Frank in the Mountains

Harry Castlemon

Frank in the Mountains

CHAPTER I

THE FOOT-RACE

One sultry afternoon in September, about four weeks after the occurrence of the events we have attempted to describe in the second volume of this series, Frank and Archie found themselves comfortably settled in new quarters, hundreds of miles from the scene of their recent exploits. According to arrangement, they accompanied Captain Porter on his expedition, and in due time encamped a short distance from an old Indian trading-post, in the very heart of the Rocky Mountains.

The journey across the plains, from Fort Yuma on the Colorado to the head-waters of the Missouri, was accomplished without danger or difficulty. The expedition traveled rapidly, and the only incidents that occurred to relieve the monotony of the ride were a buffalo hunt and a chase after a drove of wild horses. On these occasions the cousins gained hearty applause from the trappers – Frank by his skill with the rifle, and Archie by his persevering but unsuccessful efforts to capture one of the wild steeds.

Had a stranger been dropped suddenly into the midst of the scenes with which the boys were now surrounded, he could scarcely have realized that he was miles and miles outside of a fence, and in the heart of a wilderness which but a few years before had been in undisputed possession of savages. The boys could hardly believe it themselves. If the fort, the trappers, and the Indian camp had been removed, Frank and Archie could easily have imagined that they were in the midst of a thriving farming region, and that they had only to cross to the other side of the mountains to find themselves in the streets of a prosperous and growing city. The country looked civilized. There were well-filled barns, rich fields of grain waiting to be harvested, and a herd of cattle standing under the shade of the trees on the banks of the clear dancing trout brook, which flowed by within a stone's throw of the house. There were wagons moving to and fro, between the barns and the fields, flocks of noisy ducks and hens wandering about, and Archie said he was every moment expecting to see a company of school-children come trooping by, with their dinner-baskets on their arms.

There was one thing that did not look exactly right, and that was the farm-house. It was built of sun-dried bricks, its walls were thick, and provided with loop-holes, and around it were the ruins of the palisade that had once served it as a protection against the Indians.

The farm-house was situated in the center of a delightful valley, which was surrounded on all sides by lofty mountains. In one corner of the valley, and in plain view of the house, was Fort Stockton, the trading-post of which we have spoken. Outside the walls a band of Indians, about a hundred in number, was encamped. They had come there to dispose of their furs, and were now having a glorious time among themselves, being engaged in various sports, such as running, wrestling, jumping, riding, and shooting at a mark. In a little grove between the house and the fort the trappers belonging to Captain Porter's expedition had made their camp, and the Captain himself sat on the porch, smoking his long Indian pipe, and conversing with Mr. Brent, the owner of the rancho. These gentlemen were old acquaintances and friends, having formerly been engaged in the fur trade together; and when the expedition made its appearance in the valley, Mr. Brent insisted that the Captain and his young friends should make their headquarters at his house, until they were ready to resume their journey. The boys willingly accepted the invitation – Frank for the reason that there was a well-filled library in the house, and Archie because he wanted to be near a new acquaintance he had made.

Close beside the stairs which led to the porch, Dick and old Bob lay stretched out on their blankets, listening to the yells of the Indians, and watching all that was going on in the camp; and, if one might judge by their looks and actions, they were not at all pleased with the state of affairs. Indeed, they had kept up a constant grumbling ever since they came into the valley, and had repeatedly declared that they had never expected to see the day that Indians would be permitted to come into a white settlement and carry things with so high a hand.

"Times aint as they used to be, Bob," said Dick, knocking the ashes from his pipe, and filling up for a fresh smoke. "When me an' ole Bill Lawson trapped in this yere valley, years ago, I never thought that I should set here, as I do now, an' let a hul tribe of screechin' varlets jump about afore my very eyes, without drawin' a bead on some of 'em. This country is ruined; I can see that easy enough."

"Dick is growling again," said Archie. "If he could have his own way, there wouldn't be an Indian in the world by this time to-morrow."

