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But the buffaloes were close at hand. They were sweeping on like a whirlwind. The Indians could only ride on, and trust to clear them. But their pathway was wide. It reached to within a furlong of where Tom was riding. They never paused; some of the animals in the advance might have veered to the right or left on seeing the Indians, but the pressure from behind prevented. The savages saw their fate, and it inspired them with more dread than an encounter with white foes. Finally, they halted in despair, and their fate overtook them. Riders and steeds were overthrown as by a flash of lightning. The dark, s.h.a.ggy herd did not stop, but dashed on. Tom, in awe and excitement, halted his horse, and watched the terrible sight. He could not but sympathize with his late companions, though he knew they would have taken his life.
The buffaloes pa.s.sed on, but left no life behind them. The Indians and their horses were all trampled to death. Tom was alone upon the plains.
He thanked G.o.d in his heart for his self-deliverance; though he shuddered at the manner in which it was wrought. He, too, had been near being overwhelmed, but, through G.o.d's mercy, had escaped.
But for what had he escaped? Unless he found his own party, or some other, he would starve to death, or might fall into the power of some other tribe of Indians. He must ride on.
An hour later he thought he saw in the distance a solitary horseman. It might be an Indian; but that was not likely, for they generally traveled in numbers. It was more likely to be a white man. Any white man would be a friend, and could guide him to safety, unless he were himself lost. At any rate, there seemed but one course to follow, and that to ride toward the stranger.
When Tom drew near his heart was filled with sudden joy, for, in the new arrival, he recognized John Miles. Miles was no less delighted.
"Tom, old boy," he said, "is it you? How did you get away? I was afraid we should never see you again."
"I feared so myself," said Tom; "but I have been saved in a wonderful manner. Has the train moved on?"
"Do you think we would go on without you? Not a man was willing to stir till you were found. Even Peabody, though afraid of falling into the hands of the Indians, and losing his scalp, was in favor of our waiting.
The boys are very anxious about you."
Tom heard this with satisfaction. The esteem of our friends and a.s.sociates is dear to us all; and it is always sad to think that we may be forgotten in absence.
"But you have not told me of your escape, Tom," said Miles. "Where are the Indians who captured you?"
"All dead!" answered Tom solemnly.
"Good heavens! You don't mean to say----"
"That I killed them? Oh, no! Look over there! Can you see anything?"
Miles looked earnestly.
"I think I see upon the ground some men and horses."
"It is the Indians. They were pursuing me when they were trampled to death by a herd of buffaloes."
"Wonderful!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Miles. "I have heard of such things, but hardly believed in them."
"It was a terrible sight," said Tom soberly. "I wish I could have been saved in some other way."
"It was you or they," said Miles sententiously. "It is well as it is."
They were warmly welcomed at the camp. Tom was looked upon as one raised from the dead; and the particulars of his wonderful escape were called for again and again.
"You are sure they didn't scalp you, Tom?" asked Mr. Peabody.
"Feel and see, Mr. Peabody," said Tom, smiling. "I believe my hair is pretty firm."
"I wouldn't have been in your shoes for all the gold in California,"
said Peabody fervently.
"I believe you, Mr. Peabody. Indeed, I think I may say that I wouldn't be placed in the same situation again for all the gold in the world."
"Tom," said Scott, "you are bound to succeed."
"What makes you think so?"
"You have shown so much pluck and coolness that you are sure to get along."
"I hope so, I am sure, for my father's sake."
Some weeks later a wagon-train was seen slowly climbing a mountain pa.s.s on the crest of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. They reached the summit, and, looking eagerly to the westward, saw the land of gold at their feet. They had been months in reaching it. Now it lay spread before them, glorious in the sunlight.
"Yonder lies the promised land, my lad," said Ferguson. "It remains to be seen whether we shall be rewarded for our long and toilsome journey."
"If hard work will win success, I mean to succeed," said Tom stoutly.
"I don't see any gold," said Lawrence Peabody, with a disappointed air.
"Did you think it grew on trees, Mr. Peabody?" asked Scott sarcastically.
"I should like to stop a week at a first-cla.s.s hotel before getting to work," remarked Peabody. "I don't like roughing it."
"We will leave you at the first hotel of that sort we meet. Now, boys, gather about me, and give three rousing cheers for California."
Thus spoke Miles, and swung his hat. The cheers were given with a will, and the wagon-train commenced the descent.
THE END.