When the trapper had disappeared from his view, Frank, who had stood rooted to the ground, horrified by the scene he was witnessing, awoke to a sense of his own situation, and began to look about him. Although there were Indians on all sides of him, no one seemed to take the least notice of him. His hands were tied behind his back, but he could move about as he pleased, for his feet were free. Scarcely knowing what he was doing, he followed in the direction the crowd had gone; and when he arrived at the chief's lodge he found that some unusual event was about to take place. The yells were hushed, and most of the Indians were gathered in a body on one side of the council ground, in the center of which two or three warriors were busy kindling a fire. Upon looking around for the trapper, he discovered him at the opposite side of the ground, standing with his back to a post, to which he was securely bound. Near him stood a couple of armed Indians; and when Frank approached his friend, they motioned him angrily to retire.

"Oh, don't I wish that my hands were unbound, and that I could have the free use of my knife for just one minute?" groaned Frank, as he reluctantly retraced his steps toward the chief's wigwam. "Dick wouldn't be in that fix long. He has saved me more than once, and I would risk any thing, if I could do as much for him now. Where is Bob, that he don't bring the trappers up here and attack these Indians?"

Frank stood off by himself and watched the preparations going on around him, and wondered what would be the next torture the savages would devise for their prisoner. He could not have been more terrified if he had occupied Dick's place, and had been every moment expecting to hear the death sentence passed upon him. He did not like the deliberation and gravity with which the Indians conducted their proceedings, nor the scowls of mingled hatred and triumph which they threw across the council-ground toward the helpless trapper. He thought things looked exceedingly dark for his friend.

The huge fire that had been kindled by the warriors was well under way at last, and a dozen chiefs walked out from among their companions, and seated themselves in a circle around it. The first business in order was smoking the pipe of peace. The pipe was brought in by an aged warrior, who lighted it with a brand from the fire, and was about to present it to the principal chief, when the proceedings were interrupted by the arrival of a party of four men, who walked up to the fire without ceremony, and seated themselves near it. Frank recognized them at a glance; and that same glance showed him that they had not come alone. They had brought a prisoner with them, and he was standing near the trapper, with his hands bound behind his back.

CHAPTER V
ARCHIE FINDS A NEW UNCLE

For an hour and a half after Frank left him, Archie walked up and down the banks of the brook, pulling out trout of a size and weight that astonished him. When nearly two hundred splendid fish had been placed upon his string, he put his line into his pocket, leaned his pole against a tree where he knew he could find it again if he should happen to want it, mounted his horse, and rode slowly toward the rancho, keeping a good lookout on every side for his cousin, and wondering what had become of him. It was getting late. The sun had sunk below the western mountains, the shadows of twilight were creeping through the valley, and Archie began to fear that Frank was in a fair way to pass the night among the grizzlies. He did not find him at the rancho; Adam had not seen him, and neither had Dick, who, upon finding that Archie had returned alone, pulled off his sombrero, and scratched his head furiously, as he always did when any thing troubled him.

"Where's the boy that fit that ar Greaser?" he asked, with some anxiety in his tone.

"I am sure I don't know," was the reply. "He went into the mountains to hunt up an elk for supper, and I haven't seen him since."

"The keerless feller!" exclaimed the trapper.

"He'll have to camp out all night if he doesn't come back pretty soon," continued Archie. "Won't he have a glorious time among the bears and panthers? I wish I had gone with him, for I know he will be lonesome."

"You can thank your lucky stars that you stayed at home. Thar's a heap wusser things in the world than grizzlies an' painters."

The tone in which these words were spoken made Archie uneasy; and when Dick drew old Bob and the Captain off on one side, and held a whispered consultation with them, he began to be really alarmed. He had never seen the trapper act so strangely. Heretofore, when Frank had got into trouble, Dick had always said: "I jest know he'll come out all right;" but he did not say so now. Archie could see that there was something in the wind that he did not understand.

While the Captain and his men were conversing, a trapper galloped up to the porch, and hurriedly ascending the steps, communicated in a whisper what was plainly a very exciting piece of news, for an expression of anxiety overspread the Captain's face, old Bob thumped the floor energetically with the butt of his rifle, and Dick once more pulled off his sombrero and dug his fingers into his hair. Almost at the same moment a second horseman approached from another direction, and he had something to tell that increased the excitement. The Captain listened attentively to his story, and then gave a few orders in a low tone to Dick and Bob, who shouldered their rifles, sprang down the steps, and stole off into the darkness like two specters. They had not made many steps before Archie was at their heels.

