Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 1158 — page 3: what you’re looking at

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

ve chief fire-water—rum—want to see Old Sol—s’ you come, you see!” And the sav- without waiting for a reply, immediately the way, with an uncertain, heavy step, down the stairway, ) “Shall we go?’ asked ‘Courtney of his com- ‘**Yes; he evidently knows where the trapper is to bo found.” So, down the stairway after the drunken In- dian who had proclaimed his name to be ‘*‘ Mud- hole,” and had asserted his right to be a ee chief, went Courtney the adventurer, and - erick Wright, the man with the iron will, who sought a living treasure, worth fifty thousand dollars, in the country of the Blackfeet. CHAPTER II. THE GIANT TRAPPER. THE savage led tho way over the gang-plank to the shore. Wright and Courtney followed. The bank gained, the Indian paused for a mo- ment till the two whites came up. ** White chief find Longlegs—give Indian rum —ugh?” asked the chief, eagerly. “Yes,” answered Wright; ‘go ahead.” ‘“Mudhole big chief. *pose you comé.” And on went the Indian, while the whites followed in his track, . The red-skin led the way up the bank through the town, past the fort, and finally stopped at a small whitewashed shanty, that stood apart from the other houses onthe outskirts of the village. Arriving at the door of the shanty, the savage stopped, ‘*Old Sol wigwam—ugh—rum!” and the sav- age extended his hand. ‘* Call him,” said Wright, suspecting that the Indian had misled them, and promised what he was unabie to perform, in order to obtain the coveted rum, “Ugh! Chief no like Old Sol! Big stick— wallop Mudhole when chief drink rum. Rum good—stick bad—chief no like stick, heap !” ‘It is evident that this Indian is a hanger-on to Old Sol, and that the trapper thrashes him when he indulges in whisky,” said Courtney. “It would seem so; but, the fellow may be lying, replied Wright. ive Indian rum?” questioned the savage, impatient , Hullo!” broke in a savage voice, and the door of the shanty opened suddenly, disclosing to view the figure of a man standing about six feet high, and of a broad and powerful build, attired in a hunting-shirt and leggins of deer- skin, the color of which had once n yellow, but now was stained and discolored to a dirty brown. The shirt and leggins had seen hard service, too, as the many rents and tears, now neatl tched with particolored pieces, proved. The face of the man was a strang was large, hooked like an eagle’s beak; evident- ly it had been broken by some heavy blow. His eyes were a dark blue in color—so dark that at first glance they would be called black; his hair was bright red in hue, and was cropped tight to his head. A thin red beard covered the long, inted chin. High cheek-bones, with the s wn tightly over them, and you have the pen- picture of Sol Ginger, the Giant Trapper, gene- rally called by the whites ‘* Old Sol,” and by the ] e one: his nose red-skins ‘‘ Lo ”—the man who had trapped over every inch o und from the Snake river on the South to the river of the North; the man, too, who feared to shed human blood— who would rather go ten miles out of his way than slay a red-skin brave, ba’ who was known throughout the mountain region as the best shot, the roughest rider, and the keenest woodman that ever tra ‘a beaver or put a ball through * Drunk ag’in, by hookey eried the tra . y hookey!” eri e trapper, as his eyes fell mn the face of the redoubtable rtp c, bi blinking like an owl, in a vain attem ap sober. ““Mudhole big chief! No like rum _ heap!” stammered the savage, in defense. ‘You lie, you drunken cuss you!” exclaimed the trapper. ‘‘ Rum! it’s mother’s milk to you, you long-legged son of a pine tree! Do you s’pose I’m goin’ to tote round any sich whisky- pl roe air, dod rot you?” cried the trapper, indignantly. : The Indian hung his head sheepishly at this torrent,of words. ‘‘White chief want see Old Sol,” said Mud- hole, qimeverie’ to turn the trapper’s atten- tion from himself to the strangers. “Old Sol!” cried the tri trap in a rage. “Who in thunder air you