Why the madman had not sought to shoot him Buffalo Bill did not ask
at the moment. The fact that he was at such a disadvantage was enough
to fill his mind with forebodings. The rock was poised in the giant’s
hands just over his head, and, as the scout was more than knee-deep
in the water, it seemed impossible for him to successfully dodge the
missile if it were flung.
The madman stood in the shadow, and Cody could not see his face. All
he saw was that the man looked like a great, wet bear. He had swum or
waded across to the island with all his clothes on. He evidently knew
Bendigo Lake and its surroundings better than either of the scouts, and
had found a shallow path across from the mainland.
For several seconds the scout and the giant faced each other. Buffalo
Bill’s muscles grew tense. He would try leaping upon the fellow, at any
rate, although the possibility of his dodging the rock looked exceeding
small.
And then there suddenly flashed into his mind such a simple dodge for
getting the best of his foe that the scout hesitated to use it. It
seemed so exceedingly simple and childish. But the moments were flying,
and the Mad Hunter was on the point of flinging the rock down upon him
with terrific force.
Cody stood so that his hands just touched the water. He hollowed his
palms, swung both arms back, and suddenly scooped up the water and
flung it in a blinding sheet of spray into the maniac’s face.
Again and again he splashed the water over the fellow. The Mad Hunter
uttered a howl of rage, and, as Cody threw himself to one side, still
splashing the water, the rock was thrown. But the scout had destroyed
the maniac’s aim and escaped the missile altogether.
Cody could not land, however. The best he could do was to plunge back
into the deeper water and there dive and remain swimming under the
surface until he had placed the island between himself and the fire.
Here the trees threw black shadows, although the whole northern sky was
red as blood, and the flames danced wildly upon the tree tops on the
mainland.
The Mad Hunter had disappeared, yet the scout did not know whether
he had gone back to watch Texas Jack and the raft or was lurking in
the shadow, waiting to spy upon him again. Meanwhile he was becoming
thoroughly chilled, and feared to remain out beyond his depth, for a
cramp might take him, and he could never struggle ashore then.
Carefully he waded shoreward once more, watching the shadows beneath
the trees, fearing to see the bulk of the maniac burst out of the brush
and attack him again. There were several frightened creatures on the
island, but they cowered and were dumb. All the scout could hear was
the lapping of the water and the crackling of the conflagration on the
mainland.
The fire was eating through the forest very rapidly. It had reached the
shore and was passing swiftly around the entire lake. Cody and Texas
Jack could not return to the mainland now under any circumstances. It
was the island or drowning for them!
And Cody feared that his brave comrade had already succumbed to the
cold water, or mayhap to a bullet from the maniac’s rifle. The fire as
it ate around the lake began to illuminate this side of the island,
too, and he feared that he would soon be a shining mark for the Mad
Hunter.
He kept his body under water and crept in toward the shore, his head
only showing. He knew that he was taking his life in his hands, but the
water was chilling him to the bone.
Suddenly there was a great shouting on the other shore of the island,
and following it came the pop of a pistol several times. Cody leaped
ashore, and, despite the rough way and the thorns and brush which tore
his body, he dashed across the narrow bit of land. He knew Texas Jack
had landed and might need his help.
As he ran, however, he suddenly came full tilt against a great, hairy
object that was blundering through the brush. Over went the scout, and
with an angry “Woof!” the bear darted aside, and a moment later he
heard a splash in the lake, and knew that the creature had found the
presence of mankind on the island more fear-inspiring than the fire on
the mainland.
When Cody picked himself up he beheld the half-clothed figure of Texas
Jack standing over him.
“By the piper that played before Pharaoh!” ejaculated Texas. “What’s
the matter with you, Buffler? Come an’ git your clo’es--or do you fancy
parading around yere in your birthday suit?”
“What--what was that?” demanded the scout.
“A bear. I fell over him myself and drove him off.”
“I thought for a minute it was the madman.”
“Oh, he’s gone,” said Texas Jack. “He ran out of ammunition, I reckon,
and he took to the water, clo’es and all. There’s a shallow place
yonder. We can wade ashore that way, too, when the fire burns out.”
“He pretty near had me,” said Cody, and related his adventure as he
shakingly got into his clothing.
Texas Jack built a fire for them to dry and get warm by, and meanwhile
explained that, finding he could not keep the scouts off the island,
the Mad Hunter had departed for the mainland, approaching that part
where the fire had come nearest to burning itself out.
“It’s dangerous to go over there yet,” said Buffalo Bill.
