Bill Biddon, Trapper Part 24

"Biddon is safe, of course; and Relmond was a captive, I believe, awhile, but he managed to make his escape some time since."

"How do you know that much, I should like to know?"

"Simply for the reason that I am William Relmond."

Nathan Todd started as if struck by a thunderbolt. His eyes and mouth opened, his rifle fell unheeded to his feet, and he stared all agape at me. His face was such an embodiment of wonder, doubt, then certainty and pleasure, that I gave way completely to my feelings, and, seating myself upon the ground rolled over and laughed one of those laughs which rack our whole being, and make us as weak as an infant. When I again resumed my feet, my old friend approached and extended his hand.

"What you laughing at? I knowed it was you all the time."

It is hardly worth time to dwell upon the words which pa.s.sed between Nat and myself after my ident.i.ty became known to him. Of course he was half frantic with joy in turn, and overwhelmed me with questions and explanations, and in the course of half an hour we both came to a full understanding.

I had acquainted Nat with my separation from Imogene, and that she was waiting for me at "Death Rock." He knew the place well and without losing time we hastened forward. He had become acquainted with Imogene, and had often conversed with her about her lost sister, and of me, little dreaming that she had ever seen me.

Nat proved his knowledge of the country, for his course toward the Death Rock was direct, and, ere we had traveled many miles it loomed up to view. It seemed a long while to reach it, but before dark we were both conversing with Imogene.

The night was spent within the cave, Nat and I conversing around the fire, while Imogene, wrapped in our blankets, slumbered unconsciously beside it. Nat succeeded in catching several fine trout from a small mountain-stream, and when we resumed our journey, I hardly think three more hopeful people could have been found in the universe.

Our progress was less rapid than usual, as we feared for Imogene, although her life had been such as to make her the very embodiment of health and activity. At night we reached a bend of the Yellowstone, and camped upon its banks. A fire was again kindled, and while Nat kept watch, I concluded to take a little rest. He allowed me to sleep heavily until morning, when I was aroused by one of the most terrific, unearthly shrieks that ever greeted mortal ear.

"G.o.d of heaven! what does that mean?" I exclaimed, springing to my feet.

"Sounds like the 'Snorter,' the engine that I heard on the Boston road," answered Nat, rubbing his eyes, and listening.

"Hus.h.!.+" I admonished, as again that hideous scream burst upon us.

"Wonder if the Pacific Railroad's built yet?" remarked Nat, with the utmost _nonchalance_; "or, maybe, some of their engines have run away from them."

As I stood wondering and waiting, the gray light of morning commenced appearing through the forest, and shortly the day dawned. A moment after, as I was about to awaken Imogene, the awful scream was repeated, seemingly directly across the river. It was different from a human voice, but sounded like the cry of a wild animal in extremity of the direst agony.

As if our terror was still too faint, we now heard the loud ring of a _bell_, apparently from the very forest.

"What is that?" asked Imogene, pale with horror.

"Heaven knows!" I answered.

"Sounds like the old bell up in Lubec," remarked Nat; who, singularly enough, was the least agitated.

"Listen!" whispered Imogene, raising her hand.

Now was heard a dead sound like the distant heave of the stormy sea, growing stronger and nearer each second, and at intervals that wild, unearthly shriek reverberated through the forest arches with a horrid power.

Matters were now a.s.suming such an inexplicable form I began to fear I was losing my senses. I looked around upon the faces of others; but no--it was all a terrible reality.

"Look!" spoke Imogene, in a husky whisper, pointing down the river.

I did look and what was seen? There, just rounding the curve of the Yellowstone below us, burst the broad flaming hull of a steamboat.

For a moment I could scarce believe my senses. Nat was the first to recover himself.

"I knowed what it was all the time, by gracious! Hilloa, you!"

The latter exclamation was addressed in vociferous tones to the steamboat; and, fearing lest he might still escape notice, he sprang into the water and waved his plumes excitedly over his head, yelling at the top of his voice all the time. We had been seen, however, and heeded by those on the boat. A small bell tinkled, and instantly the huge wheel of the steamer reversed, plowing the water into foamy waves, and quickly bringing it to a stand still. The captain then stepped from his wheelhouse and hailed us:

"What's wanted?"

"Supper and lodging," answered Nat.

"Who are you?"

"White men of course."

"White men; I see only one, and you're an Injin, sure as I'm Captain Garbold."

I now stepped forward from the shelter of the forest, to which I had instinctively retreated with the trembling Imogene, upon the appearance of the boat.

"Ah! who are those?" called the captain, instantly.

"We are whites, as you can readily see, and only ask to be taken to our friends."

The captain immediately turned and spoke to several beside him. A few minutes afterward a small boat put out from the steamer, and Imogene, followed by myself, stepped into the boat, but Nat lingered.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "Hilloa, you!"]

"Come, hurry, Nat, don't keep them waiting," said I.

"_I'm going to remain!_" he remarked, quietly.

"What do you mean?" I asked, in astonishment.

He approached, and whispered in my ear:

"_I'm going to hunt up Irene Merment!_"

"Why----"

"Don't say anything," he interrupted, with a smile. "I will do it.

There is no use of trying to persuade me to go with you. My mind is made up, and has been made up a long time."

Imogene joined her entreaties with mine, but he could not be made to change his resolution. Not wis.h.i.+ng to detain our friends, I extended my hand.

"If you are determined to remain, I must now bid you good-by, Nat.

Your determination is so new to me that I can hardly realize it. It is a hopeless search upon which you are going, I fear. May the One who has so mercifully watched over all of us, still protect you. If you ever see Biddon, don't forget me to him. Good-by."

"Nor me either," said Imogene, taking his hand. "I long to see him, to pour out my heart's grat.i.tude to him. I hope we shall see you again."

"Oh! you will, sure. I shall be down in the States one of these days, and like enough bring a wife with me, and several little Nat Todds, as good-looking as your heirs will be. You mustn't think this is a last farewell, for I know it isn't."

We exchanged farewells once more, and then were rowed out to the steamboat. As we were received on board, Nat swung his plume over his head, and shouted: