

The sharp and cool Frenchman had opened his umbrella,and was holding it above his head to keep the sparks off.

The guide gave a roar of laughter, in which he was joinedby the other two, and which was echoed by the subject.

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Then, as they had reached the spot where the grass washigh, the four men suddenly checked their wild career, andsprung to the ground.

The Frenchman had shut down his umbrella, and being inthe mind of the hunter the person most suited to hold thehorses, the latter were given in his care. The other threebegan to pull up the dry grass, and to pile it up as rapidly aswthey could.

It was a matter of life and death with them, and the waythey worked was a caution, their arms flew about as if bymagic, and the heap of grass grew higher and higher.

The Frenchman had his hands full in keeping the bridlesof his horses in his hands, for the animals, frightened at thenearness of the immense sea of fire, and at the falling sparks,were very wild and strove to break away, but the naturalistwas stronger than one would take him to be, and he managedto hold onto them, although several times he was very nearlydragged from his feet.

It was a singularly wild and picturesque scene. The smokeobscured the light of the sun, and the flames lit up the prairiewith a reddish sort of light, which made all objects have acurious look about them. There, pictured in the light, wasa little man, holding four horses by the bridles, and strivingto keep them quiet.

Close beside him were three others, plucking up the grassand pitching it upon the already large pile.

No wonder they did not stop an instant to note the nearapproach of the fire. They were working for life, and had nota second to lose.

It was getting fearfully hot, and they could stand it nolonger.

Ralph took out his revolver and fired a load into the drygrass. Then, as a tiny flame sprung up, he grasped his horseand waited.

The others relieved Tierney of their horses, for which thelittle naturalist was not in the least sorry. The small flamegrew larger and larger, and as the wind came down upon it,began moving, at first slowly, and then faster as it increasedin size and strength.

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CHAPTER XIII.
FIGHTING FIRE WITH FIRE.

Anxiously the four men watched the fire they had kindled,and as it grew larger and stronger, and rushed onwardmore rapidly, a loud cheer came from their lips, for they sawthat they were saved.

All they had to do now was to mount their horses and ridein the wake of the second fire. When the one behind themgot to the spot where the second had been started, it wouldhave to die out for want of fuel, which to it was the same asbreath to a human being.

The old hunter had literally fought fire with fire, and theexperiment had proved a complete success.

It was getting terribly warm now, and the four decided tochange their position. Mounting their horses, they rode afterthe fire which had been started by them. After going somedistance, they were forced to stop, as the ground was nearlyred hot, such was the heat of the fire that had just sweptover it. The fire behind them was only a few moments inreaching the black spot which told where Ralph had kindledthe rival flame. It quickly died away, and our friends turnedtheir attention to the other fire, which, in sailor’s parlance,was bowling away over the prairie at a rapid rate.

The river was soon reached, and then the second fire alsowent out. Had the river been narrow, it would probablyhave leaped across the stream, and continued to ravage bothforest and prairie.

The whites camped on the spot, for the ground was toohot for them to ride or walk over it. There was no woodaround with which to build a fire. Everything that wouldburn had been swallowed up by the fierce flames, and theprairie was now black and had a very desolate look about it.

There was no need of the whites’ building a fire, even hadthere been plenty of wood around. Here and there, wheregrass had been of an unusual length, were heaps of red-hot58cinders, if such we may call the remains of the prairie-grass.

All they had to do was to cook their meat by one of theseready-made ovens, and then proceed to munch it.

They cleared a round space of the burnt grass, and laydown upon the bare ground with only blankets around them.

The trapper and circus-rider smoked their pipes, and thewhole four talked together in low tones.

Then, feeling kind of tired, they lay over and slept, eachone taking his turn as sentinel. The horses were hoppled,but there was no danger of their trying to get away, or oftheir straying, for there was no sweet grass to lure them on.Poor animals! they had to go supperless that night, butRalph had resolved that they should pay up for it the nextmorning, for they should stay in among the trees on the otherside of the river for a day or two, reds or no reds.

Morning broke at last, and as the gray light in the eastbegan to herald its approach, the four whites mounted theirsteeds.

They found that during the night a cool wind had sprungup, and the baked ground had lost most of its heat; in fact,it was no hotter than it generally was in the middle of theday.

Away they started, heading directly for the river. Thehorses seemed to scent grass and water, for they exertedthemselves to get forward a great deal more than they wouldhave voluntarily done had their heads been turned in theopposite direction. The forest on the river bank was inplain view, and the four were rapidly approaching it.

The fire had burned down to the very edge of the water,and the contrast between the two shores was very striking;the one so bleak, black, and uninviting; the other so greenand beautiful.

Upon reaching the water, the horses rushed in and beganto drink heartily. Their riders were not long in followingthe example set by the horses, and they drank their fill too.

The stream was a branch of the Pecos, which the fourwhites had crossed just a few miles from the Comanchevillage.

They waded as far across as it was possible, and the59horses gallantly swam the remaining distance with their ridersupon their backs.

Upon reaching the other bank the four made haste to takethe saddles from their horses, and after hoppling the animals,they were left alone to eat the rich grass which was plentifulunderneath the trees, and which was not dry and witheredlike that on the prairie, for the simple reason that thesun did not get at it so much.

A fire was quickly started, and soon Ralph heard the crackof the young hunter’s rifle a short distance away.

The latter soon came into sight with his rifle slung acrosshis back, and dragging the carcass of a young buck he hadshot.

Ralph carved out a dozen fine steaks, and as the fire wasprogressing finely and without hardly any smoke, the fourwere soon busily engaged in cooking their steaks over theflames.

When the meat was done to a turn, they proceeded to makeit disappear, and as only four steaks out of the twelve wereleft, when all were done, we might safely say that the appetitesof the whites had not suffered any on account of theterrible death from which they had escaped the evening before.

The horses seemed to be enjoying themselves hugely, ifone might judge by the way they “went for” the sweetgrass.

They needed a good rest, and all four of the men decidedto remain in the grove the whole of that day, and to startoff the next morning. And even had the others wanted togo that day, Monsieur Tierney would have refused point blankto move until the next morning.

He wanted to take a look around the woods, and wouldnot forego that exquisite pleasure (to him at least), for anyComanches.

So immediately after he had finished his breakfast, hestarted off with his case in his hand, his umbrella fastenedto his back, and his tiny revolver in his belt.

He promised to come back before dark, and to be surethat if he did get lost he could follow up his own tracks, orfailing to do this, the others could track him, he stepped60heavily and left a plain trail behind him, which any Indianboy able to walk could follow. The others remained nearthe fire, for they had no curiosity to examine the woods as theFrench naturalist had.

The trapper told the others that this was a good time toclean their firearms, and the whole three set about it.

The rifles and revolvers were cleaned and oiled well, andnew loads put in, in the place of those that had been drawn.

Whenever Ralph, or for that matter either of the others,thought of the coolness of the naturalist, the evening before,in making use of his umbrella even when death seemed tostare him in the face, they could not help laughing.

They all admired the pluck of the Frenchman, and concludedthat the umbrella, which they had always looked uponwith disdain, was not such a bad thing to carry after all.

Little did the three men think that before the sun hadset again, they would witness the little naturalist display adegree of nerve and cunning that would have shamed themall.

Little did they think, that the humble umbrella was to beput to a use which for adaptability and a ludicrous sight hadnever been equaled before. All unconscious of what theywere to see, and of the amount of fun in store for them, thethree men whiled away the morning as well as they possiblycould.

The young hunter explained more fully to his comrades,how he had come to be captured by the Comanches.

The two others applauded him when he told how he hadsaved the Donna Iola from the panther, and afterward fromthe Indians.

“Jest like a romance, fur all the world. But ye say thatthe Donna Iola war from the South. I knew a little galdown thar named Iola Montgomery. Her daddy’s an American,an’ her mother’s dead. That’s a singular name, an’ Idon’t doubt but what your Donna an’ mine are the same.If they are, then ye may be sure thet Don Carlos, az theAmerican is called by the Mexicans, will follow up the trailwith his peons and vaqueroes.

“Ye say the Donna told ye that Red Buffalo took a roundaboutway to the village to bamboozle the pursuers, if there61war any. Now I bet we’re on the very trail they made, an’if so, we can look for the Don an’ his men at any time, furif the Donna does meet ’em she’ll hurry ’em up, ye bet,” saidthe hunter guide.

About two hours after noon, as the three men were sittingnear the fire, Ralph put up his hand, and told the others tolisten.

They did so, and heard five little cracks which soundedstrangely like the discharge of the naturalist’s revolver.

“The mounseer’s in trouble. Come, let’s go an’ help him,”said Ralph.

CHAPTER XIV.
A BRILLIANT EXPLOIT WITH AN UMBRELLA.

We will now follow the naturalist, and see what had befallenhim.

When he left his comrades, he wandered around in everydirection, his keen little eyes peering into every corner.

Now and then he would spring forward and gently pullup a modest looking weed (to all appearance), and examineit eagerly.

Suddenly a scream of delight broke from his lips, and heleaped over at least eight feet of ground, and knelt beside anew kind of herb. With trembling fingers he examined it,giving vent to various exclamations of surprise and joy atthe discovery.

“Sacré, I have found de plant at last. I am von famousman, an’ de society will make me dere President, vid a salaryof thousands of francs. Oh, Monsieur Tierney is von bigman. I have found vat I comes to Ameriky to hunt for, an’I is satisfied. Begar, vat vill dat rival of mine, Bedoubsky,say? He vill be von very mad man ven he sees me President.Mon Dieu, I am von happy man,” cried the Frenchman,as he tenderly pulled up the modest, but in after years,famous herb, by the roots, and put it into his case.

Long and earnestly did he look at it, as it lay in the62receptacle which had been long waiting to receive its almostpriceless form.

Noon had long since passed, and the Frenchman, too happyto think of such vile things as food, had not touched themeat that he had put in his pocket before leaving thecamp.

His thoughts were running into the future, and he wasbuilding all sorts of castles in the air, in respect to his fineprospects.

These were suddenly tumbled to the ground by a lowgrowl, which sounded close beside him.

Instantly the naturalist turned, and saw, to his great surprise,a huge black bear, coming directly toward him.

He had the presence of mind to slam the lid of the case,and as it had a spring-lock, it was fastened securely.

Springing to his feet, the little naturalist looked around fora tree which he could climb and remain in, until old Bruinshould choose to depart.

The bear did not seem to be very hungry, and the Frenchmanmight not have to wait very long for it to go away, afterall. The only tree anywhere near him was the one at thefoot of which he had found the strange herb, and underwhich he was now standing. He resolved to climb upamong the branches, and to remain there until the bear wasgone.

No sooner thought of than acted upon.

Seizing a branch, the lowest on the tree, he pulled himself,umbrella and all, up among the limbs.

The tree was a very singular-looking one. One side wasentirely destitute of branches, except at the top. Here apretty large limb shot straight out, and as this was bare andhalf dead, it looked like an arm. This limb was very nearlyeighty feet from the ground. The other side of the tree hadlimbs, large and small in abundance, up to the dead limb.Above this the tree was rotten, and full of the holes made bywood-peckers.

The bear came slowly up to the spot where the monsieurhad been seated, and began smelling around.

The Frenchman, for the first time, began to realize thathe was hungry, and so he took out his meat and began to63eat it, taking care not to attract the notice of the hugebear.

Five minutes passed and then the Frenchman happened tocast his eyes upon the bear. A shrill cry of rage came fromhis lips as he saw Bruin rolling his precious case around, andtrying to break it open. His unfinished dinner dropped tothe ground, and he yelled at the bear with all his might,using all the French words he could manage to get out, andmingling them with English in a terrible way.

This jargon had no more effect on Bruin than a flywould.

He took a look at the speaker, as if astonished to hear sucha jumbling of languages, and then proceeded with his fun, ashe deemed the rolling the case around, but to the little naturalistit was agony.

Suddenly the other bethought himself of his revolver.

Drawing it out, he took aim at the big bear and fired.

Again and again he shot, and at length the little pistol wasempty.

The effect upon the bear was about the same as a smallload of shot would have been. The bullets drew blood butthey did not disable the bear in the least.

They hurt, however, and the bear made a dash at the treein which his enemy was seated, and began to ascend.

The naturalist, seeing that it would not do to stay wherehe was, seized hold of a limb above him, and pulled himselfup.

Up, up he went, the bear following after, in a great rage.Yard after yard was passed over, and the little man was nearto the top of the tree.

He glanced nervously about him, but there seemed to beno escape.

He was on the last limb, and above him was the deadtrunk of the tree, and the half-dead limb which stretched outon the bare side of the tree.

What could he do? It certainly looked as though his lastmoment had come. The bear was just below him and in anothermoment would be up with him.

It was just at this critical moment that our friends camein sight of the tree, although a good distance off.

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At first they knew not what to make of what theysaw.

The naturalist was in plain sight, but the bear was on theother side of the tree, and in among the branches, thereforethey did not see him.

While they were wondering what was the cause of the littleman’s strange actions, they caught sight of the bear.

Then they knew at once what was the matter.

“Heavens, the French Parley Voo is gone up. We can’tnever git a crack at the varmint, an’ the mounseer is boundto be caught, ’less he jumps off, an’ that’s certain death. Lookthar; did ye ever see the beat o’ that fur coolness. The cussis a-straddlin’ the limb, an’ workin’ his way out, a-holdin’ theumbrella above his head, to keep the sun off. I’d go my bottomdollar on him fur pluck.”

It was indeed true. Monsieur Tierney was sitting on thehalf-dead limb, and edging his way out toward the end ofit.

Above his head he held his huge umbrella, as if to keepshady.

In the eyes of the three friends it was the very essence ofpluck.

The bear was creeping slowly and cautiously after him,stopping now and then to look around it. Once, it tried togo back, but it found it was no go, and that it was easier togo forward, so it kept on, thinking, probably, that it could gowhere the naturalist could.

It was a strange and fearful sight.

They were about eighty feet above the earth, and as itseemed, only a piece of rotten wood between the Frenchmanand eternity.

The three men thought that their comrade was only showinghis recklessness, when he raised his umbrella, as if to keepthe sun off.

They did not think that he was following out a brilliantidea, which at the last moment had flashed into his mind.

The bear kept crawling out, and as the Frenchman had tokeep out of his reach, he had to keep edging away until atlength he was as far as he dared to go.

Then, greatly to the surprise of his friends, he rose to his65feet, holding onto the handle of his umbrella with bothhands.

What was he about to do?

This question which the three asked themselves did notremain long unanswered, for the Frenchman began tomove.

“Look at the pesky leetle cuss. He’s dancing on the limb,by the highfalutin’ gimcracks. He’s tryin’ ter bu’st it!— Tharshe goes. He’s a dead man, by heavens,” said Ralph.

The Frenchman had by his jumping broken the limb, andlike a flash, both bear and limb came to the ground, the formerkilled, and the latter broken into a thousand pieces.

The three men followed the large body in its descent withtheir eyes.

That the naturalist was dead, they felt certain. He couldnever survive that fall.

The three men looked at the body on the ground, but totheir surprise could see no Frenchman.

Where could he be? He could not have saved himself bycatching hold of any of the branches, for there were none onthat side of the tree.

Barry, convulsed with laughter, which seemed very strangelyout of place, pointed up into the air, as if to explain hisuntimely mirth.

The others looked, and instantly the expression on theirfaces changed from the serious to the comic. And no wonder.There was the light little naturalist coming down, sailingslowly and majestically toward the ground, and holdingwith both hands to his large umbrella.

His brilliant idea had proved a success.

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CHAPTER XV.
WHY RALPH WAS CALLED THE “HUNTER HERCULES.”

How the naturalist happened to think of this very extraordinaryidea, none of the others knew. They saw, however,that it had proved a success, and that was enough justthen.

Monsieur Tierney was not hurt in the least, for the bigumbrella had let him down as softly as though it had justbeen made for that purpose. The three others soon had holdof the Frenchman, but they could not hold him long.

Breaking away, he rushed over to where his case lay, andopening it, he began to laugh with joy when he found theprecious herb just as he had left it. The guide soon explainedthe curious (to the young hunter and Barry) antics ofhis patron.

“Ye see, boys, he cum out to find an ’arb that he sedwould make him famous, an’ I guess he’s found it. Yemust excuse him, for ye know he’s only a Parley Voo, frog-eatingFrenchman.”

At length they managed to get the “mounseer,” as Ralphcalled the naturalist, over to where the fire was burning.

The guide cut off the choice portions of the defunct bear,and then followed them. The naturalist held his case underhis arm, as if it was a loving friend, and in truth was itnot?

Did it not contain that which was a mine of wealth to the“mounseer?” The Frenchman was right in guarding thecase closely.

Already he saw in his mind the astonishment and joy ofthe renowned professors, whose equal he was to become, andthe chagrin and rage of his hated rival, when he appearedonce more in Paris, bringing the precious and long-sought-forherb.

While the Frenchman was sitting at the foot of a tree,67doting upon his treasure, the others were lounging aroundthe fire.

All at once a thought struck Chauncy, and he turned tothe guide who lay near the fire smoking his pipe with evidentrelish.

“Ralph,” said he, “I’ve a favor to ask of you. My fathertold me that you was called the Hunter Hercules by the Indiansand hunters, but refused to tell me the story. He toldme to ask you to give it, and I do so now. Come, toe themark, old boy, and begin.”

“Wal, boy, I might az well come to the scratch, I see, forye’re bound to hev it out o’ me, an’ az it ain’t a very bigyarn, though a true one. The kurnel, or major, I forgetwhich he is now, boy, but I mean yer daddy, always said thatthe name was very appropriate, an’ I must acknowledge myselfthat I am some on the lift, in fact I never seen my equal.Wait till I get in a fight, an’ then I’ll show ye how I cameto git the name. But ye want to know how I got the nameon me first. Wal, then, I lay myself out to it an’ begin.

“Ye see I haven’t always been a hunter an’ a trapper, aguide an’ an army scout. I used to be a merchant once, andwas pretty well off, but a blarsted feller az I took in az apardner, he run off wid every thing he c’u’d lay hands on, an’left me ter pay the debts, an’ to do this I had to sell everything.

“Seein’ az a feller widout money couldn’t get on very wellin the city, I started for the prairies, an’ for the last twentyyears I have been out West. I made a heap o’ money at thegold mines in California, an’ I might go to the East now if Iwanted, an’ live like a gentleman. But to go on wid myyarn.

