Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 146 — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

—— i a Si ver Star, he Boy SS - an on the Ree-publican; and I tell you we had a rol- | they seized their weapons, tightened their belts and lockin’ g time. ut, somehow ’r other, I hearn he’d been skinned alive by the Ingins and ed, and so I never thought any more about him, than that a brave ole soul had gone to rest—harkee!"’ The shrill, piercing voice of Sabina came to the ears of all; and listening to her words they found she was giving the guard, upon the riverside, a sound blessing for daring to challenge her and re- fusing to allow her to pass the lines. But their pas- sage of words soon ended, and our friends at camp were momentarily expecting the woman back to re- ade the guard, when to their surprise the guard imself appeared in great excitement. ‘*Oaptain,’’ he exclaimed, “what for an infernal old witch was that you allowed to leave camp?” The soldiers roared with laughter. They saw their comrade was perplexed, em sed. “Why, Carlford, she was an innocent woman,” explained the captain; “‘an innocent, harmless old woman.” “Innocent woman! well, at any rate she’s got a tongue equal to forked lightnin’; and what’s more, boys, sbe’s a witch.” “Bah! that’s bosh, Carlford,”’ said the captain, re- provingly. ‘Bosh, or no bosh, captain, that woman, defying my challenge and threats, deliberately walked down to the water’s edge, and walked out upon the stream /”’ A general laugh ensued. ‘**] care not what you say, that woman walked out across the river upon the water! I saw her on the open moonlit water. Her feet seemed surrounded by a dark nimbus, and of this Iam certain. The current bore hér down-stream several rods before she disappeared in the shadows of the opposite shore. I'll swear to it if it is my last words on earth!” As Carlford was known to be a brave and truthful soldier, his story, so firmly persisted in, created no little excitement among his friends. It was too late, however, to make any further investigations of the matter, and so quiet was once more restored in camp. About midnight the guards were changed, and those off duty concluded to lay down and e afew hours’ sleep and rest. Silver Star’s wound had ceased to pain him, and he soon fell asleep. Old Arkansaw was the last to lie down, and when he did, all the rest were asleep. He was of a large blue blanket with the figure of a ferocious tiger worked in the center in red, and an eagle with outspread wings in eash corner. La own upon the dry sand, with his head in the hollow of his sad- dle, he drew this highly-prized blanket over him and went to sleep. The fire burned down, and the low, damp air of the peninsula e heavy and chill. made the sleepers a little restless, but none of them awoke. Old Arkansaw tossed and floundered around more than his companions. Finally he awoke to find him- self uncovered. He felt for his blanket, but he could not find it. He rose to a sitting posture and found it was gone—had been remov He gianced around him, and to his rise and indignation saw his blue blanket with its eagles and couchant tiger, rolled and wrapped carefully around a form on the opposite side of the fire. ‘* Well, T'll be yam frend everlastin’ly abolished! If that don’t beat all the infernalated cheek and im- pudence that [ ever dreampt of. I never s’ a soldier could be ilty of such meanness,” solilo- quized the old borderman, his face wrought with the hard lines of indignation; ““a man, that ‘u’d steal the only blanket off a sleepin’ man, and then oy lay down by his side and roll himself in it, as that ho done, would cut a dead man’s throat to steal the coppers off his eyes. That dastardly trick is a dis- race to the uniform of the narrow-souled wretch hat wears it, cussed ifitar’n’t.” ** Arkansaw, it is not a soldier,”’ said a voice at the old man’s side—the voice of Silver Star—who, awakening from his slumber, had overheard the old looked carefully to the priming of their fire-arms. When all were ready for the worst, Old Arkansaw advanced to the side of the apparently sleeping intruder, and taking hold of the edge of his blanket, ulled it upward with all his —o strength. e form was set rolling by this movement, and Knight. resulted in a man being tossed out upon the sand in | full view of all. And a queer-looking specimen of humanity it was. He was tall and angular, with ill-proportioned limbs and with a bullet head set upon a long, scraw- ny neck. Large ears, a prominent nose, a wide mouth and small gray eyes were some of the natur- al appendages of his features—all of which seemed to have been placed upon the head and face of the wrong man, and were ry ee sizes too large for the face they ornamented. serio-comical smile rest- ed upon the man’s countenance, and as he rose to a sitting posture and gazed in feigned bewilderment around him, he exclaimed, in an indignant tone: **Dimnition! What in the name of the great Mo- 1 does this mean, anyway? Horn of old Joshua! an’t a man take a quiet rest? Can’t a weary soul lay down and sleep without bed-bugs or pirates rou- tin’ him? Hav’n’t you fellers got a smiggin of man- ners? Well, I’ve a notion to get up and maul the stuffin’ outen every mother’s brat of you, confound your or—”" ‘By the stars above us!” burst from the lips of Old Arkansaw. ‘Well, now, what ails you, old reel-legged per- simmon