CHAPTER XXIV. CHASED BY THE FLAMES.

The welcome that greeted the Border King upon his return to Fort Advance was proof of his popularity, and of the admiration the garrison held him in. That his coolness and wisdom had saved the paymaster’s money-box from capture by the bandits, and so made it unnecessary for the boys in blue to endure another long wait for their pay, added not a little to their feeling for the scout.

The troopers had told the story in full. Captain Hinkley and his guard had been buried, and the coach-driver, as well. The soldiers had a most revengeful feeling toward Boyd Bennett and his outlaw band, and Danforth went back to Resistence with his troop, threatening slaughter for the road-agents if he could catch them.

The activities of the Indians, however, disturbed Buffalo Bill and the commander of Fort Advance more than the work of the outlaw, at just this time. The Border King, with Texas Jack, set out on a mission soon after his return to the fort. Ten days later Lieutenant Danforth, with a squadron of men, was allowed to make an attempt to bring in Boyd Bennett by the commandant of Post Resistence.

Buffalo Bill was still away on his scouting expedition and did not know of this. He was deep in the Indian country, and had found nothing of real significance regarding any concerted movement among the Sioux, although there was plenty of excitement. Little bands of warriors were going back and forth, from encampment to encampment; but nothing was being accomplished by the redskins.

“What does it look like to you, old man?” queried the Border King of his partner. “Are we barking up the wrong tree?”

“Dunno,” replied Texas Jack, pursing up his lips and looking more serious than usual. “There may be a coon in the crotch; but we certainly haven’t shook him down.”

“How does all this running back and forth from teepee to teepee strike you?”

“Looks like the reds was given more tuh society than us’al, Buffler. But, Great Scott! you can’t never tell what’s in a red’s mind when he’s planning some game.”

“There is surely no outbreak planned for the immediate future, eh?”

“No. These runners aren’t gathering the tribe. I reckon Oak Heart got his belly full and won’t trouble us for some time.”

“But this new medicine-man they’ve got?”

“Humph! Death Killer, eh? Nice name that! I’d like a squint at him.”

“Me, too.”

“Wonder if we couldn’t sneak over to Oak Heart’s town and take this Death Killer into camp?”

“Kidnap him?”

“Yep.”

“You’re a cool one, Jack, my boy. What’ll the reds be doing meanwhile?”

“That’s all that stops me--that question,” replied Texas, with a grin.

This conversation took place beside a running brook, in the heart of a great forest many miles from Fort Advance, where our story first opened. The wind soughed through the tree tops and brought scurrying to earth the dying leaves which proclaimed the fast approach of King Winter. Suddenly Cody rose upon his feet and keenly snuffed the air.

“What’s th’ matter, Bill? What d’yer scent?”

“I’ve been smelling it for an hour, Jack.”

“What is it?”

“Smoke.”

“Huh! here’s wood burning at your feet.”

“No, no!” exclaimed the other. “This breeze is rising and is blowing more steadily than it did. And it brings the smoke to us. Look up through the tree tops. D’ye see how hazy it’s grown?”

“Umph-ah!”

“Nothing to fool over, Jack. It’s a big fire.”

“D’yer believe so, Bill?”

“I do, indeed,” said the anxious scout.

Texas Jack cast his eyes about the forest aisles reflectively. He knew as well as his companion the peril attending a forest fire; but he was naturally of a more volatile character, and the discovery made less impression upon him at first.

“We’d better make a break, hadn’t we, Bill?” he asked finally.

“Just think a bit, Jack,” the other replied. “Where’ll we go? Do you realize that this crick is the biggest body of water in a circle of forty miles?”

“If my hoss kin make Black River, yours kin, I reckon.”

“True enough. But the wind is blowing directly from Black River. That’s where the fire is, old man. The nearest water of any size is Bendigo Lake, and the going will be thundering hard on the horses.”

Texas Jack leaped up and exclaimed:

“Hark! what’s that?”

A crashing in the underbrush had startled both men. Some distance away there burst into the glade a fine herd of deer, all running madly. They swept across the scouts’ line of vision and disappeared in another clump of brush, keenly alive to peril in their rear.