callin’ Old Sol, you "ison son of a skunk you? My name’s Solomon _ Ginger, Esq.,; dod rot you?” ‘ legs é big chief! Heap fight!” said’ the Sol Ginger. savage, thinking by the compliment to appease the angry trapper. ‘You mud-colored heathen, your own legs air a heap sight longer nor mine. You’ll ’scuse me, gentlemen, but this ’ere Indian’s enough to rile the stomach of a dead b’ar. He’s the most ornery cuss you ever heerd tell on. ~- In two minutes arter he strikes a settlement he’s as drunk as an eel in a pot,” said the trapper, turning to the two strangers; ‘ but, walk in, strangers. Kf you want to see Sol, the Trapper, I s’pect I’m the man, as the lawyers say, to the best of my knowledge and belied. "7 **If you are Sol, the Trapper, you are the very man we want to see,” said Wright. ‘Wal, come into my ranch, strangers, an’ you, you durned, copper-colored, no-souled crit- ter you, ef I.ketch you hangin’ up by the nose round any rum-shop, you an’ I'll cry quits. Jes’ you bear that in mind.” ‘‘Mudhole big chief. Fight rum—enemy!” said the drunken savage. ‘*Jes’ so; though an Injun, you foller the Scripters, don’t ye? ‘Love yer enemies,’ you mutton-headed son of a rattlesnake?” And with this parting salutation hurled at the offending chief, the trapper led the way into his shanty. Wright and Courtney followed; the Indian stretched himself out before the door, despite the hot beams of the sun pouring down upon him. The interior of the trapper’s abode was as plain as the outside. The furniture consisted of a little pine table, a common rocking-chair, and half a dozen boxes of various sizes, that served as tables and closets, and held the sim- ple cooking-utensils of the hunter. In one cor- ner stood a Henry repeating rifle, splendidly ornamented with silver on the stock; in another, one of the old-fashioned rifles, with a-barrel of progiescns length, and carrying a ball of a hun- red to the pound. Suspended from a nail by a cord was a buck-horn handle hunting-knife, long, broad, heavy and sharp—no child’s play- thing for ey use, but the forest weapon, keen and true. anging to nails on the walls in various places, were the traps of Old Sol, the tools of his trade, the deadly agents that had taken the life of many a beaver and muskrat by the side of the swift-flowing rivers of the great North-west, “Sit down, strangers,” said the si a after they had entered the shanty, ‘‘I ain't got much furniture, ’cos you see my home is the wilderness. I rough it thar, an’ in course I si it hyer too.” ae right and Courtney sat down upon the xes, ‘Wal, what is it? S’pose ’'m open fur a trade,” said Sol. ‘*] wish to make an excursion into the Black- foot country. In fact, go up the valley of the Flathead river, and I wish a guide. Will you ere the position ?” asked Wright. ** What on airth do you want up thar?” asked Sol, in amazement, * That’s my secret,” replied Wright, with a smile. ‘ Will you gowith me?’ ‘Wal, I don’t know. How many be thar in your party?” asked the trapper. 5 Two only; my friend here and myself.” aa you want to go into the Blackfoot sé Yes ” . But, creation! it’s almost certain death. Don’t you know, stranger, that the Blackfeet are deadly enemies to the whites?” asked the Giant trapper. “Yes, Yn that; but still, I wish to go right into the heart of the Blackfoot country. ‘Nay, more, I shall probably have to penetrate secretl into their villages.’ “I think I git your idee: you want a guide that kin carry you through the country withous havin’ to fight the Injuns every step.” “‘That’s my idea exactly. have been told that you know the country well, and are a pru- dent, careful man—one not inclined to run heedlessly into danger. Understand me, I wish to avoid encountering the savages if mossible, My errand must be successful through eanning, not through force,” ‘* You ain’t arter a gold mine, air you?” asked the hunter suddenly. — ‘* No,” answered Wright. | ***Cos, if you were, I wouldn’t stir a dod-rot- ted step. ar’s gold ’nough now in the world, ough to make half the people that gits it imps of Satan.” , Be assured itis not gold but something else I see ** Jes’ so; some friend of yourn has been cap- tivated by the Blackfeet, an’ you want to find out whether they are dead ow alive.” vA = (HU WTCT]T]]] nn erent snmp nnn RRS neem ——EEEE —— ——————— —— ———— — —————————————e mm ieee Oe eee ee eel Se tO— Wright started; the shrewd trapper had half penned his secret. ‘‘ Yes; you have guessed the truth. Will you go as guide?” ‘* Sartin,” replied the trapper, quickly. ‘‘ Guess I won’t hold back’when a fe ler-critter’s in dan- ger, When I do, you kin jist take the hide right off me, an’ tan it for moccasins. ‘What will the service be worth?’ asked bf “Vl tell you better when we git back; but mind, now, we ain’t to do any fighting ef we kin help it. You see, it goes ag’in’ my grain to aa blood, human blood, whether it’s ved or white. ‘We are not eager to run into danger,” re- plied Wright; ‘‘ but, would it not be as well to take another mountain man with us? My friend and I know very little of woodcraft.” *Sartin, an’ Pve got jist the man.” **'You have?” ‘Fact, by hookey!” cried the trapper, “‘ That drunken Injun, Mudhole, fotched you ap hyer, didn’t he?’ sé Yes,” ‘* He’s the very identical critter that we want to go along with us.” ‘What, that drunken brute?’ cried Court y: ** Jes’ so; but he don’t get drunk arter he leaves the settlements. He’s the best guide that ever follered a trail. Nary foot of sile tween hyer an’ the Lake of the Woods that he don’t know jist as well in the darkness as in the light, He’s been a partner of mine now, nigh onto three years. I picked him up hyer in Fort Ben- ton, ’bout three years ago. Fe d come to town, got drunk, an’ been beat almost to death by some of the river-men. I took him home hyer{ cured him, an’ he’s follered me like a dog evet since. KEfI could only keep him away fro the cussed whisky, I wouldn’t ask ror a better critter; but when the durned rusn gets inté him, he ain’t worth shucks,” “But away from the settlements, you say, he is perfectly trustworthy,” said Wright. ‘Jes’ so; ef he ain't, kick me to death with ne cripples, He’s jist old chain-lightnin’ in the In- mt country, hen shall we start un our expe- ition? ** As soon as possible,” replied Wright. ‘Wal, 1 ain’t got nothing to hinder me, so we'll take the trail to-morrow morning "bout four. Any ’ticular part of the Blackfoot coun- try*you want to go to?” ‘Yes; to the village of the White Wolf.” ‘Jes’ so! I know the critter. He’s one of the top dogs among the Blackfeet. Nigh onto five hundred warriors in his village. He’s a sige enemy of the whites. About ten ig ape he jist worried the settlements along border hyer like Old Scratch. Lordy! I remember the time he come down on Elk City—it were only a leetle ranch then—like a thousand of brick. It were the toughest old fight you ever did see.” eae e's the chief whose village I seek,” said right. “Wal, I'll put son through thar, or my name ain't Solomon. But now, strangers, you want to. fix your traps, for it ’tain’t a picnic were goin’ onto. Got any hoss?” Wright replied in the negative. “Wal, I know a couple of ponies you kin Sak. heap cheap, as my drunken Injun Mudhole would sa “That's a ‘‘Mudhole!” said Courtney. strange name fora chief.” ‘* Jes’ so! Some of the river-men named him, ’cos he was always drunk, an’ ginerally lay around loose in the mud.” ‘What tribe does he belong to?’ asked big vo ) ‘‘ Stranger, you've got me; I don’t know. He thinks a heap of me, and I think would fight to the death for me every time; but he won the name of histribe.’ I had an idee that he were a Blackfoot, but one day down in the vil- lage he got into a fight with some Injuns of the Blackfoot tribe, an’ nigh killed one of ’em afore they pulled him off, an’ of course he wouldn't do that ef he were a Blackfoot, ’cos of course dog won't eat dog.” That’s very true,” said Wrig t. “Tn course; it’s human natur’,” sagely the trapper. *‘ to come back to our mut- ton, you want, des the hosses, a couple of ood revolvers, a rifle, a ting one ou i SSE age if you’re close pressed, them th ll. us ity friend has a Colt’s repeating rifle, and J ar,” an 6 where the rifle wee 900 ; €om Gc cS