Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 1115 — page 11: what you’re looking at

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

._—_——— ee ‘; face. ST ee got rid of, and locking his legs about the ani- mal’s body and his arms about its neck, he roared out: ** Whoa; here! you tam Dutch sheeps, what fur you shumps dose way mit me, hey?’ Whoa, I say! or py shim’ny krout, I gits off and mauls exas mit you, you infernal sbackass, you!” ‘Hold on, sour-krout!” yelled Old Bill Proc- for, indulging in an outburst of laughter at the ludicrous performance of man and pony; ‘* lean t’other way, Luke, she’s tilting up behind.” ‘‘Dunderation and lightnin’! go to pigatory mit yer tam big ole mouth, grapewine, or you | ‘shust as well—whoa, here, you dog-goshed sheeps, what fur you shumps like a stool, eh?— who—”’ 4 As the last word fell from his lips the bronco reared upon its hind feet and Luke rolled to the ground like a Jog, while the pony, kicking up its heels, galloped away over the plain. After a hearty laugh at Luke’s discomfiture, several of the rangers attempted to catch the bronco, but the animal was swift of foot and one of those cunning, sagacious critters that defied every attempt to recapture it. It would not leave the party, but kept off just far enough to insure its own chances of liberty. There was, really, but one fleeter animal in the party, and that was the one ridden by Tiger Tom, and after it had been fully demonstrated that the animal must be caught by running it down, Tom said: ; ‘** ll lasso the cunning thing.” Tom Brayton was an expert mustanger. There were few, if any, on the great southern anos that excelled him in throwing the noose, Even now he carried a lasso—he always carried one—at the side of his saddle-bow, and as he spoke, he unfastened the rope and gathered it up in-his hand ready for action. But just as he was about riding away toward the bronco, Old Bill came riding from the front at a goodly pace, and reining up before the young ranger, said: ‘* Folks, we’ve got to look close, for thar’s scads of fresh hoss-tracks before us, and the fust thing we know a pack o’ outlaws will bu’st out o’ this fog onto us like demons out o’ dark- ness!” This startling news seemed to paralyze every heart, and for a moment fear blanched every Involuntarily all eyes turned toward Tiger Tom. ‘To him they looked as their leader. t once the young ranger divided his men into two parties, which were formed into par- allel lines, with Jacquetta and Irene riding be- tween. Old Bill and Luke were sent on in advance as scouts. A ranger was left behind to guard the rear against rise, and in this manner they pushed on through the dismal fog. They had gone perhaps a mile, when suddenly there came a burst of firearms from the fog on the right, as though fifty rifles mingled their reports in one volley. Bullets whistled above the heads of our friends, and two of the rangers sustained slight wounds. In an instant Tiger Tom had formed his men ready for # conflict—expecting a charge from the unknown foe. ' But to their surprise no one appeared, and not knowing the strength of the fog-ambushed enemy, the rangers would not run the risk of .a charge since they had those two fair girls se upon them. The situation, however, had become extremel dangerous. The fog seemed to thicken, whic Ens the pursuers an advantage over the pur- sued, ** Do you think it were Indians that fired upon us, Tom?’ Mr, Walden asked, as they continued _ their journey. ‘No; itis Black Ramardo’s band following us,” replied Tom. ‘‘I feel confident that Long Lance would not break his word with us, and there can be no other Indians within a hundred miles of here.” ‘Think you that Ramardo’s band is strong in numbers as we are, Tom?” “They may not have any more men, but they have a decided advantage over us, We have got tv act on the defensive in order to protect those girls, while the outlaws can harass us all the while by sudden dashes. The fog then is in their favor, and against us, but with Old Bill Proctor and Dutch Luke on the alert, we may be able to avert any serious trouble,” The air was so dull and heavy that sounds conld not be heard at any great distance, and at simes the fog rolled in black clouds across the }iaia, thickening almost into spray There had not been a breath