FRANK'S FRIEND, THE GRIZZLY.
The young Indian was evidently very much surprised at the result of his
shot. He stood for a moment as if petrified, looking at the prostrate
form across the gorge, and then slowly and cautiously stepped out of the
bushes to take a nearer view. He shaded his eyes with his hand, twisted
himself into all sorts of shapes, ran up and down the bank, and looked
at the motionless figure from a dozen different positions, and having
satisfied himself at last that his enemy was really dead, he placed his
hand to his mouth, and uttered a series of hideous yells, that once more
awoke the echoes far and near.
His next move was to cross the gorge. He could not jump it, as Frank had
done, and so was obliged to make use of the tree. It trembled and
cracked beneath his weight, but he crossed it in safety, and bending
over the young hunter, twisted his hand in his hair and yelled
furiously. He held this position but an instant. He looked for the wound
made by the arrow, but could not find it. He _felt_ something, however,
and that was a very slight pull at his belt, as four sinewy fingers were
carefully inserted beneath it. With a cry of terror he sprang to his
feet, and Frank arose with him--unharmed, save a slight red mark across
his forehead, and as full of fight as ever. Before the young Indian
could fully comprehend the trick that had been played upon him, his
cries for help were stifled by a strong grasp on his throat, and he was
thrown flat upon his back, with his head hanging over the brink of the
precipice.
"Now, red skin, I'll show you how easily I can handle you," exclaimed
Frank. "I was only playing with you this morning, but now I am in
earnest. Keep perfectly still, or I'll pitch you into the gully."
Frank, as we have said, was greatly alarmed when he found that the
Indian had been calling for assistance, and that his shouts had
elicited a response from some of his friends. He had no fears but that
he could hold his ground against one Indian, armed with a bow and arrow,
but suppose that the reinforcements who were coming up were full-grown
Indians, and supplied with rifles? He must escape from there before they
arrived; and the only way that he could discover to accomplish this, was
to contrive some plan to induce his antagonist to cross the gorge. If he
could bring him to close quarters, and could get hold of him before he
had an opportunity to draw his knife or tomahawk, he was sure that he
would have nothing to fear; but he dared not leave his tree while his
enemy held his position on the opposite side of the gully, for he would
send his arrows about him like hail-stones.
All these thoughts passed through Frank's mind in an instant of time;
and when the savage discharged his last arrow at him--it passed so close
to him that it left a mark across his forehead--he staggered and fell,
as if he had been mortally wounded. That was his plan for bringing his
enemy across the gorge, and we have seen how it succeeded. His design
now was to disarm the savage, tie him to a tree, and then take to his
heels, and leave the gully as far behind as possible, before the
reinforcements arrived.
"I'm all right yet, you see," said Frank, holding his antagonist down
with one hand, and with the other unfastening the belt in which he
carried his knife and tomahawk. "If you live a few years longer, you
will learn that an Indian never gets smart enough to outwit a white man.
Now----"
Frank did not finish the sentence, for just then he happened to look up,
and saw a sight that drove all thoughts of the Indian out of his mind.
The bank on which he and his antagonist were lying, hung over the gorge,
and a portion of it, about twenty feet square, having, no doubt, been
loosened by their struggles, was sinking down into the abyss, carrying
with it Frank and the Indian, and also the tree which had served the
latter for a breast-work. Its motion was slow, almost imperceptible at
first, but it was gathering headway, and moving more rapidly every
instant. As quick as thought Frank was on his feet, and gathering
himself for a spring; but it was too late. The earth slid from beneath
him, and, like a drowning man grasping at straws, Frank clutched the
branches of the tree with a death-grip, and plunged with it into the
gorge. For an instant he descended with what seemed to him lightning
rapidity, and then the motion was suddenly checked--so suddenly, that
the branches were almost torn from his grasp--and he found himself
swinging in the air, twenty feet below the top of the precipice. The
tree was hanging with its head downward, but its roots were still
imbedded in the firm earth above; and that was all that had saved Frank
from destruction.
