CHAPTER XXXVII.
THE LAST CAMP-FIRE.
It seemed to strike all three of the friends at the same moment thatthey had shown a strange forgetfulness of the occasion. A sudden impulsehad led them into a test of skill, that had continued fully a quarter ofan hour, during which there was no thought on the part of any one of thegravity of their situation.
But a little while before, both Fred Linden and Terry Clark were indistress on account of their friends, while their own position(believing as they did that there were Winnebagos in front as well as inthe rear), ought to have driven away all inclination for sport oramusement. One of their strongest desires was the presence of Deerfoot,that they might have his counsel and help. Here he was, and no referencehad been made to the subjects uppermost in their minds. Now that he tookhis seat near them by the camp-fire, as if to invite their confidence,they quickly returned to the all important business.
First of all, they asked for his experience since their separation thenight before. He gave only a part of it. He told nothing about hisconflict with the Wolf and his companion, which resulted in the death ofboth, but said that he had kept watch of the Winnebagos until morning,when he saw them start for the camp in the mountains. He learned fromtheir signaling that they had other warriors in the neighborhood, andthere could be no doubt that an attack was intended upon the Hunters ofthe Ozark. Nevertheless the Shawanoe kept in their vicinity, until theyapproached the open prairie of which mention has been make. Then hedecided to pass them and join his young friends.
Feeling no doubt that the latter were following the right trail (severalexaminations which he made satisfied him that they were doing so), heleft it altogether, and took a shorter route across the country. He wasso familiar with it that he could easily do this. His intention was tostrike the main path again at the crossing, where they had such a narrowescape from the cyclone; but he calculated that by nightfall they wouldbe a considerable distance beyond, and he wished to test theirwatchfulness when left to themselves. So he came back to the trail abouthalf way between that point and the creek which they had crossed bymeans of the canoe. He saw from an examination of the ground that he wasahead of them, so he sauntered forward, firing off his gun where a turnin the path made it seem to come from one side instead of in front ofthem. He did this as he explained with a view of warning them to keeptheir eyes open. It soon began growing dark and he kept on until hereached the stream, where he decided to wait and see what they would do.
He was as surprised as they when they brought forth the little canoe andpushed themselves across by means of the pole which Fred Linden himselfcut. He followed them, easily wading the stream. After that he indulgedin a little diversion with which you are familiar.
"Wasn't it strange, Deerfoot," said Fred, "that we should have foundthat canoe?"
He nodded his head to signify that he thought it was.
"Have you any idea how it got there?"
"He who owned the boat hid it under the bushes."
"But there are no Indian villages within a great many miles of thisplace--is that not so?"
He gave another affirmative nod.
"Have you any idea of who the owner can be?"
A third affirmative nod followed.
"Who is he?" asked Fred in astonishment.
"Deerfoot."
"What! Does that little canoe belong to _you_?"
"Deerfoot made it and hid it under the bushes: why did not my brothersuse the paddle?"
"We hunted all round, but could not find it."
"It was within reach of my brother's hands; it was covered with leaves."
"And so the boat is yer own?" repeated Terry; "why that looks as if yelived somewhere in this neighborhood; is such the case, owld boy?"
The question did not seem to please the Shawanoe. He was sittingdirectly in front of his young friends, who looked earnestly in hisface. He made no answer to Terry's question, but continued looking amongthe coals, as if he was pondering some other matter that had thus beenbrought to mind. Fred shook his head at Terry as a warning that heshould not repeat his query, and the latter was wise enough not to doso; but the friends concluded from that moment that the wandering youngShawanoe made his home at no great distance from where all three were atthat moment sitting in the wilderness. And they were right.
A minute later, Deerfoot raised his head and signified that he wished toknow in turn what had befallen them since they parted companytwenty-four hours before. You will admit that each had a stirring storyto tell and he told it. The Shawanoe first listened to Terry's accountof his ride on the back of the wounded buffalo, and, when it wasfinished, he quietly remarked to his young friend that he had done well.
Though he showed no emotion, it was clear to both boys that he felt themost concern in the experience of Fred Linden. He said nothing until thenarrator was through, including the account of the cyclone. Deerfoot hadheard the noise made by the latter, but he was so far removed from itspath that he saw none of its fearful effects, and in fact cared littleabout it, for he had seen the same thing more than once before.
