The Young Ranchers; Or, Fighting the Sioux

by Edward Sylvester Ellis

The youth saw the force of the words. Crouching as low as possible, with the Sioux rifle in his hand, he passed between the bowlders opposite to the point at which Tim had fired, and which, therefore, was in the direction of the open prairie.

The move was one of those in which success depends wholly upon promptness. The Sioux would speedily dispose themselves so as to prevent anyone leaving, as soon as they found that the parties whom they were seeking were at bay among the bowlders. Fortunate, therefore, was it that no delay took place in the flight of young Starr, even though, when he started, the enemy was at the gate.

It required no very skilful woodcraft for him to get away, since it was not anticipated by the Sioux, and he had the best means for concealing himself.

There had been one idea in the mind of the rancher, which he would have carried out but for the sudden appearance of the Indians; that was for his son to take the remaining pony with him. The fugitives could make no use of him, and should it prove that Jack was gone, his owner would not be without the means of pushing to Fort Meade for help. Circumstances, however, prevented that precaution. It never would have done to attempt to take the remaining pony. Warren quickly vanished among the trees and bowlders, and the Rubicon was crossed.

But Jack was found just where he had been left, patiently awaiting the return of his master. The pursuit of Tim Brophy by the Sioux had led them in a different direction, though, had the flight of Warren been postponed for a short time, the steed must have fallen into the hands of the enemy.

The heart of the youth gave a bound of delight when he came upon the animal.

"Follow me, Jack," he said cheerily; "if you ever did your best, now is the time. The lives of us all depend upon you. Have a care, my boy, or you will slip."

In his eagerness the youth descended the slope faster than was prudent. Jack did slip, but quickly recovered himself, and no harm seemed to have been done.

It was but a short way to the edge of the prairie, where the pause was long enough to see that the trappings were right, when the young rancher swung himself into the saddle, twitched the rein, and said:

"Come!"