?-DEVOTEDTO BORDER LIFE Issued Weekly. By subscription $2.50 per year. Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1907, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, Washington, D. C., oy 8" STREET & SMITH, 1 79 &% Seventh Avenue, New York, NV. Y. No. 339 NEW YORK, NOVEMBER 9, 1907. Price, Five Cents oO © (J © N © i eis Ee PM gina iN Wein, g sf Ny le MG Wiese f Megge ‘‘Helpee Chinaman, savee flom joss!’’ gasped the squirming Celestial as Buffalo Bill hurried toward the huge idol. Be Pee s Fe Fike. MGs j ha . ag, ee re ec nies oa i So | em cer? ne cern i i a sae ee ‘i ri Re ea eee ee & | a : XN ae : A WEEKLY PUBLICATION” Issued Weekly. By subscription $2.50per year. . Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1907, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, Washington, D. C., by STREET & SMITH, 79-So Seventh Avenue, New York, N.Y. [= Beware of Wild West imitations of the Buffalo Bill Stories. They are about fictitious characters. The Buffalo. Bill weekly is the only weekly containing the adventures of Buffalo Bill, (Col. W. F. Cody), who is known all over the world as the king of scouts. , ‘ § No. 339. NEW YORK, November 9, 1907. Price Five Cents. ‘Buffalo Bill in the Desert of Death; OR, THE SECRET OF THE JASPER JOSS. By the author of “BUFFALO BILL.” “Oo CHAPTER {. THR FATAL PAN D: “Game, gentlemen! . Make your bets.” Snip, snip, snip came the cards out of the little silver box, deftly _pushed by the slim white fingers of the faro-dealer. 3uffalo Bill looked at the players about the faro lay- eut and went on to where the roulette-ball was indys- -triously humming, and the croupier monotonously callfg off the result. ~ No one here held his attention. He passed to the keno-game and watched men juggling their beans over tireir cards. Still he did not find the person he was seeking. Then he began the rounds of the poker-tables. His search continued unsuccessful. He was looking for a Piute boy who went by the name of “Little Cayuse.” - Little Cayuse came and went among the various mining- camps and settlements, but that huddle of tent and shanty structures, known as Mojave, was supposed to form his principal hang-out. Unable to find Little Cayuse, Buffalo Bill stopped be- side one of the poker-tables and watched the game in | progress there. The keeneved scottt was a proficient reader of char- acter, and of fhe four players at the table ouly one in- Me terested him. This one was a young. man—of perhaps — twenty-five, slender, fair-haired, blue-eyed. Plainly an Easterner and a tenderfoot, he was, nevertheless, playing his cards like a veteran. SS The scout felt sorry fer the youth. He sat between two professional gamblers, who were plucking him stead- ily and remorselessly. Opposite the youth sat a fourth player, a miner. The miner had been drinking. The liquor had not dulled his brain, but it had affected his temper. As he made his bets and showed his cards, the miner’s bloodshot eyes roved in hostile menace upon the gamblers. ‘The miner was losing to the blacklegs as well as was the youth, but the miner suspected anderhand play, while the youth did not. - Buffalo Bill began edging toward the youth for the — purpose of giving him a whispered warning. Such in- terference-is not regarded amiably by gamblers, and be- fore the scout spoke he wanted to be in a position to “cover” both blacklegs and avoid trouble. Before he could put his charitable purpose into effect, however, something happened. The youth drew two cards, and, as he looked at his-“draw,” the scout. saw him shiver instinctively while a look of abject hopeless-- i ness and superstitious awe crossed his face. It seemed. but a passing emotion, and almost in a flash the youth iS Se THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES. gained the whip-hand of himself. Looking up, he met the eye of Buffalo. Bill). “You are Mr; Buffalo Bill?” “The ‘same, answered the famous ‘scout, what was coming next, “You were pointed out to me at the hotel this morn- ing,’ went on the youth calmly. ‘There is a little some- thing [ should like you to'do for me.” “Name it,” said the scout laconically. “Just one moment, if you please, gentlemen,” youth to the other players. : Folding his hand together, he laid it face down on the table. Then he took ‘from his pocket a long and rather bulky envelope, which he laid on the cards, Fol- lowing the envelope with a memorandum-book, he wrote some words on a blank leaf, shielding his writing with his hand so that none could see. Then he tore out the blank leaf, folded it, and gave note and envelope to the scout.) as “Tt is now about eleven o’clock, Mr. Cody,” said he, still in his level voice, “and I want you to read that note in your hotel, at midnight, and not a moment before. You are a whole-hearted man, as generous as you are brave. I-know you will do what I ask, and I thank you now for your kindness. All ready, gentlemen,” he fin- ished, picking up his:cards once more. What happened after that happened with a sudden- hess that-nearly took the scout’s breath. The miner ac- cused one of the gamblers of cheating; the lie was passed. Revolvers came out in a twinkling, and all four players started to their feet. Buffalo Bill caught the gambler’s revolver-hand, and the other gambler grabbed at the’ miner’s ‘wrist. ‘miner's aim was deflected. His bullet, instead of finding the intended mark, struck the youth in the breast. With- out a wo, the young man pitched over upon the table. ea i It was: all done in a nfinute, and the event formed a sad commentary on the rough-and-ready life of an early Western mining-camp. A terrible lesson, often repeated, and by which no one ever seemed to profit. wondering said the Casting the gambler from him, Buffalo Bill lifted the limp form from the table. The vital spark had fled, _ however, and the scout pressed through the gathering crowd and laid his burden on a bench. “I’m the town marshal, Buffalo Bill,” said a grizzled ° man, coming up to the bench. “It was an accident, an’ I kain't’do nothin’ with the feller that did the shootin’,” “I'll take charge of the young man’s effects,” an- swered Buffalo Bill, “and if I can find out the name of his next of kin I will see that the property gets into the right hands.’ oe The scout spread out the young man’s handkerchief on the floor, and laid ‘on it a silver‘watch, a few dollars in coin, atid the memorandum-book. ; “Look after him,” went on the scout to the marshal, as he knotted the ends of the handkerchief together, “I _ want him decently laid away, and. you may send me a ‘bill for the expense. Some gray-haired woman in the East will be sad when she learns of this, and I want to be able to write her that I did what I could.” -The marshal listened respectfully. © “Did: you know the fellow, Bill?” he.asked. UNO! . - “Goin’ to a lot er trouble for a stranger!” Cody,” he asked,.“otherwise known as The - long envelope in his pocket, and the note, 3 “That's my affair,’ was the curt response. “Sure it is,” returned the marshal hastily. thin’ll be done up slick, Bill. Count on me,’ The scout paused for a moment to look down into the © white, upturned face on the bench—-a face which, but av few short minutes before, had been glowing with life and hope. Then he turned on his heel, gave another swift look around for Little Cayuse, and started for the door of the shanty resort. A. frowsy Chinaman was sprinkling sand over a red blot on the floor, the gamblers were settline themselves for play at another table, the miner was reeling against the rude bar and clamoring for more drink, and from the faro layout came the “Game, gentlemen ; make your bets,” of the nonchalant dealer, and the snip, snip, snip of the cards, The gruesome burden on the bench at the rear of the room had broken the steady current for only a moment. Business was resumed as before, and the life that was lost had had no'appreciable effect on the life that. con- tinued to riot in a fever of drink and cards. Buffalo Bill left the place with the knotted handker- chief, picked his way through the dark, straggling street, - and gained the shanty hotel. A rough-looking man was behind the pine counter of the hotel “office,” : “Any new arrivals, Jake?’ asked the scout, halting at the counter. “Who ye lookin’ fer, Bill?” prietor. “My old pard, Nick Nomad.” “He hasn’t showed up.” a “You'll know him when he comes; Jake.o Helloask | & for me, and you are to send him to my room at once—in ~ case he arrives during the night.” ee Keno, Bill, Whatever you says goes in this wickiup.” Give mea light.” Jake took a fresh “candle, jabbed the end into the mouth of an empty bottle, lighted the wick with a match, and pushed the primitive candlestick across the counter. Goin’ ter turn in, Bill?’ he asked pleasantly. “Kinder airly fer turnin’ in in thisher camp.” “Tired enough to have hit my blankets two hours ago,” was the scout’s response, as he took up the primitive candlestick and, with.that in one hand and the knotted handkerchief in the other, left the room. hac He climbed a flight of creaking stairs, passed to a plank door, unlatched it, and went into his room. The rooms were partitioned off with canvas. The five-dollar- a-day rooms had each a small pine table, an imported cot, a chair, a tin wash-bowl and pitcher, a cake of yellow soap, and a towel about the size of a pocket-handker- chief. The scout pushed aside the wash-bowl and pitcher add set the candle on the table. Beside the candle he placed. the handkerchief, and untied the corners. As the cor- ners fell apart, revealing the meager personal posses- sions. of the dead man, the ticking of the silver watch echoed loudly through the room. The watch had not stopped running, It was an open-face timepiece, and the face was upturned. The scout saw. that the hands pointed to the hour of midnight, ia ‘Then, with something like a shock, he remembered the | Drawing up* the chair closer to the candle-light, he took the envelope and the note from his pocket. een The envelope was sealed, and bore no writing’ what- “Tvery- inquired Jake, the pro- vw y- he ife ler he ed HES ast he He che the nt. vas on- er- et, lan at yt O- the tch, ter. der 70, tive tted Oa The llar- cot, low ker- and aced car sSeS- atch not and ands the ep lope hat- THE BUFFALO ever on its outside. .He unfolded the note and read the hastily scribbled lines: “T have*drawn two red sevens. I now hold jacks full on red sevens, and no man ever held that hand and lived an hour, 1 shalt die, “Open the envelope that accompanies this note; read carefully its contents. Solve the mystery of the Jasper Joss, and, if you discover any treasure, reimburse your- self for your time and expenses and send the remainder _ of your find to Mrs. Hester Duane, Morgantown, Ill1- nois. Mrs. Duane is my mother. Do not let her know the manner of my death. I had nearly run out of funds and was trying to win enough to carry out the work that was taking me to Death Valley. Puit DUANE.” Buffalo Bill leaned back in his chair, the note in his hand. From outside came the muffled shouts of roysterers, and the sounds of a cracked piano accompany- ing the shuffle of feet. After a moment, he drew a long breath and reached forward to take the long envelope from the table. . CHAPTER fI, THE WOLVES. ee # “Waugh! lis’en ter ther pizen varmints. They're shore gatherin’ fer some sort er trouble. Buffler’ll begin ter think, from ther slow way. I’m reachin’ Mojave Camp an’ ‘ther Colorado, that I been bushwhacked an’ lost my ha'r. But et shore ain't er goin’ ter be wolves er reds thet keeps me back. Lis’en ter em! Howl} yeh pesky night- thieves! but come anigh Nick Nomad, an’ he'll make coyote meat out o’ ye.” The night was cloudy. Patches of dark clouds scurried across the stars and plunged into funeral gloom the barren, jagged hills through which Old Nomad, Buffalo Bill’s trapper pard, was weaving his way in the di- rection of Mojave. The old man was making a forced march from Kingman, and the cloudy night and the un- familiar country had so tangled him that he pulled up several times to find that he was wide of his trail. Get- ting his general course again took time. Consequently his trip to Mojave was lasting well into the night. The disgruntled trapper talked to himself and_be- rated his fuck. And when he wasn’t talking to him- self he was talking to his horse, Nebuchadnezzar. “Veh hyar them thar wolves, Nebby?’” continued No- mad. “One yelps off ter the north, another answers ter ther south, an’ another speaks out in between. They're gatherin,’ ther wolf pack is, an’ es shore es we ain't Piutes them wolves hev got their quarry under their noses. But thet quarry ain't us, Nebby. Ef et was, yore hind feet an’ my shootin’-irons would make short - work o’ ther pack. Ther wolves is gatherin’ in front 0’ us, an’ chasin’-some pore critter thet’s movin’ on erhead. Do ye sense et like me, ole hoss ?” Nebby lifted his scrawny neck, and snorted. ¢ “In course ye does,’ chuckled Nomad. “Howerbout pushin’ on er leetle faster, jes’ ter see what them pizen varmints hev tackled? Vamose, Nebby!” The horse struck a lope through the shadowy uplifts, forging swiftly in the direction of the yelping pack. Old Nomad, as he rode closer and closer, peered sharply ahead. “BILL STORIES. Wider gaps broke in the clouds, and more starlight filtered through and illumined the rough country. But Nomad could see nothing, aS yet. From somewhere in advance he could hear the sage- brush rattle;-and his sharp ears gathered a patter of cushioned paws, loping easily, and a click of snapping teeth. The barking continued, growing fiercer. But all these sounds came out of the dark. They were fraught with grave portent for the tuckless animal the pack was trailing. Suddenly there came something else which lifted Old Nomad in his stirrups and caused his heart to give a quick leap of surprise. A shrill voice pierced the gloom, a human voice! “Hyar thet, Nebby!” said the trapper. “Mebbyso we're needed a heap more’n | thort. Put er leetle more ginger inter yore legs, Nebby, so’st we kin make better time comin’ ter clost quarters. Waugh!’ he added, lift- ing his voice in stentorian tones. “Whoever ye aire, in front thar, keep up yore grit!* We're comin’ ter help e-” J Old Nebby’s gathering leaps carried him and his rider to the top of a low rise. At that moment the starlight favored a clearer view, and what the old trapper saw sent the hot blood racing through his veins. A dark form—he could make out little save that it was human—was completely surrosinded by the wild dogs of the desert. The animals formed a cordon about the solitary figure which, on foot, was thrashing swiftly about with a knife. Here and there, at intervals, a wolf jumped at the figure, and steadily but relentlessly the whole circle was narrowing. Four wolves leaped at the bravely bat- tling figure as Old Nomad galloped down the slope... With six-shooter in either hand, the trapper blazed his’ way through the dark with fire. So quickly were the weapons discharged that they rattled like a bunch of ex- ploding firecrackers. : The baffled wolves gave long-drawn-out howls of agony. Some turned and fled.. Those that remained were quickly brought in contact with the, out-shooting hind hoofs of the horse. Using his front legs as a pivot, Nebby circled around them, his rear hoofs playing like lightning against the lean, shaggy forms. Old Nomad dropped from the saddle. Clubbing his rifle, he leaped among the animals and seconded Nebby’s work so well that the remainder of the wolves bounded snarling away. Then Nomad turned to find out who he had rescued His astonishment was great. Seated 6n a stony hummock was an Indian boy. The lad could not have been more than ten years old. He was nude to the waist, while buckskin leggings and moc- -casins clothed his lower extremities. ; Black hair, braided in the Indian fashion, dropped about his shoulders, and from the top of the middle braid rose an eagle-feather. The boy was coolly tying up a wounded forearm with a cotton handkerchief taken from about his throat. . “Waal, Pll be durn!”’ muttered Old Nomad, standing in front of the juvenile redskin and staring at him. “Ye’re a purty small Injun ter be run down by er. wolf pack." “Wuh!” grunted the boy. ”~ white miner. “THE BUFFALO He finished tying the, handkerchief, and his teeth. af **Pache?” asked Old Nomad. - “Hoh! No 7Pache. Me Pinte.” The little Piute picked up his knife and wiped it care- fully on a tuft of sage. his belt, “Waugh, but ye’re a cool ’un!” exclaimed Old No- mad, who could admire courage wherever and when- ever he saw it, whether displayed by a white mah or a red, ." What's. yer nate ?’ “Me all:same Little Cayuse.” “Where's the rest 0’ yer tribe ?”’ “No. got tribe.” “Ain't ye got rid folks 2” “Humph! - All same maverick. Little Cayuse’chaw terback ?” “Not me, son. Kids, Injuns er whites, ain’t got no bizness er t chewin’ ther filthy weed. Whar ye come from, Cayuse ? : ".“Minin’- -camp ” “Whar ye goin’? “Odder minin’- camp. “What pertic ‘ler minin’-camp yeh headin’ bere’ “Mojave.” ‘know ther way thar?” Little Cayuse’s anwser was an affirmative grunt. “Thet bein’ ther case,” remarked the trapper, ye a lift. Come yan “Who you?” returned Little Cayuse cautiously. “Me? Waal, I’m Nick Nomad, Buffler Bill’s trapper pard.” The boy showed some alacrity at that. “Me hear about um Pa-has- ka, big white chief. big warrior. You big brave’s friend 2” “More’n thet, Cayuse. A‘ pard’s a heap more’n a friend. Et’s ha’f-way, between er friend en er blood- brother. Savvy?” “Heap savvy.” ‘Then toe-in this hyar way, an’ we'll mount an’ con- tinner ter,.p'int fer ther Colorado.” The old ‘trapper climbed to Nebby’s reached down for Little Cayuse’s hand. “You no got um smokin’-terback 2” inquired the boy. en leetle son of er gun!” chuckled Old Nomad. “Terback comes as. nach’ral for ye as tried, dora, 1 reckon. No, I ain’t got none; what's more, I wouldn’t give et ter ye et i had et. Terback is bad fer boys. Git aboard, an’ we'll be joggin’ erlong. Buffler is waitin’ fer me, and I’m several hours behind. ther schedule he set fer me, already.” Little Cayuse took his hand and reached the back of the saddle with a spring. “How Jong was ye ee asked the trap per. "Heap long,” atiswered the boy. “No got tum. boom- boom gun, only knife. Make um fight with knife. Heap wo olves, heap long fight, heap bad for, Little Cayuse. Good medicine you come., Wuh!” : “How does et come ye ain't got no daddy er “Daddy sell um Little White Mebbyso you give um “Tl give back again, and ‘ther wolves, Cayuse?” mammy ?’ Cayuse for bottle whisk’ to miner die. J.ittle ot follow trail. alone.” a luck ? o’ ye than’ thet. ter hev folles thet don’t think no more How'd ye live?’ using one hand Then» he returned the blade to . _ pointed Nebby into Mojave Camp an hour later. - Heap taking Little Cayuse’s BILL STORIES : Ketchum grub “Eat um jack-rabbit, mebbyso. minin’-camp. Heap plenty grub.” After that Little Cayuse fell silent, and the old a eppe became rutinative. Nomad didn’t like Indians, but 1 did sort of warm up to Little Cayuse. The lad was brave. That was what struck a re- sponsive chord in Old Nomad’s make-up. And_ his father had. sold him to a white man for.a bottle of 9 whisky. That aroused the old man’s sympathy and made ie swift appeal to his generous heart. : mein « tell ye what ’m er- goin’ ter do with you, Little Cayuse,” said the trapper. “Ye’re goin’ with me ter Buffler Bill. Ye’re too young er red ter be shackin’ loose eround this hyar kentry. Et ain't good fer yer morals. I’ll bet ye kin sw’ar, an’ I don’t know but yell §f steal, an’ tell things thet ain’t so. 1 knows ye like ter- § backer, an” “Buff’lo Bill [ give um Little Cayuse terback?’”’ broke § in the boy eagerly) : ‘Nary, he w bate Buffler don’t bileeve in boys smo- kin’ no more’n what I do.” Under the guidance of Little Cayuse, oft Old Nomad The boy showed him where to take care of the horse, and then where to go to find the hotel. ' Buffler Bill stoppin’ in this hyar j’int, pard?” the trapper, of a man behind the ee counter, ‘Say, aire ye Naek’“Nomad ?” returned the landlord. “Thet’s me.” “Buffler Bill is lookin’ fer ye. Told me, less’n an hour ago, ter take ye right up ter his room ef ve come.) frail erlong pard. As tor you, Cayuse,” went on the hotel- man, ‘turning fiercely on the boy, “scatter. I don’t want ye hyar.” “He’s with me,’ comes, too.” “Waal, look out fer him, blind.”’ “Not me, he won't. I’m his friend.” With a candle in a bottle, the proprietor of the ‘hotel led the way up-stairs and pointed to a door. “Thet’s ther, room. Walk in.’ ~The landlord faded away down the stairs and Nomad and Little Cayuse walked in on Buffalo Bill. It was close to one o'clock in the morning. The scout, still at the table, was deeply interested in “something he was reading. At ee ot Nomad, he started up. “Welcome, old pard!” he cried heartily. “I’ve been expecting you.” His eyes fell on the little Piute, “Who's that?” he asked, with a start. “Buffler Bill,” grinned Old Nomad, “sha Leetle Cay use, er, maverick Piute. te: trail.” The scout stared. one hand outstretched. “How?” said he “By George, but this is luck!” hand. queried said Nomad. “Wharever I goes, he _ thet’s all. He'll steal ye ake hands with I picked him up on Little Cayuse stepped forward with exclaimed the scout, 6 MO RBCRIEL CHAPTER t17. BUFFALO BILL’S MISSION. oe é. Old Nomad was surprised at the w ay his pard looked Little Cayuse and spoke of us owe with the boy as a stroke of luck, at mad cout, g he been Tho's with pon with pout oked the & ee cai se 99. “Il 10 cumtua ther luck o’ et, Buffler,’ muttered No- mad, sitting down on the cot.. “What's more, [no cumtu. gPiher reason we're ‘way. off hyar, farther an’ farther from ther Platte an’ ther Black Hills kentry. I got yare i in Kingman ter come on, an’ hyar I am, big as -life an’. twicet as ornery. What's et. all erbout i “Government business, Nick,’ answered the scout. “Wherever we are told to go, we go.” “Whar hev we been told ter. go now?” “To Death Valley. Telegraphic orders reached me at Kingman, and [ ha d to hurry on here, leaving word for you to follow.” ie “What aire we ter do in a blighted wilderness 1 Death Valley? No Injuns thar threatenin’ ter dance t medicine an’ go on ther war-path, is thar?” “Trouble is threatening among the Piutes. For a long time they have been going into the valley as peaceable Indians and coming out hostiles. “~Something sages to them in Death, Valley. It has been reported that there is a big idol there called the Jasper Joss and that Piute medicine- -men are using the idol to urge the Indians to take the war-trail. We are to find this Jasper ~Joss, if k h ‘there is really such a thing, and, when we find it, des- troy it. Briefly, that is my mission in the valley.” “Sounds easy, Buffler; but ef we got ter go bush- ‘whackin’ through ther desert, lookin’ fer an idol thet ain’t thar, I reckon 1 see our finish. Death Valley ain’t no place fer a white man. Nothin’ in ther place but sun, sand, an’ death.” “OL ~was tniormed,” went on the scout, “that a stray Piute boy, known as Little Cayuse, had told the army officials about the idol, and about the effect it was having on the Piute bucks. The boy was said to hang out, most of the time, in Mojave Camp. That was why I pushed on here—so that I might find Little Cayuse and get our expedition ready by the time you arrived to take part in it. I have been in the camp two days looking for Little Cayuse, so you will understand why TI called it a piece of luck when you’picked him up and brought him in!” “Waugh! Beats all creation, Buffler, how leetle things sorter dovetails tergether in order ter give ye a line on er piece er. work. ‘Cody luck, 1 calls et.” ‘ “Call it whatever you like, Nick,” laughed the scout, “but tell me what kept. you so lone on the road and where you managed to pick up the boy. o The old man recited the circumstances of his del ay and his “find” to his pard. “Certainly it is curious that you should chance upon Little Cayuse in such a way as that,’ murmured the scout, casting a look at the small Piute..: The boy was squatted on the floor, Indian-fashion, watching and listening with a ph nlegmatic face. “Know anythin’ erbout this hyar Jasper Joss, Cayuse ?” asked the trapper. “Wuh!” erunted the bey. .“Heap big idol. Piute heap htingry for scalp. Plenty medicine.’ “You've seen the idol, have you?” asked Buffalo Bill. “Little Cayuse go with Piute before him sold to white miner for bottle whisk.” “Pet fargo, “Good cayuse, four sleeps.” -“Mebbyso he’s lyin’, Buffler. He means wel Il, I reckon, but he’s got ther Tnjun way er showin’ et.” “T think he’s telling the truth, Nick.” “Waugh f Et don’t stand ter reason, Make Buf- noways, ee a ge il te ae AS 2 Me RSE fp ren ba Sond baeh ses aie cepa ore THE BUFFALO “The strange actions of the man who : an sarge ae STORIES. BILL fler. “Who's goin’ ter tote er big idol inter Death Valley an’ chuck’ et down thar on ther hot sand? aint a-swallerin’. no sich tork,” “T have other proof of it, Nick—most astonishing proof hat fell into my hands in the strangest of ways this ie night. The coincidence of your finding Little Cayuse and saving him from the wolves can hardly be compared to this .one.” “What is: et, Buffler ?”’ “T have discovered where the learned the name of the crazy. stone- if out Or. the jasper block. I have there is a secret connected with the stone—a .secret, I suppose, that the Piutes know nothing about. The Piutes, as | understand it, simply found the idol in the desert; their medicine-men, appreciating its value as a “‘medicine’- maker, have been using it for that purpose. But I have learned that if’ a person steps on the idol’s right knee, and then presses the idol’s right eye, the secret “of it will idol came from,’ and cutter who chiseled also learned that be revealed.” Idols were off his sky- one way or Old Nomad was incredulous. line, and he was loath to believe in this one, the other. “Whar did ye l’arn all thet, BuffleM?” he asked. The scout placed his hand on some written sheets that lay on the table beside the candle. “Here, Nick,” said he, “is a lot of interesting reading. I-came up here about midnight to hunt my blankets, but when I began reading that manuscript I couldn’t put it down until I had finished. It makes a clear, lucid story. What's more, history bears out the statements.” The trapper eyed the sheets of paper with some inter- est. Even. Little Cayuse kept his eyes on the “paper-. talk,” “Whar'd ye git them dockyments, Buffler?”’ inquired Old Nomad. “The manuscript came into my peculiar manner,’ replied the scout. Thereupon hé told of visiting the @ambling-resort in an attempt to find Little Cayuse, and of how he had been a witness to the fatal ending of the poker-game. had been slain were dwelt upon, and then the scout finished by reading the note which Phil Duane had passed over with the long envelope, and with instructions that the note was not to be read until midnight. Old Nomad had a streak of wild superstition in. his make-up. It only cropped-out when the occasion might be termed eines eee however. The reading of the, note impressed him deeply. “Waugh! "he muttered. “An? ther feller was killed, Fos a8 he said he’d be, eh, Buffler ?’ ‘Vieg: 59 “An’ jes’ bekase he held thet thar fatal hand?’ “No, i don’t think that, at all. The fact that he held the hand, and was killed just as he thought he wag 80 ing to be, is merely another coincidence.” “Sich things is shoré too much fer me, 3uffler. I kain’t understand ‘em, an thar.ain’t no use tryin’. But go on with ther resto et. In thet note he tells ye ter ther Jasper Joss, an’ draps in er hands “in a . thet’s er fact. When'll | hear ther rest.o et:°.: “In the morning, Nick.” Then dcreckon Til hev ter ca’m down an’ . Buenos noches, pard.” % Old Nomad went out. Buffalo Bill took one of the blankets off the cot and laid it on the floor with a ~pillow. @ . “That's for you, Cayuse,” said he, watching the boy sharply. “You savvy what I, want, eh?” “You want to find um idol?’ Ves +9, e. - “Want um Little Cayuse take you find\um idol?” “Yes. Oo Z “Wuht « gerback ¢ _ “No; but if yeu help me I'll treat you well, Cayuse, and give you all you can eat, a horse to ride, and a re- peating rifle.” The little Indian's eyes sparkled. “Me go with Pa-has-ka,’ said he. Then he kicked the blanket and pillow to one side, and stretched himself out on the bare floor with a satisfied grunt. He had his knife beside him, for self-preserva- tion is the Indian's first law, and he never neglects to obey it. The scout crawled in between his blankets, satisfied that the promise of a horse and a gun would hold Little Cayuse faithful to his word. How long Buffalo Bill slept he did not knows. When he was awakened it was by a sharp cry and the sound of a struggle’ It was still dark, and the struggle was going on apparently in the center of the room. Little Cayuse was one of the combatants—there was no doubt about that. hurried to take a hand in the struggle. wait. Mebbyso you give um Little Cayuse chaw CHAPTER TV. THE THIEVING CHINAMAN. When Buffalo Bill threw himself into the scramble the commotion fairly shook the house.’ Awakened sleepers ‘shouted for quiet, and Jake came up the stairs two steps at a time and burst into the room. “What’s goin’ on hyer, Bill?” he demanded. “Give it up, Jake,” the scout answered.- “Light the candle on the table and lets See. a rope or something.” “This hotel ain’t put up very tron: an’ I been lookin’ Je it ter collapse any minit,’ remarked Jake, scratching a match on the door and touching it to the candle stump on the table. = “Jupiter! exclaimed the scout; “a Chink He was holding a Chinaman by the pigtail, and not a very pleasant-looking Chinaman, either. The rascal was large and probably came from the north China prov- inces, where the men are stalwart and big. But his face was the face of a reprobate, full of cunning and hideously THE BUFERALO BILE STORIES, Without waiting to strike a light, the scout ‘He had Little ee on the floor. The little Piute had drawn his knife. The Chinaman x, s clutch- ing the knife-hand with his right, and with’ ‘his ¥eft was hanging to the bundle of written | -sheets which Buffalo Bill had taken from the long envelope. The scout, clutching the Chinaman’ s queue, prevented the yellow thief from “making off. “By thunder!” growled Jake. “It's thet thar Hip. Loo —ther wust hatchet- boy in’ther camp. He, an’ a lot more o’ his kind, pulls down a few plttiks a day washin’ over gravel a white man wouldn’t look at. An’. thet's how he got in! Ther pigeon-toed whelp ort ter be strangled.” Jake pointed to the canvas partition on the left side of the room. A five-foot perpendicular cut had been made digit, “Did the rascal have that room on the other side of the cut canvas, Jake 2”, queried the scout. “T ain’t rentin’ rooms ter Chinks, Bill. This here’s a fust-class hang-out. Ter yaller | ‘tin kern must hev sneaked inter ther buildin’ an’ got inter thet room, an * then cut his way through while ye was asleep.” “Wuh!” came.from Little Cayuse, glaring at the, China- man while the scout’ took the written sheets from his hand.~ “Me hear um; mebbyso me kill um, me bigger.” The manuscript was crumpled somewhat, but it was not injured. Near the manuscript lay Phil Duane’s watch. Why had the Chinaman not attempted to steal the watch? Of what value to him was the manuscript? The only way the scout could crack this nut was by supposing that the Chink himself had designs on the Jasper Joss. Perhaps the yellow man had. crawled into the other room to sleep and had overheard Buffalo Bill and Old Nomad talking about the idol. “What did you want of this, Hip Loo?’ demanded. - the scout sternly, indicating the manuscript, which he still held in his hand. The Chinaman. rubbed his eyes and blinked around as though he was bewildered. - “Whatee you do to Chinaman?” he drawled, as though coming out of a trance. “Wouldn't thet put a kink in yer thinker ?’. erouid Jake. “He'll know what’s been done to him, I “reckon, before we git through.” “No can tell where me come,’. rambled the Chink. | “Me smokee one piecee opium, makee sleep plenty hard. Flogetee evelt’ing. No smokee opium ally mo’.” “He says he smoked opium,” .observed Buffalo Bill cynically, “and didn’t know what he was doing.” _ “He lies by ther watch |” declared Jake. “Ought ter hey his yaller neck wrung.” The scout/saw there. was nothing to be got out of the — Celestial. Of course, his yarn about smoking’ opium and not knowing what he was about while trying to steal the repulsive. I’ve got some one by, A manuscript was too “fishy” for the borderman to swallow. “Get out!” ordered Buffalo Bill, pointing to the door. _ ‘Can do! cried the Chink, and darted for the hall. _ “So kin I do, by thunder!” growled Jake, and plunged after Hip Loo and helped him les with the toe of his boot. Jar aiter jar and yell after yell followed until. the Chinaman reached the foot of the stairs and was kicked into the street. Old Nomad;-tired from long hours in the saddle, had slept through most of the racket. The noisy manner in which Hip Loo was “personally con- ducted” to the outside by Jake, however, brought the tle aS ilo ed. 00 lot trapper out of his bed to his pard’s room. “Waugh!” cried N omad, hyar pizen noise, Buffler ?’”’ “A Chink cut his way into the, room here and tried to steal that bunch of paper-talk. Little Cayuse caught him at it, and there was a squabble which woke me up. The yellow thief failed to get what he was after, and Jake just kicked: him out.” “Didn’t he try ter take nothin’, but ther bunch o° pa- per?” asked the mystified Nomad. Mats (alee “What did ther whelp want 0’ thet?” “Give it up, Nick. It must be that he wanted to find out something about the idol, although what interest he has in the idol is more than I can. tell, Go back to bed now, ahd get all the rest you can.’ “Hip Loo heap bad, medicine,” spoke up Little Cayuse. Ne ae um. He want Little Cayuse show um idol; “What's thér meanin’ o’ this . Little Cayuse no show um, “When did he want you to show him the idol?’ asked the scout, deeply interested in this unexpected bit of in- formation. “Three, four moons,’ answered the Piute boy: “Where did he find out about the idol?” Little Cayuse shook his head. Old Nomad left the room and started for his own. Buffalo Bill, picking up the candle, pushed through the rent in the canvas into the room adjoining his: An open outside window showed how tle Chinaman had climbed into the hotel. The scout closed the window, came back to his own chamber, put the manuscript under ‘his pillow with a revolver, and went to bed again. When he awoke, the sun was high and was. shining into the room through four small panes of dusty glass. Little’ Cayuse was gone, The scout was-troubled somewhat by the little Piute’s absence. Had he gone for good, or was he merely knocking around the camp, waiting for the scout to get up? While the scout was getting into his clothes he made another discovery. His rifle had also disappeared, ‘as well as the revolver which he had left in his belt when he had taken to his cot a second time during the pre- ceding night. ‘Wonder if that boy is a thief, too?’ Buffalo Bill wondered. “If he is a thief, then there is no depending on what he says, for any one who will steal will lie.” Yet, if Little Cayuse had wanted. to steal, the silver ‘watch on the table would cettainly have been a Le tion. The watch was still there. Once more knotting Phil Duane’s worldly possessions in the handkerchief, Buffalo Bill went down to the Office. While waiting for Nick to show himself, he wrote a letter to Mrs. Duane, telling her the sad news of her son’s death, and assuring her that the mission which had brought the young man to that part of the country would be faithfully carried out. Duane’s personal prop- erty was then done up into a packet and addresesd to his - mother: By that time Nick had come down-stairs. The scout told him about the disappearance of Little Cayuse, the eun, and the revolver. Jake overheard the report. “T told ye, Nomad,” was a grafter. chance.” said Jake, “that ther little red He’d steal a hot stove if he got ther LHe. DUPEALO and carried him at a double-quick BILL STORIES. a ‘Kain't b’leeve et,” asserted Roma stoutly. “T shore kain’t think fer a minit thet Leetle Cayuse ’u’d rub ‘et. in thet-a-way ter a’ couple. 0} fellers like mean’ Buffler, thet was intendin’ ter do ther right thing by him.” The scout and ‘his pard went in to:a late brealsfast. When they got through, they. came out to the front:of the hotel and took a couple of chairs in the shade. “Now,” said Buffalo Bill, “I’m going to put the rest of this business’ before you, Nick. Iam sure it will-th- terest you, and it is just as well for you to have the entire matter clear.in your mind before we start for Death Valley.” “Fire away, Buffler,’- returned Old Ai cara tilting his chair back against the front of the hotel. Just as the scout had opened out the manuscript given ~ _ him by Duane,..and was making ready to read, Little Cayuse came around the corner of the builditig.. He had the big rifle oyer his shoulder and the. big revolver in one hand, pyar thef kid, now!” excla imed Nomad, giving the ttle Piute a keen sizing. “Whar ye bee n, Cayuse?” he a a ed, “Umph !’> muttered th 1e boy. Hiny heap bad medicine.” He ae the rifle against the building at Buffalo Bills side, and handed over the revolver. The scout was heartily glad the boy had returned, ane had not taken French leave. The face that he had: come back proved that he meant to deal fairly with his white friends, " Where did Hip Loo go?” asked Buffalo Bill. “Him’go to camp of yellow: men, Heap-C hink, Hip Loo talk to odder Chinks. Talk um-Chink tall,’ Little Cayuse no savvy. Chinks heap bad, -Pa-has-ka watch “Me trail um Hip Loo. um,’ The boy had evidently had a long tramp. Hts .moc- casins and leggings were covered with mud and scratched with thorns, a “Al right, Cayuse,’ said the scout. “You “go ‘into - the hotel and tell Jake I sent you, and’ that he's “to give you:a good square meal, and charge it.to me.’ ‘Wh! grunted the. boy, and vanished inside ‘the building, | Eis morils sartinly ain: ’t what they ort ter be, Buffler” . said Nomad, “but Cayuse means ter, put up a fair dicker with us. He’s a game leetle cub, an’ he shorely expected trouble, er he wouldn't hev loaded up with all thet hard- ware, We kin trust him.” “Lm. sure we can,” returned the’ scot ute getting ready to read. “While he ‘s putting away his bre eakfast, we ll go over these papers.” “Keno, Buffler,’” answered Nomad, again See him- sel® “Heave ahead.” . ™~ CHAPTER. CONCERNING THE JASPER Joss. “This paper which I hold in my hand, Nick,” said - Buffalo Bill, “is a statement made by David Duane, Phit-. Duane’s father. He was a stone-cutter by trade, and, on top of that, he was a good deal of a mechanic. The main point of his story is verified by history. :1 am going to read the statement j ust-as David Duane set it down. “My dear son,’ it begins; ‘while my mind is: clear— and it is only cleat, at long intervals, for I am out fe be! ou aiost. c 8 | _ THE BUFFALO head. most of the time and have no knowledge of what I am doing—-I am: going to write you and tell you of a fortune. which is waiting for you and your mother, here in Death Valley, at the eastern edge of the State of Cali-” fornia. I am near death’s door, and know I have not long to live. When: the letter ‘is finished, I shall try and carry at to the nearest-settlement, to be posted to you. I may fail in this, and you may never get Las letter, but I- shall hope for the best... “ «Vou remember how, in. oe year tof’ 50, fled nih a number of.others from our part of the cone. for the long overland trip to California in quest of gold. I will not tell you. much of.the first part of the journey, for I] want to make the most of the time while my mind is clear. At any moment the awful darkness may come back, and my reason may pass away from me. Our wagon-train followed the usual route from the Missouri to Salt Lake City; and so many were the people bound for the Land of Gold that the trains formed almost a con- tinuous procession from the Big Muddy to the Mormon town. » At Salt Lake City the trains: aay divided, some going by the route afterward followed bythe Central Pacific Railroad, Utah, Nevada, and southern California, bound through the Cajon Pass for the regions of which Los Angeles was the metropolis. “‘Our train consisted of big’ prairie- goes drawn _ by oxen. Up to a certain point, our oxen were able to live on the grass that grew along the trail; then, at the time we reached Salt rake. City, -we learned that the northern, or Truckee route, had been traveled’so much that feed and fuel were scarcer than to the south. Our train decided to go to the south. Other trains had gone that -way, traveling trails that led near the west bank of the Colorado for several hundred miles and then striking across the desert by way of several well-known - springs to the Mojave River, which sinks into the sands - of the Mojave Desert. - ““This seemed to us like a roundabout course, We wanted to get to the Land of Gold a little ahead of the others. In an ill- advised moment, therefore, we left the trail in the vicinity of Clover Valley Cafion - ‘and fol- ’ lowed the compass. cut up with trails, and we found many springs and good grass in the Pahranagat Range and had no diffi- culty. -The lava beds, south of the Kawich Valley, turned us farther. south : then, seeing bare mountains ahead of us,®we got down into the Amargosa River valley in the vicinity of Ash Meadows. “Even yet everything continued to go fairly well with us. We found springs of water at intervals, filled up kegs and barrels, and were able to keep ourselves and our animals in good condition in spite of the terrible _ heat. But our situation was rapidly becoming desperate. The country became more and more rugged, ” the valleys were narrower, the mountains steeper, ‘the canons it- _ tered with the débris of tornadoes and cloudbursts. One by one we began to throw away articles which we did . hot absolutely need, in order to lighten the loads for “our se: ee oxen, and women as well as men walked be- side the wagons. “ ‘Then we reached the Bane Mountains, followed - up-a torrent bed between two peaks, antl reached a sum- nit overleoking a scorched va alley whose sides were like in their steepness. Unyoking the cattle, while the rest struck down through » when I left: the rest of the desperate gold- seekers, ‘the man who was with me had nee I must have lost Lincoln County, Nevada, was well - touches to a huge idol—a terrifying Chinese joss squatted “BILL. STORIES. we lowered our wagons by hand by the means of ropes and chains down to the mesa at the foot of the range on which we were standing. It was awful work in- that stifling atmosphere, which was utterly devoid of moisture. We. succeeded, however, in reaching the mesa, pitched a ‘dry’ camp, and turned the cattle out to graze. “ ‘Fires were made out-of the scanty greasewood fuel, and supper was cooked. But there was no water to drink, and the cattle bawled, the men’ tossed about, and mothers tried vainly to. soothe the jchildren who were calling for water. 4 ‘That. was our. last camp: woctched as it seemed, it was only the beginning of greater terrors to follow on the next day. With the first streak of light we De- gan searching for water toward the snow- capped. peak: to the west. Utider the fierce trays of the sun, all of us became feverisl and some delirious. Camp cand wagons were abandoned. We %eparated in groups. Ar other man and myself, with ene of the oxen, went nortir along the base of the Panamints, crossed a marsh through the crust of which our feet slipp d into corroding brine, and crawled up’ gulches where te black rocks tore our hands and tried our strength to the uttermost. We never got across the Panamints. The man who was with me went suddenly mad and flung himself to his death from a high cliff. “During all that awful journey, I had held fast to my kit of stone-cutter’s tools\. This kit was on the ox Apter my: own reason, for I remembered nothing more for a oye long time—weeks, and Pate months. * hot desert, toiling away at a huge block of black jasper which had been dropped upon the:face of the desert—the. Creator only knows how. There’ was nothing like that block of jasper anywhere else to be seen. “‘T did not know where I was, nor how I had got there. I had no idea why I was chiseling at that block of jasper with my stone-cutting tools. But there I was, working away in the hot sun like a madman. Under my frenzied hands the great block was taking shape into an image of some sort. I dropped my implements and started back. The ox was gone, and I was alone, alone in a waterless waste with a partly completed statue as useless to me as the forbidding mountains which hemmed in my fevered vision. The awful sense of lone- liness overwhelmed me, and [ lost reason again. ““Once more I became rational. I was beside a spring s water, brackish, hot, but still water. I was panning sold, and on a strip of old oxhide beside me lay a ie f nuggets. The old question of where I was, and ow long I had been in that place, came back to me. Then the loneliness, the horrible, sense-destroying toneli- ness, came back. T dropped the gold-pan and turned around. camp—and it was evident that the camp had been there for a long, long time. roasted chawallah, or lizard, lay half-eaten on a piece of smooth stone. I started to- ward the camp like a man just awakening from a dream. Then, of a sudden, I threw my hands to my head and dropped on the sand. “ “Reason darkened again. When its light returned I was once more in the flat desert, putting the fimishine : me x, Pg ee In a blasted niche of rock I saw a camp—my ~ nlc S, he in the hot sands. The sight-of the thing sent me back into. my crazed condition once more. “By little and little, I have discovered: that, in my frenzied condition, I carved that huge idol. for a pur- pose. What the purpose is I know not, but 1 think it must have been to hide the gold I discovered. ‘The great figure is a mechanism—a mechanical wonder which, I feel sure, I could never have worked out in the natural state of my mind. Once, when I came to myself, I was : standing on the idol’s right knee, pressing against: the idol’s right eye with my finger. Something. happened, but I ac not know what it was. Just a as the ae Oc- curred, my freshly awakened mind was again sthk in \ darkness. « ‘Now, while I write this, all I know is that the gold T“have found is in some way connected with the Jasper Joss—for the gold has disappeared from my camp, and the great idol is still squatting out thereon the blistering desert : “1. pray that now my reason may hold while I finish tis letter. -| had writing-material in my tool-kit, and ___ I seem to have preserved it carefully. Had I not done | so, this, letter to you, my son, could never have been % writtens “ «This letter done, I shall place it in the envelope, address it, tie it about my throat with a strip of sinew, and make an attempt to reach some settlement. . . 1 have become a hairy, half-wild creature, clothed in fox- skins, eating lizards, and living like a cave-man in the times when - the earth was young. And I have been in this desert for years. _[ was comparatively young when I came: here, and now I am old and gray. Besides, to cut jasper with the few tools I have with me and carve | out such ‘an idol as I have accomplished, must have ‘ taken _years of time. > “*Are you and your mother living? Are you still in ic oe? Or have you passed away while I have been buried alive in Death Valley? My heart. fails me. Perhaps this letter will wever reach you; but some time ‘my idol will be discovered, and people will wonder how such a work ever came to bé in this waste of sand -and solitude. My gold is there, somewhere, I am sure. ‘The idol will give up its secret to some one, and I hope, -my_boy, it will be to you. Should this letter ever reach / your hand a Buffalo Bill stopped. |. “Waugh!” cried Old Nomad, who had been abso fin the letter, “oo on, Buffler! Don't stop thar!” “That is all, pard,” said the scout. “Ther ae must hev got locoed ag’ in, Hey?” ‘mut- _tered Nomad. “An! he quit writin’ jes’ whar ther mad- *ness ketched him.” “That must have been the way of ees “How did ther letter ever: git inter Sher hands 0’ Duane’s son?” “Here’s another. scrap of wetiee in a Cierent hand, pthat tells of that. “Listen!” The scout read the scrap, which ran as follows mal prospector. While trailin’ along Src a rocky canon’ I found a dead man. _ He was the wildest- lookin’ man I most ever seen, and I had ‘to look twicet to make out whether he was human. He was dressed in skins, and his hair was white and fell down to his waist. i ite had played out for want of water! I reckon. The en- | closed letter was hanging around his neck by a buck- skin string. It was addressed, and I am sending it on, » rbed THE BUFFALO BIBLE with this here note to explain. - Mebby it means’ some thin’ to you, and mebby it don’t.” But I'm a feller that always likes to do as he’d be:done by. If Lam ever found dead in the hills, I hope the one that finds me will let my wife know, back in the States.” “Thet all, Buffler?” asked Old Nomad. “Yes,” replied the scout. signed. : ‘’Uhet thar. prospector, whoever he was, was plumb white. Phil Duane got the letter, an’ the one his dad had writ. Then he come out hyar close ter Death Valley hopin’ ter locate thet idol. Is thet they way of et?” “Undoubtedly. The Jasper Joss is being used by Piute medicine-men to excite the Piutes against the whites, and the government has commissioned us to find the idol and ‘destroy it. Our work, and,the work that brought Duane here, have thus come together. When we destroy the idol we shall undoubtedly discover its secret. any gold, we will send the treasure to Mrs. Duane, at Morgantown, Illinois.” . Right ye are, Buffler,” approved Old Nomad heartily. “We have the authority of the gold-hunter’s letter and the testimony of Little Cayuse that the Jasper Joss exists. So I do not think that there is any doubt but that we will be able to find the idol. Little Cayuse will take us to it, and we will destroy it.” ‘When do we start, Buffler ?” “To-night. Mojave.” The scout replaced the papers in his pocket, got up from his chair, and started off ae the straggling street SoS of the xcamp. COAPERR VL TRAILED BY THE “HATCHET-BOYS. The funeral expenses’ for poor Phil Duane amounted to $50. Buffalo Bill paid this money out of his own pocket, and arranged to have a board slab, suitably in- scribed, erected at the head of the long, narrow mound: This work attended to, he set about getting together the equipment for the Death Valley trip. The course was laid to take in the few springs along the way, and bring the party to the edge of the valley. somewhere in the valley itself, not far from the idol, would be found the stone-cutter’s old camp ‘and’ suffi- cient water for their needs while they were in the: blighted _ region. The equipment included several sticks of dynamite, several yards of fuse,\.and some caps. The scout -like- wise secured a tough little pinto pony for the Indian boy, a small repeating rifle, and a supply of cartridges. Ra- tions were to be carried in haversacks. It was the scout’s intention to travel through the het country by night, lying by at some water-hole during the heat of the day. There was no- particular hurry about the work, apart from the fact that the sooner the . Jasper Joss was destroyed the quicker the Piutes would quiet down and cease to be a ménace to the whites. The start was made from Mojave immediately after supper. Little Se the proud Peer of a horse STORIES. : es “This “second letter isn’t © If the discovery of the’ secret brings to light You stay here and keep your eye on. Little Cay use, and Pu make our preparations for leaving If the crazed — stone-cutter’s statements were to be relied on—and the. scout knew of no valid reason why they should not be—.- 3 ee a tae was es the: happiest weds in that part of the country. An Indian scorns the use of a saddle, and. Buffalo Bill did. not get one for the pinto; but he got a good. horsehair bridle and a. quit. The ‘little Piute rode with the gun across, the horse in front of him, and with the quirt bound to his right wrist with a thong. He took the lead, and from time to time as he rode he would. look back at Buffalo Bill with all the gratitude and affection of a well-treated dog. There was no doubt of Little Cayuse’s faithfulness. The. scout knew that the success of the expedition depended on the boy. He knew where the idol was, and could lead them to it.- But for his knowledge the scout and his pard would, have confronted the welt nigh im- possible task of plunging at random into the desert and hunting blindly for the object they had been told to find and to destroy. The perilous valley was net the place for such a haphazard search. The little Piute led his white friends notthward along the Colorado to a crossing, then through a pass be- tween the Opal Mountains and the Dead Mountains to- ward Sugar,Loaf Peak. This was the first lap of their journey, and at daybreak they went into camp at a spring tinder the brow of the peak, and turned out their horses to gtaze on the sparse gramma grass in a small valley. After a breakfast. of jerked beef and crackers, the scout and the trapper hunted up a couple of patches of shade and lay down to sleep, with their saddles for pil- dows. As a precautionary move, Little Cayuse was left on guard, with instructions to. arouse Old Nomad when the sun was directly overhead. It was an hour-or two before noon when the Piute boy aroused both Nomad and the scout. “What's wrong, Cayuse Pe Buffalo Bill, taking a look at the sun. “Reckon ther kid's in er hurry ter turn in, the trapper. “Me no want um sleep,’ answered Little “Chinks heap bad, all same fox. Come Wah! You see.’ ‘The’ boy..was about as edie as he ever became. When he finished: speaking he climbed up a spur and looked off over the level country to southward. “Waugh!” exclaimed the’ trapper, as he started up the side of the spur aiter the boy. “Wonder ef we're goin’.ter git mixed up with er lot er rat-eaters? Hate Chinks wuss’n I do ther pizen reds.” When the scout and the old trapper reached the top of the spur, Little Cayuse pointed off into the misty dis- tance. : “See. um Chink 2" he nets yellow-eyes.’ “Yellow-eyes” was the boy’s term for white men. What Buffalo Bill and Nomad say consisted of a number of black dots looking like so many ants crawling over the yellow sand. Whether ‘the dots were horsemen or foot-travelers, however, or whether they were China- men, Indians, or whites, it was impossible for them to isle out, dene -eyed though they were. “Kain't tell what.thet outfit is,’ muttered Old Nomad. Chars: &doven of em, all right, an’ mebby more, an’ et’s plain their trailin’. kerry. me.’ “Heap Chink, heap cayise, ’ said. the boy. um.’ \ : o remarked Cayuse. along. trail. “Heap Chink trail um “Me see THE. “BUFFALO BILL “STORIES. But thet’s as fur as.my eyes’ll, Then all I kin say is, kid, ye got eyes like er pair of spy-glasses.” “Keep, watch, Cayuse,” said Buffalo Bill come within gtinshot of us let us know.” Wuh! {i2 The little Piute was all puffed up with his importance. He had his rifle with him—in fact, he would not let the “When they ‘beloved gun out of his hands for an instant—and looked i 4s ‘though he was ready to stand off a whole army of Chinamen. ‘What do ye think o’ this hyar play, Buffler ?” inquired Old Nomad, when he’and the scout reached the bottom o! the slope. ert the Chinamen are trailing us,” replied Buffalo Bill “then it’s a foregone conclusion that Hip Loo. is/at the bottom of it.” ee “What kin ther Chinks want?” “They-have héard about the idol, for, you know, Little Cayuse told how Hip. Loo had tried to get him to take the Chinamen to it. It may be, also, that the Chinamen know of the treasure which the Joss i is supposed ey be | looking after.” “Then they’re trailin’ arter us, $ ‘posin’ we'll lead ” "en ter ther Joss?” “Possibly. Unless T am mightily ihistker Nick, Hip Loo was in that room next to mine last night listening to the talk you and I had together. 1 spoke. about the treasure, you remember, and how the mechanical part of the idol is supposed to be worked. After we had gone to bed, immediately following the talk, the Chink & cut the canvas partition, came into my room, and tried to make off with that letter of the stone-cutter’s.” -“— reckon ye got et right, Buffler, jes’ as us’al. ef we got ter fight ther Chinks an’ ther Piutes afore we. blow up thet “Joss, we might jes’ as well begin on ther Chinks right hyar.” ; bbe old man’s eyes snapped dangerously. . ~ No,” said Buffalo Bill, “well wait. The average Chink isn’t much of a hand for fighting, and I don’t be- lieve that these hatchet- boys have any idea of going after us that way. ‘hey’re trailing us, in order to let us lead them to the idol. When we start again, we ll double around through the hills and lose them.” At that moment Little Cayuse came sliding down the slope. “Aire ther Chinks in gunshot, kidr’ demanded Old Nomad, gr ipping his rifle and rising to his feet. “No see um,” answered the boy. “No come now. No can tell where um. gone. Chink heap fox. . Pa-has-ka watch out.” Old Nomad settled back on the rocks and dropped his rifle beside him. “Veto unin. Buffer, 2 said he, Ther Chinks | hev found out the we're hyar, an’ they’ ve gone inter catnp ter wait fer. us ter move on agin. When we hike o at ther edge | © evenin’, we'll blind our trail an’ lose ’em.’ When two trained bordermen like Buffalo Bill and Nick Nomad made up their minds that this was sort of game the Chinamen were playing, about 1 safest guess that was possible had been made. They were not fighting Indians now, but wily Celestials, who ~ can go a crafty Indian one better any day you can find in the almanac. The pards should have taken this into consideration,. bie they did not. Their horses were feeding under their eyes, and they, had their guns teady for instant use. Every precaution Ree SES eos EaACt ke seemingly had been taken to ward off 4 sitrprise. Little Cayuse, however, was restless. .He seemed to fear that some vague trouble was impending. Roaming around ney the gully in which his white friends had pitched their camp, he carried his rifle over the curve of his arm and 7 looked and. listened with the eyes and ears of a cat. a : Suddenly he gave a jump and let off a yell. With tok every muscle fixed and rigid, he pointed toward the top nets of the spur and stood like a statue. om Looking in the direction of his poimting finger, the two white men gazed in wonder at what they saw. A ire black ball, started by unseen hands from the crest of the n Oo! spur, was rolling down the slope directly toward them. 3 ‘The ball was perhaps two feet in diameter. It rolled Bill easily, and for all the noise it caused it might have the . » been hollow, made of rubber, and filled with air. “What ther tarnation do yeh call thet. pizen thing?” _. ‘whooped Old Nomad, as the ball glided past him and ittle -came to a halt not more than six feet away, against a pile take B01 stones. unen = y As he spoke, the trapper whipped out a knife and 70 be * __ leaped toward the ball. 4 ‘Back, old pard!” warned Buffalo Bill; “don’t tamper [ ‘em _ with the thing. There’s no telling what the Chinks are | up to.. We'll go up the hill and see who rolled the ball . Hip down on us. gos the horses, Cayuse.” ening Old Nomad drew back, staring hard at the ball, and t the the scout started to mount the slope. He had not taken _ part two steps upward when a blazing arrow darted out from. > had behind a boulder, near the crest ae the ridge, and flashed Chink past him. He turned to.