But that which interested him was the account of Fred Linden's meetingwith the Winnebago horse thieves. This was the first knowledge hereceived that any of their enemies were mounted on animals. Deerfoot hadturned off the main trail so early in the day that he missed themaltogether. When he came back to the path, near where the three were incamp at that moment, and he examined the ground for signs of thefootprints of the boys, there were none that had been made by the hoofsof horses. They had struck the trail further to the north, taking adifferent course from the camp where they had stolen the animals.
Fred blushed under the warm compliments of Deerfoot on his coolness,bravery and skill in the presence of the three Winnebagos. You willagree that it was a daring exploit indeed, which would have done creditto a veteran frontiersman. It could not have been otherwise to draw suchwarm praise from the Shawanoe.
But the compliments could well be deferred to some other season. Thefact that three Indians had stolen the same number of horses from theHunters of the Ozark, and then had ridden leisurely away to meet theirfriends, showed that they had great confidence in themselves, doubtlesscaused by the belief that they were safe against any attempt to recoverthe property.
"Deerfoot," said Fred, after there had been a full exchange ofexperiences; "we stopped here only because we could not keep to thetrail in the darkness. Don't you think it best that we should now go on,since you will not have the same trouble that we did?"
He shook his head in the negative.
"It is not far to the camp of my brothers; the Winnebagos are a longways back on the trail; they will not come up with us; my brothers havea chance to sleep; they may have no chance when they reach the cabin;let them sleep now."
The natural inference from this remark was that he believed nothing morewas to be apprehended from the Winnebagos, so long as our three friendswere on their way to the cabin of the Hunters of the Ozark. The dangerwould now be transferred to that point.
"Is it not likely that some of the red men are between us and ourfriends?" asked Fred, as though their guide had not thought of everycontingency.
"There is none," was the quiet answer, and then he added theexplanation. The Winnebagos, as soon as they had captured the horses,had mounted them and ridden off to meet Black Bear and the rest, so asto combine with them in the attack upon the cabin in the mountains.Being so few in numbers, they did not dare stay in the neighborhood,but were certain to come back with the others.
The theft of the animals was no part of the original plan of the redmen, and was therefore what may be considered poor generalship, since itwas likely to draw attention to the presence of hostiles and to put theHunters of the Ozark on their guard.
Deerfoot made no such remark at the time, but he afterward expressed hisregret that he had not joined Fred and Terry earlier in the day, so thathe could have been with them when they met the horse thieves. Had hedone so, there can be no
doubt that they would have recaptured every oneof the animals, even if they had had to shoot each thief from the backof his stolen steed. Such a result would have changed the whole courseof the events that followed.
Since the Shawanoe advised them to stay where they were until morning,the natural query of the lads was as to the degree of danger they ran.They had thought there was little to be feared from Indians, but afterthe fire was started, both had misgivings--afterward intensified nodoubt by the little trick played upon them by Deerfoot.
He assured them that there was nothing to be feared from Indians. Therewas and would be none near them through the night. They were at a safedistance from the trail, so that if any one should pass back or forth hecould not possibly catch a glimpse of the camp.
"I never dispute a man's sintimints," said Terry, "onless it happens todisagraa with me own, so I'll say ye are right because we think the sameway; but it's within me own ricolliction that whin ye enj'yed the honorof our coompany night before last, ye kipt guard all the night;Frederick and mesilf will now return the coompliment and take charge ofthe honors oursilves. If ye have any disputation that ye want to interinto, we'll sittle it by maans of a wristling match."
Deerfoot was inclined at first to act as sentinel, just as he had donebefore, but he had already declared that there was nothing to be feared,and his friends were so in earnest that he could not well refuse theirrequest. He would have preferred that they should gain all the sleepthey could, so as to lay up a stock, as may be said, against what waslikely to come at the cabin, but he yielded. He agreed to their wishes,and in doing so, indulged in one of his smiles, the depth of whosemeaning neither of the youths fully comprehended. In fact it simplymeant that he understood their ability in that respect better than theydid themselves.
And so, after reading his Bible, a portion of it aloud, he lay down uponthe blanket of Terry, as he did two nights before, and soon fell asleep.
"I'm glad to obsarve the same," remarked Terry; "for the good lookin'spalpeen must be in naad of slumber. I say, Fred, did ye iver saa theloikes of him? We must git him to run a race and jump and swim and standon his head and show jist what he can do. I'm glad as I say to obsarvethat he is aslaap, for he must naad the same. I say, Fred, let's stayawake till daylight, so as to fool him."
"I am glad to do that in return for the watch he kept over us the othernight; but if you and I undertake to sit up at the same time we shallfail. So I'll lie down and sleep awhile. When you find yourself gettingdrowsy, wake me up and then I shall be able to keep my eyes open untilmorning. In that way Deerfoot may have a whole night of rest."
"I'm agraaable to the same."
The plan was carried out, that is, a part of it, Fred Linden soondropped asleep, and, within an hour, Terry Clark did the same. WhenDeerfoot threw his blanket off his face and assumed the sittingposition, he saw just what he expected to see and he allowed them toslumber peacefully until daylight.
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
CONCLUSION.
The awaking of the boys was of the most pleasant character. The sky hadcleared and the sunlight penetrated between the branches from which theautumn leaves were fast falling. The crispness which is felt at thatseason of the year, stirred the young hearts and enlivened the spiritsin spite of the serious situation in which all three found themselves.
The odor of broiling fish was snuffed by the lads, and nothing couldhave been more delicious and appetizing. They were very hungry, and thenight before they supposed they would have to wait indefinitely fortheir morning meal, but they opened their eyes to find that Deerfoot hadprovided the most toothsome breakfast that could be imagined.
In the early morning light, fully two hours before the sun appeared,Deerfoot crossed the stream in his own canoe, and, taking the trail,ran several miles at the highest speed. While he did not go far enoughto see the camp-fire of the main war party of Winnebagos, he did notpause until certain that they had stayed in camp all night and would notcross the stream where the boys lay asleep until the forenoon was halfgone. So the Shawanoe hastened back, and dropped a short distance downstream in his canoe, having obtained his paddle, to an eddy where ittook but a few minutes for him to coax a half dozen fish from the cool,clear depths, and these were just browning to a turn when the boysopened their eyes.
Fred and Terry looked in each other's faces and laughed. They knew whatan absurd failure they had made. They had promised to watch whileDeerfoot slept, and then left him to act as sentinel until morning.
"It was your fault," whispered Fred, hunting in his pocket for thepackage of salt and pepper which survived, despite the wetting it hadreceived; "why didn't you wake me up, as I told you to do?"
"How could I wake ye up when I was aslaap mesilf?" was the pertinentquery of Terry; "I think I was only a half minute behind yersilf inbeginning me swate dreams."
"Even if you had roused me," said Fred, "I suppose I would have droppedto sleep the same as you; no one can keep awake (unless it is Deerfoot)while sitting on the ground. Well, I am sure I shan't say any thingabout it if _he_ doesn't."
"Let us shake on that," whispered Terry, stealthily extending his hand.
Deerfoot acted as though unaware that any such lapse had occurred. Thebrowned fish were spread on the green leaves, and Fred sprinkled theseasoning upon the portions to be eaten by himself and Terry; theShawanoe preferred none on his.
"If nothing unexpected happens," said Fred, "we will arrive at the cabinto-day."
The Shawanoe inclined his head by way of answer.
"When will the Winnebagos that are following us come to this stream?"
Deerfoot pointed to a portion of the sky which the sun would reach inabout three hours from that time.
"The Winnebagos are together; there may be a few coming from differentparts of the wood, but Black Bear has most of his warriors with him, andhe feels strong enough to destroy the cabin and our brothers who arethere."
"There are three there now, and when we join them there will be six. Iffather and the rest have fair notice of their coming, they ought to beable to put every thing in good shape for a defense. It won't take themlong to gather enough food to last for weeks, but how about water?"
"They have no water; our brothers know not why they should have it."
The Shawanoe meant to say that the men, seeing no reason why they shouldcollect any store of water within their primitive structure, never didso. It was at their door, and, when they wished to drink, they had butto stoop down and drink. Believing no such emergency as now threatenedcould arise, they failed to make any provision against it.
"I've been thinkin'," said Terry, "that bein' as how we started fromGreville to j'in the Hunters of the Ozark, with the idaa of spindin' thewinter with the same, that from the time we started we were mimbers ofthe same, but timporarily separated by a wide stritch of woods; what areyer own idaas?"
