Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 119 — page 4: what you’re looking at

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

. Ine, they, must 7a’ s ~ © But; come; gear up. I don’t. count my 4. Mustang Sam, You must ’a’ turned aside.a_ good bit ago.;, The main trail’s,good ten mile from. this,” thought- fully replied Sam; then he started, a, recollec- tion breaking upon his mind. | “Thar! I’ve seen your frinds! They’re—or war—all of thirty miles. from here, an’ within a mile..o’ whar, I started up the; Apaches., .Qne feller waved,a blanket at me. _I didn’t know what, fer,, then, but I,do now... He. must..’a’ knowed the. Apaches, war jest. acrost the hill, an’ wanted to warn me,” | ‘Did you see her—were they. all there alive and safe?” | =~ o f tafe “ Her—thar warn’t any. wimmen. along, war thar?, .Wuss an’, wuss an’ more of, it. urn sech ff sls—they ain’t fit to. live anywhar but in the big cities!” ) ‘“My.daughter was one of .the party; and this man’s child, too,” replied the wagon boss yet. with a strained calmness that was unnatural and only the more plainly betrayed the anxiety at his, heart, : An’ you let her go? You Jook like you had more sense!” “We didn’t dream of danger. We hadn’t seen any sign’ of Indians for a _, week, past. Myer thing seemed qu‘et.” ‘‘ Jest the time you want to keep your eyes skinned the widest.” “Well, it is done, and .talking won’t help matters. But there may be yet time to save them. Stranger, will you guide me to where you saw them?” hurriedly asked the emigrant. ‘* Alone?”., ‘‘No—I know there will be plenty of volun- teers in such a cause. You hear, my lads. Will you ride with me to save our friends?” One or two Voices replied in the affirmative, but for the most part silence reigned, . The eyes of the emigrant flashed angrily. “T thought I led men, not cowards!” “Rasy, stranger — they’re right,, an’ you wrong. Tt’d take the hull lot. to ride through the Apaches, an’ then what’d come of the train? life any ‘better than the next man, but, won't lead you on no. such fool trip Then Pll go alone! . Curses on such cow- * An’ throw away, your own life, as well as knockin’ on the head, what, little chaince ‘your al has of escapin’.. D’you think the Apaches is foolst,. -Wouldn’t. they ; see, that it, waswt fer nothin’ common that you was leaving the train in the face o’ sech danger? ‘That’d set ’em look- in’ in the way, your face was set. An’ once they strike the trail of your gal, the devil him- self couldn’t choke.’em off afore, they ap eh her... No. Your. place is, here, to, help. defend the aig bP ' aa eet ‘ens pes Ry HEN sath ur in’ from . the; ’Patchies. Ir erin’ a rd : truck our trail...” You kin easy # Soap the rest,” reasoned Mustang Sam. tHe is right old ,friend,” said the. man indi- cated as the one whose child | Bd, BP left the brani _# «white-haired, venerable _ patriarch. ‘We can do nothing now; and our dear ones are in,the hands ofan all-wiso God!” ‘* Thar’s sound mtg er. AE said Mustang. | ’ ~ “show ye a better . 6, to withstand the Apaches than this. -Why Prine ¥ L the Ap an ~ - Of, his acquaintances, and he t _ ko0 good to be lost. His daughter E a ‘ ” And the fact of Thomas He Sate, deus hier Ellen, helped him to decide in dith’s favor ~ ey’d hey; to do. would be fo surround you here, an’ starve ye out. . Three mile furder on is good ,water, an’ plenty, grass, with “a-sound Sowa k DESIGOS Sf tie wreyel » peep es ‘The words of. the plainsman produced the de- sired. effect, and a few minutes later the wagon- train, was, moving steadily along over the the following. facts, from, Edward_ ‘Bland, the the, fatter bad beep trading at Santa’ # e., had been at Santa Fe wae the gold fever broke ‘ou ‘a Cae LL | or evera, year he .resisted the inclination “he felt to Be chanse #83 low, lothowic life for the one. whére a fortune might, be made in a single day ;, for such were thestoriés told of the fabu- lous, riches of FE] Dorado. - But a sudden and f. | disastrous blow deprived him of nine-tenths of his riches, and he resolved to put the rest into a couple of wagons and start overland for the es, A train was Delite Rene Up by several 6 thought Pas chance ith ‘would not consent to being left behind, and’ he ‘could Snot resist her pleadings, the Inst Of all iis loved ones, thaugh w e knew. that the. overland trail thick-strewn with danger and privation. taking with him Thus far the journey had been a monotonous one; BO h - the imps, theyll stand a good show of dusty