Chapter XVI

WHAT FATE HAS ORDAINED.

Adele had for ancestors, on her father's side of the house, valiant Frenchmen, and she inherited some of their courage.

Red Goliath had paid no attention to her after Mason so suddenly appeared upon the scene of action, and in this disregard he proved his complete ignorance of the young girl's bravery.

When she saw the one she loved so well in the power of this rough assassin, all fear fled for the time being from her heart, and she was brave.

While she alone had been threatened Adele could not help being terror-stricken, but now the case was quite altered.

The revolver that had been knocked from Mason's hand (General Custer's revolver) lay near the young girl. Her eyes had followed its course through the air mechanically, and as she realized what power lay in the little weapon, her eyes flashed. She sprang forward and picked it up.

Just at this instant a man clad in a buckskin, and whose face bore the impress of nature's nobleman, stepped into view. He held up a hand toward Adele, as if telling her to remain a passive spectator, and she, willing to trust her cause in such hands, suffered the revolver that had been raised with so determined a purpose to fall to her side.

One bound, like that of a panther, served to bring Bolly Wherrit in a position where he could enter into the game. As his iron hand came down upon the brawny arm of the giant Hercules, the latter looked up with a startled look. It was his last word upon earth, the curse he uttered; for the ranger buried his knife in that broad chest, with the force of an avenger, and threw the dying monster upon the rocky floor. Mason sprang up and took Adele away to the other end of the cavern, in order that she might not witness what a terrible thing death was.

I shall not dwell upon the convulsive movements of the stricken giant.

Twice he essayed to pull out a revolver, but each time Bolly kicked his arm; and thus foiled of his devilish purpose, the savage man died, foaming at the mouth.

Bolly stood contemplating the body with folded arms.

There was something fascinating, and at the same time repulsive, in the bulky form lying so quiet in the arms of death, and the gray-haired ranger shook his head as he turned away.

"It run agin the grain, that blow did, but 'twar either his life or yers, and I took the choice. He was a fine man in shape, but a devil in mind. Wal, it's the fate o' us all; and the only wonder air how ye've 'scaped so long. Young feller, I reckon az how yer name must be Mason Pierrepont?" said the ranger.

"It is, sir, and to whom are we indebted for this great service," said the boy, clasping an arm tighter around Adele than the circumstances seemed to warrant, seeing that she was only an adopted daughter of his mother.

His words contained a dignity that compelled Bolly to respect him.

"Bolly Wherrit air my name, tho' that ain't o' much consequence. Yer mother engaged me to come arter the leetle gal yonder. Unfortunately I war taken prisoner, but escaped during the fight yesterday. Kin ye tell me anything about it?"

Mason graphically, but concisely, gave an account of Custer's annihilation, at which the old ranger stood aghast, and it was several moments before he recovered.

"Heavens! but thet war orful. Arter that I'm death on the reds. And ye say my chum Pandy Ellis war in it? If they've rubbed out—but no; sech a thing air impossible; Pandy couldn't die so easy. Custer kilt Black Sculley wid his last shot, did he? Then thar's another boarder jest gone. But poor Custer, an' Cooke, handsome Cooke, and Yates, wid whom I've bunked many's the time. Poor boys, it's a bad piece o' bizness, but ef they've kilt my Pandy Ellis, then the world won't be big enuff ter hide ole Sitting Bull an' his chiefs from Bolly Wherrit's rifle;" and the set teeth proclaimed every word meant as it was uttered.

By comparing notes, Mason and the ranger came to a good understanding, and realized the situation of affairs across the river pretty accurately.

It was while they were debating as to their future course, that an alarm occurred in the shape of the sudden appearance of an Indian, who had stumbled upon the cave by accident, as his surprise would seem to indicate.

The prairie ranger proved too quick for the red American, however, and hurling himself upon the Indian, he brought him to the ground.

Here he was speedily secured, with Mason's assistance, and rolled into a corner for safe-keeping.

