The frontiersmen--those who were Buffalo Bill’s associates--mapped the
mountains and plains of the West long before Uncle Sam’s exploration
parties ever penetrated the wilderness. Cody had never been to this
hole in the mountainside before, yet he knew all about it. Hunters and
trappers--and some early gold-seekers--had told him of its existence.
It had been considered “bad medicine” by the Indians who inhabited
this section of the country before the Sioux had flowed over into the
land, and Oak Heart’s people themselves kept away from it. The scout
was pretty sure that they had a sufficiently strong fortress here to
withstand any ordinary attack.
Besides, there was spring water in the cave, and, as he showed Danforth
very quickly, something better still. As they advanced under the arched
roof of the cavern, light appeared ahead.
“There’s another opening,” said Danforth.
“Looks like it.”
“Why, they can get at us from two directions, Bill!”
“Can they?”
“You’re blamed cool about it.”
“Might as well be cool as hot. We have got to take it as it comes.”
The light grew apace.
“What kind of a place is this, anyway?” cried the lieutenant.
“Come along, sir!”
“But the horses----”
“Bring the horses along, too. I reckon I haven’t mistaken the place.
Here we are!”
As he spoke they came out into a roughly circular basin, surrounded
completely by steep--aye, unscalable--rocks, but well grown to grass
and bushes at the bottom. It was a veritable little pocket in the heart
of the mountain. There was no escape from it, and no getting into it,
excepting through the cave.
Chief kicked up his heels, snorted joyfully, and broke away from Cody’s
detaining hand. The other horses followed, and the whole herd set to
cropping the sweet grass in equine delight.
“Well, sir! This beats my time!” exclaimed Danforth.
“Guess we can stand a bit of a siege here, if necessary, eh?” queried
Cody.
“That we could.”
Fire-wood was cut and brought into the cave and the meal started. Cody
was not content to remain for long inactive, however. He slept while
the meal was being prepared. After he had eaten, however, he left the
camp, and in the gloaming made his way out and down into the valley
from which they had retired, on the lookout for the enemy.
The worst of it was, he did not exactly know whether their white or red
foes would be upon them first. The Sioux might attack--for they were
now well into the Indian country--or Boyd Bennett and his gang might
come back at them. If the latter, the troopers could handle the outlaws
easily. But a horde of savages might give the troops a mighty pretty
brush up here in the hills, so far away from reenforcements and a base
of supplies.
The scout was careful to leave no trace himself, and when he reached
the spot where the troopers had turned aside from the outlaw’s trail,
he hid and watched, and waited, to see what or who might “turn up.”
That it was about time for either the outlaws or the Indians to show
their hand Cody was sure.
His judgment was good in this case, too. He had not been lying in wait
an hour when he saw two mounted figures coming along the valley toward
his station. Dark as it was down here, he could make out their outlines
sufficiently to know that one was an Indian and the other was a white
man. They came to the point where the troopers had diverged from Boyd
Bennett’s trail, and there halted to whisper together.
From where he lay in the rocks, Cody could see the fire blazing in the
mouth of the cave up in the gorge. He knew the men below him could see
it, too. Writhing down the hill, like a serpent between the boulders,
the scout reached a point where he could overhear something of what the
Indian and the white man said.
“Return and bring them to this place. The hour must be no later than
midnight,” the white man was saying in a commanding manner.
“It shall be as my brother says,” the redskin muttered.
“My men will advance and draw their first fire--perhaps get them out of
the cave. You say there is no chance of getting in from the rear?”
“No Sioux would venture, if it were possible. That cavern was the abode
of a great spirit at one time.”
“Ha! Very well. Do as I have bid you. You and your braves hold back if
you must. But if we draw the badgers, we can count upon you to pitch
in?”
“It is as my brother says.”
“All right! Off with you. I await my men here.”
The redskin twitched his pony’s head about, and rode softly away.
After standing a moment in the path, the white man’s horse was turned
out upon a bit of sward, and Cody knew that the fellow dismounted.
He evidently proposed to remain near and watch the cave until
reenforcements arrived.
And Cody knew the scoundrel. He had recognized the voice, and likewise
by the fact that he held his left arm stiffly bound to his side, the
scout knew that it was Boyd Bennett himself. Dick Danforth had indeed
“stung” the robber. The bone of his left arm had been broken, and he
could barely hold the reins with that hand.
Buffalo Bill was greatly tempted. Here was a chance for him to take his
old enemy, single-handed. And did naught but personal vengeance enter
into the affair, he would have made the attempt. But there was a brave
opportunity of rounding up more of the gang, despite their affiliation
with the redskins, and Cody resisted the temptation.
He made his way back to the cave, found most of the troopers already
peacefully asleep, and Danforth anxiously awaiting his return.
“Well?” demanded the young lieutenant.
“We’re going to have visitors about midnight.”
“How’s that?”
“Mr. Bennett and his gang will make the attack; a set of thieving reds
will stand off to pitch in if the whites can’t handle us.”
“Gee, Cody! how d’you know all that?”
Buffalo Bill told him.
“Why didn’t you shoot the bloody thieves?”
“And lose the chance of rounding up more of them?”
“They’ll be too many for us, I fear,” said Danforth, although without
displaying any particular fear of such an outcome.
“They will certainly outnumber us--reds and all.”
“Nice prospect.”
“But forewarned is forearmed, eh?”
“Right you are, Bill! We have the advantage of knowing that they are
coming, whereas they will labor under the disadvantage of believing we
are unsuspicious.”
“Yes.”
“But hived up in this place----”
“We haven’t got to stay hived up,” interrupted the scout. “And we don’t
want to.”
“You’ve got a plan, Bill?”
“I have.”
“State it, old man. You know well enough you don’t have to stand on
ceremony with me.”
“This fire can be seen from below. Let it die down. Don’t let any fuel
be flung on for some time. When it’s at the lowest we can lead our
horses out without being seen.”
“Give up our shelter, Bill? And with a horde of redskins coming?”
“Sure. Let them attack an empty cave--but one that doesn’t look empty.
The last man to leave can fling a pile of fuel on the fire and then
slip away before it burns up brightly. So we’ll have ’em attacking an
empty fortress while we are out here among the rocks ready to play heck
with ’em!”
“I’m not afraid of the outlaws,” said Danforth slowly. “But the
redskins----”
“Won’t come too near the cave; it’s bad medicine, as I told you.”
“But when they see that we’re outside----”
“Wait! We’ll lead the horses away along the trail we came over, and
leave them in charge of one man. Then, when it gets too hot for us--if
the reds pitch in--we’ll decamp. The reds won’t be too near, however. I
know ’em. An Injun is as full of superstition as an egg is of meat.”
“Your plan looks good, Bill.”
“All right. Stop that fellow--quick! He’ll spoil it all.”
Danforth turned to see one of the guards advancing toward the fire with
an armful of fuel. The lieutenant ordered him to desist and instructed
his subordinate to let the fire die down. Then he and Cody rolled up in
their blankets for an hour’s sleep.