“You can bet it is. But he reckoned he’d rather go than meet us closer
to. The old scoundrel! I’ve heard of his tricks and deviltry, but I
never happened to run up against him before.”
“I hope I never will again,” said Cody devoutly.
But he was doomed to meet the Mad Hunter again, and to learn that about
him that caused the Border King much sorrow of spirit.
The scouts remained on the island during the night, and late the next
day started out to find their mounts. There was a swamp several miles
away, and, knowing well the keen instinct of their horses, the scouts
went to it, and in less than twenty-four hours found both Chief and the
other, much mud-bespattered, but in good condition. And their arms,
though somewhat rusted, were safe.
The forest fire had burned over a large tract of country, had driven
away the game, and had cleared the territory of Indians. So the scouts
separated to follow the trails of different bands of reds and spot
their new villages. Their duty was to find and report upon every new
encampment of the redskins, that the department might keep tabs on the
movements of the savages.
Cody kept his eyes open for traces of the bandits, but during the
following week learned nothing of the movements of Boyd Bennett and his
gang.
He was thinking of going to a certain rendezvous where he expected to
join Texas Jack, when he came suddenly upon a spectacle in a little
valley that brought him up standing. So appalling--and unexpected--was
the scene that it seemed for the moment as though his heart stopped
beating!
Over a score of figures in blue lay in the little cup-shaped coulée,
where they had fallen battling for life!
There they lay, partly stripped of their uniforms in some cases, robbed
of their weapons, and lying amid their foes, hideous, painted savages,
whom their red companions, in their haste to fly from the fearful
scene, had not borne off to burial. Yet they had found time to tear the
scalp-lock from the head of each white man.
They lay in no order. The battle had been of the fiercest, and hand to
hand. Here a trooper; there another--a redskin, an officer, a chief,
a caparisoned steed, an Indian pony--all dead they lay and huddled
together by the riverside in the tiny valley.
Upon this scene Buffalo Bill came suddenly, just as the sun was about
to drop below the western hills. The sight shocked and sickened him.
Man of iron heart and steel nerves that he was, the sight made him reel
in his saddle. He reined in his good horse, until it rose upon its
haunches, and covered his eyes with one gauntleted hand as though to
shut out the awful sight.
An instant only did the scout show this weakness; then he scrutinized
the red field which had flashed like some horrid vision on his sight.
White-faced as the dead, with eyes which scrutinized each form and
feature of the white men, the scout counted the slain. Gradually his
own orbs flashed with the fires of rage, and his lips became livid and
quivering.
Suddenly, with a stifled cry, he leaped from his horse’s back and
strode to one figure that lay stark at one side. It was in contact with
a heap of slain on a knoll at the foot of a rock.
Here the end had evidently come. This spot was plainly the last act of
the fearful drama. Here the curtain of doom had fallen upon the remnant
of the gallant band, to rise no more for them in this life!
A groan issued from the scout’s lips, and he bowed his head in grief.
There, with face upturned, lying in an attitude that showed he had died
fighting to the last, lay Lieutenant Dick Danforth!
The boy’s left hand grasped the barrel of an empty revolver; he had
used it as a club at close quarters. The right held his sword-hilt, the
blade buried in the body of a painted chief, whose death was probably
the last act of the dying leader of the slaughtered troops.
About him lay the foe, piled in heaps. Dick Danforth had sold his life
at a dear price, indeed. And the fiends had run without scalping him!
“Danforth dead!” murmured the scout. “It cannot be possible.”
Yet it was true; he saw it plainly before he touched the already
stiffening body. Merely by some freak of circumstances the young man
had not been scalped.
“Devils’ work this!” muttered the scout. He glanced again over the
field. There were many points that had at first escaped his attention.
For instance, there were shod horses lying dead that had never been
ridden by either cavalrymen or Indian!
“Aye, Indians did the deed, but there is a paleface hand behind it,
and I mean to ferret out the fiend who inspired it,” said Buffalo Bill.
He dropped upon his knees again and felt of Danforth’s body. There, in
a voice quivering with sorrow and passion, he exclaimed:
“Aye! here beside the body of the man whom I loved--who saved me from
death--I swear revenge on the instigator of this crime!”
In his deep feeling he spoke these words aloud. A sound smote upon
his ear. He sprang to his feet with a cry and turned as a harsh voice
pealed out behind him:
“And _I_ swear, Buffalo Bill, that you shall never keep the oath your
lips have just uttered!”