"Now, then, you keerless feller, jest trot right back to the house agin," said Dick.

"If you are going out to look for Frank I want to go too," replied Archie. "I can keep up with you."

"Go back," repeated the trapper; "you'll only be in the way. Thar's goin' to be queer doin's in this yere valley, an' you'll see enough to make you glad to stay in the house."

"What's up here, any how?" asked Archie, as he mounted the steps that led to the porch where Adam Brent was waiting for him.

"Indians," was the reply.

"Indians!" repeated Archie, who now thought he understood what the trapper meant when he said that there were things in the world more to be dreaded than bears and panthers. "You surely don't expect trouble with them?"

"That's what they say," replied Adam, coolly. "I heard Captain Porter tell father that they would be down on us, like a hawk on a Junebug, before we see the sun rise again."

"Well, I – I —Eh!" stammered Archie, almost paralyzed by the information.

"Oh, it's the truth. In the first place, they changed their camp very suddenly this afternoon, and without any cause; and since then they haven't showed themselves in the valley. That's a bad sign. When you know there are Indians about you, and you can't see them, look out for them, for they mean mischief. But when they are all around you, and you have to watch them closely to keep them from stealing every thing you've got, there's nothing to fear. In the next place, one of Captain Porter's trappers, who was out hunting this afternoon, said that he crossed the trail of a war party, numbering at least five hundred men. Another trapper brought the information that there is a large camp of Indians about ten miles back in the mountains, and that the braves are all in war-paint. Father says it is plain enough to him that they have determined upon a general massacre of all the settlers in the country. There'll be fun in this valley before morning, and you'll hear sounds and see sights you never dreamed of."

Archie was astounded – not only at the news he had heard, but also at the free and easy manner in which it was communicated. He was trembling in every limb with suppressed excitement and alarm; and here was this new friend of his standing with his hands in his pockets, and talking about a fight with the Indians – which would be delayed but a few hours at the most – with as much apparent indifference and unconcern as if it had been some holiday pastime. But then Adam was accustomed to such things. The house in which he lived has been used as a fort in days gone by, and when trouble was expected with the savages, the settlers, for miles around, would flock into it for protection. It had withstood more than one siege, and Adam, before he was strong enough to lift a rifle to his shoulder, had heard the war-whoop echoing through the valley, and had molded bullets and cut patching for the men who were standing at his father's side, defending the house against the assaults of the savages. Archie could have told of things that would have made Adam's hair stand on end. He had ridden in the cars and on steamboats; and he had held the helm of the Speedwell in many a race around Strawberry island, when the white caps were running, and the wind blowing half a gale. Adam, in these situations, would have been as badly frightened as Archie was now.

While the latter was thinking over what he had heard, and wishing that his friend could impart to him some of his indifference and courage, Mr. Brent, who, with his men, had been engaged in collecting the valuables in the house, and loading them into a wagon for transportation to the fort, approached, and said to his son:

"Adam, get your rifle and ammunition, and go down to the fort and stay there until I come. Archie, you had better go with him."

Archie thought this good advice. If the Indians had really determined on making a descent into the valley – and he knew that Mr. Brent had had too much experience to be deceived in such matters – the sooner he found a place of safety the better it would be for him. He had been considerably disappointed because he had not been allowed an opportunity to assist the settlers in their fight with Don Carlos and his men, but he had never expressed a desire to take part in a battle with the Indians. He trembled at the thought; and he was almost afraid to ride through the grove with Adam. He held his rifle in readiness for instant use, and so nervous and excited was he, that it might have been dangerous for even a friendly trapper to approach him unexpectedly. He and Adam reached the fort, however, without encountering any of their enemies; and then Archie drew a long breath of relief, and began to feel more like himself.

Every one of the hundred soldiers comprising the garrison was hard at work; and so were the trappers. Some were engaged in repairing the palisades, some were covering the roofs of the buildings with earth, to prevent the savages from setting them on fire with lighted arrows, others were cleaning and loading the weapons, and every thing was done without the least noise or confusion. Not a word was spoken above a whisper; the men moved about with cautious footsteps, and a person standing at a distance of fifty yards from the fort, could not have told that there was any one stirring within its walls. One thing that surprised Archie was, that among all these men, who had fought the Indians more than once, and who knew just what their fate would be if the fort proved too weak to resist the attacks of their savage foes, there was not one who seemed to be in the least concerned. There were some pale faces among them – pale with excitement rather than fear – but their manner was quiet and confident, and Archie began to gather courage.

