Frank in the Mountains

All this passed in much less time than we have taken to describe it, and it may be imagined that Frank's mind was in a great whirl. When he recovered himself sufficiently to understand his situation, he looked up and saw the young Indian clinging to the roots of the tree, and struggling to draw himself up to the firm ground above. He saw more: he saw that with every effort the Indian made, he was loosening the roots of the tree, and that one by one they were giving away. Forgetting, in that moment of peril, that he and the young warrior had been engaged in a desperate fight but a moment before, Frank, still hanging at arm's length from the branches of the tree, with an abyss of unknown depth below him, into which he was every instant expecting to be plunged by the giving away of the roots above, addressed words of advice and encouragement to the frightened savage.

"Take it easy, up there!" said he, coolly. "Don't thrash about so, for you are only exhausting yourself, without doing any good. Take your time, and you are all right."

But the Indian was too nearly overcome with fear, and too intent upon extricating himself from his dangerous position, to heed the advice. He struggled more desperately than ever, and finally, to Frank's immense relief, succeeded in pulling himself over the roots, and crawling up to the solid bank. Then his fear all vanished. He uttered a loud yell of exultation, and bent over the precipice to look at Frank, who was coming up 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 of the gorge, he carried his bow in his hand, with an arrow fitted to the string, which he drew to its head, and pointed straight at Frank's breast.

The young hunter was now menaced by another danger. He had escaped falling into the gorge almost by a miracle, but it did not seem possible that there was the least chance for escape this time. The Indian was standing on the bank above him, and Frank could almost touch the steel head of the arrow with his hand. He was completely at the mercy of his foe, who surely could not miss so large a mark at that distance. His bearing at that moment would have delighted Dick Lewis, could he have seen him. He hung by his hands from the branches of the tree, looking defiantly up into the Indian's face, and not a muscle quivered. The young warrior was evidently astonished, for he lowered his bow, gazed down 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. "If you 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 some unusual sound, and then, to Frank's astonishment, dropped his bow, and took to his heels. The young hunter could not imagine what had caused his precipitate flight, and just then he did not care. Something had befriended him by frightening the Indian away most opportunely, and Frank improved the respite thus unexpectedly given him, by clasping his legs around the body of the tree, and ascending quickly to the top of the gorge. He did not know what new danger he might meet there, nor did he give the matter a moment's thought. He would certainly have a much better chance for life while standing on the solid ground, where he could fight or run, as circumstances might require, than he had while hanging suspended in the air over the brink of the gorge.

In a few seconds Frank was within reach of the roots of the tree, and drawing in a long breath of relief, he pulled himself over them, and looked cautiously over the top of the bank. Then he saw that the friend who had rescued him from the arrow of the savage, was an enormous grizzly 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 in its topmost branches sat the young warrior, looking down at his shaggy foe, which was walking in a circle around the tree, now and then seating himself on his haunches, and gazing up into it, as if trying to contrive some plan to bring the Indian down to him.

"Hurra for you, grizzly," said Frank, to himself. "You have rendered me a 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 up there for an hour or two, and I'll just take his weapons, and make myself scarce about here. I'll never forget this gully as long as I live."

Frank crawled noiselessly upon the bank, picked up the bow, and the quiver of arrows, possessed himself of the Indian's belt, which contained his knife and tomahawk, and looked about for some means of crossing the gorge without attracting the attention of the grizzly. That was a matter that he need not have troubled himself about, for the bear's quick ear had caught the sound of his footsteps, and, leaving the tree, he turned to attack Frank. He came on at a rapid pace, uttering hideous growls, and looking savage enough to frighten any body. He certainly frightened Frank, who could see but one way of escape, and that was to jump the gully. It was wider now than it was before, but he had a chance for a running start, and he accomplished the feat in safety, to the no small amazement of the Indian, who yelled at him with all 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 the grizzly's company."

But Frank, as it happened, was not yet done with the bear. The animal stopped when he saw that the boy had eluded him, and turned immediately, and ran toward the tree which lay across the gully. Things began to look dark again for the young hunter. If the bear were allowed to cross the gorge, he would, of course, compel him to take refuge in a tree, and there was no knowing how long he might keep him there. He could not forget that there were more Indians not a great way off, and that they had heard the young warrior's yells, and were hastening to his assistance. The grizzly, although he had saved him from the fury of his rival, might, after all, be the cause of his capture.

Frank saw the necessity of prompt action. His first thought was to try an arrow on the bear; but he abandoned the idea when he reflected that the bow was a weapon to which he was not accustomed, and that the chances were not one in ten that his arrow would reach a vital part. The grizzly was already half way across the gorge. The tree shook and bent beneath his weight, and Frank hoped it would break; but he could not afford to trust any thing to luck. He put it out of the animal's power to cross to his side of the gully, and caused his destruction at the same time, by seizing the tree with both hands, and lifting it from its place, and pitching it over the precipice. It fell with a loud crash, carrying with it the bear, which speedily disappeared from his view among the bushes and rocks which covered the sides of the gorge.

