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SQL Cookbook 1st Edition Anthony Molinaro download

The document provides a comprehensive overview of the 'SQL Cookbook' by Anthony Molinaro, detailing its contents, including various SQL techniques and operations. It includes links to download the book and other related SQL resources. The book covers topics such as retrieving records, sorting query results, working with multiple tables, and performing data manipulation.

Uploaded by

smoksivori
Copyright
© © All Rights Reserved
Available Formats
Download as PDF, TXT or read online on Scribd
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SQL Cookbook 1st Edition Anthony Molinaro Digital
Instant Download
Author(s): Anthony Molinaro
ISBN(s): 9780596009762, 0596009763
Edition: 1
File Details: PDF, 5.81 MB
Year: 2005
Language: english
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SQL Cookbook

Anthony Molinaro

Beijing • Cambridge • Farnham • Köln • Sebastopol • Tokyo


SQL Cookbook™
by Anthony Molinaro

Copyright © 2006 O’Reilly Media, Inc. All rights reserved.


Printed in the United States of America.

Published by O’Reilly Media, Inc., 1005 Gravenstein Highway North, Sebastopol, CA 95472.

O’Reilly books may be purchased for educational, business, or sales promotional use. Online editions
are also available for most titles (safari.oreilly.com). For more information, contact our corporate/insti-
tutional sales department: (800) 998-9938 or corporate@oreilly.com.

Editor: Jonathan Gennick


Production Editor: Darren Kelly
Production Services: nSight, Inc.
Cover Designer: Karen Montgomery
Interior Designer: David Futato

Printing History:
December 2005: First Edition.

Nutshell Handbook, the Nutshell Handbook logo, and the O’Reilly logo are registered trademarks of
O’Reilly Media, Inc. The Cookbook series designations, SQL Cookbook, the image of an Agamid lizard,
and related trade dress are trademarks of O’Reilly Media, Inc.

Many of the designations used by manufacturers and sellers to distinguish their products are claimed as
trademarks. Where those designations appear in this book, and O’Reilly Media, Inc. was aware of a
trademark claim, the designations have been printed in caps or initial caps.

While every precaution has been taken in the preparation of this book, the publisher and author assume
no responsibility for errors or omissions, or for damages resulting from the use of the information
contained herein.

ISBN: 978-0-596-00976-2
[LSI] [2012-12-14]
To my mom:
You’re the best! Thank you for everything.
Table of Contents

Preface . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xiii

1. Retrieving Records . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1
1.1 Retrieving All Rows and Columns from a Table 1
1.2 Retrieving a Subset of Rows from a Table 2
1.3 Finding Rows That Satisfy Multiple Conditions 2
1.4 Retrieving a Subset of Columns from a Table 3
1.5 Providing Meaningful Names for Columns 3
1.6 Referencing an Aliased Column in the WHERE Clause 4
1.7 Concatenating Column Values 5
1.8 Using Conditional Logic in a SELECT Statement 7
1.9 Limiting the Number of Rows Returned 8
1.10 Returning n Random Records from a Table 9
1.11 Finding Null Values 11
1.12 Transforming Nulls into Real Values 11
1.13 Searching for Patterns 12

2. Sorting Query Results . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 14


2.1 Returning Query Results in a Specified Order 14
2.2 Sorting by Multiple Fields 15
2.3 Sorting by Substrings 16
2.4 Sorting Mixed Alphanumeric Data 17
2.5 Dealing with Nulls When Sorting 20
2.6 Sorting on a Data Dependent Key 26

vii
3. Working with Multiple Tables . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 28
3.1 Stacking One Rowset Atop Another 28
3.2 Combining Related Rows 30
3.3 Finding Rows in Common Between Two Tables 31
3.4 Retrieving Values from One Table That Do Not Exist in Another 33
3.5 Retrieving Rows from One Table That Do Not Correspond
to Rows in Another 38
3.6 Adding Joins to a Query Without Interfering with Other Joins 40
3.7 Determining Whether Two Tables Have the Same Data 42
3.8 Identifying and Avoiding Cartesian Products 49
3.9 Performing Joins When Using Aggregates 50
3.10 Performing Outer Joins When Using Aggregates 55
3.11 Returning Missing Data from Multiple Tables 58
3.12 Using NULLs in Operations and Comparisons 62

4. Inserting, Updating, Deleting . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 63


4.1 Inserting a New Record 64
4.2 Inserting Default Values 64
4.3 Overriding a Default Value with NULL 66
4.4 Copying Rows from One Table into Another 66
4.5 Copying a Table Definition 67
4.6 Inserting into Multiple Tables at Once 68
4.7 Blocking Inserts to Certain Columns 70
4.8 Modifying Records in a Table 71
4.9 Updating When Corresponding Rows Exist 72
4.10 Updating with Values from Another Table 73
4.11 Merging Records 77
4.12 Deleting All Records from a Table 78
4.13 Deleting Specific Records 79
4.14 Deleting a Single Record 79
4.15 Deleting Referential Integrity Violations 80
4.16 Deleting Duplicate Records 80
4.17 Deleting Records Referenced from Another Table 82

5. Metadata Queries . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 84
5.1 Listing Tables in a Schema 84
5.2 Listing a Table’s Columns 85
5.3 Listing Indexed Columns for a Table 86
5.4 Listing Constraints on a Table 88

viii | Table of Contents


5.5 Listing Foreign Keys Without Corresponding Indexes 89
5.6 Using SQL to Generate SQL 93
5.7 Describing the Data Dictionary Views in an Oracle Database 95

