CONCLUSION.
When Adam Brent saw the outlaw preparing to jump down upon him, he gave
himself up for lost. He was not able to defend himself from the assault
of that strong man, and neither did he expect assistance from any
source; and when he saw the panther spring from his hiding-place among
the rocks, and fall with Black Bill to the bottom of the cave, he was so
amazed and bewildered, that, for a moment, he could scarcely believe the
evidence of his eyes. He forgot Black Bill, and every thing else, in the
reflection that he had passed a portion of the night in the cavern with
that savage animal, and that he had slept while his glaring eyes were
fastened upon him. Regardless of being seen by the outlaws, he looked
over the bowlder, and watched the struggle that was going on below. He
had never witnessed so desperate a fight before, and, although he was
intensely alarmed, he retained his wits sufficiently to notice that the
panther was getting the best of it, and that he was in a fair way to
clear the cave of his enemies. The bullets which Black Bill's friends
had fired at him, if they had hit him at all, had only served to render
him more furious.
When Adam first looked over the bowlder, the combatants were tumbling
about on the ground, the men using their knives, and the panther
striking right and left with his claws, and growling fiercely. In a
moment the scene changed. Black Bill was lying motionless where he had
fallen; one of the outlaws, with his face terribly lacerated, was
rolling about, uttering piercing cries of pain and terror; the other,
who was the only one uninjured, was trying to climb up the sides of the
cave out of reach of his dangerous antagonist; and the panther was
crouching low on the ground, looking toward the passage-way, where stood
a couple of trappers who had entered unobserved.
"Send a chunk of lead into the critter, Dick; thar's my game," said Bob
Kelly, pointing toward the prostrate form of his old enemy.
The panther, lashing his sides with his tail, sprang into the air, but
was met half way by a bullet sent by an unerring hand, and fell dead
almost at the feet of the old trapper, who ran into the cave, and bent
over Black Bill's motionless figure; while Dick collared the uninjured
outlaw, and held him fast.
"We're too late, Dick," exclaimed Bob, after he had taken one glance at
his insensible foe. "I've waited an' watched fur him all these years to
be cheated at last by a painter. The critter's done the work fur him."
Dick's prisoner seemed astonished beyond measure at the sudden
appearance of the trappers. He never thought of resistance, but readily
surrendered his knife, and begged lustily for quarter. His captor looked
at him with an expression of great contempt on his honest countenance.
"You're a purty feller, to lead wild Injuns agin peaceable
tradin'-posts, an' then when you're ketched ask fur quarter, aint you?"
he exclaimed. "If me an' Bob were like we used to be, all your
hollerin' an' beggin' wouldn't do you no 'arthly good whatsomever; but
we lived among white folks a good while, an' we've larnt that thar is
law, even on the prairy, fur jest sich fellers as you. We'll take you to
Fort Benton, that's what we'll do with you, an' if you aint hung fur
your meanness, I shall allers think you'd oughter be. Hallo! Come down
from thar, you keerless feller!"
The trapper had discovered Adam looking at him over the top of the
bowlder. He thought it was Archie, and he was a good deal disappointed
when he found that it was not. He asked a good many questions concerning
the missing boy, but Adam knew nothing about him. Archie had left him
while he was sitting by the fire in the soldiers' quarters, running
bullets, and he had not seen him since.
"Never mind," said Dick; "he'll turn up all right yet. He's got a heap
of sense, that little feller has, an' grit, too; an' they'll bring him
safe out of any scrape he can get into. Now, where's Frank, I wonder?
The last time I seed him that hoss of his'n was carryin' him through
the ravine like a streak of lightnin'. It would take two or three sich
men as I be to watch that oneasy feller."
Dick shouldered his rifle, and hurried out in search of Frank, while
Bob, after binding the prisoner, busied himself in setting things to
rights. In half an hour the Old Bear's Hole presented a scene that was a
cheering one to our weary fugitives. The fire was burning brightly
again, the body of the outlaw had been removed, and all traces of the
fight which had taken place there but a few minutes before, were
concealed by the leaves which the old trapper had pulled out of the
lower passage-way and spread over the floor of the cave. Dick had
returned with Frank, who was so jubilant over his success that, for a
long time, he could talk about nothing else. He felt particularly proud
of the result of the race he had just run. Roderick had fairly
vanquished his swift rival, and Frank, after a protracted
rough-and-tumble fight, had overpowered and bound the Black Fox. The
young hunter now lay stretched out on the ground in front of the fire,
one hand supporting his head, and his eyes fastened upon his prisoner,
who sat sullenly in a remote corner of the cave. Adam lay near him,
watching the movements of the trappers, one of whom was engaged in
cutting up the elk, and the other in superintending the broiling of
several steaks, which he had placed on the coals. In the corner,
opposite the entrance, sat the outlaws--the remnant of Black Bill's
band. The one who had been wounded during his fight with the panther,
was too severely injured, and too thoroughly cowed by the presence of
the trappers, to attempt escape, and consequently he was not confined;
but the others were bound hand and foot.
