The welcome that greeted the Border King upon his return to Fort
Advance was proof of his popularity, and of the admiration the garrison
held him in. That his coolness and wisdom had saved the paymaster’s
money-box from capture by the bandits, and so made it unnecessary for
the boys in blue to endure another long wait for their pay, added not a
little to their feeling for the scout.
The troopers had told the story in full. Captain Hinkley and his guard
had been buried, and the coach-driver, as well. The soldiers had a
most revengeful feeling toward Boyd Bennett and his outlaw band, and
Danforth went back to Resistence with his troop, threatening slaughter
for the road-agents if he could catch them.
The activities of the Indians, however, disturbed Buffalo Bill and the
commander of Fort Advance more than the work of the outlaw, at just
this time. The Border King, with Texas Jack, set out on a mission soon
after his return to the fort. Ten days later Lieutenant Danforth, with
a squadron of men, was allowed to make an attempt to bring in Boyd
Bennett by the commandant of Post Resistence.
Buffalo Bill was still away on his scouting expedition and did not know
of this. He was deep in the Indian country, and had found nothing of
real significance regarding any concerted movement among the Sioux,
although there was plenty of excitement. Little bands of warriors were
going back and forth, from encampment to encampment; but nothing was
being accomplished by the redskins.
“What does it look like to you, old man?” queried the Border King of
his partner. “Are we barking up the wrong tree?”
“Dunno,” replied Texas Jack, pursing up his lips and looking more
serious than usual. “There may be a coon in the crotch; but we
certainly haven’t shook him down.”
“How does all this running back and forth from teepee to teepee strike
you?”
“Looks like the reds was given more tuh society than us’al, Buffler.
But, Great Scott! you can’t never tell what’s in a red’s mind when he’s
planning some game.”
“There is surely no outbreak planned for the immediate future, eh?”
“No. These runners aren’t gathering the tribe. I reckon Oak Heart got
his belly full and won’t trouble us for some time.”
“But this new medicine-man they’ve got?”
“Humph! Death Killer, eh? Nice name that! I’d like a squint at him.”
“Me, too.”
“Wonder if we couldn’t sneak over to Oak Heart’s town and take this
Death Killer into camp?”
“Kidnap him?”
“Yep.”
“You’re a cool one, Jack, my boy. What’ll the reds be doing meanwhile?”
“That’s all that stops me--that question,” replied Texas, with a grin.
This conversation took place beside a running brook, in the heart of
a great forest many miles from Fort Advance, where our story first
opened. The wind soughed through the tree tops and brought scurrying
to earth the dying leaves which proclaimed the fast approach of King
Winter. Suddenly Cody rose upon his feet and keenly snuffed the air.
“What’s th’ matter, Bill? What d’yer scent?”
“I’ve been smelling it for an hour, Jack.”
“What is it?”
“Smoke.”
“Huh! here’s wood burning at your feet.”
“No, no!” exclaimed the other. “This breeze is rising and is blowing
more steadily than it did. And it brings the smoke to us. Look up
through the tree tops. D’ye see how hazy it’s grown?”
“Umph-ah!”
“Nothing to fool over, Jack. It’s a big fire.”
“D’yer believe so, Bill?”
“I do, indeed,” said the anxious scout.
Texas Jack cast his eyes about the forest aisles reflectively. He knew
as well as his companion the peril attending a forest fire; but he was
naturally of a more volatile character, and the discovery made less
impression upon him at first.
“We’d better make a break, hadn’t we, Bill?” he asked finally.
“Just think a bit, Jack,” the other replied. “Where’ll we go? Do you
realize that this crick is the biggest body of water in a circle of
forty miles?”
“If my hoss kin make Black River, yours kin, I reckon.”
“True enough. But the wind is blowing directly from Black River. That’s
where the fire is, old man. The nearest water of any size is Bendigo
Lake, and the going will be thundering hard on the horses.”
Texas Jack leaped up and exclaimed:
“Hark! what’s that?”
A crashing in the underbrush had startled both men. Some distance away
there burst into the glade a fine herd of deer, all running madly. They
swept across the scouts’ line of vision and disappeared in another
clump of brush, keenly alive to peril in their rear.
“They’ve come a power of a ways in the last half-hour, Jack,” said
Buffalo Bill.