His first care was to look up a place of safety for his horse. The garrison being composed entirely of cavalrymen, there was plenty of stable room in the fort, and Archie soon found an empty stall, in which he tied the mustang; and after strapping his revolvers around his waist, and filling his pockets with cartridges for his rifle, he went out to look about the fortifications. He found Adam in the soldiers' quarters, sitting beside a fire, and engaged in running bullets. He kept him company for a while, but he was too uneasy and excited to remain long in one place, and finally he went out again, and resumed his wanderings about the fort. He watched the soldiers at their work, looked at the loop-holes, and tried to imagine how he should feel standing at one of them when the bullets and arrows were whistling about his ears, and the fort was surrounded by hundreds of yelling Indians thirsting for his blood, and at last he found his way out of the gate to the prairie where Frank had run the foot-race a few hours before. How lonesome the place seemed now, and what an unearthly silence brooded over it! Archie felt his courage giving away again, and aroused himself with an effort.

"I am getting to be a regular coward," said he, to himself. "If Frank were here he would be ashamed of me. I'd like to know where he is, and what he is doing. I hope he has made his camp where the Indians will not stumble upon it. There's the Captain going back to the house. If it is safe there for him, I guess it is safe for me, too."

Archie shouldered his rifle, and hurried off in the direction the Captain had gone. He passed through the grove in safety, and when he reached the house he found that Mr. Brent and his men were still engaged in collecting all the movable property, and hauling it to the fort. The former knew that all his stock, barns, and crops would be destroyed, and it was his desire to save as much of his household furniture as possible.

Archie leaned his rifle in one corner, and worked with the rest until the wagon was loaded, and then sat down on the porch to await its return from the fort. He wished he had gone with it before many minutes had passed over his head, for scarcely had the wagon disappeared when he heard a stealthy step behind him, and, upon looking up, he saw three trappers standing close at his elbow. Although he was startled by their sudden appearance, he was not alarmed, for he thought that he recognized them as some of the men belonging to Captain Porter's expedition; but a second glance showed him that they were strangers. He sprang to his feet, and, boldly confronting the men, waited for them to make known their business. They looked at him closely for a moment, and then one of them said to his companions:

"That's him, aint it?"

"I reckon it is," replied another. "Now, my cub, no screechin' or fussin'. If you make the least noise, you're a goner."

Archie did not hear all this warning, for, while the trapper was speaking, he had seized the boy in an iron grasp, and pressed a brawny hand over his mouth to stifle his cries for help; another tore his revolvers from his waist; the third caught up his feet and held them firmly under his arm; and, before Archie could fairly make up his mind what was going on, he was being carried rapidly across the valley toward the mountains. Astonished and enraged, he struggled furiously for a time, but all to no purpose; he was held as firmly as if he had been in a vice; and, exhausted at last by his efforts, he lay quietly in the grasp of his captors, wondering at this new adventure, and trying in vain to find some explanation for it. He was not kept long in ignorance, however, for in a few minutes the trappers had carried him across the valley, through the willows that skirted the base of the mountains, and into a deep, thickly-wooded ravine, and set him down in front of a camp-fire, before which stood a tall, fierce-looking man leaning on his rifle.

Archie was so bewildered that, for a minute or two, he could not have told whether he was awake or dreaming. He swallowed a few times to overcome the effect of the choking he had received, rubbed his eyes, and looked about him; and all the while the tall trapper stood regarding him, with a savage smile on his face, while his three companions seated themselves beside the fire, and coolly proceeded to fill their pipes.

"It's him, aint it, Bill?" asked one, at length.

"Yes," replied the person addressed, still looking fixedly at his prisoner, and evidently enjoying his bewilderment, "it's him. Seems to me you might have a good word to say to your uncle, seein' it's so long since we've met one another."

"My uncle!" exclaimed Archie, now for the first time recovering the use of his tongue.

"Sartin. You aint agoin' to deny it? You aint agoin' back on me, are you? I've been through a heap since I seed you last – I've been chawed up by bars an' catamounts, an' been shot at by Injuns an' white fellers, an' mebbe I've changed a leetle. I never did brag much on my good looks, but I'm your uncle, fur all that."

"You!" almost shouted Archie, gazing in amazement at the trapper's dark, scarred face; "you my uncle! Not if I know who I am, and I think I do. Do you take me for a lunatic, or are you crazy yourself?"

"Nary one, I reckon. I take you fur my nephew – Adam Brent – an' I know what I'm sayin'."

"Well, if Adam has such a looking uncle as you are, I am sorry for him. You've made a great mistake. My name is Winters, if it will do you any good to know it."