knocker?” asked the intruder, turning upon Arkansaw. “It’s old Kit Bandy, as I’m a livin’ beauty!” re- sponded the scout. “Oh, horn that tumbled old Jericho!” replied the veritable Kit Bandy, for he the intruder proved to be, as he to his feet, and extended his horny hand; * if I hav’n’t met my pious old friend, Arkan- saw Abe! Give us your paw, Arky, you old skinflint you! Dog my cats, if 1 knowed it war you when I ropriated your blanket—not a bit of it, Arky. Weil, bless my old optics! You're still aboard o’ the reat lifeboat, ar’n’t ye? You're the same old Ar- Canbew Traveler, ar’n’t ye? Ugly as you war the day _— war born, ar’n’t ye? Older’n you war whenI see’d ye last, ar’n’t ye? Crows ’s been trackin’ ar’n’t they? Well, well, Arky,’’ and the us again shook the scout’s hand. es, I'll admit all this, Kitsie, and that I’m werful glad to squeeze your phalanges and me- les pew replied Arkansaw; ‘ but I must confess that your youth and Adonis-like beauty is ittin’ some’at marred by the wear and tear of ime.”’ “IT know all] that, Arky, and more too; but you must remember that I'm a married man; and if you know anything "bout married life, you know a man don't live like a little ambrosial god upon nectar distilled from sweetest flowers by the hands of wood-nymphs and fairies. Oh, t horn of Joshua, no/ If I war to tell you the trials and tribulations I’ve had since I hitched on with Ellen Sabina Bandy for better or for worse—but always for worse—your hair’d stand out on end, and you'll want to shoot your own shadder. I don’t b'lieve a devilisher old woman ever hopped on eel tne 3 or ever hatched up more blisterin’ misery for man than that same identical Ellen Sabina Ban—”’ The rest of the name was drowned in an outburst a from the lips of Old Arkansaw and the soldiers. The old intruder was now introduced by Arkan- saw to Captain Barns and his men, when a general we ap on followed. At length Oli Arkansaw sa er face up “ old geni “c Yes, ay t, ole comrade, would you believe it if I war to tell you that your wife, Sabina Bandy, has been in our camp to-night?” “Great holy horn!’ exclaimed Bandy, with a violent start, “‘you wouldn't say so for a fact, scout’s remarks. would you, Arky? You jist want to torture me a “Ay, ‘tis you, Silver Star,’ the borderman ex- | leetle, don’t you? For the love of our constitushun, claimed, with a sudden start; “but how do you | stab me in the back—shoot me, burn me—torture know it’s not a soldier? He's covered from h to | me any way than by such means. The very men- foot. “I can see he is not a soldier, as well as you can see that he is, for neither can see the man himself. You know there are four men on guard, and seven here in camp besides you and me. There lie seven forms, and t one in oo blanket makes eight, ou see he is not a soldier but a stranger. be he or white. But who it can be the rd only knows.” “By the New Jerusalem! I am goin’ to know!” exclaimed the old scout, white with rage; and draw- ing his revolver, he advanced toward the form re- posing sO eyony and quietly in his blanket, Bo Be careful, Katee, ‘there is no telling what the result may be —Ww terrible tragedy is about to be enacted!’ CHAPTER VIL. KIT BANDY. 80 Arkansaw,”’ cautioned OLD ARKANSsAW paused before he reached the trate form wrapped in his blanket to consider the werds of caution given by Silver Star. What dan- ger could result from the situation? Had the un- wn stolen into camp and taken his blanket to a a 1? and Hf so, was the quarrel to be he or an attack upon the camp by conceal- an e rest Indians? P These jguetions the old plainsman_ revolved through his mind time and again; then he turned and awoke Captain Barns and his men. Accustom- ed to such silent wakenings, noise nor demonstration, bu rds been circumvented at the mercy of the the soldiers made no t, rising to their feet, | | possessed of ae ° tacarp tion of my wife’s name gives me the compound- hydrophobia. Just think of that.” “It is a fact, Mr. Bandy; a lady calling herself Sabina Bandy—the wife of Kit Bandy—has been here to-night,’’ said Captain Barns, in confirmation of Arkansaw’s story. ‘ ‘“*Oh, Lord!” groaned the old man; “I thought I smelt brimstone. Won’t that woman last forever? with the ty? The b’lieve Won’t old Time ever mow her down alon other pizen weeds and plants of hu everlastin’ old blister she is! I'll swear, she’s a born witch. Where'd she go?”’ “*A-huntin’ of you,”’ answe Ww. “Blast her old eyes! Ar’x’t she a ripper though, boys? Do you blame me much for cuttin’ loose from sich an old brig and driftin’ out to sea alone? Do you blame sew Arky?”’ ““Can’t say that I do, Kit; but now I want to ask you a question,”’ said Ar WwW. “Peg away, Arky.” ,, LLow came 2 he here in camp?” Them old stilts swung me down here, and as you war all asleep, I didn’t think it to wake necessary a to tell ye I'd arriv’; _ takin’ your blanket, or it was awfully chilly, laid down to—” The report of a rifle burst ee nom Perea the nigh cu ing short the old man’s words. ar! by the horn of Joshua! To arms!” yelled old Kit Bandy, at the top of his brazen lungs. In a moment every man, with rifle and revolver in hand, stood upon the defense, ring into the gloom beyond the radius of light, e yells of Indians started the echoes of night, and the next moment the guard, who had been on duty at the isthmus, ' | | _ them back into the woods. RR LL came running into camp, pursued by @ score and more of savages. ‘Take aim! fire!” commanded Captain Barns. The crash of muskets and revolvers tore through the night with a horrible din, and with it were min- gled the cries and groans of the red-skins. A num- ber of Indians fell. But others came from the dark- ness to take their places. Two-score strong now pressed hard upon the little band of soldiers, forcin They penne a volley o arrows and bullets into their ranks. Two soldiers and Kit Bandy fell. At this juncture Captain Barns saw thatit would be _ certain destruction to contend with such odds, and at once sounded a retreat. Silver Star rose to his feet and attempted to follow them, but his wounded limb refused to obey ite of- _ fice, and he fell. The next instant the savages were | | SS eo | upon him; he was a helpless prisoner. The victorious red-skins pursued Old Arkansaw and the soldiers into the woods, but, favored by the darkness, the latter succeeded in reaching their horses and escaping to the mainland. One by one the red-skins returned to camp, fee!- ing satisfied with the capture of Silver Star. To them the Boy Knight was more than all the soldiers would have n. To them he had been a source of constant trouble. He had been a dreaded scourge— watching and defeating all their well-laid plans. And full well the young scout and spy knew his danger. He felt that there was no hope for him, wounded and heipless as he was. He yielded quiet- ly to his fate, and inwardly mourned the 1 of it apy He turned his eyes upon the prostrate form ofthe old man. He saw the savages tear the scalps from the heads of the fallen soldiers and spurn their bodies with the foot. He to see Bandy served in a like brutal manner; but to his horror and surprise, he saw the sup dead man move—raise his head, glance around him, and then rise to his feet. He made no attempt to nor did the red-skins offer him violence. On con- trary he was greeted with a yell of triumph which told that he was a friend of the Indians—a traitor to the whites! He was allowed the freedom of the camp. He conversed in the Indian dialect with the triumphant warriors. He ordered them to bind the Boy Knight toa tree. They bound him firmly to a stunted pine. Then Bandy and some of the warriors went away—to search for the soldiers and Arkansaw as Silver Star believed. The savages left to guard the boy—a dozen strong —inflicted many cruelties upon him; but the brave lad bore them without a murmur. The search for Old Arkansaw and the sokiiers went on, but without success. Those at camp, tor- tured Silver Star until they became tired of their fu- tile attempts to make him flinch. Yet they were wild and noisy—they were intoxicated with their ag They danced and sung around the fire, = he of the sokdiers flourished upon poles. The minutes wore away into a couple of hours. The young prisoner was suffering more from his cut - ting bonds than his wound. But, suddenly, he felt the bonds relax—felt some one behind the tree fin- gering them, for the ene ee around the trunk of he pine as well as y. It flashed across his mind in an instant that some one was trying to re- lease him; but who had dared venture there? Who- ever he was he was concealed in the shadow of the tree; to be seen would be death. ; . The next moment that mysterious chief, White Crane, walked by the youth, casting a contemptuous look down at him as he passed, and joined the war- riors in their scalp-dance around the fire. Silver Star felt certain that this mysterious chief had again endeavored to befriend him, and had loos- ened his bonds. But, what would this avaii the boy? He could searcely walk, nor could he esca y crawling. Moreover, he dare not move through fear that his bonds, that were still hanging in ition, would fall to the ground and betray his liberty. ** At last,”” White Crane finally broke fo as if unable to restrain himself longer, “has the young pale-faced dog fallen into our power. No longer will he watch like a hawk the movements of the Sioux. My heart thirsts for his blood! The stake awaits his torture. Glory will it be to White Crane to see the flames leaping high around him, fed by the grease out of his own carcass. Let my warriors rejoice! On with our scalp-dance! Ha-ya! ha-ya!” and the old renegade went whirling away in a wild dance, chanting a demoniac Indian song. The war- riors followed him, and for several minutes they con- tinued leaping an age, Poe yelling around the fire, wild and crazy with the excitement worked up in their breasts and brains by the words of their c Suddenly, however, the renegade sto short, and turning toward the pine tree extlateed: “ Fiends and furies! where is the Boy Knight?” Every eye was instantly turned toward tree. They saw the bonds of the lad lying upon the earth, but the boy himself was gone. Instantly the alarm was sounded, and once more a score of human bloodhounds went forth upon the trail of the Boy Knight of the Prairi e. CHAPTER VIL SPARROWHAWE. THE little peninsula resounded with the wild yells of the baffled red-skins, as they glided hither and there in search of the young scout. His escape was shrouded in mystery to them; but, let us see how the boy got away—so suddenly, so si- lently; while White e and his warriors were so intoxicated with triumph and lost in the wild frenzy of a scalp-dance, Silver Star became conscious that some one was again fingering his bonds, and ere EONAIC OO KES (E@)