{/ A 
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 4r 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 PROF. CHARLES A. KOFOID AND 
 
 MRS. PRUDENCE W. KOFOID 
 
 .-\. 
 
 
 
: n 
 
 r 
 
 'a* A 
 
 "■:>* 
 
 *T*i ?f 
 
 ^* n ^>*^ 
 
 m 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
Gilbert the Trapper 
 
 OR 
 
 THE HEIR IN BUCKSKIN 
 
 BY 
 
 CAPTAIN C. B. ASHLEY 
 
 AUTHOR OF "LUKE BENNETT'S HIDE OUT," ETC., ETC. 
 
 NEW YORK 
 JOHN W. LOVELL COMPANY 
 
 150 Worth Street, corner Mission Place 
 
 7 \ 
 
7* 
 
 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 JACK WALDRON's RANCH. 
 
 " If there ever was two plucky boys in the world, 
 them's 'urn. Sam, give 'em the best you've got in the 
 shop. The poor critters look like they was 'most 
 tuckered. And Tom, you and Bob jump on to your 
 ponies, and let one ride down to Fort Lewis and tell 
 Colonel Clark the story we've heard from the boys, 
 while t'other one goes to Durango to spread the 
 news there. Off you go, now." 
 
 So spoke old Jack Waldron, the proprietor of one 
 of the largest cattle ranches on our Western fron- 
 tier.. He backed toward the nearest chair and gazed 
 about upon the most excited group of men that had 
 ever been assembled under his roof, after which his 
 eyes wandered to the two boys to whom he had re- 
 ferred, and who lay panting and almost exhausted 
 upon a coucli of buffalo robes and blankets which 
 had been hastily made up in the middle of the floor. 
 It was no wonder that they looked pretty near " tuck- 
 ered," for they had ridden twenty nine hours with- 
 out food or rest, to tell their nearest neighbor, Jack 
 Waldron, that their father's ranch had been raided 
 by the Utes, who had burned the buildings, scattered 
 the herdsmen, and driven off all the cattle they could 
 " round up." 
 
 M31B7fifi 
 
6 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 " And just to think that the biggest of them boys 
 is only ten years old, and that his brother has barely 
 turned eight ! There ain't nary one of you fellows, 
 brave as you thinl; you be, who would care to take a 
 ride like that with no weapons in your hands, and the 
 reds all around you," continued old Jack, looking up 
 at the scowling cowboys who were gathered about 
 him. 
 
 The broad shouldered, red shirted rough riders 
 were quite willing to admit that their employer told 
 nothing but the truth ; and yet Uncle Jack knew, as 
 everybody else does who has ever lived among them, 
 that, taken as a class, there are no men in the world 
 so utterly devoid of fear, and so reckless of life and 
 limb, as the cowboys of our Western plains. There 
 is nothing they dare not do — no clanger they are 
 afraid to face. Like the animals which are their con- 
 stant companions, they are impatient of restraint, and 
 hard to control ; but they stand by a man when he is 
 in trouble, and never forget a friend. There are no 
 sacrifices that they will not cheerfully make for him. 
 
 " No, I don't reckon that any of us hanker after 
 such a ride as them tw 7 o kids took," added Uncle 
 Jack ; and no one dared call him a cow r ard for saying- 
 it, because he had proved his courage in too many 
 trying ordeals. " It beats me how they ever come 
 through to tell the story of that fight." 
 
 " Say, uncle, did the hostiles kill anybody?" 
 
 The stern look faded from the ranchman's eyes, 
 and an expression of anxiety settled on his face. 
 
 " My king ! " he exclaimed, " I forgot all about you. 
 I wish in my soul that you were back in the States 
 where you belong ; I do, for a fact." 
 
 These w r ords were addressed to a boy about sixteen 
 years of age, who just then stepped up and leaned 
 confidingly on the brawny shoulder of the man he 
 called "uncle." He was dressed in cowboy costume; 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 7 
 
 that is to say, he wore a wide brimmed hat, a flannel 
 shirt, and coarse trousers thrust into a pair of heavy 
 boots, whose heels were armed with huge Texus 
 spars. He was a city boy, was Gus Warren, but he 
 did not look like it, for he was as tanned and weather 
 beaten as any of the men who were standing around 
 him. So was his brother, Jerry, who leaned on old 
 Jack's other shoulder. 
 
 These two boys, to quote from the herdsmen, were 
 the life of the ranch. Like a good many other young 
 fellows of their age they were fond of reading stories 
 of Western life and and adventure ; and after many 
 and serious consultations, they had come to the con- 
 clusion that they were intended for cattle raisers, and 
 nothing else. They had an uncle in that business 
 whom they had never seen, and who made it a point 
 to send them, every Christmas, several boxes and 
 bundles containing a lot of things that St. Nick 
 never would have thought of putting in their stock- 
 ings, such as Indian relics, specimens of gold and 
 silver bearing quartz, lariats, Navajo blankets — in 
 fact, he sent them so many things of this sort, that 
 the boys' room was turned into a regular museum. 
 
 This' uncle was old Jack Waldron, their mother's 
 brother. He had never been east of the Mississippi 
 since he left home, almost thirty years ago, to seek 
 his fortune on the Pacific slope. During that time 
 he had led a wild and roving life, and met with many 
 reverses. He had been a miner, seal hanter, specu- 
 lator, and explorer ; and after meeting adventures 
 enough to satisfy him, he had finally settled down to 
 lead a quiet life on his ranch. He did not own an 
 acre of land, but he had about twenty five thousand 
 head of cattle that were worth twenty dollars apiece, 
 and consequently he was pretty well off in the world. 
 
 Of course he corresponded with his nephews Gus 
 and Jerry, and of course he wrote so glowingly of 
 
8 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 the plains, and threw so much romance about a 
 herdsman's life, that he made the boys dissatisfied 
 with everything that was civilized, and created within 
 them an intense longing for the freedom of the prai- 
 rie. He did not mean to do this, and consequently 
 he was not a little astonished when his brother in law 
 wrote him a lengthy letter, telling him of the mis- 
 chief he had unwittingly wrought, and asking what 
 had better be done about it. 
 
 " It's me that made them dissatisfied with their 
 home and yearn to be cowboys, is it ?" said old Jack, 
 wrathfully, holding the letter off at arm's length and 
 shaking his finger at it. " No, I never ; 'cause no- 
 body knows better'n I do that a cowboy's life is one 
 of drudgery and toil, and that where one succeeds a 
 hundred° fail Didn't I work for my board and 
 clothes the first year, and didn't I get more hard 
 words than thanks for trying to do my work the best 
 I knew how? I did, I bet you. Didn't I work hard 
 for four years, taking my pay in cattle, just to get a 
 start in the business? And now that I have got it, 
 do I ever see a minute's peace of my life ? Ain't I 
 in the saddle sixteen hours out of the twenty four, 
 freezing to death two or three times every winter and 
 melting clean away to nothing in the summer ? And 
 don't I— but what r s the use ? If them boys want to 
 come out here and suffer as I do, why let them 
 come." 
 
 So saying, old Jack threw himself into a chair, 
 seized a pen and jabbed it into the inkstand. Here 
 is a portion of the letter he wrote in reply, and I ask 
 you particularly to note the difference between his 
 talking and writing : 
 
 "And as for those uneasy nephews of mine, who 
 have suddenly taken it into their heads that they 
 would like to come out here and see how I live — why, 
 I don't think you need be at all alarmed. I judge by 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 9 
 
 their pictures, and by the very interesting letters 
 they send me, that they are boys of courage and am- 
 bition, that they are fairly overilowing with animal 
 spirits, and it is natural that they should want to 
 work off their surplus energy in some way. They 
 will grow into the sort of men that we need to de- 
 velop this great country. Most of the city bred 
 young men who come here with their pockets full of 
 money, fail for the same reason that they would fail 
 in the States. They go into the cattle business with- 
 out knowing about it, struggle along until their last 
 dollar is gone, and then degenerate into one horse 
 law vers, mule whackers and second rate cowboys, 
 working for little or nothing, because they can't do 
 first class work, We have no more use for such peo- 
 ple here than you have in the States ; but hardy, 
 muscular young fellows, who are not only ambitious 
 to succeed, but determined to do so, in spite of every 
 discouragement — these are the sort we want, and 
 they are bound to make their mark. They don't need 
 money — they are better without it ; for by the time 
 they understand the business well enough to warrant 
 them in setting up for themselves, they will have a 
 small herd of their own, provided they take their pay 
 in cattle. That was the way I got nrv start, and it 
 was the way every successful stock raiser of my ac- 
 quaintance got his. Let the boys come for a twelve- 
 month. I shall be delighted to see them, and if I 
 don't send them home cured of their Western fever, 
 I will at least put them through such a course of 
 sprouts that they will be able to run a ranch of their 
 own. I will give them what I give all my green 
 hands — their board and clothes and a pony to ride ; 
 and that's more than any tenderfoot is worth. Write 
 me when they are coming, and I will meet them at 
 Durango, which is the nearest stage station." 
 
 " There ! " exclaimed Uncle Jack, putting the cork 
 
10 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 into the inkstand and driving it home with a blow of 
 his fist. " If that letter don't open the eyes of them 
 young chaps and make them see that home is the 
 best for them, then nothing short of getting caught 
 out in a blizzard will make them see it." 
 
 He settled back in his chair to read over what he 
 had written, and then it occurred to him that per- 
 haps his nephews, who were entirely unaccustomed 
 to manual labor, might not care to spend a whole 
 year on his ranch if they knew that a cowboy's life 
 was all work and no play. He was so very anxious 
 to see them that he did not want to say anything dis- 
 couraging, and yet he knew it would never do to 
 paint things in colors so glowing that the boys would 
 be disappointed in the reality ; so he added the fol- 
 lowing postscript. He was obliged to write it with 
 a lead pencil, because the cork was driven into the 
 inkstand so tightly that he could not get it out with 
 his fingers : 
 
 " I believe that Gus and Jerry incidentally men- 
 tioned hunting and fishing in one of their letters. 
 Well, if they do their work faithfully they can get as 
 much of it here as they can in the East. There are 
 no buffalo to speak of, the skin butchers having all 
 but annihilated them : but there are plenty of ante- 
 lope on the plains, and elk abound in the foothills. 
 Grizzly bears and mountain lions are the terror of 
 the herdsmen, and as for trout, there are no finer in 
 the world. I give my men a day off, now and then, 
 to fool away in hunting, but I don't encourage such 
 a waste of time. It tends to make them lazy and 
 worthless, and that's no way to get on in the world." 
 
 The letter was sent off without any unnecessary 
 delay, and in process of time an answer was received, 
 containing the welcome intelligence that the two 
 boys were on their way to Durango. Uncle Jack 
 laughed aloud when he read it, rubbed his hands 
 
GILBERT THE TBAPPEB. 11 
 
 gleefully together, and poked his chief herdsman in 
 the ribs with his finger. 
 
 "Boys never know when they are well off, do they, 
 Sam? " said he. " These two nephews of mine have 
 a comfortable home, indulgent parents, and every- 
 thing else that reasonable boys could ask for, and 
 still they are not satisfied. They want to come out 
 here and work themselves to death herding cattle ; 
 and my sister, who is their mother, blames me for it. 
 1 never ' said a word to induce them to come here ; 
 but if I did, I'll make 'em wish I hadn't. By the way, 
 you had better look up a couple of nice ponies for 
 them to ride — gentle ones, mind, for they don't want 
 to have their necks broken the first time they get into 
 a saddle. And, Toby, you had better see that that 
 spue room is freshened up a bit. The boys ain't used 
 to our rough ways, and we'll have to be a little easy 
 on them at first ; but we'll break 'em in, won't we, 
 Sam ? We'll work 'em day and night, through heat 
 and cold, for eighteen hours at a stretch, and make 
 'em wish they had never heard of a cattle ranch. 
 That's the way to break up the Western fever, ain't 
 it, Sam ? Bless their hearts ! I wish they were here 
 this very minute." 
 
 Uncle Jack spoke so earnestly and flourished his 
 clinched hands so vigorously, that a stranger would 
 have thought he meant every word he said, and more, 
 too ; but Sam did not. He knew it would be as much 
 as his situation was worth to ask the expected visitors 
 to do anything they did not want to do. 
 
12 GILBERT THE TRAPPED. 
 
 CHAPTER n. 
 
 RUMORS OF WAR, 
 
 At the time of which I write Gus and Jerry Warren 
 had lived on Uncle Jerry's ranch about five months, 
 and during that period they had won the good w r ill 
 of every one with whom they came in contact. In- 
 deed, it is hard to tell how anybody could help lik- 
 ing them, they were such generous, jolly, good 
 hearted young fellows. Of course they knew noth- 
 ing whatever of life on the plains, and they were sen- 
 sible enough to acknowledge their ignorance. If 
 they had tried to throw on airs over the rough men 
 by whom they were surrounded, it is doubtful if 
 even Uncle Jack's influence and authority could have 
 made their life on the ranch a pleasant and agreeable 
 one ; but they were hail fellows 'well met with every- 
 body, and being possessed of more than ordinary 
 strength, activity and courage, they very soon be- 
 came so expert w T ith the rifle, revolver and lariat, and 
 such adej)ts at riding bucking bronchos, that they 
 could have passed themselves off for cowboys almost 
 anywhere. But as for herding cattle, they did none 
 of it. Uncle Jack wanted to visit w T ith them, and it 
 was no part of his plan to ask them to work. He let 
 them ride about with the cowboys whenever it suited 
 them to do so ; but he wasn't going to have no ten- 
 derfeet fooling with his cattle, he said, because he 
 didn't want to have them stampeded. 
 
 It is hardly necessary for me to add that our young 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 13 
 
 city friends thoroughly enjoyed the life they led on 
 their uncle's ranch. They would have been hard to 
 please if they hadn't enjo; ed it. But remember that 
 up to this time they had seen nothing but the sunny 
 side of a cowboy's existence ; of his trials, dangers 
 and perplexities they knew nothing. But all on a 
 sudden the scene was shifted, and the other side ol 
 the picture was shown to them. The first intimation 
 the hoys had that there was anything wrong was 
 when one of the herdsmen rode m from a distant 
 part of the range and inquired rather anxiously for 
 Uncle Jack. When he found him he reported that a 
 lar-e party of Clnwennes had passed him the daybe- 
 fore, bound for the head waters of Republican Fork 
 on a buffalo hunt. .-..■* » ■ 
 
 '■Didn't they have any soldiers with them, in- 
 quired G-us. r . 
 
 " Of course they did," answered the cowboy. It 
 you happen to see a party of reds roaming about 
 without a blue coated escort, you may know that they 
 are after scalps and plunder, and you had better dig 
 
 out." . 
 
 " Well, if these Cheyennes had an escort, we Have 
 nothing to fear from them," observed Jerry. 
 
 " Don't be too sure of that," said Uncle Jack. Lt 
 the Utes find them out— and they are sure to do 
 that— thev will drive off some of their horses, there 
 will be a tight, and the party that gets the worst ot 
 i+ will want to be revenged on somebody." 
 
 " But not on innocent white people ?" exclaimed 
 
 T "Haw, haw!" laughed Uncle Jack. "It don't 
 make the least particle of difference to an Injun whom 
 he scalps, so long as he gets the scalp, bee . Ihe 
 Utes are a mountain tribe, while the Cheyennes are 
 a plains tribe. Thev hate each other with an undy- 
 ing hatred, and you can't induce one of them to ven- 
 
14 GILBERT THE TRAPPER, 
 
 ture very far into the country of the other. On the 
 plains half a dozen mounted Cheyennes will run the 
 whole tribe of Utes ; but let the fight take place in 
 the mountains, where the country is so broken uj) 
 that horses can't be used, and ten Utes will stand off 
 a thousand Cheyennes. There's going to be a fight, 
 I tell ye, and somebody is going to be whipped," 
 added Uncle Jack, earnestly. " So perhaps you had 
 better see that them outlying herds are driven up a 
 little closer to the post." 
 
 The herdsman mounted his horse and galloped 
 aw*ay to carry out these instructions, and Gus and 
 Jerry looked at each other and at their uncle. The 
 latter didn't seem to think that he and his men were 
 in any danger, but he knew that his cattle were, and 
 the knowledge made him uneasy. 
 
 " Oh, it's a heap of fun to be a stock raiser," said 
 he, when he saw the expression of surprise and anx- 
 iety that had settled on the boys' faces. " You Lave 
 seen the poetry of it, and now you'll learn something 
 of the prose. Now, quit your philandering about 
 over the j^lains, and star around the house, do you 
 hear?" 
 
 "But, uncle, what's the use of soldiers going with 
 that hunting party if it isn't to keep them out of 
 mischief ? " asked Gus. 
 
 " They are simply carrying out orders from Wash- 
 ington, which don't amount to that" replied Uncle 
 Jack, snapping his fingers in the air. "If the Chey- 
 ennes get whipped and lose some of their stock, they 
 will have to re2)lace that stock from somebody's herds, 
 and take a scalp or two before the}* return to their 
 reservation. The main bod}* will still be under charge 
 of the soldiers, and the damage will be done by strag- 
 glers ; see ? If the Utes get the worst of the fight, 
 they, too, will have to go off and get scalps and 
 blunder to heal their wounded pride." 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 15 
 
 " And the ones who do the stealing and scalping 
 will never be punished for it ? " said Jerry. 
 
 " Never in this world," assented Uncle Jack. 
 
 " Didn't you tell us that the Indian who killed 
 General Custer was known, and that he had often 
 boasted of it, as if he had done something to be 
 proud of? " inquired Gus. 
 
 "I did say so." 
 
 " Why didn't the soldiers hang him the minute 
 they got their hands on him ? " 
 
 " Because those fellows who live in Washington 
 and who claim to be the servants of the people, while 
 they are really their masters, wouldn't let'em; that's 
 why," answered Uncle Jack, his eyes flashing and his 
 fingers working convulsively. " The way our Indian 
 affairs are managed would disgrace the Hottentots. 
 The Indians are swindled on every hand, first by our 
 government, which never yet kept a single one of its 
 treaties, and next by the agents and traders. They 
 never receive their annuities in full ; if they did it 
 would be impossible for an agent, with a salary of 
 fifteen hundred or two thousand dollars a year, to 
 retire from his post with a princely fortune. They 
 often suffer from hunger, some of them having 
 starved to death in spite of all the army could do to 
 aid them, and is it any wonder that they are con- 
 stantly on the watch for an opportunity to elude the 
 vigilance of their blue coated jailers, and go off on a 
 plundering expedition ? " 
 
 " Why, Uncle Jack, I didn't know you were such 
 an Indian lover," exclaimed Gus. 
 
 "Neither am I," exclaimed the ranchman, indig- 
 nantly. " I hold, as every one who lives in this coun- 
 try does, that the only good Indian is a dead Indian; 
 and it is the fault of our government that things have 
 come to such a pass. The Utes could jump down on 
 me today and take every hoof I've got, and they 
 
16 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 wouldn't be punished for it ; but if I should go up 
 to the agency and steal some old, broken down crow 
 bait from an Indian, the agent would have me under 
 arrest before I could think twice. O, I tell you it's 
 fun to be a stock raiser, and you two boys don't want 
 to waste any time in getting at it. Now, until I see 
 how this thing is coming out, you had better stick 
 pretty close to the house. That's a word with a bark 
 on it." 
 
 " I am sure that there's something more in the 
 wind than Uncle Jack cares to tell us," said Jerry, as 
 the ranchman mounted his horse and rode away. 
 
 And sure enough there was. Uncle Jack believed 
 that there was danger in the air, and he became pos- 
 itive of it three days later when two of his cowboys 
 rode up to the house, each one of them carrying a 
 pale faced, trembling little boy in front of him. Gkis 
 and Jerry knew at a glance that they were Mr. Wil- 
 son's boys, but how did it happen that they had 
 strayed so far away from home ? The trail that led 
 from Uncle Jack's ranch to Mr. Wilson's was twenty 
 five miles long, and for a third of that distance it 
 ran through the foot hills, which were so thickly in- 
 habited by grizzly bears and mountain lions that 
 even the cowboys did not often ride through them 
 for fun. They supposed, of course, that the boys 
 were lost ; but their uncle's first words showed them 
 that they were mistaken. 
 
 " There, now! " exclaimed the ranchman, bringing 
 his horny palms together with a loud slap. "What 
 did I tell you ? Which is it — the Utes or the Chey- 
 ennes?" 
 
 "The Utes," replied one of the cowboys. "The 
 Cheyennes licked 'em, and they've broke out and are 
 massacring everything iu their way. They wouldn't 
 have been quite so bad, most likely, but when they 
 bounced Wilson and tried to drive off some of his 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPEK. 17 
 
 cattle, he and his men opened on 'em and killed and 
 wounded half a dozen or so. That set 'em to biling, 
 and we've got a war on our hands now, sure pop." 
 
 When these ominous words fell upon their ears, 
 Gus and his brother turned white and trembled all 
 over. This was rather more than they had bargained 
 for. 
 
±8 GILBEET THE TKAPPER. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE PERILS OF FRONTIER LIFE. 
 
 "What do you suppose it was that set the Indians 
 fighting in the first place ? " gasped Jerry, as soon as 
 he had recovered the use of his tongue. 
 
 " Well, in the first place it was bitter hostility," re- 
 plied the cowboy. "And in' the second, it was an 
 unsuccessful attempt on the part of the Utes to stam- 
 pede the horses belonging to the Cheyennes. Their 
 failure made them mad, of course, and as they could 
 not think of going home without an} r thing to show 
 as trophies of their bravery and skill, they jumped 
 onto Wilson, who would have given them another 
 good thrashing if he had only had a few more men 
 to back hiru up. Have you got rested now, so that 
 you can tell me the rest of your story ? " added the 
 herdsman, addressing himself to the boy he held in 
 his arms. 
 
 " Give him here," exclaimed Uncle Jack, starting 
 forward and tenderly lifting the boy from the saddle. 
 " What was I thinking of to let him stay there, when 
 he ought to be tying down? Gus, bring t'other one; 
 and you, Jerry, skirmish around and raise a drink of 
 cold water somewhere. So the}' have cleaned Wilson 
 out, have they ? Well, that's what he gets by being 
 a stock raiser." 
 
 In a very few minutes a rude but comfortable bed 
 had been made on the floor, and the boys were placed 
 upon it. After their hands and faces had been 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 19 
 
 bathed, and they had refreshed themselves with a 
 long and hearty drink of the water that Jerry brought 
 them, cool and sparkling from the well, the older boy 
 was able to give a somewhat disconnected account of 
 his adventures. 
 
 He said that the Indians made an unexpected at- 
 tack upon one of his father's herds in broad daylight, 
 when all the cowboys were on duty, and there was no 
 one besides himself and his brother at home. The 
 herdsmen resisted so desperately and brought so 
 many of the Indians to grief, that the latter finally 
 abandoned the cattle, and devoted all their attention 
 to the whites. The frightened boys heard the rapid 
 reports of firearms mingling with the wild yells of 
 the Indians, and knowing that there was a fight in 
 progress, they did what their father had often told 
 them to do in such an emergency — they took to their 
 heels and concealed themselves in the bushes. 
 
 Having killed or dispersed the herders (the boy 
 could not state positively on that point) the Utes 
 came up and set fire to the house, after robbing it of 
 everything in the shape of clothing and provisions 
 that they could put their hands upon, and the boys 
 lay there in their hiding place and saw them do it. 
 They killed a good many horses and drove off a good 
 many more; but what they did with the seventeen 
 thousand head of cattle that were on the range, the 
 boy said he didn't know. He and his brother waited 
 long for their father — so long that they began to fear 
 he would never come to them any more — and as soon 
 as it grew dark, they caught a couple of ponies and 
 set out for Mr. AYaldron's ranch. They came through 
 the foot hills in the night, and there they lost one of 
 their ponies. It was killed by a mountain lion which 
 sprang suddenly upon it from the thick bushes. 
 
 "My king!" ex 1 aimed Uncle Jack. "It was a 
 wonder he didn't kill you as well as the pony." 
 
20 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 " It was Bobby," said the narrator, nodding toward 
 his brother. " He knocked him off'n the horse, the 
 lion did, and then me and Bobby had to ride t'other 
 one till we found a camp. 
 
 "What day was it that the Utes jumped you?" in- 
 quired Uncle Jack. "It was Tuesday, I reckon, 
 wasn't it, ? What time did they strike your camp ? " 
 he added, turning to the cowboys. 
 
 " One o'clock this morning," was the answer. 
 
 " Then they must have been in the saddle twenty 
 nine hours, without a minute's rest or a bite to eat," 
 exclaimed the ranchman. " If there ever was two 
 brave and plucky boys in the world, them's 'urn. 
 Sam, give 'em the best you've got in the shop." 
 
 Then followed the other orders which I have al- 
 ready recorded. Those thieving Utes must be over- 
 taken and driven back to their reservation before 
 they could do any more damage; and the sooner the 
 commandant of the post could be warned and the 
 pursuit begun, the sooner the trouble would be set- 
 tled. 
 
 When he had seen the cowboys ride away, one 
 toward Fort Lewis and the other toward the stnge 
 station, Uncle Jack turned and looked toward his 
 nephews. 
 
 " Them's the sort of fellows we raise out here," 
 said he, waving his hand toward the boys on the 
 buffalo robes. " What do you think of 'em ? It ain't 
 every grown man who would like to make such a trip 
 as they have had, and I'm as proud of their pluck as 
 I would be if they belonged to me. As for you two, 
 I wish in my soul that you were back in the States 
 w 7 here } t ou belong. Your mother will blame me for 
 this, sure." 
 
 " Blame you because Mr. Wilson's ranch has been 
 sacked by hostile Indians ! " cried Gus. 
 
 "Eh? No; but she will blame me for bringing 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 21 
 
 you out here just in time to get you mixed uj) in an 
 Indian war. Them Utes will run the best they know 
 how, and when the soldiers come up with them and 
 give them the thrashing thev deserve, it will be three 
 or four hundred miles from here; but that won't make 
 any difference to your folks. They will be as uneasy 
 as though the fight took place in my door yard. As 
 soon as I am gone, you must write to them that I 
 have left you in good hands." 
 
 " Are you going away ? " 
 
 "Of course I am. Do you suppose I am willing 
 to stay at home when my nearest neighbor has been 
 robbed and perhaps — — " 
 
 Uncle Jack was about to say "killed;"' but he 
 thought of the listening boys on the buffalo robes 
 and caught his breath in time. He finished the sen- 
 tence by saying: 
 
 " And i^erhaps driven so far into the mountains 
 that it will be a long time before we shall see him 
 again. I ain't that sort of folks. I am going along 
 to help thrash them Indians." 
 
 " And are we going to stay here ? " 
 
 " No. You are going to the post, where you will 
 be safe." 
 
 " Now, Uncle Jack," protested Jerry. 
 
 "I kn ow all about it," interrupted the ranchman. 
 "But I haven't any guarantee that the other Indians 
 will keep still while the Utes are on the rampage, 
 and so I am going to put you where you will be taken 
 care of."' 
 
 The boys said no more, knowing that it would be 
 a waste of words to argue the matter. It was very 
 seldom that their uncle "put his foot down," but 
 when he did he put it there to stay. To quote from 
 the cowboys, he was " sotter'n t be everlasting hills." 
 
 Gais and Jerry could not have told how they lived 
 through the night. Everything about the house was 
 
22 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 as quiet as it usually was, but all the firearms were 
 freshly loaded, and placed where they could be seized 
 at a moment's warning. Uncle Jack's ranch was on 
 the borders of the reservation, and there was no tell- 
 ing whether or not Chief Ouray's influence was strong 
 enough to keep the rest of the tribe from going off 
 to join their rebellious friends and relatives. 
 
 And here I must pause long enough to tell you 
 something of the social life of these agency Indians. 
 It will give you a better understanding of my story. 
 
 The plains Indians are divided into two classes — 
 the Farmer Indians and the Blanket Indians. The 
 former are semi civilized. They have permanent 
 abodes, cultivate the ground, and raise horses, cattle, 
 sheep, hogs, and every other animal usually domes- 
 ticated by the whites, as well as barnyard fowls in 
 great variety and abundance. The Navajos of New 
 Mexico stand at the head of this class. They seldom 
 go upon the war path, because, having plenty to eat 
 and wear, and being let alone by the government, 
 they have no reasonable excuse for it. 
 
 The Blanket Indians, or non treaty Indians, as they 
 are sometimes called, outnumber the peaceably dis- 
 posed Farmer Indians ten to one. They are the fel- 
 lows who retain all their nomadic instincts and sav- 
 age traits. They live in tepees, and roam as far as 
 the limits of their agency will permit, and sometimes 
 much farther. They hate the whites and everything 
 connected with them, and will not submit to control 
 if they can see the smallest chance to escape from it, 
 even for a short time. They are the most discon- 
 tented and turbulent spirits in the tribe. They would 
 be hard enough to manage if left to themselves; but 
 unfortunately they have in their midst a class of men, 
 mostly outlaws, who are never easy unless the band 
 to which they belong is in trouble of some kind. 
 They are generally called "squaw men." By marry- 
 
G1LBEHT THE TRAPPER. 23 
 
 ing Indian wives they secure admission to some tribe, 
 and straightway degenerate into the laziest and most 
 worthless beings on earth. They regularly draw 
 their share of the annuities, deal extensively in con- 
 traband articles, such as arms, ammunition and 
 liquor, and sometimes act as interpreters; but they 
 are not as often called upon to serve in that capacity 
 as they used to be, because the authorities have be- 
 come suspicious that the interpretations of the squaw 
 men are colored to suit their own ends. 
 
 Perhaps you will find, before you get through with 
 it, that one of these squaw men has a good deal to 
 do with my story. 
 
24 GILBERT THE TBAPPER. 
 
 CHAPTEK IY. 
 
 ON THE TRAIL. 
 
 At daylight the ne^t morning three troops of 
 cavalry from Fort Lewis, numbering a hundred and 
 twenty men, rode up to Uncle Jack's ranch, accom- 
 panied by about forty cowboys from Durango and 
 vicinity. To these Uncle Jack added himself and 
 twelve of his herdsmen whom he had selected to go 
 with him, making altogether a force that was strong 
 enough to strike a telling blow T whenever their Paw- 
 nee guides could bring them within reach of the hos- 
 tiles. 
 
 " Now, boys," said the ranchman, extending a hand 
 to each of his nephews, "Sam will take care of you. 
 Do just as he tells you, and you won't get into any 
 trouble with your mother's brother." 
 
 " Have you any idea how long you will be gone ?" 
 inquired Jerry, who was astonished at the coolness 
 and indifference of these men who were going out 
 to face death at the hands of a foe who had never 
 been known to show the least mercy to those who 
 were so unfortunate as to fall into their power. 
 
 " We may be back in a week, and we may not be 
 back for a month," was Uncle Jack's reply. " That's 
 as nigh as I can hit it. Them Indians have got to 
 come to their reservation, if it takes from now till 
 Christmas to make 'em do it." 
 
 " But he wont be gone as long as that," said Sam, 
 as the ranchman swung himself into his saddle and 
 
GILBEliT THE TKAPPER. 25 
 
 galloped after the column. " The hostiles will make 
 it a point to be back here before the snow flies. Have 
 you packed, your saddle bags ? Then bring out your 
 ponies and we will ride down to the post. I should 
 like to have you stay here with me, if your uncle 
 thought it safe for you to do so, but orders are 
 orders, and must be obeyed." 
 
 While the boys are making preparations to go to 
 Fort Lewis, let us join the soldiers and cowboys and 
 see where they went and what they did. It did not 
 take them twenty-nine hours, nor half of it, to reach 
 Mr. Wilson's ranch, because they traveled rapidly, 
 and besides they did not lose their bearings, as the 
 little boys did when they passed along that same trail 
 a short time before. 
 
 Shortly after twelve o'clock the} r were within sight 
 of the ruins of Mr. Wilson's buildings, and a sorry 
 sight it was, too. Nothing but a pile of blackened 
 sun dried bricks remained to mark the spot on which 
 a few days ago had stood a happj T home. With the 
 numerous bodies of horses and cattle, which had 
 been ruthlessly shot down, were mingled the brokfef 
 fragments of household furniture that the savages 
 had destroyed in mere wantonness. 
 
 " How can men look upon a ruin like this and 
 cherish the least spark of loyalty for a government 
 that permits such doings, or feel anything but the 
 bitterest hatred toward the wretches who were the 
 cause of it V " exclaimed the leader of the Durango 
 cowboys. " Scatter out, fellows, and see if you can 
 find anything of Wilson and his men." 
 
 There was not a man among the soldiers who did 
 not feel like cheering the bluff old cowboy for this 
 fearless expression of his honest sentiments, but they 
 dared not do it. They had often wished that the men 
 who were at the head of our Indian affairs could be 
 compelled to take their places during one short cam- 
 
2i> GILBEET THE TRAPPER. 
 
 p.iigu, bat they were afraid to say so in the presence 
 of their officers. The cowboy, being a civilian, was 
 a privileged character. 
 
 The order to " scatter out " was obeyed with fear 
 and trembling, the soldiers joining in the search, but 
 taking care not to become too widely separated; but 
 before they had ridden far, they were recalled by a 
 blast of the bugle. As they fell into line, the sol- 
 diers in the center and the cowboys on the flanks, 
 they looked around to discover the alarm, and saw 
 that one of the scouts, who had ridden so far in ad- 
 vance that he and his horse could but just be seen 
 on the summit of a distant hill, had been joined by 
 a dozen or more mounted men, with whom he was 
 holding a consultation. 
 
 " More cowboys," said Uncle Jack, whose eyes were 
 almost as good as a field glass. " I don't think we 
 need waste any more time here, 'cause that chap on 
 the gray horse is Wilson." 
 
 And so it proved. The owner of the ranch came 
 up in a few minutes, bringing all his herdsmen with 
 him. Two of them were wounded, to be sure, but 
 they were still able to sit in their saddles and do bat- 
 tle as well as any of their comrades. 
 
 " Well, it ain't by no means as bad as we thought 
 it was," said Uncle Jack, who had ridden forward to 
 shake hands with his neighbor. "We have been 
 searching for your bodies." 
 
 " It's bad enough," replied Mr. Wilson, looking 
 around at the ruins of his home. "We followed 
 along after them till they struck the hills, and then 
 we had to stop for fear of being ambushed. We 
 killed nine of them, but the death of every red on 
 the plains would not atone for the loss of my boys." 
 
 " What boys ? " asked Uncle Jack. 
 
 " My boys, I tell you," replied Mr. Wilson, glaring 
 savagely at the man before him. 
 
GILBERT THE TBAPPEB. 27 
 
 " I wouldn't get huffy about its neighbor," said old 
 Jack, with exasperating coolness and deliberation. 
 " Even if you do, I shan't be sorry that I took em in 
 and sent them to the fort with my nephews." 
 
 These words produced a great change in the angry 
 ranchman. When he came up he was so nearly be- 
 bide himself with rage that he was ready to shout his 
 best friend, and all because he believed that his 
 motherless boys had been carried into captivity by 
 the hostiles. He knew that the Indians had not 
 killed them, for he and his men had looked over every 
 foot of the ground for a mile or more on all sides of 
 the ranch, without finding any traces of them. But 
 when he learned that they were in good hands, the 
 angry scowl faded from his face, and he broke down 
 completely. His lip quivered and his eyes filled with 
 tears as he leaned over the horn of his saddle and 
 extended his hand to Uncle Jack. 
 
 " You needn't trouble yourself to say it, because 
 the credit belongs to the boys themselves, and not to 
 me," said the latter, soothingly. " As they went a 
 right smart piece out of their way, it took them 
 twenty nine hours to find friends, and when they rode 
 into one of my camps they were pretty well played; 
 but a good night's rest and a jolly tuck out put them 
 all right, and this morning they were as lively and 
 pert as you please." 
 
 " How many Indians were there in the* party ? " 
 asked the officer who commanded the cavalrymen. 
 
 "I saw about thirty," replied Mr. Wilson. "But 
 that's no sign that there were not more of them." 
 
 "Xo; and neither is it any sign that they haven't 
 been joined, before this time, by a good many more 
 from the agency," said Uncle Jack. " There's a 
 heap of discontent down there, cap." 
 
 " I don't know that we can be blamed for that," 
 answered the officer. 
 
28 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 "I ain't so much as hinting that you soldiers are 
 to blame for it," said Uncle Jack. " I'm just telling 
 you how the thing stands; hut you've got e3 r es and 
 ears, and you probably know as much about it as I 
 do. It's just as one of my cow punchers said yester- 
 day: 'We've got an Indian war on our hands, sure 
 
 POP-' " 
 
 " Oh, I hope not," said the captain. 
 
 "Well, you wait and see if I ain't right. We'll 
 find more'n thirty Utes to fight when we get to the 
 hills; mark that." 
 
 " There's lots of squaw men among them, too," 
 added Mr. Wilson. "I saw them and heard their 
 voices." 
 
 " Those fellow r s are always ready for an outbreak 
 when there is a chance to steal anything. Can you 
 lead the command to the place where the Indians left 
 the plains and struck for the hills ? " said the officer, 
 turning to Mr. Wilson. 
 
 The latter could and did. It took him the best 
 part of two days, and after that the Pawnees went in 
 advance, and for a week more led the column along 
 a dim and difficult trail, to the place where the Utes 
 had turned at bay. It was in a natural fortress — the 
 top of a round hill, whose cap rock was between 
 twenty and thirty feet in height. Leading through 
 this rock were tw r o or three gaps, which were so nar- 
 row that a single determined man stationed at each, 
 w r ith a Winchester rifle or a brace of revolvers in his 
 hands, could have withstood almost any number of 
 assailants, so long as ammunition and provisions held 
 out. 
 
 The first intimation the pursuers had of the pres- 
 ence of their wily foes was a volley from the top of 
 the hill, which threw them into confusion, and proved 
 the death of two reckless cowboys, who, in spite of 
 repeated warnings (orders they never would obey un- 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 29 
 
 less it suited them to do so), persisted in marching 
 far in advance of the trailers. One of them was 
 killed outright, and the other severely wounded — 
 but he managed, by the exercise of almost superhu- 
 man strength, to reach the shelter of a neighboring- 
 bowlder, and there he lay, in full view of his horri- 
 fied friends below, who dared not attempt his rescue 
 while daylight lasted. The steep, almost perpendic- 
 ular sides of the hill were bare of cover, and it would 
 have been certain death to the man who attempted 
 to scale it. 
 
 Had it not been for the impatience of some of the 
 younger Utes, who were anxious to distinguish them- 
 selves by killing a white man, the pursuing party 
 would have suffered great loss from that first volley. 
 As it was, these two cowboys were the only ones in- 
 jured. 
 
 " Prepare to fight dismounted ! " shouted the cap- 
 tain, and the order was obeyed with unwonted alac- 
 rity- , 
 
 Leaving a few of their number to protect the 
 
 wounded man behind the bowlder, the soldiers fell 
 back to the first turn in the canyon, sprang off their 
 horses and took to the shelter of the rocks to fight 
 the Indians in their own way. 
 
 " Oh, boys ! " shouted a shrill voice from the top 
 of the hill. 
 
 " That's Buckskin Bob, if I ever heard him speak," 
 said Mr. Wilson, who was crouching in his place of 
 concealment close by Uncle Jack's side- 
 
 The latter looked up and saw the figure of a man 
 standing out in bold relief against the blue back- 
 ground of the sky. He was perched upon the very 
 top of the cap rock, tw T enty feet or more above the 
 heads of his Indian allies,' who were hidden on the 
 brow of the hill. 
 
 " That squaw man is tired of living— don't you 
 
30 GILBERT THE TiiAPPER, 
 
 reckon so ?" said Uncle Jack, as he drew back the 
 hammer of his Winchester, and pushed the weapon 
 over the rock in front of him. "He ain't an inch 
 over three hundred and fifty yards away, and if he 
 will hold that position just a second longer " 
 
 "Oh, boys! " shouted the renegade again ; "you're 
 a pack of cowards down there. Why don't you come^ 
 up and get this cow puncher? He's old Wal- 
 dron's man ; and if Waldron's among you, he had 
 o ughter " 
 
 The report of Uncle Jack's Winchester cut short 
 his taunting speech. When the smoke cleared away 
 the squaw man was seen reeling about on the top of 
 the cap rock. He grasped wildly at the empty air, 
 and pitched headlong among the rocks beneath. 
 
 "Old Waldron is here," observed Mr. Wilson, 
 when he witnessed the result of his friend's shot. 
 
 But the sequel proved that he had not seen the 
 full result of it. Strange things were destined to 
 grow out of it. It set in motion a series of events 
 the like of which had never been heard of before, 
 even in that land of wonders. 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 51 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE UNKNOWN SCOUT. 
 
 The result of Uncle Jack AYaldron's long shot 
 brought a chorus of savage yells from the Utes, who, 
 in the death of the squaw man, had lost a valued 
 friend and counselor. Sheets of name leaped from 
 every crevice in the cap rock, and another shower of 
 ballets rattled down among the logs and stones that 
 covered the bottom of the canyon. The cavalrymen 
 raised their charging shout in answer to the yells 
 and sent back shot for shot ; but their bullets were 
 necessarily thrown at random, for the fire of the Utes 
 was so accurate that they dared not raise their heads 
 long enough to make sure of their aim. 
 
 "This thing can't last forever. They've got us in 
 a dry canvon, and I don't know where there is any 
 water to be had ; do you? " said the captain, appeal- 
 ing to Uncle Jack. 
 
 " There's a nice spring up there on the other side 
 of that rock," replied the ranchman. " But I wouldn't 
 care to go to it, for the hostiles have got it too well 
 covered . If there's another drop within ten miles 
 of here, T don't know where it is." 
 
 " The Utes were sharp enough to shut us off from 
 the water, cap," observed one of the cowboys, who 
 hippened to overhear this conversation, "I'm as 
 drv as a biscuit, and 111 bet that poor Aleck's throat 
 is "on fire," he added, jerking his thumb over his 
 shoulder toward the place where the wounded horse- 
 man lay behind his rock. 
 