Fearing lest more of these unwelcome guests should make their appearance, Bolly took his station in the passage leading to the cavern, and there remained all night, while Mason and Adele slept within, or at least made a pretense of sleeping.

But the darkness passed away without any alarm, and daylight found them in the same order, only that all signs of the dead giant had strangely vanished from the cavern, in which mystery Bolly was a participant.

Leaving the others, the ranger went out on a scout, and came back in an hour or so with the news that the remainder of the cavalry were intrenched among the hills on the other side of the river, and battling with the Sioux.

Bolly also brought with him the choice portion of a deer he had shot.

It took but a short time to gather fuel, and soon the olfactories of our friends were greeted by the delicious aroma of roasting venison.

Breakfast dispatched, the situation was discussed again, and at the end of the council it was decided best to remain where they were, and await the movement of the troops.

Mason being acquainted with Custer's intended plans of operation, knew that Terry might be expected, and it might be safer for them to leave in the care of the soldiers, for the vicinity seemed swarming with Indians.

Thus the day passed.

In the evening Bolly took another scout, and witnessed the arrival of General Terry's men.

He was soon with the heroes who had fought so long under Major Reno, and almost the first person he ran across was his chum.

It would have done a philosopher good to have witnessed the meeting between these great-hearted men, each of whom feared the other was dead.

A pressure of the hand that spoke volumes was followed by the expressive glance.

Words fail on such an occasion to convey the idea that other things can tell.

Bolly did not wait to see any of the officers, although many of them were known to him, but rushed his chum to the other side of the river, where he made him acquainted with Mason and Adele.

That night the quartette of friends spent in the cave, enjoying themselves with yarns and good cheer.

In the morning, Bolly proposed a start, urged by the young girl's desire to see home, and the agony of that lady mother in the Southern city, whose tears had accomplished what money alone could never have done.

After reaching Laramie, rapid transit was obtained, and, before many days passed by, the city of New Orleans was reached.

Madame Pierrepont fulfilled all her promises to Bolly, and still thinks that everything she owns would be inadequate to recompense him for saving her dear son and adopted daughter.

I have grave suspicions (aroused by some of young Mason's warm brotherly actions) that the time is not far distant when his wealthy mother will receive pretty Adele as her own daughter, but perhaps they are too young as yet for more than surmises on my part.

Pandy Ellis and his partner started for the field of action again, and by the time this reaches the reader's eye, they will doubtless be at the side of impetuous Major Burt or some other of Cooke's gallant officers.

On their way we lose sight of these princes of the prairies, but let us hope it will not be forever.

Alas! poor Custer!

His memory will ever be green in the memory of his fellow-soldiers.

The whole country mourns his loss, and well they may, for a more dashing, chivalrous, valiant cavalry chief never led his men to battle, and though willful at times, his other qualities completely hid this fault.

Who among us can stand forth, and pointing to himself, say, "Look at me, and take a lesson. I am faultless?" Not one, I am sure.

And with Custer fell the flower of the army; noble men whose names shall ever be cherished by all lovers of the good and brave.

That Pandy Ellis was their first real avenger the reader already knows.

Whether retribution shall overtake Sitting Bull and his warriors, or not, time alone will tell.

As to the movements of the troops under Terry, also those under Cooke, the reader can glean fresher news from the daily papers than I can give.

At present it seems that the Northwest will be the scene of a bloody Indian war which can only terminate with the extermination of the warriors engaged.

As to Pedro Sanchez, he has recovered from the wounds received at the hands of his former companion, Red Goliath, but trembles whenever left alone, for he has in some way heard of the terrible oath sworn by Pandy Ellis to have his life; and if there is one man in the world whom the French Spaniard fears it is the veteran trapper chief.

From the limited papers at my command I have drawn this tale out of the terrible death-ride still so fresh in the public mind, and now that Custer has gone to join his brave fellow-officers in the spirit world, I hope all his faults, such as they were, may be overlooked, and due reverence shown for the name of our missing hero.

[THE END.]