"I am not sure that I understand what you are trying to get at, but ifyou mean to say that we may call ourselves two of the Hunters of theOzark, I see no objection if we are a few days behind the rest inreaching the beaver runs."
"Oblige me by tistifying to the same," said Terry, rather effusively,shoving his hand toward his friend, who suspended operations with thefish long enough to salute him.
The breakfast was quickly finished, and the boys helped each other withtheir knapsacks, caught up their guns and followed Deerfoot as he ledthe way back to the trail. He did not hint any thing about their failureto keep guard for him the night before, though they felt sure that theywould hear from him at some time not very far distant.
When they found themselves following the path that had become sofamiliar, they glanced furtively behind, half expecting to hear theWinnebago war whoop and to see the warriors rushing after them; but nota living soul beside themselves was in sight, and the quiet assurance oftheir leader very nearly removed all such fear from them.
"Are there any more streams to cross?" asked Fred, a moment after theystarted along the trail.
&nbs
p; "There are none."
"That is good, and since we are several hours in advance of the Indians,we ought to be able to reach the cabin in time to give them warning,that is, if they are in need of it."
"How can they help being in need?" asked Terry.
"The horses were turned loose to look after themselves, and though Ican't know for some time how it is, it seems to me that it could wellhappen that they would not miss the animals for several days andpossibly not for a week or two."
The best ground for doubting that the Hunters of the Ozark were aware ofthe theft of the horses was the fact that there had been no pursuit.Those men, it is safe to say, would not have stayed idle had they knownthat three vagabond Indians were astride of their property and riding tothe northward. With the three fleeter animals at command, they wouldhave been after them in a twinkling: they would not have been obliged towait till they met Fred Linden before receiving some rifle shots.
Fred was confirmed in this theory by Deerfoot, who declared that suchwas his explanation of the failure of the hunters to pursue the thieves.
For two hours the trail which they were following steadily ascended,until they were considerably higher than when they left camp in themorning. The undergrowth was abundant, and the wood in some places wasso dense that they could see only a short distance on either hand. Thetrail was sinuous, winding in and out among the rocks in a way thatwould have bewildered any one not used to such traveling.
At last they reached the ridge of the elevation up which they had beenclimbing, and found themselves on the margin of a plateau or rathervalley, beyond which rose the rugged, precipitous Ozarks. Since theground sloped away from them, in the direction of the mountains, theirview was extended over many square miles of forest, stream and naturalclearing, to the mountain walls beyond, looking dim and soft in thedistance, with the hazy air between.
"Do my brothers see the gleam of the water yonder?" asked Deerfoot,pointing to a winding stream, large enough to be called a river, thoughit was half hidden by the woods. Its course was in the main at rightangles to the trail which the boys had been following, though, at timesit seemed to run straight toward and then away from them.
The youths answered that they could not very well look in the directionindicated by their friend, without seeing the stream to which hedirected their attention.
The Shawanoe placed himself so that he stood in front of the two.
"Now," said he, "let my brothers follow Deerfoot's finger and tell mewhat they see."
Pointing well to the right, he slowly swung his index finger toward theleft, until he had described about a quarter of a circle.
Since it was not easy for the two to look exactly at the point meant, atthe same time, Terry Clark first tried it. Removing his cap, he closedone eye and carefully peered along the extended arm of the Shawanoe asthough it was a rifle which he was about to aim and fire.
"What is it?" asked Fred, a moment later, with some impatience over theplodding deliberation of his companion.
"I obsarve a big lot of traas, some rocks, some water and a claarin'where ye could raise a big lot of praties, and--and--and--"
"I see what you mean!" exclaimed Fred in some excitement; "right in themiddle of the clearing stands a large cabin made of logs."
"It's mesilf that obsarves the same," added Terry, replacing his cap andlooking inquiringly at the Shawanoe, who let his extended arm fall ashe faced about and said: "That is the home of my brothers; that is thecabin of the Hunters of the Ozark."
"Hurrah!" called out Terry; "we're purty near there."
"But we don't know how matters stand," said Fred; "even Deerfoot can nottell whether they are all alive or dead."
"I know bitter than that," remarked Terry, appealing straight to theShawanoe, who, without directly answering the question, notified them ofan interesting fact: a thin column of smoke was rising from the cabin.
