Buffalo Bill's death message or, In the face of doom
required by Red Reynard. He ruled with an iron hand, though he usually
gloved it with persuasive words.
“It’s my opinion he’ll be back ag’in,” he said. “He’s one o’ them devils
that never knows when to stop. And he’ll be back to-night, since he’s
seen the girl. That will be our chance.
“The moon will be up in less’n an hour. Some of us will ride along the
river and out ’round. He’ll see us, no doubt, and he’ll git the idee
we’re out huntin’ for him. Well, we will be, but some of us will be back
here, laying for him.
“When he sees the gang that’s out, then he’ll come on in ag’in, and then
will be the chance for the men that’s left here. If they post themselves
in the right places, they can’t fail to see him, and if they don’t down
him in the moonlight, I’ll want to know why.”
They talked for a number of minutes, after which a door was opened, into
what proved to be a closet, and out of the closet Red Reynard brought
some queer-looking garments.
In the meantime the horses had been brought up and were outside, saddled
and bridled.
Red Reynard and some of his men donned the queer garments the chief
produced. The effect was rather startling and sinister. They were
clothed and masked in white. There were holes in the head parts of the
garments for eyes, and on the bosom of each was the outline of a skull
and crossbones in red.
Thus clothed and masked, Red Reynard and his men mounted the horses that
had been brought up to the cabin, and departed from the village, riding
close by the river, and following in the general direction taken by
Buffalo Bill.
The scout had already set out for the village from the hiding place he
had chosen at the foot of the high cliff wall. He had left behind him a
negro who was perfectly willing to stay in hiding, and an Irishman who
had voiced some strenuous objections. Flynn was not pleased to be left
out of this “advinture.” He declared that in accompanying the scout it
was adventure he sought, and he demanded his full share. But there was
no horse for the Irishman, and the scout did not at that time desire his
genial company.
Buffalo Bill kept close by the rocky cliffs for a while. He believed the
horse had escaped from one of Red Reynard’s men, and had grazed along
that cliff. When its tracks were seen in the morning, he did not want
them to point too plainly to the hiding place.
By and by the scout turned the head of the horse toward the river. He
did not think danger awaited him near the cliff. So he rode rapidly,
through the white moonlight, for the moon had risen some time before;
and soon found himself at the edge of the river. Here he drew the horse
down into a walk, and kept a wary watch for Red Reynard’s men.
Though he was careful, the trees prevented him from seeing far ahead;
and suddenly in the trail appeared those terrible figures—members of the
Clan of the Skull and Crossbones, as the followers of Red Reynard called
themselves.
“Halt!” they cried, covering Buffalo Bill with their rifles.
To obey was certain death.
The scout’s right hand swung up, and his revolver flamed, dropping a man
out of his saddle.
As the revolver sounded, the scout hurled himself backward off his
horse. Striking behind a rock, he went rolling over and over.
There was a quick, sputtering fire of revolvers, but the outlaws used
their weapons in such haste that the scout remained untouched. He sprang
to his feet, when screened by some bushes, and began to run toward the
river in zigzag fashion.
As he gained the water’s edge, with those revolvers cracking behind him
and bullets cutting through the bushes, he seized and hurled a heavy
stone as far out into the water as he could, where it struck with a
splash.
Just below this bank he had left the canoe, and he now sprang down and
into it, cutting the painter and pushing the canoe along close by the
shore. As he did so, he heard the outlaws reach the bank above him.
“He jumped into the river,” he heard Red Reynard say. “I heard the
splash. But he’s got to come up. Shoot him as soon as his head shows.”
He kept the canoe moving slowly along under the bank, and heard the
outlaws talking above as they watched for him to show his head on the
surface of the moonlit river, where it would have been an easy target.
“There he is!” was yelled suddenly, and revolvers cracked again.
Looking out in curiosity, the scout saw that the head of a saurian had
been shoved up out of the water; but it went down when the bullets
struck it.
The outlaws discovered their mistake, and while some cursed, others
laughed.
The canoe was moving on with the current, and already Buffalo Bill was
several yards from the point where he had set it in motion.
The outlaws ran along the bluff, staring into the water, but under the
bluff the scout’s canoe kept steadily on its way, unseen by them.
“I believe he’s drowned!” “Mebbe that critter swallered him!” “No, he’s
bound to come up; keep a sharp watch!”
These were some of the things Buffalo Bill heard.
“Perhaps he’s hidin’ under the bank!”
The scout dipped his paddle and sent the canoe along faster when he
heard that.
Two of the men came tumbling down the bank to look for him there. These
men saw him, even though under the bank the light was dim, and they
called out their discovery. One of them fired at him.
The scout’s return shot knocked the fellow into the water.
Wild cries were heard on the bank above, and more men came tumbling
down.
The canoe was right against the shore. The scout slid out of it, sending
it on with a push, and then crouched low by the roots of a tree. His
situation was critical, but he had two good revolvers and knew how to
use them. The current drew the boat away from the shore.
