Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 1167 — page 5: what you’re looking at

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

~~ but when ee oe ree - _— — eee eel ~— +o oe ee oe Though his feet touched the ground he took but few steps in the natural gait. One of Pelo- see’s hands griped his arm like a shackle, and the fingers seemed to encirele the very bone it- self. He could not have broken from that fetter of flesh, any more than he could have torn him- self from the rack of Spanish torture. Pelosee was not the onty guard, for there trot- ted at his heels the dog, his late antagonist, somewhat recovered, and ready to rend him to pieces at the bidding of the island witch. After awhile the party began to ascend the side of an acclivity. Pelosee pushed her way through the small brush that fringed the foot of | the rise, and entered the line of trees. Piney Paul looked up and saw the moonlight far above him. He was Sciam by the sight, for a moment; 1e recollected that many of the isl- ands of the Adirondack lakes contained single aks of startling hight, he ceased to wonder. eer Island boasted of several mountainous ele- vations which were visible from a great dis- tauce. Why should not the ogre’s land, though much smaller, contain at least one such? » No words were ee pom n Pelosee paused as if to make sure of her ae ‘‘The Indian girl is lost,” Piney Paul said, noting her perplexed east of countenance. ‘She lives on the island. Nobody ought to get lost at home!” ‘*Pelosee is not lost,” was the reply. ‘The rain has fallen on the narrow path. Pelosee and Ocotoc do not come up here often!” The Indian girl had halted in the moonlight, and Piney Paul took a good look at her features. When she had first epee from the piney hut at Ocotoc’s command, she appeared a vision of beauty, and the boy again noted that his first glance had not deceived him, The face was oval and faultless to the minu- test particular. The dark hair of the Indian maiden belonged to Pelosee in all its loveliness and wealth. It fell undressed to her glossy shoulders, and, falling over them, increased the romance of her appearance. Her dress, a beaded ~pacque, eesen. Hive the knees, was a very mar- vel of backwoods ingenuity, and the leggings of _ dressed buck-skin ended at the top of handsome |, - moccasins, While Piney Paul was engaged in studying his captor, she moved on again, and the ascent of the mountain became somewhat tiresome. But Pelosee still clutched the boy’s arm, and helped him over the uneven ground with much apparent CSC. ‘Ts that man down there your father?” Piney Paul suddenly said, looking up into the girl’s face. ‘It doesn’t aypeee to me that he can be. You’re downright good-looking, and live in the wrong company. By the great bear! I would say that you were born a long way from that little old devil below us.” “Hush!” cried Pelosee, her gripe tightening till the little hermit bit his lips in pain. ‘ Pe- losee wasn’t born at all. She came in a storm to the island, and Ocotoc is the child of the _ Great Spirit.’ “Gimminy and crickets!” cried Piney Paul. ‘‘ [’'d rather be born right than come to such a home in a storm, leastwise in the kind o’ storms that sometimes thunder through these moun- tains. So Ocotoc is one of God’s children, eh? | I ner oe I’m one of the few people on earth who - don’t believe-that. But it was a pretty storm what fetched you here, Pelosee—a little moun- tain shower when the sun was shining.” The Indian witch did not reply to the boy’s aap h but gave him a look of more feeling than she had yet bestowed, and kept on. “Do you know anything about the hidden girl?” Piney Paul pet hers af Tell me, Pelosee, and I will never forget you.” The gnswer was a rude jerk. : “The mountain boy will soon forget Pelo- see,” were the accompanying words. “She knows where the whi wer grows in the lost lodge; but her lips are shut.” The boy darted her a scrutinizing look. There was honesty in her demeanor, candor in her «Shut, are they?” he cried, stopping and fore- ‘| ing her ‘to pause. “Won't gold open them? wae - Tell me, Pelosee, and all the gold of Tne - jishman - » 24 d ) A = 7 * =” 2 7 Po q , * */ oe > og Aa - » Je i‘ — » > - 4 } = and Pll load you ddwn with the yello shall be yours. Tell me and lét me “s w dit,’ ) "No! Pelosee