Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 1155 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

* * * j - 5 i «3 oc a 8 Ae Pa . . _ Aity: _ hay — - = ~ o— + + es ho now saw that discovery was unavoidable. But, he pre himself for the worst. ** Nora,” he said, ina whisper to the maiden, ‘fan Indian is ap ~y ony and our safety depends much onsuence. fe eyes if you would not witness a bloody deed.” As he concluded, the youth grasped the handle of his tomahawk, ready for action. Nora, shuddering, turned her head and buried her face in her hands. Slowly the savage approached—so silently that he created not a sound. Within half an arm’s length of our friends’ canoe, the Indian’s came to a stand. Then, with tomahawk in hand, he leaned lightly forward and peered into. the little ar- m " Hawkeye Harry saw the pupils of his black, scintillating eyes dilate with intense gazing, and knew that he was waiting for them to be- come accustomed to the shadows of the covert. He could see the veins standing out upon his aaked arms and breast, and the workings and twitching of the facial muscles—all engendered by fear, uncertainty and expectancy. they remained for a moment; then the eyes of Hawkeye Harry and ‘the savage met in an unflinching and deadly gaze. Not a w ner a sound escaped the lips of either. But, together their murderous toma- hawks rose; together they fell. CHAPTER X. HENRI ROCHE OUTWITTED. ** Rocn®! “Henri Roche, in the name of God, come here!” ' Wad a voice called to Henri Roche from the mere he would not have started with more vio- ence than when this voice feil upon his ears: He gazed around him, his lips quivering with fear and his face ghastly white. Half-sitting an upon a little ri near the edge of a creek, the outlaw chief saw the figure of a woman; Serom in faded garments, half-civilized and -savage. If Leatintios had startled him with fear, then, the sight of her face paralyzed him with terror; and, like one in a stupor, he stood and gazed up- on the reclining form that stared at him with the stony, icy look. of 2 corpse. f The face was that of a woman: Her form and face were wasted away to emaciation, yet her haggard features and large, mournful'e ’ were the relics of a once beautiful woinan. She might have been: forty, and she might. have been fifty years of age. There were a few threads of silver among her raven-black tresses of hair. Her whole being showed the in- delible stamp of the destroying dof trouble and sorrow. Why should Henri Roche stare at a poor, en woman, his teeth fairly chattering with tear’ ) ‘‘Come hearer to me—come nearer, ‘Henri Roche,” the woman called, seeing he did not move, ‘Come; you need not fear me. Iam a —dying—the victim of your: inhuman treachery and wickedness.” , Henri Roche breathed easier. Though the voice and face of the woman had terrified him, he felt easier when she said she was dying, for her looks confirmed her words. His courage re- ' vived; he did not fear a dying woman; and ad- vancing, he stepped near her and gazed down into the pale, lp ge face. | It was then t he experienced that. feeling of terrible and solemn awe that we all experi- ence when we stand by the death-bed and gaze down upon the cold, clammy features of the dying—a feeling which never ‘ails in its appeals to the bardest heart. Tuere was a settled expression upon the wo- man’s thin face.), Her thin nostrils were dilated and pare. Her lips were bloodless and drawn tightly over the pearly teeth; and the eyes—oh, who can paint the expression of the eyes of one standing upon life’s brink, and-fixed with a gaze, ere beyond the grave into a new transtigu- ration ‘‘Henri Roche.” - iol de it possible that I fd you dying thus, true i e that you dying thus, Cecil sce f bs Yes, faintly. ssek you, Henri Roche,” she broke in; “and Heaven has at length brought us face to face. Roche, you are the author of ail my _ “Nay, nay il Gray,” re ou shirt capt iowa: Then I told you nae ave revenge, and | kept my wo i swore Willi f = a ¢ F +) ‘ pg hae See, | ne : : aa half-reclining against a’rock | ? t is possible,” replied the woman, _- - err . pe “ate al 5 - : * *- = £ ~ Beadle’s “Fale Dime Library. Oe a es ee Gray should never live with you, nor you with him, as man and