"Things are comin' out all right at last, aint they?" said Dick, turning
the steaks with his knife. "If I could only see Archie settin' somewhere
about this fire, an' could hear him laughin' an' goin' on like he allers
does, I should be jest as happy as I want to be. A good many of the
fellers that left the Colorado with us we'll never see agin, but I'll
bet a hoss that we will find every one of our crowd at Fort Benton, when
we get thar. I come out without a scratch, an' so did Frank an' Adam;
Bob, here, has got a hole in his head, made by a tomahawk, an' another
in his arm, made by a bullet; but he's as sassy and full of fight as
ever."
"Did you recognize Bob when he was playing the part of medicine-man?"
asked Frank.
"Sartin I did. I've knowed the ole feller since I was a boy no bigger
nor you, an' I've seed him when he looked wusser nor he did in that
doctor's dress. I knowed I was safe the minute I seed him come into the
village."
"How did you obtain possession of that disguise?" inquired Frank,
turning to the old trapper.
"Easy enough. Arter Dick was captured, I hung around the camp in the
edge of the woods, waitin' fur a chance to do something fur him. I
happened to meet the medicine-man, an', thinkin' that I could make
better use of his rig nor he could, I jest knocked him over."
The supper, which Dick now pronounced ready, did not put a stop to the
conversation, for there was much to talk about. Adam told what had
happened at the cave during Frank's absence, and the latter described
his adventures, from his unsuccessful attempt to liberate his cousin
down to the time he met the trappers in the ravine. Dick and Bob were
astonished at the reckless courage he had exhibited. The former, as
usual, called him a "keerless feller," and Bob declared that he would
make a trapper "wuth lookin' at." Then Dick told how he had seen Bob
captured while they were cutting their way out of the fort, and how he
had gone into the camp in the disguise of a wounded Indian to assist him
in making his escape. When he liberated Archie, however, he found that
Bob had already eluded his enemies; and, after wandering about the camp
until he found a rifle which he could take possession of without
attracting attention, he returned to his horse, which he had left hidden
in the bushes, and soon overtook his chum, who was on his way to the Old
Bear's Hole.
When the boys had satisfied their appetites, they lay down on the leaves
and went to sleep, while Dick set out in search of Archie, leaving Bob
to watch the boys and the prisoners during his absence. He was gone all
day, and when he returned he was not as hopeful as when he left in the
morning. He had met no Indians, he reported, but he had seen the ruins
of a wagon train, which had been attacked and burned. If Archie was with
that train, the probabilities were that they would never see him again.
After another hearty meal on venison, the fugitives set out for Fort
Benton, accompanied by their four prisoners--the trappers on foot, and
the boys and the wounded outlaw riding the horses. They traveled all
that night, and at noon the next day arrived within sight of the walls
of the fort. The very first person they saw was Archie Winters, who
galloped out on the chestnut-sorrel, swinging his hat around his head,
and shouting like one demented.
"Not one of our crowd is missing now," he yelled, when he had embraced
his cousin and Adam, and shaken the trappers warmly by the hand.
"Captain Porter and Mr. Brent came in last night. As I live, there's my
horse, which I never expected to see again. And isn't that Pete? Hurrah
for every body! except the Indians and the outlaws."
Almost the first thing the cousins discussed was the race between
Roderick and King James. Archie listened attentively to his cousin's
story, and when it was concluded he said, in a tone of voice which
showed very plainly that he was not yet willing to give up beaten:
"The speed of a horse depends a good deal upon the driver. I know that
the Black Fox was riding for his liberty, but I don't believe he made
King James run as swiftly as I could, if I had been on his back. But,
since you were kind enough to recapture the horse for me, I will settle
the matter by riding a race with you at the very first opportunity--that
is, if you say so."
"Of course I say so," replied Frank. "Archie, you do crawl out of little
holes when you are cornered, don't you? I'll beat you so badly that you
will never boast of your horse's speed again."
Although the boys were very jubilant, and often congratulated one
another on the good fortune that had attended their "crowd," they still
had much to be sorry for. Of the twenty trappers who had accompanied
them across the plains from Fort Yuma, only seven remained. More than
one brave fellow mourned the loss of his chum, who had fallen by the
hands of the Indians, and the boys heartily sympathized with them, one
and all. But still the expedition was not abandoned, and neither was the
departure from the fort long delayed. After a consultation with the
trappers, Captain Porter decided to pass the winter on the Saskatchewan;
and the morning of the third day after their arrival at the fort, found
the cousins ready for the journey. Archie took leave of the invalid,
who, to show his gratitude for the services the boy had rendered,
offered him half his twenty thousand dollars; and when Archie declined
to accept, he insisted on presenting him with his horse and rifle. The
expedition was as well equipped now as when it left the Colorado, for
the captain had procured a supply of weapons, traps, pack-mules, and
provisions from a trader who happened to be at the fort.