The desperadoes who had leaped down the bank saw it and began to shoot
at it, under the impression that the scout was in it; and those who had
remained above began, also, to fire on the canoe. In addition, there
were excited cries and shouted commands.
Under cover of the noise and confusion, Buffalo Bill crept back along
the shore, screened by the high bank and by bushes, and gained a point
beyond that where he had entered the canoe. He began to feel safe again,
as the shooting at the canoe continued, and all the desperadoes, chasing
it, were moving downstream.
Before they discovered that the canoe was empty, and returned, the
daring scout had climbed up the bank, and had concealed himself in a
scanty growth of bushes, where he lay closely hidden, when they came
running back to search along the shore for him.
The disgust and indignation of the desperadoes passed all bounds, and
they were accusing each other angrily.
“He must ’a’ got into the river, after all,” said Red Reynard; “and by
this time he may be on the other side. Some o’ you fellows take the
canoe and go over there.”
The search was continued, and one of the men looked into the very hiding
place where the scout lay, without seeing him. From the other shore to
which they had crossed in the canoe, men shouted that nothing could be
found there.
Knowing that the desperadoes were so aroused that the peril of venturing
into the village would be too great, Buffalo Bill retreated, as soon as
he could do so safely, and returned to the spot where he had left Flynn
and Cudjo.
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CHAPTER XIII.
SURPRISING DISCOVERIES.
Throughout the remainder of that night, and all the next day, Buffalo
Bill and his companions remained close in hiding by the high cliff wall
to which they had retreated.
At intervals they saw men riding by, and once or twice some of these men
came near enough to give them much uneasiness. Yet they were
undiscovered.
Fortunately, they had brought food from the island, and in the scout’s
drinking flask was some water; so that they did not suffer from hunger
and thirst.
Though in terror of the outlaws, Cudjo was pleased to be that far from
the river, as, to his mind, it lessened the danger he felt he was in
from the “’gator.”
When night came, Buffalo Bill was ready to try again to enter the
village. The belief that a great deal of gold was there did not lure
him, nor was he moved at the moment by his desire to capture Red
Reynard, but thoughts of that helpless young woman in the midst of those
conscienceless scoundrels, where she received such inhuman treatment,
stirred him deeply. He resolved to make a determined effort to locate
her and effect her rescue that night, for he was sure she was held
against her will. What he had seen and heard convinced him of that
predicament.
The scout’s plan of taking the Irishman and Cudjo with him delighted
Flynn, but was not so hilariously received by the darky. Yet Cudjo
prepared to go, for the very good reason that he feared to stay alone.
Whatever the dangers, he felt safer close by the scout’s side.
They set out before the rising of the moon, that they might reach the
village while darkness held. As they approached it, they crept down to
the river’s edge, and moved along under shelter of the high bluff.
When the moon rose, they were ensconced in a growth of bushes not far
from the big cabin where the exciting events of the previous night had
occurred. The moonlight flooded the single street of the village, and
shone bright on the surface of the stream. By it men were seen moving
about, though none were quite near.
When he had watched a while, Buffalo Bill ventured to creep forth and up
to the cabin. Then he lay in the shadows, by the bluff that seemed to
join the cabin and towered high above the water’s edge.
As he lay there, waiting and watching, a startling thing happened: A
door opened close by him, in what he had thought was solid rock, and two
men came out. They were Red Reynard and another, whom the scout soon
recognized as Bat Stevens, the scoundrel to whom Red Reynard’s letter
had been addressed. They were talking in low tones, and as they passed
close by the concealed scout, they spoke of the girl, showing by what
they said that she was still with them, but had been giving them
trouble.
“I’ll tame her, or break her neck,” said Red Reynard harshly. “The way
she carries herself, you’d think she was a queen. If Buffalo Bill is
still livin’, and if he comes to-night, we can git him.”
They passed on, and the sounds of their voices died away.
The scout stared hard at the wall where the door had opened, though it
was now closed, and at the risk of detection he crawled over to it and
felt along it with his fingers. He found in one of the inequalities of
the surface a hole made for a key, and he knew then that the door was
not of rock, but of boards. Having a bunch of keys on a ring in his
pocket, he took them out and began to try the lock.
Stooping there in the darkness, for at that point the shadows lay
heavily, he worked long and patiently, twisting and turning the keys in
an effort to find one that would throw the bolt.
As he thus worked, he heard footsteps approaching. Thrusting the keys
into his pocket, he dropped down. In a moment or two Flynn and Cudjo
came crawling up to him.
“Dat you, Marse Cody?” Cudjo whispered. “One o’ dem men said you was
daid!”
“That’s what brought us,” said Flynn. “Whin they wint by us, they was
shpakin’ av yez, and wan av thim said you was dead. I didn’t belave it,
havin’ seen yez so racintly, but we kem to find out.”
“They were just hoping me dead, no doubt. Keep watch along by the side
of the cabin there, Flynn. There’s a door here, and I’m trying to open
it. If we’re seen, we’ll jump along the bank and get off that way. Keep
your eyes open, Cudjo.”
Buffalo Bill began again to work at the keyhole, with the darky and