CHAPTER VIII.
FRANK'S FRIEND, THE GRIZZLY.
The young Indian was evidently very much surprised at the result of hisshot. He stood for a moment as if petrified, looking at the prostrateform across the gorge, and then slowly and cautiously stepped out of thebushes to take a nearer view. He shaded his eyes with his hand, twistedhimself into all sorts of shapes, ran up and down the bank, and lookedat the motionless figure from a dozen different positions, and havingsatisfied himself at last that his enemy was really dead, he placed hishand to his mouth, and uttered a series of hideous yells, that once moreawoke the echoes far and near.
His next move was to cross the gorge. He could not jump it, as Frank haddone, and so was obliged to make use of the tree. It trembled andcracked beneath his weight, but he crossed it in safety, and bendingover the young hunter, twisted his hand in his hair and yelledfuriously. He held this position but an instant. He looked for the woundmade by the arrow, but could not find it. He _felt_ something, however,and that was a very slight pull at his belt, as four sinewy fingers werecarefully inserted beneath it. With a cry of terror he sprang to hisfeet, and Frank arose with him--unharmed, save a slight red mark acrosshis forehead, and as full of fight as ever. Before the young Indiancould fully comprehend the trick that had been played upon him, hiscries for help were stifled by a strong grasp on his throat, and he wasthrown flat upon his back, with his head hanging over the brink of theprecipice.
"Now, red skin, I'll show you how easily I can handle you," exclaimedFrank. "I was only playing with you this morning, but now I am inearnest. Keep perfectly still, or I'll pitch you into the gully."
Frank, as we have said, was greatly alarmed when he found that theIndian had been calling for assistance, and that his shouts hadelicited a response from some of his friends. He had no fears but thathe could hold his ground against one Indian, armed with a bow and arrow,but suppose that the reinforcements who were coming up were full-grownIndians, and supplied with rifles? He must escape from there before theyarrived; and the only way that he could discover to accomplish this, wasto contrive some plan to induce his antagonist to cross the gorge. If hecould bring him to close quarters, and could get hold of him before hehad an opportunity to draw his knife or tomahawk, he was sure that hewould have nothing to fear; but he dared not leave his tree while hisenemy held his position on the opposite side of the gully, for he wouldsend his arrows about him like hail-stones.
All these thoughts passed through Frank's mind in an instant of time;and when the savage discharged his last arrow at him--it passed so closeto him that it left a mark across his forehead--he staggered and fell,as if he had been mortally wounded. That was his plan for bringing hisenemy across the gorge, and we have seen how it succeeded. His designnow was to disarm the savage, tie him to a tree, and then take to hisheels, and leave the gully as far behind as possible, before thereinforcements arrived.
"I'm all right yet, you see," said Frank, holding his antagonist downwith one hand, and with the other unfastening the belt in which hecarried his knife and tomahawk. "If you live a few years longer, youwill learn that an Indian never gets smart enough to outwit a white man.Now----"
Frank did not finish the sentence, for just then he happened to look up,and saw a sight that drove all thoughts of the Indian out of his mind.The bank on which he and his antagonist were lying, hung over the gorge,and a portion of it, about twenty feet square, having, no doubt, beenloosened by their struggles, was sinking down into the abyss, carryingwith it Frank and the Indian, and also the tree which had served thelatter for a breast-work. Its motion was slow, almost imperceptible atfirst, but it was gathering headway, and moving more rapidly everyinstant. As quick as thought Frank was on his feet, and gatheringhimself for a spring; but it was too late. The earth slid from beneathhim, and, like a drowning man grasping at straws, Frank clutched thebranches of the tree with a death-grip, and plunged with it into thegorge. For an instant he descended with what seemed to him lightningrapidity, and then the motion was suddenly checked--so suddenly, thatthe branches were almost torn from his grasp--and he found himselfswinging in the air, twenty feet below the top of the precipice. Thetree was hanging with its head downward, but its roots were stillimbedded in the firm earth above; and that was all that had saved Frankfrom destruction.