6. Working with Strings . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 97


6.1 Walking a String 97
6.2 Embedding Quotes Within String Literals 100
6.3 Counting the Occurrences of a Character in a String 101
6.4 Removing Unwanted Characters from a String 102
6.5 Separating Numeric and Character Data 103
6.6 Determining Whether a String Is Alphanumeric 107
6.7 Extracting Initials from a Name 112
6.8 Ordering by Parts of a String 116
6.9 Ordering by a Number in a String 117
6.10 Creating a Delimited List from Table Rows 123
6.11 Converting Delimited Data into a Multi-Valued IN-List 129
6.12 Alphabetizing a String 135
6.13 Identifying Strings That Can Be Treated As Numbers 141
6.14 Extracting the nth Delimited Substring 147
6.15 Parsing an IP Address 154

7. Working with Numbers . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 157


7.1 Computing an Average 157
7.2 Finding the Min/Max Value in a Column 159
7.3 Summing the Values in a Column 161
7.4 Counting Rows in a Table 162
7.5 Counting Values in a Column 165
7.6 Generating a Running Total 165
7.7 Generating a Running Product 168
7.8 Calculating a Running Difference 171
7.9 Calculating a Mode 172
7.10 Calculating a Median 175
7.11 Determining the Percentage of a Total 179
7.12 Aggregating Nullable Columns 182
7.13 Computing Averages Without High and Low Values 183
7.14 Converting Alphanumeric Strings into Numbers 185
7.15 Changing Values in a Running Total 187

Table of Contents | ix
8. Date Arithmetic . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 190
8.1 Adding and Subtracting Days, Months, and Years 190
8.2 Determining the Number of Days Between Two Dates 193
8.3 Determining the Number of Business Days Between Two Dates 195
8.4 Determining the Number of Months or Years Between Two Dates 200
8.5 Determining the Number of Seconds, Minutes, or Hours
Between Two Dates 202
8.6 Counting the Occurrences of Weekdays in a Year 204
8.7 Determining the Date Difference Between the Current Record
and the Next Record 216

9. Date Manipulation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 222


9.1 Determining If a Year Is a Leap Year 222
9.2 Determining the Number of Days in a Year 229
9.3 Extracting Units of Time from a Date 232
9.4 Determining the First and Last Day of a Month 235
9.5 Determining All Dates for a Particular Weekday Throughout a Year 237
9.6 Determining the Date of the First and Last Occurrence
of a Specific Weekday in a Month 244
9.7 Creating a Calendar 251
9.8 Listing Quarter Start and End Dates for the Year 270
9.9 Determining Quarter Start and End Dates for a Given Quarter 275
9.10 Filling in Missing Dates 282
9.11 Searching on Specific Units of Time 291
9.12 Comparing Records Using Specific Parts of a Date 292
9.13 Identifying Overlapping Date Ranges 295

10. Working with Ranges . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 301


10.1 Locating a Range of Consecutive Values 301
10.2 Finding Differences Between Rows in the Same Group or Partition 306
10.3 Locating the Beginning and End of a Range of Consecutive Values 315
10.4 Filling in Missing Values in a Range of Values 320
10.5 Generating Consecutive Numeric Values 324

11. Advanced Searching . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 328


11.1 Paginating Through a Result Set 328
11.2 Skipping n Rows from a Table 331
11.3 Incorporating OR Logic When Using Outer Joins 334
11.4 Determining Which Rows Are Reciprocals 337
11.5 Selecting the Top n Records 338

x | Table of Contents
11.6 Finding Records with the Highest and Lowest Values 340
11.7 Investigating Future Rows 342
11.8 Shifting Row Values 345
11.9 Ranking Results 348
11.10 Suppressing Duplicates 350
11.11 Finding Knight Values 352
11.12 Generating Simple Forecasts 359

12. Reporting and Warehousing . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 368


12.1 Pivoting a Result Set into One Row 368
12.2 Pivoting a Result Set into Multiple Rows 370
12.3 Reverse Pivoting a Result Set 378
12.4 Reverse Pivoting a Result Set into One Column 380
12.5 Suppressing Repeating Values from a Result Set 383
12.6 Pivoting a Result Set to Facilitate Inter-Row Calculations 387
12.7 Creating Buckets of Data, of a Fixed Size 388
12.8 Creating a Predefined Number of Buckets 392
12.9 Creating Horizontal Histograms 397
12.10 Creating Vertical Histograms 399
12.11 Returning Non-GROUP BY Columns 403
12.12 Calculating Simple Subtotals 408
12.13 Calculating Subtotals for All Possible Expression Combinations 412
12.14 Identifying Rows That Are Not Subtotals 421
12.15 Using Case Expressions to Flag Rows 423
12.16 Creating a Sparse Matrix 425
12.17 Grouping Rows by Units of Time 426
12.18 Performing Aggregations over Different Groups/Partitions
Simultaneously 430
12.19 Performing Aggregations over a Moving Range of Values 432
12.20 Pivoting a Result Set with Subtotals 439

13. Hierarchical Queries . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 444


13.1 Expressing a Parent-Child Relationship 445
13.2 Expressing a Child-Parent-Grandparent Relationship 448
13.3 Creating a Hierarchical View of a Table 454
13.4 Finding All Child Rows for a Given Parent Row 462
13.5 Determining Which Rows Are Leaf, Branch, or Root Nodes 466