“They’ve come a power of a ways in the last half-hour, Jack,” said Buffalo Bill.

“Right you are, Buffler. Guess we’d better light out. Ha! there goes a grayback.”

A lone wolf slunk through the underbrush, gave the two men a sharp look, and then loped away in the same direction as that followed by the deer. But he was not running the deer--oh, no, indeed!

Soon other animals began to drift past the camp of the scouts. The two packed their war-bags, caught their mounts, and prepared to leave the vicinity in short order. By that time, although the evening was closing in, the sky was a mass of ruddy, drifting haze. The fire was advancing with terrific speed, yet it was still so far away that the smoke floated high above the tree tops, and they heard no sound.

“Reckon we kin make it, Bill,” said Texas Jack, as they pricked their mounts along the forest path.

Buffalo Bill was not so sanguine, however. The fire was coming down upon them with terrific speed, for instead of deepening the evening brightened all about them as they rode. The odor of burning wood was now quite pungent, and past them in mad flight went all manner of small animals, while now and then the startled “woof! woof!” of a bear was heard in the brush as he, too, lumbered along.

The paths of the forest were not cleared for riding. Deer and other animals, searching drinking-places and salt-licks, first made these traces through the wilderness. The red man followed, following the spoor of the game. And so the paths became “runways,” sometimes worn knee-deep and only wide enough for a single person to pass. Such paths were of little use to horsemen.

Where the forest was open or clear of underbrush, the two scouts could travel with some rapidity; but in the thick, junglelike scrub, it was even necessary at times to get down and lead their horses. This delayed them, and before long the smoke wraiths began to drift past them and the distant roaring of the flames was perceptible.

Had the men given the horses their heads the animals would have become panic-stricken like the other dumb beasts, and they would have dashed through the forest at a much better pace; but Buffalo Bill and Texas Jack would have been swept from the saddles, and, perhaps, killed. It began to look, indeed, as though both horses and men could get along better and faster alone. Texas remarked upon this fact.

“I know it, Jack--I know it,” said Cody. “But I don’t want to lose Chief. And then, we can’t carry all our plunder and make any time at all.”

“Life’s sweeter to me than either hoss or rifle,” declared Texas, laughing.

“Me, too; but it may be a week before we catch the brutes.”

“I vote we let ’em go. It’s getting derned hard to manage them, anyway, Buffler.”

“So it is. Keep your grub, Texas.”

“Betcher!”

Both men were off their mounts in a hurry. They left their magazine guns in the saddle scabbards, and their holster pistols as well. If the Indians or any ne’er-do-well whites found the horses after the fire, they would make quite a haul.

Jack’s horse plunged away, snorting to be free, and was quickly out of sight; but Chief seemed uncertain whether to leave his master or not. The scouts did not delay an instant, but started off at a sharp run through the forest, with their packs on their backs. They could dodge under the low branches and burst through the brush-clumps, or avoid them altogether, with much more facility than before.

Chief ran whinnying after them. Suddenly out of the yellow haze above the tree tops a blazing ball of leaves or such light flotsam, floated down. It fell between the white horse and the two men, and Chief snorted and leaped aside. Fortunately the firebrand went out without igniting any of the leaves or twigs which rustled so dryly under foot, but the flame evidently spoiled Chief’s desire to keep with the men. He kicked up his heels and dashed away in the same direction as his mate.

Buffalo Bill and Texas Jack noted this brand, but they said nothing, only increasing their speed. There was vast danger from these flying balls of fire. The wind continued to rise, and soon the conflagration would be leaping ahead rods at a time! It would ignite in dozens of places at once.

As they ran together, Texas Jack glanced into his comrade’s serious face, and a grin overspread his own.

“Say, Buffler,” he said, “I didn’t sleep none too warm last night. Reckon we’ll be more comfortable to-night, eh?”

Cody had to smile at that.

“You reckless devil, you! You’d joke in sight of the fires of Tophet.”

At the moment a great burst of flame roared up into the sky from the summit of a little hill behind them, and both men glanced back. The banner of fire streamed clear across the sky.

“Gee, Bill! Tophet couldn’t look hotter than that,” declared Texas Jack.