Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 1158 — page 12: what you’re looking at

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

12 Beadle’s Half-Dime Library. @ a - - o «& ~ - a em ——se ee eo ore “How long nave you been here?’ asked the oe ‘“Sartin!” replied the trapper, with a quiet | his boy into a marriage for the sake of the mon- : % Gy > # EVE « . , . ¢ m c ; AX ‘.s,Pm 2. . yrs 4x "seit ne PoE AE ON 4 ~~ ° « : oo Me . A ce . . i= mo. ae . + i . ‘ is oe? e rh. _ — ~~ a S, i 2 « 7 * Cite ee Ls ; es 4 noes. 5 nh — a en “tg x 1 « | a Sy . rig 4 Ay" 4 . ‘ ae i 7 | ‘ ‘. a2 ge td . - er is y a: “a a - » ~~ es P ~ ~ mm Ba - . + : .- of 7 ees : lll a > ae fy | oem a". ae aay Ty i. Pe . “s re wre A“ Seg ae See bf Fe Des Nate, , young man. “Nigh onto two hours. I revkon,” replied the ‘ 1y did you not discover yourself to me Courtney asked. ‘Wal, I didn’t know as you’d expect to see a friend hyer, in the bush, an’ I thought likely ef I jumped up on you sudden, you mought have took me fur an jun, an’ gone fur me jist as that air gal was a-goin’ to.” ‘* 'Where’s your companion?’ asked the girl. ‘‘Safe as a bug in a rug!” exclaimed the trapper. 17 San you conceal yourself and him ”—she referred Courtney—‘‘so that the Blackfeet ean not discover you?’ “You bet!” cried the trapper, emphatically. ‘‘T kin hide him whar all the red Injuns of the North-west wouldn't find him,” “You will go with him, then,” said the girl to Courtney. ‘*And you?’ cried Courtney, “will you not go with me?” gir To-night, no; to-morrow, yes,’”’ answered the ‘Why not to-night?’ questioned Courtney. “Tf I remain in the village I can discover whether the Indians will search for you, and what plan they will form to capture you; then I can eeme and tell you, and you can avoid them.” “The aks sense, by hookey!” cried the sreppe ‘let her have her own way; she knows ‘‘Do as you think best, for heaven’s sake!” cried Courtney; “‘ but, be careful of your life; when and where shall I see you again{ ’ ‘* To-morrow night, the aie “Ef I might su , ma’m,” said the old trapper, “‘ you had better let me come fur you. I’m used to tue woods an’ he ain’t.”. ‘* You speak wisely,” said the girl. ‘‘ Where shall I meet you?’ ‘Right hyer, on this ere spot. I guess they -won’t expect to find ‘ Longlegs,’ as they call me, vo nigh their wigwams,” said the trapper, with a quiet chuckle. ‘It is good,” replied the Indian girl. ‘ To- niorrow night, then, when the sun goes down and the spirit lights begin to shine, you will be ere. ‘t Bet your life onto it, every time!” said Sol, with one of his iar grins, for the old. trap- was in high spirits at the thought of baffling the Blackfeet, | ‘* Good-by,” said the girl, looking into her lover’s face with a longing ayo be her large dark eyes; ‘‘do not fear; the ite Bird will count the hours till she secs your face again.” A moment Courtney held her in his arms; their lips met in a farewell kiss, and then the Indian gil, taking the blanket that had dis- sed the young man, returned again to the ttle lodge. ‘Perhaps I have seen her for the last time— | perhaps my lips never again will touch her soft cheek,” cried Courtney, as the of the In- ravage was hid from his gaze by the walls of @. ‘Cheer up! Hope fur the best!” cried the oid trapper, in a gin tone. ‘The gal’s a trump, every time! { shouldn’t mind captivating a critter like her myself. But, come, we've got a _ few miles to tramp afore we’re safe from the red devils.” , | The trapper struck out a path through the thicket; and Courtney, after a farewell glance at the little lodge which had held him a prison- er, but now concealed only tho slight form of the White Bird, the Flower of the Blackfeet, turned and followed him. / a CHAPTER XT. THE x«REASURE WORTH FIFTY THOUSAND DOL- LARS. Ow throuzh tho forest with a long, steady _ stride wens the trapper, closely followed by Courtney. As near a3 he coull calculate, Sol -_ took the same path returning to the river that _ he had trod in coming from it to the Indian vil- _ Jage.. So closely had the man caleulated, that, after a long, tedious tramp through the wood, trey struck the river ai the little ravinevhat we have before mentioned, | Set) The two crossed the rocks and entered the ; “Be keerful an’ pick your way, else you'll go _ ker-souse inter sume big pool,” was the trapper’s caution, as they Seance ices journey aes “Why do you go through the wat-r?