Table of Contents | xi
14. Odds ‘n’ Ends . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 474
14.1 Creating Cross-Tab Reports Using SQL Server’s PIVOT Operator 474
14.2 Unpivoting a Cross-Tab Report Using SQL Server’s UNPIVOT
Operator 476
14.3 Transposing a Result Set Using Oracle’s MODEL Clause 478
14.4 Extracting Elements of a String from Unfixed Locations 482
14.5 Finding the Number of Days in a Year (an Alternate Solution
for Oracle) 485
14.6 Searching for Mixed Alphanumeric Strings 486
14.7 Converting Whole Numbers to Binary Using Oracle 489
14.8 Pivoting a Ranked Result Set 492
14.9 Adding a Column Header into a Double Pivoted Result Set 496
14.10 Converting a Scalar Subquery to a Composite Subquery in Oracle 507
14.11 Parsing Serialized Data into Rows 509
14.12 Calculating Percent Relative to Total 513
14.13 Creating CSV Output from Oracle 515
14.14 Finding Text Not Matching a Pattern (Oracle) 520
14.15 Transforming Data with an Inline View 523
14.16 Testing for Existence of a Value Within a Group 524

A. Window Function Refresher . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 529

B. Rozenshtein Revisited . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 555

Index . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 591

xii | Table of Contents


Preface

SQL is the language in the database world. If you’re developing for or reporting
from relational databases, your ability to put data into a database and then get it
back out again ultimately comes down to your knowledge of SQL. Yet many practi-
tioners use SQL in a perfunctory manner, and are unaware of the power at their dis-
posal. This book aims to change all that, by opening your eyes to what SQL can
really do for you.
The book you’re holding in your hands is a cookbook. It’s a collection of common
SQL problems and their solutions that I hope you’ll find helpful in your day-to-day
work. Recipes are categorized into chapters of related topics. When faced with a new
SQL problem that you haven’t solved before, find the chapter that best seems to
apply, skim through the recipe titles, and hopefully you will find a solution, or at
least inspiration for a solution.
More than 150 recipes are available in this 600-plus page book, and I’ve only
scratched the surface of what can be done using SQL. The number of different SQL
solutions available for solving our daily programming problems is eclipsed only by
the number of problems we need to solve. You won’t find all possible problems cov-
ered in this book. Indeed, such coverage would be impossible. You will, however,
find many common problems and their solutions. And in those solutions lie tech-
niques that you’ll learn how to expand upon and apply to other, new problems that I
never thought to cover.

My publisher and I are constantly on the lookout for new, cookbook-


worthy SQL recipes. If you come across a good or clever SQL solution
to a problem, consider sharing it; consider sending it in for inclusion
in the next edition of this book. See “Comments and Questions” for
our contact information.

