A TRAITOR IN CAMP.
Upon the banks of a small stream, and beneath the shelter of a few
scattering trees, a large wagon train was encamped during the night on
which the scenes related in the foregoing chapter transpired.
There were fully half a hundred wagons, their covers, once snow-white,
now stained brown by exposure and travel; while, staked out upon the
prairie, were herds of horses and cattle, enjoying the rich grass.
The wagons were encamped in a crescent form, with each end of the
crescent resting upon the river bank. Within the space thus inclosed a
score of bright camp fires were shedding their ruddy light far across
the prairie.
Through the camp was a scene of busy life, the preparation of the
evening meal being the principal duty in progress.
There appeared to rest upon all a shade of sadness, for from their
number two were missing, and around their camp fires their absence was
sorely felt. A few hours before, they had started forth for a gallop
over the prairies, and a scout coming in reported that they had been
captured by a band of Sioux Indians.
But what could be done? Night was coming rapidly on; it was camping
time, and until the next day no move for their recovery could be
made, for it was impossible to follow the trail of the Indians in the
darkness.
The wagon train consisted of a dozen families, their teamsters and
guides, moving from the boundaries of civilization to the prairies of
the Far West, there to build new homes.
With one family particularly, among these daring pioneers, we will
have to become friends, for they will occupy no inferior place in this
romance of life on the far frontier.
In that family were five persons, consisting of Major Austin Conrad,
his wife, a sad-faced matron of forty-five, a son of twenty-two, Gerald
Conrad, and a daughter of seventeen, the joyous and beautiful Sibyl.
Then there was a niece of the major, and his ward, Ruth Whitfield, a
dashing, brilliant-looking brunette of twenty, who had been a belle in
her native city, until financial reverses had reduced her once proud
parents to want, and cast her upon the bounty of her uncle.
Major Conrad was an ex-army officer, who in early life had seen much
service on the frontier, but at length married his cousin and settled
down to private life and the enjoyment of his riches.
But reverses had at last befallen him and he was almost crushed beneath
his sorrows and misfortunes, until his brave wife begged that he would
leave the scene of his troubles and find a new home far in the Western
country.
New life seemed instilled into the major at the thought, and two months
after found him en route for a home on the border, accompanied by his
wife, his children, and his niece.
Joining a westward moving train, they decided to accompany the
emigrants, and the major, upon account of his military experience and
former knowledge of the country, was made the captain of the expedition.
Without serious mishap the train had proceeded on its way for many
miles, and then it came into a country where the pioneers felt that
danger was upon every hand.
But, undaunted, they pressed on, well knowing that if they could once
get a foothold and establish a settlement, they would be able to
bid defiance to all troublesome bands of Indians as well as to the
desperate band of the Branded Brotherhood, who, rumor said, warred upon
all settlers on the frontier.
They had met with their first serious mishap in the capture of Sibyl
Conrad and Howard Lawrence, the latter a young man who had joined the
train before it departed from Kansas City, and who, by his genial
manners and undisputed courage, had won the esteem of every one in the
pioneer band.
Sibyl and Howard Lawrence had ridden forth to look up a good camping
ground for the night.
A returning hunter had reported that they had been suddenly surrounded
and captured by a band of Sioux warriors.
After witnessing their capture, the hunter had concealed himself in a
motte until the Indians had disappeared with their prisoners, and then
had brought to the train the startling news.
Slowly the night passed away in the camp on the stream. With the first
glimmer of day in the east all were up and busy, for a band of twenty
horsemen, led by Major Conrad and guided by the hunter, who had seen
the capture of Sibyl and Howard Lawrence, were preparing to start forth
to the rescue.
Suddenly a cry of alarm was heard. The guards reported a body of
horsemen approaching, and through the dim morning light a small
cavalcade was indistinctly visible.
Nearer and nearer they came. Then the cry of alarm turned to one of
joy, for the forms of Sibyl Conrad and Howard Lawrence were recognized,
accompanied by one other, a tall, splendid-looking horseman, followed
by a number of led animals.
Quickly the cry of the guards was taken up. Then through the entire
encampment resounded the notes of joy. When the party rode up, a
ringing welcome awaited them, and their friends gathered around in
delight at their return.
Instantly Sibyl was folded in the arms of her parents, and warm grasps
met the hand of Howard Lawrence, who, in a few words, told of their
brave rescue at the hands of the army scout.
“You are, then, Buffalo Bill?” said Major Conrad, advancing quickly
and gazing intently into the face of the man before him, and upon whom
every eye was now turned with admiration, for his wonderful career was
known far and wide.
“I am called Buffalo Bill, sir,” was the quiet reply, “and I am glad
to have saved your daughter, Major Conrad; but, can I ask, as I learn
you are destined for the headwaters of the Republican, why I find you
bearing so much out of your way to the southward?”
The scout spoke modestly, and as if anxious to turn the conversation
from himself.
“We are under the guidance of an experienced plainsman, sir. Yonder he
comes, now,” replied Major Conrad.
The scout turned around at the words of the officer and glanced in the
direction of the coming man.
It was the hunter and the guide of the train--a man of almost giant
frame, attired in a suit of buckskin, and with a face scarred in such
a manner by a knife cut across the nose and cheek as to give it a most
forbidding expression.
One glance at the hunter, and Buffalo Bill exclaimed:
“What! That man your guide? Red Dick, do you know me?”
With a bound the scout was in front of the hunter, whose brown face
turned white, and whose eyes lighted up with a malicious expression, as
he said savagely:
“A man who has left a mark on me such as I bear is not soon forgotten,
I’ll take my Bible oath.”
Instantly the giant hunter drew a long knife and stood at bay, as
though expecting an attack, while the scout quickly drew his own keen
blade and appeared as if about to advance upon him.
“Hold, guide! Hold, sir. There must be some mistake here, for this man
has been a most faithful guide and was strongly recommended to us,” and
Major Conrad stepped forward between the two men.
“There is no mistake, Major Conrad,” said Buffalo Bill. “This man is
a renegade desperado, and we have met before, as he well knows. Stand
aside, please, and let Red Dick meet me.”
A step nearer the scout advanced, his eyes ablaze and fastened upon
Red Dick, who somewhat nervously awaited the expected attack, which
now appeared most imminent, for none present seemed called upon to
interfere.
But, suddenly, a slight and graceful form glided in between the two
men, and the hand of Sibyl Conrad was laid upon the arm of Buffalo Bill.
“Surely, one so brave, so noble, would not stain his hand unnecessarily
with blood in the presence of women and children.”
The face of the scout flushed, his knife was lowered immediately, and
he replied in deep, earnest tones:
“Lady, I am glad you recalled me to myself. But you do not know the
accursed life of this man, or you would hardly plead for him; but it
shall be as you request.”
Then, turning to his burly enemy, the scout continued sternly:
“Red Dick, this lady has prevented an encounter that should have ended
in your death or mine. Now I bid you leave this camp.”
The giant hunter turned an earnest look into his foe’s face, and,
reading there only deadly determination, said:
“I’ll go now, scout, ’cause you hold the winning card; but Red Dick
will be on your trail hot in the future.”
So saying, he wheeled away, walked to one of the wagons, and, taking
his rifle and accouterments, mounted his tall, raw-boned horse and
departed, leaving Buffalo Bill master of the situation.
But hardly had the huge form of the exiled horse and rider disappeared
over a roll in the prairie when suddenly he reappeared, and at his back
rode over a hundred mounted Sioux warriors, who came rushing down upon
the train with discordant yells and the war cries of their tribe.