“Ye see, I jined teams wid an old hunter, an’ for a cuppleo’ years we roamed over the prairies, a-huntin’, trappin’ an’doin’ a little o’ Injin-fightin’.

“My chum, a feller named Buck Rawson, hed never seenme in a hand-to-hand fight, an’ so he didn’t think I wasmuch.

“One time we were up at Fort Laramie, an’ it war therethat I got the name ye talk about. There was a strappin’big feller, a head taller than me, an’ he was reckoned more68than a match for any feller in the fort, an’ there war somewell-known Injin-fighters around at that time too. This fellerwar az big a bully az ever I seen, an’ the way he madesoldiers, miners, hunters an’ reds obey him would have madeany one believe that he war the kurnel that had command o’the fort.

“He had a terrible fist on him, and was reckoned a deadfighter. I always had been a well-known wrestler an’ a verystrong man, an’ the very minnit I set eyes on this ‘Red’Lawson, I resolved that he wouldn’t come any o’ his tricksover ‘yours truly.’

“If he tried it on me, he’d find himself in hot water an’there would be a fight, for I had made up my mind to gofor him. Some of the hunters an’ trappers knew Buck an’me, an’ we war not long in gettin’ rid o’ our pelts.

“The fort warn’t much then; a sorter tradin’-post, wid afew blue-coats in it, so ye see this ‘Red’ Lawson had itjust his own way. I made up my mind that he had had hisway long enough, an’ that I would be the one that was to polishhim off.

“Buck Rawson war the feller that could give ye a gooddescription o’ that fight, but, poor feller, he’s rubbed out.Got shot by a cussed Navajo, while we were rescuing a womanfrom ’em.

“Wal, the way the fight come about, war az follows:

“The second day after I arrived at the fort, I war goin’along the street, where the log hut air, when I heerd a womansqueal. That is a sound I never could resist. If a womanyelled for help, an’ certain death stared me in the face,I would always run to the rescue. The sound came from alog hut, an’ I dashed open the door an’ rushed in. There,in the middle o’ the only room it contained, was that villain,‘Red’ Lawson, a-tryin’ to kiss a pretty woman, while herhusband, scared e’en’most out o’ his life, stood lookin’ on.That man war wuss nor a coward.

“A coward will always fight for one he loves, but thisbaby just stood an’ looked on, while the ruffian tried to kisshis wife, too scared to raise a hand in her behalf.

“Wid one blow I knocked the feller senseless, an’ ye maybe sure that blow war a pretty hard one. It cum straight69from the shoulder, an’ them kind o’ blows are generally killing.

“I dragged him out o’ the house and left him in the street,an’ wid the thanks o’ the pretty woman yet in my ears, Iwalked off. Thet arternoon Buck came rushin’ inter the hutwe occupied.

“‘Jewhilikens!’ sez he, nearly out o’ breath; ‘thar’s goin’ter be great doings hyur this evenin’. Some foolish cusswent for ‘Red’ Lawson, an’ he’s goin’ to keelhaul him thisevenin’. He’ll do it too, I b’lieve, for he’s in a terrible rage.’

“‘Do yer know who the man is?’ I asked.

“‘No,’ sed he.

“‘I do,’ sez I.

“‘Ye do. Who is it?’ exclaimed Buck.

“‘Ralph Bison,’ I replied, az quietly az I could. Buck instantlywanted me to gather up my traps an’ clear out, ‘fur,’sez he, ‘ye’ll never see the light o’ another day.’ I refusedto move a step, an’ then Buck told me he would see fair play.

“‘If,’ sez he, ‘“Red” Lawson tries foul play, I’ll put anounce o’ lead in his black heart, an’ do a good deed.’

“Toward evenin’ we went out, an’ soon I saw ‘Red’comin’ toward me wid a crowd follerin’ him.

“When he got close up, he drew a knife an’ made a rushat me. Nothin’ loth, I drew mine, but at the first strike botho’ the weapons flew from our hands. We daren’t draw ourpistols at that short distance, so ‘Red’ he struck at me widhis fist.

“I dodged, an’ guv him a blow behind the ear that kindo’ made him see stars an’ smell the ground.

“Up he got an’ made another rush at me, but went downag’in. The third time he closed, thinking that he might liftme up from my feet an’ throw me down. Ha! ha! he foundhimself in az tight an’ lovin’ a clasp az if a grizzly had holdo’ him.

“His breath came in gasps, an’ I might have squeezed thelife out o’ him then and thar, but I didn’t want to kill thecrittur.

“Then I astonished the heathens, by liftin’ the heavy fellerabove my head an’ pitchin’ him twenty feet off as thoughhe was a five-pound weight. Thar’s a heap o’ strength left70in these arms yet, though I am well on to fifty-five. Arterthat I became known as the Hunter Hercules, an’ have goneby that name ever since. Now ye’ve got the yarn, boy, an’though it ain’t an all-fired bloody one, like some I could tellye, but not vouch for, it’s true, az fifty fellers az seen it kinswear,” and the hunter proceeded to light his pipe which hadgone out during his recital, with a burning brand taken fromthe fire near which he sat.

CHAPTER XVI.
DONNA IOLA MEETS THE TRAILERS.

We will now return to the Donna Iola, whom we haveleft altogether too long, to follow the fortunes of our hero.

The young girl would have felt very glad had Chauncy butbeckoned to her to stop, for then she might at least die at hisside. She had conceived a very strong love for her rescuer,and it was with great reluctance that she separated fromhim.

How was she to know whether she would ever see himagain? More than once she had half-resolved to turn backand stay with him, in spite of his entreaties.

But then she remembered what Chauncy had said about herfinding assistance and coming to rescue him.

Although the hope was not very strong in her breast thatshe would find her father and his men, yet she could not helpthinking that perhaps, after all, there might be happy days instore for Chauncy and herself.

As long as Chauncy was in sight, she kept turning in thesaddle to watch him. Then, when she was out of his sight,she urged the brave horse on still faster.

She was unconsciously following the trail the Indians hadmade when they had her a captive.

Had she known this, she would have kept on it, knowingthat in a day or so she must come up to her father, if he wastrailing her up, as she was sure of.

71

After riding seven or eight miles, she slackened up thespeed of her horse, and let him walk, for the animal had hadquite a sharp run.

Soon she dismounted and walked beside him for nearly amile, patting him on the neck, and feeling very proud whenthe noble animal rubbed his velvet muzzle against her cheeks,as he was wont to do to Chauncy. He evidently saw in Iolaone whom he might, in some future time, call his mistress.

It was while Iola was walking beside her steed that shesuddenly branched off from the trail she had been pursuing,though unconsciously. It was well for her afterward that shewas walking when she left the trail, as the reader will soonsee.

All day long the lovely Donna rode on in what she believedto be the right direction. Just as night came on, she found,to her horror, that she had arrived at the place she had startedto ride off from the trail at. She had been riding in a circleall day.

She found plenty of provisions in the bundle which wasstrapped to the saddle, and made a good supper, despite hersituation.

She slept that night on the open prairie, with none to watchover her but her Father in heaven. And yet Iola was notone to be easily frightened.

She could not help wondering, however, whether her nextnight would be passed in the same way.

Long before the sun arose, she was up and off, eating herscanty breakfast as she rode. She knew that she had keptedging toward the right the day before (and this is natural toone not much accustomed to the open plain where there ishardly any mark to guide one) and to remedy this evil shekept turning a little to the left every now and then.

In this way she managed to go in quite a straight linebut although she did not know it, yet she was heading in thewrong direction, and was going nearly east instead of south.

All day long she rode, keeping a good look-out, but latein the afternoon she felt that it was fated that she shouldspend another night alone. When she reached a “motte”of trees she resolved to camp here, as it was a great deal betterthan the open plain, and there was a cool spring in among72the trees, too, and this the Donna and her horse attackedwith a vigor which was sharpened by long thirsting.

Upon going to the edge of the grove to see the sunset, shewas surprised and somewhat startled to see a band of horsem*ncoming toward the trees, directly from the west.

Who could they be? This was the question that theDonna asked herself, as her eyes first fell upon them.

Friends or foes, which?

She resolved to be ready for any emergency, however, andputting the saddle on the horse again she mounted him, andwaited on the edge of the trees, anxious to know who thehorsem*n were. She had no fears of being captured, evenshould they prove to be Comanches. Her horse, thoughtired, could not be in a worse condition than those of theband coming toward her, and she could keep ahead of themuntil darkness came on, which would not be long for it wasalready getting dusk.

As the band of horsem*n came closer, the Donna saw onething and that was: they were following her trail.

This made her feel that they were her enemies, the Comanches,for what would her father and his men be doingaway out here?

They would follow the trail left by Red Buffalo and hiswarriors when they had the Donna a captive.

The Donna could see one man dismount as dusk came on,and follow up her trail on foot, one of his comrades leadinghis horse by the bridle. Iola would have fled at once, but itseemed to her as though the men were not naked from thewaist up.

The band were hardly distinguishable as they rode up tothe “motte.” It was evident that they intended to encampin the trees.

As they drew near Iola heard one of them speak, and toher intense delight the words were not spoken in the Comanchetongue, but in fluent Mexican.

“Señor,” said the voice, coming from the dismountedtrailer, “we will have to rest here until the moon rises.Then we will take up the trail again, and follow it all nightif necessary.”