xiii

This is the Title of the Book, eMatter Edition


Copyright © 2012 O’Reilly & Associates, Inc. All rights reserved.
Random documents with unrelated
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go to sleep, fur there’s plenty o’ time to-morrow to tend to all our
talkin’ and sich like.”
Used as he was to the hardships of trapper life, to Jake, there was
no need of a bed of down to bring sleep. In a few moments he was
cosily ensconced in the arms of Morpheus, and the watchful ear of
Charles Archer could hear the long-drawn breath which announced
his condition.
Gradually the blackness of the surrounding night changed to a
leaden grey. Mistily thoughts swarmed through his brain. Then came
a blank—Archer, too, was asleep.
Even yet was his dream haunted by a golden-haired girl, who
struggled in the arms of a heavily-bearded refugee and countless
Indians. The fight at the crossing was to be refought, the hand-to-
hand struggle with the renegade, the sudden retreat, the dark
intricacies of Free Trappers’ Pass, and the hurtling rifle bullet—all
once more appeared ere, with the breaking morn, he arose from his
hard couch on the level rock.
With keen eye he studied the windings of the path which he had
followed to reach this resting-place; and anxiously he gazed around
to make himself acquainted with the topographical intricacies of his
retreat. As he was looking down upon the scenery below, Parsons,
who had wakened, remarked:
“It’s a queer country this, ain’t it, now?”
“Yes, Jacob, it is a queer-looking country. This is, in one sense, a
safe retreat, also. It would require a more than ordinary set of men
to dislodge us by force of arms; but I am afraid it would not take
long to starve us out—indeed, as far as I can see, that would be the
only plan that could prove successful.”
“Don’t you be too sure of that. There’s a quicker way than that, if
it ain’t a better one. This wall”—patting with his hand the rocky side
of the recess—“looks amazin’ thick an’ stout, but six or eight good
men could have her down in short order.”
Seeing the surprise of Archer, Parsons explained as follows:
“You needn’t stare so, it’s true. If you look sharp, you’ll see this
rock’s limestun—right about here you’ll find lots of it.”
Sunlight suddenly stole over the face of Waving Plume, and the
joy of his soul beamed out through his keen grey eyes.
“So near,” he exclaimed, “nothing save a few inches of rock to
separate us—she must and shall be saved! Quick, tell me your plans,
that we may at once begin the work, for delays are dangerous!”
To this rather excited speech of Archer’s, Parsons coolly
responded:
“Don’t be in too great a splutter, young man. There’s things to be
thought on afore we commence to go in. We had better scout
around an’ see how the country looks, an’ then lay our plans
accordin’.”
Charles assenting, the two together began the descent of the path
which served as a stair-case to this high eyrie.
Preferring to leave the difficult duties of scouting to one most
thoroughly versed in its mysteries, Waving Plume sought out a
comfortable resting-place on which he might seat himself, while
Parsons disappeared in the direction of the mouth of the basin, or
cul-de-sac, in which they were encamped.
Time passed on. At least two hours had elapsed, and yet the
trapper did not return.
At length, tired of inactivity, and restless from a mind burdened by
so great a duty as the rescue of the fair “Mist on the Mountain,” he
debated with himself whether he should follow in the footsteps of
Jake, and seek the plain, or return to the niche wherein he had
passed the night.
Reflecting that in the one case he would be needlessly thrusting
himself into danger, and at the same time drawing no nearer to
Adele—while in the other he would be closer to the maiden, even if
there was no possible means of access to her, he chose to retrace
his step.
Out of breath, he reached the spot, and flung himself down much
in the same manner as he had done on the night before. Suddenly,
behind his head he felt a slight vibration of the rock, and could hear
a tapping sound as though someone were, with their knuckles,
trying its strength or thickness. With a bound, Waving Plume was on
his feet. Circumstanced, as he was, he could not, at once, think
what course it was best for him to pursue.
Following the bent of the first impulse which struck him, he drew
from his belt the large hunting-knife which he there carried. For a
moment he surveyed the seemingly solid wall before him, gave a
glance at the edge of his weapon, and then resolutely attacked the
only known barrier which lay between him and Adele.
As Waving Plume progressed with his labour, he began to realize
how very thin the partition actually was. At a heavy pressure of his
hand he could feel it spring inwards, and he marked well the
progress that he had made. One more vigorous application of the
knife, the point sank into the rock and disappeared. His work, for the
time, was almost done.
A hole as big as the palm of his hand testified to the vigour of his
proceedings. Anxiously gazing through this, he could see the
apartment beyond. A small lamp cast an uncertain light, and almost
directly before the aperture a dim shadow loomed up. The shadow
was that of a woman.
“Adele!”
In a low, but audible whisper the word floated into the room.
Bending down her head, she replied:
“Who is it that speaks?”
“A friend—one who would rescue you—Charles Archer.”
“Thank Heaven!”
This, much more in the shape of a fervent prayer than of a reply;
then, to Waving Plume:
“If you can aid me, be quick!”
When the three had reached the valley, and were in some manner
bidden by the foliage of the trees, a momentary halt was called, and
a short consultation was held.
Environed by difficulties, with two companions depending upon his
inventive genius for escape from a most unpleasant position, no light
breaking upon the dark road which seemed to stretch out before
him, Parsons did all but despair. Think as he might, no good would
come of it, and so, after some minutes, he said:
“Well, Charley, it ain’t no use. We can’t git out.”
A groan was the only response, so he continued:
“But that ain’t no reason why we can’t stay in. They say, ‘what
ain’t hid’s best hid,’ an’ we’ll try it. There’s plenty of room to lay by
here, an’ ef we can only throw ’em off the scent a leetle, it may
work. Jist come along now.”
Diving right into the thick underbrush, Parsons led the way, until
they came to the side of the basin which they were in. Here, in a
clump of evergreens, he placed them, and then began to retrace his
footsteps, first charging them not to move until they heard from
him.
As he returned to the spring, he effaced, as much as possible, the
marks of the passage of himself and friend.
Stepping lightly into the open space at the spring, he looked
carefully around. Nothing unusual met his eye, nor did any
suspicious sound fall upon his ear.
“Strange, ther’ ain’t no sound from ’em yit,” was his muttered
cogitation. “Tom Rutter must hev got most cussedly careless since
he got among the Blackfeet, or he’d hev missed the girl afore this. It
ain’t so likely neither; but there’ll be something’ up soon.”
While thinking thus, Jacob was adjusting the saddle of his steed.
With a bound he had vaulted into his seat, but scarcely had he
settled there, when, from the rocks above him, in the direction of
Free Trappers’ Cave, came a wild yell.
Drawing in a long breath, he gave vent to an answering cry, so
loud and clear, as even to astonish himself. A moment, horse and
rider stood motionless, then, with a renewed cheer, he dashed boldly
and at full speed toward the mouth of the basin and the plain.
CHAPTER VI.
CAPTURE OF JAKE PARSONS.

