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Frank picked up his mask, looked at the sun, and struck off through the woods in the direction he supposed the fort to be. He had not made many steps before he found himself on the brink of a narrow gorge, which extended up and down the mountain. Its sides were thickly covered with bushes and rocks, and it was so deep that the roar of the mountain-torrent which ran through it came but faintly to his ears. Was it not fortunate for him that he had camped before reaching the gully? He might have fallen into it in the darkness, and that would have been infinitely worse than remaining a prisoner among the Indians. He wondered if he could jump it, but concluded that he would not make the attempt, when he discovered, a short distance from him, a small tree lying across the gorge. Upon examining it closely, however, he found that it would prove rather a perilous undertaking to cross it, for the bark was slippery, the tree was more than half decayed, and its top rested but lightly on the opposite bank. He was not allowed many minutes in which to make up his mind what he would do, for while he stood looking, first at the tree, and then up and down the gorge, in the hope of finding some better way of crossing, he was startled by a whistling sound in the air, an arrow whizzed by much too close to his head for comfort, and glancing from a tree on the opposite bank, fell down into the gorge.

Frank was so frightened that for a moment he was deprived of all power of action; and before he could look around to see where the missile came from, another arrow whistled by, a little closer to him than the other, and then came a third, which found a lodgment in the mask which he carried in his hand. Then Frank began to realize that it was dangerous to stand there in that exposed position; and in the excitement of the moment, scarcely knowing what he was about, he gathered all his energies for the effort, bounded into the air, alighted in safety on the other side of the gorge, and in a moment more was concealed behind a tree which grew on the edge of the precipice. This feat called forth an exclamation of amazement from his concealed enemy; and when Frank looked back at the gorge, he was astonished himself. He never could have made a standing jump like that in his sober moments.

THE LEAP FOR LIFE

Scarcely had Frank disappeared behind his tree, when a young Indian stepped from the bushes, and stood out in full view of him. It was his rival of the morning – the one with whom he had run the foot-race. He carried a bow, and a quiver full of arrows, in his hand, and stood gazing earnestly at the gorge, as if mentally calculating its width; and the more he looked at it, the more astonished he became.

"Ugh!" he grunted, at last. "Good boy! Make good jump, make very good jump!" Then looking toward the place where Frank was concealed, he called out: "Hay, you!"

The young Indian did not speak these words as plainly as we have written them. He uttered them with his teeth closed, and with a grunting, guttural sound, that can not be imitated on paper.

"What do you want?" asked the fugitive, surprised to hear himself thus addressed.

"You come over, and I no shoot," replied the young Indian.

"Go over there!" exclaimed Frank, "I guess not. If you want to see me more than I want to see you, you must come over here. What do you want, any how?"

"We go back to chief. I no shoot."

"Well, if it's all the same to you, I'll wait awhile before I go back to the chief. You want the honor of taking me prisoner, but you sha'n't have it."

"You no come?" asked the savage.

"No, I no come. I'll stay here."

"You no come, I shoot."

"Go ahead; but keep yourself pretty close over there, or I may shoot too."

"Oh, no," laughed the Indian. "You got no gun, no pistol, no knife – no nothing."

If the young warrior had only known it, he was mistaken in this. Frank had something, which, although by no means as serviceable as a rifle or revolver would have been, was still effective enough in his hands to keep his enemy from crossing the gorge. While this conversation was going on, he had taken a good view of his situation, and finding that he had no way of retreat, he had prepared himself to stand a siege. The tree behind which he had taken refuge was a very small one, not more than half large enough to conceal him from the view of the Indian, and stood, as we have said, on the very brink of the gorge. It afforded him but a poor protection, but he knew that he must remain there, for there was not another tree or rock, or even a thicket of bushes large enough to conceal him, within twenty yards, and the mountain at his back was much too steep to be scaled. If he left his tree to find a better place of concealment, he would present a fair mark for the arrows of the Indian, who handled his bow with so much skill that Frank did not care to expose himself.

