THE SCOUT ON THE WATCH.
When Buffalo Bill returned from the Dead Line to his secret camp, it was
to prepare himself for several days' absence from it, for his intention
was to hang about the Last Chance trail, discovering all that it was in
his power to do.
He found a retreat upon a cliff, where there was a thicket of pines,
giving him a view in both directions of the trail for a mile or more.
He saw from there the coach coming to the rendezvous, with the ransom
money for Celeste Seldon's release, and upon the box beside the driver
was Doctor Dick.
Yet the scout did not know who might be inside the stage, so dared not
make any sign of his presence.
On went the coach, and Buffalo Bill at once started down from the cliff,
and followed in its trail at an Indian trot, which kept him well up with
it, yet just out of sight.
As he approached the Dead Line, he went more cautiously, and, reaching
the entrance to the pass, made a flank movement and climbed to the top
of the ridge.
It was after continued search that he at last found a point of
observation, and he risked his life by reaching a spot where he would be
dashed to death, hundreds of feet below, should his foot slip or nerve
fail him.
From this spot, where he clung to a tree, he turned his field-glass down
the pass, and could see the coach standing at the Dead Line, a quarter
of a mile away. He saw that the coach had been turned to the
right-about, the team being headed back for Last Chance, and Doctor Dick
was standing near it, Harding being still on the box and grasping the
reins.
Watching, with every nerve strung, the scout saw the masked road-agent
appear, and later the fair captive. Then followed two other road-agents
bearing the baggage of Celeste Seldon, and soon after the coach started
upon its return.
Buffalo Bill could not have reached a point to head it off had he tried,
and he felt that he must still be cautious. But he was determined to
reach the Dead Line and take up the trail from there, for certainly the
road-agents had not allowed Celeste Seldon to walk to the scene of the
exchange.
After half an hour he gained a point just over the Dead Line, and from
there saw that all was quiet. The outlaws had left, beyond all doubt.
It was an hour before the scout could make his way around to the Dead
Line, and there he felt in the little "post-office" for a letter from
Harding. But none was there.
"He dared not attempt it," he muttered.
Then taking a leaf from his note-book, he wrote:
"I am again on the trail. I saw the lady returned to
you. I will take the outlaws' trail from here, and hope
to track them to their lair.
"In a few days, now, I will have the surgeon-scout with
me in my work, so the end is not far away.
"Keep me posted as before, as I will you.
"Yours, B. B."
This was placed in the receptacle near the cross, and, shouldering his
rifle, Buffalo Bill set out to look for trails.
It took him a long while to satisfy himself that he was on the right
track, but at last he struck off at a lively step along a trail which
only a man of his frontier skill could have discovered.
After a walk of a mile he suddenly came upon a spot where there were the
tracks of a horse visible. These he followed a mile farther, and the
scout saw that the ground was trampled down, but not by hoofs.
The track he had followed thus far had been that of one hoof only,
showing that the other three had been muffled, but one had lost its
covering.
The trampled grass and ground revealed that the horses had been left
there, and all had had their hoofs muffled in some way.
But the keen eyes of the scout picked up the trail, and he followed it
quite rapidly until he came to a small stream.
"There were eight horses along, as their tracks show here, but how many
men I do not know. When they have gone some miles farther they will
remove the muffles from their horses' hoofs, and then the trail will be
easy to follow, and it now looks to me as though I will be able to track
them to their retreat, and that means the end.
"But night is coming on now, and this is just the place for me to branch
off and go to my own camp, following the trail to-morrow on horseback."
Buffalo Bill quickly decided what course he would pursue. He would walk
to his camp, get some provisions and an increased outfit, return there
for the balance of the night and go into camp, so as to make an early
start in the morning directly on the trail.
So he set out at a rapid walk, and within three hours' time had reached
his basin camp. He quickly set to work to look up some provisions and
get ready for his trail, and in an hour was ready to start, mounted upon
his best horse.
It was after midnight when he reached his camping-place, but he was soon
asleep, wrapped snugly in his blankets, while his horse was resting and
feeding.
With the breaking of dawn he was up and ready to start, and a few miles
away discovered the spot where the outlaws had removed the muffles from
the hoofs of their horses.
From there on he felt no further anxiety about the trail, so cooked his
breakfast, ate it leisurely, and again started on his way.
He understood now thoroughly why the outlaws had left no trails going to
and coming from the Dead Line and other points upon the Overland Trail.
The muffled hoofs of the horses explained this, and they stuck to their
determination to leave no tracks until they got far away from the scene
of their evil deeds.
Buffalo Bill did not believe that he would have to go very far from the
Dead Line before he found their retreat, and was expecting to find out
where they were in hiding within half a day's ride from his
starting-point.
But noon came, and still the trail led him on. He had plenty of time, so
did not hurry. He could do nothing alone, other than to discover the
retreat, and then he would make for his rendezvous with the
surgeon-scout, and together they would plan their future movements.
But night came on, and found him still on the trail. He was compelled to
go into camp, for he could not follow it by night, and he soon made
himself comfortable.
Again he started after daybreak, and a ride of several hours caused him
to say:
"This trail is surely leading direct to the Grand Canyon of the Colorado.
Can they have sought that weird land for a retreat?--yet why not, for no
safer one could be found."
Within an hour more he felt that the country had a familiar look, and he
was not long in discovering upon riding a few miles farther, that he had
ridden right along there with Doctor Dick when on the trail of Andrew
Seldon.
Suddenly he came upon the grand vista of the canyon, and at once drew
rein. There before him was the mighty view that had so impressed him on
his former visit, and he knew that the outlaws must have found a retreat
in the depths of the Grand Canyon.
Not daring to go farther on horseback, he rode off the trail to find a
hiding-place for his horse, and, after a search, discovered a little
glen where he felt that he would be safe, unless his trail was
discovered and he was tracked there.
There was a pool of water in one end and grass about it, so he staked
his horse out, feeling that he could at least subsist comfortably there
for a couple of days, should he be kept away that long.
Hiding his saddle and bridle he set out on foot, with a couple of
blankets strapped on his back, his bag of provisions, rifle, lasso, and
belt of arms.
He went back to the trail and again took it up where he had left it to
hide his horse. Every step forward now was one of caution, for the
country was open in places, and he did not know what moment he might
come upon a party of outlaws and have to fight for his life.
But he reached the rim of the canyon by dark, and a short search revealed
to him that the trail down into the depths of the tremendous chasm had
been discovered also by the road-agents, and their tracks led down into
it.
The night passed with a cold supper and breakfast, and then he set off
on foot down the dizzy pathway leading to the bottom of the canyon, for
now he felt sure that he would discover the lair of the outlaws, and
that done and his own presence unknown to them, he could arrange for an
attack upon them at his leisure.