Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 119 — page 3: what you’re looking at

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

, ; | —_ grassless plain, a long line of dust marking its progress, To the left, this level plain, almost a desert, extended as far as the naked eye could reach. To the ap several miles away, the ground grew rough and broken, fantastic piles rising in wild confusion, one overtopping the other, some loomy, Others beautiful, not a few gigantic urlesques. This was the country that bordered the San Juan. Already half a dozen miles had been traversed by the wild king, and now Mus Sam. found himself close upon. the heels of the mustenos. Here within reach of his lasso were a score of untamed beauties, any of them well wortha cast of the horse-hair rope; but the hunter well knew that-he had his hands full already. If he succeeded in breaking the black stallion, that would be sufficient for one day. With neighs and snorts of terror, the mus- tangs broke and scattered upon either side, evi- dently not recognizing their leader in this strangely deformed racer, Mustang Sam cast one anxious glance behind him; he had. not time for.more. He saw that Comanche. was coming antly on; though full.a quarter of a mile in erear. He seemed to have eyes only for his master in. front. The stallion began to chafe and falter in its meestOns course, eying the mustangs as they scattered before him, Then, with a sudden, ecereng leap, it changed its course. The stifling bow-stall tightened, the quis descended upon its flanks with the crack ofa pistol. the huge spurs, pressed rankling into its ribs. Screaming oud, with pain, rage and terror, the stallion once, more bounded forward. ‘At the p'int ahead I reckon I kin manidge him,” muttered Mustang Sam, calculatingly. Half a dozen miles ahead was the point alluded to. Here the high ground, irre and jagged, sent a sharp spur far owt into the plain; a. pro- montory, stretching into the sea of the desert. From its extreme point, one standing upon the crest could drop a stone to the plain, five hun- dred feet below. Nearer and nearer, until the j ged points and yawning seams in the rocks could be quite plainly seen, and still the stallion gave no token of tiring, but glided on with the same .marvel- ously swift steadiness. And a mile in the,rear came Comanche, no doubt astonished, yet .un- conquered. A little cry breaks from the lips of the mad rider, and with one hand , he shades his eyes peering eagerly toward the stupendous piles o rocks. Distinctly outlined against the. gray masses, he could now see a number of human beings mounted upon horseback. One. of them a to be waving a blanket at him; but oe a point of rock shut them from hi sight. ei Who in thunder kin they be up thar? They must be ridin’ mounting goats, Lreckon. Whites, too, it looked like—” The soliloquy was abruptly broken, an un- conscious curse parting the hunter’s li He had rounded the point of rocks, but further ad- vance seemed certain death, The road was bloeked; the obstacle nearly a hundred mounted Apache warriors, in the full glory of nt, feathers and helmets, their lance-points glisten- ing ominously in the sunlight, ere was no time for deliberation; one had to act as if by instinct, Even had_ the stallion attempted it, he could not have halted or turned aside before coming into collision with the In- dians. This, however, it did not attempt. Terror and ae had rendered it mad, and stretched out like a race-horse, it carried Mus- tang Sam blindly into the midst of his enemies, It was evident that the paahes were fully as surprised as our friend, e dust_ and sand of the prairie had deadened the sound of hoof- py With confused cries they separated to the right and left, giving way before the mad vider, evidently believing him the leader of a desperate band of like warriors. After one ineffectual twitch upon the bow- stall, Mustang Sam cnerpen the coiled lasso be- neath his knees, and whipped forth a revolver in either hand. He knew that he must escape or die. The Apaches would show him no mercy. saa poowestates up against his name was too long It was.a. thrilling that one man charg- ing Epon fully: one. huneined thoroughly armed Apaches, and seemed certain death. The re- volvers spoke rapidly, Mustang not attempting to. take aim, and, indeed, in