"That shows that some one is in there," said the Irish lad, "but whitherhe is white or rid, I don't s'pose the Shawanoe, with all his smartness,can tell even at this distance."
"My brother speaks truth," said Deerfoot; "our brothers may be well andthey maybe dead and the Winnebagos may have built the fire to lure us tothem: we shall soon know."
* * * * *
Here for the present we must pause, for we have already filled the spaceassigned to us; but we propose soon to tell you all about theadventures of Deerfoot, Fred and Terry, and of their friends the Huntersof the Ozark, whom they were trying to help. The story in which thiswill be related will appear under the title of
"THE CAMP IN THE MOUNTAINS."
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
FAMOUS STANDARD JUVENILE LIBRARIES.
ANY VOLUME SOLD SEPARATELY AT $1.00 PER VOLUME
(Except the Sportsman's Club Series, Frank Nelson Series and Jack Hazard Series.).
Each Volume Illustrated. 12mo. Cloth.
HORATIO ALGER, JR.
The enormous sales of the books of Horatio Alger, Jr., show thegreatness of his popularity among the boys, and prove that he is oneof their most favored writers. I am told that more than half a millioncopies altogether have been sold, and that all the large circulatinglibraries in the country have several complete sets, of which only twoor three volumes are ever on the shelves at one time. If this is true,what thousands and thousands of boys have read and are reading Mr.Alger's books! His peculiar style of stories, often imitated but neverequaled, have taken a hold upon the young people, and, despite theirsimilarity, are eagerly read as soon as they appear.
Mr. Alger became famous with the publication of that undying book,"Ragged Dick, or Street Life in New York." It was his first book foryoung people, and its success was so great that he immediately devotedhimself to that kind of writing. It was a new and fertile field for awriter then, and Mr. Alger's treatment of it at once caught the fancyof the boys. "Ragged Dick" first appeared in 1868, and ever since thenit has been selling steadily, until now it is estimated that about200,000 copies of the series have been sold.
--Pleasant Hours for Boys and Girls.
A writer for boys should have an abundant sympathy with them. Heshould be able to enter into their plans, hopes, and aspirations. Heshould learn to look upon life as they do. Boys object to be writtendown to. A boy's heart opens to the man or writer who understands him.
--From Writing Stories for Boys, by Horatio Alger, Jr.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
RAGGED DICK SERIES.6 vols. By Horatio Alger, Jr. $6.00Ragged Dick. Rough and Ready.Fame and Fortune. Ben the Luggage Boy.Mark the Match Boy. Rufus and Rose.
TATTERED TOM SERIES--First Series.4 vols. By Horatio Alger, Jr. $4.00Tattered Tom. Phil the Fiddler.Paul the Peddler. Slow and Sure.
TATTERED TOM SERIES--Second Series.4 vols. $4.00Julius. Sam's Chance.The Young Outlaw. The Telegraph Boy.
CAMPAIGN SERIES.3 vols. By Horatio Alger, Jr. $3.00Frank's Campaign. Charlie Codman's Cruise.Paul Prescott's Charge.
LUCK AND PLUCK SERIES--First Series.4 vols. By Horatio Alger, Jr. $4.00Luck and Pluck. Strong and Steady.Sink or Swim. Strive and Succeed.
LUCK AND PLUCK SERIES--Second Series.4 vols. $4.00Try and Trust. Risen from the Ranks.Bound to Rise. Herbert Carter's Legacy.
BRAVE AND BOLD SERIES.4 vols. By Horatio Alger, Jr. $4.00Brave and Bold. Shifting for Himself.Jack's Ward. Wait and Hope.
NEW WORLD SERIES.3 vols. By Horatio Alger, Jr. $3.00Digging for Gold. Facing the World.In a New World.
VICTORY SERIES.3 vols. By Horatio Alger, Jr. $3.00Only an Irish Boy. Adrift in the City.Victor Vane, or the Young Secretary.
FRANK AND FEARLESS SERIES.3 vols. By Horatio Alger, Jr. $3.00Frank Hunter's Peril. Frank and Fearless.The Young Salesman.
GOOD FORTUN
E LIBRARY.3 vols. By Horatio Alger, Jr. $3.00Walter Sherwood's Probation. A Boy's Fortune.The Young Bank Messenger.