All this passed in much less time than we have taken to describe it, and
it may be imagined that Frank's mind was in a great whirl. When he
recovered himself sufficiently to understand his situation, he looked up
and saw the young Indian clinging to the roots of the tree, and
struggling to draw himself up to the firm ground above. He saw more: he
saw that with every effort the Indian made, he was loosening the roots
of the tree, and that one by one they were giving away. Forgetting, in
that moment of peril, that he and the young warrior had been engaged in
a desperate fight but a moment before, Frank, still hanging at arm's
length from the branches of the tree, with an abyss of unknown depth
below him, into which he was every instant expecting to be plunged by
the giving away of the roots above, addressed words of advice and
encouragement to the frightened savage.
"Take it easy, up there!" said he, coolly. "Don't thrash about so, for
you are only exhausting yourself, without doing any good. Take your
time, and you are all right."
But the Indian was too nearly overcome with fear, and too intent upon
extricating himself from his dangerous position, to heed the advice. He
struggled more desperately than ever, and finally, to Frank's immense
relief, succeeded in pulling himself over the roots, and crawling up to
the solid bank. Then his fear all vanished. He uttered a loud yell of
exultation, and bent over the precipice to look at Frank, who was coming
up through the branches hand over hand. He watched him for a moment,
and then disappeared from view; and when he came back to the brink of
the gorge, he carried his bow in his hand, with an arrow fitted to the
string, which he drew to its head, and pointed straight at Frank's
breast.
The young hunter was now menaced by another danger. He had escaped
falling into the gorge almost by a miracle, but it did not seem possible
that there was the least chance for escape this time. The Indian was
standing on the bank above him, and Frank could almost touch the steel
head of the arrow with his hand. He was completely at the mercy of his
foe, who surely could not miss so large a mark at that distance. His
bearing at that moment would have delighted Dick Lewis, could he have
seen him. He hung by his hands from the branches of the tree, looking
defiantly up into the Indian's face, and not a muscle quivered. The
young warrior was evidently astonished, for he lowered his bow, gazed
down at his helpless antagonist for a moment, and called out:
"White boy, you no afraid?"
"Shoot close," replied Frank, his voice as firm and steady as ever. "If
you miss, you are a goner."
Once more the arrow was drawn to its head, and pointed at Frank's heart;
but the Indian did not shoot. He looked up, as if alarmed by some
unusual sound, and then, to Frank's astonishment, dropped his bow, and
took to his heels. The young hunter could not imagine what had caused
his precipitate flight, and just then he did not care. Something had
befriended him by frightening the Indian away most opportunely, and
Frank improved the respite thus unexpectedly given him, by clasping his
legs around the body of the tree, and ascending quickly to the top of
the gorge. He did not know what new danger he might meet there, nor did
he give the matter a moment's thought. He would certainly have a much
better chance for life while standing on the solid ground, where he
could fight or run, as circumstances might require, than he had while
hanging suspended in the air over the brink of the gorge.
In a few seconds Frank was within reach of the roots of the tree, and
drawing in a long breath of relief, he pulled himself over them, and
looked cautiously over the top of the bank. Then he saw that the friend
who had rescued him from the arrow of the savage, was an enormous
grizzly bear, almost large and ugly enough to be a second Old Davy.
About fifty yards down the bank of the ravine stood a scrub pine; and in
its topmost branches sat the young warrior, looking down at his shaggy
foe, which was walking in a circle around the tree, now and then seating
himself on his haunches, and gazing up into it, as if trying to contrive
some plan to bring the Indian down to him.
"Hurra for you, grizzly," said Frank, to himself. "You have rendered me
a most valuable service; and that you may never feel a trapper's bullet,
or an Indian's arrow, is the sincere wish of, yours truly. Keep him up
there for an hour or two, and I'll just take his weapons, and make
myself scarce about here. I'll never forget this gully as long as I
live."
Frank crawled noiselessly upon the bank, picked up the bow, and the
quiver of arrows, possessed himself of the Indian's belt, which
contained his knife and tomahawk, and looked about for some means of
crossing the gorge without attracting the attention of the grizzly. That
was a matter that he need not have troubled himself about, for the
bear's quick ear had caught the sound of his footsteps, and, leaving the
tree, he turned to attack Frank. He came on at a rapid pace, uttering
hideous growls, and looking savage enough to frighten any body. He
certainly frightened Frank, who could see but one way of escape, and
that was to jump the gully. It was wider now than it was before, but he
had a chance for a running start, and he accomplished the feat in
safety, to the no small amazement of the Indian, who yelled at him with
all the strength of his lungs.
