Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 105 — page 18: what you’re looking at

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

18 was getting too warm to be pleasant. If he did not get out of the village, he would certainly be taken, and yet he could hardly bring himself to leave. A huge tree stood at his right hand. The hunter slung his rifle across his shoul- der and began the ascent. A few seconds { position, was being carried out. Old Rube, the Hunter. saw at once that his front was not pressed by the larger force, and detaching a score of the best men, he led them out to the left, toward which the fire was slowly tending. found him comfortably ensconced among — the leaves, peering down upon the vil- lage. It was nearly midnight, and the attack promised by the rattlesnake-skin must come soon—and it did. All at once, like a crash of thunder from a clear sky, broke a fear- ful yell from the plain around the village. Rifle-shots began to patter among the leaves, and the position of the hunter became pre- carious. ‘True, they did not see him; but Indians are, proverbially, bad shots, and one of their careless bullets might knock him off his perch. Not liking the idea, he came down a little distance, and placed the body of the tree between himself and the shots. The yells from both parties became deaf- ening, and the missiles of all kinds fell thick and fast. Very little damage was done, however, and the Hawk, by the advice of Charlie, refused to go far from the village, while the night continued, and so give the attacking party an opportunity of getting him in ambush. They did something else, too, of which the savages themselves would never have dreamed, and which the attack- ing party found to their cost, when, incited by Meton, they made a desperate charge upon the village. It is seldom that Indians make a deter- mined attack of this kind; and when they do, it is generally successful. But, in this case, they found their way impeded by felled trees, with the sharpened branches pointing outward in inextricable confusion. They charged up to the abatis, and then a withering ise was poured upon them, while they floundered among the network of limbs. : Many fell; but they struggled bravely; and it was only when they saw that the task was hopeless, and the voice of Meton recalled them, that they retreated, fighting as they went. Vain was the effort of Charlie to restrain the Hawk’s warriors. They rushed over the obstructions, hatchets and knives in hand, and pursued the flying foe. Of course Meton turned upon them when he gained the woods, and they were. pressed back in turn, losing nearly as many as their assailants had before them. The Hawk, who had: remained at Charlie’s side, rated them soundly when they returned, crest- fallen, from the unsuccessful charge. Meton had seen Charlie fighting in the foremost rank. Twice he had his eye upon him, and made him the mark of his rifle, and as many times had some good genius turned aside the ball. His anger was still hot against him; and Charlie, who thought that Ida was a prisoner in his hands, bated him with a perfect hatred. Once more the party of Meton, still as strong as the party of the Hawk, gathered for the attack. A busy crowd of skirmish- ers came threateningly on, and kept the de- fenders busy, while a new programme, nothing less than turning the flank of the i | Here he ordered his men to lie down, and waited confidently the result. It came at last. With a wild yell, forty of the bravest of the foe rushed down upon the spot where the men of Charlielay. At a whisper, the rifles were lifted, and every one picked his man and poured in his fire. They came in a solid body, and every bul- let did its office. Half the party seemed to sink into the earth; but, with a vengeful yell, the rest pushed on. Charlie, placing his finger on his lips, blew a ringing peal. It was the signal agreed upon for more men; but there was no time to wait for them, so, drawing their knives, the enemies met hand to hand. Meton rushed upon Charlie “Dog of a white man,” he shouted, “vou die!” “Hound!” cried Charlie, “I am your enemy.” Their knives clashed sharply together. Charlie had his own good blade, which he wore when he hunted the deer upon his native hills, and it seemed like a sword in his hand. In the dim light they fought, each one striving for the other’s life. The combat raged around them, and, in a backward rush of his men, Charlie was separated from his enemy. The forty had proved too many for him, and bis men were slowly giving back, smiting the foe at every step, when the reénforcement sent by the Hawk joined them, and they in turn at- tacked the enemy, who retreated, bearing Meton in their midst. The attack was & fgilure. Meton was a determined and desperate man; he could not give up now, if he would. His backwoods education had taught him never to yield while there was the slightest possibility of success, and he did not yet despair. Besides, hate, revenge, every evil passion, spurred him on. He must conquer or die. The night passed slowly. Desultory fir- ing was kept up during the darkness; but, as morning came, the hunter saw there was no chance of doing any thing for Charlie, and he left his tree and stole noiselessly out of the camp. He got out without trouble, and at once made his way to the mountain. He saw that the men in the village could attend to the case of Meton, and he wished to assure himself of the safety of his friends. He entered the cave on the outside, and he could hear their voices. He called, and could hear the rattle of their arms as they | sprung up, eager for the conflict, if it were necessary to fight for her. When they knew his voice, the rifles were dropped, and they called upon him to descend. He slid Charlie “Thet he was no longer a_ prisoner. Wal, Idid. But he hes j’ined the Crows in the village in ther job of whippin’ Meton’s Crows out of it; an’ all I kin say is, he is doing it up like a first-rate war rior.” “What do you think they will do next ?” she asked, after the hunter had given a de. tailed account of the battle, and its results. “Wal, ef I look at it rightly, in the morn- in’, thet is, in "bout two hours, at the furthest, those fellers in the village will pitch inter ther ones out ov it, an’ whip them all to _pieces. An’ ther way I look at it, boys, we hed better be on hand, and help thet side.” down the rock and stood before them. She | sprung toward him, with only one word | upon her lips. “ Charlie ?” “He is well, and no longer a prisoner.” “ Where is he?” “In the village.” “J thought you said—” “ All of us?” asked Dolf. “ Wal, no, I don’t want to leave Miss Ida alone, tho’ she’d be as safe har’ as a baby in its cradle.” “T don’t want anybody to stay with me,’ she said, in a spirited tone. “I am not afraid.” Dolf was eager for the fight, and this de- cision on the part of Ida pleased him vastly. He laughed. “ T warrant Miss Ida could outride any of us now in a fair race upon the plains, I move we don’t coop her up in this hole, but give her arms, and let her ride out to a place we shall appoint, stay there a certain time, and then,if we do not come, make the best of her way to the fort.” The hunter shook his head. “ No, no, boy. This place is safe enough, an’ the best place. Ef you don’t want to leave her alone, you stay with her,” Dolf looked doleful at the idea. “There, there,” laughed Ida. “I won't have any of you. Go along, every one, and leave me to take care of myself. You need not have the least fear but I shall do it well. What is that ?” The hunter had taken something from under his hunting-shirt. “ Your rifle,” he said. She seized it eagerly. get it ?” “In your lodge.” “Thank you. And you have all the ac- couterments. How kind of you.” They passed an hour in the caye, and then the three went out together, leaving her alone. They passed down the slope of the hill, just as the gray dawn was breaking in the east, and the sun’s first rays gilded the lofty peaks. They went to the spot where they had left their horses, and found them safe. Mounting, they rode round to the west,so as to come up well inthe rear of Meton’ s band, who were still pressing the unlucky siege when the morning came. Such a morning as only in the West can be seen. A thousand mingled perfumes came from the surrounding prairies, and the grace- ful deer, in the distance, came down to the river bank to drink. The hunter took off his hat, and let the fresh breeze play among his black, crisp locks. “ Sich times as these yer,” he said, “ mek’ me wonder how men kin live—and I hears thet such men do livein the towns—as say ther’ ain’t no one as made all these things, ’Tain’t likely, no, that these things shu’d grow themselves. They didn’t do it, and what’s more, they cu’dn’t. Yer can’t find “Where did you Gon | OOKS:GOmM