Arming himself thoroughly, and declining Gerald Conrad’s offer to accompany him, the young pioneer set off, at first keeping only a short distance ahead, but gradually drawing away from the train, until, when the noonday halt was made, he was nowhere visible upon the prairie.
As if fully acquainted with the country, he put his horse at a rapid gallop, and continued on for miles, until a higher roll in the prairie gave him a view of the river through the green trees of a prairie island.
Toward this point he directed his course until he found himself upon a peninsula, made by the river making a grand curve.
On this point of land, entirely surrounded by water, excepting where it touched the open prairie, had been the home of Alfred Carter.
A more delightful place could not have been chosen for a settlement; for the point, or the peninsula, contained fully five thousand acres of land, of the richest kind of soil.
Scattered over it were large timber mottes, the river bounded it upon three sides, while to the eastward stretched the unbroken prairie for miles, to serve as a luxuriant pasture for stock.
As Howard Lawrence rode along the trail leading toward the humble cabin home upon the river bank, his brow wore a troubled look, and he glanced nervously around him.
Nearer and nearer he drew toward the cabin; but no lazy wreath of blue smoke curled up above the treetops, and all seemed strangely desolate around him.
Presently a dark form glided from the foliage bordering the trail, and stood directly in his path.