“You are right, Alvarez, we will follow it as long as possible.73We know that at the end of this trail is your mistress,and that end must be reached,” said a voice, that madethe Donna start and with a sobbing cry dash out.

The next moment she was in the arms of her father, DonCarlos, and the vaqueros and peons, brave men, every one ofthem, were crowding around her. A fire was soon lighted,and, over a hearty supper, Donna Iola related her adventuresto her father. He agreed with her when she said that an effortmust be made to rescue Chauncy from the Comanchesand when she related what the brave young man had done,the men (there were thirty of them) all signified their approvalof his decision. They loved the Donna, and any onethat had twice saved her from death, at the risk of his ownlife, must not be forgotten.

The Donna soon learned how she came to be tracked.

The men had come to where she left the trail, early thatmorning, in fact just after she was out of sight.

The trailer, Alvarez, after the Don had recognized thetracks of the Donna’s feet, soon found out the true state ofaffairs.

He knew that the Donna had made a circuit and hadcamped on the spot. He also knew that the fresh markswas the trail for them to follow. It was very lucky that theDonna had happened to be on foot when she left the maintrail; otherwise the trackers would never have suspicionedwho rode the horse, the hoof-marks of which they would haveseen.

The Donna slept that night in security, and early the nextmorning the whole band took the back trail.

That night they camped on the spot where Iola had leftthe Indian trail, and where she had camped two nights before.

The next day they took up the trail, and when night overtookthem they were not many miles from the river on thebank of which our hero and his three friends were encamped,and where Monsieur Tierney had that day performed his exploitwith his umbrella.

The moon arose, and as it lit up the earth the band, whowere in a clump of trees, heard the noise of a fight, just behindanother small grove about a mile distant. The yells of74the Comanches and the hurrahs of white men could be plainlyheard.

Common humanity prompted Don Carlos to leave theDonna in charge of a man, and to go to the aid of the whites.

But it was something more that made Iola hurry the menoff. She had a presentiment that her lover was one of thewhites, and that he was in a pretty bad fix and needed aid.

CHAPTER XVII.
A STERN CHASE IS GENERALLY A LONG ONE.

After Ralph had finished his yarn, the whites sat for sometime talking around the fire.

The afternoon began to rapidly draw to a close, and darknesswas soon at hand. The sky was clear of clouds, and allknew when the moon did rise it would have a clear field beforeit. The day had been pretty warm, but night broughtcool and very pleasant breezes with it. The birds had allgone to their nests or were asleep in the branches of the treeswith their heads underneath their wings. The animals whichwere generally seen in the daytime were all gone now, and themany voices of the night were the only things to be heard.

From the trees came the shrill scream of the panther, thelonely hoot of the owl, the scream of the night-hawk andcries from other animals and birds. From the plains camethe howls of the wolves, sounding dismally through the darknessof the night. From the river came the croaking offrogs and the buzzing of many insects that infest wateryplaces.

All were accustomed to these night noises and did not noticethem in the least. They were listening to the guide,who was telling a splendid story about “Kit Carson on thewar-path,” and how he avenged the death of a poor settler.

The hunter was an old friend of Ralph’s, and many atime had these two hunted together on the plains.

The three others were listening with great interest, for the75yarn (and it was a true one) was a very wild one, and wellcalculated to make the hearers feel an intense interest init.

All at once, while in the middle of a sentence, the guidestopped, and held up his hand for the others to remain quiet.He had heard some noise that sounded suspicious.

What it was none of the others knew just then, but theywatched the hunter as with head on one side he sat listening.

They wondered what noise the old hunter had heard, butin fact it was not a noise that he heard but the sudden stoppageof one which had been sounding in his ears since darknesshad set in.

The wolves on the burnt plain, on the opposite side of theriver, had suddenly stopped howling. To any of the others,this incident would not have meant any thing even had theynoticed it, which is very doubtful. But to an old hunter andIndian-fighter it meant a good deal. The wolves wouldnever stop howling unless some human being was near them.Therefore Ralph was listening for some sound which would tellwhether there were men on the other side of the river or not.He did not have long to wait.

A sound came to their ears, even though the wind was notcoming from the river to them, that even the Frenchmanheard, although of course he did not know what made them.

The sound which all heard was like that made by a crowdof horses or buffaloes, but the old hunter knew that every oneof those horses had a rider upon its back. At first he thoughtit must be Red Buffalo and the remnant of his band returningto the river after the fire to see if the whites had escapedor been burned up.

He soon knew, however, that the noise was a great deal tooheavy to be made by the Comanche chief and the few menwho had escaped with him. Whoever it was coming, therewere scores of horses, as the old hunter knew by his naturalsharpness.

Like a flash he sprung to his feet and stamped upon thefire. The young hunter and the circus-rider were not backwardin following his example, and the fire was soon extinguished,to the last spark.

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And now the question was had those who were comingseen the fire?

A loud yell, unmistakably pure Comanche, came to theirears. This startled the whites for three reasons, the first ofwhich was that they had no thought of being pursued by alarge body of their sworn enemies. Secondly, their foes werenearer than they had taken them to be, and, thirdly, theyhad seen the fire before it was put out. In fact, it had beena beacon for them for nearly half an hour.

“Onto yer hosses, boys. We’ve got to race for it ag’in,an’ the devil take the hindmost.” The four sprung to theirhorses and quickly placed the saddles upon them. Whilethey were adjusting the girths the bright moon, full andclear, peeped up above the eastern horizon, and lighted upthe plain and the river.

Then our four friends saw where the Comanches were andwhat their number was. They were just on the edge of the river,and were about to dash into the water as the moon showedher smiling face.

There were five score of horses, but only half that numberof Indians. Each man had a spare horse, which he ledby the lariat.

This sight made the guide feel very anxious, for shouldtheir horses get tired they had no others to change to, whilethe Indians could mount their spare horses, and they beingnearly fresh would gain rapidly upon the whites. As thefour leaped upon their horses the Indians dashed into thewater and came rapidly across.

Our friends rode off at as rapid a rate as they could throughthe forest. Three minutes afterward the band of Comanchesemerged from the water and rode after them.

When the Indians reached the plain the four whites werein full view, and giving a war-cry they started in pursuit.

At the head of the warriors rode Red Buffalo, the chief.

He and the warriors who had escaped with him had meta large band after they had set the prairie on fire.

This was the band the chief before leaving the village hadordered to follow after him. They brought spare horseswith them, and the chief, who did not feel sure that the firehad done the work he had intended it to do, resolved that,77after the ground became perfectly cool, he would set out forthe river. He knew that if his enemies had escaped theywould be somewhere in this vicinity, and even if he did notfind them he could find their trail. The Indians had comein sight of the fire, and had they not had spare horses theywould have tried to sneak up onto their enemies. As it wasthey knew that they could catch up with them anyhow, andso they resolved to have a race.

Away they went over the treeless plain.

Not a rock, nor a tree, nor a mound was in sight; all wasone boundless open plain.

The Indians were now in their glory, and they rode alongyelling and howling in their fiendish glee. They felt sureof their foes now, and could afford to yell a little.

As to the chief, he rode along in silence, although he waseven more rejoiced than any of his warriors. Was not hissworn enemy, the Hunter Hercules, in front of him, and wasthere not every chance of his being captured or killed? Thechief knew the hunter well, and he was well aware that inthe hand-to-hand fight that must occur, many would go downbeneath the iron arm of the hunter before he was rubbed out.

CHAPTER XVIII.
RED BUFFALO MEETS HIS FATE.

The fugitives were slowly but surely losing ground, and sothey urged their horses to the utmost. For the next milethey managed to keep up the distance between them and theirpursuers.

At a word from Red Buffalo the Comanches slid ontotheir spare horses, and then the gain was plainly seen by bothparties.

And now, away ahead the old hunter spies trees, and hisobject is to reach these if possible. There a stand can bemade with a little chance of success, whereas, out on the openplain, they would be sure in the end to go under, though78there would be a terrible struggle made before that couldhappen.

Again and again the three who rode mustangs kicked theirheels into the sides of their small but game steeds, and thelatter exerted every muscle and sinew to increase their speed.

Barry Le Clare could have easily distanced the Comancheson his noble white horse, Snow Cloud, but he was as brave aman as the sun ever shone upon. Never would he leave acomrade in danger. No, rather than do that he would suffera dozen deaths.

His nature was a noble one, and when a man with his willresolved to do any thing, that thing was surely done.

He knew that it was his duty to stay by his comrades, anddie with them if necessary, and his mind was made up to doit.

To tell the truth, he had no idea of running away.

The race was coming to a termination, for the whites werebeing overtaken, hand over hand. The trees were somedistance off, and Ralph saw that the Indians would be up withthem before they could reach the “motte” of timber beyond.

He resolves, however, to get as near to the trees as possible,and then to make a stand. It would then be “hilt tohilt.” What would be the issue? Were the four whitesdoomed to a horrible death?

The next fifteen minutes would decide their fate.

It looked very much as though they would never see anotherday, for ten to one, nay twelve to one, was more thanenough to lay them out. The Indians now saw what thewhites were aiming for, and they increased their speed so asto come up with them before the trees were reached. Boththe horses that the Comanches led, and those that they rodewere tired now, and had the fugitives only had fresh ones tomount they could have easily ridden away.

But the three mustangs were even more tired than thoseof the Indians, and at length Ralph saw that they must makea stand.

They were within a hundred yards of the trees, but theleading Comanches were up to them.

