Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 1158 — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

a the ole pon his ; of the of the 48) »” of the earts!”? ” f. lk from Spotted e Long- 0 leava mele ed Elk, d _ dark. ight in 10ught listen- D. who show ot. I LY is?” > con- riend “1 his m the iding- could e the man, lraw- t full who, ction yY, as st of ripe ne wie d hip said Ly a 3 re- hoot ues- ‘hat hese inte yes, “oT ick his no the od Y So “* "1 VN Sol Ginger. 7 Courtney looked at the earnest face of the girl in astonishment; he was in a maze; he could make nothing of these strange words. he do not understand you,” he cried; ‘‘ ex- plain. ‘‘Some time,” said the girl, with a smile, *‘Good-by, now. You go tothe Flathead river: you will be im danger, but | will watch over you, and yow shall have the treasure, One word: beware of the Indian, Mudhole! He will betray you to the Blackfeet. Nay, more, he has betrayed you. CGood-by!” and the girl folded te blanket around her as if to depart. ‘** One moment!” cried Courtney, as he press- ed a farewell kiss upon her lips. ‘‘ My name is Harry Courtney; what is yours?” * White Bird, the Flower of the Blackfeet,” murmured the girl, as she glided from his arms and disappeared in the darkness that hung like an inky pall over the earth. Courtney watched her retreating figure until it was lost to his view, and then, with a heart beating high with joy, he returned to the trap- per’s shanty and sought his humble couch, a single blanket on the hard earth. But, his dreams that night were pleasant ones, for the dark eyes. and red lips of the Blackfoot maid were ever before him, CHAPTER V. IN THR HANDS OF THE BLACKFEET. WHEN the first gray streaks of light appeared in the eastern sky, the Giant Trapper awoke the two adventurers; the trio made-a hasty hreak- fast, and then soon were in the saddle, Hardly had the three mounted, when the In- diax, Mudhole, came up, looking as if he had pasens the night in some mudhole sleeping off he effects of the potent fire-water. Mudhole stared at the mounted men; a dim expression of astonishment appeared upon his features. “Old Sol go—no take Mudhole with him?” questioned the Indian. ‘In course, xot,” replied the trapper. ‘‘ Git your hoss; we’re fur the mountains ’fore tho sun’ up.” ‘*‘Mudhole go,” responded the. savage, as he entered the little corral, and proceeded to saddle his pony, an CPREAZOR which was extremely simple, said saddle consisting only of a single blunkes, ‘¢ knowed he’d come,” said the trapper, with a grin. ‘* He’s got the cussed whisky out o’ him, av. he’s a huli team in the wilderness.” By this time the Indian had strap the blanket on his pony and mounted; then Sol ave the signal, and the party rode off toward he west, taking the trail that led through Cadotte’s Pass to the little frontier settlement known as Elk City. : As they rode along, Courtmey could not resist taking a searching glance at the redoubtable Mudhoie, who rode in the rear, some ten paces behind the rest. The warning of the young In- dian girl recurred to the mind of Courtney; her warning was a strange one: ‘‘ Beware of the Indian, Mudhole; he will betray you to the Blackfeet; nay, more, he has betrayed you.” ‘‘ What the deuce did she mean?’ asked Court- ney of himself. ‘‘How can he have already betrayed us?—-that is the question.” But no so- lution of the mystery presented itself to the young man’s mind. “Til keep my eyes upon him,” he resolved ‘‘and if I see the slightest sign of treachery, vil tlow his brains out as I would a mad dog’s.” Carefully did the old trapper lead the march, tor, as he explained to Wright and Courtney they might chante to fall in witha roving band of Crow Indians at aT eg Se as they were SoneeEe the regions inhabited by that warlike tribe. Thanks to the trapper’s precautions, and to the good-fortune which kept the Indians from their trail, the little party reached Cadotte’s Pass without seeing signs of a hostile savage. Climbing the rocky passes of the great moun- tains, our adventurers at length descended on the western side, and turned their course to the north-west, eavIng the Elk City trail, and tak- ing a pathway of their own through the rough and timbered defiles. At the close of a weary day’s march, our ad- venturers halted for rest and eppber by the side of a little stream that came tumbling —the waters pure as crystal—from the over- nanging mountains. ‘‘ Now, then, we air nigh. our pouMey s end; we foller this leetle brook ten miles or so, and we strike. the valley of