The yell which had come to the ears of Jake Parsons, was
sounded from the lips of Tom Rutter.
“Quick! Follow them! Don’t stand here idle. Your lives depend on
it.”
Such were the exclamations which Rutter gave vent to; and the
man by his side gradually dispensed with the sneer on his face, as
he began to understand fully how matters were.
To turn around, to leave the apartment, to call upon the two men
who were in the other room, to mount their steeds and descend into
the pass, all this was the work of but a few moments.
When, at length, they burst out upon the plain, the first sight that
met their eye was a band of some twenty Blackfeet. It was that part
of Tom Rutter’s party which had not been at the fray of the great
crossing. The sudden appearance of the four would have
immediately attracted their attention, had it not been otherwise
engaged.
Parsons had made somewhat of a mistake in his calculations. It
had been his intention to keep close to the mountains, and make a
trail running southward. If he could do this, and at the same time
keep out of sight of Tom Rutter and the free trappers, he might
make them believe that Adele was with him, and by drawing off their
attention and forces in this direction, Waving Plume and the Major’s
daughter might possibly have a chance to escape. The nature of the
place was favourable to the plan, and, had it not been for the
Indians, it might have been successful.
Unfortunately they were half a mile closer than he expected them
to be, and as he rode out through the narrow, rocky, bush-sheltered
passage, he fell, as it were, right into their hands. With a loud
whoop, he clapped heels to his horse’s side, and endeavoured to
dodge past them, but in vain. One of those nearest to him, and who
was armed with a rifle, drew sight on the luckless trapper. Without
waiting to ascertain whether the fleeing man was friend or foe, he
pulled the trigger and fired.
Though the ball missed its intended mark, nevertheless it took
fatal effect upon the horse which Jake bestrode, and, with one
prodigious leap, its vital energies were expended. Though it fell so
suddenly, its rider was not to be caught unprepared. Leaping nimbly
aside, he avoided being crushed, and with steady aim covered the
Indian who had fired the shot. He, knowing his almost certain fate,
attempted to throw himself behind his horse, but his motion was not
quick enough. A sharp crack, a whistling bullet, and the steed was
avenged. To turn and rush toward the cover of the woods was his
next move, and, with a score of red-skins, and the four whites to
spur him on, he made the tallest kind of running.
A perfect storm of bullets and arrows was launched at him, but
still was he unharmed. A number of the Blackfeet dismounted, and
closed in upon him; but the hardy white disdained to yield.
Drawing his heavy rifle over his shoulder, he anticipated their
attack by leaping upon them. For a few moments there was a lively
time among the party, but numbers and resolution were too much
for resolution alone, and Jake was finally borne to the ground. Even
then he did not, at once, give in, but made most frantic efforts to
draw his knife. At length, after a most desperate fight, he was
bound, though not without the assistance of Big Dick and Tom
Rutter.
“Thar, darn yer ornary picturs, you’ve got me; but ye had a good
time adoin’ it. See what yer’ll make of me, ye low-lived, red-skinned
devils!”
To this exclamation of Parsons, which showed that his mind was
not under control, if his body was, no immediate attention was paid,
Tom Rutter, all panting with his exertions, exclaiming:
“Whar is the gal—ye?”
CHAPTER VII.
PARSONS AND ARCHER IN THE BLACKFOOT
VILLAGE.

It was evening. In the centre of the Blackfoot village were two


men well known to the reader—Parsons and his friend, Charles
Archer. Without the lodge, could be heard the cat-like pace of a
sentinel. At a few rods distance a long wigwam, the council-chamber
of the Charred Stick section of the tribe, was located, and now and
then a wild shriek, pealed forth by some brave, would reach the ears
of the prisoners. Within, nothing was to be heard save the measured
breathing of the two; both were sleeping.
The face of Waving Plume was very pale. From under a tight
bandage upon his forehead, drops of blood, now clotted, had
escaped; the hair on the front part of his head was matted together,
and the appearance of the man gave evidence that he had not
become a captive without a determined fight.
Loud and clear sounded the death-wail for fallen braves. Though
successful in their foray upon the Crows, yet had the expedition,
taken as a whole, resulted disastrously to the tribe. At least a dozen
braves had fallen, and Talmkah, one of their bravest and boldest
chiefs, dangerously, if not mortally wounded, in the abduction of
Major Robison and his daughter. Thus, in the band of warriors that
night gathered around the council-fire, there were deep mutterings,
ominous frowns, sharp, blood-red speeches, and actions which told
as loud as words, that the fate of the prisoners would be one both
sudden and bloody.
The two slept on. Days of toil and nights of waking had so far
exhausted them, that, even with the prospect of soon-approaching
death, impending over them, they would calmly woo “tired nature’s
sweet restorer,” and quietly and unbrokenly slumber, while bound,
and prisoners in the Blackfoot town. They had slumbered perhaps an
hour or so, when the entrance of three men into the hut aroused
them. Two were Indians, but, by the light of the torch which one of
them carried, to them, suddenly awakening, the third seemed to be
a white man. Then, as the fumes of sleep rolled off, Charles Archer
recognized one whom, of all others, he less wished to meet—
Robison himself.
The Major, a weary, soul-depressed look upon his face, looked
around, finally suffering his eye to rest for some seconds upon his
fellow-prisoners before recognizing them. Then, as the Indians
retired, leaving the three to themselves, he found tongue,
addressing them with:
“So we once more meet. For once I am more pained than
delighted at seeing a familiar face.”
“I can most heartily say the same,” was Archer’s response.
“Though the explanation of the fact of my being a prisoner here is
most easy, I can hardly imagine how you came to fall into the hands
of the Blackfeet again, once having been rescued, as I know, by our
band of trappers. It can hardly be possible that they, along with you,
are sharing the pains of captivity.”
“As far as my knowledge extends, they are in perfect safety. I find
myself here as much through my own foolishness as through any
other reason; yet, knowing, as I do, that I must have been
imprudent, I can scarce give a sufficient account as to the means by
which I was captured. Excitement, fatigue, grief, darkness and delay
must have driven me partially out of my senses, so that I fell into
the hands of the very men who were lurking along our trail.”
“It is strange,” said Waving Plume, “how misfortune seems to dog
our every step. Not a move can we make, however fair it may, at the
inception, appear, but we are plunged deeper into the mine of
difficulties. You, the very embodiment of all caution, just at the
critical time, losing presence of mind, seems to be sufficient cause to
think that the fates are against us.”
And Parsons, too, had a word to say:
“By mighty, Major, things hes a villainy look. I’m expectin’ nothin’
’cept the hull darned caboodle on us’ll jist be packed in here afore
mornin’, an’ tomorrer they’ll make a bonfire out o’ some seven or
eight most cussedly interestin’ subjects, of our weight an’ thickness.
What the deuce are we goin’ to do?”
“We must hope for the best, knowing that while there is life there
is hope. I have very little fears, for the present, for Hawkins and the
rest of the boys, though I deeply regret that circumstances should
have occurred to draw them toward so much danger. They are well-
chosen men, with years of experience, and, though game to the
back bone, there will be a method about their perseverance which
will, as far as possible, preserve them from needless exposure to
danger.”
CHAPTER VIII.
WAVING PLUME AT LIBERTY.

