Argosy and Railroad Man's Magazine — page 116: what you’re looking at

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

a te 458 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE. Paul de Cardac lay upon the ground near his horse, wondering why the sun should be jumping about so. His tongue was parched and, although he had drunk more than half of his flask of whisky, and all of the stalel water contained in the skin which he had found tied to his saddle, his thirst remained unabated. He attempted to get up, but sank back, aching in every joint. “T think I’m going to be sick,” he mut- tered, and wondered what he should do. Then his head began to spin as though it were entirely separate from his body. It seemed as if it were whirling in a giddy manner about his feet. He groaned and, seeking for his whisky-flask, put it to his lips and was about to drink. A movement of his horse caused him to turn his head. In his half-delirious condi- tion the horse appeared to be a fabulous creature with wings and a hot, fiery breath. This monster drew nearer and nearer to him, and he felt as though it was already devouring him. The flask fell from ‘his burning hands, and with a ery he sank back unconscious. He lay im this condition, moaning and talking by turns, all that night, and early the next morning was discovered by a party of Comanche Indians, who were returning from a successful attack upon the covered wagon which had been bound for Baxter. The savages advanced in a wild humor; they were overjoyed with their recent plun- der, and the addition of two scalps, now worn at the belt of their old chief, Broken- Big-Tee, rendered them ferociously proud. At the head of the Comanches rode Hail- stones, and she was about to allow her braves to despatch this new victim when Jude dashed forward and interceded. He had recognized De Cardac, and whereas he. bore the creole no good-will, he realized that Paul might be of infinite sérvice to him in his future attempts upon Frederick Pope. After some altercation Jude was permit- ted to put De Cardac’s limp body across the saddle of the sick man’s own horse, and to proceed with the unconscious suf- ferer to the place,where the Comanches were temporarily camped. Now began a long period of desperate e / ilmess for Paul de Cardac, who hung be- tween life and death for many days, always watched over and cared for by the mu- latto. Several times the’ restless Coman- ches moved their camp, but Jude remained in a small shelter which he had built and where Paul lay tossing about-in agony. Sometimes Jude would surprise himself with the tenderness and care which he be- stowed upon the fever-stricken patient. Time passed; the disease reached its crisis. Jude was ceaseless in his attention; the crisis passed; Paul still Hved. They depended largely upon the Coman- ' ches, of whose band Jude was considered a member, to keep them supplied with neces- sities. The provisions given them were, of course, the worst things possible for the sick man, but he had an iron constitution, and slowly, in spite of everything, began to mend. a Weeks had gone by, they had found a more protecting shelter, and there winter came upon them. De Cardac continued slowly to improve, but he was still far from well. _ The Comanches were off on one of their frequent raids, and had not been near them for ten days. Jude sat talking with De Cardac, who, although too weak to do much for himself, was beginning to plan. “We'll have to be doing something mighty soon,” the mulatto declared. “You mean food supply is low?” “Yes,” Jude responded. The sick man made a wry face. _ “You might kill me,” Paul began, “though I suppose I’d make bad eating.” At first Jude made no reply to this pleas- antry, then he said: “When you git strong you will go with me for him?” This was the first time that their com- mon enemy had ever been spoken of, and in reply the white man extended his thin, shaky hand. Instantly it was grasped by the mulatto. e two understood each other. Jude spoke first. “You want ker,” he slowly announced. “And his life,” Paul added. “ His life?” the mulatto echoed ques- tioningly. comicbooks-com