Far Past the Frontier

by James A. Braden

Fortune favored the brave lad, for presently the dim light of the smoldering camp-fire came into view. He paused a moment, then turned confidently in the direction in which he thought John and Tom Fish must be. He had not taken forty steps, however, when a dark figure loomed up suddenly before him, and with exceeding quickness and quietness glided behind a tree.

It was well indeed for Return Kingdom that his quick eye saw this movement. Turning again, he ran, but instantly the dark figure darted in pursuit. Discovering that he was in danger of being driven into the very arms of the Indians he had so recently eluded, Ree changed his tactics. Certain that but a single savage was behind him, he wheeled and ran toward the Indian at full speed.

They were not far apart. Before the Redskin had made out what the boy was doing, the latter had hurled himself upon him and thrown him to the ground.

Fiercely the savage struggled; with tremendous energy Ree retained the upper hold, his grip secure on his opponent’s throat. Neither spoke. The Indian could not, and Ree had no wish to add to the noise made by their thrashing about among the leaves and dry twigs. He knew that he could kill the savage warrior but he dreaded to do that. It would mean trouble with the Indians for a long time to come, upsetting his most cherished plans. And yet his own life was in danger, and—he dared not relax his hold.

Yet something must be done, and quickly, for soon the other Indians would be returning, and more than this he could not hold out long against the greater strength of his red antagonist. Ree resolved, therefore, to make the Indian understand that he did not wish to kill him, then let go and take his chances in a foot race.

But at this instant, the Redskin, by a mighty effort raised himself partially upon his feet, secured the release of his right arm, on which Ree’s knee had been, and clutched the boy’s throat with a vise-like grip. Never had the venturesome Connecticut lad been so near death as he was at that moment. Steadily the Indian continued to gain the upper hand, and as he tightened his grasp on Ree’s throat the boy’s tongue seemed to be forced from his mouth.

Then it was that Return Kingdom’s grim, unyielding determination which meant victory or death—a determination which, once formed, would have stopped for nothing though it swayed the earth, asserted itself. With the power of an unbending purpose, Ree raised to his feet, dragging the savage with him. He grasped the Indian’s body and with strength most extraordinary, lifted him from the ground, then suddenly he cast him violently down as though the brave were a great stone which he wished to break.

Astonished, bruised, exhausted, the Indian lay as he had fallen. The whole struggle had occupied but a minute or two, but it had been furious. Both the combatants were panting like dogs. Now was Ree’s opportunity. He stooped down, grasped the redman’s hand and shook it gently.

“We should be brothers. I would not try to kill you,” he spoke in a low, friendly way.

The Indian made no answer. Again Ree shook his hand, then picked up his rule and walked rapidly away. Looking back, he saw the savage rising to his feet and returning to the camp-fire. He was sure then that he had made a friend of an enemy. But he lost no time. There were but a few hours of darkness remaining to cover his escape while he searched for his friends, and with every sense alert he hastened on, though faint and weary from the violence of his exertions. He felt the necessity of finding and giving warning to John and Tom and the thought kept him going.