"I suppose you thought I was caught, didn't you?" exclaimed Frank.
"Well, I wasn't. I am all right yet; and now I will leave you in the
grizzly's company."
But Frank, as it happened, was not yet done with the bear. The animal
stopped when he saw that the boy had eluded him, and turned immediately,
and ran toward the tree which lay across the gully. Things began to
look dark again for the young hunter. If the bear were allowed to cross
the gorge, he would, of course, compel him to take refuge in a tree, and
there was no knowing how long he might keep him there. He could not
forget that there were more Indians not a great way off, and that they
had heard the young warrior's yells, and were hastening to his
assistance. The grizzly, although he had saved him from the fury of his
rival, might, after all, be the cause of his capture.
Frank saw the necessity of prompt action. His first thought was to try
an arrow on the bear; but he abandoned the idea when he reflected that
the bow was a weapon to which he was not accustomed, and that the
chances were not one in ten that his arrow would reach a vital part. The
grizzly was already half way across the gorge. The tree shook and bent
beneath his weight, and Frank hoped it would break; but he could not
afford to trust any thing to luck. He put it out of the animal's power
to cross to his side of the gully, and caused his destruction at the
same time, by seizing the tree with both hands, and lifting it from its
place, and pitching it over the precipice. It fell with a loud crash,
carrying with it the bear, which speedily disappeared from his view
among the bushes and rocks which covered the sides of the gorge.
Frank, scarcely waiting to see what had become of the grizzly, snatched
up the Indian's weapons, and flew down the mountain at the top of his
speed, fastening the belt around his waist, and slinging the quiver of
arrows over his shoulder as he ran. His mishaps at the gully had
consumed a good deal of valuable time, and Frank was now in momentary
expectation of hearing the reinforcements, who had been summoned by his
rival, bounding along his trail in pursuit. He could not hope to beat
full-grown Indian braves in a fair race, but he could, perhaps, elude
them, and this he resolved to attempt. He had often heard the trappers
describe the plans to which they resorted to throw pursuing Indians off
their trail, and the information he had gained from their stories was of
value to him now. He walked on every log he could find, jumped from
rock to rock, doubled on his trail, and finally he found himself on the
banks of a little trout-brook, the course of which he followed for two
or three miles, walking in the water all the way. Of course, as he paid
no attention to the points of the compass, he got completely bewildered;
and when he stepped out of the brook, and sat down on the bank to rest,
he did not know whether he had been traveling toward the fort or not, or
whether he was distant from it one mile or twenty. But that was a matter
that did not trouble him. He was satisfied that he had eluded pursuit
for the present, and he was also certain of another thing, and that was,
that he was very hungry. His first care must be to obtain something to
eat. That was not a difficult task, for there was a trout-brook at his
feet, and he had a fish-line, and a flint and steel in his pocket. In
half an hour's time a fire was burning brightly on the bank, three large
trout, supported on sticks driven into the ground, were roasting before
it, and Frank lay stretched out on the grass, watching the fish with a
hungry eye, and thinking over his adventures at the gully. He began to
be lonesome, and to long for companionship; and his wish was gratified
before he was many minutes older, for, when the fish were done to a
turn, and he was about to begin his meal, he was startled by the sound
of voices and footsteps. He listened intently for a moment, and finding
that the sounds grew louder, and that the intruders, whoever they were,
were approaching his camp, he caught up his bow and arrows, and darted
into the bushes. He had barely time to conceal himself before Black Bill
and Adam Brent emerged from a thicket on the opposite side of the brook.
The former stopped and looked about him suspiciously when he saw the
fire, and the fish roasting before it, and cocked his rifle, as if in
momentary expectation of discovering an enemy. A single glance at Adam's
face satisfied Frank that he was a prisoner, and not a willing companion
of the outlaw.
"Somebody has been campin' thar," said Black Bill; "but I reckon he
heered us, an' tuk himself off. We'll go over an' look at things, an'
see what's been goin' on."
The outlaw and his captive crossed the brook, and the former, after a
few minutes' examination of the ground about the fire, struck the butt
of his rifle with his fist, and opened his eyes in great amazement.
