Archie looked up, and for the first time discovered that he had a companion in trouble. It was Dick Lewis, who was standing bound to a post by a band of hickory bark, which was drawn tight about his breast and arms. It is hard to tell which was the more astonished, the trapper or Archie. Numerous questions were asked and answered on both sides, and when Archie told of the mistake the outlaws had made, and how he came to be taken prisoner, Dick drew a long breath of relief.

"I'll allow that it makes me feel a heap easier to know that you aint in no danger of bein' massacreed," said he. "This is a leetle the wust scrape I ever seed you in yet; but as long as me an' old Bob are alive, you won't want fur friends to help you. Do you see that feller standin' over thar?"

Archie looked in the direction in which the trapper nodded his head, and was almost ready to drop with astonishment when he saw his cousin standing beside the chief's wigwam, bound and helpless like himself. He knew now why Frank had not returned to the valley.

"How came he here?" asked Archie.

"Go over thar an' talk to him, an' he'll tell you all about it," replied the trapper. "I want plenty of elbow room around here, 'cause when I get ready I'm goin' to leave, an' any thing that stands in my way will most likely get hurt. You'll hear something break purty soon, an' when I get started, jest keep your eye on me if you want to see runnin' as is runnin'."

Archie, judging from this that Dick did not want him there, walked slowly toward the place where his cousin was standing. As he passed the post he took a hasty glance at his friend's bonds, and wondered how he intended to escape from them. If he could break that piece of bark, he must be possessed of the power of a dozen men, for it was strong enough to hold an ox-team. But then Dick's strength was something wonderful, and there was no knowing what he might do in an emergency like this.

The cousins did not spend much time in talking over their adventures, for they were too deeply interested in what was going on around them. The commotion occasioned by the arrival of the outlaws had subsided, and the chiefs were ready to proceed with their business. The aged warrior again lighted the pipe of peace, which was passed around the circle, each chief taking two or three puffs and handing it to his neighbor. The most profound silence was maintained in the village during this ceremony, which occupied several minutes; and while it was going on, the attention of the boys was attracted by a curious-looking object which suddenly made its appearance before them. They could not tell what it was, either by its size, shape, or movements. Sometimes it went on all fours, and then it looked like a bear with a crane's head; then it threw itself flat on the ground, and waddled along like an alligator, turning its queer looking head and sharp bill about as if seeking something to devour; and when it reached the edge of the council-ground, it took the form of a ball, and rolled along, as swiftly as if it had been sent from a boy's bat, until it reached the fire, when it stopped, and with a loud yell jumped to its feet and straightened out. Then the boys saw that it was an Indian, dressed in a most fantastic costume, and that he carried a tomahawk in one hand and a knife in the other.

"Oh, it's the medicine-man," said Frank.

"Well, he's a delightful looking fellow," observed Archie. "How would you like to have him prowling about your bed if you were sick? What is he going to do, I wonder?"

THE MEDICINE MAN AND DICK LEWIS

The boys were not kept long in doubt on this point, for the medicine-man had evidently come there on business of his own, and was not disposed to waste any time. He first began tramping in a circle about the place where the chiefs were sitting, and then the cousins saw that he carried the burden of many years on his shoulders, for he walked with tottering steps, and form half bent. But he seemed to have plenty of energy left in his old body, for he stamped the ground furiously as he moved along, causing the rattles which he wore around his legs to ring out musically, and expended a good deal of strength in flourishing his knife and tomahawk. Wondering eyes followed all his movements, broad-shouldered warriors stepped respectfully aside to let him pass, but he did not appear to notice any thing or any body. He moved with his eyes fastened upon the ground, and all the while singing a low, monotonous song. He made the circuit of the council-ground at least twenty times, without once looking up or changing his attitude, and the boys began to wonder what object he could have in view in tramping about that way; when suddenly, as he was passing the trapper, he raised his hatchet, and with one swift blow buried its bright blade in the post, almost to the handle and within an inch of Dick's head, and left it there, while he continued on his walk around the council-ground.