A word to his comrades sufficed to let them know his intentions,and then like a flash the whole four suddenly stopped79in their wild career. Their rifles were discharged withoutlifting them to their shoulders.

There was no time to do this. Every second was preciousto the whites, and every one must be used in diminishingthe number of their foes. Every one of the rifle-bulletsproved to hold a life in it.

Three warriors (the nearest to them) received the ballsin their breasts, and with wild screams that were heard abovethe howls and yells of their comrades, they threw up theirarms wildly above their heads, and letting their weaponsdrop to the ground, they slipped from their horses, and followedafter them.

Giving his rifle a whirl around his head, the old hunterlet it fly at one of his enemies. The Indian saw it comingand quickly dodged. He thus escaped a hard blow, but althoughthe heavy rifle missed the one it was aimed at, yet itdid its work.

An Indian behind the one aimed at, received it full in hisbreast, and he fell backward from his horse, pulling a comradewith him.

As the hunter threw his gun, the right arm of MonsieurTierney was extended, and a faint crack was heard by hiscomrades.

The Indians heard nothing but they saw a little cloud ofsmoke, and also saw a comrade fall heavily from his horse.

Again the tiny revolver sounds the death-warrant of anIndian, and by this time the others had their pistols out.

Crack! crack! crack! they went, sounding high and clearabove the noise of the combat. Again the deadly revolversflashed out fire, smoke, and lead. Again the Indians recoiledbefore this deadly fire.

Then with a yell of rage that rolled hoarsely along theplain, they dashed forward, and the fight became a generalhand-to-hand struggle.

The cracking of the revolvers scared the Indians for atime, but at length these gave out. As they did so, thewhites threw them at their foes, knocking several from theirsaddles with these missiles.

The ones knocked over got upon their feet again, but oneand all had badly damaged faces.

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And now the combat was hand to hand, hilt to hilt.

Which of the two parties will prove victorious, and whichwill come out of the small end of the horn.

The knives of the three men were out, and in full play.

The little naturalist was using his heavy umbrella withgreat effect. This was a novel weapon to the Indians, andthey are generally afraid of any thing new, even though it isnot deadly.

Therefore they kept as far away from the “monsieur” asthey possibly could. He managed to knock at least halfa dozen from their horses, however, and began to get so excitedthat he broke into a torrent of French words.

His tongue ran on like a machine, freshly greased, andthe Indians looked with wonder upon him. They thoughtthat all persons who talked so much were either women orcowards.

Yet here was a brave man who could beat any talkerthey had ever seen. At every blow he gave a shrill yell andthen went to work again with both his umbrella and histongue.

As to the knives which the other three carried, the Indianswere used to them, and they pressed our friends prettyclosely.

The chief, Red Buffalo, was trying hard to get at the oldhunter, and the latter nothing loth, was not trying to keepout of his way. At length the two came together, and theold hunter decided that then and there he would put an endto Red Buffalo, even though he was doomed to die the nextmoment.

Both carried knives, and as they came together, theyraised them to strike. The Indian chief had mingled a greatdeal with the whites, and had learned many of their customs.

Among others, he had learned how to use a knife in quitea skillful manner, and now the hunter saw that he had nomean antagonist to deal with. Blow after blow followedin quick succession, and the others all stopped fighting towitness the struggle between the two leaders.

The Indian chief knew the power of his enemy’s arm, andhe took care not to get within reach of it.

81

If the hunter ever clasped him in his arms, he wouldcrush the life out of him, as easily as a grizzly bear.

Red Buffalo had, many a time heard of the great strengthof the renowned Hunter Hercules, and he had seen some ofhis exploits himself, therefore he was pretty well acquaintedwith the latter’s mode of squeezing his enemy to death.

The chief thought that he was a match for the hunterwith his knife, but soon the other whites saw that their comradewas just fooling with the Comanche.

Clash, went the knives against each other. Steel hit uponsteel, and as if he was being beaten, the hunter went back alittle.

He guided his horse with his knees, and the intelligentanimal knew just which way its master wished it to go.

The chief, thinking that he was about to be the victor,gave a yell of triumph, and pressed his enemy more closely.

A grim smile lit up the rugged face of the hunter.

A dozen times he could have given the “coup de grace,”but he wanted to keep up the fight as long as possible, forhe wanted to give his comrades a rest.

As for himself, there was no tiring him out. His muscleswere like iron, and he could outlast any two men.

Again and again the Indian sought to put his knife intothe hunter’s breast, but each time he was foiled by the latter,who easily warded off the fierce blows.

Had the Indian been an experienced fighter he wouldnever have left his breast unguarded when he lunged out sofiercely. Even the horses of the two mortal foes seemed tohate each other, for they bit and kicked at each other, andreared up in their rage. At length, Ralph resolved to endthe fight.

Just then he heard a shout of warning from one of his comrades.A hasty glance over his shoulder served to show him thecause of it. Three Indians were hastening to the aid of theirchief. The hunter resolved that they should come up toolate. A loud, terrible hurrah pealed forth from their lips, andlike a thunderbolt he came upon the chief.

The latter’s attempt to guard off the deadly blows that wererained down upon him were useless.

A heavy blow from the hunter’s knife gave him his quietus,82and like a stricken hog, he gave a grunt, and fell from hishorse, stone dead. The knife had cut his black heart intwain.

Another yell came from Ralph as he turned, and in a momenthe was upon the three warriors, who were coming tothe aid of their chief. His knife pierced the breast of one ofthem, and he fell from his steed with the deadly blade in hisbody.

The Comanches saw that the hunter was now unarmed, andthey thought they could easily kill him now.

Never were men more utterly mistaken in their lives.

Seizing hold of one of them he pulled him from hishorse.

Then all saw that the man had been rightly named theHunter Hercules. With what seemed to be a slight effort towhat he was capable of making, he raised the heavy Indianabove his head, and after balancing him a couple of seconds,sent him forward with a velocity that man had never seenbefore. It seemed as though he had been shot from themouth of a cannon. The second Indian was struck in thebreast by the first, and he was knocked a dozen feet from hishorse.

Barry could not help thinking what a star the hunter wouldmake in a circus.

CHAPTER XIX.
HILT TO HILT AND FACE TO FACE.

As the Comanches saw their leader fall, they uttered athundering yell of rage, and came like a thunderbolt againstthe little band of whites. This was echoed by a chorus ofhurrahs from the trappers, and then they went at it again.

There was no holding back on the part of the Comanchesnow.

They no longer cared for the Frenchman and his famousumbrella.

On they came, yelling like so many fiends, and the last83spark of hope died out of the breasts of our friends, as theylooked upon the ferocious crowd of howling demons.

There was not a spark of mercy in those gleaming, bloodshoteyes; no, all of that (if there ever had been any, whichis extremely doubtful,) had died out with the death of theirchief, Red Buffalo.

The old hunter had seized a knife and was now beside histhree comrades. Any one, upon looking at these men sittingon their horses so quietly, would have thought that they wereso terror-stricken that they could not move.

But let him take a glance at their faces, and then he seesthat which makes him confess at once that his former convictionwas utterly false. In those flashing eyes, firmly-setteeth, and stern-looking faces he would read their determination.

If it was fated that they should die, then at least theywould go on fighting bravely. The Comanches did not likethe appearance of the four hunters in front of them.

They looked like men in a desperate strait, who wouldfight for their lives like lions, and the Indians felt a little oftheir courage oozing out of their finger-ends, as they gazedupon them.

But they had gone too far now to hesitate, and so withhorrible yells, given to help keep their courage up, they mingledwith the four whites.

Then began a combat which could only end in defeat toone of the two contesting parties. None of those who werefighting, had even a thought that the whites would getoff.

The Frenchman was separated from the rest and was valiantlydefending himself from the fierce attack of several ofthe Indians.

His umbrella was whirling around his head, and now andthen coming against the head of an Indian with stunningforce.

The other three were together, and plying their kniveswith vigor on their dusky assailants.

More than one of the fierce, and bloodthirsty Indians wentdown before the iron arm of the Hunter Hercules, and yet despiteall of his valorous deeds, it seemed as though the four84whites must go under at last. There was not a single chancefor them to escape (as far as they or the Comanches couldsee,) and they had already made up their minds to it.

Ralph had one consolation, however, and that was the factthat if he did have to give up the ghost, he had slain hishated enemy, Red Buffalo, first. To the old hunter this wasa great thing, and he gloried in the fact that the Comanchechieftain had bit the dust with his knife in his heart.

It seemed too bad on the part of the little Frenchman thathe should be killed just as he had found the wonderful herb,and accomplished the darling object of his life.

But Monsieur Tierney was game to the back-bone, and nota word came from his lips as he fought on with stubbornbravery.

The guide had, upon first sight, taken the Frenchman tobe a city chap, who would run at sight of a timid deer.

Now he found how greatly he had been mistaken.

He cast several admiring glances over to where the gallantforeigner fought, and at length, seeing how the other wasbeing pressed by his foes, he fought his way over to him, andwith his strong arm, stood and fought beside him.

Although every one of the four whites fought with terribleferociousness, dealing blow after blow with savage earnestness,yet the odds were too great. The arms of three of thembegan to ache.

Barry Le Clare and Chauncy had both received a few slightwounds, but as yet none of the whites had been hurt verymuch.

