CHAPTER XXX.

PEARL’S WARNING.

For some moments after the departure of her father and White Slayer, Pearl stood in silent meditation, as though undecided what course to pursue. At length her mind seemed made up, and she started down the glen.

But she had not taken a second step before she came to a sudden halt, for not twenty paces from her she beheld a man who had stepped from behind a large bowlder and advanced toward her.

At first Pearl seemed about to run, but checking this determination, she stood on the defensive, with her rifle half raised to her shoulder.

“I am a friend, miss, and the captain sent me back to give this to your father.”

The man halted near her and held out his hand as if to give her something. He was a burly-looking fellow, clad half in buckskin, half in homespun, and was heavily armed with revolvers and knife. His face was wholly corrupt; in it there was not one redeeming expression. Pearl did not like his looks, and said suspiciously:

“What captain do you refer to?”

“Kansas King. I am his lieutenant, and am called Burke, miss.”

“Bad Burke, is it not?” said Pearl quietly.

“Well, my enemies do call me Bad Burke, miss, but it is because I am a bad hand with the knife, and no man dare meet me with it; but my friends don’t call me Bad Burke.”

“Your friends? Why, I should not think a man like you had a single friend,” Pearl declared boldly.

The face of Bad Burke turned livid with rage. His iron muscles seemed to swell up with suppressed emotion, while his evil eyes glittered like a snake’s. But, controlling himself, he forced a laugh, and answered:

“Yes, miss, even a poor devil like me has friends; but here is the paper the captain sent to your father.”

He again held forth his hand. Pearl reached forth to take what she believed to be a small scrap of paper. Her hand was seized in the iron grip of Bad Burke, who instantly drew her toward him.

Before she could offer the slightest resistance or cry out, his hard palm was over her mouth, and she was held as firmly as though in a vise. But suddenly she saw a dark object descending from a ledge of rock fifteen feet above her.

This dark object struck the burly ruffian fairly on the shoulders and knocked him to the ground. The dark object that had descended so suddenly from the rock, and lighted upon the back of Bad Burke, was a man--one who did not lose his equilibrium by his jump, but caught on his feet, and stood ready, with drawn knife and pistol, to face the outlaw lieutenant.

When released from the grasp of the ruffian, Pearl sprang backward, and again seized her rifle, which she turned upon the outlaw lieutenant.

“Hold! Do not shoot him. Let him come on and face me with his knife, for he boasted a moment since that no man dare face him.”

“In Satan’s name, who are you?” cried Bad Burke, his hand upon his knife hilt.

“Buffalo Bill!”

It was evident that Bad Burke had heard the name before, for his hand quickly slipped from his knife hilt toward a pistol butt.

“Just move one inch, aye, crook your finger, and I’ll send your soul to perdition.”

The pistol of Buffalo Bill covered the heart of the outlaw, who whined out:

“Pard, you’ve the advantage of a fellow and ought to let up a little.”

“I will; miss, will you be kind enough to remove the pistols from that villain’s belt?”

Pearl instantly stepped forward and did as directed, making a motion with the weapons as if about to murder the frightened lieutenant of bandits.

“Thank you; now, Bad Burke, we stand on an equal footing,” and Buffalo Bill cast his pistols upon the ground.

With a suppressed yell of rage Bad Burke rushed upon his cool enemy, for now he believed he had it all his own way, as his boast was not an idle one regarding his prowess with a knife.

Calmly the scout met his attack. The blades clashed together with an ominous ring. Notwithstanding his skill and strength, Bad Burke was hurled backward, and seized in the powerful grip of the scout, whose keen knife gleamed in the sunlight, and then, with a crunching thud, was driven to the hilt in the outlaw’s heart. A stifled groan, and Bad Burke’s cruel life had ended.

With bated breath Pearl had stood and watched the deadly encounter between Buffalo Bill and Bad Burke. Notwithstanding her apparent fear, the outlaw had been in double danger, for, had there been the slightest sign that victory would fall to him, the girl had her rifle ready to do its deadly work.

“You are from one of the camps of the white men?” she asked.

“Yes,” the scout answered.

“I was on my way to find them. Your life and the lives of your friends are in danger,” simply replied the girl.

“My life is ever in danger. You were going to warn us of danger, you say?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Where did you expect to find us?” the scout inquired.

“At the miners’ stronghold, far down the glen.”