An exclamation of horror burst from both the boys as they witnessed this act of the medicine-man. They thought, when they saw the tomahawk descending, that they had seen the trapper alive for the last time; but he was still erect and unharmed, although the tomahawk had passed so close to his head that a lock of his hair was buried with it in the post. A less practiced hand than the medicine-man's would have driven the weapon into Dick's brain.

"Oh, don't I wish I was free, and had my breech-loader in my hands!" exclaimed Archie, who was so nearly beside himself with rage and alarm that he could scarcely speak plainly. "There would be one doctor less in this tribe. I'd up-end that old rascal so quick that he wouldn't know what hurt him."

Frank did not say any thing, but his compressed lips and flashing eyes spoke volumes.

This little by-play on the part of the medicine-man caused infinite delight among the Indians on the other side of the council-ground, who now began to watch his movements more closely than ever. And it was but a beginning. The next time he came around he thrust his knife into the post, just above the trapper's shoulder, pulled out the tomahawk, and went on. The third time he struck the tomahawk into the post again, if possible a little closer to the prisoner's head than before, and pulled out the knife. And so he kept on, threatening the trapper first with one weapon, and then with the other, to the great amusement of the Indians, and the intense horror and indignation of the boys, who, unable to endure the sight, turned away their heads, and wished for their rifles. During all this time Dick never once flinched so much as a hair's breadth. He did not appear to notice the medicine-man at all; but kept his eyes fastened upon the chiefs. If the Indians had never seen a brave trapper before, they saw one now.

While this was going on on the outer edge of the council-ground, the chiefs were busy deciding upon the fate of the prisoner. First one made a speech, and then another, and another, until all had spoken, and half an hour had been taken up with the deliberations. Then a war-club was produced, and after that the Indians did not pay the least attention to the medicine-man. They were waiting to hear the decision of the council. The principal chief took the war-club, and after striking it upon the ground in front of him, handed it to the next warrior; and so the club went around the circle, some striking the ground with it, and others passing it along in silence. The boys knew that a vote was being taken upon some question, but what it was, or how the votes counted, they had not the least idea. They soon found out, however, for when the war-club had come around to the principal chief again, he jumped to his feet, and began shouting some orders in a loud voice; and in an instant the camp was in great commotion. The warriors ran about in all directions, and deafening whoops and yells arose on every side. Some hurried into the woods, and presently returned with their arms filled with dry wood and branches, which they deposited in piles at intervals along the ravine, below the camp, others lighted them with brands from the fire, which was burning on the council-ground, and in a few minutes every object in the lower end of the village was as plainly visible as if it had been broad daylight. This done, the warriors seized knives, tomahawks, switches, clubs, or whatever else came first to their hands, and arranged themselves in two parallel lines about six or eight feet apart, and extending up and down the ravine. Then the boys began to understand the matter. The trapper was to run the gauntlet.

"Oh, why doesn't he wake up and do something?" cried Archie, in great excitement. "He told me that I would hear something break pretty soon, and if he is going to escape at all, he had better be about it. In a few minutes it will be too late."

"Look at the club that first Indian carries on his shoulder," said Frank. "One blow with that would kill an iron man. If Dick once gets between those lines, he will never come out alive."

"And even if he does he can't get away, for there are a dozen warriors standing at the lower end of the ravine waiting to catch him. I wish we had stayed in California."

The boys turned to look at the trapper. Was he destitute of nerves entirely, that he could stand there and view all these preparations so calmly? An ordinary man would have been overcome with fear; but Dick was as indifferent as ever.

"If he could only contrive some way to break that bark now, he would be all right," said Frank. "Those two guards couldn't stop him, and the other warriors are all at the lower end of the village. That old medicine-man is getting ready to begin his operations again."

"He's going to throw his hatchet at Dick," gasped Archie.