_ Why | Willi os eS ee or eraling any then kegs.” © Thad »® VLA? Ss - ar Y~ ad fe » e « ra a." * ~ +. am ay _ < — - ~ » r - ~F ’ ‘ ES o - o-+-- i * = a —- ly be worth fif old, and - ~ . _ Ns oe, - “Ss ‘ q ~ : a. a. -4 . “ oD car tea! ba oa . - * << a <a —S * ™ & ' ; .. Fi ret yt ~_ a. ~~ ' ate ak ‘ Sun z » > 5 oo * rae PADS oS a 5 tye Cr le Se chuckle at the young man’s ignorance of wood- craft; ‘‘ but, s’pose the red heathen foller us? They kin track us easy from the village to the river, but, at the river our footprints stop; nary sign is there of the way we’ve gone; but ef we were to go on the bank they could track us clean to our hidin’-place, an’ the chances would be that our handsome top-knots would hang an’ dry in the smoke of some big Injun’s lodge.” “True,” replied Courtney; ‘‘I own I am no woodman. I should be as one lost in this wil- cerness, were I alone.” ‘Jes’ so; but I reckon I know every stick of timber, every foot of ground, an’ every inch of water tween hyer an’ the Columbia river,” said the trapper. ‘ After a weary march, our adventurers reach- ed the mouth of the little cave; into it, much to Courtney’s astonishment, Sol conducted him. ‘‘ Hyer we air, safe from any painted heathen that runs on the top of the airth in this ’ere re- gion,” cried Sol, as they stood within the little cave. Wright greeted Courtney and Sol warmly; he had given up all hopes of ever again seeing the young man, Courtney briefly related his adventures since he with his companions by the banks of the little stream. Wright listened attentively. ‘For the present, then, we are in safety!” Was exclaimed. - “You bet! Don’t you worry ’bout the Injuns, they'll never find us, ’cept through accident, We'll jist stay hyer till to-morrow night; then Ti go up to the vines, git the leetle gal, an’ arter that we'll git out of the Injun a 5 as fast as we kin. But, boys, the question is, how that’s goin’ to be done?’. ** Wait here, I suppose, until the Indians have iven over the pursuit, then make our way back the best way we can,” said Aish. owe ‘Then you’ve given up your idee of goin’ into the Injun village?” asked the old trapper. ‘To attempt to carry out my plan at present would be madness. The Indians are : they know of our being in the neighborhood; to porate to their villa ge now and secure the easure that I am insearch of, would be clearly impossible; indeed, I think we shall be lucky if we su ages,” lied Wright. “Thar’s a heap of truth in what you say,” said Sol, gravely. ‘‘We air in a mess, an’ thar’s no two ways "bout it. Our top-knots air in danger, you bet!” “But, by the way, Wright,” said Courtney, suddenly, ‘‘you have never told us what it is that you seek in this Indian village. What treasure is there in the lodges of the Blackfeet worth fifty thousand dollars?” | “Fifty thousand dollars/” cried Sol, in as- tonishment. ‘‘I wouldn’t give oo thousand cents for the hull dog- Blackfoot nation, cuss thar copper-colored sun-tanned hides!” “Neither would 1,” quietly observed Wright; ** vet there is a treasure in yonder little Indian village that, if I had it in St. Louis, would sure- thousand dollars to me.” ‘‘ Explain, Wright, and tll us what it is,” said Courtney. | 7 “Well, since I have failed in my ee I will answer your inquiries; and, after I have ex- plained, you will see that my scheme for mak- ing fifty thousand dollars was not.a visionary one, and but for the sav discovering us, my adventure would probably have been success- ful; but I must first speak of the past before I tell of the present.” . ‘“My story commences some twenty years ago. At that time a man named uel Curtis lived in St. Louis. St. Louis then was deeply engaged in the fur trade. This Curtis was a wealthy fur merchant, was about fifty years dason, a wild young fellow, possess- ing none of the father’s steadiness, Curtis the elder had amassed a large fortune—report said that he was worth fifty or. sixty thousand dol- lars, To this fortune his son, William, was of course the sole heir. Judge then of the father’s astonishment and disgust—for he was a man of cat pride and hauteur—when his only son, the eir to all this vast property, married a SS td sewing-girl not worth a single penny. en the news of his boy’s marriage came to his ears, the rage of the old man knew no bounds. He closed his doors at. once against his own child and his beggarly bride, as he termed the wife, whose sole offense was that she was poor; in ev- ery other respect she was fitted to me the wife of a far better man than the wild, reckless Villiam Curtis. Friends intereeded for the a a pe their r intercession was useless. a tiee Gactaged tha We sinh hed eqtrspped 4D ) in ie ourselves from the sav- affair seemed buried Sa about a year ago the old man Crrtis died. On «~ ‘~ . ~ , *.