California Joe, the Mysterious Plainsman | Page 9

him he had a master in this
youth. Then Joe took something from a pouch and besmeared his face
with it, and next pat upon his head the feather bonnet of one of the dead
Indians, and about his shoulders a blanket. "We'll go now, pony," he
said, at the same time throwing himself upon the back of the other
mustang. Leaving his own horse lying flat down in the long prairie
grass, and the mustang hoppled, Joe rode on directly toward the
emigrant camp, the fires of which were burning brightly, not two miles
distant. After riding considerably nearer, he halted and waited. With the
same patience that would have been shown by an Indian, Joe sat upon
the mustang watching and waiting. Suddenly he saw forms pass
between him and the light of the fires, and he knew that Bad Blood and
his warriors were preparing for the attack. Slowly he drew nearer and
he saw that the warriors had dismounted, and, as he had felt assured,
were approaching the camp on foot. Then Joe turned to the right-about
and went rapidly back to where he had left his horse and, the hoppled
mustang. Quickly he got them both up, and hiding the white animal
under robes and blankets, he mounted him and rode toward the camp
once more. Passing the spot where he had before halted, he continued
on until he could near the snorting and stamping of the red-skins'
mustangs, and again he stopped and staked out the three horses. At a
run on foot he approached the herd, and gained their midst without
attracting the attention of any of the guards, who were little dreaming
of danger from that point, and were taken up wholly in watching and
waiting for the attack of their comrades, which was to bring them
scalps and plunder. From horse to horse Joe glided, his sharp knife
severing the lariat near their necks, and in a few moments' time he had
set free the lot, excepting the few near the guards, who, five in number,
were grouped together waiting to hear the sound of conflict begin. The
Indians had left their horses over a mile from the camp, so that no
neigh or sound should alarm the guards, and this distance they had to

go on foot, and moving with the greatest caution, it gave Joe nearly an
hour in which to perfect his little game. At last the ringing war-cry, for
the charge upon the emigrant camp, broke on the air, and immediately
after came the terrific yells of the red fiends as they rushed upon what
they supposed were their victims. Then, like a deer, Joe ran back
toward his horses, threw the robes and blankets off of his own animal,
and leading the two mustangs by long lariats, dashed toward the ponies
of the red-skins. Firing his pistol, yelling, and at fully speed he charged
the herd and at once, as he had forseen began a wild stampede. The
guards in vain tried to check their flight, and over them the frightened
animals dashed, driven straight toward the camp. As he neared it, by
the flaming up of the fire, Joe saw that the red-skins had been badly
hurt, and were flying too, and he increased the racket behind the
charging mustangs. Not, for an instant believing that their own animals
were stampeded, and fearing that they were charging soldiery, the
red-skins fled from their ponies at first, until too late they discovered
their mistake. And on by the camp rushed the frightened ponies, held at
their speed by Joe, to disappear in the darkness beyond, though the
thunder of their hoofs was long heard by the emigrants in the camp, and
the enraged and skulking Indians, as they fell back on foot toward their
own village, too utterly demoralized for their savage chief to bring
them again to the attack.

CHAPTER VII.
JOE STRIKES A BARGAIN.
THE sentinel at Fort ---- was considerably surprised the next morning,
after the attack an the emigrant train, while waiting to be relieved from
duty, to see, what he at first supposed, was a regiment of cavalry
coming toward him. A closer look however showed him that though the
equine portion of a regiment was there the bipeds were wanting. In
other words the horses were riderless. At a slow, weary trot they came
on over a distant roll of the prairie, nearly, two hundred in number, and
they, were heading directly for the fort. The sentinel sung out for the

corporal of the guard, and made his report and that worthy reported to
the sergeant, and so on to the officer of the day, which sent the news
flying through the fortress that: "A drove of wild horses was coming."