of air all that. morning, but as the cay advanced a gentle breeze finally drifted across the plain from the south, stirring the fog into low, Lying clouds, : ae, 4 “Tf the wind will rise,” said Tiger Tom, ‘‘ this impenetrable gloom may be dispelled. And this prediction all thought was likely to soon come true, for as the wind continued to blow the fog began to rise, and the range of vision to extend over the plain. And with the gloom of the weather the gloom that over- shadowed the spirits of all began to depart, and their hopes were running high, when suddenly Old Bill Proctor reined in his horse, and point- ing off to the right, exclaimed: ** Look there!” Every eye turned quickly in the direction in- | dicated, and to their horror beheid at least three score horsemen drawn up in line on the plain as if ready foracharge. They were not over half a mile away. ‘*By heavens! they are Indians!” exclaimed Walden, turning to Tiger Tom. ‘That shows the honor of Long Lance!” cried Old Bill. ‘* Yaw! he one tam nice old rhooster,” added Luke, *‘and I vish now I pounds der moun- tains plack and plue mit his ole carcass, I do, py shim’ny krout!” ‘* Well, friends,” said Tom, “‘ if that chief has deceived us it is the first case of the kind I ever met where Indian gratitude was turned into bloody treachery. They are Indians I'll admit, but what do the mean? Can it be possible that they are. after Ramardo?—covering our re- treat?” ‘*Plue plazes and purgatory, Tiger Tom! do yon thinks such dings be probable even if possi- le?’ asked Old Luke. i I do, Luke,” replied the ranger emphati- cally. ‘‘Den der millinium’s comin’ and I want to die mit my poots off.” ‘‘Hold on, ole sour-mash,” put in Bill Proctor; ‘‘ l’m thinkin’ you’ll have a chance to die with yer boots on yit afore you git out of this, you bloody ole Dutchman,” The Indians were barely discernible and in a few moments they were concealed trom view altogether by the wind falling and the fog set~ tling back darker and denser than ever over the lain. : “My God! what is to become of us?” ex- claimed Mr. Walden in a tone of disparage- ment, ‘‘ Keep up courage and fight your way through,” replied Tiger Tom, ** has ever been the slogan of the Texan Terror, and we have never been in a acKape yet but what we were able to get out with flying colors, and with God’s help we’ll get out of this difficulty.” A halt was made though no one dismounted, They had hoped the fog would soon rise again and enable them to more clearly define the situation. But their hopes were all in vain. The gloom continued to thicken around them, though far up overhead it seemed to be grow- ing hghter. ‘‘ Just as well that it all comes down,” said Tom; ‘for you can see there’s light above. If the sun gets out once then away goes the fog and gloom.” ‘* Pully!” exclaimed Luke, ‘‘ for when it gits light ole Pilly Proctor and { will scharge over dose prairie like mad pulls in der mountain and skeer effery tam Inshin clear into der hill mit ter tuyvil—Oh, see! py sholly! see dose plack cloud-bank!” He pointed westward where through the gray fog all could see a long cloud-bank black as midnight lying low against the western sky. ‘‘That’s not a cloud—it’s a ridge, you ole blind Dutchman,” exclaimed Bill Proctor. So indistinct did the dark line showing through the gloom appear that Tiger Tom was not really certain whether it was a ridge or cloud: bank, but while watching it a dim shad- owy form of giant proportions, and resembling a horseman, was seen to rise up out of the dark line and float along the surface like a patch of detached cloud, ‘‘ That’s a hossman!” cried Old Bill. *‘ It?s too large for a horseman, Bill,” replied Walden. ‘* Tt’s simply a floating cloud that has assumed the shape and form of aman and horse,” ob- served a ranger; ‘“‘who of you, when boys, hav’n’t lain and seen in the seuddin’ clouds mba of horsemen go plunging through the SKY shimminy krout, boys!” interrupted Old Luke, “it’s a phantom horseman!