Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 146 — page 6: what you’re looking at

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

——_ C—O - ~ a ee a TTT woods like an angry pack of wolves. Putting spur the Boy Knight pushed on through the village west- ward. Before him lay an open level expanse of meadow, flooded with the mellow moonlight. The savages seeing the course he had taken, began to be hey out to the right to head him off; and the cr: of firearms now was aided to the direful sound of savage lungs. Lead whistled over and around the young horseman thick as hail. But he was not destined to escape unpunished this time. A bullet struck his ankle, inflicting a serious and painful wound. Theshock paralyzed his whole leg, and it was only by a desperate effort that he succeeded in sa his seat in the saddle. * Oh by heavens!” he exclaimed, asthe pain shot through is body, forcing a groan from his lips, “ ve ot it at last, ard got it badly, too. I'd ought to ave known better than to come back here into this hornets’ nest. I believe my leg is shot off. On, Prince, my good old horse; the red demons are mountin’ and pursuin’ us!” He was now on an open plain, but a belt of timber lay a short distance before him, and straight toward the nearest point he held his way. Almost on the very margin of the woods the ani- mal came to a sudden stop, nearly pitching his wounded rider forward over head. “Another confounded blunder!’ exclaimed the boy, for before him ran a deep, yawning rift that he had never thought of before, yet knew was there. He glanced back—to the right and left. Mounted Savages were coming rapidly across the opening. He was ina dangerous predicament. He could not escape by swimming the river, for the banks he knew were high and precipitous, The rift was be- fore him, and the approaching savages now com- pleted the environing circle, cube seemed im- possible, and capture would be certain death. Before him a tree had been felled so as to span the channel. The top side of this log had been hewn away to a flat surface over twelve inches in width. This had been used by the Indians as a foot-log, and the sight of it suggested a means of escape to the daring young knight. But he was wounded, as he believed, so that he could not walk. The only way he could effect his escape was by deserting his horse and dragging himself along upon his hands and knees the best he could, A moment's reflection, however, convinced him that he could never cludo the savages by this means, and all hope had faded from his breast, when out of the darkness of the woods i the opposite side of the chasm, a voice cried out: “*Dismount, boy, and cross on the log!” It was the voice of Old Arkansaw. “‘Tean’t, Arkansaw; one of my legsis shot off, I guess,’’ was the boy’s cool response, ‘Oh, great Babylon !—boy, they'll abolish youl See! they’re comin’ a thousand million sérong! My God, Silver Star! what are you goin’ to do, boy?” The lad had turned his horse’s head and was urg- ing it toward the chasm. ‘*I’m goin’ to ride over on this log, Arkansaw, or die in the attempt,” replied the boy; “steady, Prince, steady.” “Farewell then, brave boy, farewell!” groaned the old plainsman, as he saw the trained horse, obe- ciont to its master’s will, place its fore feet upon the narrow bridge and then with a spring plant the others close behind them. He saw the horse, with nock extended and form quivering over the preci- pice, take one step; but he saw no more, for he urnued his head to shut out the scene that followed. CHAPTER VI, AN INTRUDER IN CAMP. Onp ARKANSAW heard the sound of the horse's hoofs tr the log, and heard it snorting with af- frieht; he heard the voice of his young friend speak- ing words of command and aS eee to his horse—he heard the wild screams of the approach- ing savages—all, seemingly, blended in one awful horrible sound that numbed his very senses, anc transfixed him with fear and terror. His heart seemed to rise in his throat, and a dreadful, choking eensation followed. They were the pangs and burn- ines of the most painful suspense that man could sulfer; andgt seemed as if they would never end, Everything was on a blinding whirl about the old winter. “Come, Arkansaw,*’ suddenly exclaimed a voice, and a horseman swept past him. The spell was broken. It was the voice of Silver Star—the Boy Knight was safe! He had safely_rid- den his horse over the chasm upon the footlog—per- formed a miracle! The old hunter started up, gave utterance to a yell of joy, and putting spur, dashed away after the fearless boy. Dumb with astonishment, the red-skins a upon the edge of the chasm. Thena cry of baffled triumph bursts from their throats, A few dismoun and running across upon the log, start in pursuit o the Boy ght. Away through the forest sped the two scouts. They followed the river a few miles, when they finally rode into the stream and crossed to the op- posite shore. Continuing on, they soon reached camp, when Silver Star was assisted from his horse and his wound examined, It was found that the ball had struck his ankle, in- flicting a very painful, but not dangerous wound. The whole foot and leg had been completely para- » lyzed by the shock; but this grad wore off, leaving the sense of pain more acute. Captain Barns dressed the wound as well as means at command would permit; and recommended a uent application of cold water to allay the pain