Frank, seeing that he was fairly cornered, began making preparations for compelling his enemy to remain on his own side of the gully; for he noticed that the young warrior carried a knife and tomahawk in his belt, and he was afraid that, if he allowed him to come to close quarters, he might not be able to vanquish him as easily as he had done before. At the foot of the tree was a rock which had begun crumbling away; and while he was talking to the Indian, Frank had busied himself in collecting the pieces that were of a size and weight convenient to throw. He had played ball so often that he had become a swift and accurate thrower, and he told himself that if the Indian did not mind what he was about, the interview would end in a way he had not dreamed of.

"He thinks he has got me fast now," thought Frank; "but I shouldn't wonder if he found himself mistaken. If he gives me a fair chance, I'll knock him down with one of these rocks, and go over there and take his weapons away from him. Then I'll make him guide me to the fort by the shortest route."

"Hay, you white boy! You no come I shoot!" exclaimed the Indian again; and, as he spoke, he fitted an arrow to his bow, and pointed it at Frank.

"Shoot away!" replied the latter.

The Indian let fly the arrow, and Frank threw a stone at the same instant. Both made good shots. The arrow struck the tree behind which our hero was concealed, and the stone whistled through the feathers on the young warrior's head-dress. He escaped by an inch.

"Ugh!" he ejaculated, in great astonishment.

"Ugh!" echoed Frank. "Didn't I tell you that you had better keep close? Look out! Here comes another!"

Away flew a second stone, and the Indian dived into the bushes just in time to avoid it, for it went straight toward the mark. He began to have some respect for the white boy, who, although he was without a weapon of any kind, was still brave enough to stand his ground.

The contest thus commenced was kept up for a quarter of an hour. The arrows whistled by the tree whenever Frank showed so much as an inch of his head, and were always answered by a volley of stones, which flew like bullets through the bushes where the Indian was concealed, compelling him more than once to change his position. Then there was quiet for awhile, and the combatants stood watching one another, Frank keeping a sharp lookout for any tricks on the part of his antagonist, and wondering what would be his next move. He was not long in finding out, for presently the young warrior set up a whoop which echoed and re-echoed among the mountains, until it seemed to Frank that the woods were full of yelling savages.

"If he is trying to frighten me, I hope he will have a good time of it," thought Frank. "Perhaps he has settled himself down there with the intention of starving me out. If he has, he will find it up-hill business, for I can go without food and water as long as he can. If I only had my rifle, wouldn't I show him something?"

The Indian waited a few minutes, and repeated the yell; and this time, to Frank's utter amazement and consternation, there was an answer. It came faintly to his ears, but still it was so plain and distinct that he knew he could not be mistaken. Had his rival been calling for assistance? The question was scarcely formed in his mind, when the savage raised his head above the bushes, and coolly announced:

"Hay, you white boy! More Indian coming!"

At that moment Frank's body, being but partially protected by his tree, offered a fair mark, and the young savage was prompt to take advantage of it. Another arrow flew across the gully, and this time it was not thrown away. Frank reeled a moment, threw his arms wildly about his head, and fell heavily to the ground.

CHAPTER VIII
FRANK'S FRIEND, THE GRIZZLY

The young Indian was evidently very much surprised at the result of his shot. He stood for a moment as if petrified, looking at the prostrate form across the gorge, and then slowly and cautiously stepped out of the bushes to take a nearer view. He shaded his eyes with his hand, twisted himself into all sorts of shapes, ran up and down the bank, and looked at the motionless figure from a dozen different positions, and having satisfied himself at last that his enemy was really dead, he placed his hand to his mouth, and uttered a series of hideous yells, that once more awoke the echoes far and near.