32 GILBERT THE TRAPPER 
 
 "I wish there was some way to get him out of that 
 and bring him inside our lines," said the captain, anx- 
 iously. " I don't like to think of what will be sure to 
 happen when it grows dark, so that the Utes can slip 
 down to him without danger to themselves. Now, 
 then, what fool is that ? Look out how you -throw 
 your bullets there to the left. Don't you see that 
 
 man i 
 
 These words were called forth by a most extraor- 
 dinary incident that happened just then. While the 
 fire from both sides was at its hottest, a figure clad 
 all in buckskin suddenly made its appearance be- 
 tween the lines. Where it came no one knew ; but 
 all the cowboys, and not a few of the soldiers, were 
 willing to declare that it must have sprung from the 
 ground, because it did not seem possible that it 
 could have reached the place where it was first seen 
 without being struck by bullets from one side or the 
 other. But whoever he was, he was friendly to the 
 soldiers— that was plain ; for he showed himself to 
 them openly and fearlessly, while he took every pre- 
 caution to conceal his movements from the enemy on 
 
 the hill. 
 
 "It can't be that he is one of our— are my eyes go- 
 ing back on me?" cried the captain, who had leveled 
 his field glass at the object in buckskin. " It's a boy, 
 as sure as I live." 
 
 " What would a boy be doing out there ? " said 
 Uncle Jack, incredulously. 
 
 " You don't believe me, do you ? " exclaimed the 
 captain. " Then take my glass and look for your- 
 self. If it isn't a boy, it is a woman. What do you 
 say, lieutenant?" he continued, turning to one of 
 his officers, who stood with his glass to his eyes. 
 " He isn't one of our scouts, is he ? " 
 
 ' No, sir," answered the young officer, in emphatic 
 tones. " We have no beardless boys in our outfit. 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 33 
 
 I say, captain, lie's got something for you. Look at 
 that." 
 
 The figure in buckskin, who up to this time had 
 been crawling along flat on his stomach, working his 
 way over logs, through bushes and around rocks 
 with as much ease apparently as a cat could h;tve 
 done it, now reached the cover of a bowlder which 
 was large enough to conceal him entirely from the 
 view of the watchful foe on the hill. Here he raised 
 himself to a sitting posture, drew a piece of white 
 paper from his pocket, and waved it back and forth 
 so that the soldiers could see it. Then he turned 
 himself partly around, pointed to the south and west, 
 and made various other motions which the captain 
 could not understand. 
 
 " What in the world is he trying to get through 
 himself?" said the latter, in great bewilderment. 
 
 " Pass the word for one of the Pawnees, cap," sug- 
 gested Uncle Jack. " He is talking to us in the sign 
 language." 
 
 " Then I've a good notion to have him shot right 
 w r here he sits," declared the captain. "How do I 
 know but that he is a renegade, like the one you sent 
 to kingdom come a few moments since ? He is on 
 the wrong side of the line for a white man." 
 
 "I don't blame you for being suspicious of him," 
 said Mr. Wilson, "but my advice to you is to hold 
 your hand till you see what his game is. It w r ill be 
 time enough to shoot him when you become certain 
 that he is playing you false." 
 
 "Perhaps it will," replied the captain, with some 
 reluctance. "But I'm afraid of renegades, and don't 
 want to have anything to do with them. Lieutenant 
 Bolton, send somebody after one of the trailers. Be 
 careful not to expose yourself while you are passing 
 along- the line." 
 
 While the consultation was being held, the boy 
 
34 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 in buckskin had repeated his pantomime two or three 
 times, but at last he seemed to despair of making the 
 soldiers comprehend him, for paying no further at- 
 tention to them, he once more threw himself upon 
 his face and began a critical examination of the 
 ground between himself and the wounded cowboy. 
 The latter had his eye on Mm all the time, and ap- 
 peared to be trying to make up his mind whether he 
 ought to shoot him or not. He was not whipped if 
 he was wounded. He fully expected that thelites 
 would soon be down after- his scalp, and he was 
 ready to make a desperate resistance whenever they 
 came. 
 
 Seeing that he had attracted the cowboy's atten- 
 tion, the figure in buckskin held his canteen up to 
 view, whereupon the wounded man beckoned fran- 
 tically for him to bring it up — an appeal which this 
 unknown friend could not resist. He began working 
 his course up the hill just as the chief of the Pawnee 
 trailers crept up to the captain's side. 
 
 " Turkey Leg, do you know who that fellow out 
 there is ? " inquired the officer. " AValdron doesn't, 
 neither do I. He was making some motions to us, 
 and I sent for you to interpret them for me; but I 
 don't think I shall need you now, for I see that he is 
 going toward that wounded cowboy. Bolton, keep 
 a brisk fire all along the line to divert the enemy's 
 attention. We fellows right here," he continued in 
 a lower tone, " will keep him covered to see that he 
 doesn't play any tricks." 
 
 The man'between the lines probably did not know 
 how very suspicious of him the soldiers were, for he 
 made not the least effort to keep out of their sight. 
 He seemed to think of nothing but the wounded man 
 toward whom he was slowly but surely making his 
 way, taking advantage of every stone, bush and in- 
 equality of the ground to conceal his approach. At 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 35 
 
 the end of twenty minutes, during which time the 
 attacking party had been "pumping in the lead " as 
 fast as they could shove the cartridges into the cham- 
 bers of their breech loaders, the soldiers saw him 
 crawl up beside the thirsty cowboy, lift his head 
 from the ground and place the canteen to his lips. 
 
 Then a cheer long and loud — a triumphant cheer, 
 such as they had often sent upon the field of battle 
 when they saw reinforcements hastening toward them 
 — rang through the canyon, and the bullets were 
 "pumped in" faster than ever. 
 
 " That fellow, whoever he is, has made life long 
 friends of me and my outfit," exclaimed Uncle Jack, 
 when he cheered himself hoarse. " Ain't you sorry 
 you didn't tell your men to shoot him, cap ? My 
 king ! What's the fellow trying to do now ? " 
 
 The next move on the part of the unknown scout 
 (fur as sucli they began to speak of him now) as- 
 tonished everybody who witnessed it. First he 
 secured the weapons of the wounded cowboy, after 
 which he backed up close to him, drew his arms 
 over his shoulders and crawled away with him. 
 
 The yells of encouragement which arose from the 
 canyon at last aroused the suspicions of the Indians, 
 who sent some of their warriors to the to}} of the cap 
 rock to inquire into the matter. But if they dis- 
 covered anything they did not live to report it, for 
 as fast as they showed their heads, they became 
 targets for half a dozen long range rifles, held and 
 sighted by men who were dead shots. After they 
 had lost some of their best men, the Utes ceased to 
 expose themselves. 
 
 The incidents which I have described in so few 
 words occupied the best part of the day in taking 
 place. It was about eleven o'clock when the un- 
 known scout first made his appearance between the 
 lines, and it was four in the afternoon when he 
 
36 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 crawled out of sight with the disabled cowboy on 
 his back. No one knew where he went, and there 
 was no way of finding out. 
 
 " By George ! " exclaimed Captain Brent, thought- 
 fully, when one of his men came up to tell him that 
 his supper of bacon and hard tack was waiting for 
 him. "I have just got something through my head, 
 Waldron. If that was a trick on the part of the 
 hostiles to get that cowboy's scalp, it was the neatest 
 thing I ever heard of." 
 
 "My king," was all Uncle Jack could say, while 
 Mr. Wilson and the other ranchmen and herders who 
 were standing around simply looked their astonish- 
 ment. 
 
 "Taken altogether, wasn't it the most mysterious 
 thing you ever heard of? By George ! I believe I 
 made a great mistake in not shooting that man on 
 sight. If he was a friend, where is he now? Why don't 
 he show up ? He has had plenty of time to work his 
 way along the side of the canyon into our — eh ? By 
 George ! Here — he — is — now ! " 
 
 These last words came out very slowly, as if the 
 captain were thinking about one thing and talking 
 about another, as indeed he was. He was astonished 
 beyond measure at what he saw when Lieutenant 
 Bolton stepped up with a salute, and tapped him on 
 the shoulder to attract his attention. And well he 
 might be, for there stood the scout whom he thought 
 he ought to have shot on sight ! 
 
 Uncle Jack said " My king ! " a good many times, 
 and after several attempts gained sufficient control 
 of his powers of speech to say — " Are you the — 
 the " 
 
 Then he hesitated. The person he was addressing 
 did not look like a boy, and he certainly was not a 
 man. Uncle Jack did not know what to call him, so 
 Captain Brent came to his assistance. 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 37 
 
 " Are you the brave fellow who crawled around 
 out there aud rescued that cowboy?" said he. 
 
 " I gave him a drink of water that he was much in 
 need of, and I am quite sure I saved his scalp," re- 
 plied the scout, whose perfect English astonished 
 everybody within hearing. 
 
 " Are you a government scout ? " continued the 
 captain. 
 
 ^No, sir. I am a volunteer scout attached to 
 Major Payne's command," answered the new comer, 
 handing out the letter which he had exhibited while 
 he was sitting behind the rock. " Have you no one 
 with you who can converse in the sign language V I 
 tried to make you understand that there are two 
 hundred men marching up this canyon from the 
 southwest." 
 
 " Good enough ! " exclaimed Captain Brent, tear- 
 ing open the envelope. " Where do you belong ? " 
 
 "Anywhere that night overtakes me, sir. I have 
 no permanent abiding place. The man who claims 
 to be my father, and who has often threatened to 
 shoot me because I will not acknowledge the re- 
 lationship, lives on the lower reservation and draws 
 his rations from there. He is a squaw man." 
 
 " What is your name ? " asked the captain, growing 
 more and more astonished. 
 
 " Gilbert the trapper." 
 
 " Gilbert who ? Gilbert what ? " 
 
 " Gilbert nothing, sir. That's the only name I've 
 got." 
 
 " ATy king ! " whispered Uncle Jack. "The boy 
 is as crazy as a loon." 
 
38 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 " Yes, sir," repeated Uncle Jack, " the boy is plumb 
 crazy, and to my mind that accounts for his brave 
 doings out there between the lines. He didn't have 
 sense enough to know the risk he was running." 
 
 "To my notion, he didn't run any risk at all," 
 observed a cowboy. " If he came from the lower 
 reservation, of course all the Utes must know who 
 and what he is, and they wouldn't have shot him 
 even if they had seen him. You know how super- 
 stitious the Indians are regarding crazy persons, 
 They think it bad medicine to interfere with them in 
 any way." 
 
 The object of these remarks could not have been 
 unconscious of the curiosity which his sudden and 
 unexpected appearance excited in the minds of the 
 soldiers and their cowboy allies, but he did not seem 
 to mind it in the least. He sheltered himself behind 
 a rock near which Captain Brent was sitting, and 
 waited imtiently for him to finish the reading of 
 Major Payne's fetter. Uncle Jack and his friends 
 took the opportunity to give him a good looking 
 over. 
 
 He was a boy not more than seventeen years old, 
 and it was the unanimous verdict of those who were 
 sitting around, and making a mental estimate of him, 
 that no sculptor or painter could have conceived a 
 handsomer face and figure than his. 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 39 
 
 His clothing, from the Mexican sombrero, which 
 sat jauntily over his long curly hair, to the mocca- 
 sins that protected his feet, was of the finest material, 
 and adorned with fringe and many colored heads. 
 His weapons, too, must have cost a tidy sum of 
 money, for they were all of approved manufacture 
 and silver mounted. His hands and face were tanned 
 as brown as the hot sun of the plains could make 
 them, but his hair and eyes belonged to a blonde of 
 the most pronounced type. He did not at all affect 
 the Kattlesnake Kob or the Coyote Charlie swagger, 
 as do many plainsmen who have less to boast of than 
 Gilbert had, but he was modest in demeanor, and his 
 language showed that he knew how to be respectful. 
 His'face wore an expression of sadness, which seemed 
 to have been indelibly imprinted there, and his blue 
 eyes had in them a wistful, longing look that excited 
 Uncle Jack's sympathy, and led him to tell Mr. 
 Wilson, in a whisper, that the boy had seen trouble, 
 young as he was, and plenty of it, too. 
 
 "I was just telling myself the same thing," was 
 Mr. Wilson's reply. "I wonder if he has ever been 
 under fire before! He acts as if he had, for he 
 doesn't pay any more attention to the bullets than 
 the soldiers do. Is he a squaw man's son ? " 
 
 "It may be that he is," said Uncle Jack, slowly. 
 "You know that there are a good many among that 
 class of men who used to be respectable once, but 
 who had to dig away from the States in order to get 
 out of reach of the law. Gilbert may be the son of 
 a forger, or somebody like that, who thought it best 
 to come here and hide in the mountains." 
 
 " But it can't be that his mother was an Indian 
 woman," continued Mr. Wilson. 
 
 "Not much, she wasn't," replied Uncle Jack, em- 
 phatically. "His features and everything else about 
 him give the lie to any story of that sort." 
 
40 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 " But look at his fine fixings." 
 
 " Well, look at 'em ! Can't you see that they have 
 been selected and put on with the nicest taste? 
 Give an Indian or a halfbreed all them things, and 
 see what ridiculous shape he would get himself up 
 in. I would like much to know his history." 
 
 " So would I. There's something very strange and 
 mysterious about him. He seems to believe that the 
 man who claims to be his father is no relation to 
 him, and yet he chums with dirty agency Indians 
 and squaw men. Explain that if you can." 
 
 " It is quite bej'ond me. There comes Robinson," 
 replied IJncle Jack, nodding toward one of the 
 scouts who was creeping along the line in their 
 direction. " He knows eveiwone on the reservation. 
 Let's ask him." 
 
 " Well, Gilbert," said Captain Brent, folding up 
 the letter the scout had given him and putting it 
 away in his pocket, "you have brought me the best 
 kind of news. Our work is nearly done, gentlemen," 
 he added, addressing himself to the cow men in 
 general and to no one in particular. " We have had 
 a heavy force operating with us all the time, and 
 we never knew it. This seems to be a general up- 
 rising, but we are going to put it down inside of a 
 week. The lower Indians have left their reservation, 
 but Major Payne has already headed them off, and 
 he writes me that he is now moving up the canyon 
 to attend to the hostiles in our front. If our friends 
 on the hill staj T there two hours longer, we shall 
 capture the last one of them. Did you want to speak 
 with me, Robinson ? " 
 
 "I reckon," replied the scout, after he had shaken 
 hands with Gilbert the trapper. Uncle Jack and 
 his friend Wilson, were glad to see him do that, for 
 it proved that he was acquainted with their mysteri- 
 ous visitor, and they hoped he might be able to tell 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER, « 
 
 thorn something about him. " I come up to tell you 
 his herrca/'° added Robinson. - Them Utes has 
 a couHer come to their lines with news as well as we 
 have! an' they ain't gom> to stay thar and let Major 
 Payne corner 'em like rats into a buttery. ( _ The) le 
 diffein' out o' that as fast as ever they can. 
 
 "How do you know?" exclaimed the captain, 
 jumping to his feet ; but he immediately sat down 
 S, for no sooner did he show himself above the 
 stone' parapet which the "^.^S^H 
 hastily thrown up for their protection, than a bullet 
 f^m the top of the hill struck his cap and knocked 
 
 ^SK that they ^as all g one car £ said 
 the scout. " I jest made the remark that they was 
 
 Join' I know it from the slackin' of their lire, which 
 was done all on a sudden like ; but they ve left a 
 Zr guard behind, an' you don't want to poke your 
 head about too loose and reckless. 
 
 «I wonder if that rear guard is strong enough to 
 resist an advance, if we should make one, said Cap- 
 
 tain Brent. „ .. . «;* _.-,. 
 
 "Well" replied the scout, reflectively, it 50U 
 take a notion to order an advance, I reckon the boys 
 would Z ; but if you will wait till daylight tomorrer 
 you can walk up to that cap rock without losin any- 
 
 b °" I suppose so, but what are we to do for water in 
 
 tb " The're'sTstreain about a mile from here at which 
 I filled mv canteen," said Gilbert. "When it gets a 
 Uttle darker I can go down there with a few men and 
 brino- back as much water as you want. 
 
 *ft wouldn't be safe for the command to move up 
 and get command of that stream, I suppose? Ine 
 horses want water worse than we do. 
 
 'if you mean to ask my advice, I would say, stay 
 
42 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 where you are for the night," answered Gilbert. 
 " No matter which side of the hill you go, the Utes' 
 rear guard will cut you off ; and the ground is so 
 favorable for an ambuscade, that oue man behind the 
 rocks can stand off a whole company. I say, captain, 
 that man of yours is pretty badly hurt, and I should 
 think you ought to send for him." 
 
 The officer thought so, too, and ordered Turkey 
 Leg, the Pawnee, to take four of his Indians and go 
 with Gilbert, who would show them where the cow- 
 boy was. The chief silently obeyed, and when he 
 and the young scout were out of hearing, the captain 
 turned to Robinson and asked who that young fel- 
 low in buckskin was. 
 
 "You wouldn't b'lieve that he's ole Pete Axley's 
 son if I should tell you so, would you ? "was Robin- 
 son's answer. 
 
 The captain did not know Pete Axley, except by 
 reputation ; but Uncle Jack and some of the other 
 cow men were well acquainted with him, and they 
 one and all hastened to declare that they knew bet- 
 ter — that that fine young fellow was not in anj T way 
 related to the squaw man and desperado. 
 
 " You can get a fight out of Pete any time you 
 want it, by jest sayin' them words in his hearin'," 
 said Robinson. " I ain't tellin' you that they're true, 
 be I ? I'm only givin' you the story as I got it." 
 
 "Who was his mother?" inquired Uncle Jack. 
 
 " You tell," answered the scout. " Gilbert himself 
 ain't got nary an idee of it, an' Pete says she's dead. 
 Mebbe she is and mebbe she ain't. Pete, 'cording to 
 his own tell, uster be a gentleman, but he done 
 something that the lawyers didn't like, an' so he had 
 to come out yer. 1 ' 
 
 " Where does Gilbert live ? " asked the captain. 
 
 "Well, when he lives anywhars, it's down to the 
 lower agency ; but he's in the mountings, mostly, 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 43 
 
 'long o' that pardner of liis'n. An' thar's something 
 mighty queer about that pardner too, same's thai* is 
 about Gilbert. He popped up all on a sudden, with- 
 out tellin' nobody whar he come from, an' him an' 
 Gilbert has stuck together ever since." 
 
 " How does it come that he is so dandified in his 
 dress?" 
 
 " Laws, cap, how can you ax that question, an' you 
 liviu' right thar at the post? Thar ain't no bigger 
 dandies in the States than thar is among the army 
 officers here on the plains. But Gilbert has been 
 down to the Navajo nation a time or two, on a sort 
 of tradin' expedition, an' course he seen Mexikin 
 Greasers thar. An' then the women folks at the post 
 give him the fine words he slings about so reckless. 
 He talks as purty as a pictur' book, don't he ? " 
 
 "Yes ; and it was his correct English, as well as 
 his appearance that made me take an interest in him. 
 Why does he stay around in this desolate region? I 
 should think lie would prefer to live in the city. He 
 looks as if he might have been born there." 
 
 " Well, it's a kind of fool notion that keeps him 
 around the agency," replied the scout. " He's got a 
 kind of a sneakin' idee that he knowed other people 
 an' other things afore he come yer, Gilbert has, an' 
 that there's somebody around the post who will tell 
 him by and by who he is, an' all about it ; an' he 
 hangs on to that notion spite of all you can say agin 
 it. He ain't by no means the only one who holds to 
 it, nutlier. I beared the agent say, with my own 
 ears, that he'd bet thar was a fortin' wrapped up in 
 that thar boy, an' that thai* was somebody somewhars 
 who would give money to know whar he was. An' 
 blessed if I don't think so, too." 
 
 All this while a stream of bullets had been passing 
 up and down the canyon between the top of the hill 
 and the rude fortifications behind which the cavalry- 
 
44 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 men were sheltered ; but so cautious were the con- 
 tending parties, that it is probable that their well 
 sustained fire resulted in nothing more serious than 
 a useless waste of ammunition. It is certain that 
 there were no more casualties among the soldiers 
 and their allies. 
 
 In due time Gilbert the trapper came back, accom- 
 panied by the Pawnees and Uncle Jack's cowboy, 
 whose wounds had been bathed and dressed with 
 herbs, and shortly after that darkness put an end to 
 the conflict. Then guards were posted, and a second 
 party was sent out, under the guidance of the young 
 scout, to bring in a supply of water. 
 
 Those who were left behind were too tired to await 
 their return. Wrapping their blankets about them, 
 they lay down where they had fought, and soon sank 
 into a deep slumber. Uncle Jack dreamed of Gilbert 
 the trapper, but he did not dream of what the next 
 day was destined to bring forth. 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 45 
 
 CHAPTER YII. 
 
 THE RENEGADE'S STORY. 
 
 Daylight the next morning found Captain Brent's 
 men in motion, and as scout Robinson Lad predicted, 
 they marched up to the cap rock without losing any 
 of their number. There was no enemy there to op- 
 pose them, and nothing but two or three little pools 
 of blood to show that the Utes Lad suffered at all 
 from the fire which the soldiers had rained upon 
 them for so many hours. Following their usual cus- 
 tom, they had carried away all their dead and 
 w r ounded, in order to keep them from falling into the 
 hands of the Pawnee trailers, who would have re- 
 moved their scarps, and so forever shut their spirits 
 out of the happy hunting grounds. 
 
 But there was one member of their band in whose 
 future they were not at all interested, and that was 
 the renegade who had been knocked off the summit 
 of the cap rock by a shot from Uncle Jack's Win- 
 chester. They left him where he had fallen, paying 
 no heed to his piteous appeals for a drop of water to 
 moisten his parched lips. If he Lad been an Indian, 
 tbey would Lave risked tLe lives of a dozen of their 
 best warriors to bring him to a place of safety ; but 
 he was a white man, and a very contemptible one at 
 that, and why should they bother their heads about 
 him ? It made no difference to them whether he ever 
 saw T the happy hunting grounds or not. 
 
 For long hours the wretched man lay among the 
 
46 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 rocks, and there he was eventually discovered by the 
 man who had given him his wound, and who was one 
 of the skirmishers sent forward by Captain Brent to 
 cover the advance of the main body of his troops. 
 
 Uncle Jack's first thought was to put another ball 
 into him and send him at once where he would never 
 again take part in an Indian outbreak ; but the 
 wounded man looked up at him so imploringly that 
 the old fellow relented, and the rifle which he had 
 partly drawn to his face fell into the hollow of his 
 arm again. 
 
 " Water, water ! " gasped the renegade. 
 
 " Ah, yes ! " replied Uncle Jack, fiercely. " Why 
 didn't you think of this before you come out 
 with them Utes to fight agin the men of 3 r our own 
 race, you ugly varmint? There wouldn't be half this 
 stealing and scalping going on if it wasn't for the 
 likes of you, and I am half a mind to crack you on 
 the head." 
 
 A stranger would have thought, from the way he 
 talked and acted, that he was fully minded to do it ; 
 but Uncle Jack wasn't that sort. He unslung his 
 canteen and handed it to the renegade, who raised it 
 to his lips with trembling hands, and never took it 
 away again until the last drop it contained had been 
 poured down his burning throat. 
 
 " There, now, you white Indian ! " exclaimed Uncle 
 Jack, " I hope you feel better. Ain't you just the 
 least bit ashamed of yourself ? " he went on, shaking 
 his fist at the prostrate man. "Your red friends 
 have run off and left you, and you have to look to 
 them that's your enemies to give you water, you fag- 
 end of an ill spent life. B-r-r-r ! I can hardly keep 
 my hands off you." 
 
 " You needn't take on that way, Uncle Jack ! " said 
 the wounded man, faintly. 
 
 " Hold on, there ! " was the savage rejoinder. 
 
GILBEKT THE TKAPPER. 47 
 
 " That s what my own boys call me, and I won't lis- 
 ten to no such words from you. You ain't lit to speak 
 to a white man." 
 
 " I know it. I've been powerful bad, an' I'd like 
 to undo some of my meanness before — before " 
 
 " I know it," interrupted the angry cow man ; 
 " but you can't undo none of it. Can you bring back 
 to life all the innocent folks that have been killed 
 during the outbreaks that you and your kind urged 
 the Indians on to ? Can you pick old man Wilson's 
 buildings out of the ashes, and set 'em up where 
 they were when the Utes jumped down on them a 
 week ago last Tuesday ? Then hold your yawp about 
 undoing your meanness." 
 
 "I didn't say that I could do it all," replied the 
 man, in a feeble voice. " But I can straighten out 
 a little of it — right smart of it, too. I can put some- 
 body in the wa}- of findin' a boy he lost years ago. 
 That's something to do, ain't it?" 
 
 " Eh ? " 'cried Uncle Jack, who now began to take 
 some interest in what the renegade was saying. He 
 looked around to see where the soldiers were, and 
 then sat down to the ground close to the wounded 
 man, so that he could hear every word that fell from 
 his lips. Why was it that the handsome face and 
 figure of Gilbert the trapper came before his vision? 
 
 " If you can do that," said Uncle Jack, involun- 
 tarily lowering his voice, which trembled in spite of 
 all his efforts to control it, " you will do much to- 
 ward making a friend of every white man on the 
 reservation." 
 
 " Will you an' your outfit stand by me if I should 
 happen to get over this ? " 
 
 " Why, course," answered Uncle Jack, who could 
 not see any reason why he should need anybody to 
 stand by him as long as he was trying to do a good 
 act. 
 
48 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 " 'Cause thar is tliem that don't want to have the 
 boy give up," continued the renegade. 
 
 "My king !" exclaimed the ranchman, catching up 
 his rifle and looking all around, as if he hoped that 
 the guilty ones would show themselves within range 
 of the weapon. " Who be they, I'd like to know ? " 
 
 " Well, thar's Grizzly Pete for one." 
 
 " Pete Axley ! " cried Uncle Jack, contemptuously. 
 " Say, Bob, what makes you call him Grizzly Pete? 
 I know he wears a necklace of bears' claws, but he 
 never killed the bears himself. He is too much of a 
 coward to face a grizzly. Well, why should Pete 
 want to keep this boy from being given up to them 
 that have a right to him? Who is he, anyhow, and 
 where did Pete first see him ? " 
 
 " Nobody knows who he is," replied the renegade, 
 tenderly moving one of his legs, which had been 
 severely bruised by his fall. " We found him up 
 near Three Buttes when he was a little feller." 
 
 " Aw ! Go on! " exclaimed Uncle Jack. 
 
 " It's the livin' truth, if I ever told it," said the 
 man, earnestly. " If you don't want to b'lieve it, 
 look at that when you get the chance. Thar's some 
 papers in it— or, I should say, a part of two papers; 
 and one of 'em Pete couldn't read. It's Greek or 
 Dutch, or something. So he cut the papers in two, 
 Pete did, an' give me a piece of each, an' he took 
 t'other ones. He done that so't each one of us would 
 have something to show, an' nary one of us could do 
 anything t'wards givin' up the boy without help 
 from the other." 
 
 " I understand," said Uncle Jack. " You were both 
 such rascals, that you were afraid to trust each other. 
 Look here; you and Pete and the Utes robbed a 
 wagon train and stole that boy." 
 
 " Hope to die if we did," answered the renegade, 
 "The Cheyennes jumped at it an' killed all the men 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 49 
 
 that was with it, an' we come up an' drove them off, 
 after fightin' 'em for two days. You know thar 
 wasn't so many posts an' agencies in the country 
 thirteen years ago as thar be now, an' as we didn't 
 want to see the boy killed, me an' Pete thought we 
 would keep him till he growed up; an' then mebbe 
 he could tell us who his folks was, an' whar they 
 lived." 
 
 " That's a likely story," replied Uncle Jack, looking 
 down at the big tin tobacco box which the renegade 
 had placed in his hands. Then he opened it, and 
 saw that it appeared to be filled with strips of buck- 
 skin. " There's nothing here," he added. 
 
 "Yes, thar is," protested the renegade. "The 
 papers that'll tell you who the boy is, an' all about 
 it, are wrapped up in them skins. I know, 'cause 
 they ain't never been out of my hands since I got 
 'em. I've had 'em out of the box a time or two, to 
 see if I couldn't make something out of the writin' 
 that's on 'em, but I never con Id." 
 
 "Well, after you and the Utes drove the Cheyennes 
 away, you went up and robbed the train yourselves, 
 I suppose ? I thought so. Didn't you find anybody 
 with it who could tell you who this boy was and 
 where he belonged ? " 
 
 "Nary livin' soul," was the answer. "Every man 
 of 'em had been rubbed out by the Cheyennes, an' it 
 was their woopin' an' yellin' that brung us up to 
 whar the fight was goin' on." 
 
 " How big was the boy ? Could he talk and tell 
 what his name was ? " 
 
 "He was about three or four years old, but all he 
 could tell me an' Pete, that we could understand, 
 was that one of the men who had been killed by the 
 Cheyennes was his pap." 
 
 " Then how did you think that he was going to tell 
 you his history when he got bigger?" demanded 
 
50 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 Uncle Jack, in a tone of undisguised contempt. 
 " Here you've been and kept him among the Indians 
 all these years, and of course he's forgot everything 
 about himself that he ever knew. You ought to 
 have taken him straight to the nearest post, and I 
 don't see why }^ou didn't do it." 
 
 When Uncle Jack said this, he did not have quite 
 as much regard for the truth as he usually did. He 
 knew very well why the Utes did not give up that 
 boy. They wanted to keep him, and bring him for- 
 ward as an element in their peace negotiations. 
 
 The terms on which discontented Indians are per- 
 mitted to return to their reservations are never very 
 hard when they have in their possession any white 
 captives whom they are willing to deliver up. The 
 officers who conduct these negotiations are so very 
 anxious to release the prisoners from a bondage that 
 is worse than death, that they will agree to almost 
 anything the savages have to propose. As it hap- 
 pened, the Utes did not need the boy, and he was 
 with them yet. At least that was what Uncle Jack 
 thought. 
 
 " You say you found this boy thirteen years ago ? " 
 said the cow man. "Then he must be sixteen or 
 seventeen now, if he was three or four when you first 
 got a grip on him. Don't you think I ought to 
 knock you in the head ? " 
 
 " Well, I'll tell you why we didn't give him up, 
 Uncle " 
 
 " Hold on. Now, I don't want to hear them words 
 out of you again," said Uncle Jack, shaking both his 
 fists at the renegade. 
 
 " I forget ; I do for a fact. I'll tell you why we 
 didn't give him up to the commanding officer of some 
 post, an' I'll be honest with you, too." 
 
 "Yes; you'd better," said the ranchman, fiercely. 
 " We've got some of Turkey Leg's Pawnees with us, 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 51 
 
 and they wouldn't like anything better than to raise 
 that hair of yours." 
 
 " I know it, an' that's the reason I am mighty glad 
 I was found by a white man," said the renegade, anx- 
 iously. " If some of them Pawnees had come up 
 afore you did, ] never would have told you what I 
 ave. 
 
 "And I can't understand why you tell it to me 
 now," said the ranchman. 
 
 " It's cause I thought I was as good as dead, an' I 
 didn't want to go with that thing on my mind ; that's 
 why. I would have given them dokyments to some- 
 body long ago, but Pete swore that he'd be the death 
 of me if I did, an' so I had to hold fast to 'em an' 
 keep my mouth shet. When you read one of them 
 papers, you will see that thar's something in it about 
 a hundred nuggets and a fortin'. He made a cache 
 afore he was killed, the boy's pap did, an' them 
 papers tell whar it is an' what's into it. Pete's made 
 me try to pump the boy a time or two, to see if he re- 
 membered anything about that cache, but all I made 
 out to do w r as to make the boy suspicion something. 
 He knows that he don't b'long here as well as I do, 
 an' so does evervbody down to the lower reserva- 
 tion." 
 
 " What is his name ? " inquired Uncle Jack. 
 
 " Gilbert the trapper*" 
 
52 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE END OF THE CAMPAIGN. 
 
 The last words that fell from the renegade's lips 
 almost took Uncle Jack's breath away, and yet he had 
 all the while been expecting to hear him speak that 
 name before he got through with the story. 
 
 " Gilbert the trapper," repeated the cow man. 
 " That's a mighty slim clew to go on. Wasn't there 
 some name signed to them papers when you got 'em 
 — Smith or Jones or something ? " 
 
 "Yes, thar was, but I disremember it. Pete took 
 the pieces that had the name onto 'em, an' he's got 
 'em now. He ain't never told anybody what that 
 is, an' he says he ain't goin' to." 
 
 '• What for ? " demanded Uncle Jack. " How's the 
 boy to get a clew to his identity, or how are his 
 friends going to find anything about him so long 
 as his name is not known? Pete is acting like a 
 born fool." 
 
 " That's what I think an' what I have said, I 
 don't rightly know jest what notion Pete's got into 
 his head, but between you and I, I kinder suspicion 
 that him an' the trader down to the lower reserva- 
 tion has gone snucks in the business, an' that the 
 trader is trying to study out the Dutch part of them 
 papers, or Greek, or whatever it is. If he succeeds, 
 him an' Pete will look the mountings over till they 
 find that cache, an' they'll dig up the fortin' and skip 
 out, leavin' me to whistle for my shar'." 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPEK. 53 
 
 " Aha ! " exclaimed Uncle Jack. " I thought you 
 had some object in view in giving these papers up to 
 me. You don't want Pete to cheat you out of your 
 share of that fortune, do you? "Well, I don't know 
 that I blame you. But Pete shan't find that cache, 
 'cause I've got half the papers." 
 
 "I know it; but Pete an' the trader have got a 
 copy of 'em. You see " 
 
 " There now ? " exclaimed the ranchman, in a tone 
 of disgust. " If Pete is one fool, you're another. 
 "What did you go and give him a copy of these 
 papers for ? " 
 
 " 'Cause he vowed that he'd ruinate me if I didn't," 
 whined the renegade. "You don't know Grizzly 
 Pete as well as I do. An' the trader's a bad man, 
 too. They will do anything for money, them two 
 will, an' if you're goin' to stand between them an' 
 that fortin', you'd better watch out that they don't 
 pop you over the first good chance they get." 
 
 "I ain't the coward that you be, Buckskin Bob," 
 answered Uncle Jack, calmly. " If they fool with me, 
 I'll make them think they've been struck by light- 
 ning. You think that this boy, Gilbert the trapper, be- 
 longs to the money that's hid in that cache, do you? " 
 
 ' : I know it; 'cause arter Pete had read the paper 
 — the English one I mean — he asked the boy whar 
 the place was that his pap had buried the money, 
 an' he tried his best to show us. He put his little 
 hands in our'n " 
 
 " You — you — varmint ! " ejaculated Uncle Jack, 
 who could not think of any name mean enough to 
 fit the contemptible specimen of humanity that lay 
 groaning and writhing among the rocks before him. 
 "You Digger Indian — you coyote — you — " 
 
 " But in course he couldn't show us whar the cache 
 was," said the renegade, hastily; "'cause he was too 
 little to remember any landmarks. Pete thinks he 
 
54 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 lias forgot all about it, but I don't. Thar's some- 
 thing in the glint of his eye when he looks at me, 
 which tells me that he's got an idee or two stowed 
 away in that head of his'n, an' that he'll tell what 
 that idee is when the right man comes along. Oh, 
 Uncle Jack ! Uncle Jack ! don't let 'em skulp me ! 
 I've got a heap more to tell you. Send 'em away." 
 
 With a mighty effort the wounded renegade raised 
 himself upon his elbow, and pointed with a trembling 
 finger at something behind Uncle Jack. His eyes 
 seemed ready to start from their sockets, and his 
 repulsive features were convulsed with terror. 
 
 The ranchman faced about and saw a couple of 
 Pawnees in their war paint standing near. They 
 grinned at each other, laid their rifles upon the 
 ground and whipped their knives from their sheaths. 
 In an instant Uncle Jack was on his feet. 
 
 " Hold on, there ! " he shouted, drawing back the 
 hammer of his Winchester. "You can't have this 
 fellow's hair, 'cause he ain't dead yet. He ain't a 
 going to die yet, neither, 'cause he's got to live and 
 make amends for the meanest act that a man with a 
 white skin was ever guilty of. You git, or I'll start 
 you for the happy hunting grounds in less'n two 
 seconds." 
 
 " That's the way to talk to 'em, Uncle Jack," said 
 the renegade, who was so nearly overcome with fear 
 that he could scarcely speak the words so that they 
 could be understood. " Send 'em away, Uncle " 
 
 "Hold your yawp! " interrupted the ranchman, in 
 savage tones. " If you call me that again, I'll let 'em 
 onto you. Are you going to be a gitting? Hallo, 
 Rube," be added, addressing himself to one of his 
 cowboys, who, hearing his employer's voice pitched 
 in a high key, came up to see what was the matter 
 with him. " Go and tell Cap'n Brent, that there's a 
 v/ounded man here who wants to be sent back to the 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 55 
 
 post. Tell him, also, that he'll have to put a guard 
 over him, for if he don't " 
 
 Uncle Jack finished the sentence by jerking his 
 thumb over his shoulder toward the two baffled 
 Pawnees, who were scowling fiercely at the speaker. 
 
 Rube took one glance at the wounded renegade's 
 face and then scowled, too. 
 
 "Why don't you let the Injuns alone?" he mut- 
 tered. 
 
 " 'Cause I don't want to, that's why," retorted 
 Uncle Jack. " I want to use him ; and when you 
 know what I want to use him for, you'll say that I 
 do right in keeping the reds away from him. Go on, 
 Rube, and do as I tell you." 
 
 The cowboy walked off, talking to himself in an 
 undertone, but he did not move with a willing step. 
 If he had been the first to find Buckskin Bob— well, 
 he wouldn't have given him a drink of water, as 
 Uncle Jack did. 
 
 " Them white Injuns and the thieving agents and 
 traders are to blame for all our border troubles, and 
 I don't see why old Waldron don't let the Pawnees 
 finish him ; that's what I'd do," said Rube, to him- 
 self ; but he lost no time in hunting up Captain 
 Brent. He delivered his message, and a squad of 
 men was sent to remove the renegade from his 
 hard bed among the rocks, and stand guard over 
 him until he and a few sick men could be sent to 
 Fort Lewis, in company with Uncle Jack's cowboy. 
 
 The two Pawnees slunk away out of sight when 
 the corporal and his soldiers came up, while Uncle 
 Jack put the tin box into his pocket and hurried off 
 to find his place in the skirmish line. 
 
 He looked everywhere for Gilbert the trapper, but 
 that worthy object of his solicitude could not be 
 found. He certainly was not with the command, and 
 no one had seen him go away. He had vanished 
 
56 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 from sight in the same mysterious way that he had 
 first made his appearance between the lines. Just 
 then the bugle sounded, and Uncle Jack mounted 
 his horse with the others, and rode down the canyon 
 in the direction in which the Utes had fled. 
 
 " There's one thing about it," he kept saying to 
 himself. " I know where to find Gilbert when I 
 want him ; but I must first find out what is written 
 on these papers. If it is written in Greek, I've got 
 the inside of the track, because my boys are the only 
 ones in this country that I knoAV of who are posted 
 in that language ; but if it's Dutch, then I'm up a 
 hollow stump. I never heard 'em say a word about 
 studying Dutch at school." 
 
 Although Uncle Jack was impatient to examine the 
 contents of the box that Buckskin Bob had given 
 him, he never took it out of his pocket during the 
 whole of the campaign, which lasted a little over 
 four weeks. During that time he and his com- 
 panions, according to Captain Brent's report, traveled 
 over two hundred miles. They joined their forces 
 with Major Payne's, but they never once came within 
 striking distance of the hostiles. 
 
 The latter were a mountain tribe (some writer has 
 called them the Switzers of America), and being w-ell 
 acquainted with the country, they clung persistently 
 to the most difficult trails, traveled by night as well 
 as by day, and at last threw their pursuers entirely 
 off their track, and made their way back to their res- 
 ervation. When they got there they w r ere safe, as I 
 shall presently explain. 
 
 Heartily disgusted wdth the results of their long 
 and arduous campaign, the ranchmen separated at 
 the lower agency and turned their faces toward their 
 respective homes, Uncle Jack and his cowboys, with 
 Mr. Wilson and his cowboys, stopping at Fort Lewis 
 long enough to pick up the four youngsters. 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 57 
 
 The meeting between Mr. Wilson and his boys was 
 so affecting that the herdsmen did not care to wit- 
 ness it, and even Gus and Jerry Warren somewhat 
 abated the ardor of the greeting they extended to 
 their uncle. They were overjoyed to see him again, 
 safe and sound, and not a little disappointed when 
 the old fellow declared that he had not another word 
 to tell them. 
 
 "But you haven't told us anything yet," exclaimed 
 Gus. " You haven't said a word about the fight, and 
 we know you had one, because some of Captain 
 Brent's sick men were sent back to the post, and they 
 told us so." 
 
 " Did they tell you about that cowboy of ours who 
 was wounded and sent home at the same time ? " said 
 Uncle Jack. " Then you know as much about the 
 fight as I do," 
 
 '•Who was that brave young fellow who saved 
 the cowboy's life at the risk of his own ?" inquired 
 Jerry. 
 
 " You tell. I never saw or heard of him before." 
 "The soldiers didn't know him either ; and yet 
 they say he belongs on this reservation. Say, uncle, 
 is it a fact that those Utes will never be punished for 
 burning Mr. Wilson's house ? " 
 
 " It is a fact," said the owner of that name, who 
 happened to overhear the question, " and a most dis- 
 graceful fact, too. If one of those TJtes had toma- 
 hawked and scalped my boys before my eyes, and I 
 had been able to point him out to the agent, he 
 wouldn't have said a word to him ; but let me or any 
 other white man lift a finger against one of those 
 Indians, and that same agent would hunt the coun- 
 try over to find me." 
 
 "Why that isn't right," said Gus and Jerry in a 
 
 breath. 
 
