California Joe, the Mysterious Plainsman | Page 2

bridleless, and stood with head erect gazing
upon the party.
This much all of the young immigrants saw.
But who was this strange being and his ghost-like horse?
One remembered to have heard their guide tell the story how a phantom
horse and rider had been seen by old hunters and trappers in that forest
of late months, and none knew aught of him.
All then recalled the story and felt that they beheld the same mysterious
being.
The guide had died a few days before, and been buried by the roadside,
and the train was continuing its way upon the indistinct memory of one
of the wagoners who had before been over the trail, rather than delay
for weeks until another plainsman could be found to lead them.
They therefore could not ask the guide, upon their return to camp, to
describe again the Phantom of the Forest, which he and others had seen;
but that this must be the horse and rider that had won such fame, there
could be no doubt in the minds of the young emigrants.
The guide had said, they remembered, that he allowed no one to
approach near him, and this they would now solve the truth of.
After a moment of hesitation, passed in low, earnest conversation, they
decided to hail the seeming Phantom.

"Ho, stranger!" called out one of the number.
But no reply came, and neither horse or rider moved.
"Stranger, who are you?"
Again was the call unanswered.
"Ho, stranger, we are lost; our train is on the prairie, under the red bank
cliff, and we would thank you to show us back to camp."
One of the arms of the mysterious horseman was raised and beckoned
to them as though to follow, and the white horse turned and walked
slowly away, though no reply came from the rider.
"Come, boys, let us follow him," cried one, and taking their game they
did.
Arriving at the spot where they had just beheld the seeming Phantom
standing, they halted suddenly.
And no wonder, for they stood in the midst of a dozen graves.
The grass had not yet covered them, which proved they had not long
held their occupants, and no head-boards marked them.
But a well-worn path led from the spot sacred to the dead up the
hillside.
But this path was not the one the mysterious horseman had taken, as he
had turned short off down the hillside.
As he saw the party of emigrants halt among the graves, he again
beckoned them on, and once more they followed him, silent and
wondering.
Slowly the shadows deepened around them, and night came on; but as
though to still allow them to keep him in sight, the silent horseman
dropped back until the white steed could be seen winding his way

through the timber.
At last he halted, and allowed them to approach almost up to him, and
then the white horse bounded away and disappeared in the gloom.
They called to him, yet no answer came back, and soon the fall of the
hoof-strokes were no longer heard.
Reaching the spot where they had last seen him, a cry broke from the
lips of all, for there, right below them, they beheld the cheerful
glimmer of their camp-fires He had guided them truly, and five minutes
after they were in camp, telling over and over again the strange story of
the Forest Phantom.
*Even if the real name of California Joe is unknown, some saying that
it was Joseph Milmer, others that it was Joseph Hawkins.
A few assert that he was a distant relative of Daniel Boone. Of where
he was born, his parents and early boyhood life, he never spoke and he
died leaving all a mystery behind him.--THE AUTHOR

CHAPTER II.
THE UNSEEN GUIDE.
WHEN the dawn broke upon the camp, the emigrants were somewhat
startled to discover a stick in front of the center fire, sticking up in the
ground, and with a piece of paper fastened to it.
The captain of the train read what was written thereon aloud, and it was
as follows: "WARNING: "If this train is bound for Sunset Settlement it
is on the wrong trail.
"If they do not fear to trust the one who writes his, let them follow the
wrong trail."

This was all, but it set the entire train of emigrants to thinking.
They had little confidence in their amateur guide, for the simple reason
he had less in himself, and had only guaranteed to go the way he
thought was right.
Now he said that he might be wrong, and he advised the captain to
follow the staked trail.
But who was their unknown informer?
He had passed the guards, that was evident, and had entered the