"Good-by, Adam," said Frank, who stood with one hand clasping his
friend's, and the other holding the impatient Roderick by the bridle.
"We have seen some stirring times during our short acquaintance, and you
will not be likely to forgot us soon, will you?"
"I'll never forget you," replied Adam, earnestly. "If it hadn't been for
you, Frank, I should now be a prisoner in the hands of the outlaws. I
tell you, fellows, my ideas concerning boys from the States have changed
wonderfully since I first met you. You can both beat me riding and
shooting, and you take to the mountains as naturally as though you had
been born here."
When the farewells had been said, Adam returned slowly and sorrowfully
to his quarters in the fort, and the cousins galloped after the
trappers, who had already disappeared behind the distant swells.
The adventures we have attempted to describe in this volume form but a
small portion of the history of the life Frank and Archie led while they
remained with Captain Porter. If space would allow, we might tell of
many interesting events that happened during the winter they passed upon
the banks of the Saskatchewan. We might describe the races which came
off between the rival horses, in every one of which the gallant little
black was as badly beaten as ever Sleepy Sam had been. Although Archie,
at first, found any number of "little holes to crawl out of," he was
finally obliged to confess that Roderick was the swifter horse. We might
tell of the rivalry which existed between the boys, and which seemed to
grow stronger every day, affording infinite amusement to the trappers,
who praised first one, and then the other, to incite them to greater
deeds of valor; how Frank took the lead by killing a grizzly bear, alone
and unaided, and Archie, to be even with him, nearly broke King James's
neck, and his own into the bargain, by attempting to capture a wild
horse. That was a proud day for Archie, for he actually succeeded in
lassoing one of the drove; but, unfortunately, the lariat was insecurely
fastened to his saddle, and the wild steed made his escape after all,
carrying the lasso with him. All the trappers voted that this exploit
was fully equal to the killing of a grizzly, and that, if Frank wished
to take the lead again, he must trap or shoot another bear. We might
recount the adventures that befell them during the two weeks they were
lost in the mountains, living in a little hut they had built under the
shelter of a friendly cliff, which effectually protected them from the
fury of the snow-storms--enjoying splendid shooting in the meantime, and
experiencing not a single fear but that "every thing would come out all
right" in the end. We might tell of the long winter evenings they passed
listening to the trappers' stories; and of the days, too, when they
never stirred out of the cabin, because they were snowed under and could
not get out. This was the poetry of the life they led during that
long-to-be-remembered winter, and then came the prose. Their provisions
gradually disappeared; game became scarce; the snow filled up the
mountain passes to the depth of forty feet, and covered all their traps;
their horses and mules were killed and eaten, and finally but one single
horse remained besides Roderick and King James, and that was Pete. His
time came at last, and then the cousins looked at one another with a
most doleful expression on their hunger-pinched faces.
"It can't be helped, boys," said Captain Porter. "We must live, and one
horse is about as good as another, any how. I have twenty-five hundred
of them on my rancho, and when we get home you can take your pick of the
lot."
"Do you suppose I could ever find a horse that would suit me as well as
King James?" whispered Archie, drawing the captain off on one side. "No,
I couldn't; but take him and save Roderick, if you can. Frank thinks so
much of that horse I shouldn't like to see him killed."
Frank saw the whispered conversation going on, and, suspecting something
at once, took Dick into his confidence. "I know what they are talking
about," said he, "and I am not going to have any one make sacrifices for
me. When you get up in the morning, go out and shoot Roderick. It would
be a severe blow to Archie to lose his horse, and I will prevent it as
long as I can."
The trappers, knowing how hard it would be for the boys to part with
their favorites, hunted all that day without any food at all; and when
they returned to the camp that night, they brought four big-horns and
an elk. That hunt saved the lives of the horses, for, in a day or two,
the snow began to melt, game became more abundant, and things looked
bright again. It had been a narrow escape for their favorites, however,
and the boys, fearing that they might again be placed in the same
situation, became impatient to begin the homeward journey. Besides, they
had seen quite enough of perilous adventure, were heartily tired of life
in the mountains, and longed for the society of their friends once more.
To their great delight, their departure from the Saskatchewan was not
long delayed. One bright, spring morning, they started for Fort
Churchill, where the captain procured a supply of horses and pack-mules,
and, after a fatiguing ride of nearly two months, the cousins found
themselves once more in Uncle James's rancho. They met new faces there,
for Mr. Winters had sold his farm and stock, and the purchaser had taken
possession of the premises.