 "But it's the law we have here on the plains, 
 
68 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 whether it's right or not," replied Mr. Wilson with 
 suppressed fury. " The agent cares more for an 
 Indian than he does for a white man, because there 
 is money in him. Our whole Indian business is a 
 cheat and a swindle, from beginning to end. These 
 Utes are too sharp to commit any crime on their re- 
 servation, because they know that they would be 
 punished for it; but they can break away and do all 
 the damage they please, and there is no one to take 
 any notice of it, except those who suffer at their 
 hands. I say such a government as ours ought not 
 to stand a day longer. I'd be glad to see it go dow r n 
 this minute." 
 
 Mr. Wilson did not mean this, of course, for he 
 was as loyal as any man on the frontier; but Uncle 
 Jack saw that he was getting angry, so he turned the 
 conversation into another channel by asking Gus 
 how he had enjoyed himself during his forced so- 
 journ at the fort. 
 
 " I don't think I should like to be a second lieu- 
 tenant in the army," was the boy's reply. " Life at 
 an Indian post is awful slow, according to my way 
 of looking at it, and some of the j r oung officers them- 
 selves say that they are sick of it. Of course they 
 can fish and hunt when they are off duty, but one 
 soon gets tired of fishing and hunting. A cowbo} r 
 leads a harder life than a lieutenant of infantry, 
 but then he has something to occup3 r his mind." 
 
 Uncle Jack said that was ajjout the way he looked 
 at it. 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 59 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE MYSTERIOUS DOCUMENTS. 
 
 Gus and Jerry Warren had passed a weary month 
 at the fort. Although they received some cheering 
 message from Uncle Jack as often as a courier came 
 in, they could not help worrying over his prolonged 
 absence. To make matters worse, the colonel com- 
 manding the force was informed that the Indians on 
 ihe lower reservation had broken away and set out 
 for the mountains to join the hostiles, and some of 
 the timid ones took this as an indication that there 
 was going to be an open war, sure enough. 
 
 " But I don't think so, and I don't believe that 
 the colonel does, either," said one of the young lieu- 
 tenants, who had taken Gus and Jerry under his 
 special protection. " Payne and Brent are both old 
 Indian fighters, and if they can join forces they will 
 press the hostiles so closely that they will not have 
 time to send out detached parties to pillage the de- 
 fenseless ranches that lie along their line of flight. 
 Another thing, winter is coming on apace, and the 
 Utes will not care to stay in the mountains till the 
 snow comes and block the canyons and shut them up 
 there. They prefer their weather proof tepees and 
 the flesh pots of the agency, to a brush ' wicky up' 
 and an empty larder among the storm swept foot 
 hills. An Indian is very sensitive to cold, and he 
 would not show his nose outside his wigwam in 
 
60 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 winter if there was any possible way for him to 
 avoid it." 
 
 As if to show the young officer that he was mis- 
 taken when he made these confident predictions, a 
 lieutenant arrived the very next day bringing full 
 details of Captain Brent's fight in the canyon, and 
 some other news that struck terror to the hearts of 
 the city boys. Uncle Jack's wounded cowboy had 
 died on the way home, and the soldiers had buried 
 him in the mountains. The men around them did 
 not seem to think much of it. They simply said: 
 "Poor Aleck!" and then forgot all about him; but 
 that was not the case with Gus and Jerry. To them 
 there was something horrifying in the reflection that 
 the man in whose company they had ridden, hunted 
 and fished, and who had more than once slept under 
 the same blanket with them, had been stricken 
 down by an Indian's bullet. 
 
 " Well, what else could he expect ? " said Lieuten- 
 ant Forrest, their friend and mentor. " He took his 
 chances with the rest, and somebody generally gets 
 hurt in a fight. Besides, he had no business to 
 march so far ahead of the Pawnees, after he had been 
 told that it was dangerous to do so. But that's al- 
 ways the way with these cowboys. They are good 
 in a fight, but they don't obey orders worth a cent." 
 
 " Uncle Jack will be sorry when he hears of it," 
 said Gus. " He thought a good deal of Aleck. He 
 expected to leave Uncie Jack's employ at the end of 
 the year and set up for himself ; and uncle was help- 
 ing him in every way he could." 
 
 " Of course he'll be sorry ; so am I," said Forrest. 
 "But we don't worry over things that we can't help. 
 Just think what would have happened to him after 
 dark, if that young fellow in buckskin hadn't crawled 
 up between the lines and carried him to a place of 
 safety ! " 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 61 
 
 " What would have happened to him ? " inquired 
 Jerry, 
 
 " Why, the Utes would have been down after his 
 scalp, and they wouldn't have troubled themselves to 
 see whether he was dead or not before they took it 
 off." 
 
 "Don't, don't! " exclaimed Gus. "It's too awful 
 to think of." 
 
 " Well, that's the way they do, anyhow," said For- 
 rest, doggedly. "But I won't talk about it any 
 more. I've seen the chap who saved Aleck's scalp, 
 and I tell you he's a picture — smarter than a whip, 
 and talks like a magazine article. You ought to see 
 him ride and shoot." 
 
 "Who is he?" asked Gus. 
 
 " Nobody knows for certain ; but there's a story 
 floating around that he's the only one left of a wagon 
 train tliat the Utes destroyed years ago. He lives 
 among the Indians, but he is as white as you or I. 
 Grizzly Pete, who is one of the meanest squaw men 
 on the reservation, says that the boy is his son ; but 
 he can't make any one believe it. Gilbert isn't a 
 renegade either. He has been in more than a dozen 
 fights, and he always sides with us. He saved the 
 Durango stage from being held up about a year 
 ago." 
 
 " Held up ? " said Jerry, inquiringly. 
 
 "Yes ; robbed, you know. If you will remind me 
 of it, I will tell you the story the next time I can get 
 a day off." 
 
 After that the only news the couriers brought to 
 the post was that Major Payne and Captain Brent, 
 having united their forces, were hotly pursuing the 
 Utes, who were evidently making the best of their 
 way to their reservation. No one seemed to know 
 when they got there, so quietly did they disperse and 
 mingle with their friends. 
 
62 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 And that was the last of it. There was no recom- 
 pense of any sort for the man whose property had 
 been wantonly destroyed and whose little boys were 
 at first thought to have been carried into captivity, 
 and no one to drop a tear upon the lonely grave of 
 the murdered cowboy. 
 
 "Til tell you what's a fact, Jerry," said Gus ; "I 
 don't blame these men for hating the Indians so cor- 
 dially. I don't see how they can endure the sight 
 of one," 
 
 A day or two after this the boys were surprised to 
 see Mr. Wilson and Uncle Jack ride into the fort. 
 Their appearance was the first positive indication 
 they had received that the campaign was at an end. 
 They knew that the Indians were coming back, and 
 that was all. 
 
 After thanking the officers for the care the} 7 had 
 taken of their boys during their absence, the ranch- 
 men and their cowboys turned their faces homeward. 
 Mr. Wilson accepted Uncle Jack's hospitality for the 
 night, but bright and early the next morning he and 
 his two sons set out for their own range. It was a 
 dreary place they were going to, with no roof to 
 shelter them, and no one but rough cowboys to ex- 
 tend a welcome to them, but they did not seem to 
 mind it very much. 
 
 " I don't think I could ever go back there if the 
 Utes had taken my boys away from me," said Mr. 
 Wilson as he shook Uncle Jack's hand at parting. 
 " I haven't lost much besides my buildings, and if 
 the snows will delay their coming just one month, 
 thej 7 will find me with a tight shanty over my 'bead 
 and grub enough in the cupboard to feed you and 
 your nephews as often as you can make it convenient 
 to pay me a visit. Good by, and may it be long be- 
 fore these thieving rascals come your way." 
 
 " That's what a fellow gets lor being a cow man," 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 63 
 
 said Uncle Jack, as his friend rode away. "But 
 Wilson won't take warning by it. He would keep 
 right along just the same, even if he knew that the 
 Utes make a business of raiding him every year. I 
 don't know how it is with you two," he added, clos- 
 ing the door and drawing his big rocking chair up 
 in front of the huge fireplace, " but I am glad to get 
 home. I have seen the time when I took positive de- 
 light in a scout after hostilities, but I was younger 
 then than I am now. I ain't quite as peart and live- 
 ly as I used to be, and twenty eight days at a stretch 
 in the saddle pretty nigh uses me up. So poor 
 Aleck is gone where we shall have to go some day." 
 
 " But we don't want to go that way," said Jerry, 
 with a shudder. 
 
 "Well, no ; but that's something in which we shall 
 not be consulted when our time comes. We'd rather 
 go quicker." 
 
 " Think how he must have suffered, in mind as 
 well as in body while he lay there behind that rock, 
 expecting every minute that the Utes would be down 
 to complete their work " added Jerry. 
 
 " And think how Uncle Jack and the rest must 
 have felt to see him lying in plain sight, wdiile they 
 were powerless to help him," chimed in Gkis. "I tell 
 you that would have tried my courage most severely, 
 and I am glad I wasn't there to see it. I can't un- 
 derstand how that young fellow in buckskin could 
 help him when you couldn't." 
 
 " I can explain it to you in a few words," replied 
 Uncle Jack. " Between our line and the foot of the 
 hill there was a space about one hundred and fifty 
 yards in width, where there wasn't the least sign of 
 cover of any sort. The swiftest runner among us 
 couldn't have got across it without being hit. When 
 that young scout, who came from Payne's command, 
 slipped by the hill he was two hundred yards closer 
 
64 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 to the Utes than we were, and right in among- the 
 bowlders that afforded him the best kind of shelter. 
 See ? But it was a brave act on his part all the 
 same. Aleck deserved to have his life when that 
 scout worked so hard for it. Say, Gus, can you read 
 Greek or Dutch ? " 
 
 The boys were so surprised at this sudden change 
 of subject that they looked at their uncle without 
 speaking. 
 
 " Oh, I mean it," said the latter, putting his hand 
 into his pocket and pulling out the tobacco box 
 that Buckskin Bob had given him. "Can you read 
 em i 
 
 Gus replied that he could not, adding that there 
 was not the least similarity between the two lan- 
 guages. 
 
 " Don't you study Greek at school ? " 
 
 " Of course I do ; but that's no sign that I can cor- 
 rectly translate any sentence you can give me, is it ? 
 I tell you it takes a scholar to do that, and I am only 
 a student. What have you got there ? " 
 
 " Nothing that is likely to do anybody any good," 
 replied Uncle Jack, who was plainly very much dis- 
 appointed. " When he gave it to me and told me, 
 that neither he nor anybody else could read it 
 because " 
 
 " When who gave it to you ? " interrupted Jerry. 
 
 " Because it was Greek or Dutch or something, I 
 was quick enough to take it, for I was sure you could 
 help me out with it," said Uncle Jack, paying no 
 attention to his nephew's question. "You study 
 Greek at school, you say ? Well, you are wasting 
 3'our time fooling with a thing you can't remember. 
 But there's just this much about it: I'll block Pete 
 Axley's little game, I bet you." 
 
 " Who is Pete Axley, and what game is he up to ? " 
 asked both the boys. 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 65 
 
 Uncle Jack shook Lis head, and began slowly and 
 carefully unrolling the several pieces of buckskin in 
 which the renegade had inclosed the precious 
 papers that had so long found a hiding place in his 
 dirty haversack. 
 
 Gus and Jerry watched him curiously, but he was 
 so very deliberate about his work, that they finally 
 found it impossible to restrain themselves any longer; 
 so they tried to hurry him up. 
 
 " Why don't you tell us what you've got there ? " 
 said Gus. "If it is anything with writing on it, you 
 may be sure that the characters are obliterated by 
 this time. Those pieces of buckskin look as though 
 they had not been unrolled since the year one." 
 
 That was true; but like some other misty things, 
 they contained a valuable secret. 
 
66 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE LETTER FROM SWEETWATER CANYON. 
 
 "They're wrapped up mighty careful, aint they?" 
 said Uncle Jack, when he was ready to speak. " I 
 hope when I get to the inside I shall find two papers 
 there. They were written thirteen years ago, and I 
 don't suppose that we could make head or tail of 
 'em, even if they were both written in English ; for, 
 as you say, the characters must be almost obliterated 
 by this time. They were written in the midst of a 
 fight by a man who had a little boy and lots of 
 money with him — at least that was what Buckskin 
 Bob told me. He's the wounded renegade whom the 
 soldiers brought back to the fort, you know. Well, 
 sir, here they are, sure's you're born. Now, if one 
 part of that villain's story is true, maybe it will turn 
 out that the whole of it is." 
 
 As Uncle Jack said this, he took off the last roll of 
 buckskin and brought to light two pieces of wrinkled 
 and soiled note paper, which looked as though they 
 were almost ready to fall into fragments. He 
 • smoothed them out very carefully and was delighted 
 to see that the writing could be readily deciphered. 
 The ink was almost as bright as it was on the day it 
 was spread upon the paper. 
 
 Uncle Jack was not an excitable man, but he 
 looked like one just now. He hoped and believed 
 that he was on the eve of an important discovery. 
 
GILBEKT THE TRAPPER. 67 
 
 He took a hasty glance at the papers and then passed 
 them over to Gus. 
 
 " You read 'em," said he, as he settled himself in 
 his comfortable chair. " Your eyes are younger than 
 mine. Read the English one first." 
 
 " How provoking ! " exclaimed Jerry, who was 
 looking over his brother's shoulder. " There's only 
 half of it here. Of course it breaks off in the most 
 interesting part, just like the stories in the papers." 
 
 " Of course," said Uncle Jack, with suppressed im- 
 patience. "But then I knew it wasn't all there, 
 for Buckskin Bob told me so. Bead what there is of 
 it, Gus." 
 
 After tenderly smoothing one of the papers on his 
 knee, and getting all the wrinkles he could out of it, 
 Gus began. 
 
 "Sweetwa — That's all there is of that word," said 
 he. "The rest is cut off." 
 
 "It means Sweetwater Canyon, probably," said 
 the ranchman. " Is there any date to it ? "Well, go 
 ahead." 
 
 Gus complied, and read as follows : 
 
 " I started from the miues six 
 my little boy, Gilbert Hubbard Nev 
 thought to bo my friends, to cross 
 My wife died almost a year ago, an 
 my friends any longer. I live in 
 hard, and saved nearly a hundred 
 and nuggets, and brought it witn 
 started I have grown suspicious 
 are none too good to knock me on 
 possession of my hard earned treas 
 I shall never see the States alive 
 worked upon me of late, that I dec 
 and have done so tonight while 
 companions being asleep. If I fal 
 sociates, the inclosed cryptogram 
 whoso possession it may fall, if 
 where my wealth may be found. I 
 into the hands of some honest man 
 boy gets his rights." 
 
 " That is all," said Gus, while an expression of an- 
 
68 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 noyance and disappointment settled on his face. 
 " Who cut this paper in two ? Has anybody got the 
 rest of it?" 
 
 " Pete Axley, Buckskin Bob's partner, did it," an- 
 swered Uncle Jack, " and he's got the rest. It doesn't 
 say anything about a fight them miners had with the 
 Cheyennes, does it ? " 
 
 "Not a word," replied Gus, looking at the paper on 
 both sides. " Not a single, solitary word." 
 
 "Then that's one flaw in Bob's story," said Uncle 
 Jack, reflectively. " He tried hard to make me think 
 he was telling me the truth, but I was suspicious of 
 him all the time. Well, he gave me a clew to some- 
 thing, 'cause he thought he was going to die, and I 
 shall not rest easy till I know the whole secret. What 
 idea do you get from reading that, boys? " 
 
 " Why, it is plain enough to me that the one who 
 wrote it was afraid his companions would kill him 
 to get possession of his money, or dust or nuggets, 
 or whatever it was, and that he hoped this note 
 would fall into the hands of some honest man so that 
 his boy would get his rights," said Gus. 
 
 "That's my way of looking at it, too," said the 
 ranchman. " But that's where that miner was dis- 
 appointed. The letter fell into the hands of one who 
 never was known to do an honest act since he has 
 been on the reservation." 
 
 " Didn't I say that the letter would break off in 
 the most interesting part?" chimed in Jerry. "If 
 we only had the other half, we could tell where the 
 writer lived when he was at home. As it is, we are 
 at our wits' end." 
 
 " I know that we've a hard task before us, but we 
 can go through with it," said Uncle Jack. "That 
 boy has been kept out of his rights long enough, 
 and now they must be restored to him. You hear 
 me ? " 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 69 
 
 "But how are you going to give him his rights 
 when you don't know where to find him ? "We don't 
 even know what his name is. There's only part of 
 it here— Gilbert Hubbard Nev— Jerry, what word 
 begins with Nev?" 
 
 The latter looked bewildered, ran his eyes around 
 the room as if he hoped to see something in it that 
 would suggest an idea to him, and finally answered : 
 
 " Never — Never sink." 
 
 " Ah, pshaw ! " exclaimed Gus. " I want a surname. 
 Pete Axley was sharp enough to keep the parts that 
 had the names on them, and it is my opinion that if 
 we could put our hands into his haversack we should 
 bring out something that would astonish everybody. 
 It looks to me as if those two scoundrels, Axley and 
 Buckskin Bob, have laid their plans to hunt that 
 money up and keep it." 
 
 "That's the way it looks to me, too," said Uncle 
 Jack. 
 
 "Well, then, why haven't they been about it? 
 Thirteen years is a long time to waste on doing no- 
 thing, when there is a fortune to be had for the 
 taking." 
 
 "But, you see they don't know where that fortune 
 is concealed," said the ranchman. " The Dutch 
 part of the business bothered 'em, just as I am afraid 
 it is going to bother you." 
 
 " This other paper isn't written in Dutch," said 
 Gus, with a laugh. "Doesn't the miner himself 
 speak of it as a cryptogram? That means anything 
 that is written in secret characters. This one is 
 founded on the alphabet, and consequently it can be 
 solved by anybody who has the patience to stick to 
 it long enough." 
 
 " Do you mean to say that you can work it out? " 
 exclaimed Uncle Jack in delighted accents. 
 
 " I have not the least doubt of it; but it will take 
 
70 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 time. It is about the worst looking cipher I evei 
 saw, but I will take a copy of it, and see what I can 
 do. Of course, I can't get at the full secret of the 
 matter, because there's only half the paper here." 
 
 " Well, you read what you've got, and I'll see that 
 you get the rest," said Uncle Jack; and the boys 
 noticed that he set his lips firmly together. 
 
 " Why, look here," cried Jerry, as if the idea had 
 just occurred to him. "The soldiers said that the 
 fellow who worked so hard to save Aleck's life, called 
 himself Gilbert, and who knows but he may be that 
 miner's little boy ? " 
 
 " It's the strangest thing in the world that I didn't 
 think of that myself," exclaimed Gus. " I'll bet they 
 are one and the same," he added, after lie had taken 
 another look at his relative's face. 
 
 "It has been as plain as daylight to me from the 
 very first," answered the latter*; " and I wonder that 
 you were so long in finding it out." 
 
 " Did you speak to the scout in buckskin after the 
 fight in the canyon ? " inquired Jerry. " Did he tell 
 you his history? " 
 
 "Never spoke a word to him in my life; and after 
 the fight no one had a chance to speak to him, for he 
 skipped out, and we never saw him afterward. What 
 I know about hi in I heard from scout Eobinson, and 
 from Buckskin Bob." 
 
 The ranchman then went on to tell of the many 
 remarkable things that had been brought about by 
 his long shot at the squaw man, who had taunted him 
 and his companions with cowardice, because they 
 would not expose themselves to certain death in the 
 effort to rescue the wounded cowboy. When he was 
 fairly started, he found that there were^ several in- 
 teresting incidents to describe; so many, in fact, that 
 the day was far spent before he got through with 
 his story. 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 71 
 
 CHAPTEE XI. 
 
 TRACING THE MYSTERY. 
 
 When Gus Warren retired to his room that night, 
 he pulled out his copy of the cryptogram, and gaYe 
 it a good looking over. 
 
 "It is no wonder that Buckskin Bob thought it 
 was Dutch," was his mental reflection. 
 
 Gus brought out his pencil and paper, and in less 
 than an hour he had found the key — not by accident, 
 but by downright hard work. You can And it in the 
 same * length of time, and in the same way if you 
 choose to set about it. Here is his copy of the cryp- 
 togram : 
 
 Az ftq xqrf tmzp eupq ar ftq 
 xqmzuzs eodgn amw 1'dqq mf qzfdmzo 
 rqqf uqxai egdrmoq. Dqyahq xqmhqe 
 ar kqmde ar faux iuxx nq dqhqmxqp. 
 kag ; uf nqxazse fa tuy. 
 
 Gus wrote out his translation, and tumbled into 
 bed with a light heart. If his uncle would only 
 manage to get the rest of the paper for him, he was 
 sure he could tell where Gilbert's money was hidden. 
 
 The next -morning when Gus and Jerry joined 
 Uncle Jack at the breakfast table, the former handed 
 out his copy of the cryptogram, together with his 
 translation of it, while' his brother stood upon the 
 hearth and "hugged the fire." 
 
 " I told you that I couldn't go to the bottom of 
 the matter, because we've got only half the paper," 
 
72 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 said Gus. With the exception of the last word 
 in the second line, the words are all there ; that is 
 to Bay, there are none of them cut in two, as they 
 were in the letter. According to my way of looking 
 at it, there is one letter of that word gone, and that 
 is 'q.' If I am right the word is ' entrance.' " 
 
 "Now, this bangs me," exclaimed Uncle Jack. 
 "How in the world did you manage it?" 
 
 Without waiting for a reply he turned his attention 
 to the translation, and read as follows: 
 
 " On the left hand side of the— leaning scrub oak tree at en- 
 tranc -feet below surface. Remove leaves— of years of toil will 
 be revealed— you ; it belougs to him." 
 
 Uncle Jack could hardly believe his eyes. It was 
 certain that Gus had made sense out of something 
 that was altogether too deep for him, and he could 
 only say that it banged him, and asked how his ne- 
 phew had managed it. 
 
 " I did as second rate carpenters do when they want 
 to fit a rafter," replied Gus. "I 'cut and tried.' I 
 first wrote all the letters of the alphabet under one 
 another, from A to Z. Then I placed first one letter 
 and then another opposite to them until I made them 
 spell something. At last I found that by beginning 
 with the fifteenth letter and writing the alphabet all 
 over again, placing a opposite o, b opposite p, c op- 
 posite q, and so on, I could make sense out of the 
 cryptogram. There's the key," he added, handing- 
 over a third paper ; " don't lose it, for I may need it 
 when you get the rest of the cryptogram. That is 
 what troubles me now 7 . If Pete Axley has it, he may 
 not want to give it up on demand. " 
 
 " I don't reckon he will," answered Uncle Jack. " If 
 he's willing, it ain't at all likely that the trader will 
 be." 
 
 " The trader ? " repeated Gus. 
 
 " Yes ; the one who cheats the Indians at the lower 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 73 
 
 agency. Didn't I tell you that Pete had taken him 
 into his confidence, in the hope that he would be able 
 to read the strange writing that you have worked out 
 with so little trouble ?" 
 
 " Worse and worse ! " exclaimed Gus. "We have got 
 a job on our hands, that's a fact. No, you didn't tell 
 me that. How long have Pete and the trader been 
 partners in this business ?" 
 
 " I don't believe Buckskin Bob told me that," re- 
 plied Uncle Jack. " All I know is, that the trader is, or 
 has been, working at this cryptogram, as you call it, 
 and that he and Pete intend to divide the money, 
 when they get it." 
 
 " I wonder if the trader has ever had any exper- 
 ience in solving cryptograms of this sort," said Jerry, 
 from his place in front of the fire. 
 
 " Now, that's an idea," said Gus. "If this is the 
 first one he ever tackled, he'll not make anything out 
 of it; lean tell him that much. How long has he 
 been working on it ? " 
 
 Uncle Jack was obliged to confess that he could 
 not answer either one of these questions. He knew 
 that the trader had a copy of the strange writing, that 
 Pete Axley had the original, and that was all he did 
 know. 
 
 " Isn't there any law in this country to compel 
 that squaw man to surrender things that do not be- 
 long to him ? " inquired Jerry. 
 
 " Oh, yes; there's law enough, " replied Uncle Jack. 
 "I can walk up to him and tell him that if he don't 
 hand out them papers before I wink twice, I will send 
 him to the happy land ; but you see " 
 
 "I don't mean that kind of law," interrupted Gus. 
 " I mean such law as that which is recognized 
 among civilized people." 
 
 "No; I don't reckon that there's any of that sort 
 that will touch him," said the ranchman. " And I 
 
74 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 don't say that my* way would have the desired effect 
 either. I don't know that Pete carries his part of the 
 papers around in his haversack, as Buckskin Bob 
 did. He may have 'em hidden somewhere; and if he 
 found out that we wanted them, he would keep 
 'em hidden. The only wa} T to get. hold of 'em is 
 by strategy. Gus, s'pose you make out a copy of 
 the cryptogram for me ; the Dutch part of it, I 
 mean." 
 
 " I will, as soon as I finish my breakfast; but what 
 are you going to do with it ?" 
 
 " I don't know that I shall do anything with it," 
 answered Uncle Jack, who had not had time to ponder 
 upon the plan that had suddenly come into his mind. 
 "I've got an idea that it maybe sorter handy for 
 me to have it in my pocket. Jerry, you'd better be 
 paying some attention to them pancakes before they 
 get cold. And that reminds me of something that I 
 want to say to you boys. We're going to have a bliz- 
 zard in a day or two, and you don't want to get 
 caught out in it. If you are, good by to all your 
 hopes of ever seeing home again." 
 
 Instead of coming to the table, Jerry walked over 
 to the window and looked out. It is true that the 
 weather was cold, but it was bracing, the sun was 
 shining brightly, and there was not a single cloud in 
 the sky. But his uncle's last words made him tremble. 
 He and Gus had already had convincing proof that 
 the " atmospheric phenomena of the plains are on the 
 most stupendous scale." During the month of July 
 they had witnessed a wind storm which was so terrific 
 that it made even the experienced inmates of the 
 ranch look a trifle anxious. For fury and destruc- 
 tiveness it far exceeded anything it had ever been their 
 luck to see. The hailstones, some of which were five 
 or six inches in circumference, and ragged, shapeless 
 masses of .ice, did great damage, splitting the boards 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 75 
 
 on the roof, breaking down fences and killing wild 
 birds and domestic fowls by scores. Uncle Jack lost 
 more than a hundred calves that were killed by these 
 stones. 
 
 After the storm was over, one of the herdsmen came 
 in bleeding from more than a dozen wounds. He 
 related that the storm came upon him with a sudden- 
 ness and rapidity that were startling. 
 
 Instead of trying to run away from it, as a tender- 
 foot would have done, and thereby putting himself in 
 the way of certain destruction, he turned his horse 
 loose, sat down under a bush and covered his head 
 with his saddle, which in some measure protected him. 
 But his hands and one of his legs, which he incau- 
 tiously exposed, were severely cut, and in several 
 places the leather was knocked off the saddle by the 
 frozen missiles. 
 
 " Oh, this ain't nothing," said the cowboy, when Gus 
 insisted that he should have his cuts bandaged. 
 " What I'm worrying about is my horse. Of course 
 the pelting of the stones made him so frantic that he 
 wouldn't think of running for cover, and if he wasn't 
 killed, he may have run fifty miles awa}\ My chances 
 of seeing him again are mighty slim." 
 
 " I have heard of stock being stampeded, but I 
 never thought they covered as much ground as that," 
 said Gus. 
 
 " Well, it depends on what kind of stock it is," re- 
 plied the cowboy. " If they drop dead, of course they 
 can't run any further ; but if they've the endurance 
 to stand up under it, they'll run a hundred miles 
 before they stop." 
 
 Jerry thought of all these things while he stood at 
 the window making observations of the weather, and 
 then he drew a chair to the table and devoted himself 
 to the pancakes. 
 
 " I have some curiosity to see a blizzard," said 
 
76 GILBEET THE TRAPPER. 
 
 he, at length, " but I hope none of our people will 
 be so unfortunate as to be caught out in it. What's 
 it like, uncle ?" 
 
 " Well, " said the latter, slowly, " I '11 say to you 
 as the old Quaker said to his son, when the boy asked 
 him what a toothache was like : ' When thee has had 
 a little experience with it, then thee'll know.' You 
 will know all about a blizzard in less than a week." 
 
 Uncle Jack did not suspect how close he was shoot- 
 ing to the mark when he said this. What he meant 
 was, that his nephews would see the storm through 
 the window, without feeling any of the effects of it; 
 but they didn't. They were much closer to it; in fact, 
 they were out in it. 
 
 " You boys thought that the hailstorm we had 
 last summer was as terrific a convulsion of nature as 
 you cared to look at, " continued Uncle Jack. " Well, 
 it was pretty rough, and you saw the damage it 
 did, but an ordinary blizzard beats it all hollow. 
 It will come upon you out of a clear sky on a 
 warm day like this, and when you get up in the 
 morning, you will find the mercury frozen solid in 
 the bulb of the thermometer." 
 
 " Forty degrees below zero ? " exclaimed Jerry. 
 " Does it ever get as cold as that out here ? " 
 
 " I reckon. The wind blows as it blows nowhere 
 else on earth, and it seems to drive every particle of 
 heat out of you. The air is filled with ice — not snow, 
 mind you, but sharp ice; and you run the risk of 
 losing your eyesight if you attempt to face it. Dur- 
 ing the first winter I spent here, two of my best men 
 got lost in a blizzard, and froze to death in less than a 
 hundred yards of the room in which we are now sit- 
 ting. That same winter the post surgeon at Fort 
 Lewis performed more than two hundred capita] op- 
 erations on buffalo hunters and railroad men who 
 were caught out in some of the storms." 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 77 
 
 « And is that the kind of a thing that is threatening 
 us now ?" said Gus. " I should think you w< >uld take 
 some steps looking to the protection of your cat- 
 tle " 
 
 ' "Sho!" exclaimed Uncle Jack. "Well, I took 
 some steps this morning, long before you thought of 
 crawling out of your beds, and I am going out directly 
 to help the boys round up the stock and drive it to- 
 ward the foothills. If I get em into the timber before 
 the storm breaks, they will be all right; but it it 
 catches them on the open plain they 11 put out^and 
 that will be the last I'll see of the most of them. 
 
 So saving, Uncle Jack pushed back the chair and 
 made ready to go out and help his men round up the 
 
 eattle 
 
 « Why can't we go with you ? " inquired Jerry. 
 " It's ffoine to be awful slow staying around the house 
 two or three days, doing nothing, and we have learned 
 a good deal about rounding up." 
 
 « I know you have, but not enough for me to trust 
 
 vou in tins instance, "was the reply. " inheres a 
 
 thing on top the ground that is mighty easy stampeded 
 
 it is°a steer, when you are trying to make him do 
 
 something he don't want to do. He will get irightened 
 
 at dust nothing at all, audit tabs the best kind of 
 
 handling to make him stay anywhere. Some other 
 
 time I shall call upon you to help me round up ; but 
 
 today I shall have to leave you behind. It you get 
 
 tired of staving around the house saddle up and go 
 
 somewhere else. There ain't any Indians to bother 
 
 you now, and if vou don't let the blizzard catch you, 
 
 you will be all right Well, good by; I must be 
 
 '°Uncle Jack mounted his horse and rode away, and 
 the boys went into the office, where Gus sat down to 
 write a letter to his mother, telling of their uncle s 
 safe return from his scout after the hostiles, while 
 
78 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 Jerry tried to find amusement in an old magazine 
 which he had read so often that he knew some por- 
 tions of it by heart. 
 
 They passed the time in this way until Sam called 
 them to lunch; and when that was over, they saddled 
 their ponies and set out for a short ride. 
 
GFS AND JERRY WARREN IN A SAND STORM. 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 79 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE SAND STORM. 
 
 It was just the day for a brisk gallop ; or, at least, 
 that was what the boys told each other when they 
 drew rein for a short rest on the summit of a high 
 swell about five miles from Uncle Jack's ranch. The 
 air was still cold enough to be bracing, but there was 
 something peculiar about the wind, which the boys 
 noticed as soon as they brought their horses to a stand 
 still. It was so warm that it was almost oppressive. 
 
 " It feels as if it came off a blast furnace, doesn't 
 it?" said Jerry. "I wonder if it is one of the signs 
 of an approaching blizzard !" 
 
 "I never heard of that," replied Gus, " but if we 
 were in Texas, I should say that we were going to 
 have a norther. I have read that they sometimes 
 begin with a warm wind, which without an instant's 
 warning, changes to one of icy coldness. The mercury 
 has been known to fall sixty degrees in less than five 
 minutes; and, what looks very strange to me, the sad- 
 den change in the temperature was never known to 
 produce any bad effects upon those who lnrppened to 
 be caught out. But I don't suppose that they have 
 any northers up here." 
 
 "I should think it would be hard work to follow a 
 trail over such ground as this," observed Jerry, chang- 
 ing the subject, "and harder still for so many herds 
 of cattle to find pasture here. There doesn't seem to 
 be any soil for the grass to grow in. It is all dust, 
 and two or three inches deep at that." 
 
80 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 " It isn't dust," answered Ghis; " it is sand. I won- 
 der if it is a part of the Great American Desert that 
 the old geographies tell about. I wish it wouldn't 
 fly around quite so much," he added, pulling out 
 his handkerchief and wiping his eyes with it. " If I 
 am as dirty as you are, I am a pretty dirty fellow." 
 
 " Well, you are ; every bit," said Jerry. "You 
 look as though you had been making a summer jour- 
 ney on a railroad train." 
 
 While the boys were talking, they noticed, on the 
 plain below them, several little whirlwinds of sand 
 and loose grass scudding along before the breeze, 
 like those that are sometimes seen on a dusty street. 
 
 And these little whirlwinds kept company with 
 them, as they galloped across the intervening lowland 
 to another hill, two miles farther on, to see if they 
 could catch a glimpse of any of the cowboys. 
 
 " Let's get out of this," said Gus, holding his bent 
 forearm and looking under it in the hope of discov- 
 ering some of his uncle's herdsmen. " There's no one 
 in sight, so we might as well start for home before 
 this dust gets thick enough to choke us. Why, Jerry, 
 one of those stones left a mark on your cheek ! " 
 
 " Say," gasped the latter, who was already so nearly 
 choked that lie could hardly catch his breath long 
 enough to speak. " Didn't it ever occur to you that 
 this may be a saad storm ? " 
 
 This simple question almost frightened Gus out of 
 his wits. He had never thought of such a thing before, 
 but he thought of it now. 
 
 He remembered that his uncle had once given him 
 and his brother a lengthy description of these storms, 
 which are exceedingly disagreeable, but very rare, 
 owing to the fact that it takes a peculiar kind of wind 
 to raise one. It is not necessary that it should blow 
 very strong, but that it should have an inclination to 
 the surface. Such a wind tills tlie air so full of loose 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 81 
 
 grass, sand, dust and small stones, and drives them 
 along with such fury, that it is impossible to see 
 twenty feet away in any direction, and dangerous to 
 attempt to face it. 
 
 "It is a sand storm, as sure as you live," said Gus, 
 as soon as he could speak, " and if we don't get some- 
 where pretty soon we shall lose our bearings; and 
 you know there's a blizzard onlv two or three days 
 off." 
 
 "Gracious ! " exclaimed Jerry. " You go ahead, and 
 I'll follow, provided you don't go toward the wind. 
 My eyes are nearly blinded already." 
 
 "We don't want to go toward the wind," answered 
 his brother, " for that would lake us off toward Mr. 
 Wilson's. Pull your hat down over your eyes, keep 
 the wind blowing on your left cheek, and come on." 
 
 So saying Gus put his pony into a lope, and rode 
 away in the direction in which he supposed his uncle's 
 house to be. 
 
 It was all guess work on his part, for, as he after- 
 wards declared, he could not see the length of his 
 nose in front of him, the air was so full of sand and 
 stubble, and there were two things that he forgot to 
 take into consideration. One was, that his pony's 
 desire to get a breath of fresh air might lead him to 
 make for the nearest cover, and the other was the 
 possibility that the wind might not continue to blow 
 from the same quarter. 
 
 In fact it was shifting from one quarter to another 
 almost every instant, gradually veering around to the 
 north, from which point it would soon blow with the 
 greatest fury, bringing with it blinding sheets of snow 
 and cold so intense that no living thing could long 
 stand up against it ; and of course as the wind 
 changed its direction, the boys changed theirs in 
 order to " keep it blowing upon the left cheek " ; and 
 in less than ten minutes after they set out for their 
 
82 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 uncle's house, they were entirely turned around, and 
 riding furiously away from it. 
 
 On they went, for an hour or more, without once 
 drawing rein, and then there was a change in the 
 character of the wind, and in the appearance of things 
 around them. The breeze suddenly increased to a 
 gale, which, blowing more on a level with the ground, 
 speedily cleared the air of sticks, sand, and pebbles, 
 and then the boys stopped their ponies, raised the 
 brims of their hats and looked about them. There 
 was not a single familiar landmark within the range 
 of their vision. They were lost. Gus Warren had 
 had a faint suspicion of it before, but he was sure of 
 it now. They had been riding quite long enough to 
 reach the ranch, which was not more than seven or 
 eight miles from the swell on which their ponies 
 stood when the sand storm first struck them, and it 
 was plain that they had not held the right course. 
 
 More than that, he had noticed for a mile or so 
 back, that the ground over which his pony carried 
 him at the top of his speed was not at all familiar to 
 him. His tireless little steed was continually running 
 up one swell and down another, or jumping over the 
 gullies that lay in his course, and his rider more 
 than once told himself that he had never been 
 that way before. But he trusted to his pony's instinct, 
 and to the wind, rather than to his knowledge of the 
 country, and the consequence was he had lost his 
 bearings. 
 
 " Now, then, where is the house ?" demanded Jerry, 
 as soon as he had cleared his eyes of the dust that 
 had been blown into them. "Do you suppose it is 
 behind thai, cloud of sand and stones ? " he added, 
 pointing to the storm, whose course could be plainly 
 traced in the distance. 
 
 "No, I don't," replied Gus, promptly. "I don't 
 know where it is. We have lost our way." 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 85 
 
 "Oh, that can't be," protested Jerry. " Didn't you 
 feel the wind blowing on your left cheek all the 
 while ? I did." 
 
 " So did I ; and I am positive that if we had 
 continued to follow the course we had when we first 
 started, we should have found the ranch before this 
 time. But the wind must have changed, when we 
 thought it was holding steady all the time, and we're 
 lost." 
 
 "Lost ! "exclaimed Jerry, turning white with alarm. 
 " Lod !" he repeated, as if he did not quite grasp 
 the meaning of the word, at the same time raising 
 himself in Ms saddle in the vain effort to increase the 
 range of his vision. "Why, the house can't be very 
 far from here. What's that over there ? " 
 
 " It's the timber that lines the base of the foothills," 
 answered Gus, " You never saw it from the house, 
 did you? Home is twenty miles from here, -if it is an 
 inch. Probably it is much farther than that. Come 
 on." 
 
 " Where are you going ? " asked Jerry, as his 
 brother once more put his pony in motion and rode 
 toward the timber of which he had spoken. " The 
 house doesn't lie off in that direction. You must be 
 completely turned around." 
 
 " No more so than you are, if you imagine we can 
 reach Uncle Jack's roof tonight. We have barely 
 two hours of daylight left, and instead of wasting 
 that to no purpose I suggest that we make the best 
 of our way to the shelter of those trees and go into 
 camp." 
 
 Jerry Warren's fears increased every minute. 
 
 There was no word in the language that had so 
 many terrors for him as that little word "lost." To 
 his mind it comprehended all there was of hopeless, 
 helpless misery. While he was thinking about it, the 
 eloquent words of one of his favorite authors came in 
 
86 GILBERT THE TKAPPER. 
 
 to his mind, and he repeated them aloud without 
 being - conscious of what he was doing : 
 
 " There are those who, on finding themselves alone in a path- 
 less forest, become appalled, almost panic stricken. The vast- 
 ness of an unbroken wilderness subdues them, and they quail 
 before the relentless untamed forces of nature. They know that 
 she is stem, hard, immovable and terrible in unrelenting cruelty. 
 When winter winds are out and the mercury far below zero, 
 she will allow her most ardent lover to freeze to death on her 
 snowy breast without waving a leaf in sympathy, or offering 
 him a match ; and scores of her devotees may starve to death in 
 as many different languages, before she will give them a loaf of 
 bread." 
 
 " Well, we don't ask nature for a loaf of bread, or 
 for a match either," said Gus. as he headed his pony 
 for the woods and urged him into a gallop. " We've 
 got both and she can't starve or freeze us in one 
 night, that's certain. No ; I don't tbink our case is 
 desperate, but it is serious. That blizzard is com- 
 ing " 
 
 " There, now; I thought it was growing colder," 
 said Jerry, dropping his reins, and pulling his collar 
 up around his ears. "It frightens me to think of it. 
 If it comes before morning — then what ? " 
 
 " Why, then, we shall be weather bound; that's all," 
 answered Gus, who was not nearly so indifferent to 
 the dangers of their situation as he pretended to be. 
 " We've got sixteen cartridges apiece in our Win- 
 chesters, a camp axe and plenty of grub in our saddle 
 bags, and our blankets are strapped in their usual 
 places. I hope we know enough about woodcraft to 
 make ourselves comfortable for a few 7 hours." 
 
 " A few hours ! " repeated Jerry. " Don't you know 
 that these blizzards sometimes last three or four 
 days ? " 
 
 Gus believed he had heard Uncle Jack say so. 
 
 "And that it is no uncommon thing for them to 
 leave drifts more than twenty feet deep?" continued 
 Jerry. 
 
GILBEET THE TEAPPEE. 87 
 
 Gus knew that also, but did not see how they were 
 going to help themselves. If the blizzard came, they 
 would have to stand it ; that was all. It certainly 
 would not be prudent for them to try to reach home 
 that night, for the dark would catch them sure. 
 
 " Then why not trust to our ponies ? " inquired 
 Jerry. " I believe thev could find their way to the 
 
 house." 
 