Horror of horrors; would this terrible strife never cometo an end? Would the Indians ever put an end to it bykilling their opponents, or by fleeing themselves?

As to the latter, there was no chance of their doing that.Comanches were never known to leave a foe when he was intheir power, and it was not at all likely that they would doso in the present instance.

It seemed to the tired whites as though the combat hadbeen going on for hours, and yet all that has been told in thisand the preceding chapter, happened in the course of thirtyminutes.

There was one thing that the Comanches saw, and85that was, that their enemies would never be capturedalive.

Knowing this, they made no effort to take them, but didevery thing they could possibly think of, to kill them.

When Comanches can not get prisoners to torture, they arevery well satisfied with scalps.

And now they concentrated their forces for a grand andfinal rush, which would cut down all of the whites.

The latter knew what was coming, and braced themselvesfor the coming struggle.

They were all together now, and with heaving breasts anddetermined countenances they awaited the event, holding theirweapons in readiness. They knew that in five minutes morethey would be most likely rubbed out, and they only wantedto let daylight into a few more of their dusky foes, before thefight reached its final and fatal termination.

There was no mistaking the scowling faces of the Indians,as with one sharp, quick yell, that meant business, they rodeforward.

There were still eight to one, and this was too great oddsfor the whites to have any hope.

Help was nearer than they thought.

There was something in Chauncy’s breast that made himthink that, after all, they would be saved.

As the Comanches dashed forward, Ralph happened toglance toward the grove of trees which was on the left of thewhites, and to his intense joy, saw a large band of horsem*ncoming out of them, at a full, sweeping gallop.

A yell of satisfaction broke from his lips at this sight, andin among the Comanches he went, his huge fists lunging outright and left, and knocking several of the painted devilsfrom their horses. At first the Indians knew not what tomake of this. They had expected to do the attacking part,not their enemies. Their sharp ears soon heard the noisemade by the approaching horsem*n, and turning, they rodeoff, helter-skelter, with cries of surprise and rage.

It was very mortifying to say the least; this being defeatedjust when the fortune of war seemed about to make themvictorious. The horsem*n came up to the four whites, butonly two stopped. These were Don Carlos and his daughter.86The rest swept on after the Indians, and gained upon them,too.

The tables were completely changed now. The Indianswere the fugitives, and whites the pursuers.

“Ye just come up in good time, Don Carlos. In five minitswe’d ’a’ been rubbed out,” said the guide.

“Why, how are you, old friend? Give us your hand.How have you been making it lately, Ralph?” said the Don.

“Oh, pretty well. How’s that, Don?” said Ralph, pointinghis thumb over his right shoulder. The Don turned andsaw that the young hunter had Donna Iola in his arms.

“It seems to have gone too far to be stopped, even did Iwish it. Who is the young fellow, Ralph?” said the younggirl’s father.

“He’s the son o’ an old friend an’ comrade o’ mine. Wefit in the Mexican war together. He’s a rich gentleman, an’lives out East. His name is Major Branrare,” said Ralph.

“What’s that? Branrare, did you say? An uncommonname, and the name of my adopted mother’s brother, and Ihave heard that he was an officer in the Mexican war. Ifthis young fellow should prove to be his son, it will be allright for him. I will speak to him about it as soon as possible,”said the Don.

CHAPTER XX.
WINDING UP THE TALE.

The band of horsem*n and the Comanches had long sincedisappeared in the distance.

The moon continued to look down from the clear sky asthough smiling with joy at the escape of the whites.

The six rode over to the grove of trees in which the Donand his party had encamped. Chauncy remained with theyoung girl for over half an hour, and then the Don told himhe wanted to speak to him for a few moments.

Reluctantly he tore himself away from the company ofIola, and went with her father. He expected the latter to87ask him what his intentions were in regard to the Donna, andwas not surprised in the least when he said:

“Ralph, here, tells me that you are the son of Major Branrare.Is it so?”

Chauncy at once replied in the affirmative.

“Did you ever hear your uncle Henry Montgomery, whomarried your father’s sister, speak of his adopted son?” askedthe Don.

“Hundreds of times,” replied Chauncy; “and it is to huntfor him that I am out on the plains. Several things, amongwhich is your name and your knowledge of family matters,which I had not noticed before, now make me think that Ihave accidentally come across him. How is it?”

“You are right. But first tell me how my father, forsuch I own him to be, is?” said the Don.

“Both he and his wife are dead. His last words wereabout you,” was Chauncy’s reply.

“Heavens, is it true? I knew that mother was dead, butmy adopted father? Did he forgive me before he died?”asked the Don, in a voice choked with emotion.

“He did, and also told me that he found out too late thatyou had just cause to run away from home. He bequeathedyou two-thirds of his fortune,” said the young man.

The two relatives, by adoption, talked for some time.

Then all in the camp but one, who stood guard, went to sleep.

About an hour or so before daybreak, a trampling of hoofsaroused them, and they got to their feet just in time to seetheir friends coming up.

The Comanche band had been entirely demolished. Nothalf a dozen of the red-skins had escaped the fury of thebrave vaqueroes and peons.

They now came back, bringing a drove of nearly sixty-fivehorses, which with their lassoes—which they knew how tohandle superbly—they had captured.

The next morning the whole band set out for the haciendaof Don Carlos. They were three days in making it as theytook their time to it.

While resting here, the circus-rider gave a performance,and made the Mexican vaqueroes, who ride splendidly themselves,open their eyes with wonder and admiration.

88

They had never seen such riding before, and it was in vainthat they tried to imitate it.

Notwithstanding all of their natural sharpness and theirlife on horseback, they could not do what the rider Barry LeClare did on his famous horse Snow Cloud.

The little Frenchman was anxious to get back to “la belleFrance” with his renowned herb, and he and the guide soontook leave of the others.

Ralph promised that he would fix up his affairs in theWest and come East to live with his old chum, Major Branrare.He privately whispered in Chauncy’s ear that he wouldbe in New York in time to eat some of the wedding-cake, atwhich the young man laughed and promised to delay thatceremony, in case he, Ralph, should happen not to get in thecity at the given time.

Two weeks afterward, a party left the hacienda for theEast. It consisted of Mr. Montgomery, his daughter Iola,Chauncy, Barry Le Clare, and a dozen peons as guards.

The hacienda was left in the charge of Alvarez, an old andtrusted servant, and the best trailer in the country.

They intended to come down during a part of every yearand spend a month or two at the home which the runawayhad made in the wilderness, and in which he had lived foryears. He could not bring himself to sell it, and whenChauncy saw what a lovely place it was, his advice wasagainst parting with it. The party reached Austin in safety,and here they parted with all but two of the peons.

From New Orleans they took passage in a steamboat up toCincinnati, and from thence they went by rail to New York.

Chauncy’s father, a noble gentleman, welcomed his formerfriend and adopted brother, warmly.

A fine residence was bought on a fashionable street, andthen Mr. Montgomery proceeded to take his ease.

Iola was introduced into the first society, and created quitea sensation. It was acknowledged by all that she was the“belle of the season,” and many young gents sought her company.Iola looked upon them with contempt, however.They were not half so handsome as her Chauncy, and sheknew that none of them had the courage her affianced possessed.

89

At length, one bright morning, Ralph Bison arrived, dressedin a handsome suit which quite became him.

With the prairies he left his hunter’s language, and nowlooked and conversed like a perfect gentleman.

The first evening he was in New York he had quite anadventure. Going along a dark street, he saw half a dozenbrutal loafers insult a young lady. Ralph took her part andthe whole crowd went for him, but the Hunter Hercules proceededto try his old plan. Catching up one man he hurledhim against the others, and left the whole six lying in thegutter, ending up his gallant exploit with escorting the younglady home.

When the time for Chauncy’s wedding came on, the youngman learned to his surprise that Ralph instead of standing asgroomsman to him was about to stand as groom.

The double wedding passed off finely.

Ralph acted his part to perfection, and no one looking atthe handsome middle-aged gentleman standing at the side ofthe blushing young girl would have guessed that he was thefamous Hunter Hercules.

After the wedding, the two couples, accompanied by Barry,set out for Europe, intending to make the tour.

Chauncy had made the tour several times before, but thistime he was really happy.

They finished up with a visit to Paris, for this city oughtto be seen last, (or ought to have been before the war.)

The five were looking at some fine picturesque monumentand commenting upon it, when a voice behind them drewtheir attention to the speaker.

“Sacré,” said the person behind them, “it is von greatpleasure for me to welcome mine friends to la belle France.Mon Dieu, monsieurs, it is von fine country.”

They did not recognize the speaker. He was finely dressed,and had a gold representation of an herb pinned onto his coatlapel.

“Deuce take it, boys, it’s the ‘Mounseer,’” said Ralph,emphasizing the word, which he could speak as well as anyone if he chose; “look at the umbrella.” It was the truth.

The stylish gentleman was Monsieur Tierney, now a notedprofessor. His rival had quit the ranks of the naturalists90when he had come home with the wonderful herb, the modelof which he wore as an emblem.

He was a rich man now, and still he carried the huge umbrellawhich had done so much service on the plains.

He took our friends to a magnificent mansion which heowned, and treated them in a sumptuous manner.

He promised to come out in a few years and see them andthat wonderful horse, Snow Cloud.

The professor gave a large supper in their honor, and atthe table he arose to his feet and gave a toast which broughtforth cheers.