-watch: tried The arrow struck the ball, and, in a twinkling, there was a lurid burst of flame. No explosion accompanied es the tremendous geyser of fire, but a huge volume of re we black smoke rolled in a wave from the point where the 1 ther _ball had lodged. The wave of vapor filled the gully, and er ‘Buffalo Bill found himself completely enveloped by a stifling, gaseous atmosphere. verage He called hoarsely for Nomad, and stumbled a few n't he- steps down the slope; then his knees crumpled beneath eon’ him and he pitched head first wee the rocks. to let The scout’s senses fled, and he knew no more. , well : , wh. the : CHAPTER Vit. ad Old ) A DISCOURAGING SITUATION. W. NO Buffalo Bill awoke, to find himself still strangling on -has-ka the poisonous fumes. He sat up on the rocks and rubbed a a dazed hand over his eyes. ped his The sun was low in the west, and the mysterious black : vapor had rolled away, leaving the air of the gully as ks hev clear and pure as it had ever been. At the place where Tt Calip the ball had lodged, and where the fiery arrow had ike ot pierced. it with stich an incredible effect, there was only se ‘em. (a smudge of sooty black on the pile of stones. Bill and “Buffler!’” panted a voice off to the scout’s right. was th Buffalo Bill looked in that direction and saw Old yout: tl Nomad, sitting up and staring in his direction with a a Th face of blank. bewilderment. als.) “How are you, Nick?” asked the scout. can fi f ‘Give et up, Buffler. What was thet thet struck us, this fac phey? Volcaner busted loose, wasn’t et? I shore smelt ‘sulfur, an’.a hull lot more things thet wasn’t night so - and they fagree’ble ter my fastijious sense er smell. An’ thet recaution arte tna tae ms ito Sas I POU PN HAE UNE MITRE PRN pn S: we Shee ss SHU RR AN i mee: ohh St ely ine ey cha ee REE tI at THE BUPEALO BILL, STORIES. smoke! Jumpin’ catérmounts, but thar was er slather of et! Seemed like et kivered ‘ther hull er Sugar noe Peak. i; _ “That was.a sort of volcano, Nick,” said the. scout, “ getting slowly to his feet. “But the Chinks made it and rolled it down on us; then they set it off with-a fire- arrow.” “Et shore ain’t no. way ter fight. But I kain’t under- stand how all thet smoke an’ smell come out er thet leetle ball.” “The ball contained compressed gases of some sort, Nick. Who ever knew a Chink to fioht or do anything else in the white man’s way? That, I suppose, was a fire-ball; and it was loaded with poisonous vapor in- tended to smother us or hang us up so we'd be helpless for a_ while.” “Waugh! Blame queer ther yaller fiends didn’t knife us W hile’ they had us down an’ out.” “T have heard of such balls as that, but I’never thought we'd meet up with one this afternoon.’ “Some feller says, Buffler, thet et’s ther onexpected thet happens,” murmured the old man. “Thet’s what bumped inter us, all right. We was both shy ‘a few when we settled et thet ther Chinks was plannin’ ter trail us ter ther Jasper Joss. They was layin’ ter pull off this hyar deal all ther time. But whar’s Cayuse?” “i told him te “watch the horses.” As Buffalo Bill spoke, his eyes wandered along the valley toward the place where the horses had been picketed. The whole extent of the small valley lay under his eyes, but the horses were not there. The scout glanced at the spot where he had slept in the shade with his saddle for a pillow. The saddle and bridle were gone! “Them Chinks hev run off ther animiles!” gasped Old Nomad, resting his. startled eyes on his pard. “Looks | like they’ ’d made’a clean haul, Nick,” returned the scout. “They even took the trouble to get our riding-gear.” Old Nomad jumped inte the air and shook his fists. “Waugh!” he yelled. “Ther pizen yaller mugs warn’t satersfied- ter hev a dozen agin’ us, but they gotter play us thet heathen trick with ther fire-ball, put us ter sleep with thet pesky gas, an’ then run off our hosses. I'd like ter hev ther hull passel er yaller tin horns under ther pint er my cums ft wonder Nebby wd go with ‘em. ) Hes a white man’s hoss, Nebby is, an’ He hates er. Chink as much as L-do. Ef [.don’t: git Nebby back, I’m: shore goin’ ter clean up every pizen Cl unk in this hyer kentry !” The scout raised his voice high and called for Little Cayuse. There was no answer. “Hip Loo has taken the boy, as w ell as the horses,” frowned the scout. “This begins to look bad for us, Nick. If we can't get the boy hack. and the horses, too, there'll be no finding that idol. The yellow thieves have even taken our rations, and the blasting-material I had brought to blow tip the Joss.” “An’ our guns,’ rapped out the furious old trapper. © “They've took our guns, Buffler! Did ye ever hear tell er sich pesky work?” : Old Nomad was right. Rifles and revolvers were gone, even the hunting- knives which the two pards had had in their belts. “They've pulled our fangs, all right enough,” growled Nomad, glaring around as though itching for the sight of a queue- -topped head. “Without hosses, er grub, er shoot- in’-irons, er Leetle Cayuse ter show us whar, ter go, epg ey fam pean ce te ple ote Fone THE BUPFALO weve shore got our hands in ther air. Waugh! This -hyar's ther wust piece er luck thet ever ha ppened ter us, Buffler.”’ “No Cody scout grimly. The old man grunted savagely, and dug his heels into the gravel. “We ort ter hev rode out an’ tackled them pigtail heathens while they was ridin’ to’rds ther peak, acrost thet devel stretch er ground, Buffler;’ said he. “We could hey wound ‘em up then, an’ they wouldn’t hev\had no chanst.ter roll thet thar fire-ball down on us, and set et on, « : “No. use regretting’ what we.can't help, old pard,” said Buffalo Bill. “They” ve taken that letter of Duane’ S, -too,” he added, feeling in his pocket. “Ets a wonder they left us our ha’r ironically. _ “That's where they made a mistake, Nick, They failed ‘to put you and me out of the way when they had a chance. but it won't do them any good,” “How dye figger et, Buffler ?” “Well, they stole that document, and they spirited Little Cayuse away, so that they could hang us up here and go on to the Joss.” “Thet’s how I savvy et.” “But. that letter of Duane’s doesn’t tell them how to reach the part of Death Valley. Avkere the idol is, and Pll bet something handsome ther isn’t a Chink in the outfit that can read English, So the letter won’t do them any good.” “But thar’s Leetle Cayuse, ‘Buffler. He must er been knocked out by ther gas like we was when they toted him off. ‘Course they. took him ter show 2em ther way ter ther Joss.”’ . “That. was why they took him, Nick, but if I know Little Cayuse he'll never lead them to the idol.” “Waugh! Ye kin bet he won't. Hip Loo tried ter git-him ter do et oncet, an’ he wouldn’t; an’ ther hull gang er Chinks kain’t skeer him inter doin’. et now. Ther gang ain’t done nothin’ ter help theirselves, Buffler, jes’ as ye say, but they’ve done plenty ter put us out er ther runnin’. e Silence fell over the two, while each ransacked his brain for some way out of their ‘desperate situation. “We. kain’t cross ther desert ter Mojave Camp on ee with no water between hyar an’ thar, an’ no grub er eat,” went on Old Nomad finally, in a musing fone, “an’ I don’t’ Peak goncet in six months, in ther ord’nary, course 0’ evénts.. Met oby we kin live on chahwallas, though pus- sonly Dd: as soon eat er taranch, less’n et was ter keep body an’ soul tergether.” “We're in a hard row of stumps, Nick,” scout, rising and starting out of the gully. “Whar yes goin’, Buffler ?” asked Nomal, starting after him. “Going to see what sort of a trail they left,” the scout answered. “The sun is getting low, and if we do any looking around we've got to do it now.” “Kerect,” answered the old man. “‘I’m‘so plumb flab- bergasted by what’s happened, I ain’t able ter think like what I ort, Et was Catermount Tom as useter say thet a Chink is on’y a monkey with his tail in ther wrong place. Wisht I was among thet gang o’ yaller mugs fer luck about this 3; eh, Nick?” returned the » said Old Nomad said the What they have done is going to hinder us, reckon a white man comes ter Sugar Loaf BILL. STORIES. erbout sixty Aowlin’ seconds. I'd show ’em more kinds er fire-balls than they ever thort of. 1 would so,” An examination of the tracks, beyond the gully’s mouth, showed where the horses had been driven. off. Farther along the horse-trail was a place where anotli fot of horses had joined those belonging: to fan in Bill and his party. The trail taken by the triumphant China men led northward. “They have started in the direction of Death Valley, anyway, remarked the scout.”, — “Leetle Cayuse wasn’t guidin’ ’em, Ill bet, Buffler.”’ “Hardly. When the Chink outfit went over this part of the trail, Little Cayuse hadn't yet recovered from the effects of that poisonous gas. He couldn’t have guided any one.’ By that time the sun had set and evening was coming on, A purple haze wrapped the edge of the desert, deepening in the east to twilight. The top of Sugar Loaf Peak glimmered softly in the last rays of the sun, but no other eminence caught the light. “We'll have to go into camp, Nick,” said Buffalo Bill. “We can't follow the Chinamen’s trail by night.” “Ner we kain’t foller et afoot by day with any hope of overtakin’ ther thievin’ Chinks, Buffler,” returned the old man. ma ney.Vve shore got us whar ther feller had ther woodchuck, an’ I kain’t see ba The scout suddenly caught his pard’s arm. said he sharply. . Buffalo Bul bent his head in listening attitude, then dropped to his knees and laid his. ear to the. ground. Old Nomad did likewise. ‘“Hosses!’”’ breathed Nomad: this hyar way, Buffler.” “That's about my idea, Nick,” returned the scout grimly, “The Chinks, I suppose, are coming back— possibly to make short work of us. We'll wait “for them here, and then———” - “We'll go fer ther varmints with our hands!” gritted Old Nomad. x “Listen !” Hehe: aire shore comin’ CHAPTER VIII. LITTLE CAYUSE|S. CLEVER WORK, Little Cayuse, it. will be remembered, had been told by Buffalo Bill to keep watch of the horses. He had started to obey orders when the ball came rolling down the hill; then he waited long enough to witness the flight of the flaming arrow, to see the elare and huge volume of black smoke, and to inhale the brain- -benumbing-fumes, . A hiatus intervened for him as for the others. When he gasped and opened his eyes, his hands and feet were tied, and he was in the arms of. Hip Loo, who was astride a scrawny cayuse. All around Hip Loo was an odd collection of China- men. They were of all shapes: and sizes, long and short, thin and fat, the most of them mounted on horses long overdue at the bone- yard, The little Piute was a boy of quick wit, and it wasn’t long after his brain cleared of the sense-robbing vapor before he had figured out just what had happened. He saw his horse, and the one ridden by Buffalo Bill, and the one ridden by Nomad, each in tow of a scoun- drelly Chinaman. His keen eyes even detected the rifles and revolvers and knives of his white friends hanging hess \ ~ ; ; BD Warts hoster As Seb eeu Sy aps lee ALE ee lag LEG CAG ara Me a th ie A te tt a ee te rt Nt out kK Nein) tted dbx irted hill ; - the slack Jhen were Was 1ina- and orSses asnt rapor Bil -Oull- rifles Vor ging 7 iillarmeaHeaeh Sn cas A et ae _, Little Cayuse was sorry he UCR tren apa theo a A ie THE BOUPRALO from the horns of their empty saddles, and also the pro- vision-haversacks at the cantles, His own pinto, the gift of Pa-has-ka, was trailing along behind a Chinaman who was carrying the small repeating rifle, How the boy’s eyes snapped when he saw his horse and rifle in the hands of the thieves! At once his shrewd mind began working on the ways and means for ef- fecting an escape and getting back his own horse and weapon and the horses.and weapons of his friends, Buffalo Biull and Nomad, the woli-slayer, had been stripped of almost everything and left at the spring by Sugar Ikoaf Peak. What would they do without their horses, their guns, their provisions? Little Cayuse asked himself this question in his primitive Indian way, and with the usual Indian resourcefulness decided that he must escape and return to the peak with all the horses and all the accouterments. That was quite a large order for a boy, bound hand and foot and held captive by ten villainous Chinamen. But he did not think of the difficulties ; he thought only of what he must do, looking forward to the end rather than to the means of accomplishing it. He had a racial antipathy for Chinamen. They were bunglers in plainscraft, the thing the Indian held of most importance in life. The Chinamen did not even know how to knot a thong about a prisoner’s wrists so that it would hold. Little Cayuse, still lying in Hip Loo’s arms, strained with his wrists and felt certain that, when the proper moment had arrived, he could slip free of the cord that bound his hands. The Chinamen were chattering like so many magpies. “no savvied’’ the language. If he could have understood the talk he might have dis- covered something of the utmost importance to Pa-has-ka fee Nomad. ‘He saw one fat Chinaman in a dirty blue blouse wab- D hiing along on an old horse. Tied to the back of the horse, behind the Chinaman, was one of the queer black balls which had caused so much havoc at Sugar Loaf Peak. . It was a queer sight to see the fat Chinaman and the ball bobbing along on the same skmny horse. Little Cayuse would: havh laughed outright if he had not been playing a waiting game. But that ball was big medicine. It was the kind of medicine which Little Cavisse had never seen before. He wished he knew how to make such powerful medicine. If he had had the secret of it, he could have been medi- cine-man for any band of Piutes that roamed the plains. There was only one medicine-ball left among the China- men. Little Cayuse was glad of that. He had a a whole- some fear for the medicine- balls, and was glad the fat Chinaman was riding a good way from Hip Loo. He saw another long yellow face with a bow and half a dozen arrows at his back. The arrows were bound with some cloth stuff and looked yellow, as though soaked in oil. That long yellow face, the boy made up his mind, was the one that had launched the fire-arrow and set the medicine-ball te working. The Chinamen did not seem ie be very well armed. Some of them carried old-fashioned revolvers that fired with a brass cap, When Little Cayuse compared the = Mm obsolete weapons with his own repeating rifle, he felt a hearty contempt for a Chinaman who would tote such an old boom-boom gun as a, brass-cap revolver. y A et El loan one a -derful lot of-braves! BILL STORIES 99 One or two of the yellow faces had shotguns, and a few more had only long knives. Oh, they were a won- “If. Little Cayuse had had free hands, and had been seated’ astride his pinto with his new rifle, he would willingly have faced the entire outfit. The course the Chindmen were taking was due north, in the direction of Death Valley. They. might reach the valley, but they would never find the Joss! Little Cayuse would have let them burn him at the stake before he would lead them to Pa-has-ka’s idol. ‘After an hour or more on the northward trail, Hip Loo turned off into. the hills. The sun was perhaps an hour high when the leader of the yellow gang drew rein at an old water-hole, where there was a.thieket Of mes- quite with beans for the horses, Hip Loo looked around and chattered sores in. his shrill, high-pitched voice. The “rest of the China- men chattered back, like a lot of jackdaws,. Then they all bunched together and tumbled off their ‘horses. The awkwardness of these yellow-faces filled the boy with contempt. He would have liked to jeer ‘at them, but that would not be playing the game. Hip Loo handed Little Cayuse to the long Chinaman with the bow and arrows. The boy kept his eyes tightly shut and hung limp and apparently lifeless in the long Chinaman’s arms, The prisoner was carried to one side and Jaid near some mesquite-bushes, While the rest of the gang busied themselves making camp, Hip Loo and the long yellow- face stood near Little Cayuse, looked down at him, toed him with their sandals, and chattered. Winally they went away, and Little Cayuse opened his eyes and watched— watched everything like a hawk. He saw just where they put the weapons belonging to a self and to Parhas-ka and Nomad, and he saw that they put the haversacks of rations in the same place, for white man’s food was not the kind the yellow-faces pre- ferred. They had brought along their rice and their tin teapots. Some of them, gathering greasewood-brush, lighted a fire. One went to the water-hole, filled a kettle, and put it over. to boil. Then Little Cayuse saw something that made him nervous. The fat Chinaman had left the medicine-ball within two yards of where Little Cayuse was lying. The horses, the boy saw, were put out to graze a ‘few rods away. [is pinto, and the horses belonging to Pa- has-ka and Nomad, were together. A fierce desire burned: in Little Cayuse’s breast. If he had only been possessed of the right kind of medi- cine to blind the eyes of these yellow- faces, so they might not see him while he got the property belonging to him; self and his white friends! What was he to do?’ How was he to do it? The sun was getting low. The Chinamen were ma- king their tea and squatting around the fire, chattering, chattering, chattering! How the boy hated that yellow- face palaver! Suddenly he had a thought. peak had given up its medicine when touched with a blazing arrow. Would that medicine-ball near him do the same if it was brought in contact with fire? Much as he hated to touch the ball, Little Cayuse con- cluded to make the attempt. Slowly he owriggled free of the cords that encircled his wrists. The Chinamen were chattering over their tea and rice, and did not pay ‘The medicine-ball at the - i als E DEM eas = hati a msi hoe nen gsm enemy tench vn me i F K en THR RUPFALO BILL STORIES = any attention to him. Rising to a sitting-posture, he freed his ankles. Now was his time!/ _ Gritting his teeth together, he crawled like a snake to the ball. He laid hold of it. It was not heavy. But it was full of evil spirits, and: Little Cayuse trembled like a leaf, fearing the spirits might be released before the ball touched the fire: Planting his feet firmly, he rolled the ball with all his strength straight at the fire. The Chinamen saw the ball coming—bit not until it was too late to stop it. One of them sprang for it, but the ball glided on into the fire. The yellow-faces began to screech like so Les fright- ened § atamounts. There® was another flash of fire, like that ae boy had seen at Sugar Loaf Peak; then there was more smoke, horrible, black, seemingly reaching sky-high. But Little Cayuse was out of the smoke pall. As soon as he had started the ball for the fire he had turned and run as though all,the evil spirits in the thing were after him. At last, from a near-by eminence, he found the courage to turn and gaze back. The screeching had died out as if by magic. Under the level rays of te sun, the smoke demons were slowly drifting away. Light pierced the fog, and he»could see forms under the hovering canopy of vapor. The forms lay still and silent about the fire, pitched over on the sand at full length, their tin cups and tin’ plates still in their hands. — “Heap big medicine!’ cooed Little Cayuse. “Medicine all same good for white men and Piute, all same yellow- faces | Hoop- -a-la!” He went for the horses. With quick, eager fingers he unhitched them from the bushes to which they were secured. The Chinamen had not removed the saddles or bridles. Slowly, watchfully, he led the three horgés toward the silent camp. Not one of the Chinamen stirred. ‘Heap big medicine!” chuckled Little Cayuse. He gathered up the guns, taking great care to secure the scout’s rifle to his own particular horse, and No- mad’s to Nebby’s saddle. The revolver-belts with their attached weapons he made fast to the pommels. Lastly he picked up the provision-bags and secured them to the saddle-cantles. The knives he also found and put in the belt-sheaths. Then, when all this was accomplished, he took his own small rifle in his hands, jumped_to the _ pinto’s back, and rode off with the other two horses trail- ing behind. “Heap big medicine!” he cried, and gave a shrill laugh, then put all three horses to the “gallop. He knew that country like an open book. Daytime or night-time, traveling through it was all one ‘to him. course was a bee-line for Sugar Loaf Peak. The sun went down, but far, far ahead he could see the glimmering rays caught by the high crest of the peak and shining out to him like a beacon. “Heap big medicine!” he said again, and choked with the mirth that bubbled up in him. That journey: back to Sugar Loaf Peak was cov- ered in one-third the time the yellow-faces had taken to do it, going the other way. But a yellow-face is a washee-washee, and horses are not in his line. Little Cayuse, riding one horse and leading two, was close to the peak now. He was looking and listening, in the gathering shadows, for some sign of Pa-has-ka and, Nomad. Then, like a bullet from a ‘bun, some one leaped at ~ him from a brush-thicket. pan he. pinto stopped and reared His i ye iter full pardnership, right hyar an’ now. NO ONES RR SEN SSR RRR age at aii ge ee mtr back. Little Cayuse felt himself gripped by the throat, almost strangled, and torn from the pony’s bare back. re thumped down on the ground, and felt a knee on his breast. “Great blazes, Nick!” shouted a familiar voice, “these are our horses, and they have empty saddles. Who have you there?” “Waugh, Buffler,” answered another familiar voice, over the boy’s face, “I ain’t had no time ter examine.’ Hasty steps crunched the sand. A match was.scratched. Little Cayuse’s eyes were almost popping from his head with the stricture at his throat, but he could see, as through a haze, that it was Pa-has-ka who tad struck the matth. “Well, blazes!” gasped Pa-has-ka; “it’s Little Cayuse, and he has brought our mounts.” “a The hands fell away from the boy’s throat and Nomad jumped up. “Ther leetle son of a gun!” muttered Nomad. CHAPTER IX. ae ON TO DEATH VALLEY. 4 “Wuh!” said Little Cayuse, sitting up and grabbing for his cherished rifle which had fallen from his hands when he had been jerked from the pinto’s back. “Don’tathat beat all creation, Buffter?”’ came in an awed tone from Old Nomad. “Ther kid got erway from ther pizen Chinks, an’ brought ther’ hosses.” “He has done better than that,” said Buffalo Bill. He has brought our guns, too, and our rations. If we ever get back to the settlement again I'll do something hand- some for this littie prize Piute.’’ | “Never seen his ekal nowhar!” jubilated the trappers slapping Nebby’s neck. Buffalo Bill went over to where Little. Cayuse Was rubbing the sand off his rifle. - Little chief, Said: he, taking the boy's hand; brave. “Wuh!? grunted Little Cayuse, and ae bare, brown breast sw elled and his blood tingled. He had done something pretty good, he knew, or Pa-has-ka would never speak to him, like that. Old Nomad came around, stooped over, picked the boy up in his arms, and gave him a bear’s hug. at yen was @ s hade lighter, Cayuse,” said he, “blamed ef. 1 wouldn’t adopt ye. Dunno but 1 will anyways. Ye're ther banner Piute o7 all ther Piutes thet ever was. However did ye do et?” “Heap big medicine!” laughed Little Cayuse. That was the happiest hour of his life. He thought Sea _he was happy when Buffalo Bill gave him the horse and the gun; but that joy was as nothing compared with the delightful thrill that went through him as he listened to the approving words of his white friends. ~~ Say!’ he went on, with a little shiver of ecstasy in his voice, Nomad?” “me pard, huh? Pard Pa-has-ka and pard fF) “We takes Ef I had any . terbacker erbout my clothes, son, ye wouldn't hev ter ask me twicet.” “No chaw um terback no more, no smoke um. Pa- has-ka say no good for te Cayuse.” 2 i “Waal, I reckon!’ whooped ‘the trapper. + Tae ag Dae ER Ne a oi es fa a ae ». Vaulted THE BUFFALO said the scout, patting him on You've got the “That's right, Cayuse,” the shoulder. “No tobacco, no fire-water. making of a great man in you, if you'll leave those things - alone. How did you get away from the Chinks?” ~ “Chinks make um camp, make um fire. -Little Cayuse “make like possum, you savvy. All same think: Little Cayuse asleep. Chinks got odder medicine-ball. Little Cayuse get hands from rope, roll medicine-ball into fire, heap fire, heap smoke, Chinks heap sleep. Me get um horse, get um grub, get um gun. Run. Umph! Nomad nake um choke.” It took some time for this abbreviated © explanation to be comprehended. When it was, finally, Old Nomad laughed until he strangled. | “Ther kid played ther. same game on them, Buffler,” said Nomad, between his spastns of mirth, “thet they worked on us. He rolled one 0’ ther medicine-balls inter ther fire an’ laid out ther hull bunch er Chinks. Wow! . Hoop-a-la! Wisht I had er suitable way ter show my feelin’s. Buffler, when I stole this hyar forlern red in- fant away from ther wolves, I shore got a prize- package.” “You did, no two ways about that,” returned the scout. Bat standing here talking isn’t getting us any closer to Death Valley. While the Chinks are sleeping off the effects of their own medicine, we ought to be oe the trail for the next SPH. i “Right ye aire,” setd Old Nomad, sobering up. wahar’s pe time ter jubilatin’~an a tite fer cuealiy an doin’ of other things. But Leetle Cayuse stands ace-high with We, Us an’ Comp’ny, from now on.” “He does,” answered the scout, taking his belt from ‘the saddle-horn and buckling it about his waist. Old Nomad did the same; then both he and the scout into their saddles and turned north. Little Cayuse, on the pinto, calmly rode into the lead. “Yed think now, Buffler, from ther way thet kid acks, thet he hadn’t done anythin’ wuth mentionin’. But he’s shore saved this hyar expedition of ours, an’ mebby kept us from gittin’ done up in ther hills. We was in a powerful bad way, Buffler, without nothin’ ter eat, er anythin’ ter shoot with, er any ‘thin’ ter ride. He’s brought ‘em all ter us.’ . He has,’ agreed Buffalo Bill, work we'll not “forget.” The next sunrise found the little party on Ash Creek, comfortably encamped among the hills, close to an old Indian trail.. They were almost due east of Death Val- ley, and nearly opposite that identical part of the desert— according to Little Cayuse—where the idol was to be found. A day’s “and it’s a piece of camp, and then they would push westward and reach the Jasper Joss. before sunrise. “Him easy find now,” said Little Cayuse. me watch.” “Not on yer life, Cayuse, a snooze yerself as soon as ye put erway yer share o’ “You sleep, ” answered Old Nomad. “Get ther grub. Then [ll call Buffler.” _ Buffalo Bill and Little Cayuse slept in the shade, while Old Nomad waited and watched for possible signs of Chinks. He wanted the Chinks to come—in fact, he was mortally afraid they wouldn’t—for he was itching to even up old scores with them. The scout: was still sleeping Tm on picket-duty till noon. at noon when Little ‘Little EN MP NOPE INT IA ORERRS HR COREE ITAL TS SPR NS SEN II SG SERENE Oe BILL STORIES. Cayuse turned over, got up, ‘and’ ‘approached te where Old Nomad was sitting on a rock on. a low fie “Go take um sleep,’ said the ‘boy. “Me watch.’ “Reckoned ye'd Be done up, Cay use, from. ther amount o’ work ye done last night.” “Umph!”. grunted Little Cayuse, «Me Piute !” Those two last words answered the trapper pretty ae fectually. Little Cayuse was a Piute, and it took more than a bout with a lot of Chinamen and an all- night ride to put him on the retired-list. Old Nomad/ crept away to the bushes and was soon snoting. Little Cayuse, sitting on top of the rock re- cently "vacated by the trapper, watched vigilantl ly. and played with that wonderful rifle Pa-has- oy had given him. : He polished the firearm with an old handkerchief, un-’ bound from his wounded foréarm for the purpose. The wolf bite had not been severe, and the boy had merely bound it up to keep the blood from running. After polishing the weapon for a while, he would lift it to his shoulder and aim at different objects in his vicinity ; then he would “break” the piece at the breach, look at the shell nestling in the “death-chamber,” and wonder when he was ever going to use it. Suddenly, as.-he swetved his sharp eyes from the rifle to the Indian trail, he gave a quick grunt and turned backward head over heels off the rock. Like lightning the boy gathered himself up, hung to his gun, and rushed down the descent leading to the place where Buffalo Bill and Old Nomad were ‘sleeping. “Pa-has-ka! Pa-has-ka!” the boy cried} shaking the . SCOUT, Buffalo Bill rose up. “That you, Cayuser” ways?” ‘Heap Putte. he asked: “What's gone cross- Come ee ns trail.” “What of et, kid?’ a cked: Old Nomad, also rising and listening, ° “Ther p hk won't dast ter lay hands He Ley hevn’t dug up ther Heleliet yet, noways.’ “When Pinte find out Pa-has-ka and Nomad go to Death Valley, um Piute heap mad. Piute go valley dance the medicine ‘round Jasper Joss. Make um mad have yellow-eyes come.” “The boy’s.a Piute, and he ought to know Piutes, Nick,” said Buffalo Bill. “Ii a lot of the reds are going along that Indian trail, we'd better back into the bushes.’ Fes) as ye say, Buffer.” The Indian trail could be easily seen from the camp, winding along on the opposite side of the river. The horses had been tethered where they were not easily to be seen from the trail, but the scout and the trapper would have been in plain evidence if a Piute’s eye happened to turn in their direction. Both Buffalo Bill and Nomad backed into the brush. Cayuse did the same thing after kicking the riding-gear out of sight. Then, foun their bushy coverts, all three kept their eyes on the spot where. tlie © Indian trail wound into sight from behind a hill apres. Q the river. They had not long to wait. One mounted Piute after another glided into view from the rear of the hill. Buffalo Sill counted fifteen before the file of reds stopped com- ing. "The Piutes were not in war-paint, but they were weli- mounted, well-armed and thére was a particularly busi- nesslike look to the band. up on THE "BUFFALO Just: wien se Bout atnuetit ie warriors were go- ing to file-by: without. detecting the presence of the party across the river, Buffalo Bill ‘heard the: boy’s pinto give a whinny. The. whinny was answered by the Pinte’s horses. “The next moment every Piute had splashed. into the thin stream and was heading for the opposite bank. CHAPEFER: X. UNEXPECTED GOM PLICATIONS. Buffalo Bill, ‘seeing that further hiding was useless, _came coolly out, from among the bushes and walked down to the river’s-edge to meet the Indians. Nomad went side by side with him, and Little Cayuse trailed along inthe rear, All three carried their guns significantly ready for use. a ‘Me know um Piute,” said Little Cayuse, as the three stood waiting for the reds to reach the shore “Him Elk Tooth’s band, Little Cayuse’s band. My father Snake-that-Rattles. Him there.” : “Yoré father’s a sarpint, all right, son,’ declared No- mad, ‘Never heerd tell er sich er varmunt. Any red as ‘ud sell his son fer a bottle’ « er whisk’ ort ter be strung up by his measly neck,” The foremost of the Thain splashed up on the bank and dropped from their horses. , “How ?” said one, advancing toward Buffalo Bill with outstretched hand. oe “How? sthe scout answered, taking the hand. A red stone pipe was brought out, and two of the In- dians dropped down on the rocks with the scout and his pard while the kinnikinic was burned and the pipe passed from hand to hand. “Humph!” said the leader of the band. ‘Tooth, heap brave. Big Injun.” “Me Pa- has-ka,” returned the scout, Long- Hair “Waugh !” chipped in the trapper, Slaven Elk Tooth had head of Pa-has-ka and Nomagl, and he w as deeply impressed by this unexpected meeting with them. “Where um Pa-has-ka go?” he asked. (Phe dande ie dre: replied the scout, with dignity. “Pa-has-ka go whither he will.” Elk Tooth blinked his little eyes. “Pa-has-ka. has said,” said he. “It is right for Pa- has-ka to go and come as he wishes, but Pa-has- ka no right take. um. Piute boy. /Little Cayuse him b’long “Me Elk Snake-that-Rattles, Snake-that-Rattles him b'long Elk Tooth’s band.” ‘Howlin’ hyeners!” muttered Old Nomad. ‘Tryin’ ter take ther kid away from us, hey? I’d fight ther hull outfit single-handed afore I’d let him go.’ ® Elk Tooth had his eye on Little Cayuse’s rifle. scout. had no. difficulty The in drscovering that the chief wanted the gun and didn’t care two straws. about the boy. “Little Cayuse does not belong to Snake-that-Rattles,” said Buffalo Bill. “‘Snake-that- Poe sold Little Cayuse for a bottle of, fire- water. Little Cayuse is not for Elk Tooth’s-band any more.’ “He is .Piute,’ insisted the chief, “his heart is Piute.” - “Et don’t make no diff’rence whether his heart is Piute BILL STORIES. you. Tooth, no like um Snake-that- Strikes. Yellow- -eyes Little Cayuse’s friend... Little Cayuse go with “Da-has-ka, the “me heap Bear- % Read a bead on Elk Tooth’s heart. scalp,” pa “ther kid ain't fer growled Old Nomad, Ef ye come crow- -hoppin’ eround ter git holt er him, old cut-an’-slash, I’m durned ef I don’t kick yer. er Piegan,’ Thet’s me, flat-footed. - an’ ther Jateh-string’s out. drap in.’ “That’s pretty vigorous, Nick,” muttered the scout. “Keep your hand on your gun and your finger on the trigger. Elk Tooth’s setting restive.” “Elk Tooth has many warriors, “Pa-has-ka has only himself and ae white brother. Let Pa-has-ka smoke and reflect, because it is well that he gives up the boy.” “Pa-has-ka does not have to smoke and reflect. We will ask the boy if he wants to go with the Piutes or with his white friends. If he chooses the Piutes, well and good. tide on without him.” ~“Umph?!’.grunted the chief. “Little Cayuse!” called the scout. The boy stepped out in front of his people, his eyes ine his rifle tightly gripped in his hands. Elk Tooth, his cupidity getting the better of his reserve, reached out to take the rifle. The boy jerked it away and glared at the head of-his tribe. Ce pee “AT! ther pizen skunk wants is ther kid’s gun,” tered Nomad. | “Little Cayuse,” said Buffalo Bill, “your father. sold you to the whites. According to the white’man’s law he had no right to do this, but according to the red man’s law he had. Do you want to go with your people, or do you want)to go with us?” “Hump!” grunted Little Cayuse. , -[m right ter home all ther time, Ef yere’ pinin’ fer trouble, mrut- “No like um Elk Heap bad Injun. y ellow-eyes.” The chief snapped out Someta anerily in hic own tongue. Little Cayuse whirled on ‘the chief like a wolf cub: and gave him.as good as he sent. Then the chief jumped at the boy, and the boy, fully as quick as the . chief, jumped back, threw his rifle to his shoulder, and Elk Tooth changed his mind about taking hold of Little Cayuse, and stood and. wondered what was going to happen. Buffalo Bill and Old Nomad arose swiftly and stepped to the boy’s side. “What did he say ter ye, kid?” asked Nomad. “Him say me go with Piutes or him take Little Cayuse’s answered the boy. “Let him try!” grunted the old man.’ “We’ll show ther varmint thet scalpin’s a game two kin play at.” “You make um Little Cayuse put up gun! e yelped Elk -Yooth, fingering his own rifle as though he itched to have a shot at the whites. “Keep him kivered, kid,” muttered Old Nomad. “Ef any o' ther gang makes a move agin’ us, put a bullet through ther “critter.” ; “Me shoot um,” answered the boy. take um scalp. Mebbyso Little-Cayuse go with Piute, Piutes sell Little Cayusé for anodder bottle whisk’.”’ The affair had drifted into an ugly situation. The Piutes, already considerably worked up against the whites on account of the use their’ medicine-men were ma- king of the Jasper Joss, were gripping their ens and slaring at the two men and the boy. In some manner one of the aon: succeeded in work- Eee the chief. Tf he chooses the white men, then ee Tooth must | ; ‘No let Elk Tooth — — ee * $ SS ae \e ° a re eicie a i EL RP ge NRT THE BUFFALO ing his way behind the position occupied by the two men and the boy. The first the pards knew of the redskin’s move was when the stealthy villain sprang forward and | struck eae Cayuse a blow in the back of the head with his fist. In a pernitiue: Old Nomad had inodied the Indian down. - This move was the spark needed to fire the maga- zine. Buffalo Bill realized that the moment the blow was struck and his pard had retaliated. At fifteen to three the odds against the white men were too great for a fight in the open. The king of scouts always. had a quick mind. in such emergencies as this. Ol d Nomad had har dly driven the redskin to” earth with his’ flinty fist before the scout. shouted: “Behind the rocks with the boy—quick !” Nomad was accustomed to obey his pard’s orders, for 3uffalo Bill had the knack of knowing the right thing to do at the right minute. The trapper, still hanging to his rifle, cathered up little Cayuse. Although little Cayuse was half-stunned and completely dazed, “he had not re- leased his weapon. As Nomad bounded for the rocks with his burden, Buf- falo Bill also bounded, but the other way. Before Elk Tooth had any idea what was happening, the scout had chim about the middle, had whirled him about for a breast- work against the Piutes’ threatening guns, and was po- king him in the ribs with the muzzle of a revolver. CHAPTER XT. WINNING OUT, AGAINST THE PIUTES, -Bofial lo Bill’s move in taking charge of the person of the chief was not a new one “with him, but it was the only one that promised any hope of success in the present emergency. _ Two or three bullets sped after Old Nomad and the ji | | boy, but in the excitement the missiles flew wide and the ‘two gained the rocks without meeting with disaster. Buf- q falo “Bill, with the chief stoutly held in front of him, ® faced the warriors and commanded their .attention with ES ~=Ssaa Sharp yell. The warriors turned, saw what was going “on, and gave no more ‘heed to Nomad and Little Cayuse. “Kill um, chief,’ sheuted the scout, “if Injuns make um shoot any more!” Elk Tooth squirmed under the point of the revolver. A dead silence fell over the red men. They were ripe for bloodshed, but they could not sacrifice their chief. There was a rine to the scout’s voice and a menace in his man- ner which proved bey ond all doubt that he meant busi- ness. “Tak € um gun away,” growled Elk Tooth. “No like nm,” ‘ ae 4 ooth,” said the scout sternly, “make Piutes cross - fiver, take trail, and ride away. E ‘Ik Tooth no do this, : oe 1 kill Elk Tooth.” Buffalo lifted his voice onde dded. “Let the Piute warriors hear! river and start on trail, Pa-has-ka kill Elk Tooth. A as moments of imaction followed these wor ds, Elk To beth gtunted angrily. EG ive | braves orders to move on, Elk Tooth,” said the Se SCOUL. ~~ Elk Tooth did not want to die. He was a pretty sensi- } He scan aN Pr RN ANN NTR Unless they cross _ I have’ snes ewaaarnnyntnr mt amen citer BILL STORIES. ble Indian wherever his own safety was concerned, and there was no earthly use of. 7 allowing ees has-ka to Piute with a new- faneled rifle. ‘The chief addressed the warriors in-his own Aone The warriors grunted, whirled around. to their horses, jumped to the ‘animals’ backs and rushed, for:.the river. They yelled like fiends as they went. When they had gained. the other side, they put their, horses to the gallop, waved their guns over their heads, discharged them into the air, and vanished along the trail. Releasing the chief, Buffalo Bill stepped back, covered him with his revolver, and ordered him to his horse. Elk Tooth did not stand upon the order of his going. Rushing to his waiting mount, he leaped astride, pushed across the stream, anc disappeared in the track of his braves. a “Ye done thet ter ther queen's taste, Buffler,”’ grinned Old Nomad. “But ever sence our clash with ther Cl hinks- 1 been pinin’ fer a ‘go’ with some ‘un: Ye shore sp’iled er good fight.” oN lucky thing for us that the fight was spoiled,” . swered the scout. ‘Our business, this trip, is first ae foremost to smash that idol. You can see what sort of a humor the Piutes are in on account of it. And these Piutes are on the way to dance the medicine. Ii they were coming back from Death Valley we might not have got off so easily. e Old Nomad and Little Cayuse were walking out from behind the rocks. “Pg-has-ka watch um Piutes,” said-the boy. “When Elk Tooth tell um Piutes go ’way, Elk Tooth say he git um yellow-eyes ‘fore. long. They lay for yellow-eyes in pass between here and Death ies Pa-has-ka fool um, mebbyso.” “How can we fool them, Cayuse: ?” asked the scout. “Make travel odder trail. Start now. Me know um way. Fool Piutes, make Elk Tooth feel like squaw. Wuh.” “Ther kid’s plumb full er good advice,” remarked Old Nomad admiringly. “We better foller et, Buffler, don't ye think?” “What he says sounds all right to me,” answered the scout. 