 " I know they could, and I should be in favor of 
 giving them their heads, if I were not afraid of that 
 storm. You had better do as I say for once. You 
 will be sorry for it if you don't." 
 
 Jerry wasn't so sure of that, yet he yielded the 
 point, " It was well for him that he did, for before they 
 had accomplished half the fifteen miles that lay be- 
 tween tbem and the willows that fringed the base of 
 the foothills the blizzard barst upon them with 
 all its fury. 
 
 The gale roared like an express train, and in an 
 instant the snow shut the timber out from their view ; 
 but their ponies were their salvation. These intelli- 
 gent animals knew what a storm of this kind meant 
 better than their riders did, and without any word 
 from the boys, they increased their pace to a dead 
 run, holding a straight course for the hills. 
 
 The cold was far ahead of anything Gus had ever 
 experienced before, or even dreamed of, but he bore 
 up under it manfully; while Jerry wilted visibly at 
 every breath of the cutting blast. 
 
 " I can't stand it," he panted, as Gus Warren reined 
 alongside of him, and began unfastening the blanket 
 that was strapped behind his brother's saddle. " I'm 
 freezing." 
 
 " Oh no, you're not," replied Gus, whose lips were 
 so benumbed that he could scarcely frame the words. 
 "You hold fast to your horse; that's all you've got 
 to do. He'll take you through all right." 
 
88 GILBEKT THE TRAPPER 
 
 Having wrapped his brother up head and ears, Gus 
 unstrapped his own blanket and covered himself with 
 it; but the only good it did him was to afford his face 
 protection from the sheets of thin, cutting ice with 
 which the air was filled. 
 
 It did not seem to shut out the wind at all. He 
 began to think he was freezing himself, but he would 
 not have told Jerry so for the world. 
 
 He remembered reading somewhere that our sol- 
 diers often encourage their companions, when on a 
 difficult march, by singing songs; so Gus caught his 
 breath, moved his blanket out of the way so that his 
 disheartened brother could hear him, and struck up: 
 
 Och, I wish I was on butther-mil-lick hill, 
 And there I'd sit and cry me till ; 
 So that every tear might turn a mill— 
 Och, why did I go for a cowboy ? 
 
 "Brace up I" he added, catching Jerry by the arm 
 as the latter reeled in his saddle. " The woods are 
 right ahead of us. Now, pick up your reins and be 
 ready to check your pony. If you don't, he may dash 
 into the bushes and knock you off." 
 
 These words aroused the half frozen boy, who after 
 a few efforts managed to get hold of his reins, and 
 pull his blanket aside so that he could look out. The 
 snow was so thick and blinding that he could not see 
 anything, but a moment later his pony stopped his 
 headlong gallop, and stood dancing up and down in 
 his tracks". The cold and cutting ice together made 
 him so nearly frantic that he could not stand still. 
 
 "Kaise yourself in your stirrups so that I can pull 
 off your saddle bags," said a voice, close at his elbow. 
 " That's all right. Now tumble off and I wiD catch 
 you; but be sure and keep a fast hold on your bridle, 
 for if you give him the least chance, your pony— whoa, 
 there! That's what I was afraid of." 
 
 Jerry was too cold to care for anything but a good 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 89 
 
 fire and a safe shelter from the storm. He tumbled 
 limp and almost lifeless into his brother's outstretched 
 arms, at the same time allowing the reins to fall from 
 his grasp. That left his pony at liberty, and the suf- 
 fering animal was quick to appreciate the fact as well 
 as to take advantage of it. Giving an angry snort he 
 wheeled about, bowed his head to the storm and set 
 off at full speed. In his efforts to stop him and to 
 keep his brother from falling heavily to the ground, 
 Ghis released his grasp upon his own bridle, and his 
 pony dashed away to keep company with Jerry's. They 
 were out of sight in less time than it takes to tell it. 
 
 " They're stampeded easy enough," said Gus, as he 
 dragged rather than led his brother deeper into the 
 shelter afforded by the friendly bushes and ever- 
 greens, " and we've seen the last of them for one 
 while." 
 
 "Do you think they will go home?" Jerry man- 
 aged to ask. " I wish we had a lire. " 
 
 At almost any other time the loss of his horse would 
 have frightened Jerry; but now he did not seem to 
 care much about it. His brain was benumbed as well 
 as his body. 
 
 "No, I don't think they will go home," replied Gus. 
 "They will turn their heads away from the wind 
 and run till they drop. It is a wonder to me how we 
 controlled them as long as we did. We were so cold 
 that they could have pitched us over their heads at 
 any time, if they had taken a notion to do it." 
 
 " I don't see why they didn't stay with us, now that 
 we have reached shelter," observed Jerry. "These 
 trees completely shut off the storm, don't they ?" 
 
 " Yes; but they don't shut off the cold, and we shall 
 freeze if we don't get deeper into them and make a 
 camp. Uncle Jack says that the safest place during 
 a blizzard is a canyon. Come on, and we'll see if we 
 can find one." 
 
90 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 It was only by the greatest exercise of will power 
 that Jerry could bring- himself to act upon this sug- 
 gestion. 
 
 He lifted his saddle bags from the ground and plod- 
 ded wearily through the timber after his brother, but 
 he left him to do all the prospecting. Jerry was 
 so nearly " done up," as he expressed it, that he would 
 not have recognized a canyon if he had stumbled into 
 one. 
 
 In this desperate situation w 7 e must leave him and 
 his brother to take care of themselves while we take 
 up the history of some other characters whose names 
 have been incidentally mentioned in this narrative. 
 
 Let us go in search of Gilbert the Trapper, who is 
 really the hero of my story. 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 91 
 
 CHAPTER Xin. 
 
 THIRTEEN YEARS BEFORE. 
 
 " There's a man outside who calls himself Grizzly 
 Pete, and who says he would like to see you, sir, on 
 business of the greatest importance." 
 
 Colonel Starke, the commanding officer of old Fort 
 Shaw, who had just filled his pipe for his after sup- 
 per smoke, having previously pulled off his heavy 
 boots and thrust his feet into a pair of comfortable 
 slippers, faced about in his big chair and looked 
 at the speaker — a spruce orderly, who stood in the 
 open door with his hand to his cap. 
 
 " Grizzly Pete," repeated the colonel, "don't know 
 any such man. Does he belong here ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir, he's a scpuaw man, and he " 
 
 "That settles it," interrupted the officer, impa- 
 tiently. " I won't see him. Tell him to go and bother 
 the agent. I have nothing to do with him or his kind. 
 He gets his rations Saturday, just because he happens 
 to have an Indian wife, and that's all the government 
 can afford to do for him." 
 
 " But he's got a little white boy with him, sir," con- 
 tinued the orderly, " and he wants to give him up to 
 you." 
 
 " A white boy ?" exclaimed the colonel. " Where 
 did he get him ? Send him in." 
 
 The soldier closed the door of the commandant's 
 quarters behind him, and in a few minutes opened it 
 
92 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 again to admit a tall, bearded man, who carried some- 
 thing in his arms that was closely wrapped in a dirty 
 blanket. He took possession of the nearest chair 
 without waiting for an invitation, removed the blank- 
 et, and disclosed to the colonel's astonished view one 
 of the handsomest boys he had ever seen — a sprightly 
 little four year old, who was dressed in a complete suit 
 of gaudily ornamented buckskin. 
 
 " Where in the name of all that's wonderful did 
 you pick him up?" inquired the colonel, as soon as 
 he somewhat recovered himself. 
 
 He held out his hands to the child, but the latter 
 turned to the squaw man, and climbed upon his 
 knee. 
 
 " Whar did I pick him up?" repeated the renegade. 
 " Nowhares. He's mine, an' always has been ; ain't 
 that so, Gilbert ? An' I reckon the way he comes to 
 me, instead of runnin' to you when you hold out your 
 hands, proves it, don't it ? Yes, he has always been 
 mine." 
 
 The colonel could hardly believe that he heard 
 aright. He looked at the squaw man's repulsive 
 face, then at the boy's clear cut features, and told 
 himself that there was not the slightest resemblance 
 between them, nor any relationship, either. 
 
 "You see, colonel, I ain't always been what lam 
 now," continued the squaw man. "I used to be a 
 gentleman in Calif orny, an' what brought me out 
 here among the Injuns ain't nobody's business, so 
 long as I didn't do nothing that the law can take hold 
 of. I'm here, an' so is the boy ; but an Injun tepee 
 ain't just the place for a brat of this sort." 
 
 "No; I shouldn't say it was," replied the colonel. 
 "It is one of the worst places in the world for him; 
 that is, if you want him to be anybody when he 
 grows up." 
 
 " That's jest the p'int, colonel," exclaimed the squaw 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 93 
 
 man. "I clo want liim to be somebody when lie 
 gr .\vs ui), an' that's why I brung hiin to the post. 
 Thar's white women here, an' if they would only 
 take him in hand an' see that he gets a little trainin' 
 that'll fit him to go among them of his own kind, I'd 
 he monstrous glad of it. If you won't let him stay, 
 then he's as good as dead." 
 
 ' What do you mean by that?" 
 
 " Wal, I'll tell you, colonel. This boy has got a 
 fortin' comin' to him, an' that same fortin' is what 
 drove me among the Injuns. I come here to save the 
 boy's life ; but I'm follered by them that wants him 
 ouien the way so that they can get the money, an' 
 I'm that scared to keep him any longer, that I made 
 up my mind I'd best put him whar he'd be safe. 
 Understand ?" 
 
 " Of course I understand what you say, but I do 
 not quite understand the situation," answered the 
 colonel. 
 
 " No more do I," said the squaw man. " But that's 
 the way of it. If the boy lives, he'll get a power of 
 money some of these days ; an' if he don't, the dust 
 will go to them that ain't got no business to have it. 
 Understand?" 
 
 " Perfectly. The boy is heir to a big property that 
 will come into his possession when he is twenty one 
 years old." 
 
 'And you are afraid to keep him for the reason 
 that certain other claimants may try to put him out 
 of the way, so that they can inherit the whole of the 
 property themselves." 
 
 " That's the idee," said the squaw man, again. 
 "Now, will you do it?" 
 
 "I wiH," replied the colonel, readily. "And I 
 will also take care that you don't get your hands on 
 him again," he added mentally. " I don't believe 
 that you have a shadow of a right to him." 
 
94 GILBEKT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 "But thar's jest this here about it," continued the 
 squaw man, as if he read the thoughts that were 
 passing through the officer's mind. " Thai's to be no 
 plottin' ag'in the Dutch while lie is in your hands. 
 I'm to be allowed to see him as often as it suits me, 
 which will be often enough to satisfy me that he's all 
 right, an' ain't been spirited off to the States , an' he 
 ain't to be sent off this here reservation without my 
 consent. I ain't by no means givin' him up to you 
 for good, you understand, an' I wouldn't give him 
 to anybody for a single minute, if I wasn't scared 
 that some harm may come to him if I keep him my- 
 self." 
 
 " Who are you, any way ?" asked the colonel, sud- 
 denly. "I never saw you before." 
 
 "That's cause you ain't been here long enough to 
 get acquainted with the folks on the reservation," 
 was the reply. "I am called Grizzly Pete, an' I'm 
 one of the best scouts an' trailers you ever see. The 
 major who was here before you took command, 
 Imowed me well. I used to be post hunter, an' now 
 an' then I done a trifle in tlie way of interpretin' 
 wdien thar was a council held. I was here long be- 
 fore you ever heard of Fort Shaw." 
 
 " How long ?" inquired the officer. 
 
 He asked the question carelessly enough, but he 
 waited eagerly for the answer. Grizzly Pete looked 
 stupid, and he had a lazy, drawling way of talking ; 
 but he was deep and sharp, nevertheless, and in- 
 stantly detected the trap the colonel was trying to 
 get him into. 
 
 " Oh, a long time," replied the squaw man. " As 
 much as a year an' a half, mebbe a little longer." 
 
 "Is the boy's mother living?" asked the colonel. 
 
 The squaw man shook his head. 
 
 "What is his name?" 
 
 " Gilbert." 
 
GILBERT THE TEAPPEK. 95 
 
 "Gilbert what?" 
 
 " Gilbert nothing. I call myself Axley, when I call 
 myself anything besides Grizzly Pete, but I wouldn t 
 like to sw'ar that that's my name." 
 
 "I don't see why yon should try to hide your name 
 if you haven't been doing anything that the law can 
 take hold of," said the colonel. " But I suppose that 
 is vour own business." 
 
 "You've hit it," asseuted the squaw man. ' Can t 
 you see that if I told my name to every Tom Dick an 
 Harry I might make myself known to them that lm 
 trvin' to dodge? Well, what do you say?" 
 
 "Haven't I already told you that I will take the 
 
 boy?" 
 
 "Yes; but you haven't agreed to my conditions. 
 You mustn't take or send him off the reservation, 
 an' nuther must you say a word to turn him agin his 
 
 paw." }j .-i.i i 
 
 " I don't believe you are his father, said tne col- 
 onel. .,, 
 " Wal, you ain't the only one that thinks so, it it will 
 do you anv good to know it," replied Grizzly Pete. 
 " But I'd like to see the man that's able to prove I 
 ain't his paw, so I would." 
 " Was the boy born here ? " 
 " No. He was born in Californy." 
 "Did you bring him to the reservation when you 
 first came here ? " 
 
 " No, I just brung him. You see I wanted to 
 make friends with the Injuns first, so't I'd know it 
 was safe for him here. Then I went to Californy an 
 got him. I've jest got back from thar." 
 3 Colonel Starke made no reply, but he told him- 
 self that his first hard work on the morrow should 
 be to prove the truth or falsity of this statement. 
 He would have an interview with the agent, and 
 with all the old scouts attached to the post, and find 
 
96 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 out something about this man who called himself 
 Grizzly Pete. 
 
 "I'd like to have you look out for the boy as long- 
 as you stay here, an' be ready to turn him over to 
 me v/hen I say the word," said the squaw man, 
 placing the child upon the floor, and rising to his 
 feet, as if he considered the contract made. " When 
 you are ordered away, 111 see the officer who comes 
 to take your place, an' try to make the same 'range- 
 men ts with him. If anything happens to me that I 
 don't never call for him, then Gilbert is your'n to 
 keep, if you want him. But you'd best keep a,n eye 
 on him, 'cause I tell you, plain as I can say it, that 
 thar is them about here who'd like to see him dead." 
 
 So saying, Grizzly Pete set the boy down in the 
 chair he had just vacated, nodded to the colonel, and 
 went out, leaving the latter almost overwhelmed with 
 astonishment. 
 
 " It's the strangest thing I ever heard of," solilo- 
 quized Colonel Starke, after he had made several 
 unavailing efforts to induce the child to come to 
 him. " That man's story is a lie from beginning to 
 end; and if I can fasten it on him, he will never get 
 the boy again. I can tell him that much. Now r , 
 what shall I do with him ? That's the question, and 
 it is much too deep for me. I must have help. Or- 
 derly, tell Mrs. Starke that I should like to see her." 
 
 The commandant squared around in his chair so 
 that he could take a good look at the boy who had 
 been so unexpectedly left on his hands, and puffed 
 vigorously at his pipe while he awaited his wife's 
 coming. 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 97 
 
 CHAPTEE XIV. 
 
 COLONEL STARKE's WARD. 
 
 Great was the excitement at old Fort Shaw, when 
 the events which I have described in the preceding 
 chapter became known to the officers and men who 
 were stationed there. The former declared, as one 
 man, that Grizzly Pete's story was false in every par- 
 ticular; but the scouts, notably Arizona Charley, the 
 bravest and best of them all, were unanimously of 
 the opinion that there might be some grains of truth 
 in it. 
 
 " This here is a great country, kurn," said Charley, 
 in response to some leading questions propounded 
 to him by his commander; "an' there's a heap of 
 things going on that people in the States don't never 
 think of. I don't know it of my own knowin', but 
 everybody says it's a fact that Pete used to be a dif- 
 ferent sort of man from what he is now. Where he 
 come from, an' what he was before he come here, I 
 never heard." 
 
 "How long has he been on the reservation?" 
 asked the colonel. 
 
 " About two year, I should say." 
 
 " But he has lived among the Indians longer than 
 that." 
 
 "Course he has. Why, bless you, that there man 
 knows the country about here as well as I do, an' 
 I've been trappin' and scoutin' for twenty year an' 
 better." 
 
98 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 "That is just what I want to get at," said the 
 colonel. "If I could be satisfied that Pete has been 
 a squaw man for, say, a dozen years, then I should 
 know that the boy does not belong to him, and I 
 never should give him up." 
 
 ** But s'posin' you can't prove that ? " 
 
 " Then I shall have to surrender the boy when 
 Pete demands him; that's all." 
 
 "Well, then, that's what you may make up your 
 mind to do," said the scout. " After you have been 
 on the plains a little longer, you will know that you 
 can't prove anything by an Injun, an' that it ain't 
 worth while to place the least faith in what a squaw 
 man says. There can't nary a one of 'em be trusted. 
 Pete's got a pardner, Buckskin Bob, an' I might try 
 to get something out of bim the next time I see him; 
 but I wouldn't advise you to put the smallest de- 
 pendence in the story he tells me. But I'll tell you 
 one thing, kurn, an' that ain't two: if you have the 
 least interest in finding out who that bo}- is, don't 
 let him put his foot off this reservation. If you do, 
 the whole business will be knocked in the head. All 
 the evidence he's got is right here, somewheres; an' 
 right here he had better stay." 
 
 All the other scouts said the same thing, and at 
 last the officers began to think that that was the 
 only thing that could be done. Mrs. Starke, who 
 took the motherless little fellow to her heart at once, 
 was often heard to declare that she would take him 
 to the States, when her husband was ordered to an- 
 other post, and see him educated ; and it was only 
 after repeated interviews with Arizona Charley that 
 she could be induced to abandon the idea. 
 
 " I am positive that that horrid Grizzly Pete, as he 
 calls himself, has no claim whatever upon Gilbert," 
 was her constant asseveration. "Why, just look at 
 him, and then look at that man who claims relation- 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 99 
 
 ship to him, the next time you meet him! I am 
 going to adopt him and be a mother to him." 
 
 " That shows a mighty sight of goodness on your 
 part, Mrs. Kuril," said the shrewd old scout. " But 
 let me tell you: if Gilbert lives to be twenty one, 
 he'll be older'n he is now, won't he ? An' jest as like 
 as not he'll be wantin' to know who his folks was, an' 
 all about it. You wouldn't like to have him think 
 that he is a nobody, 'cause he ain't; an' nuther would 
 you try to make him believe that he belonged to 
 you, 'cause there'd be something right in there " (as 
 Charley said this he laid his hand over his heart), 
 "that would tell him different." 
 
 After listening to a few arguments like this from 
 the lips of the old scout, Mrs. Starke gave up> the 
 idea of adopting the little waif, but she did not re- 
 lax her efforts to discover who he was, and where he 
 came from. During the rest of her sojourn at Fort 
 Shaw, she and the other ladies of the garrison tried 
 by every means in their power, by the most ingeni- 
 ously contrived questions and suggestions, to awaken 
 in Gilbert's mind some slight recollection of the past; 
 but they finally gave it up in despair. 
 
 The boy's mind was a blank. He could tell about 
 things that happened in Grizzly Pete's tepee, of the 
 bows and arrows he played with, and the ponies he 
 used to ride; and the only time he went beyond that, 
 he said something that gave color to the squaw man's 
 story. He talked about a long journey he had once 
 made, during which he was compelled to ride so 
 many hours in his father's arms, or behind him on 
 the horse, that he got tired out and couldn't sleep. 
 
 That gave the death blow to Mrs. Starke's hopes, 
 and even forced the colonel to believe that Grizzly 
 Pete told him nothing but the truth. When the 
 hitter was relieved of his command and ordered to 
 another post of duty, he and his wife took a tearful 
 
100 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 leave of Gilbert, and almost their last act was to ex- 
 act a promise from Arizona Charley that he would 
 see the boy taken care of. 
 
 The years passed away, and many changes took 
 place at old Fort Shaw. New faces appeared, re- 
 mained a while, and then gave room to others; but 
 there were two which each succeeding commander 
 was sure to see within a few hours of his arrival, 
 those of Arizona Charley and his protege, Gilbert 
 the trapper, as he had come to be called. 
 
 For the little waif had grown to be a tall, broad 
 shouldered youth, and under the old scout's faithful 
 tuition had developed into an enthusiastic lover of 
 the chase, a fearless rider and an expert shot. He 
 knew his history, too, or as much of it as Arizona 
 Charley could tell him, and was anxious to meet face 
 to face the man who claimed to be his father. 
 
 More than that (and this is something I do not 
 pretend to understand, although I know it is so), as 
 he grew in j^ears, he seemed to acquire the power to 
 penetrate deeper and deeper into his past life, just 
 as the man who is climbing a hill is able to see more 
 and more of the road over which he has come with 
 every mile he gains toward the top. 
 
 " I know, as well as I know anything, that I made 
 that long journey in company with my own father," 
 Gilbert often said. " But he left me all of a sudden, 
 and what became of him I don't remember, if indeed 
 I ever knew. It seems to me that he put me to bed 
 one night, and that I never saw him afterwards. 
 This is the way I feel— as if there was a fog in my 
 mind which would be completely cleared away by 
 half a dozen words." 
 
 And this w r as a good explanation of his mental 
 condition, as subsequent events proved. He heard 
 the mystic words after a while, but he wished he 
 hadn't. 
 
GILBERT THE TBAPPER. 101 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 gilbert's boyhood. 
 
 During the years of which I have spoken, Gilbert 
 had not been tied to any woman's apron strings. 
 ^Yhen he was about twelve years of age, there came 
 to the fort a crusty old commandant who did not pay 
 quite enough attention to Gilbert to suit Arizona 
 Charley. In fact, he declared that he couldn't be 
 bothered with a brat of a boy whom nobody knew 
 anything about, and that the best thing Gilbert 
 could do would be to clear himself and go back to 
 hid father's tepee, where he belonged. 
 
 This was the opportunity for the old scout, who 
 had always put a literal construction upon Mrs. 
 Starke's parting commands, and he lost no time in 
 assuming full control over Gilbert's actions. He 
 quit the government employ, gave the boy a pony, 
 and in company with some of his frontier friends set 
 out on a trading expedition to the Navajo nation. 
 
 Did he forget the arrangement which Colonel 
 Starke had made with Grizzly Pete, that Gilbert was 
 not to be taken or sent off the Ute reservation ? Not 
 at all; but he told himself that Colonel Starke was 
 not in command at Fort Shaw now, and it was high 
 time that Gilbert was seeing more of the world than 
 he was able to see about the agency. If Grizzly 
 Pete didn't like it, he might help himself, if he could. 
 
 The adventures that befell Gilbert during the 
 three years that he was absent from Fort Shaw 
 
102 GILBERT THE TRAPPER 
 
 would make an interesting story in themselves; but 
 with them T have, at present, nothing to do. It will 
 be enough to say that the expedition proved profi- 
 table beyond the scout's most sanguine expectations; 
 that he and Gilbert hunted and trapped for a whole 
 year in the Navajo nation; that they afterward joined 
 an expedition that was fitted out to go in search of 
 a ''Ship of Gold," reported to be stranded some- 
 where in the desert. 
 
 In this undertaking brave Arizona Charley lost 
 his life; and Gilbert finally found his way back to 
 the agency at the head of a mule train, which was 
 loaded down with Navajo blankets, and an assort- 
 ment of Mexican goods which find ready sale among 
 the agency Indians. 
 
 Not a single one of the friends in whose company 
 he left Fort Shaw, came back with him. They had 
 become scattered, and those whom he had employed 
 to help him bring in his train were strangers to 
 everybody about the post. 
 
 As for Gilbert himself, his most intimate friend 
 would not have recognized him at first glance. He 
 had grown wonderfully tall and strong during the 
 three years he had spent in the saddle; and the dress 
 he wore, which was very unlike the modest suit he 
 had on when he went away, was almost as good as a 
 disguise. 
 
 He wore the costume to which he afterward clung 
 — buckskin throughout, with the exception of his 
 head covering, which was a sombrero with the widest 
 brim anybody ever saw. His saddle and bridle were 
 made and ornamented after the Mexican fashion, 
 and his weapons were the finest that money could 
 
 buy. 
 
 Gilbert rode to the headquarters of the post 
 trader, and dismounted in front of his door, which 
 was fairly packed with curious cowboys, soldiers, 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 103 
 
 and squaw men, who, having heard of his approach, 
 were assembled there to wait for him. There were 
 Indians there, too, but they sat back in the store. 
 Their stoicism would not permit them to exhibit any 
 interest in the new comers. 
 
 The trader, who had the exclusive right to trade 
 at that post, and who scented big profits in the near 
 future, was unaccountably nervous and excited as he 
 worked his way toward the door. "When his gaze 
 fell upon the fall, broad shouldered figure in buck- 
 skin, who was just getting out of his saddle, his face 
 brightened, but when that figure turned toward him, 
 he stepped back out of sight. 
 
 " Pete," said he, in a suppressed whisper, address- 
 ing himself to one of the squaw men, " that's your boy 
 if ever I saw him. He has come back rich. He 
 doesn't need any of the fortune that is hidden in the 
 Sweetwater Canyon." 
 
 Grizzly Pete was, both at that time and always, a 
 typical dime novel borderman; but he was a very dirty 
 one. His hair, which fell down upon his shoulders, 
 and the whiskers that covered the lower part of his 
 face, were so matted and tangled that a curry comb 
 could hardly have made an impression upon them, his 
 hands were "never clean, and taken altogether he was 
 the very personification of sbiftlessness. 
 
 At Pete's suggestion, his partner, Buckskin Bob, had 
 held several interviews with Gilbert. He had taken 
 a liking to him, as every one did who had anything 
 to do with him, and he was in favor of turning: the 
 papers which Pete was guarding so carefully over 
 to somebody who could read them, and who would 
 assist Gilbert in his search for the fortune to which 
 he was entitled. 
 
 This proposition made Grizzly Pete furious, and he 
 frightened his partner by threatening to ruinate him, 
 soul and body, if he ever mentioned the thing again, 
 
104 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 " But I'll tell you what's a fact," said the squaw 
 man, to himself. " Thar's got to be something done 
 about this business. Thar's that fortin', wastin' away 
 in the canyon w r ithout doin' nobody no good, an' 
 here's me, who ought to have had it spent long ago. 
 I wish I knowed somebody who could read the 
 Dutch part of those papers, an' who would go snucks 
 with me in the fortin' after we find it. This would 
 be the best kind of time to hunt it up if a feller only 
 knowed whar to go. I've suspicioned for a long while 
 that that thar Arizona Charley was keepin' a close 
 eye on me an' Bob, an' now that he is out of the way, 
 I'd like to find them nuggets an' dust; but who shall 
 I show the papers to? That's the p'int that's a both- 
 erin' of me now." 
 
 And it was the point that continued to bother the 
 squaw man for months aftarwar d; and then an inci- 
 dent happened that suggested something to him. 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 105 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THE POST TRADER'S CURIOSITY AROUSED. 
 
 One day, when Arizona Charley and Gilbert had 
 been absent from the agency about two months a 
 stranger made his appearance, accompanied by a lot 
 of fine horses. Of course he wanted to sell, and as 
 he was willing to sell cheap, there were plenty who 
 were willing to buy. The post trader was his prin- 
 cipal customer, and when the stranger went away a 
 few hours later, that worthy had on his hands a score 
 or more of horses which he knew had been stolen 
 
 somewhere. , - 
 
 Grizzly Pete, Buckskin Bob, and a few others of 
 that class, acted as his agents in disposing of the 
 animals at distant points, and the whole business 
 was conducted so quietly that no one, who could 
 have interfered with it, was any the wiser tor it. 
 Then Grizzly Pete, to use his own expression, Had 
 the trader right where he wanted him. Finding him 
 alone in his store one day, he began conversation 
 with him in this way: 
 
 « Look a here, Cap'n Barton; they tell me that one 
 good turn deserves another, an' since lye helped 
 you get rid of them bosses that was stole, I want 
 you to do a favor for me." 
 
 « I thought I had settled with you in full, replied 
 the trader. " How much more do I owe you ? 
 
 « Nothing more but your good will, said the squaw 
 man. " I want you to read a paper for me. 
 
106 GILBEKT THE TRAPPER, 
 
 " Oli ; all right. I thought you were going to de- 
 mand hush money." 
 
 " I ain't that sort of folks, Cap'n Barton, an' no- 
 body knows it better'n you do," said Grizzly Pete, 
 with an injured air. " I am willin' to put my name 
 to a paper, an' sw'ar that thar's a thousand Injuns 
 here who oughter be given rations, an' powder an' 
 blankets an' sich, but I keep my mouth shet about it 
 arterwards." 
 
 "Provided you are well paid for it," added the 
 trader. 
 
 "Wal, yes; I don't work for nothing, an' nuther 
 do you sell goods for nothing. I know I don't look 
 like it, but my name's worth a heap of moiie}" to 
 some folks. Read that." 
 
 Captain Barton easily read the paper that was 
 placed in his hands, because it was written in Eng- 
 lish; but he could not make any sense out of it. It 
 was not all there. 
 
 " Give me the rest of it," said he. 
 
 "I can't; 'cause why, another feller's got it." 
 
 "Then go and get it. You might as well ask me 
 to tell a man's age by looking at the print of his 
 foot in the sand, as to expect me to make head or 
 tail of a paper when you give me only half of it," 
 said the trader, carelessly; but he did not hand the 
 document back, for he was interested in it. The 
 words "thousand dollars' worth of dust " and "cache 
 my valuables," caught his eye, and he was certain 
 that the squaw man had a secret to tell him. 
 
 " I can read that paper myself," said the latter, 
 "but I can't read this one." 
 
 He passed over the rest of the cryptogram, and 
 then the trader thought he began to understand the 
 matter. He glanced at the papers, and saw that the 
 same name, Gilbert Hubbard Nevins, was signed to 
 both of them. 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 107 
 
 "Pete," said he, in a suppressed whisper, "you 
 might as well own up now. You told me that Gil- 
 bert the trapper was your son, and he isn't." 
 
 " Sho ! " exclaimed the squaw man, who was really 
 surprised at the trader's penetration. " How do you 
 make that out ? " 
 
 "Do you take me for a blockhead? " was the angry 
 response. "I have susj^ected it for a long time, ever 
 since I became acquainted with you and Gilbert, in 
 fact, and eveiw one about the post suspects it. Why, 
 Pete, you are a blockhead yourself, if you imagine 
 you have made folks believe that you are that boy's 
 father. If you are, what's the reason you don't have 
 something to do with him ? " 
 
 " Wal, it's jest like I told Colonel Starke when I 
 give the boy into his keepin' years ago," replied 
 Pete, who was determined to hold to his story as 
 long as he could, for the very simple reason that he 
 could not, on the impulse of the moment, think up 
 another to substitute for it. "I've got heaps an' 
 stacks of nuggets an' dust coram' to me, an' " 
 
 " Oh, get out ! " exclaimed the trader, in tones of 
 disgust. 
 
 "I tell you it's a fact," protested the squaw man. 
 " If my boy lives, he'll get it when he is twent}" one 
 years old, but thar is folks in the world who would 
 like to see him put out of the way, so't they can get 
 the dust themselves. That's the reason I give him 
 up to Colonel Starke — to be took care on till he was 
 old enough to claim his rights." 
 
 The trader heard him through, and as soon as the 
 squaw man ceased speaking, proceeded to pick flaws 
 in his story. 
 
 "That statement won't wash," said he, calmly. 
 "Look here, Pete: if you have got so much money 
 coming to you, why don't you go and get it ? " 
 
 "Eh?" exclaimed the squaw man, who, sharp as 
 
108 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 he thought he was, found himself cornered at the 
 start. 
 
 " If you have so much money coming to you, why 
 don't you go and get it ? " repeated the trader, sjDeak- 
 ing very slowly. "Can't you understand that?" 
 
 "Course I can. I don't know wdiar it is." 
 
 "Does Gilbert know?" 
 
 "No, he don't." 
 
 " Then how T is he to get his property when he 
 reaches his majority? Is any one coming forward 
 to show him where that cache is? Now, look here: I 
 can see as far into a millstone as the next man, I 
 don't care where he comes from. You have been up 
 to something — you and your copper colored friends, 
 and I — I know better; 3011 have," said the trader, 
 when Pete grew red in the face, and began flourish- 
 ing his lists over the counter. "Now, look here: I 
 can't follow up a blind trail, and what's more to the 
 point, I shan't try. There's money in this business, 
 and if you want me to help you get it, you must tell 
 me the truth from beginning to end. If that don't 
 suit you, take your papers and clear out. Who's 
 got the rest of them ? " 
 
 Pete replied that his partner, Buckskin Bob, had 
 them. 
 
 " That's another dead give away on you ; but since 
 you have taken him for a partner you can go to him 
 for help. I tell you as a friend, however, that you 
 won't get it. The writing on that smallest paper is 
 written in a language that no one on this reservation 
 except myself can read." 
 
 If Gus and Jerry Warren could have heard these 
 words, how they would have opened their eyes ! 
 Did the trader know wdiat he w r as talking about, or 
 w 7 as he simply trying to work upon the squaw man's 
 credulity? 
 
 " Let me take another look at that smallest paper," 
 
GILBEKT THE TRAPPER. 109 
 
 Continued Captain Barton, helping himself to one of 
 his own cigars, and pushing another across the 
 counter toward the squaw man. He examined the 
 cryptogram very closety, or pretended to, and went 
 on : "Yes, sir; ] am the only one on this reserva- 
 tion who can read it. Go and give it to the com- 
 mandant, if you dare, and see if he don't kick you 
 out of his quarters for trying to make a fool of him. 
 He would say at once that there was nothing in it." 
 
 " But thar is something in it, ain't thar ? " said 
 Pete, nervously. 
 
 " Ain't there ? Well, I should say so. Not enough 
 to make sense^ of, to be sure, but enough to show me 
 that we hold a very valuable secret in our hands, if 
 we can only get the rest of the paper from Buckskin 
 Bob." 
 
 "If I'll do that will you read it for me ? " asked 
 the squaw man, eagerly. 
 
 " That depends on whether or not you are willing 
 to tell me the truth about the whole business. I'll 
 not have a single thing to do with it, unless you tell 
 me just how the thing stands. I don't suppose that 
 Bob will be willing to give up his part of the 
 papers " 
 
 " Wal, if we've got to have 'em, I'll get 'em whether 
 he's willing or not," said Grizzly Pete, savagely. 
 
 "I was about to say," continued the trader, "that 
 Bub may not be willing to surrender his papers — I 
 wouldn't if I were in his place — but if you. can in- 
 duce him to bring them here so that I can take a 
 copy of them, it will do just as well. We don't care 
 for the originals. All we want is the money. Look 
 here : who cut these papers in two ? You did. All 
 right. Then you must have read the other half of 
 this letter. Does it say what shape the valuables 
 were in, and how much they were worth ? " 
 
 " 'Pears to me that thar was a hundred thousand 
 
110 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 dollars' wuth of dust and nuggets," replied the squaw 
 man, reluctantly. He would have been glad to keep 
 the trader in ignorance upon this point, but the 
 question was propounded so suddenly that he could 
 not think up any lie to fit the case. 
 
 ""Well, now, that's a tidy sum," said the trader, 
 opening his eyes. "Fifty thousand dollars apiece 
 will make us rich ; although I expect to have more 
 than that when I am crowded out of this post to 
 make room for a new man. Now I am ready to hear 
 your .story," he added, as he came out from behind 
 his counter and closed and locked the front doors. 
 "Mind you, I want nothing but the simple truth. 
 If I find that yon are playing me false, I'll drop you 
 like a hot potato." 
 
 " But will you keep your mouth shet about it ? " 
 inquired the squaw man. 
 
 "Why should I go and blab it? Of course I will 
 keep still. I came out here to make money, and I 
 would as soon dig it out of the ground as to take it 
 over the counter. Now go on. Where did you get 
 those papers ? No, hold on a minute. What sort of 
 a cock and bull story did you tell Colonel Starke ? " 
 
 "I told him that the boy was mine, that he had a 
 heap of money coming to him, that there was folks 
 in the world who wasn't any too good to kill him, 
 an' that I wanted to leave him at the fort whar he 
 would be safe an' well brought up." 
 
 "That wasn't the truth, of course," said Captain 
 Barton. "Now look here : what was your object 
 in lying to him like that?" 
 
 These questions brought the squaw man to his 
 narrative, which he gave substantially as follows : 
 
 A good many years ago — just how many Grizzly 
 Pete could not remember, but it must have been a 
 dozen, at least — he and Buckskin Bob led a party of 
 Indians on a horse stealing expedition to the Chey- 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. Ill 
 
 enne reservation. Unfortunately for them, they 
 were decoyed into an ambush, and lost half then- 
 number before they could get out. Of course that 
 made them desperate, and they vowed that they 
 would never return to their people until they had 
 taken revenge on somebody, and secured scalps and 
 plunder enough to recompense them for the heavy 
 punishment they had received. 
 
 The numerous trails they crossed while they were 
 making their way slowly back to their reservation, 
 warned them that the troops were abroad ; and this 
 was the only thing that restrained them from attack- 
 ing all the ranches that lay in their course, and 
 leaving death and destruction behind them. 
 
 At last fate threw in their way a party of eight 
 miners, who were journeying across the plains with 
 their pack males. This afforded them the opportu- 
 nity for which they were w r aiting, and they were 
 prompt to seize upon it. After an hour's fighting, 
 for the miners were well armed, and fought as brave 
 men always do when they know that they must con- 
 quer or die, the party were all killed with the ex- 
 ception of a little boy, whose life Grizzly Pete saved 
 at the imminent risk of losing his own. 
 
 AVhat it was that prompted him to interfere, the 
 squaw man said he didn't know ; for he was not then 
 aware that the boy had anything of value about him, 
 except the little gold locket that was promptly 
 snatched away by one of the Indians. This induced 
 the squaw men to look in his pockets, and they 
 finall}- brought to light the papers which the boy's 
 dead father had pat there only two days before. Mr. 
 Nevins hoped, as he said in his letter, that if he were 
 killed by his companions, the papers might fall into 
 the hands of some honest man, who would see that 
 his boy got his rights. 
 
 Of course Pete and his partner read the letter, 
 
112 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 but tliey could not decipher the cryptogram, and so 
 they tried to induce their little captive to lead them 
 back to the places where the miners had camped for 
 a few nights back ; but he didn't know* enough to 
 do it, and the Indians could not follow the trail the 
 miners had made, for a pelting rain storm had 
 washed awa} T all traces of it. Their failure to find 
 the place where the treasure was hidden made the 
 Indians angry, and it was only by making promises 
 which they knew they never could fulfill, that Pete 
 and his partner induced them to spare the boy's life. 
 
 " What sort of promises did you make them ? " 
 inquired the trader. 
 
 " Why, we told them that we'd take the papers 
 home an' study 'em out ; an' when we'd got to the 
 bottom of 'em, we'd let the Injuns know it. Wal, 
 them reds ain't forgot that yet, not by a long shot. 
 A Injun may forget every promise he makes you, 
 but you can bet your bottom dollar that he won't 
 never disremember an}* that you make him. They've 
 often called on me an' Bob to know what them 
 papers said to us ; but we've allers told 'em that the 
 medicine that was writ onto 'em was too deep for 
 white folks to study out in a minute, an' that we'd 
 have to have more time. An' right thar's goin' to 
 be a pinch that mebbe you ain't thought of, cap'n. 
 When we go up the canyon to dig up them nuggets 
 an' dust, thar'll be Injuns watchin' of us." 
 
 ••Well, after you read those papers, or one of 
 them, you cut them in two and gave Bob half of 
 each as a mere matter of form, I suppose ? " said the 
 trader. 
 
 ••Not much," exclaimed the squaw man. "We 
 divided 'em so't nary one couldn't get the plunder 
 without the other's bein' knowin' to it." 
 
 •- That's what I meant. Now look here : what 
 made you give the boy to the colonel ? " 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 113 
 
 " For the same reason that made me hide my shar' 
 of the papers in a holler tree whar nobody couldn't 
 ever find 'em," said Grizzly Pete, with a knowing 
 wink. "Bob allers does the squar' thing when it 
 comes to dividing the spelter we get in huntin' an' 
 trappin', and I ain't got no fault to find with the 
 way he carries himself in a fight ; but it ain't safe 
 to trust him too fur when thar's hard money to be 
 had for the diggin' of it up. I didn't like the way 
 he acted arter we got that boy in our hands, an' I 
 looked for nothing but to see him skip out with him 
 some night. That's why I took him to the col- 
 onel." 
 
 " I don't see what good it would have done to run 
 the boy off," observed the trader. "He doesn't 
 know where his folks live, and how was he to find 
 out anything about him ? " 
 
 " Wal, you see I didn't know what was writ onto 
 that smallest paper. 'Cordin' to my way of thinkin', 
 the man who can read that will have the whole thing 
 into his own hands." 
 
 " That's the way I look at it, too ; but Bob had 
 only half the paper, and that wasn't enough to give 
 him any very valuable information." 
 
 " More'n that," continued the squaw man, "I have 
 allers had an idee that if Bob could cipher out that 
 paper, he'd go for that money, an' leave me to whistle 
 for my shar'." 
 
 " That's just the way you intend to serve him, isn't 
 it?" 
 
 " What else can I do ? " demanded Pete. '-'What's 
 the use of them nuggets layin' thar under the ground 
 without doin' no good to anj^body? Bob couldn't 
 help me, and so I had to look out for somebody else." 
 
 " I can't for the life of me see what your object 
 was in holding fast to the boy, and claiming him as 
 your own," said Captain Barton, after a little pause. 
 
114 GILBEKT THE TRAPPER 
 
 "Why didn't you let Mrs. Starke have him and carry 
 him off to the States, as I hear she wanted to do ? " 
 
 " 'Cause I thought that mebbe I could make some- 
 thing outen him when he got bigger," answered the 
 squaw man. " I didn't know but he would remem- 
 ber where that money was hidden." 
 