“Right you are, Buffler. Guess we’d better light out. Ha! there goes a
grayback.”
A lone wolf slunk through the underbrush, gave the two men a sharp
look, and then loped away in the same direction as that followed by the
deer. But he was not running the deer--oh, no, indeed!
Soon other animals began to drift past the camp of the scouts. The two
packed their war-bags, caught their mounts, and prepared to leave the
vicinity in short order. By that time, although the evening was closing
in, the sky was a mass of ruddy, drifting haze. The fire was advancing
with terrific speed, yet it was still so far away that the smoke
floated high above the tree tops, and they heard no sound.
“Reckon we kin make it, Bill,” said Texas Jack, as they pricked their
mounts along the forest path.
Buffalo Bill was not so sanguine, however. The fire was coming down
upon them with terrific speed, for instead of deepening the evening
brightened all about them as they rode. The odor of burning wood was
now quite pungent, and past them in mad flight went all manner of small
animals, while now and then the startled “woof! woof!” of a bear was
heard in the brush as he, too, lumbered along.
The paths of the forest were not cleared for riding. Deer and other
animals, searching drinking-places and salt-licks, first made these
traces through the wilderness. The red man followed, following the
spoor of the game. And so the paths became “runways,” sometimes worn
knee-deep and only wide enough for a single person to pass. Such paths
were of little use to horsemen.
Where the forest was open or clear of underbrush, the two scouts could
travel with some rapidity; but in the thick, junglelike scrub, it was
even necessary at times to get down and lead their horses. This delayed
them, and before long the smoke wraiths began to drift past them and
the distant roaring of the flames was perceptible.
Had the men given the horses their heads the animals would have become
panic-stricken like the other dumb beasts, and they would have dashed
through the forest at a much better pace; but Buffalo Bill and Texas
Jack would have been swept from the saddles, and, perhaps, killed. It
began to look, indeed, as though both horses and men could get along
better and faster alone. Texas remarked upon this fact.
“I know it, Jack--I know it,” said Cody. “But I don’t want to lose
Chief. And then, we can’t carry all our plunder and make any time at
all.”
“Life’s sweeter to me than either hoss or rifle,” declared Texas,
laughing.
“Me, too; but it may be a week before we catch the brutes.”
“I vote we let ’em go. It’s getting derned hard to manage them, anyway,
Buffler.”
“So it is. Keep your grub, Texas.”
“Betcher!”
Both men were off their mounts in a hurry. They left their magazine
guns in the saddle scabbards, and their holster pistols as well. If the
Indians or any ne’er-do-well whites found the horses after the fire,
they would make quite a haul.
Jack’s horse plunged away, snorting to be free, and was quickly out of
sight; but Chief seemed uncertain whether to leave his master or not.
The scouts did not delay an instant, but started off at a sharp run
through the forest, with their packs on their backs. They could dodge
under the low branches and burst through the brush-clumps, or avoid
them altogether, with much more facility than before.
Chief ran whinnying after them. Suddenly out of the yellow haze above
the tree tops a blazing ball of leaves or such light flotsam, floated
down. It fell between the white horse and the two men, and Chief
snorted and leaped aside. Fortunately the firebrand went out without
igniting any of the leaves or twigs which rustled so dryly under foot,
but the flame evidently spoiled Chief’s desire to keep with the men. He
kicked up his heels and dashed away in the same direction as his mate.
Buffalo Bill and Texas Jack noted this brand, but they said nothing,
only increasing their speed. There was vast danger from these flying
balls of fire. The wind continued to rise, and soon the conflagration
would be leaping ahead rods at a time! It would ignite in dozens of
places at once.
As they ran together, Texas Jack glanced into his comrade’s serious
face, and a grin overspread his own.
“Say, Buffler,” he said, “I didn’t sleep none too warm last night.
Reckon we’ll be more comfortable to-night, eh?”
Cody had to smile at that.
“You reckless devil, you! You’d joke in sight of the fires of Tophet.”
At the moment a great burst of flame roared up into the sky from the
summit of a little hill behind them, and both men glanced back. The
banner of fire streamed clear across the sky.
“Gee, Bill! Tophet couldn’t look hotter than that,” declared Texas Jack.