"It's the feller that run the foot-race yesterday, as sartin as I'm
alive," said he, in a tone of voice which indicated that he did not
understand the matter at all; "an' I'd like to know how he come here.
The last time I seed him he was a prisoner in the chief's lodge, an'
thar were two Injuns guardin' him. See them shoe-prints on the bank of
the brook? Thar's where he stood when he ketched them fish. An' here's
the pole he used, too. He was layin' on the grass beside that rock, an'
when he heered us comin', he run off."
"Which was a lucky thing for him," observed Adam.
"Wal, I don't reckon it will do him any good," replied the outlaw;
"'cause arter we eat these yere fish of his'n, we'll hunt him up. If we
don't find him, some of the Injuns will, most likely; an' even if he
aint ketched at all, how much better off is he than he would be with the
chief? Thar aint nothing left of Fort Stockton, an' he can't find no
friends short of Fort Benton, an' that's a good hundred miles from
here."
Frank was lying in the bushes, not more than twenty feet from the
outlaw, and distinctly heard every word of the conversation. The
information he gained from it destroyed his last hope. The savages had
made the attack upon the trading-post during the previous night, and it
had been successful. The soldiers and trappers were all massacred or
scattered to the four winds of heaven, and he had no friends to look to
for assistance within less than a hundred miles. The prospect before him
was certainly most discouraging, but he could not dwell upon it then,
for he had other matters to think of. He was in close proximity to a
dangerous enemy, and how was he to elude him? This question was answered
by the outlaw himself, whose actions suggested to Frank another daring
project, which he was prompt to carry into execution. Black Bill laid
his rifle upon the ground, and kneeled down beside the brook to drink.
Scarcely had he taken a swallow of the water, when he heard footsteps
behind him, and upon looking up saw Frank standing over him with his bow
in his hand, and an arrow pointed straight at his breast.
"Don't move hand or foot," said the young hunter, so excited that he
could scarcely speak. "Your game is up."
Adam was no less astonished at Frank's sudden appearance than was the
outlaw; but he quickly recovered his presence of mind, and catching up
his captor's rifle, leveled it full at his head.
"Surrender, Black Bill!" he exclaimed. "If you attempt to get up I'll
send a ball into you."
[Illustration: CAPTURE OF BLACK BILL BY FRANK AND ADAM BRENT]
The looks of the weapons were enough to frighten the outlaw into
submission. He made no remark, but it was easy enough to see that he was
not brave enough to think seriously of attempting resistance.
"Now, Adam," said Frank, "keep him covered with your rifle, and if he
shows fight, bang away. I'll soon put it out of his power to do any
mischief."
As Frank spoke he produced his fish-line from his pocket, and after
doubling it two or three times, passed it around the outlaw's wrists,
and tied it securely. The latter, at first, showed a disposition to be
ugly, and resisted Frank's efforts to bring his hands behind his back;
but the expression he saw on the face of Adam Brent, as he cocked the
rifle, and placed its cold muzzle against his temple, quickly brought
him to terms. Frank handled the fish-line skilfully, and in a few
minutes the outlaw was as helpless as though he had been in irons.
"There!" said Adam; "he is all right, and so am I. I feel a little more
at ease than I did ten minutes ago. What's to be done now?"
"The first think is breakfast," replied Frank. "Here are three
trout--one apiece; and although they are hardly enough to make a meal
for one hungry man, we can't catch any more, for my fish-line is in use.
Help yourself. I'll feed Black Bill, if he wants any thing to eat. By
the way, is this man what he claims to be?"
"I suppose he is my uncle," answered Adam; "but he doesn't act like it,
does he? He has kept me a prisoner for ten years; or, it amounts to the
same thing, for I could scarcely go out of the house, unless accompanied
by my father. That is the story I promised to tell you, and I will
relate it now while we are resting and eating our breakfast. Then I will
tell you what happened last night at the fort."
"Black Bill, if you want me to feed you, come here," said Frank.
"Chaw your own grub," was the gruff response.
"All right. If you get hungry before night, you will know who to blame."
The boys, leaving the outlaw sitting sullenly on the bank of the brook,
stretched themselves on the grass near the fire, with their weapons
close at their side, and Adam began his story.