Wild Bill's Last Trail Part 10

CHAPTER XI.

IN THE WILDS.

If ever a man was astonished, when he responded to that after midnight signal at the mouth of Dead Man's Hollow, it was the outlaw, Persimmon Bill. He came from his place of concealment expecting to meet the Texan with news, and found instead Addie Neidic, and with her, on a pack horse, all the wealth and apparel she had in the world.

"Addie, love, what does this mean?" he cried, as she sprang from the horse and threw herself into his arms.

"It means this, Bill. I have come to stay with you, go where you go, live as you live, and die where you die!"

"Addie, dearest, did I not tell you to wait till I could give you a home in peace and quietness!"

"Yes, Bill, but there were those that would not let me wait. To-night, had it not been for thy Texan friend, most likely I would have been murdered by a mob of drunken ruffians led on by Wild Bill. Warned in time, I escaped with all that I had worth saving, except my house and furniture. Those they burned; I saw the blaze from my stable, where I went to get my horses to come to you."

"By all that's fiendish, this is more than I can bear! I'll ride in with my Sioux and burn the cursed town!"

"No, Bill; for my sake keep cool and hear me. I am glad it is done. I was wretched and lonely there--how lonely no words may tell. I was in constant anxiety on your account. I trembled daily, hourly, lest I should hear of your death or capture. Now I shall be with you, know of your safety, or if you are in peril, share the danger with you."

"But, Addie, you can never endure the privations and the fatigue of such a life as I must lead at present. Soon I must be on a b.l.o.o.d.y war-path.

We will have regular troops to meet, great battles to fight."

"And it will be my glory and pride to be with you in all your perils--to show your red allies what a pale-faced woman dares and can do for him whom she loves."

"Dearest, I see not how it can be helped. But I grieve to see you suffer."

"Do not grieve, my love, while my face is bright with smiles. Do not let your heart be heavy while mine is full of joy. Think but this--I am thine until death. We will never part while life thrills our veins. Your triumphs shall be mine; I will glory in your courage, and in your enterprise. I have arms and well know their use. No warrior in all your following can ride better than I. That I am fearless I really believe, for twice inside of ten hours have I defied Wild Bill in his anger, and laughed when his hand was on his pistol. But take me to your camp. I am tired, and the night air is chilly; and take care of the pack horse. My silver and over one hundred thousand dollars in money is on his back, and what clothing I shall need for a time."

"You bring a rich dowry, Addie, but your love is worth more than all the treasures the world could show. Come, darling, I will take you as the most precious gift a wild, bad man ever received."

"You are not bad, Bill. You are my hero and my love!"

Bill could only press his answer on her lips, and then with the bridle of her horses in his hand, and her arm linked in his, he walked back up the winding bed of the ravine for near a quarter of a mile.

Then he emerged into an open s.p.a.ce where there were full a hundred Indian ponies staked out, with their owners lying in groups about near small smoldering camp-fires. A few only were on guard, and these on seeing their white chief appear paid no apparent attention to the companion, though they doubtless saw her. It is the Indian's nature to be stoical and never to manifest surprise, no matter what occurs.

Inside the line where the ponies were staked was a small brush house, and in front of this Bill halted with his led horses, with his own hands unsaddled one and unpacked the other, leaving packs and saddles in front of the house.

Well he knew they were as safe there as they would have been behind bolts and bars in the settlements--even more safe.

"Come in, my love," he said. "The Sioux will care for the horses. Come in and receive the best a fond heart can give in the way of shelter and comfort."

"It is all I ask," she murmured, as with him she entered the "Outlaw's Home."

CHAPTER XII.

ON THE TRAIL.

It was high noon when the young Texan woke up and when he rose Pond still lay sleeping. The former laughed lightly, as he rose and bathed his face in the limpid water, for the beard of the sleeper had got all awry, showing that it was false.

"No need for a disguise here," said the Texan. "But let him keep it up.

