CHAPTER XLIII.

A TRAITOR IN CAMP.

Upon the banks of a small stream, and beneath the shelter of a few scattering trees, a large wagon train was encamped during the night on which the scenes related in the foregoing chapter transpired.

There were fully half a hundred wagons, their covers, once snow-white, now stained brown by exposure and travel; while, staked out upon the prairie, were herds of horses and cattle, enjoying the rich grass.

The wagons were encamped in a crescent form, with each end of the crescent resting upon the river bank. Within the space thus inclosed a score of bright camp fires were shedding their ruddy light far across the prairie.

Through the camp was a scene of busy life, the preparation of the evening meal being the principal duty in progress.

There appeared to rest upon all a shade of sadness, for from their number two were missing, and around their camp fires their absence was sorely felt. A few hours before, they had started forth for a gallop over the prairies, and a scout coming in reported that they had been captured by a band of Sioux Indians.

But what could be done? Night was coming rapidly on; it was camping time, and until the next day no move for their recovery could be made, for it was impossible to follow the trail of the Indians in the darkness.

The wagon train consisted of a dozen families, their teamsters and guides, moving from the boundaries of civilization to the prairies of the Far West, there to build new homes.

With one family particularly, among these daring pioneers, we will have to become friends, for they will occupy no inferior place in this romance of life on the far frontier.

In that family were five persons, consisting of Major Austin Conrad, his wife, a sad-faced matron of forty-five, a son of twenty-two, Gerald Conrad, and a daughter of seventeen, the joyous and beautiful Sibyl.

Then there was a niece of the major, and his ward, Ruth Whitfield, a dashing, brilliant-looking brunette of twenty, who had been a belle in her native city, until financial reverses had reduced her once proud parents to want, and cast her upon the bounty of her uncle.

Major Conrad was an ex-army officer, who in early life had seen much service on the frontier, but at length married his cousin and settled down to private life and the enjoyment of his riches.

But reverses had at last befallen him and he was almost crushed beneath his sorrows and misfortunes, until his brave wife begged that he would leave the scene of his troubles and find a new home far in the Western country.

New life seemed instilled into the major at the thought, and two months after found him en route for a home on the border, accompanied by his wife, his children, and his niece.

Joining a westward moving train, they decided to accompany the emigrants, and the major, upon account of his military experience and former knowledge of the country, was made the captain of the expedition.

Without serious mishap the train had proceeded on its way for many miles, and then it came into a country where the pioneers felt that danger was upon every hand.

But, undaunted, they pressed on, well knowing that if they could once get a foothold and establish a settlement, they would be able to bid defiance to all troublesome bands of Indians as well as to the desperate band of the Branded Brotherhood, who, rumor said, warred upon all settlers on the frontier.

They had met with their first serious mishap in the capture of Sibyl Conrad and Howard Lawrence, the latter a young man who had joined the train before it departed from Kansas City, and who, by his genial manners and undisputed courage, had won the esteem of every one in the pioneer band.

Sibyl and Howard Lawrence had ridden forth to look up a good camping ground for the night.

A returning hunter had reported that they had been suddenly surrounded and captured by a band of Sioux warriors.

After witnessing their capture, the hunter had concealed himself in a motte until the Indians had disappeared with their prisoners, and then had brought to the train the startling news.

Slowly the night passed away in the camp on the stream. With the first glimmer of day in the east all were up and busy, for a band of twenty horsemen, led by Major Conrad and guided by the hunter, who had seen the capture of Sibyl and Howard Lawrence, were preparing to start forth to the rescue.

Suddenly a cry of alarm was heard. The guards reported a body of horsemen approaching, and through the dim morning light a small cavalcade was indistinctly visible.

Nearer and nearer they came. Then the cry of alarm turned to one of joy, for the forms of Sibyl Conrad and Howard Lawrence were recognized, accompanied by one other, a tall, splendid-looking horseman, followed by a number of led animals.

Quickly the cry of the guards was taken up. Then through the entire encampment resounded the notes of joy. When the party rode up, a ringing welcome awaited them, and their friends gathered around in delight at their return.

Instantly Sibyl was folded in the arms of her parents, and warm grasps met the hand of Howard Lawrence, who, in a few words, told of their brave rescue at the hands of the army scout.

“You are, then, Buffalo Bill?” said Major Conrad, advancing quickly and gazing intently into the face of the man before him, and upon whom every eye was now turned with admiration, for his wonderful career was known far and wide.

“I am called Buffalo Bill, sir,” was the quiet reply, “and I am glad to have saved your daughter, Major Conrad; but, can I ask, as I learn you are destined for the headwaters of the Republican, why I find you bearing so much out of your way to the southward?”

The scout spoke modestly, and as if anxious to turn the conversation from himself.

“We are under the guidance of an experienced plainsman, sir. Yonder he comes, now,” replied Major Conrad.

The scout turned around at the words of the officer and glanced in the direction of the coming man.

It was the hunter and the guide of the train--a man of almost giant frame, attired in a suit of buckskin, and with a face scarred in such a manner by a knife cut across the nose and cheek as to give it a most forbidding expression.

One glance at the hunter, and Buffalo Bill exclaimed:

“What! That man your guide? Red Dick, do you know me?”

With a bound the scout was in front of the hunter, whose brown face turned white, and whose eyes lighted up with a malicious expression, as he said savagely:

“A man who has left a mark on me such as I bear is not soon forgotten, I’ll take my Bible oath.”

Instantly the giant hunter drew a long knife and stood at bay, as though expecting an attack, while the scout quickly drew his own keen blade and appeared as if about to advance upon him.

“Hold, guide! Hold, sir. There must be some mistake here, for this man has been a most faithful guide and was strongly recommended to us,” and Major Conrad stepped forward between the two men.

“There is no mistake, Major Conrad,” said Buffalo Bill. “This man is a renegade desperado, and we have met before, as he well knows. Stand aside, please, and let Red Dick meet me.”

A step nearer the scout advanced, his eyes ablaze and fastened upon Red Dick, who somewhat nervously awaited the expected attack, which now appeared most imminent, for none present seemed called upon to interfere.

But, suddenly, a slight and graceful form glided in between the two men, and the hand of Sibyl Conrad was laid upon the arm of Buffalo Bill.

“Surely, one so brave, so noble, would not stain his hand unnecessarily with blood in the presence of women and children.”

The face of the scout flushed, his knife was lowered immediately, and he replied in deep, earnest tones:

“Lady, I am glad you recalled me to myself. But you do not know the accursed life of this man, or you would hardly plead for him; but it shall be as you request.”

Then, turning to his burly enemy, the scout continued sternly:

“Red Dick, this lady has prevented an encounter that should have ended in your death or mine. Now I bid you leave this camp.”

The giant hunter turned an earnest look into his foe’s face, and, reading there only deadly determination, said:

“I’ll go now, scout, ’cause you hold the winning card; but Red Dick will be on your trail hot in the future.”

So saying, he wheeled away, walked to one of the wagons, and, taking his rifle and accouterments, mounted his tall, raw-boned horse and departed, leaving Buffalo Bill master of the situation.

But hardly had the huge form of the exiled horse and rider disappeared over a roll in the prairie when suddenly he reappeared, and at his back rode over a hundred mounted Sioux warriors, who came rushing down upon the train with discordant yells and the war cries of their tribe.