* ™~ Wh =: iz «) at Pe SR a es bee: tA el OA Gg O Se a ee Ps, pet os [ oat ’ a = : ‘ . y wc. art S. Pin’ hte cx Se tee (.— A ey that he would one day possess, and he swore a bitter oath that not one dollar of his fortune should ever go into her hands.” ‘‘ Why, the hard-hearted old cuss!’ cried Sol, indignantly, ‘‘to turn ag’in’ his own flesh an blood fur a little bit of any wees I’m durn- ed ef money ain’t fur from bein’ a blessin’ some- times,” ' “Very true,” returned Wright, ‘‘ but to go on with my story. For a time the son and his wife struggled along in St. Louis. ‘The father was to them as an utter stranger. At last, wearied by his fruitless struggle for life—for young Curtis did not possess the iron will and nerve of his father—he left St. Louis with ais wife, and threw his fortunes with a train of emigrants for the North-west. When the fa- ther was told of the resolve and departure cf his boy, he showed no signs of forgiveness, ‘He has chosen his bed; let him lie on it; was his cold reply to those who again ycentured tu intercede for the gOehS people. “Curtis, with his wiie, proceeded with the emigrants to their settlement on the upper Mis- souri; then, attracted by the gold discoveries in California, he left his wife and struck across the pane to try his fortunes in the mines. With im my story has nothing more to do, as it is unknown what became of him. He never rc- turned to his wife, and was svypcsed to have died in California, | ‘““The wife remained in the little settlement where her husband had left her; a baby girl was born to her, and then, some fifteen years age, when the child was four. yeais old, she went with some friends to the then new settlement Elk City, though this was long lefore it had re- ceived that name. The wife, whose name wes Delia, kept up a regular ahi Fe with her folks in St. Louis, and from them all these par- ticulars were gained. | “Delia Curtis, with her little girl, hed rot lived a year in the new settlement, when the Blackfeet Indians commenced a fierce war upon the frontier settlements. Among other the little settlement of what is now Elk City was attacked and burnt to the ground; tke in. habitants were murdered by the Indians or cav- ried away into captivity; but few escaped ta tell of the savage slaughter.” | Jes’ so!” interrupted Sol. ‘‘I were one on the few.” ‘*You were?” eagerly questianed Wright, “I were,” repeatcd Sol. ‘‘I knowed Mrs. Curtis an’ the leetle gal: they lived right on the edge of the settlement, the tust house attacked by the red heathen,” : roe “Yes,” responded Wright, “so I was tcli ty ~ one of the survivors. Mrs. Curtis and her «hild were never seen after the Indian attack. Whe- ther they: were killed by the Indians or cairied i od no one could tel.” 3 ‘Wal, they wasn’t killed, in the attack, that’s a dead sure thing,” said the old roe ‘%os T were one on the fellers that helped to bury the bodies; but the savages mought have knocked ’em on the head afterwards.” / “After the departure of his scn from &t. Louis, old Mr. Curtis pursned his way through the world as usual. He was told, cf course, of the eapecees deaths of his scn, his sen’s wife and daughter, and if the old mza reperted of his hardness, outwardly he made ro eign. Years passed on; there was ro one to institute a search for the lost woman ard child, and the from the world. Jvst his death-bed he thought cf his sn and of bis harsh treatment of that son, and in contritica repented of his conduct. There wes noabksolute ‘ proof that the mother and child were dead, ncr, ~ indeed of the death cf William, But of that there was but little doubt, That the cLid — might be living there were grcathcpes. fo the — old man made a will; the sum of ten thovrand dollars he left to Roderick Wright of St. Lcuis, his confidential man of business, with en in- junction that the ten thousand was to be ex- pended jn procuring proof of the existence cr the death of the girl Delia, the Cavghter of h’s’— eet & iliam and his wife Delizn;.io that grit Del ngs hter, he left 1 role cf ‘lia, his ddanghter, he left ihe wtclect | his Corfiiries ak | the will, that if Roderick W succeedea in finding the missing teir, Delia Crrtis, he wes to | SES +e; be paid the sum of fiftv thousand collars — “And you are the Roderick Wright mention~ o ed in the will?” cried Courtney. “Yes,” Wright. “I git your idee now,” said the trapper scala a hn eee om fi ai dg Sp geese wD _ “> \ {= | he et ls ~s i b Od S oS!) sediine tt’ 0 20RD ka ee 7 —— “mt a * : ' r« . , = « ——_ ” Oe gry mg Me ee ee _ * : ie ok - é : ; *. : ' + _ . wi ? . > eee 3 Pd * 3 * = - 7~ 4 e* 7 » ? s = ™ eo io 26 ys 'one 4 ® - -—- ¢* _ > - ‘ And there wes another clarse in |