His next move was to cross the gorge. He could not jump it, as Frank had done, and so was obliged to make use of the tree. It trembled and cracked beneath his weight, but he crossed it in safety, and bending over the young hunter, twisted his hand in his hair and yelled furiously. He held this position but an instant. He looked for the wound made by the arrow, but could not find it. He felt something, however, and that was a very slight pull at his belt, as four sinewy fingers were carefully inserted beneath it. With a cry of terror he sprang to his feet, and Frank arose with him – unharmed, save a slight red mark across his forehead, and as full of fight as ever. Before the young Indian could fully comprehend the trick that had been played upon him, his cries for help were stifled by a strong grasp on his throat, and he was thrown flat upon his back, with his head hanging over the brink of the precipice.

"Now, red skin, I'll show you how easily I can handle you," exclaimed Frank. "I was only playing with you this morning, but now I am in earnest. Keep perfectly still, or I'll pitch you into the gully."

Frank, as we have said, was greatly alarmed when he found that the Indian had been calling for assistance, and that his shouts had elicited a response from some of his friends. He had no fears but that he could hold his ground against one Indian, armed with a bow and arrow, but suppose that the reinforcements who were coming up were full-grown Indians, and supplied with rifles? He must escape from there before they arrived; and the only way that he could discover to accomplish this, was to contrive some plan to induce his antagonist to cross the gorge. If he could bring him to close quarters, and could get hold of him before he had an opportunity to draw his knife or tomahawk, he was sure that he would have nothing to fear; but he dared not leave his tree while his enemy held his position on the opposite side of the gully, for he would send his arrows about him like hail-stones.

All these thoughts passed through Frank's mind in an instant of time; and when the savage discharged his last arrow at him – it passed so close to him that it left a mark across his forehead – he staggered and fell, as if he had been mortally wounded. That was his plan for bringing his enemy across the gorge, and we have seen how it succeeded. His design now was to disarm the savage, tie him to a tree, and then take to his heels, and leave the gully as far behind as possible, before the reinforcements arrived.

"I'm all right yet, you see," said Frank, holding his antagonist down with one hand, and with the other unfastening the belt in which he carried his knife and tomahawk. "If you live a few years longer, you will learn that an Indian never gets smart enough to outwit a white man. Now – "

Frank did not finish the sentence, for just then he happened to look up, and saw a sight that drove all thoughts of the Indian out of his mind. The bank on which he and his antagonist were lying, hung over the gorge, and a portion of it, about twenty feet square, having, no doubt, been loosened by their struggles, was sinking down into the abyss, carrying with it Frank and the Indian, and also the tree which had served the latter for a breast-work. Its motion was slow, almost imperceptible at first, but it was gathering headway, and moving more rapidly every instant. As quick as thought Frank was on his feet, and gathering himself for a spring; but it was too late. The earth slid from beneath him, and, like a drowning man grasping at straws, Frank clutched the branches of the tree with a death-grip, and plunged with it into the gorge. For an instant he descended with what seemed to him lightning rapidity, and then the motion was suddenly checked – so suddenly, that the branches were almost torn from his grasp – and he found himself swinging in the air, twenty feet below the top of the precipice. The tree was hanging with its head downward, but its roots were still imbedded in the firm earth above; and that was all that had saved Frank from destruction.

All this passed in much less time than we have taken to describe it, and it may be imagined that Frank's mind was in a great whirl. When he recovered himself sufficiently to understand his situation, he looked up and saw the young Indian clinging to the roots of the tree, and struggling to draw himself up to the firm ground above. He saw more: he saw that with every effort the Indian made, he was loosening the roots of the tree, and that one by one they were giving away. Forgetting, in that moment of peril, that he and the young warrior had been engaged in a desperate fight but a moment before, Frank, still hanging at arm's length from the branches of the tree, with an abyss of unknown depth below him, into which he was every instant expecting to be plunged by the giving away of the roots above, addressed words of advice and encouragement to the frightened savage.

"Take it easy, up there!" said he, coolly. "Don't thrash about so, for you are only exhausting yourself, without doing any good. Take your time, and you are all right."