don’t want the yellow dirt. But he will tell her where it is before she lets ” : mat Without you telling me about the hidden girl? No!” ~ Pelosee will see.” _ "The trio were going up the side of the moun- tam in the moonlight: * The Hidden L Piney Paul noticed that the air got rarer as they advanced, and that the mountain sides were becoming rocky and rough, with chasms here and there, and holes like volcanic craters. He had clambered to the top of Whiteface, and from thence surveyed the rough landscape of the Adirondacks; but he believed that he was ascending a peak which, if not so elevated, was grander than that king of mountains All at once Pelosee stopped and spoke to Death. The dog, as if understanding her, set up a peculiar barking, which was immediately an- swered by the distinct howls of wolves which seemed to emanate from the bowels of the earth, but at a point still above them. “Wolves by hokey!” the mountain hermit involuntarily exclaimed. ‘‘ They don’t get this far up on the mainland mountains.” ‘They stay here!” Pelosee answered; with mysterious significanee. “The little wood-cat will see.” A few steps further ou brought the trio to one of the numerous hollows or basins which we have casually mentioned. It was almost square, and seemed some dark cellar formed by the hands of mountain imps. From its ae came a series of wolfish howls that rivalled Bedlam. _ Piney Paul heard the ravenous animals fight- ing each other, and caught glimpses of brute figures in furious combat. he moonlight fell upon one of the walls of the basin, and its silver, glancing therefrom, but vaguely revealed the occupants of the natural cage. f Ocotoc caught the wild dogs when the snow covered them in the mountains,” Pelosee said, suddenly answering Piney Paul’s mental ques- tion of ‘how came the wolves there?” “ Pelosee feeds them when she likes; but for three nights they have not tasted meat.” Did the boy shudder? If he did not, nothing could appall him! ‘“T guess I see throngh the matter,” he said looking up into the girl’s face, now calm and not stern. ‘‘I’mto go down among them if I don’t tell you about the gold.” % a. ae says Ocotoc, the child of the Great pirit. ‘‘Or somebody else’s devil!” said Piney Paul madly. ‘ here, Pelosee, what have you ot againstme? Must you kill because he says * kill?’ Gimminy and crickets! you might want help somewhere some o’ these days. Besides, the white girl is poor; she is hunted by bad men; she is your sister, Pelosee, and mine, too.” The.girl’s eyes softened and fell upon the mountain boy. ‘‘Pelosee has no sister,” she said. ‘The mountain cat wants to make her his squaw,” ‘‘ You're getting jealous. It’s all out 0’ place here. Pelosee, there is a land far from this island where there is an ety lodge. We would be happy. there. No Ocotoc, no little hut of Snap boughs.” 6 girl was silent. ‘‘T would come back,” said the boy, continu- ing quickly. ‘‘Go and tell Ocotoc that I was thrown to the wolves. He will believe.” “ But the dog would say that Pelosee comes back with a forked tongue,” said the Indian, hes- itating. Piney Paul looked at his 0. . enemy, the dog. The animal was lying on the growsd with hi head over the rim of the basin, snarling at his wilder brethren, the wolves. ‘‘ He will never tell!” the boy cried. ‘You can tell Ocotoc that he fell in trying to bite me. There!” . The next moment there was a loud aLy of canine terror, and Death went headlon; into the pit, sent to his doom by the young imp’s foot, Pelosee uttered an exclamation of horror, and Piney Paul found himself lifted from the ground. ‘‘The Mountain Cat must follow the dog! But he shall have a knife to fight the wolves with. Pelosee was going to let him hunt the hidden girl; but_now—now he must go down to the wolves—down to the mad mountain dogs!” Piney Paul caught the glitter of a knife as it was thrust into his belt, and the next instant he was pushed over the edge of the basin. For onemoment, awful and brief, Pelosee held him in mid-air, and then he fell down—down among the wolves fighting over the quivering body of the dog Death! CHAPTER VI. THE MUTINY. DAYLIGHT, when it broke, found Cecil Crane and his followers pushing through a rough forest of pine and hemlock. ; -_ ee, lc wD tO ee The party was guided by Red Loon, in whose tracks