The medicine-man was standing about twenty feet in front of the trapper, swinging his tomahawk around his head, and yelling at the top of his lungs. Even as Archie spoke, the weapon left his hand, and flew through the air with the speed of a bullet. Both boys turned away their heads and held their breath in suspense. They heard the tomahawk strike the post, and, when they turned to look at the trapper again, they were not a little astonished at the scene presented to their gaze. The medicine-man was rolling about on the ground in violent contortions, like some huge reptile which had just received its death-blow; the two warriors who had been guarding Dick lay motionless beside him; the piece of bark with which the trapper had been confined hung down beside the post, having been cut by the keen edge of the tomahawk; and something, which moved so rapidly that it looked like a flash of light, dodged in and out among the lodges for an instant, and then disappeared from view. The medicine-man had thrown his tomahawk a little too close to the mark that time, for the weapon had cut the trapper's bonds and set him at liberty.

For a few seconds the village was as silent as though it had been deserted. The warriors stood transfixed, holding their weapons in their hands, and gazing at the empty post where their captive had stood but a moment before; then yells of rage arose on the air, and the warriors swept through the village in a body in hot pursuit of the trapper. The cousins could not speak. Dick's escape had been accomplished so suddenly and unexpectedly that it bewildered them. They looked at one another in silence, gazed after the yelling Indians, who were flying through the valley in all directions, and, when at last they recovered the use of their tongues, the shouts of delight that broke from them would have done credit to any two savages in the band.

"Wasn't that well done?" cried Archie, dancing about like one demented. "The minute that bark was cut, he was off like a flash of lightning. Wouldn't I give something if I could run like that? They'll never catch him, for they are all behind him, and Dick says he never saw the Indian, or white man either, that could overtake him, if he has two feet the start. He had at least twenty yards the start, this time; so, of course, he'll escape easily enough."

"I feel better," said Frank – "not only on Dick's account, but also on our own; we stand a chance of being rescued now. Well, what do you want?"

This question was addressed to a couple of warriors who at that moment approached them. The savages did not take the trouble to reply, but grasped the boys by the shoulders, and conducting them around the chief's wigwam, beside which they had been standing all this while, raised the door and pushed them under it.

"Here we are," said Frank, "and here we are likely to remain for awhile."

"But I don't propose to pass the night with my hands bound behind me, if I can help it," said Archie. "Don't you believe you can untie them with your teeth, Frank? You know that was the way Johnny Harris untied the lasso with which I was bound, on the night we made our escape from Pierre and his band."

Frank proceeded at once to act upon his cousin's suggestion, and, although he found that a thong of buckskin was rather a difficult thing to manage with his teeth, he finally succeeded in freeing Archie's hands. Then, after the latter had liberated him, the cousins threw themselves upon the buffalo robes to talk over their adventures; but they were not allowed to remain long to themselves, for, while Frank was describing the manner in which he had effected his escape from the village, the door of the lodge was raised, and Black Bill's villainous face appeared at the opening.

"Adam, are you thar?" he inquired.

"No, Adam isn't here," replied Archie. "The last time I saw him, he was at the fort. Winters is here, if you have any thing of importance to say to him."

"Wal, I have. Come out here."

"What do you want with me?"

"I am goin' to take you to my lodge, where I know you will be safe."

"Black Bill," said Frank, "you have certainly made a mistake; this fellow isn't Adam Brent."

"Who axed you fur any advice?" was the gruff rejoinder. "Jest mind your own business, an' speak when you're spoke to."

The tone of the man's voice indicated that he was in very bad humor, and Frank, knowing that it would not be safe to irritate him, held his peace; and so did Archie, who offered no resistance when the outlaw seized him by the collar and pushed him roughly out of the lodge.

Frank's first care, on being left alone, was to examine into his chances for escape. That was quickly done, and the conclusion he came to was that it would be quite useless to attempt any thing of the kind. He was guarded by two sentries now – one standing at the back of the lodge, and the other at the door. He could not elude them both, and, with his usual happy faculty for accommodating himself to circumstances, Frank decided that there was no use in keeping awake all night if he was a prisoner; and, stretching himself out on the buffalo robes, he prepared to go to sleep. And he did sleep, in spite of all the dangers and excitements of the day, but not long. He was awakened by a rustling in the lodge, and started up in alarm when he saw a frightful-looking object, which he recognized as the medicine-man, crouching at his side. Frank's first thought was that he had come in there to torment him as he had tormented the trapper; and his second, that he should not do it. He was not bound, and he would not submit to any such treatment.