the Flathead river,” said ze trapper, as he dismaunted and extended his bs on the grass. “How far are we, then, from the village of TT LL Ne $e, ling down | the White Wolf?” asked Wright, as he followed the trapper’s example and reclined at his side. *’Bout ten miles or so—nigh enough to be mighty dangerous ef we ain’t mighty careful,” replied the trapper. ‘* You think there is danger of the Indians stumbling upon us here?” said Courtney. “Not much; it’s a mighty good time fur our expedition, fur about this time nearly all the roung braves air away, down in the plains ar- er bufflers. It’s the hunting season now; but, how on airth air you a-goin’ to find out whe- ther this ’ere person you seek is in the village of the White Wolf or not?” asked the trapper, with a doubtful shake of the head. ‘“ That will be a difficulty indeed,” said Wright, thoughtfully. ‘‘Can you not suggest some lan?” are In course I kin, but thecarryin’ of the plans out, thar’s whar it gits me,” andthe old trapper shook his head wisely. ‘‘In the first place, plan number one, we mought one on us go onto a smellin’ expedition into the village, an’ try to diskiver the truth in thatair way; but, thatair’s mighty dangerous, ’cos it would have to be done arter dark, an’ ten chances to one we wouldn’t Varn any thing, an’ would only have our trouble fur our pains, You see it wouldn’t do fur ary one on us to go, fur the durned Indian dogs would smell out that we were white-skins quick- erin a wink: they know a white man as fur as they kin smell him. Why, even one of the In- jun ponies will raise old Cain at the sight of a white; the dumb brutes know we ain’t friends. So, the only chance would be fur to send Mud- hole. In the darkness he might be able to walk right into the village and right out of it, an’ the Blackfeet not a bit the wiser.” ‘That might do,” said Wright. ‘* Yes, it mought; but I’ve got another plan,” said the Giant ‘l'rapper; “ that is, to captivate one of the ag squaws an’ frighten the truth out of her. The only objection to that air is that ef we let her go a’gin, she’d have the hull village down "bout our ears jist like stirrin’ up a hornet’s nest. I guess the best way will be tolet Mudhole sneak into the village, arter all.” ‘Yes, we can give him instructions,” said Wright. ‘*Sartin,” replied Sol; ‘* he’ll foller ’em. He’s jist as true as steel; you'll find him squar’ every time; ef it ’tain’tso 1 don’t wantacent. But, let’s have some supper.” “Supper!” cried Courtney; ‘that’s a good idea; but | wish we had something besides dr beef and corn,” which two articles being able and easily carried, constituted the provi- sions of our adventurers, During the first of the trip, the rifle of the trapper had produced many a palatable addition to their store, but for the last two days, since entering the rough and timbered defiles that stretched down from the Rocky Mountains to the Flathead river, the trapper had strictly forbidden the use of fire- arms. ‘“We air in the enemies’ country, an’ we mustn’t sacrifice our *op-knots for the sake of our stomachs,” he had quaintly observed. ‘Got tired of dried beef an’ corn, hey?’ asked the trapper. ‘* Yes,” replied Courtney. “How would you like some baked trout, nice, lively leetle spotted fellers?’ asked Sol, with a grin. “Just you try me with a few,” cried Court- ey. We'll have ’em for our supper to-night,” re- sponded the trapper. ‘This leetle brook is full on ’em. . ] guess I kin risk a fire—a leetle one jist big enough to cook ’em ef I cover it up well an’ keep the smoke under. Here’s a line,” and he produced a couple from his pocket. ‘“‘ Jist try your luck down the brook, an’ ef, in half an hour, we don’t have a mess of speckled beauties, just you call me a nigger, that’s all.” Courtney took the line and strolled off down the stream. Some hundred yards or so beyond, the brook took a sudden turn, and Courtney, following it, was hidden from the sight of the others, <A little way beyond the bend, the | brook "is i down over a rocky ledge, form- | ing a charming little cascade. Underneath this | cascade was a dark, deep pool, the very haunt | the agile brook-trout, the king of the fresh-wa- | ter fishes, delights in. Courtney, turning over a decayed stump, pro- | cured some little white grubs for bait, and then | cast his line into the silent pool. Secarcely had the line touched the surface of the water, ere a | fine, large trout made a dash at it, hooked him- | self, and was soon drawn out on the shelving bank. Courtney knelt to release the hook from the