 "That was a bright idea," exclaimed the trader. 
 "If he ever recalls the incidents of those days, it 
 won't be the money he will think of. It will be the 
 massacre of his father and his companions." 
 
 «Sh !" exclaimed the squaw maw, who was 
 
 greatly terrified by the mere mention of such a thing. 
 " Don't speak them words out loud." 
 
 " Well, I am telling you the truth, ain't I ? It is 
 the greatest wonder in the world that the whole 
 thing hasn't become known before this time. But 
 it is bound to come out, you may be sure of that. 
 Some day, when the Indians come to the agency to 
 draw their rations, some fool among them will jump 
 into the ring when they are having a dance, to boast 
 of the big things he has done in battle, and, before 
 anybody can stop him, he will tell the whole story 
 from beginning to end." 
 
 "Don't! " gasped the squaw man, leaning heavily 
 upon the counter, and casting frightened glances 
 into every corner of the dark store, as if momenta- 
 rily expecting to see some eavesdropper spring up 
 and confront him. "I don't like to hear sich words 
 as them, I tell you." 
 
 " I don't wonder at it," said the trader. " But you 
 have been trying to hide things from me, and I want 
 you to see that you can't do it. If I had been with 
 you when you killed those miners, and had stuck 
 close to Gilbert's side ever since, I could not under- 
 stand this matter better than I do now. Now look 
 here : If you want to drop Bob and take me in his 
 place, go and tell him to come here with those papers. 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 115 
 
 I don't care what kind of a story you have to make 
 up to induce him to do it, but bring him here." 
 
 So saying, the trader opened one of the doors, 
 and Grizzly Pete made all haste to retreat through 
 it. He was glad to get out into the open air. Cap- 
 tain Barton's words had vividly recalled to mind 
 some things that he had tried hard to forget, and he 
 was anxious to hide himself away in his tepee before 
 his countenance betrayed him. 
 
116 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 KNAVES IN COUNCIL. 
 
 " Or all the strange things that ever happenefl 
 since the world began, this is the strangest," solilo- 
 quized the trader, when he saw the squaw man 
 mount his pony and ride away. " So the secret, 
 which all the people about the post have for years 
 been trying to fathom, is out at last, and I've got it 
 in my keeping ! Something tells me that this busi- 
 ness had better be hurried up and got through with 
 before Arizona Charley and Gilbert return from the 
 Navajo nation ; for if it isn't, I don't believe it will 
 be done at all. If Gilbert isn't ready to spring 
 something on Pete and Bob the very minute he gets 
 back, I shall miss my guess. I wish I had thought 
 to take a copy of that smallest paper, so that I could 
 study on it between times. It's the queerest look- 
 ing writing I ever saw." 
 
 But as the trader had not thought to take a copy 
 of the important document, he was obliged to wait, 
 with as much patience as he could, till Grizzly Pete 
 came back with his partner. He had ample leisure 
 to think over the strange story to which he had lis- 
 tened, and to lay out plaus for the investment of his 
 share of the miner's treasure, for it was three days 
 before the squaw man made his appearance, in com- 
 pany with Buckskin Bob. Fortunately the trader 
 was alone, and Pete took the liberty to close and 
 lock the door. 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER." 117 
 
 " I had the hardest kind of work to get Bob to 
 come here with me," said the squaw man, beginning 
 the conversation before Captain Barton had time to 
 open his lips, " 'cause he thinks I am layin' a scheme 
 to come some kind of a trick onto him. I want you 
 to tell him jest what I said to you when I showed 
 you them papers t'other day. Did I say one word 
 about cheatin' Bob outen his shar' of them dust and 
 nuggets ? " 
 
 " You never so much as hinted at it," replied the 
 trader. 
 
 " How did I tell you that we come by them papers, 
 anyhow?" continued Grizzly Pete. "Didn't I say — ■ 
 arter you had told me that you knowed well enough 
 that the boy wasn't mine, an' that I needn't waste my 
 time tryin' to make you think so — didn't I own up 
 an' tell you the whole truth ? " 
 
 "You certainly did," answered Captain Barton; 
 and then he waited for the squaw man to go on and 
 say what he had told him. 
 
 "Didn't I say," continued Grizzly Pete, "that one 
 day when me an' Bob an' some of our Injuns was 
 out huntin', we heard a turrible whoopin' an' yellin' ; 
 that we run up to see what the matter was, an' found 
 that a lot of Cheyennes had surrounded a party of 
 miners, an' was a givin' of 'em particular iits? An' 
 didn't I tell you, furder, that we commenced a fight 
 with them Cheyennes that lasted two days, an' that 
 when we drove 'em off, we found that they had killed 
 eveiw one of them miners 'ceptin' one little boy, who 
 had them papers that I showed you, into his 
 pocket ? " 
 
 The trader was sharp enough to see at once why 
 the squaw man had cooked up this story. He wanted 
 his susjncious partner to believe that he had made 
 an honest effort to throw the blame for the mas.sacre 
 (if it should ever be found out) upon the shoulders 
 
118 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 of the Clieyennes, who were the Utes' hereditary 
 enemies. 
 
 There was little danger that the matter would be 
 traced home to members of the Ute tribe, because 
 the massacre took place so many years ago ; but if 
 it should be, there might be an investigation held 
 which would result in showing that Pete Axley and 
 his friend Bob were as deep in the mud as any of 
 the Indians were. This was what Captain Barton 
 told himself, as he unhesitatingly bore testimony to 
 the truthfulness of the squaw man's statement. 
 
 "The Cheyennes was to blame for the death of 
 them miners, an' not our Injuns," Grizzly Pete went 
 on, " an' that's what I told you. I said, f urder, that 
 the reason me an' Bob held fast to the boy was 
 'cause we thought he might be able to tell us some- 
 thing about the dust an' nuggets when he got 
 bigger, an' we might as well have it as anybody, 
 seein' that his paw was dead. An' I took him to the 
 colonel, so't the Injuns couldn't give him up as a 
 pris'ner if the}- took a notion to make a treaty of 
 any sort with the gov'munt. Is that so, cap'n?" 
 
 The trader said it was all so. 
 
 "I held out the idee that Gilbert was my boy," 
 said the squaw man, in conclusion, "'cause thai* 
 wasn't nobody about the agency to sw'ar he wasn't, 
 seein' that they didn't know w T ho or wdiat I was afore 
 I come yer. If any of the boy's folks had found out 
 whar he w r as, me an' Bob could have held out our 
 hands for the reward they would have been willin' 
 to pay to get him back, an' we'd a had the nuggets 
 an' dust, too, as soon as we found out whar they was 
 hid. I call it a good scheme, cap'n ; don't you?" 
 
 The trader nodded, whereupon Grizzly Pete turned 
 to his partner, and, hitting him a back handed blow 
 in the breast that would have floored an ordinary 
 man, said, triumphantly : 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 119 
 
 "Thar, now; I hope you're satisfied that I ain't 
 tryin' to come no tricks on yon, ain't you? " 
 
 Buckskin Bob replied that he was perfectly satis- 
 fied ; but his face told a different story. 
 
 "Wal, then," continued Grizzly Pete, "if you're 
 satisfied that I ain't tryin' to come no tricks on you 
 to cheat you out en your shar' of the stuff that's hid 
 in that canyon, pull out them dokyments so't the 
 cap'n can take a copy of 'em. Thar's mine," he 
 added, placing his own papers upon the counter in 
 front of the trader. 
 
 Buckskin Bob reluctantly complied, at the same 
 time remarking that he couldn't see why it was 
 necessary that the captain should have a copy of the 
 papers. If he could read them, what was the reason 
 he did not do it at once ? 
 
 " I've explained that to you more'n a hundred times 
 already," answered Pete, impatiently. " It's like 
 what we told the Injuns : the words that's writ onto 
 one of them papers is big medicine, that can't be read 
 as soon as you look at em. Ain't that so, cap'n? 
 Thar's a hidden meanin' to 'em that's got to be 
 studied out a letter at a time, an' the cap'n is the 
 only man on the reservation that can do it. Ain't 
 that so, cap'n ? " 
 
 " It is nothing but the truth," was the reply, " and 
 to prove it, I am willing that Bob should take a copy 
 of it to any officer or civilian about the post, and ask 
 him to make sense of it. I don't expect to do it my- 
 self under a week or two, and shall think myself 
 lucky if I work it out in that time. There's' one 
 question I forgot to ask you : have you made any 
 effort to find this treasure?" 
 
 "Wal, I reckon," replied Buckskin Bob. " Wouldn't 
 you have looked that canyon over a dozen time- if 
 you had known thar was a hundred thousand dollars' 
 wuth of nuggets an' dust somewheres in it? But 
 
120 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 our lookin' didn't do no good. The secret of it is 
 right in them thar words," added Bob, placing his 
 finger upon the cryptogram. " How much be we 
 goin to give you for readin' it for us ? " 
 
 "Whatever you please," added the trader, readily. 
 " But I shall earn a third of it before I am able to 
 tell you what is written on these papers." 
 
 He put the two pieces of the letter together and 
 read it very easily ; but the cryptogram bothered 
 him. He scratched his head in deep perplexity 
 while he looked at it. He had never seen or heard 
 of one before, and was utterly at a loss to know how 
 to go to work to solve it. The letter ran as follows : 
 
 Sweetwater Canyon, Aug. 16, 18—. 
 I started from the mines six weeks ago in company with my 
 little boy, Gilbert Hubbard Nevins, and seven men, whom I 
 thought to be my friends, to cross the plains on my way home. 
 My wife died almost a year ago, and I could not stay away 
 from my friends any longer. I lived in Clayton, Mass. I have 
 worked" hard, and saved nearly a hundred thousand dollars' 
 worth of dust and nuggets, and brought it with me on a pack 
 mule. Since I started I have grown suspicious of my compan- 
 ions, three of whom are none too good to knock me on the 
 head in order to obtain possession of my hard earned treasure. 
 I have begun to fear I shall never see the Stales alive ; and 
 this feeling has so worked upon me of late, that I decided to 
 cache my valuables, and have done so tonight while standing 
 guard, all my companions being asleep. If I fall bv the hands 
 of my associates, the inclosed cryptogram will tell the person 
 into whose possession it may fall, if he is smart enough to read 
 it, where my wealth may be found. I pray Heaven that it may 
 fall into the" hands of some honest man who will see that my 
 boy gets his rights. Gilbert Hubbard Nevins. 
 
 The letter was short and to the point, and the 
 trader thought it read as though it had been written 
 with an icicle. But the miner, writing in haste, and 
 in the midst of men whom he believed to be hostile 
 to him, had no time to indulge in sentiment. He left 
 that to the one who found his letter. 
 
 " Now thar's two things that I can't see into," said 
 Buckskin Bob, as the trader returned from the 
 back part of the store with writing materials in his 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPEK. 121 
 
 baud. " One is, why that man Nevins, if that's his 
 name, put them papers into Gilbert's pocket. How 
 did he know that the boy wouldn't be killed as well 
 as himself ? " 
 
 "He didn't know it," replied Captain Barton. 
 " He took his chauces on it. That was all he could 
 do. You wouldn't have had him put the papers into 
 the cache with the nuggets, would you ? If he had 
 done that, you never would have found them." 
 
 " That's so," said Bob, thoughtfully. " But still he 
 might as well have done it, as to go to work an' kiver 
 up the hidin' place of his money in sich words as them 
 he has put into that smallest paper. That's the other 
 thing I can't see into." 
 
 The trader said he couldn't see into it either; and 
 then he told himself, confidentially, that he had a 
 pretty clear idea of the object he had in view when 
 he wrote the thing he called a cryptogram. 
 
 Mr. Nevins of course knew that his companions 
 would not take time to study it out, and that no ig- 
 norant person could do it. His only hope was that, 
 if anything happened to himself, his bo}', as well as 
 the papers that were sewed fast in his pocket, would 
 fall into the hands of some army officer who would 
 take interest enough in the matter to work out the 
 cryptogram, hunt up the buried treasure, and see that 
 Gilbert was established in his rights. 
 
 If his fears proved to be unfounded, if he reached 
 the States alive and unharmed, he could take his boy 
 home, come back to Sweetwater Canyon, and the 
 cryptogram would guide him to the place where his 
 nuggets were concealed. 
 
 Captain Barton made careful copies of both the 
 letter and the cryptogram, returned the papers to 
 the squaw men, gave each of them a cigar, and saw 
 them ride away toward their tepees. Then ho set 
 himself to the hardest task he had ever undertaken. 
 
122 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 Half a dozen words from any bright schoolboy would 
 have put him on the right track at once ; but not 
 knowing where to begin, he was as helpless as one 
 who canuot swim is in deep water. 
 
 Days grew into weeks and weeks into months, and 
 Captain Barton made no progress whatever with his 
 work ; but he succeeded in arousing the ire as well 
 as the suspicions of Pete Axley and his friend, Buck- 
 skin Bob, who told each other that their new ally 
 was up to something. 
 
 " I'll tell you what his game is," said Pete one day, 
 after the trader had assured them that he was work- 
 ing hard, but to no purpose, to get at the bottom of 
 the mystery. " He is layin' a scheme to get the last 
 one of them nuggets an' all the dust for himself. I'll 
 bet you he knows what's writ onto that little paper 
 afore this time, but he's holdin' of it back from us ; 
 an' when the time comes for a new trader to take his 
 place, then Cap'n Barton will toddle out to that 
 canyon, dig up them nuggets an' put for the States." 
 
 " No, he won't," answered Bob, " cause then we'll 
 pop him over so easy that he'll never know what hurt 
 him. I didn't go in for givin' nobody a copy of them 
 papers, an' I told you so." 
 
 " \Val, the cap'n dassent tell nobody of it, 'cause 
 if he does, we'll take pains to see that the marshal 
 hears about them hoss trades of his'n. The papers 
 wasn't no good to us, an' I hoped the trader would 
 be able to read 'em for us. I say ag'in that I think 
 he has done it, but that he don't mean to let me an' 
 you get no benefit from it." 
 
 But the squaw men were mistaken ; they wronged 
 the trader. I do not mean to say that Captain Bar- 
 ton would not have appropriated the entire contents 
 of the cache to his own use, if he could have seen any 
 way to do it without risk to himself ; but he couldn't. 
 He worked hard and faithfully at the cryptogram, 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 123 
 
 and with no thought of attempting a fraud upon the 
 squaw men, but the writing defied all his efforts. It 
 kept the secret that had been confided to it. 
 
 At the end of six months Captain Barton became 
 quite disgusted with his failure to solve the crypto- 
 gram, banged the lid of his desk upon it and the 
 letter, and nearly got himself into serious trouble 
 with Pete Axley by denouncing him and his partner 
 as frauds of the worst sort. He told them that there 
 was not a word of truth in their story, that they had 
 deliberately deceived him, and that they and Gilbert 
 and the nuggets and everything else that was in the 
 cache might go to Guinea together, before he would 
 bother his head about them any more. 
 
 Of course this made Grizzly Pete and Buckskin 
 Bob desperately angry, but they did not " boycott " 
 the trader on account of it, for his store was too 
 good a loafing place, and there was no one else about 
 there who would trust them for tobacco. They hung 
 around him just as they had always done, hoping al- 
 most against hope that some fine day something 
 would " turn up " in their favor, and they often sur- 
 prised Captain Barton with a pencil in his hand and 
 a piece of paper before him, working upon the cryp- 
 togram. This always encouraged them, for it proved 
 that the trader still clung to the idea that he could 
 probe the mystery to the bottom. 
 
 Three years passed away, and during that time all 
 the officers of the garrison who were stationed there 
 when Gilbert the trapper went to the Navajo nation, 
 had been ordered to other posts, many of the old 
 government scouts had disappeared, but Captain 
 Barton and the squaw men still remained. 
 
 One da} r , while the store, as usual, was full of 
 hangers on, the express rider emplo3*ed to carry 
 the mail once a week between the agency and Ma- 
 rengo, reported that on his way up he had passed a 
 
124 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 heavily loaded mule train, which was heading toward 
 Fort Shaw. 
 
 " I didn't know any of them," said the rider, " but 
 the head man told me that he belonged here ; that 
 this reservation is the only home he has now, though 
 he used to have another down in Californy. He 
 ain't nothing but a brat of a boy, but he's light- 
 ning. He's been down to the Navajo nation trading, 
 and since he's been gone he's lost his partner, Ari- 
 zona Charley, and picked up another that ain't no 
 slouch, if there's any faith to be put in looks. Know 
 him, any of you ? M 
 
 Yes, there were three men who recognized Gil- 
 bert the trapper in this meager description of the 
 " head man " of the train, but they were so surprised 
 to hear this sudden and unexpected announcement 
 of his return to the agency, that for a moment or 
 two they could not reply to the express rider's ques- 
 tion. 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 125 
 
 CHAPTER XYI1I. 
 
 GILBERT SURPRISES THE SQUAW ilEN. 
 
 During the three years that Gilbert the trapper 
 had been absent from the reservation he had never 
 once been forgotten by the men who were interested 
 in him and his fortunes ; but he had been so long- 
 away that they began to fear they should not hear 
 from him again. 
 
 Since Grizzly Pete took Captain Barton into his 
 confidence, the trader had been impatient for the 
 wanderer's return ; but the knowledge, so unexpect- 
 edly conveyed to him, that Gilbert was within a short 
 distance of the post and making his way toward it, 
 almost took his breath away. His old fear that Gil- 
 bert might " spring something " on the man who 
 claimed to be his father, came back to him wdth re- 
 doubled force. 
 
 There was another thing that caused Captain Bar- 
 ton no little uneasiness — a question that forced itself 
 upon him and demanded an immediate answer : how 
 should he advise Grizzly Pete to conduct himself in 
 the boy's presence ? Ought he to keep silent, or 
 w r ould it be better for him to walk boldly up and 
 claim relationship? 
 
 This question bothered Pete and Bob also ; but 
 there was another that they considered to be of in- 
 finitely more importance to them : who was the new 
 partner that Gilbert had picked up to fill Arizona 
 
126 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 Charley's place, and who was unknown to the ex- 
 press rider ? 
 
 When Grizzly Pete told the trader that the Utes 
 had made an end of every one of the miners who 
 belonged to Mr. Nevins's party, he came nearer to 
 the truth than he usually did in telling a story ; 
 but he did not know how to describe anything just 
 as it happened. He had to keep back something 
 in one place and add something in another in order 
 to make his narrative suit him. 
 
 The party were not all killed, and Pete and Bob 
 knew it well enough. Their guide, a noted scout 
 and trapper, was shot down while in the act of rid- 
 ing away with Mr. Nevins's little boy in his arms ; 
 but, severely wounded as he was, he managed to get 
 into his saddle again and continue his flight ; but he 
 left his burden behind him. 
 
 That was the way that Gilbert the trapper came 
 to fall into the power of the two squaw men. There 
 w r as not a member of the Cheyenne tribe within a 
 hundred miles of the battle field. 
 
 Pete and Bob were not likely to forget how hard 
 they had tried to kill or capture that man, who was 
 well known to both of them. They felt the greatest 
 uneasiness every time they thought of him. It is 
 true that they had neither seen nor heard of him 
 since the day on which the fight took place, but 
 that was no proof that he had not got safely away 
 with a secret in his possession which, if noised 
 abroad, would put a rope around Pete's neck and 
 Bob's in short order. 
 
 On the afternoon of the second day after the ex- 
 press rider's visit, Gilbert and his train came within 
 sight of the post. 
 
 The news of his coming had been noised abroad, 
 and the store was packed with squaw men, Indians, 
 soldiers and scouts, who were waiting for him. The 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 127 
 
 arrival of a party of strangers, or even of one 
 stranger, was regarded as an event of some conse- 
 quence. It was nothing new or novel, but, unless 
 the Indians were troublesome, the life the agency 
 people were compelled to lead was so very monoto- 
 nous, that anything out of the usual line, no matter 
 how trivial it might be, that would furnish them 
 fresh topics for an hour's conversation was gladly 
 welcomed. 
 
 Gilbert the trapper, who was riding alone at the 
 head of his train, dismounted in front of the trader's 
 door, and the latter pressed forward to take a look 
 at him, Grizzly Pete and his jDartner keeping in the 
 background. 
 
 The trader did not know Gilbert as long as the 
 boy kept his back toward him, but the moment he 
 turned his face to the door he recognized him. He 
 drew back and whispered to Pete, 
 
 " That's your boy, if I ever saw him," said he ; 
 " but don't you go to raising a fuss with him, for 
 he's as big as you are. He has come back rich. He 
 doesn't need any of the fortune that is hidden in 
 Sweetwater Canyon." 
 
 " Then I wish he would give it to them that does 
 need it," said the squaw man, in the same suppressed 
 whisper. " See anything of his partner ? That's 
 the feller me an' Bob want to see most." 
 
 Before the trader could answer, the crowd in the 
 doorway parted right and left and Gilbert came in. 
 The squaw men sullenly stood their ground, while 
 the trader could scarcely have been more obsequi- 
 ous if he had been receiving one of the Commissioners 
 of Indian Affairs. He was angry at himself for ex- 
 hibiting so much nervousness in the presence of this 
 sixteen year old boy, but he could not help it. How- 
 ever, Gilbert's first words put him quite at his ease. 
 
 " Is it possible that I have changed so much in 
 
128 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 three years that you do not recognize nie, Captain 
 Barton ? " said he. Then, to the great amazement 
 of everybody, including the express rider who had 
 brought the news of his coming, Gilbert turned and 
 extended his hands to the squaw men. " You are 
 Grizzly Pete, and you are Buckskin Bob, the men 
 who saved my life years ago," he went on. "I should 
 have thanked you for it long before this time, but I 
 didn't know anything about it until I had been ab- 
 sent from the agency more than a year, and then 
 Arizona Charley told ine." 
 
 This speech struck every one dumb. The trader 
 opened his mouth and eyes, and looked first at the 
 squaw men and then at Gilbert. The former were 
 almost overwhelmed with surprise and terror, while 
 the expression on the boy's face was a curious mix- 
 ture of triumph, satisfaction and anger. 
 
 " Didn't I say that if he didn't spring something 
 on those two men when he came back I should miss 
 my guess ? " thought Captain Barton, turning to his 
 counter and pretending to arrange something there, 
 so that the expression of his own face might not be 
 seen. " I tell you our game is blocked; the boy has 
 got the thing in his own hands. He'll pocket the 
 treasure to which he is heir, and Pete and Bob are 
 as good as hanged this minute." 
 
 " Why, how — where — did Arizona Charley find out 
 anything about it ? " stammered Grizzly Pete, look- 
 ing very unlike the desperate fellow he was anxious 
 to have every one think he was. " Charley wasn't 
 thar or tharabouts, was he ? " 
 
 "No; but Josh Saunders was there, and he told 
 Charley all about it." 
 
 Grizzly Pete's face was a sight to behold, while 
 Buckskin Bob was almost ready to drop. Josh Saun- 
 ders was the very man they were afraid of. 
 
 Was he still alive, and did he know where Pete 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 129 
 
 and Bob were ? These were the questions they 
 wanted to ask Gilbert, but their lips refused to 
 frame the words. 
 
 "Yes; Josh Saunders told Arizona Charley all 
 about it," continued the young trapper; and out of 
 the corner of his eye the trader could see that he 
 kept his searching gaze fastened upon the two squaw 
 men, and that he was closely watching the effect of 
 his words. " You see Josh was guide to the party 
 to which my father belonged, and after the Indians 
 killed all the miners, Josh jumped on his pony and 
 tried to carry me away to a place of safety; but a 
 bullet knocked him out of his saddle, and he had to 
 let me drop." 
 
 " Whar — whar's Josh now ? " Buckskin Bob man- 
 aged to ask. 
 
 " I don't know where he is," was the reply, and it 
 made Bob and his partner breathe a great 'deal 
 easier. 
 
 " Who's your new r comrade ? " was Bob's next ques- 
 tion. 
 
 "He calls himself Texas Tim," answered Gilbert 
 "I paid him off about twenty miles back and let 
 him go. He wouldn't come to the agency, He said 
 there were people here whom he didn't care to see." 
 
 " He's been a doin' of something back in the set- 
 tlements, most likely," observed Grizzly Pete. 
 
 "I didn't ask him about that. I engaged him to 
 show me the way up here, and he performed his woi k 
 to my entire satisfaction. Well, Captain Barton, 
 what do you say ? " exclaimed Gilbert, stepping up 
 to the trader and ta£>ping him on the shoulder. " I 
 am after money; I'll not take a cent's worth in bar- 
 ter." 
 
 " Oh, shucks ! " replied the captain. " I can't give 
 you money. I haven't got it. Besides, what do you 
 want with money in this country? You couldn't 
 
130 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 keep it, for somebody would hold you up aud take 
 it away from you." 
 
 "I will risk that," said Gilbert, with a laugh. 
 " Of course, if you haven't got any money, we can't 
 trade; and as the law will not permit me to sell my 
 goods to anybody but you on this reservation, I shall 
 have to go elsewhere." 
 
 " Where are you going ? " exclaimed Captain Bar- 
 ton, when the boy moved toward the door. 
 
 " I don't know, and I don't much care. I've plenty 
 of time at my disposal. I shall keep going until I 
 find a cash customer, if I have to go clear to St. 
 Louis." 
 
 This did not by any means suit Captain Barton, 
 who knew that most of the goods that came from 
 the Navajo nation, especially the blankets, com- 
 manded a ready sale at figures that would yield him 
 a big profit. The gaudy colors of the blankets never 
 failed to attract the eye of the Indian, who would 
 give anywhere from two to half a dozen ponies for a 
 pair of them, according to his wealth; and if you call 
 the ponies worth twenty to forty dollars each, yoa 
 can easily figure up what the blankets would bring. 
 
 With some such thoughts as these in his mind, 
 Captain Barton beckoned Gilbert to the back part of 
 the store, and held an earnest conversation with him. 
 The boy was not so hard to please as the trader 
 thought he was going to be, and the result was that 
 in less than in five minutes the store had been cleared 
 of every one of the loafers, and Gilbert's men were 
 busy unloading the mules and carrying in the 
 goods. 
 
 At the end of two hours he had sold the trader 
 everything he had, mules, pack saddles and all, re- 
 serving only his riding horse and weapons, paid off 
 his hands, and disappeared down the trail he had 
 followed in coming to the agency. When he was 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 131 
 
 out of sight the trader opened the door and admitted 
 Grizzly Pete and Buckskin Bob. 
 
 "What took Lira awa}' in sick a hurry?" inquired 
 the former, whose face had not yet resumed its nat- 
 ural color. "Thar's something about this whole 
 business that makes me feel all over as if a feller 
 had come up behind me an' dropped a piece of the 
 coldest kiud of ice down my jacket." 
 
 " I don't feel just right myself," said the trader, 
 " although I don't know why I should be afraid. 
 There's a present he left for you two," he added, 
 placing his hand upon two pairs of blankets that 
 were lying on the counter. 
 
 " I wouldn't tech 'em for no money in this wide 
 world," exclaimed Pete, seizing the arm that Bob 
 had thrust out toward the articles in question. 
 "Don't you see what color they are ? " 
 
 " What is the matter with their color ? " asked 
 Captain Barton. " The}' are a deep red, like a good 
 man}' others I purchased from him; but that's just 
 the sort to take an Indian's eye." 
 
 " That's 'cause an Injun likes blood, an' I don't," 
 said Pete, with a shiver. " TVhat'll you give me for 
 mine ? " 
 
 "Oh, that is what troubles you, is it? Well, I 
 don't w r onder at it. I will give you the value of 
 two ponies for them. Is it a bargain ? " 
 
 " Say four, an' take 'em along. You know you 
 will never sell 'em for less'n six." 
 
 "I don't know anything of the sort/' replied the 
 trader, who was sure that he would get the blankets 
 at his own valuation. " Two is as high as 1 can 
 afford to go." 
 
 The squaw man, knowing by experience that Cap- 
 tain Barton meant just what he said, gruffly told him 
 to "take 'em"; and then announced that he was 
 ready to hear what Gilbert had to say for himself. 
 
132 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 " He didn't say one word," replied the trader, in a 
 disappointed tone. " I tried to pump him, but he 
 wouldn't be pumped. He talked business and noth- 
 ing else." 
 
 " Do you know whar he is gone ? He was a lum- 
 berin', the last glimpse I ketched of him as he went 
 over the swell. I don't reckon that thar's a hoss 
 about the agency that could a' kept up with him." 
 
 " I don't know anything about it," repeated Cap- 
 tain Barton, " but I have my suspicions. He has 
 come back after the property he is left heir to, and 
 he is going to get it." 
 
 " That's what I suspicioned myself," said Bob. 
 "Do you reckon he remembers anything about it? " 
 
 The trader uttered an exclamation of impatience 
 and said : " Of course not. He was too young to 
 remember anything at the time his father was killed." 
 
 " I'd like to know who that new pardner of his'n 
 is," said Grizzly Pete, " an I don't reckon I shall 
 sleep sound till I find out. It's mighty botherin' to 
 a feller to have something hangin' over him all the 
 time, when he don't know what it is or when it's 
 goin' to drop on him." 
 
 " I could see by the way he glared at you while 
 he was talking to you about Josh Saunders, that he's 
 got the dead wood on you in some manner," said the 
 trader, cheerfully. "It is my opinion that Josh 
 Saunders and Texas Tim, who guided him from the 
 Navajo country up here, are one and the same." 
 
 " No ! " exclaimed Pete ami Bob, in a breath. 
 " What did he say had become of Arizona Charley, 
 any way ? " 
 
 " I don't remember that he said much of anything 
 about him," answered Captain Barton. " He simply 
 mentioned the fact that Arizona Charley gave him 
 the history of the killing of the miners which he 
 had heard from Josh Saunders. Now, who is Josh 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 133 
 
 Saunders? Was he guide for those miners, and did 
 he get away? That's one thing you kept from me 
 when you pretended to tell me your story. If Josh 
 and Texas Tim are the same, then you are in a ba 1 
 box. Now stand back. I am going to open the 
 doors and sell some of these blankets before I go to 
 supper." 
 
 " TThar do you reckon Gilbert went in sich a 
 hurry. Bob?" inquired Grizzly Pete, as he and his 
 partner sullenly obeyed the order to "stand back." 
 "Did he take to the mountings with the money the 
 cap'n paid him, to look up that guide of his'n ? If 
 he done that, we've got secret enemies to deal with 
 from this time on. They'll dig up every foot of 
 Sweetwater Canyon on both sides, for miles back ; 
 see if they don't." 
 
 " Haven't me an' you done jest that very thing, 
 an' did we find a single nugget to pay us for it?" 
 growled Bob. " Let 'em dig, if they want to. I 
 wish we could toiler him up an' get the money he's 
 got about his clothes." 
 
 " I was thinkin' about that myself," readied Pete. 
 "If it hadn't been for Josh an' Arizona Charley, I 
 could have made Gilbert acknowledge me as his 
 paw, an' then he'd have had to hand over jest as 
 much of that money as I had a mind to ask for, 
 'cordin' to law. But them two fellers went an' told 
 him how the thing stands between him an' me, an' 
 now, if I try to make him believe that I'm any rela- 
 tion to him, he'll laugh at me. Bob, we made a big 
 mistake in lettin' that guide get away." 
 
 "I have know'd l.*at all along, but we couldn't 
 help it. I have been lookin' for him t^ tell on us, 
 an', since he is alive, I don't see why he ain't dono it 
 long ago. I tell you, Pete, I have the best notion 
 in the world to cl'ar out from here. All them thing 
 that happened so many years ago that we thoii{ 
 
134 GILBEKT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 they wouldn't never be heard of again, are comin' 
 up to b'ar witness agin' us. I felt it in my bones 
 from the very start that we wouldn't never see any 
 of them nuggets an' dust, an' now I'm sure of it. 
 What do you reckon it was that made Gilbert step 
 up so brash an' tell us that we was the fellers that 
 saved his life ?" 
 
 The squaw man confessed that he was quite at a 
 loss how to account for that, and he had so many 
 other things in his mind that he forgot to speak to 
 the trader about it. 
 
 " Thar's one thing about it," continued Pete, in a 
 savage whisper. " Me an' you ain't a goin' to let no 
 marshal hang us to a tree for what was done to them 
 miners. I am powerful sorry now, when it is too 
 late, that we saved that boy's life an' let Josh get 
 away, but it can't be helped. I'm goin' to keep 
 away from the post, an' sleep with both eyes open 
 arter this ; an' if we see or hear anything goin' on 
 about us, we'll get the Injuns together, an' egg 'em 
 on to do some killin' an' scalpin'. Eh ? Don't you 
 reckon they'd best let me an' you alone ? " 
 
 Buckskin Bob grinned, and then the two worthies 
 relapsed into silence, and, leaning against the 
 counter, watched the Indians as they came trooping 
 into the store with their arms filled with dressed 
 skins wdiich they were anxious to barter for the 
 trader's Navajo blankets. 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 135 
 
 CHAPTEK XIX. 
 
 JOSH SAUNDERS. 
 
 iC I am satisfied now that you knew what you were 
 talking about when you told Arizona Charlev that 
 Grizzly Pete and Buckskin Bob were present when 
 ray father and the miners who were with him were 
 murdered by the Indians. You ought to have seen 
 their eyes stick out when I called them by name, and 
 told them that I should have been glad to thank them 
 long ago for saving my life, if I had only known 
 about it," 
 
 It was Gilbert the trapper who said this. He was 
 sitting with his elbows resting on his knees and his 
 eyes fastened upon the glowing camp fire in front of 
 him, and his words were addressed to his comrade 
 and friend, who lay at his ease on his blanket, smok- 
 ing his after supper pipe. 
 
 If Pete and Bob could have taken one glance at 
 that camp and its occupants they would have seen 
 that the fears that had so long haunted them were 
 by no means groundless, and that the post trader 
 had hit the nail fairly on the head when he declared 
 that Josh Saunders and Texas Tim were the same 
 man. 
 
 Josh told the truth when he said he would not go 
 to the agency for the reason that there were some 
 men there he did not care to see, but it was not be- 
 cause he had " been a doing of something back in 
 
136 GILBERT THE TEAPP2E. 
 
 the settlements," as Pete Axley affirmed. It was be- 
 cause he had sworn to shoot the two squaw men the 
 first time he came face to face with them, and he did 
 not want to do that until a certain mystery which 
 hung over Gilbert's past life had been cleared up. 
 
 During his lifetime Arizona Charley had held 
 firmly to the belief that Pete and Bob could* tell a 
 good deal about Gilbert if they felt disposed to do 
 so. The boy himself was of the same opinion, and 
 Josh was willing to bide his time. 
 
 " It don't stand to reason that any man who has 
 his senses about him would start out on a trip across 
 the plains with a brat of a boy with him, and get 
 himself killed, without leaving some papers some- 
 where to tell who that boy was, and whether or not 
 he had anything in the way of money or property 
 coming to him," Charley often declared, with a know- 
 ing look in his eye. "Now, if there was any papers 
 of that kind in the camp when the Injuns killed Mr. 
 Nevins's party, who's got 'em, if Pete and Bob ain't? 
 The Injuns, in course, wouldn't take two looks at 
 anything that had writing onto it, but Pete would, 
 and if he ain't got something of that kind, what was 
 the reason that he was so careful to tell Colonel 
 Starke that the boy wasn't to be sent off the reserva- 
 tion ? But if he has got any papers," Charley always 
 added, with a desponding shake of his head, " why 
 hasn't he used 'em before this time ? " 
 
 When Charley met his old friend, Josh Saunders, 
 down in the Navajo country, he thought the mystery 
 would be cleared up at once ; but unfortunately it 
 wasn't. All Josh could tell him was that Gilbert's 
 . father had " a good deal of plunder with him ; " that 
 he seemed suspicious of his companions ; and that 
 he was killed when the rest of the miners were. Jf 
 Pete Axley had any papers in his possession it was 
 probable that he could not read them, and that lie 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 137 
 
 was waiting for Gilbert to grow up and read them 
 
 for him. , ,,. 
 
 Gilbert himself laughed at the idea of such a thing 
 at first, but after he had held a few interviews with 
 Buckskin Bob (for some reason or other Grizzly Pete 
 thought it best to keep in the background), he be- 
 gan to think that there might be something m it. 
 
 "I found the squaw men waiting in Captain Bar- 
 ton's store with a crowd of other loafers,'' continued 
 Gilbert to his companion, Josh Saunders. " I shook 
 hands with them, thanked them for what they had 
 done for me, and all the while it was all I could do 
 to keep from denouncing them as my father's mur- 
 
 derers. 
 
 " You didn't acknowledge Pete as your pap ? " said 
 
 Josh. tt t i 
 
 Gilbert looked at him without speaking. He did 
 not think it necessary to answer the question. 
 
 " Didn't Bob once tell you that you had better 
 claim the relationship, for fear that Pete might shoot 
 you if you didn't? " continued the scout. 
 " " That is just what he said to me," replied Gilbert, 
 " and I followed Charley's advice and put him off 
 with promises. I said if Pete Axley could prove he 
 was my father, of course I should recognize him as 
 such ; but I knew he couldn't do it. I can remember 
 when my father was killed, as well as though it hap- 
 pened only yesterday. I know just how he looked, 
 too ; and I could pick out his picture among a thou- 
 sand." 
 
 " Well, now, how are you goin' to find out whether 
 or not Pete an' Bob have got any papers that belong 
 to you by rights ? " inquired Josh. " You have satis- 
 fied yourself that they was around when them miners 
 was "killed, an' now comes the hardest move of all. 
 You don't want to make a move until you are sure of 
 your ground, for if you do, you will put them on 
 
138 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 their guard. Then they will destroy the docky- 
 ments, an' leave you all at sea." 
 
 Josh had more than once asked this question be- 
 fore, and it was one that always put Gilbert into a 
 brown study. 
 
 "I am no nearer seeing my way out of the diffi- 
 culty than I was on the day I first met you," said he. 
 " The only thing I can do is to hang around the 
 agency and trust to luck." 
 
 ""Well, you know I can't go there without keepin' 
 my promise to shoot Pete and Bob ; an' if I do that, 
 you won't never get your papers, if they've got any 
 that belongs to you." 
 
 "No : you must not lift a hand against either of 
 those men until this matter is settled," said Gilbert, 
 decidedly. " If you do, } r ou will knock all my hopes 
 higher than a kite. We will loaf around in the 
 mountains and pretend that we are trapping for a 
 livelihood, and whenever we need any supplies I will 
 dig up a few dollars and go to the post after them." 
 
 This would seem to imply that the boy had already 
 cached the money he had received from Captain Bar- 
 ton for his goods. 
 
 Well, he had. It was buried under an overhang- 
 ing cliff, a short distance from the place where they 
 had camped for the night. It was their joint prop- 
 erty, and if they should lose their lives together, 
 there was no probability that it would ever do an} r 
 one any good, for there were no papers to tell where 
 it was concealed. 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 139 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 THE OUTBREAK. 
 
 Gilbert's programme was duly carried out, but not 
 just as Josh aud he bad thought it would be. Al- 
 though the Indians on that reservation were com- 
 paratively quiet, the plains tribes were very discon- 
 tented, and there were threats of a general uprising 
 among them. As fast as the different bands broke 
 away from their agencies, the troops followed and 
 drove them back again, but not until they had com- 
 mitted outrages that were enough to set the whole 
 country in arms against them. 
 
 Of course Josh Saunders, with all his bitter enmity 
 towards everything that bore the slightest resem- 
 blance to an Indian, could not remain idle in the 
 mountaius while there was any fighting going on, 
 and Gilbert had sworn to stand by him in any and 
 every danger. Consequently, the two were always 
 foremost in every scout that took place. 
 
 They went as volunteers, drew no pay from the 
 government, and fought side by side with the sol- 
 diers, who first admired them for their bravery, and 
 soon learn to trust them for their unswerving 
 fidelity. Unlike the cowboys, they obeyed orders ; 
 and this attracted the attention of the commanding 
 officers, who frequently sent them off on detached 
 service calling for the greatest courage, skill, and 
 j udgment. 
 
 Gilbert the trapper was followed by admiring eyes 
 
140 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 wherever lie went, and it was no wonder that the 
 young lieutenants, to quote from one of them, "fell 
 in love with him." 
 
 He was a daring and graceful rider, a dead shot, 
 had never been known to flinch under the hottest 
 fire, and there wasn't anything he would not do for 
 the members of the command with which he hap- 
 pened to be, with one single exception. He would 
 not say a word about himself, and the most skillful 
 questioning could not draw from him even a hint of 
 his past life. There were many rumors floating 
 about, and with these the inquisitive young officers 
 were obliged to be satisfied. 
 
 Josh Saunders could not be " pumped," either in 
 regard to himself or Gilbert, and there was not a 
 single scout who could say that he had ever seen 
 him before. Of course they knew that he had been 
 through the region more than once, because he was 
 acquainted with every trail and canyon in it ; but 
 that was as far as their knowledge of him went, and 
 Josh would not enlighten them any more than Gil- 
 bert would those who questioned him. 
 
 He always went by the name of Texas Tim. If 
 Grizzly Pete and Buckskin Bob could have seen him, 
 the}'- would, no doubt, have recognized him at once, 
 in spite of the changes that years had made in him ; 
 but if the squaw men were ever in action with Gil- 
 bert and Josh, they were fighting against them and 
 not with them. 
 
 " It wouldn't be a very bright trick on my part to 
 tell these soldiers an' scouts who an' what I am," 
 Josh once said to Gilbert when they were alone. 
 " As long as you hold to Arizona's notion, that Pete 
 and his pardner have got some papers that rightfully 
 belong to you, jest so long I must hide myself under 
 a name that ain't mine ; 'cause if Pete and Bob 
 should find out that I am hangin' around, they'd 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 141 
 
 make themselves scarce ; an' that would be the end 
 of the whole business." 
 
 That would have been a calamity indeed ; and it 
 was the only reason why Josh was so uncommuni- 
 cative. 
 
 In scouting, fighting the Indians, and doing noth- 
 ing, Gilbert the trapper and Josh Saunders passed 
 two very uncomfortable years. 
 