When the time comes I'll read him a lesson."

Cutting some antelope stakes, the Texan built up a smokeless fire, and had them nicely broiled when Willie Pond woke up.

"Mercy! how I have slept!" he said, as he looked at the sun, already fast declining toward the west.

"You are not used to pa.s.sing sleepless nights," said the Texan. "When we are fairly launched into the Indian country you may not sleep so sound.

Take hold and eat. A hearty eater on the plains generally stands travel best. To-morrow, it is likely, we'll have a fifty-mile ride or more, if those Black Hillers get sobered down to their work. They'll do well if they make their twenty to-day."

Pond went and bathed his face and hands in the limpid water before eating, and as he expressed it, "rubbed the sleep" out of his eyes; then he went at the toothsome steak with appet.i.te not at all impaired by the pure open air he was breathing.

The meal, taken with comfort and deliberation, occupied a half hour or more, and as there were no dishes to wash, "clearing up things" only consisting in tossing the bones out of the way, wiping their knives on a bunch of gra.s.s, scouring them with a plunge or two in the dry sand, they were all ready for next meal-time.

"Your horse hears something, so does mine," said the Texan, pointing to the animals, which suddenly stopped feeding, and with their ears p.r.i.c.ked forward, looked off to the east-ward.

"I can see nothing. What can alarm them!" said Pond.

"They hear the tramp of the Black Hills party, I think. Horses have far better hearing than we have, and will feel a jar of the ground that would not attract our attention. I want no better sentinel than my mustang, and your Black Hawk seems to take to the watch by instinct. I will go up on my look-out post and see if anything is in sight."

Slinging the strap of his field-gla.s.s over his shoulder, the Texan hurriedly climbed up the tree. Seated among the top-most limbs, he adjusted his gla.s.s and looked away to the northeast.

"There they are!" he cried.

"Who? What?" exclaimed Pond, rather nervously.

"The Black Hillers, struggling along mighty careless. Their route covers half a mile in length; when in good marching order it should not cover a hundred yards, with scouts in the rear, front, and on both flanks, at twice the distance. That is the way we travel in Texas."

"Wild Bill has been a scout so long I should think he would know all about it," said Pond.

"A heap them scouts know who travel with Uncle Sam's troop's!" said the Texan, in a tone of contempt. "Let them ride with a gang of Texan Rangers a few months and they'd learn something. Your troops can't move, or stop to water, without sounding their bugles to tell the Indians where they are. In the morning, all day, and at night, it is toot, toot with their infernal horns, and the reds know just where to find 'em. One of our Texan Ranger bands will travel a hundred miles and you'll not hear noise enough to wake a coyote from them all. These Black Hillers travel slow to-day. They're sore-headed from their spree, I reckon."

"They deserve to be. Drunkenness always punishes the drunkard. I have no pity for them."

"Can you see any sign of them from where you stand?" asked the Texan.

Pond looked carefully off in the direction the other pointed, and replied:

"No. They do not even raise dust."

"Then we are safe here from observation. They go too slow to make dust, and they're moving over gra.s.s any way. It will be dark before they reach their camping-ground. But to make the next, which is full fifty miles away, they'll have to start earlier. Ah! what does that mean?"

"What startles you?"

"Nothing _startles_ me, but a couple of men from that party have dashed out from the line at a gallop, and they ride this way."

"Heaven! I hope Bill--Wild Bill--is not one of them!" cried Pond, greatly excited. "Are you sure they are coming here?"

"Riding _this way_ does not a.s.sume that they're coming _here!"_ said the Texan, coolly. "They may have flanked off to look for some fresh meat.

Yes, that is it," he added. "They bear up to the north now; they want to go ahead of the party so as to kill something fresh for supper. Captain Jack kept sober when all the rest were drinking last night, and I'll wager he is one of the hunters, and most likely Sam Chichester is the other. We're safe from observation, Mr. Pond, so don't get nervous.

We'll not see Wild Bill to-day."