"Look here, old fellow," said he, shaking his fist at the medicine-man: "I don't know whether or not you can understand English; but, if you can, you had better pay attention to what I say: If you go to flourishing that tomahawk and knife about me, I'll break your head."

"Hist!" whispered the intruder, holding up his finger, warningly.

Frank was astonished. He gazed earnestly at the medicine-man, who began singing his low, monotonous song, at the same time fumbling with his odd-looking mask, which he soon removed, revealing to Frank's view the honest countenance of old Bob Kelly. Checking the boy's exclamation of astonishment by an emphatic motion of his hand, the trapper, still humming his song, proceeded to divest himself of the other articles of his disguise; and, as fast as he removed them from his own person, he put them upon Frank, who submitted wonderingly to the operation. In a few minutes he was rigged out in the medicine-man's dress; and, if he had only known it, he looked hideous enough to frighten any body.

"Now, then," said old Bob, in a scarcely-audible whisper, "be off with you. Creep under them skins, an' make yourself skeerce about here, sudden. Thar aint no danger, if you'll only think so. You're a medicine-man now, an' you can go all over the village an' into every lodge, an' nobody won't say a word to you. I'll take care of myself."

The old trapper spoke these words hurriedly, and, pulling Frank off the buffalo robes, stretched himself upon them. Frank would have lingered to ask some instructions concerning the manner in which he ought to conduct himself, and what he ought to do if the guard allowed him to pass out of the lodge, but Bob motioned him impatiently to be off. Calling all his courage to his aid, he lifted the skins at the back of the lodge and crawled out. The guard looked down at him, and then turned away his head as if he did not care to see him; and Frank, throwing himself upon his hands and knees, and imitating as nearly as possible the actions of the medicine-man, hurried off into the darkness.

CHAPTER VII
IN THE MOUNTAINS

"Well, this beats me completely. That old medicine-man that Archie and I wanted to shoot so badly was Bob Kelly; and, of course, he did not make a mistake when he cut that bark with his tomahawk – he did it on purpose. Didn't he play his part well? The old fellow must have a steady hand to send those weapons so close to Dick without hitting him. Where did he get this disguise, I wonder; and how is he going to escape from that lodge? This night's work is a little ahead of any thing I ever heard of."

Frank was sitting on the ground in a thicket of bushes on the outskirts of the village, where he had concealed himself, to obtain a few minutes' rest, and to decide what he should do next. He had passed through the camp in safety, and without attracting especial attention from any of the Indians. He had met several warriors on his way, but his disguise was complete, and they, supposing him to be the medicine-man, stepped aside to let him pass, and did not trouble themselves to take a second look at him. He had been emboldened by his success thus far, and a daring project had entered his head. It was to go back to the village, and find and liberate Archie.

There were a good many dangers and difficulties to be overcome in carrying out this plan. The outlaw had said that it was his intention to take Archie to his lodge, where he knew he would be safe; but Frank did not know where that lodge was. And suppose, if he succeeded in finding it, that Black Bill and his companions should be there guarding their prisoner! What would they do to him if they caught him prowling around? Frank did not care to enrage them, for he knew what manner of men they were; but still he was determined that he would not leave his cousin to his fate without making at least an attempt to save him. The village was nearly deserted, except by the women and children, and he could scarcely encounter more danger there than he would in attempting to find his way to the valley. The mountains were filled with Indians, who were searching for the trapper, and he could not hope to avoid meeting some of them. His disguise would protect him as long as he remained near the village, but wouldn't the warriors suspect something if they found him making his way toward the fort?

"I'll be in danger, no matter what I do," said Frank, to himself; "and I am going to try to find Archie. If he isn't liberated I would just as soon be recaptured as not, for I could never live without him. How would I feel to go back to our hunting and fishing grounds about Lawrence, and know that he was kept a prisoner among these savages? I won't do it. If he must stay here, I shall stay with him."