The cousins occupied an elevated position on the porch, from which they could observe the proceedings in the Indian camp. Near them stood the son of the owner of the rancho, Adam Brent. He was about Archie's age and size, only a little more thick-set and muscular; and with his brown, almost copper-colored complexion, dark eyes, and long black hair, might easily have passed for an Indian. His dress consisted of a hunting shirt of heavy cloth, buckskin leggins and moccasins, and a fur cap, which he wore both summer and winter.

Our heroes had made some alterations in their costumes since we last saw them. They had worn the Mexican dress while in California, because it was particularly adapted to the warm climate; but now they had discarded their wide pants for buckskin trowsers and leggins, although they still held to their sombreros, light shoes, and jackets.

The boys had spent but three days at Mr. Brent's rancho, but they were already famous, for Dick and Bob had never neglected an opportunity to relate the story of their adventures and exploits in California. When they visited the fort, the officers and soldiers looked at them as though they had been some curious wild animals; the trappers belonging to the expedition treated them with a great deal of respect; and their new acquaintance, Adam Brent, acknowledged that he had been greatly mistaken in the opinions he had formed concerning boys from the States. They arose still higher in his estimation before he bade them good-by.

When Archie spoke, Bob and Dick raised themselves on their elbows and looked at him.

"Yes, little un, I am growlin' agin," said the latter; "an' I reckon you'd growl too, if you knowed as much about them Injuns as I do. I'll allow that if I could have my way thar wouldn't be as many of 'em by this time to-morrow as thar are now, but I wouldn't like to sweep 'em out of the world by any onnateral means. I'll tell you what I'd do," he added, pointing to the grove in which the trappers were encamped. "Thar are twenty fine fellers layin' around under them trees, an' I like 'em, 'cause they're honest men, an' hate Injuns as bad as I do. I'd say to 'em: 'Boys, get up an' show them ar' red skins what sort of stuff you're made of!' They'd do it in a minit, an' be glad of the chance; an' thar'd be a thinnin' out of them Injun's ranks that would do your eyes good to look at."

"Perhaps some of you would get thinned out too," said Frank. "Those Indians are all well armed."

"I know that; but I, fur one, would be willin' to run the risk. I don't like to see 'em playin' about that ar way. When I walk through their camp, it is as hard fur me to keep from pitchin' into one of 'em as it is for a duck to keep out of the water."

"Let's go down there," said Archie. "I'd like to see what is going on."

Frank replied by picking up his hat; while Adam looked toward his father, who shook his head very decidedly. The cousins were a good deal surprised at this, and they had been surprised at the same thing more than once during their short stay at the rancho. Adam was never allowed to go anywhere, unless his father went with him. Mr. Brent kept watch of him night and day, and never appeared to be at ease if his son was out of his sight. He seemed to be afraid that some mischief would befall him unless he kept him constantly under his eye.

"You will have to go without me," said Adam, with some disappointment in his tone.

"Don't you get tired of staying about the house all the time?" asked Archie. "I'd dry up like a mummy, for want of some jolly exercise to stir up my blood."

"I do get very tired of it," replied Adam, "but I can't help it. It would be as much as my life is worth to go out of sight of this house. If I should go down to that camp, I might never come back again. I'll tell you a story before you leave us."

Frank and Archie would have been glad to postpone their visit to the camp, and to listen to the story then and there; but Adam left them, and entered the house. Dick and Bob accompanied them to the fort, and while on the way the boys talked over what Adam had said to them, and speculated upon the causes that rendered it necessary for him to be kept so close a prisoner; but that was a mystery, and would probably remain so until Adam saw fit to enlighten them.

After a few minutes' walk they reached the camp, and seated themselves upon a little knoll, under the shade of a spreading oak, to watch the games. The principal sport, among the younger members of the tribe, seemed to be running foot-races; and, in this, one youthful savage excelled all his companions. He was a tall, active fellow, apparently about Frank's age, as straight as an arrow, and very muscular. He easily distanced every one of his competitors, and finally he stepped up to the visitors, and fastening his eyes upon Frank, asked him if he could run.

"I reckon he can," replied Dick, before Frank could speak. "Fur one of his years he is about the liveliest feller on his legs I ever seed; an' I've met a heap of smart youngsters in my day, I tell you. You haint got no business with him. He would go ahead of you like a bird on the wing."