level. And thén Mustang Sam bleknbd | ore ing had been seen of hostile, Indians. »-khey. were now on the western side of the a Sierra de Chuska, in the wild, almost barren country over which Fort Defiance stands remote sentry; the raiding-ground of four great and warlike tribes. On the north dwelt the Utes; the Navajoes‘on the west;-the Apaches on the south; and the Comanches, on the east. “The country. was broken with yawning. canyons, thousands of feet in depth. In places the scenery was grand—sublime, . The hand ‘of na~ ture had eclipsed the, grandest ‘conceptions of architectural man. This, too, was thé traditional land of the chil- dren of the sun; the'land of’ the Montezumas— of the mound-builders; the land where were to be found the remarkable. Casas Grandes. The night before, the wagon-train halted within sight of what seemed to be one of those mammoth ruins, and Edith Bland could not rest until assured that she should visit the. spot. With the first light of day, the little party set out on horseback, four in number: Edith and Ellen, accompanied by Captain Tom Day, an officer of the regular army, on extended leave, and Arthur Hamilton. The train moved slowly on, and the quartette were expected to rejoin it long before noon. At length growing uneasy at their protracted absence, the ruins having long been lost sight of, the wagon-train was halted. At this point Mustang Sam joined them, as narrated. “Hyar’s the place I meant,” at length cried Mustang, dismounting from the black stallion, that now followed his every step with the meek docility of a spaniel. A huge mass of granite stood upon the plain, gtay and bare. From its base gushed forth a spring of clear, cold water, forming a miniature pond, then flowing away, to be quickly ab- sorbed by the thirsty sands of the desert. Upon three sides the rock, or, in prairie parlance, the mesa, was perpendicular as the sides of a house. The fourth—that upon which was the Sea NN was several feet narrower at the base than the top. lies Tne wagons were drawn up in a double line, bending outward like a bow, either end ey firmly against the rock. Willing hands plie pick and shovel, and the wheels were let down into ruts cut for the purpose, until the axles rested on the ground. The dirt thus removed was used to form a breastwork along the barri- cade, behind which the emigrants could lie and fire upon the enemy, inside the corral; the mules securely tethered ‘without, as it was not likely the Apaches would wantonly slaughter them as long as a chance re- mained of their succeeding in capturing the train, as that would be but to rob themselves. -By the time these preparations were com- pleted the sun was low down the western hori- zon. As yet nothing had been seen of either friends or foes. If the Apaches hed indeed dis- ? covered the trail of the wagon-train, they were waiting for the shades of night to cover their approach. ‘Ef you’ll lend me your critter, Bland, an’ I kin git him over this, Pll take a ride out to see what kin be seen. I'll leave blackie as secur- ity,” laughed Mustang Sam, my Take him and welcome. Pray God that you ‘may learn something of my child,” earnestly replied the emigrant. ie , ‘Pray that they’ve kept to the hills, instead, fri’nd.. Jest as sure as they ventur’ out on the open afore night, they'll be. cabbaged by them devils. But ef they lay low ontel we’ve w ipped gi “Tf! But we may not whip them. You sa ‘there'wére fully one hundred of them.” An’ we're forty white men! Ef we can’t whip them, we don’t ought to live. But here ZOes; ack usk,” an ustang Sam g Pll be back by dusk,” and Mustang § eplloped swiftly AWAY. ; _** Good-by your hoss, boss,” growled the swart teamster., “I b’lieve he’s no better’na hoss-thief, fer all his fine airs.” OTT gladly lose the horse, if. I could only know that his story was all a lie; but I feel itis the truth,” gloomily responded Bland. pao 1) homre dragzed. woasly suonen, te the anxiously-waiting emigrants; and as the sun Sui et and the shades of night fast deep- aia rer, picion gradually gained ground. . “But? = Whe diet by the return of Mus- tang Sam, at length. . 