Frank, scarcely waiting to see what had become of the grizzly, snatched up the Indian's weapons, and flew down the mountain at the top of his speed, fastening the belt around his waist, and slinging the quiver of arrows over his shoulder as he ran. His mishaps at the gully had consumed a good deal of valuable time, and Frank was now in momentary expectation of hearing the reinforcements, who had been summoned by his rival, bounding along his trail in pursuit. He could not hope to beat full-grown Indian braves in a fair race, but he could, perhaps, elude them, and this he resolved to attempt. He had often heard the trappers describe the plans to which they resorted to throw pursuing Indians off their trail, and the information he had gained from their stories was of value to him now. He walked on every log he could find, jumped from rock to rock, doubled on his trail, and finally he found himself on the banks of a little trout-brook, the course of which he followed for two or three miles, walking in the water all the way. Of course, as he paid no 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, or whether he was distant from it one mile or twenty. But that was a matter that did not trouble him. He was satisfied that he had eluded pursuit for 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 to eat. That was not a difficult task, for there was a trout-brook at his feet, and he had a fish-line, and a flint and steel in his pocket. In half an hour's time a fire was burning brightly on the bank, three large trout, supported on sticks driven into the ground, were roasting before it, and Frank lay stretched out on the grass, watching the fish with a hungry eye, and thinking over his adventures at the gully. He began to be lonesome, and to long for companionship; and his wish was gratified before he was many minutes older, for, when the fish were done to a turn, and he was about to begin his meal, he was startled by the sound of voices and footsteps. He listened intently for a moment, and finding that the sounds grew louder, and that the intruders, whoever they were, were approaching his camp, he caught up his bow and arrows, and darted into the bushes. He had barely time to conceal himself before Black Bill and Adam Brent emerged from a thicket on the opposite side of the brook. The former stopped and looked about him suspiciously when he saw the fire, and the fish roasting before it, and cocked his rifle, as if in momentary expectation of discovering an enemy. A single glance at Adam's face satisfied Frank that he was a prisoner, and not a willing companion of the outlaw.

"Somebody has been campin' thar," said Black Bill; "but I reckon he heered 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 a few minutes' examination of the ground about the fire, struck the butt of 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'm alive," said he, in a tone of voice which indicated that he did not understand 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 of the brook? Thar's where he stood when he ketched them fish. An' here's the 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 we don't find him, some of the Injuns will, most likely; an' even if he aint ketched at all, how much better off is he than he would be with the chief? Thar aint nothing left of Fort Stockton, an' he can't find no friends short of Fort Benton, an' that's a good hundred miles from here."

Frank was lying in the bushes, not more than twenty feet from the outlaw, and distinctly heard every word of the conversation. The information he gained from it destroyed his last hope. The savages had made the attack upon the trading-post during the previous night, and it had been successful. The soldiers and trappers were all massacred or scattered to the four winds of heaven, and he had no friends to look to for assistance within less than a hundred miles. The prospect before him was 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 a dangerous enemy, and how was he to elude him? This question was answered by the outlaw himself, whose actions suggested to Frank another daring project, which he was prompt to carry into execution. Black Bill laid his rifle upon the ground, and kneeled down beside the brook to drink. Scarcely had he taken a swallow of the water, when he heard footsteps behind him, and upon looking up saw Frank standing over him with his bow in his hand, and an arrow pointed straight at his breast.

"Don't move hand or foot," said the young hunter, so excited that he could scarcely speak. "Your game is up."

Adam was no less astonished at Frank's sudden appearance than was the outlaw; but he quickly recovered his presence of mind, and catching up his captor's rifle, leveled it full at his head.

"Surrender, Black Bill!" he exclaimed. "If you attempt to get up I'll send a ball into you."

CAPTURE OF BLACK BILL BY FRANK AND ADAM BRENT

The looks of the weapons were enough to frighten the outlaw into submission. He made no remark, but it was easy enough to see that he was not brave enough to think seriously of attempting resistance.

"Now, Adam," said Frank, "keep him covered with your rifle, and if he shows fight, bang away. I'll soon put it out of his power to do any mischief."

As Frank spoke he produced his fish-line from his pocket, and after doubling it two or three times, passed it around the outlaw's wrists, and tied it securely. The latter, at first, showed a disposition to be ugly, 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 the rifle, and placed its cold muzzle against his temple, quickly brought him to terms. Frank handled the fish-line skilfully, and in a few minutes 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 more at ease than I did ten minutes ago. What's to be done now?"