All this passed in much less time than we have taken to describe it, andit may be imagined that Frank's mind was in a great whirl. When herecovered himself sufficiently to understand his situation, he looked upand saw the young Indian clinging to the roots of the tree, andstruggling to draw himself up to the firm ground above. He saw more: hesaw that with every effort the Indian made, he was loosening the rootsof the tree, and that one by one they were giving away. Forgetting, inthat moment of peril, that he and the young warrior had been engaged ina desperate fight but a moment before, Frank, still hanging at arm'slength from the branches of the tree, with an abyss of unknown depthbelow him, into which he was every instant expecting to be plunged bythe giving away of the roots above, addressed words of advice andencouragement to the frightened savage.
"Take it easy, up there!" said he, coolly. "Don't thrash about so, foryou are only exhausting yourself, without doing any good. Take yourtime, and you are all right."
But the Indian was too nearly overcome with fear, and too intent uponextricating himself from his dangerous position, to heed the advice. Hestruggled more desperately than ever, and finally, to Frank's immenserelief, succeeded in pulling himself over the roots, and crawling up tothe solid bank. Then his fear all vanished. He uttered a loud yell ofexultation, and bent over the precipice to look at Frank, who was comingup through the branches hand over hand. He watched him for a moment,and then disappeared from view; and when he came back to the brink ofthe gorge, he carried his bow in his hand, with an arrow fitted to thestring, which he drew to its head, and pointed straight at Frank'sbreast.
The young hunter was now menaced by another danger. He had escapedfalling into the gorge almost by a miracle, but it did not seem possiblethat there was the least chance for escape this time. The Indian wasstanding on the bank above him, and Frank could almost touch the steelhead of the arrow with his hand. He was completely at the mercy of hisfoe, who surely could not miss so large a mark at that distance. Hisbearing at that moment would have delighted Dick Lewis, could he haveseen him. He hung by his hands from the branches of the tree, lookingdefiantly up into the Indian's face, and not a muscle quivered. Theyoung warrior was evidently astonished, for he lowered his bow, gazeddown at his helpless antagonist for a moment, and called out:
"White boy, you no afraid?"
"Shoot close," replied Frank, his voice as firm and steady as ever. "Ifyou miss, you are a goner."
Once more the arrow was drawn to its head, and pointed at Frank's heart;but the Indian did not shoot. He looked up, as if alarmed by someunusual sound, and then, to Frank's astonishment, dropped his bow, andtook to his heels. The young hunter could not imagine what had causedhis precipitate flight, and just then he did not care. Something hadbefriended him by frightening the Indian away most opportunely, andFrank improved the respite thus unexpectedly given him, by clasping hislegs around the body of the tree, and ascending quickly to the top ofthe gorge. He did not know what new danger he might meet there, nor didhe give the matter a moment's thought. He would certainly have a muchbetter chance for life while standing on the solid ground, where hecould fight or run, as circumstances might require, than he had whilehanging suspended in the air over the brink of the gorge.
In a few seconds Frank was within reach of the roots of the tree, anddrawing in a long breath of relief, he pulled himself over them, andlooked cautiously over the top of the bank. Then he saw that the friendwho had rescued him from the arrow of the savage, was an enormousgrizzly bear, almost large and ugly enough to be a second Old Davy.About fifty yards down the bank of the ravine stood a scrub pine; and inits topmost branches sat the young warrior, looking down at his shaggyfoe, which was walking in a
circle around the tree, now and then seatinghimself on his haunches, and gazing up into it, as if trying to contrivesome plan to bring the Indian down to him.
"Hurra for you, grizzly," said Frank, to himself. "You have rendered mea most valuable service; and that you may never feel a trapper's bullet,or an Indian's arrow, is the sincere wish of, yours truly. Keep him upthere for an hour or two, and I'll just take his weapons, and makemyself scarce about here. I'll never forget this gully as long as Ilive."
Frank crawled noiselessly upon the bank, picked up the bow, and thequiver of arrows, possessed himself of the Indian's belt, whichcontained his knife and tomahawk, and looked about for some means ofcrossing the gorge without attracting the attention of the grizzly. Thatwas a matter that he need not have troubled himself about, for thebear's quick ear had caught the sound of his footsteps, and, leaving thetree, he turned to attack Frank. He came on at a rapid pace, utteringhideous growls, and looking savage enough to frighten any body. Hecertainly frightened Frank, who could see but one way of escape, andthat was to jump the gully. It was wider now than it was before, but hehad a chance for a running start, and he accomplished the feat insafety, to the no small amazement of the Indian, who yelled at him withall the strength of his lungs.