The night wore on. The sighing winds crept slowly around the
wigwam, or sorrowfully wailed up the streets of the Blackfoot village.
The dim, ghostly circle around the moon deepened into blackness;
dim clouds grew in size, looming forebodingly, and a chill, damp
feeling filled the air. Without the wigwam, which served as a prison
for Major Robison and his friends, three dusky warrior sentinels
stalked, their arms well secured under the folds of their close
wrapped blankets. Silence came, like cotton-down, upon the
surrounding village, and all was quiet.
From within came no sound indicative of aught of life; but by the
light of the low-burned, smouldering brand, three persons held a
whispered conversation. It was Waving Plume who first spoke out,
and asked his companions to make, at least, one more desperate
attempt to escape. It was Waving Plume who first spoke of what all
three had before been thinking.
“Time hurries on, Major, and the hour of midnight must be well
past. To remain here is certain death, and that, too, without having
the consolation of knowing that thereby we are in the least
benefitting your daughter. Darkness, without, appears to be thick,
and guards slacking in their vigilance—what say you, then, to a
desperate try for life and liberty?”
“No need to ask me that question, Archer. I have that to nerve me
for the struggle which may come; and much of all one loves, hangs
trembling in the balance. Here are we, with unbound hands, our
lives, and the lives of our friends at stake—the chance of success, to
one of us, at least, tolerable—why then should we delay. Let us
hasten to leave.”
The step of the sentinels without had ceased. A low murmur of
conversation came in from the corner opposite to the door. The men
without had seen Jake Parsons and Archer most thoroughly bound,
and they had not the slightest suspicion but what Major Robison was
in the same predicament. A thought of bad faith from Tom Rutter
never crossed their minds. With such subjects as might beguile their
savage minds, they kept up their conversation, leaving the tight
binding withes which had entwined the wrists of their captives, and
the chance of fortune to take care of the prisoners. Thus, in silence,
and with lips somewhat quivering, and hearts almost silenced in
their beating, the three stole out, all unarmed, save the heavy
hunting-knife which Waving Plume carried in his bosom.
Robison and Parsons crept along side by side; but Charles Archer
followed some half dozen paces in the rear, covering the retreat, and
occupying, as he thought, the post of danger.
A faint sound of pattering feet, following close behind, saluted the
ear of Waving Plume, so that, with knife drawn, and in a crouching
position, he awaited the nearer approach of the object. It proved to
be something which is but rarely met with—a really courageous
Indian dog. With only a single bark, with only a low, deep growl, he
sprang straight at the neck of Archer.
He, however, on his guard, threw up his left arm to ward off the
attack, at the same time striking a powerful blow at the side of the
animal. It proved a fatal one, for, with a sound, the mere repetition
of his growl, he fell lifeless to the ground; while our hero,
withdrawing his steel, turned to follow in the track of his still
advancing friends. They, not perceiving that he had stopped, silently
continued their journey, leaving their rear guard to stand with his
reeking knife firmly clasped in his hand, perplexedly listening in the
endeavour to guess the direction taken by his companions.
In five minutes Archer had extricated himself from the village, had
traversed a distance of a hundred yards due west, and had then,
with a Westerner’s instincts, turned and struck a course almost due
south. To the south were friends: to the south help, freedom. But, if
to the south lay safety, so, to the south lay danger. Outlying pickets
returning bands of warriors, a tangled path—these, and darkness
were before him. But death howled behind him, and forward,
forward through the night, he pressed.
Hastening on, his teeth firm set, his eyes straining to pierce the
darkness, his hand tightly clenching his hunting-knife, there came
suddenly to his ears the sound of a rapidly approaching horseman.
Not far distant was he, either, and though the danger of halting was
almost commensurate with that of proceeding, still he thought it
best to halt, and, if possible, escape the notice of the coming foe.
For not one moment could he suppose that any but a foe might ride
so recklessly in such close proximity to the Indian town.
Halting, then, he threw himself at full length upon the ground,
hoping that good fortune and the darkness of the night might once
again befriend him. At three yards distance he was invisible; it would
be a keen-scented man, indeed, who might detect his presence.
The steed came nearer, the soft ground and tangled prairie grass,
deadening the sounds of his approach.
Onward, and still onward the red-man swept.
Suddenly, from the very ground at his feet, arose a form, shadowy
and spectral, reaching one arm toward the head of his steed, the
other brandished back. Startled, his self-possession most sternly
attacked, almost stunned by this ghostly apparition, his hand bore
hard on the leathern thong of his bridle, and a twitch of the wrist,
tried to turn the horse to one side. But, though the nerves of the
rider were steel, not so with the animal he bestrode; and, though
coming to a halt so suddenly as to be thrown back upon its
haunches, farther than that he refused to do. So, as the hand of the
warrior felt for the ready tomahawk, the phantom form gave a
bound forward, the next moment, with a sweeping, hissing sound,
the knife of Archer went hilt-home to the heart of the red-man.
Possessed, then, of steed and fire-arm, with foes behind and
friends before, careless—reckless—of pursuers and pickets,
straightforward through the gloom, dashed the escaped prisoner.
Somewhat tired was the steed, but the clouds rifted, the wailing
winds sighed more softly, the moon again beamed out bright; and as
hours sped on, and were thrown backward by the flying hoofs, the
bright auroras tinged the eastern clouds, and John Howell, from his
look-out by the foot of a thickly wooded hill, keeping sharp guard
while his companions slept, caught glimpse of a strange figure,
mounted on a foam flecked and weary steed, bearing down full and
hard upon him. So, too, with Antonio, the half-breed, who, with the
Crows following in his footsteps, had pushed on, and had, on the
previous day, overtaken the trappers. He and Howell, together
watching, descried the unknown figure, and, at first were somewhat
ruffled in their minds, but at length, with a joyous clap of the hand
upon his thigh, Howell shouted:
“Waving Plume, by mighty!”
CHAPTER IX.
ATTACK ON THE BLACKFOOT VILLAGE—
RESCUE OF THE PRISONERS.