"The first think is breakfast," replied Frank. "Here are three trout – one apiece; and although they are hardly enough to make a meal for 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. By the 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 the same thing, for I could scarcely go out of the house, unless accompanied by my father. That is the story I promised to tell you, and I will relate it now while we are resting and eating our breakfast. Then I will tell 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 weapons close at their side, and Adam began his story.

CHAPTER IX

ADAM BRENT'S STORY

"I shall try to tell my story," began Adam, "just as my father told it to me, years ago. It is not a long one, and even if it was, I should hurry through it as rapidly as possible, for it is a matter I do not like to talk about. That man," he added, nodding his head toward the outlaw, and speaking as plainly as a mouthful of fish would permit, "is a walking illustration of what bad company will do. He is my uncle, I am sorry to say, but, for a long time, I have never called him by any other name than Black Bill. In my story, however, I shall speak of him as William. I can remember when he was an uncle worth having. I used to run to meet him whenever I saw him coming, would stand at his side for hours listening to the story of his adventures in the mines, and was never easy unless I was in his company. But things have changed of late. I would run away from him now if I saw him coming toward me, and I am much more uncomfortable in his presence than I used to be out of it.

"When I was about six years old, mother and I lived with my grandfather at Placer City, in California. He kept a grocery and provision store, and my father and his brother William owned and worked a claim in the mines. The claim paid well, much better than any other for miles about, and father was steadily growing rich by his labor. William ought to have been equally prosperous, for he received half the profits; but somehow he never had a cent of money in his pocket, but was continually asking assistance from father, of whom he borrowed, first and last, several thousand dollars, which he has never taken the trouble to return. He said he was buying up claims; but when he had a quarrel with a miner about a gambling debt which he could not pay, the truth came out, and father saw where his money had been going. He found out, too, that for months William had been keeping company with some of the very worst men in the mines – gamblers, horse-thieves, and criminals of every sort, who had run away from the States to get out of reach of the law.

"I need not stop to tell you how shocked and pained all the family were when they heard of this, or how they tried, by every means in their power, to make William see what would surely be his end if he did not abandon the life he was leading. Of course, he made promises of amendment, and, for a while, held manfully to them; but it requires moral courage to resist temptation, and that was something William did not possess. It was not long before he was as bad as ever; and when he could go no farther for want of money, he came to father to borrow. Then came the first quarrel between the brothers. Father refused to accede to his demand, and William threatened vengeance. He did not say what he would do, but father knew what he had determined upon, as well as if he had told him in so many words.

"Father had been in the habit of depositing his gold-dust in the safe at the store. William knew it, and was resolved to have that gold-dust. If he could not borrow it, he would steal it. He broke into the store that very night, but found the safe empty. Father had removed every dollar of the money. The noise he made in breaking open the safe aroused grandfather, who slept in a room over the store; and not recognizing William in the darkness, he gave him a shot from his revolver. The ball took effect somewhere, for the next morning there was blood on the floor, and William was nowhere to be found. Every one wondered who the robber could be, and a great many questions were asked about the missing man; for he had been a prominent character in the mines, and his mysterious disappearance excited curiosity. But it did not stop there. That curiosity became suspicion; and it was not long before it was noised abroad that he was the guilty one.

"William kept clear of Placer City forever afterward. The miners had a summary way of dealing with such men, and if they could have found him, the influence of all his friends and relatives combined could not have saved him. It was not long after that before people began to talk about Black Bill – the leader of a band of robbers who infested the mountains between Placer City and Sacramento; and in less than two weeks father fell into his hands. He recognized the chief, if others did not, and you can imagine what his feelings were when he found that he was his own brother. Black Bill robbed him, as he robbed every one else who came in his way, and released him with this warning, as nearly as I can recall the words:

"'You have made me what I am,' said the robber, 'and I will be revenged in a way you do not think of. I shall not lift a hand against you, but keep an eye on that boy of yours. If I get hold of him, I will make him a second Black Bill.'

"That was all the outlaw said, but it was enough to frighten father more than any physical danger would have done; and, as for myself, I might as well have been sent to the State's prison at once, for I could scarcely have been more closely confined there than I was at home. Several attempts to steal me were frustrated by the vigilance of my father, who, becoming weary at last of living in constant fear of losing me, sold out his claim in the mines, and removing to this wild region, erected the house in which we lived until last night, and began business as a fur-trader. It was there he made the acquaintance of Capt. Porter. No sooner had we become fairly settled in our new home, than Black Bill made his appearance; and, although he has occasionally been off on trapping expeditions, he has spent the most of his time for the last ten years in hanging around the valley, watching his opportunity to capture me. He never succeeded, however, until last night; and, as good luck would have it, he was not destined to keep me long."