"I suppose you thought I was caught, didn't you?" exclaimed Frank."Well, I wasn't. I am all right yet; and now I will leave you in thegrizzly's company."
But Frank, as it happened, was not yet done with the bear. The animalstopped when he saw that the boy had eluded him, and turned immediately,and ran toward the tree which lay across the gully. Things began tolook dark again for the young hunter. If the bear were allowed to crossthe gorge, he would, of course, compel him to take refuge in a tree, andthere was no knowing how long he might keep him there. He could notforget that there were more Indians not a great way off, and that theyhad heard the young warrior's yells, and were hastening to hisassistance. The grizzly, although he had saved him from the fury of hisrival, might, after all, be the cause of his capture.
Frank saw the necessity of prompt action. His first thought was to tryan arrow on the bear; but he abandoned the idea when he reflected thatthe bow was a weapon to which he was not accustomed, and that thechances were not one in ten that his arrow would reach a vital part. Thegrizzly was already half way across the gorge. The tree shook and bentbeneath his weight, and Frank hoped it would break; but he could notafford to trust any thing to luck. He put it out of the animal's powerto cross to his side of the gully, and caused his destruction at thesame time, by seizing the tree with both hands, and lifting it from itsplace, and pitching it over the precipice. It fell with a loud crash,carrying with it the bear, which speedily disappeared from his viewamong the bushes and rocks which covered the sides of the gorge.
Frank, scarcely waiting to see what had become of the grizzly, snatchedup the Indian's weapons, and flew down the mountain at the top of hisspeed, fastening the belt around his waist, and slinging the quiver ofarrows over his shoulder as he ran. His mishaps at the gully hadconsumed a good deal of valuable time, and Frank was now in momentaryexpectation of hearing the reinforcements, who had been summoned by hisrival, bounding along his trail in pursuit. He could not hope to beatfull-grown Indian braves in a fair race, but he could, perhaps, eludethem, and this he resolved to attempt. He had often heard the trappersdescribe the plans to which they resorted to throw pursuing Indians offtheir trail, and the information he had gained from their stories was ofvalue to him now. He walked on every log he could find, jumped fromrock to rock, doubled on his trail, and finally he found himself on thebanks of a little trout-brook, the course of which he followed for twoor three miles, walking in the water all the way. Of course, as he paidno attention to the points of the compass, he got completely bewildered;and when he stepped out of the brook, and sat down on the bank to rest,he did not know whether he had been traveling toward the fort or not, orwhether he was distant from it one mile or twenty. But that was a matterthat did not trouble him. He was satisfied that he had eluded pursuitfor the present, and he was also certain of another thing, and that was,that he was very hungry. His first care must be to obtain something toeat. That was not a difficult task, for there was a trout-brook at hisfeet, and he had a fish-line, and a flint and steel in his pocket. Inhalf an hour's time a fire was burning brightly on the bank, three largetrout, supported on sticks driven into the ground, were roasting beforeit, and Frank lay stretched out on the grass, watching the fish with ahungry eye, and thinking over his adventures at the gully. He began tobe lonesome, and to long for companionship; and his wish was gratifiedbefore he was many minutes older, for, when the fish were done to aturn, and he was about to begin his meal, he was startled by the soundof voices and footsteps. He listened intently for a moment, and findingthat the sounds grew louder, and that the intruders, whoever they were,were approaching his camp, he caught up his bow and arrows, and dartedinto the bushes. He had barely time to conceal himself before Black Billand Adam Brent emerged from a thicket on the opposite side of the brook.The former stopped and looked about him suspiciously when he saw thefire, and the fish roasting before it, and cocked his rifle, as if inmomentary expectation of discovering an enemy. A single glance at Adam'sface satisfied Frank that he was a prisoner, and not a willing companionof the outlaw.
"Somebody has been campin' thar," said Black Bill; "but I reckon heheered us, an' tuk himself off. We'll go over an' look at things, an'see what's been goin' on."
The outlaw and his captive crossed the brook, and the former, after afew minutes' examination of the ground about the fire, struck the buttof his rifle with his fist, and opened his eyes in great amazement.