But the Indian was too nearly overcome with fear, and too intent upon extricating himself from his dangerous position, to heed the advice. He struggled more desperately than ever, and finally, to Frank's immense relief, succeeded in pulling himself over the roots, and crawling up to the solid bank. Then his fear all vanished. He uttered a loud yell of exultation, and bent over the precipice to look at Frank, who was coming up through the branches hand over hand. He watched him for a moment, and then disappeared from view; and when he came back to the brink of the gorge, he carried his bow in his hand, with an arrow fitted to the string, which he drew to its head, and pointed straight at Frank's breast.

The young hunter was now menaced by another danger. He had escaped falling into the gorge almost by a miracle, but it did not seem possible that there was the least chance for escape this time. The Indian was standing on the bank above him, and Frank could almost touch the steel head of the arrow with his hand. He was completely at the mercy of his foe, who surely could not miss so large a mark at that distance. His bearing at that moment would have delighted Dick Lewis, could he have seen him. He hung by his hands from the branches of the tree, looking defiantly up into the Indian's face, and not a muscle quivered. The young warrior was evidently astonished, for he lowered his bow, gazed down at his helpless antagonist for a moment, and called out:

"White boy, you no afraid?"

"Shoot close," replied Frank, his voice as firm and steady as ever. "If you miss, you are a goner."

Once more the arrow was drawn to its head, and pointed at Frank's heart; but the Indian did not shoot. He looked up, as if alarmed by some unusual sound, and then, to Frank's astonishment, dropped his bow, and took to his heels. The young hunter could not imagine what had caused his precipitate flight, and just then he did not care. Something had befriended him by frightening the Indian away most opportunely, and Frank improved the respite thus unexpectedly given him, by clasping his legs around the body of the tree, and ascending quickly to the top of the gorge. He did not know what new danger he might meet there, nor did he give the matter a moment's thought. He would certainly have a much better chance for life while standing on the solid ground, where he could fight or run, as circumstances might require, than he had while hanging suspended in the air over the brink of the gorge.

In a few seconds Frank was within reach of the roots of the tree, and drawing in a long breath of relief, he pulled himself over them, and looked cautiously over the top of the bank. Then he saw that the friend who had rescued him from the arrow of the savage, was an enormous grizzly bear, almost large and ugly enough to be a second Old Davy. About fifty yards down the bank of the ravine stood a scrub pine; and in its topmost branches sat the young warrior, looking down at his shaggy foe, which was walking in a circle around the tree, now and then seating himself on his haunches, and gazing up into it, as if trying to contrive some plan to bring the Indian down to him.

"Hurra for you, grizzly," said Frank, to himself. "You have rendered me a most valuable service; and that you may never feel a trapper's bullet, or an Indian's arrow, is the sincere wish of, yours truly. Keep him up there for an hour or two, and I'll just take his weapons, and make myself scarce about here. I'll never forget this gully as long as I live."

Frank crawled noiselessly upon the bank, picked up the bow, and the quiver of arrows, possessed himself of the Indian's belt, which contained his knife and tomahawk, and looked about for some means of crossing the gorge without attracting the attention of the grizzly. That was a matter that he need not have troubled himself about, for the bear's quick ear had caught the sound of his footsteps, and, leaving the tree, he turned to attack Frank. He came on at a rapid pace, uttering hideous growls, and looking savage enough to frighten any body. He certainly frightened Frank, who could see but one way of escape, and that was to jump the gully. It was wider now than it was before, but he had a chance for a running start, and he accomplished the feat in safety, to the no small amazement of the Indian, who yelled at him with all the strength of his lungs.

"I suppose you thought I was caught, didn't you?" exclaimed Frank. "Well, I wasn't. I am all right yet; and now I will leave you in the grizzly's company."