RUPERT'S AMBITION.1 vol. By Horatio Alger, Jr. $1.00
JED, THE POOR-HOUSE BOY.1 vol. By Horatio Alger, Jr. $1.00
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
HARRY CASTLEMON.
HOW I CAME TO WRITE MY FIRST BOOK.
When I was sixteen years old I belonged to a composition class. It wasour custom to go on the recitation seat every day with clean slates, andwe were allowed ten minutes to write seventy words on any subject theteacher thought suited to our capacity. One day he gave out "What a ManWould See if He Went to Greenland." My heart was in the matter, andbefore the ten minutes were up I had one side of my slate filled. Theteacher listened to the reading of our compositions, and when they wereall over he simply said: "Some of you will make your living by writingone of these days." That gave me something to ponder upon. I did not sayso out loud, but I knew that my composition was as good as the best ofthem. By the way, there was another thing that came in my way just then.I was reading at that time one of Mayne Reid's works which I had drawnfrom the library, and I pondered upon it as much as I did upon what theteacher said to me. In introducing Swartboy to his readers he made useof this expression: "No visible change was observable in Swartboy'scountenance." Now, it occurred to me that if a man of his educationcould make such a blunder as that and still write a book, I ought to beable to do it, too. I went home that very day and began a story, "TheOld Guide's Narrative," which was sent to the _New York Weekly_, andcame back, respectfully declined. It was written on both sides of thesheets but I didn't know that this was against the rules. Nothingabashed, I began another, and receiving some instruction, from a friendof mine who was a clerk in a book store, I wrote it on only one side ofthe paper. But mind you, he didn't know what I was doing. Nobody knewit; but one day, after a hard Saturday's work--the other boys had beenout skating on the brick-pond--I shyly broached the subject to mymother. I felt the need of some sympathy. She listened in amazement, andthen said: "Why, do you think you could write a book like that?" Thatsettled the matter, and from that day no one knew what I was up to untilI sent the first four volumes of Gunboat Series to my father. Was itwork? Well, yes; it was hard work, but each week I had the satisfactionof seeing the manuscript grow until the "Young Naturalist" was allcomplete.
--Harry Castlemon in the Writer.
GUNBOAT SERIES.6 vols. By Harry Castlemon. $6.00Frank the Young Naturalist. Frank before Vicksburg.Frank on a Gunboat. Frank on the Lower Mississippi.Frank in the Woods. Frank on the Prairie.
ROCKY MOUNTAIN SERIES.3 vols. By Harry Castlemon. $3.00Frank Among the Rancheros. Frank in the Mountains.Frank at Don Carlos' Rancho.
SPORTSMAN'S CLUB SERIES.3 vols. By Harry Castlemon. $3.75The Sportsman's Club in the Saddle.The Sportsman's Club The Sportsman's Club Afloat.Among the Trappers.
FRANK NELSON SERIES.3 vols. By Harry Castlemon. $3.75Snowed up. Frank in the Forecastle. The Boy Traders.
BOY TRAPPER SERIES.3 vols. By Harry Castlemon. $3.00The Buried Treasure. The Boy Trapper.The Mail Carrier.
ROUGHING IT SERIES.3 vols. By Harry Castlemon. $3.00George in Camp. George at the Fort.George at the Wheel.
ROD AND GUN SERIES.3 vols. By Harry Castlemon. $3.00Don Gordon's Shooting Box. The Young Wild Fowlers.Rod and Gun Club.
GO-AHEAD SERIES.3 vols. By Harry Castlemon. $3.00Tom Newcombe. Go-Ahead. No Moss.
WAR SERIES.6 vols. By Harry Castlemon. $6.00True to His Colors. Marcy the Blockade-Runner.Rodney the Partisan. Marcy the Refugee.Rodney the Overseer. Sailor Jack the Trader.
HOUSEBOAT SERIES.3 vols. By Harry Castlemon. $3.00The Houseboat Boys. The Mystery of Lost River Canon.The Young Game Warden.
AFLOAT AND ASHORE SERIES.3 vols. By Harry Castlemon. $3.00Rebellion in Dixie. A Sailor in Spite of Himself.The Ten-Ton Cutter.
THE PONY EXPRESS SERIES.3 vol. By Harry Castlemon. $3.00The Pony Express Rider. The White Beaver.Carl, The Trailer.
Thank you for reading books on BookFrom.Net Share this book with friends