“Gentlemen,” said the professor, “I have von toast to propose.To von who is a true friend, a brave man and a noblehusband. Gentlemen, I drink in honor of de Hunter Hercules.”

THE END.

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Giving the various forms of Letters of School Days, Love and Friendship, of Society, etc.

CONTENTS.

No. 7.—DIME LOVERS’ CASKET.

A Treatise and Guide to Friendship, Love, Courtship and Marriage. Embracing also a completeFloral Dictionary, etc.

CONTENTS.

FRIENDSHIP.—Its Personality, Between Manand Woman, Close Communion Proper, Letters,A Warning, Excellent Advice, A PrimePoint, Allow no Improper Intimacy, Specialto Young Men, Something to Avoid, Gallantries,Gifts, Beware of Love, Correspondence.

LOVE.—The Dawn of Love, Love’s Secretiveness,Confidences, The First Consciousness ofLove, A Man’s Way, A Woman’s Way, UnworthyObjects of Love by Woman, UnworthyObjects of Man’s Love, How to AvoidMistakes.

COURTSHIP.—The Door Ajar, Disengaged, Engaged:at what age is it proper, Engagementnot to be protracted, The Wooing Time, TheProposal, Asking Papa, The Rights of a Parent,Engaged, Proposal Rejected, Breaking offan Engagement.

MARRIAGE.—The Proper Time, Various formsof Marriage, The Trousseau, Presents, Bouquets,The Bridesmaids, The Bridegroomsmen,The Bride, The Bridegroom, the Certificate,After the Ceremony, The Wedding Breakfast,“Cards” or “No Cards,” Notes Congratulatory.

AFTER MARRIAGE.—Something to be ReadTwice, Twelve Golden Life-Maxims, A Talkwith the Unmarried.

MISCELLANEOUS.—Language of the Handkerchief,Language of the Fan, Language ofthe Cane, Language of Finger Rings, WeddingAnniversaries, viz.: The Paper Wedding,Wooden Wedding, Tin Wedding, CrystalWedding, Linen Wedding, Silver Wedding,Golden Wedding.

THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.—How toUse the Vocabulary, The Vocabulary. I—Flowers,The Vocabulary. II—Sentiments.

No. 8.—DIME BALL-ROOM COMPANION.

A Guide to Dancing. Giving Rules of Etiquette, Hints on Private Parties, Toilets for theBall-room, etc.

CONTENTS.

ETIQUETTE.—Arrangements, Private Parties,The Parlor or Dancing Apartment, Music, Refreshments,Ladies’ Toilets, Gentlemen’sDress, The Guests.

MASQUERADES.

PROMENADE CONCERTS.

SOCIABLES.

ORDER OF DANCING.

SPECIAL RULES OF CONDUCT.

SQUARE DANCES.—Plain Quadrille, DoubleQuadrille, The Nine Pin, The Lanciers, TheCaledonians, The Prince Imperial, The VirginiaReel, The Spanish Dance, La Tempete.

ROUND DANCES.—The Waltz a Trois Temps,Waltz in Double Time, Cellarius or MazourkaWaltz, The Schottische, The Polka, the Galop,Redowa, Polka Redowa, Esmerelda, DanishPolka, The Varsoviana.

☞ These books are for sale by all newsdealers; or will be sent, postpaid, to any address, onreceipt of price, TEN CENTS EACH, by

BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers,
98 William Street, New York.

93

FAMILY HAND-BOOKS.

The Dime Family Series (Nos. 1 to 5 inclusive) aim to supply a class of text-books and manualsfitted for every person’s use—the old and the young, the learned and the unlearned. They are ofconceded value. Each volume 100 pages, 12mo., sent postpaid on receipt of price by the publishers,BEADLE AND ADAMS, 98 William Street, New York.

No. 1.—DIME COOK BOOK;

Or, the Housewife’s Pocket Companion. Embodying what is most Economic, most Practical, mostExcellent. Revised and enlarged edition. 100 pp. 12mo. By Mrs. Victor.

EXTRACTS FROM CONTENTS.

BREAD.—Potato, Brown, Bran, Water, Rye and Indian, Wheat and Rye, Milk, Rising, ButtermilkBread, Bread Biscuit or Rolls, French Rolls, Soda Biscuits, etc., etc.

HOT BREAD AND CAKES.—Short, Corn, Johnny, Apple Johnny, Griddle, Rich Griddle,Buckwheat, Rice Griddle, Corn Griddle, and Tomato Griddle Cakes, Bannock, Waffles, Muffins,Apple Fritters, Rye Fritters, etc., etc.

OTHER BREAKFAST DISHES.—Toast, Dry Toast, Buttered Toast, Milk Toast, Fried Rice,Omelet, Scrambled, Poached and Boiled Eggs, Wheaten Grits, Hominy, Samp, Hasty Pudding.

MEATS.—Roasting, Boiling, Frying; sixteen various methods for preparing same.

VEAL.—Boiled Veal, Fried Chops, Veal Pie, Leg of Veal, Loin of Veal, Shoulder of Veal, Calves’Feet, Calf’s Head and Liver.

MUTTON.—Mutton Chops, Chops as Beefsteaks, Neck of Mutton, Shoulder of Mutton, Leg ofMutton, Haunch of Mutton, Saddle of Mutton, Mutton Cutlets, Irish Stew, Leg of Lamb, etc.

PORK.—Pork Steaks, To Fry Pork, To Roast Pork, Spare Ribs of Pork, To Boil a Ham, Pig’sFeet, Souse, Head Cheese, Fine Sausages, Pickle for Hams, Salting Pork, To Melt Lard.

POULTRY AND GAME.—Roast and Boiled Turkey, Roast and Baked Goose, Ducks, RoastFowl, Chickens Boiled, Fowl Broiled, To Fricassee a Fowl, Chicken Pie, To Cook Pigeons, etc.

FISH.—To Fry Fresh Fish or Eels, Baked Shad, To Broil Fresh Fish, Fresh Codfish, Salt Codfish,Codfish Balls, Stewed Oysters, Fried Oysters, Pickled Oysters, Chowder.

NICE BREAKFAST DISHES.—Fresh Meat, Griddles, Clam Griddles, Oyster Pancakes, FishBalls, Codfish Toast, Rice Balls, Hashed Mutton, Head Cheese, A New Breakfast Dish.

SOUPS.—Beef, Vermicelli, Pea, Bean, Split Peas and Barley, Vegetable and Rice, Tomato.

VEGETABLES.—Twenty different varieties.

SAUCES.—White, Caper for Fish, Egg, Plain Butter, Cranberry, Apple, Sweet.

SALADS.—Radishes, Celery.

PIES.—Twenty-five different varieties.

PUDDINGS.—Christmas Plum Pudding, and eighteen other recipes.

CAKES.—Thirty-four recipes.

TEA, COFFEE, CHOCOLATE.—Eight recipes.

JELLIES, PRESERVES, Etc.—Forty-one recipes.

PICKLES.—To Pickle various kinds of Vegetables and Fish.

ICE CREAM.—How to make it.

OYSTERS AND OTHER SHELL-FISH.

THE CARVER’S MANUAL.—General directions for Carving.

MISCELLANEOUS.—Chicken and Plum Pudding, Potato Muffins, Drop Biscuit, etc., etc.

No. 2.—DIME RECIPE BOOK:

A Companion to the Dime Cook Book. A Directory for the Parlor, Nursery, Sick Room, Toilet, Kitchen, Larder, etc. Revised and enlarged edition. By Mrs. Victor.

EXTRACTS FROM CONTENTS.

THE PARLOR.—To choose Carpets, Directions for Carpets, To clean Turkey Carpets, Moth inCarpets, To extract Oil or Spermaceti from Carpets, etc., To make Stair Carpets last, Cheap Carpet,To wash Carpets, to sweep Carpets, House Cleaning, to clean Looking-glasses, Oil Paintings,Mahogany, etc., To preserve Gilding and clean it, To take Stains out of Mahogany, to clean BrassOrnaments, Marble, Lamp, Paint, To polish Mahogany, To remove Grease from Books, To preventMold in Books, Paste, Ink, and Leather, To clean Silver-plated Candlesticks, To remove Rust, etc.

THE NURSERY AND SICK ROOM.—Clothing of Infants, Waking Suddenly, Restlessness atNight, Ointment for Scurf in the Heads of Infants, Teething, Vaccination, Worms in Children,About Children, Hair of Children, Hooping Cough, Dysentery, Scarlet Fever, Putrid Sore Throat,etc., A Cure for Burns, Scalds, Body in Flames, and seventy more recipes.

FOOD FOR THE SICK.—A Strengthening Jelly for Invalids, Mutton Custard for Bowel Complaintsor Consumptive Cases, Chicken, Beef, etc., Toast Water, Rice Jelly, Bread Jelly, Calves’Foot Broth, Panada, Beef Tea, Wine Whey, Water Gruel, Milk Porridge, Rice Gruel, MedicatedPrunes.

THE TOILET; THE HAIR.—To remove Dandruff, A Capital Pomade, Twiggs’ Receipt forthe Hair, Bandoline for the Hair, Hair-curling Liquid, Oil of Roses.

THE TEETH.—To clean the Teeth and Gums, Quinine Tooth Powder, Prepared Charcoal, PeruvianBark Powder, Homeopathic Chalk, Cuttle Fish Powder, Lip Salve.