wife. You knew the hot, re- ve blood of a Spaniard coursed my veins, and should not have crossed me.” ‘t But, Roche, I did not love you.” ‘*Nor did you love Gray. It was his wealth you ‘mari This provoked me worse than all; and when I saw you lavishing your affec- tious on your ‘first-born—the child of Willis Gray—then I resolved to bleed your fickle heart by stealing that child and hiding it away where ou would never find it. I did so—ay, more. separated you and Gray! Mine, Cecil, has been a glorious revenge!” ‘* Yes, yes; I admit it has, Roche,” returned the woman, with a wild, stony gaze that caused him to shudder: 1 can suffer but a little while longer, and let me die content, happy, Roche.” ‘ff Iecan do anything to soothe your mind, now that you are dying, I will do so gladly.” ‘* You can, by telling me if my child still lives, and if so, where she is.’’ A. grim, triumphant smile overspread the face of the outlaw, as he ere **lam glad, Cecil, that in your last moments I can give you this information.- But, had you lived twenty years longer, I would never have done so—no, never!” ‘Oh, Henri Roche! the vengeance of Heaven will fall as heavily upon your soul as your ven- geance has fallen upon my heart: But tell me, ree is my child alive?” +t is 3 ‘* Thank God! Where is she?’ ‘*{ fear that information will. brighten, your last moments but little, Cecil.” “It is my dying request—pray tell me,” she plead, with’ her thin, emaciated hands out- stretched imploringly.” ‘‘She is,” said Roche, ‘in the Sioux village. She is the adoptea daughter of Blagk Buffalo the chief. She has grown to womanhood, and is very beautiful, and when I reach the village again she ‘will become the wife of him her mother. rejected.” A. n escaped from the woman’s lips, and a fire of deadly vengeance flashed in her: dark, sunken’ eyes, as she replied: ‘*Henri Roche, harm one hair of her head and Heayen’s ‘wrath will fall upon you!” se heartless outlaw smiled mockingly, then replied: | “You should not let such bitter. words fall from your lips, Cecil; when you are soon to be summoned before the judgment bar. Let us tallz» more rationally now, forget the -past, “Never! Go! leave me, heartless villain!” ube woman cried, Go! your presence is hate- Roche turned, like one walking in his sleep, and moved’away in deep thought. This inter- view had terribly agitated him, and when adoz- en steps away, something forced him to stop, turn and gaze. back. He started as he did so, with a low cry of sud- den tear. He saw that he. Wad been terribly deceived— outwitted, He beheld the supposed dying wo- man stancing erect, and holding, leveled at his heart, asmall gleaming rifle, along whose bar- Pa! 6 caught the steady and deadly glow of her ‘k. eye. Quick as thought the villain ef ne aside. The rifle cracked and the bullet sped harmlessly by him, ‘‘Taliha! Cecil!” laughed the villain; ‘* your aim is like your deathbed—false, untrue—a de- ception, porsomnng, <4 ou wormed from me tle secret of your child, but little good, it will do you. You shall dog my footsteps no longer— you shall die in earnest. You made a demon of me, and so I care not for human life.” The villain jerked his rifle to his shoulder and leveled it upon the woman. Fear seemed to take possession of the wild, haggard-looking female, and turning, she ran toward the creek and leaped into the water. The upraised rifle of the outlaw followed her form. She sprung upon some dark object thrust upward from the of the stream; then, with a wild,mocking laugh—before the outlaw could fire—she sunk down from view in the creek, as though it had opened to receive her, Roche lowered his rifle in time to see the black object upon which she had stepped sink down in the stream also. Then for a moment followed the hollow rush of water near the mysterious spot, then all grew quiet, save the rush and roar of the rapids in the stream a few steps below. For a moment Rochestood dumbfounded— ter- rified. But at last, he mustered up the coura to advance and examine the cresk whare. the woman had disappeared so mysteriously. He : ‘ eee ee cece ee ee er a a a a - eS a | 2 : - ‘ . ee — , ; ; : a te a, | 4 «A 4 aa roe o c= + e P 4 pee Le c = SS ++ Net. oS le e | rT ‘= : ~ee _ Pa } *—* 2 a Ss . : s. a a ; saw the water was a little bog ey that parr ticles of sand and gravel had n distur This was all. The bed of the creek presented a firm, solid appearance. What mystery was there about this creek? Was it haunted?