"Ugh!" exclaimed the young Indian.

"It's a fact; an' that aint all he can do, nuther. He can not only beat you runnin', but he can out-ride, out-shoot, an' out-jump you; an' he can take your measure on the ground as fast as you can get up."

The Indian listened attentively to all the trapper had to say, and then turned and surveyed Frank from head to foot. A white boy would have thought twice before selecting so formidable an opponent; but the Indian, evidently having great confidence in his powers, stepped back, and motioned to the young hunter to follow him – an invitation which Frank had no desire to accept. He would not have been at all averse to a friendly trial of speed and skill with the young warrior, if Dick had not been so lavish in his praises; but what if he should be beaten after all the complimentary things the trapper had said about him? The Indian had shown himself to be a great braggart. Whenever he won a race, he announced the fact by a series of hideous yells, that were heard all over the camp; and if he should chance to distance Frank, how he would crow over him!

"I believe I won't try it, Dick," said the latter.

"What!" exclaimed old Bob, in great amazement. "Are you goin' to set thar an' take a banter like that, an' from an Injun, too? I haint been fooled in you, have I? Come on, and show the red skins what you can do."

"Yes, go Frank," chimed in Archie, "and take some of the conceit out of that fellow. I know you can beat him. See how impudent he looks!"

Frank glanced toward the Indian, who stood patiently awaiting a response to his challenge, and meeting with a sneering smile, which told him as plainly as words that he was believed to be a coward, he sprang to his feet, and accompanied by his cousin and the trappers, followed the Indian toward the race-course. The latter kept up a loud shouting as he walked along, and Frank noticed, with no little uneasiness, that the Indians, old and young, abandoned their own sports and fell in behind.

"They 're goin' out to see the race," said Dick. "That boaster is tellin' 'em how bad he is goin' to beat you. I reckon he'll be about the wust fooled man them Injuns ever seed."

The prospect of a contest between a white boy and one of their own number, created quite a commotion among the savages; and by the time Frank and his companions reached the race-course, the village had been deserted. Among the spectators were the officers of the fort, and four white trappers who made their home among the Indians. In these last, if Frank had noticed them, he would have recognized old acquaintances, whom he had good reason to remember; but as they did not make themselves very conspicuous, he did not see them. They did not seem to care much about the race, but they appeared to be greatly interested in Dick and Bob, and their young friends. They looked at Frank, then held a whispered consultation, and one of them left his companions, and, mounting a small gray horse, rode off toward the mountains; while the others devoted their entire attention to Archie, whom they watched as closely as ever a cat watched a mouse. If Frank could have seen that horse, it is possible that there would have been an uproar in that camp immediately; and if Archie had known what the men were saying about him, and what they were intending to do with him, he would have wished himself safe back in California again.

When Frank reached the race-course, and looked back at the cloud of spectators that hung upon the outskirts of the village, his heart failed him; but it was only for a moment. It was too late to think of backing out, and with a firm determination to win the race, he began preparing for it by throwing off his hat and jacket, and tying his handkerchief around his waist. At this moment the principal chief of the band appeared upon the ground, and assumed the management of affairs. He was a very dignified looking Indian, stood more than six feet in his moccasins, wore a profusion of feathers in his hair, a red blanket over his shoulders, and was altogether the finest specimen of a savage the boys had ever met. Frank was very much interested in him; but before many hours had passed over his head, he had reason to wish he had never seen him.

"He is my beau ideal of a warrior," whispered Archie. "He looks exactly as I imagined all Indians looked before I knew as much about them as I do now. Isn't he splendid, Dick?"

"Sartin," replied the trapper. "I'd like to meet him alone in the mountains, an' show him how easy I can raise that har of his'n. Now, youngsters, if you are all ready, I am. I see that some of the Injuns are goin' to run the race too – jest to encourage their man, you know – an' I am goin' with you. Do your level best, now."