and fever. Already the soldiers had taken the necessary pre- cautions to guard against a surprise by the Indians, Besides the four guards stationed at as many dif- ferent points, the location selected for a camp possessed t natural advantages asa defensive position. It was guarded upon one side by the river and then nearly surrounded by a horse-shoe shaped ea | of water upon the other sides, thus pan be kind of a peninsula that could be reached only by way of a narrow neck of land. The pentane was about five acres in area—a low, sandy tract of land covered with tall, dense timber, and strewn with driftwocd and debris, for the place was subject to overflows during high water. In the very center of this point had the soldiers lighted a camp-fire; and after the return of Arkan- saw and Silver Star, and the wound of the latter had been dressed, and the story of their adventures nar- rated, all seated themselves around the fire and en- gaged in a quiet conversation. Thus an hour had a) ait when suddenly a shrill strange voice pierced through the solemn stillpess of the place and started soldier and scout to his feet. The tramp of feet and the cracking of dry brush was heard, and a moment later one of the guards came into camp, escorting as queer-looking a crea- ture as it had been their lot to look upon in many a day; and what was most strange, the person was a ee an—a white woman, well on tow fifty years of age. She was dressed in a garb as odd and outlandish as her general appearance. Her dress was made of some heavy, coarse material of a dirty brown color. It was scant in breadth and in length, and just reached to the tops of a pair of number-seven army shoes, Over this dress she wore a pea-green jacket em- broidered with red, and trimmed with rows of dif- ferent-colored beads. Upon her head was a great, flaring bonnet thas rose and fell like elephants’ ears with each nod and motion of the head. Upon one arm she carried a small beaded sachel which ap- peared to be well filled; and in her right hand she carried a great, heavy and clumsy-looking umbrella that seemed to be the worse of long usage. “Well, by the Holy Jerusalim!” exclaimed Old Arkansaw, as his eyes fell upon the form of the jair stranger; “what under the moon and shinin’ stars have you found, Rathbone?” * A woman,” replied the half-mortified soldier. * Yes, a woman!" — shrieked the female, with blazing eree, wore she shook her big umbrella over Arkansaw’s head in a threatening manner—‘“‘ a poor, sad-hearted and lonely woman—the wreck of former beauty, the victim of man’s imperfidy and incon- stancy—the relic of as owdashus an old scoundrel as led an innocent, confidin’ gal to the hyenial altar. That's who I am.” ** By the dancin’ dervishes!”’ Le ges Arkansaw “it seems to me I've see’d you before, ole lady. Isn't your name Bandy—Mrs.—” “Yes, yes!’ she screamed, her whole frame set a-quiver, it seemed, by mention of the name Bandy; “my name is Ellen Sabina Bandy—the wronged, de- sarted and injured wife of that owdashus, ungrate- ful vagabone, Christopher Columbus Bandy.” “or t's it edzactly;, I see’d you years ago down in Nubraska. Yes, gentlemen and soldiers, this is the relic of old Kit , Of whom I war tellin’ you yesterday.” ‘ Yes, and please ious, I'll relic him when I git hands on him again!’ added the woman. “I'll put a stop to his rumagin’ around over this hemisfear fike agay young courtier. I'll pluck his eyes out like a ture—oh, you may laff and laff at a helpless wo- man till your diaframs rips wide open, but when you've suffered as /’ve suffered, you'll know how to sympathize with me. Not one mother’s brat of you'd suffer half what I have, and keep your youth and beauty. Oh! but I'll make that ole vagabone smart like pepper when I meet hin again! He promised, at the hyenial altar, to love, cherish and protect me till death did us part; and I’m detarmined to hold him in the breachin’ with a square rein. He shall never lavish his hypocritical smiles and gallantries on any other female that ever wore hair—no, ever “P’r’aps, Mrs. Bandy,” suggested Old Arkansaw, “if you'd smooth your feathers, and curb your con- versational powers, when the old man’s about, he'd remain with you. [I reckon as what you go for him like jagged lightnin’.”’ - gracious preachers! hav'n't I melted myself into all smiles and sweetnesses and lovelinesses all for that ungrateful critter? And how, gentlemen, did he reward me? Why, it was tryin’ to murder me,"’ and her voice fell to a whisper; ‘ Pe tried to murder mé |’ she again broke fo with violent ges- tures, “ by puttin’ a burr under my horse’s tail one day when I started for a ride.” “T'll bet you got even with him,” said Arkansaw. “Please ous I did, old covey! One day, when he was n’' his noon nap on a blanket under a tree on the banks of the Yuba, I brought the of the blanket together and sewed him up in it with a big stone at his feet. Then I rolled the old cavalier into the river—he! he! he!—and by means of a rope attached to the blanket, I let him down, then hauled him to then ker-soused him under again; and in this way I made him beg like a hungry Italian, He promised to love me, to obey me to be my own slave, to die for me if necessary to—" . Did keep his promises?” interrupted the old sooud. “No!” she shrieked; “not a single, lonely one of them, the false, deceptive heathen! And it nearly me when I think of my galhood days when that owdacious critter come a-courtin’ of me so gay, with his pockets full of sweetmeats, and his tongue drippin’ with nice poetry. Oh, what a fool I was! But I war young and handsome, the neighbors said, and every feller in the country cou my smiles, } Foolish girl, I were; I sailed over a flower-bed and litin a mud-puddle when I tcok ole Kit Bandy for better or worse.” * What does aoe husband follow, Mrs. Bandy ?’’ asked Captain Barns, with a suppressed smile. “Everything under the shinin’ sun, but mostly a nose bigger your fist, He’s been a preacher and a wood-chopper, a doctor and a h ver, a lawyer and a bullwhacker, a judge and a robber, and now pretends, I understand, to be a scout and a detective. But a purty scout and detective he'd make! If J detect him, I'll bet he'll get a scoutin’ he don’t want. He’s been tryin’, for years, to toll me off into the Ingin country thinkin’ I'd git skalped, or a robber 'd steal me for his bride; but, please gra- cious, | find the Ingins respect a white woman's beauty and virtue, so that I've been an_ honored guest wherever I went, whether ‘mong Ingins or robbers. Ive been even offered a home one | the red-skins, and but yesterday that noble chief, White Crane, offered to make me a queenif I'd say the word. But I would not percept of the honor till vengeance is mine own. Oh, that the blessed day will soon come when I, Ellen Sabina Bandy, as queen of the great West, can look down with im- perial ity upon ole Kit Columbus mae Tk ail elin’ in the dust at them feet beggin’ to kiss em of my royal robe!” “You're too revengeful toward your husband, Mrs. Bandy,” said one of the soldiers. “‘Heaven forbid,” answered the woman, seatin herself upon a great, hollow log, and rocking herself to and fro as if to nurse her wrath and sorrows. She remained silent for some time, then she took a small slip of paper from her sachel and rey Bg over, crushed it in her hand with a spiteful hiss. What she finally did with the paper no one knew, but she ae th of it in a strange, sly manner, ** Well, . Bandy,” said Captain Barns, “ it is but my duty asa soldier and a gentleman to offer you the hospitalities of our camp. We will do the best we can to make you comfortable.” “Oh, I thank you,” responded the woman, in a lower tone. “Ican’t tarry. I heard you were down here, and so I come down to inquire if you had seen any thing of my lost darlin’, Kit Columbus Bandy. I must return to-night to the Indian town; I promised I would.” , ‘Well, we have seen or heard nothing of your husband.” “ Haven't! Well, I'll live onin hopes. My day’ come yet.” “Then you come and go among the Indians at ial ‘** Yes; I've a passport to and from the Ingin village. It was given me by that noble chief, White e. “Have yg any idea that your old tulip, Kit Bandy, is in this country?” inquired Old Arkansaw. ** Yes, I have a purty strong idea that way; Isee’d the track of a white man ‘long the river t’other day that looks adzactly like that old blister’s track. Whenever you see a track that looks like the a gine of an elephant’s hoof, and follow it up, you'll find old Kit Bandy at the end of the trail.” , “Well, now look here, Mrs. Bandy,” said Silver Star, rising to his feet, and hobbling over to where the old woman sat; “I’m scoutin’ around through the country a deal of a sight, and I might be of come service to you upon condition you assist me a ttle.” ** Well, I'll do any thing in my power for you, son, if you'll jist watch out for my 2d blister, and report when you find him.” *T'll do so; and now I want to ask a one gues: — Emin a young girl in the Indian village—a captive?’ - None to my knowin’s; and if there'd been an I'd a-knowed it, rest assured. If there’s a gal lost, like as not when you find her you'll find old Kit Bandy with her tryin’ to make her believe he’s a gay young soul, and that he loves her unto death, and that she ought to reciprocate. But, please gracious, them vial old eyes and that big, gator mouth, and them jack-mule’s ears, and them old gutters on his face "ll not let bim deceive another young, beautiful and innocent pal—no, never /”’ and she punctuated her remarks by driving the end of her umbrella into the sand at her feet. A moment’s silence ensued, and as no one seemed disposed to ask Sabina any further questions, she took a cla pipe and seme tobacco from her sachel. Filling the pipe, she advanced to the fire and taking up a red-hot coal in her fingers, laid it upon the pipe and began puffing vigorously, and in oe her face was Fost behind a cloud of smoke, «¢4.2vOW, Men and soldiers,” she finally remarked, I'm goin’ to departure, and, please ious, I hope you will not forgit a wronged and injured wo- man. If you can give me any information that’l! lead to the recovery of Kit Bandy, you shall be liberally rewarded—if not on earth, in heaven. So now -night, folks. So aon > ane turned and started happily away, pues at her pipe and balancing her big Stishrefic upon her hands with remarkable skill. “Tl be etarnally blessed if that isn’t a kind o’ folks we don’t often see ‘round (his kentry!” ex- claimed Old Arkansaw,. Tag eas ents wre of eas. Maes om ‘ ; ested silver Star, seriously. “I don't‘like the looks of : pe old Kit Bandy out as a husband, I tell you he’s a lorious old hoss to stand in the harness ag po around, and I'd like to bump aginst him in these diggin’s. I met him several years ago down Geom - Echooks:eoim)