CHAPTER XXXI. BUFFALO BILL’S GREAT SHOT.

In that instant, as he was falling backward upon the ground, knowing that if the huge madman reached him before Buffalo Bill’s bullet reached its mark he would be a dead man, a clear perception of the great mistake he had made flashed through the captain’s mind. He remembered that that morning when cleaning his revolver he had noticed something wrong with the hammer, and had put it aside, unloaded, to attend to later in the day. But as he started from the camp that evening to walk up the hill, and Texas Jack had called his warning to him, he had picked up the weapon and thrust it into his belt without looking at it.

Had he not made this error he would have shot the Mad Hunter dead in that instant when the giant turned his head to look across the little valley. As he went backward, the officer flung away his useless revolver and clutched at his sword. But he could not get it from its scabbard in time. It was but half-drawn when he landed upon his back with a shock that almost deprived him of his senses!

Fearful, indeed, were the chances against the officer. He was absolutely helpless then, and like a tiger-cat the madman had sprung at his falling body. He actually was in the air with the blade of his knife poised to thrust downward into the officer’s breast when the latter heard the crack of Buffalo Bill’s rifle on the other hillside.

The keen eye of the scout on horseback had noted every move of the game on the ridge. He recognized the officer, and he guessed who the other man must be when he saw his threatening attitude. It was a long shot, and there was danger at first of his hitting the captain instead of his foe.

But when the former flung himself backward the scout dared fire. And he pulled the trigger just in the nick of time. The maniac was already plunging forward to knife the supine soldier when the bullet sped on its mission.

With a scream the madman pitched forward, over-leaping his victim, and falling on his face upon the ground, the knife being plunged hilt deep into the soft earth! A red streak showed across his scalp where the bullet had grazed the man’s crown.

“Bravo, bravo, Buffalo Bill! I owe my life to him--and Heaven knows I was never in closer quarters with death!” cried the officer, as he leaped up and drew his sword to further defend himself.

But the huge form lay still. The Mad Hunter lay unconscious. Therefore, turning to the opposite hill, he waved his hat, which he had picked up, to the horseman who was now spurring down into the valley. An answering yell from Buffalo Bill showed that he saw the officer was safe.

The rifle-shot and the shout of the Border King was unheard down there in the bigger valley; all this tragic happening had been in sight of the camp of the troopers, yet had chanced to go unnoticed. It was the scout who had come upon the scene in the nick of time, and who again had proved himself a hero.

With rapid bounds the scout urged his big white charger up the hill, from the shadows below to the twilight of the ridge summit. Finally he pulled up, threw himself from the saddle, and the officer caught his gauntleted hand.

“God bless you, Cody!”

“Captain Ed. Keyes!”

“Always in the right place at the right time, scout. Another minute, and that old madman would have sent me on my long journey, and no mistake!”

“I came blamed near being in the wrong place, captain,” said Cody seriously. “That was a long shot. I was taking great chances, and if you hadn’t flung yourself backward I should have scarcely risked firing at all.”

Then he turned to view the prostrate form of the madman, and said:

“It’s that crazy fellow they talk about, isn’t it?”

“So he said. He seemed to be proud of his reputation.”

“The Mad Hunter!”

“Yes. And mad he certainly is--poor fellow. I suppose he’s not to be blamed for what he can’t help. But he’s better dead than at large. Ugh! Another moment, and he’d had his devil’s cross slashed on my breast, I fancy.”

“You had a narrow squeak, sir.”

“I certainly did. Is he dead?”

Buffalo Bill was stooping over the giant. He turned him over so that his face was visible in the half-light.

“_That_ shot oughtn’t to have killed him,” muttered the scout, noting the course of his bullet.

“It certainly couldn’t have hurt his brain any more than it _was_ queered. He’s breathing, isn’t he?”

But Buffalo Bill did not immediately reply. He had suddenly fallen silent, and when Captain Keyes looked at the scout in surprise he saw that his eyes were fixed with a most strange expression upon the unconscious madman’s face.

“What’s the matter, Cody?” the officer asked.

The scout still made no reply. It is doubtful if he heard his superior officer. He seemed devouring the features of the unconscious man.

Little of the face could be seen for the matted beard and hair. Yet the angles of the cheek-bones and jaw were easily traced; likewise, the penthouse brows and deeply sunken eyes. The nose was prominent--a handsome nose, with its point thin and flexible, and the nostrils well marked.

“No--no,” murmured the scout at last. “I never could have seen him before--never!”

“What’s the matter with you, Cody?”

Buffalo Bill looked up at him, and wet his lips before speaking.

“I--I thought I saw a ghost, Captain Keyes--a ghost! My God! and it’s no wonder, with my mind full of the horror I _have_ seen already this evening. It--it was Danforth--he’s got into my mind, and I can’t forget him.”

“Dick Danforth--Lieutenant Danforth?”

“Aye--the poor boy himself.”

“What under the sun has Dick got to do with this madman?”

“Oh--nothing! nothing!” exclaimed Cody, leaping up. “But I have to report a very terrible thing, captain.”

“Not about Dick Danforth?”

“It is, sir. Lieutenant Danforth is dead--dead with all his men!”

“No!”

“It is the awful truth, sir.”

“I cannot believe it, Cody. You are beside yourself. You look strange, man!”

“Aye, and you would look strange yourself had you seen what _I_ have seen, Captain Keyes.”

“Tell me!”

“I was on my way to Fort Advance with the news when I happened to see you--as I supposed, facing a grizzly bear over on this ridge.”

“He was worse than a grizzly,” said Keyes, with a glance at the giant. “But give me the particulars----”

“Boyd Bennett has joined the Sioux, betrayed Danforth and his men into a trap, and the whole party were wiped out.”

“My God, Cody!”

“It is so. I saw them. I was captured by Bennett, indeed. It was within a few miles of Oak Heart’s big village.”

“Ha! And did you see the wily old scoundrel himself?”

“Oak Heart?”

“Yes.”

“No; but I saw a representative of the chief;” and he repeated the story of his coming upon the field of carnage and his adventure with Bennett and the White Antelope, while Keyes hurried him down the hillside toward the troopers’ camp.