Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 188 — page 2: what you’re looking at

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Ned Boy. a ———_—_ -_—_— -- eee ee —— ee —_—--—— Temple, the Border eae ee THE BORDER BOY: The Mad Hunter of Powder River. A Romance of Montana, BY T. C. HARBAUGH, wraor or “NICK O’ THE NIGHT,’ ‘* HIDDEN LODGE,” “ NIGHTINGALE NAT,"’ “* DANDY JACK,”’ ‘‘ KiT HARE woor,”’ ‘MIDNIGHT JACK,’ ‘“‘KIOWAY CHARLEY,”’ *‘ OLD FRrosTY,’’ **GOLD TRIGGER,” ‘‘ TORNADO TOM,” ETC., ETC. CHAPTER I. ABANDONED. ALONG and delightful summer day was tak- ing its departure when two horses emerged from the waters of Powder River in Montana a short ‘distance below the site of Fort Reno. The animals showed signs of fatigue, and when they struck the firm earth of the river bank they would have stopped if their riders had not ar them forward. The next minute will tell the tale, Cyrille,” aaid one of the riders addressing his companion. “T cannot think that Uncle Sam has authorized this cowardly abandonment of his outposts, No! I am certain that to-night we will sleep be- neath the stars and stripes of Fort Reno.” ‘*T hope—I trust so,” was the answer. ‘I y Heaven that we have not been abandoned this death-land of Sioux and Crow.” “Tf we have been may the vengeance of Heaven overtake the man who did it.” The lips of the speaker,a boy of seventeen, elosed behind the last word, and, enraged at the thought,he struck his horse with the spurs and dashed away. His companion, a young girl as beautiful as the flowers of the plains, followed him closely, and a minute later the two gained the top of a _grassy knoll at the same time. For a second they looked northward, and then acry of astoniskment escaped the boy’s lips, and the face of the girl grew deathly white. “The fiend has exhibited his heartlessness. Look! Cyrille, Fort Reno, like the other two, has been abandoned, and the torch and toma- hawk have destroyed all that the soldiers left behind! Thornton Hardinge, may the fates curse you—curse you!” The girl, Cyrille, remained silent, but the look that rested on the lone and blackened spot over which a few days before she had seen the stars and stripes wave proudly, was full of the helplessness of despair. otso the boy’s. ** We'll go down and see,” he said. ** May be,” remarked Cyrille, sponkitig for the ‘first time in along while, ‘‘ may be the Indians attacked the fort and took it. To know that _sguch was the case would be preferable to believ- imy that he left me to the mercy of Red Cloud and bis red warriors.” “Which is just what he has done, as you will soon discover,” declared the youth. They rode down the knoll and toward tho where they had expected to see Fort o. As they advanced they crossed the road that led to Fort Fetterman, in the far south, and the boy’s quick eyes detected the fresh mark of wagon-wheels on its surface. ‘Just as I told you,” he said, pointing down- ward. ‘‘The fort has been voluntarily aban- douved by the regular troops.” Further evidences of wholesale desertion awaited them a little further on. They drew rein on what was the parade square within the walls of Fort Reno. It was now eovered with blackened timbers, officers’ barracks, the stockades, and so forth. The half- burned flagstaff had fallen to the south, its tip pointing toward Ietterman. : The Indians had destroyed the empty post; unable to take the scalps of the garrison, they head applied the torch to everything combus- Several days must have elapsed since the red- skins’ visit, for the ruicrs were smokeless and @uite cold. Slowly the sun went down while the aban- dened pair silently contemplated the ruins of Fort Reno. They knew that forts Phil Kearney on the Piney, and C. F. Smith on the Big Horn, had Indian rule and ruin one of the richest countries on the face of the globe. ‘*T never liked hisse | the boy, turning so suddenly that Cyrille started. *‘ 1 told you last winter that, if he was your uncle, he was a man who would bear watching. Now, what do you say? He knew we were to leave Buford on the 9th. Why did he not send a Crow scout to meet us with the