BUFFALO BILL’S BOLD VENTURE.
The council of war which Lieutenant Walter Worth had said he would
hold that night in the camp near the secret crossing of the river,
where it was found that the outlaw had escaped across into the Indian
country, continued until late at night, the young officer, Surgeon
Denmead, the sergeant, and Buffalo Bill being the four present.
Talking the matter over, in the light of all the facts with which
they were acquainted, they were certain that Lucille had been
captured by the outlaw leader.
The letter which the outlaw had told the sergeant he would write to
entrap her had been sent, and so there was no doubt but that he had
been on hand to receive his prize.
The Indians had told the sergeant the last night he had crossed the
river that the outlaw had gone to Pioneer City by a secret ford.
That trail had been found where it had left the river, and the trail
where it had entered the river going back had also been discovered.
This proved that the outlaw had secured his captive and hastened with
her to the Indian camp.
To rescue her, then, was the question, and Sergeant Fallon at once
said:
“There is but one thing for me to do, and that is to put on my
disguise and go into the Indian village after her.”
“Yes, sergeant, and I will go with you,” said Buffalo Bill firmly.
“It would be madness for you to do so, Cody.”
“Oh, no, sergeant, for I would go as an ally, not to keep you
company. I would go on foot, not mounted.
“We can cross the river, and while you go down to the ford, I will go
over here.”
“You can proceed by the regular trail, while I will take it afoot to
the mountains, there make for the bald peak we can see, and there you
can find me, as I will look for you.
“Afoot, I can readily hide. I will leave no trail, and am afraid of
no redskins trapping me, for I have been within hailing distance of
their villages scores of times.”
“Pardon me, lieutenant, but do you think Mr. Cody should make the
venture?”
“No, sergeant, I do not.”
“Nor do I,” said the surgeon.
“See here, that young woman is a captive, and I tell you there should
be more than one to aid in her rescue.
“I know Indians from ’way back, and I’ll guarantee to go to their
village and return.
“You, in your disguise, are all right, sergeant, and you may be able
to help me escape with her, and come away yourself later.
“We can pick out certain points in the mountains which we can
discern, where we can meet, and I feel we can accomplish your
daughter’s rescue; yes, and get hold of that outlaw by some means
also, for I’ll not be happy until his chips are called in.
“I go, too, sergeant.”
“Well, Cody, I see you are determined, so I yield, for I have every
confidence in your powers to give the redskins the slip, but what are
we to do?”
“Stay right here, lieutenant, until we bring Miss Lucille back, for
we may need your support and need it bad.”
“All right. I will do as you suggest; but you and the sergeant
arrange your plans of action between you.”
“We will, sir, to-morrow.”
The next morning the scout and the sergeant went up on the range and
picked out half a dozen objects on the distant mountains across the
river, and agreed to make them points of rendezvous.
Then the sergeant said:
“Mr. Cody, I wish to confide in you.”
“Well, sergeant.”
“I have a brother who was a wild young fellow, and believed that
I had treacherously cheated him out of his ladylove, when I knew
nothing about his love for her, and she became my wife. She was not
Lucille’s mother, she being the daughter of my second wife.
“Now, my brother never forgave me, and some years after he committed
a crime of which I was accused, and it made an outcast, a fugitive of
me.
“He married and came West, and the other night when I looked into the
face of the man known as Eagle, the outlaw, I felt sure that he was
my brother.
“I have not seen my unfortunate brother for many years, but the face,
as I saw it by the flickering camp fire’s light, the voice, impressed
me that it was Loyd Lamar.
“Now, if he is my brother, he knows that Lucille is my daughter,
and that is a relief to my mind. If the outlaw is my brother, and I
would almost take oath that he is, I have but one request of you, and
that is to kill him, and not capture him to be taken to the fort and
hanged.”
“My dear sergeant, I had promised myself I would do that, on account
of his wife, and I will be that more anxious to save him from the
gallows now that he is suspected of being your brother,” was Buffalo
Bill’s reply.
That afternoon they started upon their perilous mission, Buffalo Bill
crossing the river at the spot where the camp was and the sergeant
riding down to the upper ford, to go over after dark and continue on
by the trail to the mountains.
But the sergeant in crossing came to grief, for there stood on the
other bank as sentinel a young brave who was striving to win a name
for himself.
He saw in the moonlight a horse and rider crossing the ford; so,
taking aim, the redskin fired, pulling trigger just as he discovered
that it was not a paleface but an Indian.
The sergeant felt a stinging pain in his shoulder, the blood began
to flow; he, therefore, turned back, fearing that he was seriously
wounded, and did not know why he had been fired on.
Fortunately Surgeon Denmead was there, and at once went to work on
him, remarking after a while:
“I have got the ball, Worth, and, with care, the wound will not be
fatal, though serious.”