Nokomis the Upas trod with the noiseless tread of the panther. By and by the guide turned abruptly aside, and the ascent of a mountain began. Slowly up the steep sides the party toiled, and when the peak had been ed, a view, un- equaled in grandeur, burst upon their vision. ha Adirandarl CONNErY | in ite nrimitive wd. ness, lay aronnd them, its sheets of lsnd-locked teten ds its immense forests and towering eleva- ions. While the scene called forth exclamations of surprise and wonder from the whiter, the two Indians did not appear in the least affe- ted. ‘Fo them the sight was commonplace; they had wit- nessed it so often that no wonder cluny; to it, ‘‘Somewhere yonder is the hiddn lodge,” Red Loon said, with a circling sweep of his scar- let hand, as he turned to Cecil Crane, ‘ ‘The trails are long; they are dark; they lead to death!” : A slight pallor overspread the hunter’s face. ‘*Y am prepared for anything!” he said with an effort, ‘‘ Do not seek to discourage ne with an enumeration of the difficulties that wil! beset us. Let us put a truce to such things and plunge into the work at once,” ‘The Indians exchanged glances, and Nokomis nodded. ‘*Come!” he said, turning to Crane. ‘‘ There is something for the white man to see.” The tone in which the chief uttered his words and the look that accompanied them, startled Tarsus Nightwell. ‘* Hold jon, thar!” he cried, seizing the Upas as he was about to turn away. ‘‘I don’t want to see everything in these infernal mountains. I didn’t come hyar to hunt up every gp) ost-hole, but to find the lost gal. Blame me! if I goa, step, fur I know that you're goin’ to show u something awful. Take Mr. Crane with ye. IL kin hunt better if [ don’t see sartin things, per- rene , rane turned upon the giant with a look of mingled scorn and rage. . ‘‘T didn’t think you were so superstitious!” he said, scarcely able to bridle his ire. ‘‘ Cet out of that or we will never find our prey.” ‘¢ See hyar, Mr. Crane, ?m a man, I am!” was the retort. ‘By the jumpin’ jingo! I'l! do as I please; go whar I want. to, an’ stop when an’ whar I see fit. You'll wish yerself back in the city afore you're a week in this devil-land.. Me an’ Simon arn’t afeard of all the wolves an’ Injuns in creation, but when you bucl. us ag’in’ spooks an’ sich things, by the holy stars! we » must run when we think best.” | The girl hunter turned abruptly away. ‘‘Lead on, Nokomis. J will look at an thing;” and, with a look of almost fiendis scorn said to his white tools: ‘Stay here if you are afraid,” With meet looks and incoherent curses, which boded ill for the expedition, were the re- torts. The two giants remained standing in their tracks, while the Indians led Ceci! Crane around a ledge of whitened made ghastly by the SPS of some lifeless lichens, and dis- a ; : | re ey’re cowards at heart!” muttered the white man. ‘T heartily wish they would de- sert me. My red friends are not such fools.” Nokomis leading the way gradually veered to the left as if encircling the peak, The rocks now huge and bare rose about them, migh er sags of stone for the hand of nature artists. : All at once the Upas halted and turned upom the white. _ “Our white brother is cunning!” he, sai ad. , ‘He can read the signs in the sky and tell about . the rain and the sun. Can he read that? Cecil Crane saw the Indian pointing to a large rock upon whose side the rays of the morning sun were beating. It seemed abla with burnished gold; but a second look reveal- ed some rude lettering thereon, and, eager to see, Cecil Crane stepped aside to obtain a proper view. ' e rock towered for thirty feet above him, and there upon its bleached surface was the fol- lowing sentence: “‘ Death awaits Cecil Crane in the land of the hidden lodge!” ~ The Indians watched the workings of the white man’s countenance as he read the words sculptured in the rock. It became white as the snows that crowned — the crest of Whiteface, and he with quivering lip. | ‘Who did it?’ he cried, pointing to the rock. “Ask the Manitou!” was the reply. ‘Re Leon and Nokomis do not know.” ' ' oe 3 —e- 4 . : ~ * as arent ve (? ’ | - >. nal, ee a ~—e a | - . I) . - - ~~ . “._ 4% ‘ + BES | 5 - < ~ bed oa we ns : a - ‘ } n¢« Va > “st < «he “ Ani to “ P ot - i at A Pay as dun, ai — a! a een <. 7 rss lalel =- 5 . + Ou! —_