“It is miles away, and your feet would have tired with their long walk.”

“I am accustomed to long walks over the hills, sir.”

“Are you not afraid of danger meeting you?” the scout questioned.

“No, sir; I have little fear.”

“Yet just now you were powerless in the hands of a ruffian.”

“Very true. I thank you for saving me from him.”

She looked at the dead outlaw with a shudder.

“You are a brave girl and deserve a different fate from lingering here in these hills, and living the life of a hermitess.”

“Oh, I would so love to go away,” she declared. “But, sir, you must not stay here, for any moment some warriors may pass, and your life would certainly be the forfeit.

“I was going to warn you of danger, because I did not wish to see you and your paleface friends massacred, and now I have double cause for saving you.”

Her expressive face showed that she was very much in earnest.

“Oh, sir, fly from these hills, you and your friends, for even now the Sioux are assembling all their braves to attack you, and he that is called Kansas King will side with the Indians in the war against you.”

“From my heart I thank you,” said the scout. “But I know all that you would tell me. Not ten minutes ago I was on that ledge and saw and heard all that passed between your father, the White Slayer, and Kansas King.”

The girl was very much surprised, but answered:

“I am glad you heard it; but you will leave these hills?”

“No; we will show Kansas King and his Indian allies that we will not be driven from the Black Hills by fear of them,” and Buffalo Bill spoke with bitter determination.

“Oh, what a terrible slaughter will follow!” she exclaimed. “How I wish I could aid you, sir.”

“You can. You can aid me.”

“And how? Tell me, and I will do all in my power,” said Pearl earnestly.

“To-morrow is the meeting between Kansas King and your father. Yonder ledge is a secret spot where you can hide, and you can reach it from the hill above. I want to know the plans to be arranged between your father and the outlaw chief, and to-morrow night, just after sunset, I will meet you here.”

“I understand, sir, and I will do as you wish me to; but, tell me, please, are you Buffalo Bill, the scout?”

“I am so called, but why do you ask?”

“Because I have so often heard the Sioux warriors speak of you, and how terrible you were in battle; numbers have gone forth upon your trail, boasting they would return with your scalp, and though many warriors have gone, you still wear your scalp lock, and many of those braves have not returned.”

“Perhaps they are looking for me in the happy hunting grounds,” said Buffalo Bill. “Now I must be off; and remember--to-morrow night I will meet you; but, tell me, can I not cross this hill and strike the valley beyond?”

“Yes, sir; but, oh! Do not go through that valley,” implored Pearl, with earnest manner.

“And why, child? Are the redskins numerous there?”

“Oh, no, sir; an Indian would not enter that valley for a girdle of scalp locks, and even my father dare not go there.”

“Why? Is it such a terrible place?”

The girl glanced cautiously around her, slightly shuddered, then in a whisper replied:

“A spirit haunts the valley, sir.”

“A spirit? Nonsense!”

“No, sir! Oh, no; it is the spirit of a woman dressed in white; she haunts it day and night, and when the moon is bright she sings wild songs----”

“Go on with your story,” he urged; “tell me all you know about the haunted valley.”

“What shall I tell you, sir?” innocently asked Pearl.

“When was this spirit first seen?”

“Five years ago, ever since the paleface’s grave was in the valley, the spirit has been seen at times; but no warrior dare go near the valley, and those who were bold enough to go where the specter dwells have never returned.”

“Do you know anything about the grave in the valley?”

“No, sir; the Indians say a man was slain there by the spirit, for the grave lies just at the entrance of the haunted valley; but my father thinks that two paleface hunters came into the hills after gold, and one killed the other and buried him there.”

“I thank you, Pearl, for the warning you have given me about the haunted valley; but I am going to the Ramsey settlement, and it will save me many a mile to go through the glen, and I will risk seeing the spirit. Remember, to-morrow night I will meet you, and you had better not mention that you know anything of the death of Bad Burke here.”

“No, sir, I will not speak of it,” she promised; “but please do not go through the haunted valley.”

“Have no fear; good-by!”

So saying, the scout turned and walked to his horse, which was hidden not far away, and then rode down the glen, while Pearl, delighted at having warned him of danger, yet dreading to have him risk his life in the spirit valley, walked with rapid steps back to her cabin, determined to discover the plans of her wicked father to bring ruin and death upon the palefaces who had invaded the Black Hills.