So saying, Frank crawled out of the bushes, and started back toward the village. Not knowing how many eyes there might be watching him, he tried to imitate the medicine-man's movements – walking with his form half bent, and assuming a feeble, tottering step which he was sure would pass in the darkness for that of a very old man. He reached the village at last – passing the chief's wigwam on the way, where the guards stood in blissful ignorance of the fact that the captive they had been set to watch had crawled out of his prison under their very noses – and began looking about for the outlaw's lodge. How should he know it when he saw it? was a question he had asked himself over and over again. There was plainly but one way to proceed, and that was to visit every wigwam in the village until he found the one of which he was in search. This was something that more than one old trapper would have shrunk from undertaking; but, relying entirely upon his disguise, and remembering what Bob had told him – that he might go all over the village and into every lodge without being questioned – Frank resolved to attempt it. If he were captured it would be nothing more than what would most likely befall him if he tried to reach the fort; and he had the satisfaction of knowing that the Indians would not harm him.

The first lodge that Frank looked into was empty. The door had been thrown back, and by the flickering light of a fire which was burning in the center of the lodge, he was able to take a good survey of its interior. There were the skins on which the warriors had been sleeping when they were aroused by the chief's "death-whoop," but no one was in sight. An Indian woman came in just as he completed his investigations, but did not appear to notice him, and he hurried off to visit the next lodge. Just as he was about to place his hand upon the door, it was raised by some one on the inside, and Frank's heart fairly came up into his mouth when one of the outlaws stepped out. He looked savagely at the boy for a moment, and then shouldered his rifle and walked away; and presently Frank saw him mounted on his horse, and galloping toward the ravine.

"This is the place," said our hero, to himself. "Archie is in here; but now that I have found him, how am I going to get him out? That's a difficulty I did not think of before."

With a trembling hand Frank raised the door and peered under it, half expecting that Black Bill or some of his companions would jump out and make a prisoner of him; but there was no one in the lodge – no one except Archie, who lay in one corner, bound hand and foot. But if his body was confined, his tongue was free, and his spirit as undaunted as ever.

"You here!" he exclaimed, when he saw his cousin approaching him. "Clear out; I've seen enough of you for one night. If I could use my hands for about a minute, I would pay you for what you did to Dick Lewis. Keep away from me."

"Silence!" whispered Frank, as he kneeled down beside his cousin, and began untying his hands. "Don't say a word."

Archie was as surprised now as Frank had been when old Bob appeared to him in the chief's wigwam. He recognized the voice that addressed him, but he could hardly bring himself to believe that the hideous-looking object bending over him was Frank Nelson. He would have asked a hundred questions had not the latter interrupted him.

"We've no time to talk," he whispered, hurriedly, as he assisted his cousin to his feet. "I will explain every thing when we are out of danger. Now, then, you can never go through the village in that dress."

"I am afraid I can't go through it at all," replied Archie.

"Yes, you can. I don't believe there is a single warrior in the camp now, except the two who are guarding the chief's wigwam. They are all out looking for Dick. We have little to fear from the women and children, for they couldn't stop us if they tried. Is there any clothing in here?"

"I believe there is a hunting-shirt and cap in that corner."

"Well, get into them as quickly as possible, and I will go out and see if the coast is clear."

Frank, knowing that a medicine-man was expected to do things different from any body else, did not go out at the door, but crawled under the skins at the back of the lodge. It was well for him that he did so; for scarcely had he left Archie, when the door was raised and Black Bill came in, and was astonished to see his prisoner, whom he had left securely bound, standing in the middle of the lodge arraying himself in a hunting-shirt which he (the outlaw) had thrown off a little while before.

"Hallo!" he exclaimed, "what's all this yere? Ah ha! You were trying to escape, were you? Who turned you loose?"

