Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 1151 — page 9: what you’re looking at

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at wa. ‘those two savages wi ‘to be, are in the canoe, and no demonstration is himself to believe teat 90 @id not dis- © it when the case was self-evident. But he is ,f belicye almost anything since he has Wo kept upon our way. Upon each of the occa- sions , as near as I could judge, it was about neon the canoe made ite appearance; and as it was that thine now, we hurried forward, lest the oppor- tunity should pass. The opportunity, I say—for al- though tt had appeared but twico as yet, I somehow or other was well satisfied we should see it again. “What are you going to do?” asked Nat. “Té wilt Sénend upon what wesee, If simply the captive, as we judge her made, I think it best not to attempt a rescue. It is a supposition of ours that she is a captive, and we know not that she would thank us for interfering in ber case.” In a short time we reached the elevation already mentioned. Here we seated ourselves so as to re- main concealed from any stragglers in the vicinity while we ourselves with a little care could detect the eet af ag eer § As Istooped, my hand came contact with something cold, and wpon looking at it, I saw it covered with dark, clotted Biood, I started, and wiped it on the 3s, but it sent a shudder through me to reflect that it had once been the life-fluid of a human being. ul ’’ exclaimed Nat; “ain't that awful?” “It is disagreeable, to say the least.”’ ** Just look at the blood on the grass, too, and all around. I believe Bill must have hit a half-dozen » Bure,’ <> —~ S cr Sau Fi) aN WS ut nixwat Vs ry fi THERE, MOTIONLESS AS A STATUE, HER SLIGHT FORM WRAPPED “' He must have wounded one terribly to make him bleed like this.” “And if he had been a flesh-and-blood Injin he would have never tramped in that manner. I tell ou, William Relmond, there is something more than umanaboutus. I can feelit in my bones, and I’m of Biddpn’s opinion, that the sooner we get away from hete’the better.”’ 3 ‘‘ Pudge! I see you are beginning to get alarmed. “Oh, no; you are mistaken, I am not frightened at all. For Biddon's sake, bu more especially for ours, Iam anxious. If you are desirous of remain- hereabouts, and will take all the consequences, I will make no objections,” ‘Of course, if I run into danger of my own ac- cord, I expect that I alone will suffer the penalty. “ Then we needn't say anything more about it; you know we pledged ourselves to remain true to each other, and 1 won’t desert you.” “That's well spoken, Nat. The minute I am sat- isfied that our lives are imperiled, I shall not be the means of prolonging that peril a moment. It is only this great desire to solve and understand the singular occurrences that are transpiring around us, that leads me still to remain. I have determined that to-day we shall be satisfied.” “ My curiosity is extraordinarily high; but I guess that gal has as much to do with it ag thing else. I'm determined to get a glimpse of her face, and, if ble, whisper in her ear that Nat Todd, from Haine, is abou . I flatter myself that the minute she we that, she will jump overboard and maxe for shore without saying & word to the chaps with her.”’ “The greatest y will be to convey your Bill Biddon, Trapper. words to the captive, without conveying it also to her captors.”’ ““I swow, it would be harder than I thought at first.”’ ) During this conversation, which was carried on in a half-whisper, Nat was constantly parting the bushes and peering through them, while now and then I glanced expectantly up the stream; but noth- ing as yet had rewarded our watchfulness, Sudden- ly I reflected that, as I had been twice defeated in observing the disappearance of the canoe, from the exact spot upon which we were now seated, we might make a better arrangement of ourselves, so as to insure this coveted knowledge to one of us at least. I mentioned this to Nat. ‘Tf one of us was on the t’other side, the thing would be certain, but that can’t be done very con- veniently, and we shall have to try something else.”’ ‘Suppose you go down-stream about a hundred yards, near the bend yonder,” I proposed to Nat. “Guess I will,”’ he exclaimed, as he rose to go. ‘Wait a moment,” said I, detaining him, ‘“ Let me admonish you to exercise no ordinary caution, Nat, for you have seen enough to convince you that your own safety depends upon it. Remember thata word or false movement, however slight, may de- feat our plans. Look out for danger to yourself, and not let your curiosity bé the means of your destruc- tion. é very careful,” I know not what led me to thus warn him; but at the moment he arose to go, an unaccountable sense of fmpending danger came overme. It was not so much for myself as for him that I felt thus, He promised to heed my words and departed, ~ ~ sir . Pt — whe — ee ~ “ ne de —. _ = _—————— As soon as he had disappeared, I cast another look up-stream, but still there were no signs of the ex- pected canoe, and a sudden apprehension that I Should not see it again came over me. There was, in fact, as much reason not to expect it as to antici- pate its coming, and as I looked up at the sun and saw that it was already beyond the hour, I was half- tempted to turn back. ile J was debating, I natu- rally looked up the river, and there, just rounding the bend where the canoe had first come into view be- fore--there it was coming. Quivering with agitation, I sunk upon the ground, and gave alow whistle as a signal to Nat. He returned it, as an evidence of his watchfulness, . I saw that from where I was seated, the view would be more obstructed when the canoe was nearest. Ac- cordingly, I oa cautiously and quickly nearer the water’s edge. This time, howéver, I slightly varied my course, and- concealed myself behind the trunk ofa fallentree. This was within a yard of the water, and afforded complete concealment. I noticed the log was rotten and apparently hollow. tere I lay, and intently listened and watched. A few moments and an ost inaudible ripple was heard, and the canoe was opposite. I exercised ex- treme caution, and was fortunate enough to obtain a perfect view of each of the occupants. They were the same+the dark, malignant faces of the-savages, _ a me cor ety of the erlipedeiae She sat in the rn, her hand resting gently upon a guiding-oar, and her gaze fixed upon the stream in Mont. The canoe floated with the current, and rot.a paddle was stirred, nor the least motion made by the beings be- foreme, The head-dress of the captive was, as men- = never called him before. The question was asked, IN A THICK MANTLE, STOOD % tioned before, eegle-feathers end porcupine-quill«, while the dark, waving wnasecs of hung low m the shouldors, contrasting with the whiteness of her face. A heavy crimson shawl enveloped the form, as when first seen. The features ware regular and, perba 2 ty RE State Oe rena wale eaeree considerably eahanced; but the hought Che UPOr me that if there were supernatural in my experience, it was in pee such wonderful beauty as was now before me. Unconseiously I forgot myself as the cance waa gliding past, and before I was eware, it was hidden from view by intervening obstacles. I withdrew hastily, intending to hurry further down where the view would be more compléte. I had taken but a. step or two when Nut’s rifle was discharged, and Ff heard distinctly the muffled sound of his voice. Wild with agitation, I dashed to the spot where I os i ed him to be. The view of the river at this pomt was pint, and I turned to look at the canoe. It had van- ished! I looked round for Nat, but he, too, was gone, 1} called him, and once thought I heard a faint answer. But it was not AY Aogaae and I could not tell ite direc- tion. I reached the ground and beheld the tracks of others besides his own, I waited until near night, but Nathan Todd was never to return, CHAPTER VILL ALONE IN THE WILDERNESS. “'WuHerr’s your friend?” There was apprehension in the question of the trapper, or he would not have called Nat, as he had t* ea ibee-ad ee ———l— MYSTERIOUS CAPTIVE,—Page 18. too, the instant I appeared. ‘*T cannot tell,”’ y. * Whar’d you leave him?” ‘**T cannot answer that, either. to watch the river, as you remember, der to obtain a better view, nothing of him,”’ ‘Was it he who shot?” Since then I ha ‘It sounded like his gun, although I am: not posi- tive that it really was.’ ‘I heerd it an’ took it for him; and, shoot me, if I didn't know he'd got into some scrape.” “T fear he has, and the last one, too,” “My thoughts, ‘zactly. Luckfly yon did not, too.” “T came nearer than I wish to again, Biddon. I can tell you, that I am willing to leave this place aa soon as you wish, Let us leave to-morrow. Are you willing?” ne l go to-night,if you want to.” “‘ faint hopes that Nat may return.” *“ Waugh! you'll never see him again, and ef we're Leet yer another day, we'll never see each other n b “T think he has been only captured by some Jurk- ing mew , from whom he may escape. ‘ iO, we'd better be gone tco,” ‘Perhaps you are right, Biddon slhoush » shall satis?” } be loth ‘to leave the vicinity w am a of his fate,"’ ee answered, seating myself gloom. He went with me Espying that canoe, he concealed himself a few yards eae in or- ve seen 0; it will be best to wait until daylight, “I have 7} I tell you he’s gone, and I reckor as how a | EVOOKS. com