4 mod ' e said that he had taken the back trail to- the point where he had first joined then . followed 1 n he had found where the Apaches had abruptly struck over to the wagon-trail. By close creep- ing, leaving his horse hidden in a ravine, he had reconnoitered the bivouac of the Apaches. the train, The horses were fastened |" attempt at aim futile. ing of rifles and _ determined and deadly and clubbed rifles, and, when ound them, without. bringing the stran- - up his own tracks. From ‘this* Though beyond ear-shot, he knew from their actions that they meant to attack the wagon- train before another sun rose, They were re- newing the charcoal, chalk and vermilion upon their bodies, and carefully looking to their wea- pons. ‘“Let ’em come!” he said, grimly. ‘* They’ll go back ’th a flea in ther ear—at least, some 0’ them. We kin flax ’em easy. All we have to do is to lay low an fire close.” With such words of careless confidence he nerved the few faint-hearted ones, until even they appeared ready and eager for the fray. But long and tedious hours of waiting were be- fore them. The moon ‘sunk behind the mesa, the four- footed animals dozed placidly at their posts, and still the enemy did not come. The more inex- perienced emi ts began passing their jokes and jibes, as they lay in the moon ditch. But Mustang Sam only smiled quietly. He knew that the hour was ny if he drawing nigh when all this would be changed. ‘“Thar’s somethin’ creepin’ up, out thar— either a coyote or a red-skin,” muttered Sweat- man, the surly teamster. “You’ve got good eyes, my man,” said Mus- tang Sam, approvingly. ‘It’s a two-legged coyote, and hot for hair. Mebbe he’ll getshaved hisself, instead o’ shavin’ us.” Drawing his knife, Mustang silently writhed his way through the barricade, and stealthily glided toward the creeping figure. He saw it Seek ecldctonnen and knew that he was discov- ered, thout hesitating a moment, Mustang veered slightly to one side, his face turned par- tially away from the shadow, though witha a sidelong glance his keen eyes took in every mo- tion of the spy. The Apache evidently believed himself unseen, and closely hugged the ground as Mustang glided on. Then, with a sidelong leap, Sam alighted fair- ly upon the red-skin’s shoulders, driving his head deep into the aa sand. Andthe next mo- ment the long-bladed knife was crimsoned in the Indian’s heart’s blood. But swift and deadly as was the blow, a half- stifled death-shriek burst from the red-skin’s lips, breaking the silence with a horrible distinct. ness. And like echoes, the thrilling war-cry of the Apaches followed, until the desert seemed filled with demons thirsting for blood. “Steady, lads—an’ give ’em ge-lory!” yelled Mustang Sam, as he darted back to the corral. **“Don’t waste your lead—thar’ll be chainca a-plenty fer each one, afore the night’s out!” elling madly, the Apaches charged around the mesa upon either side, within a dozen spear- lengths before being visible. Then a line of fire ran along the barricade. At such close quar- ters, the result could not be otherwise than deadly, despite the gloom that rendered all 3 The shrieks and cries of the dying were added to the charging yell, the heavy thud and confused a F 0 the half-tamed mustangs’ hoofs, the spiteful crack- e sbrill twanging of bow- grt Still, though checked for a moment by the resistance, so much more determined than what they had antici- pated, the Apaches were not repulsed. Utter. ing anew their yells, they urged their mustan against the barricade, and then leaped bodily jt the wagon-tops, evidently resolved to end the matter by one desperate assault, But the ae to encounter enemies well worthy the As the dusky fiends sought to scale the barri- cade of wagons, they were met with pistol-shots possible, with knife-thrusts. Did they strive to penetrate or remove the dirt and sand that choked up the 2 ia between the wheels, they were met in a @ manner with an adroitness that caused ‘Many a death yell to mingle with the confused medely of sounds that converted the little corral into a living Pandemonium. The furious onslaught; the deadly repulse; the cracking of pistols and rifles, the louder de- tonation of carbines; the deadly whistling of bullets aud hurling of arrows; the clash of li the wild yells of one, the hoarse cheers of the other; the blood-curdling war-whoop; the stifled cry of imprecation as a foeman’s weapon ierced the sensitive flesh, with now and then a |} dull thud that, once heard, can never be asso- ciated with anything else, as some human form falls dead to its mother earth; the moans and groans of the mortally wounded, as they lie writhing upon the ground, beneath the reck- lessly-trampling feet of the combatants; the stentorian orders of the leaders; the yells of baffled hatred and tramp of the retiring foe: Eomicboo “Ss (E@)