Bushy a romance founded on fact
“Strange!” suddenly cried Bushy, “the light is quite to the left of
us, Rover, old fellow. Our noses are pointed in the wrong direction. I
didn’t think I could get so badly twisted going such a short distance.”
Bushy and Rover made direct for the light on the left. All went well
until, as they drew close to what they thought was the camp, Rover
showed signs of great uneasiness. Bushy’s attention was attracted to
the dog’s queer actions and she remarked to herself: “Something’s
wrong, sure!
“Rover, be careful! Let us go closer. I don’t know this place at all.
This light doesn’t belong to Great Pine Mine. I wonder where we are!
It makes me think of the goblins that Big Bill said walked about on
Halloween. Softly, softly, Rover! There is no animal that I ever heard
of that has an eye like that. Maybe it is a ghost. I never saw one and
don’t know how they look.”
Blinded by staring so fixedly at the light Bushy did not realize how
close she was to it until she came bump against a wall of rock. The
ray of light that had led her on shone through a crack between the
stones. “Down, Rover, down! I say,” commanded Bushy, expecting every
minute that some one would pounce upon them and perhaps kill them.
Rover obeyed, stretching himself reluctantly on the ground, while Bushy
crouched close within the black shadow of the wall.
“Hist! What was that?” said a gruff voice close to the opening.
“Confound it, Barkley, something is prowling around here, I feel sure!”
“Bah! always skittish--on the lookout for something to be afraid of,”
remarked a sneering voice farther away. “Let up with your fake ghosts
and help us finish the plan of attack. The leader is old man Sukolt.
I know him well.” They were talking in a Mexican lingo, but Bushy
understood them.
“Sukolt! he means the Padre,” she murmured, and her fist clenched
tighter the revolver hanging in her belt.
“What have Mexicans like these to do with my Padre? Still, Rover, don’t
move, there is work for us here, I’m afraid!”
“There is no way he can be taken except to hit him in the back, for no
one of us dare meet him face to face,” grumbled an old man. Bushy was
now clinging to the rocks outside like a bat, with both of her eyes
peeping upon the scene in the cave.
The last speaker was the centre of the group of men, who were evidently
brigands of the Rockies.
“How many are we?” asked the leader of the gang. “Ten,” was the reply.
“There are over thirty miners, but we must kill them or drive them
away. We have too much valuable stuff here, and, besides that, too
comfortable quarters to be driven out by a set of gold-diggers,” added
the chief of the bandits. “They are getting too thick here, altogether.”
“We will set fire to the camp first. Ten cabins must be fired at once,
and as the miners come out to fight the flames they must be picked off
one at a time. We can do it, because we will be in ambush and they in
the bright light. Mind you don’t leave the scene until you can each
count your three dead men.”
“What about the girl?--must we kill her, too?” asked a fine looking
bandit, whose moustache would have been the pride of a story-book
cavalier.
“No,” said the chief, “take her captive. She will be useful to cook for
us and keep the cave in order. She must be a good shot, so keep an eye
on her, even after you catch her.”
Bushy put her ear to the crack, and listened closely.
“Two o’clock, do you hear?” the chief was saying. “Each of you must
pick out a cabin and attend to its inmates himself without further
instruction; I will look out for the girl.”
“Oh, you will, will you?” thought Bushy, as she slipped down softly,
and again taking hold of Rover’s collar, said: “To the Padre, Rover,
for he is in danger.”
Rover sniffed about for a few seconds and then started off so fast
that Bushy had difficulty in keeping up with him without stumbling and
falling every few yards.
When once so far away that there was no danger of the robbers hearing
them, Bushy began to realize for the first time how serious the danger
was.
“We are not one bit brave, are we Rover?” she said, ready to cry with
joy on seeing the lights of the camp once more.
It was not very late, yet Mr. Sukolt had grown uneasy and felt sure
something had happened to keep his daughter away from home at that
hour, so he had sent some men north, and he himself had just started
out toward the mountain that she had climbed.
“Where is the Padre?” she cried, excitedly, as she rushed into the
tent, where Shanks had gone to get lanterns for farther search.
“Gone to hunt you!”
“Call him back immediately, and send out the alarm for all the men,
too, for there is to be an attack on the camp at two o’clock to-night,”
and Bushy threw herself excitedly on the robe at Shanks’s feet.
The signal was sounded, and in less than twenty minutes every miner was
in front of Mr. Sukolt’s cabin.
Mr. Sukolt had Bushy tell her experience to them, and they doubted not
one word. No man was to close his eyes that night. Bushy, Shanks, and
Tom were to take the centre cabin, which had a cellar with portholes.
“All wounded must be taken immediately when hurt to the centre cabin.
So, Tom, take there now, everything necessary for hospital purposes,”
said Mr. Sukolt. He then considered the problem how to save their
property from fire. Every miner was to be his own watcher, and the
instant a brigand appeared he was to be shot. If a cabin should be
fired no one from outside was to go near it.
Bushy could not sleep, though she tried to obey Shanks and get a nap
before the attack was to be made. Twelve, one, and half-past one
o’clock came, and her eyes were still wide open and bright.
“Sh!” said Tom, who kept going from one porthole to another, trying in
vain to see something through the darkness. “It is the gloomiest night
I ever saw. No wonder those wicked devils selected this time to do
their work! Hark, I hear a foot-fall!”