 ' Josh was impatiently longing for the time when he 
 could take vengeance upon the squaw men for kill- 
 ing the miners and trying to kill himself, and Gil- 
 bert was waiting for chance (he did not know what 
 else to depend on) to open the way for him to ascer- 
 tain whether or not Pete and Bob had any papers 
 that would give him a clew to his identity, and tell 
 what had become of the "plunder" which Josh often 
 declared Mr. Xevins had in his pack saddle. 
 
 If his father had made a cache of his valuables, as 
 J<>sh seemed to think he had, Gilbert would gladly 
 have given them all to know if he had any relatives 
 living, and where they might be found. 
 
 This was somethiug that hung over Gilbert like a 
 nightmare. It weighed upon him so heavily that he 
 hardly dared to think of it, for fear that he should 
 go crazy. 
 
 But at last chance (it did not seem to be anything 
 else) favored him. The Utes learned, through some 
 of their scouts, that there was a hunting party of 
 Cheyenne» but a short distance away, and that they 
 had many fine horses with them. They had a small 
 escort of troops, too, and that proved that they were 
 absent from their reservation with their agent's con- 
 sent ; but that did not deter the Utes, who, depend- 
 ing upon strategy and celerity of movement, hoped 
 to capture those horses and make good their retreat 
 with them, before the soldiers knew that the Chey- 
 ennes w^ere in any danger of an attack. 
 
142 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 Some of the young and ambitious members of the 
 tribe held a dance (an Indian never does anything 
 without having a dance before and after it), boasted 
 loudly of the desperate deeds of valor they meant to 
 perform when they met the Cheyennes, and when 
 darkness came to conceal their movements, they stole 
 away in search of plunder and scalps. 
 
 They found the Cheyennes, but they did not suc- 
 ceed in stealing the horses. They met with a crush- 
 ing defeat at the hands of their hereditary enemies. 
 But they could not think of returning to their homes 
 empty handed. They must have something to show 
 as proof of their prowess, and to obtain it they at- 
 tacked Mr. Wilson's ranch. 
 
 They succeeded in burning his house and breaking 
 his furniture ; but when they got through with it 
 there were not as many of them as there were when 
 they made the attack. The ranchman and his cow- 
 boys made a desperate fight, hoping to reach the 
 house and save the two little children left alone 
 there ; but the savages, divining their intention, cut 
 them off from all the buildings, and forced them to 
 seek safety in flight. 
 
 Now it so happened that Gilbert the trapper wit- 
 nessed the closing of that fight. He was on his way 
 to the lower agency to obtain a supply of provisions, 
 and came within sight of the ranch in time to see 
 Mr. Wilson and his men falling back before the 
 Indians. 
 
 His first thought was to join the cowboys, and do 
 what he could to help them ; his next was to make 
 the best of his wav to Fort Shaw, and tell the com- 
 manding officer what he had seen. Beyond a doubt 
 this was the uprising that had so long been 
 threatened ; and the commandant ought to know of 
 it before the Utes had opportunity to attack any more 
 defenseless ranches. 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 143 
 
 Having decided upon Lis course, Gilbert rode for 
 the fort at the top of his speed ; but fast as be went, 
 the runnel's sent out by the hostiles went faster. 
 
 They reached the agency before he did, incited 
 their friends to join them on the war path, and assist 
 in avenging the lives of the comrades who had fallen 
 in battle, and instead of being able to send troops to 
 the assistance of those that would probably be or- 
 dered out from Fort Lewis, the commander of Fort 
 Shaw found that he would have as much as he could 
 do to look after his own Indians. 
 
 Before daylight the next morning a hundred young 
 bucks had slipped away, and gone to join the hos- 
 tiles. These formed the raiding party of which 
 Major Payne was sent in pursuit, and Gilbert went 
 w r ith him as volunteer scout. 
 
 Before the command had inarched a dozen miles 
 it w T as met by Josh Saunders, who was at once intro- 
 duced to the major as a scout who knew all about 
 those mountains, and could not be beaten at follow- 
 ing a trail. The major was glad to accept his prof- 
 fered services, and Josh w T as ordered to put himself 
 at the head of the column and lead it forward as 
 rapidly as the nature of the ground would permit. 
 
 " "What in the world brought you out here ? " de- 
 manded Gilbert, as he and his friend rode on alone. 
 " I thought I left you in camp, twenty miles back in 
 the mountains." 
 
 " Is this the way you go to Fort Shaw after grub ? " 
 asked the scout, in reply. "I was lookin' for bacon 
 an' hardtack, an' you bring me a lot of blue coats in- 
 stead. Haven't I told you more'n once that I can 
 smell an Injun when he's on the war trail furder'n I 
 can see him ? It's the paint he has on him, most 
 likely, an' that's what brung me out. I wanted to 
 see what had become of you." 
 
 Up to this time luck had been on Gilbert's side 
 

 H4 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 and Josh's, for they had never received so much as a 
 scratch in any of the fights in which they had taken 
 part ; but now their luck changed, or rather Josh's 
 did. 
 
 After a seventeen hours' flight the Utes made a 
 stand, and, during the skirmish that followed, the 
 scout received a wound that placed him under the 
 surgeon's care ; so that when Major Payne desired 
 to communicate with Captain Brent, who was fight- 
 ing the Indians in the other end of the canyon, Josh 
 was not able to carry the letter, and Gilbert was 
 selected in his stead. 
 
 Having hunted and trapped through those very 
 mountains, in company with Arizona Charley, almost 
 ever since he w^as strong enough to carry a rifle, 
 Gilbert might be supposed to be tolerably familiar 
 with all their numerous gullies and divides. Being- 
 versed in Indian cunning as well, he was probably 
 the best one in the command that could have been 
 detailed to take Josh Saunders's place ; but it was 
 not without the greatest danger and difficulty that 
 he finally succeeded in making his way to Captain 
 Brent's command. 
 
 As we have seen, he arrived within sight of it 
 while the fight that was going on was at its hottest, 
 and the question that was immediately presented to 
 him was : how was he going to cross the compara- 
 tively clear space in front of the captain's lines ? 
 
 This was an undertaking that was full of danger, 
 but we know that he accomplished his object, reach- 
 ing the shelter of a friendly rock before the soldiers, 
 w T ho were wholly intent on keeping the Indians from 
 securing the scalp of the wounded cowboy, knew 
 that there w r as any one between them and the enemy . 
 
 " There, now," said Gilbert, panting from the vio- 
 lence of his exertions, at the same time taking the 
 major's letter from his pocket, and holding it aloft 
 
GILBERT SUCCOES THE WOUNDED COWBOY. 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 145 
 
 so that the soldiers could see it. "I don't think 
 they will shoot me, for, even if there are none among 
 them who kno^w me, they must be satisfied that my 
 intentions are friendly. Of course some of them 
 can understand the sign language, and I should like 
 to tell them that two hundred men are at the other 
 end of the canyon, and that the hostiles are in a 
 trap." 
 
 Gilbert made several attempts to convey this in- 
 formation to Captain Brent, but finally gave it up, 
 because he could not see, by any answering sign, 
 that the soldiers comprehended what he was trying 
 so hard to tell them. The reason was because the 
 Pawnee trailers, the only ones with Captain Brent's 
 command who understood the language, were fight- 
 ing at the other end of the line ; and before any of 
 them could be brought up to interpret his signals, 
 Gilbert had turned his attention to the wounded 
 cowboy. The latter was narrowly watching all Gil- 
 bert's movements, and was more than once on the 
 point of shooting him, believing that the boy was a 
 renegade whom the Utes had sent down the hill 
 after his scalp. 
 
 "I'll bet that poor fellow has been shot, and that 
 he Mould give anything he's got for a drink of 
 water," thought Gilbert ; and, in order to test the 
 matter, he held his recently filled canteen up so that 
 the cowboy could see it. 
 
 The sight was enough to drive the wounded man 
 almost frantic. There was no mistaking his piteous 
 appeals, and, urged on by a generous impulse, Gil- 
 bert resolved that he would give that cowboy a 
 drink, or lose his life in attempting it. He was a 
 long time in working his way to him, for every foot 
 of the way was swept by rifles from the top of the 
 hill ; but he reached him at last, lifted his head 
 from the ground, and placed the canteen to his lips. 
 
146 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 "You've done me a great kindness, pardner," mur- 
 mured the cowboy, faintly, " and the only return I 
 can make you is to wish that you may get back with- 
 out getting injured." 
 
 "I hope so," responded Gilbert, cheerfully, "be- 
 cause when I get ready to go I am going to take you 
 with me, if you are willing to take your chances." 
 
 The cowboy had never dreamed of this. He had 
 made up his mind to die, and to die game when the 
 time came ; but life is sweet, and his face lighted up 
 with hope as these encouraging words fell from Gil- 
 bert's lips. We know how long and patienth T the 
 boy worked to save him, and that the wounded man 
 was eventually brought into Captain Brent's lines ; 
 but his injuries were fatal, and he died on the way 
 to the post. 
 
 Gilbert slept inside of Captain Brent's lines that 
 night, but when morning came he was not to be 
 seen. With the recklessness characteristic of his 
 class, he had slipped by the sentries in the dark, 
 when he might have had a pass for asking for it, and 
 hurried back to Major Payne's command to take care 
 of his wounded comrade. 
 
 By his precipitancy he lost the ^ood fortune that 
 chance had thrown in his way. Uncle Jack Waldron 
 had in his possession some of the papers that Gilbert 
 was so anxious to see, and could have told him where 
 to find the rest. 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. U7 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 A MEETING IN THE CANYON. 
 
 At the close of the twelfth chapter you and I 
 told each other, reader, that we had perfect confi- 
 dence in Gus Warren's courage and skill in wood- 
 craft, and that we believed he would take good care 
 of himself and of his brother. 
 
 If we had passed along that way two hours later 
 we would have found them snug in camp. 
 
 The cold was intense and the storm was raging 
 furiously; but little snow fell where they were, the 
 gale carrying it across the gorge above their heads. 
 Gus was cutting the night's supply of fire wood 
 with his camp axe, while Jerry was superintending 
 the cooking of their supper. 
 
 " I don't call this so very bad after all," said the 
 latter, critically examining the slice of bacon he was 
 broiling over the fire on a three pronged beech stick. 
 "It will be something to talk about when we get 
 back to the States. ' Lost in a Blizzard,' would be 
 a bully subject for a composition, wouldn't it? " 
 
 "Yes; and 'Our Exj^erience in the Ute War* 
 would be another," answered Gus. "Though, to 
 tell the truth, we didn't see much of it, did we ? All 
 the experience we had with it was at the fort. How T 
 would 'A Thrilling Scene ' do for a subject, and then 
 go on and tell of the braver} 7 exhibited b}* Gilbert 
 
 the trapper, when he what's the matter with 
 
 you ? " added Gus, in some alarm, when he saw his 
 
148 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 brother drop the bacon into the fire and reach rather 
 hurriedly for his Winchester. 
 
 By way of reply, Jerry pointed down the canyon. 
 Gus looked but could not see anything, for just then 
 the lower end of the gorge was concealed from his 
 view by a gust of snow, which an eddying wind 
 brought down into it. But he heard something — 
 a distinct rustling and cracking among the bushes 
 and evergreens, as some heavy body worked its way 
 rapidly through them. 
 
 "It's a grizzly," said Jerry, in a frightened whis- 
 per. " Don't you remember what Uncle Jack told us 
 about their ferocity? They never wait to ask any 
 questions when they find an intruder in. their do- 
 mains, but start a fight at once." 
 
 " Don't shoot," exclaimed Gus, when he saw his 
 brother raise his Winchester to his shoulder and 
 drop his cheek close to the stock. 
 
 To the great astonishment of both the boys, these 
 words brought a response from the bushes. A clear, 
 ringing voice called out : 
 
 "No, I wouldn't shoot. I am not a wild animal; 
 and if I was, you couldn't hurt me while I am in 
 these thick bushes." 
 
 Gus and Jerry were profoundly astonished. They 
 stood in silence in front of the lean to, holding their 
 rifles in their hands, and waiting for the man in the 
 bushes to show himself. 
 
 A few seconds later something that might have 
 passed for a snow man came into view. He was not 
 alone, either. He faced about, pressed the thick 
 bushes down with his hands and feet, said : " Come 
 along, old fellow," and a sleek horse, with a well 
 filled pack on his back, stepped out. 
 
 The man stroked the animal's nose affectionately, 
 shook himself after the manner of a Newfoundland 
 dog when emerging from the water, brushed the 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 151 
 
 snow out of his hair, placed a wide brimmed som- 
 brero upon Lis bead, and came toward the camp, 
 saying, in a cheery voice : 
 
 " I hope I don't intrude. The fact of it is, I went 
 down to Captain Barton's store after supplies for 
 myself and partner and got caught in the blizzard. 
 I was getting ready to make a lonely camp down 
 there in the canyon, but the wind brought the smell 
 of your smoke to me, and I thought — well, I de- 
 clare ! " 
 
 While the stranger talked he was picking his way 
 through the logs and rocks, with which the bottom 
 of the gorge was filled; but when he came close to 
 the fire he raised his eyes and discovered for the first 
 time that he was not addressing men, but a couple 
 of boys whom he had never seen before, and who 
 looked altogether out of place m those mountains 
 w T hile a blizzard was raging. 
 
 " "Where did you kids come from ? " he added, as 
 soon as he recovered from his surprise. 
 
 " We are Jerry and Gus Warren, and we came 
 from the States," was the answer. 
 
 "That's what I thought; but you haven't come 
 from the States very lately," said the stranger, with 
 a smile. 
 
 " Oh, no. We have been on the plains ever since 
 last spring," replied Gus. " We are stopping with 
 our Uncle Waldron, who lives I don't know how 
 many miles from here, for we were caught on the 
 open prairie when the storm came up, our horses 
 ran awa}' and left us, and we don't know just where 
 we are." 
 
 " Well, I must say you are cool kids for city boys," 
 said the stranger, taking in at one comprehensive 
 glance all the complete preparations which had been 
 made for the night. "I should say that you had 
 camped out more than once during your time. But 
 
152 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 what makes you look at me so steadily, if I may be 
 so bold as to inquire ? I never forget a face, and I 
 am quite positive we have never met before." 
 
 "No, we never have," answered Gus, "but we 
 know you, all the same. You are Gilbert the trap- 
 per." 
 
 " That's a fact, but how did you find it out? " 
 
 " We knew you from the description we have had 
 of you. You see, Uncle Waldron was in the fight 
 Captain Brent had with the hostiles when you saved 
 that cowboy at the risk of your own life." 
 
 " So your uncle was in that battle, was he ? You 
 were not? Then what makes you so excited? You 
 tremble all over. Are you frightened because you 
 are lost ? Well, I don't know that you are to blame 
 for that, being from the States. If you had been 
 knocked around as I have, you would have got used 
 to it before this time. But don't worry. I will take 
 care of you." 
 
 It is true that the boys were somewhat excited, 
 but it was not because there was a blizzard raging 
 and they did not know the way home. They were 
 thinking of the remarkable adventures that had 
 befallen this handsome stranger who had so unex- 
 pectedly walked into their camp, and wondering how 
 they should acquaint him with the fact that they knew 
 s >me things about him that he did not know himself. 
 
 "I suppose you have been caught in storms like 
 this so many times, during the thirteen years you 
 have been on the plains, that you think nothing of 
 it," said G-us, at length. 
 
 "Well, no," answered Gilbert, with a laugh. "I 
 generally make it my business to get under cover 
 when the signs grow threatening. I knew yesterday 
 that this storm was coming, but I left my partner 
 without any grub to speak of, and was anxious to 
 get back to him before the snow blocked my way. 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 153 
 
 How clo you know that I have been on the plains 
 thirteen years ? " 
 
 " I believe that was what Buckskin Bob told Uncle 
 Waldron," replied Gus ; and his words had just the 
 effect upon the visitor that he thought they would. 
 Gilbert was standing beside Lis horse, unfastening 
 the straps with which the pack was bound to his 
 saddle ; but at the mention of the squaw man's name 
 he drorjped everything, and looked at Gus with an 
 expression that no one Lad ever seen on his face 
 before. 
 
 " Buckskin Bob was wounded in that fight," con- 
 tinued Gus, speaking as rapidly as he coidd, for he 
 knew that Gilbert was as impatient to hear what he 
 had to say as he was to say it. "If you had not 
 been in such a hurry to leave Captain Brent's com- 
 mand on the morning after the battle, you might 
 have, had all the papers in your possession now." 
 
 "What paper.- V asked Gilbert. 
 
 He uttered the words calmly enough, but he w - 
 fairly quivering with suppressed excitement. He 
 left his horse, walked around the fire, and seated 
 himself on a convenient log near it, anxiously await- 
 ing an answer. 
 
 "I told von that Buckskin Bob was wounded in 
 the fight, didn't I?" said Gus. "Well, when the 
 troops advanced the next morning, Uncle Jack found 
 him lying among the rocks, too badly hurt to move. 
 The renegade thought he was going to die, and so 
 he told Uncle Jack as much of your history as he 
 knew. He said that about thirteen years ago your 
 father left ihe mines in company with a party of 
 men whom he supposed to be his friends, to cross 
 the plains on his way Lome." 
 
 " Where was his Lome ? " inquired Gilbert, eagerly. 
 "J would give anything to know that." 
 
 "I am sorry to say that I can't enlighten you," 
 
154 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 replied Gus ; and the tone in which he said it proved 
 that he meant it. " Perhaps it is on the other part 
 of the papers that Grizzly Pete's got." 
 
 " I knew it ; I knew it all the time," exclaimed Gil- 
 bert, rising to his feet and striding back aud forth 
 like some caged wild animal. "Arizona Charley 
 always said so, and Josh and I thought so. Go on, 
 please. I will try not to interrupt you any more. 
 But if you had lived all your life as I have, without 
 knowing wh'j or what you are, or whether or not 
 there is a person on the face of the broad earth who 
 is in any way related to you, you would be impatient 
 too, I guess. Go on." 
 
 " When your father and his party reached a place 
 called Sweetwater Canyon," continued Gus, "the 
 Cheyennes attacked and killed the last one of them." 
 
 " That's where Buckskin Bob deliberately deceived 
 your uncle," said Gilbert, forgetting that he had 
 promised not to interrupt any more. " The Chey- 
 ennes had nothing to do with it. The Utes did it, 
 and most likely Pete and Bob put them up to it. 
 Tliey killed every one in the party except Josh 
 Saunders and myself, and Pete took me and gave 
 me into Colonel Starke's hands for safe keeping. I 
 know all about that (although I do not see why it 
 was necessary that I should have been placed under 
 the protection of the soldiers), but it's the papers I 
 want to hear about. What of them, and how does 
 it come that Bob had part of them and Pete the 
 rest?" 
 
 With a great effort Gilbert the trapper curbed his 
 impatience, and sat down on the log again. 
 
 " The papers that Buckskin Bob gave into Uncle 
 Jack's hands were cut into two pieces," continued 
 Gus. " Bob explained that the reason that was done 
 was because he and Pete were suspicious of each 
 other. They were afraid that if the papers were left 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPEK. 155 
 
 entire in the hands of one person he might steal a 
 march on the other, and dig up the money that is 
 concealed in Sweetwater Canyon." 
 
 '■ Then my father did have some property?" said 
 Gilbert. 
 
 "Yes. The letter, which was written in plain 
 English, states that he had a hundred thousand dol- 
 lars' worth of dust and nuggets, and that he buried 
 it somewhere in the canyon while his companions 
 were asleep. You see he found that some of them 
 were no better than they ought to be, and he was 
 afraid they would kill him to get his wealth." 
 
 "My partner, Josh Saunders, has always stuck to 
 it that my father had lots of money, or something 
 else that was valuable, in his pack saddle, for he was 
 very careful of it at night," said Gilbert, reflectively. 
 "You say that there were two papers, and that the 
 letter was written in plain English. Am I to under- 
 stand that the other was not a letter, and that it was 
 in some other language?" 
 
 " That is just what I mean. The smallest paper 
 contained a description of the place in which the 
 money was buried, and " 
 
 " Then I ha\ e wasted my time staying here, haven't 
 I?" exclaimed Gilbert, with a sigh. "That cache 
 has been found and opened long before this day. I 
 don't care for the nuggets and dust, for I shall never 
 live among civilized people who judge of a man's 
 worth by the size of his pocket book ; but there 
 might have been some other papers in it that would 
 tell me who I am, and where my relatives live." 
 
 "Well, that cache hasn't been found and opened 
 yet, either," said Gus, as soon as Gilbert gave him a 
 chance to speak. " The smallest paper was a cryp- 
 togram ; that is, the information it contained was 
 concealed under the most curious jumble of letters 
 you ever saw. The trader has a copy of it " 
 
156 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 " Not Captain Barton ! " cried Gilbert. 
 
 " He is the trader at the lower agency, isn't he ? " 
 said Gus, in reply. " Then he is the man." 
 
 "What a scoundrel he is ! " said Gilbert, fiercely. 
 "I sold him my goods when I came up from the 
 Navajo nation. I have been alone with him in his 
 store more than a hundred times since, and he never 
 said a word to me about it." 
 
 " Of course he didn't," assented Gus. " Bob told 
 Uncle Jack that he is a bad man, and will do any- 
 thing for money. I do not know how he came hj 
 the papers in the first place, but he's got 'em ; and 
 it was his intention to read them and claim a share 
 of that hundred thousand. But you need not worry 
 about that. He can't read the cryptogram." 
 
 " How do you know ? " 
 
 " I just guess at it. If he can, what is the reason 
 he has not dug up the dust before this time ? He 
 can't read it, I tell you. It took me a good while to 
 do it, and I know something about cryptograms." 
 
 "Do you mean to say that you can read it — that 
 you have read it ? " cried the young trapper, the 
 excitement which he had tried so hard to suppress 
 showing itself afresh. 
 
 " Certainly. Didn't you understand me to say as 
 much ? Buckskin Bob gave his part of the papers 
 to Uncle Jack, who brought them home and gave 
 them to us to read for them. Bob discouraged 
 Uncle Jack by telling him that one of the papers 
 was written in Dutch ; but I knew what it was the 
 minute I looked at it. I found the key after a while, 
 and, if you will bring me the rest of the paper, I 
 will tell you right where to look for your cache." 
 
 "Look here, partner," said Gilbert, slowly rising 
 to his feet. " What did you say your name is ? " 
 
 Gus told him, adding that the " other fellow " was 
 his brother Jerry. 
 
GILBEET THE TRAPPER. 157 
 
 " Well, Gus," Gilbert went on, " you don't know 
 what you have done for me. Ever since I can re- 
 member I have carried a load on my shoulders 
 which has grown heavier with every year of my life, 
 until it seemed that I must sink under it. I thank 
 Heaven that I have not got to bear it much longer. 
 Put it there." 
 
 Gilbert held out his hand, and Gus placed his own 
 within it. 
 
 Now the latter, to quote from Uncle Jack "Wal- 
 dron, was pretty much of a buy himself. There 
 were not many sixteen year old fellows who had any 
 business with him. He was a trained gymnast, an 
 Indian club and dumb bell swinger, a long distance 
 runner and a wheelman besides. His muscles were 
 all well developed, but his brother Jerry would not 
 have been more utterly helpless in his own grasp 
 than he was when Gilbert the trapper's hand closed 
 over his palm. If the pressure of his hand was an 
 index to his feelings, they must have been very 
 strong indeed. And yet, if all reports were true, 
 Gilbert could not have been more than a year older 
 than himself. 
 
 "It beats the world how things do turn out when 
 you are least expecting it," said Gilbert, as he 
 went back to his horse and assumed his work of un- 
 fastening the pack that was strapped to the saddle. 
 " You don't know how I railed at the blizzard when 
 it came up and caught me out there in the open ; but 
 if it had held off until I reached my camp, I never 
 would have seen you, and there is no telling whether 
 or not I should ever have found out anvthing about 
 myself." 
 
 " Oh, I think you would," said Gus. " Uncle Jack 
 is much interested in your affairs, and I have an idea 
 that he intends to make Grizzly Pete and the trader 
 hand out those papers at the muzzle of a revolver. 
 
158 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 He told me to give him a copy of them, and I knew 
 by the look on his face that he was up to some- 
 thing." 
 
 " That is just what I should expect of Mr. Waldron," 
 replied Gilbert. " I have often heard of him and his 
 doings, and I know that he has the reputation of 
 being around when there's anybody in trouble. I 
 am much obliged to him, I am sure ; but I will save 
 him the work of calling upon Pete and Captain Bar- 
 ton. I will attend to them myself." 
 
 "But you mustn't rush things," cautioned Gus. 
 " If you give them a chance to destroy the paj:>ers, 
 then you will be in a pretty fix." 
 
 " Won't I ? " said Gilbert, cheerfully. 
 " And if you don't get the papers the first time 
 they will either burn them up, or hide them where 
 you can't find them," added Gus. 
 
 "I understand all that. I don't intend to rush 
 things." 
 
 " What are you going to ? " 
 
 " Well, I am going to camp here with you until 
 the storm is over, if you will let me," answered Gil- 
 bert, depositing his heavy pack under the shelter of 
 the lean to. " Then I will show you the way home, 
 and ride down to the agency and pay my respects to 
 Captain Barton. I think I can convince him that it 
 would be to his interest to hand over those pajDers 
 without making any fuss about it." 
 
 " But suppose you can't ? " said Jerry, who up to 
 this time had been an interested listener. "What if 
 he refuses, point blank ? Then what ? " 
 
 " Oh, I don't think he will refuse, or even hesitate. 
 As soon as I get them, I will call and see you on my 
 way to camp, and ask you to read them for me." 
 
 "And I will do it, and be glad to. What's the 
 reason you don't go and get your partner to help 
 you ? " said Gus, who knew by the way Gilbert spoke 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 150 
 
 that the latter meant to compel the trader to comply 
 with his demand, whether he wanted to or not. 
 
 " Because I don't need any help — least of all such 
 help as Josh Saunders would he likely to give me. 
 I don't want Josh to go to the agency, for he might 
 stumble upon Grizzly Pete or Buckskin Bob while 
 he was there, and then there would be trouble. He 
 has promised to shoot them on sight." 
 
 " Oh, I hope he won't do it," exclaimed Jerry. 
 
 "He will, you may be sure of that, for Josh is not 
 a man to say such things just for the sake of hear- 
 ing himself talk. He was my guide up from the 
 Navajo country, but I dropped him twenty miles from 
 the agency, telling him to go into the hills and await 
 my return. I hoped to meet Pete and Bob at the 
 post, but I did not want Josh to see them. Josh 
 knows more about my early days than any living 
 man, for he was my father's guide at the time he and 
 his companions were killed by the Utes. He tried 
 hard to save me, but couldn't do it. I told you all 
 about that." 
 
 The boys looked surprised and declared that Gil- 
 bert had not said one word about it before. 
 
 "Then it was because I had so many other things 
 to tell that I didn't think of it. Yes ; Josh was there 
 and saw it all. He was well acquainted with Pete 
 and Bob, and saw them while the fight was going 
 on. I could hardly believe that Bob had any hand 
 in it, but I believe it now. On the day that I came 
 up with my train, two years ago, I found them in 
 the store, and thanked them before a whole crowd of 
 people for the service they had rendered me, and 
 they never denied it. That proves that they were 
 with the Utes when they pitched upon the miners, 
 does it not ? I tell you they were surprised, for 
 thev saw that I had it in my power to denounce 
 them." 
 
160 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 " And why didn't you do it ? " 
 
 "Because Charley and Josh stuck to it that there 
 were papers in existence that I ought to have, and I 
 wanted to get them before saying or doing anything 
 to kick up a row. How I wish that Arizona Charley 
 had lived to see this day ! Everything has turned 
 out just as he said it would. Now let's have a bite 
 to eat. Is that all you've got in the way of pro- 
 vender ? " 
 
 " That's all," replied Jerry. " It was intended for 
 a lunch. We didn't expect anything of this kind, 
 you know, when we rode out to see Uncle Jack's 
 cowboys round up his cattle." 
 
 "No; I suppose not. Well, I've got enough here 
 to last us two or three weeks." 
 
 " Must we stay here that long ? " exclaimed Jerry. 
 
 "I hope not," answered Gilbert. "I should like 
 to have my affairs settled before the end of that 
 time. We may have to remain in camp three or four 
 days; but that's nothing, as long as we have an 
 abundance of fire wood and plenty to eat." 
 
 So saying, Gilbert began undoing his pack, while 
 Gus punched up the fire and piled on more fueL 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 16* 
 
 CHAPTEB XXII. 
 
 AROUND THE CAMP FIRE. 
 
 Tom about is fair play, boys," said Gilbert the 
 trapper, as he drew out of his pack a whole ham a 
 can P of com, half a peck of potatoes and a small 
 package of tea. "I will provide you, with a good 
 supper if you will give my horse something to eat 
 
 "That's a fair proposition," replied Gus. >; trot 
 anvthing in the way of oats or corn in there . 
 
 "Nar? thing," said Gilbert, laughing at the idea. 
 " He will have to be satisfied with what he can browse 
 from a cottonwood tonight. That is what the Indian 
 ponies live on during the winter, you know. 
 
 "But this fellow looks as though he were accus- 
 tomed to better grub than that," answered _ Jerry, 
 passing his hands admiringly over the horse s sleek 
 coat "You couldn't keep him in better condition if 
 you were fitting him for a race." 
 
 "Oh he has good care. In the glade where mj 
 partner and I have made pur permanent camp, jm 
 shall have grass all the winter through. Tom will 
 he in as fine trim for hard work in the spring as he 
 is now; and that is not the case with an Indians 
 pony. He comes out of his winter quarters looking 
 as though he was half starved." 
 
 It wJ plain that Tom knew what a co onwood 
 was, for when Gus brought one down with a few 
 strokes of his camp axe, the howe walked up to it 
 and began eating his supper. After thebojs had 
 
162 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 finished theirs, they were ready for the business of 
 the evening, which, in a camp, is invariably story 
 telling. 
 
 " You said a few minutes ago that turn about is 
 fair play," said Grus. " We have put you on the 
 track of the papers you wanted to find, and " 
 
 "And you want me to tell you something about 
 myself in return," said Gilbert, finishing the sen- 
 tence for him. " Well, that is natural, and I will 
 gladly oblige you. It will be a relief to me to talk 
 to you. A good many people with whom I have 
 come in contact first and last, have tried to get me 
 started on that subject, but somehow I never could 
 unburden myself to them. I knew that they would 
 fail to appreciate the situation, or else they would 
 laugh at me for being a fool. But I have got the 
 laugh on my side now — or rather, I will have in a 
 few days. 
 
 " A good many have asked me why I didn't hire 
 out for a cowboy instead of loafing around the post. 
 The reason was because I could not divest myself of 
 the idea that if I ever desired to know anything 
 about myself, I had better stay where I could keep 
 about half an eye on Pete Axley and Buckskin Bob. 
 I learned, as soon as I was old enough to learn any- 
 thing, just how I came to be placed in Colonel 
 Starke's hands, and the people living at the fort 
 were open and above board with me. They were 
 very careful not to raise any false hopes in me, and 
 told me from the start that my father was a squaw 
 man, and that he had left the States and come to 
 this wilderness because he had to; but, boy as I 
 was, I could see that they did not believe a word of 
 it." 
 
 "Then I don't see why they told you so," said 
 Jerry, angrily. 
 
 " They did it because that was the story that Pete 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPEK. 163 
 
 Axley told Colonel Starke. You can't imagine how 
 mad I was when Arizona Charley pointed out Grizzly 
 Pete, and told me that lie was the man who claimed 
 to be my father. I knew better ; something in here 
 told me that that man was no relation to me and had 
 no claim upon me," said Gilbert, laying his hand 
 upon his heart. " I took pains to keep out of his 
 way. and never exchanged a single word with him 
 until the day I came back from the Navajo country. 
 Then I thanked him for saving my life, and gave 
 him every chance to say, in the presence of the sol- 
 diers and others who were standing around, that he 
 was my father; but he dared not utter the words. I 
 ruined years of his work in just two minutes' time." 
 
 " He industriously spread the report behind your 
 back that he was your father, but he dared not say 
 so to your face," observed Gus. 
 
 " That's the idea that I am tiTing to convev," said 
 Gilbert. " He told Buckskin Bob, more than once, 
 that he was going to claim me and take me away 
 from the post when he got a good ready, and if I 
 kicked, or refused to acknowledge him as my father, 
 he would shoot me. That was the time for him to 
 speak up; but if he had done so," said Gilbert, 
 shaking his fist at Gus, " I would have told him 
 that he was with the Utes when they killed my 
 father and his companions. I should have been 
 sorry to do it so publicly, for I don't want to get 
 Buckskin Bob into any trouble. He is a bad man, 
 and is quite as much to blame for my father's death 
 as Pete is; but he has tried to make amends for it, 
 as far as he can. He has dropped many hints that 
 did much to open my past life to me, and he would 
 have said and done more if he were not afraid of 
 Grizzly Pete. If I could catch Bob in the woods 
 by himself I am sure I could persuade him to tell 
 me everything he knows." 
 
164 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 " I have often wondered why there was no fuss 
 ever made about that masacre," said Gus. 
 
 "Because no one knew except those who were 
 engaged in it; that's the reason. I don't suppose 
 there was a man in all this country, between the San 
 Pedro mines and the Mississippi river, who ever saw 
 or heard of those miners. There was no one about 
 here to miss them, no one to make inquiries about 
 them, and consequently it was an easy matter for the 
 Utes to annihilate the entire party and escape detec- 
 tion, if they concealed their bodies so that the scouts 
 would not find them. But there's one thing ] can't 
 explain, and that is, how the Utes have managed to 
 keep from boasting of it during their dances. The 
 Indian who killed Custer's veterinary surgeon and 
 sutler was discovered in that way, but not until 
 eighteen months after he committed the deed. He 
 might have remained unknown until this day, if he 
 could have curbed his propensity for boasting." 
 
 Seeing that he had an appreciative audience, and 
 that Gus Warren and his brother were deeply inter- 
 ested in everything he said, Gilbert the trapper re- 
 arranged his blankets, leaned his elbow upon his 
 saddle, which he had placed at the head of his 
 bed to serve as a pillow, and launched out into a 
 story, which was none the less interesting because 
 it was true. I write it just as he told it, for it will 
 give you a fair idea of the way things are done on 
 the plains, and serve to convince you that our gov- 
 ernment and not the Indians is to blame for many 
 of the wars through which we have passed. 
 
 " Perhaps you know, better than I can tell you," 
 said Gilbert, when he had fixed his bed to his satis- 
 faction, " that according to the terms of the treaty 
 of 1868, the Black Hills, as well as other large sec- 
 tions of the country, were declared to be a part of the 
 Indian reservations, and that they were not, under 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 165 
 
 any circumstances, to be trespassed upon by white 
 men. As long as the Hills were thought to he 
 worthless the government stuck to its agreement, 
 and the Sioux were permitted to live in peace; but 
 the minute gold was discovered there the treaty 
 was thrown to the winds, and Custer was ordered to 
 fit out a strong expedition and look into the matter. 
 
 "Now that is something for which the Indians can 
 blame themselves. Up to this time they Lad always 
 been very much averse to saying anything about 
 the country and the things that were to be found 
 there, but the few trappers who professed to have 
 visited it, declared it to be a land that was full of 
 wonders. But then you couldn't place a particle of 
 dependence in what they said, for trappers, like 
 sailors, are much given to spinning yarns, and no 
 one believed that any white men had ever been al- 
 lowed to go near the Hills. 
 
 " But one day some of the Indians, who had seen 
 some gaudy articles in the trader's store that they 
 desired to possess, were foolish enough to bring in 
 a lot of dust and nuggets, and to admit that they 
 came from the Hills, and then the fun began. Every- 
 body became excited, and, in less time than it takes to 
 tell it, large parties of miners were on their way to the 
 Hills. Then Custer received his orders, and" on the 
 first day of -July, 1874, set out from the village of 
 Bismarck with his expedition. He was not ordered 
 to put out any miners he might find there, but to 
 see if there was anv gold in the Hills, and that order 
 killed General Custer." 
 
 "How do you make that out?" asked Gus, who, 
 being a great admirer of the dashing cavalry leader, 
 had read everything regarding him and his career 
 that he could buy or borrow. " I thought he lost 
 his life at the battle that took place on the Little Big 
 Horn in June, 76." 
 
166 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 "So lie did; but if the government had kept its 
 promises to the Indians, that battle would never 
 have been fought. Of course it made the Sioux mad 
 to lose the best part of their reservation, and they 
 went to war about it. 
 
 "It was during the Black Hills expedition that 
 two civilians attached to Custer's command were 
 killed. It was at first supposed that the murder had 
 been committed by hostiles; but the discovery of 
 agency property upon the ground where the deed 
 was done, proved that some so called ' good Indians ' 
 were implicated in it. Of course it was useless to try 
 and hunt them down. 
 
 " A year and a half afterward, Charley Reynolds, 
 who was one of Custer's scouts, and who fell at the 
 Little Horn battle, was at Standing Rock agency 
 while the Sioux were drawing rations, and heard one of 
 them boast that he had shot two men a while before, 
 and Charley knew at once, by the description the 
 savage gave of his victims, that they were the doctor 
 and sutler. More than that, he exhibited property 
 that belonged to the two men, and which Charley 
 recognized. Hold on a minute." 
 
 Gilbert the trapper rose, and threw some fresh 
 logs on the camp fire. Then he sat down again, and 
 went on with his story. 
 
 " I suppose those two civilians were killed because 
 they strayed away from the column while it was on 
 the march," observed Jerry. 
 
 "That was just the way it happened," replied Gil- 
 bert. " Not being obliged to keep in ranks, as the 
 soldiers were, they went where their fancy led them, 
 and one day it led them to their death. They stopped 
 at a little stream to water their horses, and the min- 
 ute the column was out of sight behind the hills, the 
 Indians surrounded and made an end of them with- 
 out raising any alarm. 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 167 
 
 "Well, when Charley Reynolds heard the Indian 
 boasting in the dance of killing those two men, he 
 lost no time in letting Custer know about it, and a 
 hundred men were at once detailed "to go to the 
 agency and bring him in. Now that was risky busi- 
 ness, I tell you. There were at least five hundred 
 Indians at the agency that day, armed to the teeth, 
 as they always are, and it was not at all likely that 
 they would stand quietly by and see the soldiers 
 carry off one of their number. 
 
 " Much depended on keeping the object of the ex- 
 pedition a secret from everybody, because if the 
 troops spoke of their errand, the Sioux scouts in the 
 employ of the government would be sure to get hold 
 of it, and they would send runners to the agency be- 
 low with warning to the murderer, who would have 
 plenty of time in which to effect his escape. So the 
 soldiers went out under sealed orders, which were 
 not opened until the fort had been left twenty miles 
 behind. 
 
 " The first thing the officer in command did when 
 he reached the agency, was to send a lieutenant and 
 forty men to an Indian camp, ten miles away, to 
 make inquiries for some warriors who were supposed 
 to have killed three settlers on Red River a year or 
 so before, and the next move was to send another 
 officer, with five picked men, to the trader's store, 
 with instructions to arrest Rain-in-the-face as 
 soon " 
 
 " Rain-in-the-face ! " interrupted Gus. " \Yhy, he 
 is the Indian who killed Custer." 
 
 " You seem to be pretty well posted," replied Gil- 
 bert. "I did not suppose that you knew so much 
 about things on the plains." 
 
 " You must remember that we have been here a 
 good while, and that we have never allowed an op- 
 portunity to hear a story pass unimproved," said 
 
168 GILBEET THE TKAPPEK. 
 
 Jerry. " Besides, we read a little now and then be- 
 fore we came here." 
 
 "But your stories of Western life are mostly writ- 
 ten by men who could not telJ a bronco from a coyote 
 if they should see them together," replied Gilbert. 
 " I got hold of one once, at Fort Shaw, in which the 
 author told of shooting a grizzly bear out of the top 
 of a tree. Yes ; Kain-in-the-face was supposed to 
 have shot Custer, but I don't know whether he did 
 or not. I wasn't there, and have never seen any re- 
 liable person who knew the straight of that story. 
 
 " Well, this officer and five picked men went to the 
 store, and there they stayed for long hours waiting 
 for the Indian they wanted to put in an appearance. 
 There were several warriors in the store when they 
 went in, but as the weather was cold they kept their 
 blankets wrapped around their heads, so that it was 
 impossible to tell one from another ; but at last one 
 of them moved his blanket a little, and in less than 
 a second the officer stepped behind him and grabbed 
 his gun. There was fun for a while, I bet you, for 
 Rain-in-the-face was nobody's coward, and if he had 
 been given the least show for resistance he would 
 have hurt somebody ; but he was speedily disarmed 
 and his hands were tied behind him. 
 
 "But the danger wasn't over after Rain-in-the-face 
 had been secured. Things looked more squally 
 after that than they did while the struggle was going 
 on, for an Indian set up a yelp to attract attention, 
 and then began urging his friends to overpower the 
 soldiers and take their prisoner from them. 
 
 " The commanding officer, who had been on the 
 outside watching things, at once called all his force 
 together, while the Indians came on the jump from 
 every direction with their weapons in their hands, 
 and threatened to do all sorts of terrible deeds if 
 their comrades were not at once released. But the 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 160 
 
 officer was cool and prudent as well as brave and de- 
 termined, and the Indians, finding that they could 
 not accomplish anything by threats or by the display 
 of numbers, resorted to parley, and offered to give 
 up two of their number if Rain-in-the-face were re- 
 stored to them. , , 
 -But that was too thin altogether. They would 
 have have surrendered some worthless members of 
 their tribe who had never distinguished themselves 
 in any way ; and when their proposition was de- 
 clined thev scattered, and in less than ten minutes 
 there was not an Indian to be seen about the agency. 
 
 "Where had they gone ?" exclaimed Jerry, who 
 was taking in every word. 
 
