CHAPTER XI.
A STRANGE LETTER.
To return to Pawnee Brown at the time when he made the double discoverythat Yellow Elk, the rascally Indian, was riding his stolen mare, BonnieBird, and had as his fair captive Nellie Winthrop, Jack Rasco's niece.
For the moment the great scout was nearly dum founded by the revelation.He had not met Yellow Elk for several months, and had imagined that theIndian chief was safe within the territorial reservation allotted to himand his tribe.
As Yellow Elk shifted his fair burden, Nellie Winthrop's eyes opened andshe started up in alarm.
"Oh, you beast! Let me go!" she screamed faintly. She was about to saymore, but Yellow Elk clapped a dirty hand over her mouth and silencedher.
"No speak more," he muttered in his broken English. "White girl speaktoo much."
"But--but where are you taking me? This is not the boomers' camp."
"We come to camp soon--girl in too much hurry," rejoined the wilyredskin.
"I was told the camp was but a short distance out of town."
"Camp he move. Pawnee Brown not safe near big town," went on Yellow Elk.
"You're a good one for fairy tales," was the boomer's silent comment. Hehad withdrawn to the shelter of the thick brush and sat his steed like astatue, while his pistol was ready for use, with his forefinger upon thetrigger.
"But--but--what happened to me?" went on Nellie, struggling to sit up,while Yellow Elk held her back.
"White girl lose breath and shut eyes," was the answer, meaning thatNellie had fainted. "No more fight--Yellow Elk no hurt her."
"I will go no further with you--I do not believe your story!" criedNellie. "Let me down."
At these words the face of the Indian chief grew dark, and he mutteredseveral words in his own language which Nellie did not understand, butwhich Pawnee Brown made out to be that the White Bird was too sweet tobe lost so easily, he must take her to his cave in the mountains.
"Will you?" murmured Pawnee Brown. "Well, maybe, but not if I know it."
The mentioning of a cave in the mountains made Pawnee Brown curious. DidYellow Elk have such a hiding place? Where was it located, and was theIndian chief its only user?
"Perhaps some more of these reds have broken loose," he thought. "Iwould like to investigate. Who knows but what the cavalrymen are afterthem and not the boomers, as Dan Gilbert imagined."
A brief consideration of the subject and his mind was made up. So longas the Indian did not offer positive harm to Nellie Winthrop he wouldnot expose himself, but follow on behind, in hope of locating the caveand learning more of Yellow Elk's intended movements.
"Let me go, I say!" cried Nellie, but the Indian chief merely shook hishead.
"White girl be no fool. Indian friend; no hurt one hair of her head.Soon we be in camp and she will see what a friend Yellow Elk has been."
At this Nellie shook her head. That painted and dirty face was far toorepulsive to be trusted. But there was no help for it; the Indian heldher as in a vise, and she was forced to submit.
Moving along the trail, Indian and horse passed within a dozen feet ofwhere Pawnee Brown sat, still as silent as a block of marble. It was atrying moment. What if the horse he rode should make a noise, or if hisown Bonnie Bird should instinctively discover him and give the alarm?
"Poor Bonnie Bird, to have to carry a dirty redskin," thought theboomer. The ears of the beautiful mare went up as she drew close, andshe appeared to hesitate. But Yellow Elk urged her along by severalpunches in the ribs, and in a moment more the danger of discovery justthen was past.
On went the tall Indian along the ravine, peering cautiously ahead, withone hand around Nellie's waist and the other holding the reins and hispistol. He knew he was on a dangerous mission, and he stood ready, ifunmasked, to sell his worthless life dearly.
Pawnee Brown followed at a distance of a hundred feet, taking care topick his way so that his horse's hoofs should strike only the dirt andsoft moss, and that the brush growing among the tall trees should screenhim as much as possible.
Presently he saw the Indian halt and stare long and hard at a tall pinegrowing in front of a large flat rock.
"Wonder if he has missed his way?" mused the scout, but a moment laterYellow Elk proceeded onward, faster than ever.
Coming up to the pine, Pawnee Brown saw instantly what had attracted theredskin's attention. There was a blaze on the tree six inches square,and on the blaze was written in charcoal:
10 f. E. D. G.
"Hullo, a message from Dan," he cried, half aloud. He had read thestrange marking without difficulty. It ran as follows:
"Ten feet east. DAN GILBERT."
Pacing off the ten feet in the direction indicated, Pawnee Brown locateda flat rock. Raising this, he uncovered a small, circular hole, in thecentre of which lay a leaf torn from a note book, on which was written:
"I write this to notify Pawnee Brown or any of my other friends that Ihave gone up the ravine on the trail of half a dozen cavalry scouts whoare up here, not only to watch for boomers, but also to try and locateseveral Indians who have left the reservation without permission. I willbe back soon. DAN GILBERT."
The boomer read the note with interest. Then he hastily scribbled offthe answer:
"Have read the note that was left. Am following Yellow Elk, who stole mymare and has Jack Rasco's niece a captive. Yellow Elk is bound for somecave in the mountains. PAWNEE BROWN."
The answer finished, the boomer placed it in the hole, let back the flatrock and wrote on the blaze of the tree, under Dan Gilbert's initials:
P. B.