Bushy, Shanks, and Tom held their breath and listened.
“What time is it?” asked Shanks, softly.
“I don’t know,” whispered Tom, “but it must be after two. It”----
“Tom,” called Bushy at his elbow, “a man is on my side of the cabin. He
is trying to strike a match. He”----
She hurried back just in time to see the flash of light, and recognized
the chief of the bandits. Bang! went her rifle, and with a yell that
brought every man in camp to his feet in alarm, he fell over in the
shavings he had been trying to fire.
“Bang! bang! bang! bang!” sounded from all sides. Screams of alarm and
pain were heard so distinctly that Bushy threw herself on a buffalo
robe and covered her head and ears.
“Oh, Tom, I can’t stand it!” she cried. “Perhaps the Padre”----
Then came a loud pounding on the door and the cry: “Tom, open! It
is I!” The Padre had a wounded man in his arms and his own face was
covered with blood, but he called to Bushy: “I am not hurt, but Big
Bill is, and this is the robber chief, he was the only one of the ten
near enough to bring inside. Everything is peaceful now. Nine men, dead
or wounded, are guarded by our miners, who were saying, when I left
them, that our death would have been inevitable had the attack, so well
planned, been carried out without a warning.”
“And would you mind telling me how we were given away,” asked the
wounded chief.
Mr. Sukolt told how Bushy had heard and seen the bandits through a
crack in the wall of their cave. The chief of the ruffians looked on
her with wide eyes of astonishment.
“Defeated and my men killed, myself taken prisoner, and my cave and
goods fallen into the hands of the very mining superintendent we
started out to do up, and all this done by a girl!” he muttered.
“By your new cook,” said Bushy, who felt braver now that she held her
father’s hand.
Tom and Shanks were helping to place the chief in an easy position, but
when he heard her words he raised himself up and, with a half laugh,
said: “Well, you have done us up brown, my little maiden! I must say
every dish you served to-night was well done,” and then he fainted.
CHAPTER XXXVI
When Bushy awoke the next morning, her father, Tom, and Shanks were
busying themselves over the wounded brigand. “Do you know,” said the
chief, as he lay stretched out full length on the stone floor, “do you
know, Mr. Sukolt, that you have a very fine girl?”
“Well, we are all inclined to think so,” replied her father. “Had it
not been for her last night you would have soon wiped us out.”
“I think that last bullet is going to end my career,” murmured the
wounded man.
“I have nobody to leave my money to,” he added, turning seriously to
Mr. Sukolt. “I became an outlaw first because I had murdered a man I
hated. I am rich and came by my wealth, honestly enough, from the sale
of lands left me by my people. I would like to will it to your girl,
for she is the bravest little creature I ever met. I don’t suppose you
are anxious to take things so ill-gotten as those we have in the cave,
but Bushy knows the way, and you can do what you wish with everything
there. My bank account goes to the little girl. Now give me paper,
pen, and ink. Quick! for I feel I am sinking!”
Tom, thoroughly realizing the seriousness of the case, and filled
with wild delight over the thought of Bushy coming in for perhaps a
good round sum of money, made a dash over to the main cabin, snatched
the required articles and hastened back again to lay them before the
brigand, saying:
“There you are, sir; now is your chance to leave the child a mite of
money, if you see fit.”
Mr. Sukolt was not altogether satisfied with the idea of such a legacy,
but both Tom and Shanks insisted that the man be allowed to do as he
wished, and the Padre at length yielded. The outcome of it all was that
the wounded chief turned over all his honestly acquired property to
Bushy. Shanks understood the law well enough to see that everything was
done correctly. The wounded man died within an hour.
A month afterward Mr. Sukolt explained to Bushy that he had written and
ascertained that the bandit’s real estate amounted to nearly $25,000,
of which she thus became heiress in her own right.
“It is my duty to tell you,” said her father, “and to add that you are
old enough to realize in a measure what that amount of money means.”
Bushy sat stunned, and was only aroused by Rover’s cold nose being
poked into her closed hand.
Mr. Sukolt returned to his office near the mine. He was there
confronted with a great surprise. A Mr. Richard Hamilton laid his card
on the desk. He was the man whom Bushy had lariated when his frightened
horse was rushing toward a precipice at Cross Roads. Mr. Sukolt hardly
recognized him at first. When the visitor recalled the circumstances,
the two men shook hands warmly. Mr. Hamilton had a proposition to make
with reference to Bushy, and had come far out of his way to speak to
Mr. Sukolt.
“I am going to New York,” he said, “and she can go East with me,
remain with my people and attend school. I insist that you consider my
suggestion.”
“Bushy’s action scarcely merits your exhibition of feeling; any one
would have done the same in similar circumstances,” said Mr. Sukolt.
“Must I be deprived of showing my gratitude for the care you took of
me? Can I forget how Bushy ran her horse to Cross Roads for Tom and the
wagon, in order that I might be taken to your camp comfortably?”
“Your offer alone amply repays me for the little trouble we may have
taken,” replied Mr. Sukolt. “Your proposition,” he added, looking the
young man gravely in the face, “is to take Bushy with you and have her
educated as a young lady should be?”
“Exactly; her talents might, perhaps, be cultivated in this solitude,
where she never sees a child, seldom a woman, and rarely anybody