 " Thev went to their camp, ten miles below, to 
 hold a pow-wow," answered Gilbert «I never heard 
 that thev decided upon any course of action, but later 
 in the day a party of fifty of them galloped by the 
 agency, and clown the road that the troops would 
 have to take to get back to the fort. Of course the 
 boys in blue expected to be attacked by this part, , 
 but it turned out afterward that they went to an old 
 chief named Two Bears, and tried to induce him to 
 ioin with them in rescuing the prisoner ; but the 
 wise old fellow couldn't see it. It was too near win- 
 ter (in fact the troops marched home through a ter- 
 rible blizzard) and he thought too much of his com- 
 fort to take to the war trail during the inclement 
 season. Rain-in-the-face found his way mtc > the 
 guard house, from which he escaped and went oft to 
 ioin Sitting Bull. He sent a message to Custer tell- 
 in- him where he was, and adding that he was wait- 
 in- for his revenge. If he hadn't done that, probably 
 no°one would ever have thought of blaming him with 
 the general's death." 
 
170 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXIII. 
 
 GILBERT SPEAKS OF HIMSELF. 
 
 "If that story is ended won't you tell us something 
 about yourself?" said Jerry, when Gilbert paused 
 and settled back on his blanket. " You don't talk as 
 though you had lived on the borders of civilization 
 all your life. I don't see where you got so good a 
 command of language." 
 
 "That can be easily explained," was the reply. 
 "From the time that Pete Axley brought me to Fort 
 Shaw up to the day when Arizona Charley took me 
 away to the Navajo nation, I was mostly under the 
 control of the ladies of the garrison, who not only 
 used good language themselves, but made me do it 
 too. They taught me to read and write as well, and 
 as I was fond of reading I devoured everything in 
 the way of books and papers that I could get hold of. 
 There were no books for boys in the post library, so 
 I had to be content with histories, biographies and 
 such novels as Scott and Dickens used to write. I 
 think I have made a very fair start, considering the 
 chance I have had, and perhaps if I could go to 
 school I might learn something." 
 
 "Of course you could," assented Gus. "But you 
 would find it hard work after leading such a life as 
 you have. Why don't you go to some city as soon 
 as you get your money, and go to school?" 
 
 " I think it would be a good idea," said Gilbert, 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPEM. i«i 
 
 thoughtfully. " By the way, did that letter of which 
 you spoke say where my father lived I 
 
 "It did uot. It said, 'I live 111 and theie it 
 
 was cut off." . , ,.- ,. , 
 
 "In the most interesting part, just like the stories 
 
 in the papers," chimed in Jerry. _ j? 
 
 « I don't know what your name is, either, contin- 
 ued Gus "Your Christian names are Gilbert Hub- 
 bard, and your surname begins with N-e-v. Can you 
 make it out from that ? You might think of it if you 
 bring vour mind to bear upon it." 
 
 For 'several minutes Gilbert the trapper said noth- 
 ino- He leaned his elbows on his knees and stared 
 hard at the fire, as if he hoped to see his name writ- 
 ten among its glowing coals, and then he shook his 
 
 1G " I cannot recall any name beginning with those 
 letters, and can make nothing of it," said he, sadly. 
 « Do you think it is on the other part of the letter , 
 
 "I am sure of it," answered Gus. "Your father 
 would not have taken the pains to write a description 
 of the place in which he had hidden his valuables 
 without signing his name to it, would he? What 
 good would it do you to get the money if you don 
 know who you are or where your friends live? What 
 satisfaction would it be to you?" p ., w 
 
 « It would be only an aggravation replied Gilbert. 
 "Everything now depends upon those. papers that 
 Pete Axlev has in his possession." . „ 
 
 " Or upon the copies that the trader has m his, 
 said Gus " Of course I should prefer to have the 
 originals ; but if you don't get them, don't fail to get 
 
 " If P i e fail, it will be because Captain Barton is 
 quicker with his revolver than I am with mine, said 
 Gilbert quietly. " It makes you horrified to hear one 
 talk about such things, doesn't it ? Well, I am used 
 
172 GILBEKT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 to it. Out here every man is a law unto himself, and 
 I should not know how to act if I found myself in a 
 community whose members all behaved themselves 
 just because it was right to do so." 
 
 "Neither would I," said Gus. "There's no such 
 place in the world. There are bad people, even in 
 civilized communities, and they have to be restrained 
 by law. Before I forget it — how did folks come to 
 call 3'ou Gilbert the trapper ? " 
 
 " Every fellow needs at least tw r o handles to his 
 name, you know," answered Gilbert. "People 
 wouldn't insult me by calling me Gilbert Axley, be- 
 cause they knew that wasn't my name. While the 
 ladies were teaching me how to read, write and talk, 
 Arizona Charley was putting me through another 
 course of sprouts. He taught me to ride, shoot and 
 trap, and the first winter I spent in the mountains 
 with him I caught more skins than he did ; but that 
 was owing to the fact that he devoted so much time 
 to overlooking my work. When we returned to the 
 agency some one called me Gilbert the trapper, and 
 the name has clung to me ever since. I shall not be 
 known by any other as long as I remain here. 
 
 "It is an ill wind that blows nobody good," con- 
 tinued Gibert. " The Ute outbreak, wmich spread 
 consternation among the stockmen, and the blizzard 
 that forced you and me to take shelter in this can- 
 yon, will be the means of clearing up the mystery 
 that hangs over my life. Where is Buckskin Bob 
 now?" 
 
 "He is at Fort Lewis, I suppose," replied Gns. 
 " Captain Brent sent him there after the fight, and I 
 don't believe he has been able to get awaj T yet. The 
 surgeon said his injuries might lay him up for a 
 month or so. I judge from what you said about him 
 that Grizzly Pete used him as a sort of go between, 
 to hold communications with you." 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 173 
 
 "Yes ; I guess Pete was satisfied that if I got one 
 look at his face I never could be induced to acknowl- 
 edge him as my father." 
 
 " And vet I have heard that when Pete took you 
 to Colonel Starke's headquarters you would not go 
 to the colonel when he held out his hands to you, 
 but turned about and climbed upon the squaw man's 
 knee. That looks as though you were willing to 
 recognize him then." 
 
 "It is very likely. Bob told me that after the 
 massacre Pete took me to his tepee and kept me 
 there until he thought I had had time to forget all 
 about my father and the miners who were with him. 
 He and his Indian wife treated me kindly, and it 
 was natural that I should prefer their company to 
 that of an entire stranger. 
 
 " Before long Bob began to be sorry for the part 
 he had taken in the massacre, and laid plans to steal 
 me away from Pete and take me back to California, 
 hoping that he would there find some of my friends, 
 who would be willing to give something handsome 
 for bringing me to them ; but Pete got wind of it in 
 some way, and that was the reason he left me at the 
 post. But he w r as guilty of a deliberate falsehood 
 when he told the colonel that there were those in the 
 world who wished me dead, so that they could in- 
 herit my father's money. The colonel knew it well 
 enough, but the trouble was he could not prove anv- 
 thing." 
 
 "Arizona Charley was your friend all the way 
 through, and almost the only one you had to depend 
 on, wasn't he ? " said Gus. " How did vou come to 
 lose him ? " 
 
 " He died in the Navajo country from the effects 
 of a wound he received years ago, at the hands of an 
 Indian whom he supposed to be dead," answered 
 Gilbert. " He got into a fight while he was out with 
 
174 GILBERT 1?HE TRAPPER. 
 
 the troops on a scout after some of Chief Joseph's 
 band. He saw the Indian fall, and when he rode bv 
 him, the savage drew an arrow with his last breath, 
 and sent it into Charley between his shoulders. The 
 head of the arrow never came out of the wound, and 
 Charley knew that it would some day be the cause of 
 his death. If I hadn't had Josh Saunders to fall 
 back on after 1 lost Charley I don't know what I 
 should have done." 
 
 " Scout Robinson told Uncle Jack that there was 
 something mysterious about your new partner," ob- 
 served Jerry. 
 
 Gilbert laughed. 
 
 "I told him that he would get himself talked 
 about if he kept out of sight," said he ; " but Josh 
 and I know just what we are doing. He has come 
 out of his hiding place every time there was a chance 
 for a brush with the Indians, but all the scouts and 
 trappers who used to know him years ago have left 
 the country or been killed off, and there was no one 
 who was acquainted with him. As soon as my 
 affairs are settled he will come out of the mountains 
 to stay ; and you won't see Grizzly Pete or Buckskin 
 Bob after he comes out, either." 
 
GILBERT THE TKAPiPEK, Ill 
 
 CHAPTER XXTV. 
 
 MOVING ON THE POST TRADER. 
 
 It was late when Gus and Jerry Warren sought 
 their blankets that night. Being securely protected 
 from the fury of the storm, and feeling safe in the 
 company of Gilbert the trapper, they slept soundly, 
 and never opened their eyes until they were sum- 
 moned to breakfast. 
 
 Fur two days and three nights the blizzard kept 
 them closely confined to their narrow quarters, and 
 of course they chafed under the restraint. Gilbert 
 was impatient' to be doing something toward secur- 
 ing the rest of the papers that were so important to 
 him, while Gus and his brother were anxious to go 
 home and set their uncle's fears at rest. If their 
 ponies had gone straight back to the ranch (and that 
 was what Gilbert said they had done), of course 
 Uncle Jack would imagine all sorts of terrible things 
 that might have happened to them. 
 
 Gilbert's presence was a great comfort to them. 
 During his long wanderings in the Navajo nation he 
 had accumulated an almost inexhaustible fund of 
 stories, and he seemed to find as much pleasure in 
 relating them as Gus and Jerry did in listening to 
 them. 
 
 When he called them to breakfast on the morning 
 of the third day, Gilbert put life and energy into the 
 boys by assuring them that if nothing unforeseen 
 happened, they would be safe under their uncle's 
 
176 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 roof before supper time. The storm was over, and 
 he had found, by a hurried reconnoissance which he 
 made at daylight, that tiie prairie was almost bare of 
 snow. Of course they would find drifts in the gul- 
 lies that lay in their course, but they would not be 
 deep enough to impede their progress. 
 
 With so encouraging a prospect as this before 
 their eyes, it may be easily imagined that Gus and 
 Jerry did not spend any unnecessary time over their 
 bacon and crackers. When they had satisfied their 
 appetites, Gilbert's pack, together with all the arti- 
 cles belonging to Gus and Jeriy, was fastened upon 
 Tom's back, and the three set out in high spirits for 
 Uncle Jack's ranch. 
 
 It wasn't a pleasure trip, by any means. Having 
 almost lived in the saddle ever since they came to 
 the West, Gus and Jerry found that there was no fun 
 in walking, and they were weary long before they 
 had covered ten of the forty miles that lay between 
 them and Uncle Jack's roof ; but about the time 
 they began to talk of stopping to take a short rest, 
 Gilbert infused new courage into them by announc- 
 ing that there was a rescue party approaching. 
 
 "Yes, sir ! " exclaimed Jerry, after he had taken a 
 good look at the horsemen who were coming rapidly 
 toward them, "they are looking for us. I believe 
 that head man is Uncle Jack." 
 
 In order to make sure of it, Jerry pulled off his 
 hat and swung it around his head. The signal was 
 promptly answered, and a few minutes later Gilbert 
 and his party were surrounded by a dozen or more 
 cowboys, who, according to Jerry's way of looking at 
 it, did not show as much pleasure as the}' ought to 
 have done at meeting him and his brother safe and 
 sound. Their city friends would have made a great 
 fuss over them ; but the cowboys simply shook their 
 hands and said " howdy." Although Uncle Jack was 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 179 
 
 immensely relieved to find that the boys werenone 
 the worse for their experience with the blizzaid, he 
 
 seemed quite as indifferent as the rest ; but he was 
 surprised when he found who their companion was. 
 "Put it there, partner," said he bemlmg down 
 from his saddle and extending his hand to Gilbert. 
 «I am ^lad that storm came and caught my boys 
 just as it did, for it has given me the ™ry opportun- 
 ity I have been waiting for ever since Captain Bient 
 had that fight in the canyon. I suppose the boys 
 have told you all about them papers. Well what 
 are yon going to do ? You can speak plainly if you 
 want to, for we are all on your side, and we know 
 how to hold our tongues, too." 
 
 " I feel very grateful for the interest you take m 
 my affairs, Mr". Waldron," begun Gilbert 
 
 « Of course. You would be a queer feliow if jou 
 didn't," interrupted Uncle Jack. " But that isn t an- 
 swering my question. I've got as much as two or 
 three years more on my shoulders than you have on 
 
 y °« I 'know what you mean by that." said Gilbert, 
 -and shall be very glad to have yoii l advise me. I 
 had made up my mind to go down to Fort Sha* and 
 call on the trader." 
 
 " Put it there ! " exclaimed Uncle Jack, again 
 thrusting out his hand. "I had a notion of doing 
 the same thing ; but I will go with vou and look on 
 if vou don't mind. Give him a horse, one of you, 
 and let two others take the boys up behind. Take 
 Gilbert's horse and the packs to the ranch, and look 
 for us day after tomorrow." . 
 
 These orders were obeyed almost as rapidh as 
 thev were given, and presently two parties were ru- 
 in" away in opposite directions., Uncle Jack and Gil- 
 bert heading for the hills, and the cowboys going 
 toward the ranch. 
 
180 GILBERT THE TRAPPEK. 
 
 "I don't like to have them go off alone that way," 
 said Jerry, at length. "If the trader is the terrible 
 fellow that Buckskin Bob thinks he is, Uncle Jack 
 and Gilbert may get into trouble with him." 
 
 "Don't bother your head about that," said one of 
 the cowboys, reassuringly. "I don't know anything 
 about the young feller, 'cepting what I have heard, 
 but your uncle is too old a coon to let anybody get 
 the drop on him. 'Tain't no sign that the trader is 
 a bad man in a row jest 'cause Bob says so." 
 
 "But suppose Grizzly Pete should be there," said 
 Gus. 
 
 " Aw ! he wouldn't do anything," said another, 
 contemptuously. " He never does anything unless 
 he's got a lot of Injuns at his back so that he can 
 throw the blame on their shoulders. A man who 
 will sail under false colors ain't the man to be afraid 
 of." 
 
 " What do you mean by that ? " 
 
 " Why, you know, don't you, that when an Injun 
 kills a grizzly he is entitled to wear the claws around 
 his neck ? That stamps him as a very brave man, 
 equal to the one that has taken many scalps, and you 
 could hardly offer him ponies enough to induce him 
 to part with them claws. Well, Pete has made out to 
 steal a necklace of that kind somewhere, and calls him- 
 self Grizzly Pete, claiming to have killed the bear that 
 owned the claws ; but he has never been able to make 
 anybody about here believe a word of it. Here come 
 them soldiers we saw the other day. I wonder if 
 they caught them four deserters." 
 
 The cowboy's last words were called forth by the 
 sight of a scouting party of cavalrymen, who just 
 then came in sight a short distance away. 
 
 " Well, sergeant, did you find them fellers? " one of 
 the cowboys shouted, as soon as the soldiers came 
 within hail. 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 181 
 
 The non commissioned officer who was in command 
 of the squad drew rein long enough to reply that he 
 had found no traces of the deserters of whom he was 
 in chase. He had no idea which way they had gone, 
 and the storm had effectually covered their trail. . 
 
 The sergeant added that he wasn't sorry he had 
 missed them, for there were four of them in the 
 party, all well mouuted and armed, and they would 
 have made a desperate fight, rather than permit 
 themselves to be captured and taken back to the 
 post. 
 
 " What was their object in deserting at this time 
 of year, any way? " asked one of the cowboys. 
 
 " I don't know," answered the sergeant. " They've 
 got some plan or other in their heads, but what it is 
 I can't imagine. I will bet a month's pay that they 
 wished themselves back at Fort Shaw about the time 
 that blizzard came upon them." 
 
 Waving his hand the sergeant galloped on to over- 
 take his squad, while the cow r boys continued on their 
 way toward Uncle Jack's ranch. 
 
 "What fellows are they?" inquired Gus. " Why 
 do men desert out here on the plains ? I thought 
 they did that only in war times." 
 
 " They do it any time they get sick of the service, 
 no matter when it is," answered one of the cowboys. 
 "At the close of the war there was a heap of it done. 
 Having enlisted for 'three years or the war,' the 
 soldiers contended that they ought to be sent home 
 instead of being ordered to guard duty on the 
 frontier, and they deserted by hundreds, thereby 
 forfeiting all the pay the government owed them. 
 But they didn't care for that. They were heartily 
 tired of the army and wanted to be free men once 
 more." 
 
 "The Black Hills gold excitement was one thing 
 that set them to going," remarked another cowboy. 
 
182 GILBERT THE TKAPPEB. 
 
 " Yes ; the prospect of making money always sets 
 them crazy," said a third. " Let a party of cavalry- 
 men discover signs of gold during a scout, and it's 
 ten to one if the whole of that party ever gets back 
 to the post to which they belong." 
 
 " I should think they would be afraid of the In- 
 dians," said Jerry. 
 
 " Well, as a general thing they go between times. 
 If the Indians are bad, they stay at the post till they 
 get quiet again. They run a quick risk at all times, 
 and more than one party of deserters have left their 
 bones whitening on the plain." 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 183 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 CAPTAIN BARTON'S DEFEAT. 
 
 Meanwhile Gilbert and his companion were mating 
 rapid headway toward the hills. Knowing that they 
 would be obliged to camp out at least one night on 
 the way to the fort, they decided to halt in the canyon 
 where Gilbert had found the boys. Of course the 
 young trapper had to go all oyer his story again for 
 TJncle Jack's benefit, and the ranchman showed as 
 deep an interest in the recital as his nephews did 
 
 He perfectly agreed with Gilbert that if the latter 
 could only get hold of the rest of the papers, or 
 secure a copy of them, he would have plain sailing 
 before him. 'The trader could not read them, that 
 was evident, or else he would not have waited so long 
 before taking possession of the nuggets and dust 
 that were concealed in Sweetwater Canyon. Gus 
 Warren, Uncle Jack declared, was the only person 
 on the reservation who could make sense out of that 
 cryptogram. Perhaps we shall see that the confident 
 old ranchman made a great mistake when he said 
 
 At four o'clock the next afternoon the stockade 
 that was known far and near as Fort Shaw was in 
 plain sight. Uncle Jack and his young associate 
 must haye made up their minds just what to do 
 when they got there, for without stopping to ex- 
 change a word with each other, they rode at once to 
 the trader's store, and dismounted in front of it. 
 
184 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 Leaving his horse to take care of himself, Gilbert 
 pushed open the door and entered, with Uncle Jack 
 Waldron close at bis heels. 
 
 Captain Barton was alone in the store — or at least 
 they thought he was ; but if there had been a dozen 
 men present, it would not have made the least differ- 
 ence to Gilbert the trapper. He had come there after 
 those papers, and he meant to have them before he 
 went out again. 
 
 When Uncle Jack closed the door he turned the 
 key in the lock, while Gilbert kept on and confronted 
 the trader. 
 
 " Captain Barton," said he, in his blandest tones, 
 "I understand that you have in your possession 
 copies of certain documents which are of no interest 
 or value to you, but which contain some information 
 that it is important for me to know. Will you be 
 kind enough to hand them over tome? What in 
 the world can be the matter with him, 1 wonder?" 
 added Gilbert, to himself. "He trembles like a leaf. 
 He must have seen us coming and known by the way 
 we rode that our errand boded no good to him." 
 
 That was the secret of the trader's agitation, and 
 it was also the reason why Pete Axley, who was in 
 the store with him, and who knew that there was no 
 possible chance for him to escape from the building 
 without being seen, dodged under one of the counters 
 and pulled a pile of skins on top of him. 
 
 Captain Barton looked at Gilbert, who was appar- 
 ently as calm as a summer's morning, then at the de- 
 termined old man who stood wdth his back against 
 the door and his revolver in his hand, and instantly 
 decided upon his line of defense. 
 
 " I am sure I don't know what you mean," he be- 
 gan ; and Gilbert's right hand went around to the 
 butt of his own revolver. " I have the copy of a 
 letter here with the name of ' Gilbert ' upon it, but 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 185 
 
 whether or not it is anything in which you are inter- 
 ested I do not know. I will gladly show it to 
 
 5 "You mean that you will give it to me," interposed 
 Gilbert. "It belongs to me, and you know it well 
 
 enough." _ _ ,, 
 
 While the trader was talking he moved down the 
 store toward his desk, and Gilbert stepped behind 
 the counter and followed him. 
 
 "You have copies of two papers that belong to 
 me," said the latter, in a quiet, even voice which 
 alarmed his listener not a little. " One is a letter 
 written in plain English, and the other is one that 
 you haven't been able to make out yet. If you had, 
 you would have been after that money in Sweet- 
 water Canyon before this time." 
 
 The hand with which the trader lifted the lid of 
 his desk trembled visibly, while the concealed listener 
 under the counter was so astounded that he could 
 hardly refrain from giving utterance to the oath that 
 arose to his lips. At that moment Pete Axley would 
 willingly have given his share of the dust and nug- 
 gets to any one who would tell -him where Gilbert 
 the trapper got all his information. 
 
 Captain Barton did not say a word. He dared not 
 trust himself to speak, and besides he knew that 
 Gilbert would not believe a word he said. The boy s 
 eyes had a savage glitter in them, and the trader 
 could not help wondering what he wouid do when 
 he got the coveted papers in his hands. 
 
 Almost overcome with amazement and alarm, Cap- 
 tain Barton laid the lid of his desk against a pile of 
 ^oods that were stowed upon the counter, raised a 
 package of letters in one corner, took out an en- 
 velope and was about to pass it to Gilbert, when he 
 saw, with added astonishment, that it was not the 
 one he wanted. 
 
186 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 Hurriedly lie tumbled over the letters, and just as 
 Gilbert was expecting to bear him declare that the 
 papers of which he was in search had been abstracted 
 from his desk, he picked up another envelope and 
 handed it over with the remark that that was the 
 one he was looking for, and that it had been mislaid. 
 
 Then it was Gilbert's turn to show excitement. He 
 read the letter without the least trouble, but the 
 cryptogram bothered him just as it had bothered the 
 trader. 
 
 " Mr. Waldron," said he, " will you be good enough 
 to step this way a moment ? I want to be sure that I 
 have got what I want." 
 
 Before Uncle Jack left the door, he took the pre- 
 caution to put the key into his pocket. Then he 
 walked up to the counter and placed his pistol upon 
 it within easy reach of his hand. He looked 
 sharply at both the papers, and finally gave it as his 
 opinion that they were true copies of the originals. 
 
 " Then we have nothing further to do here," said 
 Gilbert, whose self control was wonderful. "Cap- 
 tain, we will bid you good day. I suppose this is a 
 great surprise to you, and a disappointment as well. 
 Of course I feel very grateful toward } T ou for at- 
 tempting to defraud me of my rights." 
 
 " But I don't," roared Uncle Jack, pounding upon 
 the counter with the butt of his heavy revolver, and 
 leaving a huge dent after each blow. " If I wasn't 
 opposed to all such doings, I would raise such a row 
 about this business that all the blue coats on the 
 reservation couldn't protect you, you — you ■" 
 
 Utterly at a loss for a w r ord strong enough to ex- 
 press his contempt for the cringing man on the other 
 side of the counter, Uncle Jack shook his fist in his 
 face, turned on his heel and started for the door. 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 187 
 
 CHAPTER XXYI. 
 
 THE JOURNEY TO SWEETWATER CANYON. 
 
 "Nevins, Nevins ! " murmured Gilbert the trapper, 
 as he and Uncle Jack "Waldron galloped away from 
 the trader's store. " My name is Gilbert Hubbard 
 Nevins." 
 
 " So it seems," replied his companion. " Buckskin 
 Bob could not tell the truth, even when lie thought 
 he was going to die, could he? I knew he was de- 
 ceiving me, find that the Iltes were responsible for 
 the death of those miners, as well as I know it now ; 
 but I could not prove it. I believed that time would 
 make everything straight." 
 
 "I've got the papers,'' said Gilbert, gleefully, 
 "and now all that remains is for me to open that 
 cache. My father lived in Clayton, Massachusetts. 
 Is that very far from here? " 
 
 "I never heard of such a place as Clayton," an- 
 swered Uncle Jack. " But Massachusetts must be 
 all of two thousand miles from here in a straight 
 line. How many miles you would have to travel to 
 get there, I don't know." 
 
 "How shall I go to work to find out if any of my 
 relatives are still living there? " continued Gilbert. 
 
 "Write a letter to the postmaster, telling him that 
 you want to get on the trail of your folks, who used 
 to live in Clayton, and asking him to give the letter 
 into the hands of some honest lawyer of his acquaint- 
 
188 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 ance," replied Uncle Jack. " He'll do it — such things 
 are often done. Then the lawyer will write to you, 
 and you can tell him what you want him to do." 
 
 " I declare I can hardly hold myself in the saddle," 
 exclaimed Gilbert ; but that was no news to Uncle 
 Jack. If he had had as good a prospect of seeing 
 his relatives as Gilbert seemed to have, he would 
 have been excited himself. 
 
 But after all, thought Uncle Jack, a good many 
 changes must have taken place in Clayton since Gil- 
 bert's fatber left it to seek his fortune in the gold 
 mines. A multitude of people die or move away in 
 that time, even in a little country town, and who 
 could tell but that all Gilbert's relatives had disap- 
 peared ? 
 
 The old ranchman did not say a word of this, how- 
 ever. His young companion w T as supremely happy 
 for once in his life, and the future looked very bright 
 to him. Why not let him enjoy himself while he 
 could ? 
 
 "If this turns out all right, I shall always bless the 
 day I fired that lucky shot up there in the canyon," 
 thought Uncle Jack, allowing his gaze to rest for a 
 moment on Gilbert's glowing face. "But there's 
 mauy a slip — there's many a slip." 
 
 The miles that lay between Fort Shaw and Uncle 
 Jack's ranch seemed to have lengthened out since 
 the last time they passed over them, but in due sea- 
 son they drew rein in front of its hospitable doors, 
 and found Gus and Jerry Warren waiting to welcome 
 them. There was no need for the boys to ask if they 
 had succeeded in getting the papers, for the smile 
 on Gilbert's face and Uncle Jack's answered the 
 question while it was trembling on their lips. 
 
 "Were — er — did he hand them over without mak- 
 ing any objections? " inquired Jerry, leading the way 
 into the house. 
 
GILBERT THE TKAPPEE. 189 
 
 "He was as peaceable and quiet as a lamb," replied 
 
 Uncle Jack, as he drew a chair up in front o the fire 
 and motioned to Gilbert to occupy it. I don t 
 know when I have seen a man so willm' to accommo- 
 date a feller as that trader was. The minute he 
 found out what Gilbert wanted, he went to his desk 
 and trot em— the very minute." . 
 
 Gas noticed that his relative did not say anything 
 about the means that he and ^dber had used to 
 make the trader so accommodating, and he knei\ 
 that it would not do any good to pry into the matter. 
 
 "Did vou see Grizzly Pete ? " asked Jerry. 
 
 "No-he «"•* th ^' e ' N ° W ' G T' tr °\ ° Ut i u 
 papers I gave vou t'other day, and then se yourself 
 
 down at that table and make sense out of the rest of 
 
 GuJi-eadilTcomplied, for he was quite as impa- 
 tient to know what the cryptogram said as Gilbeit 
 lias e en though he did not have as deep an interest 
 n rt The ftrft thing he did was to compare the 
 copies with those portions of the original letter and 
 crvptogram that Uncle Jack had found m B«ckskm 
 Bob's tobacco box, and he saw in a moment that Gil- 
 bert 1 ad not been deceived-that the trader had 
 made correct copies of all the lepers whicli he 1 ad 
 surrendered on demand, instead ot substituting 
 others as Gus was afraid he might have done The 
 ktto and cryptogram both bore the same date and 
 
 Sl ^tt must be a great relief to Gilbert to know what 
 his name is and where Ids father's folks live ' thought 
 Gus? as he seated himself at the table and began Ins 
 work upon the cipher. " I never saw him so worked 
 up before. I only hope that things will turn out as 
 be seems to think they will ; but what if he should 
 go to "hat cache and' find that some one has been 
 there and dug it up? He wouldn't care much foi 
 
190 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 the loss of the dust and nuggets, but he would 
 
 always live under the belief that if he had got there 
 
 first, he would have found some more important 
 
 papers." 
 
 Knowing just how to go about it, Gus did not 
 
 take more than ten minutes to translate the entire 
 
 cryptogram. At the end of that time he arose from 
 
 the table and handed Gilbert the following : 
 
 On the left hand side of the canyon, three miles from leaning 
 scrub oak tree at entrance, under hanging rock, two feet below 
 surface. Remove leaves and stones, and the fruits of years of 
 toil will be revealed. Give it to my boy, I pray you ; it belongs 
 to him. 
 
 For a long time Gilbert the trapper, as I shall con- 
 tinue to call him, sat with his eyes fastened upon the 
 paper, and no one spoke to him. What thoughts of 
 the past and hopes for the future crowded and jostled 
 one another in his busy brain, nobody except himself 
 ever knew. 
 
 Gilbert had little of the poetic fancy about him, 
 and he could not have put them into words if he had 
 tried. Neither can I. He was very quiet, and had 
 little to say after that ; and when he followed Uncle 
 Jack to his room at an early hour, he did not go 
 there to sleep. 
 
 Insomnia had never troubled him before, but it sat 
 by his pillow the livelong night, and Gilbert never 
 closed his eyes in slumber. He was so impatient to 
 be off that he would hardly eat any breakfast, or 
 wait until Uncle Jack could get the expedition ready 
 to take the trail. For it was a work of no small mag- 
 nitude that the good natured ranchman had taken 
 upon himself when he promised to stand by Gilbert 
 and assist him until he had made himself master of 
 the treasure that was concealed in Sweetwater Can- 
 yon, although he talked of it with the same indiffer- 
 ence that you would talk of taking a walk to the 
 post office. 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 191 
 
 Winter was fairly upon them (it promised to be a 
 severe one, too, Uncle Jack said), and the canyon 
 was all of two hundred miles away. It was no boy's 
 play to travel that distance at that season of the 
 year, and in order to make the journey with any 
 prospect of success, it was necessary that they should 
 go prepared to face all sorts of weather. 
 
 Consequently it took time to get ready, and dinner 
 was served up before Sam reported that all the ar- 
 rangements had been made. 
 
 " Look here," said Gus, who listened attentively to 
 all Uncle Jack's orders, and watched the £>repara- 
 tions with a critical eye. "You haven't made any 
 provision for Jerry and me, and neither have you 
 said one word about us." 
 
 " Why, yes, we have," replied the ranchman. " You 
 are to stay here, as snug as bugs in a rug, while Gil- 
 bert and me and a couple of cowbo3 T s go into the 
 hills and run the risk of freezing to death or being 
 chewed up by mountain lions in the effort to find 
 the place where those things are hidden. What 
 other provision do you want made for you and 
 Jerry?" 
 
 "Why, we want to hear you tell Sam to bring out 
 a horse apiece for us, and see our grub put into the 
 pack," replied Gus. "That's what we want." 
 
 One would have thought, by the way Uncle Jack 
 opened his eyes, that he was very much surprised at 
 this, but he wasn't. He had been looking for it ever 
 since he announced his determination to go with his 
 guest in search of the cache ; but he knew by exj:>e- 
 rien^e that the foothills were no place for tender- 
 feet in winter. 
 
 " The idea of such a thing ! " he exclaimed. " i 
 don't want to carry you down to the post and watch 
 the doctor patch you up after being frostbitten, and 
 I ain't going to run any risks. If it was summer we 
 
192 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 would take you along to pay you for reading that 
 cryptogram for us; but as it is, it ain't to be thought 
 of." 
 
 That settled the matter; and Gus and Jerry stood 
 on the porch an hour after dinner, and waved a sor- 
 rowful farewell to Uncle Jack and Gilbert as they 
 rode away. 
 
 They took four cowboys with them to help find the 
 cache and to look oat for the pack mules. There 
 were two of these useful animals, and each one of 
 them carried a hug-e pack saddle, which was filled to 
 the top with blankets and provisions for the party, 
 together with spades and picks with which to un- 
 earth the treasure after they had located it with the 
 aid of the translation that Gilbert had in his pocket. 
 
 They were gone a whole month — and came back 
 empty handed. 
 
 While on their journey they suffered severely from 
 the cold, and all of them were more or less frost- 
 bitten. Old winter opened his vials of wrath upon 
 them, sent blizzard after blizzard to beat upon their 
 devoted heads, blocked them up in the canyons and 
 pinched their ears and toes in camp, and the nearer 
 they approached to the goal of their hopes, the 
 harder he tried to drive them back. 
 
 They kept on in spite of it all, and at last found 
 the cache ; but it was empty. Somebody had been 
 there before them. 
 
 During their absence a most remarkable thing 
 happened within a short distance of Uncle Jack's 
 ranch. 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 195 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 THE THIEF OF THE CRYPTOGRAM. 
 
 The moment his front door closed upon Uncle 
 Jack Waldron's retreating form, Captain Barton's 
 terror vanished, and he went into a towering pas- 
 sion. Dashing both his clinched hands upon the 
 lid of his desk, lie hurried to the window and stood 
 there until Gilbert and his friend had ridden out of 
 sight. 
 
 Hearing a slight sound behind him, he turned 
 about and saw the squaw man on his hands and 
 knees under the counter, every part of his person 
 except his head concealed by the skins which he had 
 pulled over on him when Gilbert the trapper dis- 
 mounted in front of the store. His face was the pic- 
 ture of astonishment, and he was swearing softly to 
 himself. 
 
 " Be we awake ? " he managed to articulate. " Seems 
 like a bad dream, don't it? Whar do you reckon 
 Gilbert found out about them papers ? " 
 
 "I w T ish I knew," answered the trader, leaving the 
 window and striding up and down the floor. "I 
 knew the minute I saw him and \Valdron coming 
 toward the store at that furious rate that there was 
 something in the wind." 
 
 " Me, too," said the squaw man. M An' that's the 
 reason I got under yer." 
 
 "Well, crawl out now, and put those skins back 
 where you found them. I warned you long ago that 
 
194 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 we bad secret enemies all around us, and now you 
 know it as well as I do. Gilbert's got the papers — 
 bat they won't do him one particle of good." 
 
 " Eh ? " said the squaw man, pausing in his work 
 of piling up the skins. 
 
 " I spoke plainly enough, didn't I ? " snapped the 
 trader. " I say those papers will not do Gilbert the 
 least good, because if that cache hasn't been robbed 
 before this, it will be when he gets to it." 
 
 The squaw man's astonishment was so great that 
 he could not go on with his work. He climbed upon 
 the counter, stared fixedly at Captain Barton, and 
 waited for him to explain. 
 
 " I know exactly where I put that envelope the 
 last time I looked at the papers that were in it," 
 continued the trader ; " but when I came to look for 
 it, it wasn't there. It was somewhere else; and that 
 proves that some prying person has been fooling 
 jibout in my desk." 
 
 " I never ! " said Grizzly Pete, earnestly. 
 
 "Who said you had?" replied Captain Barton, 
 contemptuously. "What would you do with val- 
 uable j>apers, when you can't tell a white man's writ- 
 ing from turkey tracks ? I wish I could only get a 
 good grip on that rascal's collar. I would land him 
 in the military prison before I let up, I bet you." 
 
 " Did he steal 'em ? " 
 
 " I couldn't have given them up to Gilbert if he 
 had stolen them, could I ? He copied them, and 
 that's just as bad." 
 
 " Who do you reckon done it ? " 
 
 " That villain, Dawson." 
 
 "Whoop ! " yelled the squaw man, jumping off the 
 counter and dancing about over the floor as though 
 he had accidentally stepped on something hot. "An' 
 he's desarted the post, him an' them other fellers, 
 an' gone to dig up them dust and nuggets ? " 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 195 
 
 tsre 
 e 
 
 "You have hit it," replied the trader, whose 
 would not permit him to speak as plainly as h 
 usually did. " Listen to this : I found it in the desk 
 and shoved it into my pocket before Gilbert saw it. 
 I knew that he would find that cache empty when he 
 ff ot to it, but I didn't dare tell him so, for he and old 
 man Waldron were all ready to shoot, and mad 
 enough to do it, too. Besides, I wanted to have 
 them make that long journey through the snow, and 
 no to a heap of trouble for nothing." 
 
 As Captain Barton said this he drew out a small 
 piece of crumpled paper and read as follows : 
 
 r^A hv pan Much obliged to you for taking me in to wait 
 on th^stire Ind cheat the Indians, for it has been ^making 
 
 ffir Wefi can Whv didn't you take me into your confi- 
 
 nnd T would not have been driven to desert.' Hoping tnese 
 few lines will find you well, as they leave me, I remote. 
 
 "Whoop!" yelled the squaw man, again. "The 
 fortius gone, an' here's us as poor as a church mice 
 Cap, if vou'd a took that feller in with you an left 
 me out in the cold, I would a popped you both over 
 shore's you're born." m . 
 
 "What's the use of going on in that wa} i said, 
 the trader, in disgust. " I didn't take him m, for I 
 didn't know that he or anybody else about the post 
 could read that cryptogram. If I had known it he 
 added to himself, "you may be sure thatOE. would 
 have crone to him the first thing. Thats the end of 
 thai dream, and it's the way all my dreams end. I 
 shall never have another chance like it while I live 
 
 "Say, cap," said Grizzly Pete, suddenly "who do 
 you reckon Gilbert's going to get to read that Dutch 
 paper for him ? " 
 
196 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 The trader said lie couldn't guess. 
 
 "Wal, now, how do we know but what Dawson 
 meant to hunt him up an' offer to go snucks with 
 him?" 
 
 Captain Barton started, and took time to consider 
 before answering. 
 
 "I don't think that was his intention," said he, 
 after a pause. " If he had meant to do that he would 
 not have taken three fellows with him to share in the 
 profits. No, sir. He and his companions have gone 
 straight to Sweetwater to dig up that money. We 
 shall never see the color of it, and neither will Gil- 
 bert. There's some consolation in that." 
 
 These two worthy men spent an hour or more in 
 trying to solve the problems that had presented 
 themselves during this discussion, but the only point 
 on which they were positive was that Dawson had 
 made a copy of the papers he had found in the 
 trader's desk, and deserted his post with the inten- 
 tion of hunting up Gilbert's money. The note he 
 left behind him was proof enough of that. 
 
 And now it remains for me to tell who Dawson 
 was, and how he came to have access to the trader's 
 desk, which was marked " private," and was gener- 
 ally kept locked. 
 
 He was one of the laziest and most turbulent 
 members of the 90th Cavalry. He never volunteered 
 for any duty, was always in trouble, and seldom kept 
 out of the guard house for a week at a time when his 
 company was at the fort, He had been punished 
 for nearly every offense known to military law, with 
 the exception of desertion. The military prison at 
 Leavenworth loomed up before his eyes every time 
 he thought of that. 
 
 He had years enough on his shoulders to know 
 better (his descriptive list gave his age as thirty 
 two), but not even the chance of winning a non com- 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 197 
 
 missioned officer's warrant could induce him to make 
 the slightest change in his conduct. He loafed about 
 the trader's when he was off duty, and finally got into 
 the way of looking out for things in the store during 
 the captain's absence. 
 
 One day he did some thing that was so much more 
 contemptible than the trader would have stooped to 
 himself, that he excited that gentleman's admiration, 
 and won his lasting friendship. 
 
 A contractor, who had undertaken to supply a dis- 
 tant post with fuel, ow r ed an agency Indian for cat- 
 ting sixty cords of wood, for each of which he was to 
 receive a dollar and a half in trade. He gave him 
 an order on Captain Barton for ninety dollars' worth 
 of goods, and the Indian rode more than seventy 
 miles to reach the store, where he received in pay- 
 ment for his labor just sixty cupfuls of sugar. Daw- 
 son, who happened to be tending the store in the 
 trader's absence, gave it to him. The cup with which 
 the measuring was done was small, and the sugar 
 had quite as much sand as saccharine in it. When 
 Captain Barton heard of it on his return, he patted 
 Dawson on the back, told him that he was cut out 
 for an Indian trader, and gave him a cigar. 
 
 From that time forward Dawson had the free run 
 of the store. He was not dishonest, but he icas a 
 sneak. No doubt you have seen boys who, the min- 
 ute they find themselves alone in the house, become 
 possessed of an irresistible desire to pry into things. 
 They ransack every closet, peep into drawers, raise 
 the lids of all the trunks they find unlocked, not w r ith 
 the intention of stealing anything, but just to see 
 what they can find. 
 
 That was the kind of boy Dawson was in his young 
 days, and it was the kind of man he grew to be. One 
 day, when he was alone in the store, he took a notion 
 to look into the trader's desk, read his letters and 
 
198 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 find out what he had in there that was so valuable 
 that he kept the lid fastened all the time. 
 
 So with the aid of a file and a piece of wire, he 
 fashioned a key that let him into the secrets of the 
 man who trusted him. He read several of his letters 
 without discovering anything in them that was im- 
 portant enough to be kept under lock and key, until 
 at last, from the very bottom of the package, just 
 where the captain had left it, and where he expected 
 to find it again when he wanted it, Dawson drew out 
 an envelope whose contents made him open his eyes. 
 
 A few swift glances made him master of all the in- 
 formation that was to be found in the letter, at the 
 bottom of which was a copy of the cryptogram. Be- 
 low that was an entry or two that Captain Barton 
 never would have made there if he had had any 
 reason to believe that any eyes other than his own 
 would ever rest upon the paper. They ran in this 
 way : 
 
 I wonder if Gilbert the trapper would not be willing to give 
 half that hundred thousand if he could have this paper in his 
 hand long enough to make a copy of it. The cipher contains 
 a full description of the place in which the nuggets and dust 
 are hidden. If I can only make it out- 
 Six months later— I have tried every way I can think of, but 
 the cryptogram remains a sealed book to me. I shall have to 
 give it up, and lose my share of that hundred thousand. Wish 
 I had a partner who was worth his salt. 
 
 " Well, then, why didn't you come to me ? " solilo- 
 quized Dawson, who could scarcely refrain from 
 giving full vent to his exultation. " I've got a valu- 
 able secret in my hands, haven't I? What shall I do 
 with it ? That is what troubles me now." 
 