mouth of the fish. As he did so, a slight noise in the bushes near him attracted his atten- tion. lt sounded as if some one, moving cau- tiously within the thicket, had stepped upon a dry twig, and it had snapped beneath the pres- sure of the foot. For a moment Courtney lis- tened, his eyes fixed upon the thicket near bim. The noise was not repeated, and Courtney, satis- fied that it was only some small animal or bird forcing its way through the shrubbery, turned his attention again to the fish. The young man was no woodman; no prairie captain was he; be knew not that, in the wilderness, the woodman looks for a foe in every bush, sees the presence of the red-skinned warrior in the rustling of the leaves, detects the Cee foe in the waving of the long grass. The soft wind warns him of danger, the yellow earth beneath his feet tells of the coming fight. But as we have said, Courtney was no sh eyed mountain-man; he knew nothing of thi wiles and tricks of the human hyenas who roam the vast expanse of prairie wilderness that, broken by the Rocky Mountains and its ranges, stretches from the Gulf of California to the dense forests of British America. As Courtney knelt by the side of the fish te extract the hook' from his mouth, the dense bushes ten paces back of him were parted noises lessly, and forth into the little glade came a painted savage. Iour other Indians followed the first—creeping toward the unconscious white, slowly and noiselessly as the snake glid- ing toward its prey they came. A moment more and the foremost savage—who was none other than the chief whom we have seen barter- ing for the skins at Fort Benton—White Wolf, stood within striking distance of Courtney. Slowly the red-skin raised his tomahawk, a mo- ment he held it poised in the air over the head of the unconscious man; then it descended swift as the lightning’s flash, and, striking the young adventurer on the head, felled him senseless te the earth. Courtney fell without even a singlecry. Ex. tended upon the earth he fell, stunned, and si» lent as death; but the young man was not dead, The savage had struck him with the blunt ed of the Indian ax, seeming with the intent stun, not to kill him, With a.grim smile, the White Wolf looked upon the face of the senseless man. ‘The white chief is no fox; he has not the cunning of Lonzlegs; his scalp would hang in the wigwam of the Blackfoot, ut the red-man’s heart is big, and he remembers that the pale- face saved the Flower of the Blackfeet from the Big river braves. Young Bear,” he said, turn- ing to one of the foremost Indians, ‘‘ carry the white-akin to the lodges of the Blackfeet; bind him hand and foot with the thongs of deer- skin.” The chief obeyed the words of the White Wolf by casting the senseless form of Courtney upon his shoulder as if it were the body of a child, so powerful was the Indian. ‘‘ Longlegs can not be far away. He will not be taken as easy as this young chief, but he shall never return to the Big river; he shall die by the hand of the Blackfoot.” One of the Indians who had noticed the foot. prints of Courtney, and which way they came, now spoke: ‘*'The white brave came down the stream,” pointing to the footprints, ‘*Wah!” said the White Wolf, with a nt of satisfaction as he noted the marks. ‘ Young Bear go with the white brave to our wigwams, the rest follow me.” Young Bear, with Courtney upon his shoulder still senseless, stepped off lightly with his load in a north-west direction. As the reader has doubtless guessed from the words of the White Wolf, the meeting with Courtney was by accident. From the outcast chief, the Spotted Elk, these Blackfeet knew of the expedition of which Longlegs, or, as we bet. ter know him, the Giant Trapper, was the guide; but they did nct know the exact direction the whites would come in their approach to the In. dian village. So, for the three days preceding the one in the evening of which they had ca tured the helpless Courtney, they had scouted a circle, some ten to twenty miles from the vil- lage,all around it, carefully looking for traceg of the white adventurers. "Thus had they hap- pened to surprise the young man by the side of the trout-stream, The Indians had one great advantage of the little party of whites led by the old trapper, Thanks to the Spotted Elk, they knew the ob- ject of the whites, while they, the whites, were journeying onward, hoping to surprise the In- dian village, and by cunning and stealth stea) the treasure which Wright valued at fifty thow sand dollars. comicdDoOOo <s) com