Frank in the Mountains

by Harry Castlemon

So saying, Adam began making preparations for the night. He threw down his weapons, stuck his torch into the ground, and ascended out of the cave to bring down the wood which he had collected. In a few minutes a fire was blazing brightly in the center of the Old Bear's Hole (the passage that led to the top of the hill answered all the purposes of a chimney), a quantity of wood sufficient to keep it burning all night was piled in one corner, and Adam sat on the hemlock boughs whittling out some spits on which to cook the supper when Frank brought it in. All this while that dark object behind the rocks had been looking down at him, closely watching every move he made.

When the spits were finished, Adam went out of the cave to look for Frank. He began to think that if the big-horns were as plenty about there as his friend had represented them to be, he was a long time in finding one. His impatience soon gave way to anxiety; and when at last it grew quite dark, and Frank did not make his appearance, he became alarmed. He could not go out to look for him, for he did not know the direction in which he had gone; and, besides, he might get bewildered in the darkness, and be unable to find his way back to the cave. For two hours he kept watch at the top of the hill—as Dick, years before, had kept watch for the return of Bill Lawson—listening in vain for the sound of Frank's footsteps, and then he reluctantly came to the conclusion that he was destined to pass the night alone and supperless. He did not mind the loss of his supper so much, but he knew he would be lonesome down there in that gloomy cavern, with no one to talk to. He felt the need of companionship; and, more than that, he was harassed by the fear that Frank had fallen into some danger.

"There is but one thing that I can do," he soliloquized, "and that is to wait until daylight and follow his trail. I'll never make another step toward Fort Benton until I know what has become of him. It would be a cowardly piece of business in me to desert him, after what he has done for me."

Adam's first care was to make his camp secure against any visitors he might chance to have during the night. The bright fire which was burning in the cave, and which shone out at the mouth of the passage-way, lighting up the bushes all around, was just the thing to keep off four-footed enemies, but it might serve to guide the outlaws, whom he feared more than bears or panthers, to his place of retreat. The light must be covered; and that could be easily done, for there was the log which the trappers had more than once used to conceal this entrance to the Old Bear's Hole. Adam rolled it close to the opening, and, after listening again to make sure that Frank was not approaching, he backed down into the passage-way and pulled the log over it, leaving only a small opening for the passage of smoke.

For the next half hour Adam was miserable enough. He lay upon the boughs, gazing into the fire and thinking over his adventures, now and then raising his head to listen for Frank's footsteps—once or twice almost certain that he heard his voice—and finally he fell into an uneasy slumber. When he awoke, it was with a start and a presentiment of evil. He knew he heard a voice now, but it was not Frank's voice. Starting up in alarm, he grasped the bow which lay close at his side, and looked up the passage-way in the direction from which the voice came. A cold sweat started out all over him, and he trembled in every limb when he saw that the log which he had placed over the opening had been removed, and that two men were leaning over it, peering down into the cave. The fire had burned out, leaving only a bed of smoldering coals; consequently it was dark in the Old Bear's Hole, and Adam was sure the men could not see him, although he could observe every move they made, and could even distinguish their features. The men were Black Bill and his friends.

"Wal, I reckon we've run yer cubs to earth at last," said a gruff voice. "They're thar easy enough, 'cause I can see a fire an' smell smoke."

"Yes," assented Black Bill, "they're thar, an' we'll jest go down an' fetch 'em out."

"Mebbe it aint them at all," said another of the outlaws. "P'raps it's Dick Lewis and Bob Kelly."

"No, I reckon it aint nobody but the boys," replied Black Bill. "Haint we follered their trail all the way, an' did we see any signs of Dick and Bob? Say, you, Adam, an' you other feller!" he shouted, "we've got you, an' you can jest give up without any fussin' or foolin'. Hear me, don't you?"

Adam did hear him. He thought he could have heard that stentorian voice very distinctly if he had been half a mile distant; but he did not make any reply. He was well satisfied of one thing, and that was that Black Bill, boldly as he spoke, was in no hurry to enter the cave. The latter could not forget that the boys had possession of his rifle and ammunition; and, from what he had seen of them, he did not think it likely that they would hesitate to use the weapon in an emergency. This view of the case was confirmed by the next words the outlaw uttered.