"O, I haint done with you yet!" exclaimed the outlaw, who had listened attentively to the story. "You're free now, an' I'm a pris'ner; but it won't be so long. I've got plenty of friends roamin' about among these mountains."

"You have found out by this time that the boy you captured last night was not Adam Brent, haven't you?" said Frank. "Where is he now?"

"Who – that spunky little feller? The last time I seed him the Black Fox was marchin' him off to the woods."

"Who's the Black Fox?"

"I should think you had oughter know him purty well by this time. He's the feller you run that race with. I told him that if he would take good care of that boy, an' not let him get away, I would make him a present of that leetle gray hoss of mine."

"That little gray horse doesn't belong to you, as it happens," said Frank. "He's mine."

"I'd like to see you get him. One of my mates, Jack Bowles, has got him safe."

"Well, if I had my other horse – "

Frank was about to say that if he had Roderick, and could catch Jack Bowles out on clear ground, he would show him that he hadn't got Pete quite so safe as he imagined; but he stopped when he reflected that the mustang was a good many miles away, and in the hands of the savages, and that possibly he might never see him again.

"I know where your other horse is," said Adam. "He is in the possession of Dick Lewis. You see, when the trappers learned that Dick had been captured, they went up and attacked the Indian camp, in the hope that during the confusion he might see a chance to get away. That was, probably, the time that Roderick escaped. At any rate, when the trappers returned to the fort, the mustang came with them, and Dick took care of him."

"That's all right," said Frank. "I knew the Indians would never catch Dick. Did you see Bob Kelly?"

"Yes; he was alive and yelling when we cut our way out of the fort."

"I have just thought of something," said Frank, turning to the outlaw. "You said you gave Archie into the keeping of the Black Fox. I met the Fox about three miles back in the mountains, and had a fight with him. What was he doing so far from camp?"

"I don't know," replied the outlaw, looking thoughtfully at the ground. "Mebbe the leetle feller got away from him."

"That's just my idea. Archie escaped, and he was in pursuit of him. If the Fox knows when he is well off, he will get help before he tries to capture him, for Archie is plucky and strong, if he is little. But, Adam, you were going to tell me what happened at the fort."

"There isn't much to tell," was the reply. "The Indians whipped us, and they were not more than an hour in doing it. The trappers, as I told you, left the fort and made an attack on the village, for the purpose of liberating Dick Lewis. Of course, they did not expect to whip the Indians in a fair fight; all they wanted to do was to throw the camp into confusion, and give Dick a chance to do something for himself. But he had already escaped, and about fifteen minutes after the trappers left, he came into the fort, puffing and blowing like a porpoise. The trappers were more successful than they expected to be. Finding the village nearly deserted, they set it on fire, kept up a running fight with the Indians for ten miles; and sixteen out of nineteen returned to the fort in safety. The Indians, in the meantime, must have received reinforcements from somewhere, for they followed close at the trappers' heels; and no sooner had the gates been closed than the fight began.

"You learned something about Indians when they made the attack on your wagon-train, while you were coming across the plains; but you have never been in a regular battle with them, and you can have but a poor idea of the state of affairs in and about that fort during the short time the fight continued. They began operations by setting fire to our house and barns. The fire lighted up the whole valley; and I shall never forget how I felt when I looked over the top of the palisades and saw the savages coming toward us. I had never seen so many Indians before. There must have been a thousand of them; and the determination with which they made and carried on their attack, proved that they had great confidence in their overwhelming numbers, and that they expected an easy victory. They did not waste time in skulking behind trees and shooting at the fort – they came on in a body, like soldiers, approaching so close to the palisades that we could touch them with the muzzles of our guns as we thrust them through the loop-holes. They expected, no doubt, to find the fort in the same defenseless state in which they had seen it in the morning – with the gates gone and the walls broken down; but in this they were disappointed. The major had paid some attention to Captain Porter's warning, and the old trading-post was as strong as it had ever been. That was a fortunate thing for us, for, even as it was, it was all we could do to prevent the savages from affecting an entrance. They fought like tigers, climbing up to the top of the wall and throwing their tomahawks down at the soldiers, and even tearing out the palisades in some places; and I saw more than one Indian cut down with sabers inside the fort. The assault did not continue more than five or ten minutes – of course it seemed much longer to me – and then one of the chiefs set up a yell, and the savages fell back to the cover of the woods to devise some new plan of attack; while we improved the time to repair the damage they had done. I say we, because I count myself in as one of the defenders of the fort. My bullets went as swift and as straight to the mark as anybody's. I had a good rifle and a brace of revolvers; and, although I was excited and frightened, as I believe any other boy would have been under the same circumstances, I was not foolish enough to waste my ammunition, and did not shoot unless a fair mark was presented. I know I hit one Indian, and saved a soldier's life; but I haven't come to that yet.