—lookee! der goes a whole squadron ob dem.” True enough, up out of the cloud or ridge, whichever it was, suddenly rose two score more of those dim, shadowy forms. They were drift- ing southward and had all the appearance of Titan horseman—‘‘ demons in the gloaming.” eee ee ee ee eee ee eee ee ee ee eee eee ee ee ee eee ee ee A ee oe 11 — Superstition is as natural to the plainsman as it isto the seaman, [tf will come upon them— no difference what their education may have been—through associations, The rangers looked upon the floating figures with silent awe, but not so with their leader, Tiger Tom. He was convinced that those forms would materialize into a band of outlaws or Indians, ‘*That, boys,” he argued, ‘tis nob a cloud we see there, but a long, low ridge which the con- dition of the atmosphere at this time appears to elevate into a mountain ridge, The same at- inospheric condition magnifies those horsemen into unnatural and grotesque giants. The fog is now lying low upon theearth and in the valleys, while above us it is light. The top of that ridge is above the fog, and we see it and those objects through the vail of mist—henee the delusion. ‘Dot sounds all verry goot, Tom,” replied Old Luke, *‘ but I hopes dot you are mistooken, and them are demons after them tam Inshuns and outlaws, so I do, py sbimminy krout!” ‘‘Ha! there goes other horsemen to meet them—see!” exclaimed Mr. Walden. ‘¢‘ Hark!’ commanded Old Bill, ‘I thought I heard a sound like the far-off yell of demons,” ‘* Ay! and look! by heavens, those shadowy forms have met in combat!” cried a ranger. True enough, the two parties of horsemen had met on the ridge and seemed engaged in a dead- ly combat. Our friends could see them rushin to and fro, dashing bere and there, swing alo their arms, bow and posture and reel and sway on their animals in an excited and violent man- ner. And presently they saw riderless horses flying up and duwn the ridge and phinging into the derkness below. Still no sounds could be heard, but, like figures in a panorama, the phan- tom combatants continued their struggle, until at length the ridge seemed to sink in the sea of fog, and with its shadowy forms disappear like the visions of a horrible dream, ** Mein Gott!” cried Old Luke, ‘* who says now dot they war not phantoms}—dot dose war not acloud what rise up out of de tark River of Death? Py shimminy, boys, it makes mine hair sthand a leetle oop,” “To me it seems arather mysterious perform- ance, and as equally a mysterious disappear- ance,” said Walden, | ‘lo me all seems clear enough,” said Tiger Tom, ‘The disappearance of the ridge and those combatants 1s easily accounted for. You see the fog is Sa my ine Instead of the rid sinking down the fog has risen and concealed it from view. Doesn’t that seem reasonable?” “Well, I must admit it does,” replied the prairie merchant, ‘‘and if your theory of the whole thin $4 correct, why, it beats a mirage all out of tine.” ‘Yaw, I sMould a@mark dot it doz peat a mar- riage all to pieces oop, py sbhimminy krout!~— more fightin’ in dot spectacle than in half a dozen marriages.” The rangers indulged in a hearty laugh at the old hunter’s ludicrous mistake, By this time all was shrouded in fog again, and the party concluded to resume their Salter ney, and had but just got under way when a riderless horse came flying out of the fog from the west at a wild, break-neck speed. In its headlong flight it dashed right into the micst of the rangersand before it could get clear of its entanglement it was surrounded and caught. Asaddleand bri le were upon it. The former was covered with blood, ‘‘That’s an outlaw’s horse—I know it by the mountings,” declared Tom Brayton; ‘“ and friends, that battle of phantoms that we all witnessed a few minutes ago resolves itself—in my mind, at least—into a battle between Black Ramardo and the Comanches under» Long Larce.” ‘To you really think so, Tom?’ asked Walden in surprise, ‘‘T feel sure of it, and from this time on shall fear nothing of the Indians. If Ramardo is after us, Long Lance is after Ramardo,” ‘But suppose the Ingins got walloped over yonder?” said Old Bill Proctor. ‘Well, while it is true that we don’t, know the result of the battle, we can only hope for the best. Evenif Ramardo was victorious it was at a cost of life that will make him slow about pitching into us, so we might as well be moving.” | The cavalcade moved on, Tiger Tom now riding some distance in advance with Old Bill Proctor and Lew Clark, a young ranger noted as a trailer. The fog still hung thick and heavy over the lain, ¥ Not a sound save the.‘‘swish” of the horseg' feet in the grass could be heard, com