1s there water between here and the valley, Cayuse?” asked the scout, addressing the boy. “Ne know um spring close to valley,” Cayuse. “Go ’round um Piutes. Piutes heap mad, Little Cayuse heap mad at Piutes. Umph!” “Then,” said the scout, “we'll saddle up and hit the trail.” » The horses were brought in, the riding-gear was got onto them, and the little party fared westward and south- ward. It was close to sundown when they started, and Little Cayuse was very careful to blind their trail and to follow the crooked little valleys that ran through the — hills. “No let Piute scouts see us,’ remarked Cayuse, “no let um pick up trail. Piutes got um bad heart, but got um eyes like weasel.” “T'll back ye agin ther hull Pie outfit, Cayuse,” Old Nomad. Night had fallen and was five or six hours gone when the little Pinte steered his white friends to a spring that trickled in a small stream out of a rocky hillside. said pn tinatlge teen ae yt ee Mr ee a Za scusiconiieat cami tenernced penvreercsieeesamertasbintearir eay ser imnetirs wenn meNosb replied Little | rs: THE BUFFALO “Last water this side desert, * said the boy. “‘Mebbyso we rest, feed horses ; then heap soon we get to idol.” We dodged. ther: Piutes, all right, Buffler,’ remarked the old trapper, as they dismounted and_ put out their horses. “Now ef we kin, reach thet idol, an’ blow ee up. afore ther reds git thar, I reckon we'll keep ’em from ‘dancin’ ther medicine an’ sittin’ reckless.” “We'll try to do that, Nick! ” answered Buffalo’ Bill. At midnight they saddled up-again. Then, still under the ‘guidance of their pluelcy little assistant, they fared. forth in the direction of Death Valley. They reached the rim of the desert suddenly, debouching upon it through a bleak sag in the hills. “At the rim, with the great flat “stretching westward like a calm sea, Little Cayuse pulled in his pinto and gave a wave of the hand. .. “Him: Death Valley,:Pa-has-ka,”’ said he. place.” “How far is the idol from here 5” Little Cayuse, lifting high on the pinto’s back, gazed sharply into the vast stretches of the starlit flat. “Mebbyso two aac he answered, settling back on -the pony, 0 “Good! We're in trim for the dash, Cayuse. If we can find water in the desert, we'll stay neat the idol all ue to-morrow.’ “No find um water, Pa- oe ea “I believe there is a spring in the desert that, you In- _dians, know nothing about. However, we'll give our at- tention. to. that later. oo Ride, on: : Buffalo Bill was thinking about the camp mentioned by the crazy stone-cutter. “As the scout figured it, this camp could not be far from the idol. First, ~ then, was to find the idol, and next was to hunt for Duane’s old camp. If the camp could be found, the scout wanted to make some investigations before destroying the idol. If the camp could not be found, then the idol must be shat- tered with a blast of dy namite and the patty make a hur- tied return to the spring they had just left. Yet, whether or. not the camp was discovered, the scout was pledged to hunt for Duane’s treasure of gold nuggets. ‘The remarkable little Piute appeared “entirely familiar with the trackless waste. He rode at speed, straight into the gloom of that blasted wilderness, guided, pet haps, by a sixth sense which served him in lieu of a compass, On and on they went, making excellent time over the flat level. Finally, without halting the pinto or saying a word, the boy pointed toward some dark object which ap- peared like a blot against the lighter background of the night. “Thet ther Jasper Joss, Cayuse ?”’ “Wuh!’ answered the boy. Both the scout and his pard stared fixedly at the blot while they swiftly approached it. Slowly it took shape under their w ondering eyes. ‘When they came quite close, the great figure had re- solved itself into a stupendous work that well- nigh be- wildered them. The idol was black, and under the filtering starlight the upper portion gleamed like polished ebony. Although a “squatting, uncouth thing, the tremendous proportions of the work claimed their admiration, Then, slowly, as the hideousness of the conception came home to them in the half-light, they experienced a feel- ing of repulsion. “Et shore looks like ther work of er crazy man,” re- marked Old Nomad. “Ugh! Eff was alone in this be ar “Heap bad asked Nomad. BILL STORIES. eae with thet pizen thing, I’ do shore sit locoed in er week.” © “Strange,” muttered the scout, ‘that this block of ve). should have been dropped down upon this flat, right in this place!” “Stranger still, Buffler, that any white man should try ter carve ther thing inter a freak like thet.. Wow! Thet crazy stone-cutter must hev had er nightmare, an’ then tried ter make a pictur’ of et out er ther jasper block. I ain’t wonderin’ none thet ther Injuns think er heap er thet thing. Chinks, too. They're jes’ erbout heathen enough ter feel er fondness fer an ugly thing like thet.” For several minutes Buffalo Bill sat his horse in silence, contemplating the monstrosity. Then he slowly circled the idol to get a view of it from all sides. * The figure was squatted on the desert, tailor-fashion. The arms, tremendous levers of black, hung in-an awk- ward shape from the broad, gleaming shoulders. seven feet the upper part of the figure measured, from the sand to the top of the huge head. “Goin”. ter send et. rocketin’, Buffler?” Nomad. . “Not yet,” replied the scout. “Goin’ ter step on ther right knee an’ ish on . ther right eye?’ “I had rather do that by daylight, Nick, if it’s possible for us to remain here all of to-morrow. We are seeking treasure trove, you know, and I must carry out poor Duane’s wish if I can.” : gh te “Sartin, Buffler. Ther idol’s hyar, an’ like ernuff ther gold is hyar, too. But thar ain’t no water. Thet’s ther thing thet’ll keep us from remainin’ hyar ontil ter- morrer.” “You forget, old pard, that the crazy stone-cutter had a camp somewhere in this vicinity.” “Right ye aire! But ther stone-cutter couldn’t tell whar ther camp was, kase he on’y knew whar it was himself while he was crazy, which was most er ther time.” “It must have been near the idol, Nick, or Duane could never have traveled on foot between the camp and the scene of his work.” . “Keno, Buffer. How we goin’ ter find ther camp?” The scout turned a sharp glance around, in the direc- tion of the desert’s rim. At first he could see nothing ; then he managed to make out a dim blot towatd the east. “What's that, Cayuse?” he asked, pointing. “All same rocks, Pa-has-ka. answer. “Have you ever been to those rocks, Cayuse?” “Me no go there, Injuns no go there. water. ° “Well, we'll go there and investigate. wide of my trail, Duane’s camp was among those rocks and, if so, we shall certainly find water.” Auleed Old No water,” was the boy's All of bel — hoy Injuns say no * Unless I’m far . = eee found were of a queer, mushroom character: THE~BUFEALO BILL STORIES. : 19 He started his horse, and the other two ie along behind, Little Cayuse full of doubt but Old Nomad hopeful. CHAPTER. XII. THE CRAZY STONE-CUTTER’S CAMP. A strange place indeed is Death Valley. It is a place where rain-storms are well- -nigh unknown, and yet one where the effects of cloudbursts are almost unparalleled. Although the hottest spot on earth, yet ice often forms there. “It is a place whereethe air becomes so arid and dry that men have died through-lack of moisture, even’ when abundant water was at hand! It is a region where the beds of lakes are found on the pointed peaks of moun- tains. It is a mere gash in the earth which,.in spite of the washings of countless centuries, lies farther below sea-level than any other valley known to man. The ill-omened name of the valley was given to it be- cause of the experience of the crazy stone-cutter and his companions. Buffalo Bill was familiar with this history, and the letter he had received from poor Phil Duane tallied in every statement with all that was known of the experiences of the ill-fated gold-hunters. The rocks which the scout, Nomad, and Little Cayuse In the starlight the rocks resembled nothing so much as a gar- den of huge toadstools. Through these upright, bushy- onned stones the little party wended its way in single file. The scout now had _. the lead. Some of the strange rocks were so low that ‘it was necessary to make a détour in order to get around their spreading tops; “others were so high, that the horse- men could ride under their projecting crests, with a cov- ering of spongy stone over their heads. ~ Owing to the heavy shadow in which the garden of stone toadstools was wrapped, it was difficult to search for the crazy stone-cutter’s camp. But the ears of the searchers acquainted them with something their eyes could not. Suddenly Buffalo Bill pulled in his horse. “Hold up, pard,” said he to Nomad., “Listen a min- ute and tell me if you hear anything.” They all bowéd their heads. “Wuh!” said Little Cayuse. “T shore kin hear somethin’, Buffler,” said Nomad. - What they heard was a tinkling drip, drip, drip as of water. “A spring!’ exclaimed the scout. with our ears if we can’t with our eyes. would find the*old camp in this place.” From then on he-proceeded more slowly. Turn after turn he made, learning of his gradual approach to the spring by the increasing volume of the sound of drip- ping water. At last he reached it, and found it one of the marvels of that marvelous region, “We can locate it IT was sure we “nourished by the life-giving tide. self under a stone whose top was unusually large. The water eddied out of the stem of one of the gigantic toadstools, half-way between the ground and the branch- ing top. The stem was gouged out by the action of the water, so.that a little hollow shelf was formed; from this shelf the water. trickled into a pool below. Over- flowing the pool, it flowed for perhaps fifty feet among the upright stones, then sank away in the thirsty sand. Along the brief course of the rill were mesquit-bushes, The bushes hung heavy with beans. “Waal, hyer’s as fine er place as we could wish fer,” remarked the astounded Nomad, “ready-made ter our hands. ‘Ther hosses kin drink an’ eat beans, an’ we kin drink an’ eat our provender. Could stay hyer fer days, ef we wanted ter, Buffler.”’ “One day will dome,” replied the scout. “Mebby ther water ain’t good. They say thar’s borax under ther soil.” Little Cayuse had dismounted, and was artukiag at the pool. “Heap good,” he said, rising. - The horses were watered and hitched among the mes- quit-bushes, the riding-gear dumped down under the rock beside the pool, and then, while Nomad and Little Cayuse flung themselves down to rest, the scout continued his investigations. Fle was certain that Duarie must have had his camp, in that place, and, certainly, it would be near the spring. 99 As the scout prowled around, he suddenly found him- At one side a sort of rude partition had been thrown up, con- structed of sand and jagged pieces of rock. He, went around this parson, and found himself in a sort of a room. The “room” was eight feet in’ the clear, with a level ceiling. By striking matches, he was able to dis- cover that the place must have once been used as a human habitation. The partition of jagged stone and sand told of calculation and labor. The bed of a small “mushroom” lay in the center of the “room? and a block lay by it. Plainly the habitation had thus been furnished with a table and a chair. Both table and chair were deeply worn. There was absolutely nothing else about the Pe token left behind by the crazy stone-cutter before fi out for the settlements to mail that letter to his son in™ far-away Illinois. But this had been his abiding-place through many years while he dug his gold and wrought that thankless task with the block of jasper. Of this the scout was more than sure. Returning slowly to the place where he had left his companions, Buffalo Bill found them both asleep. He did not disturb them, but, mounting a low “toadstool,” he climbed to the top of the one which formed the roof of Duane’s old hovel. There the scout sat and watched. He thought of many things during his lonely vigil; of ‘the sad fate of the Duane’s, father and son; of the gro- tesque figure of jasper, cut from the solid block for a purpose which could”only be guessed; of the gold the elder Duane had found in his crazéd condition; and of the secret which was to be wrung from the joss on the following day. While he sat and thought, morning dawned. Under the touch of coming light, the garden of stone toad- stools presented a weird and uncanny appearance. Buf- falo Bill, fromm his elevated position, was looking down on most of the round-topped boulders, and it almost seemed as though he could traverse the entire “garden” by stepping from one to another. As he continued to keep his place on the crest of the flat-topped’ rock, the sun shot up above the desert’s rim and the awful heat of the day commenced, The scout was about to descend and return to his com- panions when his startled eyes detected a figure moving across the sand, well beyond the outermost limits of the rocks. It was the figure of a man, and the man was on foot and walking in the direction of the idol, The scout was too far away to make out any details, apart from the fact that the figure was that aro man, and that he was on foot. Who could the man be, and what was his purpose there ? With these questions in mind, Buffalo Bill dropped down from his elevated position and returned to the place where he had left his companions, Both were still sleeping. Neither of them had had much rest. since ‘leaving Mojave Camp, and the scout did not arouse them. Quietly picking up his riding-gear, he went to his horse, saddled and bridled the animal, mounted, and rode away toward the open desert. By that time the man who had claimed his attention was a mere moving speck against the yellow sand. ae ting his horse to the gallop, Buffalo Bill rapidly over- hauled the strange pedestrian. Before he had come very close, he saw that the man was a Chinaman. A little nearer, and he made out that the Chinaman was none other than Hip Loo. The patter of hoofs in the sand did not cause Hip Loo to look around. The rascally Chink’s almond eyes were fixed on the statue, which he had almost reached, and he seemed lost in awesome study of the monstrosity. Buffalo Bill continued to ride forward, watching to see what the Chinaman would do, On reaching the front of the Jasper Joss, the Celestial slumped to his knees and beat his head on the sand. Plainly he was worshiping that hideous image of stone, and the scout’s disgust found vent in a muttered ex- clamation. Half a dozen times Hip Loo beat his head on the sand; then he sprang up and climbed slowly to the idol’s right knee. : THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES. Buffalo Bill was quite near, but the Chinaman was so intensely wrapped up in his own doings that he had no time to pay attention to any one or anything else. But- falo Bill drew his horse to a halt and watched curiously. Hip Loo was reaching for the idol’s right eye. Under the weight of his body, however, the idol’s right knee was slowly sinking, and there was a pecuhar trembling of the awkward jasper arms. The arms began to lift, to reach out, to draw around the Chinaman. Hip Loo was still reaching for the right eye. " “Look out, there!” shouted the scout. But his words came too late. Relentlessly as a pair of iron nippers, the jasper arms had closed around the un- fortunate Chinaman, crushing him against the black, flint- like breast of the figure. Buffalo Bill dismounted. The Chinaman, with the breath oozing slowly out of his body as the pressure in- creased, looked frantically toward the spot from which the futile warning had come. “Helpee Chinaman, savee flom joss!” gasped thie squirming Celestial, as Buffalo Bill hurried toward the huge idol, CHAPTER X11. THE STRICKEN CHINAMAN. Before the scout’s eyes had been enacted proof that Hip Loo had skulked in the adjoining room at-the Mojave Camp hotel and had listened while the scout and his trapper pard' were talking about Phil Duane and the Jasper Joss. In this way alone could the Celestial havé discovered that the secret of the idol was to be learned by mounting the knee and pressing against the eye. Hip Loo had the stone-cutter’s letter, but ihe scout was posi- tive he could not read it. Those awful jasper arms continued to compress as the scout ran forward, and under his horrified eyes the Chinaman’s face reddened, purpled, and his eyes started from his head. . His struggles grew weaker and weaker. Still the pressure continued until the spine was snapped and the unfortunate man breathed his last in the cold, black arms. Buffalo Bill had witnessed all this, powerless to stay the awful tragedy. As he stood, gazing spellbound at the dead Chinaman, the arms suddenly opened and the limp form fell sprawling to the ground. When the scout’s eyes had passed from the lifeless figure back to. the saturnine figure of stone, the arms were again in their normal position. The horrible mechanism seemed as solid and immovable as ever. A brief examination of Hip Loo proved beyond all doubt that his curiosity had been the death of him. —Buf- falo Bill searched through his blue silk blouse for the Duane letter, but could not find it, MC thi ore i clit rn int dey tre sh; Witt. was “Hie Chinaman doing there, alone? What had becéme of his horse, of his companions? To these questions the scout seemed destined never to have an answer. The Chinaman’s misfortune, however, was a warning to Buffalo Bill. In beginning his own hunt for the secret of the Jasper Joss, he was equipped with a knowledge that would serve him in good stead. Drawing his revolver, the scout leveled it at the idol’s right eye and pulled the trigger. From the hard sub- stance the bullet glanced into space, but the remarkable thing happened, and it was nothing less than this: Slowly the head of the figure began to fall backward. It was hinged at the neck, and the impact of the bullet on the eyeball had released a spring which had set that part of the mechanism in motion. The arms did not move. The idol contained a hollow cavity, and it must be in this cavity that the stone-cutter’s hoard was stowed. But how to get at the cavity? That was the question. The natural way was to mount-one of the knees, in order to reach the eye, but such a course spelled death. In this cunning’ and démoniacal manner had the craay stone-cutter safeguarded his treasure. After a few moments’ thought, Buffalo Bill went to the idol’s right knee and bore down on it with his weight, carefully keeping out of the way of the entrapping arms. . As he applied pressure to the knee it slowly gave be- neath him. The black arms lifted, closed, and remained pressed against the stohy breast. While the arms were in that position Buffalo Bill climbed to the lifted knees, mounted to the deadly arms, Pand eripped the rim of the opening that led to the idol’s interior. For some time he Stood looking into the dark depths of the hollow figure. He could see nothing. He reached his arm down, but could feel nothing. If the idol was really the receptacle of the stone-cutter’s treasure, it must lie at the very. bottom. The scout was now thoroughly aroused. He was there to find, the treasure before the idol was shattered by the dynamite. Unless he did this, quite likély the gold, if there was any in the idol, would be blown and scattered all over the face of the desert, most of it lost beyond recovery. This he must avoid; and the only way to avoid it was by searching the idol. Without a moment’s hesitation he climbed to the idol’s shoulder, slipped his feet over the rim, and lowered him- self down. The interior of the idol was larger than he had sup- posed. There was barely room for him to get through the opening, but when he was once inside, and lowered to the bottom, the mouth of the opening was a foot above his head. There was no room to sit down, but there was | abundant space for stooping, and turning, He struck a match, Nee ee esis athe, ‘ie coarse ainsi AR eta tO , ia a sateen iB i qT HE BUPPRALO BILL STORIES, an The interior was like an oblong box, seven feet in height. by two in width and two and a half or three in breadth. : At the scout’s feet were three bags: He bent and touched one of the bags with his hands. From the “feel” of the bag he knew that it must contain gold. The match flickered out in his fingers, and he cast the. burned stump aside. He would lift the bags, one at a time, and heave them out of the idol. Now was the time to do it. -The idol was dangerous. He was exposing himself to danger in order to make the examination, and it was well to secure the gold at that time rather than take chances again. He stooped again and lifted one of the bags. It weighed, perhaps, fifteen or twenty pounds. As he raised to force the bag out of the opening above him, the opening suddenly closed with a sharp “‘click.” Buffalo Bill dropped the bag and yuan aghast in the darkness. The head had lifted itself back into place, and he was