THE HANDS.—To remove Stains from the Hands, To improve the Hands and Arms, Ointmentfor the Hands, Chapped Hands.

THE COMPLEXION.—To preserve It, Wash for a Blotched Face, To remove Sunburn, Blotches,Freckles, Pimples, Kalydor for Complexion.

COSMETICS, PERFUMES, Etc.—Face Powder, Pearl Powder, Rowland’s Macassar Oil, andtwenty more recipes.

CARE OF CLOTHING.—Furs, Woolen, Silk, Gloves, Ribbons, Lace, Bonnets, etc.

THE KITCHEN.—To can Fruit, Pears, Quinces, Berries, Peas, Beans, Tomatoes, Green Corn, Topreserve Fruit Jellies from Mold, To prevent “Graining,” and seventy-five more recipes.

MELANGE.

HOW TO MAKE BUTTER AND CHEESE.

PROCESS OF WINE-MAKING.

MISCELLANEOUS.—To mend China, To get rid of Bedbugs and co*ckroaches, To make Ink,To manufacture Candles, To repair Broken Glass, and a hundred other useful recipes.

94

No. 3.—DIME FAMILY PHYSICIAN,

And Manual for the Sick Room. With Family Diseases and their Treatment, Hints on Nursingand Rearing, Children’s Complaints, Physiological Facts, Rules of Health, Recipes for Preparingwell-known Curatives, etc., etc., based upon the authority of Drs. Warren, Donna, Parker,and others. Expressly prepared for the Dime series.

This admirable work is peculiarly fitted for PRACTICAL use in ordinary cases. To mothers andnurses—to those living on farms or in villages where a physician is not always available—to thosewho wish to save expense in those cases where the illness is not of a complicated or serious character—thisbook will prove a Companion and Guide. Its contents are as follows:

SKIN DISEASES.—Barber’s Itch, Discolored Skin, Disorders of the Hair, Disorders of Oil andSweat Glands, Dry Pimples, Erysipelas, Inflammatory Blush, Itch, Measles, Nettle and Rose Rash,Capulous Scall, Scarlet Fever, Tetter, Warts and Corns.

BRAIN AND NERVE DISEASES.—Apoplexy and Palsy, Cramp, Catalepsy, Dropsy of theBrain, Dizziness and Fainting, Enlargement of the Brain, Epilepsy, Hiccough, hydrophobia, Headache,Inflammation of the Brain, Locked-Jaw, Neuralgia, Nightmare, Sunstroke, etc.

DISEASES OF THE THROAT.—Influenza, Mumps.

DISEASES OF THE CHEST.—Bronchitis, Lung Fever, Pleurisy.

DISEASES OF THE ABDOMINAL CAVITY.—Cramp in the Stomach, Colic, Costiveness,Dyspepsia, Gravel, Heartburn, Inflammation of the Liver, Kidneys, Spleen, Stomach and Bowels,Milk Sickness, Piles, Suppression of Urine, Vomiting.

DISEASES OF THE GENERAL SYSTEM.—Bilious, Remittent Fever, Boils, Burns and Scalds,Bites of Venomous Snakes, Bites of Insects, Chilblains, Cancer, Congestive Fever, Carbuncle,Drowning, Earache, Fever and Ague, Felon, Frost Bites, Malignant Postule, Nose-bleeding, Rupture,Rheumatism, Scurvy, Scrofula, Strains, Tooth-ache, Typhoid Fever, etc.

ACCIDENTS—REMEDIES.—Apparent Death from Noxious Vapors, Apparent Death fromCharcoal, Apparent Death from Lightning, Apparent Death by Hanging, Bleeding from a Wound,Belladonna, Hyoscyamus, Stramonium and Conium, Clothing on Fire, Upsetting of a Boat.

ANTIDOTES TO POISON.—Ammonia or Hartshorn, Antimonial Wine, Tartar Emetic, Arsenic,Corrosive Sublimate, Dogwood, Ivy, etc., Nitric, Sulphuric, or Muriatic Acid, Niter or Saltpeter,Oxalic Acid, Opium, Laudanum, Morphine, Prussic Acid, Spanish Flies, Strong Lye,Strychnine, Sugar of Lead, and others.

DISEASES OF CHILDREN.—Croup, Colic, Diarrhea, Fever, Fits, Spasm, Hooping-cough,Nursing Sick Children, Rickets, Scrofula, Signs of Disease.

RULES OF HEALTH.

No. 4.—DIME HOUSEWIVES’ MANUAL;

Or, How to Keep House and Order a Home; How to Dye, Cleanse, and Renovate; How to Cut,Fit, and Make Garments; How to Cultivate Plants and Flowers; How to Care for Birds andHousehold Pets, etc., etc. A Companion to the Dime “Cook” and “Recipe” Books. By Mrs.M. V. Victor. The contents are as follows:

HOW TO KEEP HOUSE.—System, Household Articles, Copper Vessels, Blankets, HouseCleaning, To make a Cheap, Easy and Handsome Chair, A Toilet Table, A Lounge, a Pair of Ottomans,Window Shades, A Washstand, a Wardrobe, An Hour Glass, a Work-Table, Fireboard ofPaper Flowers, To make a Rug, Common Mats and Rugs, The Care of Beds, Feathers, FeatherBeds, A Few Hints, Selection of paper-hangings, The Nursery, Escaping from Fire, Accidentsfrom Burning, How to Serve Dinner.

HOW TO DYE AND CLEANSE.—General Directions, Scarlet, Crimson, Pink, Madder, Red,Purple, Lilac, Purple Slate, Common Slate, Blue, Sky-Blue, Yellow, Orange, Nankeen, Green,Brown, Cinnamon Color, Black, To Dye Straw Bonnets Black, Straw-Color for Silks, Orange forSilk, To Dye Feathers, to Clean Furs, To Clean a Coat, Crape Shawls, Scarfs, etc., Carpets, WhiteLace Vails, Kid Gloves, Feathers for Beds, How to Wash and Iron, Starching, Folding, Ironing,etc., To prepare Starch, Flour Starch, Glue Starch, Starching Clothes, Sprinkling Clothes, FoldingClothes, Ironing, Starching, To Clear-Starch Lace, etc., Ironing Laces, Calicoes, Flannels, BlackLace, To Wash White Counterpanes and Calico Quilts, To Restore Luster to Black Silk, BlackReviver for Faded Mourning Dresses, Black Coats, etc., To Restore Dark Blue (or any other Colored)Silk or Ribbon, To Bleach Wool, Silk and Straw.

HOW TO CUT AND MAKE GARMENTS.—A Dress, Summer Jackets, Winter Jackets, Aprons,Cape, Shirts, Children’s Clothing, Infants’ Clothing, Choice of Colors.

HOW TO TAKE CARE OF PLANTS, FLOWERS, Etc.—House Plants, Plants Designed toStand Over, Plants Designed for Flowering, Potting Plants for Winter Use, Bulbous Flowers inthe House, Camelia, Japonicas, Green-house Plants, Mignonette Flowers throughout the Year, ToPreserve Dahlia Roots, To Protect Tender Plants Left Out, Compost for Potting Plants, TheFlower-garden, Roses, Monthly Roses, Geraniums, Climbers for Walls, The Passion-Flower,Callas or Ethiopian Lily, Dahlias, Lilacs, Nasturtion, Gooseberry, Strawberry, Celery, Asparagus,Quince, To Obtain Different Flowers from the Same Stem, To Remove Mildew and Blight.

HOW TO TAKE CARE OF BIRDS AND HOUSEHOLD PETS.—When and How to PairCanaries, Situation of the Cage, Food while Pairing, Nests and Nest-Boxes, Food while Bearingtheir Young, Time of Hatching, How to Feed Them, To Bring the Young Ones up by Hand, Pastefor Young Birds, German Paste for Cage Birds, To keep away Insects, To Distinguish the Sex,Mocking Bird, American Yellow Bird, Bullfinches.

DISEASES OF BIRDS AND THEIR TREATMENT.—Molting, Swelling or Inflammation,The Surfeit, The Pip, the Husk, Egg-bound.

No. 5.—DIME DRESSMAKER.

Introduction, The Corsage, Waist or Body, The Sleeves, Mourning, Negligee Toilet, Ribbons,Traveling Toilet, Cloak-making, Bonnets, Patterns for Cutting Out Dresses, Work, Materials andImplements, Purchase of Materials, Dictionary of Millinery and Dressmaking, Technical Terms inDressmaking and Millinery, Laces and Embroideries, Colors, Flowers, etc., Corbeille in Marriage.

☞ These books are for sale by all newsdealers; or will be sent, post-paid to any address, onreceipt of price, TEN CENTS EACH, by BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, 98 Wm. St., N. Y.

96

THE ILLUMINATED
DIME POCKET NOVELS,
PUBLISHED SEMI-MONTHLY.

The following will be issued in the order and on the dates indicated:

☞ Beadle’s Dime Pocket Novels are always in print and for sale by all newsdealers; or will be sentpost-paid, to any address; single numbers, ten cents; six months (13 Nos.) $1.25; one year (26 Nos.) $2.50.

Address, BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William Street, New York.

Transcriber’s Notes

• Silently corrected a few typos.
• Retained publication information from the printed edition: this eBook is public-domain in the country of publication.
• In the text versions only, text in italics is delimited by _underscores_.
• Created a Table of Contents based on the chapter headings.