"No, I reckon not," replied the trapper, who seemed to be greatly pleased at his prisoner's pluck and independence. "I reckon you're Adam Brent."

"I guess I ought to know what my name is, hadn't I?" exclaimed Archie, angrily. "Who are you, anyhow, and what business have you to take me away from my friends?"

"I'm your uncle – Bill Brent – Black Bill fur short; an' as fur the business I have in takin' you prisoner, it's the business every man's got to right the wrongs that's been done him. That's what's the matter."

Archie very deliberately seated himself upon the ground, rested his chin on his hands, and looked up at the outlaw. "I know you now," said he, "and I have no desire for a more intimate acquaintance. Do you remember that, one night, in the latter part of June, a fellow about my age walked into your camp, and you and your cowardly companions robbed him of his horse?"

"I'll allow I haint forgot it," replied the outlaw.

"Well, that fellow was my cousin. He and I were on our way to California, with Dick Lewis and Bob Kelly, and an uncle, who looks about as much like you as you look like a white man. You've got the wrong buck by the horn, if you take me for Adam Brent. He is at the fort, and among friends, where he is safe. I left him there not more than an hour ago."

"Now jest look a-here, Adam," said Black Bill; "that story won't go down – not by no means. If I hadn't never seed you afore, it might do you some good to talk to me in that fashion; but I know you as well as I know any of my mates here. I've got you now, an' I'm goin' to hold fast to you."

"But what do you intend to do with me?" asked Archie.

"I'm goin' to do jest what I told your father I should do when I got my hands on you: I'm goin' to make you jest sich a man as I am."

"You'll have a good time of it, and you can't do it. It is my intention to be of some use in the world, and I'd like to see you or any body else drag me down as low as you are. But I tell you that I am not Adam Brent, and neither am I any relative of his."

"Hold your hosses. I know jest what I am about, an' all your talkin' an' fussin' won't do you no 'arthly good whatsomever; so you might jest as well shut up. I'm goin' to make a renegade of you. Arter you have been with me a few years, you'll larn to hate white folks as bad as I do, an' will fight 'em like any Injun, I told your father that I would make him sorry for all he's done agin me, an' I'm goin' to keep my word. Jack, jest tie his hands behind his back, an' then we'll trot along. I've spent the most of my time, durin' the last ten years, hangin' around this yere valley, watchin' fur a chance to get hold of you," continued the outlaw, while his companion was confining Archie's arms with a thong of buckskin, "but the ole man tuk mighty good care to keep you out of my sight. The fust time I sot eyes on you, since you was six years old, was to-day, at the fort, when them fellers run that race; but I knowed you in a minute. I've got you now, an' the next time your father sees you, you will be like me – half Injun an' half trapper, an' an enemy of your own race."

Archie had learned something during this interview with the outlaw, and now thought he could understand why Mr. Brent had been so careful never to allow Adam far out of his sight. In years gone by – perhaps when they were young men together – he had done something to incur the displeasure of this unnatural brother, who had resolved to be revenged upon him by dragging his son down as low as he was himself. But the outlaw's plans were not working as smoothly as he imagined. He had made a mistake in the boy; and Adam, of whom he had been trying to make a prisoner for ten years, was still safe under the protection of his father.

"He is barking up the wrong tree, if he only knew it," said Archie to himself; "but I don't think I shall trouble myself to tell him so again. The way he eyed me the last time I told him I wasn't Adam Brent, makes me think that it wouldn't take a great deal to induce him to use his bowie on me; and that would be disagreeable. Never mind; I am not afraid that I shall long remain a prisoner, while Dick and Bob are alive."

When Archie's arms had been securely bound, two of the outlaws started down the ravine in Indian file, and the others, one of whom was Black Bill, seized their captive by the shoulders, and assisted him over logs and through the bushes in a way that would have called forth from him a stubborn resistance, if his arms had been free. The trappers seemed to be in great haste; and whenever Archie stumbled in the darkness and pitched forward, they did not stop, but hurried on as fast as ever, leaving him to regain his feet if he could, or be dragged along the ground behind them. He wondered if this was a fair sample of the treatment he was to receive as long as he remained in the hands of the outlaws. It did not seem to him that he could endure it long, but he did endure it until ten miles had been accomplished, and then, to his intense amazement and alarm, he suddenly found himself on the outskirts of an Indian village. His captors kept straight ahead with him, until they arrived at the council ground, and there they left him to take care of himself, and went forward to join the circle of chiefs seated around the fire.