imprisoned ! “Had he inadvertently struck some spring, there in the bottom of the idol, which had caused the head to’ lift upright ? He lighted another match and examined the interior closely. There was no mechanism visible. The levers and springs that worked the arms and head must have been concealed in another chamber, to which the treasure-chamber did not give access. He thought that possibly he could push back the head with his hands if he were lifted high enough. With this thought in mind, he piled the three bags one on the top of the other and brought his own head into the head of the image. A ray of sun, entering from without, dazzled him. The light came through an aperture at the mouth—an opening not visible to one standing on the ground out- side. Looking through the peep-hole, he saw the gray level of the desert, and his horse, patiently waiting for him. Dropping downward, the scout raised his hands into the hollow head and pushed, at first lightly and then with all his strength. He could not move the head a hairs breadth! The hot, stuffy atmosphere of his cramped quarters brought a clammy perspiration to his forehead. Stepping down from the bags, he seated himself in a sort of half-standing posture, and tried to think of what he sheuld do. There seemed to be nothing he could do but wait. Nomad and Little Cayuse, discovering his absence, would make search for him when he had been away suif- ficiently long to arouse their alarm, THE BUFFALO About the first place the two w ould come to, in making their hunt, would be to the idol. They would not have to come far from the toadstool _ rocks before they would see the riderless horse. That would arouse their apprehension, and they. would. come near enough to the idol so the scout could make his pres- ence known to them and tell them how to go to work to get him out of his narrow cell. Yes, the only thing the scout could do was to wait. He did not have to wait as long as he thought he should. ‘ Perhaps ten minutes passed, and they brought him the sound of horses’ hoofs. Quickly he climbed to the topmost bag again, forced his head up through the opening, and looked out through the peep-hole. Sg : If consternation comes seize such an iron-nerved man as Buffalo Bill, it seized him then. It was not his pards who had conte oo the rest of the Chinamen ! He saw the villainous rascals as Little Cayuse had seen them some time before—the lean ones, the tat ones, the long ones and the short, dressed in their disreputable clothes and carrying their\junk-shop arms. — When the scout looked out, the queer outfit of Celes- tials were sitting their horses in a close group in front of - the idol. Awe was written in their faces as they looked up into the grim, stony countenance of the joss. One of the Chinamen had a led horse. no doubt, belonged to Hip Loo. This animal, As the scout surmised the matter, Hip Loo had tried to steal a march 6n his companions, reach the idol ahead of them, and, perhaps, annex the treasure. To do this, very likely he had had to abandon his mount. The rest of the Chinamen had trailed him, and had reached the idol, only to find their leader lifeless beside it. There seemed no other explanation. When the Chinamen’s s eyes rested on the body of Hip Loo, they all began to dismount and to chatter excitedly. They examined their dead leader, they talked, gesticu- lated, and looked at the idol with growing animosity. . Finally the scout’s horse came in for a share of their curiosity. They remembered the animal, of course, as one of the three they had run off from the spring by Sugar Loaf Peak. & A small canvas sack at the scout’s saddle-cantle con- tained the dynamite, the fuse, and the caps. This the yellow men took from the saddle. One of them, the fat individual who had een entrusted with the fire-ball, held the explosives in his hand and> fairly screeched in some voluble argument he was ma- _king. Occasionally he would touch the sack of blasting-ma- terial, point to the body of Hip Loo, and then to the idol. BILL STORIES. : os. At last the others seemed to agree. “Jupiter!” muttered Buffalo Bill. “They wre clever enough, or superstitious enough, to believe that the idol proved the death of Hip Loo, and they're all for revenge, If I’m not mistaken, they’re planning to blow up the joss, just as I was doing! That won't do—with me in here, and with the gold still unrecovered. : These Chinamen were all miners, and familiar with the use of blasting-material. The fat Chinaman untied the sack and dumped dynamite, fuse, and caps on the ground; then, in a businesslike way, one of them cut off about a five-minute length of fuse and began trimming one end, Another opened the tin cap-box and took_out a cap. Still another went to the foot of the idol and began digging a hole under it to receive the dynamite and the capped end of the fuse. This was about as far as Buffalo Bill thought the per- formance ought to go. As between taking his chances fighting eleven Chinamen, and being blown up with the idol, he would choose the Chinamen. : “Hello, there, you Chinks!” the scout cried, in a rum- bling voice. : : The effect was ludicrous. Perhaps the scout could have appreciated it better if he had been ina safer situa- ton Every Chinaman jumped. Half of them ran like rab- bits toward their horses, and then came to-a frightened halt; the other half kept their a but their tee th itera like castanets. % “China boys no blow up joss!” rumbled the scout. “Vou savvy, hey? No sendee joss top-side.” The fat Chinaman appeared to” have more sense and sand than any of the others, At first his round, moon- like face looked puzzled; then his bewildered eyes roved from the idol to Buffalo Bill’s horse, and back again to the idol—_Slowly a light broke over his yellow counte- Nt nance. Once more he sonien ea to chatter. ond seene tae. He pointed to Buffalo Bill’s horse, pointed to the idol, and to the dead Chinaman. , “They re beginning to None. I reckon,” muttered the scout, “that it was I, and not the idol, that turned the trick for Hip Loo. They know I’m in here, although they don’t know how I got in; and they have a pretty good idea that if they blow up the joss they'll blow up Buffalo Bill. By thunder, they’re going on with their blasting!” The fat Chinaman’s words, whatever they were, had a heartening effect upon his companions. Those who had retreated to the horses came springily back, and the others also approached the idol’s foot. They shook their yellow fists at the-idol’s face, they shouted taunts, and they showed in. various other ways that they had the scout and the idol both at their mercy and intended to do their worst. — : The scout tried to get his revolver up to the opening STi A ST Tama ca th th oC he ar _ in ™m sn, 4 in 1 the idol’s head, but found it impossible to do SO. was trapped beyond any hope of resistance. The sticks of dynamite were slit along their sides, rammed into the hole under the idol on top, of the capped end of the fuse, and the five-minute length stuck out and writhed over the sand like a slender snake. The fat Chinaman, with a malicious grin on his round, face, went down on his knees and scratched a match. The match wouldn’t fire. He searched his blouse for another, but evidently couldn’t find one. All this gave the imprisoned scout a little more time. If only Nomad and Little Cayuse would come! Suddenly, while the fat Chinaman was having the others search their blouses for a match, a rifle popped somewhere in the distance. That settled further blasting-operations, so far as the yellow men were concerned, As one man they rushed for their horses. ‘Ten men, reached the mounts; the eleventh staggered and fell as a second report came over the desert. The Chinaman who dropped was the long fellow who carried the bow and arrows. He was not slain outright, and he raised himself and called imploring after his fleeing’ comrades. But his comrades had other things to think of just then, and were not halting to rescue any of the fallen. “Old Nick is coming!’ thought Buffalo Bill. “How the rascals are running from him and Little Cayuse!” The Chinamen flashed away; then the scout heard something that made him catch his breath. The sound he heard was a shrill war-whoop. The whoop was taken up and repeated again and again with hair-raising ferocity. Then Elk Tooth and his Pittes raced across the ground .in front of the idol, in wild pursuit of fugitive oe He men, “Red men against the yellow!” muttered Buffalo Bill. “T wonder where I am going to come in?” CHAPTER PY. FIVE MINUTES OF SUSPENSE, This hunt for the Jasper Joss had developed some pe- culiar situations, but nothing more thrilling or amazing than the one that was just being enacted. Buffalo Bill had been snatched from a fearful fate by the coming of enemies infinitely more to be feared than the Chinamen. The five-minute length of fuse still writhed across the sand at the idol’s foot. As yet it was harmless, sitice no fire had been touched to it. It would ss, for certainly the Piutes would and, if the Chinamen did not probably continue harmle chase the Chinamen away ; return, it was a safe guess that the fuse would not be fired until Buffalo Bill should be released and fire it himself. THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES The Piutes had no hostile designs on the. idol. . Their only desire was to protect it so that, under the direction of their medicine-men, they could make use of it in dancing the medicine. As these thoughts ran through the scout’s brain, an- other cause for alarm presented itself. The Chinaman with a bow and arrows ‘was danke slowly toward the foot of the idol, a match in his hand and a desperately malignant look on his face, He was a dying man; and his last desire was for re- venge—revenge against some one, he was not particular whom. Foot by foot the wounded. man crawled toward the fuse. Every move he made seemed as though it must surely be his last. - ; The scout, through the peep-hole, watched the dying Chinaman’s last effort with a sort of weird fascination. If the man died on his creeping trail, the fuse would not be fired; if he lived#—— The scout closed his eyes and wont not foley that train of thought through to its legitimate conclusion. He tried, although he knew the maneuver was impossible, to get his revolver muzzle into the opening. At last he gave over the attempt, and did nothing but watch. useless work with the six-shooter the He appeared to have for he was lying During his Chinaman had reached the fuse. exhausted all his strength, however, face down in the sand. Was he dead, or was he merely gathering ‘a little strength for striking the match and firing the blast? Perilous as the situation was for Buffalo Bill, he could not but admire the: Chinaman’s masterful determination to effect his purpose: As the scout looked down, the Chinaman raised himself gaspingly, scraped the match the idol’s base, rolled over, and touched the flick- -end. : across ering flame to the fuse Then, with one supreme effort, he arose to a sitting- posture, threw a look of malignant hate upward into the idol’s stony face, and fell backward with a gasp. He was dead, and his body lay elbow to elbow beside Hip Loo’s. But the fuse had been fired, and the dancing flame was eating along toward the cap and the dynamite. Five minutes of life! Buffalo Bill could tell at a slance how long. the fuse would burn, for fuses burn evenly, and miners always cut them into lengths spoken of,in “minutes.” Again the scout attempted to force back the jasper head of the idol. All his splendid strength was called into requisition, and never before had he used it so power- fully. His life was at stake. The gold of the Duanes would be flung to the four winds—the scout could not help that—but he must preserve himself from being torn apart and seattered with the gold. “Yet his strength was ineffectual—he could not force back the idol’s head. 24 He gave a frantic look through ie peep- -hole. How terribly the fuse had wasted during the sixty or seventy seconds he had been trying his muscle on the idol’s head! A fifth of it, perhaps a ae had been consumed. The little flame sputtered wickedly, leaping and dancing in the light-air. What an irony ag fate that his mission for the govern- ment should have been executed by a dying Chinaman, and that he who had been told off to do the work should perish with its accomplishment ! With a start he realized that the tuse was half- -gone. Two minutes and a half were left—two minutes and a half of life, and then he must meet his fate like a rat ina trap... It was foolish of him to enter. that idol, knowing it for a crazy man’s trap. , . If he had had the work to do over again he would have been more discreet. He settled down to watching the flame, his brain dulled by his impending doom. He thought of nothing, “now, only the passing minutes which marked the swift course of the fire toward the cap and the dynamite. : A minute, possibly. a minute and a half were left! Away on the desert he heard hoofbeats again. Could it be the victorious Piutes returning froma — massacre of the Chinamen? Whether it was the Piutes or not, those who. were coming promised him temporary relief from the appalling situation. He raised his voice in a loud call. The hoofbeats came nearer and nearer. - His straining ears told him that there were two horses, only two. : A wild hope shot through his oe “Nomad!” he yelled, in stentorian tones. “Buffler!” came the answer, now quite close. ther blazes aire ye, Buffler ?”’ “Here, in the idol! Quick, if you want to save my life. Run around in front—a blazing fuse—by the right knee ye Just then Old Nomad came tearing into sight, ex- cited as he had-never been before. “Buffler!” he shouted... “Whar “The fuse, the fuse, man! The right knee of the idol! Quick, or we'll both be done for.” Bewildered, but blindly obeying orders, Old Nomad rushed to the right knee of the idol. The bit of fire was already on the point of withdrawing itself within the hole and setting off the blast. With a bellow of rage, the old man hurled tine upon it and pinched out the flame with his fingers. “Whar The scout sank back inside the hollow idol with a deep breath. That call was the closest yet. THE BUREALO BILL STORES. CHAPTER XV. : THE GOLD. “Buffler:! Bufller ! Whar aire ye, old pard?” — Old Nomad, tramping back and forth in front of the Jasper Joss, was-shouting these words wildly. The entire situation was filled with mystery for him. The scout, fearing his pard might try to repeat Hip Loo’s work by climbing to the idol’s right knee, roused himself and returned te. the lookout. “T’m-in here, Nick,” he called. “Take it easy, old pard, and everything will be all right. I had a tight squeak of it, though. Don’t try to climb up on the idol, for it won't do.” -“Who planted thet blast 2” “T’ll tell you about that later.” Little Cayuse, his face a study in wonder and appre- hension, stood near the trapper’s side. “How did yé git in thet pizen thing?’ demanded Nomad. ¢ , “Crawiled * ok 3k PTURKE YS IN: TORBACC O-FIELD, “I saw a sight out in the country the other day,” said an did Kentuckian recently visiting in St. Louis, “that recalled a good many memories of the tobacco-fields of my native State. “You know wherever tobacco is grown tobacco worms ap- pear as though by magic. If let alone they speedily destroy the entire crop, so a large share of the attention required by a tobacco-field. consisted in getting rid of the worms. During slavery days every tobacco-plantation had a swarm of little darkies whose duty it was to parade along the rows of plants every day and pick off the worms. Sometimes the pickers were provided with little tin buckets, old oyster-cans, or things like that into which they would put their worms, and the one whose can was fullest at the end, of the day’s’ work was rewarded with a small gratuity. “After the war, however, cotored boys and girls pre- ferred going to school to picking tobacco worms, so it was_ hard to find pickers. “Then some one discovered that turkeys would do the BILL STORIES. flock of turkeys and turned them loose in his fields to catch the worms. They soon learned what they were there for and that the best part of their daily provender was to, be found on the leaves rather than on the ground. ° They would examine every leaf, and not a worm escaped them. “The St. Louis country farmer had a patch of tobacco, for his own use, I suppose, and he also knew the trick of keeping the plants clean, for there was a squad of half- grown turkeys, with an old gobbler and three or four hens leading the procession, marching up and down the rows, turning their heads first to one side, then to the other, and jumping up with a kick and a flutter after a worm that was too high to be reached from the ground. “T don’t know how they manage the worms in Kentucky now, for it has been years since I have been there. Per- haps they spray the plants with insecticides, but I shall never forget the diligence displayed by the young turkeys when they were first introduced into a tobacco-field and discovered that worms were good eatin ens Ss: ok 2 ** HARNESSING THE LEOPARD. For hauling light artillery and military carriages over dificult ground in tropical lands leopards have been suc- cessfully employed on several occasions. where the army mule was not available. The leopard was first introduced for draft-work in Upogoro, in German East Africa, but they have proved so valuable that their use is likely to spread widely. A single able-bodied leopard, properly broken, it is said, will haul an ordinary mountain or field-piece, or a similar weight of ammunition or provisions for a campaign. They are not particular about their food, and will work all > day with but one meal. * % * cs HUNTING PH OCTOPUS. The terrible octopus swarms in the waters which wash the shores of the West Indies, and is pafticularly abundant about Burmuda. Though so much to be dreaded, the, octopus is of a nat- urally retiring nature, lurking in submarine caves and in the crevices of rocks, and rarely facing daylight or venturing into the open sea. When the “devil-fish,” as the octopus is well styled, is in proximity to a rock, it holds onto this base of support with three or four of its hundred-suckered arms, leaving itself free to use its remaining arms with irresistible power to seize any object swimming in the water and drag it into its maw. The octopus, when lying in a crevice of the rocks, is almost indistinguishable from the surrounding seaweeds, even by a creature of the deep. Professor Verrill, of New York, has won especial renown as a daring hunter of the octopus. He is a splendid swim- mer, and his favorite method of catching the ‘devil-fish” is to dive boldly down to its lair among the rocks and seize the monster. The water about Bermuda is particularly clear, but in the beginning the professor made many dives in vain. Then he found an octopus, but it was too large, and he barely escaped with his life after one of the horrible arms. had work, and every tobacco-grower raised each season a big 30 touched him. have been lost. The professor persisted in diving in the near vicinity of this adventure, and had the good fortune to happen upon a moderate-sized octopus, who was calmly jgposing in a submarine cave. He seized the creature from behind, press- ing both of his hands round its body behind the mouth. Then, having only his feet free, he started for the surface with his burden. The octopus, according to its custom when alarmed, discharged the contents of its ink-bag and black- ened all the water. Although taken at a disadvantage, the octopus was beginning to get a grip on the professor’s body when he reached the surface and was hauled into his boat by his men. The octopus was disentangled for transporta- tion with difficulty from the professor, care being taken not to sever any of its tentacles, and placed in a tank. If two of them had reached him he would ferent varieties-of the octopus alive. Professor Durand, of the University of Montpelier, in France, has also been hunting octopuses among the rocks on the Mediterranean coast of France, and especially about the Island_of Corsica. He goes down after the dreadful molluscs in a diving-suit. He is not willing to face the peril ‘of grappling with one of these creatures with his bare