Somewhat cleared was the weather, and morning dawned with a


great red flame in the east.
Waving Plume, had, after a few minutes of rest, asked the other
trappers their opinion as to what had best be done. There followed,
then, somewhat of a difference of opinion; some being for
immediate action, some for a night attack, while one or two others
thought it would be best to approach to the very outskirts of the
town, during that night, and then, when day had fairly dawned, to
rush in. These being so much in the minority, with that stubbornness
so common to mankind, held their opinions so stoutly, that they won
over to their side, first one and then another of their opposers, until,
of the white men, Waving Plume was the only man apparently
unconvinced.
But to him, there arose some strange fear; and doubting whether
his comrades were not making a mistake, he proposed that Antonio,
who had hitherto held his peace with most masterly reticence,
should give his views on the subject. The half-breed accordingly
expressed his opinions.
Some shook their heads thoughtfully, some considered long, yet,
finally all admitted the force of Antonio’s argument, and as their
hasty morning meal was eaten, and the sun well up, it appeared, if
they intend to go on at all, that it was time to start.
With caution, they skirted the hills, keeping well in the shade of
the friendly cotton-wood, for the most part following the course of a
little stream of water, which, almost dry a week ago, was now nearly
a river, in silence the little army advanced.
At length, to the advanced guard, Antonio, Biting Fox, and a Crow
brave, the wished-for spot came into sight.
When the main body came up, it was halted, while the three went
forward to thoroughly reconnoiter the woods. A strong party had
been there that morning, gathering wood, and it took no prophet to
tell what that was for.
Silence reigned here now; the woods were empty—evidently all
the supplies needed had been obtained, and it was little likely that
an invading footstep from the village would then be met with during
the remainder of the day. Two of them remained to watch, while the
third, the Crow brave, was sent back to state what had been seen,
and to bring up the rest.
Once more Antonio offered to attempt an unseen approach to the
enemy, to find out their position and employment; and though now
the endeavour was one of more difficulty than when he undertook it
under cover of darkness, at the camp of the hollow log, yet, with the
same self-reliance he proceeded on his way.
Through an opening in the wigwam, he caught sight of the clear
space in front of the council-chamber. He saw, too, a crowd there—
the old and young, men, women, and children loudly shouting, while
from their prison-house was led the two white men—Major Robison
and Parsons.
Instantly all doubts were, in his mind, resolved; the time for the
sacrifice had arrived, and prompt and decisive action was necessary.
When he was once more in their midst, it did not take long for him
to explain the commotion in the village, or to give them a full
understanding of its cause.
“To horse!” shouted Waving Plume, in a whisper.
“To horse and forward. No time to lose now in idle calculation. We
have already weighed the cost of this our undertaking. There is no
one here, I take it, who could hang behind; so forward,” and, like an
arrow of death, the whole body swept on into the narrow street.
The surprise was complete; Waving Plume and his followers came
fiercely, charging home upon them.
Though in the attack the Crows under Antonio confined their
attention exclusively to the extermination of their foes, the whites,
after the first fire, were content to bend their energies more to the
effecting of that for which the expedition, by them, at least, was
more particularly undertaken—the rescue of the three prisoners.
While Antonio and his men swept on past the stake without heeding
what was there transpiring, Waving Plume and his friends there
halted.
And it was well they did so. A large Indian, the master of the
ceremonies, a great brave, and, as one might say, the chief
executioner of that section of the tribe, stood, with hatchet upraised,
just as Charles Archer rushed to the rescue. To send a pistol-ball
through his brain was the work of but an instant, then, as the great
corpse settled, with a noiseless quiver, to the ground, half a dozen
hands dashed aside the already burning faggots, and cut the tight-
binding cords which encircled the limbs of the captives.
Parsons gave a whoop as he felt the blood once more freely
circling through his veins, and the prospect of sudden and horrible
death no longer so unwinkingly staring him in the face; but the
Major grasped his son’s hand in silence, then turned with anxious
eye toward a group of women and children who were ranged in
front of the council-house.
“Adele,” said he, stretching out his hand; “is she there?”
But Waving Plume’s quick eye had already pierced to where Adele,
pale and thoughtful, sat between two squaws, and, followed by Ned
Hawkins and Howell, was, in a moment, by her side. She, throwing
herself forward, stood leaning with her arms resting upon the
pommel of his saddle; the next minute the strong arms of Archer
had lifted her into place in front of him; a moment more, and she
was in the arms of her father.
To the trappers, now that their mission had been accomplished,
but little remained to do. The present state of affairs gave little
promise of any severe fighting, and with no distinct desire for
revenge burning in their bosoms, they neither wished to engage in
nor to behold an indiscriminable slaughter, or the more disgusting
operation of scalping the dead.
Ned Hawkins now mentioned the place where they had spent the
previous night, and was agreed upon to proceed to that spot, and
there, for awhile, remain. Meanwhile, conversation in the little party
was brisk. All had something to say, and tongues ran fast, though
none ran faster than that of the hero of our story, Waving Plume.
What all he repeated in a low tone to Adele, we do not intend here
to rehearse; but that it was something interesting, from the way
smiles and blushes chased each other over her face, we do not
doubt.
CHAPTER X.
THE REALIZATION OF THE DREAM.

