Old Shadow Shot — page 22: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

29 | . ~not quick enough for the bolt of death which leaped from a rifle overhead. a The report startled the ranger ; he lowered his own rifle, and looked up, blank astonish- ment depicted on his countenance. The Indian lay on the big boulder lifeless. “Flints and triggers!” ejaculated the ranger. ‘“ Who fired thet shot? It warn't the boy, fur he hasn't had time to get up thar. It’s uncommon strange; but it has stopped the demons in the cut. No! they’re comin’ ag’in !” Another rock shot over the boulder and splashed irito the water, and several figures sprang into the moonlight. Shadow-Shot raised his rifle again; but that mysterious marksman overhead fore- stalled him in the work of death, and another Vulture—this time a white man—staggered - against the rocks to die! Astounded more than ever, the ranger cast his eyes upwards, but saw nothing but a puff of smoke, white and wavy, against the deep blue. “Here! you fiends, if you don’t go back to your horses, thar’ll not be one of you left to report !” came a voice from the position of the slayer. “By the etarnal! I'll drop another in less than a minnit, just to show you how it’s done.” The Vultures started back with eyes star- jng at the rocks overhead, and faces blanched with fear. “ Aren’t you goin’ ?” came the same rough voice, after a minute of waiting. “I'll give you a minnit to make yourselves scarce in. Not that I want to kill ye partic’larly, but I don’t like to handle a weepon that hits all the time.” There was a grim sense of humour in the unseen man which made Shadow-Shot smile, and he wondered anew who the marksman was. That last threat, coupled to the grace of one brief minute, had the desired effect ; the Vultures retreated into the cut, but halted there. “Go up!” cried the unseen.. ‘When I say leave, I mean fur ye to git out of the reach of this gun, an’ it carries a bullet an on- common way. I kin shoot clean up the cut. Bless me if I can’t shoot right around a tree with this old weepon. Git out! my birds !” Up the cut scrambled the discomfited and enraged Vultures. The most bewildered man was our friend Shadow-Shot. The voice of the slayer was totally strange to him. It was the voice of a man uncouth and unlearned like himself, the kind of an ally for whom he had often wished, His heart went out to the unknown, and before the Vultures had regained their advyersaries.. But, as Sha (G OLD SHADOW-SHOT. horses, his gaunt figure was pushing its way up the rocks to the spot whence the voice had emanated. Waiting for him, for Shadow-Shot’s pro- gress was made known by noises which it occasioned, a man was crouched between two ragged rocks, There was nothing in the strangers appearance that might be start- ling. He was a heavy-set man with piercing grey eyes deeply set in his head, and an open face covered by a reddish beard of a fort- night’s growth. His garments were good and totally unlike the half-savage garb that covered Shadow-Shot’s lank figure. All at once he poked his head over the stones and fixed his gaze on the ranger, who stopped with an ejaculation of surprise. “TI heerd you comin’, stranger,” the dead- shot said, thrusting a hand over his breast- work. “Bless me! if you ain’t the man what guv us warnin’ several nights ago. Put her thar! Thar ’re two Vultures down yonder. How many did you kill in the woods?” “Three, I think.” “Three an’ two ar’ five, an’ the feller what my bullet ran ag’in’ not long since makes a good half-dozen. Say! I kind o’ like ye: that’s me, Jack Gustin, one of Captain | Rough’s men.” Shadow-Shet took the proffered hand and sheok it warmly. “You kin shoot like lightnin’,” he said, looking into Gustin’s eyes. : “TTYarnt the art in Hlinoy. Used to pick wild-cats an’ wolverines at night in jest sech places as this. Say, stranger, it’s all up with the beys.” There was emotion and sadness in the rough voice. “What boys?” “The train boys! Them Vultures followed an’ butchered all. Not a waggon will ever roll along the rocks of Lake Superior. I hey jest come from the scene of massacre. The boys ar’ all thar but Cap’n Rough.” 5 “He is with the Vultures!” said Shadow- Shot. “Jined ’em? Water will seek its level. The scamp has found his sphere at last. But whar’s the boy?” “Oh, the boy—and the gal!” cried the ranger, suddenly recollecting the youthful couple whom he had dismissed for a while a short time before. “Flints an’ triggers! if I warn’t furgetiin’ °em. Come, Jack! we'll go to the leetle ones, an’ try to get ’em out of these parts.” The two men left the spot and made*their way below. As. all sounds of the Vultures had died away it was evident that they had departed satisied with the blood shed’ by their naw rae re COA ICGLe)Co)o) f im ace 26 )