The race-course was about half a mile long. At the end of it was a tree which the runners were to double, terminating the race at the place from which they started. This the chief explained to Frank in broken English, and, after placing the rival runners side by side, and glancing up and down the course to satisfy himself that the way was clear, he raised a yell as the signal to start. Before his lips were fairly opened the race was begun.

CHAPTER II

WHAT CAME OF IT

No sooner had the chief's yell died away than the whole tribe took it up; and such a din as that which rung in Frank's ears during the next few seconds, he had never heard before. The yells did not express delight, but surprise and indignation; for their youthful champion was being left behind at the very commencement of the race. Frank took the lead at the start. The instant the signal was given, he bounded forward like an arrow from a bow, and was well under way before the Indian had made a step.

"Whoop!" yelled Dick, his stentorian voice ringing out loud and clear above the noise made by the excited savages; "if that wasn't well done may I never draw a bead on an Injun agin." The trapper was following close at Frank's heels, swinging along with an easy, graceful motion, and moving over the ground so lightly that he scarcely seemed to touch it. "Don't be in too big a hurry," said he, as Frank continued to increase his speed. "Save some of your wind for the finish. Come along, thar," he added, looking over his shoulder at the young Indian. "If you can't keep up, come here an' I'll tote you."

The savage, however, was not yet beaten. Quickly recovering from his surprise, and spurred on by the yells of derision which his friends sent after him, he exerted himself to the utmost; and before they reached the end of the course, he had overtaken Frank, and was running side by side with him; but he could not pass him. Indeed, it was quite as much as he could do to keep pace with him; while Frank was running well within himself, with plenty of power held in reserve, and ready, at a word from the trapper, to put on a fresh burst of speed, and leave his rival far in the rear. They reached the tree at the end of the course, swung round it like two flashes of light, and sped along the home stretch with unabated speed, the Indian beginning to feel the effects of his rapid run, and Frank apparently as fresh as when he started.

"He aint half the runner I thought he was," said the trapper, to encourage his young friend. "He's blowing his bellows already. I say, Injun! I reckon you're a little out of practice, aint you? The next time you banter a white feller to race with you, you had better pick out a good hoss to carry you. We haint begun to run yet. Let out just the least bit, youngster."

Frank "let out" a good deal; and although the Indian made desperate attempts to keep pace with him, he quickly left him behind, and finally flew past the place where the chief was standing, the winner by fifty yards.

"Whoop! Whoop!" shouted Dick, who seemed to be almost beside himself with delight. "I say, chief! If you've got any young fellers in camp, who think themselves something great at ridin', jumpin', throwin' the lasso, an' handlin' the rifle, jest trot 'em out. We've beat you runnin', an' now that we have got our blood up, we are ready for a'most any thing."

The issue of the race greatly astonished the Indians. Frank, as he passed the chief, was welcomed with cheers from the officers of the fort, the trappers, and from Archie, who hurried up to him, and shook his hand as though he had not met him for months; while the defeated runner was greeted with jeers and ridicule. No one, not even Dick, seemed more delighted than the chief. He approached the place where Frank was standing, patted him on the back, and looked at him with as much curiosity and admiration as he would have bestowed upon a steamboat or a locomotive, had one suddenly made its appearance in the valley. "Good boy!" said he, approvingly. "Ought to be Injun."

"He had oughter be a trapper," said old Bob. "A boy who can run like that is wasting his time by living in the States. If you would stay out here among the mountains fur a few years, Master Frank, you might get to be the leader of a band of trappers, or the captain of a wagon train."

Frank, flushed with excitement and exercise, turned to look for his rival. He saw him standing at a little distance from the other members of the tribe, leaning against a tree, with his arms folded, and a fierce scowl on his face. His defeat, and the reception he had met with from his friends, had made him very angry. Now and then some one jeered at him, but the majority of the tribe took no notice of him whatever. They seemed to think that an Indian who would allow a white boy to run faster than he did, was not worth noticing.