But Frank, as it happened, was not yet done with the bear. The animal stopped when he saw that the boy had eluded him, and turned immediately, and ran toward the tree which lay across the gully. Things began to look dark again for the young hunter. If the bear were allowed to cross the gorge, he would, of course, compel him to take refuge in a tree, and there was no knowing how long he might keep him there. He could not forget that there were more Indians not a great way off, and that they had heard the young warrior's yells, and were hastening to his assistance. The grizzly, although he had saved him from the fury of his rival, might, after all, be the cause of his capture.

Frank saw the necessity of prompt action. His first thought was to try an arrow on the bear; but he abandoned the idea when he reflected that the bow was a weapon to which he was not accustomed, and that the chances were not one in ten that his arrow would reach a vital part. The grizzly was already half way across the gorge. The tree shook and bent beneath his weight, and Frank hoped it would break; but he could not afford to trust any thing to luck. He put it out of the animal's power to cross to his side of the gully, and caused his destruction at the same time, by seizing the tree with both hands, and lifting it from its place, and pitching it over the precipice. It fell with a loud crash, carrying with it the bear, which speedily disappeared from his view among the bushes and rocks which covered the sides of the gorge.

Frank, scarcely waiting to see what had become of the grizzly, snatched up the Indian's weapons, and flew down the mountain at the top of his speed, fastening the belt around his waist, and slinging the quiver of arrows over his shoulder as he ran. His mishaps at the gully had consumed a good deal of valuable time, and Frank was now in momentary expectation of hearing the reinforcements, who had been summoned by his rival, bounding along his trail in pursuit. He could not hope to beat full-grown Indian braves in a fair race, but he could, perhaps, elude them, and this he resolved to attempt. He had often heard the trappers describe the plans to which they resorted to throw pursuing Indians off their trail, and the information he had gained from their stories was of value to him now. He walked on every log he could find, jumped from rock to rock, doubled on his trail, and finally he found himself on the banks of a little trout-brook, the course of which he followed for two or three miles, walking in the water all the way. Of course, as he paid no attention to the points of the compass, he got completely bewildered; and when he stepped out of the brook, and sat down on the bank to rest, he did not know whether he had been traveling toward the fort or not, or whether he was distant from it one mile or twenty. But that was a matter that did not trouble him. He was satisfied that he had eluded pursuit for the present, and he was also certain of another thing, and that was, that he was very hungry. His first care must be to obtain something to eat. That was not a difficult task, for there was a trout-brook at his feet, and he had a fish-line, and a flint and steel in his pocket. In half an hour's time a fire was burning brightly on the bank, three large trout, supported on sticks driven into the ground, were roasting before it, and Frank lay stretched out on the grass, watching the fish with a hungry eye, and thinking over his adventures at the gully. He began to be lonesome, and to long for companionship; and his wish was gratified before he was many minutes older, for, when the fish were done to a turn, and he was about to begin his meal, he was startled by the sound of voices and footsteps. He listened intently for a moment, and finding that the sounds grew louder, and that the intruders, whoever they were, were approaching his camp, he caught up his bow and arrows, and darted into the bushes. He had barely time to conceal himself before Black Bill and Adam Brent emerged from a thicket on the opposite side of the brook. The former stopped and looked about him suspiciously when he saw the fire, and the fish roasting before it, and cocked his rifle, as if in momentary expectation of discovering an enemy. A single glance at Adam's face satisfied Frank that he was a prisoner, and not a willing companion of the outlaw.

"Somebody has been campin' thar," said Black Bill; "but I reckon he heered us, an' tuk himself off. We'll go over an' look at things, an' see what's been goin' on."

The outlaw and his captive crossed the brook, and the former, after a few minutes' examination of the ground about the fire, struck the butt of his rifle with his fist, and opened his eyes in great amazement.