those densely crowded masses, there was little need, .A bullet could scarcely fail of finding its billet there, and seas a tad ells were added to the panorama. wild, neigh from beyond the hill | Mustang Sam. point served to confirm the suspicions of the Apaches, and, with a yell of warning, they pre- pared for the collision, scarce heeding the horse- man as he tore through their ranks, marking his passage with blood. A moment later Comanche burst round the point, and with a wild neigh charged after his master. At nearly the same moment a warrior gained a point from which the plain below was visible, and his yell told the Apaches the truth; that no other enemies were wi sight. They were bewildered, confused, and thus Mustan Sam escaped immediate death or its equivalen —capture. Resistlessly the black stallion tore through the Apaches, and aided by the death-dealin revolvers, soon gained the open plain beyond. The firing, the horrible yells and screeches, added to what had gone before, fairly mad- dened the stallion. ith redoubled speed he ran on, straight and true as the flight of a rifle- bullet, swift as the passage of a wild pigeon. He was now entirely beyond the hunter’s con- trol. During the brief skurry with the Apaches, while both Mustang’s hands were occupied with the pistols, the noose around the stallion’s nose shaken free, and only the head-stall re- mained, As well hope to stay a prairie fire with bonds of grass, as to check the mad horse with, that. Yet it could not be said that Mustang Sam felt fear, as. he realized this, for such asentiment was foreign to his nature. From childhood he had played with,death,.and it had no terror for him. He exulted in danger, loving it for its own sake; the excitement was necessary to his life; and as he heard the yells of the Apaches, he laughed, recklessly, turning his head and glancing back. He saw Comanche Hghting furiously in the midst of the war-party, biting and kic with deadly force, screaming with rage and fury at being kept from his master; and then he saw the snake-like coils of a dozen lassoes, as the noble brute was thrown heavily to the errand, and a bitter curse hissed through his teeth “ Il make ’em sick for that, or my name ain’t Mustang Sam!” he gritted, angrily. ‘“‘ They’re follerin’ us. Wal, let’em. I’d run a race with the lightnin’ on this critter!” Even with the hard and exhausting fight, the long race that the stallion had already under- Sam believed that he could dis- ne, Mu nce the f st animal among the A es, Still an accident might change t of af- ea fairs, and none knew this better, than he. His hae a eye engin out me sere aN ee swa body one side com 8 stallion my follow his wishes to i balance. And thus fora full hour tinued. At the end of that time the Apaches were mere specks in the distance, tho evidently stillin pursuit. The black horse still raced on, apparently as rapidly as at first, and Mustang Sam almost began to doubt whether this crea- was not more than mortal—whether it was not the far-famed ‘‘ phantom steed of the prairies,” that forms such a prominent. topic around the camp-fires of the mountain men. Such s and endurance were incredible in an animal of. mere flesh and blood. Mile after mile was swiftly traversed, and the black hide of the horse was now white with foam and sweat. The A es were no longer visible; they were left far in the rear, if, in- reserve its © race con- deed, they had not long since abandoned ‘the pursuit as hopeless. Mustang Sam began to grow uneasy. Like all men w life is mostly in solitude, he.-was superstitious. The wild fancy that this ban indeed the fabulous steed, became more The lasso was _ useless as far as the head-stall was concerned, but_ Mustang doubled the slack and thus formed a noose, which he cast over the animal’s head. Then, bracing himself, he pulled steadily. Almost insensibly the ani- “so speed slackened. The noose was choking So busily had Mustang Sam been employed inthis that when he glanced up a cry of as- tonishment broke from his np Scarce a mile distant he could Sasnion Sup 6 clumsy forms and white tilts of a number of wagons; evidently & wagon-train. These had halted, and Mustang could distin- ha number of men running to and fro as if confusion. Despite his fatigue he smiled grimly, and resolved to astonish the natives. ““T’ll make ’em open thar