hands. Moreover, he holds that in a diving-equipment he is better able to watch their habits. Professor Durand not long ago “cornered” a large speci- men in a cave. At once the octopus flung its arms about its hunter. It was unable to suffocate him by constricting his neck owing to the diving-helmet, but two of the arms were thrown about the air-pipe and cut off his supply of fresh air. The professor was too much entangled by the creature’s tentacles to be able to pull the communication- cord, and he was reduced to unconsciousness and the point of death. The men at the surface, feeling that he had been down too long, hauled him up, with the octopus attached, only just in time to save his life. ee ee A WOLF-BOY: AvTRUE STORY. Every boy knows the story of Romulus and Remus being nurtured by a she wolf, and the story is generally regarded as being incredible, and all kinds of explanations are given to account for the existence of such a legend. Now, I do not wish for a moment to contend that the story is a true one; but I would like to poifit out there is no real reason for regarding it as incredible. Wolves have been known to do, even in these modern days, exactly that which the foster-mother of Romulus and Remus is credited with. There are several well-authenticated cases in India of children having been adopted by these fierce animals. Not long ago a little girl child about two years old was rescued rom a wolf. Strange to say, she died almost immediately after she had been rescued. Indeed, this is the fate of all children who have been found in India under such circumstances, with one exception, That one exception is known as the Wolf-boy of Agra. I myself have seen him, and, as I have never seen his story in print, I shall tell it here as I was told it by the good missionary who had charge of the orphan- age at Secundra, near Agra, in which the wolf-boy lived. Eleven years ago I paid my first visit to Agra, and, ma- In this’ way Professor Verrill has captured since specimens . dif. | too lively, it is put back in the ice-box. THE BUFFALO BILL STORIES. king the round of the mission there, I came in due course to the orphanage, and my host first pointed out the wolf- -boy and then told me his story. I saw before me a young man of about twenty, of most. repulsive aspect. He was quite idiotic, and could only make strange, unearthly noises in lieu of speech. He was quite harmless, but the grin with which he greeted me, and the way in which he drew up his upper lip, reminded me of the way in which a savage dog snarls at a stranger, and made me feel as if I should not care to be left alone and unarmed in his society, despite the assurance which I obtained as to his quietness. He had been rescued about fifteen years before under the following surprising circumstances: Some natives in the Kingdon of Oude, of which Lucknow is the capital city, came one day to an English official to say that they had seen something which bore the appearance of a small boy running on all fours. They had pursued it, but it ran with great swiftness and disappeared into the hole of a wild beast. The curiosity of the Englishman was aroused: and at i direction an attempt to smoke out the creature was made. The attempt proved successful. Out dashed a great she _wolf from the mouth of the hole, and behind it came the boy. The wolf escaped, but the boy was captured after a fierce struggle, in which he behaved like a young wolf, snap- ping and snarling, and attempting to bite his captors. The age of this queer creature could only be guessed at. It was put at five or six years, and this is probably correct. It is supposed that the wolf, deprived of her cubs, stole it in infancy and adopted it in place of her own offspring, and that the baby, too small to be frightened, took nena ly to its strange nurse. All the habits of the boy were those of a wolf. At first he would coil himself up all day in a dark corner, and wake up at night, desiring to prow] about. With great difficulty he was accustomed to cooked food, for he much preferred _raw flesh, and was especially fond of gnawing bones after they had been buried in earth. . At last he was tamed and brought oer to civilized habits ; but the twenty years which have elapsed have not sufficed to alter the wolflike appearance of this poor fellow, whose early life has deprived him both fi reason and Gos of speech. 4 Oe are ae _ SNAKE-CHARMERS. The secrets of snake-charming are much simpler than most people imagine. The snakes to be handled are gorged with food until they become drowsy, or else they are drugged so that their senses are dazed. Sometimes they are kept in ice-boxes, and the cold puts them in a semitorpid condition. In either case the snakes are only half-alive. In handling the reptile, the hand must always grasp it at certain places where the head can be guided and held from the body. This is the hardest thing to learn, but, like everything else, it comes with practise. By dint of dexterity and strength, the snake is easily passed from one hand to the other, and is — , allowed to coil about the body. The snake-charmer, how- ever, must always be on the alert. When the snake becomes In handling a ‘ repti law- tem. gras} is no hand cern In b tries, tary, Th F other as CO them odor . not t Th const gene Bthe r uma enol hat | an at ing ¢ | Th TH BU reptile with the fangs in—-which ought to be prohibited by law—one' requires great strength, as the strain on the sys- tem during the performance is very considerable. The grasp and movements must be precise and accurate. There is ne room for hesitancy or uncertainty. Most of the snakes handled, however, are harmless,'so far as poisoning is con- cerned. » In India, and, to a certain extent in other Oriental coun- tries, the profession of serpent-charming is said to be heredi- tary, and has been practised from remotest antiquity, The serpent-charmer possesses a power beyond that of f other men of knowing when he is within close proximity to a concealed reptile, long practise having probably given them a fine sense of smell, which enables them to detect the odor emitted by the serpent, even though it be so faint as not to attract the attention of a novice. These wily fakirs usually ascribe their powers to some | constitutional peculiarity, but it has been noted that they Pzenerally pull the fangs and extract the venom-glands of Bthe reptiles handled in giving exhibitions. What power the Hitman voice may have in controlling the actions of these Venomous creatures is uncertain; however, it has been noted that serpent-charmeérs continually talk, sing, whistle, or have fan attendant play upon some shrill musical instrument dur- ing the time exhibitions are being given. | That these sounds have their influence there is not the Meast doubt. The “charmer” also “exerts an influence over these creatures with his eyes, some reputable travelers de- i claring that they have seen fakirs control and govern their poisonous pets by merely fixing their eyes steadfastly upon those of the serpents. DEERSKIN BILL’S. STORY. BY T. R. JENNESS. During a visit in Denver, a few years ago, my atten- on was attracted one morning by a sound of lively greeting on the piazza, just below my chamber window. he next moment Bessie Leveret’s face gleamed in upon le as she eagerly exclaimed: “Come down, please do. h exciting talk!” escending, I found my three young cousins gathered t the queerest, jolliest-looking man it had ever been good fortune to behold, A glance showed me that was the’ famous Rocky Mountaineer, whose praises been rung into my ears ever since my arrival at the utiful city which guarded the entrance to the eternal He’s here, and there'll be usin,” Bessie said, with charming dignity, “allow Q introduce to you our particular friend, Deerskin PALO BILE; STORIES: 3 mountaineer. Doffing his fur cap with awkward cour- cage Deerskin Bill responded : : “Sarvice, ma'am. I hope’s the snow-storm up in the mountains hes not discommoded yesin pertic lar wise. Do ye mind the pecooliar glistenin’ whiteness thet lays down around old Bald? Ef ther hain’t fell five foot o’ snow up ther since pe ecny morn I'll never snopes a mountain-sheep ag’in.’ We turned our eyes toward the snowy range, ea, ing white and grand above the misty blue enshrouding the lower hills. The soft September sunshine sifted through the clear, thin air about us, suggesting scarcely a hint of the eternal winter reigning just above. In the distance Pike’s Peak, the highest summit of the Rocky Mountais, touched the sky in lonely grandeur, “I saw the centennial sunrise up ther on Pike’s Peak last New Year’s morn, end ’twas wuth. rememberin’ for the next hundred years to come. I was huntin’ a blaeck- tailed deer up ther, but when the sun riz I forgot the deer, end bless me ef I’ve remembered him to this day.” This speech was greeted by a burst of laughter from the children. "Well, Bill,” Diek Leveret said, “let’s see if you can remember what happened to you one time while you were driving stage to Pike’s Peak ever so many years ago, long Sees the railroad was built through.” “Happened—there was so many things thet I must stop end think,” returned Deerskin Bill forgetfully. “Do ye mean when the avalanche slid down.on me, or the hosses broke loose end percipitated the stage into the gulch, or the big b’ar planted himself across the road in front of me, ar the Rocky Mountain ghost came down the cafion “No, no,” interrupted Dick, with something like con- tempt, “all those will do for commonplace adventures, but we want cousin to hear the real hair-raising Indian story—how they burned you and Willie at the stake, you know.” The children had heard the story many times hefore. but an expression of resolute endurance closely resem- bling torture crept into theix young faeces as ‘they pre- pared to listen again to Deerskin Bill’s adventure with the Indians, _ _ “Ye see “twas years before the Kansas road sttetched through the ‘Golden Belt,’ which means the finest wheat country in the world. Westin Kansas was a howlin’ wilderness, and Denver was nothin’ but a tradin’-post wae I used to come end git pervisions end miners’ shirts, end I’m sorry to say, whisky, which the miners round Pike’s Peak hed ordered, end it seemed to be my dooty to transport. I used to drive four mules end four hosses, end when the road was dangerous, the mules : went ahead end picked the way, but when “twas even ground end f wanted to make quick time, | gin the hosses the lead, end neater-footed critters it hes never been ALY, lot to wave the ribbons over. ‘Waal, as I was about to start on my route one mornin’ with a steep load o’ pervisions end shirts, end whisky, but nary a passenger, ther suddintly appeared afore me a hey Pacific. Rail- _with yaller hair, end eyes the color 0’ yen sky thet» ‘tips down sideways to the snowy range. “ ‘Wher, in the name of all thet’s bright end shinin’, do you hail from?’ I axed, with; wonder end amazement. \ ( THE BURPALO, BILL STORIES. ““Came across. the plains with an emigrant-train,’ he answered, with a mournful kind o’ smile. ‘Am goin’ to Pike’s Peak to.search for father, who came out two years ago, end hes not been heard from only onct. Mother's pinin’ away with grief end suspense, so [’'m goin’ to try to find out somethin’ sartint.’ f “Thet was the boy’s meanin’, but the bootiful, voice end nice, smooth words t’won't be expected of Deer- skin Bill to imitate. “Waal, I learned while we was on the jog thet the missin’ father of the purty boy was one o’ them knowin’ fellows wat spends his life a-huntin’ bugs, end stones, end other cuius things.” “A naturalist,” I said, seeing the mountaineer hesitate for an appropriate word with which to express his mean- ing. “Kerzactly, He’d cqme out to make colle To for his cu’iosity-shelf, hut, as nigh as I could jedgef he’d been collected up onto the shelt hisself, without no lovin’ friend to drop a tear above his cold remains. _Howsumever, I didn’t tell Willie my fears—Ivhed found out his name was William, end naturally shortened it down into the pet name—but chirruped up his courage till we reached Lone Gulch, wher’ the Injins came upon us with less warnin’ then I hey given you in tellin’ of it. “Td got kinder careless like from makin’ so many,trips end bein’ unmolested, end when the red demons swarmed upon us like a pack o’ bloodthirsty wolves, I was taken by surprise, end I hedn’t time to p’int my shootin’-iron afore they hed us in ther clutches. “Aside from the thought he naturally hes about leapin’ off into eternity so suddint like, it makes a man feel sort 0’ sheepish to be tied hand end foot straight up agin’ a tree without the power to move a muscle, when he’s been used to roamin’ to the very pinnacle o’ God’s moyntane- ous univarse. “The Injins dressed themselves in red shirts—of which my wagon held a good supply—and piled the brushwood round us till we stood waist- deep in fagots. "Willie, my boy,’ sez J, “ts all over with us. ain’t no chances left for us.’ “Tell us how Willie looked,” with suspense. “Willie? Waal, ef ever, the sperrit of a hero looked out 0’ two heavenly blue eyes, *twas out o’ his’n at thet minute. Straight end slim, end bootiful he stood gin the fir-tree, wher they bound him facin’ me, lookin’ up be- Ther said Bessie, breathless yend the hills, as if expectin’ fortitoode to fall down.on— him from the skies. oe “EE I hed only found out what hed become o’ father,’ ‘end ef it wasn't for mother watchin’ aad Bo 9, Willte..said, weepin’—— “Oh, Bill, isn’t it time to bring in the whisky?” inter- rupted little Grace, who could not endure the torture longer. “Tut, tut, sweetheart, ye mustn’t break the plot too sud- dint,” responded Bill, with mild reproof. “Howsumever, it was jest at this crisis thet one 0’ the savages diskiv- ered the demijohns 0’ fire-water, which he wasn’t long in communicatin’ to the balance of the Injins. They be- gan to drink end dance, end drink end dance ag’in, till ther fiendish leaps got twisted into boozy staggers, end at last they dropped onto the ground, as dead as wheel- spokes for the time bein’. When the last one was fairly down, I sez to Willie: ““Could ye by eny means break loose from yer bands? SOLE pourin’ they never knowed what hurt ’em. safety.” ‘the fust time, Willie told me. “He struggled desperately, but they would not give way, end then his courage broke. When death hed stared{ him in the face he hed been resoloot, but when life hed seemed about to interfere with the grim monster in the boy’s behalf, end then hed backed out ag’in, Willie couldn't be blamed fer takin’ on a bit. . ‘or cant break ‘em, be Said, wit 2 kind o’ sob. endl wail thet betokened how his hopes hed riz, to fall ag’inj as am bound as fast as yonder rocks thet hes stood ‘uy agin’ the mount’in side fer ages.’ ” “Now, tell us what you did,” 10% said Bessie, seeing ‘thd mountaineer hesitate before going on with the story. T’ll see what I kin} Ee Waalil sez.) lake na Willie. do.’ And | begins to saw away upon the bark bands on my wrists.” “Don’t show us the-scars, nor tell how much you aoe fered while you were doing that,’ Grace said, covering up her eyes, and shuddering. a “Waal, ‘tis enough to say ‘twas a tough job, ‘but wasn’t quite ready to be roasted, and Wilie had a mothe4 waitin’ for him back beyond the perreries. So I parsd vered till the bands give way, and when my hands wa free, I didn’t lose no time in gettin’ out my knife, whit. the Injins had forgot to rob me of, and cutting off th balance o’ my fetters: Then T walked over to Ve and set him free. “And now comes the most techin’ part o’ the hull story} The boy dropped upon his knees, and sich a sublime out? o pure thankfulness I never heard. ~’Twas enough to hi’st one right up into glory. But I was obliged! to say: 7 “Come, Willie, ye kin finish up yer praisin’ ‘when we ® git safe under old’ Pike’s Poeee ribs; ’tain’t best to. stop here eny longer.’ 7 So we hitched up the mules and hosses, and started on our way. “Youve skipped the best part; how you fixed the ras- ' eals before you left them,’ Dick said, with boyish antici- pation of a tragedy. : G “T don’t know about puttin’ that in every time,” re- turned Deerskin Bill reflectively, “’Taint best to in~ dulge a killin’ sperit when ther’s a way o’ gettin’ off without it. “Tis enough to say I hed a good revolver, and Waal, as I was goin’ | to say, we started on our way, and reached the mines in | “Now, please tell cousin whether Willie ever found his, father,” Bessie said, drawing a long breath .of relief ay Bill finished his story. : “Nos he found out from some old_ miners thet h; father died o’ camp-fever shortly after writin’ home th first time. He dropped off suddent like, end no. onj knowed wher to derrect a letter to his family. Willi went back to his mother with. the first wagin-train th crossed the plains fer home.” “Did you ever hear anything more of him?’ T ase having felt a deep interest in the story of the boy's. de} voted “pilgrimage i in search of his absent father. “Yes; he-was out this way two years ago witha lot’ ‘of college boys. He came in a palace-car over the Kansas! Pacific Railroad. A fine contrast to the way he traveled He is now a perfessor in 4 the same line his father tracked afore him, but he ain’t ; lost his innercent-lookin’ face end heavenly blue eyes, § not yit.” : ‘ BUFFALO BILL STORIES ISSUED EVERY Tey } BEAUTIFUL COLORED COVERS Buffalo Biff’: ‘wins his way into the heart of every one who reads the strong stories of stirring adventure on the wide prairies of the West published in this weekl Boys, if you want tales of the West that - drawn true to life, do not pass these, by. PRICE FIVE CENTS PER COPY For sale by all newsdealers, or sent, by the publishers to any address upon receipt of price in money or postage stamps HERE ARE THE LATEST ‘TITLES: 311—Buffalo Bill’s Fight for Life; or, Caught in the Cave of Lions. 312—Buffalo Bill’s Death Jump; or, The Ogallalas’ Last Stand. 313—-Buffalo Bill and the Pit of Horror; or, The White Queen of Paradise Valley. 314—Buffalo Bill in the Jaws of Death; or, The Strange Sacrifice of Uncapah. 315—Buffalo Bill’s Aztec Runners; or, The Hate of the Gilded Mexican. 316—Buffalo Bill’s Dance with Death; or, Peril on the. Golconda Gold Trail. 317—Buffalo Bill's Redskin Rovers; Nomad’s Wolf Trick. _318—Buffalo Bill’s Fiery Eye; Last Battle. 319—Buffalo Bill’s Mazeppa Ride; or, The Robber League of the Panhandle. Old. Nac or, or, Red Thunderbolt’s 320—Buffalo Bill in the Land of Spirits; or, The Witel Hunters of the Hoodoo Mountains. ~ ™ 321—Buffalo Bill’s Gypsy Band; or, The Queen of the Road Wanderers. 322—Buffalo Bill’s Maverick; or, The Man with the Steel Arm. 323—Buffalo Bill, Dan, the Border Decoy Duck. 324—Buffalo Bill’s Gold Hunters; or, the Clan of the Skull and Cross-bones. 325—Buffalo Bill in Old Mexico; or, The Red Priests of Zataclin. 326—Buffalo Bill’s Message From the Dead; or, The Mystery of the Dagger of Gold. Pige-Butt JQ..Bill and the Mad Marauder ; the White Whirlwind; or, Dashing 327—Buffalo Bill and the Wolf-master; or, The Wild -Dogs of the Hills. 328—Buffalo Bill’s Flying Wonder ; g4- Of Fire. 329—Buffalo Bill’s Hidden Gold; or, The Ruse of the Red Serpent. 330—Buffalo Bill’s Outlaw Trail; or, The Mystery of th Teton Basin. ' oe Bill and the Indian Queen; or, The Gh os - Flower’s Mission. Oty ix King or, Zamba, the King or a og 333—Buffalo Bill’s Ice Barricade; or, The Red, and White Renegades of Powder River. 334—Buffalo Bill and the Robber Elk; or, The Mail ... gerSeekets of the Range. 335—Buffalo Bill’s Ghost Dance; or, The Thrall of the Lightning That Strikes. ‘g36—Buffalo. Bill’s Peace Pipe; or, The Casket of Mys- tery; 337—Buffalo Bill’s Red Nemesis; or, The White Captive of the Sioux. 338—Buffato Bill’s Enchanted Mesa; or, The Lost Prin- “cess of the Moquis. 339—Buftalo Bill in the Desert of Death; Secret of the Jasper Joss. 340—Buffalo Bill’s Pay Streakfvor, A Box Full of Trouble for the *Paches. 341—Buffalo Bill on Detached Duty ; or, The Break on the Bad Ax Tra 342—Buffalo Bill’s Army Mystery; or, The Rope-and- Catamount Puzzle. or, The Tf you want any back numbers of this publication and cannot procure them from your news: dealer, they can be obtained from this office direct. Postage stamps taken the same as money. STREET & SMITH, Publishers, 79 Seventh Avenue, NEW YORK CITY.