"You've give him a big back-set, Frank," said Dick; "an' my advice to you is to keep your eyes open as long as we stay in the valley. You've made an enemy of that feller, an' I know, by the squint in his eye, that he wouldn't think no more of slippin' a ball or arrer into you, than he would of eatin' a piece of jerked buffaler. You see these Injuns are mighty wild yet; they haint been whipped enough to make 'em tame. They seem friendly enough now, but they've no great love fur white folks; an', if they thought they could do it without bringin' harm to themselves, they would massacree the last one of us afore they are an hour older. I don't like the way they act, any how; an', mark what I say, youngster, we're goin' to have trouble with 'em. Bars an' buffaler! What's up now?"

The trapper was not long in finding out what was up, and neither was Frank. The young Indian, smarting under his defeat, and stung by the ridicule of his friends, had determined to retrieve his lost reputation. If he could not distance the white boy in a foot-race, he could perhaps beat him at something else, and so regain some of the laurels that had been wrested from him. He resolved to try it; and before Frank knew what was going on, the Indian stepped up behind him, and clasping his sinewy arms around his body, lifted him from his feet, and attempted to throw him to the ground. He took Frank by surprise, and caught him in such a manner that his arms were pinned to his side, thus placing him at great disadvantage.

"That's a cowardly way of doing business," shouted Archie, indignantly. "Why don't you give a fellow a fair chance? If he throws you, Frank, get up and try it again, for this won't be a fair test."

"He aint a goin' to be throwed," said the trapper. "That Injun will have to eat a heap of dried buffaler meat afore he can get Frank off his pins. Show him what you can do, youngster."

The young Indian speedily found that he had got his hands full, and that one hundred and sixty pounds of bone and muscle was an exceedingly unhandy weight to manage, especially when backed up by such skill and courage as Frank possessed. The latter positively refused to be thrown. The Indian, although he exerted himself to the utmost, could not force him from an upright position, for Frank, like a cat, always fell feet foremost. The excitement ran high as the young athletes struggled over the ground. Yells of delight and encouragement from the friends of both parties arose in deafening chorus, and Indians, officers, and trappers pushed and elbowed one another to obtain a position from which they could view the contest, which was decided in Frank's favor much more easily and quickly than the foot-race. After a few ineffectual attempts, he succeeded in freeing his arms; and catching the Indian around the body, broke his hold in an instant, and sent him headlong to the ground. The ease with which it was done astonished every one who witnessed it, and had a very chilling effect upon the ardor of the Indian, who jumped to his feet and stole off toward the village, looking exceedingly humiliated and crestfallen.

Frank, although he was proud of his victories, as any other boy would have been under the same circumstances, was almost sorry that he had allowed himself to be persuaded into contesting the Indian's claims to superiority. The expression he saw on the face of his rival told him that he was almost beside himself with fury; and Frank did not relish the thought that any one, even an Indian, whom he never expected to see again, should be angry at him for any thing he had done. He would have been astonished had he known what was to be the result of this morning's work. He was destined to see and know a great deal more of his rival, and also of the chief, whose interest in him now seemed to be redoubled; and this foot-race and wrestling match were the preludes to more than one exciting and disagreeable event that was to happen before he saw California again.

"Youngster, I am proud of you," exclaimed Dick, seizing Frank's hand, and giving it a grip and a shake that made the boy double up like a jack-knife; "but I say agin, that you had better keep a good lookout as long as them red skins stay about here. They're mighty onsartin, an' thar's no knowin' what they may do. Let's go home."

Frank put on his jacket and hat, and followed the trappers toward the house. He found Captain Porter, Mr. Brent, and Adam impatiently awaiting his arrival, for they had witnessed the race, and were anxious to know all about it. Dick, as usual, acted as spokesman; and Frank afterward said that he had not the least idea how swift a runner he was, or what an astonishing victory he had won, until he heard the trapper relate the particulars. If one might judge by what he said, Frank could beat any mustang in Mr. Brent's stables.

The listeners were all as highly elated as the trapper. Adam shook his new friend warmly by the hand, and the Captain laughed until he shook all over like a big bowl of jelly. Frank was once more a hero, and during the next half hour the race formed the chief topic of conversation; but even that grew tiresome at last, and the cousins, who could not remain long inactive, strolled off toward the camp of the trappers. Shortly afterward they emerged from the grove, mounted on their horses, and rode toward the mountains.