—was that woman the spirit of Cecil Gray / The more Henri Roche meditated over the matter, yea—the mystery, the more complicated his mind became. At last his courage gave way, and, filled with the most fearful apprehensions, he turned and fled from the spot—-fled as though a hundred fiends were in pursuit of him. Henever stopped running until he reached his own camp. ‘* Boys, we have got to move on, this very night. e must reach Black Buffalo’s village by to-morrow’s sunset. And [ want yeu, Du- bois ”—turning to the guide—‘‘to hasten down the river until you come upon Black Buffalo’s trail, then follow him up until you overtake him. ‘Tell him to send half of his warriors, at least, to his village immediately, as they will be needed there to protect it. But, tell him not to relinquish .the search for the and girl, until they are within power. For that purpose he will need but a few men. Away!” His orders were those of. a man in haste and anxiety. Dubois ebbelsb tie horse, and in a few minutes was galloping down the river. Roche and the rest of his y saddled up their jaded animals and mounting, were soon on their way towar the village of Black Buffalo, situated upon Lake Okibogie, several leagues to the northward, ' The sad face and mournful eyes of Cecil Gray followed him—were ever present to his guil soul’s vision. young Hawkeye -_-__-: --o— CHAPTER XI. THE COMBAT IN THE WATER, TOGETHER fell the tomahawks of the two ar tagonists—Hawkeye Harry and. the savage. ‘here was. a dull crash, a low moan followed by a slight yd the dry reeds, a shock of the two canoes, Nora, raised her head to see her TONE PEONRCUE leaning slightly forward one one knee, unharmed, but in his hand he clutched:a tomahawk whose edge was stained with blood, and glancing just beyond, a terri- ble. sight met her pare he savage, with clo- ven head, lay with his body hanging partly out of the canoe, while from the ghastly wound a stream: of blood was trickling into the water of , the bayou. The escape from the Indian’s tomahawk was miraculous. When both weapons descended, the Indian was standing up; copnenmes ty. Har- ’s hatchet pierced the savage’s brain before the weapon of the red-skin had reached his an- tagonist’s head. The blow threw the savage backward, as the tomahawk descended so close to his face that.he felt the wind, of its swift de- scent, ‘““T hope; Nora, you will not think hard of me for reg ae life, or rather. the life of a savage, Which is but a grade bigher than the wild panther of the woods,” *“ No, eee i responded the maiden, ‘‘ I have heard of the horrors of border warfare, Noone could think hard of another for taking human life in self-defense. But I know ! am a burden on your hands, and I fear 1 may yet cost you your lite,” “ ‘‘'You are a burden, pretty Nora,” said the oung man, in a moment of enthusiasm, ‘‘ that it affords me the greatest sey of my life to bear. Do not think otherwise. y only fears are that Ican not serve you long enough... If the In- dians do not make further search in the bayou, we may escape. But I am now afraid that the absence of their companion may lead them te investigate the cause.’ \ The young ranger now proceeded to examine their situation. He saw the savages moving . along the edge of the river iu canoes, and . some on the bank on foot, examining every stone and blade of grass for the trail. But that which made Harry the most uneasy was a num- ber Creme mtanding on the ae bine ea eyes fixed, apparently, upon @ very ot the unfortunate savage had entered “the dense chaparral of reeds. He knew that, Pay mare . pelea not make his appearance soon, they wo ikely go in seat of him; and, as the red-skin Rad left a broad trail behind him where he entered the reeds, they would have no trouble in finding him; so the young ranger at once resolved to seek some other point of security among the tall reeds, _ Having possessed himself of the dead Indian’s ‘it lance and tomahawk, Harry parted. the before the prow of the canoe, and along through the opening thus f