The Forest Monster; or, Lamora, the Maid of the Canon. Edward Sylvester Ellis
man named Fred Hammond, who had joined it more for the purpose of adventure than any thing else. He was mounted on a magnificent black horse, was an amateur hunter, and a general favorite with the company.
Among the latter was not a single experienced mountaineer or prairie-man. They had secured the service of an old man, who professed to be thoroughly acquainted with the overland route to Oregon, but there was more than one who suspected his knowledge and believed he was nothing but a fraud.
Extremely good fortune had attended them thus far. They had caught sight of numerous parties of Indians, and indeed scarcely a day passed without something being seen of them. They had exchanged shots at quite a distance, but no harm had befallen the whites, and they had penetrated thus far on their way to distant Oregon.
But Hammond and one or two of the members were filled with misgiving. Through the day they had seen evidence of an immense Indian party being in their vicinity, and they feared the worst. It was with pain that they saw the huge camp-fire kindled, and Hammond called his comrade, Beers, to one side, and said, in his earnest voice:
“I tell you, things look darker than ever before.”
“So I think.”
“I believe we are followed by over a thousand Indians, and they intend attacking us to-night.”
“What shall we do?”
“God only knows; I don’t like that camp-fire.”
“Let it burn for a short time; they don’t need it long, and then it can be allowed to die out.”
“But it will betray our position.”
“Do you suppose there is any means possible by which we can conceal it?”
“Not entirely, but partly.”
As the night deepened it became of intense darkness. There was no moon, and the sky was entirely overcast with clouds, so that there was scarcely any light at all. The few flakes of snow that were whirling through the air had entirely ceased, but the wind still whistled through the grove.
“There is a moon up there,” said Hammond, “and if the clouds break away at all, we shall have enough light to guide us on our way.”
On account of the danger, which all knew threatened them, a number proposed that as soon as their animals had had sufficient rest, they should move out of the timber and continue their journey; but this was finally overruled, as they were not only likely to go astray in the darkness, but the Indians could easily find them, from the unavoidable noise made by their wagons.
If attacked on the open prairie at night, they were entirely at the mercy of their assailants, who could easily encircle and tomahawk and shoot them all, while in the grove they could make a fight with some prospect of success.
So it was prudently determined to remain where they were.
In the course of an hour, when there was no imperative necessity for a fire, it was allowed to slumber and finally die out. The wagons were placed in a rude circle, with the animals within, while the women and children, and such men as were relieved from duty, sought their quarters for the night, and soon silence rested upon all.
A double guard was set. Ten men were scattered around the outer edge of the globe at regular distances from each other, on the alert for the first indications of danger.
Beers and Hammond stood next to each other, and the former finally left his station and took his position beside the latter.
“What’s the use?” he muttered, by way of apology. “When it’s so dark that you can’t see any thing, where’s the good of straining your eyes? As we have got to depend on our sense of hearing, we’ll help each other.”
The air was so sharp and keen that they had great difficulty in keeping themselves comfortable. They dare not stamp their feet or swing their arms, and such movements as they made, were made with a stealth and caution that nearly robbed them of all their virtue.
At the end of an hour the sky gave some signs of clearing. It was somewhat lighter overhead, but still the earth below was little benefited thereby. There was scarcely any variations in the wind, although several fancied that it had somewhat decreased.
Another hour passed drearily away, and then Beers suddenly laid his hand on the arm of Hammond.
“What is it?”
“Hark!”
Borne to them on the wind came the distant but distinct sound of a horse’s feet, as he galloped over the hard prairie.
The rapid clamp of the hoofs were heard for an instant, and then the varying wind swept the sound away from their ears, and all was still.
But in a moment they rallied out again with startling distinctness—then grew fainter—died away and rung out once more.
“Some one is riding fast,” said Beers.
“And he is coming this way,” added Hammond.
A few minutes convinced them of the truth. A single horseman was riding at great speed over the prairie, and was manifestly aiming straight for the grove where the emigrants had halted for the night.
As a matter of course, all the sentinels had observed it by this time, and there was great excitement among them. They gathered about Hammond to receive his directions.
“Go back to your stations,” said he. “Keep your eyes and ears open for others, whether they be mounted or afoot, and I will attend to this one.”
His orders were obeyed, for he was looked upon as having authority in this matter, and with an interest difficult to understand they awaited the coming of the horseman.
As the latter came nearer, he seemed to be heading straight for the point where Hammond and Beers were standing.
During the last few moments, the sky had cleared so rapidly that objects could be distinguished for quite a distance, and the two men strained their eyes through the gloom to catch sight of the stranger.
“There he is,” whispered Hammond, as the dim outlines of a horse was discovered through the darkness.
The horseman had reined his horse down to a walk, and was advancing quite cautiously. He continued onward until within a dozen feet of the two men, when he reined up.
“Who comes there?” asked Hammond.
“A friend.”
“What do you seek?”
“You are in great danger, and I have come to warn you of it.”
“Good heavens!” exclaimed Beers, in an undertone; “that is a woman!”
Hammond had noticed the wondrously soft and musical voice, and he now walked forward, so as to stand beside the horse. The dim light showed that Beers spoke the truth; it was a woman seated upon the horse.
“May I ask your name?”
There was a moment’s hesitation, and then the female answered:
“I am Lamora; and I speak the truth.”
“We do not doubt it,” responded the amazed Hammond. “What is it you have to say?”
“A thousand Blackfeet warriors are coming down on this grove, two or three hours before sunrise, and if you remain, there will not be one who will escape alive.”
“What shall we do?”
“Make ready as soon as possible and start westward. Let there not be a moment’s delay, and you will be saved.”
“But they can follow us to-morrow, (if not to-night,) and attack us by daylight.”
“They can, but they will not,” replied Lamora, with the greatest earnestness. “This is a great war-party on their