eyes wider’n that,” he muttered, as he slackened the noose. ‘I kin wag eg the critter well enough fer that, I reckon. —- ~~. re ee And bending forward, he uttered a wild yell close to the ear of the foam-covered animal. Like an arrow it darted forward. CHAPTER II. HORNETS OF THE PRAIRIE, SwWarYIneG his body to one side as he neared the wagon-train, Mustang Sam caused the stal- lion to circle round the white-tilted vehicle, and then went through all the tricks and feats of the Apache and Comanche Indians, exhibiting a skill that was fairly marvelous, considering that he rode a horse without either saddle or bridle. The emigrants followed his every mo- tion with wondering eyes, until Mustang pulled up the now completely exhausted and subdued ee animal, “Ef you’re through with your tomfoolery stranger, mebbe you'll come in an’ tell us what the devil you’re drivin’ at,” quietly called out a grizzled teamster. ‘* Houp-la !” yelled Mustang Sam, urging his horse once more around the train, yelling and screeching like a mad Apache; then, pausing before the teamster, he lightly sprung to his feet upon the black stallion. ** You ax who I be. I’m Mustang Sam, the high muck-a-muck of B Plaribus Unum! I was ot by a bull whale out o’ a iceberg. I kin yell ouder, run furder, ride faster, shoot straighter jump higher, tell bigger lies, eat more poor pull an’ jump outside 0’ more chain-lightnin’ than any other two-legged critter as was €ver pupped. I’m the man what swum up the Big Kenyon of the Colorado, on my back. I'm the critter what, climbed up a greased rainbow an’ bit the highest p’int off o’ the new moon. T’ni Mustang — how goes it, stranger?’ Abruptly terminating his gasconading, the hunter leaped to the ground and advanced toward the wagon, a pleasant smile upon his face. Although a few eyed him with evident cin pent the majority crowded around him with eager curiosity. “You are welcume, stranger, though you make your appearance in rather astrange style,” said the leader of the wagon-train—a handsome, stalwart man in the prime of life. ‘‘ ve jest been taming me a new horse. He’s tuck me nigh seventy-five miles’ sence stoppin” to breathe. Jest look at him. _Ain’t he a per- fect pictur’? and Mustang Sam cast an admir- ing ce toward the black stallion, who stood motionless as though carved stone, though the lasso hung free and unsecured. ‘“Indeed he’s a beauty; but you’y ridden him hard.” “TI had to do it. He had the devil in im, bigger’n a woodchuck, Then J run dslap-bang into a hornet’s nest on the road. An’ that makes me think—what’s up that you're stoppin’ here! Waitin’ for the Apaches to come a’ter your aur it ‘“* We're waitin’—yes, but not for the Apaches. Some of our company rode away to the hills, onder, and have not yet returned,” replied the eader, with a, troubled air. me. -won’t see ‘em hire this day, ean uc ou ever see ‘em ag’in,” tersely a Mustang Sans | ’! ‘What do you mean—what do you know of them?” cried the emigrant, his bronzed face turning a shade paler, “The Apaches won't let ’em. No—I don’t mean that, They ain’t ketched yit as I know on, but they will be if they "tempts to j’ine you in daylight. A horned frog couldn’t pass the red S now, unseen. It’s rough, but that’s the trufh, st i. ‘“*Mebbe you know more’n you keer to tell,” muttered a stout teamster, suspiciously. ‘‘'The say thar’s more’n one white devil as consorts wi’ the ’Patchies.” “T know that I went through what'd made you shake your toe-nails off with fear, Beauty,” sneered Mustang agin filling with a danger- ous fire. ‘‘But Pll te ou, stranger, for you look like a white-man. You see ] eri ped this critter, an’ backed it at once. He fit ard and kerried me a long way. On the road herunme * slap-bang into a full hundred Apaches, rigged ont j in thar war-paint, [I couldn’t dodge ’em, so drawed my pups an’ went in fer all I’s worth. I dropped two or three, then blackie kerred me clean through ’em. They follered, but couldn’t shine th us. The last I'see o’ them, they were still a-follerin’. Mebbe they air vit, meébbe they’ve giv’ it up as a bad job. But either Ma , be sure o’ this—nobody cain’t leave them hills on this side to-day an’ not be ei up by them imps. Now you know what I meant,” “Do you think wey Ors after the train?” ey’re loungin’ "| th trail, loekin’ fer some sech snap, Paen' eo COMME OOO] KS 7a)