We have followed Major Robison and his daughter through some


of the stormy scenes in their history, and now are fast approaching
the completion of our work.
Though the story told to him by the renegade, on the night when
he was urging escape, had much of probability in it, yet, from having
had his hopes so often dashed, he feared to place too much
confidence in it, or to allow too high expectations to be raised in his
breast. For all that, he felt a lingering belief that now, perhaps, his
wishes would be realized, and a stern determination to test, to the
fullest extent, the truth of the revelation. Then, with Waving Plume
and Stevens, and the rest of the trappers, he would journey in
search of the since much quoted Pike’s Peak.
A journey of a week and they were safely at the fort; a stay of
another week, and then Robison and Archer were travelling back to
the hunting-ground of the Crows, there to meet with the remainder
of the formidable little band of voyageurs, who were to accompany
them on their exploring tour.
Days and weeks passed before Adele and her brother, in safe-
keeping at the fort, heard from the wanderers. Then, alone, with his
arm in a sling, and a deep arrow wound in his back, came Howell.
He brought good intelligence, though. The rest of the party were
safe, and in good spirits—more, they were successful.
Having brought this intelligence, and having remained a week or
so to recruit from the effects of his wounds and the fatigues of a
long journey, Howell again mounted his horse, slung on his rifle,
looked well to his canteen and provision bag, and turned westward
again, leaving Hugh and his sister to watch and hope.
Summer faded away, autumn came, and November’s winds were
fiercely humming over the plain, when the next intelligence of the
absentees was received. One evening, as the sun was dropping
behind the far-off mountains, a single horseman was seen
approaching, along the westerly trail, to the fort. Hugh and Adele, by
chance looking out, saw him coming, and both, at the same time,
recognized him. A few moments later and he was clasping their
hands, responding to their eager enquiries concerning the remainder
of the party.
Successful beyond their highest anticipations, they might be
expected on the following day.
The morrow came, and with it Major Robison and his hardy, sun-
browned, toil-worn band of attaches; and here, the family reunited,
and all the characters safe, we might take leave of the reader, with
the assurance that all the greater difficulties which had clung around
the pathway of the Major had been surmounted. He had found the
secret, and was, even now, a comparatively rich man. In fact, was
there nothing more to relate than that they journeyed eastward to
spend the winter, and transact some, to him, necessary business,
returning again in the spring, to toil through many ensuing months;
then perhaps our chronicles would here end. As it is, we shall not
linger long before writing the inevitable “finis.”
The connection between Robison and Waving Plume had been
essentially a financial one. Robison, at one time wealthy, had been
involved in ruinous losses by a financial crisis, being left, not only
broken in fortune, but heavily in debt. Impelled by various reasons,
he sought the western confines of civilization, bringing with him his
children, and a few thousands which, being settled on them, he did
not feel himself called upon to deliver up to his creditors. Engaging
in the fur trade to some extent, having intercourse with trappers,
hunters, voyageurs, and Indians, he heard much of wandering life
and wandering manners. From an old trapper, who, in a not over
sober moment, became loquacious, he gathered a few points which
determined him to drop his business and search for gold. This was,
perhaps, as much on account of his health as anything else—his
spirits, and consequently his constitution, being much broken by the
tempestuous life-storms through which he had lately passed.
Starting out with Ned Hawkins and another, a man well versed in all
western mysteries, he had roamed far and wide, hunting and
trapping, yet all the time prosecuting his search and his inquiries.
Returning to the region of the trading-posts, he there found Charles
Archer, a young man of twenty-one or two, with plenty of means, a
go-ahead disposition, and who had sought the great west for the
sake of life and adventure. Unfolding to him his plans and hopes, the
Major had induced him to enter into the formation of a small, but
selected company, and to penetrate into the regions lying along the
Rocky Mountains. It was this company whom the reader has found
introduced in these pages, and for the past three years they had
clung well together, traversing all the region thereabouts, and even
scouring the Oregon territory, and the streams that flow into the
Columbia. These three years of life had made of Archer a perfect
adventurer, while they had endeared him to all with whom he had
come in contact.

One evening Adele and Archer stood together, looking through the
dim twilight, out over the far-stretching plains. There was a smile on
her face, both bright and joyous, for Waving Plume held her hand in
his, and whispered into her ear, both low and softly:
“Yes, Adele, I have seen much of the ruder elements of life; I have
drained the cup of danger, and lived in an atmosphere of hardship;
but shall I not have my reward?”
What more he said we know not, but when her answer came, he
printed a kiss upon her ripe, red lips, and then, with his arm twined
around her waist, the two stood in the fast-fading twilight of the
deep embrasure, whispering of hope, and love, and bright days to
come.
THE END.
Printed by James Jackson, and Published by him at his Publishing Office, 2
Red Lion Court, Fleet Street, London, E.C.
Read
Boys of London
and
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