news of Reno’s abandonment? Or, why did he not stay here until we came? I tell you, Cy- rille, he is a bad man and—pardon me!l—a villain who disgraces the Government blue he wears.” Cyrille Averill did not resent the epithet be- stowed upon her relative; but her eyes’ seemed to flash and her hands closed madly. ‘‘] never liked him,” she confessed. ‘‘I al- ways thought that my uncle Thornton would bear watching.” ‘‘Ay, that he will! But look! it is getting dark.” Cyrille for the first time seemed to notice this; the fire-scarred timbers were no longer distin- guishable; it was a mass of dark ruins that sur- rounded them. ‘‘-Yonder is the Fort Fetterman trdil,” said the boy, pointing southward. ‘The garrison is two or three days ahead of us. Shall we follow?’ ‘‘ What is behind us?” ‘‘Indians! Red Cloud and his bloodthirsty cutthroats.” **Might they not be between us and Fort Fet- terman?”’ ‘‘Yes. I am not going to try to conceal from you the fact that just now we are probably the only white yap in this vicinity. We are in the midst of the hostile country. The lands of the Sioux areon every hand. Weare environed by death, Cyrille, for which you can blame your uncle, Thornton Hardinge.” ‘‘He is my uncle no longer!” cried the girl, “but a villain of the deepest dye, always a plot- ter, and a man who would stoop to anything to gain his ends.” The boy’s eyes flashed with triumph. ‘‘That’s the way I like to hear her talk,” he thought to himself. ‘‘ When she hates that man as I do, then I will cease to fear him.” A few minutes later the deserted pair had dismounted, and the boy had built a shelter for his fair companion. few boards that had escaped the savage fire, sufficed for this, and the long grass in which the Powder River country abounds made a downy cot for her. The horses, hoppled, were enjoying the rich provender of the country, and the youthful cou- ple tried to find a meal among the dry victuals which they had carried-for several days. They had hoped to eat at the mess-tables of Fort Reno; but, instead, they were supping among its ruins, and with the ground for a table. Their sense of loneliness was hightened by the long hoot of the Montana owl, that came up from the river foliage, and tben the dismal howl of the prairie wolf assailed their ears. ‘‘We shall not want for neighbors,” Cyrille remarked with a faint smile, as she looked up into Ned Temple’s face. ‘‘ But they will not find us here to-morrow night.” “They must not, If we had not dismissed our Crow guides we would be on the way to Fetterman, or back to Buford at sunrise. But now—now, Cyrille, we are abandoned here, and for a purpose, too!’ The girl gave the speaker a look of wonder. ‘Yes; for a purpose,” he repeated. ‘* He— Thornton Hardinge—wanted you deserted in the Sioux country. He never wants to see your face again, and me—well, before he dies he will wish a thousand times that Ned Temple had never crossed the Missouri. He isn’t alone in his villainy, Cyrille. He mustn’t receive credit for all the ingenious ideas that he pro- mulgates; there is a power behind the throne, a man who is his equal in rascally doings.” “To whom do you refer?’ ‘“‘Can you not guess?” Before the girl could reply, the sound of hoofs and the whinny of a strange horse, caused the boy to spring up, and a moment later she was at his side, gazing breathlessly toward the south. Maybe Thornton Hardinge was coming back? A full round moon was in the heavens when the sun went down, and its beams were falling upon the ruins and their surrouhdiogs. But Ned Temple and his companion stood in the shadow of one of the remnants of Reno’s walls, been abandoned, for during their journey from | and were waiting snxiously for the borseman. Fort Buford, Indian scouts had so informed them. He presently came in sight right between And now Reno had shared the same | them ani the silvery disk of the moon, and fate, and the Government had abandoned to! there reined in his steed. | A quaint-looking fellow he was, slim as an arrow, and as straight os one, with an old Thornton Hardinge,” almost | slouched hat on his head, and a clear-cut, He