"It's the feller that run the foot-race yesterday, as sartin as I'malive," said he, in a tone of voice which indicated that he did notunderstand the matter at all; "an' I'd like to know how he come here.The last time I seed him he was a prisoner in the chief's lodge, an'thar were two Injuns guardin' him. See them shoe-prints on the bank ofthe brook? Thar's where he stood when he ketched them fish. An' here'sthe pole he used, too. He was layin' on the grass beside that rock, an'when he heered us comin', he run off."
"Which was a lucky thing for him," observed Adam.
"Wal, I don't reckon it will do him any good," replied the outlaw;"'cause arter we eat these yere fish of his'n, we'll hunt him up. If wedon't find him, some of the Injuns will, most likely; an' even if heaint ketched at all, how much better off is he than he would be with thechief? Thar aint nothing left of Fort Stockton, an' he can't find nofriends short of Fort Benton, an' that's a good hundred miles fromhere."
Frank was lying in the bushes, not more than twenty feet from theoutlaw, and distinctly heard every word of the conversation. Theinformation he gained from it destroyed his last hope. The savages hadmade the attack upon the trading-post during the previous night, and ithad been successful. The soldiers and trappers were all massacred orscattered to the four winds of heaven, and he had no friends to look tofor assistance within less than a hundred miles. The prospect before himwas certainly most discouraging, but he could not dwell upon it then,for he had other matters to think of. He was in close proximity to adangerous enemy, and how was he to elude him? This question was answeredby the outlaw himself, whose actions suggested to Frank another daringproject, which he was prompt to carry into execution. Black Bill laidhis rifle upon the ground, and kneeled down beside the brook to drink.Scarcely had he taken a swallow of the water, when he heard footstepsbehind him, and upon looking up saw Frank standing over him with his bowin his hand, and an arrow pointed straight at his breast.
"Don't move hand or foot," said the young hunter, so excited that hecould scarcely speak. "Your game is up."
Adam was no less astonished at Frank's sudden appearance than was theoutlaw; but he quickly recovered his presence of mind, and catching uphis captor's rifle, leveled it full at his head.
"Surrender, Black Bill!" he exclaimed. "If you attempt to get up I'llsend a ball into you."
CAPTURE OF
BLACK BILL BY FRANK AND ADAM BRENT]
The looks of the weapons were enough to frighten the outlaw intosubmission. He made no remark, but it was easy enough to see that he wasnot brave enough to think seriously of attempting resistance.
"Now, Adam," said Frank, "keep him covered with your rifle, and if heshows fight, bang away. I'll soon put it out of his power to do anymischief."
As Frank spoke he produced his fish-line from his pocket, and afterdoubling it two or three times, passed it around the outlaw's wrists,and tied it securely. The latter, at first, showed a disposition to beugly, and resisted Frank's efforts to bring his hands behind his back;but the expression he saw on the face of Adam Brent, as he cocked therifle, and placed its cold muzzle against his temple, quickly broughthim to terms. Frank handled the fish-line skilfully, and in a fewminutes the outlaw was as helpless as though he had been in irons.
"There!" said Adam; "he is all right, and so am I. I feel a little moreat ease than I did ten minutes ago. What's to be done now?"
"The first think is breakfast," replied Frank. "Here are threetrout--one apiece; and although they are hardly enough to make a mealfor one hungry man, we can't catch any more, for my fish-line is in use.Help yourself. I'll feed Black Bill, if he wants any thing to eat. Bythe way, is this man what he claims to be?"
"I suppose he is my uncle," answered Adam; "but he doesn't act like it,does he? He has kept me a prisoner for ten years; or, it amounts to thesame thing, for I could scarcely go out of the house, unless accompaniedby my father. That is the story I promised to tell you, and I willrelate it now while we are resting and eating our breakfast. Then I willtell you what happened last night at the fort."
"Black Bill, if you want me to feed you, come here," said Frank.
"Chaw your own grub," was the gruff response.
"All right. If you get hungry before night, you will know who to blame."
The boys, leaving the outlaw sitting sullenly on the bank of the brook,stretched themselves on the grass near the fire, with their weaponsclose at their side, and Adam began his story.