"It's the feller that run the foot-race yesterday, as sartin as I'm alive," said he, in a tone of voice which indicated that he did not understand the matter at all; "an' I'd like to know how he come here. The last time I seed him he was a prisoner in the chief's lodge, an' thar were two Injuns guardin' him. See them shoe-prints on the bank of the brook? Thar's where he stood when he ketched them fish. An' here's the pole he used, too. He was layin' on the grass beside that rock, an' when he heered us comin', he run off."

"Which was a lucky thing for him," observed Adam.

"Wal, I don't reckon it will do him any good," replied the outlaw; "'cause arter we eat these yere fish of his'n, we'll hunt him up. If we don't find him, some of the Injuns will, most likely; an' even if he aint ketched at all, how much better off is he than he would be with the chief? Thar aint nothing left of Fort Stockton, an' he can't find no friends short of Fort Benton, an' that's a good hundred miles from here."

Frank was lying in the bushes, not more than twenty feet from the outlaw, and distinctly heard every word of the conversation. The information he gained from it destroyed his last hope. The savages had made the attack upon the trading-post during the previous night, and it had been successful. The soldiers and trappers were all massacred or scattered to the four winds of heaven, and he had no friends to look to for assistance within less than a hundred miles. The prospect before him was certainly most discouraging, but he could not dwell upon it then, for he had other matters to think of. He was in close proximity to a dangerous enemy, and how was he to elude him? This question was answered by the outlaw himself, whose actions suggested to Frank another daring project, which he was prompt to carry into execution. Black Bill laid his rifle upon the ground, and kneeled down beside the brook to drink. Scarcely had he taken a swallow of the water, when he heard footsteps behind him, and upon looking up saw Frank standing over him with his bow in his hand, and an arrow pointed straight at his breast.

"Don't move hand or foot," said the young hunter, so excited that he could scarcely speak. "Your game is up."

Adam was no less astonished at Frank's sudden appearance than was the outlaw; but he quickly recovered his presence of mind, and catching up his captor's rifle, leveled it full at his head.

"Surrender, Black Bill!" he exclaimed. "If you attempt to get up I'll send a ball into you."

CAPTURE OF BLACK BILL BY FRANK AND ADAM BRENT

The looks of the weapons were enough to frighten the outlaw into submission. He made no remark, but it was easy enough to see that he was not brave enough to think seriously of attempting resistance.

"Now, Adam," said Frank, "keep him covered with your rifle, and if he shows fight, bang away. I'll soon put it out of his power to do any mischief."

As Frank spoke he produced his fish-line from his pocket, and after doubling it two or three times, passed it around the outlaw's wrists, and tied it securely. The latter, at first, showed a disposition to be ugly, and resisted Frank's efforts to bring his hands behind his back; but the expression he saw on the face of Adam Brent, as he cocked the rifle, and placed its cold muzzle against his temple, quickly brought him to terms. Frank handled the fish-line skilfully, and in a few minutes the outlaw was as helpless as though he had been in irons.

"There!" said Adam; "he is all right, and so am I. I feel a little more at ease than I did ten minutes ago. What's to be done now?"

"The first think is breakfast," replied Frank. "Here are three trout – one apiece; and although they are hardly enough to make a meal for one hungry man, we can't catch any more, for my fish-line is in use. Help yourself. I'll feed Black Bill, if he wants any thing to eat. By the way, is this man what he claims to be?"

"I suppose he is my uncle," answered Adam; "but he doesn't act like it, does he? He has kept me a prisoner for ten years; or, it amounts to the same thing, for I could scarcely go out of the house, unless accompanied by my father. That is the story I promised to tell you, and I will relate it now while we are resting and eating our breakfast. Then I will tell you what happened last night at the fort."

"Black Bill, if you want me to feed you, come here," said Frank.

"Chaw your own grub," was the gruff response.

"All right. If you get hungry before night, you will know who to blame."

The boys, leaving the outlaw sitting sullenly on the bank of the brook, stretched themselves on the grass near the fire, with their weapons close at their side, and Adam began his story.