sat on bis horse about forty feet trom the eager watchers, and seemed to be surveying the ruins of tue fort, ‘May I eatch the cbicken-pox afore next Chris mas, ef they hevn’t pulled up stakes an’ lit out!” said a clear, falsetto voice. ‘‘ They took everything, not even a sick pony left be- hind,” and the man seemed to laugh at his own words. ‘*Uncle Sam war a tarnal fool fer buildin’ the forts hyar in the first place; but if he didn’t intend to hold ’em, why did be build em? The li:juns hev full swing in the Powder river kentry now. Red Cloud an’ his devils will hev to go to scalpin’ crows an’ snakes; thar ar’ no soldiers left to scalp. But ’m hyar— hyar in the corruption an’ the ills ov the flesh— I'am, by hokey!” and he bestowed an emphatic slap on his horse’s neck, ‘‘I war hyar last week, but not a word was said about pullin’ up stakes,” he went on. ‘‘ They didn’t want me to go with ’em. I war to be left hyar for seed; yes, that’s it—left fer seed! ha! ba! ha!” and w easel face. the gaunt fellow lifted himself in the stirru and laughed till the river timber caught up echo, ** Who is he?” whispered Cyrille. ‘‘Some wild man,” said Ned. “I guess we don’t want to make his acquaintance.” ‘*No! no! he looks like those whisky-traders of Fort Buford, and they are worse than In- dians.” ‘‘Wal, if I’ve been left fer seed I'll jest take root an’ grow in this confounded kentry,” con- tinued the strange individual. ‘“‘Vll go up on the Rosebud whar I kin find plenty ov wild- cats an’ Injuns. By hokey! I hevn’t killed a wildcat fer three days, nor an Injun fer four, an’ I’m losin’ flesh in consequence. Three wild- cats an’ two Injuns per day ar’ my natural allowance—the cais ar’ to be taken in doses ov one, the Injuns all at once.” Ned Tem ple could not repress a smile at the remarks of the singular man who believed him- self alone among the blackened ruins of Fort no, ‘‘ 1d like to know what he calls himself?” he thought, ‘‘I may have heard of him before to- night.” ‘‘T must be goin’. The ground is softer up on the Rosebud, an’I kin plant myself thar with- out much diffikilty. Old Sam Wildcat—” Ned lost the rest of the sentence in the light cry that welled from Cyrille’s throat. ‘‘ For mercy’s sake don’t let bim see me!” she said. ‘Sam Wildcat? Well doI recollect the name and the man. He is the same man who came to Fort Buford last spring and offered me four bleeding Indian scalps for a kiss, and I got rid of his insults only by dashing a lot of boiling water into his face. Oh, the mad look he gave me as he left! And he is here now, like an evil spirit, and at the moment when Thorn- ton Hardinge has abandoned us to the mercy of the buman wolves that people this country.’ The sight of the man among the ruins filled the girl with terror, and Ned’s arm led her back to the shelter he had ay built for her. As he left her he heard Sam Wildcat’s voice again. a? Injuns! Maybe they’ll give me a chance to take my reg’lar dose ov blood purifier.” He planedd at Cyrille. She had heard all ‘‘ Better the Sioux than that man!” she mur- mured. All at once Sam Wildcat disappeared and a minute afterward two Indians mounted on ponies, occupied the ground just deserted, — Ned saw the Jong leathern straps adorned with pieces of tin that hung from their scalp- locks, and knew that they were Sioux war- riors. Suddenly the crack of a rifle startled the young spectator, and one of the Indians, reeling from his buffalo blanket, struck the ground to stagger forward and fall dead at Cyrille’s very feet. The young girl shrunk back with a cry as the remaining savage, witha mad yell, dashed _to- ward the marksman, now, of course, invisible. Ned held his breath. He seemed to be think- ing that Sam Wildcat was waiting for the second Indian not far off. His thoughts were swiftly confirmed, for a loud ery suddenly rent the air, aud the words “Thar! Pve taken my reg’lar dose!” told him that another Sioux warrior had been wiped out, ‘“Now lam goin’,” continued Sam Wildcat; ‘‘)]] pay my respects to the rest at some future time, but no more Injun in mine at present, if you please.” Ecomicbooks (E (E()