There was nothing now to detain them in California, and after a few days
spent in taking leave of their acquaintances--they found it an
exceedingly difficult task to say good-by to Dick and Bob--the cousins
took passage on board a steamer for Portland. In four weeks more the
little cottage on the banks of Glen's Creek was filled with a happy
party, including Archie's father and mother, and Uncle James. Things
began to wear their old accustomed look again. The Speedwell once more
rode proudly at her moorings in the creek (her sailing qualities had not
been injured in the least by her fourteen months of idleness, and she
was still able to beat the swiftest boat about the village), the door of
the museum was open every day, and there was plenty of work being done
there. A stand had been erected in the middle of the room, and it was
already filled with specimens which excited the wonder and admiration of
the village boys. "Old Davy" was there, stuffed and mounted, and looking
so life-like that Archie said he almost expected to see him jump down
from the stand and come at him. Then there were three smaller grizzlies,
two elk, as many Rocky Mountain goats, and the prong-horn they had
killed on the day they were lost on the prairie.
In Frank's room some changes had been made. There were more pictures on
the walls now, and among them was the identical one which Pierre
Castello had removed from its hook on the night he tried to compel Frank
to tell where he had hidden the office key. The picture was hanging from
the same hook over which the Ranchero had thrown the lasso when he
pulled Frank up by the neck, and the lasso itself was there also--or,
rather, all there was left of it. The "sporting cabinet," which hung on
the frame at the foot of the bed, had received several additions in the
shape of rifles, revolvers, and hunting-knives; and the hooks at the top
of the frame supported the bow, quiver of arrows, and tomahawk which
Frank had captured from the Black Fox. An apartment in the book-case,
which contained the stuffed birds, was devoted to the other relics which
the boys had collected during their absence. There were knives, pistols,
and carbines from Don Carlos' rancho; a piece of the "bridge of clouds,"
at which the trappers had been so badly frightened; a portion of the
flat-boat which had carried the horses across the creek; and also the
lantern which Archie had used in the stable. There were stone arrow and
spear heads, and necklaces of bears' claws from Fort Benton; elk horns
from the Saskatchewan; and Mexican dresses, spurs, lassos, and a saddle
and bridle from Southern California. In short, the room was almost as
much of a curiosity-shop as the museum itself.
The barn had two more occupants now, and they were Roderick and King
James. The horses had been so intimately connected with their adventures
on the plains and in the mountains, and the boys had become so greatly
attached to them, that they could not think of leaving them behind. They
were plump and fat now, looking very unlike the poor, scraggy animals
which had so narrowly escaped being served up at the camp fire, and many
a pleasant morning gallop had the boys taken with them over the breezy
hills with which Lawrence was surrounded.
Frank had brought another old friend with him, and that was Marmion.
Brave at first regarded the new-comer with suspicion; but being, like
his master, of a kind and accommodating disposition, he made overtures
of friendship, to which the ill-mannered Marmion responded by taking
Brave down and giving him a good shaking. But the Newfoundland was like
his master in another respect: he was hard to whip; and, before the boys
could separate the combatants, he gave his fierce antagonist a drubbing
that must have astonished him. At any rate, Marmion howled lustily for
quarter, and the next time Brave made advances, they were more
graciously received. The dogs were now living very peaceably, Brave
occupying his kennel by the back porch, and Marmion sleeping in the
barn. They ate out of the same dish, without any quarreling over the
tit-bits, always accompanied their master wherever he went, and if one
got into trouble with the village curs, the other always lent prompt and
effective assistance.
The cousins had not forgotten the quiet sports they had so often enjoyed
in the days gone by. Their fishing-rods and double-barrels came as
readily to their hands as ever; squirrels and trout were served up at
the cottage every day; and to many a thrilling story did George and
Harry Butler listen while sailing up and down the river in the old
Speedwell. On all the adventures of which Frank and Archie had been the
heroes during their journeyings in the Far West, they delighted most to
talk about those which befell them on the memorable night they spent IN
THE MOUNTAINS.
THE END.
* * * * *
Interesting and Attractive Works
BY HARRY CASTLEMON.
_THE GUN-BOAT SERIES._
FRANK, THE YOUNG NATURALIST
FRANK IN THE WOODS
FRANK ON THE PRAIRIE
FRANK ON A GUN-BOAT
FRANK BEFORE VICKSBURG
FRANK ON THE LOWER MISSISSIPPI
_THE GO-AHEAD SERIES._
TOM NEWCOMBE
GO AHEAD
NO MOSS
End of Project Gutenberg's Frank in the Mountains, by Harry Castlemon