 It did not trouble him so much that it interfered 
 with his movements. He seized a pen and began 
 copying everything that was written on the paper. 
 
 Before he had gone far, a step on the threshold 
 caused him to pause in great alarm. 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 199 
 
 CHAPTER XXVUI. 
 
 DAWSON HAS AN IDEA. 
 
 " Oh, it's you, is it, Pilkins ? " exclaimed Dawson, 
 when he saw that the man who came into the store 
 was not the trader, but one of his own company boys. 
 "I thought you were in the guard house." 
 
 "Just got'out," growled Pilkins, who was another 
 fellow who did not know how to behave himself. _ " I 
 tell you, Dawson, I am getting tired of this thing. 
 When a little fice of a boy lieutenant can report me 
 and get me into trouble for just nothing at all— I say 
 I won't stand it, I am going to desert the first good 
 chance I get, prison or no prison." 
 
 "If that is vour intention, what is the use ot pub- 
 lishing it?" inquired Dawson. "Say," he added, m 
 a lower tone. "Stand by the window and act as 
 lookout for me, will you? If you ne any one com- 
 ing toward the store, let me know." 
 "What are you up to?" 
 
 " Nothing at all that I am ashamed of. I am using 
 Barton's pen and ink to write a letter ; but I 
 shouldn't like to have him catch me at it, for he never 
 allows anybody to go behind this rear counter.' 
 
 Pilkins winked at Dawson as if to say that he could 
 tell a story that was worth two or three of that, but 
 he went to the window, while the other resumed his 
 writing. He completed his task in a few minutes, 
 and then locked the desk and came out from behind 
 counter. 
 
200 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 " I am heartily sick of soldiering," said Pilkins, as 
 lie moved away from the window. " If I ever swear 
 away my liberty again I hope I may be shot for it. 
 It's a bad season of the year to quit comfortable 
 quarters and go philandering off over the plains, but 
 there's no help for it that I can see. I can't wait 
 until spring, and that's all there is about it." 
 
 " Anybody going with you ? " asked Dawson, care- 
 lessly. 
 
 " Not that I know of. You are the first one I have 
 spoken to about it." 
 
 " Got any money ? " 
 
 " Not a red, and I shall lose the four months' pay 
 that the government owes me ; but I don't care for 
 that. If I could induce the right sort of fellows to 
 join me, and we could make our escape with our 
 horses and weapons, as Lawless and his party did, 
 we might hold up a stage and get enough money to 
 see us through." 
 
 " But Lawless didn't," exclaimed Dawson. " He 
 got a hole through his arm, and he is now at Leaven- 
 worth, serving out a long sentence for attempted 
 highway robbery. Holding up stages isn't fun." 
 
 " I understand that," replied Pilkins. " But it isn't 
 at all probable that Gilbert the trapper will show up 
 again as he did when Lawless stopped the Durango 
 coach. That was an accident, and it may not happen 
 again for years." 
 
 And this reminds me of the story that Lieutenant 
 Forrest promised to tell Gus and Jeriw Warren the 
 first time he " got a day off." 
 
 This man Lawless was appropriately named, for he 
 was certainly one of the most lawless characters that 
 had ever been received into the regular army. In 
 less than six months after he arrived at Fort Shaw 
 he had seen as much of a soldier's life as he wanted 
 to see, and forthwith laid his plans to desert with 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 201 
 
 his horse and weapons. He succeeded, too, and in 
 company with three other desperate men, started for 
 the Pacific coast, with the intention of taking pas- 
 sage on some vessel bound for the States. 
 
 They had but little ready money among them, and 
 as long as they wore their uniforms they dared not 
 offer their horses for sale, for fear of exciting suspi- 
 cion. There was but one way in which they could 
 obtain the fund they needed, and that was to "hold 
 up " the Durango stage and rob the passengers. 
 The fact that they had never heard of a single fail- 
 ure on the part of the "road agents" who used to 
 infest that part of the country encouraged them in 
 the belief that they might be equally successful. 
 
 No doubt they would have been, had it not been 
 for the timely appearance of Gilbert the trapper, 
 who, by the merest accident, came upon the scene 
 just as Lawless, with a handkerchief over his face 
 and a revolver in his hand, rode up in front of the 
 stage and commanded the driver to halt and pay his 
 toll. 
 
 Gilbert saw at a glance what was going on, and 
 without stopping to parley, he raised his rifle and 
 sent a ball through the robber's arm. That took all 
 the courage out of Lawless, and out of his comrades, 
 too. The latter had been ordered to come out of 
 their places of concealment and surround the stage 
 the moment their leader brought it to a halt ; but 
 they were afraid to do it. 
 
 They drew farther back into the bushes when they 
 saw Lawless fall from his horse, and if the driver of 
 the coach had showed a little more courage, every 
 one of the deserters might have been captured then 
 and there ; but he whipped up his horses, and made 
 all haste to put himself and his passengers out of 
 reach of the storm of bullets which he thought would 
 be poured upon them from the thickets. 
 
202 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 " There hasn't been a stage held up in this part of 
 the country since Lawless got his sentence," contin- 
 ued Dawson. " There is no need of it, for I know 
 where we can get a hundred thousand dollars by 
 simply digging it out of the ground. t It will come 
 out of Gilbert Nevins's pocket, too." 
 
 "Who's Gilbert Nevins ? " asked Pilkins. 
 
 "We know him as Gilbert the trapper," replied 
 Dawson, speaking as rapidly as he could, for he saw 
 the trader approaching. "While I was rummaging 
 in Barton's desk to see what I could find there that 
 was worth looking at, I came across a paper that 
 made me wonder. The rumors we have heard about 
 that boy are, in a measure, true. His father was a 
 miner, who was killed somewhere near Sweetwater 
 Canyon ; but before he died, he buried dust and 
 nuggets to the amount of a hundred thousand dol- 
 lars, and the paper I spoke of tells where to find the 
 cache. I have got a copy of it. I was at work on it 
 when you came in and frightened me. How Barton 
 came into possession of the papers I don't know ; 
 but I do know that he has never made out to read the 
 cipher that tells where the money is hidden." 
 
 " Can you read it ? " 
 
 " I believe I can, but I must study on it first. Now, 
 if I take you in with me, will you agree that I shall 
 manage the thing from beginning to end, and that 
 you will leave me to select the fellows who are to go 
 with us? Four are enough. That will give us 
 twenty five thousand apiece." 
 
 " I will agree to anything you may propose," said 
 Pilkins, eagerly. " If I can get away from here and 
 go home with that amount of money in my pocket, 
 you will never catch me in a fix like this again." 
 
 At this moment the trader came up (he would not 
 have greeted them as pleasantly as he did if he had 
 known what had been going on in the store during 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 203 
 
 his absence), and the two cavalrymen bent their steps 
 toward the barracks. 
 
 There were plenty of soldiers in there, but tney 
 paid no attention to Dawson and his companion as 
 they took their stand at one of the windows and re- 
 sumed their conversation. Of course Pilkins became 
 highly excited after he had read the letter, but his 
 countenance fell when he saw the cryptogram. 
 
 "You must be crazy if you think you can make 
 sense out of such looking words as these," said he, in 
 a low tone. "Why, Captain Barton has been at 
 
 work on it for six months, and I " 
 
 "Longer than that," Dawson interposed. "At 
 least you would think so if you could see the paper 
 I found in his desk. It looks as though it had been 
 read and studied for years. I tell you I can read it 
 if you onlv give me time." 
 
 "All right," answered Pilkins. "I certainly hope 
 you can, and that we shall find out where the money 
 is buried It would be a great streak of luck, wouldn't 
 it ? Sounds like the Arabian Nights, don't it ? After 
 you have made out what it says, come to me and we 
 will talk further on the subject." 
 
 Luck was on Dawson's side for once, or else he was 
 quicker to see his way into thiugs than Gus Warren 
 was for in less than half an hour after Pilkins went 
 away and left him alone, he hastily arose from his 
 chair, and full of suppressed excitement, went in 
 search of Pilkins. 
 
 Dawson found his friend after a while, and the 
 latter was much surprised when he saw and read the 
 translation that was placed in his hands. 
 
 The next thing was to find two suitable compan- 
 ions, and that was easily done. Dawson spoke to 
 but two, and they, without the least hesitation, 
 agreed to everything he had to propose. 
 
204 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXIX. 
 
 IN SWEETWATER CANYON. 
 
 Dawson, fully realizing the danger of the enter- 
 prise he had undertaken, could not be hurried. He 
 believed in making haste slowly. They could not 
 move a step in any direction, he said, until the reg- 
 ular rotation of guards brought two of their number 
 on post on the same night and at the same hour, one 
 at the gate and the other at the stables. 
 
 Although Pilkins and the other two grumbled over 
 this arrangement, they submitted to it; but they 
 were not obliged to wait long. The time for action 
 came sooner than they looked for it, and each one of 
 the deserters knew just what he was expected to do. 
 Dawson was on guard at the principal gate, and Pil- 
 kins was supposed to be watching over the safety of 
 the horses that were snugly sheltered in the stables. 
 Inside there were two more guards, who slept in a 
 little room adjoining the stables; but they were not 
 in the plot. 
 
 Shortly after the call, " One o'clock of a cold, star- 
 light night, and all's well ! " had gone the rounds of 
 the sentries, two dark figures crept along the side of 
 the stables, close in the shadows, and held a short 
 consultation with Pilkins, who resigned his carbine 
 to one of them and cautiously opened the door. 
 Then he and the other deserter disappeared in the 
 stable, from whose dark interior there presently is- 
 sued the sounds of fierce struggle, mingled with 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 205 
 
 smothered cries of alarm, and stern orders to "Lie 
 still and make no noise if you want to see the sun 
 rise again," and a few minutes afterward Pilkins 
 came to the door leading a couple of horses. 
 
 " Hear any noise ? " he cautiously asked. 
 
 "Not enough to hurt anything," was the reply. 
 " They made a fight of it, didn't they ? Did you tie 
 them ? " 
 
 " Hard and fast, and gagged them to boot," an- 
 swered Pilkins. "I have brought your horse and 
 Dawson's. Take 'em and clear yourself with as little 
 noise as possible." 
 
 As silently as so many specter soldiers, the four 
 deserters swung themselves into their saddles and 
 moved away into the darkness. Having got out of 
 the fort without alarming any of the sentries, they 
 looked upon their final escape as an assured thing, 
 and now their fingers began to itch to handle the 
 money. 
 
 They went as straight to Sweetwater Canyon as 
 any government scout could have led them, and then 
 they paused to take their bearings. 
 
 The first thing they noticed was that for about 
 the distance mentioned in the cryptogram, three 
 miles, the canyon was as straight as though it had 
 been laid off with a transit; but the first object they 
 looked for they could not find anywhere. There 
 was no leaning scrub oak tree to be seen. 
 
 " The man who wrote that cipher ought to have 
 known that a tree wasn't going to stand here for 
 sixteen or seventeen years, exposed to such storms 
 as this one that is coming on now," said Pilkins, 
 spitefully. " How did he think anybody could find 
 that cache of his with nothing to go by? " 
 
 "It won't do a bit of good to rail at him now," 
 replied Dawson. "Let's scatter out and see if we 
 can find any tree that has recently fallen, or one 
 
206 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 that hasn't been down long enough to rot entirel}' 
 away." 
 
 This suggestion was complied with, and the de- 
 serters were looking for such a tree when the bliz- 
 zard burst upon them. 
 
 "We have fooled away too much time already," 
 cried Dawson, as he saw a whirling, blinding cloud 
 of snow sweeping down upon him, driven with ail 
 the force of a shrieking hurricane. " We ought to 
 have been in camp an hour ago, and now it's ten to 
 one if we ever get out of this. Stick together," he 
 yelled, in the vain effort to make himself heard and 
 understood. " Rally on me. If we become separated 
 we are lost." 
 
 But the wind caught up his voice and bore it far 
 down the canyon, and away from the ears of his be- 
 wildered and terrified companions. One instant 
 Dawson saw their horses prancing about a short dis- 
 tance from him, and the next the storm came down 
 in all its fury and shut every thing out from his view. 
 
 For a time it seemed to D.iwson that the gale 
 would lift him from his saddle in spite of all his ef- 
 forts to prevent it ; and while he was holding fast to 
 the pommel with one hand and to his horse's mane 
 with the other, the animal suddenly wheeled and 
 tore up the canyon at the top of his speed. 
 
 On, on went the frightened horse, without an in- 
 stant's check from his rider, and at last, after what 
 seemed an interminable run, he made another sudden 
 turn and came to a stand still. Then Dawson re- 
 moved the heavy cape he had wrapped about his 
 head and looked out. 
 
 He could see a short distance on three sides of 
 him, and on his right hand was the dense thicket of 
 trees and bushes behind which the horse had stopped 
 for shelter. It broke the force of the wind, but, as 
 Gus Warren had once remarked on a similar occasion, 
 
GILBEKT THE TRAPPER. 207 
 
 it did not shut out the cold, aud the half benumbed 
 desertei at once dismounted and made preparation* 
 
 to Ie ftffiold of the bridle until he had taken 
 onThe saddle to which his weapons bknket and 
 «nall suonlv of provisions were fastened ioiteai 
 that the almost frantic beast might take to his heels 
 
 bushes when Dawson slipped the bridle o^ei ^ 
 head anil neighed shrilly, as if trying to call his 
 neaa, anu _ o f fllo . e k e had lound. 
 
 M 5r lilteneV ttontly hut there was no re- 
 sp^ and a fearful sensed loneliness crept over 
 
 ^A night's refreshing sleep (for weariness overcame 
 hi« feare and made him sleep in spite of his elicits 
 ^keep^ke), quieted his nerves in ^ = 
 infused a little courage in to him, and put a Uitteieiu 
 
 aspect upon the situation. He was able to reason 
 
 with himself and to think calmly. 
 
 He bad not neglected to bring a hatchet with km, 
 
 and with its aid he cut down a cottouwood foi hs 
 
 bo U to browse upon, talking familiarly to the 
 
 supplv of wood for his fire and sat down to biod a 
 clipp of bacon for his breakiast. 
 
 ^ Yht th" engaged he noticed that the au- around 
 him did not appear to be quite "^^Shto 
 ZZZ)Z °buT^ vSnd T wLtCgin g g, and now 
 ard then he camper was able to catch a momentary 
 tltmnse c,f the^cks on the other side of the canyon 
 ^Z son allowed his gaze to wander along the ace 
 of the rocks simply because it was a relief to his eyes 
 to look at something a little distance from him ; but 
 
208 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 he did not see anything peculiar about them until 
 the bacon had been cooked to his satisfaction, and he 
 was on the point of beginning his breakfast. Then 
 he sprang to his feet with an exclamation of surprise 
 and triumph, thrusting his hand into his pocket as 
 he did so. He pulled out a paper, fastened his eyes 
 upon it, and read, in excited tones : 
 
 " ' On the left side of the canyon, three miles from 
 leaning scrub oak tree at entrance, under hanging 
 rock.' Now there is the hanging rock, but is that 
 the left side of the canyon over there ? It certainly 
 would be to a person coming into the canyon past 
 the spot where that leaning scrub oak tree used to 
 stand. Who-whoop ! I've struck it." 
 
 As there must have been a good manv hanging 
 rocks along the sides of the canyon, one would think 
 that Dawson's conclusions were rather hasty, to sa} r 
 the least ; but he did not seem to think so. 
 
 " ' Two feet below the surface,' " said he, quoting 
 from memory, as he waded through the little drifts 
 which the wind had piled up in the gorge. " ' Remove 
 leaves and stones, and the fruits of years of toil will 
 be revealed,'" he murmured, looking up at the rock, 
 and then in the direction he supposed the entrance 
 to the canyon to be. " ' Give it to my boy, I pray you ; 
 it belongs to him.' Sorry I can't do it, but he is as 
 well fixed already as he has any business to be, if 
 there is any faith to be placed in appearances." 
 
 While the deserter talked to himself in this heart- 
 less fashion, he was scraping away the leaves with 
 his foot, and presently, to his unbounded surprise 
 and delight, he unearthed a layer of flat stones, 
 which were so regularly placed that they could not 
 have come there by accident. The sight of these 
 seemed to drive Dawson to the verge of insanity. 
 He set up a yell, as long and loud as any that ever 
 ' line from an Indian's throat ; and, sinking upon his 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 209 
 
 knees under the rock, lie tried, with almost powerless 
 fingers, to remove the stones. 
 
 It took him half an hour to accomplish this task, 
 for he stopped every now and then to send up a tri- 
 umphant whoop, hoping that it might reach the ears 
 of at least one of his comrades, and guide him to the 
 spot where he was at work. But suddenly he ceased 
 to call, and went on with his labor in silence. 
 
 " No, no ! " said Dawson to himself. " I will share 
 with nobody. I have worked too hard and endured 
 too much to think of that. I have found it without 
 help from my friends, they are not in sight, and I say 
 it is all mine ; all mine." 
 
 Having at last removed all the flat stones that cov- 
 ered the cache, the deserter took his knife in one 
 hand and his hatchet in the other and began digging 
 his way down to the treasure below. 
 
 He knew when he reached it, for the knife, with 
 which he was digging away the frozen earth, struck 
 upon something soft and yielding. It proved, upon 
 examination, to be an army blanket. 
 
 " Here it is ! " he cried, over and over again. 
 "After all my weary striving and scheming I am 
 rich at last, and there is no one to lay claim to a 
 cent's worth of it. Hail Columbia, Happy Land ! " 
 
 With eager haste the deserter threw the earth out 
 of the excavation, after loosening it with his knife, 
 and in ten minutes more he lifted out its contents. 
 
 The first thing Daw^son's eyes rested upon when 
 he opened the bundle was a paper with something 
 written upon it. He w r as on the jooint of tossing it 
 back into the hole with an exclamation of impatience, 
 but thought better, and put it into his pocket. 
 
 It was something that Gilbert the trapper w r anted 
 more than he wanted the other things that were in 
 the cache, but Dawson never thought of it again. 
 He put all the nuggets, as well as the little tin cans 
 
210 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 that contained the dust, back into the blanket, raised 
 the heavy bundle to his shoulder and went across 
 the gorge to his camp. 
 
 During the three days of inactivity that followed 
 he scarcely allowed his thoughts to wander to them 
 at all, so busy was he in dreaming of the life of ease 
 and luxury he intended to lead when he reached his 
 native town. How surprised every one would be to 
 see him, and wouldn't he hold his head as high as 
 the best of them, and royally snub those who looked 
 down on him before he went into the army. 
 
 But the cessation of the blizzard, and the lean and 
 hungry appearance of his haversack, warned Dawson 
 that it was time to be up and doing, and that he had 
 many weary miles to travel and numberless perils to 
 face before he could enjoy the felicity of snubbing 
 his old acquaintances who had incurred his displeas- 
 ure. He groaned in spirit as he strapped the bundle 
 upon his horse's back, bade adieu to his comfortable 
 camp, and set out for the lower end of the canyon. 
 
 Before he had gone half a inrie he found some- 
 thing that made him shiver all over, for he looked 
 upon it as a premonition of the fate that was in stoi«e 
 for himself. He almost stumbled over one of his 
 companions, lying stark and stiff in the snow, frozen 
 to death during the blizzard. The body was lying 
 face downward, and when Dawson turned it over, 
 Pilkins's glazed eyes looked up into his own. 
 
 " Poor fellow ! " said Dawson, choking back a sob, 
 and forgetting how uneasy he had been for fear that 
 this very man might walk into his camp and demand 
 his share of the contents of the cache. "He is mus- 
 tered out at last. Who knows but I may get my 
 own discharge in the same way? He'll never need 
 his haversack, and so I will just take it along." 
 
 Dawson took possession of the canvas bag that 
 contained his dead comrade's rations, laid the cape 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 211 
 
 of his overcoat tenderly upon bis white face, and 
 said " good by " in a suppressed whisper, and has- 
 tened from the sp>ot. 
 
 Dawson's objective point was the Durango stage 
 road, and in order to reach it he was obliged to 
 take his back trail for about fifty miles, after which 
 his course lay at right oblique for a good hundred 
 miles farther. If he could only accomplish the first 
 part of his journey without getting into any trouble, 
 Dawson was certain that he would be safe; for the 
 last hundred miles lay through a country that was 
 settled by stockmen, who would help him along. 
 
 As long as pleasant weather continued Daw r son 
 got on w T ell enough; but before he had left Sweet- 
 water Canyon twenty five miles behind, the very 
 thing he was most afraid of — a blizzard — burst upon 
 him, and drove him into a gully for shelter. 
 
 For ten days the sun never showed himself, there 
 was not a single landmark to guide him, and when 
 at last, after struggling hopelessly, almost aimlessly 
 forward, until he was ready to drop from fatigue, he 
 stumbled into the camp he had occupied two nights 
 before; when this happened Dawson gave up in de- 
 spair. The only thing left for him to do was to kill 
 his horse, cook as much of the flesh as his haversack 
 would hold, and make a fresh start without his bundle. 
 
 His horse must have divined his master's inten- 
 tions regarding him, for he stood quietly until the 
 packs were taken off his back, and then made off at 
 the top of his speed. As quickly as he could, Daw- 
 son caught up his carbine to stop him ; but he was 
 too weak to hold the weapon steady; the bullet w T ent 
 wild and the steed disappeared. 
 
 The deserter was left to his fate. 
 
212 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 CHAPTEK XXX. 
 
 gus warren's discovery. 
 
 We must now return to Gus and Jerry Warren, 
 whom we left standing on their uncle's porch, watch- 
 ing him and Gilbert the trapper as they started for 
 Sweetwater Canyon. 
 
 "There is one thing about this business," said 
 Gus; "we have not been sent to the fort for safe 
 keeping, as we were when Uncle Jack went off after 
 the Indians, and consequently we are our own mas- 
 ters. We had no orders to stay about the house all 
 the time, and I shall go and come as I please." 
 
 And it pleased Gus, and Jerry as well, to stay 
 about the house very little of the time, and to be in 
 their saddles from daylight until dark. Their prin- 
 cipal place of resort was a fertile valley among the 
 hills, into which Uncle Jack and Mr. Wilson had 
 driven their cattle at the very first sign of bad 
 weather. 
 
 It was on a cold, bright morning, about three 
 weeks after Gilbert and the rest set out for the cache, 
 that the remarkable thing happened of which I sj)oke 
 awhile back. The boys had spent the night in the 
 valley with their uncle's herdsmen, and were on their 
 way to the ranch, when Jerry, who was riding a little 
 in advance of his brother, suddenly drew rein, and 
 after raising his hand to attract Gus's attention, 
 pointed steadily and silently before him. Gus looked, 
 and saw a thin cloud of smoke rising toward the 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 213 
 
 sky Beyond a doubt there was a camp fire where 
 that smoke came from, but they could not see it. 
 
 " Looks as though it came out of the ground, don t 
 it ?" whispered Jerry. 
 
 " Yes • but of course it doesn t, answered his 
 brother.' " There must be a gully about there. See 
 any signs of it? Well, let's ride up and see what 
 
 we can find." . 
 
 Hiding side by side the boys urged their ponies 
 forward, and in a few minutes came within sight ot 
 the ffuUy, and stopped on the bank above the smol- 
 dering bed of coals from which the smoke arose. 
 
 There was a camp there, sure enough, but it was 
 not deserted. A figure, the ghost of a man, lay in 
 front of the fire. He was clad in a suit of army blue 
 which was badly tattered and torn, his brogans were 
 so full of holes that they afforded his feet but little 
 protection from the cold, his hands were white and 
 bloodless, and his whole frame was emaciated to the 
 last degree. His head was pillowed upon a bundle 
 tied up with a rope, and near him lay a blanket and 
 
 a carbine. . , 
 
 "It's one of the deserters," said Jerry, in a low 
 
 « G i believe vou're right," replied Gus. " But is he 
 asleep or dead ? Hallo, there ! " he shouted. 
 
 The man raised his head, gazed about him with a 
 bewildered air, and when he saw the boys standing 
 on the bank above him, stretched a trembling hand 
 out toward his carbine. 
 
 "None of that," said Gus, promptly. < \\ e aie 
 friends, and if ever a man needed friends I guess 
 
 you do." , ,. . - • i 
 
 "That's so," answered the soldier, m a faint voice. 
 " That's so. I am starving by inches.^and this bundle 
 right here is what brought me to it." 
 
 " What's in it ? " asked Jerry. 
 
214 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 "Dust and nuggets and greenbacks and money of 
 every sort," was the astounding reply. " As much 
 as a million dollars' worth ; or else a thousand, I 
 don't know which. Seems as if my brain was frozen, 
 for I don't know anything about it." 
 
 " Ah ! He's cracked," said Jerry. 
 
 " But whatever it is, it is all mine, all mine, and I 
 w T ill share with nobody," continued the man, once 
 more thrusting his hand out for bis carbine, but in- 
 stantly drawing it back again when he saw the black 
 muzzle of Gus's Winchester rising up toward his 
 head. " Go away and let me alone." 
 
 The deserter, for it was Dawson and nobody else, 
 made a feeble effort to get upon his feet, but his 
 strength failed him, and he fell heavily back upon 
 the ground again. 
 
 " Don't try it," exclaimed Gus. " Wait till you get 
 something to eat. Now then," he added, in a lower 
 tone, "it would be barbarous for us both to go off 
 and leave this poor fellow to suffer alone, so if you 
 will go to the house after help, I will stay with him. 
 I can at least build up his fire and throw a blanket 
 over him. Do you think you can find the trail with- 
 out any trouble ? " 
 
 " Of course I can." 
 
 " Well, stay here and keep him company till I find 
 some way to get down to him. He seems possessed 
 of a desire to use that carbine of his, and I don't 
 want him to shoot me. He doesn't know what he is 
 about." 
 
 Gus rode away, looking everywhere for a place to 
 descend into the ravine, and shortly disappeared from 
 the view of his brother, who sat on his horse, keeping 
 a close watch over the deserter. But the latter made 
 no move after he fell back upon his bundle, until he 
 heard Gus coming down the gully, and then he 
 merely turned his head and looked at him. 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 215 
 
 As soon as he had seen his brother dismount and 
 tie his horse, Jerry galloped toward the ranch, while 
 Gus went to work to make the deserter a little more 
 comfortable. His first care was to place the carbine 
 and his own Winchester safely out of reach, and his 
 second to draw the man's clothing snugly about him 
 previous to wrapping him up in his blanket. Al- 
 though the latter seemed conscious of what he was 
 doing, he made no remark, not even when Gus 
 picked up and examined a letter that dropped from 
 his pocket, while he was buttoning the deserter's 
 
 overcoat. 
 
 Gus started as if he had been shot when his eye 
 fell upon some words that were written on the out- 
 side of that letter, and instead of putting it back 
 into the soldier's pocket, he put it into his own ; and 
 Dawson, if he saw the movement and had sense to 
 understand it, never objected to it. 
 
 The boy's face was white with excitement as he 
 picked up the hatchet and left the camp to cut some 
 wood for the fire. As soon as he could do so with- 
 out being observed, he drew the letter from his 
 pocket and read : 
 
 For mv beloved boy, Gilbert Hubbard Nevins. A short history 
 of his life, together with instructions how to proceed to find his 
 friends, if any are living at the time this paper falls into his 
 hands. 
 
 " Set Jerry and me down for a couple of block- 
 heads," said Gus to himself, putting the letter care- 
 fully away again, and sinking the hatchet deep into 
 the first sapling within reach. "Why didn't we sus- 
 pect something like this the minute that soldier told 
 us he had nuggets and dust in his bundle? Well, 
 Gilbert Nevins, you can thank our family for your 
 good fortune." 
 
216 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 CHAPTEK XXXI. 
 
 gilbert's return. 
 
 At the end of three hours the rattle of approach- 
 ing hoofs and the sound of voices in conversation 
 awoke Gus Warren from a reverie into which he had 
 fallen, and put an end to his suspense. They also 
 aroused the deserter, who turned his head and 
 looked at the boy with eyes full of apprehension. 
 
 "You will have something to eat in a few min- 
 utes," said Gus, encouragingly. " Some of my uncle's 
 cowboys are coming, and they will take you to the 
 house, where you will be sure of good treatment." 
 
 " I don't want to be sent back to Fort Shaw," said 
 Dawson, in a querulous tone. "They'll court mar- 
 tial me and send me to prison." 
 
 Before Gus left the camp he took the precaution 
 to secure his rifle and Dawson's carbine. He did not 
 consider it safe to leave such dangerous things where 
 the half demented man could get his hands upon 
 them. He hastened up the gully to meet the ap- 
 proaching horsemen. 
 
 " What's the matter with you ? " exclaimed Jerry, 
 who was surprised at the look he saw on his brother's 
 face. "Has the man — eh?" 
 
 " Don't talk so loud," cautioned Gus, at the same 
 time pulling from his pocket the letter of which I 
 have spoken. " That man has robbed Gilbert's cache, 
 and I believe he's got the nuggets and dust in his 
 bundle." 
 
 " Why, how does it come that he knew anything 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 217 
 
 about that cache?" demanded Jerry, as soon as he 
 could speak, while Sam took the letter and read the 
 words that were written upon the outside of it, 
 
 " I don't know," replied Gus. " Perhaps he will 
 tell us all we want to know after he has recovered 
 strength enough to talk about it. That's pretty 
 good evidence, isn't it, Sam ? " continued Gus, who 
 then went on to tell how he had happened to find 
 the letter. 
 
 " I should say so," answered the herdsman. " Now 
 keep perfectly quiet about it. Don't act as though 
 you suspected him of doing anything out of the way. 
 
 " Will you give him up to the officers of the post ? " 
 asked Jerry. 
 
 "That clepends. We'll wait till your uncle and 
 his party get back before we decide upon anything." 
 
 There was something in the ring of the herds- 
 man's voice when he uttered these words that made 
 Gus and Jerry look wild. A terrible suspicion seized 
 upon them at once. 
 
 " Do you think — do you suspect " began Gus. 
 
 "I don't think or suspect nothing," answered Sam. 
 " But a fellow who will steal will do worse, and not 
 one step outside the house does this man go, after 
 we get him there, till Uncle Jack and his company 
 return. If they show up in due time all right ; it 
 will rest with old Jack to say what shall be done with 
 the deserter. But if they don't show up. and we 
 can find no trace of them, this man won't never be 
 tried by no court martial, ] bet you." 
 
 The herdsman said no more, but motioned Gus to 
 lead the way to Dawson's camp. Could it be possi- 
 ble, the boy asked himself, that the deserter had 
 fallen in with Uncle Jack and his party and killed 
 them to get possession of these valuables? 
 
 While he was tl linking about it he and the cow- 
 boys came within sight of the camp. 
 
218 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 " Hallo, partner," exclaimed Sam, as he walked 
 past the fire and leaned over the prostrate man. 
 "Well, if it ain't Bud Dawson I'm a sinner. You 
 always said } r ou would desert the first good chance 
 you got, but what made you take winter for it? 
 Your uncle is all right," he whispered to Gus. "At 
 least this man never harmed him. He hasn't pluck 
 enough to harm' a chicken." 
 
 The herdsman issued some rapid commands, and 
 in a few minutes the fire was roaring merrily again, 
 and savory odors filled the air. Dawson begged for 
 a crust of bread, but Sam would not give it to him, 
 for fear that his stomach would not retain it. He 
 kept him waiting until the broth he had ordered 
 prepared was ready, and then stubbornly resisting 
 the man's efforts to take the dish from his hands, 
 fed it to him by the spoonful. 
 
 " Now," said Sam, at last, " you have had enough 
 for the present. Pat him on my back, a couple of 
 you, and I will carry him out of the gully." 
 
 " Who will take my bundle ? " asked Dawson. 
 
 " Jerry and I will attend to that," replied Gus. 
 " When you get to the house you will find it close at 
 your heels." 
 
 " What's in it ? " asked one of the cowboys. 
 
 "Oh, there's dust and nuggets enough to make 
 me rich if ever I live to reach home. But it's all 
 mine, every bit of it." 
 
 " Where did you get so much plunder ? " said Sam. 
 
 But Dawson w r as not yet ready to say aii3 r thing 
 on that point. He simply shook his head and looked 
 wise, and that led the cowboys to suspect that he 
 had more sense than they had given him credit for. 
 It also aroused the ire of the chief herdsman, who 
 found opportunity to say to Gus that Dawson would 
 have to tell a pretty straight story before he and 
 the cowboys would let him go scot free. 
 
GILBEET THE TRAPPER. 219 
 
 It was a long time, however, before the deserter 
 was able to tell any sort of a story. His body 
 gained strength every day under Sam's careful 
 nursing, but his mind was like a child's. He could 
 remember that he had deserted in company with his 
 friends, but where they went and what they did, 
 and how it happened that he had become separated 
 from his comrades, he could not tell. 
 
 This state of things continued so long that Sam 
 began to fear he had made a mistake in not send- 
 ing for the post surgeon as soon as Dawson was 
 brought to Uncle Jack's house; but one day, after 
 the boys had began to worry over their uncle's pro- 
 longed absence, and tell each other that the}" would 
 never get anything definite out of Dawson, the lat- 
 ter astonished them by giving a complete history of 
 his wanderings. He went fully into details, omitting 
 nothing, and every one who listened to the recital 
 was impressed with its entire truthfulness. 
 
 "You have removed a heavy load of anxiety from 
 our minds," said Sam, in much kinder tones than he 
 had been in the habit of using when he addressed 
 the deserter "But you have talked long enough. 
 Tomorrow I will ask you some questions ; but now 
 you must go to sleep." 
 
 Just then there was a noise of tramping hoofs in 
 front of the house, and heavy steps sounded upon 
 the porch. A moment later the door opened, and 
 Uncle Jack Waldron came in. One glance at his 
 face would have been enough to confirm part of 
 Dawson's story, even had he not uttered the words : 
 
 "We have returned, but we made the trip for 
 nothing. We found the cache, but it had been 
 robbed." 
 
 Gus Warren smiled. He had some news for Uncle 
 Jack, and when he told it its effect was magical. If 
 you had gone into the house about two hours later, 
 
220 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 after tlie caudles had been lighted, the different 
 stories told, the fire replenished and the table laid 
 for supper, you would not have thought that the 
 patriarch of the group you saw there was the same 
 dejected and forlorn man who announced that he 
 and his companions had made their long and peri- 
 lous journey for nothing. As he expressed it, he 
 felt as happ}^ as a schoolboy with his first pair of 
 red topped boots; but the practical Gus declared 
 that he looked and acted more like a crazy man. 
 
 " But everything has turned out so different from 
 our expectations that we can't help feeling elated 
 over it," said Uncle Jack, in explanation. 
 
 " What are you going to do with the deserter ? " 
 Jerry inquired. 
 
 " I shan't do nary thing with him, and I don't be- 
 lieve Gilbert will either. He'd oughter be strung up 
 for trjdng to make off with our property, but wheres 
 the man who would not have done the same thing 
 under the same circumstances? They're mighty 
 scarce in this country, I tell you. But if he knows 
 when he is well off, he will toddle back to the post 
 and give himself up with as little delay as possible, 
 Dawson will. Ain't that so, Gilbert ? " 
 
 The latter was sitting on the opposite side of the 
 fire, looking very happy and contented indeed for a 
 boy who had made a journey of four hundred miles 
 on horseback in the dead of winter for nothing. He 
 had read his father's letter and examined the con- 
 tents of the bundle, while listening to Dawson's 
 story, and his eyes were a little redder than usual. 
 
 What that letter contained, no one but himself 
 ever knew. Probably it was filled with advice and 
 affectionate messages which were too sacred for other 
 eyes and ears, even though they belonged to those 
 who had stood by him when he needed friends to 
 help him. 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 221 
 
 "Have you made up your mind what you will do 
 now ? " asked Jerry, who, boy-like, wanted everything 
 settled in a minute. " Are you to accompany us 
 when we go home in the spring ? " 
 
 " Goodness gracious ! Why don't you give a feller 
 time to think ? " exclaimed Uncle Jack. 
 
 "I have been thinking," said Gilbert, "and have 
 decided to start for the post the first thing in the 
 morning. I will take Dawson with me, if he is will- 
 ing to go, and if you will give him a horse to ride, 
 and say a good word to his commander for him, al- 
 though I don't suppose it will do any good. Of 
 course I shall report the finding of that body in the 
 canyon. Then I will call on the trader, tell him how 
 the thing has turned out, and ask him to warn Grizzly 
 Pete and Buckskin Bob out of the country. Then I 
 will go and hunt up my partner. I shall not tell him 
 that I have tried to get Pete and Bob out of his way, 
 and you mustn't tell him, either. I don't believe 
 Josh "would ever speak to me again if he should hear 
 of it." 
 
 "You can depend on us to keep still tongues in 
 our heads," answered Uncle Jack. " Now let me tell 
 you what /have decided on. After you have found 
 your partner and told him how the tiling stands, you 
 and him will come out of them mountains and stay 
 here with me like white men ought to do. Then 
 when spring comes, we'll pack up and start for the 
 East." 
 
 " "Will you go with us ? " exclaimed Gus, in high 
 glee. 
 
 "That's what I was kinder calculating on," replied 
 the ranchman, who was greatly pleased w T ith the idea 
 which had suddenly popped into his mind. " I have 
 been thinking for years and years that I had ought 
 to t&ke a play day, and I don't know any better way 
 to get it than to see you boys safe to your homes." 
 
222 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 Gilbert's programme was duly carried out. Early 
 the next morning he started for the post, in company 
 with Uncle Jack and the repentant Dawson, who upon 
 presenting himself before his commanding officer, 
 was promptly ordered into the guard house. 
 
 Captain Barton was the same " accommodating 
 fellow " he had shown himself to be when Gilbert and 
 Uncle Jack last visited his store. At the boy's re- 
 quest he told how he had come by " that paper " in 
 the first place, described how Dawson had managed 
 to obtain a copy of it, and Avound up by saying that 
 he was highly gratified to learn that Gilbert had at 
 last come into possession of his own. 
 
 As for Grizzly Pete and Buckskin Bob, the trader 
 was sure Josh Saunders would never get an oppor- 
 tunity to draw the bead on them. Tlie mysterious 
 occurrences of the last few weeks had struck terror 
 to Pete's heart, and he had cleared out, bag and 
 baggage. As soon as Bob had recovered from his 
 injuries and been released from the hospital and from 
 custody, he had gone too. 
 
 Gilbert rested two days at uncle Jack's house, and 
 then set out with his pack mule to find the partner 
 whom he had so long deserted, and who must be 
 pretty hungry by this time, Jerry thought, if he had 
 been waiting all these weeks for Gilbert to bring 
 him something to eat. He was gone just a month, 
 and when he returned he brought Josh Saunders 
 with him. 
 
 Josh was not the sort of person Gus and Jerry had 
 made up their minds to see, after Gilbert told them 
 of the threats he had uttered regarding the two 
 squaw men. He had a benevolent looking face and 
 a mild blue eye which beamed pleasantly upon the 
 boys as he shook hands with them, but he had a fear- 
 ful grip, and his massive form towered a full head 
 above Uncle Jack Waldron's. 
 
GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 223 
 
 " Put it thar, pard," said he, to the latter. " I ain't 
 never had the pleasure to meet you afore, but I've 
 seed an' heared of ye, an' I want ye to understand 
 that the way you an' your outfit has stuck by Gilbert, 
 who was give into my hands with Arizony Charley's 
 dyin' breath, makes me a friend to the hul on ye. I 
 won't never have no hard feelin's again ye, onless ye 
 take him off to the States. If ye do that, I shan't 
 like none of ye no more." 
 
 " But, Josh, I must see my relatives, if I have any 
 living, and haven't I promised you that I will surely 
 return ? " said Gilbert. 
 
 This was a long and weary winter to Gus and 
 Jerry Warren, who were now as impatient to go East 
 as they had once been to come West. 
 
 But all earthly things have an end, and so did 
 their period of waiting. So did the journey, which 
 was undertaken at the earliest possible moment. 
 
 Uncle Jack stopped but a short time at his sister's 
 house, where he and Gilbert met a most cordial re- 
 ception, and then hastened on to Clayton to "see 
 Gilbert through," as he expressed it. But that was 
 easily done. All the old residents of Clayton knew 
 and loved the venerable Judge Xevins, whose only 
 son had gone off to the mines years before, and who 
 had never been heard of since the day he wrote that 
 he was on the point of starting for home. 
 
 Unlike the boy in the story who runs away to sea 
 and makes a fortune while he is gone, young Gilbert 
 Nevins did not arrive at his father's home in time to 
 relieve his aged relations from 2)ecuniary embarrass- 
 ment, for they had more money than he had ; but 
 they were glad to see him, and the affectionate wel- 
 come they extended to him when his identity had 
 been established beyond all peradventure, made Gil- 
 bert wonder. 
 
 One stormy winter night a few years ago, while 
 
224 GILBERT THE TRAPPER. 
 
 seated beside my camp lire in the foothills, the lead- 
 ing incidents in this story were told to me by the 
 grizzly old frontiersman who was acting as my guide 
 on a hunting expedition. I have seen and shaken 
 hands with Gilbert the trapper and his partners, Gus 
 and Jerry Warren, and if you go to Fort Shaw and 
 ask to be directed to their outfit, you will see them 
 also. 
 
 You will probably strike Jack "Waldron's ranch on 
 the road, and it is very likely that the old fellow Avill 
 " take a day off" to show you the way. 
 
 The boys can all write A. M. after their names now. 
 They went through college together, and engaged in 
 business together, preferring life on a ranch to con- 
 finement in a close, dusty office. 
 
 Josh Saunders is their principal man, and although 
 he attends strictly to business, he takes a " day off" 
 now and then to look for Grizzly Pete and Buckskin 
 Bob. He has not forgotten, he never will forget, 
 how hard they tried to shoot him, and to steal the 
 dust and nuggets that rightfully belonged to Gilbert 
 the Trapper. 
 
 THE END. 
 
drjv 
 
 
 
 M316766