Archie, seeing that his cousin's plans for liberating him had been nipped in the bud, put on a bold face, and made the best of the situation. He took all the blame upon himself. He knew that if he told the outlaw that he had had assistance, he would, of course, investigate the matter; and if he found Frank in the vicinity of the lodge, it might arouse his suspicions to such a degree that he would examine his disguise; and that would be very disagreeable for Frank.

"I have a way of turning myself loose whenever I feel like it," replied Archie. "Why didn't you stay away about five minutes longer? You can't keep me a prisoner."

"Can't!" exclaimed the outlaw. "Wal, I'll see about that. I knowed you were a slippery customer – all the Brents are – an' I kinder thought it would be a good plan fur me to come back here an' keep an eye on you, an' leave the others to hunt up Dick Lewis. It seems I got here jest in time. Now, crawl out of that huntin' shirt, an' I'll tie you up so tight that you won't get loose agin in a hurry."

Frank, who was lying flat on the ground at the back of the lodge, listened with a heavy heart to this conversation. His plans had failed, and it was useless to think of attempting to liberate his cousin again, for the outlaw had said that it was his intention to remain in the lodge and watch him. There was but one thing he could do now, and that was to look out for himself. His first hard work must be to find Dick Lewis; he would know just what ought to be done. Having come to this determination, Frank crawled slowly and cautiously away from the lodge, and finally, rising to his feet, hurried through the village; and having satisfied himself that there was no one observing his movements, he plunged into the willows that fringed the base of the mountains. It was not his intention to travel directly toward the fort, but to attempt to reach it by some roundabout way, and thus avoid meeting the Indians who were in pursuit of the trapper. He had something of an undertaking before him now, for he was in a strange country, and had not the least idea in which direction he ought to go to find his friends. When he reached the mountains he was as effectually lost as he had been on the day that he and Archie killed their first antelope; but trusting every thing to luck, he made his way through the thick woods as rapidly as the darkness would permit, and after stumbling about among logs and rocks until he was almost exhausted, he removed his mask, which, on account of the long bill attached to it had considerably impeded his progress through the bushes, and sat down to wait until daylight.

His thoughts and feelings were what any other boy's would have been under the same circumstances. His courage had been tested more than once during the few months he had passed in the Far West, and he had never yet shown himself to be a coward; on the contrary, his attempt to rescue Archie had proved that in an emergency he could be as daring and reckless as Dick Lewis himself. He could keep up his courage, and show a bold front while in the presence of his enemies, but to be alone in the mountains, with no weapon but his pocket-knife with which to defend himself, and nothing to occupy his mind, or draw his thoughts from the dangers yet to be encountered – this it was that tried his nerves; and his face was whiter, and he was more nearly overcome with fear now, than at any time during the day. His situation was scarcely more encouraging than when he was a prisoner. How could he hope to find the valley when he did not know where to look for it; and what if he did succeed in reaching it, and should find the fort in ashes, and the soldiers and trappers all massacred? What would become of him? He might starve to death, or be devoured by the grizzlies there in the mountains, and no one would ever know what had become of him.

"But I am not starved yet," said Frank, when he had reached this point in his meditations, "and thus far I haven't seen any wild animals to be afraid of. As long as I can lift a finger, I shall live in hopes of getting safely out of this scrape. Now, I am going to sleep. There is no knowing what is in store for me, and I may have need of all my strength before I see the sun set again."

Frank stretched himself upon the ground, with the medicine-man's mask under his head for a pillow, and soon forgot the Indians, grizzlies, and all the other perils with which he was surrounded, in a sound sleep. When he awoke it was broad daylight. He had had one visitor during the night, and that was a large gray wolf, which sat on his haunches at a little distance regarding Frank intently, and which took to his heels and quickly disappeared when the boy raised himself on his elbow.

"I don't think I should have slept so soundly if I had known that I had such a neighbor as that," thought Frank. "But after all, I wish I was sure that I had nothing worse than wolves to fear, although they did frighten me considerably when we had that race on the ice with them last winter. Now, if I only had a cup of Dick's coffee, and a venison-steak, I should be ready for work; but I don't see much chance to get any thing to eat up here."