“It is twofold: The Shawnee Indians, under their chief, Evil Heart, are in a very ugly mood toward the whites, and there is a band of outlaws calling themselves Death Riders who have held up several wagon trains during the past few months, and even ventured to raid some of the settlements.”
“The Death Riders!” exclaimed the old man. “It is an ominous name.”
“And it fits them well,” returned Cody. “They show mercy to none who fall into their power. They are the worst gang of outlaws who ever cursed the West in all my experience.”
CHAPTER XVI.
THE DEATH RIDERS.
“Have you met these Death Riders?” asked Mr. Doyle, after a brief silence produced by the impressive manner in which Buffalo Bill had spoken. “Have you had any personal experience with them?”
“Yes,” replied Buffalo Bill. “As chief of scouts I have assisted more than once in efforts to hunt them down, but those efforts have not yet been successful, although in three little skirmishes we have thinned down the gang considerably. They have a great knowledge of the best hiding places in the hills, and so have been able to elude pursuit.
“They have particular hatred of me, because of my efforts to hunt them down, and they have sent me more than one message threatening my life. Only six weeks ago Wild Bill and myself were caught by seven of them in a narrow cañon, and we had a pretty close call.”
“What happened when you met them?” asked Mr. Doyle, looking at the king of the scouts curiously.