CHAPTER XXXVI.

UNCLE SAM’S BOYS.

The column of horsemen that was filing at a slow trot through the cañon were, as Pearl had said, not Indians, but palefaces, and with a half cry of joy, Ruth saw that they were troopers, dressed in the uniform of United States cavalry. It was a squadron of less than a score. At their head rode a young and dashing officer of perhaps twenty-five years of age.

At a glance, womanlike, both the girls took in his superb form, splendid seat in the saddle, stylish uniform and broad shoulders, with the straps of a captain thereon. Then they saw his handsome, daring face, with its dark, earnest eyes, and firm mouth, shaded by a dark mustache.

Certainly he was an elegant-looking young officer, and into his frank, noble face the two girls, the daughter of the prairie, and the child of the hills, gazed with admiration and trust.

With surprise upon his features, a pleased surprise he did not attempt to conceal, the young officer drew rein before the two girls, whose horses stood side by side across the cañon, and, respectfully raising his plumed hat, said pleasantly:

“This is an unlooked-for pleasure--meeting ladies in these wild hills.”

“And a particular pleasure, sir, to us, at least to me, for there is certainly need for you and your troopers here,” replied Ruth.

Pearl remained silent, and the young captain again said:

“My instructions were to come into these hills and protect all white settlers. I expected to find here a band of rude miners--certainly not any ladies.”

“I, sir, am the daughter of Captain Ramsey,” said Ruth. “He is the leader of a small party of settlers who came here to establish homes and also dig for gold; this girl I never met until ten minutes ago, when she saved me from a terrible fate--a fate to which death was preferable.”

Ruth Ramsey spoke with exceeding earnestness.

“Indeed!” exclaimed the young officer. “This young lady, then, does not belong to your settlement. Can there be another band of settlers in these hills?”

He asked the question with surprise, gazing with admiration upon Pearl’s lovely face. Pearl flushed slightly, to find herself the object of such ardent notice, and replied:

“I was on my way to warn the palefaces of danger, when I came suddenly upon this lady and Kansas King, the outlaw, who was forcing her to accompany him.”

“Warn the palefaces of danger? Are you not a paleface?” asked the astonished soldier.

“I am a paleface, yes. But I cannot say more than that I was going to tell the settlers that White Slayer and his band are to move to-morrow night upon their forts, and that there is no hope for them unless they at once leave these hills.”

“And you! Are you not in danger?” said Ruth Ramsey earnestly.

“No, I am not in danger; but you must escape from the red devils, who will soon be on the warpath against every paleface who has lately come into the hills.”

“You bring bad news, miss,” said the officer, “and yet I fear true tidings, as I know the bitterness of the Indians to those who would settle here. To-morrow night, you say, they will commence the attack?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And Major Wells will not be up before day after to-morrow, hasten as he may, and I have but fourteen men with me,” was the thoughtful statement.

“You have other troops coming, then, sir?” asked Ruth anxiously.

“Yes, over a hundred troopers; I was merely an advance guard; here, Wentworth, hasten back with all dispatch and ask Major Wells to ride his horses down but that he reaches here to-morrow night.”

The captain turned to a horseman who was half scout, half soldier, and a bold-looking fellow, who promptly replied:

“I’ll fetch him, Captain Archer, if hoofs can make it!”

“Do so, Wentworth, and bring him to this point, do you hear?”

“Aye, aye, sir!” and away dashed the courier at full speed.

“Now, young ladies,” said the officer, “there is but one thing for me to do, and that is to go secretly into camp near here and await the attack upon the fort, and then endeavor to make the redskins believe a large force of cavalry has come to the assistance of the settlers. Were the Indians to know that I had but my present force they would not fear me, so I beg that you keep my presence in the hills a secret, and in the time of need I will be on hand. My orders, Miss Ramsey, are to protect the lives of the settlers.”

“I will guide you to a safe place, sir, where you could conceal a hundred men,” Pearl volunteered.

Then she considerately added:

“We should first see this lady home.”

“True. Miss Ramsey, we will ride with you to within a short distance of your camp,” replied the young officer.

The cavalcade at once moved off, Pearl guiding, and as they rode along the two girls and the young officer chatted pleasantly together. At length the stockade was visible, and the party halted, while Ruth, after bidding adieu to the captain, kissed her new-found friend and rode on alone.

Then away dashed Pearl, side by side with the captain, and behind came the troopers riding in Indian file. A gallop of two miles brought them to one of those gorges so common in the Black Hills, and into this Pearl led the way until they came to a small glen, fertile and well watered.

“Here you can rest secure, sir. If there is any change in the plans of the Indians, I will come and let you know,” said she.

Then she made known to the officer all that had transpired, with which the reader is already acquainted. In surprise and astonishment, the young man listened: and then said kindly, taking her hand:

“The settlers have much to thank you for, miss, I assure you, and it is noble of you to thus warn them of danger, at the risk of your life, for I feel that you are an inmate of the village of the Sioux to thus know their plans. This, I hope, will not be our last meeting, and in full sincerity I say, if in any way I can befriend you, command me. My name is Edwin Archer, and I am a captain of cavalry, now on the prairie border.”

Pearl made no reply, waved her hand pleasantly, and away bounded her steed on the return to the Indian village.